#a part of it helps that magneto can just sound so Polite with these voice lines LMAO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

master-sass-blast · 3 years ago

Text

This Life is Infinite: Chapter One.

OH YEAH. IT'S TIME, BITCHES!!!

Summary: The Infinity War Fic aka I do whatever the fuck I want with the Russo's canon.

Get ready for the most ambitious crossover in CHC history.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin, and Kitty Pryde x Illyana Rasputin.

Rating: M for canon typical violence and death threats.

Word Count: 10k... oops.

Set after "Children of the Gods: Part Three."

Author's Note: Tentatively, I’m back from my hiatus. Things are nowhere near settled with my mental health, but I’m feeling well enough to post again.

I think it mostly goes without saying that updates for this series might be a little irregular going forward; not only do I need to take care of myself, but I also need to find a better balance with posting fanfiction and the rest of my life. As always, I will do my best to be clear with you all about what to expect in terms of updates and wait times.

Thank you again for your compassion and understanding.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

It’s not every day that mysterious, leather-clad men appear –quite literally, considering they teleported in—in your kitchen unannounced.

(Okay, perhaps they don’t qualify as “mysterious” when one of them is your dad, one of them is your brother, and the third is your uncle, but there’s a fourth man with them that you don’t recognize, so you like to think that the principle of the expression remains intact.)

You glance between Nate, Wade, your uncle, and the aforementioned unrecognized fourth man, then lift the box of cereal you’d been pouring into a bowl by way of greeting. “Breakfast?”

***

(The fourth man, as it turns out, goes by the code name “Kronos” –which, in terms of super cool code names, ranks at about an eight.)

“There’s a war coming,” Nate explains while the four of you stand around your kitchen counter. “Apocalypse is stirring. He’ll be sending his allies to Earth to initiate the first stage of the war, so that he’ll encounter less resistance when he comes to rule.”

“‘s called ‘The Decimation,’” Wade interjects as he shovels spoonfuls of Lucky Charms into his mouth. He points at his bowl, then jerks his head at the fridge. “D’ y’all have chocolate syrup?”

“Yeah, second shelf on the door.” You take another bite of your cereal, swallow, then ask Nathan, “What… what happens with ‘The Decimation?’”

“One of Apocalypse’s allies, Thanos, will arrive with his armies and generals. He’ll use his own forces to annihilate the heroes of Earth, then he’ll finish assembling the Infinity Stones and gauntlet and use them to wipe out half of all life across the cosmos.”

You purse your lips together and eye your dad warily. “If… if this was anyone other than you saying this, I’d say this all sounds like a hackneyed comic book and-or movie plot.”

“His information checks out,” Kronos says, voice low and gravelly. “Our cross-temporal intel confirms communications between Apocalypse and Thanos. We might have a few weeks to prepare for Thanos’s arrival –and that’s if we’re lucky.”

Wade snorts and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “handwavey bullshit” under his breath.

You look to your uncle. “And you’re here because��”

“Need to talk to Xavier,” your uncle answers, “and then alert the Avengers and anyone else that can help us face Thanos.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “And you stopped here first because…”

“I was hungry,” Wade blurts as he drizzles more chocolate syrup on top of his cereal.

“You have credibility,” Nathan says while shooting Wade an equally annoyed and endeared look. “Xavier and Piotr listen to you, and the rest of the X-Men listen to them. We can’t afford to deal with a bunch of hesitating and infighting right now. We need to get our shit together and defeat Thanos, or the world as we know it is fucked.”

“Question.” Wade lifts his spoon. “Does Donald Trump die in this decimation bullshit?”

“We’ll deal with him later,” your uncle stage-whispers to Wade.

“If you’re all sure…” You wait for all four of them to nod, then sigh and shrug. “Alright. I think most of the X-Men are training right now. Let’s go talk to them.”

***

“This all sounds fucking insane.”

Wade gasps. The eyes on his mask widen as he lifts a gloved hand to where his mouth is under his mask. “James Doohan used a no-no word! My goodness gracious golly!”

Scott Summers scowls, but otherwise ignores Wade. He turns to the Professor, expression incredulous. “Do you believe… any of this?”

Xavier grimaces. “Our sources through Kronos” –he gestures to your uncle’s colleague—“have been confirming the intentions of Apocalypse for several years now. The difficulty was always in determining when Apocalypse would act, and in which timeline –though, now that we have Cable’s intel, we’ve been able to figure those two details out.”

“If Thanos is as powerful as you’re saying,” Ororo pipes up, looking at Nathan, “then how are we supposed to defeat him?”

“Any way we can,” Nathan fires back, expression grim.

“Our intel says that Thanos only has three of the six Infinity Stones, along with the gauntlet,” Kronos adds. “If we can keep the last three stones out of his hands and defeat his armies here on Earth, we’ll have better odds of facing Apocalypse down the road.”

“Right,” Jean says. “And where are the last three stones?”

“The Mind Stone is in the possession of Vision, an android created by Ultron, who now works with the Avengers,” Kronos explains. “The Time Stone is in the possession of Doctor Stephen Strange, who leads an order of sorcerers and magic users in New York. The Soul Stone… has yet to be located.”

“And we’re sure that Thanos is coming here?” Ororo asks, brows raised in skepticism.

“One of the unifying features across the pertinent timelines is a battle that takes place on Earth, specifically in the country of Wakanda,” Kronos answers. “Regardless of the other features in the timeline, there is always a major confrontation between Thanos and the forces of earth there.”

“Great,” Rogue deadpans, expression flat. “Now we just have to convince them to let us in. ‘Excuse me, your Majesty T’Challa, but there’s an evil spaceman that is collecting all powerful rhinestones and he’s going to come here to try and wipe out half of all life on Earth, so we need you to let us into your country with strict visitation policies to we can help you fight him.’ Yeah, that’ll go over real well.”

“We don’t have time to waste on sarcastic bullshit,” Nathan grits out, cybernetic eye flaring as he glares at Rogue. “We’ll handle getting the Avengers and Wakanda on board,” he says, turning to the Professor. “I take it we can trust you to get your team and Magneto collected?”

“I’ll contact Erik,” Xavier promises before looking over at your husband. “Piotr, would you mind calling your family? I believe, given the severity of the coming conflict, having as many hands as possible would be in our best interests.”

Piotr nods. “Konechno –of course.” He looks up at you from where he’s sitting, confusion clear in his sky blue eyes—

“You good to come with us?” Nathan asks, tapping your shoulder lightly to get your attention. “We’ll need help talking to Stark.”

“Huh? Uh –yeah. Sure.” You look back at Piotr; the request to ask for five minutes, just five minutes, to talk to your husband is on the tip of your tongue—

Nate tugs you –gently—a couple inches closer, then says, “Bodyslide by five.”

The room blurs, then disappears from view.

***

You’ve only bodyslid with Nathan a handful of times –and each time you do, you’re always caught off guard by how fucking weird it feels.

Your stomach lurches like you’ve just gone down the steepest drop on a rollercoaster, even though the ground remains steady beneath your feet. In a flash, there’s a brand new room in front of you –sleek, monochromatic cabinets, white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and fixtures, the works. The space oozes sophistication, function, style –and money. So much money.

Given everything you’ve heard about Tony Stark, it makes sense.

“Deep breaths,” Nathan says. He places a steadying hand on your shoulder while you blink rapidly. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

You do your best to comply –though it’s a bit difficult, given that your brain is shrieking ‘sensory overload’ while trying to adjust to the new lighting, the new sounds, the sensation of having moved without really having moved at all, at least in the sense of walking or riding in a car—

And then alarms start blaring. Red lights flash, klaxons go off, the works.

Wade swears and claps his hands over his ears. “Christ! For a guy who has literal robots that can wipe his ass with dollar bills, you think he’d invest in something a little easier on the ears!”

“Wilson!” The klaxons and red lights cut out, replaced by various whirring noises and the sound of hurried, angry footsteps. “I swear to God, if you’ve hijacked one of my jets again, I’m gonna –who the fuck are all of you?”

Tony Stark looks… nothing like what you see in the papers. Granted, his face and hair look largely the same, but he’s not wearing the crisp, stylish suits that all the magazines, articles, papers, and interviews feature him wearing. He’s got on a worn, holey Metallica shirt, ripped, grease stained jeans, and a pair of scuffed sneakers that look like they might’ve been purchased ten years ago, for all that they’re barely holding together.

The army of security bots hovering and whirring around him, however, do fit his press image.

“Jon Snow!” Wade chirps, waggling his fingers at the harried “genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist.” “Long time, no talk. How’s Daenerys doing?”

“Summers, would you do me a favor and put your psychopath on a leash?” Tony asks, tone less than polite or pleasant as he focuses on Nate. “Preferably a nice short one that’s far away from me?”

“We’re here to talk,” Nathan says –though he does stop Wade from trying to play with the knives in the block on the kitchen counter. “It’s a matter of life and death. The well-being of the entire universe is at stake.”

“Yeah, been there, done that,” Tony says, looking none too impressed.

“One of your colleagues may have mentioned his name,” Kronos interjects, taking a step forward. “Does the word ‘Thanos’ ring any bells?”

Tony’s expression sobers for an instant, but he hides it quickly enough. “This is private property, and you’re all—”

A red being with a green suit and a yellow gem in the center of his forehead emerges from the floor. He places himself between Tony and the rest of you. “Would you like me to escort them out, Mr. Stark?”

“Ah, Casper the Friendly Android with No Concept of Personal Boundaries Despite the Infinite Knowledge!” Wade fires back, waving cheerfully. “How you doing, twenty-twenty?”

Vision sighs, longsuffering. “You have been expressly forbidden from these premises, Mr. Wilson.”

“Unless he’s here under my direct supervision,” Nathan fires back. “Stark, we need to talk about this—”

“Tony?” A tall, elegant woman with red hair wearing a tailored, navy blue dress walks up behind the man in question. She flashes you all a polite smile, but there’s no missing the way her gaze cautiously assesses each one of you. “I’m guessing these aren’t –oh. Wade’s here.”

Wade waves in response. “Hi, Miss Potts! How’s being a CEO?”

“It’s going very well, thank you,” Pepper replies politely –though, this time, she’s scanning the room for missing objects and-or visible damage. When nothing turns up, she looks back at Tony. “Are we escorting them out?”

“They claim to have information about the end of the world,” Tony says, tone flippant –though the grave expression on his face belies his snark. “About Thanos.”

Recognition flashes over Pepper’s face, though her polite mask never fully slips. She nods, then says, “Are we going to listen to them?”

“Probably should,” Tony replies in the same lackadaisical tone. “I’m not turning off the security drones while Wilson��s here, though.”

“Just for that, I’m pissing in your Ficus before I leave,” Wade huffs.

“That seems like it’s for the best,” Pepper tells Tony, smiling going tight at the edges while she stares at Wade. She takes a breath, steeling herself, then steps past Tony and nods at the rest of you in greeting. “Sorry for the confusion. Would you mind coming with us, so we can talk somewhere more comfortable?”

