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chezzywezzy · 2 years

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Yandere J.D. & Veronica (2cd Place Prize)

Word count ; 4.1k

*Edited.

*Dedicated to @heywejustheretohavefum! Thanks for being so dedicated and being one of the people that originally got me back into fanfic writing. I'm basing this more off of the movie versions, although I put a little bit of musical Veronica into it :)

Y/n was never the most in-tune with the school drama, but she also wasn’t completely out of loop. She was grateful to be completely average to her classmates. She wasn’t popular, but she also wasn’t bullied. She was completely invisible and she preferred it that way.

That didn’t mean, though, that she hadn’t overheard the fury of the legendary ‘Heathers,’ raging about their recent recruit - Veronica Sawyer - snatching up a boyfriend they didn’t approve of. He was the stereotypical teenage dirtbag as far as Y/n could tell, and the news of the new couple was talked about everywhere.

Y/n tended to stick to the walls and corners of the school, but she’d even seen them a few times. They’d saunter through the halls so very nonchalantly and they seemed happy with one another. They seemed genuinely cool. Y/n had interacted with Veronica only once for a group project, and she knew that Veronica was smart and kind.

They made a nice couple.

So, why was Y/n hyper focusing so much? Was she only seeing things? It didn’t make sense.

Whenever she picked up her books from her locker and shut it quietly, she’d turn to see Jason Dean, or “J.D.” as he was referred to as, with his arm around his girlfriend as they chatted. And yet, both of their eyes would be glued to her figure. It made her jump the first time and she scrambled off the class, but now, it was expected.

It baffled Y/n to no end. But it didn’t end there.

She’d be sitting in her class, acutely paying attention, whether to be a good student or to stock up on notes for a distant but upcoming test to cram. And yet, shivers would roll down her spine. Y/n would glance over her shoulder unsurely and seize up instantly.

Sitting in the back of the classroom would be Jason or Veronica or both. At first, Y/n was sure they were looking past her, but they made eye contact. Y/n would then look away, heart accelerating with anxiety. It was because of this hobby the couple picked up that Y/n realized she shared all of her classes with at least one of them.

Jason would always be leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, with a foot on his desk. His other would be tapping against the floor absent-mindedly. He always wore the same outfit. A trench coat, black jeans, and a teeshirt. He’d always have a smug, knowing smirk on his lips. Veronica, on the other hand, was preen and pristine. She sat up, paying attention to keep her legs shut due to the cultish blue skirt she wore. She’d have her head in hand, drumming her pencil against her notebook. And she’d be looking directly at me, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

It was odd. They had no reason to eye her constantly like that. Y/n was most certain they were staring right at her. She had no idea as to why, per se, and the idea that they were fascinated with someone they barely knew was insane, but she was sure none the less.

So, she sauntered into school on a random winter day. It was just entering January. The school was dismal, especially with the suicides that had sat and simmered like a pot. Everyone was watching, waiting, for another domino to fall. The most recent had been Kurt and Ram - two men she’d heard nothing but horror stories about.

It didn’t concern her whatsoever, though. She went to her locker and opened it, dropping in what excess materials she had. She swapped it out for what was needed, just like normal. She yawned, tired after a night filled with god-knows-what activities. All she knew was that Martha Dumptruck came over for a movie marathon, but that she passed out earlier than anticipated and it left no such memory of the event.

Life was normal.

But all that changed when she closed the locker door. She gasped, almost dropping her books. Her pen slipped from her grasp, but flawlessly, the man before her caught it. Right behind the door was Jason Dean, having leaned on his side against the locker. Attached at the hip with her arm interlocked with his was Veronica Sawyer, a polite smile playing at her lips.

Jason, a cigarette popping from between his lips, held the pen out to me. “I think you dropped this.”

Y/n gulped and furrowed her brows. Sure, they seemed cool, but she’d seen what Jason did when he or his girlfriend didn’t like someone. He beat them to a bloody pulp. And the stare they were giving her… it was far too intense. Uncanny. Frightening.

“Uh, thanks,” she managed. She paused after taking it, expecting one of the two to say something. But they didn’t. They just stared expectantly. “U - uh, I need to get to class. Sorry —“

“Class doesn’t start for another five minutes, darling,” Jason continued.

Veronica clicked her tongue. “Um, sorry, Y/n. We didn’t want to keep you waiting. We actually wanted to invite you over for a study sesh’ after school.”

They still stared so intently. Smiles were on their lips, but they were so creepy. Y/n knew her answer almost immediately, shaking her head profusely. “I - I’m sorry. I actually have plans with my friend after school.”

“Martha?” Veronica prodded gently her smile only widening in anticipation.

“Y - yeah.”

Jason sighed, picking the cigarette up between two fingers. He blew out some of the smoke. Veronica took it from him and took a breath of it. Jason pursed his lips before chuckling lowly. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear the news. It was on the morning station, you know. And wasn’t she with you last night?”

Y/n’s blood ran cold and she took a step back. Her heart was racing anxiously. “U - um, I’m sorry. What happened?”

“I mean, I’m not sure how you made plans with a dead girl,” Jason sneered almost venomously. “She killed herself last night. Walked home from your house, went to her room, and hung herself in her closet.”

“Jason!” Veronica scolded, almost playfully, nudging him. “I’m sorry you had to hear it from us, Y/n. Everyone found out this morning except you, I guess.”

Y/n’s face fell. It hurt that Martha fell in tow with the rest of those popular idiots. She shouldn’t have. Yes, she was bullied, but she had family and friends who loved her. She had a future. And it would be silly not to admit that she didn’t have a slight crush on the woman. It was genuinely heartbreaking and Y/n could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.

“Uh, anyways,” Jason chimed,” you’re free after school, so… you’ll be comin’ with us up to Veronica’s place after school.”

“We’re looking forward to it, Y/n!” Veronica chirped, sending a beaming smile her way.

She didn’t even get the chance to tell them no or call them assholes for being so insensitive about her friend’s death by the time they walked off. Martha was Veronica’s friend too, once upon a time. But clearly, the popularity got to her head and induced the same brain rot it did everyone else.

Today wasn’t off to a normal start. Y/n knew that much. In fact, it was off to an awful start.

The day passed. She felt their eyes crawling over her form from the back of the classroom, just like always. But, this time, it irked her to no end. She couldn’t tell if she was more angry than afraid, but either way, the only impressions she held of the couple were negative.

The moment the final bell rang, she darted out of her seat and began collecting her belongings. Y/n didn’t like that Jason and Veronica were both in her final class. It scared her to no end, and she wanted to get out as quick as possibly.

With her books tucked under her armpit, she made a mad dash toward the doorway. A few people thought it was odd, but she was grateful for the head start. She heard a few gasps and grunts, and Y/n connected the dots. The pair was hot on her trail. But there wasn’t anything they logically could do to convince her to go with her. Following her like a lost puppy would only aggravate, not persuade.

She went to her locker. She felt oddly terrified. Maybe it was because - one of them, at least - was popular and the other was batshit scary if you got on their bad side. But Y/n knew they’d been eyeing her for months. She always dreamt of having the confidence to saunter right up to them and ask what their problem was, but she never had.

She was in a rush as she shoved the necessary items into her backpack. She was almost hyperventilating, so very confused and worried. They didn’t seem upset with her in any way. But they also had no reason to give a shit about little ol’ Y/n L/n.

She slammed it shut. She was surprised to see that Jason Dean and Veronica Sawyer were nowhere in the vicinity, or so she could presume. But that worried her. They were obviously hot on her trail the moment she dashed out the classroom door.

She gulped and started down the hallways. She walked quickly, but the hallways were crowded. Everyone was heading out the front door, and she ended up amidst the crowd. Her heart pounded eerily within her chest, already on edge. She hated it further when all sorts of strangers were brushing against her shoulder and knocking into her.

