#tss the prince

[let-roman-bite-someone]

oh don’t mind me, just thinking about how roman probably internalized this and decided that his goals and dreams would just be detrimental for thomas.

[analoceits]

shout out to @thegoldenduckie for reblogging my old hollow knight x tss piece and reminding me ive been wanting to draw more of that, prompting me to draw this

also. i WILL being making an analysis post abt logan as the hollow knight bc it makes me INSANEE

[vampypurplequ33n]

F I N A L L Y. I FINISHED THEM.

I FINALLY FINISHED MAKING MY SANDERS SIDES OCS. THEY TOOK FOREVER😭😭😭😭

I tried to make them more like if /I/ had the Sanders Sides characters, and I tried my hardest to make them not just a female version of each of them. I even gave them their own perks and items they use for their ‘jobs’ so it speak- Also, when I finally get the time, I will post higher quality character sheets so you will be able to see their roles and descriptions in better detail :3

Hope you like them!

(When I gain my motivation back ima make comics with these fucking characters)

[roseredbedhead]

🌹 | 🐲 | 🌹 🗡 | 🌠 | 🗡 🐲 | 🌹 | 🐲 🌠 | 🗡 | 🌠

[far-from-fran]

Profic Party | Week one, day 2 | Favorite character(s)

@profiction-edits

[edupunkn00b]

Mad Lads, Chapter 4: Wounds

Prev - Wounds - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

The Mad Lads return from their battle with Hesper and now Logan really doesn’t know what to think.

Rated: M - WC: - CW: Hospital, non graphic injuries, medication, swearing. Random guy imprisoned in the basement. -

Rhythmic, high-pitched beeping battered his ears. Eyelids blinked open but soon squeezed shut against the hot pain shooting through his skull and down his spine. “Too bright,” he tried to mumble past his dry throat. No sound came out. He was cold, his arms and legs bare, his favorite hoodie… somewhere else.

The boy shivered and tried to sit up. He could barely move. The ear-piercing beeping sped up, growing syncopatic as he thrashed in what he now realized was a narrow bed with bars on either side. A door hissed open and a tight, warbly voice cried out from the hallway. “Code purple! I need help in here, now! Code purple! He’s awake!”

The room exploded in activity. Gloved hands appeared, grabbing his legs, his arms, his head. He fought back, twisting away from one of them only to push closer to someone on his other side. In the struggle, he yanked out the tubes stuck in both arms and another below his ribs. Someone swore. “He’s gonna need a new central line!”

“Where the fuck am I? What are you doing to me?” The boy’s voice doubled and tripled on itself and two of the nurses fell to the floor, hands pressed to their ears.

“Dammit, they weren’t in PPE,” another voice hissed. “Get them out of here.”

He squinted against the lights aimed at his eyes. He could just make out the figures in the room. Eight or nine adults surrounded his bed. Each wore hospital scrubs, bonnets like the ones on the vidscreens. Thick goggles hid most of what little skin poked out above their face masks.

They all wore bright orange earmuffs.

The boy craned his neck and saw two more people in green scrubs sprawled on the floor, unconscious. He shivered. Dead? The others in the room simply stepped over them as they rushed about, toting bags of fluid and instrument trays. One of them wheeled a silver cart next to the bed. The top was covered in shiny metal tools, curved and sharp. They picked up a tool with a long handle and a jagged, glinting tip.

Before he could even think about it, the boy ripped one arm away and out of the restraints. He shoved the nurse with the sharp thing away from him. “Don’t touch me! Don't fucking touch me!" The other staff began to back away as he used his free arm to tug and pull at his other restraints.

“Now, Mr. Morado, calm down. Everything will be fine. We just need you to—”

“Fuck that! ” He leapt out of the bed and was at the door before he finished the first word. How the— He shook his head. It didn’t matter. “I’m getting out of here and you’re not touching me with—”

He ran smack into someone in the hallway. At the speed he was moving, he should’ve knocked him right off his feet. Instead the man stood tall and smiled down at him with firm, gentle, multi-chromatic eyes.

“Hush now, child. Everything’s going to be alright.” Smooth and honey sweet, the man’s voice filled his ears and his mind. It blocked out the sound of the hospital PA system, the frightened shouts coming from behind the nurse’s station, even his own heart thudding in his chest. He looked down, bare feet slipping in the blood pouring from his abdomen where he’d ripped out the tangle of tubes and wires.

The boy’s vision blackened at the edges. He stumbled closer to the man and fell into his arms as the darkness fell over him.

“Everything's going to be alright, child,” Janus promised again. He cradled the boy in his arms close to his chest, then carried him back to his bed.

~

Janus sat in the last row of the Mad Lads’ transport and put up a low-esper interference field. None of them were happy about the way Hesper had slipped away, but Janus of all people should’ve known it had been little more than a honeypot.

