#(virgil more towards demon and logan more towards piece of shit human)

[robertdownerjunior]

listen, I love 'adorable sweetheart x a literal demon' as much as the next guy but we have to appreciate the trope that is 'a literal demon x an absolute piece of shit human'

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

2.

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

3.

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

4.

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

5.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

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[sebs-anxiety-and-insanity]

You're human?!

Zombie apocalypse au

I have a request in one of the comments and to that person I respond: your request is being done as fast as possible, I had it done but then I reread it and realized it was crap so I am rewriting it again :] the outfit above is Virgil's current outfit he is not genderbent it's just one of my favorites also this is a long one so yeah

Entry number 604:

I don't consistently write unless something big has happened. That said, I have realized something big. I haven't seen another human in roughly three years. THREE. All that remains is undead. This isn't even meant for humans anymore... Haha maybe I'm just starting to lose it... The isolation is getting to me...

Rotten, molded flesh was everywhere around him. He had forgotten the turn again! Ugh, how could he be so stupid!? He  could hear their staggering footsteps closing in, hear their groaning get louder and immersed Virgil in the pain soaked groans coming from behind. It's bizzare to think that they could be in pain while they're chasing you. Well, not really chasing you, but, eh- you get the point. Virgil looked around the alleyway (classic, right?) Looking for a place for him to escape. He looked to his left. Brick. He turned his head to the right. Stone. In front was a back of an apartment building, he could try his luck climbing? Yeah, that might work.

Virgil didn't realize how much time he actually spent thinking of a way to escape the group of Z's behind him until he heard a call from someone- a walker? No. Maybe some disembodied voice- "You're gonna let them eat you?" Virgil looked around to see a disgusting hand reach for him, and succeeding in grabbing his backpack, tugging him backwards. He could hear the voice in the back of his head? Maybe? "Shame." After his fight or flight kicked in he quickly pulled forward, making his way to the building, hearing the sound of something hitting the ground he assumed to be a Z. He quickly reached down pulling the knife he had in his boot out and started to climb the building. He got on the dumpster, struggling to stay up right with the dumpster moving beneath him. He reached up for the window sill, pulling himself up with the help of a push. The push off of the dumpster caused it to roll backwards and to the side hitting a wall. "Shit." He looks up to find the next place to grab. Taking a deep breath Virgil reached for the next window sill using a near by air conditioner as a step stool of sorts. A few seconds after his foot put it's weight on it he heard a creak. Uh oh. The air conditioner quickly fell out of the window, crushing a Z at the bottom and almost sending Virgil down with it. He managed to keep a semi good hold on the window. Virgil closed his eyes resting his forehead on the building. "C'mon, c'mon.. Whew okay Virgil you got this." He whispered before continuing his journey up.

At the second window from the roof Virgil decided to rest a moment, taking advantage of the open window. He took deep breathes, trying his best to hold on as he was reluctantly losing his grip. As he caught his breath Virgil felt chills run down his spine as he heard the most inhumane groan. He looked up, scared at what he might find. There stood a HUGE Z. No this one goes into walker. More dangerous than a Z (they are all zombies just he names them in categories-)when stuck in place. It began to walk toward him dragging his leg behind him. Virgils breath hitched. He was screwed didn't have enough time to climb past the window without the walker getting his legs, but he also couldn't get a weapon to defend himself with. He could try climbing in and then grab a weapon but that didn't seem like he could win that. No,, his best bet was to keep climbing. He grabbed the next window sill, the cuts and scrapes from the brick building he was on, burning his hand. Clenching his his eyes shut he continued to go for the roof. "Open your eyes!" A different disembodied voice said it this time. Virgil obliged and looked up to see a man. Wait, a man? As in, HUman?! "C'mon kiddo grab my hand!" Virgil stared at the out reached hand. Is he even real? Or is this man a figment of his imagination? Something made for his spiralling mind. He felt a finger glide against his boot. He wouldn't have long if he just stared. Real or not he'd rather take a chance with the guy. Virgil quickly stopped staring and grabbed the hand. The stranger Began to pull him up, and Virgil let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, until the walker grabbed his boot. Shitshitshit nonono. Gasping Virgil began to try and pull himself up more with the help of the man of course. "A little help Rem?" The man struggled to get out between grunts, obviously using all his strength to get Virgil up on the roof. "Ugh, fine!" The first disembodied voice spoke- did he say 'Rem'? Virgil was felt himself be pulled up a bit but the walker wasn't giving up and wouldnt let go. Virgil went wide eyed upon feeling the breath of the walker. "NO!" Virgil began kicking in spastic movements, kicking and flailing harder then before. Was this how he died? Delusional and alone?

One kick seemed to land or something cause Virgil felt himself being lifted with ease and sat down on the roof. "I have saved the damsel in distress again!" Virgil didn't realize he'd closed his eyes, but when he opened them he was pleasantly surprised. Three people stood before him. REAL PEOPLE! In a moment of  euphoria, and a lot of mixed feelings Virgil

Lept onto the closet person to him, clutching onto him tightly, muttering things the taller male couldn't hear. "Sweetie? Are-are you okay?" Rem, as the other male called him lightly touched Virgil's back, tapping him in a questioning manner. Virgil's heart fluttered at the nickname, and his skin buzzed and hued at the touch. Virgil coming to his senses sat up Apologizing, of course not fully to his senses as he continued to straddle Rem. "Apologies- it's just.." Virgil looks down at Rem, staring into his eyes for what felt like forever (five seconds) and then looked over to the other two, who looked as if they didn't know what to do about the situation, before looking back at Rem. "You're human?" Virgil leaned forward a tiny bit,, his hands holding him up on Rem's chest. Rem chuckled and Virgil could just explode in happiness by just feeling the vibrations of coming from his chest. Rem was real. That's all he knew. Rem wasn't from some twisted part of his head making him believe he wasn't alone. "I-i Mean- like, you're real?" Virgil looked away blushing, "As real as that pretty little face of yours sweetheart." Virgil was sure he was a tomato by now and- wait. Is he..? OHMYGODIMSTRADDLINGAREALLYHOTGUY.  Virgil quickly got up, looking over at the two strangers. "Aww." The one with glasses and curly blonde hair said. The other looked as if he would be the definition of perfection if he were a prince.

Hell most of the people here could be on most sexy guy alive or whatever that magazine was. "I'm Patton, and this is Roman!" The man-Patton enthusiasticly pointed at the main with red tipped hair. "He's super strong." Patton whispered. "And that's Remy!" Patton pointed to the hot guy getting up from the ground. "And you are?" Patton displayed a puppy face that could get someone out of death row after there wasn't a response. Virgil contemplated telling them his name, after all Virgil isn't a very good name.. "Well, sheesh! You look like my anxiety and depression demon from like 8th grade." Virgil shrunk in on himself at the remark from Roman. "Roman that's enough." Remy spoke up as he stood beside Virgil. "What? I mean this.. Look" He gestured at Virgil. "Looks to be a lot of effort! Does he try to make himself look like this in the APOCALYPSE-" Before he could stop himself Virgil hissed at Roman. Virgil slapped his hands across his mouth, shocked that he did that to a stranger. Virgil carefully looked back up to see Roman in shock, Patton whispering things like "woahhhhhhh my new son". Virgil didn't wanna look at Remy's reaction though, afraid of the look he might be given. If there is one thing to know, even when seperated from the rest of humanity, it to know that Remy gave off a different vibe then the rest. Roman gave off a 'more bark then his bite' (although he definitely could put you down) Patton  a dad vibe. And Remy the bad bitch of the apocalypse vibe, one that could end you with words. Or even just a glare. "Fuck you princey." Virgil crossed his arms. Roman looked to be glowing and Patton covered his ears. "Why thank you anxiety." Virgil glared at him. But decided not to tell his name. At least, not to Roman. "I'm good enough for Royalty! Even in the end of the world." Remy sighed. "So, what now?" He looked over to Patton, dusting his leather jacket. "Hmm, I suppose we take him with us! Maybe Lo will lemme keep him." He didn't like being compared to a pet or a piece of property but when these are the first human contact you can let it go... Once.

Okay, when hearing he might get to go to a camp with other humans- people, he didn't expect to be carried, but, Remy insisted, saying something about Patton not wanting precious cargo damaged. Virgil let himself doze on Remys back listening to the light conversation taking place between Patton and Roman. The breeze hitting Virgil was delightful and helped lure him closer to sleep. Virgil remained on that edge of sleep to where you're asleep, but you knew you were asleep and was partially awake. (Make sense? Idk it happens me-) he heard the conversation take more serious tone, "So.... Now that anxiety is asleep, what are we gonna do with him? I mean we don't know for sure if he is safe. Maybe he has been bitten.. You know somewhere hidden by those clothes." He heard a sigh presumably from Patton, "I'm sure he would've shown symptoms by now. Besides, he's adorable, right, Remy?" "He is definitely adorable-" "See!? Let's just wait and see what Logan says." Virgil tightened his grip on Remy and finally drifted off fully to sleep.

Remy nudged Virgil's head with his own, effectively waking Virgil up. "Huh? Smguhthmbi.." Remy chuckled, "before turning the corner into an abandoned looking apartment. "We're back, bitches!" A man dressed in a duster and jeans with a tie wrapped around a jar that hung from his belt, looked over at the two, eyes narrowing at Virgil, making him very aware of his position. Virgil immediately got out of Remys hold, Remy taking his arms away from Virgil so he didn't trip him. "Out, everyone, please." The man took off his glasses gesturing in his and Remys general direction. "Not you two." Virgil felt a lump in his throat, anxiety creep up his spine. Ah, how he missed this. He didn't. This was actually the only thing he didn't miss about humanity. "Now, tell me," The door shut with a soft click as everyone else had left. Leaving behind all types of supplies filling up the kitchen and various other rooms. "Why are you here?" The man walked in front of the table he was behind, leaning on it as he crossed his arms. Virgil was starting to feel panic as he didn't actually know  why he was here. "We saw him in an alley way, cornered by Zombos." Remy lifted his sun glasses letting them rest on his head. Moving over to the old kitchen counter. "He climbed up the side of a building and we just kinda keep him-" "I do not believe I was talking to you." Virgil flinched at the amount of venom oozing from  his words. "Can he even help us in some way? We have enough people to house! If he cannot pull his own weight then he can leave. Of course he would have to prove himself, he does seem weak. Having to have been carried seems strange.." His eyes squing through the glasses placed on his nose. "I-" "Has he been bitten?" Virgil had to swallow irritation from being cut off and the amount of questions coming from this stranger. To be frank, he was actually missing being alone and isolated already. "N-" "I wasn't talking to you." The man shot back, okay, now Virgil was getting really irritated. "Any sane person knows that one would lie to save their own skin. I mean, you had to be running from something to have carried that much stuff." The man gestured to his things. "Jesus, calm down! He hasn't been bit!" The man raised his brow, as if begging the question 'and you know this how?' Remy rolled his eyes. "Bitch, he would've shown symptoms by now, Einstein! Sweating, really fucking hungry, etc. Fucking hell! Leave it to Logan to make things overly dramatic." "I am merely being protective." He seethed. The man who Remy called Logan, pinched his nose sighing. "Fine! We can keep him-" "Can everyone stop fucking saying that!?" Remy and Logan stared at him in suprise. "I'm not some fucking THING you can keep! I was doing just fine without this place- yes this means, I. Don't. Need. You. Damnit I'm not something you can claim as property and I sure as HELL ain't no fucking-" Virgil threw his hands up in the air before taking a breath. "No, I don't need to prove myself to you and I won't. You don't want me here then I'll go." Virgil began to turn around to leave. "I'll gladly take another three years without people." He muttered. "Hey, I saved you." Remy reminded. "You are my responsibility and if I say you stay you stay." Remy took a step forward. "... I owe you and the other two but I don't owe him." Virgil stopped moving and stared between Logan and Remy. "He is staying with me Logan. And really how much pain can he cause I mean we have Remus." Logan paused thinking a moment. "*sigh* fine. I'll get him an outfit. But he is pulling his weight around here." "Alright!" Remy turned and started to guide Virgil towards the door. "Feels nice to have two bad bitches here." Remy smirked at Virgil as the walked. His hand floating around the small of Virgil's back as he showed him the place. Maybe having found a group of survivors wasn't so bad after all.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Woah that's a long one 😅

Anyways I'll work on a part 2 soon

Hope you enjoyed💜

Not proof read

Tag list {you can ask to be added or removed}:

@reiney-weather @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @love-lemons @emo-sunshine42 @autumnpleaves @hedgiehoggles @radicalskatervirgil

[anothersillyfanblog]

Earth On Hell

This is my Sanders Sides gift for @marsupials-of-mars for @sanderssidesgiftxchange!!! Basically all the sides are demons, hanging out in hell, but one of them (wonder who) is a teeny bit more chaotic than the others. (P.s I am gonna post on ao3 in a few days as well btw.)  Btw I’m not great at tags so mega apologies if it still slipped through sorry.

