#i hate formatting

Modern vampire vs classical vampire

“How long have you been outside my door? Come in, or else you’ll frighten all my neighbors.”

“I couldn’t until you invited me. Such is the rule of vampirism my dear.”

a/n: this is heavily based on the taylor swift song. i am indeed a swiftie and i thought the song fit the vibe. (and castles crumbling but it makes me wanna scream and cry) def not excessively proofread. pls enjoy though i tried a different direction than typical songfics :) (also i might start using gifs more so the post isn't bald, gif isn't mine btw i use google image search o7)

summary: eddie's gf plays the prom venue with an original that makes him fall even more in love with her. (probably ooc but its cute so i'll die on my hill of soft content)

wc: 3.1k (woah)

hey, so OG chapter 4 will now be chapter 5 as the gremlins hijacked this chapter.

part one here   previous part here   ao3 here

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            Damian stared in quiet horror as he looked over Ladybug’s exploits after hacking into Paris’ servers. His sister—the one he took down with little effort—had been defending the city for a month before he appeared. From the video of “Stoneheart” he could tell she was given no training. And her partner was flirting with her! When he should be focusing on the mission!

             What gathered from further research was the following: his sister and her ‘partner’ were untrained. Their teammates were also untrained. A team of ten untrained teenagers—perhaps younger—were tasked with keeping a villainous coward from stealing their magic artifacts, and with stealing his in turn. A team lead by his sister. A very alone, scared girl from his one interaction with her. Smart (he saw now she knew how to save her own skin. Redirecting his attention was a good move at the time). She is smart and creative because if she isn’t, then her city and her will lose. Be under the control of some madman.

             He had to get there, and he doubted he could convince Jon to help him at the moment—why are kyptonians always fighting one another when you need the assistance of one?

             Father would stop him.

             The League was keeping Father in Gotham and he didn’t have individual access yet…

             He was stuck for the moment, and did not like it. Perhaps Grayson could prove useful? He’d ask once the man was done resting from patrol.

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             Cass was enjoying Paris. She spotted the possible sister at the bakery with her adoptive mother. They were happy. Cass likes that.

             Cass moved quickly through the crowd, managing to make it to the bakery.

             Marinette ran into her.

             “Ah! Sorry!” the girl managed to catch her things before they hit the ground.

             Cass waved her hands, indicating there was no harm or foul. The girl was no clumsy—Shifu Cheng was ill-informed. Those reflexes and her expression before indicated nothing but an intense focus on something else. On what, Cass wasn’t sure.

             Yet.

             For now, Cass took a seat in the bakery, smiling at the kind woman working the front. Sabine Cheng, the woman who raised the maybe-Bat.

             Cass began doing her own research, messaging Babs that she saw Soup Girl for a moment, and would be assessing her parents. She knew of cases in Gotham where things weren’t always right, and she wanted to be certain that this girl was safe, regardless of if she’s a Bat or not.

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             Tim decided to ignore Babs offer in the end. The possibility of owing Jason was low given both him and Cass are on the Case. Jason is good, don’t get him wrong, but the chances of Jason actually talking to the girl in a real conversation before the rest of them? As Red Hood?

             This is a calculated risk and the odd are in Tim’s favor. (Well, not in Jason's.)

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             Steph hummed as she went over the designer pool she was looking over. Shockingly low given its Paris—granted 200 girls is a lot to investigate… she didn’t give the others all the information she had though.

             According to Damian, she “posts a disgusting amount” which means she’s posting or tagged often. When she used some of Babs old filtering program with social media involved, it brought the candidates down to 30. She could go through thirty teenage designers social media and comb over who at least has some genes that are dominant from the Wayne side. Her natural hair had to be medium brunette at the lightest, so the natural blondes took out seven candidates right off the bat. While blue or green eyes would give them more priority on the list, eye color genes are weird. Weirdly, five of her candidates had attached earlobes, so she only had 18 left after that filter was put on… Bruce’s hair isn’t curly, so two girls with intensely curly natural hair were taken off the list. Bruce’s thin lips only knocked out two more candidates.

