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pxxppet · 1 year

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Making Happy (Part 1)

Teeth AU Chapter 3

The morning Marvin comes home; peace and strife all in just 8 hours.

-----------------------------------------

Jackie is gloved and sad once more. It's 5 a.m. when Chase finds him in the kitchen.

"B? Not sleeping again?" Chase approaches where he sits on the floor. "Jackie?"

Jackie isn't looking up at him, just curled up. Chase rubs his neck, mouth thin. He's uncomfortable seeing his brother look so small.

He sits across from him. Stares at him. His hands are twitching, but he tries to be strong for Jackie just as Jackie is for him. Red hoodie, grey hoodie. The same scar on their eyebrow.

"Remember when I was the youngest?" Chase smiles, Jackie looks over to him for a second or two. "You and Marv were so freaked out, man, you'd just lost Anti, Jack was so paranoid that he moved you all across England, and my dumbass certainly wasn't helping. Ha. Are you feeling that kind of fear again, bro?"

Jackie huffs out a laugh. "Worse this time."

"Worse than an attempt?!"

"Wha- Fuck you man you know I don't mean that!" Jackie reaches over and grabs him, pulling Chase under his arm and mussing his hair. Chase tries to stay quiet and shoves his big brother off, laughing.

"Does he really scare you that bad?" Chase quiets even more and frowns.

"I..." Jackie pauses, curls up again, breathes. "He's just- Jameson looks like him. And I even smell him sometimes around him. It's freaky." He laughs dazedly. "I keep finding new bloodstains on his sheets too. He could be self harmful like you were-"

Chase winces, blushing. He tugs at his hoodie sleeve to further cover the burn scars along his forearm. "Jameson doesn't seem like that type. He's really polite, I don't think he'd bleed on things if it was in his control." Chase speaks lightheartedly, despite his horrible words. The casuality on horror that only fathers and suicide survivors can show.

Jackie tugs his hood over his eyes as the sun begins rising through the kitchen window, staining the brown tile floor orange and gold. "You made it though, Chaser. I suppose he will too. Somehow- he has to."

Chase claps him on the shoulder softly. "Yeah, big man. He'll make it."

"Sorry for all the fighting when it all started," Jackie mumbles. "I just was scared."

"Jackie..." Chase sighs, running a hand down his tired face. "You've apologized three times already."

"I mean it though," Jackie insists.

"I know you do. You always mean it." Chase smiles at him soft, the sun lighting his gentle freckles. Jackie smiles back shyly, then dives at him and wraps him into a big brother hug. Chase laughs and cuddles in. "Let's go to June's Cafe and get pastries."

---

Henrik knocks on Jameson's door around 11 AM. Jameson lifts his head from his pillows, his hair stuck to them by blood. His vision is so blurry. Even more than usual, to the point he can't make out even his own hands. He coughs. Henrik takes that as a sign to come in, only to freeze at the sight of him.

"Maus!" He exclaims in shock, rushing towards him. "What happened, what happened?!"

Jameson doesn't respond, his eyes flickering sightlessly. Henrik stares at his emptiness for only moments before it clicks.

"Did you... Magic? Jameson, you shouldn't. Oh, Jameson, your nose must have practically hemorrhaged."

JJ feels himself cry. He can still smell Anti's arms, and judging by the goosebumps he feels on Henrik, he knows he can too. Yet his brother says nothing. Oh- His brother? Jameson blinks distantly. That's the first time he's had a thought like that. He can only make out the blur of peach white skin and thick, dark glasses of his friend. Henrik has been nothing but kind, nothing but thoughtful. But a bitter acid rests on Jameson's tongue as golden flowers wave in his mind's eye.

But then Henrik is tutting and pulling him close, and Jamie wraps shaking hands on the small of his back, eyes glassy.

"Jameson, come have a bath. I will cook some eggs for you with toast. Tea if you want. You look like you need big break."

JJ let's himself be helped out of bed, half limping half being dragged. He uses Chase's shower chair, and bathes fairly easily. A soft looking bar of cloud soap scents roses and thyme at him. He hasn't smelled it on any of the others, so he figures it belongs to the missing brother. Sibling? He has absolutely no clue.

He uses a tiny bit of it on his chest, breaking it off neatly to use just a bit. It covers the smell of his monster in flowers, just like his grave. The static is playing still in his ear, so faint it scares him. He's losing so many pieces of Anti. It makes him shake, a few silent tears mixing into the water.

He changes into one of Chase's sweaters, and some of Henrik's pants. The broadest shoulders and the thinnest waist are what fit him best. Slightly different from the others. He runs a hand through his drying hair, wondering if he has anything particularly unique. He can faintly see that Jackie is very tall, Henrik's body feels so slim, and Chase is a bit fatter and healthier due to comfort eating. Perhaps Jack gave him something of his own- Or perhaps he's a carbon copy. He trims his mustache with the first scissors he can feel out. He uses water to curl it on instinct, like he always has.

Henrik flips a mushroom and spiced omelet onto the plate with the buttery toast, a cup of English Breakfast laid out with the milk and sugar so Jameson can make it himself. Jameson raps on the wall to the kitchen, and Henrik turns to him with a smile he knows his friend can't see. Formalities, though.

Jameson let's himself be guided to his tea cup, and grasps at the milk. Oddly he doesn't add a hint of sugar at all. Henrik is honestly shocked, Jameson has the face of a man who takes his tea sweet.

They sit at the kitchen bar on the brown stools. Afternoon sun shines on the remaining grains of black sand, and yet Henrik is silent. Mercifully and understandingly silent.

---

Marvin is wearing Jace's orange hoodie, the one with a rose on the breast that smells like his clove oil cologne and Marvin's own smell. They sigh, staring up at the ceiling with a pinched tight face.

"Hey beetle?" they murmur. Jace gives a small, sleepy mumble, his blue hair poking in every direction. Marvin smiles softly, but it turns sad. "I think I need to go home. Today."

Jace sits up, suddenly fully awake. "Baby are you sure?! I thought you needed the break, y'know?"

"Mmm..." Marvin screws their eyes shut. "I need to face it eventually. I... I need to." Their voice is hollow, tired. Jace worriedly roams his eyes over their gaunt body.

"I trust you, but you're taking my hoodie for comfort."

Marvin chuckles and snuggles against him sleepily. They have to be brave somehow after all.

---

Jackie is in the woods. Again. Again and again. He killed him on a Friday. Now he gardens at his grave on that same day. The flowers are healthy, and only his family knows the guilty reason why they're doing so well.

