#and for that to highlight how much scott is damaging himself all the time!!! BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS

[flyersheartbreaker]

Forever By Your Side| Isaac Ratcliffe

a/n: this is my first imagine that I am officially publishing! I am very excited to share all of my writing content and series with you guys :)

Pair: Isaac Ratcliffe x reader

Summary: Watching your boyfriend Isaac get seriously hurt during one of his home games and watching him battle through the toughest injury a hockey player could battle, so he can continue on with dream playing in the NHL

Warnings: Hockey Injuries, Cussing, Cute Fluff

Word Count: 3,321 words

It was just another ordinary Sunday afternoon watching a game live from the PPL center here in Allentown, Pennsylvania or so I thought. The game was going really well with the Phantoms up 3-1 on the Hershey Bears half way through the second period. There was your beloved star-studded boyfriend number 19 carrying the puck up against the boards through the neutral zone when suddenly bam everything went to complete silence, except for that shear sound that you wish you could so badly get out of you head.

I jumped out of my seat and darted up the stairs from the lower-level seats that I was sitting in with some of the other girlfriends. I can hear the god-awful scream ringing in my ears over and over again that was coming down from ice level. The crowd was silent, so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop and when that happens you know for a fact that it isn’t good. Nothing ever good comes from silence at a time like this and I needed to get down to the locker rooms as quick as possible.

Isaac got hit hard up against the boards and fell awkwardly down to the ground, and his right foot looked like it twisted the wrong way. He's had rough collisions before, but never like this. Isaac is a big dude that you surely didn’t want to ending up colliding with, but this time it looked like Isaac got the wrong end of the play. I never in my life ever heard him yell in absolute pain like the wat he was when the trainers and his teammates were trying to help his 6-foot-6 body off of the ice.

My heart was in my stomach as I was racing down the stairs that would lead me to the home locker rooms. I quickly flashed my team badge to the security guard Frank without saying a word. He must have known it wasn’t good either, as he told me to breathe and be careful myself as I jumped down the last few steps.

If Isaac had a season ending injury, it would kill him. He was just heating up and playing his best hockey yet and working his ass off day in and day out so he could eventually make the Flyers roster within this season or even next season for sure. But if his season is over that means his chances of getting to the NHL level could be too and that would just destroy him completely.

As soon as I rounded the corner to the trainer's office, I saw him being helped on to the examine table. His face was as red as a cherry, and he was in a lot of pain. The trainers quickly started icing the area the best that they could as they slowly untied his skate and too it off of him.

“He is definitely going to need some X-Rays done immediately and possibly an MRI as well depending on what the results of the X-Rays are.” The Phantoms trainer Brian Grogesky said to Neil who was one of the Phantoms physicians.

“Jeff and Robert are on their way down from the press box and getting the emergency X-Ray equipment ready. In the mean time you need to relax the best that you can Isaac.” Neil said to Isaac as Isaac tried his best laying down comfortably on the examine table.

Both Brian and Neil noticed me standing outside of the door of the trainer's room and signaled me to come on in, in hopes that Isaac could ease up and relax a little bit more with me by his side.

“Hello, y/n! Looks like we got a live one here and that big boy landed pretty hard on that ankle of his.” Brian said trying to make light of the situation.

Isaac sat up on his elbow and looked me dead in the eyes. I can see and feel the pan behind them, my heart sank even more for him. I just want him to be okay, I want him to be able to play the rest of this season, he worked way too fucking hard for this to happen to him.

“Hey babes, how is the pain?” I said walking over to Isaac and grabbing his hand while kissing him ever so lightly and carefully.

“It's a bitch babe if I am being honest. I’m trying not to think of the worst, but I can’t help it. This isn’t fair, why me? Why fucking me?” Isaac said in more frustration.

“Isaac, don’t get too far ahead of yourself. We don’t know the actual results just yet. But whatever the outcome is you can come back from it stronger than ever. Hockey injuries is sometimes apart of the game as silly and stupid as it sounds, but you’re a fighter and you got this.” Neil said as he placed another bag of ice on Isaac’s ankle.

“They are right babe, your team trainers, physicians and any other doctors have your best interests. Let’s get you into the X-Ray room and then go from there okay big guy.” I said while planting another kiss onto Isaac’s lips.

Jeff brought in some crutches for Isaac to use, so they can take him down the hall to get the X-Rays taking care of. I am hoping that is all that Isaac is going to need and that whatever it is, it's a quick recovery.

After a few short minutes Isaac was crutching back out of the X-Ray room with a look of disappointment on his face.

“Oh no babe...how bad is it?” I asked him while he collects himself.

“It’s not broken...but they are sending me for an MRI early tomorrow morning to see if that shows up with anything and then go from there.” He said in a low tone.

“Well, that is a plus sign that it isn’t broken. You got to be positive about this honey, you need to be optimistic. You can't be negative. Everything is going to work out for the best. Hopefully it's just a minor sprain and you will be back on the ice in no time.” You told Isaac as you wrapped yourself around his side.

All of Isaac’s staff and trainers helped Isaac out of the arena and to his car and safety got him into the passenger seat while, I got into Isaac’s driver's seat.

“Alright, make sure when you get home you put more ice on that ankle for at least 15-20 mins on and then same time off. Do it throughout the night if you can and also, make sure you are using the crutches as much as possible and for the love of God Isaac do not put any pressure on that ankle until after we get the MRI results and see exactly what is going on. We don’t want to make the injury any worse than what it could already be. Try to get some much-needed rest and we will see you in the morning.” Brian said closing the passenger door.

The ride back to Isaac’s apartment complex was extremely quiet. I didn’t know what to say or what to do, so I just let Isaac sit there and pounder in his thoughts alone without me distracting him. Which probably wasn’t a good idea, because I know my boyfriend, I know for a fact that he is thinking the worst possible scenario that he could think of right now.

I helped Isaac out of the car and into the elevators up to his apartment and got him comfortably settled on the couch with his foot/ankle elevated and two ice packs placed on the injured area.

“Do you want or need anything? You want me to bring out another pair of comfy clothes for you?” You asked Isaac as you placed a pillow behind his head/back and placed a blanket right by him as well.

“No, I’m fine...” He whispered as scrolled on his iPad to rewatch the ending of the game and rewatch highlights and the moment of his injury.

You so badly, wanted to say something along the lines to him like "babe don’t be watching that now, it wasn’t your fault, there was nothing that you could have done to prevented that from happening, so on and on.” But deep down you knew nothing would make him feel better until he knew what the main results were. And as the night went on, you could see the realization hit him that this was going to keep him out for a while. He just looked sad, and drained.

After a couple of hours, another X-Ray, and an MRI later, you and Isaac were sitting there waiting in the trainer's office for the results from both the trainer and team doctors.

Both Brian and Jeff walk in with a folder which I assume held the test results for Isaac’s ankle/foot.

“Well, the good news is the second X-Ray that we took this morning once again showed that there was no brake in both the ankle and the foot.” Brian said.

“And what about the MRI? What did the MRI show?” Isaac asked nervously.

I grabbed Isaac’s hand and interlocked his fingers with mine. I could see the look on both Brian’s, Jeff’s, and even Coach Gordon’s face that this news that they are about to give doesn’t seem to be very promising.

Jeff cleared his throat ever so calmly and spoke. “The MRI came back with a high ankle sprain injury which means we really don’t have a timetable for you to return to at this point of time. This type of injury is extremely difficult to recover from quickly. So, with that being said we need to place you on injury reserve indefinitely until we get more of a clear view on this injury.”

“Out indefinitely...so that could mean that I might be done for the season?” Isaac ever so softly spoke.

“Unfortunately, yes Rat...I am so sorry and with it being late into the season already we don’t want to risk anything further and do anymore damage to the ankle. Brian, Jeff and myself all agreed on shutting you down for the remainder of this year. So, it’s better for you to take this time to heal carefully and properly and then eventually rehab it back to full strength without any other necessary tests or worse case scenario surgeries. Then once you have healed properly, we can train and get you back to 100 percent for next year's rookie and training camp.” Coach Scott Gordon said while looking at both Isaac and myself.

My heart broke ever so much for Isaac, this isn’t fair. I know injuries can be a part of the game sometimes, but why did this have to happen to Isaac and why now?! He has been killing it day in and day out since being drafted in 2017. He deserves his chance at playing at the NHL and now with this setback is he ever going to make it to that level?

The ride to Isaac’s apartment was once again a quiet one and this time I don’t blame him. I mean how is he supposed to react to something like this? What is he supposed to say or do when your head coach, trainer and team doctor shut you completely down for God knows how long.

Isaac settled down on the couch and tossed his crutches to side and unstrapped his high ankle boot so he can comfortably rest his ankle on the pillow in front him.

"Baby, I am so fucking sorry that is happening, it’s not right nor is it fair to you." I said, resting my head on his shoulder while getting cozy next to him.

"What if this is it for me? What if I can't play anymore after this?" He asks, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't say that.  You being negative will only make that happen. You are a fighter Rat...you are one tough, strong as hell hockey player who will power through this. I promise you that." I said grabbing his hand and interlocking our fingers together, while placing a kiss on his hand.

A tear rolls down his cheek ever so slightly. "All I wanted to do was be that excitement that both the Lehigh and Philly fans need. All I wanted ever so badly was to have my chance to make it to the NHL level and it got taken away from me. Why do bad things happen to good people?" Isaac asked broken and frustrated.

Once he started crying, I had lost it. Nothing I could do, or say would take that pain away from him and it just broke my heart. I went into the kitchen and I just cried as grabbed him more ice packs from the freezer. How am I supposed to look at the man that I love, and not have my heart shatter like glass when I look into those eyes that were once so shiny, and bright, but now shows nothing at all?  I have no idea the pain he is going through or the frustrating emotions he is now going through as well and I feel terrible.

I eventually collected myself and walked back out into the living room and ever so easily and softly place the ice packs on the injured area and took my seat back on the couch next to Isaac.

"That's the crappy thing about life.” I breathed as I took a deep breathe myself and continued on. “For some reason, it always attacks the good ones, and praises the hell out of the bad ones." I sob, wiping away not only my own tears but also his tears once again. "We'll get through this. I promise. It'll be hard, and it'll be long, but we're going to pull through this." I tell him as I run my hand through his hair.

He squeezes my other hand tightly. "What if during my time out things don’t get better and I need to get surgery, and it's worse than they thought? That could happen. What if they see that my injury is worse than what they thought and that I am out on the shelf even longer and I completely miss this upcoming season as well? Or worse they tell me that I can't do this anymore?" He asks, gasping for air. "I don't want that to happen and I'm scared to death that it will."

I snuggled beside him even more then I already was, resting my head on his chest, sobbing harder than I was before, because I honestly hate when he thinks that he isn’t good enough or he thinks his career is over because of a minor setback or in this case a possible major setback. "Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? Just for now, it's a bump in the road. No journey to greatness is a smooth one Isaac. Whatever the hell happens next, we'll face it together as a team, because I am not leaving your side and letting you fight this injury alone. I know that you so badly want to break and that you feel like this the end of the road, but you need to keep pushing and listen to the training staff and follow their instructions."

"I love you so much." He tells me, sniffling. "Thank you for helping me with this, baby, I couldn’t do this without you" Isaac said while planting a soft and slow kiss on my lips

"I'll help you through anything. No matter what." I said while smiling and kissing him softly back.

It was battle to get Isaac’s ankle back to a healthy, normal, and stable ankle for a hockey player at his height and weight but we were able to do it. It was a long road and journey until Isaac was back out on the ice skating again and preparing himself for this upcoming training camp season.

Isaac looked and felt good, until one day right before the Flyers condensed training camp something didn’t seem right with him.

Isaac met up with Flyers trainer Jim McCrossin and after a deep examination we found out that Isaac was suffering from a fractured rib and a collapsed lung. We don’t know how exactly this had happen or when it happened. It could have been from when he fell during his ankle injury or from being hit during Rookie Camp, we don’t have the answers right now. And once again, here I am watching my boyfriend being completely destroyed and devastated all over again.

Isaac became instantly depressed, and much worst this time around because he knew there was no chance of making the Flyers squad this season and who knew when he could lace up for the Phantoms season as well. But thank God for Jim McCrossin who helped Isaac get the right and special care that he needed and got him completely healthy so he could play for the rest of this Phantoms season as well.

Isaac was getting game day dressed for a home game here in Allentown. I sat on the bed and watched/admire him as he fixes his tie in the mirror.

"Try not to worry about tonight so much baby, you are going to absolutely kill it out there like always. Once you get out on that ice, I have no doubt in my mind you will play just like how you used to before all of these setbacks. And just remember that no matter how easy, or how hard tonight’s game is going to be I'll be here for you always. But also, please promise me one thing, that if you don’t feel right to let your staff know immediately because I never want to see you get hurt like this again.” I said walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his torso.

"I promise babe, I know that I need to take my health more seriously and whatever happens, happens. One day I will make my dream a reality and officially play in the NHL, but for the time being I got to focus on the now and my health." He said as he spun around and kissed me.

Watching Isaac warm up made my heart race and beat fast. But it was all worth seeing him back out there skating with the team and his boys. He looked so good and happy out on the ice and that is all that I could ever ask for.

The journey was extremely hard and long this past summer and fall for both Isaac and I, but in the end it definitely made us a stronger unit in our relationship and it has totally made Isaac a stronger hockey player both physically and mentally.

After the game, I bolted down to the locker room this time excitedly to see my boyfriend, not in a complete shear panic like last time and waited for Isaac to come out after he was done with the media.

The door swung open and I immediately saw Isaac and jumped right into arms like a little high school girl. “Babeee, you were beyond amazing tonight! I am so very proud of you, how are you feeling?” I asked nervously but giddy at the same time.

Isaac picked me up and kissed me ever so passionately before answering any of my questions that I just threw at him. “I felt good and still feel good. It was awesome to be back out on that ice again playing with the boys in front of our home crowd, their excitement and energy helped out a lot. But truthfully, I couldn’t have done any of this without you, y/n. I love you so much and I can’t wait to continue this amazing hockey journey with you right by myside.”

[eastertag]

Easter TAG

@womble1 gift for @janetm74

Blanket  

Precious  

Crown 

It was one of those days, one in/one out, a continuous rotation of Tracys coming and going. Virgil had just made it back from the arctic, scooping up Thunderbird 4 from its own mission on the way home. Scott and Alan glanced up from the desk where they had been conversing with John’s hologram. He should have seen it coming by the way their eyes adopted that concerned crinkling around the edges, really highlighting the similarities between the two of them despite the age gap.

“What?” his gaze danced from one pair of blue eyes to the other, “what’s wrong?” He glanced down at his shirt in case he had buttoned it up wonky or smeared something spectacular down it without noticing. Coming up blank he was back to requesting more info from those present

“Seriously - What?”

Scott stood up from behind the desk, his hands clasped in front of him like a politician about to deliver a tough message. 

“Well don’t take this the wrong way but, well…” he dithered around the sentence as if not quite sure which way to best approach it.

“You look like Shit Virg!” Alan cut in, having no such qualms. 

Virgil pulled his arms across his chest defensively, it was a bit harsh coming from someone who regularly slept in their clothes. 

“Thanks, I love you too, you little scrote!” he scowled across at the brat.

“OK, language. Both of you!” Scott waded into the fray, holding his hands up to placate both parties. “But honestly Virgil, you do look like you could do with a rest.” this just got a derisive shrug and an unintelligible grunt in response. “You look frozen, are you coming down with something?” Scott advanced towards him, stretching out his arm to lay a palm on Virgil’s forehead, but Virgil saw it coming and side stepped away from the advancing hand. 

“I’m fine, it was the arctic, it was cold, big shock, quit pawing at me.” Even as he said it, Virgil knew he was being needlessly snappy, but the damage was done and he saw Alan and Scott exchange a look. 

“Ok, fair point. Alan and I were just on our way out, so why don’t you just take a seat while we go and sort this one out.” Scott was talking slowly, moving in carefully and steering Virgil to a couch like he was a scared animal that might bolt or lash out. “It’s just a little support job for a research station, we’ll be back in no time. Here, have a blanket, I can literally see you shivering.” blanket deployed, Alan and Scott backed away, while Virgil remained scowling on the sofa, muttering about how he was absolutely fine, but tellingly he didn’t move from his loosely constructed blanket nest. He must have zoned out slightly, as the next thing he was aware of was the familiar rumblings of Thunderbird two launching and he hastily pulled up the comms array over the coffee table to give Scott a piece of his mind as Gordon strolled into the room. 

“Scott! You took my bird! What the hell?!” 

“Hello to you too! And I think you’ll find they are all International Rescue vehicles, besides we need the Pods  - and before you start, no, you were not in fit state to fly. Anyway, it’s a perfect chance for Alan to get some more flight hours in’’ as Alan’s face popped up alongside wearing a massive grin.

“Hey Virgil! The research station is in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way I’ll scratch it - I promise!” The little sod was enjoying winding his brother up far too much, they both knew he was a competent pilot, but that wasn’t the point. Virgil huffed and shuffled about a bit, wrapping his arms around himself, maybe he was a little cold but he wasn’t going to admit it. Too late though he had been spotted.

“Seriously Virgil, wrap yourself up, I can see you shivering from here” Scott's worry mode had been engaged, even as he got steadily further away, there was no escaping it. “Gordon keep an eye on him will you, I think he might be coming down with something”

“Sure think Capitano!” Gordon punctuated this with a sloppy little salute as the connection blinked out. “Come on then big guy, let’s get you tucked in nice and snug” he threatened as he advanced with malicious intent. 

“For the last time, I am absolutely fine! But fine, look I’m using the blasted blanket!” he sulkily pulled the blanket tightly around himself until he resembled a giant burrito “Happy now!” he demanded with a scowl. 

“O…..K, I’m going to leave you and your mood to get better acquainted, you want a coffee?” Gordon went to leave in the direction of the kitchen, barely resisting the urge to laugh at the image Virgil was presenting.

“Yes” came the somewhat deflated reply “……please” all the fight evaporating as quickly as Thunderbird ones vapor trails. 

By the time Gordon had navigated Virgil’s needlessly complicated coffee machine and made his way back to the lounge, the blanket burrito had toppled sideways on the sofa and appeared to be asleep. Gordon began to think that maybe Scott was right about the predictions of ill-health on the horizon. He was just wondering if he ought to reposition the blankets a bit since he couldn’t see Virgil’s face and there was a distinct lack of the usual snoring, when a call from Lady Penelope came through on the central display. 

“Ahh Good afternoon Gordon,” came Penelope’s clipped accent 

“Howdie Lady P! What can we do for you today?” Gordon spun around, his blanketed brother instantly forgotten. 

“Oh, it’s nothing urgent today thankfully, I was just……..” she faltered distracted by something “Forgive me Gordon, but I have to ask, what exactly is that behind you?

Gordon spared a brief glance back at the blanket pile that presumably still contained his brother.

“Oh that, Virg is just sulking because Alan took his ride and so he’s proving that he’s not cold…..yeah it makes sense somehow” he petered out.

“Oh I see,” Penelope takes this in her stride as she does all things, “Should it be glowing though Gordon?”

“Glowing?!” he jumps slightly “Oh no, he hasn’t” with no further preamble Gordon dived towards the fleece fortress, tugging at a corner. “Come on Virgil, hand it over, I know you’ve got it in there” He found a gap and plunged his hand inside the fabric, reaching towards the glowing  epicentre.

“Noooooooo, gerroff!” it was muffled, but it was clear that Virgil was not going to give in quietly. “It’s MINE! My precious! You can’t have it!” He wriggled about madly thrashing to try and get away from Gordon, who scrapped as well as any younger sibling in history. 

“Give it up Virg! They’re fine!” the “accidental” application of Gordon’s knee to unmentionable regions resulted in a muffled “ooof” and a sudden reduction in the amount of resistance. Gordon was able to extract his prize and held the remote piloting device up in triumph for Lady Penelope to see.

“He’s always like this when they take Two out without him, he just hovers over the remote controls, adjusting things. Alan thought Two was haunted the first time it happened, I’m not sure he doesn’t still partly believe it still is now.”

Lady Penelope hid a giggle demurely with one hand “Don’t you think you ought to check he’s ok in there, he doesn’t appear to be moving” she asked.

Gordon nudged the immobile lump with his knee “ you’re alright in there aren’t you big guy?” he asked, before sitting himself on top of the blanket mound with all the stately composure of a king ascending to his throne. 

Theres an unintelligible groan before Virgil wriggled enough to free his head from the fabric confines “Stupid Fat Hobbit! Ughhh”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Gordon confirmed, a megawatt smile breaking his regal composure “He’s just banned from any more Lord of the Rings binges.”  Gordon turned to look down at his brother and affectionately ruffled his hair, making it stand out at all angles like a rumpled crown.

At this additional indignity, Virgil put all his remaining energy into a final abrupt wriggle that sent Gordon Toppling from his perch “Get off me pipsqueak!”

“Even the smallest person can change the course of the future!” Gordon proclaimed from his place on the floor just before a cushion was dumped on his head. 

“Have you lost the plot Gordon?!” another pillow was dumped on him to punctuate the remark. 

“Not all those who wander are lost!” could just be heard through the growing pile of cushions 

They both seemed to have forgotten Lady Penelope's holographic presence floating above them. She coughed gently to draw their attention. 

“On that note I think I will leave you both too it, I’ll call back later to speak to Scott,” this drew their eyes away from the developing pillow fight. She cleared her throat delicately once more, gave a little smile and said “Maybe I should quote Frodo Baggins and remind you “It is useless to meet revenge with revenge: it will heal nothing.” before you damage the soft furnishings any further.” and with that parting wisdom her image blinked out of existence.

“Did she just?….” asked Gordon

“Yes, yes I think she did” said Virgil, shaking his head slightly, either in disbelief or despair.

“What a GEEK!” snorted Gordon,  still half-heartedly trying to free himself from the scatter cushion landslide. Then, resigning himself to his current location, he flopped back into the pillows, letting out a happy little sigh. “She really is perfect isn’t she?” Virgil decided the only sensible response to this was to deposit a final cushion onto the top of Gorgon’s head, with enough force to liberate a couple of feathers from its confines. 

By the time Alan and Scott arrived back, with a thankfully scratch free Thunderbird Two, Gordon and Virgil had fallen asleep two films into yet another Lord of the Rings rewatch marathon. Gordon had nested on the floor on a mound of slightly battered looking scatter cushions and Virgil had reinstated the blanket burrito and only his head was free from the blankety confines.