She emerged from the entrance and spotted her bike. She turned left and headed toward her bike. She had never been more relieved to have sat on the seat and pulled out of the metal bike-holder. She didn’t even bother plopping her backpack in the basket in front of her.

“Woah! Watch it there.”

Y/n gasped and swerved. She thought she accidentally backed into a stranger, but she was more than unhappy to find out that it was Jason and Veronica. They both looked so friendly, and yet, there was something menacing about Jason as he planted his hand onto Y/n’s shoulder. Veronica circled and grabbed the handle tightly, although she maintained a chill and polite smile.

Both members of the party beamed at her and Y/n gulped. She was tempted to just peddle away, but she didn’t want to upset them. She could tell from their eyes that they were daring her to try and get away. And Y/n was petrified from head to toe.

“Did you forget? You’re coming over to study at my place,” Veronica chirped robotically, voice dripping with venom. “We can just put your bike on the back of my car, so don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, come on, darlin’,” Jason agreed, grinning ear to ear mischievously. “It’s not like you were trying to make a run for it or anything, right? That’s now way to treat your friends.”

Y/n gulped and blinked. “U - uh, sorry, but I don’t really know either of you, so…”

“That’s hardly a way to look at it,” Jason argued.

Veronica agreed immediately,” This is the chance to get to know us.”

She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip. She was trembling head to toe, and it was clear that as Jason gripped her backpack tightly and Veronica stomped her foot on the bike’s front wheel, they noticed. Y/n’s grip on the handle bars tightened, painfully so.

“W - well, maybe some other time, but…”

“But what, Y/n?” Jason growled, although he maintained a cheerful, charming smile as he leered over the woman. Veronica leaned closer, too, her pedicured hand sliding over one of her own. “What, don’t tell me you just don’t want to hang out with us?”

“I - I just really want to be left alone, please,” she tittered, unable to meet either of their gazes. “I haven’t done anything to e - either of you, so I’m not sure why you’re doing this!”

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong, darling.”

“Maybe if you came over,” Veronica insisted,” you wouldn’t be so scared of us, huh? We’re friends, remember? We worked on an assignment together and everything.”

“I’ve heard it’s fairly unhealthy to, uh, spend too much time alone, you know.”

Y/n couldn’t bare it anymore. Tears threatened to fall because, no matter how nee they acted, they were scary. And, despite how tightly both people were grasping onto her bike, she dug her heel into the ground and scooted her bike away and into the road.

A car honked loudly, but she ignored it. Instead, she was almost petrified by the glares she received from the couple. They didn’t move to follow, and Y/n didn’t want to find out what they planned to do to her. She sped off at top speed, not looking back.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled up to her driveway. It was a quaint middle-class home. Only one of her parents was home, her father, since her mother was a working business woman who was busy most of the time. She had a nice family, though. Everything was normal. And that meant it was completely and utterly normal.

At least for a weekend, Y/n didn’t have to worry about the hell that would follow her come next Monday.

She did her usual, distressing from her average at-home activities. She greeted her father, did her homework and studied, had some of her dad’s delicious food, and settled in her room again to watch the telly in her room until she passed out on her bed for the night. A horror movie was playing since every other channel was focused on her friend’s suicide, and Y/n preferred anything to recalling what happened to her best friend.

And things went as planned. Half-way through the movie, as things were just starting to pick up, she drifted to sleep surrounded by her plush pillows and fluffy stuffed animals. It was a cold winter night, so she gratefully cuddled the night away.

Or, at least, that’s what she planned to do, until she was rudely awakened by a high-pitched, terrified scream.

Y/n shot up, sweating profusely. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. However, as her eyes flitted around her dimly lit bedroom, her eyes landed on the small television. Laurie had just been jump-scared by Michael Meyers and nothing more. The girl instantly deflated back into her mattress, letting out a sigh.

She wasn’t sure why she was so on edge. Jason and Veronica were frightening, but they were nothing but moody teenagers that got a kick out of scaring their peers. They weren’t stalkers or murderers or anything worse. They were just high-schoolers.

Y/n couldn’t get back to sleep, though. Her mouth was dry and her dad constantly scolded her for not brushing her teeth until the middle of the night. And it was about to be midnight, but not quite, so Y/n could easily avoid a light scolding if she just did it now.

She kicked off her blanket, her soft feet padding against the wooden floors. She heard the television running downstairs in the living room, which confused her. Usually, mom got home at nine, and her parents were all over each other for the remainder of the evening because they had a healthy marriage. And that always meant the television was off.

She shrugged it off, though, going to the bathroom. She heard distant chatter rom downstairs, but it was indistinct. Y/n ignored it, finishing her night routine. She went to open the bathroom door, but her hand paused on the doorknob.

Creak. Creak.

Someone was walking up the stairs. And perhaps it was paranoid of her, but she was frightened. She didn’t identify as it her dad’s loud, boisterous footsteps that echoed through the house. Just as she didn’t identify it as her mom’s quiet, thoughtful, but tired pitter patters around the house.

Y/n flicked off the bathroom door. The hallway light was flickered on. And then, her bedroom door was pushed open just enough. She was so very startled and confused. She heard two pairs of footsteps. Were they robbers? Murderers?

Because Y/n knew with certainty that they weren’t her parents.

“Fuck!” a familiar voice boomed. “Where the hell is she?”

“Jesus, J.D.,” another voice grumbled. “She’s gotta be around here somewhere. She probably doesn’t even know we’re here.”

Her blood ran cold. She was in the bathroom. The one place where there’d be hardly any weapons. She’d written the couple off as completely innocent high-schoolers with big heads. And yet, her mind began to race with theories. Maybe her parents just went out.

Or, perhaps, they were cold and dead on the sofa, and the couple was just as responsible for the coincidental suicides that had been happening.

Martha’s death seemed so convenient for them, after all.

Tears fell and Y/n reached around the bathroom aimlessly until her hands found the plunger. She pulled it out, just as the bathroom doorknob was jostled and swung open. A scream escaped her lips and she swung the plunger at the criminals, pushing herself up next to the toilet. She was trembling head to toe and a part of her died as she saw the couple nonchalantly staring her down.

“There you are,” Veronica exclaimed. “Uh, you do realize a plunger’s not going to do much against a gun, right?”

“Not that we were planning to kill you, darling,” Jason added in coyly, flicking on the switch,” but it would be a shame if we had to be a bit more hands-on, huh?”

Shivers rolled down her spine and she gritted her teeth. “Wh - what did you do to my mom and dad? Why are you doing this?” she cried fearfully.

Jason clicked his tongue, his stoic, calm posture not melting on the spot like Veronica did. Her eyes softened and she tucked her gun into her back pocket. She shook her head and sighed. “It’s okay, Y/n. We’re not here to hurt you. That wasn’t what we were doing in the first place. Come here.”

Jason grinned, adding,” You’re just too stubborn. And, uh, as patient as this little lady is, I’m not. You weren’t being the most receptive earlier, so…”

Y/n gulped, taking a step closer ever so slightly. The couple exchanged excited glances as Y/n indeed forward ever so slightly, although she still gripped the plunger tightly. Veronica held her arms open to the woman and beckoned her to come closer in for a hug. That really was the only option, seeing as they took up the entire doorway.

Jason cocked the gun menacingly, leaning against the doorway, making Y/n free fearfully in her place. “J.D.!” Veronica scolded angrily. “Jesus Christ, you can put the gun away. Stop acting like we’re gonna kill her.”

“A - aren’t you?”

The way Veronica spoke to Jason differentiated in comparison to Y/n. And the way Jason looked at Y/n wasn’t the same as when he looked at Veronica. Over the past few months, as quickly as Veronica fell into the relationship, it was clear that she did it for the shits and giggles until it became serious with all the murders they committed. And J.D. did, too, sensing that Veronica didn’t quite swing that way. They used the relationship primarily for cover as both of them fell head over heels for the Westerburg High nobody and came to an agreement to win her over whether she liked it or not.

