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falseroar · 3 years

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Dog Days Part 16: Caught on Camera

((A chance encounter allows Abe to finally start making some connections--and with a personal dilemma on just how far he’s willing to go for anything that could lead him to the Colonel.

Link to Part 15: Going for a Walk and here’s one for the whole series.))

Abe slowly drove down the same stretch of road where he lost the doctor’s trail yesterday morning. It wasn’t the first time since he’d been back here, and he was starting to suspect it would be far from the last. He must have driven up and down every street within a mile of this spot last night and again just before dawn this morning. Now the sun was high in the sky, and people were going to be more likely to notice the same beat-up car circling around the neighborhood.

He didn’t even know what he was looking for. It wasn’t like the house was going to have a sign advertising a vampire lived there, and the doctor wasn’t going to be joining his neighbors in clearing the yard of leaves or cleaning out the gutters.

Did vampires do yardwork at night these days, or did they hire out for that kind of thing? Distracted by that line of thought, Abe drove right by one house just like any of the others, barely processing the sight of the young man standing in the driveway, his back to the street and a phone held to his ear.

Abe pulled to a stop at the stop sign and, out of reflex at this point, glanced in his rearview mirror. No cars behind him, no figures standing just slightly out of sight, no one at all around except for the young man who turned and began to pace up and down the length of his driveway, his agitated movements attracting the hunter’s attention long enough to realize he had seen that gray dad cap before. At the hospital, just a week ago, and again outside the clinic after that.

The young man let the hand holding his phone drop before he leaned, hard, against the car behind him. The same car Abe was willing to bet he’d seen outside of the doctor’s clinic a few times now, a car that he had only managed to catch glimpses of in the dark or under a downpour of rain. The color seemed different out in the daylight, but he didn’t need to compare the license plate to the picture he managed to get to know who he was looking at.

And then Chase Brody took off that cap to run a hand through his hair and over his eyes, and Abe knew exactly who he was looking at.

He couldn’t have been sitting there at the stop sign for more than five or ten seconds as the realization sunk in, but Abe snapped out of it with a jolt and started driving again, trying to keep the same even pace he had been going at before. Anything to not attract attention now, to not give away his presence.

Abe pulled to a stop a few minutes later, near the park. It was tempting to drive by the house again, to make sure of what he had seen, but he couldn’t risk being spotted or recognized. Not when he finally, finally thought he knew why someone was so interested in this doctor.

He returned to his office hours later, where he pulled out the few pictures he had bothered to print of the goings in and out of the clinic. He preferred traditional film to this new digital stuff, the processing meant it was better at catching things that a human or digital eye could miss, but he kind of had to use the newer camera if he wanted the doctor to actually show up in any of the photos.

Now though, Abe was grateful for the better quality as he compared the distant shot of Chase bringing the doctor his forgotten coat to the article from the library he had found and made a copy of (well, with the help of an extremely patient librarian). The article was from a few years ago and not quite what he was looking for, but the group shot proved his hunch wasn’t that far off. The fact that even the librarian was surprised at just how hard it was to find more than a passing reference online to the name he was looking for, and that the only solid connection he could get between that name and Chase Brody was through the City Records office (that time with the help of a bribe of a dozen doughnuts), well, that was just icing on the cake at this point.

Because take away the hat and subtract a couple more years, and the young man standing on the edge of a group shot of a bunch of suits and white coats was a perfect match for the Chase Brody Abe had managed to snap a picture of the other night. The article attached to the photo was about a then new project the Institution was starting, something about promising research into new protections for the city, blah blah blah, with no actual mention of the young man that the photo’s caption noted was one Charles Bronson.

Charles Bronson, the latest in the Bronson clan line, a promising hunter in his own right who was being groomed to take over running the Institute himself in time, going from the little bit Abe cared to hear back in the day. Judging by this article, he had started to get involved with the research side of things and was on his way to doing just that.

Well, until he suddenly and quietly disappeared off the radar almost two years ago. Abe knew he wasn’t exactly in the loop on the latest gossip in the hunter world, but it seemed like the Bronson kid changing his name and jumping into making videos online should have attracted at least a little attention. Even just a blurb in the seedier tabloids, but nothing.

Add in the fact that he was sharing a house with a vampire, and suddenly that bit Google kept saying made a whole lot more sense. A danger to someone of value connected to important people or whatever. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to hide the fact the Bronson kid was cut off from his family, either by his own choice or not, and Abe wondered just what the public image of his real or supposed attachment to a vampire doctor would do, especially if it came out said doctor was possibly not on the up and up. Or what would happen if the Bronsons thought one of their own could be in danger.

Abe stared at the two photos, one new, one old, and heaved a sigh.

Just what the hell was he supposed to do with this?

Abe picked up the photo he took and sat back in his chair. The tap of the photo’s edge hitting the desktop was loud in his otherwise silent office as he stared at nothing in particular.

Why the hell did Google not tell him about this? What did they possibly gain by not cluing him in to the possibility that there was a connection between the doctor and Brody? Why be vague about it if Google outright expected him to figure it out on his own?

Could be they weren’t sure themselves, and didn’t want to get the Bronson name involved if it turned out to be nothing. Kind of defeats the purpose of stopping a scandal if they accidentally create their own rumors in the process, after all.

Assuming they wanted to stop a scandal.

He still didn’t know who this Google was working for, but if he could trust Edgar’s word on it, then at least one of them belonged to the Institute. There was also the one still at the lab who made them in the first place—maybe someone there had a grudge about being bought out, and was looking for the proof they needed to drag the Bronson name into the press. Get some evidence of Chase living with a vampire, and it was only a matter of time before whatever led to him being cut off from his family would be dug up.

Wait, if they knew he might be involved, then did that mean Google could have given him Chase’s address at any time?

Abe threw the picture down on the desk with a growl of disgust.

He didn’t care either way about the Bronson family or what they had going on behind the scenes, but there was the doctor to think about. Abe still hadn’t found any proof that Dr. Schneeplestein was anything but a doc taking care of patients who couldn’t go anywhere else—as much as Dr. Iplier had gone on about the hospital’s program with the registered vampires, the fact was not everyone was as welcome there. Unregistered beings like Meri couldn’t risk going anywhere that would ask too many questions, which didn’t seem like something Schneeps was bothered about if his records were anything to go by.

Did Google’s client care about any of that? He’d asked Abe to look for anything suspicious, but did he really expect to find anything more suspicious than a vampire living under the same roof as a former hunter?

Of course, the doctor’s practices alone could put his status with the city at risk, if the wrong person got wind of it, of treating the wrong kind of patient without the Institute knowing…

The used silver bullet came to Abe’s mind and he glanced again at the picture he had tossed aside, only to freeze.

The picture had fallen at an angle, the light from his lamp casting a reflection that blocked out the clinic and the man standing in the doorway—and making it that much easier to notice the small splash of red, almost but not quite out of frame.

Abe picked the picture up and looked closer, then resorted to his magnifying glass to be sure. The lighting wasn’t good of course, but there was just enough to almost make out a shape in the darkness, where Abe knew there to be a space between two buildings. While Chase was distant but relatively clear, whatever was there in the darkness was blurred, like Abe had caught it in the middle of moving.

He grabbed his camera and found the original picture—it was the first he had taken in a series of quick snaps, all taken as fast as possible with the faint hope that one of them would be useful. This picture and the next three all had the same blurring to one side, before it disappeared completely. He hadn’t seen a thing that night, but someone else had been there.

Abe furiously went through every picture he took, searching for any other sign of something he had missed. He was so focused on the background that, when he hit the series of photos that he took last week just as the storm was starting, he almost missed it again.

There had been three people getting out of Chase’s car that night and dashing into the clinic: the doctor, Chase himself, and a third figure who, despite his head bent against the rain blurring the picture, was easy enough to identify with that distinctive bowler hat and mustache.

After the storm, he hadn’t been eager to look at any reminder of how he had to leave early that night, and then his focus had been on the doctor, and then on Chase because he kept coming back to the clinic. In Abe’s defense, he hadn’t seen Jameson Jackson again until, well, yesterday. When he walked right up to the guy and had a long conversation without once recognizing him or his connection to the other two.

Not one of Abe’s proudest moments, he’d admit that. Then again, it was getting harder and harder to find something at all to be proud of these days.

Once he was done kicking himself over that, Abe tried to focus on what he knew. The doctor was connected to Chase, a Bronson and former hunter who didn’t seem eager to be connected to that old life, considering his reaction when Abe almost recognized him at the hospital. And to Jackson, apparently, a street performer who put on puppet shows for kids.

Three men who didn’t seem like they would have much in common, but he already suspected that Chase and the doctor were living together. Jackson’s show had been within walking distance of that neighborhood, doable if you had someone else to help take everything back home. Maybe Chase was the friend he’d been expecting?

That might have been a guess, but Abe knew thanks to that tracking potion that the doctor was trying hard to keep someone from following him. A spell of some kind, one that left Abe following a false impression of the doctor while he took the same route home every day. He hadn’t tried to follow Chase enough times to get a feel for if the same thing was going on there, but he could make a guess there too. Not the kind of thing you’d need to worry about, unless you had a reason to think someone like Abe would have a reason to follow you.

Or someone like the person Abe caught sight of, that morning he was so close to finding the doctor’s house. Or the person Abe accidentally caught on camera, or spotted watching him when he was talking to Jackson yesterday.

Someone wearing red.

Google.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed Abe’s mind, like he had summoned the stupid magic robot here himself, there was a series of three knocks at the door, all equally spaced and with zero hint of character before that voice spoke on the other side.

“Abe Lincoln, are you there? Your presence is requested.”

Google knocked again, the same three lifeless knocks, but before he could repeat himself the hunter yanked open the door and grabbed the front of his red shirt.

“Get in here,” Abe snarled, pulling Google into his office and slamming him up against the wall.

“Good morning, hunter. Your permission to pass your wards is noted, but—”

Google stopped, his eyes going down to the end of the gun pressing into chest. “But I am suspecting you are not pleased to see me.”

“Give me one good reason not to put a bullet in you right now,” Abe said quietly, his finger on the trigger.

“I am uncertain how effective it would be, in ceasing my functions.”

“Would it hurt?”

“It would…not be recommended,” Google said slowly, seemingly aware that Abe’s smile did not mean the hunter was even close to happy. “Is there a reason you are threatening me, hunter?”

“I tend to do that, when I find out someone’s been following me. I don’t know what kind of game you and your ‘client’ are trying to pull here, but I’m done with this. I never want to see you or any of your other faces anywhere near my office again, do you understand?”

“I…” Google’s head jerked slightly to the right before straightening again, his frown deepening. “I do not understand. This unit has not received any order to interact with the hunter outside of this building.”

“Oh, really?” Abe asked. He backed away, keeping his gun trained on the magitek while his other hand reached behind him and found the photograph on his desk. “Care to explain what you were doing outside of the clinic then? Or why I saw you yesterday, watching me? I get a warning from some guy in a trench coat that I’m being followed, and wouldn’t you know it, you’re the first person I run into after that? Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

Google took the picture and stared at it, his face expressionless for several seconds before he looked at Abe and answered, “This unit is not in this picture.”

“Don’t even start,” Abe said, jamming his finger at the photograph. “There, your stupid red shirt, right there.”

“By my observations, other people have been known to wear red,” Google answered. “Most notably Santa Claus, although that does not seem likely in this instance. Further analysis is needed.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it is. But I’m not the one who’s going to be doing it. I quit.”

It felt good to say, and even more to wrench open the door and gesture for Google to leave.

Google did not move. “Am I to take this to mean that you are no longer interested in information regarding Wilford Warfstache?”

Abe’s hand on the doorknob tightened so hard he thought it might snap off. “I can find the Colonel without you or your client’s information, assuming you even have any. For all I know, you’ve been wasting my time on nothing but smoke and mirrors.”

“You would not even know the Colonel’s current alias if my client had not chosen to share that information,” Google pointed out. “In exchange for what you have provided today, I am allowed to share an address with you. Assuming that you are still interested, of course.”

Provided?

Abe looked from Google to the photo in his hand and closed his eyes. Right. The photo of Chase at the doctor’s clinic, front and center. Then again, it wasn’t like it was new information to them.

“What’s the address and why should I care?” he asked.

“It was an establishment that Warfstache was known to frequent, before it was closed down as a fire hazard,” Google answered. “It is up to you whether that is helpful or not. Just as it’s up to you whether any more information is worth continuing your investigation of the doctor.”

Google pulled a card out of his pocket, on which was written a street name and number, and handed it to the hunter. Like he’d been prepared to give it to him no matter what.

“The building is condemned, and no trespassing is allowed,” Google added. “In case you wish to plan accordingly.”

With that, he walked out of the open office door and began to make his way downstairs. Abe was tempted to throw some clever parting shot after him, something to show he didn’t care about him or his client, that he wasn’t going to be swayed that easily.

But instead, Abe shut the door and leaned against it, staring down at the address in his hand. He swallowed, hard, and tried to tell himself that he hadn’t shown or told Google anything he didn’t already know. That this address, this chance to get a little closer to the Colonel, was worth a single picture.

For some reason, he was having a hard time believing it.

On his way outside, Google transmitted what he had learned from that conversation, only to have his next destination routed as soon as he stepped out of the front door. He turned and began to walk toward the city park, only to pause and look back. His playback of the last second showed that while the space was empty now, someone had been standing across the street from the office building.

That warning Abe claimed to have received was interesting for more than one reason, then. Perhaps the hunter was correct to believe that he was being watched, if not who was actually doing the watching.

