#thanos fanfic

[idkimboredrnsodoomscroll]

I need to read a fic where it’s just Thanos and Agatha being petty bitches over the fact that they both like Death and they have a whole fight and Agatha destroys him and all the Avengers are like wtf and while this is happening Wade is just sitting in a lawn chair with sunglasses on sipping on lemonade while just making the moste out of pocket and stupid pick up lines to Rio.

And then in the end Thanos is like “but I wiped half the population for you baby” and Rio is like “bitch you didn’t kill them, just zapped them out of existence and now they’re back. Agatha on the other hand sunk the Titanic and started the Hindenburg fire just for me, that’s real romance” then they kiss and skip off into the sunset holding hands. And the Avengers are like WTF. Then Wade sighs gets of from his lawn chair and says “maybe they’ll be down for a thresome” and just slowly follows them into the sunset. (Knowing those lesbian bitches will never let it happen).

The end

[icarusredwings]

A date with Death.

Slightly nsfw.

The moon is out. The only thing about this specific moon is that it's a full moon. The Blood moon to be specific.

They came every march. And every march you could count on Wade Wilson to be busy that night.

Currently, he was sitting at the top of a sky scraper, kicking his feet over the edge with earbuds in.

Next to him was a sweet little spread, an expensive wine, two glasses, a couple of sodas, a bag of burger and fries, and a box with a small heart-shaped cake inside it, strawberries lining the top.

In his hands was a large bouquet of dark colored roses, burgandy, black, and reds (of course). He knew the moment he gave them to their recipient, they would die instantly, but he knew so would he. And he was okay with that.

Starting to hum, he pulled up the sleeve of his jacket, glancing at his hello kitty watch. 5 til 3.

Any moment now, he thought, glancing at the things next to him, moving the glasses over to be closer to the cake, wanting it to look perfect.

Look, if anything, he was a lover. A lover who just happened to love fighting and love kiling. But that didn't make him any less of a hopeless romantic, especially for dark harked ladies that thought he was funny.

Sure, Wade had a lot of lovers. Never being able to pin himself to just one. He spent more time with some than others, but it didn't mean he loved them any less. Even if it was only a couple of minutes a week or, in this case, an hour a year. A singular, annual date.

No, it wasn't merely enough for him, not enough for her either, but he enjoyed their little time together. How she held him and replied to his quips with further jokes that turned him into a puppy, head over heels.

It's not his fault his heart was so big. Honestly. But he knew that even if everyone left him, she would still come each March to see him.

"Welp.." He whispers, wrapping up his Ipod, laying it neatly next to the sodas as he stood up.

Turning on the heel of his good shoes (cheap half off dressage from the thrift, slightly tight, but perfect for dancing) he held the roses near his chest, like a corpse he leaned back, letting himslef fall.

This had to be one of his favorite parts. The cool wind on his back, the freshly ironed jeans and button-up flapping in the wind, the soft sherpa lined denim feeling like laying in a bed of sheep.

"Oh my darling.. Must you always take a swan dive off a 50 story building?"

He smiles, opening his eyes to see that he was back up on that roof, the dark robbed woman rubbing her hand on his arm.

"How else am I supposed to get your attention, sugar?"

She giggles, glancing over the side with an inquisitive hum. "Hhm.. always such a lovely color of red for me."

"Of course. Anything for my boney muffin." He takes her hand, kissing it softly.

"Wade Wilson, you flirt."

"My middle name. How was your trip, pumpkin?"

"Mmh... decent. Such a tease you are. You know that?"

"Obviously. Oh! These are for you. Put them on my grave when I finally get one, willya?" He coes.

She accepts the flowers, barley getting a hold on them before they wilted, drying up. Dying.

"They're beautiful.. but.. erm.. Who's that?" She questions, glancing behind them to a dark figure practically clinging to the roof top exist door.

"Oh, that's just Wolvie. He's fine, got him a number 5 meal and a soda. He's scared of heights." Wade grins, giving him a lazy wave but Logan didn't take his claws out of the metal door to wave back, the other hand holding a burger but he did tip his head. "Ma'am."

"Yeah, he should be at the end of your book somewhere. Slipepry one. Just like me."

"Mmh.. Logan Howlett...Wait I thought I've already taken him?"

"You did! He's a different one. The best one." He smiles towards the man, putting his head agisnt her shoulder.

"The man with many names.... Yes, he should be."

"Huh?"

"He should be scared of heights. I've been trying to catch him since the early 1900s. Slippery indeed...Finally caught him a few years back." She doesn't bat another.. well... dosn't move her skull away from him.

Becoming a bit nervous, Wade intertwined their hands. "Y-yeah he uh... he was curious. So.. you dont have to worry about him, though. Oh! Look! The ambulance finally showed up. Sheesh, tough break, fellas. You're too late!" He shouts at them.

"I see.." she turns back to Wade, grinning. "Don't worry.. I won't take him from you just yet.. he IS the one you were talking about last time, Yes?"

Now, Wade wasn't blind. Death was a jealous woman. Possesive of what was hers. Though Wade wasn't hers. Not quite yet. Not for.. awhile.

It's why she was so intrigued with him. So infatuated. She's never met a human that has wanted to die so much in all these centuries. So badly wishing he could crawl into her arms and let her pet his head for thousands of years as eternity went by.

He nods, blushing a bit. "Y-yeah.."

"Mmh.. quite a looker is he not?"

"Oh he so is. And he acts all tough but really hes a bit softy."

"I bet he's not soft everywhere-" She says, cassually, making Wade cough out a chuckle.

"Oh- my- god! My lady's a freak!" He laughs, still kicking his feet some as he grunts. "Not wrong tho.."

"I bet not." He watches as she looks over the small moonlight picnic he laid out for them. "Wade.. what is all this?"

"It's for our date! I made a cake and everything- well actually Wolvie helped me make it but I cut up the strawberries!"

"You did? Aww, you must be tired from such hard work. But my love..you know I can't eat." She says, frowning, not wanting to rain on his small parade.

"Oh I thought about that already. So I can eat it and then you can taste it. Fun right?"

Her black heart swells, running her hand up to behind his ear, holding his jaw. "You're too sweet."

Wade closes his eyes, leaning into hold, her thumb running over his cheek.

"Hopefully, his icing is as sweet as the cake." She whispers as he gasps, genuienly becoming giggling. "Sttaapph! You're so bad!"

"The baddest?"

Somehow, Wade knew she was giving him those eyes. The kind that suggested something.

"Oooh, the baddest. You know it, babe. Good thing I love me a bad bitch huh? Actually, It's a good thing you like funny losers. Guess in the lucky one."

"Wade.." She says, "you're not that funny."

"Ouch!!" He exclaims, hand drimatically going over his heart, shifting to fall into her lap. "You've wounded me!!" He whined, sticking out his tongue, pretending to be dead.

She laughs through her nose, holding his head in her thighs, petting over his head as she grabs his hand, rubbing over his bumpy skin.

"You're pretty hot tho.." she mutters, bringing the hand to her breast with a teasing smile.

Opening his eyes, he looks up to her with a big shit eating grin. "Oh, you flatter me! And apology accepted." Sitting up he brings the hand to her neck, starting to kiss up her jaw, little pecks.

"You really mean that? Me being pretty hot? And which is it? Am I pretty or am I hot? Cause I think you're gorgeous-"

"Wade."

"I mean, truly, deeply the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And I don't just mean your killer rack either-"

"Wade."

"Did you do your hair for me? Goddess, forgive me for saying this, but damn, How are you so fine? Half of you is literally bone and Id still fuck ya until your hip needs replaced, What do you think? Right here on the roof? Hm?"

Pushing the food over, he starts to run his fingers down her side, getting to the point where her waist used to be. "Fuck, babe how are you so tiny down here? You know what, We'll fix that. Lemme pump a baby in ya-"

"Wade!" This time, It came from about 30 feet away, behind them.

"Wha!?"

"Let her speak! Damn!"

"oh..." Honestly, he had forgotten entirely that Logan was even here. He was so quiet..

"I tried to warn you, darling.."

"Well, I'm not sorry! He knew what he was getting into when he came here.. I can't believe I even let him come.. cockblocked on my own date.." he mutters, obviously frustrated as he agressivly popped open the wine bottle, starting to pour.

Seeing how upset he got only made her smile, pulling his waist closer, her hand dipping to 'accidently' brush up against him.

"Why would I thought that was a good-" for a second he stopped talking, leaning his head back into her boobs with a big smirk. "Oh but IM the tease?"

"Shh. Your cock dosn't seem very blocked to me."

A small squeal came from him as he handed a glass to her after swirling it a couple of times.

"A nosotros mi carino." He says, rolling his r all fancy like, leaning on her still with such comfortably.

The smiles, smirking lovingly. "A la esperanza de que te rompas el cuello mi amor~" She coes back, raising her glass to his until it made a CLNK noise, dumping it into her mouth.

Wade does the same, chugging the glass only to sit up, crawling to the edge as he coughs, spitting it out. "Oh, that's HORRIBLE! Jesus! White woman drink that shit? Why? I mean- I get it- after having to watch 5 hours of a pathetic excuse for a soccor game, I'd drink that too."

Death giggles, watching Wade refill their glasses.

[justbr0s]

Logan putting Wade on his hands and knees, nudging his legs apart, making room for himself between Wade's thighs.

Logan pressing Wade's head down, making him arch his back, muffling that babbling mouth.

Logan driving into Wade from behind, leaning on top of him, heavy, leaving no room for Wade to even squirm.

Logan biting into Wade's shoulder hard, keeping him in place, rutting into him like the animal that he is.

Wade moaning loud, unable to help himself, so loud their neighbours can hear everything.

Wade chanting 'Logan' - not Peanut, not Wolvie - as he gets close.

