Origin Story

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Ooooh, could you do something with a merman Illinois luring someone out to see and drowning them? Like a siren?

His voice rolled with the waves, echoes carried on their course, as smooth, deep and silky as liquid gold, as clear as glass. He could already see the dazed wonder on the traveler’s face and the sway of their body to the song as they rowed their boat closer. Unrolling his rope of entwined seaweed and rigging, he tossed it out to them, chuckling as they took it up with eager hands – so very happy to be reeled in.

“You’ll be seein’ me in your dreams, even when your reality drowns…There’s a bright side to every wrong thing if you’re looking at me through the right eyes…Don’t be so shy, friend,” he urged with a dazzling smile. “Come closer. Don’t you want to share your adventure with me?” 

Follow me into the water…I’ll take you to the darker.

Desiderium

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter One

A JSE Fanfic

Hey! Hey! New AU! :D I’m really excited for it! As you can probably tell from the title, this is a fantasy-themed one. Taking place in the kingdom known as Glasúil, where magic and strange creatures are common, a man called Chase lives a simple life in a mountain village with his family. But of course, something just has to happen, and, well…you’ll see next chapter ;) Feel free to ask me anything about this AU, even though it’s still in its early stages I have a lot of ideas that I’m eager to share!

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The forest floor was blanketed in a layer of fallen leaves, red and orange and yellow matching the colors of those still on the tree branches. Bushes and shrubs made the terrain difficult for most people. But a single rabbit hopped across the ground, unhindered by the underbrush and making no sound on the crunchy fallen leaves. It stopped by a small bush, sniffed its leaves, and started to nibble on them.

Thwip! An arrow suddenly appeared next to the rabbit. It had barely landed when the rabbit was already running, darting off quickly. “Wait, no! No!” Someone shouted. A man appeared, shooting to his feet from where he’d been hiding behind a nearby bush. He nocked another arrow and let it loose, but it missed by a mile, landing in the trunk of a nearby tree. The rabbit was already gone.

“Damn it,” Chase cursed, looking down at his arm. That last shot had been sloppy; if he wasn’t wearing his arm guard, the bow string could’ve really hurt him. He tightened the guard straps and went to collect the arrows from where they’d landed. The one that hit the tree had its point chipped a bit. “Damn it,” he said again, whispering this time. If he kept chipping arrows, he’d have to buy more, and they couldn’t afford that right now.

Maybe he’d missed because it was starting to get dark. Chase looked through the branches of the trees towards the sky. He could see the rosy hint of a sunset in the distance. Well, if that wasn’t a sign that it was time to head back, he didn’t know what was. He’d already checked the snares he’d set up yesterday and set up new ones; there was nothing more to do. Disappointed, he turned back and headed east, towards town. Hopefully tomorrow he’d find more in the forest than three squirrels and a rabbit that he failed to shoot.

Weiterlesen

Are you up for writing rn? Could I see Chase comfort JJ after a nightmare? I'm having a rough night, I could use some boys 💔

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chase ventured as Jameson clutched the fabric of his nightshirt and blinked away the last vestiges of sleep.

“It...” He floundered, helplessly throwing his free hand. “Antisepticeye. What more can I possibly say? How long is he going to hold this power over me? How long am I going to be...plagued with his presence?”

“I -- I don’t know, Jem, but it’s us against him. We’re right here with you, we’re stronger together. And...you have your God with you too, don’t you? Every minute of every day? Isn’t that what you believe?”

“...Yes. Always.” With a slow exhale, the shudder in his shoulders eased. “That madcap holds no power to ever change that.”

These guys crack me up!

Anti: So, you appear on the screen and screech at them, got it?

JJ: >:(

Now I’m curious to see our mute baby boy as an angry mute potato…

Herding Sheep: Chapter One

This is the beginning of our tale. Anti has brought home a new pet, who gets a gory introduction to Anti’s love for violence. However Jameson, the other puppet, expresses curiosity and wonder, this being the first time Anti has ever let anything or anyone near the house. Time for the doctor to be broken in, or die before he gets there. 

cw// hypnotism, abuse, animal death, kidnapping, panic attack, manipulation, Anti being creepy as ever. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Today is a good day.