Google filed this information away for later and continued on his way. He had another urgent appointment to keep at the park.

((End of Part 16. Thank you for reading! Hope you all don’t mind the Bronson angle with Chase. He’s been part of the plan since I dropped a reference to the family in Is This You Card?, so I’m hoping it doesn’t feel too shoehorned in there.

Link to Part 17: Meeting in the Park.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox ))

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #abe the detective #chase brody #monster hunter au #googleplier #in abe's defense #he has zero point of reference when it comes to jackie #or marvin for that matter #even if they've indirectly crossed paths before

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viostormcaller · 4 years

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I was just reminded of a theory I had at 4 am RIGHT before going to sleep last night.

I think to help myself fall asleep, so those thoughts could be anything. 9 times out of 10 those thoughts are Ego-related. Last night I found myself recollecting some thoughts about Anti and stuff he's said and done in the past and how it might relate to now.

A few years ago now, Always Watching happened, and Anti had said (not an exact quote (I don't think) because shit memory) "Who do you think you've been watching all this time?" Anti was using Jack's body the WHOLE TIME since Say Goodbye. Just hibernating, lying in wait like some sort of... dormant parasite. And we had no idea until then, until that moment. Now that Jack has been out of commission for a three years (come August, anyway) now, the other Egos (mainly Chase but Jackie has referenced himself recently, which makes sense because Chase is homeless now) have stepped in to upkeep the channel.

Anti has mentioned that the other Egos are his "puppets." And yeah that's cool and all, but what are the implications of that? I wanted to touch on that because I feel like it's gonna become INSANELY important in the future.

Let's take a hand puppet, for example. Lifeless until you stuff your hand into it and give it life, make it move. An insanely fucked way of thinking of someone, if you think about it. To Anti, the Egos are only vessels waiting to be used. Now, on his own, Anti isn't stable. He's a glitch. He causes visible and audible disturbances in technology. When infecting a host, he slowly degrades them, mentally and physically (as we've seen, not only in KJSE but in every video with an Anti glitch between then and Say Goodbye) most likely until they've essentially died and become lifeless. All that's left then is for him to fill that empty space where the host's consciousness and soul used to be. I believe that's what he was trying to do to Jack before Schneep stopped him. I believe Schneep's interference is the ONLY reason why Jack is comatose and not dead right now. Schneep saved him just in time before he was whisked away. The coma had to have been medically induced, hence why Anti isn't using Jack's body right now. This is probably also why, after KJSE, Anti no longer has a neck scar.

But back to my point.

Because Anti didn't succeed fully in his plan, he can't just take Jack's body now. He missed that window of opportunity, which I imagine is insanely slim. And by now, I believe that Jack has degraded so far that not only can Anti not make any use of him, but he can't wake up, either. So now, he has to find another host. But who? Chase would be a prime example -- he's already mentally unstable, and by now probably physically unstable as well given how shitty he's been eating coupled with the constant drinking. However... Anti may be preying on Chase but he's not controlling him. We haven't seen any signs of Chase being under Anti's influence and the entirety of CHASE, from beginning to the very end, was a teller of that. All his reactions to everything going around him were... all him. Genuine. Human. So it's not him.

Then who? Well... I have a good guess.

Within the past year or so, a lot of videos with glitches in them have a... newer type of glitch appearing, and they appear rather frequently. These glitches, unlike the ones we've encountered in the past, are more akin to the glitches you'd see on older TV's, and a lot of the time we could hear noises akin to that of a VHS. These glitches are older in style. In this day and age, why are these glitches appearing? That type of technology is no longer in use!

I think it's because Anti has been puppeting JJ and using his body.

Well, doesn't Jameson have a mustache? And isn't Jameson mute? Both are valid points, but as we've seen in Jameson's Power Hour, Anti ripped Jameson's mustache clean off, and in JJJJ, when he signed "Help me", he didn't have his mustache then, either. And likewise, in his Power Hour, he mentioned that his voice didn't "work so good no more," meaning it once worked. And in a silent movie, there's no sound. Jameson can't cry out for help even if he wanted to, not with that technology.

In a recent glitch, whoever was speaking to us was seen in black and white, and the whole thing looked akin to a film reel. Those are two things that are most definitely associated with Jameson. I think, with the power of physical manipulation and his other general abilities, Anti has been using Jameson's body and that's who we've been seeing in videos recently. And these glitches seem to be appearing older and older, almost like we're going back in time. Who was recently seen studying time travel? Schneep. And what was said recently about teleportation? That it's basically time travel. And with a recent theory that was liked in the comments on YouTube, it appears that Anti might have been the one to teleport Chase to the car park, and for a nefarious reason, at that. Not for safety and not by Marvin as we originally suspected.

All this leads me to believe that Anti's using Jameson's powers of time manipulation to fuck everything up and to put the others in danger, including Jameson himself -- that teleportation sound could be faintly heard in JJJJ, as well.

This means that Jackie is the next one to be ported, UNLESS he can come across Henrik's notes and try to figure out a way to stop it, or at least subvert it.

#vio stormcaller #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #long post #ego theory

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angst-for-the-angst-queen · 4 years

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Getting Permission

Jacksepticeye Egos Fanfic

Originally posted on Wattpad on November 27th, 2019.

Summary: Seán McLoughlin has a very special video ready to be posted on Halloween of 2019. Now all he has to do is ask for Jameson Jackson’s permission to post it.

Warning(s): Angst.

Seán sat on his couch, scrolling through Tumblr while anxiously waiting for a sign that someone was at his front door. When he heard the doorbell ring through his home, he called upstairs to Evelien “I’ll get it!” before rushing to open it. After fumbling with the lock for a second, the door swung open to reveal a well dressed man. This man’s appearance would’ve been relatively ordinary if he didn’t look like he was Seán’s identical twin who just stepped out of the 1920s.

“Hey Jameson!” Seán greeted with a nervous smile. JJ replied with a huge grin and wave, followed by a hug.

Seán hesitated for a second before his smile became more genuine, hugging the dapper ego back. “That was a very enthusiastic greeting. Why’s that?”

Jameson pointed at his mouth, opening and closing it, before gesturing towards himself and Seán. “You’re happy because we’re getting to talk and hang out one on one?” Seán guessed. He had been getting better at understanding Jameson’s movements, but he still had trouble every so often. Jameson nodded happily in confirmation.

“I’ll do my best to find the time to hang out together more,” Seán promised. Jameson beamed before gesturing inside. “Oh, yeah! Come on in!”

Seán stepped out of the doorway and walked inside, Jameson trailing in after him. He sat down on his couch and motioned for his ego to do the same. “Do you want anything to drink?” Jameson shook his head and then tilted his head slightly to the side, waiting for his creator to begin speaking.

“So, I bet you’re wondering why I wanted to talk to you today,” Seán began. Jameson nodded.

“Well, as you know, Halloween is in a few days. Oh, happy early birthday, by the way!” Jameson gave Seán a broad smile before doing a little half bow of gratitude.

“Marvin’s throwing the party at his house, right?” Jameson hesitated, nodding his head slowly, as if he was unsure of the exact location. “Wherever it is, I’ll be sure to be there. Anyways, you know how I usually do a spooky ego related video for Halloween. There’s one video that’s very important to the plot that I think would make for a good video to post on the thirty-first. You would be the main character but...”

Seán was interrupted by Jameson, whose face lit up with happiness. “Hold on. Before you start celebrating, there’s a catch. A very big catch.” Jameson settled back down and waited patiently.

Seán hesitated. There was no way to sugar coat his next few words, so he decided to just rip the bandaid off. “The video would end with you as Anti’s puppet.”

He glanced at Jameson to see his reaction. To his credit, he looked thoughtful, his finger tapping on his chin. After a few seconds of that, his face lit up and he pantomimed writing on his hand.

“Oh, you need some paper! I’m sorry, I should have thought of that before.” Seán shot up from his couch and went into the next room, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen before returning to the living room. He handed it to his ego, who began scribbling his thoughts down. After he was done, JJ presented the paper to Seán.

You mean puppet as in temporary control, right? Like what happened to Schneeplestein at the end of “Kill Jacksepticeye” and me at the end of my first video? That’s alright with me, chap!

Seán winced. “No. I mean a legitimate puppet. With strings and everything.” He examined Jameson’s reaction. It was the most serious he had ever seen the dapper ego. JJ was usually very animated and was always either moving his hands or doing some sort of exaggerated facial expression. But now he was just sitting there, eyes vacant, lost in thought.

There was an uncomfortable silence permeating throughout the room. Jameson reached for the notepad and pen he left beside himself on the sofa, hesitated, and then reached out again. The sound of pen scratching on paper reverberated throughout the area and then Jameson presented his paper again.

Do you have to do this video, or is there something else that you could post for Halloween?

Seán sighed. “I probably could film some other video for the thirty-first, there’s other plot points I could use.” He began muttering, more to himself than to his guest. “But I’d have to rewrite large sections of the story, and I don’t know how doable that is...”

More scratching on paper.

Rewrite the story? How much would you have to change?

“A lot. Everyone knows about Anti’s obsession with puppets, that’s such a big part of who he is and how he achieves his goals. You becoming his puppet is a huge catalyst for so many different plot points, and I don’t know how I would get to them otherwise.

“I came up with the idea for this story long before I ever knew that the characters I created could come to life and be impacted by what I came up with. And now all of you are real, and it’s such a huge responsibility. It’s my job to keep all of my egos safe, which is really hard to do when the story that created you all in the first place is also going to hurt you!”

I’ll do it.

The words on the paper didn’t register for a little bit in Seán’s mind. “You’ll what?”

I’ll do it. The video. It’s fine with me.

Seán began shaking his head. “No, you can’t be fine with it, Jameson. I don’t know how it would impact you! It’s been proven that the new videos I put up impact the other egos in real time. Anti, Schneep, and Chase all have more prominent facial hair and brown hair now, much to Anti’s disappointment and disgust. Schneep’s become more tech savvy and Chase has somehow become even more depressed than he already was. But those are just minor changes. We’re talking about possibly turning you into a f***ing puppet!”

Jameson pouted and shook his finger at Seán, who sighed. “No swearing? Fine... You might turn into one of Anti’s hecking Minecrafts in real life!”

Then that’s just a risk I’ll have to take.

Seán stood up abruptly and began pacing around his living room. “You can’t take that risk! Your entire life could be ruined! Your free will could be gone in a split second! And even with all these risks, you still want me to go through with the video?!”

You started up this ego story for your community, to give them interesting characters to fall in love with and hints that they could theorize about. This means that I was created for the community, and I’m not going to get in the way of that. This is my purpose, what I was made to do.

Seán turned away from the paper. “But I can change the story! I can make it so you don’t actually need to suffer!”

Jameson’s eyes narrowed as he wrote furiously on his paper, his handwriting becoming sloppy. What’s so special about me? Isn’t Chase suffering right now because of you?

Seán stopped in his tracks. “That’s different...”

How is that different?! He didn’t choose to be depressed. He didn’t choose to have his wife take the kids. He didn’t choose to have that scar on his temple! That was all you! Why are you giving me a choice and not him?!

“Because it was too late!” Seán blurted out. “All of that happened in his first ever appearance. He didn’t get a choice because I was naive. I thought that it would be fine, that he would be fine. I was wrong, and by the time I realized my mistake, it was too late to save him. But it’s not too late to save you.”

Jameson let out a silent sigh. I still want you to post the video. You’ve been working on this story for years. You’ve known about my existence for two. If you couldn’t think of an alternate storyline in all that time, you never will.

It was quiet while Seán read over this latest paragraph. He opened his mouth to respond but Jameson shook his head, writing more.

I’ve seen it. The fanfiction. About us getting turned into puppets. Most of them are about me. Jameson’s hand trembled, causing the next few sentences to look a bit more messy than his usual neat handwriting permitted. It couldn’t possibly be that bad, could it? I mean, Anti isn’t as nice as some fanfictions portray him to be, but he also isn’t the devil incarnate he is in others. And if anything does go wrong, I still have you and all the other egos.

Seán began giving up on possibly convincing Jameson otherwise. “Jamie…”

Jameson held up his index finger, making the YouTuber pause. Nothing will change my mind. And if you don’t post the video, I’ll go make my own video and post it on the channel. It’s for the good of the community.

Seán sighed defeatedly. “Okay, fine. You win. I’ll post the video. But we need to put a few rules in place and let the other egos know, excluding Anti.” Jameson smiled, bouncing slightly on the couch, though his grin wasn’t as broad as normal.

“Do you want to watch the video? I’ve already filmed it and everything.” Jameson nodded and followed his creator upstairs to his recording office.

This is going to have a second part, so please let me know if you want to be tagged in it when it’s released!

#jameson jackson #jjjj #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #writersofjack #jacksepticeye fanfiction #angst #my writing

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asherranceoftheheart · 4 years

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First Meetings

Pairing/s: None, Platonic, General Character/s: Chase Brody, Antisepticeye, Mentions of other Septic Egos Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Jacksepticeye Warning/s: Mildly Implied Attempt of Suicide, Bullet wound, Soft!Anti Note/s: Sort of inspired by @beerecordings scenario where Chase and Anti ‘first’ meets each other. (AO3 Edition of the Fic)

The circumstance in which he and Chase first met each other after Chase came home from the hospital for the very first time after the day of his ‘birth’ truly shifted the dynamics of their relationship if Anti had to say anything about it. Anti was pretty sure that if they met in any other way, he would have treated Chase in the same way he treated the others.

