#TFI fic

[hanktalkin]

Most common TF2 mistake is saying that the mercs work for MannCo. Mixup happens because what people are really trying to say they work for TFIndustries, which the is the parent company of both RED and BLU (but debatable whether they actually know that, as it depends on what continuity you’re following)

I think the confusion arose because both create in-game items, MannCo with the buyable products (jarate, MannCo crates, hats, etc.), while TFI provides the tech (Sentries, dispensers).

If your fic takes place before the robot wars, the mercs don’t work for MannCo/Saxton Hale yet, hence the specific comic of him hiring them (Sniper wants to know if they’re getting paid for this. They are not.) So they get transferred from RED/BLU to MannCo, another subsidiary of TFIndustries after which they work for Hale.

[dialux]

Flings myself into the inbox to ask about your Queens of Numenor fic, which. Okay there's so much I /could/ inquire about, there's so much crunch to that story, but- can I get commentary/director's cut on how you decided who each Queen should be?

(Ohtacare is 100% my favorite, but they're all just. So, so real.)

-crownlessliestheking

The fic in question!

Ask for a director's cut on my fics!

Oh yes, the Most Tragedique TM story I've ever written for Silm fandom lol. I started writing the story for Nienna in the Innumerable Stars fic exchange, and I need to give a lot of inspiration to that request summary, which set me off on a tangent re: dreams and magic. But as I started writing- initially the fic was going to be solely about Elros' wife, and maybe talk a little about the effect that being mortal and marrying someone who was effectively only mortal because he chose to be that way would have on a person- I also started grappling with what I've termed as the Tolkien Foresight Issue.

The TFI is very much a me problem, because I don't personally believe in predestination; the idea that elven mothers can genuinely hold their newborn in their arms and give them a name that describes something of their future genuinely frightens me as, like, a concept. I'd been wrestling with that idea for quite some time in my own head, but as I began writing this story I realized that this was a) the best medium possible for that tension, when unnamed/forgotten women are the primary povs (and of course, the unwanted and intrusive parts of the canonical narrative) and b) I was going to write about it one way or another, so might as well embrace it. Which led me to wanting to describe different reactions to the TFI- and for that, I needed more POVs than just Elros' wife.

Enter 24 other queens.

When I thought about individual perspectives, I started out by sketching out the queens whose characters I firmly knew; Eressecuina, for instance, but also Rilma, Ancalime, Tinolime, Vanimelde, Elenniel, and Inzilbeth. Then I started elaborating around those fixed points. For instance: Rilma has an antagonistic relationship with Almarian, who in turn makes an effort to be closer to Erendis, who in turn values freedom more than safety (i.e. the opposite of Almarian's choices), which influences Ancalime's perspective.

Elenniel's storyline was inspired by me wanting to explore what could have inspired a sharp break from the Quenya to Adunaic between Ardamin and Adunakhor: I just think that having it be a product of this one woman's (unnamed, forgotten, erased) actions made a lot of sense. Elenniel herself is one of my favorites in the story, tbqh; she's so secure in her love for her husband (and, in turn, his love for her) that she can bear to be more rebellious than many of the other queens. But she's also seeing the degeneration of Numenor from its heights- which began with Herucalmo, who usurps the throne and lets his son/grandson grow up in Umbar instead of Numenor-proper (thereby letting more rebellious anti-Valar sentiment foster)- and she loves Numenor enough to want more than what it has. But I also wanted someone to have gone through what she went through before while making the opposite choice, which is why Ohtacare exists at all lol.

The rest of the story just flowed from those fixed queens I mention above- apart from that, I knew I wanted a warrior queen, and a scholarly queen, and that the majority of the legacies of the queens would be tapestries; I also wanted at least one queen from Umbar and another from Harad. I think it's fairly obvious which ones were central to the storyline- Meluviel, for instance, doesn't play that much of a role, and neither does Gimileth or Handasse- but they were valuable to portray other nuances re: the TFI.

And, really, even more than the character itself, I defined the queens by their reaction to the TFI (which, in-story, is the nightmare of the destruction of Numenor). I a) thought it was INCREDIBLY sexy to think of Numenor's drowning to be inevitable, bc what does that say about the Valar, that they could see the ending but still chose to put Numenor in sight of Valinor? Abt the ppl that follow the Valar even after the destruction of the entire island? Abt the idea that even if something is to die one day, there is something beautiful in it now? and b) to picture the queens fighting against it, accepting it, furthering it, ignoring it, etc etc. 25 POVs of different women having wildly different reactions. I have an excel sheet somewhere where I described some of that lmao. That and the dates. Of people's birth dates, death dates, ruling dates, age when ascending to the crown........ yeah. Idk if I've ever worked so much to make a fic canon compliant tbqh!

[the-fox-inc]

The Fox Inc Public Transparency Board

Welcome to the headquarters of my wonderful enterprise, where we produce coffee at rates unimaginable and it is still not enough...

The IRA was bugging us to divulgue everything we produce publicly, something about transparency and disclosure policies to maintain anti-corruption laws or something, so here is a megapost about everything this enterprise has to offer as of today.

Now the IRA can stop bugging me about this…

My socials

ao3

Reddit

Twitter (kinda dead)

DeviantArt (also kinda dead)

WIPs

Bloody Curses - DreamSMP/OriginsSMP fic Technoblade finds himself stranded in the Nether with Philza after a poor attempt at exploring a Nether fortress, but it was something to be expected in a excursion to the hellish dimension. What wasn't expected was that now Techno was a massive hoglin, and Philza thinks he is a normal mob.

Heart of Steel (Reddit only) - Original Story Hunter has a simple objective, seek and kill every hostile his eyes come in contact with. He won't stop until all of them are dead, that is all that is left for him - Revenge. But a single normal mission from the hunters association may change that, when he comes into contact with an AI that has too big of a heart.

Der Preis der Freiheit - (ao3 onlu ) Attack On Titan fic [hiatus] Eren Yeager was a child that lived a simple life. He had a good friend and parents that loved him with all their hearts. He didn't know how much he would long for the simple days his mother would punish him for being a little brat, seeing just how important they truly were when he turned into a monster, and had to flee from everything he considered to be a given in his life.

One Shots/Writing Prompts

Poorly Disguised Mimic - Writing Prompt (Word Count: 5K) Jhon had one job. He had to find shelter for his party so they could hide after stealing important documents from a noble. But now, his new personal mission is to find a way to explain to his party why a bed mimic started to follow him around

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Message for Workers - If a Margaret comes asking any of you something about TFI tell her our company burned down to the ground and is exterminated, ended, done, nada. - Failure to comply will result in reduced coffee breaks

[ks-caster]

The Future is Infinite (Chapter 3)

Chapter-specific warnings: brief non-graphic reference to self-harm

Start || Previous

Octavia turned to dash the opposite direction down the hallway from where the man stood, but another portal opened up, and no matter which direction she swung her head, he was in front of her. She drew her sword, baring her teeth. She didn’t want to kill some random civilian - magical abilities or otherwise - but if she didn’t get out into the open air NOW she was going to start ripping her own skin off. Except that the infinity thing merged with her body would probably heal her instantly…

She wasn’t sure what happened in the next few seconds - she only knew that somewhere along the line she misplaced her sword and wound up sobbing into the man’s red robes. He wrapped his arms around her, then maneuvered them a few steps before she finally collapsed. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noticed that she could feel a breeze. Wherever they were, he’d brought her outside.

It took only a few minutes for her to cry herself out. She had a lifetime’s experience in keeping her hysterics to a quiet and controlled minimum.

“At least eat something before you go charging off again,” the man suggested when it became clear that she was becoming aware of her surroundings again. Octavia leaned back, sitting on her knees and wiping irritably at her face. “I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge if you’re not picky.”

Too many things were happening today without her consent. One minute she was being put into cryosleep by her brother who still sort of wanted her dead, and the next she was sitting at the strange man’s - Wong, his name was Wong - kitchen table, eating a bowl of admittedly tasty reheated soup and staring out the window at the passing traffic. The street was full of automobiles, with foot traffic off to either side.

“You’re in London, by the way,” Wong commented, ladling more soup into her bowl unprompted. “Nearly 4000 miles from where you landed.”

“Sounds like you went to a lot of trouble to get me here,” Octavia responded coolly, spooning up more soup.

“Eh, not really,” Wong shrugged, filling a bowl for himself and sitting down opposite her. “Stephen said that there were a lot of possible futures where you jumped out the window, and asked me to stand by and catch you when you did.”

“Thought I was supposed to be immortal now,” she checked tonelessly, polishing off her second bowl.

“Immortal, yes,” Wong agreed. “Immune to shattering all the bones in your legs, not so much. Immune to the bone-headed tendency to try and keep running on them?” Octavia huffed something that might have been the ghost of a laugh.

“Fourteen-million futures, huh?” she murmured, leaning back in her chair. “How many did he tell you about?”

“Only that you’d jump out the window,” Wong responded. “That you're currently sharing a body with an infinity stone, that you definitely have post-traumatic stress disorder, and that you’d be hungry when you arrived. Oh, and that it’s a gross misstep in karma that the fate of the universe is on your shoulders again,” he added, like it was an afterthought. Octavia huffed another laugh.

“Yeah, did he tell you how bad I fucked that up the last time?” Wong shook his head.

“I don’t think that was what he was getting at,” he said kindly. “Look,” he continued, standing up and retrieving a singing kettle off of the stove to make a pot of tea. “I know what a person looks like who's been dropped way in over their head and is looking for a way out. And I know what a person looks like who's still got plenty of fight left in them, no matter how much they don’t understand. 

“You don’t seem like someone whose fight is over just yet. And I’m not just saying that because Stephen gave me spoilers,” he preempted when she opened her mouth to make a snarky comment. “I’ve been in this business far longer than he has,” he continued, setting the full teapot and a pair of cups on the table, and sitting down closer to her than he’d been before. “I’ve seen wannabe heroes come and go, regimes rise and fall. I’ve lost comrades in arms and gained more. 

“I also know what a thousand-yard stare looks like, although yours is perhaps the youngest face where I’ve seen it.” He poured two cups of tea, sliding one towards her and taking a slow sip from his own.

“And just like that, you think I’m going to save the world for you?” she asked bluntly, taking a sip of her own. It was sharp and earthy - different from the teas she remembered. She didn’t dislike it, and took another sip.

“Just like that, I don’t think you have it in you to stop yourself,” he responded quietly. They locked eyes for a long moment.

“And if you’re wrong?” she challenged, setting her cup down and raising an eyebrow.

“Then we will fight without you. Others like you will stand between the innocent and their doom.”

“But they’ll fail,” she murmured, remembering Peter’s exact words. 14 million futures, and only one where they win.

“Has the fear of failure ever stopped you, I wonder?” Wong chortled, refilling his cup and topping off hers. She glared at him for a long moment before chugging the whole thing in one go.

“No,” she agreed, setting her cup down firmly. “No it hasn’t.” 

-0-

“So, how screwed are we if she doesn’t come back?” Tony sighed, leaning dangerously back in his chair.

“She’ll come back,” Strange repeated for the eleventh time in an hour. “She has a lot to process, but she’s not the kind of person who would ignore the doom of the universe.”

“You’re awfully sure for being part of what scared her away in the first place,” Sam quipped.

“We need to focus and regroup,” Steve interjected before a proper argument could break out. “Thanos isn’t just going to leave four out of six stones here on Earth.”

“Which is why we need to get them off of earth ASAP,” Tony tossed in, standing up and pacing around, heedless of his recently repaired gut wound.

“Here we have the home-field advantage,” Rhodey began, but Steve shook his head.

“Here we have the collateral damage disadvantage,” he reminded them. Tony’s jaw dropped for a moment before he collected himself. Of all the miracles to happen today, Steve Rogers agreeing with him wasn’t one he’d expected. “While we appreciate King T’Challa’s hospitality and willingness to evacuate the capital city so we can use it as a battlefield, we can’t keep doing that long term.”

“So we take the fight to the big purple bastard,” Octavia’s voice rang out, and everyone turned quickly to see her standing in the doorway of the throne room, lounging against the frame. “He’ll go wherever the magical glow rocks go, right?” she checked, standing up straight and sauntering into the room as if she hadn’t fled the building a weepy and out of control mess less than an hour ago.

“He’s been single-mindedly seeking out the Infinity Stones my whole life,” a petite blue-skinned woman agreed tonelessly from where she sat against the wall, sharpening a wicked dagger.

“Sounds like great trap potential,” Octavia finished, arriving at the table in the center of the room and pressing her palms lightly against the frame to lean forward.

