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joaquinwhorres · 6 years ago

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Bottle Rockets (Sweet Pea x Reader)

Summary: You don't need feelings. You don't need friends. You need to stop obsessing over the fact that Sweet Pea is spending his summer with Josie instead of lighting bottle rockets with you.

Based on Request: hello!! could you maybe write something where the reader was a northsider friends with sweet pea and he kind of ignored her while he was with Josie for the summer and now the reader is ignoring him and he's feeling miserable because he misses his friend (and maybe has actual feelings for her)? thank you 💚

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 14,976

Author’s Note: This goes so far beyond the original request, but I started writing it, and the story just took life. I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it. [Insert normal begging/plea for feedback in asks and reblog form]. Also, I tried to capture some of the Sweet Pea we saw flirting with Josie. Hopefully, there was some success.

Warnings: Language (there's always language). Underage drinking. Minor jokes about killing yourself (because of boredom). References to sex.

When it came down to it, it was all the Black Hood’s fault.

If it weren’t for him, the town wouldn’t have been so on edge and quick to shut down Southside High, ignoring years of hostility and prejudice and throwing over half of the student body into the already crowded halls of Riverdale High.

And while that itself was less than ideal, the situation would have at least been manageable if The Black Hood hadn’t murdered Midge. Because that changed everything.

That led to Fangs Fogarty getting arrested. Which prompted Ms. Klump to shoot Fangs. Which incited the riots and all of that wreckage. Which landed you in the seat next to Sweet Pea for the remainder of Physics.

The first day of the new seating arrangement came with little warning or fanfare—unless of course, you counted the fact that the trophy case was still cordoned off with caution tape and pretty much the entire student body all slipped on Southside Serpent jackets yesterday under threat of death from Veronica Lodge and Cheryl Blossom.

But still.

Walking into physics with your teacher mumbling “Your new seat is on the board—as if he knew he was about to cause the Riots - Part 2–was the first indication that shit was about to go down. Looking at the list of names, with you being placed towards the back right corner and seated next to a kid whose name you did not recognize should have been your second clue. Because you knew everyone who was supposed to be in this class. And maybe if you'd used a little bit of deductive reasoning, you would have known who you were sitting next to before the hulking mountain of flannel and leather dropped into the seat next to you.

"This is bullshit," he grumbled, slamming his books on the table and pushing them up out of his way.

It was Sweet Pea. Of all the people in this class, you were sat next to the angriest one of all. The one who hated Northsiders with every fiber of his being. So much so that he threw a trashcan through the trophy case.

And whose best friend was shot by his classmate's mom, a little voice inside your head reminded you.

You ignored her, as you normally did when she brought up irrelevant or otherwise inconvenient facts.

"What?" he growled turning to meet your gaze.

You blinked twice, unaware that you had been staring at him and shook your head giving what you hoped was a casual shrug. "I just didn't know that your name was--"

"Sweet Pea." His brow furrowed even more than it had a second ago making his face even darker if that was possible. "My name is Sweet Pea."

You rolled your eyes and looked back up to the front, your eyes landing on the projected seating chart once more.

The rest of physics passed by in silence between the two of you, Sweet Pea keeping his head bent close to his notes and you keeping your eyes trained on Mr. Flutesnoot so you didn't take note of any of the other empty chairs in the classroom.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern as the first day. You arrived first and took your seat. Sweet Pea arrived a little later and dropped angrily into his. The two of you would silently complete your work, pack up as quickly and quietly as possible when the bell rang and then dash off to your last class of the day.

It wasn’t until the second week of the new seating arrangement that things took a turn. When you walked into the class, all eyes were on you. You walked down the center aisle to your seat, still feeling the eyes of your classmates on your back. It wasn't until you took your seat and looked up at the board that you understood why they were staring at you.

On the board, in Mr. Flutesnoot's scrawling handwriting were two words: bottle rockets.

Your stomach clenched as you took hold of your pencil, opening up to a blank piece of notebook paper and staring fixated ahead, your face stony. Because of this, you noticed Sweet Pea enter the classroom and the way that everyone's eyes seemed to flick from you to him. "This is gonna be good," Alex Cabot whispered behind you. Hushed snickers dotted the classroom, and this didn't go unnoticed by Sweet Pea. He scowled at row after row of students as he passed them on his way to you. The look did nothing of course, not even dissuading the oggling as he dropped into the seat next to yours.

You looked over at him and then put your eyes back onto your paper as the bell rang. Mr. Flutesnoot came back into the classroom. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen," he grinned and you rolled your eyes. He always seemed like an announcer whenever he was starting class. "I hope you're ready for our final lab of the year."

"Unit-Bomber is," Cabot snickered. "She's been waiting for this day all year."

"Probably ready to finish off the school," his partner, Fletcher Foley, added and the two boys chuckled.

“And I bet her partner is just dying to help her.”

“They still haven’t repaired the banner he cut.”

You picked up your pen, grinding the tip down into your desk. Keep your mouth shut, you chanted in your head. They're not worth it. Keep your mouth shut. They're not worth it. You continued to chant it throughout Mr. Flutesnoot's instructions and mini-lesson on factors to consider during the design stage.

"Alright, talk to your partners and discuss. What materials are you going to use? Play with the simulators to design the nose cone and wings and any other modifications you may want to make. Yes, Mr. Cabot?"

"We can't make this into an actual rocket right. Like, substitute real gas for water?"

Mr. Flutesnoot narrowed his eyes in confusion as you pressed your pen tip even harder into the desk. "No, you can't use rocket fuel."

"Well there goes the Unit-Bomber's big plans," Cabot snickered. You slammed your pen down and turned to Sweet Pea.

"So, any ideas?" you asked, sort of breathless. He jerked a little in his seat eyeing you, as if suddenly aware that you were about to go off at any second.

He shrugged his shoulders with a small shake of his head, and you gave a tight-lipped smile, pulling a laptop in between the two of you. "Why don't you play with the simulation, and I'll research what materials will work the best?"

"She has to tell him what to do because he's too stupid to actually understand directions," the voice came from behind you.

You watched as Sweet Pea's face went suddenly white and then dark, a snarl growing on his face and his fist clenching. If he had been a bit faster, he might have threatened to rip their throats out if they didn't cut the shit or some other kind of barbaric and totally justifiable punishment.

But he wasn't as fast as you

"Hey, so, if you're going to talk shit about us, can you at least try to keep it down a little?" you asked, your voice a vitriolic sort of cheery. "Or, I don't know, make it vaguer who you're talking about? We just get kind of distracted by how bad you are at it."

The rage was wiped away from Sweet Pea's face, replaced with a suspicious confusion.

The two boys behind you looked at each other as if trying to decide who would respond to your constructive criticism of their assholery.

"Ok, you're confused. Umm, quick tips--" you started, hearing the classroom around you gradually grow quieter. "When you're talking about someone behind their back it usually means that they can't hear you. Not that you're literally behind their back."

Foley's face was now completely blank. Cabot looked kind of annoyed.

"And if you were trying to bully us, you usually don't target a gang member who can beat the shit out of you. So cliff notes version: shut the fuck up."

"Ms. L/N!" your teacher reprimanded.

"Sorry, Mr. Flutesnoot,” you apologized, turning back in your chair to focus on the work.

"Freak," one of the boys muttered.

"Just one more quick thing," you turned back around. "Your material's old. The whole Unit-Bomber thing is last year. This year I'm the weird bitch who does shit like this--sorry, Mr. Flutesnoot--and also, hating the Serpents and Southsiders died with the Black Hood. So if you can stop distracting my lab partner with your mediocre middle school bitching, that would be great."

Silence followed as the class waited to see if and how they would respond.

"Are you finished Ms. L/N?" Mr. Flutesnoot asked, crossing his arms.

"I think so. You got anything?" you asked, turning to Sweet Pea. He shook his head. "You guys?" Cabot flicked a finger. You swiveled back to face your rather put-out looking science teacher. "I'm sorry, I don't think it'll happen again."

Mr. Flutesnoot nodded. "Right, well. The next person who starts it back up is going to find themselves in Mr. Weatherbee's office."

"Ok," you agreed before turning back to Sweet Pea who was looking at you as if you'd suddenly turned into a werewolf or had just started speaking Dothraki or something. "So you're good with the simulator?"

"Yeah," he agreed, and the two of you began work.

To some extent, you expected there to be some kind of blowback from you snapping in class yesterday. Earlier in the year, a freshman had snapped on a group of juniors, and the phone footage had gone viral, spawning the hashtag #thehallsarenotyourplayground (which coincidentally had made quite the resurgence when the Serpents rolled into town).

So, you were fairly surprised that aside from a few whispers and the casual wide-eyed look from people who were in your science class, no one brought it up. It didn’t become a thing. The was no hashtag.

If you had to guess it was mostly because everyone else was sick of Cabot’s shit too and there were bigger and better things to whisper about.

Betty Cooper’s dad was the fucking Black Hood.

Veronica’s jailbird father was first gentleman of Riverdale.

Some weird shit had been going on in Greendale.

And Betty Cooper’s dad was the fucking Black Hood.

So, by the time you walked into science class at the end of the day, it was hardly surprising that Foley and Cabot glared darkly at you and the rest of the class watched vigilantly as you walked down the aisle to take your seat, only to find other things to direct their attention at when no words passed between you and Cabot.

You quietly went about drawing your notebook from your backpack, flipping the pages to find the notes you jotted down yesterday. Both you and Sweet Pea had made good headway on your specific tasks. In fact, so far Sweet Pea hadn't really needed any hints or oversight from you. You had given him control of the simulations primarily because you already knew exactly what shapes are the best, but he had come to similar conclusions on his own. One day and you were beginning to think that this partnership may actually work out; you wouldn't have to take over the project and do it all by yourself as per usual.

A stack of books dropped into the table signaling Sweet Pea's arrival.

"Hey," he greeted and you glanced up at him, your brows furrowed in slight confusion.

"Uh hey," you said still staring at him suspiciously. Greetings were not part of the normal. In all honesty, talking wasn't part of the normal.

He nodded before sitting down, looking as content as if the two of you had carried out a whole conversation as opposed to three words. Oooookay then, you thought to yourself, turning back to your notebook as Mr. Flutesnoot began class with the reminder that today was your last day of building the rocket and on Monday you would do launches. He finished his spiel, walking over to his desk to his usual hiding spot behind his computer.

You slid out of your stool without a word to Sweet Pea and walked to the front table, perusing the different materials and selecting the ones closest to what your research turned up.

"You know students used to set off real model rockets," Cabot said casually, sidling up beside you and grabbing the same material you had just grabbed for your fins. "Now they can't even trust us with matches because of you."

You rolled your eyes, picking up some masking tape. "I didn't use matches," you mumbled.

He snorted, bumping into you as he picked up some masking tape as well. "I'm still surprised they let you back. Then again, it seems like now Riverdale will let anyone walk through its doors. Bombmaker. Drug dealers. Gang members. I bet they'd even let that murderer back if Ms. Klump hadn't shot him."

You dropped the masking tape, picking up some duct tape instead as you glared at him. He smiled smugly. "Just stating facts," he said lightly, exchanging his masking tape for duct tape.

"Someday someone's going to kick your ass, and I can't wait to stand there and watch."

"Is that a threat?" Cabot asked, watching as you turned on your heel and headed back for your chair.

"Just stating facts," you threw over your shoulder. Besides, you thought to yourself. If I was going to threaten you, I would point out just how easy it is to torch someone's car.

You arrived back at your seat, slamming the materials down on the table. Sweet Pea looked up at you from his work with a questioning glance. "You good?" he asked.

"Fine. Ready to work," you answered, shaking off the comment and the strange feeling that came from Sweet Pea actually noticing your frustration this time. He nodded but didn't look entirely convinced until his eyes fell on Cabot making his way back to the table behind you. His face darkened, but you didn't have time for his anger issues. "Can I see what you've got?" you asked, pointing to the notebook. He nodded, pushing it over to you so that you could read it more easily.

As expected, all of his conclusions were accurate. "Good call with the fins," you said, nodding. "Not a lot of people think about making them different sizes in the simulator."

Sweet Pea furrowed his brow at you for a second before you scrawled onto the edge of his paper. Fucking with them. You drew an arrow pointing back at Cabot and Foley who had gone suspiciously quiet behind you, the same way they had all year whenever it came to listening in on your work with whoever your partner was. Sure, it was perfectly fine to treat you like shit, but you always listened to the girl who knew enough to get you a free day in science class. It wasn't incompetence that got you the name Unit-Bomber and everyone knew it.

Sweet Pea nodded, his lips quirking up into a distant relative of a smile. "Thanks."

"So, you cut these two the same size, and I'll cut the other ones into the short and the long one," you grinned back. Sweet Pea took the material from you and began tracing the shape he'd researched as you waited for the scissors and the pieces he was cutting to make them the same size.

You heard the whispers of Cabot and Foley behind you followed by the quick scratching out of something in a notebook.

"Perfect triangles?" Sweet Pea asked, holding up the fins for only you to see.

"Perfect triangles," you smiled. Taking one and using it to trace the pattern of the remaining two fins. There was more whispered argument behind you, and a devilish grin crossed your face. Sweet Pea shared the look.

Physics had just gotten fun again.

It felt like ever since they caught the real Black Hood, the student body of Riverdale High found any reason to party.

AP testing was over? Party to celebrate your brains no longer being molten lava.

Dr. Johnson went home sick today? Party to celebrate a sub tomorrow.

Kelly Gordon got a new haircut? Party to show it off.

Student Body President elections right around the corner? Party to influence the vote.

That was how you ended up in Cheryl Blossom's house at ten o'clock on a Saturday night with a beer in hand. You’d had a flyer shoved into your hand by Veronica Lodge, and with nothing better to do, you’d decided that after the Black Hood maybe you were someone who went to parties.

But even if you had suddenly become someone who went to parties, you still weren't the girl in the middle of the dance floor laughing and screaming and surrounded by a large group of friends.

You stood off to the edges of the dance floor, close to the speaker, attempting to give yourself permanent hearing loss and maybe destroy your liver while you were at it. It was easy to lose yourself in the base--to let it take control of your heartbeat and run through your blood along with the liquor. It only took half an hour for you to stop thinking about the sound waves and frequencies and to just have fun like a normal teenage girl out at a party.

You let yourself go until you finished your second beer, and you departed from the safety of your spot for a refill.

It would have been nice if you really had blown out your hearing.

Because maybe then, when you made your way out of the living room, you wouldn't have heard Ginger Lopez' not-so-quiet comment.

"She invited the Unit-Bomber?"

You paused, your grip around your beer can tightening.

"You know what they say," Tina Patel smirked, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Every vote counts."

"I don't know, I think they could do without one," Ginger snickered and Tina laughed.

"Someone should keep an eye on her. The last thing Cheryl needs is having another house burn down."

You took a deep breath and started moving again, making sure to bump shoulders with a laughing Tina as you passed by. Based on the screams that followed in your wake, her drink had sloshed into at least one of them. You grinned, moving deeper into the house where hopefully the proportion of bitches was smaller.

Thankfully, it seemed like it was. While still heavily populated, everyone in the kitchen was for the most part too far gone or pre-occupied to worry about the black sheep in their midst. You headed over to the table where drinks were piled. On your way, Ben Button was pushed sideways, bumping into you so that you stumbled into the tall figure standing next to the drinks table.

"Shit, sorry," you mumbled, looking up at the figure who turned around and peered down at you. Your eyes widened slightly with shock, seeing Sweet Pea frowning at you. Taking in your face, his shoulders relaxed a little and his brow smoothed.

"Could have just said hey." It was hard to tell if he was teasing you or angry based on the look on his face. He wasn't smiling, and his eyebrows were raised.

"Hey," you greeted, tentatively, reaching behind him to grab another beer.

"Hey," he answered, turning to face you fully. The people next to him moved away a little and your gaze fell back on him. He looked down at you expectantly as if you really had run into him on purpose and now had to carry a conversation.

"So you’re supporting Andrews now?" you asked with an eyebrow raised.

Sweet Pea shrugged. "Toni invited me."

"Forced you to come, you mean." You immediately regretted the snarky and weird way the words sounded falling from your lips. He didn't seem phased at all but shook his head slightly with a shrug.

"What about you? Don't strike me as an Andrews fan."

"I came to be swayed. You know, see what my vote was worth," you nodded, taking a swig of your drink.

"And it's worth....this party?"

You shrugged. "Better than a cupcake."

He snorted and shook his head at you. A silence settled between you two, not altogether uncomfortable but not exactly companionable either.

"Well, don't let me keep you from your friends," you said, taking a step backward.

He rolled his eyes. "Topaz left with Blossom a while ago. I think they're upstairs." And Fangs was still in recovery. "But I guess you should get back to your friends."

You shrugged. "I came alone." There was a pause as his brow furrowed lightly and he gave a slight nod in response to the statement. "I don't need moral support to get drunk and dance," you added, punctuating the statement with a sip of your beer.

He snorted again, and you grinned, basking in the warm feeling of triumph. You had made Sweet Pea, The Angry Gangster, laugh. Twice.

This time, he fully nodded, his eyes running over your body. "So, since neither of us has any friends to get back to, maybe we should stick together? It might make this party a little less...shitty."

"This party is far from shitty," you scoffed. "Free booze. Decent music. And just enough jingle jangle to make most of the people here not assholes. This is as good as it gets on the Northside. Besides," you took a few steps away from him, heading back towards the music. "I'm happy being by myself. See you later."

He raised his drink as a goodbye, and you turned around, taking a sip of yours to try to keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

It took about twenty minutes for you to realize that Sweet Pea may have been onto something when he said the party was shitty.

It was a gradual shift. The music got louder, and the bodies got a little bit closer, pushing in at all sides until you couldn't help but brush up against somebody every time you danced. Everyone's eyes were glazed. Girls' voices got higher pitched, and boys spoke less. A bad feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach, but it wasn't until you felt the cool trickle of beer dripping down your arm from where someone had just sloshed their drink on you as they tried to pass that you realized this party was no longer the best the Northside had to offer. You turned your arm in front of you, looking down to assess the damage only to realize you didn't have a napkin. You heaved a suffering sigh, staring up at the sky before bringing your eyes back down to the party and catching Sweet Pea's gaze. You placed two fingers to your head, cocked the makeshift gun and pulled the trigger, your head jerking to the side with the force of the imaginary bullet.

A smile crossed Sweet Pea's lips as he tipped some of his beer onto the ground. You smiled as well before turning and heading closer to the speaker system and proverbial higher ground.

It was only fifteen minutes until the next hint that this party had taken a downward turn. While shattering your eardrums seemed inevitable, the earsplitting music seemed to keep most of the drunks away and provide you with a little room to breathe. You were even managing to enjoy yourself once again. And then your eyes landed on Sweet Pea.

Or rather, your eyes landed on the blonde girl who was writhing all over the front of his body. Every time he backed away she would follow, too far gone to process the rejection, judging by the way she couldn't keep her head up and her hips couldn't quite match the tempo of the music. He looked up with a face of disgust that melted away for the most part when he caught your gaze. Instead, he lifted a fist and pounded it into his chest several times before his head lolled to the side. You laughed at the brutal stabbing scene before dragging your attention away to continue dancing.

You managed to stick it out for almost another full twenty minutes before suddenly the song that was blasting out of the speaker next to you turned to "Shots."

