#spicydanhowell

[my-brothers-corrupted]

are you bringing the stuff from the car, hen? heading out?

“Right, right,” says Henrik. “Yes, I... I have to get going, don’t I? Thank you. Yes, I have all the stuff from the car in my backpack.”

If you don’t question who’s giving him the third necklace, he isn’t going to bother to either. He doesn’t want to think about it anyway, as he has an inkling of who it might be from. Emmanuela places it around his throat and it falls down to his clavicle, so the necklaces make a three-star constellation from his collarbone to his breasts. The design of the raven is lean and

“Thank you,” he says. “For everything. For the things you did do. And for the things you would have done if you could have. If I had asked you.”

“If you ever need anything,” she answers.

“Yes.” He knows what she means.

“Goodbye, Henrik.”

He takes her out-stretched hand and shakes it. Takes in one more look of the Raven Queen.

“Goodbye, Emmanuela.”

He turns back to Hermann, staring sadly at him from the corner.

“Come on,” he laughs, reaching out for him, and Hermann takes his hand. “Stop sulking. It’s time to go.”

“Okay,” says Hermann wearily. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the marketplace.”

“Thank you.”

The old convent looks down at him one more time in return. In his mind, he says goodbye to the little room with the open windows, goodbye to the garden and the cool dark chapel, goodbye to the dining room and the piano and the forest where he remembered his name.

Hermann whispers a spell to move them through the convent’s protection, and they reflect through the mirror and re-appear into the world. Cars rush around them. Buildings tower above and chatter with noise. The streets are swarmed with people.

Time to see his family again.

[breakingsomething]

hey so fun question because i want to nurture the fall anti like my own son: did he not eat 'cause he was too embarrassed to in front of chase and marvin 'cause y'know... no fuckin tongue? i googled how eating would work without one and apparently it's difficult and awkward. does he not wanna get picked on? smh my son

that is absolutely one reason yes! and the other big reason was because jackie was,, hmmmmmmmm not the Nicest when it came to food (we'll probably talk more about that later because of course i'm not done talking about anti's fun fun fun music shop adventure) and he was lowkey scared that marvin had uh. poisoned it or something. more trauma from jackie yay!

but yeah that's also a big reason so he hates eating in front of people now, he only feels safe now if it's food he's made/bought himself and he's eating it away from people. a restaurant is like his own personal food hell but he said yes to it because he wanted to hang out with marvin more ksbdbdbd

[spunketpunk]

i appreciate how thicc your marv is. i tend to hc him being long and willowy so seeing him with a full figure and body hair and generally looking very masculine in his physical form while also wearing makeup is so cool tysm

:D Ahh! Thank youuu! Hell yeee Lance got those big hips. I love the concept of him wearing makeup, especially vibrant and shimmery eyeshadows. 💜

And I adore your Marvin alot dude! 💚 It's so neat to see so many amazing and unique Marvin designs in the community.

[beerecordings]

locked away and mind trauma with jackie (could be during or aftermath or both idc

“Hey, losers, line up!” His hands push the door shut and lock it as his feet kick off his sneakers. “I brought home drinks.”

His voice rings out through the house and a chattering of voices answer him from the kitchen, excited. Chase rounds the corner first, followed by Marvin, both grinning and calling thanks as they catch sight of his hands, holding a cup carrier full of their favorite fall drinks.

Chase comes rushing up to him to help, chattering enthusiastically about his favorite coffee shop. Jackie’s mouth smiles and says, “It’s no problem, bud, I thought we could all use a pick-me-up. Here, chai latte, just for you.”

Beaming, Chase accepts it. His fingers brush against Jackie’s, but he barely feels it.

He barely feels anything.

His legs carry him to the kitchen, where Marvin and Henrik reach out eagerly for a warm cup of caffeine, both accepting coffees from him, flavored just the way they like them. They smile so brightly at him it seems to make the world pause to smile back. The remains of breakfast is still scattered around the table. On Sundays, they all eat together. It’s a gorgeous day for it, too. Sun shines down through the crisp autumn air, making their kitchen glow with warm light. Dust filters peacefully through the air.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.

