#and spots would be TERRIFIED of the other drax

[sharkfinn]

@dianagj-art ok hear me out what if they suddenly swapped places/draxums

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, language

Authors note: every time I wrote “Thor”, it autocorrected to “thot” and honestly that’s fitting. Also, I changed a few things from the canon story. Enjoy and feedback is always appreciated:)

Masterlist

“Hello?”

A beat of silence.

“Hello? My name is Y/n. Is anyone there?” You pressed the buzzer again. You looked around above you and spotted a camera. You waved your hands in front of it.

“Hello? Is anyone inside? My name is Y/n. Please, someone answer.” You tried again.

You were met with more silence. You were completely and utterly sick of silence.

“Is anyone there? Please. I’m friends with Mr. Stark.” You shouted. You continued to wave your hands in front of the camera. Finally, you heard the buzzer crackle.

“You’re Tony’s friend?” A voice asked. He sounded desperate and older than you. His voice was followed by a series of shushes and disagreement. You heard multiple voices, one definitely belonging to a woman.

“I say we let her in. She’s hot.” A cocky voice suggested. It was followed by more shushes.

“She could be dangerous.” The woman’s voice said. She sounded authoritative but kind.

“Does she look dangerous? Quill could do more harm and he was a tub of lard.” The cocky voice said again. If you weren’t so confused and lost, you would’ve laughed.

“Um…the microphone is still on.” You said awkwardly. It was followed by a moment of embarrassed silence before the first voice came back.

“Come in.” He finally said. The door stirred and opened and you quickly went inside the Avengers tower.

You were met with a group of people you slightly recognized from newscasts and magazine articles. You knew they were the Avengers, or at least what was left of them. They were very popular when you lived in New York but you hadn’t heard from them in a while.

“What did you say your name was again?” A blonde man stepped forward. You recognized his voice from before.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You stammered. Everyone was staring you down so intensely. Everyone except a broad man in the corner, who sat slumped over a desk with a blank stare on his face.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Steve.” The man stuck out his hand and you shook it. He had an impossibly firm grasp. His voice was horse and though he tried to put a positive look on his face, he looked defeated.

“You’re Captain America right?” You asked calmly. You didn’t want to geek out at such a trying time, but you knew exactly who he was. He gave you a slight smile.

“I am. This is Natasha.” Steve gestured to a lady with an icy blonde bob. She gave you a warm smile and shook your hand.

“You can call me Nat.” She said kindly. You smiled for the first time in days. You definitely liked her.

“How do you know Tony?” A different man asked. You also recognized him from the news. He was Tony’s right hand man, Rhodey.

“He made me my suit. And he knew my boyfriend. Neither of them came home last week and I didn’t know where else to go. All my friends disappeared.” You admitted out loud for the first time. The Avengers looked at each other and sighed.

“What about your family?” Nat asked. You shrugged.

“My family disappeared long before any of this happened.” You told them.

“Mine too.” Came a deep, brooding voice. The man in the corner stood up and made his way to you. You tried to ignore the surprised faces the rest of the Avengers made at his movement. The man was huge and you felt yourself tremble. He reached out a hand towards you and you flinched, but he gently rested it on your shoulder.

“I lost my family too. But not by the snap. Who did you lose?” The man said sadly. He had a mixture of anger and sympathy in his two different colored eyes.

“My sister.” You answered him. “And you?” He gave you a sad smile.

“My brother, Loki. And my parents.” He told you. You relaxed under his touch.

“Me too.” You said, almost excitedly. You had never met another orphan in your life. You weren’t sure why you were telling this stranger all your personal information but something about him made you feel protected and safe.

“I like this one.” He announced to the group. Murmurs of approval rang through the crowd. You felt your cheeks heat up. The man turned back to you.

“Its a pleasure, Lady Y/n. I am Thor.” Thor said. You felt dumb for not recognizing him sooner. But his hair was cut and he was in regular clothing. And most of all, he didn’t have a hammer.

“Back up. Why did Tony make you a suit?” Rhodey asked. The rest of the Avengers looked at you with the same question on their minds.

“Well I have, um, had this Symbiote named Venom. She came from Klyntar and lived with me for over a year. I, um, I lost her in the dusting.” You admitted painfully. You had only lost her a week ago but you already felt completely empty without her. To make matters worse, you hadn’t heard a word from Peter. You worried for his safety every second of every day.

“Oh Klyntar? I love that planet. Bunch’a babes over there.” The cocky voice from earlier spoke up. Your eyes landed on where the voice had come from and you screamed.

“Did that raccoon just talk?” You pointed at the raccoon that was fully dressed, armed, and standing on two feet. Well, paws.

“Don’t call me a raccoon! Quill says I’m a trash panda so everybody better call me a trash panda or they’re getting shot.” The raccoon threatened.

“Somebody take Rocket into another room before I barbecue him.” Rhodey sighed. You were shocked at how casual everyone was about the damn talking raccoon named Rocket.

“It was no dusting, Lady Y/n. It was a snap.” Thor told you.

“A snap? What snap?” You asked, very confused.

“Thanos collected all the infinity stones and snapped. That’s why half the population turned to dust.” Nat informed you.

“Thanos? Who the fuck is Thanos?” You asked, suddenly furious since learning the reason your beloved boyfriend and Symbiote vanished.

“Language.” Steve said sternly. You felt your anger melt into embarrassment.

“Sorry. Whom the fuck is Thanos?” You repeated. Steve pinched his nose bridge as snickers spread throughout the group.

“Thanos is a Titan. He’s big and purple and…and that’s about it. Oh, and he just killed half the population.” Rhodey explained. You felt your blood go hot.

“So Thanos killed my best friend? Did he kill Tony too?” You asked, almost terrified of the answer. You were desperate to know about Peters whereabouts, but no one here knew Peter Parker. They knew Spider-Man. And you didn’t want to risk revealing Peters identity.

“We don’t know. He went to space with a few of the others to fight Thanos. We haven’t heard from any of them in a week.” Steve answered, his voice thick with disappointment. “Our only lead is this pager that won’t stop going off. We don’t even know who it’s calling.”

You looked at the pager and saw a star in the middle of a red and blue background. You didn’t know who it was for either.

“Who are the others?” You asked, your heart fluttering hope and anticipation knowing there was potential information about Peter.

“Spider-Man, Dr. Strange, and a couple of the Guardians.” Nat told you. You smiled upon hearing Spider-Man. There was still a chance that he was out there.

“Who are the Guardians?” You asked suddenly. Rocket stepped forward with a smirk. You didn’t know raccoons had the ability to smirk.

“My gang. We’re the frickin’ Guardians of the Galaxy. Quill, Nebula, Gamora, Drax, and the weird one with the antennas. They were all getting their jollies off space while Groot and I did the dirty work. Now Groot is gone and I haven’t heard from any of them. Not since Quill said he was with glowy hands-“

“-Dr. Strange.” Steve corrected.

“Tin man-“ Rocket went on.

“-Tony.” Nat sighed.

“-and little tin man-“ Rocket continued.

“Spider-Man.” Rhodey groaned.

“-on a spaceship. But Quill said they were heading to Thanos’s home planet.” Rocket told you. You heard most of what he said. You were mainly focused on trying to comprehend that a whole ass raccoon was speaking to you.

“Why haven’t any of you gone to that planet to look for them?” You asked. You didn’t want to seem rude but there seemed to be an overlooked opportunity to find everyone.

“Because none of these ding dongs have a spaceship.” Rocket sneered. The Avengers rolled their eyes. You figured the week spent with Rocket was a long one.

“What if I can get you a ship?” You asked. Steve and Nat immediately perked their heads up.

“You can?” Nat asked.

“How?” Steve finished.

“I don’t want to get into detail but the Life Foundation back in San Francisco owes me a few favors after nearly killing me several times. They own a bunch of spaceships. I’m sure I could get you one.” You said. It was true. In exchange for not suing the crap out of the Life Foundation, they offered you an endless debt of gratitude. That debt included a spaceship.

“Call them. Now.” Rhodey demanded. You, as well as Steve and Nat, looked at him.

“Call them now.…please?” Rhodey repeated. You nodded and dialed their number.

After two weeks of aimlessly searching space with Rocket, you found what resembled a gigantic donut.

“That’s the ship. I’m sure of it. Quill’s fat ass said it looked like a donut.” Rocket told you. You nodded as he steered closer. You went because you were in charge of the ship, and Rocket went because he was the only one who had been to space. Nat, Steve, and Rhodey stayed behind and waited for your arrival.

Rocket pulled up next to the ship as you put your suit on. It would protect you since it was made from Venoms skin and she was from space. You slept in your suit most nights, missing her terribly. Rocket gave you something that you didn’t recognize to wear over your face so you could breath. He put it behind your ear and pressed it. An invisible blue mask covered your face and you went outside.

You circled the ship until you found the front. There was a giant window and through it, you saw Mr. Stark fast asleep. You almost didn’t want to wake him, but you figured after 22 days in space, he was ready to come home. You excitedly knocked on the window and waited. Tony jumped and his eyes fluttered open. He caught sight of you and you smiled happily, knowing if he was there, Peter was too. You were also thrilled to see him alive and well after losing every familiar face you knew. Tony unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward, looking at you in disbelief. You pointed to the right, where your ship was. Rocket had extended a bridge so Tony and everyone else could get on. Tony followed your finger and sighed in relief.

Within a few minutes, Tony was on your ship and in your arms. He gave you a tight embrace, much tighter than you thought he would. You were friendly with him, but not that friendly. He pulled away and kissed your forehead in a fatherly manner.

“I missed you Mr. Stark.” You told him. You felt emotional all the sudden. You hadn’t seen him in so long and the past three weeks were traumatizing.

“I missed you too, kid. I missed everyone. And food. I really miss food. You’d think Astronauts were smart enough not to pack their food in little cubes.” Tony joked. 22 days stranded in space and he was still cracking jokes. You smiled warmly at him.

“There’s plenty of food on the ship. We’ll be home soon and you can see everyone then. Rocket, take us home.” You called.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Rocket called back. You looked at him and noticed he was with a blue and purple girl with no hair. She was holding one of his paws.

“That’s Nebula. She was my only companion on my little space-cation.” Tony told you. You felt your heart drop.

“Only companion?” You looked back at him and asked. Tony’s eyes filled with sadness as he nodded.

“I’m sorry. Believe me, losing him was the worst part of all of this. I did everything I could to stop Thanos.” Tony apologized. You pulled him into another hug. You cried onto his shoulder and he cried onto yours.

“No tears on my ship! I don’t want you sissies making the floor all slippery.” Rocket sneered. Your wiped your nose on the back of your hand.

“This is my ship.” You answered. Nebula looked at you with amusement and you gave her a shy smile.

“I lost Venom.” You told Tony sadly. Tony rubbed your arm.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m so sorry. Is Pepper-“

“Pepper’s alright. She’s waiting back at the tower with everyone else.” You told Tony. His tired eyes filled with relief. You finally noticed how skinny he was and how fragile he looked.

“This will probably take a few hours. Why don’t you eat something and sleep? There’s a bed right through there.” You pointed down a corridor and Tony thanked you wordlessly. You went over and sat with Nebula and Rocket once Tony had fallen asleep. They were in the middle of a conversation about who didn’t make it back.

“What about Gamora?” Rocket asked. He sounded hurt. You had only ever heard him sound cocky, annoyed, sarcastic, or angry. Never hurt. Your heart went out to him.

“My father killed her for the Soul Stone.” Nebula answered. Her voice was monotone and metallic. You looked up at her sadly and put a hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry about your sister. My sister is dead too.” You spoke up. Nebula looked at you with her jet black eyes.

“I am sorry to hear that.” She said robotically. You could tell she wasn’t human. Mostly machinery. You gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you. Is your father still alive?” You asked her. Nebula turned away.

“Unfortunately.” She said while looking ahead.

“Unfortunately?” You questioned.

“Her father is Thanos.” Rocket said as if it were obvious. You retracted yourself from Nebula. You felt white hot anger towards the daughter of the man who killed Peter and Venom.

“I hate my father as much as you do. You have no reason to be afraid.” Nebula told you. You immediately felt back and put your hand back on her arm.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged so quickly. I’m just really hurt over losing Venom and my boyfriend.” You said. Nebula nodded in understanding.

“My father is cruel. But he isn’t infallible. He had brought me great pain. I won’t rest until I make him pay for his crimes.” Nebula said assuredly. You nodded in agreement.

“As you should. Girl power.” You said extending your fist to her to bump.

“What is “girl power”?” Nebula stared at your fist in confusion. With your other hand, you picked up her arm and molded her fingers into a fist. You carefully pressed yours against hers.

“Girl power is the power all girls have inside them that allows them to do incredible things. And that was a fist bump.” You explained to her. Rocket groaned loudly.

“This is painful. Truly painful.” Rocket uttered. You shushed him.

“What does it mean? Does this make us friends?” Nebula asked as she examined her fist. The word sounded foreign to her. You smiled widely.

“Friends? Pshh. I’ll do you one better. We’re sisters.” You stated. Nebula smiled at you for the first time.

“Ohh gross. You got smurfette to smile. What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Rocket whined. You shrugged and scooted closer to Nebula. You talked for the rest of the flight home.

You watched from a distance as Tony reunited with Pepper, Steve, Nat, a man you hadn’t met in glasses, and a woman you also hadn’t met. The woman came up to you after greeting Tony. She wore a blue and red suit and had shoulder length blonde hair. You recognized the star on her suit as the one on the pager.

“Nice to see another girl around here. My name is Carol.” The woman introduced. You were a little taken aback by her sheer confidence and authority. She was beautiful, no doubt, but that was the least interesting thing about her. You shook her hand and were a little shocked by how strong she was. She was almost glowing in the moonlight.

“Hello Carol. We are…um, I am Y/n.” You corrected yourself before you told her you were Venom. You had gotten so used to saying that and it felt strange to go back to just Y/n.

“Y/n? Are you sure about that?” Carol teased you. She obviously heard the hesitation in your voice when you said your name. You laughed in embarrassment.

“I’m sure. I used to to go by a different name is all.” You explained. Carol nodded in understanding.

“So did I. I was Vers for a long time. If you call me that now though, I’ll burn your hand off.” Carol laughed, only you had a feeling she wasn’t kidding. You laughed awkwardly and walked back with her to join the group.

Within another week, you had gotten to know everyone. Nebula and Nat became like your sisters. Tony and Steve were like the dads and Rhodey and Carol felt like your aunt and uncle. And Thor, Thor felt like a friendly golden retriever. You learned that the man you didn’t recognize the day you came back from space was named Bruce Banner. He didn’t talk much but when he did, you could tell he was highly educated.

The week came with hardships as well. Everyone had gotten into a fight over the next step to take with Thanos. A few of the Avengers has gone to find him and the Infinity Stones, but came back empty handed. You felt yourself losing hope in seeing Peter again. More fights broke out and everyone eventually went their separate ways. You hadn’t left Avengers tower since you came back from space and didn’t plan too. It’s not like you had anything to go back too. Nat had moved into the tower and asked you if you wanted to stay as well. And so, you packed up your apartment and moved in with Nat.

Steve, Rhodey, Carol, and Rocket checked in every now and then. You hadn’t heard anything from Tony or Bruce in a long time. Nat told you stories of a man, Clint, who was also an Avenger. You didn’t recognize the name but from the way she described him, he was important. To her, at least.

“Why don’t you just ask the man out already?” You giggled. It was two years later. Nat was telling you yet another story of her and Clint’s adventures in Budapest while you watched a movie on the couch. It was one of those relaxing, make up free nights with Nat.

“It’s not like that. He’s my best friend. I’d die for him but I wouldn’t date him. Plus, he has a wife and kids.” Nat shrugged. You rolled your eyes.

“That’s what they all say. You think I wasn’t calling my boyfriend my “best friend” before we started dating?” You teased. Nat chewed on her straw and laughed as well.

“Speaking of dating, when are you getting back out there?” Nat nudged you. You suddenly felt uncomfortable with the topic.

“I have a boyfriend.” You said simply. And you did. He was just in a million pieces and floating around space.

“You had a boyfriend. I know it hurts but it’s been two years, Y/n. We all lost people and it sucks but now we have to move on. And I think it’s time you move on, Y/n. You are way too beautiful to be sitting on the couch with me every Friday night. You need to go out and get some, girl.” Nat said playfully. She meant well but her words hurt you. You couldn’t imagine moving on from Peter. Where would you go? Who could possible replace him?

“I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me moving on.” You kept it short and sweet. You really didn’t want to push the subject any further.

“Damn. I’ve known you two years and you still won’t tell me his name.” Nat changed the subject, noticing your reluctance to discuss dating. You felt a pain in your heart at the topic and looked down at your hands. You busied yourself by playing with the ties of Peters sweatshirt that you slept in every night.

“You know it’s too painful to say his name.” You said quietly. It wasn’t a total lie. You had talked about Peter with her before. You just never actually told her his name. Everyone knew Peter Parker worked for Stark Industries. You swore you’d never let his identity slip. It was the least you could do for him while he was away. That was another thing. No matter how long he was gone, and it had been two years at that point, you’d never believe he was gone for good. You held on to hope that he was still out there, clawing his way back to you. In your mind, he was still your boyfriend, no matter what.

“I know, sweetheart. But you’ve told me everything else about him. Why not just say his name, just this once?” Nat said softly. You looked up at her with tears in your eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t bring myself to say it when I know his head won’t perk up when I do.” You said in a strained voice. “He won’t answer if I call his name. I can’t deal with that. I can’t handle the thought of him not being there to hear it. I don’t want to say his name until I can say it to him.” You confessed. Nat took your hand in hers. You studied her features. Her hair was significantly longer. Red roots faded into her bleached tips. Her face was one you had come to recognize as family.

“I understand that. But it’s been two years. It might be time to accept that they aren’t coming back.” Nat said softly, not wanting to upset you further. She wiped your tears with her thumb and pulled you into a hug. You rested your head over her heartbeat. It reminded you of when you’d fall asleep to the sound of Peters beating heart.

“Peter. His name was Peter.” You whispered.

Tag List 🏷

@monimiin @truthdaze @honeyccoated @constellationswithapurpose @condy-wants-a-cookie @zipp0flare @vxidnik @maddie-laufeyson @bubblegumholland @the-blindwatcher @pmvelez97 @ziggyspurplehaze @grippleback-galaxy @fangeekkk @twilight-loveer @assemblemotherfuckers @bolivianchickennugget @founding-fuck-bois @neonpandicorn

[renxzs]

lay these fears to rest

Pairing: Peter Quill x Gamora

Summary: Gamora fights to work through her inner demons as she learns to open herself up to Peter and explore physical aspects of their newly spoken Unspoken Thing.

Warnings: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, smut (18+), budding relationship, scars, post-guardians of the galaxy vol. 2

Word Count: 8,228

Gamora brushed her teeth as she prepared for bed. She made a mental note to threaten Drax in the morning if he let a single day more pass by without cleaning the communal bathroom as she spit out the toothpaste. It was his responsibility this week, and the bathroom was disgusting. Gamora straightened and tapped her toothbrush on the edge of the sink and then clasped a protectant shell over it - god knows what filth fills the air in this little bathroom - before placing it in her designated drawer.

Her eyes flicked up to the slightly smudged mirror. She heaved a soft sigh, knowing full well that Groot had been drawing faces and shapes on the steamed glass again. Rocket wasn’t too keen on telling him no when it was his turn to help Groot with his bath. Gamora pulled out a washcloth from under the sink and began wiping the mirror clean of smudges. Her eyes flickered over the silver grooves on her face in the now clear reflection. Her scars.

A wave of shame and anger rushed through her at once. Her left hand that sat on the sink counter was now gripping it tightly; the counter groaned in protest and she immediately let loose. A sigh escaped her lips as her head dropped; she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She worked to push their reminder - what they stood for - to the back of her mind.

During her time with Thanos, Gamora didn’t have much time to dwell on her scars - to give them a second thought. Or even a first thought.

No, her focus was solely on survival; always fighting to live to the next day. However, she had more time now than she’s ever had in her life before. On the surface, that might seem great. Freeing, even. Her newly discovered freedom came with a catch though, she’s learned. There was more time to for her mind to wander to the dark places of her past. More time to truly mull over what she’s become, what she’s done. To actually see the mutilations Thanos bestowed upon her in order to bend and manipulate her body into his most effective weapon.

His favorite weapon, at that.

Gamora sneered at the thought of him. The sound of cloth tearing easily in her hands filled her ears before she was even aware of doing the action. She tossed the ripped cloth in the trash bin with a huff. Her eyes rolled at the sight of the near overflowing bin and gave a silent thanks to the fact that Peter had his own bathroom in the captain’s quarters - one less slob adding to the filth of this one.

Despite her annoyance with the lack of cleanliness of her teammates, her heart rate quickened slightly at the thought of Peter. She pulled her hair out of its loose ponytail and emerged from the bathroom, padding quietly down the short hall to her own room. After placing the elastic band atop the small night stand, she reached for the small black brush. Dragging the bristles through her long locks, she worked to smooth out any tangles.

Her thoughts drifted back to Peter, a small smile settling on her lips. She had admitted recently to him her acknowledgement of the Unspoken Thing between them. It was the most she could do at the time. The physical attraction had been evident nearly from the start, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew better to not allow physical attraction to become a distraction. Not when she was trying to escape her life with Thanos.

But things were very different now than they were a couple months ago. She had that newfound freedom. The luxury of sharing a living space with others who didn’t prey on her or exploit any possible weakness they could find, more than eager to kill her in her sleep. Now, she was beyond grateful to spend her days surrounded by her teammates. They aggravated her often, lacked simple cleaning discipline, and she always found herself having to be the one to put out fires - both figurative and literal - but she would never give them up for anything.

Gamora never thought she would experience being in a family again after Thanos kidnapped her. She hardly remembers what it felt like to be a part of one; to be loved and supported and cared for. To mean something to another just because, not because you were a valued weapon. It was difficult for her to accept at first - to trust it. To trust them. But it has gotten easier. What has not gotten easier, though, is sorting through these... feelings that stir deep within her at the sight - or even the thought - of Peter.

No, that has become more difficult with each passing day.

It was an internal struggle, whether or not to fully acknowledge these stirrings. At this point, feelings were beyond mere infatuation. This much she knew, though she didn’t dare admit it out loud. It’s far easier leaving it an unspoken thing - not talking about it, just doing.

