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i-will-physically-fight-you · 3 years

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Gibbous Chapter 9

Chapter Title: The Thought of Fresh Meat Is Making Me Ill

Summary: It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic sleepxiety

Chapter Word-Count: 5503

Warnings: Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Disassociation, Sensory Overload (Yeah this one isn't gonna be a particularly happy one, Virgil Is Spiraling Mentally Big Time)

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Surprise b*tch, bet you thought you saw the last of me! I'm back for my yearly update--this chapter is dedicated to all the lovely comments people have left on previous chapter! Also!! I rewrote a significant amount of Crescent Chapter 3 and added onto Gibbous Chapter 5, the latter you might want to reread as it adds a bit to the opening scene of this chapter.

Chapter title taken from "I know I'm a Wolf" from the Young Heretics!

In books, there was always a perfect, logical sense of progression. Stories were generally told in a three-act structure. The setup, the midpoint and the resolution. The beginning of a story established the protagonist to the reader. It gave you details about their personality, their way of living, their wants and desires. Then the protagonist found themselves upended by an inciting incident.

Something that caused their way of living to never again be the same. Tension grew and grew as they sought to come about a way to continue living. Until it reached a climax, one where after which, they either thrived or withered away. In which case, the story ended as the protagonist returned to a new sense of normalcy.

One that would last until the next inciting incident came along to shake up their world once again.

Once one found this pattern, it was hard to ever see stories the same way again. There were certain things to always expect—things you could decipher before the story’s end. Real life, however, wasn’t quite like that.

Or at least this was what Logan had come to find. Sure, in many ways events in life played out like stories. There was an inciting incident, something that arose tension as one sought to solve the dilemma. It just wasn’t as neatly bound together like a story or even a math equation. Life was messy, complicated—it threw in plot twists or details that critics would claim lazy and unbelievable.

Logan was harshly reminded of this in the case of one Virgil Raine. He couldn’t understand—he was doing everything right, remaining patient and giving Virgil a chance to open up to Logan on his own time. Yet the human shied further and further away, all development he made since working at the library immediately erased. Virgil even shut out all notions of spending time outside work without explanation. It’d been weeks at this point with no result despite the attempts of Logan, Patton and even Remy, who was arguably the closet with Virgil.

Perhaps this was something that should be expected. Virgil rarely spoke about his past, but what little he shared, he had to fend mostly for his own from a young age. Whoever hurt Virgil caused him to believe again he couldn't rely on anyone but himself.

Logan was not a particularly violent person. He'd been ignorantly cruel once upon a time, yes, but even back then he wasn't one to have the urge to kill people. The wolfish part of him begged to differ, as always. His instincts howled at him to find that person and tear them limb to limb. Better yet, they demanded he snatch Virgil away and bring him against his will to the pack, to safety. As much as Logan wanted this, logically he knew Virgil might never fully trust Patton or himself ever again despite their good intentions. Illogically, he couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing he swore he’d never do again, even if it was for Virgil's safety.

He pondered this, sitting in front of a mountain of paperwork. It was late, too late for him to still be at the library. He couldn’t bring himself to move from his desk, not until he figured something out. He gnashed sharpened teeth in agitation, gripping his hair with claw-like fingernails. It didn't help that normally this time of the month, his cognitive thinking skills were usually in a different state of being. If he wasn't careful, the cleaning staff might find a wolf rampant in the library the next morning.

His phone rang just then, some meme-related ringtone Roman picked out that he’d found funny. Logan snatched it up and answered it.

“Patton, listen, I will be home soon I am just finishing up—”

“I’m not Patton,” The person on the other line cut in, “It’s me, Remy.”

“Oh,” Logan cleared his throat, thrown off by this revelation, “is something the matter?”

“Yeah, something’s the matter alright,” Remy said, his voice hoarse, “I fucked up big time with Virgil.”

It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

He supposed it had something to do with how September slipped from his fingers much in the way that his phone slipped from Jerad’s fingers. Falling all the way down, down, down, breaking upon the asphalt below into a million tiny pieces. Tried as he might, the memory haunted him in the waking world as well as his dreams.

Only, in his dreams, sometimes it was him that fell to the ground. Like a shoddy version of Humpty Dumpty. Remy, Patton and Logan would try to fix him to no avail. They’d always leave, scoffing that it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t cry or reach out towards them, begging for them to return. He could only lay there, broken and bleeding, watching as they abandoned him. Sometimes Roman showed up to gloat, mocking him for thinking they ever cared for him.

The worst thing about it? He knew it was going to happen in real life. It was only a matter of time. Even Jerad knew this.

“C’mon, you really want to hang out with them and not me, your friend?” Jerad scoffed, “what have they done for you? Have they helped out you when you couldn’t pay rent? Replaced your shitty phone for the best smartphone out there?”

“Well no but—”

“Face it, V-Man, they’re using you. They set you up with a new job, making you beholden to them and it’s sickening! They don’t actually care about you. Once they’ve had their fun jerking you around, they’ll just throw you out with the garbage. And I don’t want you coming to me, bawling like a baby, when it happens!”

As much as Jerad was a jerk, Virgil knew deep down he was right. He’d been so ecstatic at their displays of friendship, he didn’t even stop to consider it was all a façade. Maybe they themselves thought it was real, that they actually cared for him. But eventually they’ll realize the truth. That he’s a loser and nothing more.

Or maybe they already knew the truth and were merely toying with him. Virgil was just a human, mortal through and through. Remy, Patton and Logan were all near-immortal, unkillable save a well-placed piece of silver and a stake of wood in Remy’s case. At least with Jerad, he was honest. He knew Virgil was a loser and made it clear he only hung out with Virgil because it was better than nothing.

Jerad had been nice to Virgil lately—or nice as Jerad could be at least. He’d insisted on occasionally giving Virgil rides to and from work. An offer Virgil couldn’t refuse—no matter how hard his heart thudded against his chest with Jerad’s sharp swerves and his blaring car radio. He taken to asking about Virgil’s day even, asking where he’d been and what he’d been doing. He even took Virgil out to bars and clubs in an attempt to get him to loosen up.

Virgil wanted to tell him he’d rather set himself on fire than willingly enter a noisy nightclub. However every time his lips went to form those words, he found himself saying yes always. So that was how he found himself dissociating in a noisy nightclub, holding onto a pink-colored alcoholic beverage he faked taking a sip from.

A hand knocked jokingly against his forehead. “Yo, Virgin!”

Virgil blinked, his gaze blearily onto Jerad. It was hard to concentrate with all the flashing lights and loud music. He wanted to crawl underneath his beloved purple fleece blanket in his dark, silent bedroom and never leave. But he couldn’t leave just yet. Jerad had been nice to take him along to the club. If he’d asked leave now, he’d get upset. He knew eventually Jerad would get upset at him for something, but he preferred to delay that as long as possible.

“Yeah?” Virgil mumbled, curling his fingers tighter around the alcoholic drink that had been hoisted upon him. Jerad knew he didn’t like alcohol—it was something he ridiculed Virgil about constantly. He always insisted on Virgil drinking, saying he’d stop being a pussy and man up eventually about it.

“Are you high or something? You looked like you were seeing into the third dimension or something.”

Virgil shrugged. Jerad laughed at that, patting him on the back. Virgil tensed from each thud of Jerad’s hand, but he did not flinch or move away. It was a friendly gesture on Jerad’s part. If he wanted to really hurt Virgil, he would’ve put more force behind it.

“Probably not! You’re too much of an anxious wimp,” Jerad said, downing the contents of his drink, “but let me know if you ever get man enough to try it—your good friend Jerad has connections.”

“Okay.” Virgil said, his voice sounding far off in the distance to his own ears.

Jerad laughed again, and then started rambling about something probably among the lines of his most recent hookup, his parents being jerks for not giving him a new sports car or the latest college professor he deemed a complete idiot. Virgil stared at him, nodding all the right moments yet barely processed any of the words being directed his way.

Even with lungs filled with air and a warm beating heart, Virgil felt nothing. He was nothing. A worthless sentient waste of space. Like an ugly mutt nobody wanted that should be euthanized to end its miserable existence.

His phone—the replacement one Jerad gave him—vibrated in his pocket. A text, no doubt from one of the others. The fourth one this night. Virgil’s hand twitched, refraining from looking at it in the presence of Jerad. Virgil didn’t feel like losing a second phone within a month of the first.

“Um, hey,” Virgil interrupted, wincing, “I gotta go use the bathroom, is that alright?”

“’Is that alright?’” Jerad mimicked in a high pitch tone, “Dude, is this elementary school or something? You want a hall pass? Me to hold your hand the whole way there?”

Virgil stared at him.

Jerad rolled his eyes, “Go ahead, whatever. I don’t care if you take a dump, just be quick with it.”

“Thanks.” Virgil bit out, running off before Jerad could change his mind.

He twisted and pivoted around the crowd of sweaty, glistening bodies wearing skimpy clothing. The bright neon lights and loud music warped around him like something out of a nightmare. Eventually he made it to the restrooms and locked himself in the nearest stall. The pulse of his heart roaring in his ears, he drew the phone of his pocket.

Four New Text Notifications from Patton

Patton: [Image of a black cat that looked approximately a year old. It appeared to be nestled close to Patton’s chest, staring up at the camera in wide-eyed stare.]

Patton: Look at what I found on my evening walk! Isn’t she the cutest??

Patton: I’m trying to convince Logan to let me keep her. Maybe you can come visit tomorrow and meet her??

Patton: It’s ok if not! I know you’ve been busy and I want to let you know I’m here for you, you can come to me about anything okay?

Virgil’s vision blurred a bit. He didn’t understand it. Why hadn’t Patton given up already? It’s been weeks since he’s sent Patton a text. He’d been terrified, too, really. And in the few times he ran into Patton at the library, he made excuses and scurried the other way.

Logan was at least kind enough to exchange a few pleasantries and keep their verbal interactions work-oriented. And Remy? They still delved deep into discussions about their taste in music but there was an awkward unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened that one morning. Virgil also shied from hanging outside of work, hoping Remy would eventually forget about him. It seemed to be working; Remy hadn’t offered to hang out in about a week or so.

But Patton? Patton seemed determined to stay in contact with Virgil, sending his dumb silly memes and cute animal videos. He sent good morning and good night texts, while making sure Virgil knew he could respond to them on his own time. On one hand, it made sense—this was the same Patton who saved a complete stranger’s life for literally no reason. On the other hand, he wished Patton would give up. It would made things easier, make it hurt less for everyone.

His phone buzzed with a new text notification.

Jerad: Dude, did you fall in or something?

Virgil swallowed, wiping away any stupid tears running down his face. As he typed a response to Jerad with shaky hands, the bathroom door slammed open, banging against the wall. He almost dropped his phone in the process, silently cursing at how close he’d been to breaking yet another phone.

Several loud booming voices filled the bathroom, peppered with obnoxious laughter every half second. Virgil shut his eyes, resisting the urge to cover his ears also in the process. The noise was too much. It was too much in the club outside, but all those voices echoing off the small crammed walls of the bathroom made Virgil want to scream.

The door creaked open yet again, the voices venturing away from Virgil. Good, they were leaving so Virgil could finally self-destruct in peace. Or so he thought, as a set of footsteps stopped abruptly, wavering. The club music blasted from the doorway, drowning out whatever discussion took place.

Then the door swung shut, the roaring club music muted once more. Virgil waited, breath catching in his throat as the single set of footsteps took a couple strides towards him. Oh god, this was how he was going to die, wasn’t he? This was probably some serial killer with an obsession of killing people in night club restrooms.

This was, of course, the moment his phone started vibrating in his hand. A call. Someone was calling him in the final moments of his life. Virgil looked down at the caller id; Remy. His heartrate spiked, dancing so painfully close to what a heart attack must feel like. Why was Remy calling him? Was he at last going to tell him he was done with Virgil forever?

Virgil almost wanted to ignore the call. But then he glanced at the black boots hovering near his stall and gave it a second thought. If this was going to be how his life ended, it’d probably be best to say goodbye to someone at least. Sucking a breath in, he pressed the green phone icon and held the phone to his ears.

“Hi?” He whispered.

“Hey Virgil,” Remy said, echoing oddly in Virgil’s ears, “what are you up to tonight?”

Virgil glanced down at the black boots menacingly close to his stall, “Umm, I’m just home, chilling.”

“That’s a lie, Hon. I know you’re hiding in a stall of this bathroom.”

“W-what are you talking about?” Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Remy sighed, sounding so similar to the person outside the stall, “Please, let’s talk face to face, alright?”

This was some sort of trick to lure him out of the stall, wasn’t it? Still, with the hand not clutching tightly to his phone, he reached out and unlatched the stall door.

Remy stood there, expression hidden under his black shades. His hair was slicked back with gel, shimmering with a glitter of some sort. He wore his iconic black leather jacket with a black crop top underneath. His whole outfit was black, in fact, down to his ripped jeans and the ankle-length boots. Virgil had seen him wear something similar before to a college event he’d taken Virgil to.

“W-what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded.

“I could ask you the same,” Remy responded, eyebrows raised above his shades, “this isn’t your scene, Virge. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not answering unless you answer.” Virgil said, trying to ignore how much he sounded like a toddler.

“A few of my homies from the art program wanted to celebrate the end of mid-terms. This is the night club most of the college body hangs at.” Remy crossed his arms.

“And how did you know I was in here?”

“A few keen observations,” Remy mustered a thin smile. He tapped his nose for emphasis before drawing his finger close to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened in understanding. Vampire senses, then. “But mostly, I’d recognize those faded converse of yours anywhere.”

“O-oh.”

“I answered your question, now it’s your turn, Virge.”

“I…” Virgil said, the rest of his words strangled in his throat. His phone buzzed in his hand; another impatient text from Jerad no doubt. He didn’t bother to look at it, choosing to focus on taking a breath in rather than going unconscious from a lack of oxygen.

He could tell Remy the truth. That he’d gone with Jerad—his roommate whom he used to complain to Remy about all the time. But then Remy would ask why he was with Jerad and then—well. Then Virgil would have tell him what happened the time he found him the night his phone broke and well, Virgil wasn’t ready for that. He couldn’t tell Remy about his humiliating mistake.

“I…went here to have a good time completely by myself.” Virgil withheld himself from wincing because wow that didn’t sound weird or suspicious in the slightest, “So you can go catch up with your friends or whatever, I’m good hanging out right here.”

“Right here, in the restroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Honey,” Remy said, his voice washed with some emotion Virgil couldn’t identify, “Let’s ditch this shithole and go somewhere else.”

“W-what—but your friends—” Virgil stammered.

“—will be fine without me. N-G-L they’ll probably too trying to give themselves alcohol poison even realize I’m gone,” Remy shrugged his shoulders, “besides, you don’t seem as gucci as you say you are in here and it’s been a while since we really hung out hung out, y’know?”

Virgil stubbornly directed his gaze away from Remy, jaw tightening. It had to be okay, didn’t it? Jerad was most likely to get too drunk to even coherent colors, let alone that Virgil slipped off without him. Maybe he wouldn’t be mad. Maybe he wouldn’t fly into a rage and come close to hanging him off a balcony. Besides Remy would be even more suspicious if he said no.

Virgil sighed, holding the home button on the phone until it shut off completely. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with Jerad calling him, demanding to know where he’d disappear off to, despite ditching Virgil all the time without warning.

“Alright, fine.”

Remy smiled, his teeth looking a little too sharp for Virgil’s liking. Wordlessly he turned aside and reached for the bathroom door.

Virgil swallowed, shoving the phone in his pocket to be forgotten about. Tried as he might, he still flinched as lively blare of the club’s music and flashing lights greeted him with full force. He froze, cowering before the threshold of the door. A hand landed on his shoulder, soft and gentle.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, his brows furrowing together.

Molten lava settled in the pit of Virgil’s stomach—pity. That was the expression on Remy’s face he couldn’t identify at first. He didn’t want pity; Virgil knew what pity meant. He didn’t want pity of any kind, it reminded him too much of the foster parents that looked at him like he was some feral dog that could be whipped into obedience. And sure, Remy had never hurt him but it didn’t mean Virgil forgotten about that morning spent at Remy’s dorm a month back.

Eyes lit up with a burning, controlled fire. Words hissed through a clenching jaw, “Tell me their name and I’ll beat them up for you.”

If Remy was willing to hurt who he deemed as threats to Virgil, who’s to say he wouldn’t be willing to hurt Virgil? To reprimand Virgil, to let him know how much of an idiot he was being? It sounded absurd, even now, because he’d known Remy for almost a year. Remy had plenty opportunities up to now to do something and hadn’t. Yet he was a vampire; years were nothing to him. He had plenty of time to wait for Virgil to slip up in some way and make his irritation known.

And Virgil knew by now to expect the other shoe to drop in a relationship—it was why he distanced himself, isolated himself to solely to work and his cramped little room at the apartment. He was foolish to believe Remy, Patton and Logan were different. Logan and Patton especially—what was he thinking? Patton saved him, sure, but Logan had been hellbent on locking him in their basement for the eternity of time. Why had ever he allowed himself to accept their apologies, to believe something was going right in his life for once?

“I’m fine.” Virgil snarled, shoving himself forward. It was like marching into a warzone, the music assaulted his ears and rattled uncomfortably against his chest cavity. He grimaced, keeping his eyes towards the floor, away from the flashing lights. He stopped a bit before the ocean of bodies that stood between them and the entrance.

He knew if he looked up, he could make out the back of Jerad’s shirt from his spot at the bar. Stupid, this was so stupid. Why had he allowed himself to get talk into this by Remy? There was no doubt in his mind that Jerad would catch him trying to leave and rightfully demand why he was ditching him for Remy. It was a shit thing to do, after all.

Friends don’t ditch one another without explanation. Jerad left him, sure, but he always had an explanation after the fact. Virgil didn’t think Jerad would like his explanation very much. Especially when it involved Remy, one of the people Jerad had been trying to warn him about.

A hand gracefully looped itself around one of his own, tugging him off to the side rather than through the crowd. Virgil looked to see Remy guiding them towards a set of doors, ones clearly marked for employees only.

“Remy—”

“Shhh, this is a faster way outta here, trust me.” He said, flashing a smile. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting but for Virgil it only caused his stomach to churn.

Right before they made it to the doors, an employee materialized in front of them. “Excuse me, sirs, you’re not allowed back here—”

“Cindy, gurl, remember me, Lansing? Worked here last summer? Do you remember, yeah?” Remy lowered his shades to take a look at her. Virgil peered behind him, unable to view Remy’s face. He could see Cindy’s face, however. Her face pinched up in confusion, frowning, before abruptly smoothening out with a wide grin stretched from ear-to-ear. She looked right at Remy, her gaze shifting entirely off of Virgil as if he no longer existed.

“Lansing, oh! Oh yes, I remember.” Cindy said, with a high-pitched laugh. Virgil shrunk further back into Remy’s shadow, squeezing Remy’s hand tightly. Something was wrong and he didn’t like it. Remy never mentioned working as a bartender—and that wasn’t quite something Remy would be quiet about. Virgil could just picture the outrageous bartending stories he’d have if that was the case.

Remy laughed along with her, light and airy.

“Good, then can ya do a fellow former co-bartender a favor and let us slip through, just this once?”

“Gurl, of course, just if you caught don’t let Gregory know I was the one that let you pass.” She leaned in conspiratorially, face twitching a bit.

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t see us again, in fact forget that you even saw us. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I bet you have things to do.”

She laughed again at that. “Yes, of course. It was nice seeing you, Lansing, but I have to go.”

