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snowdice · 2 years

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Best Laid Plans (Part 8/8: Breaking News) [Sometimes Labels Shift Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Virgil & Roman, Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Virgil, Roman

Appear: Logan, Patton

Mentioned: Remy, Emile, Janus, Remus

Summary:

Virgil (now) Sanders was once a villain vigilante kid down on his luck. After being injured helping the superhero Bluebird, he ended up being adopted by him and his husband. Logan and Patton Sanders helped Virgil in ways he didn’t even know he needed. Since then, he’s put away his persona of Shadow Caster, the strange, hard to label, super who haunted the city for a few years. Instead he’s opted for being a normal teenager and university student.

But while Logan and Patton often forgot in the midst of ice cream and movie nights and arguments about silly little things who he had been, he never had. And when worst comes to worst, Virgil will be willing to reach for a mask once again despite his fathers’ wishes and expectations.

Sometimes even the best laid plans fail.

Thanks to @bilgisticallykosher, @kiapet2, and ASmallForest (on discord) for being betas!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Virgil had not expected Prince to pull off his mask and reveal the face of Roman Sylvia underneath. Honestly, could this night get any weirder?

“But you’re the son of the mayor,” he blurted, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, and?” Roman said. “Bluebird’s a math teacher of all things.”

“Yes, but, you’re the mayor’s kid. Why would you need to go out being a secret hero?”

“Well, why were you out being a secret vigilante at…” Roman paused to think for a few seconds. “Wait, we fought for the first time when you were 14?!” He looked horrified by this fact.

“Yeah…” Virgil said awkwardly.

“I beat up a baby?!”

Virgil scowled at him. “I was not a baby… you did not beat me up!”

“Did so!”

“Did not! I always got away, easy.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because I let you,” Roman sniffed. It was the same way he always said he let Virgil win games of Mario Kart.

“Bullshit!” Virgil returned, just like he always did in those moments too.

“I could have used my superstrength on you, but I didn’t want to hurt anyone, so I didn’t.”

“Yeah, so, that was you not being able to control your powers enough to catch me,” Virgil said, folding his arms, “not you purposefully letting me go!”

“Oh, whatever,” Roman replied flippantly. “Why were you even out and about fighting me? You couldn’t even drive. What were you doing robbing banks?”

“You think I don’t realize you were 17 when you started?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah,” Roman said, smugly. “Old enough to drive.”

“You’re the son of the mayor. I was poor. At least I had an excuse!” Virgil exclaimed.

“You’re burning the spam!” Roman exclaimed back.

“Fuck,” Virgil said, whipping back around to remove the frying pan from the stovetop. The slices looked a little crunchy, but that would be fine.

He’d also forgotten to start the water for the ramen, distracted by that whole conversation, so he grabbed a saucepan now and filled it up with enough water to make all of the Ramen at once. It was only after he’d finished with that that he turned back to Roman.

“So…” Virgil said.

“So.”

Virgil crossed his arms and leaned against the counter to study him. “I never pegged you for the superhero type.”

Roman frowned. “Is that an insult, or…?”

Virgil shrugged with a slight teasing smile on his face. “Take it however you want.”

Roman scowled, but then rolled his eyes. “So, what exactly happened then?” Roman asked. “Back then, I mean. How did you end up getting adopted by Bluebird?”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “When I got shot, Logan didn’t want to take me to a hospital since I’d just saved his life. He didn’t want to risk people unmasking me, so he took me home to Patton. Patton fixed me up and then pretty much emotionally adopted me as soon as I woke up because he’s, you know, Patton.”

Roman nodded in understanding.

“I let it slip that I was a foster kid and that my foster father wasn’t a particularly good one. From there they figured out my exact age and why I’d become a vigilante. They had Remy document injuries from my foster father and sent them to the police. Patton pulled some strings,” Virgil gestured towards Roman, since said strings had been his mother, “and the next thing I knew, I was living with them. The rest, you pretty much know. They were good to me; they adopted me, and here we are.”

“Huh,” Roman said.

Virgil turned off the heat once the noodles had finished cooking and started dishing them out into two bowls. He then topped them with the slightly-too-crunchy spam and slid one over to Roman.

“So,” Roman said as he pulled the bowl to himself. “You got to train with Bluebird.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Of course, that’s what you focus on.”

Roman’s nose scrunched up. “And Bluebird is… Mr. Dr. Sanders? That’s wild. I’d never expect it. No wonder no one’s ever figured out his secret identity…”

Roman trailed off, remembering the events of today. There was an awkward silence in which they were clearly both thinking the same thing. No one had ever figured out his secret identity until today. He hadn’t been wearing a mask when they’d found him.

Roman stared into his bowl of noodles. “You know,” he said after a few moments, “it… it actually does kind of fit in a weird way. Your dad being Bluebird.”

“How so?” Virgil asked curiously. Logan Sanders had always been Bluebird to Virgil. He’d never had to put the two identities together; they’d always just been the same person.

“Well, when I look at Bluebird, I don’t really think of Logan Sanders the math and physics nerd, but if I think about what Logan Sanders would be if he ended up a superhero… yeah, that tracks.”

Virgil snorted. “How does that even make any sense, Princey?”

“I don’t know,” said Roman. “Just… yeah, no, your dad would 1000% just roll his eyes at villains monologuing at him and then throw them into a wall so he could get back home to grade a calculus exam. I can’t believe no one’s ever figured it out.”

“Well, a few people have to be fair,” Virgil said with a laugh.

“Dr. Patton?”

“Well, he got a pretty big hint from what I understand, but yeah, he put it together. So did Remy, actually.”

“Remy knows?” Roman asked.

“Pretty much since Patton has,” Virgil confirmed. “Logan told me when he started fostering me, not that he had a choice because he’d already shown me his house as Bluebird. He told Emile after that because, I, uh, needed therapy with someone he trusted. It’s… it was a pretty closely guarded secret.”

They descended into silence again after that, going back to eating their food. They eventually migrated to the couch once finished, waiting on Patton to be done with whatever he was doing to help Logan. Clearly growing bored after a bit, Roman leaned over and flipped on the television. They watched the end of some sitcom rerun before the channel switched over to the early morning news at 4am.

They listened to the main story that most people were going to wake up to today, and which was likely going to be blasted all over the news, all day.

“What the hell did he do?” Virgil breathed.

There had been a blackout across a good 1/8th of the city, centered exactly at the old factory they’d invaded earlier in the night. That wasn’t much of a surprise to Virgil and Roman since they’d both noticed the lack of lights when they’d left the building. What did surprise them was reports of people having memory loss. The police had even ended up finding the factory as it appeared to be the epicenter of whatever had happened. They weren’t sure what had happened yet as it was breaking news and the police hadn’t had time to investigate, but the news clearly thought it must have been some villain attack.

“Does your dad have mental powers?” Roman asked.

“I…” Virgil said. “He did allude to having something once or twice, but I never thought...” Had Logan… erased everyone’s memories? There were no fatalities reported yet. Everyone who’d been in the factory was still unconscious, but people who’d been outside of the factory but within a mile of it pretty much had no recollection of the past 12 hours. Who knew what had happened to the people in the factory. Virgil wondered if Logan even knew.

“Well,” Roman commented, “Bluebird just became even more terrifying.”

