Day 3 : Mind Games.

Puppets

TW: Slight Mentions of dislocated limbs, broken bones, bleeding, and angst

Description: JJ always liked Puppets, its just that the word ‘puppet’ had a different meaning now

JJ always found puppets fascinating, he remembered making a sock puppet once when he was little after seeing a puppet theatre show at elementary school, he couldn’t remember his name because it was so long ago, but he remembers playing with it fondly and even putting on his own shows for show and tell.

‘Puppet’ had a different meaning now. He remembers the flash, the glitch forward as everything around him suddenly grew too bright, too loud, too colorful, disoriented, confused, but he had friends….Maybe even brothers.

Finding out puppets were still a thing was a relief, as were radios, books, everything that he knew from the old times still existed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling every time he saw a puppet show online, he remembers the tingle in the back of his neck, as if an invisible claw had pricked a string. He shook it off at the time, just a weird twinge in his spine. It was fine.

He was too late to do anything when they all got taken. He was too late to save them. He was too late to see his own strings get pulled.

He played the Morse again, a slight whisper in his ear told him no one cared, no one was there, he gritted his teeth and walked spindly towards the door after no answer he passed by a room, hesitantly opened the door and on the shelf was them. Limbs sticking out in odd angles, mouths agape as if JJ had surprised them, but he knew that wasn’t the case, a single string was wrapped around ones throat, along with a stethoscope, another, his cape frayed, burned, his eyes bleeding as he tried to speak to JJ but all that came out was a harsh rasping breath. He heard the voice again, and his own strings snapped into place as he robotically took his own place on the shelf, and the door behind him closed and locked, and his eyes shut as he heard the squish of the knife right as the magician let out a rasping squeak, a harsh voice answering “Shut up. Puppets aren’t supposed to talk,  kͧ͒ǐͦẗ́ͤͪť̈y̐͗ ̃͋ͬ͒̿͆c͒ͭ̂̄̏͌ͫâ͂t~̇ͨ͒” ‘Puppet’ had a different meaning now

JJ was always fascinated by Puppets and the way they couldn’t move.

Its Just that he and his Fr̕i͡en͢ds were now like that too.

(A/N: Oops I dropped some angst oh noooo :P If you wanna be added to the tag list feel free to DM me or shoot me an ask I will gladly add you!)

Tag List: @pumpkin-demon @sharky-g @pyranoia @char-arts-occasionally @wyverwithy @randowaffle @cai-the-savage777 @pmaismydna @miss-covert @ninjasinsocks @antis-gauge @coconutpillow05 @help-trashbin @lonelyseiren @darcywillfindyou

Ack sorry I've been out all night but could I get a nose boop with, say, JJ and Marv? ❤️ - Vic

“May I ask you to explain this trick one more?”

Marvin didn’t look up from his book as he answered. “I found a tome on transfiguration and I want to test it out. I need you to hold the can so that if I do turn it into a puppy, it won’t be able to run away.”

JJ wrung his hands nervously. “Why choose me? Surely one of the others would suffice!” 

Marvin looked at JJ and realized just how nervous the young ego was. “Hey, it’ll be okay. No need to be scared,” he said softly. “I’ve got good control over my magic.”

“I know. It’s simply the fact that it’s magic at all! I trust you completely, good sir, but I trust the magic as much as I trust air travel, which is to say not at all!”

Marvin shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess. But this spell has no chance of being harmful! At worst, it makes the can grow a tail. I have some reversal spells ready just in case, if that makes you feel better. Just hold still, and it will all be fine.” He held up his hands, ready to preform the spell. JJ looked like he wanted to protest some more, but instead he held the can out at arms length and closed his eyes. 

Marvin read the spell, and softly glowing green mist began to surround his fingers. As he went on it was joined by a pale blue mist, and then the two combined. They formed a ball in Marvin’s hand, glittering with teal and turquoise. He lightly tossed the ball at the can.

Metal is a very good conductor when it comes to electricity. As it turned out, it was a conductor for certain spells as well.

There was a small flash of light. The can fell to the ground, right next to the brown puppy with the black mustache print under his nose. The puppy opened his mouth to yelp, but no sound came out. He crouched low to the ground, trembling.

“Oh my-JJ!” Marvin moved closer and picked the puppy up. he was a little Boston Terrier. Marvin held him close to his chest and pet him, trying to get him to calm down. Eventually JJ stopped shaking, and Marvin set him down on the ground again. He sat down on the ground as well. 

