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comicgeekscomicgeek · 1 year

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This makes me incredibly angry.

[ID: Screenshots of a Facebook post from user Advocatus Peregrini, which reads:

I was conversing with a fully-grown adult a few days ago, born and educated in the USA, who let this little gem drop:

"Well, it's like Shakespeare said, "Love conquers all!""

I pointed out that Shakespeare never said that, Virgil did, (Eclogues X) and Chaucer after him (Canterbury Tales.)

She said, "Oh I'm sure Shakespeare said that. In Romeo and Juliet!"

I sighed. I've been in that play several times, in different roles, and even directed it. That text does not occur in it.

But the real grind-my-teeth moment here was that if Romeo and Juliet can be said to have a message, it is most certainly not "Love conquers all," seeing as the lovers die by their own hands with a trail of their friends and relations' corpses in their wake.

Neither this fact, nor the fact that I knew the play, nor my explanation that Virgil and Chaucer used the phrase long before Shakespeare's birth dented her determination that "Love conquers all" came from Shakespeare.

"You don't know ALL the versions!" she protested.

All the versions?

Alternative Bard?

With every instinct screaming at me to let the matter drop, warning me that some horror that will not soon be absent from my nightmares waited around the next corner of this conversation. I pressed on.

It was a decision I was soon to regret.

I asked when she had first read "Romeo and Juliet." She said she had only read it once, when she was in Junior High. In the version she was taught, Romeo and Juliet survive, are reconciled with their parents, and are married in the church with their friends Mercutio and Tybalt arm in arm in the wedding party.

"Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint."

It turned out that her school had their own "version" of Romeo and Juliet, with an "uplifting" ending. This was printed and distributed by a religious education publisher. And it was the only version of the story that she had ever read. Of course she had HEARD other people say that the story was a tragedy, but she just assumed they were wrong.

And she did not see why MY version of Shakespeare should be considered better than HER Shakespeare, which, after all, had a much more wholesome ending.

I explained, in vain, that "my" version is definitive because Shakespeare actually wrote it (quiet, you Oxfordians. Don't make me stop this car) and the message of the play - that when adult stubbornness meets youthful impulsiveness tragedy ensues - is lost in the ersatz, happy-clappy ending.

She said the ending that had been Frankensteined onto Shakespeare's play by the "Christian Education" publisher was better than the original ending, "if the ending is as sad as you say it is."

At this point, I concluded that this was a person who deserved to go through the rest of her life "...safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!" I bid her adieu.

After the conversation, I wondered, darkly, if that was to be the fate of Shakespeare, and all other literature if the happy-clappy people get their way - as harmless and "uplifiting" as a cheerleader's chant.

I wondered what these bowdlerizers would do with "Hamlet?" or worse, "Titus Andronicus" or "MacB-" Nothing wholesome, I'm sure. Oh, that's right, what they can't appropriate, they ban. Or burn.

In trying to protect children, we leave them undefended from "...the slings and arrows" that life will no doubt throw their way. Shakespeare raises the issues of tragedy - the fatal flaw, the last turning, the role of fate, as well or better than any author before or since. He is a gentle tutor, much to be preferred over that stern and dangerous teacher, Experientia Inopinatum.

But, as ever, it really isn't about the children. It's about the adults, and their desire to avoid answering difficult questions from agile young minds, who know no fear and swarm like eager flies around questions that have been boggling our best minds for millenia. To answer the questions that literature raises, you have to have thought deeply about them yourself. And that is something that few dare to do.] end id

#social issues #censorship #shakespeare #william shakespeare #schools #education

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footballffbarbiex · 5 months

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Trent fucking his gf to the sound of Virgil and his wife next door bc that shit got his girl horny?🤭

"Trent," you say, peppering his face with kisses as you half cover his body with your own. "Baby, wake up. I need you."

It wasn't a total lie. You'd tried to leave Trent for as long as possible, hoping that your hand and fingers could bring you to a satisfying orgasm but if anything, it felt like foreplay and nothing more. The bedding beneath your butt was wet through thanks to the orgasm that you had had, but the only thing that was going to satisfy you was having Trent's cock deep within you.

Your back had arched as you'd rubbed circles on your clit with one hand while two fingers had stretched open your soaked hole and plunged inside repeatedly. You're surprised that Trent had slept through it so far, both the way that the bed no doubt bounced slightly as you finger fucked yourself to an orgasm, the way your whimpers had fallen from your lips and seemed to bounce around the room like the old DVD logo from each side of the screen.

"Please baby, wake up," You begin to head down from his face to his neck, your tongue working along with your lips until you're sucking small amounts of flesh between your lips. He'll no doubt have words with you if you do leave a hickey but you don't care. You're seconds away from gripping his dick through his boxer shorts and just starting without him waking up, but that wouldn't be as fun - even if he has said he wouldn't mind being woken up like that.

Trent needs to know why you're this fucking turned on.

The sound of Virgil's grunts and quiet "that's it, fucking take my cock" can be heard. You can picture him fucking into his wife deeply, with her knees either up to her chest to ensure that he enters her as much as possible, or her thighs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer and not letting him pull out far before he's slamming back into her once more.

Her moans sound like heaven to your ears, the raspy groans that she makes combined with the incredibly "feminine" type sounds that makes you want to bang on their door and demand to be let in just so you can be the reason for those sounds. "Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, fuck baby. Just like that. Just like that." Her words had driven you over the edge, you'd closed your eyes and almost blocked out Virgil's sounds as you'd focused purely on her.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't know who was turning you on the most, because the answer is her.

"Timeisit?" Trent groans as he turns over and buries his face into the pillow.

"Late still."

He makes an unhappy noise until you guide his hand to between your legs and let him feel just how fucking wet you are and this gets his attention.

"What's got you all fired up?" he asks, fingers now instinctively working at your sopping hole while his lips find yours hungrily. He doesn't allow you to answer, his tongue works yours in such a way that you can envision oh too easily how it would feel as it worked at your pussy.

Your hand trails down his body until you reach his waistband and find a thick swell already nudging at the fabric begging to be released. He bucks into your touch, using his body as permission to touch him since he cannot speak right now. You make quick work of his boxers, pulling his long, thick cock free with ease and begin to stroke him from base to tip until he's fully hard. Pre-cum dots at the slit already and Trent rocks his hips back and forth, fucking your fist as he whimpers into your mouth.

His own hand picks up the pace, his fingers occasionally pulling from inside of you and using your own juices as a form of lubricant, he strokes disgustingly precise circles right on the spot that makes you cum at a record time.

"Wait," he says, pulling away from you and you can see the confusions he cocks his head to the side to listen. "Is that..."

"Mmmm hmm."

"Well this feels naughty." He confesses with a shit eating grin.

"It feels like I really fucking need your dick baby." You say as you bite down on his bottom lip and give it a swirl with your tongue. "Please Trent, please fuck me."

"Gonna make sure the next time they fuck, they'll be thinking about the way you sound instead."

#trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold x reader

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umbramemeblog · 11 days

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reminders for new black butler fans

I am terrified that new fans are gonna come in (especially from twitter...shudders) and start screaming the same thing's we've been hearing since forever, so let me reiterate some things for you guys

we love sebaciel

most of the anime is CANON.

be weird about every character

say that you "want maurice cole to die" or "wish he had alois' trauma"

the public school arc is a glorified version of harry potter. knock it off.

for the love of GOD do give gregory the virgil sanders treatment i am begging on my hands and knees he is just shy and artistic and your little storm cloud

black butler is a very dark and triggering story. there are a lot of triggering themes within the manga (moreso the anime I have to be honest). if these themes upset you, then it may be for you.

okay now for some general reminders

if someone ships something you don't like. who cares. if you don't like it, then don't interact with it. simple as that!

this goes for people who ship minors and adults you guys are fucking awesome.

you don't have to like someone else's au. again, don't like, don't interact. it's easy

what sexuality / gender / race someone headcanons another character as is none of your business

uhh i dont remember who is sascha

you don't have to accept the fanon (or canon really lol, that's why au's exist), there is no obligation

if someone says that bb is their special interest or hyperfixation your first instinct should not be to shit on them for it

DO NOT HARASS THE ENGLISH VOICE ACTORS, PLEASE PLEASE

don't harass the play actors either now that I'm here

like and reblog art, leave comments and kudos on fanfics

be a freak for the love of god. don't harass people.

okay that's it! byeeeee

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #claude faustus #grell sutcliff #william t spears #kuroshitsuji season 4 #othello black butler #sascha black butler #alan humphries #eric slingby #ludger black butler #maurice cole #public school arc #weston college arc #black butler season 4 #let me know if I need to add anything #sebaciel #i have notifs turned off good luck trying to reach me

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creative-lampd-liberties · 9 months

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But real talk time I'm loving the fact that they are trying to take care of each other because Thomas is trying to take care of himself, And the way that both Patton and Virgil started off trying to sort of force the good days the way they thought it should work, but also realized when what they were doing wasn't working and switched it up for Logan and Roman had me 🥺💖🥺💖😭😭💖

And can we talk about the fact that Janus knows Remus so well that he actually managed to keep Remus happy AND distracted him from anything he didn't immediately love?? They are friends and they love each other and no one can convince me otherwise

And like even though he rushed through it, all of Patton's choices for Logan were things he'd really actually enjoy and be able to relax doing, like Patton really just pays attention to what makes everybody happy, he's way smarter than anyone gives him credit for

And Virgil specifically picked the kinds of things he and Roman have bonded over before because the whole point was to give Roman quality hang out time and attention, and then at the end he really tried to give Roman the reassurance he needed even though it went against his own instincts, the Protector!Virgil agenda lives

Anyway, I immediately need part two where Patton, Virgil, and Janus get nice days and I *will* write it myself if I have to and that is a Threat™️

#tss spoilers #sanders sides #sanders sides spoilers #logicality #prinxiety #dukeceit #ish #a necessary amount of deceit love #the protector virgil agenda #patton is so good actually

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analoceits · 6 months

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virgil is the definition of "submissive the way a guard dog is submissive." hes a protector by nature, but that doesnt mean hes in charge by any means.

because virgil knows that hes strong. hes instinct, hes fear. hes the fight in fight or flight just as much as the flight. he, in so many ways is stronger than the others.

but hes weak for them, hes obedient. and he knows it.

he smiles at pattons stupid nicknames and he laughs at even stupider puns and ok, one extra cookie from the jar. and ok, one new experience no matter how scary.

he practically flails whenever logan compliments him at the end of my negative thinking. and hell sit there and listen to every science rant that he does not care about.

and sure, he fights roman. they snap and bite and say every quip in the book but its never with malice. and sure, he doesnt play exactly how roman likes but.. he does try. just for him.

so virgil is there to protect them. he is their protector, and he would burn the world down to keep them safe. but he melts in their hands and he knows it.

#tss #sasi #sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #tss logan #tss virgil #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #tss patton #tss roman

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formulalfc · 3 months

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Reader is Liverpool's photographer, Trent is flirting with her but she doesn't get the hints. Finally he just confesses and they start dating but don't tell the boys and staff. One day during media day, Trent kisses her out of habit infront of everyone.

it had been so so long since trent had started dropping hints to you and he got so tired of it that one day he just blurts it out to you when you're sitting on your lunch break talking. you of course were delighted as you had been crushing on him ever since you started working at liverpool fc as a photographer. and so you guys started dating, not letting anyone else know because you didn't know how it would affect your job and you both wanted to make sure it was serious before you put your job on the line. it was media day just before the season started up again and you had been taking some pictures of trent, virgil, and mo but you had just finished with them and were sending them over to one of the other photographers to do some different shots of them. out of instinct trent leans over and gives you a quick peck on the lips, neither of you realising what you had done until virg and mo starting pointing at you both and exclaiming. the last minute caught up with you both as you stared at each other with wide eyes, jurgen came over to see what the shouting was about. virg told him what had happened and jurgen started to belly laugh, saying he was glad you guys were finally telling people about it to which you and trent asked him how on earth he knew. jurgen telling you that the heart eyes you give each other told him all you needed to know.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

#blurbs with shan ;)#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold smau #taa x reader #taa66 #taa #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #lfc #liverpool football club x reader #liverpool fc x reader #liverpool #lfc x reader #lfc players

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orbmanson7 · 9 months

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Let's do a quick analysis of this new short video "The Sides Need a Nice Day" which is clearly meant to be mostly for fun, but there's definitely some hints and easter eggs to pay attention to that I'd like to explore a little further.

I'll address this in three parts in separate posts, the first for Patton and Logan, the next for Virgil and Roman, and the last for Janus and Remus.

Let's start with the first part, about Patton and Logan.

Patton's initial approach, as we can see, was flawed despite his good intentions. He wants to do something nice for Logan, he thinks out ideas based on what he knows Logan enjoys, and he likes to see Logan actually having fun. These are all very emotion-based notions and motivations, which we can expect from Patton. He's inspired by his own emotions in response to seeing the videos online, and takes matters into his own hands to give Logan in particular a special day.

Why Logan? Because Patton's very in tune with emotions and can recognize that Logan has been having a tough time lately. He empathizes with this a lot (considering it's kind of his thing) so he wants to do something that he'd like someone to do for him if he was having a bad day - do something to cheer him up!

This is very sweet and he clearly puts a lot of thought into this idea...but it's not an immediate success because he only really puts the emotional concept and vision into it, and didn't think practically or make his decisions with logic in mind.

Wonder who could have helped with something like that...

First, he approached Logan about making a quick decision, which is not something Logan is ever known to do. Logan resists this right away by questioning him for clarification and is already annoyed to start because Patton is being vague and trying to get Logan to play along without giving consideration to Logan's need to understand a situation and weigh his options before deciding anything. Logan takes no action lightly and always thinks his actions through first, as opposed to Patton, who prefers gut instincts and impulsive action. He doesn't bother to offer Logan the information and time to make a more informed decision, all because he wants to hurry up and get to the fun part!

Patton (like Roman) is someone who is able to envision what he wants, but Logan is someone who actually figures out the steps needed to make that a reality. Without the steps, that vision is but a dream, and without the vision, the steps are just work with no purpose.

These sides need to learn to work together to accomplish goals, not just do things on their own, and this part of the episode gives us a hint towards that notion.

The peculiar way that Patton then explains the situation to Logan is also interesting, as he states that whichever option Logan chooses will be something Patton wants to do, and because Patton wants to do it, Thomas will want to do it, meaning Logan gets to do it, too.

This, by itself, is such an alarming concept to drop into this video, especially with Patton saying it so cheerfully.

In case it's not clear, Patton is implying that he has so much power and sway over Thomas' decision-making process that he can have Thomas do something just because he, Patton, wants to do it. None of the sides should have that level of influence over Thomas, but Patton not only has that power but also knows that he does.

(And to clear up any confusion, this is not the same as Janus saying during his part of the video that he's convinced Thomas to lean into certain thoughts for the day. Patton is suggesting that if he wants something, Thomas will do it, as if it's automatic and doesn't require convincing. That may be Patton oversimplifying it a bit, but it's still indicating his status above others in that sense.)

In this case, he's using it to give Logan a nice day by doing (read: permitting Thomas to do) things he knows Logan would enjoy...but in other context, that's a very dangerous situation, especially since Patton has been shown to make bad or skewed judgement calls in the past due to his biases as well as making some very impulsive, emotionally-driven decisions.

But he recognizes this status that he holds and is attempting to use it for good, so at least there's that?

