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delimeful · 1 year ago

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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

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tagsecretsanta · 16 days ago

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From @gordonthegreatesttracy

From @gordonthegreatesttracy to @vitanirigatoni

Chapter one: Christmas on the Range

“Oh give me a home, where the rescuers roam

Where the squid and the rocket boy play

Where seldom is heard, roars from the Thunderbirds

And Scotty’s not grumpy all day!

Christmas on the range

Where the squid and the rocket boy play

Where seldom is heard, roars from the Thunderbirds

And Scotty’s not grumpy all day!

How often at night when the heavens are bright

With the lights from the glittering stars

Has John stood there amazed and asked as he gazed

Does their wonder exceed Virgil’s art!

Christmas on the ra…”

“Gordon, shut up!” Scott demands. He is sure that his fish brother spends all year just thinking up new ways to annoy him, and this is one of his favourite methods. A new and irritating song on Christmas Eve, and surely seven in the morning is too early for Gordon to start being annoying!

This is the second Christmas after they got their dad back, and after last years disaster, where Gordon set fire to the tree and presents before running away and getting himself shot, they made a family decision to do things differently this year, and spend Christmas at the ranch.

“No Scotty, the song says you aren’t allowed to be grumpy!” Gordon tells him. “Gordy jr loves Daddy’s singing, don’t you” he says, turning to the seven-month-old baby resting in Lady Penelope’s arms. Gordon still can’t believe that this baby is his, and his love for both Lady Penelope and the baby grow bigger every day.

Everyone is sitting around the table having breakfast, grandma’s specialty of burnt toast and raw bacon is being ignored for a large bowl of fresh fruit, and an even larger pot of coffee, which they are taking turns wrestling from Virgil.

The early morning sunlight is streaming through the floor to ceiling windows, bathing the room in the pink glow of the sunrise, promising another perfect day in paradise.

The centre of the table is piled high with presents of all shapes and sizes, and Lady Penelope is subtlety eyeing them up, she is an adult, a mother, a secret agent for the world’s biggest rescue organisation but she still gets excited for her birthday! But her attention is dragged away from the gifts by raised voices.

“Dad, why not?” Virgil ask his father from the other end of the table, where they are having an intense discussion, which anyone else would call an argument.

“Because I am your father, and I said so!” Jeff replies, raising one eyebrow and glaring at his second eldest son, that gaze that would usually have all five of his children backing down in an instant, but Virgil has not had enough coffee to heed the warning.

“But dad, it isn’t fair! Virgil says insistently. “Before you came back Scott let me do it all the time”

Jeff trying not to laugh and still keep a stern expression on his face, leans his elbows on the table, and rests his chin on his hands. “Really, should we ask him?”

Virgil glares back at his father, defiantly, and rolls his eyes. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Hey Scott, stop yelling at Gordon for a minute, and answer this question. Before you rescued me from the Oort Cloud, did you or did you not let Virgil drink coffee straight from the pot?” he says calling down the table.

The whole room goes quiet, while they anticipate Scott’s answer.

“No I did not! That’s disgusting” Scott replies.

“Want to try again Virgil?” Jeff says with a grin.

Virgil knows when he is defeated and doesn’t answer, instead choosing to finish the coffee in his mug before filling it back up and starting on coffee number five for the morning. Just three more and he is ready to face the day.

“Are you going to eat anything Virg?” John asks, having watched his brother inhale caffeine for the last ten minutes.

“I am eating. I am eating a salad” Virgil replies, pouring another coffee.

“I thought you were drinking coffee?” John asks, lines of confusion cross his forehead as he frowns.

“Gordon!” Virgil calls.

“I got ya back, Virg” Gordon replies. “Coffee is made from beans, beans are a salad, therefore coffee is salad. Virgil is consuming a perfectly healthy breakfast!”

Jeff gives up. “Just don’t drink it from the pot” before giving his full and undivided attention to the unfinished coffee bean salad in his own mug.

Grandma uses the momentary silence to ask her own question. “What are everyone’s plans for today?”

“Horse riding, hoverbike racing, skinny-dipping in the lake while dad babysits” Gordon replies.

“Solid no on the skinny-dipping Fish, no one wants to see that!” John tells him

“Definitely no skinny-dipping Gordon, if I catch you, I will join you!” Grandma threatens, which just about stops everyone’s appetite!

Penelope can’t stand the wait any further. “Can I open my presents first?”

“No, you have to wait until tomorrow” Gordon replies rolling his eyes. His Penelope is the most impatient woman he has ever met, but surely she can wait another twenty-four hours. He has too!

There is a collective gasp among his brothers. Surely he can’t be serious? He can’t have forgotten that today is Penelope’s birthday, he just can’t.

Penelope stares at him in surprise for a few seconds before the words sink into her brain. He doesn’t even know that it is her birthday, how could he do this to her?

She get up from the table with Gordy Jr and storms from the room before he gets the chance to see the tears silently streaming down her face. He will not get the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“What was that about?” Gordon asks in confusion.

“If you don’t know, we are not going to tell you” Parker tells him in disgust as everyone gets up and leaves until he is alone at the table with nothing but his own confusing thoughts.

*TB*

Lady Penelope is furiously packing, throwing all her clothes into the suitcase without bothering to fold anything, what is the point in perfectly laundered clothing when her whole life just fell apart. She thought that he loved her, but how can he do this? How can he be so selfish and self-absorbed that he forgot her birthday? She is going to make him regret this, one way or another Gordon Tracy is going to regret this.

*TB*

Gordon doesn’t know what to do, he has no idea what went wrong as he sadly gets up from the table and starts to walk towards the rear of the house and the patio where the pool is housed.

The early morning sunshine is warm on the top of his head as he contemplates just diving in fully dressed, into the inviting clear water.

The roars from the engines of FAB one overhead pull him out of his thoughts and he is forced to watch the love of his life fly away with their son, as he allows his own tears to fall.

“How could you?” a voice from behind calls, before he is shoved hard in the back and he falls into the pool. Gasping for air, his arms flailing wildly as he tries to find out who pushed him and finds himself looking into the angry aquamarine eyes of his immediate elder brother.

“J-J-John?!” he stutters as he drags himself up onto the side of the pool. His clothes are soaked and his shoes are ruined as he pulls them from his feet and pours the water out.

“She loved you. You were her person, and she never demanded anything but that love back, and you couldn’t even do that. You are the most selfish, spoiled brat I have ever met and I am so sorry that you’re my brother.” John says his voice is low and menacing with the threat of pushing him back in.

Gordon knows he has messed everything up, and he still has no idea how.

“It’s her birthday you idiot. Those gifts on the table were for her, from all of us. Even Old Joe got her a gift, but you, the so-called love of her life, forgot. I would not blame her if she never spoke to you again”

John turns on his heel and walks away leaving Gordon alone once more.

Gordon knows he should go after her, he knows that he has messed everything up. Penelope is the most stubborn person he has ever met, and usually he loves that about her, as she never gives up on anything, but he knows now that quality will make it impossible to apologise, once her mind is made up there is no changing it.

Sadly he takes the small gift box from his pocket, and opens it up, gazing sadly at the large diamond set in platinum and embraced in a golden ring that he was going to give her this evening after the fun day he had planned for her birthday, but this is one prank that has backfired on him in the worst way as he snaps the box shut and starts to run.

He runs down past the pool and out into the desert, the hot sandy ground is burning the soles of his bare feet as he gets into a rhythm and finds his heart steadying as he focuses on his breathing, and not where he is going.

He runs until he can run no more, and he sinks to the ground, his head buried in his arms and he lets out a painful howl that comes from deep in his soul. He stays in his spot all day, not moving until the sun starts to sink below the horizon to be replaced by a billion stars and a chilly night. He gets to his feet, and starts to walk slowly back to the ranch, where he knows that the chilly air outside will be nothing like the frosty atmosphere that will be waiting for him and he slows his walk even further as the sadness envelopes him once more.

*TB*

The house is ablaze with lights, the security lights on the outside are fully lit as Gordon pushes open the main door and slips inside. His feet are so painful from where the stones have cut and burned the skin, and he wants nothing more than to soak in a hot bath with the scented candles he picked out with Penelope.

Thoughts of Penelope invade his brain, and he realises that it isn’t true, he wants nothing more than to soak in a hot bath with the scented candles and Penelope. That pang of pain flashes through his chest again, and he can feel the hot salty tears threatening to spill over once more as he tries to make it to the stairs unseen.

“There you are. You came back then” John says, spotting him easily, as stealthy is not a word anyone associates with Gordon Tracy.

“Obviously” Virgil answers him rolling his eyes. “Are you okay Gordon?”

Gordon doesn’t reply, he wants to run away again, he can’t face his brothers, knowing that once again he has completely ruined their Christmas.

“Who cares” Alan says. “He ruins everything. We had so much planned for today and he’s destroyed it all. Again.”

“Alan. Stop” Virgil says demanding.

“You always take his side” John says rolling his eyes in disgust.

