#absent gods and silent tyranny

[loverandservantoftheahlulbayt]

🍃🕊🍃 Some Quotes By 🍃🕊🍃

🍃 Imam al-Taqi (as) 🍃

🍃 Modesty is the decoration of poverty, thanks-giving is the decoration of affluence and wealth. Patience and endurance are the ornaments and decorations of calamities and distress. Humility is the decoration of lineage, and eloquence is the decoration of speech. Committing to memory is the decoration of tradition (hadīth), and bowing the shoulders is the decoration of knowledge. Decency and good morale is the decoration of the mind, and a smiling face is the decoration of munifence and generiosity. Not boasting of doing favours is the decoration of good deeds, and humility is the decoration of service. Spending less is the decoration of contentment, and abondoning the meaningless and unnecessary things is the decoration of abstention and fear of God.

al-Shahid al-Tustari, Ihqaqul-Haq, (vol.12, p. 434)

🍃 The honour of a person lies in his needlessness from the people.

Majlisi, Bihārul Anwār,

(vol.78, p. 365)

🍃 The one who conceals the (way of) prosperity and progress from you, has done enimity to you.

Majlisi, Bihārul Anwār,

(vol.78, p. 364)

🍃 If the ignorant keeps silent, people would not differ.

al-Shahid al-Tustari, Ihqaqul-Haq, (vol.12, p. 432)

🍃 The lapse of time uncovers hidden secrets.

Misnad al-Imām al-Jawād,

(p. 245)

🍃 Showing something before it becomes complete spoils that thing.

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

🍃 He, who does not know the entries, the exits will fail him.

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

🍃 Forbearance is the dress of a scholar, so do not get yourself undressed of it.

Majlisi, Bihārul Anwār,

(vol.78, p. 362)

🍃 The one who acts without knowledge, destroys and ruins more than he rectifies.

Majlisi, Bihārul Anwār,

(vol.78, p. 364)

🍃 Meeting and visiting brothers, even if little, causes the development and maturity of intellects.

Misnad al-Imām al-Jawād,

(p. 242)

🍃 Knowledgeable persons are strangers because of the many ignorant people around them.

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

🍃 The boon and benevolence which is not thanked for, is like the sin which is not forgiven.

Majlisi, Bihārul Anwār,

(vol.78, p. 365)

🍃 The one who commits aggression and tyranny, and the one who helps him upon it, and the one who is pleased over it - all are party and participants in it.

al-Shahid al-Tustari, Ihqaqul-Haq, (vol.12, p. 432)

🍃 The one who attended a matter and disliked it, is as the one who was absent; and whoever was not present in an affair yet was pleased with it, is as the one who witnessed it.

Ibn Shu’ba al-Harrani, Tuhaf al-'Uqul, (p. 479)

🍃 Our upriser is The Mahdi, who should be waited for in his absence, and obeyed in his appearance. He is the third of my sons.

Misnad al-Imām al-Jawād,

(p. 131)

🍃 When the divine decree descends, the human being is cornered.

Misnad al-Imām al-Jawād,

(p. 244)

🍃 Whoever has three things will never regret:

1) Refraining from haste

2) Consulting (with others)

3) And depending upon God when making decisions

Misnad al-Imām al-Jawād,

(p. 247)

🍃 There are three characteristics that attract kindness: being fair in dealing with others, being helpful when others are in hardships and bearing a truly compassionate heart.

Muhammadi Reishahri, Muhammad (2010). Mizan al-Hikmah. 2. Qum: Dar al-Hadith.

🍃 Man's death by sins is more than his death by fate and his life by charity is more than his life by age.

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

🍃 Take patience as your pillow, hug poverty, discard lusts, oppose your desires and know that you are seen by God, so look at how you are.

Ibn Shu’ba al-Harrani, Tuhaf al-'Uqul, (p. 479)

🍃 The increase of blessing is not interrupted by God, unless thanksgiving is interrupted by the slaves.

Ibn Shu’ba al-Harrani, Tuhaf al-'Uqul, (p. 480)

Three things take the slave to God's pleasure:

1) Increase in seeking forgiveness

2) Gentleness

3) Increased charity giving

Misnad al-Imām al-Jawād,

(p. 247)

🍃 Turning to God with the deep of the heart is much better than tiring the organs.

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005).

“From the Reality of Faith".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

Ad-Durr an-Nadhīm, (p.223)

🍃 Do not anticipate matters before their time that you may regret. Do not live just with wishes that your hearts may be hard. Be merciful to the weak and ask for mercy from God by being merciful yourselves!

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

🍃 Do not make an enemy of anyone until you know what there is between him and God! If he is good, God will not leave him to you and if he is bad, then your knowing of his badness will make you safe from him and so you do not need to make him your enemy.

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

🍃 People are brothers. The brotherhood that is not in the way of Allah turns into enmity, for Allah says, "Friends on that day will be foes one to another, save those who kept their duty (to God)."

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

🍃🕊🍃 Holy Quran (43:67) 🍃🕊🍃

🍃 Trusting in God is a price to every dear thing and a ladder to every high thing.

Baqir Sharīf al-Qurashi (2005). "Wonderful Maxims and Arts".

The life of Imam Muhammad al-Jawad.

.

[yaldev]

Sky God

MB was content, if guilty. Hers was a modest life of peace without toil, sustained by the collected donations of a cult long crumbled. There was no malice in her neglect, only despair: their god was an old rock, and once Deft was reassembled, what was there left to do but wait for the sign? So they waited, waited until even MB recognized that the foretold Flood was a misinterpretation.

This state of affairs lasted until an hour before her death, when she awoke from a spell-induced nap—one of two spells she knew—and found the world was ending. She dug through drawers for her keys, fired up the old all-terrain vehicle, and rolled her eyes at the meaningless religious baubles dangling from the rearview mirror. The truck started with much difficulty—it sounded as rusty as it looked—and charged toward the apocalypse as fast as traction would allow, breaching the Ashlands one last time.

These weren’t the Ashlands as she knew them. The ground was still dust, but it had an uncharacteristic moisture that clung to her wheels. She rolled down her window, and the air was less sterile. A physical relief, a rational panic. As the Flood closed in the Southern horizon glowed with violent pinks and reds, the clouds shifted by the all-destructive waters below. By the time she was close, the soil was damp with mystic waters.

Even if MB forgot the way, it would be easy to find. The Ashlands were so deserted, so devoid of the breath of life and wind that the treads from her last departure were still visible. They marked the way to the center of her cult’s operations: the machine that reassembled the pieces of a dead god. But as she approached the ground that housed the device, she caught other tracks along her ancient path, headed the same way. Others had been here. Had the cult of Deft continued in her absence? There was never anything to do out here but build sandcastles, weep for the folly of mankind and have lung cancer.

MB’s suspicion was confirmed when she found empty land where the machine once was. Her heart sank. Yet the moon was still here, a spherical boulder with obvious hairline cracks. If the cult survived her abandonment and whisked away the contraption, surely they would have taken the moon with them. This was the work of scrappers, who would have torn the mechanism to pieces and sold it for raw material. MB didn’t know whether that made her feel better or worse.

MB stepped out of her truck, felt the ground squish under her shoes, wetting her feet. The machine’s only purpose was analyzing the shards and fitting them with each other. To be reborn, Deft needed a spell, needed mana to fill its cracks and mend its injuries. MB knew the spell. She’d learned it for her disciples, but she’d never studied the magical arts, nor the Aethereal sciences. The source of her power was a faith she had no longer held.

Her toes stung. Gone were the flakes of ash: the wastes were submerged in a shallow puddle of liquid chaos, eating away at matter, at History, at her ankles. If the machine was gone, then Deft was the last evidence of the significance MB once held. She owed it to herself to put this sky god where it belonged.

MB rose a hand to the heavens, digits moving in accordance with an ancient sign language. Deft was about more than her. This was for her vanished congregation, to whom a promise was made when the impossible Flood would strike. And more than that, it was for the ancient progenitors before them, the extinct believers in a great bird, the Master of Wind and Rain, for whom the celestial object closest in the world, most vigilant in its watch, was named. She felt their pain in her heart, balled in her fist, creeping up her legs.

