#for my brother ^^ this guy has hijacked his brain

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL TALKING ABOUT AEMOND TARGARYEN IN EPISODE 3 FOR VULTURE MAGAZINE.

I CAN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT WORDING, BUT I REMEMBER SEEING SOMEONE POST A GIF OF PRINCE AEMOND'S SAPPHIRE-EYEBALL REVEAL AND SAYING, ‘THIS IS THE MOST ANIME-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER WHO HAS EVER APPEARED ON A LIVE-ACTION TELEVISION SHOW.’ THERE'S AN OTHERWORDLY AIR TO HIM.

“So much of the work is done through the costume and the long hair and the eyepatch — because of the talents of makeup designer Amanda Knight and our costume designer, Caroline McCall.”

“By taking one look, you can make a rough assumption that he’s probably going to be the bad guy.���

“But for me, bringing that otherworldly texture to Aemond, I never watched Game of Thrones, because I wanted to present something fresh.”

“I drew on other aspects of pop culture, with ’80s horror icons like Michael Myers: a character who walks so slow but always catches up to Jamie Lee Curtis.”

“Aemond hijacks the show and turns it into a horror sequence in the skies above Storm’s End at the end of episode ten of season one.”

“It’s this idea of inevitability, something more like an energy as opposed to an actual human being.”

“That’s the image Aemond wants to co-opt, that he’s godlike. He operates on a different plane.”

“It comes from that cold exterior he’s cultivated over the years, down to the sapphire stone in his eye socket. You don’t know what is going on behind his eye.”

THERE REALLY IS SOMETHING VERY "FINAL FANTASY VILLAIN" ABOUT HIM: ELEGANT BUT FIGHTENING.

“You don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“People who sit back and smile, don’t say much — they’re the people whose brains you want to pick, but at the same time, you don’t know where you stand.”

MY FAVORITE AEMOND MOMENTS ARE WHEN YOU DO GLIMPSE HOW HE FEELS. IN THAT CHASE SEQUENCE ABOVE STORM'S END, AEMOND IS REALLY UPSET WHEN HIS DRAGON KILLS LUCERYS VELARYON. IN THIS SEASON, HE TALKS TO THE SEX WORKER HE'S BEEN SEING ABOUT HOW IT GOT TO HIM.

“I agree. Between episodes seven and eight of season one, he’s manufactured himself into a weapon.”

“He possesses this code that stops him from ever being hurt again, like he was as a kid.”

“He has to be seen as this bulletproof, untouchable, ethereal presence no one can grasp.”

HE BRINGS UP HIS CHILDHOOD IN THE BROTHEL, TOO — HOW HIS BROTHER AND HIS YOUNG UNCLES USED TO PICK ON HIN FOR BEING DIFFERENT. IS ALL THAT IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND EVEN WHEN YOU'RE DOING THE COOL, SAPPHIRE-EYE STUFF?

“Yeah. It’s partly down to seeing the young Aemond actor, Leo Ashton, in episodes six and seven of season one: the boy underneath the veneer.”

“This kid was bullied day in and day out for not having a dragon egg like the rest of the kids in the family. He recognized very early on that he was going to have to go out and get what he wanted.”

“I always carried that around with me in season two.”

“So he ended up claiming the largest, baddest, oldest dragon in the known world in Vhagar. She’s so enormous, she can’t fit within the confines of any castle wall. Aemond is able to identify with that.”

HOW SO? THE BULLYING DIDN'T MAKE HIM FEEL SMALLER?

“It’s the story of the underdog. I have this theory that it’s not so much the person who claims the dragon, it’s the dragon who claims the person as well.”

“I don’t believe Vhagar is someone you just stumble upon.”

“Although Aemond had to seek her out, she must have seen something in him that he himself hadn’t seen yet.”

“Aemond’s the kid who held on. When he realized he wouldn’t get a dragon egg like the rest of the kids, he held on.”

“When he was bullied for being different, for not having a dragon of his own, he held on. And when Vhagar took off over the beaches of Driftmark in episode seven, he held on tighter than he’d ever done before.”

“I don’t know if any of the other characters would have held on as strongly, because they were gifted dragons when they were kids.”

“It’s a tremendous feat of courage to approach Vhagar.”

“That’s one of Aemond’s redeeming qualities: He possesses a drive.”

“Maybe that kid is still underneath that manufactured exterior.”

I WAS HONESTLY SURPRISED TO FIND AEGON AND HIS BUDDIES STILL BULLYING AEMOND DURING THE BROTHEL SCENE IN THIS EPISODE. HISTORICALLY, BULLYING AEMOND HAS NOT WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR PEOPLE.

“Aegon catches Aemond in a vulnerable spot.”

“Picking up the script for the first time and seeing those brothel scenes in episode two and three, I saw a brilliant opportunity to offer a rare glimpse of his vulnerability.”

“You only ever see him in his Targaryen blacks, so to see him in that world — not only that, but then humiliated by his brother — is quite shocking.”

WHEN HE GETS UP AND WALKS OUT WITHOUT BOTHERING TO DRESS FIRST, SO SURE OF HIMSELF EVEN IN THE FACE OF THAT HUMILIATION, HE SEEMS SCARIER TO ME THAN WHEN HE'S RIDING ON VHAGAR.

I love that line from Michael Mann’s Heat, when Bob De Niro’s character says, “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.”

“That’s the code his character utilizes so he’s able to maneuver around this world without getting caught by Al Pacino.”

“Aemond has a similar code that stops him from being hurt like he was as a kid.”

“That’s why he’s able to walk out on the madam in that scene.”

“He’s humiliated by his brother and all his crew, and it’s like this switch flips. The madam is no more.”

“All of these people in front of him? They mean nothing. He stands up, he owns it — Yeah, I’m bulletproof. Anything you say, it will not work. Like you say, it’s scary.”

A LOT OF COMPARISIONS ARE MADE BETWEEN AEMOND AND DAEMON, BUT THAT'S A BIG DIFFERENCE: DAEMON GETS INTENSELY ATTACHED, WHETHER TO HIS LATE BROTHER KING VISERYS OR TO HIS NIECE AND WIFE QUEEN RHAENYRA. WE'RE SEEN HIM LEAVE DIFFICULT SITUATIONS, BUT HE STORMS OUT, HE DOESN'T GLIDE OUT. THAT'S AEMOND.

“One hundred percent. You rarely see him lose his cool.”

“As soon as you start raising your voice and shouting, you lose the power.”

“It’s not to say Aemond isn’t as angry as everyone else behind the smile. He probably is. But he’s able to keep a lid on it and channel it in different ways.”

IT'S ALSO A NUDE SCENE, AND I HAVE A FEELING YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET A REACTION AT A VOLUME FEW PEOPLE ON THIS SHOW HAVE SEEN BEFORE. DID YOU HAVE THAT IN MIND WHILE SHOOTING IT?

Mitchell says that the dragon-rider’s display, a topic of much discussion between himself and the creative team prior to filming, was a move ‘encoded in Aemond’s DNA’ — a shock tactic designed to demonstrate that this once-bullied boy will never allow himself to be chastened again.

“Scenes like this start with a conversation about how far you’re prepared to go. It wasn’t a choice we made lightly.”

“But it’s true to Aemond that he shocks the audience.”

“Weakness is not part of Aemond’s vocabulary.”

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Im craving Ezra content! Maybe some head canons or smth? Drink some water <3

ezra (werewolf oc!) headcanons. tags- mostly miscellaneous, some romantic headcanons, some about werewolf culture in my stories, ezra is a yandere note- in my stories, my werewolfs are described/envisioned as similar to the werewolfs from twilight, but every full moon they shift with out control, when their instincts go full drive.

Ezra is ridiculously aware of his size in werewolf form and constantly worries about accidentally stepping on small animals—or worse, you.

he has 6 siblings, four sisters two brothers

his pack is huge and based in a camp in the woods, though the young adults will leave for a year on 'missions' to learn and meet others

Even though he can shift at will, he hates doing it in front of people because it feels weirdly intimate, like getting caught mid-change in a dressing room.

He absolutely refuses to eat raw meat in wolf form. Just because his instincts say it’s fine doesn’t mean he isn’t still mentally gagging at the thought.

The full moon is his least favorite day of the month—he dreads it like someone dreads an upcoming dentist appointment.

He tries so hard to stay away from people on full moons, but if he hears your voice, even in his aggressive, uncontrollable state, something in him hesitates.

He absolutely hates hearing other werewolves talk about how much they enjoy the full moon. Why would you enjoy feeling like your brain is being hijacked?!

