#batman#superman#bruce wayne#clark kent#dc fanart#superbat#superman 2025
#ao3#writeblr#ao3 fanfic#archive of our own#writing community
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Egypt
Day two of the old guard and it’s time for Val!!
I have no idea who came up with her name being Val, nor which name it was shortened from, but I like it
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hope in the darkness
P3
The journey to the astroid K/46 is a long one, even with Thunderbird 3 ions engine, just allows a little talk and memorys to be spilled out
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
——————
The Train c1: The Players
For @call-me-casual whose Whumperless Whump prompt has inspired this multi-fandom fic, and @mariashades who suggested putting Colonel White on a train...
~
It wasn’t a mode of transport that Charles had often used, even when his life revolved around things on the ground and sea, but since his life was now lived up in the air it was much less likely.
So when World President Younger invited him as CIC of Spectrum to a security conference that was hosted on his private train.
Charles had blinked at that. Years before there had been Air Force One…but a train???
But the President was convinced that this would be a) easy to police and b) not easy to spy on and, as his position demanded, Younger got his way.
Blackbirds propaganda drop woop woop
Some work I did for @thescoutpilot on his TAG au 🤞
redesign of colonel casey inspired by her va adjoa andoh because she is an icon
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
In commemoration of the recent bomber drone hit on Chornobyl reactor sarcophagus, I absolutely had to do a thing. The GDF ask Scott to step out of his comfort zone and are shady, undeclared wars loom treacherous and deadly amid Global Peace, Jeff is dealing with memories worse than I expected. The Radioactive Trio are my bosom darlings, so maybe there will be a Part 2.
Always hugs and thanks to @janetm74 for talking all the wayward ideas through with me.
DÉJÀ VU
His father's face was somber and taut in the bluish hues of the wrist com - a rare occurrence after his return to them. That alone made Scott speed up the jog back to the villa.
It wasn't unusual for Dad to be up early lately, to see Gordon off to his first swim of the day and to catch Scott back from the morning run. They'd share a coffee (decaf for Dad), a chat about orders of business for the day, maintenance or training plans, and a centering, tentative sense of normalcy that had just ever entered their routine on the island before Zero-X ripped Dad away from them for years. Things weren't the same - Scott was the one with more information now and a decisive vote on the agenda of their family, but it was a start. For the first time in almost a decade Scott felt like the day ahead wasn't about to swallow him whole, like he could share at least some of the burden without apprehension or guilt. Almost without, that is.
The pit of unease and worry was growing in his stomach now. Dad would never have called him through the run without good reason. At first Scott panicked it was Dad's health, still very far from pre Oort Cloud bottomline, but the monitor and Eos would have alerted him sooner. Dad's face was inscrutable, his words clipped and dry. He needed Scott in the study ASAP, not the lounge, for some reason, so Scott accelerated up the rocky path back to the villa. Shower was obviously not an option, although he was sweating buckets. Years of growing up in Jeff Tracy's household, however, made him pause a second in front of the door, wipe the sweat away with the hem of his old Yale t-shirt and attempt to comb fingers through the hair, damp and curling in spikes every which way. Not that it helped much.
The study, which first Jeff, and then Scott favored for important conference calls and other business matters that couldn't withstand the bustle and hustle of the lounge and other communal areas, was now dominated by a hologram of Colonel Casey. Dad's face was positively grim as Jeff stood up to greet him. The maw of anxiety was by then snapping with teeth of steel in his gut.
Dad clasped a hand over his shoulder, a brief but welcome comfort, as he steered Scott to take his place at the desk. Scott nodded in a brief greeting as his father repositioned himself with an effort in the armchair by the wall, suddenly looking older than he usually did in the mornings. It didn't help that Aunt Val's face was serious, edges of her face hard and sharp.
"Colonel Casey."
"Scott! I need to request your help."
"Sure, what's the situation?"
He glanced across the room at Dad in mild bewilderment, as typically the GDF would not hesitate to forward initial data and rescue specs to John up in Five. The need to know was beginning to unnerve him.
"There's been a localized breach in the dome of the outer protective sarcophagus over the fourth reactor of the Chornobyl nuclear power plant."
That was... not good, by any yardstick. The abandoned and sealed reactor had been a radioactive hotzone for almost eighty years by then.
Colonel Casey droned on, as if reading off a script.
"The repairs require high altitude certified responders with experience in contaminated areas."
Yep, that sounded like a job description for him, alright. Fly in One, seal the dome up top, submit radiation readings from the patch for inspection, fly back. If he left now, he'd be home on the island in time for breakfast. Worst case scenario, he'd have to wait around for Virgil in Two to help with putting out the fire. The hardest part would be to wake Virg up this early. He glanced up with a ready smile, but Colonel Casey wasn't meeting his eyes. His father was sitting ramrod straight and still, hands gripping the cane.
"There's something else, Scott."
There always was! He gave the Colonel room to continue with an expectant silence.
