#platonic analogical fanfiction

[fandom-queen-13]

OK SO I JUST HAD THIS SANDERS SIDES FIC IDEA

So. Urban fantasy/superpower AU, and Virgil can see into the future. Not far, and not for very long, but it's there. One night, he sees himself at a party of Roman's for some reason, and despite everything, he feels like he needs to go. So, he's at the party, just standing around awkwardly, and nothing really happens. Maybe Roman gives him a look every now and then, but all in all, nothing happens. Virgil feels like something was supposed to happen, so he goes to the party. And the next, and the next, and the next. Nothing's really changed, he's there at the back of the party, just. Watching.

Until one night, Virgil decides to stop. Maybe he's not feeling great, or maybe he's decided that what he saw already happened and he was just there for no reason. Either way, he doesn't show up at the party and just stays home.

Cue someone (I thought of it as Roman but it can really be anyone, even all of them if you wish) showing up at Virgil's house because Virgil's shown up every time and without him "I don't really feel safe at the party."

(bonus points if they come back and see something bad's happened at the party, so in a way, Virgil did save them)

[lily-janus]

Being Needed

Order up for @kieraelieson for the Sleepy Bean Fanfic Cafe' event on @tsspromptmonth who wanted, Canonverse Logan/Virgil. A soft hurt/comfort sick fic. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Logan helps Virgil and Thomas... and maybe himself too

Characters: Logan, Virgil and Thomas

Relationships: platonic Analogical

Word count: 902

Trigger warnings: anxiety attack, low self esteem, sickness, food mention, let me know if I missed anything!

"Thomas? Are you listening?” Logan tried his best to keep his voice its usual neutral tone, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Due to Thomas’ ADHD, Logan got used to him spacing out at times during their scheduling conversations. Today it seems to happen more frequently, though, so much so that Logan doubts he even listened from the beginning.

…Thomas still didn’t respond to his question, and when Logan looked at him closely he noticed that his eyes seemed unfocused. He raised his hand in front of Thomas’ face and snapped his fingers in hopes of shaking him back to reality.

It seemed to work as Thomas flinched and finally looked at Logan with a new focus. Frowning, Logan asked, “are you well, Thomas? Should I check on the others?”

“I ah…” Thomas struggled to speak, his breathing heavy for some reason, his forehead sweating a little, it almost looked like…

“Thomas, are you having an anxiety attack? I remember you researching signs of silent anxiety attacks, you seem to be showing most of those symptoms.” Logan said urgently, becoming more and more worried.

Thomas gripped his chest, right above his heart, and simply nodded “check… Virgil…” Thomas managed to say between labored breaths, closing his eyes and feeling the wall next to him with his hand, trying to ground himself.

As much as Logan didn’t want to leave Thomas like this, he knew he was right, Virgil was probably the core of this problem so the best way to help Thomas at the moment is to help Virgil.

Nodding, Logan sank down and sank up in the mindscape, heading straight to Virgil’s room and knocking on his door, loud enough to be heard but, hopefully, not too loud that it’ll startle him.

“Come in…” he heard a weak, hoarse voice calling from the inside, making his worries increase.

He closed the door behind him as he went in towards Virgil’s bed, seeing him crawled out in a ball on it, whimpering quietly.

“Virgil? What’s wrong?” He asked softly as he bent near the bed.

“I don’t know!” Virgil wailed, gripping his spider plushy tighter, “I just woke up today and… everything hurts Logan… I think I might be sick” he let out a cough as if to emphasize his statement.

“May I check your temperature?" He asked calmly, knowing how Virgil feels about physical touch at times.

Virgil nodded weakly and Logan gently placed his hand on his sweaty forehead. “As I suspected, your temperature is definitely higher than is recommended. You are indeed sick, which would explain Thomas’ state.”

Virgil turned to his side to look at Logan at that statement, “am I… hurting him again?” His voice is so weak and he sounds close to tears.

Logan shook his head, “no Virgil, anxiety would always be a struggle, that is something that no one, especially not you, can control. It would make sense that the worse you feel the stronger Thomas’ anxiety becomes, but that is something you can’t help. Best you can do is give yourself time to heal.”

Virgil still looked guilty but he nodded, “I’ll just rest today then… I don’t wanna bother you or the others, this’ll-” he sneezed, “pass” he finished.

Logan shook his head, reaching for a tissue box next to Virgil’s bed and handing him one. “It’ll pass quicker with help.” He pointed out, “and I would hope that, by now, you know that your needs, or anyone else’s, are not a bother.”

Virgil didn’t respond, simply blew his nose and threw the tissue in the bin beside his bed. But he didn’t object to Logan helping either.

Logan got up, “I’m going to make you breakfast and tea as I’m assuming you haven’t eaten today yet.”

Virgil shook his head, “just tea… not hungry.”

“Hungry or not, your body needs energy in order to heal properly, I’ll return shortly.”

Virgil grumbled but didn't protest farther, so Logan left to do as he said.

As the food was cooking, Logan sank up to check on Thomas, finding him on the couch, doom scrolling on his phone.

“Thomas?” He asked gently, though the question still startled Thomas as he jumped, almost dropping his phone.

“Oh… Logan… How's Virgil?” He asked when he calmed down a little.

“He appeared to be sick, I’m helping him recover, distraction is not a bad coping mechanism but please do try some grounding and breathing exercises as well.” He was about to sink back to the mindscape when Thomas grabbed his arm.

“Thank you…” he smiled weakly at him.

“Oh um… of course, Thomas, it’s my job to make sure you are functioning properly.” Logan quickly recovered from his intial surprise.

“I know, I appreciate that.” Thomas squeezed Logan’s arm with another smile, looking relieved, then let go and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly.

As Logan rose back up in the mindscape and finished preparing Virgil’s food and tea, he felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.

That same warmth increased when Virgil thanked him for the food and… for being there for him, shaking his head fondly after Logan pointed out it was part of his job.

It felt… good to be needed again, he didn’t realize just how much he missed that feeling. As he watched Virgil eat, he allowed himself a tiny, genuine, smile. He can still be useful after all…

[virgil-my-emo-son]

Spiral Out, Try to Float--Logan and Virgil, Hurt/Comfort

Requested by @amateurmasksmith a very long time ago 😭 Apologies for how long this took. School's been crazy!

Summary: Logan has an anxiety attack. Virgil helps him.

Relationships: Platonic Analogical

Words: 610

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51837730

The world was spinning. Which, of course, it was supposed to, but not like this.

Logan put his head in his hands, breathing fast. Snippets from his extensive to-do list whirled in his brain. Write current skit. Brainstorm next skit. Schedule meeting with Roman. He squeezed his eyes shut. Deep-clean kitchen. Write next week’s schedule.

Logan knew what he should do, Patton had talked him through things after the last time he’d had an attack like this. Close his eyes, take deep breaths, think of calm imagery. A still lake. The peace of deep space.

He couldn’t seem to get enough control of himself to do any of that now, though. I’ll never get all of it done. Never. He could feel the corners of his eyes begin to prickle with tears. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I shouldn’t be crying over this.

“Logan?”

Logan’s head snapped towards the door. Virgil leaned against the doorframe, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, his face contorted in concern.

“Will you—will you—will you close the door?” Logan stammered. Virgil pulled the door shut, walking into the room.

“You okay? Well, I mean, clearly… what’s up?” Virgil sat on the side of the desk; one hand emerging from his pocket to run through his hair.

“I’m—” Logan forced himself to take a long, shuddering breath. “I just have a lot going on.”

“And you’re having an anxiety attack.” Virgil said gently.

Logan took another breath. “No… you have anxiety attacks. I don’t.”

Virgil laughed. “Logan, you absolutely have anxiety attacks.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re shaking.” Virgil pointed out. Logan looked at his hand, and sure enough, it was trembling. “You’re having an anxiety attack. It’s okay.”

“I need to get things done. I need to get things done. I don’t—I can’t—it’ll never get finished.” Logan’s breathing got quick again as he refocused on his issue.

“Logan.” Virgil’s hand hovered above his. “Can I touch you?”

Logan’s eyes flicked up to Virgil’s as he nodded. Virgil took Logan’s hand. “Can you focus on me for a bit? Focus on my hand, how it feels in yours.”

Logan closed his eyes, moving his entire awareness to his fingers intertwined with Virgil’s. He noticed every little twitch of his fingers, the weight of Virgil’s hand, the sweat on his palm. His breathing began to slow.

“Good.” Virgil murmured. “Now can you imagine space? Neptune, or the butterfly nebula, or… anything like that?”

Logan almost smiled at that. He’d rambled enough about space that Virgil knew it was an interest of his, but he talked about his favorite planet and nebula more than other topics.

He envisioned the butterfly nebula, its vibrant colors, its ever-shifting forms and shapes. He lost himself in it, Virgil’s hand his tether as his breathing evened out and his heart rate slowed back to normal.

Virgil squeezed his hand. “Logan?”

Logan exhaled, opening his eyes. “Yes.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Yeah?”

Logan nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” Virgil gave Logan’s hand another squeeze, then released it.

“Don’t—” Logan swallowed. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t leave.” Virgil gave him a soft smile. “Do you want to do something, and then if you want you can come back to your work? When I’m stressed, I make myself tea.”

“I believe that would be a prudent step to take.”

Virgil laughed a little. “Prudent. Back to your vocab already.”

Logan smiled a bit, too. “Prudent isn’t an excessively difficult or complicated word.”

“I guess, but it’s not the most common word in the world, either.”

“I suppose.”

“Come on.” Virgil hopped off the desk. “Lets’ get you some tea.”

[moonbeam-dragon]

High school AU. Virgil is a Freshman. Logan and Patton are seniors.Virgil gets left at school during the winter. He can't get a hold of his mom or dad and is starting to panic. Luckily, there are a couple more people he can rely on.

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Friends? (pt 1 Logan /4)