They continued to watch the newscast, and Roman ended up scrolling through twitter to see if there was any more news breaking that hadn’t gotten to the mainstream.

It was pretty much all the newscasters talked about besides the weather for the next hour. It was an evolving story. The police had found prisoners in cells in a different part of the facility than Roman and Virgil had been in. They were also unconscious and hadn’t been identified yet. So far, nothing could be recovered from the computers despite their generators not having let the computers be cut from power for too long. They’d seemingly been completely wiped somehow.

Just like everyone's minds.

The news went on a small break before promising to start up again at 5. That’s when Patton finally came out of the bedroom.

Roman and Virgil both looked back at him when they heard the door open. He paused and blinked at their maskless faces.

Virgil just shrugged. “He figured us out,” he explained.

“Hi, Dr. Patton,” Roman said.

“Hello, Roman. I didn’t realize you were a superhero.” Virgil would give him a couple of hours before he did the math on Prince’s first appearance and Roman’s age, but for now he seemed too tired and distracted to notice anything amiss. Or even to really react to Roman being Prince at all.

Patton turned to Virgil. “Lo’s fixed up now,” he said. “He’d like to see you. I’m just getting him some soup.”

Relief crashed over Virgil. He’d felt fairly confident that Logan would be okay once Patton had his hands on him, but still, it was a relief to know he was bandaged up with no unforeseen issues.

“Yeah, I’ll go check in with him,” Virgil said.

“Why don’t you sit down for a second, Dr. Patton,” Roman suggested, hopping to his feet. “I’ll prepare the soup. You’ve been standing and worrying for a while.”

Patton flashed him a half smile that was a bit brittle around the edges. “If I sit down, I might crash.”

“Well, that’s okay too!” Roman said. “You deserve to rest a bit.”

Virgil highly doubted the type of crash Patton meant was the physical kind, and that was only emphasized by the tight-lipped smile he gave Roman in response. He did, however, sit on the couch. Virgil handed Patton the remote while getting to his feet.

“You might want to… change to a non-news station,” he suggested.

“Mmm,” Patton acknowledged.

Virgil then turned to the bedroom door. It was closed but cracked open, and Virgil pushed it the rest of the way open to slip inside before closing it completely behind him.

Logan was no longer in his ripped superhero suit. Patton had at some point helped him change into pajamas and had left him propped up on the bed for eating. He looked rather normal except for a bandage on his neck and a couple of bruises disappearing behind the mask on his face, but Virgil knew very well that he was a lot worse for wear underneath his clothes.

He glanced up when Virgil came in.

“Did Prince leave?” he asked, curiously.

Virgil was confused for a moment before he remembered that he was no longer wearing a mask. “Oh, uh, no,” Virgil said. “Prince turned out to be Roman and tonight was all he needed to figure all of us out, so there’s no point to the masks anymore.”

“Roman as in Rhea’s child, Roman?” Logan asked.

“That’d be the one,” Virgil said with a shrug.

He hummed in acknowledgment, contemplating the information for a long moment. Then, he patted the bed next to him.

Virgil was rounding the bed in an instant to climb up into the empty space next to him. He was careful while settling down near him, moving close but not quite touching him since he wasn’t sure where exactly all of his injuries were. He turned on his side to face him, cheek laying on the same pillow as Logan’s head.

“Hey there,” Logan said softly once Virgil had stopped moving.

“Hi, Dad.”

Logan didn’t move to turn onto his side for obvious reasons, but he did shift a bit so he could reach over and pet the back of Virgil’s head for a couple of seconds before just letting his arm flop down onto the bed, curled half around his son.

“Thank you, I suppose I should say,” Logan said after a few seconds. “Though I am not a fan of your methods of saving me.”

Virgil scowled slightly, not that Logan could see it with the way his face was staring at the ceiling. He hoped his dad senses allowed him to feel Virgil’s discontent with that statement anyway. “You don’t even know my methods.”

Logan glanced over at him briefly, an eyebrow raised. “I was informed there was something about a decoy shadow under a pile of blankets and observed you in costume in a secured facility.”

“And what of it?” Virgil asked.

“You were impatient,” Logan scolded. “You could have gotten yourself hurt.”

“Of course, I was impatient,” Virgil argued. “I wasn’t just going to sit around and do nothing.”

“You should have sat around and thought through a plan.”

“Sometimes plans are fucking stupid,” Virgil shot back. “Like yours. My plan worked.”

“And my plan likely would have worked as well, eventually,” Logan said.

“Well, we know mine worked, and quicker, so what’s the problem?”

Logan huffed. “Just because someone manages not to get hurt doing something reckless like jumping from a two-story building doesn’t mean jumping from a two-story building was a good idea.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well your plan was like jumping from a three-story building.”

“My plan was perfectly well thought out,” Logan insisted, a stubborn tilt to his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” Virgil asked. “And what exactly did you think I was going to do when you made your plan? Because it’s not a good plan when I was always going to do what I did.”

Logan sighed. “Good point,” he conceded, shutting his eyes. He apparently was willing to let the argument die there for the moment at least. He was clearly exhausted. Virgil was sure he’d hear more about it when the man was feeling better though.

There was a long pause in which Virgil pressed his face against Logan’s shoulder. He’d honestly thought that Logan had fallen asleep, with his eyes closed and his breathing leveling out. Yet after a few minutes, Logan spoke again.

“You have a hero’s soul, you know,” he said conversationally.

“What?” Virgil asked, not quite sure what he was talking about, but still saying, “No, I don’t.”

“You do,” Logan corrected easily. “It’s admirable, but I fear it’s also liable to drive you towards stupidity.”

“I do not, and it does not,” Virgil argued back.

“The last time you threw yourself into danger for me, it was in front of a bullet.”

Virgil was silent.

“I was very much hoping there wouldn’t be a repeat performance.”

They were silent again, because of course there had been a repeat performance. How could there not have been? When Logan was Bluebird and Logan was Logan. Virgil would have literally thrown himself in front of a bullet again if the circumstances had necessitated it.

Logan sighed, knowing what Virgil was saying with his silence.

“I’m fine,” said Virgil.

“I know.”

“You’re not.”

“I will recover.”

“Will you?”

Silence, and Virgil knew what Logan was saying in his.

There was a knock at the door then. “I come bearing soup,” Roman’s voice declared.

“Come in,” said Logan.

Roman shouldered the door open, a tray of soup in his arms. “Hey, Mr. Dr. Sanders,” he said with a small smile.

“Hello, Roman,” Logan replied. “I suppose I can take my mask off.”

“Here, I’ll do it,” offered Virgil, reaching up to carefully pull the black mask off of Logan’s face. He tried not to wince at the purpling bruises covering it.

Roman came fully into the room, and Patton followed closely behind. Roman settled the tray on Logan’s lap while Patton perched on the edge of the bed. Patton’s hand reached back to touch Virgil’s ankle briefly.

“Thank you,” Logan said as Roman sat down in one of the chairs in the room. It was awkward and quiet while Logan started eating his soup.

“So,” Roman eventually said, breaking the silence, “I never would have guessed Bluebird was a nerd.”

Logan scoffed immediately and rolled his eyes. He pointed his spoon threateningly at Roman. “Enough out of you.”