Hell.

Lunch breaks round here weren’t boring- there was plenty to see and do in hell- it had just kind of reached a point for Janus where most of it had already been done. Hence why, no matter what his colleagues in the eighth circle said, there was something interesting about sitting down with this chatty little demon and watching the human flesh blister.

“Y’know what I think?” the younger demon, Remus, casually asked. Janus sighed. “I try not to.” “I think that everyone who ends up here is dumb.” He tossed a rat into his mouth “All you gotta do is act nice and suck up to the big daddy in the clouds- that’s it! Easier than boiling babies!” “No,” Janus raised his eyebrows. “Because it’s based on the nature of your soul not what you do.”

“Well that ain’t fair! What if you can’t HELP dreaming of torture and carving hearts into carcases (or whatever these idiots got in here for), like it’s in your pretty little head from day uno?” He wagged his finger at Janus. “They could never do anything wrong in their entire life but get sent here for naughty thinking… seems a lil shitty to me.” “Well apparently they can ‘repent their sins and get eternal salvation’.” Janus revelled in the other guys’ confusion for a moment. “Say sorry a lot and it’ll be ok.” “Ohhhhhhhhhhh right. Oh yeah ok.” Remus nodded. “Seems a bit suspicious, are you sure that’s a thing?”

A couple of screams got louder, and Janus turned to see a scrawny horned demon carrying a bucket and biting his lip. He had his arms comically wrapped all the way round it- an ugly neon yellow bucket with a ‘warning’ label (because hell needs health and safety standards)- and he was edging towards a nearby cliff.

“Hey Virge!” Remus called out “What’cha doin?” “I…” the horned demon tipped the bucket over the precipice as the screams intensified “…am adding a couple… of new souls… to the… whirlwind.” “Come get lunch, Virgil! It’s rat day!” he grinned, holding up a rodent “Also didn’t Pat tell you to do that like, a week ago?” “Yes but I’m also a dumb bitch.” Virgil sat down next to Remus. “Who’s this?” he glanced awkwardly at Janus. “I-” “HE’S my friend from the EIGHTH FUCKING CIRCLE!!!” Remus interrupted. “That not being the eighth circle of fucking, though it might well be…” “It’s not.” Janus clarified. “Yeah, I didn’t think it was.” Virgil smiled “I’m Virgil. I work with him under Patton? Second circle so-to-speak.” “Oh yeah I know the guy.”

Patton was the overseer for a lot of things in the lower levels. Not really a specific tier, or a specific expertise, but if you spent any time in one-five then you at least saw him. Most people ‘above’ him were aware of him in a general sense. Janus had met him twice? Three times? Yeah, if you counted bumping shoulders at the river Styx that one time, then it was three.

It made sense that Remus and Virgil worked for Patton- a lot of the younger demons did these days.

“UGH doesn’t everyone?” Remus whined “He is annoying!” “He’s your boss.” Janus observed. “Yes, and he’s annoying! I say we, I dunno, set fire to his ass or something…” Virgil shrunk into his seat “He’s our boss? Also he isn’t in charge of everyone, he has a boss right…” “Yeah, but uh…” Remus clicked his fingers “We were saying weren’t we?” he looked at Janus. “No. Whatever you think we were saying, we weren’t.” “People shouldn’t get here for wanting to do crimes!” he clapped his hands “I think we should break everyone out of hell.”

One week later: Hell

Work hours, naturally. Janus was trying to process new souls but honestly there was no signal and his tablet just wasn’t working.

“And they say eighth circle is an enviable job…” he tapped the screen “I- I’ll be with you in a moment, sorry about this.” He said to the guy in line to be thrown into the pit. “No, no, take your time.”

Finally, the sound of footsteps approaching! Janus looked up and smiled. “Ah, the tech guy! Yeah, there’s no service on this, so if you could-”

“Where’s Remus?” Janus smiled a little “Excuse me?” “Which circle can Remus be found in?” the tech guy kept his face stern (if he was the tech guy) “I know you know him.” “I’m working right now, or trying to, so come back when I’m not and then we can talk.”

The tech guy ripped the tablet out of Janus’ hands.

“Where can Remus be found?” “He isn’t an important demon-” “Lower tiers…” “Not what I mean, I meant you shouldn’t need him.” “But I do.” “Why?” “Irrelevant, just tell me where he is located.” “Well forgive me for thinking you’re going to hurt him, but I think you’re- you know- going to hurt him.” “Falseh- it’s inconsequential, I must find him.” Janus paused. “Fix my tablet, please. I believe you.”

The tech guy looked momentarily confused before realising what Janus meant and doing so. “Second circle, every time I’ve seen him.” Janus said “Is… is he in trouble?”

“Not with me, negative. I do not have the influence to get many people into trouble. As for the future…” he sighed “I would advise you to keep your distance from him, though that’s my observation.” He left off towards the exit of the tier.

Janus grimaced, looking at his now-working tablet.

“If it’s any consolation, it probably won’t affect you.” The guy in line said, making Janus jump in surprise. “Shit! I need to get all you processed, I am gonna get in trouble.” He smiled at the guy who now frowned. “Okay name and age at time of death…”

One month later: Hell

“Where’s-” “Remus?” Patton interrupted. “we’re dealing with it.” Janus chuckled “Will anyone down here actually let me finish a sentence?” “Of course, my apologies- what were you going to say?” “Where is Virgil?” he smirked. “He works in your general bracket, right?”

Patton breathed in sharply. No one had seen Virgil since Remus had started (conveniently) quietening down, and Janus knew it. Everybody knew it. His work tallies were still placed in- by who, nobody knew- but the second circle was widely lacking in Virgil.

“He’s doing some work on…” Patton’s eyes darted round rapidly “admin. He’s working on potential field experience up there, needs to put in the admin first.”

Janus raised his eyebrows, looking up towards the Earth. “The thing is, Pat, I’m Eighth circle. I specialize in fraud- you know what that is?” Patton nodded. “Deceit, Patton, lies. And every day suave fuckers queue up trying to tell me why I have ‘the wrong circle’ or why ‘they should get special treatment’ and guess what, Patton? It’s always bullshit.”

He stared straight at the other demon. “I have been doing this for too damn long to not have the fucking right to tear the throat of anyone, ANYONE, who dares to be as lousy as you at lying to me. So don’t ever tell me that Virgil is doing admin, FUCKING ADMIN, because no one here will believe- or miss- you.” He sighed. “Let’s start again. Where’s Virgil?”

Patton swallowed “I…”

“Do you not know?” Janus asked, “This will go a lot better for you if you just admit that you don’t know.” Patton shook his head “Not exactly, no.” he whispered, “We’re not sure where he is.” “Not sure or don’t know?” “We know he’s in hell… we know that, we’re aware of him but not where.” Janus pinched his forehead “Okay so out of all the nine circles of hell, you have no clue, none. Lovely.” “If Remus would co-operate…” Patton muttered. “If I would what now?”

Ah yes, Remus. Walking cheerily towards them, smile slightly wider than ever, living his best life. Of course it was most likely that he had been questioned on Virgil’s whereabouts, given their activities during the past month-or-so, but Remus had decided to ‘calm down’ now and had ‘no idea about anything that anyone was doing’. Or so he had said to Janus.

“Patton! You already know I told ya everything about Virge, didn’t I?” he grinned. “Of course, don’t doubt it.” Patton said, as if he were lecturing a child. “And you got all your silly little friends to stand down which was very good of you.” Remus clapped his hands. “Yes! I did that!” “BUT!” Patton wagged his finger “I think you may have forgotten places that Virgil could be- or things you knew about Virgil.” Remus gasped in shock “Oh no!” “We want to find him, you want to find him. Let’s do this together please.” Patton nodded towards Janus. “Isn’t that right?” “Huh?” Janus smirked “Oh yes, working together. Of course.” Patton smiled again, then turned to leave.

Remus groaned “Ugh, what an annoying piece of poop! Wanna feed him to a pack of rampaging squirrels!” “Where’s Virgil?” “Up your butt!” Remus laughed, “Just kidding, don’t check, I have no idea.” Janus nearly prayed out of sheer frustration. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Remus, unholy shit.” “Okay, okay!” he giggled. “So I might know… but I can’t tell you.” “Why?” Janus asked, confused, “You think I’m going to run to Patton?” Remus looked down “Well, Logan says you shouldn’t be involved in-”

“You’re still working with Logan? You said you’d told them to stand down…” Remus chuckled “You believe that?” “Well, no,” Janus admitted, “But I…what the fuck are you planning?” “Eh, just a little bit of trouble…” “What you did already was a ‘little bit of trouble’- hell, it got your supervisors’ attention, so actually it was kinda a bit more than that.” Janus explained. “I made a group?” “A militia.” Remus threw his arms up “Well, we barely did anything! Pat WAY overreacted!” “Not… if you’re actually planning something he didn’t.” “So you are on his side?”

“I…” Janus looked away. “I don’t want this going south. For you, Virge, us. That’s the bargain you make when you leave heaven, to look out for you and yours. Get what is considered ‘best’ down here.” “But what if what is ‘mine’ is…” Remus looked wistfully at the hurricane of souls swirling around them “Never mind. See you around!”

He made his way off towards the offices where he worked, leaving Janus listening to the winds scream for mercy.

One year later: Hell

“Here.” Janus held out a bucket of blood that spat angrily at both of the demons, “from management.” Roman didn’t look up. “Chuck it in, before they get too comfortable.”

Janus peered down at the bubbling lake, almost glad to see that some parts of hell hadn’t changed that much. He poured the new blood in and watched the souls writhe- no hope of Remus for this lot. Though somehow, in some corners, they screamed out his name. How? Patton had nearly torn his horns off the first time he’d heard it, because how? How could they know about him? And that was the problem when the fresh blood was added and the screaming began anew.

What they screamed for.

Roman rolled his eyes “I’ve never wanted them to stop more…” Janus scoffed “You should see Patton, he has lost it.” “How so?” “Apparently,” he began, “He’s been inventing and subjecting harsher tortures for any souls who mention his name- or the others.” Roman chuckled at this “Well! Woe betide any gossip outlet, then…” “He’s getting them shut down, I think.” Roman gasped “His higher-ups can’t approve of that- right?”

Janus raised his eyebrows “His higher-? Roman, after the whole, well, you know… after Remus did all that, his only higher ups were a couple of folks in what used to be ninth circle.” He looked to the lake of blood. “Now? I don’t think some of them would even challenge him…”

“Oh.” Roman smiled. “How long’s that going to last?” “What?” “Patton- in charge? Until things are figured out, right?”

At this Janus started to laugh. He kept laughing and laughing till Roman joined in then realised it just wasn’t funny because it never had been.

“Forever.” He scowled. “He’s going to stabilize and reorganize the layers he has, take back the ones he doesn’t, put the souls back into torment, then execute the demons. All of them. Remus, Virgil, Logan, Remy, ALL OF THEM WILL DIE. Painfully. And then! He will rule over hell forever.”

“That’s a bit cynical.” “Well EXCUSE ME-” “No, I just thought- being an ex-friend of Remus- you might’ve been more cheerful.” Janus bit his lip. “We weren’t friends because we were even remotely similar. We were friends because I was bored, work was boring.” “Okay, makes sense!” Roman smiled. “So we’re all gonna end up working under Patton (if we aren’t already) and it’s gonna be aaaahhh ooohh not good very bad?” “Little bit more than that, but yes.” “Ah so more painfully terrible every moment we’re awake?” “Yeah.” “Hm… why not leave?” Roman casually asked. You know, casually.

Janus scoffed “Because of the whole dying thing?” he gestured wildly “I can’t go off on my own; I don’t stand a chance, I can’t repent; you have to mean that shit, and I can’t go with Remus and his crew because- because…” he looked down “I’m sorry Roman but the reason I never got too involved in the first place is because what he plans just isn’t going to work. He can’t win- he’ll die, and if I get involved then I will too and the point of all of this,” he spread his arms round “Is so you can look out for yourself, so you don’t have to be selfless and give up everything for someone else. Why do I have to be ashamed for not wanting to be a martyr?”

“I… you don’t.” “Exactly” Janus snapped. “If you truly believe that this is what’s better,” Roman added. Janus whistled “No, that’s…” he shook his head “Anyway. Whatever happens, they can’t be faulted for trying.” “No, absolutely not! Wait we are talking Remus and-” “Of course I’m talking about Remus’ lot.” Roman nodded “Ah, well yes- I agree. They’ve done a surprisingly competent job, all of them.”

They both paused for a moment. “It’s because they have the tech guy.” “It’s coz of the tech guy.” Roman agreed “I mean it’s not like the rest of his crew can’t organize things, but…” “It’s the tech guy.” Janus concluded “I hear he orchestrated the ‘Virgil plot’.” “Exactly!” Roman exclaimed “and that was wow, just impressive as anything (if you don’t mind me saying), like- hiding Virgil for that long to steal that many souls? If they don’t win it’ll be a little depressing.” “It’ll be more than that.” Janus smiled solemnly.

