#analogical angst

[zeni1098]

[halfhissandwich]

“Expressing an unhealthy amount of concern.”

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Hair dye (the things I’d do for you)

a/n: heeeyyyyyy, I’m back on the requests train. I like this one but the amount of editing I did for it is insane. Anyway, thank you @kittuppie for the request and I hope you enjoy!!! (p.s. if it’s not clear Virgil is crying because he believes his feelings for Logan are unrequited) 

Pairings: analogical (Logan x Virgil)

Warnings: crying, curseing, unconsensual kiss (arguably accidental), and some miscommunication. We do things hurt/comfort style in this household baby!

Word count: 1,020

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Virgil leaned back into his weighted blanket. He rubbed his face, still sticky with tears, and tried to slow his ragged breathing. 

He glanced down at his phone and cursed. He shouldn’t have sent that text, Logan didn’t need to know he was crying. No one did, but especially not the subject of his tears. 

He was such a fucking idiot. 

The phone dinged, Virgil's entire body went stiff. ‘I’m on myi way, hang in there’ floated on the screen, another ding, ‘please let me know if your ok’.

A sob bubbled up in Virgil’s throat. 

Spelling errors, his thoughtless text had driven Logan to the point of spelling errors. Virgil’s heavy fingers wouldn’t cooperate as he typed back, ‘I’m fine, pls don’t worry. Sorry if inconvenienced you’

The typing bubble popped up but Virgil turned off the sound and threw his phone across the room. He didn’t want to see the grateful response that would be coming. 

“Idiot” he mumbled again burying his face into his hands. 

Panicking was exhausting. He was so tired. Maybe he should take a nap, he wouldn't have to think while he was asleep.

His eyes fluttered shut. His body relaxed, this was nice. 

Suddenly the sound of a door slamming open crashed through his apartment. 

“Verge!” Logan’s voice called. 

Virgil shot up like a bullet. He scrubbed his face, frantically trying to erase any remnants of the hour he had spent crying. 

Before he could compose himself Logan swung through the doorway with a plastic bag and a determined expression. 

He was missing his signature tie and the top button of his shirt had come undone. His hair was messy and his glasses crooked. But despite his uncharacteristically disheveled state he spoke in the same even tone, “Let's go, we're dyeing our hair, '' 

Virgil blinked at him. “What.” 

Logan sighed, “you are sad, correct?” Virgil nodded, “I don’t like it when you’re sad. Therefore to assist in remedying your sorrow, I bought hair dye” 

Virgil’s confusion gave way to intense adoration. 

He bought hair dye so Virgil might be less sad, how fucking sweet was that. Virgil shrugged off the blanket with some difficulty and peered into the plastic bag, “what colors did ya get?”

“All of them.”

“Excuse me!?” 

Logan looked away awkwardly, “I um- I didn’t think it through. I was near the hair dye aisle at CVS when I got your text so I-'' 

He was cut off by a very warm, very strong hug from Virgil. Logan smiled and hugged Virgil back “Thank you,” the shorter man whispered. 

Logan smiled, “no problem”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

20 minutes later the two men were situated in Virgil’s bathroom. Virgil’s bangs had been clipped back with pink hairpins and was thoroughly stained a neon purple. 

Small flecks of color dotted the man's darker skin, giving him tiny purple freckles to match his usual brown ones. 

He was, objectively, adorable. 

Logan sat on the edge of the tub, Virgil kneeling in front of him. His tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully applied blue to Logan’s hair. His brown eyes sparkled but were still tinged red. 

Logan brushed a fleck of blue off of Virgil’s cheek. 

“Would you like to talk about what is bothering you?” Logan felt Virgil flinch under his fingertips. “No. Not really” he said quietly, returning his attention to Logan’s hair. 

“There, done” Logan nodded and resisted the urge to brush his fingers through his damp curls. “Movie,” he asked. 

Virgil grinned “though you’d never ask”. 

As the end credits rolled Logan and Virgil found themselves curled together on the couch. 

Logan looked down at the man in his lap, Virgil looked back up at him and giggled. 

Holey shit, he was absolutely smitten.

“We should wash it out” Virgil yawned and dragged himself off of Logan’s lap. The man nodded and pulled himself up, “you take the shower I’ll take the sink”

The hair dye ran through his fingers down the drain, operating exactly as expected. The blue-stained to all it touched including Logan’s hands and face. Clean-up was going to be a bitch. 