Anti said so as he slipped into JJ’s body, dematerializing himself and replacing the puppet’s consciousness. 

Today is a good day. 

Anti said so as Jameson’s hands ripped the stranger out of his bed, knocked him out and threw him in a sack. Yes, today is a good day. 

So why is he shaking? Why is Jameson trembling as he stares at the limp body placed delicately onto a dirty cot. His face seems familiar, but with slight differences. Jameson touches his own plump lips, and his own scarred brow. The stranger shares the same features. 

It doesn’t matter. No one matters but Anti.

Weiterlesen

So cute ^^

“Movie” dark x jj

The whirring of film being read echoes in Jameson’s ears in the little camera booth. He watches through the hole projection room’s wall as the theatre fills up. He smiles, threading film around the camera’s wheel, a sense of pride filling him as he does his job well. He sits at the wooden table in the room, the chair cruel and wooden on his aching shoulders and back. Flip the switches and thread the film. Simple enough, yet well-paying for a war-time job. Distracted by the rolling of the camera and the safety of the projection booth, the high pitched whining in the air goes unnoticed.

An hour later, the movie ends, The Last Rose of Summer echoing in his head. Jameson hitches up his belt, sighing and straightening out his clothes. They are a bit tattered, a bit tight-fitting, but it helps the time traveler blend in in this post-depression era. Ready to close for the night, his boss hurries him out of the room, leading him scurrying from the door of Trimmer’s Theatre without even signing goodbye. 

He pulls his jacket around himself, shivering. Now out in the open, a high little whine fills the air, though the song plays on in his head.

When true hearts lie withered,    And fond ones are flown, Oh! who would inhabit    This bleak world alone?

“Alone?”

Jameson whips around as a hand touches his shoulder. No one... is there anyone? He swears someone’s eyes watch him from the darkness. He pulls his coat tighter, huffing out anxious breaths, turning to walk to his apartment swiftly, steps unsure and fainting. He cannot wait to get to the apartment’s solitude and travel back to the future with his warm little house and caring little family- 

Something shoves him hard. He crumbles to the ground, waiting for the feeling of smacking into it- But the feeling doesn’t come. Rather, a thick blackness, like ink but smelling of flesh and earth, surrounds him entirely. He is laying on an unseen floor. Whispering voices circle him. His eyes dance around wildly, curling up in his jacket, panting so hard he feels his lungs will fail. 

“Alone, Jameson?” A voice echoes all around him, and he jumps up to his feet, scrabbling for a knife at his side, eyes darting around looking for the obvious threat. 

Something steps from the darkness. A corpse that might’ve once been a man, or a woman, with glowing, piercing blue eyes and bedraggled rotting hair. Jameson takes a shaky breath, stepping backward. 

“Looking for this, little time traveler?” The figure holds up his knife, now dripping with black shadows and half-consumed by the monster’s hand. Jameson bends slightly at the waist, ready to fight. But the monster throws the blade forward, the deafening clatter echoing through the ink. “No matter. Here, take it. You cannot kill me in any way that matters. I have... a proposition for y- 

An hour later, the movie ends, The Last Rose of Summer echoing in his head. Jameson hitches up his belt. Oh god. He stands suddenly, his chair crashing to the floor. Someone, or something, has found him. They know he is a time traveler, his name, his weapons, his whole being. 

He shakily brushes curls from his face, tucking them into his hat. 

Psst.

Jameson whips around, eyes wide. The light buzzes in his ears. 

Suddenly, he is in the theatre. He is sitting in one of the chairs, flipped down and accommodating, a bag of popcorn sitting on the armrest. 

