#ts superhero au

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 11: Hesper

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

Prev - Hesper - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan meets Hesper and he's only left with more questions. Everything has a beginning, though, and not even Abracadabra was what it is now.

“Kiddos are all in bed,” Patton sighed as he settled into the seat adjacent to Luc, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Janus opened his eyes in time to catch Luc’s faux scowl at Patton’s tousle.

“Gorgeous as always, mon cher,” he whispered, smoothing Luc’s auburn curls back into place. “Simply gorgeous.”

With a blush that rivaled his hair, Luc smiled but quickly sobered and blew on his tea. “You said you had news?”

Setting aside the little flash he caught from Patton, Janus nodded and straightened in his seat. He took Luc’s free hand as he shifted away from the comfortable home he’d made nestled against his side. “I do,” he began, working to keep the worst of his worries shielded from the other two.

And from the children’s drowsing minds.

Luc and Patton’s expressions told him he needed more practice. “What is it, Jan?” Patton asked, reaching for his other hand as Luc gripped his brother’s forearm. Together, they made a little triangle as the night sky darkened outside the big bay window. “Is it bad?”

“It’s… an opportunity,” Janus licked dry lips and painted on something like a smile. His scars pulled at one side of his face, hampering the intended encouraging effect. “I was contacted by the new mentalists department at Abracadabra.”

“The start-up? How—“

Janus’ eyes flicked down to his own wrist and his great-grandfather’s antique Casio, an anachronism even in that time.

“The ‘Foundation…’” Luc sucked his teeth and he closed his eyes, likely hiding his battle for control. After a moment, he calmed and met Janus’ eyes with a crooked smile. “What did those capos want from you?”

Janus sighed, a low near-growl. “They offered me a job.”

“Me, too,” Patton whispered, rubbing little circles against Luc’s arm. “This morning.”

“You both said ‘no,’ right?” Luc’s eyes were wide as he looked between them. His smile faded at Janus’ silence. “Love, tell me you said ‘no.’”

“I…” Janus slid closer to each of them. Patton only tightened his grip on Janus’ hand. “I believe this is an opportunity we can’t discount. We—“

“We need to stay as far from them as we fucking can!” Luc’s fingers tingled against his skin and he moved up to grip Janus’ sleeve. Safer that way. But he didn’t concede. “You think just because they’ve stopped hunting Powereds we’re suddenly safe?”

“No. I think we’re safer together. I think we’re safer integrated into society rather than maintaining this us vs. them mentality. Let us be a part of the shared solution. We have so much to contribute, we—“

“Oh, open a fucking history book!” Luc closed his eyes, orange flickering beneath his lashes. When he opened then again, his tone was softer. Just barely. “Love, they’ve just moved on to co-option. Sure, now they want to work with the ‘right kind’ of Powerds like you and Pat and—“

“Luc,” Janus warned, stroking his arm. An itch at the base of his spine told him they wouldn’t be alone for long.

But Luc either couldn’t—wouldn’t?—hear him. He released Janus’ arm and had begun counting on his fingers. “Step two is when they tell us it’s only the ‘risky’ Powerds they need to tamp down on. ‘Four legs good, two legs better,’ right?”

“Luc!” Janus said more forcefully, casting a quick glance at Patton.

Both of the elder Powerd’s hands now gripped Luc’s arm and he tugged gently, keeping him seated. “Lukie, maybe Jan’s right. Maybe we—“

“What, we should heel at the corporation’s side? Strap on our own muzzles so we can duck step together when they figure out their final solution is cull the herd of the dangerous Powerds like—“

“Like Re?” Low and quiet from the hallway, Virgil’s voice managed to cut through Luc’s rant. 

Luc deflated, eyes glowing as he swallowed his next argument. “Yeah, Virge. Like Re, and maybe Ro, too. Anyone they think is dangerous and uncontrolled.” He frowned at Janus. “Or uncontrollable.”

“Dangerous?” Virgil asked, sliding into the room and sitting cross-legged on the coffee table between them. He jerked his chin at the pictures of Luc and Patton’s old orphanage. “Like you?”

“Now, Kiddo,” Patton began. “That fire wasn’t his—“

Luc cut him off with a sad smile and a little shoulder squeeze before turning to meet the teenager’s eyes. “Yeah, Virge, dangerous like me, too.”

Virgil’s memory of his truncated hospital stay flooded Janus’ mind, nurses sprawled on the floor, blood pooling from eyes and ears, soaking through their face masks.

“Yeah, I know it wasn’t his fault, Pops.” Virgil’s eyes were teary behind his floppy bangs as he turned to face Janus, hands shoved in his pockets. “What do these capos want you to do?”

~

“Tin Man, let’s go!” V called over his shoulder from the top of the stairs. Orange lights still glowed from the ceiling but at least the alarm had stopped.

Patton and Silvertongue had already run down to prep the transport and map their route. A low whine from the engines filtered up from below, a little shimmer to the air as dust kicked up from the lower landing pad. 

Behind him, The Prince huffed, loudly, as Logan struggled to get situated in his suit. 

Logan focused on breathing, ignoring the pounding behind his eyes and the ache in his arm. He briefly regretted not sleeping while he could, a regret that dissolved when he closed his eyes and The Muse’s shaky smile filled his vision.

Palm sweaty, his hand skid along the edge of the mech’s chest cavity but he caught himself, fingers wedged between the collar and chest plate. He pulled and pushed against the mech’s waist with his stronger stump, muscles trembling. 

“Sorry,” he grunted. “Almost got—“

“Oh, come on!” The Prince snapped, physically hauling Logan higher and depositing him inside the mech. Logan swallowed back a curse and glared at the Powered.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” he growled.

The Prince rolled his eyes and pushed him toward the stairs. “Or what? You’ll fuck things up?” He glanced down at the mech’s heavy durasteel boots. “‘Sorry,’” he muttered, anything but. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

Heat flooded Logan’s face and neck, hurt and rage warring just under his skin. “You son of a—“

“Princey! Mac! Now!” V’s beckoned from the stairwell, glaring at each of them in turn. “Or we’ll leave you both behind.”

~

The transport door clanged shut and they shot up into the sky and over the churning Atlantic. Logan didn’t know how much of his altercation with The Prince everyone else had heard, but save for a few quiet mutters between The Prince and Patton up at the controls, the team was silent. He felt the brush of Silvertongue’s questioning thoughts, a warm request, no, an invitation to share. Logan simply shook his head and concentrated on checking the mech’s systems.

Satisfied he was powered up and ready, he watched the screens at the front of the transport, following as they raced over greenish grey waters.

Before long, Patton banked right, aiming for a landing platform somewhere off the coast. Which coast, Logan had no idea. Before them stretched a sprawling city, bright lights casting a haze in the low clouds. Silver towers sparkled, rising up out of the jagged reefs of the drowned coastal city that had come before it. 

“I can’t tell if he’s still there.” Patton broke the silence, pointing to a screen where flickering orange lights blipped at seemingly random spots.

“He’s here,” Silvertongue’s eyes were closed but his voice was clear. “Prince? Can you cover our approach?”

“Happily.” The Prince tapped a different screen and it resolved into a view of the landing platform. His eyes half-shut as he watched the dozen or so deck crew move between the ships. Without warning, they ducked low and drew up neon-striped hoods. As though fleeing from a sudden squall, they all sprinted toward the big building at the center of the platform. 

All but one.

The last hold out shielded their eyes from some unseen attack and peered up at the sky. They staggered to the closest ship, a tool in their hand.

“Take her down quiet as you can, Popstar,” V murmured and moved closer to Logan, showing him a tablet. “Any idea what he’s doing, Mac?”

The image on V’s tablet followed their approach, zoomed in as far as it would go. V had set a split screen to infrared. The figure—Hesper?—wielded a gun-like tool, glowing orange under infrared, bright white sparking from the tip. This close, Logan could make out a welder’s face plate under his hood.

“Soldering something onto the hull?” Hesper moved a few feet, leaving behind a rapidly cooling palm-sized circle. He repeated his actions then jumped to the next ship in line. “A tracker, maybe?”

“Not an explosive?” V asked, frowning. 

Logan watched the screen and shook his head. “It’s too cold. And he’s using quick cool-solder. Safer for microprocessors but not as strong.” He shrugged. “Explosive casings are heavier, thicker. He’d need to use standard epoxy or… magnets, maybe?” 

After a long moment, V nodded. He slipped the tablet into his vest and opened his mouth as if to say more, but the transport shuddered under their feet. “Everyone ready?” Patton asked, hand hovering over a door panel.

The Prince nodded, eyes now closed as he moved to the doors, joining V and Silvertongue.

Logan lowered his own face shield and helmet. “Ready.”

Patton slapped the controls and the big door opened with a bang. Hesper didn’t even look up as they circled him, just pulled his hood lower over his head and shuddered.

Before Logan could ask what The Prince was doing to him, Silvertongue sent a single word, -“Now!”-

The Prince’s eyes shot open and Hesper spun around, the movement knocking back his hood to reveal form-fitting headgear.

He tapped the helmet, shaking his head. “Guess this wasn’t worth the price I paid for it if you could still get into my head so easily, dear Prince.” He tucked the soldering gun under his arm and then, finger by finger, peeled off his safety gloves. He left them where they fell and flexed his bared hands. “Glad to see you all came out to play. Well…”

Looking up at Logan, Hesper seemed to stare right through his face plate. “We know how it is. Too bad I have to take a rain check tonight.” He flipped on his solder gun and ran straight for Logan.

On his heels, Patton grabbed at Hesper’s jacket. He wormed out of it then dodged V’s attack. Overcompensating, Hesper slid and landed on his back, centimeters from the mech’s left leg.

Without thinking, Logan stepped up and down, foot pressed—slightly—on Hesper’s chest.

