#Rest In Peace Virgil

[king-super-saiyan]

🧳💼👝🗽🏙️ ✨

[indeedgoodman]

[askthewitchhunter]

PEEPAW HOW DID YOU GET STUCK UP THERE

That is NONE of your concern!

*fling*

*CLANG*

[king-super-saiyan]

🧳💼👝💵💰

[indeedgoodman]

[elliehase-blog]

We're simply meant to be

I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.

~*~

In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.

»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«

There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.

Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.

»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.

After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«

So maybe it is a date after all.

Perhaps.

(It’s certainly not.)

For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?

But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.

How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.

In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.

He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'

Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.

Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.

»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«

Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.

»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«

Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.

»Pleeeaaase!«

Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.

»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.

»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.

[lefaystrent]

Janus stumbles upon a tiny black kitten.

It's just sitting there, a tiny ball of adorable floof on the sidewalk edge. Janus glances around, as if someone will miraculously appear on the abandoned street to claim ownership. But he's in the mindscape, and honestly the street only goes in a square around Thomas's apartment building. There's only so much real estate you can fit into one man's head. At any rate, the other sides hardly venture out here. This kitten is totes fucked unless Janus does something.

"Oh I couldn't possibly," Janus demures at the narrator. "Besides, it's imaginary. I'm sure it'll be fine on its own."

"Mew," chirps the ball of floof and emerges out of its loafing position to waddle in Janus's direction.

Janus, lord of the lies and all things deception, evil mastermind extradonaire, feels his breath hitch.

Just look at the little paws.

"No!" Janus exclaims, shaking out of his cute-induced stupor. "The last pet I had was Sacagawea the hamster, and we all know what happened to her! Not that I care about teacup sized critters. Begone, little beast."

"Mew," another plaintive meow comes as the kitten reaches his ankles. It swats at him with its stubby claws, trying and failing to climb his pants leg.

"I am a gentleman of standards," Janus tells the cat seriously.

The puny kitten looks up at him imploringly with round-saucer like eyes.

Janus drops to the ground and coos, "Oh no, you're meeting all of my standards!"

The kitten starts up a punitive-engine of a purr as Janus scoops it up in his gloved hands. It chirps intermittently and Janus's ice-cold snake heart melts.

"I'm not keeping you," Janus promises fondly. "This doesn't go beyond a simple scratching. Do I make myself clear?"

"Meeew," the kitten squeaks and Janus nearly falls over himself to bring the kitten's face to his so he can rub their noses together.

The next day the sides are in the midst of filming a video with Thomas in his living room when Logan cuts himself off in the middle of citing his sources to say, "What was that noise?"

"Sorry, I ate burritos earlier," Remus apologizes, not appearing very apologetic.

"No, it sounded like–" Logan cuts himself off again as everyone hears the sound this time.

A muffled mewing.

All eyes fall on Janus in his corner. He stands there, seemingly unaffected, but upon closer inspection with eyeballs, one can see how stiff his posture is.

Patton peers closer with his balls of eyes. "Jan...is this that mewing trend all the kids are doing nowadays?"

"That is not what that means," Roman says, but he's mostly distracted with staring at Janus. "Wanna tell us something, Cat in the Hat?"

The deceitful side bristles. "I haven't the foggiest what you mean."

Janus's hat meows. More than that, there's something shuffling underneath.

Thomas's mouth is slightly agape as he asks, "Janus, did your hat just meow?"

"It did nothing of the sort."

"Kiddo, do you have a kitty cat under there or are you just happy to see us?"

"I– since when do you make jokes like that?"

"Jokes like what?" Patton blinks back.

Janus rolls his eyes and brushes imaginary lint off his imaginary shoulder. "Nevermind. Weren't we discussing Thomas's never-ending cycle of conundrums?"

"Yeeeah," Virgil drags the word out. "You can't just act like we all can't see your hat moving."

"Yes, and we all heard it meowing," Logan muses, ignoring Janus's automatic hissing of, "You heard nothing!"

"But why the hat?" Thomas ponders.

Logan nods, also curious, "Is this a coping mechanism after the loss of Sacagawea the hamster?"

"May she rest in peace, amen," Patton prays while Roman performs a Catholic cross over himself.

