#Werewolf!Logan

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Witch Logan *working on a potion*: And then we'll need- Werewolf Janus: Got it. Witch Logan: Oh, thank you, next we'll need- Werewolf Janus: Here. Witch Logan: Right.. next is- Werewolf Janus: Here you go! Witch Logan: ... Thanks. Werewolf Janus: No problem. Witch Logan: ... Werewolf Janus: ..? Witch Logan: Janus, how did you know the things I was asking for? You grabbed them before I could say their name. Werewolf Janus: Uhh... I'm not sure. Amongst all these ingredients it just felt like the thing you were asking for... Witch Logan: Huh? Werewolf Janus: I have no idea. To be fair, I don't even know what potion you're making. Witch Logan: And yet you knew what ingredient I was just going ask for? Werewolf Janus *scratching at the back of his neck*: I- yeah? Witch Logan: Interesting... very interesting indeed. - Later - Witch Logan *bolting upright in his bed*: Oh by the spirits and gods, I'm such a fool! Werewolf Janus *bleary eyed and half asleep*: Whu-? Witch Logan *grabbig Janus's face by the cheeks*: You're my familiar that's why you knew what I needed before I could say it, back when we were making that potion! Werewolf Janus: *blinks up at Logan, still half asleep, before giving him a sleepy smile in return*

#Sanders Sides #Wolfsbane au #Loceit #Janus #Logan #Witch Logan #Werewolf Janus #incorrect quotes #shitpost

[why-i-love-comics]

Tales of the Titans #4 - "Surrounded by Wolves" (2023)

written by Andrew Constant art by Brandt, Stein, & Lee Loughridge

#beast boy #werewolf #garfield logan #anthony lupus #DC #wednesday spoilers #spoilers #comic spoilers

[jays-supersonic-dynamo]

doodled my idea for BIG LOGAN from the new sets

#my art #fanart #lego dreamzzz #logan chan #logan dreamzzz #dreamzzz spoilers #i am running with this werewolf idea alright i am SPRINTING with it #babygirl is growing up….. my man……. #he desperately needs some new clothes so BAD my god…… #anyway im a little rusty w them but…. The Dreamzzz Sillies my beloveds!

[i-am-church-the-cat]

i love how wild Logan is in the deity AU he truly is an untamed animal compared to Dalton and Oscar (ex: tendency to bite, giving gifts like a cat, needed a blinder to calm down). Is there any reason behind this?

Okay so I'm hoping future installments will showcase how other people exhibit their god's symbol's traits, but for the comparison with Oscar and Dalton:

Oscar: Poppy's symbol is a koala who doesn't really have instincts besides sleep, eat, have sex and i tried to show that a little bit in the guard dog chapter of dogged, like he's just there to experience the best things in life and get pampered

Dalton: So this is interesting bc Dalton was 100% as feral as Logan when he was a kid. He's so exasperated with Logan in first kill bc he's been in his shoes and knows Logan is being Weird and he's the only one who can be like "hey stop doing that". Also, in first kill, the urge Dalton had to start yelling at people definitely has to do with the kind of instincts his god symbol has.

The main difference is that Oscar and Dalton's gods are gods of IDEAS and Logan's god is the god of an ACTION. that's why his powers appear a lot more viscerally, bc he's drawn to carry out that action.

Two people who act the same way is Max and Daniel. Max's god is the god of conquest, so he has a kind of similar hyperfixation to dominate. Daniel's god is the god of escape/fighting against being trapped so he definitely acts feral when he gets put into that situation, in the same way Logan goes very animalistic when he's put in a hunting position.

Logan doesn't act feral all the time, he only acts like that when he's in the process of hunting something. it's just that's what the idea spurned from and i love to write it so he's always in that mindset lol

#i love talking about hdd so much #this is like. all my werewolf knowledge coming to the surface lolololol #but yeah hdd logan is kind of a wild animal <3 #logan sargeant #oscar piastri #dalton sargeant #series: hunting down dreams #hi maggie :) <3 #ask answered

[tokillamockingbird427]

Headcanon: Elias literally talks about "His babies" so often and so adoringly that people assume Logan+David are like.... at most, late teens.

They are VERY surprised to discover that "No" those are two grown ass men with military careers and hair on their faces that Elias just cannot help but baby apparently.