Cindy hurried off, quickly dissipating through the crowd. Virgil blinked; what the fuck? What the fuck was that—

He didn’t even have time to process the encounter before Remy led them into the dimly lit back hallway of the nightclub. Whether it was a faster way out of the nightclub was debatable. For all his talk about previously working there, Remy seemed just as lost as Virgil in the winding hallway. He led them one direction, only to immediately pivot down the other way.

Remy wasn’t talking. Remy was always talking endlessly, as if speaking was as vital as oxygen to him. He was terrible at whispering too—something Logan would get on him about at the library. That was why he was usually stuck on front desk duty to speak with patrons, helping out at events or doing organizational work in the back office. For Remy to be this silent, like the brooding calm before a storm, well. Virgil’s lungs wanted to seize up right then and there.

Eventually, they made to a door that opened out to an alleyway, right where the night club kept its dumpster. The moon gleamed from her perch in the sky, nearly full but not quite. Like a cookie with a bite taken out of it. Virgil knew there was terms for the different phases of the moon. His mother loved taking him out to see the night sky. She’d point out the constellations and tell him what phase the moon that night was.

He wished he could remember, for her sake, what they were. Considering he knew actual werewolves, you’d think he pay better attention to it. But it was a topic Virgil never felt brave enough to venture and one that neither Patton nor Logan opened up much on their own about.

He stared at the moon, transfixed, that he almost forgotten the reason he was outside in the first place. Not until Remy murmured something before attempting to lead him off somewhere. The gaping dread from moments prior seized hold of him once more.

“No!” Virgil snapped, yanking his hand out of Remy’s grip. He stumbled backwards a few steps, slamming himself into a wall of the building in the process.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, frowning as he took a step forward.

“What the hell was that back there?”

“What do you mean—”

“Don’t act stupid!” Virgil demanded, taking a shaky breath, “That lady—Cindy—you did something, I—I don’t know, she was acting weird! And—and you were acting weird! So I’m asking again; What. The Hell. Was. That?”

Remy stared at him, his breath hitching, “Virgil, I was just trying to get you to a quiet place ASAP before you—”

“You’re still not answering the question.” Virgil cut in, his intestines tightening themselves into knots over it. Because maybe this was just a classic case of Virgil paranoia striking again. Maybe he really was driving himself into a panic attack over nothing. Maybe he was accusing Remy unjustly.

Yet, if that was the case why would Remy flinch if Virgil struck him physically with his words?

“Virgil,” Remy said slowly, “I need you not to panic and hear me out, ok?”

Virgil’s heartrate accelerated. Not panic, not panic?! What did Remy expect but for him to panic at those words?

“Okay.” Virgil said, definitely panicking.

“What have you’ve heard about vamps?”

“That they—you drink blood. And your reflection doesn’t show up in mirrors—and—and if you get bitten by a vampire, you’ll either turn into one or get mind controlled.”

“All technically true, well I mean—there’s a fuck-ton more to the turning process than that—” Remy cut himself off, “That’s beside the point. The point is, what you call mind-control, we call ‘enthralling.’ Enthralling is…”

“Is what?”

“Enthralling is, well. It’s a form of hypnosis. Anyone enthralled by a vampire is mostly aware of it and the least likely they are to follow a vampire’s suggestions, the more likely they are to fight against the hypnosis. And it can be activated through eye-contact which is what I did to Cindy.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Suddenly pieces were slotted together in mind, forming a picture Virgil never wanted to envision. That faint but visceral memory of Remy with red eyes, the natural charisma Remy held with anyone he met, how Remy managed to steal confidential information from Virgil’s employee file in the back office of Kirby’s Burgers—all of it. He thought Remy, out of anybody, was safe. Past his sassy, laidback exterior, Remy was honest, willing to speak his mind about anything and everything.

If Remy enthralled a complete stranger without blinking an eye—who’s to say he wasn’t above doing it to Virgil? Who’s to say he hadn’t enthralled Virgil into being his friend? Who’s to say Virgil wasn’t an oblivious mouse in a game of cat and mouse? Oh gods, this had just confirmed all of Virgil’s worst fears and more.

“Virgil—” Remy said, reaching out, his eyes hidden beneath his shades. He continued speaking, a mumble jumbo string of excuses probably. Virgil couldn’t stand to stay around and listen to it.

“Stop—just don’t—” Virgil stuttered, taking one step and then another towards the open sidewalk. What was just a few steps then became a few hundred until he found himself leaning against the door to the apartment, hands shaking to slot the key to unlock it.

A few more steps he was inside, the usual musty smell an unexpected comfort. He sat on the couch, seconds stretching into eternity. He half-expected Remy to have chased after him, demanding Virgil to listen, why couldn’t you just listen, you’re so stupid no wonder you’re pathetic—

Virgil blinked a few times, his eyes burning with some sort of irritation. For some reason, Remy let him go. He couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. His head ached and so did his ears for some reason.

Jerad entered the apartment a few millennia later. Virgil froze at the rattling doorknob, his hand clutching onto his phone in his pocket.

“There you are, you fucker!” Jerad drawled, stumbling over in a drunken stupor. His hand moved towards Virgil, but not with a closed fist. Instead he patted him on the back like earlier, “I can’t believe you did it! You finally got the balls to go and hook up with somebody! I guess I can’t call you Virgin, now huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Virgil murmured, not correcting him on that assumption. He sat there, a bit of tension draining from him. Jerad wasn’t mad for abandoning him. Jerad was still a jerk, but at least Virgil mostly knew what to expect of him. It wasn’t ideal, but that was life. It was better to deal with the devil you knew, then the devil you didn’t know. Virgil was stupid to have ever thought otherwise.

“My parents are being such dicks at the moment,” Jerad said, precipitously changing topics as per usual of him, “sometimes I wish I didn’t have to wait until they were dead to take my inheritance and do what I want to do, y’know?”

Virgil didn’t really know. Did his parents leave him money? They had to have had some sort of savings stashed away. A life insurance of some sort, right? It wasn’t like they were poor. He never thought about inquiring into that. Jerad accidentally slapped Virgil across the arm with a huge hand gesture, still ranting about something. Maybe it wasn’t an accidental hit.

Virgil didn’t know. His tether on reality felt weak, like a balloon close to floating away into the stratosphere. He almost wished he could float away, but the weight in his chest said otherwise. Jerad passed out not long after his rant, slumped half on the floor and half on the sofa. Virgil took this opportunity to slip into the comfort of his bedroom and turn on his cellphone once more.

Seventeen new text notifications and five missed calls from Jerad greeted him, along with one new text notification from Logan. He clicked on Logan’s and his conversation, staring at Logan’s text at the bottom of it.

Logan: Virgil, Remy wanted me to inform you that he is taking a leave of absence from work. Please let me know if you need to take a leave of absence as well or need to confide in somebody as a friend, Patton or I would be happy to listen.

Virgil stared at it some more. Then he tapped out a short response, set the phone on the stool that was his makeshift nightstand and collapsed headfirst into his mattress.

Virgil: K thanks, I’m fine

A/N: Hope everyone is doing well, if you enjoyed the chapter please consider leaving a comment--it's completely free and helps me out as a fanfic writer a ton! I'm technically not in the Sanders Sides fandom anymore, but I still have a lotta fondness for this fic and I will finish it, even if takes me ten years to do so :') -Kat

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #kat writes #werewolf au #long post

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evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn · 3 years

Text

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

Chapter 2: Wasted Effort, Wasted Breath

Read on AO3 (Chapter 1)

Word count: 1363

Tw: Sooo much pining, Food mention, Remus shenanigans (Explicit nicknames, Explicit language, Human body limits being broken, Talk of gore)

Character’s: Logan, Roman, Remus (cause I love a supportive bestie)

~~~

"-pretty sure his favorite flowers are buttercups, but I could always ask... Are you listening to me Specs?"

"Hm? Yes, yes I am." Logan blinks out of his haze from which he was not listening. Don't get him wrong, he does usually enjoy discussions with Roman, but not really when he's making plans to help him woo someone he doesn't even like.

"Oh yeah? Name his favorite kinds of chocolates." Roman challenges.

"Milk Chocolate chips." Logan already knew that before, as he is usually the one to supervise Patton's baking to make sure he doesn't burn down the mindscape. Patton is always a chatty fellow, and Logan now knows pretty much his whole life story. He's used this knowledge before, gaining him a gold star on a family game night. (He has it pinned up next to all of Thomas's other academic achievements)

"Fair enough. I set the bar too low." Roman flops down on the bed, drawing a long sigh. As soon as Roman had found out about Logan's crush, he had dragged him to his room so they could get to the 'gossip' immediately.

At this point, after three hours, Logan is almost more annoyed than embarrassed. After the initial shock of realizing his infatuation, he's had the time to think about it and come to terms with his feelings. It helped that he was in the same room as the object of his affections this whole time, as he's been noticing all of the things he used to repress. Like how he really likes Roman's smile. He likes his prince charming smile, when he's overly confident about something. He likes his bashful smiles whenever he gets shy about something.

Really, he just likes Roman.

It feels very simple when he puts it that way. He can't believe it's taken him this long to find out.

"I think we should take a break from the input of ideas for now." Logan suggests.

Roman sighs and deflates further. "Ah, fine. I shall for now give up on setting you up with your one true love."

Logan stays silent. What? Just because he's annoyed enough to want to tell Roman doesn't mean he has an ounce of courage to actually go through with it. He clearly is all for setting up Logan with Patton, why would he like him back? Logan doesn't want to risk getting his heart broken, figuratively, right after discovering that his heart has been for Roman all along. Figuratively.

"Sooo, what kind of things do you like in Patton?" Roman asks, suspiciously calm and casual.

"I- um, well-" Logan fumbles for something people would find romantically attractive in Patton. "He... He's got... Eyes? And he wears clothes. I enjoy people wearing clothes."

Roman stares at him, confused. "... That's it? Come on, you've gotta give me something better than that Dill Weed."

Well, why not go for things he likes in Roman, he supposes. As Janus would say, every lie works better when rooted in truth.

"I think he's rather dumb," Logan starts off with. "Which should be a negative, but he's just so endearingly stupid. Every time he spews some nonsense, or does anything really, I just want to kiss him. He's also really creati- Kind. Very... Uhh... Sweet. I notice the effort he puts in to make others feel special. And make me feel special. Everyone is included."

"Do you... Like his puns?" Roman asks, half smiling, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Dear Newton, I hate his puns." Logan sighs solemnly. That draws a laugh from Roman, if only for a bit. "I do actually like his eyes though. The changes we experience in the mindscape are fascinating, and he's certainly been blessed, with those green, piercing eyes." He says, entranced, looking into Roman's wide, green, piercing eyes, that are looking back at him in shock.

"You mean blue?" Roman asks, oddly red in the ears and fidgeting with his hands.

Logan blinks out of his stupor. "Ah. Right. Blue. Apologies."

They both break eye contact, him looking around the very decorated room as if that would cure his embarrassment.

"You really seem to like him." Roman looks back to him, face pinched but still smiling.

"I do." Logan agrees, admiring the other. "I like him a lot."

"Well. Um." Roman stands up abruptly from the bed. "You did say you didn't want my help for tonight with the whole date ordeal. In which case, we shall resume the noble quest at a later date!"

"You don't want to talk about other things?" Logan asks, tilting his head. Is Roman okay? He looks pained.

"No, I think I'll be off. I have to go do other things. Like, water my.. Turtle." Roman ushers him out of his room. "So long, Geek Chic."

“... You don’t own a turtle-” Logan is left there, staring at the door. It's red with a star at the top center. Tasteful. Very Hollywood dressing room.

He clears his throat, and goes on his route to his own room. That shouldn't be that hard, since the only thing separating them is Patton's (He volunteered to move in between when both of them started arguing through the wall. It's strange because they live in a metaphysical space that only roughly simulates real life and therefore likely have an empty void in between the spaces of their rooms, but Logan suspects where he goes, more logical influence follows.), but fate has an interesting way of working. Or just Remus. Speaking of, there he is. Breaking through the ceiling and landing face-first with a splat in front of Logan.

Remus merely cranks his head 180 to look at Logan. "Heyyy Nerdgasm. How'd the romantic fucking go?"

"I didn't tell him."

"No? Are you scared?" He asks, in a mocking tone but looking concerned.

Logan's shoulders slump. "I don't think I'm ready enough to face rejection from him. Not to mention he seemed rather adamant about giving me tips on how to woo Patton."

"Aww, come on Logie. You can't give up now. I'm not allowed to tell you why, but you do have quite the chance of scoring that loser." Remus says, shifting in and out of existence until he's standing upright. He pats Logan's shoulder. "Now go, cause the next time you see me, you'll never hear the end of the teasing. Like, even if you rip off your ears! I'll still find a way to make fun of you." He cackles.

Logan dreads the moment they meet again. Now that both Remus, Janus and Virgil were proven right, not only will they brag amongst themselves, but they'll surely tease him.

Remus prances off, and Logan finally gets to his room. He takes off his shoes, because cleanliness is a good idea, and prepares himself for bed.

Staring up at his star-covered ceiling (Accurate to it's alignment of today, obviously), he realizes he still has a lot to process.

How did they all know and yet he had no idea? He knows he isn't the most intelligent when it comes to emotions, but come on, neither are most of them. Usually Virgil wouldn't know romantic tension if it slapped him across the chaps. Or maybe he would. He'd just be anxious and/or grossed out by it.

Logan realizes that he must have been obvious. He's sure that he's been caught glaring at Roman many times. And trying to be around him. And Janus is also a living lie detector.

He gets himself into a comfortable lying position, turning off his bedside lamp.

Will he ever tell Roman? He'll probably have to, or keep the feelings to himself for the rest of his existence, hoping they go away.

Which would be better? Sure, never confessing sounds like a tragic way for things to go, but what would be even more tragic would be to get rejected by him, and have to coexist for eternity afterwards. Would Roman avoid him? His heart clenches painfully at the possibilities.

Perhaps he's having cognitive distortions... Roman is rather considerate. If he were to let him down, he'd do it slowly and compassionately.

As Logan's conscience fades, he prays it will all turn out alright.

~~~

#logince #logince fic #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #tw food #oliver writes #5 Reasons fic

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siren1song · 4 years

Text

Sugarcoated

Summary: Patton is short, but he doesn't really mind it. And honestly? He minds it even less when he finds out the cute new employee can pick him up easy-peasy.

Warnings: Mentions of making out

Pairing: Intruality

General Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns, @emo-disaster, @greenninjagal-blog, @jungle321jungle, @sleepy-sides, @gattonero17, @izzynuggets, @another-sandersidesblog, @strawberryjellystuff, @remusownsmyuwus, @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit, @demidork84, @gr3ml1n-loser, @main-chive, @kiribakuandcats, @firey-alex, @orca-iguana

Taglist for This: @jessibbb, @sanderssides-angst, @yalltookmyurlideas

Commissions!! | Buy Me a Kofi!! | Join Casper’s Crew!! | Ao3 Link!!

Notes: Tiny Patton and Remus picking him up. Tiny Patton and Remus picking him up.

Patton… was short. This wasn’t new to him, of course, but sometimes it could really be a pain in the tush. Being five foot one and working in a candy shop meant that sometimes he couldn’t reach the high shelves where all the individually wrapped hard candies were so young’uns couldn’t hurt themselves.

Which was what he was struggling to deal with right now, standing on his tip toes to refill one of the containers (he hadn’t been able to make Ivan and Steve stop flirting long enough to grab the step stool) and hoping he didn’t drop anything and waste stock.

He didn’t mind being short, but gosh being taller would be real nice right now.

Suddenly there was a hand guiding the bag of butterscotch away from the container Patton was trying to fill, and before he could protest, he was yelping because there was hands grabbing his waist and picking him up. Looking down with a flushed red face, trying not to wiggle too much when he was settled onto a shoulder, Patton saw the newest employee grinning up at him.

“Noticed you needed some help, hope this is okay?” Remus asked, patting Patton’s calf with the hand he had around his legs to help keep him balanced.

Oh goodness, he is strong being able to pick him up with as chubby as he was.

“Ah- Well I mean, in the future maybe ask before you pick me up? But uh… yeah this is a big help, thanks!” he said, unable to fight back his flustered giggle.

Remus’ grin grew wider, and Patton forced himself to focus on restocking the butterscotch instead of the swoop of butterflies in his belly at just how attractive that grin was.

Honestly, Patton hadn’t been expecting for there to be another instance where he was picked up. He’d moved the step stool to a new spot since Ivan and Steve kept flirting in that one, and nothing was too high for him to restock or clean with that thing.

He supposed physically picking him up and moving him away from the counter was one way to keep him from yelling at an entitled mother who thought her custom box of chocolates for her daughter wasn’t supposed to be as expensive as it was.

It was… also a way to distract him from his anger by making him remember just how gay he was for Remus. Which was a little bit of an issue considering Patton may be manager, but Logan was store owner and if de caught Remus saying what he was to the now scandalized mother, de would fire both of them. Remus for saying it and Patton for allowing it.

“Ah, Remus, please step back,” he said softly, grabbing his arm and catching Steve’s attention, nodding him in the direction of the woman.

Times like these, Patton was so grateful that Steve was so good at customer service.

Remus stepped back, following Patton when he gestured for him to do so.

They stepped into a supply closet, Patton not expecting to hear the click of the door closing behind them but forcing himself to not think about that right now because he needed to be professional and he couldn’t think about kissing someone who worked under him.

“I really appreciate you pulling me back out there,” he started, turning to face Remus before looking up for the light string, “but you can’t- dang it, I can’t reach that.”

Remus, without saying anything and wearing an amused grin, reached forward and pulled once on the chain.

Patton refused to acknowledge the showcasing of height made his face more red because he did not want to think about his attraction to Remus right now.

“Uh… thank you. Anyway, you can’t talk to customers like that, whether they’re rude or not-”

“You looked pretty close to ripping her head off yourself,” Remus commented, his grin growing when Patton spluttered a little in response.

“Yeah, well I just…” Patton sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and pursing his lips a little in a small pout, “she was calling Lo mean things, and deir my friend not just my boss.”

Remus nodded, making a vague sound of agreement that had Patton looking back up at him to see-

Oh. Oh. He is definitely watching his mouth, oh goodness.

“Yeah I heard, I’ve got ears. And eyes.”

“Uh… what does… your vision have to do with anything?” Patton asked, taking a step back and forcing back a squeak when his back met the wall.

Maybe a closet wasn’t the best decision to have a private conversation.

“Nothing important. Just noticing the cute manager and how flustered he gets around me. Say, question,” Remus said, interrupting Patton before he could even respond to the flirt.

“Oh, uh, answer,” he responded, his mind a little scrambled because Remus had just taken two steps closer and now there was barely two feet between them.

“What’s the policy on dating here?” he asked, taking one more step forward.

If Patton’s face wasn’t red before, it sure as heck was now.

“It’s um. It’s frowned upon.”

“Cool, I quit then,” Remus said and then he was tilting Patton’s face upwards just a bit more so he could place a kiss on his lips.

And well… if he quit, then Patton was going to let himself enjoy this.

“Patton,” Logan started, arms crossed over deir chest as de looked over deir glasses at Patton.

“Logan,” Patton responded, struggling not to giggle as he cupped his hand over the two hickeys on his neck, his other hand supporting his elbow as he stood in Logan’s office.

Percy, the one person in the candy shop who was fed up with all the flirting, had ended up walking in on him and Remus while they were kissing and had ratted Patton out to Logan.

Well… kissing was a light word for it, but Patton couldn’t find it in himself to care at this exact moment.

Logan sighed, rubbing deir temple while Patton finally let out the giggles he’d been struggling to hold back the last twenty minutes.

“I hope you know I’m going to have to put you on unpaid leave, Pat,” de said, giving Patton a tired look that turned Patton’s grin into a sheepish smile.