His hands feel grounded and steady for the first time in weeks, buried in dirt and pulling weeds. His sweaty hair is in his face stubbornly despite a headband attempting desperately to hold it back.

Once everything is well, Jackie just... sits. The wind tousles the flowers in shinning waves. Jackie stares at the stick headstone, worn and afraid. He is so afraid. He wonders if Anti would be scared right now, if he had been that cheeky smiled teal haired kid. But Anti, green hued and so afraid he looks broken, floats over his vision of peace. Jackie reaches out and runs his hand over the carvings.

Footsteps crackle up the trail, and Jackie tenses. But when he turns, it's just Marvin. Just his beautiful, amazing sibling; back home to him. He smiles, standing. He raises and orange glowing hand and Marvin raises a blue, as they take each other in their magics softly, tugging on each other like they did as young folk.

Marvin laughs, nervous yet happy. "Jacksie!"

"Marvy!" Jackie laughs and runs over to them. He bounces in place from excitement, placing his hands on Marvin's shoulders. "You actually came home?"

"Of course, love." Marvin tries to smile casually, but Jackie can feel their tense muscles. "Why would I ever stay away?"

They walk back to the house, leaving the swaying golden grave behind.

----

"You let it used my soap?" Marvin feels hot, fists clenched. Jameson sits tensely at the table, not looking at them, face red. "Like it can just come in here and fucking smell like us all?! Like our scents are toys?"

"Marvin," Henrik warns. "Be. Nice."

Marvin flushes hotter, shaking. They thought they could do this. They really thought they could. But the fucking kid used his soap, his soap infused with his own magical scenting. Just took it for himself. They stare hard at Henrik, before releasing a loud "ugh!" and going to their room. The door doesn't slam, which is somehow worse.

"I- I'm sorry Jameson, I'm sorry." Jackie says, hurrying after them. "I'll talk to them, I'm sorry." JJ clings to fruit punch wafts to try drowning the guilty smell off of him.

Henrik looks back and forth, then pinches his temples. This is going to be rough.

#teeth au #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfic #jse fanfic #jameson jackson #henrik von schneeplestein #jackieboy man #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #my fics

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starlite-sin · 2 years

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Egotober prompt day 1: Hoodie

Jackie and chase go shopping to find an emotional support hoodie and Jackie’s got a service dog.

“Dude, these are so damn expensive!” Jackie held up a very soft black hoodie. Zeke, a black lab service dog, sat patiently and quietly at his feet. Chase looked around from another rack. “25 for this?”

“Good lord. This one’s 15, so it’s a bit cheaper but it might mess with your sensory.” The pair decided to go out and buy the hoodies to help Jackie. “There’s a lot over here, and they all look solid.”

The hero went and joined his brother, Zeke following closely next to him. Sometimes too close; Jackie had either tripped or accidentally kicked the poor thing way too many times during training.

Chase was standing in front of a rack covered in bright neon sweatshirts, and he was holding a red one. Already, Jackie didn’t like them, they were too bright. He felt the inside of one and his hand yanked back like he was burned. He shook his hand like he was trying to shake out the feeling. “Y-yeah no. Maybe not that. Plus, that’s all neon. That looks more like something Lucas would buy his brother.”

“Fair enough.” Their attention was grabbed when Zeke yelped, and a young girl’s hand pulled away from his tail. People started looking over at the sound of the dog.

“Hey, don’t do that!” Jackie snapped, maybe a little too harsh. The girl was young, probably only 10 or so.

“I wanna pet him!” The girl said.

“He’s working, okay? He can’t be pet right now,” Chase explained. “Where’s your parent?”

“Mom’s looking for dresses. Why’d you bring him if people can’t play with him? Dog’s aren’t allowed at the stores.” Chase looked over at Jackie, who was now visibly shaking. People were whispering and staring. They didn’t say anything to the brothers but Chase had heard it all. Jackie’s heard it all.

“We can’t talk right now. We’re running very late.” Chase just grabbed a sweatshirt and his brother, leading him past all the whispering people and their stares. As soon as it was bought, Jackie put it on and pulled the hood up, lowering his head and Zeke had to lead him to the car.

“You okay?” Chase asked. Jackie just shook his head.

“Let’s just go home.”

#egotober2022 #egotober day 1 #jackieboy man #chase brody fanfic #chase brody #jackieboyman fanfic #jacksepticeye fanfic #jacksepticeye egos #jse egos

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scunneredzombie · 2 years

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First Pair

Some headcanon snippets of Trick & Dapper’s short time as twins. These versions of Chase and Jameson belong to @beerecordings’s My Brothers Corrupted! I’m super rusty, but these turned out interesting. :)

[cw: collars, amnesia, implied injuries, bruises, suicidal ideation, abuse between brothers, manipulation, distress]

——————————————

When Dapper woke up that morning, there was someone beside him. He didn’t react much, it just meant Anti was done with whatever he’d set off for. “Be good Carve, I have some work to do. You might feel something odd. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, all will be well soon. Very well.” Dapper had been sad to sleep alone, but now, he has Anti. It’s only when he reaches up to rest his hand on his brother’s neck that he realizes something is very wrong.

His hand brushes something… soft. Pressed tight against pale, bruised flesh. Dapper raises his head and finds in bed beside him what was, until very recent, Chase Brody.

Dapper tumbles backward out of bed in confusion, whistling and pounding on the floor to call for Anti and Red. Chase- or whomever he is now, wakes with a startled snort. His fading green hair is already drenched in sweat, but somehow it looks even sweatier once he sees Dapper losing it.

“Wh-what is it?! What happened, bud?” Not-Chase (but fuck, does he sound like him) jumps up and tries to wrap himself around him, but Dapper balks at him and scurries back, wheezing. Not-Chase freezes on the floor and, seemingly hurt by the rejection, curls his legs against his chest instead, staring after him.

Dapper blinks, takes a breath. Not-Chase isn’t acting terrified and saddened by him anymore, so Dapper supposes Anti’s the one who put him here. Unsure, but less so, Dapper scoots back over to him, on his knees across from him. Not-Chase watches him move, seemingly just as unsure, and nods sending him a tense smile. Meeting eyes a shared thought crosses between them - “I know nothing about you, but I love you with everything I am.”

“Do you know why you’re here? Do you remember...” Dapper pauses. “Anything?”

