#superpowers AU

[almostfoxglove]

pedro pascal cinematic universe aus 12/?

the one where marcus pike covers his tracks. (insp)

[reds-skull]

Since a couple of people showed interest in this au, I figured I can post the older sketches I made for it.

First two are the reapers of Soap and Ghost, the rest are just kinda exploring how their powers would look (sorry this is messy it's all in one file and I didn't plan on posting this lol)

I got other aus tbh, things that don't fit in my comic form. Might actually try my hand at writing fics for the first time...

[deityoftherain]

Traffic Life Superpowers AU Memes pt.3

Under the cut are a bunch of memes that @fragayzeichen made for my au, some from the perspective of being in universe making memes about their city's local superpower scene on the internet and some by us in our reality, under the cut that xe posted in my discord server. There are spoilers for the fanfics in the series above, you have been warned!

Name Quick Guide hero villain vigilante/other civilian (look at #traffic life superpowers au or click on their name for more information on their powers and etc)

Tango is a vigilante named Phoenix Scott is a villain named Starflower Pearl is a villain named Scarlet Moon Lizzie is a hero named Shadowlady Etho is a hero named Slab Joel is a hero named Helter Skelter, or Hel Skel for short Skizz is a semiretired hero named Skizzleman BigB is more of a semiretired, private sector hero named Tip Martyn is a villain named Knight Ren is a villain named The Red King Cleo is more of a floater but is working with the heroes as of now named Zomblaze

Grian is a civilian working for the Traffic City Hero Agency as a therapist Scar is a civilian working at an animal shelter that he owns

Scarlet Moon and Starflower are a villain duo called "Galaxy Duo" The Red King and his Knight are a villain duo called "Dogwarts" Shadowlady, Slab, and Helter Skelter are a hero team that often work together

Cleo/Zomblaze every couple months:

posted by reddit user tinynight (who is totally not Martyn):

"we love it for him though"

more memes

even more memes

masterpost

[mommyclaws]

Ok i need to give my wrist a break before it falls off, i kinda wanna talk about my wc superpowers au. I haven’t given it alot of thought so power suggestions and asks abt lore/ what powers characters have are appreciated :]

Here’s the few I’ve got so far.

Squilf has leap and slow falling. Yknow how you can double jump in video games? Kinda like that. I wanted to give her something very cute and non-battle related bc she's very smart and would find alot of ways to use this in different situations. Leaf has empath powers and can feel other’s physical pain. Kinda vaguely like her powers in tnp but she can’t read minds or anything.

Ravenpaw has invisibility and that’s how he accidentally witnessed Tigerclaw’s murder

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 17: Two Steps Forward

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Two Steps Forward - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3305 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, suggestive, non-graphic nudity, (memories of) non-graphic violence

Logan (and Roman) work obsessively at finding a way to help Remus. Just as Lucas had. And just as Lucas had, they have a breakthrough.

“Re’s really progressing in his control,” Luc murmured, head pillowed on Janus’ belly. His head rose and fell with each breath, a soft marking of time as they wound down for the evening.

Janus hummed and carded an ungloved hand through his hair. “He seemed so happy at dinner after your excursion.”

“When we first got out there, he… he started to get overwhelmed. Ro did, too, at first. The…” His brow furrowed, then smoothed under Janus’ touch. “Old Boston is so close to the camps… That’s a lot of voices, a lot of pain.” Luc shifted, smiling up at him through messy curls. “Your lessons carried Ro through it.”

The fact he could help at least one of the boys eased the tightness in Janus’ chest. “That helps, love. Thank you.” His decade-old promise to keep them both safe danced through his mind and fueled every attempt to get Re’s powers under control. “So… how did you get through to Re?”

His gaze shifted, suddenly fascinated by the crooked edge of a thumbnail.

“Luc?” Janus prompted, hand stilling in his hair.

“I took just a little of the hurt,” he said, finally looking up. “Just enough to let him concentrate.”

“Luc! You promised you’d focus on techniques to help him stay calm, not just doping him!”  Janus sat up and Luc pushed up onto his elbow, bringing them closer to eye level. “He needs to learn how to filter the perceptions coming in, not just… not care about what’s out there.”

“It wasn’t a full block! I swear, ma cheri,” Luc insisted, reaching for his arm. “We can’t just yank off the training wheels and let him teeter off a cliff.”

“I’m not suggesting—”

“‘Trust me, dammit,’” Luc whispered with a little smile. His grin grew when Janus sighed, shaking his head with a laugh.

“Now that’s just unfair,” he murmured, pushing back the hair from his eyes. “You can’t use my own words against me.”