“I know now? How long?” he asked, tapping his fingers against his elbow and shifting his feet.

He kind of wanted to leave already. Remus was waiting for him in the employee parking lot.

“A week. Please don’t make out in the shop again, and especially not on the clock,” Logan said, giving Patton a pointed look that had him giggling again.

“Yep! Lesson learned! See you tomorrow!” he said, starting to back out of the room.

Logan frowned in confusion.

“Why tomorrow? Isn’t it your night to make dinner?”

Patton gave Logan a cheeky grin.

“You can cook, can’t you?”

And then he was out the door. Sure, that may not be the nicest way to go about things, and he would definitely be apologizing to dem later for flaking out on his night to cook, but he really wanted to spend some more time with Remus, and he’d promised him a fun time.

With how the twenty minutes in the supply closet went, Patton was honestly inclined to believe that.

When Patton stepped out of the building, Remus stood up from where he was leaning on his truck and waved him over with a grin.

“Hey sunshine, didn’t get fired did you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Patton once he was within a reasonable talking distance.

“No, but I’m on unpaid leave for a week.”

Remus blew a raspberry, making Patton giggle.

“Well shit. Bright side though, that means a little more time for us, huh sweetheart?” Remus asked, pulling the passenger door open.

Patton giggled and took a step forward to climb in.

Before he could, Remus had his hands on Patton’s waist and lifted him into the truck. Patton was going to protest, but Remus already his lips on his.

“I’d say that makes the leave worth it,” he said, words a little breathless, when Remus pulled away.

Remus chuckled, pecking his cheek and making him giggle when his mustache tickled his skin.

“Gotta agree there, butterscotch.”

#casper writes #ts patton #ts remus #ts logan #intruality #platonic logicality #making out #nonbinary logan #logan uses de/dem/deirs pronouns #ahhhh this was!! so cute #i loved writing it so much #there was so much formatting for this oh my God #i stg if i forgot smth i Will cry

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Won’t You Stay (Part 16)

Summary: The movie has wrapped and is in post-production phase now. With a bit more free time, the reader and Jensen’s parents meet for the first time in Texas...

Masterlist

Square: Mirror Sex

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader

Word Count: 4,000ish

Warnings: mature (language, anxiety, smut (protected sex, mirror sex))

A/N: Please enjoy! Also written for @spnkinkbingo

_____

Three Months Later

“Y/N, would you calm down. You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” said your mom as she moved about the kitchen. You whined and paced back over to the front room, glancing out the window. “Ethan. She’s doing it again.”

“Sweetie,” called your dad, popping up from the family room and walking around the corner to you. “They are the Ackles, not a pack of wolves.”

“I just really want this to go well,” you said. “They should have been here by now. Waco isn’t that far a drive from Dallas. Maybe they got screwed up with their hotel or something.”

“We told ‘em they could stay here. No use in having a guest room if the guests don’t use them,” said your dad. You looked over at him slowly, rolling your eyes. “That was a good one. I give it a 9.5.”

“Dad! My boyfriend’s family is not staying over our house! What were you thinking? What if they hate you! Or mom! I can’t believe you.”

“Direct a multi million dollar movie? She’s fine. Introduce her parents to her boyfriend’s parents? Apparently it’s the end of time as we know it.”

“Dad,” you groaned, your mom slipping away from the kitchen over to you. “Mom, why would you let him do this?”

“Why are you so nervous? We love Jensen and I’m sure we will love his family too,” she said.

“Cause what if you guys don’t like each other?” you said.

“If we don’t, then we don’t. It doesn’t affect you and Jensen though, kiddo. Relax,” he said. He rubbed your shoulders and you sighed. “Now go finish setting the table.”

“I already did that,” you said.

“Don’t worry,” said your mom, giving you a peck on the cheek. “They’ll be here real soon.”

You threw your head back and walked away, your parents laughing to themselves as you wandered out the front door and under the front porch. It was a very different style home than the house in LA. That was a massive mansion with beams and dark wood and looked grand. The Waco vacation house though, that was something more like you wanted for yourself someday. It was nice and updated but it was still just a house. A large one but nothing like in LA.

You remembered picking it out with your dad when you were about five years old. The house didn’t interest you too much but there was a swing on the tree in the backyard that you absolutely fell in love with.

You smiled as you saw a car pull in at the end of the driveway. It wasn’t like you were meeting his parents for the first time. Maybe it was the second time but things would turn out okay. They always did with Jensen.

“Hey,” said Jensen, ducking out of the backseat when the car parked near the garage.

“Howdy partner,” you said, Jensen’s parents and sister getting out as well. “Hi.”

“Nice to see you again, sweetie,” said his mom as you walked over to help with the bags. She gave you a hug and you got a nod from his sister.

“How’s the semester going?” you asked.

“Probably flunked my biology midterm but otherwise awesome,” she said. Jensen rolled his eyes behind her back and she scoffed. “Oh shut up Jenny.”

“Alright, nerd. Most people don’t consider an A- flunking by the way,” he said, handing you over a few bags. “Mac, get your stuff.”

“Are you ever going to relax?” she asked, rolling her eyes as she pulled out a duffel bag. “I cannot believe you date him.”

“He has his moments,” you said. “You may need to end up bunking with my little sister if that’s alright.”

“Ella and Anthony aren’t too much younger than you. I’m sure you three will all get along and find ways to annoy us,” said Jensen.

“Don’t challenge me, Jensen,” she said.

“Behave. You’re a guest,” said his father. He looked at you and nodded before heading towards the front door.

“He likes you,” said Jensen.

“He does not,” you said quietly. “He thinks I’m some stupid actor’s stupid daughter.”

“No, he doesn’t,” said Jensen. “I promise. I was super nervous around your dad at first and now we’re good friends.”

“You were also coworkers. Oh God this was a mistake,” you said.

“Hey, honey. If it is, I promise we can runaway and stay in a hotel room for the weekend, okay?” he said. He kissed your temple and you nodded, helping carry some bags over to the front door where his family was waiting.

“Guys, they’re here,” you called, stepping inside and leading the way for them.

“Hi!” said your mom, coming around the corner from the kitchen quickly. “I’m Dani, Y/N’s mom.”

“You look like her older sister,” mumbled Mackenzie. Jensen elbowed her in the ribs and shot her a dirty look.

“Ah. Yours are like ours I see,” said your mom.

“You should see them when the oldest is with them,” said Jensen’s mom. She gave your mom a hug, Jensen’s dad giving her a friendly smile. “This is Alan. I’m Donna and this is our youngest Mackenzie.”

“Hi,” said your mom, your dad walking in with your siblings in tow. “This is-“

“He’s the guy!” said Mac, whacking Jensen on the arm. “That guy that’s in that movie you were obsessed with when I was little.”

“Aw, I’m flattered Jensen,” teased Ethan.

“I hate you, Mac,” said Jensen, your dad chuckling.

“Well I’m Ethan and these are our other kiddos, Anthony and then Ella,” he said.

“You’re kinda young if you don’t mind me saying. Sport,” said Alan. You cocked your head, your dad smirking.

“I always knew that Jensen looked familiar but could never quite figure it out. Alan Ackles. You scared the crap out of me that day,” he said.

“You gotta tease the rookies. I hear Jensen’s gotten plenty of that,” he said.

“Um, do you two know each other?” you asked.

“Not really but we worked together once, way back on a local commercial in Dallas. It was my very first acting job before I moved to LA. I must have been seventeen years old,” said your dad, shaking Alan’s hand.

“I wasn’t that old, probably the kids age or just a hair older,” he said. “Obviously that acting thing worked out for you.”

“Eh, just a little,” said your dad. “Come in. Y/N, bring the bags up to the guest room.”

“And you thought they wouldn’t like each other,” hummed Jensen as your parents headed off together.

“You did too!” you said. You spun around and Jensen’s sister was staring at him, your siblings doing the same. “Why don’t you guys hang out with Mac while we bring this stuff up? Maybe show her around.”

You left before they could say anything, urging Jensen to follow you.

“I totally was not expecting this,” said Jensen. “It’s so different than your parents house.”

“Truth be told I think we all prefer this one,” you said. “But you know, gotta have the house if you’re Ethan Y/L/N.”

“I can’t believe our dads worked together, even if just for a day once,” he said.

“Maybe this was meant to be,” you said. Jensen grabbed your waist and kissed you, making you giggle and nearly fall backwards.

“I think we both know the answer to that,” he said, grabbing you tight. “Falling for me again?”

“Such a loser,” you said, popping into a bedroom and setting down most of the bags. You walked farther down the hall and set Mackenzie’s down in Ella’s before pulling Jensen to the end and into your own.

“Wow,” he said, dropping his bag by the door as he stepped inside. “I gotta admit, I think you got the best bedroom.”

“First dibs has its perks,” you said. Jensen walked over to the window, staring out at the rolling wheat field far out behind the house and trees.

“Sometimes I really forget how you grew up.”

“Money isn’t everything. Ask my dad and you know he’d give all of this up in a heartbeat to have not have gone through what he did. What I did. What everyone did with the car accident,” you said. You stopped beside him, Jensen lacing your fingers together.

“Y/N. I don’t mean the bedroom or the houses. I know you didn’t get what most of us do but your dad did a good job of trying to give that to you, a normal life,” he said. “Also, you have a Nintendo 64 over there that we are totally taking home with us.”

“We’ll have to see if we can sneak it out,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “Your parents don’t know that my mom isn’t my birth mom, do they.”

“If they have a problem with your family, I think they’re just going to have to get over it,” he said. “Why’re you so scared, Y/N? I get being nervous and wanting everyone to get along. I’m exactly that way right now too.”

“Because if there was a problem, I would never want anything to come between you and your family. I would never ask you to pick me over them,” you said.

“Y/N.”

“Because you make me happy,” you said, lifting your head to look at him, cautious green eyes looking back. “I think it would rip me apart for good if I screwed this up.”

“I love my family Y/N. I love your family. But if they ever put me in a position to choose them or you, then they aren’t the people I love. Where’s this really coming from?” he asked.

“My parents got along really well with Logan’s,” you said quietly. “They all clicked instantly. Your dad doesn’t...I don’t think he approves of me but he’s too polite to say it.”

“You are by and far the best girlfriend I’ve introduced to them. Pretty. Smart. Badass. Did I mention pretty?” he said, kissing your cheek. “You met them for three hours once when he had a cold. You are worrying over nothing. I promise.”

“Well those three seem to be thick as thieves,” said your mom as she came outside to the back patio after dinner, carrying a few drinks. You glanced inside to the kitchen, your brother and sister chatting up a storm with Mackenzie at the counter.

“To think she didn’t even want to come,” said Donna. You watched your dad put another log on the fire, your mom handing you a beer. You nodded and took a sip, Jensen rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Everything alright, Y/N? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

“Probably just jet lagged,” said your dad. “Kiddo’s been working on editing like crazy lately now that we’re wrapped.”

“What are you doing in the meantime Jensen?” asked his dad.

“Kind of relaxing. Trying to learn how to cook. I can only make chicken casserole for Y/N so many times,” said Jensen with a smile.

“It’s yummy,” you said, taking another sip.

“The movie comes out in about six months. We can be sure to snag you guys some tickets for the premiere,” said your dad.

“Jensen already invited us but unfortunately that’s exactly when we’re supposed to be on a cruise for a few weeks. He wouldn’t let us skip for it,” said Donna.

“Eh, you guys can come to the next one,” said Jensen. “We’re set to start the second movie not long after the first comes out.”

“I just picked up the prequel book. Oh, I feel so sorry for poor Lyle,” she said. “Do you mind if I ask how you came up with him, Y/N?”

“Overactive imagination,” you said with a smile.

“It was good,” said Alan, your head turning towards him. “The first book. I liked it.”

“Thanks,” you said, Jensen giving you a smirk.

“You know what we need? S’mores,” said your mom. “Jay. Hm?”

“Sure thing, Dani,” said Jensen, standing and heading back inside with her. Donna got up to help and soon it was quiet with just the three of you out there, your dad glancing to you.

“You know Dani isn’t Y/N’s biological mother,” said your dad.

“I didn’t realize you were married before,” said Alan.

“I wasn’t. Y/N wasn’t exactly planned. Her birth mother died in a car accident and they had to deliver early,” said your dad. You stared at him, your dad ignoring it. “I was only eighteen when this happened. I know we’re a little younger than you probably were anticipating.”

“She seemed to turn out just fine,” he said. “Jensen never shuts up about her.”

You gripped your bottle, your dad biting his bottom lip.

“I see where she gets it from,” chuckled Alan. “The both of you are so nervous around me for some reason.”

“I think your son is very important to my daughter,” said your dad.

“I think your daughter is very important to my son. Not sure what the issue is there,” said Alan.

“There’s not an issue,” you said. You stood up and walked away, over to the pool before sticking your feet in the warm water.

You felt a presence behind you and sighed.

“Dad-“

“Not your dad, kid,” said Alan, taking a seat beside you. You watched the water while he rolled up his pants and stuck his feet in, a quiet sound leaving him. “I will admit I was a bit grumpy last month when we met. It had nothing to do with you, Y/N.”

“Why do I feel like you don’t like me then?”

“Maybe because you’re like Jensen in a way, which explains why you fit together so well. Maybe it’s why this seems strange, because part of him is like me too,” he said.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Honestly, maybe it’s because my son seems like himself again and we couldn’t do that. Your family did. Maybe I’m a little jealous of that,” he said.

“My family didn’t do anything.”

“You did.”

You shrugged and took a sip of your beer, his dad smiling.

“Jay ever tell you he wants to try making beer sometime?”

“Once. Told me you nearly tore him out a new one when he tried it in your backyard,” you said.

“Yeah, well. Parents aren’t perfect,” he said. “Maybe we don’t have the opportunity to get to know each other like Jensen did with your family but we do want to know you. We don’t disapprove by the way.”

You turned your head and he shrugged.

“Jensen worries.”

“I’ve noticed,” you said. “This is going to sound a certain way so don’t take it that way please. I just-“

“You don’t have to justify the way you feel,” he said. You nodded, wiggling your toes in the water. “He loves you and we will too. Give me some time is all.”

“I can understand why he is the way he is,” you said with a smile.

“A dork?” he teased. “He gets that from his mom.”

“Sure he does,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you gave him a smile. “The whole single dad, accident baby doesn’t bother you?”

“Don’t ever refer to yourself as an accident. Also, no it doesn’t. Is it unconventional? Yes. But all I care about is that my children are happy. So don’t worry about the other stuff, alright?”

“I’ll try,” you said. It was quiet for a moment, his dad sitting back.

“You know he calls once a week to check in. He spends most of that time talking about you,” he said. “It’s pretty adorable to be honest. Turns into a little boy all over again.”

“He is pretty adorable,” you said.

“Well I know you are incredibly busy at the moment but some quiet weekend, come visit. We’d like it,” he said.

“We will,” you said. There was a rustling behind you and you looked up, Jensen carrying a plate with two s’mores on it.

“You guys want some?” he asked, mouthful of his own.

“Sure,” you said. You took a bite and gave him a thumbs up.

“Everything good?”

“Yeah,” said his dad. “I think we’re all good now.”

“Good morning,” you said, smiling as your parents headed into the kitchen. Your mom raised an eyebrow as your dad took a cup of coffee Jensen handed him. “What?”

“She’s awake. Before us. I don’t think she’s ever willingly done that,” she said. Your dad put a hand on your head and you swatted it away.

“I don’t feel a fever,” he said.

“We wanted to be kind children and make our parents breakfast,” said Jensen over his shoulder as he got out some butter.

“Ah. I see they’ve forgotten we’re going to brunch later,” said your mom. You threw your head back and put the eggs back in the fridge.

“Going back to bed?” asked your dad.

“Yup,” you said, grabbing Jensen’s hand and pulling him upstairs with you. He yawned as you wandered back to your bedroom, smiling when you fell back on the mattress. “More sleep. My favorite.”

“Or we could have morning sex and then go back to bed,” he murmured. “Both your favorites.”

“You want to do it with both our parents in the house? Jensen Ackles. I didn’t realize you were such a bad boy,” you said, rolling over onto your back.

“Only for you,” he teased, locking your bedroom door.

“You have a streak hidden in you. Don’t deny it,” you said.

“Oh, I’m not,” he said, rolling back onto the bed, sliding his hand up your shirt. “I even came prepared.”

“That’s my boy,” you said, stretching your arms up, letting him push the shirt off of you.

“You get rid of those pesky clothes and I’ll be right back.”

He kissed your cheek and hopped up, going to his bag and digging around. You were lazy in taking off your shorts and underwear, tossing your bra on the floor in time for him to come back with nothing but a condom on.

“I would like to try something if you’re up for it,” he said. You sat up with a sleepy smile and nodded. He gave you a lazy kiss before he sat back down, grabbing your waist and pulling you around to the middle of the bed, settling in behind you.

“What are you up to?” you asked.

“Your dresser here has a mirror,” he said, your eyes flickering across to the other side of the room. You saw yourself naked, Jensen snaking a hand down to your folds and slowly rubbing you. “I want you to see how absolutely fucking hot you are when you get fucked.”

“Jay,” you said, turning your head away.

“Please?” he hummed.

“I’m not going to get in the mood by looking at myself.”

“Looking at you naked gets me in the mood all the time,” he said, kissing your neck. You rolled your eyes but looked ahead, watching his free arm cross your waist and press you back against his chest. His arm’s looked larger than normal and you noticed the muscles flexing in his shoulders, the strong thighs that were moving the two of you to sit up. You sat back on your heels, Jensen rutting his cock against your back before pulling you up and settling you over his cock. You lowered yourself down, fluttering your eyes shut.

He snapped his hips back and rocked into you, eyes flashing open and catching his own in the mirror behind you. In the mirror, you started to ride him, Jensen meeting you with every roll of your hips.

“Look at my cock, fuck looks like it barely fits,” said Jensen. Your eyes went down and you watched yourself lift up him, nearly all the way before slamming down.

“Okay. That is pretty hot,” you said, Jensen chuckling as he kissed your jaw. “Fuck. You’re so fucking strong. Shit, Jay.”

“Feels like you’re milking my cock. How are you so tight?” he panted against your skin, warm air hitting your face.

“Because of your big cock,” you whispered, moving your arms behind you to hold onto him, Jensen plowing in harder. You’d never noticed how your own body bowed and arched before, never noticed muscles in your thighs working hard, never noticed the light blush that covered your skin as you got closer to an orgasm. “Harder.”

He tightened his grip and rubbed over your clit, fucking up into you, nailing your g-spot.

You grabbed his ass and he did it again, your head knocking back onto his shoulder. Your whole body tensed as you came, your face soft as you bit your bottom lip, Jensen growling into your neck to hide his grunts as he followed quickly after. With a quiet laugh you let go of him, Jensen pulling you to fall back straight on his chest, rolling you to his side.

“The only thing that could have made that better was seeing your ass too,” you said.

“You can look at my ass anytime you want,” he said, shakily getting to his feet and tossing the condom in the trashcan.

“Uh oh,” you giggled, spotting the red marks covering the small of his back and his creamy cheeks. “I think I might have given you a few new bruises.”

“Please mark me up,” he hummed, sliding back into bed under the covers, laying his arm over your waist. “Makes me feel like yours.”

“God you are too attractive,” you said, kissing his nose, Jensen nuzzling closer. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he said. You shut your eyes, ready to fall back asleep when your phone buzzed, a text from AJ coming in. “Work again?”

“Premiere date got moved up a week,” you said, tossing the phone back down. “No big deal.”

“I can’t wait to walk down a red carpet with the hottest director, writer, actor there ever was and know that she picked me,” he said.