[aion-rsa]

Val Kilmer Documentary Punctures the Actor’s Bad Boy Myth

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Leo Scott and Ting Poo’s new documentary feature, Val, is not a mortality play. It is a rehearsal for an upcoming act. During a tour of his one-man stage show, Citizen Twain, Val Kilmer was diagnosed with throat cancer. The actor underwent two tracheostomies, and now can only speak while covering a tube. The narration of the new film is thus done by his son Jack Kilmer, allowing the pair to share a non-verbal connection throughout the journey, and through time and expression itself. While there are flourishes of humor, the documentary is a serious study of an artist who has always struggled to be understood, told through the selective memory of Kilmer’s POV.

“I’ve wanted to tell a story about acting for a very long time,” Kilmer says toward the beginning of the documentary. “And now that it’s difficult to speak, I want to tell my story more than ever.” Kilmer is an artist, one who takes his vocation very seriously and introspectively. An actor’s voice is more than a tool, it is their primary source of communication. Non-verbal exchanges are important, but dialogue is the primary idea delivery system in staged and filmed works. Surgical procedures have split his throat, shredding the scope of his instrument. In the film, Kilmer is forced to project his story on the empty space between the notes.

Among Kilmer’s many defining roles, the one which appears to ring truest is his encapsulation of Jim Morrison, the poet and lead vocalist of the Doors in Oliver Stone’s 1991 biopic, The Doors. The young Kilmer is shown onstage in a small club, lost in the music, awaiting his cue to become one with the mic. Moments in Kilmer’s personal history, like how the actor was tagged with a “difficult” label, are consigned to rests. The most overt reference to Kilmer’s “bad boy” reputation comes from Robert Downey Jr., who smashes the notoriety to bits in a moment of impromptu dismissal.

There is no gossip here. There is no discussion of A-list-bad behavior. Kilmer sees it all as artistic license.  He was searching for honesty, he remembers. Choices like lying on top of a mattress filled with ice in order to feel a real pain during his last scene with Kurt Russell in Tombstone come across as perfectly valid. Kilmer is still bitter over spending four months learning to play guitar for Top Secret!, and his first note informs him the director thinks he looks funnier faking it. There is little evidence of unprofessionalism, only growing pains.

The bulk of Val comes from clips of 8mm home video footage Kilmer has been shooting most of his life. “I’ve kept everything, and it’s been sitting in boxes for years,” Kilmer informs us. The archive was intended to tell a story about “where you end and the acting begins.” We are gifted with moon shots of both Kevin Bacon and Sean Penn, which have nothing to do with the films Apollo 13 or The First.

Early self-directed screen tests provoke a series of what-ifs. A tortuous encapsulation of a Juilliard acting class is a lesson in what-nots. Val’s hand-held approach to The Island of Dr. Moreau is a highlight. The actor respectfully rocks his co-star and idol, Marlon Brando, on a hammock they both wish was strung to John Frankenheimer. Please turn off the camera, the film’s replacement director demands. But Kilmer only hits pause when it’s time to rehearse.

The behind-the-scenes camcorder footage from sets of Top Gun, Tombstone, and The Doors are treasure troves in themselves, and possibly underused. Most of the audience will be very interested in the candid youth and truth recorded over his career. Val uses the archival clips and unearthed b-roll to establish a chronology.

Many videos were made at home in Los Angeles with Kilmer’s younger brother Wesley, who had an epileptic seizure and drowned at age 15. His death casts a mournful pall following the news that Val was the youngest applicant ever accepted as a drama student at Juilliard. Kilmer calls his brother “an artistic genius,” and one of the most revealing things to come out of the documentary is how often Kilmer used this brother’s art to augment the backgrounds of the sets he is living through on film.

Seeing how Stone speaks about Kilmer now makes me wonder if Val would have been able to put in the same performances in his movies if he knew it at the time. In his audition tapes for Full Metal Jacket and Goodfellas, we see an actor who needs to be taken seriously. He flies 6,000 miles to hand deliver his tape to Stanley Kubrick in London.

While he makes no comment, footage reveals Kilmer’s favorite Batman was played by Adam West. “Every boy wants to be Batman,” we hear, and see the Caped Crusader in every era of Kilmer’s life. A short, animated film he and his brother made with what looks like crayon is a Batman spoof. He still glories in the moment he got deposited behind the classic TV series’ iconic wheels as a youngster visiting the lot. It appears Kilmer still can’t pass a grocery store Batmobile without feeding it quarters. He wears the classic blue Halloween ensemble expecting tricks and treats as a kid, and as a daddy with his kids.

Don’t expect to see Kilmer wearing his cinematic puffed rubber suit at home, and it’s not because he left it at the dry cleaners. Footage old and new, homemade or professionally recorded, presents the Batsuit as an albatross. Heavy rests the cowl. He has to be lifted from chairs, deposited on marks, and his only identifying feature on the set of Batman Forever is a chin and bottom lip. Anyone could have been behind the mask, and the human superhero envied the subhuman villains. Kilmer comes across as quite happy Jim Carrey and Tommy Lee Jones are able to create fully formed performance art in their portrayals. But he wanted to play with those toys.

“Batman Forever,” Kilmer laments, “whatever boyish excitement I had going in was crushed by the reality of the Batsuit. I realized it was just my job to show up and stand where they told me.” As the captured past footage is juxtaposed with modern sequences, we get an unfiltered glimpse of how little this has changed. The sequence of Kilmer at the Comic-Con autograph booth is wrenching. He initially didn’t want to take the part of Iceman in Top Gun because he felt it glorified the military. So many fans ask him to sign “You can be my wingman” on their souvenirs. It turns his stomach. He throws up in a garbage can and wheeled through hallways with a blanket over his head. Trouper that he is, he returns to the booth to finish out the signatures.

Kilmer blurred himself into the role of Mark Twain. There is a beautiful sequence where the actor walks through town to the beach, in full stage makeup, dressed in the signature white suit and long mustache of his character. It is extremely telling when Kilmer tells the camera it’s hard enough writing a good screenplay, much less a great one, which itself doesn’t even match what he feels he needs to bring to a script of a film version of Citizen Twain. Kilmer sold his ranch in New Mexico to finance the project. The documentary only captures some of the frustrations.

Most of the anecdotes are guarded, and all the admissions are part of a subjective narrative. Kilmer’s arc has rough edges, these tales are too smooth, and leave little room for impressionistic interpretation. Kilmer met his former wife, Joanne Whalley, when she was starring in a West End play directed by Danny Boyle, but he didn’t approach her.

“She was brilliant, and I was in town making fluff,” Kilmer concedes. It’s all about the art, even appearances. The documentary hints that Kilmer’s dedication to character did the most damage to their relationship. Wearing the same pair of leather pants for nine months could almost be on the books as probable cause for divorce in Hollywood.

Similarly, Kilmer’s Christian Science upbringing is brought up, and dropped. There is a loving but ambiguous undertone to Kilmer’s relationship with his once-rich-and-powerful father, who put his son in debt after trying to become a southern California land tycoon. But a sequence on his Swedish mother which juxtaposes a car ride he took with her when he was a child with one of being driven to her funeral speaks volumes without words.

Val is about the next step. “What’s past is prologue” William Shakespeare wrote in The Tempest. Kilmer pondered the “too, too solid flesh” while rehearsing Hamlet, and the documentary opens after the actor faced his own mortality. Kilmer swears he feels better than he sounds and, while he finds little to regret in his memories, he expects less in the ones he has yet to create.

Val can be seen on Amazon Prime Video.

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The post Val Kilmer Documentary Punctures the Actor’s Bad Boy Myth appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2VvZ2lA

[tsarisfanfiction]

The Only Course of Action

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort Characters: John, Scott

John’s job is to watch and listen, but sometimes he’s also the last resort.

Another @badthingshappenbingo this time with the square “Cradling Someone in Their Arms” - featuring a non-Virgil brother (as requested by @melmac78​).

I’m still taking prompts for non-Scott TAG characters for the other squares!  I have at least one character per prompt for most of them now, but I’m always up for adding more (sometimes it’s that addition that gives me the spark I need!)

John was fully trained in the field, just like his brothers.  He had to be – flexibility was a necessity in a small organisation like theirs.  Like Alan, he specialised in space rescues, working in zero-g where one wrong movement, one accidental snare could kill him and the people he was trying to rescue in seconds, but he’d scraped up a respectable enough level of experience of Earth-based rescues, too.

That didn’t mean he ever felt as comfortable on them.  Experience was the greatest teacher of all, and when it came to experience in the field, he ranked below even Alan now.  Really, that shouldn’t matter.  His primary role wasn’t Earth-based rescues.  Those weren’t even his secondary role – space rescues took that honour, for when Alan needed a little bit of backup or the rescue was close and simple enough to Thunderbird Five that a little trip EVA would sort it.

No, John’s role in International Rescue was to watch and listen.  Calls came in and he answered them, reassuring distressed, anonymous voices (not so anonymous, he remembered the names and faces of everyone who ever called) that help was on the way as he mobilised his brothers.  Scott was commander, but John was dispatch – an arrangement that worked for both of them.  Scott was impulsive, too impulsive to make the cold calls on which rescues to attend and which rescues were a lost cause.  His elder brother knew that he didn’t mobilise them for every call that came through, of course, but John never gave him the details of the rescues they didn’t do and Scott never asked.

It wasn’t just the victims he watched and heard.  He watched over his siblings every time they launched, locating potential issues and sorting them out before those on site fell afoul of them, and most of the time, that was enough.

Sometimes, it wasn’t.

Alan was on an asteroid mine with Kayo, helping a panicked crew repair their life support while Thunderbird Three supported them in the meantime.  Thunderbird Two was in the Peruvian alps with Virgil and Gordon on board, assisting with a mudslide that had buried a village.  Scott and Thunderbird One should have been with them, but another call had come in from the Himalayas – a small party had found themselves stranded on the peak of a mountain – and John had diverted his eldest brother to help them instead.  The plan was for Scott to pick up the party, take them to safety, then go to assist Thunderbird Two with the long slog the mudslide would be.

John hated it when things didn’t go to plan.

“Scott!” he called, the direct line to his brother’s comm open.  “Thunderbird One, are you receiving me?”

He wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t panicking at all. Panic was unnecessary, a hinderance in his role that he’d long since mastered.  Except he was, because Scott was alone, approximately halfway down Malaku, and had suddenly stopped responding after letting out a single cry.

“The line!”

His altitude had dropped sharply, there had been a heart-stopping crunch from Scott’s end, and now there was nothing, no matter how much John tried to rouse a response. The comm channel was still open – John could hear slow, too slow, shallow, breathing – but that just made it worse. It was one thing being cut off by technology; it was another entirely to know he was getting through but still hearing no answer.

Thunderbird Two was almost as far away as it was possible to be, over on the other side of the world. Even at top speed, leaving immediately, it would take Virgil and Gordon two and a half hours to get there, but they still had their own rescue to complete – a long slog of a mudslide that would keep them tied up for at least another hour, if not longer.  Alan and Kayo were even further away, time and distance wise, and likewise were tied up where they were until they finished the repairs.  Between the two rescues, there were over a thousand lives at risk.

John wanted to say Scott was worth those lives, but that was the scared little brother in him talking. One life, no matter who it was, was not worth a thousand, and such a selfish act from International Rescue would jeopardise everything they’d worked for.  None of his brothers would ever forgive him, Scott least of all.

He should contact the GDF, call in one of the many favours he had hoarded from Colonel Casey to get them moving, or even Lady Penelope and Parker, but the latter were in England and FAB1 would take too long, and the GDF – even with Colonel Casey on their side – couldn’t mobilise without a pile of paperwork and other red tape.  They, too, would take hours.

It was, at minimum, two hours before anyone could realistically get to Scott and the party he’d been trying to save.

Scott’s suit telemetry told him two hours was too long.  His heartbeat was too fast, his temperature too low, and red lights were flashing up all over the place, highlighting irreparable damage to the flight suit itself. He couldn’t get the full picture from it, but he could get enough to know that Scott needed medical attention urgently, and was highly unlikely to regain consciousness.

John’s role was to work as dispatch, surveying the availability of all personnel at his disposal and highlighting the most efficient solution from the options they had.  Thunderbird Two was, at minimum, three and a half hours away from being able to assist.  Thunderbird Three, ten.  FAB1, seven. The GDF, depending on the speed of their bureaucracy, two.  None of those were good enough.

Thunderbird Five, nine minutes to reposition, fifteen to descend.  Twenty-five minutes total response time, accounting for the time it would take to enter and exit the space elevator.

Acceptable.

“EOS,” he said, already moving for the controls to move his Thunderbird.  “I need you to take over space monitor duty.”

“Of course, John,” the AI agreed – her existence was a blessing; with two other rescues as well, one of which requiring constant monitoring, without her there was no way John would have been able to leave Thunderbird Five.  “How would you like me to address the authorities?”

“Use my face.”  They shouldn’t do that – it was dangerous, and Scott had forbidden her from ever impersonating him again – but it was better than letting her existence slip out to the wider world.

“Should I inform your brothers about the situation?” she asked, and John thought for barely a moment.

“Once they’re finished with their rescues,” he said.  “Or if they ask.”  They didn’t need the distraction.

“I understand.”

Strictly speaking, John should apply for permission to move his Thunderbird.  There were many other satellites also in geostationary orbit, mostly GDF, and the shift from Tracy Island to Malaku was reasonably substantial.

There was no time for that. He’d pull strings later to deal with the fallout once Scott was safe.  Thunderbird Five’s thrusters engaged.

He spent the nine minutes familiarising himself with the layout of the immediate area, memorising Thunderbird One’s current position, the location of the party, and his brother’s suit telemetry, before equipping himself with everything he’d need for the descent and whatever he’d find down there.  Helmet, with a full supply of oxygen.  Grapple lines, as many as he could carry.  Emergency first aid kit, Earth-rescue version.

All the while, he stayed on the line with Scott, trying to get some reaction from his brother and wishing he could ignore the ever more alarming readouts from his suit.

He continued to stay on the line as Thunderbird Five’s braking manoeuvres completed and he charged into the space elevator, instructing EOS to lower it as fast as possible.  The AI being Scott’s firm ally on anything regarding safety, it wasn’t much faster than his usual descents, but it was enough to cut a minute off of the predicted fifteen minutes as it latched onto a crag on the side of the mountain and the doors opened – only after some overrides, because it wasn’t designed to let him out anywhere that wasn’t deemed ‘safe’.  He was glad Brains had agreed to those as he fired a grapple at the cliff wall above him, another safety line latching him on the space elevator itself for added security, and let gravity take hold of him.

EOS had homed in on Scott’s location signal when she’d lowered him, meaning that the crumpled blue figure was barely twenty feet below and to the left.  Even for John, less experienced on Earth-rescues and general enemy of gravity, it was a simple enough feat to swing down onto the ledge where his brother lay.

Scott’s helmet was smashed open like an egg – one of Grandma’s eggs, where the shell went everywhere, rather than being neatly split in two.  Instantly, John could see that that had saved his life, although with the air thin, it had deprived him of valuable oxygen in return.  Blood stained the snow and protruding rocks.  Head wounds always bled a lot, and as John crouched down by his brother he could see that this was another case of it looking worse than it really was.

That scale, of course, was subjective.  There was still a large gash running along his temple and down his jaw, and a slight depression in the skull when John lightly probed through blood-matted hair with his gloved fingers.  None of that was remotely good, but Scott wasn’t dead, and John clung to that knowledge as he continued his assessment, pulling out the medical scanner.  He wasn’t Virgil, couldn’t diagnose injuries without the assistance of technology, but he was here and Virgil was the other side of the world, potentially still oblivious to what had happened.

Scott’s left arm was bent at several wrong angles, and even John didn’t need the scanner to tell him that there were multiple breaks.  His clavicle had also snapped, but mercifully his spine and neck were undamaged, according to the scanner.  His left leg had also broken – clean breaks to the tibia and fibula – but otherwise the flight suit had done its job well.

“Scott?” he called, scavenging a splint from his supplies to immobilise the arm and leg before he cautiously rolled his brother over, pulling him into his arms.  Blood from the gash had drenched the right side of his face and it was with trembling fingers that John wielded antiseptic to clear it away.  “Scott, wake up.”

It was an exercise in futility; Scott was well past regaining consciousness.  His body was limp against John’s chest, across his knees, and they needed to move.

“EOS, remote pilot Thunderbird One to my location.”

She didn’t respond, but the roar of the VTOL was answer enough, Scott’s beloved Thunderbird soaring into view. There wasn’t room for her on the crag John and Scott were on, but the fast response craft was small and nimble enough to land on a larger area, about a hundred yards away.

“Is that close enough?” the AI asked him.  “There is no closer landing location, but there is the option of leaving Thunderbird One in a hover closer to your location.”

John looked at the terrain separating them.  It was rough, but not unsurmountable.  Dealing with a Thunderbird One in mid-air, where the wind could gust around and dislodge her at any moment, was ill advised in comparison.

“That’s perfect, thank you, EOS,” he assured her.  A twist and he released the line still clipping him to the space elevator, looming above him but fundamentally useless at this point.  “Retract the space elevator and return to regular geostationary orbit before the GDF notice we moved.”

“F.A.B.”  The thrusters on the bottom of the elevator engaged, and John hunched over his brother as the clamps released their grip on the crag and the entire thing lifted up and away.  Now he had to get moving.

First priority: get Scott to Thunderbird One and finish administering emergency treatment.

Second priority: pick up the stranded group, thereby completing the rescue.

Third priority…  “EOS, find me a hospital for head trauma.”

“Yes, John.”

Third priority: get Scott and any other injured people to professional treatment as quickly as possible.

It was a simple plan, but the first hurdle was undoubtably crossing a hundred yards of craggy and snow-covered mountain with an unconscious brother to reach Thunderbird One and relative safety.  The route didn’t look too difficult, although the snow added an additional level of complication – Tracy Island had a wonderfully craggy volcano they’d all trained on, but snow just didn’t exist there.

Transporting Scott across the distance was the main complication.  None of his injuries would be exacerbated by being moved, but he was still tall and muscular – and John was straight out of orbit.  Still, there was no real choice and John was a Tracy, just like the rest of them.  Giving up wasn’t in his vocabulary, not in any language, so with gritted teeth he slipped out from underneath Scott’s limp body and repositioned himself so that he could slide his arms beneath Scott’s shoulders and thighs.

A grunt of effort escaped him as he straightened, staggering backwards under the weight and colliding with the mountain behind him before he managed to find his balance.  A trickle of snow slid down to land beside him, dislodged by the contact, and he froze, ears searching for any sound of further movement.  Larger, heavier movement, whether it be boulders or snow.

There was none, and he dared to breathe a sigh of relief before looking down at Scott and readjusting him as best he could so that his head was cushioned against his shoulder rather than lolling limply, enslaved to gravity.

His head was still bleeding, fresh blood spilling over where John had cleaned the wound once already, and that was more than enough incentive for him to take a careful step forwards, staggering a little to keep his balance under the combined challenges of Scott’s weight and gravity, followed by another, and another. Hurrying wouldn’t do him any good at all; the terrain was treacherous and he’d proven several times at home that he could trip over his own feet if he wasn’t paying enough attention.  Falling, dropping Scott, would be disastrous, so he ignored the instincts screaming that he had to hurry, that they were in danger, that Scott needed attention urgently, and took his time.

His line to Scott was, somehow, still open, his brother’s slow, shallow breathing providing both background noise and something to focus on.  As long as he was breathing, he was alive.  John’s grip on his brother tightened, pulling him in as close as he dared as he kept his slow, staggering pace towards the silver Thunderbird.

With the possible exception of Thunderbirds Four and Shadow, Thunderbird One was the Thunderbird John had spent the least amount of time in.  Thunderbird Five was his home, and Thunderbird Three was often boarded for rescues, while Thunderbird Two was his ride whenever he did go out on an Earth-rescue, but Thunderbird One?  That was all Scott’s, all speed and responsiveness.  John was none of those things, had never cared for going fast or joyriding like his big brother did.

But for all that he hated gravity, he was surprisingly at home with acceleration – most likely because that was a necessary requirement to get into space in the first place – so in that regard, Thunderbird One didn’t phase him at all.  Therefore, it was with less trepidation about handling his brother’s Thunderbird and more concern about his brother himself that he staggered his way up the boarding ladder and called up a jump seat to situate his still-limp big brother in.

The jump seats weren’t designed for comfort, or indeed anything other than short hops when Thunderbird One had to take a passenger, but they did at least have additional straps that the pilot seat didn’t.  The Thunderbird couldn’t carry injured like Thunderbirds Two through Four did, with room for a stretcher and the full medical kit to go with it, but she did still have the basics.

Enough straps to keep the patient immobile, a rebreather to supply oxygen, and equipment for some field stitches to temporarily close wounds until the professionals – or Virgil – got at them.

Time was still vital, not just for Scott but for the party still in need of pickup, so John had to work quickly, mopping away the blood from the gash and cleaning it to make sure nothing had got in the wound before stitching it up and placing a large gauze over it.

Scott still didn’t respond, slack in the seat, and John swallowed once, allowing himself that one weakness, before he settled himself in the pilot seat and carefully brought them up into the air.  Contrary to popular belief amongst his brothers, he did frequently train on the sims – or at least, their Thunderbird Five equivalent – and while holographic controls didn’t feel like the real thing, Thunderbird One responded to him contentedly enough.

Scott’s plan had been to remote pilot Thunderbird One above the mountain while he himself grappled his way to the party to assist them in boarding.  John knew that he couldn’t do that – this rescue was not going to be as flawlessly smooth as perhaps the stranded people were hoping – so he was left with the slightly cruder option of taking Thunderbird One high up, until he was above the mountain, and lowering the cargo net.

Technically the cargo net wasn’t for humans, but there was nothing else in Thunderbird One’s arsenal that he could confidently use in the situation.  He wasn’t Scott – or Alan, or any of his brothers with their Earth-rescue experience – but he was a problem solver.  It was a bonus that none of the hikers complained about the unorthodox nature of their rescue – and that none of them were injured, just cold from the exposure to the elements for too long.  Some foil blankets, warm drinks, and reassuring words (easier done from space, but John just pretended they were holograms and not living, breathing warm bodies until the stutter vanished) and he was back in the pilot seat, glancing back worriedly at Scott before punching the fastest Earth-Thunderbird in the fleet towards the local hospital.