“As I was saying, little traveler,” sounds a voice from the darkness. Jameson whips around, gripping the armrest, his gaze sharp and ready to kill. Rather than the corpse, there is an absolutely gorgeous man sitting next to him. Jameson blinks in surprise, shocked by the soft brown eyes and grey-tinted but clear and bright skin, the swirl of raven black hair covering one of their eyes, and the prim proper suit. 

The being turns to face him, the room dark except for the glowing, empty screen. 

“You are fascinating, I hope you know. Thinking you could escape timelessness, bah.” The being chuckles darkly, smiling a bit too widely with perfect teeth. Jameson scowls, having no time for this shit. 

“What do you want,” he signs. 

“I don’t speak BSL-”

Before the being can finish, Jameson pulls out a notepad and a ballpoint pen, his lips set stonily and eyes radiating frustration. 

What do you want? he writes, shoving the pad in the entity’s face. The being peers at him around it with eyes that are far to friendly. 

“Oh, not much, don’t fret. I simply came for a chat. You fascinate me, as I have said. It is rare a human does, consider yourself lucky.”

What makes me fascinating?

“No matter, all in good time. For now, little traveler, you may call me Dark.”

Jameson stifles a cheeky grin. 

He holds up the pad with a drawing of a middle finger raising hand on it. The being blinks, then raises an eyebrow. 

“I suppose the politeness of the British was a lie, of course,” it comments. Jameson turns away, setting the pad on his leg. 

I could just time travel away.

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Scared, scared, scared,” offers Dark’s echo. Jameson closes his eyes. It is true, he’s scared. This is the first supernatural entity he has spoken to without Anti there to defend him. His confidence is a façade and he can tell Dark knows it.

“You have immense power. Even greater than mine. Forgive me for flattering, but you may just be the most powerful magician I have ever come across.” Jameson startles as the entity reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out his watch. The dark hand fiddles with it, feeling the radiating magic that smells of dust and blood. “I would love it if you would... assist me. There is someone I want to make pay. Name your price.” Beautiful brown-gold eyes glint up at JJ as the being lets the watch fall back against his chest. His mustache twitches. He glares, raising an eyebrow. 

He picks up the notepad. 

Sets it down.

Picks it up. 

Protection. I have a demon, my monster. Keep him away.

“I know of your demon. Our creators introduced us long before we played these silly games.” Dark picks at his suit. “Very well then, consider it done. You have never been safer than in the hands of my soldiers and myself. Jameson Jackson will be the name your Anti dies fearing.”

Jameson smiles, a twinge of blackness slipping into his eyes as whispers surround him, light playing over his face from the movie screen. Make him pay, echoes through his brain. Make him pay for all he did to you. 

Dark smiles. Yes. Make him pay. Make them all pay for what he did. In an instant they are gone, leaving Jameson alone, a rose falling from the air in place of the being. Passions combined often make fearsome alliances. 

These Thorns Are Rosy

(This is based off a little plot-concept-thing from @septic-dr-schneep‘s blog! It happened…a while ago. Oops. 

Marvin accidentally cursed JJ, and now everything JJ touches becomes roses and his hands prick people he touches as though they’re covered in thorns. Title inspired by the song Hey Look Ma, I made It by Panic! At The Disco.)

“I called Marvin, just try to calm down. Just-just breath. In, out, in, out,” Chase said, putting his hand on JJ’s shoulder. The young ego jerked away, loosing his footing from how violently he did so. 

“I can’t!” His speech slide shook like it was in an earthquake. “I-I don’t understand what’s happening!” Chase tried to get close to him again, but JJ stumbled back. “No! No, you mustn't touch me!”

“Okay, okay! I won’t touch you!” Chase said, putting his hand up. “But please just breath, okay? Take a deep breath. Marvin can fix this. I’m sure.”

JJ took a deep breath, and his hands trembled a little less. “Right, y-yes. Marvin can fix this.” He looked at the petals littering the floor, at the way chase was rubbing his hand and wincing. Oh god, he hoped Marvin could fix it.

Three days.