Anti could still remember that moment playing out in his mind like some crystal clear film. The sound of Jack falling down with a muffled thump on the floor as a massive amount of energy was drained out of him in a matter of seconds as a result of Chase Brody’s creation, the scream for help from Marvin when the newest addition to the house appeared with a bleeding bullet wound on his head, Schneep’s controlled barked orders echoing through the house as he calmed everybody down, and Jackie’s rushed footsteps as he set about on assisting everyone into taking control of the situation… Anti had merely watched the entire situation on with an intrigued gleam in his eyes as the air of panic and adrenaline descended upon his housemates as they raced against time to save the newcomer.

It took Chase nearly an entire month of recovery before he was allowed to be discharged from the hospital under the careful eyes of Henrik. The others warned Anti to be on his best behavior and to avoid Chase if he doesn’t have anything good to say. They don’t want him to hamper his progress, they said. Anti scoffed at the way they seemed to treat the newbie like fragile glass that will shatter with the slightest harsh tone. Jack was the only one who didn’t treat him like a villain. Instead, he patted the demon on the shoulder with a silent knowing gleam in his eyes and murmured a quiet ‘be kind to him, please?’ before he went off to visit Chase again.

Anti huffed and rolled his eyes at Jack back then. Kind? Jack must have forgotten that Kindness never existed in his dictionary.

But as the day Chase was about to go home approached, the other guys became even more overbearing until he couldn’t take it anymore. He resolved to avoid the new guy like he was carrying the black plague with him when he came home. Anti would prefer not to gain a chronic headache that the nagging bastards would heap upon him as they fussed over the new baby of the house.

With that decision in mind, he skedaddled over to the Iplier’s Mansion to pester Dark and help Wilford and the other Iplier egos in their shenanigans to worsen Dark’s chronic migraine from herding his gang of bastards. He spent around an entire week playing with them before he got bored of pestering Dark and darted back into the Septic HQ before the goth-reject asshole took his head off.

It had been three in the morning when he sneaked back into the mansion and the moment he stepped inside the house, his nose twitched at the aromatic scent of warm freshly-baked cookies wafting from the kitchen.

‘Cookies…’ Anti hungrily thought as his eyes gleamed with greed.

Unknown to most of the egos, Anti has a very severe sweet tooth that caused him to engorge himself on whatever sweet thing he could get his hands on in the household or anywhere else. Jack was the only one who knew it (because the asshole knew him inside out just as well as Anti knew him even better than he does) and often bribed him for his good behavior with promises of sweets that he’d possessively hoard in his bedroom which was completely off-limits to everybody else.

He peered into the kitchen through the doorway and blinked at the sight of the newbie’s back. Anti raised an eyebrow, briefly wondering why the man’s awake at this godforsaken house before he shrugged to himself. It wasn’t that rare to find someone else awake at this time of the day since most of them would be up to something related to their own interests.

His eyes were drawn to the cooling plate of cookies on the counter and he practically drooled at the sight of the big chocolate chip cookies. He glanced back at the man whose shoulders were slumped as if he was carrying the weight of the entire universe by himself before snuffling forwards soundlessly to grab a bunch of cookies from the plate.

“You have to wait ten more minutes before you can eat them,” Anti did not jump when the silent man in the room suddenly addressed him without looking at him. “They’ll taste better with some milk.”

Finally, the man turned around and Anti couldn’t help but stare at the deep black bags under the man’s red-rimmed clear baby blue eyes, and the stained bandage wrapped around his head.

He refused to think about how similar it looked to the bandages that were wrapped around his own neck.

The newbie gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace when he saw him.

“Hello Anti, my name is Chase Brody. I’ve been hearing a lot of things about you since I woke up and I’m glad to finally meet the notorious man who’s been striking terror and frustration in everyone’s hearts,” Chase was tired and sad and looked like he was about to fall asleep any second now…

But the curiosity and glimmer of eagerness to meet him was so painfully sincere.

“Your head wound hasn’t closed yet.” Anti bluntly said, immediately hiding the awkwardness he felt when he realized that Chase truly wanted to meet him.

Literally what the fuck, Chase Brody.

Chase’s fragile smile wavered and his eyes dulled slightly at his blunt observation before he visibly pulled himself back together.

“Marv and Hen’s trying to find a solution to it,” Chase casually said before he looked down at the plate of cookies and tapped some of them to check their temperature. “Still a bit too hot…”

“They won’t find it,” Anti narrowed his eyes as he seemed to look beyond Chase and into the distance. “It’s not something a simple spell or some medicine could cure.”

Chase gave Anti’s bandaged neck a meaningful, understanding look before he pushed the plate towards the demon in a wordless peace offering.

“I still have a lot more baking,” Chase answered the wordless question Anti gestured towards him with a tilt of his head.

“You’re not gonna sleep?” Anti asked as he grabbed a cookie and shoved it into his mouth. He moaned in delight as the flavors started exploding like fireworks in his mouth while the choco chips melted into a heavenly chocolate goo on his tongue. “The fuck kind of drugs did you put in these?”

Chase snorted and breathed out a laugh at the mystified, delighted look on Anti’s face as he chewed on his cookie slowly, cherishing every bite on its own.

“No magic. Just some heapings of love and care,” Chase cheesily grinned at the look of utter disgust that shifted into Anti’s face from his words. “And no, I can’t sleep right now so instead of mulling over my misery for hours I went here to stress bake.”

A calculative gleam entered Anti’s eyes as he thought of the implications of more heavenly baked goods coming from Chase that seemed like they could satiate his sweet tooth. He glitched one of the kitchen chairs behind him and he hopped on to it.

“Well, Chasey,” Anti sighed with a feigned mournful droop to his body that yielded a look full of amusement from the other man, “As someone who doesn’t need sleep, I suppose I could grace you with my presence as long as you pay me with food.”

The younger man laughed and turned around to bend over and take out some of the trays full of cookies from the oven after he heard it ring when the timer ran out.

“Or you could just ask me nicely if I’d make you whatever you like as long as you play nice with me,” Chase placed the tray on the table and smacked Anti’s hand with his own when he saw the demon’s greedy hands attempt to steal a cookie from the tray. “I’ve already given you your stash you complete child.”

It was odd. Anti should feel infuriated and defiant that Chase was scolding him like a child with sticky fingers but one look at those teasing eyes eased the fire in his chest and he settled down on his seat with a childish pout on his lips.

“Jack told you about my sweets addiction didn’t he?” Anti narrowed his eyes as he made a mental note to toss the bastard off the window tomorrow or well… later.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking sweets as long as it’s in moderation,” Chase chuckled. “Although I did hear from Jack that you have a monstrous appetite…”

The kitchen room was filled with light banter and teasing between the two. Anti watched as the weary set on Chase’s shoulders seemed to ease up the longer they talked to each other and the longer he was kept from drowning himself in his own thoughts. Chase could see the demon relax his guard slightly as he treated him without any judgement or nagging about his own harsher than normal personality.

It was nice, Chase thought to himself, to have someone who doesn’t seem to act like he’s going to break any second now.

It was… peaceful, Anti grudgingly admitted to himself, and he actually liked the light camaraderie between the two of them.

A few hours later, time finds Henrik staring with a flabbergasted look at the unlikely duo napping together on the couch in the living room with an empty plate full of cookie crumbs on the table in front of them. Chase was curled up into a ball on his side, head lightly pressed against Anti’s thighs, while Anti was sleeping while sitting on the couch, legs propped up on the table, a drooling mouth gaping open in his sleep, and his arms sprawled on his sides with one hand buried into the floof of Chase’s hair.

Jack, after getting over his shock at the sight of Chase actually sleeping and Anti showing one of his vulnerable sides in public, took a picture of the sleeping duo on his phone for memories and dragged a still shocked Henrik away to let them sleep more with a brilliant smile on his lips.

#writersofjack #jacksepticeye #chase brody #antisepticeye #soft anti #soft!anti #bullet wound #tw implied attempt of suicide

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

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Encounters & Events

A JSE Fanfic

Usually I don’t write two parts of the same story so close together (since I have...so many stories I need to work on) but my muse for this has been going crazy. And people really seem to like this! So I decided to go ahead and, you know, write some of the more important events, including a huge reveal right at the end. This turned out a bit longer than usual, but it’s mostly dialogue, so it should go fast. Let’s check in on all the boys—and I do mean all the boys—shall we? :3c

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

“Luna, no, stop bothering your brother.” Marvin, carefully balancing a bowl in one hand, reached forward and tried scooting the small black cat away from the terrarium with the other. Said cat looked up at him with big yellow eyes. “Don’t give me that look. He’s probably trying to sleep. You’re annoying him. Go.”

After a few more careful nudges, the cat, Luna stood up and jumped off the table. She stalked to the open doorway, where she proceeded to flop down on her side and stare at him, not moving at all.

Marvin scowled at her. “I will step over you. You are tiny.” He turned back to the room at whole. It looked kind of bare, despite being back home for almost a week. He had yet to take all his knickknacks and posters out of the boxes and put them back up around the room. But the furniture—sofa, armchair, coffee table, table for the terrarium, and television—was all where he’d left them. The room hadn’t changed. The walls and furniture were still shades of blue, his gold stars still painted on the ceiling. And he could still eat his pasta while sitting on the sofa like he wanted to.

He set his bowl down on the coffee table and proceeded to flop down on the sofa before remembering he left his drink back in the kitchen. He sighed, and stood back up. And then the doorbell rang. Well. At least he was already standing up. He walked over to the front door, glanced through the peephole, and then opened it. “Hi JJ.”

Hello. JJ was standing on the doorstep, bouncing awkwardly. I hope I’m not bothering you.

“No, it’s fine, I was just about to have lunch.” Marvin shrugged. “You want to come inside?”

Please.

Marvin stepped aside to let JJ walk in. Before he entered, JJ bent over and picked up a gift bag he must have set down earlier. Once he was inside, JJ held the bag out for Marvin to take. Happy late birthday.

“Oh!” Marvin took the gift bag, looping his arm through the handles. “I thought you forgot.”

No, I’ve just been busy, JJ signed, looking sheepish. Sorry, I know I said I was going to help you unpack and such a few days ago.

“It’s fine. I mean, I don’t think I can ever say anything about people leaving now that I’ve gone and...you know.” Marvin laughed. It came out a little forced.

JJ glanced around the living room, noting the boxes still sitting around with stuff inside. Do you still need help?

“Yeah. How’d you tell?” Marvin kicked the nearest box. “How’s it feel to be the only one in the group with executive function that actually works?”

JJ chuckled. By the way, I think your cat is trying to steal your noodles.

“Wha...?” Marvin spun around. “Luna Void! Get away from there!” He quickly crossed the room, picking up the black cat just before her paw dipped into the bowl. “That’s human food, not cat food. And I just filled your bowl, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Luna meowed.

Marvin shook his head, glancing around the room. He noticed a big ball of white and brown fluff sitting on the armchair. “Here, play with Ragamuffin.” He set Luna on top of the fluff ball, which meowed and lifted its head, revealing itself to be a ragdoll cat, mostly off-white with a brown tail, face, and ears. “Shush, you love her, Muffin.” Ragamuffin meowed again as Luna flopped across him. Marvin looked back at JJ. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

I love them, JJ signed happily, eyes locked on the two cats.

Marvin laughed. “You can come by to see them any time. Your building still have the rules about pets?”

Yes, sadly. JJ sighed. Not even Mr. Purple Snake is allowed.

“Hey, Salazar isn’t purple, he’s lavender,” Marvin corrected. “Purple makes it sound like he’s the same shade as that thing from McDonald’s, while lavender is the actual name of the morph.”

And he has stripes.

“Exactly, he’s a striped lavender snake,” Marvin said, nodding.

Fits you perfectly, JJ commented. Anyway, are you going to open your present now or later?

“I can do it now,” Marvin said, grabbing the gift bag off his arm. He sat down on the sofa, searching through the tissue paper. JJ took a seat next to him. After pulling out all the paper, Marvin reached into the bag and pulled out a golden heart-shaped locket. His eyes widened. “No way.” He turned the locket over, noticing a small key, which he wound a few times. The chimes of a music box started playing. Marvin looked up at JJ. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I thought this was a collector’s item, how did you find one?”

Someone was selling it online, JJ explained. I know you really like the game, so I thought you’d like it. He looked hopeful. Well...do you?

“Fuck, of course I do.” Marvin lifted the locket to his ear, listening to the familiar melody. “Oh my god. Oh my god, JJ. Thank you so much.” Words weren’t enough to describe what he was feeling, so Marvin grabbed JJ’s hand and squeezed it tight, swinging it a little. He let go sooner than he would’ve liked to, so JJ could respond if he wanted.

I’m glad, JJ signed, beaming. I wanted to get you something that meant a lot, since it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.

“Yeah...yeah, it has, hasn’t it?” Marvin rewound the music box as it slowed down. He suddenly felt his eyes well with tears. He turned away from JJ, rubbing his eyes.

JJ picked up on it, of course. Are you okay? he asked, concern lining his face.

“Fine.” Marvin’s voice cracked on the single syllable. “I-It just...fine. I’m just...a lot of things have happened.”

Jameson scooted closer. Do you want to talk about it?

“No,” Marvin said, perhaps a little too fast. “I’m good.” He didn’t want to explain this to any of them. He wasn’t sure what they’d think of him if they knew. It might just be better if he kept silent about it. Part of him whispered that they’d want to know why he left eventually, but he...he didn’t think he was brave enough to listen to that part.

