#healthy anxciet

[vintage-squid]

Threading Our Future

Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.

But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.

A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!

Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus  Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together  Word count: 10 363 

----- 

Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.

Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)

He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.

Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.

Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.

With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.

-----

Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.

At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.

Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.

“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”

Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.

“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”

Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”

“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”

Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”

“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”

There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”

A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”

Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.

“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”

When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.

“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.

Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.

Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.

-----

Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.

Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.

At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.

-----

Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.

Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.

In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!

Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.

Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.

“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”

“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.

“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.

“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”

As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”

At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.

-----

Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.

It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.

Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!

Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.

-----

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?

“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”

Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.

-----

When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.

Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.

At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.

Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.

“Welcome.”

Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.

“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.

There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”

“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”

“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”

“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”

“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”

“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”

Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.

Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.

The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.

-----

Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.

The door opened.

Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.

“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.

“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”

It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.

“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”

“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”

Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.

“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.

“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”

Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”

"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”

“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.

“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”

Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”

“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”

Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.

“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”

“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.

“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”

“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”

“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”

As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.

Why then had Janus?

“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”

Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”

“I - you -”

Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.

“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”

“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”

The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”

“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”

Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

-----

When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.

The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.

Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.

There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.

-----

During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.

Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -

“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”

Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.

“Thank you!”

Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.

-----

By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.

Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?

Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.

“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”

“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”

“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”

“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”

About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.

A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.

-----

As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.

Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.

Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.

While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.

Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.

“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”

Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”

“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”

With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.

“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.

“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.

Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.

Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.

Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.

“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”

Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.

“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”

Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”

“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.

“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”

“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”

“At any point did you give it to them, though?”

Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”

Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.

“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.

Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?

Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”

While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.

A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.

“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”

With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.

With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.

“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”

“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”

The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”

“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”

Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”

Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.

A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”

“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”

In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.

On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”

Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”

There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.

Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.

[unsympathetic-snake]

I think you probably know why I dont like Rociet, but genuine question: Why do people ship Anxceit? I mean, people can create whatever content they want, but the way Janus acts around Virgil just gives me,,, bad vibes? Also most anxciet content revolves around Virgil being an asshole for leaving the dark sides, and you know that dont sit right with me 💙

yeah same

Janus just acts...like the parent who doesn’t have their child personal space? Like he pushes the thing about how Virgil was “hiding something”, he popped up in Virgil’s room uninvited, etc. 

They just have a weird relationship. 

[oliviaischillin1204]

the one with the role swap

Pairings: Platonic (ish?) Anxciet (they are,,,, antagonistic at best LMAO)

Word Count: 2,000 words even (woohoo!)

based on this excellent art by @fluffymary (i really hope the link works bc i know Tumblr Sucks sjdhfdjs)

Janus didn't know what had happened. One minute, he was walking through the Mind Palace on the way back to his room, passing through the hallway that unofficially separated the Light and Dark sides. The next minute, he felt himself being yanked into a room, where he was grabbed, spun, twisted, and lifted into the air, all in a matter of seconds.

When he came to a stop, he could feel himself being held tight in an involuntary position-- arms high above his head, his legs pulled toward the ground, his feet not even touching the floor as he was suspended in the air. He didn't know how high, though-- the room was pitch black and deadly silent.

He paused for a moment, heart racing, before his mind caught up with him. He knew what was going on.

"I don't suppose you'll turn the lights on for me," Janus said to the room before him. He forced down any trepidation in his voice, and was vaguely pleased that he managed to pull off such a disaffected tone.

A dark chuckle came from above him. He knew there was only one side who could possibly gain such a high position. "Take a guess."

"Oh, goody, more Dark Side melodramatics," Janus replied, rolling his eyes. "At least I know you haven't ducked out on us yet."

"Aw, did you miss us, Janus?" The voice came from a different corner of the room this time, and there was a slight sound of movement as it shifted positions; seconds later, it came from his other side, much lower to the ground. "Did you miss me?"

Janus forced himself to keep a straight face; this other side could easily see in the dark. "Hardly. But I'd rather have a spider trapped in a cup, than know that it's hidden out of sight somewhere near me."

Another chuckle, from another angle. "I'm not hiding anymore, Janus. I'm right here. I'm... right..."

The voice fell silent, and Janus strained to hear where the other side might be moving too.

Suddenly the lights flashed on, casting the room in an eerie glow, at the exact second a face dropped upside down in front of Janus.

"Here!"

Janus-- well, he was in the business of honesty, so he'd have to admit that shrieked was probably the best word to describe the noise he'd made. He clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late: the other side was cackling loudly at the reaction Janus had given him.

"Not funny, Anxiety!" Janus said hotly, cheeks warming just a bit.