"Logan.."

[shadowreader23]

Time Travel Barnes? (Part 1)

The soldier sputtered and coughed, gasping deeply and painfully and feeling his chest contract and expand. He felt cold from landing in the freezing, muddy water below and it only made him feel worse than he'd already felt.

He coughed again, trying to push himself onto his side so he could lift his heavy, tired body. He was hurt, aching and exhausted from the fight, now weaponless. Apparently, forcing them to fight against each other wasn't the only plan Zemo had. The little man had caught him when his guard had dropped for a fraction of a second and he was hit with something. A glowing rock or whatever. A stone with a shine to it. It was thrown at him and he was suddenly forced down to his knees, yelling and screaming around him and from him and he was being propelled through the air.

And from the looks of it, this wasn't the building he was just in. Instead, he was surrounded by trees and grass and muddy puddles. It was raining, a heavy downpour completely soaking him from head to boot. James coughed a few more times as he managed to get up into a crouch, his hair instantly plastered itself to his face and neck and obscuring his vision until he snapped his head around at the sound of gunfire. He was, thankfully, still crouched on his knees, so he wasn't seen. The sounds of battle weren't that far away, but it wasn't close either.

His first priority was to find out where he was and then he could leave and find his way back to Steve and the team. And... he also needed to find a thick jacket, for warmth and to cover his arm. He'd doubt that anyone would speak to him if they saw the weapon just hanging there like some everyday limb. It would frighten them and they’d turn him away or even run. And he didn’t want that.

James eyed the area, scrutinizing and scanning each and everything he saw. His guard was going to be above high now that he knew he could be surprised by a weaponless man. He’d rather not take any chances at this point. And it didn’t help the fact that he was thrown and was now lost in god knows where.

He was drawn back by the continuous sounds of guns and explosions, grabbing his attention and causing him to wince from an oncoming headache. Not a headache from the noise, but one from a forewarning of a memory, something that was trying to break through his mental wall. He’d had a few of war, especially from his, supposed, time as a Howling Commando. WWII had resurfaced a few times, but they hadn’t lasted long, only a few memories, images. Gunfire, explosions, men calling out the name ‘Serg, Barnes, Bucky, or even Jimmy’ when they needed his attention.

He almost jerked in surprise at the deafening boom landing about a mile away, shaking the ground beneath his feet and forcing him to drop his head in instinctual defence. He tried to calm his breathing in that position, his heartbeat having started racing at the sounds and yells in the background.

At least he now had an idea on which way he was going to go. And that was not in the directions of firing guns and detonating bombs and missiles. He’d rather head away from all of that if it were an option.

James glanced over his shoulder at the mass of trees and overgrowth before turning back and cautiously standing, keeping his senses sharp as he started walking away from where he’d heard the battle. He must’ve been near a war currently going on in another country. That didn’t bode too well for his chances of seeing the team soon and being able to get them out of the cell Steve had mentioned. Apparently Stark was a massive talker when drunk and that little info had slipped. A cell-base for the Avengers and anyone of the like.

He was visually scouting ahead and to his sides when he felt his nervous twitch pick up, a familiar feeling hitting his chest. It felt sadly odd to him, a familiar feeling that he shouldn’t be able to place. And yet, he could.

From what he could tell, from the close battle. He was near the front-lines of a war, something he knew and had felt before he’d been HYDRAs’ puppet. It gave him a sad feeling, a sad nostalgic tug at his heart and emotions. The wars he’d supposedly been in so many years ago.

And it may have been him, but he didn’t feel like it. He didn’t feel like that man after these last seventy years.

The Sergeant of the Howling Commandos, that led one of the best teams through the front-lines of war. It was simpler and easier than anything he’d been through already. He’d had memories, nightmares, images, but not many. They all brought him back to the 1940s’, where life seemed like it was at its worst. The depression, the loss, the constant war between them and the Nazi.

But it turned out that there were far worse things to go through… and he’d been through that already.

He sighed deeply while keeping an ear out on his 6, but he didn't hear much. Just the forestry and bulks of gunfire, explosions and yelling miles and miles away from him. Where the military men were fighting and trying to win for more than just their own sake and freedom.

James easily and gracefully vaulted over a low fence, landing quietly in another muddy puddle before continuing to walk in a random direction, hoping to get to a town as soon as possible. It wasn’t dark, not yet, but it was getting there. The sun was already obscured by mountains and trees, not by the ones he was walking through, but the ones further away, in the opposite direction to where he was going. He’d rather not run around in the dark because if he was to come across a camp, he may be mistaken for the enemy and either be shot or taken in for questioning, probably shot if they took in his dangerous appearance, excluding his arm.

If he couldn’t find a town by nightfall, then he’d have to find shelter before it got too dark and that was when patrol usually increased. It wasn't that he remembered this. It was common sense to someone that had been on constant missions with the STRIKE team and knew more than a lot about military tactics.

James let out a deep yelp as he stood on a strange loose piece of wet mud and grass, slipping and sliding on his ass and into a massive, human-sized hole.

And another military tactic… was foxholes…

“Son of a bitch,” he panted after getting over the initial stun of the trip. His heart had metaphorically leapt into his throat and he could feel his blood pumping from the minor surprise. He’d actually forgotten about these. He and the STRIKE team rarely used them when he was apart of HYDRA, and by ‘rarely’ he meant hardly ever. He was covered in more dirt and grime, looking himself over to see the extent and it was like he took a bath in mud.

He was still a little breathless as he slowly pushed himself to sit up, lifting his head high and taking in deep breathes to calm himself. It just made it easier for the rain to pour over his face, drenching even more than before, if it were possible.

The soldier let out another deep huff before managing to push himself to stand, mud and sopping wet dirt either dropping from him or sticking to his black, combat trousers. He was covered in it at this point, from his fall earlier and now. He could only see a few large patches of black and that was only because he wiped some of the dirt.

“This way? ” James instantly snapped to attention, catching the… German voices. German, was he in Europe? He frowned, quickly and swiftly climbed out of the hole with trained silence, moving quickly through the overgrowth until he was a good way away from the foxhole and hidden behind a thicket of trees. He needed to be fast, agile and noiseless now. If there were voices nearby, that may mean that there’s a small troop, half a platoon maybe. He couldn’t risk staying, either way.

So, he didn’t wait around. As soon as he started hearing footsteps, multiple of them, maybe three sets, he gradually took off in the other direction. He was basically doing an ‘L’ shape from where he started. But at least he wasn’t heading anywhere near the explosions and gunfire. The area he was currently in must’ve been a cleared area, or the battle hadn’t gotten this far yet.

He darted around trees and shrubbery, being as fast and efficient as he was in missions. He stayed low and out of sight and gradually started to jog through the forest, feeling confident enough that he was out of eye-line and hearing range.

James slowed when he seemed to come to a clearing, massive and open, with a wide, empty and wet mud covered road crossing a path in front of the forest-line. There was a cornfield on the other side, a large shed on the other side of that and there was a town just off from the farm-like scene. He didn’t have a jacket, so he’d rather not speak with anyone yet. Maybe he could ask the farm owner? Or steal one… He’d rather not, but if it meant he’d warmer and his arm would be covered, then it was a necessity.

The soldier crouched as he got closer to the tree-line, looking both ways cautiously through the heavy rain. Everything had a foggy tint to it, the mist was thick and the rain was thick, splashing up after hitting the ground. His entire suit was heavy and pulling him down. If possible, he’d ask for borrowed clothes if it meant he could dry his tactical gear.

After a few moments of nothing he gradually moved to stand, still watching both ways before quickly darting across the road and over vaulting over the fence, landing gracefully and without fault. He started back into a jog as he made his way towards the cornfield, ducking a little once he hit the first line of them, to avoid a faceful. It was getting a little too dark now, the sun completely went over the mountains. There was minimal light now and he could only just see what was ahead of him as he trotted through the corn. It wasn’t a big field, maybe two yards? A yard and a half? He’d imagine it was the latter since he could already see the other end and shed coming closer.

James skipped a few times during the jog, his boots getting caught in the overly wet dirt and catching his balance off. It was irritating, but the thought that he might get himself some shelter purged that feeling. He wanted and needed somewhere to take a break and catch his breath. There was no way he had any kind of advantage for wherever he was and that unsettled him.

He darted out of the field, panting slightly before suddenly darting behind a close building. There was noise, voices, machinery.

“Take them and kill them, the house,” more German. At least he figured that he must’ve been in Europe somewhere. It made it easier to think about how to get back. Though, he couldn’t pinpoint where the war was. There hadn’t been anything going on with Germany for years now. He didn’t recall any recent war going on that was this big.

James leaned close to the corner, peeking around to see a few men in uniform, very familiar uniform. They were dressed in dark colours, swastika patches on red fabric around their arms. This was a very real re-enactment of WWII and he was suddenly feeling lost, in his own mind at just seeing the uniform and now taking in the voices and language. It was like a sudden spark lit painfully on his insides. He didn’t like this at all.

The soldier snuck further around back and crouched his way into the very well groomed garden with flowers and perfect beauty, clearly, a woman had her way with it. He reached the back door and grabbed the handle, being as quiet as ever as he opened it and snuck in, closing it silently behind him. He could suddenly hear cries, from a woman and fun, raspy voices of old age having caught up and he frowned before lowering himself into a deeper crouch. He shifted through the hall and stopped at the corner, peeking once again and hearing the aggressive orders of a soldier in the house. And then he saw him, angry and pointing his, what looked like, an old MP-40 at two civilians. Where did they manage to get an old German weapon like that?

