#i have a few fics where virgil is an older brother and they are so much fun to write! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gumnut-logic · 8 months ago

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Sweetapple Slice 4

Alexander Sweetapple series

@idontknowreallywhy asked:

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

I could have taken this many ways. I might still. But thi is what happened this time :D

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the late night read ::hugs you tight::

This is a male/male romance, so if that is not your thing, this isn't your fic.

The first 350 words of this were posted last night, here be the rest :D

I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil gripped the keep-cups a little tighter than he probably should. Especially as they were full of scalding hot coffee. But he was worried, and his flight down to Mahia may have been a little impulsive and over-reactionary.

Landing a four hundred and six tonne Thunderbird in the middle of the Tracy Industries R&D Facility at 3am was likely to get his butt toasted by a certain older brother.

As it was, several staff had come running out and he had had to wave them off.

No emergency. Everything’s fine. Sorry for waking you up.

Just need to check in on someone.

He’d probably made everything worse, come to think of it.

But they’d all wandered off back to bed. The one remaining person had been Fireman Fred and his expression had been far too knowing for Virgil’s comfort.

So he’d proven that the second eldest Tracy brother wasn’t perfect and possibly was a little far too smitten for his own good.

But it was the absence of one person that had him worried the most.

The housing apartments for employees were sufficiently upmarket to lure in talent to the business. Each employee had their own space, be it cabin or apartment.

Alex had opted for an apartment on the end of a row. It had been obvious the few times Virgil had been invited back to the engineer’s home that Alex spent little time there.

The man lived for his lab.

To the point that Virgil had initially headed towards that building only to be diverted by a nudge from Fred. “Erica kicked him out. He was makin’ a racket. Yelling at his computer like it had threatened his first born, or somethin’”

Virgil winced. Or somethin’

“Thanks, Fred.” A sigh. “Sorry for waking you up.”

The big man dropped a weary hand on his shoulder. “Yer a good one, son. Bein’ there when he needs yer. The rest, well, shi’ happens.” With that, Fred patted him once more on the shoulder, turned, and walked off into the darkness, presumably back to his quarters.

Leaving Virgil to make his own way to Alex’s home.

There was a light in the window, as he expected, but Virgil still approached the door with a little hesitation.

He didn’t ring the doorbell, only tapping on the wooden door.

Footsteps had Virgil straightening where he stood.

Alex flung the door open. “What?!” His eyes widened. “Oh! Virgil! Come in. Ohhhh, you brought coffee! I love you!”

Something in Virgil’s belly relaxed as Alex flung the screen door open and virtually dragged him inside. This was his Alex. He didn’t need to worry. It was all going to be okay.

“You on the way back from a rescue?”

Virgil handed him his coffee and couldn’t help but smile when Alex immediately scarfed half of it down. Probably not the best at 3am, but considering why Virgil was here, it was a gift of…some kind.

Virgil’s shoulders dropped just a little. He hadn’t meant for Alex to become involved and he really hoped he would be forgiven.

“No. No rescue.”

Apparently no competition for the coffee either because Alex downed the remainder of his cup in one gulp.

And Gordon thought Virgil inhaled his stim juice.

The cup was put down on a side table. “Hey, what do you think of fractal polymers?”

And there it was, the core of the issue. His heart melted as Alex finally showed how agitated he really was. He walked backwards, obviously not sure what to do with his hands, and towards the glowing face of his laptop. The familiar graphics glared across the room at Virgil.

“Uh-“

“I’m so glad you’re here, Virgil. I need your opinion on this.”

Virgil dragged his feet forward. A breath. “What’s up?”

“Do you keep up with the engineering boards online?” Virgil opened his mouth to answer, but Alex kept talking. “Of course, you do. What a stupid question. Umm, I like to keep abreast of the latest in polymers, because, well, Siliwrap, and I came across this amazing article by V.T Green. I mean the guy is a master.”

Virgil swallowed as Alex gestured emphatically with his hands.

“You have heard of him, haven’t you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Total genius with polymer work.” Alex was really getting into the topic now. “Awhile back he had this idea for a self-healing polymer. It was amazing, Virgil. The design was beauty itself.” The expression on Alex’s face had Virgil’s heart beating so much faster. “But anyway, hero worship aside, the guy knows his stuff.”

“Sounds like it.” Virgil just wanted to kiss Alex until all his worries vanished. He could do that. His job was saving people, wasn’t it?

“Yeah.” Alex’s shoulders dropped. “There are too many assholes in this world.”

“Alex-“

“The article proposed the idea that if we could generate a finite fractal-structured polymer, it might be able to create an interlocking chain strong enough to support weight over long distances. He described fishing line that could lift an ocean liner from space. He even proposed that the chain could possibly be built on demand, constructed electronically when needed and similarly disassembled when not.” Alex grabbed both of Virgil’s upper arms. “Can you imagine the possibilities?!”

He didn’t need to. The technology now powered Thunderbird Five’s elevator.

“Alex-“

“But where there is genius, there is always idiocy.” Alex flung up his hands in frustration. “He was called ridiculous. Some claimed his theories were no more than technobabble from a science fiction show. One said he was a sellout and goodie-two-shoes who licked Tracy ass!”

Virgil opened his mouth.

“What is wrong with trying to do good?!” And yeah, there was the passion that had been shouted all over the engineering boards. ApplesWithAttitude had made his point very, very clear. Even taking on the annoying Coloncous - V.T. Green’s nemesis.

And the retaliations had been worse than nasty.

“How can people be so disappointing? Why is money and power the ultimate goal?” Alex sat back on the edge of his desk, deflated. “Why are people such assholes?”

Virgil put his coffee cup, still untouched, down beside Alex’s empty one, and took the handful of steps to get up and close to the man he was in love with.

Yes, in love at this very moment.

He dropped a knuckle beneath Alex’s chin and nudged the engineer to look up at him. “Your words were beautiful, you know.”

Alex stared at him a moment before his eyes slowly widened. “You-“

Virgil kissed him before he could say anything more, hard enough, soft enough, for the man to melt in his arms.

It was a long moment before he was forced to break off for air. Alex hung in his arms, staring up at him, possibly a little dazed.

Virgil’s lips curled into a small smile.

“You’re V.T. Green.” Quiet awe.

“Yeah.”

“You’re brilliant.”

His smile quirked to one side. “Sometimes, maybe. But then, you’re not so bad yourself. ApplesWithAttitude taught them a few things tonight.”

Alex blushed. Just a little. Enough to widen Virgil’s smile just that little bit more.

“They pissed me off.” And there was the fire again. “They had no right.”

“I must remember not to anger you myself. You’re scary.”

Alex let out a small laugh, but he reached up and brushed his fingers across Virgil’s cheek. “How are you so…”

But Virgil didn’t let him finish, touching his lips softly with his own, kissing gently. “Thank you for coming to my defence.” He whispered the words.

Alex drew in a breath, catching Virgil’s lower lip. “My pleasure.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

But Alex suddenly broke off the kiss. “Hey, that means we can talk fractal polymers!”

Virgil stared at him a solid moment before he lost it, and cracked up laughing.

-o-o-o-

AN: Sorry, forgot to add that you can find the V.T. Green story here if this makes no sense.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alexander sweetapple #nuttyfic

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idontknowreallywhy · 1 year ago

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This was not at all the way I thought this fic was going but a certain scene took over my mind, and I literally couldn’t do anything else until I’d got it down… Virgil refused to do as he was told and got carried away and then Scott took me by surprise and got heavily involved also. It needed an external viewpoint so Gordon has now inexplicably shoehorned himself into the action… let’s just say it got very out of control.

It also doesn’t advance the plot in any way at all, adds absolutely nothing to the mystery and no hints for the solution either. So let’s call it a little interlude (chapter 3b-i perhaps) and then forget it ever happened 😂

Apologies if this gives anyone a persistent earworm, but I hope I’ve conveyed the mental image well enough to make it a fun one… and it can’t be all classical all the time, can it?

*cackles*

Release

Gordon had been in the next town over using a dozer-pod to assist with clearing some of the more major roads. The rescue Virgil had dropped him off for turned out to be fairly straightforward once he’d cleared the entrance of the old stadium and everyone had just walked out. Frankly it had been a while since he’d had a non-traumatic mission and so when asked if he could lend a hand with this more mundane task he was more than happy to make it worth the effort of configuring the pod.

The only hitch had been where his comm unit had started glitching out - he’d managed to relay a static-filled message to John with his location and that he was safe and would wait for Two to collect him. John had confirmed receipt but all had gone quiet since.

Becoming increasingly bored, and with nothing better to do Gordon figured he’d start making his way back down the road towards where his brothers were finishing off. The pod should have a few miles’ worth of juice left and it was better just than hanging around waiting in the dark. He attached a storm lantern to the roof of the pod to make sure Virgil wouldn’t miss him when he flew over.

The “make a start on the journey” soon became “make the entire journey”. Finding both One and Two dark and empty in a field outside town, Gordon sighed, left the pod there and started trekking down the road towards civilisation.

Mildly grumpy at being abandoned, he decided the best revenge would be to sneak up on them, whatever they were doing and cause some mischief. Maybe see if he could trigger that rare girlish screech both the bigger bros could emit when unexpectedly jabbed in the side below the ribs. Gordon could be immensely stealthy when required, a fact not commonly recognised by his family due to the more usual clownish strutting style of movement he favoured. He strode along, fuelled by the unique variety of adrenaline released by full scale plotting.

Gordon’s recall of the town centre itself was hazier than his older brothers’ and the pictures he did have were overlaid with the memory of his mother’s hand firmly restraining him from running out into the traffic. But he recognised the jumble of structures that made up the old school. It seemed to be the only building with any sign of life so he jogged towards it. At least someone here might be able to tell him where his family had got to.

In fact, the school appeared to have a whole town’s worth of life… as he neared it he could hear… was that stamping? And… yeah, ok that was definitely singing. All thoughts of stealth and prankage swept from his mind by curiosity he sprinted across the playground and skidded through the front entrance, into reception and was hit by a wall of sound as hundreds of voices were half singing / half yelling a line which felt vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place…

WHOA-OH!

He gripped on to the doorframe of the hall entrance with both hands and his jaw dropped so emphatically he faintly wondered if he’d dislocated something as he tried to comprehend the scene in front of him.

The majority of the town seemed to be gathered around the piano, stamping, clapping, banging crutches and, in one notable case, smashing two saucepans together with abandon - all singing and egging on the man at the keys. When Gordon’s eyes fixed on that figure everything else briefly faded out. He’d thought he knew this man well but had never in his life encountered this version:

Jet black hair had fallen out of the carefully constructed fauxhawk, some sticking wildly out to the side, the rest plastered to his forehead. His head thrown back, his eyes wide and wild and the world’s biggest smile on his sweaty dirt-marked face as he hammered out the accompaniment:

JUST ONE LOOK AND I CAN HEAR A BELL RING

ONE MORE LOOK AND I FORGET EVERYTHING

Oh wow, he did know this, it was some Swedish band from the 20th century that his parents had loved. But he hadn’t heard it in… so long.

Grinning, he wormed his way through the crowd only to freeze in absolute astonishment when the man standing next to Virgil came into view.

The poised Field Commander of International Rescue was passionately punching the air as he sang at the top of his voice, tears of laughter streaming down his face:

YES, I’VE BEEN BROKEN HEARTED

BLUE SINCE THE DAY WE PARTED

His other arm was around an elderly gentleman who was waving a walking cane and bouncing enthusiastically.

Virgil’s gauntlets and comm unit had been dropped to the floor at some point and Gordon noticed John’s hologram, arms folded and a smirk on his face, silently observing the proceedings. So that’s why everyone had forgotten him.

The tiny bubble of resentment popped as soon as it arose. Whatever it was that had unlocked this joy and abandon in his brothers, he wanted IN - Gordon threw his arms around a nearby group of teenagers and belted out the lyrics that had been nestled in his brain for over a decade:

MAMMA MIA, HERE I GO AGAIN

MY, MY, HOW CAN I RESIST YOU

…

If you find yourself wanting to learn to play what Virgil is, there’s another one of those cool videos here:

youtube

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #Thunderfluff #MASSIVE EARWORM WARNING #Youtube #the paint mystery #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #idkrw thunderfluff #music is everything #Music is Everything fic

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katblu42 · 2 years ago

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Bandit - FishTank week reblog

Another Wee Tracys fic. This time it's completely fluff inspired by (a prompt generated with the Wheel of Whump which gave me) the concept of "help eating" with a location of a "vent." It does fit today's FishTank Week theme though!

Note: I have no experience with these creatures, and no knowledge of housing construction (and a tendency to get very frustrated with researching stuff very quickly), so I apologise for any inaccuracies in those departments.

Bandit

At first he thought he was imagining it, but over the course of the last hour the little scratching noises had increased. It was distracting him from his homework. Something was inside his bedroom wall, he was sure of it. Gordon wondered whether he should tell one of his brothers. More specifically one of his older brothers. Telling Alan would only get the kid excited and make rescuing whatever animal was stuck in the wall more difficult.

Scratch. Scuffle, scratch, scrabble, scratch.

As quietly as he could, he slid the chair back from his desk, tip-toed to the wall and pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He almost gave up, thinking perhaps whatever it was had gone somewhere else, or fallen asleep, then he heard a quiet swooshy movement – the kind his hand might make if he brushed it against the wall. Scratch, scratch. It was close now. Low down, near the floor. His eyes swept along the skirting board until he spotted the vent on the other side of his desk.

Hmm. If he could get the vent open maybe he could spot the animal stuck in the wall and maybe even get it out. On close inspection of the 8” by 6” vent cover he could see it was attached to the wall with 4 small screws. He’d need tools. And maybe snacks to encourage the animal to come out. And maybe a box or something to put the creature in until he could relocate it outside. Yep, he had a plan. He darted out of the room to collect the items he needed.

Wham! He darted straight into Virgil.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Virgil caught hold of him by the shoulders, steadying him and making sure he was not about to hurt himself after bouncing off his bigger brother’s chest.

“Ooof! Sorry, Virg.” Gordon spoke almost at the same time, made sure his feet were solidly planted again and shrugged away from Virgil’s grip. Curiosity and concern burned down at him from beneath raised eyebrows. He felt his own eyes betray him as he glanced back towards his room and back up to meet his brother’s gaze.

“What are you hiding in there?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Gordon put his hand over his heart. “It’s just … there’s a … I was just going to …” He sighed – a physical thing involving his whole body – and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor for a moment. When he finally looked back up at Virgil the familiar expression of patient calm he found there gave him the encouragement he needed. “I think there’s an animal stuck in my wall and I need to get some stuff so I can see if I can rescue it.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. That was all it took. Gordon knew he had an ally. He showed Virgil the vent he wanted to open, described the noises he’d heard and waited impatiently with his bigger brother until they both heard the noises again. Virgil agreed to help him open the vent, suggesting a box to catch the animal in was a must, but perhaps they should hold off on the snacks until they discovered what type of animal it was and therefore what it might eat, and whether it needed coaxing out of the wall space.

While Virgil went to collect the right type of screwdriver and a couple of other tools (just in case), Gordon prepared a makeshift animal carry box. He dumped the dirty laundry out of the plastic laundry bin from the corner of his room. Its sides were a kind of latticework that would ensure the animal could still breath when he placed the lid on top. He lined the bottom of the bin with a few towels so the creature would be comfy.

Virgil returned with the tools and a flashlight. Together they moved Gordon’s desk so they had more room to work around the vent. Virgil made short work of the removal of the first 2 screws.

“Get ready with that nest of yours, Gordon,” he said as he lined up the screwdriver on the third screw. “Hold it close to the wall, below the vent, just in case the cover swings loose and the animal makes a run for it.”

It was at that moment Gordon remembered Virgil had a fairly strong dislike of rats and mice. The expression of grim determination on his brother’s face suggesting he was forcing himself to continue his task despite the fear made Gordon feel kind of proud of him.

The third screw was removed, but the vent cover stayed firmly in place. Virgil moved on to the last screw and Gordon kept the re-purposed laundry bin in place. This last one proved difficult to remove, rusted in place. With a grunt from Virgil and a slight cracking sound the screw finally began to move, and within a few turns of the screwdriver was moving more freely. Once all the screws were out Virgil had to use a flat bladed driver to prise the top of the vent cover free from the wall. Before removing it all the way he glanced at his younger brother, who nodded in confirmation that he was ready. The cover came off the vent and … nothing happened.

Gordon let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and put the laundry basket nest down. The sudden release of tension in Virgil’s shoulders indicated his brother probably felt much the same way as he put the vent cover down, resting it against the wall.

“Let’s take a look,” Virgil suggested as he reached for the flashlight. “See if we can see who’s in here, or something to show us what we might be dealing with.”

Gordon inched himself closer so he could see inside the vent as Virgil clicked on the flashlight and aimed it into the darkness. The beam of light illuminated a small section of flexible ducting before it curved upward. Both brothers felt a little deflated at this result until they heard the scuffling noise close by. Remaining silent and keeping the flashlight beam steady, they waited and were rewarded by the sudden appearance of a pair of eyes glowing back at them from a black, white and grey banded furry face.

“It’s a raccoon,” Virgil stated with an audible sigh of relief. “It must have made a hole in the ducting there near the bend, look.”

As the little furry head disappeared again Gordon could just make out the ragged edges of the hole Virgil was trying to catch in the flashlight beam. A frown creased his forehead as his attention turned to how they were going to get the little guy out.

“What are you thinking, Gordon?”

“Do you think Alan’s small enough to crawl in there and rescue Bandit?”

The look of horrified surprise on his big brother’s face, which quickly flickered through a glare in response to Gordon’s mischievous smile, before settling on mild confusion greatly amused the younger boy.

“You named the racoon Bandit?”

“Yep.”

