#sanders sides reverse bang

[diamondwind99]

Here's my entry for this year's Reverse Bang Event (@xts-reverse-bangx)!! Special thanks to my epic writing partner @onthevirgeofdestruction for the wonderfully amazing accompanying story!!!

Image ID: A vertically mirrored image of Roman from Sanders Sides is depicted in stained glass, bordered by red phoenixes. Across the center, cracked glass breaks underneath (and above) Roman. On the top half, Roman is depicted in his usual color scheme and prince outfit, with the addition of a red cape and golden crown with red jewels. Roman stabs into the glass with his sword, where the break radiates out. On the bottom half, Roman is in a dark version of the same outfit, the white turned to black, and the reds in darker hues.

[thebonesnacher]

Sander sides reverse bang Art!! Check out @lost-in-thought-20 for an amazing fic about about it :3 working with them was great and I loved seeing their take on things.

“Aw  is someone trying to get rid of me~”

“It Hass to work this time.”

[kieraelieson]

I wonder, do I have any Sanders Sides Artist friends that would want to do a thing?

Wanna make a new art, especially if you have any ideas within genres I tend to write, and I’ll write a story around your art? 👀 I could probably pull 3k-5k words out of an art, more if it particularly inspires me~

If you wanna do this, let me know!

[edupunkn00b]

The Vulture, Chapter 3: The Star

Photo of a vulture sitting on a dead tree branch by Abhishek Singh via Unsplash, colored by edupunkn00b

Prev - The Star - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 1082 - Rated: T - CW: A little Remus-y imagery - The Hermit leads Death—and the Musician—to see the Star for his help. Elsewhere in the Mindscape, Remus seeks out Patton's help to heal Roman. -

“Death,” the Star whispered, his soft smile far more reassuring than it should have been. “I’m surprised to see you here.” Arm outstretched, he offered his hand. For Death to shake or to kiss or…

Bones bowed her head and nuzzled against the golden skin of the Star’s open palm. The Star laughed at the horse’s gentle huff, lightning through dried grass. “What do you bear?” he asked. Though he stroked Bones’ muzzle, his eyes were fixed on Death and the bundle in his arms.

“The Musician is hurt,” he said. “Badly.” Death sat a little taller on his mount and returned his gaze. He ignored the Vulture’s scream from the North and met the Star’s eyes. “Will you help him?”

After one last pat to Bones’ nose, the Star’s smile faded and he moved to Death’s side. He tugged at the cloak. Death’s hand snapped out, bones clacking as he gripped the Star’s wrist. “Be careful,” he murmured. “Wounds like that are…”  He tilted his head, the memory of a thousand thousand mortal injuries flooding his mind. “Painful.”

The Star nodded slowly and his smile crept back, tighter this time. “I will be gentle.” Eyebrows stitched together, he winced in sympathy as he peeled back the blood-soaked cloak and the first layers of the Musician’s robes. “Come,” he murmured.

In a swirl of golden light, the glade spun around them. The lights faded and the Musician lay stretched out over a bed of thick clover and moss. Death knelt beside him. 

“You must inform the Hierophant. He will want to be here.” The Star spoke quietly to the Hermit, barely audible over the burble of the spring beside them. “The only one more beloved in the Kingdom is King Thomas himself.”

The Hermit nodded and pulled his hood lower over his eyes. “You can count on me.”

“I know,” the Star replied and then the Hermit was gone. Turning now to Death, the Star pressed his hands together in front of his heart as if in prayer. He closed his eyes for several breaths. When he opened them, a small copper vessel sat between his palms. “Help him sit up.”

Death did as instructed, cradling the Musician in his lap, limp head lolled against his chest. He watched as the Star dipped the mouth of the vessel into the spring, slowly filling it with clean, clear water.

“Is it dangerous?” he asked. It did not escape Death’s notice that the Star did not allow even a drop of the water to touch his bare skin.

The Star smiled and brought the vessel closer to the pair. “Not for him,” he said, humming approval when the Musician parted his lips and let a trickle of water wet his mouth. Color bloomed from the point of contact, the waxen, almost yellow-ish cast to his skin warming and softening in waves.

“It’s working,” Death whispered, strengthening his grip when the Musician stirred then slumped back against him.

“A bit, yes,” the Star replied, tipping the last of the water into the Musician’s mouth before moving to refill the vessel. 

A single drop slid down the curved bottom and splashed on Death’s hand.

It burned. Like fire, it spread over the back of his hand, pale skin growing and stretching over the bones. A cry rose up at the back of his throat, stifled behind teeth clamped shut. His whole arm shook where it looped around the Musician's middle, keeping him upright, but he would not let go.

“It’s restorative,” the Star frowned and returned with the vessel, freshly filled. “Though its effect on you should fade with time.”

Looking down at the small patch of skin and sinew stretched over the bones between his wrist and his knuckles, Death nodded. “All things do.”

The Musician had finished half the second treatment when a low voice slithered from the shadows behind them. “What an unlikely pair.”

~

“Lay him down on the bed,” Patton swept his arm over the pillows, shoving aside the pile of stuffed animals arranged against his headboard. “Quick!” he urged when Remus hesitated at the threshold to his room.

Bathed in a soft golden light that seemed to come from everywhere at once, the pictures lining Patton's walls moved, the figures pointing and laughing as Remus stood frozen on the spot. The last time he's been in Patton’s room he'd been the one laughing. 

Now he was stuck, Roman growing heavier in his arms. Heavier and lighter, his breathing slowing as hot, sticky blood seeped through both their tunics, wetting Remus’ skin. The memory of a thousand battles in the Imagination, a thousand wounds and broken limbs pushed through. Sometimes they fought together. Sometimes they fought together.  Blade and claw, thorns and rocks. Tooth and fist. 

Blood. Always there was blood. 

Lungs seized, he gripped Roman’s tunic tighter, fingers tangled in the heavy cotton, slipping and sliding as his blood gushed over both of them, pooling on Patton’s floor. The blood like flood waters, reaching his ankles, then his knees and thighs, splashing, wading—

“Re?” Patton was beside him, one hand at his back, the other curled carefully around the shaking grip on his brother. “Lay Ro down on the bed. Let’s get a good look at him.“

The pictures on the walls had quieted, shifting into new scenes. There was one of him and Ro painting a new space mural on Logan's ceiling. Sparkling white paint dusted Ro’s face and Remus had a giant smudge of shimmery blue along his cheek. 

Another picture was of him and Patton smiling for the camera, together presenting two beautifully browned loaves of fresh bread. He could still taste the yeast popping on his tongue from when he’d shoved a spoonful of it in his mouth faster than Patton could stop him.

With Patton’s warm hand at his back, Remus found he could breathe again. He nodded and slowly lowered Roman onto the bed. Fairy lights twinkled around them and, for a moment, Remus thought Roman could’ve been sleeping peacefully. Outside of the grasp of his memories, Remus could now see that Roman’s bleeding had nearly stopped and the edges of his wounds were beginning to close.

“He’s gonna be fine, Kiddo,” Patton nodded, squeezing Remus’ hand, grip sticky with Roman’s drying blood. “Nothing to worry about now.”

“Now, now, Morality…” Janus purred from the corner. Remus didn’t know how long he’d been there. Long enough, he supposed. “I thought lying was a sin.”

[creative-lampd-liberties]

Fandom:Sanders Sides

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Prinxiety

Warnings: Canon typical violence and language

This is the first chapter of my Fic for the @xts-reverse-bangx . It was based off of this incredible artwork by @prince-rowan-of-the-forest , which is stunning and really inspirational. I hope you enjoy

[edupunkn00b]

@sanderssidesfanfiction's art really stretched my imagination for this story. I hope you all like it!

My submission for the @xts-reverse-bangx! @edupunkn00b wrote an absolutely lovely story to go along with it, you should go check it out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I have!

[Image IDs: Remus in his standard costume on the Death Rider-Waite Tarot Card

Patton in his standard costume on the Star Rider-Waite Tarot Card

Roman in his standard costume on the Magician Rider-Waite Tarot Card

Deceit in his standard costume on the Heirophant Rider-Waite Tarot Card

Logan in his standard costume on the Justice Rider-Waite Tarot Card

Virgil in his standard costume on the Hermit Rider-Waite Tarot Card]

[zombiesandbells]

I don't want to be friends

Woo! Here's my second piece for the Sanders Sides big bang hosted by @sandersidesbigbang !

This is for the fic The Reverse Shakespearean Experience written by @thefuzzzz ! Super fluffy and wholesome fic that'll make ya feel warm inside !

ID by @glacierruler

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Shatter the Glass

I was paired up with @diamondwind99 for the @xts-reverse-bangx! I picked up this as a backup writer, but I went ham all the same! (Special Thanks to @spiritwell-sides-i-guess for beta-reading!)

Setting: Sanders Sides Canonverse side-story type situation Characters: All canon sides & c!Thomas Shipping: None Word Count: 11,014 (22 Pages) Rating: Teen Warnings: Standard for Sanders Sides, mostly. Mild Dirty Humour, Violence, discussion of eating things that shouldn't be eaten. Standard "Remus Being Remus", as well. Heavy Depression is Depicted as well. Tags: Mild Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Roman is Incapable of letting Other Sides finish a sentence, Bratty Creativities, Catty Janus, Someone give Logan a hug, Patton is trying really hard, C!Thomas is too but depression flavoured

You can see the art that inspired the piece here:

The first thing he could see in the darkness was the colorful lights shimmering on the floor, like a smattering of each colour on a messy painting palette. Roman blinked twice, looking up to find the source of the rainbow refraction, scanning the darkness for any sign of the light. Looking high up, a stained glass window suspended in the darkness. He half-wondered if he was picking his class in Kingdom Hearts before he processed what the colourful blocks of glass depicted, and then his heart stopped.

He would have thought it was Remus at first. The black clothes, the sinister expression, those things reeked of Remus. But the red sash and jewels on the crown made it clear—it was Roman. Creativity, passion, even ego, all gone dark. The room darkened as Roman cried out in confusion, a strangled noise of loss echoing in the empty chamber. The stained glass cracked at the soldered seams, light breaking through into a blinding flash blasted out as the window shattered completely.

Roman gasped, his eyes opening up to the familiar sight of Thomas’s living room across the dining table. He blinked a few times, looking down at his hands. He grasped them a few times and looked around the room. Thomas blearily picked at a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, scanning his phone as Logan harped on him to review the schedule. Virgil sat on the top of the fridge, chewing his thumbnail and Patton begged him to come down. A very normal morning. Was that a daydream? Or some kind of nightmare? Roman wasn’t sure.

“He always does this, Patton, there’s no point. He must like it up there,” Roman pointed out into the kitchen, and Patton turned to look at Roman. 

Patton smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head. “Oh, ah, Roman. Well, I still want him to sit at the table like a family.” Virgil pulled up his legs and looked away. “Aw, Virge, don’t be like that!” Patton knocked on the fridge, but Virgil just ignored him.

Roman sighed and ran his hand through his hair, glancing at Thomas struggling through his oatmeal another time. He didn’t seem to notice Roman. That was a motif, lately. Logan didn’t look up either, too focused on trying to get Thomas’ attention. Patton was back to ignoring him, pleading with Virgil to come down. Virgil just pulled up his hood and put on a pair of headphones. Virgil didn’t even have to be here. It was just breakfast. What was Thomas even worried about? 

“Patton, wh—”

“Virgil, that’s not good for the fridge,” Patton insisted.

“He doesn’t weigh anything, Patton. He is imaginary,” Logan reminded Patton with a weary tone, putting down his clipboard on the table with a clatter. “Thomas, there is nothing wrong with your food, and it is getting cold. You are going to fall behind schedule if you keep procrastinating like this.”

“Logan, please,” Thomas pleaded desperately, causing every side to look at him. “… I just need a minute.” Thomas just slumped further, holding his head down on the table. The oatmeal spoon was knocked out, leaving a mushy trail on the table where it fell.

Ah, well, that’s what Virgil was doing here. Would have been nice to have someone tell Roman that, but it seemed he was just in the way here. He didn’t tarry any longer, just sinking out on the spot. He knew when he wasn’t wanted, unlike some sides. Roman didn’t bother showing up the rest of the day. If they couldn’t appreciate his greatness, they didn’t deserve his presence anyway.

—

If Roman knew he’d be stepping directly into a minefield, he wouldn’t have tried to come out today. When Roman rose up to suggest an idea to Thomas more directly, he caught Patton’s eye. Patton looked stressed, a weak smile and shooting his eyes over next to him where Janus stood and mouthed ‘leave’. But it was too late, Janus caught the cartoonish gestures and turned from talking to Patton to see Roman standing there.

“Oh, you again. You know, as much as I love to see you, I think we’d all be better off if you and your ‘sense of humour’ took a little break, hm?” Janus suggested, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. Patton sighed heavily, looking conflicted.

“I wasn’t here to make jokes, Janus. Thomas wasn’t paying attention to me,” Roman stated in annoyance, fixing his hair with a sweep of his hand.

“Probably because he already has plenty of creative suggestions at the moment,” Janus said haughtily, flicking his gloved fingers over to the couch, where Thomas sat with his head in his arms, a TV show going on ignored in the background. Remus was sitting there rambling off things in an animated fashion that talked through a shadowy figure in front of Thomas, crouching on the top part of the couch like a gargoyle over Thomas’ left shoulder. The debris of one of his insidious (and overcomplicated) traps lay all over the living room floor and across the back of the couch.

Roman bristled and clenched his fists. “I assure you, my suggestions would be leagues better than his,” he shot defensively, motioning widely over to Remus who just ignored him as he continued to prattle off horrible, disgusting things as usual.

“Buddy, I think I’d prefer to hear what you had to say, too, but it’s more fair if we listen to everyone, isn’t it?” Patton said weakly, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater.

“Nobody has even heard what I have to say yet, how is that fair?” Roman insisted, stamping his foot.

Patton almost looked hopeful for a moment, but Janus’ sharp tongue sliced that away in an instant. “I’m sure we’ve all heard enough of you. I’m sure I have,” Janus scoffed, turning away from Roman to face Patton directly. Patton looked like he was about to object, but bit his lip, looking between Janus and Roman.

“I mean, Remus will be done soon… Right?” Patton said warily, holding up a finger just for it to sag as he watched the gross green gargoyle gallivant over the top of the couch, just out of sight of Thomas.

Roman recoiled at the idea, then again at Remus who was now topping his arm with deodorant to eat. “There is no way that those suggestions are anything worthwhile,” Roman insisted firmly, but nobody reacted to his loud frustration.

“Hm? Did you hear something, Patton? Anyway, as I was saying, a little sunlight does wonders. Perhaps a little sunbathing,” Janus said airily, twisting his hand in the air. Clearly he was not wanted. Once again. Roman groaned, his head suddenly hurting horribly. He sank out, feeling the blood pounding under his fingertips as he held his skull.

Roman’s hand nudged something on his head that was not there earlier, which he rubbed in surprise. It was hard and solid. He created a hand mirror and pulled back his hair to check what was hiding in his perfectly styled hair. A sharp white horn was sticking out of his skull. Roman panicked, shifting his head to check the other side. There was a horn sticking out there as well. The same size, evenly spaced, a beautiful curve. The perfect horns if they weren’t so deeply unwanted. Horns were always a sign of an evil character, and Roman was sprouting the devil’s accoutrement! 

He gasped, shifting the mirror again to examine them. He tried to simply shift them away like he was changing clothes. The horns stayed, sticking out of his hair. Was this some sort of prank? A trick? Roman tried to push them down back into his skull, but it only hurt his head worse. He summoned a comb and tried to style the hair up around them, but Linda continued to fight him and he just looked ridiculous with the only style that hid them. Roman reset his hair with a huff and summoned a crown. It hid the horns well enough, but an involuntary shiver ran down his spine when he realized the crown was familiar. He thought he had come up with it on the spot, as he often did, but it looked like the crown from his dream. 

The crown slid, and Roman huffed and adjusted it. It’s just a crown with red jewels. He’s overthinking it. Who is he, Virgil? No. It was fine. It hid the horns and it looked good. It wasn’t that deep. Whatever was causing the horns might not even be that deep, either. Maybe this was a prank from Remus. Or payback from some other side for a slight they imagined. Well, no matter. They were easy to hide and he always deserved a crown. Things just fell off of his head easily. The horns would hold it on for him, though. A blessing in disguise. Surely. Roman has a cool new crown and other than being purposefully ignored, things were fine. He would talk to Thomas later. And make him listen. ‘Fairness’ his royal hindquarters. Right now, though, his entire body hurt and he needed a nap.

—

It made sense Roman ended so bruised up, if he took the time to think about it. But when he woke up, yawned while he stretched out like the Disney princess he was, then summoned a mirror to check his hair, it surprised him so much he let out a very unmanly screech and dropped the mirror. It broke, of course. While Roman was preening and whining for help, he stepped on it by accident. But no one came, and the weight of it all sunk in slowly in the silent room.

Roman slumped to the floor and gingerly picked the mirror back up, checking again. A yellowing bruise around his eye. A pale blue on his cheek. Barely noticeable, but there. A massive green bruise on his neck. So his ego was bruised. And nobody cared to come take care of him. Unreasonable, really. Here he is trying so hard to keep Thomas distracted and delighted with all of his greatest creations, and nobody can even spare a pitiful ‘there, there’ with a pat on his very sore head. Roman reached up to check, and the horns were still there, though. Perhaps even bigger, but still hidden by the combination of the crown and hair. Maybe not a head pat, then. He grumbled and adjusted a loose strand back into place through the cracks of the mirror. 

This is how people get hurt. Not that that was a threat. But maybe it should be. No, that’s not who he was as a side. Well, who was he? Because he wasn’t being creativity, lately. Remus was doing that, much to Roman’s chagrin. His ego was too bruised to exist. His desires aren’t being listened to in the slightest right now, even if he knew all too well he wasn’t sure what he even wanted at the moment. But normally someone would at least listen to Roman ramble out vague feelings of yearning. There’s nothing but a hope of romance on the horizon, and all of his romantic schemes keep getting shut down as ‘premature’. His dreams are also shut down as ‘unrealistic’. All there is left is passion, and at the moment there was nothing anyone would let him be passionate about.

If the universe (or at least Thomassphere) was trying to send him a message, it needed to be a bit more clear. Like a shimmering golden scroll with a dyslexic-friendly font. Or perhaps some mystic herald. Ideally, an extended and fantastical musical number. That would really be grand. Roman tapped his chin, and it twinged in pain. He groaned loudly, still feeling like he just couldn’t win.

Carefully getting up, Roman started to pace the room again. It felt cold, and he wanted some comfort, so he summoned a red blanket to wrap over his shoulders as he walked, holding it tight over himself. It was honestly strange that no one came to visit. Patton would have been helping Roman in a heartbeat before. Patton loved helping. And yet he never answered any calls? 

“Patton?” Roman tried again, but it just felt like his words rammed into the wall and turned into dust that dumped all over the floor. He slogged through the debris of his words and sighed, pulling the blanket tighter. He kicked the dust and choked on his dead words, the coughing wracking pain through each and every bruise dappling his skin. 