You swore loudly. Not loudly enough to be heard over the dulcet does of LMFAO, but loudly enough for a drunk girl to look at you as if you were crazy. Your eyes quickly scanned the crowd and it seemed like his must have been too because you found Sweet Pea's gaze in record time. You threw back an imaginary shot before clutching your throat and slowly sinking down into the crowd. When you rose back up he was smiling. He jerked his head towards the kitchen, and despite the fact that you were moderately enjoying your time alone, you found your feet leading you off of the dance floor.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he already had two shots in his hand--courtesy of a wasted Reggie Mantle--and passed one to you.

"So maybe you knew what you were talking about when you said this party was going to be shitty if we didn’t stick together," you said, clinking your glass to his and throwing it back. The cheap Vodka burned on the way down, but it numbed you a little to the party.

“Of course I was.” He hadn’t even winced at his shot. He plucked the cup out of your hand, putting it back on the counter and grabbing two beers instead, passing one to you.

You cracked the can open, taking a sip—a watery chaser to the burning liquor. “Well,” you gasped slightly as you finished your drink. “At least you got the true Northside experience before it imploded.”

“Imploding isn’t the Northside experience?” Sweet Pea quirked an eyebrow.

“Aw," you put a hand over your heart. "You get us."

He exhaled a laugh, taking a drink, and a small silence settled between the two of you. “So, you still happy by yourself?" Sweet Pea asked.

You raised your eyebrows. "You know when you say it like that, it almost sounds like an innuendo.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he just inclined his head towards you.

You offered half a smile, shaking your head. "I'm always happy on my own. Not sure if you picked up on this in physics, but I’m not exactly a people person.”

“I don’t know, I thought it was generous of you to try to help Cabot and Foley out with their rocket,” he offered straight-faced.

You smirked and gave a casual shrug as you took a sip of what was essentially alcoholic tap water. “Anyway, I think you’re better off without me hanging around. You seem like you’ve been having a pretty good time on your own.”

He stared at you blankly.

“I saw you having a blast with Heather.” His face dropped and you burst into laughter. “Not into Northside girls?”

“Not girls like that,” Sweet Pea answered flatly.

“Shame, she seemed to really like you,” you pushed. “You’ll break her heart.”

“She’s not even going to remember any of it tomorrow.”

“I mean, that is kind of the point of drinking at parties,” you said, toasting him before downing the rest of your beer. His eyes narrowed slightly as he seemed to give you an assessing kind of look. You slammed your can down onto the counter.

“Well, I’m going to take off. Leave before the cops come,” you announced.

"Need a ride?" He asked, and you tipped your head sharply to give him a questioning look. He was staring down at you with an almost challenging look. You squinted your own eyes attempting to size up the offer.

Accept a ride home from a Southside Serpent? Bad idea.

Accept a ride home from your lab partner? Not as bad.

Accept a ride home from Sweet Pea?

You shook your head. "I’m sure you can guess what I’m about to say.”

“You’re good on your own?” He guessed disbelieving.

You gave him finger guns and to be honest you weren’t even sure you could blame it on the drinks. “I can walk from here,” you said, straightening back up.

"By yourself at this time at night?"

"Survived the Black Hood, so I’m feeling lucky. Besides if someone kills me it saves me the trouble of the massive hangover I'm destined to have tomorrow."

Sweet Pea shook his head slightly, his lips quirking into his almost smile. "See you on Monday, then."

"Maybe," you threw over your shoulder. This time you didn't even bother to hide the smile.

Your walk home was uneventful. As a result, the weekend was swallowed up by a massive hangover on Saturday and rushing to do all of your homework on Sunday. By the time school came around Monday morning you hardly felt ready or rested and judging by the other zombies roaming the halls of Riverdale High, the rest of the student population was in a similar situation.

The day passed in a slow and dull sort of misery.

Until physics.

“Grab your rocket and then line up by the door, we’re going out to the field.” Mr. Flutesnoot greeted. The majority of your chemistry class was already along the wall, and you headed to the back to grab your rocket and join the rest of the class.

Scanning down the line you looked over the different versions of rockets. Some basic but functional and colorful. Others sleek and potentially good enough to give yours a run for its money. And a few were true disasters.

Among this category was Cabot and Foley’s. Because not only had they listened to every last sabotaged direction that you and Sweet Pea has given them, but they hadn’t even followed them well.

The thing had triangle fins of three different sizes and slightly varying shapes. The weight was focused in the bottom of the rocket and the nose cone was sharply pointed. Sweet Pea had tried to get them to cut holes in the rocket, but realizing that'd be taking it a bit too far and even Cabot and Foley weren't that stupid, you'd corrected him. That said, when he had them tape the whole thing with several layers of duct tape, you'd shrugged and let it go.

“Grab your rocket and then line up by the door, we’re going out to the field.” Mr. Flutesnoot said from the entrance of the classroom. You looked up from the line, your eyes falling on Sweet Pea who was scanning the line for you.

You held up, Ophiocus, and he caught sight of your green bottle, coming down to stand next to you.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” you answered. He looked no worse for wear than usual. His hair curled above his eye in the way it usually did, and the dark circles that had been under his eyes ever since the riot seemed fainter if anything.

“How was your weekend?”

“Well, I’m here and breathing so you can guess how Saturday went,” you quipped. “You?”

“‘S fine.”

The bell rang and you waited for the sound to die down before you continued the conversation, but before you could get a word in, Mr. Flutesnoot started. “Alright, out to the field. Remember I expect you to walk through the halls quietly and respectfully.” You rolled your eyes but quietly trudged out behind the rest of your class.

“Did you see their rocket?” you murmured to Sweet Pea. He shook his head, stepping out from the line and craning his neck a little to see it. It wasn’t until the line turned to go out the side door that his eyes lit up and he fell back into step with you.

“You’re vicious.”

“I can’t wait to see it fly.” You flashed a crocodile smile.

Luckily you didn’t have to wait long. Their rocket was selected among the first ones to go, and when they brought it up for launch even Mr. Flutesnoot winced at the sight of it. When he backed up to set off the rocket you reached out and grabbed Sweet Pea’s bicep, squeezing it tightly in excitement. He looked down at you, and if your eyes hadn’t been fixated on the rocket that was about to go up, you might have noticed the warm amusement on his face.

“3-2-1,” you chanted along with the rest of the class.

The rocket made it up just a couple of feet before making a hard tilt and crashing down into the ground.

It was the worst one so far. And while the rest of the class giggled lightly at it, you roared with laughter at the looks of shock and confusion on their face, doubling over and clutching your sides.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Mr. Flutesnoot admonished.

“I’m sorry,” you straightened, wiping the tears from your eyes and shutting your mouth to keep the next burst of laughter in at the looks of sudden realization and anger that flashed across their faces. “I know they worked hard on it,” you added trying to suppress a smile. Next to you, Sweet Pea snorted.

“Alright, well, let’s see yours then,” Mr. Flutesnoot said, as if your rocket would be a similar failure and teach you how bad it was to make fun of other kids in class.

You strode forward, handing him the bottle to set up before stepping back slightly to watch it. Sweet Pea moved up next to you.

The pair of you counted down along with the rest of the class, watching as the water poured out and your bottle shot up into the sky soaring far out over the field.

When it finally landed, a slightly shocked Mr. Flutesnoot directed Sweet Pea to measure the distance the rocket flew. And as he stood there watching Sweet Pea run out, you took the opportunity to turn to Cabot and Fletcher, both of your arms straight out in front of you, middle fingers high, one for each asshole.

But that moment was nothing to when, after Dilton came back with the distance his rocket flew, it was determined that your rocket was the top performer.

“Yes!” Sweet Pea shouted, punching the sky. The rest of the class offered some halfhearted congratulations, and you beamed at him.

“Congratulations the extra credit is yours,” Mr. Flutesnoot announced. “Everyone let’s head back in.”

“That was incredible. Fangs would’ve loved that shit,” Sweet Pea said. A glimmer of something shone in his eyes before the look passed.

“You know,” you said, casually. “This experiment is entirely reproducible at home.”

“Maybe the rocket, but how’d you launch it?”

“Bike pump,” you answered, simply.

He nodded, the grin reappearing on his face. Which slid off as Cabot pushed past, shouldering you. “Fucking Unit-Bomber.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sweet Pea barked. Your eyes flicked up to Mr. Flutesnoot who was busy opening the doors to the school ahead.

“Why don’t you make me?” Cabot spun around stepping up into Sweet Pea’s face. Sweet Pea pushed him backwards, and Cabot pushed Sweet Pea. A few of the other Serpents in class noticed the scuffle and ran back to step in and crowd Cabot.

“Alright guys back in the building!” Mr. Flutesnoot called. Your attention snapped to him, seeing him craning his neck to see what was happening and who should be written up. Cabot held up his hands in the face of all the Serpents and under the scrutiny of your physics teacher.

Little bitch.

“Better a Unit-Bomber than a dumbass,” you remarked, walking past Cabot who was still held there by the rest of the Serpents until you and Sweet Pea were back in the building.

“You good?” Sweet Pea asked with a quick glance down at you as you rubbed your shoulder.

“Fine,” you shrugged, letting your hand drop.

His eyes remained on you, and you met his gaze, a strange and completely unwelcome flipping sensation in your stomach. You shook your head, stepping into the classroom, pushing the feeling down. You’d deal with this later.

The bell rang, signaling the end of physics and the fact that only one more class stood between you and the weekend.

“Hey, y/n,” Sweet Pea called out, stopping you on your way out of the classroom. You slowed down, waiting for him to catch up so you could walk out together. “I was thinking, do you come over to the quarry after school?”

You narrowed your eyes, looking at him suspiciously, ignoring the way your heart seemed to speed up a little at the offer. “Why?” You asked, drawing out the word.

“I got stuff to make a bottle rocket with Fangs. Thought we could use your expertise.“

You grew stiff and your face went blank. There it was. There was always something. “My expertise as the Unit-Bomber?”

Sweet Pea’s head snapped to you. “You think I’d say that?”

You gave a jerky shrug, looking straight ahead and continuing to your math class.

“Or do you just not want to be seen on the Southside?”

“Think what you want,” you said quietly, your throat feeling tight with disappointment.

Next to you, Sweet Pea bristled. “I asked because I thought you’d enjoy it but forget it,” he stormed off.

Guilt flooded through you. This always happened. Fuck. Things were easier when you just stayed by yourself. “Wait,” you called out, hurrying after him. “I’m sorry. I’m not... I don’t...” you ran a hand through your hair. “Can you give me a ride?”

Sweet Pea’s face remained stony as he looked back at you. You stood in silence until the warning bell rang. His shoulders didn’t relax. He didn’t ease up. Instead he said, “I’ll meet you out front after school.”

You were surprised when he actually pulled up and parked his bike out front at the end of the day.

You walked up to the bike. “Hey,” you said, softly.

“Hey.” The word came out short, and he didn’t offer anything else except for an intense stare.

Despite the fact that your skin tingled with discomfort, you refused to break his gaze. “Can we forget about how I was a touchy asshole who is apparently new to the concept of friendship?”

Sweet Pea snorted and visibly relaxed, shaking his head. “Get on the bike.”

You hauled yourself onto the back, wrapping your arms around his middle and trying to lose yourself to the feeling of the wind in your hair and sun on your face as he tore out of the parking lot and towards the quarry.

The drive passed mostly in silence. Slightly more comfortable than your other silences if only because you were fairly sure you’d have to lean up and shout in his ear for him to actually hear you. Instead, you occupied yourself by watching the landscape pass and ignoring the way your arms wound their way tighter around him every time he turned. Kind of like how, when you arrived, you fought to keep down the shock and outrage at his living situation.

He lived in a tent.

In fact, it seemed like most of the Southside now lived in tents. And it seemed like complete bullshit that the mayor or someone hadn’t spoken up to address the fact that half the town had lost their housing and were now living with minimal running water and plumbing.

If it weren’t for years of practice pushing things down, Sweet Pea might have seen it all on your face. But instead he looked at you and found only a blank sort of contentment. “Fangs!” Sweet Pea called, and out of a nearby tent popped Fangs Fogarty’s head.

He didn’t look like he’d been shot just a couple of weeks ago. His smile was bright and genuine even as he hauled himself up on crutches and hobbled out to greet you.

“Hey, what’s up?” He greeted, coming over to you. You moved a little faster to meet him halfway.

“Fangs, Y/N. Y/N, Fangs,” Sweet Pea introduced before disappearing into a tent. The introduction was hardly necessary. Everyone in Riverdale knew exactly who Fangs Fogarty was.

“Heard a lot about you,” Fangs said, reaching a hand forward and you shook it even as you cast a glance at Sweet Pea’s tent. Fangs chuckled at the look on your face. "You're one of the few Northsiders Sweet Pea thinks 'Isn't that bad.'" You snorted.

“Wow. High praise,” you said flatly, and Fangs full out laughed.

“For him? It’s about the same as declaring—“

“Shut up,” Sweet Pea cut him off, appearing with a couple of grocery store bags. “Or I’ll throw your crutches in the lake.”

“Whatever man I’m about to be off them anyway,” Fangs dismissed goodnaturedly but thankfully didn’t finish his statement.

“Sooo rockets?” you asked, changing the topic just in case Fangs decided he did want to make things more uncomfortable than they already were.

Fangs grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Yes.”

You wished you could have blamed how bad Fangs was at building rockets on the fact that he was injured. But given that most of his tasks were literally groundwork, it really came down to the fact that he was too excited and a shit listener. Without your constant intervention and shouting at him, the rockets would have turned out similarly to the SS Clusterfuck you saw in physics. As a result, it took twice as long to build the damn things than it should have, but eventually you had your rockets, Cobra, Viper, and Galileo ready to go on the launcher you talked Sweet Pea through building.

And while Fangs was a shitty engineer, at least he was funny and a good conversationalist and had just enough of a saving grace personality for you to not want to drown him in the quarry like you would have for anyone else.

“Mine first,” Fangs declared, pushing Cobra into your hands. You rolled your eyes and set it up, looking back at the boys.

“Ready?” You called back, and they flashed a thumbs up.

“Go!” You shouted, moving back towards them as Fangs pushed down on the tire pump, sending the rocket up. It was fairly impressive the thing went up at all.

He let out a whoop as if he had actually been a part of a real-life rocket launch. Behind the three of you there was some clapping. You turned to see Toni Topaz standing with Cheryl Blossom.

“Impressive Fangs,” Toni commented with a smile.

“Wanna set one off, Topaz?” Sweet Pea asked, holding Viper out to her.

“Nah, we’re heading over to Cheryl’s, I just had to grab a few things,” Toni shook her head, disappearing into her tent. It was hard to miss the way Sweet Pea’s face fell.

“Teaching them all your tricks Unit-Bomber?” Cheryl asked, quirking an eyebrow with a smug little smile. You glowered at her.

“Why? Looking for new ways to set your house on fire?” You shot back.

“Shit,” Fangs remarked.

Cheryl stepped forward and opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Toni who re-emerged from her tent. “Ready to go, babe?” she asked, looking expectantly at Cheryl. The redhead plastered on a smile.

“No need to be here when y/n inevitably blows up half the tents.”

Well, shit. Toni was making her soft.

You watched as they climbed onto their motorcycles and pulled away.

“I’ll say it: that was incredible,” Fangs said, looking over to you. “You out bitched the bitch.”

You shrugged, feeling significantly worse than five minutes ago.

“Why'd she call you the Unit-Bomber?” Fangs asked, genuinely. Sweet Pea reached over and hit him upside the head. “The fuck?”

“It’s what everyone calls me,” you shrugged, sitting down on the ground next to Fangs. “It’s Riverdale. You do one thing and suddenly that’s all you are. You guys know that.”

A shadowlike feeling settled over the group as the three of you looked out over the water.

“What’d you do?” Fangs asked, breaking the silence. Sweet Pea hissed words you didn’t catch. “What? She knows what I did. Half the town knows about your anger issues—“

“I caused an explosion during a unit final last year in chemistry. By accident,” you added.

“You are too good at science for it to have been an accident,” Sweet Pea commented.

You rested your head on your knees. “Well, it was.” You simply hadn’t known that the reaction would go that wrong and be that big. It had nothing to do with the fact that your boyfriend just broke up with you because you refused to tell him you loved him, so you canceled class because you wanted to go home, not sit behind him in chemistry.

The silence once more settled over your group, each of you in your own thoughts and miles away from the quarry.

That was, until Fangs spoke. “Well let’s blow some more shit up. By accident.”

"What are we doing today?" Fangs asked, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in his excitement. You rolled your eyes, continuing to unpack the contents of your grocery store bag onto the bank of the quarry.

After the first bottle rocket experiment, Fangs had insisted you come back to teach other 'actually cool science experiments.' "You can homeschool me until I'm cleared to go back," he'd suggested. And like a sucker you fell for it. Even after Fangs returned to school, you always found yourself climbing onto Sweet Pea's motorcycle and riding down to the quarry with them.

Out of habit. You told yourself. Because that's definitely why you did it. Habit. Nothing else.

As a result, there was a direct relationship between the proximity to summer and the frequency of you exploding shit on the Southside.

"Well if Sweet Pea remembered to get the brake fluid this time, I think we're ready for a real explosion," you answered, your eyes darting up to Fangs just in time to see the look of absolute glee light up his face.

"I have it. Hold on, it's in my tent," Sweet Pea grumbled, disappearing into his tent to grab the supplies. Neither you nor Fangs had let it go for the entire week that last Friday Sweet Pea had forgotten the crucial part of your experiment. As a result, the three of you had resorted to sitting by the quarry’s edge and just talking for five hours. It was boring, uncomfortable, awkward, and the reason you were thoroughly convinced that these boys may just be your best friends.

"Fangs," you directed, holding out the Dr. Bob soda bottle.

"On it," he chirped, ripping the label off of the bottle before unscrewing the cap and beginning to chug down the drink. You watched him, counting in your head as the off-brand soda slowly disappeared, stopping when Fangs finally pulled away. Half of the bottle was empty.

"31," you announced. "Best yet."

"I can do better," Fangs said, punctuating the statement with a burp. He handed the bottle off to Sweet Pea who had reappeared with the brake fluid in hand. He reached down, offering the chemicals to you, and you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his. Your skin tingled at the contact, and as normal, you swallowed hard and ignored it. Sweet Pea did too, instead bringing the Dr. Bob to his lips and gulping down the soda quickly. By the time he was finished, only a little remained in each of the pockets at the bottom. You took it from him, careful to grab it at the top and away from his hand and finished it off.

You also pulled out the notably smaller plastic water bottle and finished that by yourself.

"Alright," you gasped, putting the water bottle down. "I need you to fill the chlorine up until here." You pointed to a groove on the water bottle and let your shoulders drop when Sweet Pea took the bag of chlorine from Fangs. As always he stopped right when he was supposed to, placing the water bottle back on the ground next to you.

You offered the soda bottle up to Fangs, and he took it, swapping Sweet Pea for the chlorine.

"Fangs, I swear you better listen to me," you warned, rising up from where you crouched to point a finger at him threateningly.

"I always listen to you," Fangs scoffed, rolling his eyes and stepping forward towards the bottle.

"I mean it. This is actually dangerous."

"I mean it too," he agreed, but that damn glint was in his eyes, and you knew you were in for it.

"So when I say stop, you're actually going to stop pouring it into the bottle."

"Relax. Trust me," he soothed.

"No." Both you and Sweet Pea spoke the word at the same time, and Fangs face split into a grin.

"Ok, I promise I'll stop after you say stop," he agreed, and you nodded so that Sweet Pea reached out the bottle for Fangs to pour the chlorine in. You kept a careful eye on the mark you set in your head, watching as the chlorine fell to the bottom of the bottle.

"Stop," you instructed a little before the mark. The chlorine continued to pour.