How has Elias waxed poetic about all their accomplishments without said people catching on that Logan+Hesh were grown men? Well he always goes "My babies" when reflecting on their past (ie "I was so proud when my babies got their first deer.") and then "The boys/My boys/their names" when in the present. (ie "My boys destroyed the climbing wall. Literally. It needed to come down and they volunteered. :) But before then they were also the record holders for the fastest runs, yes.") So people just assumed?? He had?? Four kids??? With a decent age gap between each.

#Logan + Hesh not only have to fight the werewolf allegations but also infantilization from their OWN DAD #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #logan walker #hesh walker

[delimeful]

how easy you are to need (redux) (6)

warnings: PTSD, misunderstandings, panic attack/anxiety spiral, MASSIVE miscommunication moment this chapter, brief mentions of past death, lmk if im missing any!

-

Despite having every intention of plotting escape, Virgil found himself spending the bulk of the next few days sound asleep.

He’d suspected foul play, something slipped into the meals that they kept freely giving him, but there was nothing unnatural or forced about his rest.

His body and mind had been pushed to their limits, and he was simply exhausted.

The humans did their best not to disturb him, but he was restless, his mind always registering the wrongness of his surroundings and trying to drag him back into consciousness. He woke the moment one of them stepped into the room, no matter how brief or silent the intrusion.

He didn’t open his eyes or twitch when this happened, morbidly curious to see how they would behave if they thought he wasn’t aware and watching their every move. He laid there with his heart racing, listening keenly to catch the muffled steps and soft breathing, waiting for the inevitable moment that one of them approached.

They never did.

When he wasn’t sleeping, the humans held meals with him. Unperturbed by his stubborn silence, they would chatter on just as much as they had back when he’d taken refuge under their floorboards, the thread of conversation frequently derailed by quips and rambling anecdotes.

He thought he had figured it out after that first night, between the food he’d assumed was drugged and the sting of the silverware in his grip— not pure silver, but close enough to burn.

But he’d only felt more and more clear-headed as time passed, and the moment one of them had noticed his fingers spasming around a fork, they’d all kicked up a fuss and instantly swapped the silver utensils out for carefully carved wooden ones.

As though that wasn’t enough, Logan continued to check on his wounds with precise regularity, and despite the fear that rose in Virgil whenever the scent of medical supplies filled the air, the human never took so much as a hair from his head.

His care seemed designed to be as painless as possible, from the way he carefully instructed Virgil through each step of administering treatment to the damp, oven-warm cloth he would press against bandages to keep scabs from tearing free when the padding was changed.

It was bizarre, and Virgil didn’t know how to handle it.

He could see why they would want to keep his wounds clean and uninfected. It made sense; they wanted him all healed up by the full moon, not sickly and delirious in the grips of a fever.

That didn’t explain the rest of it. The meals, the sleep, the way they listened.

The way restraints still hadn’t appeared, even as he slowly but surely regained his strength.

They might have called his bluff, somehow realized that he was too weak (too attached) to turn his teeth against them, but any hunter worth their blade knew better than to rely on such an uncertain assumption.

Especially not when he could potentially do so much damage, placed in the soft, unguarded center of their home.

There was nothing to gain. His body would serve its purpose to them whether it had spent the last few weeks on a silk cushion or a stone cell floor. Why would they risk it?

Once he’d successfully spent most of the day awake, and even shuffled through the house without tearing any stitches, they seemed to deem him well enough to hold a coherent conversation.

(He’d actually been trying to count all the potential exits, maybe even see what sort of lodestone Logan was using for the ward. When Patton had caught him slinking around, he hadn’t seemed suspicious or angry at all, only overwhelmingly enthusiastic about his health improving.

He also hadn’t seemed at all wary about stumbling upon the unrestrained captive that had taken him hostage the last time they were alone, because of course he hadn’t. How had these idiots even survived this long?)

“Did you like the meatloaf?” Patton asked him, over halfway through his own meal. The three of them tended to occasionally neglect their dishes in favor of rambling conversation or spirited arguments, so Virgil was almost always done well before them.

They also tended to not ask him such direct questions, and Virgil blinked in silent surprise for a moment, waiting for him to realize his mistake.

Instead, Patton let the silence stretch, unperturbed, for long enough that Virgil finally gave a half-hearted shrug.

“His plate speaks for itself, does it not?” Roman jumped in eagerly, tilting his head towards the empty space where the meatloaf had– very briefly– sat.