“He’d destroy us in a heartbeat,” the deep voice that had feared for her life while she slipped in and out of consciousness argued. It belonged to a tall blond man dressed in scale armor and a red cape - his eyes eerily mismatched. He leaned on the handle of a massive ax.

“He can’t destroy me,” Octavia shot back, looking to where Dr. Strange sat. “Isn’t that right, Doctor?”

“Not permanently,” Strange began, a pained look passing through his eyes, “but he can hurt you.”

“Not permanently sounds like ‘no’ to me,” she cut him off. On an intellectual level she knew that the man allegedly knew exactly how everything about this fight was ‘meant’ to go down, and that she should probably listen to him and go with whatever he said. But it rubbed her the wrong way, being expected to obey the wishes of a man she didn’t know, who apparently knew everything about her, and had expected and planned around her help since before she was even out of cryo. It felt sickeningly familiar, and made her skin crawl again.

“If you know everything about me,” she added, walking right up to him to look up into his face, “then you know I don’t hold back. I don’t take prisoners. I don’t bargain. 

“And I’m no hero.”

“I’m aware,” the Doctor responded with a nod, and she was impressed that he didn’t take even one step back, “that all but one of those is the truth. But for now, until you’re comfortable with the idea, I’ll remove hero as a descriptor. We’ll just say you’re a damn good villain and leave it at that.” Octavia’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t a concession. But she suspected with this crowd it was the best she was going to get.

“As long as you know it’s the devil you’re making a deal with,” she growled, taking a step back out of his personal space and returning her focus to the strategy session.

-0-

“So,” Octavia greeted Steve once the session was concluded. Strange had assured them that Thanos would take at least several weeks to heal Octavia’s mutilation of his arm, not to mention completing repairs to the gauntlet, so no drastic steps needed to be taken that night. “Horrible first, second and third impression. I actually think I’m setting a record.” Steve laughed ruefully and clapped her on the shoulder. Behind him, Bucky made a strangled noise of protest, and both of them looked back at him.

“The last guy to make a grab at her gets thrown across the room,” Bucky growled, flinging his hands up once he realized they were waiting for a translation, “but does that stop Steve Rogers and his general lack of survival instincts? No sir it does not.”

“Hey now,” Steve started as Octavia snorted with laughter. “I’m sure she was just upset. We threw a lot at her at once.”

“I’m glad you’re sure,” she quipped back, “‘Cause I have no idea how I did any of that.”

Bucky gestured at her and glared at Steve in moody victory. Steve removed his hand from her shoulder and raised both in mock surrender. 

“So this is normal behavior?” She checked, gesturing at him with a circular hand motion. Bucky’s long-suffering sigh and nod earned him a playful elbow in the ribs from Steve.

“For the last ninety-odd years,” he continued, batting away Steve’s elbow with practiced ease. 

“Ninety?” Octavia repeated incredulously. “Evolutionary ancestor nothing, shit…”

“I was frozen in a shipwreck for most of it,” Steve backtracked. “If you count only the years where I was awake and aging, I’m 35. Actually, we have that in common, right? Strange said you were cryogenically frozen for a hundred and seven years, right? For the trip here from your home planet?” If Bucky thought Octavia was going to miss his slight flinch and the guarding of his eyes at the words 'cryogenically frozen’ then he had another thing coming, but she chose not to comment.

“Yep. Alive and aging for 23 years - 24 maybe,” she added thoughtfully. “My birthday’s was coming up…” she trailed off, thinking back to the last horrible week. How many actual days had it been? She counted in her fingers, stopping when she noticed the two men exchanging looks. “What?” she asked flatly.

“You’re younger than you sound,” Bucky responded. “You’re obviously used to command,” he added quickly as if age was somehow an insult.

“Strange didn’t tell you I was a queen?” she checked, wondering what details about her life the magical busybody had shared and what he might have mercifully hidden. 

“Oh,” Steve remembered, “I guess he did call you ‘your majesty.’” Octavia waved a hand dismissively, hoping that didn’t catch on.

“I didn’t use that title,” she corrected, “and I abdicated the throne… yesterday, a century ago,” she listed out. “The point I’m making is I was the highest authority on my planet for the last six years, so yeah I’m used to command.”

“You started when you were seventeen?” Steve calculated quickly. She nodded, stopping and turning to a door, having reached the room T’Challa had said would be hers.

“The current Heda is 12,” she added with a grimace, “but she’d got plenty of adults who will actually work to keep her out of major battles and other danger, so hopefully she’ll be all right.” She cringed, thinking of Madi waking up on that ship, suddenly in charge of a volatile mix of warriors and criminals, and wondered not for the first time since waking up if she should bite the bullet and go back, if only to make sure no one was letting the kid get in over her head…

“No one tried to keep you out of harm’s way?” Steve checked quietly, lingering by the next door over. Apparently they were neighbors. Octavia smirked.

“Haven’t you been paying attention, Rogers?” she murmured darkly. “I am harm’s way.” The door opened smoothly under her hand, and she entered the suite.

The far wall was one huge floor-to-ceiling window. Octavia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and walked past the door to the bathroom and the large soft-looking bed to look out at the view of the town and surrounding forest. Upon closer inspection, some of the panes were actually hinged and opened out onto a balcony. 

She flung the doors open to let the warm fresh air in and took a moment just to breathe. With access to the outside like this, it was obvious that they weren’t treating her like a prisoner or a suicide risk - something she hadn’t let herself think about too hard when she’d decided to come back. She’d born terrible conditions and agonizing pain to save the world before; she could bear them again if she had to.

Knowing that she didn’t have to, at least not here, at least not yet, was enough relief to push her to her knees in the doorway.

Once she got ahold of herself, she checked around the room, glaring up at the ceiling for any signs of the spider-like boy who’d snuck up on her in medical. Unless he could also transform himself to the size of an actual spider (and keep his mouth shut long enough to avoid discovery) he wasn’t there.

The bathroom had a huge bathtub - long enough for her to lay flat in the bottom if she wanted, and deep enough that water would cover her shoulders when she sat up. There had been a tub in her quarters in the bunker, but it had been much smaller, and she’d known better than to strain the water reclamators for a luxury. 

The closet had a few sets of clothes in it - plain shirts and pants, a long thick cloak, and a suit of armor that looked like a version of what she’d seen Bucky wearing - heavy dark blue leather strips woven together to protect the warrior's torso; metal guards for the shoulders and forearms covered in dark brown leather to match the pants. Like those she wore, these had many pockets, but unlike hers, she could feel that the fabric was much hardier. Strong enough to turn away a blade, she suspected. They would also fit her more closely, rather than shifting around constantly when she moved. 

The dark brown overshirt Niylah had found for her was also hanging innocently in the closet, and she whirled to the rest of the room, noticing the bag sitting on an end table, along with her dagger, which someone must’ve retrieved from the battlefield.

“Does the magical snooping never end?” she muttered, not sure if she was glad to have her survival supplies near at hand in case she needed to run, or disturbed at the confirmation that Strange had known that she wanted to, and had preempted like this. Sighing, she set her sword down against the table, and went to work on the buckles of her own armor. 

To Be Continued...

[ravs6709]

Me: Okay, so fanfic will be maybe 10k words, and it should only take around a few months to finish

Fanfic: *is over 10k words and is maybe 1/3 finished, will not be finished in a while*

[hankwritten]

TFComics Rewrite

I am currently plotting an outline for a TFComics, and I want to get my thoughts about fixes to canon and possibly get feedback. Since this is a rewrite there’s really no *spoilers* or anything, so I’m willing to answer all questions about what I plan to do. Also some characters I’m not so sure about how I want to retool them, so if your have ideas for your fav let me know!

Disclaimer:

This rewrite is intended to critique the content/choices made in the construction and telling of the Team Fortress 2 comic series. It is not a personal attack on the artists/writers/directors or any of the creatives that made contributions to this series, nor is it meant to substitute or replace the official release. This work is transformative in nature, and relies on an understanding of the source material to be understood. TF2 and its characters belong to Valve.

TFCR is working on the assumption that the audience has read the original comic, and as such will skip over scenes and plot points that are unchanged from the original. I don’t think it needs to be said, but this fanfiction will not make sense if you are not familiar with the source.

I also recognize that there are strengths within the comic’s writing and weaknesses within my own. Namely, that Valve writers are gods in the realm of comedy, and I’d rather not try to match them in the regard. As such, I will state up front that these will not be as funny as the TFComics. That is not to say there won’t be jokes (either ones transplanted from the source or some of my own) or that the tone of this will be terribly grimdark, only that my focus will be on improving story structure and character development as those are what appeal to me.

 The Broad Strokes

The goal of TFCR is to give a more engaging story for all the mercenaries we know and love, as--let’s face it--the TF2 mercs are side characters in their own damn story. These are some of the planned improvements.

There will be reason for each of the mercs to actually be there. As it stands, the motivations for almost every character besides Pauling and Saxton Hale are vague and unsatisfying. We’d usually say something along the lines of “money” for hired killers, but clearly Scout doesn’t even know if they’re getting paid, and some of the other characters are even worse. The hunt for the Australium is, therefore, boring. MacGuffins usually are, but at the very least the characters should care about the item even if the audience doesn’t. This work aims to give each of the nine mercs a motive and a reason to be in the story instead of just replaceable joke dispensers.

Explain what “Team Fortress” means, and how it relates to RED and BLU. Long and short: the nine mercenaries we see on the team are not from either RED or BLU but rotate between the two, and were the individuals selected to fight the robots. That means all things do happen to all characters. As Valve pretty much goes with “whatever is funniest at the time”, it’s very hard to make a cohesive theory about “where the hell is BLU team?”, but I’ll do my damndest. We’ll also examine Team Fortress’s relationship with the other capital T Teams, and why they’re considered the “rejects” of the bunch.

Comics 1 & 2 will be removed from the timeline as they serve no purpose, only taking what needs to be known about the plot’s setup and jumping straight to A Cold Day in Hell.

We will introduce the Classic Mercs right away so they can generate threat and play against the TF mercs when they do actually meet head to head.

We will not be killing off Gray Mann. (Not preemptively anyway.) In fact, there will be more focus on him and Olivia as villains facing off against the Admin, providing her foil as the TF2 and TFC mercs provide foils for each other.

I considered waiting until the final comic was out to begin working on this, but that may never happen. Jay Pinkerton said he may reveal what plot they had in store eventually, but considering it took Half Life over a decade to get the “I was once a Valve writer but my NDA has expired and now I can go buck wild” treatment, I’m not holding my breath. The main reason I wanted to do this is that the Administrator’s motivations are not interestingly foreshadowed, to the point where there aren’t even any good fan theories out there. That said, WritingDispenser and Riddle of the Sphinx helped come up with a pretty fun one, which was actually the inspiration for me to get off my butt and start plotting this.

There will be no queerbaiting. This refers both to HeavyMedic (which has been simultaneously used as wink wink nudge nudge joke many times and as encouragement for fans to play their stupid hat game) as well as lesbian Pauling (since femme lesbians are the preferred method for front facing LGBT representation across almost all media, but video games especially). If you need to understand why lesbian Pauling is an issue, Sarah Z coined the term “queercatching” in order to describe word of god confirmations on characters sexualities that are not followed up on in the text. I recommend the full video on it.

Due to the importance of immortality in the theming of the comics, respawn will not be a thing. Deaths we think should have happened previously will be explained as close calls, or that Medic can heal a short time after death. Medic and Scout’s deaths will be cut in the story itself, as after Sniper died and came back, them doing the same thing kinda lost their punch.

Scout

There will be no ScoutPauling hints. It doesn’t make sense to give screentime to this relationship because Valve obviously doesn’t think it’s going to go anywhere so why make Scout turn down advances from other hot women? I mean I get Expiration Date was a Thing but it feels like Scout’s whole motivation shouldn’t be reduced down to chasing a girl who doesn’t like him back.

He’s here because he lost his life’s savings in bad investments and needs the money. That’s it. Which is still somehow more than his canon motive which is question mark question mark question mark

He, Soldier, Spy, Demo, and Pyro all start the adventure with Miss Pauling.

Engages with Heavy on a genuine level when they go to collect him, Heavy doesn’t blow him off when he tries to level about dead dads.

There will be no DadSpy reveal. The way Spy treats Scout has never been “deadbeat dad feels bad about abandoning his kid” but more “this is someone I would kill without a second thought if I felt like it” which makes his reveal in comic 5 feel very disingenuous. I don’t think Valve even had this plotline in mind until comic 3, as #2 still has Spy seeming only to care about Scout’s Ma and not Scout himself. It also makes “seduce me!” retroactively weird.