"Just a little more," Fangs stated, his lips twitching into a smile.

"Fangs, stop," you snapped as the chlorine piled up over the mark.

"I am--"

Sweet Pea yanked the bottle away from Fangs and some of the chlorine fell out onto the bank of the quarry. He held the bottle out with one hand and punched Fangs hard in the arm with another. Fangs swore as he laughed.

"Give me that," you said, taking the bottle from Sweet Pea and glaring at Fangs. "You're the worst science student. You know that right?"

"You're saying that because I'm from the Southside," he folded his arms.

You shook your head, turning away to place the bottles even closer to the water. "I'm saying that because you're a moron. Sweet Pea, can I have the brake fluid?"

"Sometimes you're just as mean as Toni," Fangs complained.

"She's meaner. That's what makes her such a good replacement," Sweet Pea corrected.

You looked over your shoulder at Sweet Pea, your eyebrows furrowing. "Stop saying that."

"What that you're mean?" Fangs teased.

You stood up straighter, crossing your arms against your chest. "No, stop calling me a replacement."

"What should we call you then? An upgrade?" Sweet Pea smirked.

You shook your head, maintaining your serious expression and ignoring the way your stomach dropped at his words. While he had been making fewer and fewer comments about Toni (maybe due to the fact that she and Cheryl stopped by less and less), there was always one or two about how they didn't need her now that they had you. And you didn't like them. You weren't sure why. "You can't just replace someone Sweet Pea, that's not how it works. People are different."

The smiles fell from the boys' faces. "We know that," Fangs said, earnestly. "It's just a joke. Right?" He hit Sweet Pea in the shoulder who nodded. His face had a new look on it. Something you hadn't seen before and couldn't quite trace to a specific emotion or thought. You decided you didn't like it though. It made you squirm.

"Ok," you swallowed, tearing your eyes from Sweet Pea and turning around back to the bottles. "Bring me the brake fluid.

You didn't look to see who pushed the container into your hand, focusing instead on pouring a proportionate amount of fluid into each container and swirling it to mix it.

"Alright, step back," you instructed, and the boys followed you back to stand a few feet away, all of your eyes glued to the bottles.

The three of you waited in silence. Fangs leaning on your shoulder and Sweet Pea standing so close that if he were just a centimeter to the left, his arm would be touching yours. You waited as a minute passed.

"Fangs, you fucked it up," Sweet Pea commented.

"No," you turned, tilting your head up to face him. "Chemistry takes time."

He raised his eyebrows and moved a fraction of an inch closer so that his arm bumped against yours. You turned your attention back to the experiment and shifted to your left, leaning more into Fangs.

A new silence enveloped the three of you, this one slightly less comfortable than the last. So much so that twenty seconds later you were stepping forward towards the bottles. "Maybe I should have shaken them more---"

A whoosh of fire shot up from water bottle, flames shooting up to five feet high. You jumped, but before you could step back or react in any other way the soda bottle burst into flame with a roar, pieces of chlorine shooting up out of the bottle and whizzing past you. A hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked you back as the three of you scrambled away to escape the burning bottle.

To your left you could hear Fangs' uncontrollable laughter as you slowed to a stop, colliding with Sweet Pea. His arms wrapped around you to steady you, and you glanced up at him. "You good?" he asked, looking down at you with that face again. Your mouth seemed to go dry and the world seemed to spin, and one word rang through your head: out.

You stepped out of his grip, whirling on Fangs with your chest heaving, ignoring the way Sweet Pea's face fell.

"You almost killed me!" you shouted.

"I didn't tell you to step forward," he protested hands up, his eyes flicking from you to the smoldering remains of plastic. You opened your mouth to argue but instead laughter burst out. And then Fangs was laughing again. And Sweet Pea. And the three of you laughed until you cried and then you scavenged bottles from around the campsite to continue setting off explosions until it got dark.

You had taken to sticking around until it got dark after that. Most of the time the three of you would make dinner and eat together after the experiment, and then you'd talk until one of the boys offered to take you home.

Tonight, Fangs had let you know that he wouldn't be available to chauffeur you. "I have a rendezvous," he announced a little while after dinner, standing up from where the three of you had been stargazing.

"A rendezvous?" you repeated, leaning up on your forearms. "With who?"

"I don't kiss and tell, you should know that," he winked, and you rolled your eyes.

"Just make sure you don't get shot this time," Sweet Pea called out from his position on the ground.

Fangs flipped him off, turning to head over to the motorcycle, and you watched him go, a small spark of anxiety making it's home in your chest. You turned to look at Sweet Pea. "Do you know who?"

"Could be anyone," Sweet Pea shrugged, continuing to look up at the stars. You stared at him for a second longer, trying to figure out if he was deflecting or if he really didn't care before laying back down next to him.

It was tempting to push it. To see what he knew about Fangs’ love life. But something about the thought of continuing this conversation set off warning bells. Change the topic, the little voice told you.

"You know," you said, tucking your arms under your head. "I used to want to be an astronaut."

"Really?" Sweet Pea asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Mhmm," you hummed, keeping your eyes on the stars. "Back before I realized how much fun it is to blow shit up."

Sweet Pea snorted, returning his gaze back up to the stars. "Why?"

"They're so far away from all the bullshit," you whispered expecting to hear him snort again, but instead he was quiet. "And when I look at them, I don't feel so..." you trailed off, your chest growing tight with discomfort as you treaded close to the intimate. You abandoned the statement, taking a different route. "They just make you realize how small all of us are in the grand scheme of things. I like that." Sweet Pea was still quiet next to you and that tight feeling took hold of you once more. You'd shared too much. Gone too deep. You turned to him, fully intending to make a sarcastic comment--something, anything to alleviate the tension, but when you faced him you found that his eyes were on you once more, and your throat closed up, not letting any of the words that you'd planned get out.

"I like that too," he said. His eyes remained fixed on yours, and even though you desperately wanted to look away and back up at the stars or anywhere else, you stayed focused on him. Because dammit, you were going to keep this friendship. You would not self-eject. You would not break away. You would keep eye contact and continue the heart to heart even if it felt like you were being strangled by every prolonged silence.

"Can I ask you a question and you won't be on my shit for getting too personal?"

"Depends on the question," you offered a wavering smile before breaking your promise to yourself and staring back up at the stars, your eyes searching for familiar constellations, anything to separate you from the thoughts and the uncomfortableness of living in your own body.

"Do you really like being by yourself?"

You were somewhat relieved, and a wistful sort of sigh escaped you. "Mostly."

"Mostly?" Sweet Pea repeated.

"I can't do...I'm not a feelings person. It's easier to be by myself." You let a hand fall to the grass, twisting a couple of blades before tugging them out of the earth. "But it's not always...good."

Beside you, Sweet Pea started to laugh, and you swung out your fist, bringing it down to punch him in the stomach. The air left him in a quick exhale even as he continued to try to laugh. "You really are bad at feelings."

"Shut up," you grumbled, a prickly feeling on your skin. "I was being honest."

Sweet Pea attempted to pull himself together. "I know, just...you couldn't find a better word than 'good'?"

"This is why I don't do this shit," you grumbled pushing yourself up into a sitting position so you could get up.

Sweet Pea's hand darted out and grabbed your forearm. "Hey, I'm sorry, stay."

"Not unless we change the subject," you glowered.

The corner of Sweet Pea's mouth quirked up. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. Tell me something embarrassing. Or don't. We can talk about motorcycles or movies or Hot Dog or anything else," you suggested, breaking from his grip and wrapping your arms around your knees.

Sweet Pea was quiet again, and you wondered if you could somehow disappear at this moment. You could just get up and walk away. Tell him that it was past midnight and you were tired.

"Can I tell you about this girl I like? Or will that make you uncomfortable?" Your stomach rolled, and you suddenly felt the urge to vomit. Instead you shrugged.

"As long as you don't expect me to tap into my romantic side and give some love advice, it should be fine." Your voice came out thankfully flat and sarcastic. You could practically feel Sweet Pea rolling his eyes.

"Like I need love advice from a robot," he scoffed, and you ignored the twinge of pain in your chest but didn't bother to hide the annoyance from your face.

If he noticed the fact that your spine straightened and you grew still, he didn't say anything. There was definitely no apology. Instead, he heaved a dreamy sort of sigh. A sound that quite frankly you should never have heard come out of Sweet Pea's mouth.

"Alright, Romeo, spill."

"She's just extraordinary," he stated simply. A part of you wished you had laid back down so you could sneak a look at his face, but you couldn't move. Instead, you picked at your nails, letting your science partner turned friend--probably best friend--spill his guts. "I don't know her that well...we just started talking a little in school, but I noticed her the first time I ever walked in Riverdale. She just has that sort of presence you know? When she walks into a room, people notice. And not just because she's beautiful. It's like, you can sense how confident she is. And she should be. She's the best at what she does, and I just know she's going to make it big one day, so I kind of want to take my chance now before I lose it forever..." he trailed off and you chanced a glance at him. He was staring up at the stars wistfully, and you looked back down at the ground, rolling a twig between your fingers. "I don't know. Even though she's a Northsider, she's kind of...intimidating. Hard to make a move on."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "If she's intimidating, she's probably used to guys keeping their distance and never saying anything," you murmured. "Maybe take it slow. Play the long game."

"You know that almost sounds like love advice."

You turned back at him, throwing the stick you were twirling so it bounced off his side and onto the ground. He smiled and looked back up at the stars. “I don’t know. She seems more like a bold move type of girl.”

You shrugged. "I'm just a robot."

He didn't say anything. And despite yourself, you could feel your hopes slightly raise.

"But you think I should take a chance?"

Your heart beat faster. "Yeah," you whispered.

He nodded, thinking it over. “Maybe I’ll ask her in math or something.”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't tell if it was in relief or something else. Because that would be wrapped up in your knot of feelings. What you could tell--what was factual--was that you and Sweet Pea did not have math class together.

That was the last time you saw Sweet Pea.

At least, it felt that way.

You started riding down to the quarry on the back of Fangs' bike, Sweet Pea meeting up with you later mid-way through the experiments. At first, you had made jokes that you needed him there in order to keep Fangs in line. After all, if he was gone, who was going to actually help you with the experiment?

But then he started coming just to watch the results of the experiments.

And then it started to take him hours to come back to the campsite, and he missed them completely, having to ask questions about just why there was rainbow covered foam everywhere or what had that charred out bottle even been originally.

And then he stopped asking about the experiments. By the last day of school he stopped coming at all.

It was the second week of summer before either you or Fangs talked about it.

The two of you sat by the edge of the quarry, covered in paint and the marks of your explosions littering the trees and the ground around you. It had been your most successful Post-Sweet Pea experiment yet. Presumably because Fangs was allowed to shake up the experiments and hurl ziplock baggies full of paint anywhere he wanted. The experiment was practically tailored to his destructive soul.

It was probably the post-chaos peace, the most disarming kind of quiet and calm there was, that made him ask.

"So," Fangs said slowly, looking over at you out of the corner of his eye. "How are you doing?"

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you turned to face him. "Good?"

He let out an amused exhale, shaking his head. "I mean with the whole Josie thing."

"Oh," you responded, still confused. "Also good?"

"Good," Fangs said, turning his full attention back out to the quarry.

You followed suit, watching as the water gently moved, the sunlight reflecting off the surface so that the water glittered. You tried to keep your mind focused on how beautiful the day was. How nice it felt to feel the sun on your skin. How peaceful the quiet was and how you didn't feel suffocated in silence when you were next to Fangs. Being still next to him was easy in a way it just wasn't with Sweet Pea.

"Why?" The word escaped. Lulled out of you by the calm afternoon and immediately your stomach clenched. You could see Fangs shift to face you slightly, his eyes running over the profile of your face as you purposefully kept your eyes out on the quarry, staying as still as possible.

Fangs shrugged, joining you once more in looking out over the water. "I just thought the two of you would be a thing."

Your heart stopped. Everything stopped. You’d been expecting it to some extent, but still. Carefully, you pushed down all of the feelings and discomfort that rose in your chest, keeping your mind focused on the moment you were in now, not letting it slide back to the night you and Sweet Pea stared at the stars or any of the times you rode on the back of his motorcycle, your arms wrapped around his middle to get to here. You focused instead on the facts.

Sweet Pea and you had never been anything more than friends.

You had gone into this wanting to be friends only.

Friendship was easier.

Friendship was safer.

"We're just friends," you said picking up a rock and throwing it into the water. "It's cool."

"Cool," Fangs echoed. He didn't say anything else, and after a while you let yourself be wrapped up in the silence too, enjoying just sitting with him.

You meant what you told Fangs.

You and Sweet Pea were only ever friends. Just friends.

You believed it with every fiber of your being.

Until you saw him and Josie at Sweetwater River.

While you spent most of your evenings with Fangs, destroying shit, causing mayhem and laughing until you couldn't breathe, you enjoyed spending the long summer days by yourself. Sometimes it was reading. Other times it was gardening. And on days as hot as today, you would go swimming, regardless of the risks.

You pulled your car in behind a maroon sedan, throwing the keys into your bag with your towel and heading down to the secluded spot on the river you favored. The fact that there was another car parked by the river wasn't too unusual. After all, it was the best parking space, nearest to where the river was widest and most of the high school kids and college kids home from break did their swimming. Your spot was firmly in the other direction, a narrow section of the river where it was a little shallower and therefore not quite as dangerous to swim alone in.

Due to the trees and brush surrounding the path, it wasn't until you were most of the way down to your spot that you saw them.

Laying out on a blanket, Sweet Pea hovered over Josie as she wrapped herself around him. You snapped your eyes shut, turning quickly and trying to block out the breathy sounds that were escaping her as you scrambled back up the path. You felt dizzy and nauseous. Even after you climbed into the front seat of your car and slammed the door shut.

You held on tightly to the steering wheel. So tightly your knuckles were white and your elbows locked into place and your back pushed against the seat of the car. And then you saw it again. Sweet Pea's hands gripping at Josie's chest as he kissed at the underside of her jaw. The look of ecstasy on Josie's face as she gripped tightly onto Sweet Pea's shoulders, his hand moving and cupping the side of her neck as he dipped his head to kiss along her collarbone.

You collapsed suddenly, your forehead banging against the wheel as you choked out a sob. Your body shuddered and shook with the force of your crying as you beat the wheel with the palm of your hand, every now and then missing the edge and startling the animals nearby with a honk.

It took a few minutes before you pulled yourself together enough to sit up, shoot off a text, shift your car into drive, and start back onto the main road.

It was another twenty minutes or so before you parked at the edge of the Sunnyside Trailer Park campsite.

"Hey, Y/N are you ok?" Fangs asked, coming to meet you as you slammed your car door closed, brushing past him as you stormed down to the riverbank, the plastic grocery store bag swishing and bouncing against your leg.

"Let's blow some shit up." Your voice was still gravelly, and you were certain your eyes were still red and wet. You may’ve even had a red mark on your forehead

To his credit, he didn't try to make you talk. He turned on his heel and followed you down to the river bank, following your instructions precisely before standing back and waiting patiently as you poured toilet bowl cleaner into the different plastic bottles. You walked backward slowly, your eyes on the bottles, only stopping when you felt your arm brush against Fangs'.

You watched as the bottles slowly filled with white smoke, the plastic expanding and elongating before finally erupting loudly, one after each other.

Fangs chanced a glance at you, concern and hesitation obvious as he stared at the tear streaks running down your face. You wiped them off with the back of your hand. "It's just the loud noises," you mumbled weakly, and he nodded, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stared at the smoking remains of your bottle rockets. You stood there completely still for a minute, maybe two before you turned into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you, holding you close as you sobbed onto his shirt.

Neither of you talked about that day ever again.

You found other conversation topics to fill up your summer. From Archie Andrew's court case, to Fangs string of unnamed conquests, to new methods of creating explosions, and once or twice the proposition that you should join the Southside Serpents.

You didn't go anywhere besides your home and the Quarry, and as it turned out, you liked your summer that way. It was safer. Better. No anxiety that you might run into anyone you didn't want to see. Which was why when Fangs invited you to come to Cheryl's end of summer pool party with him, you declined.

Because everyone would be there.

Fangs didn't try to convince you to change your mind. Because he was the best friend you could ever wish for. He didn't even tell you how in one week you were going to have to face the facts whether you wanted to or not. He nodded and mentioned offhand that Jughead had asked him and Sweet Pea to meet here in fifteen minutes. Which coincidentally reminded you of the chores your mother had asked you to do at home that you needed to get to immediately.

And that was why you were entirely unprepared to find Sweet Pea by your locker at the end of the first day of school.

"Hey," he smiled.

You didn't say anything, focusing on keeping your hands still, keeping your face straight, keeping your shit together. You raised your eyebrows, silently moving to open your locker. Sweet Pea turned, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to you.

"You look familiar. Weren't we lab partners or something last year?"

"Or something," you remarked quietly, putting your books back into your locker.

He snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "How was your summer?"

"Good," you shrugged. You tugged your backpack out, slipping it onto your shoulder.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Fangs told me about some of the shit you did." You hummed, closing your locker door and ignoring the way his eyebrows furrowed. "We should do a repeat tonight."

You paused, keeping your hand on your locker. "I can't."

"Hey," Fangs greeted, coming up to the two of you and hanging an arm over Sweet Pea's shoulder despite the height difference. Both you and Sweet Pea ignored the greeting.

"Why not?" Sweet Pea asked, shrugging Fangs' arm off of his shoulder.

Your eyes found Fangs' and then darted back to your locker. "I have homework for my AP classes already. Sorry," you said firmly and with noticeably absent sympathy. "I'll see you guys later." You gave them a brief tight-lipped smile before turning around speed walking your way to the bus.

You thought that maybe after the first week back your stomach would stop doing that dropping thing every time you saw him.

It didn't.

You also thought that maybe after the first couple of weeks you wouldn't want to throw up every time you saw Josie.

You still did.

Even though you knew she and Sweet Pea weren't together, you could still hear those sounds in your head which almost made it impossible to not puke.

But it did get easier to not think about it over a few weeks. You changed your seat in all of the classes you shared together, sitting in the front of the classroom, closest to the door so it was easy to scoot out. You ate lunch in the band practice rooms, primarily because it was easier to hide there than anywhere else and the band teacher had long since given up on enforcing school rules. You started to remember why you loved being alone so much.

By the time it was almost the end of the third week of school, you had once again perfected the art of being by yourself. Only caving every now and then to respond to Fangs' texts.

Life was better this way.

"Y/L/N!" You had been on your way to English when suddenly someone had grabbed your arm, pulling you to a stop. You jumped a little, turning to see Sweet Pea holding you by your bicep. "What's going on?"

"I'm going to class?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him and attempting to calm your rapidly beating heart.

"No," he pulled you over to the side of the hallway and you stumbled a few steps before ripping your arm out of his grasp.

"Let go, shit," you mumbled, turning your arm to look at it as if expecting to see some kind of damage.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Sweet Pea demanded, folding his arms as he stared down at you.

"I'm not. I'm going to class. Trying to get an education," you rolled your eyes attempting to push past him.

He stopped you, grabbing you by the shoulders and bringing you back to face him. "Cut the bullshit."

"Get your hands off of me," you snapped, your eyes darting around him to see other students slowing down on their way to class to watch the confrontation. As if you were a spectacular car crash for them witness and assess the damage. Sweet Pea let go immediately, but his face grew darker.

"What's your problem?"

"No problem." You shrugged, keeping your face closed off and distant.

"So you're pretending I don't exist for....fun?" Sweet Pea guessed. "That's fucked up, Y/N."