“No, seriously, great secret identity. You could walk into class still in the Bluebird suit and everyone would wonder why Professor Sanders was cosplaying Bluebird that day.”

“Honestly, I should have been able to guess with you,” Logan grumbled. Roman smiled slightly, and Virgil was glad Roman was here to lighten the mood and make Logan act a bit like normal.

“You know, I have so many questions for you!”

Logan arched an eyebrow, looking tired, but in a different way than he already was tired. “Like what?”

“If you think too hard about a math equation, do you accidently explode your chalkboard?”

Logan stared at him for a moment and then Roman yelped, shooting off of his seat. “Hey!”

Virgil snickered as Logan smirked into his soup.

“Yes,” Patton answered, with a soft smile.

Logan turned to him with a pout. “I haven’t done that since my dissertation.”

“And when you read the Dahlberg paper 3 years ago,” Patton reminded him.

They continued to argue about it then in that soft way that they always argued. That being, it wasn’t really an argument at all. If Virgil closed his eyes, he could pretend it was just a normal night at home with his parents and that Roman was visiting. That was enough for now.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #platonic prinxiety #logicality #adriana writes #not pieces fic #labeled universe #sometimes labels shift #best laid plans #past child abuse #past child neglect #implied/referenced torture #blood and injury

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andtheyreonfire · 2 years

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when you’ve laid your hands upon me

pssst. pssssssst. @borrowedblue . a manic twink dressed like a cross between freddy mercury and oscar the grouch told me it was ya birthday. heard u like scary man, so.,

Like I said on Ao3, this is kinda a song fic! Start the song at “the giant pressed play” for an enhanced experience :0

Special thanks to @bilgisticallykosher for helpin me with this fic! i have been waiting all day to read urs girl.,

Word Count: 4168

Ao3 Link

Warnings: Fearplay, consensual fearplay, references to body mutilation, Remus-typical POV, and cursing.

A gust of breath launched the straw wrapper in Remus’ mouth to the other side of the room.

It fluttered, looped, glided through the air in something one could almost call beautiful. Flew through a sliver of dull light shining through Remus’ blinded windows. Turned green in the neon light radiating from his beloved Frankensteined Furby’s eyes, shimmering from its spot on his desk. The straw wrapper crinkled, almost ethereal in Remus’ piss-colored lighting, like a lost soul drifting back to the netherworld finding peace.

The straw wrapper hit the back wall, and fell to the floor like the flaccid piece of paper it was.

Remus groaned.

There were no side commissions to complete. No work in the middle of spring. No inspiration for a project bubbling up out of the blue, and the materials for his current ones were on their way. Rummaging around in their garage was too much work. Getting up only to sit down at his shitty computer felt like a waste.

Remus was, in every sense of the word, bored as fuck.

At times like these, the human would find his way over to Logan, drape himself over his boyfriend’s shoulders and ask normal questions like how long would it take someone to bleed out after having their dick ripped off by a lion? and on a scale of 1-10, how fuckable are giant squids?

But Logan was doing adult things, like taxes and filing taxes and chugging almost giant-sized cups of coffee. As cute as the furrow of his boyfriend’s brow and concentrated pout were, being disturbed was the last thing Logan would want.

Remus scratched a stain on his Fish Want Me, Women Fear Me tee, gaze drifting around the room. It landed on the painted guitar pick—bigger than his head, like most of Remus’ stolen goods gifts were—mounted on the wall.

Looking at the swirling landscape of a prairie in a hurricane, a grin spread on Remus’ face.

What were two boyfriends for, anyways, if not for twice the amount of Tomfuckery?

Remus catapulted himself off his bed, ignoring the music scale of pops his back released. A quick jog down the human walkways along the walls, a cheerful wave to a Logan perched on the literally giant-sized couch, and Remus found himself at the door of his other boyfriend’s room.

Well. Human-sized door.

Remus barged in, because knocking was only something door salesmen came up with to sell more doors—just like how shitting was only invented by toilet salesmen to sell more toilets.

Sure enough, a massive, macab-dressed form was hunched over a tangled, all-too expensive sound system; wires and cords strewn around like tentacles from a god of the void. The giant was bobbing his head, strains of a guitar faintly protruding from bulky headphones. He drummed a beat out with colossal, black painted claws.

Remus trotted forward.

He could tell the moment the giant noticed him. Cat-like pupils flickered towards him, locking onto his movements like a predator staring down prey. It was hard to tell if the lightning that struck his nerves was from instinctual fear or...something else.

Not many humans had the balls to live and breathe near giant-dominated areas—or giants at all, for that matter. Remus and his former-friend-turned-partner were the exception, of course.

And yet, the rockstar in front of him seemed to bring out something different in people. Despite being one of the scariest motherfuckers you could find on a stage, humans and giants alike still flocked to him like moths to an inferno.

Because his music brought out that instinctual, stomach-plummeting fear and honed it. Used it. Celebrated it.

Remus screamed himself hoarse during his first concert, alight with adrenaline and sweat and terror as he was drowned out by speakers ten stories tall. Craning his neck back to see a performer that could hold him in his hand growl out a booming melody. Feeling his knees shiver as vibrations threatened to send him sprawling to his feet.

Remus had known since that first instant he was in love.

He wasn’t even the one that had found his way in the performer’s hand during one of his—ah, audience interactions. The rockstar would parade around a lucky soul like a toy, showing them off and riling them up and scaring them shitless, showing the world the monster he was.

That was all Logan.

Wasn’t like the nerd didn’t sign the proper wavers, they may have just...been shoved away before he could read them. Really, Remus oughta give Janus a medal for getting Logan in the front-row venue.

Remus waved, leaning over the railing he knew could splinter so easily in the giant’s grip. He heard a flash of blaring guitars as his partner slid off his headphones, before he shut off the program with a single click.

If anything, Remus’ partner certainly knew how exhilarating he could be.

The giant grinned, rows of massive, sharp teeth shining in his gay-ass fairy lights. “Hey, Remus.”

That fondness—the quiet, almost teasing lit he gave to someone roughly the size of his finger—was almost enough to send a ball of hellfire careening through Remus’ chest. “Hey, Virgil. What’s fucking?”

“Just runnin’ through the track we recorded last week.” Virgil Tempestas—a stage name, mostly—offered out a palm as long as Remus’ body. The human wasted no time catapulting himself into the soft flesh, jerking upright as the giant brought Remus to his chest. “The instrumental is mixed, which means we’ll probably hit our deadline, but...”

Remus craned his neck back, looking up at Virgil’s face. “But?”

“It just—the vibes aren't right.” His boyfriend huffed, running a hand through a shock of purple hair. “Like—the feel is underdeveloped, or overdeveloped, or the tone isn’t right. I don’t know. I want to be able to perform this live, and it doesn’t...flow. Here.”

With a few clicks, a drumbeat burst out from the sound system. Remus paused, letting the sound wash over him. Guitars joined in a few beats later.

He closed his eyes, imagined giant combat boots stomping around on a stage as big as a city block. Imagined a low, rumbling voice echoing far above him. Imagined fear pumping through his veins, hyper-aware of the powerlessness that pinned him in place and sent him screaming.

Remus imagined what of sound an angel made of chains and strings and churning metal would make, and opened his eyes.