His werewolf hearing is too good, so he can hear bugs crawling on walls. He absolutely hates this and sometimes shifts just so his ears aren’t as sensitive.

He gets overwhelmed in crowds because all the different heartbeats and scents blur together, making him feel dizzy.

If he gets startled in werewolf form, he yelps like a puppy. It is both hilarious and kind of sad.

He’s terrified of other aggressive werewolves and tries to avoid fights at all costs—he’s a flight, not fight, kind of guy.

The pack’s elders constantly tell him to “embrace the beast within,” but Ezra would rather embrace a weighted blanket and a cup of tea.

He hates being in werewolf form in the rain because wet fur smells gross, and it takes forever to dry.

He has a tendency to whine like a dog when he’s frustrated, even in human form, which he does not realize until you point it out.

If he gets nervous while shifting back into human form, sometimes his ears or tail linger for a few seconds longer than they should. You find this hilarious.

His sketchbooks are filled with drawings of trees, animals, and—secretly—you, though he’d rather die than admit it.

He doesn’t mind hiking, but only if he has a clear escape route in case of too much nature (i.e., aggressive geese, loud squirrels, or anything that moves unpredictably).

He knits when he’s stressed. One winter, he made you a scarf, but it took him two months to work up the courage to give it to you.

He once tried woodworking but gave up when he got a splinter.

He has an entire collection of pretty rocks he’s found while walking around—he tells you he collects them for “good luck,” but really, he just thinks they look nice.

He enjoys baking but hates the pressure of people watching him bake, so he only does it when he’s alone.

He keeps a tiny notebook where he writes down cool bird facts, but he gets embarrassed if anyone finds it.

He actually loves music but gets too nervous to play in front of people, so he only practices his guitar when no one is home.

He tried reading self-help books to get over his shyness, but every time they told him to “be bold,” he immediately closed the book.

He tried foraging once but ended up bringing home a bunch of inedible plants because he thought they looked useful.

He loves rainy days because they give him the perfect excuse to stay inside with a book and avoid socializing.

Ezra startles ridiculously easily. If you walk up behind him and say his name, he will jump.

He is very self-conscious about his canine teeth being slightly sharper than normal, so he covers his mouth when he laughs.

If he gets too overwhelmed in a conversation, he just… leaves. No explanation, just a quiet exit.

He apologizes a lot, even when he’s done nothing wrong. You constantly have to tell him to stop saying sorry.

If someone flirts with him, he completely freezes, as if staying still will make him invisible.

If he gets nervous around you, his hands shake, and he desperately tries to hide it.

He is incredibly easy to bribe with food. If you give him baked goods, he will do anything for you.

He refuses to wear tight clothing because he’s paranoid about shifting and ruining his clothes.

He mumbles a lot, especially when he’s trying to get out of a conversation.

He’s a total lightweight when it comes to alcohol—one drink, and he’s done for the night.

Ezra is so awkward around you at first, avoiding eye contact and overthinking everything he says.

The first time you call him cute, his brain just completely shuts down. No thoughts, just panic.

When he starts getting more comfortable, he finds himself leaning into your touch without realising it.

He flusters so easily when you compliment him. If you say anything nice, he turns red and stammers through his response.

He gets so nervous about accidentally hurting you, especially in werewolf form. He treats you like you’re made of glass.

He constantly asks if you’re sure you want to be around someone like him. He’s not dangerous, but he’s scared of the possibility.

He unconsciously starts mirroring your habits—if you play with your sleeves when nervous, he starts doing it too.

His love language is acts of service, but he’s too shy to admit it. He’ll fix something for you or make you tea instead of saying “I love you” outright.

When you scratch behind his ears in werewolf form, he melts instantly—but gets super flustered if you mention it later.

He gets ridiculously jealous of confident people because he wishes he could be that bold around you.

He’s scared of PDA but loves subtle touches—brushing hands, leaning shoulders, or playing with the hem of your sleeve.

He has definitely, at some point, dramatically sighed and said, “I don’t deserve you,” even after youve reassured him for the 100th time.

He’s always anxious after full moons, constantly worried he might have hurt you, even if there’s no sign that anything went wrong.

Despite being shy and anxious, if anyone else makes you uncomfortable or hurts you, Ezra will actually get mad—and that is terrifying because no one ever expects it from him.

[andradrawsstuff]

An in-depth character analysis of Skipper: pt 1

This version of Skipper is probably the simplest since he was comic relief at first, but a bit of a hot take, might actually be my favourite (I prefer the show version of the other three tho). Going back to the movies after years of watching the show, I realised that this version of Skipper is surprisingly… chill? I guess I’ve been so used to his tv personality that my brain just decided to override his movie personality with tv Skipper.

Buckle your seatbelts, this is going to be a long one ☝️🤓

Movie Skipper is quite a nonchalant, carefree and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but calm character. He’s kinda just minding his own business doing his missions. He’s pretty serious when he’s leading his team and planning his missions, eg. the boat hijacking scene, but generally you’ll see him with a smile on his face. He’s always been a suave and charming little guy with a lot of sarcasm and sass, which he wouldn’t be Skipper without.

Generally he takes no bs, is straight to the point, and is pretty blunt, usually to Alex and his bunch. But this is also where his sass and sarcasm starts to show more. It’s funny. I think that Madagascar 2 really shows his charm and sass more out of the three main movies bc of all the chaos.

It’s pretty safe to say that the penguins are chaotic neutrals (apart from Private maybe) but they do it in such a way that makes it really funny. Not only do they trick the tourists and steal their car (ya know, grand theft auto) but also run over the grandma after seeing she’s still alive (ya know, attempted vehicular homicide). I could name every single crime they commit istg and it’s a long list 💀 But anyway, Skipper does all this with such a chill and carefree attitude and simply doesn’t give a shit. It’s what makes him so funny. It’s a big reason why I love this version of him, bc he doesn’t take everything too seriously and just goes about his day like nothing ever happened.

Obviously, he’s not evil and does still care about others, for example when they rescue Alex and his bunch in Madagascar 2 and 3, as well as stopping Dave in their spinoff. But I do think that he has something against humans (which is understandable) bc he seems to have a general disregard for them which is kinda funny.

In Madagascar 3, you start to see a bit of a shift in his personality and he becomes a little more aggressive. I’m guessing it’s because Tom was used to voicing Skipper more aggressively for the tv series and they also probably adopted a bit of tv Skipper into movie Skipper. But he is still generally pretty nonchalant nonetheless. He isn’t as suave as the other two movies either, but he does activate Kowalski’s nuclear reactor just for the funnies so I’ll give him that. The best thing about them here is their interactions with Dubois, the sheer trail of carnage they leave behind wherever they go, and the funny little quips here and there. Can’t forget bababooey.

The penguins spinoff movie brings back a little of Skipper’s charm and swagger, mostly with the “I do things my own way” attitude and him just being an asshole to Classified bc he doesn’t like him. This movie also makes Skipper more tame than the other movies which I don’t mind that much, but I wish he was a little more chaotic neutral rather than so hellbent on being heroic.

But the thing that really solidified Skipper as a complex character was his character development. This is the first time you get to see his vulnerable side and even from the start of the movie you see that he’s actually pretty sweet underneath all that chaos. When they “lose” Private is when you really start seeing Skipper’s full character, going from carefreeness to pure desperation trying to get his little brother back after he gets kidnapped, which I think was a great way to go because it shows how much he loves his family.

Later on he kinda “gives up” and follows the North Wind’s plan, which is one of the only moments you see him completely vulnerable and unmasked - no clever quip, no opposition, just acceptance. A perfect contrast to his usual “never give up, never back down” attitude. I think it adds a lot more realism to his character and shows that the one thing that can break him is losing one of his brothers. This is something that you don’t really see in the show (other than for a short period of time eg. Skorka) which I think would have been a great way to develop his character more.

When they get Private back at the end of the movie, you get to see Skipper’s sweet side again and his character development comes full circle - he learns to stop undermining Private. He realises he was wrong and tries to make it right. In a way, I guess he takes accountability. Which you don’t see all that often in the show, only episodes like Needle Point coming to mind when thinking about it.

I think that this is another big reason why I prefer movie Skipper over tv Skipper - yeah, he’s a bit flawed and a little simpler than tv Skip, but he makes an effort to change in the end which tv Skipper doesn’t do as much. Movie Skipper is nonchalant, sassy, suave and by the end, pretty sweet. I guess you could say he’s pretty well written and honestly I wish we got to see more of his softer side and less paranoid attitude at the end of the show.