             That left Stephanie Brown with 14 designers in Paris to find and investigate in the right age range, because she doesn’t think Bruce started having sex at 15, unlike Tim who is allowing college kids into his ‘could be Bruce’s daughter’ mix.

             Stephanie is also going to need a plane ticket to meet these girls, and that means getting help from one of Wayne kids… Or stowing away on the private jet that she knows Tim can and will be using sometime today to do ground work himself.

             She’s cool stowing away—Babs is covering for her on principle since Tim wouldn’t take the deal. Steph was smart enough to relinquish one piece of blackmail in total in exchange for use of Babs filtering tech—she has more than that thanks to one Supergirl spilling a number of things Babs has done over the years. Has Stephanie mentioned she’s the only one of the Bats to listen to Oracle, Queen of Technology, in this bet? She is, and she is better for it.

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             Marinette managed to make it to the Agrests Mansion with little issue this time. Today she was going to one of the production lines with Gabriel to learn how to reset the machines and program them to follow any simple stitch pattern she wanted. It was good.

             She also noticed that during none of her times with Gabriel, was there a single akuma sighting. Not an attack—those never happened anywhere near their time together. It was an… interesting pattern. She was beginning to suspect that if Hawkmoth wasn’t Gabriel (he was akumatized, it can’t be him. Get that theory out of your head Marinette), then it had to be someone who worked for him, and high on the food chain.

             She made sure to memorize each of his ‘supervising managers’ and partners’ names. One of them had to be Hawkmoth. And Gabriel had to be someone that this Hawkmoth either really respected or really didn’t want handle re-scheduling with. Which would be all of them…

             She really wished she had more time to dig into their lives herself. For now, she had to trust Max and Markov to do the research… which reminded her, her name had been pinged on multiple searches in Gotham last night. From numerous devices. If the Bats were planning anything…

             Marinette gripped her purse a bit tighter. Her team has her back. She just doesn’t want them caught up in this mess too. She wishes that Aquaman never showed up. If he hadn’t, then the Bats wouldn’t be looking into her civilian life, the one they already knew about but only now deemed worthy of their attention.

             She wished they would just stop—she won’t look into the Great Detectives. She knows she’s not one of them. That she wouldn’t hack it in Gotham. But Damnit, in Paris? Her Territory—she does more than hack it. Sure, she may have blown herself up that one time, and yes, there is the timeline where as Princess Justice she may have sort of broke the world by forcing it to conform to that akumatized version of hers’ idea of Absolute Justice (apparently she was ruthless, made no exceptions and took out a third of the Justice League using Multimouse at the time on top of it all). Yes, she is not a perfect leader. Or hero. But Damnit, her (admittedly two) supervillians have been almost caught twice. Her re-akumatazation rate is much lower than any of the Justice League’s heroes’ normal villain or general crime recidivism rate by more than a little. By a lot. She’s not some Detective but she’s a damn good strategist, a champion at improvising and she and her team do work with the public and victims and reworked so much of Paris’ social culture to lower akuma-creating circumstances and keep the public emotionally healthy.

             She’s no detective.

             She’s a Guardian. That means caring about the details that shift the bigger pieces. That means adaption with what is there and creating what she needs. That means knowing her limits and getting help—to set an example and prove that not even her or Chat are an island. That even superheroes need help, need others and need to work together.

            She’s no detective. Detectives work alone.

            Her? She’s forged a team that (she hopes) could become the new Order of Gaurdians with her… some day. For now, they’re heroes with the same mission and different roles to play.

            Marinette just wishes that she could shut up this hunch since its been disproven. Her instincts on guilt and possible baddies aren’t the best—Adrien’s job is to sense what’s wrong and take them out. Hers is to make whatever is needed to help fix things, to push someone forward and help them grow. Her job to craft a better tomorrow today… and to do that, she lost the parts of her that picked up Danger. She can still find Caution signs (and her anxiety will always invent danger) but real Danger detection went to Adrien when she agreed to become Ladybug in the first place… And until both her and Adrien renounce their roles as the pair wielding the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses, she’ll always be missing it.

