Chapter 1: Supers Suck
Being a Super’s weird. Although, Virgil wouldn’t know. He was a normal human being (If you took away the horns and wings, but almost everyone had some kind of inhuman feature), living in a normal city with a normal crime rate, and went to a normal school with a normal job.
That was before he moved.
Now, here he was, in a whole different country sitting in a half-wrecked cheap apartment. But, hey, at least he was able to pursue the career he wanted.
Strumming his guitar, he sung his latest album beneath his breath. Yeah, sure, he wasn’t famous in anyway, but he got paid (Sometimes) and that’s what counts. Plus, he’s able to pursue his dream job-A musician. The downside of being a unpopular anxiety ridden musician with horns and wings (but didn't seem to have any powers) was that you were broke. Virgil thought that maybe moving would allow him more opportunities. Pffffft. He could dream. Now, being in a new city in a new house in a neighborhood with three times the amount of crime, he could tell that maybe, just maybe, this was a mistake.
Of course, that’s not even counting the Supers.
Everyone was had superpowers, or at least, they had some unnatural ability or looks.
Everyone. There hasn’t been a single child born without any inhuman abilities animal traits or something unique and special about them. Even if that unique thing was something they (or society) hated.
Even with all the superpowers, only twelve percent of the population became a Super. Technically, everyone was a Super. But not everyone’s a crime fighting Super. Everyone wanted to still act human even when they’re inhuman, be powerless even if they were powerful. It was like a God giving up his powers to be a cashier that barely met minimum wage.
Of course Virgil would do that. Who would want that pressure in their life?
Even less of the population went to crime (Ten percent.) Even fewer became a Anti-Super.
Anti-Supers were almost as weird, if not weirder, then Supers. They dedicated their powers to destruction, mayhem, all that good stuff. They loved it. Many Anti-Supers became that way because of a pressure in their life, like being born with dark magic. Everyone would tell them they’re evil and bad, then try to blame the dark magic for making the Anti-Super a Anti-Super. In reality they are the ones who make the magic dark. Just because you can control the dark doesn’t mean you support it. Just because you control the shadows doesn’t mean you can be shadowed and shamed.
So, yeah. Supers. Supers were, well, super weird. Who would willingly dedicate their life to stopping a couple of kids who stole a Kitkat or something? Leave that to the police. They stop the crime legally, unlike the Supers.
Even with their kinda-mostly-pretty-much illegal actions, everyone freaking worshipped them. Comics, movies, books, meetups-All of that dedicated to the Supers. He didn't know why. They weren’t that special-Heck, anyone who decides to fight crime could be a Super. Their job was so easy-Just hit someone once or twice then they’re down. All the ‘emotional trauma’ and ‘high pressure’ they talked about in the comic was absolute bullcrap. Sure, they have a bit of pressure but it’s not like the entire world was going to die because of the Anti-Supers.
They aren’t heroes. They’re people who just decided to do something with their life.
But then, that begs the question of ‘What is a hero’? To Virgil, a hero is someone who does something life risking, something completely selfless. Someone who does something not because of the fame like the Supers, they do it because they want to help the world. They are the heroes.
Virgil paused his strumming and humming. He could make a song based off that.
Oh, yeah, back on topic. Supers were the worst in his old city. Sure, they had barely any crime, but the Super team there was so...judging. Virgil may have horns, wings, and fangs but that doesn’t mean he has powers. When he was younger, they called him stubborn for not showing his ability, but he didn't know how to. He didn't have the strength or the will to. Either that or he has X’s disease, which is very very very unlikely. X’s disease means you have the superpower look, like Virgil, but you don’t have powers. It’s very rare, and he highly doubts he has it. He just doesn’t have the energy nor the will to summon his powers, even at 27. He doesn’t even know how.
Oh my God, he freaking sucks.
His mom always told him that maybe he didn't have the will because nothing big has happened to give him the will. She was like him, didn't ‘get’ her powers until she was 23. She ‘got’ her powers because she was being mugged, and she suddenly got the will to fight back.
Virgil has never had some big event in his life that suddenly brought the motivation to attack with his so called ability or anything. Nothing even close.
So, here Virgil was, sitting on hard floorboards with his back up against a cracked wall, strumming his guitar. The TV was blasting the news-Supers, of course-while the neighbors argued.
It's better then nothing.
Chapter 2: Well Damn, That Was Quick
In which the fic moves along a bit too fast, but ya know, plot development
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
You know, going to the store to buy groceries sounded a lot better about an hour ago.