Patton hissed behind him but grew still, arms loose and ready at his sides. Immediate danger passed, V inspected the devices Hesper had fastened to the ship’s hull. He scanned each with the tablet’s sensors before prying off the closest and crushing it under his boot. “Basic trackers,” he said, nodding to Logan, and they all turned to Silvertongue.

“What is all this, Hesper?” he asked, eyes hooded. He didn’t look happy at what Logan had done, frowning in his direction. But he didn’t stop him, either, so Logan just waited, foot locked on Hesper’s chest.

“My, my, my… My dearest Tongue of Silver,” Hesper purred. Head tilted, he managed to look down at Silvertongue even from his sprawled position on the cracked peri-ment platform. “You’ve brought along an extra army of one this time.” He thunked his knuckles against the mech’s ankle servos. “All for me?”

A not-quite shadow flashed over Janus’ face, quick, nearly too quick for Logan to catch. Even with Silvertongue’s back to him, The Prince must’ve felt it, whatever it was, because he stepped closer, eyes boring into Hesper’s obscured face.

“Release him, Machina,” Janus instructed, gaze focused on Hesper. “He’s clean.”

Hesper leapt to his feet with an acrobat’s grace the moment Logan lifted the mech’s foot. “Why, thank you.” He bowed his head with a flourish and Logan watched his mech’s reflection shift and warp on Hesper’s shiny helmet. 

With no way of knowing where Hesper was looking, Logan felt like it was everywhere at once.

For all his theatrics, Hesper now behaved as though they were nothing but a minor inconvenience, impolite visitors who crashed an open house. He hummed under his breath, easily picked up by his mic, and made a show of brushing off his synthcloth tactical pants and straightening an old vest that looked a lot like V’s. Sighing heavily, he produced a pristine white cloth and bent over to polish away a smudge from his boots.

Janus watched him with half-lidded eyes, hands flexing at his sides. “What are you up to now, Hesper?” He gestured around them, voice sharp. Acidic. “Why here?”

“And what makes you think I didn’t trigger your alarms so I could have a little company, hm?” He shrugged and carefully folded his handkerchief before secreting it away in a breast pocket. “You know… just like Re used to?”

“Wha—” 

Before Logan could finish his blurted question, The Prince stomped forward, hands splayed in front of him, a glowing haze forming between his fingers. “Take my brother’s name from your mouth, fiend,” he growled, drawing close to Hesper. “Or I’ll rip it out with your tongue!”

But as The Prince moved, the air… flickered near his right foot. The mirage tugged at Logan’s mind the same way the faulty Pickerbot had back at the DC, the first time, before he’d found the flaw in its circuitry. 

Remembering V’s concern about explosives, Logan flipped on his HUD infrared. Heat poured from the cracked peri-ment, far more heat than could be explained away by the underlying HVAC piping. The ground glowed in blinding purples and white, spiking well past 85° centigrade.

“Prince, look out!” he shouted and pushed his servos to a run. 

Patton’s call to Logan cut off and he copied him instead, half-carrying, half-dragging V and Silvertongue away in the opposite direction.

The Prince swore as Logan slammed into him and knocked them both to the ground. Arms locked around him, he pulled The Prince with him into a roll. He stopped, propped onto the mech’s elbows, erecting a cage of durasteel limbs and torso around the Powered just as the floor exploded behind them.

Precisely where The Prince had stood a moment before.

“Are you—”

“I’m good, Tin Man. Let me up,” he muttered, shimmying his bulky shoulders out from Logan’s mech suit shield. -”Thanks,”- he said in Logan’s mind as he stood.

“Anytime,” Logan said aloud and followed him to Silvertongue’s side. Patton crouched a few feet behind him, inspecting V’s hand.

“Tell me!” Silvertongue was demanding, eyes molten gold. “Tell me how you did that without—”

“Without you poking around in here…” Hesper’s laugh was crusted in ice as he waggled his fingers around his head. “Ma cheri! L’amour de ma—”

“Tell me!” Janus’ shout reverberated through Logan’s skull. Even The Prince took a step backwards, head bowed and one hand pressed to his temple. Patton slid closer, nodding quietly to V and Logan watched them all, waiting for any sort of hint of what he had planned.

Hesper just laughed again. “There was no guilt to sense, my dear Silvertongue,” He shrugged. “Not from me at least.” Hesper gestured, almost bored, at the jagged, steaming hole in the landing pad, then at The Prince. “It was his anger, his rage that triggered the charge. I wasn’t sure it would work, but our dear Prince of Dreams always did have quite the temper.”

He fully faced The Prince then. “Ever since you were a little boy.”

Patton reached out and just rested one hand on The Prince’s shoulder. Given the recordings Logan had seen of Papa Bear wrestling an activated Muse into control, he had no doubt a light touch was all he needed to keep The Prince steady.

“Enough with the games, Hesper,” V said from Silvertongue’s other side. “No-one believes you dragged us out here in the middle of the night for a parlor trick.”

Hesper shrugged again, backing away toward the edge of the landing platform. “Worried I’m going to make it a habit of interrupting your beauty sleep?” 

He stood on the ledge, one foot hovering behind him. “Besides,” he directed his attention to Logan again. “I know you weren’t all asleep.”

Face flushed beneath his mask, Logan’s fingers flexed against the controls but the suit remained still. Then Hesper stepped off the platform and onto a waiting airskiff.

“Ta ta, for now!” he laughed, voice amplified to carry over the roar of thrusters as he flew off into the smoggy night air.

#Meus ex Machina #sanders sides #ts janus #ts patton #ts lucas #ts logan #ts roman #ts virgil #ts remus #superhero au #Janus Gates #Patton Hart #Lucas Hart #Logan Sanders #Roman Prince #Virgil Morado #Remus Prince #Silvertongue #Machina #Ultraviolet #Papa Bear #The Prince #Hesper #The Muse #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #intruglogical #we're getting there‚ I swear :D

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

On Death's Doorstep (pt 39/?)

[<<First],,,,[<Prev],[Next>] [ODD Masterlist]

Word count: 1381

Rating: Teen

Pairings: familial Losleep, past Logan/ofc, minor Karrot Kings & Anxceit

Warnings: dysfunctional family dynamics, past character death, I may have killed the therapist but we’re still managing to work through some feelings, google translate Spanish

~~~START~~~

A lot was happening in a very small amount of time and Remy suspected another move was in her future. Virgil’s dads — who were really nice — had been moved into the building and were now living in Janus’s spare room; Patton's room was still technically Roman’s spare room, but he’d been sleeping downstairs with his grandpas for the past few days. It would make more sense for them to have their own floor, besides Remy had been living in Roman’s room on Roman’s floor essentially all by herself ever since Virgil left. 

Not that this really counted as living by herself, Barbra — who she wasn’t comfortable calling grandma just yet — or the twins, or Virgil’s dads were constantly popping in to check on her. Janus hadn’t been around much, and Remy knew they were up to something, but no one would tell her what it was.

She hadn’t seen Logan since the day after Virgil left, and she was perfectly content to go on not seeing him. 

But all good things — not that this was very good, it was neutral at best — must come to an end, and when Remy heard at knock at the door, she found that it had been Logan. 

“Remy,” Logan inclined his head, making no move to try to step past her into the apartment. 

“Logan.” Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought he winced at the use of his name. 

“You can’t hate me forever,” Logan stated, a faint undercurrent of anger coloring his voice. 

“Wanna bet?” Remy arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. She had plenty of experience arguing with would-be father figures from arguing with Mike, Logan had no idea what he was in for. 

“I did not kill you–”

“You think that’s what I’m mad about?” Remy demanded, cutting him off vehemently. 

Logan frowned, attempting to push his glasses further up his nose despite the fact that they had not slipped down even a millimeter. 

“I do not see any other reason for your hostility towards me.”

“Estúpido!” Remy hissed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Completo idiota! Lo siguiente que me vas a decir es que no sabes de dónde vienen los bebés! Eres un genio, te apuesto–”

“El príncipe es estupido!” Logan interjected suddenly, completely derailing Remy’s train of thought as she struggled to figure out what that meant. 

“What?”

Logan’s gaze locked on the door hinges as he actually looked embarrassed for the first time since Remy had met him. 

“I–” he started, cutting himself off and starting again. “I am ashamed to admit that spoken languages have never been my strong suit, and even when I was living with your mother I never reached a level of fluency required to understand native speakers when they truly got going.”

“…so you told me that the prince is stupid?” Remy asked. Surely there was something she was missing that would make this whole interaction make sense, she just couldn’t see what it was. 

“Yes,” Logan agreed and refused to elaborate further. 

The two of them stood in awkward silence for a moment before Remy decided to bite the bullet. 

“So what happened?” She asked. “Between you and mom, I mean.”

“Your mother, as you likely know, does not like superpowers,” Logan started slowly. 

Remy nodded, her mom had never said as much — not to her anyway — but over the years she’d gotten the sense that Remy’s powers stressed her mom out quite a bit. The manner of Remy’s death probably hurt her almost as much as her actual death. 

“I was well aware of that while I was dating her, but as I had no intentions of becoming either a hero or a villain, I thought… perhaps I could be an exception.” Logan was clearly deeply uncomfortable with this conversation by the way he was twitching and shifting, but he continued. “I did not tell her that I had powers. One day, a month before your third birthday, she found me using my technokinesis in my workshop. She decided to leave and take you with her.”

“And what?” Remy demanded. “You just let her go? You didn’t want me?”

“Of course I wanted you!” Logan snapped. “But your mother wanted nothing to do with me! She threatened to turn me in to the authorities should I ever try to contact her or you again.”

“For having powers?” Remy asked. “That’s not a crime.”

“For selling my technology to supervillains.”

“Oh.”

All the fight drained out of Remy then, she was still angry, but she couldn’t exactly be upset at Logan for leaving if her mom had been the one to leave him. 

“Technokinesis sounds cool,” She said eventually, grimacing at the way Logan lit up at the clear opening. 

“Thank you. Successful inventions do require a knowledge base to build off of, but just allowing the technology to control itself does allow for some interesting experimentation. If you don’t mind me saying, I have noticed that you’ve added some interesting technology of your own to your repertoire.”

Remy shifted in embarrassment. “Yeah well… I just reverse engineered some shit I stole off of Gemini, which… were yours, weren’t they?”

“It was indeed my ‘shit’ that you got from Roman and Remus,” Logan preened. “I have been very impressed with your engineering talents; your ability to recreate and improve upon unfamiliar technology is astounding!”

“Uh, thanks,” Remy mumbled, not quite used to this level of excitement or encouragement from a parental figure. “Is that what you wanted to talk about? My ‘engineering talents’?”

“Ah, no,” Logan shifted from excited to almost embarrassed quickly. “I– I am aware that you are uncomfortable in my presence as I am your absentee father, as it were, and a supervillain, but I would like you to move in with me. On the top floor.”

Remy narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“For many reasons,” Logan replied, slipping into teacher-mode. “For one, you are a minor, and living by yourself would supply you with undue amounts of stress–”

“I’m seventeen,” Remy objected. “And I’m hardly living by myself.”

“For another thing,” Logan continued, heedlessly. “Janus has informed me that living with their pseudo in-laws is ‘incredibly awkward’, and moving the Flores-Sanderses and Patton to their own floor would benefit everyone involved immensely. And finally, I cannot live with my mother anymore, she is driving me up the wall, so to speak.”

“Babs?” Remy asked. “What’s wrong with Babs?”

Logan’s eyebrows twitched every time Remy called his mom “Babs”, but he declined to comment on the use of the nickname. “As I’m sure you are aware by now, my mother is clairvoyant. I do not appreciate my every thought being taken as an invitation to have a conversation. I love my mother very much, but living with her is an exhausting exercise in control.” 

Remy couldn’t help the way her lips twitched into a smirk. 

“It is not funny!” Logan snapped. “I am a grown man, I do not need my mother weighing in on my dietary decisions!”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Remy deadpanned. 

“Do not think I don’t recognize an Avatar quote when I hear one, my brother was quite a fan of cartoons and he was very insistent that I watch that particular one with him. He said I was very much like Sokka and was adamant that there were many important lessons to be learned from the program.”

“He sounds smart,” Remy commented, well aware that the twins claimed Logan was reluctant to talk about Emile Picani. 

“He was very smart,” Logan agreed with a far off look in his eyes. “His methods were unconventional, but effective nonetheless. He would have been an exceptional therapist, or anything else he set his mind to.”

Remy shifted uncomfortably, she knew what was coming, but she still couldn’t quite believe it when the words slipped past her lips. “I’ll move in with you.”

“…really?” Logan asked incredulously. “You do not need to decide right away.”

“No I– I’m sure. After all, someone needs to save you from living with your mom well into your seventies.”

“I am not in my seventies,” Logan frowned. 

“Not yet,” Remy teased, relishing the way Logan’s frown deepened. 

He wasn’t ‘dad’, not yet, but so far, he was a vast improvement on Mike. 