As guilty as he felt about turning JJ into a dog, he couldn’t help but grin and giggle. JJ padded up closer to Marvin, with his little puppy paws, and settled down in his lap. Marvin booped his nose and laughed when JJ tried to bite his finger playfully, his tiny puppy teeth not even hurting. From what Marvin could tell, based on what was the dog equivalent of a mortified expression after the fact, JJ still had his human mind but also had puppy instincts.

“Don’t worry JJ, I’ll get you turned back in no time,” he said. He pet JJ on the head. “But first…JACKIE! CHASE! SCHNEEP! GET IN HERE!”

JJ looked at him with puppy anger. “I just want to let them see you! You’re adorable!” JJ growled. “Please? Just for a minute?”

JJ stared at him. Then he started wagging his tail as a way of saying, “Fine.” 

America's Suitehearts (Evil!Marvin)

(I was listening to Fall Out Boy and got inspired! I know they aren’t American but it’s a common enough phrase, yeah? These are connected to a couple prompt requests I did a while ago, but they aren’t necessary to read to read this one! You can find them if you search evil!Marvin on my blog, I think!)

Jack backed away from the magician, terror shining in his eyes and sending shivers throughout his body. “W-what did you do to them?”

Marvin grinned, and it was so big that coupled with his mask he almost looked like the Cheshire Cat as he stared at Jack from the shadows. “What’s the matter, Jack? You don’t like their new looks?”

Jack shook his head. The “new looks” put a chill in his bones, and tears in his eyes.

They were faded. Almost completely see-through, save the faint blue and green outlines. The red of Jackie’s suit was gone, replaced with a dark green. His cape was in tatters, and it hung off of one shoulder by literally a thread. His mask hung around his neck, the blue so dark it could have been black.

Chase’s hat was pulled far down over his eyes, but Jack could still see as bright blue tears steamed down his face. His gun was held in his hand, though his grip was so loose it could have fallen at any second. The skull on his hat had been replaced, and a playing card took up it’s place.

Jameson’s hat was gone entirely, his usually neat hair wild and unkempt. His pocket watch had fallen through a hole in his pocket. It slowly turned as it hung, the light not even flirting off the also ghost-like watch. His vest was unbuttoned and wrinkled. It was the same color as Chase’s tears.

Schneep was the only one looking directly at Jack. His coat was covered in shimmering blue stains, stains that Jack was sure were meant to represent blood. His mask and cap were gone, his glasses cracked and broken. His blue scrubs were now a pale green. In his hand he held an empty syringe. He locked eyes with Jack. Jack searched for any traces of his friend, but the doctor’s eyes were empty.

Perhaps the most chilling of all…was Anti. He stood next to Marvin, a similar grin to the magician’s on his face, but he too was transparent. The cut on his neck dripped with pale blue static instead of blood. His hair was falling in his face, almost coveeing his eyes. His eyes didn’t ever change or flicker. They stayed a sickening shade of green.

The same shade of green that surrounded Marvin as he raised his hand. The ego all lurched forward. “Let’s hear it! For America’s sweethearts!” he shouted. “Or, they used to be!” He walked up to Jack, his face bright with glee. “Isn’t it wonderful? My spell worked! Not a single fan remembers any of them! I even erased the great Antisepticeye! And he helped me get strong enough to do it! He never thought I’d go against him!” Marvin cackled, and Jack flinched.

“What did they ever do to you?” Jack said. He backed away, trying to make it to the kitchen. If he could just get a weapon… “You didn’t have to do this, Marvin! I could have helped you! I never meant to-”

“To abandon me?” Marvin interrupted. The venom in his voice didn’t match the grin the remained spread across his face. “To leave me to suffer? To force me to live off of scraps of attention from the fans? TO NOT EVEN GIVE ME A NAME?! I WAS LEFT WEAK, PATHETIC! YOU COULD HAVE KNOCKED ME OUT WITH A FEATHER! YOU NEVER WANTED TO HELP ME, JACK!” He kept grinning, even as he screamed. He took a deep breath. “I didn’t have to do this. You’re right! But I must confess-” he paused, and looked at the other egos as though admiring a work of art, “- I’m in love with my own sins.”

Jack was so close. He could duck into the kitchen, grab a knife, at least he’d be able to defend himself. But when he went to run, he found a warm feeling surround him. He couldn’t move. He cast his eyes down. Green and blue surrounded him, not unlike how it surrounded the egos. Marvin had his hand held out, and it glowed with the same colors.

“Tsk, tsk. I don’t think so, Jack.” He curled his fingers, and Jack was yanked towards him harshly. He put an arm around Jack’s shoulder in an almost friendly manner. “See, I got to thinking. The spell worked so well with the egos, who’s to say it won’t work as well with you?”

“Don’t you dare,” Jack managed to growl.

