#c. terran gets grumpy

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Flufftober Day 21: Alt: Caught in the Rain

Here’s today’s snippet for Flufftober. Today’s prompt was "Kiss for good luck" but I couldn't think of any way to incorporate it, so I went with the alt prompt Caught in the Rain. It comes from @flufftober 's prompt list. I’m using the characters from Syndicate. These scenes are non-canon and written simply to practice with lighter content. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future responses for this event!

--

“Walk me home?” Raymond asked, staring from the bench. He swung his scarf around him.

“I’m in the opposite direction,” I pointed out.

“Are you in a hurry to get back?” He asked, raising a eyebrow at me, and of course I wasn’t, but I should be heading back.

“No, but—“

“I don’t want to be done talking, and I’m guessing you don’t want me walking you home.”

“I don’t think you should even be in the Emerald District.”

“Exactly,” he held out a gloved hand to help me up, and it wasn’t like I needed help but I took it just to stand, then adjusted my jacket. I slid my hands into its pockets, and Raymond settled with hooking his thumbs on the pockets of his jeans.

“Do you want to take a bus or something? It’d be faster, if you really have to get back,” he asked as we fell Ito step, side by side.

I didn’t, not really. “I prefer walking.”

“I noticed you always walk,” he said.

I ran my fingers through my hair, a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, I just…”

“Safer?” he asked, glancing at me. His head looked a little small in comparison to the scarf around his neck.

“Safer, and I’m more in control,” I admitted. I wasn’t sure if it sounded dumb, I’d expressed it to jasmine before and she’d countered that it made things take way longer and you wound up exhausted.

“Makes sense. Hey, I was wondering, why didn’t you learn to drive?” I fixed my eyes on the ground ahead of me. “I don’t need to.”

“I wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything,” he said, so I must have spoken sharply. “I was just wondering, because we weren’t really friends back then, and it seems like you’d still be on control.”

There were dots on the sidewalk. I looked up, the sky had turned gray at some point. “Is it raining?”

“What?” Raymond paused and looked up and around. “I don’t think so.”

A drop hit my cheek. “Goddamnit,” I said. I looked back at him. He was still staring at the sky, his face looking concerned. Maybe hurt. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. Maybe you’re right. Zachary drives plenty, anyway.” I took a few more steps. “At least it’s only sprinkling.”

“Yeah,” he nodded and followed, didn’t speak up again. But less then a block later, the rain had gotten much heavier.

I stopped walking. “Great, it’s really raining now.” I lifted my hand to shield my eyes, looked around, but there was no where to duck for cover.”

Raymond didn’t seem to mind it, had kept walking and now turned to face me. “It’s been super dry, it’s kind of a relief,” he said, looking up to the sky. He closed his eyes for a second, letting raindrops hit his face.

My jacket was going to get wet. “I’m guessing you don’t have an umbrella?”

“You mean, you don’t in that jacket of yours?” He shot me a smile. Admittedly, I should keep an umbrella in my jacket. I shook my head.

His smiled faded, he could see my annoyance. “You can just go back, if you want.”

“You wanted me to walk you home.”

“But you can, if—“

“I’m wasting more time in the rain talking about this,” I said, and kept walking. He kept pace with me.

“So, you don’t like driving and you don’t like the rain,” he observed.

I gestured to my jacket. “This thing isn’t supposed to be in rain.”

“It’s fine,” he said.

“It’s leather.”

“You shouldn’t go swimming it it, but it can take a little rain” he thought that over. “Pretty sure.”

The rain had flattened my hair to get in my eyes. I slicked it back, out of the way. I wasn’t looking where I was going and my foot sloshed into a puddle. I cursed.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” he gave me a sympathetic look. “Wet socks suck.”

“Rain leaves tracks, and it drips everywhere.” I pointed out.

“I’ve never minded,” he said.

“It’s cold and uncomfortable.”

He was grinning, who knew why. He tucked his own wet hair back. “I like how it smells.”

“It smells fine,” I admitted. “Everything’s wet.” My sock was wet, I could feel it in my shoe, and cold droplets were sneaking down my back.

“You know, a car would protect you from the rain,” he said.

I stopped walking.

He stopped too, looking apologetic immediately. “I’m sorry. I was just joking, it’s fine. Let’s get out of the rain.”

“He didn’t want to teach me,” I said.

