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minyoongiest · 4 years ago

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Hold Me Tight || MYG (M)

• pairing: Yoongi x reader

• rating: 18+

• type/genre: smut, fluff, idol!au, established relationship

• word count: 2k

• summary: Since Yoongi’s shoulder surgery, you’ve had to dial back the physical part of your relationship. However, now that he’s out of the sling, even though he’s not completely healed, you have an idea to ease back into things.

• contains: explicit language, explicit sexual content, mutual masturbation, fingering, vaginal sex, emotional sex, creampie

• note: This is an idea I’ve had in my head since September, and I finally got around to it. Since his shoulder is still a pretty big thing happening, I couldn’t just leave it out, but I think it works.

- translations are at the end

|| ao3 ||

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It’s still raining when I get out of the shower. I listen to it ping against the window and beat on the roof as I dry off and run a comb through my hair before pulling on a fluffy robe and going to find Yoongi.

He’s in the bedroom when I walk in, sitting on the edge of the mattress wearing just his sleep pants, facing the window and looking at his phone. Climbing on my knees on the bed, I move up behind him and slide my arms around his bare waist (being careful of his left arm) and press my lips to the edge of his ear.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Did you just get up?”

“Mmm.”

“What are you looking at?”

“Nalssi,” he rumbles.

“It’s raining,” I murmur, pointing out the obvious.

“Ne,” he sighs, closing the weather app on his phone. “And it’s supposed to continue all day…should go back to bed,” he mutters.

I glance over at the rain-battered window.

“Wait. Does that mean you’re not going to the company today? Or the studio? Or PT?”

“I don’t have any official schedules today,” he says softly. “I have rehab for an hour or so tonight though.”

“Well,” I start slowly, “going back to bed sounds nice, but…”

“But?”

“I mean, I don’t want to wear you out or anything before that, but I had a thought.”

“What thought?” He turns to face me, and I scoot back on the bed.

“I was thinking maybe, since we have a little time, and your arm is out of the sling, we might could have…sex.”

I watch his eyes widen with surprise for a split second before he shuts them and looks down, shaking his head.

“I can’t,” he mutters. “Not yet.”

“You mean because of your shoulder,” I whisper.

“I can’t put all my weight on my arm,” he says quietly, “and you can’t be on top because–”

“I know,” I interrupt. “I thought of that.”

Even if I’m doing all the work, that would still hurt his shoulder.

“But there is something else we can try. A different position. If you want.”

His eyebrow rises, and I reach down to grab his phone before doing a quick image search and handing it back to him.

“What is this?” he frowns.

“Lotus,” I explain. “This way you won’t put any weight or pressure on your arm, and we can still have sex.”

I watch his pupils dilate as his gaze dips into the front of my robe before jumping back to his phone.

“Yeah,” he says huskily. “Okay.”

Before he says anything else, he stands and tucks his thumb into the waistband of his pants, sliding them off his hips. I bite my lip as his rapidly swelling cock appears, shifting on the bed as my pussy squeezes acutely. I want it inside me.

God, I miss him.

He shakes the fabric off of his ankle and climbs onto the bed, glancing at his phone before he sets it on his nightstand.

“So, I sit like this?” he murmurs as he mimics the photo, positioning himself cross-legged in front of the pillows.

“Yes,” I nod and move toward him. “And then I sit…like this.”

Carefully, I climb into his lap so that I’m facing him on my knees, the backs of my things resting on the tops of his.

“Now what?” he whispers.

“Now, I’m gonna kiss you.” My voice cracks, and I wince as his eyes jump to mine.

I move before he has a chance to ask if I’m okay, sliding my fingers into his hair, tilting my head so my nose brushes against his before our lips touch. And I am okay. Mostly. I’m more okay than I have been. I just haven’t gotten to be like this, to touch him like this in longer than I’m used to. I mean, when he’s gone on tour it’s one thing, but when he’s physically here, and I still can’t touch him, it doesn’t feel right.

His left hand grips my hip, and I gasp into his mouth. Without missing a beat, he curls his right arm around my back, pulling me closer, and I moan a little when I feel his hot, hard shaft against my stomach through the gap in my robe. I move my free hand down his spine until I’m cupping his ass, which I give a light squeeze. He grunts against my lips, and I feel it travel straight between my legs.

He breaks the kiss and pulls back, glancing down at me.

“You’re still wearing your robe,” he mumbles.

“Oh. You’re right.”

With his right hand he reaches between us and tugs the belt loose. Rolling my shoulders back, I let the fabric slide off. He immediately grabs it and tosses it aside. I watch his eyes move up my body, and I shiver before dropping my forehead to his.

“You’re not just going to look all day, are you?”

“Mm.”

“Well, I’m going to touch even if you’re not.”

Reaching down between us, I run my fingertips over his rigid cock. His hips jerk underneath mine, but I don’t stop, continuing to stroke and tease him.

He groans my name, his fingers on my hip tightening. I lean my head to the side to kiss his ear and squeal into it instead when his hand dives between my legs, his damn perfect fingers instantly dragging through my wetness.

“I like to touch,” he rumbles softly as his thumb rolls over my clit.

I whimper and try to focus on what I’m doing to his dick. I wrap my whole hand around him, moving up and down before zeroing in on his swollen tip, dragging my fingernail through the glistening precum before rubbing it with my thumb.

“Ssibal!” he hisses into my ear.

I bite my lip and start to take him in my hand again when, suddenly, he buries two of his fingers deep in my pussy. My lungs lock up, and I grab onto his shoulder as he starts to twist his hand inside me.

“Ride them,” he commands quietly.

“O-okay,” I whisper.

Abandoning what I was doing to him, I bury my head in his neck as he begins spreading his fingers. I keep one hand on his shoulder and rest the other on his thigh to keep my balance as I rock my hips against him.

His hand moves faster, pumping in and out, and I hear him grunting softly with each movement. His body is so close to mine, every time I move, my hard nipples drag against his bare chest, sending bursts of heat across my skin. I bite my lips to keep from moaning and fail when he slips in a third finger, my head dropping back as his name rips out of my throat like a swear word.

Immediately, he rolls my clit with his thumb, and I start panting. He knows me too well—where to touch me and when and how…it’s perfect torture.

“I’m close,” I hiss, looking down at him. “Yoongi…”

His eyes meet mine, and I stop breathing at the same time I sink down onto his fingers while his thumb strokes my clit. I come instantly, jerking my head to the side as acute pleasure floods my pussy and spine and thighs, spreading across my skin. I feel my walls spasming around his long slender fingers, even as he slides them out.

“Yoongi,” I choke out as I start to come down.

“Ready for me?”

I blink and look down at his cock between us. It’s even harder and more swollen than when I last touched it.

“Yeah.” I nod, swallowing. “I want it now.”

I lift up on my knees, being careful not to jostle his shoulder, as he lines himself up with my entrance and guides my hips as I slowly sink down. I bite my lip as his angry red tip slides in, whimpering slightly as each feverish inch disappears inside me, until I’ve taken all of him.

“Yoongi?” I lick my lips and look down at him, sliding my fingers into his hair.

“Ne?”

“I missed you,” I whisper.

His right arm slides around my back, holding me close to him as he bucks his hips, making me gasp.

“Nadobogo sip-eoss-eo,” he grunts.

I nod and begin rolling against him as he jerks his hips again. I moan at the sensation of my clit dragging against him, and his fingers tangle in my hair.

I curl one arm around his back and slide my other hand along his jaw, resting my forehead against his as we move together.

“I love you,” I murmur.

“Nado,” he groans. “Saranghae.”

“I’m close again.”

“Now?” He pulls his head back and blinks at me.

“Uh-huh.” I sink down again and feel wet rush between my legs. “It’s been too long…and…”

And my clit keeps rubbing on him every time I move.

“Fuck.”

“Are you close?”

I watch his face as I lift up and drop down again and see a vein throbbing in his neck from how tight he’s clenching his jaw.

“Ne,” he mutters.

His hips jerk faster, and I hold him tighter to me.

“Yoongi…I…”

His hand leaves my hair and grabs my hip, holding them tight to his as he thrusts into me faster and harder than before.

My clit. His dick. I can’t—

“Nal bwa,” he says roughly, and I meet his eyes.

Oh God. They’re so beautiful. And seductive. And they’re watching me while I’m about to—

A sob tears out of my throat and his eyes widen.

“Uljima.”

“It’s not like I’m trying,” I choke out as I rock against him. “I just love you and I’ve missed you, and–”

God, this is the worst time to be emotional about this.

His hand in my hair tilts my head forward until our foreheads are touching.

“I know,” he says softly. “I’m right here.”

“Okay.”

I swallow the stupid lump in my throat at the same time he lets out a low grunt, his hips powering into me.

Fuck, I’m so close.

He does it again, and I whimper, my fingers digging into his shoulder as I move faster in his lap.

“Yoongi, I’m…I–”

He swears loudly at the same time I moan his name, drowning each other out as we come. My body goes still, held tight to his as waves of pleasure crash into me. I feel it in my pussy and spine and legs and belly and nipples…it’s everywhere. His cock is spurting and pulsing at the same time my pussy is clenching and convulsing around it. I’m feeling so much I can’t tell the sensations apart until we start to come down.

I lean forward and kiss his cheek before dropping my head to his shoulder.

“Gwaenchanh-a?” he asks hoarsely, his right hand moving up to stroke my spine.

“Yes,” I murmur. “Better than okay.”

“You can cry now.” He says it so softly I’m not sure he really said it until I look up and see him watching me, waiting for my response.

I shake my head and run my fingers through his hair, particularly the one piece that’s sticking up from how he slept on it.

“I’m really okay,” I assure him. “I just got…caught up in the moment or something. I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“Hajima,” he mumbles. “Sometimes you have to cry.”

“But not in the middle of sex.” I look down. “That’s not…sexy.”

“Love isn’t always sexy.”

How dare he be sweet and philosophical about crying during sex?

“Now I might cry,” I whisper.

“Wae?” He blinks.

“Because that was nice, and I’m feeling a lot of things right now.”

Mostly post-orgasmic but that’s not the point.

“Okay, okay.”

He tucks my face into his shoulder again, and I sigh. I really, really love him.

“Are you tired?”

I lift my head and meet his beautiful brown eyes again.

“Yeah.” I nod.

My body is sated, and my legs are numb from sitting on my knees so long.

“Back to bed now?”

“That sounds good.”

He leans in and kisses me, and I hold his face as I kiss him back.

“I like lotus,” he says softly against my lips.

“That’s good.”

I climb off of him carefully and curl onto my side next to him before he exits the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

When he comes back a few minutes later, he’s wearing clean pajama pants and holding a pair of my panties.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, pulling them on.

“You don’t like to sleep without them,” he points out as he climbs into the bed beside me. “And it’s nap time.”

“Mm. Yay,” I whisper as I move closer to him, resting my head against his arm.

Then he pulls the sheet up over us, and I fall asleep to the sound of rain on the window.

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Translations:

Nalssi – weather

Ne – yes

Ssibal! – Fuck!

Nadobogo sip-eoss-eo – I missed you too

Nado saranghae – I love you too

Nal bwa – Look at me

Uljima – Don’t cry

Gwaenchanh-a? – Okay?

Hajima – Don’t

Wae? – Why?

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godsofhumanity · 4 years ago

Note

I adore your Titan HCs, do you have any for the younger generation?

*jotaro kujo voice* YES! YES! YES! YES!

❤ warning: long post ahead! ❤

PROMETHEUS

okay full disclaimer- Prometheus is my favourite titan <3

i imagine him to be that guy that you bring home to meet your parents and they instantly love him... he's the guy that other parents see and are like "yeah he's a good kid, you should be more like him".

i think Prometheus does have a little bit of a mischievous side, but he's NOT immoral.

he enjoys good pranks and funny jokes, but he's not obscene- he's just cheerful.

i also think Prometheus is very intelligent. from all of the younger generation, i think he's the smartest and the wisest.

Prometheus is also very considerate and gentle. i don't think he's the kind to yell or shout.

he doesn't get "angry" as much as he gets "disappointed" (which we all know is worse T-T).

during the Titanomachy, the original myths say that Prometheus sides with Zeus, but i wanted to elaborate on this further- my hc is that Prometheus didn’t just side with Zeus, he had, for some time before he even knew Zeus existed, been going around and rallying the other younger Titans to form a resistance.

i think that he grew up around Cronus’ palace and watched Cronus as he slowly corrupted himself, and Prometheus knew that it was time for change.

so i think that Prometheus and a few of his cousins had a little superhero group going on, and when they finally met Zeus, i think Prometheus was essentially Zeus’ right-hand man. i don’t think they always saw eye-to-eye, but i think Zeus appreciated Prometheus’ advice and leadership skills, and this just makes the fire incident all the more tragic </3

about the fire incident- i think that Prometheus has a genuine love for humanity. to him, humans are the children of the gods and he believes that it's the gods’ responsibility to take care of them.

which is why he risks his life to grant humanity fire- he knows how important it is for them to survive, and his heart bleeds every time he sees the gods abuse and interfere with them </3

in a previous set of hc's (scroll down to the Cronus section), i mentioned that i think Prometheus' love for humanity began as a child when he saw Cronus create the first age of man- the Golden Age.

i think he was quite captivated by these living beings not born from the gods, but molded and shaped by them in their image. and i think that really impacted him deeply.

Prometheus' wife is Hesione, and i think that when Prometheus stole the fire from Zeus, he did it because he knew that Hesione is a strong goddess, and he knew that she'd support him (which i think she does!). i think his whole family shares his love for humanity.

when Prometheus was chained to the rock, i think Deucalion was still very small and didn't quite understand where his dad had gone, so i have this hc that when Deucalion grows up, he actually goes to the rock where his dad is chained and they talk it out- and Prometheus expects that Deucalion will be full of hate for him because he left them all alone, but in fact, Deucalion is a lot like Prometheus, and he actually really looks up to his dad and he’s proud to be Prometheus’ son, and he’s proud to help humanity the way his dad did :)))

more Prometheus hc's as well Atlas, Menoetius, Anchiale and Epimetheus hc's here <3

HELIOS

i think Helios is a bit of goofball.

in my head, he’s this incredibly handsome and elegant looking titan... he looks so cool and he’s turning heads when he walks.. but then he trips on the pavement because he got distracted looking at a frog on the sidewalk.

Helios is very kind, i think.

in the myths that he appears in, it’s usually because he’s seen something happening to someone somewhere and now someone else wants to know what’s up so they consult him- and it’s occurred to me that Helios literally never refuses to help.

he helps Demeter when Persephone went missing, he told Hephaestus when he saw Aphrodite and Ares having an affair. he helps his granddaughter, Medea, even after she commits a bunch of atrocities. i think at his core, he’s just a very amiable titan.

i think he does have a bit of an ego. he’s proud of who he is and who is family is. he knows that he’s important and that the work he does is important. but Helios isn’t arrogant or boastful about it. he values honour and despises cowardice.

