#sanders fanfic

[glacierruler]

Letters to a Friend, Historically Speaking

Roman's Letter

Masterpost

This is a fic that will only be available on tumblr, so please reblog

CWs: Injury mention

@oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @cutebisexualmess

Dear Virgil,

My esteemed friend, I just had to write! It wouldn’t have been right of me to keep such magnificent news from you. I am to be promoted to the lead of The Crow King, a most magnificent play that you would no doubt be ecstatic to witness with your magnificent eyes.

Although, I must inform you that I came into this role through an unfortunate accident. I of course had no part to play in such a foul thing to have happened. You remember our dearest friend Janus? He had had the lead role before me of course, well deserved of course. Personally,  I would never accuse the director of having favorites; even if the same person has been cast for the lead roll for over two years. And while this horrible accident was terribly tragic, it has brought me wonderful news that I thought I ought to share.

Sincerely,

Roman Condre

[urlocal-cryptid7]

Say what you want about the sanders sides fandom but god damn do they know how to write fanfiction

[queenshelby]

Playing Doctor

Pairing: Tommy Shelby (Stepfather) x Reader (Stepdaughter)

Warning: DDLG, No-Plot

Requested: YES! P.s. sorry anon it took me so long!

It was your 20th birthday a few weeks ago and your stepfather, Thomas Shelby, whom you have been calling 'daddy' for some time now, insisted on having a little chat with you after everyone else had retired for the night.

Just like every other night, when you walked into his study, you noticed that it was dimly lit, the faintest glow seeping through the heavy oak furniture inside.

"Close the door, and lock it sweetheart," he ordered you as you stepped into the room and you replied with a simple "yes daddy" as you had learnt. 

He sat facing you, the chair groaning softly under his weight, hands folded on his lap. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked the seconds away with a solemnity that filled the room.

"Good girl," he murmured, a hint of a smile flickering on his lips before gesturing for you to have a seat. "Always so well behaved ."

You nodded meekly, suppressing a shiver as his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail of your appearance. 

Thomas Shelby was not an easy man to read. He held the world in a tight grip, his ruthless intelligence driving his criminal empire ever forward.

Beneath that rough exterior, though, a darkness festered, a secret that he took great care to keep hidden. His home was a castle, sealed from the outside world, and inside that castle you were his most prized possession.

"Now sweetheart, do you remember when daddy said that, after you turned twenty, there would come a day where you would have to take care of daddy's needs sometimes?" he asked , eyes searching your face.

You lowered your gaze, nodding nervously, unable to keep your voice from betraying your anxiety when you said, "Yes daddy," not knowing what this would entail.

"Good girl , I knew you'd remember," he replied with a ghost of a smile.  "Now tonight, I think, daddy just wants to play a little game with you. You like games, don't you?"

Thomas said, rising from his chair and approaching you slowly. The tension in the air was palpable as he stood over you.

"Yes daddy," you said, smiling. "What kind of game do you want to play? Do you want to play cards ?" Your question was barely audible, but he heard you nonetheless.

"No sweetheart," he said, running his fingers over your hair, playing with it. His hands then wandered down to your neck, leaving you slightly short of breath. "No cards tonight."

The way his fingers trailed up and down the nape of your neck sent shivers down your spine, making you tremble in your seat. Despite the fear creeping in, you held Thomas' gaze.

"Tonight, daddy wants to play doctor and patient," he explained, his tone softer than ever, lips curling in a smile that sent another chill down your spine.

"Doctor and patient?" You whispered, not entirely certain where he was going with this, but feeling the weight of it settle heavily on your shoulders.

"Yes, darling, you see, there are some things daddy needs to check. Just like a real doctor would," he assured you, eyes gleaming mysteriously in the dim light. "So you will pretend to be the patient, and I will be the doctor. Alright?"

Your heart began to race, your breathing shallow.

"I'm not sure if I know how to do that, daddy," you admitted, swallowing hard.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll show you," he cooed, stepping closer to you until he stood right in front of you. "But first, daddy needs his good little girl to take off her pretty panties." 

You blinked, taken aback. "Right now?" you asked in a small voice, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

He nodded faintly.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up to your feet and reached under your gown to remove the only barrier between him and his exploration. You felt a shiver of embarrassment, even shame, as you dropped them on the floor before stepping out of them.

"That's a good girl," Thomas murmured approvingly, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. "Now remember, darling, we are just playing a game here. Nothing more, nothing less," Thomas reassured, though the words did little to comfort you.

