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delicatebluebirdruins · 1 year

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Mia and Alan

yes I am on this train again. it also felt prudent to remind people I am not making it up when I say of the short list of people we have working for the connections Mia is the only one alive (that list will be at the end of the post under the read more)

this got so long I am so sorry

cutscenes dire state of affairs and death of a friend

Mia Winters: "Alan, you're getting worse."

Alan Droney: "She must have infected me during the attack. And I'm too far gone anyway. But it serves me right. It's my fault she got out."

Mia: "Yeah, it is your fault. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you die."

Alan: "She didn't attack you?"

Mia: "It's part of her imprinting protocol. I can't believe this is happening."

Alan: "Here, take it. It has her tissue samples. You find her—you fix this."

Mia: "OK, Evie. Where are you?"

I always end up wondering about what actually happened with the attack and how long it was from then to this cutscene and of course I make it a different colour as people forget Alan a lot and place the blame solely on Mia for the outbreak

the bit about the imprinting protocol makes me sad for Evie but also very curious about imprinting in a actual sense of the word (and not what twilight makes it out to be) quick google has imprinting down as "In psychology and ethology, imprinting is any kind of phase-sensitive learning that is rapid and apparently independent of the consequences of behaviour. Imprinting is hypothesized to have a critical period." this kind of makes me wonder when this happens to Mia and if Evie imprinted on someone else?

Mia Winters: "How did you get here?"

Alan Droney: "Where's Evie?"

Mia: "She's out of control. Without the treatments, she's deteriorating."

Alan: "Well, it's a good thing I'm already dying."

Mia: "Don't say that."

Alan: "She trusts you. That little bitch, she never—No, Evie, I—Evie—I didn't mean to call you that, Evie."

Mia: "Alan, listen! She's trying to take control. You have to fight her. Eveline, stop! Stop right now!"

Alan: "Don't touch me!"

we already know why I highlighted the part about the treatments

and of couse Mia gets directly infected by Evie when she reached out to support Alan

file: orders found in 2nd deck safe room of the annabelle

Special Operations Division Director Alan Droney and Caretaker Mia Winters

Recent reports suggest that if Eveline remains at her current location, she is at a high risk of being stolen by opposing organizations. Your orders, therefore, are to transfer Eveline to our Central American branch for safe keeping until further notice. During transfer, be sure to adhere to the following protocols: Act as parental guardians for Eveline at all times to avoid suspicion. Manage Eveline's vitals via the Genome Codex provided. If the mission s compromised beyond reconciliation, dispose of Eveline.

director dĭ-rĕk′tər, dī- One that supervises, controls, or manages.

as in Alan in Mia's boss she answers to him. what i do wonder though is if he is the boss of the whole E series or just a specific branch of caretaking

caretaker kâr′tā″kər One that is employed to look after or take charge of goods, property, or a person; a custodian. One that temporarily performs the duties of an office. One who takes care of something.

so I have said before and I'll repeat myself until the end of days possibly at the connections sending 2 TWO people to transport Evie who is

very powerful

easily unstable: true we don't know how long they were traveling for or planning to travel for but they still sent her without treatments to keep Evie stable

addition: I got curious and looked at other files for the wrecked ship and Jim's letter makes me want to scream a bit

"Dear Janet, Hey, how's it going? I guess half a year or so will have passed by the time you get this letter. Life is so boring here. Day after day, just the same old sea. Although there is one thing that's different. This time we have some passengers sailing with us, which hardly ever happens. It's a couple with a young girl. I think they're distant relatives of the captain. Imagine, traveling on a tanker instead of a passenger ship. They must be hard up! I tried talking to the little girl earlier and her dad shot me this nasty look. What's he so worried about? Now that I think of it, the captian said he didn't even have any relatives... Maybe I'm overthinking this. I miss you. Love, Jim"

empahsis mine. So I was toying with the idea that the connections wanted Evie to get out and do what she did and it kinda fits but then I read the letter and its kinda more solidfied in my mind. My other reasoning for it is them getting into contact with Lucas in early 2015 and giving him the means to cure himself and his ongoing updates on what Evie is doing (files Lucas email salt mine, Evie observation log)

not sure which type of ship the Annabelle (looks wise) is but for tankers the average speed is 13- 17 knots bulk carries 13- 15 knots

so according to metric conversion

13 knots = 14mph/24 kph; 14 knots= 16 mph/25 kph; 15 knots= 17 mph/ 27kph; 16 knots= 18 mph/ 19 kph; 17 knots= 19 mph/ 31 kph

its not really that fast in the grand scheme of things is it

another thing I wondered about is how many crew members where there outside of the named ones from the crew members register and Giovannis will but that's a thought for another time i think and more speculation under the cut

and looking at loving message again "Oh! Good news! I'm gonna be coming home soon! Yay! I cannot wait to be done with this babysitting job—And come home to my loving husband"

I wonder was Mia going to replaced? because Jims letter suggests its not gonna be a short journey. We don't know where they coming from on where Evie was originally based nor where she was going outside of "central america" but I was curious to look about and see distances for things and well after looking for spots along the coast going a little farther away from LA then I wanted I found a small place called Conception and I looked it up and the first result?

image id: screenshot from indeed of a job offering from a company called conception with the tag line "turning stem cells into human eggs." and the tags "biotechnology research" which is highlighted end id

and i promptly lost interest of doing that research and had to take a minute to scream

connections members list

(adding this because I can but I still don’t know if i count it or not) Brandon Bailey founder of the connections we only find out about him as extra file you can buy in RE8 (Baker Incident Report written by Zoe part of the trauma pack dlc it’s a paid add on and not really part of the game imo)

Mia Winters: Caretaker of Eveline

Alan Drooney: Caretaker of Eveline/ Director, Dead

Miranda: Researcher dead

Lucas Baker: Researcher, made into head researcher, double agent (selling the data to a unknown third party) dead

#resident evil #mia winters #resident evil 7 #ethan winters #alan droney #I went into way too way much effort for this #but I enjoyed the googling #I cannot stress enough mia antis I will block on sight

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the-ratronaut · 5 months

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Okay, so I just wanna ramble about some Alan Wake stuff. Particularly, what the fuck is going on with the character Thomas Zane and my theory on it. Fair warning, this has spoilers and also I am not completely done with my playthrough of AW2's final draft. I got a couple more chapters to go so if anything happens in the last few that makes me look stupid here that's my own fault for playing slowly.

This is a long post, so I'll keep it under a cut.

Okay, so what the fuck is going on with Zane? Every time he appears Tom has been radically different. We have the poet Tom from the original game, the clone of Alan from Control and the wild filmmaking auteur from 2. The games provide the explainations for Tom's changing background by saying the poet was a fictional character made up by the filmmaker Tom that he was taking the role of... but is that true? Personally, I think it is not, or at least was no, true.

There are multiple characters who still remember the poet and his works, Alan, Jesse Faden and Cynthia Weaver in particular. Now, I can't say exactly why that is with any authority, but I have a guess. All three of those people have something in common, they are deeply connected to the paranatural. Alan for obvious reasons, Jesse due to her connection to Polaris and Cynthia due to her connection to both the clicker, the angel lamp and Zane as an entity.

Now why does that matter? Simple, Saga Anderson and the Anderson brothers already showed in AW2 that due to their paranatural abilities as seers they are able to shrug off the changes in reality brought on by the Dark Place. Now we can't say for sure if this is true for all parautilitarians, we can say that there is precedence for it. If that fact applies to the three listed above, we can make an assumption about the truth about Zane.

If my leaps in logic are actually sound, then that implies that the original Zane was not a filmmaker, but was in fact a poet. It brings into question the current Zane. It implies that there must have been a shift in reality that changed Zane into a filmmaker. Now I can't say why this happened, there's a lot of failed plans that Alan had in the Dark Place and it could've been the result of one of those that brought about the current Zane... but that still doesn't explain everything, does it?

There was an ARG that Sam Lake put on after AW1 that centered around a blog called "This House of Dreams". It was about a woman moving into a house in a town called Ordinary (This happening 10 years after the Ordinary AWE). There's a lot going on in this blog but to sum it up she finds a shoebox full of poems by Zane and receives dreams explaining things further seemingly from Zane. The last of those dreams implying that the Zane we see in AW1 is not the original Zane, but a "bright presence" who Zane gave his body to as he dived into the Dark Place, using his last poem to create a safe haven within it for himself and the original Barbara Jagger.

So, that gives us a fourth Zane to account for, while also changing what we know about the Zanes we've already seen. This also implies that the Zane we know from AW1 was probably also a creation of Alan's as his fate doesn't match the one from This House of Dreams. It also solidifies the idea that the original Zane was not a filmmaker, as we see even more of his work. This all together means that no Zane we've met in a game has been unaltered by the story.

Not, what do I think this all means? I think there are at least two, but probably three separate Zanes. The solid two are the Poet who left this reality, and the Bright Presence who took Zane's form and is the one we know from AW1. Looking at the filmmaker Zane is where this gets weird. I believe one of two things is true. Either they are still the Bright Presence but they've been so heavily edited by Alan's writing that they are unrecognizable. Or they are a third entity that at some point latched onto Alan's writing for their own goals. If AW2 Zane is still the bright presence, it wouldn't explain the hostility and desperation he showed towards Alan, not unless Alan's rewrites really did change it to something very different from the benevolent diving suited entity in AW1. If it's a different being entirely, that begs the question of what the hell happened to the bright presence in the last 13 years. Not to mention why is the Control Zane so identical to Wake? Is that one some sort of form of the filmmaker that's still a WIP that Alan is writing? One where the details still needed to be filled out?

#alan wake spoilers #alan wake 2 spoilers #my stupid theories #God this is a long post #This is all ignoring the related question of what the fuck is going on with Scratch which is a lot simpler in my mind #I think there are two separate “Scratches”#The one from AW1 who was their own dark entity and died in AN and the current who is just the Dark Presence #Thomas Zane #Sorry if this is a bit incomprehensible I'm kinda shit at laying this kinda stuff out in text

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gumnut-logic · 1 year

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Anna was so deep in thought while jogging, she didn’t even see the person she collided with until she did.

“Oh, god, I am so sorry.” Neither of them had fallen, but she had hit hard.

Taking a step back she realised she had nearly bowled over Gordon Tracy.

“Hey, Ms K!”

“Gordon?” Her muscles sung with blood flow, her chest panting just enough to know she was getting the exercise level she needed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“Eh, my fault, too. Was thinking. How are you doing?”

A blink. “I’m good. How is Alan?”

“Sporting one hell of a shiner. He has documented it extensively.”

“Documented?”

“Well, there comes a time in a boy’s life where he earns his first shiner...”

“Gordon!”

“What?”

Her flat-eyed glare communicated enough. He had a lot of experience reading it.

“Hey, what did I do?”

“I can guess.”

He grinned with just enough mischief to know that he had probably convinced Alan that a black eye was a medal of honour or some such.

“You are incorrigible.”

That just made his grin widen. “Yeah. I am.”

He was wearing the ever-predictable tracksuit and carrying a bag no doubt full of swimwear and accessories. “How goes the training?”

“Perfectly. Your excellent Aotearoa has world class training facilities just a few miles thataway and I am making extensive use of them.”

“So, you are staying here with Mr Kyrano?”

“Kyrano? Yeah, me, Tin and Allie hang together when Scott, Virg and Johnny are being all heroic. Kyrano puts up with us.” He frowned. “Have you met Kyrano? He’s not one for easy introduction.”

She could agree with that.

“Yes, he appeared at the school after the altercation between your brothers and Mr MacIntyre.”

Gordon grunted at that.

“How’s Virgil?”

“Making me glad I’m on this Island and not that one.”

Her query must have appeared on her face because he followed up that statement immediately. “Virgil hates being grounded and grounded he is. Which means he is a cranky ass. John’s had to come down to assist Scott and isn’t any happier. Scott’s worried about Virgil, Alan and now John as well because...” A frown. “...well, because he is John and not Virgil, I guess. But in any case, Tracy Island is Cranky Island and I’m quite happy to be here, thank you very much.”

Blink. “So, Alan is on the Island.”

“Yep, leaving me and Tin to some blissful peace and quiet.” Gordon appeared very happy about that.

She had no idea who Tin was and she wasn’t going to ask.

“If you see any of them, give them my best. I’m looking forward to having Alan back in class.”

“Sure, will do. And same to you Ms K.” Gordon’s grin was truly an infectious thing.

“Thank you, Gordon.”

His grin just got wider as he turned to resume his walk towards that house. “Nice seeing you again.” He spun and started walking backwards. She suddenly had waggly finger guns waving at her. “You know, don’t be a stranger. You were one of the cool ones.” A pause punctuated by distracted finger firearms. “You know what, you should ask Virg to show you some of his fireworks. That would help him out of his grump and add a whole new dimension to science class.”

She smiled. “We’ve already done that component for this year, Gordon. Alan showed me the recording of you running down the beach with your pants on fire.”

The finger guns froze. “He did?” He eyed her. “You or the whole class?”

Her smile split into a grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

His flat eyed glare showed that she had managed to teach him at least something at some point. “I guess he still has one eye available.”

“Gordon.” His name was pure warning.

“I’m kidding.”

“You better be.”

“Hmph.”

She may have to email Alan a heads up.

“Okay then, invite Virg in to discuss his eco-internal combustion engine. The grease monkey would love it.” His eyes widened. “Or the theory of clockwork. Big bro is a secret steampunk. Give him some cogs and gears and he’ll play all day. All that engineering design stuff is his jam.”

“Because he’s an engineer?”

“Well, yeah, but mostly because he could do with a distraction.”

“He’s injured.”

“One broken rib.”

“Isn’t one enough?”

Gordon shrugged. “Not enough to stop him from driving everyone up the wall.”

“He was protecting your brother.”

“Of course, he was. And now he is doing his best to convince Scott that that life is no longer worth living.”

“Gordon...”

“Hey, it’s only a suggestion. Get him out of our hair, give you a free demonstration. He even has a clockwork chicken.”

“A clockwork chicken?”

“Yeah, he said he needed something to cross the road.” Gordon’s grin was massive.

Anna just stared at him.

“What?” All grinning innocence.

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you.”

His grin just got wider.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #anna kent #nuttyfic reblog #I'm reading this one now #I love Gordy #I really do #was trying to get to sleep during yet another migraine #failed miserably #consequently feel miserable #but sunshine boy :D

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vigilantetendencies · 3 years

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Not Selfish

Author’s Note; This addition to the story took me a loooong time to try and work out the plot. I hope this does the story justice! Feedback is always appreciated.

Characters: Enzo “Nighthawk” Ricci, Alan Harper, Storm Vane

Warnings: Hinted spice, swears, etc.

The stacks of information never seemed to end, not that Alan was complaining. The steady stream of corrupt behavior to expose meant that Alan had a steady income as well- for the first time in a long time. He didn't dare to stop working, hardly able to enjoy the fruits of his labor while he was churning out articles. He would enter the office early in the day and leave late at night, bags under his eyes and sunlight gone before he’d even gotten to see it.

“Hey, Alan!” He paused as he exited the building, glancing over at one of the newscasters (and an old friend) Storm, waiting by a car. “Hey man, you look like you could use a drink. Me and the group from meteorology are going out for a few rounds on the big guy. You should come with!” Alan saw a wide smile plastered on Storm’s face, unable to help his own face from breaking out into a grin.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He followed Storm to one of the cars they were taking and slid into a seat, feeling slightly out of place but...free drinks sounded great.

It wasn’t long before he was tipsy and laughing at a dumb joke one of the others had made, cheeks red and soul light. When was the last time he felt so...at peace? Certainly it had been long before that ass hole Ricci had come around. He gave in to the pressure of shots, one of the small glasses in front of him before he could really object. No sense in wasting it, right? He and the others downed their respective shots and he watched the others’ faces contort in agony.

“This shit burns!”

“Harper didn’t even bat an eye, what a god!” He laughed along with them, stopping only to look at his phone when it buzzed in his pocket.

[Unknown Number: Too busy partying to call?]

He had a feeling he knew who it was.

“I need to take this,” He told the others, words slurred slightly as he got up from the table.

“C’monnnn,” one of the girls whined. “All you do is work, Alan!”

“It’ll just be a minute, promise.” He left the room, to find a secluded, private one in the back.

“I’ll go make sure he isn’t too long,” Storm told them, winking at the girl. “Someone’s gotta keep him in check, you know.” He followed Alan, rounding the corner as he dialed something into his phone. “Hey.”

Alan looked at him like a deer in the headlights, not having made the call yet.

“We came out for drinks, put it away, Alan.” Storm grabbed his phone, towering over him.

“I didn’t mean to make you guys upset, it’s just-” It’s just what? Enzo “Nighthawk” Ricci, the villain that owned the town? That was going to go over well.

“Is it your boyfriend?”

Alan’s heart nearly stopped.

“My-What? I don’t have a boyfriend,” He insisted, puzzled.

“I guess I wouldn’t know that because you’ve had your nose constantly in your work lately,” Storm stated, almost with...jealousy? “Thought you had some love bites all over your neck a few weeks ago. Must have been mistaken.”

The way he said that sure didn’t sound like a mild observation. It sounded like an accusation.

“I had a run in with a lead. Didn’t like me being there, they threw me around a bit-” Alan’s phone buzzed in Storm’s hand.

[Unknown Number: I’m coming to find you if you don’t call soon.]

“Hey, don’t read my texts,” Alan snapped, reaching for his phone and stumbling into Storm. Storm only held the phone higher, eyes narrowed as he held up his drunk companion. Briefly Alan noted that Storm was not at all as drunk as he had seemed in the bar area- and Alan was...hardly able to keep himself upright, let alone get his phone back.

“Not a boyfriend, huh? Girlfriend? One night stand?” Storm continued to glare down at Alan who was having a hard time understanding the line of questions. “A few weeks ago I was the only person worth all of this dedication. You and I went out for drinks all the time, we worked on segments and articles together… And I don’t like losing you to someone else.”