"I know you made your stance very clear on NOT deploying International Rescue as law enforcement and I respect that."
For some reason it felt like Casey was addressing his father more so than himself.
"But under the circumstances, I have to request that you assisted the GDF investigation on site".
The pit in his stomach grew wider.
"Under the the circumstances?"
Colonel Casey paused, as if weighing her options one last time. Jeff's death grip on the cane turned his knuckles white and skeletal.
"We have reasons to believe the breach didn't occur by natural causes... or a local sabotage."
He was about five when the Big War erupted the first time. He'd been to a warzone since then - memories he'd rather not touch willingly. He knew the dill. If it wasn't wear and tear, or a disgruntled extremist with a dynamite pack... it was...
"We suspect the dome was damaged due to a collision with a high velocity unguided aircraft."
A drone. To breach the layers of concrete, designed to contain radiation for centuries to come, the drone had to carry a hefty payload. To direct a bomber drone at the one object under protection of the Global Peace Treaty for the exact purpose of avoiding a continent-wide nuclear catastrophe meant one thing. A war.
Scott squeezed his eyes shut against a rapid onset of a headache and a creeping panic. He caught a glimpse of Dad doing the same in his chair. Five rhythmic breaths later - one for each brother and Dad - he ventured to face Colonel Casey again.
"How can I assist the GDF investigation, Colonel?"
Surprisingly, Aunt Val's face softened in a shadow of a smile.
"I need you to oversee our investigators and be a liaison between the GDF team and the local authorities and rescue services."
"Liaison?"
"Translator, Scott. You speak astronaut Russian and..."
Colonel Casey paused, but it was his godmother Val, who went a shade paler. Scott himself stifled a chill, although the study was perfectly climate controlled. He also spoke Bereznikian. He was semi-fluent, through no will of his own, in the crude amalgamation of Ukrainian, Polish and Hungarian. That Place was still reaching back to haunt and taunt him. To reassert its grip.
In the chair across the room his father hunched in on himself.
"I don't have to tell you any findings of the investigation are strictly classified. We need to keep it all under wraps, for now."
He could guess as much. Same as he was having a very good hunch who the GDF expert investigators in the radioactive exclusion zone would be. Maybe Aunt Val expected him to do a bit more than just "liaise with local authorities". "Keep an eye on young Cameron and make sure Marion doesn't do anything hasty and reckless, that could cause another Global Conflict", more like. Easier said than done. But he had never backed off a challenge in his life.
"Copy that, Colonel! Forward me the rendezvous coordinates and I'll be there in One. It'll be fastest."
Aunt Val was obviously pleased he was quick to read between the lines.
"You'll meet Leutenant Van Arkle and Corporal Ortíz at an airbase in Katowice, then fly from there to Chornobyl."
Scott frowned for a second. His father's face a mirror of his own concern. The GDF were willing to draw attention to the impact site with One of the IR fame swoooshing in over the megapolis to the Exlusion Zone, but not advertise the involvement of their own officers. That could never point to anything comforting. Two tagging along for the ride was out of the question now too. So Scott would have to prepare for any eventuality without backup.
He was up on his feet in time for Colonel Casey's hologram to blink out. Dad was getting up too, a lot slower. Jeff's eyes were ill, haunted, hoarse voice thick.
"You don't have to do it, son. You don't have to go there."
As far as Scott was concerned, he didn't really have a choice. Someone attacked a still hot, faulty nuclear reactor. Scott wanted to reassure Dad it wasn't That Place. Only it was a demilitirized zone in Eastern Europe, several miles away from the border with a rogue dictatorship, in the middle of a forest still rigged with field mines and littered with undetonated missiles, with multiple unknown hostile factors and agents on the ground. The parallels were hard to ignore, so his own fingers were going numb with long repressed dread.
Scott stepped around the desk and gave his father a swift, fierce hug. For a brief moment it felt like Dad wouldn't let him go. But arms, suddenly frail, fell back and Scott hurried out. He still needed a shower before heading to his macabre destination. "No thieves or dangerous radiation" was, apparently, not in the cards. Again.
Tale of an Iron-Clad Stomach
Sally Tracy swept into the lobby of the exclusive rehabilitation and physical therapy facility Jeff was relegated to as he reacclimatised to Earth. She was at the head of a troop of four of her grandsons, plus Brains and Kayo, and had a mysterious box tucked under her right arm.
“Good morning, Janice,” she greeted the young woman – dear God, was she old enough to be out of high school? – on reception duty.
“Good morning,” Janice chirped back. “He’s in his room with Alan, they’re expecting for you.”
Colonel Casey: I don’t think we need International Rescue for this one.
Scott: Fine, suit yourself then!
Scott: *turns around and walks away*
John, over the comms: Erm, where are you going?
Scott: Back to Thunderbird 1.
John: But Thunderbird 1 is the-
Scott: The other way, I know!
Scott: I was just in dire need of a dramatic exit.
Scott: I’ll circle back once I’m out of sight, but let me have this!