Not a trap meant to hurt them, of course. No, never that. Hesper’s fucking principles meant he’d never stoop so low as to actually harm them.

Harm others, though? Harm anyone who, in his twisted little balance sheet had done enough damage that their death had sufficient… utils? No, that Janus wouldn’t—couldn’t—put past him.

No. No, today’s alarm had merely been Hesper testing out the boundaries of their monitoring, with the CarbonEx board of directors the sticky bait that kept them busy long enough for him to get away. Janus knew that move.

He’d taught him that move.

So Janus kept up the interference field. The rest of the team had no need to bear the weight of his own self-admonishment. In these tight quarters, with everyone’s senses dialed up to eleven with the adrenaline of the fight… Janus’ guilt spilling over into their minds would be inevitable without it.

“Hey, Jan?”

Janus cracked one eye open. Virgil had slid into the seat next to him, a security screen in his hands. “Something wrong at HQ?” Dammit, maybe this wasn’t over yet.

“No, it’s not Hesper.” Virgil was near enough now to hear some of his worries. “We’re safe, it’s…” He frowned and handed him the screen. It was zoomed in to the main room, three different cameras spliced together to show a 280° interior view of the main door. Splashed across the screen was Machina, well, Logan, briefly dangling from his mech before falling to the floor with enough force to jostle one of the cameras.

Janus gasped when the mech fell toward him, letting out a sharp breath when it hit the wall instead. It was eerily reminiscent of the video of his attack at the DC. He could only imagine what it had been like through Logan’s eyes.

It was only then he realized the feed was silent. “Are the sound pick-ups damaged?”

“It’s not live…” He shook his head, eyes fixed on Logan as he clawed his way out from the gap between his mech and the wall. “I… I muted the recording,” he finally explained with a shudder.

They watched him struggle to open his chair and climb up into it. “Pat?” Janus called up to the front of the transport. There was nothing but green-blue sea out the viewport. “How far out are we?”

“About an hour from HQ. All those hops chasing his signal took us a ways out in the boonies.” He swiveled in his seat. “Everything okay?”

The rose growing in Roman’s palm disappeared and his head jerked up at the concern in Patton’s voice. Janus was quick to nod. “Everything’s fine,” he lied. “What’s the delay on this?” he asked Virgil when the others seemed at least temporarily mollified by his answer.

“Twenty minutes,” he shrugged. He tapped at the screen and the video feed replayed at triple speed until it slowed, the camera angles automatically tracking Logan’s movement from the common room to the medbay. “This is live.”

They watched as he cleaned the wound at the back of his head, wincing at the bright red seeping through the gauze. “Pain killers are too high for him to reach like that,” Janus muttered. “Why didn’t he use the mech?”

“It doesn’t fit.” Virgil shook his head. “I saw him try it when I rolled back the recording.”

Janus nodded, eyes fixed on the video feed. Virgil patted his hand and shrugged. “Hold on to that.” He smiled, or at least tried to, and jerked his head toward the front of the transport. “I’ll go keep them company.”

“Thank you, Virge,” Janus murmured as he left, and watched Logan finish up, then roll down the dormitory hall. He tapped the screen to kill the feed. With the base’s impact detection and other internal alarms, they’d be alerted if Logan needed help. Janus didn’t need to spy as he went to his room to rest. They’d be back soon.

~

Logan had just made it back to the ground level when a bell dinged in the common room. Moving slowly, he rolled down the hall and peered out just as the floor opened and the Mad Lads climbed back up the way they’d left.

No-one appeared to be injured, though they moved slowly, staying close to each other. The Prince leaned in to the little back rub Patton gave him, and Ultraviolet nodded when Silvertongue gripped his shoulder and gave him a tight smile. Faces drawn and stiff, they looked exhausted.

Or dejected.

“How about I make us all something to drink?” Patton said, putting on a smile.

The Prince collapsed face down on the couch with a groan. “That sounds nice, Padre,” he mumbled. Silvertongue settled in a chair near the main door, fingers steepled. He didn’t speak aloud to anyone, but silence could mean anything from him.

Plopping down near The Prince’s head, Ultraviolet played with his hair and smiled up at the last standing Mad Lad. “Yeah, thanks, Pat.”

Patton tilted his head and looked right at Logan, dashing his hope that he might have been unnoticed from his vantage point. “I hope you’ll join us, Machina,” he said with a rapid nod.

Four sets of eyes locked on to him.

“If—if it wouldn’t be an imposition,” he nodded. Until he understood who they’d imprisoned in the basement—and why— he needed to keep up the appearance of a grateful if reluctant guest. “Per—perhaps I may be of service i—in the kitchen?”