They were expecting him, thanks to EOS, although there was some minor confusion when they believed it was him they’d been talking to and John scrambled to pretend he knew what their conversation with EOS-as-John had entailed while the AI filtered a recording through his helmet.  The hikers disembarked under their own steam, being dragged inside by the kind doctors for assessment, but it fell on John to get Scott out.

It was easier to pick him up the second time around.  Thunderbird One was a far more stable place to be than halfway down a mountain, so John had less to worry about with his balance or feet, and Scott being in a chair made him much easier to slip his arms under him and lift him up.  He held him close, grip almost possessively tight as he carefully made his way down the boarding steps.

No longer wearing his helmet, Scott’s breathing wasn’t a steady sound in his ear.  Instead he focused on the sensation of breath tickling his jaw from where Scott’s head rested in the crook of his neck and the rise and fall of his chest promising that he was still alive.  A large part of John was reluctant to let go again, his hold lingering as he gently set Scott down on the offered stretcher; not because he didn’t trust the doctors to help Scott, but because letting go meant being left blind.

Normally when a brother was hospitalised, John was up on Thunderbird Five, obtaining access to the hospital’s cameras, systems, and keeping track of everything to do with his brother until visitors were permitted – at which point he either came down, if it was serious, or metaphorically handed over watch-duty to his family on Earth and began working out what had gone wrong and how to make sure it didn’t happen again.

John wasn’t on Thunderbird Five this time.  John was in Nepal, watching his brother being hurried into the building, away from him, knowing that there would be no more news for him for some time.  EOS was amazing, but John had always done that bit himself, and with her still handling two other rescues, hacking into a hospital would not be on her priorities.

Scott was taken inside, and John was left standing alone underneath his brother’s Thunderbird, unsure. What was the procedure now?  What did his brothers do when they were left alone, unable to follow?  Did he stay with the Thunderbird until someone else arrived, or did he go in and sit in the waiting room, closer but still too far away?

His comm sparked to life. “John!”  Virgil.  Worried Virgil.  This was something he could handle.  John took a breath and answered.

“Receiving you, Virgil.”

“EOS just told us about Scott,” his brother started, confirming John’s suspicions.  “What’s his condition?”

“His left arm, collarbone and leg are broken,” John reported, feeling some twisted comfort in being able to fall back on facts.  “He’s also suffered a head injury.  The hospital staff have just taken him in for treatment.”

“Conscious?” Virgil demanded, and John shook his head.  The worry on the holographic face deepened, frown lines clearly visible.  “Gordon and I are clearing up here.  We’ll be with you as soon as we can.”

“F.A.B.”  Two and a half hours until they arrived.  Two and a half hours of not knowing, of waiting in silence with nothing to distract him.

His glove was red. Scott’s blood.  He swallowed.

He definitely wouldn’t get any information waiting out by Thunderbird One.  Slowly, he walked out from under her shadow, bringing up the remote controls to lock her down and hearing the robotic hiss of the boarding ladder retreating before the cargo bay doors swung shut with a barely-there clunk.  Satisfied that the Thunderbird, at least, was dealt with, he strode towards the main door of the hospital.

IR blue was a language all on its own.  He didn’t even need to dredge up what little Nepali he knew without the help of a translator to explain why he was there or hope they spoke a mutual language.  As soon as they saw him, he was ushered through into what was clearly a waiting area, complete with a machine that no doubt served bad coffee.  John declined a drink before settling down in a corner, away from the doors but where he could see the entirety of the room, to wait.

Inactivity did not suit John at all.  While his suit had the most technological capabilities out of all of them, it didn’t lend itself to some of the less authorised access he liked to obtain, and even if he could, hacking into the hospital while he was in it was just begging to be caught, no matter how good he was.  Likewise, most of what he could do was based on the secret side of IR they didn’t let the public see, and even taking back mission control from EOS was inadvisable, leaving him with nothing to do but sit still and try not to stare at the blood on his glove.

In a way, he was glad that his younger brothers weren’t with him.  While he wasn’t Scott, didn’t distract himself from inner turmoil by big brothering anyone he could, especially his own younger brothers, there was still a mild compulsion to put on a brave face for them, reassure them that things weren’t as bad as things seemed.  On the other hand, if they were there, he wouldn’t be alone.

He didn’t even have his phone.  He didn’t need it on Thunderbird Five, his Thunderbird linked in to everything without the need for something that needed frequent charging and didn’t like a lack of gravity. No phone, no tablet, just the limitations of his uniform-based comm and blood on his glove.

He should probably wash that off.  Realistically, he knew there wouldn’t be any news yet; it took time to reset bones, never mind the brain scan and whatever would need to be done from that.  The maximum five minutes it would take him to locate a bathroom and clean his glove would not run any risk of him missing some vitally important news.

John didn’t move.

He was still there, staring at the blood, when the roaring engine that could only be Thunderbird Two came into earshot.  Virgil tore into the room a few minutes later, Gordon hot on his heels, and suddenly he was bracketed by younger brothers.  Neither touched him, but something warm settled in his chest.

Not alone.  He wasn’t alone anymore.

“No news?” Gordon asked, his voice telling John he already knew the answer.

“Not yet,” he confirmed. Gordon slumped, amber eyes flicking around the room as if hoping news would miraculously appear.

“Your glove,” Virgil said. He spoke quietly, his worry for Scott bleeding through, but his intent was clear.  John balled the hand into a fist.  “We’ll let you know if we hear anything.”

It was a clear demand, but it was what John needed to move, dragging himself to his feet and belatedly feeling the drag of gravity and his too-rushed descent.  His hip hit a table and he stumbled, but Virgil was there, holding him up.

“You okay by yourself?” Gordon asked, openly concerned.

No.  “I’ll manage.”

He made his way out of the room, hand trailing along the wall for stability, following the signs to the nearest men’s bathroom and sagging against the sink.  His reflection looked back at him in the mirror, gaunt and pale.  Nothing particularly unusual, considering his lifestyle.  A lack of both sun and regular sleep, on top of his naturally pale complexion, frequently left him looking sickly.  His brothers were reluctantly used to it.  John didn’t spend much time in front of a mirror.

Tearing his eyes away from his reflection, he slowly put his glove under the faucet, letting the water gush out as his movement was detected.  It quickly ran red, picking up Scott’s blood and swirling it away, down the drain.  He watched it, not interrupting, for a minute before beginning to rub away where it had dried and clung to the ridges in his uniform.  Only once it was clean did he stop, holding it out under the dryer to blast away the molecules of water clinging to it in the blood’s place.

News took another hour to arrive.  By then, Virgil had poured himself a cup of the coffee, making a face but drinking it nonetheless, while John had played it safer with a teabag and hot water for a passable drink.  Penelope wouldn’t have agreed, but John needed the caffeine.  Gordon had stuck with water, and seemed to have the cup in his hands mostly to have something to occupy them with.  The water was long since drunk, and the cup had been methodically torn to pieces.

“International Rescue?” The doctor’s English was halting but understandable.  He was looking at John, presumably recognising him as the one to bring Scott in.

“How is he?” he asked, pulling himself to his feet.  The doctor frowned at him in concern and he remembered the pale, gaunt face in the mirror. No doubt a point of concern for a medical professional.  To John’s relief, he refrained from commenting.

“He will be fine.” Beside him, he heard Gordon sigh in relief, both his younger brothers sagging in his periphery.  “We have set all the broken bones.  The cut is stitched and his skull repaired.  You can see him now.”

John knew better than to expect to see Scott awake, so he wasn’t disappointed to find his brother still unconscious when he was led into the room.  Behind him, Virgil made a beeline for the medical information stored at the end of the bed, but John left him to it, instead approaching his brother.

A large chunk of his hair had been shaved off, which John knew his brother wasn’t going to be happy about, and what remained stuck out oddly from the bandages, giving Scott a dishevelled look.  Stitches and gauze – no longer John’s field treatment, but professional grade – covered the gash down his face, while his arm and leg were wrapped in cast.

Somehow, he looked worse now than he had done on the mountain.  John wasn’t tactile, not like his brothers, but he found himself reaching out for Scott’s uninjured shoulder.  As he made contact, an arm snaked around his own shoulders.  Startled, he looked sideways to see Gordon, a small smile on his face.

“He’ll be fine,” Virgil said from his other side, and John glanced across at him before returning his attention to Scott, motionless on the bed.  “The brain scans all came up clear.  Once he regains consciousness it’ll be safe to take him home, and then you won’t be able to escape fast enough.”

Virgil wasn’t wrong; John much preferred to tackle a grounded Scott from the safety of space, where he could mute him when he got too annoying.

That was in the future, once Scott was awake and John was fed up of his complaining.  Right now, John was where he needed to be – by his brother’s side.

[knifeonmars]

Capsule Reviews, February 2021

Here's some things I've been reading.

The Curse of Brimstone 

DC's New Age of Heroes books, emerging from the beginning of Scott Snyder's creative-flameout-as-crossover-event Metal, mostly constituted riffs on Marvel heroes like the Fantastic Four (in The Terrifics) or the Hulk (in Damage). The Curse of Brimstone is a riff on Ghost Rider. It's... uneven. The first volume is generally pretty good, and when Phillip Tan is drawing it, as he does the first three and a half issues, it's gorgeous and unique, when he departs though, the quality takes a nose dive. None of the replacement artists, including the great Denis Cowan, can quite fill his shoes, and the story gets old fast. Guy makes a deal with the devil (or rather, a devil-like inhabitant of the "Dark Multiverse" as a not horribly handled tie-in to the conceits of Metal), realizes it's a raw deal, and rebels. The characters are flat, lots of time is spent with the main character's sister haranguing him to not use his powers (it is, in my humble opinion, something of a cardinal sin to have a character whose primary role is telling other characters to stop doing interesting things), too many potboiler "I know you're still in there!/I can feel this power consuming me!" exchanges, a couple of underwhelming guest spots (including a genuinely pointless appearance by the old, white, boring Doctor Fate) too many flashbacks, and not enough of the action. There's potential in the classic demonic hero rebelling plotline and its link to the liminal spaces of the DC universe, forgotten towns and economic depression, but the wheels come off this series pretty much as soon as Tan leaves. The really disappointing this is that the series is clearly built as an artistic showcase, so after Tan's shockingly early departure, the main appeal of the series is gone and there's nothing left but the playing out of an obviously threadbare story.

Star Wars - Boba Fett: Death, Lies, and Treachery

I don't care much about Star Wars these days, and I think that most of the old Expanded Universe was, as evidenced by Crimson Empire, pretty bad. Death, Lies, and Treachery, is that rare Star Wars EU comic which is actually good. John Wagner writes and he's in full-on 2000 AD mode, writing Boba Fett as a slightly more unpleasant Johnny Alpha (who is like a mercenary Judge Dredd, for those unfamiliar) right on down to the appearance of a funny alien sidekick for one of the characters. The main attraction is Cam Kennedy's art though, along with his inimitable colors: this might be the best looking Star Wars comic ever. The designs are all weird and chunky, with an almost kitbashed feeling that captures the lived in aesthetic of classic Star Wars, and the colors are one of a kind. Natural, neutral white light does not exist in this comic, everything is always bathed at all times in lurid greens or yellows, occasionally reds, and it looks incredible. In terms of "Expanded Universe" material for Star Wars, this hits the sweet spot of looking and feeling of a piece, but exploring the edges of the concept with a unique voice. It's great. I read this digitally, but I'd consider it a must-buy in print if I ever get the chance at a deal.

Zaroff

Zaroff is a French comic (novel? novella?). It's like 90 pages and it delivers exactly on its premise of "Die Hard starring the bad guy from The Most Dangerous Game." It's pretty good. Count Zaroff, he of the habitual hunting of humans, turns out to have killed a mafia don at some point, and after miraculously escaping his own seeming death at the end of the original story, finds himself hunted by the irate associates of this gangster, who have brought along Zaroff's sister and her kids to spice things up. Zaroff not only finds himself the hunt, but he also has to protect his estranged family as they struggle to survive. Nothing about this book or its twists and turns is likely to surprise you, but I don't think being surprised is always necessary for quality. Zaroff delivers on pulpy, early-20th century jungle action, is gorgeously rendered, and the fact that Zaroff himself is an unrepentant villain adds just enough of an unexpected element to the proceedings and character dynamics that it doesn't feel rote. There's a couple of points, ones typical of Eurocomics, which spark a slight sour note, such as some "period appropriate" racism and flashes of the male gaze, but for the most part these are relatively contained. It's good.

Batman: Gothic

Long before Grant Morrison did their Bat-epic, they wrote Batman: Gothic, an entirely different, but then again maybe not so different, kind of thing. It starts off with what must be called a riff on Fritz Lang's film, M, only where that story ends with a crew of gangsters deciding they cannot pass moral judgment on a deranged child-murderer, in Morrison's story they go ahead and kill him, only for the killer to return years later to rather horribly murder all of them as a warmup for a grandiose scheme involving unleashing a weaponized form of the bubonic plague on Gotham City as an offering to Satan. Along the way it turns out that said villain, one Mr. Whisper, is a former schoolmaster of Bruce Wayne's, who terrified the young Batman in the days before his parent's deaths. It's an earlier Morrison story and it shows. Certain elements presage their later Batman work; Mr. Whisper as a satanic enemy recalls the later Doctor Hurt, and the cathedral Mr. Whisper built to harvest souls recalls what writers like Morrison, Milligan, and Snyder would do concerning Gotham as a whole years later.The art, by Klaus Janson, is spectacular. If you're familiar at all with his work collaborating with Frank Miller you'll see him continuing in a similar vein and it's all quite good, even when he stretches beyond the street milieu which most readers might know him from. There's one particular sequence where Janson renders a needlessly complicated Rube Goldberg machine in motion that manages to work despite being static images. The writing by Morrison though, is not their finest. The M riff doesn't last as long as it could, and Mr. Whisper's turn in the latter half of the story from delicious creepy wraith to a cackling mass murderer who puts Batman in an easily escaped death trap feels like something of a letdown from the promise of the first half of the book. Gothic is good, but not, in my opinion, great. It's certainly worth checking out for Morrison fans however, and I imagine that someone well-versed in his latter Batman stuff might be able to find some real resonance between the two.

Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters

For a long, long time, Longbow Hunters was THE Green Arrow story. It is to Green Arrow as TDKR is to Batman, deliberately so. Mike Grell wrote and drew the reinvention of the character from his role as the Justice League's resident limousine liberal to a gritty urban vigilante operating in Seattle over the course of these three issues, which he'd follow up with a subsequent ongoing. Going back to it, it certainly merits its reputation, but its far from timeless. Grell's art is unimpeachable absolutely incredible, with great splashes and spreads, subtle colors, and really great figure work. The narrative is almost so 80's it hurts though, revolving around West Coast serial killers, cocaine, the CIA and the Iran-Contra scandal, and the Yakuza, and it's hard to look back at some of this stuff without smirking. The story begins with a teenager strung out on tainted coke sprinting through a window in a scene that's right out of Reefer Madness. In the cold light of a day 30+ years later, parts of it look more than a little silly. The 80's-ness of it all doesn't stop with that stuff though, even the superhero elements smack of it. Green Arrow realizes that he's lost a step and has be to be shown a way forward by an Asian woman skilled in the martial arts (recalling Vic Sage's reinvention in the pages of The Question), and Black Canary gets captured and torture off-panel for the sake of showing that this is real crime now, not the superhero silliness they've dealt with before. The treatment of Black Canary here is pretty markedly heinous, it's a classic fridging and Grell's claims that he didn't intentionally imply sexual assault in his depiction of her torture is probably true, but still feels more than a little weak considering how he chose to render it.The final analysis is that this book is good, but it exists strictly in the frame of the 1980's. If you're a fan of Green Arrow, there are worse books to pick up, or if you're interested in that era of DC Comics it's more than worth it, but as a matter of general interest I wouldn't recommend it very highly.

SHIELD by Steranko

Jim Steranko is sort of the prodigy of the early Marvel years, a young guy who came up through the system, blossomed into an incredible talent, and then left the company, and by and large the industry, behind. He would go on to dabble in publishing, work in other mediums, and generally kick around as the prodigal son of Marvel Comics. This collection, of both his Nick Fury shorts in the pages of Strange Tales and the four issues he drew of the original Nick Fury solo series, charts Steranko's growth as an artist. The book starts off with Steranko working from Jack Kirby's layouts with Stan Lee's dialogue and writing, and Steranko might be the one guy in history for whom working off of Kirby's blueprints is clearly holding him back. The first third or so of this collection really isn't much to write home about, as Steranko is obviously constrained by someone else's style, and at the end of the day those early stories still read as somewhat uninspired pulp compared to the highlights of early Marvel. There are flashes though, of techniques and ideas, which foreshadow what Steranko is capable of, and when he finally takes over as solo writer/artist it's like he's been unleashed. He immediately has Nick Fury tear off his shirt and start throwing guys around over psychedelic effects. He writes out most of Kirby and Lee's frankly uninspired boys' club supporting cast, he makes Fury visibly older, wearier, but also so much cooler. It's the birth of Nick Fury as a distinctly comic book super spy.By the time he finishes wrapping up the previous writers' plotline with Hydra and Baron von Strucker, Steranko is firing on all cylinders. By the time it gets to Steranko's Fury solo series, he's somehow surpassed himself, turning in effects, panel structures, and weird stories which make the earlier installment about a suit-wearing Man from UNCLE knockoff and its strict six-panel layouts look absolutely fossilized.I can't recommend this collection highly enough for any fan of the artform, even if the stories themselves might not be everyone's cup of tear. It's truly incredible to watch Steranko emerge as an artist over the course of this single collection. The book itself has a few problems, it's not the most elegantly designed in its supporting materials and index, but the content of it more than outweighs that. It's great stuff.

[gumnut-logic]

Suits

I woke up with this scene in my head this morning and this fic is the result. It appears to be little more than a mood piece and it rambles, not really going anywhere, but it is an answer to Scott’s FabFiveFeb challenge with the prompt “What do you mean?”

As with most of my fics at the moment - SPOILERS FOR 3.25 & 3.26.

Thank you to @scribbles97​ for the cheering on and the readthrough. And apologies to @onereyofstarlight​ I kinda built on your turf :D Hope I got all my references right :D

Don’t expect too much and I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

Scott straightened his tie. The soft blue silk had a calm sheen to it. Virgil, ever the colour coordinator, had given it to him last birthday and basically demanded he wear it with this suit.

Who was Scott to disagree with a practising artist? A tie was a tie, but he had to admit the blue did something to highlight his eyes. He understood that much.

Shoulders straight, he found himself brushing non-existent lint off his lapels.

Pulling his hand away, he had to admit he was nervous and the soft grey fabric was little more than a shield between him and the world.

He was standing in his room in their house in Parnell, Auckland. Through the window of his bedroom the volcanic island of Rangitoto sat in a still and grey early morning sea.

A cruise ship was entering Waitemata Harbour, the floating hotel, a slow-moving behemoth.

It echoed how he felt stuck here.

But he was a Tracy and there were necessary things that had to be done. He turned toward the door and grabbed his wallet and keys. He had left Commander Tracy in the hands of Virgil for a couple of days. His younger brother’s thoughts on that were, as always, dutiful but reluctant. One of these days Virgil would realise just how good a commander he actually was and stop fretting every time Scott left the Island for a few days.

Gordon’s eyes had sparkled.

Scott snorted to himself. The aquanaut was as much Virgil’s second as Virgil was Scott’s. Gordon would have his brother’s back.

Even while hoisting Virgil’s underwear up the flagpole.

The smile that crept onto his face at the thought of his brothers did a lot to straighten out his thoughts.

Today was necessary, but there was always tomorrow to look forward to.

He sighed and strode into the corridor and down the stairs. “Dad, you ready?”

He found his father in the living room. The man’s back was ramrod straight, his dark grey suit sharp and professional.

The pink tie was an…interesting accent.

Grey eyes caught his staring at the silk wrapped around his collar. “Alan gave it to me.”

Scott frowned and took a step closer. “Are those…flamingos?”

“Yes, they were your mother’s favourite.” The tie was a solid candy pink, but embossed in stitches in the material were small flamingos. Elegant rather than gaudy.

His dad was still tense as bowstring, which was understandable considering what they were doing today. “You look great, Dad.”

The shift in his father’s stance was subtle, but the release of tension was enough. “Thank you.” His eyes appraised Scott. “You’ve made a good choice yourself.”

Scott shrugged. “Virgil knows how to bully.”

His dad snorted. “You, too, huh?”

“Yeah.” It was said with fondness. But onto business. “Ready?”

“Lead the way.”

The car was out the front waiting as the two men strode out the front door, Scott grabbing his briefcase as they left.

It was a short drive into the CBD and one of the reasons why they had purchased the house in Parnell many years ago. Some would say it was indulgent. Scott considered it necessary for appearances.

After all, if he was going to make the board travel all the way out here, he had to have the presence to make it happen.

A couple of years after his father’s disappearance Scott had moved Tracy Industries HQ to Auckland. His reasoning was clear. Aotearoa was International Rescue’s closest neighbour. The economic landscape worked to their business advantage and IR had an arrangement with the government that allowed fast deployment of the Thunderbirds if necessary.

And it was a simple power move. Making the rest of the world come to them spoke of confidence and strength.

His father had stared at him when he told him of the financial situation Tracy Industries was currently in. Those grey eyes had widened.

“We’re worth how much?”

Scott shifted where he stood. “It was a family effort, Dad.”

And it truly had been. While Scott acted as President, John had flexed his genius and played the stockmarket in his spare time. Both Brains and Virgil patented some core new technologies, Gordon expanded their ecological interests and Alan, still in high school, had helped to launch their high-tech simulator experiences.

Scott didn’t mention the merchandise. He avoided the merchandise.

But it all came together and where Tracy Industries was worth billions when his father disappeared, after an initial stumble and drop, it had recovered once the world realised that Scott Tracy was no pushover and was now greater than it had ever been. More diverse, more powerful, just more.

Scott had sat his father down and gone through the portfolio.

“We’re in aquaculture?”

“Gordon’s coup. He funded a small time ecologically safe project enough to get it off the ground. Now we are the major supplier of several marine crops for both food and medicinal purposes.”

His Dad frowned.

“It’s strength in diversity, Dad. The sum of all supports the all.”

Those eyes pinned him. “I taught you that line.”

Scott’s lips curled. “I know.”

