Vengeance in Smoke

151 10 2
                                    

Not requested.

Ship(s): Platonic VirgilxDeceitxRemus, Platonic LAMP

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warning(s): Remus/Intrusive thoughts and everything that entails

Summary: Every year on the 4th of July, the Light Sides put on a fireworks display. Every year on the 4th of July, the Dark Sides try to handle the festivities.

(I've really been neglecting this book, sorry)

¶∆¶∆¶∆¶

Virgil yanks his curtains down with a soft growl, obscuring the view and plunging his room into darkness. A few glowing lamps maintain the light, so he isn't blind, but he still pauses for a moment to let his vision adjust.

"Much better," he mutters. Outside, the Light Sides laugh and talk animatedly, their voices muffled by the curtains. "Peppy bastards."

"Language," Deceit says in the corner. He's curled up on Virgil's couch, reading a book.

"Sorry. They're just so annoying, especially today."

"Though I agree, it's best if we try not to provoke any of them today. Who knows what sort of firework shenanigans they'd pull if they knew it bothered you."

"Sometimes," Virgil says with a sigh, "I wonder who the real Dark Sides are."

"Us, silly!" a new voice exclaims as Virgil's door bangs open, denting the wall with its force. Remus strolls in, closes the door, and tosses himself onto the couch next to Deceit. "Don't tell me you're getting it all mixed up again."

Virgil rolls his eyes. "Before you say it, I don't need a lobotomy."

Remus tips his head back and groans. Deceit absently pats his shoulder, focused on the book. Stepping away from the window, Virgil flicks on the full lights so they can see better, then sits down with the others. Remus eyes him for a moment, but doesn't protest.

"What if I slipped a lit firework into Roman's pillowcase tonight?" Remus suggests brightly. As he speaks, a firework manifests in his hand. "Imagine: his head, completely blown off. Just a charred and bloody stump remaining."

Virgil claps his hands over his ears and lets out a pained moan at the image.

Flipping his page, Deceit says, "though that would certainly be amusing, I'd never hear the end of it."

Remus pouts. Virgil exhales in relief.

"Who would look funnier without a head?" Remus murmurs, now talking more to himself than Virgil or Deceit. "Roman, or Logan? Roman, Logan, Roman..."

"Logan," Deceit supplies helpfully.

"Don't encourage it," Virgil groans.

"I'm not! I'm not." Deceit closes his book. "No blowing anyone's heads off or talking about it. Remus, pick a different topic."

"You're going to make it worse," Virgil says, picking up a pillow. When Remus opens his mouth to say something else, Virgil slaps him across the face with it. Remus topples off the bed and hits the ground with a dramatic cry, clutching his forehead. He takes his hand away, and suddenly his whole face is drenched in slick red blood.

Virgil scrambles backwards and squeezes his eyes shut, gagging at the sight. "Remus," he chokes out. "Remus is hurt, Deceit, he's dying! Oh, god, I've killed him-"

"Both of you!" Deceit snaps. "Quit antagonizing each other. Remus isn't dying. Remus, stop dying."

This continues for quite a while, so we'll just skip to the part that matters.

Sanders Sides Oneshots and Short StoriesWhere stories live. Discover now