"Very funny, Janus," Anxiety replied. He was hanging upside down from the ceiling on his own webbing, which Janus now realized had been used to tie him up as well. "I'd tell you I'm sorry for putting you in such a 'sticky' situation, but, well, you don't really approve of lies, do you?"

Janus sighed, loudly, and dropped his head back as much as he could against the slightly-sticky webbing. "Oh, for goodness sake, is that really why you've kidnapped me? This old argument again?"

"Aw, not up for a little healthy conversation between old friends?" Anxiety floated closer to him, effortlessly manipulating his webbing until he was hanging in front of Janus, right side up this time. "You always were a fan of intellectual debates."

"This isn't a debate, this is you purposely trying intimidate me into going along with your nefarious plans--"

"Intimidating, you say?" Anxiety interrupted. His eyes and grin narrowed. "So I intimidate you now?"

He leaned closer, and Janus fought the urge to squirm. His mind was racing with metaphors about flies in webs.

"I'm not scared of you," he hissed. Anxiety tsked.

"Ah ah ah, Janus. Wanna try that again, with a little less lying this time?"

His cocky expression fueled something petty and immature and achingly familiar in Janus' chest, and he took a deep breath to dispel it.

"I'm not scared of you... because I know you'd never hurt me," he said instead. "You'd never risk Thomas' well being like that."

A few moments passed, Anxiety and Janus staring each other down, before Anxiety pulled back with an appraising expression.

"Maybe you're right," he said. "I guess we'll have to find something else to do... something in the 'non-hurtful' area."

With that, he reached a hand up toward Janus' face; it took everything in him not to flinch. Still, as expected, Anxiety didn't hurt him-- he merely reached up and plucked Janus' hat off his head. He turned it over in his hands thoughtfully.

"Well, here's an idea," Janus snapped, irritation bubbling up inside of him, "and do let me know if it's too complicated for you to follow: you let me go, and we both go on with our daily duties. I'm certain we both have better things to do."

"I don't."

"Oh, well done, Anxiety, you've finally stated an obvious truth--"

Anxiety's brow furrowed, and he reared forward to shove the hat back on Janus' head. "Hey, don't forget who's in charge here--"

Janus twitched. Anxiety froze, his hand staying exactly still where it had accidentally grazed Janus' neck.

"Oh," he said. "Oh, I see."

"... Alright, this isn't funny anymore, Anxiety, let me go," Janus said after a beat, subtly craning his head backwards as Anxiety slowly began trailing his nails along the underside of Janus' jaw.

"Nah. I think it actually just got a lot funnier," Anxiety replied with a crooked smile. He pulled himself a little closer to Janus, easily following him in his squirming as he brought a second hand up to scratch and flutter along his poor, defenseless neck.

"What, you don't agree?" he continued, leaning forward to whisper into Janus' horrible sensitive ear. "Then why are you laughing?"

"I'm not," Janus insisted through his shallow breaths, which was true, but he was dangerously close to it.

Anxiety continued for one, two, three more seconds, before graciously pulling away, allowing Janus to sag against his restraints as he panted for breath.

"Oh, Janus," he said. "I'm so glad you're such an awful liar. That'll make this so much more fun."

He pulled himself upwards, out of Janus' line of sight and making him tense his muscles in anticipation.

"Re-- Remus will save me," he insisted, his breath hitching. Anxiety laughed lowly, the sound seeming to echo around the room.

"I'd love to see him try. I'd string him up faster than he could make a disgusting joke about it. Then... I'd get him too."

And here, Janus felt two hands creep around his waist, while a third-- a third?-- resumed fluttering all around his neck.

"Anxiety!" was all Janus could gasp out before Anxiety began purposefully squeezing his sides, massaging his fingers into Janus' ribs and forcing his breath out in a wheezy squeak. His legs kicked helplessly against the webbing, body twisting from side to side, but between the restraints on his limbs and Anxiety's hands on his torso, there was absolutely nowhere for him to go.

"What's wrong, Janny?" Anxiety jeered after a few more seconds of Janus' struggling. "Snake got your tongue? You usually have so much to say..."

His fingers trailed downward as he spoke, and by the end of his sentence they were easily wiggling into the softest part of Janus' stomach. Janus whined helplessly; his teeth were bared into a desperate smile that was impossible to hide, and even though his eyes were screwed shut, he was hopelessly aware of the way Anxiety was craning his neck to take in Janus' desperation.

"Awwww," Anxiety cooed. "Does that tickle? Does it tickle little Janny so badly? And you better tell the truth, Janus... I'd hate for everyone to find out that you're lying now..."

Janus' stomach flipped at the idea that anyone, anyone, would find out about this-- but before he could protest or beg or say anything to make it stop, Anxiety was there with more hands, under his arms and on his thighs, squeezing and pinching and clawing mercilessly.