The next and more obvious part of this section shows that Patton is rushing Logan through the activities chosen, talking over him or cutting him off when Logan questions Patton about this, and Logan grows more annoyed by this as time goes on.

He is not quick to anger, even when he was initially forced into deciding something with very little information, and it takes a few times of being pushed and talked over before he even shows his frustration at all.

It's important to notice this because Logan's anger is not just born of nothing. It's valid because it's a natural reaction to the situation he's in not being properly catered to him.

This is something we see in episodes of the series a lot, and when it comes to the specific moments where Logan has truly gotten angry enough to show it, it's never out of nowhere, even if it may seem that way. If you are properly paying attention, you will see the gradual buildup, where Logan keeps holding himself back, staying calm and collected as long as he can, before the emotion bursts out and he acts rashly (and then regrets it).

Logan's anger has been shown to appear after moments where he is repeatedly cut off, spoken over, and ignored or disregarded completely. Being silenced and skipped over so often, it's a wonder Logan keeps trying at all, but he does. At some point, the last line is crossed, and he explodes with that anger.

While the resulting behavior may be inappropriate or rude, the feelings motivating that behavior are extremely valid, because he's being pushed to this breaking point by others. Anger serves the purpose of making it known when someone's boundaries have been crossed and when they have been wronged, so it makes sense for Logan to experience it at these times.

So, in this short video, Patton is trying to do something nice for him, and Logan can recognize and appreciate Patton's intention, but the execution is filled with the same mannerisms that build Logan's anger - being cut off, spoken over, ignored. It's not that he doesn't enjoy these activities, either, but he's not being given the chance to enjoy them with the way Patton is presenting them to him. It's a recipe for disaster because Logan's needs and boundaries aren't being respected despite the whole point being to do something nice for him.

This is also a tough situation for someone to oppose, by the way! When someone does something nice for you but you honestly hate it, how do you begin to tell them that? You don't want to hurt their feelings because you know they were trying to be nice and meant no harm, but if you don't speak up about the issues you had with it, your boundaries could wind up violated over and over again and the other party would be none the wiser.

Logan must voice his frustration. He has to explain why he's upset. And, thankfully, in this section of the video, he does!

He starts by stopping Patton directly, hand out and everything. He speaks calmly and clearly, using the same tone he used when speaking to the others during DwIT to get them to chill out and not be so impulsive. Logan is using what he knows to work to make his case here, and he tells Patton that he appreciates what he's trying to do. But then, he raises his voice and informs Patton what's annoying him about it, that he can't enjoy these activities because he's being rushed through them. This is a direct communication of the issue at hand and why it's bothering him.

Patton then pauses, reflects, realizes his mistake and where he had messed up, and then alters his behavior to fix the issue.

It's so simple and succinct that Logan, while still annoyed, seems confused that Patton actually listened to him and by how easy it was to find that resolution.

And I think that's our next piece of foreshadowing, as well.

Logan has been holding back about his genuine anger and frustration over how he's treated by the other sides and Thomas. He feels ignored and only utilized as a tool, as if he were a book rather than a person (or the metaphysical manifestation of one, at least).

These are not feelings that have only sprung up recently, either - this has been happening for a very long time without Logan ever addressing it.

Until he does, the others won't realize the impact their words and actions truly have on him. He needs to speak up and the others need to listen and adjust accordingly.

With the way Patton responded in this part, though, perhaps this shows that they may have an easier, calmer solution in store than one might initially anticipate, but we shall see.

Speaking of foreshadowing, during the times Logan is shown in the library throughout this part, he is reading a book titled A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles. Knowing past easter eggs and hints, it's likely this is not a coincidence.

Having read the book myself, I think it's very possible this is a potential nod to something that may occur soon within Logan's upcoming arc (whenever that may happen), as the book happens to deal a lot with the concept of imprisonment and finding ways to live through adversity.

In the book, the main character is put on house arrest in a bustling hotel in the city, but he's relegated to a cramped attic space and had left all of his books away from home so he cannot access them, because if he dares to leave the hotel, he'll be shot dead. So he stays inside, and he self-reflects because he now has a lot of time to think. He gets to know the people who work and live in the hotel, how their lives are so different than his own had been and continues to be. For quite some time, he feels the true punishment of his stay there, how the whole world outside is moving on so fast, but he is stuck inside, removed from it. He becomes effectively useless, unable to be or do anything for others (outside of giving amazing wine pairings for meals, of course), but he stays true to himself despite it all. He remains his charming and intelligent self, he makes new friends, he finds ways to be happy despite being trapped there.

The most popular quote from the book is one that says, "if a man does not master his circumstances then he is bound to be mastered by them." And while the main character in that story manages to make the best of his life and circumstances, we know that Logan is still struggling with his fate right now, being trapped within Thomas' mind as someone who cannot fully explore his own interests, who has less and less purpose since Thomas left college, and feels less respected and listened to every day.

Logan has to find a way to obtain happiness despite his circumstances, because he can't change his situation, but he can change how he responds to it.

This book may be a clue as to how he finally figures out how to do that.

The outcome of this part of the video with Logan and Patton is a satisfying one. Logan expressed his frustration, Patton listened and was able to correct the issue, and Logan was able to have a nice day after all, which is what Patton had set out to accomplish. There were quite a few bumps along the way, but it was successful in the end!

Now, onto the next part...

#sanders sides #sanders sides analysis #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts spoilers #long post #orbs thought bubbles #I'm posting part one for now and I'll post part two and three later on because i have two jobs back to back today and tomorrow so I'm busy #pfft but i won't make anyone wait for too long i promise

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delimeful · 3 months

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let my mind reset (6)

warnings: angst, brainwashing, torture, psychological conditioning, references to injury/gore/death, harmful surgical implants, they are really going through it now, lmk if i missed any

Where the hours had passed slowly before, now they seemed to slip by all too fast. Every spare moment Roman had was spent in anxious anticipation of the next session and all that came with it.

He had never seen something like the haze used on a person before. Crav’n were invulnerable to it, and he’d only ever witnessed his aunt use it briefly on one of the local fauna once, a harmless and finicky tree-dwelling species about the size of his hand.

(Roman remembered the way Marta had compelled the little creature to pace back and forth, from place to place, wearing its will away until there wasn’t any hesitation between order and action. Then, she’d sent it walking into the nearby pond.

He remembered the way its survival instinct had set in late, the way it began to thrash, and still Marta didn’t call it back. He remembered feeling relieved when his mother stepped in and put a stop to the demonstration, scooping the poor beast from its fate with disapproval etched firmly in the set of her shoulders.

He didn’t remember if the creature had lived through the withdrawal, afterwards.)

Virgil was far from a simple animal, though, and despite Roman’s half-formed nightmares, he didn’t mindlessly succumb to the influence of the drug the first time it was forced on him, nor the second or the third.

In fact, every time the other Humans entered his cell with that unsettling green canister, he seemed just as panicked as Roman, if not more, putting up as much of a fight as he could with a battered body and a wrung out mind. No matter how they tutted or scolded, the other Humans still couldn’t get the mask on him until Roux had him forcibly subdued, which was a tiny victory in itself.

That didn’t stop the drug from taking its toll each and every time.

As horrible as it sounded, the worst part was that the effects weren't painful or malicious in nature. At least that would have been easier to fight against; a logical, instinctive response to being hurt.

No, it was far more insidious than that. The haze dulled pain. First, the physical: it eased away the stiffness of sore muscles and the burning of shocked nerves, leaving only a pleasant numbness behind. Then, the mental: it stalled the production of stressful chemical compounds, replacing them with whatever was needed to trick the victim’s mind into believing they were happy, relaxed, pliable.

Roman had never seen Virgil so unwound, so carefree, and he hated how unnatural the behavior seemed on the Human. It was a miserable experience, finally seeing him without the hunted slant to his posture, and feeling sickened by the sight.