“Bass-boost it, I want my ears to bleed.” He crawled over and leaned against the thumb—the thumb that probably stopping him from throwing himself off the giant’s hand. Virgil’s gaze flickered down to him, and Remus shrugged. “Other than that, sounds good to me. Top ten songs to get your shit kicked in to, definitely.”

Virgil snorted, but slid his headphones back on after a nod from Remus. The human took that moment to latch onto Virgil’s thumb and try to wrestle it to the center of his palm.

He failed—especially when Virgil demonstrated his ability to pin all his limbs down with one hand—but it was a valiant effort.

After some fun and riveting times squirming under fingers as long as Remus was tall, the giant removed his headphones. Remus perked up as his appendages were freed. “Alright. How ‘bout now?”

Virgil pressed play. Deep, booming cords reverberated over him, through him, thrumming in his core. A shudder passed down his spine. Remus grinned. “It’s perfect. Gonna be a hit, I can feel it—Oh, c’mon, what’s got your dick in a twist?”

Virgil bit his lip—which wasn’t fair because that was Remus’ job thank you very much—as Remus frowned at the rockstar’s furrowed brow. The human was about to crawl up to Virgil’s beautiful face and force it out of him when he blurted, “I didn’t practice anything for a concert, I didn’t think to. I usually have a specific act in mind but things didn’t really work out so I don’t—feel like I know the song? And I can’t put on a show if I don’t even know what I’m trying to sing?” The giant sighed. “Yeah.”

Remus leaned back, considering. “You want an act.”

“Yes.”

The human stared up into eyes bigger than his head. “Then let’s make one.”

Those eyes widened, cat-like pupils dilating. “...You sure? We haven’t done that in a while.”

The human’s heart fluttered at the hint of petulance in Virgil’s tone. Seemed the giant enjoyed their cat-and-mouse game as much as Remus did. It wasn’t harmful, just a bit of good, old-fashioned mortal terror and blood-pumping for the soul. Mostly, Virgil did it to test out new show bits or review an old trick, because Virgil was a prep who wanted practice with scaring the shit out of people.

Remus was the only one in their house who could stomach it. Wasn't his fault the looming, the growling, and the reminder of how helpless he was in the face of a monster setting his heart pounding with more than terror. They yearn for what they fear for and all that.

Well—he was pretty sure Logan did enjoy it, even if a few minutes of a game let him out of breath, stuttering, with his face flushed and voice a squeak. He seemed to prefer Virgil’s softer, snarkier side to even the just-for-pretendsies looming danger.

Remus once broke his arm on purpose on their backyard’s brick wall trying to see if he could fit his fingers into his shoulder socket, so.

“Are you kidding? Fuck yes.” Remus wriggled in Virgil’s palm, stopped from toppling off by a gentle claw pressing down on him. “Put me down so you can slam your hands next to me or whatever.”

Virgil snorted, but lowered his hand down to the desk anyways. Virgil’s work desk was massive, even for giants; just a vast expanse of dark wood. His set-up barely filled half of it. “I haven’t even started the music yet, chill.”

Remus slid off the palm, before crossing his arms and pouting up at his boyfriend. “C’mon, I wanna see your fangs, pretty boy. Set upon me like a flock of vultures on a rotting corpse or whatever—”

Virgil leaned forward, setting his forearms on either side of Remus and looming over him. As a shadow fell Remus, he craned his neck back, only to catch sight of massive fangs splitting into a sharp grin. “It’s cute that you think you can tell me what to do,” Virgil Tempestas purred, voice reverberating down and through Remus’ core and fuck, fuck. “Patience, little morsel.”

Virgil leaned back. Remus’ heart lurched forward with him. He took a moment to try to shrug off the flush on his cheeks using his face alone, stopped only by Virgil snorting at his expression. The giant raked his hair back with his claws, stretching to grab a hair tie to put it back. Remus couldn’t help but shiver. Oh, this session was going to be fun.

With a click, the giant pressed play.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Virgil asked, laying a hand flat against his desk. Any growl was absent from his voice, a patently sincere look the only thing toward Remus.

Remus lunged forward, splaying his body across Virgil’s palm yet again. He blew a raspberry. “Duh. I got no reason not to be.”

Virgil watched him wriggle in his palm, and Remus resisted the urge to cringe away from that cat-like, predator gaze. The time for blue-balls was later, goddamnit.

Nothing left to do but enjoy the show.

The beat was nice, steady, a heavy drum pounding through the quiet of the room. Remus stretched as a guitar joined in the mix. He looked up, up, up into his giant’s eyes, and the human’s crinkled at the loving look Virgil directed at him.

The drums slowed, thrumming out a staccato rhythm, and—

Remus found the palm below him gone as Virgil tossed him up.

The guitars surged, fast and sending daggers piercing through his ears, no doubt drowning out the half-delighted shriek Remus let out. The human flailed, catching a glimpse of the ground so far from him, and his stomach lurched like a container of fucking pickle juice.

The back of his shirt caught. Remus twisted around to see two massive claws pinching it, dangling from a comparatively thin layer of fabric over a fatal fall. The fingers moved, and Remus grasped his shirt collar before it could choke him. He stopped in front of the giant’s face.

Virgil’s mouth twisted into a scowl. Remus’ heart pulsed like someone shoved a screwdriver through it.

And the giant began to sing.

Virgil’s voice was deep—it always had been, apparently. Remus couldn’t imagine anything but those low, crooning tones, pounding through his core like the world’s sharpest drums.

The giant’s fangs were on full display. They shone in the afternoon light, slid against his lip like a sheathed sword, etched closer as the giant leaned in to purr a line in Remus’ face. Wicked-sharp, almost as long as Remus’ forearm, and very, very powerful.

Little morsel, the owner of those fangs had called him, hunched over Remus’ tiny form and looking at him like he was nothing more.

Little morsel, Tempestas had called him, and, well, wasn’t he right?

As the giant’s voice turned soft, he brought Remus away from his face. Those inhuman eyes crinkled into something almost like grief. Remus stilled as Virgil moved a massive claw up to his cheek, and the cool, sharp tip trailed down tiny, vulnerable flesh.

The grip around Remus was iron, but under the stare of something so massive, the attention of someone his mind called a predator, Remus found he couldn’t move if he wanted to.

Virgil leaned in, and Remus’ body vibrated with that low voice. The giant’s gaze slide away, and Remus’ heart stopped as Tempestas’ face shuttered closed.

The guitars exploded, and the giant moved.

Blaring bass, pounding drums, Virgil hunched over him, snarling lyrics to the human in his hand. His voice boomed, but Remus could scarcely hear anything over the roaring in his ears. He glanced away, only for an instant, and his gaze snapped back like a rubber band as Virgil’s shadow engulfed him.

Is this what storm chasers felt, staring down the eye of something so much more than you? The booming of thunder in your core, the crackle of lightning in the distance, craning your neck back overhead to see clouds, a gathering storm, a disaster in motion? Helpless to do anything but sit back and watch the rain pour?

It was certainly what Remus felt, staring up, up, up at Virgil. Staring up at his love.

Remus laughed, slightly manic, and hoped the giant didn’t hear it over the thrumming of the music—

Only for it to turn into a grimace as Virgil dropped him on the table. The human scrambled back, on his feet and staring up as Tempestas launched into the second verse. Virgil tilted his head, slow, almost deliberate, running his eyes down the prey in front of him. Remus swallowed.