Uhhh hooks up with Zhanna. This one isn’t critical I just think it’s funny.

Soldier

Soldier is going to be the Ur example of the Admin not treating her people well, as we’re going to lean into the whole “Soldier was only mildly messed up until the whole lead poisoning” thing.

He’s here because he’s blindingly loyal to the cause. He’s actually going to very little from canon because of this actually.

Might be the reason Team Fortress has a reputation of being the lower tiers of the Teams, but that doesn’t mean he’s damn good at his job. Fatal flaw is that he’s unstable, and even though the courthouse plotline won’t be in this fic, it should be noted that he actually does cause problems for the other protagonists due to his short temper. He’s a risky asset, but still essential.

There will be a minor explanation for the WAR! Comic, but I think that’s better saved for Demo’s analysis.

Pyro

Pyro is the character you could cut entirely from the comics and have the least change. Now, they’re going to be Pauling’s right hand. Let me explain.

Engineer and Pyro are implied to live together, and Pyro doesn’t have anything better to do than go with Engie after Team Fortress is disbanded. Rather than having a reveal, we will see some of what is going on with the Admin and friends early on, and see what leads up to her sending Miss P the note that kicks off the whole plot. However, while Engie needs to stay and look after her, Pyro’s skills aren’t useful here, and they are sent as a direct messenger to help Pauling.

They’re loyal, and unlike Soldier rarely mess up orders. They’re also partially mute, making them ideal for handling sensitive info. Pauling trusts them to handle the burning of “Elizabeth’s” paper trail.

Will be using they/them in the narrative voice, but other characters will refer to them as he/him. I considered going with it/its because that’s bubbled up in popularity again, but ultimately I decided against it.

We’ll get glimpses to their train of thought, but like the comics they will remain virtually silent.

Demo

Demo’s role in the cast is going to be very similar to Spy’s. The events of WAR! involved him nearly dying and Soldier taking the win, and he’s very bitter that after all those events *apparently* mercs can just be switched around teams willy nilly and don’t have to kill each other anymore. (As the audience, we know this is because the Admin found out the “make them so angry they won’t ask questions” wasn’t a long-term viable solution, and instead brought TFI forward as a neutral third party that was pretending to mediate the gravel wars.) But Demo’s suspicious, and is only along because he really has been miserable since he lost his job.

This conflict will eventually come to a head, more on that in the Sniper section.

Is fairly forgiving with his teammates. Doesn’t like Sniper but I’m willing to drop a little angst during that submarine scene. Is glad to see Medic actually. Here to be some glue to hold this merry band together.

The Eyelander will not be forgotten after 2 comics because I love this character concept and I think it was underutilized.

Drunk jokes will be kept to a minimum. What I liked about WAR! and Bombinomicon was that it took Demo and showed that they knew how to make him funny without making him one note, which they sort of did in the early TFComics but stopped in the later ones in favor of him….being asleep for the whole plot. I promise 100% awake Demo in my rewrite.

Demo likes Pauling on a personal level, but has trouble reconciling her with his feelings on TFI.

Doesn’t get knocked out by moonshine because. Seriously? Poisoning the Demoman with alcohol? In what world does that work.

Heavy

Not too much to change. Scout doesn’t accompany him when he goes to look for the secret Australium cache, and he engages with Mags and Saxton (which will be when the audience finds out what they’ve been up to) and actually cares about what’s going on with them. He thinks Darling is up to something. Which he is, he’s attempting to unseat both Gray and Helen due to long family history.

Will at least mention Medic. Their reunion falls a little flat since it mostly relies on Meet the Medic for context, as they don’t really interact in the comic. There can be a bit of a flashback to what it was like as all these mercs broke up.

I know uhhh Valve seems to think found family is really dumb, and that these murderers could ever like each other is silly or something, but the mercs do? Like each other? For the most part anyways. 

Bronislava and Yana come alone for adventures, not just Zhanna. Again, no real reason, but sometimes I get to have tacky fanfic stuff in my own fanfic because I Wanna.

Engineer

Engie ruminates on his family history of allowing all this bullshit to happen and just kind of shrugging. Basically Moss’s analysis of the Conagher themes.

Has put a lot of time, sweat, and tears into BLU and now TFI, isn’t willing to let it fall now, even if Admin is basically living on borrowed time. He’s doing this because of the ‘ole sunk cost fallacy.

Also we get to see more of Pauling and Admin’s relationship through his eyes.

Medic

Congrats on being the one merc with an actual arc, Medic! As a reward, you will not be changed much.

I’m actually going to use Medic’s section to say that the Classic mercs will be referred to by their first names in order to differentiate them, and we’ll get little previews of what they’re like from Medic’s perspective before we actually see them fight Team fortress. The battle at the submarine will be more of a fight in this sense, working it out so it seems like surrender is the only option after Sniper is killed.

Final fight with Cheavy will be...not blocked so awkwardly. I mean this is now a textual medium so my work is already halfway done, but still the pacing is so weird. Shudder.

Sniper

These are the big guns. Most changes, even more than Demo. He’s been actually hunting for New Zealand/the Australium cache on his own, and doesn’t want Pauling interfering, saying for a he knows she could have been the ones to kill his adoptive parents.

(She hasn’t, but the Admin did actually order them killed in an attempt to stop Sniper because she thought she could prevent the exact thing that is going on right now which is that Sniper is considering trying to get at it.)

Sniper doesn’t know this, but Pauling, Demo, and Spy eventually convince him to share his findings and help them get to New Zealand.

Spy

Similar to Demo but is less conflicted about it. He knows just because he likes someone doesn’t mean he won’t have to kill them later. 

Spy knows about who killed Sniper’s parents, and tells Demo, sort of as a test to see where his loyalties lie. He also knows that Pyro is Pauling’s confidant for certain things.

Demo questions him about what he’s doing here, whose side he’s really on. But you know. Spy is Spy and he was never really on anyone’s side but his own. When it comes down to it, it might be exactly as Scout thinks: that he’s ditched them all and run off when he had the opportunity. But, big damn hero, comes back in the end.

He’s here mainly to “keep an eye on things.” Also maybe because his gf asked him to keep an eye on her son :)

[staboteur]

//i suddenly want to do a modern au where rene’s a youtuber

//but like it’s set where TFI does exist, but like... it gets disbanded, and all the mercs are (obviously) out of work. Someone (idk who) recommends that rene watch those like... buzzfeed videos where they interview ex criminals about stuff they used to do or those like ‘ex hacker reacts to hacking scenes in movies’ or ‘ex mafia member reacts to mafia movies’ or ‘ex thief plays GTA’, and that kinda like.. inspires him to try his own youtube channel, bc like he knows that can make some money on the side while he’s between jobs, and it gives him a way to kinda... hide his perhaps less legal business, bc he can just write it in his taxes as sponsorship money or something so like hiding in plain sight, basically? which i think is actually pretty genius, not that I recommend that anybody go out and do tax fraud, but rene’s the sneaky type, and although i personally definitely believe people can change for the better, change is also slow, and rene’s an old man, he’s not about to change his thieving ways quite yet

//his first video was probably something like ‘ex alleged-assassin reviews assassin’s creed’ lmao and like the running joke of his channel is that he always puts the words ‘alleged’ in front of everything so he can stay in that sort of legal grey area where he didn’t actually admit to being an assassin but like everyone knows yeah, this guy’s murdered people before

//or i guess it can be like ‘ex spy reacts to james bond’ (which would be hilarious imo)

//either way just... videos like that. idk it can probably be a fic or a drabble or something but the idea is just so fun to me idk

//or... if this is still like the 60s-70s, it could be like one of those fun little advice column things, like the ones where people mail in questions. So he’d have a column where he gives people advice from the POV of a spy, and it’s mostly stuff like “if you can get away with it, poison his tea, because that sort of scum doesn’t deserve you. If you aren’t able to procure a lethal poison and deliver it without being caught, I recommend talking to him, because communication between friends is very important, especially when it’s clear this issue has been festering in your mind for a very long time now. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, for people like me), nobody can read minds, so if you say nothing, he will know nothing.”

[deviantexe-blog]

hi your tags reminded me that false immortals was a thing and now im weeping gently in a public bathroom stall in my college's science center. i didnt even reread the fic, the memory of the ending just hit me so vividly and powerfully that my brain decided it was Sad Time. why is your prose so gorgeous that i can still recall specific gut-punch lines word for word. why cant they both just be happy. i hate you

you’re talking about this post. honestly, i’d apologize, but i’m not at all sorry.

… no, that’s a lie, i’m actually very sorry, please don’t cry! i worked hard on making that ending an emotionally impactful one and i’m really glad it had that effect. some stories just don’t end well. i will say that i want to revisit the tfi verse in some capacity one day—maybe i’ll give ezra a softer ending. he deserves much better than i gave him.

anyway, i know you hate me (/s) but i’m all smiley at that compliment, so thank you for yelling at me about my dumb self-indulgent fic, and i love you.

(if anyone’s interested, this is the fic in question! if you ever wondered what happened to the 50 models before connor, the false immortals is the fic for you.)

[ks-caster]

The Future is Infinite (Chapter 6)

Chapter-Specific Warnings: moderately graphic gore, non-graphic magical torture

Start || Previous

Navigating around rivulets of lava probably should have been a little more thrilling than it was. Wong had dropped them off on a hillside, a 5-minute walk from where Nebula’s sensors showed the fleet was parked. 

“Why can’t we just magic portal our way inside?” Peter asked when Nebula showed a map of the terrain they’d need to cross.

“The ships’ defenses are designed with portals in mind,” Nebula explained curtly. “Nothing short of the Bifrost or the Space Stone itself could penetrate.”

Nebula led them towards the huge ship, and the fleet of smaller vessels being released from it to open their fueling vents - each taking a turn docking at a more permanent-looking structure built into the side of a gently spewing volcano. Octavia felt half-naked, running around an alien planet in casual clothes and ballet flats, nothing but a barely-visible forcefield between her and enough heat to melt lead on contact. She knew that her armor wouldn’t really protect her in this scenario, but she would have felt better, having it on. The comforting weight of her sword at her back was small consolation. 

The four of them crouched behind a rocky outcropping, discussing how best to get to the detention area of the ship without being detected. Octavia kept watch, listening while her eyes tracked everything that moved around them. Some of the smaller ships were triangular, and others were massive loops. 

“Just make sure you stay out of grabbing range,” Nebula reminded Peter. “If they rip the field pod off your back, you’ll cook in your suit in minutes.”

“West side of the fleet, start causing a distraction in 5 minutes, meet back here, don’t get cooked. Got it,” Peter listed before slipping around the rocks and running, low and fast, to get to the designated distraction point. Wong wrapped a web of golden light around himself, and when the light dimmed, he was barely visible. Octavia scuffed out the map Nebula had drawn in the dirt, and all three of them ran quietly towards the Sanctuary II.

-0-

It didn’t take long at all to slip onto the massive ship; Nebula lead them unerringly to a supply room where they slipped into whatever armor they could find to camouflage themselves. Like the kings of old, she’d described while drawing the map, Thanos had designed his ship with servant passageways, so that the people bringing his breakfast and mopping up the training rooms wouldn’t need to be visible among the warriors and allies who he believed deserved to be there.

“What a prick,” Peter had muttered, sounding very, very young even through his suit. As Octavia followed the blue woman through the detention level of the ship, she finally understood why Nebula had insisted that Peter be the distraction, rather than using his stealth skills with the team and letting Octavia run around and kill people outside.

No child, no matter how powerful, belonged anywhere near here.

They took care to keep their steps measured and even, soldiers marching in a familiar direction, following familiar orders. It was difficult not to look between the bars; to glimpse the faces of the poor souls trapped here. Maybe they should have brought the whole team, Octavia thought, her heart twisting. But, she reminded herself, there wouldn’t have been near enough space suits to rescue this many people. 

When they defeated Thanos, that would have to be rescue enough.

The codes were changed out regularly, according to Nebula’s briefing, but they followed a predictable pattern. They had to, when one had so many dumb lackeys wandering around the ship, she’d added, lip curling in disgust. Her deft metal fingers typed a code in on a pad, and the door to what she’d described as the high-profile section whirred open. The three of them marched in, and Octavia had to work to control her breathing when the door clanged shut behind them. She wasn’t trapped, she reminded herself sternly - Nebula had given her the code to get out, and if that didn’t work, she could always just kill people until someone opened the door to escape. She swallowed, squared her shoulders, and followed Nebula to the little electrical room directly next to the main interrogation cell.

