#the sun and the moon analogy is one of my favorite I love them so much aaaah

[al-kemist]

☀️ The sun and the moon 🌙

[kates-dump]

My experience with Analog Horror/ARGs and why you should check them out

Marble Hornets: the classic, and a big favorite of mine for obvious reasons. I cannot stress enough how good and spooky that series is, and the ToTheArk videos gave me nightmares, love it! <3

If you're into Slenderman stories, you should definitely check it out. The acting is very well done and the story is awesome overall :)

The Sun Vanished: the ARG that started my interest for ARGs, and especially enigmas/internet puzzles. Unfortunately I was not smart enough to figure the stuff out by myself, so I just watched explanations on it. Highly recommended if you like post-apocalyptic settings and subtle horror.

The Mandela Catalogue: possibly the series that brought back my interest for these things. I have only watched the first two seasons of it, as I sadly lost interest after a while, but from what I have watched, I would recommend it to those of you who like horror with religious themes (which is a big thing for me) and most importantly, trust issues. Do keep in mind this series deals with more serious and dark topics, though you have probably heard it already.

Local58: the analog horror of all analog horrors, Local58 barged in before TMC took the spotlight. There is so much going on and all of it is very interesting and scary. America's pride leads to its doom, the moon can control electronic devices, and weird creatures spread through the world. If you like stories that leave you not understanding what the hell just happened but loving it anyway, you will love Local58.

Rocket Archives: A single-video series that has unfortunately been taken down for reasons I am not certain of. But if you're curious what it was about, the video presented a reality where us humans were forced to leave Earth with how hot it was getting, and moved to contained bubbles in space. Suddenly, uh oh! The sun's getting closer! Outer Wilds moment! Everything is melting! Humans are gone and the sun is... alive???

Analog Archives: made by the creator of Rocket Archives, has also been taken down but can still be found re-uploaded. The series is slightly similar to Local58, as in it also focuses on broadcast hijacking used for ending off humans. The series also includes a few religious topics that can get very dark. I love it. "Nature Show" makes me tear up with fear every time.

Gemini Home Entertainment: ALL-TIME FAVORITE MOMENT!!! I don't think I need to explain why I love this one so much. GHE leaves a lot to your imagination/speculation, while also twisting your head directly into the direction of the threat and forcing you to look at it while you squirm in fear. GHE is subtle in the most obvious way, obvious in the most subtle way, and most importantly, IT'S COSMIC HORROR, BABY!!! THERE IS A PLANET IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM THAT GOT HERE UNINVITED AND NOW IT WANTS TO EAT US!!! UGHHHH I can't put in words why I think it's so good, it just is. Watch it. The Gardeners are cute, I swear. There's even a plush of them.

Monument Mythos: something something alternate realities, something something time loops. I have not watched all of it, barely even half, but I deemed it a little bit too confusing for my brain. BUT! If you're into things that boogle your mind, you might really like this series! I mean, world monuments are alive, what could be scarier?

Vita Carnis: EW. (affectionate)

But, seriously, if you like gross, you are certainly going to like this series. It's meat, and it's alive. Although, I did stop watching it because it got a tad too graphic and violent for my taste, but if that doesn't bother you, then I recommend it a lot! The editing is soooo good, and some of the creatures are very likable and cute ^v^ (the others are gross and I do not want them near me I do not WANT FUCK OFF)

Don't Look at the Moon: Minecraft spooky. Do I need to say more?

[llondonfog]

I've been thinking about the eclipse all day. I feel like movies and shows use the eclipse as something dramatic and thrilling, but my experience was very peaceful and comforting. When the sky got dark, the sun felt harsher and more scorching in the brief seconds I accidentally looked at it, all the way up to when the moon totally covered it and it was suddenly like this soft and beautiful nightlight. Like the eye of a hurricane. I can't help but think about the knight of dawn and Silver. They could only be together for a few moments in time, and fate just couldn't keep them together, but I imagine the little minutes they had were quiet and sweet

oh anon, this is so bittersweet and precious, i love this analogy.

we know from ch7 so far that the knight died shortly after silver's birth. we also know that the time of silver's birth was a tumultuous one for the knight and his kingdom, with warring factions of other human nations vying for control and pushing the boundaries of their borders. with this in mind, it's devastating to realize how little time he got to spend with his newborn child— a child he loved so dearly, and enough to willingly sacrifice himself in a desperate bid to protect their existence. it's even worse when you realize that there seems to be no mention of silver's kingdom in twst's history books— the only connections that silver has to his birth father are lilia's memories and the ring around his neck. there are no stories that exist for silver to understand his father, to learn not just of his character, but who he was as a person. who was the knight? how did he fall in love with silver's mother? what kind of food did he like? what was his favorite color? did he cry when silver was born? did he hold his son close and whisper a long-dead name with such fragile tenderness, did he look at silver as if he saw the sun itself and was blinded by love?

i like to imagine what those few stolen moments of peace might have been— the felt animals that the knight sewed by hand clutched in silver's baby-fat fingers, the cascade of the knight's hair like a gold curtain over his son's face as he hums a lullaby and spins him slowly around a richly decorated room. the awe in the knight's eyes as he dares to touch the soft cheek of a creature so pure and innocent, born of him and yet with none of the bloodstained shadows in his wake. the way his heart must have ached at the giggles of his son, an already happy child, as the babe stuck fistfuls of golden hair into his mouth and blew bubbles around them.

he loved his child, his little prince, his sun in the dawn sky. he loved his child enough to die for him.

in any case, i'm so glad to hear you got to savor that special moment during the eclipse. i know i was stunned into silence staring up at the halo of totality, looking up at something so magnificent that it truly made me feel how tiny and in awe i am of the miraculous wild world that we live in <3 we really experienced a once in a lifetime event and i'm so thankful for it.

(may i also offer: killswitch lullaby - flawed mangoes is a piece that i often have on repeat when i'm thinking about silver and the knight; those dreamy and peaceful, what could have been vibes for something so far off in the nostalgic distance)

[daunsun]

oOOOOOooOooooo sosososo for baseball au, how did u decide on the positions? and the jersey numbers? im also curious about the rest of the team? who'd the catcher be? what teams do they play against? do u reckon they'd play against like, the old animatronics from different branches of fazbear entertainment? oh oh what if they played against the animatronics from the walten files series? or some other analog horror series? wAIT IS WILLIAM THE COACH??????? HOW MANY GAMES HAVE THEY WON?? WAIT WAIT ALSO ALSO-

sorry for ramble i have so many questions about this au bc it is very cool yaaaaaaaaaa

OOOOOOOOO thank you for asking chair I love your asks

The positions actually had a good amount of thought behind them! I picked Sun for second base because from my own personal experience, second base has to communicate lots with other players, constantly move from side to side around their base, and really just needs lots of energy and range. I thought Sun would be a good fit for that, plus it sounded funny in my head for him to be the one shouting the plays. As for Moon's role as pitcher, he already has a good figure for it, very flexible and lean to get the full range of motion, and he'd totally get a kick out of tricking the batter as to what kind of pitch he's going to throw. He may not be actively trying to kill whoever's on the plate, but he's getting there with how close that ball is getting to their face and still being called as a strike. Lastly, I'm not entirely sure, but he just gives off the vibe that every action is coordinated specifically to mess with you. (Also, personally, pitchers are terrifying.)

As for the numbers, I gave Sun his number first because it's just my favorite jersey number, I guess. Has a bit of sentimentality to me, and I thought it would be nice for him to have it since he's not in an attention-grabbing position like Moon is. Moon, on the other hand, has a lower number (but not too far from Sun's) because of his role as the pitcher, because he's naturally less replaceable on the field. I also just wanted to include a zero on his jersey number, lmao. (Bonus: I was tempted to give him 32, but that seemed like too high of a jersey number.)

For the rest of the team, I'm not entirely sure, but these are the ideas I've had!

Monty - Back-Catcher (He's just built for it, also I think he'd have way too much fun stopping runners from getting home.)

Roxy - First Base! (I don't know why, but I like this one. She'd probably enjoy the attention from stopping runners in their tracks. Plus, she'd coordinate well with Monty. Been thinking about this for a solid minute.)

Chica - Outfield (?) or Shortstop (She just feels like a right outfielder, y’know? Plus there’s the bonus of lots of audience interaction in the stadium, hehe. At the same time, she feels like one of the more mobile Glamrocks, so she’d probably be able to get around a fair amount.)

Team Captain Freddy - Third Base (I’d like to make him short stop, but he just isn’t mobile enough for that, y’know? Sun could very well be short stop as well, now that I’m thinking about it. Third base does feel like a very social position, and he’s able to communicate well with Monty despite the latter being a pain in the rear, so it’s a good position for him!)

DJMM - Outfielder! (I’m more sure about him than Chica for this role, and he feels like a left outfield type of guy. He’s a big boy! No ball is getting past him. Though he’s not his canonical size in this au, of course. Some modifications are needed.)

For the rest of the positions, they’d likely be filled by modified staff bots (OR OCS!!), or maybe some of the retired animatronics? Bonnie or Foxy perhaps? Bonnie feels like a center-fielder, honestly.

I’ve joked around about opposing teams with a few other creators, but I’m genuinely not sure who they’d play against! It wouldn’t be fair to pit them against other humans, (Unless, like, it’s an all-star team lmao) but I don’t feel like any of the older animatronics would be fit to play. (Maybe FNAF 2 animatronics? They fit the type-) If you guys want to mess around, you could always make teams to go against them, hehe. I’d love to see what you guys could do with your own characters or concepts.

William has some influence here!!! Did you hear about their pitcher getting injured? What a poor thing. Oh, but I also heard he hurt someone, and that’s why he got taken out! Really? I thought he fell ill. If robots can even fall ill. Teehee. Have some doodles!

Thanks for the ask! I was so excited to ramble about this

[hellion-writes]

Surprise Conversations

Pairing: 10th Doctor x reader (intended as platonic)

Pronouns used: They/them (gender neutral reader)

Summary: When life isn’t great for you, a strange man talks to you when you’re at your lowest. 

Word count: 2,345 (edited)

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, mentions of self harm, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, self deprecation

(A/N): Wrote this as a sort of vent/comfort within the span of 3ish hours and it’s currently 6:30 in the morning. This takes place sometime between Martha and Donna. Enjoy and ignore the awful title and writing pls

    ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was always behind you, looming over your shoulder and breathing down your neck with saccharine addled air. You breathed in that oxygen against your will; sometimes that was the only way you could get through the day. Other times, it was the thing that ruined your perfect day. 

It whispered in your ear whenever you made a mistake, no matter how small. It only started yelling whenever you started to decline, escalating to screaming when you were at your worst. You could swear that your eardrums were tattered beyond belief and that you could hear the remnants of the voice in the back of your mind whenever it wasn’t there, but you just chalked it up to the pains of growing up and becoming an adult. 

You listened to it sometimes. You listened to it when it told you that you were a failure for getting anything besides a perfect score on a test. You listened to it when it told you that you were incapable of love when you and your childhood best friend started to drift apart. You listened to it when it told you that slashing at your skin with the razor blade you had unscrewed from a handheld pencil sharpener would solve your problems. And for the most part, you felt as if it was best that you listened to it. 

There were times that you ignored it, though; this was usually whenever it’s ideas were too drastic for the situation. It called for you to jump when you came across ledges and bridges. It beckoned you towards the knife block and commanded you to stick them all in your abdomen. It wants you to jump onto the rails whenever you are boarding a train. 

Ignoring it was hard, but doable when you didn’t have anything to stress out about. A couple of cuts and you’d be good to go for the day. It would be silent. 

That was until things started to pile up. Bill due dates were getting closer and closer, friends were increasingly leaving, your debts were growing larger and larger, and your family was basically nonexistent in helping you with your problems. So you decided to finally give in and listen to everything the voice told you to do. 

You found yourself at your favorite part of the city you lived in: the bridge overlooking the ocean. It had a perfect view of the moon and it’s beams glistening on the ever moving waves. It gave you some comfort that things would continue after you would be at your end. It was beautiful and you’d be damned if you didn’t at least have something to see before you died. 

You were sitting on the ledge, feeling the salty sea breeze raise the goosebumps on your skin. Your grip on the metal bars was tight, almost as steely as the beam itself. Your feet dangled over the abyss limply. 

“Hey.” A voice broke through the quiet, making you jump out of your skin and almost lose your grip on the bars. “Sorry,” they awkwardly coughed. A figure came to a seated position next to you, dragging your eyes off from the waves below. 

The first thing you registered about him was the gravity-defying hair slightly being shifted by the breeze. In the back of your mind, you wondered how much gel he had to use to get it to stick up like that. The second thing you noticed was the way he looked at you. His eyes were expressive, probably more so than the average person. They were a deep brown color, the pupil almost blending in with his iris. 

“So, I assume you aren’t out here for a little stroll?” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes and gave you a sliver of a smile. You shook your head and returned to looking over at the ocean. He sat with you in silence for a moment before he spoke up, “what’s your name?” 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“I like meeting new people,” he shrugged. “If it makes it easier, I’ll tell you mine: I’m the Doctor.” 

“Doctor who?” You asked skeptically.

“Just the Doctor,” he grinned widely. 

“Well Doctor, it’s strange that you’re making small talk with someone sitting on the ledge.” 

“Like I said, I like meeting new people… Nice day outside, isn’t it? Or should I say night?”

“Yeah,” you hummed quietly. Silence enveloped you both once more, only the sounds of each other’s breathing and the occasional shuffle being heard whenever one of you moved. It was starting to unnerve you, so you decided that telling him your name wasn’t going to do any harm. “(Y/n).”

“What?” He asked quietly.

“(Y/n). That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” you sighed out the last phrase. Normally, you would’ve said it with a large grin and happiness exuding from your every feature but you just felt numb. 

“(Y/n),” he said slowly, as if getting a feel for your name, “that’s a lovely name. It suits you, you know. Nice to meet you,” he stuck a hand out towards you and gave you a smile that almost melted the numbness that froze you. You stared at it for a moment before slowly moving to grasp his hand in yours and give it a firm little shake.

“Likewise,” you mumbled. He jumped slightly when your cold skin met his warm hand, looking at you in alarm. 

“You’re freezing,” he said before shrugging off his trench coat and laying it across your shoulders. An instant warmth enveloped you, making you unconsciously lean into the warmth. He was warm, incredibly warm. When your nose brushed against the collar, you caught a slight whiff of cologne and… something that you couldn’t place your finger on. Maybe apples or grass? Or a mixture of the two, you didn’t ponder on it. The Doctor was warm and he smelled good. 

“Well being cold is the least of my worries right now, Doc,” a small chuckle left you. You gestured at the water below you wordlessly. It was then that you noticed his slightly beaten up off white converse shoes. “Nice shoes by the way. Not my definition of dress shoes, but at least you aren’t running around barefoot. I respect it.” 

“Thanks,” he grinned, wiggling his feet in the air slightly, “they’re my lucky pair, haven’t failed me yet.”

“You know, you could use a magic eraser or something to get those dirt stains off from them.”

“Why would I do that? These stains are memories,” he pointed to a slightly purple spot. “This is when R- an old friend accidentally ran into trouble with some nasty things.” He pointed to a small grass stain, “this is when I was running with Martha.” 

He had a fond smile on his face as he started to tell you stories about his adventures with his friends. There was Martha, the brilliant doctor (also a doctor, interesting) that almost matched his intelligence. Then there was Sarah Jane, a gifted journalist with a knack for discovering and defending the truth. K-9. Romanas I and II. Peri. Grace. Susan. Kamelion. It was as if this man had lived several lifetimes. 

“It sounds like someone’s lived quite the life,” you mused when the conversation fizzled out. 

“I have,” he nodded, an almost hidden wistfulness in his tone. “Now what about you? I feel like I’ve been hogging the conversation.”

“No, you’re fine; I liked hearing about your friends. As for me, well my life’s just not important.”

“Not important,” he scoffed. “Impossible. I’ve never met anybody who’s life wasn’t important. Everybody has a story, what’s yours?” 

You were silent for a moment before you took a deep breath. What’s one more hour of conversation? It wasn’t like you had any time constraints. You diverged into sharing some aspects of your life, just the small things that wouldn’t normally make any normal person bat an eye at. 

But the Doctor wasn’t a normal person.

You didn’t mean that in a negative way, no far from it. He actually was invested in what you had to say, not just politely nodding along. He asked you questions about what you were talking about, subtly pushing you to elaborate further. Soon enough you both were laughing like you were old friends catching up with each other. If anybody drove past you both, they probably would have thought you both were insane. 

“You actually did that?” He asked incredulously through his snickering. 

“Yes, I was a gullible kid. Not my fault that I’d do anything for a quarter and a cool looking rock,” you smiled and leaned your head against the metal bar behind you. “Everyone thought I was going to become a geologist when I got older with how much I’d hoard rocks in my room like there was no tomorrow. Made Mum cross with me for bringing dirty things into the house, but she never found the stash I had in the basement. I actually think that they’re still there, hidden in a box collecting dust.” You sighed and tightened your grip on the bars, “there’s no appeal in rocks when you grow up and see that the little sparkles and colors in them are just… imperfections that should be ignored.” 

“The little imperfections I see in rocks,” he began, pinching a small bit of loose concrete between his pointer finger and thumb and brought it up to his face to examine it. “Are the things I refuse to ignore. They’re charming and separate it from being just a hunk of slate you find in a rock garden.”

“I feel like that’s some sort of analogy.” 

“That… wasn’t what I was intending, but I do suppose that it could be one.” He turned to squint at you, placing the rock back onto the ledge next to his thigh. You squinted back at him, wondering what was going through his head. A smile ghosted across his face before he laughed to himself. 

“What?” You asked him.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, “it’s just that we’ve talked all night.” He jutted his chin towards the sun rising over the horizon casting oranges and pinks onto the water in place of the moonlight that resided there previously. 

“We have,” you said in surprise. The sun’s rays warmed you slightly, but you didn’t want to move away from the shelter of the trench coat. It gave you a strange sense of comfort. You both watched the sun rise out of the ocean and take its place high in the sky. Traffic started to bustle as people started their morning commute to work, some craning their necks in their cars as they drove by to look at you and the Doctor. None stopped to talk to you. 

“Say, (N/n),” he started.

“(N/n)?” You asked as the corners of your lips quirked upwards. The nickname made you feel warm inside, it felt nice. 

“Yes, (N/n); I think it suits you well. Anyways (N/n), if you were to choose a time and place in all of time and space, where would you like to visit the most?” 

“Anywhere? Like, even on a planet trillions of light years from Earth?” You asked him, watching him nod curtly. “Yes, but there are some rules. You can’t interact with your past self or change a point that was destined to happen. Wars, deaths, births, things like that.”

“Ah, so the general movie rules of time travel?” He grumbled to himself (something along the lines of ‘those are wildly inaccurate’) before he nodded once more. 

After a bit of contemplation, you supplied him with your answer. A spark in his eye appeared, similar to the spark he got when he talked about his friends but slightly different. He slowly got up and stretched his lanky limbs out, cracks coming from the joints and small groans leaving him whenever the stretch was apparently good. 

He looked down at you and, with a grin, extended his hand to you. “(Y/n), would you like to come with me? See that place you wanted to see?” 

You found yourself staring at his hand for the second time that night. Thoughts of stranger danger circulated through your mind before you realized that if he wanted to harm you in any way, he would have done it by now. He wouldn’t have talked to you for hours on end, making you feel like you had a small sliver of yourself back again. 

Why not? One little detour couldn’t hurt; you had a good feeling about going along with him. 

You grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you up to a standing position. He gave you a small lift so that you could hop over the barrier before he catapulted his body over it. With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he led you away from the bridge. You both got strange looks from the people driving past, but you managed to ignore it when you burrowed yourself deeper into the trench coat and he brought you closer to him. He led you to an old navy blue police box, much to your confusion. 

“Well, Mx…”

“(L/n),” you supplied.

“Well, Mx. (L/n), welcome to the TARDIS.” 

One trip turned to two. Then three. Then four. Then several more. It became normal to come home from work to see the man waiting for you comfortably in your small apartment, brightening up whenever you walked through the door and asking you excitedly about what you had in mind for your next adventure. 

Soon enough, the voice became something that would only come to you on your bad days, becoming largely dormant in your mind. Whenever you had a bad day, you finally had someone to confide in. Someone that wouldn’t judge you, someone that wouldn’t tell you that you were being overly dramatic. 

The Doctor was different from the normal person; he was the Doctor and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

[sprinklesandshatters]

A Review on NCT 127′s 3rd Album <Sticker>

So NCT 127 just came back with their 3rd Full Album <Sticker> and this is my first 127 comeback since I became a fan last year! Neozone is such a special album for me as it was their first album that I explored entirely. I've known NCT as the group who never fails any expectations so I've kept mine up although I know they'll exceed it anyway. And guess what, they did! I absolutely love their new album hence this review~

This isn't a technical music review—as I am not a musician myself—but rather a listener's honest takes, goofy notes, and interpretation on each of the tracks in the album. I admit I've also struggled to build my own opinions on some of the tracks until I listened to them over and over again.

I have also heard there are mixed opinions on the title track <Sticker> and a lot says it's another acquired taste. But I think it's not just that, as it can be a grower, just like how most of NCT's songs were for me. Maybe after a few listens and a right passage of time, it will grow on those people. The bottom line here is, I like it a lot! 😛

So I listed down the songs according to their respective track numbers and followed each with a bulleted list of my opinions and interpretations.

(Viewer/reader discretion: before you continue, minors, do not interact as there are few 18+ contents under the cut. Thank you.)

1. Sticker

THEY DIDN'T JUST PUNCH A NEW NOTCH ON THE BELT LIKE THAT

THIS SONG SLAPS, LITERALLY SLAPS… AND WHIPS 

The recorder at the intro boyyyy I thought something was wrong but then I remember it’s NCT lmao

It already stuck in my head from my first listen from the Instagram audio.

With Taeyong opening the verse with his divine rapping, I knew I'm in for a new ride.

STICK-UH STICK-UGH STICK-UGHGHGH

To those complaining it sounding like noise music, imagine it sounding generic. I don't think it would fit as the title track. Not a b-track or in their repertoire, even. They are called NCT because they define the NEO in the music culture and music technology!

It honestly was an unorthodox, just like all of their title tracks, which I’m inherently here for.

Literally, no one does it like them!

The growls and the vocal flexes and adlibs! (You can tell it has Yoo Youngjin's brand.)

The crisp metronome sound that’s consistently ticking except for the pre-chorus and the dance break adds depth to the soundscape. I love how it’s used instead of the usual snaps.

The production quality blew my mind. Like how can someone think those melodies would sound so exquisite? CAN I CALL THEM GENIUS?

The piano at the back, oh my God—Yes! It adds this mystifying element to the song.

I'm not sure if it's a midi violin at the pre-chorus, but it added thrill to the song. It was a great transition from the bass line in the verses to the combination of the flawless harmony with the same instrumental.

"You treat me like a boy, like a grown-up child chasing a dream" JUNGWOO BABY NO MORE HUH

Taeil, Doyoung, and Haechan—the bridge vocal trinity!

But why the heck are they cowboys? I dig the concept, but why? LMAO

BTW GUNSLINGER MARK I’M ON MY KNEES YEEHAW

This is easily one of my favorite tracks from NCT 127's entire discography 💚

2. Lemonade

(⌐■_■)

Jaehyun starting off this song with his deep voice eee

The song opens to a verse oozing with chill confidence. They're like, yeah you're lurking because we’re cool.

This is such a huge slap to their haters. NCT's not chillin' like a villain, nah they're the main characters!

Well maybe they’re villains, but still ya not cooler than them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny enough how they could have just referred haters as simply lemons whose sour/bitter to the taste, but 127 squad's success is sweeter than all the haters' spiteful remarks so yeah, SIPPY SIPPY LEMONADE 🧃

"WOOF"

I might have just barked too wOW

Yuta’s vocals hooooO his voice just sounds so glamorous mhmm

Also Mark referencing their previous title tracks such as: Firetruck, Cherry Bomb, and Regular (it's Irregular in the lyrics) in his rap part 👌💅

I just love Mark's energy when he raps. HE RESOLUTELY BITES AND STRAIGHT UP EATS EVERY TIME HE DOES.

3. Breakfast

Now breakfast time, oh jeez!

AAAHAHFU—

Summer 127's bestie!

If Summer 127 talks about dancing all night long, Breakfast is the morning after.

You know what it is.

"Even if I gulp and drink you, it's not enough for me." oho Taeyong no you ha—STOP

Sexual innuendos aside, isn't it just sweet if someone tells you they'd want to have breakfast with you every day?  Okay maybe I'm melting at the thought 😩🙈💞

And I can see myself dancing to this song as I make breakfast (in the afternoon or at midnight bc I’m crazy)

This was an okay b-track for me at the first skim on the album, but boy it grew on me wildly.

Honestly one of my favorite tracks in this album.

4. Focus

Did I just invade a private call? LMAO

The analog voice filters make it like so.

Dude, this feels intimate in the level of eavesdropping a phone call between seasoned lovers. Then you realize you hear them whispering their kinks over the line and you're ooh, that's sexy! hfgklhfhf

My first listen to this, I almost went feral because,

"I can't wait to eat you…" when it's actually "I can't wait 'til we chill…" aahaha

"Baby call me when you want me." OKAY!

This sounds relaxing and chill. I'd love to play this on a late night drive or just before bed time along with Fly Away With Me, Sun & Moon, My Youth, and Long Flight.

Belongs to ‘make out session’ playlist  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

That was lowkey a playlist recommendation, huh?

I'd be kidding if I don't say I could touch myself while listening to this song AHAHAFGHFJFJ

I didn't know this would grow on me this much lol I love love LOVE THIS!

5. The Rainy Night

Ooh, the holy melancholy!

Piano at the intro—I knew I'd cry to this.

This song isn't just about break-up, but the heartbreak after one.

The yearning; the remnant pieces from the shattering of what was once there.

I think I crumbled from this one.

This hit so hard I felt like I fit in the shoes with the lyrics throughout the entire song.

What’s fascinating is I clearly forgot the title when I mentally said this sounds like a sad rainy day song from the first listen.

Something I’d turn up when it suddenly rains, just because I want to feel the blues.

Taeil and Haechan singing in lower register? I wanna cry :( they’re just one of the best vocalists in K-music industry right now.

Could have been also nice if they added Yuta to the vocals.

"My selfish heart who waits for you to come back," OKAY WHO HURT THEM?

And the fact that they sang it so good that it translated every ounce of the emotions well even before I looked up for English translations is the reason why I love this song too.

6. Far

Hmm… What the hell?! Do I like this? Wait...

Alright!

The jumpy vibe from the first verse to the pre-chorus set the mood for this song. It sounds merry and heavy. It was honestly too much to take until I’ve reached the chorus part.

Honestly, I think this song could fit NCT Dream better, as it gives off a vibe similar to Hello Future's b-tracks. If some credible source say this could have made HF’s track list, I might believe you too fast.

Also Dream’s Deja Vu where they go na nananananana na na na~

Playful yet confident! That’s what I mean!

As usual, the vocals are insane! Vocal flex from left to right!

I swear Jungwoo sounded a bit like Taemin at the second verse that I had to replay it hahaha

I love hearing Johnny as a vocalist! SM, how many signs do you need until you utilize his vocal talent???

Taeil's part where he sings, "go nuts, go nuts, 'til we go bust, go bust" IDEK BUT I SNORTED A LAUGH AT FIRST LISTEN HFCAHKFHK

Not my favorite, but still great though!

But wait it’s actually stuck in my head???

7. Bring The Noize

Yes, they never beat those noise music allegations

HERE'S SOME NOIZE, BITCHES

I love me some noisy percussions. AND THE BASS YO

This screams so much confidence!

The build up from the pre-chorus to the chorus—FIRE!

This song reminds me a lot of SuperM's Super Car, especially with the engine roar samples and the battle cry-like singing at the chorus.

JAEHYUN RAPPING? You mean Jaehyun the visual, the vocalist, the actor, the model, the funny dude, aka my everything?! (markie bb look pls look away for a moment)

THEY DELIVERED IT STRAIGHT FROM NEOCITY THAT'S SOME NCT MUSIC RIGHT THERE NO ONE DOES IT LIKE THEM

When I said I'd play Focus on a late night drive, and if I add this in the playlist, VROOM VROOM SPEED LIMIT WHAT

OUTTA MY WAY

“We got no shame” ouh TAEYONG’S FLOW IS JUST VERY HIM AND HE’S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN

You know what's so clever about this song? It's how it ended with Mark's final rap without any instrumental, leaving you  standing there with a doppler effect-like post experience.

A super car on a super speed just whooshed past you and you look its way as it zips through the road. It's gone in an instant but you're floored dumbfounded at a sidewalk. That's how I describe this song.

8. Magic Carpet Ride

This song… Wow. Oh gosh it's so beautiful.

Their harmony in the chorus—it makes me want to kiss someone so passionately that I'd cry.

This makes me want to feel love that transcends the universe. Literally, just please take me on a magic carpet ride :(

The background harmonies too oh my goodness—HEAVENLY.

Jaehyun's voice is so warm and soulful it fits perfectly with songs of this genre.

Okay alright Doyoung Grande!

And Taeil makes me feel like I'm listening to old school R&B.

The first time I heard this from the track video, I can't stop replaying because it's just that great.

This makes me want to love. I think that sums it up.

9. Road Trip

This is such a soothing song for me, especially how I easily become nostalgic thinking about the road trips I've had.

Whenever I listen to this, my brain immediately conjures up thoughts of my ideal getaways. Gazing at the sky through the car window, stirring up from a nap in the middle of the ride, and   eventually reaching your destination.

Oh, to travel around anywhere... (curse you covid-19)

Okay that's it. I'M PACKING UP.

But where do I go—

I could also imagine Mark playing this on the guitar and the other members sing along together, something like that.

Just Wholesome™ vibes.

I love how it evokes such a nice emotion within me effortlessly.

This isn't my favorite, but I still love this.

10. Dreamer

Eyyyy such a refreshing song!

This song is so bright it makes me want to dance. I play this first in the shower!

It reminds me so much of Elevator (from Neozone)

The horns make it more lively I think!

Yuta and Jungwoo's voice suits lively songs like this.

The background vocal in low register in Taeyong's part in the first verse is so good ahhfhf

Taeil, the R&B vocal king you are...

There's this part where Doyoung and Johnny harmonized, that at first listen they seemed to clash, but it sounded actually fine after a few listens. Maybe it's just that I've never heard them do it before.

And I think it's Doyoung's laugh at the end of the bridge? Oh my goodness I really love this too!

11. Promise You

MY FIRST LOVE AND MOST FAVORITE SONG IN THE ALBUM!!!

The first time I heard this from their NCIT Sharehouse Sitcom, I fell in love with the song already.

It sounds like something you'd feel from a warm, welcoming hug.

The lyrics are so beautiful and endearing. It's definitely a be-there-for-you type of song that will touch your heart.

It definitely sounds like a promise.

A song about platonic intimacy.

This really fits to be the closing song of the album. It's like the end of it but holds a promise that says “see you soon.”

Because they cherish their fans like that.

It's also like I've watched a movie with a happy ending, where the camera pans up to the clear sky and this song starts playing.

Speaking of ending, I would love to hear them sing this as an encore stage in their concert. You know, that moment just before the stage lights die down at the end of the concert where they send final blows of flying kisses to NCTzens. Then you come home smiling and crying.

This wasn't supposed to be this long since I originally planned to write this with just simple phrases and emojis but I got too engrossed lol. I also meant to include my own ratings but I figured it’s pointless since I can’t really decide about them hahaha

I really enjoyed the whole album and I love how they're progressively defining what NEO means by breaking through standards. It's not NCT music if it doesn't make you say "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" But then you realize it’s stuck in your head and you’re enjoying it already.

✨ OVERALL RATING: 127/10 💚

if you’ve reached until here, thank you for letting me share you a braincell or two 💞

[romantichopelessly]

Talking to the Moon

This fic is somehow my favorite thing that I’ve ever written. It started out as a Halloween fic, and then I wanted it to be my longest one shot and aimed for 8k. Now it is so much longer and so much more and I really really hope that you guys like it.

Words: 15,400+

AO3

Summary: Logan is a man of routine. Routines are sensible. It's perfectly sensible that his routine revolves around his roommate. Virgil. Even though his roommate doesn't know that he's a vampire. Even though his roommate doesn't know that he is in love with him. (Or: Virgil and Logan are vampires. And neither of them know about the other. And they were roommates.)

Pairings: Analogical, Background Roceit and Intruality

Warnings: Blood, blood drinking mentions, kidnapping, non-graphic violence 

----

Bright fall leaves littered the cracked sidewalk as Logan made his way home from work. The satisfying crunch of them underneath his loafers was something that he would never admit to enjoying as much as he did. Past the buildings lining the city street, a soft orange hue was beginning to light up the dark sky, encapsulating what most would see as the perfect morning.

Logan glanced down at his watch. 6:53 A.M. He picked up his pace. The stop at the early morning coffee shop had been on an ill-advised whim, and though the warmth that the cup of earl gray tea radiated into the chilled skin of his palm was welcome, Logan did not want to end up regretting the indulgence by arriving at his apartment after sunrise.

An early morning breeze stirred Logan’s scarf and nipped at his nose with a bite that would cause most to shudder and hunch back into their coat. Logan, however, maintained perfect posture, completely unaffected by the temperature as he rounded the corner of the block with purpose, the door to the apartment complex that he lived in now in sight.

Long fingers fished in his pocket for a moment before hooking through his keyring. The black fuzzy keychain that his roommate had gifted him weeks ago brushed against his palm as he climbed the concrete steps and pushed open the door with force, anticipating the way that it stuck, just as it had every morning for the past year and a half.

Logan stepped inside, an unvocalized sigh of relief smothered in his chest. Behind him, the door fell shut, locking out the cold breeze and rising sun.

Logan picked his way across the lobby, keys still in hand. He paused for a moment at the mailboxes, glancing over boxes 221A and 221B. Nothing new. He hummed softly to himself and continued up to his apartment.

His keys turned with a satisfying click in the lock and Logan finally let himself breathe, a habit of relief more than a need.

A deep inhale. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

Was that tomato soup that he smelled?

Thirst burned at the back of Logan’s throat. He swallowed it down as he toed off his shoes and deposited his keys in the bowl by the front door, the jingle alerting anyone listening to his whereabouts.

“L?”

Which, of course, was exactly what Logan wanted. A completely artificial warmth bloomed in Logan’s chest.

“Virgil.” Logan called back, an inexplicable smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Padding down the hallway, Logan rounded the corner to the community room to see his roommate curled up on the far corner of the couch--a position that Logan had found Virgil in more times than he could possibly count.

Though he supposed that he would have had to count them had he been asked.

“Hey.” Virgil’s voice was as gruff as it always was. His legs were curled beneath him, cushioning his laptop on his lap, and his hands were curled around a mug of something deep red. Likely the soup that Logan had smelled when he entered. It reminded Logan of the cup of tea that he was still holding. He turned and headed for the connected kitchen for his add-ins before he could drink it. “How was work?” Virgil called after him.

“Satisfactory.” Logan replied, depositing the paper cup containing his earl gray on the counter before opening the fridge. “There were not many visitors at the planetarium tonight. Just the couples.” Logan wrapped his fingers around the jam jar that he was searching for. He pulled the top off of the to-go cup with one hand and rooted around in a drawer for a spoon with the other. He shoveled two or three (most definitely three) spoonfuls of the red gelled substance into his tea and stirred it quickly before closing the cup and jar both, putting the jar back in their shared refrigerator and finally turning to fully face his roommate.

“That’s good.” Virgil watched him with pensive eyes, eyes that made Logan’s mind do funny things, like imagine that Virgil’s look was a bit more fond than it really was. Logan crossed the room again and sat on the middle cushion of the couch, taking a slow sip of his tea. Virgil immediately stretched out his legs and nestled them underneath Logan’s thighs.

“What about you? How was your day?” Logan asked, politely.

Virgil shrugged with a single shoulder. “Same old, same old. Do a bit of work, read a ton of emails, get bored and listen to music and stare at the ceiling on the company dime.”

“You are self employed, Virgil.” Logan felt the need to point out.

Virgil shrugged again, this time with a coy smile on his face. “What can I say? I’m a tough boss. Sometimes you just have to stick it to the man. And by the man, I mean me. And by you, I also mean me.”

Logan watched, emotions that he could not name despite all of his years welling in his chest as Virgil leaned forward and took a long sip from his mug of soup. To suppress the sudden insatiable urge to say something stupid like ‘you look like a dream, sitting on this musty old couch with tomato soup on your upper lip’, Logan took a long sip of his own drink, hiding his wry smile at Virgil’s antics.

Despite the emotions rolling and bubbling within Logan, the silence that followed was not uncomfortable. Rather, the quiet felt full in a way. Virgil’s feet wiggled underneath Logan’s thigh, searching for a warmth that Logan wished he could provide more of. Virgil let out a quiet sigh as he leaned back against the corner of the couch that he was nestled into. Logan let the coppery twinged tea in his throat warm him for a moment, as the stresses of the day rolled off of his shoulders and evaporated, as they were wont to do when Virgil was around.

“Want to watch some Cosmos?”

Logan perked up, a slight smile on his lips. Not so wide that he would show his fangs, which had, of course, descended due to his thirst, but a small quirk of the lips that never could be pulled back in Virgil’s presence. “I’d love nothing more.”

----

P&J’s Coffee Shop was never truly busy. It was a nice coffee shop, to be sure. Virgil’s favorite, in fact. Where else in the world could he get a perfectly brewed O negative espresso?

Of course, the secret menu being absolutely sublime had nothing to do with the reception of the café, as most of the daytime customers would be appalled by the contents of the midnight drinks. Which was quite a shame for the general public, but the lack of popularity was quite the plus in Virgil’s book, especially on nights like this, when he came to the café specifically to whine to his two best friends.

“Patton isn’t going to let me give you another espresso if you finish that one too soon. I’m already on their list for allowing you four shots in the first place.” Janus was leaning against the back counter, decidedly not restocking the refrigerator like Patton had asked him to.

Virgil grumbled in response, taking another long swig of his drink out of spite.

Janus rolled his two-toned eyes. “You’re a piece of work, Noir.”

On the very rare occasions that Virgil left his apartment, P&J’s was usually his destination. The small, soft gothic inspired coffee shop fit his aesthetic perfectly. P&J’s was one of the few creature-of-the-night-friendly spots in the city that wasn’t completely overrun. This lesser-known energy was exactly what kept it from being a target of hunters as well, which was quite the blessing, even though there were less and less incidences of slayings being reported as time went on.

And while Virgil was glad to be living in such a progressive time, he still was not about to put a target on his back by heading out to the more popular vampire and werewolf bars, clubs, restaurants and coffee shops around town.

“Shut up, Janus. I’m your best customer and you know it.” Virgil paused, thinking. A sly grin formed on his face. “Except for that fae you’re always talking about, of course. But I know that you’re biased towards him.”

