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edupunkn00b · 2 months

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Meus ex Machina, Chapter 8: Reaching

A public domain image of two hands reaching for each other. The background is colored with indigo blue and neon green light.

Prev - Reaching - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated: T - WC: 2472 - CW: non-graphic discussion of self harm

Some people can't help but reach out, no matter how many times they're burned. And maybe that's a good thing, in the past and now.

“And this is the kitchen, kiddo!” Patton grinned, arms open wide to show off the shiny new refrigerator and sinks he and Lucas had installed in the old house.

“I’m not your kid,” the boy muttered, hands shoved deep into patched and faded hoodie pockets. "And you're not my dad."

“Oh, well, yeah, I… I know that. I… I’m sorry. You're right.” The boy never spoke of his parents but, unlike Patton and Lucas, he'd actually known them before they abandoned him at the hospital. He almost squeezed the boy’s shoulder but pulled back at the look he—Virgil, Janus had called him—gave him.

Following Virgil’s lead, Patton tucked his own hands in his pockets and smiled just a little brighter. Man, Janus and Lucas were better with this kid than he was. He'd cast his eyes about the kitchen, looking for a distraction, when his eyes landed on the big mixer Janus had bought last week.

“You know," he said, sauntering over the kitchen and pulling out a box of Eggz and tin of margarine. "Even grown-ups get hungry.” He tried to hide it, but Patton couldn’t miss how Virgil’s were trained on the food. “How about we whip up a batch of my super-secret chocolate chip cookies?”

Virgil licked his lips, eyes narrowed. ""Chocko Chip' cookies," he said, pulling out his hands long enough to make air quotes. "Or chocolate chip?"

Patton grinned and pulled a heavy block wrapped in plasticene paper from the back of an upper cabinet. "Chocolate."

Soft footsteps announced Patton’s and V’s return from The Muse's room. V tapped an order into the cabinet and Patton spoke quietly with Silvertongue in the corner as they worked together to put away a tote of medical supplies.

Logan watched them from his med bed, eyes widening when he recognized a suture tray and a drained IV kit. V caught his gaze and gave him a little shrug. “I’mma go see how I can help Princey.” He shrugged, glancing at Patton with an odd expression. “Up on the roof. Glad to see you’re feeling a little better, Mac.”

“Let me know if you need anything, Kiddo, okay?” Patton called after him and V gave the three of them a little two-fingered salute before disappearing down the hall.

“How was he?” Logan blurted out once V had left. He gnawed at his lower lip, the barely controlled hurt on Patton’s face almost more than he could stand. The two Powereds exchanged a long look, then Janus inclined his head and followed the way V had gone.

Patton moved to Logan's side and patted his hand. The touch was warm, really warm, like holding a too-hot cup of coffee in an antique ceramic mug while waiting for it to cool. “The Muse needed stitches,” he admitted, jerking his chin toward the sharps disposal and the medical tote. “But you probably figured that.”

“Do his…” Logan’s hand twitched beneath his and Patton removed it, too quickly to stop him. “Do his powers cause him physical harm?” he continued, pushing away the ghostly echo of Patton’s warmth radiating through his skin.

“Well… Not… directly.” Patton pulled up the stool Silvertongue had used and folded his hands on his lap. His fingers were long but broad and strong-looking, with little nicks and calluses. He had a half-dozen tiny horizontal scars in various stages of healing over the backs of each hand. With a pang, Logan remembered tracing the fading scars on the backs of his own mother’s hands from her job at Entenmann's before they’d converted.

Suddenly, Patton nodded and reached for Logan’s hand again, lightly brushing his fingers. He didn’t prod Logan’s scars, but he didn’t avoid them, either. He simply treated them like any other part of his skin.

Logan inched his hand closer.

“Did Silvertongue explain his powers to you?” Logan nodded and Patton took a deep breath before continuing. “The Muse sometimes… well, often behaves erratically when the rest of the world gets into his head. It’s—”

“Overwhelming,” Logan interrupted without really meaning to.

Patton gently squeezed his hand and didn’t let go. “Yes,” he nodded. “His room is protected, no sharps, no chemicals. He…” Patton tilted his head, gaze focused on Logan’s eyes. Assessing.

“Is he suicidal?” Icy slurry pooled in his stomach.

“Not directly,” he said again and the ice spread through Logan’s veins. “He… injures himself. I don’t believe he intends to hurt himself. His… his perceptions are…” Patton shook his head. “It can be difficult to follow all his thoughts when he’s activated. He’s told me he needs to reach the sensations he picks up. But it’s all in his mind. There’s nothing to reach.”

Logan stared down at his thighs and the stumps where his legs abruptly ended. The painkillers Silvertongue had administered dulled the ever-present ache of his phantom limb pain. But even ketorolac couldn’t free him completely of the pain of injuries in limbs he no longer had. ‘Nothing to reach,’ indeed.

He frowned. But stitches? IVs? Surely that part wasn’t from his own mind. “But how?” he finally asked. “How did he cut himself? The lower levels… What’s beneath it all? Cement?”

“Stone and wood. There were carpet tacks.” Patton stroked Logan’s hand but looked away. “We thought we’d gotten them all and replaced them with adhesive. They were… old. Zinc and non-magnetic aluminum alloy that won’t interfere with the EMF shield.” He met Logan’s eyes and continued at his little nod of understanding. “That meant we couldn’t use the sensors to double check we’d gotten them all.”

“So… nothing magnetic or… electrical can go in The Muse's room?” Logan’s eyes fell on his battery-powered wheelchair tucked in the corner. “And he can’t come out?”