***

“I started connecting the dots after Thor left,” Tony explains, twirling a pencil between his fingers as he paces back and forth. “He mentioned Thanos briefly –but with the destruction and repurposing of Loki’s staff, the straggling records of Dormammu’s attack and the use of the Time Stone by Strange, the roles that the Tesseract and Loki’s staff played in the attack on New York by the Chitauri…” He sighs, pausing to stare out at the window at some unseen object before grimacing and shrugging. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

You’re all gathered in a conference room –which, as with the kitchen, carries the same modern, sleek style. Floor to ceiling windows show off the training grounds and the forest that conceals the base from the rest of the world. A massive plasma TV takes up one of the far walls, while the other walls are taken up by various dormant, holographic and electronic displays (made by Stark himself, no doubt). A black, oblong table sits in the center of the room, with leather, silver studded swivel chairs positioned around it.

“How many are there?” Tony asks, looking first at Kronos, then at Nathan. “How much time do we have?”

“There are six Infinity Stones in total,” Kronos says. “Thanos already has three –the Space stone, which was contained by the Tesseract, the Reality stone and the Power stone. Your colleague, Vision—” he gestures to the android “—is in possession of the Mind Stone already, and Stephen Strange has the Time Stone. Our agents have been unable to confirm the whereabouts of the Soul Stone, but we’re certain that Thanos doesn’t have it.”

“Yet,” Tony adds, tone pessimistic.

“As far as time goes, we have a few days at most,” Nathan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe a week, if we’re lucky.”

Tony grimaces. “That doesn’t bode well for rebuilding international relations on a dime. Or team morale for that matter.”

“Sort it out,” Nathan gravels out. “We’ve got bigger issues.”

“We won’t have time for issues if we can’t even pull a team together,” Tony snaps.

“If it helps…” Kronos withdraws a flash drive from his jacket pocket and holds it out to Tony. “The evidence of Thanos’s collection of the stones and his plans to come here.”

Tony accepts the flash drive. He turns it over in his fingers a couple times –no doubt mentally comparing the drive to the technology he’s created—then pockets it. “And Xavier’s on board with all this?”

You blink when you realize everyone’s staring at you. “Uh –yes. He’s contacting Erik Lensherr for some additional support, and the rest of the X-Men are ready to take on Thanos as well.”

“Great.” Tony stares down at the table for a moment, expression slightly melancholy but otherwise inscrutable, but then he snaps back to his usual self. “Good meeting. I’ll text you with the details.”

“Ooh, does that mean we’re trading numbers?” Wade gasps, pressing his hands on either side of his face. “I’ll put you on my favorites list.”

“I’ll contact Xavier,” Tony amends, shooting Wade a slightly harried look.

“We’ll be ready,” you assure him, at a loss for what else to say as you hook your arm around Wade’s to keep him from messing with the holographic display system.

“Vision will escort you out,” Pepper says with a polite smile and nod.

“I’ll make you a friendship bracelet, Tony the Tiger!” Wade calls as you and Nathan gently usher him towards the door. “Wait –stop shoving me! I need to get his wrist size!”

“Later, gorgeous,” Nate says with a barely suppressed smile.

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh, but the stony foreboding weighing down your gut makes it too hard to even muster up a chuckle –especially when you catch Tony slumping down into one of the conference room chairs with a despairing expression on his face. You force yourself to focus on getting Wade out of the Avenger’s headquarters without stealing anything –though that does little to calm your swirling thoughts. How in the hell are we gonna pull this off?

***

“Are you okay?”

You sigh, instinctively wriggling back against Piotr’s chest as he lays down behind you. “Define ‘okay.’”

It’s nearly midnight now. Between contacting other allies for help –Nathan had you all bodysliding around New York for the better part of the day to reach out to the Hell’s Kitchen figures—and learning up about Thanos’s army and what could be expected in a confrontation against him, you didn’t get home until well after dinner.

You’re in bed now, too tired for anything else. You stare out the windows that overlook the balcony, purposefully trying to keep your mind blank so you don’t grow overwhelmed by the chaos buzzing in your brain.

Because this is insane. This is beyond mutant trafficking or petty grievances between groups of mutant rivals or even being gunned down by the mafia. This is beyond abusive parents, groups of hateful bigots, or anti-mutant legislators.

It’s –quite literally—the fate of the entire world. The entire galaxy. Based on Nathan’s reports of the future, half of all life is wiped out. People, animals, plants –all gone, dissolved into piles of ash… and for what? So some egomaniac can have his moment of glory?

Your stomach curdles when you even try to contemplate a life without Piotr.

“Hey.” Piotr draws you in close when you start crying. “Tische, myshka. Everything is okay.”

“But it’s not.” You sniff, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “Nothing about this is fucking okay, Piotr. Someone’s gonna wipe out half of the damn universe because he wants to jerk off to it later.”

“He has to go through us, first,” Piotr reminds you as he presses soft, sweet kisses against your cheek.

“We don’t have the numbers,” you point out bleakly. “We don’t have the ammunition. We don’t have the time to make a solid plan, or to prepare any extra defenses, or—”

Piotr hugs you tight. He kisses the top of your head. His hand strokes up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you.

You grip his other hand, holding him close to you. You focus on how warm and solid he is. How wonderful he is and how lovely your life is with him. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and cry some more.

***

The call comes in at five thirty in the morning.

“Stark’s brought around the other Avengers and Wakanda,” Nathan says, sounding far more alert than you ever will at this godforsaken hour. “We’re lifting off at seven.”

“Roger that,” you manage while Piotr turns on the bedside lamp and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. “We’ll be ready.” You set down your phone when the call ends, then groan and drop your head into your pillow. Why can’t the end of the world ever happen in the afternoon?

***

The Blackbird jets are loaded to maximum capacity. Aside from carrying the X-Men and the X-Force exclusive members, you’re also ferrying the Hell’s Kitchen vigilantes, Piotr’s family and Allison, your uncle and his team, and the younger children and their parents to Wakanda for safe-keeping (your uncle’s reasoning was that an enemy of the institute might notice the sudden lack of protection and decide to attack the younger, more vulnerable students and their families for vengeance, so it was better to be safe than sorry).

You keep close to Piotr or to the cockpit, but there’s still no avoiding the tense, cramped feeling.

You’re not the only “birds” in the sky, either. It’s practically a whole convoy, flying out to Wakanda in what might’ve been a formation if Wade didn’t occasionally grab the control and try to do a “barrel roll.” Magneto and his forces are flying in their own airship, while the Avengers are leading their pack in Tony’s custom, “cutting edge of technology” jets.

You watch the small fleet of jets that belong to the Avengers, lips pursed into a tight line. Your gaze darts over to the navigation board every few seconds, tracking your miniscule progress across the Atlantic Ocean towards Wakanda.

There’s a heavy sigh behind you, and then an even heavier pair of arms settle around your shoulders. “Myshka. You should rest.”

You “hmm” softly to let Piotr know you heard him, but you don’t step away from the cockpit door.

He kisses the top of head and starts gently rubbing your neck with his thumbs. “Will be several hours before arrival, dorogoy. There is nothing you can do until then.”

“It feels like wasting time,” you murmur back –because, naturally, Piotr’s seen to the heart of the issue already. “We’ve got so much to do.”

“And we can do nothing until we arrive in Wakanda.” Piotr kisses your temple, then gently nudges you away from the cockpit. “Come sit with me, lyublyu. You will need full energy when we land.”

And that, above all else, is the only reason you let Piotr usher you over to the nearest seat.

You crawl into his lap once he sits, curling up in his arms. You lay your head on his shoulder and let his warmth combined with the gentle thrum of the jet’s sonic engines lull you to sleep.

***

Wakanda is simultaneously everything and nothing like what you expected.

There’s a force shield that surrounds the inner part of the country that gives way as the convoy of ships pass through it. It almost seems to shimmer out of view before revealing an elegant, shining palace and curved, glimmering towers that comprise the larger part of the city. Lush jungle and towering, ice-capped mountains border the city, split by a winding river and rushing waterfalls.

It almost looks too beautiful to be real.

The awe-inducing visuals and technology don’t stop as the convoy flies out to a glittering, black glass structure that, on the navigation board, is labeled as the lab of Princess Shuri. The convoy swoops around to a massive hangar at the base of the building, landing just inside on the polished stone and metal floor.

Waiting for all of you in the hangar is King T’Challa Udaku; he’s wearing a black robe embroidered with silver thread and a vibrant kente scarf, and generally looks every bit as poised and unflappable as he did in the UN interviews. He’s flanked by his Dora Milaje soldiers –who are undeniably badass with their armor and spears, and you catch Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty all staring at the women in awe—and his partner, Nakia, and his sister, Princess Shuri.

Tony and Professor Xavier handle the introductions with the King, which lets you stretch and take in the hangar and throngs of superheroes. You recognize a few of them –Captain America aka Steve Rogers, Ant-Man aka Scott Lang and his entourage --including a man with dark hair styled like Elvis that you recall seeing in some sort of news interview a while back and a young woman with curly brown hair and warm eyes that’s holding his hand-- and War Hero ,aka James Rhodes, aka Tony’s best friend and “work wife”—but some of the entourage members are new to you.

You take a moment to stretch out your back –sleeping in Piotr’s lap isn’t the worst quality rest you’ve ever had, but given the configurations of the jet seats it was a little cramped—and admire the glimmering, inlaid lights on the hangar ceiling. Swanky.

“We have space prepared for the upcoming preparations and hosting all of you,” T’Challa says, voice cutting through the din of the crowd with ease. “If you would all follow Princess Shuri, please.”

Shuri smiles, then motions for everyone to follow her out of the hangar.

Half of the Dora Milaje break away from the formation, keeping a protective line between the princess and everyone else.

You fall into stride alongside your husband, well-practiced by now at matching your steps to his long stride.

***

The “prepared space” winds up being three massive rooms, each with smaller rooms sectioned around the main spaces, a kitchen-slash-rec area that joins the three massive rooms in the center, and three large, communal style bathrooms with multiple stalls for toilets and showers. The main rooms have several long, workstation style tables at them, with some beds stationed at the fringes, and the smaller rooms function only as bedrooms, mostly for the families with kids and the handful of couples present.

“This interface,” Princess Shuri says as she taps on a small disk embedded into the wall, “will let you contact security and staff if you have questions or need to speak with someone. There’s one in each room, for easy access. It will begin glowing and beeping if someone’s trying to send a call to you; you answer by pressing the base,” she explains, demonstrating on the disk.

“We’re expecting another group of people,” Tony pipes up. “Strange is collecting some of our allies from the South Eastern Quadrant. They should be here in the next sixteen hours, give or take.”

Shuri nods. “We’ll contact you when they arrive.” She offers the group a magnanimous nod and smile, then strides out the hall you all entered through, flanked by the Dora Milaje soldiers.