Octavia and Wong were silent as Nebula carefully untangled wires, plugging one and then another into ports in her forearm. The woman’s eyes were unfocused, her shoulders and jaw just a bit too set, and her breathing far too shallow for Octavia to believe she was okay. Maybe Strange had assumed she had PTSD because so many other people around him clearly did, she thought, remembering Stark barely staving off a breakdown. Wong reached up a hand and gently clasped Nebula’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin.

Octavia leaned against the wall, where she could just peer out the door and into the cell. She saw Strange, clearly unconscious, on the way in, but they’d ducked away before being spotted by the two beings in the cell with him. From her vantage point, what she could see was a smaller cage, containing what she thought was the Doctor’s red cloak. It was moving, apparently on its own, trying to either break the door open or find a gap in the chain link sides large enough to squeeze through. So far, it was unsuccessful.

“Let me try,” a voice demanded, and a third person entered the cell, the door closing behind him. Out of the corner of Octavia’s eye she saw Wong stiffen, his eyes going wide. She turned to glance at him, frowning.

“Mordo,” he breathed. “Old friend…” he didn’t sound at all sure of the ‘friend’ part.

“Wizard?” Nebula whispered, as a few sharp slaps and a gasp heralded Strange being revived. Wong nodded.

“Quite a spell,” Mordo complimented, and Octavia could see the flying orange sparks and warm glow in the air that accompanied magic. The cloak’s agitation grew; it nearly knocked its cage off the table, and one of the original interrogators walked over and punched it back into place. “The trouble with a spell like this is, it’s all or nothing. Your very essence is feeding into it.”

“That was the idea,” Strange grit out. “Even if I die, removing the last vestiges of it from my corpse will take years.”

“Of course, of course,” Mordo crooned, and then Strange let out a choked cry. “But why would I break the spell when I can do this instead? The bill comes due, Strange…”

“Fire suppression system activating in 5, 4, 3,” Nebula counted quietly, and Wong waved his hands, summoning a long rod of golden light.

The buzzing screech of the alarm would have knocked Octavia off her feet if she hadn’t been braced for it. Sprinklers deployed, and Octavia surged out from the hiding place, fingers moving quickly to type in the code before anyone realized something was amiss. The two beings who had been in the cell originally ran out the door right past her, not looking past her stolen armor; they paused a moment once they’d run out a few paces, but before they had the chance to return and demand an explanation, one had met Wong’s magic rod, and Nebula had stabbed the other in the throat. 

Mordo had his hand resting near Strange’s lower belly, fingers curled inward, palm up, with some kind of swirling light resting on his skin, and Strange was mid-scream of protest when Octavia’s first strike forced Mordo to dodge, releasing whatever he’d been doing. Nebula flipped a lever and Strange dropped, boneless, from whatever force had suspended him. Octavia caught him as he fell, but Mordo was on them again with a cry of rage.

“Master Mordo,” Wong roared, intercepting him. “You have betrayed the brotherhood of the mystic arts, and your planet of origin.”

“That’s not how I see it,” the other wizard growled, and Octavia’s eyes widened. The gold necklace where Strange kept the time stone was dangling from the man’s fingers. Wong spotted it at the same time she did, and he slashed downward at that arm, but Mordo vaulted backwards, turning to run down the hallway. By now, other guards had realized the source of the disturbance and began to congregate. They opened their ranks to let Mordo through, but then closed again, baring teeth and pulling out weapons.

“Here,” Octavia said, handing over Strange’s dead weight to Nebula. “Get him out. I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point in 20 minutes.”

“Octavia,” Wong started from where he was hurriedly releasing the sentient cloak from its cage, but she cut him off.

“I need you to do what you do best,” she said quietly, pulling out her sword and whirling it in an arc of sharp steel. “And let me do what I do best.”

Killing had always come more easily to her than rescue, hadn’t it?

-0-

The alien soldiers were weak. But god, there was no end to them. Nebula and Wong had gotten Strange safely back into the servants’ passages, and Octavia had defended the entrance until too many bodies had piled up around her for either her or the attackers to get much fighting done. After that, she turned and ran, the rabid horde chasing after her as she threaded her way through the maze that was the detention level. 

Nebula had suggested a couple of exit points, in case everything went to hell; one of them was a small intake hangar where captured shuttles were impounded while their crews were killed or imprisoned. She made for it, but the creatures headed her off, surrounding her and forcing her to stop and defend herself. Time was ticking by, and she knew they couldn’t wait for her forever; she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that she’d distracted 100% of the army all by herself.

Shuri’s force field seemed to be effective at blocking whatever they were blasting her with out of their guns, but the physical ends of bayonets claws were able to penetrate. However, while she would bleed for a moment when cut, the wounds closed themselves with a dark red glow. 

‘How was I making holes in the floor back in the medical center?’ she wondered, and then she was falling - only one story this time, and she landed on her feet.

“Yes!” She hissed, turning to run in the direction she judged the impound to be. The creatures followed her, snapping and roaring and clawing their way along the walls when there was no more room for them to run side by side. She slowed to turn a corner, and with an ominous whistle, a thrown dagger sliced through the air - and impaled the pod stuck to her back.

The pain of the blow and the jarring feel and smell of the ship without the forcefield around her slowed her down for a moment - long enough for a blast of blue light to hit the back of her calf, the pain searing up her leg and causing her to trip.

But instead of hitting the cold metal floor, she fell into the arms of a woman clad in bloodstained white armor.

-0-

“Is he okay? Why isn’t he waking up?” Peter was demanding, the eyes of his suit tiny red points as the Instant Kill function kept off their pursuers.

“Whatever spell Mordo hit him with, it did a number on his magic,” Wong responded, angling the round shield he’d conjured and spinning it to slice two of the attackers in half. “I’m going to take us the roundabout way to the meeting place,” he announced, opening the first of a series of portals placed strategically to split the horde up chasing them.

“What about Octavia?” Peter exclaimed, jumping through the first only to swing out and bash an alien soldier right in the chest, landing him on top of two of his comrades.

-0-

“I can run on my own,” Octavia gasped after the woman had helped her limp a few steps. She’d been holding a large gun, and laid down enough cover fire that they had a few seconds to breathe - and gave the Reality Stone enough time to put Octavia’s leg back together. “I heal quick,” she explained as she took her own weight back and they ran side by side towards the hanger. She vaguely recognized the woman - she’d been in one of the cells when they’d first entered. She must’ve used all the chaos of the breakout to escape herself.

“Do you have transport off-planet?” the woman asked, pausing a moment to shoot behind them.

“A wizard is making a portal in about ten minutes,” Octavia responded, pulling the small handheld alien gun out of the holster in her stolen armor and trying to fire back. It clicked uselessly.

“Safety, on the back,” the woman instructed. “Press twice, wait for the light to go on.”

This time the weapon sent out a jet of blue light and a creature fell to its death. 

“All of the captured ships have homing technology installed in them,” she continued as they arrived at the hanger and Octavia disabled the guard with a powerful roundhouse kick. “So I hope your wizard can do his bit.” She pressed a few buttons and the outer door opened - bringing with it a wave of heat that had Octavia falling to her knees with a cry.

Right. No force field.

She hyperventilated, inflating her lungs and hoping that whatever this woman was, she could survive the climate long enough to catch up with Wong and the others. Apparently it was time to test the“functional immortality” bit of sharing her body with an infinity stone.

-0-

“She should be back by now,” Nebula growled, pacing back and forth behind the rocky outcropping where they’d met to discuss their initial plan. According to her internal chronometer, it had been 23 minutes since Octavia had said 20, and while she understood that people without a computer for a brain rarely meant time as specifically as she did, that made it hard to judge how long to wait for her.

“We can wait a few more minutes,” Wong said in a deliberately calm tone. He’d led their pursuers on a wild, backtracking chase before hiding them away behind the rocks, using his magic to make them unnoticeable. “Until they find us, we’re safe here.”

“Where’s the sticky boy?” Nebula asked suddenly, frowning at their surroundings.

-0-

If this was what Primefiya had felt like, Octavia resolved to treat Clarke with a little more respect from now on. Her skin was burning off and healing simultaneously, and she could tell that whatever the other woman was, she wasn’t having such a good time of it either. Barely able to see straight, Octavia stumbled forward, trying to keep the part of the ship they’d originally approached behind her and hoping that the pursuing soldiers had assumed they’d stayed onboard. She didn’t know how long she could fight in this state if she had to.

She caught sight of the specific group of rocks they were aiming for just as she heard the screech of one of the creatures. Two small groups of them approaching from different directions. How had they even gotten out here so fast?

The woman shot down one group, but then the gun sputtered and died, out of power. Octavia pulled out her own gun, but she could barely aim it. She couldn’t breathe, could barely stand to keep her eyes open… 

“Hey ass-holes!” a familiar voice shouted, and the creatures turned just in time to see Peter swinging from one of his webs which he’d attached to the outer wing of the ship. They didn’t even have time to dodge the spider-leg-like extensions from his suit.

“Nice job, kid,” she rasped before collapsing. The woman in white caught her, and between her and Peter, they supported her back to the portal.

To Be Continued...

[ks-caster]

The Future is Infinite (Chapter 5)

Start || Previous

Chapter-specific warnings: None. 

Urgent knocking at the door woke her, and Octavia rolled over, frowning in the pre-dawn half-light to squint in the direction where the noise had originated.

“Octavia,” Bucky’s strained voice called. “You in there?”

“Yeah,” she called back, voice raspy either with too much sleep or not enough, she wasn’t sure. She fumbled to her feet and opened the door. “What’s going on?”

“Strange is gone,” Bucky explained hurriedly, as Steve joined him from his own room, pulling on a shirt and reaching inside the door for huge metal arm-shields he’d been using as a weapon yesterday. “Signs of a struggle. We needed to know if anyone else was taken.” Without further ado, he headed off to pound on her other neighbor’s door. “Thor, you in there?”

“Skrish,” Octavia swore, ducking back into the room to pull her clothes back on and grab her sword before heading out and following where everyone else was headed.

“I said clear the room!” Tony was shouting. “This is a crime scene, not a museum. Yes, you too kid.” He added, making a shooing motion towards Peter who, to his credit, was stuck to the wall and therefore not underfoot. He maneuvered lithely across the room and through the door to crouch on the hallway ceiling and watch as Tony scanned things with different colored lasers and asked questions, only to be answered by a woman’s disembodied voice.

“What happened?” Thor demanded.

“Dr. Banner went to see if Mr. Strange was still up because he saw lights under the door,” Peter recited, with the air of someone who’d given this talk a couple of times to different waves of people. “He didn’t answer, but then Mr. Stark thought maybe he was using the time stone thingy to look at the future again so he picked the lock, but when he got in, Mr. Strange was gone, and there was blood on the wall and the bed, and the lamp was broken.” He pointed to the two halves of a tall floor lamp. A smaller splatter of blood was soaking into the carpet near it. It had been broken over someone’s body, most likely.

“The guy can see fourteen million futures but not someone breaking into his bedroom?” She checked rhetorically, already wondering if he had seen this coming, if it was part of the plan. 

The lamp post. A guide. A landmark, showing the way home. Broken on the floor.

She shook herself a little, knowing that she was being ridiculous and reading too much into things. He’d been attacked, he had or hadn’t seen it coming, and he was gone. Probably still alive - she knew she didn’t carry around dead bodies without a very good reason. 

“Think this is still the one where we win?” Rocket commented darkly.

“I am Groot,” the tree said sadly, before returning to his game.

“Tony, is there any chance he didn’t have the stones on him when he was taken?” Steve asked, leaning on the doorframe but very carefully not setting foot in the room.

“If he didn’t take off his unnaturally loyal cape of destiny to sleep, I doubt he took off the infinity time necklace,” Tony responded, never pausing in his sweep of the room.

“Boss,” the disembodied voice addressed him, “I’ve finished scanning the room. Some of the blood belongs to Dr. Stephen Strange - the blood on the carpet isn’t his. From the dirt patterns on the balcony, the outer door hasn’t been opened in the last couple of days, and as you saw yourself, the inside door was locked.”

“I’ve seen three different guys make magic portals in the last 12 hours,” Octavia reminded everyone. “Not exactly a locked room mystery.” 

“Oh, good point!” Peter exclaimed, a glimmer of hope in his voice. “Maybe he used magic to run away from his attacker?”

“He would’ve clued us in by now,” Natasha countered. 

“I am Groot,” the tree added helpfully. Rocket did a double-take.

“What!?” He exclaimed. The tree looked up from his game.

“I. Am. Groot,” he repeated slowly. “I am Groot.”

“Care to translate?” Steve asked Rocket, but Thor answered first.