“Someone has too” Virgil says, his voice starting to rise.

Gordon wishes he could come clean, and admit that it is true that he has once again ruined their Christmas with a poorly thought-out prank, but he can’t. There is no way he can ever tell the truth it has gone too far already.

“Boys. Stop it, all of you, it is Christmas eve and I don’t want any more fighting” Grandma demands. she has had enough of their arguing, they have been doing it all day, and her patience has finally run out.

“We aren’t arguing, we are just…” Scott trails off.

“Arguing” Grandma confirms. “I want all of you upstairs into those matching pyjamas I ordered for you all, and back down here in the next five minutes where we will sit and watch a family Christmas movie and we will have a good time” she doesn’t have to add or else to that, they are aware that it is implied!

*TB*

Five minutes later there are five Tracys in the living room, gathered around the television, all wearing red pyjamas adorned with reindeers and slow flakes, Jeff has lit a fire and the room is warm as cosy and at odds with the frostiness emanating from the rooms inhabitants.

Jeff comes into the room carrying a tray with mugs of steaming peppermint hot chocolate with squirty cream and marshmallows, drizzled with chocolate sauce and rainbow-coloured sprinkles and a plate of Grandma’s freshly baked cookies. He places it carefully on the table, takes a mug, ignores the cookies and sits on the sofa next to Scott.

“Have you chosen a movie yet?” he asks, determined to keep the atmosphere light. He is not surprised that he gets different answers or that none of them met the requirement of Christmas move, he is however surprised that he only gets four answers.

“Top gun” said Scott

“Elvis” said Virgil

“The fast and the furious 37” said Alan

“Superman” said John

He looks at Gordon, who is sitting on the floor staring into the flames of the fire with a blank look on his face, and Jeff knows that he didn’t even know he was in the room, never mind that he asked him a question. “Gordon?”

“Huh?” Gordon replies, looking around with a startled jump.

“What movie should we watch?” Jeff asks.

“He doesn’t get a vote, as he doesn’t matter” Alan says. “He is only still here because he has nowhere to go now Penelope doesn’t want him, no one wants him”

“Alan, stop it” Jeff demands, finally losing his temper. “We are a family and it is about time you all remembered that and started to act like one”

Scott opens his mouth to protest when there is a loud bang on the roof and the lights and fire are suddenly extinguished and the house is plunged into darkness.

“Oh great, now what did you do, Gordon!” John says in disgust.

Chapter two: helping deliver gifts

Gordon doesn’t answer, he didn’t do anything, but he knew that he would get the blame. He grabs his phone from his pocket, to turn the torch on, forgetting that it got destroyed this morning by his unexpected swim in the pool and isn’t working, which is just another thing he has messed up. Gordon can’t do anything right.

The lights come back on, and there is a shuffling sound from the fire place before there is a thump on the burnt-out logs and someone dressed from head to toe in red climbs out, brushes soot from their long white hair and straightens up.

“Sorry about that” they say sitting down on the sofa and grabbing one of Grandma’s cookies, and taking a large bite out of it, before spitting it out in disgust. Her cry of “What was that?” is drowned out by Alan’s shout.

“MRS CLAUS!” Alan cries in surprise.

They haven’t seen her since that fateful Christmas two years ago when Alan and Gordon crashed into Santa’s sleigh!

“Boys, I need your help” She tells them, turning the cookie over and over again in her hands, not daring to look at them, as she knows that this is a big thing that she has to ask. And she is risking ruining the family Christmas that was the only thing on Jeff’s Christmas list, and he was at the top of the nice list this year.

“What’s happened? I will do anything as long as I don’t have to dress up as an elf again” John says.

Mrs Claus decides that she doesn’t have the time for any small talk, and just gets straight to the point.

“Santa Claus has been kidnapped by the Hood and Chaos Crew. I have billions of presents at the north pole, and no one to deliver them. International Rescue, I have a situation” she tells the shocked room who after a moment of stunned silence descends into chaos as everyone starts talking at once.

“Missing? What do you mean, missing?” Jeff asks.

“The Chaos Crew? Asks Virgil

“The Hood?” Asks Scott.

“I thought they were in prison?” Asks Alan.

“Do I have to wear that awful outfit again?” asks John.

“Can I ride a reindeer?” Asks Gordon

“He has been kidnapped, the Chaos Crew and the Hood have escaped, yes you do Speedy Twinkle Toes, and no you can’t!” Mrs Claus replies. “Now if there are no more questions, we have Christmas to save, the sleigh is on the roof, come on, up the chimney”

“How are we going to get up there?” Alan asks.

“You need to get your outfits on, then you will have all of the magic of the north pole at your fingertips.”

“Awesome, I can’t wait!” Alan replies, bouncing up and down in delight. He loved being part of Santa’s workshop. “Gimme, gimme, gimme!” he hold his hands out for the bag of clothes that Mrs Claus bought with her, and starts to pull on the red and white stripped tights and green top and hat. He can feel his ears and nose changing shape as he is magically transformed into Gingerbread Happy Feet.

“Look at me dad, I am beautiful!” Alan says excitedly.

“You’re something” Jeff replies. “Where is my outfit?”

“You are going to find Kayo, and help her hunt down Santa for me, according to the nice list she is staying in England with Captain Rigby” Mrs Claus replies. “You can take Thunderbird one”

“I can?” Jeff replies, in disbelief, Scott would never agree to this!

“He can?” Scott asks. There is no way he is losing his Thunderbird.

“He can, Scotty Claus!” Mrs Claus replies. “Now, get your coat on and let’s get going, we are losing time here and we need to deliver ten billion gifts before tomorrow morning”

Up on the roof, Santa’s sleigh and reindeer are waiting for them, ready to take them up to the North Pole.

“How are we going to fit?” John asks, looking into the sleigh where there is only enough room for one.

“That’s easy, we ride the reindeer!” Gordon replies, leaping up onto the back of Blitzen. “Come one everyone, pick a reindeer!”

“Snowflake Sugar Plum, GET DOWN!” Mrs Claus yells.

“You are no fun!” Gordon replies in disgust, sliding to the floor and climbing into the back of the sleigh, squishing himself in between Virgil and Alan.

“Stop sitting on me” Alan tells him, shoving him into Virgil’s lap.

“I don’t want him, go and sit with John.” Virgil replies, trying to wriggle free from under his brothers weight.

“You think I want him?” John asks. “I would rather eat my own liver than sit next to Squid breath”

“That can be arranged Space Case” Scott tells him from up front, where he is about to take the reins and fly into the night sky. Scott is getting announced with the constant bickering that has taken place since Lady Penelope walked out on them that morning, and unless they start working together this Christmas is going to be a disaster that not even international rescue can save the world from.

“Keep out of this Scotty Claus, this isn’t your battle” Virgil says, as he still struggles to get comfortable in a seat designed for one small elf and not two large humans!

Scott doesn’t see any point in replying, and instead concentrates on lifting off, the sooner he gets this sorted, the sooner he can go back to the ranch, and try so save the perfect family Christmas he so desperately needs. He had so many plans to make this day amazing, instead he is in charge of his wayward arguing siblings, delivering gifts, dressed as Santa and being forced to answer to Scotty Claus. Just as long as Gordon doesn’t start singing that awful song again.

“What awful song Scotty Claus?” Gordon asks.

“Huh, are you reading my thoughts?” Scott replies, confused.

“No, you idiot, you’re thinking aloud!” Gordon informs him. “I have Scotty Claus is coming to town, Johnny the red-haired Tracy or Christmas on the Range”

“None of them!” Scott replies, grateful that he has both hands on the reins and that Gordon doesn’t get the satisfaction of a face palm. Gordon isn’t worth it.

“You are no fun big brother” Gordon insists.

No, he’s serious, something you know absolutely nothing about. It is about time you grew up Gordon.” John is the one who answers him.

The atmosphere within the sleigh is as icy as the air outside as they race towards the North Pole and Santa’s workshop.

Scott lands on the snow-covered lawn, near the thirty foot heavily decorated tree, and the five brothers disembark the sleigh and trudge towards the front door. Which to Gordon’s disappointment now reads Santa’s workshop once more and not Satan’s workshop as that was one of his better prank ideas!

There is a flurry is frenzied activity in the workshop as they enter. Elves are running everywhere, panicking. There’s wrapping paper and ribbons and glitter and bows all over the floor, the naughty/nice list is pinned to the wall and there are three elves fighting over it, trying to figure out where in the list they got too before Santa disappeared.

Scott jumps up on the table and whistles through his fingers to get everyone’s attention. “QUIET!” he roars, in a voice so loud, Alan runs for cover.

“JOHN, TAKE OVER THE NAUGHTY/NICE LIST, ALAN YOU’RE IN CHARGE OF WRAPPING THE REMAINING GIFTS, GORDON YOU CAN SORT THEM INTO NICE EVEN PILES, VIRGIL GET THEM LOADED ONTO THE SLEIGH AND I WILL START DELIVERING.”