Helios is very energetic. when he gets excited, i think he jumps around a lot and he just wants to tell everyone and anyone about what’s made him so excited.

in some myths, they say that Helios’ wife was Perse, an Oceanid, but my hc for him is that he doesn’t really have one wife- he has many consorts, and i think he doesn’t really care for settling down.

he’d think of himself as a romantic.

also, Helios is very paternal. i think he loves his children more than anything else in the world. he probably shows pictures of his kids to everyone, “hey have you seen my daughter? she literally just turned some guy’s friends into pigs,, isn’t she awesome? #prouddadmoment”

i don’t think that Helios is the brightest bulb in the shed. he’s not stupid, but i don’t think he’s an intellectual genius the way i’d say Prometheus probably is.

in the previous section, i mentioned the idea that the younger titans had a little resistance group, and i think Helios was a part of this group.

i have this brotp idea that consists of Prometheus, Helios and Pallas being bros. i think Prometheus brings the brains, Helios brings the looks, and Pallas brings the brawn.

i’ve always wondered why the younger titans never seem to have that much of a role in Olympus- i mean, it’s always Zeus and his siblings, despite the other titans being quite powerful (i mean, Helios is literally the Sun). my hc for this is that after Prometheus was so brutally punished by Zeus for the fire incident, everyone was pretty hurt- i mean, they were closer to Prometheus than to Zeus, so seeing him being punished like that was just extremely sad and heartbreaking for the rest of the titans.

i think as a result of the incident, the rest of the titans kinda distanced themselves from Olympus. no one wanted to be there anymore because it felt wrong.

i like the idea that Helios visits Prometheus at his rock often, and they sit and chat and Helios tells him about everything that’s happening :)

SELENE

i think that Selene is the eldest of Hyperion’s children. first came Selene, then Eos, and then Helios- the moon is followed by the dawn which heralds the coming of the sun and the start of a new day.

Selene is very tall. i imagine her to look very beautiful, but also very intimidating.

while her siblings are described as having numerous lovers, i don’t think Selene is much of a romantic. the only love of her life was the mortal Endymion.

i think Selene is very guarded. she comes across to people who don’t know her as cold and aloof, but that couldn’t be further from the truth- in fact, i think Selene is very emotional, but she’s not vocal about it.

she expresses her feelings through actions rather than words.

just as i think Helios was part of Prometheus’ little resistance force, i think Selene and Eos were as well.

as siblings, i think Selene, Eos and Helios are super close- they are quite inseparable. they’re all very protective of each other as well, and they’d defend each other at any cost.

EOS

Eos is the middle child in Hyperion’s family.

i think she’s very energetic and passionate. she’s incredibly friendly and not-shy.

as the goddess of dawn, i think she generally is a pretty gentle soul, but she can also be very loud.

i think she has more than a short temper- it’s a fleeting temper. she’ll start yelling and screaming, but then she’ll see a butterfly and she’ll calm down immediately.

Eos is also a little whimsical. she can be indecisive about what she wants or what she feels- that’s not to say that she’s deceiving. i don’t think she has a deceptive bone in her body- she always says what she’s thinking, maybe sometimes without a filter.

but even so, i don’t think Eos plans ahead. she’s a live-in-the-moment type of girl.

in the Eos-Tithonus myth, when Tithonus starts to age because Eos forgot to gift him eternal youthfulness to go with his immortality, Eos takes pity on the poor guy and turns him into a cicada- and even though it was kinda Eos’ fault that Tithonus was suffering from old age to begin with, i think it was a kind gesture that she relieved his suffering, rather than just ignoring him.

related to cicadas- i think Eos love bugs and critters and stuff like that. she loves all animals, and that includes little insects.

there’s a myth where Eos sleeps with Ares and incurs Aphrodite’s wrath- Aphrodite punishes her to be filled with insatiable lust and that’s why Eos kidnaps a lot of pretty boys. but tbh, i like the idea that Eos, at her core, is just naturally a lover.

i think she’s a bit of romantic, and she falls in love easily.

i think she appreciates typical romantic sentiments- roses, and chocolate.

of course, i think her greatest love is Astraeus, her husband (more about him below ^-^).

more Eos hc's here :D

PALLAS

Pallas is one of the titans who doesn't really have too much lore.

the Latin author Hyginus calls Pallas "the giant", and he was assumed to be the titan god of warcraft, so this makes me imagine Pallas to be decently tall, and muscular.

Pallas in my head is pretty stoic. i don't think he's all that verbal with his emotions.

in saying this, i don't think he's averse to saying what he feels- he doesn't think that emotions are a bad thing, he just doesn't express it too much.

earlier in this hc set, i mentioned my hc that Prometheus, Helios and Pallas have a brotp. i think that Prometheus and Pallas, in particular, are really close- Pallas is the son of Crius who was thrown into Tartarus for siding with Cronus, so i imagine that Pallas and his brothers must have grown up with Prometheus and his siblings.

related to his domain of warcraft, i think Pallas is a really good fighter. i think he likes to fight, but he's very honourable.

if he lost in a fight, i don't think he'd be a sore loser, or he'd rage about it- he'd accept his defeat with grace and dignity, and he'd acknowledge the strength of his opponent.

in my previous set of hc's for the elder titans (scroll down to Eurybia's section), i mentioned that although Pallas likely would have sided with Cronus rather than Zeus during the Titanomachy in the original myths, my hc is that Pallas sided with Zeus instead.

this ties in with my hc that Pallas is an honourable and noble titan.

Pallas' wife is Styx and i have this hc that while on a hunt, Pallas went to wash his bloody weapons in Styx's river, not realising that she was there. and Styx was really mad about him "polluting" her river so they fought. and i think Pallas was really impressed by her fighting skills, and eventually they became friends, and then lovers, and then they got married.

i also think Pallas was really lackadaisical about it- i mean, i don't think he's a romantic at all. he just looked at Styx one day and was like, "hey do you want to get married?", and Styx, who is also generally pretty chill agreed <3 i think they are probably the most chill couple from the younger titans.

PERSES

my hc is that Perses is the middle child in Crius and Eurybia's family. Pallas is the oldest, and Astraeus is the youngest.

i think Perses, from all his siblings, is the most like Crius.

he's very intelligent, and sensible. he's quite mature.

Perses' name means "to ravage" or "to destroy" which paints a pretty brutal idea of him. but i personally don't think that Perses is violent as much as he is a strategic and skilled fighter.

i like the idea that Pallas taught Perses to fight <3

i think he's a little colder than his siblings, and i think he has blind loyalty to his king, which is why i agree with the traditional lore that suggests that Perses ended up in Tartarus after the Titanomachy.

in the previous set of hc's (scroll down to Eurybia's section), i mentioned that i think Eurybia has moments where she can fly into quite a ruthless rage- i think Perses inherits this from his mum.

on Perses' wikipedia page, it says that he "was wed to Asteria", which, when i first read it, sounded pretty cold and aloof. i mean, it didn't say that Asteria was his consort, or his wife (which sounds more intimate and familiar), it just says that he was wed (which sounds like it's just something that *happened*)...

what i'm trying to say, is that i don't think Asteria and Perses had a love marriage- i think it was probably arranged.

that's not necessarily a bad thing. i think Perses and Asteria both agreed to it, and i think that for the most part of their marriage, though they may have not been in love with each other, they were certainly quite content to be together.

Perses, though he can seem indifferent to those around him, is still kind. i think he's very patient, and respectful.

i've said before that i like the idea of having Hecate's magic something that Hecate inherited from Perses' side and Asteria's- i think Coeus (Asteria's father) was pretty nifty at magic as was Crius (Perses' father), and i think Perses and Asteria both inherited this and passed it on to Hecate.

ASTRAEUS

Astraeus is referred to as the titan god of the dusk, and he was also associated with the winds and the constellations.

my hc is that, unlike his older brothers, Astraeus is a lot more in touch with his emotions. i think he's quite vocal about it.

in terms of personality, i think Astraeus closely resembles his mum, Eurybia.

more often than not, he's always smiling and laughing, and being positive.

i also think that Astraeus is a gooey romantic. he's the cheesy type.. the cringey lover.

Astraeus' wife is Eos, which makes a lot of sense thematically since Astraeus represents dusk, and Eos represents dawn.

i have a hc that Astraeus fell in love with Eos the first time he saw her- love at first sight. and i think Eos felt the same way.

because Eos represents the dawn, i imagine that she's an early riser.. i mean, really really early- 3 AM. Astraeus meanwhile, who represents the dusk, is a little bit of a late riser.

i have this hc that Eos stopped by his house at some obscene time in the morning and woke him up so that he could ride with her in her chariot and witness the sunrise the way she sees it, and it was the most beautiful thing Astraeus had ever seen (besides Eos of course <3).

anyways, then they got married and sickened everyone to death with their cringey nicknames for each other.

in the original myths, it's mentioned that Eos had many lovers on the side, but i think Astraeus is okay with it- i don't think he feels threatened by Eos' affairs because he's knows that he's the only true one.

also, i'm not sure whether Astraeus was originally sent to Tartarus, but my hc is that he fought on Zeus' side through Prometheus' little super-titan resistance team. this makes sense to me not simply because i like Astraeus and i don't want him to rot in Tartarus, but as the god of the dusk, he has a pretty important role as a personified concept. so it doesn't make sense why he would get removed from the narrative like that.

ASTERIA

Asteria is best known as being the mother of Hecate by Perses.

as i've already said, i think that Asteria was quite proficient with magic herself, and i like the idea that she taught Hecate.

in terms of personality, i imagine Asteria to be very clever, and witty. i think she's very gracious and patient. i don't think that Asteria is much of a fighter- she doesn't like violence or conflict, but she hates injustice more, and she is willing to make reasonable sacrifices if the cause is just.

my hc is that she is close to her cousin Prometheus. i think they get along very well because they have similar personalities. i also like the idea of her being good friends with Hesione, who becomes Prometheus' wife.

during the Titanomachy, she almost definitely sided with Zeus in the original myths, and i agree with that idea.

after the war, the myths say that Zeus pursued Asteria as well as her sister Leto, but Asteria rejected his advances. in most myths, Zeus' unrelenting pursuit of her ends with Asteria escaping from him by transforming into the island which becomes known as Delos.

i like the idea of Asteria becoming Delos which, as we know, becomes the refuge of Leto when she gives birth to Apollo and Artemis. i like the idea of family always finding away to provide support, BUT i don't like the aspect of Zeus as a forceful and insatiable god.

so my hc is that while Zeus did chase after Asteria, i think Delos had already been created by Asteria previously as a place for her to raise Hecate, and when Asteria returned to that place, i think Zeus knew that it wasn't happening and he gracefully gave up.

i mentioned in Perses' hc's that i think Asteria and Perses had an arranged marriage. i think their marriage was interrupted by the Titanomachy, and although Asteria took Zeus' side, i think Perses took Cronus' side- which definitely led to a little conflict within their family.

my hc is that Asteria already knew that she was pregnant with Hecate during the Titanomachy and she wanted a better life for her daughter which is why she fought alongside Zeus, and i think she also knew that Perses wouldn't fight against Cronus- so she had to choose between her child and her husband, and she chose her child.

after Olympus gets established, i think Asteria and Leto live on Delos together, happily retired, the way they deserve <3

LETO

i've actually already done a few Leto hc's here so i won't repeat them :)

#i love the titans.. god bless you for sending this ask to me <3 #prometheus #helios #selene #eos #asteria #perses #pallas #astraeus #hc #asks #lukewasrightaboutthegods #long post

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eirabach · 4 years ago

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Taking Chances [1/1]

For @janetm74 and @badthingshappenbingo! Scott + Alan and ‘More Expendable than You’

This is the danger.

This has always been the danger.

Scott’s up here, and Alan’s down there and really, John ought to know.

It isn’t like he wouldn’t do it too.

There’s a hole in the ground and a hole in Scott’s belly where he thinks, he thinks, he used to keep his stomach but it dropped right out oh, about ten minutes ago, and now it’s burning up in the lava flow right about where Pod B is creeping its way toward – well. Hell, by all accounts.

All accounts except John’s, anyway.

John has other words for it. Long, scientific ones. Like pyroclastic and rates of descent and –

And it’s possible Scott stopped listening somewhere between watching his youngest brother clamber up the side of a rumbling volcano and the thunder that followed, and now there’s ash billowing from one hole and bile from the other and he doesn’t really have time for this. At all.

“Say again, Thunderbird One?”

“You heard me, John.”

“I heard someone suggest something unutterably stupid. Are you sure you don’t want to try again? That ash cloud isn’t staying up there all day, Scott, and you do not want to be under it when it drops.”

“I can beat it.” There’s the John equivalent of a long, pregnant pause. “I can.”

“You can’t just demand – that isn’t how physics –”

“I don’t give a damn about physics, John!”

A voice pipes up from the smoking, burning fields below. “Uh, do I get a say in this?”

“No!”

“No.”

“Right.” Alan sighs, “I mean I am the one on the ground so –”

“Shut up, Alan.”

“Hold your position, Pod Explorer. Scott –”

But Scott’s done with listening, already out of his seat, helmet on, jet pack primed. He sets Thunderbird One to hover outside of the range of the ash cloud, and kicks at the emergency egress button.

“Save it,” he says, and jumps.

And it works – at first. He roars down toward the little yellow dot below, boosters at full power, and honestly John worries way too much about all the wrong things. Scott’s got this and then he’s gonna get Alan and then –

Ah. And then. The wind changes, ash blinding him as it sticks to his visor, settles heavy on his shoulders. Makes his jet pack whine and stutter and –

He hits the ground with a grunt, not quite hard enough to really hurt, but enough to wind him, the jetpack taking most of the impact anyway. Which is just as well, really, because as he sits up – gingerly, not that he’d admit it – he realises, oh.

“Uh, John –” The piece of land he’s landed on is maybe ten feet square, the edges crumbling into a bubbling, stinking lake of fire. “I may have a situation.”

Even through the sound of the ground cracking around him, the sputtering of the lava around his little island, the howl of the dying volcano, he hears the sigh – “Alright. You asked for it.”

—

On the other side of the volcano, Two is ferrying the unlucky denizens of the closest campground to safety and Virgil – Virgil sounds pissed.

“EVA. Under an ash cloud that’s gonna drop blocks of rock the size of Four on your head. Of course, why wouldn’t you?” Alan’s pretty sure he can hear a migraine forming just from the tone of Virgil’s voice. “How long?”

“Under current atmospheric conditions? Less than three minutes.”

“2.5074,” Eos pipes up cheerfully. “And counting.”

“I can’t – I have fifty people to get to safety here Scott!”

“I know, I don’t expect –”

“No? Now we’ve gotta worry about you as well!”

“No one needs to worry about me!”

“Oh well that’s okay then, hope you’ve got your best boots on.” And then there’s Gordon, sticking his oar in. “Since you’re gonna be tap dancing your way to a fiery doom.“

"Right this moment I’d pay to see that.”

“I can hear you you know.”

“Oh it’s just selective hearing loss then?”

Alan drops his head to the dash with a metallic thud.

“Uh, you ok?” His rescuee looks pretty uncomfortable squeezed into the back of the pod. Listening to International Rescue bickering is probably not helping.

“I’m really sorry about this.“

"Hey, no. I got a brother. I get it.”

Alan hits his baldric with a grimace. “Thunderbird One hold your position.”

“Ala –”

“Do as you’re told for once Scott.”

He has no idea if the answering silence is due to shock or muting, and he doesn’t honestly much care.

His fingers tighten around the Pod’s controls. He could – he ought to – ask John what to do next, but John’s kinda got a lot going on right now with the whole ‘evacuate an entire county while simultaneously dressing Scott down to the size of a newt’ thing. But the clock is ticking and the hiker in the back is sweating and –

And this is his goddamn job, isn’t it?

Pod B makes its delicate way over the cracked crust of the lava flow, and Alan keeps his eyes fixed on the route ahead – on Scott – instead of the billowing threat 200 yards away.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He grits his teeth, counts down from ten. “Rescuing an idiot.” Then, because he feels like it. “Duh.”

Already Alan can see the rock beneath Scott shifting with the currents, and they’re slow enough now but that cloud’s coming down and Scott’s gonna be –

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Alan extends the Pod’s legs and sends up a swift, silent prayer that Brains’ heat proofing stands the test. “I’ll be one minute and then we can –”

“Alan, no. Back off.”

Pod B pauses, one spindly toe dipped into the lava field between Alan and Scott. “Say what now? Look Scott, I dunno where you were during third grade history but lemme tell you what happened to the people in Pompeii cause it was –”

“Get out of here, and that’s an order.”