Soulmates? (Unhappy Accidents): Part 1, Part 2

Friends?: •, Patton, Roman, Part 4

Word count: 2595

Rating: teen

Pairings: platonic Analogical, Anxceitmus, background Royalogicality

Warnings: anxiety, strained relationships

~~~START~~~

My apologies, but I am running fifteen minutes late  

Virgil felt his heart rate spike just from reading the text. Logan was considerate enough to text him forty minutes before they were supposed to meet up, but Virgil was already almost to his destination. Now forty-five minutes early.  

Ever since the accident two months ago, just being in a car was enough to give him a panic attack. Even when he was walking sometimes if a car was coming his way, no matter how slowly or how far away, he’d freeze up in fear, praying it would stop before it ran him over. It was so bad that even when he took the bus — somehow the least stressful form of transportation for him — he had to have his head buried in his phone the whole time, lest he notice a car outside slightly too close for comfort.  

Knowing how public transportation was, coupled with an anxious desire to be slightly early, Virgil had given himself a half hour cushion time, none of which had been used up.  

He could still go to the café he and Logan had planned to meet at, but then he’d be faced with a dilemma, order a drink and wait out the time, or wait out the time without ordering anything. If he ordered a drink, he’d likely finish it before Logan got there and would then either awkwardly not have a drink while Logan got his own drink, or order a second drink and risk getting too wired. But if he ordered nothing and just hung out, he’d feel like the employees would hate him, he’d be taking up space without actually funding the function of said space — which was basically trespassing.  

Virgil spent the final ten minutes of his bus ride in an anxiety spiral.  

Caffeine was definitely out of the question, and Virgil was beginning to resign himself to the employees hating him when he noticed a bookstore right next to the café. A bookstore was perfect! He could kill time without feeling like a nuisance.  

He ended up wandering the bookstore thinking more about how he got here than the books themselves.  

A couple weeks before the accident, he’d been laid off from his job, and then after the accident, he could barely stand to leave the house at all. He’d never had many friends, and then he was only ever talking to Janus and Remus — except for that one day when they’d gone to Remus’s brother’s house to talk to Virgil and Janus’s soulmates… 

He hadn’t wanted to contact them afterwards — not because they didn’t seem nice, but because he thought Janus and Remus might be upset. He thought Janus would be upset because he hated the concept of soulmates and only accepted Virgil because they’d been together for years before either of them had known about the connection; and he thought Remus might be upset because of how insecure he was about both his brother and the topic of soulmates.  

In the end, it was Janus who snapped at him to “stop looking like a kicked puppy and call them if it means so much to you!” 

He’d decided to start with Logan because he seemed to be the one that Remus liked best. Logan had been quite amenable — to use his words — to hanging out explicitly in a friendship capacity and had suggested a café halfway between Virgil’s home and Logan’s university.  

Five minutes before Logan was set to arrive, Virgil entered the café with a small bag from the bookstore containing a book on snakes and a toy octopus whose eyes popped out of its head when you squeezed it — he couldn’t just leave the store empty handed after wandering around it for so long. Virgil sat at a table, and exactly fifteen minutes after their previously scheduled meeting time, Logan Sanders walked through the door.  

Logan was wearing a crisp black polo shirt and a blue tie, leaving Virgil feeling awkwardly underdressed in his well-worn hoodie — which he had luckily not been wearing the day of the accident.  

“Hello Virgil,” Logan greeted him, making a beeline straight for Virgil’s table rather than the counter to order. “I hope I did not inconvenience you too much.” 

“Uh, no, it’s all good,” Virgil shrugged awkwardly.  

“Ah, I see you have already discovered the bookstore next door,” Logan observed, gesturing to the bag on the table. “I suppose my undiscussed idea to go there after coffee can be crossed off the list of potential activities.” 

Virgil’s face grew hot. Of course Logan had plans beyond coffee, and of course those plans involved books! How could Virgil be so stupid! 

“S-sorry,” Virgil managed to stutter over the staccato of his heart. “I didn't mean to ruin your plans.” 

“Not at all,” Logan waved him off. “I did not discuss my idea with you, and I had no expectations that you were a mind reader. There are plenty of other activities around here, the bookstore is just one thought of many. Have you ordered yet?” 

“Um, no, I was waiting for you.” 

“Excellent! Then allow me to treat you, as remuneration for my tardiness.” 

“Isn’t anticipating your thoughts supposed to be one of those soulmate things?” Virgil asked as they got in line, still hung up on the bookstore.  

“Not at all. In fact, I find open and explicit communication to be much more effective than relying on some sort of soulmate-driven precognition — heaven knows that if I tried to anticipate Roman or Patton’s desires without speaking to either of them first that I would, at least half the time, be wrong.” 

“Right,” Virgil answered, still somewhat skeptical.  

“And even if that were not the case,” Logan continued. “You have met me on two separate occasions, and on neither of those occasions did my love of books come up.” 

Virgil couldn’t press the matter further — not that he particularly wanted to — as they were the next to order. Virgil ordered a plain coffee with cream and sugar since it would be the cheapest option, while Logan ordered a surprisingly foofy drink.  

“Roman called my order of a black coffee ‘boring’ and insisted I try this once,” Logan explained after he’d paid, noticing Virgil’s raised eyebrow. “I am quite hooked.” 

Virgil shrugged, fair enough. Remus had certainly turned him onto his fair share of odd orders over the years.  

“So, what else is there to do around here?” Virgil asked as they waited for their orders. He had expected coffee to be the entire thing, he hadn’t put any thought into other activities.  

“There are quite a few stores we could look at, including an odd gift shop and a music store that has quite an impressive array; there are also three different museums in the area, an aquarium if you don’t mind a slightly longer walk, and a park. I am, of course, open to any other suggestions you may have, but these are the things I know about.” As Logan spoke, Virgil looked for any twitch in his face, any tone in his voice that might suggest which option was his preferred one, but Logan’s genuine demeanor gave nothing away. He sounded just as interested in one option as the next, it seemed it was up to Virgil to choose which one he wanted to do.  

“A music store sounds good,” Virgil said, somewhat noncommittally so he could change his answer if Logan seemed disappointed.  

Logan’s face lit up. “Excellent. The music store it is.” 

Coffee in hand, Virgil followed Logan down the street and around the corner to a music store absolutely stuffed with CDs, vinyl, and cassette tapes. The sheer amount of stuff in such a relatively small space was overwhelming.  

“I know that not everyone is a fan of structured time,” Logan said as Virgil took in the organized chaos. “And I certainly respect if all you would like to do is casually look around, but I have a suggestion if you’d like to have an activity.” 

“Yeah, activity is good,” Virgil shrugged, shoving his free hand into his pocket to hide his nerves.  

“In the interest of full disclosure, this activity is adapted from one of Roman’s favorite date night activities, but I do not believe that there is anything inherently romantic about the activity itself.” 

“Sure.” From what Virgil knew about Roman, romance was kinda his thing, so whether or not this activity would cross any of Virgil’s boundaries — and whether or not Virgil would let it — was now another entry on Virgil’s list of worries.  

“When Roman, Patton and I are here, we are each tasked with finding an album for one of our partners that combines our musical tastes with theirs. I do not know your musical tastes and I do not believe you know mine, so if you’d like, I suggest a music exchange where I will find you an album that I feel is important to me, and you find an album important for you.” 

“Important how?” Virgil asked nervously. Logan was right that this wasn’t inherently romantic, but music was something that could get intensely personal very quickly and Virgil was not ready to bear his soul to Logan.  

“In any way you choose to interpret it,” Logan answered. “It could be something your parents liked to listen to when you were young, it could be an album that has your favorite song on it, it could be something you pretended to hate in middle school; you do not have to justify your reasoning to me, I merely thought this could be an enjoyable icebreaker, so to speak.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Virgil shrugged, mind already racing with possibilities. “Sounds good.” 

“Excellent! Let us reconvene in ten minutes, unless you feel like you need more time, of course.” 

“Sure.” 

It took Virgil a couple minutes to figure out the layout of the store, and then the whole rest of the allotted time was spent trying to choose an album that he knew well enough to justify its importance, but he was emotionally removed enough from that Logan wouldn’t be able to read too much into it. When he finally ran out of time, he panicked and grabbed a CD of The Black Parade — an album he was decidedly not emotionally removed from — before rushing to meet Logan back at the front of the store.  

“Hello Virgil, did you find something?” Logan asked, Virgil had noticed him wandering around the store too, but he didn’t look nearly as anxious as Virgil felt — what if Logan hated emo music and decided never to talk to Virgil again? 

“Yeah…” Virgil fiddled with the plastic case in his hands. “It’s stupid.” 

“No such thing,” Logan replied, matter-of-factly. “If you asked Patton to do this, he would likely bring you a CD from the television program Arthur; Roman would likely choose multiple CDs as one would not be enough; I do not consider either of these choices to be ‘stupid’.” 

“The… the children’s cartoon?” 

“Yes.”  

“…okay. Uh, here,” Virgil shoved the MCR CD at him. “Is that how this works?” 

“Thank you, Virgil. This one is for you.” 

Logan handed him a CD of 8 Mile. Virgil blinked at it. People could like any genre, of course, but Logan did not strike him as a rap guy.  

“This is the first thing I bought when I got my first paycheck,” Logan explained.  

“C-cool,” Virgil shifted uncomfortably, he hadn’t offered an explanation for his choice, and he wouldn’t unless Logan asked for one, but he still felt like he was failing at something. “Um, what do we do now?” 

“We can look around some more if you would like. I do not mind if you don’t buy the CD, picking one out was just meant to be a small activity.” 

“No, it’s cool. I, uh, I don’t have this one.” Logan smiled and the knot in Virgil’s chest loosened a little. Logan didn’t hate him and he wasn’t completely bombing this social interaction.  

Virgil and Logan spent almost an hour looking around the store together and discussing music. Virgil did end up buying 8 Mile, as well as a couple albums for himself; Logan bought The Black Parade. After the music store, they actually did go back to the bookstore so Logan could purchase a few items from his personal wishlist.  

“Where did you park?” Logan asked as they were wrapping up at the bookstore.  

“I didn’t. I took the bus here.” Virgil had actually been enjoying himself, to the point where he’d completely forgotten that he'd need to take the bus home, but now that thought was at the forefront of his mind. He needed to look up the bus schedule.  

“Ah, well if you would like, I could drive you home.” Virgil knew he’d been trying to be friendly, to help Virgil get home quicker, but Virgil's heart still tried to leap out of his chest at the suggestion.  

“No thanks!” He said, much too quickly. “I mean, it’s fine, I like the bus.” 

Logan gave him a strange look, but nodded anyway. “If that is what you wish.” 

“Yeah. Uh, bye.” 

“Goodbye Virgil, I hope the rest of your day is satisfactory.” 

“Yeah, you too.” 

^(^.^)^ 

Virgil's heart didn’t stop pounding until he was off the bus, standing a block down from his building. Logan’s innocent suggestion to take a car had put Virgil so on edge that his phone was barely enough to keep him from having a panic attack on the bus.  

Much to his surprise, Janus and Remus were both sitting at the apartment’s kitchen table when he finally made it up to his floor. Remus’s head whipped around to stare at him with the most heartbreakingly anxious look in his eye while Janus stayed staring straight ahead, a tightening around his eyes was the only indication he’d noticed Virgil’s arrival.  

“Um, hey,” Virgil waved at Remus awkwardly, hoping that would be enough to get his boyfriend to stop staring at him like that.  

“You’re back late,” Janus commented, still not looking at him.  

Virgil frowned. “Sorry, mom, I didn’t realize I had a curfew.” 

Janus’s fingers twitched around the coffee mug he was holding.  

“Damn right you do, young man!” Remus said suddenly, slightly too loud and with a forced-playful look in his eye. “Your mother and I have been worried sick!” 

Virgil rolled his eyes and tried to get a handle on his temper. “I got you both something.” 

He tossed the octopus at Remus and set the book down in front of Janus, more forcefully than necessary. Janus stared at the book, taken aback; Remus put the octopus in his mouth and shook it like a dog with a toy.  

“Thanks, Virgie!” Remus said after spitting the now wet toy into his hand. “Love you!” 

“Love you too.” Most of the anxiousness had drained from Remus’s face, and the rest disappeared at Virgil’s words.  

Janus pulled the book to him and tapped his fingers on the cover a few times before speaking. “And how was Logan?” 

“Fine,” Virgil answered quickly. “Good. It was good. Nice to hangout with someone as a friend — been a while… since I’ve had a friend.”  

With every word, Virgil could feel himself losing confidence, but when he was done, Janus turned to him with a soft look in his eye.  

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” 

Tension he hadn’t even known he’d been holding drained out of Virgil’s shoulders as he returned Janus’s smile.  

“Yeah, it was good.” 

