#Virgil being a disaster

[an-organized-confusion]

Back to thinking about the Gymrat!AU again...

But like a shitty distillation of these relationships’ ignition points.

Dukexiety - accidental assault (fight/flight reflex situation, sincere mistake)

Roceit - purposeful “assault” (with iced coffee slush and all the pettiness in the world)

#sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #(absolute disasters - the lot of them) #(the twins were on the receiving end in both cases) #(srsly think it's hilarious how roceit properly started from jan being petty and mad abt not getting a gd pizza bagel ok) #dukexiety #roceit

[all-pacas]

I finished my Rome book and have now begun one about Pompeii. I’m 65 pages in and I already love it: yes, it covers the volcano, but most of the book is about “this is what the town and daily life of it would have been like, actually.” Fascinating stuff. Things I’ve learned so far:

- The streets in Pompeii have sidewalks sometimes a meter higher than the road, with stepping stones to hop across as “crosswalks.” I’d seen some photos before. The book points out that, duh, Pompeii had no underground drainage, was built on a fairly steep incline, and the roads were more or less drainage systems and water channels in the rain.

- Unlike today, where “dining out” is expensive and considered wasteful on a budget, most people in Pompeii straight up didn’t have kitchens. You had to eat out if you were poor; only the wealthy could afford to eat at home.

- Most importantly, and I can’t believe in all the pop culture of Pompeii this had never clicked for me: Pompeii had a population between 6-35,000 people. Perhaps 2,000 died in the volcano. Contemporary sources talk about the bay being full of fleeing ships. Most people got the hell out when the eruption started. The number who died are still a lot, and it’s still gruesome and morbid, but it’s not “an entire town and everyone in it.” This also makes it difficult for archeologists, apparently (and logically): those who remained weren’t acting “normally,” they were sheltering or fleeing a volcano. One famous example is a wealthy woman covered in jewelry found in the bedroom in the glaridator barracks. Scandal! She must have been having an affair and had it immortalized in ash! The book points out that 17 other people and several dogs were also crowded in that one small room: far more likely, they were all trying to shelter together. Another example: Houses are weirdly devoid of furniture, and archeologists find objects in odd places. (Gardening supplies in a formal dining room, for example.) But then you remember that there were several hours of people evacuating, packing their belongings, loading up carts and getting out… maybe the gardening supplies were brought to the dining room to be packed and abandoned, instead of some deeper esoteric meaning. The book argues that this all makes it much harder to get an accurate read on normal life in a Roman town, because while Pompeii is a brilliant snapshot, it’s actually a snapshot of a town undergoing major evacuation and disaster, not an average day.

- Oh, another great one. Outside of a random laundry place in Pompeii, someone painted a mural with two scenes. One of them referenced Virgil’s Aeneid. Underneath that scene, someone graffiti’d a reference to a famous line from that play, except tweaked it to be about laundry. This is really cool, the book points out, because it implies that a) literacy and education was high enough that one could paint a reference and have it recognized, and b) that someone else could recognize it and make a dumb play on words about it and c) the whole thing, again, means that there’s a certain amount of literacy and familiarity with “Roman pop culture” even among fairly normal people at the time.

[delimeful]

WIBAR Intermission: Visiting Home (1/3)

G/T July Day 17: Home

this intermission has 3 parts, taking place during different points in the WIBAR timeline. this chapter takes place before LMMR/Act 2 of WIBAR! baby time :)

shoutout to nyn for inspiring the last scene with Roman at the end! 

warnings: negative assumptions, mentions of blood/hunting/injury, mild fear/nervousness, other than that it's all fluff (literally)

-

Despite the tension buzzing at the back of his skull, Virgil found that being planetside again was surprisingly… nice.

He would have preferred that it was an uninhabited area— or at least, that it wasn’t one of the only places in the universe that had aliens he really, really couldn’t afford to terrify— but he couldn’t deny that feeling the ground under his feet and the sunlight on his skin was soothing, a balm he hadn’t known he’d needed.

It wasn’t the same as Earth, not really, but Patton’s home planet was close enough to familiar that he found tension seeping from his overwrought muscles despite himself.

He shook some of the dazed contentment off, flicking a glance over his shoulder and reminding himself that if any of the locals saw him, it could spell Capital-D Disaster.

His little excursion into one of the less populated natural areas near the little port town was entirely unplanned, and all the riskier for it, but they simply hadn’t had any better options.

Patton had been putting off visiting his family for longer than anyone would have liked— first with the excuse of healing from his injuries, and then with the financial strain that had come from his crewmates dedicating the bulk of their time to searching for him, rather than doing their usual delivery and transport jobs.

(The strain of providing for an entire new off-the-books crewmate, too, Virgil knew. He tried to avoid taking up too much, resource-wise, but there was only so little he could eat before his symptoms went from barely-tolerable to unmanageable.

The adrenaline crash and resulting sprains after he’d intervened in the raiders’ attack had been a painful reminder that most days, his body felt like it was barely holding together at the seams.)

Finally, they’d managed to weave together a cover story believable enough that the trip was set in motion, with the caveat that Patton would go planetside to visit, and Virgil would stay on the ship, up in orbit, firmly out of range of discovery.

Patton hated the idea of lying to his loved ones, wanted more than anything to introduce Virgil and prove he wasn’t the monster the galaxy thought he was, but even his stubborn optimism hadn’t held up under the combined forces of the other 3/4ths of the crew.

It was too dangerous for word to get out about Virgil, especially after the close call they’d already had, narrowly averted thanks to Remyy. Between Logan’s points on the historical government response to rumors of rogue humans, Roman’s assertions that bounty hunters of all kinds would begin targeting them, and Virgil’s own intense discomfort with the idea of his existence being revealed to others when he’d only just gotten free, Patton had conceded, if a bit morosely.

So, things had proceeded according to plan… right up until Patton’s clutchmates commed in, requesting that they bring the Mindscape down so that they could fill Patton’s quarters and kitchen with a variety of gifts and supplies to remind him of home after he left.

Patton hadn’t been informed. A surprise, they’d said, meant to show their love and care for their sibling in a way that would linger as long as possible.

It was a cultural custom, apparently, and Patton’s hard headed tendencies must have run in the family, because they’d refused to take no for an answer without a good reason.

Unfortunately for the reason in question, informing them that there was another crew member onboard who couldn’t be seen by anyone else would only defeat the purpose of staying off planet in the first place.

And so, after very intense sweep of the ship to hide away any trace of Virgil’s presence, he’d swept his old cloak around his shoulders, followed Logan offboard, and let himself be guided to what seemed to be an unoccupied area of the coastal jungle that surrounded the local populace.

Logan had requested he stay in the general area until he returned from corralling the busybody relatives, and then rushed back to the ship where Roman waited, looking more harried than Virgil had ever seen him.

It was an awkward, stressful situation, sure. But he still couldn’t help but marvel a little at the thick, dark fronds of the trees and the almost powdery texture of the grey-white sand beneath his feet.

He hadn’t gotten very many chances to actually appreciate the wonder of being in space, on alien planets, with how much of his stay so far had either been locked in cages aboard ships or on the run, too busy trying to survive to take in the scenery.

Running his fingers over the corkscrew-patterned bark of one of the nearby tree trunks, Virgil didn’t notice the slight rustling of a nearby brush.

—

Marren had thought the alien an intruder at first, had skidded to a halt and narrowly avoided toppling out of the underbrush right in front of them.

Behind her, Robbyn and Denel tumbled against her back with the beginnings of peeped complaints at the interruption of their game.

“Ssst!” Marren made a whistle that was more air than sound, her baby feathers ruffling up in pre-emptive upset. “Quiet, there’s a stranger!”

Unlike any other game, her playmates immediately went silent, eyes growing round and nervous. They all knew better than to catch the attention of a maybe-dangerous unfamiliar alien.

Especially now. One of the older kids had told horror stories about smugglers when the grown-ups weren’t listening, insisting that straying fledglings would get all their feathers shredded off and fed to the horrible monsters at the bottom of the Spacesea, where starlight and ships alike couldn’t reach.

They’d gotten in big trouble for the tall tales, but the story had already been taken up by the waves and couldn’t be squashed, especially with the fearful but dedicated belief of younger fledglings.

“Is it a monster?” Denel asked, already looking more fluff than form.

Marren… couldn’t really tell.

They were huge, even bigger than the Draellex spacefarer who had come to do a presentation for her class last season, but most of their features were also obscured by the long, deep grey cloak that they were swathed in.

“They’ve got hands,” she reported instead, because the stranger was touching various plants and rocks with nubby, strangely smooth fingers. “No claws, though.”

“Maybe a trader ship came early?” Robbyn offered thoughtfully. Their downy soft pink feathers were the least fluffed up between the three of them, their gaze focused on the alien with an intense curiosity.

“We woulda seen it, right?” Marren replied dubiously, before going quiet for a moment as the hooded head of the stranger turned and paused as though listening.

She didn’t continue until they turned back to their slow inspection of the wildlife, letting out a tiny peep-peep-peep of relief. “The only ship that came down is Uptel Patton’s, and he’s only got two playmates.”

She’d only met one of her Uptel’s friends in person, and only when she was a baby baby, way before her first molt, so she barely remembered it, but there were plenty of pictures in her Elder Uptel Farrun’s home. Patton’s parents were always happy to talk about their spacefarer son, and Marren always got a fun trinket from her Uptel when he visited.

Well. Almost always.

He’d seemed very distracted when she’d seen him this morning, enough that he’d barely noticed her amongst the many relatives that had swarmed to greet him after his longer than usual absence.

Something bad had happened to him, Marren had been told, which had made his parents’ home feel all sad-grief-loss whenever she visited, but he was all better now.

She wasn’t so sure. Everyone around him had felt like relief-joy-kinship at the sight of him, sure, but her Uptel had never flinched away from preening before.

“Maybe he got a new one?” Denel asked, still half-hidden behind Robbyn but not quite as frightened.

Marren made a considering chirp, and then began shuffling under the wiry branches as quietly as possible, seeking out a closer bush.

“Where are you going?” both of her playmates asked in very different tones.

“Gonna look closer,” she replied, and then froze as the answer carried farther than she meant it to.

The stranger turned sharper this time, and searched the clearing with tiny back-and-forth movements of their head.

“Patton?” they called after a moment, and Marren almost startled back in shock: the alien had spoken Uptel Patton’s actual name, not the Common version, and sounded uncannily close to an actual Ampen.

If it weren’t for how impossibly big the stranger was, she might have thought it was a simple prank, a couple of older kids stacked on top of each other under a form-disguising cloak.

Her gaze trailed down and finally focused on the familiar glow coming from the shadowed neckline of the cloak. She would know that glow anywhere!

“They’ve gotta special charm!” she crowed, and pushed past the branches to dart out into the open, intent on inspecting her Uptel’s newest friend.

Patton’s friend stumbled back hard with a sharp inhale, and Marren abruptly remembered that it wasn’t polite to startle people, especially strangers, and slowed to a stop. She angled her head up to try and peer into the shadows of the hood, squinting her eyes almost closed in as innocent and friendly a look as possible.

“I’m Marren,” she introduced herself, using the little bit of Common that her Uptel had taught her. “The stars greet you and so do I!”

That kind of greeting was more for actually being up in space with all the stars, but she figured it was the thought that counted.

Patton’s friend muttered something in an unfamiliar language, their tone soft, and then lowered themself to a seated position, much slower than they’d moved before. “My name is Virgil. It’s… nice to sea you?”

Marren let out a peal of chirping laughter, nearly knocking herself off balance with the force of her amusement.

That was definitely one of Uptel Patton’s friends, alright. He was the only bondrelative she had who put silly word jokes in his greetings like that.

“Can I sea you?” she shot back brightly, and when that didn’t seem to make it through, she pretended to move an invisible hood down from her own head.

Friend Virgil went all stiff for a moment, before speaking again. “I don’t think… uh, that’s not a good idea. I’m… I’m shy.”

Marren was distracted for a moment by puzzling through the words; it was an odd combination of Common and Ampen words, some of them a little smushed together until they almost seemed like a new word entirely.

Once the meaning behind the answer registered, though, she made a long, protesting whistle. “I’m not gonna be mean to you! Denel’s shy, too, you guys can get along!”

“Denel?” Friend Virgil echoed, again pronouncing the name eerily accurately, and Marren heard a little peep of alarm from behind her.

Antennae twitching with frustration, she turned and gave the bushes her best irritated stare, fluffing up indignantly. “They’re Patton’s friend! They’ve gotta be nice to me, I’m his favorite telit! Stop acting so new-hatched!”

“You’re his only little cousin,” Robbyn was speaking to her as they hopped into view, but their wide eyes were locked on Friend Virgil like they’d just found a shiny new stone. “Can they talk?”

“Kinda,” Marren chirped back, since it seemed like Friend Virgil knew more of the spacefarer tongue than their native one. “I know enough space words to translate! Probably.”

“You’re going to hurt your throat,” Robbyn cautioned in their best know-it-all voice. Marren was saved from having to answer by the thud of Denel tripping his own way out of the bush.

With his underlayer all fluffed out like that, it was no wonder that he accidentally rolled a few feather-lengths along the ground, squawking in high-pitched, babyish alarm as he tumbled.

Friend Virgil leaned forward so quickly that even Marren peeped in surprise, but all they did was set a humongous cupped hand next to Denel to keep him from toppling any further. Denel pulled all his limbs in with a panicked squeak as he bumped into the helping hand, and turned his head to peer up at Friend Virgil nervously.

“Safe and sound,” Friend Virgil crooned, in the sort of lullaby sing-song tone that was usually used to soothe hatchlings. “Okay, good, okay?”

It took Denel a stunned moment to respond, but when he chirped affirmative, the waver in his whistle had faded to almost nothing. He slowly uncurled, and even reached out for balance as he got back upright, looking absolutely awestruck.

He was way more aether-sensitive than most fledglings, Marren recalled, which meant that Friend Virgil must have been radiating some deeply trustworthy energy. As always, she had been totally right! Of course Patton’s friend was nice!

Marren wasted no time in spinning back around and darting up to Friend Virgil’s legs, giving them her best pleading expression.

“See? We can all be friends, you’re big-nice and nobody will be mean to you! Please please please?”

—

Virgil was not good with kids.

Specifically, he wasn’t good at saying no to kids.

Back home, they’d always picked up on it the moment they saw him, like sharks catching the scent of blood in the water, except the sharks were twelve year olds and the blood was Virgil’s inability to tell them not to draw on him in sharpie.

He’d finally found something that humans and aliens had in common, it seemed, because Marren– the apparent leader of the little group– had immediately figured out exactly how to use the Ampen version of puppy dog eyes against him. It was like nature had designed them as adorable feathery pom-pom creatures as a tactic designed to target him, specifically.

He hadn’t stood a chance.

As such, he found himself seated in the middle of the small clearing, his hood lowered and face exposed for anyone to see, being used as an actual, literal human jungle gym by a bunch of chirping alien fuzzballs.

The playtime racket must have been attracting more, because it felt like every time he looked up, three or four entirely new bundles of fluff had appeared, racing around his feet or climbing up the side of his cloak, chattering between themselves in strings of tweets and whistles.

The namecall they used for him wasn’t quite accurate, sounding more like ‘frrr-kul’ with a rolling trill followed by a chirp that only occasionally resembled the latter half of his name. They seemed to have a much harder time than Patton making the non-bird sort of syllables, which made sense, seeing as they were itty bitty babies.

“Frrrr-kul!” one of them called gleefully, summoning him over to the other side of the clearing for the newest round of whatever it was they were playing.

