legacy ,

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆     —     I DID THE BEST I COULD *   intro  .  stats  .  img  .  mus  .  pinterest  .

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊     —     HE BELIEVES IN THE FUTURE *   intro  .  stats  .  img  .  mus  .  pinterest  .

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒     —     ALL YOU ARE IS RUTHLESS *   intro  .  stats  .  img  .  mus  .  pinterest  .

( @latverionstarters​ ) ROCKET RACCOON & ANYONE !

sure, he’d been observing them for awhile while being nestled up behind a few cargo boxes and pretending to read a file on astrophysics. was it a crime to follow people and observe whatever it was that they was doing? he didn’t think so. groot was back on the guardian’s ship so that meant that whatever he was doing was going to be well-spent. that and the person who he was following had what looked like something shiny. before he could slink off and find another angle, however, rocket’s foot slipped and he ended up tripping and spilling out from the cargo - his entire form and the article splayed out onto the ground with him looking up into the face of the person he was following. “uh…” he paused and then pulled a full-toothed smile, “i was just admirin’ the boxes? what? you can’t prove anything - how much for the shiny thing?”

her  eyebrow  quirks  upward  in  an  expression  that’s  largely  amusement.  he  couldn’t  look  more  guilty  if  he  was  actively  making  attempts,  cassie’s  sure  of  this,  but  she’s  also  not  in  the  business  of  holding  snooping  around  against  anyone  unless  she  has  a  very  good  reason.  it’s  not  like  she  was  doing  anything  nefarious,  anyway,  they’re  her  shiny  things.  ❛   not  for  sale,  sorry  to  disappoint.   ❜  small,  but  shiny  she  can’t  deny.  discs  that  fit,  stacked,  in  the  palm  of  her  hand.  she  wasn’t  planning  on  proving  anything,  but  she  doubts  anyone  who’s  ever  heard  of  rocket  by  even  word  of  mouth  would  doubt  that  he  was  scouting  around  for  anything  valuable  if  she’d  wanted  to.  ❛   do  you  even  know  what  they  are  ?   ❜

@ormenace​ | steve rogers + tony stark

Ankle-biting gremlins. Yeehaw zombies. A megalomaniacal self-proclaimed emperor. Sure, why not. He’d seen weirder. Hell, he was weirder, if he really wanted to get into it. Latverion set his teeth on edge, but something about it–he’d done this before. Woken up a lifetime, a world away from what he’d known, found everything foreign where it should have been familiar. Learning that the Dodgers had moved out West wasn’t quite landing in the middle of a multiversal incursion (reminder: check with Tony about what the scientific term for this was), but it wasn’t not. 

Tony had helped him through it. When Steve was fresh out of the ice, still unable to shake off the chill of decades under the Arctic, Tony had walked him through: Berlin Wall, Moon Landing, Obama, iPod (Classic, Nano, Shuffle, and Touch). Steve could never return the favor, but the least he could do was check in. Make sure the guy hadn’t been eaten by gremlins or spent three straight days in his workshop listening to AC/DC on loop again. 

So he stood in the doorway, two steaming paper cups in hand. He’d meant to bring bagels, too, but whatever had made New York bagels bagels apparently hadn’t made the jump with the rest of the city. Maybe it was the water. “Hey,” he said. “Figured you could use a coffee.”

❛   my  hero,  my  savior,  my  knight  in  shining  armor.   ❜  etcetera,  so  on  and  so  forth.  it  would  be  easy  to  wait  until  steve  made  his  way  any  further,  but  tony’s  always  running  a  little  short  on  caffeine  no  matter  how  much  he’s  had.  it  goes  through  his  system  like  oxygen,  different  than  the  way  most  people  process  it,  similar  to  how  steve’s  body  works  through  a  beer.  there  one  instant,  gone  the  next,  that’s  of  course  the  only  thing  that  could  account  for  his  blocks  of  energy.  sometimes  his  bouts  of  focus  go  for  hours,  sometimes  the  energy  is  at  the  very  end  of  the  dead  battery  scale.