            The same way Adrien is missing his ability to think outside the box—seeing things as what they could become to help them went to her. He can only see potential threat and act on them. She can only see potential aide and act on that.

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            Jason grinned when he managed to make it into Paris. The second there was some damn akuma attack, he was grabbing the baby Bat and hunting Hawkmoth his way—she need the jewelry? Fine. She can have it. The guy brainwashing kids? The one that slaughtered the city? He’s Jason’s. ---------

            Bruce didn’t like being benched. He doesn’t like not knowing he had another child. He especially doesn’t like that this one is constantly preventing an apocalypse and his allies can’t be bothered to even send him anything about it. Not even a basic ‘she’s not living on the streets’ like Jason did. Or ‘she’s got parents here, calm down’ so he could get this stupid instinct to storm Paris and take on the bastard threatening his family that he didn’t know he had.

            Apparently Barbra has a hunch, but isn’t sharing until she has “conclusive evidence” of his daughter’s identity. Damian just isn’t speaking of it. As if being someone’s father biologically gives him a built-in alarm system for when he’s had a child and the ability to track them down at birth. Damian being raised in the League of Assassins should be enough proof to the contrary there.

            The others were… he wasn’t absolutely certain, but fairly certain his self-proclaimed ‘middle kid club’ were tracking his missing daughter down themselves. Possibly to claim her as part of their group, specifically.

            God, she was so young, It was before he even heard of the League that she was born. In that lifetime before becoming Batman. Would she like him? He was absent her whole life—did she want to meet him, meet the family? They’re a mess, he knows it. But they’re his—he chose them and they chose him. Would she chose him too?

            He watched another video of Ladybug in her early days, before she and her partner (dear god he’s cat-themed. Is it genetic? Should he test her and himself for some ‘drawn to dresses-as-a-cat’ gene?) were given any kind of training.

            She blew herself up to stop her city from being taken over by ‘Animan’ and his creatures.

            His daughter.

            Exploded.

            (She died. She died and he didn’t know. God he’s a horrible parent, and he hasn’t even parented her yet.)

            She died.

            To keep her city safe.

            She somehow reconstituted. But her face, in that video, she was shocked.

            His daughter should be dead but she’s not.

            Magic, he’s so glad his daughter uses magic.

            He. He’s going to need to consult someone. Raven? Raven should work. He can’t talk to the Justice League—nothing wrong with talking to the half-demon all of his Robins that lead the Titans has worked with.

            Loopholes.

            The Justice League is horrible at closing them.

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            Dick wanted to be mad when Damian came clean to him about the needles. He wanted to freak out over almost losing a sister he hasn’t met.

            He did.

            But.

            But this is Damian.

            Damian who still has trouble connecting. Who still flinches at certain tones of voice and phrasing. Damian who desperately wants to do Good but… struggles.

             Damian who has all of Bruce’s communication problems and then some.

             So no, Dick did not scream when he found out Damian only sparred “the blood daughter” because she looked too frail and weak for her to be considered anything resembling a threat to him. He did not sigh when he found out that Bruce didn’t know when Damian assumed he did. He did not hit himself when Damian discussed the various weapons he’d gifted her as a apology with the bouquets over the years and their meanings.

             He did take a deep breath, and begin explaining from this baby bat’s stance what had happened.

             “Imagine for a moment that it was me before I became Robin, and I was almost killed by someone who only let me live if I never contacted a shared parent or that parent’s known family. How do you think Pre-Robin me would have responded?”

             “You would have feared for your life and done whatever you could to prevent contact.”

             “Now, imagine I wasn’t told who to be avoiding, only aliases.”

             “You would avoid everyone with an alias that you did not help them create, and keep them from unknown aliases.”

             Dick snapped his fingers. “Exactly. That’s what this sister, what are we calling her?”

