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sleepless-in-starbucks · 2 months

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The Hazards of Living with Remy Holmes

Ao3

Summary: In general, Logan found living with Remy to be manageable, if occasionally annoying and/or nonsensical. Logan would appreciate, however, if their sibling could stop breaking into their apartment while Logan was there. Content: Sherlock Holmes AU; bickering, deductions, listen this is mostly logan and virgil verbally sparring while everyone flexes their low-level deduction muscles Pairings: Logan & Remy (future QPR), Remy & Virgil (siblings), Logan & Virgil (forced to put up with each other because of Remy) Notes: Hello TS fandom of 2024. How's it been

“Remy? Remy, have you seen my jacket?” Logan called out in his still fairly new apartment, halfway down the hall between his room and the apartment’s main sitting area as he spoke. His still fairly new roommate had been out the past few hours, but Logan had heard the door open while he had been shuffling through his closet for the fourth time that day. Normally, Logan would simply assume he had left his jacket at work- a not terribly uncommon occurrence, especially when he worked later shifts- but living with Remy came with a unique set of risk factors Logan had to keep a constant eye on. Case in point: “I swear, if you’ve got it wrapped around another ham-”

Reaching the end of the hallway, Logan cut himself off as he realized who was actually in the sitting area, frowning. “Ah. Virgil. I apologize, I didn’t realize we had been broken into.”

Virgil, sitting in one of the apartment’s armchairs like he belonged there, just smirked at Logan’s dry tone. “Not breaking in if I have a key, doc.”

“It is if we didn’t give you that key.” Logan countered, wrinkling his nose at the nickname. “And please, call me Dr. Watson. I’d hate for us to get friendly.”

Virgil chuckled. “Still holding a grudge, are we?”

“You kidnapped me, threatened me, and accused me of having homicidal intentions. I believe I have the right to a grudge.”

“Shouldn’t that be water under the bridge by now? I said sorry, didn’t I?”

“It’s been two months.” Logan reminded, crossing his arms. “And no, you haven’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” Virgil said, sounding about as apologetic as Logan had when he had greeted the intruder. “Better now?”

“Apology not accepted.” Logan answered flatly. “Might I ask why you have decided to darken my apartment?”

“Is visiting my sibling not a good enough reason for me to want to stop by?”

“Not dressed like that it isn’t.” Logan nodded at Virgil’s outfit, a well-fitted suit that would put the MIB’s to shame. Virgil did, occasionally, drop by just for the sake of a visit, but he arrived informally in those instances, imitating the mundane lives of civilians by doing things such as ‘wearing hoodies’ and ‘knocking on the door.’

Virgil glanced down at himself, as if he might have forgotten what he arrived. He tugged on his dark purple tie, the only hint of colour he allowed his formal wear, straightening it incrementally before looking back up at Logan. “You caught me. I have a case for Remy of… some governmental importance. Nothing dire, but important enough we want to ensure it’s handled properly.”

“You have a case for us, then.” Logan corrected, the statement petty, entirely for the sake of drawing a reaction. Logan was dragged alongside Remy to every case the unofficial detective worked, whether he liked it or not, and Virgil knew that perfectly well. It made no meaningful difference to Logan whether or not Virgil acknowledged that, but, as established, he was still holding a grudge over their first meeting. “That’s what you meant to say, correct?”

The annoyance that entered Virgil’s expression was slight, but Logan considered it a major success on his part.

Before Virgil could choose his response, the doorknob of the front door began to jiggle slightly, shaken by the motion of someone inserting their key. Both him and Logan turned to watch as the door was unlocked and pushed open as Remy entered, taking a moment to fully remove their key before closing the door behind them.

“I’m back, babes!” Remy greeted the apartment automatically as they dropped their keychain onto the shelf mounted above the sitting room’s lightswitch, flashing Logan a smile when they realized he was right in front of them. Their motions remained fairly routine up until they spotted Virgil, looking surprised by his presence but not as upset as Logan had been (and was). “Well this is unexpected.”

“I know I didn’t mention I’d be dropping in-”

Remy waved Virgil off before he could finish his sentence. “No, not that. I’d be more surprised if you gave me a heads up before swinging by, to be honest. I just can’t believe you and Lo managed to occupy the same room, alone, without killing each other.”

“As if your doctor could kill me.”

“The restraint I have showcased so far is not insubstantial.”

Logan and Virgil shot twin glares at each other as their replies overlapped, Remy laughing at the show. “Alright, girls, you’re both pretty. No need to start a fight now.”

“I would hardly-” Logan trailed off as he looked back towards Remy, paying more attention to the details of his appearance at the second glance than he had the first (more occupied then with the relief Remy’s company would provide). Specifically, he was paying more attention to the dark blue leather that was draped over them. “...Is that my jacket?”

Between their sunglasses and generally relaxed attitude, it wasn’t always the easiest thing to follow Remy’s thoughts, but Logan was still able to catch the quick twitch of their face. “Ah… is it? Could’ve sworn it was one of mine.”

In the peripheral of his vision, Logan watched Virgil raise an eyebrow. “It’s a size too big for you, Rem.”

Remy raised the hand holding their coffee cup in mock surrender. “Ok, you caught me. I was in a rush this morning, I wasn’t thinking and grabbed the first jacket I saw. Not my fault you left yours in the kitchen, hun.”

Logan sighed, though the sound wasn’t as annoyed as it probably should have been. Really, in the grand scheme of living-with-Remy things, his jacket getting accidentally commandeered was relatively harmless. “How far your brilliant deductive reasoning skills get you.”

Remy grinned at the (admittedly) heatless jab. From where he was still relegated to the corner of Logan’s vision, Virgil frowned, expression twisting into a more severe version of the one Remy wore when they were working out a particularly complicated puzzle.

Thankfully, he chose not to comment on whatever observation he had pulled out of thin air, instead clearing his throat to call back the room’s attention. “Yeah, speaking up your skills-”

“Let me guess: you’ve got a case for us.” Remy finished for him, missing the smug look Logan shot Virgil as they took a sip of their coffee. “Alright then, lay it on me. Since I know you won’t leave me alone ‘til it’s handled.”

“And this is the part where I step out.” Logan said before Virgil could begin, not in the mood to go through their usual song and dance of Virgil telling Remy the bare minimum of case-related information while making it very clear that Logan was the one with the lowest level of ‘need-to-know’ clearance. He moved across the sitting area, passing Remy to slip on the shoes he kept by the door. “You didn’t get the mail from Patton as you came up, did you?”

“I didn’t, no.”

“Then I shall use that as my excuse. I’m sure he’ll be happy to entertain me for at least five minutes.” Logan grabbed his keys from the shelf, aware he didn’t truly need them but wanting to have them nonetheless, and pulled open the door. “Remy, I trust you’ll fill me in on what I miss.”

“Yeah, of course, babes- but, wait a sec.” Logan paused in the doorway, turning his body around to face Remy once more. “You sure Pat’s going to be there? Today’s when he usually has his baking class.”

To the outside onlooker, Remy’s comment would have been perceived as nothing more than an innocent, and reasonable, observation. Patton’s baking classes were held twice weekly, Patton went to them consistently, and Logan had no direct reason to believe Patton would have skipped that day’s class for no reason.

Logan, however, was not the outside onlooker, and over the tops of Remy’s sunglasses, he could see the way their eyes glinted with a completely different question, one Logan was happy to answer.

“I’m certain he will be. His class was cancelled.”

“Oh yeah?” Remy prompted, grinning as he set Logan up. To the side, Virgil shifted in his seat, likely having picked up on the fact that Remy was building the conversation up to something. “How’d you know that?”

The corner of his mouth tipping up into a self-satisfied smile, Logan turned towards Virgil. “Because Virgil styled his hair.” He answered simply, taking a moment to appreciate as Virgil’s expression morphed from suspicion into outrage before he breezed out the door, shutting it behind him. The last thing he heard was Remy, laughing like the two of them had just told the funniest joke in the world.

Yes, living with Remy came with a unique set of challenges. But Logan found that, for Remy, he could be adaptable.