Despite his attempt at being gentle, there was a hint of steel in his eyes that reminded you of who exactly was in charge here. The tension in the air had grown unbearable, the oppressive silence of the room weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"Now I am going to put a towel here, so that we can be clean and comfortable," Thomas told you, pointing to the sofa in the corner of the room. He picked up a towel folded neatly on a cabinet, placing it on the bed. Then he looked at you, giving a reassuring nod before walking towards you.

You stood still, waiting for his instructions. He approached you slowly and met your eyes, his gaze piercing. With a steady hand, he guided you towards the sofa.

"Up on the towel, baby girl," he whispered impatiently. You complied, sitting on the fluffy towel, legs shut tight.

"Lean back and lift your feet up onto the couch. Then let your knees fall apart for daddy," he said. His instructions came out as if he was talking about the most normal thing in the world. 

"But daddy, you will see my private parts," you said, your voice shaky with worry.

"That's the idea sweetheart," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "We need to make sure you are ready down there for daddy to make you a woman."

You shuddered, but slowly lifted your feet onto the couch like he instructed. Then, you let your knees fall apart. You could feel a profound chill in the room, like it was waiting with bated breath for what would come next.

"Good girl," Thomas said soothingly, stroking your hair as he kneeled down in front of you. 

You watched as he placed a bottle of lubricant on the table next to him, along with some tissues.

"Keep your legs open for me, sweetheart," he murmured, gently shifting your legs apart.

"But daddy," you whispered, gripping the edges of the couch, as his hands made their way up your thighs.

"Shh, good girl. Daddy will just have a look inside your little hole now, okay?" He asked gently, his thumb now tracing the outline of your opening cautiously before using two fingers to open your labia.

You couldn't find words. You stared at the books lining his shelves, watching the dust particles glint in the dim light as he opened you up.

"Daddy's girl is so nice and pink inside," he commented, seemingly pleased at the sight of your insides.  "And I can see that you have been a good girl and have not been fooling around with any boys yet, haven't you sweetheart?"

"No, daddy," you replied weakly, glancing away from the intimate scene unfolding before you.

"That's good. Just like you promised me. Good girl," he said in a low voice, before leaning down even closer to you.

"And now daddy's going to put one of his fingers inside your precious little hole, okay?" Thomas murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, he pressed his index finger gently against your opening and pushed it in slowly, making you gasp.

"Shh ," he urged you, his voice soft and low as if he was trying to soothe a frightened kitten. "Daddy's is going to be gentle. Promise."

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to find your voice in the turmoil of your thoughts. The feeling of his rough finger inside your slick warmth was alien, unwelcome, yet not entirely unpleasant.

Thomas's gaze remained fixed on his hand between your legs, and you could see the corners of his lips pull up in a slight smirk. "You're doing great, honey. I'm going to try and move it around a little," he said soothingly, as if trying to encourage a frightened animal.

He gently moved his finger in and out, his thumb pressing against your clitoris.

As uncomfortable as the intrusion was, something changed in you as he explored and touched you. A strange, hot sensation bloomed in your belly and spread downward with each of his movements. You felt yourself growing wetter and tried to squirm away, but Thomas held you steady.

"Shh, sweetheart, don't be scared," he whispered. "This is okay.

This is just a game," you told yourself, trying to convince yourself that the feeling in your body was not real. But the truth was, your bodies had a language of their own and the way Thomas touched you, the way he moved inside you, seemed to speak louder than any words.

"You're a natural, sweetheart," Thomas said, his voice still soothing. You swallowed the painful lump in your throat and nodded, not responding as you listened to the sounds of his finger slipping in and out of your hole.

"I am going to add another finger now, okay sweetheart?" he said, inserting his middle finger beside his index one carefully, stretching our your small opening.

Your body tensed at the sensation, but Thomas kept you calm with soothing words. "Relax, sweetheart. I know it's strange, but you need to relax so I can check everything," Thomas assured you, and you tried your best to oblige.

"It feels funny down there , daddy," you admitted, wincing slightly as his fingers probed deeper.

"That's normal, my sweet girl. You're just not used to it yet," Tommy whispered as he began to move his fingers in and out of you with more conviction. "Your body needs to get accustomed to these new sensations, to daddy's touch."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. But then, you nodded silently, closing your eyes and submitting to his touch. From the way he moved his fingers inside you, you could tell that Tommy was definitely an experienced man, which shouldn't have surprised you.

"Daddy 's fingers are quite big, aren't they?" Tommy said nonchalantly, grinning at the look on your face.

You could only blink at him, feeling an odd sort of excitement mingling with the discomfort. 

Tommy then pulled his fingers out, allowing a trail of wetness to run down your inner thigh and, suddenly, the room was heavy with tension, and he looked at you as if he were about to reveal some great secret.

"Oh look how wet you are

, baby girl. Does that feel good?" He asked in a hushed voice, like it was just between the two of you. 