“And you know Alan wouldn’t fit in there, and even if he did we would not be sending him in there after a wild animal.” Virgil’s eye roll and head shake just amused Gordon more.

“I know, but it’s fun to see the faces you make when you think I’m being serious.”

“Ha ha.” Virgil turned off the flashlight and shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, sitting back on his heels. “We’re gonna need to figure out how to get this little guy – Bandit – out of there, and we’re gonna need to tell Dad about this.”

“We do? Why?”

“Because Bandit is only a kit and that means his mom and the rest of his family could be in the house somewhere, probably in the attic.”

“Awww.” Gordon’s features scrunched into his that’s-so-cute face. “Mumma raccoon’s missing one of her babies. We gotta get Bandit back to his family.”

“We have to get him out here first, Squid.”

“Snack time!” Gordon stood up and was two steps towards the door faster than Virgil could react, then he suddenly stopped and turned back. “What do baby raccoons eat?”

Neither brother knew the answer to that question, so a quick internet search was carried out. A trip to the kitchen was made and Gordon returned with two pairs of rubber gloves – because raccoons can carry rabies and it’s best to be as safe as possible – an old baby bottle with a little milk in it and a few different fruits and nuts. They didn’t know whether Bandit had teeth yet or not, so the kit might not be ready for solid foods, but they also weren’t sure if cow’s milk would be suitable for a baby raccoon.

The first attempt at coaxing Bandit out of the vent involved placing a few berries and nuts as far into the ducting as Virgil could reach with the aim of attracting the little raccoon and then luring it out with a trail of food. After a few minutes of waiting the scratching, scuffling noises were heard, a little black nose appeared through the hole in the ducting … then disappeared again.

Ten more minutes of waiting and no further activity passed before Gordon decided they should try some banana. He took prime position kneeling on the floor in front of the vent. Virgil moved over beside him aiming the flashlight, and holding the laundry bin nest at the ready. Gordon held a few pieces of smooshy banana in his gloved fingertips and slowly stretched his arm as far into the vent as he could reach. With his arm and the flashlight taking up most of the available opening he had to press his face up near the vent and look through one eye in order to see inside.

The two boys waited silently, listening for the tell-tale noises of movement within the wall cavity. It wasn’t long before Bandit made another appearance, the little black nose twitching as the kit cautiously emerged through the hole and tentatively advanced toward Gordon’s hand. Gordon spoke words of encouragement to Bandit and tried to make coaxing “raccoon noises”.

“Come on, that’s it.” He made a few squeaky sucking noises through his teeth. “Come get some yummy banana.”

The coaxing noises gave way to sounds Virgil recognised as Gordon’s too-excited-by-the-cute-animal-for-real-words vocalisations as Bandit began licking at Gordon’s gloved fingertips and making vocalisations of its own. Each time the kit stopped licking Gordon inched his hand a little nearer to the exit of the vent and Bandit followed, drawn by the tantalising promise of more of the tasty fruit. Bandit’s little paws tried to grab onto Gordon’s fingers, perhaps to stop them moving away, but the gradual progress towards the vent continued.

When Gordon had withdrawn his arm far enough for them to be able to see without the flashlight Virgil turned his attention to the prospect of containing the little critter. He broke off a little more of the banana and placed it on the towels inside the laundry bin to encourage the kit inside. Gordon was talking to Bandit again, softly, soothing, encouraging the kit to keep edging closer to the edge. His hand was all the way out now, held just in front of the opening and Bandit’s head was tentatively peeking out into the room. The little nose still twitched, the tiny paws kept reaching out to hold fingers or bits of mushy banana. Ever so slowly Gordon moved his other hand into position above the vent and while Bandit was busily focusing on the banana smeared hand he gently took hold of the kit and lifted him out. Moving both hands in tandem, and with Virgil bringing the laundry bin close, Bandit was quickly transferred into the little nest. Gordon kept the hand with the food close to Bandit, moving it towards the banana pieces Virgil had placed in there. Soon Bandit was holding a piece of fruit in tiny paws and Gordon withdrew his hand altogether.

Making sure Bandit was as comfortable as possible the boys placed the lid firmly on the laundry bin, and shared a high five. Now they just had to remove the fruit and nuts from the ducting, replace the vent cover, clean up the mess they’d made in Gordon’s room, tell their Dad about Bandit and the potential family of raccoons somewhere in the house, reunite Bandit with the rest of the family and safely re-home all the raccoons. Should be easy, right?

#fishtank week 2023 #fishtank day 4 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #fluff #wee tracys

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tracybirds · 2 years ago

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Do you have headcanons about the brothers' ages?

Kia ora anon 💕 sorry for the babble but I babbled :D

I play pretty fast and loose with most headcanons bc as far as I'm concerned they live to serve me and the story I'm playing with rather than the other way around, so I'm pretty comfortable holding several contradicting headcanons at once. Most of the time when age doesn't matter I'm loosely rolling with the generally accepted TOS age differences and making them a couple of years younger (so Scott 28, Virgil 25, John 23, Gordon 20 and Alan 17).

But there's plenty of stories where that simply doesn't work for me, for a variety of reasons. Alan gets shifted around a lot; I like the idea of him being a bit of a surprise and being significantly younger than even Gordon. For example, in this fic I needed the older boys to all attend the same high school at the same time, so I made Alan like 8 years younger than Gordon and smooshed the other four into a tiny age range (I admittedly forgot that American high schools are only four years not five like they are here lol) so it means the ages would have been something like: Alan 16, Gordon 24, John 25, Virgil 27 and Scott 28. In my current Big Fic (obligatory plug lol), at the start of the story Alan is 16 turning 17, Gordon is 24, John's a few days shy of 29 (turns uh.... 16 soon after lmao), Virgil's 30 and Scott's 31. I have found that the older three in particular are getting aged up alongside with me LOL clearly I'm not yet ready to let them go and be older than them :D

Generally I write Virgil as older than John, but again only as long as it serves my purposes and I'm fully on board with John being older and I've had a lot of fun with making different twin combos lol although I've never written them in full :D Someone remind me to do that 🤪🤪 I think my earlier stuff is more likely to have John be older so I guess I fell in line with that more strongly a couple of years ago... an example is this fic where I wrote them as kids and it says that I'd intended Scott to be about 9 and John to be 5, while Virgil is still "a toddler" and Gordon and Alan aren't born yet.

So yeah.... I do what works and don't worry about it too much :D The spreadsheet that allows me to calculate precise ages for moments like this is evidence of my totally chilled out attitude xD

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cg29fics · 2 years ago

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I posted 59 times in 2022

That's 10 more posts than 2021!

41 posts created (69%)

18 posts reblogged (31%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cg29

@cg29fics

@tracybirds

@drileyf

@alexthefly

I tagged 57 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#cg29fics - 57 posts

#thunderbirds fanfiction - 57 posts

#thunderbirds are go - 48 posts

#thunderbirds - 47 posts

#thunderbirds original series - 26 posts

#thunderbirds fandom - 25 posts

#thunderbirds are go fanfiction - 24 posts

#tagficgone - 17 posts

#virgil tracy - 14 posts

#gordon tracy - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 30 characters

#thunderbirds are go fanfiction

My Top Posts in 2022:

Rules: share the first line of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

Thank you @myladykayo for the tag. Here are my last 10 stories - All Thunderbirds fics ☺️

1: Holding Hands - Standalone story in my Bring on the Fluff collection.

The tiny hand clutched his little finger, blue sparkling eyes stared at him with such intensity and trust.

2: Avalanche - Ongoing. Line from the 1st chapter.

The wind was calm, and the snow fell gently to the ground.

3: Reflections - Complete. Line from the 1st chapter - 2nd line as the first is directly from the episode the fic is based on.

Scott’s heart lurched at the pure panic emanating from Virgil’s voice, but there was nothing he could do as he watched Thunderbird Two squeal across the runway with dark heavy flames springing forth.

4: Radiant - Standalone story in my Bring on the Fluff collection

Sea bubbles frothing on the waves of change.

5: Breakfast in Bed - Standalone story in my Bring on the Fluff collection

A tiny knock on the door woke her from her sleep, mother instincts immediately kicking in she rolled over and looked at the door where her eldest was peeking through a small crack.

6: Improv Writing - 3 mini stories in my Pick & Mix Collection. Line from the 1st mini fic.

Little Scott Tracy sat in his treehouse gazing out at the sight.

7: Holding On - Standalone story in my Bad Things Happen Bingo collection

"Virgil come in, do you read me?"

See the full post

26 notes - Posted March 22, 2022

Two Fics

Not writing much at the moment so sharing some older stories - The following are 2 fics that I’ve been meaning to stick on this side-blog for a while.

@psychoseal here they are 🥺

Tagging a few others who might also want to read… @janetm74 @drileyf @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @thundergeek59 @bonsaiiiiiii @katblu42

Warning: The fics below the cut ⬇️ contain a character death 🥺

Hands

His head was bowed, his eyes glaring with anger at his hands. They were large, usually so strong, and rough from years of rescues. Yet, at the same time they could sketch complex details onto a pad, they could glide across a piano and make sweet melodious music spring forth, or they could help him to fix something that had broken. They had never failed him. Today, when they had been grasping desperately onto someone he cared about, they had.

Pure rage shot from his eyes and before he knew what he was doing he was up on his feet and those hands that he had relied on so much smashed into the mirror. Shards of glass scattered, blood oozed creating intricate patterns on his palms. It’s what they deserved. They had grown strained and weak. They had given in, they had let go, and his eldest brother had fallen…

“Virgil…”

He lifted his gaze his eyes meeting a sad sky blue. “S…Scott?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he sighed at the state of his brothers’ hands, “you’ve hurt yourself.”

“Deserve it.”

“Not your fault.”

“Couldn’t hold on… I… I let go.”

“Not true… I did… Virg, you didn’t notice but the rope holding you was close to snapping from the combined weight, if I hadn’t let go we both would have fallen… You’re my little brother, I love you, and there was no way I was going to let you get hurt.”

“But you… You did, and now you’re…”

“I know…”

See the full post

28 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

This week’s Fic Back Friday is the 1st chapter from an ongoing WIP

🏷 if you would like to be tagged in any fic posts then let me know 😊

@janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @ak47stylegirl @thundergeek59 @dragonoffantasyandreality

Lucille

C1: The Unseen Woman

You all know about International Rescue and you've all met the faces behind the team. Jeff Tracy and his five boys; Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, and Alan. You will also know the others who sometimes join them on their missions, and the rest of the family who live on the island. These are the ones you know, but me, well, unfortunately we haven't personally met. You will have caught a glimpse of my face though. My features are etched into Virgil and I'm in many a photo scattered throughout their island home. You will have also heard about me. Most likely through wistful tears, or a happy memory shared between the boys and their father beneath the stars.

The reason we have never met is because I lost my life when the boys were just children. Two of them too young to understand where I had gone, why they couldn't see me, and why I was never coming home. The older three, they did understand what had happened, but were still too young to deal with such raw feelings, and because of that tragic day they were forced to grow up way too fast!

If I could change that day, change that moment that took my life, if I could spare them the pain of losing me then I would do so in a heartbeat, but when the avalanche that took my life hit, I had to make an instant choice. Protect my own life or protect the life of the child I was holding in my arms. Of course, I chose the life of my child and I will never regret the decision I made. I used my body to shield them and let the ice-cold snow hit me with its full force. I kept them wrapped tightly in my arms, begged them to stay awake, to keep breathing, and cling onto their life, even though I knew mine was slipping away…

And that's why you've never met me because that was the day my life ended. However, even though it did end that day, my soul didn't! You see, I continued to watch over them. I could never truly leave them. How could I? They were… Correction, they are my everything! So, even though you've never met me, I have been there throughout it all! The highs and the lows. The tears of sadness and of joy, and the moments that anyone who truly knows them would fill you with utter pride!

So, I would like to introduce myself. I am a wife, I am a mother, and I am the one who watches over International Rescue, making sure I am there to catch them whenever they fall. My name is Lucille Tracy and this, well this is my story!

You can read the other 3 chapters over on Ao3 or FFNET. User Name - CreativeGirl29: 4 chapters currently posted, updates have been very slow but do happen.

30 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Virgil Drabbles

Since I’m going to be reading these to help me continue writing them I thought I’d use them for this weeks Fic Back Friday.

Tagging some who are usually tagged and a few of you who I know enjoy Virgil fics 💚 If you’d like to be tagged for this or any other fic updates then please let me know 💛

@janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @ak47stylegirl @dragonoffantasyandreality @burningcowboyhoagietaco @inertplanetary @womble1 @bonsaiiiiiii @gumnut-logic

Note:

Each chapter is 100 words only.

I will be posting up to chapter 12 today then sharing more next Friday until I’ve caught up with my Ao3/FFNet pace.

Virgil is the main focus of these and is the middle child.

Chapter 1: 15th August

I’ve been here before and I always swear, ‘Never Again!’

But then…

It’s over and for a few seconds, which always feels longer, I hear nothing. Then the sound I’ve been waiting for… That first cry, followed by:

“Congratulations, it’s a boy!”

The relief washes over me, as I look to my husband. The obvious pride flowing from him as our new baby is placed in my arms, and his soulful eyes lock with mine.

“Do you have a name?” Someone asks.

It’s at that moment I know I’ll be here again.

“Yes,” I nod, “his names Virgil… Virgil Tracy.”

Chapter 2: Expert

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33 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Bring on the Fluff

The 3rd short story from my fic collection ‘Bring on the Fluff.’ From this self-created fluffy prompt LIST Feel free to use the prompts that I’m working through. This can also be found on Ao3 & FFNet - CreativeGirl29

Previous: C1 & C2

Holding Hands

The tiny hand clutched his little finger, blue sparkling eyes stared at him with such intensity and trust. He was an unexpected gift, and early to arrive. He was their first born. His baby boy. His Scotty!

He had sworn he’d do anything for him. Yet, for nearly 9 years he had failed. No, it wasn’t his fault that this had happened, this was the result of another man’s insatiable desires. Nevertheless, he still couldn’t help but blame himself. Scott had already lost some of his childhood when his mother had passed, now he had been left to raise his four younger brothers he would have discarded the rest. However, despite not being there to witness it he knew his son would succeed. He would continue on and would become the man he was destined to be. Every day he would make him proud.

Yet despite the signal he had sent out he hadn’t expected this. His son was here.

Deep down he knew he shouldn’t be surprised, after all Scott was so much like himself. If there was the tiniest bit of hope, then no matter how long it took he would persevere, and he had. His Scotty had found him. His back was to him, he was within touching distance, yet he was falling…

No!

He reached out grabbing hold… Those same eyes, no longer a child's. Blue. Sparkling. Trust filled with surprise shimmering through. His now adult hand clutched his and he held on… “I’ve got you son.” and he knew he wouldn’t let go again.

44 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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glacierruler · 3 months ago

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Jenga Chapter 13

Ao3 Masterpost | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

This fic is rated Mature

All content warnings can be found in the masterpost

“Are you sure you’re up to learning the history behind these phrases? As wonderful as it is for you to learn more about how to interact in this kind of setting, it’s… it’s integral to explain the importance of these phrases as well.” Janus was obviously a bit nervous about this, it seemed all of them were. If Patton messed up, if he got things wrong, he could hurt them. And that was terrifying for everyone.

“The first term to know is ‘Sunset Glimmer.’ It’s an older one, but still commonly used. And if you’re trying to figure out if Madame Monche is one of us, you’ll want to use that term. But, and Patton, I mean this so sincerely, you will need to watch At the Edge of Your World to understand it completely. The best I can explain it to you is the main character is from a fantasy land, and her color palette was that of a sunset, and whenever she produced magic the screen glimmered. It’s an illegal movie, one that was banned ages ago, but I can lend it to you.”

“And I have to watch it before I can use the term to ask her about it.”

“Yes.”

“As for more recently developed terms,” Logan cut in, “you will find most of those in more underground music. The type of music your brother seems to enjoy.”

“I will?”

“Yup, I’ve told you before, music tells a lot more about a person than anyone thinks. Take for example, the band Glabodos—”

“Not them again,” Roman groaned, “they’re your absolute favorite, but they suck!”

“Robro’s right, their sound is all off, Drunge is so much better!”

“Both of you are so wrong, I mean have you heard their new single—”

“I do not believe whether the band is pleasing to listen to, a matter of opinion, is the matter at hand here.”

“Sorry Logan,” all three of them echoed at once, staring down at their shoes.

“Well Jeremiah said something about the Glabodos getting me. Or something similar to that. So why don’t you tell me about the band?” At that, Virgil’s eyes lit up in a way Patton hadn’t seen in years.

“Okay, so Glabodos is more of an alternative music band, if Jeremiah mentioned them that’s a good sign he’s a magic user. Their songs are all about mysteries, and one of the lyrics, to their song, Double Edge is: is there anything more mythical than magic.

“However, you can only listen to their music from select sources, this is because allegedly the government is trying to shut them down. They aren’t succeeding, obviously, but they are trying to do so.

“So you can’t find any of their stuff online. However, luckily for us, they’re local to this area! I can take you to see them perform sometime if you want!”

“Sure! That would probably be a good idea before I talk to Jeremiah about them.” Patton smiled at his brother, happy to see him excited about something, anything again.

Their relationship had been rocky for the past few months; both of them stepping on eggshells around each other, neither of them very sure of where they stood. But moments like this, where they weren’t tense, where they were talking to each other, meant everything to Patton, because it meant that he wouldn’t lose his brother ever again. Not if he could help it.

—-----------------------------------------------------

The Glabodos were absolutely horrendous, he didn’t know how Virgil could stand to listen to music like this. It was loud, it was chaotic, and all the notes were just to the side of being on key. Patton had attempted to listen to the lyrics, but he couldn’t focus with all the noise. Still, he watched as his brother was enjoying whatever song the band seemed to be playing.