And now the day had come where the current President had to re-introduce the former President to the board.

The buildings slipped by as the car darted through the city. The day was grey without being cold, but it was far from the tropics he was used to. People walked the streets, traffic lights passed them by. An ambulance tore through going in the opposite direction and Scott found himself stretching to peer out the back window to see where it was going, automatically running locations through his head, his hand halfway to his lapel to call Thunderbird Five before he stopped himself.

But nothing was said in the back of the car. His father was quiet and gazed out the opposite window. Scott knew this must be hard for him, but it had to be done.

“Are you sure, Dad?” They had discussed it late one evening out on the balcony.

“I’m sure, son. It is time.”

“You don’t have to do it now, you can wait longer if you need it.”

“Do you have reservations?” His voice was quiet.

“No! I’m just worried you’re hurrying it, that’s all.”

Still quiet. “No.” His father looked out towards the horizon. “It’s time.”

But still as the car pulled up in front of the tower of glass that served as their headquarters, Scott had to admit to himself, he had his reservations.

His father had had so many challenges to face on his return. His health was the worst. The long-term damage from years in space was unavoidable. The lack of a healthy diet was almost as bad. There were months of painful rehabilitation with sorely needed respite on Five. John had been his father’s constant companion. Gordon had stepped in as his coach.

The day Scott found Gordon in tears in his bedroom would always be engraved in his memory. His little brother had just simply overflowed. The skin and bone of their father, his pain, the scars, it had all managed to chip away even Gordon’s strength. Scott ended up holding the man as he cried on his shoulder.

Scott’s eyes were far from dry.

Virgil found them there sometime later and from that point on things had changed.

International Rescue took second place for a while after that.

They still went out, but sometimes they just had to defer. Dad needed them.

Of course, their father knew nothing of the sort. The brothers fed him the information they needed to. Scott didn’t keep him in the dark, but he didn’t need to know what he didn’t need to know. The brothers had been managing IR for a long time. They did what they had to do.

Scott kept Tracy Industries and IR moving, John stayed with their father while Eos acted in his place, Virgil, Gordon and Alan divided their time between Dad and International Rescue.

Grandma moved to Auckland to look after her son.

It was a challenging year.

But Dad was back on Earth and despite the pain, they still rejoiced.

The driver opened his door and Scott was forced by propriety to climb out of the car.

His father followed.

Scott watched him look up and up.

And up.

The building was truly an architectural triumph. The tallest structure in Auckland, it was an elegant sculpture spun from ribbons of glass and greenery. It said success and it shouted it to all who saw it. Iconic and a tourist attraction it was known the world over as Tracy Tower.

“Spared no expense.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Impressive.”

“That’s the idea.” But eyes were staring in their direction. His father’s presence today had been kept quiet, but with the media in everyone’s back pocket, it wouldn’t take long for the world to realise that Jeff Tracy was making his inaugural visit to Tracy Tower. “C’mon, Dad. They’ll be waiting for us.”

“For you.”

“Yeah, well, the moment they see you, I’ll just be part of the furniture.” He shot a small smile at his father.

The smile was reflected in those grey eyes. “Then lead on.”

The doors opened for them and they strode through into the grand foyer. Scott surreptitiously watched his father as he encountered the sheer opulence of the massive entrance. When Scott had first seen the plans for the building, his eyes had nearly fallen out of his head. It was over-the-top and just screamed ‘rich and we want to show it’ that he had stormed into the architects and given them a piece of his mind.

Fortunately, Virgil and Gordon had been with him at the time and reined him in because the lead architect had looked at him calmly before pulling up a hologram of the plans and going through each key point Scott had neglected to read.

The three rescues the day and night before might have had something to do with it.

The building was an ecological masterpiece. All the art served a purpose. It had no carbon footprint. Under the glass were solar cells that generated enough electricity to power the building itself, plus half the CBD beside it. Woven into the structure were gardens that served as havens for the workers in the building and for the wildlife around it. Aotearoa was the land of birds and the Tower supported as many as was practical.

Gordon had literally been bouncing at the time.

But the foyer was what Virgil had fallen in love with. At its centre stood a holographic sculpture generating image and music from the movement around it. Where people bustled past, the artwork collected the movement and interpreted it as light and sound.

A play of colours and piano notes danced around the room. Strategically placed glass reflected and bounced it further.

“Virgil?”

Scott snorted. “You could say that. Once he saw the designs, I couldn’t keep him away from them. They are considerably different from what was originally conceived.” He shrugged. “I like to think he improved it.” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory of his usually calm brother gesticulating enthusiastically while outlining concepts and possibilities.

Scott waved at the sculpture and, even a dozen or so metres away, it waved back and sung a soft chime.

“You boys have definitely made your mark.”

A slight frown and he turned to his father. “We only built on your work, Dad. None of this was possible without you.”

His father straightened. “It is quite an achievement.”

A shrug. “It’s useful. It does what it needs to do.” He turned to reception and showed his ID. The young man smiled and ducked his head slightly. “Welcome, Mr Tracy.” Scott grinned at the security officer.

His father held out his ID, newly minted and shiny.

Scott hid a smile as the young security guard’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Mister Tracy?!” There weren’t enough capital letters in the English language to appropriately punctuate those two words.

“Yes, son, that’s my name. And yours is?”

“Uh, Cameron, sir.”

“Nice to meet you, Cameron. Have you worked here long?

“Uh, just over eighteen months, sir.”

“Are you enjoying the work?”

“Yes, sir. Scott, er, Mr Tracy has been very kind.”

Scott couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, well, you’ve done an excellent job, Cameron.”

“Thank you, sir. The board are waiting in the Observatory.”

“FAB.”

Cameron’s grin was worth the small breach in protocol.

His father raised an eyebrow at Scott as they walked towards the elevator. “There’s a story there, isn’t there?”

“Yep. Had to pull Cameron out of Shackleton Nuclear Facility.”

His father stopped him in his tracks. “You went in there? That place is quarantined.”

Scott shrugged. “We do what we have to do. Cameron survived because of us. It is a success story, Dad.”

Those eyes held his a moment longer. “I’d be interested in seeing the reports.”

“They are available whenever you want to see them, Dad. I’ve told you that.” In fact, it had worried Scott that his father hadn’t jumped into the mission reports almost immediately. It as if he was reluctant to look into what he had missed.

It was understandable, but it was a concern nonetheless.

The elevator arrived as they approached and another security guard waved them in.

It didn’t take very long to get to the top of the building and the doors opened into the light an airy space that was the Observatory.

This was Virgil’s ode to John.

The engineer and artist had seen the plans for the rooftop space and immediately made suggestions. Scott wasn’t sure if you could stargaze in the middle of the city, but Virgil and the architects certainly did their best to make it appear as if you could.

The massive function area consisted of a glass enclosure that was the apex or the building. At night, lights shone on the glass in perfect constellations for the southern hemisphere. Even Scott was impressed.

During the day, the glass mosaicked shadows on the floor tiles that created those same constellations in lines.

Virgil hadn’t been the designer, but he had poked the team until they came up with this. To be honest, it was Scott’s favourite place for a board meeting.

It kept him close to the sky.

Gardens wove around the centre of the structure and when the meetings broke, there was plenty of fresh air and greenery to breathe in.

Today it was as grey as the ocean in the distance. Rangitoto Island defied the grey with its green volcanic cone.

The cruise ship had made dock.

Scott straightened his shoulders and stepped out of the elevator.

Immediately, every eye in the room turned and targeted him.

A moment later, every single eye slipped off him and landed on his father as he stepped out behind him.

“Mister Tracy!”

The name fell from the lips of Janine, Scott’s secretary who was there ready to take minutes.

“Well, are you just going to stand there or come in and take a seat?”

Scott couldn’t help but smile. “Captain Taylor.” A nod of greeting. “How was your trip from Mars?”

“Oh, Albert was excellent as always.”

Scott snorted as behind the astronaut, Alan, dressed neatly in a suit, rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Virgil, dressed in a grey almost as dark as his hair, emerged from the crowd, his eyes bright. “Hey, Dad, Scott.” He held out his hand to his father. “Welcome to Tracy Industries, Mister Tracy.” And yes, there was an amused smirk on his brother’s face.

Their Dad took Virgil’s hand, puzzlement on his face. “Virgil, what are you doing here? I thought you had command?”

The engineer tilted his head a little. “Well, sir, this is a full board meeting. Two is not far away, we can move fast enough. I can guarantee it.” There it was, the leader that was his younger brother even if the man didn’t see it himself.

“But at the moment, all of us are required to be here.” A flash of red hair and John stepped up from behind them. His suit a deep blue grey paired with his signature turquoise tie.

“What do you mean?”

Gordon appeared beside John, his smart pinstripe suit looking almost alien on the aquanaut…until you looked closer and realised there were purple octopuses on his tie and he was wearing sandals.

Scott rolled his eyes. He gave up. Gordon was never going to conform. It made him want to throttle him for it and yet love him even more.

“Jeff, dear.” A slim hand slipped around Gordon’s arm and Lady Penelope, all blonde and pink perfection, smiled up at his father. “You have to realise that your sons are all on the Tracy Industries board. Along with myself and Captain Taylor, of course.

His father spun to stare at Scott.

He just shrugged. “It’s a family business, Dad.”

Alan stepped forward. “Aunt Val sends her apologies. She is caught up in the States.”

His Dad was still staring at him. “But what about all those board member portfolios you shared with me?”

Scott tilted his head just a little. “They are board members, Dad. But so are we. We don’t have the luxury of be available for all meetings, but we do what we can. The quorum manage and keep us apprised.”

Lips thinned. “So why didn’t you tell me?”

Scott let out a breath. “Dad, if you knew we were all on the board, would it have affected your decision?”

Those eyes held his, but Scott could see the concern behind the grey. He knew this had been a very hard decision for his father and had wanted to support him in any way possible. It had been John who suggested they keep the family out of the equation, to hopefully put less stress on their father.

Mister Tracy frowned. “I guess we will never know.”

Scott didn’t smile, but he let a little hope flare at that statement. “Shall we call the meeting to order?”

A single nod from his father. Scott waved his brothers to their seats at the broad conference table to one side of the room. The non-family members of the board only had eyes for the elder Tracy.

Virgil slipped in next to Scott. Whispered. “FAB?” How’s Dad?

Equally quiet. “FAB.” Okay, but the same. They had both been worried that this was too soon, but Their father was as stubborn as the rest of them and wanted to do it now.

Virgil sat to his right as he always did, John to his left. Gordon slid over one with Alan and their father sat next to Virgil.

Scott didn’t sit down, but stood standing at the head of the table, a good twenty people staring at him…when they weren’t darting glances at his father.

A bird landed on the glass far above, its feet clattering against the surface.

“Thank you all for your attendance today for this special meeting of the Tracy Industries International Board.” He drew in a breath. “As the first item of business, I would like to announce my resignation as President.”

Several members gasped out loud. Janine let out a high-pitched squeak. A ‘no’ was whispered from the back of the room. Scott held up a hand and a respectful silence fell. “I don’t do this lightly and it is not for personal reasons, but for the betterment of Tracy Industries.” He straightened his shoulders. “I move to nominate my father, Jeff Tracy, to return to his rightful position as President of this company. Do I have a second?”

Six hands shot into the air.

The rest of the room sat in stunned silence.

“It will be noted that the motion was passed and that the board will vote, pending any additional nominations as per the constitution.”

The silence was profound.

The bird on the roof chattered to itself.

Scott caught his father’s eye and smiled.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[newmusickarl]

Although many music publications have already revealed their 2020 Albums of the Year, a wave of stunning new releases this week has shown that it is always best to wait till the last minute before drawing any conclusions. From surprise sequels to one a decade in the making, here is everything worth checking out this week…

Album recommendations

Dave Jakes by Dave Jakes

Enigmatic former Lonely The Brave frontman Dave Jakes finally released his debut EP this week, having proceeded it with a couple of soaring singles in Caterwaul and opener Been In My Dream. If this self-titled is a glimpse of what to expect from Jakes’ solo material then fans can expect the same bruising, heartfelt songwriting and stirring vocals that made Lonely The Brave’s earlier material so special.

From the string-drenched majesty of Silhouettes, the emotional gut-punch of Diggy’s Pushing Holes to the beauty and splendour of the EP’s curtain call, Be The Apple, Jakes’ talents shine through the melancholic, emotive arrangements on show. Having now reintroduced himself to the world, here’s hoping a full-length debut album is up next.

Evermore by Taylor Swift

Having not been a fan before, one of the biggest surprises for me this year was just how much I enjoyed Taylor Swift’s folklore. The record saw the superstar team up with The National’s Aaron Dessner over the Spring lockdown to create some of her most honest and acclaimed work to date. However not one to rest on her laurels, Taylor has (pun intended) swiftly returned with folklore’s sister record, Evermore, for her second Album of the Year contender of 2020.

Once again teaming up with Aaron Dessner, as well as his brother Bryce who’s on orchestration duties on several tracks here, Taylor builds on the foundations laid by the collaborative partnership on folklore to sound even more assured in this new found style. If folklore was her dipping her toe into the indie-folk world, Evermore is her effortlessly backstroking in it.

From the festive lament of ‘tis the damn season, the stripped-back minimalism of happiness to stunning piano ballad tolerate it, it is clear this collection is some of the best songs Swift has ever written. She continues to thrive in this collaborative working too, with the HAIM sisters showing up for country-folk, murder mystery no body, no crime, whilst Dessner calls in the rest of The National for the album’s undisputed highlight, coney island. Having joined Swift on folklore for one of the songs of the year, Exile, Justin Vernon also returns once again to lend his vocals to the record’s closing title-track.

All in all this is another faultless album from Swift, and one of the welcome surprises of 2020 has been her converting me into a fan of her music – here’s hoping for more releases like this in the future please.

Man on the Moon III: The Chosen by Kid Cudi

From one sequel to another, however this one could not be more different. Whereas Swift waited just a few months to release the follow-up to folklore, pioneer of modern hip-hop Kid Cudi has spent the last decade building towards the third part in his Man on the Moon trilogy. Having paved the way for some of today’s biggest rap stars such as Travis Scott with his first two records, Man on the Moo#n III ultimately brings with it a weight of expectation. With this being the case, MOTM3 can’t help but feel like somewhat of a disappointment as Cudi comes across as the follower this time around rather than the innovator.

That said despite being a somewhat patchy collection, what this album does deliver is plenty of enjoyable moments that are some of the best of Cudi’s career. From the Scott Pilgrim-sampling, infectious beat of She Knows This, the spacey, mesmeric groove of Damaged to the hypnotic ambience and defiant lyrics of Mr. Solo Dolo III, Cudi forges immersive sounds you just want to wash over you. Towards the home stretch of the record, MOTM3 finally starts to hit its stride with The Void offering up the album’s standout moment, before being shortly followed by excellent collaborations with Phoebe Bridgers and Trippie Redd. The record finally draws to a close with Lord I Know stating that things are to be continued, suggesting this isn’t the last chapter in Cudi’s MOTM story.

So although this won’t make any year-end best of lists, Cudi adds a worthy addition into his MOTM series with another highly enjoyable album which is probably still the best of the three so far.

We Will Always Love You by The Avalanches

Also worth checking out, Australian electronic outfit The Avalanches are joined by a host of special guests including Johnny Marr, MGMT, Blood Orange, River Cuomo, Karen O and many more for their latest odyssey into psychedelic indie-dance. Although the record can be quite self-indulgent at times, there are plenty of highpoints, none more so than one of the tracks of the year so far, Neneh Cherry and Jamie XX collab Wherever You Go.

This story is dedicated to all those cyberpunks… by Grimes

And finally to coincide with the release of Cyberpunk 2077, one of the most highly anticipated games of the year, Grimes has released a DJ mix album from the perspective of her character in the game. Blending her own music with segments of electronica, dance remixes and mash-ups of classic tracks by Britney Spears, Rihanna, The Ramones, Tatu and Kendrick Lamar to name but a few, listening to this mixtape is a trippy and immensely fun way to kill an hour.

Tracks of the Week

Atmosphere by James Blake

Already one of the most beautiful tracks of all time, here James Blake’s haunting vocals and stripped back production help Ian Curtis’ lyrics on this Joy Division classic to somehow transcend to even higher heights. Simply incredible.

Savior Complex by Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers wraps up her breakout year in style, collaborating with Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Paul Mescal on this wonderfully shot, tongue-in-cheek video for one of the standouts from her incredible Punisher album – you can check it out above.

[theofficefantasyfootball]

WEEK 2 - Wrap Up

Love Hurts!

Well guys.  This week in our league the #1 and #2 draft picks went down.  Saquon Barkley is out for the season and McCaffrey is out 4-6 weeks (which really means 8 weeks)  And even then we all know he won’t really be the same CMC - he’s damaged goods.  Guys like Scott and Brett are probably in a real sad place right now.  Dealing with the loss of their most beloved players and also dealing with a loss for the week.  It’s a lot to take in so if you have time to reach out and let them know you are thinking of them I know that they will appreciate it.  Hang in there guys - there are only 11 more week until playoffs and I believe you will be able to find great replacements for these players that consistently put up 20-30 points each week!

BOOMER SOONER vs TREE HUGGER

I didn’t think we would be here, I really didn’t.  I am just being honest.  Stu Jones is 2-0.  He took down Scott Krippayne (Tree Huggers)  this week - who as mentioned above lost Barkley early in the game and also was without Kittle this week.  Rough, rough, rough. 

Stu sat Edelman, Fournette and Goff but it didn’t matter -  because he was still able to put up 114 points to give him the win. 

Listen, it’s early...and this week proved to all of us that you never know what is around the corner for your star players and you have to accept that.  But, Stu being undefeated has given me some pause - I mean, can he keep it up when he faces the FUNK GUY in week 3?  Scott, I am sure you don’t care about 1 stupid loss...plus your Seahawks took care of business - you will be fine right?   There’s always a silver lining - remember that!

LONG LEFT BALLERS vs FUNK GUY

Wow!  What a...battle these two had...huh!?!?!  Talk about a disappointing day for Bebo to put up 139.44 points and lose?  Right?  Yikes!  Dana, who earlier this week was texting me that his team sucks - managed to put up nearly 170 points to take down Bebo and become the champion of this match up.  Just a rock hard win for Dana.  Highlights?  You want highlights?  Sure - how about Aaron Jones with 46, Mahomes with 31, Mike Evans with 21 and Jonnu Smith with 20.  Pretty damn good.  Bebo, sorry man...that’s a tough loss.   All you can do is make adjustments, keep working it and move on from this rough start.  Bebo moved to 0-2 and Dana to 1-1.  Great win Dana.

MR. AWESOME vs TuPADRE

Everyone knows that Andy and Gabe are the best of friends so fantasy footaball is not really a competition thing between the two of them.  I know in my heart that is the case, especially with Gabe recovering in the hospital still - but I have to admit that I have been secretly hoping that Gabe will pull out a few wins these first few weeks just so when he is able to re-engage he isn’t totally out  for the season.  But, TuPadre - just like Brett Rutledge last week - went a head and took advantage of the match up and grabbed a win. 

In all seriousness - I want to let everyone know that Gabe continues to improve.  It is going to be a long process but we are all hoping he will return fully and remind us all why he is named Mr. Awesome. 

Gully moves to 1-1...Gabe to 0-2 but I feel a win coming on when he faces the Moose in week 3.

U SUCK vs TRADE WITH ME

What a crazy wonderful surprise to beat Brett Rutledge in week 2!  I have to be honest - knowing that I was going up against Tom Brady, (I was sure would be out to prove something after losing in week 1), CMC, Kelce and kind of expecting Adrian Peterson to get more than he actually did...I thought it was going to be a blood bath.  Especially after Elliott and Dak started out with a pair of fumbles to send me into negative digits right away...but it all worked out in the end.  I had a good Dallas Cowboys offensive attack as they spent the entire game trying to come back from the dead and a few 58 yard kicks from Butker and that’s all it really took!  Thanks Brett for not ruining my Sunday and allowing me to get a win!  Sorry about CMC.  He was solid and even played through the hurt for me last week but it just must not be your year.  At least you have a lot of RB’s on your bench to rotate in!

LANAKILA vs BACKDOOR BANDITS

Ole Kyle had a little hiccup this week in his quest to win another championship.  I guess what I am trying to say as nice as I can is that the backdoor bandits took one up the ass.  He lost. 

Kyle has been playing a lot of golf lately....he is even building a small compound on a swanky golf course in Little Rock.  This gif reminded me of him this week....so close to pulling it off and then just like that - it’s all over. 

Lanakila needed a win.  Sure, we can all say things like, “it’s a long season” or “it’s early, so much can happen” but no one wants to be without a win.  And Cliff is now 1-1 and primed to keep moving up.  Both of these guys escaped the week without any major injuries or players out for the season...so expect them both to keep competitive in the next few weeks.

MOOSE ON THE LOOSE vs HOWARD

If there is anything i know about the Moose it’s how he loves to have his games come down to Monday Night.  He LOVES the excitement.   And heading into this one - Rob was up 5 points and all left to play were Josh Jacobs (Moose) and Jared Cook  (Howard). 

Overall the game was a good one - with the Saints taking an early lead and the Raiders coming back to tie at the half.  Then in the 3rd quarter the Raiders took a big lead.  Rob held the lead but every now and then the Moose would be in position to take over the lead...like Jacobs trying 3 times on the 1 and not getting in...stuff like that. 

With 5 min left the Moose was still down 3.62 points.  When they Raiders got the ball back - they were just trying to kill clock so they were running it with Jacobs.  Mitch was desperately texting me “FEED HIM!!!” but after the possession leading into the two kin warning he was still down 1.92 and they were now handing off to Booker and Richard.  I just envision Mitch going crazy!  Why not Jacobs he was probably saying....

I heard nothing from Rob.  He’s a 3 time champion...he knows what he’s doing...steady, solid...sure of himself. 

As the clock worked it’s way to 1:07 the Raiders lined up for a field goal to try and close out the game - from 54 yards - it was good!  No way the Raiders need to take the field again - so Josh Jacobs night is over...and so is the Moose.

Good win Howard.  Man you are good at this fantasy football thing!

SURVIVOR

Everyone moves on...couple of close games with the Titans and the Chiefs but everyone that was still alive - will get another chance in week 3.