Thomas glances at all of them, "You guys know that I never actually owned a pet hamster, right?"

"Dude, too soon," Virgil chides him, and Thomas has the consideration to look abashed.

Janus crosses his arms to look cool. He doesn't. He keeps tipping his head this way and that to keep his hat from toppling over.

"This is a perfectly normal way for me to stand," Janus says.

Roman secretly slides Remus five bucks. Remus dives onto the floor and army crawls behind Janus. Somehow everyone but Janus sees it.

"By all means, do keep staring," Janus says, guarded and on edge and his rolls definitely tootsied. What.

Remus rises up behind him. Off comes the hat.

"Mew!"

"Oh my goodness, that's so precious!!" Patton squeals.

The kitten is belly flopped on top of Janus's head. It's so small that it almost gets lost in the hair, if not for the stark contrast against Janus's lighter color.

"Hey Virgil, it looks just like you!" Roman crows, earning himself a well deserved middle finger.

"Drat, you've uncovered my secret," Janus drones and gives Remus a withering look that promises they will exchange words later. Remus is too wrapped up in giving little chin scritches to the kitty to be bothered.

Thomas also inevitably succumbs to cuteness overload, but he does manage to ask why the heck Janus felt like he needed to keep the cat a secret.

"Because Thomas," Janus throws his arm out to make his cloak flare out. For the drama. Then he flourishes his hand towards the cat on his head. "You weren't ready to meet this new side of yourself, but I guess the cat is out of the bag."

"The cat was under a hat, to clarify."

"LITERALLY NO ONE ASKED YOU, LOGAN!"

"No one ever does, and yet that would solve over half of Thomas's problems."

"When you mean new side, does that mean...?" Thomas asks Janus, his voice filling with wonder. His eyes are getting that crazed glint in his eyes, like he's five seconds away from becoming a Florida Man meme. The background music ramps up into a crescendo at this new epiphany. Thomas knew there were more sides he hadn't met, but to think–!

"No, no, no," Logan says, waving his hands in an X motion. "This is a misunderstanding created from Janus's misleading statement. Don't do this–whatever it is you're doing. Stop it."

Virgil weighs in as well, "Hate to break it to you, but your most animal side is Janus."

"Does this mean Thomas is a furry?" Remus gasps.

"Yesss," Janus hisses out. Then he thinks about it. "I mean no. I mean– what?"

"So what's the baby's name?" Patton asks. He has come close too to join Remus in the giving of scratchies. A noble cause!

"It's a black cat, so why not Catman?" Roman offers. "I am the darkness. I am the night. I am...Catman!"

"Very original," Virgil praises, but it's just subtly sarcastic enough that Roman gives an heartfelt, "Thank you!"

"Can I pet?" Thomas asks, hand reaching out hopefully.

The sides grimace and wince.

"Oooh, yeah, about that..."

"Sorry, man."

"You can't actually..."

"Imaginary, remember?"

"Maybe if you think really hard and imagine touching fur..."

"Don't patronize him. Not with this."

"Yeah, kitty buisness is serious buisness."

"Are we ever going to return to the original topic?"

"Cats take priority. Don't you know that?"

"By what parameters? And by whom?"

"It's like when a cat falls asleep in your lap. By law, you cannot disturb it. On pain of death."

"A bit overdramatic, but not wrong. It's an actual thing."

"Achoo!"

"Bless you."

"Thank you!"

"Patton, why are you petting a cat when you know you're allergic?"

"You would think that imaginary cats wouldn't agitate allergies."

"Thomas has a really vivid imagination."

"Why does everything innocent sound dirty coming out of your mouth?"

"Speaking of mouths and coming–"

Thomas, Patton, and Roman all shove their hands over their ears and scream, "LA LA LA!"

With everyone distracted (as part of Janus's master plan), Janus uses the moment of ensuing chaos to skeddadle away.

They never do learn the kitty's name, but they do eventually discover a horde of cats in Janus's room at some point, but that's another story.

[dukeyeatsdeodorant]

Logan, on the couch, reading a book:

Virgil, walks up to Logan, pushes his arms up and lays down on his lap:

Logan, stares at him in shock then smiles softly: Are you alright?

Virgil, just nods quietly:..Can you read to me?

