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sign-from-god-complex · 5 years

Text

Spooked

@partialentirety I can’t believe you made me write this (I’m kidding, but you suggested someone write the Logan Crofter’s thing and I thought about it and just couldn’t help myself). So this is loosely based on this post!

Summary: It's well established that Logan would do almost anything for a jar of Crofter's and Virgil and Roman are not above using that to their advantage.

Pairing: Platonic LAMP, with a focus on (platonic) analogical

Warnings: Food mention? Other than that really nothing!

Tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard

AO3 Link

It had started off subtle. At least, Logan thought it had.

To begin with, it was more of a pavlovian response than anything. First with Patton asking for his assistance with dinner and subsequently making pancakes with Crofter's for breakfast the next morning; next with Roman wanting help with organising his writing and providing Logan with Crofter's on toast afterwards; then Virgil getting him to keep Roman distracted for an hour in return for a Crofter’s and Nutella sandwich, etc. etc.

Logan sort of just... came to expect a Crofter's-type reward for helping out his roommates. And he received one, without fail, every single time.

Most commonly it was toast or sandwiches, sometimes even biscuits, but on rare occasions, Logan would be provided with Patton’s Crofter's cookies—delicious homemade shortbread with Crofter's baked into the middle. And on even rarer occasions Logan would be rewarded with a whole jar. An entire jar of Crofter's jelly for him to do whatever he pleased with (though really, both he and his roommates knew exactly what he was going to do with it—consume the entire jar the second he returned to his room).

And, okay, sure, maybe the lure of that delicious fruit spread had enticed him into doing a few things he may not have done otherwise—take care of Virgil’s pet spider for a week while he was away, agree to read Patton a bedtime story and clean Roman’s entire room, to name a few—but he had it under control! He knew what was happening and it was all under control.

So how, exactly, he'd managed to get to this point, he wasn't entirely sure.

11:37 p.m.

"I'm sorry, what are we doing?"

The living room was covered in empty cardboard boxes, wires and... Logan supposed “equipment” would be the correct term, but he used that word loosely. Virgil was currently preoccupied with laying some cables across the living room rug but at Logan’s question he glanced over and rolled his eyes.

"The apartment is haunted, genius, I told you. Me and Princey here are setting up a trap and you—" he pointed a finger at Logan—"are going to be the bait."

Logan blinked.

"The apartment is not haunted, Virgil."

"Oh yeah?” Virgil sat up, giving him a mostly harmless glare. “Then how do you explain that time when we woke up to find every cabinet in the kitchen open? Huh? And what about the time every single pair of our shoes were thrown out the window overnight?" He adjusted a wire beside him, muttering, “Thank god we only live on the second floor.”

"You know I hate to agree with our resident storm cloud, but he is right,” Roman said, pushing himself up from where he was fiddling with a grey box on the ground, “Weird things keep happening in this apartment and we’re going to find out why.”

Logan sighed. This clearly wasn’t a fight he was going to win today.

“Okay, alright. Regardless of whether or not the apartment is haunted—which, by the way, it isn’t—what makes you think I’m going to agree to be the bait?”

Virgil and Roman exchanged a look which Logan was sure did not spell out good things for him.

The two of them were notorious for mischief, actually. There had been an ongoing pranks war for months during their first year of living together before they’d eventually called a truce, and even now April Fools Day was a day to be feared.

Virgil, of course, had a running list of things it was not okay to mess with during a prank—including obvious things like physical harm and anyone’s mental wellbeing, and not so obvious things like the sugar content of meals or the destruction of any books.c

Logan had managed to avoid being involved in any of Virgil and Roman’s hairbrained schemes thus far mostly by claiming complete disinterest, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to get away with that this time.

He watched as Roman reached into his bag and drew out a single jar of jelly. Crofter’s. Logan’s Berry.

Goddammit! He had classes in the morning! He could not afford to be playing ghost hunters with his stupid roommates well into the night; he needed optimal sleep and rest.

“No. No! You cannot keep doing this! This is not going to work every ti-” Logan was waving his hands in front of his body in a negating gesture but stopped cold when Roman made direct eye contact, reached into his bag, and drew out another jar of Crofter’s.

Shit.

Logan shut his eyes with a resigned sigh. “Give me the fucking jars.”

There was a cheer from the other two as Roman handed the jelly over—complete with a spoon—and Logan dropped into the armchair, clutching the obtained Crofter’s closely to his chest.

