Latest Posts by dapper-puppet - Page 7

OH SHOOT BEE'S TAKING PROMPTS UMMM Okay yknow how I love JJ and Marvin, so maybe something with the two of them and 8. “I’m never letting you go” from the drabble prompts? I love all these AUs BUT I'm gonna ask for the Graceling AU cause I really like those books and also I'm interested to see what you do with it ^-^

Graceling AU: Based on the Graceling books by Kristin Cashore. Eleven-year-old Jameson lives with his half-brother Anti, a supernaturally beautiful person called a Monster who has spent his life hiding from or destroying anyone who would try to hurt him. While wandering the fields one day, Jameson discovers another Monster named Marvin being held captive in a nearby keep and befriends him.

Tws for implied rape and mentions of past child abuse. Please be aware that the Graceling AU is a little more mature than my usual fics (nothing remotely graphic, it's from the POV of a sheltered eleven-year-old, but lots of implied, messed up stuff having to do with Monsters). No pressure to anyone who is uncomfortable with any of that <3

This is super late because I originally had this whole huge story in mind but it was too big of an idea to handle. So I just wrote a snippet. Thank you Ninja!! Okay, have at it and thanks for reading.

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He chases crickets in the weeds and swaying grass by the apple trees, leaping after them and trying to snatch them up with his hands, scraping his knees and scratching his calves as he pounces. Most get away. One he does manage to catch, and this he scoops up in proud hands and turns as if to display the prize to the nearest adult – but no one else is there with him.

Jameson deflates, releasing the cricket back into the grass. The garden around him is quiet but for the bugs and the wind. Marvin has not come.

For days now, he has waited for the Monster in the castle across the field to come find him as he usually does, slipping away from his master's grasp to come play with Jameson. Jameson has become accustomed to running over to the keep after he finishes his lessons to visit the Monster, but for three days now, there has been no sign of Marvin.

He stares up at the castle, scraping absent-mindedly at his scratchy calves and ankles. Marvin has not come to see him. There must be a reason. He intends to find out.

Jameson shoots a glare back at Anti's keep on the other side of the fields, now just a toy in appearance. Anti wants to keep treating him like a baby? Well, he isn't. He is eleven now and he can handle himself.

And if he wants to sneak into another person's castle, he can handle that himself too. He's done it with Anti plenty of time before.

He's shoving open the big door to the servant's quarters a minute later, darting down the hall and only stopping to listen for footsteps. There's people in the kitchen, talking as they cook something that smells tasty – he pauses to grab a strawberry off the cutting board – but nobody's going to pay mind to a little kid racing along the hallway in the middle of the day. There's probably servant kids, pages, and everybody's miscellaneous children running around here all the time. As Anti always tells him, the most important thing is to act like you belong, and in most cases, everyone else will believe it. In theory, the only problem is that he can't ask anybody where Marvin stays, but luckily for Jameson, Marvin has waved to him from his window before coming down to meet him more than once, and he's confident he can find the way to his room. He gives a bow to an old man hobbling down the hall and bounces up the stairs, licking sticky strawberry juice off his chin.

The corridor is quiet, but that's how things are in his home too. JJ slides towards the second door – nope, empty. Third door? No. Fourth door – found it.

He would recognize Marvin's blue hair from anywhere. He's asleep in a huge white bed, bundled up to his nose, his eyes closed. Jameson beams and shuts the door behind him, padding towards him.

But up close, Marvin looks... bad.

Jamie whistles softly, deflating as he creeps up to the side of his bed and Marvin does not so much as stir. He clicks his tongue for attention, reaching gently out to tug on the blankets. Marvin shifts, face scrunching up in pain, and his eyes slide wearily open – or at least the right one does. The left is swollen closed.

“JJ,” gasps Marvin, sitting up and then groaning and shaking his head, pulling the blankets close around him again as he lies back down. “What are you doing here? JJ, go home, now! You can't be here.”

Jameson reaches out to touch Marvin's neck tenderly, his fingers tracing a line of bruises locked around his throat. Marvin flinches back and pushes his hand away.

“JJ, please go home.”

Jameson shakes his head, struggling to get onto the bed beside him. Marvin sighs in exasperation, but he helps pull him up, staring at him the whole time.

“How did you even get in here?”

“Worried,” signs Jameson. “Sad. You're hurt...”

Marvin never had a chance to learn sign, but he often gets the gist if Jameson is slow. The big frown on his face is probably a good hint too. Marvin sighs again and shakes his head at him, reaching out to stroke his hair from his eyes. Jameson throws his arms around him, squishing their faces together as he hugs him.

“JJ... oh, sweetheart.”

Marvin's voice breaks suddenly and his breath hitches. He pulls away from Jameson and covers his eyes, coughing and drawing shaky breaths.

“Who, who?” signs Jameson, tugging at his hands. “Hurt. Punch. Grab.”

“JJ, go home. When I feel a little better, I'll come see you again. I've been thinking about you everyday, wishing I could get up to visit you. But I'm going to be just fine. Go home to your brother, sugar.”

“Who?” insists JJ, hugging him again between words. “Who?”

The anger is boiling up in him now. He wipes at his own face, sniffling as he feels tears building. Someone hurt him. His friend. A Monster like Anti. Is this what Anti means, when he talks about how people hurt Monsters just because they're pretty? Marvin is, definitely. Even beat up and pale, he's so pretty. JJ hugs him again and hides in his shoulder. Marvin grips him back, air shuddering out of him as he tries not to cry.

JJ has never seen him cry. Not even when he talked about wanting to go home to his family or being stolen from his home. Marvin does not cry.

He'll kill whoever did this to him. He'll put a knife in them like Anti taught him to do. He draws back, crying, and pets Marvin's hair like Anti does for him when he feels bad.

“You're just a little boy still,” whispers Marvin, pushing at his hair in return. “Too little to have to worry about me. I'm okay, JJ, I promise. I'm going to be just fine.”

JJ wipes tears from his eyes and nods. He squirms forward to snuggle under the covers with Marvin, but his friend pushes him quickly back. “Sweetheart, I'm naked. And I think these sheets are... well, let's just stay above the covers. Here. I'll go get dressed. Close your eyes.”

Jameson scoots back against the headboard and covers his eyes. He hears a slow shifting of blankets and then, with a groan, Marvin's feet press against the cold stone floor.

Marvin sits there, half out of bed, for so long that Jameson almost peeks. But eventually, he hears him rise to stand. He must stop to breathe for a second. Then he limps across the room to his closet and disappears inside.

