#jse writing community

[pxppet]

I do wish that, with writing of JJ, people would include different types of muteness in their stories. Most people make him have what I assume is a vocal cord deformity or a removed/damaged larynx. But that barely scratches the surface of conditions that cause muteness. The majority of nonspeaking people could speak at one point or can speak depending on the situation.

Myself as an example: I have spasmodic dysphonia, which is a neurological condition where my brain sends signals to my larynx to snap shut at random when I'm attempting to speak. It's a lifelong condition that causes the muscles that generate a person’s voice to go into periods of spasm. I can speak, technically. I can make vocalizations for maybe 20 minutes worth of speech on very good days! But it causes me pain and stress the entire time. My quality of life is healthier and much happier if I use sign language and AAC applications.

A lot of conditions that cause muteness are similar, in which the nonspeaking person does not speak because it causes some sort of pain or distress. Muscle tension dysphonia, for instance, is the condition my version of JJ has. There is an abnormality in his voice box that causes him to over-use other muscles in his neck to help produce your voice. Steve-O has this condition, for example! My JJ has caused permanent damage to his voice due to Anti continuing to use his voice while possessing him even though his abnormal voice box was preventing him from speaking normally. Jameson can make strained, gravelly, whispering vocalizations, but it causes him pain. Eventually Anti has used his voice to the point he cannot speak at all due to the damage.

Selective mutism, as another example, is when a person can’t speak in certain settings, but can speak fine in others. It is usually related to stress, certain situations causing so much anxiety to the person that they are unable to speak. It is not a willful decision not to speak, it is anxiety so severe that the ability to communicate just vanishes.

As you can see, the ability to speak or make small noises for short periods of time is more common in nonspeaking conditions than a total lack of sound production. If your Jameson, for instance, had throat cancer and his voice box was completely removed, then that is different as he will not be able to produce any vocalizations. If he has this, however, he can still whistle, cluck his tongue, and make mouth noises to use as responses.

Representation of multiple types of muteness would be a dream come true for me and other nonspeaking people, who have so little representation that it's sad. Explore and learn! Branch out and learn about nonspeaking people and our struggles. Normalize our conditions by familiarizing yourself with them. The less incidents we have of people calling JJ "useless" because he doesn't talk, the better.

[kalcifers-blog]

MAG 10185 - Comatose

JSE EGOS X THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

Fanfic/Statement.

Written by Kalcifer

(Loosely inspired by this fanfic by vanyzvat!!!!)

⚠️CW: descriptions of gore, hospitals, psychological horror, mental deterioration, acts of violence and loss of sanity.⚠️

Please move forward safely!!

Statement of Doctor Henrik Von Schneeplestien, regarding a patient that never existed. Statement documented November 16th, 2018, read by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement Begins;

You see a lot of things as a doctor. A lot of very awful things. Things that you wished to never return too. I used to be able to not let things get to me, and I used to do it well.

One time a woman died in my care, aged 21. That was the first time something like that got to me. She was so young so- ready to begin her life. She was healthy too- a complete accident that took her away too short. And I couldn't help her- it drove me mad.

I don't even know how long it took me before I was able to sleep at night, but eventually I did, knowing that focusing on using her memory to motivate me to do better would allow me to save more people than wallowing in my own self pity ever could.

What I'm trying to make you understand is that I am used to seeing people during their worst moments and I am used to being able to come back from it. It's part of my job to be able too you understand.

This is why- this case- it, it worries me.

I want to believe I just lost my mind. I wished, I so utterly wished it was as simple as that. But I wouldn't be here if that was the case would I?

This all started two years ago. October 31st. I was appointed to overlook the care of a patient that had been put in a medically induced coma- after he had apparently, mutilated himself with a 7 inch kitchen knife. I won't go into detail but the wound was bad. And in my own professional opinion, the fact he survived at all was nothing short of a miracle.

I- I try to picture the man I was looking after for months. A year? I- don't know how long it was. But the image of him, it shifts in my mind- it warps like sand and everytime I think I can clearly picture him- he's faded into something completely different.

The one thing I do know for certain is that vibrant green hair he had, it was the first thing I noticed about him before I had to see that, horrid wound on his throat. I expected it to fade during his time with me. But it never did. The day he left it was just as vibrant as it was the day he arrived.

Each time I entered his room- (room 10-185) my head would start spinning. I got what I needed done, I- I attempted to treat him with the same humanity I did with all my patients, especially those who are in such conditions as he is. But every time I entered that room I felt the pressure of an intense migraine push at the front of my skull and I found myself hurrying out of his presence more times than I can count.

It was, routine as always, leaving his room only a few minutes after I entered, rushing towards the nearest bathroom when I noticed it- blood- my own blood, trickling gently down from the corneas of my eyes, staining my otherwise cleaned hospital mask. I hoped it was just my, apparently terrible vision but the blood it- it just looked too red- too vibrant- it reminded me of the man's hair that refuses to fade.

I started seeing things about three months before he left. Shadows that quickly escaped my vision as soon as I tried to look at them. The machines he was hooked up too- switching from a heartbeat monitor to awful, graphic images of visara. The lenses in cameras shifted to look like piercing eyes, flickering to stare at me and to never break their contact.

The wound should've healed by then. It should've. The man should've been dead at that point if he kept bleeding the way he did. But he didn't. He wouldn't die he just lay there. A sickening imitation of death, a mockery- towards me.

That's what it had to be. It was some cruel joke. Towards me, to give me this patient- this thing, to cause me my breakage. Why something would do this is beyond me, and why me? Its something I wished I could give an answer for.

But nothing ever changed. I just got worse. I stopped cutting my hair I think, I only barely followed the hospital guides for cleanliness as much as I could- as much as my tormentor would let me before the water in my shower turned to acid in my mind. Causing me to jump out screaming- it never was of course. It always had been water. The marks that plague my skin say otherwise but it's impossible for it to be anything other than water.

You would think the day the man left the hospital would be a joyous day for me. That I would be happy to see him finally be removed from my life. But no. Of course not. Why would I get any respite from this torment?

I came into the room, disheveled as always. And he wasn't there- I almost didn't notice it- I had gotten so far down my own delusion that I barely noticed that his presence wasn't in the room.

I almost cried with relief, until I saw the flickering of the lights. It- it was just an electrical issue- something that could be fixed- I tried to reason with myself- but the pit in my stomach knew- I just knew it was him.

The hospital stopped making noise that day. Everything stopped, it was like the world had paused. No one was there, I checked. And I checked again. And it was only the third time, after I had checked every room, every inch of the hospital, that I finally returned to room 10-185. And where my patient was waiting for me.

He was facing the wall opposite the door from which I entered. His hair was still that green colour- it- it hurt to look at. I tried not to look, but I couldn't, I felt the blood pour down my face as my eyes grew overwhelmed at the sight of the man and, all the features I can't even place in my mind.

