#tsfanfic

Summary: Janus crushes on Logan from afar. He finally gathers the courage to ask him out on a date with some encouragement from his best friend, Remus. For @loceitweek2022​!  *:･ﾟ✧

Characters: Romantic Loceit and Remus as your friendly neighborhood hype man

Word Count: 2,934

Genre: College AU, Meet Cute, Library, Romance, Dating, Demisexual Character, Janus pining hardcore

Rated T for language and sensuality

Janus Moretti was pining.

It all started at the beginning of the semester. Janus normally didn't normally leave his apartment to do homework, but Remus had invited a few people from his rock band over, and it was hard to concentrate.

The student library was nice. It had three floors and there was a coffee shop inside. Optimal place for peace and caffeine.

Janus settled at a table and cracked open his laptop. Then, he saw him—a boy with fawn-colored hair and glasses, working inventory from a metal cart. He ran long lines down the spines of each book he came across with great care, as if understood how important and precious each one was before returning them to their rightful place on the shelves. One day, Janus caught a glance at his nametag—Logan.

And, well, that was it. Every single time Logan walked by, his heart squished in his chest. There was something about him that made Janus want to do incredibly sappy things, like press his fingertips between his eyebrows until the furrow melted away or buy him coffee.

Ugh. Feelings. 

Disgusting.

Janus' eyes drifted across the room. Logan usually wore button downs, always tucked into a pair of tight jeans and paired with a necktie, but today he was wearing a sweater. It was cobalt and brought out just how bright blue his eyes were.

"Damn it," Janus muttered. "He's so hot."

"He looks like he has a stick up his ass if you ask me."

Janus thwacked Remus on the arm with The Art of War. "Don't bad mouth my crush!"

A slow smile stretched across Remus' face. He was sitting across from him and working on a neon green lollipop, shiny and round like a marble between his teeth. Several piercings dotted his ears, but he wore a dangly silver one shaped like a morning star that glittered whenever he moved. 

"I'm just saying," Remus said, wagging the lollipop at him. "He looks uptight as fuck. Who the hell can stand to sit up straight all day like that? I've never seen him slouch once."

"So what? He has impeccable posture."

"Oh, so posture is hot, now?"

"Yes."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You have no clue what you're talking about."

"I have taste is what I have."

"Then do something about it. Go talk to him."

"It's not that easy."

"Yeah, it is. You just go up to him and open your mouth and say stuff."

Easy for Remus to say. He always spoke his mind without caring what other people thought. Sometimes, it was more of a case of brain to mouth filter, but other times, Janus really wished he had his confidence and his ability to bounce back so quickly when things didn't go according to plan.

"I don't even know if he's gay," Janus hedged.

"You'd find out if you asked him out."

"Oh, sure." Janus flicked his wrist. "Let's just gamble all of my dignity and pride. Toss it at the wind!"

"He's got an Apple watch," Remus pointed out.

"That means nothing."

"The wristband is a rainbow."

"That still means nothing."

"Listen, if you ask him out, I'll back you up. If it goes wrong, I'll create a diversion and pull the fire alarm or something. And if he's an asshole, I'll throw a book at his head."

"No," Janus said.

"A real big one. Full of manners and etiquette or some shit."

"Remus, you are not going to throw a book at him."

"Fine. I'll pull the stick out of his ass and beat him with it."

Janus gave a heavy eye roll. 

It wasn't as if Janus was shy. He wasn't. He knew how to charm his teachers into accepting a late assignment, how to make someone blush and how to deliver a powerful speech that had everyone holding their breaths and leaning forward in their seats. He was good with people. Sociable. Smooth.

But this ... this was different. This was a like a grade school crush. Janus hadn't had one of those since, well, grade school. Sure, he dated before, but he only went out with men he met online or in class. It was easy to flirt when the person was clearly into him, but Logan was a complete stranger. Janus had no idea how to approach him.

"So," Remus said. "You gonna do it or not?"

"No. I'm too busy."

"Yeah, being a little chicken shit."

Janus kicked him in the shin without any malice. Remus cackled out a loud laugh.

"Excuse me."

Janus froze. Slowly, he turned his head to see Logan standing nearby with the book cart, his beautiful pink bow of a mouth twisted into a frown.

"Can you two please keep it down? We are in a library."

Janus' palms started to sweat. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? Had he heard anything at all? Panic flared inside his chest, his tongue moving before his brain could fully process the situation and blurted out: "Yes, sir."

Remus lost it. He fell against the table and started shaking with laughter.

Janus closed his eyes. Fucking hell.

