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ask-fantasy-sanders-sides · 4 years

Note

Hey Roman, Logan! Side note: we just found out you guys are Fate Touched. So. That explains quite a bit. Ask her radiance if you wanna know more :) - 🗡

”So I can assume you already know about Virgil's situation?" Logan asks, frowning slightly as he tries to puzzle out what all he should say in this situation. Goddess or not, he's not sure if it's safe to tell her the extent of what he's seen…

Eilistraee nods, "I know about his Sorcery. —Do not worry, Logan. I wouldn't tell the Sisters or their cults unless I had to. If I was planning on handing him over to be executed by the Gods, I would not have helped you save him."

Logan finds himself believing her. But, before he can let the existential dread of what they’re discussing — Which amounts, most probably, to interplanar treason — settle in, he has to comment,

"I don't remember telling you my name."

Eilistraee smiles at that, like she knows something he doesn't. Which, Logan will reluctantly admit, is possible in this specific circumstance.

"Virgil has told me about each of you. —And, of course, you and I are already acquainted." She smiles at Roman, who nods.

"I hope you aren't insulted that I haven't visited in… over a century?"

"We were both busy~" She teases, as if a century is anything to a Goddess.

"I'm not sure what is going on." Logan admits, getting them back on track once he's come to terms with the fact that he is, in fact, doing this.

"By all means, almost everything I've seen him do over these past few days should be impossible. He's wielded Mythal magic, changed the flow of time, and experienced more frequent Wild Surges than any wild magic Sorcerer I have ever heard of. I thought, initially, that he had been born with the power... But, if those spell-scars are any indication, he was not. Still, I've never seen spellscars of that shape or size."

"And they're angrier than before!" Roman cuts in, "I had seen his arm under those bandages a few nights ago, and they didn't look nearly that bad. But we didn't encounter any wild magic between then and now, so I don't know how they could have gotten worse…?"

"Virgil's current power is not something he was born with, that much is true." Eilistraee nods, "He was born with magic latent within him, but he purposefully pushed it down and ignored it. What he can do now stemmed from a disastrous encounter with Nethermancy, in which he was mutated by the Far Realm."

Roman and Logan gasp, and Patton is hopelessly confused. He looks between the three spellcasters in the room, hoping one of them remembers that he is but a regular, mundane person.

"...Ne...cro...mancy?"

"No, Nether. Dark Magic." Roman stage-whispers, looking frightened.

Well, that clarifies nothing at all, Patton frowns, then turns to Logan,

"Lo, you didn't mention that one the other day. I thought you said there were only eight?"

“That is because Nethermancy no longer exists." Logan frowns. Eilistraee sighs and shakes her head,

"As most things you will find tend to be… That is not entirely true. You know your magic comes from the Weave, yes?"

All three of them nod at that, and Patton knows the beginning of a lecture when he hears one. He tries his best to keep listening as Eilistraee continues,

"You can visualize the Weave as a spiderweb. Many threads tangle together to form it, more densely interconnected in some areas and more sparse in others. When you cast a spell, you are plucking on the web. Lesser tricks only jostle one string, while great feats of magic pull on the points where many threads are connected.”

"So, the less strings we pull, the lower the spell's level?" Roman muses. She nods.

“Mystra is the spider who sits at the center, building and repairing the web, feeling the vibrations of all those who touch it and biting away those who pull too hard. After all, if you pull too harshly, the web will unravel… But the web is not the source of magic in the Universe. It is just where you mortals can syphon it from. Magic is something that has always existed, long before the gods, and will continue long after us.”

Logan nods, "The early humanoids who tried to hone magic before the Weave was woven were all destroyed, and turned into the first liches."

"So Mystra, with some help from my Father, created the Weave as a blanket." Eilistraee smiles, "A safety net, that holds raw power back and converts it into something manageable -- something mortals can access."

Logan smirks, “Which is why Elves were the first humanoids to master magic. They had an insider.”

"So like a sieve? For flour?" Patton asks, and the goddess grins at the visual. Logan nods, almost impulsively taking over the lesson,

"Sure. Now, imagine pulling a wire on that sieve out of place. There is a hole for more coarse clumps to fall through, yes?” Patton nods, and Logan smiles at him, “That is what we are doing when we cast spells. When you pull on a thread, a bit of this raw power seeps through, but the gap only releases as much as that thread once covered. The less you ask for, the less you will receive. And if you don’t cast a spell correctly, the thread isn’t pulled at all, and no magic happens.”

...Now Logan frowns, beginning to catch on to Eilistraee’s point.

"But, Nethermancy was not like that.” Logan muses aloud, “It stemmed from the Shadow Weave; the warped copy of the Weave Mystra's sister Shar invented, by mixing magic with corruption from the Far Realm."

"The Shadow Weave is the space in-between the windows in the spiderweb. The darkness between the threads. Hence, it's name." Eilistraee explains, "When you reach into it, there is nothing to decide how much you take out. And, since you have not disturbed the strings, Mystra cannot even sense that you’re there. It is lethal to reach your hand into raw magic like this, in the same way it was lethal to cast before the Weave was constructed."

"Which is why it was never active." Logan adds, cautiously, waiting for her to correct him. "Supposedly, the Blue Flame burned it out during the Spellplague, before it's creator ever used it. Or, so everyone was led to believe…?"

Eilistraee nods, "The Shadow Weave was never destroyed. Shar lost control of it, but it still exists alongside the original. A spiderweb without a spider... And, by now, you are aware that my brother's kin do not follow the same rules when it comes to the lethality of raw magic."

"So, he was exposed to this Shadow Weave somehow, and now he keeps tapping into it on accident?" Roman frowns.

"Yes. Without either Sister Goddess's influence to limit him, Virgil has tethered himself to the spaces between. Now he pulls at it without trying, weakening the weave around him and accessing magic Mystra outlawed decades ago."

Eilistraee turns to Logan, suddenly very serious,

"You've done well to teach him control, but it is still something he will have to learn. He is the only thing moderating his contact with raw magic. He has no safety net to protect him if he takes too much, and no way to stop himself from doing it. This is not your usual pupil whose spell will fizzle out if they fail, his will combust. He must learn to hone his ability."

"I can teach him." Logan nods resolutely, already determined to see this through to the end. Eilistraee frowns.

"There are already many in your world who know about his mutation. Many wish to use him as a weapon on a scale you cannot imagine, and many more wish to destroy him altogether. People who will show no mercy when they come for him, and anyone who would protect him.”

Eilistraee turns to address all three of them, making an imposing figure where she towers in the middle of the room,

“You will face more peril at his side than you have ever read about in your history books, and his powers will bring untold destruction if you fail. Are you so sure you wish to involve yourself in this?"

"You'll find I already have." Logan stares her down, hoping he is more stubborn than she is, "I am not going to give up on him now. I knew it was going to be difficult when I first asked him to join me."

(So, that might be a little white lie. He didn’t know it would be so difficult that a literal Goddess would warn him to pack up and go home, but… Well, no one is going to tear him away from a project he’s already started, nor a friend who needs his help. And, after all, Logan doesn’t know anyone more qualified than himself to teach Virgil how to use magic.)

Eilistraee seems to mull over his words for a moment. Roman and Patton are keeping quiet, either letting Logan speak for them as the group’s leader or too exhausted/shocked to say anything.

...And, after an excruciating several minutes, the Goddess smiles.

"Very well then. I entrust his safety to you, Professor Logan." Eilistraee — the Goddess. What is today?! — smiles, as if as amused by the situation as Logan is winded by it.

"Don't fail him."

"We won't!" Patton cheers, elbowing Logan's thigh to shake him out of his surprised stupor. Eilistraee grins.

"We?"

"Yep! We're a bit of a package deal~" Roman nods, smiling at the other two. "And, I mean... if Logan goes on some sort of super perilous adventure and doesn't invite his resident literal Celestial, I don't even know what I would have to do! The sheer disrespect? I would throw a fit."

"You are both cordially invited to the 'super perilous adventure.'” Logan rolls his eyes, “Not that either of you ever need an invitation to insert yourselves into my travels..."

Logan tries his best not to smile, ignoring their laughter at either side of him.

"You will need more than just the three of you, I'm afraid." Eilistraee smiles,

"I have full confidence in you, but the fact remains that Virgil will also need a mentor who is, themselves, a Sorcerer. There are some skills that can only be taught from experience."

"Where are we supposed to find another Sorcerer?! It's rare enough that we found the one!" Roman whines, making Eilistraee grins.

"You are willing to aid a man you just met last week in a plot against the natural order, but you don’t think you can find one measly sorcerer?”

“Those are two totally different tasks! —Protecting people is my very specific skillset!! Finding them is not my job!” Roman blushes and pouts, and Eilistraee downright laughs. She shakes her head,

“Oh, I was just teasing, d'anthe~ Don't worry: I think he will find you, soon enough."

Eilistrae lays a hand on Roman’s cheek, “And speaking of you... I sense something is troubling you?”

Roman frowns for a moment. He sends an uneasy look at Logan and Patton...then sighs.

(If they’re all getting involved in Virgil’s surprise cosmic destiny, he supposes he might as well let them in on his…)

“It’s my Mother.” Roman sighs,

“I know she’s been ailing for a long while now, but… Something’s happened to her while I was gone, I can feel it. Something’s wrong. But my powers don’t seem to have changed at all, so...I can’t really tell.”

Eilistraee frowns, and Roman hops in again before she can speak, “I-I would contact her, but she still can’t speak to me! I don’t know how I’m supposed to help! I assume Mama has more information once we get to town, but it’s been killing me to wait in the dark. I know there are rules about how much you can meddle, but… Throw me a bone here?”

That gives the Goddess pause. She seems to debate something for a moment… Then nods.

“I can lend my aid to you for tonight, so long as you remain on land under my blessing. But, Sune is still in a very weakened state... Expect one of your Dreams tonight, little Prince.”

Roman smiles softly, trying to mask his spark of disappointment.

“...Thank you. Anything is better than no contact! But… I was never very good at deciphering those things.”

“If you need help deciphering your visions, you can always ask one of my Dark Ladies, or one of your Heartwarders. But, your Mother is a goddess of emotion; It is unlikely any of them will be able to help you more than yourself…”

Eilistraee gives him a sympathetic smile, “...Or, maybe, your usual companion in that place?”

“I doubt that.” Roman smiles back, more amused than he is dejected.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a dream with my brother. I’m starting to think he’s purposefully ignoring them… And, to be honest, I wouldn’t put that past him.”