“No.” Patton’s whisper still managed to sound sympathetic.

“I see.” Logan’s fingers curled a little tighter around Patton’s hand, his thumb tracing swirling shapes against the back. It didn’t seem to bother him, though, so Logan didn’t stop. “The… the next time you see The Muse…” Logan finally braved a glance up at Patton’s eyes. He smiled back at him, listening.

“The next time you see him, will you tell him how sorry I am?” Tears burned his eyes, the memory of The Muse’s pain sizzling through his brain. “I—” His voice cracked and he looked away.

“Oh, Kiddo…” Patton squeezed his hand back, voice soft. “The Muse knows it was an accident. He was in your mind,” he reminded him. “He feels bad for the pain he caused you.”

“He doesn’t need to.” Logan looked up, eyes wide. “It’s not his fault. I wish…” He looked down at the broken bits of a body he'd been left with. The only way he could see The Muse and speak to him in person would be in the arms of one of the team. Even if one of them were willing to carry him, his stomach churned at just the thought of helplessly clinging to one of the Powereds, even one as kind as Patton.

He closed his eyes, head falling back against the pillow.

So worthless you can't even apologize to him. Can't even thank him for helping Silvertongue find you before the police did.

“I should let you rest,” Patton murmured. “Even with Ja—Silvertongue’s healing assistance, you’ve been through a lot and need to take it easy. Would you like me to lower the bed?”

His eyes snapped open. The med bay was like a fishbowl, surrounded on one side with the main common room, the other by the short hall to the cold steel kitchen. If he slept here, he’d be on display for the entire team. Good for people who needed close observation. Not good for him. He shook his head. “Would you bring my chair?”

“Of course.” Patton rushed to fetch it then stood next to it. “Can I—” He reached for him then let his hand lower. “How can I help you?”

Even with the med bed lowered, it was a bit of a drop down to his chair. But if he was lucky, he could make it on his own. “Perhaps… would you be willing to hold the chair steady for me?”

Nodding, Patton put one foot behind the wheel and locked his grip around the handles. Logan shimmied himself closer, scrabbling for a hold when he listed dangerously close to the opposite side of the bed. After a bit of work, he wiggled toward the edge, parallel to the seat, then pushed himself off the bed.

He landed with a quiet oof in the seat, grunting when his hip grazed an armrest.

“Are you alright?” Patton asked, hands fluttering closer before pulling them away.

Logan smiled, tight and not quite able to speak in a normal tone as pain radiated over his hip and down his phantom leg. He reached over his shoulder to pat the Powered’s hand and nodded. “I’m good,” he managed and turned on the chair motors. “Thank you. For your help.”

“Absolutely anytime, Machina.” Patton gave him another smile. “Anything you need, please don’t ever be afraid to ask.” He watched quietly while Logan turned his chair and moved to the hallway. “I’ll call you for dinner in about an hour?”

“Actually,” he started, then turned around to face him again. Patton’s brow pinched with worry but he waited and listened. “Would you call me when it’s time to…” He shrugged and looked toward the common room. “Perhaps I can help set the table?” Logan tried to smile and moved his chair back and forth a few inches at top speed. “Use my unfair advantage?”

Patton chuckled and nodded. “You got it, Machina. I’ll call for you. Get some rest in the meantime.”

“I will. Thank you.” Logan’s smile strengthened, then he turned with a little nod and rolled down the hall. When Logan returned to his room, though, he didn’t lie down. Instead, he closed the door and wheeled himself to the window.

The Prince’s Illusion only worked one way and though from the outside, Logan sat on the other side of a boarded up bay window, he could see perfectly through to the violets and daisies growing outside. The sill was nearly the same height as the seat of his chair and it had only taken him a few days’ practice to work out the best way to wiggle out of his wheelchair and onto the soft cushions.

He hadn’t yet worked out which of them had set this up. While the window frame was old, likely renovated from the original structure, the pillows were stitched from the same durable ecosynth cloth as the Mad Lads’ suits. Throughout the house, there were other window seats and benches, but none at this height. They'd built this for him.

Leaning back against the pillows in the deep window seat, Logan closed his eyes. If the prisoner in the basement wasn’t quite a prisoner, what did that mean for the rest of the team’s behavior? Was all of this, the accommodations, the care… Was it all… real?

And how would he ever make amends for not once, but twice, harming one of their own?

Despite Logan's best efforts to stay awake, it felt like only seconds later when Patton’s soft voice spilled from the comms speaker in his room. He jerked upright, hand reaching automatically for the spot next to his thigh for his chair’s control box. His fingers closed on air.

A half-second of panic later, Logan remembered where he was and took a deep breath. “I’ll be right there,” he called back. Moving carefully, he slid back into his chair and hurried out to the kitchen.

His stomach grumbled before he’d even gotten past the med bay, the aromas of fresh tomatoes and beans from the team’s backyard garden blending with cumin and cayenne. Patton smiled at him, stirring a bubbling pot, and gestured to a stack of bowls, napkins, and utensils on a low counter.

“If you meant it, it would be a big help if you set the table. Ultraviolet and The Prince are up on the roof and Silvertongue’s on a call.”

“Of course I meant it.” Two at a time, Logan transferred the stack of bowls to his lap, then added the napkins. Taken together, he was able to lean and use his stub of a left arm to hold them steady while he steered his chair to the table.

He steadfastly ignored the way Patton pretended not to monitor his progress. He did appreciate, though, how he’d been spared the indignity of having to wait as he took down the dishes for him and placed them in his lap as though he were a child.

