Aww Adorable

Marvin's Cage

Story One l Story Two l Story Three l l Story Four l Story Five

This is part 1 of the sixth story, where Marvin's secret comes to light. Tws for extreme distress, imprisonment, Anti's general creepiness, and mentions of human trafficking.

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you love to hate it. I'll hopefully have the next part fairly soon. But also this is quite long, as a heads up

Okay, here we go...

They stack cards in terse silence, racing through decks, climbing up to Jacks, Queens, Kings. They both grab at a black seven of hearts at the same time and end up slapping at each other's hands, JJ yanking the card back just before his opponent. Anti cackles and keeps flipping cards, waiting for the next one to snatch.

“Peanuts,” signs JJ suddenly, and Anti swears and laughs and starts picking the cards up to re-deal, doling them out in piles, and they're playing again, without a word, stacking decks, up and up and up.

After a few rounds, JJ reaches for a bottle of water at his side, sucking it down and brushing at his sweaty hair. Anti rocks on his thighs, chewing at his nails. “Where's your sweet Big Brother today, child?” he asks.

“Comes and goes,” signs JJ, setting his bottle down and getting a granola bar out of its box for lunch. “Birthday week. Celebrate, family. But he will come see me soon. He loves me because I've been very good.”

He stacks up a fresh set for another game, yawning.

“He ought to let you come play with me in the real world,” purrs Anti, stroking his thumb across JJ's chin. Jameson shivers, but he does not protest. “He's so mean to keep you from me. Now all I get to do is come visit you and play silly games. My warm flesh... don't you know I miss you?”

JJ sorts his cards quietly, avoiding his eye. Anti reaches forward and grips his neck, squeezing gently.

“My warm flesh,” he repeats softly, licking his lips.

Jameson breathes through his mouth as Anti begins to strangle him, keeping calm. The easiest thing is just to get through it. If he talks back or makes Anti angry, then he'll really get hurt, and there will be nothing he can do to stop it. Anti gets up on his knees and crawls into JJ's space, pushing him down onto the floor of his cage. He straddles his waist and increases the pressure on his throat. JJ gazes up at him, still.

“We had such a good time together,” hums Anti, feeling his thready human heartbeat beneath his hands. “Didn't we?”

JJ doesn't remember much good about his time with Anti. He knows the taste of a human heart in his mouth. He was once chained against a wall so tightly he couldn't protest when the rats began to gnaw at him. At one point, he was so delirious and hurt that he believed he was dead for two weeks straight.

That's the good thing about his Brother. Not being allowed to leave this box doesn't matter, and neither do the occasional beatings or possessions Anti causes him, because Brother would never let anything half as horrible as the things Anti used to do to him happen anymore. Brother protects him from Anti – and protects everyone else in the world from Anti using his body.

He shudders at the memory of his teeth clamping down around the beating muscle his hands pulled from a stranger's chest. Blood leaking onto his tongue, warm as it filled his mouth. He was laughing. His fingers dug into soft, squishy organs, the filth filling up his broken nails, and his heart beat like the wing of a hummingbird beneath his ribs, making him dizzy with Anti's sick delight.

Yes. Brother protects him. Brother protects everyone. That's why he's here.

He's just beginning to lose consciousness from the cut-off of his oxygen when something stops Anti.

His head tilts and his ears perk up as he stills, paying attention to something JJ has not sensed yet. His mismatched eyes flicker back and forth as he thinks – and then a wide smile grows on his face.

“Please let go,” signs JJ, squirming.

“Someone... other than Marvin,” Anti mumbles. “Oh, this will be really good.”

JJ stills, blinking. Anti creeps to his feet, gazing through the front of JJ's box from the corner, trying to look without being seen. His eyes light up with a venomous light. He turns his smile towards JJ, eyes gleaming.

He crawls back into JJ's space, tucking a strand of his brother's hair behind his ear. JJ holds still as Anti leans close to him, whispering against his ear:

“Things are going to change for you now, my darling. But I'll see you again soon. I promise. So don't forget about me, child – not even for a moment.”

A cold kiss presses against the side of JJ's head.

Then Anti is gone, leaving only a faint and fading trail of glitching colors behind him.

JJ waits for a few moments, but he's so used to Anti's mannerisms he can't even be unnerved. He sighs, scattering the cards across the floor. Well, if Anti is gone, he'll have to find something else to do.

He reaches for his violin, getting to his feet and stretching a little before setting the bow down. Still, he can't shake a feeling that something in the air has changed for good.

.

Jackie treads on the solid floor of the endless mirror, his head tilted as he listens to the music.

“What the hell is this?” he whispers, creeping forward.

It's certainly not a portal to anywhere, not like it used to be, or at least this isn't the door. Instead there's some kind of box, a shed or a tiny house like on TV or maybe just a really weird puppet theater. The words “JJ's Jolly Jaunts” is spread across the top of the inside layer, behind bars, and it makes Jackie's stomach do a weird, foreboding turn that he doesn't understand.

Something about this is fucked up, that's all he knows. But if it has something to do with his missing brother – well, why wouldn't Marvin tell him? Has he been trying to find him? Is this some freaky memorial to him? Does Marvin think he's dead?

His next footstep lands heavily, echoing a little in the expanse. The music that he thought must have played from a speaker cuts off with a timid release of the violin bow from its strings, and he stops dead in his tracks.

Something is in here.

Someone is in here.

Being alarmed and weirded out, however, is only a catalyst for Jackie's curiosity, and the not-knowing becomes almost unbearable. He races towards the box, setting his tense fingers on the side of the barred window as he looks in.

There are decorations like fairy nights and pinned-up drawings of animals overhead a big red rug and a mattress with blankets and pillows disarrayed on top. A small curtain covers a corner in the back, stuffed animals stack against the wall opposite, and there are tupperware containers and cardboard boxes full of granola bars, dried fruits, cookies, and more. Art supplies scatter across the floor – paper and charcoal and bits of fabric and buttons. Jackie leans a little farther over the sill, his face nearly pressing against the bars around the outside, and he sees homemade puppets among the felt and sewing materials.

“This is fucked,” he mutters, turning to the left. Pressed closer, he can see some cleaning supplies. He turns to the right and –

Jackie rears back with a shout, his heart leaping into a double-time march.

Silence in the mirror realm. Nothing moves.

Deep breaths, Jackie. Deep breaths.

“Jameson?” he whispers, stepping cautiously back towards the cage. “I... is that you?”

It looked like him, for the moment where Jackie's eyes landed on him, a figured pressed against the closest corner of the box, clutching a violin like a shield and staring back at Jackie with wide eyes. But it couldn't be. Why would he be here? None of this makes sense, but the idea that comes closest – of course.

“Not Jameson,” he realizes, face darkening. “Anti. Right? Marvin caught you, didn't he? And he's... trying to get you out of Jameson's skin. Trying to make you let him go. You fucking parasite.”

There's a slight scraping of cloth on wood. Jackie tenses, licking his mouth, and waits for Anti to start laughing and step out to see him.

But nothing moves.

“If you're trying to get me to come closer, you missed your opportunity,” snarls Jackie. “Fuck, I can't believe – why wouldn't he tell me about this? It must have been just the last couple weeks that he caught you, since we fought just before. You've been possessing him this whole time, then, bastard? You're a creep. When I figure this out with Marvin, you'll never touch him again.”

And Jackie waits again, but... nothing.

This isn't like Anti. Not taunting? Not snarling and snapping or teasing Jackie over every failure he's ever been haunted by?

Why the pictures on the wall? Why all the stuffed animals? What the hell is going on?

“Forget you, then,” Jackie scowls. “I need to go talk to Marvin.”

He turns to walk away, back towards the portal, mind racing. He needs to talk to him before he gets more confused.

He touches the portal to leave.

Why the pictures? Turtles and bears and butterflies?

That's not Anti.

It must be.

Why the stuffed animals? A well-loved puppy, ratty with hugs and petting?

Anti wouldn't do that.

It only looks like Jameson because it's Anti. It has to be Anti.

Why any of this? The obvious time that's been spent in that box even though he saw Anti not a month past? The scared look on Anti's face as he hid from Jackie, something he's never done before? The violin music? Does Anti play violin now?

That is not Anti.

But it has to be, so –

“I need to talk to Marvin,” he repeats to himself, heart racing again. “I need...”

Marvin lied to me.