Virgil wasn’t ashamed to admit that something in his chest squeezed a bit as another fledgling turned dizzying little loop-de-loops in front of him, presumably leading him over to the new spot. For once, the heart palpitations he was experiencing around strange aliens were almost entirely cuteness-induced.

Almost, because there was still a solid chunk of his brain panicking viciously about how tiny and soft and fragile they all were, hence him moving at the pace of a seasick slug.

Marren had put forward a half-hearted complaint about how slow he was moving, to no avail. As it turned out, the only thing more compelling to him than a kid’s heartfelt request was the fear of accidentally hurting one of them.

It had taken him at least fifteen minutes just to stop flinching every time one of them fell or flung themself off of his knee or shoulder or— for one very stealthy candidate— his head, only to tumble lightly back to the ground unharmed, the impact entirely cushioned by their fluff.

He’d caught the first five or six on sheer instinct, which had only prompted even more to partake in the fun new ‘game’, until he gave up and accepted his fate as a living launch pad. Thankfully for his stress levels and long-term heart health, they had moved onto another game quickly enough.

He was slightly less thankful that every game so far had included him being scampered over, without exception, but he should have figured as much just from being friends with Patton, honestly.

His latest role seemed to be a very ill patient, as one of Marren’s friends walked around—and on— him carefully, calling out chirped instructions and sending the rest of the participants scrambling into the nearby brush. Within a few moments, they’d return with leaves, twigs, and other forest detritus, which would then be painstakingly applied to the top of his hand, or his chin, or wherever else the ‘doctor’ gestured to. Half the time, the makeshift bandages would flutter off the moment Virgil shifted even a little, prompting chitters of delight as the kids hurried to re-apply them.

Still better than any healthcare he’d gotten on Earth, honestly.

Seeing as his current job was to lay in place morosely like that guy from the Operation board game, he eventually closed his eyes and let himself relax a little, trying to hide an irrepressible closed-lip smile.

A few rounds later, he heard a chorus of what sounded like Patton’s favorite greeting chirp, but in a range of much higher pitches. He cracked his eyes open, expecting another gaggle of fledglings had showed up, and instead found that Logan was standing at the edge of the clearing, arms all dropped limply to his sides in shock.

Virgil went tense, only managing to repress his flinch because a good portion of his brain was still dedicated to monitoring where all the babies were around him, and currently at least ten were clinging onto his person. “Okay, listen. This was not my idea.”

Logan carefully tucked his hands behind his back in what Virgil first mistook for a polite gesture, only to emerge with what was unmistakably the portable camera he used whenever he was collecting video data for later.

“...Really?”

Whirr-click. Logan didn’t even bother looking apologetic as he began recording Virgil’s pint-sized tormentors. “If Patton didn’t get a memento of this, he would never forgive me, facetiously speaking.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil slowly shifted up to his elbows, a startling amount of leaves fluttering down from his hair. A tentative hand feeling around in his hair revealed a fluffy stowaway, who peeped in displeasure as Virgil carefully disentangled them.

Talk about having a bird’s nest for hair. That was probably a sign that he needed a trim, but for now he could only laugh to himself, using two fingers to try and soothe the ruffled feathers of the fledgling that had apparently seen his head as prime real estate.

“You’re… very good with them,” Logan commented, shuffling closer with uncharacteristic tentativeness. “Is it normal to take on a parental role for children that aren’t under your care on Earth?”

Virgil snorted, and then leaned forward a little to help keep one of the more tenacious fledglings clinging to him from losing their grip. “It depends on the person, but honestly? A lot of humans are total suckers for anything cute making baby sounds, human or not. Sometimes to the point that the keener wildlife will take advantage of it and lead us to babies that are injured or out of reach because they know that odds are, a human will help.”

“Truly? Non-domesticated species, as well?” Logan replied, visibly distracted from his slow approach by the implications. “Cooperative dynamics between sapient species and local fauna are present on many planets, but for almost all studied Deathworlds, such a thing is unheard of. The risk is higher in harsher environments, where a much more competitive nature is required for survival.”

“Yeah, for real. I used to work as an assistant… uh. An assistant animal-healer, and people were always bringing in abandoned babies they’d found. Sometimes they were actually in need of help, but sometimes they definitely weren’t,” Virgil huffed a little at the memories, holding still as a fledgling took a running leap to jump from one of his knees to the other. “It was well-intentioned, though. Lots of people hate to see a baby left alone and jump to conclusions, since you’d never do that with a human infant.”

Logan’s hands twitched, and Virgil carefully shrugged one shoulder, giving him permission to record the information.

“Just make sure you don’t write stuff about babies or kids down where anyone could get to it,” he cautioned, chewing on the edge of his lip. “I trust you, but I don’t trust, y’know… the rest of space. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Correct,” Logan confirmed, having heard that exact catchphrase from Virgil probably about twelve times a week. “Am I alright to approach?”

“What?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, of course, just be careful. I mean, you’re definitely safer for them to be around than me.”

There was a relieved angle to Logan’s ears as he stepped forward, nimbly avoiding a few of the fledglings chasing each other back and forth like feathered tumbleweeds. “I disagree. They seem quite safe in your hands,” he said. “I have no doubt that Patton would be ecstatic to know that you’ve managed to make some friends amongst his kin despite our need for secrecy.”

Right. His cover had been blown five minutes in by the Ampen equivalent of a bunch of grade-schoolers. Crap.

“Let your mind remain at ease,” Logan added, either correctly reading the panic on his face or just guessing from the not-inconsiderable experience he had with Virgil. “With Ampens this young, I’m certain that your positive impression as a playmate will be the bulk of what they mention to their families. I’ve already heard a few of them refer to you as ‘Patton’s shy friend,’ so I imagine most will come up with the rest of the answer on their own assumptions.”

"'Patton's shy friend'?" Virgil felt his ears redden as his face heated up, and there was a chorus of delighted whistle-squeals from the nearest fledglings.

“You change colors just like Uptel Patton!” Marren shouted excitedly, and, well.

There were at least four different species of alien he knew of that shifted colors in all sorts of ways, from a gradual chameleon shift to the rapid flush of an octopus. This was one trait that wasn’t likely to make anyone think ‘Human’.

“Do another color!” A small harmony of encouraging peeps and eager gazes.

“Uh…,” Virgil cast a helpless look of his own Logan’s way. “I mean, I can probably do purple if I hold my breath for long enough?”

“Alright,” Logan cut in urgently,“I think it’s time that Virgil get back to the ship, actually, you’ll have to play with him again the next time we come to visit. Yes, yes, everyone off now…”

–

Miraculously, they’d managed to get through the entire impromptu visit without either of Patton’s flockmates seeing any errant belongings, broken cabinets, or any other indications of the highly illegal and infamous Deathworlder they definitely had onboard.

Roman let out an exhausted snort, trying not to shift impatiently as he stood by the boarding platform and waited for Logan to return with Virgil. If Patton was there, he would have given him a disappointed look for being so blatantly untrusting, but he wasn’t, and it had been a long day, so Roman could be on edge if he wanted to, okay?!

Thankfully, Logan chose that moment to step out from the shade of the forested area, exchanging an assessing look with Roman before deeming the path clear and beckoning Virgil to follow him on board.

The Human padded after Logan, footsteps eerily quiet as always, and… huh. He looked a lot less stressed than he’d seemed when they’d all but shoved him off the ship a few hours ago. Roman tried not to feel immensely suspicious about it, but he glanced down to check his hands for blood anyhow.

He was mostly sure that the Human didn’t actually have any murderous designs, especially not on anyone from Patton’s hometown, but they’d set him loose in a random forest with little to no guidance. Roman couldn’t rule out the idea that Virgil had entertained himself by hunting down some of the local fauna or something.

There was nothing, though, and so he forced his eyes away and checked in briefly with Logan instead. See? He could be cordial when he wanted to! He was a beacon of toleration, okay?

The claim fell a little flat even in his own mind, but he was promptly distracted by the tiniest hint of a whistle. He straightened up, alarm shooting through him as he swiveled his head this way and that, searching for any surprise witnesses.

His gaze fell on the Human as Virgil passed him to board the ship, and Roman stiffened at the sight of three fluffy bundles perched in the swoop of the Human’s hood. “Stop right there!”

Virgil went still, shoulders hunching upward like a bristle and eyes bizarrely wide, and Roman let his tail scrape from side to side for a moment as he glowered, only growing more certain of his guilt.

“I knew it, those are fledglings! Let them go this instant,” he started, planning to end with a suitable threat to ensure the safety of the smallest and most vulnerable of Patton’s kin, only for the Human to somehow go even more stiff and frozen.

“Oh my god, where?” He hunched over slightly, eyes flickering down to scan over his front and arms. “Are they okay?”

Roman pulled up short, admittedly disoriented at the show of clear and abrupt concern. One of the fledglings cheeped in dismay, and Virgil’s head tilted, following the sound.

“Guys, that’s not safe,” he groaned, and then repeated it in Ampen tongue. “Not safe. Not good, not safe, okay?”

His hand twitched up like he was going to reach for them, but then he hesitated for a moment, before slowly turning around so that his hood faced Roman. “Can you help them out? I know they’ve got all the feathers and stuff to keep them safe, but I still don’t want… I don’t want to jostle the hood and knock them out or something.”

“I… yes,” Roman said, feeling like he’d just been hit by a paralyzer shot. He reached out and scooped the fledglings out of their makeshift nest, watching as Virgil’s shoulders grew more and more taut. The Human didn’t trust him, but he held still anyways. “You’ve got, ah. Leaves and twigs. In your head pocket.”

“I bet I do,” he muttered, before taking a few slightly too-fast steps away once he’d checked that his fuzzy passengers had been evacuated. With soft, cautious movements, he patted down the rest of himself, including his other pockets and even the folds of his overcloak. “I think I’m good.”

“That was very dangerous,” Roman scolded, looking down at the trio with disapproval.

Virgil shuffled slightly, looking at him more directly than he usually did. After a moment, he spoke. “They’re fine, right? It’s not their fault, they just think it’s a game.They’re… they’re only babies.”

This was what worry looked like on a Human, Roman realized with a jolt, and managed to choke down his initial offense at the very idea that he would hurt them. He’d assumed the same at first glance, hadn’t he? Virgil had never seen him with kits before, and didn't know very much about him. Roman hadn’t exactly been sharing information or encouraging any bonding, and it wasn’t like the Mindscape had provided very many opportunities for interacting with younglings thus far.

Stars, he hoped there hadn’t been any kids on the smuggler ship. The very idea made him sick.

“Of course they’re fine,” he replied a bit shortly, cradling them a little closer. “Kits will be kits. They didn’t mean any harm, like you said.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good,” Virgil said, some of that odd tension falling away. He looked back down at the kids. “Uh. Bye, little guys. Stay safe.”

He mimicked a farewell trill with uncanny accuracy, and the fledglings all echoed it with varying levels of mournfulness. Virgil waved as he edged his way up the ship’s ramp backwards, like he thought the kids would ambush him the moment he took his eyes off of them.

Seeing as these three had somehow snuck past a Human’s senses, Roman almost couldn’t blame him.

“When I next see Patton, I’m going to tell him to have a serious talk with you all about being too adventurous, you hear me? Crewmates are not for climbing,” Roman lectured as he carried them back to the main path. He paused to think about how hypocritical that lesson would be coming from Patton, who took any excuse to perch on Virgil. “Oh, for stars’ sake.”

Well, whatever. This was just a one-off. What were the odds they would ever be bringing the Human back here, anyhow?

#wibar #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #sanders sides fic #space au #humans are deathworlders #wibar intermission #WIBAR INT 5 #my writing #writing #baby time

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-02-22

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Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✑ Clandestine F*cks by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Courting Disaster by michelleleewise • 14+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You are the cousin of THE Tony Stark, so when you enter a relationship with the God of Mischief himself, you are determined to keep it low-key, much to his chagrin. But your lover's meddling brother has other plans…."

✑ Virgil￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by coldnique • 〔F〕 •

Summary: {…}

✑ Use Me as You Please￨Prt. II￨Prt. III￨Prt. IV by lokisprettygirl • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When Loki gets mad, he loves to take it all out on you, and you absolutely love it."

✑ A Calm in the Storm by joyful-enchantress • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "You escape to the rooftop [searching for] solitude, [in an effort] to forget about a certain trickster god..."

✑ Absolutely Dripping by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F᜶E〕 •

Summary: "A very wet towel-clad god interrupts your prank."

✑ Accidental Confessions by lokidokieokie • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "After [collecting a mysterious] vile, the team unwinds on the quinjet back to the Tower. What happens when Tony decides [it's] a good idea to unleash whatever [is] inside?"

✑ Admit It by fluffyfantasticducky • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: "Loki likes you more than he's liked anyone before, [only he's too proud to admit it]. So when it turns out you already [know], will he [find the courage to confess]?"

✑ Aren't We a Pair by lizmaximoff • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "After being transported in the midst of battle, you're left to ponder on the nature of yours and Loki's relationship. What happens once you're reunited?"

✑ Asgard's A** by give-me-a-moose • 16+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki catches your eyes wandering to a certain teammate. That gives him some ideas."

✑ Blame It on the Rain by ijuststareatstuffhereok89 • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "You and Loki... can't stand one another, and after one-too-many pranks [go] awry [amid] your 'merry war,' [Fury punishes you both] with menial labour, and the weather reports are predicting a literal storm to supplement the one stirring within you…."

✑ Bonded by michelleleewise • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After an incident on one of your missions, loki makes a decision...."

✑ Butterflies by beyondspaceandstars • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Who knew that pulling pranks would lead to love confessions?"

✑ Carrara Marble by coldnique • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: After believing you'll need to postpone your anniversary, Loki surprises you with a trip to Louvre.

✑ Chains by tiltheendwilliwrite • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: {…}

✑ Chardes by clandestineloki • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: "The Avengers are in a very heated game of charades, and Tony decides it’s time Loki knew how much you like him."

✑ Chilling Love by coffee-with-bucky • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Your ice powers eventually reveal Loki's Jotun form."

✑ Close to You by michelleleewise • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "You work in stark tower and have fallen hard for a certain god, but he would never feel the same... would he..."

✑ Commitments by michelleleewise • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "Your feelings for Loki have grown the closer you get, so you decide to ask him out..."

✑ Crush by iamnotorginalphil • 〔F〕 •

Summary: Fed up with his brother's moping, Thor "resolves" the situation by informing you of Loki's feelings towards you, prompting the god to retreat in embarrassment. You chase after him, but will he believe that you share his affection?

✑ Drunken Words by lokidokieokie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "If there was one thing that… always [got] on your nerves, [it's] what the press... dubbed 'Stark Parties'..., what else could you [and Loki] do besides get plastered and reveal all your secrets?"

✑ Eavesdropper by oliwrites • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki cant help but overhear your conversation with Natasha"

✑ Feelings

✑ Finest Asgardian Ale by lizmaximoff • 18+ • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "It's Wanda Maximoff's 30th Birthday party, and a little bit of Asgardian liquor leads to some secret confessions coming to light."

✑ Green Dress, the￨Prt. II by peacefulpianist • 〔E᜶F᜶C〕 •

Summary: When Stark invites you to one of his infamous parties, Nat suggests you wear the green dress you bought months ago. Perhaps it will be enough to inspire a certain god to finally make a move.

✑ Green Knit Sweater by springdandelixn • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You're angry because of Tony's stupidity, [luckily] Loki has a way to calm you down."

✑ His Colour by rorilisa • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "[You challenge Loki's 'ownership' of green with your] very own green dress... [leading to] months of flirtatious comments and sexual tension [to] finally reach a breaking point."