Tempestas took a step to the side, standing tall and pinning Remus with his gaze. His claws flexed. He prowled around the desk and—well, wasn’t it funny, how Remus almost felt like the one on a stage, putting on a show to the giant looming over him?

The rockstar leaned forward and tilted his head. Remus couldn’t do anything but stare back as the giant ran a claw down his shoulder. He leaned in, closer. Closer. His gaze turned soft. The dark clouds parted.

Something flickered, and Remus jerked back as the giant closed the final gap with a snarl. He slammed a hand next to the human, and—

The giant’s face filled his vision, his hands practically wrapped around him, his heat seeping into his skin. The sharp smell of peppermint wafted from Tempestas’ mouth. He was so close to him, almost making up his entire world.

Tempestas leaned back, gaze flickering away, and the iron grip around Remus’ heart tightened. Massive claws rapped a beat on the table.

When Tempestas peered down at Remus, he didn’t smile, but was a near thing.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” the giant asked, voice sliding in-tune with the bass. The music blared on, and Remus’ heart leaped as Tempestas moved back to loom over him. “Of course you feel it. Why wouldn’t you?”

Remus craned his neck back, shivering as the giant’s shadow engulfed him. His eyes drifted to the claws so close to him, only to jerk back as something warm and sharp ruffled his hair. The giant smiled, fangs glittering.

“Thrumming, thrumming, thrumming.” His voice was low, that special sort of rumble that only emerged in performances. “The bass, your heart, the vibrations from my voice, up and in you and all around you." Tempestas leveled him with an expecting stare. “You feel that thrumming, that pounding?”

Remus nodded, adrenaline setting his nerves alight, and those massive eyes crinkled. “Thought so.” Tempestas hummed. “Let me ask you something more.”

Tempestas moved, standing over Remus from a diagonal angle. One way clear, it seemed: across from the giant and forward. No hiding spots on the expanse of the desk, but it would take the Tempestas time to reach out. Enough time to run.

If Remus’ legs didn’t give out before he could escape.

“Can you hear my voice?” Tempestas crooned. “It must be loud to those tiny, sensitive ears of yours.” The giant's claws stopped, flickered to point in the air. “Can you hear the pounding of the drums? If this were a real concert, your voice would be drowned out by them so effortlessly.”

Tempestas leaned forward, chest five times as wide as Remus was tall pushing up against the desk. The storm tilted his head. “Can you hear the beating of my heart?”

Remus paused, ice flooding through his veins. The giant purred, “Listen. It shouldn’t be hard.”

And—he could. Blocking out everything except the natural disaster in front of him, he could hear it. It was slow, and so, horribly, loud. As big as a whale’s, pounding, pounding, pounding.

An amused breath of air sent Remus’ hair askew. Tempestas’ voice dropped low, reverberating through the human’s body like a swarm of locusts. “Can you feel anything but me?”

A claw ran down Remus’ back. The pad of the finger pulsed with a massive pulse, surging with the beat. “Can you hear anything but my sound?”

That claw travelled to Remus’ chest, and bits of the human’s tee caught on its small, jagged edges. It slid under the human’s chin and lifted it up. Remus shuddered at the cold tip of it against his neck. “Remus,” Tempestas hummed. “Do you know how helpless you are?”

A blush burned Remus’ cheeks. The giant grinned, fangs shining like chainsaw teeth, and the human’s knees threatened to buckle. “I know what you’re feeling right now.”

The threat under Remus’ neck retreated. Remus’ hand shot to his throat, watching the giant examine a line of claws, each one almost as big as Remus’ head. “Maybe it’s a shiver down your spine. Maybe it’s the hammering of your tiny, little heart. Maybe it’s the blood running through your veins.” The giant’s gaze flickered over him. “You’re vibrating right now, Remus, and it’s not from excitement.”

Remus held a hand in front of his face, watching it shake like a leaf in a hurricane. He was, wasn’t he?

The giant leaned back, and Remus craned his head up, up, up. “You feel it.” He laughed, a sharp, booming thing. “Why wouldn’t you?”

The monster peered at him, gaze wide and unwavering, the gaze of a predator. “Do you feel the urge to run?”

The drums hissed, lightning-quick. The guitars surged like the booming of thunder.

Remus bolted.

The pressure in his legs abated, burning as he pumped them faster, faster. Alarm bells blared, the music roaring in harmony with the static in his ears. A thin sheen of sweat crept down his forehead. A cackle behind him tore through the black noise in his head. Remus pushed himself faster—

He tripped, fell, went sprawling with the edge of the table an arm’s length away. He stumbled forward on his hands and knees, whining. It was right there. It was right THERE—

A massive hand slammed in front of Remus. Claws curled in on him like splintered branches.

Too late.

The human lurched back, whipping around to see the monster looming over him. The giant practically screamed the next lyrics. Remus’ cheeks darkened as he filled up his vision, overwhelming Remus’ ears with pounding music, snarled singing, the thrumming of a massive heart.

Remus’ breath caught in his throat. He had to run. He had to run, get away, move, do anything to escape the behemoth before him. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, why was he frozen, why was he was trapped, why he couldn’t he move move from the predator he’s goiNG TO—

“Virgil?” Came a distant, quiet voice. “Oh. Am I interrupting something?”

The music stopped. Remus creaked open his eyes—when had he closed them? —as the giant in front of him rumbled, “Nah, we’re just having fun.” The massive hand around him squeezed, gentle, yet firm. The human’s heart fluttered. “What’s up?”

Silence. Considering, analyzing silence. Not judgmental, but sharp enough for you to wilt anyways. Remus could recognize Logan’s presence anywhere. Finally, their boyfriend said, “I was considering ordering Chinese shortly. Do you want anything?”

Virgil’s gaze flickered down. His fangs were hidden, gaze open, no trace of the thing of nature present just moments before. He spoke, and it was like the gentle patter of rain. “You want your usual?”

Remus nodded, adrenaline still clogging his vocal cords. He leaned back into Virgil’s palm, letting the warmth seep through his skin. “Vegetable Chow Mein for Remus.” A massive claw ruffled his hair, and Remus made a noise like a deflated balloon animal. “I wouldn’t mind some sushi. Don't care what flavor. Thank you, love.”

“You’re welcome.” Remus could hear the smile in Logan’s voice. He considered throwing a hand over Virgil’s hand to wave after him, but...it was so warm. After a moment, Logan called out, “Try not to overwhelm Remus before dinner.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Virgil breathed. His gaze flickered down towards Remus, slight panic in his eyes. Remus gave a thumbs up, sticking his tongue out for good measure. Virgil deflated a little in relief. Really, how could Remus ever be scared of such a massive dork?

Heh. Dork. After distant footsteps retreated, Remus sprung up from Virgil’s hand. “You found your bit?”

Virgil glanced away, almost like he was scared to look at someone the size of his finger. Pussy. “Uh, sure. You good, Re? I know I got carried away—”

Remus waved a hand. “I’m fine, you tall drink. You barely answered my question!” The human put his hands on his hips, trying for his best stern gaze. “I’ll climb up there and pull you down myself if I need to, bitch.”

The being who could overpower him with barely a thought snorted. “I don’t doubt it—but, uh, yeah. I got it.” Virgil smiled, his genuine one that was more eyes than teeth. “Thank you, really. You gave me a lot to work with—Well. One problem.”