             “Her alias is Ladybug.”

             “Yes, that is what Ladybug was going through before Aquaman made contact.”

             Damian was quiet for a moment. “She must be on edge.”

             Dick nodded at that. “She probably is.”

             Damian furrowed his brow. “Do you think the League would allow me to contact her and end our agreement?”

             Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure, but we can try.”

             “… And if they refuse?”

             “Then we find another way. We’re Bats,” Dick reassured Damian. He just hoped the missing members weren’t doing anything too rash…    

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             Marinette made a (painful) decision. Adrien and her would swap miraculouses—at least until there were less pings on her sites from Gotham. For added protection, she kept the Mouse miraculous on. Chatte Noire was less known, and she doubted Wonder Woman or Aquaman informed Batman about the miraculous of Creation and Destruction’s particular… refusal to let anyone but a pair chosen together to wield them at any point.

             Chatte Noire would only be on call for a day or so… what’s the worst that can happen?

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the characters are jinxing themselves, and procrastinating the (vague) plot of Shenanigans. i swear. 

if anyone can message me on how to add in a read more, that’d be great since i know these can get long to scroll past for mobile users.

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Red Daughter | Linda Lee Additional Tags: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Lena Luthor needs some sleep, the roomba Kara AU, temporary memory loss Summary:

That’s when she sees Kara floating gently right outside her window. Lena has time to witness her fly face-first into the impact resistant glass the way disoriented birds sometimes do before darkness returns, dripping with rain.

“Kara?” Lena rubs at her eyes in disbelief, briefly wondering whether she’s still asleep, or perhaps hallucinating.

But, once she pulls the window open, Kara gently floats inside, followed by a spray of chilling rain.

“Kara, are you alright? Is something going on?”

OR

Analogical, 2800 words.

Mentions of knives, “killing” (character does not die as angels are immortal but they are discorporated), oc (if i can call oc a biblical character) Mentions of religion ( angels, demon, mentions of heaven and hell, female pronouns for god)

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I wrote a thing!!

it’s greatly inspired by @erstwhilesky-art ‘s drawing for @you-like-that-cool-i-do-too and by @stars-and-rose fic, golden eyes and angel wings!! They’re all amazing so go check them out

And obviously with the help of my friends Silvia (who doesn’t have a tumblr unfortunately, and @nesztid​ that were the first betas!

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So Virgil was anxious.

What a surprise, am i right?

The difference was that, this time, he had a God damn good reason to be. For Her Damned sake, was it too much to ask for one, one single night out with his boyfriend without the death threats?

Weren't it for the crushing fear, he'd be very pissed.

It's not like it had been his fault, anyway.

The Lord, that almighty Bitch of Hers, could have chosen literally anyone to become a Guardian, and she obviously had to pick the fucking demon.

Of course, there was also the fact that High Places still considered loving humans as bestiality but really, no one could ever blame him for that.

Take on look at Logan's starry eyes and dare tell him not to love him. Go on.

Which all brought back to the original problem: Virgil's anxiety did have a valid reason, and that reason was the angel hiding, oh so badly, behind the bar corner.

He couldn't get a damn break, uh.

«Star? Is everything alright?»

That managed to snap him out of his thoughts. Logan had taken his hands, looking at him while obviously trying his best to hide his concern.

He had always done that, ever since Virgil had snapped at him. And hated himself for it, really, but he couldn't risk him asking too much about his past.

«Um… Yeah, i just spaced out for a second, sorry.» He answered, already guilty for all the lies he had to say.

«Actually, do you mind if i take a couple seconds outside? I think i need a little bit of fresh air.»

«Of course, dear, take all the time you require.»

Concern hadn't left his eyes, but his voice was filled with so much love and patience and Holy shit Virgil wasn't going to survive this relationship.

If the angels didn't kill him, Logan was going to absolutely slaughter him with cuteness.

He exited the bar, standing around the entrance for a while before turning the corner.

