#just a little virgil!whump

[gumnut-logic]

I need to tell you something (Bit 1)

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

-o-o-o-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a matter of style, apparently.

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

“I need to speak to Scott.”

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

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

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

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

Virgil had a problem? He went to Scott.

“Scott?”

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, great, one of those.

“What is it, Thunderbird Two?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve been shot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His big brother always knew what to do.

-o-o-o-

Next

[whatgaviiformes]

Unnamed Ficlet

An idea that struck me this morning that doesn't entirely work... but eh. Just a little one pager...

whump, angst.

~*~*~*

Sometimes, John will change the number. 

Five to rescue, though his monitors were showing six, that last dot with a shade far closer to red than orange, his feeds fluttering through hues. It means they won’t make it in time, and the lifesign will be his burden, not his brothers’. They carry far too many souls in their hearts as it is, and telling them would only drive them to wonder what they could have done differently, how they could’ve shaved a millisecond if it would’ve meant life instead of death. And John knows there’s nothing. It’s the red that means at least part of the rescue will be recovery. 

He prepares for it though, emotionally, mentally. One of his siblings will probably find the person behind the previously failing light, assuming they were gone at the time of the incident because the shade of their stuttering heartbeat wasn’t on John’s scanners. And that’s his blessing to them, as much as it's the lesser of the two worst case scenarios. 

There’s a deep orange that’s just too on the line to know for sure, and in those cases he’s honest. He has to be. 

Hates it though. 

He hates the way Scott pushes One’s engines carelessly to their max, and the determined blankness in their sunshine brother’s eyes, and Virgil’s worried frown as he tries to hold himself, Two, and his siblings together on terra firma. For a chance. Sometimes, that orange works out in their favor, and other times it ends with exactly what he’s always feared about them losing people. 

Obsession. They all have it; it didn’t help them find Dad in the end (that was luck and love), it didn’t save Mom or Grandad, and it's not healthy for them to put so much of Fate’s whims on their own backs. 

“John?!” Scott’s voice echoes as if through a tunnel. “How many lifesigns?”

Trembling, he goes to answer. The underwater quake had shaken and stirred. Evac had been underway, and Gordon was down there now. Not answering. His suit telemetry… unreliable.

Six lifesigns had long since changed to five, the ghost of the one they couldn’t save weighing on John’s mind. Then, six once Gordon entered the water. And now… 

“Six, but Scott" - the red he knew too well wavered through wet, blurring vision - “you have little time. You need to go. Now!"

[mrmustachious]

and I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me

Part 3 of Strays. A Criminal AU.

You ever hope there’s something better out there?

a/n: Part 3! This time with a bit of Sad Boy Virgil and Scott whump Title is from Golden by Fall Out Boy

“Just a little further,” Jeff encouraged.

Scott was slipping down. Jeff adjusted his grip to hike him higher, and Scott cried out in pain.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeff soothed.

“Where w-we goin’?” Scott stuttered through gasps of pain.

“A contact once told me about him. He should help.”

Scott managed to send him a wary look, though it was clouded by the look of agony that dug its way into his features.

“You don’t have to trust him, just let him save your life.”

By the time they made it to the door of the apartment, Scott was barely conscious in his arms, and Jeff could only just keep him up.

He rang the doorbell.

It was quiet for several very long moments, before he heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

Silence appeared again, but only for a second this time, before a voice spoke through the door.

“Who is it?”

“Hi, I’m, uh, Jeff. Jeff Tracy. We need your help.”

Keep Reading

[tss-whumper]

how the sides would be described as whumpees in a scientific report

(this is just for fun because i saw another whump blog doing this!)

(also i didn't include patton because i just don't like writing him as a whumpee.)

(cw for mentions of torture, kidnapping, and mentally breaking a person.)

roman -> young adult male, late teens to mid twenties. a perfect subject for senseless torture. noble, eager to please, idealistic to the point of delusion. a beautiful crier. most effective in front of a camera. could make millions in ransom $$. has a bad habit of trying to steal attention and favor that makes him generally unlikeable among other subjects. attached to his brother, is extremely distressed when they are separated.

logan -> adult male, late twenties to early thirties. very difficult to break. be cautious; he has the ability to outsmart you if you are not careful. does not view himself as valuable, will accept degradation with little reaction. knowledgable about the workings of the human body. a viable candidate for an assistant position, if broken enough.

virgil -> adult male, mid to late twenties. sarcastic and mouthy, but will submit quickly to those stronger than him. a martyr who will always put himself in front of weaker subjects. does not think highly of himself. breaks easily. not as strong or athletic as he looks. eats very little, is known to give his food portions to other subjects.

remus -> young adult male, late teens to mid twenties. very opposite to his brother. strong-willed, does not submit. seemingly impossible to break. not defiant, but not submissive either. sometimes appears to enjoy torture, but not in a sexual sense. it seems to be some sort of coping mechanism or front. mindlessly loyal to his brother, will do anything to ensure his safety.

janus -> young adult male, early to mid twenties. enigmatic, will not reveal anything about himself or his past. protective of weaker subjects, but his own safety always seems to come first. regularly attempts to manipulate his captors. be careful. he can be very convincing. the most determined to escape. keep a close eye on him.

[alexthefly]

Snakes on a Thunderbird

For @godsliltippy for TAG MiniBang 2023 (@tagminibang)

Inspired by this adorable piece of Fishtank art here. (@tippystreasurebox)

Trigger warning for snakes. Also brief mention of animal neglect, plus some minor whump and peril.

As Virgil went through his post-flight checks, Gordon twisted and revelled in the several satisfying pops his back made. 

“Oh god, that is so much better! Want me to crack yours for ya, Virg?”

There was a grumble of disapproval from his right. 

“I’ll pass thanks. Hearing yours was an experience in itself. In fact…” 

His brother reached over and snagged the small metal box Gordon had been carrying on his lap. 

“...perhaps I’d better take that before you do yourself any more damage.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and snatched the box back with perhaps just a little too much snap.

“Right Virgil(!) ‘Cos hauling passengers and crates off of a sinking ship was fine, but this last hundred yards to the rescue centre is where things gets really tricky(!)”

The rescue hadn’t really been all that bad physically. The crates in question had been lighter than expected, though that was because apparently properly feeding the various animals inside had clearly not been much of a priority for the smugglers on board; about as high as safety and ship maintenance had been. And although Gordon’s back was definitely starting to twinge a bit now, he’d have been a lot happier to be a lot achier if it meant those poor creatures had been treated right.

Well, whatever. He’d stayed professional. …Mostly. That Johnny hadn’t mentioned his little brother's prolonged blue streak ricocheting over the comms was likely a sign that he’d felt the same way.

The fact the GDF were already briefed and waiting with an arrest warrant the second they’d touched down was probably another one.

A yellow light broke through his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. He batted the medi-scan away with a grunt.

“Would you quit it, Virg? I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gordon opened his mouth, ready to deliver a witty yet devastating retort, but then thought wiser of it. Better to just let the big guy get it all out of his system. He'd only worry otherwise, and a worried Virgil was a pain in the backside, especially with the flight home and debrief to get through. He closed his mouth and submitted to the inevitable with a huff.