“He—“ confusion, then he got it. “Zachary? But— I thought he offered?”

I shook my head. “He offered to teach you.”

He bit his lip. “I—“

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, and I don’t care, I like walking.”

“Except when it’s raining.”

I looked up at the clouds again. “Except when it’s raining,” I repeated.

It was like sticking my face in a bucket of water for how quickly I was getting wet.

“Then it’s get going,” he said, and he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from looking at the sky.

He started speed-walking, glancing back to give a smile, his hand tight on min, encouraging me to keep up. I had to start a job, my other hand coming out of my pocket to help me along. “Ooh, shelter!” He called a moment later. I squinted through the rain, it was starting to get too gray and foggy to see, and Raymond suddenly changed directions.

He tugged me under an awning, pulling me close to get under the thin covering. It was hardly keeping the rain out, just keeping it out of my eyes, but in order for it to be helping any, I was very close to him.

He was grinning wildly. His hair was back in front of his face, wet and dripping, and his face was spattered with raindrops. He was still holding my hand, but as it was no longer necessary to spur my along, he released it. He glanced upwards again. “I think I’m still getting rained on.”

“Of course you are. You can’t escape it.” I was very, very close to him, which was making me forget about my wet sock.

“Oh my god! There’s a gap!” He pointed accusatorially at the gap between the wall and the fabric giving us limited shelter.

I reached a hand up, feeling droplets sneak their way in, then caught him smiling. My hand was blocking them. I kept it there.

“Okay, you win. Rain bad,” he said. I wasn’t going to contradict him, but at the very least, this was better than being in a car.

--

Flufftober Tag List (as to be +/-)

@puzzleddragon02

@sleepy-night-child

@drippingmoon

[ronill]

Listen up, lovely shippers! :) We have decided to take the chance of a new year starting and naming a Staraccuseling of the Month each month of 2018! We will introduce them and some of their work to you, so you’ll know all the lovely folks who create content for you a little better! This is also meant to encourage all of you to engage with them, get to know their work, give them some feedback, and so on! So please, enjoy! This fandom would be nothing without these dedicated people!

tumblr AO3

Introduce yourself, please! Who are you?

My name is Bonnie and I have a problem with fandom, especially the Marvel fandom and the characters within. I am not seeking treatment at the moment as I know that I can never leave. Also, I love animals and want to hug all of them (yes, all of them, even though I’d probably need some very thick armour to do so).

How and when did you get into the pairing?

“How” pretty much went like this:

@staubengel: Omg listen to this pairing idea, I’m going to ship it.

Me: Okay.

So that’s pretty much how it happened. :P Staubengel told me about her ideas for the pairing  shortly after the first GotG came out. She told me some of the head canons she came up with about them that gave them so much more depth to what was portrayed on screen. Then she started writing fics and asked me to beta and with her writing and her passions about them they also became mine and I love her for it.

What made you stay in the fandom?  

Honestly the people. We’re small, but we have fun together and while the pairing isn’t really on many people’s radar anymore, the people that are in the fandom is what keeps it going for me and my enjoyment of it.

What do you like about the pairing?

I’m a sucker for pairings that don’t usually ‘fit’ in a traditional sense, mainly the hero and the anti-hero (even though you can technically say Peter is an anti-hero as well). Peter and Ronan are so different in so many ways, but they fit together nicely when you get down to it. They kind of fill in the gaps of each other in both positive ways. I kind of think that Peter is the sunshine while Ronan is the rain and when you bring them together you get life and growth, so it’s kind of like a metaphor that these two can really be opposite at so much, yet together they work.

It’s also really fun to have the fun, positive, and happy character matched with the more serious, grumpy, and grounded character because there’s so much comedy and fun/cool situations you can put them in. The banter can sometimes be hilarious.

What was your favourite part of GotG with them in it (not necessarily together)?

The whole movie? lol Honestly it’s hard to choose, really. I mean the dance off scene will forever be a top one of mine not only because they’re both in it, but when I first saw it in theatres there was this moment of utter disbelief that something like that was just happening. It was so absurd it was hilarious. It also showed a lighter moment of Ronan that isn’t really present within the movie and his character.

Do you like your Ronan redeemed or still a fun, blue zealot?

