#<- just tryna cover my bases. please tell me if i need to tag anything else

[arctasy]

shelby’s recent statement on twitter

[nadisabug]

Pairing: Osamu Miya x fem! reader

Genre: angst </3

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight alcoholism

Word Count: 1.4k

Requested: @kohi-zeri

Summary: Osamu was a stubborn man who never admitted his wrongs. But late nights spent thinking about nothing but you can change a man.

A/N: this one is based off of baby come back by player and is super angsty. Thank you for the beta and help @snoozless I may make a part two if people are interested in that so let me know!

Haikyuu Masterlist // Love Song Event Masterlist

Osamu stumbled to his door, crashing against it as he tried to enter his apartment. The shock sent some clarity to his head. Keys, he needed keys. Leaning against the door, he dug his hand into his pocket and fished around. Sharp, jagged metal scraped his hand, but he felt numb to it. The alcohol buzzing in his veins was enough to dull the pain. He pulled the keys out and promptly dropped them. 

He cursed. 

Osamu leaned down to pick them up, and with him the world tilted and spun. It felt like a broken clock hand, ticking then resetting. Spinning, then clicking back into place. 

Grabbing at the keys blindly, he managed to pick them up. As he stood back up, he had to hold onto the door handle to keep himself from falling. He brought the keys up to his face to select the correct key before jamming it into the lock. 

He fell through the door once it opened, barely catching himself in time. Osamu righted himself and closed the door behind him, barely remembering to throw the lock back into place. He stumbled to his bedroom and threw himself face first onto the bed. He laid there, face buried in the covers and started to drift off…

That is, until his phone began to ring. 

He ignored the first call. 

And the second. 

Once the third began to sound he rolled over onto his back and picked up the phone. 

“Whadda fuck you want?” He slurred. 

“Fuck man, calm ‘yerself. Just checkin to make sure you got home okay,” Atsumu’s familiar drawl poured through the speaker. “You were fucken out of it, bro. But again, you insisted on walken yerself-”

“Well, I’m home alright,” Osamu snapped. 

Astumu paused for a moment. “You gonna be alright?”

“Fuck you mean?”

“It’s been a month today,” Atsumu said softly. “‘Ts why I didn’t give you shit for calling me out to drink with you.”

“Oh it has?” Osamu feigned ignorance. He knew damn well what today was. Why did shitty ‘Sumu have to remind him?

“Cut yer shit ‘Samu. It’s okay to hurt but doing this…” Atsumu sighed. “‘M worried bout ya.”

“I’m fine,” Osamu spat. “Besides, what right do I have to hurt? I’m the one who broke up with her.”

“Yeah, but still-”

“I’m home fine. Now goodnight shithead.”

Atsumu sighed. “Goodnight, just rem-”

Osamu hung up. 

Spending all my nights, all my money going out on the town / Doing anything just to get you off of my mind

Osamu stirred. His brain was still foggy, and his room still dim. He stretched out on the bed, pulling his arms up and over. His muscles felt tight and sore, probably from the practice ‘Sumu talked him into. 

He sighed as he relaxed onto the bed, a dull thrumming in his head. It hurt, and he craved your touch to remedy it. He rolled over and patted the other side of the bed, intending to curl into you.

He opened his eyes. 

Where were you?

You often got up before him, so this was nothing new. You were probably making breakfast for him. He sat up, groggily, and cleared his throat. 

“Y/n? Can you get me some water?” He called out. “My head’s killing me and I don’t-”

His eyes landed on the bare half of the dresser. He still hadn’t moved his stuff over from when you left. 

That’s right.

You weren’t here. 

Osamu felt a wave of emotion hit him as the realization washed over him, leaving him shaken and cold. 

He suddenly felt like an idiot for calling out to you, of course you weren’t here. He did that. He made you leave. 

Osamu laid down and pulled the covers back over him. 

For some reason, it was terribly cold.

He fought hard to swallow the lump in his throat.

But when the morning comes, I'm right back where I started again / And tryna forget you is just a waste of time

“Something bring ya down?”

Osamu looked up at the elderly cashier. She was giving him a soft, small smile. Pity.

“No of course not, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” Osamu responded, a little confused. 

“You just look like you have a broken heart,” she smiled sweetly. She had so much care in her eyes. Just like you did when he told you to-

“Since when did they pay you to give out therapy?” Osamu snapped. He couldn’t hold himself back, anger dripped from his voice. 

“S-sorry hun, I just-”

“Well don’t,” he growled. He paid quickly and stormed out of the store. 

He didn’t realize until he got to the car that he forgot his groceries.

All day long, wearing a mask of false bravado / Tryna keep up  smile that hides a tear

Osamu sat nervously checking the clock. Why was his good-for-nothing brother so late? He was supposed to have been here 15 minutes ago. 

He waited longer, and the longer he waited the more he regretted it. 

But then his phone buzzed. 

Osaumu walked as slowly as he could to the door and opened it. On the other side was his shitty brother. Atsumu nodded, and Osamu let him in. 

“Ya know, she was the only one who supported you quittin’ volleyball.”

