Sanders Sides Whumpshots

"Maybe you deserved it." (Stars fall)

Stars fall.

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The main thing he could remember was the kicking and screaming.

He thrashed. He thrashed so much his body started shaking, but thinking back, that mightve been his natural response to what was about to happen to him.

Virgil knew something out of the ordinary was going to happen when Remus spontaneluy rose up in his room one night, something unusual for the usually unpredictable side.

It was all too soon that Virgil was pinned down to his own bed, clothes being ripped off him faster than he could register. That's when the thrashing really kicked in.

Virgil's face was suddenly wet. When did he start crying? He just assumed Remus merely entering his room was enough to set him off.

A series of please and no's felt like it echoed into nothing as Remus kept on going, like there was an invisible wall blocking out Virgil's sounds of distress.

The scream Virgil let out when he felt something inside him was guttural. He didn't think he could recreate it if he tried.

He remembers the tears that didn't stop flowing down his face, the way his body failed to stop shaking, and the noises from above him as Remus ignored it all.

That was when he realized he was right about being so unnerved by Remus. He wasn't just intrusive thoughts, he was the nightmare sent to torment Virgil for the rest of his days.

Warmth suddenly pooled inside him, and that was when Remus stopped. Virgil didn't even have the energy to be grateful, but did have it in him to begin sobbing again.

Remus grinned down at him, hair disheveled with a sick grin plastered on his face, "we should do this more often. Make it our special thing, huh?" Virgil answered with more sobs, curling in on himself as he didn't even try to cover himself up, everything aching as his shoulders shook with each shaky breath he forced in.

It felt as soon as Remus appeared, he left again, leaving Virgil to be alone in the room he knew he would no longer feel the same in anymore.

After a while he remembers slipping his pants back on, wrapping his jacket around himself and constricting himself in blankets, burying his face in his pillow as what just happened sunk in.

Remus did something no person should, violating Virgil like it was nothing.

Virgil rolled onto his back as he felt his breath quicken between cries, panic feasting at his insides as it crawled up his throat, ripping it's way through Virgil in one of the worst panic attacks he remembers having.

The world around him dissapeared, and Virgil fell into the same familar void he always tried to avoid, breaths coming in too shallow, too little.

Slow down, a tiny voice in his head begged, take a step back and breathe, and he did, or tried at least, and eventually, thanks to that little voice that would help him in times like this, he was back in his bedroom, free of the void, anxiously wondering when it would decide to claim him again.

Virgil remembers pulling himself out of bed, re-dressing himself while contemplating going to Deceit. Surely he'd see Remus took it too far this time, that he needs to take a step back and leave Virgil in the solitude he always preferred.

Gathering all the might he could muster, Virgil rose up in the only side's room that seemed to have his back, wanting to collapse into sobs upon seeing the other reading in his chair.

"Remus-" he cried out, "he- he went too far this time." Virgil could see that Janus understood, hoping that he would scoop Virgil up and tell him everything would be okay, that he'd never have to interact with Remus again.

The worry that had pooled in his stomach twisted as Janus stood up, taking Virgil's tear tracked face in his gloved hands, soft words flowing through him, "maybe you deserved it. Maybe he had the right to do whatever he wanted with you." And Virgil cried again, but not because those weren't the words he wanted to hear, but because the words were true. Anxiety was a useless function, and being useless meant you were nothing, that anything that happened to you meant nothing, because he was Anxiety.

Virgil's shoulders shook as Janus pulled him in for a hug, gently shushing him as he rubbed comforting circles on his back, the same hand that had bought him nothing but pain in the past.

Virgil remembers standing there, crying into the man's arms who had treated him no better, thinking that this was how life was going to be, that this was all Anxiety was destined to be.

To be useful when needed, and to be useless when not.

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