"I think so daddy. It hurts a little but it feels nice and tingly too," you said as you squirmed under his gaze and the soft tugging of your thighs as he gently separated your legs a little further.

Thomas let out a low chuckle as he unbuckled his belt and began to undo his trousers.  "That's good. That is how it is supposed to feel, sweetheart," he teased, his eyes never leaving your face as he traced the outline of his penis through his briefs.

You swallowed nervously, glancing away from his growing bulge and focusing instead on the faint patterns of the tapestry that graced the wall opposite his massive wooden bed.

" Now, I want you to keep those legs open nice and wide," Thomas told you, his voice a low rumble in the dimly lit room as he pushed his trousers and underwear down to his kneed before kneeling in between your legs.

"Daddy,  I don't know about this," you said in a trembling voice, staring at the slightly curved, swollen head of his penis as he moved closer.

"It's okay sweetheart," Tommy said, smirking as he grasped his manhood and continued to approach you. "It's just another part of the game."

"Daddy is just using his special tool now to open up your little hole as it is supposed to be. That's all," he said, trying to reassure you with a gentle tone.

His manhood glistened in the soft lighting of the room, and you couldn't help but feel a knot of fear twist in your stomach as you watched him slowly guide himself towards your entrance.

"Good girl," he said once more as, finally, you felt the tip of his hardness nestled between your labia . He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the unfamiliar feeling before slowly exhaling and pushing himself inside you just a little.

"Just a little pressure now, sweetheart. I know it hurts your cherry, but daddy will take it nice and slow," Thomas murmured as he inched further inside, drawing hushed gasps from you.

"Daddy 's little princess is doing so well," he reassured softly, with tenderness flickering across his face. With measured thrusts and slow withdraws, Thomas slowly pushed deeper into you.

You bit into your lower lip hard to wrestle back a whimper, gripping the towel beneath you as waves of discomfort danced down your spine. It felt as if your flesh were stretching tight around his shaft, an intimate intrusion that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. 

"I feel really full , daddy," you gasped, your breath hitching as he continued to slowly thrust himself in deeper, your slickness helping to ease his passage.

"I know." Thomas nodded solemnly, placing his hands gently on either side of your hips. "Daddy's special tool is almost all  the way inside you now, darling. It gets comfortable soon, I promise."

You nodded hesitantly, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and intrigue as your body started to adjust. It wasn't exactly painful anymore, more like a heavy kind of fullness that you found difficult to comprehend.

He leaned forward a little and asked, "How are you feeling now princess?"

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to deal with the unfamiliar sensation, before finally managing to stammer, "It's... different, daddy. I feel so full."

Thomas smiled, caressing your cheeks. "That's good , sweetheart. When daddy's inside you, it's just the two of us in our own little world."

He began to move slowly, inching farther inside you while his arms wound around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

"Now daddy will move his special tool around slowly, okay sweetheart?" he asked gently as he readjusted his position and began to rock back and forth.

"Relax and let daddy take control, just like always," he whispered soothingly in your ear, the warmth from his voice making you more at ease than before.

"O-okay daddy," you said softly, trying to keep still and relax the muscles that clenched around him.

Soon, his pace picked up and your breath came in sync with his as he penetrated you with more force, his chest heaving with exertion as he took you.

The familiar scents of leather, tobacco, and aftershave enveloped your senses as he moved deeper into you.

"Daddy isn't hurting you, baby, is he?" he growled out, his rhythm picking up as he lost himself in you.

"No, daddy. It feels . . . weird, but good too," you breathed out, letting go of the last of your reservations.

"Good," he growled out, his rhythm picking up even more rapidly.

"That's my good girl," he said before running his thumb over your clit while thrusting in and out of you.

Your breath hitched, your heartbeat spiked, and the warm sensation in your tummy blossomed once more.

"Daddy," you gasped, the feeling coursing its way through your veins as you tried to stifle your moans.

"Shh, don't worry, sweetheart. Just let it happen," Thomas assured you between breaths.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back, giving yourself over to the tide of pleasure that washed over you.

The room was hazy around the edges, and all you could focus on was the feeling of Thomas's body moving inside you, the slide of his pole in and out of your warm depths.

"Daddy,"  you murmured, unable to form a complete that could possibly convey the maelstrom of emotion and feeling tearing through you when you finally reached your climax.

The waves of pleasure were so immense and so absolutely consuming that even the word "daddy" seemed to fall short.

But for Thomas, "daddy" was the most important word of all. It was his favorite name to hear pour from your lips, and as he felt you tighten, pulse, and shudder around him in the midst of pure unbridled ecstasy, it was as if the walls of his castle had come crumbling down.