“Huh?” Osamu closed the door and stared at his brother. 

“Just thinking about it,” Astumu shrugged.

“This isn’t even about her,” Osamu sighed. He walked to the kitchen counter where he already had a bottle and two glasses. 

“Oh, fer fuck’s sake, can you quit lyin’ to me?” Atsumu’s drawl coated his words heavier as his frustration rose. 

Osamu thought about some responses, but he didn’t use any of them. He just looked at the bottle; he couldn’t count how many he had been through this week. 

“I… I can’t sleep without her…” Osamu’s voice was raw with emotion. He had to fight back the lump in his throat. 

Atsumu took the bottle gently from him and placed it in the trash. 

“You know what you need to do. I don’t need to tell ya that.”

And Osamu knew that Atsumu was right. 

But as the sun goes down, I get that empty feeling again / How I wish to God that you were here

Osamu kept walking. 

It was all that he could do. 

He didn’t even bring his head phones, he was too sleep deprived to remember them. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he decided a walk might tire him out. 

But as he walked it began to rain.

And he kept walking.

He wanted to believe that he was doing this because he deserved it. Like this was his punishment. That’s why he kept walking in the rain, in danger of catching a cold. 

But he knew better when he approached the familiar door. 

He stood there in front of it for god knows how long. He was about to leave when he saw a light flick on in the house. 

Fuck it.

He reached out and knocked. 

Then waited. 

Then the door opened.

“What?” It was a short word. Clipped, sharp. It stabbed Osamu right in the chest. You were upset. You had every right to be. But all he could do was soak in the sight of you. 

You were standing on the other side of the door, clad in your old pajamas. He used to give you shit about those ratty things, about how you both had money to get a new pair. You always just said that they were comfy. 

But right now he couldn’t imagine you in something more beautiful.

“Hello?” You sighed and threw a hand on your hip. 

Osamu struggled to find the words.

Baby come back, any kind of fool could see / There was something in everything about you

“Can we… can we talk?”

“About what?” You sighed. You looked tired. Exhausted. 

“About us… I… I’m sorry… please…” Osamu hated the raw emotion in his voice, but he knew it had come to this. He had to do this. He couldn’t bear another night alone.

You sighed, stepping to the side and motioning for Osamu to come in. “Fine. Talk.”

Osamu walked in and you closed the door behind him. He turned to see you standing at the door impatiently. 

Then he began to talk.

Baby come back, you can blame it all on me / I was wrong, and I just can't live without you

Taglist: {OPEN}

This is bad angst so I didn’t tag those that marked it on my form!

@snoozless , @dv0412 , @milktyama , @keshastourbus 

[bevioletskies]

across the universe [prologue]

summary: Peter, the son of the Chancellor, has lived among the stars for the first ten years of his life. Gamora, the future Commander of Terra, has lived on the ground for the first ten years of hers. Though it’s finally time for the last survivors of the so-called apocalypse to return to Earth, they might not be prepared for what’s waiting for them. But when Peter and Gamora meet and find their worlds irreversibly tangled together, titles, obligations, and the impending war may be the very last thing on their minds.

a/n: The premise of this fic is very loosely based off of The 100, the television show more so than the book series. However, no previous knowledge is required, as I only used the basic concept and language, and none of the storylines or characters arcs from the show.

Fic title is from the song Across The Universe by The Beatles. Warning for mentions of canon-typical violence and injuries.

word count: 6.1k | ao3 | tag

Gamora crouched low in the grass, maintaining her near-perfect center of gravity while balancing delicately on her toes. Her eyes and ears were alert, the handle of her switchblade digging into the palm of her hand from clutching it too tightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could only just spot her sister a little off to her left, their gazes fixated on the same target about fifteen feet away. She used her free hand to bring her finger to her mouth, silencing her before her breaths became too loud, too laborious.

However, she was too late; Nebula seemed too far gone to be reasoned with. Her ink-colored eyes narrowed to slits, and under her breath, she murmured, “Yu gonplei stei odon.”

With a feral shout, Nebula took a running leap, landing firmly on the shoulders of her intended prey, yanking the wooden staff from its holster on her back and swinging it around, across the column of his throat. She grappled its other end with her other hand and yanked, snarling viciously as it dug into his flesh. The man stumbled, gasping for breath, before suddenly rolling forward, sending Nebula tumbling to the ground in front of him, the staff shattering instantly upon impact. Gamora hung her head in disappointment.

“You failed again. Why am I not surprised?” Both girls looked up into the face of their father. They barely noticed the other man, one of many mid-ranking generals who’d been unlucky enough to be their trainer for the day, limping away, rubbing at the irritated skin on his throat like it only mildly inconvenienced him, another blow to Nebula’s already wounded pride. “Are you proud of the way your voice sounds? Do you enjoy having everyone know where you are and who you are? Why do you insist upon screaming like an animal instead of remaining silent like a warrior?”

“I wanted to practice my battle cry,” Nebula murmured, recoiling. “I’m...sorry, Father.”