In front of him there was nothing; at the very least, the kind of nothing you'd expect from a restaurant alley: a couple trash bags, an outrageous smell and a puddle of some liquid he didn't want to identify.

But Virgil wasn't an idiot. And as a person with an IQ greater than five, he knew that these kind of scenarios always hid something bad.

«Where are you this time?» He whispered through the air.

A mew made itself heard somewhere in the dark in front of him.

«What, your hiding in a damned cat now? Didn't think y'all'd get so low»

«You know, it is very funny.»

A loud, deep voice echoed from the shadows. Air and light seemed to bend together, completing an intricate puzzle of colours and textures. A man-shaped figured walked out of thin air, a gentle breeze flowing trough the the cold area.

Although nothing in particular depicted them as non human, nobody could've ever mistaken them for something else: there was something in their eyes, in their voice, that made them feel way more powerful than any mortal could, or should, ever be.

«It's funny,» they continued, «hearing you of all livings throw that word around. Damned.»

They walked around him, circling him way more dramatically than needed and probably making Roman very proud.

«Quite the irony. Don't you think so, Flight?»

Virgil backed up, death-glaring at them with all the force he had.

«What do you want, Michael?» He hissed, taking a fighting stance. He knew he would have no chances if they actually did fight, but acting confident usually worked.

«Came here just to annoy me again? Or will you have the balls to actually try something this time, so i can have an excuse to send you back to Her ass?»

Michael got mad. Of course they did, that was the whole point: them getting mad at Virgil meant they weren't going to hurt Logan, at least for another while.

Yet, Virgil couldn't help the crushing feeling of pure fear that washed over him every time he saw an angel's rage.

Michael had opened their wigs and True form, making the alley glow with their halo's light. All of their four, red eyes were glaring at him, both of their pair of wings swinging threateningly behind their back.

But all of this wasn't necessary: every particle in the air was radiating their emotions; the heat of their wrath like a physical, boiling mist pressing down Virgil's skin.

Maybe he had gone too far. This time he really got himself killed, discorporated in a fucking alley of all the places with no chance of going back. He didn't have an escape route, no possibilities of  actually defeating an angel in a fight. Let alone a fuming Archangel.

He didn't regret anything. If this meant keeping Logan safe, once and for all, he would sacrifice himself over and over again, as long as eternity lasted. Saying goodbye would've been nice, but-

«Virgil? What is going on?»  

-_-_-

Logan was… confused.

That was a relatively new emotion for him. He decided that he very not liked it.

The confusion came from Virgil. Logan loved him, and he knew he was fully reciprocated.

Yet, every time they were out, Virgil always seemed so…so, distant?

No, not distant, more nervous. Scared, maybe. He did not know why, or of what, but asking his boyfriend about his past had never gone well before, so Logan had decided to just give him the space he needed. He would've come around to explain in his own time.

Tonight was different.

It did not make any sense, really: it had been, by all means, a very common night. They had been hanging out at Roman and Patton's apartment, deciding to finish off the night with a couple of drinks before heading to their own.

Since they got alone, though, Logan had felt some kind of tension, prickling at his skin. A very uncomfortable sensation that had just now reached its peak.  

It wasn't just a prickling any more, it was a forceful push against him, a single irremovable desire to ''check on him, he's probably in danger'' that he never had before.

Besides, he knew very well that Virgil could defend himself.

He had accompanied him to far too many stress-filled trips to the gym, and remembered all of the impossibly strong fists that came with them.

There was also that one time a homophobic guy had tried to threaten Patton on the streets: he wasn't exactly sure of what had happened in that situation, but knew that it ended with the guy running away in fear, loudly begging not to be hurt.

Also, spying on your boyfriend, with the knowledge he probably just needs to pressure-stim for a while, would definitely be a shallow action.

On the other hand, he knew Virgil would never stop from doing something that he needed so badly. And just a quick check couldn't really hurt anyone.

Logan sat, undecided, for three long minutes.

Then he sprung up, paid for their drinks and left the shop in the span of a mere forty seconds.