“Scotty Claus is back in the game!” Gordon says to John with a grin.

John just walks away without replying, just because he is stuck doing this with Gordon, doesn’t mean he has to start being nice to him, and he certainly isn’t about to forgive him. Gordon destroyed Christmas again, and this was the final time he is allowing this to happen, next year he is going to just spend it on thunderbird five, alone, just how he likes it.

The naughty list seems to be even longer than the one from two years ago, and he puts it towards the back to start on the nice list, as he feels once he has gotten to his name then he will feel a lot better about this, after all he is sacrificing his Christmas for this, so he clearly belongs on the nice list.

But page after page he sorts through, and he finds Alan, Virgil and Scott, but there is no sign of his name, and he is starting to get frustrated as he passes the names to Alan so that he can wrap the gifts.

Alan loves wrapping presents, and after all the criticism he received from the last time he did this, he has spent two years practicing and each gift is neatly packaged with a bright red ribbon and a glittery bow before he adds them to the next part of the process, where Gordon is sorting the boxes into neat piles, twelve feet high near the door so that Virgil can load them into the waiting sleigh.

The atmosphere is tense, and no one is talking as they focus on their tasks, determined to save Christmas this year.

Gordon is at the top of the fifteen-foot ladder when John finally spots his own name.

At the top of the naughty list.

“WHAT?!” he cries out in horror, causing Alan to jump in surprise as he jumps backwards into a large pile of gifts, which crash into the ladder and knock Gordon flying head first into the wall before he slides down to the ground and is buried in the rubble from a million shattered dreams from children who are now unlikely to ever get their gifts.

“GORDON?!” Virgil shouts in shock as he races over to his brother, to try and rescue him from the mess. “HELP ME!”

John is frozen in his spot near the list. What has he done?

Chapter three: A Christmas Miracle

Scott, Virgil, Alan and John start to move the broken packages out of the way, determined to get to Gordon, he is going to be fine, this is just part of the classic Gordon Tracy Christmas, he plays a prank, he ruins Christmas, then he does something silly and they all forgive him.

It is their thing!

Virgil feels a small amount of relief when he realises that Gordon is still breathing, but he’s unconscious.

Scott does the medscan which confirms concussion, a broken leg and three rib fractures, as they move him from the floor into the well-stocked med bay of Santa’s infirmary.

John sits down next to the bed, and starts to cry.

This is why he was on the naughty list. Accusing Gordon of being selfish, and ruining Christmas and all he has done is the exact same thing. If he hadn’t cried out, Alan would have never been startled, Gordon would have not fallen from the ladder and they would still be on track to save Christmas.

Gordon hasn’t ruined Christmas at all, he has.

“You okay?” Scott asks, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I am fine, Scott.” John replies, not bothering to lift his head up, he can’t look Scott in the eye and admit the truth. His little brother is in a coma because of him.

“We have to get back to work. He is fine here, Mrs Claus will look after him for us, but there’s a billion children depending on us John.” Scott’s voice is soft, and not his usual demanding self, as he helps John to his feet, and they leave the workshop’s infirmary and the slow steady beeping from the machines, the only sound in the room, keeping their Squid with them, and back out to the chaos of the main work shop.

Alan and Virgil are here, gathering the intact presents and rewrapping them, leaving the broken ones in a large pile in the corner of the room to be replaced with the other elves working feverishly to repair thousands of toys There is even a model thunderbird four!

“It is Christmas day in Australia, its time to go” Scott says almost an hour later, as he has been piling the toys into the sleigh ready for delivery.

“Can I go with you?” Alan asks, “Top of my Christmas list was to spend time with my brothers.”

John snorts with laughter. He read the nice list, Alan’s was a new games console, his siblings weren’t even mentioned!

“Why don’t we all go?” Virgil asks.

“What about Gordon?” Alan asks.

“He will be safe here, if we all go we can get back to him faster.” Virgil replies.

Scott nods. “Okay, but I get to fly the sleigh!”

This time there is no fighting over seats, as they all squash into the driver’s seat with Scott, as the gifts are taking up all of the room. John is on Scott’s left, Virgil on the right and Alan is on the floor near John’s feet.

“How is it still only Christmas Eve, it feels like this day has lasted about four months” Alan asks, as they fly towards their first destination.

“That’s the magic of Christmas Eve, Alan” Scott replies, remembering from his last trip delivering gifts.

“Yeah, but how does it work?” Alan asks.

“I can’t reveal all of Santa’s secrets Al!” Scott replies with a grin.

“Spoilsport!” Alan replies, sticking his tongue out at him.

“Maybe one day!” Scott promises, before slowing the sleigh down for their first delivery, landing the sleigh on top of the roof of a two storey brick building with a steep roof, which flattens down on their landing while Alan looks on in amazement.

“How did you do that?” he asks.

“Not telling you! Where are the presents for this one, I will pop down the chimney and deliver them” Scott replies.

“No way, I am going!” Alan says, grabbing the top three presents from the and jumping up on top of the chimney.

“ALAN NO! COME BACK!” Scott calls, as his youngest brother tries to fit in the chimney, only to get stuck in the chimney cap, up to his arms.

“HELP!” he calls, in embarrassment.

“I warned you!” Scott says trying and failing to hold back his laughter.

Scott and Virgil grab him under the armpits and heave him free from the chimney, and he goes back to the sleigh in humiliation.

“How does Scott do it? it isn’t fair!” Alan moans to John while they watch Scott shrink into mini Scotty Claus who fits perfectly in the chimney with the freshly shrunken gifts.

John doesn’t know, and despite his own misery he can’t help but feel intrigued by the mystery. “I don’t know, how does Scott do it?”

“Maybe he went to Hogwarts” Virgil replies.

“That is Scotty Claus’ big secret” Scott tells them as he climbs back aboard the sleigh and once more takes up the reins.

“Did you at least bring us the cookies and coffee?” Virgil asks.

“Sorry, maybe next time!” Scott replies.

“But Scotty I want coffee!” Virgil whines.

“You always want coffee!” John reminds him. “You are an addict”

“I am not, the coffee is addicted to me” Virgil replies.

“Did you really go to Hogwarts Scott? I thought you went to Yale!” Alan asks.

“Lumos” Scott replies, and to everyone’s surprise the lights on the sleigh are suddenly illuminated.

“No way!” Alan is impressed. “You’re a wizard?”

“Maybe!” Scott replies, as he ducks down chimneys, delivering gifts and taking plates of cookies, cups of coffee and bags of carrots and apples for the reindeer, as they are working just as hard as he is, and deserve treats too.

They traverse the globe for hours, but it is still Christmas Eve when they land on the lawn of the Creighton-Ward manor.

The house is dark, and there is no one home as Scott quietly lets himself in and leaves presents under the tree for Lady Penelope, Gordy, Sherbet and Parker before sadly leaving the house. He had hoped that she would be here.

“They aren’t home” he tells his brothers in disappointment, as he once again takes the reins and soaks up the change in atmosphere, as they were all secretly hoping to speak to Lady Penelope, to explain everything.

“Is it still Christmas Eve?” Alan asks, as they fly over the Atlantic towards America.

“It is” Scott informs him.

“How? We have been out here for hours” Alan asks, not knowing is the most frustrating experience of his life!

“Can you just believe in the magic?” Scott asks, he’s trying not to laugh, but it is getting harder as Alan gets more and more annoyed with him.

“Nope!” Alan replies.

As the piles of gifts get smaller, there is more room to spread out, but they don’t. instead they choose togetherness, even if it doesn’t feel right without Gordon. There is a squid shaped hole in all of their hearts, and now the sleigh is empty, Christmas has been saved, it is time to get back to the north pole and start to fix their own Christmas.

“Can I ride the reindeer on the way back?” Alan asks.

“What do you think?” Scott replies.

“Yes” Alan says confidently.

“Try again” Scott says.

“Maybe?” Alan tries.

“You get one more try to get the right answer” Scott says.

“Fine, I will just fly the sleigh instead, you can’t keep hogging all the fun jobs!” Alan tells him.

“Yeah I can, I am the big brother!” Scott says laughing, as he pulls the reindeer to the north and they start the final part of their journey.

It is snowing heavily when they arrive, and they take the reindeer straight into the stables so that they can rest.

“Your turn to play with the reindeer Al, they need their stalls cleaning out” Scott tells him and he turns with John and Virgil and they run back out into the snow laughing leaving Alan with a pitchfork and wheel barrow.

There are ten in total, and Alan turns his attention to the first one, but to his relief it has recently been cleaned, as have the others.

“SCOTT!” he yells as he stomps out of the stables and through the snowy grounds to the main workshop.

“Yes” Scott replies, laughing.

“You aren’t funny” Alan tells him.

“Yeah, but I am adorable!” Scott replies.

“Hi Alan” A voice calls from the other side of the room, and his attention is torn from Scott to a new arrival.

“DAD!” he calls in delight, running across the room and into his father’s arms. “Scott is so mean Dad. He wouldn’t let me do anything fun”

“You mean he kept you safe?” Jeff replies.