Jameson wraps his arms around himself, waiting for him to come back. He always knew Marvin was being kept here against his will – Anti has explained to him that sometimes Monsters are held like that and have to find ways to escape, which is why sometimes killing people is okay – but hurting him like this? Why? He doesn't deserve it. Any of it.

He doesn't get why people would be mean to Monsters. Even if someone just thinks they're pretty, wouldn't that mean you would be even nicer? And try to make them your boyfriend or girlfriend, maybe? For him, Anti's Monstrosity is the only thing he's ever known. And every story he hears about Monsters being attacked or kidnapped, every mark he sees on Marvin's body – they could just as easily be his Anti.

Worse, he knows what it's like to have someone leave bruises on you like that. It's mean and it's scary. Even if it's your daddy it's scary. Anti saved him and no one has left a bruise on him since, cause Anti knows about bruises too. He wonders if somebody ever beat Anti like this. Beat him up and left him in bed.

He squeezes his eyes shut and his fists together. That's why he has to protect him. Anti and Marvin too. He's not too little. He can fight. He won't let anything happen to them again.

“Don't cry, sugar, don't cry.”

Marvin has come back to wrap his arms around him, scooping him into his lap and sitting down on the bed with him, lying back as he rocks him. “I'm sorry, darling. Please don't worry about me.”

JJ sobs into his shirt, gripping his little fists in the cloth. He hugs Marvin and cries. Marvin rocks him against his chest, murmuring to him and stroking his hair.

“You can stay for a little while, okay, honey? I'm glad to see you again. I've really missed you. You know you're about the only comfort I have. But you have to go before the sun starts getting low. That's when he comes back.”

Jameson shakes his head vehemently. No. He's not going.

“JJ...”

“Hurt all over?”

“I'm okay, JJ. I am. I don't want you to worry.”

“Run away!”

“No. No. I won't let you get in trouble trying to get me out of here. I'll find my own way home. You know that. You're just a little boy, JJ.”

But Jameson's not having it. He heaves himself off the bed and grabs Marvin's arm, trying to tug him along with him. They'll go back home and he'll make Anti see that Marvin is nice and deserves to be helped.

“JJ, I can't – ow, hey, honey, please – ”

Jameson drops his arm quickly, flushing with guilt. Marvin winces and grips at his shoulder, smiling weakly at him.

“Hurt all over...”

“Just a little sore, JJ. I'm just a little sore.”

“Why? Why hurt?”

“You'll understand when you're older, my dear. For now, you should be glad to be a kid. Okay? It's good that you don't have to know. I can take care of myself.”

Marvin pulls him gingerly back onto the bed with him and lies back against the headboard. JJ stays sitting up, gazing at the bruises on his neck and face. He wants to take care of him. He reaches out helplessly, then lets his hand drop again. He can't... he can't do anything. Marvin's right. He's just a kid.

“Don't cry, JJ,” murmurs Marvin yet again. “Tell you what, how about you draw something for me. Yeah?”

He pulls parchment and a pen from the drawer beside his bed, pulling JJ back to his lap and setting the paper in front of him. “Like we do in the garden.”

“What draw?”

“Whatever you want.” Marvin pets his hair. “Something happy.”

JJ sniffles, gripping the paper in his hands. It takes a long time before he's ready to draw anything. But Marvin's hand is nice in his hair, and the room is warm and cozy, and he wants to do something for Marvin, no matter how little.

He draws people shakily onto the page, snuggled up with Marvin on the bed. Eventually he gets lost in it.

“You remind me so much of my younger brother,” mumbles Marvin sleepily, still playing with his hair. “You even look like him when he was your age. Course, he talked non-stop – still does, sometimes. But he's a sweet kid like you. I'm so glad you're here.”

JJ snuggles against his chest, drawing himself and Marvin in the garden. He's old enough now that there's detail in the trees and flowers. When he's done, he presents it to Marvin, who smiles at him.

He really is beautiful. JJ stares at him, latching his arms around his neck. He has soft blue hair, summer ocean color, and eyes even deeper blue – wildly blue, unnaturally blue. He is not as ivory-pale as Anti is, but other than the terrible bruises, his skin is clear and flawless. There's glittering jewelry in his ears. He seems to glow from an internal, otherworldly light.

How can anybody hurt him?

He hugs him again and Marvin rubs his back in slow circles, pressing their heads together.

“It's time for you to go,” he whispers.

JJ shakes his head no.

“You have to, JJ. Trust me. I wish you could stay too. But if he finds you here... I don't know what he would do.”

JJ just clings to him. Marvin sighs, pushing him slightly back to cup his face. His cheeks still have a little baby fat in them. It makes him smile.

“My friend,” says Marvin softly. “Go home to your brother.”

JJ reaches down to grab his drawing. He sets the pen to paper again and leaves Marvin a message against the empty sky of the drawing:

I am never letting you go. Come home with me.

Marvin smiles at him. “You are a very good young man. And I know you're not to be messed with.”

JJ nods severely. No, he isn't.

“But this isn't something I want you to get tangled up with. Even if you were a grown-up, I'm not sure I would want you involved. JJ, don't you understand that you do plenty for me just by being with me? Being kind to me and drawing me things and hugging me when I'm sad?”

JJ wipes at his runny nose, mouth trembling. He wants to do more, though.

“Go home to your brother,” repeats Marvin. “And tomorrow, if everything goes well, I'll see you in the garden. Okay?”

Jameson stares at the floor, eyes burning.

“I'll get in trouble if I try to run,” says Marvin. “Or if he finds you here. So go, alright? For me?”

Jameson shoves himself forward for one more hug. Marvin wraps him in his arms and holds him tight, kissing the top of his head.

“I love you, Marvin,” he signs against his chest.

“I love you too,” whispers Marvin. “My only joy. Go now, little sneak. Run back down the stairs and go home. And later, if I get scared, I'll remember that you came all this way to check on me, and that you were so sweet to me, and that I get to see you again tomorrow.”

Jameson nods, his face set miserably and his eyes downcast. He slips out of the bed and over to the door, pausing to glance back at Marvin.

In the light of the late afternoon, he glows gold, his hair lit up in an azure haze and his eyes glittering like stars. His soft mouth curls into a smile just for him.

JJ smiles back and races down the stairs.

It's just as simple to leave the keep as it was to enter. At the top of the hill, he looks back at the castle, and watches as a man rides home on a tall white horse.

Something in his heart clenches. His hands play with the small knife tucked into his boots.