It was slightly bittersweet, he had never seen his brother be so happy, so carefree. And Patton couldn’t help but feel like it was a punch to the gut of how horrible of a brother he was…

Was he still a horrible brother? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t help but hope that he was better, that he’d been getting better. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he tried to pay attention to the lyrics again, only for the song to end a few seconds later.

“Alright beaks and leaks, that was our final song for the night! If you enjoyed our show we’ll be playing again in the Damp Dennison next week!” The main singer of the band announced, his voice echoing across the room.

The cheers that erupted caused Patton to need to cover his ears. Everyone was ecstatic, including his brother, but all the noise was just too much for him. He didn’t understand the importance because he couldn’t make out the lyrics, and it was just noise upon noise upon noise in his ears. But he needed to stay, to see the smile on his brother’s face. And maybe he would get told later the lyrics that hinted at the person using them being a magic user; plus the twins had mentioned other bands, maybe he’d be able to understand what those ones were singing. Right now, he was just happy that his brother was happy.

—-----------------------------------------------------

“You didn’t like it.”

“That is not what I said!”

“It’s what you meant!”

“They’re a bit… outside of my usual taste is all!” Patton huffed, glaring at Virgil, “Maybe if I could’ve understood what they were saying I’d have enjoyed my time there more. But I couldn’t, so…”

“Whatever. All you need to know is their signature sign off.”

“Beaks and leaks?”

“Yep.”

“Alright,” Patton hummed a bit, before getting the disc Janus had given him out of his drawer. “Thank you for taking me to the concert Virgil. It may not have been my thing, but it was nice seeing you happy.”

“Hm? Yeah, of course. Just don’t let the twins drag you into thinking their bands are better.”

Patton snickered a bit at that, reaching over and ruffling his brother’s hair.

“No promises! I’ve got a movie to watch now, I suppose you’ve seen it already though.”

“Yeah, but it’s a good one, so I’ll watch it again.”

#sanders sides #fanfiction #ts patton #patton sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts logan #logan sanders

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whatgaviiformes · 2 years ago

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Fic: Tracy Seaside Orchard and Farm - Part 9

Summary: Alternate Universe. Gordon is a farmer. And he seems to have nothing to do with International Rescue. Now on AO3!

New to this fic? Please be aware for this story that parts are posted in sections here on tumblr before I upload the chapter to Ao3. You can either select part 8 below before reading this, or select the new Ao3 link for chapter 4 to read the chapter in full.

Hey, hey you! Did you know there’s art of Chicken!Dad? Check out this awesome artwork made by @godsliltippy of our boys in this story, made for the TAG Minibang 2022. I adore them, and Tippy is the greatest and I want to hug all three of you and the hens. Go give her some love for being so awesome. (Chiiiiiiiiiikkeeeeeeen Daaaaaaaad)

Chapter A/N: one more update before I head to vacation the end of this week. Please enjoy farmer’s market day and some more OCs. The boys are making progress. Unfortunately no chickens in this part, so go click the artwork if you need a dose of cute :D

***** (Or Read on Ao3)

Part 9

Everett had the van filled to the ceiling with boxes and crates stacked in an elaborate game of real life Jenga by the time they met up with him, all except the front passenger seat for whomever would be joining them. As discussed, Gordon had messaged and snagged Jules on the way, and she and Virgil were lingering behind him as he finalized the inventory list with Everett. No doubt his brother was learning the ins and out of the Moretti pastries from a primary source.

“Cap, can you fit this last crate of apples in the truck?”

The back of the truck was full and wrapped snuggly with a tarp and bungee cords. Gordon glanced over at Virgil; he hadn’t been moving too stiffly. He could easily carry it on his lap without jostling his ribs. It wasn’t technically lifting as long as he let Everett do the hard work.

“Yep, bring it over.”

Everett was only a bit older than Gordon himself. In many ways he reminded Gordon of a mix between his older brothers, with Virgil’s build, John’s attention to detail, and Scott’s hair color though Everett kept his curls free with the sides shaved. He was as tenacious as all of them, and though his main role was to operate the heavy machinery, he was more than muscle. It had only been a few months since coordinating farmer’s market day, but even before that they knew he was going to be one of the ones that stayed.

Like all of them, he’d been through Hell and back.

“In you get, Virgil,” Gordon called, swinging the passenger door side of the truck open, and leaning in to shift his cane from where it had fallen into a sideways position between the dash and the seat to give Virgil the legroom he’d need.

Once he was settled in the passenger seat with Gordon’s cane pressing against his leg and the seat belt secured with the cushion surrounding it moved down to protect his ribs, Gordon climbed around to the driver’s side.

“Apples?” A head of curly hair peered into the truck from the open passenger door.

“You got this, Virgil?” Gordon asked, and Virgil nodded. “Be honest and tell me if it’s too heavy. We can spare a crate of fruit –“

“No, no. I got it,” Virgil assured him. “Can’t let the future cider donuts down.”

Everett gently passed the crate off to Virgil, resting it on his legs with ease. Virgil tensed beside him, not because of the weight, but with surprise as he caught sight of Everett’s arm scars, quickly schooling his expression back into calm.

“It’s ok.” Everett’s smiled at Gordon over Virgil’s head. “I get that a lot.” He twisted to look down at the crook of his arm, a thoughtful grin, and Lord, Gordon was so proud of him for it, for the smile instead of the self-loathing. “I’ll be clean three years this September,” he beamed at them.

“Congratulations,” Virgil said seriously. “Everett, right? That’s something to be proud of.”

The man smiled. “I am. See you there, Cap.”

He gently closed the door, and Virgil spun as quickly as he could, which wasn’t quickly at all, to his brother.

“Why do they do that?”

Gordon turned the key and revved the engine, pulling out of the drive to lead them into town. “Do what?”

“Call you Cap? Everett and Jules both do it. The only one that knows you as anything different is Scraps.”

“That’s not true,” Gordon insisted. “The chickens know me as Dad. It sounds very similar to the squawk that means food.” When his joke fell flat, earning nothing but a raised brow, Gordon sighed, “Tough crowd.”

He paused, content to just let it sit, but Virgil was still watching him intently.

“I didn’t ask for it, you know. It just kind of happened.”

“Gordon,” Virgil prodded.

“Captain, okay? It’s short for Captain,” He squeezed the wheel in front of him. “I don’t even know who started it anymore. But one day it got around I used to be in WASP, used to sail, and it kind of stuck. At first it was the way folks use the title ‘Boss’ at TI, then eventually it just became my nickname and got shorted along the way to just Cap.”

Their turn was coming up.

He spared a glance at his brother as he turned the wheel, adding, “I’ve always preferred that. I tried telling them I’d only made it to sub-lieutenant. But it didn’t seem to matter.”

“They respect you.”

“I respect them,” he countered.

“Sounds like the makings of a good captain to me.”

“You have—” The words stick in his throat. He was about to say you have to say that; you’re my brother. But in truth, he didn’t really know where he stood with Virgil. Out of all of them, Virgil was the one sibling that didn’t have to say anything about him at all. Watching the road, he coughed, “You have some hay in your hair.”

“Thanks.” He gave his head a shake, carding his fingers through the dark strands. “We should go sometime.”

“Hm?”

“Sailing. You said you used to sail. It’s obvious you’ve spared little time for yourself. So we should go.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, his heart thundering in his chest.

The morning sun glinted off the rearview mirror from the van behind them, bass thumping from the radio turned up high and rumbling both vehicles. He grinned, waving Virgil towards the radio dials in the truck and giving him full control to either find a way to drown out the others or challenge them.

____________________________

Gordon navigated the narrow streets of the main town like he wasn’t driving a truck large enough that the one set of wheels hugged the center line. Once they arrived at the location of the market, he backed into a non-marked spot in the grass near where they set up their booth every week, with Everett and Jules sliding into an imaginary spot beside him.

A few other stalls were already there setting up as well.

Before Virgil could maneuver his way out of the truck, Everett was there taking the crate out of his grasp, and Gordon was grateful for his intervention.

“Uh-huh. Jules and I got this.”

Gordon hopped out of the truck, swinging around to the passenger side to help Virgil out and then to grab his cane. He handed Virgil a couple bills and pointed out the café along the main strip of town and sent him off to grab another coffee for himself, as it was going to be a long morning.

It gave him enough time to locate and set up the four collapsible outdoor chairs and offer the one he usually used for himself to Virgil once he returned. It sat a bit higher off the ground than the others and had some cushioning to better support his back, but considering the ribs, Virgil would need it more than him. At least today.

“Did you study our prices?” Gordon asked him from the other chair while the others continued to unload, happily accepting the latte Virgil had acquired for him. Virgil waved his phone to show Gordon the digital file he’d sent him the night before.

“Yes, just reviewing again.”

“Good. It can move fast. Time to put that engineering math to good use.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured him. “I used to work retail, remember? This can’t be as hard as working movie theater concessions as a teenager.”

Gordon grinned, knowing their list of inventory was much larger than the popcorn, candy, and drinks of a movie theater. “You say that now. And I do remember. I remember that you hated that job.”

“I came home smelling like butter. Wouldn’t you?”

“Nope!” And Gordon could admit the truth to that statement. Movie theater popcorn was second only to salted caramel in his opinion.

They were interrupted by the first visitors soon after. Surrounding them were booths of other vendors, the promised pastry strands, rows of craft vendors with yarn product and homemade jewelry and custom printed totes, locally made dog treats, and flower stands, and antiques and collectibles. The Tracy Seaside Farm and Orchard represented themselves mostly as a produce stand, but they carried a selection as well of their fresh local honey and honey-based snacks. As long as it was packaged well and unopened – and they had no problems so far – they brought along a small inventory of Gordon’s mead and wine. They favored their animals over pressing for food production, which meant that they did carry some eggs and milk for the farmer’s market, but it was only what little excess they had left over after supplying the estate.

Gordon preferred it that way, and he knew there were other farms that could fill the need. But in the meantime, it meant they had an early rush of regulars swinging by their stand first to check their wares. Because early on it was a one stop shop.

With this early rush, Everett and Jules both manned their U shaped set up, with Everett taking the checkout while Jules swung the customers around her produce sales pitch before passing them along to Virgil in case they wanted any of Gordon’s artisan products. Gordon himself stood by the entrance, greeting their visitors, answering any questions, and directing them to Jules or Virgil based on what he knew about them.

“Over there Ms. Mayfield,” he told an older lady. “The one that looks like a lumberjack.” He smirked as she waved her hand over her face catching sight of his older brother.

“Thank you, deary. My, my aren’t I a lucky gal!”

“That you are Ms. Mayfield,” he smiled at Virgil, gathering items for another customer. “He’s one of the best. Just don’t go poking at him, please!”

“I wouldn’t dare, dear boy!” She gleamed, white curls bouncing on her head as she hobbled away from him.

One the first rush was over, Gordon shifted back behind the booth, thanking the other three for their help, and relieving Everett to peruse the stands to give him a break for all his hard work preparing for the event. Everett’s job started the night before, and there were aspects of this job that Gordon just couldn’t do on his own with his leg. Everett never complained once for the amount of hard labor that came from loading and unloading the vehicles.

Right before the second rush he returned, donut in hand and waving it teasingly towards a drooling Jules.

“Soon, you pastry fiend,” Gordon laughed, swatting at her grabby hands as Everett slid around to take over. “Give it an hour, and you and Virgil can both go.” His brother had been working hard through that morning, trying his best to learn quickly, to adapt to the fast pace of the market, and stay on his feet whenever possible. Virgil’s best was always above and beyond, and Gordon glanced over to where he was taking a breather in the chair and swiping a shaky hand along his brow.

He handed them both a honey stick from the mason jar by their check out. “To hold you over.”

If they weren’t about to be slammed, he would’ve relieved them sooner. But the natural sugar, if anything, would perk them up. He grabbed one for himself too and threw one over to Everett.

They made it through the mid-market rush, all four of them. Sweaty and exhausted with the sun starting to beam down on them.

Everett gave a nod, and Gordon sent the other two off to venture out as promised. Jules linked her arm around Virgil’s, leading him directly towards the Moretti’s, and already waving emphatically to the family behind the booth that knew her well.

He was in good hands.

Gordon shook his head, pulling his gaze away, and trying to distract himself with re-stocking some of the wine on the table to replace where their sales had left spaces.

“Cap?” A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down for a bit? You didn’t take your usual morning break either.”

He shrugged, his hand trembling. “Virgil needed me.”

“And you need to sit.” He pressed the cane into Gordon’s grasp and pointed to the chair Virgil had vacated. “It’ll be slow from here on out. You can help from over there. Do you need food or water?”

He shook his head honestly and listened to his friend, sitting to regain the strength to finish out the day and drive them home. His heart light, his body heavy and rebelling but capable by the time Virgil and Jules returned, arms laden with goodies from both the food stalls and jewelry booths in Jules’ case and the antique stall in Virgil’s.

“I’m going to make a radio!” It looked like a pile of junk, but Virgil’s smile was so bright that Gordon had to cover his eyes from the glint of the sun.

It left a pang of hurt in his chest, for he hadn’t seen that smile in ages.

#Gavii Scribit #Fic: TSOF #Faming Estate AU #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Thunderbirds fanfiction

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sidespart · 4 years ago

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The Fall of King Romulus

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

This was originally a fake fic but I decided to turn it into a real fic because it looked like fun, The fake fic can be read as a prologue.

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Chapter 1

Previous (prologue) Next Chapter 2

When Roman had first left home, he had no intention of making friends.

Romulus had never had them, unless you counted Remus in their younger days. Royal life was often one of seclusion and once his… particular problem… had come to light, his parents took the necessary steps to ensure he was as isolated from others as possible.

This was for his own good. Romulus could not protect himself. Romulus was a liability to the himself and the Kingdom. One slip before a supposed playmate could lead to discovery and disaster. His father explained this to him when Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy when the family visited the palace.

“Suppose that boy notices,” his fathers voice was a hiss, his hand gripping Romulus small shoulder hard enough to bruise “suppose he realises you will do anything he asks, and he asks you for family secrets? Suppose he waits until your are older and orders you to favour his family, to give them position in court, to promote them above their deserved station- or to harm their enemies. Do you understand the risk you’re taking Romulus? Swear to me you will keep to yourself. Please.”

Phrasing, Romulus had come to learn, was extraordinarily important when dealing with his curse. The final ‘please’ from his father had turned the order into a request – something Romulus could technically choose to ignore. But the grip on his shoulder suggested it would not remain his choice for long. So he nodded at his father and swore to keep away and was rewarded with a smile and a hand stroking gently though his hair, before he was dismissed to go and study before his afternoon lessons.

He should have been lonely. But he had his parents and his instructors and his servants. And the occasional, highly orchestrated, public appearance wherein he would adopt a practiced air of aloof politeness, wave and make measured conversation with those who would never dare to give him an order. It could have been worse.

Still, he understood that once he left it would be necessary to speak to many more people then he had up to now. He would need food and shelter and work and direction, none of which he had had to procure for himself before.

So he prepared himself to make conversation with strangers, perhaps acquire acquaintances. He expected to find admirers once he was far South enough that he could perform with his lute without fear of recognition from the crowd. He hoped, perhaps, for some romances, some temporary but dashing companions to join him on adventures. He had read about such things during hours spent locked up in the palace library and told to entertain himself.

He had not planned on making friends. Traveling with anyone for too long, getting to know them and allowing them to learn about him – it inevitably increased the chance of them discovering his secret. Of exploiting him as his parents had warned against. It was not worth the risk.

And yet.

And yet somehow, he had acquired three.

Virgil and Patton and Logan.

Brave and kind and wise.

Not a drop of aristocratic blood between them but without doubt the most noble companions a man could wish for. When he thought of them, of how they had accepted him into their little band of misfit adventurers, his heart felt more full, his mind more alive and sharp than it had been in years. His blood buzzed with creativity and songs of friendship, love and loyalty sprang from his lips almost unbidden.

Not right now however.

Right now sort of wanted to kill them. Specifically Virgil.

Roman scowled at the surrounding trees “If there are any depressingly dressed half elves out there who want to APPOLOGISE for being JERKS the floor is open!” he called.

The trees remained silent. They had done that the last three times he tried.

Roman left out a dramatic exhale and flopped back on the ground.

The thing was. He knew, intellectually, that this wasn’t Virgil’s fault. Not Intentionally.

Virgil was prickly. And unpredictable. Last night, Roman had wailed in dismay at the sorry state for a fire the young man was building. Virgil had responded that they would be lucky if there was no fire at all, since that would mean no one would have to be subjected to Romans cooking. Roman had insulted Virgil’s hair. Virgil had made a creative suggestion for where Roman could stick the firewood he was holding. And back and forth the insults went until between them they had built up the fire and set the stew boiling upon it.

It was banter. Virgil had been giggling the whole time, Patton hadn’t interjected once to tell them to be nicer.

And then this evening they’d gone hunting for firewood together. And Roman had made some sly remark, hoping that Virgil’s fire building skills had improved somewhat overnight.

And Virgil had turned round and snarled at him to “shut UP Princy. I don’t need you to help me �� just, just get lost.”

Virgil didn’t know about the curse.

Romans mouth had dropped open in surprise. And before he’s had time to close it, his feet had spun round one hundred and eighty degrees and marched him away from his friend, away from the path, deeper into the heart of the forest.

His feat had carried him on a winding route, over one shallow stream and through an extremely dense thicket of brambles that left Roman desperately hacking away at the thorns in front of him before they could shred him to ribbons. He had eventually stopped after an hour of relentless marching and sprawled at the foot of an impressively knotted oak tree.

Unsurprisingly, his surroundings were totally unfamiliar. The trees grew so thick here it was impossible to see more than twelve feet in any direction. He was well and truly lost.

Roman had spent an unsatisfying few minutes ranting to the trees about elves and their unpredictable mood swings and marching and blisters and curses and Virgil’s still subpar fire lighting skills until eventually he had run out of steam and settled himself down for a good sulk.