“No fun!” Alan insists.

“Did you find Santa?” Alan asks, remembering why they are here.

“Why don’t we check on Gordon first, then I will tell you all about it” Jeff replies.

Gordon is still unconscious, his broken leg has been set and is resting on top of the blanket, encased in a bright yellow cast.

“Is he going to be okay?” Alan asks. Shrinking back against the door. He hates seeing Gordon so still and quiet, two abilities everyone was certain that their fish didn’t possess.

“I don’t know. He has suffered a severe head trauma. We don’t know if he will ever wake up.” Jeff replies, sadly, his arms wrapped around Alan, who like John is feeling a significant amount of guilt over Gordon getting hurt.

“I thought if we went on the mission that everything would be okay. This was meant to finally be the perfect Christmas, and it’s been a disaster” Alan says, all the tears that he has been holding back start to spill out over his cheeks as he cries on his father’s shoulder.

Jeff leads Alan into a small office just off the infirmary and hands him a box of tissues.

“Tracy family tradition, worst ever Christmas. Every time you say next year can’t be worse it gets worse. Maybe the key is to not have any expectations” Jeff says. “How about next year we just plan the worst Christmas ever, and then maybe the universe will come through.”

“Do you think that will work?” Alan asks.

“Remember the year Gordon fell off the roof?” Jeff asks.

“Yeah, that’s the year Virgil reckons was his favourite ever Christmas!”

“Then there was the year he got your mum a pet squirrel!” Jeff says laughing.

“Niblet! I loved Niblet!”

“And you won’t remember this as you were just a baby, but there was the year he flooded the laundry room, steel wooled my desk, shredded all my important files, broke the hoover and set the kitchen on fire” Jeff says.

“All in one year?” Alan asks.

“All in the space of four hours!” Jeff replies. “It is why we love him, life with Gordon is never boring!”

“Can I go and sit with him?” Alan asks, suddenly realising that he is brave enough to be there for him.

“Of course, I am going to make hot chocolate I will bring you in some” Jeff replies.

Alan leaves the office and goes back to the infirmary, but Gordon is no longer alone.

Sitting next to him, is Lady Penelope. Her eyes are read from crying and exhaustion, as she holds his hand in hers, using her spare hand to gently stroke the hair from his face as she sings softly.

“Oh give me a home, where the rescuers roam

Where the squid and the rocket boy play

Where seldom is heard, roars from the Thunderbirds

And Scotty’s not grumpy all day!”

Gordon’s fingers start to twitch, to grip her hand, to let her know that he is there with her, that he is never going to leave her side ever again.

“Christmas on the range

Where the squid and the rocket boy play

Where seldom is heard, roars from the Thunderbirds

And Scotty’s not grumpy all day!”

Alan starts to sing too, as he enters the room fully, followed by his father, Scott, Virgil and John and they sing together. Finally united, as they should have been all of this time.

“How often at night when the heavens are bright

With the lights from the glittering stars

Has John stood there amazed and asked as he gazed

Does their wonder exceed Virgil’s art!”

“Do you take requests?” Gordon croaks.

“GORDON!” they all cry in unison as they race towards the bed.

“OW!” he moans. “My head hurts. What happened?” he asks.

“You got crushed by Christmas presents!” Alan says. “Sorry about that!”

“Penny, I didn’t forget your birthday, I just need to learn when pranks aren’t appropriate, but I got you a really awesome gift” Gordon says.

“I know you didn’t” Penelope replies. “And the answer is yes.”

“Yes?” Gordon replies in shock.

“Yes, I would be honoured to marry you. I love you so much Gordon, I don’t want to live another day on this earth without you”

“How did you find out about all of this?” Scott asks.

“I felt it. Here” Lady Penelope replies, holding her hand over her heart. “He needed me”

“Did you ever find Santa?” Gordon asks.

“We will talk about that later; you need to rest” Jeff replies cryptically.

“Dad, was he ever missing or was this to get us to stop arguing? I have played enough pranks in my time to know when I am being set up!” Gordon replies, the truth suddenly dawning on him.

“If I say yes, but you were never meant to get hurt and all five of you were supposed to be delivering gifts and learning to work together, it worked didn’t it!” Jeff said.

“I’m in too much pain for a revenge prank” Gordon announces.

“No revenge prank?” Jeff replies, in shock.

“It really is a Christmas miracle dad!” Alan replies laughing.

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #thunderbirds #tag team secret santa 2024

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haydenthewitch · 4 months ago

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if i was doing a greek myths au of sanders sides, i think i would do intulogical as hades and persephone and here's why:

1. Logan as hades makes sense, Not only becuse of the thing they both do, the "i don't do feelings thing" but also becuse of the god of wealth thing. Logan's the one doing taxes in sanders sides. Also, Hades is not known for being like a "grim reeper" figure, he doesn't delight in death nor is he the god of death (the act of dying). He is the god of the dead (ruling over already dead pepole) and he seems to rule as fair as any of the gods did (maybe even more fair.)

2. Remus as persphone is so good acrualy. Did you know that before pepole refered to Persephone as Persephone they refered to her as kore. The intresting thing about Kore is that it doesn't translate to 'flower' or some spring goddess name like that. Kore translates as "maiden" or "girl." Some theroize that this is becuse saying the name of a god was bringing their attention to you; oftentimes pepole would not refer to hades AS HADES belivng it to be bad luck. THEREFORE some think that the greeks gave her the name 'KORE' becuse they were so scared of her: they wouldn't say her name. they basicly said "so in this tale a certain madien we don't say the name of does xyz." and this was BEFORE she hooked up with the god of the dead; she was then remaimed Persephone (witch btw translates to "to bring/cuase death".) NEED I SAY WHY REMUS WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD PERSEPHONE??? first, he'd totaly roll around in the dirt and mud, bring about the chayos of spring. and two EVRYONE IS FRICKING PISSING THEIR PANTS AROUND HIM ALL THE TIME. three: he would and does fuck shit up by sponatouisly growing vines everywhere. sometimes on purpose and sometimes not at all.

3. Logan (as hades) Seeing remus(as kore) Causing disaster and ruin with plants and insitantly falling in love and lementing how perfect and ordrly the underworld is becuse vines and plants can't grow there easily. Secretly wishing and hoping to see him again. Technicaly kidnapping remus on acceident but remus can smell fear on him and is SOOO INTENT on figuring out why (it's becuse logan is so deeply in love with his laugh and logan is kinda freaking out about it.) remus maybe intentionaly eating some of the pommagranite as a show of faith and logan proposes on the spot.

THEY ARE THE COUPLE OF ALL TIME (and this isn't even getting into why roman and virgil would make SUCH A GOOD orpheuis and erodice pair don't even get me started. i feel like i have to find a sanders pair for phsyce and eros becuse they are my favorite greek myth so)

#hayden yaps #HYA sanders sides #sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #greek myths au #greek mythology #disclaimer: i know nothing #ts sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety

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part-time-zombie · 2 days ago

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im not in the sanders sides fandom anymore and i havent been for a long time but im seein you reblog a bunch of sanders sides stuff.... opinion on intrulogical? lol

Its such a fun ship lol, i can always get behind the whole "opposites attract" style pairing when I find it compelling and these two are no exception.

Putting it simply, I love the mad scientist vibes they give together, and the beautiful disaster that comes when you combine Remus' chaos with Logan's order.

For a more angsty, in depth opinion:

I also think what it is about this ship that I like so much is despite how they regularly seem to be on the opposite side of almost every spectrum that applies to them, they still have one core trait in common that I like to think they can relate to, even if they don't necessarily realize it.

In a way, they've both been constantly and consistently ignored.

Logan is usually only called on to fix the problem or answer a question, otherwise he's left behind and considered boring or a buzz kill. The others (namely Roman) repeatedly point out how he bores or bothers them, and that his desire for reason or order detracts from their fun. His own desires are always secondary at best, despite how those desires only focus on Thomas' own well-being and rarely on things that Logan himself likes.

Remus has been rejected for decades of thomas' life, only finally being noticed when thomas' mental health has finally plummeted enough for him to no longer have the strength to keep him pushed down anymore.

Other dark sides have already been trash talked by one or two light sides, i.e. Roman saying he "can't stand" Virgil and "hates" Janus (both in their very first appearances), but Remus is the only one to my knowledge that Thomas himself has repeatedly and openly resented.

Comparing Remus' experiences with being deemed "unwanted" by Thomas with Logan's repeated neglect by both him and the sides, I feel like in spite of their many differences they'd at least see a reflection of their own loneliness in each other and perhaps understand if not admit to it.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #thanks for the ask!

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goldnskyart · 1 year ago

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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

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 11 months ago

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Last Updated: 2024-08-06

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Loki Odinson stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

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

Summary: A chronicle of your and Loki's secret, sexy liaison.