“That may be so, but you two must reunite soon.” Eilistraee warns him with an unexpected sincerity, “Your Mother needs you both, now more than ever. You are aware that your Fate is joined with these three, but he has a part to play in all of this, too. He always has.”

“My conversations with the whispers always seem to stem back to him, that much is for sure!” Roman grumbles, to himself more than anything. Eilistraee pats his shoulder.

“The guards will lead you back to House De’anonen. The road ahead of you is long and perilous, and I don’t expect to be the last to tell you so… Now, get some rest!”

Roman nods, much too tired to argue on that point. Some young women in silver robes come to lead them out of the temple, and Roman and Patton meander after them out of the room. Logan follows behind them slowly... But, he pauses at the door.

He turns back to Eilistraee, and asks lowly,

“Nethermancy from the Far Realm…” he hums, still not quite sure what he’s trying to remember when he asks,

“That he encountered here? Outside of the Underdark?”

...Eilistrae doesn’t answer right away.

A sour look crosses her face for a moment. She sighs,

“Your curiosity is your greatest strength, Logan. It always has been.” She smiles, turning her back to him to exit the room through the farther door, “But you, of all people, should know that poking at what writhes in the grass is a dangerous game.”

She walks out of the room, her voice echoing behind her as she disappears down a long, shadowy hallway,

“Be sure you are prepared for what’s hiding there.”

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Ask 97 ( @sjrose1217 , @snowydragon10 , @amazonprimebox )

Game Start

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

Available for questions: Logan, Roman, and Patton! (Virgil is asleep)

Eilistraee makes her exit as the party gets ready to sleep for the night, with few hours of night remaining and little energy to keep their eyes open any longer.

Now they have some hints for what is to come, but will they be able to put the pieces together? Or will the dangers she warned them about get the better of them...?

#(translation) d'anthe -- an affectionate term for a child or suboordinate #please tell me if i need to tag anything else!#lets roll #ttrpgau art #ttrpgau Eilistraee #ask rpg sanders sides #asks open #sanders sides rpg au #game lore #Her Luminous Imperial Majesty Empress Shri'Neerune Q'Xorlarrin of Drathireiv'dre #long post #long answer

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imma-potatoo · 3 years

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You called me out on ships, have you tried calling me (and a bunch of other people/fanders) using who they stan and/or kin?

Hmmm..

Okay!

Calling Out Sanders Sides Stans

Roman: hows that inferiority complex going?

Remus: so so so many strange coping mechanisms... Also you probably have either tried or wanted to try deodorant at some point in your life and watching DWIT just make you want to try it more

Patton: you give your all to people who don't even give you the time of day

Virgil: you're the weird™ kid in class weren't you?

Logan: that's one way to say that you were the perfect gifted kid that everyone envied, until you failed that one class and everything spiraled from there

Janus: you're overdramatic to make up for the lost amount of attention in your life, you lie non-stop for a coping mechanism, you have probably wanted to live in a gothic castle at some point, and you push everyone away who has ever cared about you because you're terrified about being hurt again after that one person screwed you over

I also called myself out here, but I'm too tired to process it

----

Call out tag list: @fandoms-are-my-world

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #Janus sanders #PotatoRandoms

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probablyabox · 4 years

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It’s your turn Logince shippers.

Excuse the essay

Logince: The shippers are likely very touchstraved or communication starved. (please, for the love of all things unholy, tend to your Logince shipper. They need it.) There are the all around sweet ones that have cavities from all the fluff they read, and then there’s the mini barnacles who put these two through so so much suffering. Roman is either infatuated with Logan’s eyes, or Logan is essentially drooling over Roman’s voice.

Fic taste: Y’all without a doubt love your AUs.

1. Human AUs, perhaps mixed with a tiny bit of highschool or detective work. Roman is usually a jock in highschool AUs, and Logan’s (most definitely) a quiet nerd. Both with way-too-high expectations for himself. Perhaps with some (a lot of) influence from parental units? I see the projection from a mile away my darlings. In the fic they learn ~together~ that perfection is impossible, or that they don’t have to be perfect and everyone makes mistakes.

2. Detective AUs, probably because of the pining that would ensue between head detective Logan and co-detective or movie star Roman. Oh right, pining. Y’all l i v e for that pining. The denial and build up to when it eventually spills out in either a heated argument or emotional crisis. (For a crisis, Logan locking himself in his room which is actually tearing him apart or Roman trying to duck out due to feeling worthless, for an example or two.) I’m pretty sure you guys breath hurt/comfort. It’s oxygen to you. Tell me, why is one of their heads always hurried in the others chest/crook of the others neck?

3/4. On a more canonical note, movie nights are like music to your ears. Roman cuddling up to Logan’s chest under a blanket? Logan falling asleep on Roman’s shoulder? Yeah, that’s yours. Speaking of music, you all vibe with songfics. At the very least you listen to songs and go “That is literally Logince” in your mind. If you write fics, you’ll typically listen to a song that pertains to the particular Logince scenario you are depicting.

All in all, I give you guys a 6.4 on the feral scale. After hearing from certified Logince shippers TM I’ve learned that you all are bunch of little angst parasites or fluff devotees. I cannot blame you. If you kin any of the sides- let’s be real, it’s Logan or Roman. Extra points if when I called you ‘my darlings’ you just thought Roman (extra extra points if you thought Roman talking to Logan).

#sanders sides #logince #ts logan #ts roman #ahaha I know y’all need hugs and validation asap

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the-sympathetic-villain · 4 years

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You Belong With Me - Chapter 34

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description: Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.

Word Count: 6972

Chapter Warnings contain major spoilers so they’re at the end of the post, but please scroll down to check them if you need to! This chapter gets a bit heavy <3

Logan inhaled slowly as he cast one last glance down the empty corridor behind him. He could feel Dee's impatience growing behind him as he took another step towards the fae's cell. Still, he felt himself pause, subconsciously doubting his choices as he turned to to face the wall outside Dee's cell. A dim, amber light fell from the small sconce burning on the wall to his left. He quickly reached up to the thin torch, wrapping his fingers around the wooden base. With a light shove, he dislodged the lit torch from its holder and turned to step through into the grey light of Dee's cell.

He slowed, holding the torch out in front of him as he ducked through the doorway. He turned his body, edging carefully along the back wall, scanning the cell in front of him to catch sight of Dee's shadowy figure. The hairs on the back of his neck started to raise as continued to search the dim cell for the hostile fae. He barely kept the fear that his enemy had escaped at bay with the knowledge he’d heard the man's voice only a moment before. Logan could feel his energy. He had to be here.

Finally, his heart jumped in his chest he caught the subtle glimmer of his torchlight reflecting in Dee's eyes at the back of the cell. Logan straightened upright with a questioning glance. Dee’s restraints appeared to be pulled taut and Logan could only guess the fae was as far back into the cell as the chains would allow. Logan continued to hold the torch out in front of him, crouching defensively as he quickly glanced up and down at the thin silhouette standing in the dark abyss of the back of the room.

“Well, well,” Dee's dry laugh sent chills down Logan’s neck. “I almost didn’t think you had enough of a spine to ditch the prince's lap dog—”

“Don't.” Logan gritted his teeth as he cut off Dee's attempt to get under his skin. He kept he gaze trained carefully on the billowing figure as he reached upward to place the torch in his hand into the empty sconce across from Dee's cell. The thin torch barely illuminated a small radius in front of him, barely keeping the shadows close to him at bay. “I'm not here to talk about Virgil. Refrain from insulting my friend or I’ll—”

“Or you'll what?” Dee's wry grin stood out starkly against the shadows around him as glared threateningly at Logan. “Leave? If you had a shred of common sense, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Dee scoffed as Logan's expression soured. “Unfortunately for you, you’re the one here who wants something. So, I think you'll find I can speak about your friends anyway I damn please.”

Logan stood against the far wall, rigid with irritation at the truth of Dee’s statement. He clenched his jaw as his eyes shot daggers across the room at the faint silhouette of Dee leaning against the wall at the back of the cell in front of him.

“That’s what I thought. You’re as weak as I expected.” Dee sneered. A slight hiss escaped his lips as he struggled to contain the disdain in his voice. “I may be the prisoner, but you’ll never hold power with me. You’re merely a pawn in the bigger game I'm playing.”

Logan paused, blinking in surprise. His careful, guarded expression faltered briefly as the air wavered with an emotion he didn’t recognize. He parted his lips slightly, subtly tasting the unfamiliar feeling in the air. He stared into the dark blankly for a moment, trying to parse out some meaning to Dee's quickly shifting emotions before bitterly swallowing back the urge to comment and moving on.

“Well, clearly you wanted me here, Dee. The pawn moved where you expected, and now it's your move.” Logan pulled his shoulders back, not allowing his emotions to breach his carefully neutral expression. “So, are you actually able to tell me what happened to my parents or was this merely a ruse to get me alone?”

The silence hanging in air between them would have been deafening if Logan's heart wasn't pounding in his chest as he waited for Dee’s answer. He stared rebelliously into the subtle reflection of light in Dee’s unblinking eyes for what felt like an eternity, willing himself not to show that even without access to his power, Dee’s cold gaze sent a chill down his arms. Eventually, he couldn’t help but take a step back. His arm brushed the surface of the wall behind him and he jumped, almost missing the words that left Dee’s lips in that moment.

“You really don’t know anything. Do you?”

Logan paused, slowly glancing up in the cell as he processed Dee’s words. “What?”

“You don’t have parents.” Dee stated dryly. “You had Tara. “

The light Dee’s eyes flickered as he blinked and Logan tensed as he waited for Dee’s to continue.

“Actually, come to think of it. Tara wouldn’t have been able to resist my invitation either." Dee mused quietly. "It was easy to tempt her with knowledge. I would have pitied the fool who dared stand in her way of what she wanted to know.”

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as the name seemed to resonate with familiarity in his mind. “T-Tara?”

“That was your—” Dee snarled with disgust. “—your mother's name. Her full name was Taranis of the Southern Sky, but she went by Tara.”

“Taranis of the Southern Sky?” Logan spoke slowly tasting unfamiliar words as his mind race. He almost found himself stepping forward in curiosity, but immediately halted, remembering whom he was speaking. With a twitch of a frown, he glared across the line of the cell bars. “Like the planet?”

Dee’s scoffed at Logan’s timid question, and amusement radiated out of the cell. “Yes. Though in the interest of being entirely accurate, the planet was named after her, not the other way around.”