“I would prefer not to go,” you said. Jensen nipped at your bottom lip and you laughed. “But I’ll go as your date.”

“Score one for Ackles,” he said. You kissed him quickly, Jensen closing his eyes. “Sleep?”

“You read my mind, fan boy.”

______

A/N: Read Part 17 here!

#spnkinkbingo #supernatural #spn #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural series #supernatural reader insert #jensen ackles x reader #spn reader insert #jensen reader insert #jensen x #jensen ackles x you

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callboxkat · 4 years

Note

Hiya! For the prompt perhaps #11 "I’ll try to come back before you die." with Remus and any other side. :D

Capture the Flag

Author’s note: Finally filling this prompt you sent like 12 years ago. XD I hope you like it!

Summary: Patton decides to put together a game of Capture the Flag, light sides vs. dark sides, for a bit of friendly competition. Not everything goes as planned.

Warnings: death mention, weapons mention, cheating, Remus, censored swearing

Word count: 2412

Writing Masterpost!

...

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Virgil muttered. He was sitting on the couch of the Mindscape commons area, Roman at his side. Logan and Patton stood, Logan with his arms folded. On the other side of the room, Janus stood beside the second couch, which the others sat upon. Remus was eating deodorant stick after deodorant stick, looking around at everyone else curiously.

Patton glanced at Virgil with a sympathetically reassuring expression, although Virgil of all sides could recognize the nervousness he was trying to hide. “Of course I’m sure. It’ll be good to have some friendly competition.”

Virgil gave him a doubtful look.

“Anyway.” Patton summoned a podium to the center of the room, where the coffee table had once been, and stepped up onto it. “Here are the rules of the game—“

“Why do you get to make all of the rules?” asked Janus, subtly raising one gloved hand. “Doesn’t that give your team a potential advantage?”

“Because I’m Morality!” Patton replied in a chipper tone. “Rules come with the territory. But how about we agree, if you have any complaints, we can talk about maybe changing some little things before we get going. And, I won’t be playing, so the teams will be even, and the rules will be even less biased! Does that sound good?”

Janus nodded and stepped back to stand with his team: the other “dark sides”, as Roman called them, although Virgil would rather not use that name. He’s once been one of them, after all, and the term’s connotation was undeniably villainesque.

Speaking of Roman, the creative side seemed to also have something to say. “How do we know they’ll follow the rules, anyway?”

“If they do not follow the rules, I would assume their points would no longer count,” Logan said. “Correct?”

“Correct!” said Patton. “So I guess that’s rule number one. You have to follow the rules.”

After that, he began listing off the real rules. Most of them involved basic stuff, having to do with how capture the flag was played. For example, they couldn’t hide the flags in unreasonably difficult to find places, the flags couldn’t be within ten feet of each other, they couldn’t bring back more than one of the flags at once, and if you were caught while bringing a flag back, you had to give the flag back, return to your team’s area, and wait ten minutes before trying to go back for the same one.

Other rules were more specific to their situation, as sides, and to certain sides’ tendencies. They couldn’t summon each other during the game, Janus couldn’t make people slam their hands on their mouths as an excuse to make them drop the flag, no one could use a weapon or shapeshift, and they had to walk the whole time—so, for example, if one of them was caught with a flag before crossing the border, they couldn’t simply rise up again where they remembered it being. And no one could steal back a flag that had already made it into the other team’s territory, something that Virgil suspected Janus had definitely been planning on doing had that rule not been explicitly stated.

Patton finished listing off the last few rules, counting them off on his fingers. Janus argued about wording on some of them, but soon enough, they had a list of rules everyone was (mostly) happy with.

Once that was done, all of the sides rose up in the imagination, which had been decorated specially for the day. Remy, a figment of Thomas’s imagination, not a side and therefore at least hypothetically impartial, sat in a tall chair positioned just atop a long, glowing rainbow line that stretched across the imagination, which today took the form of a large field transitioning to forest on either side.

Remy, clearly the judge of the game, took a long, loud sip of tea before leaning forward. “Ready, babes?”

“All set!” Patton replied cheerily.

“Alright, sweet. Patty, your team’s on the left“ —he gestured off in that direction with his tea—“and the rest of you losers get the right.”

“Oh, I’m not playing,” Patton said. “I’m hanging out with you!”

“Sure, doll. As for the rest of you, all your flags are in this chest, riiiight... here.”

A large wooden chest had appeared at his feet, open to reveal three silver flags and three gold flags.

“Dibs on gold!” Remus yelled, clearly to the dismay of his brother.

That was probably exactly why he wanted that color, Virgil figured. To annoy his brother.

Janus handed off two of the golden flags to his teammates, who vanished into the woods to find places for them. Meanwhile, Logan carefully picked up the silver flags, inspecting them more closely than Virgil felt was really warranted for a few imaginary pieces of fabric.

Remy looked at his wrist, where a watch had materialized. “Might want to get to hiding those flags. The game’s beginning in five minutes.”

“Yes, of course,” Logan said. “As silly as this exercise may be.”

“Says the guy whose theme song is called ‘Hilarious Comedy Monologue’!” said Roman.

“I really wish you hadn’t found that out. Nevertheless....” He handed over the flags, one to Roman, and one to Virgil. “We’d best get going. Silly or not, I do not intend to lose.”

“Nor do I,” commented Janus. He winked, stepped over the line into his team’s territory, and walked off into the trees.

…

The first part of the game went well. Surprisingly well, actually. The others had only stolen one of the silver flags, but Virgil’s team had already managed to take two of theirs.

And Virgil was getting very close to where he suspected the final golden flag was hidden.

He was almost at the edge of the playing area. It made sense, hiding the flag here—it meant Virgil’s team had to walk further to get it without being caught, and gave the others more time to catch them on the way back, as well. The trees in this area were coarser, and darker, and the sun barely reached the forest floor. Virgil almost expected spooky atmospheric music to drift through the air.

He hopped over a fallen tree, ducked under some vines, and he saw it.

The golden flag, its two foot pole stuck in the ground, just barely not hidden enough to break the rules where it stood in a clump of undergrowth.

Virgil crouched, looking around for any sides who might have been trying to guard the flag. The area was silent—eerily so, suspiciously so.

He reached down and grabbed a stone from the ground at his feet, leaned back, and threw it. It hit a tree twenty feet in the opposite direction from the flag.

A clump of undergrowth exploded.

Remus, coated in twigs, leaves, and mud and clearly not at all bothered by it, raced out of his hiding place. “GOT YOU!” he shrieked, running towards the tree the rock had hit.

Meanwhile, Virgil darted out of his own hiding place. He snatched the flag, yanking it out of the stubborn ground (which he was sure Remus would have claimed as an accidental obstacle), and raced back the way he had come.

“Hey, no fair!” Remus cried, although he was cackling the whole time. Virgil could hear him crashing through the trees, trying to catch up. “JAN! VIRGEY’S GOT THE FLAG!”

Suddenly, Janus appeared in front of Virgil, and Virgil ducked around him, still running. He could see another shape running through the trees to his left—the remaining side on their team, probably trying to keep him from making a break that way. The joke was on him, though. Virgil knew exactly where the border was: straight ahead.

Still, three on one wasn’t exactly in Virgil’s favor. He was panting, already out of breath.

Janus appeared in front of him again—okay, he was definitely cheating, whether or not Virgil could prove it—and Virgil darted off to the right.

He ran for a while, dodging through trees and trying to lose them, when he spotted something: a crack in the earth.

A hole?

Virgil darted for it, relieved to find it was the perfect size to hide in. He jumped in, snatched a few branches, and dragged them over the top.

He tried to quiet his breath, there in the dark, the rich scent of moist earth overpowering.

A few seconds passed.

“Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know.”

“He can’t have just disappeared—those goody two shoes sides wouldn’t break the rules.”

“We’d know if he made it over the border. He still has to be around somewhere. Let’s split up, find him. Janus, go that way. I’ll go this way. Remus, you stick around here, and back the way we came. He might assume we think he won’t go there again.”

Shoot, Virgil thought, holding his breath. He had been thinking of doubling back and sneaking around them.

“We do know he’s going for the border,” Janus said. “Perhaps we ought to go there. He can’t hide in the open. And that way, once we have the flag back, it’ll be even easier for one of us to head into their side. We can’t just play defense, one flag left or not.”

There was a thoughtful hum. “Okay. You and I will go do that. Remus, you look around here.”

Two sets of footsteps walked away. For a moment, there was silence, and then a loud thump! Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. Somehow, he managed not to make any noise.

“Ah, this sure would be more fun with you, wouldn’t it?” Remus crooned. Virgil could clearly picture him caressing the morningstar that he doubtlessly held, probably with bits of tree bark pierced on the spikes.

There was a rustle of leaves, and Remus was gone, too.

Virgil counted to twenty, and then slowly pushed away the branches above him.

All three of the others were gone.

“Finally,” Virgil muttered. He grunted, dragging himself out of the hole, and reached to pull the flag out. He got to his feet, dusting himself off. A worm fell out of his hair. Gross.

“There you are!”

“F*ck,” said Virgil. He spun around, and there was Remus, grinning, his morningstar held in both hands.

Remus let out a battle cry and ran forwards, his weapon vanishing, and Virgil took off. His feet pounded on the earth, the golden flag streaming out behind him as he zigzagged through the trees and jumped over branches and rocks.

He was starting to leave Remus behind, thanks to his quick reflexes and a few stumbles on the part of the darkly creative side, when suddenly, the ground grew sticky. His feet sunk into it, the earth reluctant to let him go. It only got worse, and within seconds, Virgil felt like was dragging his limbs through wet concrete.

“Did you really just turn the ground into quicksand?” Virgil cried, outraged. He was quickly sinking, already buried nearly to his waist. Clearly, Remus was using cartoon physics in his manipulation of the Imagination. Virgil knew that real quicksand wouldn’t act this fast, or in any likelihood be this deep.

“I sure did!” Remus sing-songed. He loped up along Virgil’s side, leaned over, and snatched the flag away from him.

“Give that back and let me out of here! You’re cheating!

“Now, now, Virgil, I’m just using my natural talents! There’s nothing wrong with that! Besides, think of all the other things I could have done! I could have dropped you in a pit of snakes! Made a minefield of mousetraps and Legos! Or we could have played “the floor is lava”! Or, ooh, have you ever seen Honey I Shrunk the Kids?”

“The rules said no weapons!”

“Sand isn’t a weapon!”

Virgil glared at him, looking around for anything to grab onto and pull himself out. “I get it, I get it,” he snapped. “You’re very creative. Now let me out!”

“Hmmm, I don’t think I will,” Remus laughed, starting to walk away sassily, waving the flag over his shoulder. “Byyyye! I’ll try to come back before you die!”

“REMUS!!”

…

Virgil wasn’t sure how long he was stuck.

Something about the sand made it impossible to sink out and teleport elsewhere, however hard he tried. Virgil didn’t know how. It probably had something to do with being in the Imagination, and the higher amount of power that certain sides had while they were here. He suspected it was intended as a parting “prank” from Remus.

Thankfully, the rate at which he sank seemed to slow down drastically after Remus disappeared—but by the time he heard footsteps again, coming up from somewhere to his left, Virgil had sunk past his shoulders in the quicksand.

“Hey!” Virgil demanded, struggling harder again. “What the hell!”

“Virgil?”

Relief flooded through him. “Roman.”

The white-and-red clothed figure appeared. “There you are! Logan and I have been looking everywhere! You never came back!”

Virgil did his best to gesture at his current situation with his head. “Yeah, I got held up. Want to help me out of here, Princey?”

“Of course—here.” Roman stepped closer, the quicksand solidifying under his feet, and reached for Virgil. Virgil pulled his arms free, with difficulty, and latched onto Roman, who dragged him out.

Virgil flopped onto the ground—sweet, solid ground—and panted, looking up at the criss-crossing branches. “I really, really hate your brother,” he grunted.

“The feeling is mutual,” Roman said.

Virgil struggled to his feet, and sighed, looking down at his ruined clothes. He shook his arms, trying to dislodge some of the sandy slop that clung to his beloved hoodie.

“Here, let me get that.” Roman snapped his fingers, and the remaining quicksand on his clothes disappeared, as well as the pit of it behind them. “Good?”

“Thanks. Much better.”

“The Dark Sides got another one of our flags,” Roman told him. “Logan’s guarding the last one, so it’s you and me on getting the last flag.”

“Yeah, I almost had it,” Virgil sighed. “But I do know where it is.”

“Oh—If you got caught, don’t you have to walk back to the border first, then, and come back?”

“Who cares? Remus broke the rules first. He was going to let me drown in quicksand! The bets are off. We’re going, now.”

Roman grinned, summoning his sword. “Alright. Let’s do this, then.”

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waokevale · 4 years

Text

Porcelain Face - Chapter 3

WARNING: Sexual Harrassment

Bullying, F-Girls....

(At least brain-bleatching, not detailed, no touching. Just cringy words)

Two weeks later Logan was about to walk past the corner when he noticed Virgil with a bunch of the "dressed up" girls.

He hid himself quickly inspecting the scene before further investigation.

The girls were all laughing at the poor cardboard boy and pulling by his hair and clothes.

Some of them called him names like:

-"Stupid fag" or "freak"

All of these were very rude and unacceptable.

He pulled out his phone real quick and recorded the rest of the scene.

He wasn't planning on showing it to the principal yet.

The girls had to pay a bigger price than just detention or calling their parents.

It was clear it wasn't something rare to happen to Virgil from his poor state.

Logan started to form a plan until he heard the girls talking about him and he froze.

Maybe that's another way to get rid of them?

-"Hey Jess, what do you think about the new hot teacher?"

Said one of the girls which made usually emotionless Logan cringe on the inside with only the thought.

-"Same as you Diana. I bet I could smash him till Monday comes, Miller passed, Jenkins passed, so how could this be harder? Just look at me, he won't resist it when I pull out my lipstick."

Now Logan was sick. What the hell was wrong with these girls?! Having affairs with their teachers?! Clearly not seeing the fact that he was gay.

Now they NEEDED to be thrown out.

Logan already had experience with it, since he didn't really care about people much do to his emotionless state.

He got rid of some students in his high school easily for yet unknown reasons.

Now was the time to return to the old bad habits...He thought.

But this was worth it.

This boy needed to be at least a little bit happier.

Logan knew that there were a lot more bullies but he had easily spotted the "real" bullies.

Some had pretty bad issues from what he could see, some were doing this because of a bribe and the other ones....they did it for fun, they had no issues at all, these were the ones that deserved it the most. The sadistic people.

The girls belonged to the last type of bullies.

They clearly made him sick.

He had evidence now, but he had to set up something greater.

'So Jessica says she wants to "smash me"? I wonder how does she even do that.... She probably tells the teacher to meet him in some class after school from what I've heard.

He started thinking of a new plan this time, but in that moment Diana and Jessica had started talking about where and when is Jessica going to meet him at.

It was all in whispers, but Logan had "good ears." Class 24, 3.20 PM

-"So be it" Logan said to himself.

He had just the perfect equipment prepared for things like that.

Later on Jessica asked Logan to meet him in the same exact place and time she mentioned before.

He agreed obviously...

For a reason.

When the clock had finally shown 3.20 PM, Logan was already in the class, waiting.

When Jessica came into the classroom he honestly wanted to puke. She looked like a hoe bag or some sort of prostitute, he would've described it if it wasn't so....disturbing and slutty.

-"May I ask you, what on earth are you wearing, Jessica?" - Logan said with an annoyed look.

-"Awww, come on Mr.Berry you know you like it~"

Stay calm Logan... He said to himself

it usually was easy, probably becuase he didn't have to deal with girls like this all the time.

Then he reminded himself of the plan.

Act and ask the questions.

-"I'm not sure, Jessica. What are you even trying to do...?" He obviously was waiting for the cringiest answer

-"You~" - She said in a lustful voice

-"Wait a minute. Would you mind answering my questions first? Because I have three."

She signed with a bored expression and replied: -"ugh...Fine. Shoot."

-"Am I the first one that you're willing to....ugh...you know...?" He stuttered a bit but it was clear that she knew what he meant.

-"Depends, do you want it to be?"

She smirked.

-"Answer, honestly. Please? "

-"Nope you're not the first one, I've fucked Miller, Jenkins and even that one substitute teacher....what was his...Oh! Yeah, Rayens and a bunch of other high school guys, if that's what you wanted to hear."

First one, check. Logan thought.

-"Ummm....May I ask about your honest opinion about one certain student? I won't get mad as long as you answer honestly."

-"Kay'..Which one is it?" She asked.

-"Virgil, the cardboard boy."

-"Pffffff...Haha! That loser? I think he's a useless fag honestly. And- uhhh...Sorry teach' for swearing I guess...?"

-Mhm" Logan nodded.

As he thought, a horrible person, really.

-"Jess? May I ask you that third question and get this over with."

-"Sure~ I thought the same." She replied.

-"What the hell did you have had in your mind to even think of such a pathetic way!? People are not dolls, why do you "score them" ?

-"Just because your wifey says so, doesn't mean I can't play."

-"First of, I don't have a wife and i'm not willing to have one"

"Ohhh, So you're si-"

-"Please just shut up.

I will never have an affair with you, young miss.

You are definitely too young for my liking and I'm not foolish enough for this.

Second, I'm really sorry you haven't noticed yet but I do not feel attraction to women."

-"W-wha-?!"

-"In other words, yes I'm one of these "stupid fags" that you've been calling homosexual people."

-"UGH!? WHY DID I EVEN WASTED MY TIME WITH YOU!? YOU'LL SEE THEY WILL FIRE YOU FOR THAT, HAH! THEY'LL BELIEVE ME THAT YOU'RE MOLESTING ONE OF YOUR STUDENTS AND YOU'LL GO ON COURT, HAHA!" She yelled.

-"If I could I would laugh in that moment, you are clearly missing something. Nothing of what you have just said will become true, because the principal has already heard about this."

-"W-what are you talking about?! You must be joking! Hahaha! Very funny." the girl laughed nervously.

The door suddenly swung open as the very angry principal has came into the room.

-"YOUNG LADY, MIND EXPLAINING ME WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO DO?!"

-"N-Nothing! I swear! He tried to molest me and forced me to wear these clothes!" She faked crying but no one could believe her.

-"I don't think I would be able to, you know? Since well, I've already told you I'm homosexual."

-"Quit the act, Miss Willow. You've violated the most important rules in this school and ruined it's reputation. I'm very sorry, but I'll have to kick you out and apparently a bunch of your friends, including some teachers as well..."

-"W-what?! No! No! My parents won't let you- they won't believe you!"

-"I have enough evidence that I think they will, Jessica." Logan said plainly showing her the videos.

-"NO-"

-"Check-mate."

Before the "act" Logan had set up a microphone and a small camera that was hidden in one of the paintings like in the thriller movies.

That was the the fall of one of the most popular girls and the worst bullies of their Academy High.

Logan had her in his little finger.

It was as simple as a chess game.

She was really naive, huh? She thought everyone was going to serve her and that was her Achilles's foot.

-"Pssst what happened to Jess and a bunch of other people??" - One kid asked in whisper.

-"I heard that someone has recorded her while trying to seduce one of the teachers, he somehow made her reveal her dark secrets and she got caught and kicked out!" Someone else replied.

-"That's good that she and her squad are gone. I hated them anyways." - Roman said simply.

-"Yeah, she sucked. She was a total slut." Remus added with a squimish expression at the uncomfortable thought..

Logan saw as everyone reacted to Jessica's and her friends fall as he turned to the twins.

He thought:

'Such mean words, yet such fragile hearts,

I wonder when they'll finally drop they act...'