“Losing...me?” There was movement- He was moving- Pushed into one of the booths in the dimly lit back room. He blinked up at Storm who was already halfway over him, knee between his legs.

“I don’t know who’s coming to find you but I hope they like the show.”

His phone was forgotten, Storm shoving him down and jamming his tongue into his mouth. Too reminiscent of Ricci, yet there was a gentleness behind Storm’s actions- Actual consideration. And even if this had been a totally unwarranted ordeal in the beginning the alcohol was clouding Alan’s judgement and he was moaning into the kiss. His arms wrapped around Storm’s shoulders as he arched upward, pressing his groin to Storm’s in need---

"I'd hate to interrupt, but I need the reporter that’s currently grinding on you,” a low and all too familiar voice demanded, jarring Alan out of his haze. He pushed Storm away, the man only sitting back, still straddling Alan whose eyes were wide as he looked past him at none other than Enzo.

The large man strode over and easily plucked Storm off of Alan, throwing the reporter over his shoulder. "Actually...I didn't hate that at all. Keep your hands on your own property, kid."

Storm watched as Enzo sauntered right back out the way he entered, Alan lifting his head for his bleary eyes to meet his gaze.

"You didn't fucking buy me," Alan yelled in irritation, tearing away from Storm's eyes.

"No, you gave yourself to me willingly," Enzo snapped back, then loud enough for Storm to hear he added, "Or was you begging me to fuck you just tactile self preservation?"

Storm felt anger swirl in his gut as he watched the two exit the bar, mood sour as he came back to the table.

"Hey, where's Alan?"

"He's looking into a lead," Storm lied.

---

Alan made a pained noise as he was quite literally thrown into Enzo's car, sprawled out in the back seat.

"Do you mind?" Alan spat, scrambling to sit up while Enzo slid in beside him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Kidnapping you. And what were you doing?" Enzo was calm, just as he was last time. He hardly even spared Alan a glance, pressing a cigarette to his lips.

"I was out getting drinks-"

"Ah, is that what that was?" Alan floundered.

"That- that wasn't supposed to happen," he confessed awkwardly. "Why does it matter to you-?” He could see Enzo looking at him out of the corner of his eye and he swallowed hard. He was in for a world of hurt, wasn’t he?

One car ride and one henchmen-led walk later Alan was shoved into the massive chair behind Enzo’s desk, gripping the armrests to try and correct the way he landed.

“Where is your place?” Enzo towered over him, looking down at him like he was nothing. “Where is your place, Alan Harper?”

He was towering over him, asking him questions they both knew the answers to.

“Beneath you,” Alan answered finally, his prior lesson from Enzo not forgotten.

“Who owns you?”

“You do.” Enzo’s glower worsened. “You do, Enzo. I belong to you.”

“Then what was that?” Each word was said with such conviction, demanding a suitable answer.

Alan opened his mouth to respond and closed it, the alcohol long worn off and mind dull. He didn’t have any funny quips.

“Dumb. It was dumb.” Truth be told, he didn’t think that Enzo was ever going to come find him again, but that didn’t play into what happened. He couldn’t help that Storm was a close and trusted friend, though it was his own fault for drinking enough to stop caring about what he was doing and where. As a reporter he knew that appearances were everything.

“And what punishment do you think that deserves?”

He had no response, cowering back in the chair.

“Or, do you think that your friend deserves to be punished for taking advantage of you like that?”

“No! I drank too much, I let myself get carried away, that isn’t his fault-!”

Enzo bent down to meet Alan’s gaze finally, emotionless as he looked his little reporter over.

“I value you for your willingness to tell the truth, Alan Harper. I let you live because you’re witty and I found you again because you’re cute. But if you lie to me I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head.” He grabbed Alan’s chin, eyes harder than before. “You wanted him to fuck you, didn’t you?” Alan felt a cold sweat break out over his body; this question was a death sentence. But as usual he prided himself on being blunt and honest.

“Yes,” he answered truthfully and Enzo let go of him roughly, turning and heading to the door of the office. “Wait!” Alan rushed to get out of the chair, running after Enzo with the intention of catching him- stopping him- but his henchmen grabbed Alan’s arms, holding him back. “Where are you going!?” The henchmen began to drag Alan away as Enzo exited the building all together.

It felt like a thousand eternities that Alan was stuck in the same bedroom as last time he was here, pacing from wall to wall until someone came to release him.

“Dinner is ready,” the woman told him, making him sputter.

“I’ve been waiting for dinner? Dinner!? That’s it!?” She said nothing, gesturing for Alan to follow her down the hall. He did so, knowing full well that not complying could mean a whole lot worse than...last time.

He entered the dining room and stopped dead, eyes wide as he found Enzo sitting across from Storm.

“Sit,” Enzo instructed without looking at him, pulling the chair directly next to himself out. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” he added before Alan could even open his mouth. Alan sat down, keeping his eyes on the table as food was set in front of him.

“I appreciate the fancy food and all of that, but what’s the deal?” Storm asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I’m not stupid, you brought me here because you’re mad that I was trying to get in his pants. You didn’t blackmail me into coming here to ask me what my favorite color is. Is this a hit?”

“That wouldn’t make Alan here very happy.” Both Alan and Storm looked at Enzo in surprise. “I don’t suppose paying you off will work?”

“Paying him off-?” Alan repeated. “Paying him off for what!?”

“Not a chance,” Storm responded immediately, as if there was some prior conversation that Alan hadn’t been aware of. The two other men were having an intense stare down, and Alan was not sure he even cared to try and understand at this point. He opted instead to eat, avoiding looking at either one of them. He was sure there were some strong glares before the two of them also began to eat, making for the most awkward yet astounding dinner that Alan had ever had the pleasure to take part in.

The end was near, he hoped, as their plates were cleared and Enzo leaned forward onto the table.

“I’m not giving you permission to take him away,” Enzo stated boldly. “But I’m not a selfish man.” That last statement made Alan’s stomach flip. What was it supposed to mean-?

“I tend to believe I’m not selfish, either,” Storm added, and Alan felt those hazy eyes on him. “And I know that he isn’t exactly hard to convince.”

Wait-

Alan looked up.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Enzo agreed. “Then I think we have understanding.” Suddenly Storm was at Alan’s side, pushing his chair back.

“I think we do.” It felt like Alan had been thrown to the wolves, hungry eyes on him as he looked up at Storm then Enzo.

Questions rose to his mind but he found them drowned out when Storm grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a rough kiss as Enzo sat back, sipping on whiskey as he watched Storm dominate the kiss, Alan whimpering at the force of it.

Alan reacted to the means which Enzo used against him- reacted to being owned, controlled, and utterly helpless. It was interesting to see how he reacted to Storm, already so pent up yet so obedient still to Enzo as he pulled away when Storm broke the kiss to breathe, looking at Enzo as if to gauge what his punishment would be.

"Don't worry, I'll take my turn after."

And that was a promise.

Thanks for reading! Again, I’m open to requests and continuations of everything. If I’ve told you I’ll continue something then don’t you worry, I’ll get to it soon! I struggled a little today to keep up with what I wanted to produce and I intended to work on so much more than this.

If you’re interested in catching up with my other stories I have a master list here.

If you’re feeling generous you can Buy Me a Coffee; I’d be so grateful, but there is absolutely no pressure. My content and my characters are free to enjoy!

Do you have a request you want filled? Want a prompt answered? Want a snippet? I’m open to all requests assuming they follow the general idea of “Bad guy vs good guy.”

#hero #heroes #hero x villain #villain #villains #mafia #reporter #reporter x villain #villain x reporter #writing #writeblr #story #stories #superhero #supervillain #OC #original characer

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enbies-and-felonies · 3 years

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Only Then I am Human / Only Then I am Clean

(AO3 link)

@jatp-rules-my-life, this is your fault (based on this post)

Summary: Alex listens to 'Take Me to Church' by Hozier and maybe it affects him in a way he wasn't prepared for, maybe it just let's him heal a little bit.

warnings for homophobia and religious themes

taglist, just ask to be added or removed (i know it's not my normal work but,, yeah): @barrel-of-cat-mituna @completekeefitztrash @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @lemontarto @hershis-kotlc @genesiscaveat @everything-else-and-mars @juline-dizznee @chaotic-basics @an-absolute-travesty @classyfunnyquotesmuffin7 @smolanxiouscatvoids @itstiger720 @introvertedscarecrow @sunset-telepath @an-idiot-in-a-trenchcoat @cowboypossume @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @sofia-not-sophie @fire-sapphics @dr-alan-grant @real-smooth @juline-dizznee

The first time Alex heard 'Take Me to Church' he was on the verge of dozing off, which was an interesting feeling as a ghost, like he was a boat tethered to a dock and he might drift away if he fell asleep for too long. The evening sun was casting lazy beams through the windows of Julie's garage, and he smiled as the warmth hit his face, causing his eyelids to droop lower. At least as a ghost, he could still enjoy some of the simpler things in life.

An old radio crackled on the little table nearby, playing songs Alex had never heard before. He enjoyed a few of them, but others he rolled his eyes at. Idly, he wondered if Reggie and Luke were having fun with Julie; She had taken them on a trip to see some sights, but Alex had opted to stay home, feeling listless, and decided to catch up on whatever new tunes had came out since he was alive.

He bopped his head slightly to 'Bad Liar' and hummed a bit to 'Counting Stars'. He had missed out on a lot of good songs. Yawning, he stretched and settled deeper into the couch, giving a contented sigh as the next song started playing, a strong piano coming in and setting the tone.

Alex liked the man's voice, and he raised an eyebrow at the lyrics.

"-She's the giggle at a funeral / Knows everybody's disapproval / I should've worshipped her sooner."

He sat up and cocked his head by a margin, feeling a tiny, guilty thrill at the way his lips quirked at the lyrics. There was a forbidden excitement that came from it's gentle blasphemy.

"Every Sunday's gettin' more bleak / A fresh poison each week."

His heart twinged. A choir, a pulpit, fire-and-brimstone preaching, he was just a kid-

"We were born sick / You heard them say it."

He sucked in a breath and his eyes flew open, throat tightening like a noose, trapping his breath like a fluttering bird in his lungs.

~~~

"This Sunday we will be touching upon the topic of a Biblical marriage!" The preacher's voice booms across the congregation, and fourteen year-old Alex's stomach sinks as he tries to slouch further down in the pew, as if he could just slip low enough that the words won't catch in his heart and weigh him down like so many stones. He briefly thinks about the millstone the preacher once mentioned. He tried to remember the context, but the only thing he comes up with is that it was for people who sinned. He gulped.

"Now, 'what exactly is Biblical marriage?' you might be asking yourself! Biblical marriage is a holy union between one man, and one woman-"

Pastor James' voice carries on, and Alex does his best to let the words pass through his ears without hearing them, the rocks weighing him down turning to boulders. His stomach turns.

"-now, the men gotta love their wives!! Just like Christ loves the church, and cares for her. Marriage is a wonderful blessing, the greatest blessing we could ever experience in fact! It is perhaps the second greatest gift God has given to humans, and as such we must respect it.

"There are many ways you can disrespect the holy marriage bed. Divorce of course is one of them. In fact, in Matthew chapter nineteen, verses one through eight-"

Alex tries to tune him out harder, knowing what's eventually coming and yet still hoping to avoid it. He counts the number of stained-glass windows -twelve without turning to either side, thirty-six if he rotates all the way- and taps his fingers on his leg to the cadence of Pastor James' words.

One, two, three, four. One and two, and three, and four-

He makes increasingly faster and more intricate beats, imagining drumsticks in his hands, base-drum pedal beneath his foot.

One and two-o-o, and four and, one and two and three-e, four-

His fingers are pattering rapidly, and he forces himself to swallow, trying to remember not to bounce his leg, trying not to distract his mom and dad, trying not to dwell on the words he can't avoid, trying not to scratch at his wrist, trying-

He can't breathe. He's trying to calm himself down but his fingers aren't a drumset and he can't play away the sin that coats his soul and he's just a kid but he can't breathe, he can't-

"And that leaves us with those who have disrespected the sacred act of marriage by letting themselves be lost in sexual perversion. I am, of course, referring to those disgusting individuals who have chosen to live the transsexual and homosexual lifestyles. People like these were born sick."

Alex's hands quit their anxious movement. He's completely still. He was born sick.

He was born sick.

~~~

"The only heaving I'll be sent to / Is when I'm alone with you."

And he started breathing again.

"I was born sick, but I love it / Command me to be well / A-a-a-amen amen amen"

Air was rushing back into his lungs and maybe it was the way reliving that memory gave him closure, but it felt like the song was purging the preacher's burning words from where they'd branded his heart with wounds he never thought would scar-over.

Alex felt his eyes close again, letting the lyrics and the lilt of the man's voice wash over him in a cleansing baptism. His fingers began pattering against his lap, joining in with the beat, weaving him together with the music, becoming one with it.

"We've a lot of starving faithful."

He thought of himself when he was younger, sitting in church week after week begging God to fix him. He thought about the girl who bowed her head at the foot of the altar the Sunday after a lesbian couple was attacked, he thought of the way her fingers linked together like someone else's hand used to hold them, and he thought of the way she cried: silent, tears streaming down like shooting stars, her lips whispering unspoken prayers.

This song was for him, he realized. It was for him, and every moment he cried himself to sleep under his parents roof, thinking he was dirty, thinking he didn't have God's love, didn't have God's forgiveness.

It was for every time a prayer caught in his throat like a trapped butterfly, the prayers he could never bring himself to say because he was 'unworthy'.

"I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife / Offer me that deathless death / Oh good God, let me give you my life"

The lyrics seeped under his skin, replacing the lies that he had believed over the years. The lies about himself, about his faith, about his gayness-

Washed away like a world-destroying flood.

Because this song? This song was for every cold-shoulder from his parents instead of a warm hug, and it was for every time he had to watch him mom recoil from his touch, every time his father didn't quite meet his eye.

"There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin."

The first tear slipped past his eyelashes, and he heaved a shuddering sigh.

"Only then I am human / Only then I am clean."