12:05 a.m.

Just as Logan was finishing off his first jar of Crofter’s, Virgil announced that they were “all set up”. He took a seat on the couch next to Roman, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Across the living room rug, Logan could see about 15 different wires in all different colours, set up in a grid pattern. Logan assumed there was some sort of method to the colours, as it certainly wasn’t arranged for aesthetic purposes—plainly put, it looked awful.

“Right.” Logan frowned at the floor. “And what is this, exactly?”

Virgil grinned, balancing on the balls of his feet on the couch cushions and really, couldn’t anyone in this house ever sit like a normal human being?

“It’s an electromagnetic grid,” he explained, “Don’t worry, it’s totally harmless to us, but to ghosts… and, uh, rats, it’s kinda like a super uncomfortable jail.”

Logan inhaled. “I see.”

He didn’t know where Virgil got the information he was standing so firmly behind, and quite honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was probably best he was left in the dark on this one.

“Okay, Lo,” Virgil instructed, “What we need you to do is, when you see the ghost try and lure it over here so that it’s floating above the grid, and then, when it’s in position, press the big red button on the box by your feet and we should have it trapped. You got that?”

Honestly, he looked entirely too proud of himself for a plan that could have just as easily been concocted by a four-year-old with an overactive imagination (so, Roman), but he kept that to himself. After all, the whole situation was ridiculous so the complexity of the plan wasn’t really something he was all that worried about.

“Okay,” Logan responded, with what he thought was a healthy amount of scepticism, “and what exactly do you plan on doing with this “ghost” once it’s captured?”

Roman gave him a look like he was being an idiot, which Logan thought was ironic given the circumstances. “Why, we ask them to politely leave, of course!”

Right, of course.

“Anyway,” Virgil continued, voice a little sharper, “While you play bait out here, me and Ro will be hiding so the ghost doesn’t see us and get spooked. You ready to go?”

Logan sighed. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

“Great,” Virgil replied and with a grin, dashed to hide in the entrance to the kitchen.

1:22 a.m.

Logan felt as if he’d been waiting in the dark for days now at this point, though likely it had only been an hour or so. As was to be expected, no one had heard a single strange noise or seen a single strange thing in the time they’d been sitting there and Logan truly wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

He had counted and mentally catalogued every item in this room twice already and he was strongly regretting not fetching a book before they’d begun, even if all he would’ve had to read by was the light produced by the box at his feet and Roman’s flashlight resting on the windowsill behind him. His patience was seriously beginning to wear thin.

“And when, exactly, is this so-called-ghost supposed to show up?” Logan whispered in the general direction of the doorway where Virgil was “hiding”. He’d tried speaking a regular volume earlier this evening and, to the backdrop of Roman and Virgil’s insistent shushing, Logan had decided it was best to play along.

There was a slight shuffling noise from the kitchen before Virgil spoke up. “I dunno, it probably should have been here by now, right?”

There was a note of hesitancy in his voice that Logan felt was entirely justified and, in fact, probably should have appeared sooner.

You would think that Virgil would be more nervous about this whole “ghost catching” situation considering his almost crippling anxiety disorder. From many a late night conversation, Logan was aware ghosts were a thing that Virgil was interested in, however, he’d always thought it was more in the abstract—enjoying creepy places and being curious about historically significant “hauntings”—not quite so concrete as believing their actual, real-life apartment was haunted.

It seemed as if his excitement was trumping any fear and Logan was not entirely sure that that was a good thing.

“Well, maybe it doesn’t want to show up, what with specs over here searching the room like he’s looking for his lost contact lens!” Roman hissed from his spot behind the couch—and really, if their problem truly were a ghost, Logan is sure Roman’s hiding spot would not protect him from being seen—“Pretend to be asleep or something!”

Logan sighed, moving around in the chair until his head was settled against the armrest and closing his eyes. “That shouldn’t be hard, considering that is what I should be doing right now.”

And with that, the room fell back into silence, and despite Logan’s best (well, maybe second-best) attempts, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

3:13 a.m.

“Guys. Guys, wake up. I heard something.”

Logan felt a voice pulling him out of sleep and into consciousness. The surface beneath him was moderately uncomfortable—it certainly wasn’t his bed, it seemed more like a chair. In fact, when he opened his eyes he could vaguely make out the shapes of the living room furniture.

Logan blinked a few times. Why was he in the living room? And if this was the living room, then what was that all over the flo-

Oh. Right. This.