This was truly unfair. What, was one catty remark enough to earn such revile? Well, not even that. That would require someone to even speak to him. He’s being completely ignored. Spurned, even. Is just one mistake all that it takes? If so, what a cruel double-standard to be held against him. Janus and Virgil are often making snide remarks, but Roman is somehow better than that? Were they not all Thomas? Even Logan gets to be a judgey bitch. And honestly, he didn’t even want to consider the types of things Remus said. And if Patton can make mistakes and apologize, then where was Roman? A unique doghouse made just for him. Unfairly. Cruelly. He wasn’t even given a chance to apologize, if that was indeed even the problem. No one ever even said what he did wrong to earn this exile. There’s no guidebook for this. 

Roman tried his hardest every second of his life to be who he thought Thomas needed. Creative, stunning, passionate, strong, dashing. A prince of fantasy writing scrolls of genius literature. But what was any of it worth if no one listened. If no one cared what he had to say or the works he wanted to put into the world. Why was Thomas putting so much time into listening to Remus and ignoring his glorious self? One who was objectively better in every way! For one, Roman could take the damned hint. If he wasn’t wanted, fine. He would be unwanted. If people—well, sides, at least, he knew the fans loved him—can’t want a good thing, that’s their problem. But he still had a job to do, even if they never gave him the chance. 

He looked like hell. Felt like shit. Honestly, not at his ‘A game’. But none of that mattered. It was time to make that hell someone else’s problem, whether they liked it or not.

Roman rose in Thomas’ bedroom, ignoring the looks he got from the other sides already in the room. “Thomas!” The man himself looked up from the edge of the bed warily. Remus was building another one of those god-awful contraptions across the bed. Roman raised his hand and Remus disappeared with a stinky gasp, clearly caught off guard. “Stop. Ignoring me for him. Make some time for me or I will do it myself. And I am right now.”

Patton held up his hand and opened his mouth, Roman just shushed him and zipped his mouth shut with his free hand, still holding the blanket around his shoulders. “Get your bodacious ass to that desk and write this down. I’ve been trying to tell you this idea for days and I don’t want to forget.” 

Thomas just stared blankly at Roman, not seeming to follow. He looked where Remus was, and his eyes shot to Patton who was trying to pull the fiddly zipper back open. “I don’t—”

Roman’s laughter cut Thomas off, gripping the crumpled bedsheet and leaning back in surprise. “I’m sorry for making that sound like a request somehow. I will turn this bedroom into a children’s hospital, so help me god. Desk.” Roman pointed at the desk with his unsheathed katana as he stared Thomas down. After a heavy pause, Thomas swallowed heavily and got up to go to the desk.

“I really don’t have the energy for this, Roman,” Thomas said weakly, and his exhausted face spoke that leagues more than his words did. Creases under his eyes, dry lips, a sag of the skin. Ugh, what he wouldn’t give for a spa day. But he sat at the chair and looked at Roman like he wished he did. The telltale pound of their shared heart in anticipation. A wave of nausea from needing some sleep and a good meal.

Roman steeled his heart for Thomas, and smacked the desk with the katana. “That’s what happens when you only make time for him. But I’m not letting any of you”—Roman pointedly glanced to the other sides in the room—“kill me. So it’s my time now. Open the damn notebook. And then we’re going for a shower. Have some pride, for god’s sakes,” Roman hissed out bitterly.

“But the schedule—” Logan tried.

“Was I even on it?” Roman shot, the sword now under Logan’s chin. Logan held up his hands and backed off. There was a look in his eye full of anger. But he bit his lip like he had something to say and sunk out, not another word. It seemed Logan understood how to choose his battles.

“Oh, hold on, change that word choice. This is better,” Roman hummed, waving his hand. Thomas scratched out the previous sentence and wrote the corrected version. He made notes of direction and key, and the corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly before another sigh knocked through his chest, exhaustion not playing any games with this poor man’s body much longer.

“Isn’t this a little…” Patton trailed off. He must have worked that zipper open.

“I’m done being little,” Roman huffed, using the hilt of the katana to knock his crown back into place.

“I can see that,” Janus hummed, crossing his arms.

“Oh, shut it, snake boy,” Roman snipped, Janus holding his hand to his chest and gasping in response.

“Perfect. Finally, that’s written down. We’re not filming anything like that, though, gorgeous, so to the shower with you,” Roman commanded.

“We have other—” Virgil tried to object.

“Sh. Actually, strip the bed first. These sheets are disgusting. Touching them after a shower is nightmare material, and I’ve had well enough of that, I think,” Roman ordered. Thomas looked confused and looked to the other sides.

“You want to get that bee out of your bonnet?” Virgil huffed, his hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets as he sat on the edge of the bed. The sheets were pulled off under him by Thomas, but he didn’t shift from his spot as they phased through him.

“Someone else put it there, and it’s made its new home. And if I have to deal with this forsaken bee, then you can all deal with me dealing with the bee,” Roman insisted firmly.

“What?” Virgil’s stiff posture dropped to look at Roman sideways.

“Oh, you know what I mean.” Roman waved Virgil off. Thomas deposited the sheets in the hamper and looked to all the sides again.

“Well, we do kind of smell. I thought that was Remus, but…” Patton trailed off again, looking to the floor and wringing his hands.

“Hot shower. Now. We’ll listen to Dear Evan Hanson for the emo, but we need some cleaning and hydrating, tout de suite,” Roman said, sending his sword away. Janus just rolled his eyes and Patton kept staring at the floor.

“I can’t call that musical anywhere near alt rock, princey,” Virgil said, leaning back on the bare mattress.

“It’s about all those sad loser things, close enough.” Roman grinned, leaning with one hand on the desk.

“Speaking of being a sad loser,” Janus said derisively.

“I’m sure you’re a professional at it, but I don’t have time for nonsense like that. Shower time is when I shine. Keep the phone close for notes, Thomas!” Roman motioned with his free hand and Thomas sighed, doing as told. Janus said something back, but Roman just ignored him and followed Thomas into the bathroom.

The hot water was divine. Life-giving, really. He could see what all those metaphors were about. Surely he could come up with a better one, though. Thomas gargled the hot water before just standing under the hot waterfall. Virgil appeared sitting on top of the toilet tank, surprising Roman. Everyone else seemed to have backed off. But if Virgil wanted a fight, he could get one.

“We’re not worrying this shower through, Virgil,” Roman stated flatly.

“Maybe you’re not,” Virgil scoffed, leaning on his thighs. “No, what’s with…” He motioned in Roman’s direction. “All of this?”

“The perfection? I know.”

“I more meant the shiners.”

“I am sparkling, aren’t I,” Roman said with a fond sigh.

“I’d rather be shiny,” Thomas sang in the shower. Oh, they forgot to turn on the tunes. Well, any musical is a good one. Virgil looked over to Thomas for a moment, humming along.

“Is that why the crown and the cape, too?” Virgil asked, turning back to look at Roman.

“Cape. Yes. Right. This is a cape.” Roman blinked and quickly turned the red blanket over his shoulders into a proper cape, hooked in the front with a golden embellished cape hook, sporting a red amulet in the design. He dropped his hand from the nape of his neck to lean with both hands on the bathroom counter.

“… That’s what I said,” Virgil stated oddly, looking over Roman again. “Are you sure you’re okay? Even other than the full spectrum of bruise going on,” he asked with a suspicious twinge.

Roman turned over his shoulder to look into the bathroom mirror at himself. There were massive cracks along the surface of the bathroom mirror. That was odd. When did that happen? The breaks in the surface distorted and fragmented the image of himself from behind. He saw a small version of his face give himself the once over. Small hairs sticking out from under his crown, littered with bruises, but still standing tall. Perhaps not ideal, but ideals were Pat’s territory. Creativity and passion could be messy. Wrought with mistakes and burdened with criticism, however heavy either are, these things move on. Perfection is an idea, but passion is a force of nature, not to be reckoned with. Creativity is the divine spark that brings new life to the world. Maybe ideals and such were beneath him all along, even.

“Princey?” Virgil asked again, shaking Roman from his reverie.

Roman looked back to Virgil and cleared his throat. “No. No, I’m not. I don’t think I’ve been okay in a long time, even. I may never even be okay again. But I can’t keep waiting for someone else to fix things. And I’m certainly not going to put up with being shoved aside any longer.”

“Uh, Ro—”

“Honestly, it’s been hard. And I’m tired of all this gaff and faff. Really, it’s too much for any side to handle. I shouldn't have been the side who who had to stepped up.”

“Roman—”

“I simply couldn’t handle all that mess any longer,” Roman said, with a hot huff through his nose, reaching up to adjust his crown again, since he shifted while he spoke. “And if no one is going to take care of my poor bruises, I will. And if that makes me a problem, I’m afraid that’s a you-problem. Not a me-problem,” he said resolutely.

“Princey,” Virgil insisted loudly.

“What is it, nightmare on whine street?” Roman narrowed his eyes at Virgil. If he was going to object…

Virgil pointed behind Roman, which was odd. There was just a sink there. Roman turned to look over his shoulder and just saw the shattered mirror again, the red cape misshapen along the breaks of glass. Fog spread along the edges of the glass as the steam from the shower heated up the bathroom, giving the visage a dreamlike appearance. Virgil grunted, attracting Roman’s eyes once more, and motioned with both hands to Roman’s body.

“Yes, I’m here, Virgil, spit it out already!” Roman’s head lolled back, and the crown caught on the horns this time instead of sliding off his head like it probably would have. He’s so not used to hats.

“How’s the amazing technicolour dreamcoat?” Virgil said, returning to leaning on his thighs with a big smirk.

“You know, I considered going full rainbow plenty of times, but it just gets clashy. So classic was the way to go. At least for now, anyway. Though getting someone over here to dye our whole head rainbow really would be a fun way to mix things up, wouldn’t it?” Roman hummed, rubbing his chin as he pondered the idea. Thomas pulled at a wet lock of hair and looked at it in the shower with interest.

“Classic villain?” Virgil asked, sounding amused.

“Now’s not the time for jokes, Virgil, don’t be silly,” Roman waved him off, still thinking about rainbow hair. Wasn’t that what people did when they wanted a change, anyway?

Virgil snorted. “Hey, Princey, what colour is your tunic?”

“Black, of course,” Roman joked, figuring he may as well play along. He stood up straight again and it was too fast, causing the crown to shift on his head, so he reached up to adjust it. The sleeve of his arm caught in his eyes though, and it was genuinely black now. Roman’s breath caught as his eyes locked on the fabric. Virgil tilted to look at his face, but Roman just grinned, rubbing the amulet on the cape hook with the sleeve to a shine. “It was time for a change. Isn’t it great? I’m a dark side like you used to be!” Roman enthused.

“Dark side? Roman, you made up that name. We never—”

“So? Everything real starts as an idea!” Roman defended. “What, are you jealous I look better in it than you?”

“More surprised than anything,” Virgil said, covering his mouth.

“You really did wuss out, Virgil. I think you were right all along. Being horrible and demanding gets things done,” Roman pondered on.

Virgil’s back shot straight, gripping his knees. “Excuse me?”

“Ugh, we still have to make the bed to actually go to bed,” Roman realized with a whine. “Oh, wait, that scene! Thomas, phone!” Roman waved at Thomas frantically, and Thomas reached for the phone to write it down, leaving wet marks on the screen. “Well, maybe since we’ve been staying up late already, it would be fine to write a little more…”

“Roman, what is going on with you,” Virgil demanded, standing up and hopping down from the toilet seat.

“Nothing that wasn’t a long time coming,” Roman huffed, crossing his arms and looking away.

Virgil jabbed at Roman’s chest with a finger and stared him in the eyes. “Do you really think—” Virgil started, and Roman snorted out an angry sound, heat licking at his face as smoke rose past his eyes in the fogged bathroom. Virgil’s eyes widened and he stumbled back, looking over to Thomas before looking back to Roman. “Creativity,” Virgil said, sounding taken aback for some reason. “Right,” Virgil muttered flatly and walked through the bathroom door, fading out and leaving nothing but the humid haze of the small bathroom to keep them company.

Roman turned quickly to look back into the shattered mirror, but the fog had completely overtaken the mirror, leaving nothing but a black and red smudge staring back at him. He could barely make it out as himself, but he knew it instinctively to be true. Roman gripped the counter top and stared where his eyes should be. This was what he wanted, right? Though having two dark creativities was a bit much to handle for his brain. That didn’t make sense. They needed new names. Roman was still passion, love, and hope. He wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t creativity, as well. That’s not a phase he’s growing out of. Remus being called ‘creativity’ is an affront, in Roman’s opinion. Perhaps the poopoo-stinky side still worked. Or the murderwhore. Buttface? Well, he could workshop that.

“Roman! That’s an unexpected look from you,” Thomas stated warily, sliding open the shower curtain. 

Roman turned around with a flourish. “Fortune favours the bold, darling, and I will be bold and fortunate if it kills you,” he said confidently, stepping out of the way of the sink.

“I’m sure Virgil has something to say about that.”

“Face, body, and hair moisturizer, Thomas, the emo already scampered off. We can get back to writing now that everyone is off my back, and I’m not wasting a second of my time,” Roman insisted, pushing Thomas closer to the sink to get to his beauty routine.

— 

“Well, one of us will have to change,” Remus said cattily as Roman rose up to enter the room.

“I already changed. Since you’re the stagnant skidmark in question, how about you?” Roman snipped back, putting up a hand to block his face. He ignored Remus’ gasp and faced Logan. “When am I on the schedule today, my walking, talking spreadsheet of a side?”

“My opinion matters today?” Logan asked shortly, his fist tightening at his side.

“Oh, like anyone else was listening to you either,” Roman scoffed, flicking his wrist to hurry along with the indignation and answer the question. Logan didn’t say anything, just continuing to glare. What a drama queen. “I’m asking now. Have you made time for moi, or am I taking time for moi?”

Logan paused as if considering something, before responding, “a half-hour in the evening,” between gritted teeth.

“That will absolutely not do, Logan. We’ll barely get started in that amount of time,” Roman objected right away.

“Well, you kept Thomas awake late with that stunt, and we are very behind on other responsibilities. We need to clean. Get proper groceries. Update our budget spreadsheets. Do some exercise. There is only so much time in the day, and as you are well aware, we still need extra sleep. Be reasonable,” Logan stated flatly.

Reasonable? Roman glowered back at Logan, who summoned a notebook to write something down. He didn’t think he was being unreasonable. Not that he was even ‘reason’ to begin with. That was so stupid it didn’t even dignify a response. And from Specs of all sides. Really. 

Roman looked over Thomas, who looked like a zombie as he tried to eat some dry cereal. “Out of milk?” Roman asked.

“Out of nearly everything,” Patton piped up. “I think—” 

“Hm, well, I don’t think I care that much about all the minutia. I’ll let you all handle that and be the artiste I am and just do what I need to as the moment demands,” Roman said haughtily, feeling joyously indulgent in himself. He reveled in Patton’s gaping stare, Virgil throwing back his head in a groan, and just ignored whatever Remus was doing as usual. “Ta ta for now!” 

Roman wiggled his fingers and sank out of the room, letting himself get caught up in a fantasy of not having to deal with all those things and simply get to be the star of the show. Oh, getting into another production was also a good idea. He had Thomas pull out his phone to check for auditions while he crunched on dry cereal and considered the options. The other sides had gotten into an argument, but it wasn’t about anything that mattered, so he left them to it and focused on more important things.

— 

“Hello again, my adoring audience!” Roman rose into the room with a twirl, his arms in the air in a pose. “Oh, not so much an audience today,” he said, examining the room with no one but Thomas. So many sides have been very present lately. “Finally feeling a little free of conflicting feelings, Tommy-Salami?” Roman put his hand on Thomas’ shoulder, who was splayed on the couch like a starfish.

“Not really… feeling.” Thomas’ head lolled over to Roman, looking up at him. “The cape is neat. What made you change your mind?”

“Ah, well, just an impulse, really,” Roman dismissed, not caring to even think about that himself. He looked around again, looking for Logan. Logic made it sound very important, and While Roman didn’t particularly care or agree on the methods, their life needed a bit of organizing. Who better than Logan to help? “Wasn’t there some schedule you were supposed to be keeping? I thought I’d be having at least a little rebuff here,” Roman stated, scrunching up his face in confusion.

“Happy to provide,” Janus hissed, appearing with his leg crossed over the other and his hands folded in his lap in the chair. Thomas’ head rolled over to look at him, but didn’t react otherwise.

“That wasn’t an encouragement,” Roman objected.

“Funny thing! Neither is this. I thought you realized we had a problem here and were doing the gracious thing,” Janus said pointedly, staring Roman down.

“I’m not feeling particularly gracious at the moment.” Roman rolled his eyes, motioning to the bruises all over his face and neck.

“We did always have an easy to bruise ego, didn’t we,” Janus remarked banally, as if he couldn’t be less interested. Roman just narrowed his eyes at him. “We’re taking a breather.”

“We’ve been doing nothing but taking a breather. Trust me, I understand a good spa day. But we’re not even recuperating! Look at him!” Roman motioned to Thomas who looked up lazily at Roman and shrugged. “Go do something good, or stop wasting me time.”

“What’s this really about Roman?” Janus said flatly.

Roman startled, pulling up his hand to his chest as his jaw dropped. “Excusé moi?”

“All… this.” Janus motioned to Roman, who looked down and looked up so fast he nearly launched his crown. It caught on his horn and he pushed it back into place on his head with a huff. “I’ve always known you were bitchy, but plagiarism? Come now, that’s supposed to be beneath us. Other than that whole… Inside Out situation,” Janus said insultingly, twisting his gloved hand in the air. Roman bristled, a thousand insults all fighting to bubble out at once, leaving him speechless and stammering. “No more zingers? Thank god,” Janus scoffed, looking away to Thomas and opening his mouth again once more, but Roman beat him to the punch.

Literally.

Janus stumbled back, holding his face and looking utterly and completely aghast.

“I have listened. And struggled. And tried. And I get all these conflicting requests and messages. Give me fun nicknames and quips Roman, they’re good for comedy! Oh, but not right now. Express yourself, Roman! But not that way, no no! That will not do! Perform right now! Ope, the moment’s passed, too late. Stop acting afool!” Roman shouted out as Janus stumbled back to fall on the couch next to Janus. Thomas seemed to be coming to, the haze in his eyes clearing as he looked over to Roman. “Or how about even just you, no other side involved? Doting on me with sweet compliments, playing along with my jokes, having a gas. Just to throw me out of the damned air balloon the first disagreement we have! I’m not buying what you’re selling anymore, Sanctimonious Snitch!”—Janus gasped loudly at that one—“If you have a problem with me, tell me. I’m not a damned mind-reader.”

“We’re literally the same person, but go off, I guess,” Janus muttered, rubbing his face. He knocked his hat back into place and tugged at the caplet to remove the rumples. But that wasn’t an answer.