~~~END~~~

I love writing Logan, he can just explain everything without the dialog reading as weird

I got rear ended a few months ago and ever since I’ve been really anxious about cars coming up behind me when I’m stopped (I was stopped at a stoplight when the guy behind me for some unfathomable reason thought the light had turned green and just didn’t realize that I wasn’t moving?), and I can only imagine how bad my anxiety would be if I had actually gotten injured

Soulmates? taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @aeternum-ablaze @misunderstood-shadowling @vash-the-trans-catboy @dazzling-in-diamonds

[kamiana-ruzha]

so i saw this post by @klinefelterrible

and... let's talk Transformers sex.

i can't say that i am a very big specialist in that area, but some time ago i had to dive deep after realising my mistake after translating tf anatomy dictionary, so yeah, with a few dozen hundreds of read fics too i feel authorised enough to talk about that.

this post is more of a simplified summary on fanlore tf sex page, which is here. for more detailed and specific post i recommend this one by @/sweet7simple it's a must read for any tf-ficwriter, especially the ones that explore the theme of sparklings in their works.

so. let's begin with what was my mistake: assuming that tf sex, which is mostly called "interface", has only one type. in fact, it has three: sticky, plug'n'play and the mindfuck. sparkmerge/bond occurs in them all but will be covered briefly.

i won't cover the "squishy" as no-one really uses it.

let's dive in 🫶

sticky interface is the most popular, i'm sure it's the one you've seen in most of E&M rated tf fanfiction on ao3.

it's quite simple: "spike" is a penis-analog and "valve" is analog of vagina.

valve has sensitivity nodes, calipers, labia, and is formed meshed sleeve. it also has a 'seal' which, you got it, indicates if a bot had been penetrated or not.

all words you use in ordinary dick description apply to a spike, BUT for more detailed description of its structure really go check out the post by sweet7simple.

both organs may have biolights, modifications (think sex toys functions); during intimacy they work the same human organs work. yes, they can make kids too.

the interface panel for valve is called a "valve cover" and for a spike - a "spike housing". both may be called an interface array

interface stands for sexual intercourse of any type.

most transformers have both spike and a valve, exceptions can be created in your fics.

plug'n'play is second popular tf sex type. in some cases, it's more platonic, in others - almost like sticky interface. sometimes penis-analog is called 'cable', vagina one - interface array.

this type is based on electric charge, sent or downloaded from one partner to another. the friction doesn't usually occur.

i've seen it barely five times so i'd be thankful if someone more educated in that matter shares their knowledge.

the type i called mindfuck is almost like cordial psychic cord, that thing from tfp. this fic, for example, is great at exploring that type. unfortunately, i can't find another example, but the concept is the same.

basically, it's the same plug'n'play but the cords join at the backs of their heads and they share pleasant memories or download cute cat memes or smth. it's more of a mental pleasure and the mindfuck was a joking name.

sparkbond is almost the same, but they share all the memories during literal bonding of their souls. but, the bond is not required to feel pleasure - it could just be an extra tool, for example, to sent a em-wave of pleasure or comfort or whatever other emotions that can be sent. i will do more research and post about sparkbond once again in the future.

i'd also mention the heat modes – basically, they are the same ones animals have in nature and people have in omegaverse fanfiction. usually, the purpose is the same – bitlet. hot body temperature, heightened libido, excessive lubrication - you name it.

i'd be glad if that long read was useful in any way 🫶

have a flower💠

and go write robot porn

i bless you

[transfemlogan]

And When The Moon is High Masterlist

Read on AO3 | all fanfiction masterlist

———

Summary: A bed squeaks along with cracking bones. A loud crash, followed by a thud and a bang. Fabric rips, metal clangs, and glass shatters.

The wind screams with a howl.

--

After 5 months of dating, Logan wants to share his full moon with Virgil. Virgil promises to do everything in his power to help him.

Then Logan makes a mistake. He didn't mean to.

He swears he didn't mean to.

———

Warnings: hurt/comfort, (off-screen) murder in self-defense, minor character death

An analogical fic with witch!virgil and werewolf!logan. Background pre-platonic logince.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

[askaniritual]

like i've always been Extremely interested in the way that love and relationships are represented in the locked tomb, because i think the books convey a very unique intensity of emotion and are specifically concerned with relationships that are emotionally intense but presented in a way that seeks to explicitly deny a comfortable romantic/platonic categorization. much like people talk about tomgreg in succession.

i dont think like you have to say "oh tamsyn muir was a bnf in the homestuck fandom so any similarities that can be drawn between homestuck and the locked tomb books are automatically intentional or referential". but that being said she has described her own real life relationship as a moiraillegiance so i think its fair to say that she is very interested in and invested in this framework, and in moiraillegiances specifically (which is the relationship quadrant that is most unique to homestuck) and thus i think its fair to do a reading of the text through this framework.

where the serendipity gospel comes in as a point of focus for me in looking at how homestuck quadrant shipping influences the locked tomb is that fanfiction in general is often very very concerned with articulating the exact details of a relationship. and i think within the serendipity gospel there are times where relationships are explored that feel very analogous to certain relationships in the locked tomb but are given a lot more time and a lot more interior context.

[spectacled-renegade-writes]

The Moon is Bright. It’s Better Than This Cold Bridge.

THIS IS A VENT FIC. PLEASE, PLEASE HEED THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. Keep yourself safe.

Summary: Tonight is going to be his last night on Earth.

Pairings: Platonic Analogical

Trigger Warnings: Suicidal, suicidal ideations, suicidal thoughts, mention of death, mention of parent in jail, loneliness, brief religious commentary, swearing, hopelessness, implied child abuse, numbness, depression, mention of anxiety, angst, vent fic

Other Tags: This story gets sad before it gets happy, angst with a happy ending, hopeful ending, they live

Words: 1128

Ao3: Here

Part of him was annoyed someone else got there before him. The other part of him intrigued.

“You can’t talk me down,” The stranger, whom was sitting on the railing of the bridge, said to him.

“I’m not planning to,” He replied, climbing on the railing and sitting next to the mysterious man. “I was actually planning on jumping too.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded, “Maybe we can jump together, Thelma and Louise type shit.”

The stranger breathed out a laugh, and it was quite humorless. “At least let me get to know you first.”

Stretching his arms and popping his back, he shrugged and said, “Why not? It’s our last night on this damned planet. Might as well make it worthwhile.“ He exhaled. "Let’s start off easy: Why are you killing yourself?”

The stranger snorted. “I think you need to rethink your definition of easy,” He sighed, “Nevertheless, if you must know, I lost my job today. It is, or rather was, all I had. I know it was my fault, too.”

He prodded the stranger to keep going.

“I was a college professor. I lost my family as a young adult and I haven’t any friends. My students were the best part of my days.”

“So? What did you do that got you fired?”

The stranger shook his head. “I’ll continue my story after you start yours.”

He held onto the railing and leaned back a bit, extending his legs out. “My favorite professor got fired today.”

The stranger’s gaze snapped toward him.

“Kidding. My mom died yesterday. She’s been sick for a while, so I knew it was going to happen eventually, but I still wasn’t ready for it.”

“And you have no support system?”

He shook his head. “I’m just like you, buddy. Bitter and alone. Well, my dad’s still kicking, but he’s got a life sentence in a nice, cozy prison cell. It’s not like I’d want him around anyway, he didn’t do any favors for mom and I growing up.”

“I see,” The stranger said. He got quiet for a moment as he turned his head and looked at the full moon staring back at him. “I got fired today for losing my temper with the faculty one too many times. I suppose I was wrong in thinking that it was quite justified.”

“Hm,” He stared up at the moon, too. “Been there before. Got expelled from two schools. They all thought I’d turn out like my dad.” He looked down at the ocean. “Mom never thought so, though. ‘You are who you choose to be’ and all that jazz, that’s what she always told me.”

“Your mother sounds like a beautiful person.”

He froze, and choked on his breath. “Yeah… She was.” He looked over at the stranger, who had the same face he saw in the mirror this morning. Glazed, numb… resigned. There was something liberating about the feeling. Every anxiety in his mind all went away the second he decided he was going to jump off this bridge. For once in his life he just felt… nothing. It was the most peace he has ever felt in his entire life. He closed his eyes and took a moment to just bask in it.

“Do you believe in an afterlife?”

He opened his eyes and looked at the stranger. The stranger was staring back at him, it seemed he was just making conversation for the sake of it because there was no real curiosity anywhere on his face.

“Do you want there to be?”

The stranger hummed and looked back out at the night sky. “I’m not sure… I’ve never believed in religion but sometimes I wonder if perhaps it’s all true. Then what? Will I be damned to hell for not following the book?”

He took that into consideration. “I’m not big on religion either, but if there is a big guy upstairs, I’m sure he’d forgive you if you didn’t do anything really bad.”

The stranger seemed to consider that.

A wind picked up and sent chills down both their spines. It seemed to shift the mood between them. They both looked down at the black water below.

“How long do you think our bodies would be down there before we’re found and marked as a couple of unclaimed John Doe’s?”

The stranger took a minute to think on it. “Well… I’d say it depends on the weather, how strong the waves are, if there are any boats around, and the wildlife. So, who’s to say?”

He remained silent. The stranger spoke up again.

“May I tell you something personal?”

He nodded, eyes remaining on the ocean.

“I do not actually wish to die.”

That caused him to stiffen. His jaw clenched and his hands held tighter onto the cold railing. Something deep and sad, and full of… something, settling in his stomach. “Then why?”

“I see nothing else in my future. Many people die before they want to. I believe now is my time.”

He hated the calm, matter-of-fact way the stranger said that. It pissed him off. He missed the numb he’s been feeling. He didn’t know why he was mad. He realized it’s because he felt the exact same way… He let out a shuttering breath.

The stranger tilted his head. “Do you feel the same?”

He clenched his jaw once more to stop the tears from spilling. They were the first warm thing he felt all day. He nodded.

There was something quite sobering about this fact. The two fell into silence, losing themselves in their own thoughts.

-

The seconds ticked into minutes and the minutes to hours, and they just continued to sit there.

It was odd, when the sun came up. It destroyed their small liminal space that they created for themselves.

When the first boat of the day appeared before them, the stranger spoke again.

“Perhaps we were meant to meet each other here tonight?”

“…For what?”

“To find that someone.” The stranger replied.

And all at once the nothing vanished. He imagined he was staring just as intensely into the stranger’s eyes as the stranger was in his.

The stranger turned around and climbed off the railing, and held out a hand. “Would you like to get a coffee with me?”

Though the nothing was gone, the deep, deep, feeling that has been in his stomach lately was gone too. Instead, something warm and new blossomed inside. He, too, climbed off the railing, and accepted the stranger’s hand. “I’d like that.”

So, even though they didn’t know each other, and even though they just met, they walked off the bridge hand in hand.

“I’m Virgil, by the way.”

The stranger continued to stare straight ahead as he smiled. “Logan.”

–

General taglist 

@i-am-avacado @cdragontogacotar @rptheturk

(Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist!)

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Logan, Virgil, protector, fae

And 5. "I didn't realize I was such an inconvenience."

<3

I didn't mean to follow a pattern from my last prompt, but apparently I got a soft spot for teen!sides getting protected by powerful supernatural creatures this week. And I absolutely fell in love with these boys already so I hope you enjoy!

This is prompt number two of four for this game, so there's more coming <3 

What You Deserve

Read on Ao3

Description: Entering the fairy ring to meet the master of the forest, Virgil knows he has one choice. Sacrificing himself to save his family was an honor, and it was his responsibility. Right? 

Fortunately, not everyone agrees.

Word Count: 2792

Warnings: Shame, Manipulation, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Narcissistic Parent, Slavery Mention, Food Mention, Abandonment, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending (Let me know if I missed anything!)

--

    “This way, Virgil.”

     “Yes, mother.”

     “Stop dragging your feet.”

     “I'm not—”

     “Speak up and stop mumbling.” Virgil’s mother put a hand on to his back to urge him down the path into the forest. “and don’t you dare wrinkle that shirt.”

     “Yes, ma’am.”

     The silver light of the full moon filtered through the trees, sparkling on the dewy grass like tiny gems dotting the landscape. Bright, purple mushrooms grew in bunches underneath the trees. Their gills gave off a faint, pink glow that illuminated their path toward where the fairy ring was known to appear. It would almost have been pretty, if he didn’t know why his mother had brought him here.