“It’ll be the end of life as we know it.”

Ten Years Later: Italy.

“Virge!” Janus could hear someone calling outside of the cavern “can you get that thick ass over here, please?” That ‘someone’ was probably Remus. “Janus, that includes you too!” “How does ‘Virge’ include me?” he called back. “Don’t question the king of crimes!”

Reluctantly, Janus stood up and wandered out to the frosty mountainside. He grimaced- the cold bits of hell had never been his favourite, even when they flaunted ‘coveted positions’ and such. Still.

“You want a coffee?” Remy asked. “Please.” He gestured over to a nearby hut “The coffee machine is right there, honey.” “But I never get the ratio right…” Janus pleaded. Remy chuckled and sipped his drink “Girl, that just ain’t my problem!”

“Janus!” Remus grabbed his arm suddenly and yanked him away “You sexy motherfucker, I called you an AGE ago! Now come on!” “Right, what do you need?” “Emotional stability…” Remus placed his hand on his chest “Just kidding! So basically, the waterpump’s broken (but Logan’s “dealing with that”), we received word that Patton has guns now- so we need better defences just in case- and also Patton has guns so yeah. Can we have those please?” Janus’ eyes widened. “Ok so is Patton-with-a-gun confirmed, or a rumour? Because hell basically never deploys projectiles.” “Are you sure I can’t be used as a projectile?” Remus half-spoke aloud “Yeet me at them.” “You’re getting distracted.” “Oh. Yes, it’s confirmed. One billion percent.” Janus pinched his forehead “Well, somehow I doubt that statistic, but okay. Let’s work on anti-gun strategy, defence, etc. because it is possible they’ll get hold of unholy projectiles specifically for us.” “Why can’t we get guns?” “Maybe one day, but if you actually think I trust you with a GUN-” “Fair point”

“Um, I was called?” Virgil was stood in the snow, watching them talk. They both jumped. “Yeah like, FIFTY YEARS AGO!” Remus cried. “Oh I’M sorry, look I did show up- it’s just I didn’t want to interrupt…” he trailed off. Janus smiled. “That’s understandable.” “That’s understandable.” Remus mimicked “Ooh, whatever, we were just chatting! No rules on chatting! Also what are your thoughts on guns?” “I think we should focus on hiding for now…” “BORING! Guns?” “Let him speak” Janus warned. Virgil looked down “I mean, our last skirmish went well, and we are getting more to join… but right now I think we should focus on what we have. And that advantage is mystery. Let’s keep it.” “Ooh mystery! Spooky!” Remus wiggled his arms. “No, I get what you mean.” Janus nodded “Like how you got so many in the beginning because they were intrigued, people will talk if we stay off the map for a while.” Remus tutted “Oh, you. Being sensible.” He frowned “We’ve been lucky, haven’t we? To live?” Janus smiled “Like this? Absolutely.” “Yeah, we should go under. Be sneaky! Recruit people who aren’t dicks and so on.”

Logan agreed with the idea for once, which was probably because it was Virgil’s, but also he stated: “We have already been living ‘both figuratively and literally underground’ so it makes an appropriate amount of sense to make this an officially secret place of dwelling.” 

He also agreed with Janus’ gun-plan. This, of course, being that they focus on defence and perhaps work on getting weapons of their own in the future. Though he was a little heavier on the “no gun-wielding-Remus” stance, stating: “On no condition can he be allowed a gun, none. Others in our company- fine. I will trust from the upper-most generals to the smallest child amongst us with a projectile, but never Remus. Oh and can we consider adding Remy to that list?”

Janus didn’t bother to question the part about trusting children with guns, he simply nodded and got to work on defence, sometimes smiling at Remus as he did.

And it didn’t matter what anyone was or wasn’t doing, Remus always grinned away.

One Century Later

[roman-deserves-love]

The Apocalypse Should Be Easier

Word Count: 1440 ish

Pairings: prinxiety

Summary: Virgil has done many things, but he has never pretended to be a magician in order to watch the Antichrist get himself a new pet.Until the pet doesn't show up, which has far, far bigger consequences than one would think. Good Omens au.

Swearing uwu

Virgil had done many things over the course of his very long, very strange existence. He’d lost a flaming sword due to some Edenistic hijinks, been captured by French rebels for trying to get a loaf of authentic bread, and tempted a priest on a bet with a demon. He’d been around the world and off it more time than he could count. He could tell you what Julius Caesar’s real last words were. He knew every star in the sky and all the ones past it. He could say what it was like to be fire, to be water, to be more than everyone around him.

Until this moment, however, he could not have told you what it was like to be a second-bit magician performing ‘magic’ for the Antichrist and his very bored friends.The experience could honestly be summed up in three words: loss of dignity. He desperately tried to get them to pay attention to the bunny he was pulling out of his top hat (included in the Lil’ Magicians Starter Pack™, only 12.99 at Target), and failed miserably. The little buggers just kept scrolling through Instabook, or whatever it was. Virgil was an interdimensional celestial being, but God dammit if he couldn’t keep track of all the mortal inventions within the telephones they’d created a few years back.

“You’re quite a shit magician, you know?” One of the Antichrist’s friends had torn themselves from their phone, “Your stage presence is completely rubbish. My father could do better than you.”

Virgil grit his teeth. Of course the Destroyer would have a bunch of snot-nosed friends. He glanced down at his watch. 2:38, eight more minutes until the boy turned eleven and his hellhound appeared. Just eight more minutes of trying to avoid sucking too much. “Well, child, I’m sure you’d be better equipped to judge my abilities if you were paying attention.” God, the things Virgil would have done to these brats back in the old days, when She was still in her vengeful phase. Unfortunately though, She’d mellowed out once She had a kid, and now it was all ‘no smiting’ and ‘Great Plan’. Honestly, it was almost enough to make Virgil wish he’d joined the Fallen. There’d been a traffic jam on the way to the dissenter’s meeting, and he’d missed the Fall completely. Traffic in heaven was even worse than Los Angeles, and Virgil had been stopped there at the height of it more than a few times. All the transportation bureaucrats had been sent to Hell, and Virgil’s commute had suffered ever since.

Virgil was rudely shaken out of his brief distraction by a piece of cake. More specifically, a slice of three-hundred dollar devil’s food birthday cake, because coincidence was a bitch, and of course that would be the little shit’s favorite. Said piece was thrown into Virgil’s face. Said throwing was done by Remy, which was the name of the Antichrist, because naming children The Antichrist is largely frowned upon. Said throwing was continued by Remy's friends. Much to Virgil’s dismay. He let it continue for a few minutes, hoping they’d burn themselves out, but when they didn’t, he sighed and put down the hat.

“Alright kids, listen up. I’m sure all your parents are nice people, which is odd because all of you are degenerate little monsters. And the only reason I haven’t stormed out of here middle fingers up is because I need those parents to pay me, so if you little snots have even the slightest bit of empathy for human life, you’ll sit the hell down and shut the heaven up, because I’m relying on this gig for this month’s rent, and I will not let that go down the drain because none of you can be bothered to look up from your iGalaxy 10s and realize that I am a person, not a damned monkey here to do a trick.” Virgil whisper-yelled this, lying through his teeth and overly aware of the parents watching from the back of the outdoor tent he was to ‘perform’ in.

The children looked at each other, and for a moment Virgil hoped that he’d thoroughly admonished them, but alas, he’d forgotten that one particular trait of this era’s youth- the inability to take anything seriously. The gaggle of kids burst out laughing, and Virgil flushed, looking down at his watch. 3:49. Wait, that couldn’t be right. Remy had been born at 3:48. It was written on the walls of End Times, scored into the books of Heaven, burned into the gates of Hell. The child would receive the hellhound on his eleventh birthday exactly, and he would name it, and the naming would begin the apocalypse. So where was the hound? He quickly made eye contact with a man at the back of the crowd, or he would’ve if his eyes weren’t covered in dark sunglasses that hid his eyes completely. Virgil gestured to the watch briefly with a panicked look on his face, and turned back to the children before (hopefully) anyone in the crowd noticed.

He quickly weighed the pros and cons of leaving, despite the fact that he’d just told roughly fifty kids that he couldn’t, but really, what did the opinions of a few little kids matter against a snag in the Great Plan? Not much, but Virgil couldn’t help himself worrying about how they’d feel of him as he dashed out of the tent, running toward his partner in crime’s Bentley, where said partner was already waiting, tossing the keys up and down as he waited for Virgil to reach the car. Seeing him, he unlocked it, climbing into the driver’s seat.

Virgil all but slammed into the passenger seat, panting from his run. (Yes, he was an immortal being. No, that did not mean he had to be fit. Bugger off.) He whipped his head to look at the man in the driver’s seat.

“Roman, what the fuck? Did you know about this? Is this some trick from your people?”

“I could ask the same of you, angel. I’m as confused as you are.” The lack of an answer sent Virgil into overdrive.

“Maybe it got held up? They forgot to release it? Remy doesn’t have a name yet? Oh God, we lost the Antichrist’s hellhound. Logan is going to discorporate me, isn’t he? Oh God oh God oh God where is he!?” As he said the last sentence, he turned to Roman, grabbing him by the collar of his leather jacket and all but shook him as he panicked.

Roman was equally terrified, but as the one who had given the Antichrist to the Sisterhood of The Chattering Nuns to be given to Remy’s family, he had a sneaking suspicion that they hadn’t lost the hellhound, but something even worse. He gently pried Virgil’s hands off of his jacket, handing (heh) them back to Virgil slowly. “Calm down angel, whatever has happened, shaking the spirit out of me won’t help at all. Deep breaths, Vee, can you do that? Logan isn’t going to do anything to you.” Virgil followed Roman’s advice, taking breathing slowly and deeply as he took his hands from where Roman had still been holding them. The pair sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, both of them focusing on Virgil’s breathing.

When he looked significantly calmer, Roman turned to him, trying to figure how best to present his theory to Virgil. “I think I may know what happened.”

Virgil’s head turned to Roman so fast Roman thought he was teleporting for a second. “What is it? What do you know? Tell me now or so help me I will get Biblical on your ass, divine benevolence or not.”

“See, the thing is, when I was dropping off the baby, there may have been another family delivering, and you know how Satanic nuns are, they’d lose their heads if they weren’t attached, so there is a little chance that something… may have… gone.... wrong.” Roman trailed off under Virgil’s steely gaze.

“What, exactly, are you saying, Roman.” Virgil all but growled in a tone that reminded Roman just how powerful the angel was.

What I’m saying is,” Roman took a deep breath,”we didn’t lose the hell hound.”

“We lost the child.”

------

About a hundred miles away, an eleven-year-old boy named Thomas took the puppy he’d found in the woods home, and named it Dog.

[max-is-tired]

Look Into My Eyes (It’s Where My Demons Hide)

Pairing: Analogical, background Royality

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Caelius (OC), Amelia (OC), Emile Picani (mentioned)

Words: 5.686

Warnings: Blood, stab wound (mentioned, not graphic but it’s there), kidnapping, mind control, referenced past abuse, referenced past kidnapping, vampires, witches, I should have tagged everything but please let me know if I missed something!!

Notes: It will be very short, I said. 1k words max, I said. Nothing big, I said. If this is what past me said, then why THE FUCK DID THIS BECOME A 5K+ MONSTER WHAT THE HECK-

Just to make you guys understand real quick why I say this fic got out of control. I've got an entire AU out of this. I need help.

Finally, after days of endless crying and typing and editing, here is my piece for @darknightvirgil's Halloween exchange, for none other than the amazing @virgilmydarkstrangeson !!! I really really hope you like your gift Nate, and I'm incredibly sorry for being so late!

Hit me up if you want to be added to the taglist and let me know if you liked this, reblogs, comments and asks are always very welcome and much appreciated!

Read it on AO3!!

Once, when he was a kid, Logan had asked his mother what love was.

“That’s a very difficult question to answer.” She had said, carefully mulling the question over and over in her head. “Let’s see. Love is… caring for someone in such a powerful way that just being near them is enough to make you smile. It’s being happy when they’re happy. It’s finding yourself doing everything possible to cheer them up when they’re sad. Love is also a risk though, because to fall in love means giving someone the power to break your heart in a million pieces with a snap of their fingers. Love can also mean pain, so heartbreaking and painful that you can barely breathe.”

“But if it can hurt so much, why do people fall in love?”

“Because for the right person, it will be worth it.”

He didn’t understand back then, what she meant. The concept of ‘love’ –something so powerful and mighty, able to make people move mountains and defeat entire armies- felt so foreign to him, like some sort of intangible, unattainable goal. He figured he would get it, one day. And yet, time passed, and he kept living his life without understanding.