“Yeah?”

“It is...a lot. Not really something I would consider doing spontaneously, especially with a stranger.” Virgil leaned in, folding his arms under him and setting his chin on top. “I can’t help but think it would be better to do it with, say...someone I know.”

Remus’ heart spasmed. He resisted the urge to clutch at it, in the process resisting the urge to bite down on his fingers and see if he was dreaming. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Virgil’s gaze turned soft, open, eyes shining like amethysts. “Obviously, it’ll be different. And only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to force you or anything—”

“I’d fucking love to.” Remus stumbled forward. He nodded, nodded again, looked up at Virgil with a fire in his eyes. “Yes, I want you to toss me around like a limp fucking French fry. Yes—”

“Hey, chill, I haven’t even released the song yet. My next concert ain’t for a while, either.” Virgil’s gaze turned sheepish. “I’ll tone it down a bit, too. Don’t want you to collapse before the show ends.”

Well, rude, but Remus didn’t mind. He surged forward, throwing himself against Virgil’s lips, and shuddered as he felt the giant let out a small gasp of surprise.

He was technically doing the opposite of ‘chilling’, grasping at whatever small bit of skin he could put his hands on and nipping the top of Virgil’s lip. But as that impossibly soft mouth pressed against his body, Remus figured that Virgil didn’t mind, either.

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brain-deadx0 · 1 year

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Wip challenge

Rules: Write the latest line from your wip and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

I was tagged by @iguessthisisanewobsession

He vaguely registered Janus’s concerned voice as he hung up the phone.

So for the New Big Brother readers out there, I'm hoping to get this out before Christmas. Prepare your tissues in advance.

I got twelve and since I mostly know current/previously Sanders sides writers

@i-will-physically-fight-you @snowdice @bilgisticallykosher @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @typically-untypical and anyone else who wants to because I am now blanking on usernames

#tag game #writers tag game

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tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors · 3 years

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Okay I just read chapter one of Chipped Tea Sets and I'm devastated but my brain produced this;

Logan: Mother, Father. Janus and I have decided to usurp your power and take over your roles ourselves.

The Fitzroys: What? That's not even how that works, you can't-

Janus, already sitting in their chairs, crown on his head: Too late.

alskjdalksjdlasjk i love this for them lol

#pieces verse #pieces logan #pieces janus #bilgisticallykosher #ask

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clonerightsagenda · 3 years

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animated-homunculus said: hannukah is also like. a pretty minor holiday and is only really major in north america/few other places because it coincides with christmas. so if you’re picking a single holiday for someone in france in the 40s to celebrate it’s a really fucking weird choice

It was particularly wild because a major plot point in the story was writing people’s names in a book which makes not mentioning Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur extra egregious imo.

bilgisticallykosher said: Yeah, I love seeing Jewish content and then, whoops, all Chanukah. But wow, specifically in WW2 and in France, too? And no other implications of Judaism? That’s a whole other level.

I know. I’m trying to remember if anything else came up and the only thing I can think of is mentioning the protagonist getting on her knees to pray a few times, which... I’m not sure that’s a thing either?

#animated-homunculus #bilgisticallykosher #replies #also some drama bc her mom didn't want her dating someone who wasn't Jewish #so all in all not great #like... persecution against her family for being Jewish is a major element #but when it comes to religious practice? it's Hanukkah all the way down baby

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

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Romantic Remus and Janus, uhhhh, warning.

“this is your last warning,” remus says, eyes wide and feral, morningstar dragging along the uneven concrete. janus, pressing a hand to his side, wheezes and sinks down to the ground. “if you come after my husband again, i will rend you limb from limb and -”

janus tunes out the rest of remus’s threats and the screams of the opposing lackeys as arms lift him up. “i gotcha,” roman whispers. “remus sent a car for you. come on, we’re going back to the base.”

“re?” janus whispers.

“he’s gonna give them a warning they won’t forget,” roman promises. “i’ll get you home safe, come on.”

#three sentence fic #ts dukeceit #ts janus #ts remus #tw injury mention #bilgisticallykosher #starshineanswers

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callboxkat · 3 years

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♤Logan, SC, so, buddy. How's that OCD coming? You gonna, like, do something about that?

8/10

Logan folds his arms. “I don’t know what you mean.”

A beat passes.

“...Patton and I are working on it.”

#second chances fic #bilgisticallykosher #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #ask game

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delimeful · 10 months

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Hey hey hey hey shark week it's shark week time, time for a shark week ask.

In dtttww, is Roman any specific type of shark? I'd been picturing generic great white/ mako type body, but since he's so big I think it'd be hilarious if he were one of the shark giants, all of which are eaters of krill/plankton.

happy shark week everyone (mandatory global holiday)

i didn't have a particular shark in mind as far as i remember, but i think i was picturing something more along the lines of a reef shark? i would embrace most shark takes though, all sharks are valid casting choices in my eyes <3

#asks #sharks #bilgisticallykosher #queue #dtttww #maybe he's just the world's biggest lantern shark

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onenicebugperday · 3 years

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An FYI for your followers, if submissions are closed, /r/whatsthisbug on reddit is usually pretty good! Love your blog, great job!

Yes, that's true! Thanks :)

#bilgisticallykosher

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haunted-van-au · 3 years

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To Thomas; vroom vroom! Scree! Vrooooom, rrrRRrrRRRRRrrrrrRRRrrrrrrr, vroom!

...What about cheese? You want cheese? The kids have some cheese in the back, I think. Here. *A block of off brand velveta cheese is lobbed at your head.*

Thomas is semi open for questions. (You can ask, but the answers may not be 100% coherent.)

Roman is open for questions.

Patton is open for questions.

Logan is open for questions.

#haunted road trip #itinerary #hv thomas #bilgisticallykosher

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snowdice · 2 years

Text

Best Laid Plans (Part 3/8: An Old Enemy) [Sometimes Labels Shift Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Virgil & Roman, Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Virgil, Roman

Appear: Logan, Patton

Mentioned: Remy, Emile, Janus, Remus

Summary:

Sometimes even the best laid plans fail.

Also I keep forgetting to put it on here, but thanks to @bilgisticallykosher, @kiapet2, and ASmallForest (on discord) for being betas!

Part 1 Part 2

Roman was unsure why something in the air felt off that night, but it did. Usually, he’d be off roving through the city as the well-renowned, spectacular, rivaled only by the likes of Bluebird himself, the glorious superhero, Prince. However, this night, urged on by some strange feeling, he decided to be a bit more discreet.

Nadir was the name he’d given the persona he was currently using, not that anyone knew that. The public didn’t know Nadir; that was rather the point. Still, it was nice to have something to separate who he was as Nadir from Prince and from Roman. Nadir would probably be classified as a vigilante (if anyone knew of him) as he acted from the shadows and as a rule didn’t cooperate with anyone let alone with the police. Though people who knew Prince might have been surprised by this fact, Roman was fine with being classed as a vigilante.

Prince often denounced vigilantes publicly and vigorously. He thought they should all stand in the light if they wanted to go against the dark mostly because he, himself, enjoyed the limelight.

Roman had always known vigilantes could be good. They could be better than heroes in many cases.

And Nadir was one.