Setting the table went slowly and by the time he’d finished and returned to the kitchen for cups, Patton had already transferred the chili to a serving bowl and was filling a pitcher with ice and the sweet electrolyte drink the team favored. Though reluctant to admit it, Logan had begun to enjoy it with their meals, as well.

What Patton hadn’t done, though, was pull down the drinkware from their high cabinet. After scanning the counters one last time in case he’d somehow missed them, Logan swallowed his dwindling pride and looked up at Patton. “Would you mind getting the cups down for me?”

“Oh, right!” He sealed the lid on the pitcher but didn’t move from his work. “We transferred them to the cabinet by the fridge.” Patton pointed to the low cabinets in easy reach from his chair. “Silvertongue mentioned your bloodwork showed signs of chronic dehydration. Figure it’s easier for you to drink more if you can reach them yourself.”

Logan opened the first cabinet. Recessed lights glowed, revealing stacks of cups and bowls and plates. The front of the shelf ended in an inch-tall lip and, experimentally, Logan tugged it. It rolled toward, putting the dishes in easy reach. He looked up at Patton, eyes wide.

Patton shrugged. “I’m still working on the rest of the kitchen, but we’ve got all the basics there.”

“This is…” Logan bent in his chair to look under the cabinet and slid the shelf back and forth. The rollers were pneumatically assisted, allowing him to use just a single finger to move it. “This is very thoughtful, Patton. Thank you.”

“We’ll need Ultraviolet to make more parts,” he said, picking up a dish of cornbread and the pitcher. Logan quickly followed and stacked the cups between his leg and the side of his chair. “There’s a lot more to do,” Patton admitted. “Maybe after dinner you could help figure out what’s the next best mod to tackle?”

“I—I’d like that,” Logan nodded and followed him out of the room, casting one last glance at the steel kitchen. The whole room felt just a little warmer. “I’d like that a lot.”

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naminethewriter · 6 months

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Change Is Scary

Two days late but here is the last story for @intrulogicalweek this year! Once again, it was lots of fun and I am amazed that I am still not tired of these dorks 🤭 Anyway, I couldn't help myself and again sneacked in some Intruloceit, though Janus doesn't make an actual appearance. If you want more context for this story, read Sk8er Boi which I wrote for last years Dukeceit Week! It's a prequel to this but not a necessary read to understand this one. Hope you enjoy! 💙💚

Masterpost | Intrulogical Week 23 Masterpost | Ao3

Summary: Remus loves Logan. He's falling in love with Janus. He hopes Logan will give him a chance, too.

Content Warnings: None!

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“Hey Lo, I’m home!” Remus called as he closed the door to their apartment behind him.

“Welcome back!” his boyfriend answered from what was most likely the living room. Remus quickly took off his combat boots and leather jacket before hurrying to find him. He was indeed in the living room, typing something on his laptop. Remus came to a stop in front of him, bouncing on his feet quietly as he waited for Logan’s signal that he was done.

His boyfriend made an audible click on something, let his eyes dance across the screen once more and then nodded. With a grin, Remus plugged the laptop off his lap and put it on the coffee table before taking its place.

“Hello darling, did you miss me?” he purred as he straddled Logan’s lap.

“I did, Cephy,” his boyfriend chuckled. “I hope you had an enjoyable day.”

“I did! I did! It was very fun, we—”

“Before you start telling me about it – and I do want to hear it,” Logan softly interrupted him, “I have some news for you.”

Remus’ interest was immediately piqued. “What?!” He leaned closer, their noses almost touching.

“The first recording of your new album arrived today.”

With a delighted screech, Remus sprung up and clapped his hands. “Play it, play it, play it!”

“I thought you might say that,” Logan chuckled and grabbed a remote that sat next to him. With one button press, their stereo started playing the newest song of Remus’ rock band and with an excited wiggle, Logan was pulled up and into Remus’ arms.

“Let’s dance!”

They twirled around their living room, Remus holding Logan close to his chest and humming along to the melody. The dance didn’t fit with the music, but Logan was used to that. When Remus got excited, he liked to hold his loved ones close and his usual dance moves didn’t allow for that, so instead he just hugged Logan close and spun around a bit.

It was a tradition at this point with every new bit of music they produced.

“It’s a good album, Cephy. You outdid yourself again,” Logan praised, and Remus kissed him enthusiastically.

“Wasn’t just me! You and Virgil and Pat and Ro all did a lot, too!”

“Of course.”

For a moment they just enjoyed the music until Remus’ initial burst of energy dissipated a bit. He still held Logan close and swayed along to the rhythm but stopped with the spinning. Logan was grateful, he was starting to get dizzy.

“I’d love to hear about your day now,” he reminded, smiling up at Remus, whose expression brightened.

“Oh, it was great! Jannie and I had lots of fun chugging the golf balls as far as possible!”

“Aren’t the courses in a mini golf park rather, well, small? I cannot imagine you had to shoot them all that far.”

“We didn’t!”

With a fond sigh, Logan dropped the topic. He should have known that Remus wouldn’t play the game as intended.

“As long as you didn’t hurt anyone, I guess that is fine, too.”

“We didn’t hit anyone. The owner wasn’t all too pleased with us though,” Remus giggled.

“I can imagine.”

“Jannie said he enjoyed himself though. He also asked about you, you know.”

Logan stiffened slightly in Remus’ arms. “Did he now?”

Remus stopped their dance entirely and grabbed the remote to turn the music down, though he kept his boyfriend close.

“He did. He’d really like to get to know you, too.”

“I know. I would like that as well.”

“But?”