“What was that, Virgil?” Logan mumbled, stretching out in the armchair and wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

Virgil's voice was a little harsher this time, slightly more panicked yet still quiet. “I said, I heard something.”

Logan sighed. “Are you sure it isn’t simply a cat on the roof? Possibly the w-”

His rationalising was cut off by the sound of a step creaking.

Oh.

Okay, well, there was no reason to jump to conclusions. Logan was sure it was just the apartment settling, old buildings did that sometimes.

“You heard that too, right?” Virgil sounded panicked and Logan raced to assuage his fears.

“Yes, Virgil,” he whispered, “but I’m sure it’s noth-”

Another creak on the stairs. Closer this time.

Logan took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. What could he possibly have to be worried about? Ghosts weren’t real. He was simply indulging Virgil and Roman (the latter of which, actually, Logan was sure was still asleep) with their nonsensical ghost theory and nothing more.

It was only a moment before the stairs creaked again, closer than before, and Logan distantly realised he had curled up tightly in the chair—his legs pulled in tight to his body and arms wrapped around them. He forced himself to relax. There was nothing to worry about. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

With a final creak, a figure appeared in the doorway to the living room.

And as that figure stepped out of the doorway and into the light of the flashlight, all the tension Logan held left him in one big exhale.

“Patton?” Virgil said, clearly giving up on the idea of being quiet, and this time it was Logan’s turn to shush him.

“Virgil, he is clearly sleepwalking,” Logan whispered, “Please refrain from startling him; he would likely be very disoriented were he to wake up here.”

Logan watched him curiously, all his previous apprehension far gone. Patton was making his way around the couch, mumbling to himself words that Logan couldn’t quite hear. Once he reached the windows, Patton grabbed the ends of both of the curtains and began tying them together.

Logan could make out, “Gotta make sure you don’ fly away,” in amongst all the gibberish and he chuckled softly to himself. It seems they’d found the culprit after all.

Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil, who’d stepped out of his hiding place to sulk in the doorway instead. “Would you still like me to “trap” him?”

“Oh, shut up,” Virgil scowled, “I can’t believe I bought all this stupid equipment for nothing.”

He moved over to the middle of the room and began to pack up all the junk laying there, evidently deciding that it wasn’t worth it to wake up Roman.

“Yes, it would appear that is the case, wouldn’t it?” Logan said smugly, acting as if he’d never been worried even in the slightest. He wasn’t sure Virgil bought it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put Patton back to bed and maybe finally get some proper sleep myself.”

He placed a hand on Patton’s back and led him gently towards the stairs. Before they actually began to ascend the steps, however, Logan spun around to glare at Virgil.

“Oh, and the next time you two want a guinea pig for your ridiculous antics, call someone else.”

So, of course, two weeks later Roman and Virgil were back, waving two individual jars of Crofter’s in front of Logan to entice him into something ludicrous and time wasting. Logan agreed. After all, they were nothing if not predictable.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #platonic lamp #platonic analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #lo can write #I grew up on scooby doo and I just had to do this #hopefully it's at least a little bit amusing hahah

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ameryth74 · 5 years

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Louis **** Title Generator Tool

** **** it

LOL.... go!

Two letter words:

There are 107 acceptable 2-letter words listed in the Official Scrabble Players Dictionary, 6th Edition and the Official Tournament and Club Word List:

AA, AB, AD, AE, AG, AH, AI, AL, AM, AN, AR, AS, AT, AW, AX, AY, BA, BE, BI, BO, BY, DA, DE, DO, ED, EF, EH, EL, EM, EN, ER, ES, ET, EW, EX, FA, FE, GI, GO, HA, HE, HI, HO, ID, IF, IN, IS, IT, JO, JU, JY, JZ, KA, KI, KO, LA, LI, LO, MA, ME, MI, MM, MO, MU, MY, NA, NE, NO, NU, OD, OE, OF, OH, OI, OK, OM, ON, OP, OR, OS, OW, OX, PA, PE, PI, PO, QI, RE, SH, SI, SO, TA, TE, TI, TO, UH, UM, UN, UP, US, UT, WE, WO, XI, XU, YA, YE, YO, ZA

Two letter contractions: I’m, I’d

Four letter verbs:

abet, abut, abye/aby, ache, alit, ally, ante, arch, aver, avow (10).

