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spidercakes · 4 years

Text

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Tag List: @prettieststarker @readysetstarker @lover-starker@starkerprince @starker-flame @i-am-irondaddy @blush-reincarnated@c6h12o6-work @von–gelmini @caseysroses@darkobsidianquill @starkerhowlter

Warnings: bondage, light (but explicit) BDSM, smut.

Also, this chapter is hella long lmao its like 6K.

He’s looking in the mirror, admiring the shoes. He’d already sent a few pictures to Tony since he’d responded well to it the last time and they look cute with the black skinny jeans he happens to be wearing too. He hadn’t anticipated that, which is dumb because he knows black goes with everything and he’s seen Liz wear skinny jeans and heels but still. He turns a little, shifting the angle of the shoes in the mirror and smiling when someone walks into his room and he lets out a surprised squeak, turning too fast considering he’s not used to the shoes and he slips, falling on his ass.

Liz frowns at him for a moment, noticing the shoes right away. “If you want to wear those you need to learn how to walk in them and as much as I love MJ and Ned they are not qualified to teach you. I don’t think Ned is aware that things that aren’t fandom shirts even exist and MJ dresses like a homeless hobgoblin so I’m all you’ve got,” she says, arms crossed over her chest.

Peter picks himself up, which takes work in heels but he manages mostly. “I think I can manage on my own,” he says.

“Uh huh. Do you know how to walk down stairs in those?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

He frowns, “just like… go down the stairs?”

“Mmhm, see how well that works for you,” she tells him, gesturing out the door to his room. He sighs because now he has to prove her wrong so he walks with pretty good success to the stairs and goes down a few, clinging to the railing as he goes. Liz watches him judgmentally and he gives her a look.

“What? Am I doing it wrong?” he asks. How does someone even go down stairs wrong, heels or no?

“Yeah, you are. Give me a second,” she tells him, disappearing into her room for a moment before she reappears with a pair of heels on and walks down a couple stairs. “Go down them at a forty five degree angle, makes your life a whole lot easier,” she says.

He gives it a try and he frowns when it helps. “That’s so dumb why are they like that?” he asks, giving the shoes an annoyed look.

“No clue, some shoe expert probably figured it out but that’s how to do it the easiest. And you need to learn how to walk in those things, watching you makes me sad. Come here,” she says, walking back up the stairs easy. It takes Peter longer, unused to balancing the way he has to in these shoes. “What’s with the sudden interest anyway?” she asks and Peter shrugs.

“They’re cute.”

“And you decided this… yesterday?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

No, he decided that a long time ago. “Okay, this is going to sound really stupid but like… it didn’t occur to me that I could like… wear heels.”

Liz squints, “yeah, that is really stupid. You don’t even have the big man feet problem, you have baby feet,” she tells him and he wrinkles his nose at her.

“I don’t have baby feet, me feet are normal!”

“You have baby feet, Peter, accept it. So you decided out of nowhere you can wear heels, any other new discoveries? Because if you’ve suddenly decided you like women’s clothing in general I’m banning you from my closet,” she tells him.

He figures he’ll keep the skirt thing to himself, its not like she’d notice anyway. “Why not like… double your wardrobe?” he says. “We’re the same size.”

For a moment Liz frowns, “I didn’t consider that, and since MJ dresses you know… like that I’ve been stuck with one wardrobe this whole time. You have any other galaxy brain takes in there?” she asks. “And I’m borrowing those skinny jeans you’re wearing later.”

He looks down at them, eyebrows drawing together. “Liz, you have like twelve pairs of black skinny jeans why would you need mine?”

“Yours have pockets, strip them off Parker,” Liz tells him.

“Teach me how to walk in these things first and then I’ll consider it,” he tells her. Liz throws a pillow at him and he squeaks, smacking at it to deflect it, sending it flying into a wall while he loses his balance and falls on his ass. Liz walks over, looking down at him from her vantage point, “you’re at my mercy now, Peter,” she tells him.

He sighs, “fine, you can have my pants when we’re done with the heels lesson, I don’t feel like taking them off right now,” he mumbles.

Peter is trying and failing to not want to die in Beck’s class when finally, mercifully, his phone goes off. Its a text and he kind of feels bad for answering it but also if he has to concentrate on Beck for one more minute he might die. MJ gives him a look and she can stop that, she doesn’t even need this class. He does, which is probably why she’s looking at him like that, but still. He’ll pass, if only barely and that’s total crap because Beck only marks him down because of a personal vendetta against Peter over something he doesn’t know he did but still. A pass is a pass.

The text is from Tony, which is probably better than the alternatives. If it was Ned he’d definitely have to look at some horrible meme that he never wanted to see, same if it was MJ especially because she’s sitting right beside him, and if it was Liz there’d probably be a house emergency. She’s weird and prefers phone calls because apparently she grew up in the wrong generation.

Get something pretty and red.

He shakes his head, Tony and his damn obsession with red.

Any specific requests?

Might as well gather what it is Tony is looking for before he gets stuck shopping. Tony gives him a mostly non committal response so he huffs out a sigh, figuring he’ll get something similar to Liz’s skirt seems how he knows Tony liked that. And he liked the skirt too, might as well build something of a work wardrobe. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but he shrugs a little, unsure how he’s supposed to like… explain any of this.

He’s perched on Tony’s couch trying to figure out what the fuck was up with Ned’s computer when he typed all this stuff when Tony walks in. Peter looks over his shoulder and he can tell right away that Tony isn’t in a good mood. He looks more disheveled than normal and he’s frowning like its his job so Peter reaches out to him. “Come here,” he says, smiling when Tony walks over. “You look like you had a rough day,” he says, shifting in his spot so he can set his computer aside and pull Tony in for a kiss. Its a risk, he has no idea if he’ll react well but he figures Tony can pull away if he’s not interested. He doesn’t though, he leans into it and kisses Peter softly back.

“I’ve had a fucking terrible day,” he murmurs. “That’s a pretty skirt,” he adds, looking down at Peter.

“You said red. The boots don’t quite match but I still think they look okay,” he says. He doesn’t mention the little surprise under the skirt, figures if they get to that they’ll get to it. Its a surprise for a reason.

Tony leans in and kisses him again, fingers curling around his jaw, “those boots are pretty attractive too. You’re good at this.”

“I have friends that have an interest in fashion,” he says like he’s never paid attention to fashion in his life. Which, to be fair, he has but not in a meaningful way. Nice men’s stuff is either ridiculously expensive or too nice to wear out to like… normal places so he tends to wear a lot of jeans and graphic T’s. It works for him, even if he thinks women have prettier fashion. But it does come with the downside of being a lot flimsier and no pockets, he’s heard Liz and MJ complain enough to know not to take advantage of his pocket space.

Tony grins, “and you’ve never considered women’s fashion yourself? Because your ability to pick things out suggests you’ve done more than pay attention.”

“I pay attention to things sometimes,” Peter says, pouting a little.

It earns a small laugh out of Tony anyway. “Okay then, keep your secrets. And follow me, I have real plans for tonight,” he says and Peter all but jumps up.

“Really?” he asks, not meaning to sound as excited as he is.

Tony nods and holds out his hand, “really.” Peter takes it and lets Tony lead him to the bedroom he’d gone to the first time he came here. “Remember what I taught you about the stop light system?” Tony asks and Peter nods.

“Green is go, yellow is slow down, red is stop,” he says, knowing from their small training session that Tony will have him repeat it to be sure.

He nods, “good. Now this wasn’t planned in advance, so don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to. Sure, you’re getting paid for this but everyone has the right to refuse work if you’re going from that angle, and from a basic not being a piece of shit angle I don’t want to do anything to you that you’re uncomfortable with. Okay?” he asks.

Peter sits on the edge of the bed and leans back on his palms. “Is it sad that I feel like I have more right to refuse work here than I did when I worked at McDonalds? Because that job sucked and people threw things at me.”

Tony frowns, maybe thrown off by the subject change or the fact that he used to work at McDonalds. “People… actually thought that their McDonalds order was so high stakes they threw shit at you?”

“Yup. I’ve had muffins, cookies, nuggets, coffee, and on one memorable occasion a bird thrown at me. That job taught me that any asshole who thinks McDonalds workers shouldn’t get fifteen dollars an hour for ‘burger flipping’ or whatever has a- never dealt with the general public and b- is probably the type of person to flip shit over a muffin and have a twenty minute long full blown meltdown. Seriously, three year olds have nothing on middle aged white women looking for a coffee. They’re the worst.” Which makes him sad because he knows middle aged white women who don’t suck, his aunt is the best, but after McDonalds he now secretly wonders which ones are the type to scream at teenagers over things that don’t, in the grand scheme of it, matter.

For his part Tony looks completely baffled. “A bird?” he asks and Peter sighs.

“Okay, Bird Man gets a pass because he was homeless, and he definitely had some mental health problems so when he grabbed that pigeon and just like… yote it at me I figured he was already having a worse day than me. But the next hour trying to catch the bird and get it out of the store wasn’t fun.” It ended up being him that finally caught the scared pigeon and he had to go throw it back outside. His boss at least wasn’t a total dildo that day and let him go home early on account of he was distraught but still. The job was the worst.

Tony shakes his head, “should have got a job at SI. You’d get benefits and an actual wage,” he says and Peter frowns.

“Like actually or do you not know the cost of stuff because rich people don’t know the cost of anything,” he says.

“We don’t,” Tony agrees, “which makes taking financial advice from us absolutely stupid but yes, SI employees get that fifteen an hour you mentioned earlier.”

Peter is sure he’s making some kind of face because Tony laughs, “what the hell? I worked at McDonalds for two years when I could have like… sold computers? Ugh.”

“You probably don’t get birds thrown at you often, at least. There was that one time the poop man attacked Toronto though and an SI store got hit. Shockingly all of the employees didn’t quit immediately because I would have.”

Now he knows how Tony felt when he mentioned the bird. “The… the what attacked Toronto?”

Tony shakes his head, “its normal for them and we live in New York, we don’t get to judge. You had a bird thrown at you, like an entire pigeon. Cities are weird- too many people in one spot and you get a bunch of squirrely ones i the mix.”

“Well, I’d rather a whole pigeon than a piece of one, in Bird Man’s defense,” he says and Tony wrinkles his nose.

“That’s a point.”

Peter lets out a soft huff, “so now that we’ve established that Toronto has poop men running around apparently and pigeons get thrown at underpaid minimum wage employees are you going to tell me what you’ve got planned?” he asks, grinning.

Tony smiles down at him, “you ever been tied up before?” he asks.

He shakes his head, “tried handcuffs once and they kind of sucked.” They look deceptively tame but they kind of hurt if they’re too tight or if you move around too much.

“Yeah, its weird that they’re considered next to vanilla considering restraint cuffs might look more intense but they’re a hell of a lot more comfortable. I don’t like cuffs though, never got the aesthetic of them and I’ve been arrested too many times to think they’re any fun. I was going to use rope- red to match your outfit,” he says.

Peter raises an eyebrow, “they make red rope? What hardware store are you going to?” Do rich people have special hardware stores where they can get rope in cool colors? Is there like… a Whole Foods equivalent to Home Depot?

“I didn’t go to a hardware store, baby. Is that where you think people get this stuff? No, I go to a specialty store that makes kink gear. The rope is silk.”

“Oh. I guess that makes a lot more sense than what I was thinking,” he says. “Silk is probably more comfortable than the scratchy stuff you’d get at a hardware store anyway.”

“It is. Here,” Tony says, turning and leaving the room for a few moments before he comes back with a bundle of dark red rope that he throws to Peter.

Well, yeah, its immediately way more soft than what he’d imagined. “Well now I feel dumb,” he says because this should have been like… common sense.

Tony shakes his head, “its fine, I made the same mistake when I was younger too and I’ve been reliably informed that I’m pretty smart,” he says like that’s not the understatement of the year. It does make him feel better though.

“Okay. So what are we doing with this? Aside from like, the obvious,” he says, wrinkling his nose at how dumb his question sounded.

“Restraining your arms- most of it is complicated knot work. It… eases my mind, I guess, is a good way to put it.”

Peter considers it for a moment and shrugs, “okay. Do you want me to take anything off?” he asks. He’s wearing a long sleeved black sweater that might be designed to look nice rather than keep him warm but its really cute with the skirt. And just a little baggy to make up for the fact that he’s got nothing going on up top.

Tony shakes his head, “no, the rope will look nice over the- did you get your nails done?” he asks, spotting them a little late.

“Um. No. Well, kind of. My roommate decided since I liked heels she now has free reign to do my nails because she likes doing it and our other roommates won’t let her practice on them. The red is kind of a coincidence, she likes red too.” The gold was her experimenting and Peter has to admit they came out really nice. Liz said its easier to do his nails than hers and he figures that makes sense.

He doesn’t really anticipate Tony walking over and picking up one of his hands, thumb moving over his nails but its kind of sweet, the way he does it. “They look nice,” Tony murmurs. “So, you ready?” he asks.

Peter perks up a little, unsure where his excitement is even coming from not, he supposes, that he’s about to question it. With a job that pays this well its best if he enjoys it. “Yeah, where do you want me?” he asks.

Tony smiles down at him, eyes crinkled a little at the corners and its a good look on him. “Middle of the bed, make yourself comfortable.”

This isn’t exactly Tony’s first time doing something like this but it is the first time he’s dealt with someone with such… natural submissive leanings. He’s heard plenty of stories but most of them seem either too good to be true, definitively made up, or weirdly misogynistic given that its never men who have a natural gift of submission. He suspects there’s still an element of truth to that but he’ll admit he might have been too quick to judge the stories as blatantly untrue all things considered.

Peter is spread out under him on his stomach, Tony perched on his thighs and Peter has already put his arms behind him, wrists crossed at his butt. He hadn’t needed the instruction at all, just went ahead and positioned himself exactly the way Tony was going to. It would be easy to write it off as a logical position to take but in Tony’s experience even subs who do this often need a little guidance. No one is a mind reader and sometimes they’ll wait for instructions on what to do. Peter, apparently, just happens to be good at doing everything he wants right away.

He places his hand in the middle of Peter’s back, just above where his skirt is sitting and he looks good like this, spread out underneath Tony with his hand on his back. His soft brown curls are brushes away from his face and his eyes are a little hooded, like he’s lost on the idea of being tied up alone. Tony does his best to keep his mouth from watering over the thought of it. He goes to sit back, grab the rope when Peter wiggles a little and Tony raises an eyebrow. “You okay down there?” he asks. Peter’s cheeks turn a little red and Tony sighs, “use your words, baby,” he tells Peter.

It results in another slightly uncomfortable wiggle but Peter speaks before Tony can react. “You can like… use your tie as a gag, right?” he asks, voice low like he’s having a hard time voicing his thoughts. Maybe he is, its not like he’s well versed in this and maybe to him there’s a level of embarrassment. Tony finds it common not that he ever dealt with it. Confusion better fit where he sat when he first got into this stuff. He likes the control, but he has no desire to control anyone in the way he’s experienced it. Made him wonder if his desire for control in this kind of situation was some sort of slippery slope that would lead to him being like Howard. So far it hasn’t happened yet so he figures he’s safe.

“I could, yeah. Is that something you want?” he asks, trying to suss out Peter’s feelings.

His cheeks turn more red, “obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked,” he says, nose wrinkling just a little.

He could have assumed that’s what he wants, but Tony doesn’t tell him that. “Relax baby, of all the things I’ve had people ask of me in situations like this that’s probably one of the tamest options. Give me a minute.” He drags himself off of Peter and then off the bed, feeling the weight of Peter’s eyes on him as he goes.

“What’s the weirdest, then?” he asks.

Never fails to be the next question out of every subs mouth if he says something like that. “You know what sounding is?” he asks, turning to catch a glimpse of Peter shaking his head. “A rod down your pee hole,” he says, laughing as Peter breaks position just to sit up and give him a what the fuck look.

“Why?” he asks, looking horrified.

“Lay back down,” Tony tells him and Peter huffs, returning to his previous position while Tony snatches his tie off the ground. “And I’ve been reliably informed that it feels like a blowjob on the inside, but not my thing.”

Peter doesn’t look like he believes him whatsoever and Tony can’t say he blames him for that. “That’s like… not cool at all,” Peter mumbles while Tony climbs back onto the bed.

“Different strokes for different folks and apparently its painless, not that I’ve ever tried it on account of no thanks.” Not that he should judge, he’s tried some weird things that he’s also discovered are not his thing but still. There’s always a thing or two that will freak a person out and that happens to be one of his, that and any kind of bathroom stuff he does not get the appeal but hey, he’s sure plenty of people don’t get shibari either. Its not like there’s a sexual element for it in the bondage itself either, even if he likes the look of it when its finished. But the act itself has more to do with aesthetics and concentration than sex.

Gags though, that’s more of a sexual thing for him and he’s looking forward to seeing Peter wear one. Especially since he chose to go with his tie. Its an intimate choice, one of Tony’s preferred though it has the downside of leaving the dry cleaning people to clean slobbery ties. He makes a knot in the middle though, turning it into a makeshift cleave gag before setting it aside. Peter gives him a quizzical look and Tony settles a hand in the middle of his back again. “I’m going to tie your hands and see if you can still snap so you can give me some indication that you want out of the ropes,” he says.

A small frown appears on Peter’s features as he considers that. “Huh. I didn’t even think of that,” he says.

“I know baby, but I’ve been doing this long enough to not over look basic stuff like that. Not that I would have expected you to come up with something anyway, that’s more my job.” He’s the one who has to pay attention to Peter’s safety and he’s the one with more experience- its Peter’s job to let him know he’s uncomfortable and that’s mostly it aside from not being outright stupid but Tony told him ahead of time not to be stupid enough to tie himself to a bed with knots that get tighter every time you struggle. Peter had immediately wrote the idea off but Tony has heard of people doing that so its not like it hasn’t been done.

He grabs the rope and eyeballs the length he’ll need to restrain Peter’s wrists the way he wants to before setting to work. Its not difficult, at least not now, to get the knot right and pull it as tight as he wants it. “Snap your fingers,” Tony tells him. Peter does so without difficulty and he nods. “Good. If you’re in any kind of trouble, snap your fingers,” he tells him.

“What if I like… have to pee,” Peter says.

Tony snorts at the practicality of the question. “Then snap your fingers, I’ll take the gag off, and then you can pee. This is not complicated,” he says, grinning down at him.

“I’m just saying, that’s hardly trouble,” Peter tells him, nose wrinkled.

“Don’t be a brat,” Tony says, “and open your mouth.” He does, without complaint and isn’t that just fucking precious. He misses this, someone who’s so pliant and willing to do what he wants when he wants. Within reason, obviously. He sticks the knot in Peter’s mouth and ties it behind his head. “You good?” he asks. He already knows the answer from the look on Peter’s face but the nod is good confirmation. “Good,” he murmurs, settling a hand on Peter’s back again. “I’m going to tie your arms up to about here, okay?” he asks, touching the spot just above Peter’s elbow. Peter gives him a soft mood of affirmation and Tony nods before he starts to work.

Its quick work, but its methodical- requires a level of talent with the rope to make it do what he wants. He can do fancier work than what he’s doing now but his goal is only partly aesthetically driven. He wants to see Peter look nice, but he also likes the busywork of it, the way it can distract his brain a little as he winds down for the day. His job is stressful, mostly because he makes a point to be more involved with his company than a lot of other CEO’s he knows probably because he’s a bit of a control freak. He hasn’t taken a vacation in over two years and he probably needs one all things considered but he has this and this helps. Especially when Peter looks like that, yes half lidded as he makes small noises of contentment while Tony ties the knots.

The red rope stands out against the black of Peter’s sweater, bright against it and conveniently a perfect match to his skirt. He’d wonder, if not for the obvious honesty, if Peter had dabbled in women’s clothing before given his ability to match things and gauge his size right. Its been a long time since someone so immediately good at this, someone so obviously compatible with his wants, has come into his life and he’s fully prepared to milk it for all its worth. He likes the time he gets with his subs, the way the dynamic works between them as they give and take what they need for each other. He likes Peter specifically.

“You look so pretty for me like this,” he murmurs to Peter as he loops the last bit of rope around his upper arms. Peter makes a small hum of affirmation and Tony smiles down at him, “you handled this better than I thought you would,” he murmurs. Peter raises an eyebrow at him looking almost offended. “Relax, I thought you’d do fine. Didn’t anticipate you liking it as much as you did. Maybe next time I’ll tie up your legs too, have you sit pretty for me for awhile,” he murmurs. Peter lets out a soft whine, hips tilting into the bed and Tony raises an eyebrow. “Are you getting off on this?” he asks. He gets an irritated huff out of Peter, like he’s annoyed to have been found out but its useful information actually. “Don’t be shy now, baby, its not like I mind. Makes taking care of you easier if I know what you like,” he points out.

After a quiet, tense moment Peter finally nods and hmm. “I’m going to sit you up on your knees, okay?” Peter nods and Tony moves off the back of his legs so Peter can shift, tucking his legs underneath himself with some minor difficulty. Tony places a hand on his shoulder and grips the knots tying Peter’s arms together and pulls him up, earning a soft gasp out of Peter when he pulls on the rope. His hands clench a little and so does his jaw as Tony shifts him into a more comfortable position. He reaches up and unties his tie, pulling it from Peter’s mouth and earning a dirty look for it.

“Put that back!” he says, almost offended about it.

Tony grins as he sets it aside, “I will in a minute, gorgeous, but I’d like to explore this apparently newfound love of bondage first,” he murmurs as he settles a hand on Peter’s thigh. Peter leans back into him, fully relaxed and that’s curious but not in a bad way. “You sure this is the first time you’ve done this?” he asks.

“Pretty sure I’d have known if I got into this before. Probably would have, if I knew how much I liked it,” he murmurs.