He cried, but there was a smile on his face.

~~~

When Julie and the boys got back, the radio was long silent, but Alex still sat on the couch, tear-tracks on his cheeks and a relieved smile on his face.

He had sat there a long time, reliving moments in his life, and then letting them go, letting them be washed away. He was quiet when he was surrounded by the rest of Sunset Curve, letting himself be held by them; Julie comfortingly running her fingers through his hair, Reggie linking their fingers together and side-hugging him, and Luke tugging him halfway onto his lap. They were his family, and they loved him.

"You okay, Lex?"

Alex took a deep, slow breath, letting himself take in each of their faces, and he gave a small smile.

"Yeah, I really am."

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sepialunaris · 3 years

Text

Theorizing Amelia and One's backstory based on implicit storytelling

Hmmm infinity train possibly not getting a continuation got me thinking more about Amelia and One-One's implicit story throughout the books. Since the train in Book 4 still works on One's "in a literal sense [the passengers] are numbers to him" and "if they dont sort their problems they'll die here" ideal and not post-Tulip "every passenger's wellbeing and progress is important," the state of the train prior to Ryan and Min is a big mystery, and what specifically happens after to Amelia and One One is another mystery.

I saw @suppuration 's post (which unfortunately can't link since, mobile) about how Book 1 of Infinity Train is about One One experiencing and learning to act as a denizen for Tulip, and while he was mindwiped it must have a big impact to how he does his role as the conductor now and before, when he was just one entity.

Long analysis ahead

One = Simon

Book 4 One reminds me of... Simon. Simon "but you are not a person" Laurent. One is colder and more aloof towards passengers, and seeing them as just "numbers," which is similar to Simon's views at nulls and lack of respect of agency. While he got amnesia and his experience with Tulip made One-One realize his inactiveness has also hindered the purpose of the train as well as a sense of guilt on things that were not his fault (Amelia's cars in the train), he does strive to change, but Amelia still remembers and internalizes what she knows One was in the past, hence she still refers to his old name and had to read his instruction card to remind herself of his new ideals.

Moreover, Book 4 shows Stewards being in charge in train maintenance in the past. Reddit AMA said that in the present the Stewards are almost all destroyed in the coup besides the one Amelia outfitted with weaponry and One One used as transport in Book 2. Book 3 saw One One using humans like Amelia for maintenance, which shows that he is more willing to give agency to the passengers rather than lock them up in place while the Stewards do their jobs. So unlike Simon, there is growth.

Amelia = Hazel, but not really

One conforming to rigid power structure and not really considering anyone's agency like Simon and Pre-Hazel Grace makes Amelia seem like Hazel in this metaphor, which is appropriate that she is her 'clone' or imaginary child. And like Amelia entered One's and life resulting in his mysterious split, Hazel entered Simon and Grace's lives to split them (even if One One dont go separate ways like them, and stayed together) after she experience a personal loss that they caused or 'denied to unreverse' (in Amelia's case). Hazel made them both the chance to question, rethink, and restart their ideals but Simon didn't take it, while Amelia at first tried to give constructive feedback to One before executing the coup and also fell into One's problem of not recognizing others' agencies by 1) throwing away One One and possibly removing his memory 2) forcibly taking away the support system for the passengers to navigate their problems like Ryan and Min-Gi thinking its giving them agency to "individuate" and be on their own, when in the case of Ryan and Min it just reiterated their trauma.

Also her contradictory way of thinking is why in the end Amelia's belief of the other passenger's agency ends up being fallible and destroyed as she becomes more violating and just altogether doesn't want passengers to leave their cars. And I'm highkey convinced that the reason the Ghoms exist (but not in Book 4) is that she created them to prevent people from moving around freely, as there is no therapeutic reason for them to exist (that said the hand monster exists, but it is only in 1 car while Ghoms are numerous and everywhere in the wasteland, so this monster may explain One's aloofness to their wellbeing even further). She does have Ghom orb and used it in Atticus, so its really reasonable to think so. Plus it would be a logical thing that would add up to her numbers a lot and make Samantha the Cat dread her, yet still not make her numbers reach the top like Simon after directly trying to murder his friend.

Amelia's Loss

Though we're not sure because of how little screentime we have of them in Book 4, I do think Ryan and Min-Gi's attempt of staying together is a big foil too for Amelia's experience of abandonment, loss, yearning for the past, and loneliness. Therefore the Steward's first appearance was to reonnect the boys to their past by giving back their stuff, despite Amelia saying that she did that to "individuate" them (this may be directed for all the passengers but in this book's context it is about Min and Ryan's commitment to each other), and the second appearance Amelia specifically says "[they] are on their own." By the lens of Ryan and Min, Amelia is portrayed as a force that desires to separate them, not in a malicious nor personal manner, but maybe a projection of her own trauma of codependency with Alrick and not wanting the same to befall to Ryan and Min (it may also be jealousy but she hasn't shown any displeasure of that sort so it seems more like bad faith analysis) and the pther passengers. And in the end she releases everyone in the train from their 'dependency' by decomissioning the Stewards. Her actions, especially the former does have understandable motives and she isn't intending to harm anyone, but it happens anyway because in the end she disrespects their agency and pulled the whole train from under the rug.

Amelia = Lake & others

And the story of agency is central in Book 2, and how Lake fights for their recognition as a person and getting off from the train, to the point they have to confront One-One about it. It was the first time One One's imperfection is shown and how even now his standards for denizens has gotten better but not the best. Though he does end up respecting their agency and puts thought to it too. And a minor detail is that he mentions Atticus too in Book 2, meaning that he remembers him personally due to his experience as a denizen instead of just an instrument like in Book 4 (eg: Denizens like Kez being frozen kept of the blue during Steward visits), and he appreciates Alan Dracula too. So he did grow, even if its not perfect and his cold tendency and lesser view on denizens is still there. Yet One and Amelia's ideals of hierarchal superiority and the concept that denizens are worth nothing bleeds down to the Apex, who follows Amelia's footsteps after she has decided to refuse her former ideal to "individuate" passengers (as she has already used her outfit when finding Grace and if we think Amelia made the Ghoms then yeah it tracks), as well as Grace and Simon's own coping mechanisms of dealing with traumatic abandonment and loneliness being parallels to Amelia, through manipulating others and intruding on people's agencies respectively.

However, what I find interesting is that, like Lake, Amelia also got to the engine room and got to ask for favors from him. While the context is not clear as well as her lack of companions, if we parallel it to Lake's story and also considering Amelia's fallible interest to humanize the passengers to One, something similar might've happened.

Her story parallels with Ryan too, that wants to subvert expectations within his life even recklessly so at times that ends up hurting people (just like how she took over the train and hurt One and the other passengers), yet he deals with life better even after abandonment by Min. She also parallels heavily with Morgan, who was dependent on Jeremy and tried to isolate herself from her friend, Kez. And the big thing that Amelia lacks in this scenario, unlike Lake and Ryan, is that as said before, the distinct lack of companions she has. No one like Jesse or Min-Gi to ground and provide her company besides her desire for Alrick to come back, and doesn't show interest in forging new relationships and instead focused on her own stuff, just like Morgan grieved when Jeremy was gone. Amelia was both isolated and isolated herself further when she couped the train, and in the end like Morgan she turns from a caring person to someone that revokes agency. Though Morgan, in the end does decide to grieve herself and opens a window for her to reconnect with Kez, unlike Amelia who lost that opportunity and fell further to the dark due to cruel circumstance and her own actions.

And as for the reason why One One was split is mysterious and currently unexplained, Idk if this is an appropriate idea to connect to, but I feel like there's a possibility that he could've split himself or gave himself amnesia, as a way for him to deal with self isolation and or trauma from betrayal. Maybe he was even inspired by seeing Ryan and Min's commitment to each other? But again it is farfetched to judge as something tracks as of now.

Soo... tl;dr what i think happened.

During this era One only interacts with the passengers by maintaining the trains through the Stewards, without consideration of their well being or agency, hence the hand monster/Docent exists

Amelia enters the train and fights her way into the engine room to meet One, possibly asking her stuff back too

One decides to receive input from Amelia, who intends to humanize the passengers to him by giving them back their stuff, while akso taking interest to cultivate independence on the other passengers to avoid codependency like her

Amelia falls back to her dependency and asks One to bring Alrick back, he refuses, and she hijacks the train

As a way to give them freedom, Amelia releases all the passengers the rules the train binds them to and destroys all the Stewards that acted as maintenance before

One is sent to the snow car for 33 years. He is either split or mindwiped by Amelia or he performs this action himself

Amelia's idealism wavers over time and she gets obsessed in find orbs to create Alrick. Becomes more militaristic and creates her Conductor persona, outfitted the last Steward with guns, and created the Ghoms with her cannon

In order to make sure no passengers try any funny stuff and let her focus on her quest, she uses the Ghoms to make sure they are within order, and prefers passengers to no longer leave their cars. She ultimately has no control over that though therefore she can only minimize the problem

Book 1 happens, Amelia is ousted and decides to work under One One as a human steward and to fix her mistakes to repent

Feel free to add on or critique things because I might've missed/misintrepreted a lot

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siren-virus · 3 years

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Ok, first question about Luckyboy!AU, Rook has a girlfriend? As far as I know in cannon he doesn't even have a love interest? thought that might be my fault since it's been years since I've watched any Ben 10 series (really have to rewatch some eppisodes here :P) Who is she and what is she like? Has Rook ever taken her girlfriend in a date to the coffee shop? How much of a tease is Ben with Rook when he isn't on a date? And how much of a wingman is he when he is in one?

How is Ben's social life outside his Nekomata persona by the way? I imagine he still has some friends since he's a charismatic extrovert, but with how different everything is here compared to the prime timeline, I can't see who he might be friends with besides Julie.

Now, let's make some questions that aren't about Ben :D With the amount of invasions that Earth has had over the years is the general public privy of the existence of aliens as something more than just tourists that one almost never sees, or do they know but only aknowledge it when they see an alien in person? How is the general people view of aliens regardless?

Also, does Gwen 10 have good or bad public relations? Like, does Will Harangue berate her and turn the public against her, or is she lucky enough that he's focused on Nekomata and not her? How do the humans see her, as a hero, a child soldier, a menace, a necessary evil?

Also also, how do the Plumbers play in the whole PR thing? Do they manipulate everything so the humans have the view they think is the healthiest between humans and aliens? Do they only play damage control whenever alien activity is reported to the public? Are they known or are they still an underground organization? How does the public view them as, considering they're basically intergalactic police that aren't the most competent, specially considering that some countries have beef with their own police forces?

Now, to leave all of the political and heavy talk behind, how often does Ben play with Ship and Julie? Like, they're friends, obviously Ben gets petting privilegies and becomes a pet sitter whenever Julie has to go on a tournament and can't take care of them herself. PET SHENANNIGANS MUST ENSUE THERE, AND YOU CAN'T CONVINSE ME OTHERWISE XD

Also, I imagine a scenario where Kevin and Gwen enter the coffee shop unaware that the other is in there and Ben does everything in his power to force them to sit on the same table, reminding both of them that this is a true neutral zone and "Please don't break anything here and remember to play nice, if you manage to get through this without punching eachother I'll give you a discount on your next coffee", which is a very good offer if they think about it. Meanwhile Argit is waiting at the bar watching over the situation "Bet you 10 bucks they'll be shouting over eachother in 5 minutes" "Bet you it takes them 10 minutes"... It takes them 7 and a half minutes exactly and they can't decide who wins the bet. "There's no way they're getting out of this hating eachother any less" "As long as they don't break anything and don't bother the other clients, I count it as a win"

So Rook had an established relationship in Omniverse with Rayonna, she was introduced abit later in the series when Ben and Rook with to Revonnah. It was a very 2D relationship, just put there maybe cause of the whole shipping fiasco between Ben and Rook(?) don't take my word for it ;;

For the Lucky Boy! AU, they're together, but it's been years since Rooks been to Revonnah, crime never takes a break, neither does he. So his relationship with Rayonna is very flakey, they're on the verge of breaking up, buuut due to Revonnahgander traditions, they're together still. (pulling this out of my ass ;; )

Rook ends up mentioning he has a girlfriend at some point, it was just a casual thing, Ben won't bring up the topic because the way Rook talks about Rayonna makes him feel a little bit iffy towards the subject.

Outside of work and the Nekomata persona Ben's a little awkward in the social circumstances. At that point his social battery's almost completely clocked out. So unless he's dragged out by his friends, Julie, his old soccer mates - although it's happening a lot less now, since school finished a while ago and they're moving on with their own lives- (i refuse to call it football), Alan, if they both end up clocking out at the same time. OR, Rook. Sometimes Max if he's around will invite Ben for lunch or an afternoon snack run. (Mr smoothies, with a "healthy" dose of chillie fries. Best way to lure Ben out.)

Hell yeah, let's get down to the world building buisness, my favourite cup of tea.

Humans are very knowledgeable about alien existence, you'd have to be pretty ignorant to not believe in aliens. (I mean, lets face it, in the world we live in today, I bet, that if aliens did show themselves, some group would just say they're government actors, or russian/chinese spies. Comical, but sadly a realistic scenario...)

With the amount of invasions that have happened, and the daily attacks- normally done by humans with access to alien tech- Humans are quite fearful of them. Which has urged the plumbers to keep the aliens that live on earth down underTown.

It's not all humans of course, just most. Media influence has also pushed the feardar way up.

Will Harangue, surprisingly uplifts Gwen 10 to the eyes of the public, he's also much more focused on Nekomata. (bad news= views= good news). In Harangues personal opinion though, he'd prefer no aliens at all. So he does let his badmouthing of Gwen slip sometimes.

They do a lot of damage control, their original goal was to keep alien life hidden from the public until they(the people) were deemed ready, however, not so easy when an invasion happens nearly once a month. At least it's all limited to Bellwood. For now...

The plumbers are known to the public but aren't like your typical police force- you can't just call them. But they're always around on patrol. The police aren't exactly fond of them cause "They're terking our jerbs". But they have a joint thing going on, the police handle the human crimes, unless alien tech is involved, and the plumbers handle the alien crimes.

The public views them as an iffy subject, not exactly hailed as heroes, but more of a neutral, they're here to stay I guess, kinda thing. The focus is on Gwen mostly, as the poster child(adult) of the plumbers. (this is where I really wanna separate reality and fantasy, cause like, the issues with the police at the moment is major sooo, eh, it's a touchy subject matter)

Yes to this one. When Julie's away Ben and Ship play. Ben and Julie don't meet up often, work and the vigilante life make Ben way too busy, buuut when they do meet up Julie will pop by Bens apartment - Ben makes sure nothing incriminating is around if that's the case - , or they'll hang out at the dog park, and watch the dogs go ballistic around Ship.

For the pet scenarios, visualize them to your hearts content. I got some cats laying around for my reference... even though they mostly sleep- lazy bastards.

Yes to this too! Argit and Ben would totally make bets- Ben being an anodite can sense Kevin and Gwens emotions and when they're gonna break out into a fight- So he always wins the bets. Argit has learned to not bet too high when it comes to that- if he actually forks up in the first place- .

In the case Kevin and Gwen had broken out into a fist fight, Kevin obsorbing the marble counter, Gwen turning into fourarms. Ben nearly broke his cover trying to prevent any fights, until a coworker had stepped in and promptly kicked them both out. (maybe I'll design some coworkers)

Now to get me some mint tea, cause my fingers are about to freeze off ;;

#ben 10 #lucky boy! au #answer

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yourfinalbow · 3 years

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hi lol this is totally random but based on a harry potter post you just reblogged and you can completely ignore me if you want, but do you think snape deserved better, or are you a quote unquote "snape apologist"? I'm genuinely curious cuz I've come across a lot of different opinions on severus. Again, feel free to ignore :)

This ended up way longer than it needed to be, and I apologize for that lmao.

Hi! Hmmm I have many mixed opinions on this. First we have to talk about which Snape. Book!Snape is actually kind of an asshole, and not in the fun way. (Way more than I remembered.) But but but Alan Rickman!Snape I like a lot.

And no I'm not mentioning Snape from TCC. That was not Snape and that world was not Harry Potter.

Snape is an interesting character because of how flawed and layered he is.

(Putting a cut because it's so long, and tw for non-detailed mentions/reference to abuse, as well as both trauma and death.)

He wasn't born in a very good household, which I can definitely see as being a reason for why he is who he is. (A reason, not an excuse. Those are two extremely different things.) You look at Sirius, who also came from a horrible household, yet he managed to dig himself out of the mud and make his own path for himself. (Though I have many angsty headcanons for the thoughts he has and being afraid of what he will do and in turn his own mind. WolfStar solidarity. Neither one of them know what they are truly capable of, and both are completely afraid to find out.

Ahem sorry I got a little distracted there.

During the Marauder's era, Snape wasn't a good person in general, but he tried to be nice to Lily. (One of the only exceptions he made.) That being said, (sorry, going on a tangent again), it does not excuse what the Marauders did. As much as they are, in my humble opinion, JK's greatest creation, they should be held accountable for both the prank, and dangling Snape upside down. (Though Remus does make a few good points in their defense later, it's still not an excuse.) Two wrongs never make a right.

Snape doesn't deny Lily's claims at him wanting to join a supremacy group, nor does he say he isn't friends with Death Eaters.

It's clear through the flashbacks we're given that Snape is apathetic in the face of innocent people dying, but once again Lily is the exception.

Dumbledore defends Snape by saying it wasn't his fault that Harry's parents are dead. I actually semi-agree with this. On one hand, he was directly at fault, but on the other hand he had no way of knowing. As a severe Loki apologist, I do not blame Loki for Frigga's death. He may have led the dark elves to her, but he didn't know it was her she was sending them to. That's the comparison I make in my mind, and so I don't completely blame him like other people do. (One could also make the argument that Sirius is to blame. Sirius, who is 100% my favorite character in the entire franchise, gave the secret keeper job to Peter, thinking it would be safer with him. However, he had no ill will or malicious intentions towards Lily, James, and Harry, so I don't blame him.)

