The Wilford And Jj Fic You Reblogged Inspired Me So How About "if Anything Happened To You..." With Marvin

Whumptober 2021 - Alt.5 Forgotten

Egos lived for decades. But some day the videos stop, the powers leave and everyone fades away.

Words: 1584

(We’re done!)

—

There was only one way for Egos to truly die in their realm. Granted, if the powers involved in your death were great enough it could stay permanent but the only ones subjecting themselves to that danger were Egos with enough power to ensure their survival. And then the only thing left was life. Bruises healed, with the right support you could be pulled away from death itself and the Egos went about life mainly unbothered by the entire concept of decease. But that didn’t mean that Egos couldn’t die. Every Ego, no matter how powerful or confident, feared the painful inevitability of Fading.

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I was bored so I started playing around with Mark and Jack’s eye colors. I think these turned out okay for a first try! ^^”

36 with PM?

“Poor little puppet...You’ve lost your way. In this world, it’s so hard for fools to think for themselves, isn’t it?” Puppetmaster crooned as he wound the pulsing strings around his plaything’s neck. “Why don’t you let Master do all of the thinking for you? My control is so much easier; it’s what you crave. I’ll fill every crevice in that empty head...You’ll be so much happier this way, don’t you think?” With one more tug, it was over. “Yes. You do.”

Story of A P̢u̵p͠p̕e͘t (Regarding Lost Things)

[.... . .-.. .--. / .... . .-.. .--. / .... . .-.. .--.]

Available on AO3!

words: 1921 (written in fake audio-transcript format)

genre: ... spooky-ish Magnus Archives rip-off with some YouTuber Egos? more likely than you think. (no pairing this time.)

summary:

Here's a podcast in which the Host tells the unseen stories of infinite universes to the curious.

These stories are all true. They are not made up by the Host. (Those days are gone.)

Listen closely; you're in for something interesting.

In today's episode: A puppet theater, hidden in plain sight.

notes: this picture has one (1) vague easter egg and one (1) unnecessary greek mythology reference. that's how we roll.

ps: please, for the love of god, read @pxppet's story here! technically, this fantastic piece of writing threw me back into the dynamics of the two characters again, and that's what made it possible for me to publish this one thingie here today. so i owe you, @pxppet, a debt of gratitude for that. thank you so much for your wonderful work. and so, go on, everyone else, read it!

What's Jameson like in the supernatural au? :0

The most I'll let slip about Jameson is that he's been alive for a fairly long time now! He's at the very least a hundred years old yet still looks to be in his mid 20's. He was once a hunter as well until an accident that led to his immortality :)

Just... a p̷u̶p̵p̴e̵t~ (Glitch Warning!)

A friend inspired me to make this.... I planned it to be an animation but now it's an animatic I guess :')

(I kinda fell for evil JJ... ahhhh)

Ok this idea just came to me so bear with me here.

Wilford warfstach

Jameson Jackson

Remus sanders

What do they have in common their mustaches🥸 so if they were to meet they could be…….

✨The Stach Bros✨

Adjusting [Branded AU]

I’m finally writing something for my own AU?!? You better believe it!

A small collection of short stories that encompass some of Jameson and Henrik’s experiences in the time short after Henrik’s rescue. These events are in chronological order, but they don’t all happen in the same day.

———————————————————————————-

Jamie knocked softly on the door to his guest’s room, careful not to startle him. After getting no response, he opened the door slightly and peered in. Henrik was sitting at the desk, staring at his reflection. He caught a glimpse of Jamie in the doorway and turned around, inviting him in with a wave. Jamie pulled over a chair and sat down pulling a device out of his pocket.

“What is that?” Henrik asked, wary of the strange device. Jamie put a hand up to tell him to wait before he flipped the lid on the device up. Three dots appeared on the cover facing Henrik, who watched as they blinked. Jamie tapped away on the other side and words began appearing.

“This is a device I made today that will hopefully aid you in understanding me until I can teach you sign language. Will this suffice?” Jamie looked up at Henrik as he finished. Henrik stared at the machine in wonder, with a hint of fear.

“How did you-” He stuttered. “What is that?”

“Its a mini dual-screen computer I made.”

“You…. What? What is a com-computer?” Jamie looked at Henrik in confusion at the question.

“You don’t know-” He paused and deleted the text.”What year is it to you?”

“1807. Why?”