Logan: Of course.

Virgil continues to rest in Logans lap while Logan reads his book aloud to him. So peaceful, so cozy.

Remus, giggles as he sneaks up to Logan:

Logan, closes his book with a gentle look on his face:

Remus: B-

Logan throws the book at Remus before he can attempt at doing whatever he had planned

[frangipanilove]

Full Circle Apple Symbolism; Rick's "Resurrection" in TOWL

From TWD 10x13 What We Become to TOWL 1x6 The Last Time

Apple symbolism was always tied to Rick and Michonne specifically, but in a more general sense, it tells a story about reunion, rebirth and resurrection.

In TWD 10x13 What We Become, Michonne went with Virgil to his island, because he insisted there were weapons to be found there, and Michonne needed weapons for the Whisperers war.

Once there, things took a turn. There were no weapons, and Virgil wasn't in a great place, psychologically speaking. He was confused and traumatized after the loss of his wife and children. He trapped Michonne in a room, and poisoned her by mixing Jimsonweed into her tea.

My favorite way to decipher symbolism in TWDU is through etymology. Almost everything in TWDU has multiple layers of symbolism, and an etymology search is helpful in most cases. This one was no exception; the name Jimsonweed is ultimately derived from a Hindi name which translates to "thorn apple".

Yup. Jimsonweed is ultimately an apple reference. In fact, "Jimsonweed" goes under the name "thorn apple" in many languages, my own included.

The first apple reference of the episode came as we watched Virgil pick the hallucinogenic plant immediately after the opening credits. There would be more to come later...

Michonne did not have a pleasant reaction to the drug. She hallucinated herself in a series of alternate existences, such as being one of the Saviors, and not being around her real family. After the drugs wore off, she overpowered Virgil, and scolded him for putting her in a drugged out state where she experienced having temporarily lost her family:

Then she asked him about his hallucinations:

And this is where we start to touch on the true meaning behind the symbolism around apples. Because, unlike Michonne, Virgil experienced that the hallucinogenic thorn apple brought his family back to him:

"What do you see when you're tripping anyway?"

"Lisa with that damn camera pointed at everyone.

My babies.

Bobby and me lying on the roof of that Annex, looking up at the stars."

It brought his family back.

Virgil wasn't primarily evil, he was broken from the trauma of losing his family.

There's a parallel with Rick there. Where Rick survived in the CRM by meeting up with his loved ones in his dreams, Virgil got to be with his family by taking hallucinogenic herbs. They both found ways to stay close to their loved ones through an altered state, Rick through his dreams, Virgil through the thorn apple tea.

On a surface level, it's clear that Michonne had a bad trip from the thorn apple, and that she was shook by what she experienced as a temporary loss of her family. She was rightfully angry about having been drugged. Virgil, more confused and traumatized than evil, explained that he had wanted to help her because he could tell she was in pain over having lost loved ones, much like himself.

Michonne was not impressed, but at the very least she didn't kill him.

However, under the surface, the apple symbolism heralds "reunion, rebirth and resurrection", something which she was about to discover:

Virgil took her to a boat marked with the numbers 672, in which she found Rick's boots and an Apple iPhone with etchings of herself and Judith. It was the same boat we later saw in 11x24 Rest In Peace, when we saw Rick throw his backpack onboard, before being recaptured.

This is the first "proof of life" both we, the audience, and Michonne got from Rick, and it was the apple symbolism that led us here. Because, apple symbolism is about reunion, resurrection and rebirth.

As we know, finding the Apple iPhone and his boots was what convinced her Rick could be alive, it was what encouraged her to leave to search for Rick.

We recently watched her succeed at finding him in TOWL, but not without some resistance from a deeply traumatized Rick.

In TOWL 1x4 What We, which is the episode where Rick fully "came back", the episode where he finally broke free and chose "life" with Michonne over staying "dead" in the CRM, we learned that he had initially gotten through the days in the CRM by meeting up with Carl in his dreams.

Then that had stopped, Carl had stopped coming to him in his dreams.

Michonne had gotten an iPhone with an etching of Carl, and implored Rick to do what Carl would have wanted him to do, which led to a psychological breakthrough for Rick.