All at once the dams were opened; Janus burst into a helpless, ridiculous peal of laughter, bouncing as best as he could manage against Anxiety's webbing. Unfortunately, all he succeeded in doing was getting more of his shirt stuck to the web, the fabric pulling up just enough to reveal a vulnerable strip of skin below Janus' belly button.

"Aw, what's this?" Anxiety asked as he easily slipped one hand under the shirt. "Is this another one of your tickle spots, Janus? You have so many, I can't even count them on two hands." His smile turned even sharper as he summoned his last hand to grab Janus' chin, forcing the snake side to make eye contact with him through his desperate laughter.

"Aren't you so lucky I have eight whole hands to keep track of all your tickle spots?"

Janus squeezed his eyes shut, weakly struggling against Anxiety's hand as it held his head upright and kept his neck exposed for tickles. He felt tingles running all over his body, even though he knew all of Anxiety's hands were counted for. The tickles were just that bad.

"Do you remember this one, Janny-wanny?" Anxiety teased, yanking Janus' shirt the rest of the way up so he could graze his nails across Janus' tummy. "This one used to drive you crazy..."

Then he hummed, leaning closer to Janus' ear, and began to sing, "The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..."

Janus gasped, twisting away as hard as he possibly could, but there was nothing at all that could stop Virgil's fingers from delicately dancing all the way up Janus' side, tickling and tickling and tickling as he passed each sensitive, ticklish rib in turn. His breathy hums and teases against Janus' ear were indescribably torturous, especially when he insisted on repeating each line whenever he found a particularly ticklish little spot along Janus' side.

Janus didn't even know what he was begging at this point. All he knew was his vision was blurring in the already dark room from the tears welling up in his eyes, and his ears and neck and face were on fire from the embarrassment of being literally caught in a web and tickled like a child, and he couldn't stop laughing, couldn't stop laughing, especially when Anxiety's fingers find that one old, familiar tickle spot just right there--

"Virgil! Virgil! Please no mohohohohore!"

Everything stopped.

Well, not quite everything. Janus was still laughing desperately, the ghost tickles still clinging to his body and making his clothes feel like they were tickling him as the fabric rubbed against his hypersensitive skin. He gasped and giggled and squirmed, only now realizing how exhausted he was, he hadn't been tickled like that in ages, not since--

Immediately he recognized the silence in the space. Awkward, heavy. Too dark for his taste.

Blearily, he blinked the tears out of his eyes, wishing vaguely he could wipe his face (and cover the flush on his human cheek, which he's sure was still horribly bright and obvious to anyone with eyes)-- but before he could say a word, he felt himself being lowered to the ground.

On instinct he dropped his feet below him, waited patiently for the webbing to gingerly unwrap itself from around him, remembered to shake himself once so any stray threads would fall to the floor to be cleaned up later. It was still pitch dark, and he held back a sigh.

"Anxiety--"

"There's a water bottle on the floor for you," the other side interrupted. Not for the first time, Janus strained his eyes in the shadowy corners, hoping to catch even an outline of his fr-- his old friend. "The bed's clean, if you need to rest. See you in the next video."

A beat, and Janus bit back the "please wait" that was sitting so temptingly on his tongue-- and then a sinking out noise, and Janus knew he was alone once again.

[mycatshuman]

I Against Me

Past Platonic Anxciet

Warnings: angst, just a whole lot of angst.

Didn't proof read so here you go.

"Tell me why you're holding me back

Tryna push me off the right track

And I'm wishing so bad you would leave me alone

Why you're blurring out my vision

So I'd go make the wrong decision

But I know that you'll never be gone"

---------

Virgil and Janus used to be good friends. Really good friends. The kind of friends who would do anything for each other. But their friendship grew to be unhealthy. Toxic even. And when Janus "Self-Care" Sanders asked Virgil if he could find any reason why they should continue to be friends, Virgil realized, then more than ever, that he had to let go. He loved Janus. He was one of the best friends he had ever had. And in the words of Brendon Urie: "If you love me let me go-" Virgil let Janus go. 

That didn't make it hurt any less. 

---------

"I'm blaming you that I've been cruel and mean to all my friends

Cuz I've become so rude and now another friendship ends

But now I started seeing clearer

I saw your face up in the mirror

Yes I'm the one to blame"

--------

Virgil shattered. 

He knew it was his fault. Who else could have caused this. Janus was big on self-care. If he had issues, he went to see a therapist, but Virgil,  oh Virgil, he wouldn't. Dare he say he couldn't? Therapy cost money, money that he couldn't really spare. 