The innuendo was clearly lost on Logan because he looked sincerely confused. "You don't have to call me sir. I cannot be that much older than you."

"I, uh ...Yes. Apologies."

Logan shrugged. He sent Janus one last puzzled look before wheeling the cart away.

As soon as he was gone, Janus dropped his burning face into his hands and groaned. He wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor and die. 

"Well," Remus said, still snickering. "That went well."

Janus swatted him with the book again.

***

A week later, Janus and Remus stood outside of the library and underneath an awning to get out of a storm. The rain was coming down hard, bouncing against the pavement like silver coins and drumming over their heads.

"If I had known it was going to rain today, I would have brought an umbrella," Janus complained. He was soaked and wanted nothing more than to slip into something warm and comfortable, but their apartment was quite a walk from here.

"I like it," Remus said. He reached out his hand to catch some of the raindrops like a little kid. He was soaked too, his black leather jacket slick with water and his violet eyeshadow smeared.

"Let's just go inside. We can get coffee and wait for it to let up."

"Good idea," Remus said. "Maybe your Pocket Protector boyfriend is there."

God, he hoped not. Janus would like to look at least halfway decent around his crush. They stepped inside of the library and a rush of warmth instantly seeped in Janus’ skin. He took off his beanie and ran a hand through his damp hair.

And of course, there he was—Logan, sitting at the front desk and reading a book. Everyone else on campus must have gotten the memo about the rain because there weren't too many students here today. His back was straight as a sword, brows furrowed in concentration and beautiful as always.

Remus beamed. "Well, well. Look who's here!"

Janus internally groaned. He hiked up the collar of his jacket and passed Logan as quickly as possible to get to the stairwell. Remus' combat boots echoed as he followed him down to the café. There was no line. The barista punched in their orders and brought them their coffee fairly quickly.

Hot liquid slid down Janus' throat and warmed his insides. He was still soaked. Water dripped off of his clothes and formed a puddle on the linoleum floor.

"Sooo?" Remus prompted. "What are you waiting for? He's clearly not busy."

"He's reading. That means he doesn't want to be disturbed."

"He's reading because he's probably bored out of his mind at work, you dumb ass. Maybe it'd make his day to have a cute boy hit on him. Ever think about that? Huh? Did ya?"

"Now you sound like your brother."

"Yeah? Well, you sound like a wuss. Wuss, wuss, wuss. Mr. Wussyman."

Janus rolled his eyes. "Oh, very mature of you."

"How about this? If you talk to him, I'll give you five dollars."

"Now you're bribing me to talk to my crush?" Janus tossed his head back. "Ha! Please. That'll never work." He took a long sip of his coffee. Swallowed it slowly. Then, "Make it ten."

"Fine. Anything to get you to move your ass already. I'm sick of your pining."

They shuffled back up the stairs. Janus stalled by following Remus to the horror section and browsing for a book to check out. Finally, he settled on The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and made his way to the front desk.

Janus cleared his throat. "Hello."

Logan startled. His eyes immediately glanced over the scar on the left side of Janus' face. It was silver now, a jagged line that slashed from his eyebrow down to his jaw. At a distance, it was hard to make out, but it was much clearer if you were standing next to him. The eye on that side was a bright gold, compared to the right, which was a solid walnut brown. They had never been this close to each other before, let alone talked, aside from the please be quiet incident. This was the first time Logan was really seeing him.

Logan set his book faced down on the desk—The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. "Apologies. How can I help you?"

Janus pushed his book at him. While Logan got to work on checking Janus out, Janus leaned over the desk, trying to appear casual. "So ..." he began.

Logan gave him a sideways glance. "You're dripping on Arthur Canon Doyle."

Janus jolted back. "Sorry." Another puddle was forming at his feet. He scuffed at it with his shoe. "Do you come here often?"

Logan frowned. "I work here."

"I know. It was a joke."

"Oh."

Awkward silence.

"Welp!" Janus snatched his book and forced a cheery grin. "Bye!"

He ran out the library with a bruised ego, internally kicking himself for trying such a cheesy pick up line. Remus paid him only twenty-five cents for such a poor attempt and boilsted up his confidence for when they returned a few days later. 

It was another rainy April afternoon. Once again, Janus hadn't checked the weather before leaving his apartment and entered the library looking like he'd just walked off of an intense ride at Splash Mountain.

Janus hastily wiped water off his face. "Maybe he isn't here today."

"Check again," Remus said. He hooked his fingers under Janus' chin and forced him to turn his head. "Calculator Watch at twelve o'clock."