And then- he spoke- his voice was something that could only work after doing what he did to his own throat, the very thing, the action that tied me to him. He said "I think I'm ready to be checked out. Thank you, doctor"

He turned to stare at me. At least his head did. The rest of him stayed statue still. I could hear his bones pop and his flesh tear, as he forced himself to look at me. And gave me a large smile, the blood from his throat, gushing out from between his rotted teeth like a broken faucet.

I'm sure I blacked out, I had to. Because the next moment I remember, I'm in the office of my superior. Being given the information that I had been fired. I'm sure that's what he said. The ringing static in my ears was so loud at that point, I could only piece together what he was telling me.

I didn't care at that point. I just wanted the figure that loomed over his shoulder to stop staring at me with its bloodshot eyes and broken smile.

I have no where else to go now. No one in my life that's cared to stick around will believe me. I have nothing but my story and my diminishing mind. Hopefully, I can finally get some rest at night. It is so hard too when you're being watched.

Statement ends.

After some research into this statement we have confirmed that Dr. Schneeplestien, a German man who had been living in England for upwards of 15 years, did infact work as a surgeon in the Manchester Royal Infirmary.

He was subsequently let go from his job, after neglecting his work for upwards of 15 months. It had only came into light that he was doing so, 3 months before his, very abrupt departure. He had apparently, lashed out at his superiors when he was confronted about this, leading to his almost immediate suspension- as well as arrest for assault towards a police officer, as he was forcibly removed from hospital property.

Henrik had apparently, grabbed a surgical scalpel from his lab coat- and had stabbed one of the officers in the collar. The man survived- but it is interesting to me that Henrik had very clearly, aimed for the same area as the wound of the patient he was looking after, apparently was.

Speaking of the patient- he very much does not exist. The is no record of anyone remotely similar to Schneeplestien's- albeit very vague description of the man, ever being admitted to the Manchester Royal, or existing in the first place.

I was initially tempted to appoint this in the discreated section. As to me it very much reads as the ramblings of a, clearly mentally unwell individual. However one thing that was found when doing this research, is what happened leading up to this statement being made in the first place.

Henrik Von Schneeplestien, was apparently, taken into the custody of the research facility known as I.R.I.S. a facility which, has very similar areas of study to The Magnus Institute. And apparently, take their findings with a lot more agency than the likes of The Magnus Institute. They seemingly, had allowed Henrik to make this statement to gather evidence towards- something.

I did try to reach out to them, as a follow up on this. To figure out what they could possibly need this research for. But apparently, everything about the case of Doctor Henrik Von Schneeplestien, is completely classified information. And legally, this is the only information available to the public about the doctor in any form.

After making this statement, it seems that I.R.I.S had effectively wiped any pre-existing public information of the doctor himself- other than this statement of course. For what reason, I don't know.

That just begs the question- what does I.R.I.S have to hide? I have this nagging feeling that this will not be the last we hear of I.R.I.S- or the likes of the former doctor either..

...End recording.

[jse-dnd-au]

The JSE D&D AU Pantheon

—

The Ever-Gazing One

Other names: The Ever-Gaze, The World's Visage

At the dawn of the ages over this realm, there was only The Ever-Gazing One. It was he who began the forward march of time, the outward flow of space, and the rise of life from the ground. The first races of this realm were naturally peace-loving– even those races with the innate forces of chaos and evil in their blood had their place, for everybody was seen as having value to the Ever-Gaze.

Over time, some began to question the Ever-Gazing One. They wondered how their creator could possibly understand the struggles of mortality from his pedestal in the beyond.

In response, the Ever-Gaze created five more deities to rule alongside himself– the Champion, the Magnificent, the Lifebringer, the Sharpshooter, and the Wayfarer– and imbued each one with the power of being able to walk among the mortals so that they, too, could understand their strife and be divine messengers.

However, this did not please everybody. Some of the folk who had originally questioned the Ever-Gazing One were not satisfied, and thus placed their faith elsewhere. Their collective will created That Which Observes, an opposite entity to the Ever-Gaze who promised them power in thanks for bringing it to life…

Cleric Divine Domains: Life, Light, Order Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Devotion, Oath of Redemption, Oath of the Watchers Warlock pacts that would suit this deity: The Celestial

—

That Which Observes

Other names: The Corrupting Blade, The Master of Puppets

Those who had turned from the Ever-Gazing One placed their faith in a new deity of their own creation, which they called That Which Observes. They pictured this entity as an opposite to the Ever-Gaze; where the first had light, the other darkness– and where the first had weakness, the other, immense power. Followers of That Which Observes claim they have prophetic dreams that would seem like nightmares to common folk– but instead of fear, they embrace their own strength and the strength of their new god.

Interpretations of That Which Observes vary as widely as the power it is said to wield. As eras have passed, the tale of its creation has been morphed to fit various definitions; over time, this anti-deity has gone from being a fiend to a ghost to a mere feeling and back again. But one thing remains consistent in all the tales: That Which Observes is a master of the shortblade, it being a weapon of mass corruption able to strike down even the gods themselves…

Cleric Divine Domains: Death, Trickery Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Conquest, Oath of Vengeance Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: The Fiend, The Great Old One, The Hexblade, The Undead

—

The Champion

Other names: The Hero, The Mighty Fist of Justice

The Champion was the eldest of the five deities that the Ever-Gazing One manifested for his people. He was known to lean towards methods of chaos, but also goodness and light; he wouldn't stand for tyranny of any kind, and ventures created in his name were often emboldened by his blessing, so long as they met with his approval.

Soldiers would regularly invoke the Champion's name during times of war against dark forces, such as those who followed That Which Observes. In tales of ages past, he was known as the Ever-Gaze's right hand, and the one who would strike down the forces of darkness and injustice…

Cleric Divine Domains: Forge, Light, Tempest, War Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Glory, Oath of the Watchers Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

—

The Magnificent

Other names: The Arcane Artist, The Phoenix

The second eldest of the Ever-Gaze's deity-creations, the Magnificent has long been known to be a patron of magic as well as the arts. In every interaction with the other gods, he left his mark with a certain flourish and grace, and in many depictions, he is shown as having a cape made of the entire night sky and dancing around all of existence in a single day. Because of this, the christening of many theatres, museums, and places of magical study begins with a ceremony in the name of the Magnificent.

Despite being overally benevolent, not all folk followed the Magnificent, or believed he had good intentions. These people claimed that those who followed this deity were often led astray into darkness, never to return– and this belief was not entirely unfounded. Many who invoked the Magnificent did so in the name of curiosity for the arcane, which often drew people to the shadows, and often into the sight of That Which Observes...

