Hey, Lets Get Some Food Going, We Got A New Family Member To Welcome!

I absolutely adore Jameson Jackson 🥰.

there's like 90 hours of backstory grind for this. just take it.

The Calm and the Storm

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Nine

A JSE Fanfic

Finally, we reach the action! Henrik, Chase, and the others are here to rescue Marvin! Will everything go smoothly? Either way, I’m excited to show you guys :D I’ve been planning this for a while now, and it’s nice to finally have another actiony part in this AU. And, yeah, I have nothing else to say. Short author’s note. Hope you guys enjoy ^-^

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Chase woke up to someone shaking him. He rolled over, and looked up to see Henrik. “Hhrm?”

“Ah, sorry to wake you,” Henrik said apologetically. “But we are about to start planning. I thought you would want to join.”

“Oh. Right.” Chase sat up, and looked around. It didn’t really feel like any time had passed since he’d laid down to take a nap. And it didn’t look like it had, either, since the windows to the inn room were thick, blocking out all light when they were drawn. “Of course.”

“Great. We are meeting in the other room. Follow me.”

They were planning in another inn room, which was rather small with about fifteen people crowded into it. By the time Henrik and Chase arrived, all available sitting areas had been taken, including on top of the beds. Chase closed the door behind him as they entered, and awkwardly leaned against the nearby wall.

Keep reading

Been awhile since I have written/posted something here, mostly cause I get scared to and being busy-- but! Here!

No Escape

Warnings: anxiety, possession of sorts, paranoia

Characters: Jameson, Anti

______

A cold night, breeze that chills one to the bone and a mute enter this scene. What a fine scene this is. The silent one brings his arms to his sides to rub against himself, maybe that'll get him warm. He hopes so.

It's not too long of trip left to his small little home, it's just a horrid night out. Especially without a proper coat or ride home.

This would have been just a task to get through, that is until a voice interrupts the air.

Oh Jameson~! I need ta chat with ya', some business you and I have. A shame we haven't had the time ta do this sooner. Hurry up and get home now.

Jameson froze in his steps, eyes wide with fear for the return of the demon. He was supposed to be gone! Not messing with him again- Nonono!

No! JJ feels the cold air choking him, wrapping its icy fingers around his grey tinted throat. Stealing his already sparse breath. He reaches up at his neck, grabbing the hands to-- Grabbing his throat to remind himself his throat is not being choked.

I have to get home- There's no where else.

With that, he rushes to his home. Hoping what he heard was just an awful trick of the mind, and that he can just focus on getting warm.

The dapper man enters his home, closing the door behind him with a turn of the lock. It's quiet here.. No usual weird noises that come from being tormented. No noise from his tv, he remembered to not leave it on this time.

He almost forgets that he was told to hurry home.

Well well... You did hurry home. I'm glad you still cooperate nicely with me. Like a pair you and I.

Oh God no.

Jameson shakes in his spot. There it is. The sound of static, leeching energy from all the other sounds of life and killing it. The only sound now is static. The fucking static!

Go away! I have no business with you, demon! You're supposed to be gone.

Ahahah! You really think you could keep me away? I will never be away from you. No more.

He can't! No. . . The puppeteer heads into the living room, where the tv is there. On, because he forgot to turn it off and playing a static channel. Jameson turns the tv off, he could've sworn he remembered this time.

You will leave! You're not welcome here.

A low chuckle seeps into the dark corners of Jameson's mind. Then the black fills his vision, just before he collapses.

I meant it when I said I will never be away from you. I'm inside your head.

The T.H.I.N.K principle, huh? Wonder what that’s about- 

Gosh, doesn’t that ring a bell?

Doesn’t that sound- familiar? Something about

killing

your

d̴ou̴̺̒b̶l̵̙̑̑e̴͔̺̍?̶͇͐̑ͅ

Literally

🖤Reblogs are appreciated!🖤

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.

R.I.P Anti

Hit in the face

(I... I just realized I didn’t sign that last ask, the one about being bored... so yeah, that was me, btw... whoops) I’d love some angst, if you’re up for it. Also, gosh, if I had the chance, I would want to hang out with you! Watch YouTube, chat, chill... it would be fun! - Vic

(That would be fun! Sorry this took forever, as soon as I started writing we had to go out. I have no idea what this is, nor why it went the way it did, but I hope you enjoy!)

“Aŕe҉ y̸o͝u̸ ̷r͏ęady͞, pùp͠p̕et̸?”

Schneep didn’t answer. Ever since Anti had taken him they’d done the same things every day. He just hung his head, waiting for the inevitable. Anti laughed.

“W͝e'r҉e̵ tŕyin̕g ̷someth҉i̧ņg͜ ne͡w t́od̢ay̷.,” Anti said, literally buzzing with anticipation. Schneep raised his head. Something new? What fresh torture had the glitch thought up?

Anti tossed a scalpel to Schneep. It hit the floor with a small clink. Schneep glared at Anti as the glitch cackled. Very funny. Toss something to a shackled prisoner who couldn’t catch it. ‘Very f**king funny,’ Scnheep thought. But he knew better than to say it out loud. Anti stopped laughing abruptly, his eyes going black. “Y̧o͝u ͟h̶av̧e͜ ͡a pa̵ti͝en̶t̵, d͢octor̷.̀”

Schneep stumbled when Anti pushed him forward. He gripped the scalpel tightly, it’s familiarity a small comfort after weeks but also a painful reminder of…of his failure the last time he’d held one. The failure that had lead to his situation. A light flickered on. And on an operating table laid an ego.

It wasn’t Jackie, or Chase, or Marvin. It was an ego Schneep had never seen before. A new one.

Did…did that mean Jack was alive? Hope sparked in Schneep’s chest. But it was snuffed by the static that burst in his ears.

A new ego. Before he’d been rescued?

“D́o̧ ͡you͝ ̛thįn͏k ̵the̢y̶'re̵ ͠stil͢ļ l͏óo̢k̕i̡ng fo͟r҉ y̨o͏u?” Anti’s voice whispered through the static. “N͟o.͡ ̷Th͡e͢y̡ fou̧nd͜ ͟sóm̴eo̴n͟e͢ ͢n̴e̶w. ̡Some̸one͞-”

“-to r̡͡ep̸͢͏l͠a͞c̷̕ȩ́ me,” Schneep finished, hurt and anger beginning to build in his chest. His words had been barely a murmur, but they echoed around him. Some part of him protested. Maybe Jack hadn’t meant to make someone new! Maybe it was an accident! But Anti’s influence flooded his mind and silenced the protests.

“Sho͝w̧ ̸h́i̢m̡ ̶h͟e̛ c̸an͟'̡t re̛pl҉ace͜ yo͞u.͜ S͡how҉ th̡e҉m͏.͡You͠ ̧h͠a̵v̡e̡ ͜so ̡m̵a͞ny͢ ̴sc͝a̛r҉ş. ͞A͢n͏d̵ he's͠ b̢ra͠n̵d n̶e̵w͢.̕G̀i͠ve ͟h҉i͏m s̷ome̕ sc͠a͞r̛s̡,̵ ̵pu̧p͝p͝et.͏ B͟reak͏ ͢their ne͡w ̛l͝įttlé ͡to̧y̷.”

“Scars…break.” Schneep moves closer. “If…if they want to replace me…it should be acc͜ưra͟t͡e.

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…