For a moment, no one moves. You all stand around, hesitating as you all try to take in the new scenery and space.

Alex moves first. She sighs, then grabs her duffel and strides towards the nearest workroom. “No point in waiting.”

Her initiative seems to jolt everyone else out of their daze. Everyone sections off, largely sticking with the groups of their original affiliation.

You amble alongside Piotr, peering around the workroom as you try to decide where to set your pack. Here goes nothing.

***

We’re staring down the apocalypse, you muse as you watch everyone set up shop, and it’s all coming down to sewing machines.

It’d come as a shock when Alexandra had lugged the sleek, white machine out of its carrying case. She’d set it on one of the tables, then lifted bolts of thick, rugged Kevlar out of one of her duffels next. Thread, scissors, measuring tape, and gridded cutting boards follow the Kevlar—

And then the sewing machine jammed as soon as Alex turned it on.

“Ty meshok der'ma,” Alex mutters under her breath as she fiddles with the internal mechanisms of the sewing machine. She glares at the gears, grumbling and swearing while she prods at them with a pair of tweezers. “Kakogo khrena tvoya problema?”

The situation seems mundane in its inanity.

The end of the damn world, and we’re being thwarted by twenty pounds of plastic and metal.

“Day mne poprobovat'.” Nikolai crouches down next to his wife. He adjusts the reading glasses perched on his nose, then aims a small flashlight at the interior of the machine. He murmurs and tuts in Russian while prodding at the machine –and then he makes a soft noise of exclamation. “Broken needle. Pryamo tam.”

“Sukin syn.” Alex uses her telekinesis to draw out the metal shard, then lets out an exasperated sigh and spreads her arms when the machine finally makes the proper start up noises. “Thank you.”

“Be nice,” Nikolai chides her with a teasing grin. “Is uncomfortable, having metal stuck in organs. You would not want to work either.”

“I’ve had metal in my organs,” Alex grumbles as she gets her sewing machine configured. “I still managed.” She smirks when Nikolai laughs, then kisses her husband’s cheek before motioning for you to approach. “Come here, ptitsa. I want to reinforce your suit; I need your measurements.”

You round the table, shucking off your sweatshirt so Alex can measure your torso. “Is there anything I need to do?”

“Just hold still, malenkiy,” Alex murmurs as she runs her tape measure around your waist.

“I make no promises,” you joke.

Alex snorts, then moves her measuring tape up to your ribcage.

***

The waiting is, somehow, worse now.

At least on the plan there was a promise of a destination. A sense of the temporary, that you’d be up and moving and doing again within a few hours.

Unfortunately, reality is so often different from how you envision it, just as it is now. Because the reality of the situation is that there are only a limited number of people capable of helping. Nate and Tony are working with the Princess to configure weapons to fight Thanos’s forces, Hank and the healers are preparing a makeshift medical bay, Frank, Wade, Mikhail, and Neena are cleaning and checking guns, Alex, Piotr and Nikolai are taking turns working on fabricating armor for those who need it—

Leaving you with nothing to do. Aside from keeping those who are working well fed and hydrated and managing the kids, all you can do is sit and watch while everyone else prepares.

It’s agony. Your chest aches from stress, and your stomach’s churning so much you can barely choke food down at mealtimes. I need to help more. I need to do something, dammit.

It’s like being in line for random execution and having no idea whether you’re going to be shot or not.

You stay close to Piotr. You run food and snacks and drinks for anyone who needs it. You help manage the kids when the need arises –but since most of their parents are here, the incidents are far and few between.

You sit. And you wait.

It’s all you can do.

***

“Absolutely not.”

“You need to be reasonable.”

“I am. It’s perfectly reasonable to keep a fourteen-year-old off a fucking battlefield!”

Alex sighs. She leans back in her seat and raises an eyebrow at her eldest daughter. “Normally I would agree, but I don’t think you’ll have much say in the matter. Your ability to control her is notably lacking.”

Artemis huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You try reining in a teenager who’s realized there’s no consequences to her actions.”

“I’m not judging, merely observing,” Alex assures her daughter. “But, at any rate, it’s not unreasonable to predict that she’ll join the fray at some point. Body armor is a necessity.”

“It’s an invitation! She’ll take it as permission!”

“Artemis?” Allison sticks her head into the room, then strides over to her mentor-slash-surrogate mother. “Is everything okay? Who’s getting permission to do what?”

“No one is,” Artemis grumbles, even as she holds her arm out so the teen can lean against her side. “Especially not you.”

Allison lets out a disgusted sigh and rolls her eyes. “I already told you—”

“You’re not fighting.”

“I can handle myself!” Allison snaps. She jerks away from Tatianna, scowling. “You’re treating me like a baby!”

“Compared to me, you are a baby,” the older woman points out drily.

“It’s not your burden to bear,” Alex interjects, fixing the testy teen with an even –though not harsh—stare. “Teenagers shouldn’t have to fight for the future of the world. That’s for adults to handle.”

“No one gets to decide,” Allison grits out, “what my burdens are. And this isn’t about ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t.’”

The corner of Alex’s mouth twitches. She looks up at Artemis, brows raised.

Artemis sighs. She tips her head back, staring up at the ceiling, then looks down at Allison. “You need body armor to keep you safe. That does not mean, however, that you’ll be joining us in the fight against Thanos.”

Allison sweeps her tongue along the inside of her cheek. She crosses her arms and cocks her head to the side. “Pretty sure you don’t get to decide that.”

“Pretty sure you should listen to me,” Artemis fires back, “since I have more experience and am telling you that it’s too much for you to handle.” She lets out an exasperated breath when Allison rolls her eyes, then waves her hand dismissively as if to say ‘I tried.’ “Get her set up.”

Alex nods, then waves Allison over. “Alright, malenkiy. Let’s get you sorted.”

***

“Are you asleep?”

“Nyet.” Piotr rolls over, drapes an arm over you, and kisses your forehead. “I would ask you the same, but…”

You manage a small chuckle. “Pretty obvious answer, yeah.”

The two of you are in one of the private rooms –if only because (aside from your status as married) it has a bed big enough to accommodate Piotr. There’s a small window that overlooks a cavern beneath the lab. Dim, blue light seeps through the glass pane, but it’s not enough to properly illuminate the room.

Piotr’s fingers skim over your upper arm. “Why are you not sleeping, myshka?”

“Can’t,” you admit, voice wavering. You take a deep breath through your nose and try to calm yourself. “I just… I can’t handle not doing anything. It gives me too much time to think about what might happen.”

Piotr croons gently, drawing you in closer so he can tuck you against his chest. He cradles your head with one massive head. “Dorogoy. You know such things are not good for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” you grumble, eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Doesn’t mean that knowledge stops my brain any.”

“Ya znayu,” Piotr murmurs as he kisses your temple. “But everything is going to be alright, myshka.”

“Except it really might not be,” you argue, voice shaking. You grip the material of his shirt, as though he might be wrenched away from you at any moment and whisked away into the wind. “It really might not, Piotr.”

Your husband doesn’t say anything in response to that. He merely holds you closer still and strokes his fingers through your hair.

You press your forehead against his chest and start weeping quietly.

***

The second day is much like the first –a slow, agonizing crawl punctuated by overwhelming anxiety and exhaustion.

You linger at the table where Nate, Tony, and Ellie are modifying guns, handing the three various tools and materials when they ask for it. You watch their progress numbly, brain devoid of anything other than wordless worry.

At least, you watch until Nate texts Piotr to come get you.

“Davay, myshka,” your husband coaxes as he lifts you off your stool. He grunts slightly as he shifts you into a bridal-style hold, then carries you away from the table and out of the room. “Let’s have lunch.”

“But—”

“Is important to stay fed and hydrated.”

“—I was helping.” You peer past Piotr’s arm –then sigh when Nathan gives you a sympathetic, concerned smile and waves you along. “Baby—”

“Just for little bit.” Piotr sets you down when you ask, but he keeps a hand on your shoulder, just in case. “Is not good to sit and stew in anxiety.”

You drop your gaze to the floor. “You can’t prove anything.”

Piotr lifts his hand from your shoulder and cradles your cheek. He strokes his thumb against your skin, waiting until you look up at him before speaking again. “Come have lunch with me, moya lyubov’,” he says with an adoring smile (which you’re certain is a deliberate, tactical move on his part to make sure you don’t try and argue, and dammit if it isn’t working). “I would enjoy your company.”

You scuff the toe of your sneaker against the floor, but ultimately acquiesce. “Alright. I guess I should take a break.”

***

The snooping starts after lunch, while Alex is chewing Frank out for spray-painting his bullet proof vest.

“What, are you looking to ruin perfectly good Kevlar?” Alex gripes as she tosses Frank’s “Punisher” vest aside. “You want to break down the material? Get shot out like some schmuck because you decided to be an artist?”

“It’s strategic,” Frank argues with a good-natured, crooked grin. “Keeps my enemies’ line of sight trained on where I have the most protection.”

Alex nods and makes a sarcastic noise of assent. “‘Strategic.’ Is that what it is? Ya ne mogu v eto poverit'. V moye vremya my nazyvali strategiyu pobedoy, a ne stavili svoyu grebanuyu vizitnuyu kartochku na kazhdoye sovershennoye nami proklyatoye ubiystvo. Get your ass over here, drama boy.” She scoffs and starts measuring Frank’s chest and shoulders. “‘Strategiya,’” she scoffs. “What a load of horse shit.”

“Akh akh,” Nikolai tuts as he walks into the room with a plate of food and glass of water. “What is happening here?”

“I’m pretty sure I upset the apple cart, sir,” Frank says, unabashed.

Nikolai chuckles while Alexandra brings up to speed, ranting in irritated Russian. He sets the plate and glass on the table next to his wife, kisses her head, then ambles back out to the kitchen—

And that’s when you notice it. Or, rather, her.

Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow. Renowned spy, assassin, weapons and espionage expert, and former member of the Avengers if the debacle surrounding the Sokovia Accords is to be believed.

She’s sitting at the kitchen counter on barstool, tapping away at her phone –which isn’t inherently suspicious, but her line of sight lets her look directly into the room you’re all situated in and—

She’s watching Alex.

At first you think she might be watching Frank (which, fair enough, having a mass murderer, somewhat unstable vigilante around is a reasonable cause for caution). But when Frank gets up and walks out (probably to go find Karen), Natasha doesn’t even move. Her gaze –when she’s not looking at her phone—stays fixed on Alexandra while she works at her sewing machine.

For once, you’re grateful Piotr is as large as he is; he makes a great hiding spot to do countersurveillance from.

Natasha approaches slowly, but deliberately. She talks to someone on her phone –whether she’s faking or not doesn’t matter to you, because she still uses it to get off the barstool and amble around while she’s talking. Then, she has a conversation with Captain Rogers, which she uses to get a few feet closer to the doorway.