Cleric Divine Domains: Arcana, Twilight Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of the Ancients Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: The Archfey

—

The Lifebringer

Other names: The Giving Hand, The Judge

As neither the eldest nor the youngest of the Ever-Gaze's creations, the Lifebringer was often shown and spoken of as having a strange duality. For every person who believed him to be benevolent and merciful, there was another who saw him as ruthless and unforgiving. As a result of this, there are clerics of equal numbers on either side of this dichotomy– and the Lifebringer makes no claims to having one be truer than the other. Regardless, whether the mortals welcomed a new life into their world or lost a loved one, they would invoke the name of the Lifebringer, either to ensure a long and prosperous life or to pray that the afterlife would be welcoming to them.

Despite all of his spiritual implications, many artificers and apothecaries would call upon the Lifebringer to bless their latest studies or patients, for he was also a patron of creation and the sciences. As a result, several places of higher learning would hold special events in his name to ask for his blessing of the educational year.

Cleric Divine Domains: Light, Life, Grave Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Redemption Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

—

The Sharpshooter

Other names: The Marksman, He Who Sees True

The second youngest of those the Ever-Gazing One created to rule alongside himself, the Sharpshooter was both the patron of familial ties and of bonds of friendship. As groups of adventurers would set out for the first time, many would pray to the Sharpshooter for his blessing over the party and their growth together. Beyond that, he was also the deity known to be a guardian of nature and patron of the hunt; whenever his faithful would successfully bring home their next meal, they gave thanks to the Sharpshooter for its life.

As this deity was naturally good-aligned, many would also invoke his name in a plea for luck and good fortune. Popular sayings for those who would do this would often bid the recipient "the true aim of the Sharpshooter", so that they might get the most favorable result.

Cleric Divine Domains: Life, Nature, Peace Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of the Ancients, Oath of Redemption Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

—

The Wayfarer

Other names: The Traveler, The Hand of Fate

The Wayfarer was the youngest of the deities of the Ever-Gaze, but was still given a task that proved to be of great importance; he was to keep watch over time itself, and to make sure that everything which had a beginning also earned its rightful end. Matters of diplomacy often began with the invocation of the Wayfarer so that he might bless both parties with lasting peace.

His position over time itself left him with an overally neutral outlook; while he leaned more towards goodness in his actions, he understood that sometimes evil was necessary to bring it about. This caused a lot of people to question those of his faith of how they could be so certain of future events, and even led to some falsely claiming that they could call upon the Wayfarer's own power over fate in order to perform the impossible– but true clerics of the deity knew better than to meddle with things beyond their control; everything would sort itself out with time, after all.

Cleric Divine Domains: Knowledge, Order Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of the Watchers Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

—

[dmnfox]

Henrik Reference Sheet // @10ths-writing-corner Design // Commission

For a long time I’ve been drawing this man, idk what it is about him but he is an addiction to draw. It was such an honour to have the opportunity to put together his reference sheet and with permission, gave him a smidge of design adjustments for a unique look. 

Easier for me to remember his scars. ------

Henrik design (c) @10ths-writing-corner Art (c) @dmnfox 

Please do not repost or use

[epicseptic]

I know I haven't been on Tumblr lately in ages but I came out with my own October prompt list. I've been simping a lot for the fictional men lately and tried to make use of it. Feel free to join in if you'd like.

[number1120]

Subject R.T.Z.

For @d-structive... based off of this.

Tw: gore, death mentioned, mention of abuse, mention of sexual abuse, slight mention of rape

Welcomed readers: @10th-no-name-person

********************************

"What has he been doing?"

"Since he's got here?" The nurse looked back at Dr. Reese then back at the one-way window. "Subject R.T.Z. just been taping his fingers, muttering about something," the nurse started clicking their mouse and pulled up the electronic file of the subject. "Honestly, I'm getting freaked out by how calm he is."

Dr. Reese pulled back his short brown hair as he started to put it up in a bun. "It's good that he's calm, right? That mean less work for The Guard."

The nurse looked back at him then at the screen. "According to his files, he's, well... dangerous." The nurse pulled up pictures of the basement that they found the subject in. "I mean, no one in their right mind would do something like this!"

The pictures showed a blood smeared basement. The dark black floors with puddles of blood here and there, names written in blood on the walls, body parts moved and mismatched from different people laid on the stain table like a puzzle. Next to the table, operating tools and different knives laid too neat in a tray, all clean, perfect, and ready to be used on their next target. Mangled bookshelves lined the wall with jars filled to the brim with organs like hearts, livers, lungs. What really got Dr. Reese to look away was a jar filled with different eyes, all stained with dried blood and ripped muscles, looking right into the camera as if they could see through his soul.

"He doesn't have a mind, Tim," Dr. Reese informed. "Remember? R.T.Z. have a mixed brain, so his mind will forever be gone." Then he looked up at the subject and shuddered. "He's a zombie. He's not alive."

"If he's so gone, then how can he talk? Feel? Move, Reese?" Tim looked up at him from the desk then back at the subject, who was now looking through his own file. A smirk started to form over his lips as he went through the missing person's list. "Why is he smiling?"

Before Dr. Reese could answer, a voice came over the speaker. "Because they got what they fucking deserve."

Their eyes shot up and were terrified to see the subject looking at them-- right at them.

His ghostly white eyes held no emotion as he looked back at the files, finding a missing person, and showed the person. "See this man? He molested three fourteen-year-old girls and two boys. I took my fucking time with him, and I sent all his body pieces to the victims. Shit," he laughed, "one of them sent me a thank-you card!" Then the subject flipped through more of the files and showed a picture of a woman. "She abused her kids while on drugs and drunk! The police knew and did nothing. Like, what the hell? Oh! And this guy?" He picked up the picture under the woman's file. "He abused his wife and forced himself onto his son!" With one motion, he angrily pushed the files off the table. "That man's son begged me to kill his father because this place wouldn't do a thing! I even let him have the last blow! And," his harden voice softened for just a moment, "I even comforted him afterwards. I don't like hugs or giving affection, but he needed it!"

Robbie's voice harden once more as his eyes narrowed right at the doctor. "You sick bastards watched as these families suffered and did nothing! So, I took matters in my own two hands."

After calming his shaking breath, Dr. Reese stepped closer to the window and pressed a button to talk to him. "Can you see us?"

The subject let out another laugh. "I wish! But, no. I can hear you and that little mouse at your hip. Tell me, doctor," he leaned back in his chair and lifted a brow, "when are you going to tell your wife that you and that little thing have been fucking in the closet? Or," he cocked his head to the side, his smile still wide, "do I need to send your dick in a box, perfectly wrapped, with a pretty bow?"

Dr. Reese's eyes narrowed as he felt his anger grow with a mixture of anxiety. "How do you--"

"But, before we go any farther, you know your fancy chains wouldn't hold me, right, gentlemen?" He held up his wrist and pulled tightly on the chains and snapped the cuffs in half. He stood up and stretched as Dr. Reese frantically pressed the bright red panic button on the desk, Tim standing from his seat in a sweat.