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

Summary: As the cousin to the one-and-only Tony Stark you're determined to keep your relationship with the God of Mischief private, much to your lover's dismay. Unfortunately, Thor has other plans…

✑ Use Me as You Please by lokisprettygirl • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

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

✑ Virgil by coldnique • 18+ • 〔F〕 •

Summary: {…}

✑ A Calm in the Storm by joyful-enchantress • 18+ • 〔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."

✑ 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.

✑ 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."

✑ Commitments by michelleleewise • 〔A〕 •

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

✑ 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 by lokisgoodgirl • 〔A᜶E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Date night turns sour when Loki breaks up with you. Finding solace in the arms (literally) of your closest hunky friends, it seems Loki may have been too quick to come to his decision after all…

✑ 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."

✑ 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. || [Sex Pollen]

✑ 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 by michelleleewise • 18+ • 〔F〕 •

Summary: It was your regular movie night with your favorite God, when things take an unexpected turn...

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

Excerpt: 'Open, open, open,' your baby girl jumped excitedly as you grabbed the handle that was too high for her to reach yet... this was her favorite time of day, when work was done... and she could spend time with her favorite person in the whole world: her father.

✑ 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 • 18+ • 〔F᜶E〕 •

Summary: Loki overhears you complaining about the inadequacies of your latest lover to Nat and Wanda one night, and decides it's time for him to show you how they do it in Asgard.

✑ 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 daddypascal17 • 18+ • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

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

✑ So Pretty by jpat82 • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "..."

✑ 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 by bellesque • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: Plant samples from Alfheim and a brooding god as your only companions in a small Quinjet sounds like a recipe for disaster, but some good things can happen in ten hours. || [Sex Pollen]

✑ 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..."

✑ Training by jpat82 • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: After coming to terms with your feelings for Loki, Steve decides to play match-maker.

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

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

✑ 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 He Doesn't Know by starks-hero • 〔M᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: You and Loki had been doing a fairly decent job at keeping your relationship a secret from the other members of the team, specifically your father. But what happens when word finally gets out?

✑ 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.

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

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

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

✑ Black Cat by dyns33 • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Breathless by asgardwinter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Cheerleader by lokisgoodgirl • 〔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 by gaitwae • 〔F〕 •

✑ Honestly Mischievous by asgardwinter • 〔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〕 •

✑ Little Mischiefs by daddypascal17 • 〔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〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ 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〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Take Care of You by michelleleewise • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

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

✑ Truth or Dare by michelleleewise • 〔F〕 •

✑ Worthy by peterman-spideyparker • 〔C〕 •

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

✑ Being in Love w/ Loki by thranduilsperkybutt • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

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

See Also: Navigation || Loki Odinson Master Index

Authors: @asgardwinter || @bellesque || @beyondspaceandstars || @christinebloodwrittings || @clandestineloki || @coldnique || @daddypascal17 || @dyns33 || @fluffyfantasticducky || @gaitwae || @give-me-a-moose || @goddessofmischief || @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 || @infinitystoner || @irishhappiness || @joyful-enchantress || @jpat82 || @lizmaximoff || @lokidokieokie || @lokisgoodgirl || @lokisprettygirl || @maple-seed || @michelleleewise || @mostly-marvel-musings || @oliwrites || @peacefulpianist || @peterman-spideyparker || @psychospore || @rorilisa || @springdandelixn || @starks-hero || @thranduilsperkybutt || @tricksterlokilaufeyson || @witchthewriter || @your-highnessmarvel ||

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edutainer2022 · 9 months ago

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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

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gumnut-logic · 1 year ago

Text

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-

#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

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analoceits · 7 months ago

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love bites CH. 1: new blood

A03 LINK

Virgil leaned against the headboard and sighed. The apartment was strangely silent, and not in a pleasant way. It seeped into his bones and rested there, choking his lungs. It was the type of quiet that made him cry as a kid, because he could hear his blood flowing and his heart beating and he could feel how fragile both were..

At least he couldn’t hear either now.

Whatever. That was irrelevant. He was thinking about the quiet, because that meant Logan was gone and it was stressing him out. Logan had warned him, of course - some kind of after school program his professor had offered him that meant he would be staying a little later. Even if he knew why though, it didn’t stop his thoughts from racing.

Virgil had protested when Logan brought it up. Lo, jesus christ, that late? Seriously? C’mon, that is a disaster waiting to happen- what if you get lost? Or, you could get stolen away by some creepy guy, or you could get fucking mugged, or- (Or Bitten.)

But Logan, as comforting as ever, reached a hand up and gently patted his shoulder, stating, the cities crime rate is particularly low. That’s why we both chose to live here, isn’t it? I will be completely alright. To give you extra assurance, I’ll inform you when I leave so you can ‘freak the fuck out’ as you said if I’m not home in thirty or so minutes, ok?

As promised, the text had arrived twenty-seven minutes ago. Logan should be home any minute now. Virgil sighed, laying back against the headboard. Logan’s words were absurdly comforting. It shouldn’t be allowed, really. It’s as if Logan had stolen the voice of an angel somehow, and used it just to speak to Virgil in the softest way.

For the approximately 100th time since the realization had hit Virgil a number of months ago, that thought ran through his head again. Despite every warning and caution against, Virgil had fallen hopelessly, and desperately in love with a mortal.

The thought sent a miserably defeated let delighted sigh through him, before it was cut off by the front door pulling open and promptly slamming shut so hard that it shook the apartment. Virgil shot straight up, fear striking through his ribs, head spinning to the vague direction of the noise, “Logan?” He yelled across the apartment.

There was no answer.

“Logan!” He repeated, the force in his voice stronger this time.

Logan did not answer. Logan always answered.

Virgil was running before he really knew it, his body moving with unnatural stiff perfection, any passing thought of seeming human escaping him as his feet slammed against the floor. He flung around the corner in less than a second and caught his eyes on a figure.

No, not a figure, it was Logan. It was Logan, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes and only then between his terror and relief did Virgil remember there were actually reasons why he had to seem human. A major one being to not terrify his very human roommate

After a brief, embarrassed glance down that resulted in him seeing black, smoking marks in the tile (they were not getting their deposit back now) he looked back up and spoke, still unsure if he was embarrassed or terrified. “Logan, are you ok? Did something happen? You could’ve called me, you know-” Logan raised his hand to cut Virgil off, and Virgil hesitantly obliged.

In what was becoming a pretty concerning pattern - Logan still did not speak.

They both stared at each other in an awkward, tense silence. It’s like they were playing a game of chicken where Virgil was trying to not open his mouth again, and Logan was trying to remember what words were. Virgil barely resisted the urge to reach for him as the silence drew on.

Finally, finally because Virgil might fucking die - die again - if he didn’t hear the nerds voice right then, Logan spoke. “I am alright.” He said, but the words shook as he spoke them, “.. I didn’t know you could run that fast, Virgil.”

Virgil resisted the urge to cringe so hard his fangs would dig into his bottom lip, and instead responded with a very hesitant, “I didn’t know you liked slamming doors all of a sudden, but here we are.” Despite his best efforts, the words held more concern than annoyance.

Logan did actually cringe at that, seemingly having less self control than Virgil which - jesus, when did that happen? - but he managed to force out an answer. “I apologize, it was just stress,” he said and Virgil could see it - he looked strikingly pale. As pale as Virgil had been all those years ago.

The thought sent a viscous nausea through him.

“So..,” Virgil started, picking over his words carefully, because Logan for the first time was the fragile one of the two of them and Virgil couldn’t stand himself if he broke Logan while he was like this, “you aren’t alright, are you?” He asked in his best soft voice, taking a hesitant step forward.

Despite his attempt at softness, Logan took the words viscerally, entire body tensing as he stepped back. As if Virgil had just torn him open for all to see. “I am fine.” He responded tersely, and Virgil was pretty sure the tension in the room might kill them both.

Virgil hated this, he decided suddenly. Whatever the fuck was happening, he hated it. He hated Logan staring at him like a terrified puppy, and he hated trying to advance on him like he was animal control. “Logan, something is clearly wrong. I’m worried. Please, please just let me help. This once?”

Logan stared at him, thinking over the words seemingly - and then he tried to run. He was running across the floor - and when the fuck did he learn to run that fast - then Virgil was grabbing him by his wrist, cringing with guilt at the way Logan made a pathetic half-shriek in his throat at that.

Virgil held on loosely, knowing it wasn’t a fight in the first place. Humans always felt weak against him now, it took more focus to not hurt them than it did, really. Even if it made him sick to think about, Logan didn’t really have a chance against him. Virgil took a deep breath.

Then Logan tore out of his grasp with a sudden strength Virgil didn’t know he had, pushing Virgil off hard enough to make him stumble before spinning around and starting to scramble with his rooms door. Virgil was frozen for a brief moment. That shouldn’t be possible. How was that possible?

His mind caught up eventually, and suddenly Virgil reached out and pulled Logan away from the door, holding tight to him with a strength that would have usually crushed his ribs. “Logan, Logan, what the utter fuck-” Virgil hissed under his breath, dragging him into the living room.