Anti and Marvin always want to protect him and tell him there are things that he does not understand. But all he needs to know is this: someone is hurting Marvin, and he cannot let it go on.

He'll show them he's a man. He will find away to get Marvin out of there, and then he will never have to let him go again.

How cute

tiny hug

(via)

The Septic Egos. This took me three days to make, I'm really proud of it. I hope that you guys like it.

✨He✨

New tiktok!

Transitions are kinda bad 😅

Been awhile since I have written/posted something here, mostly cause I get scared to and being busy-- but! Here!

No Escape

Warnings: anxiety, possession of sorts, paranoia

Characters: Jameson, Anti

______

A cold night, breeze that chills one to the bone and a mute enter this scene. What a fine scene this is. The silent one brings his arms to his sides to rub against himself, maybe that'll get him warm. He hopes so.

It's not too long of trip left to his small little home, it's just a horrid night out. Especially without a proper coat or ride home.

This would have been just a task to get through, that is until a voice interrupts the air.

Oh Jameson~! I need ta chat with ya', some business you and I have. A shame we haven't had the time ta do this sooner. Hurry up and get home now.

Jameson froze in his steps, eyes wide with fear for the return of the demon. He was supposed to be gone! Not messing with him again- Nonono!

No! JJ feels the cold air choking him, wrapping its icy fingers around his grey tinted throat. Stealing his already sparse breath. He reaches up at his neck, grabbing the hands to-- Grabbing his throat to remind himself his throat is not being choked.

I have to get home- There's no where else.

With that, he rushes to his home. Hoping what he heard was just an awful trick of the mind, and that he can just focus on getting warm.

The dapper man enters his home, closing the door behind him with a turn of the lock. It's quiet here.. No usual weird noises that come from being tormented. No noise from his tv, he remembered to not leave it on this time.

He almost forgets that he was told to hurry home.

Well well... You did hurry home. I'm glad you still cooperate nicely with me. Like a pair you and I.

Oh God no.

Jameson shakes in his spot. There it is. The sound of static, leeching energy from all the other sounds of life and killing it. The only sound now is static. The fucking static!

Go away! I have no business with you, demon! You're supposed to be gone.

Ahahah! You really think you could keep me away? I will never be away from you. No more.

He can't! No. . . The puppeteer heads into the living room, where the tv is there. On, because he forgot to turn it off and playing a static channel. Jameson turns the tv off, he could've sworn he remembered this time.

You will leave! You're not welcome here.

A low chuckle seeps into the dark corners of Jameson's mind. Then the black fills his vision, just before he collapses.

I meant it when I said I will never be away from you. I'm inside your head.

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.

It’s going to be okay, I promise

a little piece of fanart for @artistic–insomniac‘s story Trade-Off!

It was such a good short fic, and yall should totally check her out if you haven’t already!

Jairsolas

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Six

A JSE Fanfic

*gasp* A POV change?! For the first time in this story?! How exciting! Yeah short description because I’ve had a long day as of queueing this, but basically we follow Marvin as he tries to track down the King. But instead, along the way, he meets someone new. And that’s all I have to say. Hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The noble family Portmota lived on the edge of the Southern Moors, their castle built on the last bit of solid land before the rivers came in and flooded the south of the kingdom. Officially, their claim covered all of the Moors, but everybody knew that the Moors ran on their own, much like the mountain villages to the west and north. But the meagerness of their claim didn’t stop the family from building themselves a solid, grand castle. It sat on top of a small hill, surrounded by a thick stone wall. The castle’s multiple towers reached the sky, and were numerous to require a large staff to keep the place running for the noble family and any visitors they might have.

With such a large body of servants, it was easy to slip in unnoticed. They always accepted help, and as long as you didn’t appear troublesome, they’d immediately snatch you up and put you to work the moment you asked for a position, no interview needed. 

This was something Marvin found out first hand when he decided to infiltrate the castle in preparation for the King’s visit.

Weiterlesen

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.

Can you tell us deets about the septic sins au or is that like just a theme for these series of art? Can we get liddol deets bout the others 👀

Of course!

I have all of them out on my Instagram, it's kind of a running joke there since yes, one of them is lust.

Pride!Jackie: Danger man, least aware of what he says and does. He will not hesitate to fight you to prove his worth and boost his ego, and he WILL win because he has superpowers. This man's ego is flourishing and it's horrible.

Wrath!Anti: Danger man too, he yells and screams constantly. Hates everyone and everything. Most likely to draw blood, and will kill someone who really pisses him off. Thankfully he has enough self control to not go on a rampage.

Gluttony!Robbie: A little zombie boy who needs to eat constantly. Must be kept fed at all times. Thankfully he eats slow, but if he becomes hungry enough he won't hesitate to go after a passerby on the street. Must be kept fed.

Avarice!Marvin: A greedy bitch who steals as many pretty things as he can. Uses his magic to help aid in stealing from shops and more. Also, to avoid Jackie since Jackie hates the fact he's ruining his reputation, and Marvin keeps getting away with stealing shit.

Envy!Henrik: The most sane, arguably. He hates the fact he was stuck with envy of all things, it burns away at him. He's usually stuck tending to Robbie and Jameson most of the time, but occasionally goes out to talk to the others too. He hopes one day he can put an end to this curse, since he doesn't want to feel like this anymore or for any of the others to have to deal with its effects.

Sloth!Jameson: Very sleepy boy, he doesn't do much. Usually he is awake for a good portion of the day, lays in bed a lot. Some days he can't bring himself out of bed, and just lays there instead. On rare occasions he does in fact just sleep all day. Henrik is often very worried for his health since he hardly eats since he's always asleep.

Lust!Chase: This man is constantly searching for love, whether it be the healthy or unhealthy kind. Normally out on the town but occasionally he visits home when he's not spending the night somewhere else. He doesn't handle rejection well, but he at least knows when he needs to move on to another person.

Here you go! Enjoy <3

Ack sorry I've been out all night but could I get a nose boop with, say, JJ and Marv? ❤️ - Vic

“May I ask you to explain this trick one more?”

Marvin didn’t look up from his book as he answered. “I found a tome on transfiguration and I want to test it out. I need you to hold the can so that if I do turn it into a puppy, it won’t be able to run away.”

JJ wrung his hands nervously. “Why choose me? Surely one of the others would suffice!” 

Marvin looked at JJ and realized just how nervous the young ego was. “Hey, it’ll be okay. No need to be scared,” he said softly. “I’ve got good control over my magic.”