     “We’re almost there.” His mother turned back over her shoulder to glare at him. “You will remain silent and let me do the talking. I don’t need you screwing this up for us.”

     “Y-yes, ma’am. I won't—”

     “And no crying.” His mother reached to his cheek to brusquely wipe away the tears before dragging him forward into the open clearing. “Have some pride, Virgil. You’re doing this for your family.”

     Virgil swallowed back a biting comment, ignoring everything he'd ever been taught to willingly follow his mother into circle of mushrooms at the center of the forest glade. The fairy ring. He felt a rush of power sweeping around them as he wiped the last of his tears from his eyes and stopped behind his mother. The subtle pink glow of the forest floor grew brighter as Virgil stared at the ground, curling his arms across his chest as a figure emerged from shadows.

     “Human, I do not believe my instructions were unclear.” The deep voice of the fae carried an aura of warning as he addressed Virgil’s mother from the shadows. “You and your bloodline are no longer welcome in this forest. Begone before I lose my patience with you.”

     “Good master of the forest, we are here to humbly request your audience.” Virgil’s mother bowed her head. “We seek not to anger you, but to appease you for the wrongs we have committed. Will you hear my offer?”

     The figure stepped into the moonlight and Virgil had to stifle a gasp. Thin antlers rose up from man's soft, brown hair and his soft features radiated a gentle beauty unlike any he had ever seen before.

     “I see no need for me to bargain with your family. You chose to ignore my warning not to take more than you need when you hunt the creatures here, and as a result you have suffered for your trespasses into my forest.”

     The fae began to turn away, but Virgil’s mother dropped to he knees, reaching her hands up to plead with him. “Master fae, I need to feed my family—"

     “The fault for your misery lays squarely on your own shoulders.”

     “I know, but if we are to survive, our needs remain unchanged.” His mother’s voice trembled as she folded her hands together in a silent prayer. “Please, allow me to replace the life that was taken from your forest.”

     The air felt heavy as the master of the forest turned back to them. His eyes moved slowly from Virgil’s mother up to Virgil, lingering uncomfortably as Virgil bowed his head.

     “Explain yourself.”

     “I come to offer my secondborn. If you will accept h—"

     “Ha, and I'm to understand you sought not to offend me.” The fae’s lip twisted into a cruel sneer as he bared down on Virgil’s mother. “You come to beg for your life, and you do even follow the word of legend. Do the stories not say that we fae barter for the firstborn child?”

     “Please, my grace. We need my oldest for the harvest.” His mother dropped her forehead to the ground. “Without him we'll starve, but Virgil is not meant for such things. He is neither our brightest nor our strongest, but he works hard—If you'll have him, he will serve you faithfully in penance for our sins.”

     Virgil's lip twisted in disgust as his mother all but begged the fae to take him away. “I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience, mother.”

     A withering glare flashed across his mother’s face as she turned her head over her shoulder towards him. Her movements lacked subtlety and her message was clear. She wanted nothing more to do with him, and if he messed up her plans, she'd surely make him pay for his mistakes. Fortunately for her, not all hope was lost. The faerie’s piercing, blue eyes had fixed their attention on Virgil.

     “Virgil, child.” The fae paused as though he were taking the time to feel Virgil’s name on his lips. “What do you have to say about all of this?”

     A subtle, tingling crept across Virgil’s skin as the man spoke his true name. His mother had given it so freely, he hadn’t even considered the power the forest fae already had over him. “I, um—I don’t—”

     “He's a good boy who does as he's told. You won’t regret taking him—”

     “My question was not directed at you, madam.” The fae's eyes flashed a cold warning at his mother that sent shivers across Virgil’s skin. His stomach had been doing nervous flips since they entered the forest, but now that he was face to face with the powerful fae, he felt like his wobbling legs might finally betray him. “I wish to hear Virgil answer for himself.”

     “I, um—whatwasthequestionagain?”

     His mother looked poised to strike him for such a pitiful display of composure but the man in front of him seemed to find his incompetence pleasantly amusing.

     “You are being asked to forfeit the only life you've come to know.” The cold tone of the fae's voice was tempered with a comforting softness that started to still the pounding in Virgil’s heart. “Surely you have feelings about what your mother is asking of you?”

     “Umm—”

     “And keep in mind,” The man paused as Virgil looked up at him with wide eyes. He kept his tone soft and reassuring, but firm as he addressed Virgil. “it is unwise to lie to one of the Fair Folk like myself.”

     “No—Of course not, sir.”

     Virgil’s mumble was nearly lost to the wind as he bowed his head to his chest, considering his words carefully. His mother had made it clear that this was his responsibility. If they failed to win the fae’s favor, his family may not survive the winter, and he was the only one with the power to change the creature's mind. He had not other choice. He would make his mother proud of him, if only this one time.

     “If you will spare my family of their suffering, I am prepared to go with you.” Virgil dropped to his knees next to his mother and gave a deep bow to the ruler of the forest. “Please accept my mother’s offer.”

     “I asked of your feelings, and yet you offer nothing of substance.”

     “I know, sir.” Virgil’s forehead pressed to the dewy ground. “I’m sorry, but I do not wish for my emotions to sway your decision.”

     The fae's silence weighed down on his shoulders as Virgil trembled and begged for the fae to take him. This was so simple. He couldn’t screw this up too.

     “Very well. I accept the terms you’ve laid out for your family’s penance.”

     Virgil lifted his head to the faerie ruler as he crossed his arms across his chest. His expression remained unmoved as Virgil looked to his mother. Relief spread across her face as she rose to her feet, oblivious to the despair twisting Virgil’s stomach.

     “Really, sir?”

     “To be clear, I expect to take the boy.” The man's leering glare landed on Virgil’s mother as she rose to her feet. “And in return, your family will be given passage into my forest to take only what you need to survive. Choose to get greedy again, and you will find that mercy is not something I grant twice.”

     “Yes, sir.” His mother looked like she may weep with relief. “Your grace’s kindness knows no bounds. May peace be with you.”

     “It would be wise if you to leave before my patience runs thin, human.”

     The fae’s cold tone didn’t falter as his mother nodded. Virgil felt a numbness overcome him as his mother turned to wrap her arms around him.

     “Take care of yourself, Virgil. You've done your family proud."

     She pressed a kiss to his temple before letting him go and rushing back down the path, leaving him weeping at the feet of the stranger.

     “Come with me, child.”

     “Y-yes, master.”

     “There is no need for you to address me as such.” The forest fae offered Virgil a hand as he scrambled to his feet obediently. “If it is acceptable, you may refer to me as Logan.”

     Shaken, Virgil could do nothing but stare as the fae offered him a hand to his feet. “L-Logan?”

     “I know I have you at an unfair advantage as I do not intend to share my true name, but you need not harbor any fear in your heart that I intend to hurt you.” Logan’s voice was soft as he rested a hand on Virgil’s back and guided him deeper into the forest. “Despite the ideas your mother undoubtedly in your head, I have no intentions of making you a slave.”

     Virgil didn’t dare voice the many thoughts racing through his mind as his heart fluttered with a faint hope. He knew that the Fair Folk didn’t lie, but that didn’t mean that Logan did not hide his true intentions behind fancy words.

     “T-thank you.”

     “That is not a sentiment worthy of your gratitude.” Logan's voice sent a tingling rushing over Virgil’s skin as the fae pulled him to his feet. He was quiet as the fae pulled off his cloak, wrapping it around Virgil’s shoulders as they walked deeper into the forest. “I can assure you I only wish to honor the sacrifice you were willing to make.”

--

     “This food is not of fae origins.” Logan’s expression remained gentle and patient as Virgil eyed the bowl of stew with suspicion. “You need not worry about any possible adverse effects to your health.”

     Mere hours had passed since the fae had brought him to this realm, but settling into his new home had gone smoother than Virgil could have expected.  Logan had been nothing less than pleasant, presenting Virgil with an overly extravagant bedroom with silk bedsheets and pillows for him to scream into the second Logan left him alone. He’d been allowed to sleep in as the thick shades kept out the morning light, and since he'd woke, his host had allowed him enough space that he'd been mostly able to simmer down from his overstimulated state. The respectful distance had been a welcome comfort, and he'd certainly been grateful for the fae's patience, but now the man had returned with a stubborn desire to feed him.

     “What can I say to convince you my intent is not to hurt you, Virgil?”

     “Nothing,” Virgil muttered as he forced his muscles to relax, realizing a moment too late that he had risked offending the fae. “I mean—Of course, I will accept the meal you've been gracious enough to prepare for me.”

     Don’t thank the Fair Folk, lest you admit you owe them a debt.

     Offering his life to Logan surely came with complications he didn’t fully understand, but he had no intention of giving away anymore of himself for free.

     “I understand your caution is a rational reaction given your situation, but I hope to prove to you that it is unnecessary.” Logan’s soothing voice was quick to lull Virgil into almost believing his words were genuine. “Perhaps, we can set some base expectations about your time here to help ease your discomfort.”

     Virgil chewed on his lip as he propped himself up on the edge of the bed. The silky, sheets felt like heaven on his aching body as he nodded and sipped on the savory broth. Meals brought to him in his own room were more than he'd ever dreamed to expect, but maybe now he could get an idea of what Logan would ask in return.

     “Alright, Virgil. The first thing I need you to understand about my choice to invite you here is that you are free to leave at any time and for any reason.”

     A sudden burning filled his nostrils as he accidentally inhaled his soup, choking as he looked up at Logan's patient smile. “What?”

     “I do not believe that children should be made to pay for the sins of their parents.”

     A shiver ran up Virgil’s spine as he looked up into the unsettling blue eyes of his captor. “That line might work better if you hadn’t accepted my life as payment only hours ago.”

     “On the contrary, though I did not say so at the time, I viewed our transaction very differently than your mother.” Logan's lip curled into a smile as he moved away from Virgil to drop into a purple tufted chair a few steps away from the bed. “She believes sacrificing you was the price she paid for her life, but I would say granting her passage to my forest was the price I paid to bring you here.”

     Virgil chewed on his lip as he focused on the bowl of soup in his lap. “Yeah, well, it all sounds the same to me.”

     “I understand why you feel that way, but the difference is quite sizable in my eyes." Logan curled his hands in his lap. His narrow antlers stood like a crown on his head as he stared seriously at Virgil. “You see, I paid a price for your life with no ulterior motive but to give your freedom back to you.”

     “Liar.”

     “You know well enough that the Fair Folk do not lie, and despite what you may know of my people's reputation, I prefer to be straight forward about my intentions.” Logan let his serious tone drop to speak earnestly to Virgil. “Come morning, if your mind remains unchanged, you are free to return to your family. I only ask that you reflect on your situation for one day and one night before making any decisions.”

     Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Fae didn’t lie, but surely what Logan was saying couldn’t be the truth. “You are deceiving me.”

     “Falsehood.” Logan’s eyes narrowed on him. “You may test my boundaries all you like, but I assure you there is no hidden motive in my words.”

     “There's no way.” Virgil muttered as he stabbed at a crumbling potato with his spoon. “Why bother to take me if you were planning to release me all along?”

     “No honorable parent uses guilt and shame to motivate their child, much less manipulates them to sacrifice themselves for said parent.” Logan paused to steady the growing anger in his voice. “Her job should have been to protect you, not the other way around, and I couldn’t abide such deplorable behavior.”

     Virgil stirred the bowl of warm broth and root vegetables in his hand, grateful for the grounding sensation of heat as he listened to Logan’s words. “That’s a low blow to insult my mother.”