“He says that Strange gave the soul stone to Quill earlier this afternoon,” he explained quickly, then frowned. “Why would he do that? Quill’s not exactly…”

“Hey, he just lost the love of his life!” Rocket growled. Thor raised his hands placatingly.

“That’s what I meant, of course!” he backtracked. While man and beast (and tree) growled at each other, Octavia turned to Bucky.

“Has anyone checked to see if he’s still here?” she asked. He nodded.

“Nebula did that wing,” he gestured towards the blue woman. “Quill’s still here. And Shuri was able to remove the Mind Stone from Vision - she’s here, and confirmed that the stone is still safe in her lab. Anyone come after you?”

Octavia shook her head. “I was out on the balcony practically all night, and I left the doors open when I went to sleep. May as well have painted a target on my face - never saw a single threat.”

“But,” she added, frowning, “that makes perfect sense.”

“Care to share with the class?” Tony asked, and she realized uncomfortably that all eyes were on her. She wished she’d put her armor back on instead of the soft clothes she’d been given.

“If I was fighting an opponent who could see the future, who could see fourteen million futures and find only one version where I lose,” she explained, “then really my only real threat is the guy who can see the future, right? Eliminate him, make a few unpredictable moves, and then I’m almost certainly into one of the millions of futures where I win.” She shrugged. 

“And if I only had one opportunity to use the element of surprise,” she continued as looks of comprehension dawned on her audience’s faces, “then I’m not going to waste it on people and things who, in the absence of the future-seeing wizard, aren’t a threat, am I? So now the real question here is, why not just kill the wizard? If it had been me, and if everything had been riding on this, I would’ve just stabbed him in the head so that I’m guaranteed a victory.”

“Not necessarily,” Tony responded. He looked like he was going to be sick. All eyes turned to him. “When he was taken the first time… Squidward was saying something about how if he delivered the stone to Thanos while it was still attached to Strange, it wouldn’t go so well for him. And that the spell wouldn’t just wear off after Strange died. They’re, ah. Probably working real hard to convince him to take it off.” He looked really, really sick.

This time Steve did enter the room, followed closely by Rhodey, but Tony waved both of them off, walking quickly out into the crowded hallway as if he was trying to walk away from his own thoughts.

“So Thanos does have the time stone, but he can’t use it for the length of time it takes Dr. Stephen Strange to break under torture,” Octavia caught up calmly. “From what I’ve seen of him, that buys us some time.”

“You’re disturbingly okay with that,” Tony exclaimed, breaths agitated.

“I’m disturbingly experienced,” she shot back. “But there is one positive we haven’t noticed yet - if Thanos was still able to surprise Strange, then clearly fourteen million wasn’t the total number of possible futures.”

“So,” Peter said, his voice sounding so, so young, “we might still win after all?”

“I make it a point never to rule that out until the end,” Octavia assured him, trying to remind herself that not all of the people around her were hardened the way she was. Not everyone had survived what she had.

“So,” T’Challa summed up rubbing his temple, “Either this is part of Strange’s plan and we’re still winning, or it isn’t and that means we still have a chance. Thanos has 3 infinity stones, and so do we, and we need to get the fight off of this planet and away from its people.”

“And we need to rescue the wizard. Again.” Peter added with a small, breathy laugh. Octavia watched the faces of all the adults who didn’t have the heart to tell the kid that they wouldn’t even know where to start, and saw Rhodey usher Tony a few steps away, rubbing his back… and then a thought burned through her brain like an alarm tone.

“Where do Strange’s loved ones live?” she demanded, glancing between Tony and Peter, since they were the only ones who seemed to know him. Everyone stared at her blankly. “His pressure points, people he’d give up the universe to save,” she clarified, hoping they’d get the picture without her having to say the word ‘torture’ again and risk making whatever Tony was going through worse.

“He used to work at New York Hospital,” Rhodey supplied helpfully. “But that was a few years ago - I don’t think he’s been back much.”

“Wong. Wong would know,” Tony muttered, pulling out his phone. The air around Thor crackled. 

“I’m going to London,” he announced, striding quickly through the now vacant crime scene and flinging open the balcony door. “Rabbit, Tree, will you accompany me?” Rocket and Groot followed him, just in time for him to whirl his ax around a few times, and a blinding column of multi-colored light shone down from the sky, vanishing all three of them, and leaving a curling tracery of sparks singed into the balcony. 

“He has an ex he’s still in contact with,” Tony was repeating from someone - presumably Wong - on the other end of the phone. “Dr. Christine Palmer. Still works at New York Hospital. I’m sending in the Iron Legion.” Everyone was yelling at once.

“Don’t draw attention—” 

“—Alerting the local authorities—”

“Can you find her number?”

“—Hospital might be in danger!”

“Any other family? An ex can’t be it—”

“He’d need access to the planet, right?” Octavia murmured, and she saw Nebula’s eyes flit to her. “He brought a whole space fleet here - if he was gonna do that again, then he wouldn’t go too far with them… especially if there are a bunch of other, more powerful planets around who wouldn’t like what he’s doing; people who’d get in the way when he comes back. He’d need somewhere out of the way to regroup, but he’d hang close to the planet. 

“Where nearby could you hide a battle fleet?” She asked, looking at Nebula who by now was clearly paying attention, having levered herself off the wall she’d been leaning on and taken a step forward. 

“The closest planets are called Mars and Venus,” she recited, pressing her temple. Her eye lit up and projected out a map of the solar system - nine planets, and a debris field that might have been the ruins of a tenth. “Mars’s rotation cycle keeps one side dark at all times - Venus’s atmosphere hides the whole of the planet’s surface… and the heat and light make it an excellent location for recharging a number of different kinds of engines without being observed.” 

“Venus will also remain within easy flying distance of Earth for the next few weeks,” Vision’s voice commented - out of a completely normal-looking man with tired eyes and mousy hair. Octavia did a double-take, but she had seen the red man’s face and heard his voice, and she supposed that she saw and heard the resemblance. Maybe his skin had turned red because of the infinity stone now conspicuously absent from his forehead.

Was her skin going to change colors too?

Not the time.

“We need a ship,” Nebula announced. Everyone was listening now.

“Or a Wong,” Tony countered, tapping a colorful square on his phone and holding it back to his ear. “Hey, on second thought…”

“You won’t survive Venus’s climate dressed like that,” Shuri commented, running her fingers over the beaded bracelet on her wrist and generating projected symbols into the air. “Luckily for all of you, I came prepared. Everyone planning on rescuing the doctor, to my lab right away.”

-0-

“We need to slow down and think this through for a minute,” Steve was demanding as everyone crowded into Shuri’s lab in their pajamas. “First of all, this could very easily be a trap—” 

“The surface temperature on Venus holds steady at over 460 degrees celsius,” Shuri was explaining as Tony and Steve went at each other in the background. “The atmospheric pressure is similar to what we would find 900 meters below the ocean’s surface.”

“God, I forgot what it was like to try and save the world while tripping over an overgrown boy scout!”

“Because tripping over your massive ego is so much better!”

More and more of the crowd were moving to the Stark vs Rogers shouting match, either to join, intervene or rubberneck. Shuri glared in the direction of the crescendo of noise a few times, but when it became clear that they weren’t about to stop on her account, she turned her attention to the little knot of people surrounding her. Octavia, Nebula and Wong each took one of the pods she handed out, affixing them to the backs of their necks as she showed. 

“What about my suit?” Peter asked from inside a red and blue metallic bodysuit. He was hanging upside down from a white stringy substance stuck to the ceiling. Octavia ran a hand over the top of her now forcefield-encased head, pressing her palm against her skull like she hoped she could squash out the quickly building headache. 

“Pressure, yes. That level of heat, on the other hand, will eventually fry the electronics in the nanites of your suit. These are designed not only to withstand the heat…”

“No, YOU’RE wasting time with all of this POINTLESS DRAMA, but isn’t that what you do best—” 

“OH, I didn't realize that saving my CAPTURED FRIEND’S LIFE was an inconvenience, oh, WAIT I’ve HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE!”

“THAT’S LOW, EVEN FOR YOU!”

“You’re the one who can get us through to the fleet, yes?” Nebula asked Wong quietly as the man slipped a second suit pod into his pocket for Strange.

“I am,” Wong responded, glancing at the battle lines being drawn around the room.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Octavia muttered, already imagining what a pain in the ass it would be to break up that fight and get everyone to work together.

It was safe to say that she did not miss being queen one bit.

The three of them shared a look, with Peter detaching from the ceiling and glancing rapidly between them and the (so far still largely verbal) fight.

“That room over there is safely insulated,” Shuri continued, accepting that she was only briefing four people instead of a room of them. Octavia noticed that the case she’d opened only had a total of eight slots for suits, so she supposed it was probably better for the team to be chosen quickly and quietly, rather than let the arguing masses debate who should go. “Don’t open the portal until the door is closed; don’t open the door until the portal is closed when you come back.”

“But… Mr. Stark,” Peter started helplessly.

“Is otherwise occupied - with being an idiot,” Nebula finished for him. “Are you coming or not?”

“I… yes,” Peter decided, fixing the pod to the back of his suit and following the adults toward the little room Shuri had pointed out. “I’m coming. Let’s go save the wizard.” 

To Be Continued... 

[ks-caster]

The Future is Infinite (Chapter 4)

Chapter-specific warnings: smoking, cannibalism mention, PTSD flashback

Start || Previous

Showered and dressed in a pair of comfortable black pants and a sleeveless shirt with a loose, floppy collar, Octavia emerged from the room when the hands of the clock pointed at a quarter to seven. The king had invited everyone to have dinner with him, and the soup from that afternoon was feeling like she’d eaten it back at home a hundred years ago. 

When she arrived, the room was filling up quickly. She lingered in the doorway, watching Tony converse with a black man whose name she didn’t know; Steve entered from a different doorway and approached them, looking almost hesitant. Based on Bucky’s description and her own assessment, this was… unusual behavior for Steve.

“What’s the story with those two?” She asked quietly as she sensed Bucky coming up behind her.

“Uh,” he hedged, clearly uncomfortable.

“Come on, you people know all of my dirty secrets,” she hissed without any real venom. She supposed she was used to people telling her stories without her there to comment. She couldn’t let it hurt anymore - if she did she’d be consumed by it.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed slowly, “Well, seventy-some years ago, I got captured by a group called HYDRA. They tortured and brainwashed me to work for them.” He was clearly struggling to tell only the facts, and no more, and Octavia already regretted asking, but figured she should trust him to know his own limits and/or tell her to go fuck herself and end the conversation if he needed to. “I was an assassin for them on and off for half a century after they finished modifying me. One of my targets was Stark’s parents. 

“I’m okay now,” he rushed to assure her, though she knew her own expression hadn’t changed. Must be a habit, she thought, remembering how quick Lincoln had been to reassure people of the same thing after he detoxed from his Reaper state. “Shuri and her science team were able to purge all the programming from my head, so I don’t do that anymore. I’m safe to be around people and everything. But when Stark found out I killed his mother, he wanted revenge,” he shrugged, as though agreeing that that was the natural reaction. “Steve defended me.”

“Huh,” Octavia mused. “Guess that would put some strain on a working relationship.”

“Just a bit,” Bucky agreed, his eyebrows twitching up once in acknowledgement of the sarcasm and understatement between them.

“Your name’s Peter, right?” Octavia added, glancing up as the feeling of being watched prickled down the back of her neck. The kid silently crawling his way across the ceiling paused and jumped guiltily to the floor.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his head nervously as he walked backwards into the room. “You sounded like you were talking about something serious so I didn’t want to just walk between you.” Looking up at the sound of the kid’s voice, Tony and Steve caught sight of them, Steve waving and smiling, and Tony’s face going hard. He stood abruptly and moved to sit at another table. Octavia felt Bucky’s shoulder slump beside her. 

“Uh, I gotta… go,” Peter said awkwardly before heading towards where Tony had relocated. 

“You clean up nicely,” a vaguely familiar girl’s voice commented as they reached Steve’s table. Octavia turned to see a teen girl dressed in vivid shades of orange approaching them from where T’Challa was sitting with the man in the scale armor. He’d left his ax in a corner of the room, she noted, wondering if she was expected to remove her dagger, which she’d slipped into a long, narrow pocket down her thigh. She supposed someone would tell her if she’d broken a social norm.

“Well, it was my first shower in over a hundred years,” she shrugged, noticing the similarities between the girl and the king and figuring she was most likely a relative. “I should hope there’d be some difference.” She took a drink of something that Steve poured for her out of a jug. It was some kind of fruit juice. The princess’s voice had been the one to say that her cells were mutating, she remembered distantly as the girl casually side-hugged Bucky.