#ok my tags . uh #ts sides #sanders sides #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remy #platonic losleep #sibling sleepxiety #fanfic #is that all of them . sure probably maybe #anyways hey y'all yeah i didnt think id be writing this either #but the night hours are a strange thing and ive Really been in a holmes mood recently #plus it may not live in my title anymore but i am and remain the god of losleep . ignore the fact this fic is 75% virgil-logan bickering #losleep sh au you will never see your full potential but for a moment you can be real

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dirtycreekwater · 1 year

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hey i used to be romanalogicality in the sanders sides fandom and im trying to revive a dead au so check it out if you like cute chaos @roadtripbois @roadtripshenanigans

i also revived LRVerse @pattonsfam-ily

#sanders sides #drlamp #platonic drlamp #creativitwins #sleepxiety #analogince

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roadtripshenanigans · 1 year

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being stuck in a car with my brothers, boyfriend, and three best friends is awful actually this was a mistake -virgil

#ooc tags:#sanders sides #platonic drlamp #sleepxiety #creativitwins #road trip bois

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roadtripbois · 1 year

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hey i was able to revive a different dead sanders sides au/blog i wonder if i can revive this one too lmao i miss the road trip bois

#sanders sides #platonic drlamp #sleepxiety #creativitwins #familial analoceit #road trip bois

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pattonsfam-ily · 1 year

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yo im gonna try to resurrect my other old sanders sides human au @roadtripbois / @roadtripshenanigans one more time by bringing platonic/familial agere!virgil into it

#ooc #sanders sides #ts agere #platonic drlamp #creativitwins #sleepxiety

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 1 year

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Gibbous Chapter 11: Never Meant to Make You Bleed

Chapter Title: Never Meant to Make You Bleed

Chapter Summary: Above anything else in life, Remy was a free spirit. He was a “Live-laugh-love” kinda guy, an embodiment of “Fuck it, You Only Live Once.”

Which was why he walked into his favorite local coffee shop, looked the barista directly in the eye and said, “I’ll take a 32 ounce blended Caramel Macchiato with three extra pumps of caramel, a half-pump of chocolate and eight extra espresso shots please.”

Pairings: background platonic sleepxiety (it’s discussed but Virgil is not actually in this chapter)

Chapter Word-Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Discussions of Mind Suggestions/Hypnosis (Enthrallment), Vomit Mention, Brief Descriptions of Violence, Arguing, Depression, Disassociation, Morally Grey Remy

Previous | Present | Next AO3 Link

A Gibbous update?? Within three months of the last one?? Christmas miracles DO happen!

This chapter is a bit of interlude between last chapter and the next upcoming few chapters--think of it as a surprise tool that will help us later ;)

Above anything else in life, Remy was a free spirit. He was a “Live-laugh-love” kinda guy, an embodiment of “Fuck it, You Only Live Once.”

Willow, the barista, quirked a slitted eyebrow, “Are you sure you don’t want the eleventh espresso shot today?”

“Nah, I only order it with eleven shots if I’m in need of a creative pick-me-up,” Remy winked, “Ten shots is my usual usual.”

“Alright, one moment,” The barista turned to the side and barked, “Cade! It’s ten today, not eleven!” before facing Remy with a blank gaze, “That’ll be $10.49.”

“How are we feeling about pennies today?”

“How are you feeling like being stabbed?”

Remy considered this for a moment. He stuffed the bag of pennies away. The barista shook their head, the corner of their mouth twitching just the slightest bit. Remy knew from his frequent patron visits that it was their closest thing to a laugh while in customer service mode.

“Here you are, as always please know we are not held liable for any subsequent heart attacks you might endure from drinking this thing!” Cade announced, presenting the drink with a flourish.

“Mmhhmmm,” Remy took a long sip, “it’ll take more than some espresso to fuck me up. I’m unfuckable.”

“Don’t you mean unkillable?” Willow asked.

“I said what I said.”

“Riiiight, okay, well please try not to die on store premises!” Cade said in his sing-songy customer service voice, “I do not want to deal with your decaying corpse driving away business.”

“Excuse me, my corpse would make a fantastic Halloween decoration and you know it,” Remy said, dropping a $20 into the Jack O’Lantern themed tip jar, “anyways, peace out babes, I’m gonna go haunt a corner table to read my shitty biology textbook.”

Cade and Willow called out a passing farewell as he walked away to do that. He stared down at the horrendously inaccurate depiction of a selkie’s anatomy and definitely did not think about anything else but his homework.

Okay, well, that was a tiiiiiny lie. Just a bit. He couldn’t help it—was ten espresso shots really that lethal to humans? Or was it a case of humans being way too overly dramatic? See, Remy could consume human food and beverages, but most of them were really bland unless they contained a strong taste to them.

It couldn’t be that deadly, though, because Remy has never heard of a human dying of a caffeine dose. Oh well, it wasn’t like it truly mattered, though—it would take much more than some caffeine to kill him. He would know this after the numerous attempts on his life over the centuries.

In Remy’s completely honest opinion, the whole indefinite “not-being dead” thing? Overrated.

It was why for all his nonchalant candor he refrained from openly discussing it. There were assumptions people made when they found out you’re like a bazillion years old.

Like the idea you’re some wizened, wise being for one. Which don’t get him wrong, when you live for a long, long, long time, you do learn a lot of invaluable life lessons. Like, maybe, don’t invest everything you own into stocks because even if you are an undead being, you will still be hurting losing it all in a stock market crash a century later.

However, it was stupid to think that wisdom came from being centuries old. There were four-year-olds Remy met with more wisdom than any particularly old wizards named Merlin could give.

Being centuries old just meant that you perpetually relearned the same damn life lessons over and over again because you kept forgetting the stinging pain of learning them the first time around.

So, nah, Remy didn’t think of himself being wise—especially when there were a lot more stupid mistakes to his name than the collective living human population. Which led into the second assumption—that Remy held the blueprints on the meaning of life, the universe and everything. Or in other words, he had any idea what he was doing in life.

…Gurl. Gurl, he decided to go to art school on a whim, he barely knew what day it was, did it look like he had his shit together? In fact, that was the secret of being old—the knowledge that nobody, including centuries-old vampires, ever had their shit together and despite the dictations of society there was no “proper way” to live. A secret that took Remy a dumbass long time to learn.

The third most common assumption was that if you’re centuries-old, you had to be obscenely rich. Like swimming in a vault full of golden coins like Scrooge McfuckingDuck rich. And sure, that was a point in Remy’s life where he had that. Centuries ago, where he thought power, fame, and fortune was all that mattered in life. Now, he was completely apathetic to any of that (And no, it absolutely wasn’t because he lost all of that in a stock market crash).

“So, then, what’s immortality really like then?” They’d demand.

Remy would smile, taking a long sip of his drink as he said something innocuous as “Well, for one, vampires are not immune to back pain.”

He didn’t talk about the indescribable gut-punching feeling of waking up one day and realizing you couldn’t remember the names of long-deceased loved ones. He didn’t talk about working yourself into a panic attack trying to grasp whether or not you were the same person today as you were a hundred years ago, nevertheless five-hundred or a thousand years ago. He didn’t talk about how hard it was to cling to good memories and how tough it was to rid your mind of the bad ones.

None of that was never what they wanted to hear and never what he wanted to reveal.

It was why he enjoyed “playing” human as it were. He found humans and their petty, meaningless drama entertaining. Like, hell yeah let’s start drinking coffee as an act of rebellion against a tax placed on our favorite beverage. Or hell yeah let’s make up new paint colors and ban a certain asshole artist from using them after he trademarked exclusive rights to a specific paint color.

Wealth and power had nothing in comparison to having a front row seat to Ellen’s revenge quest against the HOA through malicious compliance.

It also came with the added bonus of being able to piss off the High Elders by choosing to live among humans rather than mingle with vampiric society. The best part? He’d quantifiably done nothing the past few centuries or so. At least nothing they found to their liking. He knew those bastards had to be seething that they couldn’t do anything about it. He mostly didn’t care about it though.

Frankly in Remy’s opinion very little in his life mattered outside of two things:

Knowing about the Drama

Being the Drama

Those were the two things that kept him present in life—anything else? Well, to use a human expression, it simply bored him to sleep. Oh yeah, that was the fourth most common assumption—that it’d be impossible to ever get bored as a quasi-immortal being.

Which trust him, it was waaaay easier than you’d think. There was only so much knowledge one could glean before it all became cluttered up and samey in your brain. Mixing together all the colors imaginable didn’t make one super special cool color—it just made a color of muddish, muted ugly sludge.