At some point, you’re not certain if she realizes you’re watching her, only because she gives up the pretense of trying to hide her snooping entirely. She leans against the doorframe, watching Alex intently while she marks, pins, and cuts out fabric.

It’s Illyana who has enough of the whole thing first. Three minutes into Natasha standing in the door way, the blonde sighs, sets her phone down on the work table, and glares up at the red head. “Kakogo khrena ty khochesh?”

Natasha purses her lips slightly. She acknowledges Illyana with a brief glance, then turns her focus back to Alex. “Alexandra.”

“Natalia,” Alex says by way of greeting, not even bothering to look up from her work. “Are you here to help, or are you here to waste my time?”

She grimaces, but recovers and smiles politely. “It’s been a long time.”

“So, you’re here to waste my time,” Alex surmises as she pins a pattern to a piece of heavy black Kevlar.

Natasha swallows reflexively, then turns on her heel and walks away.

***

Half an hour later, it’s Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes’s turn.

The two supersoldiers are far less covert than Agent Romanoff. They stand in the middle of the rec room, a few feet away from the door, and don’t make any attempt to hide their conversation or the fact that they’re watching Alex (and, to some extent, her children and Nikolai as well).

Illyana says something to her mother a few times, but Alex waves her off –and, in general, seems unbothered. “U nas yest' rabota, snezhinka. U nas yest' rabota.”

“Did you know him?” you ask, later, when the Rasputin kids are out of the room. “The Winter Soldier?”

You’ve heard enough through the grapevine to know about the basics of the man’s story –captured by Hydra, experimentation, brainwashing, being coerced into murdering.

(It all sounds chillingly familiar.)

“We crossed paths,” Alex admits with a shrug. She slides a piece of ceramic armor plating inside a Kevlar pouch, then starts sewing the pouch shut. “Overlap was common back in the day.”

“Do you think he remembers you?” you murmur, glancing out at the kitchen (fortunately, Rogers and Barnes are gone for now).

Alex pauses. She purses her lips, then shrugs and resumes working. “I don’t know. He went through a lot with the forced mind wipes. There’s really no way of knowing.”

“Are you going to be in trouble if he does remember you?”

Alex huffs and favors you with a gentle smile. “I’ve gotten out of worse, ptitsa. Don’t worry so much.”

You say that like it’s easy, you think while the knot in your stomach coils tighter.

***

There’s a brief reprieve around dinner. You even manage to relax a little, smiling and chuckling as Piotr and Mikhail bicker and generally irritate each other as much as humanly possible.

Work starts up once more as soon as everyone’s done eating. You nestle yourself against Piotr’s side, relaxed via the virtue of being too tired to be stressed—

And then Tony Stark walks in.

Or perhaps “walk” isn’t the right term. He moves with an air of grandeur and utter self-assurance –which, even with your limited exposure to Tony Stark, you can tell is a “brand standard” for him. He tosses an apple up and down in one hand as he breezes along, expression blasé to the point of looking disinterested as he strides up to the table where Alexandra works.

If it weren’t for Natasha, Captain Rogers, and Sergeant Barnes scoping out the Rasputin matriarch earlier, you would’ve pegged Stark’s visit as entirely coincidental.

“What’s your deal?” Tony asks, leaning against the table next to where Alex is stationed at her sewing machine.

No pretense. No niceties. No attempt at subtlety.

Alex’s lips quirk into an annoyed grimace. She looks up and over the top of her machine for a moment, staring at Nikolai (likely trying to find any scrap of his infinite patience for herself), then lowers her gaze once more and says, “Usually, it’s not answering vague, pointless questions asked by nosey individuals.”

“You’ve got half my team twisted up just by being here,” Tony continues, unruffled. “I’ve seen Romanoff stare down the Hulk on a rampage without flinching. What about you is so special that you make her nervous?”

“Interesting,” Alex comments, almost to herself. “And here I thought, after the Berlin incident, your ‘team’ was largely disbanded. Something about ‘not agreeing with your leadership.’”

Tony’s face twitches, mouth briefly stretching into a pained grimace before he smooths it back out. “You don’t exist.”

“Everyone’s concept of self is different,” Alex mutters as she rips out a crooked seam on an armor pouch.

“There’s no record of your birth. Or your parents, for that matter. Your marriage license has no given maiden name. No history of education, doctor’s visits, driver’s license –nothing until you turned twenty-four.” He takes a bite of his apple, swallows, then says, “People don’t just ‘poof’ into existence as full grown adults. It doesn’t happen.”

“Perhaps,” Alex retorts as she resews the faulty seam, “you are just not very good at finding things.”

“I can find anything.”

“Except, it would seem, a way to keep from trying my patience.”

Tony watches her for a moment longer –then, when she doesn’t say anything, he turns and starts striding out of the room. “I’m going to figure out what’s up with you. There aren’t any secrets that can hide from my A.I.”

Alex doesn’t dignify his departure with a response –but her eyelid twitches as she continues her sewing.

You look up at Piotr, only to find he’s watching Nikolai. You look over at the Rasputin patriarch, and your heart sinks when you see the worried expression on his face.

Nick sighs, then stands and rounds the table. He ambles up behind his wife, drapes his arms around her shoulders, and kisses the top of her head before he starts murmuring to her in quiet, loving Russian.

You lean against Piotr’s side, giving him a reassuring squeeze even though the only thing you feel is disquieted. You force yourself to take a deep breath and relax your jaw as fear starts crawling up your spine once more. One thing at a time. One thing at a time, that’s all you can do.

Except, it seems, when everything decides to happen at once.

***

Meeting the Norse god of thunder is… intense.

Though, that may have to do with the entourage of people he brings with him.

Around three in the morning, Dr. Strange shows up with the remaining allies –Thor, god of thunder, and his brother Loki, god of magic, Bruce Banner aka the Hulk, a woman by the name of Carol, and a group that calls themselves the “Guardians of the Galaxy” (which happens to include a talking raccoon and a sentient tree).

“Just when you thought, like, it couldn’t get weirder,” Kitty mutters to you as she stares at the newest arrivals.

You nod. Granted, your usual metric for all things weird is Wade, who has basically explored every avenue of zany, bizarre, and disturbing—

But yeah, this is pretty fucking weird.

“Where do we stand in preparations for the arrival of Thanos?” Thor asks Tony.

“We’ve got most of the busywork done,” Tony says, outlining the weapons upgrades and the armor work that’s been done. “We waited for major planning until we had everyone here and better intel.”

Thor nods, then gestures to two women standing with the “Guardians of the Galaxy,” one with green skin and dark hair and the other with blue skin and cybernetic enhancements. “This is Gamora and Nebula, daughters of Thanos. They’ll be able to provide information on the strength and size of his forces.”

“Good,” Steve pipes up from where he’s standing with Sam Wilson and Sergeant Barnes. “The sooner we have a plan, the better.”

“It can wait until we’ve slept,” Alex decides, voice crisp. “We won’t come up with anything good while we’re fried.”

Tony blinks, then scowls. “Thanos could be here as soon as this coming morning.”

“Then we’ll be doubly fucked if we’ve stayed up all night trying to scrape together a plan,” Alex replies, unmoved. She crosses her arms when Tony glares at her. “The younger and less experienced of us need rest if this is going to work.”

“I’m with the lady,” Quill pipes up, brushing past Tony. He gives Stark a smile that, if you had to wager, is supposed to be charming but just comes off as arrogant. “I think you’ll find that we… don’t really roll with plans. It’s not our style.”

Alex stares at Quill for a moment, expression vastly unimpressed. She sighs, blinks slowly, shakes her head, then turns on her heel and strides back to the room she’s been sharing with Nick. “Absolutely not. I’m going back to bed.”

As if waiting for a cue, everyone else disperses, muttering about being tired and “needing an IV drip of espresso.”

You shuffle off with Piotr, hand in hand, shivering slightly from nerves. Please just let this go well.

***

“Both the Chitauri and the Klyntaar forces number into the tens of thousands. The Chitauri have sentient airships capable of carrying infantry forces while wreaking their own havoc, in addition to chariots that can carry up to five marksmen at a time. He also has tanks the size of this building that can demolish anything in their path.”

Everyone is gathered in one of the main work rooms. A majority of the people present hang back at the fringes, content to watch while Tony, Captain Rogers, King T’Challa, Alexandra, your uncle, Thor, Quill, and Natasha hash out a strategy.

“He’s trying to overwhelm us with sheer numbers,” Steve says in response to Gamora’s information.

“It might work,” Natasha murmurs, gaze focused on the worktable in front of her. “We don’t have near enough firepower to chip away at that many grunts.”

“Not if we play our cards right,” Alex says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There’s also our siblings,” Gamora adds with a pained grimace.

Off to the side, Nebula scoffs. “They’re hardly family.”

“Thanos collected beings throughout the galaxy to serve him,” Gamora explains. “To act as his eyes and ears and eliminate his foes. Aside from Nebula and I, he has four other ‘children.’ They’ll be acting as his generals and commanders in the fight –and helping him track down and capture the final infinity stones.”

Tension ripples through the room.

“What do we know about these Infinity Stones?” Alex asks after a moment of fraught silence.

“The stones were originally created by the Celestials,” Loki pipes up from where he’s leaning against a wall. “Their magical properties are tied to aspects of the universe –time, space, reality, and so on. Only beings of immense power can wield them without severe consequences.”

“Thanos has the gauntlet that accompanies the stones,” Thor adds. “With it, once he assembles all six stones, he’ll be able to use them simultaneously.”

“He wants to wipe out half of all life on Earth,” Gamora says, voice wavering slightly. “That’s been his single goal ever since I’ve known him.”

“All men want to be gods,” your uncle jokes half-heartedly.

“Can the stones be broken?” Alex asks.

Loki chuckles, incredulous. “These are magical tools created by the most powerful beings ever known to the galaxy… and you want to break them?”

She shrugs. “Best not to overlook the simplest solution.”

“I’m taking that as a ‘no,’” Steve interjects. “So, if we can’t destroy them, how do we fight them?”

“The only thing powerful enough to combat the effects of the Infinity Stones are the Infinity Stones,” Loki answers.

“And we only have two,” Natasha surmises, expression drawn and grim.

“Three.”

Everyone looks up and turns when Illyana speaks.

She smirks, tilting her chin up when Natasha meets her gaze. “We have three Infinity Stones.”

“Vision has the mind stone, and Dr. Strange has the time stone,” Kronos argues, shaking his head. “The soul stone is still missing.”

Illyana’s smirk broadens. She lifts her hand, curling it as if she was holding something.

A sword materializes in her hand –and in the center of the sword, small but unmistakable, is a glowing orange gem.

Your uncle’s eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

“Three,” Illyana repeats, looking supremely confident and self-satisfied. “Unless there is elusive seventh stone?”

Loki smiles ruefully, shaking his head. “The Goddess of Limbo pulls through. Well done.”