✑ I'm Yours by lokisprettygirl • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When you catch you boyfriend Loki flirting with a supermodel at Tony's birthday bash, you snap."

✑ Injured

✑ Intoxicated by clandestineloki • 18+ • 〔E᜶M〕 •

Summary: When you accidentally inhale for an aphrodisiac in front of Loki, you flee, not wanting to be around him and your current state. However, he finds you offering a solution to what else you.

✑ Knight in Shining Leather by coldnique • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: When you're in over your head, Loki swoops in to save you from disaster.

✑ Let's Just Have Fun by irishhappiness • 〔A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You just wanted to have fun but your boyfriend decided differently."

✑ Light as a Feather by clandestineloki • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "...some ropes, a blindfold, and you and Loki in absolutely no clothes. The possibilities are endless."

✑ Mischief Mission by lizmaximoff • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "In the heat of battle, Loki transports the both of you into a weird a spot."

Movie Night

✑ My Little Princess by tricksterlokilaufeyson • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: {…}

✑ No Expert by give-me-a-moose • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Loki ends up in the med bay, and you swear [you'll] kill him."

✑ Not Fair by peacefulpianist •

Summary: {…}

✑ Sinful Desire by michelleleewise • 18+ • 〔E᜶M〕 •

Summary: You had pined for Loki for some time, accepting that it was a dream, when an accidental encounter brings new revelations...

✑ So Beautiful by lokiisdaddyblog • 18+ • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When being amongst Gods and Goddesses leaves you feeling a bit insecure, Loki reminds you just how beautiful you are."

✑ Sound of Love, the by fluffyfantasticducky • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: "Loki now an Avenger, is quite the reclusive and introverted member in the Avenger's compound and for someone who likes peace and quiet, it's ironic how smitten he is for the loudest member of the team."

Stop and Smell the Flowers

✑ Suprise by michelleleewise • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "Not sure if you were coming down with something, you decided to go to the doctor..."

✑ Thinking of You by michelleleewise • 18+ • 〔E᜶M〕 •

Summary: "Every time you see Loki, your thoughts run wild... unbeknownst to you, he can hear them too..."

✑ Wait a Minute by give-me-a-moose • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki discovers a new side of you, [causing] a moment of crisis."

✑ Warming Embrace by christinebloodwrittings • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "Loki usually doesn't like to have blood on his hands, but when it comes to you, he throws his rational thinking overboard."

✑ Welcome Home by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki comes back early from a mission. Smutty, sleepy mischief ensues..."

✑ What Ails You by maple-seed • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: "Loki is your [best friend], which leaves you struggling when you want something more."

✑ What's Your Type?￨Prt. II by lokisprettygirl • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: Gossiping, with Wanda, never lead to anything good. When the topic shifts to your taste, in men, you can't help but think about a certain dark, charming, yet mysterious God.

✑ Whisky, My King? by loving-barnes • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "Loki finds an unexpected surprise [waiting for him] in the compound's library."

✑ Adore You by lokisgoodgirl • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Allow Me by lokisgoodgirl • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Always Forever by infinitystoner • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Black Cat by dyns33 • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Boop by coffee-with-bucky • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Cheerleader by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Cold Coffee by coffee-with-bucky • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ End Credits by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 •

✑ Even Gods Dream by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Favourite Mortal by mostly-marvel-musings • 〔F〕 •

✑ Frigga's Wedding Gift by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Frogs

✑ He is Sober by iamnotorginalphil • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ I Have a Confession by oliwrites • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ I Looooove Youuuu by michelleleewise • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ I Put a Spell on You by goddessofmischief • 〔F〕 •

✑ In a Different Light by psychospore • 〔F〕 •

✑ Jealous by iamnotorginalphil • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Just Friends

✑ Kindness by iamnotorginalphil • 〔F〕 •

✑ Little Mischiefs by lokiisdaddyblog • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Loki's Bachelor Party by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Loki's Special Night by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Lovers' Perjuries by idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ My Beloved by christinebloodwrittings • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Naughty by iamnotorginalphil • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Not the Alcohol by asgardwinter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Our Future by your-highnessmarvel • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Public Display of Affection by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Purrr... by michelleleewise • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sensitive Soul by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Seventeen Lemons by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ So Innocent by clandestineloki • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Star by iamnotorginalphil • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Tough Human by asgardwinter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Truth or Dare by michelleleewise • 〔F〕 •

✑ What the F*ck Are You Wearing? by iamnotorginalphil • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Worthy by peterman-spideyparker • 〔C〕 •

✑ Yeah "Friends" by peterman-spideyparker • 〔F〕 •

✑ Being in Love w/ Loki

✑ Dating Loki would include… by witchthewriter • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Loki Odinson Master Index

Authors: @anonymousfiction211 || @asgardwinter || @beyondspaceandstars || @christinebloodwrittings || @clandestineloki || @coldnique || @dyns33 ||@fluffyfantasticducky || @give-me-a-moose ||@iamnotoriginalphil || @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 || @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 || @infinitystoner || @irishhappiness || @joyful-enchantress || @laufeyamp || @lizmaximoff || @lokidokieokie || @lokiisdaddyblog || @lokisgoodgirl || @maple-seed || @michelleleewise ||@oliwrites || @peacefulpianist || @peterman-spideyparker || @psychospore || @rorilisa || @springdandelixn || @tilltheendwilliwrite || @tricksterlokilaufeyson || @witchthewriter || @your-highnessmarvel ||

#Loki x Reader #Loki x Female Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki x You #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader #Loki Laufeyson x Y/N #Loki Laufeyson x You #Loki Odinson x Reader #Loki Odinson x Female Reader #Loki Odinson x Y/N #Loki Odinson x You #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Female Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Y/N #Tom Hiddleston x You #Marvel Fanfiction #Marvel Fanfic #Loki Fanfiction #Loki Fanfic #Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction #Tom Hiddleston Fanfic

[goldnskyart]

Sanders Sides cooking headcanons cause for some reason I was thinking about them-

Roman: a great cook but only cooks somewhat strange and creative things, ask him to follow a recipe and it’ll be inedible

Logan: a perfect alright cook, can make literally anything as long as he’s got a recipe but without one he’s completely lost

Virgil: not as bad of a cook as you’d think, with a clear enough recipe he does great, but it stresses him out so he rarely does it. No one else knows he can cook tho cause he’s terrified of being judged so he doesn’t share

Patton: can cook like three meals, no recipe needed it’s all in his head, anything else however will end in disaster. He’s a really good baker tho

Remus: a great cook, but only to his own taste, which means he’s banned from the kitchen so he doesn’t poison anyone again.

Janus: a wonderful cook most things he makes are delicious, but you never know what you’ll get. He loves disguising foods as other foods to mess with everyone, it’s usually tasty enough for them to not mind too much

#I’m working on just sharing all my silly thoughts as they come to me #virgil sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #sandersides #sanders sides headcanon

[gumnut-logic]

I need to tell you something (Bit 1)

From this prompt :D a little random virgil!whump before breakfast.

-o-o-o-

Virgil tripped over a chunk of masonry and nearly fell flat on his face. At the last second he caught himself and only staggered.

For the zillionth time in his career, he thanked the specialised rubber in his boots. They made him slightly less agile in the field, but he had compensated over time and his boots had saved so much skin and bone they had proven themselves essential and a blessing.

He blinked, the grey of post-disaster blurring a moment. Scott was in the distance liaising with the GDF. Virgil knew he would much rather be pulling people out from under the rubble, but they were at the stage of the mission where ‘liaising’ was necessary. A good part of the time John managed to handle that, but onsite it was usually Scott.

You would think Virgil’s calm and calculating mind would be better suited to speaking to the local authorities than Scott, who despite being an excellent commander had been known to fly off the handle at the occasional idiot. However, Virgil had also been known to calmly ignore idiots and just do the job of saving whoever needed saving at the time.

It was probably the incident where Virgil had backed Firefly over the top of some guy’s car because the idiot refused to move it. In Virgil’s view it was simple practicality.

Scott and John did the majority of liaising from that point on. Apparently some people did not agree with Virgil’s efficiencies.

A grumbling thought. Didn’t stop Scott from torching a car or two with One’s exhaust.

It was a matter of style, apparently.

“Virgil, what are you doing?” John’s cool voice was ever reassuring as it bounced down from orbit.

“I need to speak to Scott.”

Scott blurred again as he gesticulated with aggravated arms. Great, he was pissed about something.

“Is there something wrong?” There was sudden suspicion in John’s tone.

Virgil grunted at him. “Just need to speak to Scott.”

While Virgil loved John with all his being, Scott was the big brother Virgil was drawn to when he needed help. Scott was his leader, best friend, support, someone he couldn’t do without.

Virgil had a problem? He went to Scott.

“Scott?”

The gesticulation stopped and his big brother turned. “Virgil? What? You’re supposed to be on the east side.”

“I know.” He swallowed. “But I have to tell you something.”

Blue eyes stared at him through two layers of plexiglass, his brother frowning.

“Excuse me, Commander, but you still need to move your craft.”

Virgil blinked away blur and realised Scott had been talking to two people, not one. One was GDF, yes, but the other was some guy dressed in a suit. His expression was one of outrage.

Oh, great, one of those.

“What is it, Thunderbird Two?”

Yay for name dropping, muscle flexing, and…he located Thunderbird One and sure enough, she was perched on the road, blocking a fancy looking car.

Hmm, Virgil could whip up a Firefly. She’d climb nicely over that polished hood.

“Virgil, are you okay?” A gloved hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Huh?” Turning his head back to his brother, the world took a moment to catch up. Oh. Urgh. “Um.” His stomach clenched.

“Virgil!” Two hands were suddenly holding his arms. “What the-?”

“I’ve been shot.”

The specialised leather of his boots did nothing to help as his legs suddenly decided they no longer wanted to hold him up.

But strong arms disagreed and as his big brother caught him, he knew he’d made the right decision to tell Scott. Scott would look after him. Scott always did.

He did yell, though. Virgil attempted to blink away the blur but this time it was persistent and wouldn’t clear. It only got worse.

Scott was calling his name, and swearing, so much swearing. And the other guy, the guy with the car…

Virgil really needed to construct a Firefly and trash that guy’s car just to shut him up.

But as the world faded, he focussed on Scott’s voice.

His big brother always knew what to do.

-o-o-o-

Next

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic #nothing much #just a little virgil!whump #whump #I always end up writing foggy brain #maybe because I exist in foggy brain far too often #Scott always savees the day #Virgil will always go to Scott #he loves them all #but Scott is Scott

[edutainer2022]

This came out of the blue, as I don't usually do the de-aging AU. Don't ask me about the physics of it - something, something Fischler is an idiot. It's mostly about the the emotional reactions and ramifications. So, in a flash of explosion Scott is three... again. The family navigate their feelings about it, dealing with a confused child. Virgil and John discuss the what-ifs and what-nots. Scotty gets better eventually, or maybe worse... From a certain point of view.

A bow to @janetm74 , whose takes on the trope are always fascinating.

WAY LEADS ON TO WAY

It took some coaxing and a promise of pie to pry the child away from Virgil. Blue eyes, too big for the small face, were full of fear and reoccurring tears. The tiny body was trembling and skinny arms clung to Virgil's flanel shirt ever since the device blew up. Virgil didn't mind one bit, but they needed to run scans and tests making sure the boy... Scott was okay. Or as okay as could be, considering he was now about 25 years younger than should be.

Everyone froze as the boy asked for "Momma and Virgie" the first time and burst into tears. It, surprisingly, took Virgil's voice to dissuade the meltdown, as he was gleefully identified as "Dada" and got a little limpet attached to his torso. The flash of pain in Dad's, actual Dad's, eyes was not lost on either Virgil or Grandma. Virgil hugged the child closer, suddenly self-conscious.

Brains was already deep in the schematics of the malfunctioned device, confiscated earlier that day from a disaster site that happened to be one of Fischler's labs. Kayo was looking stormy, plotting possible bodily harm, although, knowing Fischler, not even enhanced interrogation could  yield reliable information on what happened and how to reverse the effects asap.

John watched Virgil with a now three year old Scotty, his expression unreadable. Eos was already tasked with simulations for reverse engineering the device. It being a Fischler's concoction, they couldn't risk hurting Scott as they would try to get him "back". Alan was shocked and looked a lot younger himself. Grandma hugged him with a reassuring word.

Gordon's natural skill with small kids proved handy, as he was quick to whip out Alan’s old toys from Neptune knew where and produced a heap of his own plushies. The little boy was suitably distracted and involved into play, making vroom-vroom noises with a dinosaur on a Lego plane. The window of calm didn't last long, though, as now little Scotty, obviously tired and confused, became cranky again and cried for Momma and Virgie. Virgil looked up at Dad, at a loss. The child obviously didn't remember much beyond being  'cotty, "this many fingers" old, Mom, and having a baby brother. Jeff, watching the boy with anguished yearning so far, as he got scared and ran to Virgil the first time around, stepped up again. The gruff words got the child shy at first, but Dad was patient explaining to Scotty "Momma and Virgie" were away on a long walk, so Scotty was left in charge at home, like a big boy. There's was a fair measure of tears in the rough gravel that strained Jeff's voice. All colors of eyes around were bright with tears too.

But the trick worked and after a moment of the tiny face frowning and considering more crying, Jeff was declared "Gan'pa!". The boy climbed into his lap, where he was now asleep, wrapped in Alan’s favorite childhood blanket. The small face relaxed from the strain and tears dried out - Scotty looked so sweet and happy.

It was decided to settle the child in Dad's room for the night. The infirmary, barren and unfamiliar, could scare him. And it would be more comfortable for Jeff to watch over the boy - a duty he vehemently refused to yield to any of his sons, who all volunteered readily. Gordon whisked Alan away for some brotherly soothing, as the kid was visibly shaken in the face of loosing biggest brother to the child he once was.

John squinted, eyes darting between Dad, doting and cooing over the tiny bundle of blankets, space-worn features softened and instantly younger too, and Virgil, clearly hesitant to leave. In the end, Jeff softly shooed the elder sons away - even at three Scotty had been a light sleeper.

John was headed to Brains' lab to assist with rebuilding the hapless device. Virgil tagged along, but for the moment they found themselves lingering in the dim hallway, outside of Dad's rooms. The events of the day were A LOT to absorb and to even begin to process. John caught Virgil stealing a glance back at the room, where the child was sleeping peacefully, deep in thought. John braced himself, as he was fairly certain he knew what his brother was thinking. As much as he knew he could never agree.

Virgil looked back, sadness mixed with hope in brown eyes.

"John, don't you think we should..."

"No!"

John didn't expect himself to yell and started, having to gulp down the rest of the protest, lest the child woke up. But Virgil was looking up at him, gaze already frantic with a fast assembling plan.

"I could adopt him! Or Dad. There won't be a legal problem! He's happy, Johnny! We can make sure he never gets hurt! Can you imagine?!"

Hope shone brighter over doubt in brown eyes, but John shuddered and stepped away from Virgil's reach. Because he COULD imagine. That pathway of probabilities was the first one through his mind, as a little boy crawled out of the dust and debris where their biggest brother was standing seconds ago. John COULD imagine. A Scott who had never held them all after Mom's funeral, a Scott, who never rocked Allie to sleep, crying for Mommy, a Scott, who never packed their lunches or picked them up from after-school clubs, because Dad was unavailable, floating in a sea of grief and work. A Scott they never lost to the horror of That Place. A Scott that never came back as a broken shell. A Scott that didn't give up every shred of himself to uphold Dad's legacy and step into Dad's shoes for them all. A Scott that wasn't blaming himself even now that Dad was back. A Scott that wasn't in pain. A Scott they could all see grow up and live a happy life he deserved.