He nods, “and there’s another thing. What do you like about this, hmm?”

Peter gives him another dirty look but its a fair question. When he raises an eyebrow Peter gets the point that he’s supposed to respond. He gives Peter a moment while he shifts a little uncomfortably, perhaps uncomfortable with someone telling him to verbalize his desire. He’s been there, he gets it, but he needs to know what Peter likes so he can better tailor their scenes to both of their tastes. “I like the restriction,” he says eventually. “And I like the lack of control.”

That’s interesting, liking the lack of control given that Peter seemed to have been a little put off by that when they went over the stuff Tony liked. But sometimes people feel differently when they try something than when they read about it. “Flesh that out for me, the lack of control you like. What is it exactly that you like about it?”

“Kind of what’s on the tin,” Peter tells him and Tony pulls the ropes attached to his arms back a little, jostling him. Peter lets out a sharp gasp, biting his lip as his breathing picks up. Well, there’s a reaction.

“Don’t give me attitude, Peter,” he murmurs.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles back and Tony raises an eyebrow. It takes a second for Peter to pick up what he’s trying to convey but he gets it after a moment and lets out a huff, “sorry, Mr. Stark.”

He decides to let the bit of attitude in that go because he’s always loved that, being called Mr. Stark in bed. No idea why, it should probably remind him of work the way ‘sir’ does, which is why he doesn’t use the popular honorific in scenes, but for whatever reason he can make the separation between work and something else with that particular title. “Good,” Tony murmurs, giving the underside of Peter’s jaw a kiss. “Now lets try that again. What is it about the lack of control that you like?”

Peter sits there for a moment, frowning. “I… don’t get what you’re asking, where’s the nuance in that that you see?” he’s asks.

Tony gives him another soft kiss, “thank you for asking. The headphones you wore when we first met, they’re a loss of control too but you didn’t like not being able to hear. What about this is different to you?”

That at least seems to help Peter out in regards to what he’s looking for. “I didn’t mind not being able to hear, it was just that I was stuck in total silence. It felt cold, isolated. This is like… the opposite of that. I like feeling restricted, like feeling the way you tie the knots. I like…” Peter trails off for a moment and Tony gives him time. “I like that I have no control, that you could do whatever you want to me.”

“Do you want that? Me to do whatever I want to you?” he asks. That had been something he seemed disinterested in too when they’d talked things over but Peter nods.

“Yes,” he breathes out softly, head tipped back a little as his eyes shut like imagining it is enough to get him going.

He presses a soft kiss to Peter’s jaw, “something to keep in mind for next time,” he murmurs.

“You can do it now, if you want,” Peter says, looking over his shoulder and fuck he looks gorgeous like that, half wrecked and Tony hasn’t even done much yet.

“Not right now baby, I want to ease you into this.” Peter pouts at him about it and Tony is sure he has no fucking clue what sub frenzy is so he’ll send him information on it later. For the moment he thinks he can swing Peter’s desire in his favor anyway. “You want me to put that gag back on?” he asks and Peter nods almost frantically.

“Yes,” he breathes out, squirming a little with desire and Tony smiles as he grabs the tie. He slips the knot back into Peter’s mouth and reties it behind his head before settling his hands on Peter’s thighs. He presses back into Tony, trying his best to look at him over his shoulder and only partially succeeding given that Tony is almost right behind him.

“So you like being tied up, hmm?” he murmurs as he moves his hands slowly up Peter’s thighs. Peter lets out a small whine and nods. “How about next time I tie your hands to your ankles wearing those pretty little boots of yours?” Peter’s head tips back and moans and Tony has to admit his reaction is probably almost as attractive as the real thing even if he won’t be sure of that until he sees it. “I’ll tie your legs too, just like this,” he says, fingers trailing softly up his folded legs, “make you sit there and beg for it until I think you’ve earned it.”

He doesn’t totally expect Peter to react but he’s more than happy when Peter’s eyes roll back and he lets out another moan though the tie. Begging seemed to be more his thing than Peter’s but he’s happy to trade off tying him up if it’ll get him what he wants. Shit, there’s a lot of things he’d trade off to see Peter like this. “Then,” he murmurs in Peter’s ear, “I’ll bend you over.” He tips Peter forward, hand on his neck as he presses him into the mattress and fuck the loud, extended moan Peter lets out is hot. “And touch you,” he says as he trails his fingers up the back of Peter’s thighs, toying with the edge of his skirt. Peter’s breathing has picked up and he shifts a little under Tony’s hand, making small noises of pleasure as his hand slips under his skirt.

He doesn’t anticipate the panties Peter is wearing under it and he moans, pressing his forehead to Peter’s back as he leans into his further. “God, you are so fucking perfect,” he tells Peter, “always managing to do some other little thing for me, hmm?” Peter lets out a small laugh, trying his best to wiggle his ass a little. “How do you feel about me teasing you like this, hmm? Seeing how far I can take you,” he murmurs as he cups Peter through the satin. He makes a high keening noise as he shifts his hips into Tony’s hand. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Could probably tease you for hours, bring you to the edge and back again until you’re so damn hungry for it you can’t even beg anymore.” Peter takes in a sharp inhale of breath and shifts his hips into Tony’s hand again. He massages Peter gently, feeling him through the soft material and smiling when Peter’s eyes flutter shut again.

“Next time I’ll use a proper gag, see what your pretty lips look like stretched over a ball gag for me. Wanna hear the way you sound when I fuck into you soft and slow, forced to move at my pace,” he murmurs. Peter whines, hips tilting into his hand as he tries desperately to draw in enough breath through his nose. “Bet you I could get you to cum like this, barely even touching you.” Peter nods frantically, whining again as he shivers. Tony smiles, “I’ll let you this one time, but after this you cum whenever the hell I tell you to, got that?” he asks and Peter lets out a loud moan, face curling into the mattress as he spills over those pretty panties of his, eyes rolling back in his head. “Good,” Tony murmurs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Glad to see we understand each other.”

Peter is on cloud fucking nine and he didn’t even expect to like any of that except now he wants to do like all of it yesterday. Tony sent him more reading material but he’s neglected it in favor os savoring the feeling of Tony’s hand on the back of his neck pressing him into the mattress and fuck it’s going to be a long time before he can think of anything else jerking off. He’s excited for the next time Tony calls him over and he’s going to complain if Tony doesn’t do what he promised because he has needs, okay, and its cruel to neglect them. That’s like… workplace negligence or some shit, he’ll look it up later.

He’s so absorbed in his thoughts that the poke to his side results in him letting out a sharp yelp and tossing the plate he forgot was in his hand across the room. Liz, MJ, and Ned snort and start laughing. “Oh my god, its like those cat versus cucumber videos and Peter’s the cat!” Ned says, clutching his stomach as he laughs. He looks down and sure shit Liz is holding a fucking cucumber.

“Can you guys like… not?” he asks, hand on his hip.

“You’re cleaning that up,” MJ tells him, gesturing to his dinner, which is now on the floor. He sighs because that’s only fair but still, its rude to scare a guy when he’s daydreaming about hot men holding him down and fucking him silly. He feels he should be left in peace with his thoughts.

“This is like… treason and I’m calling the president,” Peter tells them.

Liz rolls her eyes, “jokes on you, the president hates gays so we’re all going to jail.”

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction

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bijackkellys · 4 years

Text

thunderstruck ; part one

lazarus, or the return of jack kelly

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Word Count: 1,651 Dedications: a huge shoutout to my gf, beta reader, and number one fan @mistyw273, and to @dimenovelcowboy for supporting me endlessly. tag list (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @santa-fe-maniac @pulitzers-world @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway @verified-dumbass @jewishdavidjacobs @agentsnickers @thetruthabouttheboy Author’s Note: hey readers! i want to start by saying thank you so much for all the support and interest so far—i was honestly not expecting to get so much feedback with just the introduction but i'm really thrilled so many people are here for the ride! i figured i would go ahead and put part one up; this is the only back-to-back update i'll be doing, but i wanted to have more than the prologue out there. from this point forward i'm going to try bi-weekly updates on tuesdays and fridays (that's tentative and subject to change depending on how things carry on, though!). again, thank you for your interest and i really really appreciate the feedback, it honestly means the world to me. with that, let's get on with part one!

read it on ao3

five months later.

JACK DOESN’T KNOW WHEN he started running, and doesn’t know where to stop.

Right now the world is this hazy, deafening thing. The streets loop endlessly around him, too bright and too loud, a mix of over-saturated colors and sounds he can’t pull apart. In the middle of it all he feels as if he’s drowning. He’s drugged up to his eyes, this much he can tell—there’s little else that he’s aware of, though, except for his feet pounding against the pavement and this base, animalistic instinct in the back of his brain telling him to go. To run and run and keep running.

So he does. Buildings and road signs and people dissolve into background noise as he tears through the streets. Someone is after him; as disoriented as he is, he’s sure of it, and it’s that hot rush of fear that keeps him going more than anything else. A spike of adrenaline pushing him forward.

Maybe he’s lost them miles ago, but it’s not until the moment he thinks his legs will give out underneath him that he collapses against the back wall of an alleyway, sputtering for a breath. His lungs burn and he feels dizzy, but Jack pushes past the blurred images in his head and the low ringing in his ears to catalog what he knows. His name is Francis—no. He swallows dryly and starts again. His name is Jack Kelly. He’s eighteen, maybe nineteen, now, depending on how much time has passed. He’s an art student, and a superhero, and there was a fire, and then—

And then everything fills up with static and the feeling of hands on his skin and this harsh, chemical smell. His stomach turns.

Jack hates feeling like this, like he’s been separated from his own thoughts. The lack of control that comes with the clouded figures where his memories should be is enough to make him vulnerable in a way he hasn’t felt in years, exposed like a copper wire that’s been stripped of its casing.

And the current—that’s gone altogether. There are silver cuffs biting into the skin of his wrists; the seam that held them together is broken along a jagged edge, but the slim band of green light lining them means they’re still suppressing his powers. Jack aches for the buzz of electricity to come back, needs them off. He twists his hands desperately and in doing so, makes his drug-addled brain suddenly aware of a cold piece of metal clenched in his fist.

He opens his palm. It’s a flash drive. His mind dredges up a fuzzy memory of ripping it from a computer port in what he thinks might have been a control room. He doesn’t know what it contains, but if he’d held onto it so desperately that it became second nature, then it must be important. He needs to find a computer, he thinks abruptly, and then stands up and immediately sways on his feet.

Okay—okay. Not yet, maybe. Before that, he needs food and water and rest. He needs the lodging house, except he has no idea where he is, and in the state he’s in, he barely knows which way is up. He needs—he needs to call Crutchie.

Jack is struck suddenly by the overwhelming desire to hear his pseudo-brother’s voice, strong enough that his chest physically hurts from it. It’s been—weeks, maybe? months?—the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other since they were kids. If he can get his hands on a phone and get Crutchie on the line, he thinks, then powerless and drugged or not, he’ll be okay.

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s a start. All he has to do is find a phone. This is easier said than done, though; there’s still a payphone booth left next to a nearby subway station, rusted from lack of use, but he doesn’t have any money. He’s aware of how he must look, a boy in tattered clothes with cloudy eyes and words slurred together, begging for change. More than one person threatens to call the police. Most of them just push him away. Jack feels his desperation pitching upward quickly, tightening in his throat.

When a stranger finally hands him a few quarters with a wary look, he’s not sure if it’s fear or pity or some combination of the two that makes her do it. He’s grateful all the same. He rushes over to the booth, blood roaring in his ears from the anticipation. His hands are shaking so hard that his fingers stumble over the keypad, but he knows Crutchie’s number by heart, is sure he could dial it in his sleep. It goes to voicemail and Jack shoves the receiver against his ear.

“Crutchie, it’s me—it’s Jack. Please pick up.”

When he slides the second quarter into the slot and calls again, it barely has a chance to ring.

“Jack is dead.” Crutchie’s voice comes through, wavering. Jack almost chokes on his relief.

“I’m not,” he says, and there’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and then a noise that sounds like a broken sob.

“No—”

“Crutchie, I’m here. It’s me. I’m not dead.”

“How…”

“I don’t know,” Jack says, truthfully.

“You—you can’t—fuck, Jack.” And in the middle of everything, Jack is caught off guard because Crutchie almost never swears. There’s a long quiet, broken by just the static-filled sound of Crutchie crying. Jack’s own cheeks are wet. “It’s been five months,” he gasps finally. “I thought—we all thought you died in that fire. Holy shit. Where have you been?”

Jack’s head spins. He hadn’t even realized how much time has passed. Five months...it’s June now, then, and the spring semester of classes is already over, and he’s nineteen, and there’s this gaping chasm of lost time in his head—

“—ck? Jack.”

He realizes that Crutchie is calling his name abruptly, and Jack blinks, trying to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, I-I’m here. I don’t—everything’s fuzzy, Crutchie, I don’t know what happened, where I’ve been—” His words trip and stumble over each other. “I’m gonna try and find my way back to the lodging house, I’ve just gotta—”

“No, no, wait, you can’t,” Crutchie cuts him off, suddenly fierce. Jack pauses.

“What do you mean?”

His response is quieter this time, tentative. Slow, like he’s walking on his toes. “Jackie...how much do you know about what’s been going on?”

Dread pools in Jack’s chest, hot and fast. For as long as they’ve known each other, he’s only heard Crutchie sound like this, scared and small and hesitant, a few times before. Something has gone deeply wrong; he knows it in an instant, maybe should have realized it even before now. “What is it, Crutchie?” he demands.

Crutchie takes a shuddering breath. “They said you set the fire,” he says, and Jack’s stomach plummets. “It was all over the news—they said the hospital wasn’t an accident, that Strike—that you—had planned the whole thing, did it on purpose.”

“No...” Jack feels nauseous, dizzy, sure in that moment that he’s going to be sick all over the pavement. His memories of the hospital brim with fear and heat and voices that echo in his skull, and the idea that the public believes he’s the cause of that, of all that death and destruction, hurting innocent people—he can’t stomach it. Doesn’t know how to.

“Jack, people were angry. Really angry. Not just at Strike—there was a whole new anti-super wave, worse than it’s ever been before, and now everyone thinks supers are dangerous and they started... taking people.” Crutchie’s voice goes even lower as Jack feels his heart crawl up into his throat. “They—we call them Snatchers, we think they’re in league with the police—they’ve surrounded the lodging house and swarmed half the city, dragging kids with powers off to someplace called the Refuge.”

Everything goes hot and sharp for a moment, a quick snap of recognition that burns like fire. Jack tastes metal in his mouth, chokes on it. “That’s where I was,” he says hollowly. He knows it even through the fogginess in his head.

“Oh, Jackie,” Crutchie begins, but Jack doesn’t let him finish.

“Are the others—is everyone okay? Race, Specs, Elmer—did they get taken?” The lodging house is a frequent stop for super kids who need a place to spend the night, but the three of them and Jack are the only permanent residents that have powers. If the Snatchers found them, they’d have been dragged off to the same fate that Jack has only just escaped. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Crutchie says yes.

“They’re holed up with Spot in Brooklyn,” Crutchie replies, and Jack lets himself exhale. “I haven’t been talking to them a whole lot, because they’re trying to stay under the radar, but the last time I heard from them, they were okay.” He gives a rattled sort of laugh, devoid of humor and more exhausted than anything. “Shit, Jackie. Everything fell apart without you.”

Jack passes a hand over his face, wants to cry. Wants to scream and tell Crutchie that he’s lost and drowned and terrified, that he feels more helpless than he’s ever been, that for all the time he’s spent playing hero he doesn’t know how to save anyone from this. Instead, though, he sets his jaw. “I’m gonna fix this, Crutchie,” he says, half-promise and half-prayer. He’ll find a way.

“Jack—” Crutchie begins, but what he’s going to say next Jack doesn’t find out. The timer clicks, and there’s a robotic female voice in place of Crutchie’s that tells him the call has timed out.

The line goes dead and then Jack is alone all over again, the vow he made weighing as heavy as the shackles on his wrists.

#THUNDERSTRUCK #newsies #newsies fanfiction #jack kelly #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #jathvey #javid #jatherine #datherine #newsies the musical #livesies #fanfiction #writing #my writing #umanawrites

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ink-flavored · 5 years

Text

11/11/11 Game (Triple Threat)

Tagged by @multimousenette and @bogbodybitch and @nectareouswrites! Thanks!

I’ll put my questions at the top here so you don’t have to scroll through 33 questions lmao

Questions

Do you like to cook or do you prefer going out?

How meticulous do you like to get in your world building?

How do you relax when you’re stressed?

Do you have a creative hobby outside of writing? What is it?

Luck or chance?

Is there something that you’ve decided to keep in your WIP(s) even after someone told you to get rid of it?

What’s your battle music?

What are you most proud of yourself for?

What’s your favorite dinosaur?

What would you grow on a farm?

Blood family or found family?

Tagging: @royalbounties @rainy-rose @aesopsrachaels @purpleshadows1989 @frankensteinn @shadeshadow234 @startroubled @farrradays and anyone else who wants to!

Alright. Now comes the doozy.

1. What’s your preferred writing and reading genre?

Fantasy for both, though I like to read a lot of different genres

2. What’s your favorite thing about your least favorite character?

Least favorite is tough. The character I’ve been having the hardest time writing recently is General Zhai from The God-Dragon’s Wife, mainly because I haven’t solidified her motivations yet, but if there’s one thing I know about her, it’s that she takes no shit. Which is very difficult for me, because she isn’t taking my shit either.

3. What’s your least favorite thing about your favorite character?

Again with the favorites! Teconia is fun to write, but I feel bad about making bad things happen to her and making her sad. She gets sad a lot and then I feel guilty. Stop doing that.

4. Which of your characters do you feel most indifferent towards? Why?

Right now, it’s Park. I don’t think we’d be friends if he was a real person (robot?) because our values are so misaligned, but he’s not a bad guy.

5. Which of your projects means the most to you and why?

Firesoul, no doubt. It’s been an idea I’ve had since I first started writing, and the fact that I’ve been continuing to write it after all these years is a huge deal for me (i.e. a person who comes up with ideas and then abandons them forever)

6. Is there a theme that can be found in all of your projects? Was it intentional or dd you realize after the event?

Usually there’s a theme of overcoming – whether that’s overcoming self, overcoming oppression, or overcoming adversity. I don’t do it intentionally, but I think it’s definitely informed by experiences in my life, so it would feel odd to not have it.

7. What’s your favorite book to read? Does it have any similarities to your any of your writing projects?

The Inheritance Cycle is my favorite book series of all time and it absolutely informs my writing style. I’ve read the first book, Eragon, eight times, and seven of those times was before I turned 16. I’d be shocked if it didn’t.

8. What have you learnt while writing that you hope everyone knows?

That I can write whatever I want, and someone will like it, even if it’s not the someone I thought would like it.

9. What’s your biggest strength in writing?

Description, for sure.

10. What about your weakness?

Too much description.

Seriously, though, it’s plot structure. I suck at that, and I’m awful at outlines.

11. How many questions do you answer on character profile sheets when creating new characters?

I try to shoot for all of the ones that apply! But I don’t do a lot of character sheets so…

12. What do you love most about your writing?

I love my worlds and settings. I pour blood, sweat, and tears into them, and I think it really pays off.

13. What’s your favorite type of character to write?

Smart dumbasses, people who Can’t Handle Feelings, and people who Have Too Much Feelings. I have no middle ground.

14. What inspires you to write?

Life. That’s probably the most cliché answer on the planet, but I’m very informed by the things I believe and the experiences I have. Even my horror pieces (short as they are) come from places of feeling helpless in my own life, struggling with an undiagnosed anxiety and panic disorder for most of my life.

15. If you could talk to your protagonist, what advice would you give them?

I would gently hold Park’s metal robot face in my hands and tell him to Stop Taking All Responsibility For Everything. Good God. It’s not all about you, all the time.

I would tell Xinya that it’s okay to feel emotions sometimes. Yes, even that one.

I would tell Teconia that trusting people isn’t always a good thing.

I would tell Hayden that he is capable, no matter what he tells himself.

16. If you had to do an escape room with one of your characters, who would you choose and why?

Park is a robot and therefore would be very logical about all possible solutions. This could either be a great thing or a terrible thing, but I’ll take my chances with the guy with a computer for a brain.

17. How did you come up with the plot for your current wip(s)?

The God-Dragon’s Wife is inspired by a (perhaps not astoundingly written) fanfiction I read and said “Psh. I can do that.” That, and my deep held desire to marry a dragon.

Firesoul came to me at an audition for a role in my dance company’s annual Christmas show. I heard this epic, haunting music, and had a vision, essentially, of a scene from the book. Teconia herself is literally a D&D character that I liked so much I gave her a book.

Out of the Park is inspired from way back when I used to regularly play Overwatch, and my main, Zenyatta, had a skin release that was a baseball team. The rest is history/

Dragon Raising actually started as a novel that I never did anything with, because something always felt off about the delivery. When I took a comic writing class in college, everything clicked at once.

18. What’s one line/paragraph you’ve written recently that you’re proud of?

This is from a submission for a prompt month in a fandom I’m in:

Yugi didn’t believe in ghosts. It was fun to think about, sure, but he’d never seen any “real” evidence to support the idea. His friend Ryou claimed otherwise, but they’d long since learned to agree to disagree on the subject. Of course, they were both partial to a good scare – his second favorite genre for anything was horror – and they could talk about the coolest ghost stories they’d heard for hours. Still, he had never latched on to the idea of the “soul persisting after death.” It was ridiculous, for a lot of reasons. The idea of a ghost in his house – in anyone’s house – was almost laughable.

But he didn’t have a lot of other ideas to explain this.

19. Do you ever draw concept art for your writing?

I can’t draw, but if someone made me art of my WIPs, I would die LITERALLY for them.