Being bored was dangerous. If he was a better person, perhaps he’d put his efforts towards world peace. He thought about it, at times. Then his mind would drift towards how death was an inevitable, all-consuming force. All things die, even “immortal” ones.

So spontaneously becoming a broke college student for the hell of it? It somehow kept him un-bored for a short while.

Maybe it was because the way humans openly taught and shared their art intrigued him. Creative expressions like art were always something private among vampires, shared within covens and rarely to outsider eyes.

(Humans, however, generally encouraged all to enjoy art. Especially that Bob Ross dude. He explained painting in such an unpretentious, calming way that was easy to follow.)

Maybe it was because Remy liked the tactile feeling of charcoal on his fingers. He liked the way a painting could portray a thousand words. He liked how the heaviness was expunged from his soul and onto the paper with dark, broad strokes of color. He liked how art had no inherent meaning. He like how it could be anything and yet nothing all at once.

Maybe it was because it was an excuse to enroll in a university for the party scene. He enjoyed the loud music that drowned out his thoughts, his senses. Alcohol did little to fuddle his mind yet its acidic aftertaste made him feel alive. Humans also always spilled the juiciest gossip after a few drinks.

Even so, the broke college student life wasn’t enough on its own. When he found it bringing a yawn to his throat—he thought he’d kick it up a notch.

That was when he strolled up to a shift manager at Kirby’s Burgers and said, “Hi there, I’m the new hire that’s supposed to start today.” Words that while absolutely not true, scored himself a job regardless.

Truthfully, Remy didn’t need the job. He didn’t have the same worries a human in his position would have. But, fuck it, why not? Being forced in the same building of people you may or may not hate made for better drama than any reality tv had to offer. Pure entertainment values were the only reasons why he did anything in life.

It was also where he met Virgil, who was his work bestie, the person he discussed weird indie music with. Their friendship was as shallow and trivial as any of Remy’s “friends” at the university. Or at least, that was supposed to be the extent of their friendship.

Y’see, Remy wasn’t exactly a “Friendship is Magic” person. Sure, he had friends in the loose, shallow kinda way. Most of it was out of necessity, some of it was for the laughs. He learned like forever ago that there was no point in taking them seriously. It was too predictable, all too booooring when they always ended in heartbreak or betrayal. There were instances where he couldn’t help himself in spite of knowing this.

Such an instance was Virgil. The reason he’d sought out Virgil was not out of necessity or amusement; it began from a spite-driven impulse of “Why the fuck do you secretly hate me?”

Well, not initially. At first, he’d just wanted to be served piping hot tea. In his experience it was always the quiet, withdrawn people that had the best gossip. Because A. Everyone forgets about them and B. They generally kept it to themselves.

Except, except, Virgil was annoyingly immune to the Remy charms. Not his enthrallment charms—because ew, icky, questionable morality issues aside, it took all the fun outta everything.

He preferred to operate life on his genuine charm and charisma. It made things much more interesting. It also came along with the bonus effect of pissing off the High Elders, who watched his every move. They viewed it as harmful to ignore a vampire’s natural inclinations.

Regardless, Virgil refused to engage in any conversation starters Remy threw his way. Even softballs like “What’s your favorite animal?” was met with “Dogs.” without any further explanation. Or Virgil would scurry away, claiming he needed to restock something.

Remy practically gave up when he approached Virgil with “Hey, would you be open to covering my shift this coming Thursday night? There’s, like, this band Starry Starry Sky in town and—"

“Starry Starry Sky?” Virgil interrupted, his eyes alit with excitement, “they’re in town, really?”

Remy knew he’d asked for Virgil’s music tastes before. It was one of the most basic coworker small talks out there. Virgil clammed up at the comment, muttering that he didn’t really listen to music (liar). It turned out, he did listen to music and he had similar tastes as Remy. Which were small weird eccentric bands with fan bases consisting of three people and a corn chip.

Virgil never actually hated him either. There was a similarity between the two although they went separate ways of handling it. Both of them held a distrust of others, preferring to keep to superficial relationships. The difference was that Remy cavorted around with a feigned airs of being an affable busybody while Virgil stood staunchly standoffish with his hackles raised to any and all that approached him.

Remy discovered that Virgil did know how to smile and he could talk for more than a few sentences at a time. His words possessed a biting, sardonic edge to them that only flourished under Remy’s encouragement. They mainly stuck to discussing their music tastes, but there was comfort to be found in trading lighthearted jabs at one another in the midst of frenzied rushes and sluggish down times.

When the fryer incident happened, Remy acted as any concerned person would act. He found a better paying job with a reasonable employer and stole important documents to forge a job application in Virgil’s name. A completely normal human being thing to do (except he wasn’t human, and he definitely cared more than he should for Virgil’s happiness).

Because look, while Remy wasn’t wise—he wasn’t stupid. He could tell Virgil deserved better than the shit that the oh-so-mighty gods threw at him. If no one else was willing to help the human out then for just this once, Remy would.

Even if his “helping” inadvertently reunited Virgil with a member of a werewolf pack who held him captive for a week. It was okay though! Because Remy had gone to Logan and ensured he fully understood the repercussions if any further incident occurred involving Virgil.

He intended at that point to slip away until he was barely a passing memory in Virgil’s existence. It was safer this way, for the sake of himself and for Virgil. He’d linger enough to ensure the human would be okay.

Except, Remy couldn’t stop lingering. He’d grown too dependent on their friendship, too accustomed to rambles about obscure ‘00s bands and debates about the morality of pineapple pizza. It also helped that Virgil was the first human in a long, long while who’d known the truth—and didn’t freak.

Or at least, not until Remy irrevocably fucked things up in the way he’d done.

He didn’t mean to—he’d been trying for weeks to keep himself restrained. Ever since Virgil sought him out that one night in a full-blown panic, barely cognizant of Remy’s presence, Remy had been furious. Not at Virgil, but at the person who hurt Virgil so badly that he’d reinstated his walls again and shut Remy out.

A younger Remy would be already tasting blood. The much-older and weary Remy didn’t want that. Not yet—not when he was certain that would further scare Virgil away from him.

He’d been doing so so good, waiting for Virgil to reach out when he was ready. He hadn’t thought he’d run into Virgil at the nightclub last night. Because he knew Virgil hated loud social environments—he only came to the calmer events held at the college at Remy’s behest. He wasn’t thinking when he insisted Virgil leave with him. It was an urge, an instinct to get Virgil safely away at all costs.

Now, he wasn’t certain if Virgil would ever trust him again.

Remy let out a hum, taking a long sip of his drink. He wasn’t here to think about his many, many screw-ups. Because if he was, he wouldn’t even get through half of them before Cade and Willow shooed him out to close the store.

He needed to focus and slog through this week’s homework and hope Logan kept his promise because otherwise he would hunt the werewolf down and—

“Hey Rem! Long time no see.”

Remy nearly choked on his coffee. He covered it with a loud clearing of his throat, leaning back in his chair. Standing in front of him was a person he wasn’t too surprised to see. It was just bitchy of them to show up right now of all times in his life. Or like, any time ever really.

“Andy.” Remy said, with a smile that was more of a snarl than anything else. Andy raised his eyebrow at the thinly veiled threat display.

“Man, how have you’ve been?” Andy continued, slouching his way uninvited into the chair opposite of Remy’s own, “last I heard you were still six feet under and dead to the world—”

“I’m busy,” Remy interrupted, “can we think about rescheduling this little chit-chat? Like rescheduling it to next Tuesday? Or like never?”

“Gods, what is your problem?” Andy asked as he kicked his feet up against the edge of the table, “can’t I be worried about how an old friend is doing?”

“Mhmm yeah, I don’t think you can with you being a little messenger boy for the High Bastards.” Remy said, lowering his voice to avoid any human eavesdroppers.

Andy chuckled, shaking his head as he responded at a similar octave, “C’mon, I’m more than a messenger boy. I’m a member of the Inner Circle.”

“Like I said, messenger boy,” Remy said, “Now gimme the TLDR of why you’ve broken the rules of engagement. It must be oh so important if you’re out here in broad daylight.”

“We’ve been over this before. Unlike you, I have permission to walk in the Sacred Light to fulfill the will of the High Elders,” Andy said, “You know why I’m here. We don’t hate you, Rem, all we want is to help. Y’know—”

“’—we only wish to see you be blessed with the Sacred Blood once more, so that your strength may return in full and that your eyes are reopened to the truth.’” Remy said in unison with Andy before rolling his eyes, “Bitch, I could literally care less. Like there is not a single ounce of my body that cares, at all.”