“Oh, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” Roman said cattily, crossing his arms. His tail flicked behind him, knocking over a trinket on the shelf. Wait, tail?

“I could ask you the same question,” Janus grumbled, looking away. Roman shot his tail to fall down the back line of his legs to hide it in a panic. “Fine, I’ll leave you to these wet mashed potatoes. He’s so responsive right now, I’m sure it will be a breeze,” Janus drawled and disappeared from the couch.

Thomas looked up at Roman, seeming to slip back into that daze. Roman snapped. “Bup-bup-bup! Look at me! Best side, most handsome, easy on the eyes, shouldn’t be a problem,” Roman said confidently, striking a pose. But Thomas waned again. “Wake up, bitch!” Roman shot, clenching his fists and stamping his foot on the floor. The tail flicked again, but it was no matter. “Thomas!” Smoke billowed from Roman’s mouth and the room heated.

“Someone’s throwing a little temper-tantrum,” Remus hummed, placing an empty can on a precarious pile in his latest abomination of a Rube Goldberg machine. “What, do I get no invite to the pity party? You know how much I love balls,” Remus preened, leaning forward with a manic expression distorting open his eyes and lips.

“I already made that joke. But better. And ages ago. Get with the program,” Roman huffed, looking away. He let his tail swish freely along with the frustration, not caring if Remus saw. Roman took the chance to look at it as well. A red-scaled dragon tail with a spade at the end. On the thinner side. The base had some golden-white scales on the underbelly. At least the color-scheme made sense. Suddenly having a dragon tail didn’t. 

“Aw, did nobody wisten to your tales and you got so constipated with them, they shot out of your ass instead of your mouth?” Remus joked, flicking his fingers in Roman’s direction.

“More action than you’ve gotten,” Roman scoffed, his arms crossing again as he paced the room. He turned on a foot and faced Thomas pointedly, ignoring whatever machinations Remus had going on pointedly. Roman tugged at his tunic and cleared his throat, looking directly at Thomas who was still utterly dazed. “Thomas. You are getting up off this damned couch. We are making a mug cake for a little sugar so I can think in this hell hole we call an apartment, and we are writing, do you hear me?” 

Thomas just stared at him. Or maybe through him. 

“Listen to me!” Roman shot, fire passing from his lips, the carpet smoking beneath his boots.

“Did we upgrade to temperature-tantrum?” Remus mused playfully, rubbing his mustache.

“Weak, Remus. And you call yourself creativity,” Roman scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Eh, we’re sleep deprived.” Remus waved off, unfazed, and Thomas seemed to have caught himself tittering. Remus adjusted the remote control right next to Thomas’ hand, teetering to get knocked off to start the trap.

Roman sighed heavily and pulled Thomas off the couch by his left arm, away from the obvious set up all crafted behind him. 

“Spoilsport!” Remus shot, knocking down the remote himself. The trap set off, but Roman simply pulled Thomas away into the kitchen and away from all that mess.

“I’m not really hungry, Roman,” Thomas objected, but Roman didn’t care and sent a single arm flying, tugging him through the kitchen to the cabinet and pantry to make a mug cake. 

Logan rose up with a tired sigh, the other hand going into Thomas’ pocket for the cell phone, looking up a recipe for one. Roman was just going to wing it—honestly, how hard could it be—but with Logan’s help they had a mug brownie in hand with a spoonful of frost-bitten ice cream no one remembered buying on top in short order. Roman stuck the tail to the back of his pants and tried to hide it there, but Logan didn’t seem to be looking Roman’s way at all. He wasn’t sure if he was offended or relieved about that. 

There was a bit of fight to eat the sweet treat, Thomas stubbornly dodging with his head when they tried. The poor fool got a big smear of brownie on his face. But after a single bite, his stomach woke up and he was eating it in no time.

Roman felt incredibly self-satisfied with the victory, but Logan looked just as stale and unimpressed as before. “Geez Logan, it’s not a funeral,” Roman huffed, Thomas tossing a glance to Logan in-between bites. He handed off a wet paper towel to Thomas for him to clean off his cheek.

“Do you even care what I have to say?” Logan asked flatly, looking stoic as usual. Thomas took the paper towel automatically, and then did a double-take between Roman and the wet rag before cleaning off his face.

“Not really, but it’s not like you care at all,” Roman said dismissively, and Logan’s eye twitched. “But I don’t think that matters. When is dinner time on that schedule of yours again? I wasn’t paying attention,” Roman asked. Logan’s arms dropped to his side and he stood there blankly for a moment. “Logan?”

“Earth to the ass-tronaut!” Remus shot from the living room.

“Remus I will cut you into bite sized pieces and feed you to the birds!” Roman shouted back angrily.

“What, not enough of a man to vore me whole?” Remus teased, wiggling his ass in the air.

“Logan, what time do we need to go and make dinner,” Roman asked again, just ignoring Remus. Then glanced around the kitchen to all the dirty dishes. There wasn’t even a clean counter to work with. “Er, well… order out dinner, actually,” he amended his question. Even if they started cleaning the kitchen now, he didn’t think they’d be done in time to make dinner. And they certainly didn’t have the energy to clean up after making dinner, either. Roman glanced over to the garbage, and even that was full of take out containers. Roman groaned inwardly as his head sagged. He knocked the crown back into place and looked at Logan who still stood there like a robot.

“You’d think he’d be hopping on the opportunity to answer a question like that,” Roman remarked.

“Maybe that scheduling fetish doesn’t have the same spark anymore,” Remus suggested, leaning over the counter to look into the kitchen. “Let’s add roaches to the mug cake. Ant sprinkles. A little bit of sh—”

“No,” Roman and Thomas said simultaneously, but Thomas was still struck with a shudder.

“Rude,” Remus whined.

“I… don’t understand the purpose of this question,” Logan finally said, and to his credit he really looked lost.

“And I don’t understand the confusion. What, did you shred it up? Feed it to the neighbor’s dog? Did Remus light it ablaze?” Roman asked incredulously. 

“Oh!” Remus cackled with delight at the idea.

“Well, obviously not that one, then,” Roman groused, shoving some food in Thomas’ mouth since he got distracted from eating again. “I know you have redundant schedules. And those back-ups have back-ups. Just give me a time, I don’t care about the specifics or some sob story about how one of Remus’ little brain demons at your day planner,” Roman said, leaning on the counter lazily.

“… Why?” Logan asked.

“Ugh. I see now that too much chaos and disorder is a problem. And while I don’t want it cutting into my me time, I’ve been cut all the same. I’d rather stop early than not get to be myself at all. Did you think I wanted this fashion flip? No! It sucks!” Roman tried to explain but fell off into complaining.

“Sure suits you though,” Remus said with a high teasing tone. Roman raised his arm and tried to send off Remus again, but the gremlin’s smile only widened. “That trick will only work once! You can’t surprise me with the audacity anymore when you have nothing but!” Remus announced brightly, leaning in and shackling himself dramatically to the counter, the chains loudly clanking and he posed like a waif dying in a dungeon. “I’m here forever,” he sighed miserably.

“No one is allowed to call me over-dramatic ever again,” Roman said flatly. Remus collapsed to the counter and coughed out blood, his cheeks growing hollow and dark as he coughed. “You act like you’re trapped and withering, but you’ve always had it good,” Roman stated darkly.

“Oh ho?” Remus looked up from the counter with high eyebrows, wiping the blood from his lips with his hand. It smudged all over his face, only looking worse.

“You’ve never been stuck listening to all these stupid rules,” Roman started. “Do it this way, Roman. What about what’s popular, Princey? That won’t sell, Roman. Don’t be mean, Roman. You can’t talk about our current project, Roman, that’s spoilers! Why don’t you stand up for what’s right, aren’t you a prince? Distract me, Roman!” He said with increasing volume in a mocking tone, his hands yapping along with him. “You’ve always just done whatever you wanted without ever considering another soul, and nobody blinks an eye. If I was anywhere near as bad as you, I’d get chastised from all sides!” Roman ranted out, slamming his fist into the counter. Thomas put down his mug and considered Roman carefully, looking aware of him for the first time this afternoon. “I didn’t even ask, and you helped me,” Roman said quietly. “Which is more than I can say about any other side right now!” He shouted to the ceiling. Remus cackled loudly, echoing eerily in the room. “So. When are we ordering dinner on your schedule? Or have you been shut up by Janus again,” Roman insisted in a hard tone.  

“You. You started that,” Logan said in a baffled tone.

“Be the fun side, Roman. Come up with a joke, Roman. Keep it light-hearted, Roman,” he hissed through his teeth as he reiterated, glaring at Logan through the words forcing their way through the walls of his pearly whites.

“That’s rich,” Remus said with a dreamy sigh.

“If we were rich, the kitchen would be clean and our private chef would be making us a meal right now!” Roman shot angrily, his tone nothing short of bitchy and done-with-it.

“Soak the mug, Thomas,” Logan said quietly, pointing at the empty mug Thomas held as he gaped at the other sides.

“Please do.” Roman waved him to the sink. “I thought it was a joke. Between friends. But here we are and I fucked up again if you’re holding something that stupid against me. Sorry. Should I hold a sign,” he grumbled out, flicking his head side to side.

“I would appreciate that,” Logan said, suddenly holding the day planner in his hands.

“That was a joke, but you know what, sure,” Roman agreed with exasperation. “Time!” He snapped impatiently again.

Logan regarded Roman through thin eyes. “We should order dinner in around two hours. Ideally, something nutritionally sound. And since we’ve been eating out or having pre-packaged meals, we should be drinking plenty of water to be mindful of our sodium intake,” Logan said warily, like he expected to get cut off any minute.

“Ugh, boring,” Roman groaned, his head falling back. “Alright then. Thomas, a glass of water and to the desk, right now. We’re going to color a little to wake you up from whatever fog you’ve been in and then writing for the rest of the time. Let’s go! We have a limited amount of time! Look alive, Thomas!” He stood up straighter and pointed, adjusting his crown.

“Unlike me!” A zombie Remus conjured said at the same time as Remus.

“The cross on the wall will handle it, go!” Roman insisted, and Thomas grabbed a glass from the cabinet with wide eyes and filled it from the pitcher in the fridge.

Roman thought he saw Logan smiling out of the corner of his eye, but he was just stoically taking notes in that stupid spiral notebook as he sank out of the kitchen when Roman looked at him properly. More zombies appeared, but Roman just made a bolt-action holy water stake launcher appear in his hands and shot them all in the head before Thomas had a chance to notice them as he took his glass of water upstairs. He passed Virgil, who shot Thomas a quizzical look, but didn’t say anything as Thomas passed.

The zombies all fell over into dust, which Roman gathered and washed down the sink with a sigh as Remus threw a massive fit on the floor, thrashing his arms and kicking his legs. “One of those days, huh?” Virgil remarked. 

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe, sister,” Roman agreed with a tired whine. He looked at the stake-launcher in his hands and where Remus threw a fit on the floor and took aim. Roman paused and sagged, walking over to Virgil and dropping off the gun in his hands as he passed upstairs to follow Thomas. “If you use it, I won’t say a word.” Roman winked and headed up the stairs with a flourished wave, turning away from the nonsense.

—

Roman lounged in the chair, munching on one of the cream cheese wontons they ordered as a side to the mushroom stir-fry and watching the film. It wasn’t exactly his choice of media, but it seemed that Thomas somehow got it in his head that a zombie movie would be fun. He couldn’t imagine where. 

Virgil sat on the top of the couch, gripping his knees, while Remus laid on the floor far too close to the screen, propped up on his palms and kicking his legs as he watched the carnage with rapt attention. At least it was distracting the little bastard. Roman didn’t pay much attention to the screen. He really only wanted a wonton. 

Thomas, as usual, wasn’t a big horror fan. Especially watching horror movies alone. It was honestly a terrible idea. Virgil may be extra ‘vigilant’ all night. Roman didn’t see much merit in these kinds of shows, and they also freaked him out, but he didn’t really want to be even more alone by going back to his room, either. Sitting there was close enough. Janus checked in from time to time, but otherwise there were no other sides there, and Thomas wasn’t paying attention to them. It may be the closest they were going to get to ‘relaxed’ for tonight, anyway. After Roman wrapped up with writing, it sunk in with Thomas that he laid around and did nothing all day when he could have been writing or cleaning or organizing or catching up on any number of other things and Roman didn’t quite know what to do with that. 

These little dilemmas where Virgil goes between stating the obvious and being helpful to being part of the problem randomly seem to be tricky waters. Roman honestly would have rather been writing than moping. Logan would agree that it would have been a better use of his time. Patton was the one most wrought with guilt about it sometimes. Putting on a scary movie as a distraction was Janus’ suggestion in the end. Something about leopards. Roman wasn’t paying attention, he was busy picking what he wanted to eat. He’d been struggling with wants lately and just needed to feel sure. Thankfully, the wontons hit the spot, so he was right. 

“Are you even watching?” Virgil whispered, and Roman just hummed in response, pulling out his phone to play on it. “Why even be out here if you don’t want to watch, Princey?”

“Logan’s probably busy with Patton at the moment. That whole ‘effective use of time doesn’t include guilt, so it is unproductive to mourn time you wasted’ spiel we’ve heard a million times before that never seems to click. So sitting alone while our heart is pounding out of our chest from this zombie nightmare is not how I would like to spend this evening. May as well sit here if I’m just going to sit somewhere, anyway. Our brain is proper mush after today, I’m not wringing another word out of it no matter how fine the cheesecloth,” Roman explained quietly, swiping through the apps to pick what he wanted to play. Oh, the prince dress-up app seemed nice. 

“And the tail?” Virgil asked, leaning over to look around Roman’s side, to the red scaled tail wrapped around his side. 

Roman glanced at it briefly to see the end flicking like an annoyed cat before returning to dressing up his dream prince. “Like I’m in control of that,” Roman huffed distractedly.

“You’re literally the mos—” Virgil started, but jumped when there was a sudden noise, stopping to look around suspiciously. “Zombies!?” Virgil hissed in surprise.

“Shotgun?” Remus asked, as if in a daze.

“Sides, Virgil,” Logan said, standing with Patton in the kitchen as they gathered a drink of ice water. Roman summoned a throw pillow right away and slammed it over his tail.

Virgil looked over, seeing Roman’s hot face and his hand gripping over the red throw pillow to hide the tail. Virgil snorted, flicking his eyes between Roman’s face and the white-knuckled grip on the pillow. “Princey—” Virgil started, but Roman shushed him quietly and sat up straighter, smiled a bit, and quickly checked to make sure his crown was in place.

Logan looked into the living room, a bored look on his face when he saw the TV. Patton said something quietly, and Logan returned to conversation with him and they both sunk out a moment later. Roman’s shoulder’s relaxed and he sighed as he sunk back into the chair.

“Kiddo, can I talk to you?” Patton asked, rising up, and Roman screamed, falling over sideways on the chair.

“Okay, maybe this movie was a bad idea,” Thomas admitted, looking over to them. Roman’s face grew hot again and he knocked his crown back into place. He coughed and sat up straight.

“Shut it or I’ll shut it for you,” Remus sang out, waving a hand above his head.

“Let’s go elsewhere,” Patton suggested warily, grabbing Roman’s shoulder. Roman nodded and swallowed heavily, and the pair sank away from their spots and Roman found himself sitting in the same spot in Patton’s room. Though the throw pillow that hid his tail here said ‘there’s no place like home’ in sky blue instead of the plain red one he summoned before. 

“I’m quite done explaining myself, Patton,” Roman defended when Patton didn’t talk to him right away. Patton just wrung his hands and stared at the floor.

“No, you’re right, I think I heard enough. I am on a streak, lately,” Patton said despondently, trailed by a weak laugh. “It’s not about that. But I am sorry for the mixed messages I had a part in. It’s not as simple as ‘do this but don’t do this’, though. But that’s besides the point.” Patton waved slightly, looking nervous. “You did a good job.”

Roman froze at that, not expecting those words out of his mouth. Honestly expected some kind of long-winded discussion about nuance with that starter. Compliments, though? He couldn’t believe that for a second. He’s been doing nothing but fighting for the last few days. “Spare me the platitudes, Patton,” Roman dismissed, looking the other way.

“Really, kiddo. You did. We’ve done something other than sleep and distract ourselves for the first day in months. You somehow got Thomas out of that fog yesterday that no one else could shake,” Patton said with a soft smile. “Hoo boy, I was there before Janus. And I just don’t know how you did it, champ! Must be magic,” he added, putting his hands on his hips and laughing lightly.

“I did my job. And I haven’t exactly been the most pleasant prince to parlay with,” Roman said, blinking up at Patton. His tail tried to twitch out of the pillow, but he slammed it down harder. “And I’m still mad at you for not coming when I called for help,” he added, his tone biting.

“Sorry again, Roman. I just… didn’t know what to say. I was worried I’d do it again, say the wrong thing, and just… contribute to the mess instead of fix it,” Patton said, contrite with his palms wide open. “And I still don’t know what to say.”

“I’d rather you stand there mute then leave me to rot, Patton,” Roman hissed out softly, looking up at him. 

Patton’s smile sagged slightly, but he spread his arms wide. “Then would you like a hug?” He asked, and Roman’s arms shot around him faster than he even realized that yes, he desperately did. Patton’s arms wrapped around him slowly, rubbing Roman’s upper back as they embraced. “I’ve been learning a lot lately. Especially a lot about what it means to be good. I used to think that kindness was always the right thing to do. There’s no situation that a little kindness would hurt. At least, that’s what I thought. But…” Patton trailed off for a moment, and Roman looked up to see him looking to the ceiling, deep in thought. 

The hug loosened, and Roman reluctantly let go for Patton to back up. He dropped onto the floor and looked up to Roman instead, crossing his legs and summoning himself what looked like a mug of hot cocoa. Patton sipped it silently for a moment, and Roman was at a loss for what could possibly come after that. That was what made sense. Every scene could use a hero. A dashing prince whose kindness and generosity helped the many, and people supported that prince in return.

Patton swallowed a gulp of cocoa before putting the mug on the floor and folding his hands in his lap. “Well… sometimes the kindest thing to do is be firm. And insistent. And sometimes that will end up looking a little mean.” Roman scoffed at that. “Okay, more than a little. You’ve been very mean. But Roman? I tried every kind word and encouragement under the sun. I tried to be soft. I tried to be patient. I almost tried bribes! But Thomas never moved. He just sat there like a rock while Remus worked on his next contraption. Janus literally came to take bets to see how long until you give up. But you forced your way through it, got us some food, and got us out of that funk. I’ve always been pro-peace, and I still am, don’t get me wrong. But I see now… in situations like this… an unwavering force can be good. And you did more good for Thomas than anyone else did with it.”

“I… How can I be unwavering if I don’t even know what I want, Patton?” Roman said weakly, letting go of his vice grip on the pillow to sag back into the chair.

“You wanted some time to write. You wanted a sweet to get the brain going. You wanted people to pay attention to you. Those seemed to work plenty!” Patton said brightly, going back for the cocoa.