20. What do you like most about one of your protagonists and what do you like least about them?

Xinya is a powerful woman. She’s capable and smart and will kick your ass in chess. But she’s so emotionally constipated it’s actually painful for me.

Teconia is kind, strong even if she doesn’t know it yet, and loyal to her friends and family. But she refuses to use her strength until it’s too late, which is frustrating for a lot of reasons.

Park is a dumbass. This is both the reason I love and hate him.

Hayden can do remarkable things, but he never gives himself credit for them.

21. What’s the setting of your current wip(s) and why did you choose it?

TGDW takes place in a fantasy Imperial China, which I chose because I am so sick of Fantasy Medieval Europe #4564

Firesoul takes place in Fantasy Medieval Europe #a billion, but I’m not romanticizing it. Teconia is the poorest of the poor, a racial minority, and has to keep her mage identity a secret to avoid persecution. You see exactly what that’s like in Ethallia for the average citizen, and it’s not pretty, unlike most fantasy settings where Everyone Is Good Except Our Evil King, Who Is Evil For Vague Magic Reasons.

OOTP is my personal idealized Future America, which means there is So Much Socialism. Everywhere.

Dragon Raising takes place in modern day Chicago, which I chose because wouldn’t it be hilarious if someone had to raise dragons in the middle of Chicago?

22. What are some of your strengths that make you a good writer?

I pride myself on my description and world building, as I’m sure people have picked up by now, but I’ve also been told I’m good at writing character interactions. I’ll take it!

23. Do you listen to music/have playlists to get you writing?

I’m one of those people who can’t write without music to block out the sounds of the real world. I don’t have any specific playlists for writing – I usually just shuffle my whole library.

24. Who is the character that is least like you and why?

Personality wise, it’s between Park and Yu-Qi who are the least like me.

Park thinks he has to be the one to change the world – him and him alone – which is just. Come on man. Dismount from your high horse.

Yu-Qi is closer to being the opposite of me because of our similarities, ironically enough. She’s obsessive, possessive, and in a true dragon fashion, she hoards and hoards and hoards. These are qualities I share, but desperately afraid of.

25. What is the maximum word count you are hoping for your project(s)?

Oh, this is a good question. I’ve never sat down and thought it out specifically, but I think a good novel length is 80k-200k words, so I’ll shoot for that!

26. Do you write better in the day time or at night?

Night owl. I blame it on being born at 1:30am

27. What are your OC(s) zodiac signs?

Well, considering only two of them exist in our star system, I’ll just guess!

Xinya: Virgo

Teconia: Pisces

Park: Scorpio

Hayden: Libra

28. Where do you fall on the beige to purple prose spectrum?

My prose is indigo, man. I am so close to purple it’s unreal.

29. Are you well read in the genre you hope to go into?

Absolutely! I’ve been reading fantasy since I was in first grade.

30. What are your goals for your writing career?

I want to open people’s minds and make them think about stuff that they might not have otherwise thought about. And entertain them, of course.

31. How comfortable are you with critical feedback?

PLEASE give me critical feedback, I’m begging you. My life has been plagued by minimal to no feedback on my writing and it’s so frustrating.

32. Do you enjoy reading or writing romance?

Reading it: depends. Writing it: yes, but I’ve only just gotten into it!

33. Do you annotate your books?

Depends on the book. If I’ve read it enough times to quote direct lines, then yes. I’ll never annotate a new book.

#annika talks #ask game

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iamvegorott · 6 years

Text

Undercover Love Ch. 2

Because all of you were so supportive it filled me inspiration and I just had to write more!

Code Orange

“She was a crazy bitch, but she really knew how to suck some-”

“Anti!” Chase scolded, covering Robbie’s ears.

“I’m just joking. She never did that anyway, she was too stuck up to think of anyone but herself.” Anti said, voice coming through the control panel, his body not visible from the cameras they hacked into yet.

“Of course she’s self-centered. She’s a mob-boss daughter.” Marvin said, crossing his arms while Chase ushered Robbie to the couch with Henrik and Jackie. “She’s used to getting everything she wants at the snap of her fingers.”

“Yeah yeah, when’s the Iplier dude supposed to get here?” Anti asked.

“His name is Bim and he should be there at any moment. He’s there to help you create a distraction while JJ sneaks in and gets the info we need.” Chase stated, coming back to the control panel, finally seeing Anti on a monitor.

“But I’m bored!” Anti whined.

“There’s a Tetris game in your bag,” Chase said, smiling a little when Anti cheered with joy and dug into his backpack.

“They said there were going to be here at five, right?” Henrik asked, checking his watch and flailing a little when the door opened the moment his watched turned to five.

“Creepy,” Marvin said in a whisper to Chase when Bim walked into frame at the same time.

“Very punctual,” Chase whispered back. “I see you brought the others.” Chase waved a hand at the Ipliers to let them know that they could enter fully.

“Everyone has their specialties and they need to know everything that is going on,” Dark stated.

“I made lemon squares if you guys want some.”

“Lemon squares?” Google’s eyebrows went up while Bing giggled.

“Robbie, do you mind?” Chase asked and Robbie nodded his head before picking the plate up and heading over to Google and Bing. Dark just rolled his eyes and went over to Chase.

“The two there are Google and Bing, our tech experts. Behind them is Host, our researcher, next to him is Dr. Iplier, our medical expert, and next to him and Yandere, our close combat expert.” Dark introduced the group.

“Love the skirt,” Marvin said with a smile.

“Thank you.” Yandere giggled, giving a little curtsy.

“Robbe there is a decoy we use, he’s also our little one,” Chase said.

“I make distractions,” Robbie stated and skipped away.

“Dude in the lab coat is Henrik, our good doctor. Superbro is Jackieboyman, we all just call him Jackie, he’s our fighter and our techy Anti and sneaky man JJ are out there with Bim, your ‘charmer’.” Chase shimmied a little.

“Social expert.” Dark corrected.

“So, JJ’s not here,” Wilford said with disappointment.

“We are here on business, Wilford,” Dark said.

“You two can have your fun after we’re done.” Chase winked. “I know I am.” He added in a whisper to Marvin. Dark was too busy watching the monitors to catch what Chase had said.

“I see JJ and Bim, but where is Anti?” Dark asked.

“He’s probably already at the house that-” Chase pressed a key and the monitors changed their angles. “Anti?” Chase pressed another button twice. “Anti, where are you? Anti!?”

“Shit! Fucking, great!” Anti cursed loudly. “Send the Ipliers home, now! Hopefully, it’s not too late.”

“Too late? Too late for what? I will not be left clueless.” Dark said harshly.

“Code orange! It’s an Orange!” Anti’s voice became static.

“You brought everyone here, right?” Chase asked, clicking several buttons.

“Yes, but what is a-”

“JJ! Code Orange at the Ipliers’, see if you can get Bim there in time, Anti’s already on his way and should be there soon. I’m sending the Ipliers down with Jackie and Henrik and I’ll be following as soon as everything is settled here.” Chase stated, hearing two beeps in his ear as confirmation. “Jackie, Henrik! Go! Follow them in the Cherry.” Henrik and Jackie both quickly got up and took off.

“Are you going to tell me what a Code Orange is or not?” Dark asked, gripping Chase’s upper arm.

“Hopefully, I’ll have to tell you instead of you seeing it,” Chase said.

“Dark, we should go,” Wilford said, already ushering the other Ipliers out.

“Fine,” Dark growled before running out with Wilford.

“Marvin, stay here with Robbie,” Chase said, pressing a few more buttons.

“I’m coming with everyone,” Marvin stated.

“Someone has to watch Robbie, I’m not leaving him here alone.” Chase heard some static in his earpiece.

“Confirmed Orange! Confirmed!” Anti’s voice was glitching out.

“Shit!” Chase cursed and removed the headset.

“I’m coming,” Marvin said sternly.

“Okay, okay, just stay back with Robbie, okay?” Chase grabbed a briefcase from under the control panel.

“Do you really think you’ll need it?” Marvin asked as took Robbie’s hand and ran out with Chase.

“Most likely not,” Chase replied.

“I don’t know what a Code Orange is, but it better be something important if Chase has the nerve to tell me what to do.” Dark huffed as Wilford drove the Ipliers’ van towards their headquarters.

“I hate being in the van.” Yandere grumbled.

“We can’t use our usual transportation with the Septiceyes following us, don’t wanna scare them,” Wilford said, adjusting the rearview mirror to see the red car behind them. “I bet everything’s al-fuck!” Wilford slammed on the breaks and they scrambled out of the van.

“I’m guessing that’s a Code Orange,” Bing said softly, his sunglasses reflecting the flames that engulfed the building.

“Google, Bing! Go in and try to get all of our reports and your laptops! Yandere, Host, find a hydrant or something to put out those flames!” Dark started giving orders. “Wilford go...” Dark’s voice trailed off when he saw someone step out of the building, two laptops and a stack of papers in one hand and dragging a corpse with the other by their long, blonde hair.

“Chemical fire, you ain’t gonna get it out with water.” The man stated, dropped the body and went up to Dark. “Bitch learned the hard way not to mess with something she didn’t know.” He chuckled as he glanced back at the corpse, the wound on her neck still seeping blood. “Here’s your computers and reports, it’s all I could get too before it got a little too hot to handle.” The man giggled, handing Dark the pile. “I’m assuming you’re the big and bad Dark. Name’s Anti.” He winked.

Dark found himself just staring at the man. The scar on his neck stood out like a sore thumb, but it wasn’t ugly, it actually added to his entire...being. The gauges, messy forest green hair, black, tight, shirt and ripped skinny jeans it was different than Dark was used to and he could just not stop staring. What was about their man that was making him do this? What was so special about him? Anti was just...different. That was it. He was just confused since he was used to his own group and the people he was hired by. That was it. That was the only thing.

|Buy Me A Ko-Fi| |Commissions|

Tag List: @wisevoidpastacash @rant-and-rave-to-save @superdltpurplerage @superarrowholockian @always-in-a-fandom @wolfbear135 @cutecatwhiskersstuff @blueyeswhitedragon16 @allimeraine @hey-wow-thats-me @pixelenchanter @queenbrandon @aviana-felsari @lavenderamy @northicckque @rainymae523 @timeless-gris @allthespaceboo @virge-of-death @crystal-fridge @demons-jim @blackkttn13

#hitman au #danti

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tottwritesfanfic · 6 years

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I was tagged by @humandisasterbuckybarnes (I totally didn’t even notice at first because I’ve been away from Tumblr, sorrryyyy!)

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

OOH. Well. This actually goes back a long way! The ‘tott’ part of TottWriter is really an acronym for the title of a series of fantasy novels I started writing in my teens. (They’ve undergone a lot of revisions since then.) I picked TotTWriter as a username when I joined a forum in 2006 because it summed up how I saw myself at that time, and it just sorta...stuck. As for what the acronym actually is? Gotta wait and see.

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos).

Ohgosh. Well, I think that one’s gotta be my Digimon fic Hope’s Fire, on pretty much all fronts. It’s my oldest, longest fic, and it’s posted on both Ao3 and ff, so it’s had plenty of time to accrue attention.

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

My Ao3 icon is a picture of a pen and paper roleplaying character I rolled a few years ago. (And was drawn by @iddstar, not me, because I am Not An Artist and Vic very much is.)

After finishing this I’m dropping the rest of it beneath a readmore, because it got a teensy bit long, and I complain bitterly if these hog my own dash.)

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

You know, I feel bad talking about regular commenters, given how irregularly I actually manage to post anything these days. I feel like it’s more appropriate for me to grovel and thank those people who have stuck with me this long. (I’m particularly grateful to @ittybittymattycommittee because it has been A While. You’re wonderful.)

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

I’m...I mean, there isn’t really a particular one? I have a few which I’ve read multiple times, but I tend to read the really long fics, which make regular re-reads a bit trickier. I absolutely want to go back over fics I’ve loved and enjoyed and experience that again, but it’s tricky when they take so long, and I have so little time.

...Actually, probably my most re-read fic is a YoI one called Rumble In Detroit. It’s a goddamn masterpiece which appeals exactly to my sense of humour. (Also only 6.4k, so totally readable in one go if you’re me.)

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

I’m really bad at bookmarking. I’ll read a fic, think, “This was awesome!” and then just...forget to bookmark it and pull my hair out later wondering what the hell it was. I scroll through my history to find stuff entirely too often. I have 53 bookmarked fics, and it should be way more.

Conversely, I am very prone to hitting that subscribe button. I have ten pages of the dratted things apparently, and okay, some of those are now completed fics, but...every now and then I get an update notification and can’t remember what the actual fic was.

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

...I mean, angsty ones? I don’t really have a preferred setting tbh, although more often than not there is something fantastical about what I write. Generally with my fanfiction I try to mix things up a lot more than my original fic. I make a point of trying to do as many different types of story as I can. Statistically though, Apocalypse/Dystopia scenarios and (surprisingly!) Soulmate AUs work out as the most common though.

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

25 brave souls have signed up for my infrequent update notifications (bless all of you), and the stats page shows me as having 201 bookmarks.

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

I mean, I’m pretty sure people judge me for what I already write. I’ve got fics tagged with MCD, after all, and I’m probably straying into shipping wars with at least one of my stories. I’m plenty nervous about the reaction people will have to the end of some of my fics, but I figure...ehh. I write these stories because I love them, and I share them because someone out there is bound to find them passable.

The only thing I won’t write under this name is explicit NSFW stuff, which is because, hey, I’m hoping to get YA fiction published someday, you know? I don’t want an underage reader looking my name up (see question 1 for why they might know it) and finding something like that.

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

It’s funny, because this is something I technically am better at than I used to be in years past, but the main thing is actually sitting down and writing more regularly. Despite appearances, I’ve actually written a lot of fanfic recently (Secret Santas mostly), but I could have done more than that if I’d been able to manage my time better. Also if Life hadn’t come along to mess up my day, but, hey. Go figure.

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

I guess it’s a bit of both? I never used to set out to write ships at all, because for me, relationships are secondary to plot when writing, but they do seem to happen more than they used to. I’m a big multishipper though so I like to mix it up.

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

I have 33 works on Ao3 in total. Of those...some are oneshots, 12 are in-progress multichapter fics and...um...one is a complete multichapter fic. Whoops.

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

*coughs and moves on*

For real though, I posted about this recently and it’s...including original fiction, we’re talking more than thirty, possibly over 40 by now. I very deliberately don’t keep track.

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

It’s a bit of both really. Sometimes I get an idea, and it’s too fragmentary to really do anything with, so I just sorta leave it in my head to fester and ferment. If I forget it, it probably wasn’t worth saving, but if it gets to the mindworm stage I write it down in my nearest notebook at the time and expand on it a bit.

...If it’s a really fun idea, I then track down that notebook later on and copy it out onto the computer where I can actually find it again.

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

Not for yeeeears! My sister and I started co-authoring a story back when we were teenagers, but we never actually finished the project. I really enjoyed collaborating though - it’s fun to combine forces and see what each person brings to the table!

16. How did you discover AO3?

I honestly cannot remember.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

Hahahahaha...no. It’s okay though, I’m not doing this for fame or attention. I just get these stories in my head and the only way to remove them is to write them out.

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

I don’t! I...honestly can’t think of a name, tbh. Names are my nemesis, why would I add more to my life?

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

WELL.

I’ve been writing stories for as long as I can remember. Probably since I was 6 or 7 (I can remember stapling paper together at school to make a “book” to write in). Probably I was doomed from the start, but the works of Tamora Pierce, Brian Jacques, Tolkien, John Wyndham and Sir Terry Pratchett are what shaped me from my teens onward. Those are the books I read which make me want to write my own.

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

Look, it’s really tempting I know, but don’t share online just yet. If you’re just starting out, you really are far better off keeping your work between you and trusted friends. I always look back and marvel at how damn lucky I am not to have had regular internet access until I was 18.

You see, it meant that all my early stories - from when I was figuring out who I was as a writer, and how I wanted to write - are tucked safely away where no one can shit on them. And people do. Not everyone of course, but some, and those first few years as a writer are the most fragile.

Every author builds up a thick skin over time, because trolls are gonna troll. But it’s hard, when you work on something and do your best, and someone leaves a shitty comment about it. To my mind, the most important thing you can do as a beginner is to shield yourself from that nonsense until you’ve found your feet. There will be time yet to post your stories. Wait until you can leave it to one side for a week and come back and not despise it. (Some level of “ohgodno” is expected for your own work pretty much forever, but you should at least feel some level of pride in your work first)

...it’s hard and it’s pretty unrewarding at first, I won’t lie. But think about it like this: beginner violinists often sound awful. No one wants to hear that. But if a musician can stick it through; work past the squeaking and the cringe-worthy missed notes... What you end up with is something which can reach right into someone’s heartstrings and leave a permanent impression.

And that is every bit worth the slog.

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

A bit of both! I have at the least a rough outline (sometimes a lot more than that) for almost all my stories before starting, but I generally add to and amend it as I go.

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

I think maybe once? It really wasn’t too bad though, so I just left it be. I’ve been stupidly lucky with my readers and love all of you.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

I was about to say NSFW stuff, and then I remembered confession scenes, which differ from NSFW in that I actually write those sometimes, and they take approximately five hundred times longer than literally anything else, including the smut which I hate writing so bad I practically never do it. Confession scenes are freaking hard.

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

TOO MANY. For real though, I have 3 secret santas, 3/4 active HQ fics, Hope’s Fire, and more which are sorta lurking in semi-activity beyond that. I have zero chill.

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

...I mean it’d be great if I could finish an ongoing story, NGL.

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

Nope! I try to stick to one during NaNo, but outside that life just sorta gets in the way too often.

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

I mean, the answer is yes either way, but I tend to distinguish the various phases of my writing? age 6-12 was half-arsed writing. Just sorta jotting down stories and not really thinking too much about them. From 13-16 I was so preoccupied with writing and finishing my novel that I didn’t leave room for such trifles as quality control. 16-24/5 was slow but steady improvements.

At 25 I realised hot damn, I have a lot to learn, and that is the point at which I consider that I started getting better for real.

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

You know, it sorta depends? Assuming we’re talking fanfic only (or, sorry, but my novel beats them all), I actually...really like the Trinacrifom series?

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

It was for a telephone prompt, it’s less than 600 words, nope, I’m not sharing it XD

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

I mean I’d like to say something like “getting paid for it”, but we all know I’m still gonna be here writing fanfic instead of my original work.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

For me it’s actually the ideas! I keep getting them pop into my head.

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

…Actually finishing things.

33. Why do you write?

At this point, writing is a little like breathing for me. It’s my identity. It’s who I am. I have so many ideas in my head and the only way to get them out is to write them, so I do. I hope that people enjoy them, certainly, and I want to think my words have an effect of some kind, but ultimately storytelling is hardwired into me and I don’t know how to stop.

Oh! Tagging. Right, after that textwall how about I pass the buck to someone else, hehe. @draculasstrawhat, @lethesomething, @iddstar and @quinnlocke as well as anyone else...if you wanna, you know? (No one’s obligated tho)

#ask memes #holy shit this got long #I waffle a lot I know #long post

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solerey · 4 years

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Rules & Verses for Mobile:

Having had these requested for my Finn account, I thought I should go ahead and make some mobile-accessible rules/verses for the rest of my accounts too, so here are Rey’s! (This also includes the various parental backstories I will play for her.) Note that while I don’t change my rules much (or basically ever lol) the VERSES information here is definitely not going to be up-to-date because I am forever making new aus…but here’s a start, at least, to give you something to explore until you get back to your computers!

Mun is named Nicky and is well over 21. Muse’s age will vary. Multi-ship and multi-verse.

RULES:

Following and Mututals:

This is a sideblog of nickyrp and as such cannot follow back.

We do not need to be mutuals to send memes or starters. Feel free to throw things like that at me at any time even if we’ve never played or plotted before. If I’m not interested or just too busy etc I promise I will let you know politely and not just leave you hanging!

If you want to play please send me a message or toss me a starter; I’m bad at paying attention to my follower count and probably didn’t notice your subtle arrival! Or thought you wanted to lurk idk. Say hi!

If you are a multimuse with a lot of characters or a lot of fandoms all on one url, I may not follow you because that tends to be overwhelming for me. It’s nothing personal nor a comment on your writing style; it’s just more than I can easily keep track of, myself. (That’s why mine are all on their own sideblogs.)

If I can’t read your blog (small text, low-contrast colors, etc) I will not interact with your character. I don’t have the best eyes and straining to read sucks all the fun out of rp. If you need any of my formatting or color choices adjusted for your own ease of accessibility please let me know! I will do so happily.

You can reblog any of my shit (headcanons, graphics, verses, meta, whatever) even if you’re a personal blog, I don’t care; it’s all one fandom imo. That said please don’t reblog my interaction threads with other people because most rp-ers do not like their things reblogged and I want to respect that. If I reblog anything of yours you do not want reblogged just let me know and I will delete it; I promise it’s just because I thought the thing was cool and got excited!

Interactions:

I am always up for trying new things so if you have a crazy idea, please hit me up! I promise I rarely disintegrate anyone.

I am happily open to interacting with Original Characters! I need to know who your character is though, so if you don’t have a bio or background I can find on your blog I’m not going to be interested.

I will not write smut with anyone under the age of eighteen.

If I ever do something that upsets or confuses or offends you, please let me know. It probably wasn’t intentional and I always want to be called out on problematic behavior because how else can I learn to do better? I promise to react apologetically, not defensively.

Formatting:

I’m a visual person so I like icons and gifs and will almost always incorporate them. If you don’t want to use images that’s cool with me, but I majored in comic book art so I enjoy the marriage of words with images. I should further admit that interactions with visuals do tend to keep me more excited than plain ones – I’m shallow!