JJ looked at him oddly. You sure?

Well...there was a smaller thing that he thought was safe to talk about. “Well...” he said slowly. “You know, Schneep and I really liked this game.” He squeezed the locket under his hand. “It was kind of our thing. He joked that it was his birthday gift, since it, y’know, came out the same day. The two of us were the only ones who liked it for a long time, and we kept fucking badgering Jack to play it on the channel.” Marvin smiled. “No joke, we one time spent two hours straight just talking about it.” The smile faded. “I just...I miss him, I guess.”

Jameson didn’t say anything for some time. Then: I see, he signed. But he’s back now, isn’t he? You can go visit.

“Yeah, I know that, like intellectually,” Marvin explained. “But I-I don’t know, I guess I’m nervous. That something will go wrong. Y’know, Chase told me what happened at the last visit.”

JJ bit his lip. Well. That might’ve been because of me. I think that he just freaked out because...he thought I was someone else.

Was that what happened? Chase had said that JJ somehow caused Schneep to freak out, but he hadn’t mentioned it was because Schneep thought he was someone else. “Still,” Marvin said, and then fell silent.

You can go with Chase, if you want, for support, JJ suggested.

“Maybe,” Marvin said slowly. “Maybe I should just go today, just jump in impulsively.” He...he did really want to see him. “Maybe Chase can come too, he can drive me.”

I think Chase has something to do today, JJ said.

“Really? What?”

I don’t know. JJ shrugged.

“Maybe he’s filming or something,” Marvin wondered out loud. “Would you want to come, if I went to see Schneep today?”

Jameson immediately paled. I don’t think that’s a good idea, given how he reacted.

“He could’ve forgotten,” Marvin suggested.

In a few days?

“I don’t know, it’s possible. He used to complain a lot about how he didn’t have a strong sense of...time.”

Well, I’m still not sure it’s a good idea, JJ signed slowly. Besides, I have work this evening.

“Oh yeah,” Marvin recalled. “You still working for, uhhh what’s-his-face? Mr. Paddington, or something?”

JJ smiled. Mr. Patterson, he signed, spelling it out. And yes. Are you still working at the boutique?

Marvin’s face fell. “No.” He paused, then continued in sign. I got fired. About a month before I left.

Jameson’s mouth formed a small O shape. I’m sorry.

It’s fine, I hated retail anyway, Marvin signed dismissively.

For a moment more, they just sat there. I think your cats are fighting, JJ signed after a while.

Marvin looked over at the armchair and watched as Ragamuffin shoved Luna off the seat. “They’re fine, Muffin’s just grumpy.”

Ah. Jameson hesitated, then signed his next string of words super-fast, as if shoving out his idea before he started to regret it. You know, if you ever want to talk to someone, but not one of us, like, someone more serious about things that are...difficult, then I can give you my therapist’s number.

Marvin looked vaguely surprised. “Wait, you go to an actual talking therapist? Like for issues and stuff? I thought when you mentioned therapy it was, like, speech therapy.”

I tried speech therapy, it’s never worked, JJ said dryly. And at this point I don’t think it will. But I’m fine, not willing to try any sort of operation to fix the damage.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Wasn’t even thinking it,” Marvin assured him.

Some people do, JJ signed, a bit bitterly. But yes, an “actual” therapist. I suggested it to Chase, too.

“Oh, that’s good. He could use that.” Marvin fell silent. “I-I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t sure he would go through with it. He wasn’t sure how to explain to anyone about...all of this. Especially a therapist. He wasn’t sure he could trust them to not call the police.

JJ smiled. That’s enough. Now, are you ready to actually have me help you unpack?

“Oh shit I completely forgot about that,” Marvin said, sitting up straight.

Maybe I could come back after you’re done with lunch, JJ suggested.

“No, you’re here, let’s do it now.” Marvin hadn’t forgotten about the lunch, at least. Though he did realize his pasta was getting cold. He pulled the bowl towards him. “We can eat together first. I made too much spaghetti, there’s still some in the kitchen.”

Oh. Thank you.

“No problem. Let’s both go there, I don’t trust the cats to leave us alone anymore.” Marvin shot a look at the two cats, Ragamuffin sitting, satisfied, in the armchair while Luna zoomed around the floor.

Good idea. JJ stood up. He paused. I’m not sure if I’ve said this yet, but...it truly is good to see you again.

Marvin smiled; he hoped it wasn’t strained. He looped the locket’s chain around his neck, the gold heart settling against his blue shirt. Thanks, he signed. Good to be back.

——————

Chase had something to do. Something he’d been neglecting for...god, it must’ve been three months now. The thought made guilt curdle in his stomach. It’s been far too long. A lot had happened, but that wasn’t an excuse.

It was another hospital. Not like the one Schneep was in, more of what you would usually expect when you heard the word “hospital.” Still, the check-in procedure was basically the same. Though this one didn’t have a visitors’ room. You were allowed to see the patients in their rooms here.

Even though it had been a while, Chase still remembered what room number it was—309—and what section it was in—ICU. He pushed open the door, and saw nothing had changed in the months since he’d been there. He walked inside, taking a seat in the one chair in the room, next to the bed. He took a deep breath. “Hi, Jack.”

As usual, there was no response except for the beeping from the heart monitor. Jack looked pretty much exactly the same. Eyes closed, oxygen mask strapped to his face. Chase couldn’t remember what was actually wrong with him, just that the doctors said Jack would either come out of it in time, or not at all.

“I know it’s been a while. Things have been...kind of tough lately,” Chase said slowly. “Um, they found Schneep. I-I don’t know how you’d feel about that, given...you know...” He waved vaguely at the bed. “Him and this whole situation. I-I still don’t think he meant to. I think he might’ve just been a bit...confused. You know how he gets. Maybe he was off his meds that day. Anyway, he’s in Silver Hills now. You know that place. I think it’s good that he’s there, it could really help. Apparently they also think he killed some people? Which I was surprised to hear, I never would’ve thought...” Chase trailed off. “I-I don’t think it’s his fault, really.”

He paused there for a moment, eyes tracing the line on the heart monitor. Steady. That’s good.

“Also, Marvin’s back. I don’t know where he went, he said he went to live with his grandma for a while. Probably true, but I just know there’s something else. Anyway, I’m not gonna ask him too much if he doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t want him to...you know, shut down or anything.”

Another pause. Breathing was steady, too. It always was.

“And Stacy called me, too. I thought she was mad at me, or something, but, uh, turns out she’s not. Which is great. She just was having some work troubles and was kinda stressed, and I guess she was just too busy. But she’s doing okay, now. She quit working at the school, now she’s somewhere else, uh, I don’t remember the name but it apparently pays better. She does something with graphic design, which you know, she’s always wanted to. And Sophie and Nick are great, too. They’ve started this thing called reception this year, which I guess is like preschool for England. I dunno, I’m some dumb American. They sound like they’re doing okay. Everything’s...everything’s doing okay...”

Chase blinked back tears. Why was he crying? He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t...anything, really. He felt kind of...gray. But there was one thing he could feel that wasn’t just...gray. “I miss you,” he choked out. “I...I miss you a lot, Jack. I’m sure a lot of people miss you. I’m still trying to keep your community alive, but...well, I’m not you. It’s not the same thing, watching someone else run it.” He rubbed his eyes. “God, this is stupid. I’m stupid. I was just telling you how everything’s okay. And it should be. It should be. Everything’s getting better, just a little bit. Maybe that’s why the things that aren’t...they just seem worse. I miss you. I miss Jackie. I’m...I’m tired, Jack. I’m always tired, I-I can’t do this.” He didn’t know what ‘this’ was.

Someone knocked on the door to the room.

Chase sat up straight, furiously swiping away tear tracks. He stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it to see Marvin standing there.

“Oh. Hi, you are here,” he said. “I thought, ‘cause the door was closed...are you busy?”

“No, no, come in, it’s fine,” Chase hurried to say. He stepped aside. “Um, is that a new shirt? I didn’t think you liked to wear green.”

Marvin looked down at his T-shirt. “Yeah, it’s new. Not one of my favorites, but whatever.” He walked inside, stopping by the side of the bed. He looked down at Jack with an unreadable expression. “He looks so...small.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Chase said. Marvin hadn’t been one to visit often before he left. But he supposed his time away changed a lot of things.

Marvin nodded. “Yeah.” He looked up at Chase. “Were you...doing something, or...?”

“No, I-I was just—it’s fine,” Chase stuttered.

“Cause I...I kind of wanted to talk to him.”

“Yeah, of course, I-I’ll wait outside.” Chase hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath.

He really needed to get back into practice with these visits. Maybe then he wouldn’t start crying every time. But...well, maybe a different set of visits had taken up space in his mind.

Waiting outside the hospital room, Chase turned his thoughts to Schneep. He wondered how he was doing.

——————

The answer to Chase’s wondering was “not so good,” as proven by the interaction that took place across town, a little over two hours after Chase ended his visit.

Oliver hadn’t been prepared for anything like this in all his years working this job. He hadn’t been prepared for this entire case. The past few months had been a roller coaster that threw all his expectations out the window. He might’ve been inclined to reexamine those expectations, if he wasn’t too busy at the moment trying to keep peace in...well, in what was starting to look more like an argument than a therapy session.

Which was how most of these sessions were, now that Dr. Newson had taken over for Dr. Laurens. Oliver wasn’t sure what Newson had against Schneep, but there must’ve been something, because this was definitely not normal. In just a few days, Oliver had gone from standing in the corner of the room during these sessions, to standing right by Newson and Schneep in the center, looking back and forth between them so that he didn’t miss anything...potentially dangerous to either of them.

“You are asking too many questions!” Schneep growled. “Why should any of this matter to you?!”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell me how to do my job,” Newson retorted. “You’re not that kind of doctor. In fact, you might not even be that at all.”

Schneep bristled. “Excuse me? You insult me enough, do you have to bring something completely untrue into this?!”

“All I’m saying is that delusions are a common symptom of your condition,” Newson said with a sickly sweet smile. “Maybe you just thought you were—”

“Fick dich und deine Vorfahren! You do not come into here and dismiss years of my work and study like this!”

“I can come in here whenever I want! I’m in charge!”

Schneep burst into laughter. “And you are doing such a wonderful job of it! Do you have nothing better to do than yell at me for an hour?!” His head tilted to the side. His hand shot to his neck, fingers starting to claw at skin. Oliver reacted immediately, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand back. Schneep didn’t even notice. “Because that is really all you are doing!”

“Alright, fine.” Newson took a step back, straightening her jacket. “Let’s do something else, then. We can work on uncovering the inner motivation for you killing thirteen people.”

“I did not k—!”

“Yeah, I know, you think something made you do it,” Newson dismissed. “Well, the fingerprints on the murder weapons would tell a different story. Do you think you needed some sort of control? After all, things hadn’t been going so well in your personal life, with your job and your wife.”

“Shut up about Mina,” Schneep growled. “We were doing fine.”

“Hmm, yet I haven’t seen her in the visitors’ room yet. Or even heard from her.” Newson flashed a smile.

Oliver thought that was a bit too far. “Um, Dr. Newson, do you really think—”

“That is none of your business!” Schneep suddenly screamed.

“Of course it’s my business! How am I supposed to do my job without getting into your life?”

“That is not what you are doing! You are needling me for no reason! Why?! Is this fun for you?! I am tired of being fucked with by people and their sick games!” Schneep’s other hand darted forward, reaching for Newson. Oliver grabbed that one, too.

“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle—” Newson suddenly stopped, being interrupted by a beeping noise. She looked down, and grabbed the pager off her belt. She quickly read the message, and sighed. “We’re going to have to cut this short today.”

“Good,” Schneep snarled. “I was about to tear your tongue out.”

“Now, you don’t want to be doing things like that, or you could spend the night in the quiet room again,” Newson said, folding her arms.

Schneep suddenly paled. He pulled his hands out of Oliver’s grasp and backed up, into the bed. He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in it.

Oliver wasn’t sure why Schneep had such a strong reaction to the quiet room. Well, there was the stigma about having a room with padded walls, that was pretty much empty except for a bed. Oliver wasn’t about to pretend that popular culture hadn’t put its mark on that. But for some reason, even mentioning it made Schneep shut down entirely.

“Oliver, follow me,” Newson said. She turned on her heel, leaving the room. Oliver stood there for a moment more, then hurried to catch up.

“What is it, Dr. Newson?” he asked as they walked down the halls.

“What is what? The incident I’ve been paged about, or the reason why I asked you to come with me?”

“Um. Both, I guess.”

Dr. Newson sighed. “Lily just paged to tell me there’s some sort of commotion at the front desk. She’s new there, I guess she’s never had to deal with this before, so she appealed to the highest authority. Anyway, I wanted you to walk with me so we could talk about Henrik’s medication.”

“...alright,” Oliver said, confused. “Well, Dr. Laurens gave him a new one two weeks ago, since the other one apparently wasn’t effective.”

“I know that,” Newson nodded. “But it’s still not up to a full dosage.”

“Well...no,” Oliver admitted. “Laurens wanted to get him off the old one first, then get him used to this new one.”

“Well, I think he should be used to it by now,” Newson said dismissively. “We can up it to full. And we should give him a stronger tranquilizing agent, as well, I don’t think this one’s working too well.”

“...I see,” Oliver said slowly. He had to admit, he wasn’t an expert on this sort of stuff. It was why he was an orderly and not a doctor—well, that and the obvious lack of an actual doctorate. But he knew a bit about the medications, and... “Dr. Newson, aren’t there side effects for the current medication? Isn’t that why he has to get used to it in the first place? Are you—I don’t mean this the wrong way, but, are you sure he’s ready?”