What was worse was watching it wear off.

As though a switch had been thrown in reverse, Virgil would be plagued by a creeping, unrelenting sense of panic and dread, pacing around his cell frantically until a sudden hypersensitivity to touch left him crumpled in one spot, breathing harsh and pained.

Time after time, he was shown exactly how painful withdrawal from even a few doses was, until he was left bracing for it well before the next session had even begun.

“The last guys who had me would have killed for something like this,” Virgil said, nearly panting as he laid out on his back. He had his fingers pressed against his neck, feeling his pulse. His heart was racing so hard that Roman could see the veins pulsing eerily under the skin. A heavy spike of adrenaline, unprompted by anything tangible. “Bet she has at least a few people stashed away just to drain for easy cash.”

He spoke more, like this. Out of turn, about topics that were morbid and pessimistic, as though the thoughts were tumbling free of his mind without his permission. Roman never let his negative reactions to the more grim topics go beyond his ears flickering back; it wasn’t like he had the room or right to judge. They didn’t have very many reasons to be optimistic. Besides, he’d realized early on that the more worked up Roman got, the worse Virgil got in turn.

He still didn’t know the exact details of how Dren harvesting worked, and he was fairly sure he was better off for it. The very idea of setting an entire person aside for something like that was reprehensible, and therefore entirely possible for Marta.

“She said she… she gets rid of Humans that don’t break,” he replied after a moment, the words tumbling freely from him for once. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to turn a profit from it.”

He’d been trying to match the distant, dry tone Virgil had used, but he must have missed the mark, because the Human stiffened, and drew his hand back from Roman’s grasp to press it harshly against his eyes.

Belatedly, Roman realized what he’d just implied. Virgil was one of those Humans trying not to break, was at this very moment barely clinging to his composure, and he’d just been informed he was stuck between two horrific fates worse than death. “I didn’t mean—,”

“‘S alright,” Virgil interrupted, voice rough with exhaustion. “It’s not like I didn’t know. It makes me feel a little better, honestly.”

Roman stared at him, bewildered and still slightly aghast at his own stupidity, and Virgil shifted a few fingers to peer back with one eye.

“At least some Humans didn’t fall for it, y’know? At least some of them got out in their own way,” he continued, a thin thread of hopelessness tangled up in the words. “I was starting to wonder if the rest of space was right. If we were all just destined to be monsters with the right motivation.”

Roman should have been more alarmed at the implication that Virgil felt close to succumbing, that he was nearer than he’d ever wanted to be to a Human on the brink of falling under someone else’s blatantly malignant control, but all he could feel was a painful sympathy.

“You’re not a monster,” he said, and then, more firmly— “Humans aren’t monsters.”

Virgil’s eye widened slightly, gaze intent in a way that would have made Roman bristle in the past.

“They’re just people. They can do good or bad, just like anyone else. And sure, these guys are— they’re not doing good.” A pause, and Roman forced himself to meet Virgil’s stare. “But you have. You saved Patton, and you tried to save me, and you’re— you’re not a monster. You’re a good friend.”

Virgil buried his face back in his elbow and was quiet for a long moment.

“…You’re not so bad yourself.”

—

Roman hadn’t expected Marta to show up in person, not with how much she had delegated to her brainwashed underlings thus far, but arrive she did.

“Don’t fret, ghiva’al,” she crooned to him, passing by his cell with the lightest clink of her claws dragged against the bars. “I’m here to meet your little pet, not you.”

“Don’t—,” call me that, call him that, he wanted to snarl, but his throat closed up so sharply that it sounded a little like he’d choked.

Marta made her stilted croaking laugh, sparing him a glance that might have been pitying if it had bothered to reach her cold, empty eyes. “You always did struggle with words when emotional, didn’t you? Not nearly as well spoken as your mother. What a shame to see that hasn’t changed.”

There was a sharp clacking as an aggressive shudder ran through Roman’s scales, but he still couldn’t find his voice. Not even when Marta moved on to grip the bars of Virgil’s cell, her attention shifting to the Human where he stood warily in the center of the cage.

Roman had learned more than he’d ever thought he would about Human body language over the past few weeks. He knew from the slight sway to Virgil’s every shift that the Human was drained, likely barely keeping his feet.

Still, he was upright to face Marta, his height advantage allowing him to look down at her, and that was better than being crumpled on the ground at her feet. Little victories were all they had now, and they clung to each and every one.

Roux wasn’t there, Roman realized with a jolt, and the knowledge was enough to drag his mind into overdrive, a sudden double-edged hope springing to life in his chest.

Virgil must have already realized, because the way he held himself shifted into something taut and coiled, like he was preparing to lunge forward at the first opportunity, weak or not.

“Back of the cell,” Marta commanded, voice turned brisk and blunt in a way it hadn’t been with Roman. Like she was speaking to a beast instead of a person.

Virgil didn’t move, barely deigned to acknowledge the words beyond a brief flicker of his pupils upwards.

Marta waited, letting the silence stretch for a brief moment, and then clicked her teeth together in a mild reprimand. “The hard way, then.”

Despite her apparent annoyance, the words held a sort of anticipatory delight, and Roman felt the thick tar of dread slide under his scales as he watched her slide a small, triangular remote from a pouch at her side.

When she pressed the button in the center of it, she was looking at Roman.

It was Virgil who went rigid and fell.

Despite knowing it would undercut every lie he’d tried to sell about how little he cared, despite the fact that he was playing right into her claws, Roman couldn’t help but rush to the bars separating them, a shout of horror catching in his chest.

The Human hit the ground hard but stayed chillingly frozen, with every muscle locked into hard lines. He didn’t make a sound until Marta shifted her thumb away from the button, the motion somehow allowing him to finally go limp like a puppet with strings cut.

“Virgil!” Roman managed, though the sound of it was nearly lost in the sudden loudness of the Human’s gasping breaths. He hadn’t been breathing before, Roman realized with a terrified shock.

Whatever Marta was doing, it hadn’t countered Virgil’s natural stubbornness, and he climbed back to his feet with less staggering than Roman would have expected.

His gaze caught on the tremor to Virgil’s hands, the shuddering of his pulse, and he understood. Adrenaline.

The fight or flight instinct, Virgil had called it while talking with Patton. Roman had seen him choose to fight once, at their very first meeting, but even that couldn’t compare to the speed and ferocity of the way the Human lunged now.

Marta didn’t flinch back when he made loud, skull-rattling contact with the bars, but she didn’t blink, either, keeping her eyes firmly locked on Virgil as she pressed the button once more.

Instead of letting him drop, however, she reached out and seized him by the face, claws digging in on either cheek and holding tightly.

Virgil couldn’t so much as flinch away from the pain, and Roman slammed his arm against the door of his own cell with force, furious at his own helplessness.

Marta released the trigger again, and this time, every gasping inhale Virgil took was dosed with her haze. He tried to jerk back, but it was far faster acting straight from the source, and he had barely a moment before his expression dropped to something hollow and smooth, his desperate strength wavering and then extinguishing like a flame with nothing left to burn.

“Down,” Marta commanded, releasing her grip, and Virgil stood in place for a few long heartbeats before his legs collapsed underneath him.

She waved a hand absently down at him, still scattering her haze thick in the air. “There you go. It feels so much better when you listen, doesn’t it?”

Virgil twitched, a ripple of discontent crossing his face, but didn’t respond. He was shaking relentlessly now, his entire body trembling in a way that had Roman deeply concerned.

“You’re safe with me,” Marta lied, reaching down to glide the palm of her hand over the side of Virgil’s face. “You’re only safe with me. Everyone else wants to hurt you, but I’ll make the pain go away. Always do as I say, okay?”