~~~END~~~

It’s been three months since the last time I posted a chapter 😅 I had a two-ish month writing slump that I’ve finally managed to work through, plus

It’s the TWO YEAR anniversary of ODD!!!

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14 @lunatatic

#ts sanders sides #sanders sides #logan sanders #remy sanders #on death’s doorstep #superhero au #thursday writes #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

[darth-does-stuff]

mither logan sonal

#beloved dumbass boy <3 #superhero au #ts #ts logan #sanders sides #logan sanders #my art

[transexualpirate]

sanders sides superhero/villain au in which they wanted to send janus to infiltrate the light sides but remus started suffering from separation anxiety like a rescued stray dog and then janus decided to train virgil to lie and send him instead and then virgil fell in love and abandoned the dark sides

#and then remus started suffering from separation anxiety like a rescued stray dog #do you see my vision #the angst potential is here #mine #not to be taken seriously #dukeceit #sanders sides #ts #ts janus #janus sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #superhero au #supervillain au #deceit #intrusive thoughts #anxiety #thomas sanders #sanders sides au #ideas #prinxiety

[angelbitezzz]

Hey Sans and Angel, what are your hobbies?

#undertale #sans #ts underswap #ts underswap sans #sans undertale #ts underswap au #ts underswap self insert #self ship #Crossbones and Starstruck #ask game #undertale text box #text box #thanks for the question! #she hasn't had much time for hobbies thanks to the gigs shes got #being a spooky servant and a superhero take up time! #probably for the best #staying busy is a way of staving off the bad thoughts for some

[just-some-gt-trash]

Blessed, cursed, or both?

AN: I am alive, shoutout to that one anon who worried about me.

This is my gift for @glacierruler for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange

I am so sorry for the delay, my school's stupid platform registered a bunch of mine and other classmates grades incorrectly and we spent the holidays making sure it was fixed, but here it is! Hope you like it c:

Summary: After his first day in a new school sucked as much as expected, Virgil is sure his day can't get any worse, until it does. At least there were two very weird but familiar individuals to keep him from dying, even if it meant they dragged him to a confusing investigation afterwards.

CW: explosions, near death experiences, swearing.

WC: 2866

————————————————————————————————————————————

The walk home was longer than Virgil imagined. Yet again, any walk would seem to last an eternity to anyone on a new town.

Virgil's old school was perfect, as perfect as a high school could be, but at least it was perfect for him. A robotics and chemistry lab left practically all for himself was clearly the biggest appeal, but his classmates and teachers were nice too. The cafeteria food was the only thing Virgil could actually complain about.

Here, at one of the biggest cities in his country, one would believe the public schools would be quite well funded and have a lot of resources. It sounded like such a stupid mindset now that Virgil went to his earlier thoughts again.

His new school was a nightmare, almost an abandoned building. The chemistry lab, which also worked as a computer lab, was occupied by boxes full with old participation trophies and books that probably still had slurs written on their pages.

And if that wasn't ad enough already, his classmates were all dicks. No one cared enough about anyone but themselves to mind if they bumped with someone in the hallway or made them drop their books on the way to their locker.

"They're just surviving, you'll learn to do it too... eventually"

Those words kept repeating on Virgil's head, he didn't even know the name of the person decent enough to help him. Surviving... that shouldn't be an excuse for being an asshole.

Lost in his thoughts, Virgil almost didn't hear the giggles and laughs coming from the other side of the street.

Virgil looked back, spotting what appeared to be a fucking mansion, no, it was more like one of those rich neighborhoods with the clean white houses. Only it wasn't that, it was a school.

Oh great, he had fallen into the falling to crumbs public school and Olympus worthy private school stereotype hadn't he?

Virgil could actually feel the sun shinning bright above the fancy campus, despite the rest of the city being covered by storm clouds.

Moving on, back to going home... wait.

Taking a couple of steps back, Virgil realized the clouds actually did seem to part above the school.

Virgil looked over at the buildings surrounding it, grey sky, then back at the school, blue sky.

Well that was definitely not norm-

BOOM

An explosion.

Sure, add an explosion almost fucking KILLING him to te worst day of his life, why not?

Almost killing him... why wasn't he dead?

As Virgil opened his eyes, he could once again see that blue sky that filled his head with so many questions, and then he looked down only to e greeted with a set of perfect white teeth.

"Do not worry innocent citizen, the great Starbolt has saved you from disaster!"

Virgil could barely see this man's, Starbolt he said? Face with the sun shining behind him and the breeze blown his hair to his eyes.

Breeze?

Looking down, way down, Virgil could barely see the floor.

"HOLLY SHIT!" Virgil could only scream. He was flying! Actually flying! Well, Starbolt was, while carrying him. This man was making Virgil fucking fly with him.

boom

Another explosion, further into the city.

"Well, have to take this one." Was the only warning Virgil got from Starbolt before being dropped who knew how many feet off the air.

This time he couldn't even scream. Virgil was really screwed up now, and the sun had once again disappeared so there weren't any shadows where he could-

And then the floor stopped getting closer, Virgil felt a new pair of arms holding him and sure enough, someone caught him.

Seriously could death stop taunting him for only five minutes?

"Hey, you're the emo kid."

Virgil looked up, at this man's face, meeting a pair of bright red eyes. He's seen those eyes before... this person was at school earlier today.

"Um... hi?"

A smile Virgil could only describe as unsettling replied to him. "Welcome to the city, you won't die if you're lucky enough to have me around, not so much if you bump into those assholes over there though." He pointed to the sky, not before slapping a fucking boulder away with his bare hand, making it break around them.

Virgil looked to where his classmate was pointing. Another person floated alongside Starbolt as they lifted people away from the explosions.

It was then when he really took a look at both of them. Starbolt wore a mainly white suit with red and golden accents. A golden "S" resembling a lightning decorated his chest, and a red cape blew with the wind as the superhero flew. The look was tied together with a red mask only covering his green eyes.

The other one, whose name Virgil didn't know, somehow matched with Starbolt while still standing out as his own person. He wore a baby blue suit with white swirls decorating it, a pink scarf acted as a mask that covered his face lower half while the ends blew behind him like Starbolt's cape, and a pair of pink ballet shoes. Taking a better look at him made Virgil realize he wasn't actually flying, but jumping higher up than humanly possible.

Virgil's thoughts were interrupted once again by his classmate's voice

"Aaand, up you go"

"Wait wha-" Virgil couldn't finish his sentence before his classmate tossed him back up in the air, only to be caught again by Starbolt.

Virgil held tightly onto the man's shoulders as they landed, a crowd formed around them as the people clapped and cheered.

"Thank you, thank you. No need to clap really." Starbolt landed and let Virgil down on the ground safely, "I can't take all the credit, right Blaze?"