Were Janus a vampire, Virgil was positive that he would have hissed at that moment. As it was, Virgil could tell that Janus was just suppressing a growl. “Untrue. Shut up and drink your coffee, I no longer wish to speak with you.” Janus sniffed, turning his nose up at Virgil’s words. Despite the dramatics of the gesture, Janus somehow managed to look poised. He always did.

In Virgil’s--albeit limited--experience, it was very difficult for a werewolf to look so poised all of the time. However, Janus constantly defied those expectations. Even the three long scars that crossed the otherwise blemishless medium brown skin on the left side of his face and his left, caramel colored eye didn’t stop Janus from looking aloof at all times. Even on days like this, working in the café, with his long, dark and curly hair twisted into a loose knot at the base of his neck and a pastel yellow work apron on, Janus could make anything look as sophisticated as if he were about to attend a grand ball, and honestly, Virgil was a bit jealous.

Logan would probably be into Virgil if he took his appearance more seriously.

Janus was watching Virgil with a knowing look now, and the vampire scowled back.

“You know, Virgil.” Virgil hissed, pulling his cup closer to his chest defensively. He knew that tone. “I wouldn’t really be throwing around accusations like that. Glass houses, and all.”

Virgil’s shoulders rose up to his ears. An onlooker would say that he looked remarkably similar to an angry black cat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh you don’t? Must be hard being so old-”

“I’m 38.”

“Let me jog your memory.”

“Physically I’m only 24.”

“Cobwebs in your head aside,” Janus plowed on, “Logan Doyle? Your current roommate who you’ve been obnoxiously pining for for the past few months? The one that you come into my café to bemoan about at least once a week? You know, the studious, oblivious, wonderful, handsome-”

“Okay! I get it!” Virgil snapped, interrupting Janus’s infuriatingly accurate imitation of his voice. “All things unholy, why do I never come in when Pat is on the clock?”

Janus shrugged, a shit eating grin on his face that almost made Virgil want to take his drink and leave. Almost. “It likely has something to do with the fact that you only come out here during Doyle’s working hours. Suspiciously sentimental, wanting to spend every moment you can with your roommate, don’t you think?”

Virgil bristled. “Stop saying stuff like that, Janus.” He knew that the barista was joking. Hell, Janus had teased Virgil about this exact subject far too many times. He really should not be so touchy about it. It was very likely that the only reason that Janus’s ribbing was rubbing him the wrong way today was the events of the night--dawn?--previous.

Logan had looked so… fetching coming home that particular early morning. The soft wool of his sweater vest looked almost irresistibly touchable. The contented look on his face as he took slow sips from his tea. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly as he fought away laughter at Virgil’s not-actually-that-funny quips while they watched Cosmos.

“Ugh, are you reminiscing? Didn’t you see him less than an hour ago?” Virgil curled in on himself, glaring up at Janus’s feigned disgusted look. “Keep that out of my coffee shop.”

Virgil was about to retort when a light, melodic voice piped up from the front door. “Your coffee shop? Well darn! You should have told me that you were taking over, Jan! I wouldn’t have come in.”

Virgil turned on his stool to look at Patton, who was smiling widely, unabashedly showing their fangs for all the world to see. Behind him, Virgil could hear Janus’s amused snort.

Patton Darling was an older vampire than Virgil was, though by all other standards they were still rather young at 49. They looked younger than Virgil, and although their physical appearances only differed by three years, Virgil couldn’t help but feel like he paled in comparison to Patton. Patton had that ethereal beauty about them that all vampires were supposed to have, but on them it looked effortless and… simply put, right. Their smooth, deep brown skin and sapphire blue eyes glowed in an inhuman sort of way that could enchant any mortal, and most immortals that Patton happened to meet. This week, their hair was a pastel purple. The previous week it had been a sunflower yellow. It was like Patton wanted to call attention to themself, something that Virgil and most other vampires avoided.

Between them and Janus, Virgil wasn’t sure who was more mysteriously stunning. Had Logan been in the room, the sheer amount of beauty in the café probably would have knocked him unconscious.

“Hey, Pat.” Virgil couldn’t help but smile back at the older vampire.

“Hi, Virgil! How are you today?” Patton pat Virgil’s shoulder genially as they slipped past him to get behind the counter with Janus.

“He’s pining again.” Janus answered before Virgil could. “Also he snuck four shots of espresso when I wasn’t looking.”

Virgil glared at Janus with a renewed vigor as Patton gasped. “Virgil! You know that that isn’t good for you!” Janus nodded from behind Patton, a smug grin on his face.

“I don’t really digest it.” Virgil pointed out. He certainly was not pouting under Patton’s stern gaze.

“Hmph.” Patton looked dissatisfied with that answer, but they didn’t push it, thankfully. “Well, what did Logan do this time?”

Then again, maybe Virgil would rather they continued to chew him out for his coffee choices.

“He just-” Virgil sighed. If he had a beating heart or blood running through his veins, Virgil just knew that he would have been blushing by now. “You know.” He gestured helplessly.

“Existed in your presence?” Janus quipped.

“Exactly!”

Patton hummed sympathetically. Virgil knew that they could relate to hopeless crushes. For all the time that Virgil had known them, they had been in love with some man or another. “I’m sorry, kiddo.”

Virgil grumbled. “I look older than you.”

Patton paid no attention, but dropped the pet name. “You should really just tell him. Be honest about your feelings! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Janus and Virgil glanced at one another before leveling Patton with their best ‘are-you-actually-serious’ look.

“So many things.” Virgil could almost name them by heart by now. He had run them over in his mind so many times. “For one, he doesn’t even know that I’m a vampire. I’d have to drop that bombshell on him, and you know that he’d just be scared off. At least now I have him as a friend.”

Suddenly, Janus had turned his dubious stare away from Patton, and Virgil had both of his friends staring at him with matching looks of… amusement? Surprise? Sympathy? Virgil couldn’t tell, but he very much felt like Janus was not on his side in this conversation any longer.

“Are you kidding?” Janus’s voice held a note of high pitched incredulity that only confused Virgil further. Janus turned to Patton, unhidden laughter in his tone now. “Is he kidding? Does he not know-”

From the way that the werewolf winced, Virgil got the distinct impression that Patton had just stomped on his foot. Bewildered, Virgil turned to Patton. “Know what? Pat, what is he talking about?”

Janus looked like he was about to break into a laughing fit. “You-”

“Shh!” Patton nudged Janus, sending him a very severe pointed look. They turned back to Virgil, who felt extremely lost. “It’s nothing, V. He’s just being stupid.”

“Hey!”

“What Janus means to say is that you can’t be sure how he’ll react. You really should tell him, Virgil.” Their eyes were kind, but Virgil could not shake the distinct feeling that he was being made fun of.

Knowing that he would definitely not be following that advice, and that Janus was about two seconds away from laughing in his face for some reason, Virgil pushed away from the coffee bar and stood up, clutching his O negative espresso.

“Yeah, alright. Look, I’ve got to be going.” He gestured lamely over his shoulder.

“Oh! Okay, Virgil. Well, good night!” Patton waved as Virgil backed away from the bar towards the door. Janus looked like he was in a lot of pain. Probably because Patton was standing on his foot. “Sucks to see you go!”

Virgil turned and dashed out of the store. As the door to the café swung shut behind him, he could hear Janus break into a deafening cackle.

Weird.

----

The view of the night sky from the planetarium never ceased to amaze Logan.

Despite the fact that he had worked at the planetarium as a lecturer for approximately two years now, the sight from the observation deck would always be a sight to behold. Logan had spent many, many years under the same stars, and he had never once beheld anything as beautiful as them.

Well, perhaps there were one or two things that rivaled starshine from the heavens.

Like his roommate’s crooked smile. Or his alluring violet eyes, and how they lit up with a fond twinkle that Logan used to think could never be aimed at him. Virgil’s laugh also rivaled the constellations that Logan knew by heart--the way it dipped and fell, how it was low and gravely sometimes, stirring something deep in Logan’s stomach.

Even now, Logan was staring up at the sky--his one true love for over a century and a half--Logan found himself wishing that he were at home, sitting with Virgil on the couch, watching a sitcom.

Logan was startled out of his musings by the clearing of a throat.

Blinking, Logan tore his eyes away from the open sky. A man--a customer--stood before Logan. The first thing that Logan noticed were the sunglasses that the man was wearing. They were perched on top of his curly black hair, almost unnoticeable in the dark of the planetarium. Why on earth would anyone be wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night? Judging by the rest of the man’s outfit, a black leather jacket, a nondescript gray t-shirt and ripped jeans, Logan presumed that it was simply part of this man’s aesthetic.

Virgil would probably have approved. Or called him a try-hard. It was hard to predict Virgil’s opinions.

“Yes, sir?” Logan finally got around to responding, his polite customer service voice on.

The man smiled charmingly. It was quite unlike Virgil’s unsure smile, which often left Logan feeling as though he were the only one in the world who got to see it. This man looked like he handed out smiles to any and everyone.

There was something… familiar about him. It nagged on the back of Logan’s mind.

“I was wondering when the next lecture was.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of a question. Again, Logan explained it away. Many customers were entitled and downright rude to him. This certainly was not out of the norm, or even noteworthy.

Logan glanced at his watch, as if he didn’t know the planetarium’s schedule by heart. It was nearly 5:30 A.M. “I’m sorry, sir.”  Logan answered as he looked back up. The man was a bit closer than he had been before. Logan took a step back. “We are actually about to close for a couple of hours before morning tours of the museum can begin.”

That was another odd thing. Not many customers stayed around the planetarium as morning was arriving. Logan usually had the last hour or so of his shift free of customers on weekdays.

“Bummer.” The man did not sound too put out by this information. “I was really looking forward to hearing your lecture, Mr. Doyle.”

Logan felt distinctly uncomfortable now. He knew, logically, that the man could know his name for any number of reasons. It was all over the pamphlets set out around the room. It was on the badge stuck to Logan’s turtleneck. However, the way that the man said it…

“It is Doctor, but thank you.” Logan said, stiffly. “If you return another night, I’m sure that you can make it to a show.” Logan very much did not want this man to return another night.

“Do you work any day shifts?”

Logan hadn’t seen the man move, but he was closer once again. Logan took another step back, hoping that his distancing himself was not too obvious. “Sadly, no. I am here most nights, however. There are schedules on our free pamphlets.” He wished that there were not schedules on their free pamphlets.

The man was just opening his mouth to speak again when the doors to the planetarium burst open, and a young man in a pale pink sweater tumbled through.

“Came in early, Doc! Couldn’t get much sleep last night, so I thought I’d come in a few hours early and let you go! I can do the cleaning before my shift starts, and you can get home to- Oh. Hello.”

Logan held back a sigh of relief. It helped greatly that he did not need to breathe. “Hello, Dr. Picani. I was just telling this customer-”

“Nate. Nate Miller.” The man, Nate, had looked very disgruntled to be interrupted, Logan had not failed to notice. Now, however, he was smiling charmingly once again as he crossed the couple of steps between Logan and the door to shake Dr. Emile Picani’s hand.

“Nice to meet ’cha!” Emile exclaimed, sending a slightly confused look over Nate’s shoulder to Logan. Logan shook his head. No. He did not know this man. Emile, the saint that he was, stepped in gracefully, making up for his clumsiness at the door before. “Well, I can answer any questions that you have now! My friend, Logan, here is going to be going home early. You can stick around while I clean up before we close for a bit.”

Nate looked very much disgruntled with this turn of events, but Logan did not give him a chance to respond, grabbing his messenger bag as quickly as a human possibly could.

Nodding his thanks to Emile, Logan tried to maintain a neutral stature and pace as he left the planetarium, scanning out at the buzzer by the door and grabbing his keys.

He felt eyes on him all the way out.

----

When Virgil got back from P&J’s it was only 4 A.M.

Which meant that he had about three hours before Logan got back from work.

Was it odd for one to measure time by their roommate’s whereabouts? Virgil wasn’t quite sure. To be fair, he had never had a roommate that he was so attached to. Logan was… special.

Virgil shook that thought away. Logan wasn’t even home yet, and all Virgil could seem to think about was him. It was Janus and Patton’s fault. What they had said was sitting in the back of his mind and making him think all kinds of crazy things.

Like that he should possibly… maybe consider telling Logan his feelings.

Virgil bit the inside of his cheek harshly, shoving that thought as far away as he possibly could. No. Not an option. Logan was just a human who was unluckily living with a vampire. Virgil could never ruin his life like that.

Determined to distract himself, Virgil placed his phone face up on the kitchen counter and turned on some music.

Usually, around the apartment, Virgil would only listen to his music with his headphones on. Music was a very personal thing. Not to mention that blasting music that other people may not like was too much of a risk for is anxiety ridden self.

However, tonight--that morning?--Virgil needed to blast the traitorous thoughts out of his mind, and he didn’t feel like dealing with the headache that would surely come with wearing headphones on full blast. So, Virgil queued up his favorite distraction playlist of early 2000s punk songs and played it for all the empty kitchen to hear.

For the next hour or so, Virgil bobbed his head along to bands that reminded him of when he was still alive and worked on his computer. Being a web developer and consultant had its perks, the greatest among them being the lack of strict hours and the absence of human interaction.

Just after half past five, Virgil was bored. Not that his job was particularly thrilling most nights, but what Janus had said earlier was still bothering him.

What had the werewolf been insinuating? He had acted like he knew something that Virgil didn’t. And Patton hadn��t exactly proved Virgil’s suspicions wrong. In fact, they had seemed just as amused by whatever secret Janus was keeping from Virgil.

It was infuriating. His two best friends, and he couldn’t for the undead life of him figure out their angle.

Why did they want Virgil to out himself as a vampire to Logan? If it were just Patton, Virgil would simply assume that they wanted him to be happy, but Janus… Janus knew a bit more about what could happen if their secrets were outed. And yet he had still acted like Virgil keeping his blood drinking habits a secret from Logan was some sort of joke.

Virgil groaned, burying his head in his hands and pushing his computer aside.

Looked like he was going to get that headache whether he liked it or not.

Just as he was lamenting his choices in friends, the song changed and Virgil reached for his phone without thinking. With only a few taps on the screen, Virgil closed out of his current playlist and pulled up one that he had clocked many an hour listening to in the early hours of dawn, shut up in his room, curled up on his bed and hugging a pillow.

It was simply titled “Logan” with a blue heart emoji.

He never had been very creative.

Before he could think about the ramifications of his decision, Virgil had pressed the shuffle button and set his phone back down.

“Now that she’s back in the atmosphere

With drops of Jupiter in her hair

She acts like summer and walks like rain

Reminds me that there’s a time to change”

Virgil closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. It was silly. It was really, really, really silly, and Virgil knew for a fact that if Janus were here to see what Virgil was doing, Virgil would probably die for the second time.

That knowledge didn’t stop him from getting up and sliding slowly around his own dark kitchen in his socks, though.

For a good couple of songs, Virgil danced alone in the kitchen. Not really danced, just sort of swayed in place and slid around, but that didn’t matter. All the while, he thought of Logan. His roommate who wore hideously outdated, probably thrifted, sweater vests like they were the height of fashion. His roommate who watched bad documentaries with him and ate terribly sugary jelly right from the jar in the fridge. His roommate who still used that ugly black fluffy keychain that Virgil had given him as a joke weeks ago.

Maybe he should tell Logan. About his feelings or about his nature, he wasn’t quite sure. He hadn’t decided when a pair of smooth, comfortably chilled hands slipped into his and a soft voice spoke.

“Can’t say I’ve ever come home to this before.”

Virgil’s eyes flew open. He had been so deep in his own mind that he hadn’t even heard the door unlock. For the tiniest of moments, he tensed, all too aware of the type of music that was currently pouring from his phone, but he quickly relaxed.

Logan tended to have that effect on him.

Maybe he should have been more wary of that. He wasn’t.

“You’re home early.” He responded, trying to hide his burning embarrassment. It was quickly overshadowed by the sudden, all too visceral knowledge that Logan had placed one of his hands on Virgil’s waist and was now leading the two of them in a real dance.

In the middle of their dark kitchen, illuminated only by the light of the refrigerator clock and the glow from Virgil’s abandoned laptop, while the jazzy notes of Fly Me to the Moon played in the background.

He could die again happy.

Logan was nodding. “Yes. My coworker, Emile, showed up early and let me take the hour off. Something about being unable to sleep. I probably should have been more worried for him.”

Virgil couldn’t stop his lips from quirking up in a small smile. He didn’t even try to. “Lucky me. And- I mean, lucky you, of course. An hour off. That must be nice.”

Logan hummed. “It’s turning out to be, yes.”

The two of them turned slowly as the song faded out. Logan didn’t let go, so Virgil didn’t either. Feeling uncharacteristically brave, or perhaps just a bit too comfortable, Virgil leaned forward and rested his head on Logan’s shoulder.

His turtleneck was soft against Virgil’s cheek.

“I know you're somewhere out there

Somewhere far away

I want you back, I want you back

My neighbors think I'm crazy

But they don't understand

You're all I have, you're all I have

At night, when the stars light up my room

I sit by myself

Talking to the moon

Trying to get to you

In hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too

Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon?”

They were silent as the music played. They swayed slowly. Logan led them in circles effortlessly. Distantly, Virgil wondered whether Logan had some professional training on his front. At one point, during the chorus of their second song, Logan pushed Virgil back slightly. Just as he was about to apologize for taking liberties and invading Logan’s space, though, Logan lifted their joined hands.

Virgil spun underneath, an incredulous laugh floating easily from his chest.

His fangs flashed in the laptop’s glow just as he was facing away from his roommate.

Logan caught Virgil back in his arms easily, pulling him back to their original position and rubbing his thumb along Virgil’s waist in a way that gave him goosebumps.

It dawned on Virgil as the sun dawned on the city streets.

He was desperately, irrevocably in love with Logan Doyle.

----

“I’m in love with him.”

Remus choked on his thai food, noodles still half out of his mouth. “What the fuck?”

“I am in love with him.” Logan repeated. “What did you think that I said?”

Remus spat out his noodles in a frankly disgusting display that Logan was sadly used to. “No! I heard you, I’m just flabbergasted!”

“Nice word.” Logan commented.

“You’re in- I can’t even say it! You sound like Roman! I knew that you had the hots for Virgey, but in love-” Remus fake retched.

Logan bristled, but before he could make a sarcastic remark about how much less disgusting his feelings were than Remus’s… everything, Roman stepped out from the back room.

“You know that I can hear you, right?”

Roman rounded the counter, his knee length skirt swaying against his legs. Roman and Remus were starkly different. Where Roman wore flowy, soft and stylish clothing, Remus was all hard lines and punk outfits. However, both had plenty of tattoos. Roman’s right arm was nearly covered with brightly colored tattoos that looked like a watercolor project. Remus had a similar, monochrome sleeve on his left arm.

Roman and Remus were co-owners of the tattoo parlor known as King’s Inks, named for their own last names. Logan never came in for an actual tattoo, they weren’t really his style, but the brothers were always welcoming to him. It wasn’t hard, even when living in a big city, for the creatures unknown to most humans to find one another. People like Logan… and people like Roman they stuck together. No matter if they both enjoyed tattoos or not.

Roman King and Remus King looked like normal, human twins to most. Other than Roman’s slightly pointed ears, of course. If someone was not in the know about fae or changelings, then they may just assume that it was just a part of Roman’s unique style.

“I don’t care! Lolo’s lost his mind!”

Logan scoffed. “I assure you, my mind is very much intact and in my head, thank you. Do not insert me into your arguments with your sibling.”

“Please, Rem.” Roman rolled his eyes, completely ignoring Logan, as if the conversation were not completely about him and his emotions. “Stop acting like you’re so disgusted by displays of emotion, already.”