Maybe he wasn’t meant for love, he thought.

Then, he met Virgil.

Virgil had barged into Logan’s life without a warning, completely turning his whole world upside down. He had been the first person that seemed to actually enjoy Logan’s company, listening to his ramblings and often helping him with his researches. The worked well together, like a well-oiled machine, and with time Logan had found himself enjoying the anxious man’s company more and more.

Suddenly, his mother’s words started to make sense.

Now three years have passed, and Logan feels like a schoolgirl on her first crush.

“Honestly Lo, why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Patton asks, his cheerful voice filling the apartment. “I know you like to pretend you don’t have feelings, but-”

“I do not pretend, Patton.” Logan snaps, face turning into a scowl as he keeps searching for the book he’s looking for. “While it is true that I quite enjoy Virgil’s companionship, we should not forget the fact that he’s just a human. Harboring such feelings for him would be a really foolish action on my part.”

“Oh, shut up Specs!” Roman interjects, “You’re head over heels for that guy, and the sooner you stop denying it the better!”

“Excuse me?!” Logan bristles, pivoting on his heels to glare at the other. “I am not, thank you very much.”

Roman simply raises an eyebrow, clearly not affected by Logan’s heated glare. “Logan, I listened to you ranting about him for over three hours the other day.”

“I am not in love with Virgil, and that is final.”

Roman opens his mouth, probably more than ready to keep pushing his foolish argument, but gets interrupted by Patton, who has moved to stand between the two.

“Stop it right now, both of you!” he chides, bringing out his dad voice, “Roman, you know how touchy this subject is for Logan, so stop pushing him and try to be a little more tactful next time.”

Roman rolls his eyes, huffing in annoyance as he looks away and his expression morphs into what can only be described as a pout. Logan can’t help but feel a little smug as he watches Patton scold the other. What he doesn’t expect, however, is for the witch to suddenly turn towards him, disappointed expression still in place.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, mister!” Patton continues, finger pointed at Logan’s chest, “I know that you don’t like feelings Lo, but this is honestly getting quite ridiculous.”

Logan glares at the shorter man, a flash of gold glinting in his eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about, Patton.”

“I think you do, Logan,” Patton counters, expression shifting from scolding to something warmer, more understanding, “and I believe it’s time for you to stop running from yourself.”

Logan stares back, stubbornly trying to hold the other’s gaze –honestly, he doesn’t get why Patton keeps insisting on this particular manner. Logan is fine, always has been, and just because he has suddenly formed a bond with some human it doesn’t mean he would be so foolish to-

“You haven’t told him yet, have you?” Patton’s voice reaches Logan’s ears with sharp clarity, causing his thoughts to screech to a halt. “About your true nature, I mean.”

Logan opens his mouth, more than ready to snap at Patton to stop talking about all this nonsense and just leave him be, but once he finally registers Patton’s expression he finds himself stopping on his tracks. Because Patton is looking at him with so much warmth, gaze soft and comforting –like he understands, like he knows exactly what he’s going through. Then Logan sees Patton’s eyes shift subtly towards Roman, who has been silently listening the whole time, and abruptly realizes that yes, of course Patton understands. How could he not?

Logan’s shoulders slump as he feels all of his rage and indignation rush out of him.

“No, I haven’t,” he admits, looking to the side.

“Is there a reason for it?”

“Patton, he’s a human. A mortal who lives his life under the sun, blessed with ignorance of the more twisted and supernatural aspects of our world. If I were to tell him the truth -that I am a vampire, a blood-thirsty, immortal creature of the night- not only would I destroy that innocence forever, but he surely would-” Logan clamps his mouth shut, trying to stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. He doesn’t need to, though.

“You’re scared he’ll leave.” The other finishes for him, a sad smile making its way to his face. Beside them, Roman moves to stand once again beside Patton, a comforting hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “You’re scared that, once you tell him who you really are, he’ll run away and never come back, terrified by something that you cannot alter or change. And you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from it.”

Silently, Logan watches as Roman imperceptibly stiffens at Patton words. The witch simply smiles and covers Roman’s hand with his, turning just slightly to look at him.

It’s okay. We’re okay. Patton’s eyes say, and god, if their little show of affection doesn’t make Logan’s heart twist in something akin to longing.

“How did you do it?” he asks, barely a whisper. “How did you tell him who you really were even though you knew it could have driven him away forever?”

“I trusted him.” Patton smiles, letting his body lean on Roman’s side. “I know how scary it sounds, but you’ve known Virgil for over three years now. Do you really think he would leave you forever if he knew?”

“I may not know him as much as you do,” Roman interjects, attracting Logan’s attention, “but for what it’s worth, I really don’t think he will. It’s obvious he cares about you Teach, and I don’t think you being a vampire will change that.”

Logan looks at the two men standing in front of him –a human and a witch, magic and mundane mixing together in such a seamless, unpredictable way- and sighs, his mouth twitching upwards in a hint of a smile.

“Maybe you’re right.” He admits.

The couple grins, sharing a look before turning back to him. “So, this means you’ll tell him?”

“I’ll think about it.”

One week later, and Logan’s still thinking about it.

Not that he doesn’t trust Virgil. Logically, he knows the chances of him just straight up walking out of his life as soon as he learns the truth are quite slim. And yet, he hesitates, letting their frequent hangouts end without him saying anything.

If only Patton could see him now, he would probably be sporting one of his trademarked Disappointed Dad looks.

“So, you snapped at him?” Virgil asks, smirking as he takes a sip from his coffee, “that’s so out of character of you, Logan.”

Logan feels his face flush, gaze shifting to the side as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He was foolishly denying to acknowledge the rightful connotation of Pluto as a planet. It was my duty as a teacher to correct his flawed statement.”

Virgil raises an eyebrow, visibly amused. “By yelling at the kid, and I quote, Viva la Pluto fuck you?”

“I get really defensive when it comes to astronomy.” Logan concedes.

“That’s quite the understatement if I’ve never heard one!” Virgil snickers, trying –and mostly failing- to keep himself from out-right cackling.

Logan feels his lips twitch upwards, eyes fond as he watches the human laugh –he quite enjoys the times he can get Virgil to act so carefree around him, his smile lighting up his face in a way that leaves Logan breathless every time without fail.

Logan sighs, shaking his head lightly. Virgil is going to be the death of him, he’s sure of it.

Somehow, that thought terrifies him far less than it should.

“Shit!” Virgil suddenly curses, snapping Logan out of his reverie.

“Are you, uh… good, Virgil? Did I use that right?” he asks, bending his head to the side in confusion.

Virgil snorts, stopping his frenzied movements to shake his head in amusement. “Close enough.” He comments, quickly flinging his backpack on his shoulder.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I have a class in less than an hour and if I’m late again the professor is probably going to murder me,” he explains, smiling apologetically.

“Do not worry about it, I understand.” Logan nods, standing up as well. “Our plans for tonight are still in place, I believe?”

Virgil grins, shooting him a thumbs up as he exits the coffee shop. “You betcha, nerd! See you at eight!”

The more their chosen time of meeting approaches, the more Logan starts feeling uneasy.

He doesn’t know the reason, if he has to be honest. Sure, he may or may not be planning to finally talk to Virgil about his…more-than-human nature, let’s say –Roman threatened to trap them both in a really small room if Logan didn’t- but the thought of that causes him to feel nervousness, or even apprehension.

But this, this is a different kind of unease. If Logan had to describe it, he would say it feels like dark heaviness on his shoulders, like vines constricting his very core tighter and tighter as the seconds tick away. It brings back echoes of a past he thought he left behind, of screams and blood and a sick, wide smile Logan’s sure will haunt his nightmares until he draws his last breath.

He hastily shakes his head, snapping out of his thoughts –he won’t let himself get lost in those memories, not now that he has finally managed to move on. More or less, at least.

Logan takes in a shaky breath, fingers moving to fix his tie almost as a second thought –a nervous habit he’s never quite been able to correct. There’s nothing he has to worry about. Virgil will arrive around eight, they’ll settle down on Logan’s couch and they’ll enjoy together the Doctor Who’s new season premiere.

Nothing will happen, he knows that. And yet, the unease doesn’t disappear. It doesn’t disappear while he moves to get his living room set up, or when he goes to his bedroom in order to change into comfier clothes.

When the clock strikes eight fifteen and Virgil –ever-punctual, anxious Virgil, who despise being late like nothing else and never fails to notify him if he does end up getting held back- still hasn’t shown up or sent him a text, Logan knows something is indeed wrong.

He has a bad feeling about this.

Fuck, he’s late.

Virgil sprints down the street, muttering curses through gritted teeth. His photography professor –who had wanted to talk to him for ages about a side project Virgil didn’t want to have anything to do with- had managed to corner him while he was walking out of the library, keeping him from exiting the building until the librarian had basically kicked them out, distracting the man long enough for the anxious student to get away.

And now Virgil is late, his phone dead because he forgot to recharge it. Great. This is fine.

He barely avoids barrelling into another passer-by for the third time in two minutes and fuck it, this is not fine at all.

Virgil briefly pauses and leans with his back on the brick wall of a building, gulping down deep breaths as he tries to fight the anxiety he can feel bubbling in his stomach.

It’s alright, he firmly tells himself, it’s only ten minutes. Logan will understand.

Breathing deeply, Virgil quickly tries to figure out an estimate of the distance between where he is and Logan’s apartment.

“Ten minutes,” he grumbles, hands gripping his backpack’s straps, “I can do this.”

However, just before he can go back to sprinting down the sidewalk while trying to avoid colliding into innocent pedestrians, somebody near him speaks.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” the stranger asks, “but it appears I lost something.”

Virgil looks to his side, annoyed and slightly irritated expression meeting a pair of green eyes framed by perfect red curls. The woman in front of him looks like one of those models posing for the cover of beauty magazines –which, if Virgil wasn’t very much gay and very much in a hurry, would have made him want to at least try to help, but he’s already late and doesn’t want to make Logan wait for him more than strictly necessary.

“I’ sorry,” he starts, already turning around again, “but I’m really late for something and I just can’t help you.”

But before he can even move, a hand shoots out and grabs his arm. “Oh sweetheart, I believe you can.”

All Virgil sees is a pair of golden irises staring back at him, and then everything goes black.

Logan tries to stay put and wait for Virgil, he really does. No need to overreact, after all.

He manages to stop himself for five long, excruciating minutes. Then, all of his resolve gets thrown out of the window. Mind racing, Logan hurries to grab his coat and bolts out of his door, only to find himself face to face with a pair of startled green eyes.

“Roman?” Logan blinks, momentarily confused. From what he knows, the human and Patton had left three days ago to go attend a witches’ gathering that was being organized two towns over, and weren’t set to return for at least five more days. Then why-

“Logan!” Patton cries, approaching them. “Thank god we found you!”

Logan shakes his head. He has no time for this now. “Patton, I am sorry but whatever it is that you have to tell me will have to wait until I can get ahold of Virgil.”

“Wait, the Emo Nightmare is missing?” Roman interjects, eyes widening, “That’s not good.”

“We had arranged to meet up at my house to watch together the new Doctor Who premiere. He’s currently fifteen minutes late, which is very concerning because he’s never late and he never fails to notify me those few times he is.” The vampire explains, before actually registering Roman’s words. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Patton and Roman look at each other, worry and hesitance clear in their eyes. They’re hiding something, he’s sure of it.

“What is going on?” Logan demands, barely stopping himself from openly growling at his two friends. “It is quite obvious that, whatever information you are withholding, both of you believe it might be connected to Virgil’s absence. So tell me. Now.”

“You’re not gonna like it.” Roman warns, expression unusually serious, “Like, at all.”

“Just say it.”

“Caelius is back.” Patton finally reveals. “Emile said he has been spotted almost in all of the towns around here. We came back as soon as he told us.”

Logan freezes, thoughts screeching to a halt as he tries to process Patton’s words. Even after all these years, after all he has done to disappear completely from the radar and finally be able to live a normal life, Caelius has found him –and god if the mere thought of it doesn’t make his blood turn ice cold in his veins, fear knotting his stomach and invading his mind until all he can think of is blood and screams and that sickening grin, that feeling of utter powerlessness he didn’t want to feel ever again-

“You are mine Logan, and always will be. Never forget that.”

Fuck.

“We need to find Virgil. Now.”

When Virgil comes to, the first thing he registers is how fucking cold he is. The second is a head-splitting headache he seems to be suffering from, pounding behind his eyelids with enough force to make him let out a loud, pained groan.

The third thing he registers is the sound of light footsteps approaching, stopping right in front of his face as an all too familiar voice reaches his ears.

“Aw, looks like the boy is finally waking up!”

Virgil’s eyes snap open, immediately meeting a pair of bright green ones staring back at him. He lets out a strangled yelp, memories flooding his brain as he quickly scuttles away from the visibly amused woman –oh fuck he has been kidnapped, what do they want why did they take him he’s gonna die ohygodsomebodyhelp-

“Amelia, stop terrorizing our dear guest.” Another voice interjects, startling Virgil out of his panicking thoughts.