Thanos drew to his full height, completely towering over them, his shadow engulfing them in darkness despite it being mid-afternoon. “We’re finished here today. Let me speak to heda, alone.” Nebula slinked off in dejected silence, picking up the remains of her staff along the way. “You performed well today, little one. You’ve become stronger, far stronger than she could ever hope to be.” He jerked his head sharply to the side, indicating he wanted Gamora to follow him further, away from their temporary camp.

“I don’t know if I will be ready by the time I’m of age,” Gamora replied, brushing her stray baby hairs out of her face. “Your gonakru don’t like me very much.”

“That is because you’re still a child,” Thanos said dismissively. “They don’t see the potential in you like I do. Your ferocity, your intelligence, they will carry us forward, Gamora. They don’t see how much more powerful you are compared to all the rest.”

“They want their children to become heda instead,” Gamora muttered. “They believe it’s their right.”

“Then they forget who keeps them alive. Who made sure they had soft beds and warm bellies? Who protected them from those who dared challenge our right to this earth?” Thanos came to a stop, his piercing gaze wandering across the horizon. Vast expanses of lush grass, trees as far as the eye could see, a rich blue sky that bathed them in fresh, warm light. It was almost impossible to tell what had really happened here a hundred years ago.

“You, wanheda. The commander of death.” Gamora stopped beside him, her fingers itching to reach out and pluck a single flower from the ground, just so she could have something to make her war-ridden tent feel more like a home. “They follow you. They fear you.”

“And they will come to fear you as well. As they should.” Thanos almost sounded proud, but Gamora couldn’t help but feel her stomach curl at the very thought. She tucked her hands behind her back, clenching her fists so tightly she could feel her fingernails drawing blood in her palms. “You have good instincts, Gamora, and far more gravitas than anyone I’ve ever met. Your worthiness will become known. I have no doubt.”

“I have eight years to prove myself,” Gamora said brightly, smiling just the slightest bit. “I have time.”

“Do not wait that long, little one,” Thanos warned, glancing down at her. “They may try to kill you first.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “Really?”

“They do not care for your age or your affiliation. Only your title,” Thanos said gravely. “If they find you a threat to their survival, they will slip into your room in the cover of night, and slit your throat before you ever wake again.”

Gamora shuddered, drawing away from him. “May I please return to camp, Father? I’m hungry.”

Thanos nodded sharply. “You have my permission to rest, but we return to Sanctuary tonight. We ride out when the sun begins to set, or else the reapers will find us from the trees. I need to have some words with the gonakru about setting up snipers across Shallow Canyon.”

“Why is that, Father?” Gamora asked.

“I believe war is coming.” Thanos turned, staring directly at the sun, barely moving to shield his eyes. “And not war among our people, but one of a different kind. The kind that comes from the skai.”

“How was school today, baby?” Peter glanced up from the dining table across the expanse of their modest apartment, surprised to see his mother smiling warmly in his direction. He hadn’t even heard the door open.

“It was okay,” he shrugged, grinning toothily when she walked over to kiss his forehead. “I’m still no good at math, even though I really like my teacher.”

“Should we get you a tutor, then? They’ve got a great system going with the older kids who need extra education credits,” Meredith suggested. She went back to the front door so she could hang up her doctor’s coat and kick off her shoes, then collapsed onto the couch with a relieved sigh. She never had anything but long, arduous shifts in the medical ward, and today was no exception. “I’m glad you like your teacher, though. You had a real big spat with that last one, didn’t you?”

“He was rude to Mantis,” Peter frowned. “He got all freaked out ‘cos of her powers, but she wasn’t gonna do nothin’.”

“People don’t like what they don’t understand,” Meredith said, shaking her head. “After all this time, some folk still don’t understand modern medicine. They think I’m trying to poison them!”

“You would never!” Peter exclaimed, sitting up in his chair. “They got real scared about that ant - anti - antidote? Yeah, that antidote that you tried to give ‘em last month for the air seal problem in Sector Six. It was only after they stopped swellin’ up that they stopped tryna protest.”

“I told ‘em, baby, I even let ‘em have a look at decades of science. But you would not believe what some people choose not to believe,” Meredith chuckled sadly. “Your sister over at farm station again?” Peter nodded. “And your daddy’s in Sector One, probably doing a late night...I’m not sure if he’ll be coming home today. There’s a big ol’ announcement he wants to make, won’t even tell me what it’s all about.”

“He don’t tell us anything, anyways,” Peter muttered derisively under his breath.

Meredith frowned, moving to join Peter at the table. “Come on now, you know that’s not fair. He’s got all those laws to obey, and if the Chancellor himself don’t follow them, then what are they good for?”

“But we’re his family,” Peter protested. “Can’t he at least...I dunno, give us a hint? He’s been talking about it for ages.”

“He could get floated for it, baby,” Meredith murmured, reaching over to squeeze Peter’s arm. “Not everyone on the Council likes him, and they’re looking for any excuse to get him out. If we know something we’re not supposed to...it’s his life on the line. It could be all of our lives on the line.”

“But he said it could change our lives,” Peter said. “But...I guess that could mean anything. Like more rations, so people don’t get the hollow stomach virus.”