#logan sanders #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts virgil #ts anxiety #ts logan #ts remus #ts roman #roman sanders #remus sanders

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galactic-magick · 4 years

Text

Falling into Place: Virgil x Reader

Request: could I request a shy!reader x Virgil fic? like, maybe insecure transmale has it *bad* and it's super obvious, but they keep running away when asked about it, but like, it still ends super fluffy and cute? -anon

Summary: Fluff, a dash of angst, and some Uno on the side with our good boi Virgil.

Words: 900+

Warnings: insecurity, angst

Author’s Notes: I’m so happy to finally be writing again!! My semester just ended today so I’ll be able to get back to my requests :) Hope you like this, anon!

It’s another day hanging out with the sides, but you can’t seem to relax. Everyone’s just casually talking and laughing, sharing funny stories and whatnot, but there’s only one thought going through your head right now.

Virgil is sitting next to you.

And not just next to you, but less than a foot, probably.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it’s ridiculous. You’ve been friends with all of them for a while now, yet Virgil is more than that. He can make you flustered just by smiling at you or saying hello. He can be cute simply by existing.

What’s worse is that you can’t imagine him ever feeling the same way about you. You can’t even bring yourself to try to get closer to him out of fear of rejection. There’s so much that could go wrong.

“Hey, you okay?” Patton asks you.

“Yeah, sorry, just… zoned out,”

“Something on your mind?”

“No I’m fine,” you can’t bear the weight of everyone staring at you now. “I’m just gonna get some water,”

Thankfully the attention isn’t on you anymore by the time you get back, since Patton suggested a game of Uno and is dealing out the cards.

Virgil takes a look at his cards and leans over, “You got a reverse card?”

“Um…” you stiffen a bit and glance at your cards. “…yeah,”

“I’ll give you a sign when to use it, I’m gonna plus four Roman,”

“Hey! No alliances!” Roman scolds. You purse your lips together to try to hold in your laughter, to no avail.

“I’ll be your ally Roman!” Patton offers, scooting closer to him.

“That isn’t how the game works! We’re not changing the rules for a couple of lovebirds!”

Both you and Virgil are silent, pretending not to hear him.

“May I ask if we can begin or are you going to continue bickering like middle schoolers?” Logan inquires, setting down the first card. Everyone sighs and drops it, placing down their cards at their turn.

After a few rounds, Virgil nudges you and winks. It doesn’t register at first, but you put down the reverse card and grin.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry Roman, but I’m just not,” Virgil puts down the plus four.

“No!” Roman gasps. “They’re in cahoots! They’re in cahoots!”

“Don’t be a sore loser Roman, we’re not ‘in cahoots,’”

“Falsehood,” Logan pulls out a new vocab card, “But go off I guess,”

“Fine,” Roman begrudgingly picks up the cards and glares at both of you. “But I’ll be watching,”

Patton ends up winning the game, and it appears that no friendships are completely broken. Logan excuses himself to go get some work done and Virgil runs upstairs to grab something.

“I’m not actually mad at you guys, in case you were wondering,” Roman assures you. “You actually make quite the handsome duo,”

“Oh, we’re not-“

“I was thinking the same thing Roman!” Patton squeals.

“I, um,” your whole body feels hot and shaky. You really don’t need everyone to know about this, and Virgil could come back any second now. “I think I’m gonna head out, guys,” you gather your things and move towards the door.

“What, why?”

“I…I don’t feel good,”

“Aw, I’m sorry kiddo. Anything we can do to help?”

“I think I just need to go home,”

Before anyone else can object, you’re already out the door.

That was a disaster.

You flop face down on your bed in your apartment, trying to release all the tension. Did you seriously just chicken out that badly? Why couldn’t you just change the subject? Or better yet, just admit your feelings so you don’t have to deal with it anymore?

They’re all your friends, you know they love you and support you. So why is it so difficult to confess a stupid little crush?

“Hey Y/N? You in there?” you hear a knock on the door.

Shit.

You get up and open the door. Virgil is standing in front of you with a couple bags and a Tupperware container, smiling at you sheepishly.

“Everyone told me you left because you weren’t feeling good, so I thought I’d bring over some things that might help,” you stare at him in shock and move away from the door so he can come in. “I can go if you want me to, but uh, I brought you some soup and stole a bunch of stuffed animals from Patton,”

“Virgil…you didn’t have to do that,”

“I know,” he shrugs, “But I care about you, and I want to do everything I can to help you,”

“But like, why?”

“Cause I like you, alright?” he smiles a bit, but to your surprise he looks just as terrified as you are. “I really like you, actually,”

You wish you could trick yourself into believing he’s messing with you, but he’s clearly not. This is real. It’s happening.

“I,” you mumble, “I like you too,”

“So, is it okay if I stick around?”

You nod vigorously, “Mhmm,” he opens his arms to you and you fall into them, blushing like an idiot.

He stays with you the rest of the day, making you feel more loved than you ever have in your life. You eat the soup he made you and a bunch of comfort snacks, and before you know it your head is rested on his chest in front of the TV.

He holds you close to him and lets you play with his hair, humming softly while you both watch the movie.

For once, everything feels right. You feel safe, you feel cared for, and you feel happy. It was always supposed to be this way, and now you get to spend the foreseeable future with the emo boy you fell in love with.

I feel like this is like the third fic I’ve done that ends in snuggles but like are we really complaining y’all ??

#virgil sanders x reader #virgil sanders #sanders sides x reader #sanders sides #thomas sanders #i'm really out here posting fics at 1am huh #DONT WORRY I'M GOING TO SLEEP NOW #self care lads #logan is dissapointed in my sleep schedule we been knew #but logan aint here is he #it's virgil's time to shine today

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fandersrequests · 4 years

Text

Prompt Fill | Moceit

Title: You Win Some, You Steal Some

Chapter: Chapter One: Good News, Bad News

Ship(s): Main Ship - Moceit (Eventual), Background Ships - 3 Surprise Ships

Summary: Janus Noirblanc may not be a real parent but he's every bit the dedicated guardian as all the PTA parents. When his little brother and ward comes home with a flyer advertising the next PTA bake sale, Janus decides its time to show these rich kid's parents how its done. Especially the cute dad with the cardigan always tied around his neck.

Prompt: PTA rivals. She did say in her prompt "plot twist - they are dating" but considering muse decided that this is gonna be a Big Ol' Fic, I'm hoping she forgives me.

Requester: @sunshineandteddybears

Rating: PG-13

Chapters: One | Two

If you prefer AO3′s format, you can find the fanfic here. Also, the tag for this specific story/au is ywsyss au, if you want to track it for updates as I don’t do tag lists.

Chapter One: Good News, Bad News

"Hey."

Janus looked up from the newspaper he had been reading, heterochromatic eyes seeking the owner of the voice that had sounded through the apartment.

“Virgil. My favorite son. Tell me, how was school today?” Janus called back.

The boy in question stepped into the living room, dropping his messenger bag by the couch. Janus caught the tail end of the double eye roll, smirking.

“You’re crazier than I thought if you think I’m suddenly gonna tell you shit. Just because you are my guardian does not mean I’m gonna open up to you. You’re still my older brother and I’m not your son.”

“Sure thing, Hamilton.”

Janus watched as his younger brother came to the couch, stretching his limbs for a few seconds. The older man snorted at the thought that he looked like a slinky alley cat stretching like that. A few more seconds and Virgil had slunk so far down into the couch that it almost seemed as if the couch was absorbing him.

Silence fell between them but it was comfortable. It did make him think about the people who were awed when he told them he was raising his kid brother. They were certain Virgil must be a terror. He laughed and wiped invisible tears of glee before setting them straight; if anything, Janus was likely more of a terror for Virgil than the other way around.

“Oh. I have something for you. Er, well… two somethings.”

Janus raised a brow, an interested expression slipping onto his face.

“Oh?”

Virgil blushed then. Or was it blanched. Honestly, it looked a lot like both with the way his cheeks were splotchy here and there. A hand rose to rub at the back of his neck and it was this along with the fact that Virgil would no longer look him in the eyes that told Janus that at least one of these something was a “bad” something.

“Do I want to know?”

Virgil hesitated, his lip bit suddenly and he started to rock. Janus felt a rush of fear, knowing the signs that a panic attack could very well be not too far off. He took deep breaths himself and Virgil’s own breathing soon followed. The older man felt a rush of relief as he watched Virgil take one single deep, deep breath before letting it out slowly. Janus smiled at Virgil when the other looked his way once more, the pride easy to read in his gaze. Virgil said nothing about the almost attack. They had agreed with Virgil’s psychiatrist, Dr. Picani, that—for Virgil—bringing up the act could cause more anxiety so soon after and so they pretended as if nothing had happened until Virgil was fully calmed.

“Okay, good news or bad news first?”

“Bad.” It would definitely benefit them both to end on the good note.

Virgil nodded, having expected that, and rose. Janus watched as his brother made his way to his bag, crouching down to rummage through it. Virgil presumably pulled paper from it as when he stood up and returned, there were a couple sheets of paper in his hand. Virgil quickly shoved one of them at him.

Janus took it, brow quirked as he took in the fear in Virgil’s eyes. Glancing down, Janus could see why. The paper was his most recent report card and Virgil had not done too well.

Honestly though, it was definitely not his worst report card. In fact, his brother’s grades had been improving significantly over the last year and a half—ever since their parents had died in that car crash—and though Virgil tried to play it off, Janus made sure he told Virgil he was proud. Still, this report card showed he was still struggling in Algebra and Chemistry. Janus was certain that this time it was less depression and grief and more that Virgil just was not a natural at the “left brain” subjects.

“Okay, so… we need a little more focus and study in Algebra and Chemistry but Virgil… this really isn’t that bad. You’ve had far worse cards than this—understandably so considering… well, not important. Point is, we can work with this, Virge. This does mean I’ll have to get you a tutor.”

Virgil suddenly stirred from his slouch, straightening up more than normal.

“I’ve actually got a friend who knows this guy in our grade who is like… really smart. Especially in these subjects. Roman gave me his number if you want it?”

Janus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know why but he was certain he could hear a hint of hope but that didn’t make sense…

Oh. The boy’s got a crush on this kid.

He laughed silently to himself, not wishing to let Virgil in on the fact that he had figured out why he was acting a little strange. Part of him did want to tease but he decided that could wait.

“Okay, yeah. Sure. I’ll have to interview him, of course.”

Virgil’s pupils dilated, presumably out of fear or worry but he masked his expression quick enough. When he nodded, Janus grinned.

“Well, there it is then. All figured out. I’m going to hold onto this though.”

Setting it on his lap, he nodded at the second sheet of paper that Virgil had retrieved, still clutched firmly in his hand.

“And what’s this one?”

Virgil’s brows screwed up in confusion until he looked down at the paper in his hand, as if he had forgotten he was still holding it. Likely, Janus supposed, considering his fear at giving him the report card.

“Oh! Right. That bake sale thing you always get so gung-ho about… they were passing out these in our classes. For the PTA. I thought, since you love cooking and baking so much, that you might enjoy it but then again, it’s for the PTA and you’re not really my parent and you probably think its dumb and I’m starting to regret calling it good news but… yeah.”

Janus snorted and shook his head.

“I mean, probably usually you would be right but I would love nothing more than to out bake all those prissy moms.”

Virgil snorted.

“Why am I not surprised?” he asked as he handed Janus the flyer.

Janus looked the flyer over. According to it, the bake sale would be the Saturday next at the school gym, 10:00 AM sharp. Janus would have to get off work that day but honestly, it would be so worth it. In fact, he supposed he might as well take Friday off as well. If he was going to out bake the rich kid’s parents then he was going all in. No sense doing something half assed, especially when showing rich people up.

“I guess this means I’ll have to join the PTA. Any idea who runs it?”

“Logan’s mom… oh, uh… Logan being the guy that—”

“Yes, yes. The tutoring kid. I’ll just ask to talk to her when I call him about setting up some sessions.”

Virgil blushed but said nothing as he slid his hands into the pockets of his favorite hoodie. Janus held back a teasing grin, not wanting to let his little brother in on the fact he figured it out.

“Cool,” he said finally.

“Mmhm.”

Janus could feel the air around them growing awkward and he let Virgil chill in that awkward for a good, healthy few moments before clapping his hands together.

“Well, I’d say that’s enough excitement for the evening. Now, I was going to cook but after this trying time due to that Report Card—”

“Ass.”

“—I don’t really feel up to it. How about I let you drive my car and you go pick us up some burgers or something?”

Virgil perked up after that, happily accepting the errand since it meant he got to drive. Janus had made sure that Virgil took Driver’s Ed and then the driving test, but they couldn’t afford a second car so Janus let Virgil drive when there were short errands that could be done close by.

“Great.” Janus tossed his little brother the keys. “Be sure to readjust the mirrors and wear your seat belt.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Janus made a face at that before staring at his little brother pointedly. Virgil sighed.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But I do know all this stuff… but I know you’re just looking out for me.”

It was the closest he would get to a thank you and Janus was happy to take it.

“I’ll text you what I want so you have it when you get there.”

Virgil nodded. Janus watched as he subconsciously checked for his wallet, phone, and keys in his hand. He smiled, knowing that he had taught Virgil that and it was so nice to see it stick. Next, Janus handed Virgil his card.

“Fill the car up first. Then get the food.”

“Kay. See you, loser.”

“Heh. See you soon, V.”

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ghost-in-the-hella · 4 years

Note

19 with Victoria Chase and Chloe?

For whatever reason, I can’t seem to keep chaseprice stories short! Sorry this took so long, but I hope it’s worth it. I also immediately thought chaseprice when I saw that prompt (“According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”), so thanks for being on the same page with me there :) Unbeta’d and virtually unrevised despite how long it took me to write it, so please take it with a grain of salt.

Content warnings for misogynistic insults, underage drinking and drug use, and implied attempted sexual assault. Because teens in Arcadia Bay are awful to each other.

---

Chloe hasn’t seen Rachel since the first hour of the party. She stopped even getting texts from her about twenty minutes ago. She can already feel the familiar shapes of the argument they’re going to have tomorrow morning. Chloe will accuse Rachel of ditching her and ignoring her texts. Depending on how pissed she is, she might trot out the old dead horse about being abandoned by Max and flog that for a bit while Rachel fails to keep from rolling her eyes. Then Rachel will remind her about their agreement, that they’re both free agents and maybe if Chloe acted more like a free agent and less like a cuckolded wife she wouldn’t be so pissy all the time.

It’ll go back and forth for hours with Chloe whining about her abandonment issues and Rachel claiming that Chloe’s suffocating her, and at the end of it nothing will have changed. They’ll kiss and make up like they always do, but as soon as the next Vortex Club event comes around Rachel will insist on dragging Chloe and then she’ll ditch her in a crowd of people she hates and the whole cycle will start over again.

The whole thing is fucking exhausting, and Chloe’s sick of it.

Not as sick as Victoria Chase is, though; damn. It’s a hell of a sight: the Queen Bitch of Blackwell teetering drunkenly on ill-advised high heels - possibly only still on her feet because of the bodies of people dancing around her - and looking like she’s contemplating puking in her purse. She looks awful.

It would be more amusing if Rachel were there to make fun of her with Chloe. It would also be more amusing if it weren’t so painfully pathetic. Chloe’s way too sober to enjoy the sordid spectacle. Being the designated driver sucks ass, especially when the literal whole point of these parties is to get wasted.

Chloe almost jumps out of her skin when her phone suddenly - finally - buzzes in her pocket.

Rachel: U still at the party?

Chloe scowls at her phone.

Chloe: of fucking course i am

Chloe: where else would i be??

Chloe: im ur fucking dd

Rachel: o right! Srry I already caught a ride

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

Rachel: c u 2morro tho

Rachel: 2 whales date? Not 2 early tho

Rachel: this hangover’s gona be a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch

Rachel: luv u <3 <3 <3 xoxoxo

Rachel: xxx

Rachel: ;P

Chloe buries her phone in her pocket, fuming. She can actually feel the anger rising off of her skin like steam. Obviously there’s no reason for her to continue being a designated driver if Rachel’s already fucked off with whatever Blackwell jock or cheerleader she’s decided to rail tonight. Chloe’s free to crash on the couch tonight with the rest of the drunk losers. Pass out in the bathtub maybe. There’s tons of booze in the kitchen; she should start there. Stoners are usually in the basement; they shouldn’t be hard to sniff out. Maybe if she’s lucky she’ll find the folks who’re always doing coke in some random bedroom or office and score a noseful. It’s not like she’s got classes in the morning. She can afford to live a little, as long as she’s not actually paying for it.

Chloe starts to push her way through the crowd to the kitchen.

“Watschh where yrr fffuckin goin…” slurs a messy but recognizable voice as a hand grips Chloe’s upper arm.

Jesus Christ, Victoria’s even more wasted than Chloe thought at first glance. Her hand on Chloe’s arm might be the only thing keeping her upright at the moment, which is the only reason why Chloe doesn’t immediately tear herself away.

“Careful, Vicky; poverty might be contagious.” Chloe attempts to pry Victoria’s fingers from around her arm to no avail.

The idiot jock standing behind Victoria laughs at that, but Victoria just looks confused. And drunk. So very, very drunk.

“Ffffug you, Chhhloe,” Victoria slurs out.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you must be shitfaced. That was practically my real name!” She carefully shoves Victoria back off of her arm as the jock moves to steady Victoria by holding onto her waist.

“C’mon, babe,” he says, leaning close to her ear. He grins at Chloe and winks like he thinks she’s in on some kind of conspiracy with him, which immediately pisses Chloe off. “I’ve got it from here,” he informs her.

Victoria groans something inarticulate and tries to push the jock away, but she ends up just stumbling back into his stupidly broad chest. She really shouldn’t get so drunk and wear such high heels at the same time; clearly, it’s a dangerous combination.

“Dude, I don’t think she wants to go with you,” Chloe says as calmly as she can. She really doesn’t want to get involved. She wants to get drunk and stoned and so blitzed out of her mind that she forgets all about being pissed at Rachel. She doesn’t want to get sucked into whatever drama Victoria’s got brewing tonight. But she also really doesn’t want to watch a drunk girl get mauled by some entitled meathead, even if said drunk girl is a royal pain in her ass.

“Nah, she’s good. Just needs some fresh air. C’mon, Tori, let’s go for a walk.”

“Don’ ffffuggin call me Tori,” Victoria growls, tugging her arm out of his too-firm grip and nearly falling right off her ridiculous and undoubtedly overpriced heels. “Iss Victoria.”

The creep ignores her and tugs on her arm again, toppling her into his body once more. “It’s cool,” he attempts to assure Chloe. “We’re friends. I’ll get her home safe.”

“She definitely doesn’t want to go with you. Let her go.”

“Dude, be cool! She’s just being a bitch. You know what Tori’s like.” He holds Victoria’s wrists to curtail her squirming.

“Fuggoff!”

Chloe cracks her knuckles loudly enough to get the jock’s attention. “I’ve got better things to do with my left hand tonight than break it on your nose, but if you don’t unhand her in the next five seconds I’ll do it anyway.”

That gives the jock pause, but he doesn’t look like he quite believes her. “You wouldn’t.”

Chloe shrugs. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Logan why his nose slants to the right? Although he’ll probably lie. Ask his ex-girlfriend; she’ll tell you the truth.”

---

As Chloe guides a stumbling and incessantly bitching Victoria through the dark toward her truck, she silently curses every decision in her life that led her to this moment. It’s actually not that different from drunk-walking Rachel home after a party, except that when Victoria keeps touching her boob it’s probably accidental. Probably.

“Where’ss Nathan?” Victoria whines, head lolling onto Chloe’s shoulder and smearing a healthy quantity of expensive makeup into her favorite Firewalk shirt. Which is fine. Not like Chloe can’t just steal another one next time they have a 2010 tour. Time travel’s a thing, right?