Andy recoiled at that, an unidentifiable emotion rippling across his features. There was once a time that Remy would’ve done anything to avoid seeing that emotion again on Andy’s face.

Such a time existed no more, having long since gone and passed into oblivion.

“You’re a moron, you know that? They said you’d deny it again, but I thought, well,” Andy paused for a moment, breathing haggardly, “that you’d finally see how stupid it is to keep deluding yourself with the humans. Especially with that new pathetic one—”

“Don’t,” Remy warned, his eyes gleaming crimson behind his shades, “You don’t get to speak about him. If anything happens to him, I will desecrate those responsible for it, understood?”

Andy sat up, clenching his jaw as he glared down at him.

“Understood?” Remy repeated himself, “Capiche?”

“Understood, but you can’t ignore the High Elders’ graces forever,” Andy said, slowly, “sooner or later, you will be punished accordingly.”

“Oh, is that so?” Remy said, “Go ahead and punish me now, then. Do it, Andy. Try to eviscerate me.”

Andy winced, his body taunt. “Not now, the day hasn’t yet arrived—”

“No, go ahead.” Remy jeered. He shouldn’t taunt him. He was better than this. He should be better than this. He shouldn’t be taking pleasure in Andy's body responding to his command; it propelled in his direction, a hand curling into a fist as it pummeled towards him.

Distantly, he remembered that they were in a coffee shop, a not-so inconspicuous place. At the same time, it was the furthest thing from his mind. He didn’t care—he could always enthrall all the humans and tidy things up nice and neat. So, he allowed the fist to make contact with his face. His head whiplashed from the motion, but he steadied himself by holding onto the table.

“Huh, tickles.” Remy remarked, grinning.

In a smoldering rage, Andy leapt over the table and knocked him to the ground. Then he punched Remy, again and again. It’d been awhile since Remy had been punched in a way that actually stung. He almost relished in it. Perhaps he should just let Andy keep going until he ran out of energy.

As he was mulling this over, a wooden broom clobbered Andy over the head, knocking him away from Remy.

“Sir, I am going to ask you to leave our store premises,” Willow said, holding the wooden broom out like a saber.

“Yeah, or we will be forced to call the cops!” Cade enthusiastically called out.

Cade and Willow stood there, shielding him from Andy. Who in turn stared at Remy, shaking. No, his limbs convulsed with their own desire towards Remy. The shaking was the result of fighting against this impulse.

Remy tried to speak; all that left his mouth was a wheeze. Instead, he gave a small nod towards the other vampire. It was enough confirmation for Andy to turn and sprint towards the front entrance of the coffeeshop. He didn’t look back once as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Cade and Willow did not move. They stood guard, presumably watching Andy’s disappearing figure. It was quiet in the ensuing moment. The only noise in the coffeeshop was the echoing ring of the front door’s bell. So faint that Remy was sure he was the only one of the three to hear it.

The cold floor beneath Remy burned. Or maybe it had something to do with the rolling sickness in his stomach. Contact with the High Elders always brought out the worst side of him.

He shouldn’t have commanded Andy in that way, just as he shouldn’t have enthralled that bartender in front of Virgil last night. For all his talk, he was as twisted and fucked up as the High Elders. Only he was a different flavor of delusional hypocrite than they were. He laughed, burrowing his face into the grimy checkered tiles of the coffeeshop.

“Yo. You okay?” Willow bopped him with the broomstick. Remy didn’t move.

“Um, no, I don’t think anyone would be.” Cade remarked, in the most even-keeled tone that Remy ever heard from him. He crouched close to Remy, “Hey, listen. I don’t know what that was about, and I won’t pry but just so you know that guy is banned forever from our store.”

“Forever?” Remy croaked, the thought almost amusing to him, a quasi-immortal being.

“Well, we aren’t Waffle House,” Willow drawled, “we aren’t going to let people have the freedom to start violently punching people to death.”

“Besides, we gotta protect our favorite regular.” Cade added in.

“Really? Babes, will I still be your favorite regular after I throw up on your floor?”

“Yes of course! Wait, are you serious—”

“He was serious.”

“Y’know,” Remy mused, half-digested coffee dripping from his mouth, “maybe I should’ve went with the eleventh shot today. Think I could’ve used it.”

Fucking fantastic. Perfectly good coffee wasted due to his one millionth mental break down. It was $10.49 he was never getting back. He was almost tempted to try and sip it back up again from the floor.

“—here.”

“Huh?” Remy said, blinking back to reality. A paper napkin held out by Willow obscured most of his vision. Cade was nowhere to be seen.

“A napkin, to wipe off your face.” Willow said, upon sensing his confusion they elaborated, “Cade is a…sympathetic puker.”

“Oh.” Remy grimaced, before taking the napkin and hastily wiping the corners of his mouth. He then stared at the napkin. A small trash can appeared at his side.

“Here. Throw away.” Remy did as instructed. Willow’s hand then pointed towards a comfy sofa in the back corner of the shop, “Go, sit.”

“I can help—”

“Not necessary. I’ll handle it.” Willow insisted.

Remy complied and sat down on the couch. He tapped his fingers against the armrest, staring into nothingness. His skin was too tight, stretched thinly around his figure. Remy was tired, which was ironic because vampires did not exhaust as easily as other beings.

In fact, they didn’t sleep. The closest they came to it was stasis, a trance-like state with lowered conscious processing. They did not ever dream.

He chuffed quietly to himself—sometimes, despite forgetting what it was like to sleep, Remy really yearned for it.

If sleep was an ocean, stasis was a pond. They were both bodies of water, but a pond was a weak replication in comparison to an ocean’s seemingly never-ending vastness. In sleep, beings laid unaware of their surroundings. In stasis, the world always remained on the edges of his consciousness. His senses remained sharp, as if he was still fully conscious.

The purpose of stasis was not rest—it was for memory retention and healing acceleration. Vampires always remained mentally alert and present; if their body lacked energy, it was replenished through feeding. Assuming it wasn’t needed to heal significant injuries, vampires typically drifted into stasis only a few times a year.

So Remy was not tired—he was physically incapable of being tired in the sense the humans and other beings became tired. Yet his body sagged against the cushions as if it were so. His shades dug into the side of his temple, no doubt leaving a red angry impression.

Remy thought he could make good on his promise of being a Halloween decoy for the coffee shop and remain there for the rest of October. After all, his true nature was something that humans feared as much as any other Halloween monster.

It didn’t seem that Cade would let up on his opposition to that promise, however. He came quietly up to Remy—or rather, as quietly as a human could disguise their movement. Remy pretended not to hear him.

“Remy?” Cade asked, all semblance of forced customer service politeness gone.

He turned to look at the human. “Yeah?”

“Is there someone you can call to pick you up?”

“Someone…to call?” Remy repeated, processing his words out loud. He straightened himself, “I’m not drunk, Cade. Trust me, I’m Gucci.”

“You just had someone beat the shit of you,” Willow deadpanned, off to the side, “You possibly have a concussion. You’re in shock.”

Well, shit. From their perspective, it did look that way.

Remy hummed, clasping his hands together, “I’ve experienced way worse, like back in—back during my freshman year of college, like gurl. You would not believe the stories I could tell you!”

“That doesn’t change the severity of it, although that only makes me more worried about what you view as being worse!” Cade said, rocking back on his feet. Willow said nothing as they squinted their eyes at Remy, glossy purple lips pressed to a thin line.

Okay, his theoretical roll for persuasion was a critical failure apparently. Remy breathed in, as he rose to his feet. Cade hovered a few feet away, arms stretched out as if to catch him if he fell. Remy pretended to dust off his leather jacket, buying himself some seconds of thinking time.

See, the thing was: while Remy had his college besties, they just weren’t the type to rely on in an “emergency” situation such as this. Logan would probably be an option, but with the Virgil thing—well, he’d prefer avoiding adding more stress onto the werewolf’s plate.

The obvious solution was enthrallment, even though his mind couldn’t stop plaguing him with the image fresh from last night; Virgil’s eyes glazed over in pure unadulterated panic, as he backed away from Remy, hyperventilating. All because Remy fucked up in his own panic of getting Virgil safely away from the assaulting visage of the night club.