“Okay, but Vision’s stone is in his head and Strange has his stone in a necklace around his neck,” Tony interjects, gesturing to each person in turn.

“Amulet,” Dr. Strange mutters under his breath.

“Your stone disappears if you’re not holding it,” Tony continues, pointing to the sword as Illyana dematerializes it once more. “What’s stopping Thanos from finding it and taking it?”

“I am only person who can use Soul Sword,” Illyana says, arching her eyebrows. “It is bound to me until the next in my line is ready to take my place.”

“My family has been bound to Limbo’s magicks for generations,” Nikolai clarifies when Tony starts sputtering. “Illyana is the keeper of the sword, which means only she can call upon it. Thanos would need our blood to have access to it.”

Tony grimaces. “Still risky.”

“Better than nothing,” your uncle fires back.

“We have a shot of taking down Thanos with the other three Infinity Stones in our camp,” Steve says, planting his hands against the worktable's surface. “Without them, we’re as good as sunk.”

“Well then,” Alex says, smirking. “Let’s make sure we don’t waste our opportunity.”

***

“For the love of god, stop talking.”

“I’m just saying,” Quill starts, spreading his hands in a defensive gesture.

“You’re not saying shit!” Alex snaps, lifting her head from her hands to glare at him. “You’re just wasting our time!”

Once the planning started, a large portion of the crowd dispersed to help wrap up the last of the weapons modification. The leaders from each faction stayed behind –Tony, T’Challa, Steve, Natasha, Thor, Peter Quill, Xavier, your uncle, Alexandra, and Erik—to plan, along with Gamora, Nebula, and Loki so they could offer up information on Thanos, his forces, and the Infinity Stones.

You’d also hung back, since you didn’t have the skills necessary to do the weapons modification. If all I can do is sit around like a nervous lump, may as well do it where I won’t be in the way.

“This plan just isn’t our style,” Quill argues, either immune or completely ignorant to the exasperated sighs and death glares the others are giving him. “We like to take things looser, add a little pizazz.”

“How many times did your parents drop you as a baby?” your uncle asks, staring Quill down. “No, I’m serious,” he adds when Quill glares back at him and opens his mouth to argue. “I’m genuinely at a loss for how you can be this fucking dense.”

“We’re up against overwhelming numbers and powers no one here has ever seen, let alone fought against,” Natasha adds. “We need to allocate our resources carefully if we want even a chance at victory. The three wave strategy is our best chance.”

“Okay,” Quill says, pressing his hands together. “I think we just all need to relax—”

“You’ll be pretty fucking relaxed when I gut you,” Alex grumbles as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Look, the way I see it, Thanos can’t take us all at once!” Quill reasons. “If we hit him with everything we have—”

“We have to survive his armies, too,” Tony adds, words clipped. “Or there won’t be any of us for Thanos to be hit by.”

“No.” Alex glares at Quill when he keeps trying to argue, startling him into silence. “Look at them.” She points at Gamora and Nebula. “These are your friends, da? Your teammates and companions, da? This is their abuser we’re facing. If we lose, what do you think happens to them? Do you think someone that wants to destroy half of all life will have mercy for them? Hm? If you care about them, you pick the plan that has the best shot of ensuring their safety. Got it?”

Quill swallows reflexively. He stares down at the holographic display of the future battlefield, jaw working. He exhales through his nose, slow and stuttered, then nods. “Alright. We… we do the three wave strategy.”

“So glad we can agree,” Alex says, turning her attention back to the battlefield schematic. “Now, we were discussing where to put our snipers…”

***

“—I need both their arms. Trust me, it’s the only way this is gonna work.”

“Look, I’m normally all for a little dismemberment, but I don’t think forming our own amputee league is gonna net us a win here.”

You shake your head as Wade banters back and forth with the talking racoon –whose name is Rocket, apparently—then look over at Nathan. “How long have they been at this?”

“Going on three hours now,” Nate replies. A soft, endeared smile flits across his face when he looks at Wade, but his expression sobers when he resumes his soldering job. “How’s the final plan looking?”

“Everyone but Quill was leaning towards a three-wave tactic.”

Nathan grunts. “Yeah, he seems like a jackass.”

“Alex threatened to gut him.”

“Hey!” Wade shouts, sounding genuinely wounded. “No disemboweling without me!”

“Quill wanted to do an ‘all for one’ attack directly on Thanos.” You sit down next to your dad, studying his face while he works. “You’ve actually fought against these people before. Do… do you think dividing our forces up will actually work?”

“The issue is the land and air forces,” Nathan says, shaking his head. He attaches a power unit to the base of a rifle, then starts welding the compartment shut. “This time doesn’t have the necessary shielding to repel the Chitauri and Klyntaar forces for that long. We’ll have to fight the grunts; holding some of our people back to make sure we have someone to take on Thanos is our best bet.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll win, though,” you point out.

He offers you a melancholy half-smile. “That’s war, kid.”

Your heart sinks further. “Do we even have a chance?”

“Statistics says we do,” Nathan says he strips a piece of wire before threading it into the gun.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Nathan sighs. He looks at you for a long moment, then says, “I think we have the best shot possible with what we have right here, right now.”

You gulp, then nod. It’s still not technically an answer to your question –let alone a positive one—but…

You’ve learned that, sometimes, it better not to dig at these sorts of questions at all.

***

“We’re dividing our forces into thirds.”

You’re all crammed into the rec room post dinner. In the center of the room, by the counter, Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Alex are addressing the crowd in turns.

“The first wave will consist of high stamina fighters and snipers,” Steve says. “There’s a shield system that extends several hundred kilometers around the lab’s perimeter. Wakandan soldiers will join the line of snipers who will pick off any of Thanos’s forces that make it through the shields.”

“We’ll also have any fighters with enhanced stamina on standby, in case there’s a larger breach,” Alex adds. “Their job will be to protect the sniper line from being overrun by the enemy forces.”

“The second wave will be air support,” Tony continues. “Myself, Rhodey, Wilson, and any flying mutants will head out when the Chitauri airships come in. Princess Shuri has a fleet of attack drones at the ready, which can be manned from headquarters in the lab. HQ will have a complete look at the battlefield; all intel will be coming from them during the fight.”

“Third wave is everyone else, save for Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision,” Natasha says. “We’ll join the fray when the second wave of Thanos’s forces arrive. The final three” –she nods to Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision in turn—“will wait in central headquarters until Thanos arrives, to prevent early capture of the remaining Infinity Stones.”

“In the meantime,” Tony says, “we’re going overtime on modifying rifles to be sonic weapons. They’re more effective against the Klyntar forces than regular firearms. All hands on deck. If you can’t solder, you can run supplies back and forth and help perform diagnostic tests at the firing range. Clear?”

Everyone nods, then breaks off to start working on constructing and testing more “awesome guns.”

You slid your fingers between Piotr’s. Your heart’s in your throat, racing a mile a minute. Your mouth feels dry.

If you were the religious type, you’d start praying. As it is, you make a plea with the universe on the off chance it decides to listen to you –for once.

Please. Please just let this work.

***

“So… about the three-wave plan—”

Tony slams down the compartment piece he’d been working on against the table. He glares at Quill, face strained with barely constrained rage and impatience. “What the fuck is your deal?”

“It’s just not sitting well with me,” Quill continues, leaning against the table. “I’m more of a ‘solo moment’ style person. More of a lone wolf.”

You gape at him. “You… you work with a team of five!”

“I just think that there needs to be a more focused confrontation with Thanos. Y’know, for someone to challenge him, man to man—”

“Some get this idiot out of my face,” Tony snaps, looking around for anyone that might be willing to assist –or, at the very least, drag Quill out of the room by his jacket collar.

“You’re not listening to me!”

“You’re wasting my time!”

“Why does every problem come back to you?” Alex stalks into the work room, eyes glowing a dull shade of copper as irritation takes hold in her. She strides over to Quill, looking like a menace in black leather and Kevlar. “How much more of a nuisance can you possibly make yourself?”

“I’m just pointing out some flaws in the strategy!” Quill argues, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m being the devil’s advocate!”

“You’re pointing out dick,” Agent Barton, alias Hawkeye, points out from the side (where he’s modifying some of his arrows to release sonic pulses).

“Look,” Quill presses on, ignoring Clint’s comment. “We need to make sure this thing is airtight—”

“We don’t have time for ‘airtight,’” Nathan growls, cybernetic eye flaring. “The goal is to survive, not to create perfection.”

“I really just think—”

Alex scowls –and then her hand snaps out and closes around Quill’s neck. She slams him against the edge of the table, sneering down at him while he coughs and claws –futilely—against her iron grip. “You’re past the point of being a nuisance. You’re a fucking liability.”

Quill wheezes, face slowly turning red.

“If I was paid every time a man like you told me how to do my job…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out a sardonic chuckle. “Let me make something clear to you, Peter Quill.” Her hand tightens around his neck, which makes some ominous creaking noises as she presses against layers of tissue, cartilage, and bone. “I am not about to have an asshole like you risk the lives of my children, the people who are putting their own lives on the line to protect the world, or the future of the damn universe. If you’re going to keep being a jackass about this…” She smirks. “I’ll kill you. I’ll do it right here, right now. I am not going to have a hazard like you on my team or on that battlefield.” She grins nastily, leaning in closer as Quill’s eyes bug out. “Best thing is, no one really knows you’re here. No tracks to cover, no family to pay off, no authorities to worry about. You’d be an unfortunate casualty in war. No one would fucking miss you.”

A chill runs down your spine. You gulp, stomach twisting as you look from Alex, to Quill, to Alex again. Is anyone going to stop her...

“I really don’t know how to make this any fucking clearer, but since you’ve proven to be thick-headed, I’ll summarize: you stray from the plan in any way, and you’re dead. Got it?”

Quill nods hastily. He gasps when Alex releases him, collapsing to the floor. He hacks and coughs, one hand rubbing at his throat while his skin slowly fades away from an angry magenta color.

“So glad we understand one another.” Alex smirks, then turns on her heel and strides out of the work room like nothing even happened.

You purse your lips, trembling while everyone goes back to work like nothing even happened. You try to focus on sorting pieces into containers for the fabricators to grab from, but with your shaking hands it’s near impossible. You duck your head, gritting your teeth together as your stomach churns angrily. I just want this all to be over.

***

The call comes in a couple hours later.

“We’ve got temporal disturbances outside the shield perimeter,” Kronos shouts while alarms blare overhead. “Thanos’s forces have arrived and are attempting to break through to our location.”

Your stomach drops as everyone starts scrambling. You grab your flight jacket and goggles, throwing them on haphazardly. You start running towards the hangar –then stop and switch directions. “Piotr!”

He pauses when he hears your voice, turning and catching you as you leap into his arms. He kisses you briefly –desperately—then pulls back and cups your face in his hands. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You give him a quick hug, then pull away and start sprinting towards the hanger where the rest of the air support is gathering. Tears sting your eyes, but you wipe them away and force down your fear and preemptive grief. Focus. You have to focus.