"That's my good, good girl," Tommy murmured earnestly, as he continued to thrust into your tight, wet heat, his hands sliding down your slick flesh to caress your curves, trace your shapes, and drink you in.

"Daddy is going to put some special medicine in your little hole now," he groaned, chasing his own climax now. "It will feel nice and warm when it goes in."

The room was seconds away from exploding, and you closed your eyes tightly as Tommy thrust one last time into you, the walls of your sex contracting around him as he stilled completely.

"Here you go. Fuck," he cursed as he released a torrent of  hot fluid into you.

You could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you for a moment. It was an odd sensation, something you couldn't quite put into words. It spread through your body, muddling with the remaining echoes of your own climax.

The look on his face was indescribable. His eyes were half-lidded, lips parted in a silent cry, and the lines of stress on his face seemed to melt away for that brief moment.

He stayed there, motionless, for what felt like an eternity. The heaviness of his limbs atop you was oddly soothing.

Some part of you wanted to hold on to that moment, while another part screamed to be let go.

Thomas leaned in close, his lips brushing your cheek. "I'm going to pull out now, baby," he whispered.

You whimpered softly as he carefully slid himself out of you and felt his warm essence dribble down the insides of your thighs. 

"You're daddy's good girl, aren't you?" he murmured proudly in your ear. "Now lets check if everything went well."

He looked into your eyes as his fingers gently explored your entrance. You shivered slightly at his cold touch, both physically and emotionally as a feeling of shame washed over you. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed that moments earlier, you had welcomed this very same intrusion with pleasure.

Thomas started sliding his fingers in and out softly, observing your reaction. It wasn't long before a slight flush crept up your cheeks. "It looks perfect," he told you. "Just a tiny bit swollen." Thomas approved, smiling warmly as he tucked his fingers away before planting a tender kiss on the tip of your nose.

[scythefandom-youtube]

Roman: staggers into the living room and leans against the wall. "I feel like I have a hangover, but I didn't drink last night."

Virgil: "what if you drank so much, you don't even remember drinking?"

Roman: "that would explain the pain in my leg"

Logan: "that would in fact, not explain any leg pain. If you have pain in your leg, it should really be checked out."

Roman: "ugh fine" rolls up his pant leg to show Logan.

Patton: "oh dear"

Logan: inspecting a bite mark on Romans leg. "This is a rather unusual bite. Half of it is indented in a square pattern typical of herbivores or omnivores. The other is a single fang mark. I can't think of any animal that would leave such a mark."

Virgil: "actually I think we do know one. Personally."

Logan: "Virgil if you believe you have the answer, I would appreciate it if you were to come forward with such information"

Roman: loopily "yeah who?"

Patton: interrupting "don't worry, I got it guys." Proceeds to summons Janus.

Janus: sweating "well hello everyone. What's the occasion?"

Logan: "did you bite Roman?"

Janus: "no"

Roman: "and why is everything turning pink?" Proceeds to fall flat on his face.

Janus: "well I might have thought that Roman would be more tolerable after a nice dose of venom."

Patton: freaking out "remove the venom! Turn him back!"

Virgil: "the antidote is still in the fridge right? It better be! If you removed it I swear to God I'm feeding you to a pit of spiders!"

Janus: smugly "I think Remus has it actually."

Remus: falls through the ceiling carrying a beehive "I gotcha bro! Oh hi everyone, I decided that syringes were a boring way to inject stuff. Have fun!" Smashes beehive on the floor, releasing a swarm of supposedly medical bees.

Everyone else: "AAAAAAAHHHHHH"

[tsspromptmonth]

Cafe Menu Drop!

Hey Babes, we'll be hiring baristas next week starting on the 21st, so watch out for my truly insufferable number of posts about that. On that day we'll post a link so you can send in your application or like whatever.

Now since this is a cafe we figured y'all would want a menu, but like fanfic has so many options so this is just the basics, more will probably come.

Important Deet: Our baristas can't work for free and you pay in comments! Writers are needy bitches who need encouragement. Our hand-crafted stories will run you 1 comment per 100 words, so for a 500 word request, you'll 'pay' in 5 comments on any Sanders Sides story.

The Sleepy Bean Café serves up a range of story sizes: you get to request the size you're craving! The biggest size the machine can handle is a quintuple shot: 5000 words. (That's 50 comments for you big spenders out there!) Sometimes, our baristas are having such a blast mixing up your request that they add a little extra and go over the size of your original request. Consider that a bonus and the managers will look the other way.

Full text under 'read more'

Our baristas think they're creative and might add a little somethin extra from the menu, so if there's anything you just can't stand, better tell us up front.

And for all you barista hopefuls, six days til the hiring process begins. I'm gonna need a lot of bitches to make all these drinks.

