#logic x creativity

[charliextea]

Logince

In the stars. Among the trees.

[thecrowinacrown]

can someone redraw this with Sanders Sides, please? X)

p.s. Logan is the wife

[62percenthomosexual]

Logince, please :D Thank you :DDD Have a nice day ^~^

Roman was annoyed to say the least. For the hundredth time Patton's goody two shoes attitude came back to bite them all in the butt. Leaving only Patton unharmed. Roman loved Patton, he really did, but sometimes he considered running him over with steamtank and blaming Remus.

He didn't want to start an argument, so for once he reacted logically, instead of staying in an environment causing him to want to break something, Roman left. He went to his room and listened to the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack so loudly it made his walls shake. When the song Waving Through a Window came on, he felt his heart drop. He didn't really know why either. It was a great song…

Give them no reason to stare

No slipping up if you slip away

So I got nothing to share

No, I got nothing to say

Roman choked up and turned in his bed, hugging a pillow close to his chest. He felt like he had no real say anymore. His passions were never enough to warrant self indulgence opposed to Patton’s moral compass telling them to do everything right all the time and never behave selfishly. It wasn't logical to get so worked up over it anyway.

“Why are you crying?”

Roman screamed as he shot into a sitting position, coming nose to nose with Logic who had just sat on the side of his bed. It made both of their cheeks flush in embarrassment.

Logan was surprised to follow Roman after he left and find him crying silently into a pillow. It wasn't like him to be this emotional in the middle of the day, especially when nothing remarkable happened.

Both men stare at each other.

Logan clears his throat and asks again, “why are you crying?” His tone is softer than before, or maybe it's just because Roman was shocked to hear it earlier with no warning. His voice was soft though. It held a gentleness Roman never really heard leave the serious man’s mouth prior to this moment. This moment that felt way too intimate.

Roman feels like crying again, he doesn't though, instead he sinks against Logan. He hugs him warmly, tightly, and expects to be pushed away except he never is. Roman doesn't know how long Logic allows him to cling to his chest but he appreciates every second of it.

On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

'Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass

Waving through a window

I try to speak, but nobody can hear

So I wait around for an answer to appear

While I'm watch, watch, watching people pass

Waving through a window, oh

Can anybody see, is anybody waving back at me?

Roman pulls away from the hug and looks up at Logan with an almost fearful expression. “Why did you follow me?”

Logan smiles, seeming to be excited about his answer, “because I saw you waving through the window Princey.”

His answer is enough to make Roman laugh, his entire mood changing from negative to abrupt positivity. It makes him laugh. He laughs loud and freely, a deep belly laugh. He appreciates it, the joke Logan gave him… It felt like a small gift, a sign that he was really here.

It's enough for Roman to throw caution to the window and kiss Logan. His logic flying away as he lets his love take over. He replaces logic with the happiness he feels kissing Logic.

It's safe, Roman is seen. Roman’s self indulgence isn't selfish here or unnecessary. It's reciprocated with the same eagerness and self satisfaction and love.

Logan sees Roman, his Prince,

Waving through his castle window.

i hope you like this!!

also i strongly relate this song to Roman!

[mothydraws]

Could you draw some Logince for the soul?

...soft

[voidoflogic]

Sad Logince moodboard

[hydra-collector]

God of Mine, Shall We Dream Ch. 1

I’m posting a fanfic! Heh I don’t really know how to do trigger warnings so if I should have put something please tell me.

Pairing: Logince AU: Gods Words: 1,003 Summary: Logan and Roman are the architects of the universe who meet each other for the first time.

    It’s quiet.

Huh. I didn’t know you could do that.

    Think?

That’s fun.

    Where are we?

I’m not sure.

    There’s nothing… logical here.

Ooh! New words!

    I supposed we’ve made a form of communication.

Should we… be somewhere?

    I suppose so. What kind of place?

I’ll… make it with my head. How about that?

    Okay.