The line ran from ancient sages to princes and kings to the greatest bastion against Pelbeean tyranny. There it shattered into a hundred stone fragments lying in Original grass, and watched in silent awareness while Yaldev, absent its rightful ruler’s protection, was brought low. The line ran through the hands of every lunatic who built the machine, dug up the pieces, and brought every pebble back together.

Determination wasn’t faith, but it was close, and in the midst of a sorcerous armageddon it was enough. Her nimble fingers had pulled the tides up through the cracks, suffusing the rock with the stuff of potential, tying its body in the shape it bore in life with a metaphoric thread made real. The biggest shards flew first, the smallest last, and above the inspired gestures of its final disciple, the moon was rebuilt.

The winds above MB were torrential. Almost immediately her god rolled away in the sky, hurtling North. That was the direction of town, but also Origin. She wanted to go with him, but her truck was slow, and her legs were melting into protoplasmic goop. Only the waves had a chance to keep up, so MB stifled her whimpers, conjured herself a spell-induced nap, and splashed forward.

Deft soared through the heavens toward the lands that killed him. This he had to see.

---

Yaldev is a sci-fantasy worldbuilding project by Ulysses Maurer, with art by Beeple. By looking at narratives, stylized loredumps, bad poetry and little details, we'll witness the story of a planet filled with magical power, the nation which tried to conquer it, this empire’s dramatic collapse and the new world which emerged in its wake. Along the way we'll meet the characters who live here, and we'll explore questions about nationalism, rationalism, the natural world and the quest to master it. For all stories in chronological order, check out the pinned posts at r/Yaldev!

[theeternalspace]

Masterpost of my Works in Progress Sanders Side’s Fanfic

Looking for my Completed Works? Click HERE

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone (Platonic LAMP, Brotherly Prinxiety, Logan & Virgil focus)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

Dr. Logic makes his living working for whichever Super Villain is willing to pay. At the end of the day it is a job where he can put his talents to work.He certainly isn’t bothered by things like public morality or the definition of good vs evil.

He doesn’t have time for things like that, although he accepts that he would be considered a ‘bad guy’. As far as Logan is concerned, it is a small price to pay for the benefits of proper scientific funding.

But when his latest invention fails and his Boss decides to punish someone else for his mistakes, Logan is forced to reevaluate everything he thought he knew.

And maybe accidentally make some friends along the way.

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(Honey you Should) See Me in a Crown (Prinxiety)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

“You are a marvellous creature, trapped inside such a small little cage” - Original Prompt.

When Thomas is attacked by Intrusive Thoughts, it is down to Virgil or Roman to deal with them. The Creative Side had vanished into the Imagination many hours ago to deal with one and hadn’t come back.

Following Roman into his world, Virgil discovers to his horror that the Intrusive Thought had somehow managed to possess his friend.

In control of the imagination and with Virgil his prisoner, it is clear that the Thought has a real plan in mind instead of causing chaos for the sake of it. But what does he actually want from his ‘Little Bird’?

And can Virgil escape in time to save Roman, Thomas and perhaps even himself?

Click HERE for a ficlet by @theitalianscribe on a possible reason why Remus isn’t in this story.

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House of Leaves (Prinxiety)

Tumblr Masterpost  // Ao3 Link

Hero and Villain AU.

The Dazzling Prince wants many things in life. To rule, to have power, to be loved. To have his hero renounce the light and dance with him in the shadows of night.

When his other half comes to him for help, Roman finds himself being offered the thing he wants most in the world - if only he can reach out to take it.

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On Yggdrasil’s Branches (Prinxiety & Platonic LAMP)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

The inhabitants of the mindscape are all under the strain of Remus finally revealing himself to Thomas. None more so, it appears, than Virgil. Worried about his Dark Strange Son, Patton takes it upon himself to visit unannounced. Only to discover Virgil’s unconscious form in Deceit’s arms as the snake faced side flees into his area of the mind.

Nothing Deceit does is ever as it seems however and once drawn through his doorway, Patton, Roman and Logan all find themselves in strange new stories, cut off from Thomas and each other.

A new reality, a unique world for each with no idea of how they got there or how to get home.

One of the few constants is Virgil. Except it’s a different Virgil every time. A different Virgil with a different story and a distinct different personality. He never seems to recognise them but it doesn’t take long for each to realise that the way home is intimately linked to their missing anxious friend.

The only problem is the other constant in each world - Remus.

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Redemption has Stories to Tell (Prinxiety, Sleepxiety, Whatever a Roman/Virgil/Remy Polyamory is called)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

For his 18th birthday, Roman Sanders had expected presents, getting drunk, maybe, in his wildest dreams, a car of his own. Not to be told his parents had sold their first born to a demon, payment to be collected on his birthday. Today. No matter what he might want from life, it seems as though his destiny is nothing more than to be dragged down to Hell.

Virgil doesn’t want a human soul but he knows he doesn’t have a choice in the matter, not after his dad insisted and he finds the human not at all what he expected. Maybe this won’t be as terrible as he feared.

And Remy? Well Remy just wants to make sure this human doesn’t steal what is his.

But nothing can ever be that simple can it? Not when forces start to meddle in the very fabric of the Underworld and the group find themselves torn apart as new battlegrounds are forged and old secrets come bubbling to the surface.

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The Consequences of Sound. (Prinxiety & Platonic LAMP)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

Anxiety hurts Thomas. It's just what he does, what he has always done. It's not what he wants. He only wants to protect him but that is easier wished for than done. When the opportunity to prove himself opens up to him, he grabs it, for once not caring about the consequences. Things go downhill from there.

The fall, rise, fall (and rise again) of Virgil.

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When the Wolfbane Blooms (Sleepxiety & Logince)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

In retrospect, Virgil supposed the only surprising thing about being tied up in the woods and left to die by his village was that it hadn’t happened sooner.

Chosen as the sacrifice to the monsters in the wood, Virgil expects to be torn limb from limb by some savage creature intent on eating his heart. Or dragged deeper into the trees to be part of some horrible ritual. Maybe even kept as some kind of pet or living trophy - after all nobody knows what happens to the sacrifices, only that they are never seen again.

The beasts that lurk within are not what he expects however and soon Virgil finds himself in a desperate battle to protect his new found family against the growing anger of the villages around the forest, while trying to understand what has happened to him, his attraction to the mysterious leader of the group, and making sure Roman and Logan stop wasting time and finally admit their feelings for each other.

Can he save them or will he realise too late the real truth - that humans can be the worst monsters of all.

There is some outstanding art HERE by @justisaisfine of Remy and Virgil’s first meeting

[wearepaladin]

I think Forsetti should follow Ranni, as I think it is the only truly good ending. After all, Ranni aspires to remake the world, and to make it better. While the greater will is...ok, this could definitely be considered spoilers, but not necessarily for any of the endings. It's heavily implied throughout the game that Grace and the Greater Will are not the same thing, that the Will just controls Grace. I am of the opinion that Grace is the only actual "god" of the world, but it's an idiot god. Like Azathoth of the cthulu mythos, or the heart of the world or whatever from berserk. Grace isn't sapient, it doesn't think or have a will of its own. The Greater Will has usurped the power of Grace, and uses that to justify itself. But the Will is literally an eldritch god, or technically, multiple eldritch gods. The Greater Will is literally space dragons. So, your choices are to reinstall the tyranny of Outsiders, make the world worse by several escalating degrees, or start over. Unmake the current world and try again, with a being who is actually capable of being kind and feeling love for others in charge this time. The Sun is dead, but a reflection of its light yet persists. Follow the moon, paladin, into a new and brighter future. (Or make a separate save file and try every ending to find what you like :P)

I think you're making more than a few assumptions. The Sun is absent, but not dead. The Church of the Eclipse in Castle Sol indicates that it's still out there, somewhere. In the church itself, the room itself bathes briefly with sunlight when we enter it, indicating its patron is not gone.