There was no way they could’ve cut their way through the crowd to the front entrance. Not with how Virgil froze up at the barrage of noise and people within the nightclub. So, Remy dragged them to the outskirts, where there had to be a side entrance for employees to dump trash.

When that bartender appeared, Remy didn’t think. He acted impulsively because that was who he was—if he thought too long, it’d be the end of the world. Most of the time, it worked out. There was always some of the time where it didn’t work out.

It was mostly a harmless mental suggestion. You know me—you’ve seen me in passing, even if you can’t place when. Humans hated admitting when they didn’t recognize a person, it made them feel insecure. It was a lie most of them were eager to latch onto. Then similarly, forget you saw us—you have more important things to do. Because there was no reason for her to remember them, not when her mind needed to focus on her job. She most likely would have forgotten on her own regardless. Humans never remembered as much as they claimed they did.

Perhaps he could’ve resolved the issue without enthrallment. Virgil wouldn’t have been the first person to get overstimulated at a nightclub.

Even so, despite all his grand bravado, Remy was a vampire. Some creatures had fight-or-flight. Vampires had fight-flight-or-enthrall. There were instances it was so instinctual, that it occurred without his conscious awareness. Whether he acknowledged it or not, Remy was always projecting something to the impact of “Sup, bitches, I’m a perfectly normal human being” to lessen the chances of avoiding the end of a sharp pointy silver blade.

It wasn’t mind control in the way humans imagined it to be—vampires couldn’t completely rewrite a person’s personality and reshape them to be whatever they desired. There were ways, of course, to make the enthrallment more effective. A much younger, more ambitious Remy gladly made use of those methods.

But the core principle remained true: enthrallments are only as powerful as the human’s belief in them. The less likely they were to believe a suggestion, the less likely for it to be effective.

It unnerved humans, even the ones that were tolerant of supernatural beings. They always asked how much of their friendship was genuine or if Remy simply hypnotized them into liking him.

(Remy hated this question because it was something that also afflicted him late at night, when there was nothing to do other than drown in ones’ incessant thoughts)

It was why Remy hadn’t told Virgil what he was. Selfishly, he refused to answer, making it a game between the two. Then Virgil found out and it’d been okay. He didn’t ask that question and instead asked other questions Remy could answer. He assumed it hadn’t mattered given what set Virgil apart from other humans.

Really, after all these centuries, Remy should’ve known it mattered.

He blinked, bringing up a hand to slide his shades further up the bridge of his nose. See, this was why he disliked thinking. Because when he thought for too long, it was like his mind detached from his body and then was forcibly jammed back into it once he regained awareness. Except it was like a few wires weren’t properly reconnected and it left him feeling wrong. Like every movement, sensation and feeling did not belong to him.

“Remy?” Cade asked, still remaining a few feet away from him. Which was probably for the best—Remy might’ve tried to bite his face off if he approached during his thinking time.

Remy held up a hand—the universal sign for “One moment” and walked with clear, concise steps to the overturned table where all his stuff was sprawled out. Wordlessly, he shoved everything into his messenger bag before turning to face Willow and Cade once more.

“Listen, babes, I get that my throwing up doesn’t help my case—but really I’m fine! I mean yeah, it hurt getting punched, ten outta ten do not recommend but!” Remy cracked his neck, “Like I’ve said, I’ve experienced way worse kinds of crazy shit so this is like nothing. Anyways, sorry about the mess, I’m gonna leave, so ciao!”

This was the essence of “Faking it until you’re making it”; act like everything was normal, act like you were in control, act like the situation was not what it seemed and people will believe you. In most cases. If Remy walked a bit faster than what was humanly possible, it was definitely not because he feared his words wouldn’t have the desired effect.

An arm stuck out in front of his face before he could reach the front door. Remy staggered a bit back to avoid colliding with the person—who was apparently Willow.

“Listen, it’s like incredibly stupid to let you leave considering you could be in shock from bleeding internally,” They began.

“Yes, it’s suuuper unsafe! We could probably get sued!” Cade chimed in.

“But if you insist on leaving,” Willow continued as they fished out a phone from their pocket, “would you at least text us to know you got to your place safe?”

Remy looked down at their phone, opened up to a new contact. He didn’t know what to make of this, other than he had done enough thinking for today. As long as this appeased their concerns enough into letting him leave, he’d do it.

“Yeah, sure,” Remy managed, reaching for the phone, “no probs.”

He rapidly typed out his phone number, saved his contact under “Remy 🧀 🐀”, gave the phone back to Willow, and then left before there could any further objections from the humans.

The sidewalks of the city bustled at its hurried pace, a sense of normalcy that was smoothening. Remy could almost pretend that the past few days hadn’t occurred. Which, N-G-L, Remy was fucking done with the past few days.

He was going to return to his dorm room and scroll through Tiktok for the rest of his life (or until his phone battery died because he forgot to charge it). Or maybe, he’d finally take care of that project for his oil painting class he’d been putting off. Anything was fine as long as it allowed him to not think for too long.

The sun was setting as he reached the dorms, bringing a blissed relief to his eyes. As much as the shades aided in being able to withstand light, it was’ bothersome to be constrained in such a way. When he entered his dorm room, he was going to leave the lights off and allow himself to be delightfully swaddled up within the darkness. His body almost ached at the thought of it.

So, one could probably understand how pissed off he was that a scent stopped him short from entering the dorm building. It was a faint yet familiar scent of another supernatural being, one he couldn’t quite place.

It couldn’t be Andy. He was certain he’d frighten Andy off enough that he wouldn’t see signs of him for months. If it was the other vampire, then their shared past was going to mean very little in the face of Remy’s ire. Regardless of whoever it was, he knew without a doubt the scent belonged to someone that shouldn’t be near his dwelling. It was fresh, meaning the person was nearby, no doubt watching him.

“Okaaaay!” Remy said, loud enough for anyone with exceptional ears to hear, “whoever you are, you and I are going to go to the back of the building, near the dumpsters, and you have five seconds to tell me what you want before I tear your throat to pieces.”

Remy didn’t look, but as he made his way behind the dorm building, he could hear a second set of footsteps accompany his every movement.

#Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides Fic #Remy Sanders #Sleep Sanders #kat writes

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 9 months

Note

been seriously considering how many dishes i’ll have to wash when making food this week and every time i do i think of the pumpkin spice latte fic(beloved). ideal brain connection tbh

AJ i love you (platonically) so much fasdfsdfkjlasdhkl

i want to hack my brain to think about ✨them✨ while i do the dishes. maybe i should get a pumpkin spice candle for dishes time. i can't think of anything better to think about than sleepxiety shenanigans while doing dishes

#lgbtqforeverything #pumpkin spice

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snowdice · 3 years

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It’s a Boy! (Sometimes Labels Shift Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil & Remy, Remy & Logan, Remy & Patton, Patton/Logan

Characters: Remy, Virgil, Logan, Patton

Summary: Remy gets Logan and Patton a card for their acquisition of a new child. Remy so adored inputting invalid command lines into the computer that was Logan’s mind.

Notes: This takes place a couple of days after my story Sometimes Labels Fail.

Remy rang the doorbell of Patton and Logan’s house with a huge smile on his face. Logan opened the door after a few seconds. Remy wondered what showed on his face to make Logan’s eyes narrow. “Why are you here?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Remy placed his hand over his chest, feigning insult. To be fair, if anyone other than Logan had taken that tone with him, he would have assumed he was being insulted. As it was, Logan actually seemed mostly pleased to see him. “I just wanted to meet my best friend’s new child.”

“Your name is on the police report, Remington,” Logan reminded.

“So it is,” Remy agreed with a smile.

Logan rolled his eyes and stepped aside. “Come in. Virgil is currently on the couch, though please be quiet entering. He has been dozing off and on but startles awake easily.”

Remy nodded and softened his footsteps. However, when they walked into the living room, it became clear there had been no need. Virgil was already sitting up, propped up on a bunch of pillows on the couch, fully awake and watching television. His eyes immediately darted over to them when they entered the room and he went tense in the moment before he recognized them, but then cautiously relaxed.

“Remy?” he asked.

“Sup, kid,” Remy said. “How’s it been? ‘Sides the bullet wound.”

“Uh,” he said, his fingers playing with the edge of the blanket covering him. Patton had obviously been hard at work considering the ridiculous number of pillows and blankets around him. “Pretty good.”