All that being said, Snape not only would have been fine with random people dying, he also didn't care whether or not James and Harry lived.

For context:

(Dumbledore is speaking, right after Snape comes to him for help.)

"You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child?" They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore.

He has a strange relationship with Lily. He obviously loves her, but not enough to want to stop Voldemort from killing the two things that bring her the most amount of happiness. It's clear he doesn't care about anyone except for Lily. Which on some level, I can understand why. When people have traumatic childhoods, they tend to hold on to a person that was there for them. Sometimes it can be the hands of the person who caused them pain in the first place, but other times it is another person who was there for him. He holds Lily's opinions of himself higher than anybody else, and he holds Lily above anybody else, and I think this can be attributed to some sort of trauma response, which is why his love for her is so unusual. That doesn't mean I think he should be fine with killing innocent people.

On the topic of trauma, I think joining the Death Eaters was another response to this, as well as a result of what kind of family he had.

Similar to both Harry and Voldemort, Snape much preferred Hogwarts to where he lived, and such the castle became his home more than his house ever was.

The Death Eaters could offer him something he had never been offered before. He belonged to something. In his own, twisted, traumatic mindset, he might have even almost seen the Death Eaters as a family. Not consciously of course, but there was definitely a feeling of belonging they gave him.

And there's something to be said about the fact that many serial killers in real life come from an abusive family. I don't pretend to understand the minds of someone who can do something so vile, but I have watched enough Criminal Minds episodes to know what they long for is control.

So being apart of this supremacy group, even though he was a half-blood himself and undoubtedly didn't entirely share Voldermort's racist beliefs, gave him both control and something he belonged to.

It's not an excuse, but it's a reason.

Alternatively, you can look at it through a quote from the most recent episode of Loki.

"It's part of the illusion. It's a cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

So it's also possible that when he was a kid, he thought being a villain was the only way to prevent others from being one to him.

Ok sorry, back on the chronological track.

So he agrees to change sides and work with Dumbledore. (Who must see just how distraught Snape was over Lily's death, to trust him immediately.)

Snape spends most of Harry's time at Hogwarts humiliating his own students. He particularly calls out Harry and his friends a lot, but I can definitely see this being a defence mechanism. He assumes Harry is James and reverts back to what we talked about earlier. (Becoming the villain so nobody else has a chance.)

But but but, he does a lot of good throughout the books. Snape mutters the countercurse, saving Harry from Quirrell during the Quidditch match. He then actually referees at the next match, preventing anything from happening altogether.

In retrospective, we see that he spends most of the first book helping Dumbledore by protecting the stone, and helping Lily by protecting Harry.

Now I could go through and list the goods and the bads of Snape throughout the entire series, but I have neither the time nor the patience, and I think you get the point.

(Except I would like the mention that Snape becomes a double agent for Dumbledore in book four, and risks his life every single day by constantly betraying Voldermort, and never once does he use this as a way to double cross Dumbledore. This was actually probably really hard on him. You can assume that having to pretend to be a Death Eater means he had to do some despicable things just so he didn't blow his cover. If he really has changed by this time, which I would like to think he has, is a lot of added guilt to live with.)

(I would also mention that he tried to save Sirius in book five, but... *falls on floor dramatically* I don't want to think about it.)

Severus Snape's time comes to the end in book seven. At the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, his death is a valiant act of sacrifice. Protecting the living and defending the honour of the fallen.

So, he has done a lot of bad in his lifetime, but by the time we as readers get to know him, his fundamental set of beliefs have begun to change. Through the eyes of what started as an eleven year old boy, you can definitely see that even after this he wasn't necessarily a good person.

And that's because his good is behind the scenes. He's good on a larger scale. He's chosen the light over darkness, but in his everyday life he's still the scared, traumatized little kid he's always been.

And him being this way has reasons, but these reasons are not excuses.

Sorry anon, this kind of turned into a long winded review of the entire character. I know that's not really what you asked, so I'll sum it up in a final few sentences sentence.

Yes. I wish Snape had gotten to live. Not because I'm necessarily a "Snape apologist", but because I find his character interesting, and seeing his reaction to his sacrifice could have been a really good read. Also Harry coming up and thanking him would have been really touching, and as a cherry on top maybe we could have gotten to read Harry apologizing for his father. Maybe even Snape sharing memories of Lily?! (Sorry that might have gotten a little to fanfic-y.)

That being said, his death being a final sacrifice towards the good of everyone, and a final testimony to his change of heart, was -- and I'll give JK credit just this once -- good storytelling, and a good way to end it.

Also I like movie!Snape because fuck yeah he's just so awesome.

If anyone has anything to add/take away, or they just want to discuss the wonder that was Alan Rickman, let me know! (Ask/Comment/Reblog/Etc.)

#ESPECIALLY you anon #I never get HP asks so this was a treat #Harry Potter #Severus Snape #Character analysis #Maybe?!#Lampswered #*Spongebob Imagination Rainbow

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shinidamachu · 3 years

Note

I got a complaint about Sunrise's execution of Yashahime. Ignoring the ships&animation: 1. Intent was to make Yashahime accessible to younger audience. Problem: Yashahime relies heavily on call backs to OG series&fan favorite characters. It doesn't work as standalone series. This alienates some fans. 2. Follows format of OG series with filler stories direct from Inu manga. Problem: We're now in a binge/streaming culture. OG series was produced when 'seasons' did not have breaks in-between (1/2)

Filler eps made only for call backs to OG series in 24 ep season format reduces proper story progression and satisfying character growth. 3) Lack of outside input. RT has said she asked Kag's VA for opinions (also rumors exist that Sunrise loved working with Kikyo's VA, thus Kikyo appears more). OG cast of VAs, some VERY big names, have shown surprise and differences in opinions (sort of a big deal to admit publicly in Japan). This leads to 4) Many expected RT-style storytelling.

Many saw the cash grab but Sunrise assured multiple times RT approved all, thus 'she must be heavily involved.' Problem: VA has mentioned RT's surprise at some story elements & RT clarified her opinion on some topics. Sunrise exaggerated or lied of RT's 'heavy' involvement & lacks outside opinions. Franchise with sequels relying on one person to make big decisions... *cough*starwars*cough* HNY could've been a good generic standalone anime. But no. Relies heavily on call backs

You are absolutely right and you should say it. You know, I’ve recently read Yashahime: Where Did The Inuyasha Spin-Off Go Wrong? by Alan Hobbs and let me tell you: it is spot on, just like your complaints. Everyone interested should give it a read sometime.

I’d say the problem isn’t even that Yashahime relies heavily on call backs to the original series, is that call backs to the original series are the only thing Yashahime has to offer. And it manages to fail even at that. Let’s be honest here: right now, who is Yashahime’s audience? Mostly adult hardcore Inuyasha fans. Why are they still watching? Because of the original characters. We know those characters. We care deeply about them. But the new viewers won’t, because the new main characters don’t give them a reason to, so they aren’t drawn by nostalgia like we are. People who have never seen Inuyasha are getting nothing out of it. And lately not even nostalgia is enough to keep ratings up. Not when there’s literally thousands of more interesting shows to watch out there.

They intended to use the original character as bait for us to come, but forgot to write compelling plots characters for us to stay. In fact, they went out of their way to deliver a story that pretty much insulted the original, so not only most of us left, we made a point out of screaming to whoever would listen how bad of an experience this whole thing was on our way out.

If they were trying to make Yashahime accessible to younger audience they miscalculated splendidly, but in the end of the day, I feel like Yashahime was just a move to recover some of the big, old Inuyasha hype in order to sell more merch, because look at the decisions they have made so far. They were always going to alienate a part of the fans. There’s no way they didn’t take that in consideration.

And sure, because of the streaming culture, the format of Inuyasha, which Yashahime tries to follow, may have fallen out of use, but the difference is that Inuyasha’s fillers were needed as a breather from the plot. Yashahime has no plot, which makes the fillers unnecessary and frustrating rather than funny or cute like most of Inuyasha’s were.

The lack of outside input was their fault. They either didn’t search around the fandom to see what we truly wanted from this show or they did and completely ignored it because they thought we were gonna eat whatever crap they fed us anyway, so why bother? If they had stopped and actually listened, they would have come to the conclusion this series was a bomb (derogatory). But it doesn’t matter how much we hate it, as long as we keep buying their products, it was all worth it for them.

And, finally, you can’t expect Takahashi-style storytelling without Takahashi. That’s why everyone feels out of character. That’s why the story is so dull. It has no soul. Inuyasha was charming enough that we could overlook its flaws. Yashahime falls unbelievably flat in comparison because is trying way too hard and not trying at all at the same time. Takahashi’s level of involvement wasn’t the only thing Sunrise nastily lied to us about.

I can only hope they lose a lot of money over it and never touch the Inuyasha franchise again.

#You guys are on fire today #Good Lord #Anti Sessrin #Anti Yashahime #Anti Sunrise

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choicesfanaf · 3 years

Text

The Meeting of a Lifetime AU Part 4: One Year of Togetherness

Pairing: Ethan x f!MC (Arundhati Kulkarni)

Characters: Ethan Ramsey, Arundhati Kulkarni, Ruby Ramsey (OC), Uma Kulkarni (OC), Alan Ramsey

Word Count: 1581

Rating: General

Summary: Ethan and Arundhati meet after 15 years.

Category: Fluff

Tagging: @nooruleman, @sophxwithers, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @jooous, @red-rookie

A/N:

@nooruleman: Noorie, I am extremely thankful for your help, support and motivation. It was only because of you that I decided to write this series. You are a literal sweetheart. Thanks a lot for your help!

I sincerely apologise if this turns out to be messy or not up to your expectations.

On their first anniversary, Ethan and Arundhati decided to take Alan and the girls to the aquarium for a day of fun and relaxation.

'Who wants to go to the aquarium?', Arundhati burst into the living room, clearly excited, forming a plan in her head.

'Me! Me!', the girls shouted.

'Then let's start packing up! We're going to leave once grandpa is here.'

'Is grandpa coming with us?'

'Yeah, he is.'

'Then the trip is going to be even more fun, isn't it, Uma?'

'Yup!'

A few hours later, they were on their way to the aquarium, when Alan realised why they were going on a trip in the middle of the week.

'Happy Anniversary, my children. Forgive me, for I just remembered it right now.'

'That's fine, dad, all that matters is you wishing us', Ethan mentioned.

'Yeah, dad, don't worry much about it.'

'Are we there yet?', the girls asked, eager to reach the aquarium.

'No, kiddos, but we will reach there in half an hour.'

As soon as they reached, the girls started pulling their parents towards the entrance.

'Wait, girls, don't run, the aquarium isn't going anywhere!', Aru said, scared that they would slip and fall.

'Aru, don't worry, I'm right behind them.'

The girls were mesmerised by the vastness of the aquarium.

'This aquarium is huge!'

'I know. It has many floors. How cool is that!'

'Wow', Uma said, looking around, deciding where to go first.

'Where do you want to go first, girls?'

'To see the penguins and the octopus!'

'Okay, let's go.'

'Look, they are giving him toys.'

'He's coming out to get them!'

'Go buddy go, you can do it!', the girls cheered along.

'Good job, bud!'

'What are these spiky ball-shaped things here?'

'They are called sea anemones.'

'They are so small and cute! I love them!'

'I know, they are so colourful and pretty!'

'What are those cup-like things, dad?'

'Oh, they are the suction cups, sugar. Octopuses use them to feel and smell things.'

'That's so cool!'

'This was amazing! Let's go to the penguins next, mom!'

'Okay, chipmunk, let's go. Slow down, girls, there is no need to run. You might hurt yourself!'

'Look how cute they are, Uma!'

'I know, they look so cute flipping their arms around.'

'Look at that penguin hop!'

'It's so funny to look at.'

'There are so many of them... How many do you think they have, Uma?'

'I think around 90-100. What about you?'

'I think around 200..'

'But why are they shouting? They are hurting my ears..'

'Looks like they are talking to their friends!'

'Come on, let's go to that fish tank over there', Ruby pointed out.

'Wait, grandpa, why are the bottles present in that fish tank?', Uma observed.

'Oh......'

'Hello, I'm Stephen. How may I help you today?'

'Could you please answer some questions that the girls might have?'

'Sure! Ask away!'

Why are there bottles here?'

'They aren't your regular bottles, they are treasures!'

'Treasures, that's so fantastic! Are they pirates?'

'Who?'

'The people who run this aquarium..'

'Oh, sadly, that's not the case. But, the people who bring them, called divers, are similar to pirates.'

'How?'

'Sometimes, when searching for fishes, they find various beautiful objects, which they keep as a collection in this tank to make the fish comfortable and to let them feel as if they are still living in the sea.'

'That's amazing! They look so lovely.'

'Where do they come from?'

'They come from Eastport Maine. It is one of the old fishing ports of the USA.'

'Wow!!', marvelled Ruby.

'We only include natural materials and keep away materials like plastic as they can cause harm to the fishes.'

'Ohhhh'

'How do the fishes use these treasures?'

'Some of them use it for laying eggs, while some use it for hiding.'

'That's so awesome.'

'Do you have any more questions, girls?'

'Nope.'

'Okay, thanks Stephen, you helped us a lot.'

'No worries, it's my job.'

'Okay, who wants to have lunch?', Ethan asked as Stephen walked away from them.

'What are we going to have?'

'Let's go check the canteen!'

'Yes please, my stomach is rumbling', commented Aru.

After getting the kids what they wanted, Ethan and Aru were going to sit down, when Alan approached them.

'Don't you want to spend some time alone?'

'What do you mean, dad?'

'Isn't it your anniversary today?'

'Yeah'

'Then go, celebrate it privately.'

'How can we do it now?'

'I meant, after taking the kids home.'

'Don't worry, Dad, I already have something planned.'

'Care to tell me what it is?'

'Sure, but not in front of Aru.'

'So, are you ready to explore more?'

'Yeah!!'

'Do you want to see the seahorses next?'

'Yeah, let's go, grandpa.'

The girls were in awe of the seahorses.

'Look at the different colours of the seahorses! Some of them are pink, the others are purple. It looks so splendid!'

'Look at those baby seahorses, Ruby!'

'They look so cute!'

'Will they eat the small fish here?'

'No, sugar, they might eat the same food, but they won't harm each other.'

'Grandpa, what are they eating?'

'Wait a moment, chipmunk' he peered as close he could get, 'I can't say if it's exactly that, but it looks like shrimp to me.'

'Is this seahorse changing its colour, Ruby?'

'There might be a little bit of change. I wonder why...', the kids discussed amongst themselves.

'Wait, why are those big seahorses dancing?', Ruby asked, pointing to a pair of seahorses near the end of the tank.

'Chipmunk, you can look it up after we go home, okay? I'm sorry that there is no one here to answer your queries.'

'No problem, dad, I know it's not your fault.'

'Mom, I'm tired, can we go home now?'

'Are you sure, chipmunk? Don't you want to explore?'

'No, dad. I just want to go home and sleep.'

'What about you, Ruby?'

'I agree with Uma.'

'Okay, then, let's go home. But first, who wants to get some souvenirs?'

'Me! Me!', the kids shouted.

'Let's go then.'

Ethan waited outside while Alan and the girls went in to get what they wanted.

'So, what did you get, girls?'

'We did not want to get anything, dad.'

'Why may I ask?'

'It was too boring, and the same stuff, everything was printed with their logo. Nothing felt interesting.'

'Oh.. and what about you, dad?'

'I did not find anything that I liked.'

'I hope that's not a problem.'

'Not at all.'

'Good, let's get going, shall we?'

The girls were so tired that they crashed on their beds as soon as they reached.

Ethan and Aru used this golden opportunity to celebrate their anniversary.

'Happy Anniversary, darling.'

'Happy Anniversary, love. You are the best gift I have ever received in my life and every day I thank God that we met again after all.'

'Aru, my love, my life has changed for the best since I met you. You have made me a human capable of emotions simply by existing. I will truly never be able to thank you enough. You have made me the man I am today.'

'Ethan, you always know how to make me feel all warm and fuzzy.'

'I have a surprise for you.'

'What is it?'

'Let's go to the kitchen to find out.'

When they entered the kitchen, Ethan started playing a romantic track.

'Wow.. this looks magnificent, Ethan. The candles smell so lovely. When did you get the time to set all this up?'

'I have my ways.'

'Candlelight dinner with such beautiful roses and amazing tender music... who knew that the great Ethan Ramsey is such a romantic?'

'I think everyone started to know that after we started dating, Aru.'

'What do we have for dinner, sir?'

'Oh, we have chicken alfredo, vegetarian lasagna, chocolate cake and red wine.'

'That's a lot of food. How did you manage?'

'As I said, I have my ways.'

'Okay, Dr Terminator, keep your secrets, but I must say, it looks very tempting.'

'Thanks. You will never stop using that nickname, will you?', he asked.

'Never.'

'Good, I'm quite fond of it.'

'Mmmm... this is indeed heavenly. I've never had anything this good. You are an amazing chef, Ramsey.'

'Why, thank you.'

'The wine goes so well with both the chicken and the lasagna, great choices, Ethan.'

'I know, that's why I chose them.'

'I don't think I will be able to eat anymore, darling. I'm too full.'

'At least have a bit of the cake...'

'Okay, honey. But only a teeny weeny bit.'

'Sure.'

The girls walked in just as Ethan and Aru finished cleaning up.

'Hi girls, how was your sleep?'

'It was good. What's for dinner? I'm really hungry.'

'Chicken Alfredo, Veg Lasagna and Chocolate cake.'

'That sounds really delicious.'

'Thank dad for it, he is the one who made everything.'

'Wow, thanks, dad! When did you get the time to make all of this?'

'That's a secret, kids. But I can tell you tomorrow when mom is not around, okay?'

After cleaning up and tucking the kids into their beds, Aru and Ethan collapsed into their bed.

'Today was an amazing day, darling. Thanks a lot for everything. I love you.'

'Oh honey, thanks for everything, too. You are my everything. I wouldn't be here without you. I love you', he cuddled with her before dozing off to sleep due to exhaustion.

#playchoices #choices fanfiction #choices open heart #open heart #open heart fanfiction #dr ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction

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willow-salix · 4 years

Text

Fluffember prompt: Bedtime

@gumnut-logic its ya boi again...

Day 10 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

She regretted picking the extra strong coffee, both for what it did to Alan and the fact that, even though she said she felt fine, she couldn’t seem to make her eyes stay closed.

Alan had indeed drunk the entire jug of chocolate chip frappe masquerading as an innocent milkshake and it wasn’t just colours that were behaving weirdly for him. He seemed to be vibrating with hyperactive energy, bouncing around in a permanent state of alertness that I usually only saw from John or Scott when he’d been chugging those energy drinks to get his late night mission reports finished.

We tried everything to wear him out and settle him down, but it was like having an overly excited puppy with springs for legs trying to get your attention.

“Scott! Scott! SCOTTTT! Look what I can do!” he yelled and proceeded to plant his hands on the floor, flip his legs up into the air and try to run on his hands. He didn’t get far.