"Subject R.T.Z., sit--"

"My name is Robbie," the zombie snapped, a hand running through his bright lavender hair. "And I'm not a fucking subject!" His hand hooked around the chair and threw it at window, cracking it slightly. His white eyes started to burn as he looked right at the window. "Henrik made me! He made me to be stronger and brighter than him!" He picked up the chair again and threw it harder at the window, breaking it more. "I am not yours! I am not your toy! I am a goddamn person!"

"That's not alive!" Dr. Reese yelled at the window. Any minute now, armed guards in tackle suits will be breaking down the door and taking him out. "You are not human--!"

Robbie picked up the chair and threw it again, shattering the window in a perfect throw. Dr. Reese stumbled back and held up his arm to shield himself from the flying glass. Pieces covered his arms and scattered like rain and bullets. As he lowered his arm, he saw Robbie's shadow standing in the dim light, his eyes glowing in the darkness, his hands balled into fists. For a moment, a brief moment, he looked like Patient A, and that scared Dr. Reese. Shaking, he stumbled back, shielding the nurse behind him. Outside, he could hear guards coming their way, their gear hitting each other.

The zombie rolled his shoulders, cracking his muscles with ease. "Twenty seconds, doctor," he hummed as he placed his foot on the broken window, jumping the broken window with ease. "It takes twenty seconds to rip out a throat." Madness filled his as hand hand picked up a shard of glass. "And I would love for another doctor like yourself to see my art."

[everythingjacksepticeye]

A Small Request

Hello everyone! I hope everyone is having a good day whenever you happen to read this.

I don't normally post things like this on here, but I've been very tight on money lately and I've been trying to push my side gigs out a bit more to help with bills coming up and groceries, and I felt like maybe I could give it a try to get the word out to this community as well.

If anyone finds themselves interested in helping out - here are some services that I offer:

- I'm a proofreader and love giving writing advice and ideas. I've helped proofread college papers before and personal stories, and overall am willing to give anything a look-see! I'm willing to negotiate prices and my hours are flexible - so I'd totally be up for being a long-term proofreader that you could turn to if needed.

- I also do tarot and oracle readings! I have an etsy shop for this in particular, and would be happy to do a reading for you if you're interested in that kind of thing. If you don't see a reading that interests you in my shop, I'm also willing to accommodate and do a more custom reading for you outside of those listings as well! I'll be including the link to that shop at the bottom of this post.

- If none of these services interest you, I am taking donations to my PayPal (link just below this) as well if you'd still like to help out in some way. Please don't feel obliged to donate, though! I understand completely and a simple reblog will be just as appreciated. ❤️

PayPal

[k9povnd]

[Listen to September by Sparky DeathCap]

[MH!au oneshot/spinoff]

Chase felt a shiver up his wingless back as he walked inside the house, only with a backpack with a few essentials with him and his australian shepherd Latte, who immediately found itself at home. He instinctively went to scratch the deep scar on his forehead. This was the house where it happened after all, but a pale gentle hand with polished nails stopped him.

"It's okay Chaser, no more."

Chase smiled warmly. The house had been completely renovated by the staying couple since he had moved out. The stench of blood and sickness was long gone and it was now replaced by the smell of houseplants and the sea outside.

There were no screams or cries, no pleads, no bloodtrails, or fighting. The house was warm and perfectly lidded. The basement now returned to what it was designed to be... a simple basement for storage and to keep all of Marvin's books in. Jackie and Marvin watched the head-winged man walk around the house carefully, they knew there was no real danger since they had gotten rid of all the furniture Chase had seen when they all lived there, and thankfully the most that happened was small moments of panic expecting to see something that would remind him of when he died.

They agreed to let Chase sleep with them until he was ready to stay in his room on his own, and helped him settled in. He would be borrowing Jackie's clothes until he built a wardrobe of his own again, and spend most of his time resting until he was ready to start filming again.

Despite the cushy treatment, Chase didn't want to start spending his days locked up at home all the time again, so he decided he'd sing at Marvin's café and help there until he found another film job.

Everything was good. His scars didn't open anymore, and slowly but surely all faded thanks to Marvin's care and magic. He was happy and loved by his partners and reconnected with the friends who believed him to have disappeared years ago. The screaming and heartache didn't crush his body anymore. He was happy, finally where he belonged, finally able to mourn.

[burningbirb]

ALTR 090713 (Recovered Recording)

[CLICK]

[RECORDING STARTS]

“Now what do we have today.. ah 090713″ 

“right.”

[CLEARS THROAT]

“File 77 first archived on July 9th 2013 recorded by [REDACTED] on November 14th 2022.” 

“ALTR 090713 was discovered in a local shelter, mistaken for a normal stray cat it was taken in and taken care of. Soon after, staff noticed tools, food supplies and cups disappearing from the facility.” 

“According to witness (02) there was nothing worrisome about this situation at first nothing went missing that couldn't be replaced until a staff member forgot to feed the specimen. The forgetful witness (01) was exposed to ALTR 090713′s unstable form the next morning and has since been taken by the C&C and given over to our I.R.I.S faculty members for interrogation.”

“I will now play a piece of said interrogation.” 

[CLICK]

I.R.I.S:

“So, how are you feeling [R3DCαTED]?”

Witness (01):

“Feeling..” 

“Feelings are …so distant.” 

[COLD LAUGH] 

I.R.I.S: 

“Do you remember what ALTR 090713 did to you?”

Witness (01): 

“So that’s what you call them..“

“Does it really matter if i do?” 

“I know i’m not getting out of here, your friend told me so.”

I.R.I.S:  

“Doctor [REDACTED] means well, we all just want to help you.”

“The more we know more about it, the easier it will be to find and contain it.” 

“See, we’re not a bad company, we protect subj- people like you.”

Witness (01): 

“Right.” 

[PAUSE]

“I’ll tell you what i can remember.”

[CLICK]

“Alright, let’s continue.”

“What we know about ALTR 090713″ :

“This ALTR is able to communicate through telepathy with it’s prey but it isn’t in a language known to humanity, the only one who can understand it is it’s prey with which it forms a strange connection. It can also make objects disappear, which was captured by security cameras in the shelter. In witness (01)s case they described it as friendly like any normal pet, this lead our researchers to believe it must be powerful and manipulative. The encounter obviously left a piece of their mind missing.”

“Once this ALTR is unstable DO NOT look at it.” 

“DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT.” 

“This is why it must be fed regularly.”

“Witness (01) describes being drawn in by it’s eye’s, suddenly feeling the cold and darkness creep in like being lost and floating in space. They could see it’s true form but before anything could have been said between them witness (02) pulled them out of it.”

[SIGH]

“And that’s all we have.”

“We never managed to find and contain this.. thing.” 

“But recently I've noticed a concerning amount of stray cats in the area.”

“End recording.”

