Honestly thought I died like a year ago, don’t know why or how I’m still here. Marc or else Steven or else Jake. DID, we go by Asylum System. 100% Jewish. Married on paper and an ass in practice. Probably like 40 by now.
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Companion blog married to the lovely @layla-el-faouly because she said yes and I married her no I don’t know how it happened either.
This blog is mostly for me, Steven and Jake may pop up now and then but they have their own accounts.
Chock full of headcanons and exploration of my life after I left Khonshu. Any inaccuracies or misconceptions of DID are the OPs fault as they don’t have it.
I’m just like their fanfic me if it had a tumblr blog, honestly. Fourth wall respected here and there but overall…
I use the tag #half in character to designate things that Marc wouldn’t be self aware or confident enough to post but that still apply to him, or meta stuff, and #lore tag is for posts with big AU relevant headcanons.
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Anons: 🪲 — ☘️ — 🫐 — 🌕🌊 — 🍿 — 🖤 — 💾 — 🌹
You send more than one ask with an emoji attached and I’ll add you to the list.
[Jake scoffs, crossing his arms and smirking] I know everything about you Marc. Especially all the crushes you've had- but I get how embarrassin' that must be for you so I won't bring it up
Warning: mentions of abuse, child neglect, suicidal ideation, angst
Rating: T
Words: 1k
Notes: To the anon that was asking about the banner yeah this is why this is the reason
Marc has a deep bittersweet love for wintertime and this is one of his most vibrant childhood memories in this AU
Proofread by @layla-elfaouly
“Marc, put your dishes in the sink.”
Wendy gave Marc’s arm a pat and Marc swallowed the last of his orange juice and nodded.
“Both your dishes.” She amended as he started to get up with his plate and glass.
He heard the cookie tub open and kept his eyes on the tap, water running over his brother’s plate. He hadn’t been good enough this week. Their room wasn’t clean. One of his grades was lower. He spent too long in the bath yesterday.
“Hey Roro you wanna go out?” He ignored that he was still chewing, pulling himself into the seat next to him. “We can build castles or towers or draw pictures. You like to draw it’d be cool to draw in the snow.”
“Don’t talk so much, let your brother get a word in.”
Marc pressed his lips together, frowning. He knew better than to say anything more.
“You play nice.” She said, just to him. “Keep your hats and gloves on, and–”
“Keep an eye on him.” Marc nodded once quickly.
“Okay. Go have fun.”
Marc stood in the foyer, waiting for Randall to get his second boot on.
Their mother passed from the kitchen to the living room and Marc quickly dropped to his knees, undoing the strap and shoving his brother’s heel down into it.
He helped him with his zipper and opened the door to the bright white cold of the outside.
Marc had to run down the shoveled path to catch up with Randall as he darted off down the sidewalk to where the snow was piled high on the corner, around the street sign.
Marc marched up and climbed, feet and hands up the packed pile.
It’s strategy. Militant. Randall has one side of the bank and he has the other. The goal was to plant your hat on the end of the sign poking up, as Marc demonstrated.
The goal was to pelt the other with as much snow as possible.
Marc could get his hat back on the sign, at any time, really, he didn’t want to.
He wanted to get him, but it wasn’t working. Randall loved snow. He loved feeling it stinging his skin. So Marc got closer, hit harder. He shoved him. Made flurries burst against him. Coated him in flakes.
Randall called for timeout. He got his glove string caught in the loop of his coat tag when Marc tackled him into the hill, pinning his arms. Marc made him shout for it before he let him up.
He offered to get it for him and Randall shook his head, so he just shrugged and walked back down to his nearly empty stash, gathering a flaky clump to crush into another ball.
Marc heard the car before he saw it, and looked up, expecting to see Randall next to him, backing up out of the way. Instead he was smack in the middle of the road fiddling with his hood, trying to get it back on.
Marc felt his blood rushing in his neck. Heard the buckle jingle and the leather snap. ‘Keep an eye on your brother’ and he had looked away.
He dove forward and got his arms firmly around his brother’s torso and threw the both of them back, tumbling into the packed bank lining the curb as the car barreled past through the slush, inches from their feet.
He breathed out hard, deflating but keeping his arms locked around Randall’s body.
“Roro!” His voice was broken, dry. “You can’t do that! You can’t go out in the street, you’re gonna get hit by a car and your brains are gonna go everywhere–!”
Marc gasped sharply and his eyes went wide as an ice cold splat of snow hit his neck and chin, quickly soaking down his scarf and into his shirt collar.
“Got you.” Randall grinned and Marc stared as his brother’s earmuffs, dappled with half melted snowflakes, then he scooped up a big handful of snow and stuffed it down the front of Randall’s snowsuit.
Randall shrieked delightedly and wiggled out of Marc’s hold to grab another handful of snow.
Marc nearly tripped getting up and back out into the vacant street after Randall, where they continued their snowball fight with huge smiles on their faces.
Marc stands on that street. The menorahs are visible in the windows, unlit, waiting. Two hundred feet from him is where he sat with his brother in his arms over a decade ago.
His feet are stuck. Around that bend is his home, his parents. But it wasn’t his home anymore, and he may as well not have parents for how things have been turning out.
Uncaring, he drops and lays back in the snow, coat bunching.
The sky is gray hanging above him, full, but empty. He turns his head into the sting of the packed cold, the embrace he wishes would chill him to the bone and free every cell of him from the warm weight of regret.
He wants to cool down completely. Never get warm again.
Maybe not death. Just stillness.
He doesn’t want warming his frigid toes by the radiator, thick champurrados scalding their tongues. He doesn’t want the belt cracking against his bare skin.
It’s broken up. How happy he was. In pieces. Roro told mom everything. He always did. Not the car. The holding him down, hitting him with snow. Marc hadn’t slept, in silent sobs all night.
It’s nearly dark when he shakes his head and sits up. His shoulders and quads feel like they’re full of icicles but it’s easy enough to ignore.
He looks down the street again. A little girl walking with her mom stares at him. A car passes. Marc feels Randall’s earmuffs against his cheek and presses his eyes shut against the sensation.
He pulls his knees up as the street lamps start to come on and hums the Hanukkah song he remembers best.
This is the fourth time he’s tried to come back home. It wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t be in the same room as her again.
His nose and cheeks are numb. He stands and wipes his lip, a little blood smearing his glove. He shakes his head.
Still alive by the way, actually Mel changed passwords and couldn’t get it to me for a little while. Okay a long while. But I’m here! Screwing around wondering where the frick I left the plot. Soon soon. Love you and thank you for all the stuff you’ve left I’ll be going through it <3
Hey I’m still alive life is continuing to kick my ass i don’t really want to get into it but I’m still alive thankfully I just wanted to update love you all and thank you
Well that’s the worst part of my year over with. I’m really sorry everyone, but it looks like I’m not gonna be back… till next year. This blog was my number one source of joy through some of the shittiest months of my life. Hope you had a great holiday season and see you soon!
Having a hard time keeping up with stuff between my mom saying I need to spend less time online or she will cut me off the network to half the Moon Knight fandom having me blocked and most of my friends on with other things or on hiatus and all the holiday stress I’m just not as enthused about all this. I’m still gonna be around but I’m going through some shit. Thanks everyone.