“Princess Shuri, Octavia,” he introduced them, squeezing the girl back before letting go. 

“So, you’re the one Strange thinks is the key to saving the universe,” Shuri commented, hooking her foot around a chair from the table opposite and pulling it over so she could sit down close to all three of them.

“Not so sure about that,” Octavia grumbled, taking another long swig of the juice. “I didn’t exactly do such a great job the last time the fate of the human race fell into my lap.” She deliberately refused to think about those days. It was over a century ago, although it didn’t feel like it. 

And it had all been pointless, she supposed, now that they knew that they were far, far from being the only life left in the universe.

“Hey, someone said something about my people and yours sharing an evolutionary ancestor,” she commented suddenly, wanting to change the subject. “And you call yourselves humans too, right? What’s with that?”

“Oh, right!” Shuri exclaimed. “So, there’s this old, old story on earth - about a flood that destroyed all life on the planet, and a few survivors on a vessel that carried them until the destruction ended. It’s called Noah’s Ark.” Octavia frowned in confusion.

“We have a story like that too,” she recalled, “But the captain’s name was Abijah.” She vaguely remembered Bellamy talking about the old myth - and the way the Ark had been named after that ship.

“Exactly!” Shuri exclaimed. “Thor was telling me all about it. A long long time ago, humans lived on a planet called Earth. But there was this huge disaster and the planet was destroyed. They had some warning, and their interstellar neighbors helped them build escape vessels, and sent them off to other planets nearby which, with a little scientific help here and there from Asgard and their allies, could be made to support life. 

“The planet we’re on now is called Terra, galactically speaking. The one you’re from is called Phyra. But most of the human refugees referred to their planets by the names their cultures called the original Earth, and a lot of them have parallel development and histories. Only apparently the people on your planet evolved faster than we did - Thor said that the conditions there were much harsher, so maybe that’s why.”

Octavia refilled her cup and drank again. Had her mom known, she wondered, that there was a glimmer of truth to the mythologies she’d delighted in telling her children?

And if there was so much truth to them, why had no one rushed to their aid when the planet was destroyed three times in a hundred years?

“Wait, she’s from Phyra?” The another voice asked incredulously. Octavia turned to see… a racoon? An actual racoon, sitting on the table from which Shuri had stolen the chair, munching on an appetizer of some sort. “Thought all life was wiped off of that godforsaken rock two hundred years ago by some kind of planet-wide nuclear disaster. They use it as a cautionary tale whenever I try to use nuclear power in any of my awesome custom-made weapons!”

“Well, we’re a stubborn bunch,” Octavia responded, not sure what to think of a talking racoon with custom-made nuclear weapons. His tablemates were the blue woman who’d seemed to know Thanos personally, a… tree? Well, a sapling. With a face. Playing some kind of electronic game. And a shirtless man with grey-ish skin, who was covered in some kind of raised red tattoos.

“Do all racoons talk on this planet?” she checked with Shuri, ignoring the creature’s angry outburst that people needed to quit calling him a racoon.

“No, just that one,” the girl giggled. “Rocket talks, shoots people, and steals prosthetics.”

“Oh, so that was normal back there,” Bucky muttered, rubbing at his metal shoulder. Octavia wanted to ask about his arm - for a prosthetic it sure moved like a natural limb - but the red-and-grey man was talking about how in his planet the racoon was something called a lierjhg, and how tasty they were when roasted over a campfire, and Rocket was even more indignant at the thought that he might be considered edible, and Octavia could taste blood on her tongue, not hers, oh how she wished it was hers instead...

“Hey,” Steve was saying quietly, his hand warm and stable on her bare arm. “Too much too fast?” Octavia blinked hard, relieved that she hadn’t teared up and wondering how long she’d been frozen like that.

She wasn’t hungry anymore.

-0-

The bath was every bit as luxurious as Octavia had expected. She took a deep breath, laying back along the bottom, her body bobbing gently in the hot water, only her toes gently bumping against the side reminding her that she was in a small tub and not an open stream. 

She hadn’t asked why her earth had been abandoned by its interplanetary neighbors - she decided she really didn’t want to know. After being an outcast for being a second child, then being rejected by the Arcadians for being too grounder-like; after losing what little home she’d made for herself again and again and again, always “for the greater good,” she didn’t want to hear one more time about how circumstances had forced the powers that be to make a decision, and she hadn’t made the cut. 

She knew what it was like to be on both ends of those choices, and that there was no good answer. So she left it alone, forcing herself to nibble a few things for a while and make light conversation with Steve and Bucky and Shuri before excusing herself. Strange had told Wong that she had PTSD. Had he said that to the others? She didn’t know if she agreed with him - anyone would have trouble processing the things she’d had to do; why slap a disorder on it? Besides, if anything, she was the traumatic event… 

She stayed in the water until it started to feel cold, then dried herself off, pulling on a long, soft robe she’d found hanging on the back of the door. She wasn’t ready to sleep yet. She’d been unconscious today, and before that had slept a hundred and seven years. That was probably plenty to be getting on with. She pulled the book out of her bag and curled up on the balcony with it, leaning against the railing so she could see the lights and hear the faint sounds of the city below as she read. 

It was the sort of book she’d have loved as a child - magic and mystery and a clear divide between bad guys and good. She wondered why her mother had never read it to her - but maybe the ship’s library didn’t have it. She supposed it was silly to assume that the computer archives would have successfully saved every book ever written.

“Trouble sleeping?” Steve asked, and she looked up to see him on the next balcony over, leaning on the railing and gazing out at the city below, a tiny white roll of paper clamped between his fingers.

“I think I’ve slept enough for a few lifetimes,” she responded dryly, marking her place by carefully folding the corner of a page and standing up.

“See, when I tell people that they give me shit about my health,” Steve said, folding his arms and grinning.

“And you wouldn’t dream of subjecting me to the same, of course,” Octavia suggested, eyebrow raised.

“Of course not,” he responded conspiratorially. He took a step to the side to lean his hip against the railing, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and setting the end of what she finally recognized as a cigarette on fire. “What have I interrupted you reading?”

“The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, by C.S. Lewis,” she responded, showing him the cover.

“Oh, I love that one!” he exclaimed. “Natasha recommended it to me a little while after I was defrosted.”

“No spoilers!” Octavia warned playfully. “They’ve just evacuated the Beaver dam.” Steve raised his hands in mock-surrender. 

“You’re gonna love the ending,” he snorted.

“I said no spoilers! Don’t make me come over there and shut you up,” she growled.

They talked a while longer - Steve talking about what it was like to wake up in the 21st Century after so long away, and telling stories about his and Bucky’s childhood in the 40s. Octavia responded with a few carefully curated vignets of some of her happier moments on the Earth. Phyra. Whatever. Eventually her eyes started to prickle and she yawned.

“It’s after three am,” Steve commented, looking at his watch in surprise. “Think it’s time for me to give sleep another try.” Octavia nodded agreement, and headed back into her room.

The bed was deliciously soft and comfortable - easily the nicest one she’d ever been in. But after about thirty minutes of fruitless tossing and turning, she had to admit that the softness made her feel like she was constantly falling, which in turn made already-elusive sleep impossible to obtain. With a sigh, she got up, pulling the thick fluffy comforter and a couple of pillows off the bed, and made herself a nest on the floor, right in the balcony doorway. With solid ground beneath her and fresh air moving over her face, she was finally able to drift off to sleep. 

Her last thought - which, in the manner of half-asleep musings, she would forget entirely upon waking - was how strange it was that two entirely separate planets, parallel development or no, would somehow generate the exact same book by an author of the exact same name. 

After all, her copy had come from the Eligius ship, and Steve had lived his whole life on Terra.

To Be Continued... 

This chapter is dedicated to @just-ash1 - I didn’t expect people to actually read this and enjoy it since crossovers can be iffy, so thanks for making my day!

[ks-caster]

The Future is Infinite (Chapter 7)

Start || Previous

Chapter-specific warnings: Mild suicidal ideation

“Slow down,” the man who’d been introduced a few minutes ago as Nick Fury demanded, “and start from the beginning.” Octavia resisted the urge to scratch her still-healing burns as Natasha and T’Challa took turns catching the man up on what had been happening with Thanos. According to Bruce (after he’d bravely suppressed a gag at seeing the state of her body) she was healing up at a phenomenal rate, and should be back up to 100% by the end of tomorrow. 

She had taken that as an official release from medical, and had grit her teeth through a painful and ill-advised shower, pulled on another pair of soft pants and a shirt, and had wandered into the introduction and briefing of the former director of SHIELD. She figured it wouldn’t hurt to listen in, if only to get caught up on everyone’s names.

“Shortly thereafter,” Thor was jumping in, “Thanos attacked my ship, carrying the remainder of Asgard’s people as refugees. He slaughtered about half of our number; the other half escaped in pods. While Loki, Hulk and I held them off…”

According to both Wong and Tony, Strange was going to lose it when he woke up and found out that they’d prioritized saving his life over retrieving the time stone. Octavia’s mind replayed those moments over and over, trying to find another angle she could have swung her sword or a way she could have caught up with the fleeing wizard. While she didn’t regret the decision to choose the life of a comrade in arms over an inanimate object, she did know how bad of a thing it was for Thanos to have it. Particularly if the wizard Mordo could use it the same as Strange had.

“...While Wanda was trying to destroy it - we almost lost Vision,” Natasha continued. “If the ship from Phyra hadn’t shown up when it did…”

Steve had looked like he was going to either hug her or cry when he’d caught sight of her upon her return. She’d made a joke about Venus being too hot for a vacation, and when it fell flat, reminded him that the infinity stone made her able to heal. Eventually she’d managed to push off some of the attention on Peter, pointing out how he’d bravely saved her and Valkyrie at the last moment. 

Tony had alternated between worried scolding and beaming pride, and something about the way he and Steve no longer flinched at each other’s presences made her think that someone had forced them to come to an understanding. Maybe it was Shuri, she thought tiredly. She was just glad it hadn’t been her this time.

“And you must be Miss Blake,” the woman who had come with Fury addressed her, holding out a hand to shake. Octavia took it. “Maria Hill, former agent of SHIELD, current hero-wrangler with Stark Industries.”

“Octavia Blake,” she responded, “current human infinity stone.” 

“What abilities does it give you?” Fury asked, somehow managing to look like he was staring her down both with his eye and the patch on his left side.

“So far, I can survive having my ribcage crushed by a titan, and a walk on the surface of Venus; if someone touches me and I don’t want them to, they get thrown across the room” she listed tiredly. “And bonus, when I wish that the floor would open up and swallow me, it actually does.” She focused hard on staying where she was, not wanting to accidentally give a practical demonstration right then and there.

“So in general, not a combatant,” Fury summed up. Half the room raised hands and voices to correct him. Octavia smirked while Fury raised an eyebrow, first at the room at large, and then at her.

“Untrained, then,” Fury corrected himself. Octavia inclined her head, allowing that.

“You happen to have a course available at SHIELD?” she checked, half sarcastic, half wondering what resources they might have. “How to use your infinity stone in 10 days or less?”

“A course, no,” Fury shook his head. “But,” he added thoughtfully, “I do know someone with experience in that area.”

“Actually, so do I,” Rocket realized aloud. Everyone turned to look at him. “Well, not a lot of experience.” he backtracked quickly. “And he can’t do it anymore. But he did pretty good for himself at the time. And he needs something to do anyway.”

“My option is on the other side of the galaxy,” Fury shrugged. “It’ll take her some time to get here.”

“Mine’s holed up in his room down the hall,” Rocket responded.

-0-

Peter Quill was a horrible teacher. 

First, he had no idea what he was doing. His experience was limited to two days living on a planet that was also his biological father (she wasn’t 100% clear on the details there and wasn’t sure she wanted to be). While his ability to control his surroundings sounded a lot like the descriptions she’d gotten of the reality stone’s powers, he understood them about as much as she did - which wasn’t much. 

He also insisted on expressing himself in metaphors based on a culture that Octavia had no context for, and didn’t become at all discouraged by her blank looks and complete lack of understanding. 

“Once again,” she growled, “I don’t know what the force is, or how to use it, I’ve never heard of Krypton, my name isn’t Daniel-san, and I still don’t understand why the thing you want me to do with the power of the universe is bend a spoon.” She held the piece of cutlery up and waved it back and forth between her fingers, thinking that she could easily bend the metal with only her hands. Hardly a god-like feat.