“You gotta be –” Alan’s denial is cut short, a block of volcanic matter as tall as the Pod and twice as wide slamming into the unstable ground to his right. The hiker whimpers. “Oh man! Okay. okay!” He sets the Pod skipping through the pools, smoke and steam obscuring much of what’s in front of him until Scott’s just a vague blueish blur. “Get ready to jump on cause uh, I ain’t gonna have time to roll out the red carpet or anything –”

“I said, leave.”

“Nuh huh, not happening, hang on just two more seconds –”

“Alan!”

He skids to a halt at the edge of Scott’s little island and shoves the door open.

“Come on, come on, come on!”

Scott – Scott backs off. Alan gapes at him.

“What are you –”

“I said go!”

“And leave you to roast? What, like you’re expendable now?”

“Well – well maybe I’m just more expendable than you.”

It hits him harder than any pyroclastic flow ever could. His heart skips a beat, six, starts up only to try and climb out his throat and god, he might actually be sick. He might just straight up vomit his entire heart out onto the floor ‘cause that only sounds over dramatic but what Scott’s threatening – what Scott’s doing –

Alan narrows his eyes. Wills his heart to stop trying to beat its way through his chestplate.

“I have never heard anything so stupid in all my life. Get in. Or I’m getting out.”

They stare at each other. Somewhere in the back of his mind Alan faintly recognises the sound of his hiker having a panic attack. He thinks it’s the hiker. Maybe it’s him. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Scott’s still just standing there and their two minutes is up and –

Gordon’s voice is grim, serious, and man there is gonna be one awkward family dinner tonight.

“Alan, grab him. By the balls if necessary.”

Alan does as he’s told. Scott’s almost twice his size and weighed down by a jetpack but he hardly even notices, dragging him up through the hatch and launching him in the direction of the definitely semi hysterical hiker. Two’s grappling hooks hit them at the same moment Scott lands half in the poor guy’s lap, and Alan points a shaking finger at him as he tries to stagger to his feet against the sway of the Pod.

“Stay there. Say nothing.”

They rise towards Two’s belly in a perfect, awkward silence that’s broken only by the clang of the pod doors opening and the shuddering breaths of the unfortunate hiker.

Alan docks the Pod with far more force than is really necessary. Scott grapples to keep his footing again, and a little dark part of Alan thinks serves you right. The hiker clears his throat.

“Uh – thank you. I um – I can get out now, right?”

Alan grunts, and pulls the lever for the exit. The hiker skitters down the ladder and disappears into the vastness of Two’s belly. He’ll probably get lost there, too. Alan will have to remind Virgil to drop him off. Somewhere. Whatever. His hands are shaking and his face feels hot and Scott’s looking at him all oh no what’s the matter like he doesn’t know. Like he’s forgotten.

“Alan, I really – I don’t understand what you’re so upset about?”

“You think it’s a compliment? So – so what? I’m the youngest, I’m the baby so fuck the rest of you right?”

“Alan!”

“Oh my – I’ve got ears, you know! Ears and – and feelings and I don’t think I ought to be all touched that you apparently think the best thing for me is to leave me on my own.”

“That isn’t what I meant –”

“No.” He spins round, face hot and fists tight. “No, but it’s what you did. What you do. And you – one day you might actually – and I have to live with that? No.” He shakes his head, wills the furious burn to stay behind his eyelids. He won’t cry. He won’t. “Never. Don’t you dare.”

Scott blinks at him.

“Sorry,” he says, and it’s all cool and calm and ugh. “But if it comes down to you or me –”

“What about me or Virgil? Or John, or Gordon? Huh?” Alan takes two steps forward and jabs his finger into Scott’s chest. Scott stares down at it, nonplussed. “What, do you rank us?”

“No! No of course not!”

“So what is it then, huh? Cause I dunno if you’ve noticed but by the rules of the universe you can only die for one of us. Once.” And dammit, dammit his breath is coming in stutters and his eyes are leaking and – “I lost dad, I don’t remember mom, I don’t – I can’t –”

And Scott wraps his arms around him and squeezes, tight.

“I’m sorry I frightened you, kid.”

Alan groans into Scott’s dusty flight suit. “I wasn’t scared. And I’m not a kid.”

“Uh huh.”

The steady rise and fall of his brother’s chest helps him to regulate his own breathing, the thud of Scott’s heartbeat a steadying force as he risks looking up.

He doesn’t have to look up quite as far as he used to. Not quite.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” he says. “You won’t be able to try it again.”

Scott’s eyebrows tick up.

“No? You gonna stay home next time?”

“Not likely,” he sniffs. “John’s gonna kill you, you know.”

“With you around to rescue me?” And Scott’s smiling, hand in Alan’s hair, and he lets himself smile back because – because this is what matters, isn’t it. This is what isn’t, won’t, can’t ever be expendable. “I’ll take my chances.”

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds #scott tracy #alan tracy #bad things happen bingo #clare vs writers block

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brutal-nemesis · 4 years ago

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EoS: Rescue O’Clock

FYI There’s a bit of a time gap (like 6-7 hours) between this chapter and the previous one but all the in between stuff is just like more torture and I’m thinking of ordering that stuff a little differently. I just wanted to get to this bit because :) I think it’s fun :)

Ingredients: restraints, needles, betrayal, sort of mock execution/death threat, mouth sewn shut (the process is not described), dehumanization, referenced paralyzation

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Jairus couldn’t sleep. But how could he? His feet were slashed to hell, the burn on his chest stung horribly, the “cot” in his cell was practically just a piece of wood, and the col...that thing around his neck was incredibly uncomfortable. Oh, and his arm was full of fucking barbed wire. Not that it hurt that much if he could keep it still, but even when it wasn’t lighting his arm on fire, he could still feel it in there, and that was horrifying in itself. He’d been rendered completely powerless in a matter of hours, and his body was already littered with constant reminders. So yeah, he couldn’t sleep.

He didn’t know how long he laid there in a state of half-consciousness, fighting the urge to toss and turn. He had finally almost dozed off when he heard a wooshing sound, like a gust of wind. Cautiously opening his eyes, he felt his blood run cold. That witch had teleported in his cell. Jairus quickly sat up, ready to make things as difficult as possible for her. But as she walked towards him, Jairus realized it wasn’t Einn at all. In fact, it was someone he was very glad to see.

Before Jairus could stop her, Elitar had wrapped him in a tight hug. He fought back a scream as the pressure of her embrace squeezed the barbed wire into the flesh of his arm.

“Ah, could you-not-”

“What the hell did you get yourself into,” she asked, pulling back to look him over. Jairus gently pushed her away from his left arm before answering.

“I’m-look, can we talk about this once we’re out of here? Just get this stupid thing off me first.” Jairus yanked the chain attaching his collar to the wall.

“Of course, of course.” Elitar muttered a simple spell and the chain snapped. “I’ll get it all the way off once we’re back, don’t you fret. Get on up now, you don’t want me to teleport while you’re sitting down.” She grabbed his right hand and pulled him up. Jairus stood without thinking, pain exploding in his feet the moment they touched the ground. Falling back onto the cot, he stifled a scream as Elitar looked at him with concern.

“She-my feet-I forgot,” Jairus huffed through gritted teeth as the agony in his feet started to die down.

“Captured for a day and you’re already this helpless.” Jairus shot her a pained glare, and she laughed. “Kidding, kidding. Here,” she bent down and slid one arm under his knees and the other along his back. Jairus shifted his left arm, careful that she didn’t grab onto it. With some difficulty, Elitar stood up and quickly muttered the same teleportation spell she had used to get there.

In the blink of an eye, they were in Elitar’s workshop. Jairus felt himself relax at the familiar sight of its cluttered workbenches covered in scattered papers, potion ingredients, and gemstones of all shapes and sizes. Grunting, she set him down on the padded table in the center of the room and started to clear it of clutter. “Well, what exactly did they do to you?”

“They just, you know, cut my feet a bunch and burned me with a knife and, uh, put some barbed wire in my arm. For the stuff that you need to heal.”

“How did they get barbed wire in your arm? Shouldn’t it heal itself too fast for something like that?” Elitar had finished clearing the table and began mixing something at one of the workbenches.

“They had this...what does it matter? They put in there, that’s all you need to know to fix it, right?” He wasn’t afraid to talk about it at all, he just didn’t need to right now. And he was tired. That was all. “Where is everyone?”

“Asleep. They were up all last night worried about you.” Elitar sighed. “I had to force them to get some sleep. And no,” she cut Jairus off as he opened his mouth, “I’m not going to wake them. The whole incident has already scarred them enough without seeing you...like this. I’ll get you fixed up and you can see them in the morning.”

“But you can’t use water magic, how are you gonna-”

“You think all these potions are for show? And your arm will heal itself, at least.” Jairus fought back a wince as she gently grasped his arm and examined it. “Go ahead and lie down.” Jairus’s gaze shot to the leather straps dangling off the table before he could stop himself, his heart rate beginning to spike. No, no, he was safe. Elitar wouldn’t do that to him right now. She only did it that one time because she had to.

But what if she had to again?

“I-I’d rather just, uh, stay sitting, if that’s okay. I mean, I’m fine to lay down, it just, uh, hurts...my arm.” Elitar sighed in response.

“Considering the fact that I’m about to put you to sleep,” she walked over and pushed him down so many hands grabbing his unresponsive body and laying it on the table no stop get off, “it’s best if you’re lying down.”

“Right. No that’s fair. It’s all good. I get it.” Jairus shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable, deluding himself into thinking he was in his own bed. “Hey, uh, you’re going to take this...metal thing off me, right?”

Elitar turned and gave him a confused look. “Of course. I’ll take care of everything once you’re out. All you need to do,” she held up the syringe she had prepared, “is hold still.” Jairus nodded and watched it move towards his neck she was going to paralyze him his right arm, trying to relax his muscles. He was safe now, he was just being paranoid. He was...

Jairus expected to wake up to pain, but not this much. His face felt like it was on fire, particularly around his mouth. He tried to open it, but pain flared up as soon as he tried to move his lips. Something was keeping them together.

Stitched together.

His eyes shot open. He was still in the workshop, still lying on the table. He tried to sit up, but something stopped him. Horror began to sink its icy fangs into his rapidly beating heart as he looked down at his body. Leather straps encircled his body. Elitar really had restrained him. Instead of healing him, helping him, she’d strapped him down and stitched his mouth shut. She’d left that collar around his neck. He felt his breathing hasten as doubt wormed its way into his mind. Was Einn right? Had Elitar just been using him? No, no, no there had to be some kind of mistake. She was like a mother to him, she said he was part of the family. This wasn’t Elitar’s doing. It couldn’t be.

But it was.

“I see you’re finally awake. I considered just finishing the job while you were still out, but I’d rather you not die in blissful ignorance of how much of a fuck up you are.” Elitar stood over him, distaste written all over her face. “You had one fucking job, dragon hybrid.” She shook her head. “You were just supposed to kill the demon hybrid. That was all. One easy task. But could you do it? No. No, you had to take pity on her and run off, and my useless children couldn’t even stop you. And then you got yourself captured.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Pathetic. I knew I shouldn’t have used a street rat for this.” Jairus shook his head in disbelief, each sentence hitting him like a punch in the gut.

“So now I have to clean up the mess you’ve made. But I’ll do you one kindness. My children are never going to find out how much of a failure you are. I won’t let them see the pathetic thing you’ve become.” Elitar drew her knife, pointing the sharp tip directly at his heart. “I’m going to put you out of your misery. So be grateful.” Jairus was frozen under the blade, this couldn’t be happening, he didn’t want to die, he couldn’t, not yet, not here, not now, Elitar please please don’t do this what did I do wrong I-

The scene shifted before his eyes, the cold gray of the workshop warming to a familiar reddish brown. The knife at his heart was removed, the woman holding it still familiar. Jairus felt sick to his stomach as Einn’s face broke out into a twisted grin. “The look on your face,” she laughed, momentarily unable to hold in her delight, “That was absolutely worth it. I’m sorry, dear little dragon,” she leaned down over him, ruffling his hair, “I wouldn’t let you get away that easily.”

TAGS: @galaxywhump

#finished writing this while watching a stream lets gooooo #my own evil makes me smile sometimes #please let me know how obvious it was that there was something sus goin on #i didn't intend for it to be too sneaky but I Am Curious #elitar is not that much of a bitch i swear #einn was just being sneaky with the illusion magic bs #it was not supposed to be as whumpy as it was but i physically cant write happy content #so every single thing *elitar* did just became. whumpy #can't use quotes so i have to use asterisks #now onto things involving other ocs :o #jairus #einn #elitar #end of summer #needles cw #betrayal cw #mouth sewn shut #dehumanization cw #i wrote something

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strongerwiththepack · 4 years ago

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Private Waters: Part 3

The ending at last! It’s a little short but I didn’t want to drag it out longer than it needed to be. Hope you enjoy this wee epilogue.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Or read the whole thing on FanFiction.net]

Virgil knew his brother probably could have done this twice as fast as they were going but Gordon was letting him set the pace and Virgil appreciated it.

They had maybe been swimming for 20 minutes when they saw a boat steering towards them. Virgil could have sung with relief. He desperately need to be on solid ground right now.

He saw the relief evident on Gordon's face as well as they sat back to paddle. The boat slowly drew up to them, it was one of their small dingy boats. He could see Scott and John peering over the side.

"You guys okay?" Scott shouted as he threw a floatation ring out to them.

Virgil was still trying to process how he was suppose to grab it when Gordon answered for him.

"All good Scott! But our hands are tied so we're going to need some help."

Of course Scott hadn't known their hands were tied. He thought to how much simpler this would've been if they hadn't been.

Luckily, since the boat was so low, Scott and John were able to lean over and pull him in. It wasn't exactly pretty as the side of the boat dug into his stomach and he flopped unceremoniously into the floor but he couldn't find it in himself to care. In fact he just lay there breathing heavily and enjoying the hard surface beneath him.

"Virg, you okay?" He heard Scott ask as his brother cut away the zip ties. He hissed slightly as he felt them pull away from his skin. They must've cut into him at some point.

"Yeah." He sighed as he slowly pulled his hands in front of him.

Scott was hovering. "Just stay still while I get Gordon."

At the mention of his younger brother Virgil managed to sit himself up and watch as Scott and John yanked Gordon over the side of the boat as well. Similarly to him, it was not a graceful process.

His brother lay on the deck while Scott cut off the zip ties using a small pen knife. He could see the gouges in Gordon's wrists as Scott slowly pulled them away. Stupid zip ties.

Gordon sat up, with some help from John while cradling his damaged wrists gently. Scott was rooting about in the storage bin and pulled out two towels and two bottles of water. He tossed a set of them at John for Gordon and brought the others over to him.

"Are you guys okay?" Scott asked for the third time as he wrapped the towel around his shoulders, apparently not convinced he'd received a proper answer yet.

"We're fine Scott." Virgil assured as he also accepted the water. "Just ready to get back to solid land." He tried to joke but it kind of fell flat as Gordon caught his eye and his cheeks flushed slightly as grimaced.

Suddenly he was being tackled into a hug though. "Don't scare me like that!" Scott said fiercely.

Virgil peered over his shoulder at Gordon getting a softer hug from John as quiet words were whispered. It kind of made the situation come crashing down around him.

They had been in so much danger. And practically in their own home as well.

When Scott pulled back, a fierce protective look in his eyes Virgil asked. "The boat? They have pictures.”

Scott's face steeled. "Kayo's on it, they won't get far."

Virgil nodded and settled back, shivering slightly as he wrapped the towel more firmly around himself.

Later, after a hot shower and a change of clothes - and an extensive report given to Scott - they settled down in the late evening to finally cut the cake.