Phrasing was important. Virgil had told him to get lost but he hadn’t said to stay lost. And now that he was lost, there was nothing to prevent him being found again.

Patton was an excellent tracker. The idea of sitting around waiting to be rescued stung Roman’s pride, but his feat had already been aching from the days travel before his unintended march. His stomach growled, the smattering of cuts from the brambles burned, and evening was already turning to night. The most sensible thing to do was for Roman to stay where he was and wait to be found.

Assuming they wanted to find him.

Roman bit his lip sharply to try and banish that line of thought. They wouldn’t leave him.

Although, he drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees to fend off the evening chill, There was a strong chance they wouldn’t find him tonight. Patton had looked exhausted when Virgil and Roman and left on their hunt for firewood, in fact he’d been falling behind all day and –

Oh.

Patton and Virgil were born in Krutova and Finaley’ed respectively. Two small neighbouring kingdoms, politically insignificant and famous only for their densely forested landscapes and their intense dedication to wiping each other off the face of the Earth. For the past eighteen years bloody war had raged between the two. Roman had never asked directly, but he was fairly certain that this conflict was where Patton had acquired his enormous broadsword, his limp and, quite possibly, Virgil.

Neither of them liked forests. They carried extra tension as soon as they stood under the shadows of the trees. In addition to that, the uneven terrain aggravated Patton’s hip, sometimes leaving him hissing between his teeth with every step.

Roman had been walking up front with Logan all day, arguing the merits of modern Raspanzean poetry compared with the old masters. He had thought they had called a halt to the day a little early, but was tired enough himself not to question it. And really, since he and Virgil had been on fire and cooking duty last night it should have fallen to the others today…but Virgil had scampered into the woods as soon as Patton was settled on his bed roll, and Roman had gone chasing after.

Virgil fretted. He fretted after all of them, but Patton most of all. And Roman had chased after him when he was already stressed about his best friend and then started needling him about his fire making skills.

Roman groaned and pressed his face into his knees.

Maybe he was the jerk.

“It sounds like it.”

Roman sighed, hating the whine in his voice as he replied “but he still shouldn’t have taken it out on –“

Romans head snapped up so fast he hit his skull hard against the oak tree behind him. Wincing he twisted his head left and right, but the area remained deserted.

He frowned. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he thought –

“You certainly are over tired little Prince,” Roman made a sound which he refused to think of as a shriek and scrambled to his feet.

Standing not three feet- two feet – five feet- three feet from him, stood – hovered - sat – stood a figure in – black – yellow- black – shadow – gold - black. He- she – it – he? Laughed sweetly and stepped – slunk – prowled – flew – stepped closer

And drew back abruptly as Roman held up his dagger between them.

Roman’s sword was the best he could buy, made of blended steel with a bronze handle. He cleaned and sharpened it religiously and practiced often. It was beautifully made and perfectly balanced, suitable for a solider but ideal for a traveller in who knew how to use it.

Romans dagger was old and brittle. And more than once Logan had tried to surreptitiously throw it out and convince him to replace it with something usable.

But it was made of pure iron and it kept the scowling fae at bay.

Looking directly at the fae made something in Romans stomach twist. But he kept his eyes at a squint and held the dagger firm between them, even as his arms shook from the effort.

“What do you want from me?” he gritted out

“What do I want?” The fae’s face would not quite settle, the edges shifting and billowing, but when he smiled Roman was certain he saw fangs “You’re the one trespassing in my home, little Prince, I should be asking you”

Suddenly the fae was as close as he could come, his face less than an inch from the daggers edge. Up close, Roman could see two eyes clearly, one black and one pulsating with a sickly yellow light. “Come to make a deal with the devil, Princey?”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut and held himself firm, even as the shaking began to spread over his entire body.

“I am. A. Lost. Traveller.” He gasped out “I. mean. No. disrespect. To you. Or. Your court” for what felt like an eternity the shaking continued, rattling his brain and sending one knee crashing to the floor. And then it stopped.

Hesitantly, Roman cracked one eye open and looked up. The fae had, mercifully, settled its form. It had picked a face identical to Romans own, save for the yellow eye and scales that spread over its left side. A cloak of shadows hid most of its body from view, but when it moved towards Roman now it seemed to slither rather than step.

“You mean no disrespect” it nodded towards the dagger still clutched in Roman’s sweaty hands “but your bring a weapon to my home?”

“it is a shield, my lord, not a sword, despite it’s shape”

The fae harrumphed, a disconcertingly human noise, and circled Roman once. “You’re not from around here.”

“I’m lost, my lord.”

“I know that” The fae stopped in front of Roman again and rolled it’s eyes. “I meant you are not one of the town folk who trespass in my wood so regularly. You know how to speak to me.”

Roman opened his mouth to say ‘in my fathers Kingdom the Fae are welcomed, and representatives of the Saelie court attend each ball and function’ but managed to snap it closed before he made a sound. Rule one for dealing with the Fae, even those considered allies, was not to give them any information that they didn’t already know. “You flatter me my lord” he said instead.

Roman still hadn’t moved from his half kneeling pose and now the fae coiled down so that they were once again face to face. “Most humans in your position” he said, “would have already started begging for a deal to relive them of their…little problems. What’s the matter Princey, curse got your tongue?”

Roman couldn’t help the way his heart rate sped up at the faes words. But he did his best to keep his outward face calm. It was true, the first deliberate order he had received when his curse was discovered was to never talk about it, he couldn’t have brought it up to this fae if he wanted to.

But more than that – the fae who allied themselves with his father’s court had done everything in their power to remove the curses from him and his brother. Nothing had worked. “A gift once given can only be taken back by the gifter” an elder sprite in the guise of a kindly woman had told his mother. “And their gifter is unlikely to return here.”

The gifter was also unlikely to be a snake shaped creature tied to a southern forest. “I want nothing from you my lord, except to be allowed to leave your home” Roman intoned honestly. He had wondered, for a moment, when the creature had called him Princey – but Virgil and the others often called him by that nickname. If this was a lord of the forest he could have heard them when they passed by.

The fae stared at him for a long moment. And smiled. “Liar.”

Roman frowned – “what-“

“Roman!”

Roman jerked his head to the side, the shout had come from close by, he was sure. “Pa-Padre?”

A whisper in his ear: “time to go home Roman.” Roman quickly looked back to the fae, but it was gone. On the ground where it had been, lay a single oak leaf dyed a brilliant, autumnal, yellow.

He didn’t need to look up at the oak trees leaves to know they, like every other tree in the forest, were still a vibrant green.

“Roman! Roman are you here?”

Without much conscious thought, he reached forward and snatched up the yellow leaf, burying it deep in his pocket.

“I’M HERE. Patton? Virgil? I’M OVER HERE”

Within minuets all seven foot of Patton was crashing through the tree line and baring down on him, Virgil not far behind.

“Roman, oh my goodness we were so worried! Are you hurt? Can you stand? Why do you have your dagger – did something happen?”

“Princy! Shit are you – are you okay? I am so, - I’m really- We looked EVERYWHERE“

“I’m fine.” Roman promised ‘Its fine’ he added to Virgil, “I just – I figured you needed some space so I tried looking for wood on the other side of camp. Guess I got a little turned around” He allowed Patton to pull him to his feet, giving them both his best sheepish grin. Embarrassed but ready to laugh at himself. He really had got lost. Silly Roman.

It’s not like he could tell them about the curse.

“We’re not the far from camp” Patton told him, he glanced around frowning slightly “I’m sure we searched through here before.”

“I was trying to make my own way back,” Roman lied easily “I probably ended up walking in a circle and missed you.”

It’s not like there was any point telling them about the fae.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine Pat, what about you? How’s your leg?”

“Oh this old thing?” Patton gave them a wide smile “it’s just fine, Ro, don’t you worry. Now I think I know a short cut back, you two follow close to me alright?” and with that the large man spun round and headed into the trees.

Virgil and Roman shared an exasperated glance. The man was clearly in agony.

“Listen, Princy I-“

“I’m sorry too.” Roman cut him off. Bumped his shoulder against Virgil’s and winked. “Now lets get back to camp before Logan paces a trench in to the ground hm?”

Slowly Virgil nodded, although he was still staring at Roman guiltily. The two of them headed into the trees together, collected Patton from where he was half collapsed against an elm, and the three slowly made their way back to camp.

By the time they were explaining what had happened to Logan, the memory of the fae had faded like mist.

With a days more travel they would be out of the forest and on a path to Steveange. The largest and greatest city of the Central Kingdoms. From there they would have to chose whether to head east, towards the coast line, west to catch the merchant festivals or north, where Roman had always refused to travel.

Stuck between two pages of Romans notebook, a unseasonably yellowed oak leaf shivered.

Time to go home.

#sanders sides fic #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #but not in this chapter #creativitwins #sidespart writes #TS: Fall of Romulus

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tsarinatorment · 3 years ago

Note

TAG Ask game: 11 and 19 for John please. 🙏

More questions! Questions make me happy, thanks for asking :D

TAG Ask Game

11. Do you take a position on the birth order debate?

Yup - for me, John is second-eldest, with Virgil middle child, and that's always how I write it (aside from when I dabble in @gumnut-logic's Marks&Wings universe, because Nutty has them the other way around).

I've got a few reasons for this - one is the opening credits. I like patterns, and logic orders, so if the opening credits aren't in Thunderbird order, then surely they must be in age order, yes? - or so my brain says (I've heard people say the order is Thunderbird importance, but then, as much as I love her, why is TB1 first? It should be TB5 or TB2 - receiving distress call or most flexible/heavy lifter). John's also always just felt older to me - in fact, when I was really young and first saw TOS, I thought John was the oldest and had a bit of a crisis when I found out it was Scott! I can't actually picture John as a middle child (although I admit I can see how Virgil could be second eldest... John's the sticking point for me on that one, so John's the one I will always see as second).

This doesn't mean I won't read or interact with fanworks that have them the other way around - I won't tell other people how they should interpret it - but you just won't find the flipside in my stuff.

(Fun fact, I did consider having either the TOS or TAG order flipped in Long Way From Home in order to cause maximum differentiation, but decided against it in the end because it would have just confused me, and I am all for confusing Scott but I draw the line at me)

19. Give me a character and I'll give you a headcanon

Character given: John Tracy

Observant people will have noticed this one in my fics, and I don't think I'm particularly quiet about it, but:

The only person John will consistently allow physical contact from at any time is Scott.

A large part of this is because Scott is his big brother and even John finds comfort from that sometimes. He also knows Scott won't abuse that trust and will respect his personal space, so he only gets hugs when Scott knows he wants it, and not just because Scott wants him to (he does, however, offer hugs to any of his brothers if they're feeling down, because he knows it helps them).

This little headcanon came into being after I rewatched Slingshot several times and started fangirling over the fact that when John's upset and self-blaming, Scott's got his arm around his shoulders and is guiding him to the sofa, which is, I believe, the only time until The Long Reach that we see John in that sort of physical contact with anyone else. I like to think Scott met him in the hangar and held him all the way to the den, where we then see him let go once they reach the sofa.

#thunderbirds are go #john tracy #ask game #alexthefly

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

Callisto (Fallout - Bit 1)

Prologue Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 Fallout - Bit 1

I am continuing to write this. It hit 7000 words yesterday, but I have since yanked 700 words out of that and am now rewriting...currently at 6988 :D part Two has been started, but I haven’t added to the Prologue yet. Still need to write that. But! There has been writing :D

Many, many continuing thanks to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for the buckets of support they have been providing me with. And they have been giving me soooo much! There have been moments of Nutty going but, but, but...and then needing to rewrite the section. This definitely wouldn’t be what it is without these guys. They’re working hard :D

And thank you to all the amazing peeps who have commented, reblogged and liked this fic. Your support is amazing. Thunderfam rocks big time. ::massive group hug::

Here be a little bit more (another 1200 words). Warnings for one swear word. Gordon was a little upset.

I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared up at his father.

How? How could he do this?

Virgil stood between Scott and Dad, a muddy and dirty physical barrier if anything. He was more brown than green or blue.

Their father’s lips tightened. “Language, Virgil.”

Virgil’s frown intensified. “Explain to me why you want to go into space. What’s the emergency?”

John cleared his throat. “Virgil, it’s Callisto. Aunt Berry and Ju have gone missing.”

Dark eyes blinked. “What happened?”

“Graeme reports they disappeared off sensors while on an exploratory mission two days ago. He needs our help.”

A glance at both his eldest brother and father before focussing on the latter. “Let Alan and Scott handle it.”

“No.”

Even from a distance, Gordon could see the fire in his father’s grey eyes.

“Why not?”

His father swallowed and shifted his stance, his cane scratching the floor. “It’s Berry and Ju, Virgil.”

As if that explained everything.

“And you don’t trust Scott and Alan to do the job.”

Typical Virgil, cut to the chase. Scott shifted behind him.

Dad moved too as if he had itching powder under his skin. “I need to do this.” An exasperated sound. “We were a team. We were the team. Berry, Ju, Lee and me.”

“Callisto is weeks away. You’d be risking a serious health relapse tolerating zero-g for that length of time. I can’t allow it and Grandma will back me up.”

Dad straightened at that and took a step closer to Virgil, their height difference as stark as the anger in their father’s eyes.

Virgil stood his ground and Gordon bit the inside of his cheek.

“We can use the Excel!” John’s voice was uncharacteristically harried. “She’s ready for her first space run. We can be there and back in a matter of days.”

Every eye turned to stare at the hologram in the middle of the room. Scott’s expression shifted from shock to fury. “John? What the hell?”

Their astronaut brother didn’t flinch. “He’s going to go anyway. At least we can minimise the impact.”

Virgil rounded on his younger brother, eyes wide under his frown, betrayal an obvious component. “We can’t risk it. This is Dad’s health.”

Dad flared. “This is my decision.” He turned to John. “She’s ready?”

John shrugged. “As you know, Brains, Alan and Michael have taken her to the moon and back with no issues. They are itching to try a longer trip.” John opened his hands. “Besides taking Thunderbird Five and all her scanning equipment would be to our advantage. We will find them.” There was the same fire in John’s eyes that was in their father’s.

The anger emanating off Scott was a physical thing. Virgil still had his hand on their eldest brother’s shoulder, but his fist was now catching uniform material and pulling it tight.

Their father either failed to notice, or just simply ignored them. “John, begin preparations for launch.”

John’s eyes darted to Scott.

The commander’s lips thinned, his expression set ready to obliterate anything or anyone who stepped in his way.

But he nodded.

Just once.

It was obvious the argument was far from over.

John’s ‘FAB’ was short and sharp as he flickered out.

Gordon did not want to be in the astronaut’s shoes the next time he crossed paths with Scott. Space bro was on a trajectory to becoming space dust.

Gordon felt inclined to help pulverise him.

But his father was still standing there defiant, eyes now pinned on Scott as the most obvious source of opposition.

Gordon shifted, dropping the shit in his hands to the floor with a clatter.

Three sets of eyes shot in his direction.

Gordon glared at his father. “I cannot believe this.” He felt Virgil’s betrayal and Scott’s anger like a vibrating echo of his own. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“Excuse me?” Dad had the nerve to sound offended.

Stepping up from the lounge, he pushed between his brothers and his father, stalking into the older man’s personal space.

He pinned him with his eyes. “How can you do this?”

“Gordon-“ Virgil grabbed at his arm, but he shook the hand off and squared his shoulders.

Grey eyes scorched him where he stood. “Do you have something to say, son?”

Again with the ‘son’. Not as a familial noun, more as a rank.

“Un-fucking-believe-able!”

“Gordon!” Scott’s voice was sharp.

Gordon ignored him.

“How can you do this…to him?!” He shoved a finger in Scott’s direction and barely registered his brother stepping back as if it was a gun.

“Gordon!” This time it was Virgil. Virgil, ever the protector.

“No, Virg. I’ve had it. He can’t do this to Scott. He can’t.”

“Do what?” His father’s voice was so sharp, long ago reflexes had Gordon straightening where he stood despite everything.

“Can’t you see it?!” It itched under his skin, the anger, the outrage, trying to get out. “You’re hurting him!”

Gordon had spent the last few years watching his eldest brother walk a road of pain. It started with Gordon’s own injuries and his long recovery, combined with the hunt for their father. He had seen Scott wade through shit before, but he had never seen him that desperate, that driven, that hurting.

And then they had found Dad. The relief had been immense. But not all stories had perfect endings. There were health issues, there were more worries, more moments where they thought they might not have rescued all their father, that he might not recover everything or, at one point, anything at all.

Hell.

There was no other word.

And now their father was safe. Things had settled. There were still challenges, but Dad was safe.

Except now he was willing to throw it all away. All their hard work and his eldest son’s sanity. All for a joyride.

A hand clamped down on Gordon’s bicep and pulled him back. There was no shaking this one off. It was followed by an arm wrapping around his chest, a combination of restraint and comfort.

Virgil’s wrist controller poked through the thin material of Gordon’s shirt. “Gords, c’mon.” Worried, but quiet.

Gordon only had eyes for his father. The man’s mouth was partly open, his eyes wide, and for a second Gordon thought that perhaps his point had sunk in.

But those eyes narrowed. “I do what needs to be done, Gordon. I always have.” His father’s voice was cold.

Gordon’s heart broke. Voice ever so quiet. “Yeah. Yeah, Dad, you always have.”

The arm around his chest tightened as Virgil exhaled behind him.

There was no sound from Scott.

Dad’s cane tapped on the hardwood. “Begin preparations. We leave as soon as possible. We can debrief in flight.” With that he turned back to his desk in obvious dismissal.

Gordon growled deep in his throat.

But Virgil had him in a vice grip and was dragging him towards the elevator. Gordon vaguely registered that Virgil’s other arm ended in a fist knotted in Scott’s uniform.