“U-um,” Chase touches his head, distant. Gaping hole where his head should be. “No, man, not much. Anti… Anti. Woke up to him. Gave me th-this.” He gestures to a soft, yellow collar, the softness Dapper had brushed against before. Dapper subtly reels back from him, with a look that makes him burn with shame even though he doesn’t know why. “D-don’t,” is what says, in a soft beg. “Besides, you have one too.”

Dapper’s hands fly to his neck, but rather than the old rope or chain, he now feels the same soft texture. Silk. A silk collar with a thick buckle. Dapper’s hands lower, shaking. “What colour,” he signs dryly, no question on his face.

“Black, it’s cute, kind of. Mine’s yellow, see, like sunlight.”

“I can’t see colour, C-happy.”

“Oh.”

They sit together in silence for a bit, one curled one crisscrossed. And Dapper feels himself shatter, just like the last time he shattered, but only hurting worse each time. Yet somehow, in merciful seconds, he reconstructs and focuses on his brother instead.

“Do you know why Anti put you in my room? Did he say?”

“N-no, he didn’t. Just- I woke up and I barely knew anything except um… Anti and you.”

“Me?” Dapper blinks. Now that he didn’t expect. Why him and not the brother he came here with, or even Red who’d helped break him in? “Just me?”

“Y-yeah just you and Anti. And… someone. Um, far away. Glasses. Broken ones.”

“Did Anti tell you your name?”

“My… name? I don’t… Oh, yeah, he said you know it! Or, wait. No, it’s… Trickshot?” His cadence is more like a question.

“Anti likes to call you that sometimes,” Dapper shrugs. “Makes sense.” Seemingly calmed by Dapper being more knowledgeable, Trickshot begins to toy with Dapper’s cuff links, sighing.

“I don’t really have anything to talk about, but you don’t talk either so we can just be quiet or we can try-“

The two locks on the door click open. Both of them startle, but Trickshot seems hopeful while Dapper is less so.

“There’s my boys,” says Anti, walking in wearing vibrant green hair, blue eyes, and a face that’s near-identical Trick’s, though missing the heavy bandages and bruising. “Done saying hi?” Dapper, unsure, holds out his hand to Anti, who hums and leans down to kiss his palm. Trick looks on, tilting his head to the side.

“Um, hi Anti. Yes, we’re done, if you want us to be.” Trick follows Dapper’s lead and holds out his palm. Anti chuckles, and kisses his as well.

“So sweet on me, Trickshot, not like a few weeks ago huh. You’re my good boy now, right?”

“Yes Anti,” he says, sending a tight-lipped smile. “Can- c-can you- can you explain anything, please, sir? My head hurts a-and I don’t know what’s really going on.”

“You’ll learn soon. Silly Stammer.” The nickname makes Trick’s cheeks flush pink, lowering his head. “Dapper knows all the rules, he’ll teach you how to behave. Until then, I brought you some puppy chow,” Anti smiles, making himself laugh. He hands them each a small can of pre-prepared chicken salad. Hungry – fuck, make that starving – Trickshot takes his can in earnest and peels back the lid, digging in with his bare fingers. Anti smiles and pets his hair as he walks past.

He leans down to Dapper tugging him forward by his collar, whispering. “Help me break him in, got it, pup? You play nice, and I’ll treat you like my sweet baby. You turn him against me, and I’ll gut him in front of you.” Dapper, stays silent, eyes wide. Anti lets go of him and flops down on his king bed. “I’m so fucking tired, the other two are such a fucking headache ugh.”

“Other two?” Trick asks, touching his head, eyes seeming to get foggy.

“Yeah, Trick, your brothers in the other room. You only see them in an emergency.”

“Does one of them have glasses?” Trick blurts.

Anti sits up, and looks at him blankly. “Don’t talk about your other brothers, Trickshot.”

“Okay, Anti.”

Dapper glances between them, head kept low. He scoots over to Trick, and reaches out to eat with him, smiling in the friendliest way he can muster. Trick seems calmed by this, tension falling out of his shoulders. Dapper knows what to do. Dapper knows what seems to make Anti pleased. Follow Dapper and you’ll be good.

—

Thunk, thunk.

“I’m bored Dap, play ball with me!”

Thunk, thunk.

“Dapperrrr,” Trick whines, ball bouncing back to his hand. Dapper sticks his tongue out at him and turns back to his sketchbook. “Fine, Anti? Wanna play?”

“Trick, you’re insufferable. Toss me it!” Anti sticks up his hand, and Trick tosses it to him, laughing. Anti smiles, observing his pets. The twins have matching hair, short shaved on the sides, and long and floppy on top. They wear matching yellow hoodies with suns stitched over the left breast, their collars tucked underneath. Anti tosses back the ball extra hard, but Trick catches it no problem, giggling.

“Nice try, but I’m literally named Trickshot, you’ll never get one past me, Anti!”

Anti fake groans in despair, glitching at the edges, a laugh overlapping in the background. They toss back and forth, Anti throwing at wild angles – yet Trick catches it every time. Anti pauses for a moment, and then throws the ball into Dapper’s back roughly. Dapper nearly jumps a foot in the air and whirls around.

“Trickshot why would you do that!” Anti says scolding.

“W-wait what?”

“Dapper, sick ‘em.”

Dapper grins and gets into a fighter’s bow, tackling Trick backwards. They tussle on the floor laughing and teasing. Anti watches on with brown eyes and downy hair. Such fun to watch pets play. Every joyful moment solidifies Trick is in his control.

—

Dapper lays on the bed numbly, a thick rope around his neck overlapping his collar, a fresh bruise on his cheek. Trick lays white-faced beside him, tears streaking his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried to stop him, I don’t know why, why did he hit you, I thought he loves us, doesn’t he love us, Dapper, JJ, doesn’t he love us?“ Trick is babbling, clinging to Dapper’s cutesy dog print collared shirt. The small corgis and dachshunds are stained with nose-bled blood. Dapper is too tired, too distant, too numb to comfort his twin. Anti is not happy. Anti is really upset with him. Dapper had tried to refuse to come to bed because he was certain there were spiders on the sheets. Anti had tried dragging him, and when that didn’t work, he’d slammed his face against the floor to knock him down, then tied him in place. Trick screamed and pulled at Anti’s shirt, trying to get them apart, but it was no use as this only made Anti leave in a huff.

Dapper shivers as he feels crawling on his back. Trick is panting through his sobs. Dapper reaches slowly up to touch his twin’s cheek, the only comfort he can handle. Their watery eyes meet, and there is only matching hopelessness to be found.