Three days and Marvin still had no idea how to reverse…whatever curse was on JJ. 

Whatever curse he’d put on JJ.

He didn’t even know how it had happened. All he knew was that he’d gone with JJ to pick up some rose seeds, and then…his eyes widened.

The car ride. During the ride back home, he’d been the one holding the seeds, and he’d fallen asleep. He had a dream, a dream where strings pulled at his arms and forced his magic out of him, where his magic was no longer his own, where whispers had swirled around his head in inside his mind and forced themselves out of his mouth, where stabbing pains wrapped around him and he could feel static in his blood, and hen it had all drained away and he was left with only the sounds of screeching broken records.

He felt the hairs on his neck stand up, but not just from the revelation. Static filled the air around him, and he knew it was no coincidence that he was only able to remember the dream now.

He whirled around and found himself face-to-face with the Glitch himself. Marvin raised his hand, but Anti just smiled and suddenly the magician was plunged into darkness.

Three days.

Three days that Jameson couldn’t touch anyone or anything. Not food, not a glass of water, and he refused to let his brothers come near him for fear of harming them.

Oddly enough, he didn’t feel hungry. He had taken to spending his time outside, where he couldn’t do any damage. He felt better in the sun, he discovered, especially when he took his hat off. 

He wouldn’t mind that so much if he hadn’t begun to find rose buds in his hair, rose buds that had no way to get there.

Unless they hadn’t gotten there, and had started there instead. The thought sent shivers down his spine. 

“JJ?”

He looked up, startled out of his thoughts. Marvin knelt down in front of him. “What are you thinking about?”

Jameson clasped his hands together like he was afraid they’d reach out and touch Marvin all on their own. “I’m not getting any better, Marvin, in fact I do believe I’m getting worse. I’m just hoping for when this nightmare will end.”

Marvin blinked, and looked down at the ground. “About that…” He sighed, and when he looked back up Jameson was taken aback by the defeat in his expression. “I…I can’t find a fix. I’m afraid…I’m afraid this may be permanent.”

Jameson reeled back. “W-what?”

Marvin ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been doing everything I can. None of my books or tomes have anything helpful, and a few of them just flat out say that curses like this are irreversible.”

Jameson felt panic swell up within him. “N-no. No, that can’t-”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down! You’re hyperventilating, just-OW!”

Marvin yanked his hand away from Jameson’s shoulder. Jameson’s eyes went wide at the sight of the bleeding cuts on the magician’s hands. “Oh goodness, I-I’m sorry…” 

Marvin had touched his shoulder, not his hands. Oh god. 

“It’s fine,” Marvin said, squeezing his eyes shut. He cradled his hand as the blood continued too pool in his palm. 

Jameson felt sick. He got to his feet and started running. He didn’t know where to, just…away.

Marvin opened his eyes and looked up, watching the young ego sprinting away. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes turned black before passed out. Anti materialized next him. He leaned down and pet the magician’s hair. “ T̕ha͘nk y̶o̧ư so̷ ̧m̢uch̡ f͞o͞r͟ ̀your̀ ̴hel̀p,” he sneered. He glitched away, leaving the unconscious Marvin to bleed on the grass.

Jameson slowed down, out of breath. He wasn’t sure where he was. Somehow in his blind panic he’d found himself in a wooded area of some kind, surrounded by trees and bushes that seemed to taunt him. No people. Only plants.

He put his hand in his hands, but quickly pulled them away. Another rose bud. He scowled and threw it on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with his shoe. 

“Su̷ch̛ ang͡e̢r for som͟e̵t̨hin͞g so҉ s͠m͟al̶l.͠” Anti’s voice echoed from the shadows, shadows that were gradually becoming deeper as the sun set. “A̡nd͞ s̡uch҉ a͝ng̶e͘r͝ ̧at ̵t͏he ̀bud, ͠as̕ we҉ll.̴”

“W-where are you, demon?” Jameson was sure he didn’t truly want to know the answer, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“W̡h̶ere a̶re͟ ̛y̕ou? ̨R̴u͠n̛ a҉w͜a̡y from͟ ̀home͘,̧ I̵ ̡s͘e͢ȩ”

Jameson spun around, trying to figure out there the voice was coming from, but all he saw were the old, creaking trees. Had they looked so rotten and dead before? Was it just a trick of the night? “What do you want?”