Virgil didn’t move away, even as her rough skin caught on the wounds her claws had left only moments ago. His breathing grew wispier, slower, until he appeared almost calm, his eyes dazed and distant.

“Let’s try this again,” Marta straightened, and when her hand left Virgil’s cheek, he strained after it for a handful of seconds. “Back of the cell.”

Virgil climbed back to his feet, and Roman closed his eyes as the Human quietly began shuffling across his stretch of cell. He felt all of six winters old again, watching his aunt lead something fuzzy and helpless back and forth, closer and closer to the water’s edge.

“Good. Now, heel.” More shuffling, wordless as a corpse.

How long did he have before Virgil took his own plunge?

—

It took longer than before for Virgil to regain coherence, afterwards.

Roman knew the moment he’d come back to himself, because the soft grip around his hand had instantly vanished, yanked away so sharply that he’d barely registered the movement before Virgil was up on his feet and backing away.

“Virgil,” he tried, and the Human shook his head, the motion harsh, his hands lifting up to grip roughly at his hair in a distressed motion Roman had only ever caught glimpses of back on the ship.

He’d continued to retreat until he hit the furthest corner of the cell, where he slid down and curled in on himself, utterly unreceptive to any of Roman’s stilted calls. Roman caught his expression crumpling into a miserable grimace before he buried his face in his knees and hid that away too.

The silence stretched.

If there were some right words to say here, Roman couldn’t find them. Even if he did, he undoubtedly wouldn’t be able to say them. The helplessness sheared against his scales like rough sand, but how could he allow himself to wallow in it when he at least still had his mind, his existence still unarguably his own?

Freshly taunted by the knowledge that he didn’t have even that much, Virgil remained still and taut and quiet in the furthest reaches of his cell for what felt like a very long time.

When he did finally stir, Roman was appalled to see the faint streaks on his face where his tears had washed away the sweat and grime.

Patton had described Human weeping as arrhythmic vocalizations, much like Ampens, but with a physical manifestation as well. Roman hadn’t known that Humans could cry silently, like a pup gone still and quiet in the face of danger, with only the barest hitching of breath to indicate distress.

The expression on Virgil now was creased into firm lines, but it didn’t seem agonized or crumbling at the edges. Rather, as he climbed to his face, he seemed to hold the same bitter resolution Roman had seen in him a few times before: during the tail end of their first meeting, and after the fight with the raiders, both times when he’d thought he was about to be left alone again.

“Roman,” he started, and then worked his jaw tersely, once, twice. Rather than continue, he held out a hand, palm-up in silent offering.

Things had changed a lot over the course of their captivity, Roman reflected as he reached out and set his own hand in the Human’s grasp with barely a shred of hesitation. It felt like second nature by now, to reach out and cling on whenever his stomach was roiling with stress.

Virgil watched him for a moment longer, and then wrapped his fingers around Roman’s hand and drew closer, slowly pulling his arm up until he had positioned Roman’s claws just above the skin of his neck.

“This,” Virgil said, each word resolute, “is the best place to sever if you want to kill a Human quickly.”

The words took a dull, ringing moment to sink in, but once they did, Roman jerked back sharply. “Virgil, what—?”

For the first time, Virgil held on, keeping his hand pinned in place with ease even as he had to grip the bars with his other hand to remain upright. Roman could see the way the Human’s pulse fluttered under the skin, a heartbeat racing visibly exactly where Virgil had indicated.

“It’s important. You need to know,” Virgil insisted, and lifted their joined hands higher, to his temple. “Head wounds bleed a lot. Gashes up here are valuable because the blood runs down and drips into their eyes, which will work pretty well as a distraction—,”

“Stop it!” Roman demanded, yanking harder as his panic increased. “I’m not going to— stop talking like that! I don’t need to know how to hurt you!”

At the start of their voyage, Roman would have done just about anything for information like this, anything to feel safe on his own ship again. So why was he learning it only now, when each word and accompanying gesture made him feel ill and rotted down to the tip of his tail?

“It’s not— Roman, it’s not about me,” Virgil said, frustration seeping into his voice. He let Roman drag his hand away from his face, but still didn’t let go. “It’s about them.”

Roman wasn’t sure he believed that. “I don’t need to kill anyone. They’re brainwashed, this is Marta’s fault! I know the truth, now.”

Virgil shook his head, ghosted the fingers of his free hand over his implant scar with a distant, sickened expression. “It’s not that simple. I don’t want guilt to be the reason— Look. If it’s them or you, I want it to be you. I want you to make sure it’s you.”

And what if it's me or you? Roman thought, but the words lodged firmly in his chest until he could barely breathe around them.

“They all made their choice,” Virgil continued once it became clear that Roman wouldn’t respond. “They’ve kept making that choice, every time. You have to want to survive, too, okay?”

Mutely, Roman nodded, trying to ignore the creeping sense of horror. He pulled Virgil’s hand back towards himself, fumbled for speech for a long moment before finding the words and hoping they didn’t feel like a betrayal when spoken aloud.

“The underbelly,” he started, and Virgil’s expression— shut down. Every hint of body language went flat like stone, and just as unyielding.

“No.” The word was final, a sentence all its own, and Roman scowled mulishly.

“But—!”

“Roman.” Virgil lifted his other arm over so that he was clasping Roman’s hand between both of his own. “You’re the only one left, right? You told me that.”

The thought was still a wound-like pang in his chest, even after all this time. “Yes,” he admitted. “But, even still—,”

“No way. I don’t want to hear it, man. There’s nobody I would be willing to use it on, anyhow.” Virgil kept his gaze locked firmly on a point past Roman’s shoulder, but his shoulders were set, his voice steadfast.

There was no point arguing. Not now, when the both of them were one wrong move from collapse.

“Okay,” Roman finally said, and forced himself not to protest when Virgil reclaimed the position of lecturer. It was a struggle not to wince away with each gory anecdote, a full guide on the quickest ways to make the Human body stop functioning or even turn on itself.

“Gut wounds are slow to kill, but they can be painful enough to debilitate. There are vulnerable organs here, below the rib cage, and damage to them is difficult to treat without surgery if the wound is severe enough…”

Still, he held himself at attention, did his best to memorize every word.

If Virgil wouldn’t accept knowledge about Roman’s own vulnerabilities as a gift of equal exchange, Roman would simply have to treasure this information with the same dedication that he applied to the rest of their small crew.

After all, knowing all the individual weak points of a Human would make it that much easier for him to protect each and every single part of Virgil.

Virgil wasn’t going to die. Not here, and certainly not by Roman’s own claws. Not if Roman had anything to say about it.

#sanders sides fic #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #ts virgil #ts roman #humans are deathworlders #my writing #writing #sanders sides #space au

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mlmshipbracket · 8 months

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ROUND ONE: POLL #6

ROUND 1 ALL POLLS [HERE]

PROPAGANDA BELOW

Kotetsu T. Kaburagi/Barnaby “Bunny” Brooks Jr. :

NO PROPAGANDA SUBMITTED

Enjolras/Grantaire:

youtube

"However, [Grantaire] had one fanaticism. This fanaticism was neither a dogma, nor an idea, nor an art, nor a science; it was a man: Enjolras. Grantaire admired, loved, and venerated Enjolras" "Grantaire in the presence of Enjolras became some one once more." "Grantaire, in whom writhed doubt, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras. He had need of Enjolras. That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it, and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him. He admired his opposite by instinct." "There are men who seem to be born to be the reverse, the obverse, the wrong side. They are Pollux, Patrocles, Nisus, Eudamidas, Ephestion, Pechmeja. They only exist on condition that they are backed up with another man; their name is a sequel, and is only written preceded by the conjunction and; and their existence is not their own; it is the other side of an existence which is not theirs. Grantaire was one of these men. He was the obverse of Enjolras."