This was Rick's true "resurrection", this was when he fully "surrendered" to Michonne, to his family, to "life". It was the Apple iPhone with Carl's picture that truly made Michonne able to reach through to him, through all the layers of trauma and isolation accumulated over time.

On a symbolic level, the apple symbolism and the Apple iPhones were what facilitated this reunion between Rick and Michonne. He had survived in the CRM by "being dead", then the Apple iPhone with Carl's picture "brought him back to life".

This symbolized Rick's "resurrection", this was the true purpose of the apple symbolism all along. Apple symbolism is about "reunion, resurrection and rebirth"!

Similarly, it was the Apple iPhone Michonne found in the boat on Virgil's island that made her believe that Rick could truly be alive, it was the Apple iPhone that convinced her he was out there, that made her go out searching for him.

Apple symbolism as something that heralds reunion, resurrection and rebirth had started with Virgil picking the white thorne apple flower in 10x13 What We Become, and was fulfilled with Rick's "resurrection" in TOWL 1x4 What We.

In 1x6 The Last Time, we see Rick utilize this new insight during Major General Beale's Echelon briefing:

"He brought me back".

The Apple iPhone with Carl's picture brought him back. Back to Michonne, back to his family, back to himself, back to life.

Just like how the thorn apple tea brought Virgil's family back to him, the Apple iPhone with Carl's picture brought Rick back to his family.

Then finally, we see the apple symbolism fulfilled one last time:

We see Michonne holding the Apple iPhone she originally found on Virgil's island, the one that convinced her that Rick could be alive, the one that prompted her to go out searching for him. We see this phone, with etchings of herself and Judith just as the apple symbolism comes full circle:

The final reunion, resurrection and rebirth!

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 36 - Lost

What went before

If you’re new to this madness It might make sense to read at least chs 28 & 29 to meet Bez and find out what Scott’s deal with dogs is… and maybe 35 as that happens literally just before this and will explain why he’s wobbly. Alternatively, yolo - dive in and see if you can make any sense of this mad little scene which wasn’t even in the plot outline but once I pictured it refused to be left out. ☺️

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Despite the early hour, the streets were busy with folk on whatever missions drew them out into the late spring sunshine. Most of these appeared to involve heading downhill, towards the seafront, but at a frustratingly ambling pace.

Bez carved a path through the crowd and Estera weaved her way behind while Scott, unused to feeling like the bulky member of a duo, tried to follow in her wake before the gaps closed after her. He found himself continually apologising to the various beach-equipment-laden people he bumped with a shoulder or an elbow.

Of course if he considered them a trio, he’d arguably have to concede the majority of the bulk was with the four legged one… even without the floof, the Pyr was a wall of muscle that even Virgil might think twice about opposing.

Despite that, and despite the extreme drool and (he suppressed the urge to shiver at the thought) the perfectly-normal-amount-of-teeth-for-his-species… Scott was beginning to genuinely warm to the creature. Not least because in the half hour following Scott’s embarrassing wobble and their ‘moment’ of understanding over his drool-soaked peace offering, Bez had barely left Scott’s side.

Though he would deny it vehemently to most anyone who asked, it was kind of comforting being shadowed by a giant teddy bear. Solid, mostly immovable, but enthusiastically (overwhelmingly) affectionate. As long as you didn’t try to make him do anything he hadn’t already decided to, Bez was pretty much benign. Kind of a cross between Virgil before 9am and Gordon on a sugar high, he mused, only rather hairier and maybe marginally less coherent…

Yeah it was going pretty well. The faint scratching at the edge of his consciousness was ignorable. Hopefully if he could handle a dog this size, then others would become ok too and he would get back to a place where they didn’t even have to be a consideration. He just needed to get enough of a grip on himself not to completely fall apart when he was taken by surprise…

He felt a hot little prickle of shame flow through his face as he recalled Edith’s concerned face at the window. It had barely registered at the time but she must have heard Estera call out to him. If only he’d managed to get inside before… ugh. Strangely he couldn’t find he was so bothered by Estera seeing that kind of weakness in him... perhaps because she had before. But other people… he couldn’t afford for other people to know. It wasn’t… just… no. He needed to be stronger than that.