Oh, Remus knew him too well. Nervously, Logan fiddled with Remus’ shirt, keeping his head low to avoid eye contact.

“But I still feel like it’s too early, don’t you? I mean, you just started going out, maybe we should wait to see if—”

Remus squeezed his shoulder to stop his rambling.

“I don’t think that’s actually your issue, is it, Lo Lo? Me and Janus is our thing, you don’t have to worry about us. And there’s nothing to worry about to begin with, we’re great. I really like him, and he likes me, too. And I’m sure you would like him as well if you gave him a chance.”

“I want to give him a chance. It’s just that I…” He trailed off but Remus didn’t push him. He knew that Logan sometimes needed to gather his thoughts before speaking. “I am worried. I know we both agreed that we are open to multiple partners and I am not taking that back. I love you and I am happy that Janus makes you happy as well. I… I am simple worried about managing two relationships at once, I have never done so before.”

“And that’s a valid thing to worry about,” Remus nodded. “It’s not gonna be easy, I mean, our relationship took a while to work out, too. But I’m here for you. And Jannie will understand it, too. I don’t want to share more than I should, but you know he’s trans and grew up in a rather conservative household. He understands how scary change can be and that some stuff will take time to figure out. None of us can expect this to go perfectly, so don’t think about it too much.”

“I know. I’m trying.”

“And I’m very proud of you for that.” Remus pressed a kiss into Logan’s hair. “If you need more time, I won’t push you. But maybe consider letting me invite him for tea or something? It doesn’t have to be anything big; it doesn’t even have to be a date. Just a conversation to start with, okay?”

Logan took a deep breath.

A conversation.

Yeah, he could do that.

“Yes. I’ll try and find something I am comfortable including him in.”

“Thank you, starlight.” Remus hugged him closer, nuzzling him contently. “I love you.” “I love you too, Cephy.”

#namiswriting #intrulogical week 2023 #day 7: rock n roll/music #intrulogical #background dukeceit #future intruloceit #ts remus #remus sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #hurt/comfort #logan is insecure about maintaining two relationships at once #remus understands his worries and is doing his best to help #janus is only mentioned #sanders sides #fanfiction #reblogs are appreciated

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marksandrec · 2 years

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Marks and Rec: Misc #2404

(You have Remus's attention.) (Dialogue from bocxtop on twitter.)

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #incorrect quotes #marks and rec misc #thomas sanders #source: twitter #logic sanders #duke sanders #death mention

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starlocked01 · 1 year

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The Return of Curiosity

AO3 Link

Chapter 1/16

Relationships: Intrulogical, platonic Prinxiety, platonic Patton & OC side

Content Warnings: Food Mentions, Eating Non-edibles, Characters in Physical Danger, Kissing, Swearing, Original Characters, Bittersweet Ending

Summary: Logan has had enough. Years of being Thomas' logical side have taken their toll and after being ignored by absolutely everyone, he's through being their background exposition character. Logan is returning to his original purpose and his first family. But as the remaining dark sides welcome him back with open arms, the core sides are left confused and confronted with the return of the original indigo side. It's been a very long time since they've had hope or curiosity.

We're back baby! I adopted this story for @tsspromptmonth 's Spring Cleaning event! It was quite a different experience to take on @typically-untypical 's story and give up one of my own 😅 Raven wrote the first five chapters that I'm posting today and drafted the entire story. It's been awesome bringing their ideas to life.

#sanders sides #all sides #remus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts original side #hope sanders #intrulogical #kissing #swearing #bittersweet ending #food mention #tsspromptmonth spring cleaning

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loganofthenorth · 2 years

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Do you have any ships you don't like?

Ever just look into your inbox and realize you have a bunch of asks you forgot about? Ha could be me

That was going to say couldn't be me but auto correct changed it and it's not wrong so I'm leaving it

Anywho, ships I don't like? Yes of course, I have many.

Obviously there's the forbidden ship r*mr*m that shouldn't even be a thing so I'm not going to dignify it with a paragraph

Then there's Logicality which I've written about before. I used to like it, but after rewatching Sanders Sides twice I realized they aren't very healthy for each other in a romantic sense. Patton seems to make Logan out to be the bad guy when he's just trying to help, and Logan tends to snap when his patience runs thin. Also the Skip incident in SVS Redux, where Patton asked for Logan's input before silencing him because Logan's opinion went against his.

Then there's Intruality, I love it in AUs under certain circumstances, but it's a big fat No in cannon. It doesn't work because if you look at Sanders Sides from Remus's perspective, Patton is a manipulative abuser. If you look at Sanders Sides from Patton's perspective, Remus is a bad guy that lashes out for no reason. Like, sure, one could say that they might work through that and think they misunderstood each other. However, neither of them are technically wrong. Besides, considering that Remus exists because his version of creativity was morally frowned upon, and was therefore repressed so that Roman could be a morally appropriate version of creativity, a romantic relationship would be awkward at absolute best. Honestly if they do somehow work on their issues with each other, the best outcome would be that Remus and Patton's relationship would become a sort of father that abandoned his son and now they're reconnecting kind of thing.

Then there's Moxiety, this one is just because I see Patton and Virgil in a father/son relationship. Also, the fact that Virgil is Thomas's fears and fear is an emotion, which Patton has dominion over, it's possible that Patton is actually Virgil's father in the same way that Roman and Remus are brothers. I also believe that the Orange Side is anger, and if that's the case, he would be Patton's son as well.

I can go into that theory in another post though.

Next is Royality, and yes I know, you're probably sensing a pattern.