~Remy XX

Sleepy Bean Fanfic Cafe Menu

More options available by request.

Drinks (Setting or AU)

Brewed Coffee = Canon Verse Steamed Milk = Soulmates Latte = Human AU Hot Chocolate = Parental AU Herbal Tea = Magic AU (Modern day or fantasy) Machiatto = Time Travel Cappuccino = Gods AU Green Tea = Merpeople

Milk (Tone)

Skim = Hurt/No comfort 2% Milk = Hurt/Comfort Heavy Cream = Fluff Oat Milk = Ambiguous ending Coconut = Crack taken seriously Olive Oil = Crack

Syrup (Characters)

Starfruit = Janus Loganberry = Logan Peach = Patton Kiwi = Remus Cherry = Roman Cranberry = Virgil

Toppings (Tropes)

Whipped cream = Only one Bed Caramel drizzle = Childhood Best Friends Chocolate sauce = Fake Dating/Marriage Chopped nuts = Arranged Marriage Burnt sugar = Time Loop Chocolate Shavings = Mutual Pining Honey = Sick Fic Cinnamon = Enemies to Lovers Nutmeg = Love after Loss Blended = Found Family

All drinks are 1 comment per 100 words with a 500 word minimum.

Specials

The Serpent God

A cappuccino with 2% milk, starfruit, and crushed raspberries. (Gods AU, hurt/comfort, featuring Janus, and hiding a fatal injury.)

Space Jam

A boba with starfruit, kiwi & Loganberry jellies, blended with honey. (Space AU with Janus, Remus, & Logan, found family sick fic.)

Peach Berry Sweet Treat

Peach/Loganberry Cobbler Latte, with ginger cookie crumbles. (Human AU, only one of them knows they are dating with romantic Logicality.)

Melting Clocks Crumble

A macchiato with burnt sugar topped with whipped cream. (A time travel AU with only one bed, time loops and a choice of characters.)

Lost in Space

Boba tea with steamed skim milk, kiwi/peach boba. (Soulmate Space AU, romantic Intruality, hurt no comfort.)

Winter's Comfort

A mocha with 2% milk, topped with caramel drizzle, nutmeg, and chocolate shavings, syrup to taste. (Parental human AU, hurt/comfort, childhood best friends, mutual pining, and love after loss, any characters.)

A Classic

Herbal tea, with 2% steamed milk. (Human magic AU, hurt/comfort, any characters.)

Cinnamon Sunrise

Steamed milk with cinnamon. (Human AU, with enemies to lovers. Your choice of characters, tone, and tropes.)

[delimeful]

how easy you are to need (redux) (7)

warnings: misunderstandings, feeling trapped, unhealthy thoughts about an assumed situation, death and injury mention, discussion of debts, unreliable narrator, virgil horribly misinterpreting yet another normal conversation, literally embarrassing levels of thick-headedness

-

Letting his guard down around the humans was far, far easier than it should have been.

He still eased his defenses down slowly, bit by bit, of course, he wasn’t a complete fool. An understanding between him and Patton didn’t necessarily mean that the others felt the same.

They were humans, not shifters, after all, and while he could see the shape of a pack in their closeness, that didn’t mean he could assume the same principles would apply. They all took on equal responsibilities in maintaining and protecting their home, and none of the three had shown any particular indication that they were a designated envoy, meant to speak for the entire pack.

Frankly, with it only being the three of them, a lack of envoy wouldn’t have been too surprising even if they had been shifters. Some smaller packs forewent assigned roles, rotating them as needed, or were close-knit enough that they essentially acted as one whole, any individual able to speak for the pack.

The humans loved to bicker, though, and it would have been like a slap in the face to trust in Patton’s promise and then have them argue about it right in front of him. Instead, Virgil tested the firmness of the new ground he’d been offered with slow, tentative steps, like a deer crossing over a frozen lake. Better to take his time and test the ice than plunge right through.

Irritatingly, the humans made it far too easy for him to forget how precarious his standing was.

Even the simplest of interactions seemed to please them. When he’d responded to Patton’s friendly greeting for the first time, the morning after their midnight conversation, the human’s expression had lit up like a lightning bug at dusk. When he’d finally answered one of Logan’s questions during a meal, the scholar had blinked a few times in quiet surprise before smiling in a way that made his entire face look softer. When he’d pursed his lips and snapped out a sharp retort to something annoying Roman had said, the hunter hadn’t hesitated to needle him right back with friendly delight, the same as he did with the other two.

They were keeping him trapped here, because they were human and they knew better than to let a monster roam free in the woods around their home, but they didn’t want a starved prisoner or a ticket to easy riches. They wanted to offer him comfort and belonging in the time that he had left.