Behind the woman, another person enters the room. He looks rather young, with pale, perfect skin and deep blue eyes surrounded by blonde curls –an angel, something whispers in the back of Virgil’s mind, and he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away as the man approaches them.

“But I didn’t do anything!” the woman –Amelia- exclaims, still grinning as the man stops beside her.

Virgil looks at them, his mind still reeling in fear and confusion, and visibly jumps when the man’s blue eyes suddenly turn to him.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters, studying him in an obvious search for something –what, Virgil has no clue. “Why would Logan be so interested in this human? He looks so... weak.”

That’s when Virgil’s mind completely draws a blank, the sentence replaying over and over in his head as he tries and fails to make sense to the whole situation.

“W-what? How- How do you know Logan?” he stutters, but the two don’t seem to hear him as they keep looking at him –their contemplative, calculating stares unnerve Virgil to no end, the voice in the back of his mind screaming incessantly danger danger danger must get away before-

Suddenly Amelia is standing right in front of him, body bent forward until her face is a few centimeters from Virgil’s. “Maybe it’s his blood?” she wonders, eyes gleaming yellow –why are her eyes yellow I don’t understand somebody help please- “I wouldn’t mind a little sip. Just to check my hypothesis.”

“Just a taste,” Caelius concedes, waving his hand, “he’s no use to me dead.”

The woman grins, sharp canines gleaming in the dimly lit room. Ice cold fear floods Virgil’s veins, every instinct in his head screaming for him to run, get away before something bad happens -but he can’t move, back pressed against the wall and his two captors standing between him and the door –are they even humans? They have fangs and golden eyes and skin so pale they almost seem dead and Virgil doesn’t understand, why did they take him what do they want no no stay away he doesn’t want to die-

Before Virgil can even open his mouth to scream, Amelia is suddenly flying to the other side of the room, colliding with the wall with so much force cracks expand from the point of impact and sagging to the ground with a wordless thump. The other man simply raises an eyebrow, grin widening as he watches the scene unfold.

“Took you long enough, Logan.”

It doesn’t take them long to work out where Virgil is. Patton’s a witch –and quite a strong one at that, with over a century of experience on his shoulders and a member of the Council as his mentor- and a locating spell isn’t difficult to cast. They use a t-shirt Virgil accidentally left behind at Logan’s place during one of their previous hangouts, and once they’ve retrieved a map of the region from the vampire’s study it only takes a few seconds for the spell to work.

Somehow, Logan is not surprised with the location, barely reacting as the pendant points to a point of the map in the middle of nowhere –he knows those coordinates, knows them as he knows his name, and of course Caelius would be there, always a lover for the dramatics.

Because what better place to bring Logan’s beloved –the one obstacle between him and Caelius- than the building where everything started?

Logan glares at Caelius, standing protectively in front of Virgil.

“Caelius.” He calls, blue eyes flashing a furious golden. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

The man laughs, expression full of mirth. “Why, isn’t it obvious? I’m just taking back what is mine.”

“I was never yours in the first place, you self-centered bastard,” Logan growls, forcing himself to ignore Virgil’s whimpering coming from behind him. “Virgil has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, I believe he has everything to do with this.” Caelius purrs, cerulean eyes turning golden as his gaze behind him towards –no, stop it, must keep Virgil safe stop looking at him you filthy monster- “Aren’t I right, Virgil?”

Logan feels it almost immediately, blood turning ice cold in his veins as the sheer strength of Caelius’ power slams into him. It’s a suffocating pressure, like a weight compressing his mind until his grip on reality almost slips away from between his fingers. But this isn’t the first time Logan has been subjected to Caelius’ overwhelming power, and even if it has been decades since he has had to deal with it his instincts don’t fail to kick in, allowing the younger vampire to hold onto his consciousness for dear life.

However, Virgil is a whole different story.

Logan can only watch helplessly as the human stands up, eyes suddenly dull and unfocused, and starts slowly shuffling towards Caelius.

“Exactly as I thought.” The vampire grins, beckoning the boy closer.

“Virgil,” Logan calls, fighting with all of his might Caelius’ influence, “Virgil, you have to fight it!”

He keeps calling and pleading, unable to move and grab the other to stop his advancing steps. But Virgil keeps walking, closer and closer to Caelius’ awaiting hand.

There’s only one thing Logan has yet to try, and even if logically he knows he has next to no chance of success he knows he can’t let Caelius get his hands on the human –HIS human, a voice in Logan’s head roars viciously, something hot and heavy settling in his stomach.

So Logan closes his eyes, taking in a steady breath, and opens.

Them.

Wide.

“Virgil.” He calls, his own magic reaching the other in gentle waves. It’s different from Caelius, whose power is simply overwhelming and paralyzing –Logan’s is more quiet, calculated, hitting the target with accuracy and precision. “Virgil, stop.”

He watches as Virgil’s steps falter, face turning just slightly towards him to show a confused frown –he knows Virgil is there, somewhere, he just has to help him find a way out of Caelius’ control, give him an opening to slip away from the vampire’s vicious grip on his consciousness.

“Virgil, come here,” Logan calls, golden eyes shining with determination as his focus zeroes on the other man –he ignores Caelius’ magic trying to forcefully push his away, grits his teeth and holds his ground with a vengeance.

Seconds pass, tense silence filling the air. Virgil’s body starts shaking, a pained groan escaping his lips as the two vampire’s powers clash and fight all around him. Then, suddenly, he’s staggering backward into Logan’s arms, breath coming out in short, quick gasps –everyone can feel the exact moment Caelius loses his hold over the human, like a rope snapping under too much pressure, loud and clear in their mind.

Logan immediately holds Virgil as close as he can, hand caressing up and down his back as he takes a moment to reassure himself, breathing deeply as he takes in the other’s scent.

“L-Logan-” Virgil whispers, whimpering.

“It’s okay.” Logan murmurs, voice low and reassuring, “You’re okay. I got you.”

“How dare you,” Caelius growls, snapping them out of the moment. “How dare you try and defy me?!”

He’s standing in front of them before they can even process his words. Logan’s instincts immediately kick in, and he turns around so that his back is between Virgil and the incoming blow –whatever Caelius throws at them, he can take. But he won’t let him lift even a finger on Virgil. No more.

However, the hit never comes.

What comes is, actually, Roman’s voice suddenly booming in the room, a yell of “Don’t you dare, you fiend!” followed by the clang of metal and Caelius shout of rage.

When he turns around, Logan finds himself staring at Roman’s back, sword in his hands –the same sword Patton gifted him years ago, the same sword Logan himself taught him how to use- and a very pissed off Caelius growling at them, side dripping with blood.

“You worthless, stupid human, you’re going to pay for this!” the vampire roars, lunging at them with a snarl.

It’s strange, though. Logan remembers Caelius to be a fierce, strong fighter, all quick and fluid movements born from millennia of walking on this Earth. But now his movements seem slower, almost sluggish. Roman has absolutely no problem deflecting the attack, before round-kicking the vampire in the stomach and sending him rolling to the side.

Caelius grunts, landing quite a few feet away from them. He doesn’t get up again.

“Emile enchanted my sword, just before we got back to warn you,” Roman explains, lowering his sword. “He said the spell was made to work specifically on ancient magical creatures like him. Looks like he was right.”

Then he turns around, a weary smile on his face.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

Apparently, going home for them means getting scolded by Patton for a good half an hour, sitting in Logan’s bedroom while the witch heals their few wounds and checks them for any possible injuries.

“Honestly Logan, I get that you wanted to get to Virgil,” Patton says, hand glowing softly as he heals a scrape on the vampire’s temple, “but sprinting into the building by yourself certainly was not the way to go! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Who knows what Caelius would have done to you two if Roman hadn’t found you when he did!”

“You are right Patton,” Logan complies, “but I still do not regret my decision. Had I waited even just a second more, I would have been too late.”

Patton sighs, shaking his head. “Stubborn as ever, I see.” He chuckles, “well, my job here is done. I feel like you two need to have a little talk, so if you need me I’ll be downstairs with Roman.”

He shoots them one last, encouraging smile, before walking out of the room and closing the door with a soft click.

Silence falls. Logan turns his head just slightly, eyes falling on the figure sitting next to him. Virgil stares back, expression unreadable as he raises one eyebrow in question.

“So.”

“So.”

Logan sighs, adjusting himself to be sitting face to face with the other man. “I suppose I owe you an explanation,” he begins, “but first, I need to apologize. It is my fault Caelius targeted you in the first place, therefore putting your life in danger, and I am deeply sorry for that.”

“It’s okay. I mean-” Virgil tells him, before backpedalling in a rush-“it’s not okay, because getting kidnapped is no fun at all and I’ve never felt more scared in my life, but-” he stops for a moment, taking in a slow, steady breath before looking up at Logan with a tentative smile-“I know you, Lo. I know you would never intentionally put me in danger, and I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that, hadn’t it been for me, you would have never been put in danger.”

“I’m okay now, though. You made sure of that.” Virgil points out, before frowning in thought. “What was that dude’s deal with you anyway? He seemed to have some sort of personal vendetta against you or something.”

Logan winces at his words, looking away. “It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

“Alright then. I guess there is no avoiding it.” Logan sighs, “As you probably have already guessed, I am not… human, like you. I am a vampire.”

When Logan risks a quick peek at Virgil’s reaction, he doesn’t look surprised in the slightest. Instead, the man simply raises an eyebrow, muttering “No shit Sherlock” under his breath.

Something in Logan’s chest relaxes a little at that.

“Caelius is the one who turned me, all those years ago.” He resumes, pushing down the memories trying to resurface. Not now. “He tried to make a meal out of me, I fought back, and he decided he wanted to keep me. So, he took me away with him.”

“He turned me and kept me in this big mansion down south –the same one you were brought to, by the way. Years passed, and I finally managed to escape. I wandered around for a while, not really knowing where to go. Then, I met Patton, and here we are.”

Silence falls. Then, Virgil lets out a slow whistle.

“Holy shit Lo.” He breaths out, eyes wide as he processes the load of information, “and to think people assume I’m the one with the tragic backstory.”

Logan lets out a tiny chuckle, shaking his head. “That is one way to put it, I suppose.” Then he looks up at the other, looking genuinely confused. “How are you taking all of this so well? I expected you to freak out –no offense, but this is just not something you hear every day. It is simply not logical for you to be so calm.”

Virgil shrugs. “As I already said, I know you.” He says, a crooked smile on his lips. “You’re still Logan, vampire or not.”

“I… thank you, Virgil. This really means a lot to me.” Logan tells him, expression soft.

Virgil blushes –the vampire has no business looking at him like that, goddamnit, his poor gay heart is gonna explode if he keeps this up- and waves him off, huffing in embarrassment. “Shut up nerd.”

The sit in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company now that the truth is out in the open for both to see. If he has to be honest, Logan feels… free, in a way. Lighter, as if an enormous weight has been lifted from his chest. He mulls it over, before deciding with a smile that he quite likes this new feeling.

Then, a thought strikes him.

“You know what I don’t really understand?” he asks, catching the other’s attention. “How did you manage to actually break out of Caelius influence, back there? Logically, it shouldn’t have been possible.”

Virgil snorts, bumping their shoulders. “Wow Lo, such a vote of confidence for my inner strength.”

Logan rolls his eyes, huffing in amusement. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah yeah, I get it.” Virgil huffs, chuckling. “You were using your power too, though. I felt it. Maybe you were stronger?”

Logan shakes his head, expression growing more puzzled the more he thinks about it. “Caelius is much older and powerful than me. Moreover, since he’s the one that turned me, he’s technically my master.” He explains, “I may have taken him by surprise, but there’s no way my thrall overpowered his.”

Virgil hums in acknowledgment, mulling something in his head as he watches Logan try to find a solution.

“Could it be…” he suddenly speaks up, cheeks strangely pink, “could it be because, while he was forcing me to follow his orders, I actually wanted to come to you?”

“Wait, really?” Logan asks, obviously taken aback. “You had just found out I was not human at all, and therefore had been lying to you for all the three years you have known me. Why would you have trusted me?”

“I trust you with my life Lo, vampire or not,” Virgil says, expression earnest, and no matter how much he searches Logan can’t find a hint of a lie in the other’s eyes.

Distantly, Logan feels his heart skip a beat, blood rushing to his cheeks as he stares at the other.

“Oh.” He murmurs, unable to form anything more coherent.

Virgil chuckles, smiling. “Logan, I would follow you to the ends of this earth if you just asked.” and that’s the moment Logan’s brain screeches to a halt, his last functioning brain cells leaving him with a metaphorical laugh as he tries to process what exactly Virgil might be implying.