     “You are the master of your own fate, Virgil. If you believe I am ill-informed, you are free to return to her and your brothers at first light tomorrow morning.” Logan's lip curled into a reassuring smile as Virgil chewed on his words. “But know, whether it is for a single night or a lifetime, you are welcome to stay.”

     “As a slave, you mean.”

     “As an honored guest, child.” Logan smirked at Virgil’s stubbornness as he rose to his feet and turned towards the door. “I am offering you a sanctuary from the shame and fear your family has convinced you is normal, but whether or not you choose to accept that offer is entirely up to you.”

     Virgil’s chest clenched with a mild anxiety as Logan turned to leave him. “You’ll be back in the morning?”

     “Bright and early, as promised.”

     “Maybe—” Virgil’s voice trembled.  He couldn’t believe he was starting to trust this fae. “Maybe not too bright and early, if that’s okay?”

     “As you wish, Virgil.” Logan smiled as he headed towards the door. “Good night."

     “Night.”

     Virgil put his empty bowl on the tray at the end of the bed. The lights dimmed automatically as Virgil turned to collapse on the impossibly comfortable bed. Having the space was definitely a different experience than being crammed together with all of his younger brothers. Perhaps he could risk staying for just a few more nights.

-

This is prompt number two of four for this game, so there's more coming <3

Prompt Game

Prompt #1 - Janus/Remus/Protector/Werewolves+"Hold still. I don't want to hurt you."  

General Taglist (Just ask to be included or taken off!):

@justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

[sleepyvirgilprompts]

Roman burst into Logan’s room. “Hey Logan, did-- what is that villain doing here? What the hell is going on?”

Logan was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall, and Anxiety was lying facedown on top of him with Logan stroking his hair. “Normally it’s considered polite to knock,” said Logan mildly. Roman gaped at him. Logan sighed and removed his hand from the other Side’s hair, saying, “You’d better wake up now, Anxiety.” Anxiety shifted and groaned softly. “Wake up now, please,” Logan repeated.

Anxiety mumbled, “M’tired, Lo.”

“I know,” said Logan. “Come on.”

Anxiety rolled off of Logan and sat up, blinking.

[lily-janus]

Happy birthday to my dear friend @theimprobabledreamersworld ! I love you so much, Angel, I know you've been through a lot lately and I'm very proud of you^^ you're doing great! I always feel lucky to have you as a friend and I hope this short fic I wrote expresses that💜💙

The Best Gift I Could Ask For

Summary: Virgil's plans for his friend's birthday... don't go as planned.

Pairing: platonic Analogical

Warnings: mild sickness and I'm pretty sure that's it, it's mostly fluff. But be sure to let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 1,042

"Ah… here ya go Lo, it's okay if you don't like it, there's a return card… I just thought you might so…" Virgil shrugged, trying to play it casual, burying his hands in his hoodie pocket. He sniffed a little, his nose feeling stuffed ever since he woke up.

"Are you okay, Virgil?" Logan asked him with a slight frown, to which Virgil dismissed quickly.

Logan nodded and took the present from him curiously, unwrapping it carefully, even though it wasn't wrapped very well, despite Virgil's best efforts. His eyes widened a bit when he saw the book Virgil got him. "I… thought they sold out."

Virgil shrugged again, feeling a headache setting in, "well… you know, I have a cousin that works at a bookstore and I asked him to pull some strings… it's no big deal you've just been talking about this book non-stop." He huffed fondly at that.

"...you were listening?" Came Logan's quiet response as he hugged the book to his chest.

Virgil blushed slightly, "ah… yeah, of course, it's nice… hearing you talk I mean, I don't know."

There was a gleam in Logan's blue eyes as he looked at his friend, "you really think so? I understand most people find it boring…"

Virgil huffed again, "well, good thing I'm not most people then. I find listening to you somewhat relaxing… sorry if that's a weird thing to say."

Logan shook his head, "not at all it's… well, thank you, Virgil, I appreciate it."

"No problem, happy birthday, Logan." Virgil said with a small smile.

"Thank you for stopping by to give me this, I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

Virgil snorted at that, making Logan frown, "did I say something funny?"

"You thought I only came here to give you a book? C'mon, I got more stuff planned." Virgil laughed a little, getting up from Logan's bed, Logan following suit soon after.

"I hope you don't mean a part-"

Virgil raised an eyebrow before he can finish.

"...right, forgot who I was talking to." Logan smiled slightly in amusement in response to their similarities, "so where are we going?"

Virgil smiled at that, "you'll see."

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

"We're at your house?" Logan asked when they arrived.

Virgil nodded, the short walk making him feel more tired than it should… "Yeah, you know, none of us likes big parties and stuff so I thought we'd just hang out at my place. I ordered food from your favorite place and I thought we can binge the new season of Doctor Who you didn't have time to watch yet…" he shrugged, "we can do something else if you want, I just thought-"

Logan shook his head, smiling, "it sounds perfect, Virgil, thank you."

Virgil went ahead to unlock the door and let them both in, trying to hide his faint blush, "oh… it's no problem, Lo."

They went inside and got comfortable on the couch with their steaming ramen bowls.

As Virgil pressed play on the first episode he suddenly sneezed loudly, cleaning himself quickly with a tissue. His head was pounding now.

"Virgil? Are you sure you're okay? You look a bit pale…" Logan scooted closer to gently press the back of his hand to Virgil's forehead, "your body temperature seems to be high too, I think you might have a cold-"

"No, I'm fine… just a little-" he sneezed again, "tired." He finished. He can't be sick today! Today's about Logan, not him.

Logan gave him one of his stern looks that told him he wasn't buying it, "Virgil, you're clearly sick, your parents are away right? I'd be happy to take of you-"

"I'm okay! Really, let's just… have fun together." He insisted, a practiculary painful pound from his head making him wince slightly.

Logan huffed in annoyance, "you're obviously in pain, come on, let's get you to your bed." He got up and offered his hands to help Virgil get up.

"But… your birthday-" he protested weakly.

"It's just a day, Virgil, your health is much more important. Besides, you know I like taking care of you. Now, up on your feet." Logan urged him, pulling gently on his arm.

Virgil went to argue again, but he sneezed again, making his headache pound harder and he sighed in surrender, getting up slowly. "Okay…"

….

As he laid in bed, Logan gave him a steaming mug with herbal tea.

Virgil took it, sighing again, "thanks Lo… and sorry… for ruining your day."

Logan smiled softly, "you didn't ruin anything, Virgil. Getting to take care of you is the best gift I could have asked for."

Virgil grimaced at that, "but you always do that… just wanted to take care of you for a change… you deserve it, you know?"

"What are you talking about? Of course you take care of me, you do it all the time!" Logan said honestly.

"I do? Like when?" Virgil asked in surprise.

"Well, you told off Zack the other day after he made fun of me." Logan said, making Virgil huff.

"He had it coming."

"You helped me finish my art project when I was too busy with my physics project." Logan continued to list things off.

Virgil shrugged, "it wasn't very hard…"

"You got me a book I thought I'll only see in another 10 years at least, if not more." He said, showing him the book he got him for his birthday.

"Most of the credit for that is for my cousin…"

Logan rolled his eyes, "what I'm trying to say is, you're a good friend, Virgil. I always feel like I can rely on you and I'm always grateful when I get to return the favor."

Virgil smiled at that, "really?" To which Logan nodded, "gee Specs… I don't know what to say."

"No need to say anything, just finish your tea while I make you some chicken soup." He said, getting up from his place on Virgil's bed.

Virgil rolled his eyes fondly as Logan walked away, "okay mom."

Logan chuckled, turning around at the doorway, "that mug better be empty when I get back or else you're in big trouble, young man."

Virgil snorted and Logan closed the door, so maybe he didn't really ruin this birthday…

[candied-peach]

ao3: “sticker time” rating: T genre: fluffy hurt/comfort (more fluff than anything) warnings: platonic analogical, age regression, spiders mention (on a sticker) description:  Logan makes everyone a schedule, starting with Virgil. (prompt: "Can you do Logan getting so much work to do (deadlines, schedules, the other sides asking him to check things, keeping track of what Thomas should know, etc) that he gets stressed and regresses. But he still knows he needs to do Important Work so he makes little crayon drawings of schedules and Important Kid Things and of his family and gives them to the sides in hopes he’ll get a sticker for doing so good?")

If Logan actually stopped to pay attention to how he felt, he would know that he is getting too stressed out and that something would have to change and fast, if he doesn't want to regress.

Unfortunately, Logan just has too much work! Deadlines pile up like crazy straws, his schedule is jam packed with things Thomas needs him to accomplish and the other sides have asked him to do, and he's so overwhelmed, he's had five cups of coffee in three hours.

It's too much. He knows it's too much, but by the time that really sinks in, it's too late.

Logan has regressed.

"Oh no," he says, his voice childishly high pitched. The words on the screen swim before his tired eyes and before he can stop himself, he finds himself closing his laptop. His laptop is for important adult things, and he's not an adult right now, as much as he would like to be. He knows why he's a child right now. He's put himself under too much stress. It's a coping mechanism. It doesn't make it any easier, although he supposes he could at least thank some deity for small favors- he hasn't actually ended up in the body of a child this time. He hates when that happens. He has a hard time reaching the doorknob to his room, and that makes it harder to ask for help.

But he can't go and talk to his family anyway. Not yet. He's not done with his schedules. And okay, maybe he can't make his real schedules, but that doesn't mean he can't come up with something, right? He pulls out a fresh pack of pastel construction paper from his special desk drawer that has all his regression office supplies, as well as wavy scissors and a 48 pack of crayons. Maybe he can make everyone a new schedule out of this, and then- Logan smiles in hopeful anticipation, already cutting out the first schedule. Maybe he can get a sticker.

He gets stickers sometimes for being good. They're usually planetary stickers, although sometimes Patton will bequeath him a gold star sticker for being exceptionally good. He beams. That would be the best, but he knows better than to ask for one. They always come at the most unexpected of times, and that is what makes them so special. It wouldn't be as special if he just asked for one.

He bends his head over his work, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he carefully writes. Everything has to be perfect, down to the stickers he places on each schedule (for all of the others deserve stickers, too, and he has a sticker pack that's perfect for each side, even Remus once he discovered that Remus likes cephalopods).

When he's finished, Logan carefully takes each schedule in hand and marches out of his room in search of the others. He's wearing his star barrette, a subtle sign that he's regressed that the others have all agreed was a good idea because Logan wasn't necessarily obvious when he was regressed. Not enough to risk it anyway.

"Hey, Lo," Virgil says, perched on the kitchen counter. His eyes flick to the star barrette and he smiles. "Whatcha got there?"

"Schedules," he announces, then shyly hands Virgil his. It's on lavender construction paper and in dark purple crayon, he has carefully lettered in:

Morning: Work for Thomas

Afternoon: Free time with Logan :)

and added a spider sticker. This spider sticker is cute enough that not even Patton gets too freaked out by them, although Virgil still tends to hide them from him.

"Thanks, buddy," Virgil says, tousling his hair the way he likes. "That's really sweet of you to write out my schedule like that. Sticker time?"

"Sticker time!" Logan agrees enthusiastically. Virgil rummages around in the pocket of his hoodie for a minute before pulling out a page of holographic planet stickers. He pulls the kitchen scissors out of a drawer and carefully cuts one out, handing it to Logan. The paper backing ensures that Logan can put it wherever he wants, and he gleefully pockets it.

"Thank you," he says, beaming. "Wanna help with the rest?" He flaps the rest of the stack of schedules. Virgil hops off the counter.

"Sure thing, little astronaut," he says. "I think Patton's in the living room, wanna get him next?"