Blaze landed right next to them, Virgil couldn't see his face but could still tell he was smiling. "We did a great job!" Blaze eagerly mentioned as he highfived Starbolt, "You don't need to be modest about it"

Virgil was left standing between the two heroes. There were a million questions in his head and he couldn't even get a word out. So many things happened all at once and his mind was still trying to process it.

A buzzing sound and... a voice? Came out from an earphone both heroes were wearing, but Virgil wasn't close enough to understand the words.

Without even looking at each other, as if they were connected telepatically or something, both heroes bowed to the crowd around them and took off. Virgil watched as they flew and jumped away respectively.

Great, now what?

"You survived, awesome"

"Ah!" Was the only noise Virgil could let out after his classmate surprised him once again. "Not thanks to you and your friends"

"Pff, those guys? Nah we're not together. I just make sure they don't kill half the city's population with their neglect. Starbolt thinks he was quick enough to drop you, go and save more emo teenagers and come back before you splatted on the concrete and became a puddle of blood and broken bones."

Virgil rolled his eyes, "Thanks for that image."

His classmate smiled, "Don't mention it."

"Shouldn't you be like, all dressed up and protecting your identity or whatever?" Virgil asked, as he made his way back to the sidewalk.

"It's not like anybody pays attention to us, we're invisible. The only reason you recognized me it's because we go to the same school, but you clearly don't even know my name"

Virgil stopped and turned around to look at his classmate eye to eye, deciding to ignore the fact that he had to look up to actually do that. "Can you blame me? I just moved in and your school is full of douchebags who don't care about anyone but themselves. Do you know my name?"

He shrugged, "maybe I know, maybe I don't. I'll find out, we have our ways."

"Who's we?" Asked Virgil, "you keep saying that"

His classmate grinned and pointed towards the top of a nearby building with his eyes.

Virgil followed the teen's gaze, spotting another masked figure, a much darker one. This... hero? Was wearing all black, had a bowler hat a cape that matched, only his green half phantom of the opera style mask stood out from the darkness surrounding him.

Virgil could swear they made eye contact before the figure disappeared between the clouds.

"Welp, gotta run Virge." The teen announced, causing Virgil to shift his attention back to him. "Nice keeping you from becoming a resident in hell!"

"Wait so you did..." Aaand he was gone, "...know"

Whatever, it's not like Virgil cared that much, he had other stuff to worry about.

Stuff that kept Virgil's superhero encounter in the back of his mind the rest of the day, the next morning, and even halfway through the school day. And it would have stayed that way if it wasn't for-

"Hey VV!"

That.

Virgil gripped the sides of his lunch tray as he turned around and sure enough, there he was, same guy from yesterday.

He tried to ignore him, but it was hard considering the school's cafeteria was hardly double the size of a regular classroom. Even being at opposite sides of the room, they were still close enough to clearly notice each other.

Virgil sighed, it couldn't be worse than eating by himself. He walked over the table where his classmate was sitting, squeezing through a crowd of teenagers trying not to ruin his food.

His classmate smiled, "glad to know you haven't died since we last saw each other."

"Could tell you the same thing." Virgil replied wit a sarcastic tone, "are you going to tell me your name now or am I going to be kept in the dark forever?"

"Mmm, I don't know. I like the mystery surrounding me"

"Please, there's nothing mysterious about you Remus"

Virgil turned around as another voice interrupted them.

"Whyyy do you haaave to ruin my fuuun?" Remus complained as the third person sat next to him.

"Telling the truth is not ruining your fun dear."

That voice... "It's you, the guy who helped me yesterday."

Virgil managed to catch his attention, "I am. No need to thank me or anything."

"And don't call them a guy," Remus chimed in, "they them pronouns for this handsome please."

"Or just Janus, some people are too stubborn to care about anyones identity."

"Right, sorry." Virgil apologized.

Remus wrapped his arms around Janus, kissing his cheek multiple times in an almost aggressive way. That's when Virgil caught on, they were dating. "I can... go and leave you two alone if you want."

"Please don't" Janus put their hand between their cheek and Remus' lips. "Maybe with you here this scumbag will have some shame and stop being so publicly affectionate."

Remus grinned, "not a chance."

Janus rolled their eyes, "I'll keep him in line. Take a seat Virgil."

Virgil did as instructed, "for people who just care about surviving, it seems like everyone around him knows my name."

"I said other people don't care," Janus corrected. "We're the exception that makes the rule."

"Right, and do you know your boyfriend is going around the city showing everyone his inhuman strength?"

Remus snickered, "boyfriend is a strong word. We're barely friends with benefits"

Virgil almost chocked on his food as he swallowed, "I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to assume I just-"

"He's joking." Janus interrupted, slapping Remus' hand as if they were reprimanding a little kid.

"You know you love me"

"And to answer your question," Janus looked back at Virgil, "I know. This idiot doesn't even try to cover his identity when cleaning those so called heroes' mess"

Remus groaned, "what's the point? It's not like they ever give credit or even say thank you."

"What is up with them anyway? Starbolt and Blaze?" Virgil's curiosity couldn't be ignored anymore, he had a million questions and couldn't figure out how to even begin asking them. "I didn't realized I was moving to Gotham."

That comment got a chuckle out of Janus. "At least Batman does his job right, those bastards are faker than-"

"My virginity!" Remus interrupted.

"Sure, that works." Janus sighed and took a bite out of an apple they had grabbed earlier. "We're pretty sure it's all staged, doesn't mean they're not putting innocent people's lives at risk."

"I think the clouds hide their wires" Remus said before slurping the last of his carton juice.

Virgil couldn't help but shake his head, "that would be true if they didn't open up around them."

Janus raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Remus. "What are you talking about?"

Virgil looked up rom his food, "haven't you noticed? They attract the sun beams or something."

"Maybe because yesterday was sunny?" Remus asked, his tone made Virgil think they thought he was joking.

"No... the only moment I've seen the sun since I got him was when I was in Starbolt's arms."

The couple looked at each other, confused.

Janus stood up and walked around the table, grabbing Virgil's hand without warning and pulling him up.

"W-wait wha-"

"Shh, just come with me."

Virgil pulled his hand out of Janus' grip, "I'm not going to be dragged away by someone I barely know without an explanation."

"Fine, you don't want to be dragged." Remus spoke from behind him.

Virgil turned around in time for Remus to grab him and carry him over his shoulder.

"P-Put me down!" Virgil struggled in Remus' grip to no avail. This guy really had superhuman strength.

Virgil's demands were ignored as Remus carried him around school. He gave up by the time they arrived to the main entrance.

Janus opened one of the schools front doors, "how's the climate today?"

"I would gladly tell you if Remus would let me down so I could look outside."

"No need!" Remus turned around so Virgil could answer without having to put him down.

Virgil sighed, he might as well answer and get this over with.

He looked up, a bunch of dark storm clouds made it impossible to actually look at the sky. Thunder and lightning accompanied the heavy rain, how come they coulnd't hear all this nose from inside?

"There's a storm" Virgil answered, plain and simple. "Will you let me down now?"

Janus looked up at the sky, "you're seriously not messing with me?"

Virgil groaned, "why would I be messing with you? It's right there."

Janus looked back at Virgil, then at their partner, making a sign to step out of the school.

Remus did as Janus signed, taking Virgil out in the storm with him.

"W-w-wait no! You don't know how bad my hair gets with humidity! The last thing I need is people making fun of..."

Virgil looked over at Remus, who remained completely dry under the rain. Virgil on the other hand, was already soaking wet after just a few seconds of being carried under the rain, "what?"

"Huh" Janus' face couldn't hide their surprise. They pulled Remus and Virgil back into the building.

Remus finally let Virgil down.

"What was that about? He's not only super strong but also waterproof?" Virgil squeezed the water from his sleeves and tried to fix his hair as he complained.

"He's not. There wasn't any storm outside, I thought you were joking but looking at you now... something else is going on here."

"No shit Sherlock" Virgil rubbed his face, accidentally smearing his eyeshadow.

Remus sighed, "you treat this like joke, but it's something serious. If sunbeams were following those assholes around that means they have something to do with this!"

Virgil shrugged, "why does that concern me? You and your mr. Black cape friend are the ones cleaning their mess, not me."

The three teens were getting annoyed at this point.

"It concerns you because you're the only one who can see what's happening" Janus explained.

"And that is not my fault. Go and ask anybody else if they can see the fucking storm becase I'm not getting myself involved in this craziness!" The lights flickered as Virgil lost control. He took a deep breath, he needed to calm down and just let everything go before anything suspicious happened and he had to flee again.

Janus looked up at the lights, then back as Virgil. This guy was nervous about something. "Look, we're not going to deep dive into why you have this ability if you don't want us to but we need your help."

Virgil crossed his arms, looking at his classmates as he analyzed his situation.

"It's up to you, but remember I can keep carrying you anywhere we want" Remus shrugged.

Virgil sighed, "and then you'll leave me alone?"

Janus nodded, "we will."

"Fine then," Virgil caved in. "What do you want me to do?"

#open endings my beloved #does this mean I'm back #i sure hope so #sanders sides #my writing #non gt #superhero au #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #anxiety sanders #deceit sanders #dark creativity sanders #light sides mention #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts remus #sanderssidesgiftxchange

[loganslowdown4]

*Superhero AU*

Roman: Imagine my shock when I checked the news this morning, Virgil.

Virgil: Not sorry about it.

Roman: I would expect this behaviour from Janus maybe, not from you.

Virgil: Still not sorry!

Virgil: With The Trash Man™️ put in a coma by Captain Storm (me) it’ll be better for everyone.

Roman: The Trash Man in a what?

