𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐈𝐗 — the black order

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 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 far too proud of himself when two sets of narrowed eyes were flung his way. His helmet retreated, freeing his features that were certainly no less than smug. Emilia had poked fun at him for five whole years; always siding with Pepper, even if she was wrong... because apparently, Pepper Potts was never wrong.

 Which was somewhat true, now that Tony pondered the fact.

 Emilia rolled her eyes skywards, catching a flash of lightning as Thor surged by with his axe in hand, hair flying wildly behind him. She wasn't exactly giving Stephen the cold shoulder, as Tony had so delightfully put it... rather... saving herself from possible future hurt.

 Tony knew that, of course he did. It was clear enough that if they didn't win and Thanos spared any of them... Emilia wouldn't be 'sticking around'. She'd made it clear on numerous occasions that she simply couldn't handle that heartbreak once more.

 She'd been through too much, and her heart was far too fragile now.

 But keeping an air of arrogance and nonchalance was what Tony did best, wasn't it? Still, Tony had appeared for a particular reason, not just to simply cause a little couple's squabble.

 Tony stepped forth, metal boots clanging against a piece of shrapnel buried beneath a smattering of dust, "So. Fourteen million... and just one chance to win, yeah?" Tony looked up, eyes locked with Stephens... and Stephen had to try so very hard to keep a straight face when presented with his lie once more, "Tell me this is it."

 It was. The war raging around them was exactly what needed to happen. They'd all fight, they'd all bleed... and they'd all... no, most of them would survive to see another day. But there was just one little tidbit of information that Stephen clutched tightly to his chest, unwilling to let it free.

 There were two paths ready to diverge before them; Tony Stark would trail on his merry little way, fighting Chitauri as he went. He'd blast dozens of aliens into tiny little pieces... and then? Then he'd face Thanos all alone.

 But that was just one path. The other? Emilia would join him.

 Emilia Clemente would stick to Tony's side like glue while Stephen watched onwards, surrounded by the Black Order to face alone. Ebony Maw. Obsidian Cull. The rest of Thanos' children would crowd around him and obscure his view... but he knew what would happen if he and Emilia parted ways even if she was out of sight... because he always knew.

 She'd never let Tony snatch the stones from Thanos... she'd keep the genius at bay with her powers, all the while her skin glimmered as the Infinity Stones tore away at her flesh and bone. The Power Stone would singe her once more. The Time Stone would finally work against her... but even in such agony as her blood boiled from within, Emilia wouldn't relent. She would snap, and the army they were up against would be nothing more than a pile of miserable ashes at their feet.

 She'd die.

 The Avengers would gather around, both new and old... Some would shed tears, others would silently mourn a hero they'd never even had the fortune of meeting.

 Wong and Bruce Banner would curse, Tony Stark would blame himself while Rhodey wouldn't be able to find the will to even look at her. Peter Parker would shed a tear for one of his idols that had shown him such kindness, and Thor would weep for the woman who helped keep his people afloat.

 Stephen, well... he'd go utterly insane.

 It wasn't a future that could happen... It wasn't a future Stephen would allow to come to fruition.

 So, once more, Stephen Strange merely brushed his eyes by Stark, a cerulean gaze burning through the wall that had been crafted beside him, "If I tell you what happens, it won't happen."

 Tony scoffed, "Great to have you back, Strange. Really."

 Tony moved to blast away, the nano-particles of his helmet steadily crawling the length of his neck... he halted at Stephen's baritone voice. Stephen Strange wasn't often a man who accepted help, nor could he ever find his ego allowing him to thank another... yet as he glanced once more at the woman he'd so foolishly left behind, he let those words fall freely.

 "Thank you."

 Emilia rose a brow, rather too in sync with Tony.

 "Is it my birthday —"

 Stephen Strange could have very easily throttled Tony Stark. Stephen couldn't say he liked the man... they were, rather begrudgingly, far too alike. Two egos that would forever clash, two men flooded with an arrogance that was all too similar, but that didn't mean Stephen wouldn't ever stop appreciating the fact that Emilia was right there... because of Tony.

 Those futures he'd seen were all filled with vile images; some of the worst ended in such bouts of blood that Stephen had turned away. Without Tony, Stephen had seen flashes of Emilia descending into an abyss flooded with darkness. A darkness that even Bruce Banner couldn't banish with those garishly green hands.