It’s time.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin #kitty pryde x illyana rasputin #aka my 'fuck you' to the russo bros #get ready for some big canon divergence #i am literally just doing whatever the fuck i want #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 5 years ago

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The United Nations held a summit to go over global affairs and development on 1 January 2020. Another council was held on 6 January 2020 in Geneva, Switzerland for mutants, humans, gods, aliens and all others to attend. All invited parties have been called to the summit that had a strong emphasis on peace and promoting future prosperity, but attitudes soon proved that not all is forgiven towards the mutants and their crimes.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL COMPLETE CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

CAROL: Another day, another conference. Attending these had felt honorary in the past, as if she were setting the world up for bigger things. Now, they were starting to feel more necessary and imminent, as if they couldn’t escape them. The threats were coming bigger and worse than the ones before, but that wasn’t what this Summit was addressing. They had an influx of mutants post the war when the Phoenix threatened the planet, and they had a mutant nation that was entirely their own. To say she felt uneasy was putting it lightly, but Carol saw the promise in Krakoa. But she also could see the downfall. Still, she spoke over the crowd of people, humans, mutants, extraterrestrials, anyone that represented the cause they were pushing towards. Even if Carol felt an awful foreboding, she didn’t let that creep into her voice. There was an introduction, an icebreaker, and then Carol got into the meat of it. “We live in a world post Thanos. Post Phoenix. We have seen death, destruction, and mayhem at every corner of our lives. We may continue to seek the other’s demise based on power or differences, or we may push for a future that ignores that. I might seem optimistic or naive, but I’m convinced that we can avoid another war if we focus on promoting peace and prosperity amongst each other. It will take leaders from every faction, communities coming together—” she could hear it in her voice, her own doubt, but a part of her wanted to believe it too. “We’re gathered here today to discuss the future of our planet, distant planets, and especially Krakoa.”

SHAW: Sebastian sat with leaning onto the table heavily, head lips chin pressed into his interlaced fingers with his cane resting to the side of him. He was following every word that the woman had been saying closely. For the financial success of Krakoa the utmost attention needed to be paid. He gave a momentary glance to his Black Bishop, his son Shinobi, sitting to his right as their eyes met they nodded and looked forward. Their relationship was tense at best but they had a common goal at the very least and knew what needed to get done. Sebastian most certainly didn’t have faith in the optimistic gobbledygook she was spewing but he didn’t need to mention that. “What a capital introduction, Captain Danvers. We appreciate the chance to have all of our voices heard tonight.” Sebastian replied smoothly with a soft smile. He was feeling confident knowing that half of the conference were representatives of Krakoa. While this made him feel secure it also made him feel as if it was over kill. It made them seem like they needed all of this support to stand on their own. That they needed all of this support, that the leaders weren’t adequate to conducting politics. He was also concerned that the other factions may see this as an attempt to display power and feel threatened in the process.

JEAN: It felt good to be doing something. Some hated the public nature of summits and conferences, but Jean had always liked being in a forum and fighting for a cause she was passionate about. “Captain Danvers is right.” A red head tipped in acknowledgment. “The rise of our nation had some unfortunate timing considering everything that happened, but we hope that you don’t count us out as a sovereign nation. Charles Xavier once said that while humans slept the world changed, and it has.” The room was filled with her family and familiar faces but it didn’t eliminate the tension. It just lingered in the background. “There is no you and I. There’s only an us. We are together or we are nothing, and that’s what we hope the world can see. One of the best ways we can show good will is through the Flowers of Krakoa, which the lovely Emma Frost can speak about seeing as she currently helps run the Hellfire Trading Company.”

EMMA: Odds were that Emma had tried - not very long ago - to kill most of the people in the room. With the Phoenix exorcised her mind was clear and the thoughts of others floated by in a quiet rush of consciousness. Gone was the psychopath tripping on power. Not a blonde hair was out of place, nor did a wrinkle crease her white suit. From her seat between Shaw and Kate, the White Queen sipped her wine while Jean spoke. As the other telepath finished she daintily dabbed at her lipstick with the napkin before a smile ticked up the corners of her mouth. “Thank you, darling. There’s precisely three drugs in this world that are produced on Krakoa and Krakoa alone. Drugs L, I and M are capable of extending human life by five years, acting as a universal antibiotic and curing diseases of the mind respectively. We would give you these drugs for free, but after past experiences we have no choice but to offer them at a cost. Life does not come cheap, does it?”

CHARLES: Charles stood up immediately after Emma’s pointed quip. His helmet was resting atop the table beside him as there was no legitimate reason to wear it at this time. He had nothing to hide. And he wanted his fellow telepaths to be acutely aware of that fact. The idea of a face to face chat also seemed to be a bit more effective in connecting with those present as he spoke. “Unfortunately, not everyone seems too keen on this idea. Fourteen nations refuse to trade with Krakoa. Among them are Latveria, due to certain political issues, and the nation of Wakanda, who simply have no need for the drugs we offer to trade with them,” Charles paused for a moment, folding his arms over his chest as he slowly paced across the front of the room, “—normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but a lack of trade partners puts Krakoa at risk of economic and eventually total failure. And we owe it to our residents to fix this issue.”

ERIK: “My fellow mutants are all making points of their own, but I feel that they are not telling the whole truth of the matter.” Erik took over once Charles was finished. “It is true that in the past, I have tried to show you time and time again how strong I am. But methods change, and that it was what we all are going to do– myself included. There will be no war.” Briefly, he paused to focus on his food. It was a casual moment– him sitting there dressed in his new white suit without his helmet, lifting his fork to his mouth to eat before continuing. “You have all shown us the way you influence wars– silently and financially. You make people pay to be healthy. To be educated. To have a home. That way you control them. We have seen it– and do you know what we will do? We will do it better.” Another pause to eat, his tone light like the conversation was easy for everyone listening just as it was for him. “Our drugs enhance and elongate life, and people will pay for it. Then we will buy your banks, schools, media– politicians. And once we control all that, we control you. And we will have every means to stifle out the wrong sort of people. They will have no space or power to peddle their dangerous, outdated ideas. Yes– people will still hate and fear us. But you know what will be different?” Erik looked up from his plate, glancing around the room for the first time. “They won’t be able to do a single thing about it. No war, just like I said.” And with that, Erik took another bite and smiled.

AHURA: Ahura listened intently hardly touching his food except for a few dainty and precise cuts and bites. “Interesting point, Magneto.” Ahura replied returning his smile. It was purely for pleasantries sake. While he was sociable on this occasion he still sounded as much a fanatic as always. With a gentle pat of his napkin to his lips he went on. “Now this is all interesting news and news it is. I applaud you all for being able to use your resources with medicine you claim to be so… Divine.” He sad glancing over to Charles and then resting his eye upon Emma. “As you know I run the largest Inhuman business in the world and a fortune 100 company that trades world wide, but before we even consider becoming a business partner we’re going to need to get a few details taken care of. While I would love to simply take you at your word I will need to see some physical evidence of your drug’s curative properties. Furthermore, this is an issue we can discuss at length outside of this meeting, I need to understand your medicine’s effects on Inhumans and Nuhumans before I can even consider the potential of becoming a potential buyer.”

CRYSTALIA: While everyone else ate, her plate remained untouched. Crystalia had little appetite as of late, her mind now solely focused on the throne she had recently gotten back from her cousin. Even though Dante was seated next to her for additional security it was impossible for Crystalia to relax. “You have to be kidding.” Her voice was incredulous. “We can’t actually be sitting here talking about diplomacy and trade when they tried to destroy New Attilan. They did destroy New Asgard. Are you just going to sit there and take it?” That was directed at the Asgardians. “Redemption has not been earned and forgiveness should not be found.”

ODINSON: “No one has said that redemption has been earned, and I would agree with you on that subject.” Odinson replied, but his tone was detached. “But personal feelings aside, they are their own nation and it is their right for us to listen to their wants. My people have found their place. We have no right to take that option away from anyone else.”

SCOTT: “That isn’t what we’re discussing here.” Scott had been watching the various pieces of discussion get tossed back and forth, finding no reason to interject until now. “We understand that there are wrongs we have to make right. We will find a way to help the world rebuild, and we will make amends, but we can’t do anything if no one works with us. If you’re looking for someone to yell at, this is the wrong room.”

VALKYRIE: “I don’t know,” Val shrugged from where she was slumped over in her chair, flask clutched tightly in one hand. Take a long swig, the inebriated frowned. She had been doing better and drinking less so Thor could drink more, but after everything she had found herself staring at the bottom of her bottle once more. “We could light their island on fire and see how they like it.” She 100% should not have been a diplomat. Her occasional bedmate was in the room as well and the Valkyrie turned to Carol. “Should be all fine and good, right? We liked to say an eye for an eye on Asgard.”

GABRIEL: Gabriel looked around the room, after getting bored with the Phoenix Force drama he went back to Shi'Ar and reclaimed his thrown. And someone was reached out to about this council meeting or whatever it was. He wasn’t sure if he trusted anyone in this room, his brothers included. So he sat back with crossed arms and listened to everything everyone had to say. Of course there are many entitled assholes in the place and it just went to show. He sat quiet and waited until he felt that there would be a good moment for him to comment in or say something back towards the others. But he was sure peace is what everyone needed after the last few things with everything getting. But his interest did pique up when the Valkyrie started to speak. Now this was finally starting to get good and interesting. “I mean, eye for an eye… isn’t that how Magneto used to work? Valkyrie might have a point.” Gabriel shrugged.

THOR: Keeping her helmet on at the table seemed rude but there were many reasons why the goddess of thunder couldn’t take it off. Mjolnir sat beside her as well, ever ready. “Nay, there will be no lighting anything on fire. Perhaps that’s how it was, but Asgard is gone.” Thor looked to the mutant who had spoken. “Valkyrie is drunk. Forgive our King.”

CAROL: Carol’s eyes flickered first to the flask and then over to meet Val’s gaze. It was steady, despite everything. “Makes the whole world blind,” Carol completed the statement, speaking to the whole room despite where her eyes were locked. Not everything was easy, but finding a way to balance her anger and her role as leader was difficult. Even moreso when the people she depended on had varied views from her. “There will be other ways to repay.”

ORORO: “An eye for an eye, would be very irrational and unfair. The Phoenix Force was a cosmic entity that not many can control.” The Kenyan accent left the young woman. “And that would cause the opposite of what we want to happen.” Bloodstorm shook her head, because she had enough of the wars, petty beefs, and battles over every small thing or misunderstood thing. “I believe that it would be best if we put everything in the past behind us… and find beneficial ways to make up for the things that were lost, destroyed, and severed.” She flipped a lock of the long white hair behind her shoulder.