He internally shook his head to rid himself of the thought and took a silent breath before launching out at the man, swinging his left arm and backhanding the man across the face with his metal fist. He saw blood spray from his mouth and then he ducked, his arm pulling back and he punched forward, straight into his sternum. James then swiftly circled the German and locked the metal forearm against his throat, using the only weapon he had to his advantage. He could still hear the cries in the background, from the seemingly old couple, huddled against the wall, the woman with her head hidden behind the man and the male was watching on in what seemed like terror, eyes wide and filled with fear.

James returned to the choking man, hearing the rasps and gasps of lost breathe as it left him. There was no yelling or audible sounds from him, only the choking and the feeling of his body getting heavy against him. Finally, after some time, he took a final intake of air and dropped against him, the weight forcing James to steady his stance. He gradually lowered the body and himself, taking a quick glance at the two still against the wall. The woman was sobbing into the man's shoulder and the was still staring. He slowly lifted a finger to his mask and made a gesture to keep quiet, the old male instantly giving a rapid nod, stroking the females’ head and hair

The soldier turned back to the body and quickly began raiding it, slipping the MP-40 over his shoulder. A P38 pistol was strapped to his waist, along with two types of hunting knives and three ‘MB’ grenades, small spheres that were highly explosive. All of these weapons were… they pre-dated the 21st century. They were all based on the War in the 1940s’, WWII to be specific.

Either this was very real Role-playing, or this was the war, and by the reactions and expression of the couple in the room… this wasn’t a game. But… that couldn’t be. It was impossible, preposterous nonsense that still hadn’t been reached in their science and technology yet. It was beyond what they had.

“What year is it…” he still questioned out of the need for an answer and confirmation that this was an idiotic thought because it was. The soldier turned to gaze at him, trying to seem less dangerous so he’d answer. He still seemed understandably hesitant and reluctant, but he opened and closed his mouth, like a fish out of water, a few stutters of words and letters, and then-

“1943,” he gasped with a German accent, still afraid and more than a little wary with a hint of confusion. James’ eyes widened, his heart beating faster and his blood pumping could be heard in his skull. He felt sick, nauseous with his stomach churning.

Part 2 anyone?

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, a test of boundaries. But when Natasha responded, her hand rising to Wanda’s waist, the kiss deepened, all the tension between them breaking like a dam.

Natasha’s lips moved against hers with an intensity, a fire long suppressed finally let loose. When they pulled away, Wanda’s cheeks were flushed, her breaths shallow. Natasha’s hand lingered on Wanda’s hip, her gaze locked onto hers with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

Wanda’s other hand was in Natasha’s neck, caressing lightly and the message was clear when she looked toward Carol. “Now kiss her.”

Natasha blinked, her gaze shifting to Carol, who had been watching them with an unreadable expression. For a moment, the room was silent, the air heavy with anticipation. Carol’s smirk had faded, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.

Natasha’s chest tightened, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. The tension between them had been building for weeks, growing ever more intense; in the training room, on nights when the three of them would cuddle up to watch movies together, when they were cooking, but until that moment none of them had dared to take a step towards something more. And this was SO MUCH MORE.

Carol raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward Natasha. “Well?” she asked, her voice low, almost teasing but also nervous.

Not that she'd never done anything like that, but she'd never done anything like that with anyone she cared about. And Wanda and Carol mattered a lot, and Natasha was afraid of ruining everything.

Her eyes met Wanda's for a moment, and then Carol's, and she could see the vulnerability and insecurity in their eyes. That clear doubt, starting to feel like they'd crossed a line, so, before either of them could say anything, she leaned in.

Their lips met with a soft, tentative pressure, as if both were testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepened, the hesitation giving way to something raw and unrestrained. Natasha’s hand cupped Carol’s jaw, her thumb brushing against her cheek as her tongue slipped inside Carol’s mouth. They both moaned, and Natasha felt dizzy as Wanda’s hand scraped her neck lightly.

Carol sighed softly against Natasha’s lips, her hand moving to Natasha’s thigh as the kiss grew hungrier, the weight of weeks of unresolved tension finally breaking. The heat between them was undeniable, and Natasha found herself pulling Carol closer, their bodies moving instinctively.

[fandomfics]

Memories Are All We Have

Pairing: Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel x fem reader

Masterlist

Description: you've lost your memory, but you run into someone you have an undeniable pull to, you just know that you can trust them. Can they help you get your memory back?

Word count: 6.4k

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Au, Canon typical violence, death, mentions of suicide, suicide attempt, memory loss, abandonment, fluff, angst, dialog from some tertiary characters pulled from and/or heavily inspired by quotes from comics and movies.

A/N: the end got a lot heavier than I originally intended, but it just felt right. It is up for interpretation though.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The dark cloudless sky above you shines bright with a billion tiny points of light surrounding a full moon. A beautiful sight cut by the grittiness of the sandy dirt that seeps into the crevasses of your tactical suit, easing you into an overstimulating discomfort that nearly brings you to the brink of a mental breakdown. You lay in the remains of a spacecraft with no recollection of how you came to be amidst the wreckage.

You strain to remember yourself, but nothing appears. You desperately search for something, anything, to tell you the simplest information about yourself but nothing manifests other than a dull ache behind your eyes.

Something bright like a ball of fire appears above you in the sky, growing larger as the seconds pass, you realize it's coming straight towards you. You scramble to your feet and break into a run, looking behind you to see if you're at a safe distance you realize the object has changed course and is still on its way to you. In your haste your foot makes contact with a small boulder and you careen forward flat on your face.

When you turn onto your back you see a figure standing over you. She looks familiar, but the only thing you know is that you can trust her. A feeling deep in your gut says that you know this woman, it's all you have to go on as she stalks forward with a searing anger plastered to her face.

"Please...help me?" You say unmoving.

She briefly hesitates and confusion flashes in her eyes momentarily before she speaks. "Don't play games with me."

She reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you to your feet before restraining both your hands behind you.

"I don't know what youre talking about. I- I cant remember anything. Do you know me?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Shuri, I don't know. Seems a little convenient." Carol Danvers is not convinced that your memories are completely wiped out.

"My scans all show that she's telling the truth. Her memories have disappeared from her brain entirely and so have any powers she had. It's like they never existed in the first place."

"The ship she crashed came from the collector, I'm gonna go gather some Intel. Something tells me this could be more dire than a little memory loss."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A seedy bar with seedier patrons bustles with lively music as Carol waits for her contact. She doesn't know how he gets his information, but he's never been wrong before.

"Hey there hot stuff" he sits next to her as she rolls her eyes hard.

"What do you have for me?" She cuts straight to the point.

"What, no foreplay?" He tried to flash a charming smile but she keeps her face stern until he caves. "Uh, anyway... The collector acquired this new device. It's meant to collect memories in criminal trials to be stored and replayed, but the one he got was modified. It permanently collects them from the subject, typically leaving them a little...dead."

"Shit. Thanks." She hands over his payment and immediately leaves the bar, returning to her ship.

She presses a few buttons on a console and the holographic image of Shuri flickers to life. "What did you find Carol?"

"Its worse than we could have imagined."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You spend days in Shuri's lab as she runs test after test with Carol looking on. Your poked and proded by various instruments and needles until you're on the brink of madness. Neither woman speaks to you much unless it's a requirement of the current test. Instead they speak to each other as if you're not even there.

"The only way for the memories to return is with the device." She concludes.

"You're positive?" The skepticism clear in Carol's eyes.

"Absolutely."

Finally she speaks directly to you, "The plan is simple, the collector wants you back, there's a bounty on your head and I'm going pretend to collect. Once we have access to the building we can use the device and restore your memories before destroying it."

"I don't know how to fight. I'll be useless when we get inside."

Carol rolls her eyes before speaking, "it's a long trip, I'll train you on the way."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The ship is dark and quiet, you're meant to be sleeping, but all you're trying to do is wrack your brain, understand what's happening.

Suddenly there's a blade at your throat. You were so lost in thought you failed to notice Carol creep up on you.

"You're dead." She pulls the knife away from your throat, "how the hell am I supposed to train you? It's like you have no survival instincts whatsoever."

"Well excuse me for having an existential crisis because I know absolutely nothing about myself." You snap.

A frown tugs at your lips as she stalks away in a huff. She is cold, demanding, and ruthless. You know she hates you, but you don't know why. You try to be as nice as possible but it seems to irritate her even more, and she won't tell you anything about yourself, insisting that you'll learn when they get your memories back from the collector.

Day after day for a week your hours are filled with combat training. She doesn't let up no matter how exhausted you are. She punctuates every move to overpower you with a growled "Dead. Again."

Finally you break, "Why do you even care anyway? Huh? You clearly hate me. Why are you even helping me?"

"I don't hate you." You almost believe her. It's clear that it's complicated, not as easy as just hatred. It's deep and complex. Sometimes when she looks at you, her eyes sparkle for a fraction of a second as if she's remembering something good before morphing to disdain.

"Please, just tell me..." You plead, "I know we mean something to each other. I can feel it."

"We don't." She is short with you, but you're determined to get something out of her. Anything.

"Then at least tell me why you're helping me." You say as you follow her closely through the ship.

She sees that you're not going to give up and gives you the smallest bit she can in hopes of satiating your curiosity until you get to your destination. "It's for a friend I made a promise to a long time ago." She softens a bit at the thought. "When she was taken from me by a mad titan, I vowed to avenge her. With your help, your memories, I can."

Training is easier now that you have a sense of purpose and you understand Carol a tiny bit better. Not only are you doing this for yourself, you're doing it for Carol and the friend she lost. It feels like you're finding yourself even if she won't tell you anything.

"Can you tell me more about your friend?" You ask after a long sparring session a few weeks later as you lay across a chair exhausted.

She pauses for a moment, you think she's going to tell you it's none of your business but she starts to speak softly. "She was incredible. Her passion was unmatched. When she found something she thought was worth fighting for, worth believing in, she was all in." You see tears welling in her eyes as she stares down at the weapon she's polishing, "We fought together for so long until one day, she couldn't do it anymore."