Jamie looked at Henrik, shock clear on his face.

“How can that be? You’re not a time traveler, are you?”

“What? No? Why would you ask that?”

“You- Henrik, you said you were captured when you were in college, right?”

“Yes, I am 23.”

“No… You’re 225. You were under their control for over two hundred years.”

Henrik’s eyes widened and he looked back at himself in the mirror. “no that cannot be…” His fingers traced his face, ending at his beard. “I guess that explains the facial hair…” He mumbled before turning around again. “But how? Over 200 years? How am I not de-”

Jameson looked at Henrik, his gaze intense and searching. Henrik gulped and nervously looked around before he felt the gaze leave. He looked back and saw Jamie typing away again. “When you attacked me, your eyes were glowing, like magic. Can you do that again?”

Henrik looked confused before he closed his eyes, searching inside himself for something… he wasn’t quite sure what. His memory was still fuzzy, and after a while, he came up empty-handed. Henrik shook his head and looked back at Jamie.

“I still can’t really remember anything… I know I had powers, but I don’t remember what they were. I can’t feel them anymore.”

“They might have been linked to the mask.” Jamie tapped his chin, in thought. “If we can remove the masks, we might be able to save the others…”

“Others?”

“Yes. Since your capture, whoever is doing this has been building an army. I do not know why, or how many there are. About 30 years ago is when the government finally took notice of what was happening. But my parents-” Jamie stopped typing suddenly. He sighed with a sad look on his face. “… knew before then. They tried to help…” Jamie looked at his hands. Henrik noticed that his breathing had gotten more rapid, and reached out. He grabbed Jamie’s hand gently and his heart dropped when Jamie’s head shot up, fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened. But you’re fine now.” Henrik gave him a small smile. Jamie mirrored his smile before going back to his computer.

“Thank you, Henrik.”

— — —

Henrik tapped his pen against his chin, trying to remember anything. Jameson recommended that writing what he remembered down in a journal would help him get his memories back. It did help a little bit, but the only things he could remember were from the last week before he was saved. He let out a huff of frustration and glanced at the clock. 4:29 pm. He grabbed his cane and just as the clock struck half past, he hit it five times on the floor.

Jameson looked up as the five taps sounded, right on time. He pressed a little button under the desk before turning his attention back to his customer, who was looking at the ceiling confused.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Oh, it was just this clock I have up there.” Jameson signed. “It broke a while ago and now sounds half after every hour. I’ll fix it eventually, but customers come first.”

“Interesting clock…” The two of them returned to the task on hand, a small pocket watch that the woman’s partner wanted to be fixed.

A couple of hours later, Jameson flipped the open sign on his door to the closed side and locked the door. He made his way back to the register to count and store the day’s earnings. He glanced at the clock- 7:02 pm. Henrik was late. He pressed the button under the desk three times as an “is everything alright?” After waiting for a few moments without response, he left the cash on a shelf and quickly walked up the stairs. He opened the door to Henrik’s room with a little more force than usual, eyes searching the room. He saw Henrik slumped over at his desk, cane laying on the floor. He could feel his heartbeat in his chest as he quietly walked over and placed a hand on Henrik’s shoulder. At the small touch, Henrik shot up, knocking the chair to the floor and whipping his cane-sword up in a single fluid motion. Jamie jumped back before the sword could cut him, putting his hands up. Henrik’s fear and anger filled expression softened as soon as his eyes focused on Jamie across the room. He immediately put his sword back and searched Jamie.

“I’m sorry, you’re not hurt are you?” Jamie looked himself over before giving a double thumbs up. Henrik let out a breath and placed his cane on the desk. “Thank goodness. Sorry again, I’m just a little jumpy.” He paused and looked around. “Wait why are you up here?”

Jamie pointed at the clock on the wall, which was now at 7:06 pm.

“Oh. I guess I fell asleep.” Henrik rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “But I guess its still a good idea to do this whole thing. We need to keep each other safe after all.” Jameson nodded and made a few motions with his hands. Henrik still didn’t know much sign language, but he could still decipher the message. “Yeah, I’ll try not to fall asleep and worry you like that again.”

— — —

Jameson’s eyes shot open to see darkness. He rolled over and with the press of a small button on his arm, his right eye shut down its visual sensors, turning on a light instead. His room was illuminated by a faint green glow as he looked around, listening.