His wrists itched beneath the bandages that had been carefully applied. Gordon had the matching look with the addition of some stitches for the cut on his arm. It had been a bit more than a 'scratch', as he'd put it at the time.

There was still distraction in the air as Scott and John sat typing away on tablets, dealing with today's events and the GDF. EOS had tracked the boat as it fled from the island so Kayo hadn't had any problem catching up to it. With a GDF cruiser on hand for backup the men were taken into custody quickly.

There was also the concern of the anonymous individual who had put out the reward for information. It looked like they had a new enemy, a powerful one, and that had them all on edge.

They men on the boat really had been amateurs though, it shouldn't have turned into such a mess. There were already plans in place for protocols to be re-written and Gordon had voiced an interest in putting them all through drown-proofing training.

Scott has flashed him a look of concern at the implications involved in Gordon's request and Virgil knew his little brother must have divulged a little of his panic in the water.

Not that he blamed his brother, for International Rescue to work, everything had to be as transparent as possible. Keeping secrets caused accidents. That didn't mean he couldn't be slightly embarrassed by it though.

So, as Virgil sat with the offered knife ready to cut into the cake that had been specially ordered from the mainland, his head was heavy with responsibilities. There was a lot to do to ensure nothing like this happened again.

But for tonight, it was his birthday and he was going to cut his cake surrounded by his family.

Fin.

#thunderbirds are go #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #myfic

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tsarisfanfiction · 5 years ago

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Pulse VI

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Gordon Tracy, Scott Tracy

Part 6 of my entry for @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday: Touch. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

This one kinda reads like it could be the end... but it isn’t. Not quite. All medical stuff in here is vaguely researched, based on my own osteology knowledge (I have a masters degree in human bones so I like to think I have some idea what I’m talking about), and also some good old-fashioned “it’s set 40 years in the future so let’s handwave and call it medical advances”. Mostly the latter.

Gordon hated hospitals. He hated the overwhelming whiteness of everything, the inescapable stench of disinfectants, the memories that stirred up whenever he was inside one for too long. But for all that he hated it, for all that his memories were fighting to get to the front of his mind, he couldn’t leave, not now.

When it had been him here, trapped in a hospital bed with an unco-operative body and uncertain future, Scott had stayed. Scott had been there through it all, determined to help him in any way possible and horrified at the mere suggestion that he leave – abandon – his brother to this whitewashed hell. Now, the roles were reversed, and no matter what was brewing in his head, Gordon would sooner be back in that bed himself than abandon his big brother.

Scott always had a presence to him. Already tall, if more Gordon’s litheness than Virgil’s tank, Scott could command a room effortlessly, and Gordon had got used to that, used to lounging in Scott’s shadow because it was nice there. Other people complained about siblings stealing the limelight, of always finding themselves second-best. Gordon got that, had felt the same way once upon a time until he realised he could find his own limelight whenever he wanted – Scott certainly hadn’t shadowed the gold medal that had pride of place in his room. He understood better now, knew that Scott would never stifle him, and with no parents the security of his biggest brother filled a hole that would have otherwise stayed open and raw.

The man laying in the hospital bed didn’t seem any bigger than Gordon himself. He was still unconscious, had been ever since they’d moved him onto a stretcher to the sound of agonised screams, but after an emergency surgery and anaesthetic no-one was overly concerned about that. He had no head injuries, a stroke of good luck amongst everything else and sleep was a good aid for healing; while he was sleeping, he wasn’t hurting – although the cannula supplying a strong dose of morphine was no doubt also helping that one.

Still, unconscious or not, Gordon insisted on holding his hand. No-one else questioned it, not that there was anyone else around too question it. Virgil and Kayo, while far better off than their eldest brother, had been confined to Tracy Island for the time being. Neither were pleased about it, but not even Kayo was brave enough to oppose Grandma when she declared that they were to stay put for now.

Gordon wasn’t stupid – he knew that not even Grandma would have been able to enforce her rules on Virgil if his older brother wasn’t convinced that Scott was still in good hands. Just because none of them spoke about his accident much didn’t mean none of them remembered it. For all his medical prowess, Virgil wasn’t the brother best suited to handling Scott once he woke up. That was Gordon, miracle Tracy, never walk again Olympic Champion. Virgil’s reluctance obedience to Grandma’s demands made it clear that he was all too aware of that.

Alan had kept himself together remarkably well up until the topic of how they were going to get everyone – and everything home. After finding Scott and Kayo, helping Scott through a panic attack, and everything else he’d faced down in the rubble of a building, it was the idea that he was best-suited to pilot Thunderbird One home that pushed him too far.

They’d ended up all piling into Thunderbird Two, with Gordon at the helm while Kayo big-sistered the tearful youngest and Virgil hovered over the motionless eldest. EOS had taken responsibility for the other two Thunderbirds on the scene, returning them straight to base as Thunderbird Two stopped off at their usual hospital – why oh why did they need a usual hospital as well as Grandma, Virgil, and their hospital-grade infirmary on Tracy Island – in New Zealand on the way home. John was down from space, although Gordon hadn’t seen or spoken to him yet. With Scott out of action, it fell to the second-eldest and, more importantly, Alan’s partner in space, to comfort the distraught teenage astronaut.

So Gordon was here alone, fidgeting lightly with Scott’s calloused fingers as he waited for his big brother to wake up. The room looked just as he remembered it – he didn’t know if it was the room, if Scott was lying in the very same bed he’d spent too many long, dark months, but it looked it. Gordon was careful not to look around too much, not to check the view out of the window to see if it was identical to what memories he had of the hospital. Many, particularly the earliest ones, had been repressed, squashed into a corner of his mind to never see the light of day again, but many was not all, and Gordon remembered enough. If he let himself think about them, there’d be another Tracy panic attack, and that was the last thing any of them needed. So he didn’t, carefully watching his eldest brother instead.

With his focus almost entirely on his brother, it was immediately obvious when Scott woke, blue eyes blinking up blearily at the (white, too white) ceiling. He should call for a nurse, hit the call button and inform them that their patient was awake, but Gordon stayed his hand and waited. This… this was personal. He already knew the diagnosis, had heard it from faceless doctors and forced himself through all the medical jargon he’d hoped to never hear again. Scott would take it better from him than some unfamiliar nurse with genuine-sounding but rehearsed lines.

Like Virgil, unhappily back on Tracy Island with a broken arm and Grandma’s soup for company, Gordon hoped Scott would trust that he knew what he was saying. That he understood. Normally, that wouldn’t be a hope, it would be fact, but in circumstances like these, nothing was for sure.

“Hey there, bro,” he said quietly, lightly squeezing Scott’s hand to get his attention when blue eyes cleared and he judged him to be aware enough of his surroundings.

“Gordon?” Those same blue eyes focused on him, and Scott frowned lightly. He didn’t ask what had happened, but that wasn’t Scott’s thing.

“The one and only,” he confirmed, a small grin forming on his face. He let it, determined not to be all doom and gloom while Scott filtered through his memories, putting the pieces of the puzzle together in the way that made him a fantastic commander to work out what had happened and why he was in a hospital. It didn’t take long, and Gordon squeezed his hand again the moment he saw his eyes widen in fear.

“My legs-” Scott started, face rapidly paling, and Gordon pulled himself closer so that he was in Scott’s line of sight.

“You’re on the good stuff,” he said firmly. “I doubt you can feel much of anything right now.”

That got Scott’s attention fixed on him, although the colour didn’t come back. With wide eyes and pale skin, he looked much younger, but Gordon refused to let that bother him. Back injuries were bad, and he knew Scott remembered much more about his own hospitalisation than he did. It didn’t take a genius to see that was compounding the already instinctive fear of losing sensation in his lower body.

He’d take a leaf out of Alan’s book and collapse on another big brother later – Virgil would no doubt be available; John would have his hands full with Alan for some time – but right now Scott needed him, and Gordon wouldn’t, couldn’t, let him down.

“I’m not as strong as you,” Scott said, and to anyone else that might be a non-sequester, but Gordon was fairly sure he could follow the jump. He was already thinking of the worst, already remembering when Gordon had got the fateful news from the doctors. Gordon wouldn’t be surprised to find out that that had been playing through his mind right from the start, maybe even had a hand in the panic attack Alan had been left to field alone.

Not if you talk like that, was on the tip of his tongue, a retort honed by years of verbal sparring with brothers, older and younger. But contrary to popular belief, Gordon did think before he spoke, and he knew without a doubt that a lightly scolding retort was the last thing Scott wanted or needed right now.

“I didn’t think I was strong enough, either,” he said instead. Scott knew that – had been the one there for most of his breakdowns, when he shouted and screamed and cursed the world, or curled up into a metaphorical ball of depression (would have done it literally, if his inability to do so hadn’t been the whole reason for it in the first place) – but right now Gordon suspected he needed a reminder. “You’re not alone, Scott. You stayed with me when it was me stuck in that bed, and I’m going to stay with you now.”

If he was hoping for a quip back – I’d hope so, too – it didn’t happen. It was too soon, the whole situation too raw, for that. But Gordon wasn’t done.

“However, I have some not so bad news for you,” he continued. He couldn’t call it good news, when there was nothing good about the whole thing, but it was far, far, better than anything he’d been told when it was him laying immobile in a bed. “You don’t get the dubious honour of nasty doctors coming in and telling you you’ll never walk again.”

“What?” Scott demanded. “But- my back? My legs?”

Gordon squeezed his hand again, sitting back in his chair to get comfortable again – or as best he could. How Scott had managed to stay in the things for so long once upon a time, Gordon didn’t know.

“Let me start from the top,” he said, once he was settled and Scott was looking at him with burning curiosity – and hope. A spark in those sky blue eyes that hadn’t been there even two minutes ago. It was a spark Gordon knew would see him through. He had faith in Scott, even if Scott didn’t have faith in himself right now. “Somehow, you didn’t break your back. At least, not completely. Your fifth lumbar vertebrae took some damage, which is going to take time and probably another surgery to heal-”

“Another?” Scott interrupted. “How many have I had?”

“Just the one, so far,” Gordon assured him. “They had to remove some of the chips that came off before they caused any more damage than you’re already dealing with. That went fine, by the way, and they were also able to confirm that your spinal cord hasn’t taken any damage, so depending on how well your vertebrae heals up there should be little to no lasting complications in the long term.”

Relief warred with confusion on Scott’s face and Gordon fell silent, sensing a question. Thankfully, Scott didn’t need further encouragement to ask the obvious thing.

“If my back’s not broken and my spinal cord is fine, why couldn’t I – can’t I – feel my legs?”

“Because your body’s response to things where they shouldn’t be is to swell up, and that swelling put pressure on your nerves,” Gordon assured him. “It’ll take a while to go back to normal because typically it’s squishing the important ones that control your legs, and longer for the nerves to repair themselves from being squished up, so you are going to be stuck in bed or in…” Gordon still hated it, still refused to have anything to do with it, although as long as he wasn’t the one using it maybe he could face it, “that thing for a while, and then there’s all the PT from the inevitable lack of use for a while, but unless something goes wrong with the surgery, you should be okay.”

Scott didn’t respond, and Gordon abandoned his uncomfortable chair in favour of perching on the edge of the bed, reaching over so that he was holding both his hands.

“Scott?” Sometimes, silence was good. Right now, silence was not good. He wanted to know Scott had heard and understood what he’d said. Needed to know.

“I’m… not paralysed?” his big brother asked slowly, shakily, as though he couldn’t quite believe it. Gordon couldn’t blame him; good news on the medical front from the outset was a rarity for the Tracys. Usually it was bad news which they promptly decided wasn’t going to win.

Privately, he shared Scott’s concern that it seemed too good to be true.

“Not as it stands,” he assured him out loud, unable to stop himself from grinning. What was the point, anyway? Even if Gordon couldn’t really qualify you’ll be bed-bound and then wheelchair-bound for a couple of months as good, it was still better than any of them had feared and expected when they’d found out Scott couldn’t feel his legs. “That doesn’t mean the next few months are going to be easy, because they won’t” – PT was its own brand of hell after extended forced bedrest – “but I’m here for you – we’re all here for you – and you’re going to get through this.”

Finally, he got a small smile from Scott.

“Shouldn’t a doctor be telling me all this?” he queried, and Gordon shrugged unapologetically.

“I’ll let them know you’re awake in a minute,” he said, leaving I thought you’d rather hear this from me unsaid.

“In that case, Nurse Gordon, please go and call a doctor,” Scott retorted, and Gordon heard the underlying gratitude loud and clear, even as he protested that he was at least a Doctor, thank you very much, to a noise that could almost have been a chuckle from his big brother.

You’re right. Thank you.

Part 7

#sensorysunday #sensorysunday2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #gordon tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #kayo kyrano #grandma tracy #eos #pulse

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bgn846 · 5 years ago

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D4 FFXV Drabble - One Shot

Featuring Gladio and Ignis. in which Ignis has a bad day at the office, punctuated by an attempt on his life by the office vending machine.

The mechanical whir of the machine broke his momentary stupor. Sighing heavily, Ignis gazed through the scratched glass panel of the vending machine, waiting for his selection to drop. It was a pathetic excuse for dinner, he knew it, but there wasn’t much else he could do. His meetings for the day had gone long, and he’d gotten behind. The only way to catch up was to work late.

Staying at the office was a trick he’d learned early on, it prevented any excuses on his part for not doing his job. The second he’d set foot in his apartment all chances of work would be lost. The need for rest would take over and he’d be screwed the next day.

Gladio and Noct would scold him for this type of behavior but he needed to make sure things were done properly. In other words, he had to do it himself. When the machine stopped making noise Ignis looked down in the collection slot and frowned. The dark plastic pit that should have held his processed food package was empty.

Daring to take a peek inside the machine where his item had been housed, showed it was stuck. Wedged firmly between its neighbors in the machine, it wasn’t going anywhere. The first thought that crossed his mind was to kick the machine. Some form of self-preservation kicked in and prevented his foot from moving. After staring for far too long, another idea came to him. Find more money and buy something else. Losing a couple bucks to the vending machine wasn’t the end of the eos.

However, after he’d torn his desk apart and fully emptied his wallet it became clear he had no more cash. This vending machine was too old to accept credit cards so he was out of luck. He did consider the notion that a different machine on another floor in the citadel might take credit. The idea of leaving to go buy terrible food was a worry. He might simply keep walking, and end up at his car in the garage, if he left the floor. Groaning out loud he pushed himself up from his desk and went to analyze the situation again.

Another indeterminate amount of time passed as he glared at the offending machine. Finally he decided on a plan. His arm was long; he might be able to reach the item if he stuck his hand in through the bottom. The fact that the machine was outdated worked to his advantage in this scheme. The door wasn’t tamper proof.

Sustenance was literally within reach, all he had to do was stretch another inch. The last inch proved the most difficult. Something about bones and tissue not stretching, despite willing them to do so, meant Ignis could only scrape the packaging with his fingernail. Yelling in frustration he forced his arm into the tiny space ignoring the pain it caused.

The movement was enough to dislodge the item and it fell gracelessly into the bin. Releasing a giddy laugh at his success, Ignis balled his fist up in a victory stance. Unfortunately he moved his arm too quickly, and subsequently smacked the metal rack that held the food in the machine. What happened next was truly terrible. Ignis didn’t know vending machines could enact revenge.

The spiraled coil of metal that held the food in place had moved during his small celebration, and hooked itself on the band of his wrist watch. Panicking slightly as it pulled his arm Ignis tried to pull back but he was stuck fast. Apparently, this machine was not happy at having been tampered with.

The discomfort he’d felt before was now amplified and he wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe he could unlatch his watch and get free. The angle he’d gotten stuck meant his other free arm was again, just out of reach. Astrals, he was going to be stuck here the whole damn night. People would come in the next day, and find him passed out. He’d probably lose his arm in the resulting rescue mission.