“I can’t?” Luc chuckled, sliding closer and nuzzling against his collarbone. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

~

Twenty-three weeks.

One hundred and sixty-one days.

One hundred and sixty-one days since he’d first looped a reverse-field esper coil over The Prince’s shoulders.

“Damn,” he’d grunted under the weight but still laughed. “If this doesn’t work, Iron Man, I’m gonna make you bench this thing.” Logan had spent a lot of time in the fitness room after that first failed test.

One hundred and sixty-one days of breaking the vise on V’s printer, of burning his fingertips on overheated solder. One hundred and sixty-one days of The Prince’s downcast eyes, of flicking off a too-much or two-little device.

One hundred and sixty-one nights of whispering together outside The Muse’s door about that day’s attempts. And about the book The Muse was reading, and the Springsgate bridge the team had saved from collapsing. 

About the dreams they’d each had the night before.

It had taken three weeks, but they’d finally convinced V to install a vent in the hall at Logan’s level to make it easier for the Muse to hear him. After watching Logan stretch and strain to get closer to the vent he’d installed at eye level—at a standing Mad Lad’s eye level—he’d finally obliged. The work in the hall was quick, but Silvertongue had needed to dig up some ancient set of manual tools so V could install the bolts on The Muse’s side.

“Wait, not that drill—”

“Dammit!” The power drill sparked and sizzled in his grip, and the acrid scent of burnt insulation filled the air. “Mac, you got the hand drill—” Logan had chuckled and thunked into his outstretched palm.

“Right here, V.”

One night, he and The Muse had tried to sit together on either side of the open door for an actual face-to-face conversation. But the temptation had been too great and all it had taken was one tiny touch for fire to spread between them.

At least it had been brief enough not to have woken The Prince or Silvertongue.

One hundred and sixty two days later, after everyone had gone to sleep, Logan tapped at The Muse’s door, trial #398 freshly polished and nestled in his lap.

“You said Ro helped you?”

The Muse sat on the floor, two arms’ length distance from the open door. He fidgeted with his sleeves, twisting them together in his lap, and chewed the edge of his mustache. He watched with wide eyes as Logan maneuvered to the floor—less than gracefully—and turned to retrieve the thick metal ring from his wheelchair. 

Logan nodded, holding up the device. It was heavy, though perhaps not as heavy as it looked. It was about three inches wide and a good inch thick, a large durasteel bangle custom fit to wrap around The Muse’s wrist.

Well, designed to fit tightly around his brother’s wrist. Eyeing The Muse’s far bonier wrist now, Logan nodded, certain it would fit him comfortably.

“And Ro’s not awake, is he?”

“No,” He shook his head, smile tight. That first time they’d touched, it had taken The Prince several days to completely recover from the overflow of thought and perception from The Muse’s unshielded mind. “He’s asleep. And if anything goes wrong, we’ll flip the shield back up. He might have a brief nightmare. Nothing worse than that.” 

Nothing worse than starting all over with their tests. Again.

Logan shook away his pessimism and met The Muse’s eyes before setting down the coil on the floor between them. “Are you ready?”

The Muse’s fingers twitched as he reached for the device. Completely powered down, it lay heavy and quiet on the floor, with none of the staticy buzz it usually emitted. His hand hovered above it, just shy of touching it.

“But if you turn it on in here, won’t my shield break your—your”

“Esper coil,”

“Yeah.” The Muse traced a spray of wires woven along the edges. Patton had helped with the braiding and Logan briefly wondered if he recognized his work. The Muse looked up and nodded. “You should see what he does with hair.”

Dragging his eyes away from The Muse’s soft green ones, Logan nodded and pointed to the power switch. “You will need to activate the coil immediately after I shut down your field. I would, but—” Right hand outstretched, he wiggled his fingers at the same time he waved his left stump.

The Muse chuckled. “Okay, I can do that. And you’re sure it’ll work?”

“I’m positive the coil will protect you. I would never knowingly put you in any jeopardy. We’ve tested it extensively and—”

“No.” The Muse touched his sleeve. “I mean are you sure it will work to protect you from me? That time the power went out, and when we touched… I…” He hung his head. “I hurt you.”

“We hurt each other,” he reminded him. “I will be fine,” Logan promised, before The Muse could argue—again—about who hurt who more. “If need be, I’ll reactivate the field.” He smiled, his hand close enough to the Muse’s to feel that glorious buzzy heat radiate off his skin.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I trust you, Logan. This switch here?”