I like my Ronan redeemed in the eyes of Peter and slowly coming to terms with it himself. I don’t know if the Kree Empire can totally forgive him, but I like that road to redemption theme where he is opened up to the possibility that there’s much more than just Hala and the Kree. I think this opens up a lot more layers to Ronan rather than him being a big, fun, blue zealot. Now don’t get me wrong there are times where him being a big, fun, blue zealot works and I like it, but overall I want a Ronan who is ‘in transition’ and whose character is not strictly ruled by his people and hate for Xandar/enemies of the Empire. The movie Ronan was just very one dimensional and we only got that view of him as a Kree zealot, so I want to explore and find out more about him as a character.

What is your favourite kink/setting/trope/AU for this pairing?

Hnnnnnnnng. Well, aside from lots of fucking I’m a sucker for Ronan being this big toughie and then either slowly or quickly falling for Peter to his utter surprise. Then comes the angst of a) them getting together because Peter’s Terran and Ronan’s Kree, b) Ronan being a Kree zealot or former zealot, c) them finally letting themselves give in to each other and they have the sexy times followed by ‘oh no, I love him.’

I’m also partial to them being alone when this happens so that there’s no major outside influence to deter them from finding each others feelings for each other.

Kink wise I’m always here for Ronan being the dom and taking Peter whenever he pleases. Peter likes it like that but always knows how to push Ronan’s buttons to make him more aggressive and a bit rougher. I don’t want Peter to be a complete sub, but when it comes to Ronan some things are good have him as the dominant. ;)

Also, bondage helps because I’m always a complete slut for that.

What kind of content to you create within the fandom? Fanfics, fanart, edits, something else?

Fanfic and edits are my main go to as I have more confidence when producing them and sharing them with others.

What is your favourite self-made content you yourself have created for this fandom?

This is a bit hard because I really do love everything I’ve done and picking one feels like I’m betraying another, but I guess my current WIP “Guardianhood” is my fave at the moment. I’m also really proud of the first chapter which is basically just 6,000+ words of Peter giving Ronan a blow job and then Ronan getting Peter off.

Tell us a bit about it! How did you come up with the idea behind that content and how did you bring it to life?

Idea was a prompt between a few friends as a birthday gift for @staubengel. What spawned after that was me starting off with having Peter and Ronan married and on their honeymoon. I liked the idea of a more quiet setting for them and the start of their new life together. Plus they could fuck in peace without having anyone banging on their door or shouting lewed things at them… for now. ;)

What other fan(s) do you admire in the fandom?

@staubengel is pretty much the person to hold the standard to as she pretty much is the mother of the fandom. Her passion, love, dedication, and creative efforts towards this fandom are no less than astonishing to behold. Honestly without her this fandom wouldn’t have gotten off the ground or if it did then it wouldn’t have gotten to the level it did. When you have a passionate person for the content it’s easy to join in and enjoy it with them because they infect your ideas and headcanons in such a good way that you just can’t stop.

While there are other amazing people in this fandom, @staubengel is pretty much the one I always am in awe of at her caring, love, and attention to them/the fandom and the people in it.

What is your favourite content someone else has created for this fandom?

I honestly cannot just pick one, because there are so many great things people have drawn, written, and made. But the thing that really got me to love StarAccuser was the fic “Stuck With You” because not only had I the privilege to beta it, I got to talk with @staubengel, the author, and really delve deep into the characters of Peter and Ronan and what  she wanted to bring to everyone. It was the first time I could see Ronan as this total 3D character rather than the more one dimensional that was in the movie.

Has the fandom affected your life in anyway?

Yes, it brought me closer to the friends I already had and brought me to new friends. I’ve met some amazing people because of this fandom. We’ve had a lot of laughs and lots of threats of never speaking to each other again because of things we come up with. We support and love each other and with that love and support I feel as if I’ve grown more as a fic writer and more confident to share what I’ve written.

Some of Fancykraken’s work on tumblr:

Fanmix: Awesome Holiday Mix Vol.1

Edit: StarAccuser movie poster

Edit: The Present is my Dick

Fanmix: Star Aküse

Edit: Eye Kink

[ravager-life-for-me]

Aim to Fire - Chapter 1

Summary:

Peter Quill goes from Cargo to Ravager. And perhaps it isn't the dad we've always wanted, but the bullet holes we gather along the way.

It's Kid Peter, it's Yondad, it's grumpy Kraglin, and some odd bunch of Ravagers. Also, Peter getting kidnapped (again) and Yondu havin to go all badass and save him, I s'pose.