Marvin ignored him. “Why can’t the world revolve around me? Oh, you’ll say that you aren’t that important, the world doesn’t revolve around you, but for you fans…well, for a lot of them, their world does. You can bow, and pretend you don’t know you’re a legend, but you are. You are to millions! And I want that. I crave it! Why can’t I replace you with me? I can remove memories, why wouldn’t I be able to change them?”

“Marvin…please…I never meant to abandon you…” Jack said, every word a struggle to get out past the magic. “Just…let me go…it doesn’t have to be like this!”

Marvin made a face like he was in deep thought. “No, no it doesn’t.” His grinned returned, and he stared Jack in the eyes. “But I want it to be.”

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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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

R.I.P Anti

Hit in the face

Heyo! For the one worded prompt, how about: relax with JJ? 💚💚

Curled up in bed, with a magic glow to protect him, Chase hums softly as he plays with JJ’s hair, pushing it out of his face and stroking it gently. Jameson’ chest slowly rises and falls, his mustache faintly twitching every now and then.

At least Jameson no longer cries or coughs. His fever has finally gone down and he can have small amounts of soup. 

The song Chase sings is an old Irish lullaby, one he would sing to his children to help them sleep at night. He faintly remembers it being about an old faerie legend, where a selkie’s voice could break hearts of stone.

Jameson’s eyelids flutter open. He turns sideways, acknowledging Chase. Chase smiles and gently pecks his forehead.

“How ya feeling, kiddo?” Chase whispers. JJ shrugs as well as he can and smiles.

“Schneep says your fever broke, so you should be back on your feet in no time,” Chase continues. Jameson wiggles his moustache contentedly, and closes his eyes again.

Chase can feel his own eyelids grow heavy, but there something catches his eye. A screen reads, [Thanks for looking after me. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.}

JJ has only just started learning how to use magic to make screens, this must be draining him.

“You don’t owe me a thing,” Chase said. “Just relax, JJ.” The vlogger kisses JJ’s head.

{Good night, Chase.]

“Good night, JJ.”

For @kofi-king, who wished for JJ and Chase cuddling <3333

@graysun, @miishae, @florenceisfalling, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @writerwithdepression, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada, @deadlydevine, @meteorshowersfillthesky, @bupine, @the-yandere-kitsune, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow

Jameson Jackson and Colonel William J. Barnum fought in the war together and Nobody Can Change My Mind

esteemed Colonel William J. Barnum takes a liking to a scrappy young British fighter just as likely to get you in a shot as at the end of his bayonet… all too used to being ignored by his commanding officers, Jameson’s loyalty to the Colonel grows due to his attempts to communicate with him and his refusal to let “dead-tongue Jackson” isolate himself… William never seems to treat Jameson any differently than anybody else, just chatters easily, gruffly, cheerfully to him, clapping him hard on the shoulder and advising him to “run along, now, Jackson!” in that deep graveling voice… finally, they find themselves together on the front, soaked in the mud, guns clenched… “Seems we’re just about the last men standing! Made it to the end, didn’t we, my boy!” calls the Colonel over the sounds of gunshot, and Jameson thinks to himself “that we did, old chap” and gives him a grin that says it too, only for the gaze between them to be broken by the crack of a bullet and a flash of blood from William’s head… anguished, JJ drags him back towards help, taking a wound on his leg, but never stopping… it seems impossible that they return, that he is even conscious to pull William back to safety, but he does it, he does it, and everyone is staring at him as he staggers into camp and collapses…. William wakes up and turns his head and Jameson is the first thing he sees, asleep beside him… everyone is talking about how far they made it and how they managed to return and both survive… both are awarded and applauded, but they just want to sit in silence for each other for a while, and rest….

Too soon Jameson is called away to another battle. William writes to him, once, twice, thrice, teasing him more and more every time for not responding, but a letter never comes. Months later, once the war is done, William connects with Jameson’s commanding officer, demanding to know where he’s gone. But all there is left of Jameson is an empty battlefield and the words “MIA” written beside his name on a record somewhere…

How cute

tiny hug

(via)

Crawl To Salvation

Content Warning: Burns, Captivity, Fire, mentions of death, ableism Possession (feel free to request more) 

Jameson knew nothing else but to crawl. 

The woods floor was damp with condensation; the tiny droplets from the trees leaves cascaded over his charred body, steaming as they came down. The man’s body was broken; his legs were seared, leaving patches of pink flesh throbbing in the air. Yet, his mind has never felt so well, free to finally think for and as himself.

His only desire was to find someone, anyone, other than the beast he left in the flames a few feet behind him. He had no recollection of how long he’d actually been dragging his body along the wet floor, inching along as leaves stuck to him and twigs stabbed his belly. 