Logan narrowed his eyes into the dark, taken aback by the sudden lack of malice in Dee’s voice. “What do you mean?”

“Humans are nothing but parasites on this land.” Dee drew out his words thoughtfully. “They’re disgustingly cruel, but even I will admit their tendency to connect two completely separate ideas by a mere thread is endlessly amusing.”

Logan stood motionless, listening to Dee as he reflected nostalgically. He held his breath not wanting to draw Dee out of his seemingly peaceful state by reminding him of who he was speaking to.

“The planet you’re referring to glows a brilliantly bright blue, just like Tara's lightning.” Dee mused quietly. “That's all the connection humans needed to connect her power to the celestial body in the southern sky. She even added it to her own name in appreciation of the connection.”

Logan stared into the darkness, nearly paralyzed in disbelief at what could only be sadness in Dee’s voice. “I-I thought—” Logan paused, staring nervously as Dee's eyes turned up to him. “—I ‘ve read extensively about the mythology associated with Taranis. Everything I’ve read implied that it had been named after a god of thunder.”

Dee was silent for long time and Logan couldn’t help but jump when he finally let out a deep sigh. “One of humans’ less endearing tendencies is their absolute inability to recognize the value of all of their own members. Some of them may even be tolerable if their leadership wasn’t worthless.”

Logan was quiet as Dee’s eyes flickered dangerously in the dark.

“She was a goddess in her own right, though thunder was far from her only claim to power. Humans have oh-so-kindly altered her myth to fit their own narrow view because they’re threatened by someone perceived as feminine having power.” Dee muttered bitterly. “Such petty cowards.”

“Was?” Logan struggled to keep his voice steady as he stared into the shadows at Dee. Dee started to move, pacing the back of the cell, but Logan forced himself to continue to speak. “You keep using the past tense to refer to her.”

“Well, I’m shocked.” Dee hummed condescendingly. “Maybe you’re not as much of an idiot as you look.”

Logan subconsciously took a step back into the wall at the venom that dripped from Dee's words, jumping as his back struck the wall behind him. He gulped, feeling the air shift back to the familiar aura of Dee’s hostility.

“You heard me correctly, Logan,” Dee’s eyes flickered in the torchlight as he snarled at Logan. “because that traitorous leech condemned her entire race to suffer and then left her only kin to pay her debt.”

Logan’s heart dropped as Dee stepped forward. His eyes glowed gold as he stared threateningly at Logan as he stuttered out a response. “W-what?”

“I don't have time to repeat myself, so get this through that thick skull of yours. She bolted. Well over a century ago, she took whatever reward the human king offered her, and fled the country, leaving you to the mercy of the human king. It's really no wonder you grew up to be the prince’s loyal pet.” Dee growled. Logan felt chills creep his neck as Dee’s anger turned to a smug satisfaction. “Not all is lost though. Fortunately for the Fair Folk, in her absence, the debt she owes passes to her next of kin and at the very least, she left us that.”

“D-debt?” Logan trembled. Even standing in the heat of the flames of the sconce above him, he felt his blood run cold.

“Surely, your dear prince told you what your mother did,” Dee replied in a disinterested tone. “though clearly he didn’t see fit enough to tell you who you were. I don't imagine you’d be here if he'd simply had the guts to tell you the truth.”

“What are you—” Logan muttered defensive, feeling his hands start to shake.

“Tara’s lightning is unmistakable. There's no way our dear prince didn't know exactly who he was speaking to.” Dee continued unempathetically, barely deigning to look at Logan as he started to crumble.

Blue lightning.

Dee's words trailed off as a loud ringing filled Logan’s ears. He slumped clumsily back into the wall behind him. Roman had reacted to his power and the air had flooded with regret.

He knew.

Roman knew.

Logan swallowed, almost choking on the lump in his throat as he slid down the wall. His muscles strained painfully as he became rigid, forcing down a vocal reaction to Dee's words. He squeezed out a few weak words, desperately needing confirmation of his thoughts.

“She was the Elder Fae.”

“Finally,” Dee growled impatiently. “Maybe there is a brain cell rattling around in that empty head of yours.”

“How—” Logan nearly retched as his stomach twisted and he curled closer to the ground. “That was a century ago. How is that—"

“Stop babbling.” Dee snapped. “Fae live for centuries. We simply age how we choose.”

"But that can't—" Logan choked on his words as he clenched his hands into fists. “I don't remember anything. I grew up normal—”

“Please,” Dee sneered. “I definitely don’t have anything better to do than refresh your memory.”

Logan shivered, barely functioning as he curled his knees to his chest. One thought seemed to keep resurfacing in his mind as grief racked his body.

Roman knew.

“Fine. You worthless—” Dee growled derisively, cutting himself off. His eyes narrowed on Logan as he hissed out his words. “She left you in the hands of her master, the human king. We only assumed she took you with her when she fled the country, but it seems she lost no more love leaving you than the rest of us. You were held by the royal family for two generations before we even realized they still had you."

Logan tilted his head up slowly. Dee’s silhouette stood out slightly against the wisp of moonlight from the narrow window behind him.

“We knew only Tara's magic could end the curse, so once we realized there was a solution to the Fair Folk's suffering, we set out to take you back. Unfortunately, our mission was ill-fated from the start and before we ever reached you, you disappeared. I personally mesmerized and interrogated every knight and guard in the castle. I even got my hands on that foolish king, but you were gone without a trace.” Dee paused, tone dropping as he grew deadly serious. “So, congratulations. You got two more decades of freedom out of disappearing, but it's time to pay up.”

“It's all my fault—” Logan dropped his gaze to the ground bitterly, feeling numb to the tremble in his limbs. “An entire generation gone—for me.”

Dee was silent for a solid minute as he stared at Logan curled against the wall. His gaze drifted up to the torch above Logan, pondering curiously. “I must admit I didn't expect you to take the blame so easily.”

Logan sucked in a breath as his stomach clenched. “They killed her.”

Dee blinked in shock. “What?"

“She died—” Logan dug his nails into his arms at the realization. “She died protecting me.”

“No—That’s not possible.” Dee whispered and Logan looked up, barely catching sight of the fae's eyes before they disappeared into the dark.

“The spell—or curse—” Logan whispered quietly. “Whatever term you prefer to use for the enchantment they forced her to cast.” Logan swallowed, casting his eyes to the ground. “R-Roman said that was the last request the king asked of her and it was too much for her to handle.”

“That’s a lie.” Dee hissed threateningly. “Tara was nothing short of a god. She knew her limit. She would have backed out, if she thought it would kill her. They couldn’t force her hand—”

“They had me.” Logan whispered quietly, running his fingers through his hair. “They took me from her and threatened to—Gods, it's my fault.”

Dee sucked in a sharp breath and was quiet as Logan's breath became rapid. When he finally spoke, his voice strained as he attempted to hold back his seething anger. “I don't mean to rain on your pathetic pity party, but no. If that spell killed her, it was because the king drained her dry of all her energy. I told her—I told her it was too much, and she cut me out. I tried to tell her but I never thought she'd take it that far.”

“She didn’t have a choice. The king left her with no other viable alternatives that would also keep me safe.” Logan felt his stomach unclench slightly at the soft regret in Dee’s voice. He put his hand down, pushing himself up of the ground curiously. “You knew her?”

“I considered her a friend,” Dee scoffed in disbelief. “though she was clearly a wonderful friend, running off to be some human’s lapdog and cutting off contact with the only people that could have helped her."

“The choice clearly wasn’t in her control.” Logan muttered defensively.

“Right, because choosing between her entire race and the allies she'd kept for centuries and you—” Dee sneered condescendingly. “would be a difficult decision.”

Skin prickling with anger, Logan's gaze narrowed into a glare. “Perhaps she made the right choice cutting you out, if this is how you treat your late friend’s only son.”

“You hold your tongue or I'll tear it out.” Dee snapped with a guttural growl as he took a step forward. “You may be her creation, but you’re not her son.”

Logan growled. “You’re the one who called her my mother—”

“I needed your attention, you pesky nitwit.” Dee’s voice dripped venom as he glared at Logan down the dark. “You are not worthy of her name. She was a goddess who was able to pluck the rain from the sky and the dirt from the land and she bind them together to make you. You are no more her son than the wind and the rain.” Dee's teeth almost illuminated in the dark as he bared his teeth at Logan. “You're simply a ragdoll she breathed a wisp of life into. Nothing more.”

“Clearly, she didn’t feel the same.” Logan growled, unable to hide how deeply Dee’s words cut.

“She was a fool.” Dee's sharp disdain cut through the air as his eyes flickered gold in the dark. “Even if she considered you her child, do you even know how many children have disappeared from their parents over the last century? Do you know how many were orphaned because their parents weren’t strong enough to fight off the humans who were hunting the Fair Folk?”

Logan swallowed painfully, breath catching in his throat. “I know—"

“No, you don't.” Dee hissed venomously. “Don’t pretend you have even a shred of understanding of how many lives were sacrificed to spare yours. Fae disappear and are smuggled over the border to be used for whatever power they have left. They drained of their will to live. They—”

“She didn’t know.” Logan whispered quietly, guilt rising in his throat as empathy welled in his chest. “R-Roman said even the king couldn’t have predicted the destruction—"

“What a comfort for the families whose lives were destroyed by their negligence.” Dee spat. His voice gradually raised in volume as emotion crackled in the air around him. “Who could have possibly predicted that humans would take advantage of the weakened fae?”

Logan looked up suddenly as a gasp escaped Dee’s lips. The sound of metal clanging filled the air as Logan tipped his head up to see Dee’s dark silhouette bent over staring at his wrist.

“Dee?”

Dee's eyes shot up to him with a feral growl as Logan suddenly scrambled back to the wall behind him. Dee hissed as Logan rushed to dislodge the torch from the wall and crouched back into the dark as Logan spun back around to rush the metal bars.

“Dee, you’re hurt.” Logan whispered breathlessly. He bit his lip, stomach twisting in empathy as the torchlight revealed streaks of red on Dee’s wrists.

“Keep my name out of your mouth.” Dee snapped. “I don’t want your pity.”

“You need treatment—” Logan muttered, ignoring Dee's hostile remarks. “I'll get Roman—”

“If you bring that prince anywhere near me, I'll tear out his pretty throat with my bare teeth—”

“Virgil, then.” Logan pleaded, suddenly growing frantic as blood dripped from his wrist."

“No.” The wounded fae snarled, baring his teeth at Logan as he paced the bars.

“I can't open the door without assistance—”

“Then, don't.” Dee snapped with a menacing step forward. “I didn’t ask you for help.”