Marvin didn't tell me about this. Hid this. On purpose. Denied all of it a hundred times.

No. That's my little brother. I can trust him.

He lied.

And that –

It's Anti.

It's not Anti.

It has to be.

It isn't.

Looking back at this moment, Jackie will wonder what would have happened if he went through that portal and asked Marvin what was going. What he would have said. If he would have lied, if he would have made excuses. If he would have just been silent.

It doesn't matter now.

He knows that something is not right, and he can't trust Marvin – shit, he's never had that thought before, not once in his life – so he has to figure this out on his own.

He walks back towards that cage in the middle of the endless reflections of himself. In the mirrors, he can see himself walk towards the box from behind – steady, tentative steps, tense shoulders beneath a red jacket, hands in black gloves squeezed into fists. He can see himself from the side, with his mouth parted and his eyes fixed ahead. He can see his own face, looking into his own eyes, looking into the face he shares with his younger brother, the first younger brother he had, the one who made everything else worth having.

As he comes back towards the box, he realizes that whoever is in there must have thought he left like he said he would, because now he hears soft sobbing coming from inside. He hears the moment the violin is set aside with a slight thud, and cloth slides against the wood as the prisoner sits down on the floor. Jackie stands outside, listening, his eyes beginning to burn.

Not Anti. Not Anti. He knows. In his heart, yes – in his heart he already knows.

“Hello?” he calls.

The crying cuts off. Jackie closes his eyes. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Jackie, even if this can't be true.

“Look, Anti,” he says. “If that's you, well. I hate your guts, but I still don't think you should be trapped in a box like this. Nobody should be. Come out and tell me what's going on and we'll figure this out.”

The prisoner doesn't bite.

“Okay,” sighs Jackie. “Um. Listen, I... I'm sorry I yelled. If you're not Anti, please let me know. I'm not going to hurt you. I was just surprised. And scared, I think. I don't know what's going on.”

A soft, shaky breath moves through the air.

“I'm going to come closer now,” says Jackie, straightening up. “I'm going to look at you again. Please don't scratch my eyes out or anything. Okay.”

He leans in for a second time, bringing his head close to the bars.

There he is. The prisoner in the corner. He's sitting down now, arms wrapped around himself. His face is mostly hidden in the knees drawn to his chest, but his eyes –

Big blue eyes look up at Jackie from beneath overgrown, mousy brown curls.

Jackie has never claimed to be good at reading others. He actually tends to miss plenty that other people seem to find obvious in mere expressions and gestures. But this...

No. He could never forget this exact look, these exact eyes. The eyes of the little brother that stared up at him for hours that night so many months ago when he lost him. The eyes that were looking at him when he lost consciousness and woke up to an empty bed and a missing piece of his heart. The fear and the confusion and the hope and the love all at once.

His Jameson.

Jackie bows his head and cries.

For long minutes he's bent over the side of that ledge by the box, one hand clinging to the bars behind which his youngest brother has been kept as a prisoner, and he can't seem to stop no matter how hard he tries. There is no noise from Jameson. Jackie can't look at him again. Can't bear it.

And then the soft brush of something against his hand startles Jackie from his breakdown, and he looks up to find a tissue pressed against his fingers.

JJ has brought him a tissue.

Jackie stares at him and Jameson looks back, ducking his head shyly now, even as he pulls Jackie's fingers around the Kleenex, plucking gently at his hand. Jackie takes the tissue. JJ backs away again, still holding that battered violin to his chest like a shield.

“Thank you,” croaks Jackie.

Jameson nods just a little, eyes fixed on him.

“Do you... remember me?” asks Jackie. “We were... it was so short. Just that night. And you were sick and confused. He'd been possessing you a long time and I just – do you remember at all or...?”

Jameson scoots a little closer, chewing at his nails for a second.

His fingers reach out to touch Jackie's again. Curl around the back of his hand and settle there. Soft.

He nods just a little a second time.

Yeah. He remembers.

“Jameson,” breathes Jackie.

He reaches for his hand in return. Their fingers lock together through the bars.

Laughter bubbles up in the empty coldness of the mirror realm, and after a moment Jackie realizes he is the one he's laughing.

“Yes,” he laughs, squeezing his hands, and JJ looks back at him in awe, letting his violin fall to the side. “Yeah, Jameson, my little brother. You remember me. You're alive! You're here! JJ, JJ... how do I get you out?”

He wants to be holding him. Now. Wants to wrap him up like the kittens Marvin used to sneak into the house and take him back to the world and never let him the fuck out of his sight again.

Jameson glances to the right of his box and Jackie goes racing around the side to find the opening. There's nothing but a half-door carved into the side and this is locked by a padlock with no keyhole. Jackie grabs the chunk of metal, frowning, and there – carved into the back of the metal are sigils that burn with heat even untouched in the coldness.

Magic.

He returns to JJ, taking his hand again.

“I'm going to get you out of here,” he says, and it's so true and so important in his chest that it hurts somehow to get the words out. “I'm here now and I will not let anything more happen to you.”

He wishes JJ would smile or nod or anything like that. But he just stares at Jackie with that big, starry awe in his blue eyes, and squeezes his hand softly, shuffling closer to him, staring. Jackie holds his breath as Jameson leans his head against the bars of his prison so his forehead almost touches Jackie's. He picks up the discarded tissue and presses it against Jackie's reddened cheeks, mouth parting.

Jackie clings to his hands and closes his eyes, letting his little brother brush his tears away.

“Jameson,” he says, just soft, though everything seems loud in the silence, in the emptiness, in the endless cold. “Tell me who did this to you.”

JJ draws away. There is a pause where he looks down at his toys and his animals and his art. His hands wrap around each other. He shrugs his shoulders weakly.

“Tell me,” says Jackie, reaching for him again. “Jamie, my Jamie. Tell me.”

His head already knows, but in his chest –

No.

Jameson chews at his nails for a second, big eyes flashing up to Jackie, and then he turns and points at the picture pinned to the wall above his mattress.

In JJ's charcoals, Marvin is thin and tired, but whoever drew the curve of his sorrowful mouth and detailed the light in his eyes loves him.

Jackie's heart stays steady. His eyes do not burn. His lets out just one more shaking breath.

Very well, then.

“Jameson,” he says. “I will be right back.”

.

“No! No, not even like that.”

“There's no scenario in which this works, Chase.”

“Guys, hear me out!” Chase cries, re-adjusting on the couch between them and snagging popcorn from Marvin's bowl. “Okay, so the earth is round – ”

“Well, he's got that much right,” says Marvin.

“Already better than I was expecting, to be fair,” agrees Henrik.

“The earth is ROUND,” re-iterates Chase, shoving them both. “So theoretically, if I got enough momentum, and there was a path that went all the way around... I could Heely the whole way round the earth.”

“No,” groan his siblings, throwing popcorn at him. “No, that still doesn't – ”

“Haters! Haters, the both of you!”

Marvin's laughing and antagonizing Chase by pushing him with his socked feet, trying to throw him off the couch while Henrik shields the cat from the fighting on the other side of the cushions. They've been talking about stupid shit for so long he's completely lost track of the plot of the movie they're watching, but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters but them. And you know what, he feels good today, feels light and painless for the first time in a long time. For them to actually set aside the time for his birthday... well, that's the only thing he could have asked for. That and some earrings. And food. And a couple other things he wanted. But really the time together is the important stuff.

And here comes Jackie to complete them.

“Good afternoon, my darling, and will you be joining us?” he crows, letting his feet fall into Chase's lap instead of continuing to try and shove him off the couch. “Sit down with us and let's – um, Jackie?”

Why is he standing like that? Too still on the stairs. Wild, bouncy Jackie frozen stiff with his palm spread out against the wall, steadying him like a statue with a weak foundation. In his other hand: his fighting staff, extended and clenched so hard in his fingers that they have gone red with blood.

“Jackie?” asks Chase. All three of them are staring up at him by now, the TV playing loudly in front of them. “Everything okay?”

Jackie blinks at him a couple times, his face blank.

Henrik and Chase look at each other, eyebrows raising. Marvin's eyes are just fixed on their oldest brother. He realizes that his body has gone just as tense as Jackie's, his legs swinging off Chase's lap and setting firmly against the carpeted floor, a hand pressed against the cushion beside him.

Jackie starts shaking his head. Head low, eyes haunted.

“What's the matter?” asks Marvin.