 It wasn't always Thanos that had killed her in those visions... sometimes it'd been herself.

 Grief. Loneliness. Guilt. Rage... those things were a terrible concoction.

 "Thank you," Stephen ground out through gritted teeth. He soon softened, eyes cast towards Emilia once more. She looked different to him now, hair lopped to her shoulders, round cheeks suddenly angular before him. She looked older as to be expected, but Stephen could scarcely bring himself to see the slight creases around her mouth, no, it was her eyes that showed how much time had passed.

 The wide emerald-green he'd come to love... they'd sunken just a little, darkened over time. Like the spark that glittered within, showcasing the flecks of honey and lime had suddenly burnt out like the wick of a candle.

 "For looking after her." He finished, rendering Tony's smile utterly lifeless.

 The grin fizzled out as Tony nodded his head, just once. Then, as per usual, "To be honest, it's been great to have somebody working for me."

 "I don't work for you." Emilia bristled, "If anything, you work for me."

 "Sure Doc, now who made the time machine?"

 "We did. Both of us." Emilia's lips curled, "Don't make me tell Pepper that you've made Morgan a suit, too."

 Tony gaped. This was how everything ended with them. A squabble would grow louder and louder until Emilia would simply smile as though she had all the power in the world — which Tony had to give her... she kind of did have all the power in the world... Still, she would always pull the 'I'm telling Pepper' card like a traitor.

 Tony almost found himself saying the familiar 'you wouldn't dare'... but he knew she would. Actually, Tony knew she'd find great joy in doing so. He tutted, tongue clicking ever so irritably as he saluted her, "You're just trying to steal my wife," He cast a final glance at Stephen, "Keep that in mind, doc."

 Then he blasted off, and Just as Emilia took a step to follow after him, absolutely dreading having to face the man she'd been craving for so long... Stephen appeared before her, cloak flurrying behind him.

 Such a small action, merely halting her path... Yet Stephen knew it had been pivotal. He just had to keep her by his side, that was all. Stephe hadn't been able to meet Tony's eyes when the man had made his jest, for Stephen knew well enough where Tony was headed. the man was rushing to his own grave, and each ticking second was simply another shovel full of dirt dragged from a six-foot hole.

 That had been Emilia Clemente and Tony Stark's final, intelligible, conversation. The next would be dreadful, filled with burned flesh and eyes flooded with crystalline tears. Stephen had made his choice. He'd picked the path that favoured him... He'd done what was expected.

 "Emilia," He muttered ever so softly, and his voice almost sounded foreign to his own ears. The battle had been nothing but short yells and direction. He'd only heard his voice as the dull baritone so many would have grown used to. But Emilia wouldn't look at him, and it was killing him.

 Still, Emilia pursed her lips and willed her resolution to remain intact. They just had to win. Then she'd toss the ring in his face... and probably smother him with her very own lips; she quite liked being contradictory... and Stephen deserved it.

 "Emilia, please look at me."

 She'd never heard such desperation within his voice before. It was almost like he'd fallen to his knees before her, hands clasped together as though an angel had come to stand there, ready to grant him a wish... But Emilia wasn't that angel — how could something so celestial and pure ever be cracked and broken in places that people couldn't even see?

 Emilia relented, a small sliver of her own desperate heart seeping through a crack in its cage, "I can't."

 Everything still raged around them. Death and disparity came in bouts and flashes. With every shockwave from Thor or Wanda, there'd be a scream. With every blast from Tony or Rhodey or even Pepper, there'd be a grizzly growl as a Chitauri met its demise.

 Yet there was something peaceful standing there, watching as a battlefield exploded with soil and blood.

 Emilia did the very opposite to which she spoke, and met those eyes of his, "We have to win first. I can't —" She swallowed that lump in her throat, watching the way his head tilted just ever so slightly to the left, "I can't watch you leave again."

 Emilia's eyes shifted then, peering over Stephen's shoulder rather than into his feather-soft gaze. Ebony Maw was approaching, a sneer on those gruesome features of his... and like dutiful little soldiers all abiding by daddy's wishes, the rest of Thanos' children were right there behind him.

 The alien would have no idea just who he was facing. It was almost comical, ironic, to think that those years ago another version of Maw had chased them down and stuffed needles within Stephen's flesh. There was something rather satisfying about knowing that Emilia had beaten him once... and that she'd oh-so easily do it again.