Logan tousled his hair with a bath towel. With the dark blue stains on his hands and the counter taken care of, Logan moved towards a mirror in the hallway.

His bangs, now dark blue, matched his eyes almost perfectly. It was a cool look, one that Logan was willing to repeat. 

The bathroom door behind him opened softly and Logan’s heart nearly stopped. 

Virgil’s neon purple hair contrasted perfectly with his chestnut skin. His piercing black eyes hid behind a thin curtain of purple but they glittered happily, “well don’t you look nice” Virgil smirked. 

Virgil moved towards him, he brushed his hands through Logan’s messy curls. He might have been saying something, Logan couldn’t tell, he was too busy staring at Virgil.

Logan did realize he was moving until his lips were on Virgil’s. 

For a split second, all Logan could feel were butterflies, and then the panic kicked in. He jolted away from Virgil, his hand flying to his lips. Virgil stared up at him with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry” Logan choked out and bolted. 

The door slammed shut behind him.

Virgil brushed fingertips across his lips, staring at the place Logan had been. Then he grabbed his keys and raced after him. 

By the time Virgil found Logan the sun was dipping into the horizon, painting them both gold. Logan had taken refuge in the parking lot behind the library. He looked so small curled up on the bench, Virgil’s chest squeezed just looking at him. 

He crouched in front of Logan pulled his fingers away from his face. “Hey” Virgil murmured. 

Logan’s cheeks were flushed and his face blotchy, but Virgil smiled when their eyes met. “That was a pretty good kiss,” he whispered, Logan's head shot up.

“But I think I can do better. Mind if I try?” Logan nodded frantically and pulled Virgil towards him, closing the gap between them once again. 

Maybe sending that text hadn’t been such a bad idea. 

[just-a-kitchen-utensil]

Virgil You’re CLEARLY lying to me!

Logan: Virgil, I-

Virgil: You OBVIOUSLY don’t care about me! You gossip behind my back, you probably say things to bring me down... you CLEARLY want me gone!

Logan: Virgil, it’s quite the opposite! I want you here, I want you to be safe, I care -

Virgil (glowing orange eyes): No, you CLEARLY don’t. You hate me. You hate all of us. And now... now you just want me gone. I’m just a dumb dark side to you, and you will NEVER get over that prejudice. 

[voidxgear]

might do a part 2 if you guys like this enough.

edit: part 2

[leecantdraw]

Analogical lineart I probably won’t finish and courtroom Virgil just because-

(Click for better quality)

[logicalnightmare006]

Drowning Sorrows - Analogical

TW: Alcohol, Feelings of not being good enough, Self Hate

Just do it Virgil

Take the bottle

Drown your sorrows

Nobody will care anyway

Virgil was overwhelmed and looking at a bottle of whiskey. He finally grabbed it and took the top off, he started drinking it, his tears streaming down his face as he kept drinking, he soon curled up in the corner of his room, his knees pulled to his chest, loud sobs coming from the small emo as he clutched the whiskey bottle tightly. His thoughts telling him he was useless, hated, irrelevant. It was too much, so he kept drinking..

Logan was in his room, typing on his keyboard. He heard a sob come from Virgil's room and he instantly got up, running into Virgil's room. He saw the whiskey bottle and Logan honestly felt his heart shatter. Why was Virgil drinking? Logan shook the thought away and bent down near Virgil. He gently took the whiskey bottle away and pulled Virgil close. "Virgil? Listen to me. It's gonna be okay, I got you." Logan said softly. He wasn't usually one to show his emotions, but Virgil needed comfort, and Virgil was way more important than Logan's emotions being hidden. Virgil sobbed into Logan's chest, he soon grabbed onto the Logan's shirt and clung to the logical side.  "I'm sorry... My thoughts got too much....." The small emo cried out. Logan felt his heart shatter more. He started stroking Virgil's hair. "Shhhhhh. It's gonna be okay Virgil. If this ever happens again, come get me." Logan responded.

   Virgil eventually, after around 20 minutes, calmed down. He looked up at Logan. "S-s-s-s-sorry" He said quietly, The Logical Side kissed Virgil's forehead "Don't apologize Virgil. It's okay, Just, no more alcohol, Okay?" Logan said, looking down at the small emo. Virgil looked back up at Logan and nodded. Logan nodded back and scooped the other up. He brought the small emo to bed and laid him down. "Get some sleep Virgil, you need it" Logan advised quietly. Virgil nodded and fell asleep.