“Yo͝u ͢hur͢t ̡t͡hem͝, ̛r̡įg̛ht? You'͟ve͠ m̷a͘d̴e ̢t͜hém ̶b̨lee͝d.͝” Jamseon saw something flicker into view out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to face it there was nothing there. 

“I- I didn’t mean to!” he shouted, the speech slide frantically weaving thought the trees.

“D̶ǫe͘s t͢ha̴t ͏m̴át̨t͘er?҉ ̢Yơu h̀urt̴ tḩȩm̸.́ Y̛ou'̛r̸e g͞u͝i̡l͜ty̴. Y̛ou͞'̴r͟é da̵n҉g̀e͠r͟ous͞. Yǫu͝'r͢e ha̸r͡mfu̡l͢.”

The echo grew louder, and combined with Jameson’s turning and spinning to find the source of the voice he was getting too dizzy to stand. He collapsed to his knees, holding his head. “No!”

“Yo͜ú'v͏e̢ al҉way̕s̵ ̸be҉en̡ a da͏n͠ge͞r̴,̶ ̷pupṕet̸. T͞he c̡ur̨se ̨j̨ust ̸b̸r͝ou̴gh͜t tha͞t t̸o̡ the ̴su͏rfa͢c̴e͡.̡ Yo̧u̧'r͜e ̧ju҉s̢t ͟as ͟da̸n̢g̀rous̀ to̶ the̶m͜ a̷s͜ ̢m̢e.̡”

“Be-be quiet!”

Jameson felt hands grip his shoulders. He jerked his head up and found himself staring into the eyes of Antisepticeye. They flickered between solid black and a toxic green. Jameson found it hard to look away. “Wh̶ý? ҉D́o̧e̕s t͝he̡ ̶trut͠h͢ ̛hu̧r͏t ́t͟oo mu̡c̀h?͏ Y͟ou'̢r͠é ͠m͡ine̕.͘ ͜Y͝ou ͟aļwa̕ys ҉h̸ave ́be̴e̢ń. O͝f͏ c͢o̴u͟r͝s̀e yo̸u'͏r̷e a͜ ͡r̸ós̷e.̛  Yo͜u͝ see̡m̛ ͠so̧ ͘s̀weet, ͡b͟ut ͞r̀ea͠l͢l͏y ̕y̨o̢u͞'re͞ còv̢ȩre̸d͠ ̷in ͏t҉h̶orns.”

Jameson tore his gaze away from Anti’s eyes and looked at the hand resting on his shoulder. “How-how are you not hurt?”

“B͜ec̨au̢se̛ tḩo͞rns ̴mean͡ not͢hin̨g̸ ̶to ̨me.”

Jameson tried to keep his eyes away from Anti’s, but the tip of a knife pressing into his cheek prompted him to look back into them. 

Green, black, green, black, green, black. 

“I'̷m͞ ̶t̴h̨è only͡ ̡o͡n͟e ͞w̴ho̢ ͢yo҉u̡ c͟an͠ ̶b҉e͘ ̴a͘rou̷n͜d wit̢hout̨ ͡hu̷rti͡n͜g.͠”

Green, black, green, black, green, black.

“I'͝m ͡t͜h͡e o̕nly̧ onę ẃh̶o͢ ̢yo̴u͞ ̀can̢ be̴ ̷n̨e͝a̧r̨.”

Green, black, green, black, green, black. 

“I͡’m th̕e ́only͢ o̧ne͏ ̢yo͢u ̶c͞án̢ ̕be͘ cl̛ós͢e̴ ̵to.̴”

Green, black, green, black, green, black. 