But he could have done better. He could have listened to Janus when he told him to get help. But he didn't. Why exactly, he didn't know. Stubborn? Lazy? Most likely. But he did try to keep his problems from Janus. Keep them tight to his chest. He couldn't burden others with his issues. He should have known better. 

--------

"That's why I bang my head against the wall

Cuz I don't like myself at all

Wish that I could cut all the ties

And now my life is such a tragedy

Cuz I'm my biggest enemy

I can't look myself in the eyes

It's I against me

I against me

I against me

(I, Me... I)"

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

Virgil isolated himself. He thought it would help. He really did. It only succeeded in making himself feel lonely. So lonely that he didn't feel like he could ever reach out. He didn't feel like he could bring up events in his life. From time to time he did, on things he didn't feel alone in dealing with, but when he felt truly and utterly alone, he didn't reach out. He couldn't reach out. That eventually led to possibly one of the biggest mistakes in his life. 

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

"I'm hurting everyone around me

And I'm regretting it profoundly

But I finally see that the reason is you

Another day another struggle

Because I'm always causing trouble

And I hate what you're making me do"

----------

Janus did not see their relationship as healthy. Virgil couldn't think of any reason for them to be friends other than he wanted to and he felt less lonely when talking to Janus. Even when he isolated himself, talking to Janus sometimes made him forget. But Virgil knew he was just being selfish. He was stifling Janus. Janus deserved a much better friend than Virgil could ever be. 

And when Janus got cold feet, Virgil took over and let go. Better he deal with all the guilt than his friend. Ex-friend. 

Self-loathing wasn't far behind. 

----------

"I'm blaming you that I've been cruel and mean to all my friends

Cuz I've become so rude and now another friendship ends

But now I started seeing clearer

I saw your face up in the mirror

Yes I'm the one to blame"

-----------

Virgil had cried himself to sleep the night before, "to sleep on his thoughts" Janus had suggested, he ended up with a stuffy nose before finally falling asleep. He didn't think he would be able to cry anymore after it actually ended but he supposed things do always go the way you think they do. He didn't think he would be the one to actually leave. It was just one more thing for Vitgil to blame himself for. Maybe it wasn't exactly a healthy thing to do but, Virgil needed to realize the truth. This was his fault, no one else's. He was the one to make the friendship toxic. No one else but him. He was told to get help and he didn't.  His dad and stepmother were right, he didn't know how to change. 

-----------

"That's why I bang my head against the wall

Cuz I don't like myself at all

Wish that I could cut all the ties

And now my life is such a tragedy

Cuz I'm my biggest enemy

I can't look myself in the eyes

It's I against me"

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

Virgil had dealt with friendships end before. He really couldn't think of anyone he knew who had ever stayed his friend throughout his whole life. There were people who went and came back and then went again. There were people who were friends but more out of obligation like they were family or they had no else at the time and needed someone. Virgil had had a few friends throughout his lifetime but never really any best friends. At least not ones where it didn't seem one sided. He should have realized the ending of his friendship with Janus was going to hurt a whole lot more than the ones before. 

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

"Me against I

A torturous battle

A one-sided fight

I'm willing to lose if it means

That I win in the end

Now the war is on

As we both collide

I just hope I will survive"

-----------

Virgil sat in his room. He couldn't go to his mom or aunt. He couldn't let them know what happened. He could deal with this on his own. There wasn't a rule that dealing with something on one's own required them to actually be able to handle the crushing weight of emotions pushing him down into the ground. 

Movies sometimes depicted people talking to their siblings if they couldn't or didn't want to go to an adult when they were hurting. But his brother wouldn't understand and he couldn't trust him not to tell anyone. And his sister...well, he hadn't heard from her in a while. He wasn't sure why, if it was because she thought he had been in on it when their brother set up a group video call and added their mother or if it was because of the letter. 

He had said things about their mom in the letter, hoping to get the 4 year silence between them to end, but maybe it was what he had confessed at the end of the letter that had stopped their communication. Maybe it wasn't the right idea to come out as Bi in a letter but how else was he supposed to be certain only his sister would hear? 

Yes, Virgil was trying to distract himself from the events of earlier that morning by thinking of other things that upset him. Not healthy but it kept him from crying for the most part so he counted it as a win. Except nothing could ever seem like a win on that day. More like a consolation prize. Like, "Hey you woke up today! You get to breathe!" But eventually, he would have to let reality run him over. 