Both of their morals were fucked up, and they knew it. But they couldn’t give any shits.

Both of their shoulders slouched as they melted. Y/n’s voice was so meek, so unsure. She’d stopped progressing, and the grip on her plunger grew tighter, even if it would do nothing agains the couple that were fully armed and had each other’s backs.

Jason sighed and shoved his gun into his back pocket. “You’re a little dense, darling. You seriously need an explanation? We like you, idiot.”

Y/n deadpanned completely. All of those deadbeat stare, fleeting glances, threatening stances… that indicated a crush? What kind of crush was that? It was obvious they were both psychos, even when Veronica had the gall to add,” Well, I’m pretty sure I’m, like, in love with you, but whatever…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve known her longer, I got it. Geez. Stop acting like that makes you superior, Veronica.”

The two were about to engage in a couple’s spat but Veronica shushed the man furiously. She once again beckoned Y/n in for a hug while Jason started searching through his trench coat. Y/n was on the verge of a mental breakdown because she was terrified to her core.

“Come on, Y/n, don’t be a stranger!” Veronica insisted, feigning friendliness. “That plunger’s not going to do much, you know. It’s much better if you come willingly.”

“Mhm. I mean, Veronica and I put in so much work to winning you over. It’s a shame we had to turn to plan B. The place we got set up, uh… it’s not as spacious and comfy as it’s supposed to be. Yet.”

Y/n was but a foot away. Veronica gasped out of joy about to pull the woman into her arms, but Y/n suddenly pulled the plunger out from behind her and pushed it into Veronica’s stomach. She was caught off guard and reached to grab it. J.D. cursed loudly and accidentally dropped the chloroform-soaked cloth to the ground in attempt to snatch the woman.

“Fuck…!” Jason boomed, his entire composition differently. “You little bitch!”

“J.D.!” Veronica shrieked as Y/n pushed her to the ground in attempt to escape.

“I got her, I got her!”

Just as Jason went to grab her, Y/n jabbed the plunger at him. J.D. grabbed it angrily, only to realize he was focusing on the wrong thing. He tore it from Y/n’s grasp, catching the woman off-guard just enough to give Veronica the chance to grab her ankle.

Everything was going wrong, and quickly so. Y/n stumbled at the sudden weight on her ankles. She was at the foot of the stairs, and as she suddenly fell, she grasped the rail. Veronica released a screeching “shit!” at the predicament. Y/n’s head hurt incredible when her head collided with the wall and she relinquished her hold on the rail.

If not for J.D., who swept in for the grab, she would’ve gone sliding down on her stomach. Y/n screamed again as her head collided with the edge of a step. Her eyesight began to flicker with stars and darkness. Jason grunted, pulling her onto the flat second floor landing by her feet.

Meanwhile, Veronica scrambled to readjust her blue skirt and grabbed the cloth. She was panicked and aggravated, while J.D. was aggravated and calm. They knew the ring-around by now; this was supposed to be easy. They weren’t even supposed to stoop this low to begin with.

“Fucking do it, Veronica!” Jason ordered.

Y/n tried to kick free, but J.D. held her down. Veronica straddled her waist and pushed the cloth onto her mouth. Y/n still struggled, but was already so tired to begin with. Her energy was draining, and fast. Both of the psychos were trying so desperately - Veronica more so - to ease her into it. To tell her to give into it. That things would be fine.

And then, she caved. The numbness consumed her and her body went limp.

J.D., out of pure joy, placed a chaste and quick kiss on Veronica’s cheek. Veronica gasped happily. The pair exchanged knowing glances.

That Y/n was finally their’s.

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deeplyshalllow · 1 month

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So according to Google this is the first Friday after spring break in Ohio which means it is time for the most important annual event that I thought of six months ago:

Heathers (the movie*) Daily!!!

Each day in the next two weeks I will watch along with Veronica as she dates a young Christian Slater and then commits triple homicide.

Come join me!

Which bits of the movie to watch on each day:

22nd March - Beginning of movie to “But before that, I'd like to see Heather chandler puke her guts out.”

23rd March - From “Trust me, she skips the Saturday morning trip to Grandma's, even when she's not hungover” to “have you done this before?”

24th March - Nothing

25th March - From “Any other principal'd take the same position. Keep things business as usual.” to “Our love is God, let’s go get a slushy.”

26th March - From “I'm not belittling the foodless fund, Peter, it's just that we're talking teenage suicide here.” to “Oh you’re so smart”

27th March - From Veronica tucking her gun into her skirt to “Are we going to prom or hell?”

28th March - From “Now. It seems we were in a similar position on monday, when I thoughtfully suggested we'd get everybody together for an unadultarated emotional outpour.” to “on friday Pauline can hold her little "love-in", or whatever.” (today is literally just the teacher’s meeting, it’s so short)

29th March - From Ms Fleming gathering them for assembly to “You’ll be back.”

30th March - nothing

31st March - nothing

1st April - From “Me and Martha Dumptruck? Where did you get this?” to “Betty, leaving so soon? I'm red.”

2nd April - From Martha spilling her drink on herself to the end of Heather’s call to the radio

3rd April - From “Heather told everyone about Heather” to Heather Duke giving JD Moby Dick

4th April - From Heather showing Ronnie the petition to JD building the bomb in his room

5th April - From JD and Veronica arriving at school to the end of the movie

* Heathers the musical daily is of course also an important international event that I thought of six months ago, but that takes place over September/October time

#heathers #heathers the movie #winona ryder #Christian Slater #Veronica Sawyer #Jason Dean #heathers daily

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dozing-marshmallow · 8 months

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If requests are open... Chris and reader watching Heathers the original release together?

Ooo! I haven’t actually watched it until today, and it was worth the watch! I hope you have a good time reading this as I did watching the film! This took me the entire day to write since there was so many good scenes to choose from.🥲

Spoiler warning to those who haven’t seen it!

WATCHING HEATHERS: ORIGINAL RELEASE WITH CHRIS MCLEAN

“Yo Chris.” You approached him one evening,“You wanna watch a fun nostalgic movie that involves childhood trauma as a plot point, the idiocy of teenagers in love and girl power?”

“As innnn?”

“Heathers!”

He recognised the film, but his response didn’t demonstrate that,“You know I can never see that name the same way after meeting Heather.”

You knew it wouldn’t,“I don’t think anyone can, but lucky for us, this film isn’t about her.”

“Of course it isn’t, no one with a brain would centre a movie around something like her.”

“Chriiiis.” You pout, setting the disc into the DVD player. You weren’t on tv so there was no need for him to be so destructive.

“What? Can’t I tell the truth?” He asks in a sassy manner,“Producers don’t want someone controversial leading their movie, the public would tear it down before it’s even released! Then again, it is a good way to ensure people will watch, even if it’s not for the reason they were hoping for.”

The film opens with a blonde girl tying her hair back in a red scrunchie with a feminine song elegantly lacing the girls’ beauty and image. The clothes, the hair, the camera quality pull Chris in to reminisce.

“I remember those times! All the gals loved keeping their hair fluffy and in scrunchies!” A shot of the girls stepping on the flowers brings him to ponder,“Can’t remember if they loved mallets though.”

“I thought they would have the colour coded everything.”

“What do you mean?”

You explained,“As in, they were gonna wear the same thing just in their colour, and have their hairstyles identical too.”

“Ohh, yeah, I think that was in the musical.” He recalled,“Speaking of which, if I end up liking this movie, we’ll totally go watch that too.”

Hearing that potential chance to see it made your heart skip a beat, disguising it with,“It’s crazy coincidence that all three of these girls happened to be named Heather.”