Still Scott said nothing.

He was shoved into an elevator car and as the doors closed, Virgil let him go.

The second eldest slumped against the elevator wall, leaving smears of mud on the silver metal.

No one said anything.

Shock was the only word.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Jeff Tracy #John Tracy #Scott Tracy #callisto

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fallenfurther · 3 years ago

Text

TAG Minibang 2021

I had the pleasure of being partnered with @godsliltippy for the @tagminibang.

Click here to see @godsliltippy's amazing picture which goes with this fic, in which Scott and Gordon spend some time together on Thunderbird Four. I had great fun putting these two in a confined space and I hope you enjoy what came about. Enjoy!

The Refresher

Scott slipped the box of food rations into the compartment next to a large unopened box of celery crunch bars. He rolled his eyes knowing there were more scattered throughout the craft. He wondered how many of the fresh supplies his brother would consume with his favourite alternative present. Virgil had expressed concern on more than one occasion about Gordon's diet on extended underwater expeditions, but Scott tried not to pry too much. The aquanaut never seemed to suffer any ill effects. The man in question strode into the submarine with a grin and air of authority, tapping the button to close the airlock without a backwards glance. The mechanism clicking into place, sealing them in.

"Ready to learn the ropes?" Gordon cheered, eagerly rubbing his gloved hands together.

"It's a refresher course with a small mapping expedition for the Environmental Agency added on."

"Trust me Scott, this baby is nothing like Thunderbird One. She handles better, is calmer and still nippy when required. I'll be taking her out first, I want to get her there on schedule and in one piece."

Scott sighed, wanting to quip back about how he was the one who always brought her back in pieces, but knew it was still too raw for his brother. Shutting the compartment, with a little more force than necessary, he followed Gordon into the cockpit and sat in the temporary seat behind the man. His eyes scanned the area and he was pleased to see no wrappers on the floor. Kayo had warned them about the mess after her last excursion in Thunderbird Four, however they were all aware of what Gordon was like. It was nice to see he had tidied up beforehand, so at least Scott would only have to deal with fresh mess. The aquanaut started running through the prelaunch checks, and Scott ticked each one off his mental checklist. The submarine jolted as the mechanism started to lower them into the water tank and the exit hatch came into view. The lock disengaged, the doors opened before them as the submarine's engines started to rumble behind them. The vibrations grew as the pitch changed and the machine propelled itself forward.

"Thunderbird Four is go!"

"FAB," John responded, "try not to kill him, Scott."

Scott grinned while Gordon feigned hurt, a hand leaving the controls to cover his heart. It was a running family joke, all of them having been cooped up with Gordon at some point. Although Alan swore blind their trip to Europa was the worst, but at least Thunderbird Three was large enough to have some mild privacy and space. Everything was pokey on Thunderbird Four, particularly the toilet. It thankfully had a privacy screen but there was barely enough room to stand up, let alone unzip their uniforms. It probably explained why John had been graced with Gordon's bottom on his last refresher. Why use a screen when you're the only one on board, was Gordon's response. When John had pointed out his own presence Gordon had said he was making John feel more at home by showing him the moon. John did report that Gordon had used the screen for the rest of their trip. Scott hoped he would be spared the same treatment. Sitting back, Scott observed his brother at the controls as they entered the open ocean. The sonar gently flashed to Gordon's left, relaying occasional glimpses of hazards and giving a reasonably detailed map of the sea bed. The little yellow arrow that indicated their craft stayed steady on the red line of the plotted course. It crossed Scott's mind that they would have been at their destination by now had they been on Thunderbird One. Rolling his shoulders, Scott sat back, stretched his feet out before him and tried to relax. It was going to be a long first day.

The morning was interspersed with sporadic bouts of chatter from Gordon. Scott smiled as he listened, making the right noises and offering his opinions when required. He didn't share his brother's enthusiasm for the sea, but had great respect for his knowledge and experience as Gordon identified the various creatures which passed the craft. With one of Four's tablets in his lap, Scott inputted the sightings into the database alongside the GPS coordinates, ready to be submitted after the trip was complete. There was no need to report them straight away and to do so would give away Thunderbird Four's position and possibly bring unwanted attention. John and EOS monitored many websites where enthusiasts shared their Thunderbird sightings, marking possible hot spots on maps and predicting flight paths. Apparently there had been many meetups, a few of which had successfully predicted a Thunderbird sighting. EOS was certain it was coincidental, but precautions were taken after a holidaying oceanographer tracked Thunderbird Four down using Gordon's data. International Rescue promptly stopped submitting data, instead switching between five umbrella accounts. This trip's data was being submitted by Dippy, the personal deep water submarine of Doctor R Yang. Scott hadn't been too impressed with Gordon's suggestion of Doctor Angry, but EOS had suggested Doctor R Yang as a suitable plausible alternative and assured him that would be unlikely to be questioned. Gordon also managed to wrangle a sea themed one as well, much to Scott's displeasure.

Scott retrieved lunch, eating his first before taking the helm. His hand slipped into the holds, his body shifting at the unfamiliarity of the position. Pulling on the controls the machine continued on. Scott's eyes were glued to the sonar, adjusting the propulsion when the craft deviated from course.

"Relax, Scott. You're making it harder on yourself. Small subtle adjustments is all you need." Gordon butted in after the seventh course correction in the ten minutes Scott had been piloting. "There are no flight paths to worry about. A little deviation from the line isn't going to hurt and EOS will even autocorrect it if you stray too far."

Scott loosened his grip on the controls, allowing the blood to run back into his white knuckles. His shoulders slumped. Why was it so different to pilot Thunderbird Four when on a rescue? He swore it was never this hard, or maybe he just never noticed how tense he was or the small things he was doing wrong. The memory of Gordon instructing him from Tracy Island when retrieving the escape pod came to mind. Taking a deep breath, Scott twisted the controls, taking a large arch to get back on course.

"I know you fly Thunderbird One blind, but you should be able to look up and out the window while steering Thunderbird Four. You'll be surprised by what you can see, especially on a leisure journey like this."

"This is a training exercise."

"Exactly, it's for practicing. There's no rush. We have time to get you feeling relaxed at the helm, to let you learn the way she feels and responds."

Scott sat back, making the most of the ergonomic seat, knowing that Gordon was right. Knowing he'd said the same thing when he'd been refreshing Gordon on Thunderbird One. Despite his carefree joking nature, Gordon knew when to be serious and he had tensed up at the controls of Thunderbird One. Virgil had pointed out later that night that just Scott's presence watching would have put Gordon off. Much like Alan tried to please, putting in his all to prove his worth, there were still times when Gordon wanted to impress his older brother and not let him down. Thankfully, a few hours in the sky, and some practice launching and descending had Gordon handling Thunderbird One with ease. Pride had filled Scott, seeing how well Gordon had recovered from his injuries and how easily he slipped back into International Rescue. His younger brother had a unique way of bouncing back and his resilience made him seem indestructible.

Scott flicked his attention back to the here and now. His hands still grasped the controls a little too firmly, but he started flicking his eyes between the projection and water around them. To his untrained eye, the lamps barely illuminated anything and there was nothing to see. Gordon however seemed to spot things he couldn't. By the end of the journey, Scott's arms were aching from the consistent outstretched position and was thankful when Gordon took over. Rolling his shoulders and stretching out his arms, he took the seat behind Gordon. In Thunderbird One there was no need for stamina as she was never in flight for long. Clicking his shoulder brought some relief.

"You'll get used to it," Gordon responded to the sound.

Scott rolled his eyes knowing too well he would never be in Thunderbird Four long enough to become used to it. It was one long training dive a year, with day refreshers as and when required. Gordon guided the craft towards the surface. Finally Scott could see clearly through the glass. Before them was a vast coastline that contained various caves that required remapping. They were a long way from the nearest city, though the nearest settlement wasn't much closer. Gordon guided the submarine along until they came to the buoy which marked the entrance to the caves. Submerging again, Gordon spiralled them around the buoy's line until they were fifteen meters down before clamping onto the metal cable. A light flashed green.

"All secure. Let's grab some grub before turning in. I know it's early but I know you barely slept thanks to that rescue."

Scott was about to complain when he yawned. Gordon was right, he had barely slept the night before, having run around after the rescue getting everything ready for this trip. Scott followed his brother out the back, ducking through the hatch.

"I bet times like these you wished Thunderbird Four was as spacious as Stingray."

Scott chanced the conversation. Since the hydrofoil accident Gordon had been less forthcoming with details about his time in WASP. It had bonded them at first, Scott's military service giving him an understanding about what Gordon was going through, with his younger brother messaging him for advice on occasion. It frizzled out towards the end as they both got busy, something Scott regretted. Gordon paused, but gave his brother a grin as he grabbed two ration packs from the box Scott had brought.

"Nah. Sure, you get your own room, but you also have to deal with Troy. I was right next to his room and his late night visitors weren't always quiet. I miss relaxing with the guys though. Marina and Phones were a blast. We had some good times together."

Scott only just caught the packet thrown his way, catching it by the edge between two fingers. Gordon chuckled as he headed to the hot water dispenser.

"I gotta keep you on your toes."

Scott followed the aquanaut, rubbing his hand through his brother's hair as he moved out the way.

"Hey!" Gordon squawked, cradling his food as he attempted to duck.

Scott ignored the complaint, filling his own pack and noting he'd been thrown beef bourguignon, mash and peas. He already knew Gordon would have Mac and Cheese without looking. Scott had deliberately only brought one along as well as removing the can of squirty cheese from its hiding place. There was only so much Scott could tolerate in a confined space and they were set to be down here a while. They sat in two of the rescue seats and ate off their laps. There was no need for formalities when living in confined quarters.

"This always reminds me of survival training. Eating out of packets perched on a rock or stump, though I'm glad Brains makes them taste better. We were always told that they are called survival rations, not gourmet food-to-go."

Gordon nodded, chewing his current mouthful. A smile crossed his face.

"I lost a bet with Troy during my …. second week on Stingray. He made me eat survival rations for a day. I didn't know they came in different flavours as he only gave me one choice; beef stew. Tasted like cardboard. I got him back though."

"Sounds familiar," Scott chuckled, scraping out the last of his meal. He threw the packet in the trash and grabbed the bag of cookies he'd stowed away. His brother's eyes lit up. Scott ripped it open and deposited two into his awaiting hand before taking two himself. He sealed them up and tucked them away, knowing they'd probably be gone by tomorrow night. He retrieved two hammocks and blankets from one of the underfloor storage holds and handed one of each to Gordon. Unravelling the strong yellow material, he clipped it to the holds in the ceiling before grabbing his wash bag and heading to the sink. He watched as Gordon sorted out his own hammock before joining Scott at the small sink. It was a little cramped, the two of them leaning down to make sure they actually spat into the bowl, but it worked. With no need to change clothes, being in such a small submarine required them to be ready for a leak at any point, so Scott climbed into his bed for the night. It took him a moment to get comfortable, his body not used to the feeling of being cradled by fabric. Beside him Gordon had hopped into his and was swinging gently.

"Like the sailors of old, we sleep in our hammocks and are rocked to sleep by the sea."

There was a crunch and Scott sighed. He had no idea where it had come from but it didn't matter. Brains had found celery crunch bars all over the craft during maintenance.

"Keep it to one. I don't want to be woken by you crunching throughout the night."

"Spoil sport," Gordon grumbled, before peeking over the yellow material at Scott with a grin. "Fancy a sea shanty?"

Scott groaned, hands grasping his head, as laughter filled the submarine. The main lights were turned off as Gordon started singing, a small light on his side of the submarine casting him in an eerie green glow. It was going to be a long week.

********

"Okay, we need to head down the left tunnel."

Gordon watched as Scott turned the controls. His brother was coping well considering Scott wasn't the most patient person and was used to making larger, brasher movements. His brother did have laser focus though, eyes glued to the sonar where a small version on the submarine was actively being projected in real time. Gordon has given up telling Scott to not rely on it solely, old habits dying hard. Granted, it was day three of their trip and they had just entered the deeper, smaller caverns having mapped the larger ones yesterday. The muscles beneath Scott's uniform were a mass of stiff tense knots as the man guided the machine around a tight bend. The caves weren't particularly small by his standards but for someone unused to the kind of manipulation required to transverse them, they were constricting. Brains had already mentioned to Gordon that he had plenty of fresh paint ready for when they got back. He had laughed at the engineer's lack of confidence, but had been grateful all the same. There were already a few spots on Thunderbird Four that needed a touch up, and by the way Scott was turning the craft, there was about to be another.

Gordon sat back, trying not to say anything and let his brother learn. He watched his brother make a small adjustment, a little overzealous increase in the starboard turbine impeller which tipped her nose a little too far to the left, making contact with rock inevitable. The submarine edged forward. Scott realised what was happening and tried to correct it. The nose rose away from the rock wall and towards the center of the tunnel. Gordon could see the tension in the man's jaw increase, which he didn’t think was possible. Just as Scott thought he'd saved it, there was the tell-tale clunk of rock hitting metal near the back of the craft and a thankfully short screech as it scratched the hull. Scott growled in frustration, twisting the controls and setting Thunderbird Four onto a straight course through the tunnel while turning off the engine. Instead he let the craft drift and put his head in his hands. Gordon gave his brother time, watching the man’s fingers twist and scrape their way through normally neat styled hair. Gordon reached out and placed a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"You're getting there. These aren't easy tunnels and they are unknown to you."

"I …" Scott's hand slipped down his face, "I should be able to do this. I'm sorry I've scratched her."

Gordon swallowed. Scott rarely showed vulnerability, and especially not to him. Despite having Dad back, his brother still shouldered too much, and this just showed how close to breaking point he had been. Maybe Scott needed this time away more than he'd like to admit.

"Scratches can be buffed out and painted over," Gordon spoke softly as he knelt beside his brother, "I've given her a fair few over the years."

Scott's hair was poking out of fists now and all Gordon could do was wrap his arms around the man and be there. He rested his chin against tense muscles and gazed into the corner of the cockpit. His eyes started picking out small details, like a smudge of oil at the bottom of the wall where Virgil had touched it during the last biannual maintenance. His brother often helped Brains if he was free and it had been quiet on the rescue front, and Brains wouldn't have let his hands get so dirty. There was a sliver of a celery crunch bar wrapper poking out from around the edge of the small storage compartment which also held a first aid kit. He could spot the grime he'd missed in the clean he'd done. Gordon felt the rise and fall of Scott's shoulders as he shifted his head so he could glimpse the sonar out the corner of his eye. They were still suspended in the middle of the tunnel, Thunderbird Four's buoyancy keeping her from sinking to the rocky floor. Gordon had no idea how long they were like that, and didn't care to know, but Scott finally took a deep breath and straightened up. There was a steely look in his eyes and a new resolve in the way he grasped the controls. Gordon sat back as Thunderbird Four's turbines started turning again.

"I'm only going to improve by keeping at it." There was conviction in the man voice, "I'll set some time aside on Tuesday to buff out all the scratches "

"I'm sure Brains will be happy to do it."

Scott opened and closed his mouth. They both knew Brains would be quicker and more efficient than Scott, who rarely had to buff anything out of Thunderbird One. The cockpit was silent as Scott concentrated, slowly making his way along the tunnels. Gordon gave the odd directional instruction, trying to leave the man to it. There had been a few more swear words during Scott's attempt to turn around at a dead end, having added a few more small scratches to the paintwork. He gradually became faster as his confidence slowly grew as they headed deeper into the system.

"Should we think about turning around?"

Gordon grabbed the tablet and compared their current section to the thirty two year old map produced on the last official excursion. There was only one more tunnel off of this section and he agreed they could probably call it a day. Scott was in need of some time away from the controls.

*******

Scott stretched as he vacated the seat and handed it over to Gordon. He had to bend to stretch his arms out completely, but he did so with a yawn. His body was stiff from being in the same position for so long. Without any guilt he left Gordon to turn the submarine around and headed out back to grab some water. He filled up his standard issue water bottle, a blue iR embossed metal canister, from the tap and greedily gulped half of it. After refilling it, he also filled Gordon's and headed back. As much as he wanted to lie down and try and ease the tension from his muscles, he didn't want to leave Gordon alone. His brother thrived with company, often resorting to telling jokes over the comm when he was alone. Scott placed the canister in its slot on the main seat before sitting down.

Gordon had pulled up the quickest route out the cavern system and had started to leave the tunnel Scott had just finished scanning. As they reached the main tunnel Thunderbird Four's pace increased, it was still slow for the craft but a fair bit faster than Scott had been comfortable to go when he was in control. Gordon didn't bat an eyelid, eyes focused on the rock that passed by the window. His brother's hands gripped the controls in a firm but relaxed manner, his movements were smooth, subtle and the submarine reacted similarly. She glided through the tunnels like she'd been traversing them for years, though Scott knew she hadn't. Gordon was confident at the helm, taking tight turns at speeds that worried Scott to the point he sat back in his seat and held on. It felt strange to be a lover of speed, getting a thrill from being forced back into his seat, yet being uncomfortable that they were going so fast while going so slow.

Thunderbird Four smoothly rounded a junction where Scott had scratched her, her frame tilting with the angle of the turn. Scott was mesmerized by his brother's faultless handling. Glancing at the map, Scott saw the dip coming up which narrowed considerably afterwards. Gordon wasn't perturbed, gliding into the dip and pulling her up with pace. The rock below was clearly visible in the light and the odd protrusion came so close Scott swore they would brush against it. They didn't. Thankfully Gordon reduced his speed as the tunnel narrowed, but at no point did worry or concern cross the man's face. He glided the Thunderbird through the tunnels as if it had been designed solely for the purpose. It had taken them the best part of seven hours to get to the point they had, granted they, he, had been taking it slow due to the nature of their task, however a mere forty minutes of skilled piloting later and they burst into the open ocean once again. Relief filled Scott who hadn't realised how much the close confines of the caves had been affecting him. Gordon took them up to the surface and bright sunlight burst through forcing Scott to cover his eyes.