He’d saved them, and they were repaying it in the only way they could afford to.

It was pathetic, how relieved he felt. How genuinely grateful he was for the simple fact that he wasn’t being forced to relive the unending torment of his first imprisonment. How such basic offerings of food and warmth and companionship made it possible to ignore or even briefly forget about the executioner’s axe hoisted over his head.

He’d been on his own for a long time. Returning to that solitude would be its own kind of death, a slow and painful relearning of what it meant to be alone. He knew this, but tried not to dwell on it. He’d survived it once before, and he would again. Better to endure the loneliness than lose the safety of isolation.

So, he forced himself to keep focusing on methods of escape, on the ways this slowly-growing camaraderie would offer lapses in security, on the new freedoms he could take advantage of, and didn’t think about what he would do afterwards.

With this goal in mind, he immediately decided to test his luck by poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

He’d regained some mobility after another week of healing, though he kept his walking pace to a slow shuffle out of caution, and the humans still tended to hover like agitated honeybees whenever he was on his feet for too long. The cabin was small enough that he had mapped out most of it within a day or two, and now he approached the only room he hadn’t yet entered or peered into.

When he pushed the door of Logan’s workspace open, the human’s head snapped up immediately, wearing the beginnings of a frown. Once he saw that it was Virgil who stood in the doorway, though, the displeased turn of his lips faded away, replaced by eyebrows raised in intrigue.

��Hello,” he said, voice polite despite the interruption. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Of the three of them, Logan had been the most respectful in his formality, and so Virgil impulsively tested the bounds of that patience by not answering right away, instead letting his gaze drift over the room and its contents.

There were far more plants scattered about than he’d expected, though perhaps he should have expected as much from the dedication Logan tended his garden with. Pots of different shapes and sizes were settled on every inch of the window ledges, and planters hung from shelves and hooks on the ceiling alike. There was an entire corner of the room dedicated to racks of drying herbs and flowers, both wild and homegrown, which lent the room a pleasant dusty floral smell that almost covered up the sting of ink and chemicals.

There was a table against one wall, the shelves around it packed full with bottles of miscellaneous ingredients, all of them labeled in neat handwriting. The table itself was covered in neatly-organized supplies, with protective sigils carefully carved into the outer edge of the wood, keeping any experimentation contained. It stank less than he’d thought it would, for human magecraft, but then he hadn’t yet seen Logan doing any of the typical dissection and harvesting of supernatural creatures, either.

After the full moon, it would have the bitter tang of magic made through unwilling sacrifice, the distant preserved rot of bottled blood. Virgil would recognize the stench of post-harvest ingredients anywhere. Not that he’d be there to smell it, at that point. He forcibly pulled his attention away.

The last section of the room was less orderly than the rest, primarily due to the heaps of books that were stacked and shoved wherever there was space. Logan’s desk was the only semi-clear spot, and even that had a few precarious book towers sitting atop or alongside it. It was also covered in stacks of parchment, with lines and lines of writing or intricate diagrams sketched on the paper.

Logan sat behind it, still awaiting a response, those keen eyes watching him right back.

There was no sign of the lodestone for the ward around the cabin at first glance. He had known better than to think it would be that easy, though.

He hadn’t known that he would actually get this far, assuming that they wouldn’t want their magic prisoner sticking his nose in the most likely place to find a way out of their wards. Even Roman and Patton didn’t tend to disturb Logan too often when he was working in this space, so he’d assumed he’d only get a few moments to glance around at best.

“You haven’t been to the leyline crossing,” he said, because the silence had begun to grow awkward and he’d panicked and they really hadn’t, even though it was well past the usual time of the month they went.

Logan’s stare sharpened, which was probably a bad sign, but he only stood up to clear the books off of a second chair, and gestured for him to sit.

This had been a bad idea. Virgil slunk forward with extreme reluctance and sat.

“We haven’t,” Logan answered affirmatively as he returned to his seat, adjusting his spectacles. “It didn’t seem wise to venture into the woods, seeing as that is where the bear headed, last we saw it.”

That was… a really good reason, actually. Virgil shuddered at even the idea of them running into that creature again in the dead of night, without him to help.

“I take it that you’ve been familiar with us for a while, then, since you know of our routine offerings?” Logan continued, sounding more curious than angry.

Virgil froze up, regardless. He should have known better than to hope he could make it through a conversation without giving anything away. He hadn’t even managed to make it through the first sentence.

“I am not upset,” Logan offered, glancing down at the open book before him in a gesture that seemed designed to give Virgil a moment to breathe. “On the contrary, I am… rather relieved, to have my suspicions confirmed.”