-----------

"That's why I bang my head against the wall

Cuz I don't like myself at all

Wish that I could cut all the ties

And now my life is such a tragedy

Cuz I'm my biggest enemy

I can't look myself in the eyes

It's I against me"

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

Virgil often wondered what was wrong with him. Why some things didn't seem to make him react the ways others did. He really wished someone would just tell him everything that was wrong with him and why so he could fix it all. Most of the time when he tried to fix things he had messed up with before, he only ended up making things worse. It happened when he lived with his dad and now he was living with his mom. 

He wanted to change. Really, he did. At least he thought so. But people were telling him he wasn't changing. And of course they had to be right. He really wasn't changing. He was just fooling himself into believing he was. And he had fooled other people into believing he was. His mom was right, he really was manipulative.  

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

"Bang my head against the wall

Cuz I don't like myself at all (Ohh)

Wish that I could cut all the ties (Ohh)

And now my life is such a tragedy (It's I Against Me)

Cuz I'm my biggest enemy (Ohh)

I can't look myself in the eyes (Ohh)

It's I against me"

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

Maybe, Virgil thought. Maybe I'm not supposed to have friends. I don't deserve them and they deserve better than me. Tears spilled fast and heavy from Virgil's eyes. Maybe I was just meant to be alone. 

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

"I against me

I against me"

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

Everything taglist: @spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @@little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws @odette-ssbu

[impatentpending]

i have been Starved™️ for healthy anxciet content and your fic made my day!!

Aaah, that makes me so happy to hear!

I absolutely feel you though; I honestly feel anxceit would be much higher up on my list of ships if there was more healthy content for it 😔

[itsfrenchfornothankyou]

When Darkness Turns to Light - Chapter 5

description: a flashback to a scene just after the episode “Can Lying be Good?” Virgil deals with complicated histories between him and Deceit, and the weight that past bears on him today. 

relationships: past Anxciet (open to interpretation)

characters: just my boi virgil, but other characters mentioned 

warnings: anxiety attacks, spiralling, previous anxiety (that is worse than current) lying centric stuff  //  Janus and Virgil’s relationship is complicated!! 

let me know if anything needs tagging- or a better way of warning for stuff im still learning!

this fic treats all characters as sympathetic, but that doesn’t mean all character have always had healthy relationships with each other. character views do not always necessarily reflect those of the author 

first chapter

previous chapter / next chapter

We Wrote Our Names in Blood

Virgil closes his eyes, letting the darkness surround him as he digs deep into his blankets. The blackness comforts him, makes it easier to block out everything else. It didn’t always, when things got really bad he couldn’t even find peace in the dark, it just filled his mind with a hundred monsters that could be hiding there. Remus was often nearby in those times. But now he can wallow under his covers properly, drowning in his music and pretending there’s nothing beyond his small cocoon. Maybe if he’s lucky the sun will go supernova and he’ll never have to get out of bed again.

Eventually he hears knocks at the door, Patton calling him down for dinner. He doesn’t answer, even though it cuts crystal clear trough the noise of his headphones. His stomach curls as he hears the footsteps walking away. He knows Patton is disappointed. He loves big family dinners, but he doesn’t complain about Virgil missing them anymore. Virgil has the sneaking suspicion Logan had a conversation with him about it. but that doesn’t mean Virgil cant still tell that Patton wishes he would come out of his room more. he cant even really give a reason why he’s missing it today.

Maybe it’s easier to pretend it’s his only source of guilt.

Virgil was squirming in place the entire video – he’d never thought he’d be so grateful to be shoved backstage – he knew something wasn’t right. When he realised what was happening he ran through every terrible scenario he could think of, all the things Deceit could do posing as Thomas’ Morality, but even he hadn’t expected Deceit to actually show his face.

Virgil had known Deceit could impersonate the other sides, he had often used his shape-shifting to entertain Virgil before… He shakes the thought out of his head. But it wasn’t until “Patton” showed up and it had been so wrong that he had even considered Deceit could perform for the others too. Maybe that’s all their friendship had ever been. A performance.

No. He shouldn’t feel guilty for the life he left behind. He doesn’t feel guilty. He’s better now. Thomas is better now. Janus, Deceit, is no good for them. Instead of guilt, anger washes over him, he isn’t even sure who he’s angry at anymore. Deceit feels like the easiest answer.

That’s the problem though, Deceit always felt like an easy answer.  A rush in his bloodstream, an easy lie to cover all the flaws he didn’t want anyone to see. They can’t hate you is they don’t even know who you are. In the end the hangover always catches you. Trying to keep track of all of the lies, the constant fear of discovery. Of inadequacy. Then you have to reach for more lies to cover your tracks, and the fear of being found out consumes you, but you’re even more terrified of coming clean. You’re already in too deep for that.

Virgil’s heart races.

One, two, three, four.