baby, bach, back, bade, baff, bail, bait, bake, bald, bale, balk, ball, band, bang, bank, bant, barb, bard, bare, barf, bark, base, bash, bask, bate, bath, bauk, bawl, bead, beam, bean, bear, beat, beck, bede, beef, been, beep, bell, belt, bend, bent, bere, best, bias, bide(archaic usage), biff, bike, bilk, bill, bind, bird, birl, birr, bite, bitt, blab, blat, blaw, bled, blet, blew, blip, blob, blot, blow, blub, blue, blur, boak, boat, bode, body, boff(vulgar usage), boil, boke, bomb, bond, bone, bong, bonk, boob, book, boom, boot, bore, born, boss, boun, bowl, brad, brag, bray, bred, brew, brim, buck, buff, bulk, bull, bump, bung, bunk, bunt, buoy, burl, burn, burp, burr, bury, bush, busk, buss, bust, busy, butt, buzz (117).

ca-ca, cage, cake, calk, call, calm, came, camp, cane, cant, card, care, carp, cart, case, cash, cast, cave, cede, cere, chap, char, chat, chaw, chid, chin, chip, chop, chow, chug, chum, cite, clad, clam, clap, claw, clay, clew, clip, clog, clop, clot, cloy, club, clue, coal, coat, coax, cock, code, coif, coil, coin, coke, comb, come, comp, cone, conk, conn, cook, cool, coop, cope, copy, cord, core, cork, corn, cosh, cost, coup, cove, cowl, crab, cram, crap, crew, crib, crop, crow, cube, cuff, cull, curb, curd, cure, curl, curr, cuss (90).

dado, daff, damn, damp, dang, dare, dark, darn, dart, dash, date, daub, dawn, daze, deal, deck, deed, deem, defy, deke, dele, demo, dent, deny, dial, dice, died, diet, dike, dine, ding, ding, dint, dirk, disc, dish, disk, diss, dive, dock, doff, dole, dome, done, doom, dope, dose, doss, dote, dove, down, doze, drab, drag, draw, dray, dree, drew, drip, drop, drub, drug, drum, duck, duel, duet, dull, dumb, dump, dung, dunk, dupe, dusk, dust, dyke (75).

earn, ease, echo, eddy, edge, edit, emit, envy, espy, etch, even, exit (12).

face, fade, fail, fake, fall, fame, fard, fare, farm, fart, fash, fast, fate, fawn, faze, fear, feed, feel, fell, felt, fend, fess, fete, feud, file, fill, film, find, fine, fink, fire, firm, fish, fist, fizz, flag, flap, flat, flaw, flay, fled, flee, flew, flex, flip, flit, flog, flop, flow, flub, flux, foal, foam, foil, foin, fold, fond, fool, foot, ford, fork, form, foul, fowl, frag, frap, fray, free, fret, frig, frit, fuel, full, fume, fund, funk, furl, fuse, fuss, futz, fuze, fuzz (82).

gaff, gage, gain, gait, gall, game, gang, gaol, gape, garb, gash, gasp, gast(obsolete), gate, gaum(US), gave, gawk, gawp, gaze, gear, geld, gibe, gift, gild, gill, gimp, gird, girt, give, glad(archaic), glom, glow, glue, glug, glut, gnar, gnaw, go by, go on, goad, golf, gone, gong, goof, gore, gown, grab, gray, grew, grey, grid, grin, grip, grit, grow, grub, gulf, gull, gulp, gush, gust, gybe, gyre, gyve (64).

hack, haft, hail, hale, halo, halt, hand, hang, hare, hark, harm, harp, hash, hasp, hast, hate, hath(archaic), haul, have, hawk, haze, head, heal, heap, hear, heat, heed, heel, heft, held, helm, help, hent(obsolete), herd, hewn, hide, hike, hill, hint, hire, hiss, hive, hoax, hock, hoke(slang), hold, hole, home, hone, honk, hood, hoof, hook, hoop, hoot, hope, horn, hose, host, hove, howl, huff, hulk, hull, hump, hung, hunt, hurl, hurt, hush, husk, hymn, hype, hypo (74).

idle, inch, iris, iron, isle, itch (6).

jack, jade, jail, jape, jazz, jeep, jeer, jell, jerk, jest, jibe, jilt, jink, jinx, jive, join, joke, jolt, josh, juke, jump, junk (22).

kayo, keek(Scots), keel, keen, keep, kept, kern, kick, kill, kiln, kilt, kink, kiss, kite, knap, knew, knit, knot, know (19).