HIGH POINT WINNER

So, this weeks high point winner is Dana Cappillino with 169.38 points.  A few of you made female option suggestions for the High Point Image Prize and Dana suggested ju Gal Gadot (Wonder Woman).  I am not going to constantly go with suggestions but I looked over his suggestion and from my research it looks like Gal is an athlete after all so she does qualify.  I do take this seriously and will not allow non-athletic women into the club.  Congrats Dana.  $20 win...and Gal Gadot

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: Joker

The Joker is ubiquitous in pop culture, possibly second only to his nemesis. If there is a Batman-adjacent project, the Joker will show up at some point, and often be the most memorable element. That’s held true for portrayals by Cesar Romero, Mark Hamill, Jack Nicholson and Heath Ledger. Joaquin Phoenix’s turn in the role takes a different tack and makes the villain the central character. It does not make him the hero, and that is an important distinction. Todd Phillips’ film walks a thin line between exploration of the character and adoration of him, and manages to stay upright.

There will, of course, be debate about that, a thing which in and of itself speaks to the unique creature the film is: can you imagine walking out of Avengers and debating anything other than which moments were the most fan-pleasing? I did that after Endgame, and was, on a superficial level, satisfied. Joker is aiming for a more cerebral level. There were times I could see the point and times I could not. That alone is noteworthy. I can’t imagine feeling philosophically conflicted about most superhero films. Is it possible I am giving it bonus credit simply for having thoughts in a typically thoughtless genre? Entirely possible.

One thing I noted is that when the credits roll, Phoenix is not credited as the Joker, but as Arthur Fleck. Fleck is a clown-for-hire who dreams of being a stand-up comedian, but keeps the lights on, barely, for himself and his mother by spinning sale signs or cheering up sick children. We meet him as he is mugged by a group of teenagers for no reason; they break the sign he is twirling, and his boss insists he stole it. His life is a series of such incidents, a pattern of trusting the world will do the right thing and finding it won’t. You sense that, deep down, he knows this. He reacts to each new disappointment not with shock or anger but with simple, resigned acceptance.

His life is one of quiet drudgery leading inevitably to a pauper’s grave, and it is dominated by his mother, played by Frances Conroy, who I have personally not seen since she was owning the brilliant Six Feet Under. We meet her here as a defeated old woman, gazing lovingly at TV interviews being given by Mayoral candidate Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen) whose attitude toward the poor is derived from the real-world remarks of many right-wing politicians mixed with the savior-ism of the left. She worked for him, years ago, and is convinced he will answer her letters and lift her and her son out of poverty. This is one of several places where the film breaks with society’s stereotypes of the down-and-out: Fleck lives with his mother and does his best to care for her despite his own limitations, and the situation is not seen as especially pathetic. Another is that Fleck is regularly single, but being unlucky in love isn’t a significant contribution to his transformation; a brief relationship with a single mother (Zazie Beets) ends sadly but is not greatly important to his fall.

That transformation is played out slowly, and there’s no one moment that allows us to go “A-ha! This is it!” He discovers things about his true parentage, and then discovers there may be even more secrets to those secrets. He learns his mother may not be all there, and is keeping things from him. A moment is needed to highlight Conroy, who must shift her persona a couple of times during the film. We’ve all likely known an older woman who is oddly obsessed with something she’s seen on television; it has become a cliche, and most cliches have some basis in fact. Conroy feels sympathetic, and yet when we learn she may be unstable and possibly abusive, we also believe it; there is more than one person in her.

The film’s world views are not what Outrage Culture decided ahead of time that they would be. Prior to the film’s release, there were those who watched the trailer and decided it was glorifying sexist societal outcasts and the acts of violence they sometimes carry out. If you go into the movie expecting it to be that, you can probably find evidence of it. For myself, I don’t subscribe to the notion of deciding what a film I have not seen is and is not. I’ve seen it now, and as with almost every film that addresses mental illness in any way, there are things it does well and things it does less well. The slow transmutation of a simple sad sack into a mad anarchist is movie-plausible, if not real-life-plausible. Phillips and co-writer Scott Silver use some convenient shortcuts to let us know how close to the line Arthur is. He’s on seven medications and asks for more; more crazy, of course, requires more pills. He is gaunt and skeletal, with Phoenix losing a lot of weight for the role, to the point where his joints seem misplaced; another shorthand, as you rarely see a character who is both mentally ill and has any meat on their bones. There’s still a basic idea that external forces are needed to produce a real breakdown; the idea it can just simply happen, due to imagined events or to nothing at all, is simply too opaque for a visual medium to capture. The drama concerning Fleck’s parentage veers just this side of soap opera, but rights itself in the end. This is set against a backdrop of economic unrest, and the eventual furor the Joker stirs up resembles Occupy Wall Street on steroids.

What the film gets right is the way most people who end up suffering from a damaged mind get that way not because of one bad day---the cause Joker famously attributes his origin to in Alan Moore’s classic graphic novel The Killing Joke---but because of the slow accumulation of wounds that by themselves would not be serious, or would not be serious to someone with a different brain. The most tone-deaf criticism I have heard is that the things that happen to Fleck are not realistic; that they are contrived simply to make him sympathetic. If someone believes that people are not casually cruel for no reason, I would venture to say they have lived a charmed life. As someone who has spent time in both retail wars and the vastly overhyped halls of many a Comic Convention, I didn’t find anything people did to Fleck to be beyond belief. Robert De Niro plays a late night host who mocks Fleck’s botched attempt at stand-up to score cheap laughs of his own, and that of course is found everywhere. It is, for instance, easy to write a negative review by personally attacking the people involved. The film is not denying that some people are just horrible. Rather, it is saying that maybe, just maybe, the casual cruelty and anger that is so easy to find doesn’t help. We are also, of course, not meant to sympathize with the path Fleck takes, but to recognize that when people are monstrous, they create monsters.

There are criticisms that can be leveled at Joker, and since this is a positive review, I obviously disagree with most of them. Yet one stands out: the idea that the movie glorifies a murderer. There are ample movies and TV shows picturing the common fantasy of not taking it anymore, in which good guys kill anyone and everyone who looks at them funny while obliterating huge parts of the world around them. People die at the hands of heroes for doing their jobs on the regular, and how many innocent bystanders do so when Iron Man rips through downtown New York? Those movies reduce such sequences to cartoons, so we may go away satisfied and empty-headed. The greatest perspective trick movies often pull is not any camera wizardry, but in convincing us that psychopathic mass murderers are heroes. Will Joker start a new wave in film of Watchmen-like introspection on the reality of worlds full of colorful people with powers? Certainly not; we like our candy too much. Yet I will continue to dream of a Batman film in which the question asked is not why Joker kills, but why Batman keeps letting him escape to do it.

Verdict: Recommended

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

 You can follow Ryan's reviews on Facebook here:

https://www.facebook.com/ryanmeftmovies/

 Or his tweets here:

https://twitter.com/RyanmEft

 All images are property of the people what own the movie.

[tisfan]

Say It Again

Square: B3 - Deaf Creators: @tisfan & @27dragons Title: Say it Again Warning: None Rating: Teen Characters: Bucky, Tony, Clint, FRIDAY Tags: temporary deafness, tech doesn’t solve everything, caretaker Tony, dyslexia, ableist language and self-hatred Summary: Bucky loses the ability to hear… and learns something new about himself... Warning: This fic contains some mild amounts of cultural ableism, particularly in Bucky’s views on himself, not being able to read.  Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396732 Word Count: 3397 Posted for @winterironbingo​

Bucky always seemed smaller, somehow, in the infirmary, than he did in the rest of the world. Presence. Tony knew something about that; people were constantly shocked by how much shorter Tony was than they’d imagined, and, to some degree, how much less loud in a personal setting than a professional one.

The fact that he had lifts in the Iron Man armor probably didn’t hurt, either.

Bucky had come awake very suddenly that morning; the damage from the fall, combined with being at ground zero of a non-nuclear explosion had sent him into a coma for several days. Not unexpected, and while nerve-wracking, Tony admitted that sleep was the best thing for him. Let the serum heal the damage, just as soon as the medical trauma teams finished closing up the wounds.

He’d… laid there for a long time, not answering anyone. Eyes opened, looked around the room, and then closed again. He didn’t entirely seem… aware.

Around noon, he’d finally given medical something they could work with. He’d pointed metal fingers at his ear, and then shook his head.

His hearing was gone. Entirely, though the medics were confident that the serum would heal the damage in time. They didn’t, however, have any idea how long that would take. A few hours? A few days? A month? No clue. Ears, it turned out, were finicky and fussy constructions.

But other than that, he was in great shape, only a few bruises and nicks left to highlight where the worst of the damage had been, so they were cutting him loose.

Which left it to Tony to take care of his boyfriend. That was a switch; usually it was Bucky hovering at Tony’s side as he laboriously and without the serum healed from his injuries, or hacked his way through whatever bug had run rampant through the building.

Tony had whipped up quick app for Bucky’s tablet -- as long as he was within range of the Compound, anything anyone said to Bucky would be displayed on the tablet’s screen, in a discreet little bar at the top of the screen, where it wouldn’t interfere with the rest of the tablet’s function. “Here you go, babe,” he said, demonstrating the functions. “I’m pretty sure I can make it work outside of FRIDAY’s range, but the native voice-to-text translators are... lacking.”

Bucky stared down at the tablet, then back up at Tony’s mouth, back down to the tablet. He hadn’t said anything, at all, since the med techs turned him loose, even though nothing was wrong with his vocal chords. He scowled at the tablet again, then, very slowly, tapped out Thank you, and showed it to Tony. Followed by a scribble of Bucky’s normally terrible handwriting -- he’d been left handed before the accident, and Hydra hadn’t cared about his penmanship -- you talk too fast.

(more below the cut)

“You already knew that,” Tony pointed out, grinning. “I’ll try to slow it down a little for you. Is this better?” It felt like talking through molasses, honestly. “You know you can still talk, right?”

Bucky nodded. Medtex md me. Fezl weird.

Tony squinted at the message, then nodded. “Okay, as long as you know you can. Whatever makes you more comfortable. They said you should take it easy for a while, so... What do you want to do? Play chess? Watch a movie? We can put in something you’ve already seen, turn on the subtitles.”

Bucky stared down at the block of text that Tony had spewed out, even talking slower, he tended to say at least four times as many words as strictly necessary. Movis good. Die Hard? Unlike Steve, who complained constantly about the gunfire scenes in various action movies, Bucky’d always seemed to enjoy them; everything from Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy to Indiana Jones and back, the more ridiculous, the better.

Die Hard was not a Christmas movie, even if some people insisted it was, but they’d started it as a tradition around then, and sometimes Bucky would ask to watch it in July anyway. It might not be a Christmas movie, but Tony knew something about comfort films.

“You got it, sugarlips. You want to get it set up and I’ll get us some snacks?” Especially since Bucky had been in a coma, healing, for a couple of days. He was bound to be hungry; IV nutrition just barely sustained him. Something calorie-dense -- nachos, maybe, with meat and veggies and cheese, protein and fat and carbs all at once, and at least a nod toward nutrition. And some cookies for dessert.

Tony put it all together, a heaping platter of food and a selection of drinks, and carried it all back out to the movie room.

For a while, it was just them, and then Nat came in, wearing old leggings with holes in them and an oversized sweatshirt that Tony was pretty sure belonged to Steve. And then Steve joined them. And Bruce. And Clint.

And of course, everyone talked.

Bucky spent more of the movie scowling at his tablet than he did watching the film.

Tony nudged him. “Okay?”

Bucky nodded. Then, taking advantage of what appeared to be yet another Steve-against-gun-phyics argument, said in a voice that was probably meant to be a whisper. “It’s a lot.”

Tony glanced down at the tablet, which was scrolling text across the top in a continuous marquee, one line for Steve’s rant, and another for the movie, and a third of Clint arguing with Steve. Tony grimaced. “Sorry,” he said. “You want to do something else?” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to underscore his question.

Bucky nodded. Wrksp? Can just watch u

Tony nodded quickly. “Yeah, absolutely, we can do that.” He set aside the various dishes and bottles piled on their laps and then helped Bucky to his feet. “We’re just going to go somewhere a little quieter,” he told the others’ curious looks.

“He’s deaf,” Clint pointed out. “It doesn’t get much quieter than that.”

Tony made a face. “I can still hear you, birdbrain.” He curled his hand into Bucky’s. “Come on, Buckaboo.”

Being deaf was not at all like what Bucky had thought -- if he’d even given it any thought at all before it happened, and he was pretty sure he had not. 

First off, it wasn’t pure silence, if there could ever be such a thing. Bucky’s serum had enhanced most of his senses, turned them up to eleven, as Peter Parker had once explained it. He could hear breathing and heartbeats and the pulse of blood through a person’s veins, including his own. So, silence was a concept, not ever a reality.

Even being deaf, apparently, wasn’t no noise.

It was just senseless noise.

His head rang like a bell, constantly. Like a headache, with no pain. What he “heard” was the audio equivalent of the shimmer of sunlight on too-hot pavement. Directionless. Meaningless. Noise.

But it wasn’t silence.

There were some sounds he could still, sort of, hear. Gunfire. Someone yelling. It didn’t mean anything, out of context as it was, but he could hear it. 

So, that was good, at least. He didn’t have to worry about not hearing someone who was shooting at them.

Not that Steve would let him back into the field, even if Bucky wanted to, while he was operating impaired.

Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He relied on his hearing, the way a person moved in the space around him. Several times, recently, Tony had startled him, badly, just because he came up behind Bucky, out of his peripheral vision, and Bucky-- couldn’t sense him coming.

The shop, at least, was nice.

There was always noise -- Tony talking to his projects, the fabricators, FRIDAY, the bots -- but very little of it required Bucky’s attention at all, once he’d gotten FRIDAY to stop putting up song lyrics. He really did not care about the tribulations of Bon Scott.

Tony didn’t slip as seamlessly into his work as usual, coming back every ten minutes or so to check on Bucky. “Did you get enough to eat? Need a drink? A blanket?”

Bucky couldn’t decide if it was nice, or infuriating. It was very easy to get lost in the not-quite-silence. Like slipping away, sometimes it would take someone a moment to get his attention. So, it was nice to be reminded that he wasn’t… quite as alone as he’d felt. 

On the other hand, he was the goddamn Winter Soldier, and if he needed a blanket, he could bloody well get one.

“Reminds me,” Bucky said, and that was always so strange, talking. He knew he was talking, he could feel everything working just the way it was supposed to. He didn’t feel like he was drunk, or slurring, or anything. He just couldn’t hear it. And he didn’t know how loud he was being. “Of being the Winter Soldier.”

Tony blinked, startled, and tipped his head to the side curiously. “How?” he asked, or at least, that was the shape his mouth made.

Bucky gestured at the space around his head, like that meant anything. “I’m here. And there’s a wall of --” he tried to lower his voice, the pinched expression around Tony’s eyes a subtle clue, maybe, that he was talking too loud. “--nothing. Around me. Like, I’m here, but I’m not… important? Or I don’t understand. They would talk, near me, of course. But it never mattered what they said.”

Tony’s face got tight and pinchy, and he sat next to Bucky, reaching for Bucky’s hands. “You matter,” he said, very slowly, like it was very important that Bucky be able to understand him. “I love you.”

Bucky watched Tony’s mouth moving, memorizing each twitch of lip, the way his teeth moved, closing around the sounds. “Say it again.”

“I. Love. You.” Tony punctuated that with a light kiss, just a brush of his lips across Bucky’s.

“Thanks,” Bucky said, and his throat ached and it had nothing to do with whether or not he could talk, or hear. “Love you, too.”

He closed his eyes, felt Tony under his hands. He hated having his eyes closed, it made everything feel even further away than it was when he couldn’t hear it. But sometimes he just needed to not-- be.

God, his head hurt. Reading had always made his head hurt, for as long as he could remember. “Sometimes the best thing about bein’ the Winter Soldier was that I didn’t hafta read,” Bucky said, speaking into the blackness. 

Bucky felt Tony freeze for a moment, felt the vibrations of Tony’s voice, for a brief moment -- no more than a few words, before he remembered that Bucky couldn’t hear him. Tony moved, leaning closer, and he was nuzzling gently against Bucky’s cheek, his breath warm as it spilled over Bucky’s skin.

Bucky stubbornly kept his eyes shut for a few more moments, not wanting to try to read, or figure out, or… anything. Waited there, in the darkness. Heart thudding in his chest; he could feel the way it tripped, beating faster than normal. His blood pressure was probably through the roof, honestly.

What if it never comes back?

Finally, he sighed, opened his eyes, looked at Tony. Wondered if Tony was going to scold him for trying to ignore everything. Or something. Bucky wasn’t sure. The whole not-being-able-to-hear thing was giving him the serious creeps. Like he was always… missing something.

And that he might never get it back.

Tony was looking at him, forehead creased with worry and confusion. He opened his mouth, then shook his head a little. He opened his hands like a book, then made a comically exaggerated yuck face, tipping his head and raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I swear, I dunno how you all don’t have headaches, like all the time, stupid squirmy shit,” Bucky said. “First thing I did, when I moved in, back-- you know, back when it was JARVIS. He read everything to me, right in my ear. It was great.”

Tony’s lips moved, slowly repeating squirmy. His frown deepened, until Bucky felt the urge to reach up and smooth it away. And then all of a sudden, his eyes widened, and he said something that Bucky couldn’t read. And then started chattering a mile a minute, so Bucky could only interpret maybe one word in five. “--believe-- --help-- --so much-- --better--”

Bucky scowled down at his tablet, then “What’s sldexic mean?”

Tony stopped, and the scrolling letters paused, thank god. He turned his head, saying something to FRIDAY, and the monitor Tony had been working on flickered and cleared, the schematic replaced with a single word in a typeface -- font, they called it now -- Bucky hadn’t seen before. It was... heavy, like the bottoms of the letters weighed more than the tops, the lines there thicker, and it didn’t stop the letters from wriggling around, but it slowed them down, anchored them in place. DYSLEXIC, the word said. Underneath, a new line of text unfurled, in that same weighted text. A disorder that creates difficulty in learning to read or interpret words, letters, and other symbols.

Tony was watching Bucky closely.

“Slow,” Bucky said. “S’what my teacher tol’ Ma. I wasn’t-- I mean, I’m not. I ain’t… I ain’t dumb. I can read.” He felt that familiar shame, that what had been so easy for everyone else, Bucky had labored over and laughed around, and gotten out of by being charming. And… by a sticky fingerprint on a flashcard that told him that one word, the one he kept getting wrong. Was building.

Tony nodded, shook his head, made a face. “You’re damn smart,” he said slowly, carefully. “It’s not intelligence. It’s how you see the words. The letters...” He made a wriggly gesture with his hand. “Move.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. Of course they moved. That’s what words… did. They moved around, like they were playing musical chairs and Bucky could catch them, sometimes, and pin them to the page, enough so that he got the general idea of what he was looking at. But mostly, he just hadn’t bothered. Shooting a gun made… sense. “Well, yeah?”

Tony shook his head. “They should not,” he enunciated. “They should stay still.” He pointed at the monitor. “Better?”

Quieter. More still. Like he could pick the whole word up. Which, yes, better, but the fact that something had to be changed, just so Bucky could deal with it-- “Something’s wrong with me,” Bucky said. It wasn’t a question. Something had always been wrong with him, but hell, he was just a dumb gun, he didn’t need… except now he couldn’t hear, and apparently he couldn’t read. 

And he was alone inside his head.

His eyes burned and then words disappeared in a sudden wash of blurry tears. 

Tony’s arms were around him, holding him close, voice a subtle vibration against his chest, hands stroking soothingly over his hair.

Maybe it was that soft touch, or the way Tony’s voice was nothing but more wah wah in the wall of nonsense noise that flooded him, or just, realizing how big the gap was that separated them. Tony was a genius. A genius, and everything that came with it, and Bucky was not. Not even as good as a whole person anymore, and he didn’t deserve Tony.

And he couldn’t hear himself talk, so the whole story came flooding out. How he struggled so much in school, and hearing that there were places for kids like him. Hospitals for kids that weren’t right in the head. And so he learned. He got his sister to read to him, and she was two years younger, but he could get away with being loud and trouble because he was a boy, and she’d read to him and he’d memorize it. No one had to know.

Tony’s hands tipped Bucky’s face back to look up at him, brushing away hot tears. “You are smart,” Tony insisted. “Bruce is not dumb because he needs glasses to read. You are not dumb because you need help holding the words still. And I love you.” He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, to Bucky’s nose.

“Okay,” he said, because what else was he going to say? Tony obviously didn’t believe that Bucky was an idiot, even if Bucky felt stupider and slower than he ever had in his entire life. And maybe, maybe he could figure this out, cover it up, learn-- there were sign languages, weren’t there? Clint used them sometimes, when he didn’t feel like putting in his hearing aids. Bucky could learn that, maybe.

Something. 

Tony wouldn’t stand for it, if Bucky decided to just… give up.

He let Tony’s gentle, exploratory kiss brush over Bucky’s mouth. “Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

A week after that breakthrough, Bucky was learning ASL -- mostly from Clint, but supplementing with actual lessons, otherwise he’d mostly only know long-range weapons tactical words, and how to order a pizza, and a week after that, he was back in the field. 

Friday could translate Bucky’s sign into words when the team needed it, and the new font meant that Bucky was back on comms, with FRIDAY scrolling necessary information on his HUD.

Three weeks after that, Bucky had surprised Tony with an impromptu waltz around the shop, being able to feel the music rhythms in a special headset that Tony’d been working up. It wasn’t the same as being able to hear, but it was something, at least.

And every night, before bed, Bucky would ask him, very seriously, “Say it again.”

And every night, Tony would tell Bucky, as many times as he wanted, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He signed it as he said it, occasionally dipped into other languages, but always came back to the simplicity of English, and punctuated each declaration with a kiss.

“Love you, too, peaches,” Bucky signed back. He talked less than he used to, signed more. Tony missed the sound of his voice, sometimes, but tried not to mention it. Things were better, so much better, than they had been the first few weeks.

When Tony was woken from a sound sleep to Bucky’s cry, he was utterly shocked. Bucky didn’t make… involuntary sounds. Not anymore.

He was sitting up in bed, clutching at his head, and whining.

Tony sat up as well and put a hand on Bucky’s back, rubbing in small circles. He didn’t bother trying to talk, not while Bucky wasn’t looking at him. He turned up the lights a bit, though, so they could see to sign, if Bucky decided to tell him about it.