Jackie shakes his head at him. His mouth is taut and his eyes narrow, angry like a wounded dog.

Marvin's throat is dry.

“What's the matter?” he repeats.

“Chase, Henrik,” says Jackie. “Go to Stacy's and stay there til I say you can come home.”

Chase pauses the movie, gaping at Jackie. Beyond the bizarre suddenness of the request, he never calls Schneep 'Henrik.' After a second, he moves to rise, but Henrik reaches across them to grab his arm and pull him back down.

“I don't think we're going anywhere, my friend,” says Henrik softly. “What's going on?”

“'Maybe Marvin can tell you,” Jackie answers.

Marvin can almost feel his own neurons firing. In a second, he has made the decision to lie through his teeth.

Because this isn't happening. He won't let this be happening. Jackie does not know – you've been scared that he does a million times before and they've all been false alarms, don't overreact, this is just some kind of misunderstanding – and he will never know. He will never, never know.

“Jackie, I don't know what's going on,” says Marvin sadly. “Tell us, please.”

“Yeah, Jackie, shit, you're freaking me out,” Chase agrees. “You want me to turn the lights off? You can lie down and – ”

“I'm fine,” says Jackie. “Marvin, you know, you – ”

“I don't know what's going on.”

“I went in your room.”

He laughs. Doesn't know why. “Okay?”

Henrik and Chase just look between him and Jackie. Jackie starts coming down the stairs. Heavy footsteps on the wood.

“Let's go look together.”

Marvin's smiling at his brother, his lip snarling a little.

He nightmared over this moment so many times. Is it really here? He always thought it would make him scared.

It just makes him angry.

Jackie doesn't know shit and it will stay that way. Stupid, naive Jackie. Marvin will lie his way out of this if he has to gaslight Jackie til Chase and Henrik call him crazy.

“There's nothing in there,” he says.

Jackie grabs him by the arm.

“Jackie!” calls Henrik, getting to his feet and setting his hands indignantly on his hips. Marvin wants to laugh again. Schneep is using his big, bad doctor voice, just like he would with any other argument in their house. Like they're fighting over who flooded the sink or whether to keep the kittens Queenie's pregnant with. Like it's just any other day.

There's no inkling in either him or Chase that this is Marvin's apocalypse. Somehow, it makes him feel powerful. Even if Jackie does have some idea of what's going on, only Marvin knows how deep this really goes.

“Don't grab him like that,” Henrik is scolding. “Now tell us what's going on or – ”

“Don't bother, Schneep,” says Marvin, staring right at Jackie. “He's angry. And you know Jackie when he's angry. He doesn't listen to anyone.”

Jackie's ears draw back and his mouth clamps tighter. He's gazing right back at Marvin. Heat like a geyser in his blue eyes.

“Let him drag me, whatever,” Marvin continues. “He'll realize he was wrong with whatever he's talking about later and come sobbing to me for forgiveness. 'Oh, Marvel, I was so mean, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry...'”

Jackie yanks him hard towards the stairs, ignoring Chase and Henrik shouting at them. Marvin lets him march him towards his room, but it's becoming less funny. His eyes burn and it seems difficult to breathe. His heart pounds against his ribs hard enough that Jackie might be able to feel it from his grip on him.

He can see Anti under Jameson's skin in days gone by, signing slowly at him, promising him that he'll regret what he's done. He laughs weakly as Jackie tears open the door of his room and shoves him inside.

“Jackie, don't push him!” shouts Chase, tugging on the back of Jackie's sweatshirt. “Hey, look at me!”

“Tell them what's in the mirror, Marvin.” Jackie advances on him. Marvin tries to move past him, but he won't let him. Pushing him back towards Jamie's mirror. “Tell them.”

“You've lost it, Jackie,” snaps Marvin.

“Jackie, what's gotten into you?” cries Chase. “Leave him alone! Marvin?”

Marvin wants to call to him – baby, it's okay, amata, don't worry – but how is he supposed to say that now, with Jackie pushing him towards that prison he created? In his heart, he wishes Chase would save him.

“Tell them what's in the mirror!” screams Jackie, and he lunges forward as his composure breaks, slamming Marvin into the wall beside the mirror. Marvin shrieks as his brother's hands wrap around his throat and pin him hard to the plaster. One of the cats is yowling in the doorway and Chase and Henrik are both yowling too, grabbing at them and trying to pull Jackie off, but he will not be moved.

“Tell me you're Anti!” Jackie howls. “You're possessing Marvin! Or he's blackmailing you! Tell me, tell me! My little brother! Tell me you didn't do this to him!”

Marvin does not know if he laughs or sobs in that moment.

Jackie throws him hard to the ground when he does not answer, his staff striking the ground beside his head. “You let him out of that cage, Anti! Now!”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” chokes Marvin.

“Jameson's in that mirror,” shouts Jackie, whirling on their younger brothers. “He's locked up like a fucking dog! Like an animal! This isn't Marvin, it's Anti!”

Marvin stares at the ceiling, writhing beneath Jackie's hands as Chase and Henrik back off, asking questions and exclaiming at Jackie as their oldest brother starts to relate what he saw. Marvin can't breathe.

A little box. A box with bars on the front and a magical lock on it. Him just lying all small inside, with his toys and violin and drawings and snacks. Jameson. Jameson.

Jackie knows.

Jackie knows!

A nightmare – it's a nightmare. It's a nightmare!

“Get off!” he screeches, and when Jackie doesn't budge Marvin opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into the hand holding his chin down.

Jackie yelps and draws back. Henrik jerks forward to keep Marvin down, now, clinging to his clothes.

“Marv, Marv,” chants Henrik, holding him carefully. “Hey. If you're in trouble, we'll figure this out. Just let's be calm. And if you're Anti – there's no point to running.”

“But Anti can't get in here,” Chase puts in, frustrated. “You guys know that. Marvin warded the place to hell and he doesn't know where the mirror that comes to our house is.”

“Chase, go check the warding,” orders Jackie. “Anti might have compromised him instead of possessing him. He must have been at it for months. That's why he's been acting so weird. Blackmail or something. I didn't think it was Anti because I thought you would have come to me if he were hurting you!”

No, no, no! Marvin grips at his head, giggling again. This is just a half-truth and their disapproval and fear and distrust is already too much to bear. If they find out the truth – if they know –

He was right, though! He had to do it!

“Come, my brother, up we get,” says Henrik, wrapping an arm gently around his waist. Jackie still looks like he wants to beat the demons out of him, but he lets Henrik handle him. Marvin slinks to his feet with his brother's arm around him and Henrik sits him down on his bed.

“Okay, now, tell us what's been going on,” he murmurs, brushing a few strands of hair from his eyes.

Marvin grips his wrist, dizzied. He doesn't want him to step back. He wants Henrik to stop this from happening.

“Has Anti been talking to you?” Henrik asks in a hush. “What has he done, my dear? You can tell us now. Is Jameson really there?”

His Schneep. He's as feral as a rabid squirrel most of the time, but then, when he needs him, his brother melts into soft touches and a quiet, even voice. Unflappable, reliable, steady Henrik. Marvin cups his chin, staring up at him.

“Don't touch him,” says Jackie darkly, standing posed like a toy boxer behind Henrik. “Don't put a hand on him.”

“The warding is fine,” calls Chase, coming back into the room. “Nothing smudged or anything.”

“Anti may be manipulating him from a distance,” says Henrik. “Threatening and holding things over him. Jameson... did he threaten to hurt him? Marvin, you were trying to protect him, yes?”

Jackie's stance slackens, his fingers loosening around the staff, and Marvin sees the moment where his eyes soften for him. Chase comes close too and stands beside Henrik, rubbing a hand along Marvin's shoulder.

“Breathe, amata,” he says. Sunny, starry Chase. His Chase. “It's gonna be okay, Marv. I promise. What did Anti do? He hurt you, huh?”

Marvin stares up at him, mouth parted. His eyes flicker towards his own figure in the mirror.

He knows JJ is back there. At this time of day, he's probably napping or playing his violin. Anti could even be in there with him now. He can see him now, black eyes and a wicked smile twisting up Jameson's mouth. He'd bite his teeth at Marvin behind the bars of the cage or coo threats and dark promises. He'd leave Jamie bleeding and ill and laugh about it.