He was worried, goddammit, and he was going to check on his damn boyfriend.

What e didn't expect, turning in the street, was to hear Vigil hissing.

He knew that hiss.

That was the '' I'm actually pretty scared but I'll cover it up with anger'' hiss, the one that was only reserved for the most critical hits in the most serious arguments.

The words that came with it were certainly a concern,  too. while he did not know who 'Michael' was, they probably didn't have very pacific intentions  if they made Virgil lash out like this.

On top of all of that, there was this extreme sense of… powerlessness, that grew along with his concern the further he got down the street.

«You little bitch.» He heard shouting, « How dares a filthy demon like you even mention-»

«Virgil? What is going on?»

Logan said, his fear for his boyfriend's safety greater than the one he had for the deep-voiced creature.

(because that thing wasn't human, he could bet all his three doctorates on it.)

Both of the not-people in front of him stopped in their tracks, confused looks taking over their faces.

Then the creature smiled.

And Logan knew he had fucked up.

-_-_-

Why, why did he have to get a smart fucking boyfriend.

An idiot jock wouldn't have investigated! He would've stayed, cute and compliant, right in his seat at the bar without the risk of having his guts ripped out.

He ran to him as fast as he could, trying to screen him from Michael's attacks as best as he could.

What he didn't really think trough was that, for him, ''blocking attacks'' usually also meant ''full form on.''

Mostly because he had never needed to protect anyone in his human form. Also, the wings gave him an easy escape route everywhere but on  heart, and spreading them could block way more hits than his arms could.

Great. He thought. Not only am i gonna die, when i actually get up there Chief is gonna have my ass.

He kept his gaze steady on Michael. He didn't want to see Logan's reaction: the horror in his gaze would've broken him, and right now Virgil's first priority was to keep him safe.

Maybe being discorporated wouldn't be so bad after all. He could survive Her madness, but Logan being disgusted at him? Not even in his worst nightmares.

He took a deep breath, putting on is most threatening face. The one that made Patton cry when he saw it for the first time. He needed all the 'scary points' he could get.

«Get your ass out of here, Michael. I really do not want to kill you today.»

«I will not let such a monster wander freely any more.»

«Since when does She allow you to call Her creations ''monsters''?

I thought She was pretty adamant about treating 'em right.»

-__-

Logan understood one thing and one thing only: he was dating an absolute idiotic person.

Why in the stars was he continuing to anger the already livid, ferocious beast in front of them?!

«SHE MADE A MISTAKE!!» The monster shouted, grabbing Virgil by the neck and taking him closer to his face.

«YOU ARE A MISTAKE! AND I CAN'T HAVE YOU KEEP LIVING UNDER MY WATCH!»

They started closing their hands around Virgil's throat, a maniac expression in their eyes, their breath hitching in an almost desperate way.

«Oh Michael, you fool.» Virgil whispered, slowly smiling.

«Has She never taught you anything? There's a lot of proverbs about this.»

He fidgeted with something in his pockets, taking it out.

«Hold your friends close,» a movement, « your enemies closer,» his smile grew, «And a demon far enough not to get stabbed.»

He marked those words with a knife, cutting straight trough Michael's heart.

There was no blood, no tears, no screams.

Just a frustrated grunt and a quiet, fluttering mist in the place where a monster once stood.

_—_

Logan was now extremely conflicted.

On one hand, he should be terrified.

Not only whatever that creature was spontaneously grew another pair of eyes and wings as big as the alley they stood in, but his boyfriend did as well. This would warrant, in any given person, a pretty conspicuous crisis, an existential breakdown and several tears.

On the other hand, Virgil had never looked as magnificent as he was now.

Look, he wasn't one to throw words around without meaning, okay? He didn't sway away from the truth, and he tried to only tell certified and objectively true facts.

So when he said that Virgil was resplendent,  in the overall absurdity of the situation, you could bet that he was right.