John could see it all too well. It broke his heart to see Dad grasp at the impossible second chance to do right by the eldest son. He saw the eager plea in Virgil's eyes. And John near hated himself as every part of his soul was screaming in protest. Every selfish, terrified little brother part that was in agony at the prospect of losing the very foundation rock of their world - Scott the biggest brother, who loved them, and saw them, and cheered for them, and accepted them all for who they were, and shielded them in a world otherwise cruel and unyielding, a Scott who made sense of everything they were doing, of everything Dad was doing, even when they all drowned in hurt, grief, and resentment. A Scott who could tell them they could do it and they would believe it.

Making sure Scott got a chance at happiness meant loosing him for good. John squeezed his eyes shut against hot angry tears.

Virgil was still looking up at him, hesitant to offer unwarranted touch, and deeply worried. John took in a long stabilizing breath.

"Do you think... Do you think he'd want to never know us all, growing up?"

Virgil's face fell and John felt another pang of remorse.

As if on cue to that thought, the door to Dad's room slid open and tiny feet padded along the hallway. Virgil made a step to intercept the little fugitive, and crouched in front of the child, not to scare.

"What is it Scotty? Do you want some water?"

The boy was obviously drowsy from sleep, small hands rubbing the eyes.

"Wan'Virgie! Didn't say nite-nite t'Virgie! Where'Virgie?"

Big blue eyes were brimming with tears again, confused and desperate. Virgil picked up the feather-light frame and stood up, cradling the boy close and bouncing softly, whispering soothing nonsense to calm the child back to sleep. Brown eyes met a loaded gaze of the turquoise ones. Virgil knew John had a point. But it hurt to consider either way.

John stepped up closer, ruffling the boy's hair. Thunderbird Five, the Voice That Answers, was speaking now, but it was a brother's kiss on the child's temple:

"We'll help you find Virgie, Scotty! I promise! We'll help you get home! We've got you!"

The adult brothers exchanged another Look as the sniffles subsided and Scotty was falling asleep again.

John's comm pinged with a message from Brains. He got something on the device functions. It was quickly decided John would head to the lab. Dad obviously succumbed to the ever lingering fatigue and the stress of the day, so a woken up Scotty could escape. Virgil would stay in the lounge with the boy, watching over for more signs of distress or to mitigate more runaway attempts. Come morning, Gordon and Alan were to take over the babysitting duty. The villa was hopelessly NOT child-proof since Allie was past ten and Scotty's propensity for creative and agile jailbreaks was a significant part of family lore. Even if Brains was close to a reverse effect, they still would need to run tests and simulations, before even considering risking a child.

***

The last thing Scott remembered was a bright flash as the device he brought back for Brains to inspect heated up in his hands, vibrated and exploded. Now he was sitting flat on the floor in the hangar, ears ringing. A blur of motion in his periferal vision materialized in two bodies tackling him further down in a hug. Oomph, make it three bodies. Four. Alright, okay, he LOVED THEM TOO, but he needed to breathe. His ribs creaked. There were more pats down his shoulders and back, a brandished med scanner - unsurprising.

A bit more surprising was another hug, as he finally made it up off the floor and untangled gently, if wobbly, from the pile of brothers - Dad gathered him close in a fierce motion and held tight with no obvious intention to let go. It felt nice, of course, safe. But also worrisome. So for a moment Scott struggled with the conflicting urges to melt into the hug and to FIX whatever got Dad so scared. Jeff just tightened the embrace in response and Scott gave in, relaxing into being held.

He'd have to get to the bottom of it, as more arms joined the hold around him again, especially as he clearly heard Dad whispering "I'm so sorry, Bluejay! I love you so much, son". But for now he was warm, and snug, and obviously so welcome. He was home. Nothing ever felt better.

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #scott tracy needs a hug #scott tracy needs his dad #deaged au #virgil tracy #john tracy #needs a hug #earth and star #jeff tracy needs a license update in fathering #my fic #thunderbirds 2015 #methinks i have astronomy

[skeletinmoss]

Ruffled feathers

Chapter 3: Nails and claws

Ships planned: Prinxiety, Logicality, Dukeciet

Patton and Virgil are brothers in this one

Thanks @lovelivingmydreams for being my beta

First chapter | Previous

Emile hoped out of the van his hooves tapping against the gravel road.

He was glad to be back after his sudden vacation.

The halls were filled with a familiar smell of moss and metal with special addition of food aroma near the kitchen and fresh laundry near living quarters.

He missed it. It was his second home, sometimes it was more comfortable than his actual home.

Logan and Janus were about to leave for their undercover mission and they only got to exchange greetings. This ment the facility was left under careful supervision of the twins. The fawn felt a bunch of goosebumps at the thought of that.

He bet he had 3 hours until some kind of disaster. « Doctor! Nice seeing you!» greeted one of the aforementioned twins.

« Roman,» Emile smiled as the human came closer and took one of the boxes from his hands. « How have you been lately?»

« I'm quite fine. Thank you for asking,» came the answer. They kept up the small talk as they went toward the med area.

«How do our guests feeling?» the fawn wondered.

He didn't like the frown that crossed Roman's face, but he waited for the answer.

At their first meeting he thought the twins were pretty easy to read. He soon learned how many thoughts they had, so their emotions could be related to any of them, which made their reactions a tad different from their real opinions.

« They're fine, » Roman finally decided. « Moody is still living up to the nickname. Oh and Patton is finally talking with us! Did you know that he's actually the older one?!» he revealed with excitement.

« We haven't met yet,» the medic reminded him.

« Oh right, sorry,» the twin apologized as they set boxes on the table. Emile smiled at him,

« I was planning on doing it after setting up the med bay. You can help of course.»

And soon the boxes were unpacked. There was some fresh supplies, some medicine in neat antique bottles which the fawn had a special fondness for, and some equipment to replace a few broken ones he left there before going away.

Everything he might need to start his work.

Moody and Sweetie were now adapting to the facility and frequently left their enclosure. Although one of the brothers was gone more often than the other finding them both was a challenge.

Virgil with his loud purple and cyan feathers was surprisingly hard to spot among the trees.

« Oh my goodness! A nest!» Emile exclaimed as soon as he saw it.

« O my goodness! A new friend!» echoed a bird that popped out it of it.

The brown and blue feathered Avian quickly jumped out and bounced towards the new face.

« Hi. I'm Patton. Oh wow I’ve never seen anyone like you!»

« Pleasure to meet you, Patton. I'm doctor Emile. My species is called a Fawn,» greeted Doc and extended his hand for a handshake.

Patton looked at the hand confused. Emile quickly caught his mistake.

« Sorry, I've been working with humans for a long time. It's a human greeting called a handshake. You take it with your hand and slightly move it up and down a few times,» he explained.

The avian excitedly followed the instructions for a handshake. Fawn smiled, « I know avian's usually use their wings or ear feathers for a greeting, but I unfortunately have neither, and I'm not very good at chirping,» he apologized.

« Oh no worries. Handshake is actually quite nice! How do fawns usually greet each other?» wondered Pat, his wings spreading out from anticipation.

Emile was only pleased to show. He stepped with his hoof making a clank sound and bowed his head.

Patton instinctively bowed back and giggled, « I like this one too~»

« I don't usually greet anyone like that. I've grown up among humans mostly,» the fawn admitted shyly.

« That's a waste of a funny greeting right there,» pouted Pat.

Amiable chatter filled the room.

Patton was fine and dandy health wise.

His wings started to molt and some new shiny feathers already popped out.

Then Emile noticed the claws.

« Do you bite them off on purpose?» he wondered gently.

Patton looked down, oblivious at first, but the moment he understood the topic, he immediately paled.

« It's fine! I'm not worried about them,» he tried to reassure the doctor.

The way his wings folded spoke volumes.

They were pressed against his back so tightly it was painful, almost like a binding was back on them.

« It's not healthy Patton,» Doc slowly reached out, afraid to cause a negative reaction, and placed his hand on top of Patton's.

« I know it must have been hard for you two out there. Some habits are a pain to get rid of,» he stroked avians hands with his.

« But I need you to know that it's going to be ok. First step is always to figure out that you have a problem,» he reassured.

Patton relaxed a little still holding this wings behind his back, but not in a painful position like before.

« We're going to work together on it, ok? All you need to do is stop yourself from biting them. And it's fine if at first you can't help yourself, more important is the effort,» the fawn told him.

« Could you do that for me?»

Patton nodded with an apologetic smile.

He was going to try. He knew he would fail, but Emile didn't care, so why should he? He can keep trying.

It was extremely hard to control the urge to bite into his claws when his brother ran into the room at full speed, clearly being chased.

After him, almost missing the door because of a wild drift, came the twins.

« Get him!» yelled Roman.

« The Bastard stole our last spoon!» added Remus.

Here comes the disaster. And it hardly had been an hour.

The black avian swiftly passed his brother and the doctor, and with a powerful jump reached his safe zone in the line of trees.

The twin duo came to a stop, both understanding that they wouldn't be able to follow a bird in its natural habitat.

« Give back the spoon, you thief!» demanded one of them.

« You stole a whole drawer of cutlery already! Where do you even keep those things?» pleaded the other.

Patton lightly tapped the actor's shoulder.

« Can I?» he asked.

After the duo exchanged looks and gave him a nod he jumped and stood on their shoulders with his hand in a demanding gesture towards his brother.

« Virgil,» he said sternly, « The spoon.»

Virgil growled with the cutlery in question between his teeth.

« Now,» Patton insisted until his brother finally gave up and spit it out.

« The other ones too.” The younger avian huffed and disappeared into the little forest that was their enclosure. He returned with a dozen or more spoons. But before he can fully emerge the older brother added «Forks and knives too.»

So he went back to his secret stache and brought back the same amount of other cutlery. « Good,» Patton nodded and hopped back on the ground.

Twins looked at the cutlery bewildered. Some of it was bend as if Virgil had slept on them.

Avians loved shiny things.

With how many avians they hosted in this facility the rescue team knew that for sure.

Many of the avian tribes had a habit or hoarding shiny things they liked.

Patton and Virgil weren't an exception. Although both of them had a different approach on the topic.

The older brother was more careful with the shinies. He played with them where he found them and left them in their place.

The younger one on the other hand. He was a stealing menace.

Janus tried several times to locate his stache of stolen goodies, but all in vein.

Virgil knew how to hide.

After a few first forks went missing from Patton's nest he figured it wasn't the right place to store them in. And since then no one could locate anything.

If the thing went missing there was a fair chance that Moody had stolen it.

Roman already lost five of his rings. Only because he took them of for a couple of minutes.

Janus was missing his expensive makeup brush he forgot to put away. Remus once left his holographic top unattended.

Logan couldn't locate most of their stationery. And they've been gradually loosing cutlery.

The culprit? A kleptomaniac bird with trust issues.

Roman sighed.

Moody looked so hurt after parting ways with his collection.

He took a pocket mirror out of his jacket and handed it to the avian.

Virgil looked at him confused.

« A trade for the cutlery,» he explained.

« We can't have your collection dwindling after all~» he smiled and was delighted to see a soft pink blush spreading on the emo's face.

« Thanks,» Virgil whispered before disappearing in the trees again, likely to hide his new treasure.

Tag list: @aphandgflover @yourdragonwitchroyalty @warcats-cat @aevhee @cyanide-violence @fandomfollowerart

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #patton sanders #ts patton #ruffled feathers au

[canon-transgender-virgil]

SANDERS SIDES SPOILERS AHEAD, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

Hey yeah I'm overanalyzing their rooms now that we cANONICALLY KNOW WHAT EACH OF THEIR ROOMS LOOKS LIKE????? (if i miss anything while combing through these picture lmk!)

First up, Patton's room!

Lots of plushies! Lovely touch, not that surprised cuz it's, you know, Patton.

Cat statue! (lamp? I can't tell jdjsjsj)

And a cat poster right above his head!

I can't tell what picture that is on his desk :(

But I can tell that his glasses are on there, as well as a plate of two cookies (love that callback) and... A bible. Specifically the Bible Patton swore his oath on in SvS. Interesting touch...

And lastly, the card Virgil gave him during 12DOC (which I find interesting because, to me at least, this symbolizes that Patton still views Virgil as or believes Virgil to still be his best friend which is, uh... Not quite the case right now).

Also notably, Patton doesn't wear his onesie to sleep here?

Alright, next up is Roman!

Right off the bat, THAT IS A FACE MASK PEOPLE, ROMAN CANONICALLY HAS A SKINCARE ROUTINE ‼️

Next, his katana right next to his bed which I imagine he uses fairly often because if you'll look in the bottom left hand corner, you can see Remus stealing one of Roman's crocheted (knitted?) stars off of his desk

After that is his poster, which says Adventure Is Out There (maybe an Up poster? I can't find the exact one but knowing Roman it's probably that)

And speaking of Disney, I just noticed that he's sleeping in his Beauty and the Beast onesie oh my gosh

I love the amount of Roman toys he has in his room idjshshs

I can't tell what that bottle is right behind the Roman Youtooz, if anyone can, can you let me know?

[EDIT FOR ABOVE: People have told me that the bottle is pillow spray which, yeah, makes sense for Roman jdjdjsjs]

And finally, the bulletin board! Two pictures of himself, one of Leslie Odom Jr., and 3 Post-Its that read (from top to bottom): "TAKE DANCE CLASSES AGAIN", "YOU GOT THIS PAL", and "WWLOJD?" (which I realized far too late means "What Would Leslie Odom Jr. Do?" idjdjsjs)

Alright, Virgil's room now!!

It is. So dark. I had to turn my phone's brightness up to max to even be able to see half of it ksjsjsjsj

First off, Virgil wears a Green Day shirt and Thomas's black jacket to sleep! (If you don't remember, this is the same jacket Thomas wore during parts 1 and 2 of Accepting Anxiety and in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts!)

If you'll look right behind Virgil, there's a laptop open to... A YouTube lyric video. Dude listens to emo music without headphones to go to sleep, oh my God /pos

[EDIT ABOVE: According to Thomas, he's watching a Jack the Ripper conspiracy video, not a lyric video! Still, incredibly fitting for Virgil kdjdjsjs]

Now to the darker parts of the room:

He has a whiteboard that says "[Number (it's actually a pound sign but i don't want this to end up as a hashtag jdjsjsj)] of days since last total disaster", with 5 being the number of days. Does this mean that this video takes place five days after WTIT, or is it just an insignificant number?

I literally can't tell what all is on Virgil's desk so if anyone does please let me know, but what I can tell is that he's got an expo marker (for the whiteboard) and (presumably) melatonin, which (alongside the tossing and turning) I imagine confirms that Virgil has trouble sleeping

[EDIT FOR ABOVE: He also has a spider plush, a book of Grimm's Fairytale, fake candles(?) and Patton's card pinned underneath it! That's fascinating to me and I've taken it to mean that Virgil doesn't want to complete throw away his friendship with Patton but he's nowhere near "buddy buddy" with him anymore]

And finally, Logan!

Look at his blue ass bed and matching pjs and sleep mask I freaking love him

He's got a periodic table poster over his bed!!!

Now let's check out his desk

He has all five plushies with him!!! Everyone else just had theirs but he has all five! (Angst writers come get your food pspspsps)

They're all sitting on a notebook (presumably the one Logan uses to write down when someone says something stupid?) which is on top of the fanfic Roman gave him for Christmas which i freaking love 😭

His solved Rubix cube is sitting on what looks to be a crossword of the day calendar sort of thing?

EMPTY CROFTERS JAR BEHIND EVERYTHING HE CANONICALLY EATS IT IN HIS ROOM

Oh my God that is the 10th Doctor Funko Pop right by the plushies

And his flashcards are under his glasses!