That’s not to say I hate tv Skipper tho, when i was a kid I LOVED him a lot more than movie Skip and I still find him rlly funny, I mean Skipper is Skipper haha. I guess my opinion just changed bc I grew up and I started seeing characters differently and started valuing character development a lot more, but who knows, maybe in a year it’ll change again lmao.

I am so sorry this got so out of hand and turned into a mf essay 💀 I promise the other analysis will be shorter 🙏

[hijackedhoneybeeez]

Can you tell us your history of being in fandom? You have so much on ao3 and I'd love to know the pipeline

oh woof buddy the pipeline youre asking for is a tough one! im just gonna speedrun reliving my shipping history right quick

HiJack, or ROTBTD: it all started when i watched Hot To Train Your Dragon and Rise of the Guardians during the same summer. i somehow ended up googling the two together, and boom, i discovered HiJack (Hiccup/Jack Frost). Hi, does the "hijacked" in my url make sense now? anyways i started writing for them and, by extension, the Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons fandom for a while. had a couple HP AUs for them as well, so thats why that series is dinged in my ao3 history as well lol theres some fics for them that didnt come with me from my travels from fanfic.net to ao3, so theres more out there LOL! (38 fics on ff.net, some crossposted to ao3. so its safe to assume ive written close to 100 fics. OOF)

AbeMiha, Big Windup: this was before i had tumblr. one of my favorite artists for HiJack, someone ive long since lost track of, posted their fanart on tumblr, and i noticed while diving through their art tag this show called "Oofuri" or, Big Windup. turns out, it was a baseball anime, and was the first anime i ever seriously watched! AbeMiha was my main there, and i wrote a few things for them too!

KageHina and KyouHaba, Haikyuu: one sports anime led to another. theyre like crack, okay? anyways of course i shipped kagehina, wrote a couple things there, but really tripped and fell for kyouhaba, a semi-rarepair who really took off. i stayed there for a bit! had a lot of fun!

Klance, Voltron: i ran into the loving arms of this one too. forced my little brothers to watch the show as well. it was a great time. i think i also submitted some fanfics to a short story class i was in at the time? it was wild

BakuDeku, BNHA: how could i not have started with this one? theyre amazing and perfect to me.

InoTan, Demon Slayer: dude, these guys were so silly and dumb i had to love them. fun fact: my highest viewed and kudos on the entirety of my ao3 is for InoTan! i love them

Creek, South Park: i have no excuse. they're cute! they infected my brain like a parasite and wouldnt leave for the longest time

Chilaios, Dungeon Meshi: my current beloved who i would lay down my life for!!

really, every single fandom ive gotten into has either been recommended to me, or i have been influenced to watch via my beautiful and amazing tumblr or twt moots. i owe them my life.

but yeah, thats my shipping/fandom history! this all started in 2013, so ive been fandom strong for roughly 11 years now! yippee!

[detectivemaker]

A bit more info about hot frog and an introduction to a character I've been turning around in my brain for a while

So hop frogs relationship with his King is actually pretty healthy, yeah they're awesome times Gregor gets pissed and Yanks him around  but you usually he takes out his frustration on someone who can handle it

That person being hop frogs clutch brother,  toady, a hulking bullfrog who would be the captain of the royal God if he wasn't dumb as bricks, and like a worse kind of  dumb as bricks than the usual intelligence grade of a Guardsman of the Frog Kingdom

in Gregor's eyes hop is a perfect little slimy angel who would never ever betray him, and he's quite right this darling little Jester is quite loyal to his King,  I mean there's so many perks, like getting to eat leftovers , or getting head pets , or getting to practice new tricks and then being like, little guys in frog Jester heaven 

Speaking of fly eating creatures that brings us to chameleons, there's actually two characters I want you introduce

The first is Cloak Michael's  go to guy to be on the inside, he talks and stereotypical dumb gangster henchman voice and did have a partner named weasel,  but he's dead now, either Michael killed him or William killed him I'm not sure, and neither is Cloak

The second is mine,   a flunky from chameleon spy school, he would be a fully fledged one if he wasn't mute, he's part of  Gregor's crew, Gregor is not nice to him a lot of slapping around and strangling for this cross-eyed mime

He's in context for what's Gregor's doing, you see he was banished to a swamp planet by Charlie the queen of the reptiles (she's his niece from his brother's wife's side of the family, she would have been the Duchess of the brown bears like her dad if you wasn't given the esteem to chance to be ruling lizard people,   which he took because she he hates Uncle William because he's a douche),  but he managed to hijack the ship and set on a mission to conquer all of space

That brings us to another fact much like NOS he has a pet werewolf, and much like nos's werewolf he was a Space Ranger, will actually a Green Lantern

It's  guy Gardner,  so if you think a regular werewolves are bad, wait till your final werewolf with a power ring who's working for the side of evil!

[notallangelsaregood]

My thoughts on Spy x Family Chapter 82

Needless to say, (some real serious) manga spoilers alert

Oh, boy, I'm gasping for air. I'm panicking, and I've not panicked this much about Spy x Family since Anya's last hijack incident (which my heart has not recovered yet). Mr. Endo, may you, please, pay my cardiologist bill? I'm not joking, I'm hyperventilating, and my chest is TU DUM, TU DUM.

The mole was discovered! Poor guy (or not, who knows?). I wonder what SSS will do to him. How far will the organization go? I believe we won't even know.

I'm seriously nervous for him. Twillight is used to things getting on his way, with minimum complications and this situation is definitely not it. Of course, he could figure things could go bad, since It's a really risky operation, however, I feel his frustration in not getting much time to secure the real wheeler.

Damn, my heart is not surviving till the end of this chapter.

Our man got ✨ The Skills ✨ Still, all this shooting is getting me pretty nervous. I'm immediately getting my anxiety meds. Endo, what the actual f-

Yeah, Twilight is The Man! Still, my hands are trembling and so is my apprehensive cardiac organ. This is sure to be qualified as torture.

He is quite wise disguising as Yuri. Haha, got it? I'm not okay, Christ.

Damn, Yuri is very intelligent, as well. The brains had to go to one of the Briar's, am I right? (Poor Yor, I love you, It's not personal. Bad comedy is my coping mechanism when I'm nervous. I'm so sorry!)

He is right about that. Twilight is nervous. And I wonder why. Maybe because there's more on this game than before? He is a father. A husband. He worries. He is not the same he was before, as much as he tries to convince himself that he is not attached to his fake family dynamics.

I can clearly imagine his thoughts racing. He's thinking about Anya, about Yor, about WISE, while trying to run and get these thoughts away from him in order to not commit mistakes, like leaving a footprint behind. Just saying.

Oh Yuri, you are so sweet, in a way. And you know absolutely nothing.

The panic™  on his face. Poor Yuri, I'm truly divided right here. See? I'm calmer, not panicking at all, this is certainly my clonazepam working.

Quick (but important) writer's note here, I'm actually diagnosed with intense anxiety and use prescribed medication, I joke about it, cause It's better to laugh than cry on the reality of my condition, however, never use anxiolytic/benzodiazepines drugs without valid prescription and conscience, it might cause long-term dependency and tolerance. My Pharmacy academic self felt the need to point this out. Moving on!

By the way, have you noticed the "waver"? Twilight is hesitating, deeply, which makes him more prone to aiming wrong. Haha, ha… I'm okay, I swear 😰

...

HOW THE FLOOF AM I SUPPOSED TO BE CHILL AFTER THIS, HUH?

Okay, two theories. I'm okay, I swear, my blood pressure is just fine.

Theory number 1. Twilight gets Yuri shot on some of his limbs, probably one of his legs, so our spy can buy time, run to encounter the others Wise's agents and hide. Gladly, he can aim just on the spot when no much damage is made to Yuri, even though the spy is extremely nervous. Twillight was totally not expecting to find him on that corner, and he knows that doing something so serious like UNALIVING HER WIFE'S BROTHER will tear her apart. Why else he would waver? He is the best spy of Westalis. He doesn't hesitate, but this is different.

Theory number 2. Which I believe is less likely, but still possible, Yuri gets our incredible Spy shot on some area of his body where the disguise falls off, and he realizes Twillight and Loid are the same person, but he does nothing about it, at least not for a while. Making him and the spy share this major secret for a while, due to numerous reasons, but mainly to protect Yor and take her out of her position as Loid's wife safely. But as I said, I find unlikely to Yuri shoot TwiTwi, even though the latter is quite nervous and might not dodge the shot. Besides the fact Loid has his arm aimed at Yuri first, while Yuri has his arm sideways, which gives Twilight an advantage in time.

Be sure to talk to me in the comments, I would love to hear what you guys think. Moving on to the last past of the chapter.