And he was not the only vigilante out and about tonight. In fact, that might have been contributing to the off feeling that Roman had. Deceit had been out tonight, and he was out out. He was in full costume and everything.

The old vigilante wasn’t big on being seen by the public. He mostly worked silently, striking like a snake from the grass. He used to be a bit more put together in his youth, but these days when he did end up in the public eye, it was usually clearly an unplanned appearance.

90% of these fights he did in pajamas and simply used his powers to make everyone around him think he was wearing his normal costume. He was good at it too. It used to work on even Roman, until Remus had pointed out the edges to the illusion.

Remus had always been better at the Seeing power. As twins, they shared powers, but Remus had been the one to develop that power first and had taught it to Roman. So, he’d been the one to first spot that the intimidating, hardened, famous vigilante Deceit was wearing pajama pants with little cartoon lemons sporting sunglasses on them while fighting a shapeshifter.

Honestly, considering what Roman’s grandfather and mom had told them about the man (which went directly against the general public consensus regarding the vigilante), that about tracked. It was still hilarious though.

Tonight however, Deceit was not in his pajamas. He’d been making his presence known, and everyone had pretty much stayed clear of him. It was probably why the streets were so utterly quiet. Citizens in general liked Deceit these days, but they also knew to stay out of his way if he was doing something, if not because it was important then because he was prickly. Nadir had silently followed him for a bit but hadn’t been able to figure out what he was doing.

Now Roman was in a park. He thought about going back to his apartment and going to bed. Usually, he would have by now. He didn’t have any early, early classes, but he still had to be up at some point tomorrow morning. Yet, he didn’t. He continued to sit in the park in his Prince costume, but as Nadir instead of Prince.

The difference between Nadir and Prince was not a costume. In fact, Nadir had no costume, as no one ever saw him. The difference between the two was primarily which power Roman was leaning on the most at the time, though he obviously would use all of his powers when necessary, in any form.

Roman had three fairly distinct powers. There was Seeing which Roman honestly left to his brother most of the time except to give himself an edge in certain fights, superstrength which was what the public knew Prince for, and Nadir’s power: the power to not be perceived.

The first time Roman ceased to exist was the day the world almost ended three times. The first in the way that a child thinks the world is ending because they didn’t get their way; the second because it almost actually did, and the third because Roman’s own personal world got right to the edge of shattering.

The last thing Roman had ever said to his mom before she went into work as the chief of police for the last time was that he’d never forgive her. He’d gotten a wad of gum stuck in his hair and Mom had been forced to cut it out. Roman had liked his hair long because it was pretty, and Mama would always help him style it in the mornings. Roman had been lying face down on the kitchen floor, face beet red and bawling when Mom had kissed Mama and Remus goodbye and walked out of the door for the last time. Roman had refused her offered kiss.

Later that day, an organized, ruthless group of villains had attacked strategic locations across the city and the world; this attack would later be referred to as The Onslaught. It was one of the most devastating villain attacks in recent history. Their city was one of the main targets.

Three separate villains took part in the attack. From what the authorities had been able to guess afterwards, they had been trying to get something from the university. Presumably, they had not gotten whatever it was before being taken down because nothing horrible had happened from it. Bluebird had somehow figured out the attack on the city was a distraction because he’d gotten into a fight with one of the attackers at the university.

Bluebird, along with the vigilante Deceit, the police force, and a few less notable heroes and vigilantes from the time did their best to stop the attack and protect civilian lives, but it was a vicious attack and they were spread thin. A lot of people died, and a lot of people got hurt.

Including Mom.

Mom got pushed off a building.

In the hospital, Mama had been inconsolable, and the people tasked with watching her two sons had had their hands full with Remus who’d been set on destroying the hospital with his super strength in his ill-handled childhood grief. Roman had crawled under a table, curled up into a little ball, and promptly decided he wasn’t there anymore.

The universe had been cruel that day, but it had seemed to see fit to allow him that wish.

He’d watched with interest once his caretakers had finally managed to calm Remus enough so they could direct him to just tearing up paper and stuffed animals instead of walls and pipes. Then, they’d realized they didn’t know where the other twin with superstrength was. He’d listened to them panic saying again and again that he couldn’t have snuck out of the room because the door was still locked. They’d looked everywhere in the private waiting room… except under the table.

Remus had told them he’d seen Roman climb under the table, but they still hadn’t looked under the table. They’d called someone else in to look for him too, but that person had not looked under the table either. Roman hadn’t called out to them to tell them where he was.

He hadn’t wanted to come out. He hadn’t wanted them to find him. He hadn’t wanted them to even look in his direction.

So, nobody had.

Nobody had even after they’d moved Remus to a different room. Nobody had even when they’d started searching the hospital. Nobody had when there was a hospital-wide announcement on the intercom about him being missing. That had been fine with Roman.

It wasn’t until a man in a doctor’s coat had come into the room and walked over to the coffee machine in the waiting room that anything had changed. The man had looked how Roman felt in that moment. He’d looked tired and sad and a whole bunch of other jumbled things Roman couldn’t parse enough to put a name to.

He hadn’t been looking for Roman, but when he’d leaned against the counter while waiting for his coffee, he’d looked down and their eyes had met.

He’d seemed to forget about his coffee the moment he saw Roman, walking over to kneel in front of the table. He’d sat there for a long couple of moments. “Hey there, kiddo,” the man had said gently. “I’m guessing you’re the Mr. Roman Silvia everyone’s been looking for.”

Roman had nodded, hugging his knees miserably.

“Well, what are you doing under there?” the man had asked. “Doesn’t look very comfy.”

“My mom’s not okay,” he’d said instead of answering, though perhaps that was an answer on its own.

“I…” the man had said, sucking in a breath. “I know, honey.”

“I didn’t kiss her goodbye this morning, because I was mad she’d cut gum out of my hair,” Roman had divulged, sniffling, “and now she’s gonna die.”

The man had paused for a long moment, something intense flashing across his face. “I’m going to make you a deal, Roman,” he’d said after a moment. “If you can hope your mom’s going to live, then I will too. How about that?”

He hadn’t understood what the man had been promising him then. “Okay,” Roman had said.

“Okay,” the man had repeated. “Now, let’s get you back to where you need to be, and I’ll get back where I need to be.” He’d reached out a hand and Roman had taken it. He’d crawled out from under the table and let the man take him to the people who were looking for him.

He’d learned later that that man had been Dr. Sanders.

Dr. Sanders had been the one to save his mom’s life.

He hadn’t saved his mom’s legs, and she’d been asleep for almost 6 months, but he’d saved her.

Roman had learned how to use a new power that day. It had risen up inside him from a place he still didn’t quite understand. He hadn’t realized it was a power until later, but after a while he’d been able to figure out what it was and learn to control it. In truth, he was better at using it than the superstrength he and Remus had been using since before they could even walk.

It was a mental power, he would later understand, and a rare one at that because of its complexity and subtlety. He could basically put out a mental field around himself that made anyone perceiving him either pay absolute and complete attention to him or none at all. With work, he’d managed to turn it from an on and off switch to a gradient. He could make it so his teachers didn’t notice him checking his phone during class but didn’t forget he was there or make sure people paid just a bit more attention to his monologues on stage. He’d even gotten to the point where he could pick and choose who was affected and could extend his power to one or two other people as well.