This wasn’t acceptable, he needed help. Shoving his pride aside at having been played by a damn vending machine, Ignis worked to fish his phone out of his pocket. The pain was getting worse and if he didn’t hurry he’d have to call the crownsguard office to send someone. That was his last resort, he other options before things got that dire.

Pulling up the last number dialed he hit send and waited. The line rang and rang but Ignis prayed he’d would pick up. Right as he was about to give up, the line connected. Gladio’s out of breath voice greeted him a second later. Thank the six, the man must have been training late, that meant he was on the grounds.

“Gl-gladio,” Ignis hissed through his pain. “Please tell me you are still at work.”

“Iggy, what’s wrong, you sound off.”

Unsure if he should describe his misfortune over the phone, Ignis opted for a brief summary instead. “I’ve had an accident in the break room on my floor, I need h--,”

Gladio didn’t even let him finish, “I’m on my way right now, are you bleeding?”

“No,” he gasped, “I’m – six, this is embarrassing,” Ignis lamented.

“Stay calm, I’m on my way. I might lose you on the elevator ride but I’m coming okay.”

“Thanks,” Ignis managed as he sat on the floor and waited. Gladio, bless the man, talked to him the whole time. The shield covered as many mundane topics as he could in the short five minute trip over to Ignis’ office. It was enough of a distraction that Ignis could block out the pain, and the disturbing fact that his arm was starting to go numb.

Gladio’s suspicions about losing the connection while in the elevator were true, and Ignis was forced to breathe deeply in an effort to calm his nerves. When the elevator just outside the break room, dinged, signaling his arrival. Ignis nearly cried for joy. Leaning his now, sweat covered brow, against the glass Ignis called out to Gladio. “I’m in here!”

Gladio’s panic stricken face appeared a second later. “What the hell happened?” He asked as he took in the sight before him.

“The machine is trying to kill me,” Ignis spit out. “My watch band--,” he wavered as a new wave of painful sensations flared in his arm.

Gladio had rushed over and was already sitting on the floor next to him. “Shit, uh, I’ll get you free, give me a second.” He announced while shoving his muscled, tattooed arm in through the bottom. Gladio thankfully was at the right angle to reach his abused appendage. The shield made quick work of undoing his watch band. The second he could feel his arm move freely, Ignis ripped it out of the machine. Hissing in pain he cradled his arm to his chest.

Maybe he’d pulled a muscle with this ridiculous stunt, he wasn’t sure yet. The faint, but familiar pull of magic, in the back of his mind, drew Ignis’ gaze over to Gladio. “What are you doing?” he asked in shock.

“You’re hurt, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Gladio huffed as he took Ignis’ good hand, and forcefully crushed a potion bottle in it.

Relief from the pain was instant. He wanted to chide Gladio for wasting a potion on him, but his mind was currently too distracted to let him. A hand on his shoulder made Ignis snap out of his daze. “Huh? Were you talking to me?” he asked weakly. Gladio’s expression was a mix of concern and anger when Ignis looked up. Oh dear, had he interrupted something important? Perhaps he should have called someone else instead. “Sorry for troubling you so late, I didn’t mean to ruin y--.”

“Nope, not gonna work,” Gladio interrupted. “Nothing to be sorry about, you are always welcome to call me for help. Seeing you in pain like that was hard,” he sighed. “Promise me you’ll always ask me for help when you need it?”

Caught off guard by the sincerity of the comment, Ignis took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. “Yes, of course I’ll always call you. Sorry I’m tired and this hasn’t helped my cause.”

“You look exhausted Iggy, why are you still at work?”

“I had things to finish up,” he offered.

“I’m sure none of the things are an emergency, right?”

Pursing his lips, Ignis glared at Gladio. Leave it to the man to pick apart his reason for being at the office late. “I still should finish up before I head home.”

“Sure, if you say so. Let’s go back to your office and you can tell me what the hell happened.”

Humming in agreement Ignis worked to get up off cold linoleum floor. Once he was upright the room began spinning. Gladio was by his side once again, with a strong arm around his waist. “Oh dear,” Ignis muttered more out of irritation than anything else.

“When was the last time you ate?” Gladio asked with a raised eyebrow.

Laughing nervously Ignis tried to turn around and reach for the discarded item in the vending machine. “That was supposed to be dinner,” he joked, though the mood wasn’t quite right for it.

“Please don’t fight me on this,” Gladio begged. “I know you’re not a stupid person Iggy, but you are done for the day, okay.”

“Really?” he tried, “no more?” Deep down Ignis knew Gladio was right but he still had so much work to do. “How will I catch up tomorrow?” he asked dejectedly.

“That is a whole other issue that needs addressing. Why don’t we go back to your office and pack things up for the night and go home.”

Nodding in defeat Ignis let Gladio lead him back down the hall. He felt slightly better and things had stopped spinning, but Gladio still had an arm around his waist. Only when they’d reached his office did the shield relinquish his hold. Carefully gathering his items while Gladio patiently waited, gave Ignis time to think of all the work he really was doing. Maybe Noct and Gladio were right, perhaps he needed to take it easy.

When they were ready to leave Gladio once again pulled him close and they walked out of the building together. Before he could break the somewhat comfortable silence that had developed, Gladio spoke up.

“No arguments, this is what’s gonna happen,” Gladio huffed. “First, I’m driving you home. Second, we’re ordering delivery so you don’t have to cook. Third, you’re taking the day off tomorrow; call it a mental health day.”

Ignis could feel Gladio’s body stiffen once he’d finished talking. Clearly the man thought Ignis was going to fight him on what he’d said. However, all of what had been listed sounded perfect. Not driving, eating something warm that didn’t come from a metal and plastic box, and taking some time to recoup lost energy was a wonderful idea.

“You don’t mind driving me?” he checked with a small smile.

“Huh?” Gladio’s eyes were wide in disbelief as he processed what Ignis had said. “Seriously, you’re not gonna fight me on this?”

“No, you’re right. I know you and Noct are always berating me for working too hard. It appears I need some help with that endeavor,” Ignis admitted sheepishly.

“So I can drive you, and order you food, and you’ll stay home tomorrow?” Gladio checked with an ear splitting grin.

Ignis nodded and offered Gladio a smile of his own. He wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Gladio actually whooped in the parking garage, and gathered up him in a bone crushing hug.

“You won’t regret this Iggy, I’m gonna text Noct later and we’ll figure out a way to help you with your work load. You’re doing the job of like three other people right now and you don’t need to, it’s not fair.”

“Yes, I’ve been made aware,” Ignis chuckled wryly.

“Come on, times a wasting,” Gladio enthused as he herded Ignis over to the passenger side. “Do you mind if I shower at your place while we wait for food to be delivered.”

“Not at all, though you might have to wake me up when it arrives.”

“Easy, I can so do that.” Gladio announced.

The ride back to his apartment was quiet and calming. The remainder of the evening was spent falling asleep on the couch in between activities. Dinner was amazing, and so much better than the protein bar he’d been trying to excavate from the vending machine. Gladio ended up staying the whole night. Something about Ignis attempting to work meant he had to keep an eye on him. For the first time he didn’t mind the attention. His friends were trying to help and there was nothing wrong with that. Besides, he owed Gladio the full story of how the vending machine tried to eat his arm.

#ffxv #gladio #gladiolus x ignis #ffxv fanfiction #hurtcomfort

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tb5-heavenward · 5 years ago

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You just know I'm going to ask about Covenant now, right?

well since you two are two of the only people who know about covenant (and i’m sorry bud, your editorial sensibilities are going to have to put up with my stylistic lower caps) and since I’ve finally watched that shitshow of a most recent episode, I am totally down to talk about covenant.

but first let’s talk a little bit about TAG

TAG is terrible.

Visually the show is gorgeous. It has improved by leaps and bounds and it was charming when it started and it is awesome now. WETA are absolutely the bedrock of what makes this show worth watching, and I love the visuals more and more as they continue to push those boundaries. The cinnamontography, etc.

The Thunderbirds are amazing. They are beautiful, intricate, wonderfully clever machines. Their pilots ain’t half bad either. If you know and truly love the show and think about them all as well and deeply as they deserve, I think it’s impossible to honestly pick a favourite. International Rescue is a fantastic premise. The Tracys and their associates are all strong, compelling characters who have been iterated into an updated retro-future and made universally deeper and more interesting.

The bread and butter conceit of the show is awesome, the tension and conflict and creativity around solving complex problems that they manage to demonstrate in the course of a twenty-two minute episode sometimes just boggles the mind. When IR gets put up against the forces of nature and straight bad luck and pure, audacious dumbassery, we have gotten some of the best moments this show has to offer.

And those first season episodes were ugly as shit and everybody sounded the same and there were maybe three spare models between the entire NPC cast, but my GOD did S1 ever have heart. The soul of the show belongs to S1 and no one will change my mind about that. Try it. EOS was incredible. Skyhook was the definition of a balanced ensemble episode. Fireflash. Tunnels of Time. Relic. Recharge. Extraction. S2 came back swinging out of the gate with Ghost Ship. Up from the Depths was an absolute masterclass and actually changed the stakes in the show for the first time. Bolt from the Blue. Power Play. Hyperspeed. We all know which episodes were fucking good as hell. S3 comes out and the visuals have improved yet further. They have firmly found their feet as animators and as actors and as characters. We are finally actually starting to learn about these boys and their father, the most glaringly obvious hole in the show at large. Night and Day. Life Signs. And then SOS 1/2 and a complete and total paradigm shift. There is a sense of mortality to TAG now and it is an edge of realism that SHOULD be able to elevate it beyond what it’s been so far.

And yet.

TAG is fucking terrible.

Five years on, I am entitled to say, TAG is absolutely the goddamn worst sometimes, holy fucking shit. And what makes that terribleness terrible in and of itself—is that it’s because this show fails to recognize its most fundamental strengths. It fails to know what its audience will really connect to. And it’s because the writers’ room must be the goddamn wild west at this point, with the sort of nonsense these fucks are throwing at the wall and hoping to see it stick. It’s because whoever is in charge of the overall narrative arc of these seventy-odd episodes has not done what’s necessary to ensure TAG’s cohesion as a unified work.

(y’all hang onto your butts, i’m gonna do another brick wall metaphor.)

So what we have, five years on and seventy-odd episodes later, is a heap of bricks that WANT to be a wall, and we’re led to the impression that they’re SUPPOSED to be a wall, but they haven’t been put together by any single person. They have been put together by a rotating cast of a few dozen people who orient the bricks they’re given in slightly different ways sometimes, or who lay them at odd angles or who brought their own bricks from home for some reason. David Tennant is there. He must have cost at least half the budget for all of S2. All in all, he’s just another brick in the wall.

We know by this point that there is some asshole vaguely in charge of the idea of the wall. You can kind of tell that he’s at least heard of walls and he would definitely like to build one, but he isn’t exactly making it happen. There is an edifice here. It is wall-like, in some regions. At the end of the day though, most people who come across it also step over it, no problem. Or they chisel out the bricks that look to be worth saving and kick the rest of the wall over. That’s just fandom. That’s what fandom does.

Now, it is necessary at any point when talking about children’s media to talk about another series that ran three seasons over sixty-one episodes, and covered a level of geopolitical conflict over the course of a single year from the perspective of five incredibly gifted young people, all of whom were complex and flawed and sympathetic, and who knew they were responsible with putting the world to right with their own hands and set about doing that in the face of incredible odds, against villains who were no less than ruthlessly sociopathic.

ATLA sets a high bar. TAG was never going to be ATLA.

But fuck, I wish it had tried.

I wish the people who had set out to remake this story had sat down together and said, “Over the course of the next three seasons, we will tell the story of what International Rescue is. We will explain how it came to be. We will have strong themes that persist through the show and repeat themselves for emphasis: One Problem At A Time, You Can’t Save Everyone, Someone Has To Try. We will explain who these boys are and how they came to be this way. We will make it deeply and obviously clear what they do, how they do it, and why. We will give them limits. We will let them fail. We will give them flaws, we will let them clash with each other. We will let them grow and change. We will give them one deep, powerful loss that is the bedrock of what they became. We will put a powerful force in the world that loathes and opposes them at all costs. We will give them a tiny fragment of hope to chase and chase and chase and let them catch it only at the moment when they’v’e finally learned that they can let it go.”

I wish there had been rules. I wish there hadn’t been a new villain crammed into every season, in a show where the villains are objectively the weakest part. To add four villains to a show that barely has room for one and then to expect to make them ALL have a sympathetic edge somehow—it’s absolute fucking idiocy. I don’t care that The Hood is Kayo’s Uncle and Smiled In a Picture One Time. I don’t care that The Mechanic Is Apparently Being Mind Controlled Though No Indication Of That Was Given At Any Point in His History Until We Were Told So Explicitly. I don’t fucking CARE that Havoc Gets Yelled At By Her Boss Who Is Mean. I don’t give a shit that Fuse Is Apparently Too Stupid To Have Recognized The Moral Component Of Any Of His Criminal Acts Up Until He Inflicts Them On The Tracys.

You know which villains are objectively incredible in this show? Langstrom Fischler. Professor Harold. Francois Lemaire. Ned Fucking Tedford, who is a villain on the grounds that he is an obstacle, a problem to be solved, a concept of a person so hapless that they have multiple times strayed in the most incredible kind of peril. The strongest villains in this show are the ones who are just PEOPLE. People who are being careless. Or who are being greedy. Or who are being self-aggrandizing. People who exhibit traits equal and opposite to what our boys in blue exemplify.

I don’t know. We’re coming to the end of S3, we’re nearing their grand, incredible climax, this promised moment of potential reunion—and I wish I cared. I really wish I could. But there’s so much clutter. There’s so much their pulling DIRECTLY out of their asses in the home stretch. There are so many loose threads, there are so many concepts that were introduced and then never explored, or which were introduced in the end game and then never reinforced. There is so much information that we should have had from the start, so many mysteries that went unsolved and uncared about because they were unmentioned. There is not enough room for them to resolve anything in a meanignful way. There it so much that it seems like THEY didn’t know, and they SHOULD HAVE. They had time. Five fucking years, they had so much time to figure this out. And yet.

anyway.

So, covenant. Covenant basically a codeword for what I would’ve done differently, the last time I got mad about this whole endemic problem with the writing in this show, round about two years ago now.

Covenant is just a good word, really, and while it means something as a title, that relevance has kind of degraded a bit. It was going to be a rewrite of the end of Season 2, and sort of a retrofitting of Season 2 as a whole. It was going to explore the ideas that they put down and then never picked up, it was going to seriously address a lot of the core conflicts in the show and set things in motion to resolve those problems. I have it started. I have a good couple thousand words of the beginning, but it’s a good enough beginning that it could potentially begin something else, and so I won’t publish it here, in case I end up using it somewhere else. As is, it’s a priveleged-eyes-only sort of work, it’s only really been passed around my inner circle. If anyone is interested in hearing more about that, hit me up and I’ll elabourate. But for now, it is quarter past eleven, and I have ranted for long enough.

#TAG meta #negative #i mean if it's not apparent from the way I lead above the cut #admittedly I am being a clickbaity little shit #haters to the left tho please #to view media uncritically is to be a dumbass #don't @ me #scribeofred

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

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Reactions (Bit 17)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3a | Bit 3b | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6a | Bit 6b | Bit 6c | Bit 7 | Bit 8a | Bit 8b | Bit 9 | Bit 10 | Bit 11a | Bit 11b | Bit 12a | Bit 12b | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15a | Bit 15b | Bit 16 | Bit 17

Now we’re getting somewhere :D

For @soniabigcheese for Fandomversary with Gordon and Bedlam.

-o-o-o-

“It’s a trap.”