“Or maybe they lifted the one-child policy,” Meredith suggested. “He’s been talking about it ever since we found Mantis.”

“Yeah, ‘cept no one knows Mantis is actually his kid,” Peter retorted. “They just think her daddy never spoke for her mama when Dad floated her.”

Meredith exhaled sharply. “We don’t talk about that, Peter. Ever.”

“There’s a lot of stuff we don’t talk about.” Peter yanked his arm out of her grasp and resumed his schoolwork with a scowl on his face. Meredith opened her mouth to reprimand him, but the wince-inducing screech of the front door’s poorly maintained hinges cut her off.

“I’m hungry,” Mantis announced loudly to the entire apartment, tossing her shoes aside and skipping over to the table, oblivious to their rigid expressions. “Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, baby.” The tension in Meredith’s face instantly vanished, and she leaned over to kiss Mantis’s cheek. “I hope you were careful today, you know I don’t like you being around all those harvest machines.”

“Renie’s daddy would not let us into the greenhouses,” Mantis frowned, walking over to the fridge to search for a snack. “But he did show me the brand new holoscreen that Renie’s got in her room. She wants to know why I don’t have one, ‘cos we’re s’posed to be the richest family here.”

“We aren’t the richest by any stretch, darling,” Meredith said gently. “The most powerful, maybe.”

“What’s the difference?” Peter asked. Mantis turned away from the fridge, also curious.

Meredith hesitated, glancing back and forth between their innocent faces. “Your daddy’s invested a lot of his own money into this secret project of his. That’s why we live in a smaller apartment now,” she said carefully.

“No, it’s ‘cos he wanted his own place in Sector One so he can keep avoidin’ us like he always does!” Peter snapped, slamming his fist onto the table. Mantis let out a startled shriek, nearly dropping the cup of water she was holding.

“Peter!”

“He’s only talked to me three times this week, and all he ever says is ‘good morning’,” Peter grumbled. “He don’t even look at Mantis at all. Not for one second.”

“Peter, keep your voice down,” Meredith said urgently. “You don’t want other people to hear speak badly about your daddy, or else - ”

“Or else they’ll float me?” Peter got to his feet, snatching his homework up in his arms and storming off to his and Mantis’s shared bedroom. “They gotta catch me first.”

Gamora rolled over on her makeshift cot, woven by her own hands, staring into the dying fire intently, watching the last of it flicker away. She could only just make out Nebula’s silhouette across from her, back turned firmly in her direction. “Did you hear about the incoming war?”

The silence stretched on for so long, Gamora wasn’t sure if Nebula had heard her. “You should really stop listening to the other children. They know nothing.”

“It wasn’t from the other children, Nebula, it was from Father,” Gamora whispered. “He said they come from the sky. Skaikru.”

“We’ve heard about the skaikru before. Why would they come now? They think their planet is gone,” Nebula scoffed.

“Maybe they know the truth.” Gamora turned onto her back once more, folding her hands neatly on her stomach. “That it survived. That there’s food, and life. Fresh air, air that we can breathe.”

“Maybe, but it can’t be better than what they have now.” Nebula paused. “There is nothing here for anyone. Not even us.”

“You don’t know that, Nebula,” Gamora protested. “Our home planets were dying when we were babies. Father took us to this planet for a reason.”

“He is not our father,” Nebula said darkly. “He is a man...who tells us to call him that.”

The flap of their tent was thrown open, casting a ray of blinding sunlight across their faces. They both squinted to see better, but regretted it instantly when an awful, gaunt face peered inside to sneer at them. “You dare waste firewood during the daytime, child?”

“Father gave us three hours to sleep before we leave at sunset,” Nebula snarled in return. “Leave us alone, Maw.”

“That’s General Maw to you,” he said smugly. “And I’m failing to hear the reason for your need for fire.”

“I was cold,” Gamora volunteered, sitting up in her cot and shivering exaggeratedly. “I didn’t want to take another blanket. Firewood is less wasteful than fabric.”

Maw retreated, bowing his head respectfully as he did. “Forgive my rudeness, heda. Sleep well, and I will send Proxima to wake you before we leave.”

The moment he disappeared from earshot, Nebula snorted. “You are such a hainofi.”

“I am no princess,” Gamora said haughtily, lying back down. “I’m the future commander, and I will be better than Father. I have to be.” Nebula merely scoffed and rolled over again, snuggling into the scratchy sheets, willing herself to fall asleep against the backdrop of noise outside, the armies chatting and rattling about, calling out orders and suiting up for one last raid before dark. Gamora, meanwhile, stared up at the small gap in the top of the tent, the daylight streaming in, highlighting the dust that danced in the air above the crackling fire. “I have to be,” she repeated, just barely above a whisper.

“Peter?” The door creaked open slowly; he saw her antennae before he saw her face. “Can I come in?”

“It’s your room, too,” Peter mumbled, burying his face back into his pillow. “What d’you want?”