And while much is obscured, the mending rune of order makes a point of saying it can create a system free and uncorrupted from the touch of morally flawed gods, be they outer entities of strange formless countenance, or demigods with only power as their division from humanity.

Goldmask seemed like he was silently seeking for a more just world and died to make it possible. And a world where Justice is clearly defined and does not allow even the powerful to abuse their station has its appeals I think to everyone.

[greenninjagal-blog]

currently vibing in a two-week lockdown, can you share some of your favorite fics? i need some new things to read, and I've got too much time on my hands-

Aw man, same! The rest of my actual Spring Semester got turned online… Let’s see…..Fic recs for the pseudo End of the World (Courtesy of AO3, arranged by most prominent ship!) Keep in mind that my descriptions are shorter and written mostly for comedic effect than the actual fics, so if something looks interesting Click it! Get more info about it! Don’t just take my word! I tried my best to get a lot of variety of fics and topics and tropes, as well as authors that might not be as well known! Uhhh here are the links to lists I’ve already made for various other reasons check out my Fic Rec Masterlist!

I also am including various of my fav authors masterlists for funsies!

jungle321jungle’s || Max-isTired’s || TrashficParlour’s || Lefaystrent’s || Mine!

Completed Fics

A Deal in which Virgil tries to summon a familiar and gets a Circle King instead. And he’s really pretty. (Anxceit)

Love Like You in which Virgil decides to give up looking for a romantic partner and considers adopting instead. He finds more than he’s looking for with a set of twins and the man who watches over them (Anxceit)

A Dragon’s Tail in which Logan is cursed to be a Dragon by his best friends stepmother, Virgil is struggling to learn a power he can’t control, Patton who’d rather marry a servant than the Prince, and Roman has no clue what is going on but the Prince he’s supposed to be saving can probably kick his ass. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

A Game of Vice in which Remus kidnaps Roman and turns it into a game of who can come save him from his lonely tower. (Logicality, Prinxeity) 

double down with the paradigms in which Logan tries to explain away his own OCD while dealing with the emotions he has for a certain Pre-Vet. Excellent depiction of OCD, made me cry, 300/10 would read again. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

It Takes Two to Tango in which Roman begs his brother, Logan, to let him go back in time to meet a famous dancer. Falling in Love was not part of the plan. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

A favorite star in the heavens in which everyone has at least one soulmate. They’re luckily enough to have three each. (LAMP) 

Forgotten Forests and Magnified Myths in which Logan finds out very suddenly that he has the passive ability to talk to dragons. (DAMP, Remilie)

Sense5 in which five people in different countries are suddenly psychically linked together and uh…yeah fun times. (DLAMP)

Stray Hearts Are Subject To Change in which black cat hybrid Virgil plans to die very heroically in an alley and Roman completely messes up that plan by being a decent human being. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

Hidden In Shadows in which Virgil is the boogieman every adult warned you about but he doesn’t actually enjoy being scary. Good thing the three Sanders kids aren’t scared of anything. (Not so good for their very confused Dad who isn’t sure what to do about their new imaginary friend)

Paved with Good Intentions in which the dark sides agree to send Virgil to the light sides as a way to get Thomas to listen to them more. Now if Virgil can just get along with the Light sides enough to actually start making some progress…

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone in which Logan is a morally grey scientist who just works for supervillains because they pay well. He doesn’t expect someone like Virgil to change that.

Series

Clouds and Moss AU in which the sides are gods and its very gay and very good. (Intrulogical, Roceit)

Colors in which Logan is an excellent Dad, Virgil is an amazing son, and the world is very colorful. (Logicality)

Labeled in which Logan is a famous superhero, Patton is a doctor, and they adopt the would-be super villain and everything is soft and lovely and I cry at the purity. (Logicality, Remilie)

Fbi!au in which the sides work for the fbi and I diligently reread these series of oneshots for a daily dose of serotonin!  (Logince, Moxiety)

Growing Old is More Fun with You in which Patton is a PTA dad and so is Deceit and they have a “rivalry”. (Mociet)

Gilded Cage in which Roman is forced to dance for the fairy queen whenever she wants it. (Prinxiety)

Renegades! in which the sides live in a dystopia and fight the government while being completely in love with each other. (Prinxiety, Logiciality) 

Love and Other Fairytales in which a couple decides to keep their changling and their actual son, a child is cursed gifted a voice that makes people do whatever he says, a boy makes a rotten deal for the sake of his friend, and centuries before any of this, a fae prince is tricked into an endless sleep by his brother. 

The Vampire Hunting Vampire in which Virgil was turned into a monster and LPR slowly convince him he’s not as bad as he thinks he is. Through cuddles. (LAMP, DLAMP)

Wasteland, Baby! in which there are things in the woods and Patton gets,,, intimate with them. On purpose! (LAMP)

Destined in which Damian has successfully ignored his Soulmates for five years and he planned on doing it for much longer but on his twentieth birthday fate intervenes with a second soultrait that forces him to come face to face with all of them. (DLAMP)

Old Gods in which Gods sometimes walk the earth and Remus is pleased to hear that people are still making offerings to him– wait that is not a goat. And other fun stories!

Sit back and watch the world go by in which Virgil is a human abducted by alien smugglers, befriends Patton, breaks out, and everyone fears humans as space orcs, almost as much as Virgil is afraid of them. 

Teaming the Pieces Together in which Thomas is a pokemon trainer and eevees just…click with him.

Tales from the Dark Sides in which the author provides a lovely hub of works where Virgil is abused by OC dark sides and DLMPR are there to help patch him up.

Uncle Emile and the Super Nephews in which Emile gets custody of his six nephews and tries to bond with them. They in turn try very hard not to tell him they have superpowers.

Cuffed Universe in which Remus is a cop chasing after a hacker, Logan breaks the laws and Virgil would just like tO KEEP ONE JOB WITHOUT ONE OR BOTH OF THE OTHERS DRAGGING HIM INTO THEIR SHIT. (Analomus)

Ongoing Fics

The Origin in which space travel via Thomas Sanders’s ship SS Revelation gets more complicated when the Planets themselves turn out to be entities who aren’t all on board with humanity spreading to the rest of the solar system. (Remile) 

Delicato in which Logan and Patton are music professors with very different conceptions of music, and Virgil and Roman are students in both their classes who just want them to kiss already. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

Coming out of The Shadows in which a small mutant child Virgil is treated as subhuman because of his uncontrolled ability to manipulate shadows up until a scientist buys him. (Royality)

Falling Stars At My Command in which Roman wishes on a star and Patton reaps the benefits while Logan unfortunately gets dragged along for the ride. (Royality) 

Sugar in which Patton has three sons and no free time to bother with a relationship while he’s trying to manage bills. At least until Roman walks into his life. Sugar Daddy anyone? (Royality) 

A Man, a Snake, and a Rat in which Logan, Deceit, and Remus become college roomates (Intruloceit) 

a.s.h.es, ashes (We all fall down) in which after Logan almost dies during one of his recuse missions, him and his partner start to dig into the superhero agency they’re employed by and stumble into something far bigger than they expected. (Logicality, Prinxiety, LAMP? LAMP)

Keep him safe in which Detective Logan falls for the owner of his new favorite bakery while his partner Roman falls for the gang member they’re chasing. Ft: emotions, a pet rat, dealing with delusions 101, trauma, and family so gooey it literally makes me melt whenever it updates. I love this fic so much. (Advertises as Logicality and Prinxiety but theres so much LAMP I can’t not put it down here)

Multitudes in which Virgil works at a coffeeshop, pines over the customers that come in, and wonders why they all tip him so well. (LAMP)

Songbird in which the only thing keeping Virgil’s parents alive is his voice: the moment the (new) King gets tired of listening to him its off with all their heads. And Virgil’s okay with that, he is…. Until three visiting nobles leaving him wishing for his freedom for the first time since he was ten. (LAMP)

Shatter in which Logan gets fed up with not being listened to, and takes some poor advice from Rage, which ends with the entire Mindscape being turned upside down and inside out. Now its up to Deceit fix it all. (aka the author decided it was about high time Deceit got some love and appreciation and I’m out here living for it.) (DAMP)

Incredible Cosmic Power in which Virgil awakens some genies by accident and they refuse to let him go back to living a relatively normal peaceful life. (DLAMP)

Plea for my New Self in which Vampire Virgil decides he wants to start over again, and goes back to college to work on coding. There he proceeds to do reckless good with his absurd amount of wealth and a “fuck it” attitude. Actually one of my favorite things ever okay. I love this one so much. (DLAMP)

Your Wish Is My Command in which Thomas accidentally rubs six lamps and becomes the glorified babysitter to six jinn who definitely don’t trust him. But its fineeee. (DLAMP)

6 Dads in which Deceit, Emile, Remus, Roman, Thomas, and Remy make a relationship work and their children aren’t sure how but go along with it anyway.