Virgil resisted the urge to snort, shifting in mild discomfort at becoming the topic of conversation. They could have put basically anything edible on his plate and gotten the same result. He knew better than to turn down food.

“Dishware can’t speak,” Logan informed him blandly. “Or consume and judge the quality of food, for that matter.”

Virgil felt a flare of amusement at the look on Roman’s face, and the words slipped out without thought. “He’s got you there.”

Three pairs of eyes flicked over at the barely-audible statement, and he only barely resisted the urge to shrink back. Surprisingly, none of them seemed mad, although Roman was visibly torn between surprised delight and dismay.

“Well, I thought it was just loaf-ly,” said Patton, because he was the funniest one there. Virgil’s lips twitched as Roman settled fully into dismay with a groan.

“Must you mock me?” Logan asked with a longsuffering air.

“Your recipe was delicious!” Patton continued. “I’d love to meat the ones who made it!”

Roman groaned louder.

“You’ve already met my family?” Logan replied, confused. “My mother– ah. You were engaging in more juvenile wordplay. More the fool I.”

“I pan do this all day!” Patton paused, and then shrugged. “That one would have worked better if it was still in the baking pan.”

Roman cleared his throat.

“Wow, Specs, I didn’t know this was your family’s recipe,” he said, his words just a little too over-exaggerated. “Are they going to come to visit any time soon?”

Virgil kept his gaze on his cleared plate, trying to force down the sickening lurch in his stomach. More humans. Just what he needed.

Logan hummed. “At this point in the season, I imagine they’re very busy with the farm. If they do decide to visit, they will let me know well in advance. And yours?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve gotten a letter.” Roman’s expression soured. “Not that it matters. If he decides to visit, he’ll let me know about five seconds before he kicks the door in. Probably by screaming at the top of his lungs.”

Despite all the irritation in his expression, there was worry hidden there, too. Virgil was also feeling worried, admittedly for entirely different reasons.

(For some people, hunting was the sort of thing that ran in the family.)

“At least his visits are always… exciting!” Patton tried, sounding a little uncertain himself. “What about you, Mister Wolf?”

The words registered a beat late, and Virgil’s head jerked up enough to see that they were all looking at him, again. “What?”

“I know you’ll only be here for a little bit, but I know I always worry when my loved ones are injured, especially if I can’t be by their side,” Patton elaborated. “Should we be on the lookout for any potential visitors?”

Understanding hit Virgil like a fever, his blood running cold for a moment before spiking into an unbearable furious heat.

So that was why. He should have known.

“You won’t find anyone out there,” he forced through grit teeth. A low growl had started vibrating in his chest, and he relished in the way the three of them went taut at the noise. “There’s no one to find. If there was, I would never give them up. No matter what.”

Maybe he should have lied, pretended that there was a reason for them to keep treating him with this targeted kindness. Lead them on with stories about a pack that didn’t actually exist, make them believe he was nothing more than a naive idiot, act as though he didn’t have a single clue as to what they were trying to do. It would probably have made escaping easier.

It didn’t matter. Anger had overtaken fear, sharp and fire-bright, and now all he wanted to do was burn. They could do whatever they wanted to him, use the stick now that the carrot had so miserably failed, and it still wouldn’t ever be enough to make him give up a pack. Not to a fate as cruel as this.

Movement caught his eye, and his head snapped up with teeth bared, a snarl at the tip of his tongue as he braced for an attack–

The humans had retreated.

“We’ll leave you be,” Logan said, and Virgil realized that at some point, he’d corralled the other two out of the room and into the hall; he could see Patton’s arm around Roman’s shoulder, the two of them casting worried looks back as they shuffled away. “We didn’t mean any offense. Please call on me if you need anything.”

When Virgil only stared, his growl still rumbling from deep within him, Logan nodded once and slid the divider door into place, his footsteps retreating shortly after.

The dishes had been left where they were. Virgil’s plate was shattered, the ceramic pieces laying heavy on his lap. It was quiet.

They’d left him alone. By now, they had to know baiting him wouldn’t work. And still, they’d given him space, backed off instead of pushing on with other, more painful tactics. It didn’t make any sense.

Unless they had some other way of getting what they wanted.

Virgil curled in on himself, his growl cutting off as panic doused him. Logan knew enough about spellcraft to make potions, to set wards, to locate leylines. If they knew something Virgil didn’t, if they knew enough about magic to twist it to their own ends, and if they knew a way to find other wolves through him without his participation– if they knew about packbonds, and had a way to reveal his…

So what? He didn’t have a pack, not anymore. He didn’t have a pack. He didn’t, except.