His face doesn’t move. He is smiling, speaking, exchanging words with his little brothers, even touching them occasionally, laying his hand on their shoulders or patting their hands. Marvin looks vaguely disconcerted - Jackie rarely touches - but he brushes it off. It’s a good day, after all.

“Jackie,” he says proudly, glancing over at the sink, where a little figure is quietly washing dishes. “Why don’t you ask Jamie if he wants his?”

Jackie’s eyes blink. “Oh, uh. Yeah, I guess. James, I got you a peppermint hot chocolate, just like you like. You want it?”

Henrik frowns, glancing up at Jackie. He rarely calls him anything but Jaimer or JJ. Nobody calls him James. He supposes it doesn’t much matter.

Jameson looks up from the dishes, blinking large eyes, which are only now losing the deep exhaustion that has haunted them for weeks.

Jackie’s body shifts, uncertain.

You don’t know what you’re waiting for, do you? asks Jackie inside his head, fury clawing at his throat. I do. I know what we’re waiting for. You don’t know my family. You think you can pretend to be me and just -

Q̃͡uie̍͗́t̼.

Jackie’s head tilts patiently, his mouth smiling at Jameson.

His little brother’s hand reaches up, slowly.

He knocks the air, touches his chin and draws away.

“Yes, please,” he says.

Chase whoops, coming over to clasp Jamie’s shoulder proudly. “There he goes,” Henrik murmurs, smiling warmer than Jackie’s ever seen him smile.

“He’s talking again,” cheers Marvin, throwing an arm around Jackie’s shoulder. There are tears in his big blue eyes. Jackie’s eyes rake over his body like it’s meat. “He said he liked his eggs runny this morning, haha.”

“That’s good,” manages Jackie’s voice, his mouth smiling. “He hasn’t since, uh - since he was with Anti, huh?”

“Yeah, no,” murmurs Marvin. “Guess he’s finally - finally, finally - starting to feel safe again. Fuck.” He rubs at his face and laughs, drawing away. “It’s a good day, man.”

Jackie’s teeth are bared in a smile. His hands pulls the hot chocolate from the cup holder and hold it up to Jameson, who scampers forward to grab it, taking it from his fingers with a small, perfect smile.

Jackie, inside his own head, is crying.

You stole this moment from me. I have been waiting for this for months. Since I stole him back from you, I have been waiting.

C̢ͨo̲͜nsidͩe̝̲͛̈́r t̕hͣ̓̀̚i̝̗̝s͖ ̴̄̋͗yo̷͚͓̅̀u̱̲̖͆ͤͮr̝̰ ̶p͈̺̫͜u̹̖ͫͬ́n̨is̭̅h̒m͈enͭͭt̹ͪ́ ̶̲͓̩̃ͫ͆for̝ͨ ̌ͩ̑͏̥̭̹st̷̘̫e͞á̳̘l̰̝̦̔͗ͥï̲n̡ͤͯ̿g̑͛̚͏̳̥̲ ̸̫hȋ̅͘ṃ̟ ͗̉a̓w̤̲̪̄ͭ͐ay͍̗̗ͤͣ́ fr͢o̜m mȅ̉̔ ͌͗̾in ̗̻ͦ͑͜th̠̫e ͕̩̉ͣfi̓rst͋ p͠l̡ͦac͢e͙.͑͋

There is a knife in Jackie’s hoodie pocket.

Don’t do this to him.

Jameson takes a little sip of his chocolate. Henrik is already halfway through his coffee, while Chase is downing his latte with the last of his breakfast muffin. Marvin’s fingers drum against his cup. Jackie’s eyes watch patiently, waiting.

Don’t do this to them.

Jackie tries to thrash. Tries to scream. Tries to move, even just to make his fingers twitch.

Anything but this. Anything but this.

Henrik yawns, chatting with Chase about his plans for the day while Jamie stands happily between them, drinking his chocolate.