“You’re-” he finally says, clearing his throat while trying to will his blush away- “you’re aware that you sound just like Roman, right?”

Virgil bursts out laughing, eyes twinkling in amusement and something else entirely that makes Logan’s heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Shut up, I know.” The human grins, mockingly punching him on the shoulder. “Still, the sentiment stands. Now the question is… would you want me to, Logan?”

That is a question Logan is pretty sure he knows the answer of.

“I think I do.” He murmurs, before leaning down to kiss Virgil’s smile.

Taglist:  @noodlesforlife13 @keithkhoegane @introverted-happiness @virgilmydarkstrangeson@sidesroleplayblog @im-patton @creativity-killed-thekitten @heck-im-lost @adultmorelikeadolt@gayfandomsaremything @thesealwhodraws @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @logicallycrofters

Plus @teacupfulofstarshine bc I know starmom is analogical trash.

[dr-gloom]

To Join You By Your Side

For Halloween! Day 31 of @sanderssidesspook‘s Spook Month!

Prompt: The Big Spook

Fandom: Sander’s Sides

Pairing: Sleepxiety

Words: 3,193

Summary: This was by far the scariest thing Virgil has ever done in his life. He’s planned for this day for months, put up with things he never would have before, just to see this day happen. All for Remy. 

Tags/Warnings: flashbacks, cute nerds, self deprecation, halloween festivities, I’m trying to tag this without giving anything away, Human AU

Enjoy!

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@chemically-imbalanced-romance

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@punsterterry

Virgil was scared. No, scratch that, he was terrified. The walls were closing in, looming high above him. Shadows were slithering from every corner and crevice to swallow him up. He pulls at the cuffs of his costume - because that’s all this was, a costume - nervously. He’d been planning this for months. Dozens of phone calls, meetings, and compromises to make this happen. All the near-heart-attacks from listening to the phone ring just to hear it be answered and that split second of silence that made his breathing stop.

Virgil paced his living room anxiously, wearing a path into the old, dingy carpet. He listened to the sound of the phone ringing, heart beating a little too quickly and his anxiety ratcheting up with every pause between ringing. Finally, finally- the call was answered. There was silence for a split second, and then-

“Jack and Jill’s Flower Garden, how may I help you?”

Virgil swallowed nervously. “Ah, yeah, I uh- I need to order two dozen bouquets of uh…” He looks at the small list in his hand, the paper crumpled from his anxious fidgeting. “Double Orange Begonias, Orange Ranunculus Victoria, and Eggplant Calla Lilies.”

“Can I get an address for delivery?”

Virgil gives them the address and hangs up, his heart hammering in his chest. God, he hated phone calls. He has to sit on the carpet and practice his breathing exercise for a few minutes before he’s calm enough.

He must’ve just debated cancelling this whole thing a dozen times, but it wasn’t about him, and he would never do that. Not to Remy, who’d been looking forward to this so much (if it wasn’t for the fact that he was so busy, he’d be the one planning this).

Because today wasn’t just about him. Today was about the both of them. Virgil had searched for the perfect place to pull this off for months, searched for just the right things to make sure this went perfectly. Practicing his lines over and over and over again until he could recite them in his sleep. Then he worried that he had said them in his sleep and ruined everything. Ruined the surprise. Someone knocked on the door and he jumped, his heart skipping a beat. Patton opened the door sheepishly and smiled at Virgil. “Hey kiddo, you ready?”

Patton was wearing a nice black suit and light blue tie, fangs just barely poking past his lips, only really visible when he smiled.

Virgil nodded, tugging on his cuffs one last time before leaving his impromptu dressing room and taking his place. He looked around the room. Bouquets are placed strategically around the room (Logan had been adamant about finding the perfect balance). Spider’s webs are draped over every piece of furniture. Orange and black accents are placed around the room, ribbon running along the walkway. This was going to be the scariest thing he’d ever done.

Today was Virgil’s wedding.

He stood at the front of the church (he’d been hesitant about having their wedding in a church since neither of them were religious, but Remy promised it was ironic as hell, especially since their wedding was on Halloween) next to the minister, anxiously playing with the cufflinks on his jacket. He was never one for suits, because he didn’t like how constricting they felt, but he and Remy had spent a week making little changes to their outfits as a sort of compromise. Virgil was sort of a Frankenstein’s monster kind of thing (closer to Sally, really), with purple plaid patches sewn onto the suit and the odd bunch of fake leaves sticking out between seams and folds in the fabric. He used liquid latex and fake stitching to make it look like he was sewn together. Remy was supposed to be a zombie.

Patton, Logan, Roman, sat in the front row, giving Virgil the odd encouraging smile or nod when he’d glance their way. He gives them a shaky smile, adjusting a fake leaf that keeps tickling his neck. Declan, who stands next to him as his best man, squeezes his shoulder. A more suspenseful version of The Wedding March starts up, and Virgil stiffens. Shit, it’s starting. Shit shit shit shit. Virgil stands at attention, looking over towards the doors. Everyone stands and looks as well.

Remy enters in his torn and dirtied suit, face makeup making his skin look dead and decaying, one lense of his (spare) shades shattered to reveal a sunken-in eye. Virgil had to hand it to Remy, he really knew his makeup. He briefly lost himself in his fiancé, forgetting that he was supposed to be scared out of his mind. It wasn’t until Remy was almost next to him that he remembered that this was a wedding and he was getting married oh god what was Remy doing marrying him?

The music stops, everyone sits, and the minister smiles kindly at the room. “Hello all. Shall we begin?” With a slightly jerky nod from Virgil and a smirk from Remy, he starts. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union between two souls in a bond of holy matrimony...”

Virgil looks over Remy’s face, taking in the liquid latex deforming his features and making him look dead and decayed. He thinks about the first time they met.

Virgil liked to come to the park at night when he was feeling overwhelmed. It was calm, quiet, and it held a strange air of other-worldness that made you feel like you were the only living being left. He liked that feeling when the world has become too much (the rest of the time? Not so much). He was sitting on one of the park’s benches, facing the empty soccer fields with his headphones over his ears, listening to Twenty One Pilots. In his opinion, they perfectly captured that feeling you got from witnessing an abandoned swing set. The perfect mood music for when your mind was spiralling and you needed it to stop. He pulled himself out of his thoughts to focus on the lyrics.

“Though I'm weak

Beaten down

I'll slip away

Into the sound

The ghost of you

Is close to me

I'm inside out

You're underneath”

Virgil saw something out of the corner of his eye and tensed up. Oh god, figures. On the one night he just wanted to be alone he’d been found by a park-going serial killer. He was gonna die. They were gonna kill him and he wouldn’t be found until morning and he’d ruin some poor kid’s memory of parks forever. That kid was going to need so much thera-

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped, screaming and ripping his headphones off.

The man puts his hands up, a clear Starbucks cup in one hand. “Whoa, babe, calm-”

“I- I am no one’s babe, fuck you!”

The man takes a step back. “Ooookaaayyyy. Let’s take a deep breath, yeah? I just wanted to ask if you knew where we are right now, because I sure don’t.”

Virgil blinks, going lax and staring at the man with complete confusion. “I… What?”

“I’m so lost right now.”

“You and me both, buddy.”

The man shakes his head. “No, I mean, I have no clue where we are. What park is this?” Virgil looks around. Was this a prank?

“Uh…. Richmont.”

The man just stares at him.

“...By the Cleaver Mall?”

Nothing.

“Do you even live in Randsy?”

The man sighs. “Nope. Treeling.”

Okay, that wasn’t too far, actually, but… “How the hell did you get all the way here without knowing where you’re going?”

He laughs lightly. “I have no idea.”

“...wrote their own vows. Mr. Nocturn will be sharing his first.”

Virgil blinks, bringing himself back to the present moment. Remy smiles, knowing exactly what had just happened. His smile warps the decaying flesh on his face a bit, though he doesn’t seem to notice or care. Virgil smiles back, one of his small, secretive smiles, and Remy finally begins speaking.

“Virge, I never thought that I’d ever meet someone like you. Having you in my life has made me so much happier.” He laughs lightly, taking Virgil’s hands. “You know I get lost a lot, but now I’ll only get lost in you, baby. You’re the ice to my latte, the steam to my green tea, the spice to my pumpkin. I couldn’t live without you, even if I wanted to, and I’m so happy that you said yes, babe.” His voice gets softer, his eyes a little misty. “I want to grow old with you. I want to share the covers on winter nights, be your heater when you get cold, have sappy romantic Lady and the Tramp moments with spaghetti dinners, and watch Nightmare before Christmas every night of October. I want to work with you, to grow with you, to laugh and cry with you, because you’re the reason I try. You’re the reason I can laugh and smile, and see the beauty in the world, as well as the dark. Because even if you consider yourself dark and gloomy, you need the darkness to appreciate the light. You complete me, and I can’t wait to finally start living life with you.”

Remy had tears in his eyes, and he was smiling, but he refused to cry. As he would tell Virgil on any given day, crying would totally ruin his mascara. Virgil didn’t know how he did it; he was certain he’d start crying any second. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was happy or scared, though.

“Are you… Are you sure?”

Remy laughed lightly. “Why would I have asked you to marry me if I wasn’t sure?”

Virgil frowns. “Because I’m… Me.”

“I’m not sure I follow, babe.”

Virgil sighs. “I just… Are you sure you wanna be stuck with me for the rest of our lives? I mean…. I’m gloomy. Depressing. I talk about creepy and weird and depressing shit and I’m always in a crappy mood and half the time I don’t even want to talk or leave the house.”

Remy smiles at him sadly. “Babe, I love you because of your faults, not in spite of them.”

“But… how?” How could Remy love the parts of him that even he didn’t like? The parts he wished he could change, or just get rid of? It didn’t make any sense.

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Remy said, as if he was reading Virgil’s mind. “Feelings hardly ever really make sense, Virge. You taught me that, remember? You don’t have to understand where they come from or why they’re there to be able to accept them. Just like I don’t need to understand my love for you to know that it’s real.”

Virgil could feel the tears building on his lashes. He loved Remy so much, but he was afraid of trapping the other in a marriage he would regret. Virgil knew he wasn’t an easy person to get along with. He knew that eventually Remy would get sick of him, and he couldn’t stand the thought of that. But god, he was selfish. He wanted to know what it’d be like to wake up next to the man he loved and be able to say “my husband” when talking to friends or co-workers. Even if it hurt them both in the long run, he desperately wanted something to hold on to.

Virgil blinked the memory from his vision, the perfect, smiling face of his fiancé being replaced with the grey and decaying version with tears in his eyes. Virgil blinked again and twin tears fell down his cheeks. He hurried to wipe them away, giving a weak, shaky laugh. Their friends watch on with loving smiles as Remy takes his hands and kisses his cheeks where his tears once sat. Virgil takes a few deep breaths, the first one shaky, and looks up at Remy. Remy nods, giving him an encouraging smile. Virgil swallows.

This wasn’t about just him, this was for Remy, too.

“Remy, you’re the only person who doesn’t talk over me or ignore me or get mad and persistent when I disagree. I love that we can talk about anything without losing our love. You appreciate me and I appreciate you, too. I want to spend my life taking care of you and loving you and making you happy, you adorable, fabulous cutie. Thank you for loving me.”

To someone outside of the relationship, Virgil’s vows might sound lackluster. They might sound like he really didn’t care. But Remy knew better. He knew Virgil, and he knew all the things that went unsaid in the way his voice shook and the shine in his eyes. Remy knew just how much love went unspoken behind those words, because his Virgil had never been one for long, rambling soliloquies. Virgil was a man of few words, and if you didn’t know him, you might miss the real meaning.

Thank you for always being there for me, for listening to me. Thank you for always trying to understand me, even when you don’t. Thank you for trying. For never giving up. Thank you for trusting me the way I trust you. I love you, so much, more than words can say, and it means so much to me that you feel the same. I want to always be there for you, to take care of you and love you and hold you when you need me, or even when you don’t but you still want me. I’d do anything to make you happy, just the way you’ve made me happy. I want to make you the happiest man in the world, because that’s what you deserve. Thank you, for everything.

Remy’s tears finally spilled over, pooling in the crevices of the latex on his skin. He was always one for preserving your makeup, but this was his special day and if anyone expected him not to cry then they could shove it where the sun don’t shine. Remy’s smile grew and he squeezed Virgil’s hands, letting his love know that he got the message. He understood, and he loved him, so very much.

The priest smiled warmly, looking to Remy once again. "Remington Bartholomew Nocturn-” Virgil snorted. Remy grimaced. Why did they include his middle name? So old-school. “-do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"  

Remy nods, looking right into Virgil’s eyes with rarely-seen seriousness. “I do.”

The priest nods and looks at Virgil. “And do you, Virgil Andrew Shae, take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Virgil nods emphatically, more tears falling. His voice cracks as he says, “I do.” He gives Remy a shaky smile, squeezing his hands.