“Oh, god,” Bucky said, a whisper, barely a sliver of sound, and then again, louder. “Tony--” He stared up, eyes wide in the half light. “Tony, say something.”

“What is it, sweetheart? I’m right here.” Tony signed as he talked. He didn’t know as much ASL as Bucky had learned, yet, but it was hard not to pick it up, surrounded by it so much.

“I-- I can hear you,” Bucky said, almost reverently, like an old fallen sinner who’d just found God. Again. “Tony, I… Tony, I can hear you.”

“What?” Tony’s hands faltered. “You can? You can hear me?” He caught Bucky’s face in his hands. “Really?”

“I can hear you,” Bucky repeated.  “I didn’t--” he started crying, almost silently, little hitches of breath and the tears rolled down his cheeks. “I got used to it, I thought that was, it was just always… I got used to it.”

“Hey.” Tony pulled Bucky into his arms, tucked Bucky’s face up against his throat, rocking gently. “It’s all right, sweetheart, it’s okay. We didn’t know when, or even if. It wasn’t going to change anything important.”

“Scared me,” Bucky admitted. “Woke up… there was a noise, and I woke up. I didn’t even know… what was happening. Oh, god, Tony, I missed you-- so stupid, I missed your voice, all the time. The way you laugh. The way you say--” He looked up again. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Tony kissed Bucky’s lips, his cheek, his jaw, and then nuzzled at his ear. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you, too, peaches,” Bucky said. “God, I missed that. More than anything else.”

A/N: https://www.dyslexiefont.com/en/typeface/

Dyslexia, as a disorder, became more widely known in the United States in 1944, the year after Bucky Barnes fell from the train. For quite a long time, it was still thought of as being a lack in education, rather than a disorder. Bucky, having gone to school in the 20s and 30s, would have been classified as Learning Disabled and treated accordingly. (Not well.)

Divider Line by the way, Tumblr, I hate you. Give me my damn line back.

[centaurianwisdom]

Can you write a sterek wedding?

Awwwwww yiss  I can do that my friend!!

Derek was going into this blindfolded, to be quite honest. He hadn’t had much to do in the way of wedding planning, because immediately after Stiles had proposed to him, and Derek had said yes, he had started babbling about the practicalities of a wedding.

“Ok so, haaaahhhh, we are going to be married Derek, so we gotta be responsible adults now! We gotta show everyone we are ace at this adulting shit, because that’s what married people do right? They are ace at adulting?”

Derek nodded seriously. He was, however, panicking on the inside, because he couldn’t ever be credited with proper adulting, though Stiles had assured him he was getting better. Steadily.

Stiles watched him beadily. “How stoked are you about wedding planning? Honestly?” Derek sighed. He knew Stiles wanted a big wedding with all of its intricacies, because even though Stiles went through life as a deranged lunatic, he was, in fact, a highly organised deranged lunatic, and had probably planned his wedding down to the number of carnations that would grace each table at the wedding. Derek was happy to be married in the courthouse, just so he could be Stile’s in an official capacity, and Stiles his, but he couldn’t help but be charmed by Stiles’s childlike enthusiasm for his own wedding. “I’m sure I would just get in the way,” Derek muttered. Stiles softened and cupped his cheek, and rubbed his nose along Derek’s neck, scent marking him and immediately calming Derek down. “Hey, it’s your wedding and your opinions matter the most, along with mine. But if you are a bit uncomfortable with the nitty-gritty of it, why don’t you concentrate on the house you are building for us? I know you have big plans.” And did Derek mention he loves his sweet, deranged lunatic? Because he does. So much.

So fast forward two months and here they are, the day of their wedding dawning bright and sunny. The house was built and awaiting the newly-weds, and the big glade in the property served as the venue. A temporary gazebo had been erected in the middle of the glade, with orchids twining around the pillars and fairy lights strung all around it. The seats and the dining area were all in the open, as “werewolf-human weddings should bring nature into the occasion,” or at-least that’s what Lydia, Allison and Erica had done anyway. Scott and Boyd had just shrugged, calling all the contractors to set up the wedding, while Jackson, with considerable grumbling, had accompanied them to their fittings and cake tastings because he actually had good taste. Derek could feel the palpable excitement, and his heart grew ten sizes when he saw the limited number of guests, all their friends they had collected over the years, filtering into the clearing, dressed in their best clothes, all happy. He turned to Boyd, who was texting in the corner of the dressing room. “How’s Stiles?” he asked, fiddling with his bowtie nervously. “Bouncing with happiness, Erica says,” Boyd said. “He’s also obsessing if the choice of orchids was right after all.” Derek just smiled. Stiles was nervous too.

All too soon, it was time to head out to the gazebo, where the Sheriff was acting as the officiant. Derek gulped because this is it. He petted his pocket containing his vows one last time, and headed out, with Boyd accompanying him, Cora waiting for him at the altar. He reached the sheriff and shook his hand. The sheriff smiled back at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and whispered, “Oh, am I happy that my deviant son is getting married to a man of the law, Deputy Hale.” Derek laughed, carefree. “That’s Deputy Stilinski-Hale to you, Sheriff.” The Sheriff’s smile became wider. “Then it’s time you started calling me Dad, son,” he said, patting his shoulders briskly. Derek gulped harshly and smiled helplessly. Cora hugged him warmly and kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you, big brother.” Derek just pulled her in for another tight hug.

But all other thoughts rushed from his head when he saw Stiles walking towards him. Stiles’s hair was glistening in the sun, swept up from his forehead. He was wearing a beautiful custom tuxedo that highlighted his broad shoulders, his trim waist, and his slim legs. He was being escorted by Scott, whose grin rivaled the sun, and Lydia, who looked as regal as always, but her happiness was palpable. Stiles’s grin, however, was a private thing and was aimed only at Derek, which made his breath catch in his throat.

He held out his hand and it felt like all the breath vanished from his body when Stiles took his hand and came to stand in front of him, clasping both of Derek’s hands in his. The Sheriff had begun the ceremony, but Derek couldn’t hear him, eyes focused only on his beloved’s face. Stiles’s seemed to be likewise transfixed, and, oh, Derek remembered everything in a rush. The tumultuous circumstances of their meeting, how they had fallen together, comrades in trauma, and how being their constantly for each other, first through years of unending trauma, and then when they coasted through years of relative peace. And, and-

“Derek?” said a voice, shaking his shoulder. Derek shook himself from his reverie and looked around bemusedly. There were varying degrees of amusement on everyone’s faces, and Stiles smirked at him. “Whatcha thinking about there, Derek?”

“About you,” Derek said, honestly. It was quite rewarding to see Stiles blush like that.

“It’s time for you to say your vows, son,” the Sheriff prompted gently. Derek nodded, and made to take the paper out of his pocket, then hesitated. His Stiles was beaming at him, and he realized that he didn’t need to read anything out. So he took a deep breath, clasped Stiles’s hand tighter, and began.

“You know,” he said, conversationally, “I genuinely did not think I would ever be this happy.” Stiles sputtered out a laugh at that. “Stiles, when I lost my family in that fire, I felt that a large part of me had died, and I would always remain a husk of myself and that I would always burn anything I touched and I loved. I don’t know how I survived all those years of pain, and I don’t think I would have gotten out of this sane if it hadn’t been for you catching me. We had a false start, I know, and I know you barely tolerated me. But somehow my wolf always knew you were the one for me, and I wanted, believe me, I did. But how could I, when I was so damaged, so broken? I couldn’t turn you to ash either. Also, you were so achingly young, with fire in your eyes, and I did not want to be the one who put it out. So we became friends, and I was content to love you from a distance, and have the pleasure of blooming into the wonderful man you are.” Stiles lifted one of their clasped hands to his cheek and wiped away the tear that had escaped his eyes. Derek continued, “You went away to college, and here I started healing myself. To make myself worthy. Of you. I took a job, I took therapy. At first, I was doing it all for you, but you convinced me that healing myself should never be about pleasing others. But, it still is for you. Because when you came back to Beacon Hills, I felt healed enough to be able to pursue you. And the first time you kissed me and told me you loved me, my wolf howled, and I felt I had accomplished everything I ever wanted. And now, I want more. I want a family with you, a pack with you as my second. I want everything with you, Stiles, and it’s all because of you. Thank you, for giving me the courage to wish for good things for myself.” There were audible sniffles from the crowd at that. Stiles looked like he was going to break protocol and kiss him right there if Lydia hadn’t held him back with a delicate hand on his shoulders. “It’s your turn, Stiles,” she whispered.

Stiles coughed roughly to clear his throat and dramatically thumped his chest with his fist. “Sorry, I was drowning in my feels for a bit there.” Derek just held his hand tighter. “Derek, you idiot, I always wanted you too.” There was a titter from the crowd at that. “But yes, you are right. I am glad we both sorted out our priorities before we got together. I was a sad, lonely boy who used sarcasm and humor as a defense mechanism. And yes, I hated you at first. But then, as I got to know you better, I realized what a beautiful human being was hiding beneath layers and layers of sadness and anger. And believe me, I did want to be yours, so much. But then I realized that you were working on yourself, and I thought that I would let you come to me in your own time. I was happy to support you in any way I could. And when you told me you loved me and I kissed you, it was the best moment of my life. Hands down, no compare, 10/10 would recommend but I would cut down the hands of anyone who dared touch you. I love you Derek Hale, and I can’t wait to marry the shit out of you and having babies together and being a badass Pack Dad with you. I love you, Derek Stilinski-Hale.” The crowd clapped and hooted, and realizing the couple was raring to kiss each other, Scott and Boyd hurriedly put the wedding rings forward and Derek and Stiles slid them onto each other, matching platinum bonds with the triskele carved inside. And then at last, after a week of no physical contact, Derek swept Stiles into his arms and kissed him. Stiles curled around him and his arms wound his shoulders and his fingers in his hair. Derek’s hair was probably ruined, but Derek didn’t care a bit.

The rest of the wedding was a whirlwind. They were presented as Mr. and Mr. Stilinski-Hale and had to field all their enthusiastic guests. They ate and drank like they were starving while laughing at the hilarious and progressively drunker wedding toasts. They had their first dance to Ruelle’s “I Get to Love You.” It was the most memorable day of Derek’s life. In the midst of the laughter and happiness, Derek thought about his family and hoped they were happy.

Dusk had fallen, and the guests were dwindling. All the fairy lights had been switched on, and the glade looked like an enchanted fairy tale come to life. Derek and Stiles swayed under the fairy lights in the gazebo to faint music, hugging each other tightly, Stiles’s face smushed into Derek’s shoulder. Derek tilted Stiles head towards him. Oh, how beautiful he looked under the soft lights. The golden lights sparkled in his doe eyes, and Derek fell himself falling even deeper into their depths. “Hey husband,” Stiles said huskily. “I love you.”

Derek grinned dopily at that. “Hello, Mr. Stilinski-Hale. I love you too. What say we get out of here and, ah, christen our new house.”

Stiles barked out a laugh at that. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that forever.” Stiles kissed Derek sloppily on the cheek. “Married sex is going to be so awesome!”

[ravewulf]

Fight, Fuck, Love?

They fucked as much as they fought and were just as passionate about it.

Aka an alternate take on what Derek and Peter did offscreen from episode 2x11 through to the end of the series

My (slightly late) submission for @deterweek Day 5 - Free Choice. But hey, I finally posted something again after being inactive forever :D Not beta read so let me know if I made a mistake/said something confusing/if something could be phrased better/etc. Read it on AO3 or here under the Read More.

Things were different between him and Derek after he came back from the dead. Not that the others noticed. If they had they’d assume he had started it.

They’d be wrong.

It was as they got worked up in an argument that he sensed lust mixing with anger, fear, and frustration. But he never acted on it. After what his nephew had been through, he refused to be like that bitch.

(How he wished he could have drawn out her death. Made it as agonizing as what he had felt. What his family had felt.)

Derek had made the first move. Had flung him down, crawled on top of him and waited with a heated stare. Daring him to meet half way.

Peter remembered swearing under his breath before lifting his head to crash their mouths together in a kiss that was teeth, fire, and blood.

And then Derek had fucked him into the floor.

He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

It continued from there. Fight and fuck. A cat and mouse game for dominance where they both walked away satisfied regardless of who came out on top.

Coming at blows and cumming from getting blown. Banging into objects after being hit or thrown then banging each other against every surface they’d fought on. Swiping each other with claws and with tongues. Blood, sweat, cum, and spit.

It wasn’t until Cora came back that they stopped.

What a mistake that turned out to be.

Being an alpha had put a huge target on Derek’s back when he was still trying to get his feet under himself to stabilize their pack. Or what was left of it, anyway. He could’ve kicked himself for his own negligence in not monitoring his nephew as closely as he should’ve.

He took great pleasure in killing the Darach and made sure she could never come back.

Derek’s eyes were blue again, like his own, but couldn’t help but feel there was still potential there. Certainly more than the newly christened “True Alpha.” They didn’t see eye to eye on the matter but he’d hoped his sister might’ve been able to impart a bit of wisdom in her son when he sunk her claws into the back of his neck.

He also hoped his nephew had the sense not to mention what they did in the dark. Born werewolves having laxer taboos than humans didn’t change the fact that his sister had always been an interfering judgmental pain in his ass.

It was particularly important as he and Derek had spent quite a lot of time getting reacquainted with each other after dropping Cora off and he had no desire to stop. There was a lot less fighting this time around other than petty tit for tat arguments.

In fact, with the one exception of Stiles getting possessed (one of the few people he and Derek both considered to be as good as pack), things were going quite decently as far as he was concerned.

At least until that bitch came back and kidnapped his nephew.

He knew within hours of it happening and worked behind the scenes to get him back. It was infuriating to watch the “True Alpha” bumble his way through everything and claim all the credit but he’d get his comeuppance eventually. He’d make sure of it.

Getting Derek back to his proper age and losing $117 million of his savings in one go was a frustrating experience. He’d saved that specific amount in reference to Derek’s birthday. Sue him for being sentimental when he was younger.

Well, for what money he had left in his other accounts anyway.

Derek was in a touchy mood and it made it clear with a snarl. And yellow eyes. Yellow.

He was back to his normal age but his powers were fading.

They fucked to take the edge off their frustrations but were left uneasy.

He didn’t like giving out more of their funds to mercenaries when he’d just been robbed by one. Especially when could do a better job than Braeden at tracking Kate and wheedling inside information from her. It had been part of his role in the pack before but Derek insisted they have extra help.

He grudgingly let Derek have a couple weeks with Braeden to “train” to protect himself without his powers. If it kept him her on their side and helped his nephew get over Kate, then fine. But if she hurt him she’d go the same way as the others.

He did not take kindly to those that hurt his pack.

Everything in his world froze when Derek was stabbed by a berserker. He longed to stay by his nephew and lover’s side. Derek was insistent and Peter knew they couldn’t speak freely in front of the others. He reluctantly turned away to “help” Scott.

With Derek dying there wasn’t much to hold him back when his plan to force to Scott kill Kate went awry. He would teach the brat the necessity of killing to protect your pack from threats even if it meant becoming that threat himself.

Coming back from the dead worked the first time when he tested Derek. Who’s to say he couldn’t pull it off again?

He woke up in a cell in Eichen.

Not the afterlife but given who he was stuck with this wasn’t much better.

He did find out that Derek had survived too. Not that he’d saved him from this prison or come to visit as far as he knew. Maybe Derek thought he deserved it for working with Kate? He hadn’t told anyone he was double crossing her but he thought Derek would’ve known. Would’ve seen through to his motives.

Maybe he did deserve being here anyway. He couldn’t argue that he’d done quite enough damage already.

Months passed. More than six at the very least. Maybe nine? He couldn’t tell as they blurred together but finally, finally he saw an opportunity and took it.

To hell with McCall and his ragtag pack. They didn’t deserve his protection.

He fully intended to leave and find Derek, wherever he had got to. But then…

It was like being snapped out of a daydream as Stiles woke him and it took a few moments to clear his mind of the stifling fog of compliance that permeated the area.

Forgotten.

The Wild Hunt.

As dire as the situation was, it was a relief to know his nephew was away and safe from being taken by the ghost riders. More than that, he swelled with pride when Stiles said Derek had left almost immediately after Mexico to hunt down Kate before the trail went cold. He’d taught him well.

He only wished Derek had taken him along.

More than once he thought he saw Derek out of the corner of his eye. It was only someone who looked like Derek but he still checked every time.

Derek probably didn’t know he’d ever existed.

The only chance at fixing this was with Stiles’s friends recognizing something was wrong, to force them to remember. He could not hide that the prospect of what it would take to get out of this liminal space terrified him.

Although, taking a token of Stiles’ might protect him from being outright disintegrated as well as helping the others remember. There was no doubt, not after seeing Stiles get cell service in the middle of nowhere, that the boy’s powers had awoken.

Being burned alive was just as agonizing as it had been the first two times.

The bedside manner of the nurse tending to him could also use improvement.

But with the Hunt diverted and Stiles returned within short order, he turned to keeping his ear to the ground for news of Derek.

It wasn’t exactly difficult, not when the main topic in the supernatural gossip chain was a werewolf with the rare ability to transform into a real wolf tracking down a hunter who had decimated dozens of families.

What did take a bit of work was finding out that the FBI was looking for Derek thanks to Kate pinning the murders on him. His informant was able to pull a few strings and arrange an extraction plan in the event that Derek did fall into their hands.

Several months later they were having their own hunter problems in Beacon Hills. Some sort of fear monster was loose and Gerard was taking full advantage of the situation to recruit a sizable chunk of the town.

Predictably, Scott was resistant to even the most basic and least violent ways of neutralizing the hunters. According to the “True Alpha,” locking up werewolves for thinking he wasn’t an effective leader was fine but not humans who were actively committing genocide against the supernatural.

And on top of that they blew up his rare, and very expensive, Shelby 1000 Cobra Mustang. At least he had a spare given Malia hadn’t been interested. How she could be a Hale and not like muscle cars was beyond him. Derek certainly knew how to appreciate a good muscle car.

Speaking of his nephew, he showed up with Stiles just in time for the big fight. They had contradictory stories of how they got away from the FBI and neither story was completely true. No doubt he’d be hearing about whatever it was they got up to for the next few weeks. At the same time he couldn’t say he really minded.

He did mind the level of friendliness Derek was showing Scott. It didn’t ring as truthful though he suspected none of the others sensed it. He knew his nephew too well not to know something was up and filed that interesting bit of info away to revisit later. They had more immediate concerns.

Facing Anuk-ite was not pleasant. The less said about the experience, the better.

On the other hand, breaking out of a stone shell to beat up a hunter was a very nice highlight. Finding that Kate and Gerard had finished each other was also quite satisfying even if he hadn’t been able to get in his own parting shots.He didn’t hang around and chased down a few more hunters before they could all get away.

The others were still inside doing who knows what when Derek joined him outside in the shadows, leaning into his space. He could tell Anuke-ite had left its mark on him as well and pulled Derek into an embrace, leaning their foreheads together. Aside from generally being nice, it helped settle their nerves. Proof they were still here and with each other.

Derek kissed him but without the usual fiery passion. Instead of the fight-and-fuck they had started with, it was tender and slow. It held meaning that he wasn’t prepared to voice yet.

There was plenty that they needed to discuss with Monroe and her hunters on the loose, the lack of true leadership from the “True Alpha,” and most importantly about their relationship. They needed to talk, really talk, about the issues between them if they were going to take this further.

But it could all wait until morning. Right now there wasn’t anything more he wanted than to curl up with Derek and sleep.

And that’s exactly what they did.

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Movie Review: Avengers Endgame (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I cannot stress this enough, if you have made it this far without seeing Avengers: Endgame yet and have avoided spoilers...DO NOT READ ON. If you have seen the movie then feel free but if you have not do not ruin it for yourself.

Time Travel Trouble:

Alright so I mentioned in my non-spoiler review that a sci-fi element of the movie frustrated me. This was the already established plot-device of time-travel used in the movie.

Now we knew that the Avengers were going to travel through time to some degree in the movie, however what was kept brilliantly secret was how they travelled, when they travelled and where they travelled.

In order to stop Thanos, the Avengers decide to travel in time via the Quantum Realm and retrieve the Infinity Stones before Thanos did, however because they have limited Pym Particles to travel with they decide to pick moments in their own history where the stones are most likely to be and split into three teams each picking a year and place.

All that is great and made for a very fun story, however as with any movie or TV series to deal in time-travel, which is even commented on in this movie with Rhodey and Ant-Man listing the amount of movies to fall victim to these tropes, there always seem to be a case of fixing one problem but causing another and...with the exception of one event back in the time of the first Avengers movie, these problems were apparently all resolved.

However, two big things happened in this movie that should have had lasting damage on the last 11 years of the MCU.

The first is that when the New York team went back to the events of the first Avengers movie, they intercepted the original Avengers team who had the Tesseract and Loki in custody, but because of some minor team malfunction, surprisingly not caused by the time-travelling team, Loki managed to escape custody with the Tesseract.

The second is that the main sightings of Thanos in this movie is from a past version back in 2014 at the time of the first Guardians movie travelling to the movie’s present day of 2023. However, because the epic end to this movie culminates in this Thanos being poetically dusted, everything that chronologically followed for Thanos after 2014 should have been erased. Infinity War should not have happened in this reality yet everyone still remembers everything.

I love time travel stories because they do kind of venture into the “What if” scenarios that I like to see, but to this day I do not think I have seen one play out where audiences haven’t left going “But shouldn’t this be different? or “Shouldn’t he not be around now?”, it drives me crazy.

I’m going to do a separate post focusing on the time travel ventures in this movie where I will definitely be going into more detail.

Characters:

Alright so brace yourself because I am going in and going deep on these characters, again ranked both in order of my favourites and most important to the story.

Iron Man:

We have to start with Tony Stark because not only was he the one who started off the entire MCU but his last words in this movie seemingly sent the Infinity Saga into full circle going from narcissistic billionaire to selfless superhero.

It was always going to be Cap or Iron Man as the big death of the movie and I don’t think Iron Man fans will have a reason to be disappointed in this because of the work RDJ has done not only in this movie but in the entire MCU.

There are so many great moments for Iron Man in this movie that you can kind of tell he will meet his end by the end of the movie because that is what awaits the man who has everything.

When Tony and Nebula are rescued from the coldness of space, Tony freaks out at the loss they suffered during Infinity War and decides to quit being a superhero.

Five years pass and Tony is now married to Pepper and has a daughter, however when Cap and friends approach him about a way to fix reality, he eventually succumbs to the hubris and sets about helping to change destiny.