Now, for some freaking reason, he was on the floor next to a carton of spilt milk having a freaking panic attack because he-Wait, why was he panicking?
Oh God, why was he panicking? What’s wrong with him? It was probably because he spilt the milk, but that’s not enough to fling him into panic. Was he that stressed out? Was the milk just the final hit before he crumbled? God, was his job that stressful?
He took a deep, shuddering breath. Calming techniques, Virgil, calm yourself.
He glanced around, his vision swimming but he still attempted to count the things he could see. A...A carton of spilt milk. The groceries. His hands. The wings surrounding him.
He looked up again. Someone was walking towards him.
Maybe-Maybe they’ll ignore him, hopefully they’d ignore him, oh God he’s a mess. His breathing hitched again. Go away go away go away go away-
Another deep breath. Keep going.
He could hear the air ventilation, blasting above him. And the music-The store was playing soft music. Calming. He could hear the sound of footsteps-Were they walking towards him or away? God, he hoped they were walking away. And voices. Loud voices, but he wasn’t able to make out what they were saying. Were they close? Was he that out of it?
Breathing technique. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat.
Okay-Okay, three things he can feel. He could do that-Right? Yeah, he could do that, he could.
He felt the fabric of his baggy jacket against his arm. He wanted to rip it off. Touch didn't feel good, it made him want to scream or cry or-
“Hey, you good?” The voice was too close to not be talking to him. He wanted to speak. He wanted to scream at them to go away, to fight them off, to-
He placed a hand on his shoulder.
It was too much. Too much touch, too much attention, it was too much, he needed to get away, he needed to move-He needed to run. He couldn’t move, he was touching him, stop touching him-Please. Please stop, please, please, please-
“Don’t touch me!” He screamed as loud as his body would let him. Virgil moved across the floor, barely moving an inch but he tried so hard to get away, he needs to get away. He glanced up. The dude was already gone. Where did he go?
He looked around. Everything had a purple tint. He spotted the boy was halfway down the aisle, groaning and holding his side. Three people have rushed towards him.
“Shoulda known better then to help a dark magic.” Dark magic? Virgil didn't have magic. What was he…
He reached a hand out. It hit something solid.
Screaming, he launched back into the wall. The air around him rippled, but stayed put. What was that? There was nothing there, nothing but a purple tint to the air around him,. Why was everything purple?
He raised his hand again, timidly reaching out to poke the air again. Another ripple, but this time he didn't flinch.
It was truly beautiful, if he was being honest.
Something- Something burning swirled at his fingertips, dancing and flowing between his fingers and up his wrist. The excess just flowed between the disturbance and continued it’s way. It was strangely… relaxing. Calming. All old anxious thoughts seemed to disappear from his mind, leaving him blissfully blank. The shield (Was that what it was?) was calming.
The others faces seemed to disagree.
They were wincing, scowling, frowning. There were about five people-Five too many, ten eyes watching his every move. Although they were all showing different expressions (Ranging from disgust to fear), they had one thing in common.
They were anxious.
Even the ones who seemed to hide it, the ones who used jeers instead of wide eyes had some anxiety in them, Virgil could feel it. Why could he feel it? How could he feel it?
“This is why we don’t need dark magic,” A girl with deer legs and golden horns commented under her breath, sneering at him. Dark magic?
“Look at him. Using a shield to protect himself, like a coward,” Another girl with more moth-like features hissed. So the shield-bubble-thing was the purple hue? It could make sense-Was that why the boy (Who was visibly a merman, Virgil noted) was flung off of him?
Someone in the crowd hissed-Full on hissed- and kicked his shield. Fatal mistake-It didn't ripple like it did for Virgil. In fact, it flung him back as well.
He had came to the conclusion that his little shield protected him from anything and no one could get to him.
Little? His wings were huge-They couldn’t fit in this tiny bubble that barely covered him just lying in the fetal position. He patted his back- His wings weren’t there. He patted his head. His horns weren’t there.
Panic-Another wave of panic drowned him-He had just calmed down. Deep breaths, Virge, deep breaths. They weren’t working-Nothing was working-Where were his wings-
He wanted his wings back so bad-He needed them back. If he could-If he could summon the bubble with just his will the first time, could he could summon his wings with his will, right? Right?
Nothing. Nothing came. His bubble didn't feel calming-It felt constricting and he needs to breathe-
The magic swirled back around his head and he instantly felt calm. I’m fine, he told himself. My magic will protect me.
His very own magic. He had his own magic.