Chapter 1: How Come

“Quill! Come ‘ere,” said Yondu from the entryway. He’d had a harebrained idea and before it went whistling out of his skull and into nothing, he figured he’d try something different. Had to make him useful sooner or later, ‘fore the men decided he really would make a good meal.

Quill was slumped down in a pile of rubber tubing. They kept the stuff piled up in one of the supply closets, nothing fancy, the whole mess covered in an old tarp. Built it up like a regular nest by then. Quill kicked his foot out to get a better view, betraying his secret hiding place with an errant foot. There was a perfectly good bunk in his quarters, his own quarters, too, which was a damn privilege, but the Terran always squirreled away in the closet, like he enjoyed garbage. Regular junker.

“How’d you find me?” Peter asked.

“Boy, you think I don’t know my own ship?” Yondu snapped back. “Every nook? Every cranny? Yer a damn fool if you think I didn’t figure out where you was going. Now, I said come here. I wanna show you somethin’.”

“How come?” Peter asked from his nest. He pulled the orange foam earpiece down around his neck and clicked off his Walkman, giving a bit more of his attention. He wasn’t completely dismissive of the Centaurian. Not yet.

It was only a few weeks after he’d been picked up by the aliens—abducted was the word for it, that was for sure—but they didn’t go find Quill’s father. That had been the first thing Yondu said to him after he set him down in the bright spotlight, Quill quivering and crying, snapping his head around at the strange noises. The bright light from the heavens. Peter thought his dad had come for him, come for little Star Lord just like his mom promised. If he was a being a pure light, Peter was standing in it. There were some barks, some clicks, little flicks of a big blue hand and he blinked back, trying to focus on anything. Quill didn’t understand. He squinted despite his black eye, his cheeks puffy, his throat raw from screaming back at his mom. His mom. And then, just the thought of her made him well up more, his whole face screwing up into a mess of angry tears.

“Take my hand, Peter,” she had said, rasping for air. It had been right there. Right there! Peter looked down at his own hands, ignoring everything around him. He let them come into focus before he looked up again, expecting someone like him, but older. Instead, stepping into the bright circle of light was a stocky blue man in a long red coat. He loomed over Peter. Maybe it was just the fear pickling his brain, but he was a giant! A monster! That weren’t his father. It couldn’t be! And then the big blue guy jabbed a piece behind Quill’s ear, this little sticky bit of metal that bit into his neck, and suddenly they were all speaking the same language.

“—tell him we’re taking him to his father, all right?” said the blue man. “He don’t need to know. Neither do the others. Hey, there we go. Don’t go scratching that, neither. You’ll pull it out and scramble yer brains. You hear that, Boy?”

Quill heard. He heard and he looked up then, calm, quiet, his breath catching a little in his chest. It was like a whole new world was switched on. Peter looked between the blue guy with his crisp red eyes and the greasy man beside him. Two adults. Two strangers. Peter nodded between them, hiccupping once as he ran his forearm under his nose. The blue one stepped back and then Quill leapt after him, wild. He started biting at anything soft and vulnerable he could find. Chomped down on a blue hand and started pummeling anything, kicking anything. The other guy, the human-looking one with a long stringy Mohawk and a few blue bruises on his lip, a greenish looking welt stamped on his eyebrow, hooked Quill up under his armpits and pulled. Soon Peter was swinging his feet. There was no traction and the pull on his arm sockets started to hurt, so Peter went limp.

“You got some teeth, Boy,” said the captain as he wrung his hand out next to him. “Y’see that? He broke skin!”

“That he did, sir,” answered the other man. “Don’t know if it’s advised, but we could just take out his teeth.”

“I like yer thinking, Krags.” Then the Captain got down on Quill’s level, his mouth peeling back in a cocky, shark-tooth grin. “How’s that sound, huh? You want we should yank out yer teeth? Could give you a set of chompers good as mine.” Then he chomped his teeth, once, twice, to make his point. They were sharp and fangy and at least two were coated in metal. Real villainous teeth. Quill flinched back into the gritty hands of his captor, flailing just once before he settled again. The tall human-looking one was strong. Had a tight grip on him. It all seemed pointless then. The whole fight started to melt out of him as he realized this was it. “Thought not. ‘Sides, ain’t no way we can get you new Terran teeth now. We’re practically across the galaxy from that place. And we can’t go and harm the cargo, Kraglin.”