A while later, Anti returns and shoves himself between them, ignoring their stifled crying. After an hour, once Trick believes Anti to be asleep, he calls out. “Dapper… Dapper I think the only way out of this is to die. Dap, I think the only way out is- to- t-to-“ Trick is cut off by his own stammer and dissolves into more tears. Dapper only hides his gaze from Anti, knowing full and well his older brother is not asleep.

And in a few days, when Dapper wakes, he’ll be alone again. When Dapper wakes it will be to blame and beatings and “it’s all your faults” from Anti. Dapper will sink into hypnotism so deep he cannot think, with glares and hatred from a twin who once loved him. To brothers who don’t know him, and a thick rope tying his heart to that lonely little bedroom with his monster.

#fanfic #jacksepticeye #my brothers corrupted #jacksepticeye egos #jacksepticeye fanfic #jacksepticeye fanfiction #writersofjack #chase brody #jameson jackson #antisepticeye #my stuff #whump #jacksepticeye whump #two whumpees #kidnapping whump

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katies3pticeye · 1 year

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Hey JSE Tumblr! So, I’ve been working on an ego fanfiction for awhile now, and I’d really like to hear your thoughts on it!

By now, Chase, Jackie, Marvin, and Henrik have been in it, and Jack, JJ, and Anti have been mentioned.

It’s told from Chase’s POV, but it’s intentional for the reader to feel closer to Chase throughout the story.

Please check it out if this interests you! (Also, sorry for all the tags. I don’t have much of a following, so I kind of rely on them.)

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jacksepticeye theory #chase brody #jacksepticeye ego #marvin the magnificent #antisepticeye #dr schneeplestein #jj #septic egos #pma #bro average #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #fanfiction #jacksepticeye fanfiction #Jacksepticeye fanfic #fanfic #jse fanfiction

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twinantithesis · 2 years

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Bodysnatching vessel, personified pain of a Creator, unknown creature living inside a secret, I give you...

The Anti & his Body.

F̴̥̅ȉ̶̲l̴̤̔e̷̪͊ ̴͔̋c̸͕͘o̶̩͂r̶͎̍r̵̺͘ṷ̷̓p̵̲̅t̶̠̄e̸̱͝d̶̝̅.̶͚͛ ̴̢͂Ň̸̪ö̶̢́ ̷̻̔b̷̭̿a̵̳͒ć̵̺ḱ̷̢s̶̲̈́t̵̖͊o̸̳͝r̸̡̄y̶̥͗ ̸̪̊f̶̰͌o̴̰͝u̸̯͐ṉ̷̈́d̶̻͘.̷͙͗ ̷̼̌Ņ̵̒o̵̹̿ ̵̰̾m̸̦̿o̴̡̽r̶͂ͅe̴̳͘ ̶̠͂s̸͖̀t̸͚̒ȏ̴̘r̴̰̀i̷̮͂è̵͓s̵̰̋.̴̫̈ ̵̞̊Î̶͓ ̶͉̈́a̶̦̿ṁ̴͚ ̷̫͂h̸̪͝e̶̡̿r̸͈̅ȇ̵͕.̶͕͠ ̴̦̒

Anti’s vessel is around 21, 6′2, and made perfectly to fit him and be comfortable to wear.

Anti was born a monster; he was an idea implanted into Jack’s skull like a sucking leech that would not let him go. Anti birthed himself, crawling out of Jack’s repressed thoughts like a dying, screeching hellfire. He tried using Jack’s body instead of forming his own like the other Creations. All Anti knew was fear and anger. He tried to kill himself but ‘himself’ was Jack. Jack eventually ejected him forcefully as he was nearly bleeding to death, and left him to wander as an incorporeal, invisible bundle of energy with no body.

Anti came back, again and again, developing powers to manipulate the minds he possesses. Anti can ‘consciousness possess’, or ‘subconsciousness possess’. Consciousness possessing is the stereotypical demon possession, where the person is forced into their own head and replaced with Anti. Subconscious possession is more like Anti resting within the back of the person’s brain, and influencing their thoughts and actions. Both types result in amnesia, body aches, and dissociation.

Anti made Body using Jack. He snuck into his head for two days, created a perfect body that fits like a tailored glove. Jack was left with complete amnesia. No one - none of the Creations, not even Jack - knows about Body.

The discovery of Anti using Body was the last straw in Jack’s mental break down. Another suffering Creation was too much.

Anit being ritually ejected from Body by the others is the climax of the story, so I won’t reveal anything more!

#the zalgo text says:#file corrupted. no backstory found. no more stories. i am here now.#antisepticeye #septicart #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfic #jacksepticeye fanart #jacksepticeye egos #my art #jacksepticeye au

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uniquewritersblock · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Jacksepticeye Power Hour (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Chase Brody, Henrik von Schneeplestein, Stacy Brody Additional Tags: splitting up, children being in danger, Angst, is this pre-canon?, Backstory, mom being worried for her kids, gaslighting the kids, hurt without comfort

#chase brody fanfic #jacksepticeye fanfic #henrik von schneeplestein #chase brody

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pencilpat · 2 years

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"At least you're gone and you can't hurt me anymore,"

Thinking about Trick & Anti again :'( (MBC by @beerecordings)

#antisepticeye #chase brody #septicart #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye au #my brothers corrupted #beerecordings #jacksepticeye fandom #jacksepticeye fanfic #jacksepticeye fanart #manipulation tw #distress tw #abuse tw #antiaverage #glitches tw #flashing gif #flashing tw #vent #vent at

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pxppet · 1 year

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Iris AU - Part 2

(Part 1)

-👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁-

Two IRIS employees sit in a rather bland looking home, talking with the owner over gone cold coffee.

"Why would you ask me to do this?"

"You're a perfect lure for him."

The homeowner sits back in his chair away from them, folding his fingers into each other. "You are joking."

"No, we wouln't joke over a matter as serious as getting him back under containment."

The man shakes a finger at them, angry and disbelieving that this is real. "No. No, no, no. You promised me I would never have to get near that thing again. When you let me go you said I would never have to be involved!"

"Please calm down, Mr. Schneeplestein," calls the more tired and haggard looking of the two. "The ALTRs containment wasn't expected to ever be broken, and this is a dire situation."

"Dire? Why should I care if it kills other people, all I care about is never seeing it again."