Lady Yor! Our grownup baby! She is still with the same outfit and hair down, so I assume it's late at night or afternoon, maybe Anya is already home or at a sleepover with Becky? Not sure.

Our poor girl is nervous due to Yuri filling her thoughts with the possibility of Loid cheating (which is dumb as floof, because he is a loyal boy) but still, even sober, Yor is worried. She cares about this family so much it probably hurts and confuses her. Her face on the left gave me chills, so much is going through her mind, almost if she senses something is wrong.

So. Much. Blood. I'm. Nervous. I. Can't. Breath. Properly. What. Was. This? Whose blood is this? (Not Yor's, I assume). I always count the days till the next chapter, but for this one, I'll be in severe mental pain until its release date. My mind racing like Yor's, wondering if Loid will come home late or come home at all.

I keep imagining scenarios where one of the boys gets shoot and the aftermath of that, Loid or Yuri at the hospital or being held by their organizations in order to get intel from them, Yor drying with worry, there are so many possibilities. This arc has been the most intense so far, for me, at least. I don't know how I will cope till June 26th.

What do you guys thinking? If my heart survived until now, yours will! Make sure to like, reblog and support my work here on Tumblr, I really appreciate it. Now I will rest, cause that chapter was (hell) difficult 🌹 (this post will be reviewed soon, so if you encounter any grammar or spelling mistakes, forgive my bilingual mess self)

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Love Language

Notes:

Inspired by a post by @mumblesplash (which I now cannot find, curse this hellsite's (affectionate) search function):

“Like it’s MY fault my love language is acts of service and all I know how to do is kill.”

I thought it sounded like something Kayo would say.

So I made her say it.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

Kayo stood next to Colonel Casey, and surveyed the chaos surrounding them.

Several GDF flyers had landed, forming a perimeter, while others patrolled the skies, deterring the camera drones that hovered like a cloud of mosquitoes.

Inside the perimeter Thunderbird Shadow clung to a cliff face. Kayo made a face. The fact that she could be seen was a massive blinking neon sign advertising the damage that had been done to her craft.

Brains would not be pleased.

Lying a short distance from the cliff face was the getaway plane Kayo had been perusing, it’s port wing sheered off and fuselage crumpled.

She sighed. It had not been one of her better take downs.

Colonel Casey eyed her. “It was an unavoidable outcome, Kayo,” the older woman said, not unkindly. “The alternative, had they gotten away with the security plans, would have been unthinkable.”

Kayo nodded. “It was a bad situation all round.”

Her comms squawked, and John’s hologram formed above her wrist. “Kayo, please inform Colonel Casey that the courier plane has been safely returned to the ground, and Thunderbird Two is enroute with the crew to suitable medical facilities.”

“Thank you, Thunderbird Five. International Rescue’s assistance is, as always, highly appreciated.” Colonel Casey spoke formally.

John nodded, acknowledging the gratitude. “Thunderbird One is inbound, for debriefing.”

Kayo groaned internally, as she thanked John and signed off. Scott’s single minded insistence that International Rescue was not in the business of ‘catching bad guys’ was both frustrating and something she could not understand. Why else have a Covert Operations specialist – and aircraft – if they didn’t do Covert Operations?

As far as Kayo was concerned, and she knew Colonel Casey agreed, there had been no alternative than to pursue the high performance helijet that had separated itself from the cargo plane and attempted to flee the scene. Especially after the GDF had admitted that the ‘cargo’ was in fact the beyond-top-secret plans for the GDFs latest security upgrades. The thought of what someone like her uncle could do with that information … Kayo shuddered.

Thunderbirds One and Two were in attendance, and Scott, Virgil and Gordon fought to safely land the disabled aircraft somewhere other than a major population centre, and med-evac the crew injured and incapacitated in the attempted hijacking.

Her brothers sought to rescue the current victims of the theft.

Kayo sought to rescue the future victims.

A roar of supersonic jet engines, and Thunderbird One seemed to materialise in the air above them. Everyone in the area stopped to stare as International Rescue’s first response craft pivoted around its centre point to face the two women, then lower itself to the ground, kicking up dust with her powerful VTOL thrusters.

The fuselage opened, and Scott Tracy descended in his pilot’s chair, stalking directly towards his targets, as his ship quietly and efficiently sealed herself behind him.

Kayo winced slightly. There was no chance Scott had not recognised the make of craft, and – from his seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of all things aviation – already determined that the current state of the helijet was a non-survivable impact.

Kayo had confirmed that fact. She could still taste the bile in her mouth.

Scott glared at her, the blue of his eyes seemingly clouded by grey storm clouds. “Thunderbird Shadow, report.”

Kayo stared at him evenly. “The security plans have been recovered. There was no opportunity for them to transmit them to another location.” Her eyes flicked towards the crumpled wreck. “The hijackers attempted to fight their way out of pursuit. They overestimated the capabilities of their craft, and their pilot. Controlled flight was lost, and the craft impacted the ground.”

Colonel Casey spoke up. “Without Kayo’s assistance, the GDF could not have prevented them from escaping. The latest security update is all but completed, and the master plans were being transported to the ultra security vault. Had they gotten away with those plans, they could have broken the security on all GDF encryptions, accessed any GDF craft or facility, either in person or remotely, as well as accessing any files in the GDF’s systems.” She frowned. “The consequences of that do not bear thinking about.”

Scott’s glare intensified. “And the crew?”

“That model helijet is not known for its outstanding safety features. Most of the hijackers were not restrained inside the craft. None survived final impact. First examination indicates at least two were killed during evasive manoeuvres.” Colonel Casey’s voice was cold as ice.

Scott seemed to deflate. “Killed during evasive manoeuvres,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at Kayo. “Evading what, I wonder?”

Kayo glared at him, suddenly horribly aware of the shadow of her uncle looming over her. “Like it’s my fault my love language is ‘acts of service’ and all I know how to do is kill?” She turned on her heel to stalk away.

Colonel Casey caught her arm in a grip of steel. “The evasive manoeuvres only commenced when GDF flyers converged.” Her frown was a physical presence. “All Kayo did, Commander Tracy,” the emphasised title was a challenge, “was pursue and update GDF forces of their location and course, as well as monitor and jam their transmissions.”

The older woman softened slightly. “Kayo’s actions saved a lot of lives today. As for the crew …” she sighed. “It is regrettable. But unfortunately, not everybody can be saved.” She eyed Scott. “As you well know.”

All the fight left Scott at that. He sought Kayo’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Kayo. But when Shadow flagged damage …” He swallowed. “There are some people you want to save more than others.”

Kayo stepped out of the Colonel’s grasp, to touch Scott gently on the arm. “I know,” she said softly. “I do try not to get myself killed.”

There was a softly approving sound from behind them. “I regret that I am needed elsewhere on site. I will be in contact once we have more information. Scott, Kayo. Thanks again for your assistance today.” Colonel Casey marched off, bearing down on a cluster of GDF personnel making for the downed plane.

They watched her go for a moment. “Can Shadow make it back to the Island on her own, or shall I call Virgil for a lift?” Scott finally turned back to Kayo.

She shook her head. “She’s still airworthy, just … visible.” She sighed. “Brains is not going to be happy.”

Scott nodded. “Brains is not happy as we speak. Come on. The sooner we get home, the sooner he can get to fixing her.” They both walked to the cliff face where Shadow was perched. “I’ll pace you back to the island, just in case there are any complications,” he offered awkwardly.

Kayo smiled. “Thanks.”

Scott stared up at the craft. “So, um, ‘love language’?”

She snorted. “Blame Penny. It’s some retro interpersonal communication theory she’s discovered. She will make you take the test, and read the book.”

Scott groaned. “Is there a Cliff’s Notes version, at least?”

She quirked a smile. “I’ll write you a summary.” Then she frowned. “It’s not likely I’ll be airborne anytime soon.”

Scott touched her shoulder hesitantly. “It wasn’t your fault, Kayo. Brains won’t hold a grudge for that. It’s a different situation to Gordon’s carelessness with the nanocrete.”

Kayo laughed. Gordon had been made to physically scrape the nanocrete off the hull of Thunderbird Four, then Brains had made an elaborate show of scanning every millimetre of the hull for stress and weakness arising from the cleaning, before, finally, stripping all the paintwork, and repainting her from the basecoat primer – with plenty of time to allow the five coats to thoroughly dry. Scott and Gordon had been forced to respond to an emergency with the submarine pods while Thunderbird Four was in ‘dry dock’, and Gordon had learnt his lesson. Thoroughly.

“Well, then, time to face the music.” Kayo accessed her wrist controller, and commanded Shadow to detach from the cliff to allow her entry.