He had kept track of all of his lies, scribbled in the margins of notebooks, categorised as best as he can. The terror of slipping him up spurring him onwards.

Count to seven.

He feels like he’s going to burst from the inside out, and he’s terrified of what will come pouring out if he does.

Breathe for eight.

he remembers the rush of relief he felt every time a lie fell apart. Every time he could scratch it from his mind. stop thinking about it and maintaining it. the inevitable fall out he had known would have to catch up eventually was finally there and he could stop living in suspense; too terrified to take action himself.

Virgil’s heart slows as his breathing steadies, and he’s just left feeling… empty. It aches inside him.

He can feel where all of his missing pieces would fit right in next to Deceit’s, but he shakes the feeling away. Like a bone that needs to be broken so it can heal properly. Things are better this way. He’ll be fine.

By the time he drags himself out of bed, Roman is making breakfast. No one mentions his absence the night before, but Patton’s eyes are full of worry as Virgil swings up onto his usual counter-top. He forces an easy smile, making vague comments about the food. Patton takes the hint, and the conversation is brushed to the side. Virgil just wishes he could so easily shake the feeling that maybe some of Deceit’s influences are so deeply embedded in him he could never lose them

----

I really wish I could say I’m anywhere close to the end of this angst, but like i have several more chapters written and honestly personally speaking, the angst in the next chapter is worse, tho it at least has some(?) fluff in there with it

sorry this one is so short, but the next one is a monster of a chapter and I’ll be dropping that later this week (hopefully friday?)

tbh i had a lot of difficulty being happy with this chapter but I’m calling it here for now, because i just have to get it out of the way and move on hope y’all enjoy it anyway, im really looking forward to the next chapter

taglist: @booklover223 @cemmy @selenechris @god0fspoons @sweet-hibiscus-tea-art

let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

[thereallinksstuff]

Uhm here's my first fic in like 8 years, I hope it isn't to bad.

Fandom : sander sides ,

Pairings: intrulogical, background royality hint of anxciet

Words: idk fahm

He felt the familiar tug of Thomas summoning them, he sighed in annoyance at being disturbed.

He popped up just like any other day he was summoned only this time everyone was staring at him. "Why are you all looking at me as though my head has turned into Barneys armpit?" 

"Uh....Nice outfit logan" Virgil managed through his suprise at logan not being in his normal tie and black polo.

Looking around the room at everyone staring at him, Logan realised he hadn't changed into his work clothes. No instead he was wearing large spiked combat boots, torn black skinny jeans, with a sleeveless punk rocker style Jean vest. Even his hair was a vibrant blue instead of the normal brown.

"Uhm...Logan? How come your dressed like that?" Patton had asked curiously.

being pulled from his thoughts by Patton's question logan turned to look at the fatherly side,

"Well it is not my usual attire, I am comfortable like this. I merely forgot to change before popping up. If you would all continue with the discussion you were having prior I would be grateful."

"I agree, let's get back on topic." 

Logan was thankful for their host for helping in getting everyone's eyes off of him.

For the next hour or so they discussed whether or not Thomas should do one thing or the other, He didn't pay much attention. He was too focused on a strange feeling (heh feeling) that someone was in his room.

As soon as Thomas had his issue resolved Logan was the first to say goodbye, of course with a reminder to drink water and be healthy, but he was out of there quickly.

When he got back to his room he didn't immediately see anyone there, curious as to why he felt like someone had been. Looking around his room he noted how all the books were in place, his bed was still neatly made, his closet doors were slightly open as he had left them. Taking a moment to double check inside his closet, he felt like someone had their eyes on him. As he walked out of his closet he noticed a small paper and box on his desk.

Making his way over he examined the note with a strange curiosity.

To Lo,

I have a proposition for you, if you would like more info, check the kitchen  ; )

From, someone.

As curious as Logan was about the note, he loved a good puzzle after all,  he looked inside the little box. Inside there was a small space pin that had 'viva la pluto' written on a small ribbon. To say he was shocked was an understatement, he was baffled as to who would have given him something so nice and who would have gone through the trouble of learning about his disdain for Pluto no longer being a planet. 'It is a planet, stupid people.' he thought as he placed the pin on his vest. Making his way down to the kitchen he noticed Patton making dinner with Roman and Virgil not around, possibly in their rooms.

"Hello Patton, I wanted to apologize for my appearance today with Thomas, I nearly forgot to change, I will make sure it doesn't happen again."

Turning around and smiling brightly at Logan, Patton just gave him a shrugging wave. " It's alright Logan, I think we were all just surprised to see you...all punked out." "I understand the confusion Pat, I tend to only allow myself to dress this comfortably when there is nothing that will need my sudden appearance."