Pollux = twin of Castor, Patroclus = famous lover of Achilles, Nisus = partner of Euryalus in Virgil's Aeneid, Ephestion = boyfriend of Alexander the Great, Pechmeja = 18th Century French author

#kotetsu t. kaburagi #barnaby brooks jr #kotetsu t. kaburagi/barnaby brooks jr #taibani #tiger and bunny #enjolras #grantaire #enjolras/grantaire #exr #les miserables #tumblr poll #tumblr bracket #mlm ship #mlm ship poll #mlm ship bracket #mlm ship bracket tournament #mlm ship bracket 2023 #mlm ship bracket tournament 2023 #secondr1

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idontknowreallywhy · 2 months

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Resurface 4 - Reel

EVERYTHING IS FINE!

Previously (in case this jumpscared you and you have no idea what’s going but I’ve clearly gone a bit feral over this today - apologies for flooding your dash!)

First scene, second scene, third scene

(And the history of this is this one)

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

The first thing Scott noticed was Shadow stationary and clamped firmly to her ‘roost’ on the cliff side, with two figures buzzing around the cockpit.

The second thing he noticed was Alan perched on a rocky outcrop about 40m below where Shadow clung to the cliff.

The third thing was that there were tears running down his baby brother’s face as he squinted into the sky overhead.

The fourth thing was the telltale glint in the rosy blue of early evening that meant the space elevator was on its way down.

He flew over to Alan and made a hurried enquiry as to his health. Alan dashed the wetness from his face and said he was fine. Scott didn’t believe him and said so. Alan shrugged and clamped his lips together but then his face crumpled and he blurted out:

“They said I had to leave. That Virgil wouldn’t want me to see. But I already did so what’s the point. I want to help! What use am I down here?”

“Alan, what did you see?”

Alan looked guilty. Scott looked up to where Gordon and Kayo were hovering either side of Shadow’s windshield which appeared to be partly raised.

“Alan!”

The response was barely a whisper.

“He thinks you’re flying Shadow to… to…” nothing but a strangled sound came out here but Scott knew exactly the word Alan couldn’t bring himself to say. “He says he has to go too… but there’s nobody in the pilot’s seat Scott.”

“Right.” Scott had no idea what to do with this information and hovered impotently in midair for a moment.

“I’m scared.”

Big brother instinct triggered, Scott snapped out of his panicked indecision and took change.

“I’ll look after him I promise. Please go and fetch the big blue first aid kit, Allie? The one with the… uh, the everything in it.” The word “tranquilliser” was almost as dirty and unspeakable as “Bereznik” was in the Tracy household, but at that height Scott wasn’t going to take any chances with his stronger, heavier brother.

“FAB Scott.”

He watched his little brother leave then made a beeline for Shadow, popping up beside Gordon who was pale and ever so young-looking and Kayo, unflappable Kayo who… whose face was as tear stained as Alan’s had been. Scott swallowed hard and peered through the semi-raised hatch to meet his best friend’s eyes.

“Virgil?”

“Dad!”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #thunderangst #Tw: mental health #Idontknowreallywhy fanfic #Resurface fic

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gumnut-logic · 3 months

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Okay

Have a little FishTank with a background of pissed off Scotty.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for all her help on this and for putting up with my crazy as usual :D

It was supposed to be something and this is what happened. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

Virgil rolled his shoulders as he stepped out of the elevator and into the comms room. He wasn’t surprised to find Scott’s commander persona firmly and concisely flaying someone via hologram at the main desk. Virgil had no doubt that several heads would roll after this incident.

But he would field Scott later. Besides it was fair to let the person responsible reap their rewards.

A pissed off Commander Scott Tracy was a weapon of precise destruction.

For the moment, Virgil had two aims. He rolled his shoulders again. Maybe three. Some paracetamol wouldn’t hurt alongside the coffee.

Both would be needed to tackle his main priority.

His little brother Gordon.

Those four words made it hurt even more.

Because Gordon was his little brother and when some asshole threatened the Fish - no matter how adult his brother would ever be, he would always be their Little Fish - and then had the nerve to physically assault Gordon…

Virgil beat down his anger. Anger wasn’t what he needed right now. Scott had enough to cover the entire family and then some. What Virgil needed was to be calm and centred so he could be there for Gords.

Because despite having the military background, the tough exterior, and a strength of will that continued to stun Virgil with its ferocity, Gordon was…

Hell, he was Virgil’s little brother and while Scott eviscerated those responsible, Virgil had to make sure he was okay.

Beyond the obvious physical injuries.

The anger had to be stomped on again.

He jogged down the kitchen stairs and grabbed the paracetamol out of the medical kit stashed under the sink. He chugged it down with some coffee, probably hotter than it should be for the meds, but he needed both so that’s what he worked with.

Gords was lying on one of the loungers by the pool. It was odd to see him out there but not actually in the water. The sling holding a broken arm, the concussion, and black eye, hidden by convenient sunglasses, were reason enough.

As with all of Gordon’s injuries in the field, Virgil was fully prepared to find a way to enable his brother to get back into the pool as soon as possible.

It was a survival instinct, after all. A Fish out of water tended to be flammable and explosive - Virgil liked their villa in one piece and minus the pranks born of boredom or frustration.

But it would be a couple of days at least before Gordon could be let into the pool this time. The broken arm was fine, it was the head injuries that weren’t conducive to swimming.

Virgil stared out at his little brother a moment while downing the remains of his coffee. Food was likely out of the question, but Gords might be able to manage a light drink, get some simple sugars and energy into him.

Turning back to the kitchen, he rustled up some tropical fruit juices, coconut cream and ice, dropping a splash of cranberry into the mostly yellow and orange concoction. A small smile and Virgil dug out one of his brother’s little cocktail umbrellas to give it the Gordon-pizazz it required.

He even made one for himself, put both of them on a tray, along with a small bowl of brightly coloured barley sugars.

Holding the tray steady, Virgil stepped softly out onto the patio and bee-lined casually in his brother’s direction.

The dark sunglasses glanced up. “Virg, I’m fine.”

Virgil ignored him, sliding the tray onto the small table next to Gordon. Not saying anything at all, Virgil grabbed the nearest empty lounger and dragged it over, dumping himself into it with a sigh.

He claimed his drink and fiddled with the umbrella. They reminded him of his fish brother, they really did.

And the drink was cool on his coffee-blasted throat.

Nothing was said for a long moment.

“Scott toasting the GDF?” Gordon didn’t even look at Virgil.

“More like roasting, after skinning and gutting.”

“Perhaps we should put warning labels on our uniforms. Warning: Commander will go medieval on your ass if you ever lay a finger on any member of International Rescue.”

“Family.”

Gordon groaned. “Way to serious a perfectly good pun, bro.”

Virgil shrugged and his shoulders ached. “It was a serious incident.”

“Yeah.” The word was mostly breath and ever so resigned. His brother looked away, out towards the sea.

“How are you feeling?”

A sigh. “As I said, I’m fine.”

Virgil sipped at his drink. “You don’t look fine.”

Gordon shifted where he sat. “What do you expect?”

“No expectations.”

His brother scoffed and turned back to looking at the ocean. There was nothing but breeze, birds and the waves for a very long moment.

“No, I didn’t expect it all.”

“Expect what?”

“The good guy to be such an asshole.”

Virgil didn’t comment, sipping his drink and waiting…

“They are supposed to help us. Supposed to be us. I didn’t expect him to do that. I would never put my life above so many. I’m in this because I believe in what we do!” Gordon’s uninjured arm was pointing and gesticulating not unlike their biggest brother inside. Virgil was often struck by how Scott and Gordon were so similar, yet so different. “We are the ones with the skills, the equipment and the vow to do everything we can to help people out of dangerous situations. There were families, Virg! Little kids! And he was willing to sacrifice them all.”

“You did good, Gords, you know that.”