"Thought we deserved a bit of fresh air."

Gordon gave Scott a cheeky grin as he started putting the submarine in standby. The waves sparkled as they lapped at the hull. Gordon activated the seat allowing him to do some acrobatics to get into the main compartment. Scott rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and followed him. Gordon opened up one of the compartments and started rummaging. Scott leant against the other side, crossed his arms and took in his brother. A proud smile spread across his face. They each had their own set of skills and he had just witnessed what a competent aquanaut could do. WASP must have been gutted when he hadn't returned after his recovery. Even if they didn't let him on Stingray, Gordon's skills would have still been a great addition to the force. Instead, he'd joined his brothers in their Dad's legacy, becoming their only aquanaut. Scott was proud of all his brothers but it was moments like this, when they unintentionally showed off how amazing they were, that made their sacrifices worth it.

Gordon turned around with an armful of snacks and fizzy drinks, and Scott couldn't help but laugh. His brother sauntered to the airlock and Scott hurried to open it, picking up the treat that had fallen to the floor. The fresh crisp sea air wafted in and Scott's lungs breathed deeply. There was land to their left and open water to their right. Gordon plonked himself down and dropped his legs into the water. Scott sat beside him, crossing his legs not wanting to spend the next few days with salt stuck to them. He playfully slapped Gordon on the head with the celery crunch bar he'd dropped before swapping it with a bottle of cola.

********

"Okay, with this next turn you have to glide in pointing towards the corner then pulling round as the front gets to the bend."

Scott set his eyes on the corner, trying to visualise the curve Gordon wanted him to take. After yesterday's disaster Scott was determined to reduce the amount of scratches Brains was going to need to buff out, and had swallowed his pride. There had been no jeering from his brother, instead just a nod. Under Gordon's clear guidance Scott had only given the submarine a minor scratch and he was starting to feel a little less stressed about how close the cavern walls were. Scott did as Gordon instructed, still going at a much slower pace than his brother would, and managed to clear the corner in a smooth motion with inches to spare. Scott was already scouting out the route ahead, eyes spending more time peering out the window than glued to the sonar, when John popped up in front of him.

"Sorry to interrupt your training trip, but we have a situation that requires Thunderbird Four."

Scott was up and out the chair in a flash. The pair swapped places as Gordon switched to the old map. Hands on the controls they started heading to a suitable turning point.

"Have Thunderbird Two ready outside for a pick up."

Scott grabbed the tablet from its holder. It lit up immediately as John sent the rescue details to the craft.

"Thunderbird Two is currently attached to a container ship in an attempt to stop its contents from spilling into the sea. Alan is in a submarine pod, but it just doesn't have enough power to keep the ship from sinking. It's only forty minutes from your current location. Thunderbird Two should just about be able to hold it until then."

"FAB, John."

Scott surveyed the map as Gordon weaved his way out the cave system with the same agility as yesterday, but with a little more haste. Once out, Scott flicked the route onto the aquanaut’s screen, who responded by hitting the throttle with enough force to push Scott back in his seat.

"I can make it in thirty five easily," Gordon gloated.

Scott nodded, eyes skimming over Thunderbird Two's statistics before opening up John's scans of the situation and the 'dash cam' of the green giant. The ship was tilted at an immense angle, but was currently stable, even as its cargo seemed on the verge of toppling. The cause for the problem wasn't obvious but that wasn't of concern right now. A small lifeboat was slowly leaving the vicinity of the vessel, which was a relief. With no life signs onboard they could resort to an abort if the risks were too high. They were primarily a rescue organisation, but in this case it would be detrimental to the environment if they let the cargo fall. If Thunderbird Four could stabilise it enough to allow Alan to get inflator bags attached then they could right it for long enough so the ship could get to the nearest port. The coastguard would sort that out with the help of the original crew.

Scott was relieved as they approached. Thunderbird Four was speedy for an underwater vessel, making the journey in thirty four minutes, but he was used to much, much faster speeds. Gordon slowed on the approach and headed immediately to the yellow blob that was the submarine pod. Alan gave a wave as he passed by. The craft's arms were extended and placed against the metal above the pod. The speed of the turbines increased slowly, and although there was very little improvement in the angle of the ship it meant the current angle could be maintained without Alan.

"You can let go now, Alan."

Scott got there before John, who was currently on the phone to the coast guard trying to ascertain how long it was going to take for them to reach the situation.

"Thanks Scott," Alan chimed cheerily

"Don't forget me! I'm the one doing the hard work."

"Sorry. Thank you Gordon."

"You're welcome."

Gordon grinned. Scott shook his head and let it go. The pair was either winding each other up or plotting something together. This was mild banter and he knew both his siblings were concentrating on their tasks. The smaller pod disappeared from beneath them. Scott tracked Alan's progress on the tablet, his little red dot heading back to the module and hopping across it to grab the large inflator bags from the back. They were going to need four according to John's calculations so he hoped Alan had the sense to drag them all out now so he didn't have to leave the pod again. The red icon eventually whizzed away from the module and towards the indicator on the stern end of the ship before heading straight back to grab the next bag. This one he attached to the bow end. When Alan was safely out the way, Scott selected the bags and activated them simultaneously. The added buoyancy lifted the ship higher in the water, taking Thunderbird Four with it. The video showed a vast improvement in the angle of the cargo and Thunderbird Two's engines were now able to pull the ship to its correct orientation with ease. Gordon released the ship with no adverse effects. He turned and sped towards the floating module. They burst above the surface with great theatre, spray sparkling like diamonds before returning to the sea. The arms that had previously braced against the ship grabbed the last inflator bag and pulled it into the water. They dived heading to the last placement indicator. Gordon waved as they passed Alan, who had been heading back for the last bag. After the bag was installed, Scott activated them and Virgil lowered Thunderbird Two putting slack in the lines. After a minute of stability, the lines were released and withdrawn. Gordon brought them back up to the surface, next to the submarine pod, before heading out the back. Gordon lept onto the module’s door to join a disgruntled looking Alan.

"You took my job!"

"You were taking too long."

"I so wasn't, and you know it."

Scott leapt across the water and joined them on the module's door. The sound of his siblings squabbling flowed over him. It happened frequently post rescue, particularly the less challenging ones where they sometimes stepped on each other's toes. Despite the noise, Scott was happy to see that the pair were in fact working together to get the pod out the water and into the module. Extending his arms above his head, he watched the pair while enjoying the feeling of stretching his legs. He hadn't been on land for four days and his body was itching for a run. The temptation to run circles around the module was sitting at the back of his mind, alongside all the teasing he'd get for doing so. When the pod was loaded the three of them congregated beside it. John had obviously been watching them as he immediately popped up on Scott's wrist and Virgil on Gordon's. Scott sidestepped so Alan could stand between Gordon and himself.

"The coastguard aren't coming, apparently they have something more urgent to deal with." Displeasure tainted the word urgent. "Virgil, the tanker should be able to keep afloat with the buoyancy aids attached, as long as they stick to 10 knots or less. The crew are making their way back to the ship and are aware of this. Considering the time it'll take for them to get to the nearest port it's not worth hanging around and the time saved would be negligible. It should be safe enough to head home and be on alert."

There were nods of agreement from everyone.

"Scott, if you're fed up with being confined with Gordon, I can give you a lift home."

"Hey!" Gordon exclaimed, "I'm not that bad."

"Has he been at the squirty cheese yet? That stuff smells so strong, and it's sticky."

The face Alan pulled was priceless.

"Thanks for the offer, Virgil, but I'm still in need of a little more practice."

"If you're sure, Scott."

"Let him go, Virgil. From the amount of scratches I saw on Thunderbird Four he needs it. He might even beat my record."

Laughter filled the air as every Tracy brother laughed. Scott ruffled Alan's hair as revenge, getting a glare from the teenager. With that he followed Gordon back to Thunderbird Four and jumped aboard. The airlock closed and they headed into the cockpit.

"Fancy getting us back?"

Scott threw his arm over his brother's shoulder and gave him a quick hug.

"How about you get us back while I make us some lunch? Anyway, I need to save myself for those tunnels. I can't embarrass International Rescue by scratching up our submarine on a rescue now, can I?"

Gordon laughed as they separated and slipped down into the driving seat. Scott resisted the urge to mess the man's hair up as he turned to leave. He could survive another four days in a submarine if it meant spending quality time with his brother.

#thunderbirds are go #tag mini bang 2021 #tagminibang2021 #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #thunderbird 4 #refresher

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cg29fics · 3 years ago

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Pick and Mix Collection

A selection of Little Tracy fics for @gordonthegreatesttracy and @psychoseal

All can be found with other short stories in my Pick & Mix Collection on AO3 & FFNet: CreativeGirl29

School Reports. Aged 8.

Scott Tracy:

Scott is a bright young boy, who is extremely popular with all his classmates. He is always first to put himself forward for team challenges and is a natural team leader. However, Scott tends to be impulsive and rush into an activity or challenge, which on occasions as cost him a higher mark. Scott excels in English, Geography and Physical Education but tends to struggle in maths.

John Tracy:

John is a quiet, introspective and intelligent young man, who excels in Science, Maths, English and Information Technology. John as the potential to go far in life and could be moved up a grade if he was to apply himself to what he once referred to as the ‘boring subjects’ and stop correcting myself and my other colleagues when we are trying to teach.

Virgil Tracy:

Virgil is a lovely, thoughtful boy, who always listens in class, speaks when he is spoken to, and on occasions has gone out of his way to support other classmates when they are struggling. Virgil has a gift for art, music and history. He also recently earned top marks when we taught first-aid in his class. However, I would like to bring to your attention Virgil’s tendency to day dream when he is not taking part in one of his favourite subjects.

Gordon Tracy:

Gordon is a conundrum and seems to have two sides to him. On the one side, you have the sweet boy who will always be there for his friends, excels in physical education, especially swimming and did surprisingly well when we did our big baking day. However, the other side of Gordon has a habit of constantly chatting in class, despite being asked to be quiet and as unfortunately become known as the school clown. If Gordon were to apply himself in all his work instead of drawing pictures of himself as a fish, he could gain good marks in all his classes.

Alan Tracy:

Alan is a smart boy who as always got a smile on his face. When he is interested in a subject, or as been caught by an idea he is an absolute pleasure to teach. However, like his brother before him, he tends to chat in class, and on many occasions, has had his portable computer console confiscated when he has been found playing on it, instead of learning. Alan struggles in History but excels in science and maths. I would also like to bring to your attention Alan’s report on ‘Our Heroes.’ All the children in his class decided to write about a celebrity, sports personality or historical figure. Instead, Alan wrote a fantastic and touching report where he named his older brother John as his hero and who he would most like to be like when he grows up.

5 more fics beneath the cut

STAR BOY:

"John you've been told not to run in the house." His father complained, catching his 4-year-old son in his arms.

"I'm not John." John answered with a serious face.

"Oh, you're not?" Jeff remarked, observing the cape John had attempted to make out of his comfort blanket. "Well, I must say, you certainly look like my John!"

"Shush! Daddy." John whispered. No one can know my secret ident…" John paused, thinking about the word he was struggling to say. "Ident…"

Jeff smiled. "Identity."

John grinned. "Yeah, my secret identity."

"So, who are you then?" Jeff inquired curiously.

"I'm Star Boy." John shouted, as he managed to struggle free and started running around in circles.

Jeff let out a chuckle at his son's exuberance. "So, Star Boy. What powers do you have?"

"Fly in space." John cried with joy.

"And what's your current mission Jo… I mean Star Boy?"

John ground himself to a sudden halt. "Find baby Virgie!" He stated with a thoughtful look.

"Virgil." Jeff corrected. "And he's not missing, he's nice and safe in your mummy's tummy."

John stared at his dad in confusion. "But I heard you and mummy say that he was late, and then mummy said if he didn't turn up soon she would…"

"Okay, John." Jeff said cutting John off. He would have to have a word to Lucille about what John had overheard. He knew she would be mortified but John seemed to have exceptional hearing and they both knew that their boy was very bright for his age. Jeff held his arms out for his current youngest son. John happily ran into them, and let himself be pulled up onto his father's lap. "Now, Virgil is still safe in your mummy's tummy, the reason he's late is because your mum has made it so comfortable in there that he doesn't want to leave yet."

"But I want to find him, cause then I'll get to be big brother like Scotty." John frowned.

Jeff pulled John into a warm hug. "And you will be a brilliant big brother just like Scott." He assured him.

As Jeff held John tightly in his arms, a shout from his mother came from in the kitchen, followed by his oldest son running into the room.

"Daddy, Grandma said to tell you mummy's waters broken!" Scott panted.

Jeff pulled himself to his feet, keeping John firmly in one arm, and taking Scott's hand with the other. "Well, my Star Boy." Jeff said, looking at John with pride. "It looks like your mission was successful!"

"It was?" John asked with a puzzled expression.

Jeff beamed as he stood John next to Scott, who automatically took his little brother's hand in his. "Yes, you did!" He added, with a concerned look towards the kitchen as he heard his mother and Lucille call for him once more. "Looks like baby Virgil is on his way!"

Several hours later:

John grinned with joy, as with his mother's help, he held his new baby brother in his arms. "Hey, Virgie." He said softly. "I'm John, your big brother… And my secret is I'm also Star Boy." He whispered. "I helped find you today!" John looked at Virgil who gazed at him with his big eyes. "And my next mission is to be your big brother." He said with a contented sigh.

4 little brothers.

12 year old Scott Tracy stretched out in his bed, enjoying the warmth from is duvet on a cold winters night. Yes, this was his time. His time to relax after a full on day spent with 4 hyper younger brothers. His time to bask in the peace and quiet his room provided…

… THUNDERCLAP … the pouring rain began hammering at his window …

Scott sighed, threw back his blanket and began counting "5, 4, 3, 2, 1…"

… THUNDERCLAP … 4 scared little brothers rushed into his room …

"Come on then, jump in."

… THUNDERCLAP… 4 scared little brothers scurried noisily into the bed.

Pulling the blanket over them all Scott smiled when he felt each of them snuggle up to him. 'Forget the peace and quiet,' he thought to himself. He would prefer to have his 4 brothers any day!

First Day.

“Don’t want too…” Alan whined, clinging desperately onto his father’s trousers.

“But you have to,” Jeff returned, trying to loosen his son’s grip.

“Why?”

“Because…” Jeff paused, then exhaled, he had no answer for his baby. Honestly, he was out of his depth, normally this was Lucille’s job, but she wasn’t here like she had been for his other boys… He glanced at his four sons standing close by, none of them had wanted to miss this moment, none of them wanted Alan to feel like he was missing out on something, even though they knew that he was. After all, it shouldn’t be them doing this, it should be their mother. They’d all had her here for their first day, but Alan wouldn’t… And even though he hadn’t said anything they could see it in his eyes that he knew he was different from all of the other kids who were being dropped off by their moms.

“Because,” Scott said, stepping forwards, ��you will get to make some cool new friends.”

“I will?”

“Yes,” John replied, “and you can play with some neat toys.”

“And when I was here,” Gordon added, “they had some awesome toy dolphins, and a submarine…”

Alan scrunched up his tiny nose.

Gordon grinned. “They also had some cars and toy rockets!”

“Wow!” Alan exclaimed.

“You can also draw and paint,” Virgil informed him.

“Without getting told off for using your paints?”

“As long as you share with your classmates,” Virgil said with a big smile, “then you can use whatever you want… And maybe you could bring me a picture back of your favourite toy?”

Alan nodded enthusiastically, then looked up to his dad. “I’m ready to go now daddy!”

Jeff knelt down so his eyes were level with Alan’s. “Have a brilliant day son.”

Alan beamed, loosened his grip, then immediately ran towards his teacher.

Standing, Jeff reached out and brought his four other boys into a warm hold. Knowing that whenever he was out of his depth then his amazing sons would always have his back.

The Beast

It was dark. Only a few rays of sunlight managing to penetrate the lair he had entered. He had been warned on numerous occasions about the beast that inhabited this area and was known to attack when woken, but he had not believed. Yes, he had seen it on many occasions, but all of those times it had been funny, friendly and caring. Surely, just because it was woken early it wouldn't attack. Especially since it was him.

He creeped closer. Currently it was lying on its stomach, eyes were tightly shut, and bizarre noises were emitting from it. Finally, reaching his destination he leant towards it, his hand reaching out, but then a sudden snort from the thing in front of him was released causing him to jump back. Maybe it wasn't best to disturb it? Maybe Gordon was right, and the beast did attack if provoked this early? Although his brother was known to make things up. This probably was just one of his jokes and the usual encounter would be received. He had to be brave and find out the truth. Straightening himself up, he stepped forwards, and placed his hand confidently on the shoulder in front of him…

"Virg…"

No movement, no signs of him waking, so he tried again…

"Virgie?"

This time a groan emitted from his brother, then once again he grew quiet…

"Virgie," he pushed harder on his shoulder, "please wake up."

A yawn, and a pair of bleary eyes opened, grumpy and nothing like the kind-hearted peaceful ones he was used to… He moved backwards… Maybe this was a mistake… But then there eyes met, and a soft gentle smile illuminated the features of his brother.

"Hey Alligator, what's up?"

"Nothing," Alan replied with a little snigger at the nickname.

Virgil regarded the three-year-old in front of him. "Nothing, really?"

"Well, Gordy said you were a beast in the morning, but I didn't believe him, so he said I should come and see for myself."

"Did he indeed?"

Alan nodded his head.

"Well, I'm not a beast."

"Knew it!" Alan cheered happily.

"But," Virgil looked at his clock, "when I am woken this early, I am known to turn into a bear."

Alan gasped in shock.

"And you know what bears do, right?"

Alan scrunched up his little nose and shuck his head…

"Well, they are known to attack."