"Henrik," the second one in a lab coat attempts in a way too friendly way. "I know that those months were traumatic for y-"

"Understated, like any good IRIS poppet would."

"Mr. Schneeplestein if you don't do this, he may come for you anyway. At least this way you'll be guarded and have a high likelihood of us recapturing him to further keep you safe."

Henrik balks at them, trying not to look as furious as he is. He pinches his forehead over and over, feeling a headache start in the same place it always does, the heavy scar along the back of his skull. "You're insane. The whole company."

"Sir, you're needed for something bigger than yourself. Isn't that what doctors do?"

"I haven't been a doctor in years."

"If we can't convince you, we will use force. Too many lives are at risk, and too many have already been taken. We have no way of knowing he won't come for you. ALTR 114209 is obsessive when it comes to the people he chooses to 'serve' his purposes. All we're doing is ensuring you don't have to go through anything like that again."

"Try drinking shitwater out of a moldy pipe while that thing laughs at you, and after you know what it's like do this your goddamn self."

The employees glance at each other, and the tired guard stands up.

"We don't want to use force. Last chance." The mans hand is gripped on the taser in his belt.

Henrik feels his heart in his throat at the thought of ever being electrocuted again. The floor lights up and a blaze of agony stabs into him. But no, he's at home in his apartment. He just wants them gone. Don't look at me, he pleads in his head.

"Fine," he tries to sound drawn and cocked like a bow, but even he hears how badly his voice cracks. "I will help. But you have to keep that thing away from me as much as possible. I am not running blind into forests or slathering myself in butter. That thing and I have as little contact as you can manage."

The guard stands down. "Your help is appreciated, doctor. The van is waiting out front, we can fully explain the plan as we go."

Henrik sighs, drinks the remains of his freezing coffee, and stands to follow them out. Goodbye nice apartment, goodbye rebuilt life. The goons have plans for you.

Chase feels tired. Even still holding Anti's hand, which usually seems to make that go away. Even with shoes, they've been walking for nearly 6 hours across the English countryside. His body hurts. He's thirsty. But he can't seem to open his mouth to complain.

"We're getting closer," Anti says, as though reading his mind. "Even you'll be able to feel him soon."

Feel him? Chase feels a pang of fear at not knowing what that will mean. He doesn't have to wonder long.

He feels the smell of an antique store slap him across the face as they pass into a clearing, and he suddenly notices that an entire portion of the sky is… grey. Not with clouds, the usual blue has just been completely washed out to nothing. He stares up at it as Anti pulls him along, and for a brief moment he stumbles over his feet as his mind tries to stop him from going any closer. Anti doesn't even seem to notice, his entire face has contorted with excitement and he's nearly pulling them into a sprint.

Anti stops, across the clearing and against the next line of trees. "He doesn't like people he doesn't know. Wait here, Chase."

Chase feels his feet freeze in place, his entire body stiffening into an upright position. Wait, as a physical command on him. He feels foggy as Anti walks away, images and sounds flashing in his mind. Things he's seen before and things he never has. His wife's face, his old guitar, a childhood television show, a bowtie, Anti's face when they met- It cycles through his fluttering eyes so quickly that he can't tell what's real. He starts panting slightly. Where did Anti go? He feels his hands begin to shake.

His breathing has progressed to hyperventilating, when suddenly Anti's hand is in his again. Everything clears instantly and his eyes refoucus onto Anti, grinning, his eyes glowing even brighter than usual in their pits.

"Chase, this is my friend. Say hello."

Chase looks behind him, and whatever he was expecting, well, it's not that.

A polite-looking younger man bounces on his toes, half behind a tree. Like a child hiding. The only odd thing about him is just how pale white his skin is, and just how deeply black his hair and irises are.

"Hi?"

The man doesn't really do anything. No words come out, no gestures. He looks almost timid and tiny behind the tree. Chase swallows down his nerves.

"Uh, I'm- I'm Chase. What's your name?"

The man still doesn't do anything, his face nearly cartoonishly afraid. Chase looks at Anti in confusion.

"Oh, right, 'course. He's like a lot of creatures, doesn't really respond at first unless you use his own language."

"I don't speak anything but English and a highschool course level German, man."

Anti scoffs. "When did your kind get like that?!"

"Most people only speak one or two, I don't know what you want from me!"

Anti chuffs at him, like an annoyed dog. He turns back to look at his friend, and then looks at Chase. "Just copy my hands, okay?"

Chase watches his hands make a variety of shapes, tapping and touching each other. He figures it's sign language of some kind, but it's hard to follow it. He attempts to though, looking at the man with a slightly forced smile.

"You just told him your name, watch him now."

The man steps out from the tree, arms to the side as though he's trying to emphasise how lightly and carefully he moves. He siddles right up to Chase, and his hands slowly come upward. Chase doesn't have time to think before the man grabs both of his cheeks and squishes them. Chase accidentally blows a raspberry from the sudden force, and the man grins widely at him, shaking in his shoulders but making no noise.

"He likes you," Anti assures when Chase gives him a hurried glance. Chase blinks, confused but not entirely scared anymore. Anti's friend seems harmless. Just a... odd, overly formally dressed guy who doesn't speak. Ok, he can work with that.

Anti begins moving his hands again excitedly, and Chase watches them converse, slightly in awe. Not that sign language is unusual, it's just seeing these two almost-but-not-quite-humans use it that sets off his 'weird' radar.

Chase resigns to let them talk, and begins to sit down to rest. A branch crackles under him as he does, and Anti's friend stiffens in place as a massive wave of something bursts out of him. Chase tries to stand up and apologize but he... can't move. Can't do anything. Even Anti is frozen with a half smile and eyes halfway to looking at Chase. His blood feels strange. He doesn't think he's ever felt his blood, but it's like it's... heavy, all of a sudden.

The friend is still moving, rubbing a fist on his chest with wide eyes. The wave recedes back inside the man, and Chase gasps in a breath, not having realised he wasn't breathing. The rush of oxygen makes him light-headed and he falls the rest of the way onto his ass.

Anti is laughing, and grabs his friend and puts him in a headlock, rubbing his hair into a mess. "Asshole, I haven't seen you in 150 years and that's how you treat me?"

The smaller man is being smothered, and despite what just happened Chase finds himself worried Anti is actually hurting him. Not that he would risk getting between that.

Instead the man breaks free, shaking in that same way, shoulders heaving. Chase realises he's laughing, the open mouth clicking the pieces into place. A totally soundless laugh. A totally soundless... everything. Even his footsteps don't make much noise at all in the leaves as he tussles back and forth with Anti.