“Precisely.” Eyes fixed on The Muse, Logan climbed up the perch next to the door, then felt along the wall for the shield’s control panel. The cover squeaked when he flipped it up. He nodded one more time and pressed his palm against the shield’s controls.

The numbers counted down and The Muse’s mustache quivered, and he shook out the hand hovering over the coil’s switch. The panel flicked to ‘0’ and a strangled sound spilled from his lips, a matching wail filling Logan’s mind.

Abruptly, the pain was gone and the Muse looked up, blinking as he smiled back at him. The cry in Logan’s mind shifted, deepening into a soft, comforting hum. It reminded Logan of a lullabye.

“It worked,” the Muse whispered. He inched closer, still gripping the coil. “I… It… It doesn’t hurt,” he said, looking around the room as though he could see through the walls.

Maybe he could.

“I…” He let out a low sigh and his entire face melted into a softer smile, his shoulders dropped, hands loose even as he hugged the coil close to his belly. “I can hear… I can hear y—” The Muse’s eyes flew wide open. “You hurt!”

“What?” Logan scrabbled for the panel, stabbing at the controls. “No, no, no, I’m so sorry, I’ll turn it back on, I’m sorry, I was so sure, I—” It would fry the coil, but all that mattered was stopping the Muse’s pain. Hand trembling, he broke the sequence and had to start from the beginning, hurrying to get the protective field reactivated.

But the Muse was faster.

“No, Logan, I mean you hurt,” he said softer, gently pulling his hand from the controls. When had he gotten so close? The Muse’ hand was warm against his, but it was more than a surface heat. His touch felt… textured. Plush, like a fluffy towel. Or dandelion heads. What insulation looked like.

Logan relaxed and moved closer. The Muse just nodded, still holding his hand, coil now wrapped around his wrist. Scarred and calloused fingers oh-so-gently traced over his own misshapen digits, brushing over the scarred knuckles where his pinky and ring finger had once been. 

“I can hear how much you hurt here,” the Muse whispered. “And here,” he added, tapping what was left of his legs, then his arm.

Logan looked away, but the warmth spreading from the Muse’s touch remained. “Phantom limb pain. The clinic said it’s all in my head,” he muttered.

“Of course all our pain is in our heads,” the Muse replied, sliding closer. “So is our joy and our pleasure and our fear and our need.” His hands were so warm. “Our love and our desire.”

This close, Logan was certain he heard the Muse’s words like his own thoughts, though with the coil set this high that shouldn’t be possible.

The Muse grinned as he touched his chin, two gentle fingers turning him so their eyes would meet. “You’re softer now, but I can still hear you. And I think you can hear me.”

Logan shivered, the Muse’s excitement buzzing under his own skin, easing his worry. The movement set off a wave of sharp ache, long-gone calves screaming to be stretched. He stifled a cry. “And… and I’m not hurting you?”

“No,” he said, wincing in time with Logan.

The panel called to him. “No, I am. I can see it. I’m hurting you. I should raise your shield.”

“No, please don’t,” the Muse stroked his hand. “I have an idea.” Pulling back, he sat fully on the floor, legs crossed at the shins in front of him. One hand rested on his thigh and the other he held in offering to Logan. “Close your eyes and take my hand.”

With one more glance at the control panel, Logan slid down to the floor and did as he was asked. Eyes closed, Muse’s hand wrapped around his and he laced their fingers together, with Logan’s pinkie—his pinkie— brushing against a long, jagged scar over the back of Muse’s hand.

“You feel that, don’t you?” Laughter played in his voice. “Now take my other hand,” he whispered.

“But I—” Logan began even as warm, callused fingers enveloped his left hand. Tears pricked his eyes as he flexed fingers he hadn’t felt since the bot attack. “H—how? How are you doing that?”

“Keep your eyes closed,” Muse instructed instead of answering. “And see.”

Eyes still shut, Logan looked down and smiled at his own thin, pale fingers threaded together with Muse’s. The tips of Muse’s fingers were scarred and rough, but his palms were soft and wonderfully warm. Logan squeezed his hand, laughing, then traced a thick knotted scar just above his first knuckle. The bones were crooked beneath his skin, like they’re broken and fused not quite the way they’d been. Muse nodded.

“I punched the cinderblock,” he explained with a dry laugh. “I thought it might be a good distraction, but…” He shook his head and gave him a little shrug when their eyes ‘met.’ 

Logan stroked the scar, nodding slowly, then brought their shared grip together and compared his hands side-by-side. His own hands weren’t identical, but they never had been. Without the augmentations commonplace for Traditional children of the highest classes, the fingers on Logan’s dominant left hand had always been just a little thicker, a little stronger. 