I’m not a big fan of fancy formatting. I don’t mind if you use it but I don’t. Feel free to adjust my formatting to suit your aesthetic if that makes you more comfortable, but I’ll likely keep mine simple.

If you need any triggers tagged message me and I’ll do so gladly.

Canon & AUs:

I have as of yet read very little of the expanded universe materials for the New Canon (a few comics, the Thrawn novel, etc). As such, my portrayal of Rey may at times be lacking in regards to supplemental canon information. Please never hesitate to inform me of any details relevant to your character or any ongoing/burgeoning threads. I appreciate that assistance!

As far as the Legends EU goes, I have read most of the old novels (excepting NJO period) and many of the Dark Horse comics but that is a lot of material and I do not promise to remember everything. Please let me know if I make a mistake or assumption you do not agree with; I promise I will not be offended!

I will generally default to putting Rey into the canon of the Sequel Trilogy because that is where she comes from, but I am happy to play her in Legends Canon too – just let me know! If you don’t indicate verse/time on a meme or starter, I might pick another verse (or make a new one) so please indicate where you want to play if you have a preference!

I also love making AUs whether canon-divergence or totally off-the-wall so please don’t hesitate to throw new verses my way! I love both plotting and winging-it when building new worlds, so don’t be shy!

Characters Relationships & Shipping:

Platonic Ships: I generally enjoy Rey without any ships and am thus extraordinarily eager for friendships, familial relationships, and Found Family interactions. (Antagonistic and abrasive interactions are also welcome – it doesn’t have to be all sweetness and light all the time!) Rey very much wants to be loved, but it isn’t romance she is primarily looking for. I will usually write Rey as being either an aromantic or biromatic asexual.

OTPs: That said, I do thoroughly enjoy the idea of a Finn/Rey/Poe polyship and would be thrilled to play out interactions under that set-up. I will also happily ship her with either of those two gentlemen on their own, or with Rose Tico or Jess Pava or Jannah or really anyone whom it makes sense to ship her with, providing there is chemistry and a basis in friendship to build the ship from (whether that be formed via interaction or plotted ahead of time). Interspecies ships with non-human characters are also welcome!

NOTPs: No teacher/student, adult/minor, or incestuous ships, please. Additionally I will not ship Rey with Kylo Ren in any verse. I have no objections to playing in verses where they are not related, but due to the fact that I started thinking of them them as siblings about five minutes into my first viewing of TFA (the Jaina/Jacen vibes were too strong for my Legends-based heart, sorry!), it is simply something that I am not comfortable shipping regardless of their actual familial status in a verse or lack thereof. Please tag your reylo so I can block it?

One-Way Ships: I will never force a ship on you. I expect the same courtesy in return. That said, you are more than welcome to have your character express unrequited romantic feelings toward mine. (In most cases I expect I’d even be okay with this sort of one-way attraction coming from a Kylo Ren character; if it ends up crossing the edges of my comfort zone I’ll let you know!)

Main Faceclaim: Daisy Ridley [older: Keira Knightley] [younger: Raffey Cassidy]

“We are the spark that will light the fire that will burn the First Order down.” ―Poe Dameron

VERSES & BACKSTORIES:

I am a big fan of AUs and canon-divergent verses so if you don’t see something here that looks like your cup of caf know that I am always happy to plot out a new one! Also feel free to pull anything from my wishlist.

BACKSTORY OPTIONS: I find that I enjoy the Rey Palpatine/Rey-Chooses-Skywalker Idea more and more the longer I contemplate it. I do however remain wholly convinced that Rey Organa-Solo was the original intention with the character in TFA. Thus, for threads set early in Rey’s character arc I am likely to default to Rey Organa-Solo while in threads set later I’ll probably go the Palpatine/Skywalker route. (And I have other options too!) If you have a backstory preference, please specify before starting a thread.

The Last Solo (default canon verse): Rey was too little to remember that her full name was Breha Organa Solo but it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been one hundred; when Emperor Palpatine decides to mind-rub the entire galaxy, they forget. Sensing the all-but-unprecedented power within the little girl, the half-resurrected shadow of Palpatine was too tempted by her potential to destroy her outright; instead he erased her life. He couldn’t erase the emotional weight of her absence, though, nor the instant sense of connection felt by both Rey and those who had once loved her. Even Kylo Ren didn’t know why the little girl he dragged from the ruins of the Jedi Temple mattered, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill her, instead abandoning both her and his father’s ship on Jakku before following Snoke into the Dark. Palpatine’s lies about Rey’s lineage fooled everyone for a time – but in the end, the truth felt real in a way that the lies did not, and Rey reclaimed the heritage he had stolen. In the end, Palaptine lost everything.

The Last Skywalker (secondary canon verse): When the half-resurrected former Emperor mind-rubbed the entire galaxy to forget Luke Skywalker’s daughter, he succeeded – but his former Hand recognized the feeling of his touch on her thoughts. Mara Jade immediately knew he was back. She didn’t know why she felt such a connection to the little girl buried beside her in the ruins of the Jedi Temple, but she knew she had to kill her former master – and that she had to keep this child safe. She “borrowed” her brother-in-law’s ship and went searching for Palaptine, her forgotten daughter in tow. When she reached Jakku, she left the girl and the ship behind, knowing the next step was too dangerous to bring a child she loved along – but the Final Order she found was more than the fragments of the Empire she had expected, and Mara never returned for her daughter. That didn’t stop the girl who called herself Rey from sensing a connection to her true family when she finally found them again, nor stop her from claiming her true lineage in the end in spite of Palaptine’s lies. (Can also be played with a different mother!)

Palpatine’s Heir (canonical canon verse): When Rey at last discovered her lineage, she was horrified. She was the granddaughter of Emperor Palpatine, the man who had destroyed the Old Republic and created the Empire – and was now the resurrected Lord of the Sith. After initially giving in to fear and despair at the darkness she believed she saw within herself, Rey eventually returned to the war. With the assistance of Kylo Ren, who had turned his back on the Sith at the last minute, she was able to destroy Palpatine while the Resistance obliterated the Final Order’s fleet. Hope was restored to the galaxy, Rey was restored to life in a final act of atonement, and the stain of the Sith was at last ended…at least for now. Choosing to turn her back on the bloodline that spawned her, Rey has instead declared herself a Skywalker in essence if not in birthright, carrying on the legacy of the late Luke and Leia. As the first of the new Jedi, Rey now looks to teach others the ways of the Force as Leia did her – starting with her dearest friend, Finn.

Not So Nobody (alt canon verse): The daughter of Kam and Tionne Solusar, two of Luke’s earliest Jedi students, Rey was the first child born within the Temple. Kylo Ren desperately wanted to make her his first apprentice of the Dark Side, but the Solusars escaped the slaughter and fled across the galaxy. The First Order pursued. Unable to shake them, Kam and Tionne made landfall on the nearest planet: Jakku. They hid Rey with a junk dealer and left, planning to lead Ren away and double-back when it was safe – but the First Order caught them. They convinced Kylo Ren that Rey had died of wounds taken during the attack on the Temple, but the deception cost them their lives. Kylo Ren was irritated to have lost Rey as an apprentice but had more important things to do than dwell on the death of one child…until he heard about the girl on Jakku who helped the deserter. He knew immediately who she had to be – and that she would become his apprentice after all, or he would ensure that her parents’ lie became the truth.

Orphan of Jakku (alt canon verse): Kylo Ren told the truth: Rey’s parents were nobody…but what does that matter? A person’s worth isn’t determined by their lineage but by their choices. And Rey chooses the Light and the Resistance and she will give her all to defend her friends and to free the galaxy from the shackles the First Order wants to wrap them in. Kylo Ren might be descended from Darth Vader but Rey doesn’t need to be a Skywalker too in order to end him and his reign.

Twinverse (for duplicates): Twins run in the Skywalker line, and B(rey)ha and Pad(mey) were no exception. Named for both of Leia’s mothers, their loss hit her as hard her son’s fall to the Dark Side – and hit the girls even harder: separated for the first time in their lives, they were scattered to distant planets and lost, abandoned. So young they could barely remember their own names let alone those of their family, they grew-up like orphans until one day “Rey” found herself leaving aboard a ship whose controls fit her hands like they’d been made for her. When the Force stirred in Rey, it reached out to her sister as well and Mey went looking for the family that had never come back to find her. (I’m happy to play either Rey or Other Rey in all versions! Can also be done as Skywalker twins or nobody twins. Names changeable!)

SEQUEL TRILOGY VERSES:

Her Mother’s Daughter (alt post-TFA): Leia had always been too busy running rebellions and piecing-together governments to truly master the Force, but she knew enough to teach Rey the basics – at least until the old friends she dispatched to fetch her brother could talk him into coming back. She could have sent Rey, but after losing Han she didn’t want to let her daughter out of her sight – not so soon after finding the long-thought-dead girl again. Besides, they had so much to catch up on…and the Resistance could use a Force Sensitive woman like Breha, training or no training. And for General Organa, duty always came first.

Corrupted Coordinates (alt post-TFA): the map did not lead them to Master Skywalker. Artoo wasn’t sure if the data was corrupted or if Luke had been there at one point and then moved on – but wherever he was, it wasn’t here. Unwilling to return to the Resistance empty-handed (to fail again the way she had failed to save Han, to protect Finn) Rey went looking for every rumor of Luke she could find. Aboard the Millennium Falcon with Chewbacca and R2-D2 in tow, she is determined to keep searching until she can come back to Leia with something that will give them all hope.

A Newer Hope (alt TLJ): It wasn’t Rey who finally convinced Luke Skywalker to come back to the Force, back to the Resistance, back to his sister; it was the droid Artoo Deetoo, perhaps Luke’s oldest living friend. Artoo’s old hologram reminded Luke of the boy he’d once been and the hopes that had once filled his life to brimming. Lifting her Jedi Master’s ancient X-Wing from the water had been the last task Rey completed before Luke deemed her ready to return to the galaxy and to continue her training from within the Resistance, although he was cautious about letting her progress too quickly, unable to shake his fears of creating another Kylo Ren.

A Skywalker Returned (alt TLJ): If Luke had not cut himself off from the Force he would have recognized his daughter’s presence the moment she set foot on that island. As it was, the resemblance she bore to his sister – to the woman his daughter would have been if she had lived to grow-up – seemed like a cruel joke of the Force and inspired him to push her away instead. His daughter had died alongside her mother, murdered by Ben Solo in an attempt to hide his fall to the Dark Side…or so Luke had thought. Unable to kill his little cousin, Ben instead mind-rubbed her and dumped the confused girl on an out-of-the-way planet. He never expected the girl from Jakku to come back to haunt him – but the Force has a way of returning things to their proper balance, and Kylo Ren knows now that no lies will keep him safe from his long-lost cousin. Unless he can twist her to the Dark Side the way Snoke once twisted him, their next meeting will leave one or both of them dead.

The Rise of Organa-Solo (post-TLJ): Rey felt an instant connection to Han and Leia (and Kylo Ren), the Force within her whispering that this was the family she sought. Her father thought her resemblance to his beloved Leia was mere coincidence and died before learning the truth; her mother surely sensed something when they met but whether out of concern she might be wrong or hopes of sparing Rey further emotional turmoil before she started her Jedi training, Leia said nothing…and Luke had cut himself off from the Force and thus was unable to recognize his niece. Now only Leia remains to guide Rey into the Light away from Snoke’s lies and toward her destiny – but will the truth make it harder or easier for her when she has to kill her brother?

The First Jedi (alt post-TLJ): While Leia reforges the fragments of the Resistance into a New Rebellion, Rey has a mission of her own: finding other Force Sensitives and leading them with her into the Light before Kylo Ren’s agents can drag them to the Dark Side. She is no Jedi Master but she has the ancient Jedi teachings to draw from, friends to support her, and her own clarity of vision to guide her. She will learn, and she will teach. The Jedi will not end with her.

The Sunrider Option (alt TROS): With Kylo Ren dead at her hand, Rey faced Palpatine alone – but she had read the old Jedi texts and knew of a different sort of sacrifice she could make. She did as commanded and struck him down, claiming her position as Empress of the Sith – but severed herself from the Force at the same time. The spirits of the Sith moved from him to her…and found nothing waiting there that could house them. They faded, dissipating into nothing but impotent screams. Before the Final Order could realize the ritual had failed, she gave the command for their fleet to stand down. The combined Resistance and Free People’s Fleets destroyed most of their ships before they could fight back or flee, and Rey returned to her friends alive and untainted – but forever sundered from the Force. Now she does her best to pass her training on to Finn so he can guide the new generation of Jedi that she will never be a part of…and learns to live with a world that will feel forever muffled, forever less.

The Balance Restored (post TROS): While Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, Kaydel co Connix, and the other leaders of the Resistance turn their hand from rebellion to building a government, Rey has a mission of her own: finding other Force Sensitives and training them as Leia did her. From the fragments of the Jedi Order, something new will rise – something that is not bound by the limitations of the Jedi Code or the sins of Jedi past, but something nonetheless firmly rooted in the Light. She will restore balance to the galaxy one student at a time, starting with her first apprentice: Finn.

Rebel Daughter (pre-TFA divergence): Breha was not lost when her brother fell to the Dark Side. She grew-up amidst the strain and stress of political upheaval and imminent war, but she also grew-up surrounded by family. Breha’s devotion to the Resistance is total – almost. The loss of her brother cut her too deep for even the dozens of unofficial aunts, uncles, and quasi-siblings of her parents’ friends and allies to assuage – but dragging Ben back to the Light would do it. Breha refuses to give up on the big brother she once adored, no matter what Uncle Luke or her parents caution her, but will she risk the continued survival of the Resistance she loves on her certainty that Ben is still in there somewhere, and she can bring him back? She tells herself it’s the will of the Force guiding her – but maybe she just misses her brother.

Scoundrel Daughter (pre-TFA divergence): when Ben Solo fell to the Dark Side, Leia and Han decided that the Force was too dangerous for their remaining child. Duty demanded that General Organa stay with her burgeoning Resistance, so Han and Chewie took young Breha away from war and into the safety of the seedier side of life. She grew up more on the Falcon than off, flitting from port to port and learning the tricks of the smuggler trade rather than the ways of the Force. It wasn’t until Hosnian Prime met its grim fate that they came home to Leia, joining the Resistance for a desperate mission to Starkiller Base – and Breha’s first confrontation with her brother since she had been a little girl and he had not yet become a monster.

Dark Lady of Ren (pre-TFA divergence): When young Ben Solo proved resistant to Snoke’s manipulations he set his sights on an easier target: the boy’s baby sister. His assault on the Jedi Temple left many survivors, but it had all been a distraction so he could kidnap Breha. Raised to the Dark Side and indoctrinated with the beliefs of the First Order, Kreya Ren has few memories of any life before and even less interest in uncovering them. With her family convinced that she died thirteen years ago, she might never have discovered her origins – save that Poe Dameron knew the moment they came face to face who this woman who looked so much like Leia had to be. That had been Kreya’s first mission as a Knight of Ren and she took Dameron’s escape and the defection of the traitor FN-2187 personally. Vowing to destroy the Resistance once and for all, Kreya Ren never expected to discover a brother barring her way – nor parents who refused to accept that she would never turn her back on the Dark Side.

Orderly Mechanic (pre-TFA divergence): The First Order was never picky about where it harvested its resources – or about how willing they were. Rey didn’t want to leave Jakku but she wasn’t given a choice when stormtroopers marched over the sands “recruiting” anyone useful. She was barely a teenager but everyone knew she was good with machines and they needed people to keep their ships spaceworthy. At least she’s learned a lot, although “traveling the galaxy” probably would be more exciting if she ever got to step foot off the ships for more than the occasional dirtside repair. Being a young and self-taught prodigy has netted Rey few friends among her co-workers, but some of the stormtrooper recruits at least are nice to the girl who helps fix their boots and blasters…and so far no one, not even Rey herself, has realized that her instinctive avoidance of Kylo Ren is anything more than ordinary prudence. And every day, her lost family feels a little further away…

More Coming Soon! like literally as soon as soon as someone asks for or suggests one, I love AUs. Don’t be shy!

LEGENDS EU VERSES:

Another Desert Daughter (as Shmi’s great-granddaughter): Luke felt an instant connection to the new Jedi trainee the moment Rey stepped into the temple. Here was yet another Force user from Tatooine, another orphaned child of the sands who dreamed beyond the confines of her hot and distant world, like Taihiri Veila and himself before them. So why did the extent of her powers frighten him? Was it because the coincidental resemblance of her features and his niece’s, his sister’s, had Luke making the mental leap to yet another Jedi from Tatooine? But this girl was no Vader, surely! Of course, if he had known that she too carried Skywalker blood in her veins, Luke might have let himself worry more…but Shmi Skywalker had died too quickly to tell her son that there was another. (can be set at any time in Legends Continuity but probably not NJO because I don’t know it)

Lost Hapan Princess (as Allana Djo Solo): deeming it too dangerous to hide her daughter in plain sight with Han and Leia Organa-Solo, Tenel Ka sent Allana to Dathomir after faking her death – but the ship never made it there. Left on the nearest planet for safe-keeping by her escort while they dealt with the threat pursing them, Allana soon found herself abandoned and alone. Her memories damaged by the upheaval in the Force following Caedus’s fall and Abeloth’s rise, she spent the next several years sure of nothing but that she had family out there somewhere who would be coming back for her…but as the amnesiac girl drew inward to shield herself from the darkness in the Force, Tenel Ka was forced to conclude that her deception about her daughter’s death had become the truth: Allana was gone. But the Force wasn’t done with the woman now called Rey just yet… (for post-LOTF interactions)

Littlest Solo Sister (as Breha Organa-Solo): either taking Anakin Solo’s place as the youngest of the three Solo children, standing alongside Anakin as the second set of Organa-Solo twins, or as the fourth and youngest of the siblings, Breha grew-up as the daughter of the New Republic’s Chief of State and the niece of the Jedi Grand Master. It was a life that involved lots of affection from a host of unofficial aunts and uncles, the occasional kidnapping, and training in the Jedi Temple on Yavin Four. It eventually involved war as well, interspersed with tragedy and darkness. (can be set at any time in Legends Continuity but I really don’t know the NJO so assistance with details may be necessary if you want that)

More Coming Soon! like literally as soon as soon as someone asks for or suggests one, I love AUs. Don’t be shy!

#rules #verses #rp style #sw rp #ooc ramblings #for mobile users

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missmeikakuna · 5 years

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Chad and the Incel Chapter 3

Rated: M

Fandom: Original Fiction (but inspired by the Virgin vs Chad meme)

Relationship type: Male/Male with a bit of Female/Female (the lesbians are adorable, btw) and unrequited Male/Female (in other words, the guys are bisexual).

Description: Chad is, well, a Chad, or at least he looks like one. He’s got his sights set on the cool nerd Becky and enlists the help of her shy incel ex-friend Noah, offering to help him get the gorgeous girl (Stacy) he desperately wants. Noah is reluctant to help, believing that he will be stuck in inceldom forever, but Chad’s interest in his life gives him hope. When their plans go awry, they start turning their romantic attention towards each other.

Content Warning: Given the subject matter, you can guess that this story has dark themes in it, such as suicide and self-harm (plus the mental health issues that often cause them), sexism, slut-shaming homophobia, biphobia and transphobia. There is also swearing and some mentions of sex but nothing too explicit (hence the M rating as opposed to an Explicit rating).

3rd Post: [Experiment] (POLL) Who is the enemy?

Tyrone was at it again. He was going on and on about the other team in their upcoming game being a bunch of pussies, despite knowing that most of the other team’s members were twice his size.

Chad ignored him, preferring to smile at Noah, who ignored him. The squeak of sneakers against the unpolished wooden floor filled the sweaty room.

‘What’s the point of bragging when they’re not even here?’ Chad finally asked Tyrone while picking up a dodgeball. He frowned when he saw Noah just standing there but gave him a thumbs up when he instinctively caught a ball. Noah glared at him before pushing his fringe over his eyes and hiding behind it.

Tyrone’s glare was even more vicious. ‘What, you scared? Think the other team can hear us all the way from their shitstain of a school?’ He hurled a ball at Becky, who fumbled but ended up catching the ball. She smirked at him before frowning as if she’s made a huge mistake.

She was right, in a way. ‘You said dodgeball was the moron’s sport!’ Tyrone yelled. ‘You a hypocrite or something?’

Becky looked at the ground. ‘Middle school doesn’t count,’ she murmured. She then raised her voice. ‘We all said stupid things then. You once bragged about sleeping with a teacher and there was a needless investigation all because of you.’

The teacher blew her whistle. ‘Tyrone, go to the side of the court. Becky, focus on the game.’

Instead of following orders, Tyrone stormed up to Becky. Chad’s blood became magma just waiting for him to erupt.

‘So now you‘re talking again? Decided not to be a frigid bitch? It’s been a while. Were you afraid that if you talked in homeroom that Shakespeare’s jizz’ll come out of your mouth?’

Before the teacher could chastise him for using foul language, Chad shoved him to the ground. He leaned down and grabbed him by the collar. Tyrone flailed his arms about in the hopes of landing a punch but each punch had the strength of a baby mouse-deer. Chad’s punches, on the other hand, carried the strength of an African elephant whose family was poached. Soon Tyrone’s face was covered with blood. Chad gave him one last shove into the ground before standing up and looking at Becky with a hopeful smile. Becky scrunched her nose at him before crossing her arms and looking away.

Noah, on the other hand, stared at him with wide eyes and a mouth that constantly shifted from a grin to a frown and vice-versa.

Chad was sent to the Principal’s office where he was given three weeks in detention rather than a suspension or expulsion like one would expect.

‘I know how you boys are,’ the Principal said. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

Chad returned to class just as the bell for lunchtime buzzed around the gym. He waved at Becky as she brushed past him, refusing to look at him.