Virgil for his part stayed quiet too as he completed the scan; once it was done, he continued to look Gordon over with the practised eye of both a medic and a big brother.

“Well, Doctor Virgil? Are you done? Can we go now?”

Another moment of scrutiny. Then: 

“You know today was a good day, right?”

Dammit. The big green angst-detector strikes again.

Gordon really didn’t want to talk about it now.

“Whatever you say, bro.”

“I mean it,” Virgil insisted. “You’ve said it yourself - this shelter is the best. They've got the facilities and the expertise; they’ll take good care of all these guys, big and small. And the GDF will make sure the people that did this get what's coming to them."

“Uh-huh.”

"Gordy, the good guys won. Take the win.”

Honestly it didn’t feel like a win. Not even a tiny one. The memory of all those sad little eyes was too raw. It was going to take a lot for it to fade into the background, and he just didn't have the energy right now. All he wanted was to get everything unloaded, go home, swim ‘til he couldn't think anymore and then crawl into bed and sleep for 12 hours.

"Virg, could we please do the pep talk another time? The shelter staff are waiting for us."

A little frown appeared on his brother's brow, but he sighed and nodded.

"Are they all okay in there?” Virgil asked instead, nodding at the box balancing on Gordon’s dashboard. 

It was an obvious change of subject, but a welcome one. Gordon gave the portable incubator a protective little pat.

“Should be. I candled them earlier and they look good. Not pipped yet, but I think it should be soon.”

He blinked as a sudden thought occurred.

“Actually," he said as he opened the incubator lid and retrieved the covered tray inside, "I’m just gonna check they’ve not been turned mid-flight. I’ve been holding them steady the whole way over, but you never know.”

“I thought you were supposed to turn eggs?” said Virgil with a hint of confusion. He leaned across to watch what Gordon was doing. "Grandpa said it stopped the embryo getting stuck."

“That’s for birds. Snakes are different. All the little veins and stuff are fragile; you flip the egg, the umbilical cord tears away and they die.” 

Gordon gingerly lifted the lid and peered inside. 

"Of course, these guys are almost ready to hatch so I don’t know how much of that appli-”

But the rest of his thought died on his tongue as he lifted the lid and took a look inside.

A beat.

“What?”

“Erm, not sure. Hang on a sec…” Gordon gently slid the eggs to one side of the tray and running his gloved hands very carefully in the sandy substrate below.

"Where are you?" he muttered softly.

"Where's what?" Virgil quickly jumped to his feet, unease radiating from every pore.

"One of the eggs must have hatched in transit," explained Gordon, still rifling through the soft gravel, looking for any flash of movement. "Once the shell breaks they usually take a few hours to come out, but I guess with all the jiggling…"

"Okay, so presumably there should be a snake in there then. Where’s the snake, Gordon?!"

Gordon kept digging, slightly more urgently. 

"Some snakes bury themselves down into the substrate after hatching - it’s a kinda protection thing. They wait there for their first shed, then they come out looking for food."

Virgil reached out gingerly over Gordon's shoulder and picked up the soft and clearly empty egg shell, complete with a neat split down the middle. He held it softly in his hands, turning it over and over as if he might find the wayward snake still clinging to it somewhere.

"Exactly what sort of snakes are these, Gordy?" he asked slowly, deliberately.

"Umm…”

“Gordon!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a snake expert, and you can only tell so much from just the eggshell anyway.” 

He set the tray onto the dashboard and started checking inside the incubator itself, just in case. He could feel heat starting to rise across his cheeks.

“Gords, could it be… poisonous?”

Gordon swallowed back the sour taste in his mouth.

“I don’t know.”

There was a moment of horrible silence as those words sunk in. Of course, the chances of the snake being venomous were slim - only about 10-15% of known species were after all - and in any event their uniforms were designed to withstand pretty much anything, but there was still that tiny sliver of doubt in his mind. Was Brains far-sighted enough to have considered snake fangs as a variable during the testing phase?

Virgil took a step back, eyes darting everywhere, and tapped his wrist controller. 

“I’m not picking anything up. John? Any chance you could run a sweep of the cockpit for… uh… unusual heat signatures?”

“Unusual?” 

John’s projected image leapt out of the dashboard holo’ right in front of Gordon’s face, causing him to almost fall off his chair. 

“What sort of unusual?”

Virgil cleared his throat in a far-too-obviously guilty way. 

“We’ve kind of… misplaced something.”

“O-kaaay… What sort of something?”

Gordon opened his mouth to say… Actually he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but in any case Virgil got there first.

“Can you just do it please, John?” he asked, brow furrowed. "Now?"

The look John shot them both could have stripped paint, but he turned away and started swiping.

“No unusual readings found,” he said after a few seconds. "Perhaps if I knew what I was looking for…”

Gordon caught Virgil’s eye. Despite his obvious concern about the situation, the big chonk was clearly still trying to cover for him. 

He really was the softest marshmallow.

But as touched as he was, right now the most important thing wasn't avoiding blame; it was finding the snake before anyone got hurt, including the creature itself. There would be time to wriggle out of Scott and John’s inevitable lecture later.

“The signal’s likely very subtle,” he said, drawing John's attention. “He’s cold-blooded, so his core temperature’s gonna be mirroring the immediate environment. Look at components a little below body temperature and check for tiny, unexplained fluctuations.”

“Cold-bl… You lost a reptile?!”

“A snake,” clarified Virgil.

There was a moment while John processed this new information, then he closed his eyes and pinched the top of his nose. 

“Of course it's a snake(!)” He sighed. “EOS? Did you catch all that?”

EOS’s voice rang through clear over the comms. “Yes, John. Checking now…”

“In the meantime,” said John, “I suggest you put your helmets back on, just to be safe. The less exposed skin you two have the better.”

The brothers nodded. 

Gordon set the incubator down and grabbed his helmet from the dash in front of him, just as EOS brought up a schematic of the cockpit onto the screen in front of him.

“There’s a slight irregularity in temperature around the co-pilot’s control panel, but it’s too indistinct to pin down to a specific component.”

Gordon’s eyes darted all over the dashboard in front of him. 

Where?

Scrabbling to push his chair back and get his helmet on, he vaguely heard Virgil say something about lifting the main cover off the console before he was suddenly distracted by a sharp, stabbing pain in his right cheek, just above the jaw.

“Yeow!”

Virgil was by his side immediately, mediscanner in hand. “What?! What is it?”

Gordon remained in his chair, sitting stock still.

"Don’ scan.”

"What?"

"Don' scan. Th' noise'll scare 'im."

Virgil's eyes went wide.

"Where is it?" he whispered, looking him up and down.

“I’z on m’ face."

“What?!?”

“On. M’. Face. W’z inside th’ helmet.”

Virgil and John exchanged a panicked look.

…Yep.