She heads to the helm of the ship, signaling the end of the conversation. You mull her words over, try and think of anything you can say to ease her pain, but nothing you come up with feels right.

Her attitude has toward you hasn't changed, but you're hopeful that as soon as your memories are returned to you, you can mend relationship that you must have previously had.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You run over the plan in your head again and again as you approach the massive celestial severed head known as knowhere. It seems familiar but you gawk at the sight nonetheless, the juxtaposition of the skeletonized head among an interstellar cloud of gas, plasma, and dust amalgamating in a beautiful range of yellows, greens, and blues is breath taking.

The approach seems to take an eternity as nerves settle in your stomach. Carol is dressed in a disguise of sorts and you are cuffed. She places a key in your pocket to use later and you exit the ship. She puts on a show of shoving you forward towards the guard at the entrance of the collection causing you to stumble forward.

"Here for a bounty." She says curtly as she looks up at the towering being before her.

He speaks into a device on his wrist and the door opens, he nods and you make your way inside. The amount of items that surround you is staggering. Relics, Knick knacks, beings... You have a hard time picking just one thing to look at, you could spend years wandering the building and still not see everything.

Carol ignores the surrounding objects and heads straight for the lift. She doesn't speak to you the entire journey up until she notices you shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with your hands.

"Relax."

"I don't know if I'm -" your words are cut short by the doors opening. A man with a shock of white hair and heavy unblinking eyes stands before you. A small smile curls at the corner of his lips when he sees you.

"As agreed upon." He hands Carol payment and she returns to the lift. You stare back at her, mouth agape. This was not the plan. This was not a back up plan. She left you. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you try to subtly search your pocket for the cuff keys, but it's gone.

"You poor thing. You think she was going to follow through with whatever half baked scheme she used to lure you in? Bounty hunters can be awfully manipulative." He circles you, inspecting your body in the way one would with any number of the relics in his collection. "Bet she promised to help you get your life back." He says with a tap of his index finger to your temple.

The tears fall freely. You feel used. Anger builds in your chest until it bursts forth in a primal scream that threatens to rip your vocal cords to shreds as the collector chuckles behind you. He stands close behind you, you feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear.

"I can give those memories back," his voice is low, "work with me and you'll have your memories and anything else you could ever want."

"You took my them from me in the first place, why would you give them back?" You turn in place quickly to face him.

"You left before we could finish the job." He uncuffs you, "you see, you came to me. You wanted some of your memories removed." His hands cup your cheeks, "the machine malfunctioned and you ran away before we could do anything. Even without your powers you are strong." He presses his lips gently to yours and you recoil at his touch.

"You'll remember me soon enough."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Your eyes are held open by the machine, you feel it probe the pathways of your brain until it reaches its destination.

"We have to sort through some things my dear." You hear the voice of Taneleer Tivan echo in your head as flashes of images play in your mind.

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"That one looks like a cat!" You look to your left and see a young blonde girl beside you where you lay in a field of tall grass. Her arm is outstretched to the sky as she points to a particular cloud.

"I think it looks more like a goose!" You fall into a fit of giggles and the girl beside you joins in.

"Carol! Time for dinner!" She gets up with an overly dramatic sigh.

"Guess I gotta go, I'll see you tomorrow!"

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"Definitely don't need that one." Tivan's voice rings clearly as the memory fades to nothing.

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"What if they don't like me?" The same girl sits next to you on a bench outside your favorite ice cream shop. She's several years older, mid teens maybe, but it's unmistakably her.

"Impossible. They'd have to be stupid to not see how cool you are." She licks around the edges of the waffle cone as the icy treat starts to melt.

"I'm serious." You cast your eyes down.

Carol places a hand on yours and you feel your stomach flip as you look up at her, "They're gonna love you." Her words are soft, "Plus, maybe one day you can be one of the X-Men! Living in a mansion is also an added bonus." She laughs and your heart lightens. You're still nervous, but she's taken the edge off.

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"Useless."

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A flicker of several memories of Charles Xavier teaching you to hone your abilities fill your vision. He had a particular interest in you as you both share the same sorts of power, your time in the x-mansion was often spent with him.

"When an individual acquires great power, the use or misuse of that power is everything. Do not squander it. It is our birthright... Perhaps, our burden. With that power comes responsibility -- and also accountability." You're walking the grounds around the mansion with the professor, enjoying the beautiful weather. "This is only the first step on a long and difficult journey. Throughout your life, there is going to be a lot of people telling you not to be you. Don't let them tear you down. Don't compromise. You have the chance to become part of something much bigger than yourself. Right now you are in control of your destiny. You remember that."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I have a good feeling about those"

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"I'm so glad you came!" you greet Carol with a hug. You feel like it's been ages since you saw your best friend. You've only been away a few months since moving into the mansion, but not seeing her every day has been difficult.

You stand on a pier surrounded by carnival games and rides, the sea breeze tousles her hair around her face as the smell of funnel cake and popcorn invades your nostrils. You take her hand and run to the end of the pier where the sea lions lounge on the platforms below. You comment back and forth on the behavior of an especially rambunctious pup whose antics have left you both in a fit of giggles.

You've missed her smile, her laugh, everything about her. You feel the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach as you watch her lean her elbows on the wooden rails and smile down at the mammals below. The realization of what she truly means to you hits you like a freight train.

You are in love with your best friend.

"Promise me something Carol."

"Anything." Her eyes are bright as they look up to you.

"Best friends forever. No matter what. We'll always be there for each other." You hold your pinky out to solidify the pact and she wraps her pinky around yours.

"Always and forever."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Guess she lied. Let's get rid of that."

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Years later you are visiting home, It's your 18th birthday and you and Carol have spent the day celebrating with friends and family.

"I know the perfect way to end the day." She says as the last guest leaves. "Come on, let's go."

The pair of you hop in her truck and drive until you've hit a secluded hilltop away from the light pollution. You climb out and she hoists herself into the bed of the truck, extending her hand to help you do the same. As you climb in you step onto a mattress and Carol begins to pull pillows and blankets out of a duffle bag. Once the bed is all cozy you both lay down and look up at the stars.

"Happy birthday." She whispers as her hand grabs yours, intertwining your fingers together.

You feel a tingle of adoration spread through your body, a smile stretches across your lips. "Thank you."

Comfortable silence fills a chunk of time before Carol's voice finally breaks it. "I want you to read my mind."

The shock on your face is apparent, you've always made it a point to ensure that you don't invade the privacy of people's minds unless it's dire or they've given you permission, and Carol has never given you permission before. "Why now?"

"Just look, please." Her eyes show a mixture of fear and anticipation. Your eyes close and gently you probe her mind, she opens up to you and you feel love envelope you in a warm embrace, you feel the squeeze of her hand as her voice rings clear in your head. "I always thought what I had was just a childhood crush, but it never went away. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."

Your eyes snap open and you look to Carol, before you can register what's happening, tears fall from your eyes. It wasn't just you. She felt it too.

"Please say something." Her brow furrows with worry and you rush to answer her.

"Me too." You reach your free hand to cup her face, turning your body to face her, "Can I kiss you?" She nods and you lean into her. Your lips brush against hers softly before deepening the kiss. This is the happiest moment of your life.

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"Don't need this one."

You feel the machine trying to rip the memory back from your mind and you hold tight. Not this one. You want at least one reminder of the good before you see how things ended.

The machine doesn't seem to alert Tivan of the failure to remove it and he continues forward.

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Flashes of the next six years invade your mind, little moments spent with Carol when the two of you got any chance to. She had moved closer to you, but between your training to become a full member of the X-Men and her joining the air force to become a pilot you weren't able to spend as much time together as you would have liked.

You spoke on the phone nearly every day, a lot of happy meet ups and conversations took place, but the distance and time brought up plenty of arguments as well.

"We need to figure something out Carol. I love you more than anything, but we can't keep this up. We need to figure out where our lives are heading." You say exasperatedly over the phone.

"I know baby, but I need time to figure it out."

"We've had six years to figure it out, and every time I try and talk to you about how we can build a home for ourselves and be together, truly together, rather than this bullshit, you push it off. It's never the right time. Maybe it never will be..." You feel defeated.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know. I just can't keep waiting like this." You hang up the phone and sob. Did you just break up with her or give her an ultimatum? You aren't sure. Your mind is swimming, you go to bed and toss and turn all night thinking about the implications of the conversation.

The next few days you don't receive your usual call, but you don't worry. She's probably giving you space to cool off before you try and talk through it, maybe this time will be different.

On the fourth day one of your housemates calls you to the phone. Your nervous to hear what Carol has to say. You hope she's finally come up with some sort of plan, a timeline.

"Hello?"

The person on the other end confirms your identity before relaying the worst news of your life. She's gone. Killed in a test flight.

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"She spent years jerking you around and them poof, gone. We can keep this one."

He spends the next several hours sifting through the next ten years of your life. Becoming part of the X-Men and a teacher, dedicating your life to the kids you taught, nearly being killed, your slow decent into depression and fading of your faith in yourself, leaving the school to move back to your hometown only to work as a librarian.

He kept the memories he deemed necessary and removed everything else. You constantly felt like something was being ripped from your mind but you couldn't remember what.

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"I'd like to check this out." The voice is a familiar echo of your past as a book slams on the desk in front of you, you look up to see Carol, your lost love, not having aged at all. There's only one explanation.

"Mystique, I haven't worked with Charles in years, I don't have anything you want." You stare into her eyes coldly.

"What? It's me, really. Carol."

"You aren't very convincing, she's been dead for ten years. You should have picked someone else." You wave your hand in dismissal as you move towards your return cart.

"Look into my mind." She brings herself back into your sight around the desk.