Hand in hand, Logan happily agrees, the stress of the morning already starting to disappear.

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

if you’re going my way, i’ll go with you - chapter 9

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas, minor/background OCs Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical, Dukeceit, platonic Loceit and Intrulogical, platonic/parental Prinxiety and Logince Warnings: Language, very non-graphic injuries, a few extremely vague references to child abuse. Word count: 3384

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

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–

Chapter 9

Logan made quick work of his investigation of Count Ruthless’s lair. He didn’t need to bother with minions, of course—no minion who valued their skin would ever challenge a superhero, let alone Dr. Logic. Besides, most of them seemed to be concerned with vacating the premises at top speed and could not care less about Logan making his way to the heart of the lair.

The Count, Logan was unsurprised to discover, owned very little tech that was of real interest to him, but there were several pieces Logan deemed it best to remove from circulation among the villainy of Sandersville. Virgil would no doubt be unhappy with this, but he had promised Logan first pick.

Once he had selected the items he wanted, Logan loaded them into a cart and took it back to the rooftop. He’d scheduled a bot earlier in the day to arrive here precisely when he needed it, and sure enough, it was right on time. Transferring the cart to the bot and sending it back to his lab was a simple matter. After sending it on its way, he crossed the rooftop back to Virgil’s prone form to check on him.

Virgil was still unconscious. His pulse was steady, and his breaths were long and even. The device Logan had used to knock him out, a new model he’d been working on that was small enough to conceal in his hand, had worked beautifully; it should leave him with no unpleasant side effects upon awakening. However, it would likely be another hour or two before Virgil came to—in order to eliminate all unwanted side effects, Logan had had to increase the minimum time the device affected its victims for.

Having been prepared for this, Logan clipped one of his stock invisibility devices onto Virgil’s belt. He arranged Virgil’s arms into a more comfortable position, so that they would not cramp by the time he woke up, and tucked a note into his hand. On it, he had printed the dictionary definition of the word “prank.”

He turned on the invisibility device so that Virgil would not be discovered in his vulnerable state, then took off from the rooftop and flew across the city back to his lab to wrap up his duties for the day. All in all, everything had worked out beautifully.

***

The bot and the cart full of tech were both waiting outside the outermost set of doors to his lab. Logan frowned to himself. Remus ought to have seen the notification that something was outside and let the bot in by now. That was odd.

But the reason for the delay became evident when he made his way into the lab proper and discovered Remus, perched in Janus’s lap, cupping their face in his hands and trading soft words and giggles and kisses with them.

Logan rolled his eyes and cleared his throat loudly. Janus started so violently the chair went skidding a few inches and Remus fell right off of it, landing on his tailbone.

“Oh, hi Doc!” Remus greeted cheerily from the floor without so much as a wince. He waved up at Logan as Janus composed himself in an excessively dignified manner, trying to act like he hadn’t been startled at all.

“Reflection, I have no desire to revoke your access to my lab, but every day you find new ways to test me,” Logan told Janus as Remus got to his feet and brushed himself off. “We just discussed this.”

“Actually, it’s just the same way a lot of different times,” Remus pointed out, taking an instinctive-looking step to the side that put himself in front of Janus. It was a remarkably subtle movement—the casual slide seemed perfectly natural. Only the slight line of tension in Remus’s shoulders gave his anxious state away.

Logan frowned to himself, a protective feeling nudging away some of his irritation with his intern. He knew what this type of behavior stemmed from, and though he’d offered what he could to help remedy it, that made him no less angry on Remus’s behalf for what had caused it.

“It’s mostly my fault, anyway,” Remus added, greatly increasing the strength of the emotion Logan was experiencing. “Don’t get her in trouble. Please.”

“Neither of you are ‘in trouble,’ Remus,” Logan assured the younger man gently. “I am merely exasperated.” He directed the bot towards one of the storage rooms and went to power his main computer all the way down for the day. “And you certainly do not bear a higher share of responsibility in this matter than Reflection does—you never leave your workspace to seek him out. But, to be clear: I would appreciate it if you would incorporate my feedback into future actions, but I have no intention of meting out unpleasant consequences for you, now or ever.”

“Okay,” Remus said after a considering pause. “Thanks.”

“So I can do what I want,” Janus put in, sounding very pleased.

“No.” Logan pointed at her. “You I am annoyed with. If you continue testing me, I may actually revoke your access to the lab for a day or two to make my point.”

Janus pouted at him. “Meanie.”

“I feel I have been extremely lenient on this matter up to this point in time, actually,” Logan informed her.

“Well, I could just put on your face. Or his.” Janus pointed at Remus. “You can’t ban yourself from your lab, so you can’t keep me out.” He grinned triumphantly.

“I’ve actually developed bio-scanning capabilities that can detect the shapeshifter gene,” Logan informed them. “So I can, in fact, keep you out if I should desire to do so.”

“What?” Janus all but shrieked, absolutely scandalized. “You said it blends in and hides! You said that mimicking DNA was one of my key strengths!”

“Precisely,” Logan said, greatly amused. “That is why it took me a decade to develop something that could consistently and reliably identify it.”

“And you just didn’t tell me you had this?” Janus flung his hands in the air.

“I was planning to save it for an opportune moment.” Logan gave them a teasing smile. “But drawing this reaction from you is in fact entertaining enough to suffice.”

“You’re awful,” Janus told him, which Logan knew was a compliment. “Can you show me how it works?”

“I would be happy to. However, not today.” Without further preamble, Logan took off his labcoat and hung it in its place on the wall.

“…Whatcha doing, Doc?” Remus asked, clearly unsure if he was supposed to know why Logan was preparing to leave or if his confusion was well-founded.

“I have some personal matters that need my attention, and will be unavailable for the rest of the day,” Logan explained. “I should be back to a normal schedule tomorrow. Anyone trying to reach me should be directed to try again in the morning. For now, I’d like you to put off your normal work for the remainder of the day and instead begin cataloguing the assets I’ve just brought in. They are various pieces of supervillain tech reclaimed from the lair of Count Ruthless.”

“Got it,” Remus said with a nod, getting to his feet at once and heading for the back room where the cart was. For all his time spent flirting with Janus on the clock, he was a busy worker once he set himself to a particular task.

Sometimes too busy. Logan had not forgotten the day, a month or two after he’d initially taken Remus on, when he’d arrived at the lab in the morning to discover that Remus was still busily working away, having forgotten to go home at all or even to sleep.

“Remus,” Logan called.

Remus paused and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, Doc?”

“Remember to go home on time and to prioritize fulfilling your need for food and sleep,” Logan said. “It is more than fine if your task is unfinished today.”

“Sure, sure,” Remus said dismissively, then visibly reined himself in. “I mean—okay. I’ll try and remember.” He hesitated. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Of course,” Logan assured him.

***

After bidding goodbye to both Remus and Janus, Logan made a quick stop at his official Dr. Logic apartment, which he kept in order to maintain the privacy of his actual apartment. He shed his work attire in favor of a simple turtleneck and pair of slacks and replaced his contact lenses with glasses, then left the apartment by the secret exit. From there, he then made his way to the overdramatic tower that Virgil made his home in.

Waiting until there was nobody on the street to witness him—though this was not a long wait; people generally avoided the Nightmare’s lair at all costs—Logan stepped onto the grounds, waiting just a second before continuing. The security system should recognize that he was out of costume, and therefore had clearance to access the building, but it was always best to make sure. Having satisfied himself that he was not about to be obliterated via laser, he made his way up the steps and let himself in.

He knocked on the door of Virgil’s penthouse-style living quarters as he let himself into that a moment later.

Roman’s head, the only part of him visible over the back of the couch, swiveled at once. “Oh!” He waved as Thomas reached to pause the television. “Hi, Doc—tor…” Roman trailed off, little brow wrinkling in confusion as he clearly remembered mid-sentence the instruction not to use Logan’s hero name when he was out of costume.

“Good afternoon,” Logan said. He glanced around. “Virgil has not yet returned, I take it?”

“No,” Thomas said. Something in Logan’s tone must have been off, because Thomas squinted at him. “Do you… know something about that?”

“I have no idea what you are insinuating,” Logan said blandly. “I’m sure he will be back soon. Perhaps in approximately three and a half minutes.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Fine. Be like that. Supers,” he mumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Logan made his way to sit beside Roman on the sofa. “How are you doing physically?” he inquired.

“Um, good. I had more of the painkillers at lunchtime.” Roman bounced a little. “I’ve been watching so much She-Ra! Because Virgil said you said I should rest. And not go to school. But Virgil says he’s going to make it so I can just go to school again later without getting in trouble. Have you seen She-Ra? Besides what I showed you yesterday? Do you know Sea Hawk?”

“I do not,” Logan said. “May I—“

“He’s a very handsome man,” Roman said eagerly, “and he has a shiny mustache and he sings! He’s my favorite. Um, one of my favorites.” His eyes widened. “Oh, I—I think I interrupted, sorry.” His shoulders drew inwards.

“It is fine. He sounds fascinating,” Logan said politely, though to be honest he could hardly care less about the show or its characters. “May I examine your bandages?”

“Sure.” Roman stilled his bouncing, allowing Logan to lift the child’s t-shirt off his belly and assess the state of his bandages.

“They seem to have held up well,” he commented, pleased. “You bathed with them on, correct? How did they hold up against exposure to water?”

“Good. I don’t think the water got in at all,” Roman said.

“Excellent. They still need to be changed, at the very least so I can examine the wound itself, but that is good to know. How are—“

The door opened.

Roman lit up. “Virgil!”

“Hi, kid,” Virgil said lightly, closing the door behind himself. He fixed Logan with a pointed stare and crossed his arms. “Hi, babe.”

“Hello, dear,” Logan said, struggling not to laugh.

Virgil tossed something through the air towards him. “I think this is yours.”

Upon catching it, Logan discovered it to be the invisibility device. “How thoughtful of you to find that for me,” he said innocently.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Thomas interjected.

“Oh, Virgil is just very happy to see me,” Logan said, forcing down a smirk as he went to set down the invisibility device on the kitchen island for safekeeping.

Virgil came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist, hooking his chin over Logan’s shoulder. “You, my love,” he murmured, punctuating his words with a tender kiss pressed to the side of Logan’s neck and speaking too quietly for Roman or Thomas to hear, “are an asshole.”

“Hmm.” Logan felt he had to concede this point. “Perhaps.” He paused. “But it was funny.”

He felt Virgil smile against his neck. “It was kind of funny,” he allowed. “After I woke up and figured out what had happened.”

“And you did say I could have first pick of the technology in the lair,” Logan added.

“Well, I somehow imagined that, like, you would let me know what you wanted and I’d give it to you,” Virgil said, sounding greatly amused. He pressed his cheek against Logan’s. “Not that you’d knock me out and go get it yourself.”

Logan turned his head to peck Virgil on the lips. “I am nothing if not proactive, dearest.” He tugged Virgil’s hands gently away from where they were still clasped around his waist. “I would like to continue attending to my patient now.”

Virgil whined in half-joking protest, but relinquished his hold on Logan with one final kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to go change out of this,” he announced, gesturing at his supersuit, and made his way down the hall to his bedroom as Logan rejoined Roman on the couch.

In short order, Logan had unbandaged Roman’s wound and begun examining it to ensure that there were no signs of infection, Roman watching with fascination all the while.

Virgil stepped back into the room moments later, now clad in a t-shirt and jeans. After an assessing look at Logan and Roman, he evidently came to the correct conclusion that Logan had matters under control. Instead of immediately joining them, he beckoned Thomas to the side and began a hushed conversation about the morning’s events.