Your eyes followed the students who were now blatantly rubbernecking, looking anywhere other than Sweet Pea. "Like you can talk.”

"What's that supposed to mean?"

No emotion. No feelings. Nothing. Just facts. you chanted to yourself. Just state the facts.

"Just that it's pretty convenient you want to exist and be a part of my life now, but where were you this summer?"

"I was busy," he said exasperatedly as if you were some toddler who didn't understand why her parents went to work instead of playing with her all day.

"And now I am. Sorry I don’t fit into your schedule," you shrugged, moving past him and out into the hall. The warning bell rang. It was the surprising sound that made your eyes sting.

"I thought we were friends," his voice called at your back. You whirled around, finding him much closer than expected. So close that if you had wanted to, you could have easily stabbed a finger into his chest. But you didn't want to. You didn't want to ever touch him.

"Yeah, so did I. Until I sat by the quarry all summer with Fangs while you were busy fucking Josie all over town." You turned back around to head off to class. "Fuck off," you called over your shoulder.

"Did you have to yell at him?" Fangs asked, leaning against the locker next to yours. You looked up slightly startled from where you had been exchanging your books. "Because he's being a huge pain in the ass now."

"I don't want to talk about it," you answered, shoving harder on your binder to try to get it to fit inside.

"Of course not."

You glared at him but didn't rise to the bait.

"You told him you saw him and Josie?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I told you I don't want to talk about it." You rotated the binder, hoping to fit it in the new way, pushing it until finally it slipped past the edge of the door.

Fangs sighed. "We didn't talk about it all summer. Give me this one conversation now."

"No." You slammed your locker closed, starting to walk away.

"This is why," he stated to your back, and you turned to face him, shocked to hear any sort of annoyance pass Fangs' lips. The words weren't heated, more exasperated. "This is why you two are so fucked."

You crossed your arms and remained silent.

"Neither of you will talk to the other."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit." Fangs dismissed. "You like him. He likes you. Discuss."

"Sweet Pea didn’t tell you? I’m just a robot. Nothing to discuss"

"You’re not a robot. You may not like to talk about your feelings, but it doesn't change the fact that you have them."

You felt indignant. At least you tried to hold onto that feeling even as your chin began to quiver. Fangs' shoulders dropped as he stared at you, taking a few steps closer.

“It’s not fair.” Your voice came out petulant and broken. “Why do I have to forgive him and get over it, and he gets to do whatever he wants. He ignored me for months but I can’t do it for like three weeks?”

“Are you really that petty?”

“Yes," you answered. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him, y/n. Tell him about the day you went to Sweetwater River.”

“No. Never.”

“Then don’t. Just stop making me watch whatever this is,” he said, and with that he turned around and left you standing in the middle of the hallway.

You got fairly good at avoiding both Sweet Pea and Fangs after that. If anything, the confrontation with Fangs was a reminder of why it was always better to be by yourself. Even friends got too annoyingly involved for their own good. Analyzing you. Evaluating your emotions and your actions. Eventually everyone expected too much out of you.

And you didn't need that bullshit.

What you needed was to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and carry on without them. Like always. Show them you didn't need their approval. You didn't need their advice. You didn't need their presence in your life.

You were happy alone.

You were fine alone.

You would be ok alone

As soon as you showed them you didn't need them.

And that was exactly the opportunity presented to you by Veronica Lodge's invitation to attend her new speakeasy's opening night. It was also the reason you got dressed up as requested and put more than a minuscule effort into your appearance for once in your life. Because you wanted them to see that you were thriving own your own. And he could just eat his heart out that he had to live without you from now on. They. You meant they.

You pulled yourself from your thoughts, instead focusing on the details of the room around you. At how absolutely fabulous everything looked. The old-fashioned lighting. The velvet curtained stage. The classmates dressed in dazzling clothes. Everything exuded charm and class, and it was easy to lose yourself in the time capsule.

"Hey."

You turned to face the person who greeted you, ignoring the lurch in your stomach that you wished would vanish.

Sweet Pea stood there, hands in his pockets, staring down at you. He was dressed head to toe in black, his silky button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows and arms decked out with the usual bracelets he never took off. You couldn't help but notice the absence of his dog tags and wondered if he tucked them in for the night or left them at home. You hated yourself for noticing.

"Hey," you greeted softly, and he stepped closer, and now you couldn't help but notice that despite the fact he dressed up his hair was still a tousled mess, falling over his forehead in random curls.

Dammit.

"I didn't think I you'd come to this thing," he said with an exhale, stopping a few feet away.

"Why not? I like mocktails and music," you shrugged, swirling your own mocktail in your hand as if the action gave more authenticity to your words.

"Josie's singing," he answered simply. It took everything in you to keep eye contact.

"So?"

"I didn't think you liked her."

You shrugged, taking a careful sip of your drink. "I don't have any problems with Josie."

"Then why were you on my shit about this summer?" his eyes narrowed.

"Because it wasn't particularly fun being blown off all summer regardless of you were spending time with," you answered, tightly.

Sweet Pea crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow. "What happened to you like being alone?"

You paused, and his eyes glittered with triumph. Inside your chest, your heart constricted as if it recognized defeat as well, and the only honorable way out was through a sudden heart attack and death.

"Fuck this," you muttered, placing your drink on the bar and brushing past him to dart up the stairs.

He followed, pushing people out of the way in his haste to catch up to you. "Can you stop leaving every conversation I try to have with you?" he called at your back as the two of you rushed through Pop's and out the front doors.

You stopped and spun. "Why? There's nothing to talk about. I thought we'd hang out this summer; we didn't. Obviously we're not as close as I thought. We're on the same page now."

"Why are you so mad about this?" he shouted, stopping a few feet away from you.

"Why are you so mad I'm ignoring you now?" you returned, watching people scramble to get out of their cars and speed walk inside. As if they were running away from a bomb they knew was about to explode. Which might be appropriate.

"Because it doesn't make any fucking sense!" he held out his hands as if he wanted to strangle you but instead curled them into fists and shook a little.

"I missed you, you dumbass!" You blurted out, chest heaving as you stared at him. He took the confession in the same way you imagined he'd take a punch. A look of shock passed over his face as he stepped back towards Pop's and then seemed to regain his balance and took a step forward. Your shoulders dropped as the anger seemed to drain from you, leaving you with all of the feelings you'd been so careful to push down. "All summer. I missed you. And you didn't miss me because you had her," you continued softly.

"What?" He asked trying to follow your words as your face heated up like it was on fire, and you felt like you wanted to cry or throw up or explode into tiny bits. You pressed your lips together, trying to keep it in, keep it down. You offered a jerky shrug. "So what was this all some kind of revenge?"

You shook your head.

"Then why the hell were you ignoring me if you missed me?"

You looked away from him.

"Dammit, Y/N!" he shouted, and you turned back to him.

And in the next second you darted forwards swiftly putting a hand on his shoulder to help launch yourself up, standing on your tiptoes and leaning into him, pressing your lips to his. His hands caught your waist, almost reflexively, supporting you even though his lips didn't move. Didn't press into yours. Didn't open. Didn't do anything.

You pulled back, sinking down onto your heels. Sweet Pea didn't say anything. Or move his hands. Instead he looked down at you with an eyebrow quirked.

You had thought---You swallowed the thought, pushing it down with the other ones, and letting the feeling that you had taken a bad situation and fucked it up even more wash over you. Fucking feelings. Your lips moved, trying to make any sort of words, but every time you attempted to say something your voice caught in your throat. "I can't--" you finally whispered, attempting to take a step back and out of Sweet Pea's grasp, but his hands tightened on your hips.

His face still seemed angry. Maybe even more now than before you had kissed him. "You've been avoiding me because you have feelings for me?"

You looked down at your feet.

"How long?"

You shook your head.

"How long?" His voice was slightly angrier, and he gently shook you by your waist.

"Since we set off the rockets in class," you whispered, still refusing to meet his eye.

He exhaled a disbelieving kind of laugh. "And you let me feel like an ass for liking you? And then again for having a summer fling so I could move on from you since you were clearly not interested?"

It would have been nice if you could tell him that you had no idea he liked you. Tell him that you hadn't purposefully distanced yourself and tried to make it seem like you weren't interested. That you hadn't convinced yourself you weren't interested. Because then you wouldn't have felt like such shit in this moment.

"I'm sorry." Your voice was still quiet. "I wanted to save you from this."

"This?"

"Me. Being a disaster who can't feelings. This always happens. It's why I blew up a lab. It's why I'm alone. I'm broken, ok? Just let me avoid you, and you'll be better off."

"No." Sweet Pea said quietly, pulling you closer to him.

"No?" Your voice came out smaller than you wanted it to.

"Not this time. No," he shook his head.

"It'll just get worse."

"We'll work it out."

You felt the familiar claustrophobic panic rise in your chest. The one from the way he looked at you the first time you set off an explosion by the quarry. The one that had taken hold of you at the lake while you were gazing at stars with him all those months ago. You looked up into his eyes and found them fixated on you, and it all felt like too much. The fact that he knew you liked him. And he liked you. And you guys would be in a relationship. Together. And how could a robot like you ever deserve someone like him or even come close to making him feel as happy as you did when the two of you were running away from a soda bottle that was about to explode.

But the promise of more moments like those and not having to see him with someone else, the knowledge that to some extent he hated not being with you too, the feeling of having him stand close to you with his hands firmly on your body. Those things would be enough to push through this moment and maybe even the next.

"Ok," you whispered, looking up at him.

"Good," he nodded, bending over and capturing your lips into his. And it felt like bottle rockets. Not the thrill of setting one off and waiting too long to run away, but as if you were the water bottle expanding and expanding, full of longing and anxiety and happiness and other emotions you weren't sure the names of, and now, kissing Sweet Pea, you were exploding into a billion pieces, feeling everything all at once and enjoying every second of it.

#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea #riverdale #riverdale imagine #sweet pea fic #riverdale fic #sweet pea fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #cw riverdale #sweet pea imagines #sweet pea fics #sweet pea fanfic #riverdale fanfic

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naughtyxstories · 5 years ago

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Body Modification Universes

OOC Notes:

all of my male muses are available for these universes

looking for partners writing female muses primarily

consent in this universe is dubious at best so please do not write in this universe if it would be triggering for you

recommend an OOC chat prior to the first starter to discuss nature of modifications [physical and mental] to be made to your muse

Plots:

Version One

In this alternate universe, body modification has become the societal norm. Once their romantic relationship has reached a certain point, her lover/boyfriend/partner has the right to simply take her to the “Centre” for the modifications. He completes the forms and ostensibly she consents by signing them as well. However she doesn’t get to see what modifications were requested or what exactly will happen to her once she goes through those doors.

Since it has become the societal norm, everything can be found in this world such as wings, capable of flight, enhanced breast size and shape, physical alterations, mental alterations (to make them smarter or more stupid, crave sex or certain kinds of kinks they wouldn’t do before but now beg for). Some women come out with fairly minor physical changes or even improvements to their health and well-being (such as no longer needing glasses). But those are few and far between. Given free reign to change their woman to taste, so to speak, most men have taken full advantage of the situation.

After the completion of the mods, the young female must spend the next week at the Centre to ensure she is fully recovered before she can leave. Also her first sexual interaction after the modifications must occur at the Centre to ensure medical staff are available to treat someone whose mods did not take for some reason.

Plotting options include hitting that point in the relationship where the next obvious step is the trip to the Centre, a modification gone wrong and taken in by a sympathetic soul, the post-modification-surgery interactions including first sexual interaction post-mod and the list goes on.

Version Two:

The world did not end with a bang or with a whimper. It was just slowly swept away, one kilometre at a time. It started in the middle of the ocean so no one noticed for far too long. By the time it was picked up it was over 100 kilometres in diameter. A round circle that shimmered in the light, impenetrable to the eye. Anything that passed through it did not return. They sent in drones and navy units. They sent in diplomats. They sent in cameras, animals and ships. Nothing returned.

Once the barrier was passed through, all communication ceased. They were simply erased.

Countries rallied and global research teams formed to investigate the Shimmer, as it became known, and how to stop it. Every twenty-four hours it grew by another kilometre in all directions. They tried to detonate weapons to blow a hole in it, they tried to communicate with it, and they tried to wall it in. Nothing helped.

Soon it was devouring entire islands and coastline. People fled. The Shimmer was coming. A mindless, voracious, unstoppable enemy that seemed to have no plan, no purpose, but to consume the world.

But the leaders of the world had a back-up plan. A last resort that had been in development since the reality of the threat had been made clear. There was only one hope left - to abandon Earth and try to find another world on which they could survive.

As the end grew nigh, the citizens of the world put together a life-raft of survivors, their best and brightest, their children, their scientists and loaded all of their knowledge and their hope into a trio of space ships. They launched in time, each ship carrying the last of humanity into a different direction, each hoping to find a habitable world.

Does humanity deserve a second chance?

Life on one of the ships, the Acheron, took a twisted turn.

It was a skeleton crew for a long time as the bulk of the ship’s inhabitants lay in stasis. Just a few crew and the ship’s captain. Lost in space and unsure of their very survival, the crew occupied a ship which was designed to be inhabited but it was not. Not really. The waking crew grieved and thought of their home world. They received no communications now. Nothing current. Just old television and radio programs, bouncing around the universe endlessly. Canned laughter from the long dead. The world was gone. They were alone.

Over time a sort of madness grew. The Captain and his first officer were the first infected, entranced by their power and the lack of oversight. The scientists initially resisted. But over time, even they grew curious. With tens of thousands still in stasis, a few experimental losses surely wouldn’t be so dire. They started with one. Everyone knew she was only on board because her father was extraordinarily wealthy. He had funded a great deal of the components and bought berths for many noteworthy artists on the condition that his daughter got to go as well.

So they moved her to a separated stasis pod, unconnected from the others. Curious to see what they could do, they started simply and each time, they pulled her out of stasis to see if it worked. The experiments took months but there was little else for them to do. Even those that initially resisted, that disdained what was occurring, began to collaborate. The moral sway of their home world grew weak and distant as they grew more and more isolated. By now they had lost communications with the other ships. They truly felt like they were the last of humanity.

Once they had done all they could to their first ‘patient’, they added a few others to their collection, each twisted by the experiments inflicted upon them. The modified human beings were changed such that they mentally couldn’t recognize themselves, even in a photograph, or have any recollection of their past lives. They became known as the “Companions”.

For some the scientists had changed their skin, hair or eye colour to unnatural shades. Some were merely perfected and exaggerated versions of the various cultural reflections of beauty from home but still within the realm of ‘normal’. They added secondary features, larger breasts, tightened their holes so it always caused the Companions to cry out in pain when they were used. Some craved the taste of a man’s cum, a woman’s pussy or even piss. Some begged to be used, often and thoroughly. Some craved pain. Or the sweet metallic taste of blood. Some lost the ability to walk and were obliged to crawl everywhere. Some grew wings and could fly around the cargo bays, perching high in the rafters. A few seemed to hold onto their humanity for too long, becoming enraged. Those failed experiments were ejected into space.

Some were silly and cutesy, exaggerated little fuck-dolls who were charming and adorable but didn’t have two whole brain cells to rub together.

An Elite member of the crew could choose the Companion’s changes from a laundry-list of options. A menu of genetic tortures and modifications. Did you want your companion to tolerate pain or experience unending pleasure, with no loss of sensation? The options were endless from physical modification to mental reprogramming so that they would serve their selected “owner” with all appearance of willing submission.

#body mod au

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Fifty: An Emergency ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

Insomnia is a beast she just can’t tame.

Lying awake, an arm slung over her brow, Hinata stares up at her apartment ceiling. A small strip of light cuts across it from the gap between her curtains that she can never cover no matter how much she finagles with them. The neon city just outside her window doesn’t help her inability to sleep when she should. Part of her thinks to move to a quieter street, but...this one’s so close to her job, and actually has decent rent despite its great location.

...but one of these days, her sleepless nights are going to catch up with her. She’s already starting to make minor mistakes at work, and her supervisor is going to notice sooner or later.

Sighing, she lowers her forearm over her eyes. Maybe she should just...get up and go for a walk. This city quite literally never sleeps, so the action might be enough to wear her out enough to catch a few hours of rest before having to make her way to the office tomorrow.

Such a joy working in the claims department of the largest medical bionics insurance company in their city. There’s always something going wrong with someone’s biocomponents. A locked-up limb, a joint that squeaks, an eye that shorts out. As amazing as she finds the unity of biology and technology...it sure makes for a plethora of headaches.

But then again...it’s those flaws and claims that pay her salary, so...maybe she can’t complain. It’d just be nice to have a quiet day in the office. But so long as someone’s tech is on the fritz, she’ll be there to walk them through the claims process.

Not exactly how she pictured spending her early adult life, but...well, sometimes you have to compromise a dream to pay the bills.

Making up her mind, she swings her legs over the side of her bed, feet planted on the cool floor as she stands and grabs some basic clothes. Tank, sweats, sweatshirt, shoes. Just something to decently dress herself while she tries to run her brain and body a little closer to empty.

Tying up her hair in a makeshift bun, she heads out, a swipe of the chip in her palm locking the door behind her as she heads down a few flights of stairs to the ground floor.

Some things, at least, she likes to do the old fashioned way.

As soon as she steps out onto the sidewalk, it’s an assault on all her senses. Bright lights, flashing and dancing, announce the ever-present night life of a city with little need to sleep. There are just as many businesses - if not more - open for customers at night as there are during the daylight hours. Hinata’s only ventured into the city nightlife a time or two - mostly because of work and needing to be up early - but also the lingering view that only vagrants and the lifeless waste their nights being awake and active after midnight.

She herself doesn’t necessarily believe it - the streets are mostly just as safe at night as they are during the day. While the introduction of the human-machine hybrid has resulted in a slow, steady climb in crime, she lives in one of the more decent parts of the city. There’s rarely any incidents, and most revolve around the tech itself. And beyond her palm inplant for accessing her valuables and her private cellular implant for hands-free communication, Hinata’s refrained from any major modifications. Her lackluster appearances helps her blend in with those deemed less profitable in the grand scheme of things. Her mods are the most basic of the basic, and hardly worth the time.

So, hands in her pockets, she just...picks a direction and starts walking.

In a way, she really does find the nightlife and its lights pretty. The sound is a little obnoxious, but her building is new enough it’s equipped with the best sound muffling tech there is. She barely hears any of it. And she’s grown used to the scents of the city. It’s not as pleasant as a flower-filled field, but...well, the smog’s been fairly managed since new laws were passed a few years back. Otherwise, she has little to complain about on the sensory front.

As she meanders, she peers into shop windows, watching displays shift and change. Rail-thin girls model clothes next to ab-clenching guys, all with some kind of mod visible. New tech shines and glows. She’s not really interested in any of it, has no intention to buy. But it gives her something to look at and think about as she goes. If she wants to tucker out her brain, overstimulating it is probably her best bet.

Passing a small gap between buildings (a rarity these days with the demand for space), something...makes her pause. A kind of inexplicable feeling that something is wrong.

The space - a few feet wide - is nearly pitch black despite the neon lights just beyond. Refuse is piled near the mouth. Overall, it’s a typical alley beyond its narrow size. And yet…

Brow furrowing, Hinata glances back over her shoulder before looking back to the alley. This feels all sorts of stupid, but...her gut is telling her she needs to investigate. So, she carefully steps over the boxes and bags, thankful to feel concrete under her feet. Lifting her access palm, a light shines out from the tiny lens.

For several feet, there’s nothing. Just more cardboard and plastic. But as she lets the light go further...she sees feet.