Now, don't get me wrong. While Patton is my least favourite character, that doesn't mean I hate him. I actually love Patton, especially in episodes like the puppet episode where he shows incredible emotional maturity that is really helpful to Thomas.

I also love how complicated of a character he is, and it's sad that the fandom simplifies him to just a happy, nice, cute, silly character, because he's more than that. He has severe depression, and a lot of issues that come from that. He also grew up taking catholic views to heart, following all the morals Thomas was taught as well as he can.

On top of that, he manages emotions, which is such an incredibly complicated thing to be in charge of. He manages instincts, like when Thomas feels good for doing something good, or when Thomas is hungry, or thirsty, or whatever else. He manages a large percentage of Thomas's likes, dislikes, sense of humour, inner child, and more. Patton has a large mountain of responsibilities, which adds to the complexity of his character.

He also appears to be very manipulative, whether or not he intends to be using manipulation tactics, I don't know. I think his character's too complicated to know that for sure. However, he's done a lot of love bombing, guilt tripping, and other manipulative actions that make him out to be this innocent good guy and anyone that disagrees with him to look like a bad guy.

Due to how complex of a character Patton is, and due to how he has made himself a father figure to most of the sides, it's hard to enjoy him in most ships in cannon. The only ship that works well for him is Moceit, in my opinion, because Janus is working with him to help Patton work through these issues. Patton is also good for Janus because Janus needs to learn how to communicate in a way that doesn't seem like he's attacking or sabotaging Thomas/the other sides.

Now, with that aside, back to Royality.

Royality is a very best friend or father/son relationship. More best friend in AUs and Father/Son in both cannon and AUs. I say more father son in cannon, because Roman has shown a desire to gain Patton's approval. He tries to follow Patton's rules, even though every time he finally manages to meet Patton's impossible standards, suddenly they change and turn around completely. (I have ranted about this several times and will likely do it again in future posts.)

Now, with those out of the way, yes there is more.

Next is Logince

I like Logince in AUs, and it's not that I don't think Logan and Roman's dynamic is amazing, it's not that I think they wouldn't work romantically, I just see them more as a brotherly relationship. Roman treats Logan like an older brother that he fights a lot with, but at the end of the day he just wants to be good enough for Logan. The way they talk about Patton to each other is a lot like Roman being a teenage brother complaining about their Dad and how lame/strict/embarrassing/etc he is to his adult brother.

Then there's Anxceit. This one I don't like because I see Janus as a mother figure to Virgil and Remus. I guess it could work in AUs, but to get their dynamic right, it would probably be a friends to enemies to lovers situation. Like Catradora. Also Janus and Virgil still have a lot of bad blood to work through, so if I'm wrong about the mother/son bond and they were just friends before, then Anxceit would probably have a lot of work to do and an awkward patching up before they can be in a healthy relationship.

Now there's Demus and Roceit. Which, maybe they shouldn't be on this list, because I do like these ships, but I do want to talk about them.

Demus I tend to feel meh about, it's basically dark side Royality. They work as a mother/son dynamic or best friends, not really romantic partners. However, I love them when it's Intruloceit, because I love Loceit and Intrulogical.

Roceit, this is friends to enemies to lovers galore. Roceit is not a healthy ship currently, but it's definitely an entertaining one. Due to Roman's insecurities and Janus using Roman for his greater plan, however, I don't know if a romantic relationship would work in cannon. It depends on where the story goes from where we are right now. However this is the perfect enemies to lovers ship for AUs if you get bored of Prinxiety's popularity.

Now what's interesting about Demus and Roceit is that if you believe in the theory that Roman and Remus were once King Creativity, which I do, and if you've seen the King AU, which I have, that adds all kinds of layers of complicated to Demus and Roceit. Of course, I may go over that in a future post.

Sorry this was so long, I hope you enjoyed my infodump!

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full-of-roman-angst-trash · 2 years

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What is Home? Masterpost

This is for the Sanders Sides Big Bang Event. It was so much fun participating in this event! Thank you to the mods at @sandersidesbigbang for being extremely nice throughout this whole event. Thank you to @talking4the1 and @dystopiagnome for choosing to make art of my fanfic it was amazing working with you guys!

Summary: Roman and Remus run away from home after their parents threaten to put them in a boarding school. The two of them often got in trouble with the law for crimes like vandalism, stealing, and fighting, however now they have to adjust to living a crime-free life to avoid getting caught. They drive to another state and try to find an apartment to live in and jobs there. They eventually manage to find a relatively cheap apartment—their next-door neighbor then offers them a job at a store that his family owns. Once at the store they make a couple of friends, all while trying to get rid of their bad habits.

Warnings: Violence/fighting, cursing, arguing, neglect, abuse, homophobia, smoking, depression, and mention of eating/eating disorders/food, self harm.

Main Pairings: Anaroceit, Intrulogical.

Other Pairings: Mention of Past Analogical

AO3 link:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

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bennyyrabbit · 1 year

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I'm listening to LIke a Robot by Aqua rn and I--

I'm going to announce my Roman Is Bad At Sex Agenda

Also my Past Logince Agenda.

ANYWAY.

This idea is set pre-show.

So, Logan and Roman are together. Logan is SUFFERING because Roman just. Sucks.

And eventually, Logan is like, "You need to put more effort into our sex life because you are Very Bad at this, and you never actually get me off."

And Roman's like. What????

And Logan is like. "Yeah. You're bad. And I deserve to actually get off during sex with my boyfriend, so, get better. Here's an extremely long list of ways to improve, if you have questions, feel free to ask them."

Months go by. MONTHS.

Roman does not improve.