“I don't accept that.” Logan's mind raced as stared at figure of Dee crouched over in the dim light of the back of the cell. His eyes widened as he noticed dark pools at the fae's feet. “I'll be back in a moment.”

“Where do you think you’re going, Logan?” Dee stepped forward, metal clanging as he rushed the bars. "We're not finished here."

Logan bit his lip, feeling a wave of guilt as he took in the full extent of Dee's injuries. A mixture of dried blood mixed with fresh as it streaked down his arms. He softened his expression. “There is a medical kit near the guard's quarters that I was able to raid for supplies for the antidote for Roman's poison. It was well stocked.”

Dee gritted his teeth silently, unable to stop Logan as he turned to place the torch back in it's holder.

“I'll only be a minute.” Logan whispered apologetically, briefly glancing back at Dee's deathly glare he ducked through the archway.

Getting to the medical kit proved to be as little of a challenge as it had been the first time he'd raided their stash of supplies for ingredients. Fortunately, they seemed to have restocked from his last encounter and even added to their extensive supply. His face twisted in disgust. Realistically, he knew he should be grateful he hadn’t needed to go far for supplies, but the sight of the growing collection sent bile rising in his throat.

Logan knew all too well the supplies were kept stock for when Remus pushed too far on his victims. There's no mistake that this was here to keep the prisoners comfortable. There had been many instances where he'd been left to bleed in the dirt without concern for him to believe that, but the few times he'd been truly afraid he may not survive the night, Remus had allowed one of the guards to haphazardly treat his wounds. The unforgettable experience of his wounds being treated so roughly sent shudders down his body, but he'd survived, perhaps thanks to the clumsy treatment he'd been granted. Still—He clenched his jaw, refocusing his energy away from the uncomfortable memory.

Subtle, colors filled the air as he quietly dug through the various pouches of herbs and oils, trying to guess what he might actually need. He’d only gotten a cursory glance at Dee’s injuries and hadn’t dared ask the already seething fae for a closer inspection.

What am I doing?

I mean, he knew he couldn’t just leave Dee to bleed out. He didn't have that cruelty in his heart, but nothing was stopping him from grabbing Roman or Virgil at this point. He'd walked away unscathed, and he knew they'd certainly help him if he asked, but he couldn't bring himself to break the small amount of trust Dee had placed in him letting him walk away.

Not that he'd had a lot of options.

Logan clenched his jaw and quickly hooked the waterskin he'd swiped from the guard's supplies on to his belt loop and shoved the rest of the bandages and a collection of salves and oils into his bag. He groaned and pushed himself back up toward the door, quickening his pace. Subtly, he gave a brief pause at the door, listening quietly at the door. He paused before pushing himself through the crack and making his way back to Dee's cell. Logan edged along the shadows near the walls as he deftly avoided the unobservant guards patrolling hallway of cells. His anxiety started build, creeping across his skin as he approached the figurative lion's den once more.

Logan slowed as he tiptoed into the hallway with Dee’s cell. He could see a subtle cloud of colors drifting out of his bag carried by the wind back the way he'd came. He could taste the herbs on the air as he stopped quietly in the hall outside the door, listening intently.

He heard a subtle whisper as he crept across the threshold toward Dee. Listening intently, he peered around the corner as the whispers stopped. Logan looked into the dark corners of the cell as he turned the corner, immediately spotting Dee’s eyes glowing their usual bright gold.

Logan stared curiously at Dee, who seemed to be too distracted to notice Logan re-entering the room. He carefully traced Dee's line of sight to the far corner of the room as he let out a distinct hiss while he appeared to stare at nothing. Logan froze in place, miscalculating a step as Dee's cold stare turned to him.

“Oh, good.” Dee snipped. The glow of his eyes flickered with exhaustion as he watched Logan slowly unfreeze and move quietly to the cell door. “My daring hero has returned from his harrowing journey that was absolutely not pointless—”

“Shut up.” Logan muttered in an exhausted tone as he grabbed the torch out of it's holder and turned to scan the walls of the cell. “You need treatment.”

“You can't get to me.” Dee spat coldly. "Therefore, this venture was pointless."

“I can, actually.” Logan stated dryly.

Dee paused, staring at him suspiciously. “How?”

“You'll see soon enough.” Logan’s chest tightened nervously as he turned to face the wall behind him. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the lockpicking set Virgil had given him. He hesitated, fidgeting with the tools in his hand as he cautiously kept the picks out of Dee’s sight. Picking the lock to the cell door would certainly easy enough. Virgil had implied that the locks in the dungeons were of amateur design, but doing so was as good as showing his hand to a man who seemed determined to prove himself Logan’s enemy, and Logan certainly couldn't see how that was a wise course of action.

Logan sighed, defeated. He couldn’t knowingly walk away while Dee was in his current condition, not even to fetch Roman. So, he steeled his stare and turned to move to the cell door fiddling with his picks.

“What are you doing?” Dee hissed the demand, staring at him..

“I think it is very apparent what I attempting to do.” Logan growled back. “Unfortunately, if you have questions, they will have to wait as I need to focus.”

Dee seemed to bite back a sour retort as Logan slid the first pick into the narrow lock. He glared silently at Logan, but allowed him to work in peace as he got a feel for the pins. Logan glanced up at Dee’s unblinking stare as he manipulated the last pin into place. He knew he could simply pop the lock open, but he let the pin fall out of place, but Dee’s injuries didn't appear to be an immediate threat to his life. To be perfectly fair, if he was being forced to show his hand on his new skill, he still didn't have to reveal to Dee that he was good at it. A few minutes passed as Logan played up his lack of skill, smiling subtly as Dee grew frustrated.

“Why don’t you give up? You obviously don’t—"

A single pop from the metal of the cell door stopped Dee’s statement in it's tracks. Logan couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across his face as Dee watched him slowly push open the cell door.

“Stay away from me.”

“I think we've established that's not going to happen.” Logan chided softly as he stepped forward. He kneeled down in front of the fae and held out his hand to Dee expectantly. “Give me your wrist.”

The scales on his face glowed a dull yellow as Dee hissed threateningly at Logan as he kneeled beside him, but much to his surprise Logan simply hissed back at him. Anger burned in Dee's eyes at the response. “Don’t treat me like a feral animal.”

“Don’t act like a feral animal.” Logan grunted as he gestured sternly for Dee to extend his wrist. He felt a small surge of empathy as he met Dee’s gaze. His scales dull glimmer gave away the exhaustion he was so clearly trying to hide.

Dee's heated glare would have withered his willpower away in any other circumstances, but right now, he had a job to do. His focus narrowed as Dee reluctantly held out his wrist. The wounds were not immediately apparent under the layers of dried blood, so Logan reached into his bag, pulling out a cloth to wet with his waterskin.

“Tell me if this hurts.” Logan muttered, not looking up. "I can be more gentle, if I need to."

“Like you’d care.” Dee hissed back, flinching at the feeling of the cold water as the cloth brushed his skin.

“I do care.”

Dee paused, staring at Logan uncertainly. “Why?”

“I simply don’t glean pleasure from seeing others in pain,” Logan whispered as he gently began to work away the layers of blood.

Dee scoffed quietly. “Well, I certainly have not extended you the same courtesy, so surely some part of you enjoys the reversal of power.”

“I want to help you, Dee. Any power you claim I have over you exists purely in your own perspective.” Logan stated without glancing up. He examined Dee’s wrist closely, knowing he couldn’t proceed with the cuff around Dee’s forearm in the way. He tilted his head up to Dee’s golden eyes. “I’m going to take your bind off, but I expect for it to go back after I've finished.”

“Starting to give commands already,” Dee muttered. “How noble our sweet ragdoll is.”

“I don't enjoy seeing you bound either, but I'm no fool.” Logan pulled out his tools and started to slide the pick into the lock, allowing his focus to drift from Dee’s intense stare. “You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear and I'm not interested in being a willing target of your rage.”

Dee was quiet as the first cuff popped open and Logan froze as it revealed several deep gashes underneath the cuff. Large, red welts raised on his arm around the cuff, an indicator of the powerful fae’s reaction to the metal. The welts and irritation were to be expected but Logan couldn’t deny the cuts looked more purposeful.

“The guards haven’t noticed your injuries?” Logan whispered, gently rolling Dee’s wrist to get a better look.

“You know firsthand they simply don’t care, especially since I’m not human to begin with.” Dee growled avoiding his gaze.

“But they should have reported it so that Roman could have done some—”

“Your idiot prince has no idea about my injuries. I can assure you of that.” Dee replied bitterly.

Logan swallowed, not wanting to admit the relief that washed over him at the thought that Roman had not been the one to be negligent of the fae's injuries. He bit his lip as he dropped his gaze. “Still, surely the guard would’ve approached Remus, given your relationship.”

“Bold of you to assume that Remus was not the source of my injuries.” Dee whispered tiredly.

Logan paused, looking up at him in horror. “I thought—"

“You thought wrong.” Dee cut him off, and Logan looked up to see him staring distantly over Logan’s shoulder. “I told you there was no affection between us.”

“Still,” Logan whispered. “I didn’t imagine he would hurt you.”

“It's my own fault really. I should have predicted he would become destructive if left to his own devices. He can't resist the temptation of hurting someone powerful when they're helpless in front of him.” Dee whispered quietly, still staring absently over Logan’s shoulder. “I’ve been his keeper long enough to know it's the way he was created.”

“His keeper?” Logan asked, his voice carefully neutral as he listened curiously.

Dee seemed to tense with the realization of what he'd said, but Logan remained patient. He kept working at Dee's injuries gently applying the soothing salve to his irritated injuries. The methodic movements seemed to lull Dee into speaking the words he seemed to desperately want to say.

“You may be the key to undoing the curse that Tara placed on us, but that doesn’t mean that the Seelie and Unseelie courts simply rolled over and gave up when you disappeared.” Dee started tiredly. His voice hung heavy in his throat as he watched Logan begin to wrap his arm. “There was a plot. When Roman and Remus were born, the courts were reeling with grief from the loss of our chance at redemption. You were gone, and with your disappearance, the courts lost all hope of lifting the enchantment. It was a dark time for our people, and in their grief, for the first time in nearly three centuries, they made the choice to create a changeling."