[CLICK]

[ @altr-archives ] [ @tracobuttons ] 

[drebur123]

The Next-Door Neighbor | Jameson Jackson X Fem!Reader

The Next-Door Neighbor | Jameson Jackson X Fem!Reader

Prompt: "You shouldn't have"

Day: 2/25 (I'm only doing 25 days)

~~~~~

Ok. First box down, ten more to go. I'm moving into a new apartment complex today. It's been about a year since I ended up in the year 2022. After a rough start I found myself a job at the local "McDonalds". I know fast food is a far cry from my previous career, but as far as I know they don't really make silent films anymore. 

After a bit of working at McDonalds I got myself a tiny apartment with a roommate. Now I'm moving into one of my own. I think it'll be better now that I don't live with a guy who's bringing over someone every other night. 

After what seems like forever of getting boxes from the U-Haul downstairs, I finally sit down on the couch that came with the apartment. There are two rooms to my new living space. The bedroom and the main area. 

A knock on the door causes me to jump. It's always awkward answering the door due to me not being able to speak. I open the door to see the same person I saw while moving the boxes standing there with smaller box in hand. 

"Hello," she greets. I smile at her signing a hi. "Oh, I don't speak sign language. Wait, can you hear me?" I nod and hold up one finger before rushing to find a notepad and a pen. I find the one I took from the hotel yesterday and return to the door with a letter that reads "Hi, I'm Jameson."

She reads over the message before responding. "I'm y/n. I saw that you just moved in, and I had an extra pie, so I brought it for you." Y/n gestures for me to take the box from her arms. I grab it setting it on the table next to me before jotting down another note.

"Oh, you shouldn't have. Thank you." 

"It's my pleasure. I feel like greeting your new neighbor with a sweet is one of those things that was sadly lost in time." I nod not remembering getting a greeting from any neighbor when I moved into my last apartment, let alone a dessert. 

"Thanks again." I write. "No problem. By the way, do you have anything to do on Christmas eve?" I shake my head no. Since arriving in the future, it's been quite lonely. "Oh, cool. I'm hosting a party at my place," Y/n points to the door across from mine, "and you're invited if you want to come."

"Sure. I'll be there." I write back. She smiles. "See you then?" I nod. "See you then." With that she turns away and wanders into the apartment across from mine and I close the door. I guess I have plans now. 

[soap-stains]

Observations of ALTR 1915168

-------

ALTR 1915168 appears similar to that of a young human, though age is unknown. The color of their hair changes frequently and randomly, but is never a natural color. They are rather short, and their eyes are a dull blue. Recordings appear to show a shift of color to orange when singing. Their front teeth appear to be sharp and pointed. When feeling threatened, they may make growling or hissing sounds. A small scar can be spotted on their forehead, but the origin is unknown. This ALTR moves quickly, do not leave doors open.

She does not speak, instead communicating through American Sign Language or writing. However, she does sometimes sing when there are no scientists in close proximity. The only known instance of a scientist being close enough to listen ended with them in a state of mental and physical exhaustion; they claimed that all strength had left their body, and they could barely even stand. 1915168 refuses to submit to testing of this effect. Meanwhile, listening to xir singing in recordings seems to have minor exhaustive effects. It is advised not to listen to the ALTR's singing until further research can be conducted. Any other abilities are not yet known.

In states of anger or boredom, 1915168 tends to get aggressive. Xe was given a tablet with artistic applications to keep xirself occupied after seeming unsatisfied with paper; do not, under any circumstances, attempt to take it from xir. No one is permitted to touch the tablet unless xe hands it to them. Prolonged silence or states of isolation give her anxiety. She has a strong aversion to touch and eye contact. No major injuries have been inflicted on personnel as of yet.

Frequently, they will mention having brothers, but will rarely elaborate when questioned about them. All efforts to find family members have been fruitless. Should any be found- especially the theoretical ALTR 22911, the sibling they mention the most- they should be brought in and contained as well.

Thus far, ALTR 1915168 has proven friendly when exposed to other ALTRs and is "interested in learning more about *[them.]" However, due to aforementioned issues, she must be monitored during interactions. Xe has shown interest in befriending ALTR 14 after a brief meeting, though this is not advised.

Xe has not been as friendly to most personnel, save for a connection with Dr. Wright. She has shown great understanding of the ALTR's boundaries, and has even been able to deter xir from attacking another researcher. She also refers to the ALTR as "Sophie." See next page for her contact information if having difficulties with ALTR 1915168.

Though originally uncooperative when being contained, they seem to be content staying at I.R.I.S.'s facility. No escape attempts have been made since arrival. Nonetheless, they should be closely monitored.

*the ALTR's exact wording was "people like me." Aggressive behavior noted when told that ALTRs are not "people."

-------

[ original by @tracobuttons , inspired by @n-anon ]

[ @altr-archives ]

[bookwormscififan]

Happy Birthday, Henrik

Buy me a coffee?

Read on AO3!

A/N: Inspired by this post from @a-septic-mind where Jackie returns and Henrik punches him in the face. Also happy birthday, doctor-man!

Henrik was tired. He always seemed tired these days, researching all day and all night.

He even forgot it was his birthday. That is, until Chase came into the room to drag him out.

“Come on, Hen! It’s your birthday, and we have a surprise for you!” he slurred, clearly intoxicated, as he pulled Henrik into the dining room.

The other egos stood around the table, a large blue birthday cake in the centre of the wooden surface.

“Happy birthday!” They all cheered, smiling as Henrik made a subtle head count. Chase. Jameson. Robbie. Marvin. Sam.

He sat at the table and let the others shower him with gifts, forcing smiles as he opened sweater after sweater.

“Happy birthday, Schneeps,” a voice over his shoulder whispered, and the other egos went silent as they stared behind him with growing excitement.

Henrik stood up, turning around slowly to see who had arrived.

“Jackie! You came back!” Marvin’s excited voice greeting his brother reached Henrik before the red of the hero’s hoodie registered in his eyes.

“Jackie… you’ve returned…” Henrik muttered, watching as Jackie took a step back and grinned.

“Yep! I found my way back, and I doubt that glitch will show up anytime-” he was cut off as Henrik landed a forceful punch to his jaw, felling the hero almost instantly.

“Henrik! Why would you do that?” Marvin yelled as he crouched beside his brother. Henrik shrugged, holding his now sore hand.

“He disappeared on us when we needed him most.”

“That doesn’t mean you punch him in the face! He was gathering information to help you!”

“I never said I needed help.”

[aujbabeyy]

please oh my god my comfort creators that i always go back to are jacksepticeye and watcher. i’ve learned that when i find myself watching a lot of youtube, specifically these channels, i might be on the brink of a depressive episode. i instinctively go back to them because they make me happy. shane madej and sara rubin are engaged and seán just did a wired autocomplete interview and ryan bergara and his fiancée marielle scott are living their best life and taking engagement photos. and i’m so happy for them, these people who i don’t know but know about, who don’t know me or know my excitement about the things they share about their lives. i’m a little jealous, they’re living their lives and i feel like i’m not yet. but i’ll get there. and they’re giving me the hope and happiness that i need to do so.