Slowly, he stood up, the bubble around him moving for him, flowing and smooth and so calm. The people stared, eyes wide and judging but who cares? He has his own thing, his own magic and no one could stop him.
He stood tall and strong. Nothing could take him down.
Other then the Anti-Hero who just walked in with a gun.
I wonder who's going to show up next chapter ;) ;)
I wonder who's going to show up next chapter and caused me great pain to write that horrible ending ;) ;)
(Personally, I H a t e it when people touch me when I'm panicking. I can and will hurt you sorry tho)
Chapter 3: Bullet
In which we are introduced to some lame ass heroes.
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Virgil thought he had his magic under control. He could dream. He was way too new to it-After all, he literally just got his magic.
But, alas, he didn't have it under his control. Right when the man walked in and pointed the gun in just his direction, his magic immediately swirled right out of his fingertips and retreated from his wrists, and all he had was he newly returned wings and horns. No safe bubble to calm him down the moment anxiety overtook his thoughts and mind. He was alone.
He should’ve considered the crime rates, godd*** it.
The villain moved closer to them, his eyes glowing a faint pink. As much as he hates to admit it-He's rather attractive. Yeah, he knows, it's terrible to admit. But God his brown hair with the single curl on his forehead, his jawline, his overall physical appearance. At least he knows his personality isn't the best, unless somehow beneath all his robbing-a-store-armed thing is a facade and he's actually a sweet guy.
Virgil almost laughs at that, before really thinking about the situation. He's a civilian at a robbery. An armed robbery, at that. Dang. Unfortunate for him.
He hears someone whisper behind him "It's Lust." Lust? What kind of villain name is that? This kid had the ability to pick any name at all, and he picked Lust?
This kid's already off to a bad start.
Another person whispers behind him "I'm calling the Sides."
The Sides. The Sides.
What-No, who in the world is that?
Please don't tell him they're Supers. Please don't tell him they're Supers. Please don't tell him they're-
A crash. And a bang. And then, the most stupidly hero-like voice rings out "Lust! Your days of crimes are over!"
Oh my God.
A man, shorter in height with tons of freckles where the blue mask doesn't cover, points dramatically at the attractive villain. The boy, who Virgil now notices has large white angel wings sprouting out of his back and almost comically red stubs (he later thinks how they're probably demon horns), is followed by a man with slicked back dark brown hair and circuit board design covering his skin and a man with the most extravagant masquerade ball type mask, and rainbow paint splatters all across his jawline and cheeks, never reaching his nose.
Wow. What a group.
Extravagant ball man immediately whipped out a sketchbook and pencil and furiously scribbled something down. Moments after, a sword popped out of his sketchbook. Okay, maybe that's a cool power. Maybe.
The other guy, computer boy (as Virgil decided to call him), lifts his hands and seems to see something in the room no one else can see. Demon angel dude whispers something to him, and then computer dude whispers something to paint man.
Yeah, their whole plan thing seems to be a wreck.
But, right when he starts to doubt them, all three of them spring up and launch themselves towards the villain with swift skill and tactics. It's strange to watch, but even a hero hater like Virgil can appreciate their teamwork and planning.
Not even minutes later, Lust is tied down with skill, and Paint guy is on his back, knee pressing into his back.
Virgil watched all of this, wide eyed, almost wanting to join in. Almost. There was just something about the way they moved, the way they talked, they way they were praised that made him wish to join them and in that moment he understood them.
Paint guy was just finishing a long, overdone speech when Virgil came back to reality. And when he did, for a split second, he could see Lust slightly twisting his body.
Before he could call out, a loud SNAP! Filled the air, and all Virgil could do was watch as Lust… planted a kiss on Prince dude's (Virgil had then noticed the man's very regal outfit and choose his new nickname accordingly) cheek..?
Prince's face went from an expression of pride and honor to one of shock and almost blank eyes. Almost milliseconds after, he collapsed onto the floor.
Oh my Go-
Lust sprung up, using his arms to literally launch himself a few feet away from them, literally landing on his feet.
Virgil is so awestruck, he doesn't even notice that Lust had reached his gun.
He does notice, however, when he hears the sound of a bullet ripping through the air towards the Supers.
And his dumb a**, his absolute dumb a**, also doesn't notice (wow, he's as observant as Harry-Freakin-Potter) that he's now in front of the certified, experienced heroes with his inexperienced, terrible magic.
And with his terrible, inexperienced magic, he decides to make a shield, which he has no idea if it can withstand a bullet, and hope.
He instinctively covers the two Supers with his wings, hiding them in the black fluffy feathers as they all watch as seemingly time slows down.