“Great,” Remy replied. “I figured the nerd’s been making you eat heathy stuff, so I brought you a double bacon cheeseburger and curly fries with cheese.” He tossed the brown bag of grease onto the couch. “Also, a 20oz of your favorite black tar.” He sat the coffee cup down next to him. ��Or I brought an extra Remy Special if I can temp you.” He winked.

“No.”

Remy sighed. “Fine, Logan this one’s yours,” he shoved the Remy Special at him.

Logan let Remy hold it to his chest without taking it. “No.”

Remy could see the family resemblance already. “Fine, guess I’ll just have to drink it.” He took a long sip through the straw, making eye contact with a disgusted Logan.

“And this is the second one you’ve consumed today?”

“Third actually.”

“Did you invade my house solely to overdose on caffeine and sugar?”

“It’s called being a good friend and coming to check on someone when they’re injured or sick, Professor Oblivious,” he said, gesturing at Virgil who was already cautiously investigating the bag of food as if it might eat him. “But, I also brought you and Patton Cake a gift.”

“It’s yours. Go ahead and eat it if you’d like. We can put your dinner in the refrigerator if you end up not being hungry, but you don’t have to,” Logan told Virgil. Virgil reached in to grab a fry and lit up when he ate it. Cute. Logan turned back to Remy. “Is this ‘gift’ more horrible coffee?”

“You can’t say something tastes horrible if you haven’t tasted it,” Remy sang.

“I can if it’s verifiably inedible.”

Remy ignored that. “Where’s Patton?”

“He’s in the kitchen.”

“K. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to hang out for a bit, if that’s alright, kid,” Remy said.

“Uh, yeah, alright,” he replied through a mouthful of fries.

Remy turned towards Patton’s kitchen, Logan following behind him. Patton glanced up from what he was doing when Remy entered and smiled.

“Hi Remy,” he greeted. He was wearing an apron that Remy had gotten for him a couple of years ago and flour was everywhere, including on his nose.

“Hey. Stress baking, Patty?” Remy asked.

Patton glanced at his surroundings sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure what he’d like.”

“Stress baking about what to bake. That’s a new one Pat.”

Patton just shrugged. “We’ve been trying not to overwhelm him by hovering.” Translation: Logan physically dragged me out of the room earlier because I wouldn’t stop offering tea or fluffing his pillows every three seconds.

“That’s probably for the best,” Remy said.

“Mmm.”

“Now will you explain why you are in my house without an invite?” Logan asked.

“Logan.”

“Well,” Remy said. “The two of you neglected to invite me to the baby shower.” Logan gave him a confused blink. “I’m torn up about it, by the way.” Patton rolled his eyes. “So, I came to meet the new baby boy and give you guys this.” He slapped down the ‘It’s a Boy!’ card he’d picked out a couple of days ago on the countertop.

He saw Patton shake his head out of the corner of his eyes, but Remy’s attention was mostly trained on Logan. Logan was frowning. He opened his mouth. Here, we go, thought Remy gleefully.

“That card is not the correct one to give considering the circumstances.”

“You just got a new kid,” Remy said.

“That type of card is customarily give to parents of new babies. Virgil is 15.”

“Oh, I think it’s perfect for this occasion.”

Logan’s frown just got deeper. “That card is clearly made exclusively for babies. I am unsure why you think giving it to us is correct.”

“Nah.”

Logan’s eye got all twitchy. Remy so adored inputting invalid command lines into the computer that was Logan’s mind. “The statement of ‘it’s a boy,’” he started, “clearly indicates that the recipient was unaware of the sex of the child they acquired until recently. This is not the case with Virgil.”

“Eh. Sounds fake.”

“What sounds fake?!”

“Big time fake.”

Patton sighed. “Will you be staying for dinner Remy?”

“This is preposterous. This card makes no sense in this context!”

“You just don’t get me,” Remy said. Smoke was going to start coming out of Logan’s ears in a couple of seconds and personally, Remy was living for it.

“I’ll… take that as a yes,” Patton sighed.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #remy sanders #platonic sleepxiety #not pieces fic #logicality #labeled universe #sometimes labels shift #adriana writes #seven days of snowdice

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more-incorect-quotes · 4 years

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What Virgil and Remus we’re doing during the SvS Redux

Virgil laughing his ass off with Remy at Starbucks: O-Ok, so you’re telling me that you BOUGHT Starbucks for a group of- HAH- Pigeons?!

Remy: ACTUALLY. It’s StarBIES and THEY WERE HUNGRY- sobbing

with Remus

Remus, at a Therapy Session with Emile Picani: How do I say “I feel alone” but in a dirty minded way so that I’m still me but I don’t want to be me because my disgusting personality has lead to 3 people leaving me?

Emile, handing Remus his Stitch plushie: Remus, are you, like, okay?

Remus, crying into the plushie: N-No, I’m not...

#virgil sanders #remy sanders #remus sanders #emile picani #incorrect sanders sides quotes #platonic sleepxiety #platonic emilus #submission #remus angst #angst #ts incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #thomas sanders #tw cursing

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sleepyvirgilprompts · 4 years

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Virgil can’t fall asleep, which is keeping Thomas awake, so Remy cuddles Virgil to sleep.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #sanders sides prompts #fanfiction prompt #remy sanders #ts remy #sleepxiety cuddles #platonic sleepxiety

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canvas-the-florist · 3 years

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When Cute Boys Give you Lemons...

Ship: Platonic or Romantic Sleepxiety (leaning towards platonic gonna be real)

Warnings: Food, swearing, panic attacks

Summary: Virgil is panicking at this disco, and a stranger attempts to help! AO3 Link: Here

Word Count: 440

It shouldn’t have led to this. This was just too much for Virgil to handle. He stared at his trembling hands before fully curling himself into a ball on the floor. If only having crippling anxiety came with the perk of not feeling guilt for his actions. Virgil laughed to himself through his tears. ‘Humor is the best coping mechanism’ after all. Well, according to his friend Remus who loved masking his insecurities with dirty jokes. Virgil didn’t even know what he was doing here, but it wasn’t supposed to be bad. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave, or even move, however much he desperately wanted to.

“Is this seat taken?” Virgil didn’t bother moving and grunted a response back at the stranger, despite knowing he was on the concrete outside a really loud house party. He heard the shuffling on them sitting down. “Your friend, Logan said you’d be out here but I didn’t know this is what he meant. Oh well, not everyone enjoys parties but that’s perfectly fine.”

Virgil moved slightly to look at this stranger. He was wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses, despite it being 10 at night and relatively hot outside. His attempt to respond failed when he hiccuped through his sobs. The stranger gave a smile.

“Take your time, do you want to bite into a lemon slice?” As he said this, he held out one in his hand. Virgil, mostly out of feigned politeness, took it and bit into it.

His tears stopped as he whispered. “What the fuck?”

The sour taste was overwhelming and Virgil felt better out of pure confusion. He looked at the stranger with wide eyes and back to the lemon. It looked much sadder with all the juice gone from the middle of it. The stranger gave a hearty laugh and took the lemon slice back. Virgil brushed his hands against his jeans, attempting to get the stickiness out.

“I saw a TikTok trend about it a while ago,” He shrugged. The stranger held up a small glass to let Virgil look. “The lemon is actually from my drink. I think it’s a type of grounding technique? I’m Remy, by the way.”

After a moment, Virgil was pretty sure that he hadn’t been introduced to someone quite like this before. He gave a soft smile, trying to clean his face with his hoodie sleeve. “Virgil. Why did you talk to Logan to find me?”

#sleepxiety #platonic sleepxiety #romantic sleepxiety #remy sanders #virgil sanders #mentioned logan sanders #ts logan #food #swearing #sanders sides

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

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All the Reasons I Love You

Ao3

Summary: Virgil wished he could say he didn't believe his mother. Wished he could say he knew her ugly words were also ugly lies and nothing more. But even lies could hold truths, and in this case, Virgil knew hers did- after all, really, who would want to love someone as broken as him? Content: Panic attacks/anxiety, mentally/emotionally abusive parent, mentions of death/dying as jokes (as in no one’s actually dead they just joke that they’re going to be), self-deprecation, self-esteem/self-worth issues, nb!Remy, genderfluid!Logan Pairings: Platonic to romantic Analogical, background romantic Losleep, platonic Sleepxiety, ambiguous future Analosleep

You’re better than this.