“I know. It’s simply the fact that it’s magic at all! I trust you completely, good sir, but I trust the magic as much as I trust air travel, which is to say not at all!”

Marvin shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess. But this spell has no chance of being harmful! At worst, it makes the can grow a tail. I have some reversal spells ready just in case, if that makes you feel better. Just hold still, and it will all be fine.” He held up his hands, ready to preform the spell. JJ looked like he wanted to protest some more, but instead he held the can out at arms length and closed his eyes. 

Marvin read the spell, and softly glowing green mist began to surround his fingers. As he went on it was joined by a pale blue mist, and then the two combined. They formed a ball in Marvin’s hand, glittering with teal and turquoise. He lightly tossed the ball at the can.

Metal is a very good conductor when it comes to electricity. As it turned out, it was a conductor for certain spells as well.

There was a small flash of light. The can fell to the ground, right next to the brown puppy with the black mustache print under his nose. The puppy opened his mouth to yelp, but no sound came out. He crouched low to the ground, trembling.

“Oh my-JJ!” Marvin moved closer and picked the puppy up. he was a little Boston Terrier. Marvin held him close to his chest and pet him, trying to get him to calm down. Eventually JJ stopped shaking, and Marvin set him down on the ground again. He sat down on the ground as well. 

As guilty as he felt about turning JJ into a dog, he couldn’t help but grin and giggle. JJ padded up closer to Marvin, with his little puppy paws, and settled down in his lap. Marvin booped his nose and laughed when JJ tried to bite his finger playfully, his tiny puppy teeth not even hurting. From what Marvin could tell, based on what was the dog equivalent of a mortified expression after the fact, JJ still had his human mind but also had puppy instincts.

“Don’t worry JJ, I’ll get you turned back in no time,” he said. He pet JJ on the head. “But first…JACKIE! CHASE! SCHNEEP! GET IN HERE!”

JJ looked at him with puppy anger. “I just want to let them see you! You’re adorable!” JJ growled. “Please? Just for a minute?”

JJ stared at him. Then he started wagging his tail as a way of saying, “Fine.” 

When Schneep Met JJ (My AU)

Alright, take two. First one got deleted by an error about a fourth of the way in. I felt part of my soul leave when that happened. 

Anyway, this is a few days after Schneep got home from the “vacation”. Schneep meets JJ for the first time and notices something unusual about him right away.

 Story is…I believe the term is under the cut?

Weiterlesen

Not A Part (JJ and Anti)

(So I got this idea from the song Machine by Imagine Dragons. Blood and torture warnings! Lots of violence! JJ kinda goes to the dark side, a little. It’s not good.)

(@beerecordings, hey I remembered to tag you in something!)

Jameson struggled to breath. His head was pounding, his chest ached from the blow, and blood dripped from his mouth. The ever-present static scratched at his ears as it tore his body apart and stitched it back together, over and over. He was on his hands and knees, unable to stand. Anti kicked him again.

“Sto͝ṕ ͝fi̢ght̕in̕g ҉it, ͞pu̢pp͏e͘t͜!̨ Th̨is i̡s what̢ ͏y̨ou ҉wer͞e ͜b̢o͏r̨n̨ f͟o̵r̛!̨”

Jameson spit out the blood in his mouth. It never stopped, like Anti’s neck wound. It was a mark, showing that Jameson was under Anti’s control.

But he wasn’t. And he never would be.

“Go to hell.”

Anti laughed, but it was humorless and laden with rage. “Yo͜u'r͠e ̴n̵o beţter̸ th̕a̶n I ̨am! ̢Yo̕u're̵ noth͜ing̵ ҉morȩ ͠t́ḩan͜ a̛ ̡toơl̵ ͠f̸o̕r ̧me̶ ̶t́o uśe̵! Y͡o̵u͟'r̷e̛ ̕a ̢c͘o͘g̶ in m͘y m͢ach̛ín͠e!̷”

He kicked again. Jameson collapsed completely. But he stayed stubborn. “I’m not afraid of what you’re going to tell me, demon. You do nothing but lie.”

There should have been Zalgo. His slides should have been glitching as bad as his body. But they weren’t. Anti didn’t know why, and it made him furious. He grit his teeth. He grabbed Jameson’s shoulder and sent a flood of static into the young ego. “ Y̼̦̹̱̪̱̘̖͞͠͞Ǫ҉͍̮̤̻U̸̟̮̜̼̘͡!͇̤̭̤̮͇͖͜ ͎̪̪̣͟A̛̺̳̲̥͖̫͔R̜̬̫͠E͏̰͖!̪̞̟̘̪ ̝̤̫͈͚̗̼͈ͅM̷̱̯̩̳͈̲̕Ý̹͉̀͟!̗̫̺̺̳̀ ̱͍̤̮̭͓P̖͕̙̻̩̱̩Ù͎͔͈̹̲̕͠P͏̱̠P̙͓̝̜͉E̶̻̺̟̪̼̥Ṱ̶̟͇̲̗̹!̢̯̟̼̦͘”

Jameson screamed, his form exploding into thousands of pixels and glitches. Anti grinned. The mute had to submit now, surely.

Then he came back together.

But he was standing. 

And he was holding a knife.

His eyes were completely blacked out, but Anti couldn’t control him. Anti stepped back. “W͡-̸̵̡w͢ha̷͜͝t̵̛͘ is ͏̡t̶h̵͜͠ì̷̛s̕͢͟?̛”

Jameson stood, breathing heavily. He raised the knife, and pointed it at Anti. “I…I am NOT a part of your machine.” He glitched, and then he was right in front of Anti. He drove the knife deep into the glitch’s stomach. He looked him in the eye, unflinching, unremorseful, as Anti screeched with pain and shock. Jameson twisted the knife. His mustache twitched with satisfaction when he pulled the blade out and Anti collapsed. 

“Ho̵w.̵.͢.͜d͞a̵r͟e yo҉u,̀” Anti tried to growl, but it came out as almost a whimper. Jameson crouched down and grinned, just as Anti had done while torturing him so many times before.  

“It’s your own fault. You thought it would be a good idea to give me power, to tell me I’m meant for ‘great things’, fill my cup with endless ambition.” Jameson giggled. “But you couldn’t break me.”

“S̀o҉ ͢I b͠ro̶ķe͜ ̀y͢o̡u͏.̀”

Anti watched through blurry vision as the glitches around Jameson changed. They became less like static, less like computer glitches. He flickered around like broken film, the green tint replaced with sepia. Like in Jameson’s first video. 