He was sure he hadn’t made a sound but Estera suddenly gave him a look over her shoulder, a mildly raised eyebrow and then a slight frown as if she could hear the direction his thoughts were taking and disapproved.

He gave her his best reassuring smile.

She smiled faintly back, clearly unconvinced, but was forced to return her attention to not falling over a large pushchair that stuck out across their path.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he was being too hard on himself… after all it was always going to be a tricky day. Perhaps the trickiest in a string of hard days in the hardest season - the time of year when he was less able to ignore the quiet truth that despite being rescued there was a little part of him that had always remained lost.

But the rest of him was alive and so was she. And the air was warm and the sky was blue. He took a deep appreciative breath then mumbled another apology as he twisted sideways to edge past a person hefting two enormous drinks coolers and a large rucksack.

Anyway, he refocused his wandering mind, it was good to have Bez there, because any passers by who might have any attention to spare them were looking at the enormous white dog-mountain and not the awkwardly tall man with the face people often seemed to find oh-so-familiar. As ever, he was hiding behind his beloved aviators and a nondescript baseball cap but for once he felt perhaps he didn’t need to. That felt good too.

He chuckled as Estera put on a sudden spurt of speed, dragged forwards by her beloved hellhound then startled as they unexpectedly veered to the right down a side street. Scott, unable to change direction in time was carried along by the crowd for a few moments before he was able to battle his way back up the narrow sidewalk, apologising still more as he pushed against the flow.

He found his friend crouched in front of a tiny child who was sobbing out a garbled explanation of why she’d let go of her brother’s hand and how badly she wanted her mama and daddy. Bez had curled himself around her back and she seemed entirely unworried by this despite the dog being taller than she was. In fact Scott could see a small hand clinging tightly to the longer fur by the his neck.

Scott dropped to his knees next to Estera “Hey there, we’ll find them for you. What’s your name?”

The little girl peered up at him and wailed:

“T-T-Twaceee. I’s Twacy an’ ‘m lost!”

Huh. What were the chances of that?

He looked at Estera and she nodded agreement. Leaving them there, the little girl having buried her face back in Bez’s furry shoulder while Estera chatted soothingly. The cars were moving fairly slowly and he rated his chances of being seen reasonably highly, what with the height and all. He hopped off the kerb and jogged down the road, calling out to people as he passed:

“Excuse me, has anyone lost a Tracy?”

“We have a little girl called Tracy back there, does anyone know…?

“I need to find Tracy’s parents?”

“Sorry, I’m looking for Tracy’s Mom and Dad?”

“Tracy’s Mommy and Daddy? No?”

“Tracy? I have a lost Tracy?”

Some sympathetic looks but not a glimmer of recognition. This wasn’t working. And he was getting too far away. He stopped and waited for a cyclist to swerve around him then yelled at the top of his voice:

“I NEED TRACY’S PARENTS!”

Scott paused, suddenly overcome by a hollow feeling in his gut and a bitter taste on his tongue.

He huffed a small laugh to himself. Didn’t he just?

He rounded a corner and came upon a kerfuffle up ahead as people tried to bypass a blockage on the sidewalk. In moments the blockage resolved itself into a wild eyed and clearly panicking couple dragging an overladen trolley and a slightly older child in a large sunhat who was dragging his feet with an air of mutiny. He didn’t really need further confirmation but the man’s gasp of “Did you say Tracy? Thank God!” provided it anyway.

Excited giggles greeted them as they rounded the corner and then at a high pitched cry of “Skacz! Łapa!” Bez leaped into the air then landed on all fours and shook himself vigorously.

“Well done! He likes you!” Estera patted her on the back and little Tracy clapped in delight. The smaller of Scott’s companions pushed past and ran over to join them.

“Bez! Miss H!”

“Oh hello, Jeff!” She looked up and smiled warmly. “Is this your little sister?”

“Your kids are Jeff and Tracy?!” Scott’s reaction slipped out before he could stop himself.

Belatedly recognising the young lad from the rescue and worried he might recognise him in turn, Scott tugged at the peak of his cap and slouched a little. Fortunately Jeff was entirely absorbed by ruffling Bez’s ears.

The father laughed and tilted his head with a fond smile towards his partner who was fussing over their toddler. Tracy seemed disinclined to be parted from her new bestest fwend and the pouting bottom lip trembled as Estera called him to heel.