“Acting? Bold of you to assume that I can act. You’re the acting one. Your entire existence is based on acting like me.”

Roman huffed, dramatically. “As if you weren’t waxing poetic about Patton last Thursday! Logan remembers! Don’t you, Logan?”

“I was under the impression that we were talking about me this week.”

Roman waved his hand dismissively. “He means he remembers. So cut the bull, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but did not defend himself. His mouth was full of thai food again anyway.

Roman glared at his brother for just a second longer before returning his attention to Logan. Instantly, his expression was brighter, almost giddy. “In love?! Finally you got around to admitting it! What happened? Did something happen? Was it cute?”

“We danced.” Logan answered, simply. He had long surpassed any feelings of embarrassment around the King twins.

Roman squealed. Quite literally, squealed. Logan winced and leaned away. Remus fake retched again.

“You’re not going to just say that and not tell us everything, are you?” Roman hopped up to sit on the counter across from where Logan and Remus were sitting at the small table in the waiting room.

And so Logan did. Not because Roman King was particularly good at convincing, but because, not so secretly, Logan really had just come to the tattoo shop to tell his friends everything. That was what these weekly meetings were for, after all. It wasn’t official, or anything, but it had become expected for Logan to turn up at the tattoo parlor every Thursday to chat with Roman and Remus about all manners of things.

Most particularly, their individual romantic endeavors.

As Logan recounted the events of the previous night, Roman looked more and more excited. Usually, Logan would be frightened by such a level of sheer giddy enjoyment on the fae’s face, but today Logan could feel nothing less than happy. Content.

He still didn’t really know where his own courage had come from the night before. What exactly had possessed him upon entering their apartment to find Virgil swaying alone in the kitchen to music? Why had he suddenly acquired the romantic prowess it took to lead his roommate in an impromptu dance around the linoleum floor? Was it simply love?

Did it really matter?

Apparently not, according to the twins. Even Remus looked begrudgingly moved at the end of Logan’s tale.

“So when are you going to tell him?” The human twin asked.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked, confused. He had only just discovered these feelings, why on earth did Remus believe that he should instantly confess them? Honestly, Logan was much more comfortable enjoying this discovery in private, thank you very much.

“You should tell him!” Roman nearly shouted. “Don’t tell me that you’re just… not going to.”

“That was the plan, yes.”

“Wh- Men.” Roman exclaimed, falling back dramatically to lay across the bar that he was still sitting on.

Logan huffed. “This has nothing to do with my gender, Roman.” He wasn’t really offended by the comment, of course, he was just deflecting. Roman himself was genderfluid and was quite liberal with his comments about men, whether he was using he/him pronouns at the moment or not. “I just do not plan on telling Virgil about this right now. I see no reason to.”

“The reason is that you can be happy, Logan.”

Logan blinked, turning to face Remus. The moustached twin looked shockingly somber. Serious. It was like spotting a unicorn, seeing Remus like this. “I-”

“Logan, just listen and don’t talk for once.” Logan desperately wanted to point out that coming from Remus, such a statement was frankly laughable, but he bit his tongue. “You’ve been alive for nearly two centuries.” Logan barely held back a wince at the reminder of his age. Remus continued, completely carelessly. “And how many times have you really, and I mean really let yourself fall in love and stick with it?”

Logan could feel a lump of shame forming in his throat. He swallowed around it.

Roman picked up this time. His voice was much more soothing than his brother’s, but no less stern. “You’re always working, Logan. You’re always going, and we get it. You’ve been stuck at twenty-six years old for over a hundred and fifty years. You keep moving because the world keeps moving around you.” There was something sad in Roman’s golden-green eyes for a split second, but it was quickly masked. “You have to take a chance every once in a while. You should tell Virgil about your feelings. You know that you would be saying the same thing were it either of us.”

Remus continued. “Listen to your besties for once, Logan. You’ve been coming in here and going on and on about Virgil for weeks. Months. I don’t even know, it’s been so long. But the point is that you need to tell him. It’s been long enough, even Roman is tired of it. Not to mention, I’d bet my ass he feels the same.”

There was a moment of silence. Those were few and far between in King’s Inks.

Remus broke it after a few seconds, as though continuing his thought from earlier. “And you desperately need to get laid.”

Logan wrinkled his nose, distastefully. “Honestly, Remus, can you resist being vile for longer than ten minutes?”

Remus grinned, proudly digging back into his thai food. “Nope! It’s what I’m here for.” There was a momentary pause. “No, literally. It’s why the fair folk brought me back after switching me with Ro.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “It is not. Stop talking bad about yourself, or I’m going across the street and telling Patton.”

Logan may have been mistaken, or too caught up in his own issues, but for a moment there, it looked as though Remus’s cheeks were brushed with a light shade of pink.

As the brother’s began to bicker, Logan pulled back into his own thoughts. Perhaps… Should he tell Virgil? Despite the raging swarm of butterflies that attacked the pit of Logan’s stomach at the very thought, he had to admit that letting his emotions out in the open would feel a lot better than continuing living with Virgil for however much longer, pretending that he felt nothing more than friendship for him. It was already agony just in his mind’s eye.

There were so many possible downsides, though. Logically, Logan knew that Virgil would not become angry if Logan were to confess. It was highly unlikely that Virgil would cut off all contact with Logan or kick him out of the apartment, either. In fact, after the previous night’s display…

Logan, holding Virgil against his chest as though he were something precious--because he was, of course--the two of them twirling around their tiny kitchen, as though they were the only two people in the world. Soft music playing from Virgil’s phone, the perfect songs for them luckily playing back to back, as if hand picked. Logan had had the lyrics swirling in his mind on repeat ever since. It had been… magical. Lovely. Wonderful. Everything that Logan had never known he needed.

And it was well worth the risk of mortification that he could forget in fifty years if Logan had even the slightest of chances to hold onto Virgil like that again.

“I’m going to do it.” Logan’s voice rang out, perfectly clear, over the twins’ quickly heating argument.

Roman gasped. “Really? I didn’t think we would be able to talk you into it!”

“You didn’t. I simply decided that it was a low risk, high reward situation. Statistically, I have more to lose by not attempting to tell Virgil my… discovery than I do by telling him.”

“Cut the bull, nerd.” Remus was grinning again, in a way that would have appeared almost… menacing, were Logan not so used to Remus’s odd expressions. “We all know that you did not actually calculate the statistical risk of telling Virgil you’re in-” Remus caught up to his own words and dramatically retched again, as though the very word he was about to say was an allergen.

“In love,” Roman finished for his brother, “I can’t believe you’re going to do it! Oh- You should get some flowers for him from the shop down the street! The warlock who owns it is always so perceptive about what to get for which occasion. Oh, this will be so romantic-”

Logan cleared his throat. “You do know that if- when I tell Virgil, you will not be in attendance, correct?”

Roman waved a hand dismissively. “Details.”

Remus stood and stretched, his back cracking loudly. “Alright, well if you two are about to plan the most boring pre-fuck in the world, I’m going down to the café. You two want anything?”

The vampire and the fae both shook their hands, and Remus left the tattoo parlor, the bell above the door jingling jovially over the quick chatter from Roman as the door swung shut behind him.

----

Virgil couldn’t focus on his work.

To be fair, Virgil had never been good at focusing on his job. When he wasn’t actually consulting, Virgil was a developer. Which meant that he essentially made his own schedule. Which also meant that he had no accountability for any sort of timeline.

It became especially hard when Virgil’s mind was completely occupied by Logan Doyle.

Virgil, lately, had spent quite a bit of every day thinking about Logan. But after the night before… Virgil couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every time he closed his eyes, he was there again, in the middle of the kitchen, breathing in Logan’s vanilla scented cologne. Every time he paused between keystrokes, the notes from the music that had played that night floated through his mind.

It was unbearably distracting.

Patton had texted Virgil at about 1 A.M., asking whether he would be at the café that night. At first, Virgil had considered sending back a snarky text telling them that he would not be returning to P&J’s until Janus stopped being a little shit and avoiding telling him what his little laughing fit during his last visit had been about.

Instead, however, out of his own gracious nature, Virgil held back his sarcasm.

It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that he had spent the past 20 hours feeling as though his chest were full of bubbles, imagining Logan’s hand on his waist.

Virgil: not tonight. I’ve got work to do.

What happened? Patton texted back immediately.

Virgil cursed his friend’s intuition.

Virgil: nothing! I just don’t feel like coffee.

Pat: And you do feel like work?

Virgil: no, I feel like being at home.

There was a pause. Virgil watched as a bubble indicating that Patton was typing appeared and disappeared about three times in quick succession.

Pat: Hold on. I’m moving this to the group chat.

Virgil cursed. If Janus got wind of what was happening, Virgil would never hear the end of it. Janus could sniff out Virgil’s emotional turmoil like no one else. No pun intended.

Before he could respond and tell them to not tell Janus under any circumstances, Patton had sent a text in the trio’s group chat.

Pat: What’s going on, Virgil?

Janus: Something’s up with Virgil?

Virgil: no. I just said I wasn’t coming in today.

Janus: Why not?

Virgil: I have work to do!

Pat: We’re just worried about you, honey.

Virgil groaned, but didn’t correct the pet name. Even though he didn’t like being coddled, sometimes the affection Patton put into their words wasn’t so bad. It certainly wasn’t a decision ruled by Virgil’s current good mood.

Virgil: I just wanted to stay home today. I’m fine.

Janus: That means you’re either mid depression spiral or-

Virgil softened a bit. His friends really did get him. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Virgil had fallen into a spiral since he met the two, and Janus and Patton were sadly well acquainted with Virgil’s moods. He knew that if he really were in the middle of an episode that Patton and Janus wouldn’t hesitate to close the coffee shop for the night and come keep him company.

Pat: Are you? V?

Virgil shook his head and texted back quickly.

Virgil: I’m not. Really.

Janus: Oh fuck.

Pat: ???

Janus: Are you in bed with Logan right now?

Pat: !!!

Virgil: NO.

Janus: Are you about to be?

Pat: !!!!!!!!!!!

Virgil: no.

Janus: What happened, then?

Virgil: none of your business. I just answered Pat’s text. I do not deserve to be interrogated.

Janus: This is not an interrogation. It is a series of educated guesses and negations.

Virgil: I plead the fifth, then.

Janus: Not an interrogation. You have no rights.

Virgil: didn’t you drop out of law school?

Janus: After my girlfriend nearly killed me, actually.

Pat: Boys, let’s not fight. Are you sure you’re alright, Virgil?

Virgil: yeah, I promise.

Oddly enough, Virgil was considering expanding on what was actually going on--Patton tended to have that effect on him. They were amazingly good at pulling Virgil’s deepest thoughts from him. Something about their trust and gentle concern was surprisingly convincing. Just as he was about to respond, there was a knock at the door.

Virgil instantly tensed. It was only 1 in the morning. Even on Logan’s off nights, like Virgil knew tonight was, Logan never got home before 2 or 3.

And even when he was early or late, Logan had his own key. Of course he did. With that stupid fluffy black keychain that Virgil had clipped onto his key ring weeks ago.

Had something happened?

Virgil glanced back down at his phone and sent a quick dismissal text to his two friends.

Virgil: I’ll see you guys later. Gotta go.

Janus: Chicken.

Pat: Alright! Have a good night, Virgil!

Virgil couldn’t stop the way his lips quirked up at the texts. He was still looking down at his phone as he took his first few steps towards the apartment door. There was another, slightly less polite sounding knock on the door.

“Coming!” Virgil called, clicking his phone off and sliding it into the pocket of his hoodie.

The light from the hallway outside cast a shadow that Virgil could see in the crack underneath the door. Whoever was on the other side was standing rather close to the door. Virgil couldn’t quite shake the sense that there was something off. He tried not to focus on it too much. He was in a good mood. Whoever the hell it was knocking on his door at one in the morning was probably just at the wrong door.

Any other night, Virgil would have been more cautious.

Any other night, when Virgil was in any other mood than completely besotted, Virgil may not have answered the knock at all.

As it was, Virgil opened the apartment door with little to no hesitation.

On the other side, standing in the dimly lit hallway stood a man with a nest of curly black hair and a form-fitting leather jacket, a pair of sunglasses hanging from the neck of his plain black t-shirt. If Virgil didn’t feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up with some sort of instinctual unease, he may have thought that the man in front of him was handsome.

“Can I help you?” Anxiety seeped into Virgil’s tone. He looked the man up and down. The large boots. The perfectly straight posture. The tense shoulders. He suddenly wished very much that he had not opened the door.

The man smiled. There was something distinctly menacing about it. “Is Logan here?”

Virgil’s stomach twisted. He knew, suddenly, that he should not, under any circumstances, tell this man where Logan was. He felt his fangs poking at his lower lip, descending involuntarily. “Who are you?” His voice was gruffer than intended. The question was polite enough, but Virgil’s tone was nearly a hiss.

“I’m Nate Miller.” The man put a hand on the outside of the door. He didn’t push it open any wider than Virgil held it, but Virgil got the distinct impression that he would if Virgil made any sort of move to shut the door in his face.

“And you’re Virgil Noir, aren’t you?”

----

The warlock from the flower shop suggested that Logan go with a traditional bouquet of a dozen red roses.

Logan, however, while a traditional man of 182 years old, wanted something a bit more creative.

Roman had hovered over his shoulder for the entire exchange, offering his two cents with each choice that Logan attempted to make. His helpfulness was suffocating, but Logan didn’t let it deter him.

By the time that they were done, Logan had a beautiful, and rather pricey, bouquet picked out.

It was beautiful. It was wholly unnecessary, of course, but Logan didn’t mind getting caught up in Roman’s dramatics from time to time too much.

Virgil deserved as much.

The walk back to the apartment passed by Logan in a blur of cracked sidewalk and brisk air.

Logan had made this walk plenty of times before, but that time it felt… different. The air was full of promise, and though he was hesitant to admit it, even to himself, a sort of… hope that Logan hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

It was a breath of fresh air. Possibility.

Probability, if Logan allowed himself to make a couple of more hopeful assumptions based on that look in Virgil’s eyes the night before.

It wasn’t until he got to the door of the apartment complex that any sort of anxiety started to catch up with him. Seeing Virgil usually brought a calm over Logan. Coming back to the apartment to see his roommate was in itself like unwinding after a long day. Virgil had an uncanny ability of loosening every ward that Logan set up around himself.

But as Logan ascended the stairs--the elevator would definitely take too long right then, especially since Logan had noticed that it was descending right as he walked into the building--he took note of the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach.

The bats taking nest in his gut quickly fell into a pit as Logan saw the door to their apartment.

The open door to their apartment.

The bouquet fell from Logan’s hands, tumbling to the carpeted floor of the hallway.

Logan was at the door in less than a second, much faster than any human could move.

The bolt on the door was scratched, as if it had been forced open. If Logan’s heart hadn’t already stopped beating, this would have put a halt to it. He pushed the door open lightly, slowly, as though the seconds that it took to do so would stop this from happening--stop what he was seeing from being true.

Carefully, residual training from his years of being a detective when he was alive kicking in, Logan picked his way into the room so as not to disturb what was inside.

The apartment, for the most part, was exactly as he had left it. Further in, Logan could see that the living room was undisturbed.

Whatever had happened hadn’t made it past the entryway.

The entryway itself was a mess. The corkboard that Logan had hung up on the wall was crooked, the miscellaneous take-out menus and schedules were either barely hanging on by their push pins or scattered across the floor. The umbrella stand was knocked completely to the ground, as was the dish that usually held their keys. It was laying on the wood floor, shattered. Virgil’s keys underneath.

The knot in Logan’s throat that had nothing to do with thirst tightened. Finally, emotion overtook care. “Virgil?!” Logan called out into the empty apartment. His voice echoed off of the walls.

Dashing forward, past the wreckage of their entryway, Logan entered the living room. He glanced around quickly, desperately, but it was empty. “Virgil?!” He turned on his heel. So was the kitchen. Fast as he possibly could, Logan was at the door to Virgil’s bedroom, throwing it open and finding it silent and desolate. Desperate, Logan shot to the door to his own bedroom and flung it open, only to find the same thing.

Shaking, Logan was back at the kitchen in a blink. Virgil’s laptop was sitting, untouched on the counter. Just as he was about to give up, something caught the corner of Logan’s eye.

A flash of white. Instantly, Logan was back at the front door, pushing it closed.

There, pinned to the door of his and Virgil’s apartment with a silver knife was a slip of paper.

Logan felt sick. It was paper from a pad that they kept in the kitchen. Paper that he usually wrote notes for Virgil on before he left for the night.

Doyle,

I believe I have something you want. You know where to find me.

-NM

The shaking stopped. The paper nearly tore with the force that Logan was gripping it. Clutching the note in one hand, Logan reached into the side pocket of his messenger bag for his cell phone. By the time that he had dialed Remus’s number, he was already out the front door of the apartment building.

----

It was barely fifteen minutes later when they all made it to King’s Inks.

Fifteen minutes too long, in Logan’s opinion.

Roman had just barely been able to talk Logan down from taking off after Virgil.

Rationally, Logan knew that he would have done the same thing if he were in Roman’s place. If he had snatched Remus's phone from his hand and heard himself, desperate and earth shakingly angry, raving about going off alone after a hunter of unknown ability, he would have talked himself down too.

That didn’t mean that he was any less angry about it.

When Logan had reached the tattoo parlor, only one twin had been waiting for him. When Roman told Logan that Remus had gone down the street to get the owners of the local coffee shop, Logan had nearly gone off on him. Thankfully, Roman’s bullshit detector and friendship was stronger than Logan’s ferocity.

The bell above the door had jingled not too long later, and Logan had stopped his pacing to look at the new arrivals.

Remus entered the tattoo parlor followed by two rather eclectic characters that Logan could only assume were the owners of the café down the street. He barely listened through introductions, just gathering the essentials--that Patton and Janus were friends of Virgil’s and here to help.

Roman then had to pry the--for lack of any other possible description, though it made Logan sick to the stomach to think it--ransom note from Logan’s hand to pass it around to the other three.

“Who is NM?” Janus’s voice was gruff, enough so that Logan didn’t even need to register the wet dog smell to know that he was a werewolf.

“Nate Miller.” Logan hissed out. His foot tapped impatiently against the polished concrete floor of the tattoo parlor. “He approached me at my work earlier this week.”

Janus raised a single eyebrow but didn’t challenge it. If Logan were in a better state, he would have noticed the worried tilt to Janus’s mouth, or the way that his back was ramrod straight. He would have noticed that Janus was just as worried for Virgil as he was.

To Janus’s left, holding the ransom note and staring unblinkingly at it, was Patton. They were trembling, their eyes glassy. Remus was leaning over their shoulder to read the note as well. Logan barely noticed the supportive hand that the human twin had placed on the new vampire’s back.

“And there was no sign of Virgil?” Logan swallowed back the urge to snap in his reply, only because of the waver in Patton’s voice. “How long ago do you think-”

“I don’t know.” Logan clipped. “Not long before I arrived back at the apartment. It still reeked of him.” Old Spice and gunpowder. Logan could still smell the phantom of it. “I need to find him.”

Roman placed a calming hand on Logan’s shoulder. “That’s what we’re trying to do, hothead. We’re trying to get your boyfriend back, but you shouldn’t go running off after a hunter alone. Especially not one that is obviously targeting you.”

Janus nodded along. “For once, Roman is speaking sense.” Roman’s cheeks flushed a soft pink at the low-bar praise. “I thought that you were supposed to be smart?”

Logan leveled a glare at the wolf. “I’m sorry, do you know me?”

