#no alan scott again :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gumnut-logic · 11 months

Photo

Virgil huddled on the couch wrapped in a blanket.

The house was quiet and dark, which was appropriate since it was somewhere around three am. He wasn’t entirely sure the exact time since it was depressing to look at a clock.

He’d been staring at one for far too long already.

The only light in the room was a combination of moon through the overhead rafters and the light from his tablet.

The only warmth was the mug of hot chocolate that was keeping his hands warm.

It was ridiculous really. Because it really wasn’t cold. He had no doubt that if he looked at the temperature gauge, which sat beside the clock, he would discover a number like twenty-one degrees Celsius.

But he was still cold.

As if to emphasise the thought he shivered, almost spilling his hot beverage.

It was one of those nights.

A night where doubts crept in. Where thoughts that had no rational foundation crawled up his spine and ate his brain.

And then the dreams claimed him.

You would think a good fifteen years would help heal an incident from that long ago. But no, the ice was still there, still trapping him in his nightmares.

An exasperated scoff at himself and he put down the drink before he spilt it. He pulled the blanket tighter and revelled in the darkness that hid him from everyone.

But then if he wanted to hide, why was he in the comms room? He could be tucked away in his bedroom and no one would know. If he stayed here, sooner or later, a brother or other family member would trot past and start asking questions.

Perhaps he both did and didn’t want to be found.

Guilt hit him. His brothers didn’t need his crap. They really didn’t.

All the Tracy brothers had their late night demons and they really didn’t need him adding to their worries.

He made to get up, pulling the blanket even tighter.

But he didn’t.

And hated himself for it.

He was supposed to be the strong one. Supposed to be the steadfast rock in a storm. Why was he sitting here shivering when he could do something about it like bury himself in work or a hot shower.

The hot shower had worked so many times before.

But the truth of the matter was that he wanted his brothers.

So why wasn’t he knocking on Scott’s door? Or talking to John?

Because they had their own problems. Both needed their sleep more than Virgil needed them.

He shivered again.

The moon felt like cold fingers on his skin.

He should return to his rooms.

His eyes caught the shadows of the portraits on the walls, cast almost monochrome in the moonlight. He had painted every one of them, ever so proud of his family. Alan stared out at him impishly and Virgil wondered if his littlest brother had ever noticed that Virgil had given him two different coloured eyes. Not intentionally, and it was very subtle, but Virgil knew it was there.

Just enough to reflect the John and Scott adoration in his smile.

Gordon’s portrait was ever the professional. Virgil had been so proud to paint him after that long and agonising time they had thought their fish brother may never join them in International Rescue. There was so much determination in those brown eyes, so much strength. Virgil felt so much for his little brother.

Ever so much.

And this was why he wasn’t asking.

They didn’t need his crap.

Scott’s painted eyes accused him in the dark.

As for John, Virgil could feel his eyes from orbit. Eos would have tracked him stumbling from his rooms down to the kitchen. Would have noted the lack of light. The sensors in his clothes would have reported his agitated heartbeat.

She would wake John the moment anything went awry. A single beat out of sequence and he would have his entire family narrowing in on him.

It was both reassuring and a little terrifying.

But it gave him an out if he needed it.

If he really wanted his brothers, if he wanted to talk, any of them would be there. He knew this.

But he couldn’t ask.

It wasn’t fair to them.

Annoyed with himself, he grabbed the hot chocolate off the table and guzzled enough to pool heat in his belly.

A figure leapt over the back of the couch and landed beside him.

“Hey, Virg.”

Hot chocolate was inhaled and Virgil found himself coughing. A hand patted his back as he desperately tried to clear his airways. “Gordon, what the hell?”

“You know you’re s’posed to drink that, not snort it.”

Virgil glared at him in the darkness at that non-answer. “What are you doing here?”

“My squidsense was tingling.”

Virgil arched an eyebrow.

“Okay, I needed to pee.”

“There’s a bathroom in your suite.”

“Aaand I think John left some of the cake from dinner in the fridge. I was on a mission to acquire it. But then I saw my favourite heavy lifter shivering on the couch and I detoured.”

Virgil swallowed, the need to deny everything on the tip of his tongue, but he was suddenly engulfed in a very enthusiastic hug. Arms and shoulders ever so built up from years of swimming and his brother’s slight weight pinned him where he sat, the blanket tangling enough he couldn’t really do anything.

It was both annoying and a relief.

“Gordon? What?”

His brother’s answer was muffled in Virgil’s blanket.

“Can you breathe?” Could Virgil breathe? Those arms were stronger than they looked.

A muffled ‘I’m good’ was the only response from Gordon as Virgil sat with a fish clinging to him like a limpet but unable to return the expression.