lace, lack, laid, lain, lair, lake, lamb, lame, land, lard, lark, lase, lash, last, lath, laud, lave, laze, lazy, lead, leaf, leak, lean, leap, lech, leer, left, lend, lens, lent, levy, lick, lift, like, lilt, limb, lime, limn, limp, line, link, lisp, list, live, load, loaf, loan, lock, loft, loll, long, look, loom, loop, loot, lope, lord, lose, lost, loup(Scots), lour, lout, love, lube, luck, luff, luge, lull, lump, lure, lurk, lust, lute, lyse (74).

mace, made, mail, maim, make, mall, malt, mark, marl, mart, mash, mask, mass, mast, mate, maul, maze, mean, meet, meld, mell, melt, mend, meow, mesh, mess, mete, mewl, miff, milk, mill, mime, mind, mine, mint, mire, miss, mist, moan, moat, mock, moil, mold, molt, moon, moor, moot, mope, moss, move, muck, muff, mull, mump, muse, mush, muss, must, mute (59).

nail, name, near, neck, need, nest, nick, nigh, nill(obsolete), nock, nose, nosh, note, nuke, null, numb (16).

obey, ogle, oink, okay, omen, omit, ooze, open, oust, over (10).

pace, pack, page, pain, pair, pale, pall, palm, pang, pant, pare, park, part, pash(Austral), pass, pave, pawn, peak, peal, peck, peek, peel, peen, peep, peer, pelt, pend, perk, perm, pick, pike, pile, pill, pimp, pine, ping, pink, pipe, piss(vulgar), pith, pity, plan, plat, play, plod, plop, plot, plow, plug, pock, poke, pole, poll, pond, pool, pore, port, pose, post, pour, pout, pray, pree, prep, prey, prim, prod, prog, prop, puff, puke, pule, pull, pulp, pump, punt, purl, purr, push, putt (80).

quad, quip, quit, quiz (4).

race, rack, raft, rage, raid, rail, rain, rake, ramp, rang, rank, rant, rape, rase, rasp, rate, rave, raze, razz, read, ream, reap, rear, reck, redd(dialect), rede(archaic), redo, reed, reef, reek, reel, rein, rely, rend, rent, rest, re-up, rice, rick, ride, riff, rift, rile, rill, rime(archaic)/rhyme, ring, riot, rise, risk, rive, roam, roar, robe, rock, rode, roil, rolf, roll, romp, roof, rook, room, root, rope, rose, rout, rove, ruck, ruff, ruin, rule, rush, rust (73).

sack, said, sail, sale, salt, sand, sass, sate, save, sawn, scab, scam, scan, scar, scat, scud, scum, seal, seam, sear, seat, seed, seek, seel, seem, seen, seep, sell, send, sent, sewn, shag, sham, shed, shim, shin, ship, shit, shoe, shog, shoo, shop, shot, show, shun, shut, sick, side, sift, sigh, sign, silk, silt, sing, sink, sire, site, size, skew, skid, skim, skin, skip, slab, slag, slam, slap, slat, slay, sled, slew, slid, slim, slip, slit, slog, slop, slot, slow, slub, slue, slug, slum, slur, smut, snag, snap, snip, snow, snub, snug, soak, soap, soar, sock, soil, sold, sole, solo, soot, sorb, sort, soup, sour, sown, spae(scottish), spam, span, spar, spat, spay, spec, sped, spew, spin, spit, spot, spud, spur, spurn, stab, stag, star, stay, stem, step, stet, stew, stir, stop, stow, stub, stud, stun, suck, suds, suit, sulk, sung, sunk, surf, swab, swag, swam, swan(brit), swap, swat, sway, swig, swim, swob, swop(brit)/swap, swot, swum, sync (155).

tabu, tack, tail, take, talc, talk, tame, tamp, tang, tank, tape, tare, task, taut, taxi, team, tear, teem, tell, tend, tent, term, test, text, thaw, thin, thud, tick, tide, tidy, tier, tiff, tile, till, tilt, time, tine, ting, tint, tire, toil, toke, told, tole, toll, tomb, tone, tong, took, tool, toot, tope, tore, torn, toss, tote, tour, tout, tram, trap, tree, trek, trim, trip, trod, trot, trow(archaic), true, tube, tuck, tuft, tune, turf, turn, tusk, twig(Brit), twin, twit, type (79).

undo, urge (2).