Logan kicked against him with that scary force again, but he was unfocused - even if he was.. stronger, somehow, he clearly hadn’t learned to use that strength at all. After a few moments, Logan calmed down enough for Virgil to hold him just by his wrists.

The way that Logan pulled against him, trying to use all the force in his body, reminded Virgil viscerally of himself freshly turned.

Fuck, he needed to stop thinking about his turning and being a vampire cause he was pretty sure that was just making things worse, actually. Instead, he needed to focus on the problem in front of him - the shaking fucking mess of his roommate he was trying to subdue.

Virgil choked down his best approximation of a deep breath and tightened his grip around Logan’s wrists as gently as he could until he could feel Logan stopping his attempts at struggle. It felt - mean, really shitty actually, but something was deeply fucking wrong and he was not leaving it. He couldn’t take the risk.

Even if he wasn’t struggling against Virgil, though, Logan was clearly struggling to breath and Virgil knew they weren’t going to have any of the good conversation he wanted while Logan was having a panic attack.

“Hey, bud,” he started tentatively, trying his best to speak to the shaking mass of Logan, “I got you, don’t worry.” He said before adding a few clicks after - he knew humans couldn’t hear them, but it was still instinctual. Even if Logan couldn’t hear them, Virgil would swear he relaxed a little after he did them - maybe Janus was right about his theory that humans could sense them subconsciously.

Slowly, painfully, over a number of minutes Virgil did not bother to count, Logan calmed down. His panicked wheezes turned to shaky but deep breaths and the tenseness slowly leaked out of him. That lost look in his eyes slowly became more aware, gaze focused on the tile. Virgil gave an encouraging smile, “there you go.”

Then, without a singular fucking warning, Logan lunged at him. Virgil didn’t even think to fight back, instead just standing dumbly as he felt what were now obviously baby fangs try to dig into his skin for blood that wasn’t there. Blood that hadn’t been there for years.

Logan choked out a shriek and pulled back sharply, looking at Virgil with overwhelming guilt and terror. “I- Virgil, I’m so sorry, that was unintentional I wouldn’t ever hurt you- I didn’t- Virgil-” his voice broke and he was clearly begging now, as Virgil just stood there, processing the shock.

As soon as he processed it, though, he was moving. He reached out and grabbed Logan, practically dragging him to the couch and throwing him at it. “Stay here,” he hissed, a million thoughts screaming through his head as he ran through the kitchen.

The loudest was in Janus’s voice. You had barely five minutes to live after that bite, if I hadn’t helped.

He was by the fridge and his hands were in the icy cold that he couldn’t even feel anymore and he was grasping around for a feeling of a latch, a secret compartment tucked away in the back of the fridge fucking hell where was it-

His finger caught on something and he pulled on it so hard the compartment door snapped and clattered to the floor with a slam. He did not care, his hands awkwardly grasping for the first thing he could grab. There was a bag of blood in his hands and he was moving, darting for the living room.

Somewhere between the living room and kitchen he tore the bag. He must’ve, because there was blood pouring onto his fingers and onto the floor and it did not matter for a second, nothing mattered but getting too Logan.

He dropped to a knee by Logan’s side, and he looked painfully, horrifically pale now. Virgil could see the way he struggled to breath, one hand grasping at his neck, this time not with fear but from the creeping death Virgil knew was approaching him. Virgil reached out, his bloody hands were on his jaw and he was tilting his head back and-

He poured the blood into Logans mouth, practically covering them both in red. Time stumbled back into place as he did, Virgil able to hear the telltale way Logan desperately choked down the blood. Virgil dug his nails into the couch, pulling himself up. It was all he could do to stop himself from physically tackling Logan.

Everything was slower now, every movement drawn out and Virgil took a shaky breath through his dead lungs. He was so indescribably happy he could breath again, that everything was alright, that Logan would be okay. They were okay.

Then his eyes drifted down to the literal blood on his own hands and he was leering again.

Not quickly like moments ago, no- time slowed around him, the whole force of it pressing against as his back just to indulge in his misery, his shame. Because Virgil had just done the worst thing he could do. He was just as bad as he thought he would become.

Technically, he didn’t. Virgil, for all intents and purposes did not turn Logan. No, that process was started for him by someone else. Someone who Virgil was going to slaughter, going to watch them choke and die starved of blood just like the fate they almost damned his Logan too-

But Virgil had ended the process.

Without even giving Logan a choice. A horrible false choice; a choice between an instant death and a stretched out, painful eternity neither of which he would fully understand, but some semblance of choice. Instead, without asking he poured the blood in his mouth he damned Logan just like he had been damned and-

Logan hugged him. His arms were around Virgil’s torso and he was shaking like a leaf in the wind, gasping into his chest and getting more blood all over the both of them. Virgil stood, his arms by his side dumbly as he processed it and then he hugged him back, holding him in what was practically a death grip.

After a long, tender moment Logan pulled himself up, wriggling out of Virgil's hold embarrassedly. His cheeks were flushed red and he glanced down at the couch with wide eyes. Virgil could not fucking believe Logan had the emotional capacity to be embarrassed over a hug after everything that had just happened.

Virgil eventually fully let Logan go, sitting down beside him on the couch. He took a deep steadying breath and glanced up at Logan with the best reassuring smile he could muster.

Logan gave him a similar, if shakier smile back and Virgil could swear, for just a second, they might actually end up ok. Even if things were gonna be utterly terrible for a while they might, by some fucking miracle, be ok. Of course they would. They were together.

“So..,” Logan awkwardly pawed for the coffee table in front of them, grabbing a notepad and pen with shaky hands. He clicked the pen, turning back to Virgil. “Would the correct terminology be ‘vampirism’?” He asked, pen hovering over paper. Virgil blinked, and then started cackling so hard he was worried he would damage something.

Logan glared at him with withering embarrassment, but Virgil knew it held no heat behind it. He was pretty sure at the moment neither of them knew how to be mad at each other. After a moment, Virgil managed to nod through his cackles.

As soon as Virgil managed to officially calm down - which took a solid minute and a half, by his guess, he looked to Logan and gave him a reassuring smirk, feeling much more calm than just a few minutes ago. Ok. They were gonna be okay. “Sorry. I’m sorry, really, mean it,” he forced out with only a few giggles, “anything else?”

Logan squinted his eyes at him for a long second, still holding onto his annoyance from Virgil's reaction, but he eventually relented, “well, I.. have a list,” Virgil snorted again and Logan pointedly ignored it, “but firstly.. how long have you been 21?” He queried, looking to Virgil with curiosity.

“First thing,” Virgil started, “utterly fuck you for indirectly quoting Twilight at me.” That managed to startle a laugh at Logan, which made Virgil practically preen with delight. “Second thing, I was turned like five years ago-” Logan gave him a surprised look, and Virgil raised a finger before he continued, clarifying.“- when I was 18.”

Logan hummed acknowledgingly, scribbling something down on the notepad and then responding with a curt, “so, if you had aged normally, you would be around 23 at the moment, correct?” Virgil gave a casual nod. He would say he was 23, honestly, but that was a technicality.

“Yup,” he said and then suddenly he was grinning, realizing he got to do something very funny, “which means I’m now the oldest in the apartment. Bitch.” He added and the satisfaction was so much he was a small bit worried he might manage to actually drown in it.

Logan gave him a look with wide, mortified eyes, and then groaned, head in his hands. “Out of all the things that could come out of this..” He said, seemingly half to himself and half to Virgil. Virgil snickered.

“Nah,” Virgil said playfully, “there are a lot of things worse than that, like not seeing the sun ever again - I promise you that, pocket protector,” he spoke without a single thought and then looked back over, cringing seeing the sudden pained look on Logan’s face. Shit. That was the worst thing he could’ve said, wasn’t it?

Virgil reached out, trying to think of something to say to make it better, but Logan waved him off, eyes focused on some invisible point in the middle distance. “Yeah, there is a lot worse,” he said under his breath, and Virgil wasn’t sure who exactly he was speaking too. “This is going to be horrible, isn’t it?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” Virgil answered honestly, “it’s going to really suck.” He reached out, starting to gently rub circles into Logans back. This time, he didn’t refuse the touch, instead just slightly leaning in to it. “You’ll survive though,” Virgil said, “I mean, I did and I’m a fucking wreck?”

Logan choked out a laugh at that, rubbing his face off before sitting back up, leaning away from Virgil’s touch again. “I’ll uh, keep that in mind.” He said with a small smile. After a second, he dropped back to a more serious tone, “whats.. next? What do we need to do now?”

Virgil sighed miserably, because he knew the answer and coincidentally fucking hated it. He hated every part of it with his whole being and how much of a trainwreck it would be. “Very fucking simple,” he said, annoyance already building as he pulled out his phone, and started dialing the number in.

“I have to call fucking Janus.”