“FAB,” Scott responded. “See you in the sky!”

He started trotting off towards One, and Kayo could feel him glancing over his shoulder to make sure Shadow was performing correctly. She snorted. Motherhen.

As both Thunderbirds rose into the sky, Scott’s hologram popped up in front of her, a smug grin on his face. “Do you want to say it?”

Kayo smirked in return, and replied by pushing the throttle forward as she whooped: “Thunderbirds Are Go!”

[citruslllad]

@nebulabun hey man i'm so sorry for hijacking your au but it's been sitting in my brain going brrrrr so at this point it's an au of an au. notes and thoughts under the cut 👇👇👇

(warning, the text might be a little glitchy atm)

(warning, the text might be a little glitchy atm)

first off it's like that book meme length of tma without emmet |_____| vs length of tma with emmet |___|. emmet gets in a job as an archival assistant because elias is like oh he'll be SO struck with grief and focused on his brother and he's gonna sabotage the others to find him. maybe even interact with a couple of entities in the process >:) but then he 1 saves jon from getting marked by the desolation during his meeting with jude (while gettin marked himself during the getaway rip 😔) and 2 literally helps sasha figure out elias' plan and why she wasn't promoted to head archivist instead. elias is FUMING but can't really do much when emmet has a dinosaur and a soul sucking chandelier as companions

speaking of sasha, i think the not-it dies during that whole encounter with emmet BEFORE it can get sasha, and that's why during nebula's first comic with the statement afterwards, whoever's recording (either jon since the guy can never catch a break, or maybe martin/someone less pressing since they don't have archivist powers to get emmet to talk more) had so many questions- because the not-them wasn't really as well known yet, at least not by whoever was recording. so i think the not-them in some weird twist of fate brings emmet and sasha together, since sasha, ever since the jane prentiss incident, always feels like she dodged a bullet. all THAT, plus. dudududdududuuduu michael. the bastard.

michael sits there like oh this is gonna be so FUN he's gonna be SPIRALING because of all this plus his BROTHER is LOST IN TIME that's enough to break someone!! and then he just goes nah i'm fine :] i can feel him, he's alive somewhere. and now i have a massive resource to find him. i'm depressed and i pushed people away and hurt them but we're all good now :] and michael just (Φ_Φ) but he still tries!! it's kinda funny actually

later on when daisy & basira join the crew (because sasha & emmet figure out elias, say.. sometime before the unknowing ritual occurs) emmet actually sorta bonds with daisy. at first she hates him because he's so blunt with her and how bad of a person she is before he just sighs one day and says "i never said you are a bad person. i am emmet, and if you are a bad person, then i am as well. i hurt people, physically and emotionally. but we have resolved things, and are closer because of it. if we can work things out, then so can you" which just. Eats At Her but softens her up just a little and helps her at least TRY to reach out. as time goes on i can imagine they'd start working out together?? sparring and that kinda stuff. helps relieve the stress PLUS emmet learning how to actually defend himself instead of just the stuff he picked up from public transportation PLUS emmet learns how to shoot a GUN.

how could i forget- i feel like emmet would have had a MASSIVE hyperfixation on What The Ghost and absolutely fanboy over melanie. i'm not sure if he'd encourage or discourage her from trying to kill elias, but he'd definitely be a victim of one of her Slaughter episodes. sometimes the guy is a bit too blunt for his own good and she stabs him with a pencil (at this point he's been marked by the stranger, the desolation, the spiral AND the slaughter. elias greatly considers replacing jon with him at this point)

anyways i'm tired and that is all i'm typing for tonight <333

[beautiful-monsters-raging]

but use your freedom of choice

(while you still can) Title taken from the song Freedom of Choice by DEVOVision.

Leo has something to tell Usagi.

_____

Trigger warnings include vomiting, fears of rejection, brief mentions of dysphoria, discussion of abortion and abortion-related politics (although the last one you should already be prepared for on this blog).

This is a story from a larger collection that you can read on my AO3 (that series has its own tags, make sure to read them all)

"I'm pregnant."  

The words don't emerge so much as escape, slipping from Leo's mouth as he and Usagi wash dishes together. He wants to grab them from the air, take them back, but it's too late. A dish slips from Usagi's hands and crashes into the sink, pieces shattering everywhere.  

Leo had had a plan. A scheme, really, a cunning and clever scheme. He'd be subtle about it, carefully feel out Usagi's perspective on choice and free will and whatnot, test the waters. He'd do it all himself, this time, so his brothers wouldn't accidentally help him into a disaster like his coming out had been (would have been, but Usagi had been so understanding, and really there was no way Leo could be so lucky twice, but)  

Anyway. He'd planned to get Usagi alone after dinner, make out with him a little, that would help things, right? Or would Usagi feel manipulated? He should have looked up the role horniness played in these types of conversations; someone must have written something. He should have, should have, should have...  

The thing is, Leo's brain is on the whole a whirling mess by now, and he's not thinking nearly as clearly or carefully as he ought to. So, when Usagi comments about how Leo’s been moving a little stiffly recently, is everything all right, all those carefully planned excuses go straight to hell and what comes out is the absolute, damning truth.  

"You guys okay?" Mikey calls from the living room, where Leo's brothers are watching TV and pretending not to be staying nearby "just in case." Like Leo wouldn't be able to handle Usagi on his own if...if he....  

Maybe it's considering the possible consequences of his latest fuckup, maybe it's just the fact that his body has been hijacked by a goddamn parasite, but Leo's dashing to the trash can before he can think, falling to his knees and throwing up. Ice Cream Kitty sticks her head out of the freezer, giving him a sympathetic whine, and oh god, the fucking cat's going to hear whatever comes next, isn't she?  

"We're fine!" Usagi calls back, voice slightly strangled. He hurries over to Leo's side, dropping to his knees and rubbing his shell.  

"Breathe, Leonardo, it's all right." His voice is so fucking tender Leo wants to sob, so he does, spitting up tears and snot and vomit and ugh, he's so gross. But that doesn't faze Usagi, it never has, and he holds on to Leo until the puking stops.  

Leo slumps over the edge of the trash can, panting, staring directly down at his radically altered dinner. For a wild moment he thinks he's somehow managed to spit it up, pulled off a miracle reverse miscarriage to get out of this conversation, but no such luck.  

Usagi stops rubbing his back, taking a slow, deep breath. "Leonardo--"  

"I'm getting rid of it." He doesn't look away, can't face hope or rage or whatever nightmare he's going to see in Usagi's eyes. "I...I can't--I'm not ready to be a parent, 'Sagi. I don't know if I'll ever be ready, and if I did it wouldn't be by--" He cuts himself off, breath suddenly strangled in his throat.  

The thought of laying an egg is sickening; Leo doesn't know what he would have done if Donnie, amazing Donnie, hadn't studied his unique anatomy over the years, until he was prepared for such an eventuality to give Leo the exact kind of care he needed. If it hadn't been for him, Leo would be...  

Well. Probably as screwed over as a significant chunk of birthing humans in America at the moment, to be honest.  

But he might be still screwed, in his own way. Leo forces himself to sit up and turn to face Usagi, blinking away tears. Fucking hormones making him want to cry all the time.  

"I'm sorry," he gasps. "I'm so sorry, Usagi, I don't want to take this away from you, but I have to, I need to, and I'm sorry, I know you wanted to give Jotaro a sibling someday, maybe, but I--"  

"Leonardo," Usagi cuts him off. He looks, he looks almost angry and Leo's going to fucking hurl again--  

"Leonardo, why in all the worlds would you think little enough of me to assume I would deny you your choice?"  

Leo blinks, stares. "....What?"  

"Maybe," Usagi reminds him gently, "and some day. And never in a million years, not if the price meant bringing pain to someone I loved."  

"I..." Leo's heart is fluttering, or maybe it's the parasite sucking his innards dry.  

"You are real, Leonardo. You will always be more important to me than some dry possibility. And if I was a man who felt otherwise, I would not be worth your time."  

Leo stares at him for a few seconds, then bursts into tears, slumping forward into Usagi's arms and weeping like a fucking child. Relief shudders through his bones, relief and the raw aftereffects of fear, pressure popped like a balloon.  

"I love you, Leonardo," Usagi says, planting a kiss on his head. "I always will. Nothing you do with your body can change that."  

He holds Leo until the crying stops, just like he did with the puking, only Leo doesn't feel disgusting anymore. He feels safe, he feels loved, and he clings on to that feeling--to Usagi--with everything he has.

______

Author's Note:

I am, thankfully, in a state that is still firmly pro-choice. But this attack on my rights is sickening, and I wish allsupport and compassion in the world to my sisters, brothers, and siblings who aren't so lucky. I love you.