He grabbed her arm but Becky tore her arm away from him.

‘What do you want?’

Chad smiled at her. ‘So, uh, what did you think?’

Becky closed her eyes and sighed. ‘I have no interest in your penis-measuring contest with Tyrone. And besides, you know he’s a lot weaker than you. You may as well have beaten up a baby. Not exactly impressive.’

Chad’s blood went from magma to ice, rendering the act of movement intensely difficult. All he could do was shiver as Becky continued to glare at him.

‘Are we done here?’ Becky asked. Chad paused before nodding.

Noah left the gym last, waiting for everyone else to go before him. When he saw Chad he did the same smile-frown-smile thing he was doing before.

‘You okay?’ Chad asked him.

Noah, caught off guard, stepped back into the doorway. ‘Uh, yeah. I’ve never seen a real white knight before.’

Chad flexed his arm. ‘Finally someone appreciates what I did.’

Noah looked down at different spots on the ground, not focusing on a single spot for very long.

‘I don’t know if I appreciate it, per se,’ he whispered.

He didn’t talk to Chad for the remainder of the day.

At home he decided to make two posts to Incels.me, one a blog post about the day.

Anicel1919- [Soy] A Chad resorts to being a White Knight

You’d think a Chad wouldn’t need to do this since he can get any femoid he wants, but I guess we live in a weird sexual economy where even a Chad has to prove himself to a femoid to get her approval. I swear to God, feminists ruin everything.

So there’s this Tyrone (or at least, he’s named Tyrone. Doesn’t look like one.) who’s picking on this Becky that Chad likes, so he beats him up.

I’m honestly kind of conflicted. It was kind of nice to see him be all brave but at the same time I remember I used to be a white knight until I learned it was pointless for me. Femoids only care about chivalry when someone who isn’t a sub-8 is doing it.

Or at least that’s what I thought. I overheard Chad talking to the girl afterwards and she wasn’t impressed. What an ungrateful bitch! I bet she thinks she has to play hard to get or some bullshit like that.

He then posted a poll.

Anicel1919- [Experiment] (POLL) Who is the enemy?

Femoids

Feminists

Parents

Bullies

r/inceltears (more like Cucktears, am I right?)

Chads

A few days later, there were fairly even splits between each answer, though, to Noah’s surprise, the Chads option was a little smaller in popularity.

‘Huh…’ he whispered while tapping his fingers against the desk in his room.

At school, Noah stood next to Stacy’s locker. He reminded himself of when Chad took the initiative to defend Becky and that, while it didn’t work on someone like Becky, it could work on Stacy.

His heart stopped for a moment and then quickly went into overdrive when he saw Stacy saunter towards her locker. His smile faltered when he realised that she was going past her locker.

He followed her, making sure he was a few steps behind so as not to look suspicious.

She strutted to the library, which Becky was just then entering. Noah hid behind a corner just outside the library.

‘Um, uh, can I… talk to you?’ Stacy asked, her confident walk collapsing into a pigeon-toed, slightly bent-over stand.

Becky walked backwards out of the library and smiled softly. ‘Sure.’ Stacy stood there in silence, fidgeting with the hem of her short sundress. ‘Sure,’ Becky repeated a little louder, sending a shock through Stacy’s spine.

‘Oh, yeah. So, um, You’re really… prart… uh, I meant to say pretty but then I ended up trying to say smart and they just kind of… mushed together.’ Becky frowned and raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m sorry! So, this is going to sound really weird and I get it if you end up being grossed out by me, but… I kind of… like you.’

By this point Stacy was covering her face. Becky moved her eyes from side to side.

‘Oh. I… I find you to be pretty as well. Maybe not ‘smart’ since I don’t know your grades, but you also seem kind enough. I should probably focus on my studies, though. I’m not grossed out by you. I like you too, in fact.’

Stacy nodded, her lips contorted into a smile that didn’t belong. ‘That’s fair. Um, if end up being less busy for whatever reason, let me know.’

With a nod of her own, Becky went back into the library. Noah’s nails tried to dig into the wall by the corner but this only hurt him. His mouth was wide open and so were his eyes.

He took out his phone and messaged Chad.

The school library’s kind of shit, so let’s go to this library near my place today. We should look for books about seduction.

Chad agreed and headed there after detention was over. This particular library, a wide one-story building that stood in front of a lake, made him forget to breathe for a moment. Everything, from the floor to the desks to the bookcases, was covered with spray paint, the vagueness of each tag implying that this was an intentional decision on the part of the library owners. Chad was careful with his steps until he realised that the broken mirror shards on the floor were stuck to it and wouldn’t hurt him. The lights flickered but were still bright enough to read a book under. The bookshelves themselves were shaped like high school lockers with each ‘locker’ opened. The library smelled of paint and old paper.

Noah snickered at Chad’s dropped jaw. ‘Cool, huh? The selection’s even cooler. I’d spend the rest of my life here if I could.’

Much to Chad’s surprise, Noah practically skipped to the dated computer in the corner of the room. To even more of Chad’s surprise, the computer worked like new and had modern features despite looking like it belonged in the early 90s. Noah typed the words ‘seduce women’ into the library search engine, causing Chad to wince and look from side to side. He relaxed his shoulders when he saw that the coast was clear.

Noah headed to one of the bookshelves and searched for the book. He then headed to another section and pulled out what looked like an anime, but as a book. Chad held back laughter when he saw the title of this book-anime. ‘Is it Wrong to Seduce Girls During the Zombie Apocalypse?’

‘Is that an anime?’ Chad couldn’t help but ask as they sat at two oak desks that the library owners had pushed next to each other.

Noah scrunched his nose up for a second but let it go and smiled when he noticed the twinkle of genuine curiosity in Chad’s eyes.

‘It’s a manga, actually. Like anime, but in comic book form.’ Chad nodded in understanding. ‘You can learn a lot about Japanese culture from reading these. I also have a feeling if I try a bunch of stuff from these, one of the techniques is bound to work.’

‘Is... that how it works?’ Chad asked as nicely as he could.

Noah glared at him. ‘Shut up.’ He abruptly opened the manga and pushed the other book towards Chad. ‘Get a Date in Five Easy Steps,’ it read. Chad held up the book and marveled at how thick it was.

Instead of reading the book, he stared at Noah, who was flipping through pages as fast as a competitive speed reader. His thick eyebrows went all the way down to his eyes and his lips went red from him biting them.

‘So, uh, what made you decide to come here?’ Chad asked him, looking away and trying to play off the ever so slight speed increase in his heartbeat as nothing.

Noah slammed the manga shut, his tears welling up. ‘Well, I… I saw Stacy… I saw her… I saw her…’

‘Are you about to-’

‘No I’m not! You think I’m a faggot or something like that?’ Chad felt tempted to look left to right again as an old memory threatened to punch its way back into his consciousness. ‘Anyway, Stacy… confessed to Becky.’

‘Wait, what? So Stacy’s a…’

‘I guess so. Well, unless she gets asked out by some Chad, I’m guessing.’ Noah lowered his voice to a spat out whisper. ‘Fucking femoids.’

‘Fem-what?’

‘Femoids. You know, women. They don’t even deserve that name. They’re all sluts. If you want to be shorter, you can call them foids.’

‘Is this to do with that black… pell thing?’

‘Blackpilled. Yeah. I’m an incel.’ Noah groaned at Chad’s question marked face. ‘Involuntary celibate. I don’t want to be celibate, but I can’t help it when no woman even talks to me.’

‘Have you tried talking to them?’

‘Don’t give me that shit. You know if I tried that a girl would just call me ugly or creepy and run away screaming. I’d rather not end up in a jail cell for a crime I didn’t commit.’

‘So why are we here?’

Noah was silent for a moment. ‘Well, to be honest, you managed to fool me for a second.’ He stood up, put the books away and headed out of the library. Chad chased after him.

‘We can still hang out, right?’

‘Why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me?’

Chad shrugged. ‘I guess you’re kind of interesting. I want to ask you more questions about this blackpill thing.’

Noah paused, then nodded with a frown. ‘I’ll… see you at school, then.’ He turned around and waved goodbye with his back to Chad. He then put his headphones on and slowly inhaled and exhaled.

At the school library, Becky kept reading the same sentence multiple times as Stacy’s words resonated in her mind. She eventually realised that she was playing with her ponytail and gave up on reading the textbook.

‘Shit,’ she whispered.

#chad vs incel #chad x incel #bisexual #Incel #romance #drama #original fiction #breaking stereotypes #lesbian #Chad and the Incel

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uozlulu · 6 years

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WIP Fic. Guardians of the Galaxy/Avengers. Untitled. PG-13-ish

Back in April 2016 I had surgery and due to brain damage I have i had a really bad reaction to anesthesia and I had to build my brain back up to speed. The first fic writing idea I got post-surgery was Infinity War, but from a Guardians of the Galaxy perspective instead of an Avengers perspective. It was the only idea I had so I ran with it until I hit a brick wall of inspiration in how to write the second half of the fic idea.

Since the Infinity War trailer is out now I might as well post the portion of first draft I wrote since I did put a lot of time and effort into it so it’d be a waste not to share. If there’s an interest in me finishing this fic, editing it, and making it good enough to post on AO3 and ff.net I’ll gladly continue it even though that will mean posting it after the movie comes out. If there’s no interest in that that’s okay too. Like I said, I don’t want the time and effort it took to make a playlist (this is a GotG fic after all) and write 15,913 words to go to waste.

It’s been spell checked and grammar checked via Word. My writing process is to write up a rough draft and then edit it once all the chapters are written so it’ll likely be rough in places or not fleshed out enough. I’ll give a rough overview of where the fic is going in the second half since it’d not be fair to post this and not tell you roughly how it ends in case it never does get finished.

So here we go....

Title Title Goes Here Author Uozumi AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr Fandom Avengers (MCU)/Guardians of the Galaxy (MCU) Character(s)/Pairing(s) Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Daughters of Thanos, Drax, Gamora, Groot, Happy Hogan, Scott Lang, Mantis, Wanda Maximoff, May Parker, Peter Parker, Pepper Potts, Hope Pym, Peter Quill, Rocket Racoon, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, T’Challa, Thanos, Thor, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson Genre Action/Alternate Universe/Science Fiction/War Rating PG-13 Word Count 15,913 Disclaimer MCU c. Marvel, Disney Summary The Guardians of the Galaxy track Thanos to the Solar System. Upon reaching Earth’s orbit, their ship runs afoul and they’re scattered across the globe. As they encounter the Avengers it becomes obvious that both groups must unite and stop Thanos’ threat Warning(s) language, fire, violence, death, major character deaths, spoilers for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 (2017), spoilers for the trailers for Thor: Ragnarok (2017) and Spider-Man: Homecoming(2017) Notes For the sake of narrative clarity Peter Quill is Quill and Peter Parker is Parker. This fic also places the Ginnungagap somewhere between Greenland and Iceland. I wanted to make this a more Guardians centered fic to avoid possibly making the fic too much like the upcoming Infinity War movies. I’m just excited to be able to write fic again so I’m running with the first idea that came to me. I also will be honest that I’ve not seen Doctor Strange (2016), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), or Thor: Ragnarök (2017).