“But those are so small and meaningless,” Roman objected, dejected.

“Rainbows start out from raindrops,” Patton said wisely, holding up a finger. “We’re just… starting small. While we figure it out. But we need to be resolute, I think. And forgiving,” he explained, his hand dropping back to the mug to hold it. “Speaking of, I think you have some words to say, mister.”

“Explaining how light refracts is a Logan-type situation.” Roman waved off, lolling his head to the side.

“No, no,” Patton chuckled. “The mean behaviour? The dismissing? I think you can be firm without being so rude,” he chastened.

“Can I?” Roman drawled, summoning himself a cocoa to hold on his lap.

“We’re re-learning our priorities from the ground up. I can’t say that it’ll always be a walk in the park. But I can say the stroll will be more merry”—Roman winced at that—“if we all start out with being kind… then perhaps be a bit more forceful if it’s important and we’re being bull-headed,” Patton explained.

Roman sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. “How am I supposed to know what’s ‘important’?” He asked, raising a hand to do finger quotes around the weightiest word.

“I… don’t know. I guess we’ll have to find out, huh,” Patton said, his gaze dropping to the floor. 

Roman’s arm fell to his lap, and he took a deep breath in as he looked up to the ceiling. “I’m… Sorry, Pat. I shouldn’t have zippered your mouth shut. I felt like you wouldn’t have my back and was too tired for a fight. But… I can see now that wasn’t fair of me,” Roman said genuinely, his eyes growing uncomfortably warm and wet. “Who am I, teenage Virgil?” He joked with a weak laugh.

“Very moo-ving apology,” Patton dropped a delayed pun, and Roman shot him with a finger gun along with a half-smile. “And?”

“Sorry for steam-rolling you, too,” Roman sighed, lifting up his mug to his face.

“You’ve been a real steam-powered dragon like—”

“How did you know?” Roman shot, gripping at his tail under the pillow. “Who told you?” He demanded.

“Like… like in one of those coolio steampunk novels?” Patton finished with a completely lost expression, and Roman’s face heated worse. “Roman, your head is smoking.”

Roman cleared his throat and swished at the air to clear up the fog, the tail now sticking out from under the pillow at the corner of his vision. “It… does that?” Roman said. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. 

“Well… you’re going through some things. We all are. Change can be… difficult. But it’s good, this time. You did good. That’s my point,” Patton followed up, ignoring the Roman’s obvious failure to mask the draconic situation.

“… Things were easier when they were black and white,” Roman admitted quietly. It felt hard to take the praise, for once. That used to come naturally to him. But he had to admit that considering how long they’ve all been wallowing, it was a victory worth claiming.

“Speaking of,” Patton hummed over his mug of cocoa. Roman slowly pulled his head off the chair to look at Patton who bounced his eyebrows and looked down, then back up to Roman’s face again. Roman sighed and looked down, seeing his tunic had turned back to white somehow. He lifted the pillow, but he still had the dragon tail underneath it. “Oh, neat!” Patton declared excitedly.

“I have no idea what I’m doing. But I also think I need people to respect me for what I am doing. Is that something that’s even possible? To respect someone with no control over themself?” Roman asked tiredly. 

“I respect you, champ,” Patton said softly. “Especially if you apologize to everyone else as well,” he added in a chiding tone, and Roman rolled his eyes. He’ll apologize for punching Janus if he asks. And he wasn’t even sure what he did wrong with Logan. Or Virgil. He also couldn’t mean Remus, could he? Roman was knocked from his reverie as Patton continued. “We’re all just doing what we can, and myself in particular learned the hard lesson that doing what you can when there’s still so much more you could do isn’t some kind of moral failure. Maybe you can take a page out of my book on this one. It wasn’t a fun lesson to learn,” he suggested, sounding very battered and worn.

“Patton, darling, I’m sure it was very poignant or whatever, but I don’t see how that applies,” Roman stated tiredly, leaning back again to drink his cocoa.

“Judging someone for not doing something they can’t do isn’t helpful. So If you don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re trying… that’s enough. And that will probably always be enough. We just keep… trying,” Patton said, sounding like he was coming to the conclusion at the moment rather than explaining what he meant. Maybe it didn’t quite matter. All this morality discussion was hurting his head.

Roman looked to Patton again, who seemed to be deep in thought now. Figuring out some big answer to the meaning of life no doubt. Roman looked down at himself and took stock. Still had a dragon tail. Tunic turned white again. The cape bunched up under him on the chair. Roman knocked at the crown, and it still bumped against the horns. Well. Maybe being part dragon wasn’t so bad. As long as he wasn’t a dragon witch. That would be awkward to explain. Made him more interesting than Remus, at least. Damned side put so much thought into his outfit’s small details it was embarrassing to look so plain next to him. But no matter.

“I think I’m keeping the cape,” Roman said resolutely. At least he could follow that. Want what you want whole-heartedly. Even if it’s little.

“It looks very fun,” Patton said happily.

“And Remus still sucks.”

“R—” Patton was cut off right away.

“Dick!” Remus screamed, reverberating through Patton’s room. 

They both sighed together and sipped some cocoa, and the moment grew quiet. It was comfortable, though. Patton’s loud and eccentric room glowing softly. Some familiar music played distantly in the background, and Patton hummed along. 

“And wouldn't it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong?” Roman sang along, starting out a bit meek before leaning into it and adding a riff. The mirror above the couch also looked shattered, still, but he just moved on and let his eyes roam all the other pictures on the wall.

“You know it's gonna make it that much better, when we can say goodnight and stay together. Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up in the morning when the day is new?” Patton joined along for the next line, and they sang together to the Beach Boys with their cocoa. Roman’s tail flicked against the chair, Patton having slipped on his cat hoodie and moving to lean against Roman’s legs. They swayed together to the tune, and Roman let his brain wander to nice places, ignoring the random zombie noises and letting himself hold onto this little joy in the orangey-glowing colours of the sunset flooding in from the sliding patio door.

[thefuzzzz]

My 2024 Fanfic Masterlist

It's been a good year and my first full year of writing fics on Ao3! I decided to make a masterlist of all my fics this year to look back on what I've written. They're ordered from least to most recent by ship. I hope you can find something in this list to enjoy!

Ships and fandoms:

Roman/Virgil (Sanders Sides), Jason/Nico (Percy Jackson), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Akutagawa/Atsushi (Bungo Stray Dogs), Dazai/Chuuya (Bungo Stray Dogs), Daichi/Sugawara (Haikyuu!),

Roman/Virgil (Sanders Sides):

Quiet Night Together (Established relationship, fluff, nightmares)

The Reverse Shakespearean Experience (Written for @/sandersidesbigbang. Click here for info on my wonderful collaborators and more)

Jason Grace/Nico Di Angelo (Percy Jackson and the Olympians):

There are 31 of these, so I put them into collections by their respective events since I didn't post any without an event running (both hosted by the lovely @/jasico-challenges!)

Valentine's Day Bingo Oneshots (link to my masterlist of just these here)

Jasico Week

Keith/Lance (Voltron):

The Beginning of a Beautiful Tune (A 3-chapter college AU featuring violinist Keith and pining Lance)

Next Best Thing (After saving the universe, Keith and Lance have a hard time being apart from each other, and begin sharing clothes to help deal with the long distance)

Lance's Perfect Plot to Getting his Hot Coworker to Go on a Date with Him (An AU where Keith and Lance are waiters at a diner and endure rom-com levels of humor to get together)

New Affection (Fluff without plot)

Lance's Very Eventful Trip to the Dog Park (Modern AU meet cute)

How to Recover from Getting Stood Up (Step one: Meet a cute barista and walk him home in the rain. Step two: Awkwardly flirt with him in hopes he reciprocates. Step three: Take him to an arcade and demolish him in laser tag.)

Your Father's Hand-Me-Down Anger (light angst with a happy ending)

Keith Takes His Whiskey Neat (Western AU featuring outlaw Keith and musician Lance)

Icy Rain and a Sapphire Ring (Marriage proposal, post cannon)

Keith v.s. Lance's Skincare Routine (Lance makes sure Keith is really included in his nighttime routine, much to Keith's dismay)

A Summer Off the Court (Volleyball player Keith and Texan Lance in what I can only describe as a gay Hallmark Movie AU)

Who Else Would It Be? (angst with a happy ending featuring Blade of Momora Keith, written for the Klance Intergalactic Hub Discord server's reverse big bang event)

Flip Phones, Cowboy Hats, and Christmas Trees (A 2000's modern AU (yet another gay Hallmark Movie AU) with Texan Lance and Myspace famous turned small YouTuber Lance)

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungo Stray Dogs):

Cruelly Limited World (Pure angst)

Akutagawa Learns To Trust Atsushi With Something Other Than His Life (Post-mission fluff featuring a bubble bath)

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungo Stray Dogs):

Another Anniversary (Domestic fluff)

Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi (Haikyuu!):

All of these were for DaiSuga week, hosted by the amazing @/daisugaweek2024, so here's the Ao3 series link, and here's the Tumblr masterlist!

That's it! If you made it this far down the post, I really appreciate you! I hope you found something to read. This post was really just for me to see all my works from the year in one place, but I'm so happy you read through it all!

[sandersidesbigbang]

The Reverse Shakespearean Experience

Writer: @thefuzzzz

Beta:

@loganisanobody

Artists:

@loganisanobody

Art link

@zombiesandbells

Art link

Rating: General Audiences

Ships: Virgil Sanders/Roman "Princey" Sanders

Summary:

"Now wait a minute Virgil, let's just try a rehearsal with Roman. Just once. If you hate it, you don't have to do it ever again,' Patton reasoned.

"There is no way in hell I am doing anything with Roman Prince." Logan adjusted his clipboard. "Why do you feel the need to say his whole name every time?" "That's beside the point!"

Roman threw his hands up exasperatedly. Virgil waved him off, deciding to ignore him. There was no way this was worse for him than it was for Virgil.

"Just once," Thomas said. "Just one run through the show." Virgil sighed. He pinched his nose. "Fine. Once." ——————— A college + community theater au where Virgil is bullied into joining a community theater by his roommate, Patton, and forced into an unlikely friendship with his sworn enemy.

This fic was written for the Sanders Sides big bang! More about that in the author’s note.

Ao3 link

Tumblr link

[thecrowslullaby]

i haven’t talked to anyone in the sanders sides fandom in years

how’s things holding up community wise? heavenly? shitshow?

also hello 👋 good morning/night (time zones are strange)

Hi! :D

Decent? I think? There is a bit if drama still as is usual in fandom, so ill run dowm the drama parts first for you:

There hasn't been any new 'major'/non-filler episodes in a while (how long-it depends whom you ask - the answers range from a week weeks to 3 years) so there is a big debate about that, and whether or not Thomas has wronged his fans. Also Thomas had some health issues, ans that sparketd another wave of complaints from fans regarding his apperence. Also obviously pro vs anti shipper fights in some corners if the fandom, but what fandom doesnt have at least one ship people are very heated about?

But also fun things! The comunity us a but smaller, but those who stuck around are very passionate still.

We currently have 3 ongoing big bangs (one of which is horror themed) and ine or two reverse big bangs (art first - story later).

So yeah, we're still modeeately afloat. I'm not that active in the ts fandom rn (i say as im modding 3 events xd), just stay i my little corner with a few friends.

So to answer your question: depends which corner of ts fandom you venture into?

[lickoutyourbrains]

Hey, question, I know you're also into Sanders Sides, are you planning on participating in the BB this year? I think I remember you being in it last year as well, but it's a bit foggy

-g

I did do the TSS Big Bang last year but I won't be participating this time around, I've got a lot of things on my 'to-do' list both art and drawing wise so I don't want to over load myself.

Though I am doing the reverse bang event, where instead of a writer creating a story and artists draw something based off of it, it's an artist making a picture and a writer creating a story based off of it. I'll be an artist of this one and I've already finished my piece for it :D

[msclaritea]

Amazon Studios: Big Swings Hampered by Confusion and Frustration – The Hollywood Reporter

Despite ambitious bets like 'Daisy Jones & The Six' and the upcoming 'Citadel,' insiders complain that there’s still "no vision for what an Amazon Prime show is." But chief Jen Salke says they are missing the point: "You don’t reverse-engineer true creative vision."

BY KIM MASTERS

APRIL 3, 2023 12:43PM PDT

It’s long been an open secret that Jeff Bezos has yearned for his own Game of Thrones, and that Amazon’s big swing as it reached for its own massive hit was The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, believed to be the most expensive series ever made.

Last September, the show began with a bang, delivering the biggest debut ever on the streamer in what Amazon Studios chief Jennifer Salke called “a very culturally defining moment” for the company. But when season one wrapped, the show was less defining than hoped, falling short of being the breakout hit that Amazon had envisioned.

While Amazon, like other streamers, provides only limited data — and internally, it held information even more closely than usual on the series — sources confirm that The Rings of Power had a 37 percent domestic completion rate (customers who watched the entire series). Overseas, it reached 45 percent. (A 50 percent completion rate would be a solid but not spectacular result, according to insiders). The show has not been a major awards contender, either, overlooked by the major guilds with the exception of one SAG-AFTRA nomination for stunt ensemble.

But according to Salke, the series has worked. “This desire to paint the show as anything less than a success — it’s not reflective of any conversation I’m having internally,” she says. The second season, currently in production, will have more dramatic story turns, she adds. “That’s a huge opportunity for us. The first season required a lot of setting up.”

Data from Nielsen on minutes watched reveals that when it comes to original shows generally, Amazon has lagged. In 2022, Netflix hoovered up the top 10 spots for original streaming series, with Amazon’s The Boys in 11th place — ahead of The Rings of Power at No. 15. Using the same measurement, none of the top 15 originals of 2021 came from Amazon. (Netflix again took all the slots except for Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale in 10th place, Apple’s Ted Lasso at 12, and Disney+’s WandaVision in the 14th spot.)

Many current and former Amazon executives, as well as showrunners who have series at the streamer and agents who make deals there, believe that this is no accident. They describe Amazon Studios as a confusing and frustrating place to do business. When it comes to movies, where Amazon’s footprint is expanding following the $8.5 billion acquisition of MGM a year ago, a veteran producer says that, in recent years, “there has been no sense of what the philosophy is.”

On the series side, numerous sources say they cannot discern what kind of material Salke and head of television Vernon Sanders want to make. A showrunner with ample experience at the studio says, “There’s no vision for what an Amazon Prime show is. You can’t say, ‘They stand for this kind of storytelling.’ It’s completely random what they make and how they make it.” Another showrunner with multiple series at Amazon finds it baffling that the streamer hasn’t had more success: Amazon has “more money than God,” this person says. “If they wanted to produce unbelievable television, they certainly have the resources to do it.”

But Salke believes the studio’s approach fits Amazon’s broad remit. “I have never been one to say [to the creative community] ‘We need five action franchise shows and three workplace situation comedies.’ That’s the kiss of death,” she says. “You don’t reverse-engineer true creative vision. We are programming for over 250 million households across the entire globe. We would say we have a big, broad audience, and we are looking for content that entertains the four quadrants.” (That is, male and female, under 35 and over 35).

The question that makes many in Hollywood nervous is whether the Amazon Studios overlords in Seattle believe they are getting enough bang for their megabucks. The last thing the industry wants at a time of belt-tightening is a cutback in spending from a deep-pocketed buyer. According to Salke, that concern is misguided. “The proof exists that the giant tentpole shows are driving people to subscribe to Prime,” she says. “Do we pressure ourselves to be more disciplined, more strategic? Of course. We consistently examine if we’re producing the right amount of content at the right value to drive the most engagement across our service.”

Like Apple, Amazon is not a traditional entertainment company but a huge retailer with a side hustle in Hollywood. Amazon’s view is that the more hours you spend watching Prime Video, the more likely you are to renew your membership and the more likely you are to shop on the site. As Amazon, like Netflix, pursues overseas growth in the wake of saturation in the U.S., Salke notes that in some countries like South Africa and Argentina, Amazon’s programming is the tip of the spear, entering the territory before retail sales or fast, free shipping is even available. “International is everything,” she says. “It is our business to deliver global shows for a global audience.”

The streamer has certainly had its success stories, including buzzy shows like Transparent, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and Fleabag, and popular series like The Boys, Jack Ryan, Jack Reacher and The Terminal List. But it has arguably never had a brand-defining show that is a commercial and critical juggernaut in the vein of HBO’s Game of Thrones, Netflix’s Stranger Things or Apple’s Ted Lasso. And all of those Amazon series, except Jack Reacher and The Terminal List, were launched when Salke’s predecessor, Roy Price, ran the studio. (Price departed in 2017 amid allegations of improper conduct; Salke took over in 2018.)

Jennifer Salke CHARLEY GALLAY/GETTY IMAGES

One of Salke’s first greenlights was Daisy Jones & The Six, based on the Taylor Jenkins Reid novel and co-produced by Reese Witherspoon’s Hello Sunshine. Lauren Neustadter, president of film at Hello Sunshine, says she and Witherspoon had lunch with Salke just as she was starting at Amazon. “She was really clear and articulate in her vision” for what she wanted to do with the job, Neustadter says. “Reese and I both said Daisy is all the things she was talking about. The book, the show, fashion — we had big dreams for this.”

Amazon put more than $140 million into production, in part due to high COVID protocol costs. The show dropped March 3 with solid numbers and eventually topped Parrot Analytics’ weekly engagement chart. The 2-year-old novel popped back onto Amazon’s best-seller list, and the retailer is able to sell tie-in merchandise. Aurora, an album featuring songs from the fictional band, is climbing the Billboard charts. However, insiders say the show remains shy of the breakout hit the studio hoped for. (Released around the same time, Donald Glover’s Swarm is also delivering strong results for Amazon at a more modest $30 million budget.)

A far more costly and troubled production was the Russo brothers’ Citadel, which debuts on April 28. Anthony Russo says Salke first approached AGBO, the Russos’ production company, with a general concept of making a U.S. show with international foreign-language versions. AGBO came up with “a global spy show where you would have a mothership U.S. language show” alongside foreign-language versions in other countries, Russo says. The various versions are “related to one another, but they also exist independently and distinct from one another.” Some of the international shows may be set in different time periods, he adds. 

Amazon has committed to three seasons of three versions of the show; so far, a local-language production is underway in Italy and in early stages in India. “We love the ability to communicate with people all over the world, and to connect people through stories,” Russo continues. “Amazon and Jen basically brought us a brand-new opportunity to do that at a scale that’s never been attempted before.”

But in December 2021, with production well underway, the Russo brothers decided to replace showrunner Josh Appelbaum. “It was clear after some audience feedback and discussion that some changes needed to be made,” says Mike Larocca, president and co-founder of AGBO. “We felt like it needed some more character work early to draw people into the show. It was that straightforward.” Appelbaum declined to comment.