Roman: I was talking about the new tights?? Did you even think about calling me to consult on wardrobe before getting those made?? I’m hurt, Virgil. *pouts*

#sanders sides superhero au #superhero au #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sander sides #roman sanders #ts roman #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #ts janus #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts creativity #sanders sides incorrect quotes #ts remus #incorrect sanders sides #the trash man #captain storm #platonic prinxiety #prinxiety #ts prinxiety

[delimeful]

tear it down (around my head) (7)

warnings: body horror mention, scars, past injury & surgery mention, torture mention, remus dialogue, PTSD

-

By the time the three of them had calmed down, Virgil's cheeks ached and his stomach hurt. He hadn’t laughed like that in a while.

He could hardly believe that Lightshow, out of anyone in the world, had been a part of the reason why. Life as a superhero was already so goddamn strange, but this was a new level of uncanny.

Of course, Lightshow also now knew that Umbra, infamous hero of the shadows, couldn’t laugh too hard without getting the hiccups. A villain knowing that little tidbit was probably going to come back to bite him in some mortifying way later, but he couldn’t exactly threaten the guy after they’d all just had a middle-of-the-night fit of hysterical laughter together. It would ruin the mood.

Instead, he waited until Remus had settled back against the couch and used his superior position perched on the backrest to nudge him with his ankle. “Still need the pressure?”

Remus leaned against his leg like the clingy bastard he was. “Nah. Everything’s sticking together again.”

Virgil was glad to hear it. He never minded playing weighted blanket or providing pressure therapy, but Remus’s ‘power malfunctions’ tended to leave him mentally drained if they went on for too long. He’d described it as suddenly feeling like he was made of badly-matched puzzle pieces, like each and every part of him was just barely connected and if he didn’t stay focused on keeping together, he’d fall apart.

Before Emile, he actually would, too. It was the downside to having an ability that was only limited by Remus’s own creativity: his power responded to compulsive thoughts nearly as well as his strategic ones.

The physical drawbacks of Remus’s power had mostly faded with time and experience, but coping with the mental drawbacks was still a work in progress. They’d found that pressure helped, and that someone else being with him, reassuring him that he was still a whole person who existed, helped as well.

Remus rolled his shoulders testingly, as though double checking, and then grimaced. “Might need the scar cream though. If His Highness can bear to be pried from his elevated throne.”

“Oh, shut it,” Virgil grumbled, shaking his leg loose from his grip and ignoring Lightshow’s gaze as he tilted back into the patch of shadow behind the couch and popped up in front of the cabinet next to the kitchen sink.

The small white container was next to the first aid kit as expected– Janus had made a habit of stashing them all over their living spaces– and he grabbed it and returned to the couch via shadow with only slightly less grace than he’d departed with.

Remus laughed at him as he scrambled to grab the back of the couch and haul himself back up, because he was an ungrateful bastard.

In retribution, Virgil toppled into his lap shoulder-first, but Remus dodged the mild castration attempt with ease. “Shirt off,” he grunted irritably.

There was a nearby squeak, and Virgil turned to see Lightshow was sitting there, looking a little flushed in the face. He squinted at him. “You good?”

“Should– Should I leave?” he asked, totally nonsensically. Virgil squinted at him harder, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

“No, don’t leave!” Remus whined, still wrangling his shirt over his head. “What’s the point in medical treatment if I don’t get to show off my scars to hot men in the process?”

“The point is not being in pain,” Virgil deadpanned, unscrewing the lid of the antioxidant cream.

“Medical treatment?” Lightshow echoed, still sounding a little faint. Maybe the guy needed to go back to bed.

“For my kickass scars,” Remus explained, flexing in a way that showed off the oddly-spaced rings of scar tissue along his arms. “Took me a while to understand how my powers worked.”

Virgil snorted. “That’s Remus-talk for ‘I didn’t realize that I could imagine myself not being horrifically injured with each use of my ability for months of crime fighting,’” he translated, pulling one of Remus’s arms in front of him so he could start massaging the cream in. Remus flipped him the bird.

Lightshow was staring at the scars with a worried little furrow in his brow. His gaze flickered down to the hand Virgil was holding, probably searching for a scar from the little display Remus had just put on. “Your power… hurts you?”

“It’s more like I was using it wrong,” Remus corrected. “Like if you were trying to perform a brain surgery with a butcher knife: messy! Duckie and Umbra helped me experiment with it, and now it doesn't even leave a mark.” He wiggled his scar-free thumb at him to prove it. Some parts of his hands were scarred, but most of those had been from minor fights and so healed a little better.

Virgil moved on to the next arm, watching as Remus reassured their former nemesis that he was just fine. For someone who loved to showboat, he was being remarkably restrained about actually using his power. He was like this in front of the more skittish kids, too, because despite his menacing aesthetic, he didn't actually want to give any grade schoolers nightmares.

“In fact, I don’t scar at all now unless I’m totally out of power,” Remus complained, and Virgil tightened his grip slightly in warning. That was too close to a weakness for him to be comfortable with Lightshow hearing it. “I mean, my collection is pretty impressive already, but there’s always room for improvement, you know?”

“If they still hurt, I think these ones are more than enough,” Lightshow replied, reaching forward and skimming his fingers gently over one of the rings. “They do look very, um, kickass, though.”

Remus’s grin stretched from cheek to cheek, genuinely ecstatic about the compliment, Patton swearing, or some combination of the two. “Fuck yeah they do! I’ve got the sickest scars in the whole city.”

Virgil stopped dead mid-wrist massage. “The hell you say.”

Remus’s smile turned maniacal. “You heard me.”

Virgil wiped his hands off on Remus’s discarded pajama shirt before unzipping his hoodie and pulling off his own shirt.

Lightshow made a noise oddly reminiscent of someone strangling a chicken, but Virgil didn’t have time to worry about supervillains. He had something to prove.

“Read ‘em and weep,” he intoned with perhaps a smidge more drama than necessary.

Whereas most of Remus’s scars were of a similar kind, lines of thick rigid tissue that wrapped around limbs like a tiger’s stripes, Virgil had a whole scattered assortment of marks.

They were spread across his entire frame, from the twisted burn scar that curled around one arm from a guy who could turn into a dragon, to the two bracket scars under his pecs from surgery, to the grid-like scarring along one hip from that one time with the razor netting trap.

“What was that about sick scars, huh?” He mockingly cupped a hand around his ear, adding the dual meaning of gesturing to the nick in it from a zweihander’s near-miss. “That mine are the coolest forever and you know it?”

“Maybe I just wanted to depose Duckie from his role in our household as sayer of untruths,” Remus replied, grinning enthusiastically the way he always did when he managed to goad Virgil into doing something stupid.

… Like undressing in front of a supervillain.

Virgil froze. He could feel his face heating up, and it was 2 AM so he didn’t even have any concealer on to hide it. Remus’s grin widened in an extremely bastardly manner.

Lightshow was quiet, but when Virgil worked up the courage to turn and glance at him, he didn’t see calculation, awkwardness, or even amusement at his expense.

Instead, Patton’s face had tangibly drained of color, and his gaze was locked on– shit.

On the perfect circle of red scar tissue that sat just above his waistband on the right side of his torso, the little white lichtenburg scars that radiated out from the edges of it like tiny lightning bolts.

There had been plenty of times where Lightshow’s powers, in such sharp contrast with his, had caused close calls or near-misses. This was from one of the few times he’d been hit dead-on. He still remembered being knocked out of the fight immediately by the blistering pain of it, only regaining consciousness for brief periods as he was rushed to the hospital and the resulting surgery.

It was one hell of a way to lose an appendix.

“What’s… What’s that one from?” Lightshow asked, and the two vigilante crime fighters in the room exchanged a loaded glance.

Virgil didn’t understand the reaction. He wanted to be suspicious, accuse the guy of knowing more than he let on. And yet, if Lightshow remembered inflicting the injury, he wouldn’t look so horror-struck by it.

He opened his mouth, intending to say something along the lines of, ‘A supervillain nearly murdered me. Sound familiar?’

Upon meeting Lightshow’s gaze, however, the words shifted somewhere between his brain and his mouth, and came out as, “It looks cool, but it’s kind of a boring one,” instead.

Remus tilted his head so Lightshow couldn’t read his expression, and raised an eyebrow at Virgil in silent question.

“Yeah, I actually just… mishandled a… gizmo. A, um, gadget or whatever. One of those doomsday devices villains are always toting around. Dropped it. And it exploded, just… very precisely. That happens all the time with doomsday devices,” he finished lamely.

That settled it. He was going to dig a very deep hole and stay there forever.

“Well, someone certainly isn’t stealing Dee’s title as lord of the lies anytime soon,” Remus muttered under his breath, and Virgil flipped him off behind his back.

Despite his floundering, Lightshow didn’t show a hint of doubt. Instead, a wave of relief seemed to sweep over his expression, too intense and invested in the answer for Virgil’s liking.

Before he could slip in any mildly interrogative questions, however, his gaze caught on something.

Lightshow had lifted his hands up to press against his face, seemingly overcome by emotion, and one of his pajama sleeves had slid down just enough to reveal the edges of a spot of mottled purple-green.

“Hey, what’s that on your arm?” he asked, despite knowing exactly what it was. He was a vigilante, he was more than familiar with bruises in all their shapes and forms.

From what he could see, this one looked bad.

Lightshow had tensed up, quickly tugging at his sleeve. Despite this recalcitrance, his answer was honest. “Just some bruising. I don’t really remember where from…,” he trailed off as Virgil extended a hand in a silent demand.

His wrist was reluctantly extended, and Virgil pushed the sleeve up to reveal an array of deep-set bruises, clearly beginning to heal but just as clearly completely untreated.

“Glowbug, have you had these the whole time?” Remus asked, his gaze locked onto the injuries.

Virgil wondered if his teammate was remembering all the random household tasks that Lightshow had been taking upon himself while they’d been out. Calculating how bad the bruises must have been at the start, to still be this present now.

“I think they’re probably not as bad as they look,” Patton tried, shrugging a shoulder uncomfortably. “They’ll heal up in no time, and they won't keep me from anything, don’t you worry.”