He’d always scarred easily and his skin freckled in the sun. This hand, his hand Muse was showing him was splashed with the same familiar constellation of freckles and moles on the back of it where he’d missed his sunscreen, awkwardly applying it with his non-dominant hand. He’d had the marks since before the final round of ozone replacements back when he was still a child. Know you like the back of my hand…

Muse’s Illusion was… perfect. Incredible, in fact. Logan could ‘see’ his old hand so clearly. But—

“Your mind remembers,” Muse whispered, leaning closer until their foreheads touched, hands clasped between them. “It’s all in there, bouncing around in your head, little memories hiding from your own thoughts.”

Logan floated in the gentle cadence of his words. 

“But your mind keeps it all, the memory never really goes away. Nothing does. Nothing dies in your mind. Your mind remembers what your hand looked like, remembers what things felt like. Your mind remembers everything.”

As if on cue, Logan curled around himself, a tearing, burning pain shooting up his left arm and his right hand clenched around Muse’s. The pickerbot’s shadow loomed over them, cold metal pulling him up by the hair and—

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Remus whispered. A mustache bristled against the knuckles of his right hand as warm, chapped lips pressed kisses against his mangled fingers and Logan gradually softened his grip. “See? You’re safe.” When his right hand grew slack, Remus laid it in his own lap. “Rest your hand there,” he instructed, then wrapped both hands around Logan’s trembling left arm.

Palm smoothing down over skin that wasn’t really there, he gripped Logan’s phantom left hand, then firmly massaged the muscles in his shoulder and upper arm, pressing away the pain of ripped ligaments and flesh, the physical evidence of a solid, whole humerus overriding the memory of shattered, grating bone.

His hands moved down Logan’s left arm, pressing soft spirals into his elbow and over the flexors in his forearm, his wrist, each finger. When he was done, Remus lifted Logan’s left hand to his lips and gently kissed each fingertip.

Logan flexed his left hand, twisting his arm first one way and then the other. Remus smiled, watching.

“Better?” he asked and Logan nodded. “Now your legs. May I?”

“I trust you, Remus,” he said, laying back. Remus. When had he started to call him that?

Remus only smiled and a fuzzy brightness filled his mind. Warm sunlight on a hot day, a cool breeze raising goosebumps at the back of his neck, and over his cheeks. His heart thrummed in his chest, syncopated with the beat of Remus’ just under his skin. He relaxed as Remus shifted his body, freely sharing images of how he wanted to move him. 

Stretched out on the floor, head pillowed on one of the cushions, he lifted each leg one at a time as Remus massaged away a year’s worth of knots and aches from phantom muscles. Remus slowly worked his way up until his fingers grazed the line of fire half-way up his thigh where the pickerbot had torn him apart. He flinched.

“It’s okay, Logan, see for yourself.”

His words were soft and voiceless, but clear in Logan’s mind. He looked past closed eyes and saw his legs were healthy and whole, lanky muscles relaxed under Remus’ ministrations. The fiery ache was gone, replaced by Remus’ soft, gentle touch.

“Whenever it hurts, whenever you hurt, remember this feeling,” he said, the silent words stitching themselves into his every cell, neurons crackling and popping like those old vids of campfires. Remus helped him sit up then cupped his face between both hands. “You’re safe now, Logan.”

Remus’ words melted into his skin with the heat of his touch and Logan nodded. “I know.”

He leaned against the door and Remus curled close, tucking himself under his stump of an arm. Slowly, Logan reached up and brushed back a bit of Remus’ hair where it had fallen into his eyes. Warmth spread through his chest, a low rumbly hum. He wasn’t sure if it had started in Remus and spread to him. Or the other way around.

Just as slowly, Remus wrapped one arm around his belly, molding himself to Logan’s side. “Is this okay?”

Logan couldn’t tell if he’d asked out loud. He nodded, cheek rubbing against the top of Remus’ head. “More than okay,” he said with his mouth. Don’t let go, he said with his heart.

And Remus heard both. “I won’t,” he promised.

They stayed like that until their eyelids grew heavy and Logan’s hand stuttered and fell against Remus’ shoulder. 

“It’s late and you’re drifting off,” he murmured, shifting so he could look into his eyes. Remus blinked slowly, concern mixed with a happy daze. “It’s probably safer for you to sleep in your room, just in case…” He jiggled the coil on his wrist, its circuitry’s buzz reassuring. The key to so much.

But Remus was right. Logan nodded and he tried to sit up, a vision of clambering up and into his chair pulling him further from sleepiness.