"Really?"

"Yes, with…" Virgil paused for dramatic effect… "tickles!"

A fit of giggles erupted from Alan when Virgil pounced, flung him over his shoulder, then onto the bed where he began tickling him madly.

Baby Talk

"Hi, I'm Scott, I'm four years old, I love aeroplanes and jumping off the couch. Although mummy and daddy tell me off for that one. My best friend became a big brother to a little sister last year, he's really good at it, and I want to be the same. So, I will always cuddle you, care for you, and when you get bigger I will help you to learn all of the things I found hard. I promise that I will be the best big brother you could ask for…" He leaned in and kissed his mother's tummy, feeling a kick back in response… "Love you too!"

#cg29fics #thunderbirds fanfiction #Little Tracy's #TAG Pick & Mix Collection #Thunderbirds #Thunderbirds Are Go #Thunderbirds Are Go Fanfiction #Thunderfam Delivery #Thunderbirds Fandom

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cg29 · 3 years ago

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Since the Olympics are currently happening I thought I’d share a couple of my mini fics that focus on Gordon’s swimming - All taken from my Virgil Drabbles: Read all chapters Here

From C11: Swimming.

Gordon surveyed his older brother. "Don't know Virgie, it's really far!"

Virgil looked over to the other side. "It is… But Scotty and Johnny are waiting, mommy's watching from the side with Alan, and I'll be next to you the whole time."

"You will?"

"I'll try, although you're quicker than me, so you might get there first."

"I'm faster?"

"Yes, you're good enough to win a medal like the swimmers on tv."

"Cool!" Gordon grinned, holding out his arms.

Virgil pulled off the inflatable armbands and put them on the side. "Ready?"

Gordon nodded.

"Set…"

Gordon prepared to release."

"Go!"

***

C32: Gordon

An eight-year-old Gordon paused, eyeing his competition before turning to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“Home!”

“Why?”

Gordon pointed towards the kids who were all preparing themselves for the swimming race. “Virgil, they’re all older than me, I’ll never be fast enough.”

The eldest is in my year, and you can definitely beat me… Besides, I believe in you!”

“Really?”

“Yes, but you need to believe in yourself too!”

Gordon exhaled, then nodded confidently.

“Great,” Virgil offered his brother a fist bump, “now go get them… And who knows in a few years, a school trophy could be a gold!”

***

Ch 40: Here for You

He was here, Olympic finals, and his family, although watching, wouldn’t be there.

John was in training with NASA. Grandma had the flu and Kayo was looking after her. Alan had broken his leg and would be watching from hospital with their father. Scott was waiting to be shipped out to his next assignment, and Virgil, the one who’d believed in him most, was at college. He’d have to do this alone…

“Hey Squid!”

Gordon’s face ignited. “Virg, you’re here?”

“Absolutely,” Virgil pulled him into a hug, “college can wait… Now,” he released the hold, “go and win that gold!”

Ch 41: Golden Cheers

The crowds were electric, all cheering in unison. His cheers were saved for one athlete, his brother. Virgil was honoured to be there, not just for Gordon, but also for his family. All had genuine reasons for watching from afar, but all were gutted at not being there. So, he’d stepped up, just like Gordon, an outsider to win, was now doing… Swimming for his life, the concentration oozing… He was ahead… Virgil felt his jubilation growing… A roar bellowing forth when Gordon touched the finishing line… GOLD, his little brother had won gold… And he’d never felt so proud.

#fanfiction rewind #virgil tracy #Gordon Tracy #fishtank #thunderbirds #thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #cg29 fics #thunderbirds 2015 #TAG 2015 #thunderbirds are go fandom #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fandom

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sidespart · 4 years ago

Text

The Fall of Romulus Part 5

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

The first time Virgil had seen Patton, it had been on the battlefield. The larger man was on his knees, three men wearing the same uniform as Virgil strewn around him, fresh blood gushing from deep gouges on his face. He’d looked up at Virgil like he expected to die, his eyes bright with relief.

The first time Virgil had seen Logan, he’d barely been more than a kid. Even skinnier than he was now, drenched to the bone in his threadbare apprentice robes and shaking with rage. He’d thrust a handful of coins across the table at Virgil and Patton, newly minted heroes for hire, and demanded they kill his master.

The first time Virgil had seen Roman, he’d been singing to a horse.

It wasn’t even his horse.

Virgil had wanted a break from the noise of the tavern and the simmering tension between his companions. But standing in the dark in an unfamiliar town had been unappealing and so he’d ducked into the taverns small stables. The hayloft was more of a glorified shelf, set close to the ceiling, but standing amongst the horses meant potentially having to explain himself to the horses’ owners and so he’d clambered up and shimmied his way into the narrow space, ducking down out of sight.

He just wanted a few minutes peace. Long enough to figure out what to do.

Logan had accepted a job. Without consulting either Patton or Virgil. It was a simple enough assignment -to transport a crate full of merchandise to a town on the other side of the mountain pass. So why could the townsfolk not deal with that themselves? Because the pass was full of bandits. Obviously.

Logan said they needed the money and he wasn’t wrong. Patton said they needed a break and he wasn’t wrong either.

They had been travelling from one skinflint town to the next for what felt like an age…but half the reason travel was taking so long was that right now they didn’t have enough coin to even to rent horses. Which meant Patton was going to end up dragging the gods-forsaken chest the entire way. Which was going to aggravate the hip injury- which he still refused to acknowledge existed - and leave all of them vulnerable to attack, since Logan wasn’t winning any fights unless it was a debate and Virgil…Virgil did better with the element of surprise.

Looming out of the darkness, his eyes glowing purple and his crossbow held aloft – Virgil had watched many an enemy turn tail and run at the sight of him with great satisfaction.

Actually aiming that crossbow, in broad daylight, at attacking bandits and successfully hitting one? That seemed less likely to be satisfying for anyone. Except maybe the bandits.

So now there was a stalemate, both Patton and Logan bristling at each other over their meal. Both waiting for Virgil to be the tiebreaker.

Hence the hiding in a hayloft.

Maybe if Logan had just talked to the them instead of making decisions for everyone-

“Who’s the prettiest girl in this stable? Is it you? I think it is!”

Virgil froze.

“My lady fair is pale as night and strong as all the stars that bright th- hey!” holding his breath, Virgil slowly turned his head until he could see the man below, who was currently trying to tug his sleeve out of the mouth of a blond mare. It was the bard from the tavern. Even without hearing his voice, the bright white outfit and ridiculously flouncy red jacket gave him away.

Virgil frowned. It was still relatively early in the evening and the bard had had a good audience – even Patton and Logan had looked away form their argument to appreciate his tune. Why leave now?

“Okay, okay you don’t like the classics.” The bard was back to petting the mare’s nose, “but you’re still stunning despite your terrible taste. And a beautiful horse deserves the most handsome of riders hmm?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and relaxed back against the hay. The movements of over the top performers were none of his business.

“That you singing back there?”

Virgil tensed again.

Two men were blocking the exit. Both big, broad and wearing matching insincere grins.

The one who’d spoken had a knife in his hand. The bard apparently didn’t notice and stepped away from the horse with his arms spread wide.

Under the dim shaft of moonlight spilling from the stable door, the silky material of the bards jacket seemed to shine. It highlighted his pockets, where the thin material was sagging under the weight of his bulging coin pouch

“Always a pleasure to meet my fans!”

He gave them a cheeky bow, his pockets jingling as he moved.

Virgil resisted the urge to bang his head against the ceiling.

If this idiot wanted to get himself stabbed was it really Virgil’s responsibility to intervene? What would Logan call this – natural selection?

“Must’ve made a pretty penny.” It was the second man who spoke, he leaned carefully against the stable door as knife-guy stepped forward. “Nice voice like that.”

He looked pointedly at the bard’s jacket pocket. The bard took a half step back, almost disappearing from Virgil’s view.

“Your town is very generous.”

“Yeah. Good people” The second guy smiled. “Drop it.”

Virgil heard the bard sigh, deep and theatrical. But, much to Virgil’s relief, he threw the bag down on to the ground between them. Murder, Virgil was probably morally obligated to try to stop. But if the two robbers just took the bag and ran? Well. Patton was constantly asking Vigil and Logan to keep out of trouble so he could hardly disapprove.

Knife-guy grinned dumbly and reached down to his prize. Virgil tensed himself, he wasn’t going to be able to leap gracefully into action form his confined hiding place but he could potentially…roll onto the guy if he tried anything.

He didn’t get the chance.

As soon as the wannabe thief bent down the bard was on him. A blur of white and red shot out from beneath the hayloft, slammed the butt of a sword – had he always had a sword? – down on knife-guys skull sending him sprawling to the ground.

The second man let out a shout but before he had chance to take more than a step forward the bard was there, sword swinging though the air before coming to rest less than an inch from the man’s throat.

There was a pause whilst the man just gaped at the bard. Breathing heavily.

“You have a choice. Leave now, with your head still attached or…”

There was a yell and Virgil cursed himself for being distracted as knife-guy barrelled towards the pair, weapon raised high –

Only for it to instantly be knocked out his hand by the bard’s sword. The big man let out a high pitched yelp as blood spurted from where his fingers had been moments before, the knife clattering to the ground. The second man aimed a swing at the bards head but he dodged low, springing back up to deliver a punch of his own to the man’s throat, which left him gasping for breath.

At this point, knife guy clearly decided he’d had enough, running for the door with his bleeding hand clutched close to his chest. The second thief, seeing his backup flee, shot the bard a venomous glare and hurried after.

And then there was quiet.

“Sorry about that.” Virgil startled – was he talking to him? “My precious babies.” No. The bard was heading back towards the horses, who had been remarkably unconcerned throughout his ordeal. This gave Virgil his first proper look at his face.

He looked young. Not much older than Logan. And tired.

“Did those mean old robbers scare you?” he cooed “Not to worry – your hero is here to save the day!”

With the bard facing the horses, Virgil took the opportunity to squirm out of his hiding place, managing to land lightly enough on the stable floor behind him.

“Hey.” He said.

The hero’s shriek of surprise was so loud that the horses reared up in their stalls.

After hasty explanations, Virgil had hired him as extra muscle for their trip. It’s wasn’t t an ideal solution, but the knowledge that there would be extra protection around for Logan and Virgil eased some of Patton’s tension. And since Sir Sing-A-Lot had pissed off two would be thieves who were presumably still in town somewhere, he was willing to leave quickly and for cheap which suited Logan.

He met them the next day about a quarter mile out of town, performance outfit replaced with something moderately more travel worthy and sword strapped to his side. Virgil had suggested he stay the night at the tavern but he had shaken his head. Said if he went back in there the bartender would insist he stay to play another night – and then he’d have to let him down, which would be far too painful to bare.

Virgil privately thought skipping out halfway through the night was probably letting him down worse, but whatever. One mans loss is another man’s gain.

It was only when he’s was making the introductions that he realised Roman hadn’t brought his horse. Which led quickly to the realisation that there were three would be thieves in the stable that night.

Virgil spent most of the first day with his eyes fixed on Roman, waiting for him to betray them and skip off with the loot himself. But as the hours past and the bard did nothing suspicious he slowly started to relax.

It was only going to be three days.

***

Three years later, Virgil was growling to himself in his mother’s language as he swept his eyes across the room again, finding absolutely nothing. Not that he expected to -the small room wasn’t exactly flush with hiding places. All he had managed to unearth in the first frantic search was one of Roman’s notebooks, tossed under the bed with its leafy bookmark a few inches away. Patton had carefully put both away in his own coat pocket, a look of abject misery on his face as his hands ghosted over Romans drawings.

The thing was. It wasn’t like adding Roman to the group had instantly fixed everything.

But-

But Patton got sad sometimes. And Virgil, he’d been through a lot of the same stuff as the big guy but he didn’t know how to reach him when he got like that. Virgil was pretty sure he actually made things worse. But Roman – Roman distracted Patton without even trying half the time. He’d sing, weave a story out of nothing, disappear down a side street and reappear with a gaggle of kids and two puppies he seemingly conjured out of nowhere. The two of them had the same bright energy and when they got together they laughed loud enough to banish any shadow.

And Logan – Logan had this need to prove himself. All the time. He needed a challenge to throw himself against or he wilted. Patton hated arguing and Virgil frankly didn’t have the energy but Roman? Roman loved it. The two debated everything, from poetry to politics and threw themselves into preparation with more gusto than seemed healthy. The first big blow up they had, Virgil had looked over at Patton, panicked, before realising both men were grinning ear to ear. Relishing the debate in a way that Virgil didn’t really understand.

And as for Virgil himself…well actually he had always been perfectly fine and Roman basically drove him crazy.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was, the four of them worked better as a four. They balanced each other out. Even if they sometimes went too far and hurt each others feelings, they always apologised and moved on. And even if having four meant that their could never be a tiebreaker and every decision had to be discussed around and around until someone gave in…that was just what family was like.

And now Roman was just going to walk away from them? Without even saying goodbye?

Unacceptable.

“This is all my fault.” Patton wailed for third time. “I never should have left him alone.”

And on top of everything he’d upset Patton? Virgil was going to find their wayward bard and bring him home. And then kill him.

“Tell us what he said again.” Logan demanded imperiously, notebook and pen at the ready as he stared Patton down.

Virgil sighed and answered for him:

“He told him he wanted to leave the city. And now he’s left the city.”

Logan frowned. “The city gates are closed at sunset – unless he had a royal decree he would have been unable to leave last night.”

Virgil grit his teeth, “Okay, so, assuming he didn’t know that – because none of the rest of us knew that – he left the inn to try to leave the city.”

“So then why leave the inn at all?” Logan continued, pacing up and down the limited floor space and utterly ignoring Virgil “Why not just wait till morning? It makes no sense unless.” He paused at the window. “Unless he was taken against his will.”

Patton and Virgil exchange wide eyed looks. Virgil was normally the one jumping to worst case scenarios, not Logan. “You, uhh, you got any evidence for that one Lo?”

“He left his sword.” Logan pointed. “Amongst almost all his other possessions – he told Patton he wasn’t safe and then he leaves without taking a weapon? It’s illogical.”

“I’m not sure he was thinking logically.” Patton said softly, looking at Romans neatly piled possessions. “You didn’t hear him guys he – he sounded so scared.”

Virgil flinched. Fingers flexing uselessly. “Okay. Okay so. What spooked him? Something in the forest?” He asked, thinking guilty of Romans thorn scratched hands after he’d got himself lost trying to escape Virgil foul mood. “He was totally spaced out last night.”

“He seemed fine this morning.” Patton said with a frown “Logan?”

“He was fine before we saw The Crone.” Logan murmured, “he was, if anything, too effervescent. But when we left he seemed…” he trailed off, adjusting his glasses before glaring defensively at both of them “he didn’t say anything so I can’t be sure – but, he was very quiet. The Crone was northern so I thought perhaps homesickness? But I don’t believe he was scared. Not until the episode.”

Virgil nodded, Logan had already described the episode – Romans sudden sprint through the city street and subsequent panic attack – in detail, although he’d been unable to pin point what had set him off.

“Um I’m sorry …The Crone?” Patton looked horrified, “Logan, do you mean our customer?”

“I. Uhm.” Despite everything Virgil couldn’t help but grin the flush of embarrassment that quickly took over Logan’s face. “She was from the North” Logan told them with great dignity, “Roman has told us many time that it is considered rude to ask a strangers name on first meeting.”

“But, did you…know she was form the North? Before you started calling her crone?” Virgil couldn’t resist teasing.

“Logan that is so rude!” Patton said, giving his best disappointed dad eyes.

“SO rude.” Roman ginned “honestly Patton – Virgil - this kind of behaviour reflects poorly on you as parents. I personally think you should send him to bed without supper.”

And Patton laughed, a secretly pleased smile at being compared to a parent and Virgil rolled his eyes and shrugged Romans hand off his shoulder and Logan let out an offended humph before reminding Roman, again, that he was only a few years older than him and if he was a child Roman was too and a brat besides – an old and well-worn argument that made all of them laugh, tension broken.

Except it wasn’t. Because Roman wasn’t there.

Instead Patton’s exaggerated disappointment mellowed into real sadness as he glanced around the room again and Logan hunched his shoulders, burying his face in his notebook. Silence filled the room.

“I’m going to uh, look outside again.” Virgil jerked his thumb awkwardly to the door and set off without waiting for a response.

Definitely kill him, Virgil thought. Once they were sure he was okay.

Apart from his unusual eye colour, pointed ears and a youthful complexion well into his thirties, Virgil had inherited very little from his mothers people. But his night vision was undeniably better than his fully human companions.

Not that it was doing him much good right now. Didn’t matter how good your eye sight was if there was nothing to see.

It was easy enough to track Roman from the open window, down the wall of torn climbing plants to the ground, but after that the trail immediately went cold. If this was a small town with a dirt road there would at least be footprints, but on the cobblestone streets of the well-to-do there was nothing to follow.

He could be anywhere.

Virgil kicked a pebble with a snarl, sending it clattering across the square. Reluctantly he started to prepare himself for the long climb back up to their room, when he was distracted by a faint whinnying.

The tavern connected to stables.

Huh.

Well….he knew Roman had been prepared to steal a horse before…

Quietly, Virgil slipped around the corner and into the stables. This was a far cry from the glorified shack where he had first met Roman. The ‘stables’ was more of a courtyard, with various coaches and waggons parked in the centre, and an enormous number of stalls ringing the outside. Virgil guessed it was shared between the tavern and the several other buildings that bordered the square.

His heart began to race.

He hadn’t really expected to see much – how would he know, after all, if a horse was missing? But with this much money in one place, there had to be a guard. Someone who might have seen Roman pass through.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his expectations low, and began to search.

“Virgil. Did you kidnap a child?!”