RDJ’s classic whit and emotion that have helped shape this version of Iron Man are in full swing during the course of this movie. You believe Tony Stark would joke about selling his daughter’s toys if she didn’t go to bed, you believe after 6 years of trying to save the world only to be fought on every decision leading up to the world being destroyed that he hold resentment and hostility towards Cap and the team, you believe all of it.

Also, Tony and Cap going back in time to 1970 and Tony coming face-to-face with his deceased father who cannot be much older than him at that point, was a heart-tugger as you kind of do want Tony to have that moment with his parent that Thor had.around the same time in the movie, but more so because we have learned of the hostile relationship Tony and Howard had throughout the past 11 years.

I did find it interesting that once they got all the Infinity Stones from the past, an Iron Man armour gauntlet was used as a replacement Infinity Gauntlet. I know the original Gauntlet was made out of the same metal that Thor’s weapons are made out of. but I was slightly confused on the fact Iron Man’s armor could take the power of all six stones.

Tony’s insistence on making sure his current state of life stays the same even after the second snap was, I think, the pivotal moment where everyone realised Tony has real investment in his life and the life of others. He has always been saying about trying to protect the world dating back to the Ultron debacle, but now he is hammering that home due to his marriage and his daughter but also Peter.

I thought it so poetic that Iron Man was the last hero standing against Thanos after Thor and Cap had been knocked out. Recongizing the fact that without the suit, Tony is really just about his brain rather than physical fighting so for him to not only be the last one standing, but also the one who started it all back in 2008 was poetic justice at it’s finest.

Captain America:

This is the first time in a long while I feel justified calling him Captain America, because he got the shield back, he shaved the beard, and he was in the blue which is Captain America for me.

I do enjoy Chris Evans in this role, not as much as everyone else seems to and I don’t see him as leading man material. However I do think, much like everyone else, he brought his best self to this movie.

I think right from the start when we see Cap trying to gather his team together even with Tony pretty much showing him up in front of everyone was very him. I did understand both sides of the argument but I do agree with Tony after Cap preaches after Ultron saying “Win lose we do it together” yet because of both their hubris after the Civil War incident, neither have communicated and thus Tony blames Steve for not being with him when everything went down.

Also Cap saying he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that confrontation with Thanos didn’t work out in their favour very much a last resorts moment, but then after Thanos was killed they still didn’t move on. This is very much Cap’s story all the way through the MCU and I love the fact it’s only really highlighted here.

He has never been able to move forward since coming out of the ice, he is the ultimate fish out of water but he masks it while there is still something to focus on. With no real mission or role anymore, Cap just becomes lost himself.

This is why I feel it’s great Natasha became the de facto leader of the Avengers while Cap becomes a support worker of sorts. He’s trying to find his place in the world now the world is no longer what is was.

For that reason, I understand why he was so willing to go along with the time travel angle. Bringing back everyone who they lost to the decimation is the best case scenario, however if for some reason they fail Cap doesn’t really have anything to lose.

You can tell the mutual admiration he and Tony have for each other even when they’re at logger-heads. This is shown when Tony returns to the Avengers Compound in renegade style and Cap just stands there and doesn’t even eye-roll he’s so used to it by now. Also Tony returns his shield so he can’t really complain.

When they went back in time and Cap, Tony, Bruce and Scott went to 2012, the fact Cap was smart in not only using his knowledge of Sitwell and Rumlow being HYDRA to obtain the scepter but then he was actually quite comedic in fighting himself only to then comment on his own arse.

I didn’t guess that when they went back in time to 1970 to get the Tesseract and Pym Particles that he was going to see Peggy, I know they didn’t see each other or interact but it didn’t clock that it was a possibility.

I also didn’t surmise that he would somehow find a way to end up staying with her, although I did think when Cap and Tony went back from 2012 to 1970 that Cap maybe wouldn’t make it back, I was wrong.

That final battle when it was Cap, Thor and Iron Man against Thanos was the stuff of legend. Not only was the fight just simply stunning but Chris Evans particularly really delivers in the physical acting of it, portraying the rage and determination he has for stopping the Mad Titan.

Then there’s the moment that got people clapping in the audience, Mjolnir is lifted from the ground and hurls towards Cap, Captain America can wield Mjolnir as many fans...and Thor...suspected from Avengers: Age of Ultron but to see it confirmed when he had the hammer and the shield was epic.

Also the fact that Falcon contacts him with that great throwback to that great banter they had during The Winter Soldier was such a sweet moment. Although it is weird that he then the first one to come through the portals but I digress.

It’s interesting that it was Cap who had to travel back in time and return the stones, maybe because Thor was so far gone he couldn’t be trusted or just because one of these stones was on Asgard, but I don’t know it served it’s purpose...and that is to give Steve Rogers his final send-off after Tony Stark had his.

It’s not quite “The Death of Captain America” that fans have wanted since Civil War but the fact he returns the stones but remains in 1970 to be with Peggy and live out their life together was a very touching way to say goodbye to the First Avenger.

The fact we see him as Old Man Cap on that bench overlooking the lake, and Falcon has that talk with him about how he finally got a life was almost like living out the last request of an old friend but also finally being able to live out his life.

I do think this is maybe the last time we see Steve Rogers as Captain America, especially now he’s passed on the shield and the mantle to Sam Wilson, if we do see him again it may just be a cameo or something but I think Chris Evans is done now with the MCU.

Black Widow:

Yes, my top three characters involve deaths, in fact four but I’ll get to that. However, it not just because these characters all essentially died that make them the top of the list, it is the way they did it.

This movie was the best I have seen Black Widow since The Winter Soldier and I credit the Russo Brothers and Scarlet Johansson for both. She only really came to life for me after the five year gap when her blonde hair has grown out leaving the red. As I said with Cap, the fact that she has become essentially the de facto leader of whatever version of the Avengers this future team is supposed to be was really her.

Let’s not forget Natasha is a former SHIELD agent and spy so she knows protocol and how to lead. As she said, the Avengers and SHIELD is really all the family she has ever known and so to lose essentially half of that is quite the blow. Also, let’s face it, the world doesn’t really need the Avengers anymore yet Nat is determined to keep the universe in order.

Also, Johansson’s acting in this movie just physically rather than verbally is the best I have seen from her. When Rhodey tells her about Clint and how he has been for several years, her reaction of trying to keep it all together until Rhodey hangs up was powerful for me.

The comedy she had as well here was rather good, her constant digs at Rocket were brilliant. From telling Scott that she can’t call him crazy because she gets emails from a raccoon to later when she and Hawkeye are on Vormir and she snaps when Hawkeye tries to correct her on him not being a raccoon by saying “Whatever, he eats garbage!” so funny.

Speaking of Hawkeye, I have missed him for many reasons but his connection with Natasha is up there in my list. The fact that she was the one who found him and brought him round and then they went together to Vormir only to find out that one of them had to die to get the Soul Stone.

I thought, like most originally, that Hawkeye would be the one to die because let’s face it as much as I like him he’s not the most popular, however when you reach that realisation that both want to sacrifice themselves for different reasons and it becomes a question of who can get there first, the fact they were both hanging off the cliff and you knew Black Widow would be the one to die but it was just such a great scene between such good friends and such a powerful end to the original female Avenger in the MCU...I loved it.

Also, this may be slightly morbid and I don’t know if it was intentional, but when Nat died and you had the same overhead shot as you did with Gamora, that blood pouring from her head seemed to blend in with the red colour of her hair and made her look like she had the original red hair she had during Iron Man 2.

I will go into reasons why I think her death either isn’t permanent or shouldn’t be when I talk about the time travel stuff in a separate post but I know Black Widow has a solo movie on the horizon so I am curious to see what they do with that. But if anyone still needs evidence Black Widow deserves her own movie, this movie is it.

Nebula:

I have loved this character since the first Guardians of the Galaxy. Karen Gillan has been an asset to this universe and one of its breakout stars along with Letitia Wright and Tom Holland.

I loved it during the beginning of the movie when Tony is teaching her about table football and he’s kind of acting like a carer or parent despite he’s the one who could easily die, in return she looks after him. It was a very touching montage of scenes in that opener.

Also that little moment with Rocket when she and Tony were rescued by Captain Marvel was very sweet. This movie was choc-full of emotions and I did not mind.

The time travel element in this movie was best suited for her, yes she was a plot device in it but it was so unexpected and so brilliant that I for once was able to just see is as part of the movie rather than just its own thing.

The fact that when Nebula travelled back to 2014, the Nebula of 2014 and her were linked and therefore shared the same memories was fecking genius. As a sci-fi geek, as a fan of cybernetics, I absolutely loved this scene and Karen Gillan sold the fact that it was two different Nebulas, the one we know in present day who has gone on this journey from villain to anti-hero and even possibly now hero, but then the 2014 Nebula who was full of rage and trying to please her father Thanos.

Past Thanos finding out about the Avengers’ plans this way was also rather organic. So when present-day Nebula was abducted by Thanos and 2014 Nebula convincingly traded places with her to return to the present. I didn’t even question the fact no one knew the difference because she would have had all the intel from present Nebula’s memories.

Past Gamora and present Nebula having a couple of chats about Gamora’s future and their relationship was very nice. Not only for seeing Zoe Saldana again but also because this Gamora was supposed to be the deadliest woman in the galaxy and as such Nebula’s equal.

I did find it interesting that Gamora needed almost no convincing to side with present Nebula and when they went to stop 2014 Nebula as she’s about to end Hawkeye’s life, the fact present Nebula has to kill her past self is also very poetic.

It does kind of bring into question if Nebula should still be alive because her past self is dead but she’s essentially a robot so I guess it doesn’t exactly count and also superhero logic so pass.

I do love she went back with the Guardians, I think if Tony had stayed alive she would have potentially stayed with him given their new friendship, but she belongs with the Guardians and I cannot wait to see her return in Guardians 3.

Hawkeye:

Yes, Hawkeye finally gets something to do! I am so happy with how Hawkeye was treated in this movie. Not only do we start off with him and seeing what his life was like post-Civil War was rather quaint.

Not only do I think watching Clint’s family all be dusted explains why Hawkeye went all Ronin, but also it solidifies the reason why his family was introduced in Avengers: Age of Ultron. I really enjoyed his family, I will get into his daughter’s future in a second separate post about the future of the MCU.

Jeremy Renner finally proves himself for me with his acting skills, I always liked Hawkeye for just being Hawkeye, but here Renner was dramatic and it worked.

From losing his family, to reuniting with Natasha, to going back in time to his homestead, to losing Natasha at Vormir. All of it worked as a dramatic performance.

Speaking of Vormir, as I said with Black Widow, it was so intense waiting to see just who was going to die in order to get the Soul Stone. However, I had that fight or flight moment when you realise what you want because of your instant reaction and it was Hawkeye running in slow-motion after knocking Nat over and jumping off the cliff...I was instantly upset and vocally went “Nooo!” so I’m not happy Black Widow died but I think it is right and feel Hawkeye has more to give.

Having said that, I then thought he was going to die again only this time at the hands of Nebula...to which I would have had two of my favourite characters and one killing the other so I would not have been happy. Fortunately that wasn’t the case and one of my favourite characters just killed their past self, it’s all good.

I did also love when the compound blew up and Hawkeye was at the bottom of the rubble with the new gauntlet and started running through the catacombs being chased by the Outriders was where the horror aspect came in for me because it felt like a scene out of Alien, I loved it when he finally got to the higher ground and zapped them away basically telling them to do one before collapsing from exhaustion, it was so good.

Then when it came to playing hot potato with the gauntlet on the battlefield, after he gave it to Black Panther I am not entirely sure what he did or even if he was on screen until Tony’s funeral where he and Wanda think about their lost loved ones.

I know there’s a Hawkeye TV series planned for Disney+ and I do look forward to seeing what occurs on the series.

Thor:

Oh my god Fat Thor is going to be a meme and gifset for years to come. Just when you think Chris Hemsworth cannot top what he did in Thor: Ragnarok, he cranks it up a notch or two here.

I thought it was very realistic that after blaming himself for not ending Thanos’ life which led to the decimation, he would deliver the final blow at the start by lopping off his head as a kind of poetic irony.

However, the fact he then went into despair and isolation in New Asgard, Norway, when a lot like Cap, he has nothing else to do with his life and still half of reality is wiped out.

He just eats and drinks to his heart content, apparently with his roommates Korg and Meek, great seeing them again. Also Valkyrie, who gets a surprising amount of screen-time here.

The Big Labowski reference was so funny and so fitting, you half expect him to have a shisha pipe it is that bewildering. He plats his hair and beard at the end of this movie when he goes into God of Thunder mode and despite everyone saying he looks like Odin, no he looks like Volstagg.

I loved loved loved when he and Rocket went back in time to Asgard 2013 and he was reunited with his mother. Rene Russo had more impact in this movie than either of the first two Thor movies.

But the fact he decided to talk with her and leave the mission of retrieving the Reality Stone from Jane to Rocket was also an interesting move. I never really felt the chemistry from Thor and Jane anyway. But it was really nice for him to have those last moments with Frigga because I don’t think they interacted at this point in the movie.

Also, he got Mjolnir back, you can say anything you want about Fat Thor but was smart enough to think about it and it was glorious to see him wielding two weapons.

Thor was very gung-ho in thinking the new complete gauntlet would work, he was just so adamant in trying to right his wrong that he was willing to put the whole of reality at risk...again.

When Cap was shown wielding Mjolnir and Thor is thrilled by this apparently, the battle later when Cap has Stormbreaker and Thor has Mjolnir, Thor just saying “No no, you take the small one, I want the big one” was fantastic!

After the battle is won and Tony’s funeral is had, the fact Thor decides to leave New Asgard in the hands of Valkyrie and joins the Guardians was a very fitting move. He had his best scenes in Infinity War with them as a group and the fact he and Star-Lord are already squaring up to each other bodes well for Guardians 3.

Hulk:

I’m just going to skip straight to Professor Hulk here because this was both a shock and a pleasent surprise. I knew Professor Hulk would be turning up in this movie and that somehow Banner would find a way to merge him and Hulk in unison. I just didn’t know how Mark Ruffalo’s acting would resonate but it was absolutely brilliant.

The fact Professor Hulk simply looked like Mark Ruffalo just as the jolly green giant was slightly surreal but in the best way. I can’t decide if I thought he was really there because his movements and mannerisms felt a lot like Mr. Incredible from The Incredibles which is a Pixar movie.

It does make sense that if Stark is the brainiest of the Science Bros. that Banner is second, however time travel he does not know. 1) He turned Scott into a child, baby and elder before managing to reverse the process. 2) He seemed adamant that the team would not make the mistakes of a list of time-travel movies...he didn’t actively make these mistakes but the team still made mistakes.

The fact that now Banner seems to be the brain in charge as opposed to Hulk, when they went back in time to 2012 and he saw his past self smashing and bashing, the fact Professor Hulk is so embarrassed by his former actions that he calls it gratuitous, it was so brilliant.

I did like how he had a reaction when Natasha was revealed to be dead, I would have liked to have seen a scene between the two of them either in Infinity War or here just to either get closure on their rocky romance or at least talk about it because it was left rather abruptly.

I agree that Hulk is the only one capable of wielding the gauntlet without dying because he is able to take the radiation, the fact it screwed his arm up is simply a battle scar I guess.

I’m curious to know if Bruce is going to stay as Professor Hulk going forward, or even if he has a future going forward. He does seem to be at peace with this new form and so maybe he will remain as he is.

Captain Marvel:

I was very surprised by how little screen-time Carol Danvers had in this movie, I think it’s actually less than Black Panther in Infinity War.

I am glad she didn’t pull focus because she is so powerful that she would have made the rest of the team surplus.

She had a Tinkerbell quality to her in this movie particularly at the start with the soft music and the fact she appeared in a ball of light almost as Tony Stark’s guardian angel.

On that note, at the end of Captain Marvel in the post-credits Carol appeared to the Avengers when the team were trying to figure out what Fury’s pager meant, where was that scene in this movie? I appreciate false footage in an effort to throw the fans off but Carol goes from looking rugged and battle-beaten there to literally glowing here.

Brie Larson still isn’t...clicking for me. I don’t know if it’s because I really wanted Charlize Theron in the role and therefore continue to see her rather than Brie but something about the voice or the wardrobe just isn’t adding up for me.

Also Brie Larson made some very distinct choices for the character when they’re in 2023, that short hair, I mean I know Carol Danvers famously has short hair in the comics, but this was a statement look and that statement is of the LGBT variety, especially now with Valkyrie in the mix.

Even Carol’s funeral outfit made a statement as it was clearly a pantsuit, not a dress. I am curious to see if this ever gets a mention on-screen or if it remains an unspoken thing.

When she showed up in the end battle, yes she had been gone for a long time, but she came back in style. I loved how after Thanos’ gun onslaught, they suddenly just stop and point upwards as they detect something entering the atmosphere. Honestly I almost forgot about her at that point because so much was going on, but when she came in and simply destroyed Thanos’ ship I was won over.

Even her interaction with Peter I loved, when he’s clutching the new gauntlet like he’s holding onto a tree and she descends and just says “You got something for me”, it was a cute interaction and I want more of that because it works for her.

Then there’s that A-Force tease which I will talk about in a separate post but my god I was living for that moment when all the living MCU women gathered around Carol to help her out. It was so good, I was fist pounding at that point.

Ant-Man:

Alright so, one of the big mysteries of this movie is how Ant-Man was going to get out of the Quantum Realm...he got out by a fluke rat scurrying across the control panel...a rat!

Paul Rudd definitely has the comedic chops in this movie. He has about the same role as he does in Captain America: Civil War but it is still a good role.

When he is reacquainted with his daughter Cassie, who has aged by five years so he doesn’t initially recognise her, it is a tender moment because obviously she recognises him but because he’s been gone for five years there’s that initial heartache of not recognising your own child.

Cassie didn’t really do much else in this movie, despite my believing she was going to be Stature here, but it was a nice addition.

The fact Scott was so adamant in not breaking the rules of time travel, despite Tony, Bruce and Nebula all laughing him off, he was still okay with taking these stones out of history, even for a minute in their time, and not thinking it should destroy the timeline...again I’ll go into that in a separate post.

Thanos:

Then as for Thanos, Kevin Feige made us wait 6 years but the MCU’s big bad has really paid off over these last two movies. I am really happy with how this movie treated Thanos, both in the opening of the movie and in the second to third acts with past Thanos.

This does create SO much drama in terms of time travel but I will get into reasons as to why it does in my next post. However, from a movie standpoint for what it was. I did think the movie did a great job at not cheapening his death at the beginning but still making his death at the end worth it.

Josh Brolin has been brilliant in this role and you cannot believe that a giant purple alien in gold armour can work but then you see him here.

Thanos is definitely the best MCU villain and after many years of the MCU having a villain problem it is brilliant to see their big bad finally pay off in these movies.

Other Heroes:

Rocket and War Machine are great in this movie, I even have come around to Don Cheadle as War Machine after so many years and movies of him driving me crazy, but the two are still great yet they don’t have the same impact as other characters.

Returning Heroes:

The end of this movie begins with almost every fallen hero from infinity War returning for the final battle. It was spectacular to see all of these heroes standing together and fighting alongside one another in ways we didn’t even see in Infinity War.

It is fascinating to see where these characters stories will go next, either in movies or on the streaming service.

Conclusion:

I cannot begin to describe how much I enjoyed this movie. It was action-packed, dramatic, so emotional and full of surprises that I have already seen it twice just to try and ensure I catch everything and I still plan to see it at least a third time.

As being someone who has followed this film series practically since the start, I think the first movie I saw in cinemas was Captain America: The First Avenger, and to see all these movies and characters come together in this one juggernaut of a movie is glorious. 

I am fascinated to know where this universe goes next, who will be the next big bad and who else will be introduced into the MCU family.

Overall this is a 9.5/10 movie, I am not letting the time travel conundrums detract from my enjoyment of the film but I cannot call it a perfect movie for that reason. It is however the best MCU movie just because of the feelings and grandeur and closure for a couple of heroes.

So that’s my spoiler review for Avengers: Endgame, apologies it took me so long. What do you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Marvel Movie Reviews as well as other movie reviews and posts.

[gavillain]

So with the year about to close, I’m once again doing my annual Top Ten Villains of This Year list. My personal rule for doing this: these characters are judged solely on the merits of their 2018 appearances, and I’m not going to include any villain who has appeared on last year’s list (which you can read here), even if they would still make the cut. Also bear in mind that this is only from media that I actually saw/read/played this year, so forgive me if your favorite isn’t here because I might not have seen them. New December movies in particular slipped through my fingers.

List under the cut

10. Lotor (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Ever since Lotor first debuted, he's never been villainous enough for me. He's been positioned in villainous roles, but he never really did anything all that bad or evil. Season six, however, sees the true depth of his evil finally get revealed. His obsession with his Altean heritage and loathing of his Galra side is interesting from a psychological perspective, and his actions as the seemingly benevolent but truly vicious leader of the Altean refugees really highlight how truly sinister this guy was. He has quite a lot of blood on his hands all done to fuel his thirst for power. The final battle with him in the quintessence field was pretty cool too. I love seeing normally refined and restrained villains just totally lose it and go balls to the wall psycho and that's exactly what we got. We really finally got to see Lotor for who he was beneath all of the false masks he showed to Team Voltron and the audience, and, for that, I definitely consider him one of the year's best.

9. Barbara Kean (Gotham)

Gotham every year always has a great villain to highlight, and while I assume most Gotham fans are coming out of this year talking about the Valeska brother, I think Barbara Kean really showed her stuff this year. Barbara's had an interesting journey on the show, going from a bland love interest to a psycho ex-girlfriend to a Fish Mooney esque crime boss to this season becoming the heir of Ra's al Ghul himself. This year we saw Barbara Kean inherit Ra's al Ghul's mantel as the Demon's Head and assuming control over the League of Assassins. She proceeded to immediately put the sexist men in their place and established a lethal team of female assassins to serve her. It's fun to see Barbara taking on a new mantel and even being instrumental in taking down the original Ra's al Ghul when his schemes go too far. Her ultimately taking charge as the leader of the Gotham Sirens and declaring her turf a violently men-free-zone is a fun touch that I look forward to seeing get followed up in season five.