Logan was working inventory again. Outside, the rain hacked against the windowpanes and slid down the glass. Thunder roared, followed by an explosion of lighting, so intense, Janus could feel it in his bones. The lightning illuminated Logan's profile between the aisles, his hip pressed against the side of the book cart and reading the back of a novel, too absorbed in his own world to even acknowledge the storm.

Janus took in the pieces of him—his soft brown hair brushing over his eyebrows, his broad shoulders and long legs, and it felt as if he had been zapped. "Fuck."

"Not yet," Remus said. He gave him an encouraging little push in Logan's direction. "Go talk to him. I'll be hanging around. Moral support."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Gonna grab the biggest, fattest dictionary here. Best to be prepared, in case it goes awry."

Janus was too nervous to even make a comment on that. It took another push from Remus to get his legs moving in Logan's direction. He sucked in a deep breath, pushing down the butterflies in his stomach and plastered on his most charming, practiced smile.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi." Logan turned his head. "You are dripping on the books again."

Janus immediately stepped away from the cart. "Sorry."

Logan didn't respond. The button down he was wearing was well fitted and tucked into a pair of very tight, dark jeans that accentuated his waist and it was just—not fair. Not at fair all. He lifted on his toes to reach a higher shelf, his sleeve shifting down to reveal a stretch of pale skin.

Janus was surprised. "You have a tattoo?"

Logan whirled around and slapped his hand over his forearm. "Yes."

"Why are you hiding it?"

"I'm at work. It's inappropriate."

Janus snorted. "A tattoo doesn't make you less professional, in my opinion. I pointed it out because I thought it was cool, not to get you in trouble. What is it of?"

Logan hesitated. 

Janus smiled in an attempt to be reassuring. "It wasn't a trick question."

The pink faded from Logan's cheeks. He slowly removed his hand to reveal a simple chemical formula in black ink. "It's acetylcholine," he explained. "It's a neurotransmitter that plays an essential role in attention, learning, and memory."

"That's interesting," Janus said, because it was. "Do you like science?"

"Yes. I am majoring in Neuroscience."

Holy shit. "That sounds really hard."

Logan shrugged. "Not really. I enjoy the classes."

Okay, okay, so he didn't just look smart, but he was smart. Double whammy in Janus' book.

"Hi, sweetie!" A blonde boy with curly hair stepped next to Logan. He wore a pair of light blue overalls and rounded glasses. A folded umbrella with frogs on it dripped at his side. "You forgot your lunch."

"Ah. Thank you, Patton."

The blonde, or Patton, apparently, smiled and handed him a lunch box. "I see you're busy with someone, so I'll get out of your hair. I'll see you later?"

"Yes," Logan said.

Patton beamed. He gave Janus a polite nod and disappeared. 

Heavy disappointment sank in Janus' gut. Of course Logan had a boyfriend. Of course.

But well ... he supposed he couldn't know that ... for certain. At the same time, he wasn't quite sure how to ask. He supposed the only way was to be upfront but god, that was so awkward. Then again, this whole thing was already awkward enough. If he didn't say something then Remus was going to beat his ass, and Janus would always wonder what if. Besides, he had already committed to this stupid thing. If Janus further embarrassed himself then it wouldn't be the end of the world. He would just die in a hole somewhere, but he would be fine. All fine.

Janus crossed his arms and leaned against the bookshelf. "So was that your ..." He hesitated. "Boy ... friend?"

Logan gave him a strange look. "No. What gave you that impression?"

"He called you sweetie."

"He calls everyone sweetie."

"Ah," Janus said, trying to ignore the swell of hope blooming in his chest. "Nice. Very, uh. Good."

"I guess."

"Soooo, do you have one?"

"Have what?"

"A boyfriend."

"Oh. No."

Remus popped out around a bookshelf behind Logan and flashed a wide, goofy grin. He gave a thumbs up.

Janus shot him a very pointed look. Logan's brows twitched inward. He began to turn around to see whatever it was Janus was looking at, and Janus panicked, his mouth moving before his brain could kick in, blurting out, "Are you gay?"

Logan fwipped his head up. A faint blush seared his cheeks. "I don't see how that is any of your business."

God. This was going horribly.

"Apologies. You're right, it's not my business, I meant no offense. It's just—I am. Gay, I mean. Very gay. I was wondering if you were, too. You don't have to answer, I ... I'm sorry."

A long pause. Logan crossed his arms. "Fine. I'm gay."

This was going wonderfully! Remus popped out again and flashed another thumbs up. Instantly, Janus' confidence was back up.