“I for one hope they end up like Heather.” So in other words, he wanted them to suffer tremendously.

You’re introduced to the sore thumb protagonist, Veronica, who was being ordered by red Heather to forge hot and horny, but realistically low-key note Kurt’s handwriting and we’ll slip it onto Martha Dumptruck’s lunch tray. The note will give her shower nozzle masturbation material for weeks.

Chris’ eyes ran corner to corner,“How did she say that with a straight face?”

“Welll it’s clearly not their first ploy, and you’ll be surprised to know that’s how teenage girls talk.”

“I have experience, (Y/N).”

The camera pans on an unconventionally attractive girl in sweatpants and a pink hoodie getting her lunch tray. Must’ve been the Martha the girls were planning on upsetting.

“Beth? I didn’t know she was in this film.” Chris chirped.

Your mouth drops at his attempt to slander another one of his contestants,“Chris, you know that’s not Beth! Beth has longer hair and she wears glasses!”

“Scissors and contacts exist, (Y/N).” He pats your back, treating you like a simpleton,“Wouldn’t be surprised if she did them herself for the film.”

Heather pulled Veronica with her on a poll protocol, featuring a question about five million dollars given two days before an alien explosion. She began the poll by a table with a girl named Courtney sitting there.

“Oh, great.” Chris groans,“It’s already a nightmare that three girls are named Heather, now there’s someone called Courtney? Who’s next, Harold?”

“Huh? Chris, Harold is a complete anomaly with Heather and Courtney. I thought you were going to say someone like Tyler.”

“My badd.”

There was a montage of teens from different cliques having individual screen time to answer Heather number one’s question.

“This scene has to mean something, right? I am betting you a hundred bucks that these question protocols are some sort of motif and have a deeper meaning.” Chris confidentially proposes.

“Alright.” It was pointless, but whatever made him happy.

“Uh.” He pauses the movie,“You’re supposed to hedge now.”

“What?”

“Y’know, if I end up being right, you give me a hundred dollars instead.”

What is this man on,“No? If you end up being right, you get to keep your hundred bucks.”

“But whyy? Come on (Y/NN)...it’ll be fun! Live a little.” He rested his head on your shoulder. If that was meant to convince you, it backfired.

“I’m good.”

“Booo! You’re boring! Bo-ring!”

“Chris, a hundred dollars doesn’t even equate to a dollar in your eyes, why are you so bothered?”

The movie focuses on Martha again, clearly in a trance from the letter she was misled into believing was written by her presumed crush. Chris waved at the screen,“Hi Beth!” As music in the background played, with the enhancement of a woman breathing like she was having an orgasm.

You pre-flinched at the motion of Martha getting up and appearing to be walking over to the Jock table, forged letter in hand, anticipating the next few seconds to be nothing, but ripping insults and a confused girl with her heart broken, returning sulkily to her table in confusion and tears. Meanwhile, Chris was sitting up in his seat, smiling.

And your guess was correct: the second that guy, Kurt saw the letter, the dreamy music was replaced by a jagged cruelty of laughter escaping him as he passed the letter to his mate, where he also started laughing. The Heathers were gracefully infected by it too and so was Chris. Feeling humiliated, Martha stomps out of the cafeteria.

“Oh dear. Poor girl.” You verbalise your pity, leaning more towards Veronica’s reaction.

“She’ll be fine.” Chris coughs,“As far as Beth knows, he’s just trying to deny how much he loves her.”

You don’t try scolding him anymore,“Let’s hope she doesn’t turn out to be a yandere.”

“A what now?”

The guy you and Chris questioned the relevance of was revealed to be named Jason Dean. You didn’t pay attention to the problem those jocks had with him, but you couldn’t connect the reason to the utterly random choice on Jason’s part to take a gun out and fire it. Twice.

“What the hell!” You exclaimed.

“What’s the big deal? I do that all the time.” Your boyfriend shrugs lightly.

“Not funny.”

It transitions back to the scenery the Heathers were in the beginning, with their mallets, their balls, the grass and statues.

“God they won’t expel him, they’ll just suspend him for a week or something.” The one in yellow claimed.

“He used a real gun. They should throw his ass in jail.” The leader Heather levelled more logically.

“So it actually happened?” You thought aloud, seeing that Veronica was now not only on the same ground as the others; she possessed her own mallet in blue,“In the beginning, I thought this was place was meant to be a metaphor.”

“A metaphor for what, (Y/N)?”

“...Sisterhood?”

He shakes his head in disapproval.

No way, they were actually plotting on killing Heather Chandler- After the disastrous party at Remington university where Veronica blows it and potentially foreshadows the bad dust forming between her and the rest of the Heathers, Jason crawls in through her window and stayed the night with her, topless. In the morning, they mixed something together with cleaning liquid and orange juice to bring for Heather, Jason’s “family recipe” for her hangover.

After indirect peer pressure, Heather takes the cup from Jason and right after consuming it, the damage instantly kicks in. To Heather’s horror, her gagging became more and more tyrannical to the point of her clasping her hands around her neck and gluing her eyes shut. She wheezes out an incoherent statement, before she falls face first unexpectedly into her glass table, motionless pink robed body landing on a bed of broken glass shards and her flowers, magazines.

Where that scene was meant to be silent, Chris revived an equal reaction of Kurt’s in the beginning- Hilarity.

You were still processing it. You didn’t think they would kill the leader off so early. You thought it would be one of those things where the protagonist would have started off with the lower ranks, saving the leader for last. Not in this story.

“Ahahaha!” In your partner’s fit, he shakily grabs the remote,“I’ve...I’ve got to see it again!”

He rewinded it a few seconds back. Since he knew what was going to happen, his relentless laughter ran in prematurely and lasted longer.

“Chris, come on.”

“One more- one more time.” He repeated, readying to hold onto his stomach again.

You rewatch Heather fall into the glass table. How did he not get bored?

He rewinded it again.

That’s where your patience ran too,“Enough, Chris!” You asserted, trying to grab the remote from him.

He still had that large smile on his face as he holds it away from you,“Wait (Y/N), maybe she won’t fall down this time.” You both know that’s not possible, as she disproves his statement for the fourth time,“Nope!”

“Can we move on now please?” You screech.

“Augh, fine! Let’s have it your way then.” He throws the remote to the floor and latches his arms folding,“Remind me to never watch anything with you again.”

“I won’t.”

“Uh uh...” Chris chuckled, watching the note Veronica forged as Heather’s suicide note be present in the teacher’s hand to be shared around the class so they can “feel its pathetic beauty for yourself”.

“Isn’t that like...a major piece of evidence at the crime scene though? How did she get a hold of it?” You were thinking too deeply about it.

“I don’t know dude, but it seems that no one really liked Heather to take her death personally.” His enthusiasm profound,“Isn’t that similar to the situation for our Heather? Chick was so despicable, her own parents wanted her gone!”

“Do you see how everyone else is dressed in black and she came in navy?” You pointed out Veronica’s standing out funeral attire.

“I’d have done the same.” Chris retorted,“You won’t get a dime of respect from me.”

You scoffed at the prayers Heather’s guests made over her death bed, most of them not even being about her,“The amount of disrespect at her own funeral.”

“Could never be me. The world would die with me.” Of course Chris needed a time of the movie to stroke his ego.

Two days after an atrocious “double date”, Kurt and Ram were coming to school early for some promised fun with Veronica; in reality, they were going to mask a double suicide. They? Why, yes! Jason was waiting behind a tree, with his gun loaded and the two notes Veronica forged the night before, confessing their dying sorrow of the love they felt for each other, that could never be revealed to an uncaring and ununderstanding world.

“Hi Veronica.” Speaking of the devils, they had smugly arrived to the told meeting spot, behind the school.