You reach out and find that she's pushing forward her recollection of times you had spent with her in private, loving little moments, then the events of the last ten years, displaying them for you, trying to get you to understand what happened.

"Why did you wait 4 years after you found yourself again?" The pain in your voice as you stumbled through the words was clear.

"I was afraid. I spent days after our last conversation being mad until I realized I wasn't being fair to you. I planned to call you after the test flight... Then when I came back I saw that you were happy at the school and I didn't want to ruin that again."

"What were you going to say? After the flight." Your eyes fill with tears as old wounds reopen and tear at your insides.

"I wasn't sure at first." She whispers, "I was going to tell you to leave me, that I couldn't give you what you wanted or needed, but then when I thought about that as I took off on that flight. The world was a little dimmer, I couldn't see the beauty I usually saw from the cockpit. My dreams of flying didn't matter if I didn't have you."

You both stand still, eyes connected as tears trail down your faces. Her hand reaches for yours and you allow her to take it.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I just wanted you to know that, and maybe give you some sort of closure if you needed it." She drops your hand and turns to leave.

She's almost to the door when you call out to her. "Carol, wait!" Your body acts on its own and you run and jump into her arms, wrapping your legs around her hips as her hands land under your thighs to support you and you smash your lips against her in a frenzied kiss. Your love for Carol never faded, it was always there, this was like settling back into your own bed after a long trip away from home. A comforting warm embrace that felt safe.

You're both left panting when the kiss breaks and you rest your forehead against hers.

"Can I take you out?" Her smile beams wide and you nod.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Ah, this is a moment you told me about. When you look back on it you feel like a fool. You definitely don't want this."

It feels wrong, you fight to keep this too, but it slips through your grasp until you have no idea what it was you were trying to save.

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Another flood of memories, years of happiness at Carol's side as you fight against the evils of the universe. You have fights and disagreements just like before, but this time you're together through it all. It's not perfect, but you work through your problems together, until you can't.

In your time among the stars you start to feel jaded, the looming threat of the mad titan Thanos begins to weigh heavily on you. You watch as countless beings fall fighting beside you and Carol in the name of what's right.

"This universe is finite, its resources finite. If life is left unchecked, life will cease to exist. It needs correction. I know what it's like to lose. To feel so desperately that you're right, yet to fail nonetheless. It’s frightening." Thanos stands over the body of another friend he has slain in the name of his purpose as he speaks to you. "Help me end the suffering that plagues this place. Help me restore balance to the universe, a quest truly worthy of your talents."

He extends a hand to you, an open invitation to join his cause. You think back on every poverty stricken community you've encountered, every starving child, every avoidable tragedy, and you take his hand.

Carol finally catches up to you in this moment, you look back and see her face fall in confusion, "I'm sorry, I can't keep fighting the inevitable."

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The remainder of your memories that involve Carol are bitter, full of anguish. She treats you like any other enemy she's ever had, stoking the fire of your hatred for her.

Then something comes loose, a memory that was wiped before you met Tivan. Guilt shreds your insides as the image flashes through your mind. Years spent in service of Thanos to wipe out half the universe, killing in the name of his quest. It was never your intention.

You had just lost another friend in a battle to find Thanos. You lay on your back amidst the rubble and chaos after having defeated the last wave of Chitari, and you made a decision, you were done fighting a loosing battle, you had to do something to end this.

You formulated a plan then and there. The next time you met Thanos face to face you would get close enough to rip him apart with your mind, spread every molecule of his being across space and time until they are consumed by the heat of the stars and lost in black holes. This effort would certainly kill you, but you couldn't fight anymore. Not when people were dying left and right and there was seemingly no end in sight. You didn't tell Carol, you knew she would try and stop you. You didn't tell anyone. This was your burden to bear.

The thing you hadn't anticipated was the mind stone. You were so wrapped in grief and guilt you were short sighted. The second he touched your hand with the gauntlet your memory of the plan was gone. You were fully in his hold, a servant.

The machine begins to shake beneath you. Your eyes go white and you are no longer in control of your body. The straps and instruments that hold you down seem to disobey gravity as they disassemble themselves and float away. Your body rises in the air and a burst of energy flows from you, atomizing the machine beneath you and releasing every memory back to you.

The air crackles with telepathic energy as your mind searches for the collector, but he's no longer there. How long were you out of control? You reach out again to whoever is around, you sense a familiar presence, Carol.

Your eyes return to normal and you land with your feet firm on the floor, you are full of determination. You feel the suffering of countless beings in the building. Floor by floor you release them, taking out any guards or threats on your way. When you're halfway through you finally find Carol slumped over in a clear case amid other heroes that have gone missing across the universe. You release the others one by one and ask to probe their minds before unlocking the abilities that the collector had somehow managed to dampen.

When you make it to Carol's case you sit on the ground next to her and pull her into your lap, gently you push the hair from her face. She barely stirs before her hands are around your neck, she's weak but you don't fight when she pushes into you, your back pressed against the ground as she straddles you.

"It's okay. I deserve it." You choke out through tears. You reach into her mind and unlock her powers without probing further.

"What are you doing?" She screams in frustration.

"You need your abilities to rescue everyone else. Please Carol, just do it." You sob, you don't fight her in the slightest. "I can't live with what I've done, I don't want to."

The pressure at your throat increases until your vision darkens around the edges.

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"It's too dangerous Carol!" You hear Shuri's voice in the distance.

"I need to know more. I need to understand what the hell happened in there. She wanted me to kill her." She whisper shouts.

"You were supposed to make sure she didn't get anything back, she's dangerous. You know that better than anyone else."

Carol sighs heavily, "That's why I'm taking her to a deserted planet. Once we have our feet on the ground I'll send the ship back into orbit. If something happens to me, at least she won't be able to hurt anyone else."

You don't hear the rest of the conversation as the crushing weight of your reality bares down on your chest until you struggle to breathe. Your eyes are fixed to the ceiling above you, but you see nothing. Your mind fogs up until your eyes loose focus and your thoughts vacate your mind.

You feel the ship land and Carol snaps you out of your trance, guiding you out of the ship before you watch it rise back into the air and disappear from sight.

You're in the middle of a field of tall grass, much like the one you and Carol played in as kids, this would be a good place to go. You sink to your knees before the love of your life and wait for her to speak.

"What happened to you?" She whispers, her voice full of emotion.

"I just wanted everything to stop. I didn't want to keep watching our friends and family suffering needlessly in a war that we were loosing in." Your eyes latch onto hers, "I was going to kill him myself, even if it meant I would die in the process. I didn't want to tell you, I knew you'd try and stop me."

You could see a shift in her gaze, understanding blooms in her features and you know she believes you, but the anger is still there.

"You killed for him."

"I was so wrapped up in my plan that I didn't think about the mind stone." You hang your head in shame. "I fucked up. I don't deserve mercy, I don't deserve to live. I let my emotions drive me to the point of endangering countless lives."

When you look up, she's gone. Her silhouette disappearing into the purple sky. You fall back into the grass and watch the sky change with the fading light of the sun as it dips below the horizon. You lay unmoving until exhaustion overtakes you and your eyes close.

Your sleep is fitful, nightmares of everything you'd done since joining Thanos plagues your vision. The face of every person you ever hurt flips through your mind like a photo album. You know you were manipulated, but the pain of your actions consumes you. The gnawing guilt is more than you can take, you don't want to wait for Carol to possibly return to put you out of your misery.

You rise from the ground and take flight into the dawn, you want to see something beautiful. You fly over the surface of the planet taking in its lush beauty. You make it to the Mountains taller than you've ever seen, dense forests with trees of colors you can't begin to describe, a bright sea with beaches of white sands.

When you're finally ready you shoot through the atmosphere as fast as your abilities will carry you. Your breathing becomes laboured as you break through the last layer, the icy chill of space envelopes you and your last thought of Carol's face.

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They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, but this memory is only vaguely familiar to you. You lay in the recovery room in the X-mansion, but you can't place when. Your eyes adjust to the brightness of the room and next to you a figure sits with her head in her hands.

"Carol." Your voice is weak, barely a whisper.

Her head shoots up, tears in her eyes as one of her hands desperately clasps onto yours and the other clasps your cheek.

"There you are."

[delyth88]

Here's a little from my WIP. I sat down to write an entirely different scene and then got carried away with this flashback. Enjoy!

Loki exited the airlock, his clothing covered in dirt and blood, a cut on his left cheek already beginning to heal. Some of the other participants in this latest advance jostled past him as they hurried out. Loki walked more slowly. His boots felt heavier than usual and his mind was occupied by the success of the mission.

It shouldn’t have been a success, given how he had performed. It was his first command true, but he expected more of himself. He needed to be more. Thanos would certainly expect more, and settle for nothing less. That one of the others had had to step in and ensure everything went to plan was an excruciating embarrassment. He would have to work hard to regain his standing in his leader’s eyes, he knew that, but it would be hard, and a little part of him that he had thought long excised was not sure he should.

He carried on, following behind the last of the group to exit the shuttle. Some shouted excitedly to each other as they went, high on the rush of a successful mission. Others kept silent. They clattered through the corridors of Sanctuary until they came to the main staging area, when even the talkative hushed. Fear silenced most people, Loki had found.

Thanos was waiting for them. He towered over most of the people in the room, including his main lieutenant, who shadowed him, his sickly white skin glowing under the dim lights of the hangar. They entered silently and formed up into several rows as was the usual practice, and Loki as the commander of this mission, made his way to the front. He stood, waiting for permission to speak. Thanos waited till everyone was standing in their place and then surveyed the group. He watched silently until even the newest members were rooted to the spot. This was not going to be a pleasant debrief.