"Excellent! Do you want to go to Lou Malnati's sometime?"

Logan frowned. "Are you making fun of me?"

"I—what? No! No, I'm asking you out."

Logan's frown deepened. "Why? You don't even know me."

Because you're cute and smart and have impeccable posture, but instead he said, "I know. That's the point. I want to get to know you."

"Because you think I'm attractive?"

"Uh, yes? Yes, definitely."

Logan took a second before responding. He shelved one of the books with a loud clunk-ing noise before turning to face him. "I need to make some things clear first before I give you my answer."

"Okay."

"If you are asking me out for sex, it is not going to happen."

Janus choked. The unscarred side of his face burned pink. Still, Logan pressed on.

"I also will not want to kiss you on the first date. Maybe not even the second or the third or even the tenth, if our courtship gets that far. If I eventually do feel a sexual attraction towards you, I may choose then to engage in sexual activity, but there is also a chance that I will never wish to engage in it, despite an emotional component on my part."

It took Janus' brain a second to catch up to all of that. "Okay, are you saying you're ... ace? Is that right?"

"Demisexual."

The word rolled around in Janus' head. He knew what that was. He'd just never met anyone who identified that way before. "Okay. Okay, cool."

Logan lifted his eyebrows. "Cool?"

"Yeah," Janus said, shrugging. "I still want to take you out. I know you don't know anything about me but ..."

"I don't even know your name."

"It's Janus."

"Janus," Logan repeated. "All right. As long as you are 'cool' with it, I accept your offer."

***

A/N: I wasn't going to post anything because this is unfinished, but I figured I could share this as a WIP.  ^_^ This takes place in the same universe as my Prinxiety fic, A Lesson In Love and Romance, which you can read on AO3. Rating and details are subject to change after I complete the entire fic. There is a playlist which you can find here in the meantime, if you would like. 

Where There’s Smoke Chapter 8 Emblem!

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me (AO3)

Tumblr Master Post

First (Beginnings) / Previous / Next

TW: Idk what but... Read at your own risk and let me know if I need to add.

Logan was yanked from where he curled around himself atop his bench, hitting the ground with a solid thud.

He didn’t bother trying to fight. He knew how this went. It wasn’t the first time he had been dragged from his slumber by the brutes that worked for Noname. 

Two pairs of rough hands gripped him under the arms and dragged him up off the floor. He tried to stand, but weakness that had set in from hunger left his legs practically useless. 

The men paid no mind as they carried him out of the cell to be tortured once more. 

Despite his dread, Logan didn’t protest or whimper. No, this was expected. At least there was one good thing that came out of it: he’d get away from that bone chilling cold for just a little bit. 

-it all comes together pretty slowly™

Fics ordered from oldest to newest

I Do. AO3

Pairing: Polyamsanders

Warnings: Angst. Self-isolation. Eating mentions. Self-hate. Crying. Poor self-care.

Summary: Virgil is in love with the rest of the Light Sides, despite the trio being in a relationship. To stop himself from bothering them, he decides it is best to go back to how he used to be and only interact with them when Thomas needed him too. Happy Ending.

Am I? AO3

Pairing: None. Virgil-centric.

Warnings: Deceit mentions. Manipulative Deceit. Panic attack.

Summary: A glance into Virgil’s relationship with Deceit and its effect on Virgil’s life.

Shadows of Doubt  AO3

Pairing: Platonic Polyamsanders. Virgil-centric.

Warnings: Body horror. Angst. Self-hate. Crying. Panic. Minor violence. Choking.

Summary: Based on the idea that Virgil has cognitive shadows in his room.

Acceptance AO3

Pairings: Platonic Polyamsanders. Virgil-centric.

Warnings: Angst. Food Mentions. Deceit mentions. Sympathetic-ish Deceit.

Summary: The Sides never accepted Anxiety, they faked it and lied to everyone, including Thomas. After Deceit reveals himself to Thomas, the trio start to feel guilty about lying.

Fated AO3

Pairings: Prinxiety, background Logicality

Warnings: Abuse. Deceit mentions. His name is Desmond. Food mentions. Kidnapping. Warnings are more specific at the beginning of each chapter.

Summary: Red string soulmate au set in a fantasy au. Prince Roman’s quest for true love. Slowburn.

Deserving AO3

Pairings:Romantic Polyamsanders. Roman-centric.

Warnings: Eating disorder. Food mentions.

Summary: Roman doesn’t believe he deserves the others.

Apathetic  AO3

Part Two

Pairings: None really. Logan-centric.