Remus is super annoying, btw, so he definitely will just show up at the light side's area of the mindscape and annoy the shit out of them all, just for context.

SO, Remus just randomly shows up, constantly, because he's an annoying little shit, and he is always flirting with Logan, telling Logan he's super hot, basically being a huge flirt, and he's basically like, I can fuck you.

And Logan says the usual I Have A Boyfriend, and Remus is like.

Does he get you off?

And Logan LIES TO HIM and says yes, because telling his boyfriend's brother who is very clearly interested in him that his boyfriend is bad at sex is a VERY NOT SMART IDEA.

And then he has to bring it up with Roman, because it's been MONTHS and he has not improved.

And when he does he's basically like, Look. I'm being patient here. But you need to IMPROVE. I'm too attractive to not get off with my boyfriend.

And Roman's like Too attractive???

And Logan's just like. Your brother wants to fuck me and I have a theory that he is BETTER AT IT THAN YOU, so. Improve.

Does it sound like if Roman doesn't actually improve, Logan will leave him for Remus? Yeah, a little.

Would Logan actually do that? No. But he's hoping the implication will make Roman work harder to improve.

Uh. It does, but Roman gets. Worse.

And then things just. Fall apart, unrelated to the Roman Is Bad At Sex thing (this is when the show starts), and Logan ends things with Roman.

Roman thinks Logan is automatically going to get with Remus, but he doesn't.

Roman gets with Virgil, and DOES improve at sex, because he does for some reason, and eventually, (right about where we are in the current story), Logan decides to take Remus up on that offer. The offer he repeatedly reminds Logan is VERY MUCH on the table.

And Logan is proven right. Remus is EXPONENTIALLY better than Roman was.

#past logince #talk of sex #mention of sex #intrulogical #prinxiety #mentioned prinxiety #roman is bad at sex #sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders

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loganslowdown4 · 9 months

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Remus: Are you a painting?

Logan: I’m sorry—

Remus: Because I want to pin you to the wall.

Logan: *chokes*

Virgil: *sighs with relief* I thought you were gonna say you want to hang him, god that scared me—

Virgil: *realizing* Ew no.

#tbh remus would say either and hve it be affectionate lol #thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #ts roman #incorrect sanders sides #ts logan #remus sanders #Virgil sanders #ts intrulogical #cw suggestive #cw violence mention

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thatgenderlessentity · 1 year

Text

Logan- If this succeds we could boost it's power and use it for... Well, anything. As a power source, as-

Remus- A weapon?

Logan- Potentially. But if it's like my other experiments, the results will be explosive.

Source: She-ra

#sanders sides #sanders sides incorrect quotes #ts logan #logan sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #source: she ra #platonic intrulogical #tw weapon mention

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edupunkn00b · 20 days

Text

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 12: Working Out

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Working Out - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan is determined not to slow down the team again. It wouldn't be the first time he'd pushed his body to the limit.

Logan slipped through the locker room door just before it clanked shut, closing in three dozen or so students in the musky, humid air. "Watch it!" he warned a knot of augmented juniors as they chased past, jostling his safety glasses. His cry went unnoticed over their excited laughter.

He sidled close to the only other full Traditional he could spot, a tall, muscular sophomore. The boy may not have been born with Powers, but he’d certainly clutched a winning genetics lottery ticket on his way into the world.

“Hey, Lo, check it out!” Andrei cheered, lifting his shirt to reveal a translucent implant above his right hip. “Look what my parents got me for my birthday!” Nodding, Logan watched the lights flicker, micro-adjusting his hormone and electrolyte levels. “No more charley horses for me, huh?”

“Indeed,” he murmured. No more leg cramps, no more muscle fatigue. And with a daily boost of somatropin, he’d grow at least another foot and a half before he graduated. “Congratulations.” Logan forced a smile, adjusting his now-fogged eyeglasses. “You will certainly—”

“Alright boys, listen up!” The wrestling coach stepped up onto a nearby bench and whistled. Two freshmen with new hearing augments winced and covered their ears. He waited for the din to lessen and tapped his wrist, activating the ceiling's vid projector. Thanks to Title IV of the Powerds Integration Act, blah blah blah,” he rolled his eyes and two of the older Powerds glared at him. “We’re down to one boy’s team this year with space for five Traditionals.”

Five? Logan's stomach dropped to his feet. There had been fifteen Traditionals in last year’s team plus four alternates. He scanned the room as the coach called out the new team’s roster. Jake and Kirthi high fived behind the coach, reaching nearly his height now with the summer’s growth injections taking effect. Ben stood in the corner, dark shades covering new eyes.

Logan's mouth went dry when he realized he was the last of the Traditionals team who hadn’t yet been augmented. Tim wasn’t there, of course, though Logan saw him from time to time between classes, slouched in his motorized chair, waiting for the school’s singular elevator.

“And… Sanders,” the coach finished. Thirty four sets of eyes whipped over to him and Logan tried to stand a little taller. And tried to ignore the other student’s murmurs.

“It’ll be a good year, Coach,” he said.

Coach Roberts nodded, eyes fixed at a spot just above his head. “Suit up, boys. I want you all out and sparring in pairs in five.”

Logan kept his eyes trained down and focused on his own preparations as the locker room exploded in activity. Laughter and slamming doors rattled his teeth, the usual scramble to shed street clothes and don stretchy singlets—or, in the case of several boys, trade in for the next size up—no longer lending him its usual energizing buzz.

The day wasn't finished with him yet. With an odd number of Traditionals on the team, it was a simple matter of the math not mathing to require a Traditional to that be paired with a Powered.