And Gordon was much more patient than Virgil would normally have given him credit for because they sat like that for what seemed like ages.

Eventually, Virgil had to relax into his brother’s hold because if he tensed any further, he might have broken something.

As if that was what Gordon had been waiting for…and it probably was…his brother’s arms loosened and his head came up. Eyes barely catching the moon’s reflection gazed at Virgil worriedly as if looking for something.

“Gords, what?” Virgil cleared his throat as that had come out far too hoarse for comfort. His brother still hadn’t entirely let go.

“I’m not going to ask if you are okay, because you’re obviously not.” Those eyes continued to search. “What do you need?”

Virgil blinked. “What?” He still really didn’t have an answer. Or maybe he did and just didn’t want to face it.

Gordon seemed to know exactly what Virgil was thinking and it was incredibly confronting. Virgil wriggled where he sat and Gordon let him go.

Virgil missed the contact immediately.

Gordon was still staring at him.

Another moment.

“Okay, this needs the big guns.” Gordon reached for his collar and Virgil’s eyes widened.

“N-“

“Eos, we have a V alert. Total darkness, shivering and very little response. Launch protocol.”

The AI’s crisp ‘FAB’ only widened Virgil’s eyes further. “Gordon, what are you doing?!”

“What obviously needs to be done.” With that, he grabbed Virgil again and literally snuggled up beside him. “Reinforcements are on the way.”

“Reinforcements?”

As if summoned, two other pyjama-clad brothers barrelled into the room at a run. One stopped and stared at Virgil, while the smaller one just kept going and took a flying leap over the lounge and landed with a woomph beside him. Alan, because it was Alan, then burrowed into Virgil’s side like some kind of cephalopod with just as many arms.

He was very warm.

“What? What are you guys doing up?” Scott’s hair was skew-whiff and sticking up like the wind was blowing from the left.

Alan was wriggling. “Gimme some blanket, I’m cold.”

Well, that was a load of bullshit, because Virgil could feel the heat radiating off his little brother through said blanket. But Virgil was his big brother and his response was automatic. A shift off the lounge and somehow or other he suddenly found two younger brothers wrapped in the blanket with him.

It was very, very warm.

A steaming hot fresh mug of hot chocolate appeared in front of him, a marshmallow floating idly. Where did that come from?

The hand holding it belonged to Scott, of course, and he was crouching down with a concerned smile on his face.

One of the lamps flickered on, a Gordon shaped hand reaching out from under the blanket to do so. The soft light lit everything up ever so gently and added to the warmth welling up inside him.

Virgil took the mug, its steam dancing above it in silvery swirls.

Four other mugs appeared and Scott was sitting on the floor beside Virgil’s legs.

His hair was still sticking up.

“John’s on his way down.”

Virgil blinked. “Why?”

Scott snorted. “You think he would miss out on a V protocol?”

“What the hell is V protocol?”

His big brother glanced up at him, but didn’t say anything. He did smile, though. A hand reached up and squeezed Virgil’s knee.

As promised, a dopey looking John appeared a few moments later. He was dressed in the necessary casual wear that helped him with gravity assist, but his hair was worse than Scott’s. One half of his usually swept fringe was sticking out at a sixty degree angle in the complete opposite direction. It looked like he was sporting an antenna.

By that time, the holoprojector had been flicked on to some random sea monster movie. Consequently, Science!Gordon was completely deployed. The blanket he was now sharing with Virgil was wrenched back and forth as he complained about marine animal inaccuracies and no, sharks did not do that? “Can you believe that, Virg? It’s an outrage!”

Virgil just stared at his little brother. John pulled up his share of the floor beside Scott and Virgil’s other leg and held up a bowl of popcorn.

Where the hell had popcorn come from?!

It was caramel flavoured.

Of course, the moment an alien appeared in the movie to tackle the giant sea creatures, a debate between Alan and Gordon fired up either side of Virgil.

It got quite loud.

Someone squeezed his knee again.

And Virgil found himself blinking. A lot.

But he was warm.

Ever so warm.

Leaning back against the couch, he sighed and let all his muscles relax as the noise flowed over him.

Ever, ever so warm.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #Alan Tracy #John Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #again

40 notes · View notes

edutainer2022 · 2 years

Text

A comment got me thinking that it's probably shaping up into a "Tracy Brothers Deal with Grief" (mini)series(ish) thing. It's a Dad-is-gone grief so far, but we'll see how it goes.

1) Tell the Water (Gordon and Scott)

2) Play of Light (Scott; John and Virgil feature)

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy needs a hug #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #my fic #scott tracy needs his dad #thunderbirds 2015 #john tracy #alan tracy #jeff tracy #looks like i'm writing fic again who knew #methinks i have astronomy #tw:suicidal ideation #tw: grief #tracy brotherdom of angst #every tracy brother needs a hug #stages of grief

2 notes · View notes

waspredteeth · 1 month

Text

You know what I've realized these past several months on Tumblr and just...years of consuming content?