Rebel Rebel in which Thomas, a well respected man, visits the Imagination, for some pleasure business as a one time thing. Except that he keeps coming back. Maybe maybe falls in love with one, two, thr– all of the men who work there. 

A New Kind of Experiment  in which Virgil runs away from home, and ends up kidnapped by merman, and somehow he doesn’t mind that much.

Becoming His Own Hero in which everyone has to juggle their superhero lives with their regular lives and sometimes…its just hard.

don’t wanna be a tragedy in which brothers Roman and Remus get a house and subsequently find out its totally, completely, 100% haunted.

Don’t You, Forget About Me in which the author recreates Breakfast club and does it spectacularly.

Heart’s Heroes in which Patton may be a villain but that does not mean he wants to see the child heroes of the city dead.

Mortals and Fae in which Deceit barely escapes the wrath of his town when they all turn against him. Dying, he stumbles into a fairy circle hoping that with his name the fae make his death short and sweet. Big Shock for him when he wakes up with a Fairy Prince swearing to protect him.

Sanders Family in which Thomas adopts six kids and has no regrets about it.

How Not to Go About an Important Inspection in which after a devastating betrayal the crew of the USS Bifrost is docked for repairs and the crew just wants to go back to being a normal family but Command is insisting on an inspection to ensure nothing so…drastic occurs again.

Symbiotic in which certain Vampires have a vemon that leaves with victims craving getting their blood drunken. Deceit, one of these Victims, continues to burn bridges because that’s easier than admitting he might need help dealing with this. 

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

HI HEY I REALLY LOVE YOUR BLOG AND I WAS WONDERING sorry if you’ve been asked this before but do you have any good logan centric fics? i miss my boy 😭

Aw thank you! Also do you mean logan-centric fics that I’ve written?? Because I have a few. I’ll also share some from other fic authors as well! 

My fics:

A Singular Cog in The Machine:  Logan adheres to the belief that needs of the many far outweigh the needs of the one, the latter being himself.

The Wind Beneath My Wings: A few months ago Logan would find humans taking flight like birds to be absurd. A few months ago Logan didn’t have wings. platonic logicality

Wishful Thinking:   Logan folds a thousand paper cranes to see if good luck will follow suit. Platonic LAMP

Astraphobia: Logan knows it’s illogical to fear the storm, and yet it he still fears it. Fortunately, the others are there to comfort him. Platonic LAMP

Birthday Cake: Logan doesn’t understand why birthday cake tastes any different than normal cake–in fact, he doesn’t understand the whole point of birthdays in the first place. Platonic LAMP

A Sickness of the Mind: Logan’s sick and he hasn’t been taking care of himself properly, choosing to work instead of rest. Fortunately Roman is there to save the day. Platonic Logince

A Hypothesis: The last thing Logan expected was his arch-nemesis to show up his doorstep in tears and claim defeat. Platonic Logicality

Star Light, Star Bright:  Every night, Logan would climb onto the rooftops to stare at the stars. He wants more than anything to become an astronomer. But how can he become an astronomer when his sight is failing him? platonic logince

Some More Wonderful Logan-Centric fics by Others:

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone by @theeternalspace: 

Dr. Logic makes his living working for whichever Super Villain is willing to pay. At the end of the day it is a job where he can put his talents to work.

He certainly isn’t bothered by things like public morality or the definition of good vs evil. He doesn’t have time for things like that, although he accepts that he would be considered a ‘bad guy’. As far as Logan is concerned, it is a small price to pay for the benefits of proper scientific funding.

But when his latest invention fails and his Boss decides to punish someone else for his mistakes, Logan is forced to reevaluate everything he thought he knew.

And maybe accidentally make some friends along the way. Platonic Analogical

Some Sort of Window to Your Right by @theeternalspace: 

As a figment of someone else's imagination, Logan has always been frustrated by the way the other sides insist on pretending to be truly human.

Upon discovering a way to stop wasting time without hurting Patton’s feelings, Logan eagerly grabs it.

Virgil and Roman only want to help but they might end up making things worse before the matter is solved. platonic lamp 

(Listen, I really love Acantha’s Logan voice and both these fics are so good, pls read the heck out of them)

Kid!Logan AU by @lefaystrent:  Logan somehow finds himself back in time, waking up in his eleven-year-old body. Platonic LAMP.  (Listen, it hasn’t been updated in months but I love Lefay’s work and this AU is no exception in terms of having you in tears of laughter one moment and in actual tears the next) 

Anddddd unfortunately my mind is drawing a complete blank on other logan-centric fics so if anyone has any they’d like to share, pls feel free to add on! 

[chaoskirin]

The Tale of Awuri Bril

Awuri always had a desire for gentle power. 

She never wanted to take over the world, or lead with an iron fist, or destroy those weaker than her. But she felt she had the intelligence to lead more efficiently and benevolently than most, and this notion drove her through her teens and into her young adulthood.

Unfortunately, when she was at an age where she could make a difference, she learned the sad truth: even in a world where magic should have made every necessity free to everyone, certain people still found ways to circumvent availability for their own gain. 

It started with the abolition of the global Minir currency and the creation of the Tel-noc, which made people reliant on a finite resource--most of which went to the manufactured wealthy. This new money seemed readily available to the ruling class, but was only reluctantly provided in small increments to the few  people who provided services to those in charge. 

Slowly, the country of Keltreu closed off to the rest of Erit.

Awuri was not content to watch people die around her as people with magic were prevented from providing food, heat, and water to people who were in need. Even the concept of studying the arcane became taboo, and those adept in it were quietly exiled. The population of elves dwindled until, at the end of the decade, there were none left. 

Awuri was lucky enough to be a human in an area that was rapidly becoming less diverse. She invented and facilitated an underground movement comprised of people too frightened to speak out in public. Among them were magic-users, revolutionaries, warriors--all sorts who were ready to jump at the chance to free Keltreu from tyranny. 

And while Awuri didn’t usually act alone--she always told those around her that they were all stronger together--the opportunity arose to assassinate the Prime--the self-proclaimed leader of the country. 

It would have worked. It should have worked. The Prime was alone, his entourage of lackeys and bodyguards absent. 

Then Awuri woke up halfway around the world, grievously injured and with no idea how. She was told that after the attack, her underground network managed to get her away before she was killed. And that there was still a bounty on her head. 

While she didn’t want to hide, she also realized she couldn’t do a damn thing if she was dead. After some back and forth, she managed to gain an audience with Kinwa of the Tark Den, one of the most powerful sphinxes ever known.

Kinwa was hesitant to meet with Awuri at first, as the leader of the Tark Den believed the displaced revolutionary would ask for an army of liori to take back her country. However, Awuri spoke of patience. Self-reliance. Strategy. And never once asked Kinwa to put her people at risk.

For the first time, Kinwa found herself genuinely attracted to the prospect of becoming a patron. To lead this young human through the process of Achisthus--to train her in the ways of the liori. 