[axiorah]

Deadline (discontinued)

Part 1

"Okay. Just a bit more comfrey and this should... speed up the process."

Sprinkling the leaves into a beaker, the bubbling liquid foamed and swirled. The contents emitted an almost celestial glow as the man adjusted his mask with a focused scowl.

Marvin, a renowned magician he calls himself, was working on his latest batch of potions within his room. Many pictures and herbs hanged on the walls and ceiling, with candles slowly melting into the windowsill. The morning light filtered through the cracks of the blackout curtains as they trembled, causing the magician to divert his gaze. Nothing caught Marvin's attention as he scanned his surroundings. 'Must be imagining things,' he thought to himself, turning back to his work.

Little did he know, a tall figure emerged from the darkness, a static hum emanating from its body as it crept closer to the unsuspecting magician. With a wide, manic grin, the creature quickly grabbed Marvin by the shoulders and screeched. Marvin scrambled to get away, screaming for help as he quickly whirled around and fumed at who he saw.

"What the fuck are you doing, Anti? You could've killed us!"

The figure, Anti, hunched over with laughter as he leaned on Marvin's desk. "You should've seen your fucking face! Oh my god, that was wonderful!" He teased as Marvin cleaned up the many broken potions that had fallen over. "Yeah, well, you wouldn't have been laughing if we had been blown to bits," Marvin scolded. "I thought I told you to stay out of my room."

Anti rolled his eyes once his laughter subsided. "I get bored, Marv. Why do you have to be such a killjoy?" Picking up a piece of glass, he flicked it over to the trash as Marvin finally finished cleaning and sighed. "How have you not found a place yet? Chase, Henrik, all the others have finally made it to their homes and moved on. Why do you still stay here?" Anti chuckled, "Because we both know you'd miss me." Marvin, not amused, crossed his arms as he looked at him. "I'm serious."

The cocky smile soon fell from Anti's face as the mood of the room changed. He shifted, averting his gaze as he tried to ignore the burning stare from Marvin. "I'm working on it," he grumbled out. "It's not exactly easy to find a house when I look like, you know," he gestured to himself, showing off his admittedly threatening, glitchy aura. "Besides!" Anti exclaimed. "You can stand to be around me for a few more weeks."

"I'd rather be dead that endure such torture," Marvin said sarcastically. He shook his head in defeat and turned back to his work. "Now go away and do something productive for once." Anti scowled and walked over to the door with an annoyed scoff. "You could also stand to lose that attitude. It's not a good look," he muttered, but was unable to get through the door as Marvin spun around. "Oh shut up, Anti! I'm getting sick of your own attitude!" He growled. "You need to get it together and stop being such a prick!"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Anti gasped, glaring back at Marvin. "Sounds like somebody needs to get off their fucking high horse! You know, you're not this perfect saint you always make yourself to be," he explained. "You're always so stuck up and pretentious and act like you're better than everyone!"

The air around the two was tense as they argued and fought. But, little did they know, a potion Marvin forgot to clean slowly bubbled and evaporated. A thick smoke slowly rose from the spot and filled the room. It started leaving a sweet, sickly scent, but Anti and Marvin were too busy yelling at each other to even notice. The potion soon took its toll as Marvin became the first to feel lightheaded. He stammered, "I... Hold on, I..." but soon fell over and passed out. Anti's eyes widened with worry, kneeling over to try and see what was wrong before falling unconscious as well. Only the sound of their bodies contorting and shifting could be heard in the room as the candles went out.

[epicseptic]

Erseptyl

Ch1 | Where it begins

Word Count 3,573

I haven't continued this au for a long time but I'm ready to get back into it! I'm very out of practice with writing but I guess I have to start somewhere. Thank you @geekyfox2 for helping me out with this!

. . . .

Jackie was used to getting up early in the mornings. He ran the only horse stable in all of town which was fully open to the community. People who traveled in and out of town to deliver parcels or explore the city often left their horses in his care so that they could take care of their business or so that they could spend the night at one of the many inns without worrying about their steeds' wellbeing. It was a never ending job but Jackie loved it. He loved working with the noble stallions and tending to their every need. It had always brought him a warm sense of joy and purpose to serve his community.

It used to be such a delightful job…

Things just hadn't been the same as they were in the past. The town used to be absolutely bustling with vendors beckoning on the side of the roads. Travelers from faraway villages toured the sights and shopped for souvenirs while children ran and laughed in the streets.

It used to be such a lively and welcoming place to be, but there was none of that now. Ever since the prince had suddenly vanished 3 years ago.

No one knew what happened to him. They were all told that the prince was tragically killed in the night, but they were never told how. Neither was there ever a body to bury. There was no evidence of a murder either but what were they supposed to believe?

The royal bloodline was destroyed and the throne was quickly succeeded by the second in command to the prince, and he was an awful man. Because of him, no one dared step foot outside anymore. Not unless they absolutely had to anyway.

People still worked their jobs but the streets weren't as lively or populated as they used to be. Businesses were failing due to the lack of customers and there were no more tourists to bring them their business. Only few people visited the town now, but only if they were permitted by the king to bring trades to supply the shops. Nothing more, nothing less.

In fact, by order of the new king, no resident of the city was even allowed to leave the city walls unless they were given royal permission. Failure to abide by his rules would lead to an unrecoverable punishment. More often than not, that punishment was served with death. 

That's right. Anti had everyone in town wrapped around his little finger. To him, they were nothing more than pawns on a chessboard. They were just his tools to provide for him and his ultimate goal to expand his empire with the threat of war.

Ever since he came into power… It seemed as though life had literally been sucked away from the town.

Jackie still tended to the stables despite it all, but there really wasn't much to do anymore. The only horses he had left were his own, his brother's, and the kind old blacksmith down the road. Unfortunately, no travelers meant no horses, and that meant no income. Nobody had need for a stable anymore, not even the king. The selfish prick…

"It's just another quiet day, isn't it Sam?" Jackie was gently brushing through his steed's shiny, brown coat while the horse himself munched away at a pile of hay. The little glutton practically ignored his master's statement but then again, it wasn't like he was going to respond with words or anything. Jackie simply sighed in response to the silence.

The day really was quiet. It always was. It didn't help that the air was always so crisp and chilly, and the sky was always covered by a gloomy blanket of clouds. It made everything feel so… empty. It's like the earth itself was mourning. Kind of like a dry, lifeless tree in the middle of a scorched, vacant field. Colorless and gray…

It was depressing to say the least and even though he tried not to let it get to him, he couldn't stand this feeling anymore. Every day he was walking on glass shards and he was tired. Tired of feeling like a caged bird. Did anyone else around him even feel this way? He solemnly looked to the ground and sighed.