SCOTT: Scott shifted his eyes to his brother and he was forced to remind himself that he wasn’t born into the same luxury that him or Alex had been. His younger self, who was also in attendance, didn’t understand Gabriel like Scott did, and he wouldn’t for a very long time. It had taken years for Scott to even comprehend that he had another brother drifting in space, and another handful of years for him to come to terms with the reality of the situation. Gabriel was angry, Scott had been angry too. And they’d both been twisted by it. “We will find another way.” He said firmly.

CRYSTALIA: “Do you know how many of us died or were injured while you used the Phoenix as an excuse?” An accusatory tone crept into her voice. “This is just disrespectful.”

SCOTT: “That’s something you don’t forget.” Scott said, his tone dipping. “So what would you suggest, Crystalia?”

EMMA: A slight tsking left her mouth. “Hush now, Princess. Such behavior is unbecoming.” The misuse of title could have been passed off as an accident even if it wasn’t. “Perhaps you’re not fit to be leading right now.”

DANTE: As Emma made that last remark flames began to drip from his eyes and he was huffing out smoke from both his mouth and nostrils. “Queen Crystalia.” He said placing emphasis on her title. “Is more than fit to lead.” He said through gritted teeth. He lost people the day of Namor’s attack and his heart was still bleeding.

PIETRO: Softly rubbed Crystalia’s shoulder, not wanting her to get upset by the drunken warrior and the mutant. “I believe we all need to work on allying together. Shared resources, motives, plans, meetings every month or so. If we are going to team together or bond, then we are only as strong as our weakest link, so we should all be well caught up on many things.” He offered up. “Maybe that’s just something we could all work on? Train each other on each other’s customs and such?”

NOH-VARR: Noh had averted his gaze and the temptation to correct Emma. He was relieved that Dante was there to help defend Crystalia’s honor. He had wished his eyes didn’t linger on Crys. Seeing Pietro’s hand caress her shoulder made his stomach drop.

GABRIEL: Gabriel cocked his head remembering what the king said. He was the biggest hater of the inhumans, due to his blow out battle with BlackBolt that ripped a hole in space. “You” He pointed to Ahura. “But we should be the ones worried about you and your people. We don’t produce a mist that harms other species.” He folded his arm, but he was still glaring at his brother… brothers?

KATE: “See, that sounds productive.” Kate nodded in agreeance towards Pietro. “There has to be something we can do other than berate each other, even if we disagree or nearly killed one another.” Even though she was seated beside Noh-Varr and Gwen due to their West Coast Avengers affiliation, things were still weird with Noh. Add in the fact that Julian was sitting by Emma like a lap dog made it worse. Where the hell was Clint?

JEAN: “Queen.” Jean amended, knowing Emma wouldn’t correct herself. “What Namor did in New Attilan to you and your family was horrible. We would never pretend it was okay. We want to move away from the past.”

AHURA: "No, you burn down nations with cosmic entities.“ He said letting his anger slip for a moment. "That was uncalled for. I acknowledge that the acts of my father were entirely fallible and his decisions resulted in the suffering of many of your species. There is no denying that this is a tragedy and I feel deeply for those effected. But I am… Crystalia is not my father. She is smarter than that and I couldn’t fathom her doing something as reckless as what King Blackagar did.” While he said that he was currently concerned over his cousin’s stability.

VALKYRIE: “By pretending it never happened? I watched a King do that before and I won’t watch it happen again.” Odin had been a coward. “I don’t think the Inhuman is the concern here. She’s far less murdery than I remember you two being. Especially when one of you relieved Thor of his arm. Really, I believe a rematch without the Phoenix to be the best course of action.”

CLINT: Clint was running late. So late, in fact, that he probably shouldn’t have come at all at this point. But sure enough, he busted through the doors of the Summit and announced himself. “Everyone can stop their worrying, I brought–” He stopped dead in his tracks when he finally got a glance of the room he had just entered. People were eating already. Huh. Did his invite say there would be fancy food? He couldn’t remember. “–pizza.” With the hand not holding the pizza boxes, Clint slowly closed the door behind him and started looking for a place to set them down.

GABRIEL: Gabriel nodded his head towards Valkyrie, because he agreed with everything she said. “You can’t pinpoint burning down nations on us. None of us have cosmic powers within us. And we didn’t create the phoenix or force it to choose Jean. Hell why would we give it to her and not someone strong enough to mentally stand it. But That anger of the burning nations is pointed in the wrong direction.” He shot a glare back towards the kid.

KATE PRYDE: Kate had attended more as a formality – she hadn’t wanted to get mixed up in politics, it was why she had originally rejected Emma’s offer for the red throne. Yet here she was, lounging back in her seat, a squat glass in one hand and a bottle of bourbon in the other. She wasn’t drunk, far from it, but to put up with all the bickering, she knew she needed a good form of aspirin. Knob Creek would do. She was in attendance near Emma, with her cohorts also making an appearance. It was a grand gesture, having everyone here, but considering Kate couldn’t even get on to Krakoa, she didn’t know what use she had in the conversation. That was until voices began to escalate and she couldn’t drown them out no matter how much bourbon she swallowed. Should’ve gone with the Bulliet. “Another fight?” Kate tossed her words in Val’s direction. “I’m all for it, but another war isn’t smart. We’re trying to build mutant human relations, not completely destroy them. Back. Off.”

WANDA: Pietro was mollifying his ex-wife, which was good. The two had always been far too emotional and hot headed. Even though she knew that they were incompatible in one major way before anyone else Wanda had worried about what their union could result in. Thankfully, Luna was an angel and the two had remained somewhat friends. Everyone was better off and Wanda was thankful both had grown up to the point that they could help one another. “By moving on, I assume. I’ve always been a mutant and an Avenger. I want to believe we can be both and –” the door crashed open, revealing Clint. “–and now it seems that there’s pizza. But like my father said, no one wants war. We have to be better than our failures.”

KATE: Her phone had been buzzing as messages from Clint piled up. She had been texting him about bringing something other than the gross gazpacho they were serving, but when it heated up she had left it upside on her lap. “Idiot.” Kate mouthed as he fumbled the boxes before sliding over so that his chair was more visible. Gwen was at the very end being uncharacteristically quiet, and as much as she hated it Kate found herself brushing up against Noh-Varr instead to make room. “Sorry.”

AHURA: It’d be so much easier just to poses this man and shut him up that way, but alas this was a time for words, not manipulation. “As I said, that was not fair of me to say. Being offensive is the last thing I wanted to be today.” He wanted to crush him. “But as my once cousin in laws have alluded. Now is not the time for further violence, but to build bridges of piece.”

PIETRO: He looked over towards his sister, as if he could tell what she was thinking. But he wasn’t going to press that now. “I agree. Because we have kids coming up. Crystalia and I have Luna, Gabriel has his son, and whoever else in here have younger children… so I think if we get it right, it will be smoother for them to get together.” He nodded his head, but was soon distracted by Pizza. “Here let me help you out.” He moved to help Clint out.

VALKYRIE: One shoulder rose and fell. “Seems there’s always a war. “ She had been fighting them for millennia. They just kept coming. Finally had Val come close to dying in one but it had been for naught. Conveniently, she had her sword and she unsheathed it to lay it on the table. The new Thor had her hammer on the table anyway.

SCOTT: Scott passed a glance to Emma and then to Jean, his displeasure clear in his expression. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Throwing a party after being resurrected was barely a bandaid to a festering wound, and it was only going to get worse from here. “We’re not going to fight you, Val. End of conversation. I hate to pull this card, but Krakoa has granted mutants full amnesty, which means the fate of them and ourselves rests in our hands. To be handled by our own authority. It doesn’t matter if you agree, it doesn’t matter if it makes you angry. We can find a solution together, or we can be at war like decades before us.”

GABRIEL: Shot a challenging look towards the boy. The boy was giving off the same look his father did right before the two of them got into the full out fight. He sat back and crossed his arms, a flash of weakness hit his eyes when Pietro mentioned his daughter. His daughter was definitely worth him making amends with these people, so for the time being he was going to listen to all outcomes and solutions.

CAROL: "There always is. Doesn’t mean we should start one.“ Carol countered, her voice remaining level.

AHURA: The Prince took this as a slight victory and relaxed in his seat pulling his attention back to the group conversation.

CRYSTALIA: Pietro had been both calming and troubling. The Queen sat with her head held high even though she was filled to the brim with anger. “My cousin is right. I am not Black Bolt and I will not stand by while my people are taken advantage of. You call yourselves Kings and Queens,” her chin jutted towards Emma and Shaw, “But you know nothing about ruling. You’re false titles are a joke, just like this vision of the world you’re promoting. Not all of us are willing to buy into it, and your amnesty means little. I’m not the only one who feels that way.”

KATE PRYDE: Kate’s focus redirected to Crystalia and in that moment, she leaned forward and set her bottle of booze on the table near her untouched plate of food. "Too bad you don’t get much say in the matter. Mutants have worked tirelessly to be left alone, and you will not threaten that stability.”

ERIK: “You should listen to Scott.” Erik spoke up again, his voice clear above the rest but remaining level. “My words from earlier are the truest to the facts moving forward. We have the means to protect and control ourselves, and it would do you all well to be at peace with that fact.” His gaze darted to Crystalia even while he spoke to the entire room. “Things are going to be different. But mutants will not sit back and, and we will not give up what we have already fought so hard to create for ourselves.”

EMMA: A small smirk bounced around on her lips as Kate spoke. Emma really had grown fond of her new Queen. “Pettiness looks terribly tacky on you, darling. You married a mutant, remember? He might not have loved you, but you can’t get more mutant than the House of M Dynasty. Perhaps you should keep that in mind, hm? Or do you only hate mutants when they aren’t in your bed?”

CLINT: “Thanks man.” Clint whispered to Pietro as the mutant helped with his food offering. It seemed like he came in at a bad time. Noticing Kate, he moved as quickly and quietly as he could over to the empty seat she had moved out for him and sat down. ’You guys started without me?’ He signed to her with a smirk.

JEAN: Emma. Jean hissed mentally with her thoughts open to Scott as well. We’re trying to make sure we don’t go to war again, not start one. That being said, Jean wasn’t sure where to go from there. “Well. We clearly disagree, but burning things doesn’t solve problems. I think all swords and hammers can be put away now.”

ORORO: Looked at the everyone. She seldom agreed with Erik and definitely not Emma, but the inhumans were starting to sound like the homo sapiens that hated them. Hell what if they started working with the PURIFIERS? That would be even scarier. “I don’t think that neither inhumans nor mutants are more taken advantage of. We all have persecutions and people out to get us. Another reason we should put this to past.” She looked around the room to see who was listening to her.

KATE: Yeah. Hands moved deftly under the table. You’re super late. But you’re an Avenger. Step in. Do something.

PIETRO: Pietro was fucking up a slice of pizza.