He Gave Patton a small smile while looking around the room, he noticed a small deep blue note on the counter, "hey pat, who's the note for?"

Patton turned and followed Logan's gaze- " oh that? Im not sure who it's from but it's got your name on it." Logan walked over and picked up the note, choosing to pocket it for the moment. "Well I am going to go reorganize my books, I shall see you at dinner Patton." He finished saying as he walked into the shared living room. Pausing for just a moment to read the note.

To my Star

I know you like to read so check your favourite book to find the next clue

From someone cool.

As he made his way back up to his room he couldn't stop himself from theorizing who the notes were from, it wouldn't have been Patton as he was with Roman, and Roman well, to be honest he didn't think Roman would do something this simple..

As he entered his room, he almost immediately noticed ' the murder of Agitha Christy ' sitting on his bed- not on the shelf. Sitting down on his bed picking up the book, he fondly remembered the first time he read the book, it was such a nice memory. When he opened the book he saw the note, gently taking it out and setting the book back on his bed, he read the note.

To My Sun,

I know this has been short but here is your final clue, meet me where you'd least expect me, yet exactly where someone like me would be.

Love your admirer.

'My Admirer?' he thought to himself as he got up to return his book to its place. Thinking logically he slowly went through the list of who it could be, Patton and Roman were quickly ruled out seeing as they were together. Only for a moment did he think it'd be Virgil, but realizing that Virgil currently likes Deciet, it wouldn't be him.  Pacing back and forth in his room for a good 20 minutes he decides to try looking around the 'basement.'

No it wasn't really a basement more like where deciet and Remus chose to have their rooms.

Walking down the hallway that leads toward the 'dark sides' as Roman puts it, login again felt like he was being watched.

Making his was down to the common area for the 'dark' sides logan looked around seeing neither deciet or Remus. After a few moments of looking he sighed and thought out loud to himself. "who would send these notes, especially to me?' after all he was the 'nerd' he was logic. Although he didn't enjoy the nerd aesthetic as much as his punk one, he just couldn't get his thoughts to a conclusive answer about why someone would admire him.

Lost in his thoughts he didn't notice Remus come up from who knows where to stand right infront of him.

"HIYA Logan, whatcha doing down here?"

Be started into reality, login recomposed himself before answering, "I was looking for the author of some notes that I've been left, I am merley looking everywhere." He replied maybe. Little quickly, he had hoped Remus didn't pick up on it.

"Oh well, that sounds fun can I help you??"

Remus asked while bouncing on his feet, seemingly excited about being able to help someone. For a few moments logan questioned why Remus would want to help him, however he couldn't bring himself to a logical conclusion as to why he shouldn't let him help. He sat down on the couch that was behind him, and held the note out to Remus. "This is the last note I received however I do not know who the author is, and such I figured I just look around in places I wouldn't normally go." He finished with a huff, looking up towards Remus. He was reading the Note and doing his weird thinking face, Logan took this time to really get a look at Remus, he wasnt in his normal Dukey attire, he was wearing something more akin to how logan was dressed. Biker boots, ripped cutoff shorts, a black sleeveless t-shirt that read 'could be gayer' across the chest and a fully studded and patch covered Jacket. Logan laughed a little to himself about the similarities between his and remus's styles.

"Well, do you have an idea as to where I should look Re?"

Almost as if he had forgotten Logan was there Remus blinked then bounced right back into energy town. "I DO!!" He shouted and grabbed logan by the wrist. "I know this seems kinda crazy but just follow me!" Remus bounced forward dragging logan along with him. Ignoring the nice feeling of having someone else hold you, Logan followed after Remus, hoping it wasn't to far.

"Okay I'm gonna need you to close your eyes and trust me." Remus asked as he stopped in front of a door Logan didn't recognize. "May I ask why Remus, I do not wish to be the subject of your pranks."

Remus looked around quickly trying to come up with an excuse, not being able to think of a good one, he replied simply. "it's a surprise! But also because we have to cut through a part of my imagination. And I don't want you to be er.. grossed out?" Remus finished quietly, being considerate of the others feelings was a bit strange to Logan, seeing as Remus rarely did it, however he was more curious as to who the author of the notes was. He made the decision to trust Remus, and of he was honest with himself, he was hoping Remus was the author, seeing as he liked Remus for quite a while now.

"Alright Remus, I trust you to keep me safe, we can go when you are ready." Logan adjusted his glasses to look at Remus, who had been staring at logan with a wide grin plastered on, but slowly it wavered as he processed what logan had said. "You...you actually trust me enough to enter my imagination?" He asked, looking down rubbing his hands awkwardly together.