[EDIT FOR ABOVE: The notebook above the script is a Journal 3 notebook from Gravity Falls and he also has a TARDIS behind the plushies and a smart lamp! (Hence the clapping)]

Again, if i missed something someone let me know jdjdhs

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts logan #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #tss spoilers #ts spoilers

[idontknowreallywhy]

Got myself in a cycle of stress editing / rewriting particular piece which will not go the way I want. So I abandoned it for now and challenged myself to just write a one-off scene that has lived in my head for a long time with no going back and editing or adjusting but just a linear splurge of words and silliness.

It’s entirely ridiculous but here it is anyway (with an affectionate nudge to @crunchyluigi @obeyweegee214 @galaxytransman)

It’s a Secret No-One Knows

6pm on Tracy island and all was quiet as Scott made his way up the stairs into the lounge.

Virgil, Gordon and Alan were still in the air on the way back from a tricky mine rescue in Northern Europe. He was grateful that success had been confirmed on comms as he’d been on the point of ignoring John’s pointed comments about flight hours and heading north.

He’d have been there with them of course if, when the call came in, he and One hadn’t already been plucking panicking, inexperienced climbers off of one of his favourite crags in the Blue Mountains. His nimble ship was always the most suited to such environments and frankly he could have done it in his sleep.

Oh, but it was such a waste of his time and fuel! Enough awful disasters happened around the world every day without people putting themselves into danger because they were more focussed on researching what shots they wanted for their vlog than on the rating of the climb they were undertaking. The names the Aussies had assigned to each route didn’t exactly help - the latest gaggle of idiots had got half way up “Does my Bum Look Big On This?” wearing entirely inappropriate shorts for the weather and got themselves tangled in each others’ safety lines while trying to take selfies from a distinctly unorthodox angle. It had taken every last ounce of self-restraint he had not to accidentally drop their phones into the ravine.

And the next one to use the word ‘gnarly’ was going to experience an Incident with the passenger loading bay door.

Over the ocean.

At Mach 19.

When had young people got so ridiculous?

And when had he stopped being one? He sighed and dragged his hands down his face. Damn, he really was getting old and grumpy.

And probably hangry, now he thought about it. Well that was fixable even if the inexorable march towards irrelevant middle age was not. He made a beeline for the fridge and found himself uninspired by the array of pre-prepared high calorie low effort snacks they usually favoured post mission. He craved something… nutritious…

Ignoring the imagined old-man mockery of the younger brothers who resided in his brain, he pulled out every fresh ingredient they had in stock: Eggs, bacon, sausages, three types of cheese, peppers, spring onions, basil… ah Ha! He knew exactly what this was going to be. A quick rummage in the larder turned up a bag of potatoes and he hefted it over his shoulder, flicking the switch on grandma’s ancient radio as he went past.

Ooh, ‘Happy 90s Hour’ was starting. One of his guilty pleasures as a teenager in the early 50s…

The repetitive peeling and dicing task combined with the irrepressibly cheery pop bangers slowly eased the knot of grouchiness in his chest. By the time he scooped the mountain of potato cubes into the dustbin-lid sized frying pan he was singing along with both halves of the Barbie Girl duet. A pleasing sizzling ensued and he grinned to himself. This was going to be epic. A little prodding with the spatula to cook them evenly then he turned the heat down and did a little slide sideways to fetch the meat and a shuffle and a hop back to add them to the pan.

As John popped up on the kitchen comm, his big brother was too busy volta-ing through the kitchen with a cheese grater to notice. Because you can’t just walk across a room when Ricky Martin is playing. John’s quizzical single eyebrow was rapidly joined by its twin as he spotted the pan on the stove… he cut the connection and leapt into the elevator, sending a message to Virgil to put his proverbial foot down.

Frittata Night was not to be trifled with.

And so it was that all four younger brothers took the elevator up from the hangar together and arrived in a state of some excitement for the culinary experience that awaited them.

As the door opened however Virgil threw out his arms to prevent them piling out. The chatter stopped immediately as they peered round the wall of brother to spy their eldest dancing to and fro at the stove and belting out the words to some ancient pop song:

So hold on to the ones who care

In the end they’ll be the only ones there

When you get old and start losing your hair

Can you tell me who will still caaaaare?

As the chorus dropped so did the jaws of Alan and Gordon for who knew their biggest brother could move his hips like that? And why was he waving the spatula that way? Alan looked wide eyed to John and pointed with a shaking hand as if to ensure his space brother was seeing the same thing he was. John, didn’t acknowledge him, instead staring straight ahead, tapping a finger on the doorframe in time with the beat. Gordon turned to Virgil unable to verbalise beyond “bu.. bu… bu…” only to find his tank of a brother smiling broadly and… his jaw dislocated further… also swaying his hips in time.

Then he was gone.

… And so was John!

Both of them jigging across the floor to join their brother in an honest to goodness dance routine while the three of them sang nonsense words. Alan lost control of his knees and collapsed cross-legged to the floor. Gordon desperately tried to grab his phone to record the moment but fumbled and dropped it down the back of the couch. And then it was over.

And there was frittata.

And if the Tinies were unusually quiet during the meal, the elder three didn’t notice as each treasured the memories of their little dance trio ‘performing’ for their biggest fan. While eating her signature dish.

Fin.

*****

You want the dance routine? Course not… but here is is anyway (Scott starts singing at about 0:40, chorus and excellent hip action kick in at about 0:52)

Edit to add: Weirdly specific note because the precise image is apparently super important to me (clearly been sucked in by the child watching Strictly) and because I forgot there are two types of Volta… this is the move I mean - the samba one (skip to 1:44 of the video and it’s just a few seconds).

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #thunderfluff #ridiculousness #90s music #frittata #probably nobody ever made a song fic of this one before #probably for good reason #earworm warning #idontknowreallywhy fanfic

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day Three: Armour

I always seem to be putting Scott in most of the emotional spirals. Sorry, Scott fans. On the plus side, the next two after this are also Scott centric, so win-win?

AO3 here Days: One ~ Two

Warnings for: no real warnings this time, just Scott being a little depressed. Everyone has a mask that they put on like armour to hide themselves from the world. Tagging: @thunder-tober @skymaiden32 (just going to put it out there that if you want to be tagged in any future Thundertober pieces, or future pieces in general, let me know and I'll tag you too!)

Tropical breeze blew through unkempt locks. He had quite taken to hiking recently. He wondered if the others had noticed… No, of course they had noticed. Virgil’s worried glances, Gordon’s offers of company, John’s calls that came the moment Scott had made it to the top. They could all sense something was wrong, but they all had the respect of leaving Scott alone to decide if and when to inform them.

They all trusted that he would.

The thing with falling was that it was a lot like flying. Scott figured that was probably why he allowed himself to plummet so far before picking himself back up. The perception was deceptive; whenever he fell, it often felt like there was a warm embrace awaiting him at the end. After so many descents, he knew there was nothing but a soul-crushing oblivion at rock bottom, but Scott accepted the fall every goddamn time because, in these specific moments, when the fall was already underway, he genuinely believed he deserved it.

These moments of self-destruction were never random. They always had a trigger. This time, it was from (what Scott would have called) a failed rescue.

John had been trying to convince him otherwise on the entire journey home, but Scott hadn’t listened.

Yes, his space brother had a point in claiming that no-one had perished in the disaster, but that didn’t equate a success. Not in his eyes.

They had managed to save everyone, but Scott had been stubborn and there had been subsequent costs.

“We’ve got to get these people out now, Virg.”

“Scott, if we move too fast, the whole thing is at risk of collapsing. This is the safer—”

“If we don’t act now, safer won’t matter because there won’t be anyone in there left to save!”

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as the memory of that moment came back to him in vivid colours and sounds. He’d never be free of that mistake, just like he’d never be free of any of the other mistakes he’d made.

No-one died, but Scott had still managed to fuck it up.

He pretended to be okay for the journey home, listening and nodding away as John tried valiantly to reassure him that all was not lost. Scott didn’t believe a word of it, but John didn’t need to know that. He had placed the mask on, hoping his brothers wouldn’t be able to see through it.

The reason he had hiked up to the summit was so he didn’t have to keep pretending.

Here, he could let that shield down for a while.

Here, with only the sky and sea to view for miles and miles, Scott could allow himself to be himself.

If Scott were ever asked where this defence had come from, or when it had developed, he wouldn’t have been able to give a straightforward answer. Perhaps he’d always had this guard up, or perhaps he’d built it up in the months following Dad’s disappearance.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t care.

Scott was glad for the mask. It meant no-one else worried. It meant that he could stay safe and, so long as the armour remained up, he could not only protect himself from the world but also those around him from himself too.

He didn’t want to see Virgil’s worried eyes scanning over him every five seconds. He didn’t want Gordon to constantly feel like he needed to be around him just in case. He didn’t want John constantly checking up on him.

His brothers weren’t his babysitters, and as much as he personally hated it, he hated the idea of being a burden to them more.

The armour was beautiful at keeping his true feelings and thoughts hidden, so everyone could go on as normal, but that only worked when everyone believed the wall of lies that Scott had built up. Whilst he had hoped his brothers hadn’t seen through his armour, from their concern showed earlier it was clear that they had. Again, Scott blamed himself for that. Maybe the mask wasn’t good enough this time.

Maybe, because he didn’t believe it, no-one else would.

He berated himself.

There were whispered curses under his breath as seagulls cried overhead.

Had to do better.

Had to be better.

Scott slumped against one of the rocks, unconcerned over the uncomfortableness of the jagged ground beneath him. He pulled his knees up to his chest, ignoring the tears that ran down his cheeks.

At least for now, alone on that peak, he could let the armour fall.

#thundertober 2023 #thunderbirds fanfiction #five fics #scott tracy #thunderbirds are go

[brandstifter-sys]

Don't Drop Mr. Fuzzy

Word Count: 2405 (Ao3)

Characters: Virgil, Remus, Mr. Fuzzy

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, fear of abandonment, death mention, violence mention, s/h mention, post-break up reconciliation

After the gift exchange, Virgil couldn't stop thinking about Remus, about the slip in his bubbly facade. So naturally he went running to the Duke, and not a moment too soon. Remus needed some affection.

---

The gift exchange wasn't as much of a disaster as he thought. Sure he had a hiccup with his giftee doubting him, but Roman bitch slapped Janus. Patton was thrilled with his gift, but then there was his own present. 

Virgil sat on his bed and stared at Mr. Fuzzy. He could admit it was cute, for something Remus made, and if he had no idea what it was made of he could be grateful for it. In private. Who really kept gifts from their ex?

“Maybe if I sanitize you, you won't be as gross,” Virgil said and turned it in his covered hands. He had yet to set it down, partly because he didn't want to contaminate his room, and partly because he felt guilty for dropping it after Remus' little outburst. 

“Mr. Fuzzy doesn't like being dropped!” 

The way Remus said that punched him in the amygdala. The layered voice, that rigid posture, those wide eyes—to an outsider it was uncanny, unsettling, but not to those who knew him. Virgil knew him all too well.

“Alright,” Virgil sighed and got up, headed for his desk. He conjured a small tub of warm water and that blue barber shop comb cleaner and set Mr. Fuzzy inside. 

“I'll be back in ten, so just chill,” he said and stepped into the closet. There was no way he was wearing a sweater for the rest of the night! Maybe he could just go shirtless and play video games until bedtime, it was less work. But he still had to handle Mr. Fuzzy and hide it in the back of the closet somewhere. 

That idea made his stomach churn. He was so tired of hiding things just so they could come out in the open again. And Remus' words were echoing in his skull again. 

Mr. Fuzzy didn't like being dropped. Abandoned. Neither did Remus. And Virgil absolutely dropped and abandoned him. Virgil abandoned him and yet he still made him a gift with his own hands, a cute little blob that really fit his aesthetic. 

He couldn't ignore the dread filling him as he peeled off his sweater. Remus used that voice. It was the same as the one Virgil used when he was on the verge of a panic attack. It was a cry for help.

He knew Remus had his moments when his thoughts drove him crazy, when he legitimately feared that they would become reality. He knew how horrible the duke felt despite his smile and impishness. 

Why didn't he recognize it at the gift exchange? Was it his own anxiety about being stuck with Janus and Remus? Was it Janus' obvious discomfort with the situation, the discomfort that led him to drinking all that wine? It should have hit him much sooner than it did. 

And as he finished getting into his pajamas, Virgil realized that he couldn't just sit by. He still cared about Remus, more than he should.

He grabbed Mr. Fuzzy, willed it dry, and sank out. 

---

Remus wandered down the hallway towards his bedroom. He didn't trust himself to sink out and appear in his own room, not when his mind was screaming at him. Now that Janus was in bed and cozy, and the party was over, he didn't have any distractions.

He just wanted to have fun in the chaos a drunk Janus brought to the “family gathering” and maybe give and get presents outside of the secret Santa. But all he got was a throw away, thoughtless gift (he loved it but it felt impersonal and did not help his thoughts) and a shock from his brother slapping his bestie. In hindsight it was exactly the kind of response to the building tension he enjoyed, but at that moment it was gnawing at his brain.

Janus dying from a snapped neck, leaving him.

Roman stabbing him through the gut, blood splattering up to his mustache.

Worst of all, Virgil hated the gift he made for him. Yes, he scoured his shower drain for it—it’s called recycling! But he made sure to clean the hair if only so the glue would stick! It was cute and creepy! Just like Virgil! 

Virgil pushing him off a cliff into the void. 

Silence. Darkness. Solitude. Only his thoughts telling him how he could die

Remus didn't realize he was digging his thumbnail into his fingers, going from pointer to pinky and back, until he reached his door. He could smell the blood on his hands. He was ready to scream and cry. Maybe he could cuddle with his favorite teddy and hide under the covers—

Suffocating. Blood vessels in his wide eyes breaking. His face turning red.

—curl up on top of the covers. 

But his heart shattered when he opened the door. He couldn't even hold up his deranged smile. He had everything organized perfectly, clean, and nothing should have been out of place, but the unexpected hairball on his desk was staring at him. Mr. Fuzzy was back. Virgil didn't even want to keep it in his closet! 

Tears welled in his eyes as he staggered towards the desk, not bothering to look at the rest of his room. Virgil actually hated him! He really was gone— 

“Hey,” Virgil said softly. Remus whipped around and spotted his favorite edgelord perched on his bed. He was chewing his bottom lip and avoiding his eyes, but was he really there? 

Remus timidly reached out and brushed Virgil’s arm with his bleeding fingers. He was not hallucinating. 

“Can we talk?” Virgil asked and gently grabbed his hand. Remus nodded dumbly and sat down next to him. 

“What did you want to talk about?” 

“Are you doing alright? You kinda slipped back there,” Virgil said and scooted closer. He conjured some bandages and tended to his wounds. 

“No. I miss you. I put so much time and effort into your gift and you don't like it, you even dropped it!” Remus pouted. He didn't have to plaster a smile on his face or pretend he wasn't hurting now. He couldn't hide his fingers so why hide anything else?

“I hate you” Virgil glaring at him with so much disdain.

“I was startled when you said you got the supplies from JoAnn Fabrics,” Virgil admitted, “I was expecting a catch, you never make something simple. And I never know what you have in store. I thought it might bite.” 

“But you still don't like it. You were so unimpressed and unhappy. You said it was going to the back of your closet never to be seen again,” Remus shuddered as Virgil let go of his bandaged hands. 

Virgil shoving him in the back of his closet and forgetting him.

“I was in a really bad mood,” Virgil said and wrapped an arm around him, “You know how much I hate social situations like that, especially with Janus running his mouth. I'm not shoving Mr. Fuzzy in my closet. I like it. It's actually pretty cute.” 