there’s  probably  a  part  of  it  that’s  more  comfort,  anyway.  latverion,  anything  like  it  is  hard  for  a  mind  that  never  shuts  off.  tony  has  moments  where  he  thinks  he’s  made  his  peace  with  just  how  little  control  he  has  here,  but  honestly,  it  never  stops  being  difficult.  he’s  a  fixer,  an  inventor,  he  finds  the  smallest  crack  and  builds  an  exit  out  of  it.  he  can’t  even  begin  to  look  for  the  cracks  around  here.  it’s  doom’s  world  -  annoying  and  powerful  and  malevolent,  but  hey,  at  least  there’s  cap  and  coffee.  one  of  which  he  sips  after  taking  it  right  from  steve’s  hand.  

☄️— Conversations with the DoomMart version of Logan left Jean sizzling with untapped energy. It made the empty ache in their chest grow until they were sure the wound would be big enough that all of the power inside of them would be able to escape. Jean had more power on the tip of their tongue than they ever had in the past, and still they were empty.

Getting to this world, Latverion, Battleworld, Doom’s Sandbox, Jean had jumped at the chance to leave Xavier’s behind. The bitter taste of teaching the students that then turned their abilities on her had still coated Jean’s mouth. So they had bowed out of being Headmaster like they had before the Phoenix, gratefully taking the job of active retirement. Now though, with Logan beneath her skin, Jean felt the ache for how it used to be, to put the shattered things back.

The click of her shoes echoing against the stone walls was so haunting Jean thought for a moment it really was all a dream. She would wake up, in the arms of warm lovers and teach and scold and laugh. Then, as if plucked from her deepest truest desire a voice calls out. A million hearts broke in their chest all at once. “Scott?” They wanted to reach out and take his face in their hands, comb through his every thought, they wanted him to be the Scott they had— But even now, they knew.

“You look so much like him” Voice quiet and balanced, pain tightening around her lungs.

scott’s  not  a  particularly  optimistic  man.  he’s  hopeful,  sure,  but  it’s  so  rare  that  things  fall  into  his  lap  exactly  the  way  he’d  have  wanted  them.  he’s  not  sure  there’s  ever  been  anything  that  didn’t  need  working  for,  and  if  there  was  it  was  so  long  ago  he  doesn’t  even  remember.  it  does,  of  course,  make  all  the  sense  in  the  world  that  this  wouldn’t  be  his  jean.  the  person  who  knows  him  best,  that  wouldn’t  have  hesitated  to  come  closer,  closer,  closer.  he  thought  a  reunion  -  any  reunion  -  would  feel  better.

mostly,  it  just  hurts.  

that’s  more  summers,  anyway.  joy  had  barely  settled  over  his  skin  back  home,  so  new  and  unfamiliar.  he  hadn’t  yet  gotten  used  to  it,  but  he’d  wanted  to.  that  in  itself  had  been  a  step  forward,  which  was  always  destined  to  mean  three  steps  back.  four,  five,  however  many  being  moved  against  his  will  to  another  world  constitutes.  whatever’s  going  on  behind  his  ribcage  is  complicated  and  sharp,  twisting,  painful.

daisy gave a quick shrug, “i’ve never actually had a pet but how hard could it be, right?” she waved off the notion, knowing they definitely had more to deal with than her infatuation with gremlins. they just couldn’t let these little hellions go running free and possibly hurt anyone. she hummed in acknowledgement as he spoke, trying not to smile at the offer. “as cool as a suit would be, i don’t know how well it’d mix with my powers - which is admittedly easier to show than tell.” her hand raised for a quick moment, emitting a vibrational blast at some innocently bystanding chair to send flying across the room, the ground under them giving a small shake in an after effect. “vibrational manipulation, technical terms. i’m an inhuman, and a shield agent back home.” she gave the cliffnotes version, figuring it to be the easiest route, and the most useful information she could provide quickly. “alright so, these things don’t love the light, and if we can find something they do like - like food - maybe we can lure them into a trap?”