Weeks went by and Logan had been helping Virgil come down from his alcohol problem, They had even started dating during that and both of them were extremely happy with eachother, Logan was extremely protective of Virgil and very very loving towards the small emo. They loved eachother, and that love was never gonna fade.

Love always helps the worst problems ❤

[awkwardlittlepringle]

Queer ‘n Crazy

Hello fellow Fanders! This is kinda my first sanders sides fanfiction, and my first fanfic on Tumblr! The layout will most probably change over the course of this, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. 😊

Ships : Analogical, background Royality.

Blurb thing : To say Virgil Black hasn’t had the easiest life would be an understatement. Considering all he’s been through, it’s no surprise that he has a few mental illnesses. But that doesn’t mean he appreciates being thrown into some government experiment, even if he does have a gorgeous roommate. 

THIS WILL CONTAIN MENTIONS OF AN ABUSIVE HOUSEHOLD, MENTAL ILLNESSES INCLUDING DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND BI-POLAR DISORDER, AND SUICIDE/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE SUBJECTS, I WOULD ADVISE YOU NOT TO READ THIS. There will be trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, so stay safe, buddies!

Next Chapter

................

Virgil Grant sighed as Set It Off began to play over his headphones. Wincing, he lifted his hand up to brush the side of his face, where a patch of his skin was flaming red. Judging by the stinging, it was definitely going to bruise. Not that Virgil wasn't used to bruises, he'd had his fair share. And not just from testosterone fueled jerks, either.

Despite the music blasting in his ears, Virgil heard a faint shout of " Hey faggot!" come from the neighbors garden. He kept his eyes on his shoes as he walked, too tired to bother dealing with the snide-comments made by the neighbors kids. While he knew he was safe, he couldn't help his heart from picking up the pace.

The comment was usually associated with a fist to the face.

He dragged himself up his doorsteps, shoulders sagging. Humming along to Hourglass, he reached into his coat pocket for the small key that would permit him entry into the brick house in front of him.  A few moments later he unlocked the door to his foster parent's home. Comforting cinnamon-scented warmth enveloped him, a welcomed change from the strangely chilly air outside.

"Janice?" His voice rung through the empty corridor as he made his way down. Despite the fact he was wearing a coat and his hoodie, Virgil shivered at the heavy silence that seemed to have set over the house. "Virgil? We're in the living room, honey." Virgil made a beeline for the door, for a distraction from his troubled thoughts. He moment he stepped through the doorway, he was attacked by a swirl of auburn hair and green shawls. Virgil grinned as he returned his foster mother's hug.

"Virgil! How was school?" She drew away, before gasping. "What happened to your face?"

Virgil frowned, before bringing his hand up to touch the still stinging bruise on his left cheek. "Oh. It's nothing." "Was it those boys again?" asked her husband Mike from his spot on the couch. Virgil nodded. "Yeah. It's no big deal though, they got detention from Mrs Black afterward."

"Still, Virgil. Are you sure you don't want us to complain?" Virgil broke himself out of his foster mum's grasp before heading to the kitchen in the corner of the open-plan room.

"Yeah, I'm sure. The teachers know already, it won't make much of a difference." He started as he caught sight of the silent figure sitting on the couch opposite his parents. Fuck, a warning maybe?

"Virgil!" reprimanded Janice. "What?" he replied still staring at the man. "Language!" He'd said that out loud? "Sorry. Um, who are you?" he said, the question coming off harsher than he intended. "No problem, Virgil. My name is Steven, I'm a social worker. I'm friends with Jess?" The name of the old social worker brought a small smile onto the pale teen's face.

"How is she?" "She's fine." said the man, smiling. "If you wouldn't mind sitting down, we have something to talk about." Virgil shot an alarmed look at his parents, panic bubbling up in his chest. They weren't getting rid of him, were they? Sure he'd only been in two foster homes, but he really, really, liked this one. Sure, school wasn't the easiest, but it still worked!

"Virgil, it's nothing bad. We promise." said Janice smiling. The teen glanced at her skeptically, chewing on his bottom lip. Still, he followed her into the center of the room.

The social worker watched this exchange with interest, directing his attention to Virgil in particular. Once Virgil had taken off his coat, leaving him in his hoodie, the conversation began.

"So you are Virgil, correct?" Virgil blinked. "Yes...?" "And you suffer from depressive anxiety and PTSD?" The names of his disorders put a sour taste in Virgil's mouth. He nodded. "How have you been coping with those lately?" Virgil shrugged. He was liking this less and less by the second. "Um..." "Virgil, darling, please answer the question." To be honest, that made Virgil want to answer it less.