When people wondered if Jameson was Anti in disguise.

If Jameson was a bad guy.

The static was replaced. The sounds of an old movie camera trying to run broken film spools, the scratching and screeching of broken records, a cacophony of old music that played one song over the other, skipping and screaming, they filled the room.

Anti held his stomach. It was pouring blood. But he wouldn’t die.

He couldn’t die.

He…he couldn’t die.

Could he die?

Jameson frowned. “You’re in so much pain. And it’s my fault! Where are my manners? Let me help.”

He gripped Anti’s shoulder, just as Anti had done mere minutes ago. And the chaotic noise shifted, from coming from Jameson to coming from Anti’s own head.

Anti knew what was happening. His eyes went wide. He tried to glitch away, but he was too weak. He was losing so much blood…

Jameson smiled. “Shh…shh…just relax…as I said Anti, I’m not a part of your machine.”

His speech slide lingered in Anti’s vision, refusing to go away completely. Anti shuddered. What was happening? Why…why couldn’t he think? He couldn’t…he was the puppetmaster…how…oh…the noise was so nice…once you…got used to it…

Jameson smirked as Anti relaxed.

“I am the machine.”

30 43 with jj and chase

Chase chuckled at the TV and re-adjusted his blanket again. He was having trouble sleeping, again. ‘Thank God for subtitles,’ he thought. No way he was risking one of the others waking up to lecture him.

“Chase?”

Chase turned around. “JJ? What’re you doing up bro?”

JJ rubbed his eyes. He was in the pajamas that Chase had gotten him for Christmas. The shirt had the design of a suit on it, “So you can be dapper while you sleep too!” Chase had joked. It warmed Chase’s heart. JJ sat down next to Chase.

“I’m afraid that I simply cannot sleep. Every time I drift off I…I have a nightmare. About the glitch. I would like to stay up with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, no problem!” Chase lifted up the blanket. JJ smiled gratefully and got under the blanket. He moved as close as he could to Chase, and Chase realized that JJ was shivering. He wrapped an arm around his younger brother.

JJ rarely talked during movies or TV shows, and tonight was no exception. Chase watched quietly as well. He wanted JJ to get to sleep, and taking would prevent that.

Chase moves the blanket thwy were sharing to cover JJ’s legs a bit better. The dapper ego didn’t say thank you, however, because he was already halfway asleep. Soon, his head was resting on Chase’s shoulder as faint speech slides with Z’s all over them floated around the room.

Chase found his own eyelids getting heavy. JJ made it so much warmer…Chase leaned his head back to lay it on the back of the couch cusion. Cozy. That’s how he felt. Cozy.

‘Cozy is a nice word,’ he thought, beging to drift off to sleep. He felt JJ snuggle closer, and when he finally did fall asleep he did so with a small smile on his face.

(I wrote this at past 5 am is it any good? I can’t tell I’m going to sleep now my eyeballs are sore.)

but just imagine the other egos finding JJ now and there’s just like this fucking?? puppet show box??? and they’re like what the hell?? it’s all locked up and stuff and they go up to the front and look in and there’s just the missing little brother all curled in on himself, hiding in the corner, asleep with his toys and stuffies, his arms wrapped up in strings. and they’re confused cause it takes them a second to realize that he’s been a prisoner here for a very long time, being used by Anti for a meatsuit, at which point they just start going ahhhhhhh!????? ahhH???? ahhhhhhhh ohhhhh noooo ahhhh and then they are very, very nice to this poor freaked out confused little newcomer, who doesn’t understand why he’s being taken out of his box into the big scary world when Anti told him to stay

Out Of Time

A/N: @obsidiancreates suggested last night that I write a hero au fic where Schneep and JJ have to help out Marvin… it’s spiralled out of control from there. 

I have forgotten my entire taglist… uhh @a-humble-narcissus @kairomancerr @egopocalypse @dakotathewhale oh please let me know if I’ve forgotton you or if you want to be added/removed  

———————————

“Timekeeper?“ Marvin asked quietly, watching the figure slowly step forward out of the shadows of the alley. 

The Glitch smiled behind his mask as the man moved to stand next to him. “I’ll give you a choice, M͘agn̕͞i̧͝͡f͢i̧c͘e̛͟n̨t̵: join my ranks, or I’ll let my pet here show you what a mistake you’ve made.”

Marv growled. “You think I’d ever join you? Bullshit.” He let a small flicker of flame slowly climb up his arm, readying himself for a fight. 

“I was̢ w͠o̶r̀ŗi̸e͡d ҉y͢ou'̵d͝ saỳ t̴h̢a̸t…” The Glitch grinned, and his eye flashed green. 

The Timekeeper’s head snapped up violently, and he took a step towards Marvin. 

The magician raised his hand. “Not a step closer, buddy, or I'll— what the—?”

The Timekeeper cocked a grin, and the flames in his hand disappeared. He felt bile rise in his throat, dizziness sweeping him as he tried to light the flames again, only to have them snap off a second later. All he could feel was déjà vu. 

“He could keep doing this forev͢e̛r҉, you know? Throwing you back a few seconds, back to when you didn’t have your magic flowing,” The Glitch said, giggling. “You’d n̷e̷v̧er ͞wįn.”

Marvin scowled. “Well, you won’t win this, Glitch.”

The masked man threw his head back and cackled. “I have time on my side, Magnificent! I’ve already ẁo҉n͡!” He snapped his fingers, and the Timekeeper nodded. 

Marvin screamed. 

***

All Jameson could hear was the ticking of a clock. His head was filled with static, and all he could think of was the ticking, loud and constant. 

Loud and constant and his. 

The man in front of him had steel in his eyes and flames at his wrists, but as he looked at JJ through his cat-shaped mask, betrayal and fear flickered across his face. 

He was causing that fear, the expression deepening every time he wound back time on the man, extinguishing his flames. The static told him to be proud. 

He was. 

Suddenly, he felt it push him towards the man, so he walked. As he grew closer, the ticking grew louder and the static grew thicker. 

And then it told him to take. 

The ticking rang in his ears and he knew and he wanted to take 

take everything take it all it was his it was his it was all his to do with as he pleased every second every minute was his he needed to tākę i͜t͠ 

He needed to take everything. 

He barely registered the man in front of his screaming as he pulled the years from his life, slowly syphoning off every minute, watching them twirl around him in a delicate dance until the man collapsed to his knees and then onto the ground, no life left to give. 

Static and satisfaction settled into his chest. It was his. 