Janus shrugged. “Might as well. Virgil talks about you enough.”

“What does it mean?” Patton interrupted before Logan could respond. “‘You know where to find me.’ Do you, Logan?”

Logan nodded curtly. “The observatory. There’s nothing else that it could mean. That’s where he confronted me before.” Just thinking about it stirred up Logan’s anger again. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, tugging on it at the ends. “I just don’t understand! Why would he take Virgil if he wants me? He’s a human! He has nothing to do with this!”

The whole room froze and went suddenly, unbearably silent.

“What?” Logan snapped. He should probably feel worse about being so harsh with his friends--and, apparently, Virgil’s friends--but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Are you kidding me? Still?” Remus’s voice was shrill. More shrill than usual, even.

All four of the others were staring directly at Logan, with varying looks of disbelief and resignation.

“Logan, honey.” Patton’s voice was unbearably fond, despite the fact that Logan had only really known them for a couple of minutes. “Virgil is a vampire too.”

Logan blinked. Then blinked again. For a moment, just a moment, he forgot all about where they were and what was going on. And suddenly, everything made sense. “Shit.”

The others watched him, concerned, for just a moment before Janus spoke again, redirecting them all back to the matter at hand. Logan, however, felt as though his head was spinning. Everything that he had known was suddenly turned on its head. He took a deep breath.

There would be time to deal with his revelation later. For now, he needed to focus. Virgil needed him. Virgil needed all of them.

Logan looked up, refocusing back on the others. They were talking quietly amongst themselves. Logan cleared his throat.

“We need to make a plan.”

----

The planetarium was silent when Logan arrived. Anyone would have assumed that it was deserted.

The planetarium was closed for the night, which is why it was Logan’s day off. Usually the planetarium and, specifically, the observatory was a place of comfort for him. Tonight, however, he wanted nothing more than to not have to be here.

Well, that was untrue. He did want one thing more, and Nate Miller knew it.

His footsteps echoed through the empty halls. Spinning diagrams of planets and moons that would normally have been mesmerizing hung from the ceiling. During the day, the planetarium was beautiful.

Logan had the path to the observatory memorized. He walked down the halls quickly but with caution, not using his vampire speed. There was no way of telling what Nate had been prepared for when he demanded that Logan meet him here. There could be any number of traps and Logan needed to keep his head on his shoulders, as Janus had not so politely warned before they had split up.

Despite his admirable restraint, Logan still moved more recklessly than he probably should have on his way there.

The door was cracked when Logan reached the observatory, propped open with a stopper. Logan didn’t hesitate before crossing the threshold and entering. It was just as quiet inside the observatory as the rest of the planetarium had been. The aisles of plush, fold theatre-style seats innocently lined the rounded walls and radiated inwards, completely empty. The ceiling was rolled back and open to the heavens. A clear night sky shown down on Logan and the empty rows of seats. It was beautiful, but Logan knew the implications of the sight.

It was nearing dawn now. The sun would be rising within the hour.

Behind him, the door slammed shut. Thankfully, Logan had just enough dignity and composure not to flinch at the sound, although he did turn to see that the door had in fact been closed behind him.

“Well, well, well.” The voice--Nate’s voice--seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. The intercom system. Logan scanned the room for movement, quickly and imperceptibly. To the human eye, he would have simply appeared unmoving. Almost bored. “You actually came. Took you long enough.”

Logan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had never hated anything more than he hated that voice. “I got caught up.” He responded through clenched teeth. Logan wasn’t thrilled with the concept of conversing with Nate at all, but he needed the time. “Next time you should call.”

The laugh that followed sounded like nails scraping against a chalkboard to Logan.

“Oh, but darling, you never gave me your number.”

Logan’s fingernails were digging crescent moon shaped wounds into his palm. “Enough small talk. Where is he?”

“Who?” There was laughter still in Nate’s tone. Even though Logan couldn’t see him, his stomach was boiling with rage at the audacity.

“Enough of the games!” Logan hissed, striding a few purposeful steps further into the circular room. “Where is he? Where is Virgil?”

There was a despondent sigh from above, and suddenly, Logan could hear the stage in the center of the room rising.

Logan had been on that platform many times before, giving lectures and presentations to excited audience members. He was always filled with a warm sense of anticipation and excitement before those speeches, no matter the fact that he had given them countless times before.

Now, he felt nothing but dread as he watched the stage rise up from under the floor to eye level.

The figure in the center of the stage was strapped to a chair. Logan’s heart lurched to see Virgil, slumped over and limp, but his worry was rapidly overcome by venomous fury when he saw Nate Miller, standing just behind his unconscious roommate, a wooden stake in one hand.

“The monster is alive. For now. You and I have business to attend to, Doyle. It should be coming around any moment now.”

----

Virgil’s head was pounding. The world was spinning, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

It was worse than any hangover that he had ever endured as a human. His vision was blurred as his eyes cracked open, spots of brilliant color dancing at the edges of his vision. He felt his fangs poking against his bottom lip.

Virgil twitched, raising--or at least, trying to raise--his hand to rub at his temples. His eyes shot open as he realized that he couldn’t move his hands. Chest rising and falling rapidly with breaths spurred by increasingly rising anxiety rather than an actual need to breathe, Virgil jerked against the shackles on his wrists. Matching shackles, he realized, locked his feet to the legs of the chair that he was in.

He couldn’t move at all.

“I’d stop that if I were you.” An almost bored voice spoke in Virgil’s ear. Jerking away, Virgil turned his neck to face his captor. Distantly, Virgil recognized the face.

His mind was still swimming, but he remembered it. Opening the door, half expecting Logan to be on the other side, and being met with this man. Knowing almost immediately that something was off, being forced back into his own home, barely having a chance to fight back, barely getting to call out before a sharp pain was radiating through his skull and everything was fading to black.

Virgil hissed, desperately leaning away from the man and the wooden stake that he was gripping with obvious intent.

The man’s eyes flashed, the patient facade disintegrating before Virgil’s eyes, revealing a manic sort of rage that terrified Virgil to the core.

“Virgil.”

The voice snapped Virgil out of his terror. Virgil’s eyes flew across the room, down to where Logan was standing, in the middle of an aisle--where were they?--worry and--Virgil’s heart panged with hurt--fear in his eyes.

Logan took a single step forward, but before he could move any more, the man behind Virgil was pressing the tip of the stake right against the spot where his unbeating heart was.

“Not another step, Doyle. You even try and move and this monster is dust.” The man growled the words in a way that reminded Virgil of someone barely hanging on to sanity. Virgil kept his eyes trained on Logan. The man’s voice smoothened suddenly, as though he were getting himself under thinly spread control. “We can just talk, can’t we? Just the three of us.”

Virgil sent Logan a pleading look. Logan needed to get out of there. He had to leave before this hunter--because he had to be a hunter, there was no other explanation--hurt him. Logan met the look with a determined shake of the head.

“Why don’t you introduce us all, Doyle?”

Virgil swallowed thickly, glancing back at the hunter before returning his eyes to Logan, confused. But Logan wasn’t looking at him any longer. His gaze was trained on the hunter behind him and Virgil felt as though he were missing something distinctly important.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. Virgil knew that face. Logan was biting back what he really wanted to say, and if there weren’t a stake pointed at his heart, Virgil would have wanted Logan to speak his mind and push this arrogant bastard right off of his soapbox.

Logan’s eyes flicked back to Virgil’s, and once again Virgil could see that little flicker of fear. Virgil swallowed down his own hurt.

“Virgil Noir, my roommate and… my friend.” There was something hesitant in the way Logan said it. Virgil tried desperately to focus on his anger. He had every right to be angry right now, and it had everything to do with the hunter threatening to kill him. He had no right to feel so… betrayed by Logan.

Logan, however, had every right to be scared after finding out that his roommate was a monster.

“And you are Nate Miller.” Logan continued. Virgil grimaced. Fuck Nate Miller. Virgil hated even his name. “A hunter who approached me yesterday at my place of work, and who is not targeting me. Why?”

There was a shocked, deranged sounding laugh from behind Virgil, and the hunter placed his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. Disgusted, Virgil shook it off, only to freeze when the sharpened end of the stake pressed threateningly against his chest. “Are you joking?” Nate’s voice was nearly an octave higher than it had been before. He sounded incredulous. “Don’t act like you don’t remember me, Doyle. Stupidity is unflattering for you.”

Logan’s face remained impassive. Virgil curiously looked him up and down. As someone who considered himself very good at reading Logan, Virgil could confidently say that he genuinely looked confused.

Virgil forced a laugh past his monumental anxiety. “Looks like you’re not that memorable, dude, sorry to break it to you.”

Nate grabbed a fistful of Virgil’s hair at the back of his head, tilting it back. “Shut up, bloodsucker! Don’t think I won’t put you down like the monster you are.”

Virgil gritted his teeth to hide the pain. “Do it then! By the time you turn me to dust, Logan will be gone.” Virgil looked down from where his head was still tilted at the uncomfortable angle to meet Logan’s eyes.

Logan shook his head minutely and Virgil’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Nate chuckled, breathlessly, releasing Virgil’s hair from his grasp and stepping around the chair so that Virgil could finally see him fully. Virgil’s first thought was that he was rather short, for a hunter. “Nice try. Goading me into focusing on you. I’m not an amateur. Doyle wouldn’t leave his perfect little boyfriend. That’s why he’s here, you know. For you.”

Virgil ignored the words, though they made something that wasn’t strictly fear squirm in his gut. He wasn’t going to get hope for his relationship with Logan from a hunter who was threatening to kill him. “Sounds like someone’s jealous.” He said instead, taking a vindictive sort of joy from the fury that was clearly written on Nate’s face at the statement.

“Virgil.” Logan warned, taking a single step forward.

Nate held up the stake again, menacingly. “Don’t move, Doyle.” Logan froze. “You want to pretend you don’t remember? Fine, I’ll jog your memory.” Gripping the stake tightly but lowering it, Nate took another step closer, his eyes trained solely on Logan. It made Virgil want to kick him. Luckily for the hunter, his legs were still shackled to his chair.

“We met three years ago, before you moved here. You were working at that bookshop, remember?” Virgil frowned, his eyes lobbying back and forth between Logan and Nate. He was confused. Why was a hunter so obsessed with Logan? “You were always wearing that cute little scarf. For a few weeks there, I came to the shop to see you every day.”

Logan’s eyes were widening in recognition, surprise and confusion warring on his perfectly smooth features. Virgil swallowed thickly. Logan knew this hunter.

“I remember.” Logan’s voice was low, barely there. His hands, which had been tense and balled into white fists since he first arrived at the observatory were relaxing slightly. “But- I don’t understand? If you were a hunter-”

Nate laughed, an odd mixture of pleased--likely at the fact that Logan suddenly remembered their connection--and cruel. “Please. If I had known right away what you were, I wouldn’t have wasted the time. When I found out, it was right before you moved away. I was disgusted. Wasting so much time and energy on a vampire-” Nate spat the word like a curse.

Virgil sucked in a shallow breath. A vampire? Logan? No. That couldn’t possibly be true. The hunter had to be mistaken. There was no way that Virgil would not have known that Logan was also a vampire. Except…

It did sort of make sense. Why Logan was also only ever awake at night, even on his days off. Why he was always just as cold as Virgil was. Why he kept so many jars of jam that Virgil was just realizing were definitely not full of jam. Virgil cursed himself. How had he not known-- How had he not noticed?

He remembered the other day at the café with Janus and Patton. If he got out of this alive, he was so going to kill Janus.

Then, of course, it dawned on Virgil exactly what sort of situation they were still in. If Logan was a vampire, then both of them were in danger right now. Logan had come for him, putting himself in grave danger. A hunter may spare a human, but they saw all creatures of the night as the same. Virgil’s eyes widened and he stared at Logan, trying to convey his urgency with his eyes.

Above all else, Logan had to get out of this observatory okay.

But Logan wasn’t looking at Virgil anymore.

“So you followed me?”

“I had to track you down!” The hunter cried, as if the alternative were impossible. “All you monsters are the same. I couldn’t just let you get away with tricking me-- with seducing me, masquerading as if you could possibly be normal. You’re a killer.”

Logan looked incensed. “If you’ve been watching me for so long, then you know that I haven’t killed anyone recently.”

“But you have before.” Nate spat, his eyes wild. “Don’t deny it. All of you are killers, whether you fancy yourself reformed or not. You need to pay for what you’ve done.” Nate gestured to Virgil, hatred burning in his eyes, despite the fact that he couldn’t even deign to look at him properly. “From the research I’ve done about this one, it took it three years before it managed to stop slaughtering humans. You’re all the same, no matter how much better you think that you are.”

Virgil winced. Guilt clawing at his insides. He barely remembered the three years after he was first turned. It was the darkest period in his past, and having it so gracelessly laid bare in front of Logan made him want to do nothing more than disappear. But when he managed to look back up at Logan there was something… understanding in his eyes.

And that was when Virgil knew that whatever his past, whatever this hunter said and did, Virgil would do anything in his power to get the man that he loved out of this safely.

Even if it meant putting his neck on the line by riling up a deranged hunter.

“And how many lives have you ended in the past year alone?” Virgil hissed, staring defiantly up at his captor.

Nate scoffed. “None that matter, vampire. You dare to compare the lives of you creatures to human life-”

“Say,” Virgil drawled, his voice low, “are we just here to listen to you spew your manifesto about how much more pure than us you are, or are you actually going to do something?”

“Actually, I did have something in mind.” Nate’s face was unnervingly calm again. A pit of dread settled in Virgil’s stomach. Nate nodded up at the ceiling.

The open dome of a ceiling.

Virgil looked up and couldn’t help but notice the tell-tale signs of a sunrise along the edges of the circular opening. The clear implications dawned upon him--Patton would be proud that he could manage to think a pun even in such a dire situation--quickly. His eyes slipped closed in momentary resignation.

The sun is going to rise--likely within the next few minutes--and Virgil was there, shackled to a chair just under the open ceiling. The stake in the hunter’s hand was just for show. He fully intended to burn Virgil alive, and there was nothing that Logan could possibly do about it without risking his own life.

Logan himself just seemed to be putting together the implications of Nate’s thinly-veiled threat.

And suddenly, as though a switch were flipped, Logan’s calm demeanor changed. No longer was he feigning interest in Nate’s monologue or humoring his explanations. His fists were once again balled at his sides, white with tension, and for the first time ever, Virgil could see his fangs.

All at once, Virgil knew that Logan would not be letting this go quietly. He wasn’t completely sure what tipped him off, but he knew that if it came down to it, Logan would not be leaving him to burn alone under any circumstances.

It’s a sobering realization. Logan was going to risk his own life for no reason at all--because, honestly, how would his death help anyone? Virgil was still stuck there. If Logan really was a vampire--and he obviously was--he could have been out of there and safe before Nate could even blink. Virgil could not fathom why he looked so determined to waste his life, but he already knew what he needed to do about it.

Virgil forced a laugh. It was loud in the otherwise silent observatory. “Burning me? Really? That’s the best that you could do?”

Nate looked hilariously offended by the complete lack of shaking in his boots that Virgil was doing.

Virgil continued. “No, honestly, did you sit in your sad little apartment, surrounded by cut out pictures of Logan and red string and come up with this plan? Did you rub your little hands together and laugh maniacally? Did you honestly think that using the sun as your choice of weapon was poetic or something? What are you going to tell your little hunter friends? That you tracked down your old vampire crush and just sat and watched the sun rise with him?”

Nate turned an absolutely alarming shade of red. Really, it would have been funny had it not been immediately followed by his fist colliding with Virgil’s nose.

Virgil barely had time to hold in a grunt of pain before Nate was being pulled off of him and shoved to the ground. Virgil opened his eyes to see Logan on the platform with them, his knees straddling the hunter’s chest, and his hands wrapped around his neck.

“Logan-” Virgil desperately called out, completely ignoring his throbbing nose.

Nate was resisting, thrashing against Logan’s hold, and although Logan had the upper hand with the element of surprise, Virgil could do nothing but watch as the hand that was still clutching the wooden stake rose behind Logan.

“Logan!” The scream tore it’s way out of Virgil’s throat before he could think of the consequences. Logan’s grip on Nate faltered.

Before anything life shattering could happen, the stake was kicked from Nate’s hand by a black combat boot. Virgil’s eyes snapped up to see what--who--the boot was connected to, and his eyes were met with a man dressed in quite a bit of leather that Virgil had never seen before.

His first, terrifying thought is that this was another hunter, but no, this man was very obviously not on Nate’s side.

“Not on my fucking watch.” The man growled, kicking the stake even further away now that it was out of Nate’s grasp. The man looked angry, albeit not as angry as Logan, who was still apparently attempting to choke the life out of the hunter. His wild eyes were matched by a wild nest of shaggy brown hair that had a couple of glinting silver streaks in it, and offset by what appeared to be a very carefully maintained moustache.

He was altogether the strangest looking person that Virgil had ever seen, and he hadn’t even glanced in Virgil’s direction yet.

Virgil’s eyes were pulled away from the struggle by a light touch against one of his wrists, just above the shackle.

“Patton?” Sure enough, Patton was hovering over Virgil now, their eyes kind and concerned.

“Are you okay, V?” Their voice shook a bit. “What am I saying? Of course you aren’t okay. I’m sorry, Virgil.”

“Wh- How did you-?”

Patton smiled kindly, their eyes flicking over to Logan. “Logan called us--or, well, he called Remus,” They nodded in the direction of the punk guy, “and he told Roman, who called me and Janus. We’re going to get you out of here.”

For the first time since he had been texting Janus and Patton earlier, something loosened in Virgil’s chest. Relief.

Before he could say anything to thank Patton or perhaps ask who the hell Remus and Roman were, Patton was gripping the shackle that held Virgil’s left hand in place and tearing it away as though it were nothing.

Sometimes Virgil forgot just how strong they were.

Patton quickly repeated the process with Virgil’s remaining restraints.

“Logan. Get off of him.”

Virgil craned his neck, looking over his shoulder to see what was happening. The scuffle had moved. Logan still had the upper hand, but now there were two more figures standing over him and the hunter. The first was nearly identical to the one in the combat boots, though minus the moustache and with much tidier hair. The second--

“Janus.” Virgil almost felt like smiling at the sight of his friend. Janus looked up, his two-toned eyes flashing in the light.

Right. The light. The sunlight that was quickly approaching.

“Logan.” It was the second unknown one, the one with the perfect hair, that was speaking. Virgil just noticed the pointed ears that were poking out between his curls. “You have to stop. Remus, Jan and I have this. It’s almost sunrise. You have to get out of here, Logan.”

But Logan wasn’t listening. Virgil’s chest constricted. There was something dark--something dangerous--in Logan’s eyes. Nate wasn’t fighting much anymore. Any words that Virgil might have said were stuck in his throat.

Beside him, Patton whimpered.

“Logan!” The one with the moustache snapped, reaching down and grabbing one of Logan’s biceps. “Logan, you need to get Patton and Virgil out of here.”

Something of what the human said must have registered in Logan’s mind, because his grip on Nate loosened until he was no longer strangling him. Luckily, Nate didn’t get a chance to recover, because as soon as Logan was pulling away, Janus had Nate in his grasp, his eyes flashing golden.

Virgil could breathe again. He trusted that Janus, and whoever those other two were, had this.

“Logan.” He called, breathless. His voice was still raw from screaming earlier. His nose was still gushing blood and very likely crooked, but he didn’t care in the slightest. Not when Logan looked up at him.

In an instant, Logan was across the room and pulling Virgil into his arms. And Virgil let him. He didn’t resist for even a second, willingly letting himself melt against Logan like he’s a lifeline.

And in some ways, he was.