When he nodded to Loki, Loki gave a brief account of the mission and its results. The force had been successful in rooting out the last remaining population that had gone into hiding on Safalna III. The cull of this group now completed the salvation of the planet, and they would be able to leave orbit shortly. Thanos nodded and addressed the rows of mismatched fighters.

“Your work today has brought balance to Safalna. It is a hard task but one that will give them hope. Hope of life and a future of bounty."

Some of the fighters raised their heads high at this and basked in the praise. Others shuffled their feet and waited until the moment they were released. Loki waited knowing there would be repercussions for his inaction, though how that hammer would fall was difficult to predict.

Thanos finished his speech of praise and thanks and dismissed the group. Several breathed a sigh of relief as they left. As Loki turned to leave the Other appeared at his side and motioned him to remain. As the room emptied out Thanos bent low to look Loki in the eye and said in a soft voice tinged with sympathy that belied the force that he was and the driving rage behind his soft facade, “I believe you left something out of your account today, my little prince.”

Loki was rooted to the spot. He'd heard of the punishments Thanos had meted out to other unlucky commanders when he was not pleased by their work. Most of it painful. All of it terrifying. His mind racing he extemporised, “Mighty Thanos, if I might be allowed a moment to explain…”.

Thanos closed his eyes and shook his head sadly, a father disappointed in a child for lying. Loki closed his mouth. Words would be no use here.

“My little prince”, Thanos said drawing out the syllables, “Your lack of conviction is disappointing. I had high hopes for you, but it seems I overestimated both your physical prowess”, he said, indicating the cut on Loki’s cheek, “and your mental fortitude. You delayed giving the order and this allowed some of the population to fight back and caused the death of several of your commrades.”

Loki couldn’t argue. He had delayed. He hadn’t consciously done so, but when faced with several thousand huddled and frightened people he’d found it difficult to reconcile their scared tear-streaked faces with the need for balance. Surely these few could remain. He’d paused, they weren’t fighting back, they seemed to have lost all spirit and huddled together in groups, sad eyes watching him. Silently pleading with him to let them simply live. They didn’t want more from him than that. Just to let them be.

Evidently he’d stood too long like this, because suddenly a small group attacked them from behind and the fighting began. Well trained as Loki’s force was, this was swiftly brought under control, but at the cost of three of their lives, and many others of the survivors from Salfana III. Loki gave the command then, and his force divided the group into two and bestowed balance upon them. They left to the sound of children crying while adults tried to hush them.

“There must be consequences for your actions, as there must be balance in all things”, Thanos said, “and I have something that will ease your mind.”

He held out his arm and the Other placed in it a long golden sceptre with a glowing blue stone set into a blade at the end. Loki couldn’t move, nor speak. He feared making things worse and somehow further angering Thanos. So he held his ground with the dignity of a prince, falling back on the habits ingrained into him as a child. Thanos raised the sceptre and then placed the tip against Loki’s chest.

“Be at peace my child”, Thanos intoned.

The blue stone flared to life and Loki felt the immense power contained within it. It flowed into him seeping into every part of his body and mind, settling with a comforting warmth in his belly. A spike of fear settled quickly and left behind only a driving energy to do what was needed, and a certainty that this was what he was born for. He had finally found his purpose in life.

***

I'm not exactly certain what Loki's precise agreement with Thanos is here, but I think he's been drawn into his orbit after his fall and is now feeling out of his depth and finding his anger and pain can't fuel him quite far enough to go as full genocidal madman as Thanos is.

Tagging a few folk who I think might be interested. Please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged, or if you're not and would like to be.

@cailjei @sparklegemstone @scifikimmi @pinkpondofasgard @michaelseagal

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

[aeterna-auroral-avenger]

Avengers: Infinity's End

Two chapters today, gang, because the first is short, and I have little patience to share something I'm proud of LOL

Chapter 13 - The Hulk in Shirts [AO3 link]

Summary: Tony needs to rest, and Rory needs a team. So Rory decides to seek out another big brain to help in the operation. And she's surprised to find big brain and big brawn have turned into a more complete package deal.

Chapter 14 - They're Still Out There

Summary: The Guardians may have found where Thanos has been hiding, and a key detail has been revealed. Because of this detail, a particular heist idea is shut down by Rory herself. And it kills her to do it too.

[it-meant-nothing]

The (multiverse) Maximoff twins kicking the ass of the big bad villain but getting defeated afterward

Back when Wanda was still very nice… and Peter had a lot of scenes 🤧

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Proof that I'm a forever ride-or-die MCU Stephen Strange Stan ~

My first thought when learning of the return of RDJ to the MCU was: WHAT ABOUT DOCTOR STRANGE??? Isn't he closely tied to Doom as adversaries in the comics? Why wasn't he mentioned in connection to Avengers: Doomsday? Has Feige/et al, decided Stephen has no further value to the MCU?

Second thought? FU Feige/Waldron/et al.

[mrspasser]

After the snap - chapter 1 - Sterek fanfic

Another fic from a while back that didn't get put on Tumblr. Well, it's here now. Please keep some tissues nearby, I'm told they're needed.

The werewolf across from her shifts in his seat. It's always a bit like pulling teeth with him, getting him to share his thoughts. At first, she was convinced he would give up on therapy. Truthfully, even after almost four years of it she still wonders every now and then if he would just stop showing up some day. Yet, he keeps coming to their weekly appointments. They're short, only thirty minutes, and sometimes no more than ten words come out of her client. However, she has learned to listen to what isn't being said, to read between the lines. It’s how she knows that getting therapy is a promise he made to someone important, before The Snap.

Find it on A03 and Wattpad

After the snap - Chapter 1

Melody Brooks looks over her schedule for the day. She has five clients today. Two in the morning, two in the afternoon and one in her evening slot. After that, she has a short session with her colleague, to evaluate their day. Or, to just unload all the worries her clients have bestowed upon her that day. It's not unusual for them to do it over a glass of Bordeaux, after all, they're just human. As are all of her clients too, even though some of them are a little more than human.

It's something the world learned after The Snap, or The Blip, the euphemisms used to describe the annihilation of half the people on the planet. Most churches stopped using the phrase "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" after that catastrophic day, as it was too painful for their congregation to hear. Melody tries to see the irony in that, believing that humor can be a healthy coping mechanism when deployed appropriately. It's one way to deal with it, as there are many ways, not all of them healthy or right. Still, each person has a right to deal with it in their own way, to act as they see fit. She is just there to help them along the way, if they want her to.

The people suffered from the loss of their loved ones, some to the point of being no longer able to deal with those losses. Suicide rates had gone up after that day, and now, almost five years later, they're still higher than before. Melody lost clients, some of them even after years of therapy. Others, she was able to help pick up their lives again, to live on with the memories. Everyone's progress is different, some are faster than others. And with some, the pace is glacial. 

"So, Derek, tell me. What's new this week?"

The werewolf across from her shifts in his seat. It's always a bit like pulling teeth with him, getting him to share his thoughts. At first, she was convinced he would give up on therapy. Truthfully, even after almost four years of it she still wonders every now and then if he would just stop showing up some day. Yet, he keeps coming to their weekly appointments. They're short, only thirty minutes, and sometimes no more than ten words come out of her client. However, she has learned to listen to what isn't being said, to read between the lines. It’s how she knows that getting therapy is a promise he made to someone important, before The Snap.

"The old fox burrow is in use again," he says, his gaze locked on the coffee table between them.

"Oh? Just one fox? Or a family?" Melody actually quite likes the information Derek Hale shares with her about the animal life in the Preserve that surrounds most of Beacon Hills. With his heightened senses the werewolf can discern more than others. It's his job too, he's been a park ranger for two years now. Getting the job was cause for celebration, to her surprise the man had even hugged her, momentarily overwhelmed by emotions.

"Two. I think there'll be a family soon." He smiles a little then, looking up from the table. The Snap had affected all living creatures, animals and man alike. To see nature finding its way again is important beyond measure.

"That's good news!" Melody acknowledges, before moving on to a new subject. "Did your shipment of timber come in yet?"

Derek nods. “Not all of it, but the large beams are there, so I can start on the framework.”

In the past two years, the werewolf had torn down the charred remains of his old family home in the Preserve bit by bit, meaning to build a new house in its place. Melody had once happened upon the old house when hiking the trails. She was not a native to Beacon Hills, but her friend was, and he had told her about the Hales and the tragedy of the fire that took the lives of most of the family. Of course there was more to that story than the average townspeople knew, as it all happened before people were privy to the existence of werewolves and other supernatural creatures. 

The alien invasion in New York proved that they were not alone in the universe. And after The Snap, people discovered mankind wasn’t alone on Earth either. Or rather, that mankind was more diverse than they’d all thought. And The Snap had affected everybody. Werewolves without pack, witches without their coven, forests that were suddenly bereft of their protecting druids, the list went on and on. One good thing that came out of The Snap was that mankind bonded together, reaching out to the people that remained. And, to some people’s surprise or even anger, that bond also extended to the people that were a little more than human. People were so happy to see their neighbour survive that they didn’t even care that their neighbour went furry each full moon. Melody’s parents, who had both miraculously survived that dreadful day, discovered that their neighbour from across the street was a druid. Her father just said it explained a lot about why Ted’s rose bushes were always the first to blossom. 

Derek is more at ease with the older man than with the younger, she knows they get together a couple of nights a week, drinking beer and playing cards, or watching a game. She has met the sheriff a couple of times and admires him strongly. He lost his son in The Snap, a boy in his early twenties, and most of his deputies. However, out of a strong sense of community, the sheriff kept on going. It is mainly thanks to him that the town pulled through the way they did. 

Besides a werewolf, Melody also has a witch as a client. William Johnson is the retired head of the local elementary school, always dressed in a sweater vest, with his dark, bald head shining like a bowling ball. He was one of the most positive people she’d ever met, but he’d lost his wife and almost his whole coven in The Snap, and that was more than enough to rattle a man.