Warnings: Deceit mentions. Sympathetic Deceit. Abuse. Dark Side Logan.

Summary:  At first, Logan Sanders was not Logic. He was Apathy. Based on this post from @fearfilledvirgil

Soul Ink AO3

Pairings: Polyamsanders. Virgil centric.

Warnings: Food Mentions. Abusive Parents. Self Hate.

Summary: College Soulmate au. Will be a series of One-shots.

A Little Different AO3

Pairing: Platonic Prinxiety

Warnings: Food Mentions. Crying. Minor threat of violence.

Summary:  Roman returns from a day of questing to find something, or someone, is a little different. Kid fic. Platonic Prinxiety. My entry for the Fanders Summer Fic Competition.

Terror AO3

Pairings: None really. Platonic Moxiety and Platonic Polyamsanders at most.

Warnings: Angst. Self Doubt. Body Horror. Anxiety Attacks. Loss of self identity. Abuse. Self Destruction.

Summary: Virgil is tired of being ignored by the other sides. Based off this post from @ahoardofsides.

Hunger Pangs AO3

Pairings: None really. Some past Platonic Anxiceit

Warnings: Angst. Deceit. Sympathetic Deceit.  Food mentions. Eating. Starvation. Vomit mentions. Nausea. Death mentions (no one dies). Open ending.

Summary: After Deceit's reveal, he isn't accepted as a Light Side, but is no longer a Dark Side, leaving him alone in the Mindscape. Unable to return to the Subconscious and unwilling to poise as a Light Side, Deceit is left with no choice but to survive on his own.

physics and why are you in my room AO3

Pairings: Platonic Analogical Focus

Warnings: Anxiety, Food Mentions, Eating, Possible Disordered Eating Related to Anxiety, Poor Coping Mechanisms

Word Count: 3119

Superhero AU, from a tumblr post.

Tags/Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Loceit, injury, hurt/comfort, poisoning, blood mention, injection, negative self talk

Note: This was an old prompt that I wrote this one-shot for, since it has been sitting in my Google Docs ever since, I decided to just post it.

Prompt inspired from this post.

Another story using this prompt, Princeity!

The “villain” dubbed Deceit by the local news outlets jotted down notes at his desk as a video of his last clash with his arch-nemesis, Logic played on the screen of his computer.

Nodding with satisfaction, he adds one last note and moves to the computer's mouse to close the program, but is interrupted by the buzzing of the intercom from the front gate to his estate.

Pressing the intercom button on the phone on his desk, he evenly responds, “Yes, what is it?” He didn't remember any guests or deliveries being scheduled, and was a bit curious, yet suspicious.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir. But there is a man who says he needs to see you. He says his name is Logic.” The guards voice reports over the device.

The villain's eyes widen, and quickly responds, “Bring him up. I will meet you at the front door.”

“Yes, sir.” The guard replies, and the intercom falls silent.

Deceit exits his study, grabbing his signature cape and donning it with a practiced swirl as he strides to the front door to his large home. Stopping at a side table next to the large door to put on his mask, gloves and bowler hat that rested there, he glances at the mirror next to the table and adjusted the mask slightly so no sign of his “disfigurement” could be seen. He tugs on the cuffs of his gloves nervously, and opens the door.

Before him stands a disheveled, bloodied Logic, dark blue and black costume ripped in several places, one sleeve of his jacket barely attached by a thread book-ended by the two large gate guards.

Before Deceit can take a breath to demand an explanation, the injured man spoke in a faint, trembling voice. “They didn't do this, someone else did.” As the hero hangs his head in fatigue.

Deceit dismisses the guards with a wave of his hand, and uses a gloved hand under the chin of the injured man to coax him to look up at him. “ Why did you come here, instead of tending to your injuries at home?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Deceit stared in shock at the hero, standing uninvited in front of the villain's home, weak and trembling in the cold.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to keep fighting. Just... just k-kill me. Or lock me up. Or whatever you’ve been planning this whole time, I don’t care. But I can’t do this. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t... I can’t keep fighting you—“ Logic's breath hitches, as he fights back a sob.

Deciet’s heart melted at the sight, the shaking hero, pale and exhausted and on the verge of tears.

“Hush, little hero, who did this to you?” Logic flinched at the sound of Deceit’s smooth  voice, their eyes going wide behind the mirrored visor as they were pulled into the villain’s arms. “Come in and have a cup of tea, I promise you’ll be safe here. I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

Deceit steers the injured hero into his home, closing the door behind them, and ushers him towards his den, settling the hero in a plush chair near the fire, and rings for his butler, who arrives within moments of the summons.