Jackie is chained in silver and cerebration.

At last, Marvin takes a long drink of his coffee, sighing, content, his arm still wrapped around Jackie’s shoulders. “Thanks for the coffee, man.”

“Yeah, course,” says his mouth.

Jackie is hidden behind prison bars and dura mater, panting, desperately, for breath, while Anti sits silent in his blood.

Henrik yawns again, shaking his head at himself. “Fuck, I need to wake up. It’s already eleven and I’m still so tired.”

“It’s those late nights,” teases Chase. “Good thing Jacks got you some coffee.”

“Very good thing,” answers Henrik, grinning wryly and taking another drink. “Gives me the energy to put up with you.”

No, no, no. Brother, put it down. Can’t any of you tell I’m not me?

Henrik gets up to help put a couple dishes away. Chase has gone a little pale, standing against the kitchen counters like he’s not steady enough to walk on his own. Jameson is frowning down at his drink. He could swear he tastes something slightly sour beneath his peppermint and chocolate.

He looks up at Jackie. Jackie’s eyes stare back.

But he’s just being paranoid, isn’t he? Like everyone keeps telling him. No one’s coming for you, Jamie. No one’s going to hurt you, Jamie. Anti’s not going to get you again, we love you, we’re right here.

He stares at Jackie, chewing on his lip.

Henrik drops a plate and it shatters into earthenware shards, scattering across the floor. Marvin cries out in alarm, hurrying to Henrik’s side. He does not make it before Henrik collapses, slamming into the ground with a painful thud.

“Fuck! Henrik, can you hear me?” Marvin hauls him into his arms, cradling his head. His eyes have rolled back in his head and his mouth hangs slightly open as he struggles to breathe, giving a small, confused groan. Marvin pats the side of his face and tries to get him to look at him, calling his name. “Henrik, Henrik, it’s okay, bud. You okay? Are you with me, Doc? Chase, help me with him, let’s get him to the couch, he - Chase?”

Chase is white as a ghost, gripping the kitchen counters. His hands shake. His legs shake. “M-marvin?” he stammers, sweaty hands clinging to granite. “Jackie?”

Anti watches him coolly, Jackie’s face blank. He reaches out to take somebody’s half-finished cup of orange juice and takes a drink, putting Jackie’s chin in his hand as he observes, quietly.

A smile, slightly twisted, sitting on his mouth.

No, no, no! screams Jackie. Get out of my head! Stop this, stop! Let me out! I won’t let you do this! I won’t let this happen! Anything but this! Anything but this!

“Jackie, help me,” snaps Marvin. “Why the hell are you sitting there? Chase, sit down, you don’t look well. Here, I’ll just get Henrik to the couch and then I’ll come back for - I’ll come back for - ”

Marvin is trying to rise, without success. He gasps through a sudden wave of dizziness, leaving him swaying on his knees. He lists to his side, placing a hand on the hard wood of the kitchen floor.

Above him, sitting at the island, Jackie’s eyes watch, calm.

“What is this?” whispers Marvin, as Chase topples to the ground, collapsing into darkness. “What have you done?”

A soft, breathy whimper falls from Jameson’s mouth. Terrified, Marvin looks up to see his baby brother fixated on Jackie’s face, still holding his peppermint chocolate, his mouth trembling.

He has many panic responses, but there is only one person who has ever made him freeze like that.

Anti, Anti, Anti. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t touch them. Don’t do this. My little brothers. Jaimer, run. Jaimer, I can’t get free.

“No,” pants Marvin. He tries, again, to get up. Power buzzes in the ends of his fingers. It feels so faraway, but at least it’s still here, still with him. “No, I warded this place myself. Warded Jackie myself. Hid everything, hid everyone. You can’t have found - you can’t be here - you - ”

“Aww,” says Jackie’s voice, but it is not Jackie, it is not Jackie. “Little kitty cat really thought he could keep me away.”

Fury pounds its way through Marvin’s chest. He groans, gritting his teeth. His hand reaches out to grab one of the shards of the plate and he digs it, hard, into his palm.