And when Awuri was ready, she became The Redstripe. The Maned Sphinx. The Avenger of Keltrou. Twenty aur after leaving her home, she returned and assassinated the Prime and those surrounding him in a near-silent coup. In the morning, the white floors in his palace were stained red.

But Awuri realized she was no longer one of the people. She had been the facilitator of their freedom, but she no longer belonged with them. This was okay; while the grateful citizens of Keltrou encouraged her to stay, to lead them, she felt her destiny now lay elsewhere. Her people could now lead themselves into a much brighter future, without the shackles of the Prime’s administration pulling them down. 

Sometimes she checks in with them. All these aur later, they still prosper. They remind their children of the mistakes of the past so they’re never repeated. Keltrou has become open, free, and bright. 

The Redstripe’s story isn’t over. The gods are stirring; the future winds before her like wisps of intangible fog. But she’s told her greatest moment is yet to come...

[razionalitabastarda]

Absent gods and silent tyranny 

We're going under, hypnotized by another puppeteer 

And tell me why the men in cloaks always has to bring me down 

Running from the ghosts and shadows, the world just is a rouse

[gnbrkrs]

So, I've been listening to Muse a lot lately( don't judge me), and...

I am getting serious WoL/ Gaius/ anyone who fights the Ascians vibes from Mercy.

I mean, there are lyrics like “men in cloaks always seem to run the show”. Then the following passage:

“Absent gods and silent tyranny We’re going under hypnotised By another puppeteer”

These sound like things a person fighting Ascians would think, don’t you agree? No? It’s just me? Okay…

[thehoneybuzz]

Mirror, Mirror

I am about to deliver you a fact that is both shockingly terrifying and throughly liberating. Are you listening?...

Okay, then.

Here it goes.

The fact.

NOBODY IS REALLY LOOKING AT YOU.

Shocked? I certainly was when I realized how little I was being looked at having spent so much time and energy in desperation, trying to be seen. Shocked and insulted, I began to notice the lack of looking. It was everywhere - absent from banks, beaches, and bookstores alike. Nobody was looking over newspapers in judgment, there were no silent whispers or murmuring large crowds. I was terrified of the isolation. Why weren’t people looking at me?

Certain exceptions became evident, of course. Occasionally one may get notice, but only intense notice leads to looking. More often there is circumstantial notice where one is more likely unseen than thoroughly examined.

But I’m telling you... overall... nobody is really looking. At least not how you think.

And here’s how I know:

When I visit my parents home in Washington I am often trapped by a mirror. An incredible, illuminated, magnifying mirror owned by my mother. Incredible and yet common, this mirror is a staple of most homes and hotel rooms. You know the one. Every pore becomes a crater, every wrinkle line a canyon in your skin. Dark hair grows from corners of lips, on chins, and in all the wrong creases of the eyebrow. It is a mirror that lends itself to preening and plucking and perfecting. It is a mirror of strong jurisprudence delivering swift judgments on beauty and self-worth. It is a harsh mirror that seems to reveal you in each of your flaws magnified by 10 and illuminated, too. It is the mirror that you ask, “Is this really what I look like?” And it unflinchingly reflects the answer you dread.

“It is your reflection, isn’t it?” It says. The mirror is tricky that way.

Well...

I hate that fucking mirror.

I hate that fucking mirror because it has lied to you. Not outright - those pores are still there. Lines too. But nobody is really looking at you. I promise they don’t see craters or holes. Not like a mirror does. Nobody puts your face under a microscope (power set to 10X) and evaluates your imperfections in a cold, uninterrupted silence. Certainly this is not the practice of the people who really matter.

Imagine it. After one particularly eye-watering mirror episode, I sit nose-to-nose with my husband. Our foreheads touch as we laugh through our day and express the mutual weirdness we call love and he never once mentions my eyebrows. I search the annals of our relationship history and never once has he disparaged or praised them if I wasn’t explicitly soliciting feedback. Their existence has not once been mentioned organically over the course of our relationship, not even in passing. In fact without glasses, Ian is much closer to legally blind than freelance aesthetician offering discounted brow liner with consultation. He sees my smile, he sees my eyes, he feels my warmth, and that is what he consumes from me. Not my god damned eyebrows. Not what the mirror told me was important and jarring and resolute. The mirror cannot even perceive the things that matter - how could it, and why would we expect it to?

That is how I broke the spell of the mirror. I pressed my nose up to Ian and asked myself, “I wonder how he sees me” - and as though in answer to my question, silently posed, he squinted back.

The answer to my question: “Not well.”

Spell broken and fog lifted, I laughed, renouncing the mirror and all of its teachings. I would polish and preen my heart, instead. The invisible parts. The thoroughly liberated parts that recognize that by removing myself from the center of judgment I was free to express and be. To unapologetically exist. Those were the parts worthy of magnifying to examine, certainly more worthy than the cartilage of my nose.

Maybe... just maybe... the better way to say “Nobody is really looking at you,” is to say “The content of your character is far more important than your pursuit of physical beauty standards and you are free to care as much or as little about your eyebrows as is warranted by your soul.” But I like my way better. It can shock you out of your fear if only just for a moment.

The fights not over, though. Even now we are still entrenched in a contest against the mirror and all of its tyranny. The mirror has allies, formidable and intimidating.

“Everyone is looking at you.” They say.

The bathroom scale. The false friend. The grade point average. The salary. The happiness of others. The socially published highlight reels consumed en masse. These rogues! All the things we measure ourselves by form an army assaulting our worth and self-love - but we can expose the flanks of these enemies by dropping bombs of unabashed self-adoration. By recognizing that no one is really looking at us, sharing that secret, and building our worlds up around us we take away the power of judgment. We dismantle the power we have given tangible objects to measure intangible things. By asking, “How do I see myself?” Instead of “How do they?” We advocate for our hearts. We look at ourselves. We do this because no one else is really looking, and when no one else is really looking, we are free.

Be free.

[robsstrangerthings-blog]

MERCY // SIMULATION THEORY_DRONES

Absent gods and silent tyranny, we're going under, hypnotized by another puppeteer, and tell me why the men in cloaks always have to bring me down.

[rhyfelwyr]

SIREN ------------------ a collection of short Maya drabbles.

i.    i was just a kid

It hurt. It hurt and it itched and it burned, but she couldn’t move. If she moved, if she even let out a whimper, she knew she’d get in trouble for it. She was not to speak, not to move. Obey, obey, obey. Her fingers were cramping - cold sweat was pouring down her back. She could hear a woman crying, begging and pleading.

Crying doesn’t help, Maya wanted to tell her. They don’t care for crying. They’ll take what is due, or they’ll take your life. Such was the way of the Order of the Impending Storm. Such was her way.

Her focus was slipping - her energy depleting. Normally, it didn’t take this long for people to give in to the Order’s demands. Just moments of holding them captured in her phaselock was usually enough. But this woman cried and pleaded while the boy - he must be her age, she thought absently, about eighteen - stood there before brother Sophis, hands raised into fists, blood on his lips and one of his blue eyes was slowly swelling shut. His sister - Maya thought she must be only a handful of years older than her - was caught in the web of blue, frozen in time, immobile and stuck in an expression of pure horror. She looked away quickly.

“ We can’t pay, ” the boy said again, frustration gleaming in his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. Sophis wouldn’t have it. “ Your father should’ve thought about it before he got himself killed, ” came his monotone reply. “ Maya? ” He sent a look over his shoulder at her, dark eyes narrowing slightly.

She was a weapon in his hands and she would gladly do as told. It was for the order. It was the way of the land. It was her purpose. Savior - executioner. 

The siren let out a slight gasp - power stretching to the limit, and the sister suddenly cried out, the bubble bursting, limp body falling, hitting the ground with a thud. She wasn’t dead - but she would be soon enough. The burns covering her skin would take care of that. Slowly. The boy was crying in earnest now ; hatred in his eyes, directed only to her. But she hadn’t given the command. She’d only executed it.

So she didn’t care.