the  chair  goes  flying,  and  tony  is  briefly  distracted  by  the  concept  of  a  challenge.  ❛   i  could  fine  tune  a  suit.  i’d  have  to  do  some  scans,  maybe...   ❜  he  trails  off  a  moment  before  blinking  back,  flapping  a  hand  in  the  air  as  if  it  wasn’t  him  that  veered  off  track  to  begin  with.  ❛   anyway,  another  day.  remind  me.   ❜  anyone  that  knows  him  will  attest  to  his  love  for  a  side  project,  but  admittedly  there  are  more  pressing  concerns  for  the  time  being.  ❛   they’re  fast,  don’t  know  if  your  run  of  the  mill  box-and-stick-trap’ll  do  the  trick,  but  i  could  make  something  like  it.  take  it  by  batches.  they  didn’t  go  for  my  pizza,  but  maybe  it  was  the  brand.  frozen.  not  great.   ❜  it’s  a  mystery  whether  he’s  talking  more  to  daisy  or  himself  by  the  end  of  it,  sliding  over  to  a  monitor.  ❛   alright,  so,  good  plan.  trap’s  doable,  then  -  are  we  killing  them ?  are  you  morally  against  killing  gremlin-things ?  i’ll  let  them  loose  in  your  apartment  if  you  want.   ❜

rogue glanced over at scott with a few steps into his office. “ yeah everyone is in their bed i guess.” she told with a smile. “ although i’m sure some are sneaking out to see others.” she teased the headmaster. “ but i get it, we were kids like them once.” rogue added, it’s always best to bring some old memories for times like this. 

❛   of  course  they  are.  the  sneaking  around  never  gets  any  less  subtle.   ❜  for  a  school  full  of  mutants,  they  don’t  get  incredibly  creative  unless  they’re  sneaking  out  for  something  more  dangerous  than  a  harmless  visit  to  another  room.  it  would  be  a  lie  to  say  he  doesn’t  think  about  their  days  at  school,  the  same  he  does  about  everything  that’s  happened  since.   ❛   seems  like  lifetimes  ago,  doesn’t  it ?   ❜

💙 — “i have had as many good days as the bad…” was the best he could offer. “but i make for an always-great distraction. i negotiate, and you go for the backup plan. which is whatever we decide it is, right now. any thoughts?” that was step five, he figured. kurt was going to lose count eventually. “settling is, unfortunately, the name of this game. if i can convince him of that… just maybe.” it wasn’t that he lacked confidence in said plan, but he was looking at this through a practical lens. “because, doom will get what he wants regardless. whatever that is, it’s not this — we wouldn’t be here. so, if we don’t all win, we all lose.” 

❛   i  can  shrink  him ?   ❜  she  presses  a  button  on  the  wrist  of  her  suit,  opens  a  compartment  with  pym  discs.  ❛   if  he’s  not  doing  the  bug  mind  control  thing,  i  can  handle  the  rest  of  them.  i  don’t  wanna  squish  the  guy  or  anything,  but  maybe  smaller  equals  less  control  over  everyone  else ?  we  should  probably  have  a  back  up  for  the  back  up,  though,  in  case  it  doesn’t  make  any  difference.  do  you  know  where  to  get  a  psychic  dampener ?   ❜  she  tucks  the  disc  back  in,  flashes  an  amused  smile.  ❛   no  pressure  or  anything.   ❜  honestly,  there  was  a  long,  long  time  -  really  the  entirety  of  her  time  back  home,  cassie  very  well  might’ve  been  willing  to  lose  if  it  meant  doom  did  too.  she’s  a  little  more  grown  up,  now,  but  only  enough  to  not  do  it.  not  enough  to  not  consider. 

closed with scott summers: rogue was making sure all the students are inside of their room and sleeping before falling on some sofa somewhere around the school. she couldn’t help but notice scott’s door open. she walked over and knocked politely. “ you here? “ she asked softly. @ormenace​