There was something. A very dramatic something. Creation thought he’d call it a palace, but his mind.

    A mind palace, Regulation suggested. No, “A mind palace,” Regulation suggested.

“I suppose we’re still getting used to this world.” Creation noticed the dark walls and absent lighting. “Who are you?”

    “Uhm, I think… Regulation. What about you?”

“Creation, it seems.” He looked around at the room. “Should we be… something? I mean, we’re just kind of… here, but is that okay? Is it convenient to really be here?”

    “That seems reasonable to me.” Regulation then put an object to a voice. He’d call it a body. “Hmm… Is this appropriate?” He moved around a bit before making a few decisions as how to do it.

Creation paused for a second, looking Regulation over. If he had a body, he would have smiled in admiration at that point. “I think that’s good.” He suddenly poofed into existence. It appeared that he was a bit lower than Regulation, and his limbs a bit thicker and harder.

    Regulation took in the new body in front of him and nodded slowly, smiling. “Nice.”

Creation grinned with his mouth opened and voiced a quiet “eh?”

    “I suggest we examine this note,” Regulation mentioned, picking up a small, unfolded piece of paper. “It reads,

    Dear Creation and Regulation, It has been decided that you two will utilize the roles of your names to create a functioning, living universe. Creation will make a “first draft,” or first version, of the universe. They must also create beings that are labeled as “living.” What this means is ultimately up to them, but assuming that the pair of you are living is a good place to start. After Creation has made this draft, it is up to Regulation to set laws by which the universe will abide. Each place and thing don’t have to follow the exact same rules, but there should be a few universal ones. Once the universe is finished, your jobs will not be done. Creation will continue monitoring the new things to appear in the world, and Regulation must keep everything under control.     Your friend,     Anon

“Anon? What does that mean? Who sent this? And why do we have to make a ‘universe,’ anyway? What authority does this mysterious writer have over us?” Creation was getting a bit riled up about this, so Regulation stepped in.

    “Calm down a bit, Creation. Maybe revealing their identity would hurt us, or our probability of listening to the note. And, right now, we really don’t have anything else to do, so we might as well make a universe.” He smiled sweetly and genuinely, placing his hand on Creation’s new shoulder. 

Creation relaxed at Regulation’s soft words and touch. They weren’t exactly best friends at this point, but their relationship was the only thing they knew they could trust. They had shared thoughts at one point, which indeed builds a lot of trust in a short time.

    “Well, you’re the one who’s supposed to build the universe at first, right?” Regulation asked this nervously, due to the recent negative energy from Creation. He asked despite this in fear of being too late for making the universe, of not having enough time.

“Yes, but should we not build our bland home? It’s quite boring so far.” Creation grinned excitedly, pulling up his hands to a regal position. “Shall we begin?”

    “Creation, I really don’t think we should waste time on making a silly little-”

“When I am finished, it will not seem as such. And while we’re making things, don’t you think we should make each other a title other than ‘Creation’ and ‘Regulation’? A bit of a mouthful every time we’re addressed.”

    “I don’t think-”

“I’ll name you Logan!”

    Regulation was a bit confused and quite tired at this point. “Wh-why?”

“It quite fits you, you know. And it’d make me happy if you joined me in this idea.” He looked up pleadingly.

    Regulation, ugh, Logan, conceded. “If you think it would be best, I will accept the name. And if you so desire, I’ll give you a name. But I need time to think. For now, let’s get over with building this palace.”

Creation did a little celebration within himself before catching a glare from Logan and moving on. His arms waved skillfully as he warmed the walls, brightening it a bit with well-designed lamps. He added a comfortable loveseat and extra armchair (words he was making up in the moment) to relax in. With a bit of hesitation but then a small wave, a large shelf of books appeared on the back wall of the room.

“I thought you could record about the universe in them. There’s plenty of space.” He caught a smile from Logan before continuing to accessorize the room with pretty baubles and patterns. To finish off, a plate of fruit arrived with a flourish.