Taking a step back, she collided with the chest of brother Reqhim - who’s hands descended on her shoulders, keeping her on her feet when she wobbled, knees weak, which she was thankful for. This had to be the longest time she’d held someone in her phaselock yet - and it was consuming all of her energy. Her limbs were trembling and she needed to take several deep breaths - later, she’d be eating for three to get her energy levels back up.

“ See, now - lesson learned, huh? ” She knew brother Sophis would have a pleasant smile on his face. She knew it from her own training, each time she’d failed. He was a stern teacher, awfully harsh and as unbending as steel, but in the end he’d always place his hand on her shoulder and tell her she did well. That every failure was a lesson, and she was a good student. She never made the same mistake twice. She worked hard to never see the disappointment in his eyes again.

His smile was a reward for her, but she didn’t think it would be for this boy. 

ii.    in plain view

Twenty-four and left with more questions than there were answers. She hadn’t seen brother Reqhim since he’d told her of the other sirens ; of her not being alone in this world. There were up to five others like her at all times, harnessing powers as spectacular as her own. There were planets out there that she’d never heard of before. Wars and creatures and alliances. 

She felt small underneath all of that sky. A kid playing at being a deity. What was she doing here, what was her point? Did the other sirens live like this? Revered, feared and loved by people whose faces she rarely saw. As much the name they prayed to as a name they warned children about in order to get them to behave.

Would they stand for living like this? It had taken courage to approach Sophis, her handler, responsible for her education. The face of her youth, the one who knew her better than most ( though she had realized lately that the same could not be said the other way around ). To tell him what she knew, what she’d learned and what she wanted. To see more - to get off this planet and see what more the universe had to offer. To learn more about people like her. He’d encourage it, she’d thought. He always hammered on her education, said it was good that she knew more about her powers. About the limits to which she could push herself.

But instead of his enthusiasm, she’d received a strangely cold stare. An inquiry, how did she come to learn such nonsense, and then, when she told him of brother Reqhim, a small smile and a pat on the shoulder. “ There are times for everything, times where the world beyond will be open to us, and I can assure you, Maya, that expanding beyond this planet will surely happen. But not now. Not when we are still so - unstable. Patience, dear girl. ” And he’d waved her off as if it were nothing.

As if this revelation had meant nothing. 

She knew he thought she was stupid. That she couldn’t put two and two together if her life depended on it. Reqhim’s disappearance, his avoiding the topic so thoroughly her questions seemed to fall upon deaf ears at this point. And his threat, just that evening, that if she did not focus on the road ahead and instead on the stars above, he would allow her some solitary time to reflect on her priorities.

Yeah, right. He was going to reduce her world to the room she’d called her own since she could speak until loneliness would leave her promising anything - including to never ask again about places beyond Athenas - to be free of the confines of her jail cell. 

Obedience had come to fit her like a too-large jacket. Taught to listen and never question - to assume that all their kills, all HER kills were justice reigning supreme, were only them enforcing the law... It didn’t seem so simple anymore. Structure was good for the people. So she’d been told. So she’d believed. 

But perhaps it wasn’t structure so much as greed that drove the order. And Maya wasn’t so sure if she wanted to be used as a tool for their ruthless campaigns.

iii.    raise hell  

For a long time, Maya had believed that to be a savior was to be both kind and cruel. To both heal the wounds and wield the blades that gave them.

But things hadn’t been right for some time now. For each step she took in a direction she wanted to go, Sophis and the order pushed her two steps back and every single time, she felt like she was unveiling something she wasn’t supposed to see, supposed to realize. A truth that would benefit her, but not the Order. 

If I am the savior of these people, am I not supposed to know best? She’d asked one day. You said I’m supposed to always try to learn more - about my abilities, about everything. But when I say I want to see other places, learn about other like me, you hold me back. Why? He’d been shaking his head before she was even done speaking. She had so much left to learn, he’d told her. So much more they could give her. And what would the people do, should they learn she’s absent? 

But the thing was, she’d seen how the people looked at her. Oh, there were still a few who showed up to her public appearances. Who still seemed to look at her with reverence. But others didn’t cheer, didn’t cry. No, they just glowered and remained silent. Some, she knew, didn’t even bother showing up anymore. They’d get in trouble for that. Disobedience. Blasphemy. 

Or maybe finally done with the tyranny of the order - her false godhood. She was no god, she thought. She was just a woman. A woman with extraordinary powers, yes. But still just human. And now that she knew - she realized that the Order had always known, too. And had used her in her ignorance. Had manipulated the faith and trust she’d had in the men and women who’d raised her since she was a baby, given away by parents who wanted nothing to do with something they’d never understand. A witch. 

They’d taken that trust and taken that girl and had made her a weapon - with no regards for the human underneath. Greed was ugly and it colored their auras, filled their eyes. They’d given her a name only for it to be a command. A threat. A tool. 

Maya, Maya, Maya.

She’d cut the raw length of her hair off with a pair of scissors she’d nagged from one of the sisters. Had watched the blue strands fall until the ends of her hair tickled her jaw and chin when she moved. She looked older, she’d thought. Sharper. Clearer.

A weight sliding off her shoulders. 

Twenty-seven years of roaming these halls had resulted into her knowing every arch and every doorway, the spots where the lights shone brightest and those where she could slide past unseen. She’d gotten her hands on a gun ( Tediore, heavy and not exactly her favorite, but it’d do ), and different clothes. The silken robes they stuck her into would do no good to her. A hood to cover her hair, a jacket for her tattoos. 

One more time, she thought to herself. She was going to ask him one more time. Even if she already knew the answer Sophis would give her.

There had been confusion on his face - that, and anger, when she entered his rooms without bothering to announce herself. He’d looked up distracted - a book in his hand, his other hand rubbing tired muscles in his neck. Sophis looked old, she thought. Somehow, she only saw it now. The fine lines of his face, the permanent grooves around his mouth. The grey expanding rapidly from his temples to the ends of his hair. 

“ I’m leaving. ”

As if her appearance didn’t give that away. He’d laughed, at first, but when she didn’t budge, he’d grown serious. Moved to his feet. She realized she was taller than him, now. She’d never quite noticed that, either. Sophis had always seemed larger than life. But now he was just a man. " Child, you have so much left to learn. " A statement or a plea, she couldn’t tell the difference. “ Maybe, but I know I don’t want to stay. I told you before - there’s more out there, more that I can learn, things you can’t teach me. Or won’t. ”

She’d rested a hand on the gun at her side, and he finally seemed to notice it. She watched him raise his hands. “ What of your people, Maya? What will they say when their savior, their deity just left them? That they are cursed? All that is holy, taken from their grasp--- ”

“ I’m not holy, ” she said, eyes on him, “ Holy things don’t kill for greed. ” The greed of others, granted, but she’d killed. Part of her had even been fascinated by her ability to do so. Still was, if she had to be honest. “ No - I’m as human as you are, but twice the horror. ” The gun was in her hand, now.

She thought he understood, now. It seemed to dawn on him all of a sudden. Realization, “ Maya --- Maya, you can’t do this - you won’t do this, you--- ” There was only ancient anger in her eyes as she cocked the gun. Aimed.

“ You have no idea what I will do. ”

The next life she took was justified.

[wewillryesagain]

Absent gods and silent tyranny we're going under, hypnotized by another puppeteer.

Show me mercy, can someone rescue me?

[theeternalspace]

Absent Gods 1

I want to wish a really, really happy birthday to the all wonderful @i-will-physically-fight-you. You have been a really good friend to me ever since I was lucky enough to be paired with you all that time ago during a Big Bang.

Since it’s your birthday, I give you this gift. Logan and Virgil angst. I don’t know how many chapters it will be total, but I hope you will stick with me, one and all. Because Logan has some learnin’ to do!

This will have a happy ending. 

Masterpost

Title: Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone

Pairings: None / Platonic LAMP with Logan and Virgil focus.

Characters: Logan, Virgil and The Dragon Witch in this chapter.

Summary: Dr. Logic makes his living working for whichever Super Villain is willing to pay. At the end of the day it is a job where he can put his talents to work.