He can’t pass out. He can’t. He has to protect his family.

Jackie’s body hops down from the island and rounds the table. His mouth hums, halfway singing a song, ancient and lovely. Jameson backs away, one step, two. He has set his chocolate down on the counter. His cheeks are flushed, bright red against pale, sickly skin, as the poison filters into his blood.

“Oh, honey,” murmurs Anti. “How I’ve missed you. You were so bad to run away. I’m going to beat you til you forget your own name.”

“Uh, uh, uh!” Jameson tries desperately to vocalize, tears rising in his eyes. Trembling, he circles the island, his hands reaching out for the knife drawer by the sink, at Anti’s back.

“Nuh-uh-uh, I don’t think so,” sings Anti, following Jamie around the island. Marvin pants at Jackie’s feet, struggling to stay conscious. Summoning his power.

And Jackie thrashes within his own head, caged like a circus lion. Leave him alone! Leave him alone! LEAVE HIM ALONE!

“I don’t think I will,” Anti answers him, aloud. “I think my little lost lamb is going to come home with me - ”

He jerks forward around the island and Jameson jumps, stumbling against the kitchen table.

“Back where he belongs - ”

He leaps forward, scaring Jameson again, who crumples to the ground, scrambling backwards on his hands. His back is to Marvin, rising shakily back to his feet, palm bleeding from the earthenware shard.

“And stay with me forever, just like he was meant to do!” Anti grabs the collar of Jameson’s shirt and yanks him up. Jameson gasps, his head lolling back, his eyes flickering, his mouth open, desperate -

A blast of energy collides with Anti like an explosion and Jackie’s body is slammed into the wall, hard enough to punch a hole in it. Anti yelps, grabbing at the chunks of plaster on his face, leaping to his feet. Marvin is upon him a second later, driving his elbow into his nose, setting fire to his shirt, baring his fucking teeth like he’s about to bite, and Jackie, screaming pride and relief within his head, wouldn’t put it past him, not past his wild little brother, his ferocious little brother, kick my ass, Marvin, keep them safe, just like we always promised each other we would!

Marvin strikes Anti in the throat, making him choke, and he draws back again for another blow, aiming at his ribs, and Anti grabs the handle of the knife in his pocket and then -

There’s a second where it doesn’t even reach Jackie.

Where he is cut off from the world, too far away to register anything but a blur of terror, locked up, tight, in his own head.

And then he feels

Warmth

On his hands.

And he looks up and Marvin looks back, eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth open in a dry, desperate gasp.

“Marvin,” Jackie tries to say, and he feels the “M” make its way halfway out of his mouth.

“Jackie,” Marvin tries to answer, wheezing, but nothing but blood comes out.

Jackie looks down. There is a knife in his hands. There is a knife in Marvin’s chest.

“Jah - Jah - Jack - ”

“Marvin!”

Jackie screams it, screams it, screams like his heart is breaking, with his own mouth, his own voice, his own hands, reaching out to grab him as he crumples, blood soaking through his crisp white dress shirt, golden light illuminating him like a corpse in a wake, and above him, Jackie screams, and screams, and screams, holding the dagger buried in his little brother’s stomach, slicked in a flood of hot wet blood.

Somewhere, roaming free from the cage in the back of his head, Anti is shrieking with laughter.

[weirdmixofweirdness]

November Stream

What’s Happening?: Reading the following JSE one-shots from Dark Puppetry...

Puppet Carving by @beerecordings 

The Art of Persuasion by @spicydanhowell

The Oracle by @plutoandpolaris 

When: November 30 at 7:00 pm EST

Where: My Twitch channel (weirdmix17)

Please tune in, if you can. If you can’t, then spread the word!

[lum1natrix]

lumi i'm drunk. show me something cute to make me cry ily

cute things incoming

[lilakennedy]

i totally agree. i used to love it here and now i'm like.... sean please.... i don't recognize you dude. still like some videos and stuff though idk i have good friends here and stuff.

i’m glad we agree!! and from what i can tell many people don’t recognize him anymore, either.

and i think the think that’s keeping me in the community (or what’s left of it) are the creators and mutuals i got. there are still amazing creators that do mindblowing shit even as the community is hanging on by a thread.