The ticking rang in his ears, loud and constant. 

Then the static came and whispered in his ear, stoking his hair gently. “Good job, little Timekeeper. Such a good little p̢up͡p̧et, taking and taking and taking,” it whispered. JJ nodded, not feeling the tears dripping down his face. “You did so well…”

The static rushed in, and he blacked out. 

***

Jameson came to, head spinning. His whole body ached, and he sat up, head spinning. What had just—

Magnificent lay, unmoving, on the pavement in front of him. 

All at once, the memories of what had just happened came crashing in on him, and he struggled not to throw up.

“No, no, nonono,” he cried, crawling over to the hero. “Magnificent, wake up, wake up!” His slides flashed rapidly as he shook him, although inside he knew it was pointless. 

Magnificent was dead. 

And he had killed him. 

His breath caught, and he felt all the blood drain from his face. 

He…

He killed someone. Took every second of time they had from them. 

And he’d enjoyed it. 

His breathing began to speed up, and he grabbed his hair, rocking slowing back and forth. Slides flickered in the air beside him, filled with apologies and denials and silent pleas for help. 

With tears pouring down his cheeks, he wished desperately that he could scream. He needed help he needed help he someone god help

Everything around him shattered. 

Ticking rang in his ears. 

help who could help he needed them here now he needed help what had he done? 

He pulled. 

*** 

One moment, Henrik was quietly enjoy a cup of coffee, and the next, he found himself next to the Timekeeper and Magnificent. 

One of whom was panicking, the other dead. 

Schneep’s heart dropped. Swirling around the Timekeeper he could see bright orange of panic, laced with the muddy reds and purples of grief and fear. 

And around Marvin was nothing. 

The Timekeeper looked up at him, desperation and mania in his eyes. “Please, Medic, you must heal him! I’ve done something to him, taken all his time, but I know that you can save him! Right?”

Henrik looked down at the two of them, colour draining from his face. “Mein freund… I cannot heal someone who is already dead.”

The Timekeeper’s face dropped. “No, you must. I couldn’t have killed him, no… No, no, no…”

Schneep took a step back, feeling something around him start to shift. 

“No, I couldn’t have, no, oh what have I done whathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdone?”

With that, something fractured. 

Henrik stumbled backwards, only to be pulled back to where he was a few second prior, and then to find himself with his hands pressed to Marvin’s still chest. The Timekeeper seemed to be experiencing the same thing, jumping forwards and backwards in time, his expression rapidly changing. Schneep managed to find a second to look up, only to see the time of day begin to change, jumping from night to day like a skipping record. 

“Timekeeper!” he tried to yell, feeling his words get swallowed up by the jumps. He was thrown to his feet again. “Timekeeper, you must stop this!“ 

He threw himself forward, arms wrapping around the smaller man. With a thought, he grabbed hold of his emotions and began to reign them in, trying not to be too harsh about it, feeling a little bit guilty about using his powers without consent. 

"Let us calm down now, ja? It is alright,” he whispered, patting his back. “You can explain to me what has happened, and then we can see what can be done.”

The Timekeeper nodded slowly, his breathing still shaky, and Henrik gently pulled out of the hug. 

“Tell me what has happened.”

The Timekeeper took a deep inhale. “Something had me not in my right mind, doc. It told me to…” He looked down, breath hitching. “It told me to take the Magnificent’s time from him. And I couldn’t say no, so I drained the living right out of him, year by year. And now he’s gone and it’s all my fault and—”

Schneep shushed him. “It is not your fault, Timekeeper. It is, I will assume, the Glitch’s. He is an evil, evil man, and it is not your fault what he made you to do.”

“…no?”

“Of course not. You were not the one in the controls of your own mind. What you can control for, though, is what you do now, ja? If you could take the years straight out of him, then why not see if you can put them right back in his little body?" 

"I could try…” replied the Timekeeper tentatively. 

Henrik kneeled to the ground, placing his hands on his friend’s still body, praying that the plan would work. “I will do the healing of him at the same time, to help. Now, work your timey-wimey magics! Little Marvin is not done on this Earth quite yet!”

The Timekeeper took a deep breath and placed his hands on Marvin’s body as well.

***

Marvin awoke to a ticking, loud and constant. His body and mind ached, and he swore as he sat up, feeling like he’d aged a hundred years. 

He pried his eyes open to see two very tired, very relieved looking people beside him, their hands lingering near him. 

“It worked…” said the Timekeeper. 

Marvin blinked, shocking away. “What worked? Are you not still evil or possessed or whatever now? Am I missing something here?”

Schneep patted him. “Perhaps it is best if we explain later. You have had a long day.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say, man. I just need a nap.”

winged JJ in the air: graceful, elegant, fast. winged JJ the moment he touches down on the ground: wobbles and then trips over nothing.

He is both a gentleman and a disaster XD

Jackie, trying to support DA!JJ: DONT LET YOUR DREAMS BE DREAMS! DA!JJ: Ok! :D -goes to angrily sign at Dark for trapping him in the mirror- Jackie: WAIT JJ NO THATS NOT WHAT I- Aaaaand he’s gone.

Jackie: BECOME THE TERRIFYING GHOST YOU WERE ALWAYS MEANT TO BE

Jameson: HELL YEAH I’m going to unleash CURSES on this house!!

Jackie: uhhhhh hm.

Heyo! For the one worded prompt, how about: relax with JJ? 💚💚

Curled up in bed, with a magic glow to protect him, Chase hums softly as he plays with JJ’s hair, pushing it out of his face and stroking it gently. Jameson’ chest slowly rises and falls, his mustache faintly twitching every now and then.

At least Jameson no longer cries or coughs. His fever has finally gone down and he can have small amounts of soup. 

The song Chase sings is an old Irish lullaby, one he would sing to his children to help them sleep at night. He faintly remembers it being about an old faerie legend, where a selkie’s voice could break hearts of stone.

Jameson’s eyelids flutter open. He turns sideways, acknowledging Chase. Chase smiles and gently pecks his forehead.

“How ya feeling, kiddo?” Chase whispers. JJ shrugs as well as he can and smiles.

“Schneep says your fever broke, so you should be back on your feet in no time,” Chase continues. Jameson wiggles his moustache contentedly, and closes his eyes again.

Chase can feel his own eyelids grow heavy, but there something catches his eye. A screen reads, [Thanks for looking after me. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.}

JJ has only just started learning how to use magic to make screens, this must be draining him.

“You don’t owe me a thing,” Chase said. “Just relax, JJ.” The vlogger kisses JJ’s head.