By rights, Gordon should have been scared. After all, there was a chance he could die here; the little danger-noodle might be pumping deadly venom into him by the second. But surprisingly he wasn’t overly worried about that possibility just now. In fact he felt strangely calm and clear-headed. What was done was done after all, and the priority now was to a) not do anything to make the snake strike again (him or Virgil); and b) get it secured.

“Ah’m gonna slowly r’move th’ helmet," he mumbled, trying not to move his mouth too much. "When y’ see ‘im, grab ‘im c’refully b’hind th’ head an’ unhook ‘im.”

Keeping his head stock still, he looked sidelong at his big brother to check he’d understood. Poor Virg looked pale, but he nodded and shifted into position in front of him, mouth set in a grim line. Behind him, John's face was a picture of worry.

“R'dy?” Gordon asked. 

Virgil nodded, hands poised.

He gave a little blink in lieu of a smile. “Okay."

Deep breath.

"One. Two. ‘Hree.”

And slowly he took off his helmet.

Virgil reached forwards and closed his hand next to his face. Gordon's skin pulled painfully for a moment, then released, leaving a sharp echo across his cheek.  

He exhaled in a big whoosh that seemed to come from his very soul, and raised his eyes to finally look on the thing that had bitten him.

“Scanning for a species match now,” said John urgently as Virgil stepped back, holding the offending creature out at arm’s length. “Cross-matching size, markings and-”

“It’s a Children’s Python!”

“A what?” Virgil asked roughly.

John took a massive breath in. “Oh thank god! Are you sure?”

“Certain,” replied Gordon, finding his feet and bouncing over to look a bit closer, all concern for his safety gone. “We had one as a class pet in 5th grade. Native to Northern Australia. Fantastic pets.”

“I can confirm the identification, John” said EOS. “The species is non-venomous.”

All the remaining colour drained from Virgil's face. He lowered himself down shakily into his chair, arm still outstretched. “Well in that case would someone please come and take this thing out of my hand before I have a heart attack?”

“Oops! Yep, give me one second…” 

Gordon grabbed the tray of eggs and fished out a roll of electrical tape from one of his console drawers. 

“This should keep the lid secure until we can get him into the shelter, at least.”

Gordon reached out and gently took hold of the little snake, who had stopped thrashing around and instead seemed content to curl its body gently around his hand. He took a second to admire its beautiful mottled markings in light and dark brown, and the gentle undulation of muscles pulsing as it moved.

"Hey, little guy."

The tiny snake flicked its tongue at him, tasting the air.

Slowly, gently, Gordon encouraged the snake back in the tray, extracted his hand, and then put the lid on and taped it down.

As soon as the tray was closed, John seemed to deflate like he was the one who’d been punctured.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t ever scare me like that again, okay guys? My cortisol levels can't take it."

"Take it easy John," soothed Virgil as he stumbled over to examine Gordon's cheek. "You sit back and have a float and we'll finish up here." 

He took Gordon by the chin and turned his face to the side. 

"...C'mon Blofeld, let's get you cleaned up."

…

Fifteen minutes later and sporting a natty Baby Shark band-aid on his cheek, Gordon skipped across the animal shelter car park towards the front desk. Alongside him, Virgil carried the now-definitely-sealed incubator. (Gordon had argued it was his privilege as 'the walking wounded’ not to have to carry stuff. Virgil had just rolled his eyes and agreed, muttering something about checking for himself to ensure no more 'jailbreaks'.)

Behind them, a dozen or so vets and other volunteers were unloading the various other crates of animals from Two's hold, checking them over and directing them to their respective enclosures.

Gordon grinned.

"Feeling better now?" asked Virgil, quirking a smile in reply.

He was, in more ways than one. Somehow, staring into the face of that tiny serpent had made him feel a lot more positive about everything. Nature really was amazing. If a baby creature, just out of its egg, could survive and protect itself in a hostile environment like that little one had today, then with a little bit of care he was sure the other animals they'd rescued would as well.

Life was good. He had his health, he had his family, and they’d done good today. 

Suddenly overcome with happiness, he couldn’t help doing a little jumping air punch, earning a low chuckle from his left.

"You were right, Virg. Today really was a win.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. "Not sure I'd quite describe it that way, but if you say so. You did still set a snake loose in my ‘bird, though.”

“Hey, don't blame me! I'm as much a victim as you are. Little Hissy Houdini's a force all of his own.”

A pause. “You named him?”

“Yep! Kinda fitting, don’t you think?”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. 

"You’re not keeping him.”

Gordon gasped dramatically. 

“Virgil Tracy, I am shocked! I would never-”

“Sully the Gully, Puppy Longstocking, Razorbill Bob, the Swift Family Robinson…”

“...again. Never again.”

“Well that’s just as well then, because I don’t think Scott would appreciate finding this little escapologist in his sock drawer, do you?"

As Gordon contemplated all of the delicious trickster-y possibilities that that image brought up, he stretched and gave his back another series of cracks.

Virgil regarded him coolly. "You sound like a goddamn popcorn maker," he grumbled. "Speaking of, I wonder if the others'd be up for a movie night tonight? I feel like we've earned a bit of down time."

"Sounds good to me," said Gordon, flinging an arm around the big man's shoulders. "And I have the perfect one in mind… You like Samuel L Jackson films, right?"

[ajpendragon]

I know it's the 5th, and not the 7th, but these turned themselves into a story along with number 14, and the two are in the wrong order. So have a little emotional whump to brighten your day.

Radio Silence

Radio Silence. Any rescue coordinator’s worst nightmare. At best, it simply meant your operative was ignoring you. Over the years, John had dealt with enough annoying younger brothers (and occasionally older ones) who were either mad at him, or simply too distracted to answer. Sometimes, it was simply a comm malfunction, which, although stressful, was easily fixed back at home. But today…

Today was the worst-case scenario. 

It shouldn’t have been a hard rescue. As far as disasters went, this one was relatively minor. The collapsing building was the first in the new development, so there was nothing else nearby it could bring down with it, and it was still under construction, so it was relatively empty. 

Virgil and Gordon had been tag-teaming it, alternating getting people out and shoring up the weakest points. The building was going to come down, there was no question about that, but they could delay it until everyone was out. 

“You’re doing great, guys.” John encouraged, eyes darting between life signs, weak points, and his brothers’ vitals. “There’s one more life sign in the southeast corner of the building. Looks like ground level or lower.”

He could see the weight lifting off their shoulders as they wiped dust and sweat from the foreheads. They were both flagging, he could tell, but they would finish the job. Gordon grinned brightly. “I got this, Virgil. Keep my exit open until I come back.” He dashed out of view, his hologram flickering out. 

Virgil sighed heavily. “He’s doing too much, John. He’s going to burn himself out.”

“I know, Virgil. After this, he’s on mandatory downtime for the next week. You both are.”

Virgil shook his head, moving to secure a crumbling beam. “I can keep going.”

“Funny. That’s exactly what Gordon would say. You’re both grounded. You’re way over your flight hours.”

Later, John would blame his lack of focus on bickering with Virgil. Whatever it was, he missed the yellow blip on his screen indicating a major weak point until it turned blaring red. 

“The building’s coming down now!” He shouted. “Get out of there.”