Gordon was glaring at John’s hologram hanging in the middle of the comms room. All four brothers were arrayed around the holographic diagram of a giant aircraft launch platform. The massive ship hovered in midair somewhere over the Atlantic offering a take off and landing option along with facilities for an audience.

Unfortunately, at some point the landing option had become a crash option and the whole platform was canted at a horrible angle that needed no engineering skills to know was bad.

Very, very bad.

John’s tone was more on edge than usual, but this was a rescue situation, so he was professional. “Gordon, there are a thousand people on that platform, including the entirety of the World Security Council.”

Gordon froze. “Penelope’s father is on that thing?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Scott spoke up as Gordon’s expression froze in shock. “What about escape pods.”

“Not functional.”

Virgil frowned. “What do you mean ‘not functional’?”

“It appears they have been disabled.”

Virgil stared at his space brother. “Why?”

John sighed. “The platform was set up for a series of rescue simulations for the launch of the new ‘World Rescue’ initiative. My guess is that they didn’t want anyone panicking and jumping ship mid-display.”

It was Virgil’s turn to be gobsmacked. How could people be so stupid. “Can we re-enable them?”

John’s fingers darted over unseen controls. “Eos is working on it, but the crash caused electrical havoc and several systems have been irreparably damaged.”

“I agree with Gordon. It has to be a trap.” Alan sat in his hover chair glaring at everything.

Scott sighed. “John, has our help been requested?”

“If you count individuals, I have received five hundred and forty-two calls for International Rescue from persons aboard the stricken craft in the last five minutes.

“Anything from official channels?”

“Not a blip.”

It was strange. Had this been a rescue prior to the last week, they would already be airborne. As it was, they were all staring at Scott as he stood there frowning and assessing the risk.

It only took a moment before Scott’s head came up. “Request permission.”

“FAB.” John didn’t even blink.

The next few moments were some of the longest ever.

But John’s expression told them all they needed to know before he opened his mouth. “Permission denied.”

“What?!” Gordon glared up at his brother even more. “There are a thousand people in danger!”

“Their answer was ‘World Rescue has the situation under control. Your assistance is not required’.”

Virgil stared at the image of the launch platform. One of its massive hoverjets had been disabled when the aircraft had collided with the landing strip.The whole platform was teetering at an angle that was seriously degrading the effectiveness of the remaining three hoverjets. A few more degrees and the entire ship would fall out of the sky. Physics tolerated only so much abuse.

Virgil’s mind supplied the strategy he would take to stabilise the craft, calculations of mass and thrust, how many airjacks he would need to support all that weight. It would be fairly simple to correct that tilt long enough and strong enough for evac craft to land and get everyone off.

But instead of launching and executing that plan, he was standing here watching a GDF flyer attempting to make a landing beside the crashed plane on the damaged airstrip.

“No!” It was out of his mouth without thinking, his hand held up as if he could grab the hologram and stop the idiots from doing the ultimately stupid.

But he couldn’t. Instead he got to watch as the platform tilted even further, the three remaining hoverjets desperately trying to compensate causing a structural twist in the landing strip’s frame it was not designed to take.

Virgil’s engineering brain supplied the very moment it would snap and it did.

He sucked in a breath as the damaged strip broke and folded almost ninety degrees with the force of gravity, the platform’s whole frame shuddering as it collided with the superstructure.

The GDF flyer flipped and a wing caught in the warped framework. Fortunately. It was the only thing preventing the craft from plummeting to the ground.

The crashed plane shifted, but appeared fused to the platform and didn’t fall either.

A single flailing figure did.

“What the hell were they thinking?” It was a breath exhaled by Scott, his blue eyes staring at the hologram in horror.

“I say we launch.” Virgil made the decision without hesitation.

Those blue eyes latched onto him. “Virgil? It has all the signs of a set up.”

“There’s a thousand people in danger.” He flung a hand at the hologram. “They need our help.”

“We’d be breaking a direct order.”

“It was a stupid ass order.” Gordon glared at Scott.

The commander looked up at his space brother. “Any change?”

“None official, however I have received another three hundred and thirty-two calls for help, and counting. This appears genuine.”

“Why are we waiting?” Virgil was on edge. “We need to get out there.”

“And I need to make sure I’m making the right decision for all of us.”

“People are in danger. There is no question.”

“Virgil...” But he could see his brother’s dilemma. It was a thousand people versus his family. Because yes, by defying the GDF, this could end everything they had worked for. IR could be shut down. Hell, they could all go to prison.

“If we don’t respond, we will be betraying ourselves.” Virgil eyed the platform as it teetered. “We need to get out there. They need us. We can’t stand by and let those people die.”

Not again.

A fire flickered in his brother’s eyes.

“Scott-“

The commander held up his hand. “Are we all in agreement? Are you aware of the risks?”

Five nods.

Blue eyes lit up with flame.

“Okay then...Thunderbirds are go.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s feet hit the deck plates of Two with a reassuring thud. He shoved the overhead hatch closed and revelled in the use of muscles deprived of real work over the last few days.

Slipping into his pilot’s seat gave him such a rush of ‘rightness’ he almost sighed. Behind him, Gordon surfaced through the bottom hatch, no doubt fiddling with his uniform like he always did.

“Alan’s angry.”

Virgil ran through pre-flight with ease, his mental check list ticking of items automatically as his bird began her spin and the great door opened to let the sunlight in.

God, this just felt right! This is where he was supposed to be.

He engaged her warm up sequence as Gordon slipped into his co-pilot’s seat and Virgil found himself obliged to answer. “I don’t blame him. This is an important rescue.” Two’s engines hummed up to readiness and he began her taxi out.

“Do you think it is a trap?”

His bones sung with her thrum. A flick of his wrist and the palm trees on the runway gave way.

The sun was bright this morning.

“I don’t know, Gordon. All I know is that people are in danger. That is where we step in.”

“But what if we step into shit?”

Two slid onto her launch platform and he engaged the hydraulics that lifted her nose towards the sky. He sighed. “Then we go into hell knowing we are doing it for the right reasons.”

Gordon turned away and looked up through the front windows into the blue.

Virgil engaged Two’s rear thrusters and his ‘bird roared into the sky.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #nuttys fandomversary

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willow-salix · 5 years ago

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Random bit of fun that popped into my head. Grandma Tracy + Selene + cooking sherry =

Selene checked the recipe again and nodded to Grandma. It couldn't be that hard could it, to be all domesticated and shit? She had many manly men that she had to cook for, not that she went in for all the "a woman's place is in the kitchen" stereotypes, but she did think it was important that they came home to something better than their Grandmother's cooking attempts after a tough rescue, and this one looked like it would be a nightmare mission.

She could cook most things, basic and homely she called it, having learnt baking from her Nan, although she did like to challenge herself now and then.

She had decided in her infinite wisdom that if she was capable of making simple dishes like lasagna, chilli's, soups, burgers, pizza's pancakes, breakfasts and the like, coupled with the fact that she was actually good at baking, she could manage to help Grandma in her mission. It shouldn't be that hard to make their boys some lovely fresh donuts, something they all loved. Yep, that was a plan!

Grandma Tracy had wandered back and forth while Selene was assembling the ingredients, flour, salt, yeast, eggs, milk and melted butter and insisted on helping, trying to add her own selections to the mix which Selene gently vetoed, hiding them in the microwave. It would be fine, with her overseeing the proceedings Grandma couldn't get into too much trouble, could she?

Selene directed Grandma as they slowly added the wet ingredients into a big mixing bowl, one at a time until they made a relatively smooth mixture, then Grandma added that little by little to the flour, Selene mixing with her hands until they had a rough dough.

She dribbled some oil onto the worktop, dumped out the bowl and began to knead the slop, gradually feeling it grow thicker and less gloopy, more springy. Damn this was hard work!

"Let me have a try, you youngsters don't know the meaning of hard work."

Selene stepped aside to let Grandma T take her turn, but within a minute the older lady was huffing as bad as Selene was.

They tag teamed back and forth for a few minutes but her fingers were cramping and she was sure that she had inhaled so much flour she'd be sneezing bread rolls. She went to wipe her forehead but her hands were so greasy with the oil she gave in. She didn't want to resort to cheating, but needs must.

She whispered a little chant under her breath when Grandma made her excuses to go to the bathroom and watched as the dough kneaded itself, plumping up and down and flipping itself over as she washed her hands and settled down with a can of cherry coke. The dough flopped itself back into its bowl after a few more minutes and she covered it over and placed it on the windowsill to rise for an hour.

And she promptly forgot about it, wandering off with Grandma to catch up on "The bold and the beautiful" a TV show that Grandma watched religiously and that had become Selene's guilty pleasure whenever she was on the island.

Upon returning to the kitchen after learning that Chico was Marion's secret son and that Charlie's amnesia was fake, they found the bowl overflowing and the dough creeping its way towards the floor.

"Stupid magic kneading!" Selene dived at the dough, nudging Armstrong out for the way just as he tried to bat at it with his paw. "No! Bad cat. Leave it!"

She cradled it in her arms like it was a baby, a big, messy, yeasty baby that was determined to get the fuck out of dodge. She balanced on one leg as she tried to hold it up with her knee, kneeing it like she was playing keepy uppy with a football.

"Grandma, get a bowl! A big one!" She gave it a big push upwards as Grandma shoved a huge bowl under it, catching the evil, still growing blob.

"What's wrong with it?" Grandma asked as she poked at it with her finger, diving back when it looked like it would consume her whole hand.

"Nothings wrong with it, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Against her better judgement, and Selene wasn't known to be entirely sane at the best of times, she grabbed the biggest saucepan they had and filled it with oil, setting it on the stove to boil. Should only take a few minutes....

She watched as the oil began to bubble and smoke, knowing it was about as hot as it would get. Witches didn't like boiling oil, call her silly but that had always been something to avoid in the olden days, which was probably why she had taken the few minutes to kit herself out in a huge apron, Scott's spare bike helmet and a pair of Virgil's thick work gloves. Couldn't be too careful.

She dug her hands into the dough, hitting it with her elbow when it looked like it might try to be the one to eat her before they cooked it. "No! Down! Bad dough!"

She was sure it would be fine once it was cooked, witches made everything a bit more lively, the boys could attest to that.

"Watch out Grandma, don't get too close."

She scooped out a handful and rolled it into a ball then holding it at arm's length, dropped it in the oil like it was a hand grenade. Boom, the oil jumped up to meet her and she stepped back with a squeak of shock. Not good. Nope nope so much nope. Not doing that again.

"Oh don't worry, it always does that when I cook too," Grandma shrugged as she crossed to the fridge to get herself a drink. "Keep going, it'll be fine."

After rolling another ball, which she caught before it rolled off the counter and across the floor yelling 'cry freedom', she sourced a pair of BBQ tongs to hold it with and dropped it carefully in the oil.

"That seemed to work," Grandma encouraged. "Keep doing that."

Ball after ball followed and her roll, grab and drop operation was going so well she completely forgot that the oil was actually cooking the damn things.

"Uh…little too brown maybe…" she fished them out and dumped them into a bowl lined with kitchen towel. She poked them, were they OK?

"They'll be fine with some powdered sugar on them," Grandma proclaimed wisely, although Selene wasn't too sure. "Do the rest, that's nowhere near enough to feed my boys."

Grandma supervised as Selene slowly worked her way through the dough mass, which seemed to have lost its determination now she had effectively scooped half of it away, though it was still making a strange wheezing noise as it attempted to grow some more. She'd soon put a stop to that! She quickly rolled and tossed more balls into the oil, having perfected her drop and duck technique. Paranoid that she'd burn the next lot she got them out earlier...Perhaps a little too early, as they stuck to her tongs as she slapped them into the bowl.

"Damn it."

"Jelly will fix them, " Grandma nodded sagely, "Jelly fixes everything."

Selene threw the last of the balls, now looking slightly less ball like and more like lumps of dough that she was too fucked off with to fix, and began to search the cupboards for something to insert the jam inside the balls.

She located a turkey baster that Parker had insisted they needed to cook a decent Christmas dinner, and that Alan had secretly been using to squirt the Gordon with. Selene had filled it with whisky that one time and used it to fire at Scott from opposite ends of the couch in an attempt to reach each others mouths. She grinned at the memory.

As if reading her mind- maybe she was a witch too- Grandma vanished and reappeared with half a bottle of cooking sherry.

"Would you like a little taste? I find it helps me relax sometimes when I'm cooking, you're too tense."

Well, that might explain a few of Grandma's more adventurous dishes.

Selene looked at the bottle, she could actually do with a little of that right now. She held out her coke can and Grandma poured a healthy splash into the remains of her coke.

"Don't tell John," Selene warned as she gulped down some of the drink for strength as she faced the fried dough balls she was supposed to fix.

She grabbed a pot of smooth jam out of the cupboard and sucked some up into the baster -not that easy to do it turned out- and holding one of the cooked balls she stabbed it with the end of the rubber syringe. It went right through.

"Shit!"

She tried again, splitting another one.

"Fuck!"

"Language, Selene!"

"Sorry, Grandma."

"Let me try," Sally managed to get the tip in one and squirted a generous amount into the donut. But didn't count on the force of her squeezing making the donut shoot off the end and fly across the room to smack Armie in the eye.

"Fuck!"

"Grandma!" Selene was shocked, but had the terrible urge to giggle.

Sorry," Grandma apologised, both to Selene and the cat, trying again.

***

The bowl was a jammy, powdered sugar covered, slightly oily mess and Selene was on her third can of sherry and coke and honestly, she no longer really gave a shit.

Who's stupid idea had this been? It was the thought that counted right?

Grandma had given up over an hour ago and gone to bed, knowing the boys would be heading home soon and Selene desperately needed a shower. She had jam in her hair, sugar sticking to her hands and she'd lost the will to live.

She plonked the bowl in the middle of the kitchen counter.

"Sexy spaceman of mine," she texted, "sorry they look like shit…yeah, can't really explain what happened there…but I'll be naked in bed if that helps." She snapped a picture to go with it and called it good, promising to clean up in the morning.

And she wound her way on slightly unsteady feet, up the stairs and into the bathroom to shower off the remains of her one and only attempt to cook something you could buy easier, promising herself a trip to Krispy Kreme in the very near future, and flopped on the bed wrapped in nothing but a towel.

***

"John?" Gordon stared at the text that had popped up on all their comms less than 30 seconds ago.

"I don't even know."

Their brother's long suffering, defeated tone just made the whole thing even funnier.

"Think you had better get down here, bro," Virgil chuckled. "We'll be home in five."

"Yeah, that's probably wise," Scott added.

Even EOS seemed to find the whole situation amusing, which in itself was a little bit worrying, as John rode the elevator down to the island.

Alan and Gordon were staring at the bowl as if it might explode any minute. John spotted the empty sherry bottle in the sink and sighed.

"Grandma got the sherry out."

"That's not good," Scott agreed as he too entered the war zone, formerly known as the kitchen, his eyes taking in the precariously piled bowls, the flour that coated every surface, the oil patch that Alan almost slipped in and the grease splattered stove top, the pan of oil sitting abandoned. His bike helmet was on one of the stools and one of Virgil's gloves peeked out from the bottom bowl of the stack, though it was so covered in dough you could barely tell what it was.

Virgil brought up the rear, his nose wrinkling at the slightly smokey, oily smell that hung in the air.

"Dare you to eat one," Gordon nudged Alan.

"Hell no! John should, it's his girlfriend that made them."

"Fiancée," John automatically corrected, poking gingerly at the contents of the bowl. "And no, I don't think so."

"Scott, you're the brave one, you like to take a risk now and then, you do it."

"Like the rescue wasn't risky enough? No way. Virg, you try, it's like modern art, appreciate it."

"Nope, I like my taste buds where they are, Gordo, you do it, it was your idea."

Gordon paled as he looked into the bowl. "All of us?" he asked hopefully.