Coach Roberts patted Logan’s shoulder as he stepped up to his side of the mat. “Look, Sanders, do your best out there. No-one expects much more than that from you.”

Logan looked up into Coach Robert’s camera-ringed irises. “Y—yes, Coach,” he nodded and turned to face his opponent. The coach had at least tried to give him a chance, matching Logan with a Powered in the same weight class.

But how much did weight class really matter when your opponent’s muscles powered a skeleton stronger than titanium? When your opponent could sense your thoughts, predicting your every move?

He managed to stay on his feet for the first round. Until, at least, his sparring partner grew bored and stopped tamping down on his other abilities. In seconds, Logan was down, face jammed into the mat. He struggled but his opponent countered each twist, each desperate attempt to break free. Finally, Logan tapped out.

The Powered—a new student Logan hadn’t even learned his name—loomed over him. “Good job.” He tonelessly repeated the team’s end of match phrase and looked around for his next partner.

Logan pushed up to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. “Best two out of three.”

“Time?” Logan panted, controller shaking in his grip as he brought the mech's hands together in the ready signal. He’d boosted the suit’s stabilizers, so from the outside, at least, his durasteel arms moved smoothly. But Logan knew.

“219.8 seconds. Better,” V smiled encouragingly but the flatness in his tone and the twitch in his eyebrow said it all. Logan still took entirely too long to properly suit up.

He deflated, leaned to one side in the mech’s cavity. Logan pulled in a shaking breath, fighting to slow his panting, and nodded. “Indeed. Better.” Better but not enough.

"Get your bearings and we’ll go again,” V suggested, still smiling as he passed him a towel. It was only then Logan noticed he was drenched, sweat dripping from his hair and soaking through his shirt.

Logan smiled his thanks—tried to, at least, and V nodded again, a bottle of electrolyte ready. His smile grew, just a bit. He hadn't yet exhausted V's patience. Logan would keep going for as long as he was willing to help him.

V looked up when Patton approached from the kitchen, hugging a large crate to his burly chest. The scents of strawberries and fresh bread and chocolate chip cookies intermingled in the air as he stopped. He shifted the box to one arm to wave at them. “I’m headed, ah…” He waggled his head vaguely toward the hall and Logan’s brow furrowed before understanding struck.

“Is he…” V frowned and swiped across his tablet, searching. Trying not to be obvious, Logan peeked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of The Muse’s hallway on the screen.

“No, he—nothing’s wrong. Just…” Patton shrugged and looked down at the crate. “After yesterday, I…”

Hesper’s cryptic words from last night filled Logan’s mind. “What makes you think I didn’t trigger your alarms so I could have a little company… just like Re used to?”

“Can I help?” Logan blurted out before looking down at his useless half a hand, his broken body. His face burned, stomach knotted in shame at his utter uselessness.

Patton’s smile was gentle. “Um, that’s okay, Kiddo. I got this.” He didn’t bother to ask how precisely Logan thought he could help in a room he couldn’t reach in his mech. In a room he couldn’t even enter without assistance. Still holding the giant crate of food with one arm, he gently squeezed Logan’s—not the mech’s—shoulder. “But thanks. I’ll let you both get back to your drills.”

He gave them another little wave then headed down the hall. Listening to the elevator door open then swish closed, Logan finished his drink and passed V the empty bottle.

“Ready?” he asked, switching back to his timer.

“Yes.” Logan lowered the mech to a crouch and began to climb out. But Patton's arrival broke the dam on the flood of questions from last night. In his distraction, he nearly fell out of the cavity. “Well… wait.” He met V’s questioning glance. “What did Hesper mean… about The Prince as a little boy? Did he… Did Hesper know him back then?” V scowled down at his tablet but Logan pushed on. “Is that why he called The Muse, ‘Re?’”

Tapping at the screen, V started to speak, then his jaw clamped shut. He let out a slow breath before looking back at Logan. “It’s not really my story to tell. I…” He sighed again.

For a moment, Logan feared V would try sending him to The Prince with his questions. “Yeah,” V said at last. “Yeah, there’s… there’s a history. You…” V winced and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Maybe ask Silvertongue… um… later, though.” He nodded like it was obvious why he should wait. “You know?”

Was there more to Silvertongue’s outburst last night, too? “I’ll wait,” he promised. “Thank—thank you.”

“Yeah.” V blew out a short breath and returned his attention to the tablet. “Ready for another go?”

Logan dropped the last foot or so, hitting the ground with a barely muffled groan. He climbed up into his chair, replicating his starting point. “I’m ready,” he said, looking up at the suit.

V stared at him for a long moment. “You know, maybe…” He looked away when Logan tried to meet his eyes, tugging at his sleeves.

“Maybe what?” Logan prompted, bracing himself for what passed for yet another bit of ‘constructive’ criticism.

“Maybe you just need to work on your strength a bit,” he said with a little shrug. “If you want, I could show you how to modify a couple of the machines in the fitness center to—”

“Show me.”

That was how Logan ended up strapped to the pull-up machine in the team’s fitness center, the bright automated trainer chirping out his reps into a sweat-proof earpiece. “And twenty. Good job! You’ve finished your workout—”

“Again!” Logan snapped, tugging at the bar as the platform lowered him to the floor.

“You have completed your recommended three sets of twenty, Logan,” the interface chirped back. Though its tone never changed, Logan couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of his own name. Constructed from heavily modded tech ‘borrowed’ from Abracadabra, the interface sounded just like the old assignment program back at the distribution center.

“I don’t care. Again!” He batted at the controls with the end of his left stump but the panel went dark.