He can see Jameson helpless in the middle of everything. Months and months of Jameson's helplessness. Curled up around himself, silent and dead-eyed in the corner, begging for Marvin's attention, scared and crying, playing with his puppets and toys like a two-year-old, writing music for Marvin, praying devout rosaries on his mattress, sleeping the day away. Hollow eyes. A big smile and then nothing on his face. Eating noodles with his hands and looking over new llama-patterned socks like they're a gift from God. Nosebleeds and fevers and coughs, enough to shake his whole chest.

And on the other side of that mirror, on the other side of the helpless intruder and the mad spirit that wears his flesh like an outfit: Marvin's family.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Yes. Yes. He did what he had to do.

For months it has tormented him. Now Jackie knows. Lies won't help. Even this one, this tempting lie being offered to him by his hopeful brothers – the lie that Anti made him do it. They're looking so gently at him, but it's just another web to tangle him up and choke him for months. In the end, it won't protect him.

He did what he had to do.

He will make them see that.

.

JJ sits in his box, chewing his nails down to the bit. He takes a hangnail between his teeth and pulls it til the blood runs down his thumb.

He doesn't know what's going on.

He decides to pick up his violin again, setting the bow down and trying to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out, steady. Marvin always makes him take three deep breaths when he was beginning to freak out. Marvin hates it when he freaks out. So he will be calm. He will breathe – one, two, three – and play his music.

He feels that he can hear Marvin in the movement of his improv. M-Brother. The only person other than Anti he's ever really known.

His voice started out stern and hot and distant. His eyes would flash and he would stand at a distance as though afraid of Jameson biting him. He stayed with him very little and never touched him.

Marvin became scared, later. Jameson remembers the first part of his illness, when he was so sick he could barely stand on his own, but the second half, when he stopped being coherent, is lost to him. The only thing he recalls is the frantic rise of Marvin's voice, thinner and louder as the days went on.

Scared Marvin. Screaming Marvin. Cold Marvin. Comforting Marvin.

Flashes and glimpses. He rarely stays more than an hour.

Jameson plays long, sweet notes across the violin.

My brother protects me. Because I'm dangerous. Because I'm bad. If I'm good, maybe someone will hold me for just a few minutes.

Long, sorrowful notes.

He realizes he has transitioned from improv to the tune he wrote for Marvin's birthday. He lets the long notes pull across the violin. He will play it til it's perfect, so that, when Marvin is finally ready to hear it, it will be so excellent he will have to like it.

He misses a note and re-starts. He draws a rest out too long and restarts. He plays it too lifelessly and restarts. Restart again, again, again, one, two, three. It must be perfect. For Marvin. For his brother. His brother who protects him, and the only person in the whole world whom JJ loves.

He cannot see or hear anything beyond the mirror realm, but a part of him hears when Marvin starts to cry.

.

“I locked Jameson up to keep you safe,” says Marvin. “That's all.”

Large eyes looking back at him. Chase and Henrik exchange looks again, passing thoughts between gazes. Jackie's just staring at him.

Marvin raises his chin and stares back.

The tears are running down his face, but he doesn't sob and he doesn't wheeze and he does not let his expression break.

He did what he had to.

“Keep us safe?” Chase repeats.

“It's not his fault,” says Marvin. “I know that. But Anti uses him as a weapon and there are few few things we can do about that. The two of them are connected – Anti can find him anywhere and Jameson has no defense against that kind of power. He's just a mortal kid. I've been looking for a way to protect him from Anti's interference, or at least stop Anti from being able to locate him, but it's complex magic. In the meantime, I had to keep him away from you. That day he stabbed you...”

Marvin's eyes flicker to Chase's chest. He remembers the dark wound in his shoulder and the ache in his brother's movements for weeks. The fear as the blood poured out and Jackie dragged the thrashing monster off Chase's body and choked him til he passed out.

“I couldn't let that happen again.”

They still don't say anything. A part of him screams at them to speak, begging for anything in reply, but the other half of him is desperate for the quiet. If they tell him how they feel it could break him in half.

“I didn't tell you,” he continues. “And I lied to you about it many times. I'm sorry. I don't know how to express to you how much it has hurt me over the time it's gone on. I know that doesn't make it right, but I want you to know I have always wanted to tell you. But I knew that if I did... you wouldn't agree.”

A faint, thin laugh from Chase. “This is a joke, yeah? Of course we wouldn't agree. How could you think that – ?”

“Because none of you have the guts to make this call,” replies Marvin before he can even finish, voice raising. “Don't you see? You all wanted him to just live here with us, hoping we'd be able to restrain him if Anti came! But that's not realistic. He would have fucking killed you! Jackie, you're too empathetic, Chase can't even kill a spider, and Henrik – ”

Henrik is staring at him, face unreadable. Marvin deflates, shaking his head.

“Henrik didn't deserve to have to make that call, even if he could. I'm older. I was the one with the means to hide him away. I – ”

“This is a lie,” Jackie interrupts him, sudden and loud. “This is a lie.”

Marvin says nothing. Meets his eyes and waits.

“Marvin?” asks Chase. “This isn't true, right?”

Chase – well, his eyes Marvin can't meet.

Chase looks to Henrik and Jackie, mouth open, bewildered.

“My little brother?” he asks in a small voice.

“Boys,” says Henrik, sighing. “Okay, deep breaths. Let's not get worked up. Of course it is not true. Anti is... he still has something over him. Marvin cannot speak freely. He is protecting us I would guess. Anti has made threats, perhaps cast spells or things like this. Forced Marvin to cast spells. Or he has a way to possess him. We must find Anti and deal with him before we can get anywhere.”

Henrik's voice is sure and cool, but Chase and Jackie don't respond to his call to action. Henrik turns firmly back to Marvin and cups his chin, stroking his thumb across his beard. “We will make this right, my brother,” he says. “I promise.”

“You said Anti didn't have Jameson, though,” says Chase, pushing forward. “Anti told you that, the last time you fought.”

“The second to last time we fought,” Jackie corrects. “Yes, he said that he didn't have Jameson. Then I saw him not a month ago. He didn't say anything about Marvin. But... right after that was when Marvin had that encounter with him.”

“Guys,” Marvin offers wearily. “It's not – ”

“Marvin wouldn't do this to our younger brother,” scoffs Henrik. “Locking him away! It's terrible.”

“I've taken care of him,” cries Marvin. “I have, he – ”

“Can I see him?” Chase's voice seems to be fainter with every sentence he speaks. “I never got to meet him, just Anti. We've talked about him for so long.”

“You – you used to help me go out looking for him.” Jackie whirls on Marvin again, eyes burning. “No, tell me this isn't true.”

“He would have killed you,” hisses Marvin, his eyes watering again.

“So that means you caged him like an animal?”

“Marvin can't have done this,” Henrik insists. “Marvin can't have.”

“I don't know what's going on,” says Chase, starting to cry. “Can I please see Jameson?”

“Maybe Jackie's the one possessed,” says Henrik, backing suddenly away from his oldest brother and putting a hand on Marvin's shoulder. “Maybe that's why Marvin is acting this way. Anti will blame him for what he's done to Jameson.”

“He's in a cage in there! When was the last time he's been out of there? How long has it been?”

Jackie's question seems to quiet everyone again. All eyes turn back to Marvin.

“How long what?”

“How long has it been since you let him out of there?” asks Jackie, voice dangerous again. Stance dangerous.

Jackie has never looked dangerous to Marvin before this moment.

Marvin breathes in through his nose, trying to find an answer. He wants to come clean – wants to show how justified he was – but it sounds so cruel when it's said out loud.

“He's been missing for seven months,” says Jackie, voice trembling. “If this is true, what you're saying, then he's been your prisoner for seven months. Right?”

“Yes,” says Marvin softly.

“Marvin. Has he been inside that box this whole time?”

Silence. Silence. Silence.

Jackie turns away from him, breathing thinning out. Chase is just shaking his head. Henrik's still at Marvin's side.

Jackie looks back to them, poised like he's about to pounce.

“Jackie,” warns Henrik, holding a hand out. “It's not true, it – ”

“Just let him out of the box,” whispers Jackie.

Marvin licks his mouth.

Draws a breath.

Shakes his head.

Jackie cocks his head at him, frowning. “What? What was that? Are you saying no?”

The disbelief in the air seems heavy on his shoulders.

Helpless Jameson. Snarling Anti.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Had to.

Has to.