Gamora hummed as her eyes slid shut at the thought of doing. She placed the small black brush back down on the stand. Since her acknowledgement of their Unspoken Thing, the dynamic between her and Peter shifted. An increase in stolen glances, subtle grazes of his fingers across her lower back or arm, affectionate smiles... stolen kisses when no one else was around.

The kissing. God, could Peter kiss. Her face flushed with heat as her stomach fluttered.

She quietly groaned while racking a hand through her hair. She flopped backwards onto the bed, legs still dangling off. The last several nights she had found herself in the captain’s quarters, the bold impulse becoming easier to act on each time. She craved his lips against hers, his smell, that dopey smile he always gave her... How much longer could they continue this without discussing it? Peter would surely give in first, needing to vocalize the nature of what they were doing.

Her body ached to be touched and explored by his eager hands and tongue. His eagerness to bring her pleasure was unreal; she has never been treated with such consideration before. In just a few days time, Peter had discovered numerous pleasure spots, always striving to elicit the most wonderful mewls from her, just above the clavicle alone with that hot tongue of his.

A shiver ran through her body, her breathing becoming a little heavy.

Tonight would be no different. She would inevitably give in to her urges and desires, her body already sitting up from the bed, readying for the short trek to his room.

They still hadn’t approached the territory of sex; she has yet to even fully remove her top in front of Peter, but the ache to do so was there. It’s been so long since she was last with another physically; her brow furrowed at the thought. Undoubtedly, it would have been to get closer to a target or merely an unattached encounter to scratch an itch. But Peter was so much more than an itch to be scratched.

Desire pooled hot between her legs at the thought of being intimate with him. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once.

Gamora pushed up from her mattress; it groaned softly at the shift in weight. She wasn’t dressed in anything extravagant - just a deep blue tank and a pair of black sleeping pants, similar to her usual leather leggings but a soft cotton instead. She knew Peter wouldn’t mind - he’s claimed in the past that she could make a brown paper sack look good. She wasn’t entirely sure what he had meant at the time, confused why he would be led to believe she would ever want to wear a sack for clothing. He chuckled, always entertained by her literal interpretations, and explained to her the figure of speech. “I’m say’n you can make anything look good- even those hideous yellow Kyln uniforms.” She had rolled her eyes affectionately, a smile on her lips, keeping the need to blush at his compliment tucked beneath the surface.

She clicked off the light in her room and made her way to the captain’s quarters. Giddiness bubbled in her belly with each step that brought her closer to his door. It was a bit late into the night cycle, but she was certain he would still be awake. This had become their new routine; her joining him in his bed once the ship fell silent, and him always looking a mixture of relieved and unmistakably happy when she returned each night. She didn’t knock - not anymore, quietly sliding the door to the side and slipping into his room.

Once the door was securely closed behind her, her eyes fell upon him immediately. Peter was stretched out on his bed, one arm tucked back behind his head and the other settled on his stomach with his Zune in hand. His gaze was fixed on the skylight window above his bed, a soft glow coming down from it and lathing over him. She smiled, wondering idly what he was thinking about. He looked so at peace.

She approached his side of the bed, alerting him to her presence. He jumped slightly, eyes a bit wide, before he was immediately at ease again. He pulled the buds from his ears and set the Zune down on the side table.

He smiled warmly, “Hey.”

She put a knee on the edge of the bed and swung her other leg to the other side, straddling him in one swift, graceful movement. “Hi.”

His breath hitched at the quick contact, making a conscious effort not to melt into the bed right then and there. He still wasn’t used to the glorious press of her body against his. Frankly, he hoped he would never fully grow accustomed to it, enjoying the jolt of nerves in his stomach the action always evoked. His hands immediately sprung up to her thighs and slowly traveled up to settle on the swell of her hips.

Gamora reached up and grasped the latch of the skylight shade - Peter’s eyes flickered to the now exposed skin of her abdomen; he gently caressed his thumb across the smooth emerald skin. She swiftly pulled the skylight shade closed, snuffing the soft glow in the room, it now completely dark. Her enhanced vision adjusted quickly.

Peter remained silent as she put them in complete darkness. He was well aware of the level of vulnerability that came along with the skylight illuminating them - illuminating her. Exposing every part of her body to him that she was not quite ready to share with him yet.

He would wait.

Peter was more than willing to oblige her needs of hiding in the shadows until she felt more comfortable. Besides, having the opportunity to explore her body solely through touch was nothing he could complain about, taking the time to sear every piece of her into his mind, letting his fingers explore new territory bit by bit, as her walls came down a little more with each passing night they spent in one another’s company.

She dropped her hands down to his hips and slowly slid them up the ripples of his chest, bending down to capture his lips with hers. Peter’s hands snaked around her back, one splayed across her spine, holding her as close to him as he could manage while moaning into the kiss, apparently needing the contact just as much as she did.

Her fingers carded through his sandy curls, lips dropping down to his jaw line, the heat in her belly growing by the second, pushing her further, eager as ever. She felt bolder this evening, her burn for him beginning to become unbearable. Heavy makeout sessions and curious exploration of hands, night after night, with no orgasmic release was becoming something short of painful. Peter rubbed gentle circles over her thin tank into her spine, opening his mouth to Gamora’s explorations, her tongue warm and teeth sharp.

She grazed her nails across his scalp before tugging on a tuft of curls, angling his head back as she shifted lower and nipped at the base of his neck. Peter groaned, hips jerking up reflexively in response. Gamora grinned smugly to herself, pleased with how easily she could make his body jerk to attention for her.

The hand that lay splayed across her spine traveled upward, entangling itself in her long locks - so silky and soft. He nuzzled his nose into the side of her hair, the smell of her dizzying. He brushed her hair to one side, immediately biting and sucking at the newly exposed skin of her neck. Gamora moaned and ground her hips down hard against his in response; a guttural sound escaped from deep within Peter’s throat. It took everything in him to not mindlessly rut up against her, fearful he might actually come then and there in his pants.

His fingers danced at the hem of her tank momentarily - new territory that had yet to be ventured - before disappearing underneath it. Her skin was so smooth, so warm. He worked to store every inch of her body to memory. Gamora hummed at the new skin-on-skin contact and pressed her body even closer to Peter’s, desperate for more of his warmth, his smell, his touch. Unbelievable, it was, that she had denied herself of this for so long - of the fire building deep within their cores, the reverent touches.

Peter’s hands traveled further up her back, taking in every bit of her. His fingers lightly grazed up her spine, eliciting a shuddered from her. Midway up her back, he felt grooves in her skin that followed up her spine to the nape of her neck. His fingers pressed curiously, exploring them-

Gamora tore her lips away from Peter and sat up abruptly. In the same second, she snatched his hands away from her body with a firm grasp.

“Don’t,” she warned.

“I- uh- sorry,” Peter’s mind was still clouded from her lips moving against his just seconds earlier. His mouth gaped slightly as he struggled to collect his thoughts and process the abrupt change in her mood. “I’m sorry,” his tone sincere.

Gamora released his hands and sighed heavily. He let his hands fall to the mattress, unsure if he should or could touch her. He searched her face for any indication of her offering an explanation of what just happened, eyes having adjusted to the darkness at this point.

“Gamora... I’m sorry- I- were those more scars... from your mods?”

She gave him an icy stare and recoiled from him further; well, as much as was possible while still straddling his hips. Peter took her reaction as a ‘yes.’

“Mora- I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have.” His jade eyes were harrowing, willing her to believe him, to know he wouldn’t intentionally do anything to bring her discomfort. He knew from past conversations that Gamora held a level of animosity towards the scars left on her face from Thanos, ashamed of what they symbolized. He felt foolish having never considered the possibility of there being more. More reminders etched into her body permanently. A daily reminder of what she’s done, of what he made her into.

His chest tightened with an ache for her. If only he could take all of that pain from her now; wrap her up in his arms forever and shield her from all the bad and hurt - make her see just how good she truly was. Gamora sat silently and glared at the headboard above him.

“Please don’t be embarrassed or ashamed, Mora. You know I would never think any less of you, no matter how many scars you have. I couldn’t. ...You don’t have to hide from me.”

He watched her face darken - this was difficult for her, he knew. Her internal conflict was blatantly evident. It was typical of Gamora to maintain a level of composure around the others, secrets and thoughts neatly hidden behind a neutral expression. With Peter, though, she was opening up more, allowing her emotions to show more freely. But now she was shutting him out again and although he understood, it still stung.

He struggled with what was best to do next, not wanting to further drive her away but not wanting to let her go either. Panic crawled up through his chest, worried they had just severely backpedaled on the progress they've been making with one another.

He reached a hand out, hesitating a moment to gauge her reaction, then cupped the side of her face. So beautiful, how could she not see it? His thumb brushed one of the silver scars, and her entire body tensed. She scrambled off him in a blur, planting both feet on the cool floor. Peter swung his legs over the edge of the bed into a sitting position just as quick, a hand outstretched to grasp her wrist.

“Gamora, please... Don’t leave. Can we just- can we talk about this?” His voice anguished and panicked.

“Let me go, Peter.” Her eyes remained on the floor, unable to look at the defeated expression that was sure to occupy his features. Bringing him disappointment and distress was bound to happen, she knew. She wasn’t good for him.

Peter was conflicted between obliging to her and holding on for dear life, not wanting to watch her walk out that door. His grip tightened a second before releasing her wrist. “Please stay. We can- let’s talk about this. I- you’re perfect as you are, I swear to god you are. You-”

She spun around, an underlying danger in her eyes. “Stop! I am not perfect.” Her voice weakened, “I am nothing good for you, Peter.”

His stomach dropped as a cold chill spread through him at the implications of her words. His eyes widened, mouth agape, utterly stunned she could think such a thing. “Gamora, you are everything that’s good.” He reached a hand out, his voice barely above a whisper, “Please.”

Gamora closed her eyes and shook her head solemnly. Without another word she slipped out of his room, the door softly clicking into place behind her. Peter dropped his head into his hands with a curse. Tears pricked the back of his eyes.

The room suddenly felt empty and cold without her in it.

***

Gamora’s face felt hot and her vision blurred with unwelcome tears. She closed her eyes while simultaneously slamming a fist down onto the mattress she was laying on. Her mattress. She hasn’t slept in her own room in over a week. Already, in such a short amount of time, her own room was losing that sense of solace it once held. Part of her yearned to run back to Peter’s bed, back into his arms, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to soothe her.

This realization flared anger within her. She didn’t need to be soothed by anyone. This was her fault. She indulged in her weakness that is Peter, knowing full and well she couldn’t offer him what he needed. It was doomed from the start.

Gamora attempted to will herself to sleep but her thoughts returned to Peter without fail, taunting her with what she couldn’t have. A frustrated huff escaped her lips and she pushed herself out of bed. She quickly discarded her sleeping tank and pulled on a sports bra and one of her workout tops. Pent up sexual frustration on top of emotional turmoil and anger that simmered just beneath her skin had her wound tight. She needed to punch something, hard, and repeatedly. Swiftly and silently, she made her way down to the workout space, hoping several rounds with the punching bag would work out her frustrations.

***

The following morning unfolded about how Peter expected it to. Gamora was a no-show at breakfast and when they later ran into one another in the cargo bay, she avoided eye contact and quickly escaped down the hall, leaving him to stand there dejected. He wanted nothing more than to seek her out, hold her close, and tell her over and over how perfect she was; how good. That everything would be ok, that they would be ok.

Peter sighed. As much as he wanted to do that, he’d wait; allow her to come to him in her own time.

***

Gamora hid out in her room for the rest of the day. Soon the ship switched into the night cycle and her room grew dark. She made no move to switch on the overhead light. Quiet darkness settled around her as she stared up at the ceiling. Countless nights were spent like this on a cold cement floor of a cell during her time inhabiting the Sanctuary. She didn’t dare close her eyes then, refusing to fall prey to the inevitable ambush of one of her ‘siblings’. It was almost comical, the irony of the one place she felt the most unsafe in being called a sanctuary.

She’d never found true sanctuary in anything since the day she was kidnapped from her home.

Well, up until a couple months ago. Her eyes slid close. Peter. He’d become her sanctuary, where she could truly feel safe to be herself. The corners of her mouth curved into a frown and her brows furrowed a bit. Then why was it so hard to be vulnerable with him last night? To allow him to accept her and her scars? He clearly did already.

Vulnerability is weakness, little one. The weak never survive. Gamora flinched at how clear his voice echoed around her. She pressed the heel of her palms against her eyes, face scrunched up tight, trying to force his voice out of her head.

How is it he still lingered within her? He’s taken and taken and taken from her over the years. She’d finally managed to escape from his hold, and yet he was still taking. Getting into her head, poisoning the potential happiness attempting to blossom in her life. Happiness she could have with Peter.

Gamora opened her eyes and racked her fingers through her hair.

Happiness with Peter. Her chest tightened at the thought; she wanted it badly. Happiness, let alone with another person, was never a possibility she allowed herself to entertain. Thanos never allowed her or Nebula to believe they were capable of happiness and love, let alone being on the receiving end of them. As long as she continued to entertain this idea, he still had the power to take from her.

A surge of nervous adrenaline coursed through her as she sat up abruptly. Thanos wasn’t through with her; she knew this much. He was biding his time, and eventually he’d be back to take some more. She knew this - that her presence brought inevitable danger to those around her, the Guardians, her family. They knew this, too, yet still chose to stand by her and face whatever was bound to come down the line. For now, though, she could take back control with her newfound freedom.

She had no idea where a future with Peter would lead or what it would look like, but she’d never know if she didn’t even try. Without a second thought, Gamora pushed herself off the bed and padded towards Peter’s room before she could talk herself out of it. Arriving only moments later, she hesitated at the door, unsure whether she should knock or not after the way she left things the night before. Her small hand formed a fist and softly rapped against the cool metal of the door.

There was shuffling on the other side of the door before it slid open. Gamora twinged with guilt as she took in the sight of Peter. She pondered if he never ended up going to sleep the night before, the bags under his eyes darkened and his lids heavy and slightly red-rimmed. Nonetheless, a small smile touched his lips. Her heart skipped; he was too good.

He stepped aside, allowing her entrance. She quietly strode the few feet to his bed and climbed in, situating herself against the headboard, legs outstretched and her hands fidgeting in her lap. Peter silently crawled into bed next to her, leaning back against the headboard as well. They sat in silence for several minutes before Gamora finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have just fled... I-” she abruptly stopped, unsure of how to put into words the mess of thoughts and feelings roaring within her.

Peter rolled his head to the right towards her and spoke softly, “It’s okay. You’re here now.” He hesitated a moment, “... I’m sorry, too, ya know. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Promise. I- I never want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”

Gamora shifted her gaze to meet his, “I know.” He gave a small smile and nod.

She took a deep breath as her eyes fell back at the wall in front of her. “My scars... they are a daily reminder of what Thanos has made me into. A reminder of the hundreds upon hundreds of innocent lives I was able to take so easily because of the cybernetic enhancements. I was made to be a weapon, Peter. A monster.” She inhaled a shaky breath, “I don’t understand how they could be viewed as anything other than disgusting… they symbolize something so ugly and unfathomably horrible.”

Peter placed his large hand over her fidgeting ones, curling his fingers around hers. “You are not a monster. You were forced into that life by that asshole. You were just trying to survive, Mora.” He squeezed her hand with a gentle firmness. “You’re not that person. You have so much good in your heart.”

She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, and his heart clenched at how fragile she looked. “Oh, Mora...” his voice shaky as he gathered her in his arms and pulled her close. She sunk into the comfort of his embrace and pressed her face into his chest, hot tears slipping down her cheeks and seeping into the cotton of his shirt.

Gamora would never forget the horrendous acts she committed in her past. She didn’t want to. But maybe she could learn to see herself the way Peter sees her. Accept the notion that she is a good person. Finally begin to let go of the debilitating, self-deprecating beliefs Thanos had instilled into her mind for nearly two decades. Take back control of her own life, her own mind.

Gamora shifted in Peter’s embrace until she was seated in his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly - he responded in kind. She found the pressure soothing. She whispered a muffled “thank you” against his neck.

Peter rubbed soft circles into her back in an attempt to comfort her. He pressed a kiss to her temple and then continued to just hold her. Silence fell around them, save for her soft sniffles here and there as her body worked to return to a calm state. Finally allowing herself to be comforted by someone felt… nice. Peter’s arms around her also felt nice. She burrowed herself further into him. A smile touched his lips and he tightened his hold on her.

“I don’t deserve you, you know.”

Peter’s smile fell and his brows pulled together. He gently lifted her face and peered into those gorgeous, sad brown eyes of hers. “Oh, baby girl, I’m exactly what you deserve.”

Gamora’s chest and throat tightened once more with emotion that threatened to burst out of her. How had this ridiculously annoying, infuriating, sweet, and charming man find his way into her heart so easily?

Her small hands settled on either side of his face, her piercing gaze burning through him. “I truly hope you know that I haven’t allowed us to be fully intimate not because I don’t desire you… but because I’m scared- scared of exposing everything I try in vain to keep hidden; scared of my scars and past tainting your view of me.”

Peter pulled her closer, if that were even possible, and kissed her fervently, desperate for her to feel just how unaffected his desire and love for her was. His lips worked against hers hungrily as a hand carded through her hair. Nothing mattered more in that moment than to ensure she felt loved and worthy and beautiful. He would work to ensure she felt so every single day until his last breath if she’d let him.

This was it. She was it; the sun at the center of his universe.

Peter’s tongue grazed the seam of her lips. She immediately granted him access, eager to have as much of him as she could. Hands explored and grasped with a growing urgency. Breaking the kiss momentarily, she ridded him of his shirt and then her lips were back on his once more, the drive to touch anywhere and everywhere unbearably strong.

It wasn’t enough.

She needed more.

Peter’s muscles flexed under her touch as her hands ran up his chest, the hairs on his arms raising as she dragged them back down, the blunt edge of her nails leaving pink streaks in their wake. Peter sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit lightly. A moan sounded from the back of her throat, hot arousal shooting to the apex of her thighs. Her mind was clouded with desire and her body felt so light she’s sure she would float away if it weren’t for Peter’s arms wrapped so tightly around her.

His hands inched down her waist and over her hips until they stretched over the curve of her ass. Without a thought, he impulsively gripped tightly and pressed her weight down while thrusting his hips up, connecting their centers. Oh, that glorious friction. Drawn out groans mingled in the air between their lips. She gave him a small smile then a gentle kiss before pulling back. Peter watched her while lazily rubbing his thumbs up and down her hip bones through the thin fabric of her sleep pants.

It’s now or never, Gamora.

She inhaled deeply - holding it for a moment - then slowly exhaled. Gently scooting back a few inches, she sat further down on his thighs. Peter’s eyes followed her movements, curious and a little unsure. She offered a small smile of reassurance as she lifted a hand and lightly ran her fingers across his flushed cheek. They lingered on his skin for only a moment before her hand continued its journey above her head. A jolt of nerves rushed through her body as her fingers made contact with a small handle. She slowly slid the skylight shade open and soft starlight poured into the room.

Peter’s chest tightened, awestruck and watching her. She was choosing to trust him in this moment, putting her heart and insecurities into his hands, baring her body to him. Tears threatened to well at this momentous gesture.

Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenalin causing her hands to tremble on their descent to the hem of her tank. Eyes closed, she drew in a long, slow breath, then slowly opened them again, exhaling as they met Peter’s. She paused momentarily, offering him a shy smile, before lifting the tank up over her head and dropping it over the edge of the bed. Her chest rose and fell with each quick, nervous breath she took - Peter’s breath halted entirely.

Her body blazed afire wherever his gaze fell, roaming over the newly exposed skin. Shame and anxiousness began to slowly ebb; she had never been looked at like this in her life - so much adoration and love pouring from his eyes alone. He was looking at her as if she’d personally strung up the very stars that were now glowing down upon them. The building pressure in her chest threatened to burst as tears began to well in her eyes, her hands trembling with the onslaught of emotion she was unfamiliar with experiencing. Although perfect was far from anything she would consider herself being… something about the way he looked at her made her feel pretty damn close.

His eyes silently asked permission; she granted it with a nod. His thumbs, featherlight, skimmed underneath the curves of her breast. He smiled as her body shivered beneath his touch. She gently bit her bottom lip as his hands traveled downward, lightly tracing the silver scars engraved in the skin over her ribs. His fingers fell to a puckered scar on the left side of her lower abdomen - it lacked the surgical precision of her silver ones. Peter idly wondered how she might have gotten it before his attention was pulled back to the exploration of her body. Several other puckered and jagged scars littered her belly and sides - he took his time attending to each of them, attempting to draw out all the pain they held with a tender touch.

He embraced her, feathering kisses on her temple, her cheek, across her jawline, at the base of her neck, across her shoulder. She shuddered under his lips, arching into his touch. One hand found purchase on her hip, the other cupping her face as his thumb ghosted across her cheek. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes while he spoke, his voice filled with reverence. “Your scars are beautiful. Your heart is beautiful - your soul. Every part of you is beautiful, Gamora. You are everything good.” His sincerity nearly wrecked her.

She felt so much in that moment. All the things she wanted to express to him bubbled on the tip of her tongue but wouldn’t quite come out. So she kissed him - hard - hoping that everything she could not yet vocalize would be communicated through her physical affection. She felt the push of his body and succumbed to it, allowing him to lay her back onto the mattress, easing his weight on top of her. Gamora suppressed a moan at the feel of his body pressed so closely against hers.

Her hands rubbed up the thick muscles of his back as they rippled and flexed beneath her touch. Peter gave her a warm smile then dipped his head to capture her swollen lips once more, the kisses soft and languid. She drew a leg up along his side and hooked her foot behind his thigh, pulling him closer, his arousal brushing against her lower belly; he choked out a groan at the contact. Her body ached to be touched, but it was evident he was moving things slowly for her sake. She pushed up against the stiff bulge in his pants once more in an attempt to relay her intentions.

“Peter… more.” Her voice was low and rugged, unfamiliar to her ears.

She tipped her head to the side as he kissed her jaw, her ear, down her neck, her breaths coming faster as his mouth found her breasts. She hummed appreciatively and arched into him when his mouth closed around her nipple. She threaded her fingers through his curls and gripped. His hand cupped her other breast, running his thumb in circles as his tongue flicked and swirled in turn.