...ohhh crap.

Gut tightening, Hinata weighs her options. If this is a body...she needs to report it. But if they’re alive...they probably need help. This isn’t exactly a place for someone to just...be. This is where someone ends up.

Hopping over more trash, she comes up closer. Legs bent at the knees and slumped forward with his back against the alleyway wall...is a man. Dark hair is a mess, and once she gets close enough...she realizes his left arm is missing.

It’s not as much of a shock as it might’ve been a few decades ago. Limbs are replaced all the time. Carefully crouching, she shines her light at the stump and finds a socket for a mod. As she suspected. Seems he’s one of the unlucky ones beaten and stripped for parts. But to be this close to a major city street...it’s a bit unnerving.

“...sir?” she murmurs, not daring yet to touch him. “Are...are you all right…?”

For a moment...nothing happens, and she fears he really is dead. But then his remaining hand twitches, and she hears a small groan.

He’s not doing well.

“Sir, um...do you -? Do you need some help? Should I take you to a medical facility?”

With great effort, he manages to loll his head back, and Hinata can’t help a gasp. His left eye socket is empty, clearly missing a mod as well. And given the damage...it’s obvious it was stolen in the same beat down. A bit of blood leaks from a corner of his mouth, staining his shirt.

So engrossed in the sight is she...she almost misses the tattoo just below his collarbone, the collar of his shirt ripped apart, likely from a grip along his shirtfront. A trio of tomoe stand out darkly in black ink against his pale skin...and it all sinks in.

This wasn’t just a robbery...this was yakuza activity. He’s an Uchiha…!

This...complicates things. She can’t bring him to a typical hospital. He’ll be arrested on the spot!

Nibbling her lip, Hinata glances behind her. No one else has found them...yet. In truth...she does know somewhere she can take him to get looked over and avoid the police. It’s just not...wholly legal. A partially underground operation she only found out by accident while working on a claim years back. She’s used it a few times since for her most desperate cases.

“...come on,” she murmurs, buttoning his shirt to hide the ink. “I know somewhere you’ll be safe. Just...just come with me, okay?”

Breaths short and curt, he watches as she stands, offering her hands. Grunting in pain, he manages to grip them with his remaining limb, letting her pull him up only to nearly collapse.

...this isn’t going to be easy.

Maneuvering him against a side and looping his arm over her shoulders, Hinata avoids the main street and instead follows the alley further down. Thankfully it’s only a few blocks to the little medical clinic. One versed in both the biological and technological sides to human health. Hopefully the woman who runs it is awake...or won’t mind being so in a few minutes. Hinata’s already called in quite a few favors, but...none like this one.

“Hold on...it’s n-not too far. I know a place that works...u-under the table.”

The Uchiha gives her a weary glance, clearly at a loss as to why she’s helping him in the first place...let alone going to such extremes. But...well, this is a bit of an emergency.

They’ll figure out the details later.

.oOo.

Cyberpunk AU! Something I've actually wanted to do for a while, but I'm shy over the genre cuz I've written VERY little of it, and not with either of these characters lol Poor Hinata...she goes out for a simple walk, ends up getting tangled up with a gangster xD I kinda wanna do more of this...we'll see if any other prompts fit down the road! But for now, that's all I got. Tomorrow's gonna be VERY busy, so I better go sleep! Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #oil and blood [ au ]#blood //#365daysofsasuhina

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starfaring-princelotor · 6 years ago

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Lotor's Gift Chapter 3 - Fire In The Sky

Hello, my darling Emperor! I hope this fanday finds you well! Here is my latest submission and installment for your reading pleasure. Still safe for work. Not for long, but it is at the moment!

Vrepit Sa!

Lotor heard the door swish closed behind him as he left you and headed for the bridge. He was troubled at the swiftness with which they were detected, and there just happened to be a fleet to intercept him? In his experience there was no such thing as coincidence.

The sound of heavy artillery fire just missing the hull was tremendous, shaking the floors as he quickened his pace. He had no doubt that Acxa would keep her head and guide them through until he got there, but he knew she wasn’t as great a pilot as he. She was still prone to minor mistakes. Unfortunately, they didn’t have room for any at the present time.

“Lotor, it’s not just one battalion!” her voice called out as he walked through the door. “It’s an entire brigade!”

His eyes shot up to the viewing screen. The scene was incredible. So many ships to dodge. They were in quite a bit of trouble, and he was going to have to depend on years of training and experience to get them away safely.

“Full shields!” he shouted. “Zethrid, we are not fighting this battle,” he snapped, anticipating her argument and cutting her off.

She glared at him. “Yes, sir,” she said, sullenly.

“The odds are not in our favor and we will not engage if we want to live to fight another day,” he said, seating himself at the helm.

He looked to his most trusted general, and she was watching him for direction. “Evasive maneuvers, Acxa. Show me what you can do,” he directed, with a grin.

She nodded, and, with a snarl, she punched in a course that immediately sent them into Mach 2, spinning around the small one manned fighters with extreme precision. Lotor was instantly impressed as he was reminded just how perfect she was to have by his side in battle.

“Sir! The Ion Cannon is preparing to fire!” Ezor shouted, directing Lotor’s focus to the Galra Flagship.

“Well, let’s see how close we can get to their main carrier, hm? Let them take out as many of our opponents as they can for us,” he said.

Acxa immediately changed direction and brought them alongside the carrier, while Zethrid was visibly shaking with adrenaline and forcing herself to lay off the blasters. The shots were hitting near them but not close enough to damage his ship. He knew they were flying too fast and maneuvering so quickly for accurate targeting, although the danger of crashing right into one of them was increasing with each passing second.

“Patience, Zethrid,” Lotor said, noticing her aggravation mounting with the lack of firing on their opponents.

“I wanna take some of them out, and not just let them use us for target practice!” she yelled.

“We waste precious resources if we do,” Lotor answered her. “We will be taking our leave as soon as that cannon fires so be ready.”

“Firing ready to commence!” Ezor called out. “Three, two, one…”

A sequence of bright lights came alive along the sides of the Ion Cannon that was mounted to the front of the flagship. Lotor knew they had seconds left, it had to be timed just right.

“Give me control!” he shouted to Acxa.

She punched the series of keys that gave Lotor navigation control of the ship. He built it, he was the best pilot, and he had saved their lives many times over. There was no doubt he would do it now as well.

He jammed the controls sharply to the right, just missing hitting the side of the carrier as the bright light of the cannon illuminated the interior of the bridge. He knew there was no room for any miscalculations if they wanted to get out alive.

Suddenly they were engulfed in a fireball from the carrier. Lotor realized the Witch’s generals aboard the Flagship were so determined to destroy him they were willing to sacrifice all those hundreds of soldiers onboard their own carriers to do it. He hit the warp sequence and immediately jumped to a hyper speed, one he knew the battalion would be unable to match. It was his own special modification to his ship.

Once he was sure they were safely away he took a deep breath and slumped back into his chair. All those lives wasted, and for what? It was so senseless. He was getting tired of leaving a trail of innocent blood wherever he went.

“Wow, Lotor, that was intense,” Ezor said. “I thought they had us for sure.”

He opened his eyes, looking at the four of them with relief. “Yes, well, they are motivated with the desire to see me dead, so they really have nothing to lose, now do they?”

“What? See you dead?” Ezor exclaimed. “I thought they wanted you to help rule the Empire!”

Lotor shook his head, eyes cast to the floor. “I believe that particular ship has sailed, so to speak,” he said. “No matter, we will continue with our plans as scheduled. It will be in our benefit to not have to worry about daily political life.” He raised his eyes to see Narti directly facing him, as if trying to read his true feelings of the new situation.

“I don’t envy what Haggar will do to them once they return to the base,” Acxa said, quietly. He turned to gaze at her, a look of pride graced his features.

“It’s got to be easier to die,” Zethrid said. “I know I’d rather be obliterated in battle than tied down and tortured by her Druids.”

Lotor rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, tenting his hands in front of his face. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders.

“Ezor, I thought I explicitly told you our guest was not to be harmed,” he said, glancing over to her and seeing the shock register on her face at the abrupt change of topics.

“She, she wouldn’t stop fighting! Even once the packet broke and she was supposed to be knocked out,” she said. “You ordered me to incapacitate her, so I had to improvise.”

“She was injured,” he said, lowly. “I tended to her and she will be alright, but I’m not pleased about this. Keep it in mind for the future. You will not disobey my orders. Is that understood?”

Her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I will not overstep again. I apologize,” she said, the fear evident in her tone.

He stood up. “See that you remember this, and I’ll do my best to forget it,” he said, looking down at her.

“Sir, I found the bug and had it destroyed.” Acxa said. “It had been attached to the underside of your personal ship while we were engaged in the rescue of your little space girlfriend.”

“Hmmm, Acxa, you sound a little put out by my newest acquisition,” he said, looking at her with a smirk.

“I still don’t understand what you think you can gain from her,” Acxa said. “She has no real power, she has abandoned her station so she has no new information to give you, she isn’t even that striking…”

Lotor chuckled. “You sound jealous, my dear,” he said, shaking his head with feigned disbelief.

“Jealous?” she said, raising her voice. “Believe me, sir, you are definitely not my type.”

“Yeah, she likes them a little shorter and more Paladin-like,” Ezor teased.

Acxa glared at her with daggers in her eyes, lip curling into a snarl.

“Enough, my dears,” he said. “We have other matters to attend to just now. Acxa, please set a course to a remote area of the neutral zone, preferably closer to the coalition spaces. They’ll draw fire if my father decides he wants to try anything.”

She nodded and began plotting the flight plan.

“Ezor, you and Narti will take a detailed scan of the ship to verify we haven’t sustained any damage from this skirmish.”

“Yes, sir,” she sighed, still feeling the sting of being reprimanded. Narti nodded and her cat, Kova, jumped up to her shoulder.

“And Zethrid?” he said, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Yes Lotor?” she answered. “You actually have something for me?”

“A little investigation. You are to see what chatter you can pick up about any plans of assassination against me,” he said. “I’ve heard some rumors and want to test their validity before I plan my next course of action with that particular situation.”

“You mean other than the fight we just escaped from and that guard telling your little prisoner you were a, quote fucking traitor?” she said, incredulously. “I can’t understand what made you come to this conclusion.”

Lotor’s face flinched a little at the revelation but continued giving orders. “Once you’re done listening for chatter you should spar a bit. Narti and Ezor can join you when they’ve finished their inspections. Let go some of that tension. I’ll be in my quarters for now.” He turned to leave the bridge, anxious to be alone with his own thoughts and a bottle of wine.

“Oh?” Acxa said. “Not going to the medical wing and tending to your newest project?”

“No, not at the moment. She will be asleep as a result of the medications I administered, and I have strategizing to do,” he said, not rising to take Acxa’s bait. “I am not to be disturbed unless we are in imminent danger.”

He walked off the bridge, relieved in the knowledge that they would all live to see another day.

#lotor x reader #fandomday #submission

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clairen45 · 6 years ago

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Digging into Rey and Kylo’s Spotify Playlists- part 1: episode 7 songs

The Shut Up and Dance with Me post really pushed me to go through the songs from the Spotify playlists and give you the lowdown, as I see it. That these lists even exist is beyond me! And, just to be clear, these lists have been released in 2015 pre-TFA. With no modification, even pre or post TLJ. No added material. If anything, they actually removed some songs from the lists: 2 for Kylo and 3 for Rey. I don’t think the changes necessarily meant that the songs were too revealing or, on the contrary, didn’t fit the characters anymore. It might just be copyright or legal issue or some artistic differences or god knows what. But again, the point of these lists were to get to know the characters a little better. Some characters we already knew of course, the big three ( Luke, Leia, Han Solo), but also Obi-Wan and Yoda, a list for Anakin and a list for Vader, Padmé, Mace Windu, Bobba Fett, Chewbacca... Lists for new characters: Finn, BB8... surprisingly no Poe Dameron. By the way, I think the Dark Side’ list is super interesting! And of course Rey and Kylo. Rey’s list is full of pop, girl empowerment anthem kind of songs, with a few romantic ballads, which already meant something. Kylo’s is of course full of angsty rock. I don’t want to comment on the genre. My mission was less on the musical genres than on the lyrics and how they can shed some light on the characters and their fates. Because, sure, a team chose these songs to let us know about the characters but, honestly, guys, I think somebody let them in on the rough draft of the whole ST. Because post TLJ it is obvious that a lot of songs apply to what happened as far as Rey and Kylo are concerned in this movie. And since we have our bunch of ep 7 songs, and a bunch of ep 8 songs, well, it appears a bunch of songs don’t fit either and could very well give us key information about ep 9. Before I get accused again of “reaching” (LOL), let us be honest: I think they put a lot of care into those playlists. So no, I don’t think coincidences are accidental. And yes, I think it’s fair to speculate about episode 9 looking at the songs. So let’s take the journey and crack these songs together.

There are 53 songs for Kylo (I am excluding the original soundtrack every time) and 54 for Rey. Rey’s playlist also has tunes in common with Padmé, Leia, and Luke. 4 songs in common with Padmé, quite a lot: Smoke and Fire, Rich Girl, Fighter, and Bulletproof. With Leia: Smoke and Fire, and the fact that they both have Love is a Battlefield, except that Leia is Pat Benatar’s song, and Rey’s is Jordin Spark’s song. Same title, different songs. This marks Rey as the “heiress” to these two heroines, which is not surprising. I think it is quite remarkable that she shares so many songs with Padmé, as regards the Anidala inversion we always talk about. Rich Girl, in particular, because Padmé was a Queen, so yes, the rich girl, whereas in Rey’s case the song is ironic. Rey also shares 2 song with Luke: Wild by Troye Sivan (I honestly don’t get what this song does on Luke’s playlist, so that must mean something potentially), and Adventure of a Lifetime. With Luke as a mentor to Rey in ep 8, that would kind of make sense that they would share something. I honestly merely skimmed through all the playlists, but Rey and Kylo seem to be the only one who share songs with other characters (if I am wrong, please correct me). Kylo shares 3 songs, 1 with Anakin (and NOT Vader), Bored to Death, 1 with BB8, Destroy the Map, and one with Mace Windu on You want a Battle (Here’s War). Interesting also. I won’t necessarily comment on that today, because there is a lot to go through, but these are thoughts to save and process later maybe.

Some songs can also fit two, maybe the three, episodes. And also, I have noticed something very interesting in Rey’s playlist: a lot of songs that feature in her playlist seem to be more from Kylo’s POV (like Shut up and Dance). They should normally feature on his list but because they would break away from the others in terms of genre, it is probably how they ended on Rey’s list. I found on Kylo’s playlist 1 song that, to me, should rather feature on Rey’s list, but again, would seem odd in terms of genre.

1.KYLO’S LIST/ EPISODE 7

Kylo’s list also seems way more descriptive about his character, angst, inner conflict, feelings of pain and revenge, than Rey’s list. There is a lot of songs talking about past abuse and family conflict. Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson is a good example: “ Some of them want to use you/ Some of them want to get used by you/ Some of them want to abuse you/ Some of them want to be abused”. References to dreams and nightmares in Kylo’s playlist are also quite noteworthy because they tie in with Rey’s visions as described in TFA: she hears voices in her dreams, and when she first sees Kylo, she knows that she has seen him before “in a dream, in a nightmare”. We can also find some parallels with the plot in episode 7: the Jakku massacre, meeting Rey, killing Han... Recurring themes are, without surprise, fire, death, suffering, dreams and nightmares...

This Means War (Avenged Sevendold). That song is packed with so much about his feelings and his introduction in the ST. It goes on and on really. I could quote the whole thing. But here are the highlights :

Hide my face again, harbor in the shadows (duh!) Feel this weight of sin hammering away Die, with the guilt of a thousand AWOL soldiers (The pull to the light) Die, watch the scythe usher me astray (Lor San Tekka’s execution)

The ugly side of me is strong

Carry me to nowhere (Jakku is nowhere!) Lie!Mask the pain Of a child who's forsaken Lie! To myself Praise the new regime (honestly, did they write the song for Kylo?)

I left me long ago Reasons you'll never know No one to miss me when I'm gone With no more words to say No argument to stay. Another post I don't belong (Lor San Tekka: The First Order rose from the dark side. You did not)

No home to call my own No finding someone new No one to break the fall No one to see me through No name to carry on No promise for today No one to hear the call (Oh hon, hang on, the girl is coming!) Buy into the fear (Rey: You are afraid!) My serpent blood can strike so cold (Murderous snake! again) Another thought I can't control (Force bond much?)

Elements of TFA Plot:

Legion of Evil (OFF): “Break down houses”, “ Mystery crews on a murderous spree” (the opening on Jakku, with his mysterious identity) but also “Retaliation against horrible gods/Treasonous snakes with gentlemen's lies/ Waving a false flag to sell the deception” which of course are reminiscent of his line to Rey about the Resistance: “ You mean the murderers traitors and thieves you call your friends ? “. But can also ironically evoke Snoke’s influence on him: he is the treasonous snake with gentlemen’s lies. Or even to him as seen from Rey’s POV in 7 and at the beginning of TLJ: “a treasonous snake”/ “murderous snake”/ “liar”...

The Red (Chevelle) and Evil Eye (Franz Ferdinand), both emphasize the color red, which is Kylo’s color theme.Thunder and Lightning (Motorhead”, “ Maybe you'll die, maybe you'll fly/ Fire in the sky, thunder and lightning”. Heart of Fire (Black Veil Brides): “ I feel alive inside I won't be terrorized, I'll take all the blame/This heart of fire is burning proud/ I am every dream you lost and never found/ This heart of fire is stronger now”. Also the attack on Jakku.

The Map plot: R2 where are U (Flying Lotus): it takes both BB8 and R2 to find Luke’s hideout. This song is also on BB8′s list by the way. Destroy the Map (36 Crazy Fists). Obviously the title is interesting because Kylo gives up on the map and gets Rey instead. The song presents some other interesting points: something that could evoke Starkiller base “ And the clouds don't break when the sun is on empty” , and also something that seems to fit straight into TLJ: “You couldn't hold your mouth to stop the sound/ With all these riches on the tip of your tongue/And I was trying to dampen it all out/You were talking louder than I should here/Producing nothing but all these mirrors”, “ Where the baptized drown/We used to breathe” (Rey in the cave) “This time, our time, we have, we'll last”. So gain some songs can actually fit more than 1 episode.

Failing on Starkiller: beaten up by Rey, never got the intel about Luke... At least I’m known for something (New Found Glory): “ I've figured out my situation/ I am an endless source of useless information/ Give me bad news could be something expecting/ I let my front down/ And I know I will regret it/ /But you don't know that and I'm the one to blame for it/'Cause I'm destined for failure“. More Starkiller: My own Summer (Deftones): “ Hey you, big star/ Tell me when it's over”.

Family and Han:

Refusing his legacy. War on the Palaces (Refused):

I carry history with me I carry hope (I see you Ben You are My Only Hope Solo!!!!) All the nameless faces before us Let's carry them all

I wanna carry the dead (his attachment for Vader instead of the living members of his family) Wage war on the palaces

Bored to Death (Blink 182): “ And it's a long way back from seventeen/The whispers turn into a scream/And I'm, I'm not coming home/Save your breath, I'm nearly/ Bored to death”. Mene (Brand New): “ My father spoke of prophecy/ To think that I believed is self-centered of me/There was something I was trying to say/ But then I choked on it and now it's getting kind of late” (@madandmisquoted did a meta on how Kylo mumbles “I love you dad”+ “It is too late”). Indestructible (Rancid): “ It's so fake now, everything I see right through/I'm ashamed now to say I ever know you” evoke his scene with Han. I don’t wanna Hear It (Minor Threat): “ I don't want to hear it/ I'm sick and tired of all your lies/ I don't want to hear it/ When are you gonna realize.”. Family and mommy issues: Down With the Sickness (Disturbed): “ It seems what's left of my human side/ Is slowly changing in me”, “ It seems you're having some trouble/ In dealing with these changes/ Living with these changes / The world is a scary place/ Now that you've woken up the demon in me”, “ No mommy, don't do it again/Don't do it again/ I'll be a good boy/I'll be a good boy, I promise No mommy don't hit me/ Why did you have to hit me like that, mommy?”.