Title Goes Here Three hops. Three more hops. It was almost two years since Yondu’s death. The Guardians of the Galaxy tracked Thanos, edging ever closer. Three jumps and they would be in the same solar system. Quill held his breath. Gamora squeezed his shoulder from the seat behind his. Two jumps. Groot slept quietly in Drax’s lap. Mantis sat with Gamora in front of the security panel. Their new ship was smaller than Quill’s old ship, but had ample space for the small crew and whoever tagged along from time to time. Mantis wanted to touch Quill and understand his emotions, but she did not feel like she could ask right now, that anyone could speak right now. One final jump. Quill let out a long, low breath. “Almost there,” Rocket said. There was not much either of them could do while the ship jumped. The ship shuddered to impulse engines as they finally arrived at their destination. They were three planets away from Thanos’ main ship. “Cant’ Fight This Feeling,” by REO Speedwagon started to play as the Earth loomed in the cockpit windshield. Peter stared. When Yondu abducted him almost thirty years ago Peter had not comprehended what happened long enough to look back at Earth before they warped out of view. He swallowed. “It’s so…blue,” Mantis said quietly. “It explains his moods,” Drax said as if in some kind of agreement. “I am Groot,” Groot yawned. “We arrived,” Rocket answered the question and then pointed off to the left, “but what is that?” Everyone looked at an object coming into view as it orbited the Earth. There were groups of eight solar panels on either side of several linked structures. “It’s too primitive to be Thanos’,” Gamora said. “Is it Terran?” Peter frowned. “I don’t know. Looks like Skylab or something, so probably.” His mind filled with questions and quandaries. Did Earth have any kind of space defense? Was this a space defense? An explosion at the stern of the ship caused everyone to move forward with the vibration. Groot fell out of Drax’s lap. The attack alert system began to sound and the security screen in front of Gamora and Mantis brought up the rear view cameras. “It’s a Chitauri sentinel,” Gamora said. “He’s firing to port.” Rocket brought up the weapon systems while Peter navigated the ship. He was not fast enough and another shot sent the ship towards Earth’s orbit. “I will go out and meet them in –” Drax said and started to undo his safety harness. “We don’t need anyone to go outside,” Peter said. “We need the guns in the back.” “We don’t have any guns in the back anymore,” Rocket said. “The sentinel is moving to starboard,” Mantis reported. “That I can do,” Rocket said and returned fire on the Chitauri ship. Groot found himself huddled under one of the seats. From his hiding spot he could see a red button behind a small cage. It was a special button only meant for emergencies. Everyone was careful to tell him not to touch it. The ship rocked again. They were losing altitude quickly. Everyone was shouting. Groot could not tell if they were winning or losing, but it felt like losing. It felt like an emergency. He extended a branch towards the button and pushed. “Ejection sequence activated,” the ship’s voice said. “Ejection sequence activated. Please remained seated.” “What the –” Peter glanced over his shoulder and did a head count. “Where’s Groot?” “I am Groot,” Groot said and he scrambled up into the empty chair. “Ten,” the computer said. “You WHAT?” Rocket asked. “Nine.” “I am Groot,” Groot said. “Eight.” The computer activated everyone’s safety gear so that they each became encased in a bubble wrap looking space suit. “Seven.” Peter tried to keep the ship stable. “Someone needs to stop this ejection sequence.” “Six.” “I’m trying! I’m trying!” Rocket said. “It’s not responding.” “Five.” “We need a meeting place,” Gamora said. “Four.” “Uh…” Peter tried to think of a landmark. Any landmark. “Three.” “Peter!” “Two.” “The St. Louis arch!” Peter said. “One.” The windshield lowered and the ship ejected everyone except for Peter, who sat in the captain’s chair, into Earth’s atmosphere. Peter kept control of the wounded ship. All he could do was guide it towards what looked like North America as everyone else disappeared from view, as “Baby, I can’t fight this feeling anymore,” brought an end to the sound playing over the speaker system. The group ejected from the ship were too high up for their jet rockets to engage immediately. Their suits protected them from disintegrating in the reentry friction. One by one the winds pulled them away from each other until only Groot and Rocket remained. “Groot! GROOT!” Rocket cried out after his bubble-wrap like suit retracted, but he was too far away for Groot to hear. A large coastal city loomed below. “Dammit – Groot!” Rocket shouted. His jetpack kept him at a stable speed, but if he tried to force it to help him fly, it sputtered and threatened to fail. Rocket was so fixed on Groot’s position that he was ill-prepared to land on a terrace of one of the tallest buildings and tumble into the penthouse. He lay on the floor catching his breath and then let out a string of curse words. Rocket stood up and pulled the jetpack off so he could examine it. “No. No.” There was a small scorch mark at the base. He opened a hatch and examined the wiring. “Shit.” He felt eyes on him and tensed. He raised his gaze and saw a man sipping coffee watching Rocket quietly from a few yards away. “Totally didn’t see anything,” Tony Stark said. “Totally didn’t hear anything either.” He kept his distance and did not take his eyes from Rocket. Both grew quiet, assessing the other. Tony was so calm that Rocket could believe Quill’s stories about these raccoon things being on Earth that looked like him. “Anyway, where do people go to get mechanical parts around here?” Rocket gestured towards the direction he came from. “I’ve got a friend to go pick up and I can’t do it with this thing busted.” “Who’s your friend?” Tony asked. He finished off his coffee. “None of your business,” Rocket said. “I just need some wires and probably a propulsion cord. Tubing too.” Normally all these things would be ripe for the taking at the nearest spaceport, but Rocket knew they were too far out in the boonies of the galaxy for such a thing. Tony set his mug down. “It’s my business,” he said. “I know there’s an invasion coming. I know raccoons don’t talk or fall out of the sky. So I need to know who your friend is so I can protect this city, this planet from whatever’s coming.” Rocket realized the only thing keeping this situation from deteriorating was the fact he had not presented a credible threat to this person yet. He could also tell that Tony’s patience was thin. Rocket looked around the room at his options and paused. They were in a penthouse full of comfortable furniture and decorations that belied the owner was artistic and mechanical and probably out his nose rich. Rocket set his jetpack down and showed Tony his palms. “I think I’ve been too hasty. My friend is a small talking tree about this tall. If I don’t find him soon, who knows what will happen to him.” “A small talking tree?” Tony asked. “Yeah. His name’s Groot,” Rocket said. “He’s not even a sapling. He went down somewhere over there.” Rocket gestured off towards Queens. “We’ve got to get back together and find this…uh…” he tried to remember what Peter said before everyone left the ship, “San Ark.” “San Ark?” Tony asked. “Yeah, I don’t know what it is either,” Rocket said. “Anyway, like I said, I need some parts to fix this thing so I can go find him.” Tony was quiet a long moment, thinking things over. “Okay. Come with me. I know where there are some parts.” He started off towards the elevator. Rocket followed. He figured if it was a trap, he could get out of it. Gamora, meanwhile, lost sight of the others early on. She fell through the atmosphere and waited. If she engaged the jetpack too early it would not work. She could see airplanes below and no sign of any spacecraft other than what they saw from orbit. She went into a bank of clouds and still waited. When she emerged, she could see taiga stretching out in front of her with few signs of settlement. Gamora retracted her bubble wrap-like suit and engaged her jetpack, using it to guide her into a landing spot, avoiding the fir trees. Gamora landed in a pile of slush. Everything was melting from warmer late spring temperatures. She sighed and looked around. Like so much about Earth, she was in the middle of nowhere. It was too cloudy to find the sun. She took out a small device from her pocket that was made to find certain types of magnetism for navigating any habitable planet. She held it up and let it calibrate, using the reflection on the device to see behind her. She took a deep breath. What was it that Quill said aliens always said in movies? “I come in peace,” Gamora said. Her device beeped to let her know it had calibrated to Earth’s magnetic force. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Sam Wilson replied where he stood not far away, one hand on a gun near his thigh, “since the last few have not.” Gamora showed him her hands, though she was ready to defend if need be, and turned slowly to face him. She could tell he was a soldier and highly intelligent. Before either could speak again, there was a streak through the sky. The damaged Chitauri sentinel crashed into the trees not far away. “Not one of those bastards again,” Sam murmured. “You’ve fought them before?” Gamora asked. “Yeah,” Sam said, keeping details light. He drew his gun. Gamora drew her own space gun. It was small and discreet and ran on its own self-charging system. They retreated into denser taiga and waited. The Chitauri moved silently. There were two of them carrying medium sized particle weapons. The Chitauri shot first, singing the trees. Sam and Gamora moved to other cover. Gamora returned fire when she could. Sam fired one shot, choosing to conserve his bullets and lead the action towards the mouth of the forest. Gamora drew closer to one of the Chitauri once she saw the riverbank and led them out into the open. Once they were on the ample, rocky riverbank, she drew her sword and charged. The Chitauri switched weapons to a three pronged blade that pulsed with electricity. They clashed, each try to avoid death. The rocks were flat and wide farther away from the river, leading to good footing for both. They twisted and turned, trying to cement the high ground and avoid the smaller rocks. Out in the open, Sam lacked cover. He did not have his wings either. However, he knew the terrain and he knew his skills. He returned fire, injuring the Chitauri. Sam used the pause in action to charge forward and tackle the Chitauri to the ground. He could heard the other Chitauri die. Thick blood oozed from the Chitauri under Sam. The Chitauri stopped struggling and reached for a button on the side of his armor. “Get away!” Gamora shouted at Sam, who was already rolling away from the Chitauri. When the Chitauri pressed the button he exploded, spewing guts, blood, and skin across the riverbank, Sam, and Gamora. Two seconds later there was a massive explosion in the direction of the Chitauri ship causing the ground to shake in such a way that Gamora almost lost her footing. Fire shot into the sky, lighting the forest around it on fire like a giant flare. The bears down river made alarmed noises, calling to each other to evacuate. Other animals began running in any direction leading away from the fire. Sam scrambled to his feet. Gamora joined him and they ran downstream away from the fire. They came to a place in which rocks stuck out at short enough intervals they could cross the river. The fire continued to spread. Gamora looked over her shoulder once she crossed the river at the destruction consuming the taiga. She turned away and continued following Sam. Back in New York, Groot remained motionless on the roof of someone’s front porch. He fell three hours ago and he was not sure what to do. He lost track of everyone after he pressed the button. He heard someone approach the house and peered in their direction. Peter Parker entered the front yard and rubbed his face. He had his backpack slung over a shoulder and looked wiped out from school. He ran a hand through his hair and paused. Then he looked directly at Groot. Groot held his breath and remained perfectly still. He was definitely just a bit of drift wood on this roof. He was one with other branches that fell during the rain last night. He relaxed when Parker entered the house. Groot was not sure if he should stay on the roof or not. He meant to leave sooner but some neighbors came out of their houses to hang flags and others kept coming and going as if everyone was preparing for an upcoming party. Groot hoped he would not have to lie low until night. Certainly the others were looking for him. The window near Groot’s head opened. Parker leaned out and touched Groot carefully. Groot held his breath. “Hey,” Parker said. “I can hear you breathing.” He held out a long stem of broccoli. “Are you hungry?” Groot looked at the broccoli. He’d never seen such a plant before. “I am Groot,” he said quietly. Parker blinked. “What?” he asked. “I am Groot,” Groot repeated a little louder this time. Parker nodded slowly. “Well, uh…if you need water, I can get you water.” He put the broccoli in his mouth and ate it. “Want to come inside?” “I am Groot,” Groot said. He reached out to Parker. Parker picked him up, unsure of how to hold Groot at first. “I’m Peter, by the way,” Peter said. He juggled Groot in one arm and shut his window with his other hand. “As long as Aunt May doesn’t see you, you can stay here as long as you want.” “I am Groot?” Groot asked. “She’s uh…my dad’s sister-in-law,” Parker said. “I’ve lived with her since I was little.” He carried Groot down the hall and into the bathroom. He set Groot down on the linoleum and made sure the small tub was clean. Groot looked around the bathroom. He saw a cockroach in the corner and slowly crept over to it. He caught it in his branches and bit down on its hard exterior. “I am Groot,” he murmured in disgust and cast the cockroach aside. The cockroach ran into a nearby vent as fast as possible. “I don’t think you should eat that,” Parker said. He started the water running. “What kind of temperature do you like?” “I am Groot,” Groot said. Parker nodded and adjusted it so it was ever so slightly warm. “Try that,” he said. Groot reached out and touched the water. “I am Groot!” he said and excitedly got into the tub. “Okay,” Parker said. “Now, watch this.” Parker engaged the shower. Groot’s eyes lit up when the shower rained down on him. He rushed to the far end of the tub to get the brunt of the blast and then danced about, taking in the water. There was a large curtain pulled across most of the tub. Peter watched him from the far end where the water wasn’t in danger of soaking the bathroom. Groot looked at Parker and then remembered to say, “I am Groot.” “You’re welcome,” Parker said. “I AM GROOT!” Groot shrieked when the water abruptly became ice cold. He ran away from the brunt of the spray and got out of the tub. “Ah! Hold it!” Peter said. He shut the water off and grabbed a big towel. Groot tried to evade the towel and ran out into the hallway, leaving a small trail of water in his wake. “Groot, you can’t get everything wet!” “I am Groot!” “You’re on carpet! Air drying doesn’t count!” Parker eventually dropped the towel over Groot as gently as possible. Groot stopped running once he was under the warm fluff. Groot dried himself off and peeked out at Parker. He watched Parker wiping up the puddles Groot left on the carpet and bathroom floor. Groot draped his towel tent over his head like a hooded cape and sat on the floor. The door downstairs closed. “I’m home!” Aunt May called out. “Shit,” Parker murmured. “Hey, go to my room and hide, okay?” he said quietly to Groot. “I can’t let Aunt May see you.” Groot looked at the staircase and then he looked at Parker’s room. “Groot,” Parker hissed. “Are you okay?” Aunt May asked from the foot of the stairs. “Yeah,” Parker called out. He headed down the stairs. Groot got up and dragged his towel cocoon into Parker’s room. He settled down onto a small child-sized chair Parker kept in a corner despite being too big for it now and fell fast asleep. Mantis did not worry when she saw the others disappear. They all had to find Louis Arch. She did not think Quill would pick a place too hard to find to meet back up at since he grew up on this planet. She was west of Gamora and none of the terrain was ideal to land. She finally settled down on the rocky shore downstream of Gamora and on the other side of the river. There were bears upstream. Mantis approached the river and knelt down, sticking her fingers into the cold river. Instantly she withdrew them, wiping them off on her jacket. “Too cold,” she murmured, accustomed to talking to herself when alone to cope with Ego leaving her alone for long stretches of time. Mantis’ antennae stretched. She could feel eyes on her. She turned around and saw a young woman watching her. “Hello,” Mantis said. “I am Mantis with the Guardians of the Galaxy. We’ve come to save Earth.” Wanda Maximoff did not immediately say anything. She looked at Mantis as if she was not sure it would be rude to stare at Mantis’ antennae too long. “I do not know who or what that is,” Wanda said carefully, still assessing if Mantis was friend or foe. “We are a group that helps anyone who needs help,” Mantis said. She paused. “Unless they’re Thanos.” She kept her gaze on Wanda. She did not know why but there was something about Wanda that seemed familiar, almost like Mantis herself. Mantis knew that this feeling made no sense since she and Wanda did not look alike, but she could not shake the feeling either. Wanda took one step forward. “You feel things, yes?” She did not look away from Mantis either. “Yes,” Mantis said. “I feel…everything.” She also took a step forward. Her fingers she dipped in the river stung in the cold air. “I don’t touch people who don’t allow it,” Mantis added. Wanda brought her hand up, but kept it close to her body, hesitating. Mantis reached out, her palm open, ready to take Wand’s hand if Wanda consented. “What is going on?” Steve Rogers asked as he emerged from the fir trees. He was dressed in earth tones and for the climate like Wanda. Wanda took a deep breath and then let her hand rest at her side. Mantis lowered her hand as well and curled her fingers to access the warmth from the sleeve of her jacket. “I have it under control,” Wanda said. “This is Mantis. She says she is a Guardian of the Galaxy.” Steve looked at Mantis. “What are you doing on Earth?” he asked. He looked at ease, but his stance was also tense as though he was ready to defend them if Mantis attacked. “We’re –” Mantis said but stopped speaking as the three of them watched the injured Chitauri ship fly across the sky and disappear out of view. “They attacked us,” Mantis said. “Our ship sent us into your atmosphere and we got separated.” “Why would they attack you?” Steve asked, his eyes trained on where the craft disappeared from view. “We’re here to stop Thanos,” Mantis said. “They work for him.” “We’ve fought them before,” Steve said. He frowned deeply. “Wanda, I’m going to help Sam. Take Mantis to that place. If things start to go south, take the truck and head northwest.” Wanda nodded. She motioned for Mantis to follow her. Steve ran in the direction of the ship. It would take him into the woods before Gamora and Sam could emerge from the woods. Mantis followed Wanda along the riverbank. Wanda handed Mantis a pair of gloves. “You do not want to get frostbite,” she said. “Wear these.” “What is frost bite?” Mantis asked, who was used to Ego’s utopia and the safety of spaceships. “It is when the skin rots,” Wanda said. Mantis pulled on the gloves. They were very warm. They moved quickly as they could through across the taiga only stopping when an explosion echoed from far away. Wanda hesitated, looking back at where Sam and Steve were. Then she shook her head. “We must hurry,” she said and picked up the pace. Not long after animals began to run in the same direction and the smell of the forest burning filled the air. When they arrived at an abandoned fishing cabin, Wanda and Mantis got in the truck. It was outfitted for the terrain and snow. Wanda started it up and the pair headed to the road. They headed North West and soon they ran into Steve, Sam, and Gamora, who got in the back of the truck. Wanda continued driving through the haze caused by the fire, heading steadily towards the tundra. Drax ended up getting carried away to the north farther than any of the others. He ditched his protective suit as soon as he could and used his jetpack to avoid landing in the ocean and finally bringing it down along the eastern most coastline of a series of fjords. It was cold and there was snow flurries in the air. His shoreline was just the bottom of a cliff surrounded by other cliffs and glaciers. He heard noise nearby and looked towards ocean. Two men in a sophisticated boat came in as close to shore as they dared and idled. Thor stood up and raised a hand in greeting. “We saw you fall from orbit. What is your business here?” “I have no business,” Drax said. “I’m not getting paid.” “Right,” Thor murmured. “Do you think he’s one of Thanos’ men?” Bruce Banner asked quietly, though his voice carried across the water. Both Thor and Bruce wore long and thick dark cloaks to protect them from the weather. Thor shook his head. “I think he is one of those we heard about,” he told Bruce. Then he asked Drax in a louder voice, “Are you the one who held the Power Stone and survived?” “I did not hold the stone, I held my friends’ hands,” Drax said. He paused. “That is why I survived.” “So he’s one of them?” Bruce asked Thor. “It appears so,” Thor said to Bruce, “which means we are very fortunate.” He addressed Drax again, “We are two of the Avengers. We can ferry you wherever you must go. It is likely your comrades will meet where ours will.” “At the ark?” Drax asked. Maybe this ark Quill wanted them to meet at was some kind of port on Earth. “No,” Thor said. “On the battlefield against Thanos.” He extended a gang plank from the boat towards Drax so that Drax would not have to step into the frigid ocean. Drax stepped onto the plank and then onto the ship. He settled down onto one of two seats Thor and Bruce were not using. “I did not know Earth had such technology,” he said. “We don’t,” Bruce said. He looked around the boat for a compartment that might store clothes. “We might have an extra cloak if you want one.” “No,” Drax said, “my nipples are too sensitive. I can do without.” “If we are ready, let us be off,” Thor said. “Once the wind is warmer, we will be able to contact our allies.” Once they were all settled onto the boat, he pushed some buttons and they shot off across the water at tremendous speed. “Temple of the King” by Rainbow played in Quill’s earbuds as he assessed the large mass in front of him. It swallowed up part of the town he was raised in and now the buildings were abandoned. He found it when walking through the forest away from the crash site. No one needed to tell him that the large magma-like monolith was a remnant of Ego’s failed plan. He also had a feeling the attack originated from somewhere near the Dairy Queen his mother took him to whenever she had the funds. He took in a deep breath. He still had his wallet from Earth along with $15.00 in bills and probably another $3.03 in coins. It was leftover birthday money. Peter sighed deeply. The town’s graveyard was likely swallowed up since it wasn’t too far away on the other side of the Dairy Queen. Quill opened his mouth and then closed it. He turned away and began walking out of town. Some of the shops were the same but most changed. He was not sure what a Starbucks was but it was where the comic book store was when he was little. The route to a nearby state road was the same and soon Peter was walking towards Saint Louis. “Mr. Big Stuff,” by Jean Knight came on Quill’s Zune next. He let the beat get into his step as he continued along the shoulder. He tried to hail a big rig that passed, but the driver did not stop. Even though it had been over two decades since he last traveled to Saint Louis, Peter knew the route well. He went back and forth his entire life with his mom while she tried to treat her cancer. He regretted naming the arch as their rendezvous point, but it was the first iconic landmark he could think of while trying not to die. The sun was starting to think about setting when a car slowed down beside Quill and he paused his music. The car window rolled down with a comfortable hum instead of a squeak from a crank. A man older than Quill sat in the passenger seat and a red haired woman drove. “Hey,” Clint Barton said. “Looks like you could use a lift.” “Going to Saint Louis?” Quill asked. He pulled the earbuds out of his ears. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Natasha Romanoff said in a half-deadpan that Quill could not tell was sincere or a hint that her response was a joke. He could, however, tell she was probably Russian. It made him remember the Cold War for the first time in decades. He wondered if it was still happening. “Get in,” Clint said. “Always room for one more.” Quill got in the back of their car and settled into the seat behind Clint, putting his bag in the middle seat. The car was cushier than the last car he rode in. It was also more technologically advanced with dual climate control and actual built in cup holders for passengers in the front and the back instead of little plastic ones that got wedged into the space between the car window and the door interior. “This is…really nice,” Quill said. He wondered if it was a high end model or maybe a cheap model. If this was a cheap or older car, he could not imagine what some high end new car must be like now. “Thanks,” Natasha said. After a bit of silence, Clint asked, “So, what brings you to Missouri?” Clint sounded like he came from the next state or so over and it put Quill at ease. Quill leaned back in his seat, surprised at how much leg room he had in the back even if it was still cramped. “Business,” Quill said. “What about you?” “Yeah, we’ve got business here too,” Clint said. He seemed to consider his words and then asked, “Did you see that big thing in the sky a few hours ago? I keep telling Tasha that it was a UFO, but she won’t believe me.” “They aren’t real,” Natasha said. “It was a meteor.” “Meteors aren’t that big,” Clint said. “It also had passengers.” “Cast off,” Natasha said. “Meteors break up in the atmosphere.” Quill did not know what to say at first. He was prepared for people to be afraid of the other Guardians. He was not prepared to explain his ship, which now that he thought about it, was kind of a stupid detail to overlook. He held up his hands. “I saw it. Trust me, definitely saw it. Big hunt of rock spewing little rocks everywhere. Pretty sure it was a meteor.” He paused. “Or is it a meteorite? One falls to Earth the other is on Earth…” “That doesn’t explain why you were in a town that hasn’t been inhabited in three years,” Clint said deceptively casually. Quill froze. “Shit.” Natasha had been slowly increasing her speed to the point the car was now too fast for Quill to easily escape. Quill licked his lips and considered his options. “The people after you are also after us,” Clint said. “We can help, but you have to tell us who you and why you’re here.” “And if I don’t?” Quill asked. “Then we’ll leave you where SHIELD can find you,” Clint said. “SHIELD’s just a rumor,” Quill said without thinking. “So you have been off world a while then,” Natasha said. “SHIELD is very real and they are already picking apart your spacecraft as we speak.” Clint nodded. “Why did you come here? Who are you?” he asked. Quill weighed his options. The state route did seem unusually desolate. He also knew that the Guardians alone would like be unable to stop Thanos by themselves. “I’m Star Lord. There’s this intergalactic evil guy called Thanos coming to collect stuff hidden away on Earth. As a Guardian of the Galaxy, it’s my job to make sure he doesn’t get it.” “‘Stuff?’” Clint asked. “What stuff?” “Space stuff,” Quill said. “Top secret space stuff.” “Is your name really Star Lord?” Natasha asked. “Yeah,” Quill said. “It’s a name known throughout the galaxy.” Clint gave him a dubious look. Natasha looked mildly amused. Maybe. Quill could not read her yet, but something about her reminded him of Gamora and Nebula. “You can also call me Peter,” Quill said. “Who are you?” “Avengers,” Natasha said and left it at that. A siren caught Quill’s attention and he looked out the rear window. There was a sheriff car zooming towards them. “We must be out of that zone now,” Clint said. “I hope you’re buckled in, boys,” Natasha said. “We’re going to lose him. She pushed the car to its limits and cut across a field to another state highway that would lead to an interstate. Traffic increased and she began to weave her way to the nearest exit. “We’re going to leave the car in the open and use the darkness to our advantage,” she said for Quill’s benefit. They entered a town of over 5,000 people at a normal speed and continued along the state route until they reached a sad looking gas station near the interstate. They abandoned the car in the parking lot and went into nearby woods, working their way south parallel to the interstate. They crossed a road and continued until they reached a neighborhood. The houses were modest, some better kept than others. Quill stopped and looked at the houses around them. It reminded him of the neighborhood his grandfather lived in except with more disrepair