Virgil responded immediately, getting clear fast enough to avoid the debris, but Gordon must have been underground, for all they could hear from his comm was static. 

“Gordon? Gordon!?!” John and Virgil both shouted simultaneously. John’s hands were flying, pulling up images of the building and Gordon’s last known location, as well as any other information he had. “EOS! Get me Gordon’s suit readouts, now!”

“I cannot. Gordon’s suit appears to be malfunctioning or damaged. There is no data transmitting.”

Just then, the rubble shifted, a few last pieces of debris settling down, and the garbled static from Gordon’s comm cut off, leaving something worse…

Silence

[katblu42]

Just a Little Setback

For the Whump Couch challenge organised by @uniwolfcorn, here is our contribution. Fic by me, awesome art (and assistance with story ideas) by the wonderful @nourelle-tracy.

A little bit of FishTank post SOS hurt/comfort for you all.

Just a Little Setback

Four o’clock in the afternoon was far too early to feel this sleepy. Okay, granted Gordon was still healing from some very nasty injuries, and taking some medications that had a tendency to wipe him out for a while, but lately his sleep schedule had evened out into a consistent pattern and this was not normal.

Sleepy and hot.  Okay, so they lived in the tropics and hot was a relative term, but lounging on the couch in the sunken lounge area usually didn’t have him feeling like a reptile under a heat lamp.

He considered letting his eyes drift closed and settling in for a nap, but Virgil would be here any minute to help him through his daily physio exercises. 

Thirsty.  He was incredibly thirsty.

Gordon could normally roll himself up into a sitting position and reach for his water bottle in one smooth move, but today the motion had his vision suddenly full of sparkles and the whole room spinning.

A steadying hand landed on his shoulder.  Large, strong, but gentle.

“Gordon?”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He immediately regretted giving the automatic response.  Medic mode level one was already engaged before his big brother had even spoken, and that answer was likely to dial up the smothering to at least level five, if not all the way up to ten.

The water bottle was deposited into Gordon’s hand, and as he took a swig, cool fingers traced across the uninjured side of his forehead, brushing damp hair back from his eyes.

“Wanna try that again, Squid?”  Virgil’s deep baritone and soft brown eyes both exuded concern as he knelt in front of the couch where Gordon sat trying not to look as helpless as he felt.  A medscanner appeared as if by magic, no doubt procured from some pocket or other.  Yep – medic mode was definitely fully engaged now.

Gordon let out a huge sigh, which then left him feeling slightly dizzy and had him gladly leaning into the security of that familiar hold Virgil still had on his shoulder.

“Feeling sleepy,” Gordon confessed.  “And hot.”

“Mmm.”  Virgil studied the readings from the medscanner.  “You’re running a fever.  Looks like that head wound of yours has become infected.”

Gordon merely groaned in answer.

The fingers returned to stroke through his hair again.

“Don’t worry, Gords.  It’s just a little setback.  We’ll get it sorted, I promise.”

Virgil encouraged Gordon to drink more of his water, then disappeared to grab some supplies from the infirmary and talk to Grandma about antibiotics to treat the infection.  He returned minutes later and began carefully removing the bandage from Gordon’s forehead.

Gordon wasn’t sure when, but at some point during Virgil’s ministrations Grandma had appeared and given him some pills and another glass of water.  Antibiotics to treat the infection.  He wasn’t thrilled about yet another medication to add to the list, but he knew better than to argue with Grandma.

The cool dampness of the cloth Virgil applied to clean the wound was a welcome relief from the unrelenting heat of the fever and Gordon counted himself lucky to have family around him to take care of him like this.  His heavy-lifting brother’s hands were reassuringly steady, every action perfectly deliberate, but ever so gentle as he finished redressing the wound.

“Now get some rest, little brother,” Virgil said softly once he was done.  “You can sleep here, or I can take you up to your room if you’d rather sleep in your own bed.”

He wanted to protest, but one look into those big brown eyes and he knew he didn’t have it in him to fight the mother bear right now.

“I’ll stay here,” was his meek reply.

Virgil gave a nod as a fond smile crept across his face, and he sat on the couch beside his injured brother, gently easing them both into a position such that Gordon lay with his head cradled in a  pillow on his big brother’s lap.  One cheek rested against the warm flannel of Virgil’s shirt and he could hear the rhythm of a heartbeat. The gentle rise and fall of each breath almost felt like the lull of waves rocking a boat on the water.

Again the stroking fingers returned, along with the musical vibration of Virgil’s soft humming. A familiar tune, one of Gordon’s favourites.  Who knew sea shanties could be such good lullabies.

[prodigal-explorer]

i resent the fact that in the whump community, small people are always victims while larger people are always threats. small people have just as much potential to be whumpers and larger people have just as much potential to be whumpees. this concept below is an example of how terrifying a reverse size difference can truly be.

cw for antagonistic patton, abuse/whump, and gaslighting and victim-blaming.

sanders sides whump concept in which patton is very small and petite, and he's seen as this sweet, innocent little angel. but in reality, he's quite abusive. take roman for instance. the prince, who's supposed to be big and strong to represent bravery. or virgil, the protector, who's supposed to be muscular and powerful.

imagine the possibilities that come with patton showing these two that there are ways to hurt somebody besides using brute strength. and when they try to tell somebody that patton's hurting them, nobody believes them.

"oh, please, patton wouldn't hurt a fly! besides, he's much smaller than you. how much damage could he really do?"

"if anything, he's the one who should be afraid of you, what, with your size difference!"

and to rub salt into the wound, maybe patton body-shames his victims and makes them believe the situation is their fault.

"maybe if you lost a couple, you wouldn't be in this situation for as long as you have. consider this inspiration."

[tracybirds]

For @katblu42 - second prompt from @gumnut-logic's Little Whump List which she also kindly read through for me :D

Thank you very much!! I'll be finishing up requests for this in the next few days - they've been a fun diversion from all the other tasks I've had going <3

Warnings: upset stomach + nausea

4. Tummy ache

John groaned, his head rather nearer to the toilet seat than he would normally like, but unable to pull himself into a more dignified position even as the bathroom door opened behind him.

Gordon plopped down on the floor next to him and John closed his eyes to his easy grin.

"What do you want?" he asked.

A column of air forced its way out of his throat, and John held a hand over his mouth, trying in vain to hold back a belch.

"Oh, Virgil saw you slip out and mentioned it to me," said Gordon cheerfully. "Seemed to think you just needed a break."

A vicious growl clawed at John's insides as his stomach clenched tightly and he leaned forward and heaved involuntarily.

"Yeah," said Gordon grimly. "I thought I saw you eating far too much of that cream cheese."

"Shut up, Gordon," spat John, sucking in shallow breaths.

"I'm just saying," said Gordon. "What did you think lactose intolerant meant?"

"The doctor said I could have cheese," whined John. "What else am I meant to put on my bagel?"

A rumble echoed through the room and he groaned again.

"I think you'll find he said you could probably have cheese," said Gordon helpfully. "But to take it easy."