The priest looks at Remy. “Repeat after me.” Remy nods.  “I, Remy, take you, Virgil,”

Remy smiles, feeling a little silly. He quickly schools his expression. “I, Remy, take you, Virgil.”

“To be my husband,”

“To be my husband,” A small laugh escapes him. This was really happening. He was really marrying the love of his life.

“To have and to hold,”

“To have and to hold,”

“From this day forward,”

“From this day forward,”

“For better, for worse,”

“For better, for worse,”

“For richer, for poorer,”

“For richer, for poorer,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“To love and to cherish,”

“To love and to cherish,”

“Till death do us part.”

“Til death do us part.” Remy grinned broadly. Virgil rolled his eyes.

The priest has Virgil repeat the vows. “I, Virgil, take you, Remy,”

Virgil bites his lip. “I, Virgil, take you, Remy,”

“To be my husband,”

“To be my husband,”

“To have and to hold,”

“To have and to hold,”

“From this day forward,”

“From this day forward,”

“For better, for worse,”

“For better, for worse,”

“For richer, for poorer,”

“For richer, for poorer,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“In sickness and in health,” God, Remy always was the worst bitcher when he got a cold though.

“To love and to cherish,”

“To love and to cherish,”

“Till death do us part.”

“Til death do us part.” Virgil’s voice comes out choked. Old doubts reared their head; what if he woke up tomorrow and realized this was all a mistake? Or in a year? Five years? Ten?

Remy squeezed his hands, pulling him out of his mind. Virgil looks up at him and sees him mouth ‘I love you’. Virgil smiles and mouths it back, wishing he could just kiss this dumb nerd’s face already. God, he really didn’t deserve him.

“Now, can whomever has the rings step forward and present them to the couple?”

Declan moves forward with the small pillow, holding it out for the pair. Virgil and Declan share a smile, Virgil’s eyes tracing over the sloppily-wrapped, dingy bandages covering his friend from head to foot. Of course he’d be a mummy, why not. He turns back to Remy, fingering the ring in his hand. The metal feels cold, weighted, oppressive-

No. It felt like a promise. A promise to always be there, to always love one another. Virgil smiles.

“Now, Remy, please place the ring on Virgil’s left ring finger and repeat after me: I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

Remy grins, taking Virgil’s left hand and slipping the plain silver band onto his ring finger, making eye contact with him and saying, "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

“Now Virgil. Place the ring on Remy’s left ring finger and repeat after me: I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

Virgil took Remy’s left hand in his own shaky one, slipping a plain gold band onto his ring finger and saying, "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

The priest nods. “Please join hands.” Remy and Virgil take each other’s hands, smiling widely. They know what comes next. "By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the State of Florida, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.”

Remy pulls Virgil close, kissing him deeply. Virgil closes his eyes and melts into it as his friends and family shoot to their feet, all clapping (and in Patton’s case, cheering loudly. Very loudly). They finally pull away after a few seconds, turning to face their loved ones with joined hands. The priest holds his arms out, smiling broadly.

“May I now present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Shae-Nocturn.”

The reason I wrote a wedding is because, let’s be honest, getting married is one of the scariest things you can do. Also, this is a tribute to mine and my hubby’s Halloween wedding today! He’s the Virgil to my Remy. I love him so much <3

Their vows are actually the vows we wrote, so I had a lot of fun with all of this haha. I hope you all enjoyed this just as much as me. Though October may be over, the adventure never will be. Keep checking in to see what other cool stuff I’m working on! Thank you all so much for the support <3

[five-hour-anxiety]

CREEPY HAUNTED HOUSE TOUR: DON'T FOLLOW US IN 👻💀👽😦😈 | The Theory of Real-Activity | LOGAN FOUND A BODY YOU GUYS

@zerogettie  @spacevirgil  @tree4life25 @thebiggestnaturaldisaster@pailettehazel @jordandobbertin @thecityofthefireflies @the-fabulous-kimball @azuranightsong @virmillion @erlenmeyertrash @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch  @the-sanders-sides @punch-you-with-friendship @captaincantatrice @clovenpinetree @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @aplaceinthevoid @zennyo

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: panic attacks, arguments, haunted houses, talk of demons

Pairing: platonic analogical

Summary: Logan and Virgil run a vlog together, and have decided to film in a haunted house.

“Virgil, for the last time, ghosts aren’t real.”

“Yes, I know that! You know that! Roman and Patton don’t, though, so we need to go ‘ghost hunting’ to prove it once and for all!”

 “I understand where you are coming from, but do we really need to do this? There must be a better approach to the issue – one that will not cost as much and save us the tour of a condemned building.”

 “Oh, that’s hilarious – you think I want to step foot in there? My anxiety is spiked at the thought of what could go wrong on the way out there, much less once we actually go in.” Virgil sighed and ran his hands down his face. His grape colored bangs fell back into place, and he blew on them in an annoyed manner. “Unfortunately, Roman has access to our Twitter and already made a poll.”

  “You mean to tell me-”

 “Yep. The people want a ghost busting episode.”

 “Why on Earth did I give him the password for the account? What was I thinking?” Logan brought his tie up to his mouth, and Virgil strained to hear the muffled curses over the mouthful of cotton.

“Roman basically just challenged you to a giant game of chicken – a public one, and are you really gonna let him win that easy?”

 “Grammar, Virgil, but you have a point. I cannot let that day-dreaming ditz best me. Clear your weekend schedule, we are going on a… what did you call it? Spirit pursuit?”

 “Okay, first – I have no weekend plans as that would require having more than three friends, and two – it’s a ghost hunt so unless you want me to meme the shit out of you again, never call this a spirit pursuit again.”

 “Oh, please, our audience does not need another joke – it’s bad enough you got everyone and their cousin to call the video blog ‘The Theory of Real-Activity” instead of its official name.”

  “Look, that’s better than ‘VirgeofDiscovery’, and it’s a vlog Logan stop trying to sound smart for once in your life.”

***

“I think that I saw this on Buzzfeed Unsolved, once. Just put the flashlight down and ask… something… to turn it on.”

“You know this won’t work, right?” The camera’s mic picks up Logan, who was exploring another room. “And it’s Buzzfeed, why were you watching that garbage?”

“Because I love Shane Madej, the only perfect human.” The camera swings upward so that we see Virgil’s face, and he points at the lens. “You can all quote me on that – make sure he knows that Virge from The Theory of Real-Activity loves his work.”

“Oh my God, Virgil, are you using our video blog in a sad attempt to get your internet crush to notice you?”

 “I-No! It’s a squish! And stop calling it a video blog!”

“If I were as childish as Patton, I would begin to sing one of those schoolyard chants about you and Mr. Madej sitting in a tree.”

“Well, gee, thanks for-”

“I am going to rap it instead.”

 “LOGAN, I SWEAR TO GOD.”

“Virgil and Shane, sitting in-” The camera stops recording.

***

 “Alright, do we have everything we need? My bag has a portable charger, extra batteries, and some water bottles as well as the camera I plan to use.”

“I have the salt.”

 “Virgil, didn’t we agree that ghosts aren’t real?”

 “Yes, but you can never be too safe. Besides – Patton wouldn’t let me leave without it, so now we have a pound of salt.” Virgil shook it around and shimmied. Logan groaned, and reached for the other’s bag, looking to see if anything else was in there.

 “Oh, I see you have a first aid kit – that’s a good addition. You also have the snacks, flashlights, and a camera but I don’t see your stress ball? Are you sure you wish to go without?”

“No worries, man, I got it in the car.”

“Why is it in your car?”

 “Roman had to drive me to my therapy session, and the chariot-”

 “You mean that disgusting minivan?”

 “Yeah, the chariot. Anyway, I have it in there because Roman was driving.”

Logan frowned at the thought, knowing that the man often bragged about having a lead foot while driving. Virgil just shrugged and hoisted his bag over his shoulder, shaking the salt container as he went out the door.

 “Hey, we both made it to the office in one piece, it’s all good. Moving on, we should probably do the intro before we leave the house. Get at least one shot with decent lighting.”

“Ah, yes, that is a good idea – do you wish to hold the camera or should I?” Logan locked the door behind him, making sure the spare key hadn’t been moved in case he misplaced his set.

“I’ll film, whenever you try to do anything in selfie mode you trim off half our heads.” Virgil threw his bag in the trunk and moved over to the passenger side door.

 “Why is it whenever we go anywhere in i car you refuse to drive, Virgil?”

 “If you didn’t leave your car at the university this weekend, we would’ve taken yours. And driving makes me anxious.”

 “Then why do you own a car?” It was a question Logan asked frequently, and never got a satisfying answer to.

 “I have a car because I’m too lazy to skateboard everywhere.”

  Logan rolled his eyes, and slipped into the car, taking the keys from the lanky man. He tied his hair back into a ponytail and motioned to Virgil to start filming.

 “Sup everyone, we still need an official video intro so keep sending in ideas. And I’m sure that you read the title, so y’all know we’re going on a ghost hunt today.”

 “Please, Virgil, don’t make it a clickbait title. Please don’t hurt me like that.”

 “I do what I want, nerd.” Logan groaned and started the engine as Virgil continued to talk, only interrupting to correct the brand name and to offer his stance when Virgil asked if he believed in ghosts. Despite his easy tone, though, Virgil seemed tense and his shoulders were drawn up close.

 The drive was by no means a long one, but by the time they finally reached the old house, Virgil had somehow managed to go through his entire playlist, having skipped each song after one or two measures. Logan found it annoying but said nothing, as he could see Virgil gripping his stress ball out of the corner of his eye.

This wouldn’t end well.

***

 “Logan, Logan it turned the flashlight on please, please tell me there’s a logical explanation for that!”

“I don’t know! Maybe it’s a faulty battery, or… or the switch isn’t fully on so it’s flipping between its off and on mode!”

 “OH MY GOD IT’S MOVING!”

 There’s a high-pitched scream, and the sound of footsteps retreating. The recording cuts to Virgil’s camera and shows Logan sprinting away as fast as he can.

 “YOU COWARD, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! LOGAN!”

***

 “So, this is the place – leave it to Roman to pick a fucking mansion.”

 “Yes, well, I would expect no less from him. The Victorian style is quite breathtaking, despite it’s less than perfect condition.” Logan was leaning against the car, cleaning his glasses. Virgil shifted from foot to foot and fiddled with the straps on his bag.

“Do we really have to go in? We could just tell Roman there was like, a cop here or something, and he of all people should know that trespassing on private property doesn’t end well.”

 “I do not believe breaking and entering the theatre to steal a prince costume is quite the same, Virgil, and Roman would find that story compelling. No, we would have to mention that the officer was angered by our intent to enter a condemned area – we would at least have Patton on our side with that.”

 “Please don’t remind me of how unsafe this is. Not while I’m holding the car keys.”

 “You won’t drive anywhere.”

“At this point, self-preservation would let me do anything.” Virgil sighed and threw the keys at Logan. “Just hold on to these – don’t think you want me driving off without ya.”

 Logan hummed in agreement, pocketing the keys as he walked towards the front door. By the time he reached the porch, he looked back to Virgil who still hadn’t moved. Logan gestured towards the door.

 “Okay! Fine! But if something happens, this is all on you and your ego!”

 “If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to come here.”

 “Well, I changed my mind. C’mon, let’s just get this over with. Camera’s rolling.”

***

 “Logan, this isn’t funny!” The camera picks up a breeze from Virgil’s jacket as he sprints in the direction he thinks Logan went, his cries ignored.

The camera shifts suddenly, and we come face to face with the man himself. Virgil had stopped running and is standing in the front room.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I was back in Logan’s basement listening to him rant about Mothman again.” He sighs, putting his free hand behind his head. “I’d rather listen to him confess his undying love for the thing than be here, choking on dust.

 “But! Instead, I let Roman win – which, by saying that, I feel nauseous – and now we’re here running around a death maze. There’s a ton of rusty nails and if we get cut on those we aren’t gonna get to a hospital in time. I think I saw a bat earlier? And where there’s bats, there’s disease-carrying mosquitoes. Not to mention those jacked up stairs.” The camera focuses on a flight of rotted stairs, the floorboards broken and, in some spots, missing altogether.

 “Yeah, stairs aren’t supposed to be bouncy. I’m just-I’m just gonna call Patton and see if he knows what to do from here.”

***

“I think there’s more dust in here than in Aunt Patty’s attic, and that’s saying something.”

 The house was older than anything the two had ever seen, and there was a fine film of filth covering every available surface. Logan couldn’t help but notice the numerous cobwebs and think of Patton – specifically, how much the man would hate being around so many.

  “Hey, do you, uh…” Virgil moved his flashlight over to one of the webs and stuttered out a few more false starts. “Do you think any of the spiders who made those things are, like, poisonous?”

 “If there are any venomous spiders, they will not bite you unless you give them a reason. They cannot eat you, so there is no purpose in wasting their venom on a large creature like you.” This seemed to calm the taller man down, and Logan moved over to the staircase.