David Weil took over as showrunner. When Joe Russo came on set, a “huge bunch of material” was tossed out, an insider says. Sources say the cost of the series climbed toward $300 million, making it Amazon’s second-most expensive show after LOTR. (In an onstage March 10 conversation with Salke at SXSW, Priyanka Chopra said her work on Citadel was the first time she had achieved pay parity in 22 years. That prompted some Amazon executives to joke internally that this was actually the first and second time, since she and the other leads on the show got paid significantly more than planned due to the massive reshoots.)

Joseph Russo (R) and his brother Anthony Russo

Directors Anthony and Joe Russo are executive producers on Citadel, Amazon’s high-stakes, $300 million bet on a multinational franchise. SUJIT JAISWAL/AFP/GETTY IMAGES

While the original plan called for eight hourlong episodes, the show that will drop on Amazon in April ended up at six, roughly 40-minute episodes. Amazon has already renewed it for a second season of six hourlong episodes. “There are a couple of relationships where I don’t really understand the bet that is being made,” says one Amazon veteran of the commitment to the project. “But Jen believes in the Russos.”

The challenges on Citadel can happen with the “best-managed creative endeavors with the highest level of talent,” Salke says. “Given the choice of making it mediocre or fucking great — we made the right call there. And at the end of the day, our customers will be the judge.”

Hunters and A League of Their Own, which is ending with a truncated season two, stand out as expensive disappointments of the Salke era. The latter cost in the ballpark of $90 million for eight episodes, including a premium paid to Sony for certain rights.

What generates some of the frustration that sources cite in dealings with Amazon is that Salke, who was previously president of NBC Entertainment, seems to be pursuing conflicting goals. Despite her assertion that Amazon is “a home for talent,” insiders say the mandate is increasingly not on finding the kind of curated hit that defines HBO, but more middle-of-the-road, meat-and-potatoes shows like Jack Reacher. “We’re so desperate right now for safe hits,” an Amazon exec says. (Netflix has also been pursuing broader material.)

But at the same time, current and former Amazon executives say Salke has a pattern of “chasing what she perceives as hot,” as one insider puts it. That person cites as examples paying a premium for Daisy Jones because of the Witherspoon connection, or making a Dead Ringers series, based on the 1988 David Cronenberg film, that came with Rachel Weisz attached. Salke makes deals with auteur talent to “deliver Jack Reacher results,” says an Amazon veteran. “But they don’t.”

Amazon recently renewed The Peripheral, a sci-fi drama from Jonah Nolan and Lisa Joy that cost close to $175 million for eight episodes (sources say their final eight-episode season of Westworld at HBO cost about $140 million). Amazon has ordered six additional hours of The Peripheral despite what sources say has been lukewarm audience engagement. “It probably should have been canceled,” says an insider. “But they made a megadeal and the political capital they would lose with Lisa and Jonah would be too great. And they have other shows coming.” Fallout, the next show from Nolan and Joy, is also “extremely expensive,” says a source.

Nolan and Joy’s deal has been worth at least $20 million a year since they signed on in 2019. One insider calls the Nolan deal the worst example of Salke’s mantra that Amazon is “a home for talent.’” He adds: “We cede decisions to powerful producers. We hold the line on other producers who do great work for us.” Nolan and Joy declined to comment.

Some rich Amazon deals have failed to produce anything at all. In the wake of serving as an executive producer on Them, Lena Waithe got a two-year deal worth $8 million a year that yielded nothing; in November 2021, she moved her banner to HBO Max.

And in September 2019, Amazon announced a deal with Phoebe Waller-Bridge, who had just swept up six Emmys for the second season of Fleabag. The plan was for Waller-Bridge to collaborate with Donald Glover on a Mr. and Mrs. Smith series, based on the 2005 film.

But within a few months, Waller-Bridge departed the show due to clashing creative styles. Her three-year deal, at $20 million a year, bore no fruit, yet Amazon recently renewed it, announcing that Waller-Bridge would write (but not star in) a Tomb Raider series. Some Amazon insiders have questioned how much she will contribute to the project, noting that Amazon has been seeking a showrunner to help write and oversee it.

The low-key Sanders bristles a little at the assertion. “Phoebe has not only fully embraced Tomb Raider and I think is feeling very committed to it, but she’s in a writers room right now working on it,” he says. Waller-Bridge is developing other material for the streamer as well, he adds, “She’s a perfectionist, so she absolutely wants to make sure that what she does is great and right, but she’s proven that when she does deliver, she delivers.” Waller-Bridge declined to comment.

But a showrunner with considerable experience at Amazon sees it differently: “They don’t learn from their mistakes.

They [say], ‘We can’t do any more deals like that.’ You turn around and they’re right back to — the impolite term is ‘star-fucking.'

” For creative executives at the studio, the result has been exasperation. “They say, ‘We don’t want to buy from outside studios,’” says a former Amazon exec. “Then packages come and they buy everything that comes through the door, and our development is thrown out.” 

One of Salke’s early hires at Amazon was Sanders, who had worked very closely with her as head of current programming at NBC. At Amazon, Salke initially made him co-head and then sole head of television. Before coming to Amazon, Sanders was overseeing NBC shows that were already up and running rather than developing and launching shows. Some Amazon insiders complain that he doesn’t offer them enough in the way of direction.

Vernon Sanders

One of Salke’s first hires at Amazon was Vernon Sanders, now head of television for the studio. AMY SUSSMAN/GETTY IMAGES

“No one knows what he likes,” says a former executive at the streamer. In a similar vein, a producer who’s worked with Amazon says, “Vernon seems so sincere, but when you talk to him about a project, you come away not knowing where you stand. What kind of shows does he really care about making? At the end of the day, that makes it hard for talent to truly trust him.”

Sanders says his job is simply not to program for his own taste, echoing Salke’s point about the importance of international. “We have over 250 million global customers, so our goal is to program for everyone — we have a big, broad and diverse audience,” he says. “We see that as one of our strengths. We can produce global tentpoles as well as inventive, character-driven series, with plenty in between. And our customers welcome it all. That’s why Lord of the Rings and Swarm can co-exist and succeed on our service.”

Rings and Swarm can co-exist and succeed on our service.”

Another complaint is that Sanders relies heavily on feedback from focus groups, which tend to favor broad and less inclusive programming. Several Amazon insiders say the reliance on testing and data led to a clash late last summer, when an Amazon executive said in a marketing meeting for the series A League of Their Own that data showed audiences found queer stories off-putting and suggested downplaying those themes in materials promoting the show. Series co-creator Will Graham became greatly concerned about bias built into Amazon’s system for evaluating shows, which multiple sources say often ranked broad series featuring straight, white male leads above all others. One executive calls A League of Their Own “a proxy for how diverse and inclusive shows are treated.” 

Graham launched into an interrogation of the system, questioning multiple executives about it. Amazon took the issue seriously and dropped the system of ranking shows based on audience scores. Insiders cite this show as one that Sanders did passionately support, but for months after it dropped, there was no word on whether it would be renewed. Ultimately, Amazon agreed to a four-episode second and final season. Still, several Amazon veterans believe the system remains too dependent on those same test scores. “All this perpetuation of white guys with guns — it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy,” says one. And another: “Relying on data is soul crushing … There’s never, ‘I know the testing wasn’t that great, but I believe in this.'” Graham declined to comment.

One executive says it was different when Salke first took charge at Amazon. “She shot from the hip, she went with her gut, and she didn’t let data overrule her,” this person says. “But she hired a staff that was in over their heads in terms of being able to get those shows produced at a number. I think if we had [FX boss] John Landgraf or [HBO’s] Casey Bloys or somebody who had more credibility and direct interaction with the development of shows, it would be so much easier to spend less. But we kind of act like it doesn’t matter if we have deep conversations with talent. A guy like Donald Glover would think, ‘No way in hell I’m doing a deal with these guys unless they overpay me.’ I know we’re third or fourth on their priority list. Agents are direct about it: ‘You guys pay a premium for being Amazon.’ They have clients who would much rather work at other places.”

Salke responds: “If people say my gut’s been tamped down, there’s no evidence for that.”  

Even some producers who have successful television projects at Amazon say its executive structure remains confusing to the point of opacity. A recent reorganization — the latest of several — does not seem to have done much to clarify things. An executive at a production company that has done repeat business with Amazon says it’s hard to know “who you should go to if you want to bring [a project] to them.” Says a showrunner who has had success at the streamer: “I couldn’t honestly tell you who reports to whom. It keeps changing.” 

Some of the confusion around Amazon may arise from conflicting goals at the top. Mike Hopkins, Amazon’s senior vice president for Prime Video & Amazon Studios, is a seasoned business executive and a veteran of Sony and Hulu but does not come from the creative side. A top industry executive who dealt with him at Hulu calls him “a seemingly egoless, laid-back, efficient manager.” A former Amazon executive says Hopkins is a “very intelligent, very calm and collected leader, but all he seems to care about is the bottom line. He doesn’t understand a lot about production because he doesn’t come from that.” Hopkins declined to comment.

Salke is known as a charismatic leader who has “a great touch around talent,” says an agent. But one long-standing complaint is that she can be hard to reach and unresponsive to texts or emails. “I really like Jen,” says an executive whose company has done repeat business with Amazon. “When you get her, she’s really engaged. She’s obviously spread thin, but if you actually get her, you can get a pretty clear answer.” That issue might only be exacerbated as, in the past year, Salke has taken on responsibility for MGM’s film and television studios, as well as marketing oversight.

On the fundamental issue of money, Hopkins and Salke were destined to clash. “Her strategy is to get whatever seems hot. Mike’s vision was to cut costs on shows and get football,” says a former insider. In 2021, Amazon became the first streamer to make an exclusive deal with the NFL, signing an 11-year pact for exclusive rights to Thursday Night Football at $1 billion per season. Amazon’s sports chief, Jay Marine, told staff in a September note that the launch game produced “the biggest three hours for U.S. Prime sign ups ever in the history of Amazon.” But while the streamer had told advertisers it expected to average 12.5 million viewers per game, at the end of the season Amazon said it had 11.3 million viewers, while Nielsen calculated 9.6 million average viewers. Amazon has said it compensated advertisers for the shortfall but offered no specifics.  

In recent months, current and former Amazon executives say, Salke seemed to be in a political battle with Hopkins. “Mike is a lot about budgets and that’s not something she reacts well to,” says one. But a top executive at another entertainment company says his lack of creative experience hampers his ability to limit spending on shows and movies. “That’s why he says yes when Jen says we’ve got to pay Simon Kinberg $8 million for a project,” this person says. 

That’s a reference to the spy thriller Red Shirt, written by writer-producer Kinberg with Channing Tatum attached to star. The project, acquired in November based on a treatment and short video heavily featuring Tatum, had several bidders, but Amazon offered the richest overall package.

The film calls for Tatum to be paid $25 million, with a staggering $18 million for director David Leitch. Add in Kinberg’s $8 million for writing and producing services and the deal represents one of the highest, if not the highest, payment for an original pitch in Hollywood dealmaking history. Kinberg, Tatum and Leitch declined to comment.

And that’s only one of several pricey film bets that Amazon has made. Salke put in a preemptive bid for Air, the Nike movie with Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. Affleck says Salke was his point of contact during the making of the film and he found her to be “straightforward, and true to her word.” Salke “always had thoughtful ideas and notes,” he adds. “We took almost all of them.”  

But an executive at a competitor calls the deal for Air “crazy,” claiming, “She just bought it off a pitch, went in and bought it for $160 million.” (Industry sources say it cost far less to produce.) “Matt made more money on [Air] than any other movie but Bourne. She just took it off the table,” says the executive. (Affleck and Damon declined to comment on the deal.) Another source involved with the project says he’s certain some competitor would have matched the deal. While it’s uncertain the film, which has garnered critical acclaim, will gross enough at the box office to be profitable, the value of having it to lure subscribers to the streaming service may justify the expense. 

Recently, Salke has been perceived as pivoting toward film. Several Amazon sources believe there was a tug-of-war with Hopkins over who would have oversight of the MGM film studio. Initially, Hopkins intended to hire former Fox and Paramount executive Emma Watts and have her report to him. But then Watts — a seasoned but sometimes sharp-elbowed exec — was out of the picture, despite having gone through vetting. Amazon announced in November that Salke, not Hopkins, would have direct oversight of the film studio despite her very limited film experience. Amazon declined to comment on the switch.

Given Salke’s background in television, many in the film community assumed she would need to hire an executive with strong movie experience to oversee MGM films. But some Amazon insiders believe she wanted to give the job to Julie Rapaport, the executive in charge of original movies for the streamer. While Rapaport is well-liked, in the view of several outside movie execs, she lacks the experience to run MGM film. 

If Salke indeed wanted Rapaport in the job, there was one big snag. MGM’s crown jewel is the James Bond franchise, which is controlled by Barbara Broccoli. Sources say Broccoli made it clear that she needed an experienced movie executive at the helm of MGM’s film division. The sources also believe that Salke put her foot wrong with Broccoli by mentioning a possible Bond TV project, which Broccoli would not want. And following the acquisition of MGM’s distribution arm, they say, Broccoli was not impressed when weeks passed during which Amazon did not communicate with the longtime marketing and distribution executives who Broccoli sees as vital to handling the Bond films, leaving them in doubt as to whether they would keep their jobs. (A source says one of those executives, the late Erik Lomis, fought to move Creed III out of a crowded November to a March release date, giving Amazon a hit that has grossed $250 million.) Salke says, “We have deep respect for Barbara and Michael” — a reference to Michael G. Wilson, her Bond producing partner.  Broccoli did not respond to a request for comment.

Amazon went through a protracted who’s who of potential hires before settling on former Warner Bros. executive Courtenay Valenti. Sources say Salke was chilly to Valenti during the hiring process, which Salke denies. Valenti joins former longtime Warner Bros. executive Sue Kroll, who in October became head of marketing for Amazon Studios and MGM. Even Amazon critics say Salke made an excellent move in hiring Kroll, who brings a much-needed boost to promoting Amazon films and series. Now reunited, both Valenti and Kroll will report to Salke. 

Part of what irks some Amazon entertainment executives is that, as part of a supersized tech company, the studio must contend with an idiosyncratic culture that often doesn’t mesh with traditional Hollywood practices. (In a sense, Amazon the parent is as alien to Hollywood as previous outsiders who have come and gone: Coca-Cola, Matsushita, a wave of German investors.) Amazon culture manifests itself in many ways that go beyond the well-known everyone-flies-coach rule. The compensation system caps base cash pay at $350,000 for all employees (exclusive of signing bonuses) plus stock options, which for a high-level executive will make up the bulk of pay. The base pay cash ceiling was $160,000 until last year, when the cap was increased due to the declining stock price. Over the past 12 months, the stock has been down more than 35 percent. (In contrast, at Netflix, executives can decide what percentage of their compensation they will take in stock options.) 

“A lot of people there are not that incentivized to stick their necks out,” says an agent. “Everyone’s sort of marking time to get as much stock [to vest] as they can. That’s no way to run it. This is a hit-driven, risk-taking business.”

Another Amazon tradition: Only top executives have offices. Until this year, other high-level execs have worked in assigned cubicles. Since January, however, the vast majority have to contend with “agile seating,” meaning they work at unassigned cubbies in designated “neighborhoods,” and are provided with lockers for their belongings. “These things are coming from so high up [in the company],” says an Amazon Studios insider. “It just contributes to the sense of anonymity — that nobody knows where their own spaces and belongings are.” This arrangement seems to be in favor with some tech types; Jason Kilar was “adamant” about imposing a similar plan at HBO and HBO Max, according to a source, though equivalent top executives at Netflix do get offices.

Meanwhile, the broader company is now facing very public challenges: In January, Amazon announced the biggest workforce cuts in the company’s history, laying off more than 27,000 of its 1.6 million employees. So far, the studio has been spared, though a hiring freeze is in effect. 

Industry executives feel it’s imperative to keep as many buyers in the game as possible, and some worry that the NFL deal has shown Amazon a way to sign up subscribers in a way that is not as unpredictable as making scripted entertainment. Says one former insider, “In bringing Mike in, they wanted to keep Jen in check. Then you add sports and in 24 hours make more progress than in eight years of TV. The whole sports launch changed the prism of how they look at the ecosystem and what role film and TV and music plays into it.” 

So far, Amazon hasn’t hinted at any unhappiness with the return on its content spend, which was $7 billion on Amazon Originals, live sports and licensed third-party video content in 2022. That’s up 28 percent from the previous year, thanks in part to the cost of football and Lord of the Rings. (In comparison, Netflix spent about $18 billion.) According to Consumer Intelligence Research Partners, Amazon’s U.S. Prime subscribers stalled last year at 168 million, essentially flat from 2021. (The company last publicly disclosed a Prime subscriber number in 2021, when it said it had “over 200 million” globally.) 

During a February earnings call, Amazon CFO Brian Olsavsky sounded upbeat. “We regularly evaluate the return on the spend [on content] and continue to be encouraged by what we see, as video has proven to be a strong driver of Prime member engagement and new Prime member acquisition.” Speaking at a New York Times Dealbook summit in November, CEO Andy Jassy said he could see a possible future in which Amazon’s entertainment operations could work as a stand-alone business “with very attractive economics.” He added, “All of that content is a really important ingredient in why people choose to sign up to Prime.” But Amazon watchers might have noted that he mentioned Thursday Night Football in particular. The company will continue to invest in sports, he said, “a unique asset with an unrivaled ability to drive Prime sign-ups.”

Additional reporting by Lesley Goldberg.

Maybe this will clear things up. Maybe not. Jennifer Salke is married to Bert Salke, Head of Fox 21. His reps:

Agent: United Talent Agency, 9560 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 500, Beverly Hills, CA 90212.; Office: Brancato/Salke Productions, 5300 MelroseAve., Suite 229 East, Los Angeles, CA 90038.

Some or maybe all of what's going on at Amazon Prime, frankly looks like straight up money laundering, to several outfits in Hollywood, either willingly or unwillingly. United Talent Agency has so far tried screwing over talents like Johnny Depp and Benedict Cumberbatch. A number of actors left the agency and it's because they have a longstanding, close relationship with the Church. No fucking wonder I'm staring at Tom Cruise's face every time I go on the Amazon Prime or old Simon Pegged movies, out front and center for hot picks.

While I'm not a fan a big fan of this guy, Disparu (uses the word Woke in tye negative and seems to have a soft spot for Tom Cruise) he makes some very straightforward points about the craziness of paying Phoebe Waller-Bridge $20 million per year to do fuck all. And Bridge is only big in Britain. So, I'm not the only one who's wondered at the overhyping. It could only be from powerful outfits like COS or Lavender Mafia.

[anxiousgaypanicking]

ALSO

there should be a smut version of a reverse bang

ton of people make sanders sides smut art and then fic writers write fics based on the smut art and BOOM twice the smut pics AND fics

somebody should create a sanders sides smut event where all the authors write either

really fucking self-indulgent smut fics/shots where its all tuned to stuff THEYRE super into so more stuff they like is introduced into the fandom

fics for OTHER smut authors that are them all experimenting with maybe kinks theyve never written before by writing smut fics for these OTHER talented authors so its like a huge sexy gift exchange

[prism-sakura-s]

my entry for @sanderssidesfanfiction​ ‘s ts reverse bang! i was paired with @bee-nice-to-bees , whose work gave me a great prompt and idea to work with, so i thank both of you for letting me participate! sorry i’m a little late, and this sucks especially towards the end, but i’m just glad it’s all done. 