“Patton,” Remus said, all levity gone from his expression. “Are there more?”

The resulting moment of clear hesitation said enough. Virgil immediately headed for the first aid kit, foregoing his shadows to walk over to the kitchen manually as Remus coaxed Patton into removing his shirt and letting him look at the injuries he’d apparently had all along, on top of what they’d treated that first day.

It felt as though his thoughts were racing a mile a minute as he grabbed the entire kit from under the sink, thinking about blood clotting disorders and the possibility that a hematoma had formed, but the moment he turned back into the living room, he stopped dead.

Patton was facing Remus, shirt off to reveal skin covered in both freckles and more of those bruises, even scabbed over scrapes. Those weren’t what had frozen him in place, though.

What Remus couldn’t see from his angle was the clear, distinct handprint that was set over Patton’s spine, an almost cartoonishly clear-cut burn scar that was layered at the edges, as though the injury had been repeated, searing barely healed flesh over and over again until it warped and deadened the skin so severely that there was no chance of recovery.

It was the sort of scar that could only have been developed from long-term torture.

Whatever expression he was making seemed to alarm Remus, which sent Patton turning around to face him.

“Umbra?” he asked, confused and nervous, but not moving in a way that suggested he was trying to hide the scar. He honestly didn’t even seem aware of the scar, though from the way Remus’s eyes had gone wide and then dark with anger behind him, he was now the only one to not know.

Lightshow had seemed sick and faint at the sight of Virgil’s burn scar, for reasons that were now very clear in hindsight. Virgil couldn’t imagine what memories they might dredge up by telling him about the one settled on his own back.

“Just surprised,” he managed, only sounding a little like he was choking on the words. “You were pretty banged up by the time we caught up with you, huh?”

He set the kit on the table, made meaningful eye contact with Remus (not now, not yet), and started rifling through it. “Sit down, dude. It’s gonna take a bit to get all these treated.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to go to the trouble–,” Patton started, and then cut himself off for a moment before trying again. “They’re already almost gone, it’s not worth the resources–”

“Treating injuries isn’t about worth,” Virgil told him. “We try to avoid unnecessary pain around here, including pain from ‘small stuff’ like bruises.”

He shot Remus a warning glance, half-expecting him to interject with some saucy, ill-timed comment about BDSM or whatever, but none came. All his teammate did was scoot over to one side and pat the cushion between them invitingly.

It did the trick; Patton hadn’t yet passed up on an opportunity to cuddle, and he didn’t seem to be starting now.

The physical torture the supervillain had been through certainly put the behavior in a new light, a surprising desire for contact where Virgil would have expected touch aversion, but he didn’t let himself linger on the thought as he carefully dabbed bruise cream along Patton’s side.

His mental image of Lightshow didn’t line up with the reality of Patton, and it was keeping him from noticing things. Big things, like the scar. That couldn’t fly anymore. It was about time he started rolling with the metaphorical punches, rather than bracing so hard for the literal ones.

By the time they finished doing everything they could and checking for signs of any complications, Patton had lost every bit of tenseness, somehow trusting them to ghost fingers over painful spots without ever digging in. Remus volunteered to carry him to bed, sweeping him up in a princess carry with ease, and Virgil followed them down the hall.

Patton had thanked them and said goodnight, visibly confused but also radiating a shy sort of happiness, and after his door had closed, the two of them had stood there in silence for a moment.

“Janus needs to move finding Glowbug’s former boss up on his list of priorities,” Remus finally said. “I think that anyone who’s that fond of burns really deserves to get acquainted with me and a flamethrower.”

Despite everything, Virgil couldn’t help but agree.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #superhero au #ts virgil #ts patton #ts remus #my writing #writing #tear it down around my head #tidamh #:)

[hyperfixated-homo]

sanders sides superhero au.

and supervillain au.

and vigilante au

...and evil henchman au...

virgil's got a couple too many secret identities

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts sanders sides #ts virgil #superhero au #supervillain au #vigilante au #so basically #he works with patton as a superhero #he fights against remus as a vigilante #but he also fight against roman as a supervillain #and he works for janus for some spare cash #oh also to make this more fun #he does it because he's a college student who needs to pay his fucking bills and used his powers to help all of them by complete accident #his ability is probably like some sort of mind control #and he uses it in different ways so people think that he's different people #oh and he dyes his hair and it just #works #maybe he helps logan hack the government in his free time idk

[meowthefluffy]

Hello all! I wanted to quickly post a little explanation explaining that I am fine and not like sick or anything! I haven’t posted in over two months and I just wanted to let you all know I’m okay.

Over last few months I’ve lost a lot of love and good will I feel about the sanders Sides series, and just hold no passion for it anymore- I don’t feel anything about these characters or story because the long break has at this point broken my sense of disbelief and I can’t really engage with the story on its level. I don’t think whatever this finale is will be worth almost 3 years of no content (the amount of time I’ve spent in the fandom with content coming out is under half of my overall time here)

This means I just feel no passion for making new content, while I used to be able to pull through by making Prinxiety content I’ve kinda stopped seeing them as characters in their own right - which makes it hard for me to keep making art of them. I’ve been on the cusp of the fandom for years at this point but I was able to push through via my hyper specific au’s and pretty much sole focus on Roman- but it’s just not enough to sustain mg attention when I could do other things.

I’ve been playing dnd, and making art about my ocs and writing and doing crafts and reading and I just have found that compared to my other interests sanders Sides just isn’t my passion anymore. I don’t even think I like it at all at this point.

I am still going to complete my comics and au’s that are currently ongoing- you can still request art for older comics and I will happily make posts about them (I’m trying to flesh out a way to make the superhero au an oc project so I can make it a real comic) but I don’t think I’ll be posting much ts stuff once I finish it all off

but that leaves me off with a lot of uncertainty to what I’ll actually be doing with this blog? You all come here for ts stuff but I don’t know what you all would be willing to see? Concept work for my oc comic projects? My digital art practice? Something else? I just don’t know what to do here and that uncertainty is kinda scary. I won’t be deleting my blog or anything- this blog has helped me build so many amazing connections it’s basically become a part of me- I just don’t know what to post once I fish all the art I have ongoing (pretty much just the cupid au and the lust au are all the ones I have left)

Any ideas?

#long post #just wanted to explain a bit #me

[blackoutbugza]

after school i wanted to draw the superhero au

here’s some “just patton” cuz he’s precious and i love him

this au is not mine, its owned by @nesushii

(sorry if some things are wrong, i don’t usually draw any ts sides au’s besides my own lol)

#sanders sides #fanart #ts sides #patton sanders

[edupunkn00b]

Progression, Chapter 8: You've Created a Monster

Photo by edupunkn00b

Prev - You've Created a Monster - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Last night's incident at the bar had consequences that no-one could escape. Written for @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper's @dukeceit-week-2024, final day: Free Day. "Free" day. WC: 1190

Wet and heavy, the air outside the bar stank of rotting vegetables and piss, old paint and sweat. Fear. He shivered, sweat cooling his skin too, too quickly, even in the stuffy, muggy night. 

He almost asked to go back inside, to return to the soft lights and the loud music. To return to Jannie and Lucas’ watchful gazes. Did they see him leave? Would they be worried? 

He almost asked to go back inside, but before he could even surface the thought, Bryan urged him around the corner and into the alley, voice sweet and brushed with just a hint of heat. His lips were soft and the hand on the small of his back was warm and gentle.

Until it wasn’t.

The Muse cracked open his eyes, squinting against the cold glare of his buzzy overhead light. It hummed and crackled, some ancient thing that didn’t fritz right out under the strangling weight of his room's new shield.

Sighing, he rubbed his cheek against the carpet. It was now stiff, without the same drag and bounce it had had before Papa Bear and Virge renovated. The fresh glue stank, burning his nose and his throat.

Maybe that’s what he’d smelled. Not last night’s bar. Not last night’s—

The floor jolted beneath him, the little thud that meant the elevator had stopped on his floor. The Muse grinned. Someone was coming!

“Jannie!” The Muse cheered, racing to the door as it began to open. “Jannie, Jannie, Jannie, Jannie, Jannie, Jan—”

Papa Bear’s head stuck through and he frowned. “Sorry, Kiddo.” The cheer in his voice was thin and brittle, too high and too chilly to be real. If The Muse pushed at it, it would shatter under his hands like the old plastic cabinets had. Papa Bear raised the tray he carried and curled up his lips into something like a smile. “Just me and some dinner for you while Virge converts your stove to work in the EMF.”

His voice was rough, like he’d been shouting. Or crying. The Muse flipped backwards on a nearby chair and hung his head over the seat, watching him as he walked on the ceiling. He’d never been able to easily read Papa Bear. Not without touching him, at least, and today—tonight?—Papa Bear wore a long-sleeved hoodie, all drawn up and covered like he was cold.

A bead of sweat trailed down his temple.

He couldn’t easily read him—not without pushing, not without being noticed, and he was trying so hard to never do that, no matter how much he needed it sometimes. But he could usually make Papa Bear laugh. When he wasn’t scaring him or grossing him out, anyway. 

“Guess Jannie’s too busy bom-chicka-waow-waow , with the hubby, huh?” He grinned, waiting for a laugh or a grimace. Usually his innuendos about Papa Bear’s little brother got a bit of both.

Not today, though. “Something like that.” Papa Bear’s mouth trembled and he turned to set down the tray, a wave of grief and loss knocking Remus to the floor.

“Oh, fuck, Papa Bear…” He scrambled to his feet and moved close. “Lucas isn’t… hurt, is he?”

“No, um… Lucas is fine, Kiddo. Everything’s okay.” Papa Bear smiled through his lie. “I… I should go… I left Virge without another set of hands in the lab, um… Eat up, Re. You’re getting too skinny.” He smiled again, lips curled up softly, but cheeks pale and eyes red-rimmed. “I’ll make you anything you want, I promise.”