“Look,” Quill growled right back, “the only time you’ve been able to use it is when you were emotional - you wanted to fall through the floor, you didn’t want the King Panther dude to touch you, you were upset and lashed out. Now when I had my powers, they were tied into my emotions too - you don’t fly the arrow with your head,” he choked off, and Octavia bit down on the inner corner of her lips to try to prevent a scowl.

“I don’t know that one either,” she sighed, but stopped there, noticing that he was tearing up. Rocket had warned that he wasn’t terribly stable - his girlfriend had been killed by Thanos hours before he’d landed on Earth. He’d also described the man as funny, irreverent, friendly, and kind of an idiot. A good friend.

Like Jasper, she thought, heart twisting as he tried to make another joke to smooth over whatever he’d been saying about arrows.

“So what you’re saying with all of this is I need to get emotional,” she summed up.

“Not exactly,” he sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes, ostensibly in frustration, but clearly also to remove the evidence that he’d started crying. “According to Thor, when his ex had it, it protected her when she felt she was in danger. Now the times you described that you used it, you were in danger too - or thought you were. But you’re not in danger here in this room.”

“So I need to… recreate what I was feeling at the time that I used it to defend myself,” she summed up.

“Yes, exactly,” Quill exclaimed. Octavia could feel herself shrinking on the inside. That toxic combination of fear and despair wasn’t something she wanted to relive.

“And you’re absolutely sure that this is the only way?”

“I’m absolutely sure that this is the only way I know of,” he responded, flinging his arms wide, “since I was only a damn deity for about two days, and I’ve only had my hands on an infinity stone for about thirty seconds. And I barely survived both of those things.” He gave her a confused, awed, pitying look with which she was becoming familiar as the people of Terra-Earth learned the various things she’d survived.

“Something something evolutionary next step ,” she said, waving the spoon dismissively. Then she glared at the curved metal, willing it to bend - for the hundredth time that morning, but this time focusing on the fear and pain she’d been feeling when she ran from the medical wing. 

The spoon glinted defiantly at her, a perfect, smooth curve. 

She forced herself to go back into the darkest recesses of her head, tracing the thoughts lurking at the edges of her consciousness, threatening to flood in and consume her if she let her guard down.

Functionally immortal. She’d gone from comfortably courting death, knowing that her final rest was on its way and having faith in all the good that would do her people, to possibly never being released from this life. She’d never see Ethan again. Or Jasper. Or Lincoln. Or her mom. And her people would never truly be free of The Dark Year. The last of the human race wasn’t even the last - just an abandoned test colony. It had all been for nothing, she’d given up her soul for nothing… 

“-Tavia! Octavia, geez, stop! Stop!” Her eyes snapped to Quill’s wide, terrified ones. The spoon stood, perfect and unbothered by her inner turmoil.

“What?” she began to demand, irritated that this man would demand she tear herself apart with emotional pain only to interrupt her before it did any good.

“I think maybe your problem is less about power, and more about… aim,” he explained quietly, pointing off to the side. Turning her head first one way, then the other, Octavia found her eyes going just as wide as his had. 

The columns supporting the room’s roof had all bent down, doubling over in response to her command. She glanced up, noting the red mist holding up the ceiling, and then following the long tail streaming off of it to its source of Wanda Maximoff’s hand.

“Nice catch,” Quill thanked the woman as he stood and dusted bits of plaster off of himself.

Octavia exhaled slowly, making a concentrated effort to calm herself down.

She was accustomed to power. She was accustomed to scaring people.

She was not accustomed to being unable to control those things.

‘The sword doesn’t care what you meant,’ she remembered coldly admonishing Illian, lifetimes ago. ‘It just cuts.’ This power was far more destructive than a sword or a gun, and for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure if she could stop herself.

“Hey,” Natasha greeted them from the doorway, and three heads swiveled in her direction. “Strange is awake.”

“Awesome,” Quill responded dryly, “he can take over as Mr. Miyagi.”

“About that,” the red-haired agent sighed. “There’s been a complication.”

-0-

“Mordo’s spell was intended to remove his magic at the source,” Wong was explaining as they arrived. “Thanks to Octavia’s timely intervention, he didn’t succeed, but the damage is extensive - and it seems to have reset his memories back to June, 2016.”

“Look, Mr… whatever your name was,” Strange was trying to growl, his hands shaking even more uncontrollably than usual as his voice cracked. “I don’t know who the hell you people are or how I got here, but if someone could quit talking about magical miracle bullshit for ten seconds and call a real hospital, that would be great.”

“I take it June 2016 is prior to him becoming the master wizard we all know and loathe?” Tony sighed, pressing a half-full glass of something brown to his temple.

“Right before,” Wong confirmed. “The last thing he remembers is going to look for Pangborn. We think that that since Mordo’s spell was meant to remove his magic, and said magic is obtained through study and practice, he had to suppress the relevant memories..” 

“What the hell kind of hospital allows this many visitors to pile in at once?” Strange grumbled. “What country is this? And who’s in charge here?”

“Well that’s an unfortunate twist,” Octavia sighed, scrubbing her hands down her face as Shuri introduced herself and started to talk about chemical memories and a bunch of other scientific stuff that the warrior didn’t pretend to understand. They were short one time stone, one wizard, and she still didn’t have a competent teacher. 

Fear froze through her at the familiar thought that she might be on her own in this, carrying a power she neither wanted nor fully understood, again. Was it too much to ask of the universe that she not be alone to carry such a burden? She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply as Wong had instructed her to do when she felt her mind start to slip down that path. 

In, out, Strange’s voice was relieved as he began to realize that Shuri really actually did know what she was talking about.

In, out, this wasn’t her earth, there was no more bunker, no more Blodreina.

In, out, Tony and Steve were discussing how this would affect their plan in low, stressed voices.

In, out, she just needed someone who understood this, who knew what the hell they were doing, she needed she needed she needed she needed so hard that the universe was warping around that need.

She swallowed, clenching her fists against her forehead. Too much, too much power, too much need.

In, out, Rocket was quite vocal about how screwed they were now. Strange was quite vocal - and in a much higher register - about the fact that a raccoon was talking.

In, out, she could feel the power flowing through her, infinity crying out to infinity, the whole universe beneath the soles of her shoes and more, answering her call as it had every time she’d felt cornered and afraid so far. 

Her heart pounded, once, twice. 

Their hearts pounded, once, twice.

In, out, a green-skinned woman was waking up, breathing herself for the first time in a long time, blinking in confusion at the light coming in through Quill’s window as she threw back the curtains and stared at the city below, trying to get her bearings… 

“Octavia!” The hands on her were Wong’s and she realized that she could feel the stone’s power about to throw him off, and reined the impulse in with an iron will, the same as she had the impulses to murder and maim so many times when she was queen. She felt the power rising against her, but she opened her eyes, aiming her fist at the window and letting the burst of red power shatter it. Wong’s hands left her shoulders out of sensible caution - not because she’d hurt him. 

Progress.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” she commented blandly.

“So the light show and broken window were on purpose?” Rocket snorted.

“That window could withstand a missile blast,” one of the red-armored warriors who followed the princess around said, her eyebrows up. “If that was on purpose, I’d hate to see an accident.”

“Who the hell gave me LSD?” Strange choked.

“Some guy named Mordo,” Octavia responded flippantly, “I’m sure Wong can fill you in. Rocket, Nebula, with me please.” She turned and walked out of the room, knowing and not knowing where she was going all at once. She felt the stone singing beneath her skin, felt another pulling at her, felt a third pricking at the edge of her consciousness, wanting to wake...

“Uh, where are we going?” Rocket demanded, standing up from all-fours after he’d caught up. 

“Quill’s room I think,” Octavia responded, turning left and descending a flight of stairs.

“Why?” Nebula shot back, not trying to disguise the irritation and disgust in her tone. Octavia threw open the door to the guest hallway, and came face to face with the green woman, dressed in what were probably Quill’s spare clothes, holding two halves of a broken stand lamp like batons. For a long moment, no one spoke. No one moved. No one breathed.

The poles clattered to the floor as Nebula flung herself at her sister.

To Be Continued... 

[ks-caster]

More Self-Indulgent The 100 Fic - This time an Avengers Crossover that Probably No One will Read

I started writing this at the beginning of quarantine - back when I thought it was only going to be two weeks and needed a project to keep my hands busy. But I’m actually liking the way it’s going, so I figure I’ll go ahead and share it - since I’m working on getting back into good writing habits and posting the results on Tumblr.

The basic premise is that at the end of season 5, the ship leaves a dead Earth, headed for the closest goldilocks zone planet. Upon arrival, the survivors find a fully populated planet - under attack by a titan and his armies. Octavia had planned on slipping away and finding a forest somewhere to live out the rest of her days far away from anyone she might hurt, but the temptation to fight a giant alien thing was too much for her to resist. And as it turns out, that was exactly what Strange was looking for.

(Note, the first 6 chapters of this were written before the episode aired where O/D/E got all excited about getting to fight aliens on a new planet - so I take full credit for that characterization lol.)

Sneak Peek under the cut!

The Future is Infinite (Success a Rare Beast)

It didn’t feel like her first glimpse of sunlight and trees in a century, but apparently it was. Her ribs ached dully and the scrapes on her face stung from a battle that didn’t feel like a hundred years ago either. 

The small triangle of alien planet that she could see looked remarkably normal - long grasses and trees, and a whorl of deep grey in the sky too dark against the sunlight to be a natural cloud. She couldn’t hear or smell the battle from wherever they’d landed, but apparently they’d been detected, because someone was entering from the outside - she wondered what kind of strange ceremonial armor he was wearing because all she could see of him was what looked like the tip of a metal wing.

Bellamy greeted the newcomer, claiming that they were refugees from a destroyed planet, and offering help dealing with their invaders. Octavia wondered vaguely if Diyoza had used that same schtick on him before opening the bunker.

“Listen man,” the new guy was saying, “You really wanna help? Stay out of the way. We don’t have time for the whole take-me-to-your-leader thing right now. Unless you’ve got something stronger than the powers that shaped the universe and the big purple bastard trying to use them to take out half of all life, stay put. Someone will come and talk to you when we’re done fighting for our lives.”

“Guess they’re not as alien-friendly as you hoped,” Murphy commented as the newcomer apparently left.

“Guess they don’t want uncalculated variables in the middle of a battle,” Bellamy corrected with a sigh. “Let’s just sit tight, and try not to make any enemies in the first hour on a new planet.” Always playing the tired dad role, Octavia thought with a smirk.

She had never been one to back down from a challenge.

-0-

Slipping out of the shuttle without anyone noticing was more difficult than slipping in had been, but she managed.

[ks-caster]

The Future is Infinite (Chapter 2)

Chapter-specific warnings: slightly graphic descriptions of violence in battle, suicidal ideation, character experiences a panic attack, vomiting.

Start

“Steve Rogers,” Steve introduced himself to the strange woman, holding out a hand.

“Octavia,” she responded, switching her sword to her other hand to shake his. Her bare upper arms both seemed to be intact, which was strange, since Steve was absolutely certain her arm had been broken a moment ago. Before he had a chance to comment, a bright yellow light appeared to his left, and all four of them jumped to ready stances, only to be faced with a similarly exhausted and grime-covered group of people limping out of the portal.

“Tony!” Bruce exclaimed, having finally freed himself from the wreckage of Veronica. Steve’s breath caught in his throat - his genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist former friend was indeed limping through the portal, supported by that spider kid from the airport and holding his bleeding torso.

“Time stone,” one of the newcomers was listing as he leaned down to retrieve the glowing dot of green, placing it in an ornate golden pendant he was wearing around his neck. His red cape fluttered eerily against the light breeze.

“What, did Thanos just drop it?” Tony demanded in confusion as the man took a few steps forward to pick up the orange stone, letting it hover over his scarred hand.

“Octavia hacked some of them off the gauntlet before he retreated,” Steve responded. “Where’s…”

“Soul stone,” the grey-streaked man said, holding up the orange gem, and then turned to Octavia. “And the reality stone, safely inhabiting one Octavia Blake. Welcome to Earth your majesty,” he added with a respectful nod to her. Her eyebrows both arched, but her face gave nothing more away.

“And what should I call you? Other than disturbingly well-informed?” she asked coldly, folding her arms across her chest.

“Dr. Strange,” he introduced himself.

“Inhabiting?” Banner repeated, looking quickly between Strange and Octavia.

“The Aether, or Reality Stone, appears in multiple forms,” Strange explained quickly, weaving more golden light around the Soul Stone until it was encased in magic, then releasing the spell to leave a faintly glowing orb of material about the size of a pool ball lying in his hand. “It can be solid, it can be gaseous, or it can inhabit a living host. In this case, it’s inhabiting Octavia.”