❛   almost  always,  these  days.   ❜  when  home  is  out  of  reach,  behind  a  door  slammed  shut  he  wouldn’t  know  how  to  access  if  he  tried,  where  is  there  to  be  except  the  closest  thing?  he’s  remembered  lately,  too,  how  the  job  appealed  to  him.  the  knowledge  that  at  least  some  of  his  ducks  were  in  a  row,  things  exactly  as  they  should  be.  ❛   everything  alright  with  the  kids ?   ❜

||     “  I MEAN TECHNICALLY,   STALKERS SAY     just about everything.   anything that we do.   i’m pretty sure there’s a stalker out there that’s said that’s what stalkers say.  ”     she isn’t really helping her case.   like,   at all.   amy doesn’t think about it like that,   though.   in fact,   she’s pretty comfortable here,   what for having actively and actually trailed the girl from class.    “  it also doesn’t make a lot of sense.   like,   i’m pretty positive half of what we’re learning about doom’s history has to be made up.  ”    with ease,   amy slides back up onto the row of sinks,   cautious to not go back too far.   stalker allegations she can handle,   but falling ass first into a sink  ?  she’d never recover.    “  i still need  …  a partner.   for that thing assigned like,   two weeks ago.  ”

she  considers  this.  it’s  with  a  barely  quelled  smile  that  she  nods,  once,  decisive.  ❛   you’re  right,  amy.  stalkers  are  people  too.   ❜  if  she  were,  in  fact,  a  stalker  she  would  have  to  be  the  worst  one  in  the  world.  cassie’s  not  actually  sure  how  aware  her  classmates  are  of  each  other;  just  because  she  has  a  stock  of  knowledge  on  the  hero  and  hero-adjacent  community  doesn’t  mean  everyone  does.  someone  could  stalk  her  without  knowing  she  could  shrink  right  out  of  an  attempt,  and  that  she’s  likely  to  get  violent  with  it  on  principle  alone.  anyway,  this  doesn’t  seem  nefarious  at  all.  obvious  confusion  crosses  her  face  for  a  split  second  before  lighting  up  with  realization,  albeit  an  annoyed  one  followed  by  a  groan.  ❛   the  diorama  thing,  i  need  a  partner  too.  i  totally  forgot  -  how  up  your  own  ass  do  you  have  to  be  to  make  twenty  year  olds  craft  your  life ?   ❜

“I don’t know,” he said. “Do I? Does anyone? There’s no page on that in the manual–The Big Wheel and You: What to expect when a madman drives a unicycle through Midtown! I mean, there also isn’t a manual.” Peter frowned. “We should write a manual.” As Tony shepherded him out of the elevator–a little too forcefully, quickly, nervously–he heard something clattering in the shaft above them. Peter looked up, but there was nothing there. He didn’t make a crack about the new pets; he saw the way Tony tensed up, and followed him quickly out.

He’d never seen the lab clean. This was Tony Stark, who preferred loud music and flashy tricks to remembering to clean up after himself, and, Peter was pretty sure, didn’t know how to run a vacuum cleaner that wasn’t robotic. Not that he could judge; his workstation back at ESU was a nightmare on a good day, and his apartment, well. The less said about that the better. (Sorry, Aunt May.) But this was worse than usual. It could have been the gremlins–it was probably the gremlins, but it could also have just been Tony. Peter picked up an empty soda can and lobbed it in the general direction of a trash can. That was… helping.

He didn’t care that it was shitty frozen pizza, or that it was long past room temperature. It was pizza. Fuck, he was starving. When had he last eaten? Before the Big Wheel, probably. A protein bar. So he grabbed a slice before so much as putting down his backpack, and leaned against the table. “Thanks,” he said, mouth full. “What if I wanted to meet the gremlins? You gonna turn into a grempire? Were-gremlin? You try feeding them pizza?” Peter swallowed, slung his bag over the back of a chair, and reached for another piece. “Can I see the map? Do we have a game plan? Can I do anything?”