Conflict

Got the Life (Korn): “Hate, something, someway, each day, dealing with no forgiveness/ Why? This shit inside/ Now everyone will follow/ So give me nothing just feel/ And now this shit will follow/ God begs me, the more I see the light, who wants to see?”. Strife (Trivium): “ I reach for calm/ I starve for a balance unknown/ This burden tortures me deep in my soul” ; “ Guilt buries me alive/ In a coffin criticized/ I shouldered the blame and dug this hole for me to lay in”. Duality (Slipknot). The title says it all, but it definitely applies to the scene with Han: “ You cannot kill what you did not create”; “Pull me back together/ Or separate the skin from the bone/ Leave me all the pieces, and then you can leave me alone” (Can apply to “I’m feeling torn apart”, “I killed your son, he was foolish and weak” ).

The Girl

I know that’s what you’ve been waiting for. There are 2 major songs about Rey in that list and one them has been removed, A Cross and a Girl Named Bless (Evans Blue). That song presents some elements that stretch all the way to 9. I’m including it here, because of the obvious reference to the way they meet on Takodana:

She's holding out for weapons to kill the ghosts inside (She shoots at a ghostlike figure in the forest)

Or at least kill the thoughts she has of killing her mind (Get out of my head!)

She says "I love you" with her hands (TLJ: Smut Hut)

She says "I hate you" with her eyes (You have that look from the forest..)

There's a pretty girl somewhere with a pretty name (What girl?)

But I could never let you know how much this means I swear we'll end this war, because we both know

It wasn't worth fighting for (Major episode IX spoiler)

She, she said to me I will be driving in the wrong direction Did you ever think that maybe your life

Is heading in the wrong direction, baby? (Throne Room Scene)

There's a cross up on the wall See from the corner of your eye When you're down on you knees...and she's begging please So go and lay back down tonight Because you won't know who you are

Until you're down on your knees...your begging please (End of TLJ, Crait)

The other big song is The Answer (Savages):

Wish me luck This was a hard year And I can't see No brighter future Wish me luck I saw the answer It was a girl (What girl?) Will you go ask her (Interrogation scene, the girl is all we need) I saw the answer Will you go ask her Love is the answer

Evil (Interpol): “ Heaven restores you in life/ You're coming with me/ Through the aging, the fearing, the strife/ It's the smiling on the package/ It's the faces in the sand” (the abduction, Rey is literally a face in the sand, the smile...), “You're weightless, semi-erotic/ You need someone to take you there/Sandy, why can't we look the other way?/Why can't we just play the other game?” (he carries her in his arms like a feather, You need a teacher!).

There is also a song there that is all about Rey’s POV on Kylo in TFA. Headstrong (Trapt) screams Rey during the interrogation scene. But, again, they couldn’t have put it on her playlist so it features on his instead.

Circling your head contemplating everything you ever said (getting in HIS head) Now I see the truth I got a doubt (You... are afraid you will never be as trong as Darth Vader!) A different motive in your eyes and now I'm out (escapes the interrogation room) See you later I see your fantasies You wanna make it a reality baby paved in gold See inside, inside of our heads yeah Well now that's over

Back off I'll take you on (Forest duel) Headstrong to take on anyone (Come on, that is SO Rey!) I know that you are wrong Headstrong we're Headstrong Back off I'll take you on Headstrong to take on anyone I know that you are wrong This is not where you belong (Trying to turn him in 8)

I can't give everything away (I won’t give you anything!) I won't give everything away

2.REY’S PLAYLIST/EPISODE 7

JAKKU

There are songs about Rey’s life conditions on Jakku. Poverty in Rich Girl (Gwen Stefani): “ If I was a rich girl/ See, I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl/ No man could test me, impress me, my cash flow would never ever end/ Cause I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl”. Of course the morale of the song is “All the riches in the world don’t mean anything without your love”. To remind us that if Rey has dreams it’s mostly about finding love and belonging. Interesting that she shares this song with Padmé who had the riches + the love and still didn’t get her happy ever after, but more on that later...

New Americana (Halsey) about survival of the fittest, the daily struggle of poverty, social divide. That one is also interesting because of its reference to James Dean: “ Young James Dean, some say/ He looks just like his father”. There is also the big reveal about Kylo being Han’s son. I think it’s probably how they first imagined Kylo, as a hypersensitive, rebellious, angsty youth, a character from East of Eden (another reference to Eden). The character played by James Dean, in Elia Kazan’s adaptation of Steinbeck’s famous novel, is Cal, a rebellious son who believes his father does not love him and sees him as evil incarnate. Kylo much?

Daylight (Matt and Kim) can also be about home and Jakku: “I miss yellow lines in my roads/ Some color on monochrone”, ‘Cause the daylight anywhere feels like home”. In TFA she wants to go back to Jakku. Rey is also used to having to fight for her survival: “ Murder lives forever/And so does war/ It's survival of the fittest/ Rich against the poor/ At the end of the day/ It's a human trait/ Hidden deep down inside of our DNA”.

Some songs talk about Rey’s dreams and her feelings of loneliness.Chandelier (Sia): “I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist/ Like it doesn't exist/ I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night,/ Feel my tears as they dry”. How she lives on a day to day basis and feels lonely all the time. Wake Me Up (Avicii):

Feeling my way through the darkness Guided by a beating heart I can't tell where the journey will end But I know where to start They tell me I'm too young to understand They say I'm caught up in a dream Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes Well that's fine by me (stuck waiting on Jakku)

So wake me up when it's all over When I'm wiser and I'm older All this time I was finding myself And I didn't know I was lost

I tried carrying the weight of the world (Literally her job as a scavenger) But I only have two hands I hope I get the chance to travel the world And I don't have any plans I wish that I could stay forever this young Not afraid to close my eyes Life's a game made for everyone And love is a prize

THE FIGHTER

Of course songs about Rey, the independent girl, the fighter... Fighter (Christina Aguilera): “ 'Cause it makes me that much stronger/ Makes me work a little bit harder/ It makes me that much wiser/ So thanks for making me a fighter/ Made me learn a little bit faster/ Made my skin a little bit thicker/ Makes me that much smarter/ So thanks for making me a fighter”. Another song shared with Padmé. I know the song is about a guy that cheated on the girl and lied to her, but rather than about Kylo, this song can apply to a lot of people in Rey’s life: her parents, Unkar Plutt, and all the people she’s had to deal with since childhood. There is Run the World (Beyoncé) that could also be foreshadowing for episode ix. Kelly Clarkson’s Miss Independent, with the perfect title for Rey’s episode 7, but the message about love in this song actually fits better episode 8. Roar (Katy Perry): empowerment anthem, plus Rey looks like a lioness at the end of TFA, baring her teeth and snarling at Kylo. Possibly Piece of Me (Britney Spears).

Confident (Demi Lovato) fits well with Roar. That one screams end of TFA with beating Kylo down.

It's time for me to take it I'm the boss right now Not gonna fake it Not when you go down 'Cause this is my game And you better come to play

I used to hold my freak back

Now I'm letting go

I make my own choice (accepting the saber)

Bitch, I run this show So leave the lights on No, you can't make me behave

So you say I'm complicated

That I must be outta my mind But you had me underrated Rated, rated

What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being

What's wrong with being confident?

There is the teaser song about Rey’s origin. That’s Not my Name (The Ting Things). Well, in TFA everybody is asking about her identity, about “the girl”, wo that would make sense to have this song. Rey might not even be her name after all, though she is old enough when her parents sell her to remember it; Does it mean we will l get a new name in ix? Maybe. Or just Rey Solo. I think the song is really there for the fun about the possible identity of Rey...

THE ESCAPE

Songs about Rey leaving Jakku and becoming a pilot. Obviously: Starships (Nicki Minaj) because “starships are meant to fly”. Boom Boom Pow (The BEP): “ I'm on that supersonic boom/ Y'all hear the spaceship zoom”. Alive Tonight (Grace Potter), for these lines: “In the dark of the desert/ I saw a man with a sign, it said/ People get ready, 'cause it's all over/ It's all gonna end tonight, well” ( On Jakku, Lor San Tekka is the man with the intel about Luke promising that “this will begin to make things right”, and eventually this sign gets to Rey through BB8 at dusk in the desert). I also like these lines: “ You wanna get in on the action, you want/ Everyone to listen to you, oh/ You're just living in a prediction/ And that don't, that don't make it true, no” which fits the fact that things will not be as simple as Rey thinks. Also about the end of Rey’s time on Jakku, The Dog Days are Over (Florence+ the Machines): “The dog days are over/The dog days are done/ The horses are coming so you better run”. These lines are great: “Leave all your love and your longing behind you/ Can't carry it with you if you want to survive”, about giving up on Jakku and close to Maz’s line about “the belonging you seek is not behind you”.

MEETING KYLO

Now, with songs that reflect on meeting Kylo... There is Gibberish (Max): “ But then I caught you creepin'/ Secrets that you were keepin”, which could fit the interrogation scene. Or the title could just refer to the fact that Rey seems to understand every language she meets (BB8, Chewie...). LOL. Obviously, the beautiful Yes Girl (Bea Miller):

I got you figured out, you need to have control You think that I don't know you, I know you, I know Trying to tell you now, I've been doing what you want But I won't be your yes girl, no, not anymore

And these even better lines: “ And now you're my favorite sin, oh/ Cause I'm either on your side or you're a mile away” (which fits TLJ better). There is Focus (Ariana Grande): “ I can tell you're curious/ It's written on your lips/ Ain't no need to hold it back/ Go ahead and talk your shit/ I know you're hoping that I'll react/ I know you're hoping I'm looking back/ But if my real ain't real enough/ Then I don't know what is” (again, mood for the interrogation scene). Also like that line: “ Let's find a light inside our universe now/ Where ain't nobody keep on holding us down”.

That one seems really more to me from Kylo’s POV when Rey leaves for the MF at the end of TFA. We Come Running (Youngblood Hawke):

Headed for the open door Tell me what you're waiting for (Rey is coded as the waiting one) Look across the great divide (the ground falling apart between them) Soon they're gonna hear The sound, the sound, the sound (Boom goes Starkiller) When we come running Never go where we belong (obviously, they parted ways when they should be together) Echoes in the dead of dawn (Force bond foreshadowing echoes?) Soon they're gonna know The sound, the sound, the sound When we come running

And also that one: Force of Nature (Bea Miller). That one really fits Kylo in TFA as he starts falling for Rey during their duel on Starkiller: I don't know why but my hands are shaking I can see you coming and I stand here waiting (Didn’t put up much of a fight, honestly) Yeah I get tongue tied in the conversation (Lost the interrogation scene fight) It's an F'd up, bad, sick situationI tried to tie my heart down, board up all the windows Oh but it's too late now (Too late is classic Kylo) I let you get too close (like inside my head) I know I should take cover, hide inside these four walls But baby I surrender, it all'Cause you're a force of nature (Marry Me Face) Look at what you've done I can taste the danger but I don't wanna run So pull me to the ground and I won't put up a fight (End of the fight) I'm a caution taker, but baby you're a force of nature Baby you're a force of natureI feel your lips move in and they take me under (The Force? Mesmerized in looking at her) You know just what to do, how to make me want you And I know I'll be broken when it's over Oh but I can't help but pull you closerI'll be here 'till we collide I don't care if I survive So crash into me one more time

Say what you want, but this beautiful ballad is all about Kylo’s feelings for Rey!

BONUS: THE INVERSE ANIDALA SONG?

There’s an intriguing tune in Kylo’s playlist. Incorporeal (Tiger Army).

I’m gone I died long ago but my spirit still roams (Incorporeal) Unwanted in heaven, forgotten in hell as on earth (Incorporeal) I don't want to stay here, it seems that I'll never be free Oh can you hear me? (no) And so It has come to be that I must wander forever (Incorporeal) Many things I have seen, empires that rise and then fall (Incorporeal) A life you live long is simply a moment to me A tiny drop of water in the sea of eternity There's no place for me everywhere that I go Only seems to bring upset and harm There's one thing that I want and one thing only Release into the great beyond Don't want to remember when I was alive When I held my true love in my arms For like you I once was, and like me you shall be When you Feel a chill in the night perhaps it's me saying hello (Incorporeal) You're so much like my love though she lived in a long ago time (Incorporeal) I long to see her, the day when my soul's laid to rest The peace that I can not find in life, I can find in death

Honestly, this song makes me want to scream!!! Heavy reincarnation theme. Especially when you cross that with Rey sharing 4 songs with Padmé. And with the fact that Anakin (not Vader) and Kylo share a song. And the song I mentioned, Rich Girl. Rey is the inverse Padmé already, right? She’s the younger one in the couple, and she is poor with a low status. Again, Padmé has everything (the riches and the guy) and didn’t end up happy. By sharing songs, it might be another hint that Rey will succeed where Padmé didn’t.

This is it for 7, guys. It is quite a beast. 34 songs left to go through in Rey’s playlist, 25 for Kylo.

#rey and kylo spotify playlists #those playlists have a tale to tell #reylo #reylo fandom #reylo evidence #reylo meta #inverse anidala

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thanksfornothinguselessreptile · 6 years ago

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A Shifting World Chapter 7: The Mystery of the Enraged Thunderdrum

First Chapter

<–Previous

Work Summary: Things have been going great since Hiccup and Toothless have defeated the Red Death. He has his father’s approval, a group of friends his own age, and is leading the integration of dragons and the Vikings of Berk. When neighboring tribes call together a meeting to discuss rumors of Vikings riding dragons, however, Stoick decides to keep their alliance with dragons under wraps. Hiccup must decide whether he should listen to his father or seek to teach the other Vikings of the archipelago the truths about dragons.

AO3

Rating: T

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Stoick, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout

Pairings: Minor Hiccup x Astrid

Chapter Summary: A delay on the way to the Thing causes more than one problem to raise its head.

Chapter Warnings: Death Mention, Murder Mention

Stoick pinched his nose. “So the twins are following us.”

“Yep.” Hiccup nodded and resisted the urge to mirror Stoick’s gesture.

Stoick sighed and shook his head. “And there’s no chance of convincing them to go back home, is there?” He didn’t sound like he was holding out any hope for a “yes.”

Hiccup shrugged. “If you have any ideas, I’m all ears.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me because…” Stoick narrowed his gaze at him. While Hiccup still felt nervous of admitting the truth, that glare put to rest any thoughts of not admitting the truth

“Because I knew you were against Toothless coming with us, but I also didn’t want you to send him away when he could help us find out why that Thunderdrum is attacking ships.” He shrugged and tried to continue meeting Stoick’s eyes.

With a hand to his forehead, Stoick cast his gaze across the ship to the Thunderdrum. Ever since he’d been captured, he’d thrashed and tried to free himself from the net. Fortunately, it’d held out so far. But Hiccup knew that even if the material could withstand days of preventing that dragon from breaking free, this couldn’t be a permanent solution.

“Look,” Stoick said, his words heavy. “I want a peaceful solution to these sorts of things as much as you do. Every conflict resolved without death or injury is a victory in my book. But there was no guarantee that we would’ve found that Thunderdrum, and no guarantee that you and Toothless could reason with him. ”

“But if there is a chance of finding a peaceful solution to this, shouldn’t we at least try?” Hiccup tried to keep his voice from rising. He couldn’t just… just sit there and do nothing while dragons and humans were fighting. Not anymore.

Stoick pinched the bridge of the nose, looking for all the world like a man who’d just been charged with wrangling Fenrir with his bare hands.

After a moment, Stoick spoke up. “Under ordinary circumstances, son, I would say you’d be right. But this situation is more complicated than that.”

Hiccup frowned. Sure, he understood the need to prevent any wars from breaking out, and he knew that could get more complicated than just saying to the other tribes, “Hey, let’s not start a war.” But it also wasn’t complicated that extending the peace with dragons to the other tribes was the right thing to do.

Before he could ask, Stoick gestured out to the sea over the bow and continued. “When we’re at the Thing, we are more than just leaders of Berk. We become our people’s representatives. You, me, your friends, everyone here has the duty of representing the people back home, and representing them well.” Stoick’s face seemed to harden as he scanned the skies. “Which is why your friends following after us might not bode well, especially if they’re not on their best behavior.” He dragged a hand over his eyes and down his beard, visibly trying to relax. “The other tribes are already tense from trying to keep the peace and deal with the possibility of Vikings allying themselves with their oldest enemies. If they catch us sheltering even a single dragon and jump to conclusions, how do you think that’ll reflect on Berk?”

“But what if they’re interested in how we live with dragons without killing them?” Hiccup wondered why Stoick wouldn’t take the chance. It was risky, but wasn’t it worth it?

Stoick shook his head. “Think about it, Hiccup. If the other tribes believed that us working with the dragons was an act of war, they would come for all of us, not just you and Toothless. Including those unable to fight. Would you be willing to pay the price that might come from a failure to change their minds?”

A cough from over Hiccup’s shoulder nearly made him stumble overboard from shock. “Chief,” Spitelout said, pointedly ignoring Hiccup’s start. “We’ve spotted a Terrible Terror approaching the stern.”

Stoick sighed and met Spitelout’s gaze. “One of ours, I hope?”

Spitelout nodded. “Aye, according to the Ingerman boy.”

With a nod of acknowledgement and dismissal, Stoick glanced back at Hiccup. “Think on that, son.”

Hiccup swallowed as Stoick left, the deck creaking under his boots.

It won’t come to war, he told himself. Surely the other tribes would see reason in a world where no one had to die. And Berk was only behind the Peaceables with how well they got along with the other tribes. Well, Hooligans and Bog Burglars were a little on the overly competitive side, but surely even they respected that Stoick, his father, and his father’s father had all done their best to get along with their neighbors for years?

Someone jostled Hiccup’s shoulder, and once again Hiccup nearly fell over.

“Sorry.” Toothless’s brow was set into a concerned expression. “Are you okay?”

Hiccup gave him a smile and hoped he didn’t look too upset. “Yeah, bud, I’m fine. Didn’t mean to worry you there.”

Toothless didn’t look too convinced.

“Come on.” Hiccup tilted his head toward the stern. “Let’s go see what message that Terror has.”

He turned and walked away before Toothless could react.

Stoick walked between the rowers’ seats, newly removed from the hold, and as close to the stern as he could without getting too near the Thunderdrum. Minutes later, a yellow Terror flew over the stern, a sealskin bundle in their jaws. They immediately hovered in front of Stoick and squawked something in Dragonese Hiccup couldn’t yet understand.

Stoick held out his arm level to the deck. The Terror paused and inspected the arm, started to hover closer, then pulled back. In response, Stoick extended his arm further from his body. That seemed to do the trick as the messenger finally lit down on his bracer. Still, they kept their wings partially unfurled and raised as if ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

Stoick held out a palm and let the dragon drop the sealskin into his hand. “Thank you,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm, and then handed the package to Mulch.