“Oh, Kid—Machina, sorry,” Patton winced. “I haven’t finished reorganizing the kitchen… it’s, uh…”

Silvertongue turned to look at him, his eyes lingering briefly at the reddish brown stain near the door. Dammit, he hadn’t noticed the blood. “The kitchen is not yet accessible for you,” Silvertongue murmured. “But perhaps you will allow me to examine your wound?”

“It—it—it’s nothing, I…” he shrugged. Ultraviolet’s eyes darted over to his mech sitting in the corner. They know. How could they know?

“Security cameras,” Silvertongue murmured and rose to his feet.

“Y—you’ve been watch—watching me?”

“No.” Ultraviolet shook his head. “Well, not intentionally. The system noted an impact against the door and pinged me. I checked the feeds and… We saw you get hurt.”

“I turned it off when you went down the hall to your room,” Silvertongue added. “Bedrooms and bathrooms do not have cameras.”

The Prince mumbled something too quiet for him to hear and Logan nodded. “I see.” Silvertongue was still standing, waiting for permission to check his head. “Can I say no?”

“Of course you may,” he purred. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

Logan searched their faces. Patton gave him a little smile then excused himself to the kitchen. A mix of annoyance and guilt flashed over Ultraviolet’s face and he turned away. The Prince… The Prince wouldn’t even look at him.

He nodded. “I suppose it would be wise.”

Silvertongue actually smiled and led him to the medbay.

~

Thankfully, the medbeds were eminently adjustable and Logan could set it to a comfortable height so he could move himself onto one, sparing him the indignity of Silvertongue picking him up like a child. Or an invalid.

Without your suit, though, isn’t that exactly what you are?

Silvertongue wasted no time and worked quietly, muttering quiet apologies when his probing drew a pained sound from the back of Logan’s throat. “You did a good job cleaning the wound. I apologize we did not have the foresight to properly equip the lower shelves and drawers.” He paused, and Logan stiffened at the light brush against his mind, mental fingers checking if a wire was live the old-fashioned—and dangerous—way.

Silvertongue retreated and spoke his question aloud. “I am… surprised to see you out of your mech. Is the chair more comfortable?”

“Y—well…” Logan shifted on the table, fighting to reconcile the gentleness of Silvertongue’s touch and words with the man imprisoned in the basement. They would be able to see what had happened on the video, might have already seen his aborted exploration in the suit. “It doesn’t fit through the doorways.”

“Ah,” he breathed.

“It’s fine,” Logan muttered. “I’ll make do.”

Silvertongue nodded and continued his examination. When he was done, he moved to the counter and opened two drawers. “We ordinarily keep excess supplies in the lower drawers, but we don’t have any pain killers within reach.” Within your reach, he didn’t speak, but the thought echoed through his mind just the same. “Would moving them here be acceptable to you?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, too surprised to consider his answer. “Than—thank you.”

He tinkered with the contents of the top shelf for a moment and finally pulled down a large kit. “Perhaps there are be other items in here you would find useful.” He unzipped the cover and laid out creams and ointments, tiny bottles of various pills. “Do you take any regular medications?”

“I… I had been prescribed a nerve blocker.” Logan shook his head. “Dialadine. I stopped once the supply from the hospital ran out. It’s… cost prohibitive.”

Nodding, Silvertongue tapped a screen on the inner cabinet door. “Anything else?”

“I—ibuprofen,” he stuttered. Silvertongue pulled a large bottle down from the cabinet. “A—and vitamin D.”

He tapped at the screen again, but when Logan fell silent, Silvertongue frowned. “You weren’t prescribed… psychotropics of any kind? Paroxetine? Zenlat? Not even topiramate?”

Shrinking in his chair, Logan shook his head. Did they want to drug him? Maybe they wanted drugs to keep the prisoner in the basement sedated? But they seemed to have no problem obtaining… anything they wanted.

Silvertongue was staring at him. “Your doctors prescribed you nothing for PTSD?”

“Insurance would only cover what was strictly medically necessary.”

Silvertongue swore and a wave of frustration and outrage crashed and fizzled in Logan’s mind.

Not outrage at him, though. Outrage for him. Outrage on his behalf.

It was over in a moment, the traces dancing along the edges of his perception. Silvertongue had folded his hands behind his back and his face was a placid, calm mask. “I know someone, if you’d be willing to meet with him.” He met Logan’s eyes. “You can trust him.”

“I’ll consider it,” Logan promised. “I…” The Mad Lads had left before they’d had any discussions about the logistics of this arrangement. And what his financial responsibilities would be. He looked down at the floor. “I am uncertain how to… contribute.”