Remus leaned into him and closed his eyes, not trying to fight the tears. This was too much and not enough. 

“Do you hate me now?” he finally asked and glanced at Virgil. He hated how sad those eyes were, how dark his eyeshadow was.

He hates you. He wants you to disappear 

“No, I don't hate you,” Virgil said and pulled him closer, “I don't have a lot of patience, and I get angrier than I used to. But I don't hate you.” 

He'll pretend you don't exist

You'll wither to a skeleton when Janus leaves like he did

Remus shivered and scooted onto his lap. He clung to Virgil’s shirt and sobbed. Why wouldn't his brain just stop? Virgil was telling the truth! Virgil went looking for him! Virgil was worried about him!

“It's okay, Remus, I got you,” Virgil said and hugged him, “Your bad thoughts aren't real.” 

“I don't want to be abandoned!” Remus sobbed and buried his face in Virgil’s shoulder, “I don't need anyone to like me! I just don't want to be alone! That's all I can think about!” 

“After all these images of pain have cut right through you, I will kiss every scar and weep, you are not alone,” Virgil muttered and gently rocked him. 

Remus tightened his grip and shook as a new wave of sobs wracked him. Virgil couldn't even see the claw marks on his arms, old crescent shaped scars from moments like these. 

He'll see them and run from a lost cause.

“Do you want me to stay overnight?” Virgil asked and kissed his head. Remus didn't answer him. He was too busy crying his heart out. 

Virgil hated seeing him like this. He knew Remus absolutely sobbed just as hard when he ended their relationship years ago. He knew that Remus unintentionally hurt himself when he was distressed. He knew that the duke needed someone to tell him he would be okay.

“Can you stay tonight?” Remus muttered once he calmed down, “I can sleep on the floor, just as long as you're here.” 

“I'll stay,” Virgil responded and stroked his hair. It was still as soft as ever, “And you don't have to sleep on the floor.” 

“But I get clingy and I might do something that makes you mad,” Remus pouted, “It's bad enough I want you back. I don't want you to leave me as a friend too.” 

“After all the hell I put you through,” Virgil sighed, “you shouldn't want me back. I don't deserve a second chance.” 

“Do you want one anyway?” Remus sniffled and dried his eyes. Virgil hugged him tighter and sighed. 

“Yeah. I want that.” 

“Did you want to get a clean shirt?” Remus asked and stared at the mess he made. He usually didn't mind snot but it stayed out of his bed. His bedroom was clean to fight his intrusive thoughts, his workshop was a hot stinky mess where he could go wild. That was one boundary he refused to cross. 

“I don't mind going shirtless, but yeah I'm not wearing this to sleep.” 

“You'd go shirtless in bed with me?” Remus gawked. 

“If it's cool with you, yeah,” Virgil shrugged and averted his eyes, “but if you aren't I can get a clean shirt. But I would have to leave for a couple minutes.” 

“I have your old A Day to Remember shirt if you want to wear that,” Remus muttered and scooted away from him. 

“You kept that?” 

“Yeah. It smells like you and it's comfy.” 

“Let's get you out of that sweater and in something more comfortable,” Virgil said and got up. He helped Remus to his feet and peeled that stupid Christmas sweater off. 

Remus shuddered as his bare skin met the air. It was soothing, no longer having any fabric smothering him. 

Virgil snickered and tossed the sweater in the hamper at the foot of the bed. 

“You might want to rename—” he said Mr. Fuzzy's eldritch name, “—at least in English.” 

“Why?” Remus pouted. He was startled when Virgil ran his hands over his chest. It was a gentle touch, with no hidden meaning. 

“Pretty sure you're the real Mr. Fuzzy,” Virgil teased, “You're still as soft and fluffy as ever.” 

“Your shirt is in the dresser in the second drawer, no cuddles until you're not a snot boy,” Remus grumbled and averted his gaze. He was feeling too many things at once and he did not need to add mushy to that list. 

“Who's fault is that?” Virgil scoffed playfully and shed his hoodie. He didn't wait for Remus to respond before going to the dresser and grabbing his old shirt. 

“Yours. You let me use you as a tissue,” Remus jeered without much enthusiasm and got out of his pants. At least he was throwing quips and stripping like he normally did. 

“You got me there,” Virgil said and changed shirts. He tossed the snotty one in the hamper and crept up behind Remus. The duke wasn't entirely present. 

Remus yelped as Virgil grabbed him from behind and dragged him onto the bed. He squirmed and tried to escape, but Virgil's hold was too strong. 

“You're cute when you try to fight me,” Virgil chuckled softly and kissed his cheek. 

Virgil letting go of him. Letting him fall— 

Remus flipped over and clung to him. 

“Stay,” he grumbled and squeezed Virgil as tightly as possible. 

“I'm staying. I'll only leave to use the bathroom,” Virgil said softly and rubbed his back. Remus stayed quiet, shivering from the touch. So he was starved for affection and Janus could only provide so much. 

“Did you like your present?” Virgil asked after a few moments. 

“Daddy didn't know what to get me so he got me something from a top ten list. I'll love it more when my thoughts quiet down,” Remus grumbled, “I'm just happy he got me something and didn't forget about me!” 

“It’s hard to forget about you,” Virgil said and kissed his hair, “You're too sweet.” 

“You mean that?” 

“Yeah. You made me a gift with your own hands, a unique little eldritch horror that's cool and cute. You went out of your way to make it.” 

“It's cute and cuddly and it eats stuff from the shower drain. It keeps things clean!” 

“It's alive?” Virgil asked, horrified. 

“Yeah. I didn't think that would be a big deal,” Remus wilted. 

“I stuck it in a tub of barbicide for ten minutes. Did I kill it?” Virgil panicked. 

A shrill chirp pulled him from his spiraling. He glanced over Remus' shoulder and saw the little hairball on the bed. 

“Mr. Fuzzy likes getting dangerous baths,” Remus giggled. Virgil immediately relaxed when he heard that beautiful sound. 

“Can it join in the cuddle pile? It doesn't like Remus being sad,” Virgil asked. Remus snuggled closer and nodded. He needed all the affection he could get. 

Almost immediately four long, hairy tentacles wrapped around Remus' torso. Virgil was surprised but not shocked. There was always a catch with Remus' creations. 

“Mr. Fuzzy doesn't like being dropped and he doesn't like letting go,” Virgil mused as a fifth tentacle curled around his arm. 

“How did you know that about it?” Remus grumbled. 

“I didn't. I was talking about a different Mr. Fuzzy,” Virgil replied and kissed the top of his head, “And I'm not dropping you again.” 

#dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #mr fuzzy #intrusive thouoghts tw #s/h mention tw #death mention tw #violence mention tw #sandyscribed

[typically-untypical]

Lucky

AU: Soulmate Human AU

CW: Remus Angst

WC: 3703

Date: 12/7/2023

There were few people in the world who were as lucky as Remus. He had been born with four soulmates, four people he could pour all of his love and admiration onto and have it be reciprocated. Even if he was a little weird, even if he was a bit reckless, there were going to be four people who loved him through it all.

There were few people in the world who were as lucky as Remus. When he was in middle school he had made two new friends only to find out pretty quickly that they were his soulmates. He had found two of his forever people before he even turned 13 and he knew he was going to have a life full of happiness and love with the two of them. When they found their other two soulmates, Remus was going to be the happiest person in the world.

Remus had a run of bad luck. It could happen to anyone. A few teachers who didn't like him, a few gossipy students who wanted to ruin him, and two parents who didn't believe him. It was a recipe for disaster. Remus was sent away, but he had already met two of his soulmates and his brother, so it was okay.

Remus' bad luck continued. His brother was isolated from him, apparently a bad influence isn't worth talking to. His soulmates were isolated from him. Janus' parents were convinced Remus was the devil and Virgil's own family was chaos. Between the drama in their lives and the restrictions in Remus' their communication faltered and failed more and more until it was basically non-existent. 

There were few people in the world who were as unlucky as Remus. He had finally gotten out of his crappy high school his parents had shipped him to. He had his freedom, but he had no one. Virgil's phone was disconnected, Janus' father picked up when Remus tried to call, and Roman wanted nothing to do with him. Remus was alone but he didn't need luck. He could be strong. He could fight. Not to mention, he had hope. Remus still had two soulmates who might want to see him.

There were few people in the world who were as unlucky as Remus. He stared down at his phone, looking at his brother's instagram. He was home for the summer break, his first semester of college over with, and he had brought home two friends. At first Remus couldn't believe his eyes, two men, two soulmarks, both matching his missing pieces. His brother had to have known. He had to have understood what it meant becoming friends with those two people, those two specifically. Remus threw his phone at the wall of his apartment. It was drafty and poorly maintained but it was his. He had learned how to do most of the repairs himself. He had gotten into a job himself, and damn it was exhausting, but he had done it all for the hope that one day his luck would turn around, one day he could be loved again. Sinking to the floor, Remus put his head in his knees, closing his eyes and fighting the tears that threatened to well up from inside of him. It had all been a rumor, a stupid rumor his parents and teachers took as truth. Yes he liked the macabre, but that didn't make him a monster, and even if he was, what of it. He wasn't hurting anyone. Remus ran a hand through his hair, looking at the dent in his wall. He was going to have to fix that. He could get all the supplies and then maybe get himself something cheap to eat from a fast food place. It was so hard to cook cheaply for one person especially when he didn't have proper storage space for leftover or bulk cooking. 

Pushing himself to his feet, Remus walked over and picked up his phone, quickly closing the Instagram app so he wasn't able to focus on what he lost. He had wanted to go back home after high school, to return to his hometown and find Janus and Virgil. However, being completely cut off from financial help, it wasn't necessarily easy for him to make it back home. He might be able to now that it was a year later, but his finances still weren't completely secure. Maybe he should start posting on Instagram rather than just stalking his brother, then Janus and Virgil could find him easier, but honestly, Remus was nervous. So much had gone wrong in his life, he was afraid of trying to reach out again, of watching it all blow up in his face. He had an account, but it was blank, and he wasn't following anyone, not even Roman. Remus hadn't wanted to give his brother the chance to block him. He couldn't handle being anymore disconnected then he already was. 

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Remus ruffled his long hair. He had started dying it green ever since he got out of that stupid boarding school. Maybe he should post that, he could dye his hair again, it was getting a bit faded and he could buy box dye and a steak quesadilla and just do something for himself today. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Remus went to check his bank account. He had enough money for it, especially if he wasn't going to try and go back to his hometown. He needed to find another word for it. That place hadn't been home in a really long time. 

True to his word, Remus spent the rest of his night dying his hair a bright green, he even trimmed it up and made it look nice before taking a picture and posting it. He wasn't trying to get famous or anything, just trying to throw out a line. He wasn't the type to sit by helplessly. If Janus and Virgil didn't find him, then it wasn't actually meant to be. If they did and didn't want him... well he could continue deluding himself. 

After seeing his last two soulmates with Roman, he wasn't expecting to ever have them by his side. He was sure his brother had already told them a million awful things about the type of person he was. He was going to cling to what he knew, who he knew. Virgil and Janus had been such wonderful soulmates. They had just been kids when they met, and that's all they wanted to be back then. The three of them would sneak onto the school at night, they would play harmless pranks on each other and when things were really hard for Virgil at home, they would all come together and just exist. That's what Remus wanted, he wanted someone he could exist with, someone he could go home to. He wasn't sure what that was going to mean for any of them in a future, if they even had one together, but he imagined Halloweens spent in graveyards, Christmases spent in the forest. He imagined so much while he was separated from them. Now he just hoped to have them in his house one day. 

[Section Break]

Virgil sat on Janus' couch, curled up against him as he scrolled through tumblr. Janus had just gotten back for summer break and Virgil wasn't intending on leaving his side if it could be helped. He had gotten super clingy after they lost Remus, and it really was their fault. The two of them should have tried harder to keep in contact with him, but he hadn't had a cell phone when he was sent to that stupid boarding school and Virgil's home life had gotten so much worse. Remus had been so isolated, but so had Virgil up until the day he turned eighteen and ran away. Janus was the one who had helped him out, hiding most of it from his parents. The two of them were all each other had and even now they could only cuddle like this because both of his parents were out on a cruise. Their only son came back from college and they were gone. Virgil didn't know how they could stand to be separated from him.

"You're squishing me again, I can't breathe," Janus chuckled, shifting so he could pull Virgil a bit closer. "How is it you are a guest in this house and yet taking up my entire couch?"

"It's not my fault your couch is so small," Virgil stretched as if to make a point and Janus rolled his eyes before leaning down to kiss him.

"It's not my fault you're so tall."

"You're just short, even Remus-" Virgil cut himself off, they weren't supposed to talk about Remus, it hurt too much, but sometimes he couldn't help it.

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" Janus put down his phone, running a hand over Virgil's eyes to hide him from the world. They had had to stop thinking about Remus, stop dwelling on him. It was tearing both of them apart. Virgil blamed himself for not reaching out more and Janus worried about whether or not Remus was doing alright. Everything had gone from perfect to falling apart in such a short time, and they had just been kids. 

"I can't help it. I keep thinking if I had written him letters, or if I had done literally anything at all, maybe I could have kept in touch with him, maybe he and I could be working to support you through what you want to do and not what your parents want you to do."

"A third income would help," Janus teased, rubbing his thumb across Virgil's temple, watching as his boyfriend wrapped his fingers around Janus' hand, holding him closer. "But it's not your fault. It's not either of our faults. If anything, we can blame Roman."

Virgil snorted but didn't argue. The two of them both had a bone to pick with Roman who had truly gone to the dark side in high school. He had perpetuated the rumors about his brother and started using Remus as his tragic backstory. Senior year Virgil had decked Roman for his lies. He had gotten suspended for three days but it had been worth it.

"Do you want to jump onto instagram and make fun of him?" Janus asked and Virgil pouted. It wasn't fair for him to be so well known. He was supposed to be mysterious.

"Yeah," He finally relented, slowly pulling down Janus ‘hand so he could see once again. "After, do you want to go to the mall and see if we can scope out soulmates? More people means more eyes looking for Remus."

"I guess if we have to leave the comfort of my home the mall is acceptable." Virgil poked Janus in the side and they both laughed a bit, settling back into their silence. It was hard to keep themselves smiling and happy, but they did their best. They fought to keep and hold each other, not willing to lose one another again. Janus opened up Roman's instagram and immediately shot up almost pushing Virgil off the couch.

"What? What happened?"

"Look at this!" He held his phone out. Virgil and Janus were both looking at Roman with two men they had never seen before, two men who had their soulmarks.

"We should break into the house," Janus said quietly but seriously and Virgil shot up. It was so like Remus and for a moment it almost felt like he was here, but then the moment faded and Virgil was very aware that this was an awful idea.

"We should not, we can't break into Remus' childhood home. Especially not with Roman there. The two probably aren't even with him, they're probably in a hotel or something."

Janus lifted his eyebrow, standing up as well. "Come on Virgil, think about it. They have so many bedrooms, and the Prince parents are so concerned about status. They would never have their guests stay in a hotel. They are probably in the media room watching some stupid movie. Also, this is something Remus would do, and if they can't see past it, then they won't accept Remus, and I won't accept them."

Virgil wrung his hands together. "This… this is a really bad idea, but I'll follow you anywhere."

A look of love and adoration crossed Janus' face as he pulled Virgil in for a kiss. He wasn't the type for sudden affection, he preferred to be more mysterious than that, but sometimes, he had too much love to keep held in his chest. When they finally separated he smirked softly. "Let's go break into a house."