"Alright, enough!" Anti shoves at him and he dips respectfully in a small bow as he's thrown back. "We needed you to keep safe, but now I need a place for my human to sleep. Anything you can think of?"

The man taps his chin and foot in thought, face screwed up. He signals a lightbulb going off with his finger, and begins signing to Anti again.

Chase just tries to catch his breath on the ground before he'll have to walk again.

They seem to make up their mind, and Anti walks over to him, holding out his hand. "JJ has a place in mind for us. Let's go, Chase."

Wordlessly Chase feels his exhausted body follow Anti's instructions as their trek through the forest begins again, now with a third companion.

#iris au #jacksepticeye iris #henrik von schneeplestein #chase brody #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #writersofjack #writers of jack #jacksepticeye fanfic #jse egos

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southerndragontamer · 19 days

Text

You Only Get Three Strikes

This is my interpretation of how things after the amazing fanart by @andaboop went

Actor hummed an old tune to himself as he adjusted his tie in the mirror and flashed himself a grin. He had just finished up setting things up for the confrontation with Dark in their next encounter, he wondered if it would work enough he could bring out Damien again. He had sent his….no not partner, that was reserved for someone else…..like minded fellow? That sounded right, out to go through the plan Actor had crafted for him about some hero, magician? Whoever the target he was after.

He’d really lucked out in meeting the other, it was always nice to have a trump card in your pocket and though he was a bit…jagged around the edges the actor was confident that the shared interest in their respective goals would help him figure out how to direct those edges the way he’d like.

His thought process was derailed when the door was slammed open. No, that wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t slammed so much as kicked in so hard it flew to the opposite wall. He whirled around, cane in hand ready to defend himself as his mind immediately jumped to William or Damien only to blink as he saw the glitch there. His smile fit into place as he relaxed.

“Oh it’s you my friend! You gave me a heart attack there-”

His voice cut off by force by a clawed hand that snapped around it with the speed of a striking cobra, or a bear trap when it shut from the pressure plate being triggered. He gagged and choked and instinctively tried to pry away the fingers that felt like they were going to snap his windpipe in two. He attempted to kick as he was lifted into the air and slammed against the wall.

Anti’s face was twisted in a near wild fury, all his fangs bared and body glitching as the lights began to flicker and dim. His eyes were glowing like a live wire as he spat out, Irish accent thickened even further than normal.

“Shut yer damn mouth. I don’t wanna hear a sound outta ye, unless I say you can talk.”

Actor couldn’t have tried to speak right now if he wanted to, he tried to nod as his vision swam with black spots. Just as he thought he was going to pass out, or need to reconstruct his throat again, he was let go and dropped like a sack of bricks. He held in the gasp as oxygen flooded into his lungs and covered his mouth to muffle the cough as he looked up at the glitch for a reason why he’d suddenly flown off the handle.

Anti’s glare was like looking at a lightning strike inches from where you stood, the sense of if he wasn’t careful he’d have to dig himself out of a grave again. The glitch stepped back and manifested his knife as he started to absently twirl it in his fingers with the ease of someone that had wielded a blade for a long time.

“I was willing to give ye a chance ya know, at working together. You talk a big game pretty boy. But you can’t cash it. I went with that ‘plan’ of yours that ye made for me. And do you wanna know what happened?”

Actor felt his stomach start to knot and sink, his heart picked up and he felt the hair raise on the back of his neck at the way the lights flickered and threatened to pop, sparks arced off of the glitch’s skin as his voice dropped into a growling hiss.

“I had the magician about to collapse at my feet when the damned timekeeper intervened. They got away from me. Oh I can find em again, easy as breathing, my strings don’t allow any less. But it’s the principle of it all.”

Actor resisted the urge to hunch in on himself as Anti’s head snapped around at a sickeningly off angle and speed and instead he began to try to save face, backpedal as he stood up. His best apologetic expression on as he tried to keep from going out of the frying pan into the fire. His eyes shone a brighter red and he weaved his own kind of power into his words like red ribbon braided together to hide blood.

“I’m sorry that it didn’t work like I intended friend, but I didn’t take everything into account it seems when I made my plan.”

That was as far as the ‘apology’, because such a word was only proper in a true sense of remorse for actions, got as he found his jaw exploded in pain from the literally lightning fast blow to one side. He felt bone crunch and fracture as he collapsed to the floor and held his jaw in place as it began to repair itself.

Only to choke and blood to spurt out of his mouth by the sharp kick that echoed with the cracking of ribs, just as quickly he was hauled up by the collar of his suit and the knife was pressed deeply against his skin. Ruby droplets trailed down the edge of the blade as Anti half snarled.

“I told you. Not. A. Sound. You must not have much grey matter between your ears, or you’re just a glutton to get your arse beaten. So let me explain this in a way you’ll be sure to understand.”

Actor winced and his eyes squinted as the glowering, searing light of Anti’s eyes were right in front of him. The knife cut in just a bit deeper into his skin. The glitch’s tone went from utterly furious about to stab someone, to calm and measured and almost cold rage that was somehow almost more terrifying.

“If you’re not one of my puppets, you get three strikes. Your first mistake was fockin things up for me reclaiming one of mine. The second one was the half-arsed, shite apology ya tried to make.”

And Anti grinned, slow and cruel and his eyes had a sadistic glint in them as he chuckled and finished in an almost croon. The lights shone green and the white noise of static snow started to hurt Actor’s ears enough to make him wince and he swore for a second something started to bleed.

“Your final strike? Thinking I was too stupid to know you didn’t expect more out of me than dumb muscle eager to get to fighting, someone that wouldn’t question anything.”

The lights flared such a bright green that it went white and then popped with the sound of fizzling soda and shattered glass. Actor subconsciously, human instinct still ingrained after so long of being inhuman, flinched, shut his eyes and covered his head. The sound of shrieking static made him cover his ears as they ached and he was positive he felt his eardrums burst, his head ached as the sound pierced through his skull.

The shrieking came again, not just a wall of sound but laughter. Actor had never been one that dealt well with being made a joke, pride bristled in indignation as his eyes snapped open and he started to growl, to snap back at the glitch for being so ungrateful for his help. His mask dropped as his true form slipped through the handsome image he portrayed. Like the true face of Dorian Grey, sickened, rotten and ugly.