❛   title’s  too  long,  no  one’s  going  to  read  that.  it  needs  workshopping,  but  sure,  we  can  write  a  big  wheel  manual.   ❜  if  everyone  fixes  their  problems,  maybe  the  place  will  bounce  right  back  into  an  altogether  uneasy  calm.  tony  isn’t  grateful  for  the  havoc  that’s  gone  on  lately,  but  he’d  admittedly  been  getting  a  little  restless.  for  all  they  know,  this  whole  thing  could  be  just  to  keep  them  busy.  they’re  hamsters  running  around  a  little  wheel  while  doom  sits  on  the  couch  and  watches,  that  sort  of  thing.  anyway,  the  point  is,  they’ll  have  more  free  time  eventually.

❛   if  all  it  took  was  a  20  dollar  meal  to  get  them  to  settle  down,  believe  me,  they’d  be  gone.  just  because  it  works  on  you…   ❜  he  trails  off,  eyes  rolling.  they’re  not  barbaric,  and  while  tony  isn’t  anywhere  near  daisy’s  appreciation  for  the  creatures,  part  of  the  problem  is  trying  to  go  about  all  of  this  without  leaving  the  building  a  gruesome  scene  of  gremlin  remains.  realistically,  if  they  wanted  to  corner  them  all  and  pick  up  a  flame  thrower  or  something,  it  would  be  way  less  time  consuming  and  tedious.  but,  also,  very  gross.  potentially  very  inhumane.  yada  yada  yada.  

Of course she had to admit, things were a little awkward with the X-Men. She was pragmatic but she often forgot to include people’s feelings in what she did. She saw the practicalities but often forgot the complication of emotion. It was something Emma often chose not to deal with. Something the mutant leader had in common with her. At his tone, Emma looked back at him through the ruby lenses, letting him have his moment, even when their hands grazed. “I don’t know about you darling but I have been awfully busy trying to keep mutants alive.” Emma’s tone was sharp as her back straightened, never losing eye contact with him as she spoke. “Doom may be some pigheaded tyrant but he knows business. I can assure you an optic blast was not going to salvage our situation. I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. In return, mutants had their own land and the X-Men could continue on teaching.” Emma responded dryly, taking a step closer, hands falling to her hips. “I did what I have always done. I will be the villain if it means that mutants are safe.” Emma’s eyes searched his for a moment before she spoke again. “Believe it or not, I am not a complete monster anymore.”

❛   you’ve  historically  managed  to  balance  talking  to  me  and  keeping  mutants  alive.   ❜  scott’s  not  unaware  of  his  own  ability  to  be  demanding,  but  this  in  particular  has  felt  and  continues  to  feel  absurdly  reasonable.  he  doesn’t  keep  things  from  emma,  either  because  it’s  no  use  trying  when  she  has  open  access  to  his  head  or  because  he  hasn’t  felt  the  urge  in  some  time.  it’s  not  much  different  here,  when  emma  remains  one  of  the  only  things  familiar  to  him  from  before  this  world.  throughout  the  whole  thing,  the  most  scott  moves  is  to  roll  his  eyes.  ❛   as  much  as  i  appreciate  your  flair  for  the  dramatic,  i  did  not  nor  would  i  call  you  monstrous.  it’s  a  little  early  in  our  talk  to  be  putting  words  in  my  mouth.   ❜  sure,  there  may  have  been  times  he  would  have,  but  that’s  beside  the  current  point.  ❛   you  haven’t  been  forthcoming,  all  i’m  left  to  do  is  ask.  what  offer ?  your  loyalty ?   ❜

💙 — “a little unnerving, no?” he had dealt with big bugs before. gott, he had dealt with big everything and anything at this point. that didn’t make this particular infestation any easier. his eyes follow the beetle that crossed cassie’s path. it was certainly a far cry better than what it had been moments earlier, what with the swarming and the buzzing. “are they.. distressed at all?” one could assume they had been, at least a little, giving the energy they exuded earlier. but the question wasn’t on task, or particularly important, and kurt snapped his focus back up to the young bug whisperer and her talk of a plan. “ja, step four. hm. asking nicely won’t do the trick?” he asked, though the look he wore gave way to his doubt. a small smile, exasperated tilting back of his head. “well. we could discover his plan, work our way up from that. maybe we can all get what we want.” 