Logan ignored this in favor of giving his attention to his young patient. Roman’s wound was doing well—exceedingly well. In fact—

“Were you aware you have superhealing?” Logan inquired of Roman.

“What?” Roman said. “I do?” He stared down at the stitches in his stomach with renewed interest and reached to poke at them.

Logan caught the child’s hand, suppressing both his initial flash of panic at the action and his sigh of relief at successfully preventing it. (Was this what parenthood was like? No wonder Janus could be so high-strung.) “Touching your injury with your bare hands could infect it. Please do not,” he instructed Roman.

“Oh.” Roman bit the inside of his cheek. “Sorry.”

“It is alright. No harm has been done, and now you know,” Logan assured him. “But to answer your question: yes, you clearly have superhealing. I would have expected this amount of progress to take a week under normal circumstances.”

“Cool!” Roman enthused, visibly forcing himself to keep his hands away from his injury as he continued to examine it.

Logan nodded, refraining from telling the boy that this was not at all an uncommon power. His state of delighted wonder was endearing, and Logan felt strongly inclined to preserve it. “How are your pain levels?” he asked instead.

“Fine,” Roman said quickly. “I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad. And I had painkillers anyway.” He hesitated. “I think it’s better today than yesterday?”

“That is encouraging news,” Logan said, filing away the it wasn’t that bad to discuss with Virgil later, because it certainly had been that bad, particularly for a child who barely qualified as tweenaged. He pulled out a cleaning wipe and began sponging carefully at the wound. “Have you noticed any other powers that you are in possession of?” he asked. Roman’s main power was clearly the glitter ability, but his secondary powers could be anything, and the number of them could vary.

“Um. I can fly?” Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t—” He hesitated, looking away; Logan suspected he was deliberating how to word his sentence. “Didn’t think it was a good idea to experiment and try and find out.” He looked back at Logan. “I just knew I could fly and make glitter stuff because I found those out by accident.”

“Hm. Well, no matter—the assessment new students undergo at Brennan is quite thorough. They will compile a full list of your powers when you enroll.” Logan glanced over at Virgil, who had just finished debriefing Thomas and sent him to do some task relating to the business with Count Ruthless. “He is being enrolled there, I assume?”

“Obviously,” Virgil said. He came over to sit on the sofa near Logan and Roman. “I was thinking we could work on that tomorrow, Roman?”

“That’s the powers school, right?” Roman asked.

“It is indeed,” Logan confirmed. He set down the wipes, satisfied with the state of Roman’s injury for the time being. “Let’s bandage this back up and check on it again in another day or two.”

“Mmkay.” Roman sat still as Logan began to rebandage the injury.

It was quiet as Logan worked. His thoughts, however, were whirring back and forth with an indecisiveness and hesitancy he rarely experienced.

His identity was secret; that was the point of it. The fewer people who knew anything about him, the better. And a child had far less secret-keeping ability than an adult.

All the same, Roman had to call him something. At this point, it seemed certain that that Logan would continue interacting with this boy on a regular basis. And he’d proven himself to be capable of discretion.

He drew in a long breath, making up his mind at last. “My name,” he said to Roman, voice quiet because he was taking such care to keep it steady, “is Logan Crofter. When I am out of costume, you may use it to address me.” Logan held Roman’s gaze and spoke firmly. “I expect that you will keep this private, and do your utmost to ensure that my name and my personal information are never associated with the title of Dr. Logic. Clear?”

Roman nodded several times, eyes wide. “I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

“Good.” Logan examined the bandages one last time. “These should be sufficient for the time being.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, tugging his shirt down from where it had been rucked up under his armpits. “Why is your watch trans?” he asked, staring at Logan’s hands.

Oh. That was right; the strap of Logan’s watch had the trans pride flag running along it. “Because I am a transgender man,” he said simply, shrugging.

Roman’s eyes went huge. “Wait, really?” he gasped, delighted.

“Yes.” Logan hesitated for a moment. “That is another piece of information that I expect you to keep private,” he added. “I prefer for people to know as little identifying information about Dr. Logic as possible.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” Roman nodded. “I get that,” he said, far too seriously. “You just gotta keep things secret sometimes, you know?”

Logan felt a sharp, strong ache in his chest at the seriousness of the little boy’s tone and the solemn look in his brown eyes. He reached over and cupped Roman’s warm little cheek in his hand. “Sometimes,” he agreed. “It’s better when you have friends to confide in.”

Roman made a noise of consideration. “That makes sense,” he agreed.

“Is he all good, L?” Virgil inquired.

“Yes,” Logan confirmed. “He is doing very well.”

“Cool. Sounds great. Can I grab you for a minute?” He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “I want to talk with you about something.”

Logan raised his eyebrows at the vagueness of this phrasing. “Certainly,” he agreed.

“Awesome. Hey, Roman,” Virgil said, “why don’t you finish up this episode of She-Ra while I talk with Logan?”

Roman frowned for just an instant, and then it was gone. “Okay,” he said, voice sweet and blandly accommodating.

Virgil hesitated, brow furrowing, but did not press matters, beckoning Logan down the hall to his bedroom as Roman picked up the remote.

-

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @theimprobabledreamersworld @the-sympathetic-villain @just-a-little-anxious @your-local-crackhead-gremlin @remy-the-lemon-berry @midnightstorm-underthe-moon @crazydemigod666  @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @virgil-is-verge @simplestoryteller @oblivionartworks  @so-youre-a-rock-with-issues @emoprincey @theblackcatscratchpost @biwithapie @poettheythem

[sidespromptblog]

Orange Eyed Delight

Summary: Virgil finds out about Logan's orange eyes.

Warnings: Minor blood and injury, hurt/comfort, negative self-talk (From Logan), and anxiousness (Virgil). 

Word Count: 2,318

AO3 LINK

The first time that Virgil saw it, it was an accident. 

He’d been sitting on the counter when it had happened, with Logan in the kitchen washing the dishes from the morning after Roman and Patton had just left. The steam rising from the hot water pouring into the sink had made Logan’s glasses foggy, until the logical side had eventually just decided to set them on the counter next to all of the clean dishes he had already finished. His was flipped over his shoulder, so that it wouldn’t dip into the water. And the long sleeves of the other’s shirt had been pushed up over his elbows, the occasional splatter of water made a dark stain on his black shirt. The noises of the dishes clanking together in the soapy water, and Logan’s small soft mumbles was a comfortable background noise to Virgil where he could just be on his phone in a comfortable silence with the other side. 

Logan seemed to get it, as he didn’t bother trying to engage in conversation with Virgil. 

It was their usual routine, a comfortable routine. 

Then there was a crash, and a loud splash of water shortly followed by a surprised sound from Logan. 

In an instant Virgil’s attention snapped up from his phone, and to the other side who was cradling his hand close to his chest in a wounded fashion. 

“Logan?!” Virgil jumped from the counter, quickly rushing over to the logical side. “What happened?” 

A short growl fell from Logan’s clenched teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut, a look of pain molded on every crease of his face. “My mug..” Logan managed to get out, before gesturing with his elbow to the pile of broken ceramic in the bottom of the sink. “It broke.” 

Virgil looked down first into the sink to all the shards that remained to be a dangerous hazard to anyone that touched them, and then at Logan’s hand. The heated red skin of the other’s palm had a long thin cut across it, with blood already starting to pool out of it. Similar smaller cuts peppered all over his fingers, as if Logan had attempted to pick up the shards that laid in the hot water purely out of instinct before realizing what he was doing. 

It was a painful looking cut, Virgil could give it that. 

“Shit L, fuck...” Virgil muttered, quickly pulling the logical side away from the sink and towards the kitchen to sit down. “Shit, I’ll be right back.” He said in a way that was clearly telling the other side not to move, or else. Just from the look on Virgil’s face, he could tell that the other side wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, Logan wasn’t stupid after all. 

Barely even glancing at Logan, Virgil was off. Rushing into the bathroom, he blindly scavenged for the first aid kit that was always in the bathroom per his own request. He had always made sure that every bathroom, even the ones in their own room had first aid kits in them. He had told the others over and over again that should something bad happen he needed to know that there was a first aid kit in there, they hadn’t had a chance yet to put one in the kitchen. The one place that statistically, most accidents happened in a home. Stupid.. Stupid. That should have been the first place that he had put one, that way he could have just grabbed it and helped Logan right then and there instead of just leaving him where.. Where…

There had been a lot of blood in Logan’s hand, and it was still bleeding. 

What if he bled out while Virgil was taking his time here?

“Come on… come on…” Virgil snarled to himself, digging through the messy underside of the sink cabinet even more frantically. “He’s not dying, he’s not. It’s just a cut, a cut that just needs to be sanitized and bandaged. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s…” Virgil seized the handle of the kit the moment he caught sight of it. “Gotcha!” 

Scrambling out of the bathroom, Virgil ran like a bat out of hell to get back to Logan.

By the time that he got to the logical side, Logan had unclenched his entire body as he stared down at his bleeding hand. His jaw was fixed firmly and his eyebrows furrowed, and from where he stood Virgil could practically feel the anger radiating from him like the heat from hot boiling water. Logan’s breathing was a practiced calmness, the way that it strategically rose and fell told Virgil that the other side was trying with everything he had to keep his temper under control. 

“I got the first aid kit Lo,” Slowly moving forward he knelt in front of the logical side, before unpacking everything inside. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?”  

For a moment there wasn’t an answer, and Virgil mostly figured that Logan was just keeping quiet due to the pain he must’ve been feeling. 

And then Logan sniffed, making Virgil look up from sanitizing the long cut that ran along his palm. “It was my favorite cup… and now it's broken.”  An unreadable look passed over Logan’s face, and his fingers curled just barely brushing against Virgil’s as he passed the alcohol wipe over his hand once more. “I’m sorry…”  

Virgil hastily looked up towards Logan’s eyes, alarm squeezing his chest. “Sorry? Sorry for wha-” 

Before he even realized it, the words died on his tongue and a whole new feeling flooded through him. His lungs seized in that moment not allowing him to take a single breath, and his heart thudded against his ribcage like a terrified bird trying to get out. It took conscious effort for him to let his mouth hang open, or for him to not jerk his entire body away from the logical side like he had just been struck. 

The last little remnants of orange were fading from Logan’s eyes, the hellish orange fading into the sad warm brown color that Virgil knew so well.

What was happening? Was Logan being taken over? Was he turning into a dark side? Was he… was he splitting in half like Roman and Remus? Was he okay? Was he even Logan anymore? Was he hurt even more on the inside than he was on the outside?

A million thoughts and questions ran through his head, all of them coming to a shrieking halt as soon as he managed to force himself look back at Logan. A feeling of hurt shot through him at the inner betrayal he had felt towards Logan, especially considering that Logan’s eyes looked normal now… as if nothing had even happened.

Unburdened by Virgil’s inner treacherous thoughts Logan merely shrugged, obviously not noticing Virgil's insane reaction, or perhaps just not knowing the shade of color that his eyes had just been. “Sorry for inconveniencing you, I should have been more careful so that it wouldn’t have broken in the first place.” Logan looked away, as Virgil’s body finally began to relax. “And now here I am, a new injury and I made you worry and fret over nothing...I should have been more observant of what I was doing.”

Logan… thought that his reaction was from the broken cup?

And then Logan carried on. 

“I know that I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Logan explained, as Virgil slowly began wrapping his injured hand up in a layer of gauze. “Setting too high of expectations, and expecting any of them to go through. “I keep burdening all of you with my wants and wishes, and… getting a little upset when something else happens.” Something else flashed across Logan’s face, so quick that Virgil would have missed it had he not been looking for it. “I should know this all by now, what.. what’s going to happen when I just plan things... ” Logan waved his non-injured hand, gesturing to nothing. 