It wasn't really breaking into a house if they had a key, right? Technically they didn't break anything. Virgil still looked terrified about the whole thing, but he was doing his best to keep on a neutral face. Janus was proud, but also knew he would have to do almost all of the talking with this. He made his way to the media room, which was actually empty but then he heard laughing from the living room and Janus tilted his head that direction. Part of him felt the need to be dramatic, to flicker the lights and scare all of them, the other part of him did want to impress his soulmates. He would just have to wait for the right moment.

"Alright, Roman, what's your greatest fear?" The curly haired one asked and that was Janus' moment.

"Oh I can answer that," He walked in, leaning against the door frame with a smirk. "He's afraid he'll turn out to be like his brother, or at least, what he imagines his brother is."

The room was silent for a moment before the taller one went for his phone. It looked like he was dialing someone when Roman sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"What are you doing here, Janus?" His tone was flat and Janus would have been offended if he wasn't more focused on the importance of what was in front of him.

"Coming to meet my soulmates, since you decided to hide the two of them from us."

"I wasn't hiding anything from them or you," Roman stated and at the same time Logan and Patton spoke.

"Us?"

Virgil slowly walked around the corner. "Sorry to disturb you, I thought it was a bad idea, but also, we didn't want to miss an opportunity to meet you." He looked over at the two men. "I'm Virgil, and this is Janus."

"How cruel of you to not let me introduce myself, but I guess Princy already broke that for me. Yes, my name is Janus and if you'd like me to unrobe, I can prove that the two of us are your soulmates. However, that might offend poor Roman's delicate sensibilities."

"Now see here," Roman shot up, making his way toward Janus but was stopped by Logan.

"Allow me to make sure I have all of the information correct. You know these two men?"

Roman nodded.

"And you were aware that we shared soulmarks."

Roman nodded again. "But, I just realized it today, when we were all in the pool."

Logan hummed and sighed, looking up at Roman. "What else are you hiding?"

Janus smirked at that. "Oh you haven't told them have you?" 

"Quiet," Logan said standing up, "We could very well have you arrested for trespassing. Simply because I am irritated at Roman doesn't mean you are off the hook." He swiveled back to Roman. "What else haven't you told us?"

Patton stood up slowly, putting a hand on Logan's arm. "Hey, love, deep breath. I'm sure Roman has a reason, and isn't it just a bit romantic that they came running to find us as soon as they knew where we were?" He asked with a softness that melted some of Logan's ire. He took in a slow deep breath and turned back to Roman expectantly.

"Do you remember the brother I've told you about?"

"The brother who bullied someone until they left school?"

"You fucking liar!" Virgil hissed, stepping forward. "Is that what you told them about him? You know that was a stupid rumor. Jenna moved because her parents were relocated. The two of them barely interacted." It was Janus' turn to reach out and reign his love in. Patton looked a bit surprised. Logan looked suspicious.

"What about your brother?" Logan asked.

"He's your fourth soulmate." The room was deathly silent for a bit, none of them dared to breathe. "I didn't know, I swear I didn't know until today, and I didn't know how to tell you. Remus really was awful, he was always trying to be in the spotlight, always attempting to do weird things just to get other people's attention. He didn't understand how to behave and he stepped all over people's boundaries. He wasn't a good person, and I wasn't sure how to tell you that the universe decided you should be with someone like that. I was going to tell you eventually, but I just... I didn't know how."

Patton pulled Roman in for a hug. "We know the soulmate subject is tricky for you, but this is a decision you should have let us make." 

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I agree, especially since you have no idea where your brother is." Logan turned to Janus and Virgil, "My name is Logan, would you two happen to know where Remus is?"

They both immediately turned somber and Logan sighed. "Very well, now that we know what we're dealing with. I think it's probably best if you two head home as you weren't invited and you are currently trespassing. Roman, we are going to have a very frank discussion about your brother." He pulled out his phone, opening it up and handing it to Janus. "Please put your phone number in, I shall call you in the morning and we can discuss things further." Janus raised his eyebrow and said nothing as he put his name and number in the phone, adding a heart emoji just for flair.

[Section Break]

After they had left, Logan sighed and rubbed his face. "Roman, I have always been aware that your disdain for your brother might be more than you were willing to admit, however, hiding our soulmate from us is reprehensible at best and an intentional betrayal of our friendship at worst."

Roman's face soured but Logan continued. He didn't want this to turn into an argument, he just wanted to understand. "Tell us about Remus, not your opinions, but what he has actually done."

They had a conversation, a long one, a hard one. It went several hours into the night and at the end of it Patton and Roman, who weren't used to all nighter study sessions, were both exhausted. Logan, on the other hand, wanted to reach out to Janus first. He had gotten as much information as he could from Roman, including Remus' disownment and the location of Remus' boarding school he had been sent to. Logan had a job now. He didn't think Remus would be far from where the boarding school was, especially if he hadn't had the money to leave. Which meant he could construct a radius, and maybe they could go on a field trip. He wanted a chance to meet his soulmate. He wanted to be able to decide for himself whether or not Remus was too much. Logan didn't like being told what he could and couldn't do, what he could and couldn't have. He made the decisions for himself, and he would judge Remus for himself.

He and Patton spent the rest of the night coming up with a plan, Roman consistently sulking in the corner. In the morning the two of them spoke to Remus and Janus again. It was decided, they were going to go on a road trip, not only to try and find Remus, but also in order to get to know one another better. That's what led Patton here, standing with Janus in a coffee shop almost a full state away. The drive had been hard, but fun and they had decided to split up into unfamiliar pairs. Patton was getting to know Janus and the ways he had with words. He was currently sweet talking a barista, acting calm and collected, yet Patton had also seen him go on rants about injustice as he and Logan debated. There were so many sides to Janus and Patton was utterly fascinated.

"Can you tell us anymore about this patron, like what areas he frequents?" The barista shook her head, but then her eyes lit up.

"I don't know where he is, but I think that's him." She was pointing to a figure walking past the coffee shop, shuffling about in a daze. He looked so tired and in need of such care. Patton was moving on his own, quickly making his way to the man with bright green hair, a thunderbolt tattoo on his arm that matched the one of Patton's. As soon as he got to Remus' side, the man faltered and fell into Patton's arms. He must have been exhausted. 

"Angel?" He asked quietly, and Patton couldn't help the smile that lit up his face. He was already starting to like Janus, so of course he was willing to jump into this feet first.

"I'm sorry kiddo, I'm not an Angel, but I think I could fall for you like Lucifer." 

Remus snorted, slowly pushing himself up. "Cute," he muttered, yawning. "Thanks for catching me-"

It seemed like he had more to say, but didn't get a chance as Janus flung himself at Remus. "You're here."

"Jay?" He asked, trepidation and nervousness in his voice before he scooped up Janus, both of them inevitably falling on their asses. It didn't matter, not as Remus continued to call out Janus' nickname, and not as Patton sent a picture to Virgil and Logan. 

Patton could tell, they were going to be the luckiest group ever.

@tsspromptmonth

#Untypical Creations #Sanders Sides #Sanders Side fic #Fanfic #Remus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders #soulmate au #human au

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

if only to counter balance some of the high key femme Virgil hcs. Remus running around in a skater dress with tentacles on the skirt, just being a chaotic mess. Virgil is tired and wants some peace and quiet, until he sees Remus go spinny with the skirt. What's underneath? Not important. Remus is giggling and blushing and happy and Virgil is so fucking gay for that disaster -⚡

Y E S!!! Ree rocked the hell out of the tutu for his skirt look and a skater dress is just flowy enough for his chaotic spinning needs... The Emo may want some peace and quiet but seeing his hot Dukey in the dress is more important than sleep (It definitely woke him up and he won't be sleeping for a while)

#ree may be a ball of chaos but he's vee's ball of chaos <3 #dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #ts remus #ts virgil #sanders sides #thomas sanders #asks #answers #⚡ anon #not a countdown

[gumnut-logic]

Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part Five)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Half of this was written on Thursday and then work interrupted me, but I finally sat down and tackled it today.

Many thanks as always to @onereyofstarlight for being the amazing support she is ::hugs her tight::

Also to all of you who have left amazing comments and notes on this fic ::hugs you ever sooo tight:: You are all ever so kind to me. Thank you ever so much for all your support. I hope the story ends up worth it :D

This one is all about big brothers, history, and the one man who plagues them all. I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

It had been a long day. Alan left Gordon sleeping in Two’s infirmary and went to check on his big brothers.

They had made sure Gordon was okay and left Alan to keep him company before disappearing. Unusual in the world according to big brothers enough to have Alan concerned.

Gords was okay. Just a few cuts to his arms that had required some stitches. Virgil had done the deed while Scott finished up with the danger zone. Hopefully his language had been better with the emergency services than it had been with their brothers since they discovered this was yet another Hood initiated disaster.

Alan had never quite seen his big brother so livid. The Hood had escaped GDF custody yet again, this time dropping a building in Manhattan to reach the gold stashed beneath it.

Hundreds of people were injured and killed in the process.

Scott furious and blistering towards the GDF, Aunt Val, and anyone else who got in his way.

Alan couldn’t help but agree.

Of course, it was Virgil and John who kept them on the straight and narrow. Not that he or any of his brothers would let the asshole affect their job performance.

But when Scott had come across the bastard mid-rescue, a load of gold behind him on an antigrav trolley, it was Dad over comms who held him back.

They had a moral code and they were going to stick with it. Eos managed to infiltrate the trolley’s mechanism and foil the Hood’s plan, but thanks to the need of the rescue and the ineptness of the GDF, the criminal had yet again escaped justice.

Barely.

Gordon had stepped into his path.

Alan wasn’t sure he should be happy that his brother hadn’t been able to stop the man or not. If Scott was livid then Gordon was the temperature of a newborn star. He hated the Hood with a fire born from so much injury.

But as always, the rescue came first and, there in amongst the rubble of a bank his fish brother had to make the choice for good.

So the Hood escaped, the GDF were as useless as always, and Gordon came back with two young children under his bleeding arms.

His curse words were even more colourful than Scott’s.

So, in summary, the day had been shit itself.

Alan was tired and questioning what was right and wrong yet again because of that asshole.

Approaching Two’s cockpit, he could hear the yelling through the bulkhead.

He was too tired for this.

He let himself sink back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“How many times do we have to do this?! How many more have to die before the GDF wakes up to itself?”

“Son...”

Alan blinked. He still wasn’t used to hearing his father’s deep voice. It was like he was in a dream. He knew his father was back on Tracy Island and his presence was simply a hologram sprouting from Two’s dash, but the power in that voice. Dad was alive and Alan was going to revel in every second of it.

“Dad, hasn’t he done enough?!”

“Scott we can’t be judge and jury.”

“Goddamnit, I know that! But do we have to continue to be his victim? He could have killed Gordon today…again!”

“Gordon will be okay, Scott. He handled himself well.” Virgil’s calm and deep voice was a balm.

“He shouldn’t have to! That is not our job. International Rescue saves people. We shouldn’t have to defend ourselves to do that. We cover the GDF’s asses enough already!”

If there was a deep end, his big brother had definitely fallen off it. Scott hated it when his brothers were hurt. Gordon might be fine but Scott obviously wasn’t.

But then Gordy was asleep and on pain medication. Alan suspected that once conscious, Gordon was going to be as bad or even worse than Scott.

It was definitely a military thing.

And as if to prove it, Scott was still going. “Hasn’t he hurt us enough?!” There was a desperation in his brother’s voice that Alan hadn’t heard since before they rescued Dad.

Dad had been relief itself to Scott’s nerves. His return had restored the natural order according to his big brother.

Dad, of course, wasn’t the man who had been taken from them oh so long ago. He had challenges, both medical and mental, much had been taken from him. But he was there with Scott, backup in those moments when his big brother was overwhelmed by all the demands of his position in life.

There for Tracy Industries and there for International Rescue, particularly in moments like these. It was almost as if the voice in his brother’s head that asked ‘what would Dad do?’ finally had some answers.

“Scott, breathe.”

“Dad…” There was a tone of pleading in his voice.

“When you get home, we can talk. You’re twenty minutes out. It has been a very long day. You require rest. I will speak to the GDF. Sit down before you fall down.” A pause full of grumbling. “Virgil?”

A tired sigh. “FAB.”

Whatever Virgil was agreeing to, it was obvious that it was more than just flying home.

Eos had Thunderbird One, Virgil having dragged their big brother onto Two, likely to keep him out of trouble and under observation. There had been several moments during that rescue that could have easily seen any one of them in a hospital or worse. While Scott got angry, Virgil tended to grab all his family members where he could keep an eye on them. His gentle brother wasn’t one for violence, but Alan had witnessed several expressions on the man’s face today that could have landed Two on the Hood’s head without hesitation.

It was clear that Virgil was barely hanging back and that was not a good sign for anyone.

As for Alan, he was beyond anger and well into hurt. The Hood had been haunting their lives as long as he could remember.

He was just tired.

“Virgil, he doesn’t know.” Scott’s voice had lost its anger and shifted into desperation. “He wasn’t here.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

Scott’s exhausted groan said everything. “How many more times, Virg?” His voice had suddenly lost all its power, as if his brother had finally reached the end of a long, long tether. “Mom, Ohana, Dad, Gordon, each of us at one time or another. Gaat just doesn’t give up.”

“Neither do we.” Virgil’s rumble was equally as quiet.

“So, we go on like this forever, just waiting to see who dies first?”

“Scott.” Virgil’s voice had so much love in it, Alan’s heart clenched. “Crossing that line drops us to his level. The man is broken. Please don’t break yourself.”

There was almost a soft wail of frustration just as Alan felt the subtle shift of Two switching from manual to auto pilot. The scuffle of specialised silicone leather on deck plates as bodies moved beyond the hatchway.

Alan reached up to unlatch the door. He wanted nothing more than to burst through the door and hug his big brother. But he stopped himself.

There was a realm that little brothers could not enter. It was a space inhabited by the two eldest and sometimes John, where decisions were made and secrets kept for the wellbeing of the family.

Alan resented it. But he also respected it. As he grew older, he realised that this was a space his big brothers needed. Once Mom had died, their three eldest had been forced into adulthood far too early. He could see that now, even at seventeen.

Scott had been sixteen when they lost their mother and Dad has disappeared into grief. Alan didn’t remember those times.

But he did remember being held by his big brothers. They were the ones who picked him up when he fell over, the ones who attended the special events at school, the ones who were there for as long as he could remember.

Things weren’t perfect, they never could be, but he knew his brothers had tried…for him. Even Gordon who had been only six that fateful day on that mountain.

And when Dad disappeared…

There were no words loud enough to make it through the door anymore. Just the soft rumble of Virgil’s voice unintelligible at its soft volume.

Alan stared at the green metal of the door, Scott’s plea bouncing around his head.

‘Mom, Ohana, Dad, Gordon…’

Three of the most important moments in Alan’s life. Of course, he didn’t remember Mom or Kayo’s mom, but god did he remember Dad. He closed his eyes.

Gordon.

Alan knew Kyrano believed Gaat had been responsible for his wife’s death, and that Dad’s ‘death’ had been the last straw.

Did Scott think the Hood was involved in all the tragedies in their family’s life?

Alan bit his lip.

Big brothers had big secrets.

He wondered if Gordon had come to the same conclusion. There had been no mention of the Hood’s involvement with the hydrofoil. But then he was definitely involved with Gordon nearly dying at the bottom of the ocean…twice. The last time had been so close.

Alan’s throat closed up again.

Was that one man responsible for all of it?

No wonder Scott was ready to do something drastic. Gordon couldn’t know. It wasn’t possible. Gordon would have gone ballistic so long ago…

How had Scott kept himself in check? He had actually saved the man on multiple occasions. Grandma had definitely helped with that. Maybe the part of Dad Scott kept close to his heart. Maybe Virgil.