Chris rubs his hands together deviously, the performing girl requesting them to strip,“Ooo here we go!”

“You do know she’s not actually going to-“

“I know (Y/N), I wasn’t talking about that. I was referring to the part where their bodies fall to the ground helplessly in blood. What kinda sicko do you take me for to think I’d want to see high schoolers have a sword fight with their dicks?” God, he was actually offended.

“Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“I was kind of hoping you could rip my clothes off me sport.” Veronica flirtatiously played.

“Girl’s got serious game!”

“She’d have to, to be able to fool those guys.”

Baam! After Jason’s chasing steps terrified Kurt to return back to where he once successfully fled from, Veronica finally pulled the trigger to send his nearly naked body falling to the ground. Despite Chris getting what he wanted, he was unamused,“So he had enough sense to run the first time, but was paralysed the second time? Seriously? She didn’t even have the gun ready!”

“One more dead body to add to your collection.” Gruesome words, but it cheered him up.

Unnecessary to inform, but they were real killer bullets used on Kurt and Ram that day. When Veronica wrapped her head around it, Chris made it known that he took much pleasure in her screaming at her boyfriend in his car that she never wanted to kill them, while he was trying to unveil the intention that she did. The start of their crumbling relationship.

You shake your head in disbelief when the movie cut to their funeral and how their corpses wore football helmets.

Who names their child Kurt or Ram...?

“It was chaos, fucking chaos!” Veronica ranted, distressed from the next day event that happened in school. It was bad enough that teacher Pauline was attempting to use the second tragedy that week to liven things up as a positive thing, it was broadcasted.

“What are you talking about, huh? I mean today was great! Chaos is great. Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling.”

“I like him. He gets it!” Chris too acknowledged the similarity he held with the male protagonist.

He started laughing from shock when he blew up his radio with his gun. That was the breaking point for Veronica to furiously get up and declare the end of their relationship.

...You know when you’re uneasy seeing something, but your mind forces you to keep watching to see the end of it? That’s what was happening to Chris when Jason grabbed Veronica back down and tried to convince her to stay by forcefully kissing her.

“Oh jeez...I am highly uncomfortable.” Chris lets out, turning his head away from the screen.

At least Jason could manipulate Heather Duke into taking the place of leader to carry out some petition (which Chris bragged that he knew the poll in the beginning would be significant to the plot) that would need all students to sign. After failing to persuade Veronica though, Heather leaves, not before taking pride in how ruthless she’s become.

“You know, I really love the colour symbolism here. That one started off as jealous of the first Heather’s power, so she wore green, cuz green is like a symbol for envy, and now that she’s embodied Heather Chandler’s position, her change of colour to red symbolises how her character developed for the worst.”

“Good observation.” The closest Chris will get to complimenting you.

Out of nowhere, Jason descends from the stairs, in his signature waistcoat.

“He’s back.”

“Or rather, she’s back.” Chris appropriately clarified as Jason took Veronica into his arms, fooling you into believing they were rejoining as a couple.

“So... Are they back together?” The second Chris asked that, Veronica hastily rejected his embrace and stood her ground otherwise,“Haha, guess not.”

Chris huffed in annoyance when Jason kneeled by Veronica’s bed, with Moby Dick in his hand.

“I’m super confused, do you like this guy or not?” You called out on him, not noticing you were taking some of his annoyance as yours.

“I do! But it’s nagging me that he’s everywhere!”

After snatching the largest kitchen knife you’ve ever seen, Jason sprinted to Heather Duke’s room where said girl was asleep in her bed and locked the door shut to prevent any witnesses (i.e. Veronica) from interrupting his ploy.

“That’s why you don’t leave your bedroom door open at night!” Chris raised his voice at the tv like the characters could hear him.

By this point, the priest is fed up with leading these constant funerals for popular teens. No one was taking it seriously anymore either- Hell, the guests were wearing lab coats and 3D glasses.

“Out of all the death beds, I think I’d rather die in her one.” Chris trivialised her funeral with his liking to her unusual coffin of a replica of green gunk in a bathtub.

Veronica stands at the back of the ceremony, a Heather dressed in all black joins her. It wasn’t until she sneered about the smaller number of people at this Heather’s funeral that you’re alerted it’s the former leader Heather.

“Plot twist!” Chris declares, downing his entire glass of wine.

“No way...” You’re stunned,“Do you think she actually survived or Veronica’s hallucinating?”

“No idea.”

Turns out it was all dream.

“Oh good because she can’t be going to sleep in tights.” All that Chris was concerned about, Veronica writing her last entry.

“She’s dead!?” Chris regurgitated on his popcorn at the sight of Veronica’s body hanging from the ceiling,“Duuuude! I thought she’d have main character armour!”

You yell when Jason theatrically talks like his ex girlfriend could see,“Look at how he’s reacting to it! He’s acting like she’s not dead! Deraaaanged!”

“That’s probably the most relatable scene yet.”

You flip your head to him,“Sorry?”

“Ohhh listen listen, he’s going to take right after his old man!” Someone regained their composure,”Blowing up the school. Respect. Only so little of us could pull that off.”

“No, what did you say just then?” You probed him, refusing to let him off the hook so easily.

“Huh? That Veronica’s dead?”

“After that.”

“...He’s going to blow up the school?” You can’t tell if Chris genuinely forgot or was playing dumb, but never mind, you lost motivation to interrogate further. Attention is his life source.

Jason reads and reveals,“We students of Westerberg High will die today, our burning bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us.”

“So the entire time, they were signing up to die?”

“Sound familiar?”

“You’re kidding. So he went through the difficulty of planting the bombs in the boiler room, just to blow himself up outside the school?”

He’ll finally be with mommy. Chris’ whining disappointment didn’t stop an ashy, bleeding, wild haired Veronica(who by the miracle of God didn’t actually die that scene) to go back inside, like she didn’t witness her crazy ex kill himself moments ago. She stumbles upon Martha, in a wheelchair and as the rest of the school leaves, the both of them decide to stay together, inside, smiling, marking an implication that they may bloom into something tender.

What a bittersweet hour and forty three minutes.

“Oh! That’s it. Well... That was dark.” Chris firstly begins his thoughts by underlining the conspicuous theme of the movie,“No joke, it was really messed up. But you know my vibe.” He sniffled, flicking a teardrop from his eye,“I loved it! See, this is a perfect example as to why the eighties were the best! You don’t get a lot of dark colourful movies like these nowadays, everybody’s so boring and sensitive and unoriginal.”

You added onto that, from another aspect,“I think we were desensitised to a lot of things that happened though. Still can’t get over how Veronica’s mom thought she’d off herself because she couldn’t get some job at the mall.”

He sighs,“What can I say? We were bound to see it one way or another. A fine film that shows a stupid world that’s still accurate today.” That pessimism didn’t go well with Chris gaining satisfaction from stretching his stiff arms out,“Overall, it was sick! Ten outta ten, would watch again. It just feels a tad bit weird watching it all happen as a grown man. I would literally close my eyes at some points, and every time, I would be confused if it was still the movie playing, or if you switched it to Total Drama.”

On the topic of his show...“When you think about it, Jason is the alternative Trent and Veronica is the alternative Gwen.”

Lightbulb moment. Uh oh.

(Sorry if it feels incomplete, there was a lot of things I had to take out to avoid it being too lengthy 😞 If anyone’s interested, though, I’ll publish some of the things that didn’t make the final post, but would have been great to have :))

#td chris #request #chris mclean #chris mclean x reader #total drama chris mclean #tdi x reader #heathers 1988 #heathers #td chris mclean x reader #total drama island chris #total drama

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pepper-steam-milkshake · 5 months

Text

a big little post

heya!

six months. jesus, that's a while. at least, a while to not have lost focus. and i'm still kicking! sooo~, as a little thanks for sticking around with my silly little story, there's a few things i want to share! :3

1) splinters of madness is not just one story :3c

if you've been paying attention recently, you may have noticed a slight change on ao3 where i added splinters to a series. that's because there's a lot more stories i want to tell that both add and contrast to what's going on in the main story. for example, a little more backstory on fyodor and nikolai's friendship (or complication, depending on how you want to look at it), a darkest timeline two-shot, and nikolai's play rehearsals! perhaps, we can get to know chuuya's brother a little better before he passes from his point of view!

these are definitely not all of the additional content im planning, but it's some that you can look forward to!