Mulch unwrapped the hide to reveal a small rolled up stack of papers. “It appears to be a message from Gobber.” With that, he offered the papers to Stoick.

Stoick paused to let the Terrible Terror leap onto the rigging, then opened the papers. “Let’s see.” His eyes glanced across the page. “He says that Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston and their dragon have left Berk, as well as Toothless.”

The rest of the ship, who’d been half-watching Stoick regardless of whatever they’d been doing, grumbled as one. Equally in unison, they busied themselves with their work with far more vigor than was believable when Stoick glared over at them.

“What else?” Hiccup asked, hoping that he’d been exempt from that dismissal.

Stoick straightened the papers. “Nothing much, really. All ships expected back have returned, so far, and Darby’s made blueprints from some renovations to the dragon shelters.”

Hiccup tilted his head. “Dragon shelters?” He hadn’t recalled Stoick mentioning anything about changing them, and they were rather new for any changes.

“Yep.” Stoick brushed his hand along his beard, his eyes still fixed on the letter. “Since the other tribes are tense regarding the rumors of dragon riders, the Berk Council and I figured we had to practice extra caution in case of curious or suspicious visitors. Therefore, I commissioned Darby to draw up plans of modifications to allow us to disguise the shelters as storehouses and other more conventional buildings in case those visitors got too nosy. And from the sounds of it, they more than came through.” He glanced at the rest of the letter, and then nodded as if it met his standards. “I’ll have to let Gobber know his suspicions of where the Thorston twins and Toothless went were correct, and that we’re sending Toothless back after he’s done translating for us.” He looked at Hiccup. “Think you can handle that?”

Hiccup nodded. “Gotcha, Dad.” He tried to sound serious and responsible, not excited.

Stoick dipped his head in acknowledgement and headed back to the bow of the ship.

Hiccup glanced over at Toothless. He’d been sitting on his hind legs, chatting to the Terrible Terror who’d perched in the rigging, but as Stoick passed he said his farewell and turned to Hiccup.

“You ready to translate, bud?” he asked.

“Yes.” Hiccup could see the same excitement in Toothless’s eyes that he knew was in his.

Hiccup drew a steadying breath. “Okay, then. Let’s begin.”

As they approached the stern of the ship, the Thunderdrum began to thrash more than he already was. His yellow eyes were fixed onto Toothless’s green, narrowed as if expressing defiance toward certain death.

Hiccup felt his excitement get pushed aside by the seriousness of the situation. He got the feeling that he’d be more of a challenge to bring around to being neutral, at least, to Vikings than any other dragon he’d faced.

“Okay, bud, let’s try this.” Hiccup took a deep breath as he tried to calm his heart before speaking. “Why are you attacking our ship? Berk is at peace with dragons now.”

As Toothless translated the words, the Thunderdrum narrowed his gaze. His narrowed pupils glanced from Toothless to Hiccup before addressing the other dragon. Hiccup couldn’t understand much of what he was saying.

After the Thunderdrum finished speaking, Toothless turned to Hiccup with a grim expression. When he spoke, he spoke as if he was choosing each word carefully.

“He does not…” Toothless broke out into a thoughtful warble, partially closing his eyes. “He does not speak --- fire –- the ship.”

Hiccup, for a moment, was confused. Why would Toothless mention fire if there’d been none on the ship? But then, he remembered that he didn’t know the Dragonese word for attack. “Fire” likely would’ve been the closest alternative Toothless could think of on the spot.

“So he refuses to say why he attacked the ship?” He wasn’t quite confident that he’d understood right, so to hear Toothless warble out a yes and nod made him relax slightly. Despite that, though, he was still left with a big question. If the dragon refused to answer that, then how could he and Toothless figure out what was wrong and fix it?

He forced himself not to linger on the question and asked his next one. “Then will he say if he’s alone?” If Fishlegs was certain that Thunderdrums traveled in groups, then it was true. Which made Hiccup wonder why this Thunderdrum attacked, alone, especially if he was an adolescent.

Toothless turned and asked the dragon the question. The Thunderdrum’s body tensed, the spines running along their back rising as much as the net allowed them to. They snarled out a word Hiccup didn’t need Toothless to translate.

“Yes.”

Toothless turned toward Hiccup, his ears upright in preparation for another question.

Well, Hiccup sure didn’t believe that last answer, but what could he do about it? It wasn’t like asking again would get anything truthful out of them.

“Okay, if that’s how it’s going to be, I have just one more question.” Hiccup found that he’d placed his hands together and had used them to gesture at the dragon. He hoped that pleading looked different in dragons than Vikings. “Is anyone else behind this attack?”

Toothless’s ear flicked in surprise, but he turned and translated the sentence. Hiccup watched the Thunderdrum carefully as he narrowed his eyes. He almost seemed offended to be asked that question.

“No.” This time, Hiccup was sure it was the truth; they didn’t seem the slightest bit tense about answering the question.

Hiccup was surprised by his shoulders relaxing; he hadn’t even noticed they were tense. “Right. Thank you for your answers. I’ll, uh, go talk to my dad and see if we can get this sorted out.” Stoick wasn’t going to be very happy about the lack of results, but at the very least they’d confirmed that there wasn’t another Red Death pulling the strings. That, at least, was a mercy.

He waited for Toothless to translate that message, and witnessed the Thunderdrum snort and shake his head. With that, he turned around to meet with his dad.

“Well? What did he say?” Fishlegs’s voice made Hiccup stumble with surprise as he turned toward it.

Sure enough, he was approaching, along with Astrid and Snotlout. While Astrid looked more collected than Fishlegs was, he could tell from her wide, questioning eyes that she was still curious. Snotlout was staring at him with narrowed eyes and arms crossed over his chest, but he didn’t seem to be there unwillingly.

Hiccup gestured for everyone to follow him toward the middle of the ship, far enough away where he could speak without the Thunderdrum listening in.

“So what juicy gossip did you get from that dragon?” Snotlout crossed his arms and sneered at Hiccup, clearly not expecting much.

Hiccup made sure he spoke in a quiet voice, just loud enough for his friends to hear. “He refuses to say why he attacked us–”

Snotlout snorted and rolled his eyes. “Typical.”

“But?” Astrid prompted, giving Snotlout a glare from the corner of her eye.

“But he isn’t attacking on anyone else’s orders.” He breathed out a sigh, and saw the others relax a little bit as well. “But when he said he was alone, I’m pretty sure he was lying.” He glanced over at Toothless. “What do you think, bud?”

Toothless nodded. “Yes.”

“Why do you think they haven’t attacked us yet?” Astrid’s gaze was now scanning the horizon as if searching for more Thunderdrums.

Fishlegs hummed. “I don’t know. Thunderdrums do live in groups, but for an adolescent to travel alone, let alone attack a ship…” He shrugged. “It’s pretty much unheard of. The adults should’ve come looking for him a lot sooner.”

“Oh great. We could be under attack by that dragon’s parents at any moment–” Snotlout threw an arm out in the Thunderdrum’s direction “–and we’re just sitting ducks.”

“And if they see the Thunderdrum our prisoner, they’ll attack us.” Astrid tilted her head, bangs shifting to cover her right eye. “And once word about us keeping a young dragon prisoner spreads, it might risk our friendship with them.”

Hiccup felt as if his stomach had turned to stone at the thought of this. “Which is why we should work on making sure we release that dragon as soon as possible, without him sinking us.”

“How do we do that?” Fishlegs raised his hand not even high enough to clear his shoulder, as if unsure he wanted it to be seen. “If he’d told us why he was attacking, sure we could work something out, but he hasn’t.”

Hiccup shrugged, trying to make the gesture look more loose and relaxed than he felt. “Then we’ll just have to figure it out ourselves.” He sighed and gestured toward the bow of the ship. “But first, I have to go tell Dad.”

No one looked particularly happy, but no one protested as he and Toothless went to tell Stoick what little they learned.

Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose as Hiccup finished telling Stoick the facts, looking for all the world like a barrel of ice blocks couldn’t solve this headache.

“This is a fine mess that Thunderdrum has landed us in.” He massaged his temple, but it didn’t seem to calm him down any. “It’s bad enough we’ve got this becalming on our hands, but now we have to worry about hiding a dragon who doesn’t want to be there from the other tribes.” Stoick waved an arm at the sky, as if inviting the gods to come down and give their opinion on the matter.

“Is it possible we can move the Thunderdrum down to the storage area?” Hiccup asked. Not that he wanted the Thunderdrum down there, alone in the dark, but at the very least passing dragons wouldn’t be able to see him and get the wrong idea.

Stoick sighed and shook his head. “If you could get him to cooperate, maybe. But that hatch is too small to get a struggling Thunderdrum into.” He waved a hand in its general direction to make his point.

Hiccup considered. If he could scratch the Thunderdrum underneath his chin, maybe. But while the net held his jaws too tightly for him to use his roar attack, that didn’t mean the jaws couldn’t open up enough to bite a hand off. Anyways, it turned out that some dragons were immune to that trick. Fishlegs had learned that Gronckles were among these the hard way, making Hiccup very glad he’d brought dragon nip in his sleeve for the last competition before the Final Test and not relied on the chin scratch.

“But what do we do?” They couldn’t just let the Thunderdrum go without risking them destroying the ship, but neither could they just keep the dragon prisoner forever.

Stoick rubbed his forehead again, moving his helmet with the edges of his fingers. “I don’t know, son.” The lack of fight in Stoick’s tone scared Hiccup. He was so used to his father knowing everything that it didn’t really occur to him he’d ever witness a moment where he wasn’t confident of what to do and how to do it. “But rest assured, that dragon won’t come to harm.”

Hiccup nodded. He’d known that Stoick would never raise a weapon against a dragon that was harmless, either by choice or by circumstance, and so long as that Thunderdrum was trapped in the net and not able to fight, he’d stay his hand, and do his best to stay those of his tribe.

But if the other tribes found out before Hiccup could convince them that dragons weren’t the enemy, could he do anything?

“So I sent the message to Gobber.” Stoick’s voice sounded casual, with an undercurrent of I've made my mind up that convinced Hiccup that whatever he was about to say was as inevitable as Ragnarok. “I told him that Toothless was with us, and that after he had a full night’s rest and a couple meals, we’d be sending him back to Berk.”

“Yes, Dad.” He wouldn’t argue this point. While he might not have agreed with Stoick’s idea to hide the fact the dragons were friendly, he did agree that Berk was the safest place for Toothless.

The question was if Toothless would listen.

Sure enough, he glanced at the dragon standing next to him in time to see him huff and narrow his eyes.

“You heard me, dragon.” Stoick’s tone wasn’t as teasing as usual. “I am grateful that you came to warn us, and that you helped us with him.” Stoick nodded across the deck at the Thunderdrum. “However, I doubt the other tribes will listen to any words of mine if they saw the offspring of lightning and death himself at the table.”

Hiccup didn’t understand what Toothless said after, but it definitely wasn’t a “Yes, sir.”

Stoick sighed and looked between him and Hiccup. “You two will be the death of me.”

Hiccup left Stoick to his thoughts and moved toward the center of the ship to enter his. The deck creaked behind him; Toothless must’ve followed him.

Okay, so find out why the Thunderdrum is attacking, and you find a way to fix it and get him to leave without attacking us, Hiccup thought, staring out over the ocean. So, whatever’s wrong likely has to do with his lie. But if he’s not really alone, where is his family and why haven’t they rescued him?

Hiccup voiced this aloud to Toothless, who tilted his head and shifted his gaze slightly down. The plates beneath his head began to vibrate as he hummed, seemingly in thought.

“The dragons can’t help.” It sounded like Toothless was frustrated at not being able to say more. “The dragons aren’t at the ship.”

Hiccup considered this. He agreed with Toothless that they likely weren’t nearby. “But if they’re not here, then where are they? And why did the Thunderdrum attack us when he didn’t have help?”

Toothless twitched an ear. “The dragon helps the other dragons.”

It took a moment for Hiccup to piece together what Toothless had meant, but when he did he felt his brain kicking itself for not thinking of this possibility sooner. “You know, Toothless, you’re absolutely right.”

Toothless nodded, enthusiastic once more. “Yes.”

Now all that he needed was a plan and an opening to carry it off.

And then he heard Spitelout’s voice above the rest of the crowd. “Alright, then. Who’s up for tonight’s night watch?”

The crowd muttered amongst themselves.

Spitelout scoffed. “Well, don’t all jump up at once.”

“I’ll take first shift.” Mulch raised his hand into the air.

Spitelout nodded, his eyes still scanning the crowd. “Right. Who’s up for second?”

“I will.” That was definitely Astrid’s voice.

Well, Hiccup realized, he had his opening. As long as he could come up with a plan and have it ready to go by then, he could put it into action and have everything fixed by that night. Then his dad would have less to worry about, and Hiccup could continue preparing himself to introduce other tribes to the concept of peace with dragons.

In comparison, this was going to be easy.

So I’m not entirely sure about how well this chapter turned out. What do you think?

#useless reptile writes #a shifting world #finding another way series #hiccup #toothless #stoick #stoick the vast #thornado #fishlegs #astrid #snotlout #caps cw #death mention cw #murder mention cw

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karenninaaa · 6 years ago

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Prompt request: Overly protective Tony by @rebelliousrom Sorry for the delay! It wasn’t supposed to be this long but I got carried away as usual. Hope you like it!

—

Tony didn’t need enhanced hearing senses to notice Peter’s quiet hiss when the teen shifted his left arm on the table. They were currently on Tony’s lab doing weekly modifications and maintenance on Spider-Man suit. Or Tony would never admit it to anyone but he was most likely using that as an excuse to hang out with the kid. Peter was sitting on the working table and Tony was standing adjacent to him. Tony narrowed his eyes on him. The hiss was so subtle, almost faint and close to non-existent. Someone could have overlooked it if one was not paying more attention, but not with Tony. The billionaire mechanic was fully aware with the more than necessary kind of attention he’s giving to the kid, not that he minded most of the time because of his fondness to the kid. And that was another thing he wouldn’t admit out loud.

“What’s with that face?” Tony said suspiciously. “A sec ago, your face looked like you’re doing bench press without your enhanced abilities, and you’re holding a lift with spikes on it. Something’s bothering you?”

And Peter would answer the usual. “Nothing, Mr. Stark, nothing’s bothering me.”

“Let me rephrase my question, are you in pain or something?”

“Mr. Stark, seriously, I’m fine.”

“You know, here’s the thing kid, I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re nothing actually mean something. Raise your left arm.” Tony ordered.

Peter was not moving for a second that Tony was about to speak again. Reluctantly and slowly, Peter raised his left arm and he couldn’t help but to wince.

“There.”Tony pointed out. “That’s what I’m talking about. Do you mind telling me what’s behind that long sleeve?”

“It’s really nothing, just a small-”

“Alright, we’re doing this the other way, Friday give me the diagnosis. Tell me what stubborn Spidey was trying to hide.”

“Scan complete. Sprained left arm was detected. A formation of a sizable bruise was on his left upper arm. There were also minor scratches on both arms. No fatal injuries acquired.” Friday’s voice echoed.

“Great.” Peter grumbled.

Tony crossed his arms. A reproachful look was etched on his face. “Now, are you going to help the old man out by giving me a direct answer on how did you get those or I have to ask Karen too?”

Peter sighed in resignation. “Karen won’t be able to tell you about it because I acquired these without wearing the suit.”

Tony closed his eyes briefly and looked back at Peter. “Please tell me, that you’re not doing secret missions using that onesies again.”

“It’s not onesies and I wasn’t doing any secret missions, jeez.” Peter defended. “After the patrol, I was in an alley where I changed into my normal clothes, and there was a kitten wedged in a small gap, between the walls of a second floor building. I don’t know how it got there. But it was about to fall off and I saved it just in time before it went splat.”

“Uh-huh, but it didn’t still add up. The scratches, I would have understand, that it came from kitty, but where did the bruise came from?”

“Uh, probably, instead of kitty I was the one who fell from the railings of the fire escape because I did a mistake on stepping on empty space? But don’t worry, it’s gonna heal-”

“Just stop talking right there” Tony raised his hand. “Jesus, Peter. Just because you have your ten times healing factor than your average normal people doesn’t mean that you’re going to ignore your injuries and let all your enhanced capabilities do all the work.” Tony turned around and walked towards the nearby cupboard. “Take off your sleeves.”

“Why?” Peter asked but obeying Tony anyway as he undid the buttons of his plaid shirt. He winced as he shrugged off his shirt.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe treating your injuries like a normal person would do.” Tony called out as he rummaged on the cupboard.

“Tell me does kitty have razor sharp claws?” Tony dabbed gently with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic the claw scratches on Peter’s right arm. He was sitting beside Peter. On the table, there was an open brief case with all known first aid remedies stocked inside. The wounds weren’t that deep, three to five thin scratches on both arms varying from pinkish to almost red hues. “Should we give you tetanus or rabies shots?”

Meanwhile, with the sleeve of his t-shirt pushed up all the way to his shoulder, Peter was patting his bruise with an ice pack that Tony gave him. He rolled his eyes. “You’re over-reacting Mr. Stark –ow, please dab gently it stings!”

“Maybe the sting would knock some sense to you to never leave injuries untreated. Have you heard infection? Because most likely that’s what going to happen to your wounds if you leave these unattended.” Tony reprimanded, though he was blowing the scratch after dabbing it with a cotton ball to lessen the sting.

“Jeez, I get it, dad.” Peter said playfully and rolled his eyes. It was a running joke between them every time Tony would act like, well, a dad. It might be a joke but Peter was secretly enjoying it, and sometimes he would wonder if it would still pass as a joke, when there’s something genuine about it. Meanwhile, Tony would just shrug off the said joke but deep inside, it totally warmed his shrapnel-free-but-still-battered heart.

Peter added. “Besides I don’t think infection will affect me with how my immune system was-”

“Yes, I know, enhanced and stronger than your average blah blah,” Tony countered. It was his turn to roll his eyes. “But you’ll never know, Parker, you’ll never know. How was your sprain? Does it hurt a lot? We can just put cast on it or we can call a doctor-”

“A cast would be fine. It’ll heal in a matter of time, anyway.” Peter answered.

“Right, how about take a day off on patrolling tomorrow? What if your enhanced healing got a glitch and it doesn’t work on your injured arm and it’s still not okay tomorrow?”

“Really, Mr. Stark?” Peter almost deadpanned.

“I was just saying…”

“I’m going to be fine, Mr. Stark.”

“You always say that.”

“Because, I’m surely will, stop being an overprotective and worry wart.”

“What did you just call me?!”

#peter parker #tony stark #iron dad and his spider son #karennina writes #i literally had to stop myself from typing or else this is going to be 30k words long.#keep sending your prompts #i might not reply right away but i'm surely going to look into it #karennina prompts

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my-hero-aaron · 6 years ago

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Provisional Licenses, Part 2

After a bit of fumbling and fiddling to get the weird archive I had found to actually play on K’s tv, I finally got to snuggle in next to K. She’d set up a little pile of blankets, pillows, and assorted fluffy whatnots on the floor while I struggled with the wonders of modern technology. Thankfully, everything seemed to be running smoothly as I nuzzled into K’s back, my chin gently perching on her shoulder, an arm comfortably slipping around her waist. A small whistle started to emanate from the speakers of the television, while a father and son wandered toward the camera, fishing poles in hand. The theme, thankfully, was short and sweet, and the show pretty much immediately launched into its plot. The dad from the opening, who turned out to be the sheriff in town, welcomed a travelling salesman into his home after he’d gotten stranded in town because of car trouble. Sure, it wasn’t exactly thrilling action or anything, but the show was just endearing enough to hold my attention. At the end of the episode, I finally zoned back into the world around me, only to find that not only was one of my hands noticeably stuck in K’s hair from my absent minded fiddling, but also that K had laced her legs into mine, surprisingly comfortably.