Scott’s groan of despair was so deep and heartfelt, I wondered if he might walk out and never return. I hadn’t heard that one since Brandon last came for dinner and told us all about how he'd abseiled for charity wearing a fluffy bear costume, which didn’t sound too bad until you heard that he hadn't been wearing anything underneath it. Apparently the suit was very hot and heavy so he had decided, after trying it on for a few practice descents on an indoor wall, to forgo what he considered unnecessary clothing. That would have been fine if he hadn’t caught the tail on a jagged rock and not noticed. Although, seeing his bare behind on a live stream had doubled the amount of donations that had poured in. Now he was planning to try naked skydiving and was trying to get us to join him. You can guess what the answer was to that.

“Come on, dudes, it’ll be like, totally extreme! Picture it, The Bear and the Boys, think of the publicity, man. You guys are like, thrill junkies, same as me. You’ll love it, the wind in your hair, adoration of millions of fans. It’ll be off the hook!” he’d rambled, getting far too excited for his own good. Scott had had to excuse himself and hide in his office for half an hour while Brandon talked excitedly to Alan about his latest videos. I left them to it too.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, Alan...

“Alan will you stop!” Witchy yelled when he crashed sideways like a felled tree for the fourth time, almost taking out Gordon who was walking past, innocent for once.

“No! I can do this!” Alan protested, trying to right himself but just making it worse. “The world is upside down” he was lying on the floor at this point, “so if I make myself the same then the world will be right side up again! Simple.”

“No, not simple,” Scott groaned, helping pick Gordon up off the floor. “You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” Alan protested. “I’m totally zen.”

I must say, his idea of zen is a lot different to mine.

Scott grabbed Alan’s legs and flipped him over, dragging him to his feet.

“Woah! Are you like a wizard or something? That was totally magical!”

"He's even starting to talk like him," Gordon mused, rubbing his elbow, sore from its collision with the side of my piano.

Witchy groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “It’s gonna be a long day, isn’t it?”

She wasn’t wrong.

It turned out that Alan hadn’t just magically appeared in the kitchen when he’d gotten hungry, no, he’d just woken up from a four hour nap and needed a drink. So, not only was he hyped up on enough caffeine to wake the dead (or John after a three day mission stint) but he was also stuffed full of sugar…

***

“Alan, it’s four in the morning, you have to settle down,” she begged, looking so worn out I thought she might keel over. I didn’t blame her, I felt roughly the same. Gordon had gone to bed hours before, as had Grandma, Kayo and Dad. I had stayed up because it was partly my fault that we were in this situation in the first place and Scott was up because he’s Scott and just has to be involved with everything.

“I can’t,” Alan argued. “I’m not tired.”

“We are!” she insisted. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“You sleep if you’re so tired,” he snapped back. He’d been doing that all day, flipping from adorably sweet and compliant to downright murderous in an instant, we were trying not to take it personally. “I’m not tired. I’m gonna call Brandon and chat to him if you guys don’t want me around.”

“No!” Scott jumped in before we could. He knew full well that if Alan spoke to Brandon in this state he’d agree to a million crazy schemes in a matter of seconds. He had to be protected for his own good.

"We do want you around," she argued. "But we also need to lie down before we fall down. So please, if you love me at all, stop trying to sneak off to eat more cookies and vegemite, because one, it's gross, and two…its gross. Where was I going with this?" she asked me, looking so confused I had to turn away so I didn't laugh.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on in here?” John asked, appearing in the doorway having apparently just arrived home. There were rules now, if he had finished his work and she was on the island he had to come home, no matter how late it was. EOS was perfectly capable of handling monitoring duty and most things could be coordinated remotely if it was needed, and if it couldn’t it only took eight minutes for his elevator to take him back. He had no excuse.

“Oh, thank the gods, I’m so tired and my eyes hate me, my eyelids are broken” she groaned, making grabby hands in his general direction which he ignored to stare at Alan.

“Alan drunk coffee,” Scott told him. “Their super strong coffee.”

“What? Why? Who was stupid enough to give him that?”

“No one, he helped himself, thought her frappe was a milkshake,” I told him.

“John! You’re home! This is great! Watch what I can do!”

“No!” Scott, Witchy and I all yelled at once.

“Maybe you should stay where you are,” John suggested, obviously wishing he’d stayed in space even if that did mean he’d get yelled at later.

“I don’t want to sit anymore, I’m bored.”

We all looked at John imploringly, he was the one that Alan would always listen to.

“Hey, Alan, do you wanna watch a movie?” John offered.

"Is that a good idea," Scott started, his expression clearly saying that he thought John was insane to even be thinking of it. We wanted Alan to settle and calm down, not get extra hyped from watching one of his action movies.

Alan stopped bouncing for a second, looking suspicious but also interested. “What movie?”

“Your choice, what was that one you’ve been asking us to watch for months, I can’t remember?” John made his way over to the couch and Witchy shifted over to make room for him, draping her legs over his the moment he sat down.

“The new superhero one?” Alan asked hopefully.

“Sure, we can do that one,” John agreed, sending me a small smirk when Alan dropped back down on the couch, ready to watch. I gave it two minutes before he’d be leaping up again and running off to jump in the pool or something.

For once Scott didn’t dare tell Alan it was too late to start watching anything or that he should be in bed, he was just grateful that Alan had stopped rolling around the floor pretending to be a turtle stuck on its back.

“Oh, yay, I’ve been wanting to see this,” Witchy said, perking up, apparently forgetting all about her rebellious eyes and tiredness, getting what she called her second wind. We all knew that one, when you had been up so long and were so tired that you had actually gone past the point of tiredness, past the point of being able to sleep and were suddenly wide awake again.

John started the movie, lifting his arm to drape it across her shoulders when she snuggled against his side, her arm sliding around his waist. Alan shifted too, dragging his movie blanket over his legs, wedging a cushion against her side so he could lean against it, clearly getting comfortable. Scott and I exchanged a look, maybe there was hope for this plan of John’s after all.

Ten minutes into the movie Alan moved to curl up to her, both of them leaning against John, squashing him into the side of the couch, but at least they were settled.

Another five minutes and she was yawning, her head dropping to rest against John’s shoulder.

“Tired, love?” John asked innocently, smiling softly to himself when she shook her head firmly, but soon, despite her protests, her eyes started that slow blink of a very tired person who is trying desperately to stay awake.

Alan yawned, pulling his blanket up to cover his shoulders and Scott risked a small smile in hope that he would soon be able to get some sleep himself. I didn’t blame him. The ironic part of this day was the fact that we had finished off all the other coffees to ensure we stayed awake longer than Alan.

Her eyes drooped, slowly closing but she snapped awake a moment later.

“I thought you wanted to watch this?” Scott teased her, earning himself a glare.

“I do, I am watching, look, eyes, facing the screen, watching.”

She might have said the words but her actions said otherwise.

“Shall we turn this off and watch it another day?” I asked when Alan’s head dropped forward although he instantly snapped to attention again.

“No, I’m watching it,” he answered stubbornly.

I lifted my hands in surrender and followed John’s lead, staying quiet and watching the movie.

“Why don’t we go to bed?” John murmured to her a little while later when she’d jerked herself awake for the third time.

“No, I’m not tired, I told you, I want to watch this.”

"You just fell-" Scott started but John cut him off with a warning eyebrow raise.

"I did no such thing," she grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter to prove her point. "I was watching."

“Of course you were,” John agreed placidly, not bothering to argue with her but I did notice that his fingers snuck into her hair, playing with a few strands. She sighed softly, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder as she watched the action on the screen, letting herself relax again.

She lasted another fifteen minutes before she stopped fighting her body's needs and closed her eyes, letting them stay closed.

A soft snore drew our attention and we turned from the projection to see Alan, mouth open, eyes closed, fast asleep. John shifted slightly, pulling witchy onto his lap, letting Alan's pillow slide down taking him with it. His hand snuck out, tugging at Alan’s blanket, pulling it up to cover his head.

We waited a few more minutes, sitting quietly, not wanting to risk breaking the fragile peace by waking them up, allowing them to settle deeper into sleep.

“OK, I think we’re good,” John whispered conspiritally.

“How did you know to do that?” Scott asked, shocked to the core that his standard approach of ordering followed by threats had failed on both his brother and his best friend, while John had sailed in and succeeded with minimal effort and without raising his voice once.

“They always do that,” John said, shrugging one shoulder so as not to disturb her. “She’s a woman, you can guarantee she’ll say she wants to watch a movie but she’ll fall asleep half way through, she always does. If she can’t sleep I'll just put an episode of something on and that usually does the trick.”

He pointed to Alan. “It’s the same with him. Who do you think he called in the middle of the night when he was thinking too much about homework or the million other things that teenagers seem to worry about? Tell him to pick a movie, cover him with a blanket and he’ll be out in minutes.”

“That’s…” Scott paused, unsure what to say. “Useful to know,” he finished.

"Arguing and pushing someone doesn't always work, you have to use your brain, assess the situation and pick your battles. Tired people are stubborn people."

"You can say that again," I muttered having dealt with my fair share of tired and stubborn family members, the two worst culprits being the ones currently talking.

“You take care of him, I’ve got her,” John nodded at Alan, smoothly changing the subject.

Scott helped me lift Alan who, although skinny, was growing lankier by the day, all long limbs and sharp elbows that you have to arrange carefully or risk dropping him. I took him to his room, putting him to bed then returned to fetch Scott.

“He still asleep”? Scott asked, still in his chair.

“Yep,” I answered. “He’ll be in for a surprise when he wakes up though, he hardly ever uses his bed. He'll think that he teleported again.”

"True enough," Scott chucked softly. "You need help with her?" He nodded at witchy, who hadn't moved.

"Nope, I got this, it's not my first time." With the ease of much practice he gathered her closer, sliding an arm under her legs, shuffled to the edge of the couch and got awkwardly to his feet. "You two should get some sleep too."

"We will," I assured him.

"Well, see you both in the morning," he said, heading to the door.

"Wait a second," I called and he paused. I grabbed the little notebook she'd left on the table, holding it up for him to see. "She hasn't filled this in today, you wanna take it?"

"She doesn't trust me," he shifted her slightly, rebalancing her in his arms, her face buried in his neck. "Not since last time, though I don't know what she expected when she told me to report what had happened, reports are for the facts, I did just that. If she'd wanted me to recall every single detail of the day she should have specified that. You write it."

"Sure, I can do that," I agreed, pocketing it.

"Night then."

"Night, John."

"Night, Scott."

"Goodnight."

Three down, one to go.

"Come on, bro, all your chicks are nested, now it's our turn," I said, patting his shoulder as I passed. "Even smother hens have to sleep some time."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, " he grumbled, yawning loudly, stretching as he got to his feet, too tired to even protest the hated nickname. "Bedtime."

#alantracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Isolation Island #isolation #Thunderbirds in isolation #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction

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judylicious · 3 years

Text

And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,897

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Warnings: !!! IMPORTANT trigger warning mentions of physical abuse !!! also smut

Chapter VIII

It was already late and Alan was behind the wheel of his Mercedes, on his way home. He couldn’t stop thinking about Charlotte in so many ways and he was wondering if she’d be telling her parents about him right now or if she already had or maybe wouldn’t at all. He thought back about her father at the Chez Paul, not only about how he offended Alan but about the way he was with his family, which grew some serious concerns in Alan whether he shouldn’t have talked her into having that conversation. Maybe he should check on her?

Driving by, just to see if she was doing okay? He sighed, running his hand through his dark hair. He tried to distract himself and thought about today’s rehearsal and the new songs the boys were working on, when he realised he had forgotten some sheet music at the rehearsal room. It wasn’t any music for the band but for him privately that’s why he was keen on getting the sheets back as soon as possible. He turned right at the next junction to take a slight detour to catch the papers, which would also give him some extra time to decide whether he should pay Charlotte a visit or not. As he entered the rehearsal room he did so without turning on the lights. Since he knew where he had left the sheets, the light from the corridor was enough for him. He grabbed the slips of paper and was already on his way out again, when he saw something moving in the corner. He slowly approached and felt relief but also concern, realising it was Charlotte. She was asleep, huddling, her small jacket covering her body. He got down on his hunches and stroke her forehead and hair carefully in order to wake her up. “Charlotte? Hey hun…” The girl slowly started to wake up and was surprised to see the trumpet player. “Alan? What are you doing here?”, she asked him, still sleepy. “I could ask you the same thing.” “I was sleeping.” “Why aren’t you home?” He rubbed his fingers, feeling some kind of dirt on them. He moved them to the small beam of light coming through the door and gasped. “Charlotte!” Alan immediately grabbed the girl and pulled her into the light to take a look at her. “What happened?” She had a raw wound on her temple, the blood not completely dry yet and a bruise on the other cheek. “Nothing, I-” “You’re calling this nothing?” “I fell down the stairs.” He took a moment to look into her eyes. “Was this your father?” Charlotte dropped her gaze. “C’mon hun, I’m taking you to the hospital.” “NO! No, please, it’s not that bad.” Alan pressed his lips together, “Alright but you’re not spending the night here, you will get some rest at my place. But me, no buts!” He carefully helped her up and got her into his car and to his flat, where she took place on his sofa. She looked tired and weary, her eyes red from crying, her mascara entirely smudged, she looked like a picture of misery. Alan got her glass of water and a wet towel to wash off the blood and smudge of her face. “That should do it for now.” He gave her a warm smile. “You can have the bed,” and nodded to the room next door. “I will take the sofa. And if you like you can change into this shirt, should be a lot more comfortable than…” Alan paused as Charlotte got up vacantly, grabbed the shirt and went next door. In the meanwhile he made out the sofa and got a blanket and a pillow for himself. He softly knocked at the door frame of the bed room and peeped his head in. “Do you need anything else?” “No, I’m fine, thanks Alan.” Charlotte sat on the bed. “Okay, I’ll be next door if you need me.” “Alan? Could you… would you, stay with me? I don’t wanna be alone.” “Of course.” He smiled at her again, and for the first time that night he got a smile back from her. The musician quickly turned off the lights in the living room and laid next to her in bed. Alan wasn’t exactly sure on how close she wanted him to be but eased as Charlotte moved herself close to him, resting her head on his chest. She nestled against him, squeezed him hard, so he put his arm around her in response. “I can’t help myself but think this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have talked you into this. Or at least be with you.”, tensed up he waited for a response but could only hear Charlotte’s soft breathing, the girl in is arm already asleep.

The next morning Charlotte woke up to the smell of coffee. Alan sat at her side with a mug in his hand. “Good morning”, he greeted her. “Did you sleep well?” Charlotte hummed satisfied, stretching herself. “Haven’t had a rest like this in months.” She looks absolutely gorgeous Alan thought to himself, even with those bruises. She had been wearing her hair up last night but the hair tie must have been slipped off over night, her beautiful curls now down to her shoulders. He hold the coffee out to her. “How are you feeling?” “Better actually. Thanks for looking after me. Would you mind if I took a shower?” “Of course not, towels are in the bath. How about breakfast after you’re done?” “Sounds great.”, she smiled and with that Charlotte hopped out of the bed and hurried to the bath.

After she turned off the tap, she could hear Alan was playing his trumpet. She wrapped a towel around herself and tiptoed to the living room. He didn’t noticed her, so she leaned against the door frame and watched him. Charlotte didn’t know the song he played but I sounded like heaven. Alan was so talented. How can he make a brass instrument sound so soft and mellow? Charlotte got lost in the lovely sounds and the sight of watching Alan. He looked so hot, his sexy lips interacting with his instrument and him being in total control. “Why did you stop?” “I didn’t see you standing there.”, he turned his head to face Charlotte. “Not absolutely happy with the way I played.” “You’re kidding? This was extraordinary. What is it called?” “It’s part of the solo in “You Don’t Know What Love Is”.” “It was beautiful.” “Yeah, I’m not sure.” Charlotte walked over to him and sat down on his lap. “What happened to the presumptuous Mr. Fabulous I met at the concert, who bursts with self-confidence?” She caressed his chest and planted a lingering kiss on his lips before she moved down, kissing his neck. Alan closed his eyes, savouring the moment, his hands slowly moving over her thigh to the towel wrapped around her desirable body. “I thought you’d like if I hold myself back, get out sweet Alan, lock away Mr. Fabulous.”, he chuckled about his own remark and couldn’t believe he just said that. “Mhm, nonsense.”, Charlotte whispered. “Let him out.” She started to kiss him on the lips again and pushed his hand under the towel. He let her have the lead for a moment before he kissed her back eagerly. He nibbled on her lower lip, then deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. Until he ripped away the towel, grabbed both of her legs and lowered her on the table a few steps away. She laid back while he started to kiss her neck and moved on on to her shoulder and her breasts. He let his tongue flick over her hard and sensible nipple, a soft moan leaving her lips. Alan made his way down to her core, planting a kiss on her naked body every few inches. Charlotte shut her eyes until she felt his hot breath again her inner thigh and lady parts. She looked down and caught Alan’s eyes, which were staring intensely into hers. He kept watching her as his tongue slid against her fold and they hold eye contact as he buried his face between her legs. Charlotte bucked her hips when she felt his finger thrust inside her pussy, which was wet and dripping with their mixed juices. He added another finger and began curling them up so he could feel her warm walls. “You want me?”, Alan purred, “Yes, I do.”, Charlotte gasped. “I want you to say it.” “Mhm, I want you Alan, now. I want you to take me, please.” The trumpet player only grunted in response and quickly got rid of his trousers while Charlotte sat up and undid his shirt, running her hands over his chest. It was exactly like she imagined it. There was a bit of soft hair going down to his navel, broad and muscular shoulders and well defined pecs, he looked absolutely perfect. She hungrily looked at his length while giving it a few good pumps and strokes. He grabbed her cheek buts and positioned her in front of his throbbing cock, right at the edge of the table. The handsome musician crushed his lips on hers again, passionately, her arms encircling his neck and drawing him closer. In the heat he lined up his cock in front of her clit and pushed hard into her, catching Charlotte by surprise, causing her to whine. A deep moan left his mouth but he didn’t waste any time and started to thrust inside her. Holding her close, her ass in his hands he increased his tempo and Charlotte buried her head into shoulder. Both were a moaning mess and he could feel her walls clinching and become tighter around his thick cock, telling him she was close to climax. “Don’t come yet.”, he groaned, and grabbed one of her breasts, playing and pinching her nipples but Charlotte couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I-I can’t...”, she whined and her moans filled the air, they sounded heavenly to him, her walls pulsing because of the friction as she came hard on his cock. Coming down from her high, she tried to catch her breath “I’m so sorry.”, she panted. She quickly removed herself from his member and pushed him a few steps back to the chair, causing confusion in him. Her mouth met his dick, intending to finish him off orally. Charlotte ran her tongue along his shaft, then taking all of him into her mouth. She bobbed up her head up and down, swirling her tongue around his tip every time she went up. “Fuck.” he growled. “Wasn’t expecting this.” A little smirk escaping his lips. His moans became briefer and heavier as his cock twitched insider her mouth and he released his cum into her mouth. Charlotte eagerly swallowing his big load and licking off what was left on his length. “You’re amazing you know that?”, he smiled down at her and quickly pulled her up into his lap again and into a tight hug, planting soft kisses on her shoulder. He picked up the towel and put it around her gently. “You still up for breakfast?” “I need it now more than ever.”, he laughed and they both got dressed before heading into the kitchen.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