Gamora tugged gently on his hair, pulling his face back up to hers and locking their lips in a searing kiss. Her hands pushed at the waistband of his sweatpants. Registering her intent, he kicked off the unwanted garment and settled back on his haunches, his evident arousal straining against his boxer briefs. Her eyes settled on the large bulge momentarily before she raised a tentative hand towards it. Peter gently caught her hand and lifted it, feathering kisses across her knuckles. “Not yet, baby. You first.”

Her heart pounded as his eyes roamed her body, eventually settling on the waistband of her sleeping pants. She lifted her hips off the bed signaling her permission. He hooked his fingers inside the waistband of both her pants and her panties and slid them slowly down her legs, agonizingly so. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, body brimming with anticipation as his eyes swept across the expanse of her taut skin and toned muscle now visible to him. He shook his head softly, logging every inch of her into his mind. “Gorgeous.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes bashfully, unsure of how else to respond.

He gave her a knowing smirk before leaning down to kiss her. He shifted and trailed open mouth kisses down her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach, tongue dipping in her navel, teeth grazing her hipbone. Her scent and the sound of her moans and whimpers were intoxicating, maddening.

Peter looked up at her through hooded eyes, “Can I touch you?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice. The ability to form any coherent thoughts quickly dissipated as his fingers ghosted up the inside of her thigh. Her body was hot and tingly, filled to the brim with anticipation for his touch. His thumb grazed up and down the inner crease of her thigh. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped from her lips; it was too much and not enough all at once.

Gamora gasped as he glided a finger through her wet folds, then a second. She was warm and slick against his fingers; he moaned, his desire for her only intensifying. She arched against him in response, head thrown back against the mattress, breaths quick and uneven. Peter gently rubbed light circles while enjoying the sounds emanating from her lips. He slipped a finger into her, then a second - her delicious moans growing louder. After a few thrusts of his fingers his tongue found her clit and her hips jerked upward. Hot pleasure pulsed in her core as her body writhed beneath his ministrations. This sensation was unlike anything she’s ever felt before.

Gamora moved against his hand and mouth, chasing after the building pressure in her lower abdomen. She squeezed her eyes shut, sheets fisted in one hand and a handful of Peter’s curls in the other. Her body arched and her moan choked off into a higher pitched cry towards the ceiling as his fingers flexed upward and hit her sweet spot.

“God, yes- right there,” she panted, “right there… Peter…”

White hot pleasure exploded throughout her body. Peter continued to pump into her as her walls clenched around his digits, helping her ride out her orgasm for as long as possible. Her fingers were woven through his hair, holding his mouth against her maybe a little too tight, but he didn’t show any sign of discomfort and she couldn’t bring herself to let him go just yet.

The waves of pleasure slowly pulsed through her limbs, leaving her feeling limp, her hand finally falling away from his head. Her eyes slowly opened and refocused on Peter as he sat back on his haunches and sucked her juices from his fingers. That sight alone sent another jolt of arousal straight through her. He leaned over her and kissed her tenderly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could taste herself on his tongue, surprised by how much she liked it.

The weight of his body over hers was absolute bliss. Her slender fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and tugged at them - she wanted to feel all of him against her. He pulled back momentarily to kick off the last item to separate them.

Freed and pressing between her legs, Peter settled back over her, kissing her deeply. Sliding one arm behind her shoulders and the other around her waist, he lifted her up from the bed and held her close as he shifted back to rest against the pillows and headboard.

Gamora melted into him, holding his body close to hers, never breaking their kiss. Now seated astride his hips, she felt his hard erection pressed against her lower belly, hot and swollen, trapped between their bodies. Her fingers worked into his hair, nails scraping at the nape of his neck in a way she’s learned he loves while the other hand traveled downward and wrapped around his thick shaft. She swallowed his groan as his body trembled and bucked into her hand.

Her head lolled back and to the side, breaking their kiss as his large hands smoothed over the curve of her ass and began a slow, sinful caress of her skin. His lips trailed down her neck, tasting and teasing, coaxing from her gasps and moans that made him weak.

“Peter, please...”

Anything. He would do absolutely anything for her; give her anything. His hands glided down her thighs and then back up, settling lightly on her hips as she rose on her knees. Gently, he guided her back by her hips but didn’t apply any pressure - only a thumb traced lightly across a scar just above her hip bone, giving her full control. She steadied herself with one hand on his shoulder while the other guided him towards her entrance, both of them humming in unison as his tip slid against her hot, wet folds.

This was exactly what she wanted. No, needed; to feel him inside her, filling her, moving in her. She eased down on him inch by inch until he was sheathed in her completely. Peter held her in place for a moment, a whimper escaping from his lips. Nothing has ever felt so divine.

He pressed an open mouth kiss to her shoulder then murmured against her skin, “You’re perfect, Mora.” He pressed a kiss against her temple. “So perfect.”

Her fingers threaded through his curls and guided his lips towards hers as she lifted her hips and slid back down again. Never has she felt so full, so completed in her life - both physically and emotionally. Nothing outside of this moment existed. Their bodies moved together in perfect tandem, feeling so right, as if they were solely made for this, for each other.

Gasps and moans and whispers of sweet nothings filled the room. She was so close. Her vision blurred and the pressure in her abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

His arm tightened around her waist, holding her in place as he thrusted hard up into her heat, no trace of decorum left between them. His fingers dug into her skin, only intensifying her ache for him. He slammed into her again and again. His breath hitched and a drawn out groan sounded from his lips as her walls began to tighten around him.

Gamora swore she could see stars as hot pleasure rolled through her in waves. Peter’s eyes remained glued on her face, soaking her up as she came undone; to miss even a second of it was unacceptable. He watched her with an appreciation that bordered religious.

Her hips rocked against his, riding out the final pulses of pleasure stemming from her belly to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her skin glistened with perspiration and a dazed smile was on her lips as she began to come down from her high, her eyes refocusing on his.

He leaned forward and placed a tender kiss to her lips, then nipped at her earlobe before whispering against the shell of her ear, “You’re gorgeous when you come.” Her cheeks flushed at his words and her skin pricked from his hot breath against her ear.

His breath hitched as she shifted on his lap and gripped him inside her; her smile turned smug. Their lips crashed together passionately and a little painful, but the sting of teeth was quickly drowned out by the pleasure as their bodies moved together once more. The arm around her waist pulled her impossibly close, her nipples hardened and pressed against his chest, while his other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck.

With his feet pressed flat against the bed, he thrusted up into her hard and fast while slamming her hips down simultaneously, his fingers digging into her skin harshly. She whimpered into his mouth, overly sensitive and nerves fried. Yet her body responded to his as the ache between her legs grew and the heat in the pit of her belly flared.

“Peter... oh god...”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and nuzzled her hair against her neck. “Mora... fuck-”

His fingers found her clit and rubbed roughly as hips stuttered against hers. The added sensation to her already sensitive bud dragged her over the edge a final time, pulling Peter along with her. A drawn out groan fell from his lips as he came undone, throbbing deep inside her, the warm flood of his release filling her. Her voice echoed throughout the room as her head fell back, too blissed out in that moment to care whether or not the others could hear them.

Gamora collapsed against his chest, feeling boneless and relaxed, their bodies sweaty and hot. She buried her face in the curve of his neck and pressed a light kiss to his damp skin. He held her and murmured sweet nothings in her ear, so content and happy to have this incredible woman in his arms.

The light drag of his fingers tracing up and down the scars along her spine and the now steady rhythm of his heart nearly lulled her to sleep. It was peaceful being with Peter like this. He made her feel safe. Loved. She reveled in the calm and comfort his touches brought, no longer wanting to recoil and hide from them.

Peter held her just a moment longer before slipping out of her and shuffling down the bed to lay on his back. With his arm securely wrapped around her, Gamora shifted with him and curled into his chest, one leg draped between his. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and breathed in the soft scent of her hair.

“Thank you.” Her voice barely above a whisper cut through the silence of the room.

He dipped his head in attempt to better see her face. “What for?”

She pressed a soft kiss to his chest before leaning back a little to meet his jade eyes, gently ghosting her fingers along his jaw. Her smile was soft and her eyes began to prick with tears from the emotions welling up in her chest; she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. “Just... for everything.”

She was quiet a moment, lost in her own thoughts. “You make me feel like I’m enough- me, Gamora. Not me, deadly assassin- j-just some favorite toy or weapon. And I-” her voice cracked, and she ducked her head while blinking back tears.

Peter rubbed soothing circles into her back and gingerly lifted her face back up to his, his other hand cradling her cheek. He kissed her with fervor, pushing her back against the bed so his large body hovered over her small frame. He peppered her with kisses - on her cheeks, temple, forehead, eyelids, the tip of her nose; an involuntary smile stretched across her lips. Happiness buzzed through her like electricity as her arms wrapped around his neck and back to hold him close. She’d never be in need of anything ever again as long as he was in her arms, and she in his.

His jade eyes bored into her dark ones. There was that look again - the look as if she had personally strung up the very stars twinkling above them, gracing the galaxy with starlight. His thumb brushed across her cheekbone.

“I love you, Mora,” his voice reverent, “so damn much.”

A whirlwind of emotions flooded her in an onslaught. Mantis had, as Peter would say, spilled the beans already. But hearing the words come from him directly, his voice raw with emotion, made her want to melt into the mattress and kiss him senselessly. A slight tinge if underlying fear was there - she couldn’t deny it. Fear to have something this good in her life, knowing how much greater the risk in losing it was... to have it taken.

Above all, though, warmth and adoration and her own love for him overpowered everything else. Yes, she loved him... for a while now, she thought. This could be her life now - a happy one shared with Peter; one filled with love and kindness and trust. She wanted to take that step, bringing her a little closer to what she once thought completely unattainable and away from a life where the only things she knew were pain, fear, rage, obedience, manipulation...

Her gaze met his with an intensity, willing him to understand just how important this moment was to her, how much trust she was putting in him to hand over her battered heart for him to keep and protect.

“I love you, too... more than anything,” her voice soft but firm and sure.

His face lit up with an arresting grin that simultaneously sent chills down her spine and warmed her heart. He lowered his lips back to hers, giving her everything he had.

She was his, and he was hers.

[avengers-nextgen]

Noctis IV

The power had gone out later that night. Alex had finally gone back to sleep when everything stilled. There was no gentle whir of fan blades, the hum of a nearby clock, or even the indication of a hall light being on. After a moment, the sound of feet shuffling across the floor outside greeted Sage’s ears. Then the noise stopped. The door was eased open and a flash light beam darted inside.

“Guess the power’s off for everyone,” James frowned, looking like he was still half asleep.

“What’s going on?” Alex groaned, sitting up to see her brother standing in the doorway half naked. “James? What happened to your clothes? It’s morning isn’t it?”

“Not a chance,” James snorted, “power went out.”

His remark was harmless in nature but Alex made some form of a gagging noise. She’d paled.

“Did anything seem off?” Sage asked, eyeing Alex wearily.

“No, why?” James frowned. He stiffened as the sorceress approached him. She leaned in close so only he could hear.

“Alex says Prom-well, you know. She says he’s back. I don’t know how but she woke up in a panic. Salem was acting funny too. Like he could sense something.” As Sage spoke, James’ expression hardened.

“So what do we do?”

“That’s what I thought you would know,” Sage hissed, sparing Alex a brief glance. “I mean, it could be nothing.”

“Nothing is never nothing around here,” James grumbled, turning on his heel. “I’m going to do a head count. I’ll be back.”

— — —

Nathaniel woke to the sound of a door creaking open. He normally slept the night away undisturbed, but with all that was going on he was as light a sleeper as the trained assassins he lived with.

Propping himself up onto his elbow, he scanned the crowded room. His entire family had managed to fit into the relatively large space and none of them appeared to be awake. Nathaniel had found comfort in their numbers, and their proximity, but something was off.

Getting carefully to his feet, he ventured about the room trying not to step on any limbs. The adjoining room’s door was always cracked, Ellie slept there, but now it’d been swung open. Peeking inside, Nathaniel expected to see Salem meandering about but he found nothing. No cat, and no infant.

Heart leaping into his throat, he turned and ran back through the overstuffed bedroom not caring if he stepped on anyone.

Cries of pain and anger followed his sporadic sprint, but Nathaniel was terrified. Tearing down the hallway, the eldest boy nearly flattened James like a pancake.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ellie’s missing. She’s not in her crib!” Nathaniel panted. James’ eyes went wide and he too began to run. Only, unlike Nathaniel, James was trying to wake everyone up.

Feet pounding against the ground, Nathaniel knocked open every door only to find that Ellie wasn’t there.

It wasn’t until he stumbled into the living room that he saw her.

“Shhhh. We don’t want to wake her,” Crowed a familiar voice. “They’re always so cute when they sleep. Don’t you think?”

“Put her down!” Nathaniel snarled.

“Oh, you don’t get to make the orders,” Prometheus cooed, “you’re in no point of power. Weaponless, and suit less. What are you, but a man?”

Hands balled into white knuckled fists, Nathaniel tried to find something he could use to his advantage. He was alone across the room while a maniac held his niece. It seemed hopeless until the area behind Prometheus erupted in a ring of sizzling light.

Nathaniel was vaguely aware of Chloe knocking Prometheus aside while Penny shifted into view snatching Ellie away.

“Arthur,” Penny called, passing the sleeping girl off to the second Strange to emerge.

Though it was a temporary win, Prometheus melted into darkness like before. Only this time, he didn’t emerge alone. From the shadows crept snarling beasts. Their teeth were white along with their eyes, razor black nails scratched upon the floor, and the hunched over forms resembled horribly mangled dogs.

“Arthur, time to go!” Chloe reminded, as they all broke out of their stunned surprise. To his credit, Arthur tried to run, but the monsters were seemingly everywhere.

“I don’t wanna die playing baby keep away!” He shrieked, nearly losing a calf.

Before another attack fell upon him, bright bursts of red knocked the shadowy beasts over like bowling pins. Scout and his mother had come in the nick of time.

“Are they only in this room?” Vision asked, flying past.

No one got a chance to answer his question when the floor exploded upwards and a gleaming suit slammed into the ceiling

“Owww,” Tony groaned, “I hate big ink cats.”

“Big ink wha-OH MY GOD!” Penny yelled, as a massive head emerged from the crater sized hole. It was the ugliest looking saber tooth cat demon she’d ever seen.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe blasted the monster in the face and Scout followed suite along with his mother.

“Nathaniel, go check on the others. Make sure Arthur’s okay!” Wanda instructed.

With a nod, Nathaniel sprinted off once more. He wasn’t sure where everyone was or how they were going to manage a cat demon but he was only concerned about his family at the moment. Halfway down another hallway, the archer came down hard on his back.

Prometheus stood above him, having appeared just to block his path. “Now look what kind of mess you’ve made. This could have been much simpler.”

“You-fucker!” Nathaniel wheezed, as Prometheus stooped down to collect the fallen warrior.

“What to do with you,” Prometheus mused. “Oh, I know.”

“Put my baby brother down!”

Nathaniel was dropped like a sack of potatoes. Heat washed over him and the smell of something ghastly hit his nose. Burning?

Squinting through the small fire, Nathaniel spotted Cooper wielding his bow.

“Thanks.”

“You should have the explosive ones labeled,” Cooper smirked, going to help his brother stand. There was a fire in his eyes that Nathaniel hadn’t seen in a while. His protective nature shining through. “Mom’s got Ellie and Dad’s keeping watch. For now we need to handle the rest of this mess.”

“My bow?” Nathaniel breathed.

“Right, here.” Cooper passed over the weapon and gestured for Nathaniel to take the lead.

— — —

“I hate cats!” Valkyrie growled, as the weirdly humanoid paw of the cat clutched her by the ankles and hung her upside down.

“Hey!” Siyanda protested, also dangling by her feet.

“You’re not an actual cat!”

“Both of you shut up!” Loki hissed, appearing mid air and lashing out at the demonic hand. Both girls went tumbling to the ground in a heap along with the weird gelatin hunk of meat.

“Fry it!” Tony ordered, racing by and collecting those he could off the ground. Thor struck his hammer against the beast’s leg sending lightning straight through its system. The smell was horrible, and the blackness momentarily retreated, but the creature seemed to sense its defeat. In a desperate move it disintegrated completely into a sticky, gooey, rain.

“This reminds me of Scooby Do,” Piper noted.

“Not the time,” Thor huffed, trying to wipe the black substance from his body.

— — —

“If we cut it, it only grows back,” Drew frowned.

“Like a hydra,” Orion nodded.

“A what?” Fox cried, firing a few more rounds. She’d given up on her knives ages ago.

“Scout knows the myth better than I do. Cut one head off two more grow back. He says you have to burn where you cut. That much I remember,” Orion explained, avoiding the lizard things tail. They were stuck on the bottom floor.

“Anyone got fire?” Maria asked hopefully.

“I do,” Enzo assured, his hands glowing with golden flames.

“Great, lets hack this son of a bitch up,” Maria grinned.

“Now, that is my language!” Drax bellowed, all too happy to go and stab the thing. Drew followed suit.

— — —

All around the tower, chaos unfolded. The structure’s defenses had gone out with the power. Tony had been inspecting the back up generator, unsure why it wasn’t working, when all hell broke loose.

Frankly, he wasn’t too surprised, but then again...he’d seen enough of this shit to know what was up.

“Guys?!” Harper called, her voice sounding particularly panicked.

“What is it Harpsichord?” He asked, turning to face her.

“The others are stuck!”

Confusion was the first thing that hit him, but with the demon cat gone for now, he followed the panicked teen. What he wasn’t prepared for were the statues. Well, not exactly.

No, these were the forms of his friends and family but they were encased in some writhing black goo. There was Pepper, Salem, Steve, Bucky, Alex, and Bianca. All of whom were mid fight when this had happened.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Tony breathed. “That’s not good. Not good at all.”

“I tried to get them out but that stuff is like rock. But it’s alive. It doesn’t make any sense,” Harper explained.

“Stand back,” Tony warmed, eyeing some writing tendrils in the floor. “I think it’s spreading.”

“Are they alive?” Harper worried.

“My suit shows vitals,” Tony assured. “But other than that I don’t know what’s happening,”

“This is different than the last time isn’t it?” Harper frowned. “The others were telling me stories.”

“Honey, this is last time on steroids. Hopefully no one gets an aneurysm,” Tony looked grimly at the hallway. “Hang tight guys.”

Harper watched the genius rush off with worry etched on his face. She nearly stayed to keep an eye on them when something rigged at her shoe. The weird tendrils were inching towards her. With a disgusted shiver she turned and ran.

[iheartbuckynat]

Infinity War Spoilers (I need to vent and word-vomit and I have SO MANY EMOTIONS)

Random thoughts and a ton of spoilers...

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Who is/going to be permanently dead:

I’m actually only worried for the following characters: Heimdall, Loki and Vision. Gamora will quite clearly be one of the central figures to bring about Thanos’ demise since they’ve suggested pretty heavily that she’s trapped in the Soul Stone. Also, they can’t make a GotG 3 without her (and of course they’ll make a 3rd one). Plus it goes a long way to explain/lessen their use of the whole ‘kill a woman for all the man-pain’ trope, which would be kinda terrible if that really was the true plan (and I don’t think the Russos would stoop to quite that level). So yeah, Gamora will be fine.

Shuri might fix Vision, but like Jarvis and Groot whose successors are different people, I doubt Vision will be completely the same. Who knows, maybe Shuri did something to download his memories/personality? (One can only hope!)

Loki’s growth throughout the MCU has been huge and he’s now gone full circle: from hero to villain to anti-hero back to hero. He repaired his relationship with Thor, but he killed people in the past and so he has a lot to answer for, plus there’s no plot-driven need to bring him back, his death is good revenge-fuel for Thor (even though a 3rd fake death might be nice and in keeping with who Loki is - the trickster who always gets away - they did really hammer home in the movie that this was for real... doth Thor hammer it home a little too much, though? Mayhap. Or maybe I’m just being naïvely hopeful). Heimdall, as beloved as he is, is a secondary character. Unless they bring ALL of Asgard back - which would be nice, since Thor could kind of go there and rule a less colonial-like version of it for the rest of his days after they defeat Thanos (he’s obviously not going to stay on Earth since Hemsworth’s contract is up), but I don’t know. It would be kind of cruel to erase everything Waititi did in Ragnarok (or maybe that’s why he was able to have so much fun? Because he knew that IW was going to need a destroyed Asguard to work? So he had a lot of freedom to play?)

Those 4 were the only ones not ‘snap’ killed (aside from the Asgardians on the ship - and, yeah, they better not have killed off Valkeryie! I am hoping she’ll turn up in A4? Thanos only killed half of all the Asgardians so I’m thinking she took the survivors to get away when Thanos let them go, and that when they’re safe she’ll come back? Maybe even with Sif? (Doubtful, though)).

As a lot of other people have mentioned, Captain Marvel is in the 90s and there have been rumours of time travel. Those who were snap killed will certainly return so I’m not worried about any of those deaths... But I love Heimdall and Loki, and I’d feel bad for Wanda if Vision didn’t come back.

I hope they do bring them back.

I hope Valkyrie escaped with Korg and some of the others and is keeping them safe on some random planet. T_T

I’m also a little worried for Steve, Thor and Tony, although since they pulled a semi-‘gotcha’ with Tony looking like he was certainly going to die only to survive, and with all their mentions of a wedding and kids, I think they’re done with the ‘is Tony going to die’ drama and just have him retire. It’s been 3 Iron Mans, 2 Avengers and a Captain America of Pepper/Tony angst. CACW was the full break-up drama, and for the past 2 films, Pepper and Tony have been happy. They’re not going leave them in a bad place. It’s a superhero movie, and to paraphrase Deadpool, I doubt they’ll go DC-dark.

Hopefully they’ll let Steve retire too, but that tweet about Buckycap from the Russo brothers could go 3 ways (retired Steve leaves it to Bucky; dead Steve inspires Bucky to become Cap; or the Russos were faking it - they did lie to us via the trailers, they had fake scripts etc so it’s not impossible) so honestly, I don’t know. They might have to kill off Steve. I don’t want that. Let Steve rest. And it might just be plausible for him to do that after he meets Captain Marvel. She and the new generation of Avengers could give him enough peace of mind to let him retire.

I don’t think Thor’s going to die. They just spent this whole movie telling us that Thor continues to want to help people even when he has nothing left. Usually a character like that is axed in the end to ‘be with those he lost’ or some other trope-y nonsense (it’s not a plot ending I usually enjoy, as you can tell...) and I didn’t get that feeling here. I think, even if we don’t see Thor again in the MCU after A4, they’ll have him off-camera either ruling a remade Asgard/rebuilding a home for the remaining Asguardians, or traversing the nine realms, helping people.