The boys exchanged glances and then one by one they all reached into the bowl, their competitive streak unable to resist, selecting the least offensive looking offerings.

"On three?" Scott confirmed. "One…two…three!"

As one they all tossed their donuts into their mouths, chewing madly, their faces contorting into identical grimaces of horror and disgust.

Alan raced to the trash can, opening his mouth to let the offending evil drop out of his mouth.

"Urghh, it was raw inside," he shuddered.

Gordon followed suit, spitting his out. "Mines burnt."

Virgil managed to swallow his. "Mine was all sugar which pretty much hid everything."

Scott had a dribble of jelly running down his chin to drip onto his uniform, his mouth hanging open as if he didn't dare close it again. Virgil handed him a paper towel and he grateful spat out the offensive food.

"My God, that was foul."

They all looked at John, who was still chewing his dough ball, now matter how much he worked it, it never got any smaller. In the end he too gave up and spat it into the trash. "It was like trying to eat a rubber ball."

Virgil tossed the remains into the trash to spare Kayo and Brains the same horror. "At least they tried."

Too tired to actually be bothered with real food, Scott handed round some bowls and Virgil grabbed a box of cereal and some milk.

They all ate quickly, eating in companionable silence, standing up, leaning against various cupboards and furniture, knowing if they sat down they would likely never get up again.

"Damn!" John moved suddenly, breaking the silence of the room, dumping his half eaten cereal in the sink.

"What's wrong?" Scott frowned, instantly worried.

"I just remembered the rest of her message," he was already running towards the stairs, "I've got a naked woman waiting for me."

Alan shuddered, gagging on his mouthful of cereal. "I did not need to know that."

#thunderbirds are go #No idea how this happened #Lets blame Grandma #john tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #alan tracy #gordon tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015 #fanfic #fan fiction #fandom #fan fic update #funny post #funny writing #funny

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angelkitty54 · 5 years ago

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I just watch that clip “Into The Unknown” from Frozen 2 and am having so many ideas... (Also this is a really great song, and it’s probably gonna get stuck in my head...)

Soooo... an(other) AU wherein Luna is sorta like Elsa, born with magic powers that nobody understands and has come to fear them. Lets say that she eventually got her powers under control and has come to be accepted by her people as their Oracle and Healer. She and her brother have already had their little adventure, and are ready to settle into happily ever after...

Except, lately Luna has been hearing this voice. Well not a voice exactly, but she can feel something calling out to her, urging her to follow it to it’s source. And as her powers grow stronger, this strange siren call grows louder and harder to ignore...

Meanwhile, far across the sea in the now defunct Kingdom of Lucis...

Lucis was a kingdom of magic, but long ago something happened that ended with the capital Insomnia becoming cut off from the world, hidden behind a strange wall of mist. And with the capital and with it the Crystal (wihch is said to be the source of all magic on Eos) gone magic seemed to disappear from the world...

In Insomnia itself, magic still exists, but over the generations their power has begun waning. Until Noctis is born. Noctis has power beyond anything seen since the great Kings and Queens of yore. It’s too bad hardly anyone remembers how to wield such power. Regis is very concerned for his son, that kind of power could consume Noctis entirely. Not to mention there’s no telling what kind of fate the gods must have in store for him...

Soon enough, Noctis also starts hearing a strange voice calling out to him. He’s been warned against listening to strange voices no on else can hear... but he can’t help himself. It call to him, pleading him to follow. Where or why? He doesn’t know, all he knows is that whatever this is, it lies beyond the Wall.

One day the call is so strong that neither can ignore it, and in trying to reach out to it, Luna inadvertently sets off a chain reaction and awakens the Glacian from her slumber, while Noct finds himself standing before the Crystal having also set off a chain reaction and nearly brings the Citadel crashing down in on itself.

Luna, not knowing what to do to after unleashing Shiva unto the unsuspecting world, but desperate to set things right, sets off on a new journey. Guided by the mysterious Gentiana (heh) she makes for Lucis, hoping that there she will find the answers shes been seeking her whole life.

Noct knows there’s something out there beyond the Wall and he needs to go. He needs to find out what ever this thing that’s calling truly is. He needs to finds out more about this power he possesses. His father forbids it, no one can venture beyond the wall anyway, it’s impossible.

Noct sneaks out anyway, accompanied by his friends, who are definitely not letting him go off to do something potentially stupid and/or dangerous on his own! Seeing is believing, and when the Mist (which have blocked them off for generations) parts for Noctis, well Ignis, Gladio and Prompto can’t help but accept that maybe he might be on to something here...

As Luna and Noctis’s paths lead them closer to one another, the call gets stronger and stronger. Except, now it’s begining to sound like an actual voice. Now it’s also accompanied by vivid dreams, sometimes even visions while they’re awake. And as it grows stronger and clearer, they make an incredible discovery.

It’s not just some strange siren call of magic... There’s a person behind it!

Noct: “A girl?” Luna: “A boy?”

Neither understand it. But they’re desperate to meet. To find out why they’ve been calling out to each other. Why this is happening. “Who are you?” and “Are you real?” are some of the biggest questions on their minds...

...

This kinda like a script for an animatic tha I have in my head right now and would really like to make, maybe, one day... I really wish I new how to properly edit music or at least get my hands on “Into The Unknown” but sung as a duet between a girl and boy... (Probably would be easier to visual if you listen to the song while reading this, but it’s hard to explain this kind of thing with words...)

Anyway... So picture Noct and Luna being woken up by a mysterious voice. Throughout the scene it appears as though they’re talking to one another, sometimes looking directly at the other, but at any given moment, only one of them ever appears on screen. It seamlessly shifts from one to the other, for instance: having Luna sing her part then as she turn it shifts to Noctis, hundreds of miles away, singing his part as if in answer, and then as he passes through a doorway (or something) we’re back to Luna...

...

Ah ah oh oh oh Ah ah oh oh oh oh oh oh Luna: I can hear you but I won't. Some look for trouble while others don't Noctis: There's a thousand reasons I should go about my day. And ignore your whispers which I wish would go away, oh oh oh

Ah ah oh oh

Luna: Oh oh

Ah ah oh oh Noctis: You're not a voice You're just a ringing in my ear Luna: And if I heard you, which I don't I'm spoken for I fear Noctis: Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls I'm sorry, secret siren, but I'm blocking out your calls Luna: I've had my adventure, I don't need something new I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you Noctis: Into the unknown Luna: Into the unknown Both: Into the unknown!

Ah ah oh oh Ah ah oh oh oh oh Noctis: What do you want? 'Cause you've been keeping me awake Luna: Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?

(Picture Noctis looking out a window, placing his hand on the glass...) Noctis: Or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me? (The reflection changes into Luna, and our perspective is flipped, now outside a window looking in) Luna: Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be? Luna: Every day's a little harder as I feel my power grow Noctis: Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go… Noctis: Into the unknown? Luna: Into the unknown Both: Into the unknown!

Ah ah oh oh Ah ah oh oh (Magic swirls around them, and every time is moves in front of the camera we switch back and forth between the pair.) Noctis: Oh, oh oh, Are you out there? Luna: Do you know me? Noctis: Can you feel me? Luna: Can you show me?

(As magic continues swirling, they’re looking directly at the empty space where the other would be, moving together, and begin reaching out for the other) Luna: Ah ah oh oh Noctis: Ah ah oh oh Luna: Ah ah oh oh Noctis: Ah ah oh oh Both: Oh oh oh oh Oh oh oh oh Oh oh oh oh Oh oh oh oh (They take off running, both appear to be chasing after something unseen, implied to be each other, as trees/pillars pass in front of the camera we switch from Noct to Luna) Noctis: Where are you going? Luna: Don't leave me alone! Both: How do I follow you... Into the unknown? (These last few lines begin with Luna standing at the edge of a cliff, looking out over Tenenbrae, the full moon above her and her magic shining all around her. Then ends with Noct in the same position but in the throne room in Insomnia, with the crystal shining above him instead of the moon.)

#lunoct #noctis x luna #noctis lucis caelum #lunafreya nox fleuret #sort of a Frozen AU #I guess?#ffxv

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thelittlescrimshaw · 6 years ago

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Angel of Small Death, Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Rating: T, post -EoS.

Just when Lorcan thinks things can’t get any worse, the mating bond snaps into place. Elorcan. _____________________________________________________________

Lorcan was lacing up his boots when Elide entered the room. Even sitting, he took up too much space. Wherever he went, Lorcan loomed, a presence that was almost oppressive. She’d appreciated it when they were travelling together. Once upon a time, it had made her feel safe.

Now, it made her feel small, and young, and out of her depth.

And here, looking at him now, that inky black hair and sharp jaw, her whole heart ached from missing him.

“Whitethorn sent you, I assume?”

She nodded, then asked the question that had been plaguing her mind: “How long have you known?”

Because that was it, wasn’t it? How long - at what point did he know that the gods-damned mating bond was there? At what point was she supposed to know? And - and gods, what if he’d known and still called Maeve? What then?

A heavy, ominous pause stretched out between them. “Three days.” His voice sounded strained.

An audible sigh of relief. Elide swallowed, blinked away the tears that were building in the corners of her eyes.Her biggest fear out of the way, and she felt indignation rear its head. Good. Righteous anger. She could work with that. “And,” thank the gods, her voice didn’t shake. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you precious queen not approve?” He opened his mouth, but she continued, “You were crawling after her on the beach that day.”

For a split second, he looked like she slapped him. But he recovered, his almost permanent scowl returning. “Not until after I was certain you’d want to hear it. Whitethorn meddled.” He shrugged a pack over his shoulder and made for the door, stepping around her. “And it was Aelin. Believe it or not, Elide, I was fighting the oath to get to Aelin.”

“You said you were in love with her.”

The words came out before she could stop them, and Elide realized that it was selfish, and petty, and such a stupid detail - but she coudln’t get over it. He’d told her that he was in love with Maeve, and she’d still offered him a place in Perranth.

But seeing him interact with the queen had been a different matter entirely, had made her feel stupid and very, very young.

Lorcan’s throat bobbed. “If I’ve learned anything over these past gods-damned weeks,” he said lowly, “Is that that wasn’t love. Not truly. Not after seeing Whitethorn and Aelin.” His eyes lingered on her, impossibly sad. “Not after you.”

Elide’s heart pounded in her chest and her throat became tight. It was all so much, too much, and yet…

“Where are you going?”

“To Whitethorn’s room.” The way he said it made it seem like he wanted to strangle the fae.

“Stay.”

A beat of silence. Slowly - very, very slowly - Lorcan set his bag down. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’d feel safer. Not being alone.”

“Whitethorn or Gavriel can -”

But Elide shook her head. “I’m asking you, Lorcan.”

And for the first time since she’d met him, Lorcan smiled.

.x.x.x.x.x.

Lorcan - to his massive surprise - was a rutting mother hen.

Elide was a grown woman. She could handle herself. And with the help of his magic bracing her ankle, she moved much easier.

Yet still he insisted on fetching them dinner, and running her bath, and sending her clothes to be washed. He wanted to blame it on the mating bond - and surely, that must’ve contributed to the urgency - but this is how he’d been treating her from the beginning. Caring. Nurturing.

Who rutting was he?

Already clean herself, Elide was preparing for bed. He could hear her out in the room, shuffling around. He wondered how they’d sleep - if they’d sleep. But she’d never...gods. Gods. Maybe he should offer to sleep on the floor. Maybe…

He heard the covers shift, heard the bed creak under her weight. He swallowed. He cleaned his only shirt - his others torn to shreds for her - so he was half-naked, but that couldn’t be helped.

You’ve gone into battle with less worries, he scolded himself. Get it together.

.x.x.x.x.

There was a knot in her stomach as Elide laid down, propped up by some of the pillows. The bed was large enough that they could spend the whole night not touching, and yet…

She wasn’t sure what she wanted. How she felt. Once upon a time, she thought that she might’ve loved him. But...mates…

Lorcan stepped out, inky hair still damp from his bath. Drops of water dripped from the ends of his hair, down those massive shoulders...down that very bare torso, lower…

She dragged her eyes away. If he’d caught her staring, he hadn’t mentioned it.

“I can take the floor, if you want.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

His eyebrow quirked. He sat on the other side of the bed, still over the covers. He propped himself up on his elbow and stretched out, feet nearly spilling over the edge. “What do you want, Elide?”

Her eyes darted to where his free hand rested between them. She reached out and laced her fingers through his, felt those calloused fingers give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Why didn’t I notice anything?” she said, her voice sounding small. “With the bond.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word mate yet.

“You’re human,” he murmured. He was tracing patterns on the back of her hand with his thumb, slow and gentle enough that it made the hairs on her arms stand on end. “Even with your witch ancestry. The feelings wouldn’t be as strong.”

She nodded, looked up into those impossibly dark eyes. She wanted to be closer to him; but he was letting her guide this. He’d gone out of his way to give her privacy, had offered to sleep on the gods-damned floor…

“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I do have feelings for you, Lorcan.”

And before he could respond, she said, “Are you going to get under the covers or not?”

He did, and Elide moved closer, felt the warmth of his body. He slid his arm underneath the pillow she was using, tangled their legs together. Elide placed a hand on his chest; his other hand came up, covered hers.

The touch felt...she felt…

Safe. Home.

“Can you say here?” she asked, her voice scarcely a whisper. “Until the morning?”

“Of course,” he said. He pulled her closer, tucked her head underneath his chin. And then, almost too quiet for her to hear, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

To Be Continued.

----------------------------------

Check out my Elorcan sideblog, @court-of-elorcan

Ko-Fi | Ao3

#elorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan fic #throne of glass series #sjm #empire of storms #lorcan lochan

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tagsecretsanta · 5 years ago

Text

From Soniabigcheese

to @vegetacide

Secret santa doesn’t own this piece, full credit goes to the author above!

Christmas morning on board Thunderbird Five and John is recapping the last 24 hours with his AI unit EOS

“Are you sitting comfortably?”

John, is this really necessary? I mean, seriously, I cannot physically ‘sit’, since I’m on a rail.

John looked askance at the AI unit

“Do you want me to continue?”

Ugh, if you insist, although I think this is pointless. What am I going to learn from a fairytale? They’re not real.

John lifted a finger, opened his mouth to speak, paused then closed it again

“Ah .. good point EOS ... but still ... can I tell it to you anyways?”

Fine

“Ahem ... now ... where were we? Oh yes, sitting comfortably.”

John ...

“Christmas is a time for magic and wonder and of five Birds made of Thunder where one Christmas day something special did happen ...”

“MERRY CHRISTMAS JOHN!”

He was interrupted by holograms of his brothers all whooping and cheering. He was glad he wasn’t there when they opened their presents, loose wrapping paper on the floor was surely a disaster waiting to happen.

“Do you want to build a snowman???” “Gordon!” “What? It’s my favourite song. You were okay with it yesterday.” “Yeah, that was yesterday.” “We live on an island ... with a beach. We don’t get snow.” “Well ... we can always build sandcastles then?” “On that small strip of land? I don’t think so.” “Hey boys, wanna help me out with Christmas dinner?”

A collective URGH, they bid him farewell and hoped that he would manage to get his butt down from Thunderbird Five to have dinner with them. He said he would try. Besides, there was a lot to talk about, especially after last night’s adventure.

He turned to EOS, her ring of green lights almost waiting expectantly for him to continue. Yes, she was an inanimate object that couldn’t possibly exude any kinds of emotion. But she was his companion, his helper on board the space station.

Yeah, his brothers and sisters often sent holocalls to check on him, see if he was okay(Virgil), being well fed (Scott) when is he coming home (Alan) got a joke for you (Gordon)and Kayo’s standard security check. It was her way of checking up on him, without sounding too much like a smother hen and being girly and mushy.