{Good night, Chase.]

“Good night, JJ.”

For @kofi-king, who wished for JJ and Chase cuddling <3333

@graysun, @miishae, @florenceisfalling, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @writerwithdepression, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada, @deadlydevine, @meteorshowersfillthesky, @bupine, @the-yandere-kitsune, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow

Magnificent Spell

“JJ!” Marvin excitedly grabs JJ by the arm and sits him by the bed. “I have an idea!”

“What, what is it?” JJ asks, hands trembling with excitement.

“I have a way for you to communicate without using your hands! That way, if you ever need to tell us anything but your hands are tied or full, you can still talk!”

JJ gasps, eyes growing wide. “You can do that?”

“Yes, it just requires a bit of mouthing!” Marvin ties his long, sparkly hair back into a ponytail. He sits down on the bed, across from JJ. Jameson crosses his legs and watches Marvin intently.

“For this spell to work, you need to mouth exactly what I say! How good are you at lip reading?”

JJ nods in excitement.

Marvin chuckles. “I’ll take that as ‘a very good lip-reader’. Now remember. You must concentrate with all your might, or else the spell will break and we’ll have to start over. Can you concentrate for what could be an hour?”

“I once memorized an entire script in two hours, I can do this!” JJ signs, determined.

“Then repeat after me!” Marvin begins chanting silently, careful to enunciate every word. JJ repeats every word as fast as he could.

“Not too fast,” a voice in JJ’s head warns. Is Marvin communicating telepathically? Wow!!! “You might mess up.”

If JJ stares at anything other than Marvin’s lips, he might see tiny beads of sweat trickling down Marvin’s forehead, or his cheeks flushing with colour.

Marvin watches the space beside Jameson, nerves fluttering in his stomach. He had conveniently forgotten to tell Jameson that the spell they’re using is a spell invented an hour ago.  By Marvin himself. But Marvin’s head hadn’t exploded when he tried it, so why should Jameson’s? He’ll be fine. Hopefully.

Something begins to flicker beside Jameson’s head. Marvin almost stops, but quickly collects himself. Freak out later. Celebrate later!

He sends his younger brother a quick telepathic message. “Keep concentrating and keep watching me! We’re almost there!”

Words flicker onto the screen, Marvin gasps as the ancient Fae words appear in a fancy, old fashioned font, like a small screen of text from a silent movie.

“We did it Jameson, look!!!” Marvin cries, pointing at the screen.

{Really?!} JJ turns his head to side so fast he almost hits his nose on the screen. {Oh my goodness!!! It’s as if we pulled it straight out of a moving picture!}

Marvin attempts to pull his jaw off of the floor. “Not bad for a new spell.”

That gets Jameson’s attention. He cocks his head. {New?!?!}

“Yeah… I just tried it… an hour ago…” Marvin mumbles, still shocked.

{Really? What happened when you did it?}

“Nothing!” Marvin says. He quickly adds, “But my head didn’t explode and neither did anything else, so I figured it was safe! I was so excited to show you!”

Jameson smiles. {Thank you. Now how do I turn it off?}

Marvin blinks in confusion. “What? Why? I thought-”

{I don’t want to abuse my new power,} Jameson explains. {And it might seem strange to those around me. Like you said, I’m only using this when I truly need it.}

“I guess there’s an off switch,” Marvin says. “Think of it as a light switch, on and off.”

The sign disappears in a puff of smoke. Jameson smiles and signs, “Thank you, Marvin.” He embraces his brother.

Marvin returns the warm hug and kisses his brother’s forehead. “Anything for you, Jameson.”

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

For the @basket-full-of-septics prompt: Magnificent Spell!!!

Keep reading

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)

“They won’t take you away from me ever again.” -Puppet Master

His heart hammered against his chest, fury unleashing as the man in front of him went limp after a crack resonated within the room. Anyone else would’ve found it strange that someone screaming and begging for their life would go silent out of nowhere.

Yet... if you looked closely, a web of royal blue strings stretched through the space, some of the thin strings wrapped tightly around their limbs and twisted necks. Seeing their panic as they fought the invisible force that his strings carried was amusing. The men dancing like mindless puppets while the thread sliced their limbs. One false move and the steel-like strings would swiftly slice of heads and limbs.

Disgusting pests.

The dapper moved his fingers though as he moved them, the bodies started falling to the ground one by one, emitting a dull thud as they made contact with the ground. He took slow steps, the web of strings slowly dissolving as he got closer to what he was looking for. The coldness in his sapphire eyes melts away as he sees Henrik slumped against the wall and worry is quick to strikes his heart. Jameson runs, soon letting himself fall to his knees as he cradles Henrik in his arms.

Thankfully Henrik hadn’t witnessed any of that. Jameson wouldn’t know what measures he’d have to take in order to make Henrik forget. At the end... He wouldn’t want to scare him away. He wouldn’t want to think he’s that glitch—

But Jameson is nothing like Anti. He uses this new found power to protect the one he cares about.

“{You are safe now... Know that no one will dare lay another finger on you.}” The dapper whispered in Henrik’s mind. However, anger is quick to return. It’s all his fault... That idiotic hero. Good for nothing... What kind of hero would put someone in danger like that? If Henrik wasn’t as selfless as he is towards Jackie then this wouldn’t had happen. Jackie is the one to blame here, him and him alone.

“{They won’t take you away from me ever again...}” Jameson vowed. “{I will make sure that hero answer for his crimes...}”

Crawl To Salvation

Content Warning: Burns, Captivity, Fire, mentions of death, ableism Possession (feel free to request more) 

Jameson knew nothing else but to crawl. 

The woods floor was damp with condensation; the tiny droplets from the trees leaves cascaded over his charred body, steaming as they came down. The man’s body was broken; his legs were seared, leaving patches of pink flesh throbbing in the air. Yet, his mind has never felt so well, free to finally think for and as himself.

His only desire was to find someone, anyone, other than the beast he left in the flames a few feet behind him. He had no recollection of how long he’d actually been dragging his body along the wet floor, inching along as leaves stuck to him and twigs stabbed his belly. 

The woods around him began to meld into each other, until the trees resembled a large, obsidian monster whose branches looked like spider legs, as his vision dipped in and out of unconsciousness. Jameson’s mind was no longer focused on surviving; he felt his body caving in to the forgiving darkness. If he were to die, he’d die knowing that his mind was his for the first time, and that this was his action to take.  