“Shame,” said the other man, but he let Quill go. Almost dropped him too. The man called Kraglin was tall. Like, actually tall, now that Peter got a good look. And he was young too. Not, well, not young. Not a kid. But there was patchy stubble on his smooth face—smooth as it could be with a bunch of lumps. That Kraglin guy liked to get into fights too, it seemed. He looked down with his big dark eyes and gave Peter a gentle push over towards a bunk set in the wall. “Got some blankets in there, too, if’n yer cold.”

“C-Cargo?” Peter managed to get out at last, stumbling a little.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, Boy. Listen, get in that bunk, shut yer eyes, and we’ll be back on the Eclector ‘fore you can say ‘Who’s yer dad,’ alright?”

“Who is—”

But this time the Captain put his hand on Quill’s shoulder and nudged him on over to the bunk again. Right as he reached the mattress and his shin bumping a hard metal shelf, he felt something prick his neck again, right next to the little translator implant. It was almost like a mosquito sting and then he was out like a light.

*

Life changed pretty quick from there. Peter didn’t wear any colors, no flames, but he stayed on the ship and was always close by Yondu or Kraglin when there was anything to do. Not to learn, ‘course. They weren’t going to teach him jack. But he cleaned what they told him to, he kept his eye on everything, he picked up a few tricks for the nav systems when he was on the bridge. Sure, he slipped up a few times. Dropped parts. Got in someone’s way. Got a boot to his back more times than he could count. So he threw a few punches, got in some scraps. He could fight.  Maybe he couldn’t fight with aliens, specially some of the really big guys. They threatened to eat him seven times in a week! With their giant flapping mouths, Peter thought they really could eat him and he shook in his too-big-boots every time someone threatened him.

But sometimes he was tired. He was tired of all the aliens, the weird, the new. He just wanted to listen to his music, please, just a little bit, just to remember his mom’s voice and hold his hand up over his eyes, not crying or anything, but just thinking about it. That’s when he found the closet. Once the eight cycles were over when he was supposed to be scrubbing the bridge or following Tullk around the bulkhead or tighting screws on the bridge, Peter would find his closet and curl up on the rubber tubing. It was comfortable. It was dark. And, most important, it was quiet. Peter didn’t think anybody knew about it. He’d never once been interrupted when he hid there, going through his tape a few times before he crawled out and returned to his bunk near Yondu’s quarters.  

Since he was so tired and emotionally stretched, Peter let it slip out. “How come,” he had said, not thinking, just saying it like that. “How come?” It looked like it went over with Yondu about as well as he’d expected.

“How come?” Yondu asked. He turned, hands on his hips as he blocked out the light from the corridor. He didn’t threaten it, but the Yaka arrow was visible and Peter kept an eye out for the familiar red flash atop the Centaurian’s head. “A captain tells you to do something, you don’t say ‘how come.’ You say ‘Yes, sir.’ How come my ass. You a part of this crew or what?”

“No,” Peter shot back. He was already in up to his neck, why not just swim straight for the deep end already. “I’m not!”

“What’chu say?”

“I’m not. Yesterday you said I was cargo. You said—”

“Oh, hells with that ‘cargo’ shit,” Yondu answered, waving the sentiment away. He squinted into the dark room, his red eyes aglow. “We may a picked you up from Terra for a snack, but you ain’t cargo. Now, getcher ass up outta there ‘fore I say so again. I’m gonna teach you something.”

“Teach me? What?” Peter asked, squirming out of the garbage.

Once he was up, he grabbed the raggedy flannel that had been uniform since he’d been abducted. There was the old black sweater that smelled like crude oil that Kraglin shared with him, but that was about it. Yondu said, as soon as they had time, they’d outfit him with something proper. Until then, Peter was gonna have to make due.

“Teach me what?” Peter asked again as he trailed behind.

“Don’t ask again, son, ‘fore I change my mind,” Yondu growled over his shoulder, stomping on the grimy grated floor down towards the hangar.

Kraglin Obfonteri was lounging in a mostly empty hangar bag, minding his own with his feet propped up on a dead control panel. The thing was on the fritz after Scrote decided to pull out all the wires one drunken evening and make himself a wig, trying to prove a point. What that point was, neither he nor Scrote could rightly remember, but they figured they’d repair the thing before anybody got wise. Kraglin was propped on it then as said reminder. There was a cold metal bowl resting on his chest, propped there with one hand as he slurped up some blue fowl thing into his mouth. He was humming around each bite while one of his feet was twitching to an audio file buzzing from a thin earpiece pressed up on the side of his head, clipped into his earlobe by a coppery wire. He’d replicated the songs from the Terran’s mix tape. That little Walkman was Peter’s life and Kraglin came up with the idea of copying the music, just in case something dire were to occur.