Logan paused as pinned off the end of Dee's bandages and moved to the next arm. He hung his head as he listened, pulling his lockpicks out of his pocket as he started on the second cuff

“They wanted to fell the humans from the inside out, create a kink in their rule that would destabilize their monarchy and maybe give us a chance to survive their systematic destruction. Unfortunately, as had been the case so many times, the universe seemed determined to foil our attempt at salvation.” Dee watched absently as the second cuff fell off his wrist, barely reacting as Logan set to work on clearing the blood off of the deep cuts. “Despite popular belief, changelings can't be created on a whim. They take seven years to grow and nurture for the right traits before they can be switched. Continuing our stellar streak of luck, on the night of their birth, a lock of hair was taken from the kings' son and the process of creation had begun. No one realized until later that twins had been born and we had created a changeling of the wrong child.”

Logan gently lifted his head as he worked the blood on Dee’s wrist, glad to see a slight glimmer to Dee's scales. “Why not simply correct the mistake and start over?”

“The lock of hair must been taken before the moon sets on the night of their birth.” Dee voice hung heavy in the air as he leaned against the wall. “We didn’t learn about the twins until weeks later. So, we had a choice. Work with what we had created or wait another generation to try again.”

“So, why you?” Logan asked quietly as he returned his gaze to the salve he was spreading on Dee's wrists. "How did Remus end up in your hands?"

“I have acted as the Seelie court’s ambassador to Unseelie court for well over a century.” Dee whispered sadly. “Actually, Tara had acted the Unseelie ambassador until she disappeared.”

“She was a dark fae?” Logan whispered.

“Dark and light have different meaning to the Fair Folk.” Dee growled in discontent. “Neither is good nor evil. They simply exist to balance the other.”

Logan looked up at the serious expression on Dee's face and nodded slowly, still processing the new information. He reached to his bag, pulling out a new strip of bandages.

“Remus was created to spread misery. He was meant to fell a kingdom, but we knew he'd need guidance. Tara’s replacement had led the mission to collect you, so the representative of the Seelie court became responsible for Remus.” Dee sighed. “I became responsible for him. Still, nothing we seemed to do was enough, and once Roman acquired his pet—” Dee stalled as Logan glared at him. “Once he acquired Virgil, he was untouchable. He overrode every bad decision Remus threw at him. We thought the game was over when Remus' bored attempt to murder the prince somehow turned up you.”

Logan pinned the end of the bandage in place and glared up at Dee defensively.

“Your eyes glowed while he was having his fun with you in the dungeons. That's how he knew. Honestly, you probably could have fried the little bastard if it weren’t for the shackles so conveniently placed on your wrists.” Dee snipped as he pulled his wrist back from Logan. "Fortunately, you weren't so lucky."

“You seem as determined as ever to hate me.” Logan whispered quietly, shoving his supplies into his bag. He glanced down at the shackles on the ground, but made no attempt to force Dee to replace them.

“I can't afford to believe that any piece of her lives in you. If I did, I may not have the willpower to finish what I started.” Dee replied coldly. “You have a debt to pay and if you won’t own up to it—”

“I will.”

“What?”

“Whatever it takes, no more lives will be sacrificed in my name.” Logan whispered, looking up at Dee’s subtly shimmering scales. “Show me what I need to do.”

Dee scanned his face, taken aback by Logan’s words. He watched curiously before testing Logan’s truthfulness. “Fine. Let me go.”

“I can't. Not yet. ” Logan added as Dee's eyes stare distrustfully up at him. He brushed himself off, glancing out the cell door. “I’m going to fetch Roman.”

“What?” Dee hissed, his mouth hanging agape.

“I'll do whatever it takes to end this, Dee. I give you my word.” Logan promised, holding his wrist tightly. “My life is in your hands, but I want Roman there. Whatever happens to me, I want him there.”

“I can’t let you do that, Logan.” Dee warned with a growl. "Don't walk out that door."

Logan took a step backwards towards the exit, holding up his hands in reassurance. “I promise I’ll return. My word is goo—”

A grunt escaped Logan lips as a body slammed into him from behind. Instinctively, he moved to slip out of his attacker’s grip but their grip was iron tight. He struggled for a moment, blue sparks erupting from his arms until he was forced onto his chest with a painful thump. He gasped a metal shackles latched around his wrists and his lightning vanished. He gasped, feeling his power dissipate as a familiar giggle sounded behind him.

“Oh, pretty boy.” Remus chirped happily in Logan’s ear. “For a second there, I thought Dee wasn’t going to let me out to play. He gets awful sappy when he talks about his dead friend—”

“Get off him and give me the key, Remus.” Dee ordered, not looking up at Logan as he shamefully hung his head.

“Dee, please.” Logan begged as Remus pulled him to his knees. He watched helplessly Remus tossed a brass key at Dee’s feet. “I said I’d do whatever you asked.”

“Gag him.”

“No—” Logan started to squirm, but Remus was prepared. He held him easily as he slipped a piece of cloth between Logan’s teeth.

“You had to have known I'd prepared for your visit, didn't you?” Dee drawled lazily as the binds around his neck and legs fell free. Immediately, he took a deep breath as the light from his eyes glowed brighter and a bright shimmer passed down the scales on his face and hands. “Nothing I've done has been left to chance. I kidnapped your prince and forced your hand on learning to use your power on your friends. I offered you the temptation of knowledge and tricked you into prying a confession out of that oaf of a prince. This was all planned for you to end up here understanding exactly why this is your burden to bear.”

Logan glared at him, shivering as Remus’ hands grasped his shoulders. Dee stepped toward him, raising a finger to trace the scar on his face. He nearly collapsed to the ground at the reminder of the last time he’d spent helpless with Remus.

“Our dear Remus has the unique ability to become undetectable when he needs to and fortunately you stepped right into my trap as predicted.” Dee smirked as his finger slid down Logan’s face. “The only thing I didn’t predict was your willingness to sacrifice yourself to make things right. Truly, that was a noble offer and one that won't go unnoted." Dee grinned as Logan's head shot down to the ground. "Maybe there truly is a glimmer of Tara behind those bright eyes.” Dee whispered as Logan hung his head to his chest as tears blurred his vision. “I don't want you to think this is personal, Logan. I’d be much happier walking you into this willingly, but I can’t take a chance that your prince wouldn’t be so honorable, so I'm sorry." Dee smiled sympathetically as Logan struggle in Remus' grip. "Truly I am, but too many people are relying on me to finish this for me to take chances.”

Logan slumped back, defeated in Remus’ grip. Dee's gaze only lingered on him for a moment before he tore his gaze away and looked up to Remus.

“Get him out of the castle. I will meet you at our rendezvous point,” Dee order sternly. “and Remus?”

Logan shivered as Remus’ hand brushed his neck. He resisted the urge to retch as Remus grip on tightened on his shoulder, but the feeling only lasted a moment as Remus' hand was immediately yanked away from him. He flinched, expecting a blow to the side of his head, but when none came, he timidly looked up to see Dee holding Remus’ hand away from him. Both the men's eyes glowed brightly in the dim light as they stared at each other. Logan froze watching as power radiated through the air between them. An uncomfortable minute passed before Remus’ glowing green eyes flickered and returned to their normal color. Dee continued to stare at the changeling, voice dripping with power as he continued.

“Not one hand on him that’s not absolutely necessary.” Dee hissed threateningly as Remus bowed his head submissively. “If even one hair on his head is out of place when I retrieve him from you, I will make you regret existing. Do you understand?”

“If control’s what you’re into, I’m not objecting," Remus quipped with a chuckle. "but I really think we should talk about these thing beforehand—”

“Answer me, Remus." Dee growled impatiently.

Remus glared at him petulantly, but eventually he turned his head down with a snarl. “Fine. Pretty boy stays in good condition until you come to fetch your toy.”

“Good, then go. I'll meet you as we planned,” Dee ordered sternly, shamefully avoiding the horrified look in Logan’s eyes as he pulled his sleeves over the bandages on his arms.

“Alrighty then, pest.” Remus’ high pitched chuckle sent shivers up his spine. “Time for a nap."

Logan’s cry was muffled to a whimper as Remus pressed a cloth against his nose and mouth. He struggled in Remus' grip. The corners of his vision darkened as his movements weakened. He fought to remain conscious, but the battle was already lost. Regret flooded over him as his muscles stopped reacting and he drifted restlessly into an uncomfortable sleep.

---

Chapter Warnings: Restraints, Anger, Angst, Death Mentions, Lashing Out, Mentions of Kidnapping, Medical Treatment, Injuries, Blood, Guilt, Very brief unintentional self-harm, mentions of genocide, Drugging, Actual Kidnapping, Unsympathetic/Questionable Janus/Deciet

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

You Belong With Me Taglist:

@cas-is-a-hunter @insert-cool-blogname @ironwoman359 @i-know-im-smart @imbadatnames8d @croftersphoenix @optimistic-violinist @chronicallynervouschild @croftersjam15 @actitus-hypoleucos @unbefuckinglieveable @justthatamount @eeveeeclair246 @taxicabinmemphis @theoddkidnextdoor @dwbh888

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts logan #ts janus #unsympathetic deceit #unsympathetic janus #You Belong With Me #villain writes

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kendallstewy · 3 years

Text

The dog pound

The “dog pound” conversations in the club at Tom’s bachelor party are some of the most chilling in the show and I believe they impact to some degree Kendall’s subsequent decision to ally with Stewy and Sandy. In the club, Kendall has been trapped in his own pound in some ways. Logan has ordered Greg to essentially babysit him, Angela has rejected Kendall’s involvement with her art by connecting his last name to something evil (“It’s the name…it’d be like I was marrying Hitler”), and Stewy has offered Kendall the opportunity to be “all the way out” by using both condescending language (“I’m feeling fucking generous”) and then, even when tempered with a soft “please,” issuing an order (“Ken, take the money and get out, please”). Despite finding the offer “not uninteresting,” going “all the way out” would put Kendall on the literal and figurative outside of Waystar to some degree, further tightening the hold other people have over him. Kendall doesn’t seem to perceive this at the time, instead literally following Stewy in order to further the negotiations with Sandy.