Derek Hale also lost his people, his pack. For the second time, as it turned out. The man had experienced trauma upon trauma and he was most certainly not ready to rehash all that. So they work on the little things, on moving forward, one step at a time, to keep on living. He is not totally alone, that helps a little. There is another werewolf, an Alpha like him, and there is a human, the father of one of his lost packmates. The three of them have formed a new, makeshift pack, even though a pack usually has only one Alpha. Melody knows the new house will have rooms for them, even though they don’t live together now and maybe never will. 

After Derek has told her about his work on the house, she asks about his pack. “How’s Scott? Did you talk to him this week?”

Over the years Melody has learned that Stiles, the sheriff’s son, held an important place in Derek’s life. There were Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Jackson, all connected to him through the bond between Alpha and Beta. There was Scott, who was a rather reluctant member of Derek’s pack, which explained their rocky relationship in the present. And there was Stiles, not a werewolf, yet maybe the most loyal member of Derek’s pack nonetheless. Of the pack only Scott remained. At first there was Scott’s girlfriend too, but she had moved away with her family to Europe after The Snap and Derek had mentioned them breaking up not long after.

Derek scoffs quietly. He doesn’t always see eye to eye with the other werewolf and they often have little spats because of it. At first, Derek was bottling everything up inside, afraid to lose yet another pack member. In time, he’s learned that he wouldn’t lose his friend just because they argued. It is slow learning, heavily influenced by past experiences. He had to learn that he was not the only one that needed the other, that his friend would never truly leave him, even though they might not speak for a couple of days because emotions ran high between them. 

“It was different… with Stiles,” Derek had once said in one of his rare moments of transparency. “We argued all the time, but he always stayed, even when I didn’t want him to.” A wistful smile had crossed his face. “He was always there.” For me , was left unsaid but still heard.

“Scott has been doing that speed-date thing again,” Derek answers after a short pause. “He wanted me to come too.”

“It could be nice, meeting new people?” Melody knows to tread lightly when it comes to this subject. There are names in Derek’s past, Kate or Jennifer for instance, that have done a lot of damage. And there is one name he still holds on to, long after his disappearance.

“I don’t need to sit down at a table to do that.” It sounds bitter and Melody knows the reason behind that. Derek is a handsome man, beautiful to most standards, even with the white hairs that have appeared in his short beard. It’s a face that makes people look twice, even though most days he doesn’t carry the most friendly expression. It’s a face that makes people approach him, has women - and some men - give him their number or outright proposition him. 

“People at a speed-date event tend to be looking for a relationship instead of a one night stand. It wouldn’t be the same.”

“Don’t care.” With that, Derek closes off again. Melody makes a soft sound of acknowledgement, knowing the werewolf can hear her. She’s not judging and Derek knows that by now. It’s another thing he’s learned. 

“It’s almost time,” she says, closing her notebook. “Will I see you next week?”

Derek nods, getting up from his chair. “I’ll be here.”

***

“Thanks, son,” Noah says as he takes the beer from Derek. “God knows I could use a cold one after the day I've had.” He has been out and about all day in the California summer. He’s grateful that Derek’s loft is nice and cool, partially thanks to the dark curtains in front of the large window. 

“Dinner’s ready in twenty,” the werewolf informs him, taking a seat at the kitchen table across from him. They always sit here when they’re in the loft; they have their own seats, their own routines. Derek’s kitchen table is a comfortable place to be. The table is handcrafted from wood from the Preserve, made by Derek himself. The chairs are a fairly recent addition to the loft; comfortable seats that invite you to sit in them for long nights filled with good food and interesting conversation. 

“Smells good already.” Noah takes a long drink from his beer, washing away the dust from the day. He’d spent most of the afternoon directing traffic, when a truck with live cattle went off the road. Only one of the cows was hurt bad enough that they had to put her down, the others came away with minor scratches and a good scare. At his age he wasn’t going to run after escaped cows anymore, he’d left that to his young deputies and had taken it upon himself to direct traffic around the area of the crash. He likes doing that, most of the people waving a hello at him when they move past him.

“I used one of Claudia’s recipes,” Derek says, drinking from his own beer.

“The beef casserole,” Noah nods, “I already thought it smelled familiar.” Between the two of them Derek is the best cook; Claudia’s recipe books are in good hands with him.

In the comfortable silence that follows Noah looks idly around the room. Over the years the loft has become more homey, with Derek adding furniture, carpets and drapes to the industrial open space. He knows a lot of it was Stiles' idea, his son urging his Alpha to make a more permanent home for himself. Stiles hasn't been around to see how much of his suggestions Derek has actually followed, with most of it happening after that disastrous day that cut down the world's population by half. Still, it warms Noah's heart to see what Derek did - and still does - to keep the memory of his pack, and Stiles foremost, alive. 

One of the walls is covered in photographs, most of them taken from the phones of the kids. Stiles is in a lot of those photos, often smiling. There is one picture that he loves best, one that was taken without Stiles knowing. If he remembers correctly, it was Erica who took it. She was responsible for the lion's share of the pictures on the wall, on account of her always taking pictures with her phone. In the photograph Stiles and Derek are sagged out on the sofa, sitting shoulder to shoulder and both with their socked feet up on the coffee table. Stiles is throwing up a piece of popcorn and Derek is tracking it through the air with his eyes, his mouth already partially opened to catch it. In the corner of the photograph is Lydia, her bare feet wedged underneath Stiles' thigh. She is watching the tv outside of the frame, snuggled comfortably underneath Jackson's arm - the only part of him that is visible in this particular photo. Noah loves how relaxed they all are in the picture, the way you can see how close they all are. 

Just one of the kids in that photo survived. The sofa is still here too, yet nobody sits on it anymore. Scott has urged Derek more than once to get rid of it, to get rid of the painful memories it contains. Derek refuses, a recurring point of strife between the two werewolves. 

***

The sofa is a silent memorial to those who were lost, sitting smack dab in the middle of the Alpha's living room. Stiles was sitting there when he turned to dust, visiting Derek during his break from college. Derek had just gotten up to make them coffee when it happened, his claws raking through dusty flakes a moment later. Noah had covered the desperate claw marks with a throw spread that had been in Stiles' dorm room, something that Derek allowed only because it smelled like Stiles.

Maybe it isn't healthy for Derek to have such a monument in his living room, to hold on to the sliver of hope that they would return some day; to think that there would be a day that Stiles would sit there again, throwing up popcorn for Derek to catch. Maybe it is unfair of Noah to like that Derek keeps the sofa untouched and waiting. Maybe. But Noah will never be the one to take it away.

"That's good. She sounds nice," Allison says in her soft voice. "How's Derek? And Noah?"

Allison smiles at him from the screen, her cheeks dimpling in that familiar way he loves. It used to ache to see her, but not anymore. They are in a different place now, one where they can be friends and look back fondly upon the time they had together. 

Scott tells her about the date he had with the girl he met at the speed dating event the week before. They'd gone out for coffee, to get to know each other.  "I was the first werewolf she ever met, but she seems cool with it. I think I'm gonna see her again."

"The sheriff's been well. Still not thinking about retirement though." Scott grimaces a little. Noah isn't getting any younger, but he doesn't want to hear of stopping. "Derek is… well, Derek." He shrugs. "We've got most of the framework up for the new house. You can really start to see how it'll be when it's finished. You should visit us when the house is done, we'll have a housewarming party or something!"

“What?” Scott is a little confused. Just a moment ago Allison was talking about the representation of supernatural entities in the government of the European Union, and now he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “What are you on about, Ally?”

"You know what, I think I will!" Allison smiles jovially and continues by telling what she and her father have been up to in Europe. They have ties with what remains of The Avengers, the supernatural branch of it at least. Scott doesn't really know much about it. On the one hand Allison doesn't tell him much - or isn't allowed to tell. And on the other hand it's something that Scott doesn't want anything to do with. What happened in The Blip was horrible. He lost his mother, his best friend and many other friends and family members. But it also brought good things. He feels as if the world is closer knit together than before. He doesn't have to hide his supernatural side anymore. So he tries to look forward, to see the good things. There is nothing to be gained from getting stuck in the past.

“Things are happening, Scott. I can’t tell you about it, hell, I don’t even know much about it myself, but there is something!”

“Thanos! There might be a way to defeat Thanos!”

Scott frowns. “I thought he was gone? Like, gone off to some far away planet where nobody can find him?” It had taken him some time, but eventually he’d accepted that Thanos was in a whole other league than their usual monster of the week . There were other people to deal with him; real life superheroes, who had gadgets and weapons and who worked with the U.S. government. Sure, he wanted to kick Thanos’ ass just as much as every other human being on this planet. But he couldn’t, being a werewolf did not make him a match for the Titan, far from it. And besides, he wouldn’t even know where his ass was to begin to kick it.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there might be a way!”

***

It happened on a monday, May 21 in 2018. The date is engraved in Derek’s memory, like the day his family’s house burned down or the day Laura died. It’s the day he lost his family for the second time. 

It happens on a normal weekday in October, 2023. Derek is sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying a cup of tea after dinner. He’s reading an old novel, one from the James Bond series that his father used to love. Derek has seen most of the movies, the newer ones at least, and he rather enjoys the novels too. 

The sound from the street reaches him first. The building his loft is in used to be abandoned and run down, but it was the first project he undertook when his life settled somewhat. Now, all the apartments are lived in and the street sees some light traffic. It’s a quiet street, yet outside there’s the sound of screeching tires, followed by confused shouts. Derek rushes towards the window, looking down at the dark street. There’s a car shoved halfway up the sidewalk, the driver’s door open, with the driver shouting at a person who is standing in the middle of the street. The person, a man dressed in stained overalls, is looking around himself in a dazed way. He clearly doesn’t know what’s happening.