“Wouldn’t want you to lose it nothing, hey, Pete?” Kraglin asked, talking nice and slow as he knelt down in front of Peter who had his knuckles sucked up to his mouth like his teeth might fall out. Two of them already had. Yondu thought his threat had come through by sheer force of will, but the Doc informed him that Terrans had a second row behind their first and it was just pushing them baby teeth out of the way. Nothing crazy like the rows of teeth a Scavarian might have, but still. “And, see?” said Kraglin. “It’s all good. How’s that?”

Peter had snatched his tape back with quick greedy hands. He was faster than Kraglin expected. That was a good sign. The kid was going to have to be quick out in space. Quill turned the tape over and over, peering at it up close and personal like, reading every spec of it, every scratch, every ding. He was practically reverent of the thing. Kraglin’d done good by ripping the audio files.  When Peter slid the tabe back into his Walkman and tentatively placed his headphones back around his head, he just about melted to the sound that came through, as clean and clear as it had been back on Terra.

“See?”

“Thanks, Kraglin,” Peter said breathlessly.

Kraglin almost ruffled Peter’s hair then. Almost. He’d never gotten particularly close to the cargo before. There’d been no need, of course. All of them who’d passed through were with them a couple of cycles. But Peter wasn’t…Kraglin didn’t think of it, that’s what. He knew Yondu didn’t need to be reminded, so he just took that weird little sentiment and clamped it down by chewing the inside of his cheek. He clapped his knees and stood up, whistling a pathetic Ravager tune as he went back to his duties.

Nobody had asked him to. Nobody said Yondu was coming by with his Terran, but Kraglin had put on the audio file and was just then tapping his toes gently to Blue Suede Shoes, like it was the most natural thing in the galaxy. Then his captain came up on him and barked out “Kraglin, my M-ship ready? I’m taking us down to Mondar for a bit.”

Kraglin didn’t skip a beat. He just slurped on his ration and asked, “How come?”

“How come?” Yondu repeated back.

Peter giggled.

“Oh, y’think that’s funny, then, huh? ‘How come?’ I hear someone ask me ‘How come’ one more time, I’m blowing all the airlocks outta this joint!”

Peter swallowed and put on a straight face. Yondu slapped Kraglin’s feet off the console and grabbed his rations, chucking them clear across the hangar where the metal dish clanged against an M-ship. It bounced off as harmless as a flea. More harmless, maybe, since fleas bite and that metal bowl didn’t do shit.

“Hey,” Kraglin whined, but was quick to acknowledge his captain’s anger. “I mean. Yes’ sir. Straight down to Mondar. You, uh, you lookin’ for something particular, or this just a scouting mission?”

“Target practice,” Yondu said, making sure to enunciate every letter with vicious, biting precision. “And get Umber and Zu up here, too. Could be good to have a few extra hands.”

“Extra eyes, I s’pect,” said Kraglin.

“Ain’t that why I asked for ‘em?” Yondu snapped.

“Yes, sir, Captain.”

Kraglin pumped his fist against his chest, two strikes, before he went off and made quick work of his start up procedures. He prepped the nearby M-ship. It’s bright hull gleamed in the low hangar lights and despite the dings, the fire burns, the grease, it was as beautiful as ever. Yondu stood center stage in the hangar as hisman got everything ready, waiting for the two octolops to scurry up from their shift in the engine room. Peter waited nearby, watching Kraglin work, admiring how Yondu made anyone step in line.

“What’d you mean about target practice?” Peter asked, pinching at the end of his sleeves and balling them into his fists before he wrapped himself up.

“Mean what I said,” Yondu answered. He nodded and ducked under his ship, helping with the fuel line. He touched the small of Kraglin’s back, nodded at him and flicked his head back. Kraglin didn’t smile, exactly, but there was a little crinkle in his eyes as he scurried on over.

“What’s he mean about target practice?” Peter asked, trailing after the lanky Xandarian. “Kraglin? Should I be worried?”