“Thomas, get me the first aid kit and we will take tea here next to the fire.” Deceit instructs the butler as he takes off his gloves and hat along with his cape and hands them to the waiting man. “Yes, sir.” The butler says with a small bow and leaves the room.

Deceit grabs the thick, plush blanket draped over the back of his chair and wraps it around Logic's shoulders, then settles into the chair across from the battered hero and simply looks at the man before him.

Disheveled hair, a split lip, and the hero's mirrored visor mask is all he can see as Logic gathers the blanket around him. Scraped knuckles adorn the hands clutching the blanket, as the hero pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

Thomas re-appears, setting a tray with a porcelain tea set down on the table next to Deceit, and slips the strap of a field med kit off his shoulder and hands it to his employer. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“This is quite satisfactory, Thomas. That will be all for now.” Deceit says as he sets the med kit down to pour the tea.

The butler bows, and Logic swears he saw the shimmer of scales on the man's neck in the firelight. “Yes, sir.” The butler swiftly turns, and before leaving, winks at the hero with a small smile before striding from the room.

“How do you take your tea, Logic? One lump or two, or do you prefer honey?” Deceit asks.

“One lump is adequate.” Logic softly responds as he reaches up to his visor mask, and to Deceits surprise, pulls it off, revealing two red-rimmed brown eyes. Dropping the visor to the floor, he reaches into his tattered jacket and produces a pair of glasses with thick black frames that survived unbroken somehow and slides them on his face. Deceit looks into Logic’s eyes as he hands the teacup to the battered hero and leans back into his chair with his own teacup as he realizes that he recognizes the broken man sitting before him.

“Logan Spaulding.” Deceit murmurs. “I know of you. You hold several doctorates and probably have a IQ higher than the entire mayor’s office combined. I have read all of your published papers. Why do you moonlight as the hero “Logic”? You can just sit in a lab, working for the betterment of mankind instead of hacking computer networks, making gadgets, catching cars and falling rubble with your telekinesis, and being the forensic lab for the other so-called heros this city has to offer. You waste your potential.”

Logan takes a sip of the tea and winces as his split lip objects to the movement. “I am surprised that you know who I am.”

Deceit chuckles. “We could have eventually been colleagues, or even possibly friends, if I hadn’t had my...accident.” He says as he motions toward his mask covered face. “I was the foremost authority on herpetology, with snakes as my focus. They are fascinating creatures. I also was well respected in the genetics and chemistry fields. I was so close to a genetic regeneration breakthrough before my work was stolen and my last experiment explosively sabotaged, injuring me and my lab assistant.”

“You are Drake Conroy. I should have been able to piece it together sooner.” Logan drinks the rest of his tea and sets the cup down on the small side table, wincing as his bruised body complains. “You signed everything you sent to your former employer with D.C., and on every device you used in your attempts to destroy their computers or labs. I noticed that everything you did was only against your former employer and their satellite labs and offices and no one else.”

Deceit downs his tea in one gulp and sets the cup down on the tray. “They need to be held accountable for their treasonous actions. They took my life’s work and tossed me aside like garbage. I have every right to be angry.” Deceit reaches down and grabs the med kit. “Let’s take a look at your injuries, shall we?”

Deceit starts with Logan’s face, taking stock of the minor abrasions, and the split lip, he moves down to the neck, watching Logan’s face for pain indications the entire time. As he raises Logic’s left arm, the hero winces and hisses in pain, and gets the same response when he checks the torso.”I think we should go to my lab. I can do a full body scan there so I will know the full extent of your injuries.”

“You have a body scanner? Wait, you stole it didn’t you?” Logan weakly says as Deceit helps him stand and carefully helps him walk to a nearby elevator.

“Of course, do you think that warehouse I destroyed last week held nothing of value? I got some wonderful brand new state-of-the-art lab equipment on my former employer’s dime. They were none the wiser. They probably think it was all destroyed, and already have received the insurance check.” Deceit chuckles as the hero looks at him with wide eyes. “I could afford to pay for it myself, of course. But it was just so satisfying to just steal it.”

The elevator door opens and Deceit carefully ushers him into a brightly lit and well-organized lab. A young assistant quickly approaches. “Dr. Conroy! Let me help you.”

“Careful of his left arm, Joan. We need to get him to the scanner.” Deceit instructs the assistant as they take Logan over to an examination table, the assistant carefully helping the hero with the task of sitting on the table, and gingerly helping Logan with taking off the tattered dark blue and black jacket, leaving the hero with only a blue undershirt, and helps Logan lay down on the table, grabbing a small pillow from a storage bin on the bottom of the table and quickly putting it under the hero's head as he laid down.