[plutoandpolaris]

17 and 19 together uwu maybe with... marvin? :o

“Tell me everything about you. Unless you want me to discover it for myself.”

“Your hair is so warm. I love the smell, too. The others don’t smell like this.”

(Tw: dehumanization (if it’s experimenter!anti, expect this off the get-go. He’s a freaky bastard) teeth pulling mention, branding mention, nails, wounds/blood, drugs, restraints, gags)

His head was stuffed with cotton, every muscle in his body unwound like a sunbathing snake, leaning heavily against Anti’s chest, curled into the corner of his little cell. From the outside he looked peaceful, even comfortable, but everything within him burned with righteous rage.

Anti was caressing him, running his hands over the intricate brands dappling his arms. Binding sigils, keeping his magic trapped within him, taken from Marvin’s own spellbooks and seared upon his skin against his will.

Though he seemed calm enough; the diazepam was sure to have kicked in by then; Anti still had him gagged, a small washcloth shoved into his mouth, forcing his teeth apart.

Marvin always was a violent little street cat.

In the beginning, he would hiss and scratch at his captor, trying on several occasions to gouge his eyes out when he got too close. Anti had several small scars around his eyes and cheeks to prove it.

Like many things regarding his subject’s reactions to his experiments, however, this too had a surprisingly simple solution. He’d filed down the magician’s nails until they nearly bled and chained him to his bed frame for months at a time, threatening to cut off his fingers if he tried it again.

He never did.

But yet, Anti’s troubles didn’t stop there. Unlike his less assertive brothers, Marvin didn’t give up his quest to mutilate the demon beyond repair. He switched to trying to bite Anti, or creating small knives out of pieces of metal he managed to pry from his bed frame or the door and attacking him when he came in to check the room, resulting in a small scar on his wrist and another on his chest, stretching from his collarbone to the bottom of his rib cage

In a word, 004 was the source of most of Anti’s headaches. But yet, he was the demon’s favorite.

The fire in his eyes and the pure hatred in his heart reminded Anti so much of himself. Out of all the useless little vessels Sean had left for him, Marvin was the only one he could see himself calling a brother. The magician obviously didn’t agree with that sentiment, but since when did that matter?

He continued to pet him, shifting his attention from Marvin’s arms up to his hair, running a careful hand through it. Unlike the others, Anti’d allowed it to stay long, reaching nearly down to the square of Marvin’s back. It was only barely to his shoulders when he was taken.

“Your hair is so warm, I love the smell too. None of the others smell like this.”

It was true. Each of the others had their own smell, their own aura, and Mavin’s was the most interesting. Unlike the others, who had mostly begun smelling of soap and blood and despair, Marvin smelled of crackling lightning, fire, unimaginable power, hidden under the pale, scarred surface of his skin. Power Anti had locked away for the moment he was finally able to claim it for himself.

Marvin, for his part, wanted nothing more than to crack Anti’s head against the stone wall until his brain turned to water, but he couldn’t will himself to move, comfortable and nearly asleep in Anti’s arms.

“Tell me everything about you, kitten. About the power you’re hiding in this fragile little shell.” He leaned in, tightening his hands uncomfortably on the sides of Marvin’s head.

“Or, I can find it out for myself. Sink my claws into your head and take it out by force.”

“Your choice.”

He tore the gag from Marvin’s mouth, replacing it with one of his own hands, hooking his fingers onto the side of the magician’s jaw and pulling his mouth open far wider than it was ever meant to be. He ran the pads of his fingers over the sharp edges of Marvin’s canines and incisors, each one and a half centimeters in length. He’d measured based on the deep teeth marks in his hand Marvin caused last spring.

“And if you bite me again, I’ll rip out your teeth one by one and make your brothers fucking eat them.”