“Guessing that’s why my arm suddenly works again,” she responded, flexing the muscle, face betraying nothing about how she felt regarding all of this strangeness. The doctor nodded, pocketing the soul stone and turning to T’Challa as he emerged from the woods, Bucky, Sam and Okoye on his heels.

“And also why your ribs are no longer puncturing your lungs, and so on and so forth,” he finished for her before switching conversations abruptly. “I take it the army has retreated?”

“Moments ago,” T’Challa responded, eyes moving quickly between everyone in the clearing. “Thanos?”

“Ran for his life,” Strange chuckled, “but still has two of the stones in his possession - Space and Power. He’ll be back in search of the others.”

“Then it is imperative that my sister finish removing this one from Vision,” the king responded. “We cannot in good conscience destroy it if it is attached to a living being.”

“Destroy— what the hell did I miss?” Tony demanded as Rhodey emerged from the forest and immediately took him from the spider kid.

“Medical attention first,” T’Challa decided, placing his own shoulder under Steve’s sagging weight, “explanations later.”

“Octavia,” Dr. Strange addressed her, and Steve turned to look in her direction, just in time to see her face go completely blank as she slumped to the ground in a graceless tangle of limbs.

“Her body needs time to get used to its new symbiote,” Strange explained dispassionately as Bucky strode over and lifted her up in a fireman’s carry, her fallen sword fitting neatly into his belt. “Anyway,” he added with something that sounded almost like compassion, “she’s had a worse day than any of us. She could probably use some rest before I make it worse yet.” 

-0-

Every cell in Octavia’s body was on fire. The pain had begun after the Big Purple Bastard had slammed her into the ground, but it wasn’t just the feeling of all the bones that had surely shattered at the impact. Before she’d even had a chance to comprehend that pain, the burning had started, covering her whole body and filling her mind with white noise until she could hardly keep from screaming. She’d felt the burn intensify around her back, ribs and broken arm, but then those areas faded back into the agonized mass that was her body a moment later.

She’d forced herself to her feet, tried her best to be aware of her surroundings, but once she knew that her enemy had escaped, all of the energy she’d been expending to keep herself on her feet seemed so pointless. Without really meaning to, she let herself crumple, face pressed into the sweet-smelling grass for what she hoped wouldn’t be the last time.

Still vaguely lucid, she felt someone lift her, and heard snatches of conversation as they went wherever the hell they were going. Pressing her eyes shut, she breathed through the pain, trying not to vomit all over the guy carrying her.

Apparently the Big Purple Bastard’s name was Thanos; he’d gotten one of the gem thingies from Dr. Strange a few minutes before he’d arrived to fight Steve Rogers, and Dr. Strange had known she and Steve would be there to keep him from taking the stones any further when he’d given his up. That was more than a little presumptuous of him, she thought sourly, and the injured man named Tony seemed to agree. 

After that, she could no longer focus on anything but how her body felt. At some point her center of gravity moved and she was on the ground again, her stomach heaving up bile and probably nothing else - when had she eaten last? Three days ago? Four? Someone was holding her hair back, and then time seemed to smear itself around her, and she was lying on her back in a bed, with entirely different voices conversing above her.

“When Jane had the Aether inside of her it was killing her!” a man was insisting, loud and agitated.

“Octavia’s people and those on Earth here and now share a common ancestor,” Dr. Strange was explaining tiredly, “but she’s several evolutionary steps farther along. She’ll adapt and survive.”

“Her cells are mutating to handle the stone’s presence,” a reedy woman’s slightly accented voice explained. “Based on the pattern here, I’d say she’ll have reached an optimal balance in about two hours.” 

“But if the idea is to blow the thing up, shouldn’t we...” someone else muttered worriedly, and Octavia recognized the voice of the man who’d told Bellamy and the others to stay put. She wondered if they had.

“You don’t blow up an Infinity Stone,” Strange enunciated slowly, cutting the speaker off, and Octavia could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Sure, Wanda Maximoff’s abilities could have fragmented the mind stone, but only because it would have regenerated inside of her due to the shared nature of her power. No, the stones are here to stay.”

“The ‘here’ part worries me,” interjected a speaker, accompanied by a slightly pained shuffle of footsteps. What had the man in the big red armor called him? Tony?

“You shouldn’t be up yet,” Strange admonished, and a number of other voices began speaking all at once. The cacophony of sound was too much for Octavia to follow, and she drifted again.

-0-

The pain faded to a warm ache that reminded her deliciously of the way her muscles felt after a good workout, and Octavia breathed deeply, savoring the welcome change. She blinked, her eyes taking in the well-lit room without the normal headache of awakening to light in her eyes that she expected.

“Back with us?” Steve’s voice greeted her, and she turned her head to see him in the bed to the right of hers, sitting up, one of his arms wrapped in bandages. Behind him, a man in blue leather armor with some sort of metal sleeve over his arm leaned sideways to look at her around Steve’s torso. Octavia glanced to her left, taking in the continuous row of white-sheeted beds and the clearly injured patients in them, and sat up gingerly, not sure she trusted the newfound relief in her body.

“I came to your planet on a refugee ship,” she started, wanting to rip the bandage off quickly. “Has anyone—”

“T’Challa sent a delegation to welcome them and see them to temporary habitation until there’s a chance to properly relocate them,” Steve assured her. Then he paused, looking uncomfortable. “Dr. Strange instructed the team not to let any of them know you were here. Is… everything okay?” Octavia blinked, taking in the wounded puppy look he was giving her, the way he hunched forwards, and the softness in his voice - and the way his brunette friend’s face was carefully blank, but his eyes were barely restrained from rolling.

She burst out laughing. Doubling over and clutching her miraculously healed ribs, she let her body shake out mirth until she couldn’t breathe.

“What? What did I say?” Steve was asking from somewhere above her.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled helplessly, wiping her eyes. “First I step on you, then I laugh in your face… I’m making a terrible first impression! Not my worst one, I guess,” she added sourly as she got herself under control. “It’s a long story,” she declined to explain, clearing her throat and reached up to pull the last of her hair free of her ruined braid. 

“No idea how Dr. Knows-Too-Much knows about it, but I guess he does,” she grumbled.

“Yeah,” a young voice explained suddenly, and three heads lifted to see a teenager reclining in a hammock that was apparently stuck to the ceiling, “Mr. Strange did the time stone thingy and looked into like 14 million different futures while we were on the titan planet.” Lifting himself free of the hammock, he walked down the wall like it was a flat floor and jumped lightly down between the beds.

“How long has he been up there?” the brunette man demanded in a gruff whisper. Steve shrugged helplessly.

“He said there was only one where we win, so I guess this is it. Or I hope so anyway. Hey, they said you basically swallowed an infinity stone - what did it taste like?” Octavia’s eye twitched. Undeterred, the kid forged ahead. “What planet are you from? They were saying you had a common ancestor with humans - I didn’t know that was a thing, like there are other planets out there with other humans on them? That’s so cool!” 

“Let her breathe, Peter,” A deep, even voice instructed. Octavia vaguely recognized the richly robed man as the one who’d worn the strange black armor. “I’m sure you have a great many questions,” he added as he reached the end of her bed. She swung her legs over to the left side, avoiding the now-apologizing teenager on her right, and reaching a hand out to shake his offered one. “I am king T’Challa, of Wakanda - the country you are in now. You are welcome here, and at the request of Dr. Strange, we have extended asylum to you until the political situation among your own people can be resolved.”

“Yeah, a resolution would be me dying - or leaving,” Octavia said bluntly, locating her sword leaning against a small table and reaching for it. “I hadn’t intended to stay this long - didn’t expect killing the big purple bastard to be more than one fight.”

“Cocky,” the brunette in the background commented.

“I’m missing something serious here aren’t I?” Peter said quietly.

“Ya’ think?” the brunette hissed. 

“Bucky,” Steve said warningly.

“Well,” T’Challa responded calmly, “any plans that involve you dying will need to be postponed - according to our analysis, you’re functionally immortal while the Infinity Stone remains in your system.”

Octavia blinked, not sure what to think about that. She blinked again. And again. King T’Challa was opening his mouth to speak again, and she could see Steve out of the corner of her eye - he had that look again, like he was going to ask if she needed a hug, and— 

“Yeah, that’s—” she felt herself saying, “that’s not going to work for me.” 

“I understand that you may—” he started, but she cut him off, her words coming out in a sharp growl.

“Shop of! Yu getin laik nada, nomonjoka!” She shoved past him - he reached out to catch her arm but she shook him off. He made another grab, and as she whirled her arm in an arc to dislodge his grip, a blast of red light exploded from her skin where he touched her. 

King T’Challa went flying head over heels - Octavia saw Peter jump in and catch him safely out of the corner of her eye as she fled the room.

Her heart was pounding in her throat. People were shouting behind her, and two sets of footsteps started to catch up. She didn’t look back to see whose they were.

Couldn’t even kill one guy.

Couldn’t even walk away afterwards.

Strangers knew everything about her.

Functionally immortal…

She wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

And then she was falling, watching neatly cut sections of floor after floor passing her by. In the space above her she saw Steve and Bucky’s faces staring in shock at her descent, and somehow that snapped her out of whatever state she’d been in; the next floor was solid and she smashed into it. With a bitten off cry of pain she pulled herself to her feet and took off running in the first direction that suited her. What the hell had just happened? 

Infinity stone.

Cells mutating.

Functionally immortal.

She fell to her knees in the middle of some hallway somewhere, heaving up bile again. Voices speaking in an unfamiliar language approached her, and she stumbled to her feet again, eyes searching the space for an escape route.

“Octavia!” she heard Steve shout, just as she located an outside window. She bolted for it, unsure of what she hoped to find on the other side: a manageable drop so she could run off into the woods, retrieve her bag, and keep going until she was far, far away from everyone and everything - or a fall far enough to kill her and put her out of everyone’s misery.

With a wave of her hand, she peeled open the glass like a curtain, flinging herself out towards the setting sun. 

The fall was long. But before she could get anywhere close to the ground, a sparking gold circle opened up beneath her, and she had the sudden sensation of falling upwards for a moment before crashing back onto a wooden floor. Rolling to her feet in a ready stance, she drew her sword as the portal closed.

“Stephen wasn’t kidding,” a portly man in dark red robes commented with a deep belly laugh. “You really are a live wire.” 

Trigedasleng Translations:

I had to make up a couple of words because I couldn’t find the translations online - if you notice an error in my use of trig, please feel free to message me and let me know what it’s supposed to say!

Shop of! Yu getin laik nada, nomonjoka! = Be quiet! You understand nothing, motherfucker!

To Be Continued...

[ravs6709]

Song of Rebirth- (TFI(HDDTG) bonus)

Read on ao3.

Masterlist. Previous. Next.

So uhhhhh, you probably noticed that chapter 2 of TFI(HDDTG) has lyrics for the siren song.

First off, most of that was made on my own. A few lines have some inspiration from the sirens song from Siren's Lament (yknow, the story this fic is inspired from)

Second off, I uh... sang it? I'm very much not a fan of my voice, but... it could have turned out much worse? So yeah, here's your bonus content where you get to hear it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Oh you with that broken heart,

You, whose life's falling apart.

Have you come here to the sea,

To drown in your memories?

The weight of them is too strong,

Crushing you, it's all so wrong.

May the waves wash all the tears,

That you've gathered through the years.

But what if there was a way,

To make the pain go away?

To leave behind your sorrows,

Enter a new tomorrow.

I have an offer for you,

You can start your life anew.

You can escape the abyss,

All I ask is for one kiss.

[ravs6709]

Rest of the year timeline of fics to write (this is for myself to see because im lost on what to prioritize)

[Redacted]'s gift - soon, already well in progress

Chapter 5 of wyswm(odsom) - preferably done first week of september

[Redacted 2]'s gift- haven't started this but needed less soon and I've already picked out what i want to do for it

Chapter 6 of wwswm(odsom)- early to mid september

The science of sunlight update- idk will prolly be like a mid to end September thing

the prankster team update- ig late september/early october???

October is dedicated to either a break or writing some short fun oneshots that are currently in my brain. Or maybe a chapter of tfi(hddtg). Prolly should write that tbh

[Redacted 3]'s gift and [Redacted 4]'s gifts for november. Maybe chill a bit too because november is usually a busy time at school

December maybe I'll go for another the science of sunlight chapter. Maybe double update actually and i can finally end that fic because I'm so close

And ig if I do a double update I can chill with anything else. Or do a oneshot too if it invades my brain