“I am unable to comply with your request.” The artificial voice switched over to the main speakers when it ended his session, like it wanted a witness. “Please try again tomorrow.”

“You’re better off arguing with the refridgerator, Tin Man,” the Prince chuckled from the corner.

“How long have you been watching me?” Logan snapped, face warm. While the automated trainer didn’t record his strained grunts during his workout, the Prince was the absolute last person he’d want to hear him struggling to do a simple pull-up.

The Prince lifted a barbell packed with 300 pounds on either side. The weight floated up to his chin, before he raised it up above his head and back down to the floor in one perfect, flowing motion.

The weights didn’t even clank when they touched the mat.

“Long enough to see you max out your reps,” he said, barely pausing for his own weight routine. “Hit the showers or something.”

“I’m not done,” Logan muttered, pushing himself off the platform. Fatigued muscles trembling under the strain, he dropped faster than he’d planned, landing with a pained grunt as his hip grazed the base of the pull up machine.

“Don’t tell me it’s leg day for you.”

“Oh, ha, ha,” Logan muttered, hiding his face until he could control the shameful quiver in his chin. “With wit like that, it’s little wonder you’re the brains of the team. Oh, no, wait—You’re not.”

The Prince shrugged and spared him any further conversation, instead loading on another 100 pound plate to each side of his dumbbell. Shaking his head, Logan pulled himself into his chair and moved to the far corner of the fitness room, keeping as many weight machines between him and The Prince as he could.

When he’d found a suitable place, he lowered himself to the floor again, taking it slowly this time. Laying flat on his back with his chair in front of him, he wedged his thighs between the front and back wheels, bracing his lower body for crunches.

It worked well. For a while, at least. To remain steady, Logan had to tighten his abductors with each crunch, pushing against the wheels to keep them—and himself—from rocking with the movement.

He pushed on, the chair straining against its emergency brakes with each rep. Finally, the brake snapped free and the chair flipped back.

“Fuck.” Logan pounded his fist and the back of his head against the mat and lay back, eyes closed, as he gathered the strength to push the chair upright. With any luck, the Prince had already finished his strongman routine and left the gym.

Logan was not a lucky man.

“Need a hand?”

Logan glared up at him from the floor.

“Oh, shit, yeah…” He shuffled closer, ears tinged pink as he avoided looking at Logan’s stump. “I—I didn’t mean that one. I swear.” He gestured at the overturned wheelchair. “Can I help?”

“I’ve got it,” Logan muttered, pushing up and wiggling closer to the chair. He rolled onto his belly then wormed his way into the gap between the back of the chair and the floor. Once he’d gotten most of his body underneath it, he wedged his right hand under his chest and pushed up sharply.

It took two more tries but finally the chair tilted forward and Logan twisted with it, grabbing the strap criss-crossing the back of the chair to steady it before it tipped completely forward.

“Damn,” the Prince murmured.

“You’re still here?” Logan leaned against the seat back, panting, and in no way ready to either resume his crunches or climb into the chair.

The Prince shifted his weight from side to side, one foot pointed toward the door, the other toward him. Finally, he dropped to the floor and sat about two feet away. Jerking his chin toward the chair, he shrugged. “What were you even doing to knock over that beast?”

Logan eyed The Prince and considered ignoring his question. If he really was that nosy, he could just as easily pull up the security footage and that might be worse than simply hearing about it. Sighing, Logan let his eyes fall closed. “I was using it to brace my… legs for abdominal crunches. The other machine's not built for me.”

The Prince made a little choked sound in the back of his throat. Not a laugh, but…

Eyes still shut, Logan wiggled back into position and prepared himself for another set. If he could increase his core strength, maybe the one-armed pull-ups would get easier faster.

Logan’s eyes snapped open when he felt movement next to him. The Prince had moved closer, knelt on the floor only about a half-foot away, hands laying open on his lap. His expression was unreadable.

“Lay your legs against mine. I’ll brace you,” he said, patting the tops of his thighs and glancing down at where Logan’s legs ended. To the Prince’s credit, the usual mix of pity and disgust flashing over his features didn’t last long.

The Prince waited, holding his gaze until, finally, Logan nodded. He moved a little closer, but let Logan be the one to move close enough to touch and set his legs in place. “May I?” he asked, holding his hands over the tops of Logan’s thighs.

“Go—” Logan cleared his throat, the vulnerability of his position seizing the muscles in his neck. If he'd wanted to, The Prince could pick him up and fling him against the wall and not even break a sweat. “Go ahead,” he finally croaked out. With flat, open hands, The Prince pressed against his legs, holding him in place.

“I’ll let go the moment you tell me to,” the Prince said, then fell silent as Logan resumed his crunches.

He loathed to admit it, but focusing on only one set of muscles made the crunches almost enjoyable. Almost. “This helps,” Logan grunted. “Immensely.” He forced himself up for another two crunches. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” The Prince replied, repeating his own words back at him from last night's skirmish with Hesper.

Logan pushed out the last of the set and lay back, counting down a thirty second rest period. He lifted up again and silently worked through another set. He slowed as he neared the end, muscles screaming in protest. “Why…" The temptation to ask The Prince about his history with Hesper—and about Re—was great. He shifted to the next question bubbling in his mind instead. "What are you helping me, anyway? I thought… I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t—” The twitch in The Prince’s jaw told Logan he very much did. “We’re a team,” he shrugged at last. “If you’re stronger, we’re all stronger. C’mon, Iron Man, that all you got?" Did Logan only imagine a smile behind his eyes? "Gimme three more.”

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