-

I measured my own teeth with a ruler for this since the internet apparently couldn’t tell me how long a tooth is, I hOPE YOU APPRECIATE IT 😂.

@beerecordings

Prompts

[jaeyleo]

3 and 12 with henrik, jackie and marvin

edit: this fic is old, jackie is not a teenager in this!

3: “Hold them down.” 12: “I know that you’re scared.”

“Henrik, just look at me, okay?”

Johnny held his hands out, slowly stepping toward the previously puppeteered doctor. Warm brown eyes held captive the terrified, tear streaming blue, keeping all of his attention in one place.

“Do you know who I am?” Johnny asked, halting his careful steps for a moment as the doctor looked more threatened the closer he got.

“Jonathan,” the doctor replied, clutching the syringe in his hand a little tighter. His reddened eyes were staring down the hero, though periodically snapping toward any outside noise he so happened to hear— or at least, thought to hear.

“Good, good,” John said, relieved to know he had at least that. His eyes kept glancing down to the syringe and the liquid it held inside, his expression showing only a fraction of his fear. Of course Henrik had to grab a needle. Of course he did.

“I know that you’re scared,” John began, daring to take another small step. “But I promise you, he’s gone. You’re okay now, I’m just- I’m here to help you, okay? You’re safe, buddy.”

“Safe,” Henrik whispered once, twice, three times, seeming as if he were going to lower the syringe before his eyes caught the sight of Anti. Standing against the wall, hands at his sides, behind Jonathan.

Henrik’s breathing picked up and he raised the syringe, bloodshot eyes staring down the monster as more tears streamed down his face. “Pseudo.” he said, pointing at the monster. “Not safe! Liar!”

“No no!” Johnny stammered. “That’s Marvin! That’s not Pseudo, buddy. See his hair? And his sweater? That’s Marvin, that’s all Marvin.”

“Jonathan,” Henrik said, reaching a hand out to him as he saw the man begin to smile, an ocean of black blood pouring from his neck and staining the white t- shirt he knew he saw. Marvin doesn’t look like that. Marvin doesn’t smile like that. Marvin doesn’t have black blood, Henrik knows it!

John stepped a little closer, and so did Pseudo.

“Jonathan,” Henrik repeated, his voice breaking, hand still reached out toward the hero. “He is not Marvin...! He is not!”

“Wait,” Johnny whispered, and the monster followed his order. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe with me, just look at me. Don’t look at him, look at me.”

Slowly, as John got closer, the doctor tore his eyes from Pseudo. He could never keep them away for more than a second, but it was eventually two seconds, and three, now four, until his eyes were just on Jonathan. Just on Jonathan.

The hero gently grasped Henrik’s hand, coaxing him to give up the syringe as well. Johnny tossed it to the ground, flicking his hand up a bit to let it levitate, then softly touch the wooden floor. There should be no sudden noises when a puppet first gets his strings cut. Henrik always said that.

Henrik shut his eyes for only a moment, letting Jonathan wrap his arms around him in a safe, tight tight hug. In a moment of fear he opened his eyes again, staring back at Pseudo...

Back

Back at Pseudo....

“He is gone..!” Henrik shouted, whipping his body around to look, look, look! But he can’t break free from John’s body.

“Hold him down!” Pseudo shouts, and before Henrik can grasp onto the words he is swept onto the ground and being held in place by Jonathan, wrists pressed hard into the ground and his friend sitting sideways on his legs to keep him from moving.

Henrik is screaming now, screaming and screaming and screaming and thrashing in place trying to be set free. He can’t be a puppet again, he won’t do it! He won’t!

“Shh, shh,” Johnny soothed, as Pseudo’s hand gently set onto his forehead. “It’s okay, Henrik, it’s- y- you’re okay.”

Soon Henrik is still, mumbling, pleading, whimpering, and sobbing, clinging to Jonathan’s shirt as he feels himself scooped up into another hug, drifting down to sleep in Marvin’s spell.