By the way, he was, hands down, the best thing about this movie. They kept all the important parts of Ragnarok, I could see them, and they married it so, so, so well to his more serious side. He felt right. It felt like this was him at his fullest potential. The height of this long personal-growth story from Thor 1. I love that Pirate/Angel baby.

The Death reactions:

Everyone is commenting on how Tom Holland nailed his scene, and he did. He 100% totally did. I was weeping for that poor, scared child. It was like a stab to the heart. And for Tony, knowing there was nothing he could do but hold him... oh my gosh. It tore my heart to shreds. A+++ Tom Holland.

A lot of people said similar things about how well done Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany’s scene was. And it did get my feels going, but there were others that hit me just as hard, literally just as hard as the other two: Okoye seeing T’Challa disappear before her, and her cries for him to come back, just as we see Sam disappear, alone, no-one there with him (Rhodes arrives too late to see it happen) and Rocket has to watch, again, as a beloved Groot dies (... and oh jebus he doesn’t know yet that the ENTIRETY of the GotG gang are dead except for him). Okoye lives to serve Wakanda, she loves T’Challa (not romantically, of course), to her he is the embodiment of Wakanda. Her entire being is dedicated to protecting him, her friend, her king and he just... disappears in front of her. The horror in her eyes, the helplessness of her voice as she begs him to come back... I’m tearing up right now.

Don’t even get me started on Steve. Bucky was the first to go via snap death, and I do have a soft spot for him, so it hit me like a ton of bricks; Steve barely had time to register Vision’s second death and their overall failure before he loses the one thing he had left to tie him to his past - one of the few people he really loved (romantically or platonically, however you choose to interpret it, Bucky mattered). Steve Rogers has been through a lot. This sucked. It sucked so hard. All of these characters have lost so much, and Steve’s no exception. And we didn’t even get a BuckyNat moment (not that I’m mad about it, tbh. I’m glad they resolved the Brutasha thing nicely and kept Bruce’s character from Ragnarok (Waititi’s anxious, awkward nerd is so much better than Whedon’s hypocritical jerk nerd). It’d be way too soon to suggest BuckyNat, but I hope maybe to see it in the BW movie and maybe get a hint of it in A4?)

And then there was Drax. Oh my gosh, Drax! I didn’t realise just how attached to him I was until he was disappearing. I was not prepared for his panic, his soft calling out to Quill, not understanding what was happening to him and desperate for Peter to stop it. It was all just so terribly sad. No matter what he says, it just shows how much he looks to Peter as his leader, how much he loves him. I wanted to hug that big lug.

And then of course, there was Thor watching Heimdall and Loki die... I don’t even want to remember that... and mourning his brother? It was, like, the first 5 minutes and already I was balling. Damn you, Marvel. Damn you.

Ok, that’s enough sad talk.

Things I loved:

- Cap, Widow and Falcon’s entrance. So badass. SO BAD ASS.

- Black Widow in this movie. This was like CAWS Black Widow. This is the BW I love. She didn’t have much screen time but every moment felt right with her.

- Thor’s... everything, really. Every second he was on screen, conscious or unconscious. He was funny, kind, breaking stereotypes, powerful, cool, bad ass... he’s my favourite.

- Peter’s pop culture references. And his basing plans on 80s movies.

- Those plans working.

- Ned. He was on screen for 30 seconds and he made me cackle.

- AVENGERS ICE-CREAM.

- “WHY is Gamora?”

- Wong. He was there for 5 minutes and he was hilarious. “200 rupees” XD

- Drax being ‘invisible’.

- The Gamora/Nebula bond.

- “Dude. You’re embarrassing me in front of the wizards.”

- THE BUCKY AND ROCKET MOMENT WHERE ROCKET WANTS BUCKY’S ARM. THAT’S ALL I ASKED FOR AND THEY DELIVERED. AND BUCKY LITERALLY PICKED UP ROCKET AND TWIRLED HIM AROUND SO HE COULD KILL MORE EFFECTIVELY. THEY ARE KINDRED SPIRITS. WHO BOTH LOVE GUNS AND WERE REPEATEDLY MADE AND UNMADE AND WERE TORTURED AND FELT SO UNLOVED AND OK NOW IT’S BECOMING SAD AGAIN.

- Okoye and her hilarious quips.

- The GotG intro.

- PETER DINKLAGE. WHO IS A GIANT DWARF.

- “Not if I don’t die.”

- Bruce’s inner Hulk conflict.

- Rhodes messing with Bruce.

- “If you throw another moon at me I’m gonna lose it.”

- Peter Quill being jealous of Thor.

- “I would have washed that.”

- Tony’s nano tech.

- Bucky and his quips.

- How Peter got the Iron Spider suit.

- The Red Skull?!!?!?

- “You speak Groot?” / “It was an elective.”

- Understanding Thanos’ terribly flawed plan, his dedication to it and why he really does believe it’s for the greater good, and his genuine, proven, deep love for his favourite daughter. That’s what makes him so terrifyingly real. Real monsters aren’t just evil for the sake of being evil. Real monsters have good parts to them. They love, they’re the heroes of their own stories. But those redeeming features are no excuse for their monstrosity, their vileness. He’s an excellent, complex and terrifying super-villain.

- How Shuri awed Bruce with her super brain.

- Whoever thought to put Rocket, Groot and Thor together.

- “Rabbit”

- “Morons”

- Fury’s “motherfuc-“

- “This is my friend, Tree.” / “I am Groot” / “I am Steve Rogers”.

Where were these characters?!

Antman, Hawkeye and Nakia? I assume it’s because they’ll have biggish roles in A4? It also leads me to think the Antman & Wasp movie might have some serious significance to A4. We already know that the upcoming Captain Marvel will be important, for obvious reasons, but I’m thinking that since Antman & Wasp is the next movie to be shown after IW, it’s probably going to give us something (is that really obvious to other people and I’m just missing something? XD)

(Also, again, where was Valkyrie? And while I’m at it, where was Betty Ross? Will she turn up on A4? Or was that fake too?)

I’m going to go weep in a corner now.

[aphrodaisyacs]

Summary:

He’s probably going to die. Using the Infinity Stone might burn him inside out to the point of no return. Maybe he’ll lose control and he’ll send them both flying to their deaths, until their bodies float endlessly through the icy unforgivable vacuum of space.

But it’s better than the certainty of having his last breath crushed out of his throat in Thanos’ grip.

Tesseract between his blistered fingers, he thinks about safety and pulls.

Or: The one where Loki isn’t dumbed down for plot reasons and the Butterfly Effect ensues

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Heimdall (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Bruce Banner, Thanos (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Guardians of the Galaxy Team, Steve Rogers, T'Challa (Marvel), Peter Parker Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Shitstorm with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, POV Multiple, Loss of Limbs, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence

This was supposed to be a one-shot but it bullied its way into becoming a multi-chapter so here’s the first one!!

@pinato @ellcwrites @pretty-tsundere-cactus

If you prefer reading on tumblr, the full chapter is below:

It’s not enough, the realisation is a sickening weight in Loki’s stomach. His bones ache from exhaustion, his arms burn from the depletion of his magic. He tastes ash, smoke and blood in the air and between his lips. The ground shakes and the Hulk roars.

But it’s not enough.

Even the great green beast, the strongest, most indestructible, terrifying, the Champion ‒ their last hope against Thanos’ raw power. He isn’t enough.

He’s bent over Thor as if his brother could actually be protected by his weakened body. He knows that Thor too, had completely burnt out all of his lightning and is teetering on the edge of consciousness.

They are going to die. Except…

The soft blue glow of the Tesseract is harsh in its salience. He can reach it. The Space Stone‒ he can use it. Jump through space. Jump to somewhere where there’s help. Somewhere they can stall just long enough where they can recover, gather their strength…

Loki looks over at where Heimdall had fallen. He is met with golden eyes burning with resignation, hope, and the determination to carry out one final act of defiance. Those eyes slide over to the Hulk’s losing battle. Loki feels a pang in his chest. He knows what he must do.

He’s gripping Thor so hard his knuckles somehow turn even whiter. He reaches out to the Tesseract.

He’s probably going to die. Using the Infinity Stone might burn him inside out to the point of no return. Maybe he’ll lose control and he’ll send them both flying to their deaths, until their bodies float endlessly through the icy unforgivable vacuum of space.

But it’s better than the certainty of having his last breath crushed out of his throat in Thanos’ grip.

Tesseract between his blistered fingers, he thinks about safety and pulls.

The world tugs and swirls around him, but panic reverberates through his entire being when he sees Corvus lunge at them right as the ship dissolves into the vacuum of space.

They land amongst floating rocks.

Corvus immediately thrusts his weapon at Loki, but he is blocked with a punch from Thor. The two of them grapple with each other, sending each other’s weightless bodies flying into a boulder.

Loki barely registers the blue creeping onto his fingertips as he summons his last knife. He kicks off against a nearby rock, propelling himself towards the two struggling figures.

He drives the knife through Corvus’ skull.

Corvus stills. His grip on his weapon loosens.

Loki doesn’t think twice before snatching the spear out of the already stiffening grip.

Thor pushes Corvus’ body away, then ducks to avoid a rock the size of his head. Loki grabs onto his brother’s armour before the idiot can send himself crashing into another rock.

Why are we here, he sees Thor mouthing. He can’t answer, and it’s not just because the vacuum would suck his voice away. He doesn’t know why he sent them to the remains of Asgard (he does). It is little more than pile of rocks (it used to be home, safety, even when it became his prison). He’d wasted some of his last remaining drops of energy (he’d wasted it on sentiment).

He can’t even muster the strength to react when he looks down and sees that his hands had turned completely blue. Instead, he draws in absolutely everything left in him and pulls at the Tesseract once more.

This time, however, pain sears through his entire body and it is almost impossible to fight against the Tesseract pulling right back at him.

He barely registers Thor’s horrified expression before everything fades to black.

The Guardians stare at the man they’ve picked up from the debris. He returns their stares with a steady golden gaze.

“So‒ Heimdall,” Gamora begins, “Your ship had the Space Stone, but then its keeper used it to escape and left everyone else for dead?”

“No,” says Heimdall. “Half of the ship‒ nearly all of them non-combatants‒ were evacuated. And by then, the remaining half who stayed to fight were all killed by Thanos and the Black Order. Only four of us were left. Loki took Thor with him, but the moment the Space Stone slipped from his grasp, Thanos merely used the Power Stone to destroy the rest of the ship and left. I sent Banner to Midgard before the explosion hit.”

“I am Groot?” Groot asks, finally looking up from his game.

“Also known as Earth. Terra.”

Rocket’s jaw drops.

“You speak Groot?”

“Yes,” Heimdall says, tilting his head slightly forward in acknowledgement.

Peter clears his throat.

“I mean, Groot isn’t that hard to pick up,” he says, walking into the conversation with the casualness of a man trying too hard to be casual. “Like I was a natural at it back when Groot turned back into a little sapling.” He turns, only to be met with scrunched faces and raised eyebrows from his friends rather than the acknowledgement he was hoping for. The only indication of Heimdall’s mild bemusement is a miniscule furrow in his brows, which Peter takes as a challenge, if the way he straightens like a territorial swan is any indication.

“Why are you trying to make yourself look taller?” Mantis asks, antennae twitching curiously.

“What’re you talking about? This is how tall I am.” He broadly gestures at his entire body, which makes his hands accidently smack into Mantis. She gasps.

“You’re insecure!” She sounds delightfully surprised by her discovery. “And jealous.”

“What?” Peter exclaims. “No I’m not!”

“Peter!” Gamora cuts in, not even bothering to mask her annoyance. When the entire ship falls silent, she sighs.

“The entire time I knew Thanos he only ever had one goal: to bring balance to the universe by wiping out half of all life. He used to kill people planet by planet, massacre by massacre…”

“Including my own,” Drax softly adds.

“If he gets all six Infinity Stones, he can do it with the snap of his fingers.” Gamora punctuates it with a snap of her own. It echoes sharply in the silence of the ship. The aura of solemnity is blanketing its occupants, whose gazes and bodies are wilting from the gravity of their situation. Except for Heimdall, who is looking at Gamora thoughtfully.

“We need to stop him,” she continues. “Which means we need to know where he’s going next.”

“He is after the Reality Stone in Knowhere,” Heimdall says, finally breaking his silence.

“How would you know any of that?” Gamora asks sharply.

“Years ago, Asgard secretly entrusted it to the Elder Taneleer Tivan.” Upon seeing the Guardians’ blank looks, Heimdall adds, “You may know him as the Collector.”

“No way,” Peter says. “Only an idiot would give it to the Collector.”

“How do you know he won’t go after any of the other stones?” Gamora cuts in.

“My sight and hearing extends throughout the universe. Thanos is currently alone, and preparing for his journey towards Knowhere. If we are fast enough, we have a chance of arriving before him.”

Gamora chews her lip.

“Then does that mean you know where all the other stones are?”

“Time, Mind and now Space are on Midgard. He currently has the Power Stone, which leaves the Soul Stone.” Heimdall pauses. “But there must be some powerful magic guarding the Soul Stone, for I cannot see it.”

“So… even you don’t know where the Soul Stone is?” Only Heimdall manages to hear the artificial steadiness in Gamora’s voice.

“No, I do not.” He looks into her eyes and sees trepidation carefully hidden under layers of steel. He understands. And he dips his head apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Peter says, physically stepping between them. “Rocket! Let’s turn this thing around to Knowhere.”

“Oh are you kidding me, back to bossing me around now?” Rocket rolls his eyes but follows Peter to the cockpit anyway. “Come on, Groot, let’s go.”

A giant ring. Rubble. Destruction. Two grotesque figures, fanned by flames.

TONY STARK MISSING

It all flashes across the small screen, painful reminders that their stolen moments can be snatched back so abruptly, so messily, that their tentative blossom of hope get snagged and torn out as well.

Just a little more time. That was all they wanted.

But a blast of blue energy sends Vision flying into the pavement, shattering the peace of the cool night.

Wanda reacts by throwing her own red energy in the direction of the attack. She sees it hit an alien woman-like figure before she turns back to Vision, who is now stripped of his human skin and embedded into the stone road.

“I’m okay… I’m okay,” Vision wheezes as Wanda propels them both into a temporary hiding spot.

And he is, Wanda realises once she’s done a quick scan on him using her powers. The blast of blue energy appears to have done little more than leaving him winded and breathless.

When the alien woman attacks again, Wanda makes herself as much of a target for the hits and blows as she can. The woman may be physically tougher and faster than her, but in between ducking the three-pronged spear, Wanda dredges up her powers and her hand-to-hand training from the Black Widow and Captain America.

They’re evenly matched.

(Thank god the woman seems to be alone)

Eventually Vision joins the fight, and while the woman is too busy deflecting his golden beam from the Mind Stone, Wanda seeps her magic into the woman’s mind.

Sleep, she wills.

The woman crumples to the ground.

Wanda watches the woman stir as she feels the last vestiges of her magic run its course. The woman had been bound once Steve, Sam and Natasha arrived and though Natasha’s the only one who stayed behind to help watch over their unconscious captive, Steve and Sam are still nearby, dealing with the alien spaceship they had found parked above the train station.

Wanda’s pulse quickens as they watch the woman tug at her restraints, snarling when she’s unable to budge the vibranium even with her strength.

Natasha begins the interrogation, and Wanda summons a small cloud of magic around her clenched fists, just in case.

But the woman’s demeanour suddenly changes, her hot anger hardening to ice cold apathy. She merely rolls her eyes at Natasha’s attempts to talk to her, and she looks almost bored at the red energy crackling at Wanda’s fingertips. Instead, she silently stares at Vision with an intensity that causes him to self-consciously reach up to the stone on his forehead.

Wanda feels a surge of anger at the woman. The nerve of her, and whoever she is working for, to feel entitled to the stones and their power, as if it justifies all the death, all the destruction they have caused.

She almost doesn’t notice Steve approaching their corner and Sam landing next to him. The woman seems to be aware of them too, because she finally breaks her silence with laughter. The sound sends a crawling sensation down Wanda’s neck. Natasha swings the prongs of the trident at the woman’s throat in warning, letting the tips pierce her skin until three thin trails of dark blue run down her neck. The only indication of pain is a short gasp, which is quickly replaced by a feral grin.

“You’re no match for Thanos. He’s far more powerful than you can ever imagine. The stones belong to him, and he’ll restore balance to the universe. It doesn’t matter if you kill me here, because you won’t be able to stop him.”

Natasha hums.

“Is that so?”

The woman juts her chin out, seemingly ignorant to the way the gesture made the prongs sink further into her throat.

Natasha exchange glances with Steve. His expression is unreadable, but his crossed arms tense up slightly. Wanda feels her stomach drop.

Natasha gives the trident a final push.

A sharp crack.

A hoarse gasp.

A body crumples to the ground.

part 2

[jimfromsales]

Hi love! Your Infinity War Fanfiction is such a lovely idea! Would it be okay to request? If you don't mind, with Tony where I live (thank gosh!) as a regular human :) Please and thank you so much!!! 💜💜💜

Here it is!  The next one will be up at some point this week!  Thank you for your patience, and I hope you liked it!  (Sorry if you didn’t want Peter to be a big part of it, I couldn’t think of a way to get the regular human on the planet without him!)  Enjoy and give me feedback!

Alone on Titan

You had simply been caught up in the crossfire when Peter had been beamed up.  You two were classmates, and you had followed him to make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble.  (Of course, you knew he would.  It was Peter.) When he had been taken into the spacecraft, you had been pulled up with him.  

You were sure Tony could handle things alone, but you would feel better if you kept an eye on your friend.  

The beam had pulled you completely into the ship along with the wizard, as Tony had called him.  You hid as soon as the beam dropped you, and the alien miraculously didn’t see you.  When you had finally found Peter and Tony, they had already gotten rid of the alien using Peter’s pop-culture knowledge.

Of course you did, you thought.  Nerd.

Tony knew you from when you had helped Peter out in his other missions, covering for him to his aunt and such.  You were friendly enough with Tony, and generally you could have a nice conversation, but he was furious with you for being aboard the spacecraft.  

“It’s bad enough having Peter here, you don’t even have powers,” he’d said in frustration.  

“Peter’s here, so I have to be too.  You understand that.”  You locked eyes with Tony, matching his stubborn expression.  His face softened.  

“Yeah, I get it.”

So he had dropped the issue.  And you had managed to help out pretty well with everyone’s injuries once Thanos had come and gone.  That’s what you were doing when Mantis suddenly said “Something is happening!”  You looked up from Drax’s hand who you were bandaging to see what she was talking about.  

“Quill?” Drax said, turning to Peter Quill as his arm began to break away from his body.  You recoiled in horror.

“Peter?” You reached for the familiar hand as panic began to take over you. He was there in an instant and you stood there together, watching in horror as everyone around you began to fade.  Silent tears began running down your cheeks.  All that were left were you, Nebula, Tony, and-

“Mr. Stark?  I don’t feel so good.”

Peter let go of your hand like he didn’t have the strength to hold on and staggered towards Tony.

“You’re alright,” Tony said immediately.  You stayed silent, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Peter fell forward, gripping Tony with all his strength. “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go.”  You wanted to cover your ears, Peter sounded more terrified than she had ever heard him before.  

Tony lay him on the ground next to you, and Peter’s flickered to you before focusing back on Tony’s face.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and then he was gone, like all the rest.  You watched Tony closely to see if he was going to disappear- and then you glanced down at your hand to see if you were.

Tony stared at the spot Peter had vanished from.  It took him a few moments to register your presence next to him.  You locked eyes, your faces mirroring devastating pain.  Then, silently, you wrapped each other in your arms and wept together.

2/10 for my infinity war promo!  Still 4 spots left, if you wanna do that, click here

Permanent tags: @elvencantation  @ha-tep @these-midnight-memories

[itsagoodluckkiss]

You Found Me

Request: “I would love to see something like, after the fall, the POV of both Jake and MC, like simultaneously? Their thoughts, conversations with the others.” 

This takes place after the fall. Jake’s and MC’s thoughts. MC has a conversation with The Endless. Their reunion.

So, I got some requests asking about a Jake and MC reunion, then I got this and I decided to combine them, although this isn’t a POV fanfic. This is the second part of Someone To Stay, which you can find here. There will be a small, fluffy, final part in a few days too.

Pairings: JakexF!MC (and a bit of ZahraxCraig)

Warnings: Sadness, Death, Guilt, Angst (the usual)

Night had fallen when the helicopter landed abruptly in an unknown part of the island, on the shore of a beach. Jake couldn’t move away from his pilot sit. He stayed still, too shocked to even breathe. The others had to drag him out and run away before the chopper exploded. He didn’t even know how he managed to pilot it that far and save the four of them that still remained.

Save. He couldn’t save anyone. He wouldn’t have been able to pilot if Estela hadn’t screamed at him to snap out of his breakdown. He would have jumped out of the plane if Sean and Craig hadn’t caught him. He would be dead. At this moment, that was what he wanted. At least he would be with her.

Millions of thoughts were crossing his mind. Why were they alive and she wasn’t? Why was he alive and she wasn’t? He would give his life in a heartbeat if it meant she would be safe. But that wasn't the case now and he was the only one to blame. All Jake could see in front of him was her hand slipping. He could still feel her fingers grazing his before she fell, before he froze. He didn’t catch her in time. Now she’s dead. She's dead because of him. He lost another person, the person he loved the most and, once again, it was his fault.

Jake tried to walk away from the other three but couldn’t go far, his legs slowly giving up on him. He shakily grabbed the nearest tree to steady himself but couldn’t stand. His legs buckled and he fell on the ground, his knees sinking into the sand. He tried to take a few breaths but even that felt forced. It would be easier if everything ended for him right then and there.

He tried to focus on his surroundings but couldn’t. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white, nails digging into his palms. He was tired of losing people, he was tired of being alone. He felt hot tears running down his face and couldn’t keep the scream that followed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, sobbing uncontrollably.

Sean didn’t know a person could scream like that until he heard him. It was the kind of scream that made your blood run cold. A scream full of agony, so painful that made his own eyes tear up. He rushed at Jake’s side, fell down next to him and pulled him in for a hug. He was a bit taken aback by the fact that Jake didn’t push him away. He cried on his shoulder, too tired to get away. They were soon joined by a weeping Craig, who pulled them both in a hug, and Estela, who put a hand on Jake’s shoulder, squeezing it.