“I can help.” Remus moved to a crouch, arms open. “We’ll work together,” he grinned, understanding both Logan’s need and hesitation without him having to speak it. He could get used to that. “Teamwork and all that, right?”

“Right.” Conjugations from an ancient Latin textbook, one of those old screened ones you could only read in the library, popped into his groggy brain as Remus lifted him up so he could reach the door controls. “Quorum par, tuum par, meus par…” [ ‘Our partner, your partner, my partner’ ]

Remus chuckled and settled him into his chair after the door slid open. “‘Meus par?’ Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Ah… Ah w—well—” Logan’s cheeks burned, the many meanings of the words ‘my partner’ flowing freely from Remus’ mind. “Th—that particular meaning might be more precisely translated as ‘socius meus.’”

Remus knelt next to Logan’s chair, keeping himself at eye level, if not just a little below. He then took Logan’s hand and held it to his own heart, the steady, rapid thrumming tickling them both.

“Or you could just call me ‘meus.’” Remus stared back at him, naked hope painting his features, a galaxy of emotions pouring from his mind. It left Logan dizzy and overwhelmed, this heady mix of joy and fear and… something soft he didn’t want to try to find words for. But did they really need words? Did they need words for what battered at the inside of his rib cage, fighting to be heard?

“Meus, then,” he whispered and Remus’ face bloomed in a smile. “Good night, Meus,” he said again.

“Good night, Logan.” He pressed a kiss against Logan’s knuckles and drew back into his room and let the door close.

Logan sat outside Remus’ room for a long time before slowly rolling down to the elevator. He called it and the doors slid open. He half-expected V to be waiting for him inside. But the elevator was empty.

After a minute or two, the elevator doors closed with him still sitting in the hall. The car remained where it was. Logan turned and rolled back to Remus’ door.

Remus was there, watching through the window.

“I don’t want to leave,” he said, hand trembling as he reached for the door panel. Remus nodded and leapt through the door as it slid open.

He crouched in front of his chair, both arms wrapped tight around Logan’s middle. “Then stay.”

[just-blei]

SuperPowers because yes

I saw how this concept was left out so I make my own version

Mention of everyone's powers:

Tulip: fire manipulation

Lake: body becomes chrome

Jesse: water manipulation, turns into water (and able of freeze water)

Nate: air manipulation (still learning)

Grace: mind control

Simon: power replication

Sorry for being kinda inactive, I literally lost everything from my hard drive :(

[legofanguy1999]

Inukag fluff week superheroes AU

A Inuyasha superhero AU fanfiction for @inukagfluffweek event Inukag fluff week 2024 day 3 power couple.

The superhero couple Wildman and the Miko has return from their night of crime fighting and the Wildman said as he remove his cowl, which allow his long white hair to be free and he said to his wife, "I'm glad that was over, Kagome. I guess crime don't learn. Now, I can have a good night sleep." Kagome, the Miko, sense something and she said to her husband, "I don't so quite yet, Inuyasha." Inuyasha was confused at first before three small figures jump on him and he fall to the ground as a little five year old girl call out, "Got you, daddy!" Inuyasha quickly call out as his kids Moroha, Akio, and Izayo are on top of him, "Kagome, these gremlins have me pin! Help me!" Kagome laugh as she said, "I guess I'm going to tickle them off you." and the three kids let out screams of laughing as their mother chase after them to their bedrooms.

[lurafita]

Yet another superheroes AU

"He never shared my religion and beliefs, but in our desperation, he joined in my prayers. We prayed every day. Just 3 kids, begging a higher power for help. But God didn't answer our prayers. Neither did the angels, or you blessed heroes. When the guards started leering at the slightly more developed children, Magnus stopped praying with us. And instead turned to the devil."

In a world where superheroes are those that have been blessed by the angels, Alec Lightwood and his fellow heroes learn that just because someone wields demonic powers, does not make them a villain.

[foolofatook001]

I've been working on a superpowers AU >:D it's more on the humor side for now, but rest assured there is a plot in development

[evil-swan-witch]

Do you like the second generation of harry potter and/or the cursed child?

Do you like scorbus and other less important ships?

Do like reading cool AUs?

If you answered yes to one or all of these questions you should totally read my fanfic!

its on ao3 and its called Never Speak Ill of the Dead! username is 1CantGoBackImHAUNT3D

its a second gen (kinda) superpower au and im really proud of it. there are 10 chapters so far but its kinda just starting so itll be pretty long. i also have plans for a sequel that might even be better than the first one! please read it!