“I have no idea where Prescock is. Surprised he’s not doing shots out of your cleavage.”

Victoria’s trying to text, but she keeps almost dropping her phone. “Where are theese bisches?” Victoria grumbles as her manicured fingers jab and swipe at the screen of her phone with the dexterity of a toddler with two handfuls of butter. “Sposdt to be my frens…”

Victoria’s entire focus is on her phone when it should really be on walking. Chloe tugs her upright and tries to steer her for the umpteenth time. “Can it wait til we’re in the truck at least?”

Victoria grinds to a halt and finally tears her eyes from her phone. “M’not gedding into that… that…” Victoria flails at Chloe’s truck and nearly falls over. “Deathtrap.”

“You had to get a tetanus shot to live in the dorms, right? You’ll be fine.” Chloe grips Victoria’s elbow with one hand to keep her upright and wrangles the passenger door open with the other. “Go on, get in.”

Victoria glares at Chloe foggily. “Are you khhidnappng me, Price?”

“...That’s a joke, right?”

Victoria whacks Chloe solidly in the sternum with her phone. “B’cause I’ll haf you know, my frens will put your assss in jail like that.” Victoria tries and fails to snap her fingers, then stares at them as if she cannot comprehend why they are not obeying her.

Chloe rubs at her sore sternum in annoyance. “Yeah, well, maybe your ‘frens’ should be the ones getting your drunk ass safely back to the dorms instead of abandoning you and letting random creepers paw at you. Then maybe I could get my drunk on in peace instead of wasting my weekend cleaning your puke out of my truck.”

Chloe’s expecting some pushback. Victoria hasn’t even touched her truck, much less puked in it. What she isn’t expecting is for Victoria to shove her phone in Chloe’s face. “You texx thm.” Victoria reaches for the door handle, yanks the door open, and unsteadily clambers into Chloe’s truck.

“Ow, what the fuck! You want me to text your friends?”

“Tell’m yer kidnappin me.”

“Uh, okay, no, I’m not doing that. But I can text your friends if there’s someone you’d rather get a ride with.”

Chloe carefully shuts Victoria’s door and walks around her truck to the driver’s side, thumbing through Victoria’s message history. She tries Nathan first, even though she can see that Victoria’s last ten messages to him have gone unanswered.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Nathan: whothFUCKisthis

Victoria: a good samaritan. seriously tho your friend is halfway to passed out, can you help?

Nathan: fuckoffBITCH

Victoria: god why does victoria even like you?

She tries Courtney next.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Courtney: I don’t know, can Victoria not call my boyfriend a MAN WHORE?

“We’re 0 for 2, Victoria. What’s the name of that blonde girl you’re always hanging around with?”

“Sweetie…”

“Um, what?”

“Goddddd you’re fuckn incomph-- incump-- incompetant. Sweet. T.”

“I have no idea what you’re-- Oh.” Jesus, the girl is literally in Victoria’s phone as Sweet-T. Gaaaaaaayyyy.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Sweet-T: Victoria? Victoria Chase?

Sweet-T: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Sweet-T: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Sweet-T: Tell that bitch good luck.

Sweet-T: Actually wait don’t.

Sweet-T: Tell her to choke.

Sweet-T: Btw Taylor lost her phone.

“Uhh, looks like ‘Sweet-T’ lost her phone. And it’s fallen into the hands of someone who completely hates your pretentious ass; no big surprise there.”

Chloe starts texting Victoria’s contacts at random as Victoria sulks. Most people don’t even respond. The responses she does get are… not encouraging.

Zach: sup biiiiiiiiiiitttcccccccchhhhhh yeah i’ll give vicky a ride ON MY DICK

Hayden: new fone who dis

Brooke: Who is this and how did you get my number? Don’t ever text me again.

Dana: I gott a ride w Jules srry

Juliet: Already back at the dorms. Good luck I guess.

Logan: fukk that bisch wut

“Well, Victoria, looks like none of your friends are coming to help. So you can either let me give you a ride back to campus, or you can pass out on a couch inside and hope for the best.”

“What th hell djou say to them??”

“Just that you needed a safe ride to the dorms. That’s all.”

“Bullsshhhitt. You pissed them off.”

Chloe laughs out loud at that. “I pissed them off?? You pissed them off by being a gigantic asshole!”

“M’ noddan asshole.”

“Oh, no? Well…” Chloe holds up Victoria’s phone and waves it in front of her face. “According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”

Which is how Chloe ends up comforting a sobbing Victoria Chase in a stranger’s driveway and wishing she’d never been born.

---

Chloe: dude. Srsly. Fuck u for abandoning me at that fucking vc party.

Rachel: chloe?

Rachel: wat timesit?

Rachel: w happnd?

Chloe: its 3am

Chloe: and victoria FUCKING chase is passed out on me

Rachel: ur joking

Rachel: omg

Rachel: pls take a pic

Chloe: this isnt funny rach

Rachel: it’s fucking hilarious!

Chloe: its SAD.

Rachel: Wait so

Rachel: did you fuck her?

Chloe: WHAT????

Chloe: NO!!!!!

Rachel: Oh good bc I don’t think there’s enough bleach in the world to clean your soul after fucking victoria chase

Chloe: she’s drunk AF

Chloe: her friends ditched her

Chloe: and i kinda called her an asshole

Chloe: so she cried on my shoulder until she passed out

Chloe: and now i’m trapped

Rachel: Poor baby.

Rachel: Chew your arm off?

Chloe: not funny.

Rachel: Again, totally funny.

Chloe: Srsly tho, what should i do???

Rachel: idk

Rachel: sneak out?

Chloe: we’re in my truck

Rachel: hahahahahahahaha

Rachel: of course you are

Rachel: so wake her bitch ass up!

---

Victoria Chase snores. Nothing in the world could have prepared Chloe for that knowledge. She also drools, which is unfortunate for the state of Chloe’s jacket. Not that it’s the cleanest thing in the world anyway, but still. It’s the principle of the thing.

Victoria’s normally immaculate hair is in a state of total chaotic disarray. At least half of her makeup is gone, and what remains is smeared artlessly all over her face. She smells like a brewery. Chloe’s arm has fallen asleep under the weight of her head. Chloe envies it. The sweet release of sleep would be infinitely preferable to the intense awkwardness of being conscious right now.

The moonlight paints Victoria’s face in delicate shades of pale, highlighting the refined angles of her cheekbone, her jawline, her nose. She’s snoring and drooling and messy and the most utterly awful person; it shouldn’t be possible for her to be beautiful in this moment.

And yet. And yet.

Chloe should shove her awake. She should push Victoria off her shoulder, buckle up both of their seatbelts, and deposit her safely back at the dorms (because even though Victoria’s an objectively horrible person, that doesn’t mean that Chloe is). Chloe should abandon ship, let Victoria sleep it off in the front of her truck while Chloe returns to the party and drinks until she can’t remember what Victoria looks like in the moonlight. Maybe if she drinks enough, by the time she’s sober enough to drive Victoria will have sobered up and found her own way home.

Victoria makes a sleepy sort of grumbling sound and shifts against Chloe’s shoulder, draping an arm over Chloe’s middle and snuggling close. Her hair tickles Chloe’s neck and jaw as it sticks out at peculiar angles, and Chloe wants to laugh or possibly die. There’s really nowhere else for Chloe’s arm to go, so it ends up wrapped around Victoria. Victoria lets out a sound that’s disturbingly close to a contented sigh.

“Hey... Vic?”

“Mphgmhm?”

“Um… Are you aware that you’re cuddling me like I’m your long-lost childhood teddy bear?”

“Grhmphgm.”

“Uh. ‘Kay. Long as you know.”

“Mphkm.” Victoria nuzzles into Chloe’s shoulder, squeezing her tighter. Chloe awkwardly pats her side and Victoria sighs again.

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry about what I said before. I mean, not about you being an asshole, ‘cause I’m not gonna lie. But about your friends. I’m… sure your friends do like you, really.”

Victoria shrugs a little, frowning delicately. “Dsnmttr. Sleeb.”

Sleep. Okay. That’s theoretically possible. Chloe’s slept in more uncomfortable positions in this very truck, after all. So she closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of her seat, and she listens to the steady rhythm of Victoria’s breathing until the world begins to fade into a comforting void.

Shit’s going to be awkward in the morning. But, well. That can wait until the morning.

#writing prompts #prompt fill #chaseprice #life is strange #LiS #background amberprice #chloe price #victoria chase #rachel amber #fanfic

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vmheadquarters · 4 years

Text

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Nineteen of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @elliebear75. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.20 from @beezlebobble -tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER NINETEEN by @elliebear75

Della adjusted her blond wig in the mirror, giving a cursory glance up at the screens across the wall. She was more than a little miffed that no one recognized her as the ghost of Lilly Kane yet, all the times she let them get a quick glance at her before she disappeared again into the secret passageways of the house.

“You’d think that the blond hair and fabulous attitude would be a dead give-away,” she smirked as she followed the action on the screens.

A tinier than usual Veronica hobbled across the television as fast as she could with Logan as her support. They crossed from the second screen to the third and stopped near the corner screen when they found Wallace at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, unconscious. She held her breath and hoped that the trap only winded him as it was supposed to, and not done any real harm. All it took was a press of a button, and Della sent him flying down the wooden staircase, but instead of just landing on his butt and sliding, like so many others before him had done, Wallace seemed to take the tumble hard, rolling all the way down to the bottom. A tinge of regret dropped like a stone in her stomach, but she pushed it aside when she saw him come to. She watched as he wavered when Logan helped him to his feet, but seemed none the worse for wear.

“Sorry, Wallace. I had to do it,” she sighed. “Blame Veronica for getting you into this mess.”

Wallace had once stood up for her when Madison and Gia cut in front of her in line in the cafeteria, and she didn't want to hurt him; it was just an inevitable consequence of her plan. Like Leo. She didn’t mean for her partner to kill him; it just happened. Della felt terrible about that as well since he had been instrumental in getting the information she needed to make this plan work. But it wasn’t like she killed him; it was her partner. He just went a little too far.

Leaning closer to the mirror, she ran her tongue over her teeth and puckered her lips as she checked her lipstick. That retainer was annoying, but her parents were right—she did look better in the long run. In fact, Della looked so good that with some professional make-up tips, contact lenses, and her dyed black hair, hardly anyone recognized her in Neptune anymore. Which was fine. When she graduated last Spring, she left Della Pugh behind at Neptune High with the Pirates.

Now, she was Ruby. Ruby Jetson. Actually, that wasn't true. During the week, she was Ruby Jetson, a fixture on the Neptune Karaoke circuit. On the weekends, she was Madame X, taking over for her mother, the original Madame X, and father, Mister X, who started this murder mystery business after her grandparents left them this property with no sustainable income to support it. When she was a child, Della helped her parents set unwitting traps for guests who gleefully screamed at every turn. With her crooked teeth, frizzy blond hair, and thick glasses, she was born to play the “creepy girl” in the castle. She was pretty proud that she once made a guest pee herself when she appeared in the guest’s bedroom in the middle of the night, dressed in an old-fashioned white dress and powdered make-up as if she was a ghostly apparition and asked the woman if she had "seen her mommy."

But that was why people had come to the island in the first place—for the thrill. Over the decades, her parents hosted Hollywood celebrities, members of Congress, and even a Prince or two (of the musical variety and actual royalty.) No one at school ever suspected that poor little Della was actually a star, on most weekends. Unfortunately for her parents, the business didn't clear a lot of money, so her family was never able to move to a house in the 09er area, and that fact had kept Della the perpetual underdog and general bully-bait all through school.

Veronica Mars wasn’t an 09er either, but somehow, she conquered it all. And Della hated her for it. Not an 09er, but she managed to have a best friend and a boyfriend who were—Lilly and Duncan Kane. Oh, and she acted so much like an 09er back then too, gyrating her way onto the Pep Squad thanks to Lilly. One would have thought that not being one of "them" would have given Veronica some empathy for the little guys, like Della. But when Della caught up to her one day and asked her the reason why Della was rejected from the Pep Squad, Veronica just shrugged and told her to "dance better."

"Dance better," Ruby snarked at the screens. She leaned over the console and pressed her thumb over Veronica's face, focusing on Logan standing next to her.

“Logan. Logan freakin’ Echolls. What in the world do you see in her? Is it the blond hair, because sweetheart, I’m a natural blond too. Is it the drama, because I can give you drama, baby. You just never gave me the chance to show you.”

What really chewed at Ruby was even after Lilly's death and Veronica’s fall from grace, she still managed to eventually date Logan. Logan. The boy who stirred things in young Della (and older Ruby) like no other boy ever had or ever would. Once in tenth grade, she sat behind Logan in the bleachers at a basketball game and just the sight of the back of his neck kept her dreaming about him for years after. That was one of the advantages of being ignored by most of the student population and her "performances" at the mansion—she became good at flying under the radar. Logan and that dumbass friend of his, Dick, never noticed her sitting on a blanket on the sand every Sunday morning, watching them surf at Dog Beach. Never saw her sitting a few rows behind him at the movie theatre. Never noticed her sitting in the lobby of the Neptune Grande the summer after he graduated, as he walked right past her, holding hands with Veronica, looking at her like he would make love to her right there, in front of everyone, if given the opportunity.

Veronica.

Again Veronica.

“I was a freaking teenage outcast too. Why the hell did he have to pick you?” She removed her thumb from over Veronica’s face and hissed at the screen.

When Veronica disappeared to Stanford, Della took it as a good sign. But the night she happened to find herself in the same dive bar as Logan and Dick, he was still whining to Dick about how to get on with his life without Veronica. It was pathetic. Logan was a strong, virile man with so much love to give, and Veronica had crushed his soul...just like she had once crushed young Della’s Pep-Squad dreams. To see Logan stagger drunkenly out of that bar alone tore her heart to shreds, but also made Ruby hate Veronica even more. She had to be stopped. Veronica Mars was not the amazing and brilliant girl everyone thought she was. It was all an act. There was no “magic” to Veronica solving crimes. Just dumb luck. The Veronica Mars that Ruby knew was a snob and a fake and an asshole. She was just very good at making people seem like she was helpful and caring. And this weekend, Ruby would make sure that everyone realized what a phony Veronica truly was.

Walking away from the screens, Ruby adjusted her sparkly purple sweater and smoothed down her tight black jeans as she paced, keeping herself moving in the chilly space. Even though Logan couldn’t see her, she wanted to make sure she dressed her best for him. Or at least her best so she wouldn’t freeze.

“The way these So-Cal beach girls are running around in the snow, I’m surprised they all haven’t died of exposure,” she laughed, pausing to run her hand over the soft nap of her fake-fur coat, hanging on the wall near the door.

It all started when Jen decided to bring on Cindy “Mac” Mackenzie to help her on the weekends. Ruby immediately recognized her through the surveillance screens as the poor girl who had the unfortunate luck to be dating Cassidy Casablancas and be friends with Veronica Mars. As she listened in on Jen and Mac gossiping during their time on the island, she realized that she could orchestrate an even bigger production from even further behind the scenes, one that could right one big wrong in her life. Ruby could lure Veronica and all the people she hated most in school right here, onto her turf, the island with no 09 in the zip code. Then, one by one, she could torment them as she had been tormented by them in school. She would deprive them of food, of sleep, of any sort of psychological rest, and see as they all began to turn on Veronica for not saving their sorry asses. For one weekend, Veronica would be Enid Curtis and know what it truly meant to be the loser, just like Della was for years in school.

Glancing back, Ruby smiled as the players all scurried across the screens. “Who’s dancing for who now, Veronica? Just keep practicing. You’ll get better at this murder-mystery thing.”

It was all going according to plan. Well, almost. The only thing that wasn’t to plan was Leo. And Madison. She didn’t really mean for them to die. It seemed that her “muscle” in this venture ended up being a bit of a loose cannon, something Ruby didn’t really account for. But then again, Jen had proved herself to be mildly unreliable as well. As Madam X, Ruby left exact instructions about who to invite tonight. The fact that Duncan Kane appeared was as a surprise to her as the rest of the guests.

The door to the control room opened, and Della spun on her heels, watching as the figure shook the snow off his black parka hood and stomped his heavy boots off on the ground.

"Okay. I got rid of that Deputy's body and hid it where you told me." Lenny Sopher removed his hood and ran his fingers through his hair. "Now what?"

"Now? Now we wait. And you stop killing people.” Ruby folded her arms over her chest, protecting herself from the chill Lenny brought in with him.

His throaty chuckle resonated in the small room. Slowly, methodically, he peeled off his parka and hung it on the old wooden hook, next to Ruby’s.

“Look, you have your fun with them, and I’ll have mine.”

“I just want to expose Veronica as a dumb-bitch, so Logan finally realizes he’s better off without her and moves on. Make her a laughing-stock. Possibly make Gia Goodman wet herself with fear. But that last one is a pie-in-the-sky sort of fun. You’re out there actually killing people, and it’s not cool.”

“Not cool?” Lenny turned, a smirk crossing his face as his fingers made air-quotes in front of his face. “Not cool? What the hell was I supposed to do? When Leo recognized me from that forgery thing last summer, he threatened to take me in. I had to do it so I could stay on the island and help you!”

Ruby tossed her fake blond hair over her shoulder and huffed. “Well, you didn’t have to kill Madison. I mean, I didn’t like her, but still, it was overkill.”

A sharp laugh rose from Lenny’s throat that rolled and rolled in a way that terrified Ruby. It wasn’t a laugh of a person who thought this was humourous—it was the laugh of a man who was enjoying himself immensely.

“Overkill! That’s a good one, Della!”

“Ruby!” She stamped her foot and gasped. “You know what my name is now, you jackass. Now, stop killing people for real or I’ll…”

“Or you’ll what?” The laughter stopped, and the grin fell from Lenny’s face in an instant. “Or…you’ll…what, Ruby? Call the police? On your favorite cousin? Plus, you're what you call my accomplice now. Hell, with all the Madame X stuff linked directly to your side of the family, I can even say you’re the one who did all this.”

Ruby stiffened as Lenny approached, trying not to show any fear. He sniffed the air like a dog, and she cringed, knowing he was mongrel enough that he could probably smell it on her.

“So, you continue to play your game, Ruby-Della-X. And let me play mine.”

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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sweetingly · 5 years

Text

My Darlin’

A Billy Hargrove Imagine (a short series)

———

Third Person POV:

“Come on Y/N, we have to go! Every single senior is going and we can’t seem like total losers.” Steve, her best friend, whined while tugging on her arm.

Y/N laughed at her friend’s childish behavior, slamming her locker shut. “I wish I could go Steve, but I already told you my family and I have plans for the tonight.”

His brown eyes stare at her pleadingly, and she lets out a low groan. Every time he gave her the same look he was giving now, she couldn’t turn him down. “Alright, alright! You better give me the best damn lie to tell my family though.”

“Oh trust me, I won’t let you down, buddy.” He teases before leaving her alone at locker and heading towards his class.

Taking that as her cue to get to her fifth period, she begins walking the opposite direction. Checking if she had everything she needed for Calculus, her eyes were searching over the book and supplies in her arms. Without a warning, her body collides into another person, their arms wrapping around her waist to keep her from falling.

“Woah there, darlin’.” A deep, husky voice catches Y/N’s attention and she’s met with a new face. A new hot face.

His low chuckle brings her back to reality, and she clings onto her belongings tighter. “For future preferences, you should probably keep your eyes up.” The newbie tells her before letting her go and walking in the other direction.

Y/N can’t help, but watch as he stops to speak to a group of other students. All of them laughing at something real quick then he continued walking down the hallway. Her daydreaming was interrupted once the late bell rang loudly, causing her to race to her class on the second floor.