Which, of course, is when Roman chimes in. He attempts to assert himself to Sandy, is laughed at and belittled by Kendall, and then the dog pound issue abruptly becomes a very disturbing topic. Manipulation by shame is a prominent motivator: Roman causes Sandy to make an awkward exit as he rattles off details about how Kendall physically caged him as a child. Kendall may not realize it, but he shames Roman in turn by insisting that not all of the details are true and that Roman actually enjoyed being in the cage, that Roman found pleasure in what Roman deems a degradation. When Roman brings the issue to Connor, Connor’s attitude is blasé and matter-of-fact: yes, Roman enjoyed being in the cage, but the dog food was possibly chocolate cake. Connor unknowingly backs up Kendall but then muddles the issue further when he claims that Roman asked Logan to be sent to military school after Roman says that he asked to be sent away as a result of the cage trauma. Both the affirmative (all parties agree that Roman was caged by Kendall) and the uncertain (what exactly happened to Roman in the cage and the fallout) form a thorny path for the viewer to navigate, with the only clear route revealing the truth of how the Roys communicate: by lashing out when accused of causing a scary situation (Kendall), speaking matter-of-factly and objectively about a scary situation caused by a family member (Connor), and the desperation to find someone to back themselves up in that a scary situation both occurred and was scarring (Roman). It all forms a potent cocktail of deep unease. Yes, we knew this family was troubled to put it extremely mildly, but I maintain this is an underrated example of just how deeply they use shame as a weapon – sometimes without probably intending to, which is really quite frightening.

It doesn’t seem to be a coincidence that the last conversation Kendall has before going to Sandy and negotiating the takeover is with Connor and regards the dog pound. Connor says he loves Kendall; Kendall returns the sentiment. Then the conversation almost immediately turns to Roman asking Connor about the dog pound. Kendall asks if Roman enjoyed it; Connor says yes, but that Kendall did too. So much for sibling love in Kendall’s eyes. Connor’s subsequent statement that Logan’s practice was to “punish” the weak dog in the fight by sending him away underscores to the viewer how Kendall has been persuaded into submission all night (even if Greg failed in preventing Kendall from taking drugs). Kendall saying things to Sandy like, “We’ll go fuck my dad together,” “Fuck the rest of my family,” “Fuck local TV, newspapers, parks,” and “Fuck Stewy” feel like him letting off some serious steam accrued during the pressure of the evening. (It might be coincidental, but Kendall also says, “Stewy will follow the money like a dog in a cartoon” – the image of dogs has perhaps taken up part of his psyche.) Kendall’s insistence that he knows the “emotional corporate architecture” of Waystar highlights the metaphorically bloody business he knows he’s undertaking. In a show heavily about blood-related family, Kendall’s ammunition will hurt in a way that affects birth-established ties. It’s the way he decides to break free of his pound and to make sure any talk of him caging any of his family isn’t an insult this time – it’s an act of victory. He’ll have shown his fangs, and the bite will be a glory to him.

Well, we know how that turns out, but the fangs bared at the club is a fundamentally terrifying instance of the show using an animal-related story as the jumping point for the exploration of how human beings are willing to claw at their own kin.

#succession #hbo succession #kendall roy #roman roy #connor roy #stewy hosseini #sandy furness

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a-little-moss-for-the-soul · 3 years

Text

i should probably elaborate on my bio huh? eh, i’ll just do it here.

name:

Bowie/Scotty

Pronouns:

he/him

Pansexual, xenogender (stargender-my gender reminds me of the planets and wonder) and aceflux.

fandoms:

undertale aus, sanders sides, good omens, helluva boss, hazbin hotel, Panty and Stocking With Garterbelt, invader zim, the glass scientists, probably more but i’m not doing them all rn

kin list:

patton(sanders sides)

roman(sanders sides)

logan(sanders sides)

dib(invader zim)

gir(invader zim)

stocking(paswg)

hyde(the glass scientists(a jekyll and hyde thing))

steven(SU)

wendy(gravity falls)

dipper(gravity falls)

marco(svtfoe)

star(svtfoe)

Remy/Sleep(thomas sanders’s vines)

dr picani(Cartoon Therapy(yet another thomas sanders thing))

luminity(the owl house)

blueberry(au sanses)

moxxie(helluva boss)

blitzø (helluva boss)

husk (hazbin hotel)

Minor

In relationship

Aesthetic:

goblincore but in a non-antisemantic way (gremlincore? idk man i just know i don’t hate people of the jewish religion but i also like the aesthetic ;-;)

that’s rlly it ; -;

byeeeee

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captainpufferfish · 4 years

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fear will be your enemy

A/N: this is pretty short, but I wanted to write something for the new ep before I post all of my pre-fwsa fics. (which will hopefully happen sometime between sunday and wednesday) hope you enjoy a little virgil minific as compensation for all the times i have Channeled Rage (which i think he still kinda deserves, don’t come for me virgil stans, but i’m biased because no thoughts only kinning logan) towards him/ made him very morally grey in coming fics. also i wrote this in like an hour so don’t yell at me for spelling/the fact that this fic progresses way too fast

Summary:

For once, Virgil tried to do the outgoing thing. The stupid thing, the run in blind and hope for the best thing. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t end up regretting it.

tws and : purp man being angsty and existential, far too many Frozen references for my own sanity, Virgil makes an All Time Low ref, pretty cliche and cheesy at the end but fuck it, janus and remus angst if you squint. dm or comment if there’s one you need added!

Ah yes, Virgil just loved remembering random quotes said by 21 year old women with ice powers and trust issues at the most inopportune moments.

Fear will be your enemy.

He knew that Roman wanted this. Knew that it would crush him if he had yet another loss, knew that Princey was already at an All Time Low and probably did need Therapy. (No he would not stop with the emo references.)

But it was hard. Fear was something he knew. Fear was easier to comprehend. You just ran or fought or froze or fawned. Four simple categories. But other feelings were different.

He was no stranger to Thomas falling in love with a man he just met. He got it, you know? Love was an open door and all that jazz.

Great.

And this guy should have been the same.

He should have just been able to panic over talking to him until Thomas inevitably went home in disappointment and watched five hours of the office like usual.

But it wasn’t the same. And as he saw Roman’s face in the corner of his eye, crumbling and near tears as whatshisname walked away, he thought he understood why.

And for the first time, he turned so he was standing face to face with fear, with all the horrors and insecurities and irrational phobias that kept him and Thomas up at night.

And he pushed.

He pushed for himself, for all the sleepless nights filled with worrying, all the needless anxiety over monsters in the dark or ghosts in the closet.

He pushed for Logan, for all the days spent stressing over ensuring that Thomas listened to him, all the pain he knew the logical side was hiding under a cold, logical mask.

He pushed for Patton, for all the time he had spent hiding in his room, the tired eyes that he hid behind his glasses.

He pushed for Thomas, for how much he had coped with everything that had happened lately, all the work he had been putting in to help each side with their issues and come to a better understanding of one another.

He pushed for Janus and Remus, all the times the two of them had been shoved to the side just because of their alignment, for everything they had to go through and him leaving and his slow acceptance.

He pushed for Roman, for all the pain the Prince was still harboring from the whole wedding thing, for all the time he spent trying to perfect himself.

And as they all sat screaming in Thomas’s apartment over Nico and the fact that Thomas had literally fallen into a bin but still had a chance with this guy, he smiled to himself. Maybe, for the first time in forever, he had something- someone- to push for.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fics #jaz writes #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #this is my contribution to the swarm of virgil fics appearing #prinxiety #if you squint #lets play count how many frozen refs i made #i cant get over the falling in the bin thing #bcz thats some dumb shit i would do #actually i may have fallen into a bin once #but thats a story for another time

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nonchalantsanders · 4 years

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The Sides and Anime They Watch, Because I’m a Weeb and I Can:

I tagged all the anime mentioned in order. Please feel free to add-on your thoughts!

Starting off with Virgil because the thought that sparked this idea was me contemplating if Virgil watched Death Note. Canonically? Maybe, but I’d rather like to think that he watched the first two episodes because he thought it matched his aesthetic, but he soon realized just how much killing was really involved and then dropped it because that’s the last thing he needs to think about. Death Note is a little too realistic for him to be comfortable with. He enjoys watching high production fantasy that has a darker vibe, but it always ends well for the heroes. His favorite anime is Soul Eater, and I will die on that hill. Honorable mentions: Fire Force (same creator) and Demon Slayer.

Whenever Virgil is in a particularly bad mood, Patton will do his best to coax him into watching iyashikei (healing) anime. Virgil’s favorite show to watch with Patton is My Roommate is Cat, but he would rather watch the next episode of Death Note than to tell Patton that. This works both ways: whenever Patton is really low Virgil will SUBTLY tell Patton that they should watch the next episode of How to Keep a Mummy or K-ON.

Patton will watch really anything. He enjoys iyashikei, he loves watching good ol’ shounen protagonists winning, romance anime makes him soft, and he ADORES a good, simple comedy. He can just hop in to what anyone else is watching a have a good time. He has many favorite anime including but not limited to Kakushigoto, Little Witch Academia, Fairy Tail, Sailor Moon, Princess Jellyfish, and Saiki K. Yes, he has found a reason to cry to every single title he’s seen.

This turned out to be way longer than I thought it would. Roman, Logan, Janus, and Remus under the cut!

Patton and Roman have the most similar tastes and motivations in anime. If they’re watching a show together it’s a show that is either hype af, or gay af. They watch a lot of big name shows together like My Hero Academia and Yuri on Ice.

On his own, Roman watches a lot (and I mean ALOT) of shoujo and romance. He is literally in love with Prince Izana from Snow White with the Red Hair, and there’s nothing you could say to me that would change my mind. He also loves lowkey projecting onto Aoi Tsubaki from Kakuriyo because of how many kind and pretty boys there are. He is sad, and lonely, and these shows fill a bit of that void. His favorite anime is Given. Period. Roman is such a Haruki kinnie. Tell me I’m wrong. You can’t.

Logan watches the least anime out of the sides... or so they all think. The truth is that Patton showed him Dr. Stone one day because “it’s super sciencey” but Logan didn’t give it a fair chance because he was stuck on the fact that is literally impossible for a beam of light to turn the outer layer of only HUMAN organic material into stone, and then have the humans still be alive hundreds of years later. Weeks after watching the first three episodes, he started really thinking about some of the technicalities and continued to watch episode 4. He took notes the entire time and had finished season 1 in a day. He then wrote a 30+ page analysis in his free time discussing why the things that Senku made should or should not have worked... as a passion project.

He then went on to do similar things with shows like Cells at Work and even Hetalia believe it or not. He even used the metaphorical ways that the countries in Hetalia interact as a way to compare the way he interacts with the others. He also really connects with Aggretsuko on a personal level.

Janus is actually the one who watches the least anime, but nobody believes him when he says that. He’s seen a few episodes of some big titles here and there, but nothing hits different like Talentless Nana. It’s a new show this season so I won’t say much, other than the fact that it is, without a doubt, Janus’s favorite thing. Every new episode is a game of seeing if he can figure out Nana’s plan before she reveals it. He loves outwitting the people who are doing the outwitting. He kins Nana. That’s just a fact. I’m sorry.