"Don't talk," grunted John, waves of nausea running through his body. His stomach spasmed and he moaned. "I thought the supplements were meant to help."

Gordon rubbed his back, mirth giving way to sympathy, in a sudden rush. He didn't like to see his brother curled up in misery, and he knew this would be a lesson hard learnt.

"Sorry Johnny, but I've seen how much you put on those bagels. All the supplements in the world couldn't save you."

"This sucks," said John.

"Want me to get Virgil?"

"No."

"Do you have that list of remedies Dr Fred gave you?"

"On my phone," said John. He shrugged Gordon off him and staggered to his feet.

"Sit down, I'll get it," said Gordon rolling his eyes.

John flopped back down and rested his forehead on the cool porcelain seat.

"Just leave me here," he groaned. "It'll pass."

"Something will pass," muttered Gordon, ignoring the poisonous look John shot at him as he scrolled through John's neatly organised notes. "Looks like doctor's orders are gentle exercise and the good old pink stuff."

"I hate the pink stuff."

"Come on Johnny," said Gordon, hauling his brother upright. "Short walk to the infirmary. You're gonna be just fine."

"I'm never eating bagels again," moaned John, clutching his stomach. "It's not worth it."

"We'll find you a new breakfast," promised Gordon. "But bags not on explaining to Virg why you were foolish enough to even try with the cream cheese."

John paled, the sheen of nausea glistening as he felt sick for an entirely new reason.

"I'm a dead man," he murmured. "He's going to kill me."

"Actually, I'm just going to ground you," said Virgil suddenly from behind them, making the two men jump. "Seventy-two hour stand-down, that's the rule with nausea."

John shook his head.

"Fine. I don't even care. Just fix me."

Virgil patted his back in sympathy.

"Let's go then, I've got the stuff."

[gumnut-logic]

Thunderfam

I'm seeing a few almost distressed posts regarding the episode showdown bouncing around Thunderfam.

I just wanted to remind everyone that the showdown thingy is just for fun and really totally meaningless.

It doesn't matter which episodes win or fail to get enough votes. It doesn't alter the episodes or the characters we love.

We all love different episodes for different reasons and that does not need a qualifier where everyone else agrees. We are all Thunderfam and we all love Thunderbirds in whatever incarnation we prefer for whatever reason.

So please don't be sad if a fav gets 'voted' out. It doesn't really mean anything.

Scotty still does everything too fast, Virgil is still the cool and collected one, John can still mess with the financials of anyone in the solar system, Gordon is still the Fish and Alan is still the kid genius who got his rocket license before he could drive (well, in TAG, anyway :D ). As are all the characters we love.

Not stress worthy. Keep the angst in the fic and art :D Don't whump yourself ::hugs the lot of you::

Nutty

(a little worried that peeps are getting sad about this)

[skymaiden32]

Here is my entry for @uniwolfcorn ‘s Whump Couch, ft. her boy Alan! ^^ (Sorry if this is a little late)

Artwork (base by Uni, Alan by me):

Story:

Consequences

AO3 link here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

When Alan is injured on a rescue and keeps it secret from his brothers, he learns very quickly that hiding these sorts of things has consequences.

Continuity: TOS

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be updated when I update or write new stories)

------

It had started in his left arm, a tingly sensation that was his only warning something was wrong before the limb went entirely numb. He barely remembered the fall that caused it. All he remembered was practically his entire weight falling on top of it. He’d brushed off his brothers’ worried questions, but now he wanted to call it quits. Get Scott to call Virgil over and patch him up. Hell, he knew he should’ve done just that. But they’d only been in the Danger Zone for two hours. And given how extensive the flooded area was, with so many people who needed their help, Alan knew they would be there for a full day at the least. They couldn’t afford to have a man down right now.

So Alan had stayed, avoiding the problem with typical Tracy stubbornness, and pushed through. The more he did, the worse the pain became, spreading across his entire being until he couldn’t take it any longer. By the end, he felt like his entire body was on fire. He let out a small sigh of relief when it was finally time to go home. He noticed Scott’s concerned glare in his direction as they packed up the equipment, Gordon and Virgil giving him similar looks, and he tried to push down the wave of guilt.

Now, he watched Virgil start pre-flight checks, flicking on controls tiredly, but with enough experience and training behind him that no-one was afraid of him falling asleep at the wheel. The engines roared into life, and the great green ship took to the sky, not far behind her silver sister. Gordon took notice of the exact moment his little brother blacked out from the pain, and sighed, catching Virgil’s attention.

“Welp.” The aquanaut began, popping the p. “I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to hide it for almost the whole time. I didn’t even realise something was wrong till we were packing up.”

Virgil huffed, switching Thunderbird Two to auto-pilot and moving from his pilot’s chair to where his youngest brother lay motionless in one swift motion. “He had me fooled too.” He was ashamed to admit it. Virgil was the medic, he was supposed to notice. Now, he grimaced when he saw the state of Alan’s arm. His brother was lucky this wasn’t worse. “And we both know Scott would’ve gone into full panic Smotherhen mode if he’d noticed anything wrong.” Virgil moved to the back of the cabin, grabbing what he needed from the first-aid cabinet.

“He’s probably blaming himself for it all right now.” Gordon mused worriedly.

“And we’re gonna snap him out of it once we’re done with Mr. Secrets here.” Virgil gestured to Alan’s prone form, rolling his eyes fondly. The frown was ever present on his face. “For now, though, hold him in place while I set his arm.”

The aquanaut nodded, determined. “Aye, aye, Doc.” When they had finally finished, Gordon lay Alan’s head gently in his lap, combing his fingers through wet and sticky blond hair. “Yeesh, Al…” Gordon muttered. “You really need a shower.”

------

By the time Alan finally woke up, it was to the sick-bay on Tracy Island, Scott and his father watching over him with looks that were the perfect blend between angry and worried. Virgil was standing just inside the room, leaning against the doorway in the case he needed to intervene. He was dead. He was so dead…

“And just what exactly were you thinking, young man?” Jeff asked maybe a little too harshly, raising an eyebrow.

Scott rolled his eyes, giving the patriarch a look. “Dad, please. He just woke up…” 

Jeff sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right.” He looked back to his youngest, adjusting his tone to something a hint gentler. “You alright to talk, son?” Alan nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. “Oh, good…”

“Gordon left a few hours to pick up Tin-Tin from her doctor’s appointment. They’ll be back soon. That being said, why did you think hiding an injury like that would be a good idea?” Scott echoed their father’s earlier question. 

“We were worried about you, Al.” Virgil piped up from the other side of the room. Jeff and Scott nodded in agreement. “You were incredibly lucky it wasn’t a compound fracture.” He admitted.

This statement made everyone else in the room freeze. “It-” Scott’s voice was uncharacteristically small. “It was that bad?” 

Virgil nodded solemnly. “Gordon can back up that claim…” The family medic whispered.

“He doesn’t need to.” Jeff spoke up, immediately picking up on the idea that Virgil might be doubting himself. “We have full faith in your medical expertise, son.” Virgil didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded.