The bullet hits the shield. The shield ripples, the bullet passing through.
They all watch as the bullet nears them, and Virgil's practically mentally writing his farewell note to the world at this point.
Then, something truly amazing happens.
The shield seems to dip in towards them, reaching towards the bullet, absorbing half of it into itself.
"Holy s***," Virgil breathed, watching with wide eyes as the shield returns to its original form, bullet half peeking out towards them.
This is not the best writing ever, but damn did I have fun writing it so who cares
The cursings censored for whatever reason so that's fun but who cares tbh it's a early update
Chapter 4: Character Development Is For Cowards (Virgil's a coward)
In which Virgil's really starting to regret this whole 'helping the heroes' thing.
Im so sorry that this update took forever!!
And that it's so short!!
I had some things pop up and couldn't work on it, but it's been over a month so I finally uploaded this
im already working on the next chapter, and if everything goes well, it should be out soon!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"Wow." Someone breathed out behind him, causing him to whip around.
Oh. He forgot they were there.
The computer guy was somewhat sprawled on the ground, glasses askew and eyes wide with what Virgil could only describe as curiosity. On the other hand, the demon-angel boy’s pastel blue eyes were wide with, well, fear. Anxiety.
It was radiating off of him, in some way that Virgil could just feel in his bones. He could feel the boy’s anxiety deep in his skin, not quite a tingling sensation. His anxiety felt different then the people who stared at him wide-eyed and scared of him. No, his anxiety was not fear of him, but fear for him. This anxiety didn't feel tingly and like something that crept under his skin, this anxiety felt like creaking in his bones and the urge to twitch his fingers. It was weird. Very, very weird.
Computer guy didn't look like he could feel the same twitchy feeling he did, so he let it go, instead continuing to stare into the pastel blue eyes of the boy in front of him.
His cape was askew like the computer boy’s glasses, showing off the tanner skin of his back, where the back of the superhero costume seemed to make room for his wings. He sat directly behind Virgil’s large wing, while simultaneously hiding himself in his own fluffy white-blue feathers.
“I-Just…” Angel-demon stuttered. “Woah.”
Computer pushed his glasses back up with his left hand, remaining balanced on the other and, by magic it seemed like, removed any and all traces of the curious emotion that was in his eyes. “I suppose that’s an agreeable response, Patt-Morality.”
Virgil never heard that name before. Morality. What a strange hero name.
But, at least he had a hero name.
Virgil glanced back to where Lust should’ve laid, but he was gone. Completely gone.
Virgil breathed a sigh of what could only be described as selfish relief. He didn't want to be seen by the public as a new hero for saving the Sides. No, with this most recent failure, he wouldn’t be marked as a hero. He would hardly be recognized.
Computer boy didn't seem nearly as happy.
“What-We lost him?!” He shouted, seemingly trying to rise but failing ultimately. He must have injured his leg in battle, if that hiss of pain had something to do with it.
“No, we lost him! We almost had him!” He shouted again, shaking a little more then before. Geez, he must have really hurt his leg. “Another deadly sin, off the streets, and in prison with his two friends! We almost got him!”
Deadly sins? Wait-There’s six more?
“You-” He pointed right at Virgil. “What’s your name?”
God, he better not be asking for his hero name. He can’t just bullsh*t something on the spot. “R-Real, or-”
“Your hero name, dumb*ss.” Morality looked offended by what he could only assume was the profianty. But that was less important. Of course, Virgil had to bullsh*t something on the spot.
“I’m not a hero-” he tried to reason, before being interrupted once again by Computer boy.
“You’re obviously a hero, kid, now tell me your name.”
“I’m not a hero-!”
“Then we’ll train you.” There’s no way. He has to say no, he can’t do that, he can’t do this. He’s too much of a bother, he just got his power, this was an accident, he had to come up with something to get out of this situation.
Too bad Computer boy looked way too determined.
“Hero name,” He demanded, and Morality looked ready to protest.
‘C’mon Virgil, come up with something!’ His mind screamed at him, begging him to say something, anything.
Before his mind could catch up with his mouth, he stuttered out an answer.
“Anxiety..?” He responded, sounding out the word as if he was tasting them on his tongue. He looked as if he was feeling the way they felt on his lips, in his mouth, but in the end, nodded.
“Anxiety. Suits you.”
He didn't know if he should be complimented or insulted.
shout out to everyone who leaves comments, i love you so much you inspired me to continue this and not just give up
im your mother now
eat ur veggies