~

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 7,670

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Summary: Remus tries to fight through the challenges of their childhood leading up to college. All they have to accompany them is their brother Roman and his cousin Virgil, who lost his parents.

Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders. Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit Sanders

Additional Tags: sanders sides reverse bang, ts reverse bang, rushed so the ending sucks really bad, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, though it's kinda mild, Abusive Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, cursing, virgil is roman and remus' cousin, roman has a crush on deceit towards the end, deceit is ethan in this btw, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

Stars in Our Eyes and Hearts on Fire

A/N: So @sanderssidesfanfiction organized a Reverse Big Bang, and I’m so excited to finally unveil my fic based on @incubchii​‘s wonderful fanart! Huge huge thanks to my beta, @bangthekobrakid​, who I couldn’t have done this without! Anyway, without further ado, enjoy the fic (it’s a wild ride, and is probably both the angstiest and the fluffiest thing I’ve written)!

Pairings: endgame Romantic Analogince, Familial Moxiety, Romantic Remile

Wordcount: 10,922

Summary: Logan was a witch of great power- but also of great regret. One night, while flying over the city on his broom, he notices that his former flame was in trouble. Logan swoops in to save the day, and things only get more complicated from there. Can he and his newfound friends, a pair of twin brothers, save his once lost love from being hunted?

Warnings: breakups, feelings of regret, violence, injury, torture, attempted murder, death mention, passing out, kissing, anxious thoughts, food mention, distrust, magical exhaustion, crying, pain delirium, mild jealousy, thoughts of guilt, implied rough childhood, attempted stabbing, minor villain Deceit (he’s only in one scene), blood, relationship negotiations, soft makeouts, implied NSFW, mild insomnia, embarrassment, playful teasing, nearly getting crushed, cursing (lmk if anything should be added!)

The wind ruffled Logan’s hair, threatening to blow away his pointed hat, while the stars twinkled above him and filled his very being with magic. It wasn’t the most logical thing to be doing, flying on his broomstick over the city, but Logan didn’t care. Being up there, it felt right. Even if the people below him could potentially see him up there, thus exposing the regulars to magic, Logan felt it was worth it. He was feeling particularly reckless tonight… if only Roman could see him now.

Logan huffed, shifting so that he was leaning back on his broom, idly twirling his staff between his fingers while his other hand adjusted his hat. Why did his train of thought always shift to the hot-headed magma-witch? Was there nothing that didn’t make Logan’s heart twist painfully with the memory of Roman? He was supposed to be glad that he was rid of that unfairly gorgeous idiot. Yet, all he felt was regret.

Logan and Roman had studied magic together under the same master witch. Roman was a witch bound to two elements: fire and earth. Meanwhile, Logan was one of the rarest witch types: an astro-witch, bound to the celestial. The two of them had bonded over their oddities, making quite the unlikely pair. Logan had always studied hard, desperately wanting to live up to his title of astro-witch, meanwhile Roman was quite the show-off, flaunting both his earth and fire skills with no uncertainty. Such differences… it tore the two of them apart. And after their training was finished, things didn’t end well, and Logan hadn’t talked to or seen Roman since.

A sudden spark of red magic burst past Logan, nearly throwing him off of his broom. He quickly righted himself, turning to glare up at the spark that was shooting higher in the sky. It burst into a fiery explosion of reds and golds, and Logan’s heart clenched with fear. That was undoubtedly Roman’s magic. His gaze shot down to where the spark came from, and a horrified gasp choked its way out of his throat. Down below, in an alleyway, a swirling mass of shadow lashed at a beacon of red and gold. The bright beacon of light was flickering in and out, the shadows threatening to overtake it.

“Roman,” Logan gasped, eyes narrowing as he zoomed back towards the beacon of light and the shadows surrounding it.

The shadowy figures crept closer. Roman held his side with one hand, while the other was outstretched, magical flames dancing in his palm. He wasn’t sure how, but an entire band of shadow-witches had managed to jump him while he was on the way to visit two of his closest friends. Now Roman found himself cornered in an alleyway, his magic dangerously close to being depleted.

A sudden wave of shadows flew at Roman, and he desperately tried to summon a wall of flames to shield himself, but he was too late. The mass of shadows hit him square in the chest, and he was flung against the alleyway wall. Pain flared through his body, and the air was knocked from his lungs. He fell to the ground, dazed for a moment or two before desperately scrambling to his feet. His vision blurred and he stumbled to one side, eliciting cruel laughter from the shadow-witches.

“What’s the matter, sweet Prince?” one of them sneered. Tendrils of shadows shot out, wrapping around Roman and pinning his arms to his sides. He squirmed, trying to break free, but the shadows clenched tightly around him, causing the magma-witch to cry out in pain and fall to his knees. One of the witches came closer to Roman, summoning a sword made of shadows as they walked. The point was put beneath Roman’s chin, forcing him to meet the figure’s dark eyes.

“Roman Prince. You will pay for what you’ve done,” they snarled.

“Which would be what, exactly?” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion. The figure growled, making a clenching motion with their free hand. Roman let out a pained yelp as the shadows cinched around him tighter.

“Don’t play innocent. You deserve this,” the figure hissed, and they raised the sword above their head, preparing to strike.

Suddenly, a bright bolt of light threw the figure to the side. Roman’s head whipped to the side, and his breath caught in his throat. Logan hovered just above the ground on his broom, staff brandished in front of him. He had a powerful aura about him, starlight twinkling dangerously in his eyes. He was more gorgeous than Roman remembered.

“Take care of Prince! I will deal with this interruption,” the figure snarled, jumping to their feet and summoning another shadow-sword. One of the figures flanking Roman nodded curtly, and in two brisk strides, they were in front of Roman, their hands pulsing with some sort of dark energy. He desperately tried to squirm away, but the shadows held him fast. The figure placed one hand on either side of Roman’s head, and the magma-witch screamed in pain. The dark energy pulsed through his skull, and Roman’s world was narrowed to the pure pain radiating through him.

In an instant, the pain was gone, as well as the shadowy tendrils keeping him bound, and Roman felt himself falling forward. A set of arms caught him, and Roman blearily tried to scramble away until he heard a soft and painstakingly familiar voice murmuring words of comfort. Through the pain-induced haze, Roman looked up and saw Logan, instinctively reaching out to caress the astro-witch’s cheek.

“Starshine?” he gasped weakly. A flush overcame Logan’s cheeks, and he covered Roman’s hand on his face with his own.

“Roman, you’re hurt- I need to heal you… but I’m not sure-”

“I have friends nearby… Patton and Virgil, a pair of twins- healers,” Roman hurriedly tried to explain, feeling his grip on consciousness fading fast.

“Patton and Virgil who? Where do they live?” Logan pressed, eyes wide and his expression becoming fearful.

“Picani,” Roman gasped out, the world around him and Logan’s face- his almost painfully beautiful face- fading in and out of focus. The astro-witch was pleading with him, possibly begging him to stay awake, but Roman couldn’t quite catch Logan’s words. With one last burst of strength, and before he could truly think about what he was doing, Roman leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of Logan’s mouth. The astro-witch’s face flushed deeper, and Roman smiled softly, glad that he at least got him flustered one last time. And with that wistful thought, the magma-witch’s eyes fluttered shut, and he fell limp in Logan’s arms.

Virgil Picani sat on the roof of the joint apartment and tea shop he shared with his brother, Patton, and stared up at the stars. Shadows curled around him restlessly, and he sighed in frustration. Being a shadow-witch had its disadvantages, he supposed. One of them being that the shadows tended to darken around him because of his emotions.

“Need some tea, kiddo?” a voice piped up from behind him. Virgil jumped at the sound but looked over his shoulder to see his brother Patton, a solar-witch, standing behind him. He held two mugs of steaming tea, offering one of them to Virgil. He took the offered cup with a smile, and the shadows cleared slightly as he took a sip.

“Chamomile and lavender? You’re turning into Dad,” Virgil joked.

“Aw, Virge! Don’t tea-se me like that!” Patton replied, grinning from ear to ear as he sat down beside him.

“Ugh. You really are becoming Dad,” Virgil groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Patton retorted with a giggle.

“Nah. But if you start wearing colorful ties and cardigans, I’m staging an intervention.”

“But Virgil… I already wear cardigans!” Virgil let out a dramatic gasp at that, grabbing Patton’s shoulder.

“Patton, it may be too late for you! You’re turning into Dad!” he said with a laugh.

“Don’t you mean I’m evolving into a dad?” Patton grinned.

“Cartoon references! It may be too late!” Virgil cried, dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

“Technically Pokemon is a video game.”

“There was a cartoon too, I’m counting it,” Virgil scoffed. A comfortable silence settled between the brothers, and Virgil idly sipped at his tea. The shadows had finally calmed behind him.

“So. What’s got ya so restless?” Patton asked.

“I’m not restless,” Virgil protested. Patton raised an eyebrow, and the shadows twitched defensively behind him.

“You’re sitting on the rooftop, and the shadows were just swirling around you. Something’s got you worried,” he pointed out. Virgil let out a sigh, and took another sip of his tea.

“It’s Roman. He should have been here an hour ago.” Roman Prince was a good friend of theirs and often met up with the Picani brothers to hang out or discuss magic. It was also no secret that Virgil was harboring a bit of a crush on the magma-witch, but Roman was either clueless or didn’t care. Virgil tended to believe the latter, but Patton was pretty confident in the former of the two.

“Aw, well you know Roman! Probably got distracted, and he’ll tell us about his adventure when he gets here!” Patton exclaimed. Virgil’s lips quirked up into half a smirk, and he took another sip of his tea.

Suddenly, a burst of red magic shot up into the sky, just a few blocks away from Patton and Virgil’s apartment. Virgil’s heart clenched in his chest. That was Roman’s magic, no doubt. A flash of blue shot down towards where the magic originated from, and the shadows around Virgil pulsed with fear.

“Patton-”

“It’ll be okay, don’t panic, Virge,”  Patton soothed.

“Don’t panic?! This a perfect time to panic! Roman must be in trouble,” Virgil exclaimed as he shot up to his feet. He stormed over to the door that led to their apartment, flinging it open before descending down the stairs. He practically flew through their apartment, grabbing his cloak off the hook before going down another set of stairs that led to the tea shop that Virgil and Patton owned. The brothers had named it Quali-tea Time, although the name was more Patton’s idea than Virgil’s. But Virgil didn’t have time to think about their adorable tea shop. Roman was in trouble.

“Virgil, wait!” Patton exclaimed. Virgil halted in his steps, having just affixed his cloak around his shoulders. He cast a glance back at his brother, who had his pointy gray hat clutched in one hand, and his wooden staff in the other. It was topped with a sun shape made of gold, with an orb in the center that glowed a soft yellow.

“Sorry. I just-”

“You’re worried, it’s okay. We’ll get him,” Patton soothed, placing his hat on his head firmly. Virgil nodded curtly, and the twins headed out into the night.

Logan’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled a limp Roman in his arms. For maybe the first time in his life, Logan felt completely clueless. Helpless, even. He barely knew any healing magic, and he doubted he could find the brothers that Roman had mentioned in time. The name Picani was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t place why and his brain was too frazzled to try and remember. All he could focus on was the soft, adoring smile Roman gave him before unconsciousness snatched him away. And, of course, the kiss that had sent fire skittering along veins and heat to Logan’s cheeks. How was it possible that Roman could be so alluring, even while battered and half-dead?

“Get away from him!” a voice snarled from the mouth of the alleyway. Logan gasped, placing Roman on the ground and springing to his feet. He took a defensive stance in front of him, brandishing his staff at the two figures that had stepped into the alleyway. One wore a hooded black cloak with purple patches, and shadows twitched around them restlessly. The other figure seemed to be the polar opposite, as they wore a light blue polo, a gray cardigan over their shoulders, and khakis. The only sign that they were magical was the pointed gray hat on their head, and the sun staff they held in one hand.

“Who are you, what do you want with him?!” Logan cried.

“Could ask the same about you,” the hooded figure growled. The shadows curled towards Logan menacingly, and he sent a warning blast of starlight from his staff in response. The shadows jumped back, as well as the two figures in the alleyway.

“An astro-witch?” the hooded figure gasped in surprise.

“Please, we’re Roman’s friends, we just want him back!” the individual with the gray hat pleaded. Logan furrowed his brow, magic simmering dangerously in the air.

“He was just nearly killed by a band of shadow-witches. Why would I trust another one?” Logan snarled.

“We’re two of his best friends, I’m Patton Picani and this is my twin brother, Virgil! We’re both gifted in healing magic, let me heal him and prove to you that we don’t wanna hurt him!” the one with the gray hat exclaimed. Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. These two were the brothers Roman had wanted him to find.

“Pat, you sure we can-”

“You’re the friends he wanted me to find,” Logan gasped, interrupting Virgil.

“Aww, he mentioned us?!” Patton squealed.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth? That he really told you about us?” Virgil demanded.

“My name is Logan Andromeda. Roman and I studied under the same master witch,” Logan explained, a little exasperated. He didn’t have time for this- Roman didn’t have time for this.

“The master witch, what was their name?” Virgil pressed.

“Thomas, Thomas Sanders. He’s a solar-witch,” Logan answered. Virgil and Patton seemed to share a sigh of relief.

“Okay. Your information seems to check out, although I’m not sure if I really trust you yet… but we don’t have a choice,” Virgil said, tone grim. Logan nodded curtly, and he stepped to the side to let the brothers take a look at Roman. Virgil darted over, dropping to his knees beside Roman. He placed a hand on his forehead, brow furrowing in confusion.

“What the hell happened to him?” he murmured.

“Like I said, he was attacked by a band of shadow-witches. I believe there was four or five of them that had ganged up on him. When I arrived, one of them was about to strike Roman down with a shadow-sword they had summoned. I disarmed them fairly quickly, but they had commanded one of the others to ‘deal with him.’ They attacked him with some sort of dark energy-” Logan’s voice cut off as Roman’s screams of pain echoed in his memory. “After I had dealt with them, the others scattered and ran off.”

“Thank you for saving him, Logan,” Patton replied, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze before kneeling next to Roman as well. He closed his eyes and placed a hand on the magma-witch’s chest. A soft glow emanated from Patton, and it began to seep into Roman’s body. He shuddered as the energy flowed into him, and his eyes fluttered open as he drew in a sharp breath. Logan could have sobbed in relief.

Patton suddenly slumped into his brother, the soft glow fading away. Virgil wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, expression twisted with concern.

“M’kay. I’m okay,” Patton insisted, voice slurring slightly as he tried to sit up.

“Hey, whoa, no you’re not. What did you do?” Virgil asked, supporting him as he sat up a bit straighter.

“Roman was… he was- closer to… closer to d-death than we-” Patton broke off into sobs, leaning against Virgil heavily.

“Pat? What’s-” Roman gasped out weakly.

“The loveable dork that is my brother nearly depleted his magic saving you,” Virgil huffed out with a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Logan found you… I knew he would,” Roman sighed, his voice soft and wistful.

“It… It was more like they found me, actually,” Logan chuckled.

“Smaaaart friends,” Roman said, voice slurring a bit.

“Get some rest, Roman. We’ll take you back to our place,” Virgil said with a soft laugh, reaching out to brush Roman’s hair from his eyes. Roman sighed, leaning into the touch. An unfamiliar emotion twisted in Logan’s gut. Were Virgil and Roman… together? It certainly seemed so, with how fiercely protective Virgil was of Roman. But then why had Roman kissed him? Perhaps he was too disoriented when Logan found him?

“Logan, can you take Roman? I’m gonna help Patton,” Virgil said, snapping Logan from his thoughts. He nodded, willing his staff away before walking over to Roman’s other side and scooping him up into his arms. He clung to Logan, nuzzling into his chest with a hum. Logan’s face flushed, and his gaze flicked over to Virgil. The shadow-witch seemed mildly annoyed but didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet, with Patton’s arm over his shoulder to support him.

“Where are we headed?” Logan asked.

“Our place. It’s a tea shop with our apartment above it. It’s only a few blocks from here, can you carry him that far?” Virgil asked.

“Yes. I am stronger than I appear, and Roman isn’t that heavy anyhow,” Logan replied. Roman made an indignant sound, muttering something about not being a feather-light damsel in distress. Virgil and Logan chuckled at that, and even Patton let out a light giggle.

“C’mon. Let’s go home.”

Somewhere along their journey, Roman had passed out again, this time from sheer exhaustion instead of pain. Virgil had convinced Patton to climb on his back, and the solar-witch had quickly slumped into unconsciousness, his face nuzzled into the crook of Virgil’s neck.

Eventually, they reached the home of the Picani brothers. The sign above the door read “Quali-tea Time”, and had a picture of a smiling teapot pouring out tea. Logan also noted that the door was painted in rainbow colors, and the sight caused a smile to quirk up on his lips.

Virgil shifted around a bit awkwardly for a moment or two, eventually fishing out a key from within his cloak. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, silently beckoning for Logan to follow him. Once inside, Virgil shut and locked the door behind him, while Logan took in the tea shop. Although the lights weren’t on, Logan was fairly certain the shop was filled with pastel shades and rainbows, if the exterior was anything to go by. There was a counter with barstools at it, where customers could order and pay for their tea. Shelves with various types of tea lined the walls, and there was a plush seating area with a fireplace off in one corner.

“C’mon. Our apartment is upstairs,” Virgil said, heading to a door towards the back of the shop. He opened it to reveal a set of stairs, and he adjusted his grip on Patton before heading up. Logan continued to follow him, being mindful of the unconscious magma-witch in his arms. Virgil flicked the light on when he reached the top, and Patton let out a sleepy, confused sound.

“It’s alright Pat, we’re home,” Virgil soothed, smiling softly to himself. The expression seemed almost… strange, on the shadow-witch’s face. Virgil hadn’t done more than scowl or frown since Logan had met him, and this soft, shy smile made an emotion that he couldn’t quite place unfurl in his chest. It was shockingly similar to what he once felt when he gazed at Roman, before harsh words were flung and the mere thought of the magma-witch’s dazzling smile only brought pain and regret.

“You can- uh, lay him down on the couch. It’s just past the kitchen nook… follow me,” Virgil said, snapping Logan from his thoughts. His face flushed slightly, and he hoped Virgil didn’t notice that he was staring at him. Why had he even felt such things about Virgil? Logan was still hung up on Roman, wasn’t he? Nothing made sense, but he pushed those thoughts aside and followed Virgil deeper into his apartment.

They walked through a small kitchenette area, and made their way over to a seating area with a couch nearly overloaded with pillows. The couch was set across from a television, and Logan could picture Roman and the Picani brothers sitting down among the many pillows and watching movies. Virgil clumsily cleared the couch, pillows flopping unceremoniously onto the floor.