HANK: Hank had sit there quietly not intending on making a big scene but this was getting ridiculous. “You’re kidding me?” Hank spoke up. “This is a UN meeting to solve our conflicts and you’re throwing insults at each other left and right?” His attention moved to Crys. “For a queen you have a wildly dangerous temper. You’re trying to get people rallied up and to your side but you’re just making the room far more hostile. And you.” He said turning to Emma. “Could you just say something productive or shut that mouth of yours? I have met multiple iterations of you and haven’t met one that I liked.” He took a deep breath as his fingers began tapping on the table his pulse was rising and his anxiety was acting up. He needed to take a minute. “And I’m sorry, Magneto, but that’s just not how it works. You don’t come to a gathering of leaders and representatives, say that this is what you want and that’s going to be the way it’s going to be and expect everyone to go along with it? You sound as much the egomaniac as the man from my earth. If we’re going to discuss let’s discuss dammit!” He said with a slam of his hand onto the table.

PIETRO: “That’s a low fucking blow. I did love her, you don’t get to invalidate that. You should also be shutting the hell up, because you were a host of the Phoenix and fucked shit up too. So no one really need your opinion on things.” Pietro finally getting what the woman said. “And you…” He pointed to his father. “She killed the fuck out of you, so for you to take her side is very not right at all.”

ERIK: “Look back on history, Dr Pym. Tell me that our wishes are out of hand when so much death and suffering has been cast upon us over the decades.” Erik’s tone had changed, growing sharper. “We will work with the world the best we can, but we have standards. We now have rights that we had no other choice but to give to ourselves– because the rest have wanted only to take them away. We make these choices because we have to, because no one has helped us before.”

WANDA: It was quickly dissolving into chaos. Wanda didn’t disagree with what Hank was saying. Crystalia had always been arrogant and stubborn and Emma could be classified as the same. The fact that she and Jean were sitting next to each other after everything that happened still surprised her. When Pietro spoke a tiny smile crept to her face before she quickly tucked it away. “My brother makes a good point, no matter how colorful his language. We have all ‘fucked shit up’,” she quoted awkwardly. “But we all deserve another chance and that chance should not start with us belittling each other.”

ORORO: "I agree with Wanda.“

HANK: "I don’t argue that in a bubble this sounds great and wonderful but the world doesn’t exist in a bubble. Because you want something doesn’t mean you get it and feelings only get you so far. I’m not against the concept of Krakoa but if you’re going to vouch for it and say you’ll work with the world come off as if you will. You and I both know that good intentions can be twisted into something vile.”

CRYSTALIA: The instant Emma spoke her face flushed bright red. The embarrassment still lingered. Medusalith’s face when she heard the news coupled with Black Bolts silent judgement brought tears to her eyes. Even now with her cousin beside her she flinched as if he was going to tell her it wasn’t a good idea. Their marriage had long been annulled and Luna could walk on her own, but it didn’t matter. She had failed in her marriage and she would fail as Queen. Dr. Pym was right: she was too temperamental. “How dare you.” It wasn’t a question as Crystalia rose to her feet quickly. “My ex-husband and my child are off limits in discussion. Although we shouldn’t be surprised by your fathers choice of alliance, Pietro. He never was good at decision making or doing what’s best for anyone other than himself.” Her heart was pounding her ears, a white hot rage. One finger was extending towards Emma, a small gust of air accompanying it. “Mutants can burn for all I care.”

ERIK: “Personal matters must be set aside when determining the fate of mutants, my dear son.” His last few words were tinged with sarcasm, but his point still stood. Emma might have killed him, but at the core of it all they wanted the same thing. He would work with his demons if it meant keeping his people safe. “Krakoa isn’t going anywhere.” His attention turned back to Hank. “That is a fact. Twist my words however you’d like– that is not my problem. It is yours. Things are different now. I am different.” And then Crystalia was talking. Her words were meant to burn but it didn’t phase him. “You can all say and think what you want about me. The truth cannot be changed, and the truth is that mutants come first. They always have in my mind, and in my heart and in my soul. What I do now is for them, for us. The only promise I give is that I will not stop fighting for that.”

KATE PRYDE: She was going to swing the bottle. That was Kate’s first choice. But as she rose out of her seat and began to phase through the table to where Crystalia stood, her hand passed through the bottle of bourbon on her accord and she instead balled it into a fist and swung. Her tattooed knuckles collided so hard into Crystalia’s jaw that she heard the crack resonate through her fingers as the middle two broke. The pain wasn’t there yet, it was being suppressed by the unbridled anger that was spilling over. She didn’t say anything as she stood there, her body tense as her focus hyperfixated on Crystalia and no one else.

AHURA: He could quite literally feel her rage, her embarrassment, everything. It was being funneled directly into his mind through his empathy. “Take a walk.” He projected into her head as he stood up from his seat and brushed his pants. “We have decided to depart for the evening. Thank you for the opportunity and while we have our differences today I hope we can work through them over ti-” It was then that he felt the wind of a well thrown punch whiz past his face and into crystalia’s jaw. In an instant he went from civil to soldier. His eyes shined bright blue as a dozen spiritual projections surrounded Kate.

GABRIEL: “Alright. My daughter has a doctor’s appointment and I am not getting into this.” He stood up and watched Carol punch the hell out of her. He didn’t feel bad, due to the woman’s words of ‘mutants can burn’ - his daughter was a mutant and he wasn’t here for anyone shit talking the mutants or saying something that would suggest any harm to all mutants.

DANTE: As Kate threw a her punch Dante rose to his feet. His skin cracked and molted as magma became rock on his flesh and fire streamed like tears from his eyes and flames drooled from the maw of Inferno.

NOH-VARR: Entirely on impulse Noh rose from his seat and extended an arm out. “Crys!” He called out on instinct despite knowing full well she didn’t want anything to do with him.

PIOTR: "Katya!“ He yelled out almost as if a scold as he stood to his feet knocking over his own beverage in the process. "What is wrong with you?! This is not you!”

ILLYANA: Well, now it was fun. Illyana hated the loud Inhuman so it was hard not to smile. Instead she pulled her sword off her back just to be safe, eyes quickly darting in the direction of her brother. If they wanted a fight she would fight. “Stand down, brother. She can fend for herself. Clearly.”

PIOTR: “This is not about aptitude it is about what’s right!” His words were somewhat slurred as the smell of vodka lingered on himself. “Katy- Kate.” He caught himself. “Please.”

CLINT: Clint waited to respond as things in the room started to escalate. He took in a breath, reached for a piece of pizza, and took a large bite. Then he slowly shook his head, eyes wide as the Inhuman Queen got decked in the face. ’No way I’m getting in the middle of that.’

CRYSTALIA: For a whole minute, Crystalia had no idea what happened. She was approached quickly by the red clad mutant who reeked of booze and all of the sudden – hands connected with her jaw and Crystalia saw stars as her head snapped to the side before the motion sent her to the ground. There was a crack and her face felt like it was splintering but it was hard to say how much damage had been inflicted. A part of her knew that she had been out of line but time and time again mutants continued to throw the first punch. Her hands hurt from where they connected with the floor, body tangled up in her dress. Sitting there with a ringing in her ears, Crystalia tried to clear her head before pulling herself to her feet and raising a hand to gingerly touch her already bruising jaw. A pained grow was let loose from her lips as flames burst towards the Red Queen.

KATE: Immediately, Kate’s attention was forced away from Crystalia as the room retaliated. “Ah hell,” she heard herself say as she backed up a bit, giving herself some distance from the Inhumans. Shaking out her hand, she ignored the pleas from behind her and paid attention to ensuing anger before her. “Maybe next time—” her words were cut short by a burning sting that snaked up her arm just as Kate willed herself incorporeal. The rest of the flames extended past her and Kate moved out of the way, keeping her singed arm and broken hand close to her chest. Taking form near Emma, Kate was quick pushing her words out. “I get this is my fault, but I think we should go.”

EMMA: There was a reason why Emma had picked Kate. Even back when she was Kitty Pryde she had been something and after years of waiting for her to explore her full potential they had finally made it to this point. It was messy, of course, and brought on by unsettling circumstances but it was beautiful as well. Progress was often made through trial and error, after all. The telepath was already preparing to enter any minds that may have needed to be soothed when Kate backed up into her. Her body took on its diamond appearance a millisecond after Kate went intangible but it remained so even after the brunette returned to normal. “Well, darling, you’ve certainly made your first appearance as the Red Queen memorable. You and I will have a chat later about how to conduct ourselves.” Battles won with words were always more entertaining. Dropping a hand onto Kate’s arm, Emma smiled at the crowd. “I see your threats to burn us down were not made in vain. Lawyers will bring the required paperwork for trading. In the meantime, it’s such a shame to hope that humans can evolve and time and time again see that they can’t. Next time, perhaps?”

NOH-VARR: The Kree very quickly wedged himself between Crystalia and everyone in front of her. His eyes pleaded with her to stop. “Crys…”

ERIK: ”Enough!” Erik stood up, slamming his fist against the table. Along with the noise made when his hand hit the surface, every metal utensil in the room shook– some of them even sliding onto the floor in the process. He had been able to keep himself under control, and he wasn’t about to lose that now. After standing, Erik took slow steps over in the direction of Kate and Emma, eyes glancing to different people in the room but lingering on Crystalia. “Contrary to what many of you may believe– I was hoping to forgo violence for at least today. Perhaps it is best that we all leave now. Behavior like this won’t be tolerated.”

JEAN: Jean was trying to be more composed than her counterparts. She rose gracefully to take her place between Erik and Scott, hands folding in front of her dress. “Of course, this isn’t ideal for anyone. We apologize for any harm done, but we remain firm on our stances. Queen Amaquelin, the last thing we want is to go to war with the Inhumans once more. Please let us know the cost of any damages and we will cover the bill ourselves. The world can be better than what it is, but we have to work to get it there.” With that being said, Jean nodded for Illyana to open up a portal for the mutants while others prepared to go to the Krakoan portal. “Have a nice evening.”

CRYSTALIA: Her chest was heaving from adrenaline and pain but the flames had died down. She still wanted to lash out and retaliate because her pride had been hurt but suddenly Noh-Varr was there. His presence didn’t take away from the aching in her jaw but it did make her self-conscious about the tears stinging in her eyes. “Noh?” She blinked, taking a step back. Where was Pietro and Ahura?

NOH-VARR: “Yes Crys, it’s me.” He said slowly taking a step towards her. He wanted to wipe her tears but knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. “Can we talk?” He wanted to get her out of here and it was something he had been meaning to do.

CRYSTALIA: For a moment she hesitated. The room was full of people who were either staring or beginning to file out. The event had ended and now she stood with shaking hands and a chest that couldn’t catch its breath. “Talk? I – yes. We can talk. I just – I need to get out of here.”

NOH-VARR: He handed a glass of water to her that he took off of the table and through his coat over her shoulders. “Let’s go.” He said gently as they made their way out.

#event: dawn of x #dox: summit i #chatlog: geneva summit #momevents

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