 Before they'd been on a rather even playing field, now, however...

 Emilia only cocked her head, and the mound of swirling dust and debris upon which Ebony Maw had been floating atop toppled like a child's sandcastle washed away by ocean waves. He stumbled as his tower crumbled beneath him... and as he peered up from the ground he'd landed on, blood dripped from his mangled chin.

 Emilia felt Stephen by her side in an instant; the Black Order was coming for them. Thanos' children had managed to choose them out of everybody else scuttling upon the battlefield.

 There were four of them approaching. Of course, Ebony Maw whose face had twisted as though something sour had been stuffed down his throat; his telekinetic abilities had almost thwarted them once, but would never again.

 Then, there was another that Emilia had once had the delight in facing, and ultimately killing; Cull Obsidian. She could still remember the weight of the fountain she'd pried from the ground. The sound of coins toppling across the sidewalk still jingled within her ears as she peered at his imposing stature, at the chain hammer slung over his shoulder. He was nothing more than a brute, and a slow one at that.

 Proxima Midnight was a fearsome fighter armed with a three-pronged spear — such words had come from Natasha Romanoff herself. But what was a spear and fast movements against eldritch magic and gravity?

 Finally, Corvus Glaive took up their rear. This one had been the creature to subdue Vision. His glaive could cut through vibranium, and thus all it would take was to get that weapon out of his hands.

 It was four on two... yet as Stephen brought eldritch whips to life within his rattling palms, and as Emilia felt her skin buzz as the gravitons around them stood at attention, they both knew it was an even fight.

 Cull was the first to strike. His chain hammer soared through the air, tearing apart rocks and slabs of metal that lay upon the path before him. Emilia reached out, and just mere moments before the hammer could strike her gut and tear through flesh and bone... it stilled.

 It hung in the air like a silly little ornament. It was rendered entirely useless as jolts of blue skittered over its surface, seemingly swallowing the metal whole. Cull grunted and roared, for he was nothing more than a beast craving destruction... Emilia flicked her fingers forth, and the hammer obediently followed.

 That same path it had torn through was bare of any obstructions; there were no obstacles to rive through, nothing to slow its path even by a second... and Cull Obsidian, with a stature far bigger than even Thanos', simply didn't have the speed to move aside.

 The hammer carved a hole into his chest, and that was just how easy it was to take one of them down.

 Black blood tumbled in waves, and hunks of flesh toppled to the ground with a sickening squelch. Even his ghastly siblings paused in their steps, watching as droplets of metallic liquid soon trailed by their toes.

 Emilia rather relished in their furious snarls as they soon surged forth.

 It was hard to tell what was really happening amidst the frenzy; sparks flew from Stephen's fingertips as Proxima Midnight twirled her spear and soon jabbed it his way, and an eldritch whip coiled around it like a ravenous snake. It was a tug-of-war, yet inevitably Stephen dropped his whips and soon enough, like he'd done back on titan... There were dozens of his likeness surrounding the alien.

 Emilia could see Maw at the very back of the fight; he commanded thin pieces of shrapnel her way all in the hopes of slicing through her skin... the problem on his end was that he didn't quite seem aware that Emilia had taken five years worth of training under her belt. From meditation that lasted hours on end, to facing Tony in one of his suits dodging each and every blast — hell, she'd even convinced Bruce to swing his green fists at her.

 She was in tune with the air around her, as though each minuscule little graviton drifting mindlessly was suddenly standing by her side, whispering right into her ears in a dulcet tone. Shrapnel merely slid her by as she twisted on her toes in tune to the ceaseless mutterings directing her where to go.

 But while Maw grew ever more frustrated as each of his decisions rendered him without a single cut or droplet of blood to be spilt, he didn't seem at all interested in joining the fight... as though he was biding time, waiting until he could devour the spotlight all on his own. Emilia supposed that was the sort of ego to come with being Thanos' prized lieutenant.

 Still, while the air around Emilia directed her movements as though she were a mere feather in the wind, she still had Corvus Glaive following each and every step like an irritating shadow. He was fast on his feet, and swift to cut through the air with his glaive.

 While Corvus and Proxima were holding their own, it was obvious that they were mere facades. They were there to steal Emilia and Stephen's attention all the while Maw concocted a plan to finish them off. It was hard to dodge both a blade and the earth moving beneath them.