2) things that were supposed to happen... and then, uh, didn't

i tend to complain quite a bit about things going awry when im writing splinters (well, not complain, but ykw i mean), and there's a few things that just, was planned and then the characters went "lmao, fuck you". so! here's a few of them!

chapter 5

nikolai hairflip

mori appearance -> appeared in the following chapter instead

"That's the chibi I know!" -> yeah no. nope im okay with this not making it in

atsushi getting his book back. rip

chapter 6

dazai was in fact supposed to go to the corn maze with fyolai and sigma, but for a variety of reasons, it just didn't happen. unseen and unsaid, sigma also didn't go to the corn maze! you can imagine that nikolai was a lot nicer about it to them than he was to dazai, lmao

sigzai kiss :( womp womp

soukoku making out in the boiler room

the ada at the football game

general

chuuya going to see halloween with dazai

3) and... a preview of chapter 7 :3 formatting's a little fucked, but it's also on ao3!

Veronica. Finally. I got a note of Kurt Kelly’s. I need you to forge a hot and horny but realistically low-key note in Kurt’s handwriting and we’ll slip it into Martha Dumptruck’s lunch tray.

Shit, Heather, I don’t have anything against Martha Dunnstock.

You don’t have anything for her either. Come on, it’ll be very.

- Heather Chandler and Veronica Sawyer

Dazai drags Chuuya into a hug, getting a surprised yelp out of him. “After all, we’re friends, and friends listen to each other.”

Chuuya’s stiff for a few seconds before he melts into the hug, and his arms wrap around Dazai, too.

“Right… friends.”

His fingers stray into Dazai’s hair, his fingers tangling around the locks, and Dazai gives a surprised gasp as Chuuya yanks at it. “But… what if I want to be more than friends?” he whispers into his ear, his breath hot against it.

“Wh-what?”

Dazai shudders and tilts his head up as a wet tongue slides up his neck, finishing its trail with a kiss. “You heard me, Dazai Osamu. What if I want to… date you?”

He can’t help but laugh nervously at that. “D-date me? Chuuya needs higher expectations—”

Chuuya pulls him out of the hug into a dip, Dazai’s hands frantically moving to clutch on for security. Chuuya smirks down at him. “What if I want to make you mine?”

“Chuuya, I—”

“What if I want… to kiss you?”

Dazai gasps, his face red and heated. “Ch-Chuuya…”

Chuuya grins as he lowers closer and closer to Dazai’s lips, his lashes fluttering as his eyes become half-lidded. Dazai feels himself closing his own eyes, his lips pursing for the kiss…

And when his eyes open again, it’s to the ceiling of his room, his sleep mask having slipped off at some point in the night.

“Jesus fucking christ.”

With a grumble, Dazai flips to his side, kicking off the remnants of his blankets—most of them had gotten kicked around anyways during his sleep—and lays there, gazing at his desk, where two books sit. One, of course, is the one he puts most of his deepest thoughts in, sitting opened with the bookmark in, his pen and monocle lying next to it. The other is Atsushi’s weird white novel, which—

“Ah, shit…” he groans, pushing his face into the mattress.

Atsushi was supposed to pick up his book yesterday. But Dazai wasn’t home, because he decided to have the dinner-from-hell with his not-crush and his not-crush’s father. So, Atsushi wasn’t able to get it despite having asked for it.

Am I the worst friend ever or what?

I should go over to my desk and hit my head as hard as I can into the corner.

Fuck!

Dazai slowly slides out of his bed onto the floor, landing on top of various clothes, including… including Kunikida’s green sweatshirt. He awkwardly manipulates it out from underneath him before holding it up above him, sighing as he gazes at it.

“Katai probably would like you now,” he murmurs, running his fingers over the cuffs in circular motions. The fabric feels soft, smooth from age under the pads of his thumbs, and Dazai knows if he smelled it, it would still have that whiff of Kunikida’s cologne and deodorant on it. And the thing is, maybe he should give it to Kunikida. Or give it directly to Katai.

But he doesn’t want to. He “stole” it from Kunikida, therefore, it’s his. And it’s not like Kunikida has asked for it back. Though, perhaps he doesn’t remember that Dazai has it. But that’s not the point.

Yeah, Kunikida’s not getting this back, and Katai isn’t getting it, either. It’s Dazai’s, whether Kunikida knows it or not.

He glances towards his desk once more, trying to ignore thoughts of… unpleasant thoughts—

Hit your head. Impale. Smash it into the corner. Hit it. Hit it. Hit it. Hit it. Hit it. Hit it.

For fuck’s sake.

I want to write.

Hit your head. Hit it. Hit it against the corner. Hit it. Hit it. Hit it.

I want to write.

Kill yourself.

“I am losing my mind.” With a frustrated hiss, Dazai pushes himself to his feet, and tiredly stumbles towards his desk, his hand gripping the corner tightly so he can’t see it anymore. He shoves himself past it, then flops into the seat, picking up the pen, and starting a new entry.

Dear Diary,

October 12, 1989

I sure love thinking about killing myself. It’s my favorite.

Anyways, had a dream about Chuuya. Wonderful. I dreamed that last night, instead of us just saying goodbye, he kissed me.

He stops writing for a second, sighing as he presses his fingers sadly to his lips.

Well, almost. He almost kissed me. He was so fucking close. We almost kissed. But it’s not romantic, of course. I think about kissing my friends all the time.

Hell, I’ve thought about kissing Kunikida. Thinking about Chuuya like this isn’t any different. This isn’t romantic. I am not in denial.

Dazai smacks his head into his diary, groaning. “Fuuuck.”

Not in denial. Nope. Not in denial. I am so not in denial. Why would I be in denial? Boys kissing boys—it doesn’t have to be romantic! No! And it’s not because I think I’m not gay—I am, but not for them! It’s different! It’s totally different!

…I’m going to lose it.

- Dazai

#original post #fic: splinters of madness #happy six months yall! hope you enjoy this silly little post :3

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how-very-salty · 7 months

Text

first of thousands

Jason Dean x Veronica Sawyer

Summary:

Veronica Sawyer is back in Sherwood for college break. She wanted to try to apologize to Martha, but instead she'd gone with the Heathes to Cincinnati for a big party. High speed, drunk driving - and as an inevitable finale, a car accident.

tw: blood and injury, obscene language, drunk driving

AU, in which she and J.D. did not date in high school and no one was murdered, but she stayed with the Heathers.

The car sped down the empty night highway. Ronnie leaned out of the window and put her face in the cold wind. Her cheeks burned with laughter and alcohol, and she was dizzy from the overflowing fun with a touch of guilt.

Conscience, usually muted in the din of the big city, was so loud and clear here in Sherwood. This damn town had a mystical ability to bring out the worst parts of her soul; the parts she'd known for a long time and the parts she'd never even suspected. Here, all her illusions about whether she had ever been a good person had long since been shattered.

No, she wasn't.

Veronica had tried to fix it, of course, but it just didn't work out right. She was supposed to meet Martha tonight in another attempt to repair an old friendship; an absurd and preemptively failed attempt. She couldn't think of anything to say when they met, so she'd made up an excuse about having a headache, canceled the meeting, and gone with Heather to a big party in Cincinnati. It hadn't made her feel any better, but the drunken fog in her head had dulled the guilt for a while. Only it would come back tomorrow with more force... Maybe she should have changed the tickets and left early. Coming back was a damn bad idea.