“Are you alright?” Logan’s voice was achingly tender. So heartbreakingly tender, given what he had just been doing seconds ago. “Did he- Did he hurt you any more than-”

Virgil cut him off because that dangerous note was coming back into Logan’s tone. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. It shouldn’t have been hot at all. “I’m fine, L. Are you-”

“If you’re safe, I am.”

And it was terrible timing. Just feet away, his best friend and two other people who he could only assume were Logan’s friends were fighting with a hunter. Patton was still right behind him, standing just off the stage, watching. But Virgil found himself leaning just that much closer to Logan. It was as if Logan had his own gravitational pull that tugged only on Virgil. He glanced down at Logan’s lips. One was split, but otherwise they looked just the same as they had the other night, when they were safe in their apartment.

Virgil let out a shaky exhalation. When he looked back up, Logan’s eyes were trained downwards. Towards his own lips. Virgil licked his lips.

Behind him, Patton gently cleared their throat. Virgil whirled around.

“I don’t want to interrupt, kiddos, but the sun is going to rise any minute now. We need to get you home.” They didn’t speak for themselves, but Virgil knew that Patton wouldn’t be leaving without them, and he didn’t want his friend to burn alive either.

He glanced back at Logan, but Logan’s expression was shuttered once again.

“Yes, you’re correct, Patton. We need to leave now.”

Virgil glanced back at the other four one last time. They had Nate under control once again. Swallowing, Virgil turned back to Patton and Logan and nodded once. “Let’s get out of here.”

----

In the end, they did indeed make it back to their apartment before the sun rises, if just barely. Patton left them only once they were sure that Logan and Virgil were okay enough to be left alone at their apartment.

Which was perfectly fair, because they had just had a home invasion only a few hours ago.

When they were back in the apartment building and safe from the approaching dawn, the two of them began to clean the apartment in silence.

It really wasn’t that big of a mess, but both of them seemed to silently agree that they would not be able to rest until the apartment was returned to the state that it had been before. When things were safe.

Virgil’s tongue felt too big in his mouth as he helped right the entryway. Only hours ago he had been trying and failing to fend off Nate in this very spot. And, sure, things were okay now, but somehow it feels suddenly much  more real than it had when they were leaving the observatory.

As for Logan… He looked tense. It was understandable. Because Virgil had gone and got himself kidnapped like some sort of damsel in distress-

His stomach curled in on itself. He couldn’t shake the anxious thought that Logan was… angry with him for it.

And it was stupid. It was so stupid, and Virgil knew it. After everything that Logan just went through to get Virgil back, there was very very little chance that Logan would blame anyone other than Nate for this turn of events. And even if he did blame someone else, Virgil knew Logan, and he knew that if anything, he was likely blaming himself.

Which was even more stupid.

Once the entryway was presentable again, Logan cleared his throat. Virgil paused, halfway through taking his hoodie off. Usually he wore it even when inside their apartment, but right now everything that he was wearing felt… dirty.

“Are you sure that you’re alright?” Logan’s voice was soft. Quieter than usual. Almost… unsure. Which was almost unheard of for Logan.

Virgil softened, pulling his jacket the rest of the way off. “I’m… I won’t lie, Logan, I’m pretty shaken but… I’ll be fine. Are you…?”

Logan dodged the question, finally looking over at Virgil with thinly masked guilt in his eyes. “Your nose stopped bleeding.”

Virgil reached up a tentative hand to his face. To be honest, he had forgotten about it. The pain had numbed, but when he prodded it gently with a finger, he could tell that it was definitely broken. Patton would have said something if it had needed to be set, though, so Virgil wasn’t too worried. “I’m sure I’m a sight right now.” He chuckled weakly. It fell flat. There was silence in the apartment for a moment. “Logan-”

“I’m sorry.” Logan exclaimed, before Virgil could continue. “This is my fault. I… If you were hurt, I would… I never would have forgiven myself.”

“Don’t say that.” Virgil tried, stepping closer to Logan.

“It’s true.” Logan insisted. “If he had hurt you, or heaven forbid-” Logan made a little choked noise. “I couldn’t have lived with myself. You did nothing wrong. You didn’t deserve-”

“And neither did you.” Virgil’s voice was firm, pushing back against all denial. “You didn’t call this upon us, Logan. I don’t care if he thought that he knew you, or if he had hurt me any more than he did. None of it was your fault, and none of it would have been your fault. He is a hunter. I’m- We’re vampires. It could have happened at any time with any hunter.”

“But it didn’t! It was him, and he was targeting me. He only hurt you because I-”

Virgil’s mouth felt very dry as Logan cut himself off. “What matters is that we’re safe. We’re okay.” He tried to reassure Logan.

Logan closed his eyes, defeat settling over his features. “You don’t understand. He only hurt you because of how much I love you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy. They certainly weren’t how Virgil had ever imagined that they would be said for the first time. Still, a soft warmth blooms in Virgil’s chest. There were nerves there too, but he found it easy to ignore them. Mostly, he felt an overwhelming sense of rightness. Two days ago it had been impossible to consider that Logan loved him back.

But now… it was like he could see that Logan had been saying it for a long time now. He had said it earlier, when he had been so obviously terrified for Virgil. He had said it the night before, when he held Virgil close and they swayed around the kitchen. He had said it even before that, when he made sure to be quiet every evening when he left for work just after sunset, when Virgil was still holding on to sleep. He said it when he picked ocean documentaries for Virgil, even though he was not-so-secretly terrified of the ocean. He had said it countless times since they had met, even though Virgil was only just now hearing it for the first time.

Virgil took the remaining few steps forward to close the distance between them. Logan looked almost pained. Before Virgil could lose his confidence in himself--in this--he reached out and placed a hand on Logan’s cheek.

When Logan met his eyes, Virgil damn near melted into the ground. Logan’s deep, chocolate brown eyes always were a weakness of his. He wanted to say something. But, then again, Virgil never really had been the one that was good with words. That was definitely more Logan’s department. Instead, Virgil just leaned forward and closed the distance between them completely.

Logan’s lips were soft, just like the rest of him was, although he was loathe to show it. He gasped softly against Virgil’s mouth, but he didn’t even try to pull away.

Logan leaned into the kiss with an insistence that made Virgil’s still heart pirouette in his chest. Virgil exhaled, and it felt as though he had been holding his breath his entire life, despite the fact that he hadn’t needed to breathe in just over fourteen years.

Kissing Logan was like finally coming home. And though it was terribly cliché, Virgil couldn’t bother to imagine another way to describe it. Virgil couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of this sensation. From his head to his toes, he felt warm.

He felt alive.

Slowly, Virgil parted his lips under Logan’s and even though Virgil had been the one to initiate the kiss, he was surprised when Logan took his lower lip between his own. Virgil didn’t bother to hold back the low noise that arose in the back of his throat, thankful once again that he couldn’t blush.

The noise seemed to be appreciated, though, because Logan made a rather audible noise of appreciation. Right before Virgil felt a sting on his lower lip.

Logan pulled back almost immediately after, a startled--no, a shell shocked--expression on his face. His fangs were descended and Virgil knew instantly that that was what he had felt. He bit back a laugh.

Logan looked breathless. He looked breathtaking.

“I love you too.” Virgil confessed, his hand still cradling Logan’s cheek. “Of course I do. I would have done exactly the same thing if it were you.”

And Logan.

Logan laughed.

And it was the tension break that they needed after the completely awful night that they had both just experienced.

It was not a loud laugh. It was not really hysterical, either, though Virgil would have understood if Logan had lost his mind just a bit after the night that they had just had. It was a laugh of disbelief, mostly, and Virgil wholeheartedly agreed.

He couldn’t hold back a smile, and as he often couldn’t when he was with Logan. He didn’t even want to try. So instead he smiled.

Logan’s eyes turned serious. “I love you.” He repeated, this time with more conviction. He brought up a hand to cradle Virgil’s face, just as Virgil was. Virgil ran the pad of his thumb across Logan’s perfect cheekbone.

“I love you too.” Virgil replied. And after everything, that was enough.

[jacksallys]

🎬📺 Share ten different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order 🎮🃏 Then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice)

Sending this to you <3

OH okay yes i have a list w every character i’ve ever loved so this is quite easy for me

sirius black honestly it’s my personal mission in life to get every single person that’s ever met me to associate me w sirius black. that stupid little cunt has been my FAVOURITE guy since i was SIX years old. that’s thirteen years what

mike wheeler if u think this needs an explanation i feel like you’ve not rlly looked at my blog!

peter parker am i convinced if i was a marvel character he’d be in love w me yes. am i also convinced i’m the same person as him. also yes don’t psychoanalyse me

wylan van eck if i had to pick one ginger to save from total destruction it would be him… which says a lot because my cat is ginger

annabeth chase surprisingly enough i didn’t get attached to her the first time round reading pjo because i lowkey was too busy learning abt greek myth stuff to attach to a character but the SECOND TIME?? ur dad chose his new wife over you?? bitch me too the fuck

ronan lynch i think ronan was one of the characters that it took the least amount of time for me to fall in love w actually. he’s just so insane and the whole like. thing. of his existence. like his entire being. what’s the word. idk. but he makes me wanna gnaw my fucking arm off

simon snow i’ve been compared to this guy by multiple people and he’s literally sunshine personified and it made me rethink my stance on the “am i the moon gf / or the sun gf” thing bc i THOUGHT i was the moon but it turns out i am not. he was the first “sunshine” trope character that i fell in love w. not the last tho! half of the bitches in my list are just sunshiney motherfuckers it’s filled w them

aled last i feel like most people underestimate how much i love aled! i’m his biggest fan! i’m ao3 user aledlast! i’ve never cried as much over w character whilst reading their source material (etc. not fanfic or just crying over them in general) as i have him. like. he made me feel seen in a way i’ve never felt before and i’m l obsessed w him. if u love aled last i love you

chris halliwell he’s from charmed ok i feel like the majority of people who follow me have ZERO idea what that is! it’s my favourite show of all time and hes fucked up w mummy issues AND daddy issues AND abandonment issues so how could i not get attached to him

zuko listen he’s just like… THAT. idk i enjoy men that remind me of fucking drowned skinny little stray kittens. do i think abt him twenty four seven no i don’t but he’s one of those characters where whenever i think abt them i feel like i’m getting a hug. i don’t particularly like hugs so it’s not a good analogy actually fuck whoever came up with that

[weepingwitch]

my pedal board signal chain, explained

aka how i make those weird guitar sounds

1. saturnworks kill switch (momentary)

stepping on this mutes the input from the guitar until it is released.

2. boss dd-3 (siegmeyer sticker)

set in hold mode so it will just repeat a short burst of sound over and over again as long as it's held down, useful for drones or writing harmonies.

3. tuner

cuts signal when engaged, acting as a latching kill switch, useful for tuning or changing guitars.

4. expression overdrive

lets me sweep back and forth between completely clean and boosted/overdriven, useful for beefing up distortions after it or gradually building gain.

5. weird combo pedal (mushroom sticker)

I'm like at least the third owner of it, don't know the original components but it's an analog delay pedal set to like slapjack almost reverb and a shitty distortion pedal housed together in one enclosure. each side can be turned on and off separately, and originally they had independent inputs and outputs but I wired them together so it's always delay into distortion. I love this pedal bc it's basically my big sound but in one box. distortion is almost a fuzz.

6. boss sd-1 (hyrule shield sticker)

first pedal I ever got, basic overdrive sound that's lighter than distortion, you can still play chords without getting too muddy.

7. rainbow machine

if you know what this is, you know what this is. weird pitch shifting delay that I use for both a barely-detuned lush chorus and intense acid trip sounds. pitch detune controlled by expression pedal A.

8. boss phaser (moon sticker)

slow rate for a gradual sweep. useful for sounding like pink floyd. good for clean parts.

9. joyo vision modulation (triforce sticker)

dual modulation, I use it for a lot of things, but mainly bitcrusher, octave up/down, and really fast rate chorus.

10. joyo us dream distortion

my favorite regular distortion / main pre-delay distortion. used for power chords or solos. I think the circuit is based off of suhr riot? idk it just sounds like what distortion should sound like. for alt rock or pop punk.

11. rubberneck delay

analog delay with rate adjust, good warm delay but also fun time stretchy pitch shifty sounds as you half or double the delay tempo. tap tempo set by pedal B, synced with dd-7 later in the chain.

12. boss bass overdrive (sparkly purple)

this is the heaviest shit you'll ever hear. fuzzy bass distortion that you feel in your bones. the downstairs neighbors probably hate this one.

13. joyo british sound

technically an amp sim, I use it for something kinda on the verge of drive and light distortion. different eq/tone than the sd-1 and the expression overdrive, but these three are the basics of my low-gain sound.

14. boss chorus

basic chorus set at a slow rate. I use this as my subtlest modulation pedal, just kinda thickening things out.

15. boss flanger

slow rate flange for that jet engine sound. layer over the phaser for ultimate modulation for underwater or spacey sounds.

16. joyo tremolo (painted lines, hamcat? sticker)

choppy trem. I'll adjust rate as needed but usually keep it choppy.

17. keeley realizer

set to soft focus mode. pretty intense mono reverb with modulation and delay. the reverb half of the keeley loomer pedal. when run after bitcrusher, makes for some fun synth sounds.

18. boss dd-7 (dark sun gwyndolin sticker)

main delay, second pedal I ever got. tap tempo set by pedal B and synced with the rubberneck but at a different tempo subdivision. mono signal splits into stereo here, with delays ping-ponging back and forth between left and right channel.

19. digitech polara

big shimmer stereo reverb that sounds like you are going to heaven. the opposite of subtle. massive on it's own, wall of sound when run into the distortions after it.

20. la lady stereo distortion

two distortions run in parallel, one for left channel and one for right channel. still messing around with the exact distortion mode I like best for each amp. for big distortion after delay/reverb sound.

21. boss looper

stereo loop pedal with two channels, lets me loop random shit over each other and save to play back later. mostly used for recording ideas as I'm practicing that I can revisit later, or building loops. controlled by foot switch C.

22. stereo volume pedal

can be used to completely cut off volume to amps, full volume, or anywhere in-between. for when I feel self conscious about bothering the neighbors. after this, stereo signal splits out to separate distortions and amps.

23. final end-chain distortion

23A takes the left channel from the stereo pedals, is a boss ds1 that goes to my vox amp. good classic distortion, had it for years.

23B toggles distortion channel on my fender amp, which is where the right channel from the stereo pedals goes.

I always turn these on or off together, big messy distortion after all the loops and delays for pure shoegaze wall of noise. love how the slightly different distortion sounds really emphasize the stereo field.

if you wanna hear it in action, listen to my sounds at

https://weepingwitch.bandcamp.com/

or

https://open.spotify.com/artist/3sU69CMxS64fB5ts48eeUw?si=pN_c8qyBTOGqTAsVFzkIWw

[bleepblopbloop56]

100 things to do under the stars

(Analogical, no warnings)

1: stargaze

  Virgil dragged Logan out from the warmth of the truck and into crisp fall air. They were in the middle of nowhere, it was nearly midnight, and the clouds were practically nonexistent. There wasn't a light for miles, aside from the still dimming headlights of Virgil's pickup truck. They had to be in someone's backyard or private property, but with a field so vast and expansive who would know to say anything. 

“Virgil-” Logan started before swiftly getting shushed by Virgil. He jerked open the door to the backseat, pulling out piles of blankets and pillows. 

  “Lo, i'm gonna need you to ignore how sketchy this looks and help me pad the bed of the truck, there's a meteor shower tonight and i want you to see it.” Virgil tossed him some handfuls of quilts and stuffed animals. It seemed as if he found every even remotely soft thing in his apartment and shoved it in the car. They passed the truck bed and Virgil hoisted him into the makeshift bed, before bracing the side of the truck and hoping for himself. 

 They stayed silent as they got comfortable, that was Logan's favorite part about their friendship, they could just exist around each other without any pressure to perform social cues like small talk.. They could just be. Logan reached down and intertwined their hands, making virgil's heart skip a beat. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, shifting closer to his friend “I needed this” Virgil swallowed roughly, laying his head closer to Logan’s as they watched the stars 

7: contemplate existence + 11: drink coffee

 “Do you think there's something else out there?” Virgil asked after a long stretch of comfortable silence. This time, they sat on the roof of the truck, coffee in hand and feet dangling off the edge of the truck. 

  “Be more specific.” Logan took a sip of his coffee, bringing it to his mouth with both hands. It provided a nice warmth against the chill of the night, something his black wool coat was vaguely failing to provide.

   “Life.. do you think we're alone here?” Logan wanted to say no with a definite certainty that Virgil was looking for, but that would be irresponsible to answer with a certainty he didn't have.��

   “Arthur Clarke once said ‘Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.’” he settled on instead. Virgil grimaced and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged and turned his body to face Logan. He tried to make eye contact with him, but Logan continued to look up into the abyss.

  “That's not what I asked,” he said “I wanna know what you think.” Logan took another slow sip of his coffee to stall. Eventually, he brought it away from his mouth and turned to face Virgil

   “I dont know..” he admitted “it seems.. impossible that there's an infinite universe beyond our capability of comprehension that is simply empty. I don't believe there will ever be certainty on our end, so,” he put the coffee down and laid down, putting his eyes back on the stars “i'd rather not worry about it.”

32: question your own mortality *

   “What do you suppose the point of it all is Virgil?”  he had become rather acquainted with the empty field he and Virgil spent nearly every clear night in. They hadn't even got out of the car this time before Logan started their nightly talks.

   “I thought it scared you to talk about things like that.” Virgil jokes to mask that he didn't have an answer. He jerked open the door but didn't get out. 

    “Do… Do you ever question why we're here?” Logan knew the answer to that, and Virgil constantly thought about his life and his purposeless existence. Virgil took pity on him when he noticed his big brown eyes sparkling in the light the car turned on. So mundane, and yet Virgil had seemed to romanticize the smallest things around Logan.

    “Get out, I wanna show you something,” Logan followed wordlessly. “I think..” Virgil continued, once they were out of the truck and on top of it “that it's different for everyone. For me, I just want to spend my short existence here experiencing life for what it is. Good and the bad, mostly good.” Virgil smiled softly as he laid down on the roof “ look at that… all the stars feel so close i could touch and yet impossibly far away. I can't see a horizon from here, it feels like I'm in the middle of all of them, here with you.”

    Logan laid on his side beside him, still not fully getting it. “You think you were put into existence to look at stars?”

    Virgil hoisted himself up on his elbows, craning his head back to continue looking at the abyss. “I think that's what i'm choosing to do with my existence, what are you choosing to do with yours?” Logan stayed quiet for a long time, just looking at Virgil and thinking before he jutted his head forward and kissed him. Virgil pulled back, heart beating  a million miles a minute. 

“Logan?” he whispered.

“If we get to choose what we do with our lives then i wanna spend mine like this, with you, and i've wasted too much time thinking.” he almost had tears in his eyes as he leaned forward again, letting Virgil close the gap this time. 

* (+ 53: have your first kiss) 

65: and your second

72: and third

83: and many many more

99: propose

    They continued going to their favorite spot for years, when they got older they bought the plot of land that they called theres and built a tiny cabin on the edge of the field. And one night, after 5 years of dating, virgil pulled logan into the middle of the field, walking this time. Fireflies and the moon are their only real source of light so far out in the field. 

Logan giggled as he attempted to keep balance while Virgil swung him around 

“What's got you in such a good mood?” Logan laughed, getting pulled into a nervous kiss by his boyfriend 

    “Virgil!” he smiled a little wider, “what's the occasion?”