“Relieved?” Virgil echoed dubiously, his voice a low croak. It tended to go raspy and hoarse if he wasn’t focusing on speaking, probably the result of not using his human vocal cords to speak to anyone in literal years.

“Indeed,” Logan answered. “I will admit, my initial impression of you was made hastily. We had never seen you before, and yet you didn’t hesitate to defend us, and you earned a significant injury in the process. It was worrying to unexpectedly incur such a debt.”

Virgil managed to shove aside his embarrassment in favor of confusion. It was strange to mention a debt, especially one owed to a shifter. Humans didn’t consider shifters worth trading with in any fashion, in his experience, and even other supernatural beings knew that wolves weren’t fond of holding debts or grudges. Really, the way Logan spoke about it sounded more like…

“You see, I was aware that it is rather rare for a shifter to reveal themself to humans for any length of time, as I’m sure you know, and I was also aware that the fair folk are often deft hands at taking on wild shapes of their own, particularly when interacting with humans, so…” Logan trailed off, looking a bit flustered at the admission.

“You thought I was fae,” Virgil completed the thought, feeling a bit taken aback at the idea. He certainly would have done a fair bit more against that bear if he’d had the sort of natural power that faeries so often courted.

Of course, things also would have turned out a lot worse for the humans if he’d been a fae, more likely than not. Humans who had fallen under the attention of one of the fair folk frequently met an unfortunate end because of it. Whether the faery in question was maliciously fixated or lovingly obsessed, the human would be lucky to come out irrevocably changed. They’d be lucky to come out alive at all.

“It was a working hypothesis,” Logan said primly, turning a page in his book despite the fact that he almost definitely hadn’t been reading while they spoke. “It was disproven easily enough, and so my precautions weren’t needed in the first place, but seeing as my haste has gotten me and those around me in trouble before, I thought it best to perform them anyhow.”

Precautions? Patton had said that Virgil saved his life, if not all of theirs. To the fae, a life debt like that could only be paid off one way, whether they’d been tricked into it or not.

Oh. He had wondered why Logan had been so uncharacteristically careless before, carrying an agitated and injured shifter back with its teeth only a handspan from his neck. If Virgil had been fae, if he’d chosen differently and torn out Logan’s throat, that would have been the end of any debt between him and the others. A life paid for a life owed.

“Did you run that plan by the others, first?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer.

Logan waved a hand dismissively, not bothering to pretend at regret. “They traveled out here on my behalf, in the first place. To let them suffer for my mistakes would be a poor repayment.”

From what he knew of them, Virgil thought Patton and Roman would disagree. Loudly.

“…Right,” said Virgil, in his most dubious tone. “On your behalf?”

“I’m cursed,” Logan explained shortly. “I don’t have the constitution required to perform magework without damaging my health. It was intended to make me choose between my health and my passion, but I was willing to give up neither, and found a third option: proximity to powerful natural magic, which would prevent spellwork from being as taxing.”

“Huh.” It was a clever solution. Logan might have been the one to propose their solution to Virgil, too. Offering a shifter a peaceful last few weeks certainly wasn’t an option he would have expected from any normal humans.

Right. He’d almost forgotten that his plan had been to push against the boundaries of his cage, to force them to acknowledge that he was stuck here, to remind himself that no amount of kind company was worth the pain of how this month would inevitably end.

“Well, you don’t owe me anything,” he said, a little too sharply. “And in that case, there’s no point in me staying.”

Logan sat up straight, posture stiffening as he frowned. “You’re still far from healed. I understand why you don’t wish to shift, but surely, leaving is a bad idea for the same reason?”

There it was. In the end, that was the biggest flaw in the arrangement the humans had come up with. If Virgil attacked them or tried to leave, they’d be forced to kill him immediately. He would lose, but so would they; killing him in his human form would make his corpse far, far less valuable.

“You’re only making things more difficult on yourself,” Virgil told him, crossing his arms as tightly as he could without jarring his wound. “I’m not fae. There’s no worth in being hospitable to me.”

It certainly wasn’t going to convince him to stop trying to escape. He might be pathetic, but he wasn’t that pathetic. Honestly, it’d probably be easier for everyone if they just cut their losses and killed him now.

Logan closed his book, folded his hands over it, and met Virgil’s eyes squarely. “We offered you our hospitality because we wanted to. It is freely given, no matter the ease or difficulty involved.”

Virgil couldn’t help the way his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. That implied that they would keep on offering him this kindness even if he did get caught attempting to escape.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t ever been truly punished for that first desperate sprint to the wards, had he? None of the things he’d believed to be threats or punishments had ever panned out the way he’d assumed. Ultimately, they hadn’t so much as directly scolded him about the escape attempt, as though the act was hardly surprising. He hadn’t been drugged, and he still wasn’t guarded.