 With every hop backwards to avoid a strike, Maw would jostle those gruesome fingers of his and the soil would move in tandem. Dirt would coil around their boots, trying to halt their movements... Thankfully Stephen's trusted cloak seemed well aware of their assault and hoisted him into the air the moment dust became unsettled.

 Emilia, however, had to rely on her own senses.

 Strike after strike was hurled her way. Pipes buried so far beneath the ground that Tony had likely forgotten about them completely, uncoiled from the earth and trailed upwards like wriggling worms... They chased her, trying their hardest to cling to her legs so that Glaive could finally strike her down.

 They were closing in, perhaps Emilia should have given them some credit after all.

 Worst of all... it seemed that Corvus Glaive's weapon not only sliced through the air like a knife through butter... It healed him. As long as that glaive was still in hand, she had absolutely no hopes of defeating him. Every hit with a rock soon sizzled away, blood sucked back within the wound it had trailed from, leaving no scar, no marring behind.

 So perhaps it was time to shed the one-on-one fighting and finally act like the protectors Emilia and Stephen were supposed to be. Those in Kamar-Taj had seen them fight together far too many times to count, alone they might have been utterly lethal... but together they seemed to rattle the earth's core. They were, after all, Masters of the Sanctum Sanctorum finally back by one another's side.

 "Stephen!" Emilia called, swiftly sending her fingers through the air. Her suit was alight with electric blue as her powers surged forth. Corvus was pushed back, and the pipes assaulting her legs were crushed in an instant.

 Stephen's response was instantaneous, a loud hum drifting through the air and over the sound of battle cries and explosions. He never relented on Proxima either, even despite the nick she'd managed to slice upon his torso.

 Emilia needed to say nothing more than the name of a spell that would alight the earth around them. The Icy Tendrils of Ikthalon were known to be the earth-swallowing spell. Tendrils of ice-cold blue would shoot from the earth itself, shaped as the sharpest of spikes... it would grasp ahold of any enemies within the vicinity and consequently slam them right back into the dirt. The remnant of energy left behind would slow their limbs, and halt their movements... It would be perfect for the ones they each faced.

 "Ikthalon!" She gritted out, rather regretfully losing a strand or two of hair as Corvus thrust his weapon forth. The aim had been her shoulder, to render one hand full of power utterly useless... he'd missed by a mere second.

 Stephen followed instruction with ease — a very stark contrast to his time as a student — and soon enough, spikes akin to icicles split through the ground around his feet. It was no surprise to see Maw avoid them, but Proxima and Glaive were not so fortunate.

 Their limbs were grasped as they were hauled high into the air, and then, in a beat, their faces collided with the ground sodden with blood. Their bodies rippled, jolts of lasting energy encasing their limbs and flesh like a cage.

 Glaive reached for his weapon cast by his side... but Emilia soon stilled his sluggish movement. Her boot landed upon his forearm, and with a single hand moving through the air with the grace and poise of a ballerina to the standards of Natasha Romanoff herself, his own weapon embedded itself within his skull.

 Stephen had bound Proxima within the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak; such bands were often used to subdue enemies, to hold them still for long periods of time... hell, they'd managed to still one of Thanos' arms back on Titan... now, however, Stephen merely held her there as she snarled like an unruly beast.

 Maw surged, a vortex of rocks and dust swirling beneath his feet as he moved forth. With two of his siblings dead at Emilia's hands, it was time to join the fight. However, before he could so much as lend a helping hand to Proxima, Stephen's fingers alighted.

 The Bolts of Balthakk were one of the most offensive spells within his arsenal. He'd tossed them to and fro on the battlefield already, watching as the sky lit up with lightning and fire... Proxima lay there writhing in utmost pain as fire encased her body. Stephen had struck mere moments before Maw sent a slab of stone his way.

 It assailed him directly in the chest, winding Stephen immediately.

 Spittle was flung from Maw's thinned and wrinkled lips, "You ought to start digging your grave!" He snarled Emilia's way all the while he hoisted Stephen into the air atop a mound of dirt. It seemed like history was repeating itself, "Or shall I do it for you?"

 "Now, why would I do that?" Emilia took just one step forwards, hardly blinking as a rock flew by her head. She'd surrounded it in blue the moment the air around her had displayed its course of movement. Maybe she had picked up too many things from Tony Stark; witty comments, sarcasm that could drown a man in absolute misery... but she just couldn't help herself.