Deceit was powering up the scanner nearby, and as the system booted up, he positions the scanner in it’s starting position above Logan’s head. “Logan, this is Joan. They are my faithful lab assistant, and will be assisting me in your scan. Say hello, Joan.”

“Hello! It is good to meet you, Logan.” Joan says as they offer a hand for a handshake. Logan takes the offered hand and notices smooth green and yellow scales on the back, while giving the assistant a small smile. “A pleasure.”

Logan looks over at Deceit. “I have taken off my mask, why are you still wearing yours?”

Deceit flips some switches on the scanner and turns on the monitor that would display the scan findings. “I am a creature of habit, I’m afraid. If those idiots in the news outlets got a picture of my uncovered face, they would be even more adamant about the ridiculous name they have saddled me with.”

“They made up the name Deceit? Oh, wait. D.C. could easily be twisted by those idiot talking heads. My apologies.” Logan murmurs. “I would still like to see you, your secret is safe with me, I am at your mercy, remember.”

“Yes, you are. So be it.” Deceit grabs the bottom of his mask and pulls it off, showing the injured hero his guarded secret. The left side of his face was covered in yellow and green scales, with his left eye snake-like and yellow. “Behold, the lengths that Sanders Labs would go to steal my life’s work. I think they thought the explosion would kill me, but there was only flying glass and my genetic regeneration serum, Inland Taipei genetic material from another experiment and several other compounds in the destroyed glass beakers that infiltrated the cuts and burns on the left side of my body and eye that caused this. I was saved by the inept positioning of the explosive device. Joan only received burns on their arm and hand helping me out of the burning lab, but the experimental compounds soaking my clothes also got into their burns. They can cover their arm, and live a relatively normal life. My face is a more prominent feature. I rarely leave the house now.”

“Now I know why you preferred to work at night.” Logan whispers. Raising his right hand to touch the smooth scales on Deceits face. Deceit lets it happen without flinching, feels the touch, feather light, then is gone.

“Let us scan you now, shall we?” Deceit says after clearing his throat and pushes a series of buttons, then slowly moves the scanner over Logan’s body, glancing at the monitor occasionally.

“No permanent head trauma, neck looks good, rotator cuff on left arm is torn, right arm is okay, bruised ribs...oh, no.” Deceit stares at the monitor, then whispers to Joan, and the assistant scurries over to a workstation and retrieves a new needle and blood sample vials from the supplies there. “Stay still, they need to take some blood samples.”

Joan deftly and painlessly collects the samples, and quickly strolls over to a complicated machine and inserts a vial, and the machine immediately begins analyzing the blood. A few minutes later, a readout is printed, and handed to Deceit, who reads it and winces, glancing over at Logan with panic in their eyes.

“What did you find? What is going on?” Logan says with wide eyes as Deceit looks at him.

“Who did you fight that brought you to my doorstep, Logan. Don’t leave anything out.” Deceit sternly states, all business as he holds the readout in his hand.

Logic blinks and takes as deep a breath that he could manage with his bruised ribs. “I had to defuse a rather complicated bomb at the diamond exchange, so I had to do it in person since Prince or Morality claimed that they didn’t want to do it, when this mysterious individual jumped me with two others and proceeded to beat the hell out of me. I am not used to physical altercations, so it was a rather easy fight to win. I was taken completely unaware, I couldn't even use my telekinesis. Then I felt something sting me as I lay barely conscious on the ground. When I came to, I made the decision to put myself at your mercy since I had inadvertently read your mind and pulled your address from your thoughts after one of our exchanges last week, and we seem to have mutual respect for one another.” Logan quickly says, slightly panicked.

“You have been poisoned by boomslang venom.” Deceit says. “The people who beat you up wanted you to die an unpleasant death, it seems. It may even have been a hit.”

“The venom is hemotoxic, which destroys red blood cells and disrupts the clotting process. I will die of tissue and organ degeneration and internal bleeding.” Logan says with tears of panic welling in his eyes. “I don’t want to die, not like this.”

“Boomslangs are native to sub-Saharan Africa, meaning there is no anti-venom readily available here, and I won’t be getting a specimen until next week, so I wouldn't be able to make anti-venom until it is too late for you. I told you that they will not hurt you anymore when you appeared on my doorstep, I intend to help you by any means necessary. Luckily, boomslang venom works slowly, and you came here for help. You will not die. Not in my lab.” Deceit states with anger flashing in his yellow eye. He directs Joan to start an I.V. as he walks over to a small storage cabinet.