Only he saw that Anti had dropped his mask as well…

Instead of a human with glowing green eyes, sharp claws and fangs to betray the inhuman underneath…what stood in front of Actor was something that could only be called eldritch. Lightning and static in a silhouette that was humanoid but not, it glitched and twisted on itself, crackling at the seams. He blinked and it shifted each time as if it couldn’t decide on how to ‘appear’. Too long, too many ‘limbs’ too long claws that took the place of fingers, jaws filled with rows and rows of razor blade fangs, it looked too big for the space it was in, the walls creaked and groaned with the strain to hold it in.

His head ached like the worst migraine he’d ever had, his ears rang and he felt blood dripping from his nose, the world felt like it tilted and he felt like he was going to throw up. There was a rumbling of thunder and then he was aware of his body falling and convulsing as his brain lit up with only agony as a reason. Past the pain and the searing white noise in his ears that felt like it was trying to break his mind apart, he grit his teeth at the shrieking, piercing laugh that had him swallow down bile.

“Already on the ground writhing like a snake without its head~ You thought you were such a tough shot because you constantly annoyed Dark, ohhh boyo you got no idea of what forces you’re playing with now~”

The sensation of barbed wire cutting and tearing, ripping into his skin as the glitch’s strings wrapped around his limbs and yanked him up to his feet. Up further still to Anti’s ‘face’…too many eyes, shades of green, black, blue and some brown, they looked like fractured images through cracks in a mirror. The glitch’s body waved and rose as it spoke, like watching a sound wave on a computer screen.

As much as Actor tried to hold it in, as he finally realized how in over his head he was, that making a deal with the glitch had been a horrible mistake, when he felt the lightning forced through his body again, he screamed. Anti’s cackling laughter of delight rang in his ears and covered the sound as it echoed in on itself.

“It’s been a while since I had a chance to play with something that can survive it~ Oh yes, I’m aware you can’t stay dead~ You’re gonna wish you were back in that manor when I get bored of you~”

#Actor!Mark #Jerk who caused all this #Markiplier Ego #Markiplier Fandom #Antisepticeye #Glitch Demon #Jacksepticeye Ego #Jacksepticeye Fandom #Fanfic #South Writes #Blood TW #Violence TW #Knives TW #Over 13 #Injuries TW

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lirusstories · 1 year

Text

Heartstopper

Inspired by this post

Jameson taps his fingers rhythmically against his leg as he sits inside his gilded cage watching the black and white TV they brought him, Stars, 60 years ago? He really wishes they’d upgrade it by now. He knows color TV exists now.

The facility however, does seem to be doing it’s best to please him, most likely to keep him calm and compliant. Technically he could break out, but he’d rather stay in one place so he can be found easier. Besides, once they let him make his own food his experience has increased exponentially so!

He hears some workers outside of the room with a voice he’s never heard before.

He turns to look at the door as it opens, two older works and as he suspected, a new intern who seems to think highly of himself.

He smiles and waves at them and the two scientists who’ve dealt with him before avoid looking directly at him. The intern on the hand pauses before turning to one of the scientists.

“Are you sure this is the right ALTR?”

“Yes Johnson now-”

“But he’s so cute!”

“That's what makes him so dangerous.” The other snaps at the intern in a strained quiet voice.

Jameson can feel his smile become more strained as he watches them. Jameson raises a hand, smiling as brightly as he can, catching the researchers and interns attention before waving.

The intern seems to melt while the researchers avoid looking at him.

“Aww he’s baby~” The intern coos in a not so quiet voice and it takes all Jameson has to not let his face twist with disdain.

The taller scientist, Micheal if he recalls correctly clears his throat as he enters the room further.

“Apologies Mr. Jackson, the restocking for your food as been delayed, if they are not here by 5pm we’ll allow you access to the kitchen to make whatever you like.”

Jameson merely nods in understanding. As long as he doesn’t need to go back to that awful gruel they dared call food again.

“We’re merely here to check on a few things and show Mr Johnson the ropes.”

Jameson nods again before lifting his hands and signing, “‘Tea?’”

“No, thank you, Mr. Jackson.”

Jameson merely nods again and goes back to tapping his fingers. Perhaps he’ll paint off his unfinished dolls tonight…

“What did he say?” The intern, Johnson, asks.

“He was just asking if we wanted some tea.” Tom, The other scientist mutters.

“Aww, he’s so sweet.”

“Focus Johnson.”

‘So unprofessional.’ Jameson thinks as he watches them, looking back at his show he decides to just make himself tea.

For the next thirty minutes he can feel the eyes of the intern looking back to watch him when he makes his tea and when he sits back down, drinking it and watching his show.

Around the thirty-minute mark, Micheal comes over with his clip board.

“Anything you’d like to request before we leave Mr. Jackson?”

“‘A Colored TV would be wonderful.’”

The scientist, pauses, looking at him, almost surprised before slowly nodding and writing something down.

He hears Thomas translate for the intern as Jameson stands up.

“Oh my god he’s so small.” Johnson whispers as her takes the three of them to the door, Tom explaining to Johnson that it’s something he does because he says it’s polite.

And Jameson stands firm on that stance thank you very much. However, this intern on the other hand…

Jameson feels his hand twitch, his sleeve far too empty for his liking before smiling to himself.

“Have a nice day Mr. Jackson.” Are Micheal's parting words, then tom but the inter stays behind, looking down at Jameson with the smile.

“See ya later Jackson.” Then the man reaches up, patting Jameson’s face. Jameson’s hand twitches, resisting the urge to rip the man's hand away.

“Johnson no-!”

Jameson smiles pleasantly, adorably, at the man. Earning him a smile in return before the intern freezes before being ripped away from Jameson.

Not even a second later and the intern collapses. Jameson smiles at the two man, staring at the now corpse of the coincidently former intern. Waving a goodbye before closing his door as he hears more people approaching.

Hm, perhaps he will paint a doll, he thinks he knows exactly how he wants it to look. He wonders if his family will like it when they finally find him.

taglist: @immabethehero @malaboos-bodacious-blog @protectjj @glitchyartist

Sorry we've had some pretty bad writes block when it's coming to bits and pieces we'll try and update it doon

If you like our writing feel free to join our Discord where we're starting to be more active on and if you can spare some cash, throw some at us on our Ko-Fi and make sure to like and reblog!