John? Did their middle brother know? John knew everything, didn’t he?

Then why was the Hood still in existence?

Did their moral code run that deep?

Did his own?

He suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. The thought of his big brothers finding him eavesdropping…

On soft feet, he slipped away, heading back to where they thought they had left him, beside Gordon.

Thoughts spinning in his head.

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Business Dealings

There were definite advantages to being the ‘unknown’ Tracy, Virgil decided.

And in his opinion, the very best of these was the extra freedom he had over his brothers.

Virgil smiled at the attractive and attentive waitress who delivered his – decidedly unhealthy – lunch to his private booth, then rolled his shoulders, grinning to himself.

His brothers might have public success, a public profile, and receive some … interesting fan mail, that certainly enlivened quiet days on Tracy Island; but the price they paid for this recognition was, well, recognition.

It had gotten to the point that Jeff had mandated personal security for the four of his sons who had existed in the public eye. Virgil, however …

There was no way a bodyguard would have let him into this neighbourhood, let alone this dive of a diner – that made the world’s best burger and fries, hands down. And the looming gorillas in suits that were Tracy Industries personal protection specialists definitely discouraged the kind of ‘friendly’ service the waitress was giving him.

A gaggle of teenagers came bouncing into the diner, drawing away the waitress. Virgil watched bemusedly as one of the boys started teasing her.

He drowned a laugh in his milkshake, as she bapped one on the head with her notebook, reminding Virgil of Scott dealing with Gordon in one of his troublemaking moods.

Virgil ate as the waitress settled the group, and took their orders.

Once they had been served their food, she checked back in with him, and promptly fetched his requested coffee.

Then she sat herself at the table with the teens. “So what was all the noise about when you came in?”

“We’re celebrating!” came the chorus.

“Celebrating what?”

“Johnny got his photos back!” crowed the obvious sibling.

“And what photos are those, then?”

“Well, you know how that busted old factory over in Industrial East blewed itsself up?”

“It was kinda hard to miss. They’re still tryin’ to replace all the windows it broke, after two weeks.”

“Yeah, well, there was those two guys trapped, and they had ta get International Rescue to get ‘em out.”

“I know that.”

So did Virgil. It had been a nightmare rescue, and was a completely avoidable situation. Virgil was in town now as Tracy Industries representative; his father was buying the site, and the attached business. It had been a viable manufacturer, with a good product – the disaster had been caused by greedy management.

Jeff was trying to prevent an even bigger disaster – the collapse of a middle sized town. For all it was a ‘busted old factory’, it was a major employer in the region. The people deserved better.

The waitress continued, “Wish I’d been able to see them. Either the planes or the men. Pity I was stuck here.”

Little brother laughed. “Well, today’s your lucky day!”

Virgil froze. The boy hadn’t paid him any attention when he came in, he couldn’t have been there and recognised Virgil, could he?

His fingers strayed to his watch. Should he call his Father? Could he contain the situation here on his own?

“Cause Johnny here is a genius, and he thought to grab his camera. So here, today, is the first ever photographs of the …”

“THUNDERBIRDS!” the group shouted in unison, and broke out cheering.

Virgil started, slopping coffee onto himself, but now he had bigger worries. Brains was trialling a new technology in the ships, with a view to replacing the Photo Detectors, after the detection system had failed at that movie set, and Scott hadn’t reported activity of either system at debrief. Had the new technology disrupted the Detectors? Had the Photo Jammers worked?

The waitress noticed his mishap, and hurried over, napkins at the ready. “I’m so sorry, did you scald yourself? Can I get you a fresh cup?”

Virgil shook his head, accepting the wad of napkins. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I was in a world of my own and I got startled by the noise.” He smiled. “I’m not normally so jumpy.”

She smiled in return. “They were loud, but, please, don’t mind those idiots. They’re a little excitable.”

Virgil deposed of the dampened napkins – he was going to have to change his shirt, his father would kill him if he turned up at a business meeting with a giant coffee stain on his shirt, and turned back to the waitress. “Sounds like it. Was that the Thunderbirds they were shouting about?”

She glared back at the group. “Oh yes, we had a bit of excitement a couple of weeks back. International Rescue saved two guys from a factory fire across town. Johnny here reckons he got photographs of them.”

“Yeah! We were just gonna have our first look! You wanna see?” The teens where hanging over Virgil’s booth, grinning, and immensely pleased with themselves.

Virgil nodded. “I’d heard they had some kind of system to stop photos being taken,” he ventured as the kids piled in across from him.

“Yeah, well I shot these beauties, no problem,” boasted one boy. Virgil eyed him, worriedly, trying to see if he could recognise the boy, but couldn’t. Hopefully the fact that Virgil had spent the whole time in his fire-suit would mean the boy couldn’t recognise him.

Apparently there was nothing about Virgil that rang any bells in ‘Johnnys’ memories; either that, or he was too focused on his moment of glory. “You’re lucky, mista,” the boy continued. “‘Cus the rest of the world is gonna hafta pay to see these!” He grinned. “And pay big! Hell, I might even buy myself an island, like that astronaut weirdo!”

There was laughter and catcalls at this pronouncement, and Virgil carefully swallowed his reaction. He gestured to the envelope. “Well, before you call the realtors, better check the goods.”

There were enthusiastic cries of encouragement, and the envelope was opened with a care that amused Virgil. Johnny couldn’t have been more careful if he had been handling the Mona Lisa.

The first two photographs were blurry generic landscapes, then a series of five less blurry images of bared backsides hanging out of a car’s windows at traffic lights. Virgil picked one up, and examined it briefly, before it was snatched out of his hand by a red-faced boy. Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, “One of his models, I take it?”

The boy flushed even brighter red, as the waitress laughed.

“No!” That was Johnny, staring, bug eyed at the top photo in his hand. Virgil craned his neck. A blurry, staticky mess of grey tones filled the centre of the image framed by the clear, focused image of the fire ravaged factory building.

The group fell silent.

The image was discarded in favour of the next in the stack. “No!”

The next. “No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

All the way down the stack. Every image had the same distortion, sometimes in the centre, sometimes there were smaller, multiple areas of distortion.

Virgil could tell what the boy had been trying to photograph by the relative sizes and positions. Thunderbird One. Thunderbird Two. Both Thunderbirds. Thunderbird Two on her struts. Thunderbird Two with her module open. The Diceltalyne Ladder truck ….

If it International Rescue had it on site, Johnny had tried to photograph it. Including, Virgil noted, himself and his brothers. Those zoomed in shots with the four small blurs could only be an attempt to photograph people.

Virgil was impressed. Kid clearly had some quality gear.

When Virgil said as much, Johnny roused himself enough to offer a slight proud grin. “Yeah, my uncle gave it to me, he’s a professional photographer and upgraded. I got his old stuff.” The boy wilted again. “Not that it did me much good,” he mumbled, staring at the blurry images.

Virgil smiled wryly. “International Rescue are pretty adamant about the no photographs thing,” he reminded the boy. “Looks like I heard right about their anti-photography kit.”

Johnny sighed. “Yeah.” He shuffled the photographs back into a stack, before glancing around the room. “There goes my private island,” he sighed. “Oh well.”

Virgil took the stack from him, and perused through it again. Johnny looked utterly miserable, and the rest of the gang was equally morose.

Virgil came to a decision. “You get these developed in town here?” he asked.

Johnny nodded. “Yeah, drugstore down on First does photos.”

Virgil slid out the ‘International Rescue’ photos into their own pile. “They do enlargements, say A4 size?”

Johnny frowned. “Yeah. Why do you want to know?”

“What’s he charge?”

There was a muttered argument across the table, and the waitress watched him warily. Johnny offered up a price. Virgil suppressed a smirk. Kid was damn good, price was high, but not so high as to be implausible.

He did a quick spot of mental arithmetic. Then reconsidered, before sliding one of the traffic stop images onto the International Rescue pile, and pulled out his wallet, before counting out a number of notes on the pile, before pushing it towards Johnny.

“I’ll be back here this time tomorrow,” he said. “Think you can be here with A4 copies of all these?”

The boy gaped at the cash. “Uh, yeah. I guess so. Why?”

Virgil tapped the cash. “If you are, you get the same amount again. That should keep you in film, and out of trouble for a while.”

The boy stared. “But … but you can’t see anything. They’re all blurry.”

Virgil nodded. “Yep. But I know a lot of guys interested in International Rescue. These …” he gestured at the photos. “Will drive them nuts.” He grinned at the boy.

Who grinned back.

The waitress looked at Virgil suspiciously. “And the, uh, ass picture?”

Virgil grinned. “I took some similar photos, when I first got a camera, about Johnny’s age,” he admitted. “My Grandma found them, and tore them up, and then tore strips off me.” He shrugged, sheepishly. “Figured it’d be nice to have something to remind me of the out night I had with my friends. ‘Cause we had a lot of fun.”

As the boys hooted in glee, and high-fived each other, the waitress stared at Virgil, before softening. “Boys,” she snorted.

Virgil shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”

The next day, Virgil wandered into the diner, and was surprised to find Johnny already waiting for him, shifting from foot to foot, anxiously.

Virgil slid into the booth he had occupied the previous day, and Johnny followed him, clutching a large envelope to his chest.

The waitress wandered over, and took Virgil’s order. She looked at Johnny. Virgil followed her gaze. “If you’re eating, I’m paying,” he said.

Johnny shook his head. “Nah,” he mumbled, not meeting Virgil’s eyes. Virgil frowned, and glanced at the waitress in askance. She shrugged, before wandering off.

“What’s up? Problem with the pictures?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda.”

Virgil stared. “What’s the problem? Couldn’t get them all printed?”

Johnny mumbled at the tabletop. “I didn’t think about it. I just … took the photos. I didn’t think about what could happen.”

Virgil frowned. “What could happen?” he echoed.

“They say no photos. They say they have to stay secret. I didn’t think …”

Virgil got it. “You’re worried that someone might be able to unscramble these pictures, and then they’ll stop working. You’re worried about the people who might die if that happens, people who’ll die because of photos you took.”

Johnny stared at him. “Yeah, how’d you …?”

Virgil shrugged. “Because I’d worry about the same thing, if I were in your place.”

“So why’d …”

“Why’d I offer to buy the photos?” Virgil glanced around, checking for anybody listening. “Because International Rescue saved two of my friends. And my dad.”

The boy stared.

Virgil sighed, and pulled out his wallet, digging into a hidden section, he pulled out a folded up newspaper clipping. He opened it up, and pushed it across the table to Johnny.

He picked it up, and read the article.

He frowned, and read it again.

Then stared at Virgil.

“Th-this says that they saved … J-jeff …”

Virgil nodded. “Yup.”

“Your dad’s one of his advisors?” The boy was practically begging Virgil to agree.

Virgil shook his head. “Nope. His advisors are my friends.”

“Y-y-you’re …”

Virgil took pity on him. “I’m Jeff Tracy’s son. Well, one of them. He asked me to come and oversee the purchase of that ‘busted old factory’.”

The boy stared. “Why?”

“It was a good business. The problem was with the managers, not the product, not the production. And without that factory, this town dies.”

Johnny stared at him.

Virgil took back his newspaper clipping as the waitress put down his order. Virgil chewed down a dozen fries and drank a good half of his coffee while he waited for Johnny to regather his wits.

Eventually his companion spoke. “Your dad’s like mega-rich.”

“Yup.”

“He has all sorts of people working for him.”

“Yup.”

“I give you these photos,” Johnny tapped the envelope, “you give them to him.”

Virgil shrugged. “That was the plan.”

“And he gives them to some hotshot photograph technician who unscrambles the images …”

“Wrong.”

Johnny stared at him.

“Most of my training is as an engineer, but I really love art. I’ve done a few – more than a few – photography courses. The kind of mess you’ve got there,” Virgil indicated the envelopes, “is some kind of electronic – maybe even x-ray – emission messing up the film. Unless you know the frequencies, it’d take oh, I don’t know, a hundred people a million years to unscramble those images.”

The boy blinked.

“And you’d need the negatives,” Virgil added, deciding this his burger had been neglected for long enough, and took a bite, watching as Johnny thought it through.

Johnny frowned. “You’d really need the negatives?”

Virgil nodded, his mouth full of – really delicious – burger.

Johnny nodded thoughtfully. “I remember my uncle saying that you need the original negatives to do proper forensic analysis of a photograph. That’s why a photographer should never let go of his negatives.”

Virgil nodded again, taking another bite. Damn, he was gonna miss this place when he left. Grandma and Kyrano were fantastic cooks, but a proper greasy diner burger was hard to beat.

He finished the burger before Johnny moved again. Evidently the boy had come to some kind of decision, because he pulled out a negatives folder, and slid the ashtray into the centre of the table. “You got a light?” he asked as he dumped the negatives into ashtray.

Virgil frowned. “You not gonna save the rest of your negatives?”

Johnny shook his head. “They’re blurry as all hell, and useless, no point.”

Virgil eyed him, but the teen was resolute. Virgil shrugged. “Well, if you’re sure,” he pulled out his cigarette lighter, a cheap disposable thing that frustrated his father and brothers, but suited Virgil fine. He pulled it back, when Johnny reached for it. “Not inside,” he said firmly. “Film burns fast, and film burns hot. You do not want to do this inside.”

They went outside, Virgil borrowing a broom from the bemused waitress to sweep clear a large patch of asphalt as far from the diner and anything flammable as he could get. At his gesture, Johnny put the negatives down, weighed against the breeze by a small piece of wood, as Virgil wrapped a scrap of cleaning cloth around one end of a long stick.

When Johnny was ready, Virgil used his lighter to light the cloth, and handed the stick to Johnny. “Arm and stick length,” he commanded. “Stay up wind.”

As Virgil had known it would, the film burst into enthusiastic and hot flame the second the lit stick touched it. Johnny jumped, and dropped the stick, swearing.

The fire didn’t last for long, and Virgil picked up the stick stamping down on the charred end to put out the residual flame, before using it to poke at the pathetic ashes in front of them.

Johnny stared, bug eyed again as Virgil poked the ashes, and pushed the pathetic scraps of film into the melted asphalt, sealing them away forever.

Virgil glanced at him. “You okay?”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah. I just never … damn, that was … scary.”

Virgil shrugged. But he did remember the first time he had tried burning film … He’d had a hang of a time explaining how the bathroom basin had gotten cracked through. Who’d have thought you could crack porcelain with a couple of strips of photographic film? Not fourteen-year-old Virgil Tracy.

They went back into the diner, and Virgil ordered milkshakes. Johnny slurped his as Virgil examined his new purchases. He grinned. Brains would be pleased that his new photo jammers worked beautifully, and against some high-grade kit. Johnny had been coaxed into describing the equipment his uncle had given him, and it was better than a lot of the professional paparazzi had hanging from their necks.

Virgil’s grin widened as he got the bottom of the stack. Oh, memory. His backside burned with the memory of his grandmother’s ire, but he owed Gordon, and he owed Gordon big. This would do nicely.

Let’s see him ‘paint’ with his butt on Virgil’s good canvases after Grandma had thrashed him for having this.

Virgil was on a high as he left the diner for the last time; Johnny practically skipping off, his stomach and wallet full, and conscience clean.

International Rescue: Protected.

Payback for Gordon: Secured.

It was just the Tracy Industries deal left to finalise, and he’d have a clean sweep.

It was a good day.

Notes:

I sat down to write a completely different story, and this happened.

One day I may get to write the story I intended to write, but for now …

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #fanfiction #my fanfic #virgil tracy #photography #boys will be boys