“Yes,” says Marvin. “I said no. Jameson is a threat to you. I won't let him out of the box.”.

Jackie has a grip on Marvin's shirt collar in a flash, shoving him down onto the bed. Henrik yelps and tries to pull him away again, and now Chase is sobbing openly somewhere in the background, and the cat starts to mewl again. Jackie's screaming. Jackie's screaming at him. Jackie's screaming everything Marvin was ever afraid that he would say.

“Like an animal, you locked him up like an animal! You knew I loved him and you took him away from me! You – you knocked me out that night! Fucking traitor! Marvin, Marvin! How could you do this to me?”

Marvin cries against the bed. Jackie slams him back, once, twice.

“Jackie,” Henrik wails, and honest to God Marvin has never heard him that scared.

“How could you do this to him?” Jackie screeches, squeezing his shirt til the buttons below pop. “He didn't deserve it. He was just a victim! You lied to me so many times! I wanted him, you knew how badly I needed him back! You let me think that Anti had him, and then that he was missing from everybody! Do you know how many sex trafficking rings I busted looking for him? How many times I spent my nights under bridges or in drug dens looking for him, trying to make sure everyone was safe?”

“Jackie,” sobs Marvin. “Love, you do all that anyway.”

“But I didn't use to wonder if it would be my baby brother when I found homeless men dead in the streets,” Jackie answers, and it's now that Marvin realizes he's sobbing too. “I didn't use to carry teenagers to the emergency room after they'd overdosed because they just got mixed up with the wrong people, people who should have looked after them, and then spend the rest of the week wondering if anybody would carry my baby brother like that if the same thing was happening to him. I didn't used to clean up trafficking victims and see every one of those bruises and cuts and markings and diseases on his skin too.”

Marvin's crying too hard to breathe. He takes hold of Jackie's sweatshirt and cries, shaking his head up at him.

“I love you,” he manages, choking and sobbing. “I love you, I love you.”

“I searched for him! Cried over him, nightmared about his little body washing up on the beach! That one night I had him, he looked up at me like I made the world spin, just because I showed him a few minutes of kindness. He had just finally in his life gotten some kindness. Why did he deserve this?”

“I love you,” Marvin chants, because what else can he say? Jameson never deserved it. He always knew that. It's just that his brothers also deserved better – deserved to be safe from Anti – and that was all that mattered.

That is still all that matters.

“Let him out of there,” wails Jackie. “Now, now, fucking traitor, let him out!”

But Marvin keeps shaking his head. No. No!

Jackie screams in frustration and draws his arm back. Marvin flinches and jerks his head away.

And in the middle of all the chaos and all the turmoil inside his chest, he thinks that that moment is clear as day to both of them, because they realize at the exact same time that Jackie almost hit him.

Marvin gapes up at him. Jackie still has his fist drawn back.

His big brother almost hit him.

Marvin lies there, breathing thick, wet breaths. Jackie holds that fist up, shocked.

Then his hand lowers, and for just one second, his fingers stroke down Marvin's cheek.

It's bizarre, later, that Marvin knows exactly what Jackie is seeing in that moment – his little brother. His only little brother, back before any of this. Bright green hair and a silly Game Grumps cape. A cat mask and a blue shirt. They go racing through the city causing trouble together and come home laughing like wild. They make Old Fashioneds and drink while they watch comedy specials on Netflix til the sun comes up. Marvin brings his first cat home and they both spoil her rotten, spending hours playing with her or just watching her run on her wheel, til their phones are both full with pictures of her. They cook together, setting the fire on kitchen more than once, and they catch bad guys like real life superheroes, cackling with triumph as they review their victories over sweet wine and take-out. When they get sick, they look after each other, even if they do make fun the whole time. Marvin runs away once and then comes home again, and Jackie squeezes him so tight it actually leaves a couple bruises on him, and Marvin allows himself, for the first time in his life, to be loved.

He promises Jackie he will never run away again when his hair is still bright green, and Jackie hugs him again, and the world is right there – the world is that place where their hands wrap around each other. The world is the syncing of their heartbeats and the vibration of Jackie murmuring his thousandth “I love you” into Marvin's ear, and Marvin giving his first one back.

There was nothing else that mattered.

A young man with green hair and a blue cape. His baby brother, smiling.

Marvin.

Jackie's fingers pull away. The spell breaks.

“Get out of my fucking house,” Jackie whispers, releasing him with shaking fingers.

Marvin shakes his head, letting out a long breath. “What?”

“I said get out,” says Jackie.

His voice is tight, and it trembles just a little, taut with stress, but he forces it calm.

“You've lost it,” says Marvin. “It's... Jackie, it's me. I'm not going anywhere.”

Jackie doesn't look at him anymore. He straightens up, wiping his hand down his face.

“Jackie,” Marvin repeats. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“If you stay here,” says Jackie, voice very low. “I'm going to lock you in the garage with a box of granola bars and a pile of stuffed animals. Then we'll see how 'justified' you were.”

Marvin stares, a faint laugh coughing its way up his throat. He looks to Chase and Henrik, but Henrik seems to have gone numb, just listing between the three of them with his hands held out like he's not sure what to do, and Chase is turned towards the door. His face is scrunched up and furious, and there are hot, swift tears running down his face.

Marvin's heart aches. “My little brother, amata,” he says. “Look, I'll make this right. Just tell Jackie – ”

“I,” says Chase, very clearly. “Am not your brother.”

Even Jackie winces a little. Henrik stares blankly at Chase, unable to register the words.

And Marvin –

Oh, he's been punched in the stomach. He can't get any air in.

“And I think you should get the fuck out,” spits Chase. “Cause I never want to see you again.”

He leans down, scoops up Queenie, and vanishes through the door of Marvin's room.

Marvin might honestly collapse. He's taken back to every time he's gotten so stressed over holding JJ captive that it made him sick, and suddenly, all of those moments seem like a cakewalk, and he knows that he could more easily have lived with the guilt and the crushing weight of what he did for a hundred years more rather than hear Chase say that to him even once.

It leaves him so hollow that he can't seem to think of anything else, and the pain of everything else fades too, like he's reached the max of some limit he didn't know he had and now he'll just be a confused zombie for the rest of his life. Before he knows what he's doing, he's packing a few of his things into a bag. Henrik is gone somewhere, he doesn't know. And Jackie is standing there like a prison guard, in silence.

Marvin's in the entryway of their house in what seems to be a half-second, staring at the mirror that will take him back to the realm of the world. He manages to regain just enough awareness to turn back to Jackie behind him, dizzy.

“Call me in a couple days,” he manages. “Let me know where we're at. I'll find someone to stay with for a little while. But once you talk to JJ and see that I've treated him well, that I loved him – and once you have time to think about why I did what I did – you'll understand.”

Jackie doesn't say anything. He's staring at the wall.

“Promise me,” Marvin chokes. “Promise me you'll call.”

“Fine,” says Jackie quietly.

Marvin turns to the mirror, and then looks back again.

Jackie walks away from him without another word.

Marvin steps through the mirror. He's taken the portal that's closest to Henrik's hospital without thinking, and now he's practically in the middle of the city, standing in an alleyway with a single bag over his shoulder and a crushing weight in his chest. The people are rushing by around him. Everything is loud and bright and bursting, but he can't seem to take any of it in.

“Marvin.”

Just... just this terrible combination of dissociation and debilitating pain.

“Marvin, Marvin.”

Hands cup his face. He blinks and looks up.

Henrik. His Henrik. He followed him through the mirror.

“It's okay, I'll go with you,” promises Henrik, pressing their heads together, a bag of his own packed up on his back. “We'll figure this out. I know it wasn't you, Marvin. I know you wouldn't really do that. We're going to be okay, my poor brother. Here I am, Marvin. Here I am.”

Marvin collapses into his arms and weeps.

This the only way to keep you safe JBM and Jamie

(Mentions of being drugged. Nothing bad happens, I promise, but I felt the need to issue a warning nonetheless.)

“Please, JJ, you have to hide,” Jackie whispered. They were the only ones home, and someone had just broken in. They’d shot out the window, yelling Jackie’s name. A criminal he’d locked up in the past, after revenge. Jackie had locked himself and JJ in Schneep’s lab, but the criminal would find them sooner or later. “There’s a secret room behind a panel in the operating room, okay? Grab a scalpel and go in there.”