   “Look up, and name all the constellations you can see,” Virgil asked quietly, hands fisted in his jacket pockets. Logan looked suspicious before doing as he was told, listing all he could remember the name of. Just as he was getting to the end of his list, Virgil cut him off. 

“Hey Logan?” When he looked back, Virgil was kneeling on the ground with a small navy blue box in his hands. “Can I ask you something?” 

Logan did not consider himself overly emotional, he nearly prided himself on it, and yet he couldn't seem to stop the hitch in his breath and rush of tears to his eyes. He wordlessly nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

    Virgil opened the box and revealed a ring with a simple diamond in the middle of a black band with stars engraved into the side. He stayed silent as the tears started cascading down his face. “Do you remember when you said you wanted to spend your life with me under the stars?” Logan  had to pull his hands to his mouth to contain the sob of happiness he couldn't. Virgil was also crying, a wide nervous grin on his face “will you make that official with me?” 

    “Yes!” Logan choked out, nodding profusely and collapsing into Virgil's arms when he stood up to hug him. He pulled back and kissed him, he kissed him for the millionth time with all the passion and love of the first. He pressed his forehead into Virgils, having to bend a little to accommodate for the height difference. 

“I love you” he mumbled, tears starting to end their freefall, even if only for a minute. “So so much”

100: get married.

    Roman bustled around their small cabin with the kind of nervousness more reserved for the grooms than the best man. He had been preparing this day- well, night- for months and had been more of a bridezilla than either of the actual men getting married. Guests were starting to arrive just after the sun went down and the stars were starting to peek through the darkness. Fairy lights shone just enough to allow the guests to find their seats without hassle, but not too much as to outshine the stars. 

    “Are you sure everythings ready?” Roman asked Logan once again, meeting a hard eye roll with an exacerbated grin. 

    “Yes Roman, I'm positive.” He couldn't help the feeling of joy riding in his throat when he checked his watch. He was getting married… to the most beautiful man on earth, under the stars, in his own backyard with all his friends… holy shit

    “Logan!” Patton called from the doorway, excited to be helping even if he'd been there since noon “its time! Come on “ 

    Virgil was…. He couldn't think of the right word.. Gorgeous, ethereal, amazing, perfect, genius, beautiful, unreal, indescribable… Logan felt in his heart as he was walked down the aisle by the designated group dad friend. He wore a velvet deep purple suit with black trims and converse sneakers, hair freshly dyed from a week before, and on top of his head sat a small crown with diamond stars. As much as he despised wedding traditions, this was his “something borrowed” generously lended by Roman to tie in the night theme. The wedding was small, neither of their families even invited to attend, and their friend group tiny but close knit. Patton bounced down the aisle with Virgil's arm intertwined in his, Logan didn't think the concept of “handing off the “bride ``'' was appropriate here, but neither of them could deny Patton's puppy dog eyes. 

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, dancing, kissing, crying, a small potluck with a modest red velvet wedding cake, and in the center of it all was stars. The decorations, the rings, the vows and the night sky, all of it was perfect. When all the guests left, and Virgil and Logan were finally alone, Logan pulled out a wedding present he had gotten for virgil. 

“What's this?” he asked, still riding the high of “Holy shit i'm really married” 

“Open it.” virgil undid the navy wrapping paper, and opened the box. Inside, there was a book titled “100 things to do under the stars, by Logan Cade” 

Virgils heart jumped when he realised logan had used his new last name.  

[moon-forest-princess]

The Moon as a healing gift; Not a deity

NOTE: This is my own personal belief based on my own spiritual understanding of the Bible and the world and what I believe to be true. I am no biblical scholar, nor a general religion scholar. I am simply a Christian and Elven soul, so these conclusions were just made by my own prayer, thought, and study. You don’t have to agree, I’m just sharing my thoughts... which is why this is so haphazardly written lol

I identify as a Lunar Elven soul. Because of this, I naturally feel a lot of affection and love for the moon. She is my favorite celestial body. She is the one who makes me look up and smile. She makes me feel something I can’t explain. I feel most myself when I see her softly staring back at me among the stars and clouds. 

But I only call her ‘her’... for fun, because I like to personify the moon. The closest earthly version of my ‘kin’ are the Kaldorei from WoW, who worship the moon goddess Elune and I love that concept. I have a moon goddess character I’ve created for the fantasy world I have built as well. 

But outside of these things? I do not see the moon as a deity itself. I do believe that the moon is a representation of feminine energy. I also believe that its energy deals with things like intuition and insight. 

But as expressed in one of my other too-long writings, when it comes to spiritual guidance and worship, I am lead by the question of “Why try to seek guidance from creation (the stars, celestial bodies, energies, the earth, etc) when one can simply just talk to the Creator Himself?”  Naturally, if one does not believe in a singular universe creator, this would be null and void as a point, but for me, this is the very crux of my stance as a Christian elf.

We are warned about this in Deuteronomy 4:19:

“And take heed, lest you lift your eyes to heaven, and when you see the sun, the moon, and the stars, all the host of heaven, you feel driven to worship them and serve them, which the Lord your God has given to all the peoples under the whole heaven as a heritage.”

Or in more familiar/modern terms: 

“When you look up to the sky and see the sun, the moon and the stars—all the heavenly array—do not be enticed into bowing down to them.”

And I take this warning seriously. I refuse to turn to idol worship of the moon itself, adopt another culture’s moon deity, or deify it myself as a being. The moon did not die for me and cannot build a personal relationship with me or provide for me a comforter and present help in a time of trouble. It is a creation, not Creator. I believe it is alive with energies the same way you, or I, animals, and plants are alive, and is holy as a creation, but not a/the source of Holiness or Divinity.

But I do believe that the moon is an important tool and gift to us. That verse says that God gave us the moon as a heritage. Heritage is “a special or individual possession; an allotted portion”. The obvious heritage being that it is the natural night light we all can enjoy the beauty of as people born here on this Earth. But taking it further, I believe that the moon is meant to serve many purposes spiritually. 

🌙For one, it serves as a reminder that we are reflections of God. If we are to see ourselves as the moon, and God as the sun (Jesus as the son/sun), we reflect the Light of the Sun. We are to be a Light and we were made in His image, and thus, we are meant to reflect the way Jesus acts, talks, and is. 

🌙Just like the moon sourcing its glow from the sun, our Light is not from us, but upon us. When I shine, the power and spiritual gifts and abilities do not come from me or my own power. They cannot. They come from God. I don’t believe we can cultivate any sort of spiritual gifts on our own, by our own power. Whether demonic or holy, positive or negative, I believe that these spiritual gifts have a source beyond our own being. Just as the moon shines form the sun’s glow (although negative gifts I wouldn’t exactly liken to coming from the ‘sun’ in this analogy, as they are dark and may often come from a false light).

🌙Each phase of the moon is a reminder of change, transition, and renewal. The sun remains the same throughout time and time again, but the moon appears different each night. Just as God remains the same, but people change. But we can never change who we are at our core. The moon is still the moon, whether crescent, waxing gibbous, or full. 

🌙The moon is a gift God bestowed upon us to give us light in the darkness. And that is what connects with me the deepest.  As a lunar elven soul, I have been always finding myself among the darkness. Not of it, but within it. Surrounded by it. Dark situations. Dark people. People battling with Darkness within and without them. I see the darkness in things. But within this darkness, it brings me joy to find ways to spread Light. Like the gentle beams of the moon spreading in the darkest corners of forest, I feel that that is the significance of my connection to it as a celestial body. 

This pouring of Light can help to bring others healing, but not by my own power or source. Rather, by the Light that was gifted to me. I take no credit for the healing that others may receive through my prayer work and fasting and Lightwork. I only take credit when obeying God when He guides me to do it. Even then, He has given me a mind to want to do so. 

Technically I consider myself a Healer in this sense, but truthfully, it’s more like God is the Doctor and I am only a nurse at the front desk, making sure you have the information you need, as instructed to me by the Doctor (okay the Doctor Who fangirl inside of me chuckled when I reread what I typed lolol). But He is the one who evaluates and operates. I simply help you through the hospital door. Get you talking. Advocate for you as bet I can.

As someone who is learning to navigate the gifts of Burden Bearing and Intercessory Prayer, I connect with the moon for these reasons. 

So, in conclusion.. TL;DR-- I believe in the healing and renewing energy of the moon and its light casted at night, as a reminder of being a Lightworker, a Child of God. It is not a god, but an extension of Him just as we are.

[aeondeug]

8 for the religious ask tag

8) What is your favourite passage from your sacred text, if you have one? -

It’s probably most definitely the Song of Amergin. I really love it and I was struck by it the first time I found it even in translation. And I was more struck when I heard it in the Old Irish it was composed in. It informs a lot of what I do regarding like the poetry mysticism thing. And it is what I strive towards. I look at Amergin standing at the head of his ship, declaring this truth to the world and tearing apart the spells of the gods, and I see what I would like to be as a poet. Someone who can say things so true that not even gods can stand against them. Here is a translation of it by John Carey: 108. As he set his right foot upon Ireland, Amairgen Glúngel son of Míl recited this poem: I am a wind in the sea (for depth) I am a sea-wave upon the land (for heaviness) I am the sound of the sea (for fearsomeness) I am a stag of seven combats (for strength) I am a hawk upon a cliff (for agility) I am a tear-drop of the sun (for purity) I am fair (i.e. there is no plant fairer than I) I am a boar for valour (for harshness) I am a salmon in a pool (for swiftness) I am a lake in a plain (for size) I am the excellence of arts (for beauty) I am a spear that wages battle with plunder. I am a god who forms subjects for a ruler Who explains the stones of the mountains? Who invokes the ages of the moon? Where lies the setting of the sun? Who bears cattle from the house of Tethra? Who are the cattle of Tethra who laugh? What man, what god forms weapons? Indeed, then; I invoked a satirist... a satirist of wind. As far as Buddhism...The Kalama Sutta as a whole remains probably my favorite of the texts. Even now when I am largely like “I DO NOT NEED TO BOW TO THE CANON” I am still very fond of it. This one bit of it in particular is lovely I feel. It has informed a lot of what my view of religion even is. It is also, incidentally, part of why I refuse to bow strictly to canon. This is translated by the Venerable Thanissaro Bhikkhu: "So, as I said, Kalamas: 'Don't go by reports, by legends, by traditions, by scripture, by logical conjecture, by inference, by analogies, by agreement through pondering views, by probability, or by the thought, "This contemplative is our teacher." When you know for yourselves that, "These qualities are unskillful; these qualities are blameworthy; these qualities are criticized by the wise; these qualities, when adopted & carried out, lead to harm & to suffering" — then you should abandon them.' Thus was it said. And in reference to this was it said. "Now, Kalamas, don't go by reports, by legends, by traditions, by scripture, by logical conjecture, by inference, by analogies, by agreement through pondering views, by probability, or by the thought, 'This contemplative is our teacher.' When you know for yourselves that, 'These qualities are skillful; these qualities are blameless; these qualities are praised by the wise; these qualities, when adopted & carried out, lead to welfare & to happiness' — then you should enter & remain in them.

[ferryboatpeak]

I need to know every single thought you have about this album please and thank you

ok ok ok ok ok i’ve finally somewhat organized my thoughts, thank you for your patience! remember when i rhapsodized about lights up and said that what i really wanted from this album was more of the expansiveness of that guitar intro? well, i feel like harry more than delivered. the whole album is so BIG. it just unfolds and unfolds in every direction. it has such a sense of possibility. i love it more than i can possibly say.

golden is my absolute fave. big and sun-drenched and joyous. jes and i did our first listen with our respective earbuds and as soon as the vocals kicked in my jaw dropped and i gaped at her in utter disbelief and delight. then at “i know that you’re scared because i’m so open” i started flailing all of my limbs to communicate that there was an emergency and the emergency was that i was dying of joy. jes missed all of this because she was serenely listening with her eyes closed at the other end of the couch. i admire her composure in the face of the transcendent perfection that is golden.

watermelon sugar and adore you have been such growers for me, i love them more and more every time i listen to them. i love that harry took some mushrooms in cali and wrote a bunch of sad/whimsical/trippy songs, and then he went to england to knock out a few crowd pleasers to finish the album. lights up still makes me so happy, and i’m only sorry that the live version makes the SHINE! bits kind of quiet and climbing instead of allowing me to ecstatically scream SHINE! at harry styles the way i want to. maybe we can fix this over the course of tour.

jes opened her eyes briefly after falling so we could exchange pleading looks that (on my end at least) communicated HELP how is this song SO GOOD and ANGUISHED and HEARTFELT and PAINFUL and OMG THAT FIRST HIGH NOTE and WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ALL THIS LOVE IN MY HEART FOR HARRY STYLES????? it absolutely blew me away on first listen, and it continues to do so, but it’s also one of the most accessible songs on the album and so it’s not in the top tier for me. like, other people are going to sing falling. it’s a sad ballad that a broad spectrum of people are going to be interested in listening to. but i like harry better when he’s a little bit of a weirdo.

…so, that’s why to be so lonely is also one of my faves. i love the contrast between the acceptance of responsibility in falling (“no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands”) and the petulance of to be so lonely (“you can’t blame me, darling”). this is the song i’m going to think of when I listen to the zane lowe interview for the one millionth time and harry says “you get petty.” it’s about indulging the worst of yourself during a breakup because you deserve it, goddammit. he’s not one bit sorry about being an arrogant son of a bitch and I LOVE IT. oh also why are we not talking about harry singing “i was just a little boy”?

oh did I skip cherry? i like cherry a lot (and i fucking loved it live) but i prefer the middle two installments of the side B wallowing. i do like the emotional specificity of “I can tell that you are at your best/I’m selfish so I’m hating it.” also real pleased with the taylor-esque burn in the reference to “his parent’s gallery”!

onward to side C! she is to hs2 what woman was to hs1, and i know i’m not the first to make that comparison, but the analogy works for me because both of them i was indifferent to on the album but boy i love them live. i’m so glad i got to see this album live right away so i didn’t waste four months being indifferent to the generically beatles sound of the first half of she when i could have been focusing on what’s really important: mitch earnestly and wholeheartedly confessing his love to harry via the medium of a sick guitar solo.

SUNFLOWER! god i love sunflower, my second favorite after golden. it’s quirky and sweet and just a little bit dark and of all the circus/celestial/alien sounds that pervade the album, this is my favorite permutation of them. (i love this recurring theme btw, that may be another post.) oh also there’s a whole other post about how hs1 had melodic echoes, e.g. the line that repeated from sott to only angel, but hs2 has lyrical echoes from song to song… brown skin, a gallery, picking up the kids from school, the import of calling someone “baby.” i don’t think it’s lazy or a failure of imagination; i think there’s a purpose behind each of the repeats. anyway the dueling gallery images from cherry and sunflower are one of my favorite occurrences of this trick.

i also really freaking love tpwk, first and foremost because it is EMPHATICALLY NOT A PREACHY SONG, instead it weirdly and wonderfully grounds itself in harry’s own body (“maybe we can find a place to feel good”) instead of purporting to give anyone advice about how to live. there’s whole other post in what this album has to say about harry’s body and its relationship to other bodies, starting with the lights up video and continuing with the imagery about “spreading you open” and so on through “feeling good in my skin.” i concede that all of the godspell comparisons about this song are 100 percent accurate but hey, i was a theater kid who will gladly belt out “preeeeeeeeeepare ye the way of the lord!” at the slightest provocation so i’m fucking into it.

oh I missed canyon moon! it is fine, i like it, it is a good song. like falling does, it suffers a bit in my ranking because it is a very accessible song.

ok ok ok ok now we’re at fine line and i’m not going to be able to put into words how the end makes me feel, starting when the horns come in. (oh did i mention how much i love the horns throughout the album? this and the lead-in to the watermelon sugar chorus especially.) it has all of the expansiveness i wanted, all of the hope, all of the triumph, all of the earned growth, all of the promise. this is the part where i cried (not during falling). sometimes i cut this song off partway because i can’t handle going through the emotions of the end.

in conclusion, there is not a clinker in the bunch and i am SO PROUD and SO HAPPY. also (1) golden (2) sunflower vol. 6 (3) watermelon sugar (4) adore you (5) lights up (6) to be so lonely (7) fine line (8) falling (9) tpwk (10) canyon moon (11) cherry (12) she.

[moonlightmadnessreviews]

Midsommar (2019): Bleakness in Broad Daylight

As I left the theater after my viewing of Midsommar, one thought rang clearly through my mind: “I NEED to discuss what I’ve just watched!” 2018’s Hereditary effected me much in the same way and, though the movies are at times visual opposites, Aster has solidified his filmic vocabulary. Produced by A24, Midsommar sees Aster once again tackling issues of grief, denial and one character’s journey to fulfill their destiny.

Both written and directed by Ari Aster, Midsommar begins with a mural. Upon this first watch (and considering my brain was scrambling to keep up with my eyes as they did their best to take in every detail), it seems the mural depicted the change of seasons. This is a theme the movie plays with throughout its nearly 2 hour run time. The mural opens like the curtain on a grand stage and invites us into a cold, snowy landscape. An ethereal chanting plays over jump cut after jump cut. Frame after frame of this vast cold land. Then suddenly, as if startled out of a dream, we jump from snowy treetops to a suburban aerial view that zooms in deeper and deeper to the tempo of a phone desperately ringing.

We are introduced to Dani, played by Florence Pugh, as she attempts to reach her parents after receiving an ominous e-mail from her sister. After leaving her voicemail, Dani places a phone call to her boyfriend Christian, played by Jack Reynor, who is with a group of friends when Dani calls. The friends are rounded out by Josh (William Jackson Harper), Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) and finally, Mark (Will Poulter and his friggin’ eyebrows, don’t even get me started). We learn that Christian feels he should breakup with Dani, this current freak out over her inability to reach her parents and her bi-polar sister’s erratic behavior being the latest in what is apparently a long line of freak outs. He receives yet another call from Dani and what follows is just the first of Midsommar’s shocking and brutally bleak scenes.

I won’t get into spoilers for this scene (“Haunting in its realism.” is as much as I’ll give you) but it does bring me to what I find incredibly interesting about Aster’s direction. The director has managed to set quite firmly his filmic vocabulary via one device in particular and one which has become a favorite topic of discussion of mine: the Ari Aster Cry. Last year’s Hereditary gave us one of the most brutal, realistic and certainly uncomfortable depictions of grief through Toni Collette’s cries before, during, and even after her daughter’s funeral. A round of applause is certainly in order for Collette’s performance, but I also feel Aster has a way of bringing these cries out of his actresses, capturing them in long, uninterrupted takes. Pugh gives an equally inspired, incredibly pained, and mournful cry after the aforementioned events. Your skin crawls as screams, cries, and an assortment of other guttural noises leave her body.

When I saw Hereditary, a couple left during the post-funeral cry scene, and I half expected to see at least one couple bail out at this point as well. Alas, I suppose I was accompanied by a more courageous audience this time. What I love is how Aster sticks our faces deep inside a character’s grief and refuses us any respite, not unlike a heavy handed owner shoving his dog’s face in its own mess, forcing us to deal with how uncomfortable we are with hearing someone express genuine pain and suffering. And so, we are ushered along by our title card, reminding us we’ve merely been given a glimpse of what we’re in for.

Cinematography is provided by Pawel Pogorzelski, and his contributions are critical in helping us feel fully immersed in the beautiful, albeit frightening world that Midsommar paints. We follow Dani, Christian and his friends to Sweden for a Midsommar festival Pelle has invited everyone to. We learn he grew up in a commune where old Scandinavian rituals are still being followed. Landscapes are shot in such a way that they seem inviting, yet so vast that one can not help but feel isolated. As the festival and many of its ceremonies take place in open fields washed in bright and direct sunlight, it is as if the film makers are forcing our eyes open, ensuring we can not look away from any of the horrifying events. I love the way Aster moves the camera through a room, much like we are looking in on a stage play. He takes a similar approach in these open fields and though free of walls, he often frames characters with the commune’s bunk houses and shacks, helping to give our eyes those familiar points of reference.