"Well yes, you may not have the nicest or cleanest thoughts and ideas, but you are a part of Thomas, and to be honest with you Remus, there are times when I prefer deciet and yours company more than the others. You are unpredictable and can be a bit much however, I have no reason to not trust you. You have never directly hurt me, or the others - well minus roman."  Hoping that He didn't pick up on the emotions behind his words, Logan let out a small breath he didn't realize he was holding as Remus bounced in excitement. "Okay, let's go!"

Grabbing Logan's hand instead of wrist this time, Remus pulled logan into his imagination as soon as the other's eyes were closed.

Logan now with his eyes closed and his hand in remus' , he hoped Remus knew where he was going, but then again, He tended to know a lot of weird things, so he let himself get pulled along what sounded like a dirt path. Every so often he would hear humming from Remus as the walked. It had only been 10 minutes of walking but to Login it felt like longer, what with his eyes being closed and all that.

"Okay stay right there with your eyes closed." Remus had asked him calmly, with what seemed like nervousness in his voice if only a little.

"I.. uh okay" Logan replied trying to show as little confusion as possible. He could hear Remus walk towards and open something but, without the visuals he couldn't identify it, so he waited patiently playing with the various spikes on his wristband.

Remus slowly walked back over to Logan, a bouquet of wilted flowers in his hands (he tried for days to make living flowers but couldnt)

He gently tapped logan on the shoulder, "okay you can open your eyes now" he said with such gentleness that the other had not heard before, slowly opening his eyes and looking at his surroundings, he couldn't help but to be shocked. Up in the night sky there were thousands of glowing stars with a large shining moon bathing both men in a nice calm light.

As Logan looked around he noticed the partially alive trees and bushes that surrounded the clearing they were in. Remus had a wonderful imagination,sure, there were random creatures wandering around and random dirty jokes personified everywhere but it was wonderful in its own way. He wondered why so few were willing to see it.

Finally looking over at Remus, Logan noticed how he was already looking at him, with a goofy grin on his face holding what seemed to be withered flowers. "I know you are a hesitant person sometimes and that you like to do things in the most logical order. However demented or disturbing to the other my ideas and thoughts are, you help them to understand me better. Which I can't thank you enough for. So Logan Sanders...would you like to...go kill people together?  LikeBoyfriendsShould? On a regular bases?"

It took a moment for logan to process all of what Remus had been saying, and if his thinking was right Remus was the author of the notes, and he was asking him out in a very Remus way...

For once Logan didn't have the words to respond, the side he has had feelings for, for a while is asking him out and to be his boyfriend. Before his logical thinking could stop him he stepped forward grabbing Remus by his jacket collar pulling him into a kiss.

Taking the kiss as a yes, Remus slid his hands around Logan's waist, kissing him back with passion in an attempt to communicate how happy he is. When they pull apart logan looks at him with a sparkle in his eyes that was usually reserved for learning. However right here right now, with Remus, in his imagination logan couldn't be happier, even with all his grossness or disturbing thoughts, Remus was the one for him.

"Thank you, and to verbally express my feelings, I accept your offer to be in a romantic relationship, Darling."

"Haha I figured from the kiss but thank you, to hear you say it makes my heart explode into a million pieces hahah." Leaning his head on Logan's shoulder the two sit and talk until dinner, to which they both go to, sharing glances and holding hands, much to everyone else's confusion. they lived punkily ever after.

I hope y'all like it, let me know if you do

Sorry for any errors in grammer or spelling, it isn't my strong suit

[macademmia]

👬 favorite platonic ship, 💬 and favorite quote?

favorite platonic ship? Either prinxiety or anxciet 

favorite quote? Thomas: You don’t want me to live a long healthy life? Roman: I mean like sure, whatever, but like w h y? 

[unsympathetic-character-thomas]

Trigger + Squicks

U!Patton

U!Logan

U!Remus

U!Janus

U!Roman

Healthy Logicality

Healthy Prinxiety 

Healthy Anxciet

Healthy Dukexiety 

Healthy Mociet

Virgil centric angst 

Patton centric angst

Solely Remus centric angst 

Biphobia

Tennis

Death

Sexual assault

Age regression 

Enclosed spaces

Kidnapping 

Bodily fluids/solids (aside from sweat, maybe vomit if it’s just mentioned)

Because we have so many mods, you can send in asks with these, but please be mindful to put warnings for these.

 If any of these are your Squicks/Triggers, please filter them, because it’s likely a mod will post it,so please be slightly weary while going through the blog

[incorrectsides]

Hey hey okay I like healthy anxciet but also consider virgil/deceit/remus being together back before virgil joined the light sides

anon..... you’re a genius