Veronica felt violently dizzy. She took a deep breath of cold air into her chest, waited out the nausea, and got back in the car.

"I'm so sick," she mumbled, falling back into the passenger seat. "Shit. Does anyone else have any more drinks?"

"I think you've had enough," Duke's angry voice came from behind her; alcohol always made her grumpy, "and so has everyone else... Chandler, please keep your eyes on the road! And stop driving so fast!"

"Pfft, don't listen to that boring ass, the road is completely empty," Mac chuckled and held out an almost full bottle of gin to Veronica. "Here. There's really only this shit left..."

"It's not shit, it's forty bucks a bottle," she rolled her eyes, took a big gulp, and immediately wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I take that back, jeez... I'm really going to throw up."

"Not in my car!" Duke lunged forward, trying to snatch the bottle out of her hands.

"Afraid of the competition?" Veronica dodged easily, putting two fingers to her mouth defiantly.

"No, that her parents will smell vomit in the jeep and shove her back into rehab," Chandler grinned approvingly and, slowing down slightly, turned onto a forest road; there was much less chance of getting caught by the highway patrol. She turned and gave Duke a mocking look. "You still haven't lost six pounds since last time, have you? Look, you're about to grow a Dumptruck patch."

"God, Heather, grow up," Ronnie rolled her eyes irritably as she took another drink; at the same second, she was blinded by a bright light. Her heart froze for a moment and then pounded frantically in her ears, a choked scream coming from her lips. Chandler frantically slammed on the brakes, but it was too late: there was a muffled thud, followed by an horrific metallic scraping....

Veronica was jolted forward, the world flashing red before her eyes.

The airbags belatedly deployed with a loud pop.

Veronica straightened up in the chair, her arms holding up her head, buzzing from the impact. Her consciousness returned slowly, in fragments. She tried to remember what had happened: it seemed they had hit something... maybe a deer? Her temples tightened with pain. An unpleasant squeaking sound filled her ears, and something hot and sticky dripped slowly down her cheek.

She turned to the driver's seat: Chandler wasn't there. The door on her side was open, a familiar shrill voice came faintly from the street through the noise in her ears. So she's okay... With a sigh of relief, Veronica looked out the window and immediately closed her eyes with her hand: the headlights were too bright and it was hard to see. Blinking at the growing pain in her temples, she looked around to check on the others. Mac was sobbing bitterly in the back seat, bent over her knees; the door on Duke's side was wide open.

"What the hell happened?" asked Veronica hoarsely, wiping the blood from her forehead with her sleeve.

"You're alive!" Mac lifted her head and smiled happily. "Thank God you're alive! You just didn't move, and I... I thought you were dead too," she stammered, the smile wiped from her face. "Ronnie, I don't know what's going to happen now, I mean, we're all drunk as a skunk... I don't have any idea what kind of price we'll have to pay to get out of this one! And my dad's deal just fell through and... Oh my God, he's going to kill me!"

Veronica picked out the main point of her rambling speech:

"What do you mean… ‘too’?" she asked in a weak voice. The annoying beeping sound in her ears became more intense. Without waiting for an answer, she quickly jerked the door handle and jumped out of the car. She could hear Chandler's voice, but Dukes's...

"Oh, come on! Get back in the car," Chandler snorted angrily, hovering over the girl who was bent over the bushes, "I thought you got rid of that habit of vomiting all the time."

Veronica stopped and leaned exhausted against the cold side of the car, breathing a sigh of relief: they're all alive. What a miracle that everyone is alive... The adrenaline had worn off and a wild tiredness pressed down on her shoulders.

"We killed him! Don't you care?!" Duke stood up and wiped her mouth with her hand, glaring at Heather.

"Of course I do! We could get caught next to a dead body any minute," Chandler jerked her chin up as if defending herself. "I don't want to go to jail because you decided to say goodbye to your dinner! Do you?"

Veronica blinked dazedly, memories of the last seconds before the crash flashing before her eyes. The light she'd seen... had it really been the oncoming headlights?

She turned around slowly.

The crumpled bike lay on the road a few feet from the car. The headlight was broken and the light was out. On the ground, strewn with shards of glass and plastic, lay a man, his body unnaturally twisted. She stared at his face with bated breath: he looked young, about her age... and vaguely familiar, maybe they'd even gone to school together. From beneath his head, a pool of dark, oily blood slowly spread across the dirt road. Veronica felt sick again and hastily put her hands over her mouth.

"You too?" came Chandler's irritated voice next to her ear. "Get in the car, both of you, right now!"

"Maybe he's still alive," she murmured through numb lips, unable to take her eyes off his blood-soaked face. It seemed as if she was about to remember his name.

"Look at him! If he's alive, I'm Mariah Carey," Heather rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan. "Let's go before someone decides to take a shortcut into town! We're in the clear here."

"We should check it out," Veronica moved toward the guy without listening, but Chandler quickly caught up with her and grabbed her elbow with a sudden hard pull.

"Stop acting like Mother Teresa," she hissed in her face, "if he's still alive, he'll be dead soon anyway! And you know who will get the blame? We will! Just because we got behind the wheel after a few drinks and didn't notice some jerk driving in the dark who didn't even bother to turn on his headlights!"

"The headlights were on," Veronica protested weakly, but Chandler just waved her off carelessly and pushed her toward the car.

"Whatever! We have to get out of here as soon as possible, we've already wasted a lot of time. "

"Really, Ronnie, let's get out of here," Duke stepped in unexpectedly, squirming uncomfortably under Veronica's questioning gaze. "Heather's right, there's nothing we can do to help him now. Our lives will be ruined... we'll be out of college for sure. You'll have to give up your dream of being a doctor, and I'll never be allowed to teach. Ever! And everything we've worked so hard for will go to hell because of one little mistake!"

Veronica looked hesitantly at the man lying beside the bike. He's dead, isn't he? The accident had been violent, he'd obviously lost a lot of blood... Doubts rose in a murky wave inside her: maybe she should have listened to Chandler and just left. Tomorrow she'd change her tickets and get out of this damn city for good, and no one would ever know...

"No one would ever know what we did, Veronica," Chandler echoed her thoughts. Digging her nails into her skin, she pulled her to the car."Especially if you don't tell anyone. You won't, will you? "

"I'm not... God, what is wrong with you?" Veronica came to her senses and angrily wriggled out of Heather's tenacious grip. "We hit a man! Maybe we can still..."

"Can what? Take his body to the hospital and confess everything?" Chandler interrupted her with a voice full of venomous mockery.

"Maybe I will confess! What's in it for me?" Ronnie stepped forward and raised her chin stubbornly. "I wasn't driving, Heather, you were! You were driving! You're the only one who's really in danger... and that's why you're trying to scare us all into getting out on our own!"

Chandler snorted and glared at her. Cold, calculating rage glittered in her eyes.

"You may be right," she said slowly, her lips curving into a sly grin, "but what's to stop me from saying you were driving?"

"Duke will confirm it wasn't me, right?" Veronica turned to her friend and stammered: she looked down with a strange expression in her eyes. "Right?"

"I'm sorry..." she swallowed, muttering regret. Ronnie stared at her, surprised. Maybe she had misheard?

"As you can see, you're in the minority again. So stop fucking around and get in the car, Sawyer," Chandler ordered coldly as she nonchalantly walked around her to the car, "we're going home, with or without you. And if you say a word to anyone, the cops will know it was you who hit that poor guy....maybe even on purpose. After all, like you said, he was driving with his lights on."

She grinned triumphantly and got into the driver's seat, slamming the door loudly behind her. Veronica pressed her lips together and turned away hastily.