“I’m sorry…” Alan’s voice came out so shaky from the pain as he moved that he hardly recognised it, but he was determined to get the words out. “I knew I should’ve come to you guys sooner.” His voice regulated the more he talked. “But we had so much ground to cover and only four of us. I couldn’t just let you all work your butts off while I was stuck in Two’s med-bay doing nothing!”

The three older Tracy’s exchanged a look, before Scott huffed, not unkindly. “Alan, let me worry about stuff like that. You know the authorities were there to assist. I would’ve rather been a man down than have you still working with that arm.”

“But-”

Scott cut off his objection. “If you really would’ve been that bored in Two, I would’ve given you something to do.” He smiled tiredly at his brother, ruffling his hair. “Probably would’ve let you take Mobile Control…” He shrugged, smirking as he broke his gaze with Alan briefly.

“Aww man…” Alan lamented. He’d wanted a chance to man Mobile Control again for months. 

Virgil chuckled. “That’s what you get for ignoring protocol and not telling us you’d broken. Your. Arm!” The annoyed gaze was back.

Jeff cleared his throat, drawing his boys’ attention back to him. “All that aside, what you did today was very dangerous, Alan. What if you needed to operate the heavy machinery? What if, heaven forbid, our enemies had picked up on your injury and taken advantage? You should’ve told the others straight away.”

“I know, Father. I’m sorry…”

“I know you are, son. I’ll let you rest for now, but we will be talking about this more later, okay?” 

“Okay.” And with that, their father was gone, likely to let the rest of the family know he was awake. “Thank God John’s only just started his month on Five…” Alan groaned. “And Tin is probably out of her mind I really messed this one up, didn’t I?”

Neither of his brothers present said a word. Instead, all they heard were the sounds of heavy footsteps before the door flew open once more, and Alan was face to face with his partner in crime, the love of his life right on his heels. “Are you okay, Alan?!” Gordon practically yelled, earning him a stern glance from Scott.

Alan chuckled, clinging onto the hand Tin-Tin offered. The look in her eyes told him she’d be giving him her own lecture later. “I will be, Gords.” He let his eyes slip closed, safe in the knowledge that he had the most amazing family watching over him. He’d never keep them in the dark again. “I will be…”

[the-princey-pie]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗 (apologies for sending chain letters but i'll be honest: i DO find myself wanting to know which of an author's works they're most excited about at any given moment.)

Ayeee thank you for the neat ask game! I do wonder too what's someone's favorite works and why! Everyone who sees this feel free o do it too cause imma send this along on anon <3

Summer Wine In Verdant Winters

The last longer fantasy AU I've written about Virgil running a tavern to hide from his traumatic past. Naturally it comes back to haunt him. It has a cottagecore setting with some high fantasy elements on top of the found family and I've salviated writing all the food descriptions

Damocles' Gambit

Admittedly, I'm cheating here a bit by linking the entire series. But this has arranged marriage turned found family with some delicious hurt/comfort where King Thomas gets to be the best dad we all wished we had

Burning Fireflies

It's the best Roceit I've ever written where Roman is the loyal knight going after the runaway thief Janus - I'm just a sucker for tales about loyality and the tragedy that comes with it when it's mistrusted

Noblesse Oblige

Stemming from my Bridgerton obsession I just had to make it gay. So then we have some fake dating turned real feelings Loceit with a little mystery twist for spice. I cried while writing it but it's also the most beautiful imagery I've managed to this day

A Tad(pole) Tied Up At The Moment

The first Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic I've ever written (and am currently writing) where Astarion gets whumped properly before he gets the comfort from Halsin he deserves

[tss-whumper]

*materializes into existence*

Hi :D

Inspired by your whump tss fics!

Anyway, mayhaps an idea: Whumpee is very distrustful of everyone, even after being rescued. The only person who can come close to them without them getting very tense is Caretaker. The rest of the team is... well, unsure about Whumpee at this point. Someone says something that sounds a little too much like Whumper (accidental trigger), and Caretaker is the only one who can calm Whumpee down.

Do with that what ya will.

Have fun :D

hi!! thank you so much for the support, this is an amazing idea! i think i'm going to do my heroes and villains au for this one, it's a really good fit for this particular prompt, plus, father figure janus has my WHOLE HEART he's the best caretaker.

this fic features whumpee roman, caretaker janus, and mentions of whumper patton! also, logan and virgil are there but they aren't really anything they're just chillin'. logan is just trying his best.

also the beginning kinda just offers some general exposition to the au and the dynamics so it's just short little snippets of life before the big angst bomb comes raining down.

(cw -> past parental abuse, flashbacks, panic attacks, brief physical violence)

Roman wasn't a violent dog.

But he knew why he bit.

Every night, he saw the face of his uncle, the man who raised him, the man who taught him everything about the world. And he shivered, because while he never wanted to see Patton again, he also wanted nothing more than to be enveloped in his arms one more time.

When he looked in the mirror, Roman wanted to erase himself and start over from the beginning. Permanent scars that were never going away, endless reminders of what a failure he had been. His gauntlet was the only part of him that was pristine, and even that was so out of his reach.

Janus told him that it was Patton's fault that he didn't know how to use his powers, but Roman just couldn't believe it. He was a superhero. He had to know how to use his powers no matter what. Being a kid was no excuse. Being young and impressionable was no excuse. Being starved and beaten and tortured every time he made the smallest mistake was still not an excuse.

Roman was a hero. He had to be better.

--

"Virgil, come on, how many times do I have to remind you to wipe your feet before walking in?" Logan groaned, "We're guests in this house, we should not be dirtying it."

"Sorry, Pa," Virgil mumbled, "I'll clean it up."

"Thank you," Logan said, "And have half a mind not to do it again."

Roman, who was seated on the couch as this argument occurred, squeezed his eyes shut steeling himself as he waited for the slap. Or the hit. Or a cry of pain from Virgil. But seconds passed, and there was no sound except for the spray cleaner and scrubbing the floor. The mess took all of ten seconds to clean up, if that. Roman didn't understand. When he was under punishment with Patton and had to clean floors, it felt like it took much longer.

--

Roman's face was wet with tears, but he found himself feeling scarily numb as he sat in Janus' lap, fiddling with the gemstone necklaces held loosely around his neck with common kitchen twine.

"Ro...we really need to do something about these nightmares," Janus murmured, nothing but warmth in his voice and body. Roman almost felt safe in his arms. "It's not healthy for a kid your age to be waking up screaming every night."

"I'm sorry, sir," Roman said flatly, still trapped in a hellish haze, "I'll be better. I'll do anything you want, just spare me. Please."

Janus could feel his heart shatter in two. He hugged the teenager close, starting to pet his hair gently.

"Oh, baby..." Janus whispered, "What on Earth are we gonna do with you...?"

--

"If you hate me so much, maybe you should just put me back where I came from! You didn't have to adopt me, you could have just gotten a perfect kid instead!"

It was rare for Virgil to shout, so when Roman heard it, he was shaken immediately. Out of pure self preservation, he hid himself in the blanket he had been wearing. When Logan and Virgil argued, it was difficult, and it was messy. They were both headstrong people, which often led to butting heads more than either of them, or the two people they lived with, liked.