vade, vail(archaic), vamp, vary, veal, veer, veil, vein, vend, vent, vest, veto, vide, view, vine, visa, vise, void, vote (19).

wade, waft, wage, wail, wait, wake, wale, walk, wall, wane, want, ward, ware(archaic), warm, warn, warp, wash, waul, wave, wawl, wean, wear, weed, ween, weep, weet, weld, well, welt, wend, went, wept, were, wert(archaic), wham, whap, whet, whid(Scottish), whip, whir, whiz, whop, wick, wile, will, wilt, wind, wine, wing, wink, wipe, wire, wise, wish, wisp, wist, wite, wive, woke, wolf, wont, wood, woof, word, wore, work, worm, worn, wove, wrap, writ(archaic) (71).

x-ray (1).

yack, yank, yard, yarn, yaup, yawn, yawp, yean, yell, yelp, yerk, yeuk, yock, yoke, yowl, yo-yo(informal), yuck (17).

zero, zest, zinc, zing, zone, zonk, zoom (7).

IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IT

(yes there are 28 ITs)

#louis tomlinson #song title #** **** it #lt1 #lol 😂#*** **

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unholyhelbiglinked · 7 years

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Bite Me | UnpleasantVille

Mr. Saltzman leaned heavily against the edge of his desk, his breath smelling heavily of mint as he looked over the paper that I had handed in. His gaze was settled on the second page, knitting his eyebrows together as he focused intently.

My thumb was hooked on my bag as I looked down at my feet. My stomach was threatening to growl at this point, throat burning. I hadn't gotten a chance to eat breakfast this morning after getting into town so late last night. I was exhausted, falling asleep in Damon's backseat next to Elena wasn't the most comfortable.

"It's good," He nodded, finally flipping the plastic covering shut. "Really good actually. Has anyone ever told you that you have knack for narrative?"

"Narrative as in, never happened?" I gave him a small smile as he handed me back my paper.

"Oh, it all happened. Or at least that's what the history books say." He lifted his chin "You just write like you were there. It's a nice change of pace from the countless Wikipedia exerts I get."

I laughed, shaking my head as I placed the paper back into the bag behind me. Thanking him one last time for looking over my paper before I actually turned it in. Despite missing so much class, and not really needing to take them at all, I did care about my grades.

"Can I ask you something," he raised an eyebrow "Off the record."

"That depends on what it is."

He let out a something between a scoff and a sigh as he shifted his position. He looked nervous, scratching the back of his neck before he spoke. He was leaning heavily against his desk, a sweat forming against his brow.

"I'm a chaperone at the 50's dance tonight." Mr. Saltzman said as I raised an eyebrow. "And you're really good friends with Elena..."

"I suppose," I sounded the words out with caution. The next thing I needed was someone else digging around for answers that I couldn't quite give. Alaric seemed like a good man, one that I didn't want to wrap up in anything other than faculty meetings.

"You know her aunt, right? Jenna?"

"She broke me out of a jail cell once," I shrugged innocently as a jarring look crossed his face, mouth opening slightly "I mean, yes. I do. She's really sweet. I think you should go for it."

"I-uh," He started to stammer, not exactly trying to tell me that in the first place. But the two of them had gotten closer. From the many nights of long talks about Logan Fell and the man who broke her heart before, I knew Jenna needed something more. "Thank you,"

My eyes focused on the paper on Mr. Saltzman's desk. It was Jeremy Gilberts. A paper about vampires. Something that was written on a historical experience that took place in Mystic Falls.

I wanted to mention it. But instead I nodded with a small smile on my face before walking out into the hallway myself, my footfalls echoing against the near empty walls. A few people rested against lockers, Caroline and Matt being two of them. They were locked in a stance, her arms around his shoulders.

"Ro!" She pulled away from the football player, a sly smile against his lips as he leaned up against the wall even more. Caroline was trotting over me, grasping my elbow slightly as she lifted her chin. "You're going to the dance, right?"

"I wasn't planning on it-"

"You are now," She told me.

Her fingers were frigid against mine as she pressed a folded up piece of paper into my palm. It was warm, resting in her pocket for god knows how long. I knit my eyebrows together and bit the edge of my lip.

"Her name is Sammy." Caroline said, "Her younger sister is on the cheer squad."

"Caroline," I scoffed slightly "I don't need help in the dating department."

"Really?" The blonde cocked her head to the side, "figuratively, if you were to go to the dance, who would you take?"