He squeezed his shoulder, grip firm but not very steady. It was only then that The Muse noticed his gloves. “Yeah—yeah, Papa Bear. I’ll eat this time. I…” Another wave of sadness oozed off of him, cold and sticky. Syrup left to dry or those cold compresses he’d stick on his bruises when the ice burned.

The Muse poked at the edges of Papa Bear’s hurt, feeling for the source of the thudding, throbbing ache around them. Papa Bear shrank back and shook his head, wincing, so he stopped. Tried to, at least.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay, Re,” he murmured, but didn’t move closer. “I know it’s not your fault.” His arms twitched, almost like wanted to hug him. The Muse stepped closer, unable to hold back the itchy little whine at the back of his throat. A big Papa Bear hug would feel so fucking good right now. 

But instead of moving toward him, arms open, Papa Bear shuffled backwards and palmed open the door with the new controls. “I—I—I gotta go, Kiddo,” he said, not meeting his eyes. He slipped through the door, pulling it closed behind him. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed from the other side of the door. 

“Papa Bear, wait, what hap—” The Muse rushed to the door and slammed his hand on the controls. It wouldn’t respond. He tried again, slower this time, fingers carefully spread over the surface. Nothing. 

“I’m sorry, Kiddo.” Papa Bear’s voice spilled from a little vent next to the door. “That won’t work anymore. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He pressed to the window. “Papa Bear? I—I’m sorry! Please come back! Papa Bear?”

Papa Bear’s shoulders shook as he rushed toward the elevator and disappeared. “Papa Bear?” he cried one more time, banging on the door. The elevator doors swished shut and the hallway was again bathed in darkness.

Braced against the door, one hand stretched and hopelessly tapping the door controls, he watched the hallway shadows a long, long time. The lights above the elevator dimmed and brightened almost imperceptibly, silently and dutifully marking each floor change as the elevator moved in its shaft. The lights never heralded Papa Bear’s return.

Or anyone's.

By now they would’ve told Ro what happened at the bar. But maybe… maybe Ro would still visit? Not come inside, that was too, well, it wasn’t safe not alone. they both knew that. But Ro still might come and sit outside the door like he used to, close enough to see him through the window. Close enough to imagine they still breathed the same air. Close enough for Ro to show off a new flower or dazzling lights.

He’d bragged he could make fireworks the last time they’d talked. The Muse laughed. Maybe he could show off what he could do, too.

The Muse closed his eyes and straightened, hands outstretched in front of him.

Scarred and shaking, he saw nothing but empty hands and his empty room.

He tried again, picturing the sparks of heat and light, the singe as the fireworks spread and scattered over his hands. But no matter how clear the picture was in his mind, the static pushed back against it, forcing it all back into his head. He tried again. And again. Fireworks, flowers, a fucking rock.  

Nothing worked.

He shook his head, pounding behind his eyes as his Illusions stuttered against his skull, echoing back to him instead of pouring out into the world, into his palms, alive and real. His room wasn’t supposed to do that. He had to tell Jannie.

The Muse pushed at the static surrounding his room, the new, ever-present buzz of the shield pressing against him like a soap bubble. Was it louder now? He slammed his fists against it, scratching, clawing, poking against the deafening darkness. -”Jannie?-“ he screamed against the bubble. -“Jannie, can you hear me? Jannie? Jannie?! JANNIE!!”-

#Progression #ts remus #ts janus #dukeceit #platonic dukeceit #demus #ts patton #The Muse #Papa Bear #ts lucas #Lucas and Janus don't have their nicknames yet #well‚ Lucas might have just picked his #but that happens off screen #superhero #superpowers au #the story continues in Meus ex Machina

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

On Death's Doorstep (pt 40/53?)

[<<First],,,,[<Prev],[Next>] [ODD Masterlist]

Word count: 1547

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Creativitwins

Warnings: suggestive clothing, alcohol, shenanigans, crimes

~~~START~~~

“ROMAN!” 

Roman jolted awake as their sibling threw themself onto his bed, causing him to bounce slightly. Remus didn’t seem to care that he’d been sleeping as she wiggled her way up until their head was on the pillow next to his.  

“What?” Roman groaned, their attempts to pull the duvet over his head hampered by Remus weighing the covers down.  

He used to have his own floor, so it was at least a little harder for Remus to bother them during their beauty sleep, but now he was staying in her guest room, and they could barge in whenever she wanted. Like when he was trying to sleep, for instance.  

“It’s midnight,” Remus explained, as though that meant anything.  

“So?” If Roman ducked a little, he could hide their face under the corner of the duvet.  

“It’s our birthday.” 

Oh.  

Their birthday.  

They’d forgotten about their birthday, what with everything else going on and all.  

Roman shimmied his hand out from under the comforter and held his pinky out to their sister.  

“Make a wish,” they said. She twined her own pinky with his and they both closed their eyes.  

This was their tradition, to make a wish on their birthday. They didn’t know when they’d been born, so they just did it at midnight.  

There were rules to the wish:  

It had to be lofty — too lofty to actually achieve, at least before their next birthday, anyway.  

It had to be selfish — no wasting it on anyone else.  

It had to be different — no wishing for the same thing every year.  

With those rules in mind, Roman closed their eyes and wished to be cast as the first gay Disney prince — his wishes were usually pretty similar every year, but he made sure they varied enough to follow the rules.  

“Roman?” Remus whispered after they had spent a few minutes in silence, eyes still closed.  

“Yeah?” He had almost drifted off again, but they fought to keep awake.  

“Can I sleep here tonight?” 

“Yeah.” They gave up on staying awake, but they thought he heard Remus whisper a thanks before they were out.  

The next morning, by unspoken mutual agreement, the two got dressed in their most flamboyant clothes and took full advantage of being two of the three people who could safely leave the building by hitting the town. They always preferred to be just the two of them on their birthday, which really worked out this year as Roman highly doubted either of their friends remembered — heck, Roman had almost forgotten, he could hardly blame Janus or Logan if they had forgotten too.  

The first stop on the birthday docket was their favorite cafe where their favorite baristas, a blue and pink haired woman named Jinx, was ready with their usual, plus two birthday cake pops.  

“Birthday pops for the birthday twins,” Jinx laughed as Remus snatched up her order hungrily.  

“Jinx, my love, I don’t know what we would do without you!” Roman pretended to swoon.  

“Die miserable, I’m afraid,” Jinx shook her head in mock sadness.  

“All too true!” Roman agreed. “Alas, if only I were in to women, and you attracted to men, we would be unstoppable!” 

“The gods are conspiring to keep up apart!” Jinx pretended to swoon as well.  

“Well if you ever get tired of flirting with Roman,” Remus rolled their eyes, having devoured their entire breakfast sandwich already. “I’m always available to be the other woman.” 

“Betrayed!” Roman cried dramatically. “And by my own flesh and blood no less!” 

Jinx laughed again, but valiantly attempted to sober up as another customer came through the door. “I still have to work, but you two paint the town red for me — or green, as the case may be — alright? Happy birthday.” 

“Goodbye, my beloved!” 

“Bye Jinx!” 

The two left the cafe, and once back out in the sunlight, Roman couldn’t resist twirling and allowing their scarlet skirt to flare around them. For just a moment, their spirits soared, then reality came crashing back on him.  

“We’re bad friends,” they observed glumly, the sunny weather no longer reflecting his mood.  

“Nah,” Remus waved his concern off. “We can’t exactly help anyone at this stage, and lying around feeling like shit isn’t gonna help anyone at any stage.” 

“You don’t feel bad that we’re treating ourselves?” 

“Nope! As Janus likes to say: self-care, bitch! They’d want us to be selfish today, as long as we aren’t getting in their way — which we’re not.” 

“A lot’s changed in a year.” Roman observed.  

“Hmm,” Remus agreed halfheartedly. “Maybe by next year we can overthrow the government!” 

“Please tell me that’s not what you wished for,” Roman begged — that sounded like a lot of work.  

“Nah, it’s what I wished for last year.” 

Roman stopped in his tracks to groan, but Remus kept walking, forcing Roman to rush to catch up.  

The second stop in their birthday outing was an occult shoppe in the mall that sold candles that Roman liked and oddities that Remus liked. Before and after the shoppe, they did some window shopping — also known as casing the joint, a birthday wasn’t a birthday if they didn’t commit some crimes — at the surrounding stores.  

In the center of the mall was a large, multileveled fountain. Roman and Remus spent over an hour and twenty-three dollars in dimes trying to outdo each other in terms of tossing coins into the fountain. Tosses were judged both on style and on distance from the fountain when the coin was tossed, bonus points were awarded depending on which level of the fountain the coin landed in. People sent them strange looks as they did this — while dressed in a flamboyant acid green bedazzled suit and a scarlet ball gown — but the twins hardly cared.  

They had lunch in the mall food court before heading back to their lair in order to suit up and rob the stores they had scouted earlier in the day. Coincidentally, the mall was the same one Thomas and Nico had been abducted from; the damage had been repaired, but Roman got some satisfaction in undoing those repairs.  

It was just a simple smash n’ grab, and with no heroes in the city, there wasn’t much resistance. With Dr. Frankenstein and Serpentine busy trying to infiltrate the government, the task of causing chaos throughout the city fell mostly on Gemini’s shoulders (there were other villains too, but Roman found most of them to be pompous jackasses not worth collaborating with), and petty crimes like robbing stores in the mall were encouraged. Roman ended up taking home a gorgeous ruby necklace that he would, unfortunately, have to be an idiot to wear in public any time soon; Remus got a large, glittering skull ring that she insisted on naming Yorick.  

They returned to their lair to stash their ill-gotten gains before returning to Remus’s their shared floor to pull off their third wardrobe change of the day. After grabbing a quick dinner at one of the food trucks that hung around the park, their final destination of day would be The Wrecking Ball, so Roman put on a pair of red booty shorts, a white mesh cut out top, leather harness, and a pair of white leather Prada boots he’d recently lifted.  

They met Remus, now wearing a pair of baggy black cargo pants, adorned with dozens of chains and spikes, six inch platforms, a thick leather collar, and a green crop-top that said in glittering letters WHORE,  back in the living room, and the two set out.  

The bar was packed by the time they arrived, the music blaring so loud that they could hardly think, their ears throbbing from the vibrations. The dance floor was packed, drinks sloshing wildly as bodies collided against each other to the beat — the DJ was keeping the energy pulsing, mixing Cher into Kylie Minogue into Britney and beyond. It didn’t take the twins long to find some marks to sucker into buying them drinks — a vodka cran for Roman, and a Dirty Shirley for Remus — before they abandoned their new suitors and hit the dance floor.  

They lost themselves in the beat, pickpocketing the occasional unsuspecting victim but predominantly just enjoying themselves, grinding against strangers and screaming the lyrics to Barbie Girl. Their drinks never ran empty — the club was packed and it was all too easy to bat their eyes and obtain another one. Roman felt like a prince when the DJ mixed Happy Birthday into the set-list for them, and he certainly auditioned plenty of handsome strangers for the role of prince charming.  

Roman wasn’t sure when it was that they managed to drag themselves back home, but even as exhausted as he was, they couldn’t help but notice a folded paper card lying on the kitchen island.  

Happy 23rd Birthday  -Janus 🐍 

Happy Birthday. There is a cake in your fridge, my apologies for not remembering sooner.   Regards, Logan 

Roman smiled and placed the card back on the counter. The cake could wait until tomorrow, when they could have their friends around them, and Patton, and Remy, Babs, Thomas, Nico. And maybe soon they could have another cake to share with Virgil… 

For now though, it was time for bed. 