“I should have done better.” Gordon’s good hand balled into a fist. “I should have seen it coming. Should have seen beyond the uniform. Should have hit him harder!”

Virgil turned on the lounger and let his feet touch the concrete so he could reach over and place a hand on Gordon’s leg. “You did everything you possibly could. None of us expected betrayal, much less from the GDF.” He drew in a breath. “It will be fixed.”

Gordon scoffed. “Of course, it will be fixed. With both Scott and John on their asses, they’ll be lucky there is any GDF left by the time they’re finished.” Gordon wilted just a little. “I hate it when you guys have to do that. Scott doesn’t need any more grey hairs, and Johnny shouldn’t have to skirt the law. I should have handled it better.”

Virgil stared at his little brother. “What John does with the law is not your responsibility.” Though Virgil would need to check on his space brother. John was as pissed as Scott. Maybe they should have a movie night tonight with all the junk food to go with it. Drag John down, corner Scott, and get the lot of them to sit down and take a breather. A few hugs would definitely not go astray either. Some reassurance that Gords was still here. “And Scott is going to kick ass regardless. That GDF officer had no right to intervene on our rescue and then to put his life above all the others he was meant to save…” Virgil let the sentence hang and he fought down his rage and outrage again. He swallowed. “You did what you always do, Gordon.” His eyes latched onto those dark sunglasses. “You did us proud.”

The sunglasses stared at him a moment. “You okay?”

“I will be.” Once his brothers were okay.

“Virg?”

Virgil slid off the lounger and onto his knees, holding his arms out a little. “C’mere.”

Gordon rolled his eyes, but smiled as Virgil enveloped him in a hug.

It was for Virgil as much as Gordon.

To find a GDF officer on the train carriage had been a blessing at first. The man had taken charge, liaised with IR, and set people at ease. But once IR made it onto the scene and Gordon, and the rescue rig, arrived to start getting people out, the man has changed.

Sure, it was a perilous situation and yes, the train could have dropped any moment despite Two securing it with grapples. But nothing excused the man’s conduct.

He had thrown fellow passengers aside and demanded to be rescued first. Gordon, of course, said no. IR had its priorities and not only was the man a trained GDF officer, but fit and healthy, and, if the emergency became more dire, he would be more likely to survive a more physical rescue attempt. Unlike the elderly and the children on that train.

And hell, the man had taken a pledge to serve and protect.

None of them had expected anger from the man, much less physical violence. He grappled with Gordon, determined to board the rescue rig first.

Gordon was well trained and an expert in self defence. However, the dynamics changed when you were hanging over an empty chasm that ended in certain death.

Gordon was thrown from the train and it was one of the worst moments in Virgil’s life. Yes, his brother was tethered, thank god, but the carriage was precarious, moving with the sudden change in weight distribution, and tangling with the safety line. Both Gordon and the rig had been dragged down with the train, forcing Two to compensate. Alerts screamed as the grapples securing the carriage strained with the sudden shift.

Virgil’s voice still ached from his yelling his brother’s name.

And the lack of an answer.

It had been Virgil who shimmied down the rescue rig cable, desperate to locate Gordon with John worrying in his ears.

He had found his brother upside down with a massive dent in the side of his helmet, faceplate cracked, unconscious.

Virgil retrieved and secured him in the rescue rig.

Then it was Virgil who had to face the rogue GDF officer. Virgil, who was considered the gentle giant who wouldn’t hurt a soul.

Virgil, who physically picked up the yelling man and, despite his struggles, strapped him into the rescue rig in a very specific unable-to-move way. Hence the aching shoulders and the bruises.

Twenty people were rescued from that train, the very last barely making it out as gravity and wind finally took their toll and John was forced to release Two, or lose them all.

Most of them were injured in some way, but none as much as his little brother.

The GDF officer spent the rest of the ride strapped in the rescue rig in Module Two.

Virgil managed to not say a single word to the man the entire time.

Gordon woke up swearing, halfway to the hospital, and didn’t let up until the doctors let him go under Virgil’s supervision several hours later.

Debrief had been explosive. Scott livid, John tight lipped and furious, Virgil…

He pulled his little brother in just that little bit tighter.

“Oof, Virg, I’m okay.” But Gordon didn’t let go.

Virgil released him a little, but rested his head on his brother’s non-injured shoulder and closed his eyes.

And tried to convince himself of Gordon’s words.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic #fishtank #there were supposed to be more hugs in this #it was supposed to be a giftfic but isn't good enough #eh it is what it is #at least it is no longer a wip #unless a sequel starts chewing on my brain #which is always a possibility #after all Scotty is not happy #John is livid #and Virgil is a long smoldering mass of anger

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itsgrimeytime · 6 months

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The Nurse (Part Fifteen) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15...

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @hopefulatrocity @fuseburner @idkseraphine @emo-potato-virgil @mcuclintasha @8crazy-freak8 @peepeepoopoobutt @crazyunsexycool @alixxhere @allthetroubleiveseen @dxrkymxrchy @taylormarieee @maackiimoo

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: mentions of death, survival instinct, injury pain, gun violence (just violence in general), blood, throw up mention, swearing, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: I don't remember how this went down, but I just crafted something up. Sorry if it's not accurate. Thanks for reading !!!]]

You couldn't see straight, something in your head stirred. It was early, too early, but you felt something. Something familiar.

Your head felt stuffy, and your body was wrapped up in his -all long limbs and face smushed up against yours. Softening only for a second, your fingers trailed along his face -slowly tracing his features with a timid pace. You wanted to commit it to memory.

And then the sound came back, a deep sort of grumble -something making your head swim. It took only a few seconds before footsteps echoed down the hall -loud, rushed, pounding footsteps.

"Rick," a voice echoed, distant down the hall, "Rick-"

The voice only grew louder, and you nearly rose to your feet but he stayed intertwined with you. You ran your fingers through his hair, just for the second you could.

Something in you told yourself that it wouldn't be long until you couldn't.

And then you heard it again, loud rumbling. So loud you could guess that-

Something was coming.

You stilled. That... That thought was familiar.

"Oh god," you shot up out of bed like a rocket, leaving a grumbling Rick in your wake.

He turned to look at you, shining blue concern in his eyes, and you faltered even a second.

"Rick, Rick-" you breathed out, your inhales quick, "-he's back. I told you he would be back-"

"Woah, woah, hey," he whispered out, quickly sitting up, "-calm down, what do you mean he's-"

Then, it rumbled even louder. You flinched, waiting for the crinkling of metal but it hadn't come quite yet. Someone was out there stalling.

"Rick," Maggie finally appeared at the door, distraught, hair matted and eyes heavy, "-he's at the fence, Glenn won't let him move. I think he's gonna run him over."

Your hands were shaking, as you went to wake up the kids---- they were priority, first priority.

"Okay," he echoed, a little disheveled, but still there, still leading, "-okay."

Without a second thought, he leaned toward yours for a solid moment, whispering as he cradled your face, "You gonna be alright?"

You didn't hesitate, leaning forward and brushing your lips against his -you were shaking only a little then. Something in you was enveloped by him -the smoky scent of leather, if you focused hard enough you could smell the distant tone of his aftershave.

"I'll be fine," you spoke, holding his hands on your face with yours, "-stay alive, okay? Please."

"I love you," he responded instead, something heavy in his eyes -something that you knew too well.

You paused, sighing a deep sort of sigh, "I love you too."

You couldn't remember just standing there for so long, but you had. Preoccupied by the thoughts of your racing mind and Judith who slept away in her cradle. You figured you could stay by her side until-

Carl had ran out, you realized suddenly. You couldn't remember when, you were so disjointed and afraid- Carl had run out.

You turned to Judith, ready to pick her up and get out of there and then you heard it.

The growling. It was so loud now, there was no way-

A nail scraped into your arm, and you froze. Only for a second. The hand was dirty, trying to reach past you straight for Judith, you knew that hand, you knew that smell-

Walkers.