He certainly isn’t bothered by things like public morality or the definition of good vs evil. He doesn’t have time for things like that, although he accepts that he would be considered a ‘bad guy’. As far as Logan is concerned, it is a small price to pay for the benefits of proper scientific funding. 

But when his latest invention fails and his Boss decides to punish someone else for his mistakes, Logan is forced to reevaluate everything he thought he knew. 

And maybe accidentally make some friends along the way.

Warnings: Morally grey Logan - he doesn’t get it you guys. Threats of torture, angst. General Villainy. Being held captive. If I’ve missed any let me know. 

Previous || Next

~~~

There were many things that Logan didn’t understand about his boss. 

Her almost obsessive need for dramatics was just one of them. Admittedly, right now, it was fairly high up on the list of things he didn’t understand and wished he did. Mostly because right now he was sat in a chair with a ring of fire around it to keep him in place while she prowled backwards and forwards outside. Really, the whole thing was pointless since Logan hadn’t made a single attempt to leave. He saw no need, she had called him in for a meeting and so a meeting they would have. 

There were other things he didn’t understand about her. A lot of them were in some way connected to that dramatic impulse which ran through every action she took. It was as though being a villain intent on overthrowing the current ruling regime and replace it with her own rule wasn’t enough for her. She had to somehow stand out from the rest of the would be dictators and tyrants. Like many of them, she had decided to go dramatic to do so.

Logan was fairly certain that by trying to stand out, she just made herself fade more into the background because it was hard to tell her apart from any other cackling villain giving a monologue about their latest plan. 

Still, as far as super villains went, he had worked for worse. He had spent several particularly unpleasant years stuck as head ‘henchman’ for a particularly inept villain who considered himself a mad scientist even though it had been Logan who had done most of the work. Logan would have quit long ago if it hadn’t been for the awkward fact that he had accidentally agreed to let the man genetically tag him. Logan never made the same mistake twice however and he made doubly sure to read every contract before signing it. 

If it hadn’t been for the heroes eventually shutting him down and one of them wiping the hard drives that contained Logan’s bio-metric passport, he would still be stuck there, more a slave than anything else.

As it was, he had been able to escape in the confusion, quickly getting himself another job with another villain. 

Logan didn’t fool himself. He didn’t consider himself a particularly good person. Then again, he didn’t consider himself a particularly bad one either. He worked for her because the pay was good and because - for the most part - he agreed with her aims should she ever actually manage to take over the world. At this point, he was starting to wonder if she could even manage to take over the city. 

How hard could it be to take over a city? Not that Logan would ever question her on that. He valued his own skin too highly for that and he learnt almost right away that you didn’t insult or question the boss. 

It had led to many bitten cheeks over the years but that was a price Logan was willing to pay rather than being vaporised on the spot. Or worse, agonisingly tortured to death for insolence, like so many of his rather stupid colleagues over the years. 

Sometimes, he wondered why he had never taken the step to become a super villain in his own right. He could probably do a much better job of it that most of his employers. He wouldn’t waste time telling the heroes his plans. He would merely dispose of them and move on.  

Still, if he had done that, then he might never have met - no. Best not to think, to second guess himself in the hypothetical. 

It wouldn’t be death. He wouldn’t kill and that was one of the reasons why he was content to remain as a head scientist or tech in whatever evil organisation he was currently working for. With the aforementioned mad scientist excluded, all his previous evil employers had nothing but positive things to say about him. He had glowing references - in the case of the one from a radioactive villain, quite literally glowing. 

He didn’t particularly want to take over the world. The neat and logical order that would come with him ruling was a tempting prospect but Logan had no desire for all the work that came with it. He would be content with ruling his own little area as promised. 

Right now, however, he was seriously considering handing his notice in. Honestly, he had been considering the concept for a while now, ever since her latest... hire. He didn’t mind working with someone else so long as they either knew their place or could match him in intelligence. They could never do the later but they tended to fall into the former. Or else he convinced her to get rid of them. Logan never really lost much sleep over what ‘got rid of’ could mean in the context of a super villain. It was just part of life and he moved on from it.

But the latest helper had been different. He could almost match Logan in talent. If it wasn’t for the rather unfortunate little fact that he was a prisoner and being held against his will then they would have gotten along splendidly from the start. 

As it stood, it had taken them weeks to get past the rather frosty greetings each shift. The chains and guards probably didn’t help matters but Logan couldn’t understand why he was so opposed to making the best of a bad situation. It didn’t matter that he might not agree with her methods - he was her prisoner and it would be logical to go along with her wishes to save himself further pain.

Virgil hadn’t thought much of that logic. Which had resulted in more beatings that Logan had thought strictly necessary. He needed him intact for their work. 

Eventually, Virgil had settled into some kind of grumpy obedience, enough that they were able to converse - albeit still with a guard present - and make progress on various work orders from the boss. Logan had come to rather admire Virgil’s brain in those weeks and eventually something approaching a friendship had been formed. Enough that Logan could trust Virgil not to stab him in the back. Enough for him to be able to produce some very useful items for his boss. 

Enough to start to give him doubt about if it was... right, to keep Virgil here against his will.

He was safer here. There was little chance of attack because if there was one thing Ms Dragon Witch was good at, it was keeping her secret lairs, well secret. Virgil was the first ‘heroic’ prisoner she had ever brought to her base, and he was never allowed out of the lab or the cell he was kept in next to it. Logan had a horrible suspicion he was sedated whenever she wished to see him so that Virgil couldn’t learn the layout of the base. 

All the better for Virgil. The less he knew, the less danger he was in. The less chance there was that he would think to make an escape attempt - not that Logan thought Virgil was that foolish, he was too smart to risk himself on such a small chance of success. 

There were no fights down here, no chance of being caught in the crossfire. Just food, a roof and the chance to work on his projects. What more could anyone need?

According to Virgil, quite a lot. He wanted to go home, and he didn’t insult Logan’s intelligence by pretending that had changed. He wanted his brother and his other friends, no matter how idiotic he called them. He wanted to not be a prisoner. That last one, at least, Logan could sympathise with. 

But if Logan gave in his notice, there was no way that his Boss, would allow him to take Virgil as a leaving present. He was her prized possession, her trophy and she adored having him brought to her chambers to gloat about whatever recent mission that had gone well. It was all rather inconsiderate of her, since more often than not the two of them had been deep in work when the summons had arrived.

Not to mention how pale and shaken his assistant always was when he was eventually returned to him. Virgil would take hours and sometimes a whole day to recover and get back into the groove of things. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly she showed him. 

More and more, he felt like there had to be something he could do to aid Virgil, but he had yet to come up with a plan that didn’t get them all killed. If only Virgil could be reconciled to his new life. If only his boss would stop tormenting him so Logan could convince him of the merits. If only his friend wasn’t being hurt every day while Logan simple worked on his projects. 

It was a worry in the back of his mind, nothing more. It wasn’t a distraction and he refused to allow himself to be sidetracked by anything. Logan certainly wasn’t using those thoughts as an excuse for what had happened earlier today when Dragon Witches attempted attack on City Hall had been thwarted by the heroes. Her escape had been a close thing, with Logan’s devices barely functioning. Certainly not as he had intended. 

So his invention had failed. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Not even a genius like Logan could claim to have a one hundred percent success rate as much as he might wish otherwise. He was convinced that it wasn’t malicious but merely creator - or more likely user - error. He would improve on them and the same mistake would never happen again. 

The problem seemed to be his bosses increasingly paranoid view of the world. And how she didn’t seem to believe him that it had been an innocent accident. Instead, she had summoned him for this meeting, threw flame around his chair and then started ranting. Accusing him of either sabotaging the devices himself in the hope she would be captured or turning a blind eye to allow Virgil to do it to his work. 