[owchie-wowchie]

Lex and Hannah’s superpowers?

I was kinda figuring them being the same as canon because the lords and the black and white still exist in this universe

[silver-blooded-synthetics]

@amused-bouche asked:

(it's not very dirty tbh, but if I know Alma lol) 👀+ Jez 100% has thought about making out under the bleachers at the football/ track area during a game / track meet / what have you.

Alma flounders for a moment before answering, blushing at the thought. "But what if we were caught?"

[legofanguy]

Legend of Zelda super kids AU

A Legend of Zelda fanfiction for @promptsbytaurie event AU-gust 2024 day 13 superpowers featuring my Zelink chilldren.

The group of kids made up of siblings are about to test their powers on a training dummy and the teacher said to them, "Alright, dears. You may begin." Charlotte, the older daughter, use spirits of past heroes and they attack the dummy. Once Charlotte is done, her brother Daphne is next and he summon a sword out of pure light and cut the dummy in half, which made the teacher to said, "A sword out of light.... that is quite rare." Sonia, Charlotte and Daphne's younger sister, tell the teacher, "I have the power to rewind things back, so I'm not much of a fighter." and the teacher said to Sonia as he take notes, "Very well, dear." Finally, Reuven is next and he use his shadow powers to destroy the training dummy.

[deityoftherain]

Even Ice Walls Fall Down Fanfic Memes

This is just a little collection of memes I made for @watcheraurora 's ranchers-centric superpowers au, particularly the third major installment, that you can find under the cut! Spoilers ahead! You have been warned!

If you haven't read the fic yet, I highly recommend it! It's so good!

[coramwrites]

Petals and Ink

by SugarAndMint

Pairings: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V

Words: 133,223

Chapters: 18/18

Status: Complete

Jimin likes his new street, his new apartment and his new flower shop. Business is picking up, his days are filled with sunshine and delicious muffins, and it seems as though, overall, he has nothing to worry about.

Except that, well. His new neighbors seem to be a little strange.

Which is okay, since Jimin is a little strange, too.

(A flower shop/tattoo AU, with a twist.)

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 16: Lucas

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green

Prev - Lucas - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 2164 - Rated: T - CW: mild non-graphic violence, swearing, a little 'certain point of view' untruths/half-truths

Janus remembers how he and Lucas met. And shares… well, shares some of the truth with Logan. And so does Roman.

The mall was crowded for a weekday. Extra crowded. With the encroaching winter solstice, curfew had been moved in by two hours and the aisles were packed with shoppers.

And credit skimmers.

A quick one was trailing Janus now. Sharp-eyed, with the lower half of his face covered by a ratty bug mask. Hungry-looking. Janus had first noticed him three stores back. Felt the little jolt when the guy had gotten close enough that his scanner picked up Janus’ credit balance.

The skimmer had stuck close to him ever since, clearly hoping for a big payout from what he rightly assumed was some trust fund teen. He was young, too, no older than Janus. Young enough to still feel guilty about trying to rip him off.

And too young to notice he’d been made.

They’d reached the end of the upper mezzanine and Janus lingered near the service doors, fiddling with his wristcomm. And maybe flaunting how he wore the latest model. A layer of guilt sloughed off the guy, like he’d started to convince himself Janus deserved to be robbed.

Janus feigned interest in his news feed, head down and back turned the skimmer. He kept a clear view of the guy in the reflection in front of him, though, and watched him advance. Not that he needed the visual. The guy’s lingering guilt thickened the air as he approached, flowing off in heavy noxious waves, almost palpable.

It spiked a half second before his reflection moved but Janus was ready. He spun, one foot snapping out to sweep him off his feet. Janus dropped to the ground, hands out, and grabbed the guy’s arm before he could stand. He was dragging him down the service hall when a burly Powered came out of nowhere and leapt on his back.

“What the fu—” 

They both went down, skidding further from the main walkway. Janus lost his grip on the skimmer’s sleeve and he jumped to his feet, pulling his savior with him. His eyes flashed orange when his hand closed over the other’s. They’re both fucking Powereds!

-” Drop !”- Janus shouted the command into their minds and they fell to their knees. The bigger one never lost his grip on the younger guy’s hand. 

Janus stepped closer then crouched down to their eye level. The big guy pulled the skimmer behind him, shielding him with his body. 

“We don’t want to hurt you.” The older one spoke, jaw firm beneath a round, ruddy face. Dirty blond curls hung over his eyes. “But we will if we have to. We only take a little. And only from richies who can afford it,” he added, his sneer finishing his sentence.