“Of course I am.” Newson nodded once, firmly. Her eyes were burning. “I’m letting you know so you won’t think anything’s out of the ordinary when you pick it up tomorrow.”

“...alright.” Oliver didn’t want to say anything bad; he didn’t want to lose his job, and to be honest, Dr. Newson was a little intimidating. But he wasn’t sure her motives were entirely pure. Still, he kept silent. With Laurens gone, Schneep needed an ally.

“Here we are, the front desk,” Newson said, pushing open the door. Oliver hung back, watching the scene. Lily Travels, a relatively new doctor, was manning the desk, trying to calm down a clearly upset man, who...looked familiar. If it hadn’t been for the long wavy hair held back in a ponytail, Oliver could’ve sworn that he was—

“Hello, is there a problem here?” Newson asked pleasantly.

“I want to see someone,” the man said. “I looked up your hours on your website! But she keeps saying that he’s not available!” The man’s voice was loud and distressed. He kept touching the cup full of pens on top of the desk, playing with it.

“Sir, please put that down,” Dr. Travels said weakly, in the tone of someone who’s been asking the same thing for a while.

The man sharply withdrew his hand. And then immediately took five pens out of the cup and started chewing on the end of one of them. Dr. Travels sighed.

Newson looked the man up and down. Recognition flared in her eyes. “Sir, what’s your name?”

“Marvin. Marvin Maher, I wrote it on the clipboard,” the man said, still chewing on the pen.

“Mr. Maher, put down that pen, or you’ll have to pay for it.” Marvin immediately dropped the pen. “Who are you here to see?”

“His name’s Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

Newson nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “Well, Dr. Travels is right, he’s not available.”

“What?!” Marvin gasped. “Then—then why the fuck does your website say I can visit him now?!”

“Visiting hours for residents on the first floor are only on Fridays,” Newson said calmly.

Marvin paused, pulling at the collar of his blue shirt. “Well, why couldn’t you put that on the website?”

“It is on the website, Mr. Maher.”

“I didn’t see it,” Marvin grumbled. “Maybe your website layout fucking sucks. And how do you know where Schneep’s room is?”

“Well, I am his doctor,” Newson said pointedly.��“And even if I wasn’t, we have a database where that information could easily be found.”

“You’re his...?” Marvin paused. “Sorry, what’s your name, again?”

“My name is Dr. Newson.”

“Oh.” Marvin’s face scrunched in confusion. “But I thought Dr. Laurens—no, wait. I remember now, Chase said she...oh, that sucks.” He paused. “Newson? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Is that, like, a common name...?”

“I suppose not,” Newson mused. “But if that’ll be all you wanted...” She gestured towards the front door.

Marvin stared at her. “Um...‘if that’ll be all I wanted’ what?”

A flicker of annoyance temporarily broke Newson’s professional facade. “If that’ll be all, could you please exit now? Dr. Travels has more to do.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” Marvin turned around, took a few steps towards the entrance, then stopped and turned back. “So, are you, like, famous or something?”

The annoyance was replaced by surprise. “I don’t think so.”

“Not even locally?”

“Well, I suppose that depends. Why?”

“I think I read the name Newson somewhere,” Marvin muttered. “Something, like...it had something to do with Christmas, I think.”

For a brief, very brief moment, Newson’s face cracked in two, her expression falling to the ground, replaced by something of loss. She quickly recovered. “I wouldn’t know about that. Now if you’ll please.” She gestured towards the entrance again.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, I guess.” And with that, Marvin left.

Newson straightened her jacket again, and without another word, spun around and walked past Oliver, deeper into the building.

Something was up here, and Oliver had no idea what. He was sure Laurens would’ve known something, but she wasn’t here.

With a sigh, Oliver also backed deeper into the building. He had more to do today.

——————

Her head was pounding. It felt like her brain had solidified into rock, and was being thrown against her temples.

“Hello?”

She felt like a pile of noodles. Limp and weak. All her bones were gone.

“Hey lady. A-are you alive?”

Where was she? The thought passed through her head like it was swimming through fog. The last thing she could remember...the last thing she could remember...

“I mean, you’re breathing. But I...I don’t know how awake you are. Been there for a while.”

She was at her car and...and there was that man. She thought he was Chase, but...maybe he just looked like him...

Something hit the back of her head.

Laurens opened her eyes, immediately squeezing them shut again. God, her head was pounding. Not because of the thing that hit her, that felt small and light. What was it? She cracked open her eyes again, just enough to see that she was staring at a vaguely gray wall...plaster, but unpainted. She was lying on her side, the floor cold beneath her. She groaned.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Are you okay?”

That voice...it sounded kind of familiar. But from where? Laurens didn’t answer, just groaned again.

“I’m gonna take that as a no. Who are you? How did you get here?”

Laurens squeezed her eyes shut, tears starting to rise as a blinding pain shot through her temple. She moved her arm, but found something yanked her wrist back. So she raised her other one, waving it in the direction the voice was coming from.

“Oh.” The voice was whisper-shouting now. “Should I shut up?”

She gave the voice a thumbs-up.

“Alright. Sorry.”

Laurens wasn’t sure how long it took for the hammer to stop pounding an anvil into her head. It felt like a long time. If she was forced to guess, it was fifteen minutes until it was manageable and she could open her eyes. And it felt like another half an hour before she was able to roll over and face the room at large.

She immediately recognized it as a basement—an unfinished one, with rafters overhead, dangling lightbulbs, and pillars holding up the ceiling. There were random squares of carpet on the concrete floor, but none near where she was lying. There was a door in one wall, and a small, rectangular window high on the opposite wall, with no light coming through it. A short folding table was pressed against another wall, and nearby a boxy television sat on top of a wooden pallet crate. Overall, the room was about the size of an average living room.

“Are you okay now?”

Her eyes rolled towards the voice. There was a man sitting against a support pillar on the other side of the room and—and she immediately realized why his voice was familiar. Slightly higher, and a different accent, but she understood now. The man had shoulder-length brown hair, a beard, and wide blue eyes. He wore a dirty red hoodie. This whole group...they all looked and sounded alike, didn’t they?

“Should I stop talking again?” He asked.

Laurens blinked. “No, you’re good.” Her voice rasped.

“Okay. Alright.” The man visibly relaxed. “Are you, uh...I mean, you’re probably not doing okay, but how do you feel?”

She considered this. “My head hurts,” she finally said. It sounded inadequate.

“Hm. Yeah, I think it would.” The man pursed his lips. “You, uh. Don’t look good.”

“Thanks.” She pressed a hand to her temple. The other one was still caught on something. “Who’re you?”

“My name’s Jackie.”

“Jackie Donovan?”

His eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

Laurens tried to sit up. The pain in her head spiked, but she was able to prop her head on her hand. “My name’s Dr. Rya Laurens. I know your friend Schneep.”

“You do?!” Jackie sat up straight, but then hesitated. “Like, do you work with him? Have...you seen him recently?”

“Yes,” Laurens confirmed.

Jackie’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward. “How is he? Is he good? What happened?”

“I’m not sure ‘good’ is the right word for it,” Laurens mumbled. “You’re probably thinking right now that...that I work with Schneep at his hospital, the one where he was a surgeon. I don’t. I work at Silver Hills.”

“Oh.” Jackie leaned back again. He bit his lip, thinking. “That’s the, uh, psych ward, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s a mental hospital, it’s not the same thing,” Laurens said.

Jackie seemed to cringe. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“So, uh...” Jackie shifted where he was sitting. “H-how is he? Are they taking care of him?”

“I mean, I suppose so,” Laurens said. “I’m his therapist. I’m certainly trying to help, but I can’t speak for everyone. And I don’t know what’s happened since I...” She frowned. “What day is it?”

“Um...” Jackie glanced over at a nearby section of wall, one within arm’s length of where he was sitting. Laurens suddenly noticed the marks on the plaster, done in what looked like blue marker. Tally marks, divided into roughly eight groups. “I think it’s the twenty-first? Of August.”

Last she checked it was the fifteenth. “It...it’s been a week,” she realized. “I don’t remember any of it.”

Jackie nodded. “That happens sometimes. Let me guess, it’s all a blur? You sort of remember being, like, aware but not thinking anything?”

“...that...yeah.” Laurens shook her head, then immediately stopped; it was making her headache worse. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jackie laughed hysterically. “I mean, your guess is as good as mine! If it’s been a week, he probably wants you alive! Unless he just hasn’t gotten around to it yet! By the way, can I have my Sharpie back?”

Laurens was confused, until she looked around the nearby area and saw a blue Sharpie on the ground. She picked it up and threw it in Jackie’s direction. The throw went wide. By a lot.

“Fuck,” Jackie swore. “Hang on.” He reached out to the Sharpie, leaning forward, but wasn’t quite there. With another muffled curse, Jackie crawled towards it. And it was then when Laurens noticed the cuff around his ankle, connected to the nearby pillar by a very short length of chain. Realizing this, Laurens looked back at her other hand, the one that kept being yanked back. And no wonder. She was handcuffed to a pipe.

“Got it!” Jackie grabbed the Sharpie by his fingertips, retreating back to his spot by the pillar. “Sorry. I just don’t want to lose this.”

“It’s okay,” Laurens said softly. “I get it.”

Jackie pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie. “So...I know you said you haven’t seen Schneep for a while, but how was he the last time you saw him?”

Laurens thought about that. “He was getting better. He’d just gone through a bad episode, though, so not 100% good.”

“He recovering?”

“Yes, as far as I could tell. I got him new medication, but hopefully it would decrease his symptoms.”

“Symptoms?” Jackie frowned. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he has been unmedicated for some time. Best to take care of that, before dealing with everything else.”

Now Laurens frowned. “Wait, everything else?”

“Yeah? I stopped seeing him in—” Jackie glanced at the tally marks again, counting. “—May, and you’re a therapist, so. You know. Everything else.” He waited, but Laurens still looked confused. “Um...you know. Being kidnapped isn’t going to leave someone okay—”

“Wait, he was kidnapped?!” Laurens repeated.

“Yes! Why do you think—look around at this place!” Jackie gestured at the room. “Do you think either of us are here because we want to be?! The hell did you think happened to Schneep?”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say anything about it, but the police assumed he left of his own—”

“Wait wait wait,” Jackie held up a hand. “So...the police don’t know about him?”

“Of course they know about Schneep. How could they not, after all...” Laurens hesitated. “You know. The things that happened.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about Schneep.” Jackie insisted. “I was talking about...him.”

The way he emphasized the him...it reminded Laurens of the way Schneep would talk. “Do you mean...the thing Schneep’s been hallucinating about?”

Jackie looked shocked. “So. They don’t know, then? Wait, do they think Hen did it all by himself?!”

Laurens looked at Jackie, puzzled. “He...didn’t?”

Jackie buried his face in his hands. He didn’t say anything for a while. “Oh my god,” he finally said, words muffled. They sounded almost like a sob. “You don’t know. No one knows, do they?”

Laurens sat up. She was beginning to figure out that things were a lot more complicated than she thought. But maybe now she could get some answers for everything. “Know what. Who...who is this he?”

Jackie looked up at her. His eyes were red, like he was about to cry. Like he’d realized something. Maybe he realized that, if the police didn’t know what was going on, there wasn’t a good chance of either of them ever being found.

“He calls himself Anti.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye fanfiction #septic egos #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #pwtimeline

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isa-ghost · 4 years

Text

(Hiya, Isa! You don’t have to post this if you don’t want (hell you can just delete it right now if you want) but I was in the mood for submitting you some Jamie angst that I wrote while having a mental breakdown so…here you go!)

It was a frightening year for Marvin…his brothers got into a fight a few months ago and now they haven’t really been talking as of late, which occasionally happens. Jackie will run off to god knows where, Chase will stay in a hotel/motel until everything blows over, Schneep will stay overnight at the hospital with Jack, and Marvin will lock himself in his room but this was different…

It included Jamie.

They’ve had fights in the presence of Jamie, before…but Jamie put himself into the argument, which just seemed to escalate the situation for no reason…

After a few minutes of the argument slowly building, it finally reached its peak with Jackie and Jamie excluding the other brothers, who were actually trying to de-escalate the situation before one of them said/signed something that they couldn’t take back…

“My opinion does not even hold value does it?” Jamie’s face was red with anger while is signing became sharper, “You don’t trust me anyway!”

“Are we supposed to?!” Jackie snarled at the young ego, who’s tough guy look had deflated to a look of genuine sadness,

“Guys! Guys!” Marvin interjected, “How about we just go into our rooms to calm down for a little bit-“

“No! I want an answer from Jackson!” Jackie pushed Marvin back, so he could be directly in front of the, now slightly trembling, ego. “Do you expect us to trust you! You showed up wearing strings, and we can’t even be certain you ever really took them off!” His voice echoed throughout the house. The brother stared at their second oldest brother with shock. Yeah, at first the group wasn’t certain about Jamie’s loyalty, but after a year of panic attacks and unprecedented fear that the youngest ego seemed to show, it became clear that Jamie was not to be feared…but protected.

“Jackie. Shut the fuck up” Chase’s voice was stern and strong. This was not up for debate. Jackie made a noise of distaste before running out of the house. They all turned to Jamie with concern and guilt written in their eyes. They saw their youngest brother on the floor against the nearest wall, crying into his knees.