"Come on," Duke tugged weakly at her sleeve. "When she's like this, it's best not to argue and just obey her. She'll soften later..."

"I don't want to be silent and obey anymore," she tugged angrily at his sleeve and took a few steps back into the darkness. "I'm going to stay and try to do something. And if you tell the cops ... then just go fuck yourself!!!"

Swallowing back angry tears, Veronica turned and walked toward the broken body on the road, slowing with each step. The second door slammed loudly behind her, the engine humming. Biting her lip, she looked back: the jeep backed up quickly and headed back toward the highway, leaving her in total darkness.

On shaky legs, Veronica knelt beside the body, which was lying on its back. Trembling, she leaned over him and pressed her fingers to his neck, trying to feel the beating vein. Her own heart pounded deafeningly in her ears. She froze in suspense; finally she felt a faint beat...a second...beat! Blood-stained eyelashes trembled. The boy opened his eyes and stared at her with a clouded gaze.

"You're alive," she sighed in relief, smiling happily. He nodded stiffly; his lips curled into a pained grin. "My God, you really are alive!"

"I wouldn't be so sure," he murmured, barely audible.

"What? Why?" the smile vanished from her face before it could fully appear.

"Why would here be an angel?"

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in.

"Are you flirting with me?" Veronica snorted in surprise and put her hand over her mouth. "What a time!"

"Well, I almost died...and I think I still might...seems like a good time to me," he paused to catch his breath, "and maybe I could get a kiss from Veronica Sawyer...don't you think?" catching her surprised look, he wiggled his eyebrows mockingly and immediately groaned in pain. "Sorry, I'm a little... out of shape."

"Don't move, you need to keep your strength down until someone shows up," Ronnie sat closer and gently moved his head into her lap. He moaned through clenched teeth. Her skirt was instantly soaked with blood and the sharp metallic smell made her sick again. She swallowed the lump in her throat and continued in a deliberately cheerful voice, "So you know me? I'm sorry, I don't remember your name, but you look familiar to me too.

"Jason Dean, greetings and salutations, babe," his breathing quickened badly, rushing out of his lungs with a raspy wheeze. “We went to high school together... senior year.... It was great to finally see...you fight back against that asshole trio.”

"J.D.!" she gasped, finally recognizing his face under the bloody mask. "You're the guy with the gun who kicked those jerks' asses, Kurt and Rem!"

"That's right," he grinned grimly, focusing his cloudy gaze on her, "I think one of those jerks... you started dating then? "

"Only until graduation, and then I forgot that time like a bad dream. Were you keeping tabs on my love life?" Veronica snorted and gently brushed the hair from his face. J.D. hummed indefinitely, then closed his eyes and fell silent. The wheezing that came out of his mouth sounded especially loud in the silence of the night.

A cold shiver ran down her spine. Unable to help herself, she sobbed quietly: "Keep talking to me, okay? Please...I'm so scared," her voice trailed off. Instantly regretting, Veronica faded into silence.

"I didn't know you were afraid of the dark," J.D. struggled to open his eyes and smiled faintly. "You seemed so tough... when you went up against that bitch... But the end got a little... slurred, though."

"I'm such a coward, you have no clue," she shook her head with a bitter laugh and gently removed her hand from his cheek. "I almost left with them, I really thought about it for a while. I almost left you here to die..."

"Almost doesn't count, honey," he objected with a frown, then suddenly grinned. "Otherwise we'd be together by now... I almost asked you out... on a date at school."

"Too bad you didn't," Ronnie laughed unhappily, running her hand through his tangled hair, "I would have definitely said yes... I have a crush on you and Heather used to tease me about it all the time."

"So I... have a chance?" panted J.D., his eyes suddenly rolling up. He went limp in her lap.

"J.D.?" cried Veronica in horror, pressing her fingers to his neck and counting the beats; his heart was still beating, but it seemed a little weaker. "J.D., please keep talking to me! Please don't leave me here alone... please..."

She thought it was the wheezing that frightened her - but the silence frightened her even more. Veronica sobbed uncontrollably, hot tears falling on his face. J.D. reluctantly opened his eyes, "I'm fine, I just... took a little nap," he raised his hand forcibly and ran his fingers over her tear-stained cheek. "Don't cry... it'll be okay."

"I'm sorry about the whole waterfall, I'm... just please hold on," she bit her lip painfully, trying to pull herself together, "it's almost dawn, someone's bound to come. Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

"And if I do," he grinned weakly, dropping his hand exhaustedly, "will you kiss me?"

"A thousand times," Ronnie nodded, laughing hysterically.

"Careful... with your words..." the pauses in his words became longer and cold sweat broke out on his face. Talking seemed to become more difficult by the second. "Because I will count..."

She wiped the tears from her eyes, still giggling nervously. Her soul was muddy. She should be the one supporting J.D. after what she'd done, and instead he was doing his best to comfort her.

Suddenly, there was a strange sound in the air. The shadows of the trees lengthened dramatically. Veronica lifted her head and saw the outline of a car around the corner.

"This way, we're here!" she called loudly, turning to J.D., unable to hide a happy smile. "Someone's coming, you hear? You're going to be saved... J.D.? Wake up, please! J.D.? Wake up, please! "

***

He still didn't understand how he had survived. The doctors said he should have been dead long before he got to the hospital, from painful shock and massive blood loss. Maybe he wasn't died because of some damned etiquette: it would have been terribly ugly to die in the lap of a very pretty crying girl. Dramatic, sure, but... he'd outgrown the drama.

J.D. wouldn't tell anyone about the accident, just lie that he'd missed a turn at high speed and hit a tree. If he did, the bitch would probably put all the blame on Veronica. And that would be very unfair.

Even if she hadn't kept her own promise. When J.D. opened his eyes, Veronica wasn't there, just a bunch of white coats with blurry faces. He hadn't expected her to stay, though frankly he would have liked... not an apology, no, just her presence. And, of course, the promised kiss, even if it was only one in a thousand.

Then again, maybe he'd just imagined her? For all he knew, Veronica Sawyer had left Sherwood right after graduation. It would be a crazy coincidence to meet his first love on a deserted dirt road in the middle of the woods... wouldn't it?

He almost managed to convince himself that it was just his brain trying to keep him on the edge.

A pretty successful attempt.

The next morning greeted him with the usual background noise: the footsteps of nurses outside the door, the hum of machines, the crackle of old fluorescent lights, and the rustle of pages being turned. He frowned - that last one was very strange. There was no one to visit him: he and his father had stopped pretending to be a family when he turned eighteen, J.D. hadn't made any friends, and he hadn't gotten a girlfriend - it just hadn't happened.

He opened his eyes and stared at Veronica sitting in the chair.

"You here?" he blurted out hoarsely. She perked up and put the book down with an embarrassed smile. "Uh... I'm glad to see you."

"I'm so glad you're finally awake," Ronnie got up and came closer, crouching carefully on the edge of the couch. Her hand timidly reached for his, but she immediately pulled it away. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner... I know you were already awake, but I couldn't get to the hospital in time: I had to change my tickets to stay longer in Sherwood."

"I thought I'd just imagined you," he blurted out, looking at her greedily in the bright light of the hospital lamps. "That you were some kind of near-death hallucination."

Veronica suddenly leaned in and touched his lips gently with her own. The kiss was fleeting; he barely had time to realize it was over. She pulled herself up and looked at him uncertainly. He stared back, stunned.

"Are you going to say something?" unable to bear the hanging pause, Veronica smiled nervously. "I was just thinking... "

"First," J.D. smiled dumbly, cutting her off halfway.

"What?" she frowned, confused.

"It was the first of a promised thousand."

________________

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#heathers #jason dean #j.d.#veronica sawyer #jdonica #heathers fic #ao3fic #heather chandler #heather macnamara #heather duke #au

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