Richies like you.

”Look, I know you’re not actual criminals… If you had been, a bear like you would’ve attacked me first and robbed my corpse.” If you had been actual criminals, you wouldn’t have felt so damn guilty. Janus set aside the question of how he hadn’t noticed the big guy’s malintent. He’d seen him in the crowd, but he’d carried no guilt, no malice. Nothing. Who were these guys?

The buzz of the crowd grew just a little louder, dampening Janus’ curiosity. He tilted his head toward the open hall they’d just come from, eyebrows raised. “We can’t have this conversation here. If they figure out we’re Powereds, they’ll stone us all.”

Janus rose and offered the strange pair his hand. “Why don’t I buy you lunch and we can get to know each other?”

-”Is this dude for real, Lukie?”- the older one asked. The words hadn’t been meant for Janus but the guy was untrained. Likely didn’t even know he could hear him.

-”The worry’s real. And the Powerless out there are getting scared.” He shrugged, looking Janus up and down. -“I dunno… He doesn’t feel like a creep,”- the other one said. -”Worst case, if he is, I’ll—”- He waggled his fingers, eyes glowing.

“That’s unlikely to work on me,” Janus said aloud, smiling. “Come on,” he said and gave the big guy’s hand a little tug. “Let’s go talk.”

-“I can still get his—”- he sent before his eyes flicked back to Janus.

Janus rolled his eyes. -“You know, you’re both awfully loud. I can show you how to—“-

A shout rang out, too far away to understand over the piped music, but the malice behind it burned the air.

Eyes blazing orange, the skimmer picked it up, too, and leapt to his feet, grabbing the big guy’s hand.

The voice rang out again, the cry picked up by a Powerless nearer them and this time, the words were clear.

“Mind freaks!”

First in thoughts, then in words, the cry picked up like a chant, a call and response spreading and consuming the crowd.

-“We need to go now!”- Janus dragged them both toward the dented swinging doors marked Staff Only . 

-”We’ll get trapped at the emergency exit.” ‘Lukie’ shook his head and he squirmed out of Janus’ grasp.

Janus chased after him. -”I know a way, just—”-

“You think we’re going anywhere with you? You probably called the mob on us in the first place!”-

-”There’s no time. Trust me, dammit!”- The pair locked arms, wide eyes bouncing from him to the gathering crowd. -”I don’t care about a few credits! Let’s go, now .”-

He felt the skimmer’s touch against his mind and he nodded. -“C’mon, Pat. He’s our best bet.”-

Janus smiled and hurried them through the door. -“Smartest decision you’ve made all day.”-

~

“Lucas was—” 

Logan shivered, stomach sinking like a too-fast elevator jerking to the top floor. The racket in his mind sharpened, a blanket ripped off and thrown to icy winds. He clung to Silvertongue’s sleeve and tried to catch his eyes.

The other man refused, busying himself with the monitor next to Logan’s bed. He took a slow breath and straightened a little on his perch. “Lucas was a Mad Lad.” Silvertongue licked his lips and frowned, but fell silent.

“That—” That wasn’t an answer. “That’s it? He… he seems—seemed?” he added, patting Silvertongue’s arm when he nodded at the past tense. “Oh, I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a loss, I… He just seemed very important to The Muse, I…”

It had only been a name, layered over and through The Muse’s memories, but there’d been something different behind it. Something… Logan shook his head. “I apologize, this is all…”

“It’s a bit much,” Silvertongue finished for him and refilled his cup. He still wouldn’t meet his eyes and his voice was… rough. “Very few…” He waited while Logan took a sip of the fresh cup. “You are the first person outside of his family who has… heard The Muse so directly and for such a long duration and—”

“And lived to talk about it. Coherently, at least.” The Prince’s low voice startled both of them. It took Logan several seconds to realize that was the first time he’d ever seen one of them sneak up on Silvertongue.

He composed himself quickly, rising to his feet and pulling down another cup from the counter behind him. “You’re dehydrated, Prince. You need fluids, too.” He cleared his throat and nodded at each of them. “You can keep each other company for a bit. I’ll see how they’re doing downstairs.”

With one more stiff smile, Silvertongue left. Logan waited until he heard the elevator close before whispering, “How’d you do that?” He looked pointedly at the seat where Silvertongue had jumped at The Prince’s arrival.

“Surprise him?” The Prince asked, pouring himself a cup before leaning back against the neighboring med bed. He shrugged at Logan’s little nod. “He’s shielded. He can’t do it for long and R—The Muse can punch right through it when he wants, but… the rest of us?” He shook his head and drained the cup. “I’d look as fucked up as you if I tried.”