"Virgil, don't be ridiculous, I don't hate you!" Logan retaliated, "I just want you to stop closing yourself off, it's useless to try and handle everything in the world by yourself! You're just a child, when will you get that through your head??"

"Maybe I will once you stop micromanaging me like I'm five years old!" Virgil yelled, "I'm not a baby anymore, Pa, I don't need you hovering over my shoulder! Do you know how hard it is to be known as the tattletale at school?? Do you even care?? No, you don't, because all you care about is making yourself feel helpful!"

"I could strangle you right now!"

"Fine! Do it, see if I care!"

Virgil stormed off, slamming the door to his room, causing Roman to tremble where he sat. Oh, boy. Virgil was going to get it now. Roman waited for Logan to roar, to scream at Virgil to open the door before he regretted ever raising his voice at him. The thought made Roman so nervous. Virgil was injured already. He couldn't handle being strangled too. He just couldn't.

So Roman did the heroic thing: he stepped in.

Before Logan could take another step towards Virgil's room, Roman rushed in front of him.

"Virgil didn't mean it, Virgil didn't mean that!" he insisted, his words spilling over each other.

"Were you listening in to our conversation?" Logan sputtered, his face turning a bit red, "Wh- why would you do that? That was between me and Virgil, it has nothing to do with you!"

Logan side-stepped Roman, coming closer to Virgil's room. In a panic, Roman lunged at Logan, hoping to protect Virgil from any sort of wrath.

"Get off me!" Logan exclaimed, "Roman, what are you doing??"

"Stay away from him!" Roman begged as he punched and kicked blindly, thinking of nothing except weakening Logan, protecting Virgil. Weakening Logan, protecting Virgil. It was his responsibility. "He's still healing!"

"Roman, stop!" Logan pleaded, "Please, stop it, you're hurting me!"

Roman was much younger than Logan. But he wasn't that much weaker. He was a young hero, having trained his entire life to fight people, while Logan was just a civilian. No superpowers, no training. He was a bit fragile, in fact. So it wasn't a surprise that Roman was "winning" this exchange, but the child was too blinded by panic to realize this.

"Don't touch Virgil!" Roman begged, "Don't, please, he can't handle it! He can't handle that, he's good, he's good, he'll be good!"

"Janus!" Logan started to scream, thrashing to get away from Roman, "Janus, help me!"

And just then, Roman's entire world seemed to stop.

Logan's begging and crying for help sounded so much like his own. The way his words would bounce against the wall, hitting nobody as he was forced to endure hours of torture in solitary confinement, no sound to keep him company except for his own fruitless pleading. Logan already sounded so defeated. He sounded like he was ready to die. Just like Roman had been all those times before.

Roman's breathing grew shallow and stuttered, and the second he loosened his grip, Logan scrambled out of Roman's arms, shoving him hard. As Janus raced into the room, he saw his child hyperventilating, and Logan with a scratched up face and broken glasses.

"What- what on Earth happened here?" Janus demanded, "Logan, what did you do??"

"What did I do?" Logan repeated, "Why are you asking me that?? Roman's the one that attacked me, he tried to kill me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I'm sorry-!" Roman whispered, starting to grip his own hair as he curled in on himself.

"He's a little monster!"

Roman's shallow breathing turned into desperate gasps as he wheezed irregularly, his chest rising and falling largely.

"There's ice in the freezer, I'm so sorry, Lo. I'm so sorry. I should have warned you- I'll pay for your glasses."

"No need," Logan said coldly, "I need some space, if you don't mind. I'm getting tired of being attacked from all sides."

Janus opened his mouth to say something to Logan as the angry man left, but he was distracted by the sound of Roman's fight for air. When Janus looked over, the child had tears streaming down his face, his eyes large and wild, as if he was a wounded animal.

"Darling...come here," Janus whispered sitting on the floor in front of Roman and starting to pull him close.

"No, please," Roman whispered, "Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I- I-"

"Shh...shh, Roman, don't speak," Janus murmured, hugging Roman gently. "Breathe. I understand. I understand you. I do."

Janus saw so much of himself in those terrified brown eyes. Roman just wanted to protect somebody, and it had gone way too far. What was the poor kid to do? Of course, he had to apologize to Logan. But that would have to be at another time.

Roman shuddered, and before he could overthink anymore, he threw himself into Janus' arms, sobbing vehemently into his shoulder. Guilt washed over him like waves, and he almost wished that Patton was around to punish him. It was what he deserved for attacking somebody weaker than him. In that regard, was Roman really any different from Patton?

"I'm bad," Roman mumbled, "I'm bad, I'm a villain- I'm horrible-..."

"Shh," Janus repeated, rubbing gentle circles onto Roman's back, "Shh, darling. You're not bad. You're not a villain. You're a child. You're a child who's scared. Let yourself be scared. I'm here for you. I'm going to protect you, sweet thing. I promise."

"But what about Logan?" Roman asked, staring up at Janus with tear-stained cheeks and round eyes that broke Janus' heart.

"Logan will be okay, darling," Janus reassured, "He will be. I'm going to help him, and I'll take him to the doctor's, and I'll make sure he's doing okay. He'll understand. He will. He's got to."

"I don't know why I did that," Roman whimpered, "I don't know why I kept going, I could have stopped, he cried for help, I could have stopped!"

"I know, baby, I know," Janus soothed, "I know how it feels. I know. You made a mistake. You messed up. But you're not in trouble. You're not going to get hurt because you hurt someone else. What's the use of that? Then, everybody is hurt, and nobody is happy. Does that make sense?

"I- I- I guess so," Roman whispered, "But- Logan hates me. He hates me now, he hates me, he thinks I'm a monster-"

"He does not think that," Janus said calmly, "He was speaking while he was angry. Think about it. Do you say what you mean when you're angry? Does anybody?"

Roman shuddered. Patton did. But he didn't say so.

"It'll be okay, sweetie," Janus reassured, continuing to hold Roman as he rocked the teenager gently on the carpeted floor. "It's okay."

Janus used to be a violent dog too.

He understood why Roman bit.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

*materializes into existence*

Hey :D

[beware, this is long]

Idk if you're doing prompts rn (if not, that's okay; remember to take care of yourself). But if you are, may I request some Creativitwins h/c?

I love feral protective Remus <3

Maybe Roman has a terrifying nightmare and his own intrusive thoughts are just so loud, so he wakes up (almost screaming). Idk, maybe it's about being separated from his brother again and some sort of autophobia sets in? Maybe he panics and has a panic attack about it? Anyway: the others don't really know about his nightmares cause, ya know, angst and insecurities. Virgil can probably feel/taste all his anxiousness n stuff but it takes him far too long to recognize it as Roman's?