[syn4k]

you know why I’m here.

(From the @hermits-in-space Space AU, more formally known as Scar's Failsafe Guide to the Galaxy (SFGG)! Interested in this oneshot? Go follow the account!)

---

Really, thought Chrys, shimmying through an annoyingly constrictive air vent, it's not like they hadn't expected anyone to show up. They shouldn't have. And yet, here he was: very weak motion sensors on this side of the ship, an unopened vent with an easily enough hijackable airlock bay, crawling through and trying to figure out where in hell Hex was.

They could be being contained against their will. Or forced to do slave labor. Or knocked unconscious. Or worse.

We don't think about worse, Chrys firmly told himself. We get in. We get the idiot. We leave. Simple enough.

Who's "we?" another, quieter voice in his brain whispered, and Chrys sighed.

He'd been tracking down his annoyingly elusive younger brother for... a couple cycles now. Six, maybe seven? It's not his fault that Hex had managed to get off of the planet somehow and promptly disappeared into the greater universe, and yet everyone seemed to think it was.

The job here was to get this idiot back home, sign the pact or whatever, and then things would be okay-ish. Normal-ish. Then again, being out in space running with the stars know who change a person, and not always for the better.

Off-track. He was getting off-track. Were those voices he could hear? He crawled closer to the opening in the vent, making sure that nobody could see from any angle. Stars, it was cramped in here.

"-found a ship docked to the side of ours," sighed one voice. Shit. Five doubles says that's mine.

"Markings, affiliation?" asked another voice, slightly nasally and undoubtedly tired. Chrys didn't know what time this ship ran on, but it was probably early. Good.

"None that I can see so far from the cameras," said the first. "It's yellow, though, which is an odd choice for a singleperson ship."

"Any sign of the person themself?" asked a third voice. Chrys caught sight of a long reptilian tail flapping. He couldn't see the other two yet.

"None," said the first voice.

"Might run another scan," sighed the second. "It's ass-o-clock in the morning, False. Rock paper scissors to see who has to do it?"

"I don't need sleep," said the third voice icily. "I need answers."

Somewhere, Chrys could hear a door opening but not shutting. The second and third voice (False?) walked off together, arguing about... something. The first person stayed where they were, and walked slowly into the view of the slats between the vents. Pink helmet, solid build, is that a... tail???

"Hex, what are you doing up here this late?" asked the guy in the pink suit. Chrys pressed his face to the vent, trying to get a good view of the person he had been looking for for so long.

"Couldn't sleep," said Hex's voice- yep, that was Hex- from just out of seeing range. "What's going on?"

"Unrecognized single-person flyer docked," said the first voice. "Take a look."

Hex finally came into view, but what Chrys saw was absolutely not what he expected.

See, in a species of shapeshifters, their family had made a pact with a neighboring one of a different kind so that when their kids came of age to change into their forms, they would choose the form of the other species.

Speculti (or, Hex and Chrys' species) could only shapeshift once, into the likeness of the first person of another species they touched.

Before he left, Hex had not undergone this procedure. Now, though, he looked markedly different..?

"Huh," said Hex, bending down. "Looks kinda like... oh, shit."

"Like what?" asked the first voice.

"Like me," said Chrys, dropping down onto the floor (that was a bigger drop than expected) (that hurt) (goddamn OW). "Hex, what the fuck did you get yourself into?"

"This was not on my bingo card for the year," muttered Hex. They sighed. "X, this is my brother Chrysalis, better known as Chrys. Chrys, this is Xisuma, or shortened X, the captain of this ship, a.k.a the H.S.S."

"You assholes better unhand my brother right now or there'll be hell to pay," Chrys growled, taking out a pair of nunchucks and popping them threateningly.

"No, listen," said Hex, walking in between the two. "Listen. It's not like that. I'm here of my own free will, sorta."

"Sort of?"

"...do you have a reason for breaking onto my ship?" asked X.

"Good question, actually," said Hex, looking over his shoulder to look at X and back at Chrys. "Why the hell are you here?"

"Oh, you know why I'm here already," said Chrys, starting to spin his nunchucks absently around. "We're going home."

[troutfur]

✍️What if an augur tried to break down the augur system?

Oooh, that's a fun concept! Particularly for a divergent path in the story following Hollyleaf. Her whole deal being the unspecial sibling even here where it's a no powers AU really does lend itself well to it. And because of Jaypaw's dickery in the latest installment, she's got a motive for coming to the realization the system creates entitled brats and that she wants no part of it.

I'll have to keep this prompt in storage and give it a good think. I may want to try whipping out a quick thing once I get a more concrete idea of how the plot may go.

Augur AU is a little weird in how it really doesn't dwell much on the system or really comment on it. I've said to someone else before that Augur AU is trying to be an Arthurian lai and not a Robin Hood ballad in that it takes the aristocratic system somewhat for granted rather than try to challenge it*.

For sure, I want the audience to have a sense that Jaypaw's bratty behavior is derived from his upbringing, so there is a certain commentary on the flaws of the system. But the resolution I'm building up towards has Jayfeather's daughters turn out better than him not because the system was dismantled but rather that he took steps to mitigate the effects of the patrician upbringing. An individual solution rather than a systemic one, you get me?

In a way the plot for mainline Augur AU could be read to be very conservative, and I'm very fine with it coming across that way, although I do want to be clear that's not my stance for real life politics at all. It's really just that for the main plot I don't want to tear down the system of this society when it's very interesting to me to play around in as-is. Plus, I don't think any committed monarchists are going to be convinced by my cat fic. But for a side story what-if scenario the idea of exploring a story in which it's torn down from the inside is very tempting.

Aaaaaaanyway, sorry I hijacked your ask to talk about the themes of my own work, hahahah. You just got the cogs turning in the brain and I had to spit out this whole thing.

*How truly revolutionary of a figure Robin Hood is could very well be subjected to debate, particularly for how as the canon developed and his time period was locked in as Prince John's regency in his brother Richard the Lionheart's name the undertones became simply that the wrong guy was the one wearing the crown during the time he was an active outlaw. But that's probably better discussed with a historian of English literature, which I am not. I'm a cat fantasy novel blogger.

[exovapor]

I'm OBSESSED with your writing. Can you try.. Maybe, Donnie being a filthy boy being an 'stalker-ish' of his long time crush? Be checks their FB for new posts, saves every picture of them he finds? He doesn't mean to be a creep, feels guilty, but just doesn't know how to ask for more than friendship?

Good afternoon Anon. Here is my short story in relation to your ask.

I wasn't sure where you wanted me to take this, so I had to do a bit of guessing on my part. I hope this something like you were wanting.

I will admit that this ask was a bit of a struggle for me, not knowing a clear direction to take it outcome made me a little unsure of my writing and guessing abilities LOL. However, I will admit to crying along with the characters in this story more than once.

Thanks again for the ask and the initial compliment. I hope to continue to earn your favor in future posts.

· Stalker [noun]: 1a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention. 2a person who hunts game stealthily.

· Donnie stared at the definition on his one of his monitor screens while his various other screens were busy flashing receipts of files downloaded, text trail streams from your phone, notices of any social media post/update/like/heart/emoji, a GPS line grid of your routes today (overlayed over the routes you’d taken previously), and data search hits of anything and everything that pertained to you.

· At this point, the boy had literally every picture you had ever posted, anywhere, of yourself. In fact, he had all the pictures that other people posted of you in them. He had even gone through the effort of designing a face recognition program that picks you out of the background of total strangers’ pictures and, yeah, he had those in a file too.

· He has special file folders that compile things that you like, things you don’t like, things that make you happy, things that make you sad. He is your own personal Pinterest and you didn’t even know it… and maybe that is the part that keeps bothering him so much.

· He sits staring at that word and definition and chewing his bottom lip. True, he knows the word and the meaning, but he needed to LOOK at it, analyze it, mull it over in his guilt ridden brain.

· He just KNEW the word Stalker couldn’t apply to him.

· After all, he isn’t harassing or persecuting you, you don’t know! So, it isn’t necessarily ‘unwanted attention’. It is just…unknown attention.

· Stealthily, hmmmm, did that part apply to him? Well, He isn’t EXACTLY being stealthy.

· If you knew about technology like him, then you would probably see his programs running on your devices and be alerted to his activities. AND, if you shared his love and view of technology, then you would probably be more understanding of his activities and not consider them stealthy…just data mining. In fact, you might applaud him.

· ‘Ok, that was taking it a bit too far’, Donnie thinks to himself and he feels a band tighten and squeeze around his infatuated heart.