I stared at her blankly, blinking a few times. The last person I had been with was Lexi- the girl that I grew to love overtime. She was strong willed and okay with only having the benefits of a sexual relationship. A lot of them had been like that, just sex.

"My point exactly." Caroline lifted an eyebrow "Call her."

The door was cracked open, lowly golden light spilling across green grass. Elena's porch was lit up, but something was wrong- an odd feeling dropping to the pit of my stomach as I stepped from the car.

Frosted over ground crunched under my feet as I walked up to the front door, breath forming in the air in front of me. This whole place had an odd settlement to it; Jenna's car not in the driveway. I was sure she left early to set up for the school dance.

A loud crash rang through the house, my caution quickly dissipating as I rushed into the house, not bothering to close the door behind me. A man dressed in dark clothing held Elena to the ground, his hands around her neck as he squeezed slightly.

The mans eyes were dark, veins growing from under them as drool dripped from his extended canine teeth. I grasped the back of his hoodie, pulling him roughly away from her. He hadn't noticed me, a deafening bang rushing through the house as I threw him against the nearby end table.

Elena drew in a sharp breath, coughing a bit as she pulled at her collar. The man stood, his stance ragged and slacked. Blood was dripping across the edge of his lip as he moved his sleeve against the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widened before he dashed away, right through the door of the house and into the night. Elena had tears running down her face, her palm clenched around what looked like the Gilbert device. The pointer was spinning relentlessly as I knelt down near her.

"Oh my god," She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, tucking her head into my shoulder as the door creaked open once more. Stefan stood there, ready and dressed for the dance as he let out a long breath.

"what the hell, Stef?" I asked, knitting my eyebrows together. Clearly, I was missing something important here. After getting home from Georgia I had gone a bit off the grid myself, but didn't think much of it. It had only been a couple of days.

He let out a thick sigh as Elena moved to his arms instead. I was thankful, the button of the plaid high waisted pants I wore dug into my skin and made it uncomfortable to stay in this position. "Noah is the vampire that Elena hit with her car a few nights ago."

"Right," I ran a hand through my hair "So he just decides out of nowhere to attack Elena?"

"No, he must want something." The Salvatore vampire replied. "We just don't know what."

"Use me as bait." Elena said, quickly, earning jarring looks from both Stefan and I as we spoke almost at the same time, my mouth going dry as my tone switched from caring to harsh.

"No."

"Absolutely not."

Elena scoffed, lifting herself up from the ground as she took on a defensive stance herself. She glanced back and forth between Stefan and I, her lips slightly parted. "Why not? You'll both me there. So will Damon. It's a crowded place filled with people."

My gaze softened a bit. She had a point. If there was any night to interrogate a vampire with a death complex now would be it. He was strong, clearly knowing what he was doing. He may have more intention to hurt Elena than before.

"Rowan, please." Elena could see my resolve cracking a bit as I let out a thick sigh.

"You're not seriously considering this?" Stefan asked, his voice shocked. His eyes dropped as he saw the hopeful look on my face. "You are."

"We'll all be there." I shrugged "And it's in the middle of a school dance. How much damage can he really do?"

The music pressed against the edges of the building, it's bass making the walls shake as old movies lit up the room from oddly placed projectors. The floor was filled with people, dancing to dated music as they wore clothes they probably found in thrift shops.

It didn't exactly take me back to the 50's, but it didn't do such a bad job.

I was more focused on avoiding Caroline while keeping a keen eye on Elena to question the décor further. Something about school dances always gave me an uneasy feeling- almost like a bucket of red paint was willing to drop at any second. It would make all hell break loose.

A hand on my shoulder made me tense up, my head dropping slightly as I turned around with a thick sigh. Caroline had one eyebrow cocked; her bright blue eyes looked mesmerizing under the tinted lights.

"You're not alone are you?" She asked, more worried than angry. "Oh god, you are. I thought you were going to call Sammy."

"I will," I raised my hands up in surrender, "Honest. Bringing a girl to a high school dance on a first date just isn't my style."

Caroline nodded thoughtfully, knitting her eyebrows together as Matt walked up to the two of us with punch. He had a lazy smile on his face, offering me the cup which I politely declined. The music was a bit loud, my stomach churning a bit as I looked around the crowded dance floor.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, something that I was thankful to hear over the roar of the beat. "Excuse me," I got a nod from the couple before I moved off to the side of the gym and swiped my phone open. Before I got a chance to speak, I heard dark words from the man I had seen earlier.