Derek is about to dismiss him as a drunk, when there’s a small noise behind him. Something like the wind blowing through the leaves, only there is no wind and there are no leaves. 

“D… Derek?”

His heart falls through his stomach and his knees buckle in the same moment. Derek crashes to the floor, his eyes locked on the phantom vision in the middle of his living room. There, on the sofa, dressed in the grey University of Berkeley hoodie he was wearing when he disappeared, is Stiles.

The young man makes a noise of distress when Derek hits the floor and rushes over to him. The hands that grab his shoulders feel real, solid. 

Change washes over him involuntarily, his fangs lengthening, his nails sharpening and his vision washing red. But the man at his side is not deterred. “Derek? What’s happening? Derek?”

He grabs the grey hoodie with both hands, his claws piercing the fabric. “You’re not real,” he wrings out of his closed up throat. “You, you can’t be.”

Yet everything is telling him the boy is real. His hands are firm and warm. His breath is coming rapidly, his heart beating even faster. The hands close around his wrists, holding them but not pulling them away. “Derek? What is this?”

The werewolf sags against the boy, burying his face against his chest. Stiles barely manages to stay upright, catching him in a tangle of limbs. “You’re here,” Derek says breathlessly, “you’re here, you’re here.”

“I am,” Stiles answers, voice wobbling slightly. He wraps his arms around Derek’s shoulders, holding him against him. “I’m here.”

Derek can’t say how long they are sitting there like that. At some point Stiles pokes and prods them into a different position, complaining about pins and needles in his leg, but they keep holding each other. He has his face buried in Stiles’ neck, breathing his scent in over and over, to keep reminding himself that apparently this is real. Stiles is really here. 

When his phone rings in his pocket, he knows it’s Noah. It’s the only reason he picks up, the only reason he takes one hand off Stiles to take his phone out of his pocket. 

“Derek?” The sheriff sounds like the way Derek feels. “Is he…?”

“Yes,” Derek croaks. “He is.”

“At the loft?”

“Yes.” It’s all Derek can get out.

“I’m coming.”

Derek puts the phone away. From this close, Stiles was able to hear the conversation even without werewolf hearing. He doesn’t need to repeat it for him. Couldn’t, even if he tried. He doesn’t have the voice for it.

Stiles doesn’t ask for it either. Doesn’t ask whether that was his father on the phone. He just lets Derek burrow back against him, keeping him as close as Derek does him. 

“Huh,” Stiles says after a moment, his fingers scratching idly in the short hairs on Derek’s nape. “You put up curtains.”

Chapter 2

[emmylubooks]

Why aren’t there more Alex Walter fanfics. I had this issue with TSITP and Cam Cameron too. I just want to read more of their stories

Read the tags

[gothicscorpiohub]

Lost You–2

Genre: Thriller–Romantic

Pairing: Marvel Loki x Reader

Overview: As soon as Loki acknowledges the arrival of Thanos, the first thing in his mind was to secure the precious possession, his wife Y/n. The things however don't work out as per the expectations. Would the love of theirs survive after the predicted death of Loki? Did he survived? How?

Part 1:

He was here

Thanos,

To take the tesseract,

To engulf them all in his cruel tactical plan,

Thanos was here,

To initiate the war.

To kill them all

Before proceeding to take further actions, Loki teleported his way to the chamber he and y/n shared to examine Y/n's security, to bound her safely in the room. Opening the door, he was met with the beautiful serenity of his wife.

She sat comfortably on the couch, with her back arched upon the cushioned backboard, her swollen feet were kept on the empty table to seek some rest from the constant uneasiness caused due to pregnancy, on her lap were the remainder of the food packages Loki kept for her, the swollen belly of hers was being caressed softly by her hand, a mild serene smile plastered on her face.

Loki's heart fluttered from the sight of Y/n who, no matter what, would never leave his side. He can't imagine how could anyone go through these severe situations and that too during pregnancy and not uttering a word for complain.

All the knowledge he acquired through the books indicated the increased level of anxiousness in the lady but he incredibly admired how his wife handled the toughest of the hard situations this smoothly. He has never heard a single complain from her side and he'll not be wrong to admit him been yearning for her to show her mood swings out rather than complying them herself.

He didn't knew what he did to deserve such a beautiful, talented, fierce socceress as his wife and the mother of his child. He wondered how witty would their offspring be

Noticing him, Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed the slightest "What's wrong?" She asked right away. No matter how hard Loki tried to convince his expression, she always picks right on him. "Nothing darling, just a minor velocity change of the ship. Stay here until it's practicing normal speed." He tried to lie swiftly, not being the God of Mischief for nothing. Standing up, she quirked her eyebrows, clearly annoyed with her husband lying to her.

"Loki, you brought tesseract with you." She quietly spoke, advancing to him for a clear conversation, placing a hand on her womb, as if supporting herself against the pain. Loki wanted nothing other than his urge to hug her and soothe her pain, only if the circumstances granted him so.

"What do you mean darling?" He tried to sound as confident as he can, but standing before her to lie wasn't any easily appealing task, his insides were rippling with anxiety. He didn't had much time, he has to secure her room and has to face Thanos.

"Lie as much you want, husband" she said weakly annoyed, turning around. She never appreciated him lying to her, it's always when she grasps his lies within a second of him using his silver tongue, but that always leads her being insecurely disappointed. Loki knows perfectly how hurt she gets when he, of all, isn't honest to her. It truly breaks Loki's heart just as much to lie to her.

"Make sure he'll never be around."she added quietly before ascending towards the washroom, leaving Loki speechless.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Anxiety was coursing through his veins, mind running through several scenarios to tact them all out the reach of Thanos. His brain was throbbing with unexplainable intensity, his heart beating at such a pace he never it is capable of.

Thor's head was held captive by the enormous hand of Thanos. His witchy companion was speaking something regarding mercy they were doing on the Asgardians but Loki wasn't keeping up with any word, desperately running through the tricks he could use at the situation.

"– I'm sure you have a preference." Thanos said, smiling devilishly.

"Oh I do, kill him." Loki said, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could. Thanos's grip on his brother's head tightened as such that Thor seemed on the urge of bursting through his skull, his loud whimpers echoing through the destroyed walls of the room.

"Alright, stop." Loki bellowed.

An uncomfortably fuzzy blanket seemed to cover his brain, as if he wasn't controlling it, someone else was in control of him. Loki is known to these tricks and henceforth is completely aware to button the feelings.

Drawing a dagger at his side, conceiving it from as many eyes as he may, he advanced to Thanos, conjuring the glowing, icy blue tesseract in his hands. Thanos's gaze seemed to penetrate Loki's. He knew well the Mischief God, and which was what scared Loki.

With a swift motion, Loki swayed his dagger up at Thanos's neck utilising all the might he could afford at such unforeseen circumstance. His heart was caught in his mouth, skipped several beats once he felt his wrist stopping mere inch away from its target. Noting the situation briefly, with a jerk his insides warned him about the regretful stunt he had done, a large, beefy, uncomfortable lump seeped to block his oesophagus.

His hand was bound to stop in its movement of intended murder of a Titan with a small dagger, with the seidr of the infinity stone. Not a moment he had to process himself being pulled up by Thanos's big purple hand, wrapped around Loki's neck tightly, coiling around his neck tighter with every fraction of a second passing. Loki's vision started blurring out, the surroundings started to become more and more foggy, with a dizzying nausea coiling inside, his senses were going numb and before blacking out completely, the last thing that crossed the barrier of his numbness was a sharp stinging pain in his lower abdomen.

It's around 12 and yeah I wasn't able to draft this more appropriately. Let me know if you want another sequel.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 3:

P.S. : consider me as your friend and you may always talk to me even if you're not suffering from depression and anxiousness, certain things are even worse.

I've been considered confidential hooman whole a lot. I won't judge.

Anyways, 3rd part is out!!!

[jay--o]

Thanos gets left on a remote planet

Some time later a ship full of refugees from a neighboring solar system land o the planet

At first he avoids them, there are rumors of a giant purple guy in the woods

He has been alone for so long, he misses his family, has had time to contemplate why in the world they would spare him

He's been changing

Eventually he gets injured, badly, he can't get home, maybe he thinks this is it, the end he deserves, but, a hunting party/group of kids/foraging group, finds him, they take him back to the village

The village works together to help this stranger

He doesn't speak, doesn't have the strength to resist their kindness either, doesn't know if he could bring himself too, he knows he should, that he doesn't deserve their help

He agrees to help out around the village to pay them back for their kindness

He's big and he's strong and the people appreciate his help, try to get to know him and befriend him

He's damn tempted but tries to keep his distance, without being rude ofcourse, he's done enough harm

A cute scene where he helps teach a kid something

A girl, a love, her family welcoming him with open arms, shaking and crying as he confesses to her what he's done, who he's been, she still loves him, now, he can still deserve happiness

Children, a house and home, friends and neighbors, and nights out and laughter and joy

After years of healing, living, and loving

His past comes calling

The avengers have a problem, he has knowledge no one else does

They come expecting a fight, probably to finish him off for good after this

But they find the village, a couple of kids show him where to find the big purple man

The avengers have no idea what's happening, they're offered tea

[the-multiversal-malevolence-blog]

Translation: Hello everyone, you all know me, after my defeat with Jerkules. I gotten ill after I got out of the River of Souls, boy it took 2 hours for me to get out, and I found out about the Multiverses and there’s a lot of heroes and villains. So I thought, why not unite some baddies to conquer our worlds and the Multiverses, and have REVENGE? So…. I need you all to decide which 6 villains should be invited? First I need a second in command, and while I am hatching for my new conquering plan, you all go decide one of these candidates and the one with the most votes shall be my second in command.