Did any packbond count? Even ones that had only existed for a day?

The thought sent icy nausea through him, and he gripped a shard of the ceramic hard enough to break skin, his breath coming too-quick and catching in his throat.

No, no, no. He couldn’t panic. He couldn’t afford to pass out, not when he didn’t know what they might do to him while he was under. Who they might find.

Unfortunately, knowing he had to stop panicking and actually calming down were two entirely different things.

Black spots dotted his vision, and he passed out between one frantic inhale and the next.

—

He woke to something touching his shoulder, and ingrained reflexes had him snapping a hand out, lips curling up to bare teeth.

“Oh!” a voice exclaimed quietly, and Virgil froze.

It took a few blinks to make out Patton’s form in the dark. He had the human by the wrist, his claws pricking at skin, but he seemed more sheepish than anything.

There was a blanket slipping off his shoulder, one that hadn’t been there before.

The sight of it sent a miserable curl of guilt through him, one that was quickly dampened by the memory of what had happened before he’d passed out.

His hand sprang open as he scanned the room for the other two, desperately straining his senses for any trace of magecraft that had been performed on his person, only to come up empty on both counts.

It was only Patton, standing there in the dark with his hands clasped tightly.

There was a beat of silence, in which all he could think about was that one ephemeral, damning packbond, and everything he’d do to keep it undiscovered.

If he could just convince them to settle for one. For him. He could behave, he would swear it, he would beg–

“I’m sorry,” Patton said, which was so surprising that it practically stole the voice from his throat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, asking that sort of thing at dinner.”

‘Didn’t mean to hurt’ him? How stupid did he think Virgil was? Or worse, how cruel?

“How would you feel,” he forced out, “if I’d asked you that. And it was your pack.”

The words were hardly more than a rough whisper, but Patton reeled back as though struck.

“I know,” he replied after a moment, his voice thicker now. “I know. We weren’t– It wasn’t meant to bring back painful memories. I swear. We only wanted to know if there was anyone missing you, and we didn’t think about how you would feel if… if there wasn’t. We– I, of all people, should have known better.”

Virgil’s brow furrowed as he listened, a small spark of hope flaring to life in him. It sounded like… like Patton had taken him at his word.

Was it possible that he had a chance, after all?

“Yeah, well. I should have known you’d ask,” he said, trying to keep his voice under control. “Still, it doesn’t change my answer.”

Patton inhaled, his words coming out slightly wobbly. “You really don’t have anyone? It’s… It’s just you?”

Virgil swallowed, aware that he was walking into the trap of his own volition. Once there was nothing else to drag from him, there was no reason for them to keep treating him like this.

“Yeah. It’s just me.”

Patton exhaled, slow and shaky, and reached out for Virgil’s hands. His face was hardly visible in the low light, but he was moving slow enough for there to be a question in the motion. Trying to see if he would cooperate?

Restraints right away, then.

Well. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t fight if it would keep them from tracking down the only good thing left in his past.

He held his hands out and braced himself for the burn of silver.

Instead, he felt two warm points of pressure against his palms. Patton was holding his hands firmly but harmlessly, in a grip that Virgil could break away from with a twitch. He was rubbing small circles on the side of Virgil’s hands with his little dull-edged thumbs.

It was a soothing gesture. A gentle one.

Virgil stared dumbly down at the shapeless mass their hands formed in the dark.

“Why?” he asked, unable as always to keep himself from looking the gift horse in the mouth. “Why are you treating me like this? You have to know this isn’t necessary.”

Patton withdrew slightly, seeming almost startled.

“I’m not doing it because it’s necessary, kiddo. I’m doing it because I want to. Because it seems like maybe you need it.”

“You don’t even know me,” Virgil replied, his hands twitching the slightest amount. They were beginning to tingle with that strange warm sensation that he’d felt when Logan had carried him.

“I know that you protected my partners,” Patton replied steadily. “I know that you probably saved my life, and got hurt something awful in the process. Is it so strange that I’d want to comfort you?”

Virgil paused.

That’s right. He’d saved them.

It wasn’t that he’d forgotten, it was just that he hadn’t expected it to matter. The moment they’d realized what he was, his fate had been sealed. To humans, shifters were dangerous and valuable, and so they couldn’t be allowed to live.