"You're very concerned about your sister's little look-a-like." Noah spoke, voice gravelly. "She doesn't need you right now, tough. Jeremy does. So unless you want to scrub blood from half of the c-wing, I suggest you get out there."

My eyes swept the room, jaw clenched as a dial tone filled my ears. Mr. Saltzman was working some booth with Jeremy the last I checked. But he stood with Damon now, his face scrunched up and almost upset. I didn't have time to struggle with the darker Salvatore now- I needed to get the hallway.

Pushing my way through the enormous crowd I finally got to a place that wasn't filled with hormonal teenagers in tacky clothes. The hallway was dark, a sharp chill moving across my spine. It was cooler out here, my boots making odd noises against the floor as I rushed towards Jeremy.

"Fuck, Stefan." I cursed as his shoulder rammed right into my chest. I let out a breath, grasping his shoulders "Wait, Stefan, what the hell?"

"I got a phone call." He panted, placing his hands on his knees. "Saying Jeremy was out here."

"He's not." I shook my head. "Shit, he's not."

Instead of answering Stefan I took off again, sprinting down the hall until I heard something other than the pounding music in the gymnasium. The school was mostly coated in silence, but one determining factor stood out from the rest.

Noah's voice.

He was in the café, the lights dimmed and the whirl of nearby vending machines drowning out Stefan's presence next to me. His fangs dripped with saliva as he opened his mouth wider. He held his arm flush across Elena's chest, keeping her in place.

"Come any closer and I kill her." He shouted at me.

Elena stared like she expected me to talk him down. Like I would bring him away from the edge like I had done so effectively with Lexi's boyfriend. But I had no patience or virtue for the man standing in front of me.

"Go ahead." I stepped forward slowly "Bite her."

"Rowan," Stefan warned as I walked closer. He was rooted to the doorway as warm tears dripped from Elena's cheeks.

"What?" Noah spoke now, confusion moving past his features.

"I'm not going to repeat myself." I stopped right in front of the pair, his grip lessening a bit. "Hell, you can turn her if you want. You certainly have her in the position to do so."

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Stefan croaked out from behind me, fear evident in his voice as I raised my hand slightly to silence him. It worked for the time being, his lovesick heart beating rapidly.

Noah adjusted his stance, sniffing a bit. His eyes were rimmed red like Elena's. I was quiet as I cocked my head to the side, biting my lip slightly. "You're not going to do it though, are you? Because she looks too much like Katherine."

"Shut up." He snarled.

"Is that it?" I cracked a smile. "Elena here looks like a woman who broke your heart?"

Damon cleared his throat from behind me, having stormed into the room a few seconds after Stefan. I ignored them both. "How about you stop taunting the man who's holding Elena by the throat, okay?"

Elena let out a small whimper, snot running from her nose as Noah's shoulders slumped slightly. He was distracted, if only for a moment. The thought of my sister made him gaze longingly at the girl in his arms.

I was quick to reach to my side, grasping a mop that was left there by one of the janitors. I broke it over my knee in one swift movement, fast enough for him to barely react. With one push, I shoved the pointed edge into his abdomen.

He let out a loud scream, one that brought him to his knee's as Stefan ran forward, pulling Elena into his embrace and away from the scene. Damon on the other hand, stood right next to me. His scent filled my nose as I twisted the edge of the broom.

"Why are you here?" Damon asked, snarled.

"I'm not telling you anything."

I let out a small sigh and dug the tip closer to his heart. He let out a dark noise. "Try that again."

"The book," He said.

"What book?" I raised an eyebrow.

"The stupid Gilbert Journal. We thought Elena had it. He knows why." Noah let out a choked sob as he glared at Damon "You'll have to kill me. I'm not talking. Not anymore."

I glanced at Damon for a second. I wasn't sure if it was it was for his approval or to steady myself. I hadn't killed in such a long time, never wanting to harm anyone since what happened with Vicki.

Despite my reserves, I pressed upwards, a sickening crunch filling the air as he let out a strange noise. The veins that once grew from below his eyes were quick to spread to the rest of his ashen skin. He grasped the rod where it rested before falling to the side- all live leaving him.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair before feeling Damon's hand on my shoulder slightly. A form of comfort. "I'll clean this up." He said. "Go home, Rowan."

[A/N: Wow, so Sammy is probably going to become a new character and love interest for Rowan. Any thoughts?]

#tvd #vampire Diaries #gxg

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