“I can’t leave you to fight the man alone! You haven’t got any of your enchanted items, and we’ve a better chance two-to-one.”

“He has a gun! I’m not letting you risk it. I handle this kind of stuff all the time. I’ll be fine, just go hide!”

JJ shook his head. “I’m not going to let you face him alone! You take risks to help others every day, allow someone to take a risk to help you!” Jackie cursed in his mind. JJ wasn’t going to back down. But he had an idea.

“Okay, okay. Let me find some weapons,” he murmured. He could hear crashing outside the door, the criminal still yelling as he tore the house part to find the hero. Jackie stood up and crept to the cabinets. He grabbed a new syringe and very carefully filled it with a sedative. Schneep had showed him how to measure the does properly once, and that knowledge had never been put to use. Until now.

JJ was watching the door. Jackie swallowed the guilt rising up in him. He snuck up behind JJ and stuck the needle in his arm. JJ tried to jerk away, but Jackie held him still. “Jackie, w-what are-”

JJ started to get tired. “I’m sorry, but if you won’t listen…this is the only way to keep you safe. I’m so sorry.” JJ went limp, and his breathing got slow. Jackie dragged him to the secret room, left a scalpel next to him, and closed the panel. He went back into the main room, just as the criminal began trying to force the door open.

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)

Pull, JJ and Anti.

The white noise swirling through his mind punctured his free thoughts, riddling them with…dizziness, confusion. The only thing he could feel clearly was the tingly sensation of magnets, luring him forward into waiting arms that he couldn’t quite distinguish.

Whumptober #31: Prisoner

“This shan’t be the end of me, madcap. I’ll get out.”

Physically, Jameson was unresistant to his bonds. He didn’t flail or sob as Anti stripped his hat, vest and shoes. That blind panic had always been part of the fun, but the Glitch was game for something fresh.

“Is thi͡s͜ th͞e d҉e̡f̕ian̴ce͘ ̕they’ve ̨be̵en t̷ea҉c͞hing ͠you, pu͜ppet͠? Tak͡i̷ng ̢a̴ stan̢ḑ wit̛h pr͜e͞t̀t͏y word͝s?” Grinning, he slid his knife along the underside of Jameson’s jaw, point digging into the soft curve. He flinched just enough. “Go ̀on, then̴, ̢brav̢e b̶òy. Gi͡v̕e ̵y̧o̡u͟r ͠s͢p̵eec̛h.”

“Round and round, it’s always the same.” The hardness of Jameson’s gaze shone with unbid moisture. “No doubt you’ll string me up…violate my body, my mind. But it shan’t last forever. I shall be free again, which is far more than I can say for you, Master. Preying on my weaknesses will never free you of yours.”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

I know it’s Jameson’s birthday but I couldn’t NOT draw Anti for Halloween! This isn’t exactly the finished product but also, I thought this version I did looked really cool haha

Don’t repost or steal

Reblog, reblog, reblog :)

Oh Ja! Mal sehen wie viele Ihre Sprache reden werden und wie viele Google Übersetzer nehmen werden ich frage mich wie viele deutsche hier sind OwO

now that tumblr's banned the english language we should all just start communicating in our native languages, getting to decipher what everything means will be half the fun

rip to the monolingual english speakers though yall will be missed

Curiosity Killed the Cat (Part 2)

Something Dark

Anti throws Marvin onto the ground and the magician flies across the floor, his head knocking into the metal frame of a bed across the room. Marvin has barely a second to breathe before Anti glitches over and grabs him and pulls him up by his shirt. Marvin chokes and weakly grabs at Anti’s arms as the glitch leans in and growls.

“You got some explaining to do, kitten whiskers,” He snarls, his eyes flashing green. Marvin tries to swallow as he chokes out, “I-i haven’t done… a-anything-!”

“Exactly!” Anti shouts, throwing down Marvin again. The magician hits his head against the metal on the bed and his vision goes black for a second. He quickly shakes it off, rubbing his head as Anti draws closer. A quiet mumble behind Marvin has his shoulders tensing and he looks behind him to see Jack shifting in his sleep, a look of pain furrowing his brow. The heart monitor next to the youtuber spikes slightly as another quick exhalation escapes Jack’s mouth.

“Explain to me why he’s n̘̬̂͘ổ̧͖ẗ̛̪͔́ ͇̭̊̐a̙̱̐̀s̗̭̔͑ḷ̗̉̊ḙ͙̀̉e͔̞̓͘p̳̠̅̒,̨̡̈́̽ ͈̱̐̐k̞̭̓̾ị̪̎̿ṫ̩̻́ ̮̝̉͛k̡̗̍͊â̛̘̤ţ̿̔͜!̳̥̀͝"̬͓̋͌ The glitch snarls. Marvin scrambles away from both Jack and Anti as he tries to speak.

“I-i i dunno!” Marvin wheezes, “I-i’m trying the strongest m-magic i can!” A collection of glitches strikes Marvin in the face and his head snaps to the side, throwing his face into the wall. Marvin massages his face with a groan and gasps as he pulls his hand away to reveal blood. A knife sinks itself into the wall behind Marvin, snapping the magician’s attention back to the angry glitch.

“You need to try fucking harder!” Anti screams. “I can’t have him waking up!” The demon’s eyes seem to display a quiet desperation that doesn’t match his enraged expression. Marvin swallows and tries to stagger to his feet, blood dripping from his nose onto the tiles beneath him.

“I’m… doing…what I can…” Marvin rasps, holding his side as it burns from being tossed around. “I don’t know…what you want me to do…”

Marvin’s wrists fly up as Anti yanks on the green strings attached to magician, causing the man to be dragged across the floor, his face scrapping painfully against the tiles. Anti’s scruffed up sneaker cracks against Marvin’s skull as the glitch leans down to his level.

“I want you to do s̢̤̋͠ö̧̙́̄m̪̱̔̎ę͍̄͝t̙͓͒͑h̬͙͒̽i̛͖͍̇n̡̻͛̏g̡̜͑̃!͉̼͋̔"̨̹̈́͋ He barks darkly, digging his heel into Marvin’s head. “Or do i need to kill those pathetic friends of yours to get you working?”

Marvin coughs and looks up at the glitch. But his expression seems almost apathetic to Anti’s threat. Anti bares his fangs and reaches down to grab Marvin’s hair and he yanks it up roughly. Marvin cries out, pin pricks of tears clouding the corner of his vision.

“Or do i need to make you d̥̺̏̚i̧̱͗̕s͉̝̀̽a̹̫̔̆p̤̓̚͜p͙͖̊͝e͖̼̽̈́a͎͉͊̃r̰̖͑͘ ͇͖͐́ä͓̲́̿g͕͕͒̕a̮̦͑͆i̢̯͋̓n͈̣͋̈?̨̟̾̔"͉̻̅̅ ͚̤̊̚ he adds quietly, letting his words sink in slowly. Marvin’s eyes widen as he shakes and curls his hands into fists.

“Y-you can’t… You wouldn’t…” The magician mumbles brokenly.

“Oh but i can,” Anti giggles slightly, “Even with my little host waking up i still have enough power to make you fade in the most painful way possible.” Marvin’s shoulders shake violently as he tries to hide his terror.

“I could then go in and erase you from Jack’s mind… erase you from the fans’ minds… So you could never come back~” Anti whispers with glee, “ Or i could leave just enough of you floating around that you would be around but not enough you could reform…oh that sounds like it would be so much fun~!” Anti laughs madly, throwing Marvin’s head down as he stands up to full height, watching the small magician cower.

“And since you couldn’t do what i needed… I’ll just go get another puppet! I’m sure with JJ’s feeble little powers he could do something.. Maybe I could suck Jackie’s powers and-”

“Stop!” Marvin sobs, rising up on shaking arms. ”Just… stop… please…” He chokes out brokenly.

Anti regards the shameful display with a cold expression.

“Alright, but what will you do now Puppet?’

Marvin grits his teeth. “I… I’ll figure something out… He won’t wake up.. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You better,” The glitch snarls. He then turns heel and starts heading back through the door that leads to whatever room he’s locked the two up in. But before he stalks out, the demon pauses before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out an object. He throws it Marvin’s way.

“See if that’ll help you, kitten,” He calls out as he starts to close the door behind him, “And you better have something figured out soon. I’m not a patient man.” The door slams loudly shut behind the glitch, making Marvin flinch and curl in on himself.