Even his humans knew it. Why else would he be here, locked behind wards to wait for the full moon?

It was a necessity, but that didn’t change who they were. He’d spent all this time bracing for a blow, waiting for the cruelty and malice that he’d experienced at the hands of humans before. Yet it hadn’t come.

Maybe it wasn’t coming at all.

“You want me… to be comfortable,” he tried, the words strange on his tongue.

“Of course!” Patton replied. “It’s the least we can do to repay you.”

Virgil nodded slowly, finally grasping the shape of the puzzle that had been placed before him.

Back when he was a pup, his pack had run across a solitary wolf, badly wounded. There was nothing they could do to save her, but the pack stopped anyway. They’d curled up around her, shared what meat they had from the morning’s hunt, and invited her to sing when dusk fell. For the handful of hours she’d had left, she’d been one of theirs.

His humans had their own sense of honor. They couldn’t afford to let him live, but it was thanks to him that their small pack hadn’t been torn to shreds. This gentleness, the way they held meals with him and offered him conversation and tended his wounds, it was their way of showing gratitude.

He could trust it would stay.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

Until the full moon rose again, he was one of theirs.

#sanders sides fic #werewolf au #heyatn #heyatnr #how easy you are to need #ts virgil #ts patton #ts roman #ts logan #my writing #writing

[mye-chi]

the crew really slapped logan into the pdh uniform and called it a day but then gave him the shiny shoujo HD eyes in mermaid tales huh

#it's not a big deal since they're both just cameos for older fans #but god they're both sooo silly #they didn't even attempt to deage him in pdh they just went through the wiki for werewolf characters #aphmau #pheonix drop high #aphmau mermaid tales #aphmau logan #( 🍰 ) ⸻ frills thoughts

[thattripleabattery]

Ok now I’m hyper fixated on both xmen evolution, the xmen movies, and Pacific rim if anyone wants to give me asks

🥺

👉👈

(I also really like moon knight, werewolf by night, Lego monkie kid)

#xmen #x men #xmen evolution #x men evolution #logan howlett #Wolverine #newt geiszler #newton geiszler #pacific rim #hermann gottlieb #newmann #ororo munroe #storm #rolo #storm x wolverine #moon knight #werewolf by night #jack russell #steven grant #marc spector #Lego monkie kid

[dischordantcerebralballistics]

Jenny Agutter. My first crush ♥️♥️

#sexy #beautiful #beauty #long hair #actress #logan's run #Equus #An American Werewolf In London #The Railway Children #Walkabout #Survivor

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Saw these poses and brain went "draw for Wolfsbane au" and thus... here we are.

A bookworm who fell asleep while reading.

Roman finally got to tag along to a market as his tiny self. Virgil and Remus getting surprised by some rain.

Original poses by Mellon_soup on Instagram

Pose 1 I Pose 2 I Pose 3

#Sanders Sides #Janus #Remus #Roman #Logan #Patton #Loceit #Vampire Virgil #Werewolf Janus #Fey roman #Fey Remus #Witch Logan #Wolfsbane au #Digital art #TsArt #My art #my energy for details kinda died after Janus and Logan's one XD

[abusivelittlebunny]

No comment

Leon Kennedy who? My boy Boyd wants to get his twink hole resized by that gigantic monster dick now!!! Let him get his guts rearranged in a near death experience!!!!!

He's a tall guy bet he fucking loves feeling small and dainty next to such a massive fucking monster. Please God tell me there's a big beefcake packed in that suit whose job was to throw boyd around like a ragdoll and got paid extra every time boyd creamed himself on set and moaned harder daddy~♡

#look how open his legs are my god #he's definitely thinking about getting gutted with that monster dick #Donald's probably a monster fucker too which comes handy with the werewolf hunter au i have in mind #where Logan can transform into a massive beast of a werewolf and Donald wants to be bred by him in that form so baddd #logan x donald #boyd holbrook

[why-i-love-comics]

Tales of the Titans #4 - "Surrounded by Wolves" (2023)

written by Andrew Constant art by Brandt, Stein, & Lee Loughridge

#beast boy #werewolf #garfield logan #anthony lupus #DC #wednesday spoilers #spoilers #comic spoilers

[itsladyliv]

it’s not that i have a type, you see... BUT-

#LISTEN-- #pls dont come for me #i just think they're neat #werewolf by night #jack russell #x men apocalypse #elsa bloodstone #they make me FEEL alright #jean grey #wolverine #split 2016 #Casey x Kevin #casey cooke #logan howlett #x men #sophie turner #jean x logan #anya taylor joy #james mcavoy #idk guys #the feral animal guy whos really sweet inside #and the sweet kind girl whos really badass #it works #marvel #mcu

[i-am-church-the-cat]

Who's the blackcat?