Remus? Short answer: ℌệ𝔫𝔱ằ𝔦 (lol). Long answer: Sarazanmai, Blood Blockade Battlefront and Akudama Drive (he thinks he kins Cutthroat, but he’s really more of a Hoodlum). He watched Sarazanmai for the butt humor, but stayed for the emotional, in-depth character arcs and healthy MLM representation. The problem is nobody else can trust a show that Remus recommends especially when the butt stuff is so heavy in the first few episodes, so he has nobody to talk about it with. He is left with the suffering of not being able to express his love for the show. This is the only thing about Remus that I will ever be able to relate to.

Because Patton wanted Remus to feel appreciated, they watched all 12 episodes of Sarazanmai together over the span of the 3 days. It was a bumpy ride, but Patton ended up adoring it in the end and cried.

Please add more! What other shows do some of the sides watch together? Do you think one of the sides wouldn’t like one of the show I listed? Did I miss a show that they would like?

I post and reblog anime and manga stuff on my main @nonchalantatall if you want to discuss any of the shows I mentioned! :)

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hottestthingalive · 4 years

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Let's see how you turn this fake tittle into analogical: “And this is why you don't try to run away from home on the middle of Halloween”

i lost my first draft of this. have my second one. if i have to make a third though i might lose my mind

But it helps that I was told to write analogical, and therefore will feel no guilt when I do this time >:D

-Virgil grows up surrounded by warnings.

-Never sing in the darkness, his parents and teachers and friends and family say, whispers and reminders that guide their lives. Tell the bees of the events of the day. Wear black after the first leaves fall. Do not make deals with a stranger if you cannot see their eyes.

-And on All Hallow’s Eve (or Samhain, or Halloween, or simply October 31st, depending on who is speaking) always be inside when midnight strikes.

-Except.

-Except Virgil stopped listening to his parents a long time ago, if only because thinking of himself as worthless and useless and a burden and a failure got to be exhausting. And his teachers, as he gets older, seem to say a lot of things that are wrong. He doesn’t have many friends anymore, and the rest of his family... Well, he never got along with them, anyways.

-He still obeys most of the rules, if only for convenience’s sake. If he wears black in the fall and winter like everyone else, if he is seen whispering to bees as he tends to the garden, if he is careful and cautious and anxious all the time, no one suspects anything, for that is the way they all are. And thus he is not suspicious, and no one seems to notice that he hoards money in a box under his bed, that the bank account he’d originally made separate from his parents’ to “learn responsibility” has been completely cut off from them, that he studies maps of the town and looks into housing and works on fixing up his ancient car whenever he has the free time.

-It is a town of warnings, and it is a town of monsters, too. And Virgil has always dealt with monsters by hiding, clamping his hands over his ears and curling up in a ball under his bed.

-He thinks, now, he will try running.

-And so on the night of October 31st, he goes to bed at ten. “Goodnight,” he says to his parents, and when they check on him just before midnight, standing at his door and looking at his bed, he pretends to be asleep. They do not check under his bed and see the bag stashed underneath it, or pull down the covers and see him wearing his sneakers and jeans under them. He hears them go to bed, and when he checks on them a few minutes later, they are sound asleep.

-This is Virgil’s only chance, the night when no one will be outside to call his parents and tell them their son is leaving. He has been out after dark before, though never on Halloween -- invariably, someone spots him and calls his family. They are respected, in this town, and as his mother tells him, they cannot tolerate disrespect. Even the mayor is under their thumb, Virgil thinks, as policies his father agrees with pass and ones he disagrees with are never mentioned again.

-No one crosses the Mallorys. Except, of course, their own son.

-At half-past midnight, he climbs out of his window, backpack slung over one shoulder and his suitcase already packed into the trunk of his car, parked a little ways down the street. It is an easy climb, one he has made many times before, and though it is cold outside, his sweatshirt protects him from the worst of the wind. He has his parka and boots in the car as well, plus food, water, money -- all he needs. He is seventeen now, Virgil reminds himself. He can do this. It is legal.

-He tries not to think about what will happen if he is caught, so clearly trying to leave, and on All Hallow’s Eve, no less. He tries not to think about what his parents will do.

-He tries not to think about it, and yet the sound of his heart in his ears blots out every other sound.

-It is surprisingly easy. He sticks to the shadows, makes as little noise as possible, blinks slowly at the cats that he passes and watches them blink back, and he is in his car in no time at all. He is sure people hear him driving past, rush to their windows to see who is so foolish, who is awake, but he goes as quickly as his clunker of a car will allow and he leaves houses behind for the forest in no time at all.

-“Fuck,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and he can’t help but grin.

-Said grin abruptly vanishes when someone beside him says “Well, you seem to be in quite the hurry.”

-Virgil nearly drives the car into a tree, turning to see a man sitting beside him. He’s tall, the man, and is dressed one of Virgil’s teachers, blue tie and black polo shirt and black khakis. He is wearing sunglasses, the kind where you can’t see the eyes at all, and yet Virgil knows that he is looking directly at him.

-“Don’t panic,” says the man, which, yeah, too late for that, buddy. “I will not hurt you.”

-“Oh, that’s comforting,” says Virgil sarcastically, his knuckles white as he clings to the wheel. “Who are you? Did my parents send you?”

-“No,” he replies, and adjusts his glasses. He does not answer the first question. “I thought your people did not leave your dens on Samhain.”

-Virgil blinks. Turns that over in his head. “What are you?” he asks next, and the man grins. His teeth are pointed, and gleam in the light from the console.

-“Oh, so you are a clever one, then,” the man remarks, and Virgil tries to focus on not going off the road when the creature whispers its title into his ear.

-“Fuck,” he says, and it is not celebratory this time.

-“I told you I would not hurt you,” says the being beside him, sounding oddly perplexed. “I come in peace? I... offer my support and aid in whatever venture you may chose to embark on?”

-Virgil just stares at him for a moment, before returning his eyes to the road. “Will you get out of my car?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.

-“Not yet,” he says. “This is fun. Do you want a... ‘granola bar’?”

-He is holding out one of the bars Virgil had packed for the trip. It is peanut-butter flavoured, in bright packaging.

-“I know not to accept your food,” he says.

-“It is not mine,” the thing remarks, sounding confused again. “It is yours. And it is not enchanted. Why would you refuse it? Do you not like it?”

-Virgil is silent. The creature taps his chin with one long finger, staring down at the granola bar in his hand, and then straightens. “Ah. You do not trust me.”

-He still does not answer.

-“That is... understandable,” he agrees, sounding rather dejected nonetheless. “I swear, though, I mean you no harm. I have come to warn you, in fact.”

-His kind cannot break an oath. Virgil knows this. That is the only reason he turns, breaks his silence, asks “Warn me of what?”

-“They hunt you,” says the creature. “Your kin. They want to find you, Virgil Mallory, before you disappear.”

-He doesn’t even ask how this being knows his name. “Why?” Virgil says instead.

-“Humans will always cling to power,” he replies, tapping a finger to the space between Virgil’s eyes. “And you are gifted.”

“Cursed, more like,” he mutters, batting the hand away. Virgil’s eyes are purple and green, two unnatural shades that have always seemed to glow slightly in the dark. His parents had made a point of never speaking of the warnings surrounding a thing like him, but he heard them nonetheless.

-Beware of children whose eyes are not their own, and keep a changeling close, if you ever hope to see your own child ever again.

-There is a reason he grows his bangs over his eyes.

-“Gifted,” the being insists, and Virgil just sighs, turning to look at the road behind him. Even if he felt inclined to doubt his story, the lights of cars speeding down the road behind him is more than enough proof.

-“Okay,” he says. “How do I escape them?”

-The creature holds out his hand, glasses shining, and Virgil can’t tell if they are reflecting the console or the moonlight or if they aren’t reflecting anything at all, glowing from the inside. “Let’s make a deal, Virgil Mallory.”

-They find the car, parked in the middle of the road. This is all -- it is empty, nothing at all left behind to indicate it ever held Virgil at all, save for the black and silver and blue and purple dust that looks like a galaxy and shines in the darkness, covering the insides of the car. All of his belongings are gone, and his mother runs her fingers through the dust and screams.

-“I never got your name” Virgil says as he stands up, brushing the dirt from his jeans and turning to face the creature, in a forest far away where his parents will never be able to find him.

-“I am Logan,” he says, and grins that sharp smile again.

-It is years later that Virgil remarks “You know, I wasn’t supposed to make deals with any person I couldn’t see the eyes of.”

-“Really?” Logan asks, tilting his head to the side, looking so adorably confused. “What of deals not made in person? How does that work?”

-“I couldn’t make any bargains with anyone from outside the town,” Virgil explains, moving his hands in the way Logan had taught him, the way that speaks to the bees and prompts them to come closer.

-They stand together among summer flowers, before a hollow tree trunk, and around them the bees dance.

-“I’d like to stay with you forever,” Virgil admits.

-“Well,” says Logan, taking off his sunglasses, “let’s make a deal, then.”

-His eyes are like the sky at midnight, blue and black all at once, both absorbing light and shining with it, and Virgil thinks he falls in love all over again at the sight.

-“I think I’m done with deals,” Virgil shrugs, reaching up to tug Logan into a kiss. “You could make me do anything you wanted without them, anyways, my love.”

-Logan turns a delightful shade of red at that, and the bees hum around them as Virgil laughs.

-He never returns to his village again. He tells the children they take (the ones who would have died otherwise, the ones who were hurt, the ones who were not loved) that he’d made a mistake, running away with a scoundrel of a faerie like Logan (appearing in the middle of a metal deathtrap of a vehicle, really!) but the way he wraps his arms around his husband afterwards doesn’t exactly make the children believe his story.

-Virgil never regrets his deal made with the man whose eyes he could not see, nor does he regret running away from home on Halloween. He’s gotten Logan out of it, and the other beings like himself. He’s found a family here, in this forest where the bees hide amidst his hair and the flowers curl their stems around his fingertips, where the other fey treat him like a gift instead of a curse and the children do not run away as he approaches.

-He is happy, for the first time in his life. And the warnings he has grown up with vanish over the years, replaced with other words.

-You are kind. You are a gift. You are loved.

-I love you.

-And so Virgil breaks every rule, disregards every warning, and he has never been happier.

-(Except for the one about bees. Bees like gossip, and it’s always good to tell them about the events of the day, especially the deaths. Sometimes, they can help.)