I know you’re not this weak. Why do you always act like you are?

No one’s going to want to pick you up if you keep falling apart.

Virgil slammed his locker shut, leaning his forehead against the cold metal. He and his mom had had another fight the night before, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Correction: He had had a panic attack and his mother had yelled at his prone and shaking form. She just called it a fight because then it made it look like they were both in the wrong.

Virgil couldn’t even remember what had caused it- something she had said, probably, but who knows. All he really remembers is not being able to breathe, falling off the couch as he struggled to get through his counting exercises, his mother watching him with open scorn as she belittled him.

“You’re never going to get a wife like this.” She had said as he choked on his own hurried breaths. “No one’s going to care about you if you’re so useless.”

It was always about marriage. As if that mattered to Virgil. His mom didn’t even know he was queer- something he had no plans to ever tell her. He had just focused on trying to breath, a task that had become a little easier once his mother had given up with her insults, stalking off to aggressively wash the dishes. As soon as he could stand without the world completely greying out, Virgil had run off to his room, locking himself in and staying there until he had to leave for school the next day.

“Greetings, Virgil.”

Virgil turned his head, still pressing the side of his face against the locker even as he looked at the speaker. Logan was as put together as always- their black and midnight blue hair was pulled into a neat braid, and they were wearing a simple NASA t-shirt that was tucked into their clean and un-ripped jeans. Pinned to the dark leather jacket they had on was both their genderfluid pride pin and their ‘they/them pronouns’ pin.

“Hey, Lo.” He returned, finally moving so that his shoulder was leaned against his locker and not his head. “Remy give you xir jacket?”

“I stole it.” Logan responded. When Virgil raised an eyebrow at them, Logan sighed. “Fine, yes, xe gave it to me and refused to let me give it back.”

Virgil chuckled. “I think Remy’d give you the world if you wanted it. Xe’s not going to make you steal xir jacket.”

Logan smiled, the corner of their mouth tipping up. “Fair enough.” They said happily. Their smile fell in the next moment, however, being replaced by what Virgil was sure was meant to be a neutral expression but instead came out as a very nervous one. “Virgil, I was wondering if you are free after school today?”

“Um, I am.” Virgil said, frowning in worry. “Why?”

“I need- want- need to discuss something with you.” Logan said before adding on quickly, “It’s nothing bad, I assure you.”

“Uh huh.” Virgil said, tone faintly disbelieving. He appreciated that Logan had tried to ease the anxiety they clearly knew would flare at the words ‘I need to discuss something with you’ with the addition, but given how hurriedly they had added it and the fact that their fingers were tapping repeated against their thigh (one of their nervous stims), it hadn’t helped much. “As long as I can get a ride home, I’m free.”

Logan nodded. “Of course. Meet you in the park?”

“Works for me.” Virgil responded. Logan nodded again, just as the bell rang.

“I have to go.” Logan said, as if Virgil didn’t also have to go. “I have chess at lunch, so I won’t see you then- after school, though, I will?”

“Yeah, you will.” Virgil confirmed.

“Great.” Logan said, their tapping stopping for a moment as they smiled. “Have a good day, Virgil.”

“You too.” Virgil told them as they turned and rushed down the hall, trying to beat the bell to chemistry. Virgil remained at his locker a moment longer, his classroom close enough he wasn’t worried about tardiness, instead allowing his mind to briefly wander and settle upon what he was worried about- his newly set after school meeting.

“I’m going to die.”

Remy took a long, noisy slurp of xir iced coffee. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I-”

“Hun, as fun as this is, I do not need to deal with you getting yourself stuck in an anxiety spiral right now.” Remy interrupted him, now checking xir nails, painted in shades of black and pink, the colour choice having clearly been made to match with xir pink tank top and black jacket. Virgil thought it still worked, even if xe’s jacket was currently being worn by xir partner. “You haven’t even explained why you think today’s your last.”

Virgil slumped over the table, letting out a groan. “Logan wants to talk to me after school.”

“So…?”

“So, they were clearly nervous about it!” Virgil exclaimed, turning his face downwards and pressing it against the table top. “They’re going to kill me.”

Remy laughed. “No offense, darling, but I don’t think Logan’s much of a killer. Well, killer looks aside. Besides, what do you care? More time with your friend and crush can’t exactly be the worst thing the world-”

“Crush-!” Virgil jerked back up, eyes wide. “They’re not my crush!”

Remy titled xir sunglasses down so that xe could stare at Virgil in disappointment. “Sugar, you ain’t subtle.”

“Yes- but- you’re dating them!” Virgil resorted to, as if Logan being a taken enby made it impossible for Virgil to think they were cute and nice and clever and-

“I’m poly, they’re poly,” Remy shrugged as xe spoke, pausing to sip xir drink, “I’m not exactly the jealous type… if you’ve got a thing for them, babes, you might as well just admit it.”

Virgil didn’t respond immediately, but soon enough he was slumping down again, crossing his arms on the table and resting his head on top of them. “Yeah, alright, whatever.”

Remy smirked. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to die at that meeting.”

Remy sighed. “You’re not going to die at that meeting.”

Virgil glared heatlessly at Remy. “You can’t promise that.”

“They’re my boo, I’ll make sure they don’t kill ya.” Remy said, pulling xir phone out of xir pocket and checking xir messages. “Hmph.”

“What is it?”

“Logan’s reminding me iced coffee doesn’t count as lunch.” Remy said, looking back at Virgil with a mildly exasperated smile. “That nerd won’t let me get away with half my old habits anymore. It’s almost annoying.”

“Self-care being gently forced upon you by your beloved.” Virgil said, tone dry with sarcasm as he finished, “Yeah, that sounds awful.”

“Oh, hush.” Remy said, waving xir hand dismissively as xe put xir phone away. “And come on. I’m not letting you get away with ‘I had a big breakfast’ if Logan won’t let me get away with iced coffee.”

Virgil huffed but he still got up. “Why must you force your partner’s policies upon me?”

“Because you’re my friend so I want you to practice self-care too, and I don’t want to suffer alone.” Remy said as xe headed for the cafeteria doors, Virgil following xem. “Plus, I figure they’re gonna be both our partner soon enough anyways-”

“What?!”

“Oh, uh,” Remy faltered for a moment, glancing back at Virgil, eyes masked by xir sunglasses but xir expression obviously conflicted. It smoothed out after a moment, however, and xe continued confidently, “well, your secret is officially out now, sweetheart. Shouldn’t take me too long to get y’all matched!”

“I- oh- Remy-” Virgil tripped over his words, biting his tongue as Remy stopped to look at him in confusion. “You don’t have to do that, Rem, really.”

“Trust me, sugar, it’ll be my pleasure.” Remy assured him, resuming xir walk towards the exit. “Won’t harm either of us if I try, anyways, yeah?”

Virgil didn’t reply to that, simply continuing to follow Remy in silence. Because it could harm one of them, specifically himself, when he was forced to confront Logan’s reaction- which could range anywhere from awkward pity to outright disgust.

After all, while his mother certainly had no right to say the things she said, the things she said were still true… and Logan was so capable, so smart and able to take care of themself… well.

Someone like them wouldn’t fall in love with a ball-and-chain.

Virgil was going to die.

He was standing at the entrance to the park, Logan seated at a picnic table not too far away from where he was hovering. They hadn’t seen him yet, busy scribbling something or another on their paper, but Virgil knew he didn’t have forever to panic.

So he was taking what time he did have to mega-panic.

He had briefly considered running away from the whole situation, but Remy was watching him from the street, waiting in the car and playing the role of both waiting chauffeur and watchdog.

“You’ll do fine, darling.” Remy had assured him, smirking. “Though, if Logan does kill you, I’m obligated by partner code to help them hide your body.”

That exchange had not put Virgil at ease.

Virgil wasn’t even close to finishing his several internal panic attacks when he realized Logan had looked up from their work and spotted him. They were waving him over, smiling. Virgil gulped and tried not to wobble as he made his approach.

“There you are.” Logan greeted, voice warmer than Virgil had expected from them. His ‘stolen’ jacket now bore both their ‘he/him’ and ‘they/them’ pronoun pins. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t coming.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Virgil said, trying to hide the tremor in both his voice and hands as he sat down across from Logan. “Just had to stay a bit late in sixth- sorry.”