~~~END~~~

Full disclosure, I did not write the clubbing scene because that is something I don’t know anything other than theory (I’m not a fan of loud, crowded places), my friend wrote that.

While I was waiting for my friend to read this chapter and fill in the club scene, I wrote the next chapter, so you’ll get that pretty soon :)

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14 @lunatatic

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #logan sanders #janus sanders #on death’s doorstep #superhero au #thursday writes #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

[darth-does-stuff]

Better Things Yet To Come

(but darling, misfortune always has to arrive first)

Four superheroes in the city of Cyrin, a gilded and fantastical city full of exalted and wondrous powers, according to any outsider you asked. To the locals, it’s a city with destruction around every corner, villains rearing their heads in an attempt at building a reputation, and fighting daily. And if you asked the heroes…they’d say that it’s a city that has been their home for years on end and, deep inside them, they feel a need to protect it. But if you were to take a closer look at them, you’d see the heavy burden on their shoulders, for, ultimately, Cyrin is not a city without its prices.

[First] [Next] [AO3]

Chapter One: Inferno

blazing

⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼

Fire.

Flames licking up the sides of buildings, rubble coating the ground as if it were a comforting blanket and not a hydraulic press, crush, crush, crushing those trapped under it. Smoke coated the air, seeping into the cracks of walls and lungs, tainting and staining all that it touched. 

The remnants of an explosion.

The crackling of fire was barely heard in the late morning air as screams and cries for help echoed throughout the city, sirens blaring noisily as vehicles raced to get to the disaster site. 

As if they hoped they still had time. 

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

To—

Water.

The sound of water flowing through the air before combatting the fire, and the resulting hissing of the flames as they protested, as if saying, no, we’re not done yet. 

The water replied, it does not matter, for I say you are. 

Feet softly landed on the ground, a cobalt blue suit shining in the sunlight, for it was a beautiful day. Perfect blue skies with slight clouds drifting aimlessly, the sun warming one’s back, with the only hiccup being the shrill sounds of those in pain as they begged for help and the deathly silence of those who were rendered unable to. 

The figure in blue did not sprint to the people in need. To sprint is to imply desperation, a need for speed that envelops one’s mind, rendering any other thought useless, depleting any grace.

No, to the people trapped and injured, it looked like the blue figure glided over to them, every action perfected and controlled, no fear or uncertainty present at all. Like a guardian with the sunlight framing him as he crouched down to help.

Water swirled in the air, collecting around his arms and solidifying into ice as he bodily shoved a chunk of rubble off of a group of people, holding it up so they could abscond. If there was a tremor in his arms as the people struggled to get away, he did not allow it to show.

Sirens got louder and louder as they finally arrived, always appearing as late in a city of quick heroes. 

Smoke still remained, causing coughs, wheezes, and gasps to pierce the air, but the water had put the fire out, and the only danger currently was the one the exalted was in the midst of dealing with. 

He had moved on from the first bit of rubble after anybody trapped under it had hobbled off, and was now making headway in giving the helpless aid in surviving. 

News helicopters circled the skies, as they are wont to do. Nothing attracts the eyes of the people so much as a disaster, for it is one of the few things that we can never tear our eyes away from. 

Finally, finally, there was stillness. Not a stillness in movement, no, for there was certainly an abundance of that in the form of people hurrying about, affixing oxygen masks to those who needed them, people rushed away in ambulances, and those sobbing into the arms of their loved ones at having almost faced the certainty of death far earlier than they were ready to.

Not a stillness in movement, but rather a stillness in danger. 

However, as we all know, stillness is always broken, it is not a state of perpetual being, but a momentary pause. And in a city like Cyrin, those pauses were brief indeed. 

For now, though, stillness. 

“Riptide!” a voice rang out, a news van and camera crew also having arrived and a person with a microphone running up to the guardian. “Riptide, sir, you’ve just done an incredible job in saving these citizens! Do you happen to know what caused this disaster?” 

A microphone was shoved into the face, or rather mask, of the exalted. Riptide. 

“I am, as of right now, uncertain as to the cause of this scene. I can only guess an explosion of some kind, though further investigation will be required for finding out who is responsible.”

Every word from him was both measured and steely, as if every word was calculated before it came out of his mouth. The voice modulator likely helped in that avenue. 

“I see, I see. Do you have any plans once you find out who is responsible?”

Lenses affixed on the news reporter’s eyes, giving them his full attention. “Once I discover the culprit, I will act accordingly as I have always done.”

The reporter smiled and nodded their head. “Once again, just thank you, sir, for helping this city. If you weren’t here to help, no doubt the list of casualties would be far greater than it is right now.” 

Riptide nodded, now gazing at the charred and destroyed building with lines of sadness almost present in his stance. “It is the least I could do with my abilities.” 

As the exalted walked away, to the untrained eye, he would look untouchable, ephemeral, and every bit of the reputation he had built over the years. Only those who knew him well, extremely well, would see the weight of the world on his back and the burdens set on his shoulders.

Of course, he had no need to worry about that, for it wasn’t like anybody had ever been close to him at all. 

For some odd reason, that only seemed to add a weight to Logan’s back instead of lifting it.

a/n: not all chapters are gonna be this prose-y and short but idk i was in a certain mood when writing this i guess lmao

taglist (ask to be added!): @star-crossed-shipper, @flowercrownsandtrauma, @lesbian-pattonsanders

#superhero au #ts #sanders sides #ts logan #logan sanders #lamp #romantic lamp #ts lamp #punches wall i have to specify SO MUCH #dukeceit #i have no self control <3

[rosesisupposes]

oh my god you're back! i got out of sanders sides oops but i also stopped doing superhero aus which is a sin i must alleviate (i will make them magical girls though) - C.C.

sometimes the hyperfixation finds you again and suddenly you're watching the entire TS playlist at 1 in the morning

(granted this was bad timing it was in the middle of bar prep but such is the brain)

it's so good to hear from you again <3

#my darling nibling #roses speaks

[angelbitezzz]

YOU’VE BEEN SO NICE WITH THE ASKS SO

💕💕⭐️⚫️👂

*claps hands together deviously* hooray!

First cute song: Hold on, I'm Coming, cuz it's very superhero and I think it works both ways for them. And it's funky. They both end up kind of becoming eachother's rocks.

Next cute song, Golden Hour by JVKE, because I'm predictable and two people falling in love simultaneously is a really cute thing to write okay

Augh, another favorite huh? This is gonna come out of nowhere: Someday, from the hit videogame series The World Ends with You (I'm putting the Neo version down because the lyrics are clearer, but definitely listen to the og! In fact, go play the game. is good.). The actual song itself is sung from the perspective of a girl who is maybe having some relationship issues? Or at least, the person she is spending time with is someone who doesn't understand how she could be so positive. And I know from an outside perspective this doesn't make a lot of sense from what we've seen of these two, but I'm still thinking of this version of Sans as someone who is pretty cynical? My friend put it best as he's "someone who hopes for the best and expects the worst", and admittedly Angel is in a similar boat. At least attitude wise, she tries to be optimistic even with her own inner conflict. So there's that goading "let's go!" I guess, lol

For our angst ⚫️ prompt, I really had to think cuz i dont actually listen to much uh...relevant music? But I think Little Lion Man works? Sans is defined by his lack of action in undertale, and granted he is taking an actual stand in ts underswap if you decide to go for a ruthless route, but he doesn't commit. He fucks off at the end of your battle if you're trying to kill him, leaving the underground to think that he's dead. ANYWAYS this is only a little relevant given that this au is not tied to a ruthless route. I think he's just. bad. at commitment. especially if he's is aware of the existence of the timelines. just saying.

And for the vibes 👂, we have Fall, by Chenader. I think it is also relevant lyrically but you can make your own decisions about that :)

PHEW okay another long one. uh. my bad. have some more art as an apology.

Stick a puerto rican in a hole in the groud, you're gonna be hard pressed to find proper enrichment, I think

#my art #digital art #doodle #undertale #sans undertale #sans #art #ts underswap #ts underswap sans #self ship #self insert #ts underswap self insert #ask game #Crossbones and Starstruck