———

The bell rang signaling the students that the school day was finally over and their Friday festivities could begin. Stuffing her belongings in her backpack, Y/N stalks out of the classroom following the rest of her classmates. She had got everything she needed out of her locker so all she needed to do was meet Steve at his car.

“Hop in dipshit!” Steve pulls up in front Y/N before she could go look for his car in the lot. She rolls her eyes at the new nickname, climbing in the vehicle and throwing her bag into the backseat. “I was thinking we could hang at the mall until the party starts.”

Y/N nods, “Sounds fun, just take me home first. I hope you came up with the best lie ever that you’ll be telling my parents.”

“Oh trust me, it’ll probably be the best one I’ve made up.” Steve smiles happily, and with that they begin to make their way to Y/N’s house.

The radio in Steve’s car plays music on a low volume so the two could hear one another if they were to speak. However, while Y/N sat in the front seat her mind still wondered about the newbie who she had ran into earlier.

“Hey, did you know we had a new kid?” She questions breaking the silence. “I bumped into him before fifth.”

Steve shakes his head while keeping his eyes on the road. “No. You know how it is at our school when we get new people, no one really cares. If they do then that means they must be someone like you.”

“Like me? What’s that suppose to mean?” She lightly chuckles, feeling confused.

“Oh come on, don’t play dumb. As soon as people heard that the mayors daughter would be moving here- literally the whole town wanted to get to know you. Open your eyes, Y/N, we all see you as the most perfect person ever.” He explains and Y/N thought about it for a second, realizing he was actually correct.

Even though the newbie was unexplainably hot, Y/N noticed how no one- not even the troublesomes spoke about him in her classes.

With no more words exchanged on the topic, Steve parked the car once they arrived at her house. They both climb out of the car and Steve locks it behind them as they begin to walk towards the huge house.

“I’m home, Daddy!” Y/N happily announces when they get inside. Before her and Steve got a chance to go speak to her parents, two little children came running towards them.

“Stevie!!” The kids singsonged as they wrapped their arms below his waist. “Are you joining us for family night?” Tony questioned.

Steve sends them a sad frown, “I won’t be tonight, I actually wanted to know if I could steal your sister for the night. What do you guys think?”

Kate happily claps her hands once she lets go of Steve, clinging on to the hem of Y/N’s shirt. “Are you finally going on a date? This is great!”

Steve and Y/N look at each other before laughing, Y/N bending down to her sister‘s level. “Oh no, we’ll just be hanging out with each other as friends- nothing more.”

As Y/N explained that to Kate, Steve wanted to jump and finally admit that he didn’t Y/N see as a friend anymore. He’s liked her every since he first laid eyes on her, but she’d never see him in that type of way. So he kept his mouth shut, her Dad and Stepmom making their way to the front entrance.

“Oh what a surprise!” Winnie’s smiles when she sees the two teens at the door with the youngins. “Steve, will you be joining us tonight?” Larry questions, his hand sinking down into his pockets.

Steve shakes his head, “Not tonight, sir. I was wondering if I could steal Y/N for night? We’ll just be going to the mall and then back to my house, since a few us are getting together for study session.”

Her eyes widen when she hears study session. This really was NOT his best one yet, she thought. But of course, with her parent being airheads half of the time, they believed him and his charming personality.

“I don’t see why we’d say no to that.” Winnie proudly stated, “Y/N, why don’t you go freshen up before you guys head out.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, telling Steve she’d meet him at the car before she ran upstairs to change. Throwing her bag on her bed, she races over to her closet choosing a outfit for a party, but also making sure it was something she’d “study” in. Once she found a simple white tee and a denim skirt she threw it on along with her slightly dirty white converse. Grabbing her purse and shoving her wallet and other personal items into it, she ran back downstairs.

“Love you guys, have a goodnight!” She shouts, and runs out the door before more words could be shared.

Getting into the car, Steve noticed that Y/N was actually dressed in something different aside from her normal jeans and graphic tees. Not that he had a problem with her normal style- it was just nice seeing the girly side of his best friend every now and then.

“You going to drive or just stare at me the whole time, creep?” She teases, breaking him away from his daze.

He shrugs it off by playful rolling his eyes, “Let the fun begin.”

———

Some teens would be super excited to go to parties considering it involved drinking, drugs, sex, and dancing. However, Y/N wasn’t enjoying it one bit. The girl had been left alone about twenty minutes ago when Steve had been invited to play a game in another part of the house. Y/N being her usual self, she decided to stay on the couch alone while drunken laughter and horrible singing surrounded her.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N?” Someone questioned from beside her, and she made eye contact with someone, whom she didn’t exactly recognize.

Her brow raises as she turns to the unfamiliar face. “I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong one, dude.”

The person chuckles, “How could you forget your ole’ buddy from the eighth grade?”

“Oh my god! Logan, what are you doing here?” She happily gives him a friendly hug, pulling away after a second.

“I’m just visiting a friend for the weekend. He told me about this party and I didn’t wanna come at first, but I’m glad I did now.” He winks, causing her to blush a little.

“You must be exhausted from your drive from Chicago. How long did it take you?” Y/N asks, sipping on her drink from the red plastic cup.

Logan shakes his head, “Not long, besides I’d rather drive hours than stay in that hellhole back in Chicago.” He tells her and she sends him a slightly sympathetic expression.

“Damn, I’m sorry to hear you still have to deal with your shitty parents. Just know that you have this school year to get through and then you can finally move out.” She assures him and he agrees.

“Yeah, I can’t wait- hoping to move someplace on the west coast. I need something new.” He explains. “Enough about my sob story though, how does it feel to be known as the Mayor’s daughter? I heard you became popular quick once you moved down here.”

Y/N lets out a light laugh, “I guess you could say that, but it honestly feels pretty normal to me. I really just want everyone to treat me like they treat others so that’s what they do. I do appreciate being here more than Chicago- I feel more welcomed by my Dad and his family.”

Logan knew what she meant by the last part and he felt sympathy for her too. Scooting closer to her he places a hand on her thigh which Y/N doesn’t take too well, causing her to pull away instantly. She sends him an awkward smile before losing eye contact with him.

“Who’s your friend that you’re visiting? I might know them since it’s such a small town.” She changes the subject.

“His name’s Tommy- I’ve heard he’s known as the biggest dick in this town.” He says.

“Oh I’ve heard that too...I’ve never really spoken to him, but I hear lots of rumors and they’re not good ones.” She admits, instantly knowing who his friend was.

Once that was said, silence floats between the both of them. Without saying anything else, Logan felt the need to place his hand on her thigh again. Y/N’s breath hitching, and it wasn’t because she liked it- she actually felt uncomfortable.

“Logan...” Her sentence stops once she turns to him only to realize how close his face was to hers. “Could you-“

“Relax, Y/N.” He whispers and that’s when she smells the beer in his breath.

He was drunk this whole time and she hadn’t even noticed.

Before she got a chance to speak, his lips press to hers. The kiss he wanted to last forever only lasted for less than second, especially since she pushed him away. Her fist instantly colliding with his left eye as soon as she got the chance.

“What the absolute fuck?! You’re such a dickhead!” She shouts, getting up and running upstairs, making sure he didn’t follow.

Running to the first bedroom, she swings the door open making sure to close it and lock it behind her. She had no clue where Steve was, but she was staying in here until it was time to go.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” A voice says from behind her, almost giving her a heart attack. Spinning around she’s met with the newbie from school, a lit cancerous stick was placed in between his lips.

“Damn,” He chuckled as he took the cig out. “Cat got your tongue again?”

Y/N breaks away from her thoughts, completely forgetting they were the only two in the room and he was obviously talking to her.

“I’m sorry,” She manages to speak up, heavy breaths still escaping from her as she tried to recover from the sprinting she had just did. “Umm, I was just playing around with a friend- a little game of hide and seek.”

“Well it doesn’t seem like a game, considering that your arm is bleeding.” He points the cig to her right arm.

“Huh?” Her eyes then glance down to where he was looking and she finally saw it. Logan must’ve scratched her in the process, but she was too busy worrying about getting him off her to where she didn’t even notice it until now. “It’s fine...I’m fine.”

Newbie chuckles once more, “No you’re not, let me clean it up for you, darlin’.” Without giving her chance to respond, he grabs a hold of her hand, taking her into the bedroom’s bathroom.

Y/N hops on the counter as he opens the top drawer for the first aid kit. She can’t help but feel somewhat shy as she sat there.

“You really don’t talk much, do you?” He breaks the silence, getting out the alcohol and the wrapping bandage.

She shrugs, not really knowing what to say. “I do talk, I just don’t know you...that’s all.”

Not giving a warning he rubs alcohol on the the three scratches and she jumps, hissing at the same time.

“My bad, I meant to give you a heads up.” He apologizes, fanning the area so it’d dry quicker. “Billy.” He simply says after a few minutes, causing her to raise her eyebrow in confusion. “My name’s Billy. See, now you know me so you can talk more.”

Y/N chuckles, “You’re still a complete stranger to me. For all I know, you could be the town’s serial killer.”

“Well I’m not,” He states as he finishes up wrapping up the cuts. “Plus a serial killer wouldn’t help their victims clean up their wounds. If I were then you’d be dead be now.”

“Mm, I guess you’ve got a point.” Y/N begins, swinging her legs back and forth. “Y/N, my name’s Y/N by the way.”

Billy eyes her for a second as he still stood in between her legs, his arms then set themselves on both sides of her. The smell of smoke and cologne filled Y/N’s nostrils, but for some reason she didn’t mind it.

“I remember bumping into you during school, but I didn’t know you were the famous Y/N.” He says after a few seconds of silence, his body still close to hers. “You’re nothing like who I imagined.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrow, as she crosses her arms over her chest. “What did you imagine me as?”

He shrugs, fixing the position his legs were in. “Bitchy.” He simple says, a small smirk making its way onto his lips.

“Wow I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” She tells him, a teasingly.

Billy lowly laughs, backing off of her. He then digs into his back pocket pulling out another cig and lighting it.

“You know smoking’s bad for you.” Y/N sasses as she watches him blow out a puff of smoke. “Oh yeah? Who would’ve thought that.” He sarcastically answered, walking out of the bathroom.

Following behind him, she watches as he grabs his jacket and car keys off the bed.

“Are you leaving?” She questions, pausing him in his tracks. “Or going back down to the party?”

“There’s no way I’m going back down to that lame ass party.” He tells her, putting the cig into his mouth.

“Take me with you.” She blurts without thinking, Billy raising an eyebrow in her direction. “Please?”

“You thought I was a serial killer earlier and now you want to join me on ditching some party?“ He asks and she happily nods.

“I’d rather not be here anyway and I can’t find my friend- I just wanna get out of here too, especially after what happened.” She explains, referring to the small incident that happened with Logan earlier.

Billy scans over her face, and he notices that she seemed somewhat afraid. He figured that whatever traumatic event occurred then it be on her mind for awhile. Having some sympathy for her, he sighs, letting out a puff of smoke once again.

“Alright.” Billy simple says, “You can join me.”

“Oh thank god.” She smiles, following him out of the room. “Where are we going?”

Billy stares down at her, “Just trust me- it’ll be someplace better than here, darlin’.”

———

My apologies this is just my first imagine so it’s not the best, but I promise the next part will be better! Anyway, I’m a new blog and I’ll be writing imagines for Dacre Montgomery/Billy Hargrove, Joe Keery/Steve Harrington, Tom Holland/Peter Parker, any of the Why Dont We boy, and Dylan O’Brien. So if you have any requests then send them to me and I’ll try my best to get to them soon. Much love!! <3 <3

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dragon-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Once Upon A Time... Not, Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

Chapter Summary: Virgil is very surprised at how strangers are coming to his rescue from the school bully, Jake Simons. He makes some new friends like that, as well as getting very confused.

Trigger Warnings: Bullying, verbal fighting, pushing, threats, confusion, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3492

AO3

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter - Chapter 5

Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

That sounds like… Anastacia comes into my vision, stands in front of me, guarding me. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about who you think you are! Nobody, and I repeat, NOBODY! Does that to my brother!” Anyone who doesn’t know her, everybody here except me, wouldn’t know that inside her mind, she’s screaming at herself to grab me and run. The little waver in her voice gave it away. But I’m so lucky to have her. She sets her own anxiety to the side to help me.

“What?” Jake drawls out that word. “We were just having a bit of fun. Ain’t that right, freak?” He looks pointedly at me. And earns a shove from Ann.

“Don’t you dare call my brother a freak,” she says, voice dangerously low. Oh-uh. I haven’t heard her use that voice since she beat the crap out of the only bully at our last school. He was degrading me for being trans, so he kinda had it coming. But still, Anastacia can be pretty scary when she’s in protective mode.

“Oh, I’m sooo scared. What’re you gonna do, British? Throw a teabag after me?” he mocks. Big mistake on his part, if you ask me.

“Did you just-” Oh, Ann is seething now. I can tell. To hell with anxiety, when you’ve pissed her off, you’re dead.

I look around the yard and, oh no! There are so many people! I need to get away from here! I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I can feel it! Why couldn’t I just stay at home and never see the sun again? Ann’s talking, I think. Maybe even fighting that Jake guy. At least verbally. I can’t hear them. I can’t hear anything! Wait, I can hear my heart. That’s good. Right? Oh god, I’m going to have a panic attack on the first day back to school in front of a bunch of strangers! I can’t- I can’t-

“What’s going on here, Jake?”

Who was that? Their voice sounds really calculated. But also kinda cold. Their voice broke through my panicked thoughts, though. Like Mother’s. Her voice was able to break through my thoughts. I’ve only heard their voice, but I think it’s someone I can trust. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s all a haze right now. I should probably open my eyes. Yeah, I’m gonna do that. Wait, I closed my eyes? When did that happen?

Anastacia is standing protectively in front of me, like a knight protecting their most dearest with a shield from a firebreathing dragon. No! Not thinking about that! In front of her, two other students are standing face to face with Jake. They’re talking with him. What are they saying? I try and focus on them.

“… ould leave.” The voice from earlier.

“Yeah, right. Like I’m going to. Yo, Marco! Dillan!” That’s Jake. At his shout, two other students run over to his side. “The nerds wanna fight,” Jake laughs.

“We’d rather it didn’t come to that. However, I will indulge you if you want.” This is a new voice. They sound quite dramatic. It’s one of the two who came over. They are defending me? Why? They don’t know me. I don’t know them.

I can see their back. One of the two is wearing what looks like a dark blue polo. The other is wearing a dark red jacket with a crown on. Nothing too boisterous, but still. Bold.

“Can’t you count, Garcia? It’s three against two. British is obviously too busy with her weak-ass brother,” Jake smirks.

“Numbers don’t matter in situations such as this, may I remind you. Anyone with even just a slight comprehension of hand-to-hand combat will tell you that.” The first voice.

“Indeed, Simons, we don’t need to be any more to take you fiends down.” Red Jacket does what I assume is supposed to be a dramatic pose. Pretty sure the second voice belongs to them.

“Pfft, you really think your geek can handle being in a fight, Garcia? He would lose instantly.” Jake and his goons laugh. “He’s too scrawny! If I even just gently punch him, he’d break!” Jakes goons laughed even harder at that. Well, that really wasn’t fair! I really wanna help them, but I can’t do a fucking thing right now! It’s like I’m paralysed!

“You would actually be surprised at what Logan can do, Jake.” A new voice, sounding a bit more female. Well, it looks like they are here to help Polo Shirt and Red Jacket. “And how many punches he can take without breaking a sweat or slowing down in the slightest.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Quick E coming the weaklings to the resue?” Jake taunts. I think it’s supposed to be a play at their name or something.

“Har har, real mature, Jackie.” Jake sneers at the name. The newcomer (gosh, there’s so many strangers now, I can’t breathe) only smile at Jake innocently. “You know it’s Qikkie. Q-I-K-K-I-E,” they spell out. “Qikkie. Might look weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kikki’.” Oh, their smile is dangerous now. They kinda remind me of Ann…

“Virgil, breathe.” Who said that?! I frantically look around. Who the hell sa- oh. Anastacia. She’s right next to me now. She’s telling me to breathe. Am I not breathing? I inhale sharply. Oh, guess I wasn’t.

She continues whispering soft nothings into my ear. I tune them out in favour of focusing on the conversation in front of us. Red Jacket is standing slightly in front of Polo Shirt, ready to defend. I must’ve missed something.

“Oh, go put a sock in it, Jake,” Red Jacket says. Jake just laughs. As do his goons.

“Hey! Attention here, hothead!” the newcomer, Qikkie, says, snapping their fingers. Nice bracelet. Why does it say ‘She/Her’ on it? “Do you really wanna turn your back on me? After what happened last year?” Jake visibly freezes. Qikkie just smiles wickedly. Wonder what happened?

“Fine. You losers win this round,” Jake grumbles, signalling to his goons to follow him as he leaves.

“You just conceded victory to us, so we are in fact the winners. Not losers,” Polo Shirt says, sounding puzzled.

Qikkie turns to Ann and me. “Sorry about him. Jake wasn’t taught any manners at all at home. He’s just a Neanderthal. Just ignore him and his brainless gorillas,” Qikkie smiles at us and offers a hand. The other two are still there, but it seems like they’re sending ordering looks to the other students because they start to leave fast.

Ann takes their offered hand after I nod an okay at her. She then gently lifts me up with both hands. Damn it! I’m wobbling a bit. My legs aren’t steady. Haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday and that push just took more of my remaining energy. I really need to eat better.

I quickly gain my balance and start signing. ‘Thanks, sis. Uhm, could you translate this next part?’ I hesitantly ask.

“Of course! Go ahead,” she says, earning a few confused looks from the others with us. Polo Shirt and Red Jacket came to stand next to Qikkie.

‘You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.’ I sign, allowing a tiny smirk to be visible on my face. Ann starts giggling a lot and has to catch her breath. Polo Shirt starts chuckling a bit as well, making Qikkie and Red Jacket look at them like they’d lost their mind. Maybe they didn’t laugh much?

Ann seems to have caught her breath again. “Huh, sorry. Right, translation. Virgil said, and I quote: You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.�� And the others start laughing. Well, Polo Shirt is still chuckling a bit.

Qikkie’s laugh is light and not really that loud. Red Jacket’s laughter, however… it’s loud and boisterous and like music. Wait, what? Nonono, get it together Virgil! If you start these thoughts you’re only gonna start blushing and- and I’m blushing. Great. I look down a bit, trying to hide behind my bangs. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t notice!

They finally start to laugh off. And Red Jacket looks at me. Oh, no! Shit! They’re smiling! At me! What do I do?! Can’t I just sink into the ground or something?!

“I like the way you think, Virgil, was it?” they ask. All I can do is stand there and look really dumb. I just nod. I’m pretty sure no one seems aware of my internal conflict. “I’m Roman. Roman Garcia. He/him.” Red Jacket, Roman, says, extending his hand but backtracks and scratches his neck instead. At least he could see I’d rather not touch any stranger at the moment.

Polo Shirt collects himself and gives a tiny attention-grabbing cough. “My name is Logan Connors. I, as well as Roman, use he/him pronouns. And we’re glad to be of assistance to the both of you,” he says and gives a curt nod. Yup. He’s the formal type. He even wears a necktie. Who even does that in a school that has no uniforms?

“You probably already caught my name,” Qikkie chuckles. “But if you forgot it already, it’s Qikkie. Picani. My name’s spelt really weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kiki’,” they smile. They get a look from Logan that I have no idea what means. “Oh, yeah! And I use she/her pronouns for today. I’m a demigirl, or as I like to call it: demifemale, so you can see my pronouns on my bracelet here.” She lifts her hand with the bracelet I saw earlier. So that’s why it says she/her. Cool. “When I’m wearing the ‘they/them’ pendants, you can just call me Q. You don’t have to, obviously, but it would be nice.”