I know I heard something…. Jameson thought. Henrik isn’t having nightmares again, is he? He slowly stood up and made his way over to the door, not bothering to attach his prosthetic arm. He creaked open the door and looked down the hall. Henrik’s door was slightly open, so Jameson made his way over. He pushed the door open gently and looked around. Henrik wasn’t in bed. There was a crash from downstairs and Jameson jumped. He made his way to the staircase, stepping close to the sides instead of the middle of the steps. This feels familiar… Jamie held what remained of his right arm close to his side as he neared the bottom. His light dimmed slightly as he listened. There was some shuffling from the front room. Please no. They didn’t find me again, did they? He made his way as quietly as possible to the front of his shop and peeked around the corner. A shadowed figure was crouching behind his register, searching through the boxes under the desk. There was a faint blue glow coming from the figure’s face, but his back was turned. Jameson backed up, his heart rate speeding up. No, I thought I was smart about this! How did they find me? How- He took in a quick breath and his light suddenly flared, lighting up the room in a green glow. The figure’s head shot up and turned slowly. Jameson gasped.

Henrik?!

The man was looking at him, blank eyes glowing slightly blue. The two men studied each other for a bit, neither one really sure what to do next. Suddenly, Henrik stood up and strode over to Jameson, grabbing his nightshirt in one hand.

“Where is it, Jameson?” He said, voice blank but intimidating.

“What?” Jameson signed with one hand.

“MY MASK. Where is it?” Jameson opened his mouth but no sound came out. Let me talk to him! He needs to snap out of this! LET ME SPEAK!! Henrik glared at the silent man.

“Useless. A broken puppet.” Henrik released the shirt with force and Jamie stumbled to the side. Henrik began making his way into the shop again. Jameson felt anger flare up in him, not for Henrik, but at his inability to speak. I need to stop him before he finds it. But how? Jameson stood and the movement caught Henrik’s attention again.

“Do you think you can stop me? Do you think you can stop us?” Henrik stood and smirked as Jameson walked over. “You. Are. Broken. There is nothing you can do. Once I’m done here-”

*SLAP*

Henrik’s head shot to the side from Jameson’s powerful slap. He blinked a couple times before he brought his hand up to his face. He glared at Jamie, eyes flashing blue again. “YOU-” *SLAP*

Jameson slapped Henrik again. This time, he stayed looking to the side, blinking slowly, as if he was waking up. When he turned back again, the blue glow was gone from his eyes.

“Jam-Jamie?” Jameson’s expression softened as Henrik looked around, confused. He brought his hand up to his face again, wincing as his cheek stung. “What happened?”

“You were a puppet.” Jamie signed slowly. Henrik studied the movements, deciphering them the best he could. His eyes widened in fear and he backed away.

“What? How? Did I hurt you?”

Jamie shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s you we should be worried about. What do you remember?” Jamie lead Henrik back upstairs and into his room, where he turned on his bedside lamp and returned his eye back to its original function. He grabbed and attached his arm before the two of them sat on his bed.

“I remember… getting ready for bed. That’s when I heard a voice whispering. Telling me to find… something. I tried to push the voice away and sleep, but it just got louder. I had to find it. Silence it. But then, it started laughing. ‘You can’t silence me. You can’t stop me. You will find me. You will…’ You will lose.” Jamie noticed the sudden shift in tone and looked up at Henrik’s face, whose eyes had started glowing again. “You will lose. You cannot stop us. You-”

Jamie jabbed Henrik’s sore cheek with a finger, snapping him out of it again. Henrik looked around confused, blue glow gone.

“Did- Did it happen again? My mind went blank…” Jamie nodded and Henrik’s face dropped. “I can’t stop it. It keeps whispering. That darn mask. Why won’t it just leave me alone?” Henrik put his head in his hands. Jamie rested a gentle hand on Henrik’s back, noticing how he tensed up before relaxing a little. Henrik looked over and Jamie drew his hand back.

“Maybe I can… try to dispose of the mask? Do you think that would help?”