“Jamie…you must know zat Jackie didn’t mean anyzing zat he zaid, right? He vas out of turn-“ Schneep moves towards Jamie before Jamie ran past him and out the front door. The remaining brothers looked between each other with one question looming over them,

“Where would he go?”

A few weeks later, Jackie came back in a fit of tears. His outfit had tears and stains of dried blood all over it. He asked about Jamie as Schneep patched up his open wounds, but he got the cold shoulder from his siblings, which he couldn’t say was unexpected…so he left it alone.

Three months passed by, and the house stood filled with nervous energy as they awaited the return of their youngest brother. Marvin and Chase laid on the couch in silence as the TV played a movie neither of them wanted to watch…Schneep and Jackie were making lunch in the kitchen when all the power went out. The group stood in complete silence and without an inch of movement as the TV blared back to life. The screen stood in static as laughter started to fill the house, before the screen showed what looked to be a sock puppet theatre. The brothers watched as four plush dolls were placed on the ledge of the make-shift stage. Each doll looked like each one of the brothers: One was wearing Chase’s signature SnapBack, one was wearing Schneep’s scrubs, another was wearing Marvin’s cat mask, and the last one wore Jackie’s red & blue superhero suit. Quickly after the others were placed down, another doll was placed next to the Jackie doll, but this one was not stuffed. It was a marionette, painted and styled to look just like their resident chap, Jamie. The screen shook for a second before the marionette seemed to snap out of frame, then back into frame, but this time looking a bit more disturbed. The figure was dirtied, and cracked in some parts. The fabric clothes that laid on top of the wooden doll looked torn to shreds, but that wasn’t the worst part…around all of the appendages of the wooden marionette, wrapped a thin red string.

“I̵̟͐t̶̗̎͜’̴̦̀̐s̷̡̔͂ ̸̖͕̈t̸͇͍̓̋í̷͚̆m̸̦̑e̴̞͉̓̈ ̴̯̼̄t̶̟̿o̶̗͊̄ ̸̧̰̎c̶̛̘̘̀l̸̳̕o̵̦̯͋s̴͕͜͠͠e̸̙̼̎ ̷̳̽t̵̫͓̉h̷̢͐e̴̛͚͊ ̷̢͙̎ĉ̶̗̮u̴͔͗͜r̶͎͎̔͝t̴͓͎͑͌a̴̙͆i̶̻͛͊ǹ̸̯̄s̶̳̚,̵̳̹̂ ̷̞͠d̵̥͑õ̸̪̮̌ņ̶̠̃̿’̷̺̟̈ṫ̸̺̕ ̷̃̎ͅy̸̨͎̿o̸͖̭̍͑ȗ̴̩̊ ̸̺̐̒ẗ̷̹́̏h̸͓̕ͅi̸̡̦͠n̵͓̓̊k̵͖͗?̵̙̾” A crackling voice broke through the silence and caused the oldest egos heart to start racing. The curtains closed the doll inside before the entire box was seemingly pulled out of view to reveal Jamie. He was perfectly mirrored in the doll. This clothes were torn, and most were stained red. But most importantly, the red strings that held up his hands, arms, knees, and head all caused deep cuts across those areas.

“O-oh-oh m-m-m-my god!” Jackie yelled, just as the strings were pulled up, causing the limp man to be hoisted upwards with a pained look in his eye. The strings held him standing up as the tread along his wrist pulled his left hand a bit higher, before shaking slightly.

‘He’s waving at us…’ The brothers thought in unison, ‘No, Anti’s waving at us…’. The string on Jameson’s wrist went lack as he shakingly brought his hands up to sign,

“Why did you leave me?!” Jamie’s face poured out more tears as the signs quickly stopped with a pulling on the string around his neck.

“I̲͕̲ͅ ͎̜̳̬̫̠j̙̀u̹͉̘̭͠s̫̹̩t̤͠ ~l̙̮̬o̜̺̳ͅv͎̰̜̬̹͘e͈̥̙~͍̣̜̟͇̗͓ ̷̭̘̺h̨̳̙̯͓̤̩a̦̟͔͞v҉̼͓̥̙i̮͚̥͚͎ng̷̼̝̦̥͖ ̞̪͡m̬̖̭̳͙͕̬y̢ ̯̞̣p̲͈͓͈u̲̱̤̞͓p͉̖̭p̟̠̜̣̜͓͙e̻̘̰͇͖̬͈t̥ ̴͎̱̩̹͉̜b͍̠̫͈̗a̟c͖͘k͚ ͈͜ţ̮͇̣ͅo̱̣͟ ̡͈̜̱͕͓h͙̹͇͖̠͜i͇͚͔͘s̵̭̭ ̱̳͎̫r̬͕͚̙̥̙̠i̤͉͈̤̩͕͙g͕̝̬̭̜̣h̘t̵̲f̸͖ųl̞̟ ̥͈̙̟͕̱̕p̫͢l̢ạ͎̬̝̱̻͘c̸̬̯ͅe̘̻ͅ!̲̜͈̺”

Anti’s voice cut through the silent film being played in front of him,

“T̘̪͘h̪̗̼͉̙͚͔a͚̟͉͇̘ͅn͏̜ķ͚̼̳s͢ ̧̫̯̯a̗̰̬̥͙̙͝g̳a͕͉̖͍ͅi̷̙ͅn̢̗̹͙̺͓̩ ̙͉̼͞f͉̯͉̰̗̭o͉̙̭̫̞̜͍͜r ̼̳̝̪͈̲͉͢g҉̘̬̦̭̝͍i͔v͎̬͞ͅi̯̠n̴g̶ ̱̞̝̟̥̥͓h̭̙̻̣̺i̤̗̹̬͔̠m̰̜ ͉̩̖̣̲͈̘b͉͔͖̞̗̯̯a͝c͖͈̮̭̯͍̦͜k̨͙̩̱̼̦!͎̮̘̹ ̱̩̻͖H͢e̬͇̳͕̹͜’̟͈͓̼̠s̞ b͙a̙͚r̜͔̙̘͕̪͜e̳l͈̠ỳ͇̫̮̼̟͎̥ ̸̼̞͕̬͖u̬̲̱̝͙͝s̶͖̜̟e͎̼̳̙͙̞͇d̖̳̰̣͡, ̹͎̺̮t̗ò̯̜̖̞o͟!̫̬̬͚͙́”

The brothers chest’s tightened at the mention of Jamie being, ‘used’ but continued to watch Jamie’s limp body being pulled up and down to mimic a one-sided waltz.

“C҉̪͈̗͔͓̤̦a̶̞̫̙̼͕̥͈ń̲͇̩̜͖͚ ͞y̱̳̪̗̲̻͙o̷͇̦̯͈̟u҉̙̥̻͓ ͕t͇͇̙̗̰͖͘h͖a̟͙̫̟̲̮n̸̤̳̹͉̟̦ͅk̝̲ ͎͙̙͖̱ͅt̝̰̱̱h̰̜̣ȩ͍͓̝̻ ̨͖͓̺n̹ͅi̝̰̕c̼̹̭̣e̥̠̜̥̪͜ ̱p̡e͘o͇͡p̺̣̤͝l̞e̻̲͝,̡͔̼͖̫̰̖ ͏̺͓̜͍t̫̹̻̭͍̲͇o͕̺̙̞̲̯̬͘y̺͖̞̣?̺͚̮̜̻̼~”

Jamie’s bloody dance came to a stop and he bowed to the camera and signed a ‘thank you’ to his brothers.

“T͚͍h͖͉͟a̷͈͓͔̳̟̫̺ǹ̻̪͕͉k͍̺̠s͖̳̘̭͈̻ͅ ̸͔̜̹̦͎̫a̴̼̥g̤aͅi̗n̺̗̙̙̤̞!͏͍͍̹”

And with that, the screen cut off. The house started to roar to life again while the brothers cried between each other.

They had failed him.

———————

Ooooh spicy!

#spicy spice #submission

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huffle-dork · 6 months

Text

I had to draw the boys laughing together from my new swapboys chapter !! I never really imagined them being super close but now I love it so much 🥹

#swapboys #alt anti #Henny von schneeplestein #silent film Schneep #etwas peilen #septicart #huffleart #swapboys art

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ask-thesepticsinverted · 5 years

Note

If you could bring back something from the past what would it be? It can be anything, from a tangible object to a trend -:)

JBM: I want a SWORD.

M: Swords still exist—

JBM: I want swords and capes to be an everyday thing and fencing duels to be common and for us to go back to the best man at the wedding carrying around a big sword that would be so COOL!

S: If I could bring anything back, I would want to make it so the Alexandria Library did not burn, imagine all the knowledge we could have!

M: ...damn, Schneep, that’s a good one. Can I second that? Also, bring back the idea of balls, those always seemed interesting.

JJ: {Call me nostalgic, but I’d love to have silent films back. There was a skill and art to them that not many people understand or appreciate.}

#boys answer asks #ask blog #jacksepticeye #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #septics inverted au #invertedau #i!jackie #i!schneep #i!marvin #i!jameson #:) anon

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lildevyl · 5 years

Text

This Day Aria

Summary: It's suppose to be the most happiest day of JJ's life, but now! Now, some imposter trapped him and is posing as him! He needs to get the wedding in time if he's to save the love of his life, Blossom!

A/N: In this story, JJ can talk. He was one of those successful transitioning actors, who was able to go from Silent Film movies to sound movies.

==========================================================

(Groom Dressing Room)

Oh, everything was going to plan! That silly little Septic Ego thought that he could thwart his plans? Ha! Everyone, knew that he didn't get along well, with poor little Jameson. Now, that he took care of that pathetic, second-rated, wanna be magician, Marvin. He could now, take Jameson's place and truly be a canon Ego! Ha, did Sean truly think that he wouldn't be an Ego? Well, thanks to those "puppets" as his friend calls them, in the Community. He now, has enough, strength to truly take form and keep it! Now, all he has to do was have his "darling Blossom" be all his!

Going over the dresser, Evil JJ picks up a rose and pins it to his tuxedo jacket.

Evil JJ: This day is going to be perfect The kind of day of which I've dreamed since I was born Everyone will gather round, looking very astound What they don't know is that I have fooled them all

(Abandon Mind):

The real JJ and Marvin were looking all over the place to try and find a way out. Unfortunately, all the different crystals in the abandon mind were making it hard for Marvin to use his magic to teleport them out.

JJ: This day was going to be perfect The kind of day of which I've dreamed since I was born But instead of having cake with all my friends and family to celebrate My wedding bells they may not ring for me at all

(Groom's Dressing Room):

Evil JJ: I care not a thing about the ring I won't partake in any cake

He went over to the table full of framed photos and photo albums and picked the one of Blossom in a beautiful vintage style dress and hair style.

Vows well I'll be lying when I say That through any kind of weather I'll want us to be together The truth is I don't care for her at all

Evil JJ just tossed the photo of Blossom over his shoulder, smirking coldly when heard it crash.

No I do not love the bride For my heart is dead inside But I still want her to be all mine

(Abandon Mine):

JJ: We must escape before it's too late Find a way to save the day I hope I'll be lying if I say

JJ and Marvin fruitlessly searched for a way out of the Abandon Mines. Hitting one dead end after another.

JJ: I fear that I may lose her to one who wants to use her Not care for love and cherish her each day

Luck was finally on their side after a relentless search of the Abandon Mind. They found some train tracks and a cart that they could use to get out of here and save Blossom.

JJ: For I oh so love the bride Oh in my heart she does reside

JJ with all of his strength he could muster, tried to push the cart down the tracks but no avail. He slumped to knees in defeat. Marvin seeing the fire still burning JJ, used his magic to levitate JJ in the cart and then saw what was holding the cart in place. He quickly used his magic to get them out of the way. He pushed the cart and hopped in. The cart quickly picked up speed.

JJ: Oh Blossom, I'll be there very soon

(Septic City Church):

Everyone gathered around at the church waiting for the groom to make his appearance. Flower girls threw some petals on the isle as Evil JJ made his way to the alter. He was smiling an ear to ear smile upon seeing Blossom with a glassy eye stare in her eyes make her way down the isle.

Evil JJ: Finally the moment has arrived For me to take on lucky bride

(Abandon Mind):

The cart sped full speed down the tracks but the tracks ended at a dead end. Marvin grabbed a hold of JJ and told him to hang on. The cart crashed sending the boys flying and with his magic, Marvin flew them over to safety to the opening of the mind. The wedding bells were ringing! Sprinting with all of their might they had to save Blossom!

JJ: Oh the wedding we won't make She'll end up marrying a fake And Blossom will be

(Septic City Church):

Evil JJ and Blossom were standing next to each other waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Evil JJ: Mine! All mine! Muhahahahahahahah

====================================================

Well, I wrote something for the JJ Appreciation Week! I blame @egopocalypse for the semi angst. I was going to write a nice fluffy fanfic but my Muse went, Nope! We’re writing some angst! Hope you fiends enjoyed it though. It’s been a while since I wrote a musical fanfic!

Tagging: @septic-dr-schneep, @egopocalypse, @huffletrax, @littlepinkchan, @a-humble-narcissus, @run-stray-wolf, @fear-is-nameless, @burnbrightfadefast, @starlightstarfight, @epicfangirl01, @dolphintreasureart, @d-structive, @dezzydynamite, @thevampireauthoress, @the-scribe-watches, @therealjacksepticeye, @starlightxnightmare, @isa-ghost, @weirdmixofweirdness, @nightfuryobsessed, @spicydanhowell, @jackjames-exe, @thefirsttobreak, @julywinters, @kisstheashes, @chaoticcrimsonrose, @miishae-archived

#jacksepticeye #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #daper jack #jj appreciation week #jameson jackson appreciation week #jse ego appreciation week #jse egos #jse writing community #jse community #writersofjack #musical fanfiction #musical fanfic #jse musical fanfic #angst #well at least i tried #at least got something out for jj #during his appreciation week #happy writing!