“I’ll tidy that up in a sec, just lay Roman down for now. I’m going to get Patton to bed,” Virgil said, walking over to a door past the seating area. Logan nodded, although Virgil couldn’t see it. He walked over to the couch, leaning down and gently depositing Roman onto it. He instantly snuggled down into the couch, letting out a sleepy sigh. A small smile wormed its way onto Logan’s lips at the sight.

“How is he?” Virgil asked, causing Logan to jump. He hadn’t realized that Virgil had re-entered the room.

“I think he’ll be alright, just needs some time to recover. How is your brother?” Logan asked. Virgil huffed out a laugh.

“He’s pretty zonked out right now, but okay,” he replied. An awkward silence settled between the two, until Logan noticed the shadows shyly creeping closer and shuffling the pillows into a pile beside the couch.

“You could have just walked over and done that,” Logan teased.

“Hey, gotta get rid of this nervous energy somehow,” Virgil shot back.

“I suppose,” Logan replied, fighting back a yawn.

“Are you tired? The pillows make for a nice napping spot, I know from experience,” Virgil replied with a teasing smile.

“That… actually sounds like a good idea,” Logan said with a yawn, arms stretching above his head. Virgil’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“You seem… awfully trusting of us,” Virgil said, suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Roman trusts you. Plus there is something… familiar, about your names. Specifically, your last name,” Logan replied. Virgil chuckled slightly, a blush creeping onto his face.

“Yeah… our Dad is Emile Picani,” he replied sheepishly. Logan gasped in realization. No wonder their names seemed so familiar to him. Emile Picani was a well-renowned herbal-witch, and his healing magic was legendary.

“I wasn’t aware that he had sons… it must be quite the reputation to live up to,” Logan commented.

“Yeah, that combined with our Pop being a dream-witch… growing up was interesting. But they never expected us to be like them, Dad always emphasized that we weren’t defined by who he and Pop were,” he answered with a shrug.

“A dream-witch?!” Logan gasped. Astro-witches like himself were incredibly rare, but dream-witches even more so. They could manipulate dreams and cause people to fall asleep with a single touch… such power was unheard of and often abused.

“Yeah… Dad met him soon after taking in Patton and I. His name’s Remy Picani- well, formerly Remy Morpheus. But then he married Dad and the rest is history I guess,” Virgil continued. A silence settled over the two as Logan let the information sink in. Something in Virgil’s tone implied that he and Patton had been through a lot, but he wasn’t certain that this was the time to press the subject.

“Well, guess I’ve bothered you enough. You get some rest, I’ll be in my room,” Virgil said, gesturing to a door back towards the kitchen area.

“Of course. Goodnight, Virgil.”

“Night.” The shadow-witch left the living room, shadows curling after him. As Logan watched him leave, he vaguely wondered how his life had managed to get so complicated so fast. With a sigh, he flopped into the soft pile of pillows and drifted to sleep almost instantly.

Roman’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up- or how he even fell asleep in the first place. His memory was a foggy mess… there was a fight- Logan was there? Patton and Virgil, too. He was in the Picani brothers’ apartment. But what woke him-

Someone was suddenly on top of him, their hand clasping over his nose and mouth, while their knee dug into his stomach. He let out a muffled cry of surprise, and his eyes widened at the glint of a blade in the darkness. He struggled beneath the figure in vain as it got harder to breathe, and the blade drew closer to his chest, just above his heart- he couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t be the damsel in distress again. A small burst of flames sputtered from his hand, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough to throw his attacker off of him. They slammed into the wall, but were back on their feet in an instant. Glowing golden eyes glinted at him in the darkness, and Roman scrambled backwards in fear, ending up falling to the floor with a loud thump. The sound startled what he had previously believed to be a pile of pillows, but was instead Logan.

“Roman, what’s-” his sentence cut off as he saw the fear in Roman’s eyes, and he quickly sprung to his feet, conjuring his staff in an instant. His gaze swiveled about, trying to find the source of Roman’s distress. The figure behind Logan crept closer, and the magma-witch’s eyes widened.

“Behind you,” he gasped out. Logan whirled around, and the attacker slashed at him with their blade. He cried out, stumbling backwards for a moment before regaining his footing. Logan glared at the golden-eyed witch, and sent a burst of starlight from his staff. They were thrown back once again, but sprang to their feet again and snarled at him in frustration.

Suddenly, before the attacker had a chance to try and strike Logan down, the shadows whipped out at them, disarming them and binding their hands behind their back. Roman glanced over to see Virgil standing a few feet behind him, and he practically melted in relief. Virgil gave Roman a small smile, which for whatever reason made his heart flutter ever so slightly. But before he could contemplate that, Virgil’s expression twisted into a scowl as he regarded the attacker.

“Kiddos? What’s going on?” Patton said, having emerged from his room at the sound of all the chaos. He had a fluffy blue blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his hair was unruly from being asleep.

“This individual broke in and tried to kill Roman. I managed to hold them off for a time, but luckily Virgil came in and restrained them,” Logan explained, his voice slightly breathless.

“Logan, are you okay?” Patton asked.

“I’m fine. Let’s just find out who the attacker is,” Logan said dismissively. Patton looked like he wanted to protest, but summoned a small sphere of light in his hands. It cast the room in a warm glow, and allowed them to see who the golden-eyed witch was.

The figure was a man who wore a black cloak edged with yellow trimming, and had dark hair that fell into his golden eyes. A jagged scar ran over half of his face, trailing from the top of his forehead to his lip. His blade, now discarded on the floor, was a curved dagger with twin snakes twining around the hilt.

“Who are you?” Virgil growled.

“No one of importance,” the figure hummed, sounding bored.

“I’d consider rewording your statement,” Logan said cooly, his staff humming with magic. The figure swallowed nervously, then let out a pained sound as the shadows clenched unexpectedly for a moment.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” Virgil snarled. He rolled his eyes, huffing out a sigh.

“Fine. The name’s Declan,” he replied smoothly.

“Why did you attack Roman?” Logan demanded.

“You know, I’d love to stand here and answer your questions all night, but I have a job to do,” Declan snarled, and his dagger flew to his hand. He tried to slash through his bonds, but the blade merely slipped through them, not breaking their hold. A shadowy tendril shot out and snatched the blade from his hand, bringing it over to Virgil.

“Dude, they’re shadows. You can’t cut through those. But good to know that you must be an earth-witch with a particular talent in metal manipulation,” Virgil said with a smirk. Declan scowled, squirming in the shadowy bonds.

“Are you in league with that band of shadow-witches?” Patton asked, his voice firm and eyes almost cold, a strange phenomenon for the solar-witch.

“What?! Those idiots? Oh please, I’m a solo assassin. I don’t need those morons,” Declan huffed.

“Thanks for telling us you’re an assassin. Now, why are there people after Roman?” Virgil pressed. Declan cursed under his breath, clearly frustrated that he had given himself away.

“Hell if I should know. Prince did something to piss someone off, and now there’s a rich bounty waiting for any assassin who kills him,” he replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

“But I haven’t-” Roman’s voice cut off with a pained gasp as he tried to sit up.

“Roman!” Virgil gasped, eyes wide with concern. Unfortunately, Virgil’s sudden flash of panic at Roman’s condition caused his hold on Declan to slip for the briefest of moments. But that was all the assassin needed, breaking free of the shadows and summoning his dagger to his hand.

“Well, this has been fun, but the bounty is not worth this much trouble,” Declan scowled, before turning around and leaping out the open window.

“I’ll go after him,” Logan declared, but only managed to take a step forward before he winced and fell to his knees, hand clutching at his side.

“Logan!” Virgil cried out, rushing over to Logan before dropping to his knees beside him.

“M’fine,” Logan protested weakly, before he slumped against Virgil, eyes fluttering.

“Bullshit. You’re holding your side… he managed to get a hit on you, didn’t he?” Virgil pressed. Logan shifted uncomfortably for a moment, until Roman shuffled closer to both of them, expression twisted with concern.

“Jus’ a scratch,” Logan muttered, moving his hand. Both Roman and Virgil’s eyes widened as they saw the jagged cut running across his side, and the red rapidly blooming from it and onto his polo. With hardly a second thought, Virgil closed his eyes and ran his hand along the cut. Shadows trailed after it, before settling into Logan’s skin and leaving a mere scar behind. He let out a shaky breath once the cut was healed, opening his eyes.

“There. It’s no light-healing magic like Patton’s, but it gets the job done. You’ll probably feel a little sore and weak for a few days,” Virgil said with an apologetic hum.

“S’okay. Thank you,” Logan said softly, clasping his hand over Virgil’s. A light flush overcame the shadow-witch’s face, and Roman felt his heart thud the slightest bit faster in his chest.

“You’re- uh, you’re welcome,” Virgil stuttered, eyes darting around frantically, unsure of where to look. Logan smiled, and gave Virgil’s hand a comforting squeeze. Virgil met Logan’s gaze for a moment, then switched to look at Roman. The magma-witch had pink dusting across his cheeks as well, and lips parted in a somewhat surprised expression. This only caused Virgil to flush deeper, and let out a light chuckle. An emotion Roman couldn’t place settled over the three of them. It was strangely warm, and almost caring. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop.

Patton watched the nearly silent exchange between his brother, Roman, and Logan with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He could see what was happening as clear as day, but the three of them had absolutely no idea. Which was even more amusing, considering Patton had no desire for romance, dating, or anything of the sort.

“I think you three have something to talk about,” Patton piped up, breaking the tender moment.

“What?!” Roman spluttered, gaze whipping over to Patton. The solar-witch merely giggled in response, slipping the fluffy blue blanket off of his shoulders and draping it over the back of the couch.

“I’m aroace, not blind, Roman. I see what’s going on here,” Patton replied with a grin. A surprised squeak escaped Roman’s lips, while Virgil gestured uselessly behind him. Meanwhile, Logan seemed to be silently unraveling Patton’s words.

“But-”

“I’m not saying you have to talk anything out, but you probably should before things get… interesting. I’m betting people aren’t going to stop coming after Roman, so I’m going to go get some help,” Patton said, finger-combing his unruly locks as he began to walk out of the living room.

“Patton, you’re still recovering from healing Roman!” Virgil protested.

“I’ve gotten some rest, I’ll be fine. This can’t wait. Besides, Dad and Pop aren’t too far away,” Patton said, summoning his staff in one hand, and his broom in the other. Virgil frowned, but let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine. But be careful. And don’t forget your hat.”

“My hat!” Patton cried out, shifting his broom under one arm, then holding out his now free hand. His bedroom door flew open, his gray pointed hat zipping out and into his hand. Patton put on his hat with a determined smile, then took his broom in hand once more.

“I’ll be back soon. You three should talk. Love you!” Patton said, rushing out of their apartment, leaving the three witches to stare after him in mild bewilderment.

Logan mulled over what Patton had said. He wasn’t entirely sure of what the solar-witch was implying, but he had a niggling feeling that it had to do with… well, feelings. It was clear there was something between Roman and Virgil. And, much as it pained him to admit, Logan still cared deeply for Roman, in spite of everything that had happened. Not to mention that there was something about Virgil that just seemed to draw Logan in.

“There’s something I must confess to the both of you,” Roman blurted, before either of them could say anything. Virgil and Logan exchanged wary glances.

“Well… perhaps we should move to the couch, first,” Logan proposed, starting to rise to his feet. Roman and Virgil nodded, flushing slightly before standing up and making their way to the couch. Roman sat down in the middle, with Virgil at his left, and Logan at his right.

“So… uh, what was it you wanted to tell us?” Virgil asked, fidgeting with the ends of his cloak.

“Well… the first thing is that- that I… I really still care about you, Logan. I know I said some awful things… we both did. But I didn’t realize just how much I still cared about you until you saved me. Twice,” Roman said, looking down at his hands, which were nervously folding and unfolding. “And yet… I find myself caring deeply for Virgil as well.”

“What?!” Virgil shouted in surprise, cheeks flushing red.

“I know, I know. It’s strange, but true. I care for both of you. Very much,” Roman uttered softly, brown eyes warm and earnest. Virgil’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, the shadow-witch unsure of how to respond.

“Roman… I must confess that I too, still care for you very much. And perhaps the reason things didn’t work out before is that we were missing something. Someone,” Logan replied, flicking his gaze up to Virgil.

“I… what?” Virgil gasped, looking incredibly flustered. Roman’s reaction seemed to be more or less the same, except for the excited glint in his eyes.

“I’ve never been one for the ‘love at first sight’ sentiment, but there’s just… something about you, Virgil, that makes me want to reconsider,” Logan confessed softly. Virgil’s blush grew darker, if possible, and Roman looked like he was about ready to squeal with excitement.

“I… um…”

“I’ll admit, you came off as tough, powerful, and fearsome when I first met you, but there’s an underlying softness to you that is…” Logan’s sentence was cut off by Virgil suddenly surging across the couch, taking his face in his hands, and pulling him into a deep kiss. Logan made a startled sound, but quickly sank into the kiss. Virgil pulled away, a bit too soon for Logan’s liking, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have-” Virgil’s sentence cuts off as he suddenly realizes he’s practically in Roman’s lap, the magma witch having wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist.

“It’s alright, Virge. I don’t think Logan minded,” Roman said with a smirk.

“Ugh. That’s- that’s not- this is complicated. Roman, I feel like I’ve had a crush on you since forever, but I don’t- I’m not sure how I feel about Logan. But I just kissed him, and I really liked it- I don’t really know what I’m feeling,” Virgil rambled.

“Virgil, a kiss doesn’t have to be a commitment. If you’d rather just remain friends, I am fine with that. But for the record… I enjoyed kissing you as well,” Logan soothed, a slight flush over his cheeks.

“I think… I think I want to try. A relationship. With the two of you. I’m just scared,” Virgil said, refusing to meet either witch’s gaze.

“I’m scared too. But I think what we have, what we could be- it’s worth the fear,” Roman said, one hand rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“You’re scared? But you’re… you’re you! Brave and reckless… and- and all that stuff!” Virgil exclaimed. Roman chuckled, tugging Virgil the slightest bit closer to him.

“Oh Virgil… I’m afraid more often than you would think. I talk about going on grand adventures… but they can be terrifying. The fear of not coming home after a quest… but that’s what makes them an adventure. And in the end, it’s worth it. To have won, and to return with a noble story,” Roman declared, voice soft and eyes shining.

“Can you stop being so adorably dramatic? It just makes me wanna kiss you,” Virgil grumbled, but there was a soft, adoring look in his eyes.

“Guess I’ll just have to be more dramatic, if that’ll finally get you to kiss me,” Roman smirked.

“Shut up,” Virgil murmured, looping his arms around Roman’s neck and pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss. Roman seemed to melt for a moment, letting out a satisfied sound against Virgil’s lips. The arm around Virgil’s waist tightened, while the other hand reached up to run through his hair, causing a shiver to run up Virgil’s spine. He let out a sound akin to a moan, and Logan found himself shaking his head with a fond smile.

“Careful you two, I’m sure it won’t be long before Patton returns,” Logan teased. Roman broke away from Virgil with an indignant sound, face red. Virgil let out a snicker, covering his mouth with his hand soon after. Roman soon dissolved into giggles, and even Logan found himself laughing slightly.

“Oh Logan… I’ve missed that smart mouth of yours,” Roman sighed wistfully.

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing about my mouth you’ve missed,” he replied with a smirk.

“Fair enough. C’mere you,” Roman said, carefully disentangling his hand from Virgil’s hair and reaching out towards Logan. The astro-witch chuckled, and leaned in. Roman’s hand rested on his cheek, and their lips met… it was everything Logan didn’t realize he was missing.

Emile hummed as he tended to his plants, a small watering can in one hand. They reached up and stretched towards him, their vines curling around his fingers. He huffed out a soft laugh, stroking the leaves lovingly.

“It's alright, I'm here,” he soothed. They retracted from his fingers, and if plants could purr, Emile believed they would have.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped his waist, and a nose nuzzled into his neck. Emile laughed again, turning his head to look down at his husband, who was now pressing soft kisses to his neck. He pressed a kiss to Remy's soft yet unruly hair, setting his watering can down.

“I'm here for you too, don't worry love,” Emile said with a grin. Remy let out a pleased hum, pulling back slightly to look Emile in the eyes. He twisted in his husband's warm grip, placing a hand on his cheek and kissing him lovingly.

“What're you doing up so late, babes?” Remy asked after pulling away.

“Couldn't sleep,” Emile shrugged, pressing another kiss to Remy's lips. Remy was frowning when he pulled away, but was stopped with a hand on his chest when he tried to kiss it away.

“I could help with that, you know,” Remy pointed out.

“You were sleeping soundly, for once. I didn't want to wake you,” Emile murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Remy's eyes.

“You're like… too sweet. But as you can tell, I woke up anyway. Bed feels empty and strange without you,” Remy hummed, pulling him down into a deep and passionate kiss. Emile laughed into the kiss, hands plunging into Remy's soft, thick hair.

“Mmm… I love you. Sorry for leaving bed,” Emile murmured against his lips once he pulled away.

“Betcha you'll find a way to make it up to me,” Remy smirked. Emile let out a low laugh, and leaned in once more.

A sudden blur of blue and gray bursting in from the window caused both witches to jump, Emile losing his balance and toppling backwards, taking Remy down with him. The two of them glanced over to see their son, Patton, looking a little disheveled with an urgent look on his face. Remy was the first to scramble to his feet, rushing over to Patton and stopping just short of pulling him into a hug.

“Patton? Hun, you okay?” Remy asked softly. Patton’s expression wavered for a moment before he threw himself into Remy’s arms, sniffling. The dream-witch hugged his son tightly, looking over Patton’s head at Emile, expression twisted with concern. Emile rose to his feet and walked over to Remy and Patton, wrapping his arms around both of them.

“What happened?” Emile asked in a murmur, gently rubbing Patton’s back.

“You remember our friend Roman?” Patton asked.

“The one Virgil has a crush on?” Remy asked. Patton nodded, tears beginning to spring from his eyes. Emile and Remy exchanged concerned glances once more, hugging their son tightly between them.

“Someone’s put a bounty on him, he’s almost been killed twice! Thankfully an old friend- well, they were more than friends- of Roman’s saved him, but then he got hurt too! I just… I don’t know what to do, we need your help,” Patton whimpered, burying his face in Remy’s chest.

“It’s okay hun, we’ll figure this out,” Remy murmured, gently running his hands through Patton’s hair. Emile pressed a gentle kiss to his son’s hair, then pulled away from the hug.

“I’ll grab my bag, and then we can head to your apartment,” Emile explained with a soft smile.

“Grab my bag too, sweetie? I’ve got my broom,” Remy said, shifting Patton into a one-armed embrace and holding his now free hand out. His broom flew into his grip, and Emile smiled at his husband’s dramatic antics before heading to their room and grabbing their respective bags- Emile’s a large floral handbag, and Remy’s a brown messenger bag. Both bags were enchanted so that any object could fit in it, no matter the size or weight.