#sanders sides #tss #sasi #ts sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #tss logan #tss virgil #janus sanders #analogical #tss fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction

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loopstagirl · 2 months ago

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Virgil groaned, sticking his head under the pillows for a brief second as he tried to pretend that he was imagining the klaxon going off. That just wasn't fair, not when he was warm and comfortable and had been having a really nice dream. It took all of about two seconds and the sound of Scott's thundering feet before he realised that it was no dream, and he would have to get out of bed.

Letting out a long suffering moan, inwardly cursing the world for having disasters when he wanted to be able to sleep in until a reasonable time, Virgil pulled himself up right, yawning as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His hair was sticking up in all sorts of crazy angles, not helped by the way he proceeded to drag a hand through it, yawning once again as he did so. Finally standing up – mildly wondering if it was going to help wake him up or simply make him regret being out of bed even more – Virgil winced as the cold floor met his bare toes. The weather had been unseasonably warm over the last few weeks, even with living on a tropical island. It had just led to Virgil sleeping in what was more commonly referred to as "Gordon-style". A lose pair of shorts, and nothing else. He even had his balcony doors open ever so slightly in order to tempt in a non-existent breeze. It hadn't worked for cooling his room down, but had somehow made the floor cold.

But despite his glance out of the window showed that it was going to be another beautiful day, Virgil knew the chances were that he wasn't going to be around to enjoy it. Damn rescues and their bad timing. Considering how many thoughts had flickered through his sleep-filled mind, Virgil made his way slowly down the stairs, trying and failing to stifle more yawns, and arrived at the lounge at the same time as his younger brothers. Alan looked like he felt, his face pale and his eyes bloodshot, although he had gone as far as putting a shirt on. Gordon looked the same way Gordon always did – even looking like he had been forced to pause long enough to even put a pair of shorts on, although that was something Virgil was adamantly not thinking about. Virgil was certain that his water loving brother never ever ran out of energy. Whether it was dawn or midnight, Gordon was incapable of walking. He bounced.

The same was true now. In fact, it was taking every ounce of Virgil's self control not to stamp on his brother's jiggling foot as the pair of them slid onto the sofa. Alan was standing off to one side, Scott and Jeff in front of their father's desk as they addressed Virgil's space bound brother. If he was awake, Virgil might have smirked at John's pyjama choice, knowing that Five didn't exactly get the same heat-wave that the island was experiencing at the moment. But instead, he just tossed a hand casually in John's direction that might have been an action that somehow resembled a wave before leaning his head back on the top of the sofa, yawning again. He could just about hear the morning chorus of birds beginning to greet the new day, and somehow, the knowledge did nothing to cheer him up.

Read the rest ->

#old fics #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #loopstagirl

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brandstifter-sys · 11 months ago

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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

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idontknowreallywhy · 1 year ago

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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

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hebuiltfive · 1 year ago

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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

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jewel9887 · 2 months ago

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Day 4: experiment

Part 3 to other day prompts. To read them on ao3 or you can just read this one

Logan excitedly walks to the museum where Remus texted to meet up for their date. He still can't believe he had the courage to ask Remus on a date, for some reason being around Remus just made him speak his mind without second guessing himself. Looking up he notices Remus and Roman. Even from a distance, it's easy to tell they're twins especially since they decided to dress alike; Remus is wearing a green shirt under a leather jacket and black ripped pants while Roman is wearing a red shirt under a gold jacket and white pants. It's easy to see how he got them mixed up at first but seeing them together he notices all the differences.

Roman notices him first and waves, jumping up and down, "LOGAN, LOGAN OVER HERE! Oof," Roman stumbles.

Logan watches Remus and Roman start shoving each other as he walks up the steps.

"I thought this was a date with romantic intent?" Logan questions.

"It is and Roman was just leaving" Remus replies glaring at his brother.

"Remus is right. I have a project for my art history class, so I bribed Remus to bring me along but I'll be in a different part of the museum. Remus will text me when the date is over," Roman explained. "I'll see you guys in a few hours or whenever."

Logan doesn't have time to respond before Roman walks inside leaving him and Remus alone.

"You look extra nerdy hot today, Lo," Remus says.

"Thanks," Logan says blushing looking down at his blue constellation tie. "So which exhibit are we here for?"

"Well, a little frog and spider told me you enjoy science and puzzles," Remus responds holding open the door. "They opened a new exhibit where you can do experiments hands-on and there's another exhibit that goes through the history of detective stories and how poisons discussed in the stories realistically work. The best part is this museum won't ban me because they said and I quote "You are a walking disaster" so it lets them know how to make things safer for the kids as long as I don't intentionally hurt anyone which I would never do."

"There are so many things to address in that statement. Firstly, how much have Virgil and Patton talked about? Secondly, I heard about the new exhibit but have not had time to come to see it, and am greatly looking forward to doing so with you. Lastly, you keep mentioning bans; how many places have you been banned from and why?" Logan asks.

"I think you're their third favorite person after Roman and I. Glad I picked a great first date idea and you got to wait a few more dates before I disclose that information." Remus rapidly replies winking.

Remus goes to the desk and pays for their tickets, letting Logan know he can pay for the next one.

Together they head to the science lab room where they don the safety equipment, which are safety glasses, gloves, and a stained lab coat. Most of the experiments are made for kids although Logan manages to rig a bunch together to create a cascade of rainbow foam, somehow barely making a mess. Meanwhile, Remus creates a Rube Goldberg machine with all the random objects lying around. It goes all the way around and through the room with its ending being a picture of him and Logan captured using a polaroid camera creating a big mess and somehow activating the elephant foam which wasn’t part of his machine.

Next, they head to the detective/puzzle room where Remus learns that Oedipus Rex is categorized as detective fiction. Logan takes his time reading all plaques for each era, story, and author for the history part; pointing out any extra interesting facts or ones he thinks Remus would enjoy.”

Once Logan declares he is finished, Remus pulls him to the other side of the room where there are three puzzles set up. One, a murder case to be solved, another a puzzle using different codes to decode a three letters, and lastly a bunch of different puzzle locks. Remus goes straight to the puzzle locks and Logan tries the code and decodes all three letters in no time, then together they easily solve the murder mystery.

"See it's not always the maid or butler," Remus jokes laughing.

"True but in no story has it ever been the cat who poured the poison in the tea and with no human intervention," Logan argues.

"You're just upset I solved it right before you could," Remus says as he grabs Logan's hand to lead him back towards the front.

"Let me text Roman to tell him to wrap up whatever he's doing," Remus tells Logan pulling out his phone but not letting go of Logan's hand.

"This was the best date I've been. I'm glad I lost the bet and let you pick where," Logan happily says.

"You're one of the first to say that and I am glad. Does this mean a second date is in the future?" Remus asks.

"Definitely, though it is my turn to pick when and where we go next," Logan responds.

"You guys are a mess but sounds like it all went well. Remus didn't scare you off." Roman ask Logan walking up to them.

"Not at all. I enjoyed his company and look forward to spending more time with him," Logan answers smiling at Remus. "Ok, gross," Roman jokes.

"Dad texted saying that he has to leave soon and we need to get home to Virgil and Patton," Roman tells Remus.

"Gotcha," Remus says.

”Do you need us to drop you off, Logan?" Remus asks.

”Nope, I drove here and just parked farther away. I will be needing my hand back," Logan laughs holding up his hand in Remus' and then tugging Remus to him for a hug.

Remus lets go and returns the hug. Logan steps away and says bye, leaving a speechless blushing Remus and laughing Roman.

@intrulogicalweek

#Intrulogical Week 2024 #intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders

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part-time-zombie · 7 months ago

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Night Owls

pairings: platonic intrulogical

summary: logan only really lets himself unwind when he's sure he won't get caught or interrupted. he should have known remus would catch him in the act, and he can only hope he'll keep a secret.

tags/warnings: crude language, i know what the summary sounds like but this is not a smut fic, I just don't know how else to word it

word count: 2267

a/n: this summary makes it sound worse than it is. logan just wants to chill out in his onesie without being laughed at, thats all.

Logan didn’t get very many chances to relax. There was always some crisis or argument or problem that needed to be solved, resolved, and fixed, and Logan was usually the only side with the means and the skill to get the necessary work done. It seemed like every day had something else that required his attention and energy, and he was in desperate need of a proper break.

He knew he’d never be able to actually take some time to himself during the day. Everyone else would be awake and coming up with another disaster during those daylight hours, and he’d inevitably have to put aside whatever he was doing to take care of it.

He had tried to simply remain in his room so he could have some time to himself, but he would usually just get summoned in the middle of whatever he was doing. Even on the off chance that he wasn’t, he still preferred to spend his free time in the living room, where he could have better access to his preferred snacks and shows on a far more comfortable couch.

Even if the day passed peacefully through some impossible miracle, there was no way Logan would be able to relax unscathed. If any of the other sides were to actually see him in such a state where he openly indulged in the few things that he still enjoyed, they’d never let him live it down. They had made that point clear enough already after he was caught wearing his unicorn onesie, mocked for dressing like Sherlock, and judged for his enthusiasm regarding his favorite jam. If it made him look anything other than serious, it would only be met with shame and criticism.