“I was recently able to steal back my research, and that is how I am going to save you. I know you noticed Thomas's neck. He had burned his hand rather badly one day, as in so bad, he would have lost fingers if he went to a conventional hospital. He came to me, and I was able to heal him. The only side-effect is the scales you undoubtedly saw.”

“You see, my genetic work included the study of the ability of some lizards to regenerate their tails after they have detached them to keep a predator busy as they make their getaway. I was working to apply that regenerative affect to humans during my last experiment. Strangely enough, the explosion combined the correct materials, but I do not know which were the correct ones, and which are just there to apply unwanted side effects. I am forced to combine everything that was on the table, including snake genetic material. I am working to narrow it down, but I have just started, and I only just recently received the correct equipment to do so. The only thing that I have concluded is that the type of snake genetics do not matter, but it will not work correctly without them at the moment.”

“As a kind of odd hobby, I made serums based on all the heroes of this fair city, using samples from snakes that fit their “signature colors”. This is yours. It has Blue Racer and Black Phase white-lipped python samples in it, along with the regenerative and healing serum we will add just before we administer it, because that needs to be freshly made. I do have a little Boomslang genetics in my samples to add to help nullify the venom as well. Are you willing to let me administer this serum to save your life, regardless of any side-effects? This is still very experimental.” Deceit asks, holding the bottle so Logan could see it.

Logan looks at the bottle in Deceits hand, weighing the pros and cons. Pros: he would not die a horrible death. Cons: he could possibly have snake scales on his body. The “not dying a horrible death” part outweighed the cons by a few tons. “Do it.”

Deceit nods and simply says “Restraints, please, Joan.” And Joan appears at Logan’s side, attaching padded wrist and ankle restraints to the table, and proceeding to restrain the hero to the table.

“We don’t want you to hurt yourself even more that you already are.” Deceit says as he works at a nearby counter. “It is simply for your safety. We don’t want you to thrash about and cause more trauma to yourself.” Deceit walks over to the restrained hero, and injects a large syringe full of the prepared serum into the top port of the I.V. bag attached to Logan’s arm and adjusts the flow to go faster. “It will begin soon. I will give you a sedative.” He then prepares another syringe, and injects it at the port nearest Logan’s arm. The heroes eyes flutter closed, as the sedative takes effect.

Joan cuts off the remains of the heroes shirt, and they notice the bruises on the pale torso. “Who do you think did this to him?” Joan asks with a whisper as they take Logan’s glasses off the sedated hero and attach heart monitor electrodes to the pale chest, and begin to hear the steady beeping of the heroes strong heart.

“I do not know, my friend. But when he awakes, we will find out together.” Deceit replies, while watching the bruises begin to fade as the serum takes effect, and a small patch of iridescent shimmering dark blue scales slowly appear under Logan’s right eye.

@5am-the-foxing-hour, @dailypattondoodle, @dangernoodleprotectionsquad, @fandersfic-loceit

Prompt: "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't have wings yesterday, did you?" from Lady_of_Erudite on Wattpad

Pairing: Logince (platonic, could be romantic)

 Roman and Logan stand in the commons, silently staring at each other. "Correct me if I'm wrong," Logan began slowly, "but you didn't have wings yesterday, did you?"

Logan was confused, to say the least. He had simply started his day as normal, waking up at exactly 8am before jumping in the shower and getting dressed in his usual attire, only to come down for breakfast to find Roman turning away from the kitchen counter, munching on cereal... with extremely hard to miss wings.

Roman giggled nervously before looking down at his feet, was he... embarrassed?

Was Logan reading him correctly? He sure wasn't good with emotions but he was positive he had this right. But why the embarrassment? They were magnificent!

Slim but tall, a deep crimson hue in the centre that faded outward into pink, then peach, then gold. Of course they were also covered in sparkles; Logan didn't expect anything less.

"Roman, they are..." for a moment, Logan couldn't find his words, still taking in the iridescent display of soft feathers, "they are remarkable. Astounding! Spectacular..."

Roman looked up then, relief clearly visible on his face which slowly but surely shifted into confidence.

Good, Logan thought, that's more like the Prince he knew and loved.

Before either of them knew It, they were in the imagination, Roman doing all sorts of air tricks and flips... carrying a screaming Logan with him.

"I did not consent to being juggled!"

"Oh be quiet Pocket Protector," Roman said with a smug smile. And Logan did just that. But he still refused to admitt that he actually quite enjoyed the time spent with Roman that day.

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