 Another step and Emilia parted her lips once more, repeating words that this Maw had yet to speak, right back to him, "After all, your powers are inconsequential to mine."

 Apparently, Emilia hadn't shut off her comms... for the resounding snort of Tony Stark flooded her ears.

 Ebony Maw was nothing short of furious. So furious, in fact, that he brushed his hands aside and let Stephen topple to the ground in a heap. Maw slowly drifted to the dort, rocks and dust surrounding his boots, fleeing the vortex that had carried him so far.

 Then, the back and forth began.

 Emilia could have ended things, she knew she could have... but watching as Maw's face contorted further as each of his attacks so narrowly avoided her form, well, it was almost cathartic.

 She wanted to try something new. Merely tossing rocks and jagged metal back and forth was something they'd done in their fight before. They'd tested their strength against one another until Emilia's legs had started to buckle... this time was different. She was stronger, worthy to utter his own phrase back to him.

 Five years had been enough time to learn so many things. From the mystic arts and the spells that came with being the Sorcerer Supreme, to developing her own hold over the world. Gravitons were everywhere, hidden right before one's very eyes. They could be shaped and moulded like pliable dough. They could be called upon like her own innate army.

 But they could also be condensed.

 They could be forced together, compelled to huddle like a band of squawking penguins atop the snow. It had only happened a few times, for the concentration and sheer will that it took to complete such a task was great... but Emilia had thrice before managed to craft beams from the gravity around her.

 She could call out to the air, hold her palm out before her, fingers oh-so taught... then, with a hollow breath that pushed away any thoughts, a bright light would spark to life right before her very eyes.

 Bruce had been the one to bring such an idea to light after watching Tony blast a tree with his repulsors; he'd suggested that with immense strength and determination, Emilia would have the capability to draw forth the gravitons tittering by her side.

 Emilia moved to the left as a slab of metal hurtled through the air, then to the right as Maw continued his onslaught... and just when Stephen Strange had gotten to his feet, ready to craft a blade flooded with amber sparks... Emilia rose both of her hands.

 She coddled air between her palms, as though her hands were surrounding an open flame, desperate to warm chilly flesh. The air between them rippled as though everything was merely an illusion ready to shatter and bring forth reality. A spark ignited, blue and bright, then another, each one jumping around the space between her palms.

 Stephen struck a whip at the rock Maw had sent Emilia's way, and it burst into pieces around her. She hardly cared nor even flinched as debris littered her skin and hair, drawing blood and caking her with dirt.

 The seconds ticked by and Stephen didn't relent. Whips of amber, surges of fire and lightning; he conjured anything and everything to protect her, even as he watched the power between her hand's bubble and boil.

 As though someone had sparked a match, the chittering energy huddled within Emilia's palms positively exploded. A beam so bright Stephen had to shield his eyes was flung through the air. Anything that came into its path was destroyed, not even dust left in the wake.

 Maw had laughed, he'd cackled like an utter maniac... he had absolutely no idea that when the beam would strike his chest, it would sail through as though he were made of air himself.

 That's exactly what it did. A hole burned through the alien's belly and the beam continued onwards as though Ebony Maw hadn't been there at all; in the end, he himself was as inconsequential as his own powers.

 Ahead, Stephen could spy Mantis pushing her own enemy into the beam, watching with wide and beaded eyes as the Chitauri vanished from sight. She was followed further along by Shuri, whose blasters hit an opponent in the chest, sending it directly into the line of fire. Beast after beast stumbled, sizzling limbs erupting into nothingness while heroes new and old hurtled away from the assault.

 The beam fizzled out as though a light switch had been turned off, and Emilia's knees soon hit the ground while her chest heaved and shuddered beneath the pressure that had built. She lifted her sweat-slicked head... hairs clung to her skin, dirt was smeared over her cheeks and dust had settled atop her eyelashes... she almost smiled as she looked onwards, seeing Maw laid on the ground with a gaping hole within his flesh and bone, right beside his deceased siblings.

 But, as always, all good things would be spoiled with something bad. Something Terrible.

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DATE: 17-03-2023

:･ﾟ★ um? not the absolute girlbossing of emilia clemente? 

TWO CHAPTERS LEFT (yes the part we're dreading comes next) AS WELL AS 3 (maybe 4, but i kinda hate how it turned out) ONESHOTS!!

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