· He is almost certain that you would be shocked to learn of his extra curricular activities and how they revolve around every aspect of you.

· Regardless of how he tried to spin the truth and wiggle out of the definition of stalker, Donnie still felt guilty for invading your privacy. However, he honestly couldn’t help himself…at least not anymore.

· He has fought the urge, the nagging thoughts and the burning need, to know more about you for what seemed like an eternity.

· Listen to him, he is starting to sound dramatic like Mikey! What is his turning into? He is losing his rational edge!

· To be accurate, it hasn’t been an eternity. In fact, he has known you 1 year, 36 days, 14 hours, 11 minutes, and 23 seconds to be exact. However, you started occupying space in his mind 2 minutes into meeting you and your claim over his mind has grown exponentially over time.

· You were quiet and reserved during that first meeting, so there wasn’t much to go on. It started as a simple visual interest with a thought of ‘Oh. She’s pretty’.

· However, then you started talking and that changed everything.

· You opened up more and more each time you hung out with their little group, revealing layers and layers of interests and personality. You were fascinating…and that’s when his thoughts about you really started to snowball and spiral out of control.

· You went from being a simple pretty face to being a walking embodiment of everything he seriously ever dreamed of having in a mate.

· Early on, there were three sticking points that really made Donnie’s feelings problematic. 1. He was a nearly seven foot tall walking talking turtle and you weren’t. 2. You had a boyfriend that you were deeply in love with and adored. 3. Donnie was too insecure about #1 and how you felt about inter-species dating to let you know that you had started to OWN his heart.

· Now, thanks to his surveillance, there were only two sticking points….#1 and #3.

· He still remembers the feelings of that day, 44 days ago, when the blip of information popped up on this screen alerting him to the fact that your boyfriend was starting to stray.

· Donnie had severely conflicting feelings bombard him at once and it was overwhelming.

· The initial knee jerk reaction was elation, one of the problems blocking him from you may soon be null.

· However, the feeling of elation only lasted for a second or two before the intense anger and sadness set in. Donnie was honestly shocked at the depth of his anger, he didn’t even know he had that level of malice in him. Had he been in physical proximity to your boyfriend at that moment in time, Donnie isn’t sure that he wouldn’t have hurt your guy…or worse.

· How COULD this guy do this? WHY would he? He HAD YOU! What the heck was this guy thinking? Not only did he have you, but you thought the world of him. When you spoke about him you would smile so genuinely, your eyes would shine and gaze off into a bright imagined future. Donnie was always so jealous to watch it happen, he wondered what it would be like to be THAT GUY. And here the idiot was throwing it all away and meeting up with another girl!

· WHAT THE…(yes, this called for a curse) HELL…IS WRONG WITH HUMAN MEN?

· As the anger set root in his heart, the sadness engulfed Donnie like an all-consuming wave. He realized he was going to have to share this information with you, somehow, and that he was going to have to watch as it destroyed you.

· At first, Donnie had a plan to try and save you both from that fate. True, it would hurt him more to save your relationship, but he would rather be the one facing the pain and not you.

· He TRIED to circumvent the situation. He sent anonymous messages to your boyfriend stating that he knew about the infidelity and that he would tell you if needed. However, it didn’t seem like your boyfriend cared because he sent messages back stating Donnie could, basically, go fuck himself.

· Life had cruel sense of irony, thought Donnie, that is exactly what I do since this moron has the woman that I love.

· So, after trying for nearly two weeks to stop what was happening behind your back, Donnie had no choice but to let you in on the secret.

· Donnie couldn’t come right out and tell you that he caught your boyfriend cheating by hijacking your data streams and the data streams of those around you. So, Donnie intercepted some texts between your boyfriend and his mistress and he then sent you a text, under the guise of your boyfriend, telling you to meet him at a specified restaurant for a date.

· It had been a gut wrenching night for Donnie. He remembered watching it all play out on camera feeds from around the restaurant and street outside. He watched you dressed up in your pretty dress get out of your cab in front of the restaurant. You had such a lovely smile on your face, you must have thought you were in for a romantic evening.

· He watched as you walked inside and how the hostess got flustered and confused by a 2nd girl showing up for your boyfriend’s seated-for-two table.

· Donnie stopped breathing as your eyes found the new couple holding hands and giving each other sweet kisses across the table. Hands and lips that were supposed to be yours were touching some stranger.

· Donnie watched your smile and eyes die…the light of your inner sun go out…

· …and it killed him.

· He’s not sure who was crying the hardest, you standing there in that restaurant witnessing the scene or him back at the lair watching your world crush around you on his monitor.

· It had taken a while for you both to recover from that night.

· His brothers noticed his melancholy mood for a couple of weeks but Donnie wouldn’t tell them what was bothering him. And you stayed in your bed, refusing to face the world, for nearly as long.

· Eventually, the group began to notice your silence and absence, so April stopped by your apartment to check on you. She was the one to pull you out of bed, get you to shower and eat. She visited everyday and made sure you had someone to vent to and a shoulder to cry on.

· Donnie was glad that April could be there for you when he couldn’t. He didn’t think it was appropriate for him, a male, to be your confidant at that time. Especially since he felt so much guilt over having to be the one to expose you to that pain.

· No, he didn’t CAUSE the pain, but he did have to make you face it and he didn’t like not being able to protect you from it. You were such a rare, precious creature and watching you in pain felt like he was suffocating slowly.

· There were some points during those first few weeks that he questioned if he did the right thing, but logic told him it would have eventually come to pass with or without his involvement. It was better to rip the bandage of quickly and let you start to heal than it was to let you linger and drag out the inevitable.

· Donnie did secretly check on you every single night during patrol. And, of course, his surveillance feeds were always running. He watched from a distance as his beautiful phoenix burn down to ashes and, eventually, started to rise again.

· Now, it’s been over 3 months and you’ve begun to be more like your old self. Donnie can tell there is a silent sadness there, but you are able to laugh and smile with the group during your get togethers. And each time you two are left alone, his mind nags at him about those last two sticking points.

· Would you be at all interested in him? And HOW does he go about telling you that you have become the center of his world?

· Still staring at the monitor and the Stalker definition, Donnie sighs and rubs the bridge of his snout to release of the pressure now pushing against the inside of his head. The memories of what has happened, the emotions of what was and what is, it was all starting to be too much.

· “Bro, what’s all this?”, Mikey says standing behind Donnie’s chair, talking around a mouth full of pizza.

· “NOTHING!”, says Donnie, voice breaking from the stress of being caught. A startled Donnie quickly taps some keys on his keyboard and the screens revert back to the standard lair camera feeds.

· Mikey may look or even come off as naïve at times, but he’s no fool, he can sense that his older brother is trying to hide something. “Dude, seriously, what was that? I’ve been standing back here reading the screens. I saw Y/N’s name and that looked like her phone number on that other file…, you know the file that looks like texts messages. And why is there a plotted map of the area around her apartment, her work, and to the lair? What’s up?”, Mikey said giving a disapproving look at being thought a pushover.

· “Just standard surveillance, Mikey, nothing to worry about.”, Donnie says trying to placate Mikey’s curiosity. Donnie hates lying, especially to Mikey, but he’s feeling so guilty about being such a…(inward sigh)…stalking creep that admitting the truth is hard to do.

· Mikey stands there staring at Donnie and, as he does, Donnie begins to fidget with his computer chair armrests.

· Mikey stuffs the remnants of the pizza slice into his mouth and does his best Leo impersonation by crosses his arms and staring down at Donnie as sternly as his jolly face can achieve, “Dude, I’m not going to ask you again. You’ve been weird for months. We’ve let it go for the most part but now you are hiding things from me…from ME, dude! You and I, we’re like peanut butter and jelly, we’re ice cream and chocolate fudge, we young dudes have got to stick together. Trust me, bro, I’ve got you!”.

· Donnie stared at the floor, too ashamed to meet Mikey’s eyes any longer. He gave a heavy sigh and reluctantly started to speak, “Sorry Mike, I…I honestly don’t know what’s come over me lately. I’m doing things I never thought I would do, I’m feeling so guilty about it, but I don’t know if I can stop doing it either. I feel…lost.”.

· Mike relaxed his leader stance and leaned against one of Donnie’s lab tables, “Bro, I can tell you’ve been carrying some heavy stuff lately. You need to let it out.”

· Donnie felt the heat rise up through his body like he was suddenly being consumed by a fire and he ripped his glasses off his face and drew them down on the desk in frustration, “Mikey, I’m in love with Y/N. I have been for a while. I have been…”, Donnie hangs his head in shame, “…tracking all her digital foot prints and watching her. In fact, I’m the reason she found out that asshole boyfriend of her's cheated.”