“The missus is a bit of a fan.”

Scott summoned the pleasant, professional smile he used time and again when forced to pretend to strangers that he was entirely comfortable with the topic of conversation.

“He was a great man.”

“He’s not dead.” The woman cut in forcefully without looking up.

Scott blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t say ‘was’. He’s definitely still alive. That leaked explosion footage was a deep fake. The GDF were trying to silence him before he exposed widespread corruption in the World Government and so he had to go undercover to escape. It’s pretty common knowledge, is all over the internet.”

Well. That… that was a new one. Scott made a mental note to have a little chat to John about what filters were being applied to his weekly media summaries.

How on earth to respond though? Should he correct her? Agree? Laugh? They should have a Line for things like this. He should definitely say SOMETHING but all words escaped him and the best he could do was force a generic interested noise around the lump in his throat. The dog brushed against the back of his legs and pushed a damp nose into his limp hand.

“Now love, not everybody is as committed to the conspiracy websites as you are.”

“They aren’t conspiracy sites!”

Estera coughed and interrupted to apologise but said they had an urgent appointment. When had her hand tucked around his arm? He wasn’t sure but was grateful it was there - at least now despite the sudden light headedness he might not float away. He echoed her hurried goodbyes and they returned, side by side this time, to the busy main street.

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[king-super-saiyan]

💼 💵

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 15

⚠️ Trigger Warning for angst/whump

❤️💚💜🩷 🚒🧑‍🚒

There was something unnerving about seeing the strongest person she knew, crumpled unconscious on the floor.

Tam found him cocooned around his Grandmother - sleeping soundly like a child who had sought out the comfort of a parent during a storm.

It all seemed so peaceful, but for the obvious devastation peppered over, and around them. And, of course, the glaring fact that Virgil was, indeed, unconscious, and not asleep.

Her heart panged hard, as she finally remembered to breathe, her chest shuddering with the deep inhalation.

The family didn't deserve this - well, most people didn't; but, it went double for the Tracys. It wasn't so much that they put their lives on the line on a daily basis; that debt of gratitude went without saying. It was perhaps the fact that she'd had the privilege of spending time with the family during her training; breaking bread with them in the evenings, sharing new stories she hadn't heard at the firehouse a gazillion-plus times. Somewhere during their training, Phoenix had shed their associate titles and had emerged as friends; which made this rescue so much harder than her average John or Jane Doe.

"Mrs. Tracy?"

"Told yer a thousand times kid; Sally suits me just fine. Mrs.Tracy is reserved for our shareholders, and Brains - who I've given up trying to change.

"Sally," she corrected herself, feeling a sudden warmth fill her face.

"How are you holding up?" Tam scrambled to unpack her medkit.

"I'll be a lot better once this brave idiot is off me. Can't breathe."

Tam paused a moment, and frowned. Virgil's weight was only partially resting on Sally; his body angled in such a manner as not to crush her. She wondered briefly if that had been at all planned on Virgil's part.

"Level with me kid, what are you thinking?"

Tam had a lot of time for Sally; she was brave, kind-hearted and wonderfully feisty - especially given her age, which she guessed was a taboo topic, here on Tracy Island. The woman was also far too sharp-witted to have the wool pulled over her eyes.

She sighed, continuing to work, as she analyzed the scene before her.

"I think the initial impact of your fall may be the real reason behind the pain you have breathing. Virgil's been careful to lie in a way that would not crush you."

"Sure sounds like him. So?"

"So...we need to check for injuries."

There was a confidence in her voice that she did not feel - or rather, she was confident about things; procedures, protocol, her job. But, inwardly, having not one, but numerous people she cared about (more than she perhaps should, given the amount of time she'd actually spent in their company) she'd admit it; this rescue had her shook. Tam buried the feeling deep, and ran the scan.

"How're they doing?"

Tam looked up from the scan to see the youngest Tracy approaching.

"Alan?" Sally's voice rasped out.

"Sally, you have three broken ribs; but as far as I can see, they've not caused any significant injuries to the surrounding area,"

She passed the med-scanner to Alan, who concurred.