#Alan Rubin x Reader #Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Blues Brothers #blues brothers fanfiction #blues brothers fandom #Alan Rubibn

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starman-john-tracy · 3 years

Text

Radiation Poisoning | Chapter Eleven

by @starman-john-tracy and @asteria-star

In which John Tracy gets exposed to uranium and nearly dies, The Hood is evil, and Star generally freaks out a lot.

Chapters: [One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Twelve]

Once it becomes very clear that John is asleep - and not about to wake up and catch them talking about him - Star slumps. One hand grips the edge of the bed until her knuckles are bleached white and the other snaps up to clamp over her mouth, cutting off a ragged, slightly hysterical laugh.

“Ooh my god, I think I’m going to be sick… I can’t believe that worked, oh thank god.” When she pulls her hand away, still grey faced, she’s grinning at Virgil. “I didn’t think I was going to be a match.”

“Me neither.” Virgil huffs, deeply worn down by all the anxiety he’s been through recently, “Geez…”

“Well, that’s one good thing at least,” Star says. Virgil opens his mouth to remind her it's a choice, that she doesn’t have to do this, but Star’s already shaking her head. “Don’t start: of course I’m going to do it. There’s no way I wouldn't.”

Virgil just flashes her a tired, grateful smile, the words for just how incredibly grateful he is escaping him for the moment.

Star unclips the monitor from her finger, tosses it to the side, and eases back until she’s lying down on the bed with her head in her hands. She already knows the next words out of her mouth are about to start an argument, and they haven’t even told the other brothers yet.

“I feel fine, Virgil, so when can we get started?”

She peeks through her fingers, and to say Virgil doesn’t look convinced is an understatement.

“As soon as your blood work starts coming back clean.” He narrows his eyes at her, she might be able to bluster and bluff her way through how she feels, but the statistics don’t lie. “And that’s not just for your benefit, John needs the healthiest stem cells he can get, to reduce the risk of them being rejected.”

He pushes his hands hard against his knees, bones crunching back into alignment as he gets to his feet and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. Star knows it’s the truth, but she can’t help but feel like she’s being played, and that it was a low blow anyway.

“I need you to eat your vegetables, take your tablets and get a lot of good quality sleep.”

“Jesus,” She groans, pulling a face at Virgil. “Now I know how annoying I must sound to John.”

Virgil just pats a hand the size of a dinner plate down on her shoulder.

“I know it’s frustrating to wait, but in the long term, this is the best thing for him. Gordon’ll be down for his shift soon.” He adds, his eyes flicking over to John to check he’s still sleeping soundly. “Are you alright to keep an eye on John while I go up and update the boys with his treatment plan. They all need to be aware of what’s going on, so we can keep the Island as clean as possible.”

It doesn’t escape Star’s notice that Virgil wants to tell the other brothers their developments without her there, but she can’t quite bring herself to care mind. He doesn’t mean to intentionally exclude her, he just needs someone down here on babysitting duty.

Even with the tiny chance of a match, they should have tested her first, gone down by age or something, at least then Gordon and Alan would have been spared; even if that wouldn’t have kept Virgil off the table, and even though Gordon would have complained endlessly about the handful of days separating their birthdays. Sure, she might not have been the one to take off John’s helmet, and John looks set to spend an hour lecturing her if she mentions what happened on the station being her fault again, but she can’t help but think about how it is her job to keep John safe. That was what her freedom was spared for, and he’s her best friend, and they keep ending up in these messes.

“Yeah, I can watch him. Not like he’s going to be causing any problems,” Her eyes dart to John’s sleeping face. “Touch wood. And can you ask Fish Sticks to bring me a snack when he comes?”

“Yeah, will do, anything in particular you fancy?” Virgil looks, somehow, even more tired than John. It’s starting to worry her, even though Virgil is usually one of the Tracy’s most likely to take care of themselves instead of working themselves until they drop- looking at you, John.

“Come here,” she gestures at him until he complies with a sigh, grabbing his shirt once he’s within arms reach. No matter how compliant and relaxed Virgil tends to be, Star is pretty sure she’s about to get a resounding no. “Can you please take a nap? Or something? I’m worried about you, Virg, I think you need to take a break.”

“Hmm.” It’s hardly an agreement as he folds his arms around her shoulders and pulls her in close for a good, firm hug. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.” He lets what he thinks is a good point hang heavy in the air between them, “John’s health is just so delicate right now, and the family needs updating and…”

Star sighs, thoroughly frustrated by the damned Tracy stubbornness, as if unaware she herself possesses a similar trait. She lets Virgil have his hug without complaint, even if it isn’t entirely what she meant. Her arms come up to wrap around his middle and giving him a squeeze, careful of the still sore biopsy site.

“Let Brains do something, or delegate. I’m sure even Alan can manage to disinfect the house, even though his room is a biohazard.” She rubs a hand between his shoulder blades. “Hell, set me to work. It’s what I’m here for. Just stop doing this all yourself, like this is all your responsibility, or I will make you take a break.”

He sighs again, hot and heavy, into the top of her head, where he’s rested his mouth against her crown.

“...I’ll get something to eat and catch a few hours, but the hard time I’m having is nothing compared to what he’s facing,” He tilts his head a John, still sound asleep, “I can’t let him down.”

“Yeah, and he’s got all of us looking out for him,” Star murmurs in response, all traces of the underlying danger in tone usually, in place for anyone but John, gone from her voice. “This is me looking out for you too.”

She pulls back a little so she can see him, unsure how he’s going to respond. Virgil is so very different from John, and Star spends so much time with John alone, she’s nervous she’s going to overstep boundaries she’s forgotten are there.

But Virgil just smiles warmly at her, the expression soft and fond.

"Now you really sound like part of the family." He points out, a little teasing but mostly incredibly sincere, as if he's really, truly pleased to fit her into the mad, chaotic family dynamic they've got going on down here on Tracy Island. Of course, he could just be grateful that she's offering her blood to save his brother's life but… there's a look in the young man's eyes that makes it very clear that it's more than that. "Thanks, Star." He reaches a hand out to give her shoulder another warm squeeze - the man is far more tactile than his sleeping brother, and it's a nice change to not have to chase him for it. "Just you look after him, like you always do." His fingers chuck her under her chin, as if she really is his little sister, "I'll be alright for a couple more hours on my feet, then I'll head to bed, alright?"

“Yeah, yeah,” Star grumbles, only half joking and shoving him away by his arm, a light grin on her face. “Off you go there, rip off the band aid, take the bull by its horns, all of that. Call me if you need backup, I may be able to call in some favours if you need to hide from the law.”

Virgil is smiling at her, a fond tug on the corners of his lips that must run in the family, because Star is ever so in love with the expression on John. Virgil bids her farewell, still limping and tired but happier than he had been with four negative tests, and Star is alone with John.

She sighs, rolling to her side on what she is sure is about to become her bed, to gaze across the room at the sleeping astronaut.

There’s something we can do for him, she tells herself, when her eyes snag on IVs and monitors and bruises littering his skin. We’re not done for yet.

Very little happens until the next morning. The grim but hopeful news gets delivered with no problems and a little circle of avidly listening Tracy’s. There’s a lot of questions but Virgil is nothing if not diligent in his explanations, and he seems happy to try and reassure them all as much as is possible, in the situation. John sleeps peacefully through the night, fighting the radiation poisoning in his cells with good old-fashioned R&R. Scott finds Virgil passed out where he’d collapsed on the sofa, just as sound asleep as his brother downstairs, and had found a pillow and a blanket to fling over him, quietly thankful that Virgil isn’t as tall as he or John are, as if either of them had tried the same thing, they’d have a crick in their back for days. Gordon pops in to take over the shift from Star, bringing her a couple of roughly made ham sandwiches (he must have put them together himself), a packet of crisps and a warm, slightly flat lemonade - just in case her stomach needs settling after.

The morning dawns altogether too bright and cheerful, the sun like a big, fat tangerine lazing on the horizon, and it brings Scott down to the beach for his daily jog, only to find Alan sat out by the tide - staring miserably into the sea and chucking in small pebbles, letting them to be nibbled up by the lapping waves. Ever the perceptive big brother, he takes the kid to see John, and so his and Star’s morning starts with a slightly rude awakening as John gets a warm ball of Alan Tracy bundled up against his side.

“Come on Allie, don’t wake him!” Scott hisses, but it’s altogether too late for that, and John strokes his fingers sleepily through his little brother’s hair. All in all, it’s not the worst way he’s ever woken up.

“Jesus Christ,” Star grumbles before her eyes are even open, woken by the sound hissed ‘whispers’ that are too loud for that time of morning. She’s ditched the sweater at some point, leaving her in a tank top and sweatpants, and one bare arm snakes out from beneath the sheets to scrub at her face. Bleary blue eyes peer out from her bird's nest of lank hair, landing on the gaggle of Tracy’s across the room. “Oh my god.”

John is smiling sleepily at his brothers, then at Star, looking none the worse for wear for his rude awakening, especially compared to yesterday. Star is more than happy to keep up slightly grumpy appearances on his behalf. She manages to push herself into a crumpled sitting position in the centre of her bed, frowning sleepily at the clock, and then them. Her skin crawls, like she’s intruding, which might have something to do with the frosty not-look Scott gives her.

John gives her a breathless chuckle.

“Good morning.”

Star scowls, not heat behind it for him.

“This isn’t morning, this is the ars-“

“Language,” Scott scolds, looking meaningfully at Alan. “Please.”

Star raises an eyebrow. Alan finds it hilarious.

“You good there, Johnny?” Star asks, clambering out of the bed and stumbling over to where he’s nodding sleepily. She runs a hand through his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead and murmurs, “I’m going to take a shower before Virgil considers me a biohazard, and probably steal some coffee. You alright here with Alan?”

He nods again.

“Alright. I’ll be back.”

Star tries not to be too obvious about the stiffening of her shoulders when she hears Scott move to follow her out of the room, or the way she tracks his movement.

“I… uh… owe you an apology.” Well that’s not exactly what she’d been expecting to follow her up the corridor. Scott Tracy is loitering, stiff and awkward and thoroughly unused to apologising, a little way behind her - as if he thinks she might lash out at him and he wants to be well out of range. “For my behaviour, uh, you know, earlier.” It’s very vague, as if to prevent him from having to come out and explain, like a toddler, what the bad thing he did was and why it was bad. “Virgil explained what happened better and, um, what’s happening now,” Now that she’s the key to saving their brother’s life. “So, uhhh, I’m sorry. I guess….” His nose is all scrunched up, like that was hard. “Um, you know, I’ve been on a lot of rescues,” Scott doesn’t exactly laugh, but it’s clear he’s trying to make the conversation lighter. “Gotta admit, the two of you have been up there with some of the most… scared, when it comes to each other.”

Star nods slowly, chewing on her lip.

“I mean, he’s… I’d do anything for him. I quite literally love him more than life itself.” Scott looks distinctly uncomfortable about that declaration, “But it’s also… different. Up there, I mean. If an alarm goes off down here or someone is hurt, you’re more likely to find them than not, and you can get them help. Up there, an alarm goes off and you don’t find whoever you’re with quickly, there’s a good chance you’ll never see them again. Hell, if there’s a hull breach or a leak or some kind of glitch… there's just never a lot of time, or help. It’s just us, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, not that we really have days either.”

“I… yeah.” Scott seems to be struggling with all-the-ways-his-brothers-could-die-in-space, but to his credit, he shakes it off pretty quick. “Sorry, I should let you go, I just… wanted to make sure you were ok.” And that might be the most honest thing he’s said to her since touchdown. The Ex-airforce pilot might have a terrible quick temper and a fierce overprotectiveness when it comes to his siblings, but he can see when he’s wrong about someone and maybe Carmen Daines isn’t all as bad as her paperwork had made her seem. Not that he’s been snooping on her GDF file because he… yeah ok he definitely has. But it was for John’s benefit really, so he doesn’t feel all too bad about that.

He’s read some pretty… grim things in that should-have-been-confidential file.

But the girl in the too-big jumper with wild brown hair and knobbly knees in front of him has just offered up her own bone marrow to save his brother’s life.

So she can’t be all bad.

“Uh, I should leave you to your shower, Carmen.” He waves a hand around airily, a lopsided half-smile on his face like he’s just done a great thing, and righted all the wrongs in the world with his apology, “Take care up th….”

Star is almost about to accept it, until that one, pesky little word came up. It stopped her in her tracks, a physical jolt like electricity that didn't come when it was spoken by John, and no one else knew or dared try.

The name.

“I’m sorry,” Star smiled sweetly, words dripping venom. “Apology… almost accepted. But call me by that name again and I’ll break your nose.”

Scott blanches white at that. She means that very literally and he’s not the kind of man to assume that just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean she hits hard. Both of his hands shoot up, defensive.

“Ah!, Uh, sorry. Star?” He tries again, tentative, wondering if he dares ask why no one uses her real name. It seems like a nice, solid name to him at least. “Doesn’t John call you, um, that?” He points out, confused and, if he doesn’t lie to himself, a little afraid of a girl half his size.

Star smiles slightly at him, like somewhere in the back of her mind she regrets the threat, but still wouldn’t take it back if she could. Part of her, the part that doesn’t feel entirely real, like she’s a name on a page and not a real person, wants to tell him everything for the sake of being known. It would bring the total number up to four, if you counted Colonel Casey, which seemed ridiculously low considering the infamy that had followed her around in the life before this one.

“John’s allowed to, because he knows better than to call me that around other people… at least I thought he was, but he can be forgiven for the odd slip.” She eyes Scott off, eyes raking up and down from where she stood on the staircase, a handful of steps above him. “There’s a reason I don’t use it. That name belongs to someone you would be killed for knowing, and not by me. There are very dangerous people in the world who are hoping I am dead, but still sleep with one eye open just in case I’m not. Because-” There’s a thickness to her voice that surprises Star herself, and she has to look away from Scott’s wide-eyed staring. “-they ruined- they ruined the life that I had, and they know I could do the same to them. So it’s safer for everyone involved if we all just pretend the owner of that name doesn’t exist.”

Star isn’t sure what Scott had been expecting, but she’s pretty sure it wasn't that. His face alone says that when she turns back to him, and she has to snort. His eyebrows have practically disappeared up into his receding hairline.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt anyone,” she slouches against the banister, looking down at the man. “But I am going to ask why you know that name. Because I know why Virgil knows it, and I know why John knows it, but I don’t know why you do.”

“Uh.” Says Scott again, very eloquently, as if suddenly realising he’s probably in big trouble. “It got, um, mentioned once.” He rolls his shoulders through a shrug, lying through his teeth because god forbid she finds out he’d been snooping where he shouldn't. Evidently though, he missed a lot back then. “Might have been John… in his sleep?” He offers, sounding like he can’t quite remember, when really, he’s making it up as he goes along. The idea that John might have been calling out for her in his sleep, while she was snoozing, is a heart wrenching one. Especially as it’s a downright lie.

Scott Tracy has bluffed some of the best councils in the world, for IR and for Tracy Enterprises. His power to lie is one he wield much, much lighter than his brothers ever would.

Must be a corporate thing.

“Speaking of John, I should probably get back and see what Alan’s up to…” He waves his hands around dramatically, excusing himself, “Enjoy your, um, shower?”

There is no good scenario Star can conjure up in her mind as to why John would be mentioning the name Carmen in his sleep, and the idea is tangled up with the speed with which Scott threw his hands up. She can’t stop thinking about it, not digging through John’s clothes for a clean sweater to wear with her own pants, not in the shower, not when she’s braiding her damp hair back again in the hopes of keeping the mess it was this morning from happening again.

To her, and anyone else who knows, she supposes, the name Carmen is something violent and wild and so terrifying she hates it. But John uses that name like its synonymous with Star, like it’s something soft and precious to him to have the privilege, so does that mean-

Virgil is slouched at the breakfast bar when Star wanders past the kitchen, falling asleep over his mug of coffee. She considers him for a moment, picking a loose thread on her sleeve, before deciding to just bite the damn bullet.

“Hey, Virgil?” She asks softly, but he jumps at her arrival anyway. “Can I ask you something?”

He grunts something that might have been a yes.

“Do I scare people? Do I scare you and… John?”

Virgil moves his face from where it’s smushed against the hand propping it up, and raises an eyebrow, running his fingers backwards through sleep-mussed hair.

“No?” He sounds tentative about that, like he’s worried he might not be awake enough right now to say the right thing. A fist scrubs sleep from his eyes, “Where have you got that idea from?”

He gives her an appraising look, up and down, taking in the baggy sweater (emblazoned with a NASA logo in a way that strongly hints it’s been stolen) and her pale face and damp hair.

“Are you alright?” The eyebrows crinkle, and he pats a big hand down on the bar stool beside him. “Hop up, I’ll make you a coffee.” She looks like she needs one, “Or, uh, a tea?” He seems suddenly uncertain, “What would you prefer?”

Star raises an eyebrow at the offer, and the fact he’s told her no earlier. “Am I allowed coffee?”

She hauls herself up onto the offered seat, watching Virgil blink tiredly on his way around the kitchen.

“John’s not, and it’d be best if you keep off the caffeine the day or so before the transfusion, but your heart rate was looking good last test, so there’s no reason that today you can't have something, if you want. No offense, but you look like you could do with it. There’s fruit tea or a milkshake if you’d rather though.”