She needed to be as far away from that thing as possible. The thought of her turning into… into that terrified her. The moment The Endless revealed her true identity, she wanted to run away. And that’s what she did. She ran out of The Threshold in panic, tears already streaming down her face. She exited the cave and her knees gave up on her. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

How could The Endless… how could she do all these things? Creating a fake religion, changing time, watching their friends die over and over again without actually doing anything, taking their blood to make these  idols that were actually her friends' past lives and deaths in different timelines; all for her own purposes. How many lives has she destroyed? Was it her fault, that her friends were stuck on this island? Circles? Time loops? She had so many questions but didn’t know if she really wanted to know their answers.

She didn’t know how much time had passed until she looked at the sky. Night had fallen, but with the time anomalies, who knew how many nights had actually passed? Was it a day? Two? Solving that riddle in the cave took a lot of hours. Her mind running wild, she thought of her friends. Were they safe? Were they hurt? Did they find each other? She tried to reach Varyyn in her mind but couldn't. It was like she was cut off the rest of the world. If Diego knew she fell from the chopper, he would never forgive himself for not being there to help her.

And Jake… Jake. The look in his eyes before she fell... a look of despair. If only she could talk to him, tell him she's still alive. She knew Jake well enough by now to know that he would blame himself for not catching her in time. He would think she was dead. He would think it was his fault. She had to return to him.

The four of them sat next to each other on the soft sand of the beach, eyes fixed at the starry night sky. Jake was too numb to move, had no more tears to shed. He desperately tried to think of ways she could be still alive. Or this was just a hopeless attempt of his mind to make him feel better. She couldn't possibly have survived a fall like that. Even if the fall didn't kill her, she was in the middle of the sea. She would drown. And it was all his fault. This was something he would never get over.

Craig was sitting beside Sean, his arms wrapped around his knees, eyes were red from crying as well. He was in the same position Jake was. Zahra got dragged out of the chopper by Lundgren and Craig didn’t catch her in time either. He knew how he was feeling and honestly he wish he could do something to fix it. But he couldn't do much anyway.

“We’ll find them all. They are not dead. No one is dead, I know it. Our group will be together again, I promise you that.”, said Sean determined.

Jake wanted to believe him but his guilt made that impossible. He didn’t respond. Still looking at the stars, he thought about the night before they got into the Observatory, the night she fell asleep in his arms. He recalled how beautiful she looked under the moonlight, how they stargazed together and their small banter. And then it hit him.

“You know that some stars actually travel across the universe? Like, they are not bound to one galaxy, they just go everywhere and it makes me wonder sometimes…”

“… What?”

“… If one star is strong enough to actually leave a whole galaxy behind, why can’t we, here on earth, just get over whatever makes us feel like we can't continue? Why don't we try to find what we're looking for?"

“You're right Cap. They're not dead. And we will find them all.”

Find what we're looking for. She was right. People should fight for what they need, get over anything to find what they want. He wouldn't find anything like this. He had to believe she survived even if it was hard. He had to believe so he could find her. She saved him more times than he could count. She made him feel alive again. He couldn’t give up on her now.

Something deep inside him was telling him this wasn't the end. He had to hold onto that and look for her. No matter where she might be he would find her, even if it would be the last thing he would do. The other three looked at him in surprise for a mere moment, maybe because he hadn't spoken for hours, then nodded.

“And then we’re gonna kill all those who have hurt us. Their days will be over soon.”, Estela stated with a firm voice.

“That I can believe.”

All he wanted was to find her, but revenge on those bastards is something he craves as well. He got up, the others following. He put a hand on Craig's shoulder and smiled weakly.

“Enough self loathing, Drax. We have work to do.”

“Zahra will be so pissed at me when she finds out I've been crying instead of looking for her.”

She didn’t move from the spot she was sitting for hours, looking at the sky, her mind running wild. The numbness inside her grew as she thought of all the things that had happened since they landed on this damned island. She couldn’t save anyone and now another problem was added to the list. What was she supposed to do? Should she stay away from her friends to keep them safe from… her?

She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, tears welling up again. She felt a hand on her shoulder and briefly glanced up. Uqzhaal sat down beside her.

“I’m... I'm so sorry…”

“Don’t be. I don't blame you or the other Catalysts about anything.”

“But that thing in ther-”

“She’s you but you’re not her. Not yet at least. And you might be the salvation everyone need. Everyone needs you, Andromeda.”

They heard slow footsteps behind them and she turned around to see her. She wasn't wearing the helmet. The older reflection of herself was terrifying, and not only because of how she looked.

“Can you leave us for a while, Uqzhaal?”

Uqzhaal slightly nodded then got up and walked back to the cave. The Endless took a sit beside her now.

“I understand how this must feel. What you're experiencing now is complex but you will come around it when you see...”

“See what?! What you did?! That's gonna make me forgive you? Forgive... me?” “When you see all the things I have seen, you'll know why I did all of these.”

She looked at The Endless for a long moment, cold anger boiling inside her.

“So what? Am I supposed to stay here now and you get to share y... our stories? I'm gonna see your memories? Is this a twisted version of Harry Potter?”

The Endless couldn't keep the small smile that spread on her wrinkled face.

“After all this time, you're still the same. Diego and Jake and their stupid pop culture references always rub off on you.”

“...They're always the same, aren't they? All of them.”

“Yes. In all your 2139 lives, none of you ever changed even a bit. Stubborn kids.”

“Technically you're still a kid.”

“That was a long time ago. I am not you, MC.”

They both stared at the sky for a few moments. MC was thinking about when she would leave this place and see her friends again. She knew they were alive but all she wanted was to be close to them. And Jake. Was he looking for her? Has he given up, thinking he let her down and was responsible for her death? All she wanted was to see him, to hold him and tell him everything was okay. A single tear rolled down her face. As if she had read her thoughts, The Endless spoke.

“You won't stay here for long. A few days maybe, just so you can get all the memories and information from me. We have work to do MC, I don't intent to keep you here. And don't worry, he isn't giving up... he never did.”

She wiped the tear with her hand and slightly smiled.

“It's out of character for him to give up I guess. He's strong.”

“But you are his weakness. That's the only reason he died in previous lifetimes.”

A shiver ran down her spine as a few memories of Jake came to her briefly. It felt like centuries had passed but it was only a few seconds. She looked at her older reflection with shock in her eyes.

“He... he always died... for me?”

“Why do you sound so surprised, girl? You know he would do anything if that meant everyone else would be safe, especially you. He’s your soulmate. You feel it already, don't you?”

“...Feel what?”

“That this isn't your first time around. That you've seen him before. That you know him, know how he feels, what he needs. That he feels the same for you. You probably feel that every time you two are together.”

“How do you... wait, you mean... it was always Jake?”

“Of course it was always Jake. Do you think you would have fallen for him that fast if it wasn't? That he would have fallen for you? Your bodies and your souls know each other after all those times. No matter what provocations you may had from others, you would always choose him.”

She couldn't bring herself to talk. Her strong feelings for him confused her until now. She had felt everything The Endless mentioned. Everything made sense now. She glanced at her and saw a melancholic look on her face, as if she was briefly reliving old memories.

“In older circles, it took more time for the two of you to get together... You are exceptional, MC. Other versions of… us... spend months, years in this place until they even reached the cave, to no avail of course. And you are the first one. You are capable. If you really want all of you to get off this place, you have to accept a few things now. Time is precious and we don't have much.”

“But you said you can never leave this island.”

“But you can. Don't make me repeat myself kid, I may be you but you are not me yet. You have a chance to escape this fate.”

MC took a deep breath in, trying to relax herself.

“So what do I have to do?”

They managed to find Varyyn, Raj, Michelle and Diego on their way back to the Vaanti village. Diego kept silent on their way there, the news of his best friend being lost or hurt or dead to hard for him to handle. Jake couldn't meet Diego's gaze. He was counting on him to keep her safe. He let him down too.

In the days that followed, everyone searched for their three missing friends. Quinn was the first one they found. Luckily she wasn't hurt much, thanks to her powers. Next, they found Zahra. She managed to escape from Lundgren and find her way to the Celestial by the time they arrived to look there too. When Craig saw Zahra again, he ran to her and pulled her in a bone crashing hug. In everyone's surprise, she hugged him back, briefly kissing him, then hugged everyone else too.

A week passed and everyone was back together except her. It was liked she had disappeared from the face of the earth. Jake started to lose hope again. He couldn't sleep or eat properly, his usual jokes and banter with others long gone. When he didn't search for her, he would go to the beach, gazing at the stars for hours, crying alone with no one interrupting him.

She knew everything now. She had seen all of The Endless's memories. She had seen all of her friends dying again and again. She couldn't sleep but the brief time she would, nightmares haunted her. She was suffering quietly but didn't quit yet. She had to save them all.

She couldn't talk to Varyyn. She felt it when he tried to talk to her but she couldn't talk back. The Endless said it would be too risky to do that, nothing could interrupt this. But finally, everything ended and she could go back to them, to him. She, Uqzhaal and Yvonne were ready to leave The Threshold and go back to the village.

“If your friends are alive, they will be back there. Don't worry MC.”

Uqzhaal told her in a calm voice, putting a hand on her shoulder as they were leaving. She turned her head and looked at The Endless. She saluted them with a small smile.

“We'll see each other again soon, MC. I will follow your path in a while. Be careful.”

She nodded slowly, then walked away with her companions. She was still worried of how she would tell her friends everything or what they would think of her after she did. But she wanted more than anything else to see them again, to hug them. To hold him again. In a few hours, she would see him.

This night was another night without her. He starred at the sky, a flask in his hand, asking himself if he would ever actually find her, if she was still alive. Varyyn couldn't reach her. If she was alive, she would have talked to him at least. He ran his fingers through his hair as tears threatened to fall again. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Diego took a sit next to him.

“She would be annoyed if she saw you doing that alone.”

He chuckled bitterly and took another swig from his flask.

“Good thing she can't see me then, huh?”

“Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it, you know.”

“Don't quote Harry Potter to me, Petey. It doesn’t help.”

“I'm not here to help you, Jake. I'm here to put some sense into you. When she will come back and find you looking like shit, she won't be happy.”

“If she comes back.”

“She's not dead! I know it! She will come back or we'll find her.”

Jake didn't really pay attention to him. He didn't want to spoil it for Diego but he had no sign she was still alive.

“You should stop blaming yourself. No one's blaming you. It wasn't your fault.”

“Wasn't it?”

He looked at Diego, a heartbroken expression on his face.

“It's haunting me every night. How I froze and didn't catch her in time. The fear in her eyes. It's all my fault, no matter what you all say. If I just -”

“Diego! Jake!”

They both turned to look at Varyyn, who was running toward them.

“What happened Varyyn?”, Diego replied anxiously.

“MC. She's here!”

Jake didn't wait for Diego to get up as he ran back to the village.

The moment she arrived at the village, she heard people calling her. She saw her friends rushing to her side, wrapping her in hugs, kissing her cheeks.

“MC!” 

“Oh my God, you are alive!”

“Thank God you're here.”

“I missed you dude!”

She smiled and laughed for the first time in days while holding her friends tightly.

“I missed you guys so much, I'm so happy you're all okay!”

“Where were you?!”

She broke away from Estela's hug and looked at her. How was she supposed to answer her question?

“It's... it's a long story, I'll tell you guys later, I-”

She saw someone running to them from the beach, two other people behind him. She already knew who that would be. An even bigger smile crossed her face as Jake got closer. He looked tired and roughed up but her pilot was still going. He stopped running when he got close enough and stared at her for a mere moment, his mouth a bit open, the shock evident in his face. Then, he pulled her in a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck, promising to himself he would never let her go, he would never let anything happen to her again.

She hugged him back securely, her face on his shoulder, her fingers lacing through his hair to calm him down as she felt him crying against her neck. Tears started forming against her eyes and she let them fall, not caring to keep them anymore. Being back in his arms was all she wanted. He touched her cheek as he gazed into her eyes, a small smile forming on his face as he realized she wasn't a dream. He pulled her in for a soft kiss, afraid she would disappear if he kissed her more roughly. Her lips were warm and tender against his. They could feel the thud of their combined heartbeat as they breathed each other in. He broke away, his forehead resting against her own.

“I thought I lost you.”

“You didn’t. I'm here Jake.”

“You found me.”

[rhaenyra--targarvyen]

Pizza

A (belated) birthday gift for @the-crazy-lemonade-lady ! Sorry it’s late!

Inspired by a post I saw a couple days ago that I just couldn’t not write a full fic for...

Peter hasn’t seen a mess this large since that unfortunate day in chemistry last year where Marcus Stone (accidentally) almost blew up half the lab. 

Of course, it’s awesome too. Every superhero he’s grown up aspiring to be like, raised on stories of their bravery and self sacrifice in the face of impossible odds, are all in one place. Not fighting each other. And Wakanda is amazing. So he’s not exactly surprised that things are so crazy, but really-it’s just pizza toppings. 

Tomorrow they all go their separate ways to fight Thanos (or, as Mr. Stark likes to call him, the giant space grape) but for tonight they feast like champions. Apparently, that means the best pizza that Wakanda has to offer. 

“Spider-Man, give us a headcount,” Mr. Stark says, and Peter complies: there’s Captain America, Black Widow, Thor, Hawkeye, and Dr. Banner, along with the New Avengers War Machine, Falcon, Vision, and Scarlet Witch. There’s the Winter Soldier-or the White Wolf, now. There’s Doctor Strange. There are the ‘good’ aliens: Other Peter, Gamora, Drax, Mantis, the talking raccoon, and the talking tree. And then there’s King T’Challa and Princess Shuri and a bunch of the Dora Milaje who are watching the chaos and trying not to look entertained. “How many pizzas are we going to need?”

Peter is pretty sure that a few of them could eat a pizza or two on their own. “We have twenty. Do we want leftovers?”

“Yes,” Shuri pipes up. 

“So...thirty?” 

Other Peter is talking about how he hasn’t had real pizza in twenty years. Apparently they don’t have it in space. Poor aliens-they’re really missing out. 

“Better make it forty.” Tony jots this down. “You never know when pizza is going to come in handy.” He raises his voice so he can be heard above the general clamor of introductions and half joking arguments. “What does everyone want for toppings?” 

There’s no (definable) response: either no one hears him or no one cares.

Tony gestures towards the fray. “Do some mingling, Spiderling. Introduce yourself while you’re at it.” Of course. Because Peter’s only here to be the errand boy. He had to fight hard to even let Tony allow him to go to space. He hates to see all that effort go to waste now. 

Okay Peter, he thinks as he approaches the first knot of people: Captain America, Dr. Banner, War Machine, and Black Widow. Be cool. Still, his voice squeaks a little bit when he says “Mr. Stark wants to know what toppings you want on your pizza.” 

Dr Banner raises his eyebrows. “When Tony said he hired a kid I didn’t realize he actually meant-”

“I’m going to be eighteen in October.” But he’s used to the jabs about his age-another reason why he’s glad he’s not an actual Avenger. The jokes would be unbearable. 

Black Widow rolls her eyes. “He’s a good fighter. And we need all the help we can get.” He feels himself stand a little bit straighter, buoyed by sudden praise. “Black olives.” 

“Half cheese, half pepperoni and sausage.” Dr. Banner shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you-”

“Peter. I’m Peter. It’s good to see you, Dr. Banner. Although I’m glad you’re not a giant green rage monster.” 

He laughs. “Call me Bruce. And I’m glad too, Peter.” 

Captain America wants all sausage. “How’s Queens?” 

“It’s...Queens.” He’s tempted to ask how is life being a wanted fugitive but he worries Cap might take that the wrong way and he would rather not have an Avenger pissed off at him, especially Captain America. 

“I’ll take meat lover’s if they have it,” Colonel Rhodes says. “Tony should know that.” They nod at each other. Peter has been interning at the Avengers base for Tony the last couple of summers, so they see each other pretty often. It’s nice to see another familiar face, in the middle of all these super people. 

He writes all of this down and says his goodbyes before he moves onto the next group: Thor and the aliens. “Do you guys want pizza?” 

Thor nods very seriously. “I would like all the toppings on my pizza.” 

The raccoon swears. “You can’t be serious. That’s disgusting.” 

Gamora rolls her eyes. “Leave him alone, Rocket.” She turns to look at Peter and he realizes offhandedly that she’s kind of hot, green skin and all. “Pepperoni and black olives.” 

Other Peter looks like a little kid at Christmas. “Half pepperoni, half canadian bacon. That’s what I always used to get when I was a kid.” He looks at Peter in confusion. “Aren’t you kind of young to be an Avenger?”

“Yeah. I’m not, actually. Technically. I got an offer, but I turned it down. I’m a friend of Mr. Stark’s.” He gets the feeling they’ve already stopped listening. 

“I hear you’re going to space with us,” the talking raccoon says. “How long can you hold your breath?”

Other Peter steps on his foot. “Rocket, be nice.” 

“It’s a fair question-”

“Just order your pizza toppings.”

“Pineapple.”

“That’s gross, no one gets pineapple on their pizza-”

The raccoon responds with a series of words that Peter is pretty sure he’s not allowed to repeat, so he moves on to the other three aliens instead. 

“What is this ‘pizza’?” Drax says, looking like he wants to break Peter’s spine. Or maybe that’s just his normal expression. 

Peter is just panicking over how to explain pizza to an alien when Mantis says “It’s like...a pie, except instead of chocolate and whipped cream it’s sauce and toppings.”

Drax still looks confused but Other Peter seems to realize what’s going on so he says “Just order a couple cheeses and a couple pepperonis. We’ll figure it out.”

Peter goes to the talking tree next, who’s playing Angry Birds on a cell phone that looks like it saw its heyday ten years ago. “I am Groot,” he says, without looking up. 

“Hi Groot. I’m Peter. Do you want-”

“I am Groot,” the tree says a little louder in a tone that Peter knows well: shut up I’m trying to concentrate. 

In the spot next to Groot’s name Peter writes I am Groot. Tony can figure that out. 

Falcon and the Winter Soldier are arm wrestling and they don’t look happy to see Peter. They both place insanely complicated orders: one eighth black olives (“No wait,” White Wolf says, “make them green”), pineapple, canadian bacon, sausage, buffalo if they have it, and then Falcon orders a dessert pizza. 

“What’s that?” Peter asks. 

Falcon narrows his eyes. “You don’t know what a dessert pizza is? You haven’t lived.” 

He writes that down too, with two question marks after it. Maybe it’s an Avengers thing. Maybe there are team perks that he doesn’t know about. 

He accidentally walks in on Scarlet Witch and Vision making out in a side hallway so he backs away slowly and doesn’t write anything down for them. He’s going to have to watch a lot of b-99 to get that image out of his head. Not that he’s against it or doesn’t ship it or whatever but...he was not prepared. 

Hawkeye is talking with the royals. He barely even notices Peter when he says “Canadian bacon.” 

The King is a little bit nicer. “I would like pepperoni and antelope meat, if possible. And order several more for the Dora Milaje if you could. They would like some but are too polite to say so.” 

He scribbles that down. “Thank you for letting us stay at your palace, your highness. It’s...nice.” Which is the understatement of the century, but words aren’t his strong suit. 

Shuri doesn’t look up from her tablet. “I’d like what my brother has.” She smiles at him. “I’m almost finished with the new updates to your suit.”

“Oh...um, you didn’t have to-”

“All of your tech is horribly outdated. Maybe in your country it helps you, but it won’t here. I took in the effect that zero gravity might have on it and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” She grins at him and he can’t help grinning back even though he still isn’t quite sure how she accessed his suit when it’s hanging up in the closet in the guest room. He’s lucky; some people had to share. 

He comes back to Tony with the finished list, exhausted. Tony finishes the phone call; from what Peter can hear of the other end, the pizza worker sounds vaguely terrified. 

Tony raises his eyebrows as he scans the list. “What’s a dessert pizza?”

Peter shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out.” 

With the Avengers, there’s never a dull moment. 

So I played with the timeline a little bit so I could get all of them in Wakanda-hope it’s enjoyable anyway lol. 

[woozletania]

First, Do No Harm (Rocket, GOTG, Lylla)

Watching Rocket and Lylla perform a minor operation on Gamora reminds him of the time Peter found Rocket operating on himself.  Blood and Rocket angst.

This story takes place after Sanctuary.

"Get that nerve, Rocket," Lylla said distractedly. Then, "Oh, I'm sorry, dear.  I wasn't thinking."

Not so long ago Rocket's ears would have gone back, either at the implication that he'd made a technical error or because, Peter knew, the phrase "Get that nerve" brought back horrible memories of his early life. But their tough little raccoon teammate had healed a lot since he met them, and especially after meeting Lylla a year ago.

"I'll get your nerve," he said with a wicked grin.

Lylla chuckled. "Later, honey." Through the banter Rocket's clever little hands were working.  Lylla waited a moment as he added another white disc - nerve blocks to deaden pain - to the ones stuck to Gamora's shoulder.  He studied a hovering screen.  "Got it."

"I don't know why you have to be awake for this," Peter said. The green-skinned assassin smiled.  She was face down on one of the common area bunks, naked from the waist up, and Lylla had the skin peeled back from a wound on her shoulder.  Gamora's cybernetics were expensive and reliable but that didn't mean they were indestructible. She'd been blown through a wall on the Guardian's latest mission and even her augmented body had its limits.

"Because they're very good at it," she said.  Three hovering screens in front of her face had different views of the operation.  The otter had the muscles in her shoulder clamped apart to expose the sinews around the bone.  Nanomotive tubes drew away blood from capillaries too small for the otter to clamp off.  The blood went into a cycler that sent it right back into Gamora's wrist.  Only perhaps an ounce of blood would be lost in the entire course of the procedure.  "It's educational."

"Right," Peter said.  He felt compelled as always to be there when someone from the crew was hurt.  Rocket had taught his mate basic cybernetics repair and this was more training for the otter.  Lylla's hands weren't as clever as Rocket's but she was a fast learner.

"There it is," she purred.  She'd exposed a series of flexible tubes, linear armature motors connected to Gamora's shoulder joint.  Like the ones in her body and Rocket's they ran through every limb and to every joint, greatly increasing their strength.

Two of them were torn almost through, remarkable given they were far stronger than steel. Gamora was very strong and very tough and she put a lot of strain on her cybernetics.  It wasn't the first time she'd managed to damage them.