Mantis tiptoed into the room and hopped up onto the foot of his bed, swinging her legs over the edge. She folded her hands in her lap, twiddling her thumbs nervously. “Renie says that people talk about Mama and Daddy a lot. She told me the Council don’t know if Daddy can be a good Chancellor if he cannot be a good ‘family man’ to us and Mama. What does that mean?”

“Well...what do you feel when he’s here?” Peter asked, lifting his head to meet her puzzled expression.

“I feel...love,” Mantis said, though she sounded uncertain. “They love each other, and they love us.”

“But if Dad loves us, then why doesn’t he talk to us? He don’t even look at you before he leaves in the morning,” Peter grumbled. “He doesn’t tell Mom anything, either. It’s like he’s not really here. Maybe he isn’t a ‘family man’. He’s just...a man.”

“Do you think he is doing it again?” Her voice sounded impossibly small. “Like he did with my real mom.”

“I dunno...maybe.” Peter threw back his sheets and sat up, joining Mantis at the end of his bed. He gently placed his hand over hers. “Sorry ‘bout yelling earlier. I don’t mean to scare you. I’m just real mad at him.”

“You gotta tell Mama that you are sorry, too,” Mantis insisted. “She feels very sad. She has been feeling sad all the time. I do not think she likes thinking about what Daddy might be doing when he is not here.”

“None of us do,” Peter sighed, sinking into Mantis’s side. He swung his legs beside hers, matching her pace, enjoying the way it made her giggle. Just as the tension seemed to evaporate out of both of their bodies, his foot caught on something just underneath his bed. “Ow!”

Mantis slid off the bed and knelt on the floor, peering underneath. Her large eyes grew even wider at what she saw - a door handle, leading to the crawlspace under the floor. She sat back on her behind, pulling her knees into her chest. “It is just like the one in our first apartment. Where Daddy used to make me sleep, when no one was s’posed to know who I was.”

“Don’t think about that stuff, okay? You’re gonna make the hurt come back.” Peter held out his hand for her to take. She reluctantly accepted it, allowing him to pull her back onto the bed, into his arms. “No one’s gonna make you hide under the floor again.”

She sniffled. “But...the Council does not like me, ‘cos of my powers. They say that I scare people. That I am a...a...a burden.” She struggled to recall the word that was still foreign to her young mind, and yet simultaneously made her terrified of her own existence.

“You’re not,” Peter promised. “You’re my baby sister, and you’re Mom’s little girl, an’ you got friends and teachers who like you a whole lot. You ain’t a burden, Mantis. You’re a person.”

“He’s right.” They both looked up to see Meredith leaning against the doorframe, watching them fondly. “Don’t think that way, baby. You’re loved. You are so loved. You feel that, don’t you?”

A smile crept across Mantis’s face. “Yes, Mama.” She then turned to Peter and fixed him with a knowing look, silently urging him to apologize.

“Sorry about getting mad, Mom,” Peter said, his shoulders slumping. “I know I shouldn’t be yellin’, or talkin’ about getting floated like it’s nothin’. I just want Dad to care about us.”

“He does, Peter. He’s just really, really busy right now, and he has to put Chancellor duties first. When it’s all over, whatever it is he’s doing, he’s going to put being part of this family first,” Meredith said gently, kneeling in front of them both. She held out her hands to them, smiling when they immediately accepted, and squeezed in reassurance. “Now...since it’s just the three of us tonight, I think I can convince Nelia to get me some dessert rations for you two. How does that sound?”

They both cheered, letting her go to jump off the bed and run out into the living room in excitement. Meredith watched them go before turning back to look at the crawlspace door, twisting her wedding band consideringly around her finger. She straightened up, sighing, and followed them with a false smile.

The darkness crept in without much fanfare, and Thanos’s army was on their way, crossing back through the forest to return to Sanctuary. Gamora and Nebula were placed in the middle of the proceedings that were travelling by horseback, surrounded by soldiers, though they carried weapons of their own. The two of them kept quiet, their hoods drawn over their eyes, so they could eavesdrop on the conversations carried out by the nearby Black Order generals.

“Today’s raid would have been more successful if Father had been there,” Proxima said derisively. “Instead, he chose to remain behind and train those...branwodas. He could have done that any other day, any other place, and he picked today, of all days. When we needed him.”

“You question his decisions?” Corvus said, raising an eyebrow. “We had a near-flawless victory against Azgeda without his help and you still find something to complain about.”

“Flawless? We are carrying home fifteen soldiers on stretchers, and seven in bags,” Proxima snapped. “You are not the one who has to tell our people when their husbands and wives didn’t make it. I am.”

“Do I hear yet another petty argument between lovers? You two amuse me greatly,” Maw simpered, cantering up beside them. Even his horse had an aura of self-importance in its trot. “It is not about winning every battle, generals. It’s about winning the war.”

“Forgive us for not kneeling to kiss Father’s feet at every chance we get,” Corvus said, shaking his head in disgust. “How does the dirt taste without blood, Maw?  After all, you wouldn’t know otherwise, since you never join us in the real war.” Cull grunted his agreement from a few feet behind.