Virgil couldn’t help but to feel just a little bit sad over the resignation in Logan’s voice, surely… surely he wasn’t thinking about giving up on the whole schedule thing. Logan had worked hard on that, he’d worked countless nights to make it so that Thomas have even the slightest bit of possibility of getting it done. He had completely written out things that he would have liked Thomas to do, he had.. he had gotten rid of that astrology class that Thomas had promised him that he’d take. 

And yet… even after that he hadn’t been listened to, and…

Oh.

Oh...      

“Logan.” Virgil began cautiously, “Are you… angry with us?” 

There was a beat of silence, where Logan chewed on his bottom lip before looking away from the anxious side. His silence was the only answer that Virgil needed.

There it was, plain and bold for even him to see. 

It should have been obvious to him from the start, he was literally anxiety. He picked up on even the slightest hints if someone was angry with Thomas, he had even picked up Patton’s emotions as much as the moral side tried to hide them with his cheery happiness. And somehow he hadn’t managed to see Logan’s anger, hiding and being pushed down day by day by even the slightest things that they did. How often had they said something that made him angry at them? How often did he not know just what he was feeling towards them was anger? 

They had scorned him in such a way just for throwing a paper ball at Roman. 

This.. this kind of explained everything. 

“God I’m so stupid.” Virgil muttered, heavily sitting back with an exhausting exhale.  

Logan's head snapped back, a look of shock and mismatched emotions coloring his face. “No-”

Before he could even get another word out, Virgil shook his head, swatting the side of Logan’s leg. 

“Stooop!” Virgil groaned out, slapping his hand over his face. “I am! I am so stupid for not noticing. Of fucking course you’re angry at us Logan! You should be!” 

A pause and then: 

“What..?”

Peeking through his fingers Virgil saw Logan looking at him as if he was well and truly on his way to becoming insane, Virgil should have felt a little insulted from the look that he was receiving. But instead, he felt like he deserved it, if only for the reason that he was insane for having been so blind when it came to making sure Logan was okay. He had known that Logan needed help with his emotions, both in realizing that he was allowed to feel them, and just when they would be necessary. Of course, with all of their “help” Logan must’ve figured that any emotion that wasn’t positive should be shunned within himself and pushed down until he was convinced that it didn’t exist. 

He had been told he was allowed to be sad by Patton, but anger… 

They had never once allowed him to be angry. 

In some way, Virgil felt as if he had betrayed Logan. 

The glint of those bright orange eyes unconsciously reminded him of the other dark sides, how Janus’ one snake eye glowed a bright yellow, and how Remus’ eyes occasionally took on a toxic green color when he was up to no good. The orange couldn’t mean anything good, or even worse… if Logan thought that he no longer belonged amongst himself, Patton, and Roman. Then.. then what else was there? If Janus found out that they had basically chased Logan off, so that he was seeking solace with them… 

He’d never hear the end of it from him, a reverse Virgil he would call it. Virgil could just imagine it now…

But if that was what Logan would want… then who was Virgil to stop him? That would be hypocritical of him to even try, especially since it's common knowledge that he used to be one of them too.  He could at least try to make things better if Logan did try to leave, that way it wouldn’t just be out of the blue. This way at least he and Logan would still be alright, he could still protect Logan in this one way even if he did leave. 

Virgil knew that he’d have to force himself to not feel betrayed if Logan did leave. 

They’d done this to themselves after all. 

Nevertheless, he finally stood up and straightened his back.  After a long moment of consideration he finally looked into Logan’s eyes. “Logan.” He firmly said, “Logan, look at me.” The moment that the logical side finally did, Virgil nodded. “Anger isn’t anything bad,” He began, only shooting him a look when it seemed like Logan was going to interrupt. “It’s your brain’s way of trying to tell you that you deserve better, and that the way that someone is treating you is wrong. It's a self defense measure, and you’ve been ignoring it and letting us walk all over you. For years Logan.” 

Logan was silent, his brown eyes trained on Virgil’s face. He was finally listening, intensively. 

“Listen to it, if we don’t listen to you… listen to it.” Virgil got closer, gripping Logan’s shoulders as he did. “If we ignore and don’t listen to you when we should be… be angry. Let us know so that we will listen. Do whatever you have to, I won’t be angry. Because I’ll know that we deserved it, and we had it coming.” Virgil gave him the tiniest shake possible. “Raise hell.” 

The second time that Virgil sees the orange eyes, he supposes that it's no longer an accident. 

The uncertain look on Logan’s face slowly morphed into something else, as a burning look of determination and certainty finally sparked inside of him. 

Bright angry orange bled into the calm brown, completely overtaking it. 

“Okay.”

[annaizscribbling]

Angst : Logan vs the vague sense of having to do Something, Anything, Everything but not knowing what to do, or worse, knowing what to do and not doing it, like you’re locked inside a bubble and you’re screaming to b let out but instead u just watch time fly by and the thing doesn’t get done

Thank you for the prompt! I kinda focused on the comfort in this surprise Hurt/Comfort. This was really cathartic to write!

Summary: Logan can't start the huge pile of work he needs to get done and it's wearing on him. Virgil lends a hand.

Lowkey big brother Virgil.

Wordcount is 1292

Heads up for spiraling, anxiousness, and some self deprecation.

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

Logan’s fingers drummed along the side of his desk at a frantic pace. The wobbly rhythm did not comfort him. It did not relieve the clawing urgency that was piercing the middle of his chest.

The stack of unfinished paperwork was looming on one side of the desk while the other side was occupied by his laptop, equally brimming with a metaphorical mountain of tasks. They all sprung on him at once. They all demanded his attention. They all rang with urgency.

He didn’t sleep last night. Not enough.

The new tasks all came in just moments before he was going to bed the night before. Logically, he knew that it would just have to wait until morning, as he couldn’t sacrifice his sleep schedule that easily, and it would be tough but perfectly possible to finish it in the morning.

That information did not stop his mind from racing all night.

It was only a matter of minutes until he had spiraled further than he intended, and sleep would evade him.

All he could do was lay there as his dread grew and grew. He tried mentally sorting what order he should tackle the work in, what steps he would take, how many hours he could spend on each category.

He just let himself sink into a dizzy panic as he soaked in just how much work he would have to do the coming hours. The time kept slipping away more and more each time he anxiously glanced at the clock.

Logan gave in to his nerves at 5:00 in the morning and drank much more coffee that Patton would approve of on a normal day, much less one where Logan was so high strung.

So, there he was, too much caffeine and one sleepless night later, sitting at his desk, spiraling and thrumming his fingers.

There was too much to do. Too many tasks. Too little time.

His heartrate was elevated more than comfortable. His whole being felt buzzy and upset. Caffeine on top of sleep deprivation.

Not enough time. Not enough strength. Not enough help.

The task was so big he couldn’t begin.

Even though he knew that his only course of action should be starting.

His fingers drummed faster in a lopsided beat.

Logan needed to start. He needed to begin. He needed to start so that the sharp buzzing feeling of urgency will relinquish its hold on his heart.

But the feeling was so miserable he couldn’t start.

But the feeling won’t go away until he finishes.

Oh, what a wicked contradiction.

Now he would never start. Logan will only stare aimlessly, drum his fingers, sit uselessly, and rot away into a worthless husk as the task grows with each coming day.

He can’t start, but he can’t walk away.

His blood felt electric with dread. His head throbbed with pain.

Was he doomed to never escape his agony?

A firm hand on his right shoulder shocked him out of his miserable thoughts.

“C’mon Buddy, talk to me.” A gruff but far from unkind voice said beside his ear.

“Virgil?” Logan’s own voice sounded raspy and sore, tight with unshed tears.

“Yeah,” Virgil said gently, some relief spreading over his face, “How about we go chill somewhere? I think you need a sec to relax.”

Logan’s anxious heart jumped in his chest. “No, I-I can’t. I really shouldn’t, but thank you, Virgil. I appreciate your intervention, but I really need to work.”

Virgil raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You just said ‘work’ with as much enthusiasm as me saying ‘phone call’.”

“That was not my intention, I apologize.” He said quietly. “But it’s probably best that you leave me, I really must be at least a little productive today.”

“Dude,” Virgil bit the inside of his mouth unsurely, “You look really tired and out of it, and you didn’t even notice me until I shook you. You’re stressed out of your mind.”

“I’m alright, Virgil.”

“Who’s the expert in stress here?” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Me. That’s who. And I know a stress overload when I see one. It’ll only get worse if you keep doing the thing that’s causing it. So break time, let’s go.” He jutted his chin toward the door, gesturing for Logan to get up.

“No, Virgil.” The bespeckled side said gravely. “I’m fine, but if I was stressed it wouldn’t be due to work,” He swallowed. “It would only ever be due to a lack of work,”

Virgil crossed his arms, unamused but quite determined. “So that’s how we’re doing this?” he huffed. “Fine. Hypothetically, how would a lack of work stress you out?”

“It’s unimportant.”

“Logan come on.”

Logan suddenly felt very, very small under Virgil’s withering stare in addition to the already heavy burden of his job. His voice sank to a pathetic whimper. “It’s too much,” he said, voice breaking as he did. “I can’t start.”

Virgil’s features softened quietly.

Logan rubbed his moist eyes beneath his glasses. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. There’s so much work and I can’t start, but because of that I can’t finish.”

His friend put his steadying hands on his shoulders again and gently rubbed circles into his back as Logan continued.

“I didn’t sleep, I can’t calm down, and I can’t just start. It’s pathetic.” Logan spat, fury at his own actions settled atop the anxiety already in his system.

“No, it isn’t.” Virgil said in his usual gravelly voice. “You’re stressed and tired from a boatload of surprise work. Your reaction is normal and you’re just too overwhelmed to see that right now, which is perfectly fine.”

A new fiery streak of anger shot down his stomach. “But-”

“Nope.” Virgil cut him off almost cheerfully . “You’re about to pull a ‘me’ and start self-deprecating, so I’m stopping you there. It’s fine that you’re overwhelmed and it’s fine that you need some help and a break.”

Logan gritted his teeth, seething. “Take a break from what? I haven’t done a single thing today.”

“You need a break from putting all of your energy into panicking. Let’s go.”

“But-”

“L, if you don’t cooperate, I swear that I will carry you out myself.” Virgil threatened.

“I need to work.”

It was in that moment he learned not to ever call Virgil’s bluff, as he was promptly and unceremoniously picked up from under his arms and carried out of the room like a misbehaving cat. His legs dangled some distance above the ground.

Virgil deposited him on the couch in the living room where he just blinked, still startled and confused.

“You’re strong.” Logan said blankly.

“I’m fight or flight.” he shrugged. “Sometimes I choose fight and you gotta be buff to help guarantee a win.”

“Oh.”

“You’re also short so that helps.”

Logan glared.

“Now I’m going to grab Janus and let him wrangle everybody else from the imagination.”

“Is that where everyone is?”

“Yup, and once they get here, we’ll help tackle that workload together.”

Logan drummed his fingers on the side of the couch, deliberating.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Virgil asked delicately as he slipped onto the couch beside his friend.

“I don’t wish to burden all of you just because I couldn’t handle my job.” He admitted in a raspy whisper, throat tight once more.

Virgil thunked his chin atop of Logan’s messy hair, smiling fondly. “You aren’t a burden, Logan. You’re family.”

He pulled away just enough to look into Logan’s exhausted brown eyes. “And you know us, we do anything for family.”

Logan smiled weakly and shut his eyes, letting tired tears leak out. He leaned against Virgil’s shoulder.

“We’ve got you Buddy.” Virgil whispered as he tugged him closer to ruffle his hair, “We’ve got you.”