"Uh, the PTSD's okay...?" He looked at his foster father, who nodded encouragingly. "Um, my therapist says I need to try trust people more... The anxiety's alright too, no big issues really." Steven hummed, flipping through a familiar yellow file.

"I spoke to your psychiatrist-" Shit. "He says that he's had to give you a new type on anxiety medication?" "Yeah." "Why is that?" Why? What type of stupid question is that? "Because the old one wasn't working." mumbled Virgil, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

"Any particular reason?" "I dunno! Because it wasn't, okay?" he snapped. "Virgil, calm down-" "I can't." said the teen through gritted teeth, wishing desperately that he could flip up his hood. Steven looking at him concerned. "My apologies, Virgil. I did not mean to overstep my boundaries." Virgil felt quite sure Steven was aware of what he'd been doing. "S'fine."

"Alright, down to business then." That wasn't business?

"Virgil, I do not mean to say I know you more than you do, but it is clear that your mental health has not been the best as of late. Staying with the Wilson's has improved it, certainly, but you might need a bit of extra help." Extra help? What, are they sending me to a nuthouse or something?

"For the past few years, a certain social experiment has been under way. Well, not exactly an experiment, but-" "Virgil, there's this school. We think it can help." Virgil felt like a shard of ice had pierced his chest.

"A-a school? So what, you're going to ship me off to some school for crazy people?" Virgil felt his hands clamp into fists as he stared around at the adults in the room. Mike looked away, uncomfortable, while Janice took his arm.

"Honey, no! We have no intention of shipping you off. But Steven's been talking to us about it, and we think it can help!" "So you're sending me to a nuthouse."

"Virgil, hear me out. Yes, it is a school for people, primarily adolescents with mental health issues. But in no way is it a nuthouse! Think of it more like a rehabilitation center. It teaches young people how to deal with their mental illnesses in real world situations. Kind of like Hogwarts."

Virgil looked at his foster parents, wide eyed. They couldn't actually be considering this, could they?

"Virgil, just give it a try. It could be good for you, you know. Just one term. If you don't like it, you can come right back. It'll be a chance to start over!" "I think I've had plenty of chances to start over." said Virgil, his tone suddenly cold.

"Virgil," he turned to face Steven. "The concept of the school is hard to convey, but everybody who's been sent there in the past few years have all come out better. Most enjoyed it, actually. I now it sounds dodgy, but it works. And it improves the mental state of almost everyone who goes through their system.

"I'm sure you'll have more than a few doubts about this, but it will help you. I say this with absolute certainty. I have to leave now, but take this." He reached into his carrier bag and pulled out a green zip-up folder. "It's information on the school. It can explain more than I can. Janice and Mike already have a copy, but unless you agree to it, we won't take any further steps." Steven flashed him a reassuring smile.

"If you do wish to enroll, however, contact details are in the book. It would be appreciated if you could send your verdict to the school before Monday." Steven stood up, snapping shut the manilla folder in his hand.

"Until next time, Virgil. Mr and Mrs Wilson." A nod of acknowledgement later, and Steven was walking out, accompanied by Janice.

Virgil turned to Mike, who gestured to the folder in his hand.

"Go on, son. Janice and I have already read it." Virgil looked down at the folder, unzipping it quickly. Sure, he liked where he was now, but a change in schools would be appreciated. It's not like he enjoys being beaten to pulp daily.

Virgil scanned through a small booklet titled Queren Institute of Mental Health. Virgil could understand Steven's comparison of it to Hogwarts. The school was comprised of five sections. Not houses, but different categories of mental illness. It seemed that these categories shared dormitories and had similar schedules.

It didn't seem that bad.

Janice walked into the living room and locked eyes with her husband. She walked over to Virgil cautiously, as if trying not to startle him. After sitting herself down, she broke the silence.

"So, what do you think, Virgil?" The purple-clad teen's eyes flickered up to meet Janice's, and he made a nonchalant motion with his head.

"It's okay." he said. "Seems kind of odd, though." "Steven described it as a community," began Janice. "You would go about with normal lessons from nine 'till two, and then you would go for a therapy session. The rest of the day is yours, apart from one elective." By this point Virgil couldn't say he wasn't interested.  

"I'll think about it."

Both his foster parent's faces broke into large smiles.