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pixelpixie-pix · 5 years

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JJ had bought it on impulse. He excitedly took the box from the shopping bag and opened it up, all the pieces of the model falling onto the table. JJ smiled wide and began to sort them out. On the box was a fighter jet. He carefully placed each piece in line, And started to glue them together. He had lost himself in the model, not noticing his brother, Henrick step in the door. JJ had the same smile on his face as he clipped the model together, each piece carefully placed. Schneep stood nearby, as to not disturb him. He watched his brother work, Marveled at the craftsmanship. Schneep carefully sat next to Jj and held up a wing tot he little plane with a soft smile. JJ smiled back and hugged his brother. He had always felt that Schneep was distant toward him. They finished the model together, as brothers. The night ended with JJ falling asleep during a silent film his head resting on Schneep’s shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

for @kairomancerr

@nepeta-cata @septicplier @sohowdoilifeandstuff @burningbirb @saltyweirdbi @mad-men-inc @obsidiancreates @victory-cookies @alice--price @petunia9402

#cute #jameson jackson #schneep #brothers #jacksepticeye #model planes #egos #jacksepticegos

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viostormcaller · 5 years

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Ego Headcanons: Jameson Jackson

Jameson is the reason why I wanted to do these, believe it or not! I was thinking about my headcanons for him, first, and then started thinking about the others. So, naturally I'm doing his first. Once every SepticEgo's headcanon posts are done, I'll clear out my inbox and I'll open prompts. Without further ado, here's Jameson!

Jameson isn't from our time. He's from the past -- the 1920s, to be exact! He was filming a Halloween special with his camera crew when something went horribly wrong, tapping into his time magic by accident. Despite his confusion, however, he continued. "The show must go on!", as they say.

Jameson has the power of time travel, as he discovered. His power is uncontrolled, and there's a lot of limitations as to what he can do with it, but he's trying to learn. He can stop time, as well, but again, he can't control that either. The one power he can control is the ability to summon small objects at will, but he doesn't do this often.

Jameson is quite the expressive fellow, and this is turned up to 11 when he's in front of a camera. But, he's a silent film actor, so he has to be expressive. Of course, that carried over into his day-to-day life

Jameson can talk! He may be silent on camera, but he does have a completely operable voice box. He has a British accent and has a very proper way of speaking.

He carries himself with elegance. He always dresses decently, and he's rarely seen without his bowler hat, no matter what he's wearing (unless it's pajamas, of course!)

Jameson is very intelligent, don't be fooled, but modern technology is not his strong suit. It's much more confusing and complicated than he's used to! Despite that, he's a quick learner and has a sharp mind. He's getting there.

Normally, Jameson is early to bed and early to rise, but he can easily stay up late if need be; after all, being in the film industry, it's necessary sometimes.

Jameson is very physically fit, considering he did all of his own stunts on set. He makes sure to eat healthy and eat at least three times a day, no matter how small the meal. Not that he eats that much, anyway

He's very close with Chase, who took him in as his son (yes, huge inspiration from @septic-dr-schneep here because I adore their dynamic. It's like my favorite thing). He's also close with Marvin, seeing as they both can do magic and they study together, and Schneep because he's absolutely fascinated with his work. He's not as close with Jackie (because he's busy a lot of the time), but isn't any less fascinated by what Jackie does. His admiration for him is more from afar.

Jameson is straight, and he's Demisexual! He hasn't been in many relationships, but he doesn't feel any sort of attraction towards someone unless they've bonded really closely.

Jameson loves Jazz, Ragtime, and Classical music. He can play a bit of piano, actually, as he took lessons when he was younger. He hasn't done it in years, but the muscle memory is there

He has a strange affinity for mixing drinks. The others have suggested he become a bartender, but he said the bar scene is too boisterous for him

He adores animation. He's amazed by just how much it's improved since his time, and happy to see the classics are still alive and kicking. Both him and Chase share their love for Disney by watching movies together often

Unless he's wearing pj's, he always has his pocket watch on him. Granted, he was given a smartphone, but the watch is easier for him to use to check the time. More importantly, though, the item is enchanted with magic, so naturally he has an attachment to it. The others understand, though they still encourage him to get used to using his phone (he can do basic things like text, but that's pretty much it. The others are always reminding him to put his phone into sleep mode so the battery doesn't drain)

Jameson has a scar on his finger from when he nicked it. Normally that type of wound would heal over completely, but it remained a scar due to Anti's influence. Jameson believes it may have been him who coaxed his magic out to send him so far into the future and mess up his timeline. He gets phantom pains sometimes where the scar will sting or burn as if the wound has been reopened. He often has night terrors about being possessed, which can often lead to panic attacks.

Seeing the community label him as evil or a puppet is extremely disheartening, and it saddens him. He's usually the brightest ball of sunshine with the largest smile, and as someone who tries his hardest to be a good person and do right by the world, to have all his efforts diminished to that makes him really depressed. But if questioned, he'll brush off any claims that he's feeling down and say he's fine. Besides, after seeing what Chase goes through, he doesn't believe he has any sort of depression

He usually hides his problems to avoid being a bother, though a lot of the time trying to deal with it himself makes it worse. Nine times out of ten, though, Chase sees through the ruse, considering he does the same exact thing

If he's in need of a distraction, Jameson will carve soap. It relaxes him, and he doesnt have to worry about being injured with the knife because it isn't that sharp. He knits a little bit, too, but isn't super at it just yet. He also writes often. If he doesn't have the energy for anything else, he'll read and drink a cup of tea.

Jameson doesn't swear... much. He believes it to be improper, but after living with the others, he's let the rare curse slip every now and again (usually followed by a hand over his mouth and a panicked apology, which the others find adorable). If he's really miffed, though, he's known to swear in 1920s lingo, and that he won't apologize for, because at that point he means it.

Jameson is, all at the same time, the oldest, the youngest, and the same age as the others. Though, he's babied often, to his slight dismay. He's from the past, making him the oldest, he's the youngest in terms of creation, and in terms of his real age, he's the same age as Jack and the others. Even though he carries himself with sophistication, he's a kid at heart, which doesn't help him being babied.

He admires Jack. He's only seen him comatose, but he can't wait to meet him, whenever that will be... he can only hope that will be soon. In the meantime, he uses his magic along with Marvin to try to get through to Jack. At least twice a week they try, any more and they'll burn themselves out and be weakened. Hopefully one day, though, the magic will work. Their efforts keep the hope alive that Jack will wake up someday.

And that's Jameson's done!! I know it was long (the others will probably be just as long), but this was a lot of fun to make!! Can't wait to do the rest!

#jacksepticeye #jameson jackson #septicego headcanon #septicego hc #vio stormcaller #long post

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

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JSE Commission - A Claim Of Belonging

Summary: Commission for @jacksinsanity. Anti lures Jameson to an unusual meeting place, though not for the reasons the gentleman may expect.

A/N: Warning for violence.

Although Jameson had been introduced to vast amounts of knowledge about the world every single day for the past year, he still couldn’t help but retain the same awe and wonder at all of these new contraptions that made modern life so easy. The coffee pot was no exception. Jameson still vividly remembered the day Schneep had showed him all of its unique parts and their functions.

“Is a very simple little process, Jamie, one I do every day! You let the good doctor show you,” he urged, his voice reflecting so much warmth and eagerness to teach as he gestured for Jameson to lean down beside him. “The first electrical drip brewer was created by one of my proud people, Gottlob Widmann, in 1954! They replaced those bitter old coffee percolators in the 70’s!”

To Jameson, those bitter old percolators had been a staple, but he couldn’t help but smile at the doctor’s enthusiasm—and frankly it was astonishing at how quickly the coffee spilled into the mug once he pressed the button. The warm brew he was sipping now tasted positively delightful, even if he would have preferred tea, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he realized there was foam lingering in his mustache. It was too bad that he had no one to share the laugh with, though; all of the others were gone for the day. Jameson expected Schneep would be sneaking home for lunch, despite hospital policies. Maybe they could share a cup then.

Once the steaming mug was only half full, he set it aside, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on his knees as he considered what he could do to entertain himself. The television was dark and silent before him, but the last time he had tried to use it on his own, he had set all of the channels to French. He had already tended the garden this morning and he’d read his favorite book at least three times over by now.

Perhaps he should put more time into learning how to use his phone. Chase had tried to introduce him to so many new thingamajigs all at once (“A wristwatch? By golly, I’ve got a pocket watch that serves just fine!” “Why on earth would I need a contraption to track my number of steps? I should hope I can count ’em myself!” “I know precisely when I need to wake in the morning, Da, I don’t need any ol’ radio clock screaming at me; that’s not a device to be fond of!”) until at long last the overwhelmed gentleman had insisted that he pick just one. Chase had opted for what he called a “smart phone”.

I don’t see why the intelligence of the mechanism matters; I’m the intelligence making use of all its bells and whistles! That said, he’d become a bit more accustomed to all of the clicking and swiping, and it was nice to be able to keep in contact with the others through text. To that end, he sent a brief “Miss you!” message to Chase. Less than a minute later he was a little taken aback by a ping and a vibration in response. Chase rarely ever responded that quickly!

As soon as he reopened it, he saw that his hunch was correct. It wasn’t Chase who had texted; it was a number he didn’t recognize. Since when were telephone numbers so long? It trailed off the screen: 010011010110000101110011011101000110010101110010…Brows furrowing, he took one more sip of his coffee before opening it.

?: Jem! Are you free to come to the northeast district? Warehouse 31. There’s something all of us want you to be a part of!

The northeast was a rather unseemly side of town. Why on earth would they want him there after warning him against it so many times? His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but the longer he stared at the message the more uncertain he became. He couldn’t think of any reason why—A sudden prickle of pain down the nape of his neck made his ears pop and he startled, pressing a hand to the source with a wince.

Chase wants to film a haunted video in one of the northeast warehouses this year. He’s been excited about making it for months. Of course you remember that.

“Oh! Confound it all, how could I have forgotten Chase’s video? He’s only spoken of it for months now!” he scolded himself, shaking his head and typing hurriedly back.

JJ: Indeed! I’ll order an Uber and be there soon!

?: :)

The thirty-first warehouse was in a ghastly state, Jameson mused, tsking in disbelief as he peered through the Uber window up at the large structure. Rust and decay riddled its surface; who knew what it must look like inside? Even the driver seemed skeptical, but he was more than willing to accept Jameson’s money for it.

“Be careful out there,” he cautioned as goodbye. Jameson merely tipped his hat as he drove away. Chase and the crew would probably be setting up their equipment inside; his mind was wrapped up in what part the older Ego might ask him to play in it.

On impulse he brought himself to knock on the large doors, coughing and waving in annoyance at the cloud of rust that was blown off by the motion. Oddly, it didn’t look like they had been opened in some time! It took a bit of force from his shoulder to widen them enough that he could slip inside. Intimidated by the length of the shadows within, however, he slowed, resisting the urge to wring his hands in his nervousness.

“Da?” he called out gingerly. “If you attempt to spook me now, I’m going to be very cross!”

“On̵ t͞h͘e ͞contra̧ry, b͝o͟y͝… I҉ d͢o̢n’t̶ n̛e̢ęd ̧t͢o̵ try,” a gleeful, chillingly familiar voice echoed somewhere before him.

The moment of paralyzed, terrified realization was a moment too long. Gasping, Jameson lunged back toward the doors—safety, freedom, help—but the Glitch was there behind him, seizing him by the throat with a vice grip that tore right through his collar and flinging him deeper into the darkness. He landed hard, somersaulting to a stop in a cloud of dust that made him choke and wheeze as all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

“I’m so ̡gl͡a͠d ͠y̧o͟u c̡am̵e̛ wheń ̢I͢ ̡c͢a̶llèd you, pup͞pet͟. I͡t͠ ̶wo͟u͝ld h̢àve been i͞nc̡o͟nven͘ie͢nt if I ͞ha̛d needed ͝t͟o͏ come for y͡óu mys̶el͝f…A m͝ast͡ęr ͠s͠h͟ould ̡n͡ev͢er be f͠or͘c͜ed̡ to f̀et́ch thȩi͞r pet.”

Mouth dry, heart galloping dizzily in his chest, Jameson struggled to scramble back on his elbows and then onto his trembling legs, keeping the Glitch in his field of vision. “I’m no one’s pet!” he gasped. “Certainly not one of yours, you madcap! W-Why’ve you brought me here?!”

Head twisting grotesquely, Anti beamed, spreading his arms out in a mockingly inviting gesture. “T̷o͟ ͘c͞e͝l̢eb̶r͘a̵te.͟ Your͠ birt̢hda̧y͟ is͠ ͘approaching,͜ ̛li͡t̢t̷l̛é ́o͟n͜e…th͜e àn͝ńìver҉sary of͡ the͝ ̵day̨ I͞ c̷a̧me ̨t͠o͝ ow̴n ͞you̵.”

Shaking his head violently, Jameson blinked in fearful disbelief. It was a mistake; as soon as he looked again, mouth open to deny it, Anti was out of sight, and without warning a pair of large, invasive hands clamped onto his shoulders from behind. He barely had a chance to register them before he was being hauled off his feet and thrown back first into one of the roof’s massive support pillars. Something in his abdomen fractured on impact, drawing a soundless scream of agony as he landed and curled into himself.