“NO!” Henrik grabbed Jamie’s arm before letting go and putting his hand to his mouth. His eyes flickered blue, filled with fear. “Please, do it. I can’t live like this Jamie.” He mumbled into his hand. Jamie nodded and stood, watching Henrik as he walked to the door. Henrik didn’t meet his gaze, instead holding his hands close. Jamie walked down the hall and lit the fireplace in a side room. He left to grab the mask from its hiding spot and when he came back up the stairs, he saw Henrik tossing his coat into his room. Jamie hid the mask on his other side and gave Henrik a small encouraging smile as he walked into the room again. He closed the door most of the way and made his way to the fireplace, pulling out a pair of fire-resistant tongs. He grabbed the mask with those before slipping it into the fire, keeping his mechanical side away from the fire. Once he made sure the mask was sitting in the middle of the fire, he poked at the logs trying to make the fire bigger. He returned the togs to their place, turned around to grab a seat, and noticed Henrik in the doorway, watching the fire with tired eyes.

“Will that work?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.

“It should melt it once it gets hot enough.” Jamie grabbed a chair and sat down, ignoring Henrik’s raised eyebrow. “Would you like a seat?”

“Probably not a good idea to get me closer to that thing.” Jamie nodded and looked back at the mask before looking at Henrik.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little warm-”

A sudden crack drew Jamie’s attention, and he saw that one of the lenses on the mask had cracked. It cracked again and a piece of glass fell into the flames. There was a noise behind him and Jamie turned to see Henrik on the floor, still leaning against the doorway.

“Henrik?”

“Why does it… hurt…?” His voice shook as he clutched his chest. Jamie stood quickly and went to his side, he pressed his hand to Henrik’s forehead. It was burning up. Henrik groaned, seemingly in pain and Jamie tried to stand up, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. “Don’t take it oUT!” Henrik yelled and fell into Jamie’s arms, shaking.

Henrik!

Jamie looked between the mask, which had begun to melt, and Henrik, shaking in his arms and breathing deeply.

“Don’t take it out! You’re killing h-me! NO! I’ll be fi- AAAGGGGH!!” Henrik’s eyes flashed blue and he desperately clawed at Jamie’s shirt, trying to fight off the tugging of the strings. Jameson froze, not knowing what to do. This scenario, the yelling, the fire, his mind went blank. All he could do was si,t hoping that the man in his arms doesn’t explode. He snapped out of the blankness when the shuddering form below him spoke again.

“Please… make it stop….” Henrik’s scratchy voice faded as his body went limp. Jamie looked down at Henrik, whispering his name frantically. He rolled Henrik over and was relieved when he saw his chest slowly rise and fall. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, but his expression finally calm. Jamie gently moved Henrik into his arms and with only a little effort, lifted him up. As he went to bring him back to his room, he glanced at the fireplace, seeing the last remains of the mask melting into the flames.

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These Thorns Are Rosy

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three days.

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

Whatever curse he’d put on JJ.

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

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

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

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

Three days.

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

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

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

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

“JJ?”

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

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

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

Jameson reeled back. “W-what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be-be quiet!”

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

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

“B͜ec̨au̢se̛ tḩo͞rns ̴mean͡ not͢hin̨g̸ ̶to ̨me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I t͟ȩll̶ ͝you͡ ͟w̸ḩat̵ t͞o do.”

“You…tell me what to do…”

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

“Yǫu͏ ͞d̨o͝ às ͞I ͜s͠ay.”

“I…I do as…as you say…”

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

“Yo̡u ҉ar͘e͟ my̴ ̸ŕos͝e.”

“I am…your rose…”

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

“Y̴o̸u͟r ͘t͠h̨òrns ͘are̶ ̨m͞ìn̸e.”

“My thorns are…yours…”

Green black green black green black greenblackgreenblackgreenblackgreenblackgreenblackgreenblack

“Ý̷͓͔̀Ò̡҉͕̗͚̤U̳̜̼̣͕͟͝ ͏̡̖̮̳͠A͏̱̤͙͖͙R̗̗̼͟E̶̯ ͝͏͓̖̤̘̩͓̳̗͈M̶̜̹̺̻̪̥̟̝I̛͉̖̬̞̜͍̭N̬̳̝͙͞E̴̝̪.҉͎̼̻̲̬͖”

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

“I am yours.”

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

His puppet didn’t even blink.

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

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

Okay so I can’t get this scene out of my head of Schneeplestein giving Jameson a check up to finally find out why his voice doesn’t work, Schneep asking all these questions and JJ having to practically play charades because Schneep doesn’t know BSL. For example, Schneep is asking JJ if he thinks he was just created without a voice and JJ starts to sign, but Schneep interrupts him, “JJ, you know I can’t sign,” and JJ heaves a sigh of frustration and starts to mime answers to Schneep’s questions. Schneep asks if JJ wants to write down his responses, but JJ shakes his head, he thinks this is more entertaining. The whole scene is just Schneep and JJ’s check up shenanigans, and a fun bonding time for the two. <3

…

After a while, Schneep started to narrow down the specifics of his questions.