Marvin peeks open his eyes to see what Anti had thrown him. Marvin crawls to the small item, his entire body sore from the beating he just took. Marvin carefully scoops it up and studies it.

It’s a small crocheted doll. With blue buttons eyes. The hair looks like it’s made of dark brown felt. It’s a Jack doll. Just holding it in his hands sends shivers down Marvin’s spine.

What the hell was he supposed to do with this?

Marvin settles his back against Jack’s bed frame as tears threaten to fall from his eyes. He listens to the quiet breathing and gasps from his creator with a heavy heart. He shouldn’t even be doing this. Jack didn’t deserve this. But if he didn’t… everyone would suffer. And he would disappear.

Marvin chokes on a quiet sob at the thought, curling in on himself and hugging the tiny doll to his chest.

His magic wasn’t meant for this. He trained his magic to either dazzle or help people. He never wanted his magic to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to control people.

He could hypnotize people, sure. But he never wanted to. And this was far beyond that now… Anti wanted Jack in a coma. Alive but asleep. Out of the way.

Marvin’s brain struggles to think of a solution. He thinks back to his time of studying magic. Hadn’t he read something similar to this?

A hazy memory swirls in Marvin’s head.

He’s younger, hanging out in the Phantom Dream Emporium after a training session with Phantom himself. The other figment had gone to get them food for a job well done. Leaving Marvin to man the shop while he was gone.

Marvin had gotten curious and decided to leaf through some books lining the book shelves. He felt drawn to the spine of certain book. The color of it was the blackest black Marvin had ever seen, bound with purple trim. There’s a certain hum of energy and power emanating from the book that sets Marvin’s nerves on fire as his fingers brushed against the tome, carefully sliding it from the shelf. The cover is blank, the pages yellowed by time and dog eared. Carefully Marvin pries the book open, almost with difficulty.

As Marvin skims through the pages, time seems to still. Marvin’s brain is on overdrive, trying to process as much information as he can from the book. Something inside him is screaming at him that this is wrong. He shouldn’t be reading this. But, there’s so much to learn from this. So much he had never known. Magic he hadn’t realized existed-

Suddenly the book is being pried away from him and Marvin cries out in protest. Phantom’s usual dark eyes spark with crimson fire as he glares at the young magician. Marvin swallows.

“You shouldn’t be reading this Marvin,” Phantom scolds quietly. He slams the book shut and slides it back into place.

“Why not?” Marvin bites back. “You’re teaching me magic, and that has magic i’ve never even heard of!”

Phantom purses his lips and growls slightly, “You aren’t powerful enough to use this magic. Nor is it suited for you.” Phantom shakes his head and loops his arm around the cat masked boy, putting on a dazzling smile. “C’mon kid-”

Marvin’s eyes shoot open as the memory fades. Sweat drips down his face. That book… he remembers some of the spells.

He knows what he can use now.

The magician swallows as he looks down at the doll Anti gave him. Who knew this would actually help him…. But he needs something else.

Marvin stands up on shaking legs and makes his way to the head of Jack’s bed. The youtuber is still sleeping quite restlessly, his eyes moving rapidly under his eyelids. Marvin feels numb for a second as he stares at Jack. His creator was never going to forgive him for this.

The boy swallows and reaches out, quickly taking some of Jack’s locks in his hand and yanking. Jack whimpers slightly as Marvin pulls a chunk of hair away from his head. Marvin takes the hair and stuffs it within the holes that make up the doll’s body.

Marvin then cradles the tiny doll in his hands, slowly concentrating on filling its body with his magic. He shuts his eyes, trying to think of Jack in his mind. Marvin’s fingertips feel like they’re being filled with electricity as he opens his eyes back up. He sees a small green glowing ball rising out of the doll and it floats gently above where its heart would be. The neon green color of the orb sets Marvin’s heart racing, the color too similar to Anti’s. Then he realizes it’s softer, bright but not blinding.

A gasp from behind him has Marvin turning around rapidly. Jack’s eyes have opened but they’re glowing the same soft green as the orb from his doll. A green light echoes the color on his chest. Marvin swallows and shakily turns his attention back to the doll.

Marvin reaches out and carefully takes the ball in his hand. Immediately Marvin hears Jack’s voice. His loud energetic cadence fills Marvin with warmth. His laughter echoes in Marvin’s ears and he smiles slightly. But Marvin quickly shakes off the smile, a serious frown taking its place. Marvin grips the orb and starts to push it back into the doll. He struggles to push it back however, the orb resisting the path. Marvin grits his teeth, his eyes flowing blue with power as he presses harder. The voice from the orb starts to change into something less pleasant.

Still the orb refuses to move. Marvin’s magic starts to fade from green blue to slightly purplish as Marvin forces it down with all his might. Suddenly Jack’s voice is screaming in Marvin’s head as the orb starts to disappear from the surface and dissolves back into the doll. The heart monitor beside Jack starts rapidly beeping in distress as the irishman grits and cries out in pain. Marvin shoves the orb down forcefully. A burst of purple magic rockets from the space, sending the doll flying out of Marvin’s hands.

The heart monitor’s sirens cut off. Jack quiets, his head slumping limping on his pillow, his eyes shut once again. His breathing is so quiet now, almost as if he’s not breathing at all. But the heart monitor continues its beeping, even though the heart rate is frighteningly low.

Marvin tries to catch his breath, his fingers alight with magic still. They feel like they’re burning. Marvin swallows, his arms shaking. He slowly turns around and looks down at Jack, wondering if his spell worked. Gently, Marvin brushes his fingers against his creator’s forehead.

Suddenly, Marvin can see what he seems to know is inside Jack’s head. It’s dark and silent. Expect for a slight noise. Marvin recognizes it though. He’d know that deranged glitching laughter anywhere.

The magician draws his hand away, guilt burning painfully in his stomach. Then his stomach actually begins to burn, the sudden change unbearable. Marvin cries out, his knees cracking against the tile as he whole body seems to be alight with a terrifying pain. Like the magic flowing through his veins had turned to liquid fire. Marvin shakily looks at his hand, trying to understand what could be happening. He sees his veins seem to glow a sinister looking purple under his skin.

The edges of Marvin’s vision is turning that same purple as well. The feeling of his chaotic untapped magic seems to capture Marvin in its grasp. The swirling essence claws around Marvin’s throat. Mavrin chokes, unable to breathe as he clumsily grasps his hands against his neck, his scar burning. Marvin feels like he’s being swallowed whole by this strange power as his vision tunnels, everything being tinted dark purple as his vision fades.

A strange strangled laugh is the last thing Marvin hears as his eyes begin to roll up into the back of his head, his body shutting down from the pain. Marvin’s blood runs cold as he realizes the laughter sounds like it came from him. Then he hits the ground with a sickening crack and everything falls silent.

18 JJ

Mind Control

“Jameson,” Chase implored,his voice strangled by pain, trembling as he backed farther into the corner andheld his hands up placatingly. “Please…Please, I know you don’t want to dothis! You’re not this, you’re not—You don’t belong to him!”

The other Ego’s mouthwas moving, but Jameson didn’t hear a word he said. Under any othercircumstances he would have easily read his lips, but his view distorted by therhythmic, pulsing light in his peripheral vision and his mind could barely processanything beyond his immediate thoughts. No, not his thoughts—they weren’t hisown. On a subconscious level he knew that, but they never stopped, raining downon top of him like a pile of falling leaves. The larger the pile grew, the morehe believed them.

“Th͘is̷ is ̵al̴l y͢ou̢ wa͝nt. You areno҉thin̶g̶ b͜ut ͢m͘y ͠p̴u͞p̶pe̡t; that’s al͢l you ȩve̶r ͜w̢ant̴ed͡ t̨o ̷b҉ȩ.”

He barely rememberedwhat had come before. There were stripes of bruising on his wrists and ankles,as if he had been restrained, but why would he ever need to be? His master sethim free.

“Yo͝ur ȩve͞r̷y ̶t̢hought ͜belongs ͢to m͡e̴. Everych̡oi̷çe͟ ͟you͜ ̡make b̷elong͜s to m͜e. E̢v̶e̵ŗy̡ ͢impu̕lse, e͜v̴ȩr̡y ͝e̢motion,is formed to ҉ple͝ase ͟me̡. Yoù ͝b̛òw ̨t͢o a̴l̴l͡ of my w͘h̢i̛ms.”