"Type two motor," Lylla purred.  Rocket already had one in his hand.

The operation was minor and went smoothly.  Peter remembered another, not so long ago, that had been more traumatic.  At least for him.

*****

It was only a few days after what they called the Xandar Incident now.  Ronan was dead, the Guardians had pardons for their various crimes and life was good. Groot - still the same Groot or a child, a sapling? - they weren't sure yet - was growing steadily in his pot. Drax and Gamora were beating each other up during one of their many training sessions in the common area at the back of the Milano. Even from his cabin Peter could hear the thuds as they threw each other around.

Peter yawned and scratched himself as he came out of his cabin.  "Mornin' Rocket," he said as he passed the little raccoon.  Peter froze in mid-step.

"God, what?" He'd seen the blood in passing and turned.  Rocket was sat up in one of the walkway bunks/sofas, humorously undersized for his seat.  Less humorous was the white sheet under the raccoon's thigh.  Partly white.  Mostly red now.

"Quill," the raccoon said without looking up.  "Hand me that nerve block."

On the couch next to the raccoon was an open kit, one of several Rocket brought with him when he came on board.  Peter had never seen the inside of this one and it contained a terrifying assortment of scalpels, clamps, retractors and higher-tech surgical gear.  A little unit next to Rocket's leg hummed as its mobile tubes sucked up blood that leaked onto the white fabric.  Peter watched as the blood made its way visibly up another tube and into a needle embedded in the raccoon's ankle.

"What's it look like?" Peter couldn't look away.  Rocket had the fur and skin of his thigh drawn back with retractors and was knuckles deep in the bloody muscle underneath.

"It's a white -" the raccoon tensed, hissing in agony as he hit a nerve somewhere under that meat.  His eyes glazed for a moment and the sound that rasped out of him was nothing like his normal voice.

"I. Said. Get That Nerve, Kin-Kaid.". Rocket shuddered and his eyes cleared. "Quill.  White thing.  Round."

"Right, right." There was a row of them stuck to the underside of the case lid.  Peter popped two loose just in case.

"Kinda busy," Rocket said absently.  Only his voice showed the pain. His hands were rock steady.  "Stick it on the fur by my knee."

A moment later he relaxed.  "Ah.  Better. That was distracting." He leaned down over himself, his whiskers an inch from the bloody wound he'd made in himself.  He was looking,  listening and sniffing as his hands worked.  All of Rocket's senses were amazing save for his sense of taste.  He would eat anything you put in front of him, no matter how badly prepared or foul, and never complain. Though that might have less to do with sense of taste than growing up hungry.

"There we go," he growled. "Feel it now.  Bad little servo..."

"Distracting," Peter muttered.  He remembered the scars on Rocket's back, the ones the little raccoon hid under a shirt or armor save that one time in the Kyln.  He saw the rough spots where more  hid under Rocket's fur. He'd suspected his friend was in pain more or less all the time.  He was sure now.  No one unaccustomed to agony could be so calm when operating on himself.

"Rocket, who's Kinkaid?"

"Nerve tech," Rocket said without looking up.  "Not good at his job. Dead now."

His eyes were glazed, staring vacantly at the wall as his exquisitely sensitive hands worked inside his leg. Peter had seen him like this before. Rocket's hands were so good that at times they seemed to need no input from his brain. Or maybe they took all of it.

"How did he die?" Peter couldn't help but press.  He knew it was a bad idea. He did it anyway.  Maybe he could learn something about his angry little friend.

"How did who die," Rocket said without changing expression.  "Got it," he growled as bloody fingers slid free of his leg.  "Hand me that number-four-knitter, Quill."

Rocket had several tools laid out on the mostly-red sheet and one had rolled out of reach.  Peter looked at it as he handed it over.  Like several of the others it was gleaming, polished alloy.  Not like so many of Rocket's handmade, very functional but often ugly creations.  This was precision made and certainly very expensive.

Property of Halfworld Labs, it said on the handle.  Peter saw the label on the other shiny ones as well.

He slapped the knitter into Rocket's little hand just as the raccoon opened his mouth to complain about the delay.  Rocket set to poking it about in the exposed muscles.  Several were visibly damaged.  Peter was surprised Rocket managed to conceal the limp.  He must have been hurt fighting Ronan but he never said a word.

"Need the number two in a minute," Rocket said, his eyes glazing over again.  Peter took his chance as he reached for the tool, which helpfully had a "2" engraved on the base.

"Did Kinkaid work at Halfworld Labs?"

"Not any more," Rocket said absently.  "Dead.  All dead. All except one...Number Two Knitter."

Peter handed it over.  "All except you?"

Rocket set to stitching shut his fur with the Number Two.  Before he could answer Gamora walked in, a towel over her shoulder.  She saw what was going on at once and before Peter could say a word she grabbed the white disk he had set down and stuck it onto Rocket's thigh next to another one.

"Don't need it," Rocket said as he finished sealing the self-inflicted wound.  "Just 'bout done."

"How far in did you need to go," Gamora said.  She shot Peter an angry look and he raised his hands, not sure what he'd done wrong.

"To the bone," Rocket said as he began to organize and stow the surgical tools. The red sheet was slowly turning white as some sort of capillary action fed the blood back through the tube into his ankle. "Bad servo."

"Rocket, that's dangerous," Gamora said. "If you'd nicked the femoral artery with a claw the cycler might not have kept you alive."

"I know where my femoral artery is," Rocket snapped.  "I know where everything is.  I can do it myself."

"You missed a nerve," Gamora said.  Peter didn't say that Rocket had missed another earlier.  He didn't need them both angry at him.  "Look, Rocket, I'll make you a deal.  You help me when I need work done and I'll help you when you do.  I can use someone with hands as good as yours and I know cybernetics too.  We can help each other."

"Eh," Rocket said as he snapped the case shut.  The appeal to his ego helped, though, or maybe he wanted a look at Gamora's cybernetics. "Okay. I can live with that."

Peter almost mentioned the scars on the raccoon's back, reddened and inflamed around the implants. Later he would regret not doing so. Instead he said something else.  "Why don't you just go to a doctor?"

Rocket and Gamora both looked at him. Neither said anything.  "Oh c'mon, there's got to be one you trust."

"No," Gamora said.  "There isn't." Rocket just laughed harshly.

"Fine, look, you go shower," he nodded to Gamora, sweaty from her workout, "And you need one too." Rocket shrugged, not one to bathe regularly.  His crimson fur told the tale, though, and when Peter pointed at the bloody footprint he'd left on the deck he nodded.  

"I'll start breakfast," Peter went on.  As the two turned away he couldn't resist one last question.

"Rocket, you said only one person came out of the lab alive. Who was it?"

Rocket blinked, pausing in mid-step.  "Who told you that?  Its bunk."

"Was it you?"

Rocket turned away, and his last words were harsh.  "No one came out of that lab in one piece, Quill.  No one."

Peter would look it up later.  Halfworld Labs vanished in a blinding flash when its fusion reactor went critical - something that was statistically improbable at best, the dispassionate news articles agreed.  Peter had a pretty good idea of how it happened.

Ten or more dead, the article said. But no names, no pictures.  Classified Research. Not even a word on what went on in the lab. No survivors, it said.

But there was at least one.  One little raccoon so scared of doctors that he cut himself open rather than let one touch him.

Peter shook his head as he started the stove and got out the makings of a crew lunch. He'd had a rough childhood after the Ravagers got him.  Gamora's was even worse.  But Rocket's was so bad he was surprised the raccoon functioned at all. He thought Rocket was improving.  He hoped so. But to find him with a scalpel in his hand and his leg flayed open....

It wasn't the first horrible thing Peter learned about Rocket.  It wouldn't be the last. Why did he do the things he did?  Something horrible that was done to him in the past.  It was always something horrible, with Rocket.

What do you do when you find your friend operating on himself?  Hand him the tools and try to keep him from killing himself, while trying to understand what drove a person to such an extreme. And hope that one day he'd realize he didn't have to do it any more.

*****

Peter blinked, and realized the operation was over.  Lylla was using Rocket's Number Two Knitter, which worked on skin whether it had fur or not.  When she was done Gamora shifted her shoulder back and forth and nodded.

"It doesn't hurt at all now," she said with a smile.  "Thanks, you two."

Lylla grinned brightly, and Rocket nuzzled her cheek.  "Told you could do it. Next time someone gets a real wound you're on point."

The two of them methodically stowed the surgical tools, including all the ones Rocket had taken from the lab where he was made.  Peter knew the whole story now, the whole awful truth.  Rocket had killed his way out of that horrible place and named himself after the researcher that made him. Each letter of his name was taken from the name of a researcher who worked on him. He had come out of the place a bloody and nearly insane thing. Were it not for one kindly doctor he'd likely have become, as he put it, "A thing of pure hate." But he hadn't.  Ever so slowly, in fits and starts, he left the hate behind.

Groot had started that recovery by not treating him like a pet or animal or monster. Then Peter and the other Guardians appeared.  Slowly Rocket learned to trust them.  Slowly he healed.

Then Yondu, whose death taught him that even if he was his cantankerous self, his friends would forgive him.  Who taught him that it was all right to be loved.

And finally Lylla. She nipped him on the neck in her usual love bite spot and giggled. Peter reached out and took the tool kit.

"I'll put this with your stuff," he said.  Rocket didn't even flinch. There was a time he'd snap at you for touching one of his tools, much less a prized possession like his surgical kit.  

"Thanks Pete," Rocket growled distractedly as Lylla nibbled his ear. And wasn't that an alien thought.  Rocket actually saying 'Thank you.'

Lylla brought love into Rocket's life.  Lylla brought him the one thing he never had: "Something like him."  Lylla and the other Uplifts on Xandar and elsewhere.  Rocket wasn't alone any more.  He was the only raccoon - yes, you could call him that now - but Lylla was the only otter, among other singletons.  There was only one Rocket but he was no longer alone.

Relieved of the tool kit, Lylla nipped Rocket again and was off like a shot on all fours.  Rocket was right behind her. They would disappear somewhere, maybe into the walled-off cubbyhole under Rocket's tool bench, to celebrate.  Two little Uplifts didn't need much room, especially two very friendly ones.

Mantis, who'd been hovering nearby to help calm Gamora if the assassin wished - which of course she hadn't - smiled.  Drax, little interested in watching an operation, wandered in.  Young Groot, a foot taller than Rocket and Lylla, smiled as well as the scrabble of claws disappeared into the distance.

"Sooo, what's next?" Star-Lord sprawled out on the couch.  "What's Lylla got lined up for us?"

The little otter was purpose-built as a diplomat and had fallen easily into the role of manager, and sometimes spokesman for the team.  She was also trained and equipped to be an assassin, which her creators thought synonymous with 'diplomat', but was far as she was concerned if she never bit another person with her venomous fangs it'd be too soon.

"Well," Gamora said, and flicked a screen up onto the wall.  "There's a colony that wants us to sniff out a possible Skull infiltrator.  The Colonizers of Rigel have a bounty out on a possible Uplift lab..." she held up her hand, "I know, Rocket and Lylla will want to look into that, especially as they are jointly the Uplift spokespeople.  Then there's that situation further out the Orion Arm. Scattered reports of something that may or not be a Brood hive..."

Pete leaned back with a deep sense of satisfaction.  The rogue, the assassin, the warrior, the empath, the tinkerer, the diplomat.  And a four foot tall tree.  All hurt, but all healed.  All Guardians.

[trashpandaorigins]

And If You Don’t Love Me Now  Ch. 6

When Rocket wasn’t inspecting the waret or the protected cargo holds, when he wasn’t tag teaming with Quill to navigate to Gravior, or trying to push aside the walls of Groot’s iron apathy, in the quiet moments aboard the ship, (which were few,) he sat and tried to repair the malfunctions of his cybernetics. Groot had wordlessly depart their room, as per usual, to spar with Drax and Kraglin.“I thought you were gonna help me fix the broken electrics in the southern chambers!” Rocket shouted at the adolescents back. Groot turned, his side almost fully healed. The raccoonoid looked at him, blinking, waiting for some recognition. For anything. The hard-dark eyes only narrowed, deep shades of brown barely gleaming a touch of wanton sympathy.“

Groot….” Rocket began, words filling his throat. The teen turned, walking from the room with finality and leaving the door open, just as gaping as the feeling in his chest. “Flark it,” he mumbled, going to his bed and reaching underneath for the draw of nick knacks. He withdrew his cleaning cloths and ointments, a wrench and a screw driver and took a deep breath. He knew the routine well and didn’t think about the pain he was going to feel as he undid the top of his customary jumpsuit. Looking through the faded dirty mirror Rocket made an effort to fix the knots and bolts in his back, each wipe of ointment and twerk of wrench making his body spasm with electric hurt.

 “F…fuck..” he breathed, leaning forward and gripping the edge of his bed

“Knock knock,” Gamora said quietly. Rocket didn’t bother to hide his small smile. Such meetings had become routine in the months and years since Groot was a small infant. She took the wrench and screw driver from him and sat herself down behind him all without words. Rocket gritted his teeth as she stuck the wrench to the lowest bolt in his back and twisted.

“Shit….” He whispered. Gamora poured more of the ointment on his torn flesh and rubbed it soothingly. She moved on to another section, this one slightly less painful.

“How is Groot?” She finally asked, Rocked sighed begrudgingly.

“You’d know better than me,” he grumbled through his fangs.

“Hold still,” the assassin ordered and pulled once, sending sparks from the panel in his back dazzling. Rocket’s arms and legs tightened, his tail rigid. Blood slicked down his back from the wounds where skin met metal.“You’re allergic to this,” Gamora stated, resting her palm gently on his shoulder. Her hand felt surprisingly smooth and welcome on his fur.“Yeah,” he reached around and finished tightening the bolt with his own fingers. 

“It’s a low-grade reaction.” He didn’t need to turn around to sense Gamora’s unhappiness.“Rocket….”

“Don’t.” He snapped. “I know what you’re gonna say, don’t say it.” Gamora only applied more of the soothing stuff and continued to work on his repairs.

“I have to tell you something Rocket,” Gamora spoke in hushed tones as she worked through his fur.“Yeah what?”

“…How much have you told Groot. About what happened on Xandar?” Rocket’s ears pricked up.

“Nothing. I mean, I told him how we met and everything, told him about the good times and a lot of the bad. Told him how we met you guys but nothing about….wait why are you even askin me?” He looked over his shoulder at her. She focused intently on the knots in his fur and grimaced.

“Peter told me…that Groot asked him about…what happened before his pot”“I swear to the gods if star fucker…”

“He didn’t say anything Rocket. He would never say anything without talking to you first. But you…you have to tell Groot. That’s probably why he’s been…so restless.” The racconooid laughed bitterly.

“Restless, tsch, that’s one way to put it.” Gamora sighed.“You need to tell him.”

“I can’t!” Rocket exploded, turning to face her. “He’s my best friend and….”

“That’s the point Rocket, he’s not your best friend.” She spoke not unkindly. “Not anymore. He’s his own person and he’s trying to figure out who that is. The more you keep from him, the worse off he’ll be. If you love him like I know you do…you’ll tell him.”

“I know he ain’t my best friend no more!!” he snarled, clenching his fists against the hot burning fire in his limbs and turning away once more. His vision swam as he blinked away the black shadows on the edge of his site. “…I made peace with that,” he coughed through his pain. “More or less.” Gamora finished cleaning the bolts and gently spread more ointment over the raised scars. Rocket bit his lip as she carefully wet a rag and dampened the bleeding scabs around the metal. “….I know this Groot ain’t the one who saved us but….every time I look at him I see him and…I just…” Rocket closed his eyes and the large flora colossus, smiling and staring at butterflies came into full view. “I miss him so much,” tears welled in his eyes, running with the water that ran down his back. Gamora fiddled with a knot in his fur, disentangling it and stroking his fur rhythmically.

“I miss him too Rocket,” she whispered. “He sacrificed his life, not only for you but for me as well. After hardly knowing me…after I hacked off his arms and sliced his torso. “No one had ever done that for me…a tool of Thanos…”

“You are NOT a tool of that psycho Gams, I don’t know how many times I have to tell yah.”“I didn’t deserve it. But he gave his life for mine and…I will never be able to repay that debt. But I try, every day, to help raise this Groot with patience…and forgiveness and love. It’s the least I can do.” Rocket nodded at her quiet voice.

“I just don’t want him to end up like me,” he repeated. Gamora straightened and wiped at the edge of her eye.

“Would that be so bad?” She joked, wiping down the last of his cybernetics and gave him a strong pat. Rocket grinned but felt his heart fall. He can’t be like me…I don’t want him to be so broken…so afraid…

“Thank you Gams,” he managed.“

Anytime Rock, now…I think Groot just needs… BEEP, BEEP,BEEP red lighting flooded the room.

“Shit!” The raccoonoid scurried down from his seat and pressed the comms button. “Quill! What the flark is going on?!” Star-Lord’s voice came in grainy and broken,

“A….sh…ship…must’ve tracked us from C…con..tra…tracxia and waited util we were further..e…enough out…” Bam! Bam, bam, bam, the room pitched and banked on to it’s side sending a rattling throughout the chamber. Gamora whipped out her sword instantly.

“Ravagers?!”

“I…if they are…I do..don’t know em! Just..g..get up here now!”

“Fuck balls,” Rocket scrambled for his gun, hefting over both of his shoulders and ran after Gamora, his tail struggling to balance him as he ran to the cockpit. “Didn’t you upgrade our security systems?” She asked, stumbling forward and grabbing on to the railing.

“I did! I don’t know how they spotted us!” Drax’s thundering footfalls came up behind them, and Rocket slid to the side letting out an involuntary yelp. Shame welled in his stomach watching the warrior go, knives brandished like a mad man. If Groot wanted anything to do with him, he’d be perched on his shoulder right now. Granted still not as high as before, but better then running on the ground, terrified of being stepped on. Rocket adjusted his weight on the gun as he barged into the cockpit. The ship spun and the whole team fell crashing on top of each other,

“Blam!”

“Fuck!” Peter gripped the wheel tight and pulled the Milano up. On his stomach, Rocket leapt off of Drax’s chest and scanned the room. Groot stood up, growing a vine outward and attaching himself to the wall of the Milano.

“Groot! Groot yah alright?” Groot’s eyes only locked on the sky ahead, black but littered with lights as the rounds from the ship pelted them.

“Rocket! Give me a status update!” The raccoooid tore his eyes away from Groot and made his way to the co-pilot seat, rigging up the port and starboard guns.

“They ain’t aiming for the body of the ship so they’re after the cargo. Otherwise they’d just blast us with one of their glarking canyons.”

“Let us board them!” Drax shouted over the fire as the Milano swooped under another round of fire. “I will destroy them!”

“No! We need to loose em!” Gamora shouted.

“I am Groot!”

“No! We’re not going into space are you crazy? We can’t possibly fight out…Ah!!” Rocket felt himself get thrown forward as fire riddled the ship, making everything vibrate.

“I am Groot!” He slowly watched the teen try to make his way back down the hall, that stubborn look on his face.

“What the hell was that?!” Peter asked, staring wide eyed at the controls before him.

“Alert, alert, alert, engine down. Alert, alert, alert, engine down.” Quill tugged at the wheel, punched the thrusters. Rocket snarled in frustration, firing the rear guns. The enemy ship gained on them, not twelve paces away, firing off from all of their small scale arms.

“Fuck!” Rocket yelled over the gun fire. Drax, Mantis and Gamora slid to the left, beer bottles rolled across the floor. “They’re sending they’re guys out!” He watched on his camera pad as several small figures, attached to the colossus ship leapt out of a portside lock in full space-protected armor.

“How is that possible?” Gamora asked in awe, clutching the back of Quill’s chair. BAM, BBBAAAMMMMBB, there was a ripping sound of grating metal and Rocket watched in terror as a fireball hit against the ship.

“Peter what’s the plan?” The assassin demanded.

“I’m trying to find a place to land! There’s no nearby planets!” Drax hollered as bullets grazed the glass, Mantis covered her ears and screamed.

“Kraglin! Go below to our short range missile launch and fire at the….” Rocket’s heart caught in his chest, watching the external cam. Groot! The flora colossus had attached himself to the Milano with a braid of vines and was shouting at the enemies, reaching out and striking them before they got in range. Being hit with gun fire, Groot grew a protective thorny bushel out of his right arm, trying to shield himself with one arm while fighting the rest of them. Rocket unbuckled himself, sliding off the chair and balanced his way across the room.

“Rocket!” Peter shouted, “Rocket! Gamora,” Peter un-did his own buckle, signaling Gamora to take over as the ship began to slide downward. Kraglin. Rocket made his way to the main bay of the ship, stepping into his space suit. “Rocket what are you doing?!” Peter shouted,

“What’s it look like Star-Munch?” Rocket secured the buckle around his waist, steadying himself against the rocking ship.

“You’ll get torn to pieces!” Peter shouted. Rocket’s ear twitched, loading ammo into his spare pockets.

“Tsch, wouldn’t be the first time.” Peter’s brows knitted, jaw set.

“Rocket as your captain and your friend I forbid it.” Rocket looked up at him,

“I ain’t never done anything right my whole life Pete, you gotta give me this.” The words were out before Rocket knew it. Peter looked side to side, searching for something. Hands on his hips and he swallowed for a moment before meeting Rocket’s eyes. The raccoonoid couldn’t tell exactly what he saw there. Desperation, helplessness, worry…..l..love?” Peter stepped forward, pushing the button and Rocket took a breath as the door of the Milano’s clanked to open. The humie secured the cord to the anchor.

“You come back in one piece.” He ordered, “both of you. Got it?” Suction tugged at Rocket and the made his way to the edge, looking out at the enemy ship, he could see Groot struggling to combat two of the suited aliens.

“Rocket…” Peter began, but the raccoonoid only turned over his shoulder. Shoving down the image of Yondu with those same sad eyes. He saluted the humie, took a deep breath and vaulted out into the unforgiving vacuum of space.

[lastwaterbender]

Notbroken

Rating M (For sensitive topic)

Description: While saving a planet, the Guardians fun into someone from Gamora’s past that sends her for a tailspin. Peter enlists the help of Nebula to help understand what is going on with Gamora.This story mentions past sexual abuse, please be warned-it’s not graphic but still there.

Let me know what you think. 

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12806145

He had lost sight of her for half a second.