Maybe Remus is the one who finds him cause his intrusive thoughts are so loud, especially now with all the aftermath of the wedding n stuff. So he goes to Roman's room, hears what sounds like a terrified scream, and helps his bro out. Maybe all the moral confusion from Patton and now Janus being accepted and how he hurt both Janus and Logan just really screws with him? Like all his insecurities just completely intensify. Like from maybe some 'cold shoulder' and slight unsympathetic behavior from most of the others just makes it worse, and so he locks himself in his room and hides the fact that he has terrifying nightmares? Cause who would help him, he's been so mean to everyone, he doesn't deserve it- (ya know, the usual Roman angst).

So yeah, Remus helps out his bro. Virgil finally realizes that it's Roman's panic attack he's sensing (and he is so sorry and guilty and ashamed of how long it took; and oh no, everything clicks). So he goes to help and Remus is calming his bro down, and is just so protective of him cause that's HIS brother that they've all hurt. Ain't no way he's letting this go, no matter what Roman says. No one gets to mess with his bro unless it's HIM.

Anyway, it ends with Remus and Virgil calming him down and giving him a butt (ha) load of reassurance n shizz. Maybe some confrontation with the others? Maybe some h/c with the others comforting Roman as well and apologizing for being idiots? Like a platonic dlampr, platonic creativitwins kind of fic?

You can always add some 'bruised ego' whump or something if ya want. Always a classic.

Anyway, love your fics! Hope you're doing well :D

this one got away from me a little...probably not in a way that you were expecting/wanted but! I did my best

[astranite]

Fanfic self-rec!!

So a while ago I got tagged by @forest-falcon (im 99% sure), and I didn't get to it at the time, but I really wanted to do it! So here it is, very belatedly and based entirely off my memory of the post because I don't have the energy to conduct an archaelogical excavation of my blog as I can only hope I tagged it well.

~very paraphrased~ rec five(?) of your works and why you are proud of them. Then tag x amount of people. (I think it was also for art not just writing?)

Probably the most chaotic way of answering this. Also turned into a bit of me reflecting and musing over my writing.

But in no particular order as I'm proud of them for different reasons :)

----

Blue Skies- tumblr Ao3 Scott and Bereznik with Gordon too. Very whumpy, then hurt/comforty. I am extremely proud of this one, like so so proud. There is a massive amount of emotion in it, written all in one go and I stayed up to 1 am to finish it. It is a lot about trauma and honestly a lot of putting feelings onto paper. But all the details, the parts I think i did a really good job of viscerally showing instead of telling, the blue skies theme. It's intense and there are many awful, painful things, but there is also hope. That's definitely a main theme of my writing: no matter what I put them through, they will come out of it and there will be hope again.

Bruised- tumblr Ao3 Earth and Sky. Hurt/comfort. Some Virgil worrying over Scott, a bit of classic Scott-angsting, then lots of brotherly affection between them. The end is very Soft. Everyone gets a hug and then to sleeeep.

Squid Hug- tumblr Ao3 FishTanky fluff with lots of cuddles. Makes a good comfort read, with a bit funny, a little silly, and a good dose of hurt/comfort leaning heavily to the comfort. Did I mention the hugs?

As Sure As The Stars- tumblr Ao3 trans Alan! A realisation of it, and a coming out. And Alan and John together stargazing and a conversation on the roof. I poured alot of growing up queer experiences into it for myself and it also seemed to resonate with others too.

Pride Paint And Rainbow Pins- tumblr Ao3 My first Thunderbirds fic and for Thunderpride too!! Its short, fluffy and sweet! Some artist!Virgil plus a few puns. (And I really wish I had all of those pride pins, because I made the designs of nearly all of them up and I love them). And the pride themes! It really makes me happy in itself. But as well for being my jumping off point in Thunderfam. It has many of my queer headcanons for everyone when I'd been too shy (and anxious about being welcome) to make them into my own post.

Bonus points to the numerous WIPS I am working on that are as yet unfinished but I am still very proud of and can't wait till I do!

The Blue Blanket Fic!! I can't not mention it! I'm working on turning it into a full fic, which the first part of is here. But look at what @edutainer2022 and I already wrote. There be feelings, there be Scott whump, there be the blue comfort blanket!

:D

[golden-songbird]

since i love sanders sides and whump, here are the sides as whumpees, caretakers, or whumpers depending on which role i think they suit best!!

tw for mentions of catatonia, emotional abuse, physical torture, and extreme people pleasing.

roman: whumpee. roman is a golden child at heart, so he would do whatever it takes to please the whumper right away. he wouldn’t act weak or be a pushover, but he would try to be who he thinks the whumper wants him to be by going above and beyond on tasks and always doing things with a smile. but it wears on him, and as the torture gets worse, and roman realizes that his desire to please isn’t changing anything, he grows extremely distressed and his mind breaks into catatonia. he’s barely able to break out of it when he’s rescued, and he regularly falls into his appeasing habits, stuck in that desperate need to please people in order to avoid injury or pain.

patton: whumper. yep. i said it. it’s controversial but it’s just how i think it would work. patton would be the most terrifying whumper because he acts like the worlds sweetest little thing. nobody would even suspect that he tortures people and traumatizes them to the point of no return. his abuse would mostly be emotional, taking advantage of peoples phobias, convincing them that they’re worthless, or that they only deserve love and human decency when they’re perfect, obedient little pets. but i could also see him getting physical, and then hugging his whumpee and saying stuff like “i wish i didn’t have to do it, but you just make me”.

logan: whumpee. logan is a rules guy. as a whumpee, he would observe what gets him in trouble and what doesn’t, and mentally create rules for himself in order to stay safe. he doesn’t care about his wants or needs. just following the rules and staying alive. he’s not much of a reacter unless he’s getting extremely tortured, and whumpers make a game out of trying to get a reaction out of him. so logan learns the rule to react early to avoid further torture. when he’s rescued, he keeps his rules, just in case he needs them again.

janus: caretaker. ferociously protective over whumpees, more on the side of caring for whumpees than getting back at whumpers, but he has a very strong sense of justice. he’s the kind of caretaker who’s stern with most people, but is super gentle with whumpee, trying to play a sort of good cop role as he coaxes whumpee to eat more or get some sleep. he’s typically a secretive guy, but whumpees bring out the honesty in him as he tries to make himself seem more approachable and less scary to whumpees. he’s just a great guy.

virgil: caretaker. his approach is different from janus’ in the sense that he is absolutely a revenge person. if someone hurts his friends, then they’re in for it. virgil is also a bit more tough love than janus, and he’s not afraid of being the bad guy if something has to get done and nothing anybody else is doing for whumpee is working. his harshness can lead to bad things, but oftentimes, it’s necessary to really break whumpee out of bad habits. virgil also tends to lose sleep trying to care for whumpee and forget about taking care of himself, which is very bad. but he works on it.

remus: whumpee. he is the classic defiant whumpee, but it’s in a different way. he doesn’t act angry or “tough guy”, but he does pretend to be unbothered by torture. he puts on a front that he doesn’t care about anything, including his own well-being, and he’s really good at keeping it up, but inside, he’s terrified of his weaknesses being discovered and exploited. he doesn’t trust anybody after he’s rescued, ever really. the trauma sticks with him, and even after he’s rescued, he feels like he’s still there forever, always needing to pretend that he doesn’t care about anything at all.