Personally I believe Oscar's the black cat and Logan's the golden retriever. For many reasons but I think the best example of it is the marshmallow section of the Prema Trio food challenge video. (It should start there, but if not, the timing is 5:08.) Specifically, the part where Oscar is just dead eye staring at Logan and Logan leans down like one of those bird water rocker things.

But yeah, Oscar is a smug little cat who's very 🤷🏻‍♂️ (shout out to that Alpine "every one is going to know how messy you are, Oscar" video and the "these are my ladies" video) and Logan is a golden retriever (if you've seen that clip of Logan beating Dalton and Benny at arcade games in Japan, or him messing around in the car before COTA, you can imagine him wagging his tail, he's so excited).

#i love ship dynamic explanation posts #like that werewolf!alex one #but yes oscar is the black cat and logan is a golden retriever #he's just a golden retriever that's been in a shelter for a long time so he gets separation anxiety #logan sargeant #oscar piastri #loscar #ls2 #op81 #asks #formula 1 #black cat x golden retriever

[tokillamockingbird427]

Merrick finds it remarkably hard to wrangle or get along with the boys until Elias reveals to him that he can just treat them like you would Riley and not only will they behave... they will thrive.

Simple orders. Make sure to take them outside. Feed them regularly. Give them treats for a job well done. Physical affection such as pats are delightful. They will sleep on you. They will bite you. They even shed.

Merrick is convinced they're werewolves.

#Merrick thinks they're *all* werewolves (the Walkers including Riley) and that Elias is just the best at being lowkey about it #and even then... Merrick has seen the guy take down a steak in like two bites #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #thomas a merrick #elias walker #logan walker #hesh walker #riley walker #riley the dog #Riley reverse werewolf au my beloved #he turns into a human kid around 13~ and Logan+Hesh consider him the baby bro

[delimeful]

how easy you are to need (redux) (4)

warnings: miscommunication/assumptions, unreliable narrator, PTSD, past medical abuse, past torture/abuse in general, non-graphic description of blood and injury, mentions of taking blood/skin/etc. from a person (doesn't happen), might be missing some feel free to let me know

-

By the time they returned to the cabin, Virgil had sunk into a petulant and bitter silence.

He stalwartly refused to respond to Logan’s awkward comments, pointed statements, and outright queries alike. There was nothing they could leverage against him here, not when his own life was the only one on the line, and it was already all but forfeit.

Sure, it might have been in his best interest to cooperate, but that had never convinced him before, and he didn’t intend on breaking his stubborn streak anytime soon.

Instead, he tried to focus on coming up with some sort of ward-breaker method, attempting to drag his thoughts back into some form of coherency. The longer they walked, though, the more difficult it became to pay attention to anything except the warm points of contact where the human was holding him.

The last scraps of lingering adrenaline had long since faded away, but his skin still felt like it was buzzing under the slight pressure of Logan’s grip. The sensation was prickling, and grew more uncomfortable by the moment.

When the front of the cabin came into view, Roman was nowhere in sight, but Patton was waiting, seated on the steps of the porch. The moment he caught sight of their approach, his face split into a relieved smile.

Not the way Virgil would have reacted to the sight of a packmate toting around a hostile monster with seemingly no regard for his own safety, but whatever.

He’d already figured out that whatever rules these humans operated on, they were much different than what he was used to.

Patton pulled something from under his shirt; a small, wooden whistle.

Virgil tensed slightly, hands twitching with a barely-concealed impulse to cover his ears, but managed to refrain. If sound was the worst punishment he’d get for his escape attempt, he was getting off lucky. Better to just endure it.

“A moment, Patton,” Logan called, and when Virgil darted a glance up at him, he found the human was looking right back.

His lips curled back automatically, but Logan didn’t even give him the satisfaction of looking uneasy. He stepped up the porch steps with the same measured steps as always.

“Wait until I’m inside,” Logan told Patton nonsensically, and then, “After, if you could grab the kit from the kitchen, I would appreciate it.”

Patton nodded. “Of course! Are you alright?”