[astraltrain]

i filter out your gorillaz posts cause its a lot so i very frequently forget that i like gorillaz???

kdhdhddh oh shit? ur so valid and yeah i do post a lot of gorillaz shit dkdbdh old hyperfixations never die with me 👊😔

[my-brothers-corrupted]

blue, dok, i'm so sorry about what happened to you. this isn't forever.

“It is Anti, finally!” cheers Trick, leaping up onto the windowsill and watching for him to reach the door, waving at the trio of brothers coming up the way. “Look, Red’s doing his dreamy thing again.”

Blue and Dok exchange looks, Dok moving to support him again. Blue hides against his hair for a second, breathing in the smell of him again.

“This isn’t forever,” Dok repeats quietly.

“One month, right?” Blue grips his hand.

“One month. I’m with you.”

“I’m with you. I’m here.”

[breakingsomething]

“we can talk through the door.” marvin and jackie :'(

"jackie?"

jackie shook his head despite mag not being able to see him. his body trembled with sobs, and he held both hands tightly over his mouth, trying to muffle the noise. tears rolled down his cheeks and landed on his jeans. he just watched them, eyes wide.

shuffling from the other side of the door. "hey, uh, i- i'm sorry. i didn't know that would...upset you." he heard mag clear his throat. "can i- do you want me to come in?"

"no." 

"that's ok, we can talk through the door." there was a silence, and jackie cursed himself for being so sensitive, for crying like a little bitch in front of mag. he was supposed to be looking out for him, but all he'd done was make him feel like shit. what a great older brother he was.

"mag, i… sorry for freaking out." he let out a small, shuddering gasp, and let his eyes flutter closed. "i'm- i've always been- when there's people, but not a lot of people, but still enough that there's too many for...i don't know how to explain. shit." jackie opened his eyes and looked at his knees.

"hey, it's ok." mag knocked his head against the door. "i shouldn't have- i should have told you i was bringing people round earlier. really, i'm sorry, i didn't know…"

"s'okay," jackie muttered, curling up and burying his face in his knees. god, he was pathetic, having a complete breakdown over a few people in their house- what was wrong with him? he sniffed and pulled a tissue from his pocket to blow his nose on.

more silence. jackie's head was beginning to ache from crying, but he didn't care. get up, comfort your brother, stop wallowing in your own head. he pushed himself shakily to his feet, and pulled the door open to reveal mag on the other side. he had been leaning against the door, and stared up at jackie from his position on the floor.

"sorry for-" both of them said in unison, and they laugh, jackie pulling mag to his feet. he holds onto his hand, even after they're standing.

"maybe- maybe we should talk more," mag said awkwardly. he stares at the floor. "i feel like there may be… a few communication issues between us at the moment."

jackie snorted. "you think?"

mag looked up and smiles. "ok, so it's settled. uh, we can go sit in the kitchen and talk if you want? talk about anything?"

jackie frowned. he wasn't sure about the idea of opening up to his little brother, after so long of hiding how he felt, but maybe it would do them some good. "sure," he said. "talk about anything."

[glixbitch]

gina i will unfriend you irl if you say mean things about my son istg jamie getting possessed is Bad. Bad. you're grounded now, sit in the corner.

no no lau you’re not understanding this is the good shit-

[beerecordings]

i didn't wanna reblog that post cause wowow triggering but i wanted to add: what if marvin became so distraught with guilt from hurting jamie that he had a complete nervous breakdown? none of the others will leave him alone because he's acting so strangely and having panic attacks and breaking things and punching the walls until he breaks his fingers. now nobody will leave marvin alone long enough to go take care of jamie hhhh. jamie ends up going hungry for days and gets sick and fjdlsfnv

y e s precisely

Marvin is so revolted by his own actions he just quits taking care of himself and can’t. stop. thinking about it. what i was saying in the post i was thinking like he makes himself physically ill but dude he could totally just have a complete breakdown too. and he hides it as first because he does NOT want his brothers poking into all the reasons he’s so stressed and pissed off and anxious and distressed all the time. He’s like snapping at them to back the fuck off, isolating himself with his door locked (not that that stops Jackie from bursting in to check on him). but then one day Jackie comes into his room while he’s away with Jameson and just loses it from the stress - Marvin has been acting so weird and so miserable lately that Jackie’s first thought is that he’s gone off to kill himself. and then Marvin comes back from being with Jameson, so he’s already stressed af, and he finds Jackie in his room just sobbing his heart out, and Marvin breaks down the fucking middle. this is literally too much for him to handle. he flips out and starts screaming, he doesn’t even know why.