“That’s really cool! I’m Anastacia, uhh, Blake,” Ann hesitantly adds. Most likely because they also shared their last names. Qikkie seems to light up at Ann’s comment about Qikkie’s bracelet. “I use she/her as well. And this is Virgil,” she gestures to me. “My brother. He/him.” I give a small wave at the introduction. And then the awkwardness starts. No one seems to know what to say now. I just try and hide behind my hair and hope Roman doesn’t look at me. I really don’t know why my body reacted like that! What’s wrong with me?

Luckily the first warning bell rings, signalling for us to get ready to go to our next class, breaking the awkward silence.

“Now that introductions are out of the way, it would be best for us to head to our next classes. We can show you to your classrooms?” Logan offers, albeit a bit awkward. He must not be all that social. Welcome to the club. I nod silently.

“We’d like that,” Ann says after she sees my nod. She checks her schedule. “Uhm, I have Maths,” she says.

“Ooh! We do too! Roman and I!” Qikkie says, clapping her hands excitedly. “We can take you there and at the same time, make sure Jake doesn’t try and bother you!” Ann nods, but glances to me. “What do you have, Virgil?” Qikkie asks me. Guess she noticed the worry in Ann’s eyes.

I look at my schedule. And smile. I have Art! One of the few things I don’t suck at and have a hard time screwing up. ‘Art’ I sign at Ann.

“Art? Cool!” Ann says, genuinely excited for me. It feels nice.

“Well, seems like you’ll be keeping me company, as I also have Art,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses unnecessarily. Must be a tick or something. He seems alright. I hope I’m not wrong like last time… “It is this way, Virgil.” I look around. Ann already left with Roman and Qikkie. I must’ve been zoning out. Wait, he’s walking away. Logan’s walking away. What do I do? Oh, right. He said he has Art too. I’m just gonna follow him.

I catch up to him pretty fast, though I do have a small limp from being pushed down on the ground. I really hope he doesn’t notice. We walk in silence. Obviously. Logan seems like someone who’s not up for unnecessary conversation, and I don’t really speak.

“So, Virgil. Might I inquire how long you’ve been unable to speak?” Logan suddenly breaks the silence. Great. “Do not worry about answering in sign-language, as I know some myself. Granted, I do not communicate in it every day. You do not have to answer if it’s too uncomfortable for you,” he adds after he, presumably, glances towards me and sees how I’m curling in on myself. It’s nice to know he actually cares about me. The least I could do after he and Roman basically saved me is answer him.

‘Well… I’m not unable to speak, per se. My throat just closes up a lot. It’s been doing that for as long as I can remember, really. So, I really just use sign to speak with others. Others being my sister and father.’ I hope that wasn’t too much for him to read. He did say he’s not the best.

“Ah. Selective mutism. I’m guessing you have heightened anxiety?” Logan asks. Wait, it’s actually called something? I thought I was just a weirdo. Huh. I do nod at his question about my anxiety. “Well, if you are called upon by the teacher, I shall translate as best I can for you if that is alright?” Again I nod.

He keeps his focus on me as we walk so I might as well ask. ‘Is there a specific reason why you know sign language?’ Pleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleas-

“Well, a good friend of mine, his mother is deaf. I spent a lot of time at their house growing up, so I picked up a few things, well, a lot. And I’ve always been fascinated by it,” Logan explains. Well. At least he doesn’t find me annoying. Yet. I think.

We walk for another minute in silence, my mind is seriously being an asshole right now. How far away is the Art classroom anyway?! Hey, it’s my first day, alright? Don’t expect me to remember where everything is to a tee from just one tour of the school! “Logan! There you are!” someone whisper-shouts. Someone’s waving at us, standing outside a classroom.

“Ah, that is my sister, Laylin. Relax, Laylin. It’s still another five minutes before class starts,” Logan addresses the girl in front of us. She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re usually here ten minutes before. Did Patton make you look at pictures of puppies again?” she remarks sarcastically. I’m just gonna assume that it’s something that’s only happened once and Laylin just keeps bringing it up to annoy Logan. That’s what I would do if Logan was my brother.

“That was one time!” Logan near hisses. “And no. Jake had sought out a new victim, so we stopped by to help. This is Virgil, by the way,” he says, nodding to me. I give a small wave at the girl in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Laylin, Logan’s twin. Hope Jake didn’t give you a bad impression of the school. It’s the fewest that’s actually like him.” They’re twins. Why am I surprised? It’s the only explanation as to how they’re on the same year as siblings. Right?

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. Someone’s always by my side, so Jake stays away. We got some homework, but at least it’s something we covered last year in school, so I already did it and won’t have to agonise over it.

When we arrive at school the next day, Nini is standing just outside the doors, waving at us when she spots us. “So. Heard yesterday was quite eventful, huh? Next time Jake decides to annoy you, just drop my name, and he’ll back off,” she says as we reach her.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Ann giggles. We head inside, and Nini guides us in the direction of our next class. We still have another fifteen minutes, but we’d like to be in good time, seeing as we missed the first lesson yesterday because we are new and needed a tour and everything.

The classroom’s up ahead, someone’s already standing outside the door, not blocking it though. Wait, is that Roman? Huh. His wardrobe is completely different from yesterday. Ann noticed him too. “Hey, Roman,” she says when we get close enough. He looks up, and did he dye his hair since yesterday? Because I don’t recall that grey streak in his hair. Then again, I only met the guy yesterday.

Roman starts laughing. Well, more like cackling, really. That… is not the reaction I expected at all. And from the way Ann mirrors my surprise and confusion, neither did she. I look around us, searching with my eyes as to what could be so funny. A guy (I assume, but still gonna refer with gender-neutral pronouns until I know for sure) is standing close by and looks like a confused bean. Like, literally. Looks like the definition of an innocent bean. Blue shirt, glasses, a cardigan tied around the shoulders, and a long skirt on.

“Remus? What’s going on?” they ask as they move closer.

REMUS?! The hell?! I glance at Anastacia. She looks as shocked as I am; mouth ajar and everything. Does this mean that yesterday was some sort of planned out practical joke? That they gave us fake names just to ridicule us today in school?

I can see their mouth moving, feel Ann’s hand on my arm, but I can’t hear. Shit! Not having a panic attack now! Not gonna happen! Pull yourself together, Virgil! Don’t need to make a bigger fool out of yourself than you already have. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, and out for eight. Repeat.

“…iddo?” Great, I can hear again. My eyes focus again. The others are staring at me. Did I miss something? I tilt my head a bit to the side, Ann knows it means I’m listening but think I might’ve missed something in the conversation. Which I clearly did just now.

“Hey, there, kiddo. Glad you’re joining us again,” the person in the skirt says. “My name is Patton, he/him,” he smiles. He seems really bubbly, it’s actually a calming atmosphere to be in. I smile faintly at him to make sure he knows I heard him. I can hear footsteps in the distance.

He opens his mouth to say some more, but someone interrupts. Someone who wasn’t there before. And looks like Patton. Like, apart from the heterochromia and some lighter patches of skin on the left side of their face, they are identical. And now my confused state has increased. “Could you keep it down, Remus? I could hear you all the way at the end of the hallway,” they drawl, pointing over their shoulder, down the long hallway.

“Oh, heya, Janus!” Patton waves energetically. “I made some new friends! I think.” He looks at me, smiling. He then looks back at the newcomer, Janus, and starts explaining what just happened to make ‘Remus’ laugh like that.

She smiles (Patton mentioned her pronouns somewhere in his explanation. It went too fast for me to get the context for why he mentioned her pronouns, okay?) and chuckles a bit. “I can understand why you look so utterly confused. You two ran into Roman yesterday, right?” she asks. Her voice is smooth and a bit deep. I can see Ann nod in my periphery. “It is most likely that he didn’t mention Remus at all. You just met, after all. But, they are not the same person. They are twins. Identical twins. Patton and I are twins as well if you were wondering, which I can only assume you were. We are not identical twins, but we look very similar still,” she explains, and now I feel like a total fool. And idiot. Of course, they are twins. That’s what makes the most sense. I’m getting a headache. “Oh, and I am genderfluid, so keep watch of my necklace,” she winks.

I look towards Anastacia, my anxiety forgotten. ‘I am getting a headache. There are three pairs of twins, not including us, here. This is gonna get confusing fast,’ I sign to her, to which she nods.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees, taking my hand. “But we’re here together, so we get to share our confusion,” she winks.

“Oh, this is only half of us, darling,” Janus smirks. “But we should get to class, it’s about to start. Have fun.” She starts walking back down the hall. “By the way.” She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Welcome to the Twin Squad.”

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drunknihilist · 3 years

Text

How’s My Life? I don’t know I Never Really Had One.

I was born in 1990, from 93 to 98 I was raised middle class in the country. Anything I wanted my dad bought it for me because he worked at Goodyear. My mother turned my word upside down from 98 to 2002 when she told me he wasn’t my real father and she was divorcing him. She wound up cheating on him and moving me in with an alcoholic former marine that locked me in a walk in closet for 4 years and for 3 of them when he wasn’t beating me I was his boyfriend and he never worked.

If I chewed my fingernails he beat me. If I didn't turn the light switch off before I left a room he beat me. If he caught me trying to sneak food out of the fridge he beat me. He shattered a flashlight over my head for bringing home a bad report card in front of my mother. He gave me a handjob with my pants on while my mom was sitting in front of me a few times and even though she looked me in my eyes she didn't say a word just kept watching television. He made me read porn magazines and watch pornographic films with him since I was 9 years old. He would make me hold his cock when he went to the bathroom to take a piss. I would wake up to him in the middle of the night having sex with me so I start sticking objects inside of myself thinking that if I stretched out the area that maybe I would be able to handle it more easier. There were even times where I would feel unusually tired between 5-7 in the evening which was around the same time he was taking me on these gun shooting trips with a man named George Reynolds and I have my suspicions that he was giving me drugs and letting him have sex with me when I was passed out. He stuck loaded guns to my head threatening to kill me if I told any of my teachers about it. So I was kept in solitary confinement and fed one or two meals a day to keep me alive so they could get my SSI check in the mail to buy beer with it.

I spent my 8th grade year living at my grandmothers house away from all the abuse and I actually made the honor roll. So my mom leaves him and meets my little brothers dad and talks me into moving in with her again and I spend 03 to 06 repeatedly getting grounded while his family bullied and beat me so they could get my SSI check in the mail and buy more beer with it. To make matters worse when we had to move out of a place in west logan his daughters left my belongings on the property after they moved their stuff out and the property owner threw all of my stuff in the garbage. The only thing I had to my name was the clothes on my back and I didn't even know that it happened until my mother called me and told me about it.

Then I told my grandmother I had enough and I want to move in with her she welcomed me with open arms. I actually went to the dentist for once because my mother never took me in the past ten years and I figured out I had 11 cavities in my mouth. I didn’t know how to interact socially around people so the friends that I did manage to make became a second family to me. So from 06 to 08 I was more focused having a social life and having two short term relationships than I was on my school work so I barely even graduated high school.

A woman that I wanted to marry that I spent 9 months with off and on and I lost my virginity to told me to meet her across town so that she could go back to my grandmothers house to meet my uncle in the basement for a quickie out of revenge for me breaking up with her multiple times and only got caught because my step sister walked in on the two of them so I spent the end of 08 to 2010 getting a lot of casual encounters out of my system trying to forget about her but nothing made me feel better.

From 2010 to 2012 I tried to get a job but I have had such an emotionless thousand yard stare that it was like trying to give a job interview to a robot. So when nobody would hire me a friend of mine named David was paying me a little bit of money working and training me as an contractor plus I also got a second job because a man name Charles who was running a business in the back of his place said that he needed a second locksmith. My grandmother kept getting sick so I began to spend more time taking care of her than I was showing up where I needed to be. David replaced me with another coworker and they ended up opening their own business and Charles ended up relocating out of state.

Here I am 22 years old I’m broke and I have to be a caregiver to my grandmother. Boy I could really use a friend, but as months went by nobody called me, texted me, came by the house. It got to where I was so depressed I checked myself into a mental health facility for a week to try to cope with my situation. Then when I got home I decided I love my grandmother dearly but I need to leave this town. I ended up leaving early in the morning to catch a bus and my grandmother talked to me on the phone thinking that I was a son of a bitch and she doesn't have anyone that's going to take care of her. So I had family who lived in a different state that took me in and I got a job working as a telemarketer. My uncle back home ends his own life and none of my family is helping my grandmother with emotional support so I have to move back for over half a year. I go back out of state again and another uncle gets me a job working as a maintenance man. However he cannot stop his addiction to pain pills so whenever he got done blowing his paycheck he was always wanting me to give him most of mine. Then one day I put my foot down and said I’m not doing this for you anymore and he told lies to my boss and got me fired.

I got a job working as a caregiver under the table for a lady who lived across the street from me because all of her family was thousands of miles away. So 400 dollars a month was a lot better to me than nothing. And at this point I was taking turns being a caregiver for my neighbor, grandmother and the aunt I was living with. My aunt has MS and I had two cousins that were in their mid to late 30's that never lifted a finger to do dishes or clean house I was stuck doing all the house work for free and whenever I am not in Logan and I'm back home I'm still expected to do it.

I have to regularly travel back and forth to my grandmothers house because whenever I call her she says she doesn’t eat for days sometimes because even though my mom lives in the house directly behind her she cannot come over and cook 2-3 times a day. It’s not like my mother works because now that she is single she keeps my little brother in the house just like she did to me most of my life while she plays games and spends his SSI money. I can barely afford to put shoes on my feet and my grandmothers pet cat sat on top of a new laptop and soaked it in piss and she said that it was my fault because I didn't lock the door when I went to sleep. So I went back home and didn't wanna talk to her for a few weeks out of anger.

My real father comes back into my life in 2017 and a year later he actually gets me a job working with him for the mayor of a small town near Columbus renovating rental properties. I find out mom cheated on him with the man that worked at Goodyear. The mayor pays me 200 dollars for a week of work and I thought if this is the rate I’m starting out I’m just gonna move up here. So I worked with him for over a month but I was still calling my grandmother twice a week just to see how she is doing. I try to call one day I never got an answer so then I tried again the next day and a nurse answers the phone and tells me she almost died.

I told my father I need to go back and be with her so when I got back my mother said she was gonna pay me 50 bucks to help my grandmother get situated inside of a nursing home facility. I said ok when I get done with this dad can just pick me up and take me back when all of this is finished. Not only was I lied to but my grandmother fell and fractured one of her bones and had to lay starving in her own piss and shit for 3 days before any of my family bothered to come over and check on her. She only spent one day in the nursing home before she started crying and screaming she wanted to go home. I wound up having to spend 2 months living at her house again changing her depends cooking all her meals the whole nine yards. Funny thing was when me my aunt and my mom went to pick her back up from the nursing home they had a good laugh after making the comment that they should have just let the crabby old bitch walk back home with her depends around her ankles holding onto a walker.

Here I am 30 years old all of my teeth are rotten and I don’t have any money for a dentist. I have never been able to stay on one job long enough to even know the first thing about paying income taxes because my aunt and my grandmother take turns crying over the phone that nobody is taking care of them. I would rather sleep under a bridge than go on welfare. I have never owned a car or got a stimulus check. I have never had my own place and I have never owned a smartphone. And all my family can do is sit around and laugh at me when I'm not around and call me a loser, meanwhile their kids are going to college and are living out on their own, but if it was any of them dealing with this they would have put my grandmother away a long time ago. It’s like as long as she is my problem they don’t have to deal with her but the minute they hear she’s too sick to eat or doesn’t feel well they would be the same people to jump on the phone yelling, “WHY HAVENT YOU MADE HER NOTHING TO EAT!” I am not a danger to myself or anyone around me.

My father has not been back to see me or even call me because every single time he shows up my family asks him if he has any money, I have no friends and I have anxiety attacks that keep me from sleeping at night because I know I’m going to die homeless under a bridge because I’m at that age that nobody is going to want to hire me anymore. I do little jobs here and there so I can buy some vodka and cranberry juice so it’s easier to go to sleep at night. For the past two weeks yet again here I am at my grandmothers house. She goes through 3 pairs of pants a day because of bladder problems I have to change her depends 7-8 times a day. I have to comb her hair take her phone calls do her cooking. Sometimes I don’t sleep for 2 days straight just so I can sleep on the third day to be up early enough to help her to the bathroom.

Again I’m 30 years old but it’s like I spent 17 years of my life in jail for a crime that I didn’t commit. And I told my grandmothers caseworker back when I was 23 years old that people I've tried to talk to over the years have told me that I can get paid for the work that I'm doing with her and all she said to me was that I would interfere with the income she was getting from the government so she can't do it. My mom doesn't own a car and she lied about being disabled so she could live off of her children’s SSI and my grandmother doesn't know how to read or write and has never owned a car but got pregnant 8 times so she could live off their SSI and my grandfather could use it to get drunk with. My family does like the remind me though that because I don't believe in God that I'm going to go to hell. Scientists have long since proven that dinosaurs existed millions of years before humans. I finally understood that the enlightenment that the Buddha was talking about was actually another word for nihilism. I suppose I understand letting go of material possessions and not causing suffering to other living creatures. Nihilism for me is like Buddhism except I am still a meat eater. I think people who are vegan do not understand that if these animals were not in such a demand that they are then they would go away just like the rest of the other species we've had a hand in wiping out as we let our population grow larger and larger.

I love my 84yo grandmother very much and she tells me she loves me and my mother has not told me she loved me in over 22 years. And I'd like to think that I'm finally going to be free to be by myself and make my own choices for once by the time that my grandmother is dead. But I know all that is going to happen is I'm going to be one of those 40yo men that stand on the street begging people for spare change. Till one day a cousin of mine is gone drive up in a new car laughing at me telling me I should have went to college. It's February 2021, I got a birthday coming up in 4 month, I have never been to jail one day in my life, I have no criminal record of any kind. I've just always been this dog that gets is chain tugged on and I bark.

The only thing that the world has taught me is people only have time for you as long as it is convenient for them and even when they appear genuine I always wonder if everything coming out of their mouth is a fucking lie. I have fantasies about picking up the pieces that Hitler left behind after he shot himself in the head only I do not believe in a master race. I feel betrayed by my own empathy for other human beings, I don't care what color they are, they are destructive selfish semi evolved primates that are too brainwashed by their own bullshit to accept the fact that money is their God. And just because there are children across America dying in the hospital from cancer that doesn't mean that when they die they got a heaven to go to.

After all those days trapped in my room when I was a child barely even weighing 90 pounds I never thought for one minute I was gonna grow up to be a loser. Lol if any of my family read this they would just say that if I was so damn miserable why didn't I just get out? Oh cool so that means you're gonna move her into your house? No??? Does that mean you're gonna help her with all of her daily activities so she doesn't cry to me on the phone every couple of days that she's not getting any help and all her home heath aides do is do dishes and sit on their ass? No??? Ok then what kind of Christmas card did you pick out for me this year? Whoever said we were getting you one, you need to get a job you damn loser. And it's actually worse now because they stopped all of her home heath aides last year because my mother gave her bed bugs and she didn't want to say anything about it.

I feel like a human trafficking victim with stockholm syndrome but when I look up what a caregiver is it actually says work without pay right in the description so it's not like I can take anyone for lost wages. I've never even got a present for my birthday party or for Christmas since I was 7 years old and the only time I do is when my grandmother gives me some money so I can put some new shoes on my feet or get a new coat to wear.

But I'm a man I'm not supposed to talk about my feelings I need to suck it up.

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