Virgil winced. The force of Patton’s disappointed dad glare was a lot less funny when it was directed at him. “I mean,” he tried “is it kidnapping? She lives here! It’s not that bad!”

“I would say it’s significantly worse that calling a woman a crone in the privacy of your own head.” Logan muttered under his breath. Virgil glared at him.

“And I don’t live here,” the girl offered brightly “I just work in the stables.”

They were in the inn’s kitchen. Somewhere that they were absolutely not allowed to be. But between cancelling the promised performance, negotiating a week’s stay in an already overbooked establishment and then almost immediately afterwards cancelling that too and the panicked interrogation of the few remaining customers when they’d first discovered Roman missing; Virgil didn’t think the inn’s landlord could really get more irritated with them.

Although the whole kidnapping thing was probably not going to help.

“Here you go sweetheart.” Patton said, pushing a mug of sweet tea towards the girl and taking a seat next to her. He did not offer Virgil or Logan a cup.

“Thanks Mister Pat!” She smiled sweetly up at Patton before turning away from him and sticking her tongue out at Virgil. Virgil gestured wildly between the girl and himself but Patton just sipped his own drink, nose in the air.

Virgil slumped in his chair, glowering.

He’d found her sleeping in one of the empty stable stalls. The space was clearly being used as a hut for the stable boy – or in this case girl – with a small wooden bed pushed against the back wall and a desk covered in half cleaned riding gear near the entrance.

Elated to have found a possible lead he had rushed towards the bed and shaken the occupant awake immediately. And released in one horrifying instant that he was a fully grown man shaking a literal child who probably couldn’t even see him in the darkness.

She yelled.

He yelled.

She threw a horseshoe at his head.

He had managed to bundle her half way back to the inn - one hand clamped over her mouth despite the fact that she was biting him - before Patton appeared, ripping them apart with a growl and then blinking a Virgil in complete confusion when he realised who the would be kidnapper was.

“I – we – just want to ask you some questions.” Virgil said in his calmest I-am-not-deranged-I-have-just-had-a-very-long-day voice “Okay, um, sweetheart?”

All three of them stared at him.

“’Sweetheart’ sounds odd when you say it.”

“I know it does Lo’.”

“It might be the tone of voice.”

“I know it is, Lo’.”

“I’m Lucy.” Said the girl. Lucy sat back in her chair, swinging her legs back and forth. “Are you gonna’ pay me? The last guy gave me five gold pieces.” she grinned at them expectantly.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay well, that’s ridiculous.”

“We don’t have much money.” Patton told her, “but I can make you another tea?” She considered him for a minute but was clearly already besotted with her ‘rescuer’, so she just smiled and held out her mug.

“Now,” Patton asked gently as he poured a refill. “What guy is this? And…what did he ask you to do for that kind of money?”

She shrugged, unconcerned. “Just some rich guy. He wanted to know how many people had come in today, and then for me to let him hang around in my hut until his friend got there.”

“So you left your post?” Logan said disapprovingly. “What time did he arrive? What did he do? What friend was he meeting?”

“He paid me five gold pieces so he could sit in a shed” she told him. “If the guy wanted a horse he could have just bought one. And I just went and sat on the roof anyway, the market was way too busy.”

“Smart.” Virgil said. She glared at him, just long enough to let him know that his approval meant nothing, before continuing.

“He came just after four o’clock, that’s when Tommy goes home and I take over. And he didn’t do anything. Just sat there all grouchy. Then he left with the pretty guy.”

“Pretty?” Logan asked sharply, making Lucy giggle.

“Yeaaaah he had pretty eyes and a lute and really cute short hair. He was way better looking than the rich guy. I think he was a musician.” She sighed.

The three men glanced at each other, excitement building.

“Was he being taken by force?” Logan asked, steepling his hands “Could you see any sign of a struggle? Was he restrained in some way?”

“Logan don’t scare the kid for fucks sake.”

“Oh sorry, the one you kidnapped?”

“Guys.” Patton’s glare quelled them both into silence. Lucy took a long sip of tea, thinking before answering.

“He just walked up to him and they left together right away. I couldn’t hear nothin' but, they didn’t have time to say more than hello before they left.”

“So much for that theory.” Virgil muttered, disappointment settling in his chest. Not that he wanted Logan to be right, that Roman had been taken away by force but- this meant he really had just decided to leave them.

Logan wasn’t convinced. “A physical struggle is not necessarily required to move someone against their will – he could have been coerced.”

“How coercive can you be in one sentence??”

“If he was lying in wait and recognised him instantly the obviously we can assume they knew each other.” Logan told him snottily “Groundwork could have been laid beforehand.”

Virgil frowned, he hadn’t thought of that. But Roman hadn’t arrived until well past four – how had the mystery man known to come to this particular inn?

“Can you tell us anything about the first man?” Patton asked Lucy, “What he looked like or – ooh how about you draw a picture of him!” he produced Romans notebook from his pocket and opened it too a blank page.

“He was just some old rich guy,” she insisted “he was wearing one of those fancy patchwork coats. Pink and blue, and he had dark hair…” she shrugged. ”I don’t remember anything else, sorry Mister Pat.”

“What about an emblem?” Logan asked.

“What’s that?”

“A symbol of his house. Lots of rich people have them, maybe on a bit of jewellery or embroidered on his clothing?”

“He had a cape clasp with a pattern on it.” She said doubtfully, “it wasn’t fancy though just- here – “ she took the note book from Patton and hastily scribbled three interlocking Vs, the largest in the centre.

“We can go to the library and look for it when they open.” Logan told them brightly “If it’s one of the noble houses in the city we should be able to find an address.”

“And we can go see the cro – the customer too” Patton added putting a hand on the scholars shoulder, “Logan says Roman seemed down after they left- she might know something.”

“Right.” Virgil nodded absently.

“One of us should go to the city gates before they open,” Logan continued, “If he still intends to leave the city we can watch for him there.”

Virgil thought of the hordes of people making their way through the city gates. Spotting one man in amongst that throng was going to be near impossible. And even if they found a symbol that matched the child’s drawing, there was no guarantee they would be able to track down the owner. And from Logan's description, Roman hadn’t left his sight whilst they were at The Crones house, what could she possibly tell them that they didn’t already know?

And even if they found him. What good was that, if he truly wanted to leave? It’s not like they could order him to stay.

He felt one large, warm hand land on his shoulder and squeeze gently. “We’ll find him.” Patton told him reassuringly. At the table, Logan was scribbling in his note book again, eyes bright with excitement as he continued the barrage of questions at an amused looking Lucy.

Virgil nodded, and did his best to smile back.

It had been a long week on top of a long month of traveling, and none of their leads were things they could follow right now. They needed to sleep. Get enough rest for a full day of bard hunting in the morning.

And then, well.

If Roman wanted to leave he could leave.

But he was going to damm well explain himself to his family first.

Virgil glanced at Lucy who was watching them with open curiosity.

“I don’t suppose we could convince you not to mention the whole…kidnapping thing to the land lord right?”

She smiled at him. “That’s gonna cost you more than tea.”

Vigil sighed.

chapter 6

#TS: Fall of Romulus #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #what is writing virgils POV?#is it just a thounsad rehtorical questions?#maybe?#sidespart writes

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foxfire-midnight-wings-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Spider Virgil! (Introduction)

So, I guess this is a bullet fic? I always liked to write like these but never knew they had a name lol. Anyways, lets go!

If you’d like to talk more about this AU, you can send me an ask at @foxfire-and-midnight-wings or on here. (Preferably only using this one for asks that could bring potential to expand on the story or universe, with the other one for smaller asks and non-canon talk)

[Next]

[Fanfic Masterlist]

Warnings: super long post, talk about spiders and spider traits (fangs/venom, extra eyes, extra legs, etc.) and the usage of them, talks of spider and snake bites/venom (aka non-sexual biting), general anxiety thoughts and cognitive distortions

[This is basically an AU where Virgil has some spider-like traits, similarly to Remus and Janus with their respective animals. No one is unsympathetic!]

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

First off, he has a little set of extra eyes underneath his 'real' eyes (only four eyes in total)

He got nervous before introducing himself to the other sides (aka the ‘light sides’) so he had Janus and Remus help him use makeup to hide them.

Janus & Remus understand bc while they like their animal traits they know he's always nervous about them.

While Remus only hides his octopus tentacles, Janus tends to hide his fangs, most his scales that aren’t on his face (ex: neck and shoulder), and his extra arms around many of the others.

Virgil has setules so he can climb walls and stuff, which is how he gets up and sits on places that shouldn't be sat on.

Also, he has 4 spider legs that are connected to the muscles on his back

One pair is positioned just underneath his shoulder blades, the other pair is around his mid-lower back

When he’s not hiding his legs, they usually are positioned as if they were giving him a weird hug (top are resting on his shoulders, bottom are wrapped a little bit around his torso)

Also fangs!

He has extended canine teeth that (surprise!) connect to a pair of venom glands on his neck

This means that his teeth are really sensitive too, though, which can suck at times

He had a bad habit of instinctually injecting venom into meat and stuff he eats, but luckily it doesn’t hurt him. Now that they’re all older though, all the ‘dark’ sides were able to adjust to their animal traits or habits.

In this case, that meant he trained himself not to automatically inject his venom into stuff

Remus was the first to find out about venom milking, because it’s Remus

Because both Janus and Virgil have fangs + venom, he knew that they were constantly worried about accidentally hurting someone and not having an antidote. So he brought up the idea to them

Luckily, they were all young when they discovered this so there weren’t any inappropriate jokes about it, but Remus makes them a lot in the present (along with the vore jokes, which everyone hates)

Basically, for those who don’t really know, the way people make antidotes and medicine to help with venom from animals like spiders and snakes is through extracting the venom by a process called “milking”

So they ended up experimenting a lot and they eventually made their own antidotes to both Janus and Virgil’s venom

And once they both also learned how to bite things (and as a result each other) without using their venom

(Snakes and spiders can do what’s called a “dry bite”, basically they bite without injecting venom into what they bit)

This revelation ends up with Janus and Virgil often threatening to bite the other person, sometimes if they fight they actually do

The antidotes have been helpful on the few occasions one of them injects a tiny bit of venom by accident (which was extremely rare, and only ever happened when they were younger)

Virgil and Janus still regularly milk and make their antidotes, and they usually keep some of both in all three of their rooms for emergencies

(sometimes they do it just because they can, and end up giving it to Remus so he can do weird experiments with it in the Imagination)

Also, the hissing? Janus is a snake, so that makes sense. But Virgil?

Well, after a little research, they ended up finding out that spiders make a low hissing noise called “stridulation”. So technically, spiders hiss too.

Virgil uses that against Remus when he tries comparing him to a kitten, and he threatens to bite him

[The Present Situation w/ the Other Sides]

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

He was planning a big reveal for the ‘light’ sides at one point (before he was accepted) but he never went through with it

Because Accepting Anxiety happened, he was worried he'd lose the friendship/acceptance of the others due to his traits. (Anxiety and cognitive distortions, y'know? Plus, he saw how freaked out Patton and the others were by the spider decorations in his room, how could he expect them to react any different to him?)

And so he continues to hide them and his other abilities

which is an absolute pain because while he can easily cover up his extra pair of eyes, he has to be very careful about not showing anyone his fangs

And don’t get me started on how hard it’d be for him to get into his jacket and positioning it just right so his legs aren’t being squished but they aren’t very visible

Fun fact! That’s why he always appears on the stairs. he can easily hide them by leaning against the wall or positioning his back to where no one can see them

But he still gets little urges to do things spider-like because of his anxiety.

For example: crawl up the wall and go in corner = no people = safe

So to fill that little spider instinct to crawl up places to get away from people he takes to sitting in places he shouldn't.

Top of the fridge, the counter, anywhere he can get while being able to reason his way out of being questioned on how he got up there

To his surprise, no one stops him. If anything, Patton calls it cute and Roman basically encourages it

And so things go on like normal, and he always takes off his makeup once he's in his room.

Sometimes he indulges a bit and climbs the walls

He has a small resting area that looks similar to a hammock (but it’s practically a nest of blankets) that’s connected to his walls. Sometimes he’ll sleep up there because it’s off the ground and away from everything

he tends to lay on his stomach and to spread out as much as he can when up there

(Janus and Remus find it hilarious, but Virgil points out that Janus can’t say anything because he does that too)

No one has seemed to catch on that he has spider traits, and he is extremely relieved about that

Then Janus comes along and introduces himself to Thomas and the others.

And then Remus joins in too.

And while none of them are on bad terms, Virgil gets more and more worried someone is going to point out their animal traits and ask him if he has any.

And he worries because he doesn't know how to respond

He can't just say

"Oh yeah, all the 'dark' sides have animal traits and I've just been hiding mine from you in fear of rejection and that you'll all hate me. By the way, my anxiety is making me not say anything about this because I'll have a panic attack just thinking about telling you, and so I haven't said anything about it, and the more time that passes makes the anxiety about telling you guys worse which causes me to put it off even more. And it causes a spiral from there that often makes me whole myself up in my room for days on end."

So he tries to prevent anyone from asking about the 'dark' sides by making it seem like he left them on extremely bad terms.

It takes a minute for Janus to realize it’s not the normal banter they throw around, it’s something more desperate and anxiety-ridden

Janus catches onto his plan very quickly, and when he can he gets Virgil alone with him and Remus to talk it out.

Virgil tells them about his fears of rejection and how none of them know about his spider traits (especially because they went to his room once and Patton was freaked out just by the spider curtains, making his fears worse)

So they all make an agreement to help Virgil hide his traits and to make a plan to help the others not ask them about each other

And then Remus just goes "so you're saying I can fuck with my brother? That's the plan, right?"

Cause he is so on board as long as he can cause chaos.

And what better way to cause chaos than by pretending to be in an arguement or on extremely bad terms with a close friend, forcing the others to watch it happen and be uncomfortable as they argue back and forth

Janus just agrees because he likes being dramatic and it's not like they didn't banter a lot before now, they just get to make it public and more "serious" than before

(They all know it’s just because he wants to be part of the Drama™)

They make a list of things they can and cannot make jabs/remarks about

And then they prepare for the chaos

(Note: This is not them being “unsympathetic”, they all agreed on the plan and all know what they are signing up for. The entire purpose is to make the others think that they have bad relations with each other, which some may interpret the arguing/jabs as the characters being “unsympathetic”)

[The Chaos Time Begins]

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

So this all happens before Selfishness v. Selflessness, right?

Which is what makes the entire courtroom scene funny to the ‘dark’ sides, bc they all were planning to have that be when the drama really started to take off

When in the courtroom and Janus makes the comment about Virgil’s name, he really wasn’t expecting that, but after the initial panic passed he was like ‘I mean, alright I guess’

He didn’t really want them to know anything about his full name (Virgilius), but it wasn’t going to really hurt him

(He just wanted to avoid any of the references or jokes Roman and Logan would definitely make because he already got enough of it from Janus and Remus)

and the plan worked! almost a little too well, though...

After the courtroom scene ends, there’s a couple days of silence where everyone just. Doesn’t talk about it. At all. The ‘dark’ sides were prepared for this, so it’s not too bad for them, but it makes Virgil feel very awkward when around the others.

Then, after the third day of awkward avoidance, Patton and Roman gather all of them in the living room to try and make sure everything is okay.

Unfortunately for them, Patton had also invited Janus up there because he saw the tension between him and Virgil

And Janus physically restrains himself from showing how excited he is because this is the perfect way to make the Drama™ officially known

Virgil is just chilling on the couch waiting for everything to spiral, because while he appreciates the effort, the fighting is completely intentional. So there’s no stopping it now

It goes about as well as you can expect

While everyone else except Janus starts talking, Janus just patiently waits until someone brings him into the conversation to start making jabs. (mainly because he knows that the others actually have stuff they need to talk through first, before he derails the conversation)

They all are able to get to a good conclusion about the situation, misunderstandings are talked through, and now all that’s left is dealing with Janus

And as soon as Patton starts talking to Janus, he gets excited because the show can finally begin

Roman: Now, I know not all of us really like him, but- Virgil: like him?! That’s funny, princey, because I really fucking hate him! Janus: Oh, come on, Virgil! Just lighten up a little. You’re seeming a little... dark. Virgil: Don’t. Patton, trying to prevent them from arguing: Hey, now, kiddos! Let’s take a moment and just step back to breathe, yeah? We don’t want this to- Janus: become a truth-telling session between us and Virgil? Patton: become an arguement.

The others try to help Patton defuse the situation, but it doesn’t work. If anything, it makes the situation worse because Janus uses them as fuel for some of his arguments.

Virgil: Yeah, keep talkin’ pal! I’m sure they really want to hear it from someone who makes it his job to harass everyone Janus: Well, sorry about that Sir Emo, but I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you leaving us. Oh, wait! Sorry, you don’t want to remember being a ‘dark side’, now, do you? My apologies! Roman, frantically glancing between the two: Wait, wha-? Virgil, standing up: Oh shut it, you treacherous snake! Like you ever even wanted me there. You’re probably glad I’m gone, huh? The cold from your room is starting to affect your heart! Not like you had one, though. Janus: Why, you-!

They start arguing and slowly they start getting louder and louder

Eventually, they’re yelling insults at each other, and everyone else is at a loss for what to do

Then, in what seems to be the ending of the argument, Virgil yells “I never wanted to be there with you in the first place, you bastard!”

Janus takes a moment to pause, and then he just says “Right, of course. My bad, Virgilius”

The living room is quiet as Janus sinks out, and Virgil just stands there shaking

He knew it was going to happen, and he knew it was just his name, but the acting and drama was becoming a little too much. It started to feel too real to him, and he knows that’s just his anxiety speaking, but he still feels the tears gathering in his eyes

Patton tries reaching out to him, but Virgil says “I’m going to my room” in a broken voice

The others watch helplessly as he leaves, and eventually they all break off to their own rooms to think about what just happened.

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