Fortunately, Logan knew a means of ensuring that he would be able to properly relax without anyone ever noticing. At least, it would significantly reduce the odds of him being found out or interrupted. None of the other sides stayed up particularly late with most of them in bed before 11:30, courtesy of Logan’s repeated insistence on a healthy sleep schedule. What better time to enjoy some peace and quiet than when no one else would be awake to bother him?

Logan didn’t make it a habit of course. Regularly staying up so late would only have a negative effect on his health, and frequent outings would only increase the chance of someone eventually walking in on him and catching him in the act. He made great efforts to minimize the regularity and duration of these nights, only taking time for himself once every other month at most, and only when the stress and frustration became too severe for him to manage otherwise.

Limited chances to enjoy his free time also meant he had to make the most of every opportunity he had to unwind, treating it as if it would be his last chance to do so. He would partake in every hobby, interest, or habit that brought him joy at once, sometimes testing combinations of coping mechanisms to find the ones which worked best. Logan even took inspiration from the other sides, testing their own de-stressing techniques on occasion. While he didn’t fully understand it himself, he did somewhat share an appreciation for Virgil's tendency to sit on non-chair surfaces. To Logan it felt like a chance to let himself be somewhat silly on occasion, which worked especially well when he was also wearing his onesie.

Roman and Patton's methods also held their own merit, though Logan did slightly alter the finer details to better serve him. He wasn’t comfortable with singing, much less on serenading himself in the mirror, but positive affirmations and motivational encouragement were definitely enjoyable, even if they were on some prerecorded podcast he was listening to instead of genuine praise. Comfort food had proved itself successful many times now, though Logan obviously favored crofters over the cookies Patton preferred on any given day.

Tonight Logan had decided to indulge in some of his favorite habits, even if only for a few hours. After ensuring that everyone else was asleep for the night, he crept downstairs and wasted no time in making himself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the floor in his unicorn onesie and enjoying some crofters fresh from the jar with a glass of wine to chase it with. He wanted to watch some Doctor Who tonight as well but he felt the sound from the tv would be too risky no matter how low the volume was. Logan chose to work on a sudoku puzzle while he ate instead, resting in blissful silence as the apartment settled around him.

Only, that wasn’t just the sound of the apartment. There was a heavy and rhythmic noise from upstairs, slowly but steadily coming closer to him. It almost sounded like…

The footsteps started down the stairs before Logan had a chance to react. He ought to change back to his normal outfit and sit properly or at least come up with a good excuse, but he didn’t have the time to do either before the intruder came to a stop at the foot of the stairs.

Remus stared at Logan with a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. He was, rather fortunately, wearing a black tank-top and boxers, and was far less embarrassed at being caught in his sleepwear than Logan currently was about his own attire.

“I can explain…” Logan started, cringing at having been caught by Remus of all sides.

“Explain which part, exactly?” he teased, a sly grin on his face. “Do you wanna start with the onesie you said you don’t wear anymore, or you squatting crisscross applesauce like that while you’re hunched over a jar of jam in the middle of the night?”

Logan internally chided himself for being so reckless. He should have known that at the very least Remus was bound to wander the house at night if no one else. In hindsight, the fact that he didn’t run into this problem sooner is astounding.

Logan got up from where he was sitting, rather awkwardly given his position, and tried to think of some way to convince Remus to not tell any of the others about this. He knew this was a fools errand, though. There was nothing he could say or do to make the chaotic side keep any kind of secret, especially one so humiliating. Still, for the sake of his pride, he had to try.

“What’s the matter there, brainiac? Dead cat got your tongue?” Remus joked, leaning against the railing in a manner that effectively blocked Logan's way back upstairs.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he urged, keeping his voice down to prevent the others from waking as well. “I doubt you’ll listen to me or really even care, but I am asking you nicely to just keep this information to yourself. I’d rather the others not find out about this, please.”

“Why does that matter?” he asked with a shrug. “So what if you’re actually a total fucking dork under that stupid tie. Do you really need the others to take you seriously that damn badly?”

“Yes,” Logan answered, almost forgetting to whisper in his desperation. “If I am not taken seriously, then I will not be respected. And if I am not respected, I will not be listened to.”

“Oh, who fucking cares about all of that? No one respects me at all and I still find my own ways to get my point across, don’t I?” Remus replied, arching an eyebrow in a knowing expression.

“That’s because you’re more showy about it, you’re loud about your needs in a way that I can’t be,” Logan explained, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I can only be heard through respect.”

Remus just stared back at him, an odd half smile on his face. It seemed like Remus didn’t hear him or was simply ignoring him like last time, which he half expected by now. It was clear that Remus didn’t care about him anyway. Logan wanted to just go back to his room and will this whole situation away but even if he would do something as cowardly as that he couldn’t, not with Remus barricading the stairs. He hoped that just this once, Remus could be reasoned with.

“What can I do to convince you to keep quiet about this?” he asked, already regretting this decision. Entering a bargain like this with Remus would only end poorly, but he had no other option.

Remus’ half smile twisted into a devilish grin, eyes lighting up with opportunistic enthusiasm. If Logan didn’t hate this situation before, he certainly did now.

“You’re really fucking stupid enough to bargain with me over your damn pride?” he scoffed.

“No, I’m desperate enough to negotiate for my privacy and respect.”

Remus gave him a look at that. Not one of mockery or scorn like Logan first predicted, but rather one of disbelief and intrigue.

“Alright, then.” he started, finally moving from his spot by the banister. Remus lazily meandered to the kitchen, searching around for something to eat. Logan considered hurrying back upstairs while he still could, but he decided against it. If this is Remus expressing a willingness to cooperate, he wasn’t about to pass it up.

After finding his desired snack Remus headed over to the couch and sat down with a self-satisfied hum, lapping up large handfuls of peanut butter right from the jar. “If this matters so much to you, we’ll start there,” he said, mouth still somewhat full. He patted the couch next to him and Logan sat back down, though somewhat hesitantly. There was no telling how this would go.

“Every now and then when I get bored and restless I tend to just get up and wander around the place, see where I end up and all that. Sometimes I get a snack, sometimes I watch a movie, sometimes I just end up walking in fucking circles until I stop thinking. But I’m pretty sure that whatever shit you were doing just now was something else. If it’s so important to you that you want to make some crazy-ass deal with me over it, you can at least tell me what it is.”

Logan didn’t like where this was headed but if it will make Remus understand, then he may as well try. He didn’t have much else to lose tonight, after all.

“Sometimes I need to de-stress, and this helps. I know that if anyone were to see me like this it would only lead to more ridicule, so I try to ensure a certain level of privacy.” Logan explained, not looking at Remus. He probably looked pathetic right now, a foolish mess that’s for some reason still wearing his damn unicorn onesie and probably has jam all over his face as well.

“Huh.”

“What?” Logan asked, finally looking up at Remus’ face.

“So those jokes really do something to you after all, then? Here I thought you only got all pissy when no one gave you any attention, but you actually don’t like the nicknames either.”

Logan felt like kicking himself. As if Remus catching him in his onesie was bad enough, now he also knows another weak spot for future torment.

“Please keep the jokes to a minimum around the others,” he begged. “at least regarding this. If they were to find out about me acting this childishly, I’d never hear the end of it.”

Remus smiled back at him. Strangely enough, this smile wasn’t mocking, or devious, or carrying an underlying tone of amusement at Logan's misfortune. It was genuine.

“Don’t sweat it, nerd,” he said with a dismissive wave. “If it bothers you that much then I guess I’ll keep my lips sealed. On one condition though.”

Logan tensed immediately. “What condition would that be?”

“Invite me to the next one, of course,” he said, bouncing lightly on the couch. “Oh, and let me stick around for the rest of tonight too, however long you’re planning on staying up for.”

Logan didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Why?”

“Well, wandering around an empty house at night eventually gets boring,” he explained. “Not to mention kinda lonely sometimes. If you’ll let me chill out with you like this every now and then, I’ll not tell anyone about it. You’d better keep wearing that onesie though, it’s a fun look on you. Or you can wear nothing at all, that works just as fine.”

Logan took a moment to process this. Sure, there very well could be the chance that Remus is tricking him, but he seems so sincere about this that he couldn’t help but want to believe it. If he were being honest about this potential arrangement, it wasn’t the worst deal anyway.

“You promise not to tell anyone, and ideally not to mock me about this either?” he asked.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Remus said, drawing an X over his heart as he spoke.

Logan sighed. He hoped he didn’t regret this in the future. “Fine. But if you change your mind and betray my trust, I will never forgive you.”

Remus eagerly nodded, extending a hand still covered in peanut butter. “Shake on it, then?”

Logan tried not to cringe at the idea. “I’ll just take your word on it this time.”

Remus shrugged, licking his hands clean before grabbing the remote and putting on Doctor Who. Logan nearly chuckled to himself at that, conceding that the deal may work out in his favor.

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