she’s  inclined  to  agree,  and  if  this  is  unnerving  there’s  a  part  of  her  that  feels  lucky  it  wasn’t  something  else.  like  giant  horses,  or  giant  snakes,  which  would’ve  been  downright  freaky.  she  hums  in  consideration,  watching  the  bugs  instead  of  her  partner  for  a  moment.  there’s  a  lot  of  them,  dad  would  totally  be  impressed  if  he  could  see  her  keeping  them  cool.  ❛   they’re  a  little  agitated,  but  not  at  us.   ❜  hopefully  they  can  keep  it  that  way.  grottu  aside,  the  rest  of  them  haven’t  actually  done  anything  wrong.  the  beetle  by  her  foot  seems  very  non  fussed.  grin  matched,  it’s  good  that  neither  of  them  seem  to  have  entirely  gone  past  good  spirits  yet.  ❛   i’ve  never  met  him,  but  i’ve  heard  he’s  not  really  a  talk  it  out  kinda  bug.  that’s  smart,  how  good  are  you  at  negotiating ?  something  tells  me  he’s  not  gonna  be  super  excited  to  settle.   ❜

The Baxter Building had a big eyeball. Manhattan had a big wheel (mostly under control, all thanks to yours truly, and a little bit thanks to Daredevil). Gwen had a big dinosaur. They had, you could say, a big problem. As much as he wanted to sit at home and watch The Masked Singer Latveria, and he did, he so desperately did, because he had ten doombucks riding on the guy in the glittery Emperor Doom mask being Doom himself, that wasn’t how this worked. He’d learned that a long, long time ago. When trouble came calling, you put on a pair of pants and dealt with it.

So here he was. Dealing with it. Which mostly  meant checking in with a slightly more adult adult who wasn’t currently fighting a giant eyeball and two small children, and who probably had access to the good tech. And maybe, just maybe, had some fucking idea what was going on here. And yeah, maybe Peter was putting too much faith in Tony Stark, but he had to put it somewhere.

“Please tell me your day’s going better than mine,” he said. “Or that it didn’t involve a fucking ferris wheel tearing up the city to Rascal Flatts. Or that you have any idea what’s going on. Or that you’ve got snacks? I’d settle for snacks.”

the  place  is  a  mess.  it’s  just  that  he  wasn’t  expecting  visitors,  and  he  prefers  to  have  someone  clean  for  him,  and  also  the  gremlins.  they’ve  figured  out  that  it’s  less  of  an  issue  during  the  day,  given  the  science  building’s  relatively  decent  natural  lighting  and  the  little  creatures’  desire  to  evade  anything  that  isn’t  shrouded  in  darkness.  that’s  worked  out  well  enough,  at  least,  it  gives  them  more  time  to  move  around  and  regroup  without  risking  bites.  the  suit  keeps  him  safe,  sure,  but  it’s  not  the  most  comfortable  thing  to  try  pulling  together  lunch  in.  so:  stick  to  the  light,  keep  the  blinds  open,  avoid  dark  corners,  all  tips  he’s  happy  to  follow  while  they  work  out  how  to  actually  get  rid  of  these  things.

so,  the  elevator.  it’s  not  his  favorite  place  right  now.  ❛   do  i  look  like  i’ve  been  herding  a  ferris  wheel ?   ❜  then  again,  peter  doesn’t  really  either.  actually,  he  looks  fine.  tony’s  going  to  have  jarvis  run  a  full  health  scan  just  in  case,  but  he  can’t  deny  that  the  lack  of  any  obvious  evidence  of  being  near  crushed  by  a  wheel  is  comforting.  the  elevator  dings,  and  tony  shoves  peter  onto  out  to  his  floor,  what  remains  of  daylight  shining  in.  off  to  the  side,  he  hears  a  telltale  scuffle  in  the  vents.  annoying.