Silvertongue paused, then brought the medicine kit to the medbed. “You literally built yourself a mech single-handedly—” Logan’s head shot up, expecting ridicule or disgust to accompany the near pun. But Silvertongue’s smile was warm. “Even before any of this, you demonstrated you have the heart of a hero, you’re brave, and you keep your head in the heat of the moment.”

Logan’s face warmed and his mouth went dry, unsure how to handle such open praise.

“I am certain your skills will come in handy with the team.”

He worked his mouth for several long seconds before he finally managed to whisper. “Th—thank you. I—” His deeper concern was not yet answered. “I…” He looked around the medbay. “I imagine HQ is expensive to maintain. I… I do not have… financial resources to contribute.”

“Oh.” Silvertongue blinked, confusion painted across his face, then he smiled again. “Oh! Machina, no. No-one expects that of you. Between Patton and I and the occasional income from various missions… we have it covered. We’re a team.”

Logan stared, the praise, the promise of no longer needing to worry about how he’d afford medicine or food… It was dizzying.

It was almost enough to forget his questions about the prisoner in the basement. Was he really allowed to say ‘no?’ Was the man downstairs the last person who turned down a position on their team?

Silvertongue misinterpreted his hesitance. “You’ve had a lot to absorb. Here.” He turned the kit and set a few bins from the drawer next to it. “Put anything you might find useful in these and we’ll move it to the lower drawers. Take your time, I’ll go check on Patton’s progress.”

He nodded dumbly and managed a small smile before he pulled out anything he recognized from the medicine kit, and a few things he’d only heard of, and organized them in the trays.

His questions would have to wait for another day.

[jackstheprinceofhearts]

decided to do a fun little challenge for you guys!!!

what is your main song for each of your favorite characters from any books you associate with them? you can do any characters you'd like, not just ouabh :))

my main jacks songs:

froot by marina & what he don't know by anarbor

songs i associate with august flynn from this savage song:

telescope by cavetown & remembrance/final duet from the omori soundtrack (that's what i imagine when he plays the violin)

reblog/ comment yours :)

[potato-goose-tornado]

Doing this BEFORE my duolingo, so I don't forget again like the IDIOT I am!

Okay, since I am tired and love magic/modern fantasy, let's just do something fun and fae, okay?

(Just letting you know, if you want to do this with me specifically, I am very like, not normal about basic fae rules, as well as the fae in general so... you don't HAVE to know a lot, but if you want to play the fae character, feel free to ask for some basic lore so we can get it semi-accurate. I am an autistic bitch, I am not normal with fae rules)

Anywho, little disclaimer over

This is inspired by The Moth Prince on Webtoon! I love it so much! Go read it, it's super good!

Character A is a person who enjoys stories of magic, and supernatural, and all of the like. They don't necessarily *believe* in that stuff, but they do enjoy it as a medium, of expression as well as finding it fun!

One day, while on a hike in the woods, they come across Character B, a Fae that had been kicked out of the local court with nothing. They have no help, vague memories of their time in the court, no possessions to keep them safe, and--most terrifyingly--no *name*, as it was stripped from them as they were expelled by the court.

So, when Character A finds a--potentionally wounded--incredibly stressed person in the woods (are they human? The antenna says no), they take it upon themselves to try and help them! Causing them to panic, try and run away, only to trip on a root and knock themselves out! Whoops!

Character A decides to take this poor... thing that is definitely not human (ohmygodthey'renothumanwhattheshit) back to their home to take care of them! Leaving Character B stuck in Debt to Character A! Yay!

You decide where it goes from there! I'm personally thinking Character B decides to stay with Character A until they can remove the Debt, as it is never a good idea to be Indebted. This leads to Character A showing Character B more and more about humanity, as they build a relationship and start to fall for eachother.

Something sweet and campy, and oh my gosh my heart!

[philfromhell]

Worm orange side + worm vine characters! (Including the teacher, the prince, the dad, and anxiety). Again, everything is the same for them except they’re worms

[apiratefellinlovewithastar]

Soma is like an elephant in a public school

[bo-bo-bean]

[let-roman-bite-someone]

i was looking through my chat with an old friend and found this

same energy ✨

[analoceits]

please take this actually incomprehensible image based off the convo me and @thegoldenduckie had last night.

[nonbinary-octopus]

nice

dressed up in Patton’s Dad's clothes, lol

Spider Prince Virgil from @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors 's series Love and Other Fairytales.

I forgot I could post art here lmao I haven't done much recently but I reread LAOFT over the weekend and I just needed to draw my guy here he's my favourite, what a dude.

Another doodle under the cut which is technically a spoiler for the newest extra in the series too :3

I absolutely loved Lila too <3

[kamapon]

And finally, the dragon prince!

I've already finished my Overbottled (badm*tss*) set!!

I'll be opening preorders soon so stay tuned!

[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.”