"Well, Grandma; I'd say that's earned you a VIP stay in Tracy Island's very own infirmary. Don't worry, I've heard the doctors there are very good-looking!"

"I wasn't aware that Kip was a doctor too!"

"What? Eww! No!"

Grandma's chuckle was instantly switched for a grimace of pain.

Alan gently rescued a hand on her shoulder.

"Hel-p Vir-gil," she breathed.

"Tam's doing just that, Grandma. Penny and myself will look after you. It'll give Tam the space she needs to properly help Virg."

A hover stretcher, followed by a well-spoken lady appeared. And, before-long, Sally, Alan, and the woman - Penny vanished. Tam couldn't exactly say when. Her attention now firmly on the one member of International Rescue who had yet to regain consciousness.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

heart's been aching

back at it again at the krispy kreme *doesn't even attempt to backflip bc i Would fail horribly*

AO3!

Summary: Patton's dealing with cramps. Luckily, he has Virgil there for him. Warnings: None Wordcount: 355

“Virgillllll,” Patton whines into the phone, flopping dramatically across the couch. His body twinges with pain and he curls back up into a ball. “Virgil, the transphobes have got me.”

“Man,” Virgil comments, sounding distracted. “Rest in peace, Pat.”

Patton makes several exaggerated dying noises. Virgil hums, unaffected by Patton’s plight.

“I just checked out, give me ten minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Okay, drive safe.”

“Will do, hanging up now.”

Patton hums an agreement as the call ends, then puts on the ten minute version of All Too Well. It ends and he’s still deciding what song to put on next when the door rustles.

“Where is my favorite boy?” Virgil calls as he steps inside.

“Wasting away on the couch,” Patton calls back, putting a hand to his forehead so that he’s at his most sorrowful and pathetic when Virgil comes into the room. He stifles the small smile that comes with the gender validation of “favorite boy” — he’s being his most sorrowful and pathetic right now. Nevermind that he rolls over to smile at Virgil once he hears his footsteps approach the couch. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Virgil flashes him a smile, kneeling in front of the couch and rustling through his bags. He pulls out a king-sized Hershey’s bar. “Got you this at check out.”

Patton sits up and makes grabby hands. “Virge, have I told you I love you so much?”

“Not since I left for the store,” Virgil chuckles, handing him the chocolate and moving into the kitchen to put the rest of the groceries away.

“Well, now, that just won’t do. You are my favorite person in the world and I love you dearly.” Patton tears into the chocolate and takes a happy bite.

“You too, Popstar!” Virgil calls, a smile in his voice.

Patton will get up in a minute and help put away groceries. Virgil will accept the help, then gently bully him into taking medicine and help him get comfortable on the couch, and they’ll spend the rest of the afternoon rewatching cartoons together. But for now he enjoys his chocolate and the feeling of being loved.

[tsspromptmonth]

hello!

id like a Loganberry & Cranberry (analogical, QPR-style if ya got it!) Brewed Coffee/Machiatto mix (ratio is dealer’s choice!). Milk’s anything but skim or olive, and… Toppings, toppings… Oooh, Chocolate Shavings sound good, maybe a smidge of Caramel Drizzle? I’m tempted to try Rainbow Sprinkles and Burnt Sugar, but I’m not sure if that’d mix well with the rest - y’all are the experts, so feel free to be creative!

(I love when they help and/or stand up for each other - they know each other So Well, and care So Much! (even if- no, rather, *because* they show it in untypical ways) aksndjcksks they make me wanna explode 💜💙 - smth like that’d be really cool if it’s in stock!)

Switched: archiveofourown.org/works/35867506

growing up, and other lies told to children: archiveofourown.org/works/50233405

those three words: archiveofourown.org/works/60918157

(If it counts, I also sent the author of Cognitive Distortions (archiveofourown.org/works/60818113) a Tumblr ask, ‘cause the fic’s set to only allow users to comment)

the wrong office: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51803350

didn’t they want your blood: archiveofourown.org/works/26676358

nails in the coffin (READ THIS ONE, PLSPLSPLS, ITS THE BEST): https://archiveofourown.org/works/47020870

thank you so much!

Order up!

Go Back. Move On. Repeat. by @edupunkn00b

[king-super-saiyan]

🧳💵💸💳

[indeedgoodman]