They were fighting known Thanos supporters that had raided a Spartaxian outpost on Korvalis V. It was a bold move, being so close to Spartax and the Guardians were closer.

They barely had the upper hand when Nova Corps arrived and he scanned the ruins for his team. Rocket was taking out some low level thugs, who were looting with Groot on his shoulder. Drax was doing his thing and Mantis was helping move scared Spartaxian villagers to safety. Kraglin was keeping up on taking out his own set of thugs while trying to help Mantis, but he couldn’t see Gamora.

Not that he was worried about her, she could take care of herself, but he still worried.

As he shot three more attackers, he heard something weird in his communicator-it was like a strangled gasp, so soft that he nearly missed it. “What was that?” He asked looking around for his crew again.

Rocket looked just as perplexed as he did. “I don’t know, could be someone hacking our frequency.” He commented.

Something didn’t feel right about that, the gasp sounded like Gamora. “Where is Gamora?” He asked.

He got shrugs from everybody but little Groot. “I am Groot.” He said pointing in the direction he had seen her leave in.

“Thanks buddy.” Peter said and trotted off in that direction.

There was a trail of bodies, congruent with Gamora kicking ass. There were families trying to gather each other up all looking a little relieved. “Have you seen a woman, extremely beautiful and green skin, about yay high, wearing black?” He asked a group of them, his hand at Gamora height.  

“She’s around the corner.” Said an old woman with a crooked finger. “I think she was out numbered, but I don’t think that would be a problem.”

Peter nodded his thanks and trotted a little further down the road. When he glanced down an alleyway, his heart literally stopped beating. There were a path of bodies that littered the road and two people who were very much alive at the end. There was a very large man, Kree obviously, broad shoulders and bald head, he had Gamora pressed to the wall with his face dangerously close to hers whispering something to her, one arm was on her airway and covering her mouth with his large hand. She was covered in blood, it dripped down her face and her arms from what he could see and he couldn’t tell who the majority of it belonged to. Her clothes were torn, green skin contrasted the black.

His other hand was on her waist with his fingers tucked under the waistband of her pants.

When Gamora opened her eyes, Peter could see fear and knew that she was powerless against this asshole, whose hand cupped her breast and gave it a squeeze. Peter took a shot, not asking questions or waiting for things to play out, he didn’t even call out to give Gamora a chance to take out the man. He knew immediately what this man wanted to do to her and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

Peter reacted, shooting him right in the chest. The large Kree man stood there for a moment confused, before falling to his knees and falling to the side. Peter put another hole into his head for good measure before trotting over to her before her legs gave out, her eyes rolled back into her head as she lost consciousness.

“Gamora!” He cried as he scooped her up into his arms. “Come on, wake up!”

She was unresponsive and cold but her breathing was shallow, he reacted and took off down the alleyway back to the Milano.

The streets were filled with disheveled people, already starting to build themselves back up when the woman who pointed him after Gamora spotted him. “Come! Lay her here, let us heal her!” She said and Peter nodded, following the woman into her house. “Lay her on the couch, I will fetch the doctor.”

He did as he was asked and a wet cloth found its way into his hand. He started with her face, the scar on her cheek had been opened, as well as a cut at her hairline that would probably be a new silver scar on her beautiful face.

A bowl found its way next to him and he went on to the rest of the cuts that had seemed to be slowing down. She had cuts down her arms that already seemed to be healing themselves, he thanked every god out there for her regenerative healing.

The gash at her side was deep and still bleeding, he put pressure to stifle it when the woman returned with a man and a woman carrying medical kits. “This is Doctor Finn and Doctor Farraday.” She introduced and took a step back to allow them the space to work.

Peter took a step back for them to work.

It didn’t take long for Gamora to come to and before Peter could blink, she had the male doctor by the throat, knocking all the medical supplies onto the floor.

“Gamora! Hey it’s okay, they are trying to help you.” Peter reacted placing a hand on her wrist, and when she turned to look at him, she looked feral. She let go of her grip on the Doctor and turned her bruising grip to his wrist. “It’s me, Peter. You’re safe, Gamora.”

It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up with her body and for her to release her grip as if his skin was on fire. There was pure panic in her eyes as she scanned the room for signs of danger. “Norrath?” She wheezed.

Peter looked her over, she was looking for the man who attacked her. “He’s dead.” Peter assured, he could feel her anxiety bubble to the surface. “I shot him.”

She shot up to her feet. “We have to get off this planet, Peter.” She pleaded in panic, there was something in her voice that Peter couldn’t tell her no. He had never seen her like this before.

“Okay, don’t you want to have these nice doctors stitch you up first?” He asked, putting his hands out to catch her if she swayed. She shook her head as she took her first unsteady step, Peter caught her gently, but not without her flinching. “Thank you for your help.”

The old lady nodded, only slightly offended, but didn’t notice Gamora lifting a cloak off the chair as they left her house. “Gamora, what is going on?” He asked once outside, she put the cloak on and placed the hood over her head.

“When he finds out that Norrath is dead. . .” She said and winced in pain.

“What are you talking about?” He tried to pry as he kept a protective distance away from her.

Gamora didn’t even dignify that with an answer. “Let Nova Corps finish with this.” She insisted as they reached the square, it was mostly quiet now-all the thugs either captured or dead. She stopped and turned around to face him, she looked terrified. “Peter, we have to get off this planet. Please.” There was something in her voice and he couldn’t deny her anything.

“Okay.” He said, reaching out for her only for her to pull her arm away in recoil, something that she had never done before-she always welcomed his small touches. “Let’s get out of here.” He tried to keep the hurt from his voice, but he understood she had just been through something traumatic and needed some time to process it. He pressed his communicator on. “Come on guys, let’s get out of here.”

Not fifteen minutes later, they stood in the cramped bay of the Milano. Rocket and Kraglin took piloting duties leaving the others in the common area. Gamora looked like she was going to pass out at any minute, be it from shock or blood loss he wasn’t sure. “Are you okay?” Peter asked her quietly, to not draw attention to her.

She was trembling under the cloak. “I’m fine.” She answered.

“Will you let me look at your side?” He asked, reaching out to brush the cloak away from her to see her wound. “I think you are going to need stitches.”

She slapped his hand away roughly. “I’m fine.” She snapped. “I’m going to take a shower.”  She disappeared.

Mantis looked absolutely nauseous, Peter placed a comforting hand on her arm. “She’s really upset.” She said softly and he nodded. Taking a seat at the table, rested his head in my hands.

“She was pretty freaked out about leaving.” Peter said to Drax as he looked up, who placed a mug of something in front of him. “I’m pretty sure she knew who the leader was.”

Drax nodded. “That group may be Thanos sympathizers.” Drax said.

His stomach dropped, if the group fought on behalf of Thanos, then Gamora definitely knew who he was. The way he was whispering to her looked as if he had knows who she was as well and if Norrath was the leader of the group, Thanos would want to take out who brought down this man. But it felt way more personal than that. Peter jumped to his feet. “I’m going to go make a call, will you go up to the bridge and tell them to keep their eyes spotted for anything suspicious.” He asked Drax, who only nodded.

Peter disappeared to the cargo bay, for privacy, he didn’t want Gamora to overhear his conversation when she was in a sensitive state.

When her familiar blue face filled the screen, she looked annoyed. Then again, Nebula always looked annoyed. “Quill.” She greeted in her deadpanned voice.

He took a deep breath. “Hey Nebula.” He said, trying to not sound absolutely terrified of the woman.

“To what do I owe this honor?” She asked, flipping a couple of switches to turn her ship to autopilot. Peter was silent for a moment, trying to gather his words wisely. Nebula was always one to get pissed off rather quickly before they could get answers from her. “I take it that it has something to do with my sister?”

His shoulders sagged. “Do you know who Norrath is?”

Her look turned dark, something in her machinery sparked and the feeling in Peter’s stomach sunk. “He is Thanos’ first and favorite son.” Nebula said after trying to find the right words to describe him. Peter suddenly felt sick to his stomach. “He wasn’t kidnapped from his home planet, he voluntarily joined Thanos. He is one sick sonofabitch.”

And that was Nebula saying that.

“And Gamora. . .?” Peter couldn’t even finish the question, he felt nauseous. His panic level went up two notches and he took a deep breath to calm himself. It was no use panicking before he had all the information.

Nebula looked away and it made Peter’s stomach drop. “This isn’t my story to tell.”

Peter hissed out a breath. “Please, Gamora needs my help and I need to understand what is going on in her head.”

Nebula’s face softened, contrary to popular belief Gamora was a soft spot for Nebula. “She was betrothed to him.” She answered, Peter had to sit down on a crate to keep himself from falling. “He used to force himself on her, use her for whatever disgusting fantasy he had and if she fought back, she would be killed.”

Peter doubled over, nearly dropping the tablet as it had gotten harder to breathe. Thanos was going to force her to marry that monster. “She was young, twelve or thirteen maybe.” Nebula added, it twisted the knife in his stomach. “Thanos’ goal was to breed her, because their offspring would be unstoppable. She was the only one of us that hadn’t had that body modification.”

His heart seemed to be racing. “Thanos’ only rule was that he couldn’t get her pregnant until they were married, the old romantic.” She sneered, the sound of hatred dripped in her voice and she closed her eyes as if she could hear Gamora’s screams again. “Their wedding was supposed to happen after everything with the Accuser, but Gamora defected. I would assume Norrath has been searching the galaxy for her. He never was the best tracker.”

He ran a hand through his light curls. “She has never mentioned any of this.” He sighed, he felt awful that he didn’t know anything about the torture she endured from this asshole. She spoke sometimes of the stuff that Thanos’ did to her, but it was cake compared to years of sexual abuse. “I had no idea. . .” It was why she sometimes flinched when he touched her gently, or why she forced her fist closed when they were in crowds.

Nebula gave him a sad look. “It’s not something that she likes to relive.” Nebula answered. “It’s not something I want to remember either.” She got quiet for a moment, Peter could swear that a tear escaped her eye, not that he knew if she could cry. “Thanos made us all watch the first time as his guards held her down to prove that it was actually her first time. . .”

Peter dropped the tablet and ran over to a bucket in the corner, emptying the contents of his stomach into it. He wiped his mouth and slowly walked back towards the boxes he had sat on and picked up the tablet to a patient looking Nebula. “When I find him, I am going to tear his skin off piece by piece and then choke him with his intestines.” She announced.

His shoulders drooped. “I killed him.” He said, but her way was better. He wanted him to suffer, just like he did to Gamora. Nebula looked almost pleased. “I came down the alley, he had his hands on her and there was blood everywhere, I shot him.”

“Good.” Nebula said folding her arms.

Peter looked absolutely helpless. “What do I do?” He asked and Nebula raised her brow ridge. “How do I help her? She looked so broken. . .”

“She’s not broken, she hasn’t been broken since she met you.” Nebula looked away and took a heavy breath.

He bit his lip, it nearly broke him.

“Just do what you always do, Quill.” She answered, her tone was soft and not something he would expect to come from her. “You take care of her.” Oddly cryptic, coming from Nebula.

He sighed heavily, at a loss for what to do. “I ….”

“Listen Quill, I’m only going to say this once.” She said firmly, her long skinny finger pointed in his direction. “For some reason, my sister likes you. I still don’t know why she hasn’t cut your head off yet, because I would have done it a long time ago.It might not seem like it right now, but she trusts you with her life. But for what it's worth, if there is anybody in this entire godforsaken universe who I trust to take care of her, it’s you Peter Quill. ”

That was the nicest thing that anybody had ever said to him. “Thanks Nebula.” He said, feeling a little better at approaching Gamora.

She nodded. “Take care of her, Peter.” She said. “Or I will kill you myself.”

He chuckled as he disconnected the call, he took a deep breath to stabilize himself. It wasn’t going to be easy to scale the walls that she rebuilt around her, but she was worth it. He got up and went back to the common room on the Milano, where Mantis and Drax sat at the table.

A steady stream of tears flowed down Mantis’ cheeks. “She is in so much pain.” Mantis cried, Drax’s large hand rested on her back trying to sooth her.

Peter nodded. “I know.” He answered with a heavy sigh. “I’ll take care of her.”

“She may act like she doesn’t want you there, but deep inside she knows you are the only one she wants with her.” Mantis said quietly, normally he would chide her for reading emotions without permission, but now it was reassuring as he took the steps towards the bathroom. He could hear the water still running and he took a deep breath before he knocked softly on the door.

Silence.

“Gamora?” He asked through the door. “Gamora, can I come in?”

Still silence.

Another deep breath before he turned the handle and stepped inside.

It crushed him to see her like this, curled up on the floor in the shower, shoulder shaking under soft sobs. He crossed the threshold in two large steps, pulling the door open and turning off the water that had turned ice cold. He said nothing as he reached for the towel off the rack and placed it over her, very carefully wrapping it around her small frame, helping her into a seated position. “Hey, it’s me.” He said softly, unsure just how much she was processing things at the moment. She didn’t tense at his touch, probably because she was numb. “It’s Peter. I’m going to lift you up, okay?”

She didn’t respond to him. It was even worse when she didn’t react when he scooped her up into his arms, her wet hair soaking through his shirt-it caused him to shiver because it was ice cold. As he entered the hallway, he looked back at the common area and found it vacated-Mantis and Drax giving them privacy.

He took her into his bedroom, knowing that he had all the medical supplies should she need it. Peter sat her on the bed, keeping a hand on her as he reached for another towel from the back of his chair. He had to dry her hair because the cold ship air would make her sick, or at least he  thought it would. Carefully he squeezed out the water in her hair, he’d brush it later, probably braid it too.

She was quiet, too quiet. The sobbing had subsided the second he turned the water off. Peter kneeled down to look her in the eyes before he spoke. “I’m going to help you dry off and get you into warm clothes.” He said and she blinked slowly.

A slow blink.

He was going to take that chance, he reached for one of his clean shirts and fed her head through the right hole before gently shoving her arms inside the sleeves. She was being surprisingly compliant.

As he put reached for a pair of boxer shorts and slid them up her legs, his fingers innocently brushed up her thigh and her skin erupted in goosebumps. She reacted, her bare leg landed squarely on his chest throwing him into the drawers a meter back. “Ooof!” He wheezed, she blinked a couple of times before the panic filled her face again.

Peter pushed himself up to a seated position. “Hey, it’s okay! I’m sorry, I wasn’t . . .” He started, as he got up, it hurt.

“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry. . .” She pushed herself back on the bed, scooting towards the headboard, burying her face into her knees.

He sat next to her on the bed. “Gamora.” He soothed softly.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean….” She cried before her shoulders started to shake around her knees.

“I’m okay.” He said, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, but he didn’t want to upset her even further. He hated seeing her tremble like this and he hated Norrath for putting this fear in her. “I’ve got a pretty hard head.” Hoping to get a reaction out of her, he failed.

She didn’t move, her soft heavy breaths filled the room and he was at a loss of what to do for her. He took a deep breath before he chose his words wisely. “I know what that bastard did to you when you were a child.” He said, his voice quiet and somber. She tensed as if he had dug a knife into her side and a soft cry escaped her lips. “And I know he had every intention of hurting you again before I showed up.”

Her shoulders stilled. “I called Nebula, I wanted to know who this sonofabitch was. The look on your face when I came around the corner. . . you had to have known who he was.” He couldn’t get the look of sure terror and helplessness on her face. She was powerless against him.

She hissed in a gasp, still trembling next to him. He suddenly felt bad for invading her privacy, but he wasn’t going to apologize for it. “I just wanted to know how to help you.”

Her hands clenched into a fist, open and closed a couple of times and Peter prepared himself to be beat to a bloody pulp. If it made her feel better, then it would be worth it. But she didn’t move, her hands smoothing out on her bare legs. She took a couple of deep breaths, her shoulders rising and falling with each one. “I recognized his symbol when we got off the ship.” She whispered, so softly that he nearly missed it.

Peter’s heart hurt. She knew that he was there and didn’t say anything, nothing seemed out of the ordinary when they got off the ship. “They lured me down the alleyway, I knew it was a trap.” She whispered and he tried to bite back any anger because she hadn’t mentioned anything about knowing him. “He kills children, Peter. He slaughters them for fun while their parents have to watch, I had to be quick. . . I had to distract him while you guys dealt with the rest.”

He hissed out the breath that he was holding. He wanted to reach out for her, pull her into his chest and block out all the evil from the universe, but he stayed put. “I got to the end of the alley and he had a child in his hands. . . I told him to take me instead, that I was the one he wanted. I . . .” She continued, she used herself as a sacrifice to save the child. In the blink of an eye she jumped up from the bed and trotted into the bathroom with Peter on her heels as she threw up in the toilet.

Peter held her hair back with one hand and the other rubbing soft circles on her back, automatically. He spoke softly to soothe her until her dry heaves stopped, when she finished her tucked herself into Peter’s embrace, her face buried into his collarbone as he maneuvered them into a sitting position on the floor of the bathroom and he wrapped his arms tightly around her as she started to sob again.

He did his best to still her shaking shoulders. “I had to tell him that I was sorry for running away, for ruining our wedding-in order for him to let the child go.” She cried. “He believed me and he actually let the child go and I had. . . he said he forgave me and then he pushed me up against the wall, he said missed me as he. . .” Her grip on his shirt tightened as she tried to suppress the of his body against hers.

Peter pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “You saved that child’s life at the expense of opening old wounds, Gamora. You are the hero here.”  He whispered softly. “You didn’t deserve what this asshole did to you.”

Her sobs came out harder. Years of trauma followed by years of hiding came out with each shudder of her shoulders and Peter held on tightly, riding the turbulent waves that coursed through her body. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered into her ear.

It took what felt like eternity for her to calm down enough that her shoulders stopped shaking, her face buried into his chest and hiding from the world. Her breathing slowed and Peter assumed that she had fallen asleep against him. “If you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you.” He said to her still form. “Whenever you're ready

“I don’t ever want to remember it.” She whispered softly, her voice hoarse from crying. He tightened his grip around her. “Each time, he took a little piece of me with him. . .” There was a soft hiccup. “And I finally felt that I had gotten it all back. . .” A small sniffle escaped her. “I was so. . .” She couldn’t find the words she was looking for.

“I know.” He whispered, his lips against her head. “I know you were scared, I was scared too. I . . . Jesus Christ Gamora, when I saw you and him. . .” He was swept up in the wave of emotions that he had to stop before he started to cry. “I just wish I could’ve. . .”

She turned her head and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw to still him. “Thank you.” She said in a whisper, before tucking herself under his chin her ear resting against his chest and the steady hum of his heart calming her. “For killing him.”’

“You’re welcome.” He answered softly. He smiled as he brushed his nose against hers, he was being cautious with his touch in fear of setting her off again. He moved his hand to cup her cheek, a tear escaped his eye, which she caught with her hand. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.” He said, his own voice hoarse, she hummed in response but didn’t speak. “I won’t let it happen again.” A whisper.

They fell into silence, he was sure that she had succumbed to her exhaustion until she shivered against him. Her hair was still wet and she still only wear a shirt, he was sure that she she was uncomfortable. “Come on.” He said with his lips against her head. He helped her up and kept a hand on her as he got up from the floor.

“I need to brush my teeth.” She whispered and he nodded, pulling out a spare brush from the cabinet. He left her there alone for a moment, so that he could turn down the bed for her to climb into-the thought of her going to her own bed was never an option. He picked up the boxer shorts that had ended up on the floor when she threw him across the room and exchanged them for a pair of sweatpants, to keep her legs warm.

He heard her shuffle in behind him and he turned to face her. She looked a little more human this time. He handed her the pants, watching as she slid them on her legs, they were too long for her and pooled at her ankles and she had to roll down the waistband a couple of times to keep them on her waist. She took a couple of steps and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Peter.” She whispered.

He gave her a softer version of his crooked smile. “You’re welcome.” He said, his hand moving to her cheek. “Come on, off to bed.”

Gamora obeyed, crawling into bed. Peter, covered her up with the blanket and a sudden panic filled Gamora. “Please stay.” She pleaded and Peter nodded, stripping down to just his undershirt and boxer shorts, he crawled into bed with her and she curled into him, not flinching when he moved to wrap an arm around her.

There was a soft sigh and soon her eyes fluttered closed.

Peter soon let his mind slow down enough to doze off.

/

He wasn’t sure how long he had dozed off for, when he heard Rocket’s little footsteps outside in the hall. His door opened with a soft creak and soon he was standing next to Peter. “You awake, Pete?” He asked softly.

Peter blinked a couple of times and looked down at Gamora, whose nose was buried into his chest. “Yeah, what’s up?” He asked lifting his head to look at him.

Rocket handed him the datapad. “Nebula insisted on speaking with you.” He said, sounding exasperated. “She said that she would fly across the friggin universe to turn me into a handbag if I didn’t find you or your body.”

“Thanks buddy.” He said, turning the screen to see Nebula’s face on the other side. He held the tablet in such a way that she could see Gamora sleeping at his side. “Hey Nebula.”

“I see that you must have done something right, you are still breathing.” She greeted, he could see the careful look of relief on her face.

He smirked. “You have little faith in me.”

“You’re point?” Nebula shrugged. “Is she doing okay?” Nebula asked, it was a question that sounded so unfamiliar coming from her lips.

“She’s doing as well as can be expected.” He answered looking at her fondly, running a hand up and down her arm to sooth her as she tensed against him from nightmares, soon she settled. “Not great, but she’s okay.”

“Good.” Nebula answered before she looked away for a moment. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

Peter looked down at the sleeping form against him as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head to hide the flush in his cheeks, it was high praise coming from her. He looked up at the screen again. “We’ll get through this.”

“Or die trying.” Nebula added, a small smirk filling her lips.

“Or die trying.” He repeated with a soft chuckle. “Thank you for your help earlier.”

Nebula sat a little straighter and nodded. “You are an honorable man, Peter Quill. Keep it that way or I will fly across the universe and. . .” Peter raised his eyebrow expectantly. “Use your imagination, I don’t care.”

It was the second time that someone had called him honorable, the woman in his arms the first and her sister-who by all definition was the bad guy, the second. It felt nice to know that she had held him in such high regards to take care of Gamora. “Kind of lazy. . .” He teased and she rolled her eyes, status quo returned.

“Goodnight Peter.” She said before disconnecting the phone.

He rolled his eyes and handed the datapad back to Rocket. “And goodnight.” He mumbled to himself. “Thanks Rocket.”

Rocket nodded, he didn’t actually know what was going on but he respected them enough to not ask questions. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t fancy being turned into a bag.” He answered.