 “Hey, don’t go up those, nerd, I already checked them. They’re not safe – the wood’s so rotted it’s squishy and soft.” Logan nodded and made a mental note to locate a different way upstairs.

The two continued to look around for a while longer, not finding anything remotely interesting. After about half an hour of quiet observation, Virgil suggested they started filming, claiming that the sooner they wrapped this up, the sooner they could drive away and never come back.

 “Salutations, class-”

“Logan, you’re boring.”

 “I am talking like I normally do, Virgil, how else should I speak? Like Roman, perhaps?”

 “God, no, please. Anything but that.”

“Well, in that case – greetings one and all! We’ve finally arrived at our grand destination and have been parading around the grounds for a few hours!”

 “I will throw this salt at you.”

 “Little grains of salt are no match for a prin- oof!”

 “I told you I would.”

 “You threw the entire container at me! Like a savage!”

 “What, you can pretend to Roman and I can’t?”

***

“Okay, so calling Patton was a bust. He told me to use the salt like a weapon and I had to tell him I already chucked it at Logan’s face.” Virgil snickers, running a finger under his nose. “That was the best thing to happen today if I’m being honest. Pat didn’t really appreciate it, though.

“Roman was also a wasted call – apparently he’s at some audition and when he answered, well, he just started screaming about newspapers.” Virgil pauses, and we hear something shatter off-screen.

“H-Hello? Demons?” The camera slowly pans across the room, almost making a full circle as even more thumps can be heard. Before it can finish, Virgil screams and drops the camera.

The screen is filled with static.

***

It had been about two hours, and in that time Logan had somehow managed to: find a way upstairs, provoke something into turning that flashlight on, proceed to run upstairs, get lost, and find a new respect for supernatural beliefs.

 “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I believe in ghosts now.” His words echoed around the attic, unheard by anyone but him and perhaps the mouse he saw earlier. At least, he hoped that’s what it was. He couldn’t stand the thought of sharing space with a rat.

 “I believe in ghosts, so can we stop playing this juvenile game? How on Earth do I get back downstairs?” He waited for an answer as the logical part of his brain scolded him for speaking to thin air.

 He didn’t get one.

“This is ridiculous, I should know better.” He paused and listened again. “If I change my mind and say ghost are not real, will one of you tell me how to get back downstairs?” Logan removed his glasses and began to pace the room. The amount of dirt that had gathered on his frames was astounding – perhaps he had stumbled through a cobweb in his hasty exit.

“Well, what would Patton do in this situation? At present, he may make a joke about his poor eyesight and lack of- ow!” As he spoke, Logan ran into an old china cabinet – it didn’t fall, but he still held his breath as it swayed back and forth.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” Logan whispered, moving to the front to see if anything was inside. He found a few plates and teacups, though none were particularly impressive. If he were Roman or Patton he may have found the painted flowers beautiful, but he wasn’t, and he didn’t. The maroon one rimmed in gold paint did remind him of a set Roman owned, however, and made a mental note to come back for it if there was time.

But first, he had to find his way downstairs and reunite with Virgil.

***

“So, as you may have seen – though I can’t be sure because obviously, I do not know how this will be edited – I was forced to make a hasty, yet calm, retreat from the study.”

The screen cuts to a replay of Logan fleeing the room, and trombones play as he screams. Text pops up and it says “logan lies” in comic sans.

“After my exit, I managed to find my way upstairs and now I am unsure how to get down – much like a cat climbing a tree. But I did stumble across a cabinet full of teacups that I think a friend of mine would enjoy. I have also concluded that there are too many mothballs in this house and I will not cross meeting the Mothman off my bucket list today.”

Logan crosses the room as he paces, chewing on his lip in between sentences. “Despite my own disappointment, I find myself upset the most over being separated from Virgil. I do not believe he is well – I am ashamed to admit that I have only now realized he was suppressing a panic attack as we drove out here.

“To be quite honest, camera, there is a very good chance this footage won’t be posted online. It depends on how Virgil is doing and whether he is okay with releasing footage taken of him during an atta-”

Logan trips and falls into the china cabinet once more, a plate shattering upon impact. The camera swings around to show the floor and a trap door that was slightly ajar. A ladder falls from the floor, designed to be hidden when not in use.

“Well, here is my way down. This ladder does not look up to code,” He steps down on a rung, testing his weight, “but it should hold long enough for me to get down.”  He begins his descent but stops suddenly. Logan moves over to the cabinet and pulls out a teacup, placing it carefully in his bag. His footsteps are heavy and echo as he travels down the ladder.

At the bottom, he screams out Virgil’s name.

 ***

  “Virgil! Virgil, can you hear me?”

Logan shook him hard, but he got no response.

 “Virgil, please, you need to get up. I need to know you are okay.” Logan had spotted him collapsed in the middle of the room and jumped down the ladder as soon as he could, forgoing the last four rungs and sliding over to where Virgil lay.

“Mm, not so loud Logan. My ears are ringing.”

 “Well, I expected that. You must have hit your head when you collapsed – can you tell me if I sound muffled as if I were underwater?”

 “No, everything’s just beyond loud.” Virgil winced as he sat up, Logan taking note of where he grabbed his head.  “Logan, are you okay? You’re crying!”

 A quick swipe at his eye revealed that a few tears had formed and escaped.

 “Well, of course – I am not without a heart, Virgil. The sight of you sprawled out like that was… immensely alarming, to say the very least.” Logan’s breath shuddered, and a few minutes of silence passed between the two, interrupted by an occasional hum from Virgil.

 “The ringing is gone.” The silence was broken, and with its absence came Logan’s ability to breath deeply.

 “That is wonderful, Virgil.” Logan stood up and dusted his jeans off before offering a hand to the other man. “May I ask what circumstances led to you losing consciousness?”

“I don’t know.” Virgil kicks at the floor. “So, don’t ask.”

 “Well, may I share some theories I have developed?”

“Knock yourself out.” Logan winced at the phrase, and Virgil mumbled an apology as he collected his equipment.

 “Virgil, I knew you were edging toward a panic attack on the way here – so I would like to start by offering a sincere apology for not saying anything sooner.”

    “Don’t. I didn’t tell you, so it’s my fault. I just didn’t want you to worry too much – or to turn around. I know Roman would have given you a hard time if we didn’t film an episode here, so I figured I would just deal.”

 “As I have told you many times, there is no ‘dealing’ with these situations alone in our friendship. Regardless, I knew you were not okay and didn’t say anything.”

 “God, Logan, can’t you let me blame myself for once? At least let me share the blame.”

“Fine, we shall share at your insistence. Moving on, I believe the building panic caused you to experience an irregular breathing pattern. I deduce that the lack of oxygen led to you losing-”

“No. You’re wrong.”

 “I beg your pardon? You just told said you did not know what happened how can you say I am wrong?”

 “Because it’s embarrassing, okay?! Damnit, Logan, it’s embarrassing how bad this attack was and how ridiculous my shit brain makes me react.” Virgil strode away, and out of the room, calling over his shoulder.

“Just help me film some stuff so people don’t know that the passing out act was real. I’ll lay down over there, and just… I dunno we’ll improvise.”

“Is it wise to publish this footage? Roman and his teasing be damned, it is more important that you are okay, Virgil! These cameras likely have footage of you panicking and us arguing! Are a few views really worth it?”

“Yes, because I wanted this episode! I put the poll on Twitter, not Roman, okay? So please, let’s film something stupid, make the whole thing look staged, and leave.”

 “Virgil-”

 “Please, Logan.”

 “No.” Logan crossed his arms and stood up straight. He was taller than Virgil, and his glare was cold enough to give Virgil goosebumps.

 “I’m sorry, ‘no’? Oh, so now you say no! Not when I asked to come here, not when I asked for demons to turn a flashlight, not when-”

“Virgil, stop this. You are behaving in an immature manner and this needs to stop. How was I supposed to know that you wanted me to tell you ‘no’? I am not a mind reader, so you cannot blame your poor communication skills on my inability to instantly know what you want.”

Virgil said nothing. He glared at Logan and sat down on the floor, eventually inviting him to do the same. They sat there for a while, as both needed time to calm down before speaking.

 After what felt like an eternity later, Virgil finally spoke up.

“I’m gonna start, but you need to let me finish before you cut in, okay?” Logan nodded, and Virgil took a deep breath. “I wanted to film at a haunted house because I knew we would get way more views than we normally do.

 “I thought, hey! More views means more add revenue – and yes, I know it’s not a lot – but with that extra money, we could start building up the funds to rent an apartment. I’m sick of living with my parents, Logan, and I know you are too.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Virgil, but I would rather endure a few more years with them than have you hurting for the sake of loose change.”

 “Yeah, well. What’s done is done, I guess.” Virgil sighed and leaned over on Logan. “I lied, you know. I do know why I passed out earlier.” He sighed and buried his nose into Logan’s shoulder.

“I will not deny that I want to know why, Virgil, but I do not want you to share if you are uncomfortable.”

 “Heh, well, maybe you’ll learn something new – did you know that anxiety can make you see hallucinations? Specifically, when the fight or flight stuff kicks in?” Logan raises an eyebrow but remains silent. “When the, uh, the – instinct, for lack of better word – kicks in, your pupils dilate.

 “And when that happens, the sudden light change can cause a person – like me – to see shadows and figures at the edge of my vision.”

 “Fascinating – but I assume this is a rare situation and does not happen to you often?”

“No, it doesn’t. But it did when… did you break something upstairs? Because something shattered, there was a lot of thumping, and then they just- appeared. I think that made me panic even more, and then yes – the lack of oxygen probably did the rest.”

“Ah, yes, I fell into a cabinet of china, and I believe a plate was shattered. I apologize for my involvement.”

“Nah, no worries about that. It was just shoddy circumstances. And,” Virgil looked up, offering a weak grin to Logan, “As cheesy as it sounds, we are probably a bit closer than we were before this whole trip.”

“You are right, that is extremely cliché. I appreciate the sentiment, however, despite how infuriating your statement is. Shall we film the ending of this video, now?”

Virgil snorted, pushing himself up using Logan’s shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s this thing wrapped up.”

 ***

  “Virgil! Virgil, please get up!” Logan is frantically shaking Virgil’s shoulder, his voice wobbly. The camera has been left on after being discarded in a hurry.

“Logan… Logan no, don’t- don’t go in the closet.”

 “I spent ten years in the closet, I have no intention of going back in.” Logan sniffs as he speaks, and Virgil gasps awake, shooting upward.

“Huh? Wait, what happened? …Why would you go back in the closet?”              

 “You said not to go in there – what happened to you?”

 “I don’t- I don’t remember. There was a- I think I saw something, Logan. A shadow, maybe?”

 “You must have seen my shadow as I came down the ladder.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Virgil pauses and stares at a spot on the wall behind Logan. “Where is the ladder you came down?”

 “To your left.” Logan gestures with his head as he hoists Virgil to his feet.

 “That means it couldn’t have been your shadow. The light wouldn’t have hit you correctly to cast a shadow over there.” Virgil points to a closet off to the side of the ladder. “Besides, the shadow didn’t look… well not to be cliché, but it didn’t look human.”

“Preposterous.” Logan has moved over to the camera, and the screen goes black as he picks it up. A few moments later, it’s aimed at Virgil as he talks about what he saw in detail.

“…and it had, well they weren’t horns per say, but they were definitely not something that’s on your head, nerd. But, whatever,” Virgil rolls his eyes, “I can tell you don’t believe me. Let’s just get out of here.”

  Logan hums in agreement, and the screen goes black.

 ***

  “Goodbye, murder house, see you never!”

 “Well, this footage is unusable.”

 “Wait, why?”

 “I am not ending the video with you flipping off an old house.” Logan sighed and turned the camera off. Virgil pouted and turned to finish packing the equipment into his car.

“Hey, I know what I’mma call this video. ‘Logan finds a body’!” Virgil spread his arms out in emphasis, narrowly missing Logan’s face in the process.

 “That is absolutely morbid, Virgil, and uncharacteristically short.” Logan shut the trunk with a slam and fished the keys out of his bag as Virgil moved to the front seat.

 “Yeah, no, it’ll have emojis in it, the vlog title of course, and-”

  “By chance, will it be the proper title?” The car started with a roar, and the two were met with a blast of warm air. Virgil scrambled to open his window and Logan quickly shut off the air flow. “Because the channel is called ‘VergeofDiscovery’, not the childish pun Patton came up with.”

 “The Theory of Real-Activity is an amazing name, and I will fight you on this. You’re just jealous that you didn’t come up with it.”

 “Falsehood!”

 “Keep telling yourself that, nerd. Pass me the aux cord.”

The drive home was lighter than the last one – Virgil never once changed the music and the two could be heard screaming along as they flew down the road. The stress ball remained in the cup holder, untouched until the next big adventure.