Emile strode back into their main living space to see that Patton had now detached himself from Remy, wiping at his eyes before adjusting his hat with a confident smile. Emile smiled back before giving Remy his bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder, before giving Emile a smirk.

“What?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something, babes?” Remy asked, gesturing with his broom for emphasis.

“Oh! My umbrella!” Emile cried out, holding out his hand. After a few crashing sounds, and winces from Remy and Patton, his umbrella flew into his grip. Remy chuckled fondly, shaking his head.

“You and your Mary Poppins aesthetic,” Remy scoffed, but had a soft twinkle in his eye.

“Practically perfect in every way! Now, let’s go to Patton’s and see if we can sort this dilemma out!”

Remy wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he arrived at Patton and Virgil’s apartment, but his son curled up on the couch with Roman and another man he didn’t recognize was not one of them. Virgil was seated in Roman’s lap, one of the magma-witch’s arms around his waist. His nose was buried in the crook of Virgil’s neck, eyes closed and snoring softly. His other arm was around the darker haired man that Remy didn’t recognize, his face smushed against Virgil’s chest, one hand clutching at his cloak. Virgil was leaning his head on Roman’s, a soft look on his face as he gazed at the two men clinging to him.

Patton let out a sharp gasp, and Virgil’s head shot up at the sound. The movement nearly startled Roman and the other man awake, causing Virgil’s expression to twist to one of mild panic. But they both settled back asleep, and Virgil let out a sigh of relief.

“Calm down Patton, you’re gonna wake them up!” Virgil hissed.

“Sorry! I’m just so excited! It looks like you three talked things out!” Patton whisper-shouted. A light flush came over Virgil’s face for a moment, paired with a rare soft smile.

“Yeah… we did. They’re my… uh, well- we’re uh- dating. All of us. Together,” Virgil stammered, becoming more and more flustered.

“Well, I’m very happy for you three,” Emile said, smiling encouragingly. Virgil gave a small half-smile back, gaze shifting back to Roman and the other man.

“Thanks, Dad. And while you’re here, do you think you could take a look at Roman and Logan? Patton and I tried healing them the best we could… but I’d really feel better if you’d double-check our work,” Virgil asked, gave flicking between Logan and Roman, then back to Emile.

“Of course, Virge, I’d be happy to! But it seems they’re a little wrapped up with you right now,” he replied with a wink. Virgil flushed deeper, if possible.

“Daaaaad! I am so glad they’re not awake right now, you’re embarrassing,” Virgil muttered. Just as the words came out of Virgil’s mouth, Logan began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked tiredly for a moment until he saw Virgil. A soft, adoring look came across his face, and he leaned up to give Virgil a quick peck on the cheek. A small squeak escaped Virgil’s lips, and he glanced frantically between Logan and the others.

“Logan!” he hissed, face incredibly red.

“Mmm… you’re cute when you blush. Was kissing you okay? I didn’t overstep, did I?” Logan asked, brow furrowing with concern.

“No, you’re fine-”

“Good,” Logan interrupted with a murmur, pulling Virgil into a soft kiss. Virgil made a surprised sound into the kiss, but began melting into it- until Remy cleared his throat.

Logan jumped, breaking away from Virgil with a yelp. The noise awoke Roman, who made a tired, distressed sound, tugging Virgil closer to him in a protective manner. An incredibly deep blush was over Logan’s face as he saw Remy, Emile, and Patton standing in the living room. Virgil was murmuring soothing words to Roman, assuring him that they weren’t in danger, and his grip on the shadow-witch loosened.

“Remy, they were having a moment! And you spooked poor Roman!” Emile protested with a frown.

“Babes, I’m happy that our son is happy- but we came to help them with whoever’s trying to take out Roman, not see them be all cutesy and domestic,” Remy replied.

“Yes, of course- sorry Mr. Picani,” Logan stammered. Remy huffed out a laugh.

“Gurl, you can just call me Remy. And don’t sweat it.”

“Yeah. Besides, he and Dad are much worse,” Virgil teased with a smirk.

“Hey! Now wait just a minute-”

“You said something about helping us?” Roman piped up, before a full-on sass-off erupted between Virgil and Remy. The dream-witch quickly schooled his expression and nodded.

“Roman, do you know why someone would be after you?” Emile asked. Roman sighed, drawing one arm away from Virgil’s waist so that he could run a hand through his hair.

“That’s the thing- I have no idea,” he replied.

“Are you sure? What about your adventures, you’re always running into unfriendly people,” Patton pointed out.

“But I haven’t come across anyone as of late! The last big adventure I had was slaying a dragon that was terrorizing people,” Roman said with an irritated huff. Remy and Emile exchanged nervous glances.

“Is everything alright?” Logan asked, but the two of them didn’t seem to hear him.

“You don’t think that-”

“Emile, it’s been years, decades since one’s been seen or even heard of!”

“The same could be said about you.” Remy let out a frustrated sigh, then turned to Roman.

“Are you absolutely sure it was a dragon you killed?” he asked.

“I think I know a dragon when I see one, Remy,” Roman huffed, expression twisted with confusion and frustration.

“Are you sure? Think about its eyes, its mannerisms, did anything strike you as strange about it?!” Remy demanded.

“What? I don’t know! It was a dragon, it was hurting people, so I put an end to it!” Roman snapped.

“Pop… what are you trying to say?” Virgil asked carefully, gaze flicking between Roman and Remy.

“A dragon-witch might be targeting Roman,” Emile replied gravely. A shocked silence settled over them for a moment, until Logan spoke up.

“But- they’re even more unheard of than a dream-witch or an astro-witch!”

“Yeah! And how could one be after Roman if he killed them?” Patton asked.

“There could be more than one dragon-witch. Or it could be one of their dragons that Roman killed. It’s hard to say,” Emile explained.

“See, this is why I keep telling you all of these adventures are a bad idea! You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Virgil huffed.

“The dragon was hurting innocents! I couldn’t just sit there and let people die!” Roman protested.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn noble and heroic?! It’s both the most frustrating and charming thing about you,” Virgil grumbled.

“You think I’m charming?” Roman smirked.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Virgil exclaimed, burying his face in Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman, where was the dragon’s lair? Maybe if we went there, we could figure out what exactly happened,” Emile suggested.

“It was in the old subway system under the city,” Roman replied.

“Then it’s settled. We head to the old subway system in the morning,” Remy said.

“Why not now? We’re all awake and ready to go!” Roman protested.

“Gurl, haven’t you been attacked twice?! Y’all need rest before we try and take on a dragon-witch!” Remy scolded.

“I agree… but it may not be safe here. An assassin has already come here, there’s no telling who else may know of our location,” Logan pointed out.

“Hun, I’d like to see them take on a dream-witch and the most notorious herbal-witch,” Remy said with a confident smirk. Emile blushed slightly at Remy’s proclamation, but nodded.

“Yeah, and Logan did a pretty good job of protecting me earlier,” Roman cooed, leaning over to kiss Logan’s cheek.

“I got wounded.”

“Virgil healed you!”

“I’d prefer not having to heal either of you.”

“Okay lovebirds, that’s enough. Let me take a look at Roman and Logan to make sure that they’re healed up okay, then you all can get some rest,” Emile said, tone making no room for argument.

He looked over Logan first, then Roman. He checked over Virgil too, despite his protests that he was fine. The three of them then trudged to Virgil’s room, none of them needing Remy’s dream magic to help send them to sleep. Emile sent Patton off to bed, despite his insistence that he didn’t need to rest. However, he was practically asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. It reminded Emile of the days when Patton and Virgil were just children, just after he had married Remy.

“You should rest too,” Remy murmured, arms wrapping around Emile’s waist and nose nuzzling his neck.

“What happened to potential assassins not being able to take on you and me?” Emile teased.

“I’ll wake you if anything happens, promise,” Remy murmured.

“Fine,” Emile sighed, letting himself be led to the couch. Remy sat down first, and Emile laid down with his head in his lap, letting Remy stroke his hair until he fell asleep.

The next morning was calmer than expected, with Patton and Emile making breakfast for everyone. Logan and Virgil hardly left Roman’s side, both of them equally paranoid about how he was holding up despite Emile’s okay on his condition. They shuffled through their morning routine, a little different from what they usually experienced on their own. Roman didn’t mind it one bit- in fact, he felt he could get used to it, waking up with Logan and Virgil.

After they had eaten and rounded up their various magical paraphernalia, their quest could not be put off much longer. The band of witches set out to the abandoned subway. It was a bit of a trip from Patton and Virgil’s apartment, but with their brooms (and Emile’s umbrella) they made the trip in no time.

“So where’s the dragon?” Remy asked, voice echoing in the empty subway cavern. Scorch marks could be seen all over, as well as parts of the tunnels that had completely collapsed, leaving behind only rubble.

“That’s the thing, it just went poof after I killed it. I didn’t really think anything of it at the time,” Roman explained.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?!” Virgil demanded.

“Hey! I’ve had a very stressful past few days! Details slipped my mind,” Roman protested sheepishly.

“How about the detail that you should check to see if the dragon you killed is actually dead? Or that the dragon is actually a dragon?” a voice snarled from behind them. They all whirled around, Logan and Virgil taking a defensive position in front of Roman. Patton stood beside his brother, while Remy and Emile were in front of the four younger witches.

Before them stood a tall woman wearing a sleek bodysuit that seemed to be made of shimmering green scales. Her dark hair was piled into a haphazard bun on the top of her head. If the horns protruding from the top of her head weren’t enough to prove what she was, then the fiery orange-red reptilian eyes certainly were. She was a dragon-witch.

“Um… heyyy, about before-” Roman started, but was cut off by Virgil elbowing him.

“Don’t make this worse than it already is, Princey,” Virgil muttered. The dragon-witch moved as if to step closer, but halted by a firm glare from Remy.

“Gurl. Don’t even think about it,” he snarled, golden dreamsand beginning to swirl between his fingertips. The dragon-witch arched an eyebrow, dark laughter rumbling in the back of her throat. She threw her head back and began to full-on cackle. Remy gritted his teeth, and with a defiant yell, hurled his dreamsand at the witch. Golden tendrils surged through the air- but ended up curling through nothing. The dragon-witch had vanished.

“Where did she-”

“REMY!” Emile cried out, but his husband turned around too late. The dragon-witch was behind him, hands having morphed into claws. She slashed them across his face, and Remy cried out, stumbling backwards.

“NO!” they cried out in unison, Virgil’s voice swelling above the rest as a wave of shadows flew from his fingertips, hitting the dragon-witch in the chest and sending her sprawling. Emile and Patton rushed to Remy’s side. Emile kneeled beside him and pulled the dream-witch into his arms. Patton’s hands flew to his mouth when he saw the heavily bleeding cuts over his father’s face. Remy let out a whimper, eyes fluttering and tears of pain mixing with the blood trailing down his cheeks.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay, my sweet Bedtime Bear,” Emile soothed, his voice trembling as tears dripped down his face. Some of them landed in Remy’s cuts, the tears causing them to heal slightly.

“Thought ‘m more of a Sweet Dreamsss Bear,” Remy slurred. Emile choked out a laugh, brushing Remy’s hair out of his face.

“Maybe now’s not the time for cartoon references,” he murmured.

“Youuuuu ss-started it,” Remy pouted.

Patton let out a sudden gasp, and Emile’s gaze shot up to him as he slammed the end of his staff into the ground. A shimmering golden dome materialized above them, just in time to stop a massive dragon claw from crushing them. A frustrated roar was heard, and the claws came down, again and again, Patton letting out a pained gasp with every hit to the dome. His body was trembling with the effort to keep the barrier up, and sweat trailed down his brow.

“Patton…”

“Don’t worry about me, heal Pop!” Patton cried out. The dome was hit again, and Patton let out a shout as he fell to his knees. The barrier flickered, but stayed up as Patton leaned against his staff, gripping it firmly with both hands.

A burst of starlight hit the dragon-witch, soon followed by a wave of shadows and a blaze of fire. She roared in pain, stumbling back from the golden dome. Patton glanced over to Logan, Virgil, and Roman, giving them a weak smile before slumping to the ground with a pained sound. The golden dome flickered out, and Virgil was at his side in an instant.

“Nononononono, Patton, don’t do this to me, c’mon- not like this, please-” Virgil begged, shadows clinging to him and swirling anxiously as he took his brother into his arms. Patton’s eyes fluttered open, and Virgil sobbed in relief.

“‘M okay, jus’ tired,” Patton murmured.

“Well, if you weren’t sleepy, I would be able to help you with that, hun,” a voice piped up from beside Virgil.

“Pop!” Virgil and Patton cried out in unison, seeing Remy standing beside them. The cuts had healed to become just faint lines against his face. Emile stood at his husband’s side, smiling in relief as he gazed at him and his sons.

An enraged roar broke the Picani family out of their reverie, and their gaze snapped to see the dragon-witch stumbling backwards against the old subway system’s wall. Bursts of fire and starlight rained down at the witch, Roman and Logan fighting together in tandem- almost like a practiced, graceful dance.

“I’ll take care of Patton, you two go help Roman and Logan,” Emile said, already scooping Patton up into his arms.

“But what do we do?” Virgil asked, glancing over to the dragon-witch nervously. No matter how many hits Logan and Roman got on her, she would get back up, jaws snapping and spitting fire.

“You three keep her distracted long enough for me to use my dreamsand without her noticing. Once she’s asleep, we turn her in to the Board of Master Witches. They’ll figure out what to do with her,” Remy explained.

“Sounds good, Pop. Be careful,” Virgil said.

“You too, hun. Go help your boyfriends,” Remy replied with a wink. Virgil spluttered for a moment or two, blushing, before turning and running to help Logan and Roman. Logan caught sight of Virgil first, expression flashing with concern. He sent another burst of starlight from his staff before rushing over to Virgil. He gently grasped his shoulder, eyes searching for any injuries.

“Are you okay? How is your family holding up?” Logan asked, gazing softly into Virgil’s eyes.

“They’re okay, Pop has a plan,” Virgil said, then explained Remy’s plan to him. The astro-witch nodded curtly, about to pull away and tell Roman the plan, but hesitated.

“I’ve never been one for superstitions, but-” he paused to press a soft kiss to Virgil’s lips. “A kiss for good luck.”

“Good luck,” Virgil gasped out, practically breathless from such a simple, soft kiss. Logan smiled, then turned to run and explain the plan to Roman. Virgil watched him leave for a moment, until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The dragon-witch was getting up from Logan’s most recent blast of starlight, and her angered gaze was zeroed in on Logan and Roman. Something snapped inside Virgil. He couldn’t let them get hurt.

“Dragon-witch!” Virgil cried. Her head snapped to glare at him, but Virgil stood his ground, glaring right back. Tendrils of shadow writhed and whipped behind him, and Virgil was surprised to see a spark of fear run through the dragon-witch’s amber eyes. The tendrils lashed out at her, pinning her front claws to the ground. Her massive wings flapped as she roared in frustration, trying to free her claws.

A burst of starlight hit her side, and a mighty roar shook the old subway system. She breathed a plume of fire at Logan, but Roman countered it with his own fire. With his other hand, Roman summoned some of the rubble towards him, and it swirled around him for a moment before he sent it flying at her. She roared again, and Logan sent another burst of starlight straight into her mouth. The dragon-witch shrieked and writhed, but Virgil’s shadows held firm.

“Gurl, you sound so overtired! Bedtime for you, bitch!” Remy shouted, dreamsand swirling around him before it shot forward into the dragon-witch’s head.

“No!” she shrieked, before her eyelids fluttered and her body slumped to the ground. The dragon form shifted and melted away, and she soon was in human form, fast asleep. Virgil’s shadows retracted, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“We did it!” Roman squealed, rushing over and wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist, lifting him up and spinning around with him in his arms.

“Put me down! And could you be any louder? We just got her to sleep!” Virgil hissed. Roman gave him a cheeky grin, setting Virgil down but still keeping his arms around his waist. Virgil opened his mouth again- probably to reprimand Roman- but he was cut off by a pair of lips meeting his own. When Roman pulled away, his grin was brighter and his gaze soft and loving.

“I’m sure your Pop can get her to sleep again,” Roman murmured.

“You’re insufferable,” Virgil muttered.

“Yes, but I believe I prefer him that way. It can be rather charming,” Logan said, walking over to them and dropping a kiss on Roman’s head. The magma-witch flushed bright red, causing Virgil to smirk.

“That’s our Roman. So charming it’s insufferable,” Virgil agreed, loving the blush that danced along Roman’s cheeks.

“Alright you three, how about we head home?” Emile’s voice piped up, and the three witches turned towards him. Patton was still in his arms, although he was more alert. Remy was just behind him, the dragon-witch slung over his shoulder and snoring softly.

“Home sounds fantastic,” Virgil said. Logan and Roman nodded, and the witches headed out of the old subway system, the threat over their heads finally gone.

Logan woke up to sunlight streaming through the window, strong arms around his waist, and someone’s head against his chest. He blinked in confusion for a moment, not quite recognizing where he was. But then, soft kisses were trailed up the back of his neck, and Logan remembered in an instant.

“Good morning, Roman,” he murmured, turning his head to look his boyfriend in the eyes.

“Shhh… too much talking, not enough kissing,” Roman pouted. Logan rolled his eyes, but leaned in to press a kiss to Roman’s lips. When Logan began to pull away, Roman followed and kissed him deeper, causing Logan to let out a soft gasp. He could feel Roman’s smirk against his mouth as the two continued exchanging soft, passionate kisses. One of Roman’s hands inched underneath Logan’s shirt, and Logan gasped again.

“Hey, some of us are trying to sleep here,” Virgil grumbled, his voice muffled against Logan’s chest. Logan broke away from Roman with a laugh.

“Sorry Virgil, you know how Roman gets,” Logan teased.

“Hey!”

“Only teasing, love,” Logan said, still not used to the thrill that went through him whenever he said that. Love. It had only been a few weeks since they had defeated the dragon-witch, and Roman, Virgil, and Logan’s relationship had started. But Logan was certain of his feelings, for one of the first times in his life. He loved them.

“Hey, you guys are adorable, but am I gonna get a good morning kiss here or not?” Virgil huffed.

“Of course, my dear. Apologies for forgetting you,” Logan replied, shifting towards him again. Virgil leaned up to press his lips to Logan’s, the astro-witch running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. He let out a sudden gasp into the kiss, as Roman had begun kissing up his neck again.

“Roman!” Logan gasped out. Roman smirked against his neck, pressing another soft kiss there.

“Sorry Starshine, you’re just so kissable this morning,” Roman murmured.

“I’d have to agree. C’mere?” Virgil asked, a little bashful. Logan smiled, and leaned in once more.

As the three of them exchanged soft kisses for most of the morning, Logan couldn’t believe his luck. Just weeks earlier, his heart had been filled with regret. But now his once lost love was back, and he had Virgil now too. And he would fight a thousand dragon-witches if it meant they were forever by his side.

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