Suddenly, Jameson heard footsteps approaching him from behind. He listened as they broke sticks under their feet and walked at an even pace, obviously taking their time. Jameson could feel the wickedness with every careless step, and it was closing in. The urge to crawl again beat his heart into doing the same and he continued his dissent with all the strength he could muster. 

The man behind inevitably caught up to him and watched the sight. He tilted his head to the side as he watched the burning man grasp at leaves and dirt to pull his body into the direction of freedom; like a snail trying to escape from under the sole of a boot. The man finally chuckled and bent down, grasping the back of Jameson’s neck. Jameson seized in pain, trying to lift his hand to swat the man’s hand away. His weakened state was no match for the iron grip.

”Y’know…I am very impressed at how you did that” The mans German accent cut through the woods with a deep rumble. Jameson knew that he was the doctor Anti kept in the basement. “Never would’ve guessed you knew anything other than to be good to me.” His words were clumsy and non-emotive. “But, I now realize that you don’t know how to do that either” Tears started to spring from Jameson’s eyes as he thrashed weakly, leaving no struggle for Henrik, as he flipped Jameson over on his back. Jamesons back arched as he writhed in pain. “It was my fault, I know. I assumed you weren’t so able…and cognizant.” 

Jameson continued to writhe, twisting to escape from underneath the doctor despite his injuries pulsing in agony. The doctor cupped the mans face, silently demanding him to face him. “But that’s okay, We’ll just start over, and make sure that every knot is tied just as tight as the last” The doctor trailed his finger along the mans charred wrists in monotonous motion; It started to feel as if strings slinked through his blood; Disgust creased his chapped lips. 

Henrik got closer, speaking at a violent whisper. “I’ll rip…every last feeling of rebellion from your pathetic brain that you won’t even know how to sign your name, because all you can ever think about is mine” Henrik smiled wide and crazed; the moonlight twinkled off his teeth. Jameson was frozen with scared eyes beneath who he thought was the doctor Anti kept in the basement, yet from the way blood trailed down from his eyes and nose, from the way Henrik’s pupils engulfed the blue of his irises, Jameson realized Anti was still alive and wasn’t his only body. Henrik’s fingers twirled a piece of Jameson’s hair as he spoke,  “But we will take our time. I can’t lose a human like you. Who feels so good to put on. Even right now…I’m itching to feel you again.”

Anti got up from the ground. Standing over Jameson, he grabbed his leg, to which Jameson gasped sharply, and started to pull him back towards the barns direction, Jameson harsh twisting doing nothing with the little strength he had. He prayed and prayed for something, anything! He wish to rip the nails boarding up his voice to scream, “Free me! Help me! I’m here! Help!” until his throat was torn to shreds from pleading. 

In the corner of his eye, a light unlike the moon light glimmered through the trees. It was some ways in the distance. Jameson whose heart leaped for the rest of his being, begged him to take action. Shrill whistles escaped Jameson’s lips on after another, his call for help. Anti let go of Jameson’s leg with a painful thump. He had not registered the pain as whistles continued to leap from his mouth, as a scream for help. 

Then, a sharp force to the mouth knocked Jameson apart. All the sudden strength, courage, his whistles, were knocked towards the wind with a swift kick to the face, giving nothing but an agonizing crack. Anti giggled profusely at Jameson’s decaying state, knowing he’d struck where his last bit of energy was. “They don’t care, Jameson. Nobody does. Nobody can and will care as much as I do.” Anti spoke darkly to an unconscious Jameson. Anti narrowed his eyed, looking up towards light source. As quickly as it appeared, it promptly vanished within the night, probably thinking it was nothing to check out. Anti sighed in relief; he would have had to kill someone and ironically, was not in the mood tonight.

He reached down and grabbed Jamesons leg. He adjusted the way the mans body was twisted were he laid, unfolding him to have him lay on his back. Anti whistled an unnamed tune, as he dragged his doll back home. 

Notes: I’m back??? I don’t know, between real life and tumblr, I have yet to find a healthy balance. But, I realized that just writing “mediocre” short stories about my favorite boys is really the only thing that keeps me sane (ironically). And just realizing that posting on tumblr isn’t and doesn’t have to feel like a “full time job with perfection”, so I’m just letting myself have fun and I hope you find something you like within that too.

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.”

This Just looks awsome And if you havent read the Fanfiction yet Do it its an awsome one!

Antisepticeye from my latest book on Wattpad called ‘Used to the Cage’

Check it out for this pic to make complete sense lol

Don’t repost or steal

Reblogs appreciated :)

I asked Instagram for some songs for me to make mini AUs off of them for fun

Given: Falling Inside the Black by Skillet

JJ is an unwilling test subject in a human experiment looking to create a drug that produces super humans. He is known to the researchers as #6. After taking this treatment, he starts to have visions of the past. Before long, he realizes that they aren’t just visions. He can interact with the world during that time as well. He meets the previous five subjects.

#1 is- was known as Jackie. He had volunteered to be part of this experiment. JJ gets to know him as he goes through the treatment. He was a success. A superhuman with superhuman strength, superhuman hearing, the power of flight. But for reasons unknown, he died.

#2 was Marvin. Marvin was an unwilling patient. After the treatment, he developed telekinetic powers, but started seeing things that no one else could see. He escaped one day and hasn’t been seen since.

#3 was a criminal who called himself Anti. He never gave his real name. He starts to travel through dimensions and the researchers lose track of him. One day, he appears with a knife and goes on a killing spree. He is shot and killed.

#4 was a researcher who helped in the drug’s development. He volunteered for the position. His name was Henrik von Schneeplestein. He could heal people with a touch of his hand. One day during experimentation, he started coughing up black goop. Within a day, he was dead. It was found later during the autopsy that he was dying from the inside out to heal people. His organs were already rotten by the time he was cut open.

#5 was an willing, but unknowing patient: Chase. He had only wanted some extra cash, but he started to feel other people’s feelings. His own feelings became heightened. He attempts to harm himself, but he is restrained. He breaks his binding one day and kills himself.

JJ, now with the knowledge of what happened to the previous subjects, starts to plan his own escape

O-O okay good to know

fun obscure ego fact: anti's favorite type of alcohol..........

is ✨ 𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒏 ✨

i spy with my little eye... aurora borealis

i've had this idea for so long, but here's a thing for @beerecordings's my brothers corrupted! i've wanted to make covers for each of the chapters for so long and i've had the most specific images of them in my mind, so the chapter two one will probably be coming soon :DD here's our boy dap admiring the night sky in norway

press a button to begin!