and age. He swallowed down his feelings and followed Natasha and Clint as if the three of them were out for a totally normal walk. Quill was not sure what Avengers were, but it sounded like the kind of help he needed. He decided to stick with Clint and Natasha for now. They found their way to a boat showroom. There was a pickup truck in the parking lot and no sign of anyone in the store. It did not take long for them to get the truck started and start heading south on the interstate. They were going away from St. Louis now with Clint driving. “What are the Guardians of the Galaxy?” Natasha asked. She sat between Clint and Quill. “What are the Avengers?” Quill asked. “Seems polite you tell me about yourself first.” “The Avengers are a group of skilled individuals who protect the earth,” Natasha said. She opened the glove compartment and found an unopened bag of chips. Neither Clint nor Quill objected when she opened them and began rationing them out to the three of them. Quill made a weird face when he tasted the BBQ flavor. “This is…weird.” He knew how BBQ chips should taste but this was not it. “Not a bad weird.” “I believe it’s your turn,” Natasha said and gave Quill another chip. “It’s polite.” Quill snorted a little. “The Guardians of the Galaxy are like the Avengers, but in space. We get hired to do stuff like protect batteries or if a big threat comes up like Ronan, we kick his ass.” “Ronan?” Clint asked. “Yeah, the Destroyer,” Quill said. He was working for Thanos, but we managed to defeat him.” By the skin of their teeth and the seat of their pants. Even knowing he was part Celestial now, Quill did not know how he survived the Power Stone. “We’ve heard things about Thanos,” Natasha said, “mostly whispers.” She passed the third to last chip to Clint and passed the next to last chip to Quill before taking the final chip for herself. Quill turned the chip over in his hands. He was running out of time and had to take the chance that Clint and Natasha could help him. Where else could he go? He took a deep breath and began to explain what he knew about Thanos and what the Guardians were on Earth to do. A large ball of fire and particle beam shot up into the sky far enough away that Dax, Bruce, and Thor could not see the source. It was a fireball tall enough that it likely could be seen from space. Bruce cleared his throat “Well, that…’s festive.” “Is it a custom?” Drax asked. It made him think of the bonfires his people danced around except bigger and more annoying. “No,” Bruce said. “I’m not sure what that was.” They could see very, very faint smoke as though the fireball had been taller than wide and whatever caught on fire might be even farther away than it first appeared. “We are in range to communicate,” Thor said. “The others might be aware of what the cause is.” He removed a communication device from his belt. It looked Asgardian in design. He pressed some buttons and waited. The set of three beeps caught Rocket’s attention immediately. His jetpack fixing adventure led to him needing to rebuild the entire interior of the pack if he wanted it to work. Tony’s technology was not primitive, but Rocket did know several places across the galaxy he probably could get better equipment in some regards. If this was the height of terran technology, Rocket did not want to think about what he would be up against if he landed somewhere less populated. Whatever was beeping kept beeping. Rocket looked at Tony who was working quietly in a corner on his own project. Rocket could not tell if Tony was purposefully ignoring the beeping or could not hear it over the music playing from the speakers. It was similar music to the stuff Quill played but a little louder and a little angrier. Rocket liked it. “Mr. Stark, there is a communication from There Can Only Be One,” FRIDAY said. Tony paused the song, went over to a nearby desk, and retrieved a communication device that looked like alien tech Rocket saw before that definitely was not terran. He pressed a button. “Tony Stark.” “Greetings,” Thor said. “Forgive my lack of communication. There has been too many developments.” “If you mean aliens dropping from the sky once a week around the world and a talking raccoon in my workroom, yeah, lots happening,” Tony said. He moved over to where he was working. “Hey,” Rocket said as if he was telling Quill to watch it with the raccoon talk. “So there are other talking raccoons? Quill said that they did not talk here,” Drax said. Rocket rolled his eyes. He bounded over to Tony’s workspace and said loud enough for the others to hear, “It’s me, you dumbass.” “I’m here too,” Bruce said muffled in the background. Tony’s face softened at Bruce’s voice a little. He let out a small breath. “Been a while,” Tony said. “Glad you’re safe.” There was a small pause and then Thor said, “We must assemble together at the tower. There is much to discuss. It is also important that we find the rest of the Guardians of the Galaxy. They will be indispensable in the upcoming battle.” “About that…” Tony said. “Stuff happened. Fighting on the tarmac is a meme now. Half the team are fugitives on the run. Rhodey is a bionic man. We’ve not assembled in over a year.” There was silence on the other end of the line. Rocket studied Tony’s face, trying not to be obvious about it. Tony looked off at the bar he no longer stocked. “We cannot fight ourselves right now. Not just Midgard but Asgard and possibly the universe needs us to stop Thanos before he can obtain what he seeks,” Thor said. “I –” Tony stopped himself. “Look. We already fought. Everyone lost.” “How about,” Bruce said and his voice became clearer as though he took the communication device from Thor, “we come to the tower, you get whoever you want to come too, and we talk about how to handle this? You can tell us what happened and we can figure out how screwed we are.” Tony was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah. I’ll make some calls. Get who I can here.” “We will arrive in…” Bruce’s voice trailed. “About one and half sjømil,” Thor said, a little muffled. “Yeah,” Bruce said. “We’re in a boat. We’ll be there in an hour or two? I think we might be warping space time around us.” “We are following the river,” Thor said. “We’ll see you soon,” Bruce said. When the transmission ended, Tony let out a slow, low breath. “I told them this was going to happen,” he said. “Nobody listened.” Rocket frowned. “Well, it’s happening. Now what?” He was not sure what ‘it’ meant Thanos specifically, aliens in general, or whatever the fight was about. “Don’t you have some sort of guardians to gather or something?” Tony asked. He was already queuing up contact info of those to notify. “We’re all going to meet at the San Ark. Can’t be too hard to find,” Rocket said. “Drax and I can just bring you guys with us.” Rocket would use a communicator to talk to the others but he did not have one on him. He had not anticipated someone using the emergency exit button. Tony looked dubious, like Rocket was talking about something alien. It made Rocket wonder if in the thirty some years Quill had been off world that this San Ark thing stopped existing. “Besides, I’ve got to go get Groot once this is fixed,” Rocket said. He returned to his jetpack. “How hard is it going to be finding a little tree in this place?” He knew how hard, but that was also why he needed to fix the jetpack. He needed to be able to outrun anyone who had problems with a talking raccoon and sentient toddler tree. Rocket hoped nothing too weird was happening with Groot. The first hour of riding in the back of the pickup was silent. Sam sat in the corner behind the driver’s seat and Gamora sat in the corner behind the passenger’s seat. Steve sat beside Sam. Gamora had a communicator but she kept it off for now. The middle window in the back of the cab was open so they could communicate with Wanda and Mantis once they were in a position talking would not disturb Wanda’s driving. The taiga was rough, but the truck was equipped for off-roading. After a while, they came to a gravel-road. “Should I?” Wanda asked. “Yeah,” Steve said quietly. The fire was behind them and still burned. The gravel was easier to travel than the taiga. After a few minutes, Mantis said, “It’s very quiet. Our friend always plays music when we travel.” “So the two of you work together?” Steve asked, his eyes moving from Mantis to Gamora and back. “Yes,” Mantis said. She turned her head to look back at Sam and Steve. “He loves music. His soul is full of music.” “Thanos’ soul is full of music?” Sam asked as if he officially had heard everything now. “No,” Mantis said. “Peter Quill’s soul is full of music. We’re here to stop Thanos. He’s not our friend.” “We’ve been tracking Thanos down for the last year,” Gamora said. “He’s after powerful weapons that are so powerful they require more than one being to use in most cases. He is so strong, he can use at least one if not more without assistance.” She took a breath. “As far as we know, he doesn’t posses any of them, but there are two on Terra and possibly two more that can be accessed from Terra.” Steve’s lips drew into an increasingly thin line as Gamora spoke. “How many of you are there?” “Six,” Gamora said. “When our ship was in orbit we were attacked by the Chitauri that followed us into your forest. If you know who Thanos is, you know what kind of threat will come, and he will come soon.” Steve looked down in thought and Sam kept his eyes on Gamora. Steve’s gaze swept over them from Sam to Wanda to Mantis and finally to Gamora. “What can we do to stop him? How can we help?” Gamora knew they would need any ally they could get. She began to explain the situation, keeping some details to herself for now. Groot woke up from his nap alone in Parker’s room. The sun was low in the sky and the room was very dim. Groot emerged from the towel and looked at a small post-it note on the arm of the small chair. He could not read English, though he saw Quill write in it from time to time. Groot sniffed the post-it and made a weird face before sticking it back onto the arm of the chair where he found it. He climbed up onto the window sill and let what sunlight could reach him touch him. It was nice. It was also really, really quiet. Groot remembered not to let Aunt May see him, whatever an Aunt May was. Parker said it was a father’s sister-in-law, but that explained nothing. Groot got down from the window sill and quietly went to the door. He peeked out into the hallway. There were no lights on upstairs, but there was a nightlight in the hallway. There were lights downstairs and he could hear the TV playing. Groot crept closer to the stairs, pausing every so often to stand perfectly still. It was a good camouflage tactic used on his home planet. The music from the TV drew Groot closer. The course said, “Tell me more. Tell me more,” but Groot did not need direct prompting. He settled onto one of the steps and peered through the balusters. A woman folded clothes while watching the TV where a group of adults pretending to be teenagers danced around a school ground singing about summer love. It was very colorful and very catchy. Groot let his legs dangle over the edge of the step. May Parker placed the folded laundry meant to go upstairs back into the basket. She left the television on and headed for the stairs. Groot was too engrossed in the continuing movie to realize he should move until he heard a very loud shout. “No! I will not have rats in my house!” May said. She kicked out at Groot who slipped between the balusters only to fall to the floor. May set her laundry down on a step and charged down to grab a broom. Groot got up and looked around. He ran under the sofa, but he was too big to fit. He tried under a chair, but again, he was just one size too big. He finally laid down under the coffee table and remained completely still. May approached and moved to stick the broom under the coffee table to help herd the presumed rat towards the door before she froze and blinked. “What…?” She took a step back and studied Groot. “You’re not a rat.” After a long moment of silence, Groot said, “I am Groot.” “I’m May Parker,” May said. Groot suddenly yelped and rolled out from under the coffee table. “I am Groot!” he exclaimed and prepared to run off. This was the Aunt May Parker told him to avoid probably. “Wait!” May said. “Wait. You’re not in trouble.” “I am Groot?” Groot asked. “Is that all you can say?” May asked. “I am Groot,” Groot said. He did not understand how Parker could understand him but May could not. “Well, ah…do you know Peter?” May asked. “I am Groot,” Groot said and nodded for emphasis. “I see,” May said. “He’s at a party right now. How about we call him?” she asked. Groot nodded. May took out her cellphone. Groot looked over his shoulder at the TV just as the song ended. His eyes sparkled a little and he settled down on the carpet to sit and watch. Movies were truly wonderful. He figured it would not hurt anything to keep watching the movie while May talked to Peter. Traveling northwest worked until the snow began to fall. While the truck was equipped for difficult weather and rough terrain, it was not wise to press their luck. They returned to the gravel road until they pulled off to take a break and change drivers. Wanda led Mantis to a water source in sight of the truck. It looked clear and flowed. Wanda knelt down and began to refill her canteens. “I will let you have one of these,” she said. “It’s not good to travel without water.” Mantis knelt beside Wanda and watched. “Is the god who controls your weather angry with you?” she asked. “What?” Wanda asked. “Sometimes planets are gods or controlled by gods,” Mantis said. “When mine was upset, he would make every day dark and cold.” She took the canteen carefully from Wanda once it was full. “What did you do about it?” Wanda asked. She filled the second canteen. “There was nothing I could do until the very end,” Mantis said. “I was brought there to help, not hurt.” She unscrewed the cap of the canteen and then screwed it back on, examining the design. “I did not want to think about it until I had to think about it.” Wanda screwed the cap onto her canteen and observed Mantis. “Did no one else think it was wrong?” “There was only Ego and me,” Mantis said. “Until my friends came, then we destroyed Ego and began hunting Thanos.” They lapsed into silence. Wanda stood up and then Mantis stood. Mantis did not take her eyes off Wanda. “May I touch your hand?” “What?” Wanda asked. “I want to know what you’re feeling,” Mantis said. “When I touch beings I can feel their emotions, all of them. I can also manipulate their moods. Ego used that in me to help him sleep.” “I feel worried,” Wanda said. She tied her canteen back to her belt. “Something is coming. It won’t end well.” Mantis nodded. She tied her canteen to her own belt since that was where canteens seemed to go. “I am worried too,” she said. Since Wanda did not agree to anything, Mantis put her hands in her pockets. Mantis looked over at Gamora who was trying to reach Quill on her communicator. “Gamora is strong,” Mantis said. “When she’s with me I feel like I can be strong too.” Wanda followed Mantis’ gaze. “We are also strong,” she said. “Hopefully strong enough.” They walked over to Gamora who was working on establishing contact with Quill. “Finally,” Quill said. In the background they could hear a radio commercial for a Back to the 80’s concert transitioned into “Rocket Man” by Elton John. “Where are you? Are you okay?” Mantis, Wanda, Sam, and Steve gathered around Gamora. “We’re fine,” Gamora said. “Mantis is with me. It’s snowing and there’s a lot of trees and bodies of water.” “How far north are you?” Quill asked after a pause. “How would I know?” Gamora asked genuinely. She did not know how she would know if she had never been to Earth before and did not know where Quill even was right now. “Peter, the Chitauri ship followed us. It sent some kind of signal to Thanos. I think we’ve got anywhere between three hours and three weeks before Thanos arrives. “Three’s more,” Gamora continued. “We met up with three people, one of whom can outrun a forest fire without getting winded or breaking a sweat.” “Is his name Steve?” Clint asked, voice muffled from behind on the opposite side of the truck from Quill. “It’s me,” Steve answered, speaking loud enough for Clint to hear but not so loud his voice would carry past the clearing. “From what I can tell, Gamora and Mantis are serious about stopping Thanos. They seem like,” a pause, “people we can work with.” “Quill seems that way to us too,” Clint said. “What we need to do is come up with a strategy,” Sam said. “Sounds like Thanos has been strategizing for a long time now. He probably already knows what he’s going to do after that big fireball appeared.” “I agree,” Gamora said. “We at least should assess where we are and if we can get together to talk about what we should do. We’ll need as many allies as we can get. Thanos has many armies at his disposal.” They began solidifying their plans. Gamora and Mantis’ group were about two to three days travel from where Quill’s group was. They decided to use Memorial Day weekend to their advantage and meet towards sunset to ensure most people would not be paying attention to them. When the conversation ended, Gamora checked to see if she could get in touch with Drax, Rocket, or Groot. None of them responded. She sighed and put her communicator away. The group got back into their truck, this time with Steve driving, and started back towards the gravel road that cut through the taiga. The first person to arrive at Tony’s place was James Rhodes, followed soon after by Vision. After an insanely long conversation with a go-between, Tony got T’Challa to agree to a video conference. Tony sighed. “Two more to go,” he said more to himself than anyone else. “Is there a reason there’s a talking raccoon making a jetpack?” Rhodey asked quietly so Rocket could not hear, but Rocket could hear. “Repairing a jetpack,” Tony clarified. “Same thing,” Rhodey said. “He fell from the sky. He’ll go find a talking tree once he’s done,” Tony said. “Of course he will,” Rhodey said. He accepted the glass of water Tony poured for him. “I am Vision,” Vision greeted Rocket. “Are you from Earth?” “No,” Rocket said. He was almost done with his repairs. He still had not decided if he should stick around to see what the people coming had to say or try to find Groot immediately. He knew that if he waited for dark, he might have a higher chance of running into fewer problems, but he also did not like that Groot had been out there somewhere alone for such a long time. He looked up at Vision then blinked. “So you really do wear that thing on your forehead?” Rocket heard the rumors some idiot was running around with an Infinity Stone out in plain sight. He did not expect this. “It’s embedded,” Vision said. “Without it, I would cease to exist.” “That’s…” Rocket’s voice trailed. “So, you’ll be the center of the action then.” “Mr. Stark,” FRIDAY said, “Dr. Banner, Thor, and an unidentifiable have arrived.” “Good. Send them up,” Tony said. Rocket did not have to be told that Thor was an Odinson. Asgard was legendary even in Rocket’s part of the galaxy, not only for its wealth and strength, but also the fact it was exceedingly hard to enter unless through specific routes. Bruce Banner, however, looked completely unremarkable even though he also wore clothes befitting of the more well-known worlds connected by Yggdrasil. “Friends,” Thor greeted Tony, Rhodey, and Vision, “and…new friend,” he greeted Rocket. “Hey,” Rocket replied. “New haircut?” Tony asked. “Yes,” Thor said. “I reunited with Banner in the gladiatorial pit. We won many battles. Unfortunately short hair is a requirement.” “Gladiators? Isn’t that more of a Roman thing?” Tony asked. “Sakaar is not one of the realms,” Thor said, “but we were able to return to the realms.” “We fought in the Ragnarök,” Bruce said quietly. “It didn’t go according to the prophecy.” Drax approached Rocket as Thor and Bruce gave Tony, Rhodey, and Vision the details. “Where are the others?” he asked. “I imagined the ark would have more animals in it than you and the humans.” “This isn’t our meeting place,” Rocket said. “I’m still not sure where San Ark is anyway.” He flipped a switch and his jetpack whooshed quietly. He turned it off. He could retrieve Groot when he was ready. “I wonder if it still exists,” Drax said. “Quill said he has not been here since he was a boy. If someone travels the stars and returns, he is always younger.” “We’ll figure something out,” Rocket said. “I know we have to,” Tony said loud enough that Drax and Rocket looked at the humans, android, and demigod in the room. Tony took a deep breath. “Look, just…I can fight on the same battlefield. I’m not going to run away from this, but I’d rather not talk to him. I don’t have to talk to him to fight with him. Whatever this battle is going to be it’ll be bigger than both of us anyway.” “We could discuss a truce,” Thor suggested, “and then toast to putting this aside and figh –” “You weren’t there. You don’t know,” Tony said in a tense, quiet whisper. Bruce held up his hands. “How about we just…use Thor as a go between? Thor probably gave Steve a communicator too. You two won’t even have to sneeze at each other. No drinks necessary. The truce is already unspoken, no one wants to fight each other while we fight a galactic super power. Have you contacted Natasha yet? She’s probably in the middle of this already.” “I was about to contact her,” Tony said. He sighed and rubbed his face. “King T’Challa is on standby, sir,” FRIDAY said. “Good,” Tony said. He pressed some buttons and T’Challa appeared on a screen nearby. They got hold of Natasha and went through some brief introductions before getting down to business. “The power Thanos seeks are the Infinity Stones,” Thor explained to make sure everyone was on the same page. “The Space Stone is blue and it is what allowed Loki to open a dimensional portal for the Chitauri to attack this city six of your years ago. The Reality Stone is a red stone and it became the Aether. It is the reason that the Svartálfar invaded Midgard not even two years after. Both of these are kept in very secure locations that even I am not aware.” Thor paused. “Not long ago word reached Asgard that a group calling themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy used the Power Stone to stop Ronan the Destroyer. Where that stone is I cannot say.” Drax almost said something but Rocket shook his head. They remained quiet. “Another stone I am unware of its location is the Time Stone,” Thor said. “I heard it was green and had the power to manipulate time to varying degrees. There are rumors it appeared on Earth but I have no evidence. However,” Thor approached Vision, “we all know where the Mind Stone is. Thanos will come for it first.” “Then I am a target and a danger,” Vision said. “Yes,” Thor agreed, “but the danger of allowing Thanos to wield the Mind Stone is infinitely greater a threat than protecting you and the Stone from Thanos.” “Has anyone checked on whoever’s guarding the Space and Reality Stones?” T’Challa asked. “Are they still secure?” “Yes,” Thor said. “The beings still stand.” Thor frowned. “While we were on Sakaar and after our battles in Asgard, I heard many things. Whatever Thanos is planning it will be bigger than any battle we have fought as a team. We must unite with each other and with the Guardians of the Galaxy and whoever else we can bring into the fight that will give us an advantage. We likely have little time.” “Where are the rest of you guys anyway?” Rhodey asked Rocket and Drax. “We kind of ran into some technical difficulties,” Rocket said. “When we came into orbit, we got hit with a Chitauri ship and one of our crew decided to eject us from the ship. He’s like two or something. It happens. Before we left the ship, we decided to meet at a San Ark, so we go there, the rest of us will be there.” There was a a small pause and then the holoscreen that represented Natasha made a small noise like a sputter. “Saint Louis arch!” Quill said. Another silence followed since they were all under the impression Natasha was alone. Then Rocket asked, “How was I supposed to know? It’s not like we talked about it. Besides, who makes an arch significant landmark anyway?” “The city of Saint Louis for one,” Quill said. “Paris for another.” “I don’t know where either of those are,” Rocket said in a no duh kind of voice. “How would I know where either of those are?” He shook his head. “If the Guardians have a meeting place then perhaps some of us should go there to meet with them,” Vision suggested. “We could also provide a swift exit in case we have to make the ‘shooting a found footage movie’ excuse,” Tony said. “We could meet on Memorial Day,” Natasha suggested. “We can use the crowds to our advantage.” “Maybe meet around sunset?” Quill said. “That way people will be paying attention to the river more than the people.” “How crowded does it get there anyway?” Bruce asked. No one knew. The last time any of them had been there was when Quill went with his grandpa in the late 80’s. They began to plan what they could and then T’Challa left the conversation and then Natasha and Quill left the conversation. The room was silent for a long time. “I should go find Groot,” Rocket said. “Before you go..,” Tony said and after some searching, he handed Rocket a smartphone. “If you get into trouble, press the helmet icon and it will call me directly.” Rocket turned the smartphone over in his paws. He put it in his bag and then headed out the way he entered the penthouse earlier that afternoon. Rocket set off from the penthouse’s landing strip and flew past neon signs and buildings, heading as fast as he could in the direction he saw Groot disappear. He honestly did not know how he would find Groot. Rocket dodged drones and birds. He ignored shocked shouts when someone happened to glance out a window while he flew past. Rocket slowed when he got to the approximate area. It was residential. He stopped the music and hissed, “Groot!” knowing Groot could hear him even if he was super quiet. “Groot!” He landed on the sidewalk and slunk into a nearby yard. “Groot!” He approached a window and peeked in. There were two young kids and a babysitter watching TV. Rocket moved along the street, sticking close to the houses. When Peter Parker hurried down the sidewalk, Rocket hid behind some rose bushes. Once Parker was gone, Rocket continued his search. “NO!” a voice behind Rocket from inside a nearby house shrieked. “No! Bad raccoon!” Rocket blinked “What the f –” He turned around in time to get a very, very bright light shone in his face. A speaker nearby began to blare, “Blinded by the Light” by Manfred Mann’s Earth Band so loud it hurt Rocket’s ears. Rocket ran. The music continued to blare, but once he reached the Parker residence, there were enough buildings between them to make it tolerable. Once the song ended, the music stopped. Rocket’s ears still rung. “I am Groot,” a voice said from the house Rocket hid beside. Rocket froze. “I am Groot,” Groot said, thanking someone. “How do we know this isn’t going to turn out like Gremlins?” May asked. “Don’t feed him after midnight?” Parker asked. Rocket peeked in the window slowly. Groot was walking over to the TV while May and Parker stood with their backs to the window. Groot looked hydrated and healthy. There did not seem to be any danger and Groot looked happy. Rocket hesitated and then he lowered his head below the window. If he knew where Groot was and Groot was okay, did he have to take Groot back with him right now? It would also be easier to collect Groot if Quill was there judging by the weird light and music display down the street. There was a small chirp to Rocket’s left. He ignored it. The chirp sounded again. Rocket looked at the source and saw a raccoon staring at him. The raccoon let out a small purring noise. “Uh…” Rocket’s voice trailed. The raccoon inched closer and chirped again. “…No. No thanks,” Rocket said, not really sure what the raccoon meant. The raccoon drew closer and purred again. “Just go…do whatever you guys do,” Rocket said and stood up, taking a step back. He engaged his jetpack and took off into the air as the end to “Blinded by the Light” echoed into the night, muttering “Trash panda,” under his breath. The Saint Louis Arch was currently under renovations. Even though no one could go into the structure, there were people enjoying the designated picnic areas. The Mississippi River flowed along the eastern bank, and the sunset began to decorate the old courthouse to the west. Quill, Natasha, and Clint sat in the open enjoying the music from a nearby radio station truck and the view. Quill hoped it would not be too hard for everyone to get a ticket into the grounds. “I like the music, but I could go for some metal once in a while,” Natasha said. Peter and Clint followed her gaze. They could see Tony, Rhodey, Vision, Thor, and Drax approach. Their clothes did not look expensive and they almost blended into the crowd except Vision’s face under his hood was clearly not a flesh tone. No one in the crowd seemed to notice this, most people continuing to go about their business. “I dunno,” Clint said, “I wouldn’t mind a good round of ‘God Bless America.’” From the other end of the park, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Gamora, and Mantis entered. The three native to Earth wore non-descript clothing. Gamora and Mantis still wore what they arrived on Earth with. All of them had what looked like convention badges as though they had an afternoon of fun and now came to watch the sunset. Most people did not take notice, and those who did started whispering about