I actually loved writing this one!!!! I hope you liked it too, anon!

Send me a fake fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write for it!

#analogical #romantic analogical #sanders sides #ts virgil #ts logan #virgil sanders #logan sanders #fae #?#its debatable #parents once again suck in a story cinder writes #we call that projection kids #cinder writes #cinder's prompts #cinder's prompt fills

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alchemist-shizun · 4 years

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Hello Logan! I'm afraid that I am not quite as knowledgable about the kinnie community as I would like to be. Can you explain exactly what it means that a kintype "comes out"?

Hello to you, I’m glad you reached out for this.

First off, I suggest you call it “kin community”, since the word “kinnie” is sometimes used as a way to tease people. (no harm done on this, you needn’t worry)

Before we dive in, I’ll give you a little explanation on the words I use:

-kin: the person itself who identifies as a certain character/animal/creature etc. (Ex. Purp is a Logan kin)

-kintype: either the creature/animal/character etc. you identify as. (I am Purp’s kintype)

-kintypes as I’ve said before can be not only fictional characters (fictionkin), you may want to look into the “otherkin” world to know more about that.

Purp used that “coming out” term, but the correct way to say it is “kinshift”, it is something that not all kins can do; basically to kinshift to a certain kintype means that the person itself actually becomes the kintype for a particular period of time. (Usually for Purp if it is strong enough it can last hours, other times the “connection” is a little low and the kintype shifts back in a matter of minutes.)

As you can see, during a shift the kin may prefer to be called with the name of the kintype they kinshifted to as well as using their pronouns. (Example: Since I’m out right now, you should call me Logan and use he/him pronouns. With Purp, you only use they/them.)

Since it may cause some confusion, a kinshift is not an identity shift. Purp is still Purp, I am, in some way, still Purp. But, it’s as if right now Purp became a Logan version of themselves. This is, in fact, why fiction kintypes you encounter could differ from canon.

If I can add, often a shift happens because the person has to deal with a certain situation that, in fact, triggers the shift. There can be positive and negative ones, meaning that when one shifts, the experience could be either good or bad, depends on the situation.

I apologize if this sounds wordy, I can try to go deeper in a clearer way about some things in case it’s needed.

#long post #the space nerd #logan sanders kin #kin #kin community

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years

Text

35 Q’s for Fanfic Writers

From this post

I’m having a shitty, rude alter-y, crap night so I’m just going to answer all of these to distract myself and focus and to not bother anybody just making my own post and putting it under the cut btw, notice to anyone not aware: since I’m moving I won’t likely be updating anything until I’m done doing so.

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!) 3/5? Could use more editing and description and can be weirdly paced.

2. Why do you write fanfiction? Because it’s better than focusing on pain 24/7.

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works? I don’t seem to have a specific narrative voice that people recognize but I’m pretty proud of mostly organic dialogue.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you? as a rule i never look up to anybody for inspiration but there’s some stuff in my ao3 bookmarks I fawn over.

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of? Right now, none of them. It changes normally, anyway. If get too proud then I’d get my ass kicked by RSD if someone didn’t like it so it’s safer this way

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily? Dialogue.

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most? Organic description, poetic language kind of stuff. I can paint a scene but I’m not so great with bring out out a feeling with description alone.

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write? Janus and Virgil are probably tied. They both have things I struggle with but I don’t have to go back and do much adjusting of language and tone with them. Though admittedly my Virgil is signifigantly more foul-mouthed than canon and I tend to prefer pre-AA feral asshole Virgil.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write? Patton. I write him the least, so people can probably tell. I love Patton, I really do, but it’s so hard to keep away from fanon Patton.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for? Angst w/ H/C obviously. Or if you’re talking about regular book genres, Fantasy. I fucking love fantasy world building.

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most? Trauma. I blame Daeram. As if Ayri isn’t a giant Angst Demon.

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about. Slopes. I’m really into it. I’ve got three one shots running right now. Patrons can read the first part of the unnamed cat remus one, there’s also a coffeeshop au tropey nonsense one like eglantine & lycoris, but Slopes is addiction angst. Mmmmm. Virgil is addicted to coke and alcohol and will listening to his friends even be in time? Who knows, especially not me, but there’s already over 30k.

13. First fandom you ever wrote for? InuYasha. Or was it Harry Potter? Or shit, The Blue Sword? Fuck, I’ve been writing for a long time, I really have no idea.

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for? Sanders Sides. The characters are the perfect dynamic for writing since they exist in balance of each other and the popular, easy to project on archetypes featured are incredibly fun to do basically any scenario with.

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for? Weird storywise? Kingdom Hearts? I can’t even follow the plot anymore. Weird Fandomwise? Sanders Sides. Its simultainiously the fluffiest and angstiest nonsense at the same time.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)? Vampires. Gay ones. Gay Vampires. I also love calm tol and angy smol.

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for. Any tropes that normalize incredibly toxic behaviour or tropes that are inherantly ableist, but I can’t think of any.

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written? Incorrigible continues to be complete nonsense.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between? AUs. I mean closest I even have is canon-divergence other than a single short.

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff? I like it when there is gay nonsense along with a plot that is treated as more important than the relationship the most. But I like both. There’s more shippy stuff in tss so i read more shipping action by default.

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!) Anxceit/Sleepxiety, but in general, give me darksides or give me death/j

22. Do you listen to anything while you write? Almost everything I write has a special playlist I listen to to help me write it, but otherwise I listen to my Nyan playlist, an alter is picking the tunes, or a voidfam playlist. I never have music off. When my internet is down I just listen to the songs I own or Anxiety’s theme on loop.

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas? I’m fine with all of them. I love working with prompts but I tend to deviate. And I’ve never done a challenge since I can’t do deadlines and bad things happen bingo never sent me a card and I applied three times.

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works? I am generally multi-chaptered stuff, but I’ve been working on a few one-shots lately that are much longer than most one shots.

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them! I was originally thinking of doing some little 13-year-old Dreaming!Roman (y’know, the one with a job) shorts but it turns out I just had an alter of that little bastard and that’s why I inexplicably know more about him then I ever even considered. I still might do them after Dreaming is done. But that’s paced so slowly who knows when that might happen. Otherwise I put stuff in my notes and just do shorts of it if I’m like “oh you know what’s cool???” but since I can’t daydream maybe this question doesn’t apply to me.

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try? I want to do more autism stuff, and I’ve had it demanded a few times, but I’m scared of being that explict about it for some reason. Possibly because I might be, possibly because I’m scared of doing it wrong even though I’ve accidentally coded multiple characters autistic. I’m scared of explictly tagging them as such, too.

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received? That I can remember off the top of my head? I’m going with one from @a-genz-with-trauma-and-kins. It really helped me out and was just so kind and literally the best christmas gift I got in 2020.

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing? I can handle it alright but Daeram is a little fucking pissbaby about it. Constructive criticism helps people get better, so I appreciate it. I can’t handle critism that is incomplete, though. “i just don’t get it” or “I don’t know I don’t like it” kind of things. If I can’t understand the why to fix it then things get out of control. And then I spiral and RSD for like four days minimum. If it came from an anon or a troll, too, It might not bother me for as long. Things that are just like “this is shit and you should feel bad” just make me laugh. Couldn’t even bother to read it long enough to insult me proper? I don’t care.

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out? I have a few times. Mostly in shorts and prompts, I think. I think they turned out okay. They’re not particularly inspired or anything.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst? Depends on my mood. Am I triggered? give me the fluff. Am I vibin? Angst.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them! Fuck, fam, no, I can’t, I have so many. I have multiple original stories and some of them have very large casts and like holy fuck. Or do you mean in Sanders Sides fandom? Um, Morgan and Thorn in PD. The lesbian and her himbo dynamic. I love them. They’re dorks. Morgan is strong person with sharp tongue and soft romantic heart and Thorn is just so kind and so dumb and so exciteable he’s like a puppy. They were just filler characters and I got attached to them. Felton even gets redemption for being an ass later in PD, like oof i never intended to include so much OC content, especially for names I just picked randomly.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less. nope I’m doing all of them because these are fun plea for my new self: 2 gay vampires, 4 humans, 1 braincell dreaming while I wake: trauma child needs therapy and so do you break: big oof, oh dragons, oh why, go virgil go rebuild: virgil is so not okay there’s more virgil to deal painful death: gay teens drink themselves into a new religion stargazing: whoops we didn’t realize people actually cared whole castle: everyone will throw down for kid!patton, even you incorrigible: found family with a shot of psychological horror and crack dangerous instincts: wholesome crime syndacite action slopes: addict gets mugged and thinks that’s just fine with him conflagration: logan avoids everything ever like a champ cat!remus: bored fae shifts gay pining from one person to another caffeine cyptids: caffinated gay panic goes faster than regular gay panic eglantine & lycoris: more tropes than you can toss a shoe at storytime: overpowered virgil also overreacts literally always

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process? an alter and I write together and I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen, what I’m writing about, or even what year it is. I often don’t even remember what I wrote. There’s no outline. I have an idea and I pick things at random for it. There’s just notes and an evil gleam in a demon’s eye. The only reason I know more than readers is because I take a long time to edit and some of these stories have fucking alters up in my head who can tell me things. Daeram tells me nothing. The writing demon supposedly has all this knowledge but I have absolutely no clue because he does not talk to me, he just fronts and slams out 9k in a few hours or we cofront to write and I’m like “oh no she didn’t” while typing

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of. i’m fond of the entire painful death series and I tried to find something I really liked without spoilers in stargazing and I couldn’t so here’s a random thing from incorrigble: “So, what do you do with your friends?” Patton continued on with a megawatt smile. “Grand larceny,” Virgil deadpanned and glared at Patton, who was taken aback. Remy and Andy just broke out laughing while Virgil tentatively sipped his still-too-hot-cocoa.

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want! slopes my dudes slopes i have learned so much about cocaine! like wow! I thought for a minute it was going to end with MCD around 30k but it swtiched from whump to hurt/comfort and I still don’t know if it’s going to be MCD but look at that funky little coke/alcohol addict go, it’s a medical wonder he’s alive! It’s not like there’s what seems to be a little talked about interaction between alcohol and cocaine that causes a toxic chemical to build up in the liver which can result in liver failure and sudden death at basically any moment! Which is part of why it may result in MCD but this time no ghosts! maybe it’ll be h/c with whump elements or maybe it’ll be whump with h/c elements we can’t know for sure

#ayri writes #tw drug mention

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