He potters around the kitchenette, collecting mugs and filling Grandma’s old electric kettle. The coffee he’d made for himself had long gone cold during his snooze and it gets dumped unceremoniously down the sink so he can replace it with a fresh, hot cup.

“Now, what’s got you all worried about how scary you are?” He asks, distracted, but listening all the same. John’s not the only Tracy who's a great multitasker.

“I think I scare Scott,” she tells him in a way of explanation. “He was apologising and it was almost going well for him, and I really didn’t mean to tell him I’d break his nose but-“

She takes a breath, mostly in awe of the complete and utter dazed confusion on the brunette's face.

“Scott knows my real name. Did you tell him it?” She doesn’t sound angry, just… wondering.

“No?” Virgil’s eyebrows go through a violent wiggle of emotion, leaving them high on his forehead. “I make a point of calling you Star, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable… or to threaten to break my nose.” She gets a look with that comment, “But I even document your medical records under your pseudonym, it’s just what we all know you as, so I don’t think Scott would have picked it up from me.... I can’t imagine John would have told him either though,” Virgil frowns, “unless he overheard you guys.”

“John doesn’t use it often enough…” Star muses, counting back all the times she’d heard him say it, most of which occurred on Thunderbird Five, and rest when they were alone. Virgil slides the hot mug across the table, and Star wraps her cool fingers around the warmth. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, was just curious.”

She sits in silence for a moment, gazing into the dark brew like it might be convinced to give up all of life’s secrets. Eventually she gives up, in favour of peering up at Virgil.

“Still strikes me as odd.” He comments, considering.

Star chews on her lip. With Virgil’s confirmation of confidentiality, she knows how Scott knows her name, and she’s not sure how bothered to be by it, or what else he saw.

“So how are things looking? Does a normal heart rate mean we can… get started?”

Virgil continues frowning, but it drops away as he’s distracted by her eagerness to get stabbed with big needles. He laughs, all teeth.

“Not quite yet.” He reaches out and pinches her skinny arm, making a point that she needs to get some nutrients in her first, “I got some more tests that still need to come back clean, there’s more than your heart I’m worried about.” He looks ever so apologetic.

“And anyway, John got to start on the chemo conditioning first.” Virgil runs his fingers through his hair again - she’s starting to notice he does that a lot when he’s stressed. “I’m reluctant to begin when he’s already so ill, but it’s the sooner the better, in the long term. We’ll probably give him the first transfusion later today. I want to get him back to his own room first though, so he’s more comfortable. It’s a horrible process and it’s going to be a really stressful time, so the less he has to see that medical room the better, I think...” He takes a long swig of hot coffee, eyelashes fluttering as the caffeine hits his system.

“Grandma’s up there deep cleaning his room for us.” He smiles wearily at Star. “Once she’s done, do you want to help me get John up there?” Virgil wants to preserve his brother’s independence while he can, and won’t force him to use a wheelchair while he can still walk, but John’s balance has always been a tricky thing, so an extra pair of hands on his side would definitely help.

Star nods absently, staring in the deep dark depths of her coffee like it holds the answers to all of life’s questions. It won’t be the first time she’s hauled John around, whether from lack or sleep or food or injury; but being arguably good at it doesn’t mean she likes it any better. The image of sick John in his room makes her chest give a savage squeeze of anxiety. That’s not where he’s supposed to be, maybe when he’s had a little too much gravity or a handful of stitches, but not when he’s dying.

But she knows John would prefer it, and whatever makes him happy wins.

She takes a long drag of her coffee, and tells Virgil, “yeah, of course I do.”

She pushes the half empty mug of coffee across the table and stands, only wobbly the tiniest amount. “I take it there’s going to be a lot to bring with him, and I think they’re having a party down there, so we should probably-“ she makes an awkward gesture in the direction of the stairs, as if looking for permission, “-go?”

Virgil laughs at her keenness; it warms the cold, tired parts of him that, though he’d never admit it to anyone, just want to give up and go to bed. He downs the rest of his coffee in one, enjoying the burn. There’s a heavy, satisfied sigh as he slams the big mug back down on the tabletop.

“Alright, you win.” He smiles, flicking open his Comm. “Grandma?” They both watch the little holographic representation of the woman startle as John’s bedside holocomm flashes on, “Are you ready for us up there?” She’s got big yellow rubber gloves on and a pinafore over her purple jumpsuit, the wispy grey strands of her hair all twisted up in pin curls.

“Virgil!” Her voice is full of scolding, but it softens when the idea of John being brought up comes into the mix. “Yes dear, everything is dusted and disinfected.” She sounds very proud of the accomplishment. She’s had to put a lot of his things into storage boxes though, just to keep the amount of objects that could be holding germs to the minimum, and she feels a sort of weary melancholy about it. It makes it feel almost like he’s already gone, and she’s having to pack up his things. Ruth shakes her head, forcing those thoughts out. “John won’t even recognise how clean it is up here!” It’s a joke, but her voice wobbles at the end in a way that makes Virgil’s heart clench.

“I’m sure he will, Grandma.” He says, very soft, but he knows that with the amount of time John spends in space, his bedroom is probably as unfamiliar to him as the med room is anyway. Maybe he won’t even notice the changes she’s made. “Thanks for this. Give us ten minutes and we’ll be up there with Johnny boy.”

There’s a warm FAB on the other end, and her mop-armed figure flickers out. Virgil slings an arm around Star’s shoulders.

“You need anything to eat before we go down?”

The answer should probably be yes, but Star shakes her head anyway, loose strands of her fringe brushing up against Virgil’s chest from where she’s pinned beneath his arm. Her stomach is tying itself in knots at everything, and she honestly doesn’t think she’d keep anything down if she had to eat and then move John… which is unlikely to be an entirely pleasant experience. She feels very small standing next to him, in a way she doesn’t next to John, even though he’s almost a good head taller than his younger brother. Leading the way to the stairs means Virgil can’t protest, so that's what she does, taking them back the way she had only just come from, following the sound of voices.

Both Scott and Alan are still there, and miraculously John is still awake, smiling lazily around the room and whatever Alan was chewing his ear off about. When he sees her, she smiles back.

“I’m here to perform a prison break,” she tells him, “how about it?”

#Radiation Poisoning RP

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Preen

Okay, this is 4000 words of fluff dripping with so much sop, it is almost pure liquid. It doesn’t really go anywhere, and it refused to come to a neat ending. So yeah, FishTank with just a dash of Earth and Sky in the middle, all wrapped up in the Marks & Wings AU.

I was desperate to write some comfort and M&W is my go to for self indulgence, so that’s what we have. Blatant Virgil comfort fic :D

Many thanks to @janetm74 and @tsarinatorment for the read through and support, but I would also like to say a very big thank you to all of the Thunderfam who sent me so many kind well wishes on Monday. I’m feeling better and the writing muscles seem to be flexing okay at this point, so maybe, if you like Marks & Wings, please consider this a bit of a thank you fic. And for those of you who don’t find this AU to be your cup of tea, I hope I can write you something you like in the near future. ::hugs you all:: You are all so kind and amazing to me.

I hope you enjoy whatever this is ::extra hugs::

-o-o-o-

“Virg, let me do it?”

Virgil brushed his fingertips through the length of one of his black flight feathers. Its root twinged, both with irritation and the ache of bruising, but he found the grass seed responsible and a pair of fingernails scraped it out and dropped it onto the locker room floor.

The relief was wonderful.

Only a thousand or so more to go.

A sigh. “Do what?” He started working on the next grass seed. Honestly, grass was evil and he was ever so thankful there was very little of it on the Island.

“Preen your feathers.” Gordon was standing in his swim shorts watching Virgil poke at his wings. “I want to help.”

Another grass seed fell to the floor. “It wasn’t your fault, Fish.”

“You still saved my ass.” A hesitant and emotional breath. “I want to help you.”

Scott was usually the one who helped each brother preen. ‘Smotherhen’ was a very appropriate name when he had his feathers out. Virgil helped Scott when he had issues. But feathers were sensitive and preening a deeply personal thing, much like bathing.

And Gordon didn’t have feathers and didn’t know what it felt like.

“You know I help Allie sometimes.”

The honesty and concern in those russet eyes were ever so strong.

“Okay.”

The small smile that spread on Gordon’s face lit up his eyes.

Virgil ripped another grass seed from his plumage and bruises twinged. Ow. “Be gentle. There are a few...bruises.”

The smile disappeared. “Are you hurt?”

Virgil sighed. Gordon had managed to get all the rescuees onto the rescue rig, but an explosion had destabilised the building before he could jump off himself. The result had seen his fish brother pinwheeling towards hard concrete.

Virgil hadn’t hesitated, his wings out before thought. Launching off the rescue rig, he’d swooped through smoke and caught his little brother midair. But another explosion had thrown him off pace and the result was Virgil curled protectively around Gordon and tumbling through a field full of weeds.

And grass. So much ripe seeding grass.

So not only was he aching all over from a shitty landing that could have, but somehow didn’t, seriously broken something, his wings were also full of contaminants.

The flight home had been hell. Even hidden in his mark, they itched, irritated and tormented him.

To finally be home and able to attend to the mess was a relief in itself, but not so much as getting all those damned seeds out. If Scott had been here, there would have been a lecture, but so much help.

Eight metres of feathers was a lot to attend to.

But Scott was on Three with Alan, so it was just him and Gords, an equally caring but inexperienced brother.

Virgil stretched out his right wing. It groaned and complained, forcing a breath from him. “Just aching bruises. I’m fine, Gords. Honest. Getting these seeds out will help a lot.”

Gordon held up his hands. “Tell me what to do.”

So Virgil did. He guided his brother’s hands to a feather, pointed out the snag and showed him how to use his fingernails to brush it out, how to align the feather into its correct position, and outlined how he would wash them himself and work a light preening oil over them after his shower.

Gordon listened ever so attentively and Virgil had to admit, it was a relief to have another set of hands working through his feathers despite the ache.

Gordon, for all their brotherly ribbing, was ever so gentle when he wanted to be. Virgil had seen him caring for children and babies out in the field and he trusted him with so much. His feathers were nothing in comparison.

More grass seeds fell to the floor. They would be vacuumed up and destroyed lest they contaminate the Island which was why Virgil was doing this in the locker room rather than anywhere else. There were decontamination facilities here of multiple types.

“Sit down, Virgil. Let me do this.”

Virgil blinked. “It will get done faster if we both do it.”

“You need to rest. And don’t tell me otherwise, or I’ll grab the scanner and prove my point enough to call in Grandma.”

His shoulders dropped. “Gordon...”

“Sit down, bro.” A hand on his wing shoulder. “Please.” Gordon really knew how to throw those puppy eyes around. To top it off, Gordon grabbed an office chair and wheeled it in so Virgil didn’t have to sit on the hard bench.

The upholstery looked soft and inviting – a sign that Virgil was obviously desperate. It was only one of the many type chairs in the villa and nothing special.

He must be tired.

“Fine.” Virgil groaned as he took the chair and straddled it backwards, letting the back rest support his front while his wings had total freedom.

Gordon was right. That tumble of a landing had punched the wind out of him. It had been a shitty rescue to begin with. The fall had just topped it off.

Fortunately, Gordon was fine. Virgil had used that entire eight metres of feathers to wrap around and protect his brother, curling them up into a ball that rolled, shedding harmful momentum.

But there were scrapes and bent feathers and bruises.

So many bruises.

Virgil winced as Gordon tugged on one. “Sorry! A stubborn burr. It’s out now.”

Virgil closed his eyes. “Is fine.”

Gordon’s fingers gently moved between primaries, methodically examining and removing irritants.

It was quite nice to have someone else taking care of his feathers. Gordon’s touch caressed jangled nerves, untangled snags and lined up vanes one by one. The relief was palpable and relaxing.

Virgil sagged ever so slowly where he sat, his head falling onto his arms.

At some point he realised Gordon was humming. Just softly and a familiar tune. It took a solid few minutes for Virgil to connect the notes and come up with the composition he had created for Grandma’s last birthday.

Gordon had a good voice. He wasn’t ashamed to use it either. Unfortunately, his choice of repertoire left much to be desired. His best usually involved an ancient sea shanty, a genre his fish brother actively took an interest in. At his worst, it was something like the ‘I’m too sexy for this shirt’ song from last century.

His little brother had blown a few shirt buttons the last time he danced to that one. If he’d known that Alan would film it and send a copy to Lady Penelope, then perhaps he wouldn’t have danced so...exotically.

Alan was still suffering the fallout from that episode.

Lady P was still smiling.

Virgil couldn’t help smiling, too.

“Got something on your mind?” Gordon startled him. “When’s Tin due back?”

“Gordon...”

“What? I know you have a thing for our lovely security chief. Just asking.”

“Well, don’t.”

But even that poke in the ribs couldn’t disturb him that much. Gordon was doing a great job cleaning his feathers and Virgil lost himself in the sensation of being cared for.

Gordon must have realised that his brother had found peace because he didn’t say anything further, just hummed away as he worked.

Virgil ended up with his eyes closed, his shoulders relaxed and his wings drooping on the floor.

He was vaguely aware of Gordon sweeping up detritus and for a moment, he put enough energy in to lift his wings off the concrete properly.

“I think I’ve got most of them.” His brother brushed his fingers gently through feathers, skipping across his secondaries, up to his lesser coverts and onto the down that tracked over his shoulders and back.

Virgil shivered at his touch.

“Virg?”

He pushed himself up, staggering to his feet. “Gotta go wash.” Gordon grabbed him as he wobbled.

“You sure about that?”

“Will be more comfortable.” He had to remind himself that Gordon didn’t know. Or maybe he did. Virgil felt suddenly felt guilty for not having had such a discussion with his little brother in the past.

“I can understand that, but you’re dead on your feet.”

Virgil forced himself to stand up straighter and everything ached. He experimentally flapped his wings just a little. So much better.

But they were still dusty.

“A quick rinse and dry. That’s all.”

Gordon looked ready to go for that scanner again.

Virgil sighed, half folded his wings and headed for the specialised wet area designed for just this activity.

He closed the doors between his brother and himself.

“Virg?”

“I’m fine, Gordon. I won’t be long.” Something obviously had the fish worried. Virgil closed his eyes and let his wings droop. They were heavy.

He gave himself that moment, before shucking off his pants and throwing them in the laundry chute. Lifting his wings again, he walked to the wall, punched in a temperature and set the fine spray running.

Walking into the warm water was bliss.

He may have lost himself for a moment or two between soap and spray.

“Virg? You okay in there?”

He startled and realised he had been standing there, half asleep for he didn’t know how long.

But he was clean. Thank goodness. Soap had been applied to skin and water had washed the dust from his feathers.

This, of course, made them heavier, but only for a short time as he switched the spray off and activated the blow dry.

Warm air evaporated the moisture off his wings. He flapped them repeatedly and they complained. But the water fell and soon he was as dry as he could be.

With a sigh, he carefully folded his pinions and let them go.

As always, it was a rush of sensation as they disappeared and his centre of gravity shifted abruptly. So tired, he staggered to one knee with a groan.

So many bruises.

“Virg, goddamnit.” His brother was suddenly there.

It wasn’t a gasp. It wasn’t. Really. “You ever heard of knocking?”

Yellow light flickered over him and he groaned. “Gordon, I’m fine. Just need some sleep.” He pushed himself off the floor.

A towel was shoved into his stomach. “Put this on. We’re going to see Grandma.”

Virgil clutched at the towel. “Why?”

Gordon held up the readings on the medscanner. “You tell me.”

Virgil stared at the numbers and the diagram representing his body. “Just some bruising.” Perhaps some imbalances. Nothing sleep and a good meal couldn’t fix.

The thought of food turned his stomach over. Maybe just a drink.

“I’m fine, Gordon. Feathers were a bit messed up. Broke a couple and gained some bruises. There is nothing a simple painkiller and bed won’t fix.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist anyway and strode towards the doors.

“Virgil-“

“Gordon, please.”

“Didn’t you say you needed to oil your feathers?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I could do it for you now.”

Virgil closed his eyes again. God, he was tired. “You can help me tomorrow. Now, I’m going to bed.” He shoved the doors open further and strode through. His uniform was still on the bench, but he’d stash that tomorrow as well.

Gordon hurried to catch up with him and followed him to his rooms.

“You’re stalking me, Gords. I’m going to get weirded out.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror yet?”

“What? Why?”

He had been about to shed the towel and don his pyjama pants, but wasn’t used to the audience.

Gordon grabbed him gently by the elbow and led him over to his full-length mirror.

His reflection looked as tired as he felt. “What is your point, Gordon?”

His brother turned him side on, the black etching of his mark wrapping around his biceps and shoulder…was mottled.

Virgil twisted further around and found his mark to be a patchwork of red and blue up and down the length of his torso.

That explained the ow.

“I would really prefer Grandma to take a look, Virgil.”

“It’s just bruising.” No matter how spectacular.

“We fell from quite a height.”

Virgil looked over at his brother. “This is not your fault, Gords. You know that. A few bruises are nothing compared to your safety.”

“But what about your safety?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why won’t you let Grandma have a look?”

“She doesn’t need to. There is nothing to look at.”

Gordon stared at him and something flickered in his eyes. “Fine. But I want you to let your wings out before you go to bed.”

Virgil blinked. “Why?” He had just let them go and that had hurt enough.

“I want to check to make sure all the burrs are gone.”

“We’ve already done that.”

“I want to give them another look, just to make sure.”

Virgil eyed him. “There is not enough room in here.” He gestured around his bedroom.

“Then we’ll go into the living room and set up a lounger.”

“So Grandma can accidentally find me there?” Virgil frowned at his brother.

“Nooooo.”

Virgil glared at him. He was up to something, he was sure of it. But Virgil didn’t have the energy to pursue it and honestly, he did trust Gordon. He knew enough to know that feathers were no joking matter.

Ever.

Not after the incident with Scott all those years ago.

That had not been funny at all.

And there was something in his brother’s eyes. Honest concern.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Entering the living room, Virgil was surprised to find that it was evening and the sun was gilding the Island. A gentle breeze was blowing off the caldera and the birds on Mateo were warbling as they settled down for the evening.

Virgil stood on the balcony barefoot, shirtless and just let it soak in. The breeze ruffled his hair and caressed aching skin.

“Virg? Come lay down.”

He blinked and turned to find Gordon standing beside a lounger with a thick mattress and several pillows.

“Gordon, why are you doing this?”

“I want to help. You got hurt because of me. Please help me fix it, even just a little.”

“It was not your fault. Just a shitty rescue.”

“You’re in pain.”

“It’s nothing, Gords, honest.”

“Will you please just lift and lie down.” There was just a touch of warning in his little brother’s tone. Gordon had a streak of their father in him almost as much as Scott did.

Fine.

But Virgil glared anyway.

Before he could think about it too much, he hunched and lifted.

And Gordon had to catch him or he would have fallen. God, that hurt. Only bruising, but ow.

Gordon had caught him under his arms. “Virg? You with me?” Worried brown eyes peered up at him.

“I’m fine.” But it was rasped out. His wings were still folded and a mass of ache, dragging on the floor.