Through Dani’s character, the movie explores themes of control and free will, or lack there of. We see her taking medication for either depression or anxiety. Often times she is offered hallucinogens and accepts merely out of a sense of obligation. I hesitate to call it peer pressure, because she accepts from a position of someone who doesn’t want to be a downer or a party pooper. She has relinquished control not only of her mind, but in her relationship with Christian, and her through her reluctance to deal with past traumas, handing herself over to them. Aster further explores Dani’s state of mind through camera work and the various jump cuts through out the movie which often see Dani being transported from place to place as if she has lost time and has snapped back into the present.

After a shot of the clouds outside Dani’s airplane window during their flight to Sweden, the camera begins to shake as if being jostled by turbulence, though it is more likely a view into Dani’s emotional state. Upon arriving to Pelle’s commune, the camera performs a beautiful rolling move, sweeping over the friends’ car and swapping the sky for the road to show us the name of the commune upside down, before planting us back on our feet. It’s a perfect analogy for how disoriented our characters are for much of the film’s runtime.

When dealing with gore, the movie once again forces us to witness horrific events in broad daylight. We bear witness to a ceremonial ättestupa (if you already know what that is, you’ll be amused by Josh’s reaction) in a stark, stone valley surrounded by lime. It seems to wash out and intentionally overexpose the scene to ratchet up the shock of blood, bone and gore. The camera hangs on these moments at times a beat too long, as if playing chicken with the viewer. ��Will I cut to another scene, or will you cover your eyes? Are you enjoying the sound of this character fighting for breath after being bludgeoned, or are you dying to cover your ears and run from it?”

As vibrant and visually stunning as the movie is, it is certainly a slow burn. Much like the music provided by The Haxan Cloak, the movie can drone on at times, yet the notes it pedals to throughout help to keep it from losing its audience. Thankfully, Aster does not fill these droning moments with dumps of exposition, helping to keep the commune shrouded in mystery til the very last note. There are a few musical motifs that are stated throughout the movie, much like the visual clues set up in the first act which hint at the fate of each character and payoff in the final act, culminating in the crescendo that is the May Queen ceremony.

The movie ends with Dani making a monumentally important decision. After being broken down in the commune, forced time and time again to leave her comfort zone and put in incredibly uncomfortable positions, some viewers may see the ending as Dani just giving in and accepting once again a lack of control.

After having had time to think on the ending for the last day or so, I stick with my original take on the ending. We see Dani accept a new found power brought out of her at the exact moment she stops denying what has been in front of her the whole time: her grief, her failing relationship with Christian, and the fate of her friends. She purged herself of those demons through the iconic Ari Aster Cry and takes on the role of May Queen (not so much a spoiler as it is hinted that Pelle has chosen her for this exact role through out the movie), wearing a crown of breathing flowers and an oversized dress that is a bouquet onto itself. The tension built through the movie stands at one end, while Dani’s character arc builds from an opposite point, finally meeting in the middle high above their respective bases to form a pyramid which mirrors the sacred temple our protagonist stands before in the film’s final moments.

Midsommar is another masterpiece from the mind of Ari Aster. Though the film pairs nicely with Hereditary, it’s warm tones standing in contrast to the latter’s cold overcast, the film manages to stand firmly on its own. Another example of Aster’s exploration of grief, destiny and our longing for control, it also plays at our base need to feel as though we are part of a greater entity. As societal beings, we search for a home, a family, and at times though it seems impossible to fit in, we are shocked to find the strength we are looking for lies deep within ourself, like the sun on a midsummer’s day.

Rating: 5 Full Moons out of 5 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

[joygaytrash]

The Best Night(Painter AU)

Word Count: 1727

Notes: @rose-gold-roman Hey!! Logan!! I finished it!! Okay, okay, long story short, Logan and I have a painter au and there’s Remile, Analogical, and Royality in it!! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy~

That night was the best night of all their lives. The three couples had tied the knot once and for all. Logan and Virgil in the morning, Remy and Emile in the afternoon, and Roman and Patton at night. Now, here they were at their reception, surrounded by their friends, family, and co-workers.

Roman was the one who came up with the idea that they should have their wedding on the same day. At first, he wanted the three weddings at the same time that day but after some discussion with the two other couples and his fiance, he finally agreed that the weddings should be at different times that day.

Virgil had dibs the morning slot for his and Logan's wedding so then he could get some extra sleep after his wedding and before Remy's and Emile's wedding. Roman and Patton had claimed the night slot for their wedding because Patton had always wanted to have a wedding with the sunset in the background and Roman couldn't say no to him. So, that left the afternoon slot for Remy's and Emile's wedding but they didn't mind.

"See? I told you combining our weddings was a good idea," Roman bragged. Patton giggled next to him, resting a hand on Roman's arm.

"Well, I will admit, it was a pretty good idea," Logan stated before taking a drink of his wine with a small smirk. Remy bit back a laugh, his obvious smile on his face. Roman only rolled his eyes at them, his smile still evident.

"Roman, your husband is an actual god," Virgil said as he walked back to the table with Emile, "I mean, that cake looks fucking fantastic."

"First off, language. Second off, thank you, Virgil!" Patton exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and giving Virgil a big hug. Virgil laughed, returning Patton's hug. Emile giggled, standing next to Remy's chair.

"Speaking of cake, let's go get a piece. We can do that thing where they shove the cake into each other's mouth," Roman suggested, standing up from his chair.

"Yeah!" Patton cheered, letting go of Virgil and took Roman's hand, pulling him towards the cake. Roman laughed, following his husband to the buffet table. Remy and Emile ran after Roman and Patton. Well, Remy ran after them, he was carrying Emile in his arms bridal style.

"Come on, you nerd, let's get some cake," Virgil said, pulling Logan out of his chair and towards the cake. Logan couldn't help but laugh, following his new husband to the table.

The six of them had gathered around the 6 layered came with the wedding guests gathered behind them. Each layer of the cake was based off each person; Logan's and Virgil's layers were on the top, Remy's and Emile's layers were in the middle, and Roman's and Patton's layers were on the bottom(Virgil may or may not have made a joke about Roman being an actual bottom). Each one of them took a turn cutting a slice, taking it from their husbands' layer.

The second Virgil had a slice of Logan's cake in his hands, he shoved it into Logan's mouth, nearly toppling the man over. After the logical man recovered, he shoved Virgil's cake slice into his mouth, actually making Virgil fall to the ground.

Laughter ripped through the three couples and the wedding guests. The flash of the camera was clear as Thomas captured the event in progress.

"Oh my god, these guys are such gay disasters," Dee commented, resting his elbow on Thomas' shoulder.

Thomas rolled his eyes, looking over at him. "Like you're any better, Dee. You literally stopped functioning last week because of that one barista winked at you," Thomas pointed out, smirking a little.

Dee blushed, puffing out his cheeks a little. "Says the guy who couldn't form proper sentences one time at the store because the cashier was, and I quote, too cute for you to handle," Dee shot back, causing Thomas to glare at him. Dee only smiled innocently at Thomas, but at the same time, stared daggers right into his soul.

"Well, if you excuse me, I'm going to hand out my business cards," Dee stated, disappearing into the crowd. Thomas rolled his eyes just as Roman ran up to him.

"Hey, gimme my camera for a bit! I wanna get some close up pictures!" Roman exclaimed, smiling at his little brother. Thomas chuckled, handing the camera to Roman.

"Here, now go have fun, Ro," Thomas said. Roman laughed and nodded before running back up to the center, his camera hanging from his neck. Thomas couldn't help but smile as he watched Roman have the best time of his life.

***

Dee sighed, leaning up against the wall at the back of the reception hall. He watched the three couples and the other guests yell and cheer. Known fact about Dee; He wasn't one for big events like weddings. But he could stand them if he was familiar with everyone, which he was, in this case.

He sighed again, taking a drink of his water when he heard a young voice.

"How did you get those pretty pictures on your arms?"

Dee looked down and saw a child, probably about 7 or 8, standing in front of him with other children around him.

"Well," Dee crouched down to the child's eye level, "I painted them on my arms myself," Dee explained. The group of children gasps before gathering around Dee and staring in awe at his arms. He chuckled, holding his arms out so they could get a better look at them.

One of the children swiped their hand over one of Dee's tattoos then frowned a little. "How did you keep the paint on your arms? Every time I paint on my arms, the paint comes off," The child asked, looking at Dee.

"Because I used magic paint," He replied. The group of children gasped again and Dee laughed.

"Does that mean you're a fairy?" Another child asked.

"That depends. None of you swear to tell, correct?"

A unison of "correct" came from the group of children and Dee nodded.

"Yes, I am a fairy and I've been sent here to share the beauty of art," Dee stated, smiling down at the children. The group squealed before practically tackling Dee into a hug. Dee laughed as the children laughed, not minding whatever eyes stared at them.

About 10 minutes later, the children's parents called them away and the children whined. Dee had told them they should go with their parents so then one day, he can paint their skin. The children nodded, said goodbye to him before running towards their parents.

"Holy fuck you're great with kids,"

Dee whipped his head around to see Remy standing there, two drinks in hand. He only chuckled, standing up from his crouching position. "I'm not good with kids, they just love the ink. There's a difference," Dee stated.

"I dunno, gurl, it looked like you were having fun too," Remy said, walking over to Dee. Dee scuffed, rolling his eyes at the artist.

"I wasn't having fun, you jackass. I was just keeping the kids distracted, that's all," Dee lied.

"Suuure, gurl, sure. Now, get rid of that plain ass water and have a real drink," Remy responded, shoving one of the drinks in his hand into Dee's hand.

"Thanks," Dee said, taking a drink of the alcohol.

"No problem, gurl,"

***

The reception was starting to die down. Wedding guests were leaving, families were saying one last goodbye before going back home across the country, and Virgil was collecting whatever decent trash was left on the tables, with Logan's help.

"Listen Lo, this will definitely come in handy for a new project, trust me," Virgil argued, smiling like an idiot to his new husband.

Logan followed Virgil to each table with a bin in hand, rolling his eyes a bit. "My moon, you say that with everything else you find and then it ends up collecting dust in our basement," Logan stated. Virgil turned to look at him, pouting slightly.

"But my suuuun, I mean it this time, I promise!" Virgil whined, pouting a little as he wrapped his arms around Logan's neck.

"Okay, fine, we can bring them home,"

"Thanks, my sun. I love you,"

"I love you too, my moon,"

Virgil and Logan shared a small kiss that got interrupted by Roman.

"Hey! That's gross," Roman shouted from across the room. Virgil pulled away and glared at Roman, flipping him off. Logan was quick to put Virgil's middle finger down, gently pushing his towards the table.

"Really Ro, what that necessary?" Patton asked, resting his hand on Roman's shoulder.

"Yes, Patton. Yes, it was," Roman replied, smiling like an idiot. Patton rolled his eyes a little and kissed Roman, humming softly. Roman kissed back, smiling even more like an idiot.

"Hey Roman, that's gross!" Remy mocked as Emile, Dee, and Thomas broke out in laughter next to him. Patton pulled away to join them, his fits of giggles flowing past his lips.

"Wow, I cannot believe that my own husband betrayed me, I think I'm gonna faint," Roman dramatically exclaimed, leaning onto Patton's shoulder with a hand over his own heart. Patton giggled more as he tried to keep Roman from falling.

Minutes later, Virgil and Logan joined the others at the table, setting the bin of trash(or as Virgil called it, art materials) on the floor.

"Well, since we have one more bottle of champagne," Dee grabbed the full bottle from the middle of the table, "Let's celebrate with one last drink before you six venture off tonight for your honeymoons," Dee suggested, being met with whoops and cheers.

Dee laughed and popped the cork off the bottle, sending it somewhere across the reception hall. Laughter broke through the table as Dee filled everyone's glass before sitting down.

"To the newly weds, who start a new journey as husband and husband and to the single pringles, well, better luck next year," Thomas said as he raised his glass. More laughter erupted as everyone else raised their glasses, clinking them against one another. The eight of them spent the rest of their time laughing and joking, sharing their favorite memories of each other, and just straight up hanging out and being friends but also family.

[virgilfingsanders]

3:38

TW: Death, Gore, mentions of getting stabbed.

Couple: Analogical

Prompt: Person B (Virgil) knowing they're going to die from blood lose thanks to the gaping wound they're bleeding from. They call Person A (Logan) and have a casual conversation, telling them they love them one last time, instead of calling for help.

~~~

To Virgil, there was something unGodly about the timeframe 2 to 4 am. There always had been, starting when he was a teenage who stayed up to late on Tumblr and Instagram, and, he assumed, their always would be. Now 26, Virgil had an valid reason to be up from 2 to 4 am: Plan B, the high end night club in the middle of the city, wasn't going to run itself, and Virgil would hardly let all his hard work be for nothing, regardless of how anxious he is. Sure, owning a Club wasn't a 'Picture Perfect' job, but if Virgil didn't do it, then who would?

Certainly not people like his husband, Logan, who was a College Professor. Not that Virgil minded his husbands Job, but it often made it a struggle to spend any time together. Virgil needed to be at Plan B on the weekends, when Logan was off, and Logan left for the day around the time Virgil got home. But they had a way of making it work. Logan didn't have classes on Monday, and Virgil never worked Wednesday's, somehow making their less than ideal schedules work perfectly.

Maybe that's why Virgil had been so eager to get home. It was 3:38am on a Monday morning. The sooner he got home and crawled into bed, the longer he'd get to cuddle with Logan. Virgil had been so eager, in fact, that he didn't hear the man walk up behind him.

He didn't hear him pull out the knife. He didn't see a face in the darkness. All he saw was the stars above him, and the empty parking lot in the back of the club. Plan B closed at 2, and Virgil had been the one to lock up today. The only car in the parking lot was his own.

He could feel the blood running out of his stomach onto the parking lot, and realized he probably wouldn't live. Instead he'd bleed out on the cold cement of his own property, behind his own club. No one would even find him until Joan or Roman came in tomorrow, which probably wouldn't be until 6 or 7.

Virgil fished for his phone, pulling it out of his pocket. 3:39 blinked up at him, the box letters somehow calming. It didn't take long to unlock the phone - the password being his and Logan's wedding date - and to get to contacts. What did seem to take forever, though, was waiting for Logan to pick up.

"G'mornin' love. When'll you b'home?" Logan asked, slurring his words together in his half asleep state. In the flat Virgil and him rented, he was laying the king sized bed, eyes closed, and barely awake enough to answer the phone. He wasn't necessarily concerned at the moment, Virgil called at 4 am all the time when he had to stay at club overnight to deal with paperwork and didn't want Logan to worry.

"I can't be home until tomorrow, Starlight. Probably not until tomorrow evening, or even Tuesday," Virgil said, trying to apply pressure to the stab wound in his stomach, knowing very well that it wasn't doing anything. Instead, he mainly focused on the stars he could see, unable to make out constellations due to the light pollution of the city.

"Should I be worried that you're cheating on me with Roman?" Logan asked, his voice sounding a little more awake, but not much. He was still tired, and slightly upset. Logan knew, rationally, the Club that Virgil owned and operated would take a lot of time, but staying their for 2 nights? That seemed a bit excessive.

"No, no, you're the only one for me Starlight. I just - uh, I just got super backed up on paperwork. I'm trying to set up a new Club in the next city over, and, uh," Virgil spoke rapidly, hating lying but thinking it was better than the truth. "I just got a stupid 'mounta paperwork to do."

"Are you lying to me?" Logan asked, jokingly, as he rolled out bed and made his way to the kitchen. Virgil had a of stuttering and rushing his words when lying, but he also did that when nervous or excited or tired, and was, generally, very straightforward.

"Never, Starlight. D'you remember our first date?" Virgil asked, catching his breathe at the end and hitting the mute button just in time for a coughing fit. He was now coughing up blood, how perfect.

"O'course I do, darling. You took me stargazing. We drove an hour and a half away from the city just so there wouldn't be any light pollution and we could name the constellations. We talked about the multidimensional theory and you sang Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade while we danced," Logan whispered breathlessly, remembering that day when he was barely 17 years old. He made his way to the kitchen, making a single cup of coffee using the Keurig.

Virgil clicked the unmute button, laughing breathlessly into the phone as he remembered the amount of panicking he'd done over that night. He'd swapped his usual Panic! At The Disco shirt for a blood red button-up, but kept the black ripped skinny jeans he still wore to this day, and converse.

"My favorite death theory is still the stars," Virgil said, grinning slightly in his weakened state as he counted the stars he could see. Logans laugh carried through the phone, making Virgil's body automatically relax.

"You always were found of that one, even though it's highly illogical."

"Do you remember, 3 years later, when I asked you to marry me?" Virgil asked, keeping his eyes open, on the twinkling stars. If he closed them he may never open them again, and dying without seeing Logan one last time was not something he wanted.

"Yes, I do," Logan said, taking a long sip of his coffee before closing his eyes as he leaned against the Island in their kitchen, reimagining that night. "We drove out to the same spot, but instead of staying on the little hill to stargaze we walked around the surrounding forest until it got dark. You managed to recreate the night of our first date perfectly. Same meal, same constellations, you were even in the same outfit. At the end of the dance, you asked me to marry you, and I couldn't help but say yes."

A small smile slipped onto both of their faces as they thought about that night, noth going silent for a few minutes. It had been magical in every sense of the word. They'd ended up falling asleep on the hill and driving back in to the small apartment they'd shared in the morning, planning on giving their family the news within the week.

"D'you remember the little cabin?" Virgil asked, his voice slowly getting weaker. He could taste the blood on his teeth, which was making him sick, and it was getting harder to hold the phone to his ear ad he spoke.

"Of course," Logan said, the memory of the Log Cabin in the woods and the idea of spending a summer there coming back to him. "There was a little walking path to a long cabin with a wrap around porch. The cabin seemed in perfect condition other than the fact that there wasn't anyone there. I'd love to go and stay there. Investigate the forest of the surrounding area and watch the stars every night."

"You're birthday's next week, Starlight. We're going to spend a week in that cabin. I already cleared it with you're boss. The key to the cabin is hiding in the glovebox of my car right now," Virgil slurred his words together, the stars losing their dimness as the pain began to take over. Logan rolled his eyes at Virgs confession, the boy never could keep secrets, even for the sake of someone's birthday. "I've gotta go now, love. I'll be home tomorrow, Logan, I'll be home tomorrow."

"I love you, Virgil, don't overwork yourself," Logan said softly, finishing his cup of coffee and putting the mug into the sink.

"And I love you, Logan. More than the moon and sun and all the stars. You're my Starlight."

Logan smiled at the slurred words, assuming his husband was exhausted from a long day. In Logans mind, Virgil would fall asleep on the couch in his office, forgetting to charge his phone. He'd probably wake up, make a cup of coffee, forget to eat, and get started right away on paperwork, not even thinking to charge his phone until his lunch break, which would last 20 minutes at most. He'd come home around 6ish, complaining about office work, and would try, and fail, to sneakily wrap his arms around Logan while he was cooking dinner. With those thoughts in mind, Logan hung up and made his way back to bed, curling up in the warm covers and falling peacefully asleep.

Virgil pulled the phone away from his ear, barely making out a blurry '4:16 am' before his world went black. He smiled slightly, Logans voice in his head repeatedly saying 'I love you, Virgil'.

~~~

One titled 4:16 about Logan finding out about it and grieving? Maybe.