The woods around him began to meld into each other, until the trees resembled a large, obsidian monster whose branches looked like spider legs, as his vision dipped in and out of unconsciousness. Jameson’s mind was no longer focused on surviving; he felt his body caving in to the forgiving darkness. If he were to die, he’d die knowing that his mind was his for the first time, and that this was his action to take.  

Suddenly, Jameson heard footsteps approaching him from behind. He listened as they broke sticks under their feet and walked at an even pace, obviously taking their time. Jameson could feel the wickedness with every careless step, and it was closing in. The urge to crawl again beat his heart into doing the same and he continued his dissent with all the strength he could muster. 

The man behind inevitably caught up to him and watched the sight. He tilted his head to the side as he watched the burning man grasp at leaves and dirt to pull his body into the direction of freedom; like a snail trying to escape from under the sole of a boot. The man finally chuckled and bent down, grasping the back of Jameson’s neck. Jameson seized in pain, trying to lift his hand to swat the man’s hand away. His weakened state was no match for the iron grip.

”Y’know…I am very impressed at how you did that” The mans German accent cut through the woods with a deep rumble. Jameson knew that he was the doctor Anti kept in the basement. “Never would’ve guessed you knew anything other than to be good to me.” His words were clumsy and non-emotive. “But, I now realize that you don’t know how to do that either” Tears started to spring from Jameson’s eyes as he thrashed weakly, leaving no struggle for Henrik, as he flipped Jameson over on his back. Jamesons back arched as he writhed in pain. “It was my fault, I know. I assumed you weren’t so able…and cognizant.” 

Jameson continued to writhe, twisting to escape from underneath the doctor despite his injuries pulsing in agony. The doctor cupped the mans face, silently demanding him to face him. “But that’s okay, We’ll just start over, and make sure that every knot is tied just as tight as the last” The doctor trailed his finger along the mans charred wrists in monotonous motion; It started to feel as if strings slinked through his blood; Disgust creased his chapped lips. 

Henrik got closer, speaking at a violent whisper. “I’ll rip…every last feeling of rebellion from your pathetic brain that you won’t even know how to sign your name, because all you can ever think about is mine” Henrik smiled wide and crazed; the moonlight twinkled off his teeth. Jameson was frozen with scared eyes beneath who he thought was the doctor Anti kept in the basement, yet from the way blood trailed down from his eyes and nose, from the way Henrik’s pupils engulfed the blue of his irises, Jameson realized Anti was still alive and wasn’t his only body. Henrik’s fingers twirled a piece of Jameson’s hair as he spoke,  “But we will take our time. I can’t lose a human like you. Who feels so good to put on. Even right now…I’m itching to feel you again.”

Anti got up from the ground. Standing over Jameson, he grabbed his leg, to which Jameson gasped sharply, and started to pull him back towards the barns direction, Jameson harsh twisting doing nothing with the little strength he had. He prayed and prayed for something, anything! He wish to rip the nails boarding up his voice to scream, “Free me! Help me! I’m here! Help!” until his throat was torn to shreds from pleading. 

In the corner of his eye, a light unlike the moon light glimmered through the trees. It was some ways in the distance. Jameson whose heart leaped for the rest of his being, begged him to take action. Shrill whistles escaped Jameson’s lips on after another, his call for help. Anti let go of Jameson’s leg with a painful thump. He had not registered the pain as whistles continued to leap from his mouth, as a scream for help. 

Then, a sharp force to the mouth knocked Jameson apart. All the sudden strength, courage, his whistles, were knocked towards the wind with a swift kick to the face, giving nothing but an agonizing crack. Anti giggled profusely at Jameson’s decaying state, knowing he’d struck where his last bit of energy was. “They don’t care, Jameson. Nobody does. Nobody can and will care as much as I do.” Anti spoke darkly to an unconscious Jameson. Anti narrowed his eyed, looking up towards light source. As quickly as it appeared, it promptly vanished within the night, probably thinking it was nothing to check out. Anti sighed in relief; he would have had to kill someone and ironically, was not in the mood tonight.

He reached down and grabbed Jamesons leg. He adjusted the way the mans body was twisted were he laid, unfolding him to have him lay on his back. Anti whistled an unnamed tune, as he dragged his doll back home. 

Notes: I’m back??? I don’t know, between real life and tumblr, I have yet to find a healthy balance. But, I realized that just writing “mediocre” short stories about my favorite boys is really the only thing that keeps me sane (ironically). And just realizing that posting on tumblr isn’t and doesn’t have to feel like a “full time job with perfection”, so I’m just letting myself have fun and I hope you find something you like within that too.

"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.”