· Mikey’s mouth drops open at Donnie’s demeanor and use of the word ‘asshole’, “Whoa, dude, why didn’t you say something earlier?”.

· Donnie can feel a stinging at the corners of his eyes, this was so embarrassing, so frustrating, so…..so many things at a once. He didn’t have a response for Mikey, all he could do was shake his head.

· Still with his head hung down and staring at the floor, Donnie starts to hear Mikey chuckle. Donnie looks up to see Mikey’s eyes on him and for some reason they are full of merriment at his painful dilemma. Donnie stares at his, normally, very considerate brother in astonishment, this isn’t like Mikey at all!

· “Mikey, I’m more than serious here, now is not the time to make fun of me. What is so funny?”, Donnie asks exasperatedly.

· Mikey shakes his bald head and claps his brother on the shoulder with his green hand, “Bro, she thinks you’re cute.”.

· “W-What?!”, Donnie stammers out.

· Mikey, still chuckling, says, “Yeah, dude, that’s why I asked WHY you didn’t say something about liking her sooner, she’s always thought you were cute. She and I talk about it all the time.”.

· Donnie just stares at his jolly brother in silence. His mind is too blown to form a sentence.

· Mikey turns to leave stating, “And by the way, dude, stop watching her like that…that’s just creepy.”.

@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @kokokatsworld @nittleboo @the-second-circle-of-shell

[master-sass-blast]

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.

[kaimelia]

Hi can you do one as like an after party reception for maggie and winston’s party with amelia and link having food and playing with the kids? maybe also thinking about their wedding?

the wedding mood

a/n: hi! thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy it <3

-----------

"This may be the first time in history this hospital has gotten through a wedding without a disaster," Meredith muttered, bringing her flute of sparkling water up to her lips.

"I'm sure there's still plenty of time for that to happen." Amelia grinned as she and Link swayed back and forth, his arms wrapped around her from behind and holding her close to his body. "How're you feeling? You've been on your feet for a few hours now." Meredith shrugged.

"Definitely not ready to run anywhere, but I'm doing surprisingly well. These shoes were not the best choice, though."

"I ditched mine a while ago. Been dancing barefoot for an hour or so, Maggie said it was fine. Luckily this guy's coordinated enough to not stomp on my feet." Link grinned from behind her and kissed the side of her head.

"Watching those kids for the past few months has provided me with many impromptu dance parties to perfect my skills," he whispered. "They all seem really happy." Meredith beamed and glanced over to the corner of the floor her kids had occupied.

"Ellis kept asking why Scout couldn't come with."

"Yeah, he would've pooped in the middle of the ceremony, and it would've smelled like a stink bomb. Maureen wanted to spend more time with him anyway, so we didn't have to worry about childcare. I do miss him, though." Amelia leaned her head back onto Link's chest and sighed. "I didn't think Maggie would get married so soon. I love Winston and all, but it just seems so sudden."

"Love makes you do things you never thought you'd do. I mean, you two decided to have a child while barely knowing each other."

"I think it turned out well," Link shrugged, grinning as he spoke.

"It did. And you're not one to judge; you got married on a post-it note, Mer. I'll never get over how much crap my Mom gave Derek about that for years."

"Probably why she never comes to visit," Meredith rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes darted around the dance floor, looking at all of the couples dancing together and sighing. "I miss having someone to dance with." Amelia stepped forward, holding out Link's hand.

"You wanna steal him? I was just thinking about calling to check in on Scout, anyway." Meredith grinned, taking the hand Link was holding out and following him onto the dance floor.

"I'm surprised Amelia let me steal you; she's been attached to you since the ceremony," Meredith muttered, settling one of her hands on Link's shoulder.

"Weddings make everyone happy."

"And when are we getting another one? Because Zola has been asking me ever since I got back when you and Amelia are getting married." Link shrugged and twirled Meredith around, causing her to laugh.

"We're just taking it as it comes. But, I think this wedding has put weddings in her head. She's all smiley and teary, so I know something is going on inside of her head."

"Promise me you won't hurt her? Because I've seen Amelia go through enough crap in the ten years since I met her, and she doesn't need any more of that. And she really loves you, so please don't screw it up."

"I'm doing my best," Link smiled, glancing over at where his girlfriend had sat down, grinning and waving at her phone screen where he presumed she was talking to their son. "Surprisingly, the pandemic was good for our relationship. We were forced to get to know each other better, and I'm pretty sure all of her parenting woes are gone."

"I mean, if you can handle four kids, you can definitely handle one," Meredith raised her eyebrows.

"Or more. But, no more than four," he muttered, his eyes wide. "Hey, remember when you stood me up on Valentine's Day?"

"God, don't remind me. I still feel bad about it sometimes, even if it turned out for the best. You would've never thought about dating Amelia if we had gotten together."

"It's funny how I still ended up parenting your kids, though. And living in your house, all of that."

"You're family now," Meredith smiled. "And I like having you in the family, so you're not going anywhere." She paused for a moment, looking over at Amelia. "What do I call you? Because you two aren't married, so you're not my brother-in-law yet."

"I just say, family. Less complicated, and it accounts for everyone."

"I mean, you're practically married; it's just the law part we're missing here," Meredith mumbled, her eyebrows furrowed. "Brother-in-love."

"Hm, I like it." They turned their heads as Amelia approached.

"Scout's crawling laps around the place, and now I'm paranoid we'll miss his first steps," she groaned, placing her hands on her hips. "Can I have my boyfriend back?" Meredith grinned, dropping her hand from Link's shoulder.

"He's all yours. I'm gonna go hijack Winston," she waved goodbye before heading towards the newlyweds, Amelia and Link smiling as they watched.

"What did you two talk about?"

"You, mostly." She blushed as his hands settled around her, pulling her close to his body. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"You have told me that many times already. But you look incredibly handsome, too," she wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head onto his chest. "I wanna get married. Not today or tomorrow, but sometime. And if you want that too, we can start thinking about it. Like, really thinking," she whispered, smiling as he kissed her head.

"The wedding has you thinking about it?" She nodded slowly.

"It's more just the last piece of the puzzle in my brain. Seeing our family so happy, and everything here."

"So, you wanna really wanna get married?"

"As long as you do."

"Amelia, I have been ready to marry you for months now. Hell, I would say let's go down to Vegas tonight, but I also want a big ceremony," he muttered against her hair. Amelia pulled her head back to look at him.

"Well, we're gonna have to wait a while. It's June, so New Orleans is all hot and smelly," Amelia scrunched her nose as she spoke, laughing with him. "So, next April? After Scout's birthday?"

"Sounds like a plan," Link pressed his lips to her forehead, tightening his embrace around her.

"Amelia! Get over here!" Meredith shouted, motioning to where she was standing. Amelia frowned, slowly dropping her hands from Link's body as she walked away.

"What's going on?"

"Maggie's about to throw the bouquet."

Link grinned as he watched from the side, standing next to Winston and clapping as the flowers flew into the air, beaming even wider as he saw who was holding them. Amelia glanced over at him, biting her lip and smiling as their eyes locked.

"Looks like you're next," Winston muttered from beside him.

"That's the plan."

[theparadoxmachine]

I dreamed of large sea animals again last night. Whales and hammerhead sharks. Or maybe hammerheads that behaved like whales. I was on a field trip of sorts, whale watching followed by a lecture type thing in a large auditorium. My bff was there with her brother and they were giving out enormous plushies of sea critters. Then the speaker turned out to be Scott Bakula? And he had left acting to become an ice skater? And was giving lectures on the physics of ice skating? Idk....

Then the lecture shifted to one about animals parasites and their was a question about heart worms and the guy next to me who was that guy on youtube and tiktok who does all the jokes about women's fashion (idk he looks super young but has a really deep voice and does jokes in front of his bathroom mirror sometimes too) he was there and apparently knew about the parasites and had studied them but had a hard time talking in public about it. I was sitting next to him and took over. I apologized for hijacking him but that I knew about it because I have dogs. But hearing me talk so candidly about heartworms made him nauseated. Scott Bakula had come up to us because he was impressed by our parasite knowledge (?) But I had to grab a plastic grocery bag out of my backpack (dog owner again) so he could throw up. Apparently dream!Bakula is a sympathetic vomiter but luckily I had one for him too.

Oh and apparently we were staying in an old house and the chaperones were being interviewed by the local press after lights out but I interrupted bc 1. They were in the kitchen and I needed something. And 2. The chaperones didn't know shit about animals. Ir Scott Bakula, probably

My brain is weird.