    “What are those?”

“Not sure,” he shrugged. “They seemed as if they’d go well with the design.”

    Logan nodded approvingly as he looked over the room. It was cozy, quiet and thoughtful, especially because of Creation’s added shelf of books. Bookshelf? Bookshelf. “Now, Roman-”

“What?”

    “I named you Roman.”

Roman rolled the word over in his mind. “Roman,” he whispered to himself in slight distaste.

    Logan shrugged and continued. “Roman, it is about time for you to begin designing our universe. You have to be the first step.” He gestured towards a clear opening behind them showing absolutely nothing. It did not even appear black. It gave the feeling of the checkerboarded white and gray backdrop that signifies no color.

“Alright,” Roman said a bit begrudgingly, but smiled as he turned to wield his power.

“Let’s make a universe.”

[theromnempire]

A Little Bit of Rain

Title: A Little Bit of Rain

Word Count: 1,359

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: Mention of murder, mild swearing, fluff

Summary: Logan, in a very stressed state, goes to a coffee shop to finish up some things for work. However, he finds himself caught up in the rain with the barista that had made him black coffee after black coffee, listening as, for once, he lets himself talk totally free.

-

The world was dark and Logan was tired.

Rain fell heavily against the clear coffee shop window, drops leisurely dancing downwards until the dropoff at the bottom. Logan watched them, understanding their purpose in the world.

But he was starting to lose his, the knowledge of why exactly he was here—at this Starbucks but also on Earth at all—slipping through his fingers like those very same drops of water, trickling through his fingers until his palms were dry and only his eyes remained wet.

The coffee cup before him had been refilled six times now, Logan’s eyes wider than they had ever been and the wrinkles beneath them obvious to the barista giving him concerned looks every time he ordered another drink.

“Black,” he would say and the man—Logan’s eyes dipping to see the nametag read “Roman” and then a little passed that before returning back up to the other’s hazel eyes—would give him a sympathetically look.

He had been in this situation before, of course, but never had he hated his job more.

A hand brushed against his shoulder and he shot around, espresso and adrenaline keeping him alert enough to react. But it was the barista, expression warm despite the weather, and his hair was curlier than normal.

“James, right?”

Logan, who had never given his real name to a barista in his life, said nothing. “Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all-”

“Then why are you talking to me?”

Roman didn’t falter, not really at least. “I’m on my break, and you look like you could use some company.”

“I don’t,” Logan replied, looking back towards the various papers stretched before him. A police report, witness testimonies, pictures of the murder weapon, and on his computer, the same gruesome video playing over and over of the suspect shooting a man between the eyes.

Logan should have been a prosecutor, should have known that his morals would be sacrificed when he became a public attorney because, really, it wasn’t keeping the innocent from being incarcerated.

It was a way to make money and Logan had been too far in the process—had invested too much money in law school—to back out when the gravity of it hit him.

“Well,” Roman said, hand sliding from Logan’s shoulder down to his wrist, Logan too tired to stop him. “I’m on my break and I-”

“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

Roman’s lips twitched upwards at that, eyes flickering to the computer with the released footage. “Well of course not, that can’t really put you in the mood for a quickie.”

He was damn right about that.

“I just . . . want to talk.”

“About what?”

“Whatever you want.”

“But I-”

Roman interrupted him, “You’re on, what? Your seventh cup?”

“Is this in your job description?”

“No, but get up because you’re depressing all the other customers.”

There was no suitable response to that, Logan closing his laptop and shuffling his papers before slipping them into his bag, too tired to argue further. “I’m leaving my things here, don’t want to lose the spot.”

In response, Roman shrugged, an I can’t blame you before motioning for Logan to follow him out the door.

The rain hadn’t stopped for them but at least it was more quiet than the bubbling cafe with its irritatingly bright lights and, in contrast, the dark clouds making three in the afternoon look like dusk.