“C’mon, let’s get you lying down.”

Virgil grunted. The divan suddenly looked so much more inviting. The pillow was soft beneath his cheek as he finally lay down on his belly. He let out a breath and every aching muscle relaxed into the soft mattress. Where had his brother found it? It was heaven.

“Spread your wings for me, Virgil?”

He blinked, almost on the edge of sleep. “Mmm-hmm...”

“This is the last I’ll ask of you, I promise. Spread your wings and then you can sleep.”

Sleep.

Ever so stiff, his pinions ached and creaked as he unfolded and extended them out. Gentle hands caught his left wing and guided it down to a soft surface. Footsteps around him and his right wing was gently nudged to an equally soft landing.

A hand on his shoulder and a finger brushed hair out of his eyes.

Ever so quietly. “Sleep, big brother.”

Virgil let his wing shoulders relax and mumbled into his pillow.

Gordon snorted just softly and a moment later a light blanket was laid over his legs. “Your modesty is safe. Now sleep.”

Mmph.

But Gordon was running his fingers through the fine down on his shoulders and Virgil was too tired to resist.

He slipped away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Gordon.”

The voice was his beloved grandmother, whispering. “He has some bruising and a few electrolyte imbalances. He just needs rest and possibly a painkiller.”

“He won’t take them, you know that.” A shaky breath. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, honey. What about you? You took the fall as well.”

“I’m good, Grandma.”

There was silence for a moment and Virgil drifted.

“He saved me.”

“You boys have a habit of doing that.”

“Grandma...”

“You fell. Your brothers can fly. Of course they are going to catch you.”

There was a muffled sound.

“Aww, honey, come here.” Shuffled footsteps. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s hurt because of me.” There was a shake to Gordon’s voice that set off alarms in Virgil’s head. His little brother was hurting.

He shifted, attempting to shrug off the fog of sleep, but a small hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He had no idea if the words were addressed to him or to his little brother, but the hand brushed gently through his shoulder down and was ever so paralysing that he lost his fight with sleep again and drifted off.

-o-o-o-

Someone was tugging gently at one of his primaries.

The tugging nudged him into awareness, but then disappeared, leaving him floating in that lazy level just below full consciousness.

Fingers were combing ever so gently through his feathers.

One by one.

He was being looked after.

He wasn’t awake enough to protest, to resist the care being given. Not awake enough to feel guilt.

But enough to just enjoy being looked after, being cared for.

Being loved in the gentlest way possible.

Fingers combed through his secondaries and he let himself fall away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Scott. Grandma has checked him over, I promise. Just a mass of bruising.” Gordon’s voice was whispering again.

“He looks awful.” Alan’s honesty bounced around Virgil’s dopey brain.

“Shh. I know. Don’t wake him.”

A flicker of yellow light and Gordon sighed. “Don’t believe me, huh?”

“I believe you. I just need to check for myself.” Scott’s deeper rumble blossomed comfort in Virgil’s heart. His big brother was home. He would look after Gordy.

Virgil relaxed just that notch further.

-o-o-o-

Time passed.

It must have, because when Virgil finally woke up everything was quiet. Slow blinking revealed very early dawn barely lighting up the hardwood floor.

Slow neurons fired and eventually gave him the information he needed. He had fallen asleep before the sun went down. Gordy.

Gordy falling.

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

“Gordon’s fine, Virgil.”

The words were quiet and calm.

He was laying on his belly and the barest of movements proved his wings were still out. Looking up he caught sight of his eldest brother sitting against the glass doors that led out onto the balcony. He blinked. They were closed.

Scott put down his glass of protein shake. He was dressed in his running outfit, but by the look of it, he hadn’t been out yet.

“How are you feeling?” His brother pushed himself off the floor and took the few steps across the hardwood to crouch down beside Virgil.

How was he feeling?

He had obviously slept in the same position all night and the smallest of movements let him know all about it.

Another groan gave him away as he let his forehead drop to the pillow again.

“That bad, huh?” A hand landed on his shoulder, fingers gently nudging the fine down of his trapezius. “Can you fold your wings?”

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. Scott was right. Remove the weight of his wings and then attempt the rest.

Movement hurt. The next day was always the worst. Adrenalin gone, abused muscles stiff, bruises fully realised. He grit his teeth.

But this wasn’t the first time.

He lifted his wings off the pillows Gordon had piled there for him and with a groan that crept out between his teeth, he retracted his wings, folded them, and let them go.

All the breath in his body left with a whoosh and he collapsed back into the bed and closed his eyes.

“Better?”

Virgil’s muffled expletive said everything.

Scott snorted. “Okay. Hold that thought. I’ve got just the thing.”

A breath and Virgil let himself drift.

A gentle touch to his mark startled him.

“Hey, relax. Just a little preening oil. Gordon did your wings last night. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to rub a little on sore muscles.” And with that his brother started running gentle circles all over Virgil’s back. His mark tingled at the contact, but it was safe contact, welcome brotherly care.

Care.

The scent of the bathing oil wafted past his nostrils. Scott knew from his own experience where and what hurt in this situation.

Well, not perhaps this exact situation. Virgil couldn’t recall Scott catching Gordon midair before, but there had been that incident with Allie. Their little brother terrifying them all prematurely grey.

It had been Virgil who had administered the care to Scott that day.

Fingers nudged knots and movement into his muscles. It felt good and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Thanks, Scott.”

His brother didn’t stop his ministrations. “Anytime, Virg, you know that.”

There was silence for a while after that, Scott methodically and medically working to rub in the liniment. Virgil knew he should move, get up, find where Gordy was…but he found himself paralysed.

Scott knew exactly what he was doing.

Caring, smotherhen, big brother…

-o-o-o-

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next he knew the sun was high in the sky.

He blinked. Everything was quiet – a very unusual situation for the comms room.

Shaking off most of the fog, he pushed himself into a sitting position and was pleasantly surprised when the pain was minimal. It still hurt, but a good percentage of the stiffness was gone. His skin was ever so soft where his big brother had rubbed in oil.

Standing up proved a little more of a challenge, but he got there and worked several of his muscles until they loosened up.

He felt surprisingly good, despite the aches.

All he needed now was coffee.

He shuffled his way across the hardwood floor in his bare feet and down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Virg! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Virgil blinked and froze. Gordon, as usual, was far too full of energy first thing in the morning.

“Oh, hell. Coffee. You haven’t had your coffee yet. Sit down, I’ll get you some of your stim juice. Just a moment.”

Gordon started flapping around the kitchen.

Virgil stayed where he was and just stared.

What?

The smell of coffee was suddenly in the air and Virgil felt like floating on it like Pepe Le Pew on a waft of perfume.

“C’mon, Virg, sit down. Coffee’s nearly ready. Want some toast?”

Virgil was notoriously slow in the mornings, but even his morning fog brain could twig something wasn’t right. Gordon was always kind, but this?

“Gordon, what are you doing?”

“Getting you coffee. And breakfast, if you want it.”

His fish brother darted about the kitchen like a guppy swimming in caffeine.

“Gordon?”

“You want sugar?”

“Gordon.”

But his brother wasn’t stopping. With not enough brain cells to work out a different strategy, Virgil resorted to putting himself directly in his brother’s path and grabbing him. “Gordon, stop.”

“What? Why?”

Virgil sighed. It was all too much before coffee. He pulled his brother into a hug. A tight one.

“I’m okay, Gords.”

His brother’s response was muffled against Virgil’s shoulder. Gordon struggled against his hold, so Virgil let him go.

Gordon flung himself away. “Aaargh! You don’t have a shirt on, Virg. Bare skin much?” He stared at his hands. “And oily. Ergh.”

Virgil snorted. “Sorry.” He bit back a grin, but soon lost the fight and ended up chuckling at the expression on his little brother’s face.

Gordon screwed that face up in disgust. “That’s it, you can get your own coffee.”

“Will do.” He reached out and ruffled the fish’s hair.

Gordon batted him away. “Get’orff.”

Virgil sighed, smiling. “Thanks, Gords.”

The fish froze, staring. Something stirred in his eyes. “Anytime, Virg.” He swallowed. “Always.”

Virgil softened even more. “Same.”

They stared at each other a moment longer only for it to be broken by the chime of the coffee machine.

“Ooh, I dare not stand between you and your coffee.” He backed away and then around Virgil as if he was an explosive.

Virgil rolled his eyes and beelined for the coffee machine, because coffee. When he turned around, beverage of the gods in hand, Gordon was gone.

And the warmth in Virgil’s heart had nothing to do with the mug in his hand.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #FishTank #comfort fic

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vegetacide · 4 years

Text

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 6)

Veg • notables: Little something for Fluffember .. works for several prompts... Brothers, warmth and together...

Any errors in this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 Bit 1 & Bit 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo, (V/K) Scott, Alan, John, Gordon and Grandma.

Location: TaG-verse AU | Tracy Island

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 6 - Keluarga

The flight home was thankfully an uneventful affair.

Kayo had fallen asleep almost as soon as the jet’s door had been closed and Virgil had been by her side holding her hand the whole way back to their island.

When the island finally came into sight there was a collective sigh of relief. The stress of everything having sucked the energy right out of all of them and home meant safety, comfort and more importantly; sleep.

Tucking Kayo safely back into their marital bed saw Virgil relaxing for the first time since… well since he’d woken up that morning..God, had it only been twelve hours ago? It felt like a lifetime and the exhaustion weighed on him furiously.

Not that he would be able to get much sleep tonight.

Leaning over his sleeping wife, he adjusted the sheets and brushed her forehead with a kiss. She stirred slightly and turned into him, always one to seek his heat even on a tropical island and her eyes blinked open myopically.

“Shhh, it’s okay. We’re home. Go back to sleep.”

Kayo snuggled further under the covers and quiet ‘Love you’ drifted his way as he emptied his pockets of his ID, wallet and personal communication.

A light knock on their door, had him turning and he toed off his boots to muffle his movements before he traversed the short distance. Opening it he was only mildly surprised to find his brothers on the other side.. All of them.

Holding up a finger he glanced back into the room to make sure everything was in order and that Kayo would have everything she needed. Not that it looked like she would be rising anytime soon. The whole affair of the day had done her in.

Truthfully, he was happy she was finally getting some rest even if it was ordered and dismantling Shadow had been in his back pocket as a way to convenience her.

Surprisingly though after going through all the details with his family when they were discharged, Kayo looked like she wasn’t in the mood for any more lecturing so the Shadow card hadn’t needed to be played.

She’d barely moved since they’d left the hospital except when he’d move her. He’d woken her up long enough to pour a drink of electrolytes down her throat and a protein bar into her belly and she’d been out again barely after swallowing the lot.

An uncomfortable trip to the bathroom later which his Grandmother had seen to though he had been hovering just outside the door in case he was needed. A change of clothes and into bed she went. Out like a light again before her head even hit the pillow.

He was done in himself but his brain was running in circles which didn’t look like it would be giving up anything time soon. So the company just outside the door was a welcome distraction.

Satisfied that his wife would be alright. He set his comms to alert him if she woke up and carefully crept out the door.

“Hey Virg,” Alan whispered, stepping up to his brother and giving him a hug. “How’s Kay? She gonna be alright?”

Virgil hugged his brother back, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair while he was at it.

Alan grumbled at the action and wiggled away. Smoothing his hair back into place as soon as he was free and Virgil couldn’t help the smile that upturned his lips at the disgruntled look his littlest brother shot him.

“Hey Space Case. She’s sleeping but Doc said she’ll be alright. She just needs to get some rest.”

“Looks like you could use some yourself.” Gordon observed and moved in for a hug as well.

“Thanks, Squid. Glad you noticed.”

“Well someone has to keep you honest and Kayo..” His eyes did a sweep of him from head to toe. “Well, she’s blinded by all that muscle."

The swat Virgil sent the aquanau's way as easily dodged as he danced out of reach.

Laughing as he used Alan as a human shield who protested loudly at being manhandled, he tossed out “All that bulk is slowing you down, you should lay off the protein shakes.”

Virgil just rolled his eyes. Trust Gordon to do whatever he could to lighten the mood with whatever tomfoolery he had at his disposal.

It was at that point that he noticed John standing in the back of the crowd of brotherly forms. “John, when did you get here?’

John just shrugged, “Not long ago. I came as soon as I could but that storm system off the coast made taking the elevator down impossible.

“It’s good to see ya in the flesh.” Virgil smiled, stepping forward enveloping the communications expert in a hug. John’s hugs were rare but the returned squeeze was given freely, a testament to the support system his brothers were offering.

“You too, brother mine.”

Scott stepped up next, though he’d been at the hospital with the couple. “Anything you need, let us know.” He offered and the round of hugging continued.

“I know and I appreciate it.”

He could always count on his family when the chips were down, there was no doubt about that.

Scott released him, one hand giving his shoulder a squeeze and tipped his head towards the door at Virgil’s back. “Doc’s made arrangements to come out in a couple weeks' time. Just had the call come through with the details. Shouldn’t be a problem getting him out here for it. Between us and Aunt Val we have plenty of pilots who can give him a lift.”

“Great, I’m sure Kay will be thrilled.” The hand on his shoulder squeezed again and Scott gave him a knowing look.

“She’s a fighter. Hates being benched just as badly if not more so than we do.”

“That’s what I’m worried about..”

“Meh don’t worry about it. With the Great Doctor Sally Tracy with her sights set on her, Kayo doesn’t stand a chance.” Gordon piped up. “Trust me on that one. She’ll be lucky if she can manage to wiggle a toe without Grandma noticing.”

“Well she had to be super vigilant with you, Gordo. We still have no clue how you managed to change the electronic audio to Spanish from the couch.”

Gordon stood up taller, primped in all his mastery of everything prankster. “Trade secret. If I tell you, I would have to kill you.”

This time there was no dodging the swats directed at his head from three older siblings though Alan yet again shrieked in protest as he was tossed about like a sac of meat.

Sally was a practical woman with simple tastes and simple pleasures. A night of bridge with the girls at the local social club, bocce ball every other Tuesday with fellow medical alumni and curling once a month with her bereavement group who had become like an extended family to her after her husband had passed.

Simple things, never extravagant.

She grew up with the mentality that to get what you wanted took hard work and determination. Blood, sweat and tears was her motto through her years of medical training and her intern placement in one of the busiest hospitals in the U.S.

She’d worked hard to get where she was today despite the trials and tribulations of being widowed, dealing with her own grief and that of her son’s and taking charge of his young brood while he wallowed in his pain.

She didn’t fault Jeff for his actions, she understood them intimately. She’d lost herself in taking care of the boys to help keep the pain at bay. Oftentimes pushing them just as hard as she did herself. In the end though despite the odds, she thought everything had turned out all right.

Was the road easy? No. Far from it. Was there things she wished she had handled differently? Of course. Her son disappearing into a bottle of despair being one of them. But the boys had been raised well by their dear mother even if only for a short time.

The eldest who remembered her memory took that care, love and devotion their mother had been known for and poured it into the younger two. Doing everything within the power of their shattered world to keep the family in one cohesive piece even when their father was absent both mentally and physically.

They’d survived and come out the other end stronger than anything she could have imagined and she wasn’t afraid to admit it and how proud she was of every single one of them.

And true form when one of the brothers stumbled the other four were right there to steady him and get him back on his feet. Providing whatever support that was needed in their own individual ways.

When others would bolt, her boys rallied. Diving in head first to shore up whoever was in need. It’s what made them great at what they did. That core strength of love and support radiated out of everything they touched and because of that they’d helped more than she could count.

Here she was, coming to check on her adoptive granddaughter and her loving boys where right were she expecting them to be. Standing as a unit outside Virgil’s door. Surrounding him and holding him up with hugs, pats on the back and caring words.

She stopped and kept back a few paces, letting them have their moment and watching all the love. They deserved this moment cause they were few and so far in between.

Rescuing the world didn’t leave much time for brotherly interaction and these precious moments needed to be cherished.

Leaning against the wall, she allowed a soft smile to grace her lips. Something in her movement must have alerted her boys though because no sooner had she settled than one by one they turned her way. Not surprised in the least to find her there.

She looked at them, taking in the details of the men they had grown into and she locked the details away for safekeeping.

Scott with the little licks of grey at his temple a sign of the stress the last years had put on them all but his eyes sporting the beginnings of laugh lines.

Virgil, his quiet nature and artist spirit. Steadfast even with his wife just feet away resting with their babe growing in her belly. As worried as he was for he felt things more deeply than all of them he put on a brave face. Not wanting youngest brothers to see him waver even though she knew he was.

His eyes spoke volumes. She could see the exhaustion and fear in them but even so he graced her with a small smile in return.;

John, her star baby. When had he come down? Shocked, she frowned slightly as she took in his uniform. He’d need to wear that for a while until he acclimated to Earth’s gravity again.. A downside to living in the stars so far away. How he managed the isolations, she had no idea. He’d grown up in a house so full of life until there hadn’t been but he’d silently held on. Striving to be the best at what he did.

Next was the vivacious Gordon. Beams of sunshine in his hair and mischief in his eyes. He’s seen and done a lot in his short life. Days so dark with despair as his broken body healed. She’s spent many an hour sitting with him in the VA hospital watching and keeping him company as his body painfully knit itself back together again after every surgery but for all of it. He never complained with the exception of food. Just grinned and bared it though she could see the cracks. He'd come through it all, scarred and sporting a motley collection of surgical steel plates and bolts and kept on smiling.

And lastly her baby boy, Alan. Her rocket man. He’d missed so much in life. A normal childhood, school, friends and typical boyhood misadventures. First date, prom, graduation but he’d still done the family proud and held his head up high. He flew the stars and was living a dream most kids his age could only dream about. A tender age but the top of his field and he got to fly a rocket ship. What kid wouldn’t love that?

Her boys. No, her men. Through diversity and trauma they all stood tall and together.

Pushing away from the wall she went to them and was lost in a sea of hugs.

8-8-8

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfict #fanfiction #fanfic #TaG Bloodlines #vegetacide #flufflember #Virgil Tracy #kayo kyrano #virgil/kayo #Virgil X Kayo #Scott Tracy #Alan Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Grandma Tracy

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