The Prince slumped a little lower on the bed, looking down at the cup he rotated in his hands. Head bowed, Logan noticed the dark shadows under his eyes. The wobble in his jaw and his throat. He glanced out at the hall, then set down the cup and leaned in.

“Lucas used to be able to help Re.” The Prince’s voice was low, like he feared being overheard. “The way I used to, when we were really little. Before he got stronger than me.”

Logan pushed to sit up, blinking to clear his fuzzy vision. It was marginally effective. The Prince moved closer, bringing a stool right up to the side of his med bed. “Help him how?” he asked.

“He…” The Prince shrugged, searching for words. Logan felt a brief brush in his mind, like a question, and he nodded back, swallowing hard.

The Prince closed his eyes and Logan soon followed. He saw the red-haired man from the pictures, older though, bits of silver at his temples. The man stood next to The Muse, a younger Muse. He was crying. They stood on a slanted rooftop, the sun setting over jagged ruins, one of the old condemned cities being slowly dissolved by the acidic northern sea.

Logan wondered where The Prince was and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he was seeing this memory through his eyes. The Muse’s hands were wrapped in a spiked vine, slithering up his arms and shoulders and tangling in his hair. His own heart beat faster, The Prince’s fear for his brother flooding the vision. “Lucas, maybe we should call—”

“Nah, Ro, I got this,” The Muse interrupted and flashed him a smile. It was short-lived and a sudden movement in the vine drew out a wince.

“Take a breath, Re.” Lucas murmured and his eyes glowed a soft orange, the color of the sky. “You can do this.”

Tears still tracing down his cheeks, The Muse nodded and closed his eyes. After a moment, the vine loosened and he pulled it from his hair and gathered it in his hands. He opened his eyes, smiling now, and the vine transformed into dozens of butterflies, resting on his hands, his arms, his head. 

Lucas smiled at him, his whole face just beaming with pride. Paternal. Focused on his brother and the butterflies, The Muse didn’t notice his expression, but The Prince had.

The Muse reached for The Prince and passed him the largest of the flock, colors shifting on its wings as they slowly opened and closed.

In the memory, The Muse grinned at The Prince, giddy and heedless of the trickles of blood the thorny vine had left along his hairline and neck. He raised his hands and the butterflies took flight around him, a riot of color. “I did it, Ro.”

-”When the world was too much for him, Lucas could pull some of it away, pull away the feelings, at least. Gave him room to…” The Prince made a swirling motion around his head. -”Gave him space in here to control what got in… And what came out. And Re…”- He stiffened and pulled back from their connection, a tic in his eye. “Re looked up to him,” he whispered. “It was hard when—”

The Prince cut himself off, shaking his head. He stared down at his hands and, even without the connection, Logan could imagine he was remembering the butterfly. “Lucas betrayed us. He put Re in danger, put Janus in danger.” He shook his head, swallowing hard. “A couple times now he’s even tried to… recruit me. Corrupt me and make me turn against—”

His jaw flexed and he looked away. “I’m glad he’s gone. Even if…”

“Even if it leaves The Muse without support?” Logan’s mouth snapped shut but to his surprise, instead of anger, The Prince’s eyes just looked… sad.

“He’s not alone,” he insisted softly.

His quiet tone only egged Logan on. “But he is, isn’t he? Locked in that room? Closed off from you, from Silvertongue. From his own powers?”

“The alternative—” The Prince cut himself off, blood and fire and thorns flashing through his mind. “Sorry,” he muttered and sat up straighter. A calm mask fell over his features, creating a void around him that Logan could almost feel. It appeared The Prince had a shield, as well.

“Wait…” Logan reached for him when he stood. “What if there was another option?”

The Prince narrowed his eyes but he sat back down. “What kind of ‘option?’” 

“You remember when I first came to HQ? I have an esper coil that—”

“That fucking thing that blocked my powers?” He shook his head. “Uh-uh, nope, won’t work on him. His shield needs to be much stronger than that. I’ve been in there when it’s on and it’s—”

“We would need to make some adjustments,” Logan admitted. “Tweak the settings. I built that coil in less than a day without anyone to test it on. I know I can improve it with a little time and… help. Isn’t it worth a try?”

The Prince gnawed at the corner of his lip and pierced Logan’s eyes, a bit of that old distrust peeking through. “I won’t let you experiment on my brother.”

“Are you offering yourself as a subject instead?”

Arms crossed over his chest, The Prince looked down at the floor. But after a moment, he nodded. “Maybe I am.”