It's pretty rare for the fandom to acknowledge Gotham as a city. A real, living city with people in it. Like, sure we always get cutesy posts about Batman or the others from outside perspectives or fics that include interesting ocs (I love u if you do that btw).

But what I mean isn't that. What I mean is: does anyone think of Gotham and its citizens as actual people? Because I've sure seen kind of the opposite.

I see constant arguments or heavily biased (mostly misinformed) posts regarding what Bruce does and how the Batman helps the city. That his riches would get lost in corruption and no one can save the city unless there's violence. You could try and make the argument, sure. But we've seen time and time again in comics that Bruce uses his money to the benefit of the city. We've seen in comics that he employs people who are disadvantaged and gives them opportunities. People know Bruce Wayne gives jobs and treats his employees well. He donates heavily to charities, creates his own organizations, funds Leslie Thompkin's clinic, and consistently updates the safety of his own buildings. People (at least post-Crisis) would know that Bruce Wayne did everything he could to save Gotham after the Cataclysm earthquake/No Man's Land - that he went up against Congress. Of course, not everyone would like Batman. Not everyone would trust the Wayne name. They'd see a stranger who prowls nightly and may or may not rescue you. They'd see the privilege of an old rich name who gets to exert his influence over the city. If you go to him for help, you go to him with the fear, and anticipation of rejection or with the knowledge that he will be safe.

I've also seen the (imo) ridiculous notion that Crime Alley citizens would trust the Red Hood. Maybe some would now, after the reboots and actual comic book evidence that he's doing something. But I cannot fathom living in a city with such heavy crimes occurring and then trusting what is essentially a cop. People don't know the Red Hood. They don't know Jason Todd. They would only know: 1. he has tried and succeeded various times to take over organized crime and drug routes 2. he can and will kill if he sees it fit. In some people's eyes, he would be a cop with even less judicial oversight. In some families, he would be the killer of their breadwinner, of their fathers or family members or lovers. A man with a gun. Eyes without a face. If you go to him for help, you go to him for blood.

This doesn't even begin to lay out the insane amount of vigilantes who live/operate in Gotham. The Batman is not the only figure. The Red Hood is not the only figure. If you boil down Gotham to only the conflict between these two characters, you miss the nuances and varied opinions of the city by miles. If you boil down Gotham to just Batman-affiliates, you miss even more.

For every person who doesn't trust Batman, there's someone who'd prefer Huntress. For every child who lives in fear but can't trust an adult, there's Robin or Batgirl. For an abused woman, there's other women out there who help: Catwoman or Black Canary or Holly Robinson. There's people who'd never trust a vigilante but want safety, they'd have Leslie Thompkins (who operates in Crime Alley) or Lucius Fox who could give them a job.

Not to mention, Batman is very obviously white. There would be some people who would rightfully mistrust white men, and would prefer figures like Orpheus or Onyx or Batwing or the Signal or Huntress (post-N52). There's the Creeper, who would be terrifying but some might prefer the monster over the man. There's Ragman, an explicitly Jewish vigilante who was literally called the Tatterdemalion of the Oppressed and trusted by the poor and homeless. There's Batwoman, Mother Panic, Spoiler, Nightwing, Red Robin, Azrael, Bluebird, the enigmatic idea of the Oracle, Anarky, Ghostmaker, Gotham Girl/Boy, Catman, Alan Scott-Green Lantern, Wildcat.

Hell, maybe someone who lives in Gotham would just straight up trust Superman or the Flash or Wonder Woman more than anyone else. Maybe they'd never once trust someone acting for a perceived view of justice and would just trust an employer like Two-Face or the Riddler or any mobster.

I'm stressing my point here: when you write anyone who lives in Gotham City, keep in mind that they don't know they live in a comic book world. Secret identities are foreign to them, they only know the base actions of each vigilante. Each person's opinion will heavily vary. Every experience colors their view of the city and vigilantes as a whole. Just, idk, widen your horizons and consider about what someone living in a place like Gotham would really think.

To that end, read the comics!!! Research actual cities!!! Take in experiences and history!!! It's all interesting and just adds so much more.

You want one comic that shows Bruce helping Gotham and the various views of Gothamites, read Gotham Knights #32, published in 2002 and titled "24/7." Read it online illegally if you have to!!