The pause dragged on as Logan didn’t reply, becoming stilted, and Virgil pulled his gaze away from the distant trees at the edge of the clearing to see that those soft brown eyes were locked on him, not Logan.

He scowled to hide his confusion, eyes narrowing into a sharp glare. “What does it matter?”

The human’s face grew impossibly sad, but Logan cut in before he could ask Virgil any more bewildering, meaningless questions, moving towards the cabin’s interior. “Later, Patton.”

Once the door closed behind them, Virgil heard two long, carrying trills, and then three short rapidfire ones. The whistle was much less shrill than he’d expected, enough that he even managed to keep from flinching.

He was carried through the kitchen, where he absently noted that the firewood had been set down in a haphazard pile on the table. Now that he knew about the ward, he kind of wished he’d taken the opportunity to knock all the wood out of Logan’s arms earlier. Petty, yeah, but petty victories were all he was likely to get from now on.

Logan set him down on the couch in the same cozy room from before, as though he’d never left the cabin at all. The moment the human pulled away, that odd burning sensation faded away into an empty chill. Virgil shivered.

The couch was still as soft and restraint-free as it had been when he’d woken up on it, though some of the blankets had been dragged onto the floor during his extremely poor attempt at a hostage situation. He slumped back into it, feeling the slight dizziness of blood loss beginning to set in.

His gaze flickered back up to Logan wearily, but the human didn’t say anything, only watching him with that assessing gaze, seeing far more than Virgil wanted him to.

Uneven footsteps clattered around nearby, and then Patton popped into the room with a white wooden case, setting it down on the table next to Logan and popping it open.

He couldn’t really make out the contents with Patton standing there rifling through them, but the sickening smell of antiseptic was telling enough all on its own.

Virgil tried to shove down his rising panic. He should have expected this. Non-fatal harvesting methods often doubled as effective punishments for the more efficient hunters out there. Logan was the efficient type, so it was probably pure coincidence that he’d chosen this, of all things.

The best thing he could do for himself now was to force himself calm, keep them from learning how badly it rattled him. The more he gave away, the easier it would be to control him. He knew this. He knew this.

Damn, but he was out of practice at pretending.

A few years in the safety of his own company, with only the forest’s soothing presence at his side, and he had softened his defenses. Slowly but surely, he’d let himself believe that he was free of it all, that he wouldn’t ever have to exist like that again. Idiotic.

Fingers wrapping around his wrist jolted him out of his thoughts, and he yanked back sharply, letting out a high-pitched snarl on instinct. The grip vanished, and as the world came back into focus, he saw that it had been Logan, that the human was now holding both hands up, palms facing him, completely empty.

Where was— there. Patton was sitting on the floor next to the table, doing a very poor job of not glancing between them worriedly.

“—don’t want me to touch you, that’s perfectly fine as well,” the human was saying, cadence even and calm. “I can instruct you from here, and you can handle the physical actions yourself, if that’s what you’d prefer?”

Virgil blinked at him blankly for a moment as the words registered, and then nodded slowly. It was a unique sort of torture, to have to do it to himself, but it also meant that he had control over how fast it went, how badly it hurt. He was more than familiar with what could be done to draw harvests out, multiplying the agony of them, and wasn’t keen on renewing that experience anytime soon.

Logan didn’t seem irritated by his choice, meaning that this was a matter of efficiency, that he didn’t care if the punishment wasn’t particularly sadistic as long as it got the message across.

Some of the tension dropped from Virgil’s shoulders despite himself. He shouldn’t feel so relieved about something so small, something that wouldn’t save him, but he couldn’t help it. When faced with the heartbreak of the alternative, the very idea of these humans hurting him just for the sake of hurting him…

He was already going to be hurting physically soon enough, he didn’t need to be hurting emotionally, too.

The easiest and most renewable components to take would be hair and blood, though if they were really insistent on trying to get him into his shift, they might also want teeth or skin– the sort of things that were far more painful after removal, and healed slower while he was human-shaped.

Joke was on them; he knew exactly what was in store for him if he shifted, and he’d take a slow, painful death by exsanguination over that any day.

The first thing Logan handed him was a pair of small medical shears, seeming to prove his assumptions entirely correct, and the only reason Virgil didn’t start getting it over with the moment those metal handles touched his fingertips was because he wasn’t sure yet if it was hair or skin they wanted.

“Cut alongside the bandages on your side, please,” Logan instructed, immediately throwing Virgil for a loop.