“My role is to utilize my vast array of mental manipulation abilities, not apply brute force like some common thug,” Maw replied. “It takes real skill to do what I do, something I don’t expect you to understand.”

“What you do? You mean supervise heda? A real hardship, protecting a ten-year-old girl,” Proxima said bitingly. “It’s an insult to bestow the title on her so early. We should at least wait until the Conclave, see if she can survive for more than thirty seconds.”

“I can, and I will.” Gamora rode up beside Proxima, staring up into her surrogate sister’s blood-red eyes. “I will be the last one in the ring. You’ll see.”

“Even if it means having to face Nebula?” Proxima said smugly. Gamora’s breath hitched. “What if Father asks you to kill her?”

“He wouldn’t,” Gamora said a little too quickly, though she knew it was a lie. Her stomach turned unpleasantly; Proxima sent her one last smirk as the Black Order generals sped up to join Thanos at the front of the line. Gamora fell back to Nebula’s side, suddenly finding it harder to look her way.

They carried on through the forest for what felt like forever, their vision obscured by both the dense treeline and the pitch-black darkness. Conversations began to subside, now replaced by the sounds of stifled yawns and short coughs, with everyone trying hard not to draw too much attention to themselves. Even Nebula was starting to drift off despite resting earlier, the reins going slack in her hands. Gamora was still alert, however, scanning her surroundings diligently, like she’d been taught. She inhaled deeply, finding that something smelled...off, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. It was only when she saw a flash of orange light in her peripheral vision that she knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Bak op!” she shouted.

The dreamy silence was broken by the sound of bodies hitting the ground, with every last soldier throwing themselves down and covering their heads and necks with their bare hands, their horses whinnying in fright as they were unintentionally dragged down with them, now stranded on their sides. Flaming arrows whistled through the air and whizzed past their ears, sticking into the ground and igniting the pine needles beneath their feet, along with striking a few unfortunate individuals who cried out in pain. Thanos shouted for order, calling for soldiers to fire at the tops of the trees where the snipers were hiding, while others tried to help the wounded back onto their horses and lead them back to Sanctuary.

Proxima knelt by Corvus, cradling him in her arms protectively. “Get up,” she ordered sharply, though her voice shook when she saw the arrow stuck in his shoulder, burning a hole through his armor.

“I can’t,” he panted, struggling to yank out the other one that had hit him in the leg. “Help me, my love.” She didn’t need to be told twice, hefting him over her shoulder and lifting them both onto one of the few horses left standing. After a quick order to Cull to stay behind with Thanos (Maw, unsurprisingly, was long gone), they took off to join the others.

Gamora pulled herself back up onto her horse, dragging Nebula alongside her before she could protest, and rode up to join Thanos at the front. “Fall back, daughters, it’s too dangerous for you here,” he called over the gunfire. He had an expression of grim satisfaction, watching bodies fall out of the trees like ragdolls. Nebula cowered a little behind Gamora’s shoulder at the sight.

“Guns won’t solve this, Father.” Gamora leaned over to grasp his elbow in urgency; he turned back to look down at her, surprised by her boldness.

“You suggest we bomb them, little one?”

“No. I suggest we run.” Gamora released him. “If we go now, no one else will have to get hurt. But if we fight...we will lose more people. Good people.”

To her astonishment, Thanos hesitated, staring at her like he was seeing her for the first time. Then he lifted his head and shouted, “Heda sei ban em op!” Instantly, everyone holstered their weapons and began stampeding down the pathway in pursuit of the others who were now miles and miles ahead, shouting over the chaos and carrying the retreat order down the line while arrows continued to rain down around them.

Gamora’s heart was racing in her throat as she dug her heels into her horse’s sides, breaking into a gallop, keeping herself flat against its neck while trying to block out the cries of the army behind her. Nebula’s fingers were digging into her waist, holding on for dear life, the distance between them and Sanctuary seemingly never getting smaller. It was only when they reached the gates that she finally slowed down, daring herself to look over her shoulder at the soldiers that followed.

She brought them to a stop and climbed off, clutching at her chest, willing her breath to find her again. Nebula collapsed beside her, also panting heavily. “How could you tell?” she rasped.

“Smoke,” Gamora said, letting out a long exhale. “I smelled smoke.” She straightened up and turned to look at Sanctuary, an ill-fitting name for such an imposing ship, and yet, she’d never been happier to see its darkened doors.

Sanctuary was, by far, the most advanced ship on the planet, perhaps the most advanced thing that had ever existed on Terra. When they’d arrived ten years ago, when Gamora and Nebula were babies, Thanos had brought his ship down into a huge stretch of forest that melted into farmland, in hopes of cultivating food instead of relying on rations. That soon became less relevant once people started leaving to start their own clans, refusing to remain under Thanos’s rule. Still, families expanded, and people slowly began spreading across the spaces within Sanctuary’s halls, taking up whole apartments instead of single rooms, now that they’d gone from thousands to hundreds of occupants. Now, when Gamora walked back to her own bunk on the top floor, she could go minutes without seeing another soul. Sanctuary was the hollow, empty shell of its own glory days, and to many, it was nothing more than a cold comfort in a world occupied only by them, and those who betrayed them.