“It is perfectly alright. No need to apologize.” Logan assured him as he started pushing their papers into his bag. The quick look at them that Virgil got revealed them to not be the equations he had been expecting to see- instead, it was simply covered in back-and-forth lines and meaningless doodles; distractions, things to focus on instead of whatever had them so worked up.

So this meeting had Logan stressed too. Great. Super. Utterly fantastic.

Virgil bit down on the inside of his mouth, trying to keep what little bit of his cool he had left. “So. Something you needed to talk to me about?”

“Uh- yes.” Logan confirmed, though Virgil didn’t miss his hesitation. They looked away from Virgil, his hand once more on their thigh and tapping out a beat too fast for any song to follow.

“...Can I know what it is you need to talk to me about?” Virgil asked, really starting to hate this theme of him starting the conversation. He wasn’t good at it normally, and right now he felt he was only doing worse.

Logan nodded, but didn’t say anything right away. Virgil nodded too, an echo of Logan’s movement, deciding to give Logan their time to respond. A minute or two stretched before Logan took in a deep breath, the tapping on his thigh finally coming to a stop as they turned to Virgil. He smiled, a small nervous thing that immediately had Virgil even more on edge.

“Virgil,” They started, that one word alone spiking Virgil’s blood pressure, “you are my friend of five years. I have known you since seventh grade. I like to believe that, in the span of time between then and now, we have grown… close.”

“That’s how friendships work, specs.” Virgil said, trying to beat down the demon of paranoia that had arisen to explain to him that Logan was clearly about to disown him, or perhaps shoot him.

“I am aware, trust me, I just-” Logan cut himself off, laughing nervously and glancing away for a moment before once more returning their gaze to Virgil, “I’m no good at this.”

Virgil laughed a bit too, albeit more anxiously than nervously. “And what’s ‘this’?”

Logan let out a breath. “You are aware that I am dating Remy?”

“Hard not to be, what with you wearing xir jacket and everything.”

“And you are aware that I am polyamrous and that we are in an open relationship?”

Virgil swallowed. “Remy told me earlier today, yeah, though I don’t see why that could be important-”

“I like you!” Logan exclaimed, suddenly, almost panickedly. “Well, love you, more accurately put, but I hope I get my point across-” Logan itched at the back of their neck, looking sheepish. Virgil, for his part, had been frozen since Logan had said those first three words. “I meant to do this much more… eloquently, but I- well, I’m never good with this. You can ask Remy, I yelled it at xem in the middle of a Starbucks- Virgil? Are you okay?”

Virgil, to his mixed horror and humiliation, didn’t respond, finding himself still functionally frozen in place. His unresponsive exterior wasn’t a very accurate depiction of his inner turmoil, however- he could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his heartbeat drumming in his ear, his lungs constricting and his throat closing up.

Useless

Weak

No one’s going to want you

Virgil hated that he knew he was only proving the voices right- proving his mother right. But he couldn’t help it. All he could do was choke on nothing and wait for the insults he knew would soon be coming-

“Virgil!”

When had Logan gotten so close? Virgil could’ve sworn he was seated across from him, but now they were next to him, and his eyes were really wide, and they looked really worried and that couldn’t be good so why was Logan worried what had him worried-

“Virgil, I need you to breathe with me.” Logan’s voice was much calmer this time, and Virgil was much more inclined to listen to it. It was reassuring, grounding, familiar.

He jerked when his hand was touched, but when he realized it was Logan holding his hand, gently guiding it to rest on their chest as he breathed exaggeratedly, he relaxed, trying his hardest to follow Logan’s breaths.

Virgil wasn’t sure the last time he had come down from a panic attack so quickly. It helped, he thought vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, to have someone helping you instead of yelling at you.

“Virgil?” Logan repeated Virgil’s name once more, this time softly, concern colouring his tone. “Are you okay?”

“I- yeah.” Virgil said, still feeling breathless. He didn’t try to move from his position, hunched over and leaning towards Logan, the hand Logan had pressed against their chest remaining there. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Logan told him easily, lowering his hand from their chest but still holding it, helping to keep Virgil grounded. “If anyone should be apologizing, Virgil, it’s me. I never thought that my confession might- I didn’t think about how your anxiety might cause you to react, and I am so, so sorry for that.”

Virgil waved him off with his free hand. “Don’t worry about it.” Logan opened their mouth to respond, but Virgil simply waved dismissively once more. “You couldn’t have known, Lo. It’s not your fault.”

Logan didn’t make any response to that, but Virgil could tell they wanted to. The silence stretched for a moment before Logan began, “If you want to go home now-”

“Why?”

Logan shut up the moment Virgil spoke, eyes wide as they looked at him in confusion. “Why what?”

“Why- why me?” Virgil asked, disliking how weak he sounded but having no way to remedy it. “I mean, you already have Remy, and I-”

Logan still looked confused. “Why you?” They repeated, perplexed. “Why wouldn’t it be you?”

Virgil chuckled, but it was harsh yet shaky. “I’m an anxious mess who overthinks everything! I have a panic attack every other week! I had a panic attack when you tried to tell me you loved me! I don’t exactly have that many redeeming qualities- especially when you look to Remy, who’s got confidence, and style, and-”

Logan’s small smile returned as he squeezed Virgil’s hand, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Virgil, I’m not picking out partners based on objective merit. If I was, I wouldn’t be dating Remy.”

“Xe’s your partner-”

“Xe’s sweet and has no braincells.” Logan corrected, still smiling. “But I love xem, because I think xe’s cute, and xe makes me happy- simple as that.”

Logan was looking at Virgil now, his smile growing as they moved to hold one of Virgil’s hands in both of his own. “Yes, you have anxiety, and yes, you have panic attacks, but that doesn’t nullify all the reasons I love you.”

“Reasons you… reasons you love me?” Virgil repeated, voice quiet and vulnerable.

“You’re thoughtful regarding everything you do.” Logan said without preamble. “And you’re respectful towards all. When bored, you doodle band logos on the backs of your hands, and you run your fingers through your hair when you’re stressed. You sing rock songs under your breath when you think no one can hear and your voice is heavenly when you do so. And sometimes you smile without even realizing it, and I- I think you’re prettiest then, because you’re relaxed and you’re happy and you’re absolutely beautiful.”

Virgil didn’t know how to respond to that outside of gaping at Logan, feeling once more breathless but now in a good way. “Really?” He managed, just barely.

Logan squeezed Virgil’s hand again, scooting closer to him so that their knees could bump up against each other. “I would never lie to you, Virgil, not about this.”

Virgil nodded, more to himself than Logan. “Okay.” He said, quietly.

“Pardon?”

“Okay.” Virgil repeated, this time louder, before he allowed himself to slump fully forwards, head falling upon Logan’s shoulder, exhaustion from the panic attack and the sudden need to be much closer to Logan mingling together and pushing him forwards. Logan reacted immediately, releasing Virgil’s hand to wrap their arms around him instead, holding him close but not too tightly.

“So…” Logan started, uncertainly, though not as nervous as they had been when Virgil first arrived in the park. “If I asked you to be my boyfriend… what would you say?”

“Yes.” Virgil replied without a thought, the answer already long decided. “I’d- I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

Almost as soon as he had said that, Virgil could feel Logan pressing a kiss to his head, gentle and sweet. “Good. Because I’d love to be your partner.”

Virgil pressed himself closer to Logan, head still pressed into his shoulder. “Lo?”

“Yes, my love?”

A giddy little smile appeared on Virgil’s lips at the petname. “I love you.”

Logan chuckled at that, also sounding rather giddy themself, choosing to press another kiss to Virgil’s head. “I love you too.”

Virgil knew the moment wouldn’t last forever. Soon enough, he’d be once more asking if this was possible and deciding it was not, doubting Logan and their love and falling back into the familiarity of his mother’s words.

But Logan would be there when that happened, just like he was now, to hold Virgil and remind him of the truth- to love him. Because Virgil knew that this wasn’t perfect. But he also knew that it was real.

And that was enough.

#analogical #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remy #ts sleep #background losleep #ambiguous (future) analosleep #basically do you think remy and virgil would remain metamours or also end up together #it's y'all's call #platonic sleepxiety #the cryptid speaks #ts sides #sanders sides #fanfic #fanfiction #nb!remy #genderfluid!logan #logan stims because in my head they have ADHD #but it's barely there so idk see it as you will i guess

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