That meant… skin, right? He slowly moved the blades of the shears over to where thick white bandages were wrapped around his torso, small blots of bright red visible along his side, where he’d reopened his wounds.

Before he could work out the logistics of using such ill-suited blades on the skin below his bandages, Logan spoke again. “You’ll want to slide the flat of the scissors down beneath the bandages first, and then turn the sharp edge up vertically. That way, the point doesn’t catch on your skin.”

Didn’t that kind of miss the point, pun mostly unintended? Virgil squinted at him, almost opening his mouth to ask, before deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble or potential backlash. Maybe they wanted his whole torso exposed, for a better idea of where to cut the best leather from.

Possibly a smart move, going by how bruised his skin was the more bandages fell away with the slow snip-snip of his shears. The flesh wounds were still covered by the gauze dressing, which was practically glued in place by a mixture of fresh and dried blood.

Curious, Virgil pried the cottony fabric away with one sharp yank, gritting his teeth slightly at the pain of taking a fair bit of scab with it. Simultaneously, Logan and Patton seemed to inhale sharply, and Virgil pretended to be too busy inspecting his wound to look at them.

“I’ll have to be more expedient with the wet cloth next time,” Logan muttered, exasperated and low enough that he probably thought Virgil couldn’t hear. Patton made a low hum of agreement, the kind of noise made through lips pressed tightly together.

“I’m gonna go put something together for replenishment,” he answered softly, using Logan’s knee and then shoulder to help push himself up to a standing position. His crutches were passed over, and he limped from the room with a farewell wave.

Random statements from his captors aside, his wound wasn’t as bad as expected. Heavy bruising and a cracked rib or two were never fun, but in terms of actual mauling? The long gouges curving along his side weren’t great, but they hadn’t pierced any of his organs, and they didn’t seem infected yet.

They were bleeding a fair bit more, though, now that Virgil had effectively torn even more of them open anew. Whoops.

Rather than hand him a collection vial or even just a finer blade, Logan spent the next half-hour walking him through the step-by-step process of wiping the wounds clean, applying some stinging antiseptic paste, and pressing pads of fresh gauze along the still-bleeding bits. Even the bandages were changed out for new, fresh ones. Maybe he wouldn’t get an infection at all.

After that, he was put through an even more bewildering series of questions, mostly about his head, the slight bump from hitting it against the ground, how the more deep set bruises along his torso felt (bad), and how his ribs felt when he inhaled deeply (worse).

A few times, Logan paused to write something down in a little leather-bound book. Virgil had no clue what, since the man hadn’t properly collected a single ingredient from him yet, let alone enough to require keeping written stock.

Finally, he closed the book with a decisive snap and began packing all the tools back into the kit, leaving Virgil sitting there, still all in one piece, the way shifters never were after harvesting sessions.

He didn’t get it. They definitely knew what he was, which meant they also had to know what he was worth.

Some amateur hunters were more ignorant about magical theory and the ingredients it typically entailed, but these three had known enough to locate ley lines and leave satisfactory offerings. Between the sword at Roman’s hip and the books along Logan’s shelves, there was absolutely no way they were unaware of the properties of shifters, of the natural magic that lingered in their flesh and blood and fur.

So they definitely knew. And there was no reason to stall in harvesting from him. It was smarter to start the cycle of removal and regrowth as early as possible, to squeeze the maximum amount of profit out of him before the final harvest.

Except… These humans weren’t a band of nomadic hunters with constant access to bustling markets and customers to barter with, were they? Whatever they harvested would likely be for them, and them alone. There was no point in collecting an excess of mediocre materials when they could simply wait until the full moon, where his innate magic would be at its fullest, and then get everything at once.

The thought made some knot in his stomach loosen slightly. If it was true, if he really wasn’t going to spend the next few weeks enduring a constant, repetitive torture, it would make it a lot easier to try and escape.

And even if he failed, it would only be one night, and then it would be over and done with. He wouldn’t be stuck in the same unending hell as before. That in itself was enough to take some of that unbearable pressure off his shoulders.

Logan was saying something else now, but the last of Virgil’s willpower had burnt out, and any desire to stay awake had fled along with it. Whatever they’d drugged him with was still thick in his system, enough to make his limbs feel dull and slow and his eyelids heavy.

His blinks grew longer and longer, and then he was out again.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #werewolf au #heyatn #heyatnr #how easy you are to need redux #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #my writing #writing