#jse jameson jackson #jameson jackson #jse iris #iris #jse egos fanfic #jse egos #jacksepticeye egos #jacksepticeye fanfic #our stuff

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pxxppet · 1 year

Text

Making Happy (Part 2)

Teeth AU Chapter 3

Jameson get some psychiatric help, but it leaves him with lots to process.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

The psychiatrist barely looks him in the eye the entire appointment, and Jameson finds himself wishing desperately she had let Henrik in. He has to write in a little notebook rather than sign.

"Do you hear or see things that others do not?" Her voice is so clinical. She clicks a pen repeatedly, eyeing the clock. Jameson points to 'rarely' on the page before him. It has happened occasionally, when he does see anything at all that is. Why did she ask a blind man this, again?

"Do you not trust what you think is real?"

His hand hesitates the movement. That seems to be true every single day this past while. 'Often.'

"Do you sense that others might be controlling you? Your thoughts or actions, such as."

Jameson shifts on the uncomfortable grey chair. Someone was for a long time. How would he not? 'Very often.'

"Do you struggle to keep up with daily living, such as showers or cleaning?"

'Often.'

"Do you feel like you have powers that other people can't understand?"

Yes, always, ever since he was born. 'Never.'

"Do you have trouble organizing or keeping track of your thinking?"

'Often.'

"Are you struggling with maintaining your social relationships?"

Constantly. 'Rarely.'

"Do you feel like you're being followed or tracked?"

Static, static, louder the farther from the house he moves. 'Often.'

"Do people have trouble guessing the emotion on your face?"

Jameson's face has been dead aside from forced-looking smiles the entire day. 'Often.'

She regards him at last, looking him over. "Your hands are stiff, your face is emotionless, and you seem to have some odd thinking. I'll start you on paliperidone, a newer medication, and I'll prescribe benzodiazepine limitedly for those freezing up episodes you mentioned. I'll need to observe you in a few other appointments, and get a lab work-up before I'll officially diagnose you and prescribe refills."

And with that it's over; he's standing outside the quickly closed door. Must be lunch time. Henrik comes running from the waiting area, but is halted by the front desk worker. She, at least, seems to pity them, because she sighs and concedes to let him by once she glances back and sees how wobbly on his legs Jameson is. Henrik rushes up to him and offers him his arm. Jameson gratefully accepts.

"How are you feeling?" Henrik mumbles.

"Tired" JJ responds honestly. He brushes across the long hair laying across the back of his neck. "Need to go home."

Henrik smirks. "You'll be as long as Marvin soon if you don't let someone cut your hair." He guides Jameson along to their car on his arm, helping him buckle in, then getting into the driver's seat.

As they drive, JJ keeps his cheek pressed to the cool window. Summer will be over soon and the days are growing colder. He watches the pinpoint spot of colours rush by in the black. Anti used to cut his hair. A razor to the sides and scissors to the top, always matching their hair in a trendy long-on-top-short-on-sides style. Their outfits always looked at least similar, aside from the days he would play dress-up and put him in vests and ties like the day he was born. Jameson closes his eyes, sighing out against the glass. He's overgrown and dressed in the clothes of Anti's enemies. He feels like there's a hairball in his throat, the quiet static coming closer as their home becomes visible in the distance.

Marvin is on the couch as Henrik leads JJ through the door. Henrik starts and glances at them, waiting for yelling or disgust on their face. Instead Marvin just gives them a welcoming nod, and immediately focuses intensely on the T.V. Henrik blinks, but then JJ is tapping him to question why they've stopped. He whispers a 'sorry', then leads him to his bedroom.

Henrik walks back into the room and balks at his sibling. "Going to tell me some earth-shattering secret as to why you are not mad at him still?"

Marvin snorts. "Fuck off, doc, it's nothing like that. I just… sort of realised how much of an ass I was being after even Chase scolded me. It's my own fucking issues, I shouldn't put the shit about Jack on the kid's shoulders, is all."

"Wow, my big sibling, actually admitting to their faults. Did I travel to another universe this past week?"

Marvin shoots him a scandalized look and Henrik laughs aloud. He trods to the sofa and plops beside them, snuggling into their shoulder. Marvin hugs him back, and Henrik knocks their heads together softly. "Welcome back to yourself, my friend."

---

Jameson sits among the gold. He's crying, he has been for the past 30 minutes. He brought a beaded bracelet he made with Chase and one of the muffins Henrik brought him yesterday to the grave with him, gifts for his brother. Before the crying began he had wound the bracelet around the stick below the carving. There, now it actually sticks out in his fumbling darkness. He set the muffin by the stick, like an offering to the distant gods.

He brushes his fingers over the carved name over and over as he cries, letting the name fill his head. Anti, Anti, Anti. Brother, master, captor; all of these things at once. He wonders how Anti saw him. Was he a brother? A possession? Does it even matter now that it's over, a long long time ago? Chilled wind slides across his wet cheeks as he cups his hands over his trembling mouth, rocking in the dirt and flowers. He loves him. Jameson doesn't think he'll ever stop loving him. But Anti hurt him badly. The psychiatrist's blunt words roll in his mind over and over. The questions and how broken they made him feel. It's all his brother's fault - his captor's fault. The damage is forever.

Jameson brushes tear-soaked hair out of his face. If he cuts it, he is terrified of looking like Anti's brother again. But don't Jackie and Henrik have similar hair? Wouldn't he look like them, too? Doesn't he just look like Jack, at the end of it? When did this face become so painful? He used to love that Anti dressed like him and cut his hair. He used to love the small similarities that reassured him Anti loves him. He stares through the black at the colourful beads, and finds himself wondering if Anti can see him, wherever he is. If Anti is laughing at how goofy and childish the beads look on a grave. A small laugh bubbles out through his tears. Anti, Anti, Anti, chants his mind. My stupid big brother.

He cries until the sun begins to set, eventually slumping to the ground half asleep, watching the world darken til his vision is useless.

Jackie walks out around 8 p.m. and finds him dozing off. His heart aches, and with guilty hands he lifts JJ to his chest, carrying him back to the house. Jackie puts him into his bed, but cannot bring himself to leave the room. He ends up curled across the foot of the bed as Jameson sleeps.

Jameson wakes while it's still dark, and finds Jackie in the same place. He could see that bright maroon hoodie in any darkness he faced, he thinks. He rolls the quilt and sheets down, tucking them across Jackie's back. With a smile he can't quite place, he gets up to shower and make tea, leaving the hero to get some well-deserved rest.

#teeth au #jacksepticeye #jameson jackson #jacksepticeye fanfic #jse au #jacksepticeye au #writersofjack #writers of jack #henrik von schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #antisepticeye

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