"Things really aren't what they used to be-"

"Mornin' bro!" Jackie felt an abrupt slap on his back, interrupting his private heart to heart with his horse. The scare caused him to drop the brush in his hand and he quickly whipped his head around to find Angus walking behind him.

"Oh… hey," Awkwardly, he offered his brother a friendly smile.

"Hey, Sam is looking pretty good there," Angus remarked, nodding his head in the horse's direction. He turned his attention to the horse in the next aisle over with a beautiful white and tan pattern. "Huh. So is Patches… Did you fix her up already?" He seemed genuinely astonished at how quickly his brother was able to get everything done. 

"Yep, I'm pretty much done with everything here. I fed the horses, cleaned their hooves, fixed their shoes, brushed their manes and coats-"

"Geez!" Angus interrupted. "Save some work for the rest of us! How are you gonna get through the rest of the day without crashing?" He gave a light-hearted chuckle and ruffled up his brother's hair, earning a frustrated growl from him.

"Heh, I think I'll manage," he said plainly as he ran his fingers through his hair to smooth out the now messy strands. "Think we should start heading over to Shawn's right about now?"

"Might as well. It's still early but it's not like there's much else to do." He suggested rather calmly.

Shawn had been a good friend of theirs ever since they moved into town. He ran his own general store and had been incredibly successful ever since he opened his doors. When they had first met Shawn, his store was being robbed by a couple of outlaws.

At the time, Jackie and Angus had only been living in town for about a month and were on their way to do their weekly supply run when they saw people screaming and running away from the shop's front doors. Without hesitation, the two of them rushed in and drew their weapons, ready for confrontation.

When they entered, four men were haggling and threatening poor Shawn to hand over his coins, pointing daggers to his face and blocking any possible escape. The pair split up the group and swiftly tied them up, turning them over to the authorities and overall earning the shop owner's respect.

Shawn wasn't always the best at communicating his emotions, but the pair knew he was grateful nonetheless. After that whole fiasco, they were always more than welcome to come by the shop for anything.

In fact, ever since the stable's business began to falter, Shawn kindly offered his friends a job to earn some extra money. It was such a kind thing for him to do, especially since his own income took a bit of a fall itself.

The shop wasn't far; just up the road from the stables and up a small set of stairs next to a soup kitchen. It was only about a ten minute walk to get there and the brothers chatted amongst themselves the whole way. 

"Hmm… You think we should make a casserole for dinner?" Jackie asked, looking straight up at the cloudy sky above. He was almost trying to make their schedule sound busier than it really was.

"Sounds good to me!"

"Pfft, everything sounds good to you. You eat like a hog-" Jackie jested.

"Not true! I don't eat asparagus. It's disgusting-"

His defensive response made him chuckle. "For being the older one, I think you're being a little dramatic. But whatever, I won't put any asparagus in the casserole-"

"Shhh-" He suddenly ordered, putting his hand out in front of Jackie, signaling him to zip it.

All joking suddenly stopped and Jackie focused his attention forward. In front of them were two guards performing their daily patrols. Their uniforms were an ashy shade of black and their eyes, as usual, were hidden by their hoods. They were faceless; like they were purely made from shadows. One thing was for sure, they didn't feel human.

Hundreds of these guys suddenly showed up when the new king had come into power. They appeared from nowhere but they carried out every one of the King's sinister desires. They enforced every outrageous law and detained anyone who merely looked at them wrong.

THEY were the reason the streets were empty. It was because of them no one dared to leave their homes unless it was absolutely necessary for survival.

Jackie knew better than to look into their eyes - if they even HAD eyes anyway. The two soldiers were walking in their direction, heading down the path they just came from. Jackie kept his mouth shut and stared at the road ahead of him and Angus did the same. However, Jackie could feel the weight of their gaze on him and just as their shoulders had passed each other, his eyes couldn't help but dart up to catch a glimpse of the soldier closest to them.

The man was looking directly at him and his breath hitched in his throat when he met his cold eyes. For a short moment, he waited for that dreaded call to halt and stay where he was, but thankfully the soldiers ignored him without a single word.

He sighed with relief before flinching at the sound of Angus' subtle tone.

"Never know what will get you in trouble these days…" He took a peek behind him to give a disgusted glare at the men walking away from them before turning his head back around.

Jackie watched him and silently agreed. At this point, if even one thing was out of place, you could easily be arrested or fined. It was unfair, yes, but that was how they liked it. The soldiers wanted a reaction out of people - to hear them plead for mercy - so that they could arrest them for being disorderly. It was entertainment for them…

With a shake of his head, he pushed those bitter thoughts away from his mind. It was too early to be tiptoeing around these assholes. He just really didn't want to think about it right now. "C'mon, we're almost to Shawn's. Let's just go…"

—

The door to the general store swung open and the sound of a brass bell rang to alert the shop owner of a customer.

Shawn turned his head to glance at the door from behind the counter where he was unpacking some boxes.

"Well you guys sure are early," he remarked, stopping to reach below the counter for another, rather large, box. "Your shifts don't start for another couple of hours."

"Eh, business at the stables is slow as ever. We decided to make ourselves useful over here," Angus fidgeted with a price tag on a jar of raisins that was sitting on a shelf.

"Don't touch that, you'll break it."

"Whoops-" he quickly let go of it per the shopkeeper's request, not even questioning how Shawn knew he was touching it when he was crouched down behind the counter. "Sorry."

Jackie on the other hand snickered at the nervous look on his brother's face.

"Well, in other words, I'm actually glad you guys are here-" Shawn called out from behind the counter, standing up and heaving a heavy crate onto the counter with a loud thud. "I finally got a new shipment and it's a rather large one. I need you guys to help me stock the shelves."

Jackie instinctively walked to the counter and started picking apart the contents of the box. "Are these all just fruits? Don't you need other stuff too?"

"Oh trust me, there's about a dozen more crates in the back." The shop was in dire need of a restock indeed and Shawn had been waiting at least a month for this shipment. He'd requested an order for fruits, spices, bread, candy… Everything a general store should have and it seemed like he finally received all he'd been waiting for. "Well, it looks like we've got a long day of sorting ahead of us. On your feet, get started!"

—

The day dragged on and on until the sun was beginning to set behind the horizon. Angus continued tidying up and sorting the merchandise on the shelves while Jackie carefully swept up the dirt tracked onto the wooden floors.

Business was no better, with only a handful of customers coming in to shop. Shawn stood by the counter where he added up the store's weekly earnings. Suddenly, his voice broke the silence.

"Ugh, I tell you, this shop isn't going to last another month at this rate." He dropped a handful of coins onto the counter out of frustration. The sound of small metal coins against the wood counter startled the other two men from their concentration.