His master’s glory had beenblinding, so vivid and so beautiful that he couldn’t stand to look away. Thelonger he stared longingly after it, the closer it came. It felt like aneternity had passed, sapping his strength and will, but he had persisted. Hewas so tantalizingly close—

His kind master hadmercy on him. With one word, the Glitch had let it envelop him, drowning Jamesonin a hurricane of static. It was hot, almost painful—like scalding bathwaterpoured over him in one long rush, but it had left everything in him tinglingwith relaxed, steamy, stimulating bliss. He hadbowed to him, inclining his head, and the clawed hand that slid through hishair felt like it belonged there.

He could still feelthat hand there now, unseen, petting him approvingly as he adjusted his grip onthe gun in his hands.

“Véry, ver͢y̧ ̵goo͞d͠, little p͟u͜p̷pe̷t…This̨ ͜ise̕x͡a̡ct̕ly̢ ̢wha̷t ͝I al͝waỳs w̡an͡t͘ęd ͜fo̢r̢ y̡o͟u! E͞ve̢r̛yt̀hi͜n̵g̶ youdo f̀or̛ me̷ ̢mak̴e͞s̵ ͜you f͢eel ͢g̨o̡od, d̷oes͝n'̕t ̡it̡?”

“It does…yes…”he slurred in return, unable to suppress a contented smile as he tilted hishead back against his master’s fingers. “EverythingI do, I do for you…”

“What?” Chase whisperedhoarsely, surging forward half a step and then flinching back just as quicklyas the younger Ego centered the gun at his chest. “No—no, whatever he’s tellingyou, it’s not true! Jameson! Can’t you—Don’t you recognize me?!”

“W̢el͜l, ͡t҉hen! Al̷l you ne̕ed͞ t͝ǫ ̷do ͝fo͞r meno̴w̢ is p̛u͢l͞l͜ t̀ha͏t ̢tr̴i͢gger…Pu͡ll t̴hat ͜t̢r̵iggęr an͜d I’ll b́ev̷e͠ry ̛plea̛se̕d wi̷t̨h͝ ͜y̷ou. You̢'͝ll͞ b̴e a̸ll̢ m̧i͠ne…m͡y̵ J͠ęm̵.”

some darkpuppet angst

I haven’t written angst in a while. Let’s see if I can break hearts as well as I used to. 

~`~`~

Anti laughed. An ear-splitting glitchy laugh. “W̟̌h͙̤͊̓a͓͑t̖̉’s̰̜̎͑ ̠̪͘͝wr̖͑ǒ̫ṋ̉ǧ̥ D̨̻͆̈a̖͒r͋͢k̬̋y?”

Dark groaned and wiped blood from his lip. Was it blood? He doubted he was human enough to have it.

“Give him back!” he yelled.

“W͉͘ho?͓̞̂̐ ͈̜̐͞My ̥͐p͍͝u̥̦͆͋ṕ̖̬͊pe̅͢t͚̄?̟̥́͂ M̩̈y̻̠͒̐ ̙͂being̳̏ ̰̬̍̈t̩̒h̩͐ẽ̖͊͜ ̨́key̮̿ ̟̐ẁ̺o̩̚rǩ͚͔̽ẽ̻r ̫̼̌͐D̖̜̅͐a͔͛r̗͆k͔͊!” Anti paced in front of the other man. 

Dark groaned and tried to get off the floor of the void. “He doesn't belong to you!”

“A̡͝n̥̓d͖̦̂̆ ̙͘h̥̭̋͞e ̠̈b̖̾̕͟elơ͕ng̬͓̀͗s͇̮͛̚ tȍ̹̫̆ ̥̋͋ͅy̳͗ǒ̤̑͜u̩͡?”

Dark shook his head. “He belongs to himself.”

“B̩̋ū͟t͇̽ ̭͌y̭̹̽͞ǫ͖̽͛u̟͓͊̓ ̭́ŵ̼ã̧n̼̓t͎̘̉̚ h̲̍ĭ̘m̱̋.” Anti squatted in front of Dark. “Yȯ͔͎͘u̮̻͝͠’͓͝r̮̾e͍̍ ̝̜̽͞i̪̚n ̟̻̇̐ḽ̙̎̕ỏ͉v̠̭̆̃ĕ̼͆ͅ.”

Dark grabbed Antis neck and pushed him against the ground. “Shut up!”

Anti gasped and clawed at Darks arm. “W̱͛h̡̯̔͞at͓͠ i͋͟f̜͗ ̛͚̘̅İ͎ ͉̼́͘to̫͞l͓̯͛͒d̢͙̔̅ y̙̋ou,” he struggled to speak, “t̖͉̍̈́ơ͍ĺ̼̺̣͋̕d̫̘͈̒̂͑ ̺͈̚͡ẙ̱̘͐o͈̰̔͐u̬̕ ̱̽t͇̔h̲͂a̹̖̻͆̓̚t ̞̬̈͂̓͟I̛͓̿͢ ḑ̳̯͂̕̕ȋ̼̼̣̉̍dn̖̟̪̄͛̍'̳̻̎̋̎ͅt̞͊ ̥̟͙̍̊̍t̡̟̍̔ȃ̲k̨̦̲̆̿͡ȩ̻̀̄ ̘̃h͕͙̟͊̾̚i̻͚̣̿̍̆m̠͉̍͌.̹̠̫̄͡͠”

Dark blinked and loosened his grip. “H̯̖̞̊̓̋ĕ̡̺̓ ̪̌c̜̬̈́͌á̦͍̏m̯̾ë̫͈̏ b͊͢á̖̤͘c̠̃̈͟k͉̍ ̳̣̻̐̎̆to͖͘ ͔͉͍̽̅̍m̢̙̪̂̽́ḛ̌,” Anti spat out.

Dark moved to grab Anti again but was stopped when a shock went through him. He let out a scream and fell off of Anti. 

Anti hopped up off the ground and kicked Dark over, stepping on his shoulder to keep him on the ground. Anti turned behind him and grinned. “S̳̅p̣̫̂̇ea̩͂k̨͈͋͊in̨͞g of̮̾ ̝̌t̜͑ḧ̡è̠̫͆ p͓̣̎̒ȗ͎p͛͜pe͊͟ṭ͍̔̐.̢̠̅̈́”

Jameson stood in the void holding a taser. “C̨͍͍̣̉͛̉͞o͍͂̕͜m̡͉̥̿̒̃ȩ̹̄͞ ̼̽̎͢o̗̬̊͡ṇ̃ ̭̼̀̕͝ͅọ̓v̨͔̻̟̈́͊̈͆ḙ̒͂͢r͔̊,” Anti called. 

Jameson slowly walked over, stumbling as if his movements weren’t his own. When he was close enough Dark could see his eyes. They were unfocused and misty. More green than the blue he had grown so familiar with. Dark pushed against Anti, rage renewed in his eyes. 

Anti chuckled and forced him back down. “Ć͎̳̆o̥͘m̙͌ė̩ h͈͂ė͕̟͗r̝̱̒̿e̳̾ ̹͑p͇̂eẗ̤́̋͟.” 

Jameson took a jerky step forward. Anti sighed and pulled him the rest of the way. “Ǐ̻ ͇̀s͎͑t͓́il̼͒l͙̃ ̯̍ḣ̲ad ̺͑e͖͡nough ̘́i̻̒n̬̒flu͇̍e̘͒nc̦͑e̪͐ ̤̚o̲̅n h̖̀i͓̕m̮͐ ͕̑tǭ ̭͒ǵ̭et̪͛ ̟̆h̬̋ỉ͈m̠͐ ̪͌ho͖̔m̒͟e.” He turned to Dark and grinned. He turned back to the mute and kissed him quickly. 

Dark growled and grabbed at Anti’s leg. “Ỷ̹er̺̼̿͝ ̚ͅp̛̯̩̓̕͜i̠͉̠̝͂͗̇͗̓͜ṯ̇i̟͞f̰̋ū͚l̯̭̣̥̍͛̄̂,” Anti hissed

Anti stepped off of Dark and pulled Jameson away. Jameson blinked and struggled against Anti. Eyes now wide and back to their normal colour. Eyes now full of fear. 

Dark jumped up and reached for him. Jameson reached back but was glitched away with Anti. 

Dark cursed and looked around the now empty void. His aura cracked behind him just as his heart did.