“Not really your style?” Peter asked with a soft laugh.

“Naaa. Alive and breathing is more my style.” He said before sobering up. “She okay?”

Peter looked down at her again. “She will be.” Peter answered, Rocket nodded and excused himself with the door swooshing down behind him.

Silence filled the room once again, save for Peter pulling up the blanket around her and a soft hum as he made himself comfortable. “Should I be worried about you conspiring with my sister?” Gamora mumbled, her eyes still closed.

If Peter and Nebula had one thing in common, it would be their love for this woman-who was taken from her home and raised to do awful things, she was betrothed to a madman who took away her innocence, and yet now strived to be the good in the universe.

He pressed another kiss to the top of her head and rubbed her arm, pulling her as close to him as possible. “We are just two people who will go to the ends of the universe for the same person.” He said, his lips not leaving her head. Gamora nuzzled her nose into his chest, he could see the dark flush rise on her cheeks.

Silence surrounded them again. “She likes you.” Gamora said breaking the silence, he looked down at her as she gave a weak crooked smile. “Don’t tell her I say that.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss between her brows. “She’s still terrifying,” He whispered. “But don’t tell her I like her too.”

[fanficsandfluff]

Guardians of the Galaxy: Half a World Away

One of the darker fics I’ve written, but skip to the very end if you want a half a second of tickles and fluff. The majority of this is Rocket and Peter dealing with pain and torture. I actually had to do some research for this one, since it was a request. I didn’t know what Halfworld was, but I hope my small bit of research got it accurately enough. 

Words: 3,083

Plunk, plunk. 

Wet, moist. Each new drip of some liquid reached Rocket’s ears, and they twitched until he finally rose. He groaned. Everything hurt, and he was sure some of his ribs weren’t in the spot they were supposed to be. 

The creaking of metal and rust and even the occasional distant footsteps. Something was familiar about all of this. Where the hell was he? What happened? 

Right, a stupid space fight. What else? They were all together fighting off a frickin’ army of... something, the name escaped his mind. But he and Peter got separated from the group. They encountered more. More and more and--

A shrill scream sounded in the distance. Rocket cringed and he walked to the bars of his cage. He finally got a good look at his surroundings. He was in a damn cage. The rusted metal, the leaky pipes, the screams. No. 

It can’t be. No, it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be back here. Rocket never thought he’d be back here in his lifetime, as he swore it to himself. His breathing quickened and he gripped onto the bars so tight his knuckles went numb. No no no no. Flashes. Bright flashes of pain. A white light, blinding. The shrieking and obvious terrified squeaks from an animal. Some animal. Some poor, poor animal. The first time, pain so immense he passed out. The next four times, passed out. But on the fifth and every day forward, a conscience was born. He’d stay awake. Awake for the pulls and tugs and shredding. 

Rocket walked backwards until his back hit the back of the cage and he slumped down, cowering. His eyes were filled with tears. 

Limb from limb, over and over again. Ripped apart, reassembled. Arms removed, shoulders broadened, bones shifted and added, arms burned back on. Finished? No. More work needed to be done. He can think, he can breathe, he lives. But he isn’t living. All he is is a mind beaten by pain and torture. 

Don’t scream. A muzzle is attached. Searing pain cuts open his back, like a hot knife through butter. Nuts and bolts and metal rods are inserted into his spine. Now he can stand up straight. Complete? Am I the perfect living thing yet? No. 

Rocket whimpered as tears slipped down his cheeks and trickled down his whiskers, sliding to the end and falling off. 

“No no no...” he kept repeating, shivering and jerking at vivid memories, “No more... Please!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, begging. No more pain. No more! It was torture! I’m perfect already, please just stop! I want to die. Kill me!

“Rocket!”

The raccoon opened his eyes, chest heaving and body shaking. Who was that? Who knew his name? Quill. He didn’t answer. It couldn’t be Peter Quill. He was back at Halfworld, he had no friends here. 

Peter was in a cell adjacent to Rocket’s. And he remembered clearly everything that happened to them prior to being knocked out and shipped to this random prison-like place. These guys in full-body masked suits came up to them and drugged them. They were fighting damn well, too. But he woke when he heard screaming. Rocket’s screaming. What the hell were they doing to him!? No one tortures his goddamn friends!

“Rocket?” Peter called out again when he got no response. He stood up and looked around. He didn’t see another cage. 

“Noho!” Rocket wailed. Peter’s head shot to the right and he walked to the wall of the cell. He put his hand against it. 

“Rocket! Rocket, where are you?” 

“No more! P-Please! Please... stop....” Rocket whimpered again and slumped to the floor, cowering in a ball. It was too much. He was too deep into his imagination and memories. 

Peter’s eyes were wide. What the hell was happening? He did deduce that Rocket’s cell was directly beside his. He pressed up close to the wall and spoke, “Hey! Whoever the hell you are, you leave him alone!” he still assumed someone was administering torture to his friend. Then again, he didn’t hear another presence. There weren’t any other noises that suggested foul play other than Rocket’s constant screaming. 

“Rocket... Rocket, buddy, it’s me,” Peter knelt close to the ground, speaking into the wall. 

“I’m done! I don’t need anymore, please!” Rocket’s cries continued. He was being torn apart and put back together again like a toy doll. Over and over again. 

Peter frowned and he was worried someone would hear him and maybe come and do who knows what to silence him, “Rocket, listen to me! Do you hear me?” 

And Rocket groaned some more, sniffling. He could hear Peter. He knew it. He had to be there. 

“P-Peter...” Rocket whispered. 

Peter heard his name and he smiled in relief in his cell, “Yeah! Yeah, Rocket, I’m right here. Buddy, it’s okay. I’m here.” 

God, this was an odd scenario for Peter. He was the one constantly needing assurance and comfort from the group. It was literally always his ass acting like an insecure baby who needed love and care. But dammit to hell, he could dole it out, too. 

Rocket crawled himself to the wall he heard Peter’s voice coming from. Or at least the wall he assumed it was coming from. Everything was echoing and shaky, especially blurry. 

“I-I can’t...” Rocket exhaled.

“The hell does that mean?” Peter tried to keep a lighter edge to everything, despite the nerve-rattling moans he heard Rocket making, “You can. And I need you to right now. Focus for me. We gotta get outta here, Rocket.”

Rocket sighed and another few tears leaked from his eyes, “W-We can’t... it’s impossible.”

Peter rose a brow, “Impossible? Says the guy who’s broken out of dozens of prisons. No one’s hurting you, Rocket. You have to snap out of it.” 

“I-I’m scared, Pete...” Rocket shivered. 

All of a sudden, a chorus of footsteps were heard. Peter looked towards his caged bars and saw two of those same completely covered alien-things standing at his cell. Another two passed his cell and he heard Rocket scream. 

“Hey!” Peter stood up and slammed on the cell wall, “You leave him alone!” 

The two guards at his cell opened it up and Peter started swinging at them immediately. He only managed to hit one before he was taken down and tazed with a cattle prod. His vision went blurry, but he knew he was being hoisted to his feet, cuffed, and began getting led away from the cell. He could see slightly in front of him. He saw a struggling raccoon, pleading and screaming. That wasn’t Rocket. Rocket didn’t plead for anything. 

“No! Rocket!” Peter shouted, getting another jolt with the tazer. He groaned and slumped forward, darkness surrounding him. 

When he woke, he was in a bright room. Too bright to even properly open his eyes. 

“Finally, you’re awake,” an odd, fuzzy voice spoke to Peter. It was clearly either disguised or some voice he’d never heard the inflections of before. 

“W-Where’s... Where’s my friend?” Peter asked and he squinted his eyes open. 

“Back home,” the voice let out an evil chuckle. 

Peter didn’t know what that meant and he almost didn’t want to, but he had to get out of here and find Rocket. 

“Why don’t you tell us how you know your friend. Rocket Raccoon, I believe you call him,” the voice sounded in the room. 

Peter only now realized he was strapped to a chair with something strapped to his head, “Screw you,” he huffed. 

But the minute he said that, a sharp jolt of electricity stemming from his head shot through his entire body. Peter jolted upwards in the chair, but the straps held him down. He screamed loudly, feeling like his whole body was on fire. When the sensations stopped, Peter slumped in the chair, taking deep breaths. 

“How do you know 89P13?”

Peter took in a breath and he spat, “Go to hell.”

This time, one of the henchmen walked into the room, right up to Peter, and clocked him in the jaw. Peter tasted blood and he spit, knowing a tooth of some kind was certainly dislodged. 

And this repeated for an unknown amount of time. For Peter, this felt like eternity. It brought back his own memories of being tortured for being part of the Ravagers, getting caught, and then interrogated about their inner workings for hours. But he would not say a single thing about Rocket. 

Bloodied, weak, bruised. Peter felt he couldn’t hold out anymore. His head hung in the seat, eyes shut because they were muddled with blood and swelled from being punched. 

He heard the sound of scuffling somewhere near. A gun was shot. And then the door to this room slid open and a knife was slashed through the alien, cutting him clean down the middle, severing him. 

“Peter!” it was Gamora. She quickly ran to his bound body and untied him.

Peter lifted a shaking arm and gripped Gamora’s shoulder tightly, looking her in the eye best he could, “W-Where’s Rocket?”

“Drax got him. Peter, we have to leave,” Gamora insisted, helping Star-Lord to his feet. She led him out to where the ship was waiting for them. Gamora laid Peter on the ground once they were safely inside the ship since she had to run and pilot the Milano. 

Peter did not yet feel relief on the ship. He tried sitting up, but he grabbed onto his ribs, “Rocket...” he gasped for breath, needing to see his friend to ensure that he was safe. A small hand touched his arm.

“I am Groot.”

Peter laid back down with a groan. Rocket was alright. Thank god. Thank god...

When Peter Quill woke up, it wasn’t in a damp, dingy cell or in a brightly lit torture room. It was in his cot on his ship, with his friends close by. He sat up but cringed and laid back down, holding his ribs. Shit, something was wrong. But he used his other senses and deduced that there were bandages all across his middle. And stitches across his face and one long scar on his chest. 

“Peter?” Gamora peeked her head into his cot after drawing back the curtain. 

Peter sighed and he tried giving her a smile.

“It’s good to see you awake,” she remarked and said, “I’ll get you some water.”

When she returned, she sat on Peter’s bed with him, trying to update him on how they located him and Rocket. 

“How-How is he?” Peter asked. He still hadn’t seen his friend.

“He’s...” Gamora sighed, “He’ll recover,” she said, unsure of her own answer. Peter frowned and he shut his eyes, grunting. 

“Sons of bitches... I’ll kill them all, Gamora. I swear to god...” Peter gritted his teeth together, giving himself a headache.

“Shh, Peter,” Gamora rubbed his arm gently. “You should rest more.” She gave him a painkiller and let him sleep off the pain some more. It would be a trying few days and weeks. 

A week later, Peter was back on his feet. He was still sore since his ribs weren’t fully healed, but he and the team agreed he could go back to work. 

“Welcome back, Star-Lord,” Gamora greeted Peter with a smile when she saw him enter the cockpit in clean clothes and a bright look in his eye. 

“Good to be back. So, where’s Rocket?” he asked, looking around at everyone else not to see the raccoon. 

They all glanced around at each other. And baby Groot pouted, mumbling, “I am Groot...”

Peter frowned, “I-I... I’m gonna try and talk to him...” and of course he was sure that the others have all tried that already. He needed to see his friend. 

Peter walked back to the cots and he pulled back the curtain covering Rocket’s. He saw the raccoon in his top bunk with a screwdriver in hand, pieces of metal laying about his bed. He was obviously trying to invent something on the spot. Rocket glanced up, figuring it was Gamora or Drax trying to get him to eat something again. But upon seeing it was Peter, face clearly scarred and bruised, he ditched his mechanics and went up to Peter. He didn’t care how this made him look. He threw his arms around Peter’s neck and hugged him. 

Peter was totally taken aback by this. No one ever touched Rocket let alone giving him hugs freely. But this was also extremely depressing. The experience drove Rocket to be so needy of touch that he was giving it out at will. Peter hugged him back. 

Rocket retreated back into his bed and he stared at Peter, “You look like shit.” 

Peter nodded, “Well, I know how much you like the look. I figured I’d treat you.”

Rocket huffed and he showed a small smile, fleeting and almost sad. But it was there. 

“How’re you... you know,” Peter asked, leaning his arms on the upper bunk bed. 

Rocket shook his head, “Don’t wanna worry you about it...”

“Well, I want you to. I ain’t leaving until I talk to you,” Peter made his point clear by climbing up into Rocket’s bed and sitting in it.

Rocket watched Peter and he sighed, “I... I don’t feel great...” he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“They tortured us,” Peter said, assuming they did the same to Rocket what they did to him, “You’re not supposed to feel great. But, I want you to know that I didn’t give them a damn thing. They asked me the same question: how do I know you? And I spit at them and told them to piss off. I thought you’d be proud,” Peter grinned softly, shrugging.

Rocket stared at Peter, an ear twitching as he listened and he sighed, shaking his head, “Oh no...” 

“What?” 

“‘S my fault...” 

“What? Rocket, no--”

“It is!” Rocket countered, “You wouldn’t have been hurt if it wasn’t for me!”

“Rocket woah woah, hold on! This isn’t because of you!”

“How isn’t it about me, Quill?” Rocket spat, “Do you know where we were? We were at Halfworld! The frickin’ looney bin for the most twisted, insane, evil...” he got choked up thinking about those sick bastards.

“Halfworld,” Peter repeated, “That’s the place where...” his eyes widened and he swallowed nervously. 

Rocket huddled into himself again and he nodded. Peter knew why Rocket was so triggered being there. All those memories. 

“What did they do to you when they separated us?” Peter asked. That was the question burning inside of him since it happened. While he was being beaten an shocked and tortured, was Rocket being treated the same?

“They ran tests on me,” Rocket sniffled, “Just made me do different tasks. Then it was at the end when I.... when I...” his eyes grew wide and terrified. 

Peter sighed and shook his head. He looked at Rocket, the usual snarky, badass raccoon he knew was still in there. But he was broken. Peter reached out a hand, to which Rocket flinched at first. But Peter went slowly and he scratched his fingers from the top of Rocket’s head to the back of his neck. Rocket sunk forward, the touch relaxing him and calming him. As Peter pet him, he paid closer attention to the metal rods sticking out of Rocket’s back. The raccoon had been in bed with a bandage around his ribs, without a shirt. So all of the deformities were visible. Peter took care to avoid them as he pet the raccoon. 

“I’ll never let that happen again.”

Rocket looked up at Peter and he nodded. Peter could tell that didn’t mean jack shit to Rocket.

“I swear. I’ll never allow you to get captured like that again. I’d let it be done to myself a dozen times over before they’d ever get to you again. I’ll go back there myself and kill them all for doing this to you.” 

Rocket couldn’t believe what Peter was saying. The funny guy leader of the group was showing him how much he cared about him. Rocket wanted to hug him again. Damn emotions. He avoided the hug by tapping Peter’s thigh and looking up at him. He hoped his eyes said all they needed to. 

“We need you back, buddy,” Peter sighed, “We’re here for you.”

Rocket nodded, “Yeah, I know. I was just waitin’ for your pretty face to talk some sense back into me.”

Peter grinned, “Ahaww, you think I’m pretty?”

Rocket chortled softly, “Don’t get used to it, Star-Bum.”

Peter cooed, “But you love me, don’t you? Come on, admit it.”

“I ain’t saying it,” Rocket pointed a finger at Peter. This was nice. The two of them back to bantering like old friends. 

Peter smiled and he chuckled, “Fihine, don’t say it. But I know you feel it. In here,” he poked where Rocket’s heart would be. 

Rocket smiled, “I think you confuse love with heartburn. Or a stomachache,” he returned his own poke to Peter’s belly. The strawberry blonde twitched and he giggled. 

“Hehey, no poke backs.”

“Says who? I don’t play by any rules,” Rocket climbed into Peter’s lap and he dug his claws into Peter’s ribs. Peter yelped at first since his ribs were still healing, but Rocket knew how to proceed so that he only hit the healed ribs that were extra sensitive. 

Peter cursed and he fell backwards on the bed, pushing half-heartedly at Rocket, “ShihiHIHIT! ROCKET! Knohock it ohoff!” 

The raccoon grinned, whiskers twitching as he wormed his small paws into Peter’s armpits. He squealed and tried curling up, arms now glued to his sides. 

“Geez, with a grip like this, I don’t know if I’ll ever get my hands back,” Rocket teased. Peter was too busy laughing to respond. To add insult to injury, Rocket slipped his fluffy tail into Peter’s rucked up shirt, brushing it back and forth against the sensitive skin. 

Peter jumped, nearly knocking Rocket off, “NOHO! NohohohahahahahaHAHA! Thahahat tihihihickles, youhu dick!” 

Rocket sniggered, “That’s the idea, ya big baby.”

Rocket was home. He had a family made up of his best friends all around him. And being able to laugh with them again was something special. He’d never take it for granted again. He now had his own world, lightyears and lightyears away from the one that created him. And he was the ruler of this world, and he damn well loved it. 

[funnythingshere0-blog]

'Ant-Man and the Wasp' and the New Era of Marvel Humor

New Post has been published on https://funnythingshere.xyz/ant-man-and-the-wasp-and-the-new-era-of-marvel-humor/

'Ant-Man and the Wasp' and the New Era of Marvel Humor

The sequel is the sweet spot when it comes to the studio’s burgeoning interest in all-out comedy.

[This story contains spoilers for Ant-Man and the Wasp.]

A goofy sense of humor isn’t just the special charm that makes the Ant-Man movies stand out in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It’s the element that holds all of its wild concepts together, whether the films are articulating the terrifying and physical possibility of going subatomic, or selling viewers on the excitement of heroes that can change sizes at the press of a button. This focus on comedy provides a elasticity with tone which helps Ant-Man and the Wasp prove it was more than just a breather from Thanos’ apocalypse in Avengers: Infinity War.

Directed by Peyton Reed as an action-comedy that’s heavy on the comedy, the film takes on comparably smaller stakes than other MCU movies, but is fueled by character work and a winning taste for comedy. After the events of Captain America: Civil War, Scott Lang is snuck out from house arrest by Hope van Dyne (Evangline Lilly) and Dr. Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) to help bring the missing Janet (Michelle Pfeiffer) out of a subatomic state. At the same time, their technology is being pursued by a woman named Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen), who is assisted by a former friend of Dr. Pym’s, Laurence Fishburne’s Bill Foster, and Walton Goggins’ greedy Sony Burch, who wants to make a lot of money off of the Quantum technology.

If its hero weren’t so down to earth in a naturally funny way, or if the comedy seemed like it was trying too hard, the entire concept wouldn’t work. Perhaps the best example of comedy’s power in Ant-Man and the Wasp comes at the midway point, when Bill and Ghost have tied up Scott, Hope and Hank and are explaining their evil plan. In a lot of other movies, this would be played straight, but in this film, Scott’s phone rings. It’s his daughter, and he thinks it might be an emergency. We find out soon enough, as Bill holds the phone in front of Ant-Man’s face pretending he isn’t in captivity, that it’s not a pressing issue.

While they use their unique hero in an often-standard narrative form, the Ant-Man movies have a special comedy storytelling tool with scenes featuring Michael Pena’s Luis, a former criminal accomplice of Lang’s who returns in the sequel trying to get his X-CON security company off the ground. His ability to weave a fast story that leads to a hilarious montage is like a superpower itself. It made for crowd-pleasing moments in the first film, when we first learned about how a robbery plan had come together, which made for a memorable closing gag at the end of the pic.

That fast-talking, always-excited charm pops again in Ant-Man and the Wasp, especially when Luis thinks he’s under a truth serum. It leads to a montage where he babbles about his mother’s stern love for Morrissey, and provides his own origin story to how he and Lang met long ago in jail.

As the movies imagine the possibilities of big and small, there’s a sense of playfulness that particularly sings during its fight scenes. When comparing third-act showdowns between the two films, the first one had a great deal of fun when it used a train set as a location for battle, but Ant-Man and the Wasp makes things even bigger and better when it takes its visual comedy to hilly San Francisco streets. For movies that gain a kinetic energy from the super-suit power of being able to change size in an instant, this scene is bolstered by its focus on visual comedy, like when a mega-sized Pez dispenser becomes a jumbo road obstacle, or a toy van is shown racing underneath that of the villains in pursuit. This playful sense allows for a fresh type of action, like when their van goes to regular size and launches the villains’ car into the air. Or when Ant-Man is in Giant-Man form and uses a truck bed as a type of scooter.

Ant-Man and the Wasp is basically a sweet spot when it comes to Marvel’s burgeoning interest in all-out comedy. At first, comedy was used to make characters in the MCU accessible, whether it was mining for quick-witted charm in Tony Stark’s smugness, or making Thor more down to earth by showing he’s no match for a tranquilizer shot to the butt. It’s also in that show-stopping moment when Hulk smashes Loki like a rag doll in The Avengers. The appeal of mocking Thor and Loki was that it made jokes out of heroes and villains otherwise meant to be taken seriously. 

But then James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy broke new ground, focusing on characters who are already goofballs in their own right, like the massive Drax’s way of taking things so literally, or how Gunn stages a final showdown that ends with a dance-off. It’s an approach that leads with oddball characters and gonzo comedy that informed the delightfully more dorky approach to Spider-Man: Homecoming. When a random person asks him to do a flip to prove he’s Spider-Man, Peter Parker does it. And when he thinks he’s stopping someone from stealing a car, he’s actually just attacked the owner, in a moment that awkwardly escalates while showing that he’s still got a lot of learning to do.

The Ant-Man franchise has the benefit that it’s always been this way. As acclaimed as Thor: Ragnarok was, tonally it feels like a complete rebranding for the character. While it does make for some excellent Jeff Goldblum riffing and a welcome amount of director Taika Waititi’s Kiwi-flavored deadpan humor, it seems like an adopted sibling to the previous Thor installments.

The Ant-Man movies succeed with script ideas big and small because they never take themselves too seriously; they only aim to be sincerely funny. Along with their focus on characters’ small-scale objectives, the Ant-Man pics are uniquely enabled by their comedy. So much becomes possible in these movies: Even a household pest can be seen as more adorable, or more heroic, than we might initially think.

Ant-Man and the Wasp

Source: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/heat-vision/is-ant-man-wasp-marvels-funniest-movie-1125815