#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

[v3ddirast4r]

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.

[butterscotch987]

[TSS] I've always imagined Erina's greenhouse to be huge like this:

With her office inside of it, but with more space in the middle for like, just chilling.

But basically more of a conservatory than a greenhouse, really. The reason being it's a facility for her research and there's a lot of it so she needs the space.

Also puts into perspective just how overworked she was in the first parts of season 1 and how she basically burns herself out on purpose when she's trying to avoid facing her emotions whenever I say she throws herself into research instead of feeling her feelings.

Cause look okay she doesn't have lab assistants she's crazy. There's probably some automations there and some magic but the workload would still be insane but ig that's why she's an Imperial Scholar.

Btw I'm talking about my fic, Through the Shadows of Shame which is an Academy's Undercover Professor RomCom MC x OC fic (and it's a HUGE fic at ~155k word story and counting lol S1 has finished and S2 just started so... kachow maybe check it out...?)

[caruliaa]

what about prinxiety enchanted au what ab beautiful ideaa in this world

[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

[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.

[apiratefellinlovewithastar]

Soma is like an elephant in a public school

[bo-bo-bean]

[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