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Language:
English
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Published:
2019-10-01
Completed:
2019-11-01
Words:
73,951
Chapters:
32/32
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188
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Whumptober 2019 (ephemeral-afterlight)

Summary:

The masterpost for Whumptober 2019!

Tumblr Post Masterlist

Notes:

so! this is the first time i've ever done a writing challenge, and i'm notorious for starting shit and never finishing it, but i'll try my best to do every prompt on the list! enjoy these angsty, whumpy stories (ノ>ヮ<)ノ*:・゚✧

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Day 1: Shaky Hands

Summary:

Prompt no.1, "Shaky Hands".

So it begins. We're in for a wild, ride, aren't we?

Warnings in end notes!

Notes:

Word Count: 1364

Relationships: none

A/N: yeah. please heed the warnings. the ending is ambiguous for now so if that isn’t your thing, or if you’re uncomfortable with description of a suicide attempt, stay away from this one.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The door to the bathroom closes with a soft click, a short echo in the small room that holds too much and simultaneously too little significance to him. It isn’t much, just a shower/tub combo, a sink, and a toilet, but it’s more than fine for what needs to happen. It’s here, and it’s away from the others, and it’s good enough. The sounds of the television and happy banter come muffled from the living room, nothing but a small portion of hallway to separate his final resting place from the antithesis. In there, it’s so filled with life, and love, and sounds, musical laughs and joking teasing bubbling up as a way to ease the tensions of the day. But in the bathroom? In here, it’s cold, quiet, sad, lonely, dying. 

It’s just like him, Deceit muses, a humourless smile working its way onto his weary face.

He decided this a long time ago, but honestly, it’s just been a matter of psyching himself up to doing it at this point. There have been times where he’s been close, so close to just getting it over with, but he always chickens out at the end.

Not this time.

Maybe he’s just being dramatic. Maybe it’s all in his head. He’s always felt out of place here, not just with the “light” sides, but with Remus too. He feels like an outcast, a loner who was forced into a box and hasn’t made his way out of it since. There’s nobody to talk to, nobody to relate to. He can’t even appear in front of the other sides without them sneering or rolling their eyes and he can almost feel the pure hatred rolling off of them in waves. He isn’t trying to be the bad guy. He doesn’t even want to be the bad guy. He just… wants to help. He’s always tried to help.

Lot of good that did him, huh?

As Deceit sits down in the empty bath, lays back against the wall and almost relishes in the familiarly uncomfortable, cold hardness meeting his head, he thinks of Virgil. Virgil, who used to be his best friend. Virgil, who would be the one to hear him out when he needed to rant about something. Virgil, who would cuddle with him at night and lend some bodily warmth just to make sure Deceit didn’t get sick or freeze to death. He remembers all the banter, all the happiness, all the times they laughed and joked around and did stupid stuff just because they were young and it was fun. And then Virgil got accepted by the light sides, got accepted by Thomas, and then it was like all of that history didn’t exist. Virgil suddenly hated him, for no reason that Deceit could pinpoint, and he still does. Deceit wishes that he knew what made Virgil do such a 180, knew what he did that was so unforgivable that Virgil can’t even stand to be in his former best-friend’s presence. He wishes he could apologize without immediately getting yelled at, wishes he could atone for a sin he isn’t even aware of.

As Deceit slips off his capelet, strips down to his long sleeved grey shirt and black slacks, he thinks of Patton. How he never really knew Patton, never really got a chance to understand. He thinks about the first time they were introduced to one another, when Deceit was still very young and desperately in need of guidance after the confusion that is a new side being developed and placed into the mindscape. Patton had been welcoming, so welcoming, and loving, and warm. Deceit wanted to stay with him forever. And then Deceit told Patton his purpose, told him his purpose proudly without realizing his mistake, and he had to watch as Patton’s stare shifted into something cold, something hostile. He cried as Patton told him he was evil, wrong for existing, he sobbed as Patton ushered him out the door and into the cold winter of the mindscape and locked the door behind him. He whimpered as the chill set deep into his bones, whined softly into the flurry with his heart slowing to near-fatal levels. He wonders why Patton hated him without even knowing his name. He wonders why he hated himself too, as Virgil found him half-buried in snow and took him into the “dark” sides’ common room to save his life.

As Deceit picks up the bottle of pills from where they sit beside the tub, turns the plastic over and over in his fingertips, he thinks of Roman. He thinks of Roman, who didn’t used to hate him, not at first. When they first met, Roman was excited to have a new playmate, a new friend to go on adventures with. But then Deceit was kicked into the cold, and the next time they saw each other, Roman pulled out his plastic toy sword and called him evil too. As they grew, and as Deceit became more and more bitter, the same routine never stopped. Roman always brandishes his treasured blade at even a glance of him, wicked sharp and too dangerous to wave around for dramatic effect. Deceit would know, since the scar on his shoulder still hasn’t faded a single bit.

As Deceit twists the cap, sighs at the sound of it falling to the ground beside the bathtub, he thinks of Remus. Remus, the one who has been there with Deceit for longer than Virgil has, but is still just as distant. It’s not as if he holds ill will towards Deceit specifically, but it’s more like he’s so caught up in himself and all of his “experiments” that he doesn’t have time for anyone else. Remus can go for weeks, even months without leaving his room, which has left Deceit completely and utterly alone for a majority of the life he’s lived as a side. They’re not enemies, but they’re not friends either, and Remus feels like a whisper in the wind, gone before you know it.

As Deceit shakes a pile of pills into his other hand, he thinks of Logan. Logan, who is the only one Deceit actually thinks might not despise him as much as the others do. He was the only one that day who looked uncomfortable with Patton’s words, the only one who opened his mouth to speak when Patton forced Deceit outside into the blizzard. But in his fear he remained silent, too afraid of being rejected or thrown out too to speak up. Logan hasn’t ever been outwardly aggressive towards him like the others have, but he hasn’t really been friendly either, so Deceit just left him alone. He doesn’t want to risk fucking something up again and making Logan hate him too.

Deceit stares blankly at the pills that jump in his quivering hand, and his mind rushes through every time he tried to help Thomas or one of the other sides but was demonized for it anyway. His head feels hazy, and his lungs quake in his chest, and he downs every single pill in the bottle a few at a time with hands that shake and tremble and ache.

His head is light, and he isn’t really thinking about anything in particular, but he does feel a relaxation take over every inch of his body. The pure relief that comes with finally doing what he’s wanted to do for so long, the knowledge that he will die and fade away and he’ll be replaced with a better version of himself, one that the others won’t hate, it makes his head fuzzy and his heart warm. Or maybe that’s the fatal dosage of medication. He doesn’t really care. He’s just glad to know that his death will make the others happy, that he’ll do something good for once, and that Thomas will finally be better off without such a dysfunctional side dwelling inside him.

His consciousness fades even with the pain beginning to bloom from his abdomen, and a soft darkness creeps in around the peripherals of his vision, and through his muffled hearing, he hears the bathroom door click open.

Notes:

CONTENT WARNINGS:

Suicide/Suicide attempt
Open/Ambiguous ending
Major character death (if that's how you interpret it)
Pill overdose
Implied unsympathetic/manipulative Patton (potentially redeemable)
Unresolved tension/angst
Self-hatred