makeup and prosthetics skills. Quill stood up and waved to both groups as ‘Why Can’t We Be Friends,” by War began to play from the radio van’s speakers. Gamora, Mantis, and Drax gravitated to him immediately. Steven then Sam then Wanda then Natasha then Mantis then Clint then Quill then Gamora then Drax then Thor then Vision then Rhodey then Tony made a curved line. No one said a word. “Where’s Rocket and Groot?” Quill whispered to Drax. “Rocket stayed behind with Banner. He said Groot is safe,” Drax said. Quill nodded. When it appeared no one was going to say anything, he took a deep breath. “Anyway…hi. Thanks for coming. I’m Star Lord,” after some looks he said, “most call me Peter. I’m part of the Guardians of the Galaxy and we’ve come to kick Thanos’ ass. All your help is appreciated.” He reached down to a cooler nearby. “I brought some hot dogs and some veggie dogs I grilled at a park earlier. I’m not sure if they’re good or not. I had a soda for the first time in like almost thirty years yesterday and it was not what I was expecting at all.” “In a good way or a bad way?” Vision asked. “Huh?” Quill asked. Then he seemed to process the question. “I don’t know. It’s just not what I remember drinking.” He opened another cooler. “We also got some water bottles. Figured we might as well eat.” The groups eyed each other and then Steve and Tony both sat. The rest followed. There were enough dogs for everyone to have two. The sun continued to lower in the sky. They remained quiet, some more tense and others more relaxed. Quill looked at the arch, his eyes following it from one end to the other. “Okay, I have to ask,” Rhodey said after he finished a hot dog, “why the arch?” “Uh…well,” Quill thought about how to answer, “it’s easy to find. I grew up not far from here actually.” “It is…. What does it do?” Thor asked. “You go up to the top and look at the city from the observation deck,” Quill said. “They built it when my mom was a kid.” Everyone’s eyes were on the arch as they watched the sky grow darker and darker, almost at a faster rate than it should during a normal sunset. “Guys,” Natasha said in a warning tone. The darkness became a void. A large ship appeared as “Mama Told Me Not to Come,” by Three Dog Night began to play from the abandoned radio van. Ordinary people on the grounds ran as fast as they could, abandoning what they could not carry. Tony and Rhodey encased themselves in their suits. Gamora put her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I thought you said the Space Stone was secure,” Tony said. “It was,” Thor said. “When I returned to Asgard, it was still secure in the vault.” Lights across the river began to flicker and then go out and soon lights around the arch and the city went out as well. The only light came from the almost full moon rising steadily. Quill touched a button near his ear and activated his space helmet so the eyes would allow him to discern friend from foe. “Protect Vision,” Steve said. “Get him out of here.” “Thor, you’re the demi-god,” Tony said. “Get him back to that location.” Vision hesitated. “Tony –” “Go with him,” Tony said. “We can’t lose you.” Vision and Thor disappeared into the darkness. The Daughters of Thanos drew closer, the lights of their jetpacks showing their locations before they dropped to the grass. Quill, Tony, and Rhodey took to the air since their vision technology was the best of the group. Drax shot up after the group in the sky once his eyes became accustomed to the moonlight. The rest of the Avengers and Guardians drew into a circle with their backs to one another. None of the Daughters of Thanos looked like each other. Many were humanoid, but there was at least one that looked like a person-sized biped lizard, and there were a few Daughters that moved on four legs when waling. Many had mechanical parts like Nebula. Few, like Gamora, were completely flesh still. Gamora had fought almost all of them and those she had not fought before she saw fight others. She drew her sword and stilled her breath. The clash on the ground came from all sides. Wanda used her magic to throw those charging towards her to the side. Mantis positioned her hands and waited for skin to grab, concentrating on thinking about sleep and peace. Natasha used her dual guns to pick off Daughters before they got too close. Gamora clashed with her sword, holding her ground while trying to evade attacks. Steve grabbed a heavy cooler nearby and used it as a shield between him and the Daughters while also using it offensively to strike blows. Sam took out a knife with a long blade and hoped he could figure out where to slice the aliens for maximum blood loss. Clint had his bow and arrows, shooting strategically. Some arrows exploded on contact and the shrapnel dispersed into the wave of attackers. Several of the larger, quadrupedal Daughters charged Wanda, Natasha, and Mantis at the same time several Daughters from the sky dropped down and lifted Steve, Sam, and Wanda into the air. With the circle broken, Thanos’ forces on the ground swarmed. Gamora ducked and swung, striking her targets. Natasha kicked one of the Daughters charging in the face and Mantis grabbed another, sending her into a deep slumber before touching the Daughter Natasha kicked, sending her into a deep sleep too. Quill continued to fire at any target he could. He watched the Daughters who picked their targets up shoot high into the air. “Shit,” Quill said. He shot at another Daughter and then flew towards them, not sure what he could do to help all three of them. Sam managed to drive his knife into the neck of his captor. Once the Daughter died, they remained in the air due to the jet pack. Sam used the controls to lower the dead body and himself to the ground. Wanda damaged her captor’s jetpack and sent the Daughter spiraling to the ground while Wanda’s powers kept her in the air. She began attacking the Daughters around her, sparks of red lighting up the aerial battle. Quill saw Clint look at him just before Clint’s captor released him. Clint fell through the air and shot an arrow, striking the Daughter in the jetpack engine, causing an explosion. Quill managed to get below Clint fast enough to catch him. Quill returned Clint to the ground. They joined the fight on the ground, Clint collecting arrows from dead bodies. Drax was aggressive with his battle style. He slashed, stabbed, and headbutted his way through the sky. Each opponent was a challenge and each was more skilled than the last. He ploughed his elbow into the middle of the lizard Daughter and she bit him on the shoulder. Drax stabbed her in the sides and watched her drop to the ground. Then his vision began to blur. His head felt too light and his feet too heavy. He touched a button on his jetpack but it did not respond. He tried to press harder but it felt like her could barely push it at all. He slowly fell through the air to the ground as he blacked out. It did not feel like progress, but they were slowly making it. Gamora knew there could be a second wave of her sisters, but she was not sure when it would come. She felt a sting along her ankles that quickly began to move up her legs. Multiple something were attacking from outside her clothes. She sprung into the air with her jetpack and kicked, but the stinging persisted. Soon the Daughters of Thanos began to falter in their attacks. Many took to the air like Gamora. Gamora felt a sting on her hand that then became a pain as if something was trying to eat her flesh. Quill started shouting nearby and also took to the air. “Shit. Fuck. What the hell?!” A large humming drew closer like a wave of stinging insects. The wasps began to target anyone who was not an Avenger. “Shit,” Clint said. “Shit! You’re attacking our allies too!” he shouted. “Scott! Stop!” There was a sudden pause and the biting ants and stinging wasps stopped but did not retreat. There was a harsh smell of various metals in the air, like a mixture of bloods that also did not smell like blood at the same time. Some of the Daughters of Thanos dropped to their knees or passed out completely, their bodies unable to handle the insect toxins in their bodies. Suddenly, a large man in a head to toe suit appeared towards the north side of the main battle. Scot Lang stood ten foot tall in the Giant Man form of his suit. He picked one of the Daughters of Thanos out of the sky and threw her at the hovering spacecraft on the other side of the river. The spacecraft shot a beam out, incinerating the incoming warrior and anything in its path. Several Daughters of Thanos hovered mid-air once the beam passed through them and then one by one each of the Daughters’ jetpacks exploded and Tony’s suit exploded milliseconds after the closest daughters to him did. Guts and shrapnel showered down on anyone near the explosions. The next blast from the ship shot at the giant man, who ducked out of the way before shrinking down to blend into the crowd. This time Daughters scrambled out of the way as best they could an only a few did not survive. Quill found Gamora in the air. “What can we do?” Daughters began to return to the ship. As long as they approached on their own volition, the ship did not shoot at them. “We have to go,” Gamora said. She pinched the last remaining ant and sent it towards the ground. “What are these things?” “Red ants,” Quill said. He looked around for somewhere they could go that wouldn’t harm people if the ship followed. Suddenly Scott Lang appeared across the shore, directly under the spaceship. He leapt into the air and punched his fist into the hull of the spaceship. When he landed on the ground, it caused the area nearby to quake. He jumped and punched the hull again, causing a loud cracking noise to echo through the immediate river valley. The void reopened and the ship escaped through it. Giant Man shrank out of sight. Gamora and Quill landed at Drax’s side where Mantis was already trying to move him. “I put Drax to sleep so he could heal. He’s very wounded.” Quill wrapped one of Drax’s arms around his shoulders and wrapped his own arm around Drax’s waist. He used impulse power on Drax’s jetpack to help carry him. “I’m out of ideas about what we’re doing next,” he said. “We’ll let them lead,” Gamora said. “Stay alert. This isn’t right.” Sam landed nearby and removed one of the Daughter’s jetpacks he took during the battle. He looked at Wanda. “I can’t find Steve.” “I saw him fighting not long ago,” Wanda said. She drew her magic to her hands. “I can check for his breath.” A thin red mist spread from Wanda’s fingers as she detected vibrations in the air. Tony and Rhodey landed not far away. Wanda’s eyes widened. “They’re –” Half the Daughters lying on the ground stood up and pressed the detonation devices on their jetpacks. At the same time, one of them shot something towards Tony’s suit. It was sticking and large and the stickiness began to grow, oozing into joints to make the suit harder to remove. “Uh…” Tony was half way out of the suit, but the stickiness grew, clinging to bits of fabric of his clothes once his clothes were exposed. “This is a message from Thanos,” the large lizard said. “He remembers New York and he will not allow it to happen again.” Rhodey moved towards Tony to help. “No!” Tony said. “Everyone, get away!” he tried to put his suit back on, but the sticky mass prevented most of the suit from returning. Tony found enough suit to propel himself into the air just in time for the sticky bomb to detonate. Shrapnel and flesh rained down on everyone. Only the parts of Tony encased in his suit remained. Within seconds, the remaining Daughters detonated their jetpacks, the force of their explosion sending those alive and corpses flying. The grass caught fire. It took a moment before Gamora realized she’d landed several feet away from her original position. The ringing in her ears eased away and she stood. The moon showed a mass of bodies and body parts scattered across the grounds. She looked around near her and found Mantis, who was still alive, and helped Mantis to her feet. Quill and Drax were farther away and closer to the detonation point, but both were still breathing. As far as she could tell, the void was gone and the threat from her sisters gone. “Sam! Sam,” Wanda said nearby where she knelt over him. “I’m – I’m still here,” Sam murmured and sat up slowly. “Where’s Steve?” “I cannot find him,” Wanda said. Clint stood up and rubbed his face. He had his weight on his right leg as though his left leg was too injured to stand on. Natasha and Rhodey walked towards the north and stopped after several paces. Natasha kept one of her arms close to her body as though it were injured. Rhodey removed his armor and Natasha’s posture straightened. Suddenly two people appeared beside Sam and Wanda. Hope Pym stood beside Scott dressed in a similar suit to his, but with a more wasp-like color motif. “What happened?” she asked quietly. “Tony Stark is dead,” Clint said. He found some twisted metal he could use as a makeshift cane. “We can’t stay here. Now that the ship is gone, the police and press will show up soon.” Quill got to his feet and pulled Drax up with him with help from Gamora. “Where do we go?” he asked. Rhodey found a picnic blanket and wrapped what remained of Tony in it. He walked back towards the others with Natasha a step behind him. “We have to go,” he said. “Everyone can come.” He encased himself in the suit and took to the air. Wanda had enough energy to transport Natasha with her magic. Gamora helped Sam with her jet pack and Mantis helped Clint with her jetpack. Quill was at the end of the line with Drax. It was a short flight to the north and across the river to a set of three islands. There was an aircraft concealed in the trees. The group touched down and approached. Rhodey retracted his suit and then pressed a button on the watch it became. The cargo doors opened. Thor and Vision were prepared to fight back, but when they saw it was a group of allies, their postures relaxed. “We were undisturbed,” Thor said. “Apart from an earthquake,” Vision said and paused, seeming to take a headcount. “Two are missing.” “No,” Rhodey said and set the bundle of body parts down in a seat. He fastened the bundle in so it would return to the tower intact and undisturbed. He rubbed his face and went to the pilot seat. Everyone else filed into the aircraft and took seats, leaving the row Tony was in alone. Quill sat in the copilot seat, not sure where else to be. Rhodey took a deep breath and ran through the pre-flight checklist and then the craft rose straight into the air like a helicopter but without the blades. Memorial Day in New York City carried on like any other Memorial Day. There were parades, pool openings, and cookouts. Parker and May were gone since that morning leaving Groot to his own devices. He watched some TV, played around with a bucket full of water they left him in the shower, and watched the neighbors and street activity. The front door opened and closed. “Hey, Groot!” Parker called out. “I am Groot!” Groot said. He used his branches to swing off the stair railing and fling himself towards Parker. Parker caught him. “Hey. Do you want to get out of the house?” “I am Groot,” Groot affirmed. “Okay,” Parker said. “If you promise to stay in my backpack, I can show you something really cool, okay?” “I am Groot,” Groot said. He could promise that. Parker got his bag and packed it with some extra water bottles. He placed Groot inside and zipped it up so that the top was open but not so open people could see inside it. “How’s that feel? Is it too stuffy?” Groot waited a few moments. “I am Groot,” he said. It would suffice. They traveled by foot for some distance and then they took to the air. Groot could not see much asides from buildings and sky flashing by as they seemed to swing through the air. After much swinging, they stopped moving. “I am Groot?” Groot asked quietly. “Yeah, we’re there,” Parker said. He unzipped the bag. Groot let out a very loud, very high-pitched shriek. Hovering over the bag was something that was red and blue with giant white eyes. Groot continued to shriek and attacked with is branches. “Wait! Hey! It’s me!” Parker said. “Groot!” Groot peered out of the bag. Parker had the mask pulled up to his forehead. It was definitely him under that second skin. Groot slowly poked his head out the bag. They were on top of a building. There was no one else around. “I am Groot,” Groot said. “Prove I’m me?” Parker asked. He frowned and then removed the second skin from his right hand. He showed Groot his wrist. “This is my costume,” he said. “See? It’s my hand, my arm.” “I am Groot,” Groot said, noting the place where the webbing could come out of Parker’s wrist. “Well, it…uh…does this,” Parker said and he shot a bit of webbing at the rim of the rooftop, creating a small web. Groot got out of the bag and went over to the web. He poked it gently. “I am Groot.” “Yeah, it can be like that,” Parker said. He reached into the bag and retrieved a small bag of potting soil. “Want a snack?” “I am Groot,” Groot agreed and took the bag from Parker, picking bits of dirt out with his branches to eat. Parker got out a bag of chips and settled down on the roof near the rim. Groot climbed up onto his lap and the two looked out at the sunset gleaming against all the buildings in the city. Parker put on some music and “Iron” by Woodkid began to play. Groot watched the sky change colors and the sun grow larger and redder. He finished his soil and drank some water as Parker’s music continued to play. When the sun finished setting, Groot stood up and said. “I am Groot.” Groot wanted to swing through the city where he could really see instead of being stuck in the bookbag. “You’re really small. It might not be a good idea,” Parker said. “I am Groot.” Groot was not that small. He had grown so much since he was still in a pot on the ship. “People might see you,” Parker said. Groot looked at the Spider-Man suit and then at Parker’s face. “I am Groot.” There was no way Groot looked weirder or would attract more attention than that costume. “You shouldn’t say the f-word you know,” Parker said. “What if Aunt May hears that?” “I am Groot.” Aunt May could not hear that well. Parker sighed. “I’ll let you stick your head out until we have to walk.” Groot agreed and they made sure he could see without falling if they ended up upside down. Once Groot was in the bookbag, they were off across the city again. Groot’s eyes grew wide. It was amazing to feel the rush of air, see the lights and buildings zooming past. They made a pitstop for Parker to change clothes and then Groot spent the walk home deeper in the bookbag. When the group left in the late afternoon, Rocket had to stay behind because Terra was apparently not ready for a “walking, talking sass raccoon,” and Bruce elected to stay behind for reasons Rocket did not know, though he could guess introversion was a factor. Rocket continued making a particle gun from scratch and Bruce worked at correlating what they knew about Thanos. When it got to be suppertime, Bruce was willing to cook and Rocket was willing to eat anything. Bruce made fried noodles with vegetables and fried tofu. It was spicy and had a sweet twinge to it from sweet chili paste Rocket found in the pantry. Rocket set his bowl down after licking off every last drop and then leaned back on the kitchen stool. “How long does it take to get to this St. Louis place anyway?” “In Tony’s jet? Probably an hour or so. He still has to coordinate with the FAA, so maybe an hour and a half,” Bruce said. He picked their bowls up and took them to the sink to rinse them out. “They’re probably staring each other down as we speak.” Once the dishes were rinsed, he set them in a slot in the wall that would carefully take the dish to a main dishwasher to be cleaned. They went back to the workroom and Bruce turned on a screen, choosing a local channel that would be likely to interrupt programming with any breaking news. Rocket continued wiring his gun, but the movie on the television kept drawing his attention. It was about this robot that had come to Earth to destroy some woman who was probably going to hook up with the male protagonist at some point. From what Rocket could tell, Bruce was not paying attention to it at all. It was probably a little over an hour since the sun set in New York, when the station showed the local news logo and the newscaster appeared on screen. “We’re sorry to interrupt your Memorial Day, but we have breaking news from St. Louis.” Rocket and Bruce turned their attention to the screen. “The footage we’re about to show you is a life, unedited feed from a hotel room near the action. Discretion is advised.” The footage showed an alien spaceship near the full moon rising behind the arch. It showed some of the Daughters of Thanos dropping down to the ground out of frame to fight while others engaged Quill, Iron Man, and War Machine in the air. Soon Drax joined them. The last light of the sunset disappeared and only the moonlight and light from jetpacks and attacks illuminated anything. Whenever the footage cut out, there was always another stream from somewhere else to take its place. Rocket and Bruce continued to watch. Then there was a large beam blast from the spaceship. The feed cut out. Groot woke when he heard a spaceship’s canon fire. “I am Groot! I am Groot!” he said, but soon realized he was not on board his ship and his friends were not here. He looked at the television. He did not remember falling asleep, but he must have when the movie they were watching about lions started playing a song about feeling the love tonight. “…we’re trying to find another feed,” one newscaster said. “There’s no word yet if any Avengers were in that blast.” Groot looked at Parker then. The teen had his arms on his thighs and had bitten his nails almost to the point there was nothing left to bite. Parker’s eyes did not leave the screen. His entire body was tense. “I am Groot…?” Groot asked tentatively. “Shhh,” Parker said. “…This feed comes from Drury Plaza Hotel…” the newscaster droned on as the screen switched from the studio to a blurry image of the battle raging. Again the spacecraft fired its canon. Groot and Parker watched the aftermath quietly. The newscasters only spoke to explain to anyone tuning in what was going on. When Giant Man sent the spaceship away, the cameras all suddenly cut out and there were no more live feeds. “I am Groot!” Groot said and he jumped off the couch. He ran towards the door. He was going to help his friends. He wasn’t going to let them just lie there. He could remember Yondu lying in his casket during the funeral and he did not want that for any of them. “Groot!” Parker charged after him. “Groot! No!” He shot his web at the door handle so it would be stuck to the door molding. Groot started banging on the door. Parker picked him up and Groot became a mass of branches trying to break the web and get out. “Groot! They’re in St. Louis! We’d have to go by plane! I don’t have that kind of money!” “I am Groot!” Groot didn’t care. He needed to know his friends were okay. “We could call them! We can talk to them!” Parker said. He kept a tight grip on the thrashing plant. “I am –” Groot paused when the news made its breaking news fanfare, “Groot?” he finished quieter. Parker turned around so they could both see the television. Groot stopped thrashing. Tony Stark’s picture appeared to the left of the newscaster with 1970 – 2018 written underneath. Parker wrapped his arms around Groot more like Groot was a stuffed animal than insolent toddler. “…reports that Tony Stark has died,” the newscaster said. “Multiple sources can confirm based on video evidence and eyewitness testimony that the billionaire was killed when a space ship attacked those fighting at the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. There has been no official word from Stark Enterprises, but we suspect they will confirm his death before morning.” Parker’s grip tightened around Groot. He swallowed hard. The news split the screen with a helicopter view of the battle site. There were few corpses. They could see firefighters approaching the scene. “..We’re expecting an update from the local fire chief and police chief within the hour,” the newscaster continued. “I am Groot,” Groot said. The Peter he knew cried. It was probably something Peters did. Paker snuffled loudly. He set Groot down and picked up his phone. His hands shook as he typed a message into it. When he went to hit send, the phone rang and he dropped it. He cursed under his breath and picked it up, answering it. “Hel –” Parker cleared his throat to make it sound stronger, “Hello?” “Hi, it’s me,” Happy Hogan said and then after a pause he said, “Happy Hogan.” Parker gripped the phone tightly. He could not even open his mouth. “Peter? Are you there?” Happy asked. “I just…Are you sitting?” “Y – Yeah. Sure,” Parker said even though he still stood. “It’s bad news. I…” Happy paused as though picking out the right words and realizing there were none. “Is he…?” Parker asked and slowly sat down on the floor. “Y – Yeah,” Happy said. “I’m really sorry, Peter.” His voice was very thin. Parker’s hands shook too much for him to keep holding the phone and it fell into his lap. He put his hands over his eyes and began to sob. Groot hesitated and then he toddled over and wrapped his branches around Parker. Groot did not know what to say. He let Parker cry. The medical facility at the tower was fully staffed. The Guardians gathered in a corner left to their own devices, letting the staff take care of the Avengers since the staff had more experience with that than treating beings who were not from Earth. They could see Sam and Wanda sitting on the same hospital bed talking quietly. Natasha had her right arm in a sling while waiting on a cast. Clint’s leg was still being set. Thor stood off to the side, thinking deeply. Bruce helped the medical staff take care of patients. Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, and Vision were elsewhere. Drax abruptly threw up. “Hey! Watch it!” Quill said at the same time Rocket said, “Give us a warning!” “It has exited my body. I do not need to be here,” Drax said. “Let’s just…stay together a little longer,” Gamora said, glad to be standing on the opposite side of the hospital bed. “The thing I don’t get is how is your arm that big?” Rocket asked Quill. “I’m allergic to wasps like my mom,” Quill said. He had his jacket off now. The site of the sting on his right hand looked angry and his entire arm from finger tips to elbow was swollen. “I just need some Benadryl and a gallon of Gatorade.” “I tried to tell them not to sting you,” Mantis said. “It was easier to influence the ones that crawled more than the ones that flew.” Scott and Hope approached the Guardians and introduced themselves. Hope had some ice packs. “We’re sorry about the attack,” she said and held out the ice packs that were already wrapped in cloths. “Ice can help with the bites.” Gamora studied the packs a moment and then took one of the packs cautiously. After about an hour after the ant attack, the pain of the bites had reduced. She placed the ice pack on her arm and found that it did help what pain remained. “You probably didn’t know,” Quill said, trying to stand a little straighter. It was hard to look cool when one of his arms was swollen all to hell. He took two ice packs and put them on his forearms. “We owe you a beer or something when this is all over,” Scott said. End Draft After this point, Steve's body is in posession of the government. There are funerals. I was kind of stuck because I was trying to figure out how exactly I wanted to do these funerals. What time of day? Where are they burried? The government has Steve's body for experimentation so what do the Avengers bury in his stead? Sam and Rhodey take over command of the Avengers. Bucky's brought out of cryosleep and Loki also joins in on things because this is so much bigger than past problems and the Avengers/Guardians need all the help they can get. Nova shows up because like hell she's going to miss this. Groot and Parker show up to help too. Thanos has possession of all of the Infinity Stones. The final confrontation is very brutal. Not sure who all would die, which is another reason for the delay in finishing this. Slowly the stones are stripped away from him. Vision is restored, Loki uses the Tesseract to help rather than hurt, etc...Eventually after much struggle and problems, Thanos is defeated. How exactly is a good question, it's another reason that I kind of stalled out on this thing. The ending, however, was much clearer to me than this middle to almost end bit. Once the dust is settled and it's time for everyone to go home, the Guardians (what remains of them?) head to their ship, which has been rescued and restored. They're standing outside of it along with what remains of the Avengers, X-Men, whoever, etc.... The Guardians think Quill will remain on Earth. It's his home after all and the place he's longed to see again. They all know how much this means to him and they expect him to want to stay. Except, Quill's been gone since 1988. The food's different, his extended family is either dead or wouldn't realize who he was anyway. His mother is dead. While it was great to visit Earth and full of nostalgia, the Guardians are his family and space is his home, though he will always love what he knows of Earth. So in the end, the Guardians zoom off back into space to the tune of like "We Are Family" by Sister Sledge or something in that vein. The End

#my fanfics #my fanfics 2017 #my wip fanfics #guardians of the galaxy fanfics #mcu fanfics #avengers fanfics #crossover fanfics #wip fanfics

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