When he’d started going out as Prince, the power had been useful. It was easy to sneak up on villains when their eyes slid right over him and with a couple of superstrength taps, it was all over. Or when he was helping Bluebird, he could shout ‘I’m a distraction’ and completely pull the attention of the villains they were fighting away from the other superhero so Bluebird could defeat them easier. Roman would always get a lecture about how that was not a good distraction and how it was very dangerous to draw fire like that. Roman would just shrug and say “it worked, didn’t it?” which never failed to send the man fuming.

And yet, Prince wasn’t Roman’s only alter ego who helped Bluebird with perception powers. Nadir was good at getting information. He could walk into a villain’s base, make himself a sandwich, and walk back out without any issues most of the time. Roman would often slip anything he learned to Bluebird in some way.

He wasn’t gathering or slipping Bluebird information tonight, however. In fact, he hadn’t even seen the hero today. It wasn’t unordinary to not run into him, either because they were in different places or one of them simply wasn’t out. There was nothing wrong and yet there he sat. There Nadir sat.

At least, until a human shaped mass of shadows swiftly began to pass through the park. At first, Roman ignored it, figuring it was just some normal person taking a shortcut, but he was startled when the figure moved closer and under a streetlight and the shadows remained just as thick as they had been in the dark.

It took Roman an embarrassingly long time to figure out who he was seeing. Though, to be fair to him, he was not exactly expecting to see his old nemesis taking a stroll through the park.

Yet there was no question in Roman’s mind as he stood up and started following the figure that he was looking at Shadow Caster. Roman had looked into Shadow Caster’s power after he’d first shown up on the scene 5 years ago, before Roman had even met him face to face. It was something he still did to this day when a new player appeared. He always wanted a leg up on the new villain in case he ever came face to face with them.

Shadow Caster’s powers were unique. Roman had not been able to find any accounts of someone using a shadow manipulation power other than him. Usually even with rare powers you could find something similar being used by someone, but Shadow Caster’s powers simply didn’t exist in any record Roman could find.

Yet he and his power had disappeared, seemingly for good, 3 years ago. It wasn’t strange for villains, heroes, and vigilantes to stop after a certain amount of time; most didn’t last more than a year or two. Bluebird and Deceit were exceptions to this rule. Roman himself was nearing the 5-year mark of being a hero and people were starting to take note that he might be planning to actually stick around.

Shadow Caster hadn’t left like that. He hadn’t mysteriously disappeared back into the darkness he’d come from. He'd been shot in full view of the city cameras. The last anyone had seen of him, Bluebird had been flying away with him in his arms.

It had sparked a lot of media attention and rumors. Most people had assumed he’d died; some people had assumed he’d been silently turned over to the authorities, though Roman knew for sure that had not been the case. Bluebird had come out a few months later and said the man was alive and recovering but wouldn’t be coming back onto the superhero/villain scene. He’d refused to say why. It had spurned a bit of conversation in the public, but Bluebird had ignored all of the questions posed to him about the issue. Most people trusted Bluebird enough to eventually let it go, though the question of where Shadow Caster was still cropped up every so often.

Roman hadn’t expected to ever get the answer to that question, let alone for that answer to be right here, right now.

So, Roman followed him silently out of the park and onto the mostly abandoned city streets. To his surprise, the man slowed after a while and looked around, almost like he could tell someone was following him. He turned back around and continued walking but was still going much slower and seemed twitchy. Roman decided Shadow Caster probably wasn’t going to lead him anywhere important if the villain was being this twitchy. So, Roman chose to reveal himself.

“Where did you come from?” Roman asked, making himself suddenly perceivable.

He was entertained for the first half a second by the way the man jumped and whipped around to face him. During the second half of that second, Roman was suddenly grabbed by surprisingly solid shadows and lifted off the ground. What was even more surprising was the sudden burst of light that lit up the fingertips of the man and Roman’s masked face, but nothing else.

…When did Shadow Caster get light manipulation powers? What?

After blinking, Roman took a moment to study him. The shadows still obscured his entire face despite the new light, but Roman could make out the folds of thick black fabric on his arms and what looked like jeans. He also seemed… taller? It was always hard to tell the man’s dimensions with his shadows constantly flowing every which way around him, but Roman had been up close with him in fights before and he’d always been rather short. Perhaps it was just different shoes.

“Prince?” Shadow Caster asked after a moment. His voice was different too, Roman thought. Though in truth Shadow Caster had always been rather quiet… except for when he was telling Roman to ‘fuck off.’ Speaking of, there was a strange lack of animosity in his voice considering the last time they’d seen one another, they’d been wrestling in a sand pit on a playground. Roman hadn’t gotten the sand out of his costume for months. Then again, that had been 3 years ago.

“Release me, fiend,” Roman demanded.

Shadow Caster cocked his shadow-cloaked head to the side, and the shadows slithered a bit around his waist like particularly chilly snakes. “Why?”

Roman jerked his arm with all of the strength he could muster, but the shadows simply moved with him, letting him punch the air like an idiot but not get down or anywhere near Shadow Caster. They didn’t pull taunt even when he started pulling at them and squirming with all of his might.

“Are you finished?” Shadow Caster asked after a minute.

“What the hell even is this stuff?” Roman asked. “It’s cold!”

“Want me to set you on fire?” he offered, snapping his fingers and making a flame appear for a moment.

“You have shadow manipulation, light manipulation, and fire-starting powers now?” Roman asked.

“I’m a prodigy,” he replied lazily.

“You’re not a prodigy; I’m a prodigy!”

“Say that again when your feet are on the ground.”

“Say that again when my fist hits your face.” Roman stuck out his tongue.

Shadow Caster let the shadows around his lips disperse enough so Roman could see him stick his tongue out at Roman in return. Roman stuck his tongue out harder.

Shadow Caster had the audacity to scoff. “Welp, anyway,” he drawled. “This has been fun, but I’m actually in the middle of something right now. So, see you later.” He gave Roman a two-finger salute and turned to walk away.

“You’re just going to leave me hanging in mid-air?!” Roman asked, aghast.

He waved him off over his shoulder. “They’ll fade once I’m out of range.”

“Villain,” Roman spat, though even he could acknowledge that the insult was just out of his own pettiness. The venom in his tone had more to do with keeping up appearances as Prince than any actual strong ire. Keeping him restrained until Shadow Caster was gone wasn’t exactly the epitome of evil. Yet, something about the word did make the man pause.

“I’m not actually,” he said and turned back to look at Roman. “Not tonight especially.”

“What?” Roman asked. After a couple more seconds of consideration, Shadow Caster slowly lowered Roman to his feet and the shadows retreated. Roman watched him in confusion.

“I’m not a villain anymore,” he said, “and I’m also not stupid.” He squared his shoulders, and he was… he was definitely taller, wasn’t he? “You’re allies with Bluebird, and I need all of the help I can get tonight.”

The Prince part of Roman wanted to scoff at the idea of helping Shadow Caster of all people, but Prince wasn’t all he was, and the way Shadow Caster said it gave Roman pause. The fact that he was here at all after 3 years gave Roman pause. The fact that the reason he was out was connected with Bluebird, who was the last person seen with him, gave Roman pause.

“What happened?” Roman asked.

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Part 4

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

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