"Well, there's not much else we can do about it." Angus was the first to speak up with a dismissive shrug. "Unless, of course, you would rather complain to the king and let his men dismember you." He was being a bit spiteful but Shawn seemed to take it in a totally different direction.

"Hah, how much do you think each appendage would go for? 50 shillings?" Shawn laughed, genuinely intrigued by Angus's sarcasm.

"Do you really think you are worth that much? Sounds narcissistic if you ask me."

Jackie quietly listened on to their conversation, sweeping away at the dirt that was caught between the floorboards, not really engaging in their spiteful exchange.

"You are right, Angus. Perhaps the king would rather display my mug on his mantle!"

He stopped sweeping and grimaced at the awful image of it.

"Please, that honor probably belongs to the prince, dude."

His blood suddenly ran cold at the mention and his grip on the broom tightened.

"I'll admit, you may be right. I mean, as much as you'd like to pretend, he's sure not in the dirt-"

"Shut up!" Jackie's voice suddenly interrupted their incessant, insensitive joking. They hadn't noticed his expression until they heard him interject. He was trembling and he dropped the broom he was holding onto the floor. "I cannot believe you guys would joke about this! How tone-deaf can you be!?"

After years of suffering in this tyranny, he felt his quiet, brave demeanor beginning to crack. He had suffered quietly for so long but he couldn't bite his tongue anymore. Not at this. He'd reached his boiling point.

Angus was shocked to say the least. He'd never seen an outburst like this come from his brother before and he was instantly concerned. "Whoa, we didn't mean any harm. It's just… We just thought cracking some jokes would be a good way to lighten the mood."

"Don't you think you went a little too far!? Do you not see the hell we are living in? Does it mean nothing to you!?"

"Jackie, calm down. We have been living this way for years now. Don't you think it's time to move forward? Stop grieving over what happened and accept that we are in the shit?" Shawn tried to reason with him, but Angus quickly noticed that his tone was too harsh.

"Now wait a minute, Shawn. Jackie, you know he doesn't mean-"

"How can you be so insensitive! How can you so easily move on when our people are being oppressed and murdered in the streets!?" He balled his hands into fists. He couldn't control his frustration; he was so disgusted at how they could mention the prince's name like this. "And the prince? The prince was a symbol of our freedom! Don't you dare speak ill of him!"

"Is that the problem? Jackie, the prince is dead, gone just like the king and queen. I'm sure he doesn't care what I say about him." He had a very calm expression on his face. It was like he was stone. How could he be so cold toward their situation? "Look, I am just saying, the sooner you stop caring about the past, the sooner you can move on and ignore it." 

Shawn really wasn't one to sugarcoat his words… But it wasn't something Jackie could accept. He would never, ever forget that day… The day all of the townspeople were called to the main square where the horrific, life changing news was broken.

—

The morning was particularly cloudy. So much so, it hardly seemed like the sun had even risen. The bells tolled, ringing loudly and calling everyone to gather in the square for an important announcement.

It was Anti himself that stood upon the center pedestal with a couple of bodyguards at his sides. He wasn't even phased when he spoke the words. Like he felt no emotion at all…

Jackie remembered every word of his speech.

"Good people of Erseptyl, I bring you solemn news today. It pains me to tell you that the young prince is no longer with us. It is truly a tragedy that we should lose the last remnant of our beloved royal family at such a crucial time-"

Upon hearing the news, pained cries of grief and panic erupted from the crowd. Jackie could remember his heart dropping when he learned of the prince's fate. Over the sound of people wailing and screaming, Anti had to raise his voice to continue.

"Yes, a truly sad time this is for all of us. But fear not, good people. You will not be without a guide, for I have a solution for you. From this moment on, as the late prince's royal advisor and second in command to the throne, I will be taking on the burden of being your King…"

Was he allowed to do that? Could he really just claim the throne like this? Weren't there rules for situations like this?

No one had the courage to question him. They were all stricken with grief and fear. They couldn't speak. All they could do was cry and murmur to each other about what they were going to do next.

Jackie didn't have the courage to ask either. Even his normally fearless brother had an empty, thoughtless look in his eye as he stared down at the ground in horror.

It was so unreal, you could mistake it all for a joke. Just a cruel prank that went a little too far.

Everything became all too real when hundreds of guards began flooding the streets and lowering the kingdom's flags from their poles. Oh gods. They were serious…

The entire bloodline… Gone.

"I have worked alongside both the late King and the Prince. I know the ins and outs of this kingdom and I know, better than anyone, how to lead this kingdom down the path of its true potential."

It was unthinkable. How did this happen? Why? Why all of a sudden?

It was all happening too fast! Just slow down, please!

"Believe in me and I promise you, you will never know a ruler quite like me…"

No, it was a lie. This was fake; a setup. His words were so sinister… Something was wrong. This didn't just happen!

It's too late to ask questions…

—

"Do you not remember just how beloved he was? He was the kindest, most fair ruler we'd ever had…" He spoke fondly of the old days, but his tone was twisted with heartbreak. Kind of like being homesick…

Shawn simply shook his head and sighed. "Why do you care so much about the prince all of a sudden?"

"All of a sudden…?" He was shocked. How could they no longer care!? "This is nothing new, Shawn! Did you never question it? The prince's sudden disappearance? The sudden rise to power? Did you not see something wrong with it? Or do you just fail to care…" His tone only became more and more bitter while he glared in Shawn's direction.

"Listen to me. You are stuck in the past. I do not question it because it will fix nothing. The prince is dead. Move on. I have and I'm doing just swell." He was genuinely trying to reason with him.

Angus watched them from the sidelines, arguing back and forth while they glared intently at each other. "Uh, guys… Let's just change the subject-" He wanted to be the peacemaker, but neither of them would listen.

"You know what, Shawn? You want to live in this hell hole? Be my guest, but you can do it without my friendship." That was it. Shawn was never going to listen and he was only wasting his breath on him.

With that, Jackie kicked the discarded broom across the floor, its long handle bumping into one of the shelves with a loud crack. He stomped his way to the door and pushed it open, but he stopped for a moment to say one more thing.

"I do not care what you think, but Anti will never be my king, and if I ever find a way out of this shit, I'm taking it. With, or without you guys." With that said, he let the door swing shut behind him, leaving his brother and a very confused shopkeeper to finish the shift all on their own.

[kalebsocs]

Whenever I write jackies lines he sounds like a cheesy anime/video game protagonist help me how do I stop writing like this 😭

I've only written a fanfic about Jackie once in my life, and the way I did write him was that I wanted to write him in a more mellow and supportive light. He had a slight air of wisdom to this, but I understand damn well that that's certainly my headcanoned version. I mean...an anime or game protag way of writing JBM sounds accurate. I guess a way you could kinda cope with the cheesiness is to embrace it by letting Jackie be slightly aware of the fact that some of what he's saying sounds cliché.