Roman seemed to know where he was going, Logan following around a corner until they arrived at a park, the trees doing little to shelter them from the rain as they sat on a quiet, wooden bench.

Water made it damn near impossible for Logan to see through his glasses and he had to wipe them on his drenched shirt, looking up to see how it had curled Roman’s hair even more. “So, James, what is stressing you out?”

Logan didn’t think he would say anything, want to or even need to, but it came out naturally. “My client killed a man.”

A pause, Roman waiting for Logan to elaborate and while he could have left it at that, it’s not what he wanted, not really. “And I have to defend a murderer. It’s all there, three solid witnesses, no alibi, and a goddamn video of him in the act. This man is a fascist, racist, homophobic piece of shit and I have to defend him in court because my firm passed the case to me.”

His voice was steady and detached, the way he talked to or about rapists and abusers. People that he knew deserved what they got but didn’t make it any easier for him to try to lighten their sentences.

Because his job was to test the legal system in cases like this and he knew that. But this death felt like it had been his own, Logan more than once shooting up from a nightmare in which the last thing he saw before morning’s light was a pair of hellish-red eyes staring into his own, gun cocked, and a slur on his lips before firing his pistol.

“What was the motive?”

Logan laughed, realizing just how damn illegal this was. But damn attorney-client confidentiality. “His victim was a gay man holding hands with his boyfriend. Guilty only of love.”

“Oh.”

The rain fell harder, rolling down their shoulders and spines and dripping into their sneakers. In the distance, a young girl raced across the grass with a red ladybug umbrella in her hand, older brother chasing after her with a grin across his lips. Logan could hear their laughter from the bench, feel it penetrate his skin and threaten to fill the darkness currently reigning inside him with light.

Or maybe that was the hand suddenly atop of his, touch gentle and caring and everything Logan hadn’t realized he needed.

“It’s okay.”

Two words heavier than gold.

Logan said nothing, staring into the translucent veil before them clouding his vision, body cold and shivering but hand warm. Damn near scorching.

“James-”

“Logan,” he said, lips moving but otherwise remaining still, “my name is Logan.”

“Oh,” Roman said again, hand retreating then but Logan moved, catching the other’s wrist before his hand slipped into his, guided by the rain.

The feeling was unlike any Logan had ever experienced before, so unlike everything he knew.

“Logan,” he said then, eyes set on the scenery before them, redness in his cheeks but refusing to look at their joined hands. “Why does this case stick with you?”

It was a question Logan had been asking himself over and over again, knowing the answer on a subconscious level but not wanting to say it.

Then, after a moment, “Because it could have been me. I don’t have a partner now but I’m not opposed to having one but . . . it could have been me and him.”

Roman squeezed Logan’s hand, and only then did the lawyer pull away, glad that the rain concealed his salty tears, “Come on, I’ll catch a cold if we’re out here any longer. And your break can’t last too much longer, can it?”

Thankfully, the other didn’t mention how much coarser his voice had grown. “They kind of let me do what I want because I make the best coffee,” he said instead, a thrilling grin across his lips that, despite all logical reasoning, made butterflies soar in Logan’s stomach.

“Well, then use that ability to get yourself something to eat or screw one of your coworkers like normal people do.”

Standing up to join Logan, Roman’s shoulder brushed against his as he offered him one last grin, “Maybe another time.”

They returned to the cafe, Roman behind the counter and Logan to his seat. Utterly drenched but feeling a bit better than before. From a few feet away, Logan could hear laughter from one of the employees, turning to see a girl rustling Roman’s hair and telling him how weird he was. The other looked up then, something sparkling in his eyes that Logan couldn’t put his finger on.

Yes, he was odd, but before he left the cafe for the day, he got his number.

-

prompted by @actlikeiknow

[mothantics]

Logan: *wearing a shirt*

Roman: nice

Logan: *wearing a shirt with the first few buttons undone.*

Roman: nICE