“Always, Pete,” Kraglin answered in his offhand way. He had skipped over to the other side of the hangar and rummaged around in one of the crates. He finally grabbed what he was looking for and dragged it out, shaking it a few times. “Here it is. Hey, take this.”

Kraglin presented a tough red leather jacket. There weren’t any flames on it, not on the sleeves, certainly not on his chest where a ranking officer might keep his. The kid hadn’t earned that yet. But it was the same tough leather that the other Ravagers wore. Same stitching. Same rusty red. Kraglin held it up again, nodded at the size of it, and tossed it over to Peter without ceremony. It was too big. It gapped on his shoulders, went down past his fingertips. His neck was swimming between the lapels. But Peter’s mom said he was always growing so fast. He could hear her say it then. He could feel her gently touch his face and say, “You’re getting so big, baby. Won’t be so little anymore, Star Lord.” Peter worked a lump out of his throat. He wished, for a moment, that he could show her his cool new jacket and tell her about all the crazy weird things he’d seen, but the thought just burned in him and made his stomach hurt. Yondu was already in a mood, neither dark nor joyful, and Peter wasn’t sure what would tip him one way or the other, so he decided to swallow his feelings and stand aside.

The octolops, Umber and Zu, were twins that they’d picked up from a raid out near Haderfast. They were bipedal, sure, two legs, two arms, thin skin that was dark and streaked with red lines. Peter didn’t know if the lines were just how octolops looked or if they were tattoos like Kraglin had all over his chest. But they had eight eyes that blinked up and down their foreheads and a beak that looked like it could tear out Peter’s throat without trying. Neither of them had threatened him. Not to eat him, not to fight him, nothing. They were quiet, but Peter still took a cautionary step back, putting some distance and a well-placed Yondu between him and the aliens. Yondu may be blue and a mean sonuvabitch, but he had just the two eyes.

“How you feel about going off ship to keep a lookout while I teach our youngest here how to shoot a blaster?” Yondu asked the octolops twins. He asked as a kindness, really. They were quick to pound their fist to their chests in a two-thump salute before they ran over to help Kraglin under the heavy latch of the grav-line couplers. “See that? That’s how you do it, Boy.”

“They didn’t say ‘sir’ or ‘captain’ either,” Peter mumbled. Yondu looked down at him, his face in profile, his big eye peeking from a scarred cheek. Peter quickly added, ‘Can’t be translated, though, I guess.”

“Yer just not listening,” Yondu said. “That little translator chip we put in you doesn’t pick up their tongue. Not well. But it’s like Centaurian.” Yondu clicked something like a staccato command, three groups of noises. Three words, maybe. Umber and Zu turned back and waved. “Close enough. Accent gets in the way sometimes. But maybe they don’t talk to you cause you’re a whiny one-language speaking shit. You think of that?”

“No,” Peter mumbled. He’d been excited to get off the ship and learn something new, but now it seemed that the captain just wanted to verbally abuse him all day. He’d get plenty of that just doing his duties onboard. He wished he was back in his supply closet again.

“Don’t mope, son,” said Yondu, and clapped him on his shoulder. Usually it hurt. Yondu wasn’t gentle, he didn’t hold back as far as Peter could tell, but the red leather jacket helped take some of the blow and Peter only staggered a little. “You boys ready to go shootin’?”

“Yes, sir!” Kraglin answered, and the two octolops clicked something, giving Yondu another two-thump salute.

“Hey,” Yondu said, and shook Peter, patting him again before he led him over to the M-ship. “You ready?”

“Yes,” Peter answered, felt a squeeze near the base of his neck, and added, “Yes, sir.”

But as they climbed the plank up into the M-ship, Peter started to feel some of the thrill return. He hadn’t been off ship since they first took him from home. There were plenty of different species on the Eclector. Ravagers picked up anybody that was good at thieving and followed The Code, as Yondu put it. But Peter had never seen another planet besides Earth. He smiled, despite himself, and felt some excitement build in his chest as Yondu took his captain’s seat in the cockpit, Kraglin in his copilot and the twins strapped down behind him. Peter looked around, wondering where to go. He almost went and sat on the shelf where Yondu made him sleep when he was first abducted before Yondu snapped his fingers and told Peter to come over. He grabbed the boy off the ground without any effort and sat him there on his lap. Told him to hold tight as he punched in the start-up sequence and took the M-ship out into space.