He looked up again: Virgil stood against the sun, carefully putting the knife in his jeans' pocket. A golden aura shined, down from his halo to the heavily feathered wings, purple mixing with pink and white in a deep contrast to the dark alley.  A tail swayed between his legs; it resembled in all the kind of tail you'd see on a cartoon demon: long and thick, with a sharp cone at the end. The only difference was the colours: the same purples as the wings instead of the usual red, reflective and iridescent in the golden glow.

He turned around, making eye contact with Logan. He was blushing and bubbling, probably trying very hard to make up some sort of explanation but Logan couldn't bring himself to listen.

He was too busy, drowning in  the depth of those mismatched eyes, the deep black sclera  shiny under the light,

surrounding the upside-down cross and spiral that had taken the place of the usual pupils.

The eyeshadow he always wore seemed to have filtered into his skin, growing to be more of a tattoo than normal make-up; it trailed down his cheek, stopping right behind the start of his neck.

Logan did not know what exactly his boyfriend was, not any more.

But dear Charles Newton, he was mesmerizing  to look at.

«This is  not as it looks, i swear, i can explain.»

The last whisper of Virgil's ramble finally snapped him out of his gay stare. He was staring at the ground, his wings curled up as to protect him from the world,sparkling in the late evening's light.

«I-» Logan found he had trouble forming a coherent sentence. He had never thought Roman was right when he complained about ''being too gay to think straight'' but now  that was the only explanation that sounded right.

«I do not think you have to explain anything.»

«I, I- You don't?» He was surprised. Logan himself was a little, too. He usually never was one to refuse knowledge but in this case…

«You're trembling, star.» Virgil froze.

«I have witnessed something that goes against every single one of my beliefs. You're quite obviously not as human as i thought, and i do not even want to imagine what that monster was.

Yet you're still greatly more disturbed than i am.

So no, i don't think you have to explain anything right now. Not if it anguishes you so much.»

Virgil's eyes widened, shock covering his features. For a second, he looked like he was about to cry.

Then,

«Lo are you a fucking idiot?»

«I am sorry, what?»

«I've just finished discorporating  an Archangel. I mean yeah they're the biggest mean bitch of Heaven but God damn it that's pretty damn close to a murder. I  murdered someone! Cold-blooded, while joking about it! If i weren't still alive you could bet whatever that they'd send me straight back to hell with a kick and a fuck you!»

His words were growing faster by the second, his voice distorting and duplicating over and over.

«I am a monster. A mixture of the two very things that should never mix, the horrible result of the sick games She wanted to play! Anyone with a bit of functioning brains would be at the very least disgusted, if not horrified, screaming or running or going away!

Why are you still here?»

Despite all of the distortions, the last sentence came out as a low, broken whisper.

He had gone closer to Logan, tears streaming down his face like rivers. His wings, tail and hands were storming, gesticulating maniacally and scratching with all the despair of a lost man.

Logan brought up his hand, gently caressing the other's cheeks and drying out his tears. A gentle, soft smile made its way onto his face when he spoke.

«I love you.»

«But-»

«Shh, let me finish.»

Their foreheads  connected, human eyes and not so human ones locking into each other. The rest of the world disappeared around them. The soft aura of warmth was being more than enough.

«I love you, as in i love you, not your appearance.

I love the way you smirk, how you always hide your laugh behind your hand despite it being the most wonderful sound i can ever hope to see. I love watching you paint or draw, the way you create worlds with every stroke and make everything come alive. I love how you always get heated in your arguments with Roman while always keeping it light and friendly. I love the stars that get in your eyes every time you see something you love, like that time i tried on Patton's space skirt.

I love you for what you are, and no inhuman traits will ever change my opinion.»

He chuckled.

«If anything, they make you even more beautiful. Like a God.»

«Don't say that, She'll get mad.»

Virgil was crying, now. Full crying, burying his face in Logan's shoulder as he hugged him as strong as he could.

He realized with a smile that his wings were doing the same.

And as his boyfriend stroked his hair, repeating a mantra of «this is fine, you'll be okay», Virgil found that for  one time, he really believed him.