He couldn’t be certain unless he got caught again, but… the signs were all there. They were confident enough in their cage to indulge him even when he was caught gnawing at the bars. They were underestimating him.

“Don’t blame me if you regret it later,” he said dismissively, but he couldn’t help the disbelieving half smile creeping onto his lips.

Logan returned his smile with an encouraging one of his own, apparently unfazed by Virgil’s renewed determination. “I very much doubt I will.”

He snorted and left the human to his work, not cowed at all by the arrogance. Logan could doubt all he liked. Virgil had beaten much worse odds before.

[elliehase-blog]

We're simply meant to be

I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.

~*~

In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.

»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«

There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.

Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.

»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.

After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«

So maybe it is a date after all.

Perhaps.

(It’s certainly not.)

For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?

But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.

How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.

In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.

He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'

Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.

Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.

»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«

Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.

»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«

Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.

»Pleeeaaase!«

Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.

»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.

»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.

[skeletinmoss]

Storm dove

Chapter 11: Family

First chapter | Previous | Next

We're back, baby!

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Abducted by smugglers, Patton finds himself stuck in a cell with one of the most famous and bloodthirsty kind of deathworlders out there, a Human.

Author: @delimeful

[dndeceit]

I feel like there's a fic in this, with Remus as the Doctor and Logan as the Creature.

@intrulogicalweek

[prodigal-explorer]

sanders sides controversial opinions poll!

hi, guys! i've been in the sanders sides fandom for a few years now, and i've been really curious about where the majority of fans stand in terms of the most hot topics in the fandom right now. i made a nice little google form, and i'd love it if you guys filled it out with your opinions, anonymously, of course! there are no wrong answers, it's just opinions, and i want to know the real information, so don't worry about getting flamed or hated on because that's not going to happen!

also please reblog or send to your fander friends! i want this to reach as many interested people as possible!!

[transacewithapan]

When someone recognizes your old and cringey writing:

P A N I K

[rainy-day-revelry]

For all my Fairy!Hyrule lovers who also appreciate a bit of angst, may I remind you:

Faefolk hate the color red as it reminds them of iron filled blood, including red berries. Mayhaps they hurt to eat just like iron hurts to touch?

You can break fae magic by turning your clothing inside out. I’ve seen this shown as the fae being unable to see you, or in some cases unable to perceive your presence at all

Several plants are thought to repel fae, such as boxwood or rowan, but you could really use any plant for this purpose. I see daisies used a lot.

Fae can’t lie, only dance around the topic. Can Rulie?

As mentioned, iron hurts fae. You know what most armor contains at least a little of?

Dancing with a fae often leaves you trapped dancing forever until you die of exhaustion or your magical captor frees you. Rulie doesn’t have much experience with his fae powers, or with dancing. Would he know how?

Pretty please, run wild. Give me more full-fae Rulie, and give me consequences for that

[the-bisexual-bitch]

I need more analogical in the headspace. I don't want AUs, I want my two Little Autistic Guys shoved together in the brainspace because Virgil is having a Bad Time and none of the more 'emotional' sides are available (they were helping Thomas or something), so Logan helps. Or Virgil just SPECIFICALLY wants to be around Logan.

I need more of them being specifically described in the brainspace and looking different from Thomas. I need more of them being mildly upset that they don't look like themselves when they're helping Thomas.

I need more of the darksides and lightsides being basically two weird semi-funtional poly relationships.

I need more of Virgil having been in an unhealthy relationship with one of the Darksides and thinking he got away from them

I need more of Janus actually biting people and having venom.

I need more angst around Virgil feeling like he's a poser who's actually Bad and undeserving of the care given to by the Lightsides

I need more of Virgil not liking the phrases "Darkside" and "Lightside"

I need more of Virgil feeling infantilized by Patton and Patton struggling to get it

I need more long essays written about One Line to read and be convinced by.

(Please recommend fics, artists, tumblr accounts, etc.. I'm begging you.)

[theprinxietycompendium]

Prinxiety Fic Recs!

Hello everyone!!!

Here is the form to submit fics for my Prinxiety Fic Rec list!! Feel free to submit ANY Prinxiety fics, including NSFW fics (which will be put in a seperate section/list from the rest). You're welcome to recommend your own fics or anyone else! Just fill out the form here :D

The recommendations will be anonymous on the form and the list, so even I wont know who submitted what!

[tsspromptmonth]

Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café Pre-Orders Open 10/30!

Hey, Babes, get those comments going and your orders ready! The Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café is opening for pre-orders on Wednesday, October 30th.

We'll accept orders from Oct. 30th - Nov. 30th. Starting today send your Asks with your requested drink and screenshots of you comments!

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