“Does you voice feel hoarse vhen you try to use it?”

JJ eventually got across that he’s never tried to use it.

Schneep marked something on his clipboard. “Can you try for me?”

JJ shook his head.

Puzzled, Schneep asked, “Vhy not?”

JJ took a shaky breath and pointed to his Adam’s apple. Or, at least where it should be.

Schneeplestein narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to JJ’s throat to get a better view, and sure enough, there was almost no bump where the top of his voice box should protrude. Schneep set down his clipboard and pressed against the spot of the mute ego’s missing Adam’s apple, JJ immediately recoiled and placed a protective hand against his neck. He gazed up at the doctor with furrowed brows and a pained expression, guilt shining in his eyes.

Schneep didn’t need Jameson to do anything for him to understand what happened.

“How long have you known about this?”

JJ averted his gaze, but the flush coloring his cheeks told Schneep all he needed to know.

“I see. Vell, vhy didn’t you vant to tell me about this?”

JJ, poised in his typical impeccable posture, tensed his shoulders and glanced at the clipboard. Schneep, seeing this, gave the clipboard and a pen to JJ.

The mute ego takes the pen and writes his answer in a flowing, beautifully styled cursive.

Before I even knew my name, I knew him. He was the only thing I knew. He was my world. His laugh sent ice down my spine, his voice clawed at my ears, his smile raked across my eyes. He carved into me like I was a pumpkin on Halloween. I can still hear my screams echoing in my head, sometimes I doubt those screams were ever mine. It lasted for an eternity, my God, Hendrik, it lasted forever. But eventually I stopped screaming, I stopped making noise, yet the pain never ceased. I didn’t notice at first, maybe he grew bored of my incessant noise, but he shredded my vocal cords into ribbons and cut my voice box out of my throat. How he was able to take my voice, but not my breath is horrific, but once he did this, he was gone. Then I was gone. Placed in another reality. This reality. That is why I didn’t want to tell you about this. My good friend, I didn’t want you to worry about me more than you already do. It’s done, it can’t be reversed. All my wounds have healed, except this one. There is nothing a good doctor such as yourself can do to make this right. You can’t fix me. I’m happy here, with you and the others. Please, just let me be.

Halfway through writing his note, JJ’s eyes started tearing up and his hand began trembling, nonetheless he finished it and returned the clipboard to Schneeplestein.

As soon as the clipboard left JJ’s hand, he stood up and darted out of the doctor’s office. Schneep, sensing he needed to be left alone, let JJ leave without a word.

The doctor picked up JJ’s note, and as he read deeper into it, anguish crept onto his face.

How had Jameson kept this to himself all this time?

Schneeplestein walked over to the door and peered outside where he saw JJ slumped against the far wall, he could hear a faint noise coming from his direction. Schneep, curious as to what the noise could be, stepped out of his office and started towards JJ. As he grew closer to him, he saw that the soft noise was JJ. He was crying. It was probably the loudest sound JJ had even made in a long time. Quiet, quivering gasps of breath, and trembling shoulders. Upon seeing this, Schneep rushed over to JJ’s side and sat down next to him. JJ didn’t seem to notice. The doctor had never been one to comfort others. That job was always taken by Jack, or Marvin, or JJ. Yet Schneep placed a tender arm around JJ, determined to help him feel better. Though the mute ego’s shoulders relaxed, he was quietly sobbing even harder than before. Schneep opened his mouth to speak.

“Vere you ever going to tell us about this?”

JJ quickly shook his head no and buried his face in his hands. The doctor gave a heartbroken sigh.

“I’m here to support you, okay, JJ?”

Jameson lifted his gaze to meet Schneeplestein’s.

“Ve all are.”

Without warning, JJ wrapped his arms around Schneep in a tight hug. Schneep tensed, not used to being touched, much less hugged. Wanting to console JJ as much as he could, he gingerly returned the gesture.

JJ parted first. His sobbing had gone down considerably to a silent sniffle.

He smiled at Schneeplestein and mouthed two words.

Thank you.

Schneep drew a short breath and gave a small smile back, “Let’s get you home.”