“I'͡m t́he͜ o͝nly on̵e҉ ̧y͡o̵u are ͏c͠lose ̷t͢o”.̶

Green, black, green, black, green, black.

Jameson felt dizzy, dizzier than he’d ever felt, lost in those flickering eyes. But it was becoming…familiar. Comforting.

What was Anti saying? He could hear his voice, and his words, but his mind was so foggy…

“I t͟ȩll̶ ͝you͡ ͟w̸ḩat̵ t͞o do.”

“You…tell me what to do…”

Green, black, green, black, green, black.

“Yǫu͏ ͞d̨o͝ às ͞I ͜s͠ay.”

“I…I do as…as you say…”

Green, black, green, black, green, black.

“Yo̡u ҉ar͘e͟ my̴ ̸ŕos͝e.”

“I am…your rose…”

Green, black, green, black, green, black.

“Y̴o̸u͟r ͘t͠h̨òrns ͘are̶ ̨m͞ìn̸e.”

“My thorns are…yours…”

Green black green black green black greenblackgreenblackgreenblackgreenblackgreenblackgreenblack

“Ý̷͓͔̀Ò̡҉͕̗͚̤U̳̜̼̣͕͟͝ ͏̡̖̮̳͠A͏̱̤͙͖͙R̗̗̼͟E̶̯ ͝͏͓̖̤̘̩͓̳̗͈M̶̜̹̺̻̪̥̟̝I̛͉̖̬̞̜͍̭N̬̳̝͙͞E̴̝̪.҉͎̼̻̲̬͖”

Jameson fell. He fell away from the world, into a world of flashes of green and black, a world of buzzing and static and a voice, one voice, that told him what to think. And he let it, because he was too confused and too lost to think for himself.

“I am yours.”

Anti grinned as Jameson’s eyes glazed over, static filling them. He stood up, and his puppet stood up with him, though it’s head lolled to the side a bit. “V̕͘e̸͜ry҉̨͠ ̴͘͜ǵo͞o̷͘d͝͏̢.”

His puppet didn’t even blink.

“N͜ow̶.̨..̷l͞et'́s̴ ̀pu̴t thǫse̴ ͏thor̶n͞s ̴to ̸us͠e.”

(Taglist: @victory-cookies @beerecordings @starlightxnightmare @sadcat5555 @miishae)

befuddled, swapped jackie and anyone you want

His hands were gentle against James’ temples, holding his head up and steady so they could keep their eyes locked. Janson’s chest tightened at the fatigue and sadness staring back at him, now hazing over with a thin layer of static. 

“Kee͘p your ̴e̛yes ̴on m͝e,” he instructed softly. “W͠a͠t͢c̢h the ͠s͜tatic̢ sh͠ift…It’s ͜s͜o͝ot̀h͜in͠g to ̴watch, ̕isn’t it? Let yo͏urs̵elf ̷sl̶ip d͡eep̡er a̢nd d͏èe͜pe͞r̴ i̧nto cal͝m and peace. Si͜ņk̵ ̴d̨ow̨n. Let y͜our̡ ̵stressful thoųgh̸ts haz͠e ͢ove̛r͡…You don’t need them right now.” He waited a beat, watching the younger Ego’s eyes fall half-closed, and then questioned, “W̴h̨at w̢as ̧u̧p̕s̛e̛ţtin͢g̡ you, James?”

He blinked sluggishly, lips barely moving as he mumbled. “Dunno…Can’t ’member right now…S’all fuzzy.”

Relief tingled down Janson’s spine at the words. “Good. Go̵ǫd̨. Those thoughts wi͡l͠l s͢ţa̷y̛ ͡fa̴r, fa͏r͝ àwa͝y̕ ̀u͘n̛til you’ve had a nice, ŗefr̢e͠sḩi̧n͠ǵ ̴nap. Let'̢s̵ ̴foc͡u̶s o͏n ̧tha̛t.”