“Sorry about that.”

That’s fine, but please don’t tell the tale in rhyme. It’s just .... patronizing I am not a child

John was amused at her way of expressing herself. Some days she can be so childlike, others so mature. But she was still relevantly new to International Rescue and the world in general.

“Okay ... well it all started with a call from a kindly old lady.”

Yes, I remember that.

Which brings me to the rest of the story

John gets a call from a kindly old lady who is the epitome of what a grandma SHOULD look like. He assumes that she’s asking someone to help her to get a cat out of a tree … on Christmas Eve of all things. Rescues were becoming less common than they used to be, thanks to Colonel Casey setting up and training a small unit of rescue support people. Still, despite this, they were still fudging things up and International Rescue had to be called. Often to clean up the GDF’s messy rescues.

It would be their first Christmas without an emergency, although they were still on standby ... you know … just in case.

It was a typical Christmas Eve family get- together. Scott armed with a fire extinguisher, because Grandma was cooking the turkey. She was busy chasing MAX out of the kitchen because she wanted to do this on her own. Virgil was on guard duty near the tree, just in case the two youngest brothers tried to sneak a peek at the pile of presents underneath. Gordon was singing ‘Do You Want To Build a Snowman?’ loudly and out of tune whilst scooping ice cream out of the tub … to everybody’s dismay. And Alan was chatting online to Brandon Berrenger, because they’d arranged to have an online gaming challenge.

Being the son of a billionaire had its perks. One of them being, that they could get advanced copies and sneaky previews of stuff before anyone else. And in this case, it was a thank you present for helping to save Brandon … again.

Brains, was fretting because Moffie hadn’t called to thank him for his ‘wonderful gift’ and was seen pacing the hangar floor waiting for her call.

Kayo was off the island, delivering a gift to her father most likely … or doing a security sweep. One minute, she’d be there, the next she was gone. That was Kayo, an enigma unto herself.

Which left John who was on board Thunderbird Five with EOS. He was trying to explain to the AI unit about Christmas … and wondering just how many packets of TUMS were still available. He was not looking forward to this dinner at all. Since they were living in the Southern Hemisphere, the seasons differed to that of their other grandparents home. Gran Roca Ranch.

He and the rest of his brothers suggested a barbecue and a chill out, but they were soon overruled by the matriarch of the family. She wanted a traditional turkey dinner with all the trimmings and by heck she WILL have one.

Speaking of … a hologram popped up halfway through John and EOS’s chats. It was a lovely little old lady. Her silver hair was up in a loose bun, she had silver half moon glasses perched on her button nose and if she wasn’t worried right now, John would correctly assume that she had a kindly smile.

“International Rescue? What is your situation?”

He was already scanning her location. Nothing seemed to be amiss – so far. But … he had to deal with this call like any other ones, as if there WAS a proper rescue and people needed saving.

“Oh … oh … hello deary.”

Oh gosh, that voice was soooo sweet. He half expected her to reach through the holovideo, pat him on his shoulder and tell him that he’d been such a good boy this year, and slip a peppermint into his hand. Or offer him a nice mug of hot chocolate.

He shook his head. No … what’s wrong with me? He wondered to himself. Blinking several times, he tried to get rid of the sudden warm and fuzzy feeling he was getting. He really needed to get his head back into this rescue.

Even EOS picked up on his sudden change of mood.

John? Are you okay? You are acting strangely. Quite unlike yourself. Shall I run some scans?

“No … no, it’s fine … I’m fine EOS.”

He was momentarily distracted by a ring of green lights that appeared in front of him. It was enough to break whatever spell he’d been put under. Flushing brightly, after being caught off guard there, he turned back to the little old lady, who was tugging at a lace handkerchief and muttering …

“Oh dear … oh dear.”

The scans still showed nothing, nothing at all. Which, was very odd indeed.

“How can I help you?”

May as well pull this Band Aid off and see what the problem is.

“I … seem to have lost my … my husband.”

And there it was … the crux of the matter.

“Have you contacted your local authorities? See if they can help?”

It wasn’t really something that they would normally deal with. But he had to go through protocol here, as some local authorities frowned upon someone muscling in on their territory. Her eyes widened with horror. At least she stopped sniffling.

“Oh, heavens no!” she exclaimed, “this is not exactly something that they could deal with.”

John narrowed his eyes suspiciously. What exactly was this old woman up to … and what devious plans was she embroiled in? He wasn’t sure if he should help or not. But … as their motto stated … no matter how good or bad, if they needed rescuing, then that’s their job – or something similar to that.

“Would you care to explain before I dispatch anyone?”

And so she told him the whole story and made him promise to be discreet. He blinked rapidly as he listened, and then patched through to Tracy Island, where everyone gathered … as per the norm.

“Guys?” John said hesitantly, he wasn’t sure himself of how to phrase this but he tried and hoped that they wouldn’t laugh or poke fun, “you’re not going to believe this.”

“Fire away John,” Scott responded, bracing himself for news of their dad. Gordon was still singing ‘Do you want to build a snowman?’ and chasing Alan around the room, threatening to drop ice cream down the back of his tee shirt.

“It seems … that …” oh darn, this sounds so stupid “… that … Mrs Santa Claus is asking for our help. It appears that her husband has disappeared and hasn’t been seen for hours. His … erm … ‘tracker’ had been disabled.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at John. Even Gordon fell silent.

“Say that again John?”

He knew they wouldn’t believe him. But he repeated himself and patched through Mrs Santa Claus herself, just to prove that he wasn’t going space crazy.

When she spotted them all, she beamed brightly and clapped her hands.

“Oh … International Rescue! I am so glad to see you all. I do hope that you can help me. You see…”

“Yeah, we know,” Alan interrupted grabbing the scoop from Gordon and setting it down on the counter top, “your husband…. Santa Claus … has gone missing.”

Her cheery demeanour soon changed and she glared hard at him, folding her arms and scowling.

“Well …” she said scornfully,”… aren’t YOU a rude little boy?”

Virgil stepped forward, hands in front of him in a placating manner.

“Wait … wait …” he said quickly, “let’s not turn this into a personal fight here.”

He turned around to everyone present, raising his eyebrows as a gesture to ‘roll with this, guys’, then looked at Mrs Claus with wonder and sincerity. Maybe there was something in rescuing Father Christmas after all? Unfortunately, the hologram before them did NOT look impressed.

“I’ve seen that look before,” she chided, “so many times, it is getting old.” “What look?” “Oh … the old … ‘if I’m super nice to you, maybe I can get my presents early’ look. Sorry young man, I’m NOT falling for it.”

John watched from space and took note of how feisty this woman was. And wondered if her husband had just wandered off to get away from her? Because now, with her true personality showing through, she was acting more like an old dragon lady. MUCH worse than grandma ... and that was saying something.

But then she changed again and started sobbing into her hankie.

“Christmas is going to be ruined! I know it. If he doesn’t deliver those presents all over the world … millions of children will be so disappointed. And that will mean a huge dip in popularity.”

She sighed heavily, dramatically and blew her nose … loudly.

“Oh well,” she said, smiling weakly, “guess it had to happen sooner or later. With all the climate changes … wars and conflicts and consumerism at its highest peak, people are losing faith in the spirit of Christmas. It’s all about grabbing bargains … and selling stuff in the middle of the year.”

They listened to her rambling.

It was true. Or, at least some of it was anyways.

“And … using us, to traumatize children. Scaring them into being good all the time, or we won’t give them their presents. That’s not what we started out to achieve.”

She sniffled again, wiped some tears from her face and looked up hopefully at them.

“Please … give this elderly couple some help? Even if this could be our last proper Christmas?”

The shriek of the smoke alarms and some unsavoury language coming from the kitchen area, was enough to convince everyone that THIS … whatever it was … was an emergency. They all turned to Mrs Claus, backs straightened and hopeful smiles …

And unanimously agreed …

“We’ll do it!”

John started delegating everyone to Thunderbird Two and said he’d stay behind to get the coordinates and track their whereabouts.

That’s when Mrs Claus butted in with a wag of her finger.

“Nuh uh uh,” she chided, “I need ALL of you for this one.” “Well … Kayo’s off the island,” Scott explained.

Her response was a death glare and he quickly corrected himself.

“But … maybe we can fill her in as we go along. John? You’ll have to get your bu …. *cough* Come down from Thunderbird Five. Hand everything over to EOS.” “Already on it.”

As they dashed through the living area, Grandma Tracy appeared, a whisk clogged with … some charred food on it.

“Where are you boys going? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Alan wheeled around, his eyes were bright.

“We’re off to save Santa!” he exclaimed.

Grandma just nodded and returned to whisking what was supposed to be mashed potatoes, muttering …

“Hmph, any excuse to get out of dinner. What will they think of next?”

MAX, wheeled around whistling and beeping. It was the only sound in the place. Nothing new really, she was used to them going off for hours. But … it was their first Christmas spent together as a family.

As soon as the hologram of John vanished, ‘Mrs Claus’ spun around in her chair and faced the hologram of her ‘husband’ with a grin.

“That’s stage one complete. Now for stage two.”

She was rewarded with a thumbs up.

“Ready when you are.”

Fingers flashed over a keyboard, the screen scrolled a list of algorithms … and then stopped.

“Alrighty then, co-ordinates are logged in.”

She pressed the button to Thunderbird Five and was greeted by a polite, but suspicious EOS.

“Hello dearie.”

Hello Mrs Claus how can I be of assistance?

“I have managed to find some co-ordinates that may have been the last whereabouts of my husband. Or at least I think they are. This system of mine is so outdated. We are so used to using the stars for navigation.”

EOS paused, trying to pick up some telltale signs in the woman’s voice. But … nothing. She could easily ignore this message, not forward it. But John and the rest were already on their way. Besides, it would be really petty of her. And if she helped in this way, maybe … just maybe she could gain just a little bit more of their trust?

I’m patching you through.

“Why thank you dearie, oh and don’t worry about the Tracy boys … they DO trust you. Why else would they leave you to handle the calls and monitor everything, if they didn’t?”

If EOS could blink, she would. She double checked her systems to see if she’d accidentally taken her thought processors off mute, but nope, there they were, untouched.

Virgil intercepted the co-ordinates and typed them into Thunderbird Four’s navigation system.

“Shouldn’t be too long Mrs Claus.” “Oh … thank you. Thank you so much. You really are such good helpful boys.”

They all chuckled.

“It’s no problem, really.”

Gordon sat forward.

“Hey, wanna singalong whilst we travel? I know a good one.”

He opened his mouth and barely got ‘Do you wanna build a snowman’ …. Before they all shouted ..

NO!

“Aww. I like that one.” “We know. We’ve heard it all morning.”

They were shushed by Virgil, whose dashboard lit up with a green flashing light.

“We’re here … right where she said he’d be.”

The wipers swished across the windows, revealing a small hut. Smoke was coming from the chimney. But no reindeer … or sleigh for that matter … to be seen anywhere.

“Maybe someone found him and taken him in?” “Looks cold out there, maybe we should wrap up warm?”

As the hatch opened, flurries of snow swirled in and despite their uniforms, they shivered. And agreed.

They made their way tentatively across the knee deep snow towards the cabin and Virgil knocked on the door.

“Hello? Anyone in here?”

The door swung open and banged against the cladded wall. A scruffily dressed man stood there, an antique claymore pipe in his hand, the beard was ragged and scorched. And he was wearing some dirty grey thermals.

He did NOT look anything like the Santa Claus they were used to.

“Bout time you boys showed up,” he grumbled, biting on the stem of the pipe, “I’m bloody freezing in here.”

They exchanged puzzled glances.

“Mister …. Santa .. Claus?” Gordon asked hesitantly

“Pfft … call me Nick, Kris Kringle … or whatever name they’ve given me over the years.”

He wandered back into the little shack, it didn’t look big enough to fit all five Tracy brothers so they hesitated. He stopped and turned to frown at them and grabbed Virgil, the biggest of them all by his green sash and yanked him indoors.

For such a small man, he was surprisingly strong.

“Come in … come in … it’s a lot bigger on the inside. Trust me.”

He gave them a conspiratorial wink.

So, slowly, one by one, they stepped over the threshold and entered the shack. First impressions, as they glanced around, it looked cosy, and the fire crackled merrily in the hearth.

“You’ll be wondering where my sleigh and reindeers are huh?”

Yeah, they had wondered that. He tapped the side of his nose.

“I, too, have my own secrets you know. Long before Tracy Island and International Rescue were created.”

By now, they were really really curious about this odd little old man. Maybe it was the warmth from the fire … or his jovial nature … but somehow, they felt like little kids once more.

Santa Claus beamed. His magic was working after all. He was so worried that it had gone stale from lack of use over the years. He closed the door behind them and grabbed the red coat from the peg.

“Sit down ... sit down, make yourself comfy. I already have a part of your team here.”

He swept his arm around to reveal Kayo sitting by the fire, a mug of hot chocolate cupped in her hands. She’d been sitting there quietly, so quiet and still that nobody noticed her.

“She sneaked up on me,” Santa chuckled, “that girl’s got some talent there. No wonder Brains gave her Shadow.”

He waited until everyone found a seat and then he explained.

“You see ... once in a while, whilst checking my lists,” he began, “there comes along a time where there is a very special award to be given to those most deserving of people. Those who are brave and heroic.”

Gordon puffed up his chest with a grin.

“That’s us!”

He was silenced with a load of shushes and sat quietly, poking at the marshmallow on the top of his chocolate drink.

“It is usually awarded to one person. But ... you all came along and that put me into quite a quandary. Since you obviously have everything you want ....”

“Except dad.”

“Ah yes ... I’ll get to that ....”

He coughed a little, and fished into his pocket, bringing out a small bottle. The contents sparkled and swirled.

“See this? This is magical dust. It usually lasts for a whole day, but since there’s a group of you. It will only last for a couple of hours at least. This ... is your reward. It gives you something that you all missed.”

“Can you bring back dad?”

“Unfortunately no ... but you are all doing a great job in looking for him. Keep up the good work.”

All their faces fell. It was their greatest desire to have their father back. But Santa was wise, if he’d given them that wish, it would have only lasted a couple of hours and it would have just been like losing him again. He wasn’t able to see into the future, but he had an inkling that they would be able to find their father ... under their own steam.

He opened the vial, tipped the contents into his hand and blew. It spread all over the room, sparkling and glittering. Everyone expected to sneeze, because ... after all ... it was just dust. And like all dust, it gets up your nose and makes you sneeze.

It took a couple of minutes before the effects began. They all started giggling and pointing. Why? Because they’d all been turned into children. Instead of their uniforms, they all wore thick clothing with hats, gloves and scarfs.

Santa smiled at them.

“You don’t have to worry about rescues. I’ve managed to put them all on hold, or diverted them to other sources. Or they’ve all resolved one another. Now ... go outside and play.”

Which they all did, with barely concealed glee.

It had been a long time since they had proper fun. And they had never experienced snow together as an almost whole unit. They’d dreamed of tobogganing and found some sleds nearby. With shouts and yells ... and poor John falling over several times ... they thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

But ... as time went on, the magic soon disappeared and they had to go back to their real lives. It was the best present Santa had ever given to them.

They thanked him profusely for the well deserved time off and gave him an updated tracking system to help him on his way before returning to Tracy Island. They were too tired to talk about it and immediately went to bed. John, however, was still buzzing when he took the space elevator up to Thunderbird Five.

He so wanted to share this experience with EOS

Yes, he was a practical man. He only looked at things in a scientific and sometimes abstract way ...

... but deep down, his inner child – like the rest of his brothers – still clung to the belief that Santa was real.

And for one moment. He was

The End

#Thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2019 #fanfic #John Tracy #Eos #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #alan tracy #grandma tracy #kayo kyrano #Brains Hackenbacker #Christmas magic

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