8. Magica DeSpell (DuckTales)

When I first heard that the DuckTales reboot was building up Magica DeSpell as some serious business Big Bad, I was definitely among those scratching my head. Magica had always just been a reoccurring funny villain with wacky hijinks rather than anyone who acted as a true Knight of Cerebus. However, 2017 DuckTales pulled it off and did so WONDERFULLY. Magica is not only a big serious villain and threat; she also maintains her same charismatic and funny personality. You see her manipulating Lena to giving up her body and unleashing ultimate darkness whilst still cracking jokes and going after Scrooge's number one dime. It's hard to balance genuine serious villainy with comedy, and it's a balancing act that the Disney villains of the 90s had down pat. And that's exactly what Magica feels like: a harkening back to that golden breed of Disney villains, and I hope to see her continue on in season two.

7. The Sanderson Sisters (Hocus Pocus: The All New Sequel)

This was the twenty-fifth anniversary of Hocus Pocus, and, to celebrate, Disney released a sequel novel that included both a novelization of the original film and an all new story set years later. The Sanderson Sisters are iconic and hilarious villains who have long been among my all time faves, so seeing them return in book form was a rare treat. This time, the Sandersons are scheming to bring all of the witches back from Hell to take over the world, and it's pretty scary reading Winnie's evil literally sending innocent people to Hell to exchange for evil witches. Mary also gets a solo musical number about her relationship with Winnie that's a lot of fun and sheds a new light on her character. It's operating at about the same level as A Twisted Tale in terms of quality so it's not hitting anything out of the ballpark, but seeing the Sandersons get treated to new content coinciding with their twenty-fifth anniversary is really fun and is worth their inclusion for sure.

6. Killmonger and Klaue (Black Panther)

The biggest movie of the year also gave us two of the very BEST villains of the year in the form of Killmonger and Klaue. Klaue, as portrayed by Andy Serkis, is naturally fun as a sinister and charismatic thief and arms dealer, filling sort of the "funny villain" quotient for the film. He's enjoyable and a treat to watch every time he's on screen. He's an evil white man who is raping African of its natural resources out of his sense of greed and entitlement. Killmonger compliments that nicely by being one of the deepest and most thought provoking character in the entire MCU. Killmonger is fun because not only is he sadistic and someone who enjoys bloodshed, he's also driven by righteous anger over the way that Wakanda has turned its back on black people globally. He has a desire to turn all of that around and remake the world. He may be cold and ruthless, but you can also see where he's coming from and that makes him all the more effective.

5. Salem (RWBY)

Salem, since her debut, has been a generic evily evil who eviled for some evil evil and never really had any texture at all besides being a vague evil. All of that changed this season of RWBY. We now know Salem and Ozpin's backstory. I was enthralled and mystified the entire time during their backstory. The animation, the story telling, everything was top notch. Salem is a woman who was cursed by immortality that hardened her into someone bitter and angry. She lost the man she loved once through death and then after his reincarnation, she lost him through his own fear of what she had become. She really feels like the type of character who is a tragic figure of myth at this point, and I loved how her motivation seems to stem from a bitterness at the gods and a desire to end the world that they created. Very fun for an arch-villain.

4. Red Goblin (The Amazing Spider-Man)

Dan Slott's decade long run as head writer of the Amazing Spider-Man came to an end earlier this year with a grand finale to end all grand finales: Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin, rediscovers Spider-Man's secret identity and bonds with the Carnage symbiote to form the Red Goblin. Now, on some level, I find that whole concept to be very fanwanky, but, on the other, it's REALLY fucking cool. Yeah, Spider-Man writers have a tendency to continuously try to tell the next great Norman Osborn story, and, while this doesn't really rank in my top five, it's a worthy effort. I appreciate how it shows off how vicious and relentless Norman is. Him just fire bombing random people on the street to get under Peter's skin in particular is one of those great twisted moments. I also liked seeing Norman corrupt his grandson Normie Osborn with the symbiote and getting a grandpa's little monster serving him. It's got that fun "he's an assassin and a hostage rolled into one effect. And, of course, the Red Goblin left a permanent mark on Spider-Man history by being the villain who murdered Flash Thompson, long time friend and ally of Peter.

3. Obake (Big Hero 6)

The Big Hero 6 TV show has been a slam dunk for Disney television. Bringing in the same creative minds behind Kim Possible, the show has a great "loving parody of he superhero genre" feel to it whilst still being an epic hero show in its own right, and six heroes are only as good as their villain. Voiced by Andrew Scott of Jim Moriarty fame, Obake is an evil genius mastermind who's always in control of a situation and always crafting diabolical and brilliant schemes. Obake is in many respects a dark image of what Hiro could become: a man who refuses to limit his brilliance by morals or familial ties. His brain has outright been damaged to where his conscience doesn't check him and this brain damage IS slowly killing him, but he accepts it as a reasonable price for his perspective free of morality. But in the end, his schemes were all that he had, and when he's defeated, he has no reason to live and effectively commits suicide after letting Baymax go. There's a really great tragedy to the way he ends up. And, on top of that, he's just a really interesting and charismatic villain with fun quirks, fun minions, and engaging schemes. Easily one of the very best villains to come out of Disney television. 2. Doctor Octopus (Spider-Man PS4)

One of the really smart features of Insomniac's Spider-Man game is that Octavius is actually not Doctor Octopus at all for the first half of the game. Octavius is Peter's friend and boss, and the two of them are working together on cybernetic appendages for prosthetic limbs that respond to the brain waves just like regular limbs. Octavius has a degenerative brain diseases that is causing him to slowly lose control of his motor functions. As such, when he thinks he has the solution, he's overly hasty to use it even though the cerebral interface has a dangerous impact on his personality and moods. It causes him to act upon his worth impulses, particularly his resentment and anger towards Norman Osborn. This turns him into the Doctor Octopus who we all know, much to Peter's sadness. Peter ends up struggling a lot in this game over whether Octavius is worth saving, and it tears him apart when they reach their climax. No spoilers, but it's POWERFUL writing and acting. I particularly like how this version of the characters takes a little from every single iteration of the character without ever feeling unfresh. He has that personal connection and tragic element of the Raimi Ock, he has the intelligent master criminal side of the comics version, he has a design that echoes the sort of "I may be an overweight nerd but I can still kick your ass" appeal of the Spectacular Spider-Man version, and yet they still find his own unique sweet spot of characterizations that perfectly blends with the Insomniac Spider-Man world. I particularly enjoy his use of the Sinister Six and how he gets them all under his control by using his intelligence to give them each what they want so that they're all in debt, but they all genuinely seem to enjoy and admire him. That's an excellent retelling of the Sinister Six that's far more interesting than just "We all hate Spider-Man so let's team up to fight him."

1. Venom (Venom)

This was honestly the biggest and weirdest surprise of the year for me. See, the whole idea of a Venom solo movie is a uniformly bad idea from basically the word "Go." Oh yes, let's do a movie about a villain whose entire character revolves around being a dark version of Spider-Man in a movie that completely omits Spider-Man so that the villain can be the protagonist. That won't backfire at all. Well, of course, it totally backfired into a complete mess, but it happened to create a mess that was entertaining and enjoyable and had an absolutely wonderful and fun take on the Venom character. This film leans hard into the romantic side of Eddie and the Venom symbiote's bond and sort of formats itself as a gay alien romcom. Eddie is a journalist who wants to be a hero through his reporting, but he pursues it at the expense of every meaningful relationship he has. Venom is the runt of his alien litter who on Earth suddenly finds himself as the big fish in a small pond, and he likes it that way. In Venom, Brock finds a relationship that allows him to indulge his savior complex that won't be destroyed by it, and in Brock, Venom finds someone who allows him to indulge his power trip and sense of narcissism. They complete one another. Yes, it's stupid. Yes, it's cheesy. No, it's NOT the Venom we know at all. But, yes, it's a fun and effective route to take the character in the absence of Spider-Man. The thing is that the reason why it's so fun is pretty much all Tom Hardy. Tom Hardy has a weird awful accent, but he also gives this weirdly camp performance that's just captivating and fun. It actually reminds me a bit of Jack Sparrow in a way in that it's so out there, you can't help but he enamored. The Venom symbiote has fun banter and chemistry with Hardy, and the humor is on point. You've got Venom eating gangsters as people around him under-react, and he just shrugs it off with a one-liner. It's that type of thing, and, honestly, I love it. Like when the movie is Tom Hardy and Venom being goofy murder bros together, it's fun and engaging. Eddie himself is definitely more hero than villain, but Venom absolutely counts as far as I’m concerned, even if he is restrained by Eddie’s moral code by the end of it. It's exactly the type of ridiculous villain protagonist fantasy that it needed to be, and even though Venom isn't the main antagonist of his story, he's still easily my favorite villain of 2018... I have no idea what that says about me XD

Also I have all three of Spider-Man's big archenemies on this list in the reverse order that I usually like them XD That's fun lol

[tsarisfanfiction]

Tremor VII

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen/Mature Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Virgil Tracy, Scott Tracy, John Tracy, Alan Tracy, Gordon Tracy

Seventh and final part of my contribution to Hear from @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday challenge. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

So this was an absolute beast of a chapter to write.  There was enough potential content to be an entire fic in its own right, and maybe I’ll write that recovery fic one day, but for now I present this little glimpse of ‘what happened after’.

Virgil was jerked from his restless sleep by the sound of screaming.   The source wasn’t particularly difficult to identify, even with a sleep-fogged mind; after all, it was an all too common occurrence and had been as such for the past week.

Scott didn’t remember anything about his time with the Hood.  He’d told them, in a raspy, painful voice, that the last thing he recalled was the woman clinging to him tearfully, and then nothing until waking up in hospital, some two days after being rescued.  Unfortunately, it seemed his subconscious was not so amnesiac; amongst other things, Scott had yet to sleep a night through without being dragged out of it screaming.

“Scott!”  Virgil was at his side in moments, dodging flailing limbs to put a light hand on his brother’s chest.  “Scott, wake up!”  There wasn’t much he could do except wait for him to claw his way back into the waking world himself – they’d tried all manner of things in the days since bringing him home, but most seemed to do little but make him worse.  He ducked an arm that swung too close, aware that if Scott hit him, he’d do more damage to himself than Virgil.  “Scott!”

With a final cry, Scott heaved upright, eyes snapping open and staring at nothing in unconcealed terror.

“Scott?” he tried again, more softly.  “Scott?”

He watched as the terror receded, a softer, tired look replacing them.  Scott’s chest, initially rising and falling rapidly, fell back into a healthier rhythm, and after a blink he was back to himself, looking round at Virgil tiredly.

“Again?” he asked quietly, the hint of a rasp to his voice.  It was mostly gone now, the strong voice of their eldest brother recovering better than the rest of him, but after a night terror it always came back. Virgil nodded.

“Want a drink?” he offered, and watched Scott ease himself back down onto his reclined bed.  Another quirk – Scott couldn’t lie flat without panicking, resigning himself to an extended stay in the medical bay with hospital grade beds that allowed for a recline for the time being either until he could relax laying down again, or they replaced his bed with a recliner.

“Please.”  Virgil unwrapped a straw and put it in the waiting cup before holding it out.  Scott accepted it tentatively, loosely wrapping his healing fingers around it as best he could despite their minute tremors; Virgil didn’t let go.  He made a face at the taste of the water, lightly flavoured with honey and normally not at all to big brother’s tastes, but sipped at it regardless.  Another thing they’d learnt the hard way: Scott wouldn’t drink straight water, and panicked at the word.

Virgil didn’t know where the Hood was, and that was probably a good thing because if he did he’d be tempted to pay him a visit.  Gordon and Kayo had both informed him that the Hood was no longer a threat, and he would have to content himself with that, but seeing Scott panicking at the most supposedly-innocent of things was hard.  So hard.

“Did I say anything?” Scott asked, looking at him.  He wasn’t taking the gap in his memories well, not that Virgil could blame him. Waking up to both wrists and all fingers broken with no recollection of how they happened would have bothered anyone. Unfortunately for Scott, no-one who knew anything was talking, despite his demands to the contrary.

Gordon and Kayo had been tight-lipped about everything they’d no doubt seen, no matter what Scott said to them, and Virgil had no plans to ever let his biggest brother near the Hood again.

“Not that I heard,” Virgil told him, settling on the edge of the bed.  He never did, only screamed.  Scott frowned down at the cup.

A light knock sounded on the medical bay door, and John wandered in, their other brothers hot on his heels. Scott flushed, as he did whenever he realised he’d disturbed all of them, although Virgil suspected they’d all been awake anyway.  Just because they took it in turns to sleep in the medical bay with him didn’t mean they slept like a log in their own rooms.  He certainly didn’t.

“Mornin’,” Alan yawned, stumbling over until he reached Scott’s bed and curling up next to him on it. Scott gave him a soft look and shifted his arm to loop around him.  Assuming the drink was done with for the moment, Virgil retrieved it and placed it back on the table.

“Morning, Alan,” Scott returned, squinting around for the clock.  “What time is it, anyway?”

“Five oh five,” Gordon told him, huddling on the bed at his feet.  Barring Virgil, who was well aware it took all three of his not-bedbound brothers or Grandma to get him out of the room, Gordon was Scott’s most regular company. Even if he wouldn’t talk about what he’d seen, he’d definitely seen something, and the military persona he’d slipped into when Scott had gone missing hadn’t yet fully receded.  “Perfectly acceptable time to wake up.”  Virgil disagreed, but he wasn’t his insane brothers with their preference for crack of dawn workouts.

“Says you,” Alan mumbled, putting an arm around Scott loosely.

John pulled up a chair and positioned himself by Virgil.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked Scott, who shrugged and waved an arm, highlighting the various drips feeding into it – painkillers, relaxant, nutrition, all of which he needed in high doses.

“Not much of anything with these,” he pointed out.  John’s lips quirked up into a small grin.

“I suppose not,” he agreed, pulling up his tablet.  “You know, this time of morning might be perfectly acceptable for fishboys, but the rest of us aren’t going to be moving any time soon.”  Gordon pouted at him, but Alan proved his point by letting out a loud snore.  Scott glanced down at the youngest and gingerly manipulated him so he was leaning against him and unlikely to fall off the side of the bed.

“Teenagers.”  Gordon rolled his eyes, as though his age didn’t end with -teen, too.  Five in the morning was far too early to get into a debate over whether or not nineteen counted, and Virgil hurriedly smothered a yawn of his own.  Both his older brothers looked at him and he frowned back at them.

“Get some sleep, Virgil,” Scott insisted.  Virgil shook his head.

“If Scott goes to sleep will you go to sleep?” John bargained, only for Scott to turn on him.  Whatever protest he had died at the look on John’s face. Virgil couldn’t see it well from his angle, but he was pretty sure it was his stubborn one.

“Are you going to read them to sleep?” Gordon chipped in, and John raised an eyebrow.

“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed, and Gordon let out a bark of laughter.  Virgil groaned, and John looked at him challengingly.

The family dynamic shifted whenever John was home.  Not by much, and he was fairly sure their brothers barely noticed it, but then again they weren’t the ones being pushed from the position of second eldest when it happened.  When John was in space, all he had were words, and technology.  He could wield both to devastating effect – he wouldn’t be so good in space if he couldn’t – but it was with the full weight of his turquoise eyes in person that Virgil truly remembered that looking after their wayward eldest brother wasn’t solely his responsibility, and that he had two older brothers who would come down on him hard if they thought he was neglecting himself.  Scott’s bluntness could be brushed off.  John was like water, eroding away slowly but steadily until he got his way.  He didn’t raise his voice, turn things into a shouting match until someone backed down with a bruised ego.  He just looked, and that one look showcased the inevitability of the other caving, so why bother dragging it out unnecessarily?

Virgil yawned again, a traitorous reflex, and sent a glare back.  It had no effect on the big brother who had weathered many a “but Scott said” and “why?” in his life.  Not when all John had to do was glance at the big brother in question, who was eyeing him with outward concern, to win the silent battle.

Scott won’t rest until you do.

Using Scott against him was dirty, but no-one ever accused John of not being a manipulative devil when it suited him.  With an ill-tempered groan, because it was far too early in the morning to deal with all this no matter what Gordon said, Virgil dragged another chair over and slumped into it, reluctantly resting his head on crossed arms by Scott’s side.

“Thanks,” he heard Scott say quietly.  John’s reply was lost to the claws of sleep.

Virgil had been tortured by what-ifs ever since they’d realised Scott had been kidnapped.  What if he’d insisted they leave the site together?  What if he’d left Gordon with Scott?

What if they’d never found him?  What if he’d been killed and all Gordon and Kayo had dragged out of the Hood’s ship was a lifeless body?

Scott was home, safe but not yet sound.  Was that his fault?  Could he have done more?  Should he have noticed that the owner – the Hood – had his eyes on Scott?

Sleep was usually a good time for Virgil.  For the past few weeks, it had been anything but, and he roused again with heart pounding and Scott’s name on his lips to find the world was still dark.  John and Gordon had vanished, and Alan was still curled up against Scott’s side.  Scott himself looked to be asleep, breathing deep and even with his eyes closed. Compared to that first glimpse in Thunderbird Four, he looked positively healthy.

Virgil drank in the sight as he stretched his spine out.  Sleeping in chairs was never a good idea.  His subtle movements didn’t disturb either of his brothers, and he sighed. In a few hours, Scott would be awake enough to be agitated about his bedbound status.  He’d need a sponging down, too wary of a bath and panicky under a shower to try either of those methods again any time soon.  Bandages would need to be checked and changed, artificial skin to be eyed critically as it assisted with the regrowth of real skin on the worst-affected injuries.

Maybe they’d be able to get him to the den, Gordon’s nemesis the hoverchair waiting in the wings for a new passenger.  Pass a few hours with some family movies and appreciate that they hadn’t been fractured apart yet again.  Laugh and enjoy life, forget about the Hood rotting away in some WASP cell.

Maybe they could spend the day like that, no responsibilities, just a healing family together.  But for the moment, Virgil watched the brother he’d almost let slip through his fingers sleep, safe and getting-there-sound, and tried to forget the what-ifs that plagued him.

Fin

[r-fenghuang-fanfiction]

Coming to Terms Ch 037

Scott's ears twitch as Liam's breathing changes and Stiles puts down the manual he's highlighting.

"He's waking up?" The way Scott shifts closer to Liam is answer enough.

"Scott? Stiles?" Liam huffs, whole body feeling heavy and lungs compressed, choked with the smell of dead roses. It passes though and he feels fine, a little groggy.

"Hey, Buddy. How're you feeling?" Scott greets him softly, charmed by the way Liam's fingers clutch his sleeve.

"I'm still tired." Liam pouts, nearly and not quite whining.

"You're supposed to be in school." He accuses. Stiles steps forward then.

"Ah, we'll make it up. Besides, we kinda missed ya, Kid." His tone is teasing, like his fingers in Liam's hair.

"It's only been four months." Liam complains without pulling away.

"Yeah, but your hair grew out. And you met some new werewolves. And you never finished telling me about that history project you were working on." Scott lists each point out like every aspect of Liam's life has gravity, like Liam is the most important person in the world.

"I had to design my own ancient civilization. I added a lot of canals. I got an A." He babbles, glowing but sleepy.

"That's great, Liam." Scott responds warmly and Stiles adds:

"When you're a little more awake, you can show us. Just rest for now, though, okay? We'll get you something to eat." Liam brightens.

"Grilled-cheese? I like grilled-cheese sandwiches." His stomach rumbles in concensus. Stiles snorts.

"Yeah, Buddy. We'll get you a truck full." He laughs and Scott shifts back to make a face at him. Liam's grip tightens.

"Scott?" He implores, voice small.

"Yeah?" Scott answers, turning around again.

"Don't go." He murmurs, as young as he feels.

"I won't. I'm gonna stay right here with you."

"And Stiles. Stiles is also staying. Like, right here, y'know?" Scott gives him a side-eye but Liam beams back with a big, dopey grin.

"And Stiles. Stiles should stay. And Mason, Corey, Malia, Lydia, Kira, Hayden, Parrish, Theo... Everyone should stay. I wish everyone could stay." He starts to slur, sinking back under. Scott gives a slow, shaky exhale, brushing Liam's fringe back with calloused fingers. Blood soaked, clawed hands, dangerous.

He looks at Liam, seventeen, sugar sweet and, in that moment, completely unguarded. He'd turned a child into a soldier, just like Peter. He'd had to watch so many of his friends suffer and die, they'd lost so many and no matter who they saved it was never enough. Liam never should've had to go through that, but Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't glad to have Liam in his pack.

Strong and good and with the best of intentions-- More than that, he has faith. He has people he loves all around him, people who will fight for him and people he will survive for.

The world needs that.

"I'll go make him that grilled-cheese." Stiles assures him with a light grip on his shoulder.

"I'll call Mason." Scott answers, waiting for Stiles to leave before he speaks again.

"You could just come in, y'know. I won't try to send you back or anything." He almost laughs at the way Theo's pulse kicks up in alarm.

"How long have you known?" Theo grumbles, trying to make his voice smooth and uninvested, but distracted by the alpha and beta's tangled hands. Scott notes it without reacting.

"The whole time? You're good at hiding yourself, yeah, but your chemosignals are way stronger around Liam. You're lucky he doesn't pay much attention to them or he'd've figured you out a long time ago." Scott is too calm, too friendly, it aggravates Theo, makes his nostrils flare and his teeth grind.

"It doesn't bother you? What, you suddenly trust me now? I thought you hated me. You were willing and ready to put me in the ground not so long ago, what changed?" He accuses, defensive and wound up tight, wanting to lash out and not wanting to think about why.

"I don't hate you, Theo. You did a lot of damage, but I know you won't hurt Liam." Theo frowns, searching for deception and finding none. Scott doesn't hate Theo, never did, honestly. He can't quite make himself trust the chimera again, not yet, but when he looks at Liam... When he looks at them together, he sees a chance, a spark. Peter was so far gone, but he came back. Not entirely, but enough. Deucalian, the twins, Jackson, Derek-- They all came back. Maybe Theo will never truly be family, but already Scott can see how he cares for Liam. As long as Liam is caught in the crossfire, Scott knows Theo will keep his head down. One day Liam will take Scott's place and Theo will be good for him. He's proud of Liam. He's willing to forgive Theo in the interest of that.

Theo scowls.

"Have a seat while I call Mason." Scott implores, barest hint of a command in his low timbre. Theo climbs through the window and sits, tracking Scott's voice into the hall and attempting not to stare at the body in the bed.

He hates being outmanouvered.