it takes like hours to calm him down and he’s still freaked the fuck out. he cannot get his heart to settle or this adrenaline to stop pumping no matter what he does. and he knows how pathetic he probably looks right now, he knows he’s terrifying all of his brothers, but he just can’t take it anymore, so finally he folds and lets himself just be weak for a while. so Chase is lying next to him talking to him about nothing and everything, and Henrik is giving him calmatives and checking his pulse and everything, and Jackie’s promising he’ll keep him safe and trying to make him tell him what’s wrong. so Marvin makes up some story about an asshole boyfriend who’s been trucking with his feelings, and that makes sense to everyone enough that they stop asking, and Jackie’s out on the town hunting this jerk down, but he can’t find him cause he isn’t real.

but days pass and Marvin is getting worse. he can’t stop thinking about it. nothing makes him happy?? what the fuck is happening to him? no STOP replaying that image of Jameson crying over and over again, you’re supposed to be tough enough to handle this, you did what you had to do, you did what no one else had the guts to do and you kept them safe, you kept your hero and your healer and your baby brother safe - the only baby brother that matters, Chase is the only one that matters, have you ever noticed how much he looks like JJ??? have you ever noticed that?? not just in the actual shape of the face they all share, but something about his eyes, something about his smile, something about the way he looks after Marvin and loves him so fucking hard even though he doesn’t deserve it, fuck what would he do if someone caged Chase up like that his whole life, he’d kill anyone who even tried, how can he be doing this, he did what he had to do -

he’s throwing up and nightmaring and shouting at his brothers and won’t let Chase out of his sights. by the time he’s developed a bad fever and started up with compulsions like scratching at arms and hiding all the mirrors in the house, Henrik’s like “okay, what the fuck, time to get a neurologist on board” and he takes him to the hospital or they start watching him really closely. poor boy is basically on suicide watch at the house, and you’re absolutely right - no one is letting him out of their sights in that condition, so he can’t get back to Jameson.

Jameson wouldn’t complain or anything. Most likely when the pain got bad he’d just curl up in the corner and try to sleep. Put the toy banana away so he doesn’t have to look at it. Chew on his tongue until it bled and drink water out of the sink like a cat. when Marvin finally came back, he probably wouldn’t even perk up, cause now he’s adjusted to not expecting food, and he barely notices the way Marvin comes and goes anymore. certainly he does not notice the blue circles of stress around his eyes or the way he shakes when he looks at him. He eats hungrily, desperately, nearly choking. Marvin can’t bear to watch. He’s the one who did this to him.

he would bring him extra food though, and all his favorite snacks, so at least there’s that. milkshakes, even. Jameson loves chocolate milkshakes with chunks of toffee mixed in. Marvin can’t even smile when he hears him whistling his happy song for it, as though he wasn’t starving to death only hours ago, as if he isn’t sick as a dog from the hunger and the loneliness.

[weirdmixofweirdness]

Thank you to @snow-lavender , @spicydanhowell , and @florenceisfalling for watching my stream. I had a great time talking with and reading stories to you guys! I hope to do something bigger next month and will give you the details as they develop.

I’d also like to thank @beerecordings , @plutoandpolaris , and @spicydanhowell (again) for allowing me to read your stories. It was a pleasure to read stuff from such talented people. I can’t wait to do it again!

[lum1natrix]

lumi, darling, you are an exquisite light in this dark, bleak soul of mine. god's most beautiful creation or something. give me your lungs.

come and take my lungs yourself. do it, you won’t