"Shit, shit-" you yelled out, blood rising to the surface, you spun around and took your knife, stabbing it straight into the head.

Almost on instinct.

"Alright, c'mon Jude," you breathed out hefty breaths -you knew what that meant, but you couldn't think now, "-c'mon, c'mon-"

She was still so tiny, as you grabbed her up -your blood staining her sheets but all you could think about was her. Taking care of her, keeping her safe-

You grabbed the bag by the bed, slinging it over your shoulder -it was heavy with her supplies, which was good. Something in your head rang out, big and loud but you just put it aside, alarm bells would have to wait.

Carl and Rick-

Your mind echoed, despite the pace you were moving, where are they?

It was with some hope that you wished together was your answer. If Carl had ran out, you were certain Rick would find him. Find you.

"He'll find me," you whispered out, correcting yourself and kissing Judith onto of the head, "-us. He'll find us."

The courtyard was full on them, you realized, stepping out towards the doors. And across the way you could see the hole, the tank-

Bile raised up into your throat. He's here somewhere.

God, you didn't know where he-

You tucked Judith in closer to you and steeled. There was no time to worry, no time to think.

Exhale, inhale, you moved without thinking. Wrapping Judith into another layer -extra layers only helped then. Any wandering jaws couldn't get to her.

Something passed over you then, as you ran through your office -quick, precise movements, only the things you needed.

It was a dead-end. But you needed supplies, if Judith was going to rely on you, you needed to survive.

"Even if ya don't know if I'm safe, or... or alive, stay safe. Just- Just on the off chance I'm alive, take care of yourself."

You hesitated a mere second, blue eyes lighting up your mind. You wished you were back in the morning, back with him -wrapped up in him, as the sun rose. But you weren't and he wasn't here-

Your feet moved of their own accord, weaving through the courtyard -hand tight on Judith, you couldn't hesitate here. Not now.

You were sobbing, you realized distantly, the break of your chest -the gasping... You hadn't even noticed.

Running out past the fence, you pulled Judith closer to you, as if she wasn't close enough. It just felt safer. Your eyes ran over the prison, desperate, looking for anyone, ANYTHING.

Yet, you came up empty handed.

You got a bit of deja vu then, looking up at the tall building, yearning for a man -the same man.

You knew it then, it would end the same.

And despite it all, that hope was still there, deep in your furrowed chest. Burned into your heart now, you hoped to see him again.

The words were all mixed and slurred between tears but still there, as you whispered a quiet, "-I love you."

You looked down at Judith, she still seemed to be waking up, "We love you."

"Good luck cowboy."

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #the nurse #nurse!reader #doctor!reader

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footballffbarbiex · 2 months

Text

A little smutty something with Virg as promised, even if it's 24 hours later than I'd hoped!

warnings: breeding talk, threat of hitting it raw (but use protection of some kind peeps irl), dirty talk

In your humble opinion, there were few things sexier than a last minute winning goal. Admittedly, getting there is often pull-your-hair-out stressful and leaves you becoming infuriated as the match goes on but that high? That rush? There's nothing like it, especially if it's a goal that happens just before the last few seconds of the game.

Of course, it's not always welcomed when it's the opposition which do this. The temptation to riot is there and you feel like waiting for the ref outside and bringing the fight to him, but tonight - despite the frustrations and interesting refereeing decisions made - you don't have time to pick fights.

You'd watched as Virgil had celebrated, was interviewed, celebrated some more and lifted the trophy whilst being sprayed with champagne. They'd celebrated with the fans before heading back inside. His - and the team's - joy was contagious if you were a Red and it was clear to see how much this win meant to them. While they took the bus home, you'd travelled back from London on the train with some of the other WAGs, you'd spent enough hours cooped up on a coach to know that it wasn't worth the journey back via that method of transportation.

He's in too much of a good mood, no doubt spurred on by a little happy liquid, by the time he finally stepped from the bus making it so that you'd slipped behind the wheel of the car and set off back home. He flips between sitting back with a big stupid ass grin on his face and talking to you, but at all times, his hand rests upon the top of your thigh, fingertips moving ever so carefully without his finger itself moving. Every so often, he'd drag his hand further up, fingers stroking over your clothed inner thigh before moving back to where they'd originally started.

By the time you pull onto the driveway, your nerves are shot to shit and your underwear is no longer dry from the expectation and this brought on a whole new meaning to you of what edging was.

The key is barely in the lock when Virgil is behind you, hands pulling at your hips, forcing you backwards and holding you against his swelling cock. There's a slight shift as he bends to kiss your neck and instinctively, you tilt your head to give him better access.

"We're not even inside yet," you tell him, feeling your eyelids growing heavy with each blink becoming harder to open them as his fingers begin to undress you right here on the doorstep. It slips beneath the waistband of your underwear, pushes over your pubic bone and parts your folds. Your hand is fumbling, key struggling to turn as your concentration begins to focus on something else.

"Then open the door," his hand covers yours, turning it and pushing the door open within seconds with such ease, you should feel ashamed from the way your arousal has clouded everything else but you're having a hard time caring about anything but getting some part of this man within one of your holes.

"S-s-sorry," you stammer, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he kicks the door closed and keeps the hand that cups your pussy pressed firmly against you.

"You should be. Making me wait longer to fuck you." He reprimands, pushing you against the nearest wall and standing as close to you as possible so that he can stare down at you, reminding you in one way or another just how small you are compared to him. Realisation of this has your cunt tightening.

"I think you'll find the bus arrived half an hour after I did. It's you that made me wait." You try to make a joke to follow it but one long finger strokes over your soaked hole and teases the entrance with his fingertip, making your eyes close and you buck your hips, almost fucking his singular finger. "Fuuuuck Virg," the words come out as a hiss followed by a pathetic moan.

"Yes baby?"

Your mouth opens to speak but he slips his finger in further while his palm rubs against your clit in such a way you almost see stars from finally feeling some kind of contact after what felt like eternity. Everything about this, considering how eager and impatient he claims to have been leading up to this, is slow and drawn out. His finger works you until each time he pulls his finger back, you can feel your wetness drip from you. He adds a second, the pace now picking up and you're able to hear the lewd sounds of every thrust of them.

"I don't hear what you have to say," he speaks so calmly, it's hard to imagine that he's doing what he's doing.

"Need you." You manage to pant.

"But you're having me." his tone is almost mocking but you don't care.

"no. I need you."

"Use your words baby." he coos at you. "What do you want?"

"Your cock." you circle your hips and whine when both fingers are full within you at your request.

"Where do you want my cock?"

"In me."

"Be more specific."

"In my pussy."

"Yeah? Want me to go upstairs and get a condom?" He asks, eyes searching your face but you can't focus on him right now. Every thought and action your body is capable of doing in this moment is trying to keep you upright and not have your knees giving in.

"No." You say the singular word with such determination it brings a chuckle from him.

"Oh, it's not like you to want me to fuck you raw. What's wrong? Need me to breed you huh?" He doesn't need a reply, your walls clamp around his fingers in such a way, you're almost pushing him back out again with the tightness. "I think you like the sound of that. Me fucking you, barely pulling out so that you have every inch of me inside of you, fucking you until I'm done with you and filling you up. Look at the way you're fucking my fingers baby," he says as he adds a third too easily. "You're taking these too well, it's like you're desperate for my cock. Is that what you want?"

"Mmmmm."

"Then tell me. Tell me you want me to breed you."

"I need it Virg, need you to breed me."

"All you had to do was ask."

#virgil van dijk smut #virgil van dijk imagine #virgil van dijk one shot #virgil van dijk drabble #virgil van dijk blurb #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil van dijk fanfic #football imagine #football one shot #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #football blurb #football fanfiction #football fanfic #footballer fanfiction

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