Anti cackled at the sight, his form spitting and buzzing like a cloud of enraged bees as he lunged on top of him, seizing twin handfuls of the younger Ego’s vest and shirt and ripping them away in a few effortless tugs. Yelping in alarm at the violation, JJ tried fruitlessly to struggle, but a resounding fist to his face sent stars through his vision and ended most of his struggle.

The next thing he knew, Anti was dragging him across the coarse, icy floor, the rust and seams in the floor panels scraping painfully at his bare back and waist. Spitting blood from his split lip, he thrashed sideways as much as he was able and then lifted aching arms to scratch at the hand fisted into his hair. The Glitch seemed unaffected.

“Stop! Agh! Antisepticeye, s-stop!”

“No̵t̴ ̧u͠nt͠i͢l͜ ̶yo͠u’vę be̸en͡ gi͟ven ̴y͢ou͞r͜ ̡gift!” With one more wrench to his puppet’s mane that set his scalp on fire, Anti tossed him forward. Jameson braced himself for a third thunderous landing, but as he tumbled head over heels he was shocked to discover that there was a soft heap of unknown padding underneath him. Straining to sit up, he wrapped his arms around his throbbing stomach and wheezed, the harsh breath disturbing the strange pile of feathers. He didn’t have a chance to ask what they were for. Anti glitched once more, violently and abruptly, and then he was lifting a steaming industrial bucket over his head.

“Y̡our gif̴t, J͝a͡mes͠o̢n Jac҉k̀son̡—We’re ͢goín͟g͡ to̡ ta̷ke ̷p̡ar̶t̴ in a good o͜ld-fashiơn͢ed҉ ͝tr͝a͡di̢ti̧oņ. It’s o͡nę ̕I'm ́s̡ure yo҉u’ll bȩ f͟a͝mil̶iar ͜w̛it͞h͜,” he hissed, heaving the bucket and its contents down with a resounding splash. Jameson screamed as the hot tar made contact, scalding every inch of him as it poured down in waves. Thrashing and flailing, aura storming wildly with the agony no one could hear, he blindly tried to dive somewhere, away, but Anti’s voice and his fists and his heavy boots bombarded him.

“Yo҉u’r̢e͠ w̡͜o̴r̵̡͟thl҉͜ess̛! Y̛͡o͠͞u’r̡̛̛e̴ ̧̛͝n̢̕ot̵͜hi̴̢n̵͠ģ̛! My̕͢͢ ̀͘p̢e͢t̡! H̡ous̸̶͡e̢bŗ̷o̵k̵̶e̷n̨̧! T͢his ͟is̨ ̢w̡h̷e͝r̴e ͠you belo͟ng͡!”

The feathers caught in the tar, sharp and endless and smothering as they clung to his burning skin, choked him and caught in his streaming eyes. In the end the excruciating barrage was too much, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think—Then there was darkness.

When he woke, his bruised and burning body was struck with the bitter chill of the fifty-degree night air. His hands were bound behind him, sticky back plastered to a pole of some kind—a streetlamp. Its light sputtered disorientingly over his head, so he ducked it, letting his eyes close and coughing to dislodge the ugly taste of blood and tar from his mouth. Within moments, the coughs became strangled sobs that tore at every wound. “Hh…help me…p-please, please, s-someone help me…”

“Jamie?! Jamie!” That voice and the footsteps approaching from across the asphalt forced his tear- and tar-streaked face up, causing Schneep to falter, his own face transforming in horror. “Oh—oh, no—” He didn’t waste any more time than that, kneeling hurriedly behind him and drawing out his scalpel to tear through his bonds. “Is okay, little one, is okay, the good doctor’s got you!”

A few days later, Jameson lay silent and tearful in his medical bed, picking at a loose thread on the blanket that served to hide the vast swathes of bandaging over his legs. Schneep was perched beside him, brushing practiced fingers through his tangled hair, intending to soothe. The morphine and diazepam hadn’t been as kind to him as either of them had hoped during the endless icing and stripping of the tar; neither of them would forget anytime soon how he’d rocked his raw, blistered forehead into his seared knees and cried at the bottom of the bathtub.

“Jameson…” Schneep spoke up softly, luring the gentleman out of his pained thoughts. When JJ’s eyes met his, he paused to swallow before knitting his brows and continuing. “This is going to be the first birthday I celebrate with you. You…you know where I was this time last year. I feel a lot back then like you do now, but I—I am not going to let you stay in this place.”

Jameson perked up at that, a lump already forming in his throat, and Schneep shifted closer.

“I will protect you this Halloween, and we will celebrate you,” he whispered with a trying smile, shaky yet earnest. “Marvin and I will bake you a cake—three tiers, four—and we decorate it with candy corn. Chase will get you your very favorite ice cream, raspberry ripple, and Jackieboy will make all the balloon animals you want. We will sing for you, ‘He’s A Jolly Good Fellow’, and we will make you feel loved!”

Fresh moisture was already welling in Jameson’s eyes, though he wasn’t sure what it was for, the ache in his body or the longing in his heart. Schneep was quick to cup his cheeks, thumbing the tears away.

“Because you are loved, Jamie. You don’t belong to him. None of us do or ever will. We belong with each other, and that’s where you are staying, okay?”

With a shuddery breath Jameson managed a nod, letting his battered face rest there in the older Ego’s kind hands. “…Okay.”

#youtube #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #youtube fanfiction #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #dapper jack #dr schneeplestein #angst #whump #torture #hurt comfort #commission #emergency commissions

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pixelpolaroid · 5 years

Text

Ripples of the Past- Chapter 2

The demon’s caretaker

"Let the energy release from your body. All that built up anger and strength, let it go," The hero let out a deep breath, his body sinking deeper into the leather couch. A few moments passed and a gentle chime rang, signalling that the session was over. Jackie opened his eye, blinking rapidly as his eye adjusted back to the light. Chase stood up and blew out the candle on the desk in the side of the room. He glanced back at Jackie, who'd sat up in his seat by now, stretching out his limbs.

"It seemed easier for you to relax this time," Chase commented. The two had been doing weekly meditation sessions in Schneep's office since they'd found out about Jackie's issue. Thanks to Anti, they'd found out the voice he'd been hearing was Vigilante, who was basically the amalgamation of all Jackie’s inner demons. At first they worried he was going to try and harm the rest of the egos through Jackie, but after a few sessions with Chase it seemed like he was only worried about keeping himself alive, and in turn Jackie. Vigil was a part of Jackie, maybe a part of him that he didn't like, but still a part. The more Jackie became in sinc with his body and soul, the voice became quieter.

"Guess we can give Henrik his office back," Jackie joked. The two went back into the living room where Jamie and Henrik were sitting, watching whatever film had been playing that evening. The hero looked about the cabin. "Where's Anti?" He vocalized. Sure, the glitch wasn't that social to begin with, but ever since he'd woken, Jackie noticed that he was much more energetic at first. The long rest must have been good for him. He actually seemed happy sometimes. But all that quickly seemed to fade away, especially with the adjustment to not having his glitching abilities.

"He went out," Henrik answered. "He didn’t say where he was going, he just left." Though Jackie thought it was strange that he didn't ask further details, he knew that the doctor and glitch had a rough past. There were some things that Henrik still hadn't forgiven Anti for. Even if he didn't say it aloud, Henrik would always consider him an enemy, even if he was seemingly kind upfront.

As it grew later into the night, the egos split. Jackie and Jameson worked together to turn the basement into a new training room. They kept the cell, but they decided that rest of it should be utilized in some way. Chase went on to make dinner and Schneep returned to his office to finish some work. Even after dinner, the glitch hadn't returned,which no one really seemed to make notice of. They decided, in a silent agreement, that if he wasn't home in the morning, the they would try and find out here he went.

What was concerning though, was when Henrik woke up at 1 am needing to use the restroom, and noticed the light to the basement was on. That was odd, he wondered if Jackie and Jameson had forgotten to turn it out, but then he noticed the trail of melted snow leading from the front door, and down the stairs. Henrik groaned, mentally swearing as he slowly started descending downward.

As he grew closer to the bottom, the sound of broken grunts and mutters became more and more apparent. As expected, Henrik found an enraged and very drunk Anti slashing at the brand new punching bag Jackie had installed with a knife. For a while, Henrik just stood at the end of the steps and watched, silently judging.

Anti's back remained towards him for a long while, though as he circled the bag, his eyes landed on Henrik, and the doctor could see his eyes were red and puffy. His face was damp, and it probably wasn't from the snow. Anti glared at Henrik. "What!" He was clearly drunk, Henrik could tell by the way his words slurred. "Ya thinking bout how pathetic I am?" Henrik just shrugged, crossing his arms. That only seemed to anger Anti more. "Then fuck off! I don't fucking need it!"

The glitch went back to taking his anger out on the punching bag. Henrik shook his head. "Jackie just bought that," He called from his position.

“Your fucking point," He heard Anti mumble. The glitch just ignored him. As the doctor observed the scene around him he noticed Anti's coat had been discarded in the corner where he carelessly thrown it. Next to it was a nearly empty and new bottle of whiskey.

Before Anti could take another swipe at the punching equipment, he felt his arm hooked back and wrist be twisted until he just dropped the knife. Henrik pushed the demon away, his back hitting the wall as he stumbled to stand. "I fucking told you not to bring any extra alcohol to the cabin," The doctor scolded. Without warning he grabbed Anti by the shoulder and pushed him towards the stairs. "Get in bed. It's late and you're drunk."

Anti turned his head with a frustrated expression, though it was clear by the bags under his eyes that he was very tired. "You're not my fucking dad," He complained, but still listened, walking shamelessly up to his room. The whole time, Henrik followed behind him, eyeing him up and down for any possible injuries.

As the pair made it to the disastrous room, the doc stood in the door, looking around at the mess that the glitch had caused in the past few days. "You need to clean up your room."

"You need to mind your damn business," Anti maneuvered around the bedroom, throwing his stained shirt carelessly into the mess. Henrik looked over the grey scar that'd pierced through his abdomen. From the center of the mark, Henrik could see darker grey veins fractal out from the main point of damaged skin. Anti looked back, seeing that he was still there, staring at his scars. He turned away, subconsciously covering his stomach. "Are you fucking done peeping on me?"

Schneep crossed his arms and sighed, looking off into Anti's room again, away from the glitch. "Just get some sleep. You're gonna have a headache in the morning so come to my clinic tomorrow," Henrik didn't say anymore as he just slowly closed the door behind, heading back to the basement.

The doctor shook his head, looking over the damage Anti had done to Jackie's new punching bag. He'd have to help replace it before the hero torn Anti's head off. Since he was awake, Schneep gathered Anti's clothes and the bottles of whiskey. Returning to his room, He hid the alcohol in the bottom drawer of his desk. After Chase had his relapse when Marvin had left, Schneep implemented a limited alcohol rule on the cabin. It helped since most of the time, Schneep wouldn't leave Chase's side, being worried about the former father figure. Henrik threw Anti's jacket into a basket with a few of his own clothes. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep again tonight, so he'd might as well get some laundry done.

As the doctor was going through his coat, he found a few receipts in the pockets along with a flyer Anti must have grabbed it at some point in the bar. Though it confused him since the flyer was for a local circus that would be in Brighton for a few weeks. That's not really something he'd expect to see advertised in a bar. Though it's possible that Anti just went to buy booze, and didn't stop at a bar. Honestly, Henrik didn't really want to know half the stuff Anti got up to when he left the cabin.

He set the trash aside as he threw in the clothes and started a normal cycle. As he was leaving though, Trico, their small grey feline friend, had jumped up on the closed dryer and started tossing through the trash with his paw. Henrik sighed and tried to shoo him away. "Go away Trico," He quietly scolded. The cat didn't listen though, he just kept playing the the receipts, chewing on the corner of the flyer. Henrik rolled his eyes and just let him be. He knew the cat was smarter than the others realized, so the doctor just let him do his own thing for the most part. He just hated it when Trico insisted on climbing in his lap while he read.

Henrik returned to his office, leaving the door slightly cracked and just pulled out a bit of paperwork he needed to go over. He had Anti's most recent file. After the glitch had return to them, the doctor made sure to update Anti's health file. He took photos of the scars that littered the glitch’s abdomen. Reviewing them and remembering what he just saw, it seemed like the injury was getting worse, like an infection was spreading.

He didn’t know how off he might be, but after some thought Schneep came to the conclusion that the scar was due to whatever Dark had done that initially caused him to sleep for three months. Henrik needed to find out what actually happened to the glitch, and he knew that it was incredibly ridiculous to try and find information from Dark. Just the concept of the idea made him go pale. But that meant he was left to go to Anti. The idea of that made him want to binge drink.

Though he hated the concept, Henrik needed to learn. He needed to get information and find out what was happening to the glitch. He needed to know if this was something that would infect the others, he didn't want Anti putting the others in any more danger. Henrik shook his head, closing the folder for the night. He sighed, leaning against the arm of his chair. How was he supposed to get Anti to open up about what happened to him? How was he going to get Anti to talk about one of his most vulnerable moment to someone that he hated, and also hated him equally as much. That's where he'd start, Scheep decided. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he'd have to stop hating him for a while. Again, the thought made him want to drink. On top of taking care of all the other egos, he'd have to learn to stop hating Anti.

#ripples of the past #Dr Schneeplestein #jameson jackson #jackieboy man #chase brody #antisepticeye

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