“Gamora.”

She turned, stumbling backward over her own feet at the alarming sight of the entire army coming to a halt in front of her. Nebula retreated to her side, looking apprehensive. Thanos was stood in front of the crowd, facing her, an unsettlingly wide grin on his face. “...Father?”

“You did well, little one. No more lives have been lost tonight.” He stepped aside, gesturing for the crowd to address her.

One particular soldier stepped forward, his eyes shining with gratitude. “We return to our families because of you, heda.” He got down on one knee and took off his helmet, holding it over his heart. “Accept our eternal servitude, daughter of Thanos.”

Gamora watched in utter shock as every last member of the gonakru followed suit, kneeling before her like she was their new deity, their perfect god. It felt wrong, somehow, having grown men and women swearing their loyalty to her, a young girl not five feet tall, with no kills to her name. Her hands curled into fists behind her back, her fingernails digging welts into her palms once more. She clenched her jaw.

“Thank you. But remember...oso gonplei nou ste odon. The Sky People are coming.”

Once Meredith managed to steer her children into their seats at the dining table, she made a quick trip to the canteen to pick up their rations - with dessert, of course - and bring it back to their apartment. The three of them chatted idly about school, Meredith’s work, and Mantis’s visit to farm station. It felt...nice, honest, quiet in a way that even Peter’s rambunctious nature could appreciate, until they were interrupted by an alert on the holoscreen.

“Calling all residents to the main deck. The Chancellor has an announcement to make. I repeat, mandatory call for all residents to the main deck.”

Peter perked up instantly. “Is this it, Mom? The big one?”

“It could be,” Meredith said, putting her fork down. “Quick, put on your shoes. Would be bad form for the Chancellor’s family to be late, don’t you think?”

They shuffled out the door a moment later, knowing their dinner was going to go cold, and weaved their way through the halls, struggling against the dense crowd. Even with their status, people seemed unmotivated to let them get by when Meredith politely asked, some even scoffing in her face like she’d committed a great personal insult. “Privileged folk,” one of them muttered under his breath to his companion.

Meredith, having been raised right, opted to bite her tongue, but the moment she spotted a familiar fin bobbing above the crowd, she knew they weren’t going to make it through quietly. “You watch how you talk to them Quills! Meredith saved your damn life jus’ three weeks ago, you ungrateful - ”

“Yondu!” Peter cried happily, reaching for the man making his way towards them. “You’re here, too!”

“Where else would I go? Your daddy would kick my ass if I missed out on his big day,” Yondu snorted, clapping Peter on the back. “I got an actual job outside of teachin’ you how to wrestle, y’know.”

“And you know I don’t approve of you going behind my husband’s back,” Meredith said exasperatedly, falling into step beside Yondu regardless, with Mantis tucked neatly into her side. “There’s no need for Peter to learn how to fight. He don’t wanna be one of your guardsmen.”

“Your boy don’t know what he wants half the time, Mer, but that don’t mean I can’t teach him anyway,” Yondu said airily. “And ‘sides, Kraglin needs a sparring partner.”

“Kraglin’s a teenager, he could break Peter without trying,” Meredith scolded. “Use another one of your guard trainees, not my son. Forget about losing your job, the Chancellor would float you if he knew.”

“Can’t even call him by his name, can you?” Yondu shook his head. “Damn shame.” He leaned around Meredith to grin toothily at Mantis. “Hey, girl, you doin’ alright? Heard you was up at farm station.” Mantis’s shyness evaporated instantly, and she began excitedly repeating all the things she’d told Meredith and Peter earlier, only stopping when they finally arrived at the main deck.

Despite being the “main” area of the ship, it was hardly ever used, and was only open to the public for major events. However, it was a spectacle in itself - the size of a football field and then some, with a large viewing window that spanned across three of its four walls, the vastness of space spelled out for them in all its majesty. There was an elevated stage at the front, and there, Peter and Mantis could see their father waiting with his back turned to the crowd. Mantis called out to him, but her voice was lost in the chatter of the hundreds of people spilling into the room.

Once the deck was packed to its very limits, a hush fell over the crowd, everyone holding their breath in anticipation. Finally, Ego turned around to face them with his usual slick, undeniably charismatic grin. He opened his arms wide. “Our time has come,” he boomed. “I promised the day that I woke you from your chambers fifteen years ago...no, the day that we came up here a hundred years ago, the day that I welcomed you aboard my Ark, that we would be returning home someday. That day, my friends...that day is today.”

“What?” Peter whispered, clutching at Meredith’s arm in disbelief.

“You heard right, Arkadians. Today...we reclaim the Earth.”

The entire room exploded with sound, everyone cheering, clapping, some even bursting into tears of joy as they clutched at each other, jumped, danced, and sung their praises like never before. Peter and Mantis had to hold their hands over their ears; Meredith pulled them both into her side, keeping them close while the entire Ark seemed to shake with the force of everyone’s pure, uncontrollable, unstoppable joy.