It was insulting to think that he would betray his own values so lightly. He worked hard for his money, he worked hard for his reputation. He wouldn’t sacrifice it for mere sentiment, no matter how increasingly unstable she was becoming. He would simply quit, as he had considered. He certainly wouldn’t allow Virgil to sabotage his work, no matter how uneasy he felt about their partnership because that would be sabotaging everything Logan held dear. 

A shame, he couldn’t help but feel that she failed to see the beauty in those logical thoughts. Or the truth in them. 

She stood a few paces in front of him, having finally stopped her relentless prowling backwards and forwards. Deceptively delicate looking hands rested on her hips as she stared at him over the flames. As always, she was dripping in jewellery, rings on every finger, multiple bracelets and bangles jangling on her wrists with every little motion. Logan had always wanted to point out the fact that she made noises with her jewellery when she moved probably didn’t help her plans to be stealthy.

Once again, a healthy respect for his own skin staying intact had kept him quiet. Just as he kept quiet about the hideous fashion choice that was her ‘uniform’. A tight fitting gold and silver dress with a slit almost up to her waist might be her idea of seductive but as Virgil had once so rightly described her, she looked almost... tacky, than anything else. Coupled with the high heels she insisted on wearing, it certainly wasn’t a practical outfit but he swallowed down the biting comments he wished to say. 

Working for a super villain could be so exhausting sometimes. 

“So you still refuse to admit your guilt Dr. Logic?” 

“I cannot admit to something I didn’t do Ms Dragon Witch.” There was no point in losing his temper even now. She would have to see reason eventually. All he had to do was explain things in smaller words until she eventually understood. He knew he was in the right and given enough time he was confident that he could convince her of that. All Logan had to do was stay alive long enough for her anger to fade and leave her more open to reason. 

“Fine,” she snapped. “You say you didn’t do it, thus logically you have nothing to be worried about it. In which case, I am sure you won’t mind what is about to happen.” One hand lifted into the air, the various bracelets making an all too familiar jingle jangle as they did. She didn’t say or do anything else but he had no doubt that the movement was a recognised signal for something. 

“Why?” Logan asked. He had to ask, he had to know. “What is about to happen?”

She smiled, something cold and empty. The fire that still raged around him seemed to be the only hot thing left in the room. Logan had thought he wanted her to calm down, to stop ranting and raving at him but now that she had done just that, he found her expression... disconcerting in the extreme. She was up to something. Her devious mind had been one of the attractions to accepting the job in the first place but he had never planned to be on the receiving end of her schemes. 

“I am not convinced of your honesty Dr. Logic. I think that little assistant I gave you has been messing with you. Maybe you don’t even realise what he has been doing hmm? Maybe you’re not as smart as you like to think and he’s been tricking you? Maybe you are falling for his poor little me act?” 

She was talking about Virgil, Logan realised with an unpleasant jolt. She was acting as though Virgil was manipulating him, that he was the victim here. 

Logan didn’t doubt that Virgil would take advantage of a situation like that if the opportunity presented itself to him. Virgil was a survivor and you didn’t become one of those by forever following the rules. He wanted to get out of here and back to the place that he called home. Of course he would leap at any chance. That didn’t mean there had been any chance for him to do that. Logan made sure that he wasn’t faced with any such temptation. 

And how dare she think that Logan would be that foolish as to fall for such a thing? Logan might have some latent sympathy for the predicament that Virgil found himself in but there was no way he would be so foolish as to help him. Not like that. Helping like that would only lead to pain. Logan was keen to keep both of them away from that. 

Also, he was just smarter in general than to be fooled by someone trying to sabotage his work behind his back.

“I can assure you that you are incorrect. My work was not tampered with, either by myself or my assistant. Sometimes projects do not work as well as intended. Surely you can appreciate such a fact?” 

It was cutting perilously close to the bone, to make such a comment. To remind her of all her own failures. Logan however, was starting to become a little desperate. He couldn’t decide if the way she ignored him was a good thing or not. Dragon Witch curled some of her dark brown hair between her fingers, twisting it into a tighter and tighter circle as she carried on speaking. Her voice was light, almost musing but no less deadly because of that. 

“Either way I’m going to have to punish him for your failure.”

It was my failure!” Logan protested. He tried to ignore how his heart leapt into his mouth at the sight of the still form of Virgil being dragged into the room. The purple haired man was held by his arms, hanging limply between two of her guards, head bowed. It didn’t comfort Logan to get confirmation of his theory that she kept him unconscious from room to room. Normally, being proved right was a sure fire way to cheer Logan up. It settled and reassured him. 

Seeing Virgil in such a weakened state didn’t do that this time. 

“Ah the guest of honour,” she purred, turning away from Logan, her attention momentarily lost by the new arrival. It gave Logan a chance to shift a little in his seat, trying to get a better view of Virgil. It was hard to tell over the flames but he was confident that Virgil was at least breathing - it remained to be seen if that would actually be a good thing or not. 

Ms Dragon Witch clicked her fingers, pointing towards another chair, set in perfect symmetry to Logan’s own. There was a circle of dust around it, powder that Logan knew could turn to flame at a moment’s notice. How he had failed to notice it before was beyond him, but then again, his attention had been fixed on the danger in front of him. Not the seating arrangements opposite him. 

Virgil was deposited none too gently in the chair, his head still slumped forward on his chest. 

“Finally, time to play. What do you say Dr. Logic? Shall we test some theories?”

“Theories?” Logan repeated back to her, gaze darting between his boss and his assistant. The flames had to be getting to him at last, because he could feel sweat beads springing up along his forehead. “I am a man of science, you know I am always interested in proving or disproving theories.” 

“Excellent! Let’s find out just what happened shall we? And how long it takes for my little toy to scream this time.” 

Her smile was as unsettling as before, sharp and cutting. She threw back her head and laughed, a super villain finally indulging herself to her limit. Logan had seen her in these moods before, but he had never been on the receiving end of one. He had always known better but now, through no fault of his own it appeared as though he was about to get a taste of her at her worst. 

Or was it, Virgil was about to learn just how evil she could actually be? 

For perhaps the first time in his life, Logan finally found something that he didn’t want to know the answer to. 

[mirralegion]

Shuffle tag/Lyrics game

Thank you, @imaginary-existence ❤️

Jimmy eat world - Polaris

Can you tell me

You say that love goes anywhere

In your darkest time, it's just enough to know it's there

Muse - Mercy

Absent gods and silent tyranny

We're going under, hypnotized by another puppeteer

And tell me why the men in cloaks always have to bring me down

Running from the ghosts and shadows the world just disavows

Aqualung - Tongue tied

Though there is so much to say

I'm tongue tied...

Tongue tied

Waiting

Breaking Benjamin - Diary of Jane

There's a fine line, between love and hate and I don't mind

Tori Amos - Winter

Hair is grey and the fires are burning

So many dreams on the shelf

You say I wanted you to be proud of me

I always wanted that myself

Foals - My number

So people of the city

I don’t need your counsel now

And I don’t need your good advice

Cause you don’t have my lover’s touch

Garbage When i grow up

Blood and blisters on my fingers

Chaos rules when we're apart

Watch my temper, I go mental

I'll try to be gentle..

[spiltcandycoatedpunkblood]

mercy // muse

couldn't decide which lyrics worked the best for tintin, so i picked the whole song (there's not a whole lot of verses). free angst, can't stop thinking about this for him

Help me, I've fallen on the inside I tried to change the game I tried to infiltrate, but now I'm losing Men in cloaks always seem to run the show Save me from the Ghosts and shadows before they eat my soul

Mercy Mercy Show me mercy, from the powers that be Show me mercy, can someone rescue me?

Absent gods and silent tyranny We're going under, hypnotized by another puppeteer And tell me why the men in cloaks always have To bring me down Running from the Ghosts and shadows the world just disavows

Mercy Mercy Show me mercy, from the powers that be Show me mercy, can someone rescue me? Show me mercy Show me mercy, please

Help me, I've fallen on the inside And all the men in cloaks trying to devour my soul

Show me mercy from the powers that be Show me mercy from the gutless and mean Show me mercy from the killing machines Show me mercy, can someone rescue me?