#i'm not hating on existing content #make what you want!#I've just always wanted to see more #because there is more to explore #dc #batman #dc comics #batman meta #gotham city #DM for a link to the comic issue if you want #just be prepared for a comic website with pop-up ads #robin #dc meta #bruce wayne #I am Not tagging all these people

119 notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 1 year

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: all characters are over the age of 18! :)

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

ENTP

Ravenclaw

Chaotic Good

Gemini Sun, Aries Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You’re light in not only Stiles’ life, but the whole group.

・They come to you when life feels too much.

・You’re there with the kettle on, ready to hear their problems and read their tea leaves

・There’s always an animal worming their way around your legs, either a cat or one of your dogs

・You adopt as many animals as you can, usually from Alan Deaton, the vet.

・Scott likes you because you bring a sense of calm to Stiles’ chaos

・And Stiles didn’t realise he had a crush on you until Scott pointed it out.

・You constantly have to bring Stiles back down to earth. His mind is constantly racing and thinking about the next problem

・Stiles couldn’t help but fall in love with you. You were always so kind to him. When everyone else thought he was ‘too much’, you couldn’t get enough

・ It was your smile that did it for Stiles. That sweet, sometimes mischievous smile.

・You originally thought Stiles was one of those sceptics that brushed the existence of magic as mere fiction

・But Stiles was the first one to believe in your witchcraft:

“We have werewolves, Banshees and god knows what else. A witch seems the most realistic.”

・When the group doesn’t have any leads, they come to you for help. It’s not easy being a witch. It uses a lot of energy. You can do locating spells, but it drains you a lot

・Stiles hates coming to you for help because he knows how much it physically costs you

・Some teenagers like to graffiti your home - but they can only do it once. You’ve cast a spell so whoever tries to do it again loses their ability to talk normally

・It also means you know who’s been doing it

・Because parents panic and news always travels around town, the graffiti is next to non-existent now (also because Stiles makes sure to clean it off before you notice)

・He can be very, very stubborn. And often thinks he knows what is best.

・But he’s also ... very honest. So you know when he’s lying (he’s so bad at it):

“Stiles...tell me the truth.”

“The truth is ... that ... I ... am...- okay god stop looking at me like that.”

・Likes cuddling A LOT. But is fussy, and if he can’t get perfectly comfortable, then he wants to be the little spoon.

・Is a really heavy sleeper, and whenever he stays over at your place he’s the last to wake up

・LOVES when you make his favourite food. Literally falls in love, not even being dramatic. His mind is like ‘this is the one. I’m keeping them.’

・Loyal to. a. fault. Will die for you, will do everything in his power to keep you safe and out of danger. That’s another reason why he doesn’t like getting you involved in the supernatural stuff.

・You know exactly what he’s thinking, because you can see it clearly on his face.

・ “Stiles, do you tell my secrets to Scott?”

“Ugh, not the really secretive ones?”

・Sheriff Stilinksi loves you, he thinks you’re great for Stiles. You make his chaos less ... chaotic. He was a bit apprehensive about your witchcraft at first, but then he had the same outlook as Stiles. “At least you’re not a ...hellhound or something.”

・Stiles NEVER fails to make you laugh

・You find the most random things in his car. Ducktape, a metal baseball bat, keys to many, many buildings, rope. You asked him if he had a first aid kit, since he had everything else, and his eyes glazed over.

“I KNEW I was forgetting something. God!”

・You make protection amulets for him, and give him crystals. He doesn’t understand but takes them wholeheartedly anyway

・His favourite crystals are labradorite (”because I like when it shines, duh”), malachite and blue tiger’s eye

・Vending machines are his mortal enemy and if he sees one he forbids you from using it (you use it anyway)

・Having weekly meals at his father’s place

・You were really really good friends with Allison, and her death was heavy for you.

・Adores going to metaphysical stores with you. He picked out a deck of tarot cards (wants to pay but you never let him. So he tries to gift you as many things as you’ll need, so he can buy them)

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖: You’d think he would be very open with nicknames for you. But he’s very embarrassed by it. Not embarrassed of you, but of showing you verbal affection. After being in a stable relationship for a while, he would start calling you names like ‘sweetheart,’ or ‘honey’, especially when you weren’t listening to his warnings

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆: Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation. He’s always on the go and can feel like you aren’t a part of his world. But you always make sure to leave little trinkets in his pockets or in his car.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Romantic Flight by John Powell

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Chaotic Dumbass (Stiles) x Oh God That’s My Chaotic Dumbass (You)

Gifts Rocks As Gifts x Takes The Rocks Without Question

Talks A Lot (Stiles) x Likes To Listen (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

It’s Always Been You

#stiles headcanons #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf headcanons #dating would include #witchthewriter #witch reader #stiles x witch #stiles x reader #stiles x witch reader #teen wolf witch #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #self insert #gender neutral reader #stiles x y/n #stiles x you

569 notes · View notes