The three of them barely heard the rest of the announcement, even after the crowd settled down, where Ego rattled off some statistics and facts that didn’t interest them, or really, anyone much. When he brought his speech to a close, he mentioned the guardsmen placed at every station entrance and exit, ready to answer questions and provide codes for digital instruction booklets on how to prepare for their descent. “That’s my cue,” Yondu muttered. “I’ll see you Quills on the ground.”

“Wait, Yondu - ” Peter tugged on his coat sleeve before he could go. “Are you still gonna teach me how to fight? Y’know, once we’re on Earth?”

“I dunno, boy, your daddy’ll be keepin’ a mighty close eye on you,” Yondu said, smiling ruefully. “Take care of you and your family, alrigh’?” With that, he disappeared into the crowd. Meredith rubbed Peter’s back in sympathy, but the despairing look on his face told her that he definitely still needed his dessert ration.

The citizens began filing off the deck, chatting excitedly to one another, looking more animated than they ever had in their entire existence, because finally, there was something to look forward to, something beyond their day-to-day of utterly joyless monotony. Peter and Mantis, however, only had eyes for their father, and ran the length of the deck towards him the moment a path was cleared. “Dad!” Peter exclaimed.

Ego didn’t miss a beat, immediately sweeping them up into his arms and off their feet. “You made it! It’s a happy day for us all, isn’t it?” he laughed, setting them back down. “And oh, there’s my river lily.”

“Hi, darling.” Meredith was slightly out of breath from chasing her children, but smiled regardless, wrapping her arms around Ego’s waist and kissing his cheek in greeting. “So this is what all that kerfuffle’s been about, huh? No wonder you couldn’t tell me a dang thing.”

“I’m sorry, Mer, you know if I could’ve told you, I would have,” Ego said apologetically. “I know how long you’ve waited for this, and it’s finally here. You get to go home again. You get to be on the planet you’ve always dreamed of returning to, your planet.”

“Oh, it does feel like a dream,” Meredith sighed; her smile was radiant in a way that Peter and Mantis had never really seen before. “We have to celebrate, darling. Won’t you come have dinner with us? I’d love a big ol’ slice of pie, and maybe a song or two before bed. I’ve been itchin’ to play you more of my daddy’s favorites.”

Ego stepped back suddenly, looking at her like she’d sprouted an extra head. “Come on now, Meredith, you know I don’t have time for all that. We’ve got hours of work ahead of us before we even get close to landing, and I’m not letting the Council out of my sight. You know they’ll take over the whole damn bridge if I do!”

“Watch your language,” Meredith said quietly, nodding towards Peter and Mantis. Ego seemed to have already forgotten they were there, looking rather flustered as he smiled tightly in silent apology.

“I’ll come find you before we land,” Ego said shortly, kissing her for a brief moment before he swept out of the room, his dark cape fluttering behind him. Peter and Mantis exchanged resigned looks.

Meredith, not to be deterred, took their hands and walked them right up to the glass, watching as her planet idly went by, just as bright and bold as she remembered it. “Why don’t we take a second before we have to go back? I’d hate to miss out on this view.”

“It is so dark in here, I cannot see anything,” Mantis complained, straining her neck to no avail.

“Wait, lemme - ” With a snap of his fingers, Peter’s hand began to glow faintly, and he held it over Mantis’s head, delighting in the way the light reflected off the glass, illuminating her face. “Better?”

“Thank you,” Mantis beamed. Peter teasingly ruffled her hair in response, both of them seemingly far more relaxed than they had a minute ago.

Meredith smiled in relief. “Earth it is, then. I hope you’ll love it there, darlings. I hope it’s still beautiful.”

a/n: I have been waiting to post this fic for a very long time and it's finally here!! I'm excited for a bunch of reasons - namely, being able to combine some of my favorite tropes I've used before in different ways, writing something (loosely) based off one of my favorite TV shows, and maybe the most important reason of all: featuring Meredith as a major character, which I've never done before but wish I had since she's so wonderful!

If you've read my previous fics, I'd say this one is most similar to everybody wants to rule the world in terms of plot weightiness and worldbuilding. Each chapter will cover one year of their lives (with the exception of both this prologue and chapter one featuring them at age ten), finishing with the epilogue at age eighteen. I'll also provide translations for the Trigedasleng (the language from the TV show) in the endnotes, though since it's based on English, some may be self-explanatory/explained in context and will not be included.

I have no clue whether this premise will be of interest to anyone else, but I'm certainly having a good time writing it! And I don't necessarily have a set posting schedule (I'll try to post once per month) but I do have the entire thing plotted out in detail, so I promise it will be finished. Thank you so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)

Trigedasleng translations: yu gonplei stei odon - your fight is over / oso gonplei nou ste odon - our fight isn't over heda - commander / wanheda - commander of death branwoda - idiot bak op - go back / heda sei ban em op - commander says to abandon [it]

[lunaeclipse1057-ao3]

YES QUEEN FEEL LIKE YOURSELF WE LOVE YOU GET THAT BITCH'S ASSSSSS

shelby’s recent statement on twitter