Work Text:
Virgil was just trying to get through the school week without any more fucking mishaps from his parents. They had already taken away his phone away on Sunday evening, because he apparently had unhealthy coping mechanisms. Because taking away one of the things that let him communicate with his friends who kept him sane and actually listened to him would be great for his overall mental health. But he could manage then. He had access to tumblr, Discord, ao3, and he had his tablet. Yes, his school-issued computer wasn’t ideal with all the restrictions, and his tablet was 5 years old, but he could manage that. When Discord and ao3 had been blocked on his tablet, he tried to find a way to get them back, but the app his parents used to use to monitor his screen time (which was practically useless since they had gotten unlimited data), but it wasn’t working on his moms’ iPad. So he just assumed it wasn’t that and shrugged it off. He still had access to Wattpad, and while it wasn’t horribly user-friendly on his tablet, and the fics on there weren’t on ao3 fic levels, he’d manage. He’d be fine.
That Thursday, after an AP World History test, he was reading a fic he found on tumblr. It was written by one of his favorite authors, and he was rather enjoying it. He went to read the next chapter, but when the screen loaded he was met with a privacy warning. He started to panic. He figured the school had blocked it again, and was thoroughly distraught, as he had no other way to access it, unless he was to use his god-awful old as fuck laptop he owned. He went to message his main Discord server, but his message wasn’t going through. He was in tears at this point. Then he realized that ao3 might not work too. He checked it wasn’t loading. He was straight up bawling at this point. His dad yelled to him from upstairs to ask him what was wrong. He yelled back up while crying his situation. He told him to come up to talk to him about it.
He went upstairs, and expected to get his phone back, at least for a bit. But what Virgil got instead was his dad telling him that he had turned off access to these sites with the stupid-ass site they used to use to monitor and control his screen time. He was just in shock at that point. He had thought it was his school. But no, it was just his asshole dad, striking again.
He really didn’t have any fucking say in this house did he.
Yeah needless to say, the rest of his homework didn’t get done for a while. He needed to vent to someone, but had no one to turn to. His parents didn’t care. They said they did, but their actions certainly hadn’t shown it. His sister would be too busy doing work, and would most likely side with his stupid parents. But she was only 11, that was to be expected. He couldn’t tell his friends, obviously, as he had no means to talk to them. So he resorted to listening to Penelope Scotts’ album Public Void on repeat. It was no replacement for a kind friend who would listen to him and would want to beat up his dad (this has never actually happened), it would have to do for now.
Yeah, he could manage. Everything else had been taken away from him, but he still had music. He could manage. Somewhat. Barely. Hopefully. Maybe. No. No he can’t. Not like this, with limited access to anything at the moment. His mental health would plummet. He can’t do this.
Virgil had been fine that day. He was very much inconvenienced, but he could manage.
But now?
With no access to his friends, tumblr, and fanfiction?
The things that had been keeping him sane, with only Spotify left as his coping mechanism?
He can’t manage this. He really can’t.