“Well... I’d get up and change the show, but I’m comfy. You down for one more episode, see how things shape up?” I queried my girlfriend, kissing her cheek gently.

“I think I can handle one more. This show… isn’t really my speed. It doesn’t really hold my attention very well.” She smiled apologetically

“That’s fair, I’m not... entirely sure why I like it, but there’s just something going on that won’t let me stop watching.” As I was responding, the next episode rolled, the theme once again filling the room. This time around, the sheriff’s kid was having trouble with history class, but after some clever set up to make it sound like an adventure story, the kid (and all his pals, to boot) were major history buffs. Cheesy, but definitely enjoyable.

“Okay, that’s one more. Your turn to pick, hon.”

As K untangled herself from me to get up, she pressed a small kiss into my cheek. I could feel the heat brush across my face, and I must have zoned out a bit, because the next thing I knew, she’d booted up an episode of Star Trek... or was it The Next Generation? I could never keep them straight. Regardless, I smiled slightly, patting the space K had vacated.

“C’mere, einstein, I’m getting cold.”

“Oh, you, cold? Who would have thought it, popsicle?” Kailey quipped as she slipped into my embrace.

I had to admit, K had good taste when it came to movies and tv. The episode immediately caught my attention, it was a bit of a high concept piece this time around. The ship’s android, Data, was tied up in a legal battle over whether he should receive rights as a sentient being. It was a real brain tickler of a question to be posed, to put it lightly, and even despite just how comfy I was getting with my girlfriend, I could practically feel the gears whirring in my brain as I considered the little bits and pieces of the conundrum posed by the show.

The next thing I knew, K was shaking me awake, and the credits were rolling on a favorite movie of hers, Coraline.

“Hey, Aaron, wake up sleepy head. You were kinda snoozing there. Maybe you should head back to your dorm now?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, K. Last thing we need is Vlad finding me asleep in your dorm, after all.” I let out a small yawn, stretching while I got up, and gave my girlfriend a little peck on the cheek. “See ya tomorrow, K. I love you!”

With that, I padded out of the room, trying my best not to make a huge racket while I left, and conked out for the night.

Soon enough, the little bit of time we had to actually design our special moves had run out, and the day of the provisional hero license exam had come up on us. After we’d filed out of the bus they’d crammed us into, it was clear that we were going to have an absolutely absurd amount of competition when it came to whatever they were planning to have us do. A little bit of shuffling and bumping into people later, Kailey, Oliver, and I had found ourselves, along with what seemed like several thousand other students. Thankfully, we were getting at least some personal space, since nobody wanted to get too far into the bubble of cold my chest plate was putting out. After a few moments, the din of chatter that was filling the room tapered off, an incredibly exhausted-looking man taking his place at the podium.

“Given the massive volume of applicants this year, we’re going to have to make this explanation quick. The long and short of the test is, you have three targets to place on your body. They have to be visible, no hiding them. You’re removed from the test when all 3 of your targets get hit. First 100 people to get two people out, move on to the next stage of the testing. Now, your targets activate in 15 seconds. Let’s begin!”

As he finished his sentence, the walls around us fell to expose an absolutely cavernous arena. Hurriedly, I slammed a target onto my leg, contorted a bit to stick one in the middle of my back, and, after a moment’s thought, stuck the last target onto the inside of my bracer. It isn’t technically out of sight, I would just have to rotate my arm. I know that having one on my back probably isn’t the best, but it’ll work well to make me notice everything around me. I mused, glancing over at K to see just how she’d set up her three targets. At that point, I noticed the major redesign to K’s costume. Somehow, I had managed to not catch her basically rebuilding her suit from the ground up, and not piece it together that it had changed until just now. The most obvious change was accented by the test target, there was a target set up directly under a clasp that was clearly holding the iridescent cape that draped over her shoulders. Similarly, K had slapped her second target on her thigh, and the last target was somewhat obvious on her upper arm. My eyes cast over to Oliver, who had made a few small modifications to his costume (including what looked like a solar concentrator on his chest), and he’d stuck all three of his targets around the circular device on his chest. Having sorted out just what my companions were up to, I dashed off toward the miniature cityscape that was set up off to our left.

“Kailey, Oliver, we need to stick together! Let’s get moving!”

I heard two pairs of footfalls drop in behind me as we dashed for cover. Judging by the cacophony of thuds behind us, the crowd behind us was an absolute web of scattered balls. Clearly, some people had immediately forgotten that the targets weren’t active just yet. As we dashed into the city’s main street, it was obvious that we weren’t the only ones with the idea to camp out here. In fact, there was a familiar shock of flaming red hair peeking out of a first floor window, and by the time I got over my surprise at seeing Amber here of all places, the smoking ball she’d pitched at me slammed into the target on my leg.

“K, how much is it for you to get us into one of those buildings?”

“Portals take a lot, Aaron, we’re gonna have to run.”

Eyeing the red glow coming from my target, I turned toward the building that I’d seen my former... fling? I suppose you’d call it that in, a minor revenge plot in my mind. You could only imagine my shock as I saw yet another person from K and I’s past in the building beside her.

Zanshin looked almost... giddy at my surprise. Obviously he knew I was coming, his quirk wasn’t called situational awareness for nothing. He moved to throw a ball, and it sailed right over our heads. Thankfully, I’d put together just what he was trying to do moments before he pulled it off, and the ball struck, relatively harmlessly, next to the target on my back. Almost on reflex, I flung two balls at the targets on Zanshin’s chest. Obviously, they didn’t find their mark, he saw them coming from a mile away. It was at that point I noticed a slight blush spreading over Zanshin’s face.

“Wait, you’re dating Amber of all people?”I said, the shock clear in my voice.

“No WAY, snow-for-brains, he’s just helping me out because he’s smart enough to know a winner!” Amber snipped in response, clearly insulted at the mere idea of them being that close.

“H-hi, Kailey.” A rare stammer slipped into Zanshin’s speech as he waved somewhat sheepishly at K.

“Hey Mei. How’ve you been holding up.” she smiled gently as she replied.

Doing my best to quash my entirely unreasonable jealousy at that, I looked more closely at Amber.

“I like the costume! Needs more fire theme, though.”

“Ugh, as if I’d be as tacky as you with your gross ice shirt, frosthead.”

“Yeah well at least his costume is functional and isn’t tacky and revealing” K snapped back without missing a beat.

“I dig the trench coat, Zanshin. Very you!” I quickly blurted out, trying to at least dial down the tension.

“Thanks! Those bracers are a good choice, and I’m surprised the support department let you get away with that much silver! Can’t have been cheap to produce.” Zanshin said, matter of factly gesturing toward my arms.

Amidst all the back and forth, someone threw a ball, and K took a hit to the target on her thigh.

Even though it wasn’t clear at first, a glance over at her expression said volumes about just who managed to tag her. A roughly contained fury was crossing the face of my best pal, and despite the odd shimmering of the air in front of her, it was drop dead obvious that Kailey was incredibly upset about this turn of events. The next thing I knew, there was a sound like a crowd running by, a bright flash of light, then the raucous sound of Amber tumbling to the floor in a daze, all three of her targets flicked on.

Knowing what K’s abilities did to Zanshin, I took the advantage she gave me, and flicked a ball at the group of three targets on his chest. The hyper perceptive young man looked almost nauseated at the lack of information he was getting, and the interruption of his flow was just enough to let me tag one of his targets.

“You’re still so pathetic Hoshihime! The only reason you got me was because you couldn’t face me head on! YOU COWARD!” Amber screeched.

Kailey clearly had some words for her foe, but I knew our window was small, and getting smaller.

“K, we gotta get out of here, Zanshin’s not gonna be out of it much longer!” Before she could respond to Amber, I grabbed my girlfriend’s hand, rushing out of the building we had just taken cover in. Oddly enough, as we dashed out, I didn’t hear Oliver’s footsteps behind us, but once we got out into the road, it was pretty clear what he’d done.

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bevioletskies · 7 years ago

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everybody wants to rule the world [5/8]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

summary: peter is the one and only heir to the celestial throne. gamora is expected to successfully lead the titans to conquer the galaxy. a political alliance is in the works, and there may or may not be wedding bells in the air.

alternately: peter and gamora find themselves in an arranged marriage and want nothing to do with it, but might need each other more than they think if they want to escape their genocidal fathers forever.

word count: 11.2k

a/n: warning for creepy/abusive behavior from both thanos and ego towards their respective children throughout the entire fic. also note that this AU is very heavily based on the MCU versions of themselves, where things are basically only different because yondu took peter to ego after all.

fic title is from the song everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears.

help me to decide...help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure...

ao3 | tag

To Gamora’s surprise (and relief), Ego had, for once, not been exaggerating when he proclaimed she had become something of a hero. Word spread quickly across the galaxy of the new Celestial princess and how she had saved everyone’s lives - especially that of her new husband’s. Leaders and common folk alike were practically singing her praises for how she handled the Kree invasion, not that she remembered much. The rest of the wedding night was a blur - even with her accelerated healing, blood loss was still blood loss - and she spent the next few days on bedrest, letting her body modifications do most of the work.

Unfortunately, the gash in her leg wasn’t the only injury she’d sustained, also having a sprained ankle, a couple cracked ribs, and bruises that made every muscle twitch and every cough burn like wildfire, but it was hardly the worst she’d ever experienced. In fact, she would almost consider them a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things, if not for the other consequences of her injuries, such as -

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own meals, Quill, it’s only a limp,” Gamora groaned as her bedroom doors swung open to reveal, for the fourth time that week, Peter, whistling cheerfully as he brought in a serving tray laden with food. The guard standing by looked like he was trying not to laugh at her plight.

“Morning to you, too,” Peter chirped, sitting by her feet. Rolling her eyes, she still turned over so he could place the tray on her lap. “Look, you said you wanted to stick to your super healthy diet, but that doesn’t mean I have to, so they have to prepare this separately. Really, this is just me bringing the chef’s personalized meals so they don’t have to come to you, and you don’t have to go to them. I’m doing you both a favor.”

“And gracing me with your presence at the same time,” she drawled.

He grinned. “Exactly! Wait, are you being sarcastic again? Because I can’t tell sometimes.”

She swatted at him with her book before picking up her fork. “What’s on the agenda today? Were you at breakfast with the others?” Peter looked at her, suspiciously doe-eyed, before she got the message. She let out an annoyed huff, pushing the tray towards him. “For someone who claims to not want to eat the same food as me, you’re very insistent on stealing it.”

“Food tastes better when it belongs to someone else,” he said defensively through a mouthful of grits. He began coughing. “Oh, never mind, what is this, soy? Ew.” Wrinkling her nose, Gamora leaned forward to slowly push his jaw closed. The sight of Peter chewing did wonders for killing her appetite. “Nah, nothing’s going on today. Dad’s doing his usual thing, which is who knows what, and Mantis is at that school-opening ceremony in the capital. You got any ideas?”

“I’m still confined to this bed for another couple days,” she said forlornly. “I’d get up and walk out right now if it wasn’t for your doctors. I swear I’m fine, but they’re acting like I’ll keel over the second I’m on my feet.”

“You wanna hang out with me, then? I could keep you company.” Peter tilted his head sideways in what she supposed was meant to look endearing. Personally, she thought he looked like he had a neck injury. “I could bring you more books. Or we could talk strategy, not that there’s really anything left to plan, I mean, you were super thorough in those meetings we had. Or maybe a holoscreen! We can watch a movie, I found a bunch of Terran videotapes at one of the Nova trading posts…” He trailed off when he noticed she wasn’t responding, looking at her expectantly.

Oddly enough, the incident at the wedding had brought them closer, despite the confusing conversation - or more accurately, confrontation - they had moments beforehand. After she had woken from her medical treatment, Peter remained by her bedside, both to apologize profusely for his childish behavior and to proclaim her status as the “kingdom’s resident badass”. Gamora, of course, had accepted, knowing he only meant well, and apologized in return for being evasive - he had a point; she couldn’t expect him to trust her if she wasn’t going to be straightforward herself. Ever since then, things were surprisingly smooth. No confrontations, no accusations, no secrets. She had even told him about Thanos’s order for her to seduce him.

“Seriously? What is this, a movie?” Peter had chuckled. “And, what, it ends with you having fallen in love with me for real, but me thinking you’re lying when you say so because you were lying the whole time, and I don’t know if I love you or just the fake you, and it’s all a bi-i-ig misunderstanding - yeah, I’ve seen this before.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, but I also find the idea of me being in love with you laughable,” Gamora had retorted.

“I’ll have you know that I’m super lovable. Just ask anyone. Literally, you could fly into any city on this planet, ask some random stranger - ” If Gamora hadn’t been so comfortable under her bedsheets at the time, she would’ve been tempted to sit up just so she could smack him on the shoulder.

Now, she stared back, wondering how she could possibly pass the time. Peter was right - everything they needed for the inevitable “pseudo-revolution”, as he liked to call it, was ready to go at moment’s notice. She also couldn’t exactly get up and walk out, what with the guards following the doctor’s orders to keep her confined. “If you spend all day in my room,” she said slowly, “do you think your father will interpret it as your newfound devotion to me, and mention it to my father? Keep him placated?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like we’re a bunch of schoolkids passin’ notes,” Peter laughed. “So is that a yes?”

“Oh, sure,” she relented, cracking a gentle smile. “I’ll go stir-crazy in here otherwise. But if you make so much as one bad joke, I’m sending for Nebula to keep me company instead.”

“No bad jokes here.” He exaggeratedly puffed out his chest, chin held high. “I’m hilarious.”

“You’ve already done it. Get out,” she deadpanned, taking a long sip of her drink.

“Too late! I’ve claimed a pillow.” He threw himself down on top of the duvet, staring up at the underside of the canopy hanging over them. “Y’know, this bed’s never been used for sleeping.”

“What else would it - oh, Quill,” Gamora groaned, recoiling. “You’re disgusting. And your actual bedroom is just one door away, why didn’t you use that instead?”

“Privacy reasons,” Peter said defensively. “No one gets to be in there but me and my family. And oh man, if you think that’s gross - and it’s not, it’s totally normal - never use a blacklight on the Milano. Looks like a Jackson Pollock painting in there.” She blinked. “He’s like an artist...guy. I, uh - yeah.”

“Is it too late for me to move back into the guest quarters?” she sighed.

Despite herself, Gamora spent most of her recovery in Peter’s company, with occasional visits from her people (Peter was always mysteriously absent whenever Nebula was around). Though she was much more used to them, they were rather macabre in comparison to Peter’s cheerfulness. She didn’t exactly want to deal with Nebula’s attitude or Drax and Rocket’s squabbling when she was so lethargic from being stuck in bed. Peter was quite adept at entertaining her, telling her stories about his Terran childhood or creating random objects out of thin air for fun. It was a good distraction for an otherwise droll recovery.

Once the doctors finally let her go, she was back to her training regimen, pleasantly surprised to find Peter hadn’t slacked in her absence. Apparently, he had gone to Drax and requested his help (“Big mistake - I can’t count all the times he accidentally dislocated my shoulder”), and trained with him for at least an hour per day.

“Discipline,” Gamora echoed, smiling. “Good to see that we’re making progress in more ways than one.”

He managed to disarm her a few times on their first day back, practically knocking the wind out of her as he slammed her down into the mat. He was sharper, quicker, more precise than before - though admittedly, the one that had gotten her the most was where he was up to his usual tricks.

“Shit - I think you broke my nose - ”

“Hold still, let me see - ow - ” Gamora was flat on her back, Peter straddling her with a triumphant grin on his face, his nose completely untouched. She stared up at him, unimpressed. “Are you trying to crack my ribs again?”

“I’m sorry, I thought this was supposed to be serious, disciplined, combat pra - OW!” Now he was bleeding. A couple drops ended up on Gamora’s shirt, but as far as she was concerned? Worth it. “Okay, I deserved that one.”

As glad as she was to be back on her feet, they soon settled into something a bit too routine even for her liking. Gamora would wake early, have breakfast alone in her room, then train with Drax and Nebula before being joined by Peter. After their one-on-one session, she would shower and spend the rest of her day either reading, studying up on the kingdom’s history and policies (Yondu had been a great help in that regard), or in the company of her people. Dinner was always in the dining hall, where she and Peter mostly chatted with each other about nonsensical topics in order to satiate Ego’s little domestic fantasy. Evenings, once again, were either spent alone, or, increasingly more often, with Peter.

He had taken to sprawling himself across her bed after dinner, sleepily satisfied from the food and looking for a peaceful way to close out the night before eventually returning to his own room. Gamora wasn’t sure what to make of it at first - was this what friends did? - but after the first post-wedding month had passed, she came to expect him on a regular basis, even finding herself disappointed whenever he was absent.

One particular evening, Gamora walked into her bedroom to find Peter already there, looking more downtrodden than usual, clutching his Walkman over his chest. She could hear faint strains of a song playing through his headphones.

Everybody plays the fool sometime...there's no exception to the rule...listen, baby, it may be factual, may be cruel...I ain't lyin', everybody plays the fool...

“Something wrong?” she asked, disappearing into the wardrobe to change.

“I had a fight with Mantis,” Peter grumbled, pushing his headphones away from his ears.

Gamora paused before quickly changing into her sleepclothes and walking back out, staring at him in disbelief. “What? When? You seemed fine at dinner.”

“Yeah, only for Dad’s sake,” he sighed, settling into the pillows. “She’s just been actin’ real weird lately, so this morning after breakfast, I asked her what was up. I dunno, I thought she was stressing out over the plans or something. Changing her mind.”

“And she didn’t tell you anything, did she,” Gamora guessed, joining him on the bed.

“Not a word,” he replied. “I pushed a little harder, and maybe I shouldn’t have, but...I worry about her sometimes. I try not to baby her, but it’s hard when Dad still does it, y’know? And she doesn’t really have friends, other than the local kids. Sometimes I do weekend trips off-planet to have some fun, and whenever I invite her, she always says Dad’s got stuff for her to do. Don’t make any sense, considering he never has stuff for us to do. Ever.”

Gamora pursed her lips in consideration. “Have you ever looked into it? Maybe it’s related to that thing she wouldn’t tell us about at the wedding.”

He shook his head. “She’s always gone and done her own thing, and I usually leave it alone, but it’s like...it’s like ever since we started this whole plan, she’s got more to hide from me. We grew up together...spent so much time together. But now it’s like she isn’t around anymore. And I don’t know what I did wrong.” He lifted his head to meet her gaze, half-expecting her to make a crack about how he was always wrong. Instead, there was a sense of sadness reflected in her dark eyes.

Falling in love is such an easy thing to do...and there's no guarantee that the one you love...is gonna love you….

“Well, if I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that keeping secrets only makes it worse in the end,” Gamora said softly. “She’ll come around to you, Quill. You’re much too close to let this get in the way of your relationship.”

Peter smiled. “Thanks. And I hope you’re right.” Clearing his throat, he straightened up. “Hey, so, I was gonna ask you for a favor - ”

“That doesn’t sound good,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

“It is, I promise. I was thinking, we’ve been sitting on our asses for almost two months now, waiting for Thanos to show. Meanwhile, he keeps insisting - ”

“ - not until your father starts showing signs of desperation, I know, I was there for all of those awful weekly calls,” Gamora shuddered. “What’s your point?”

“Maybe we gotta get it going ourselves, and get you some good publicity at the same time,” he suggested. “You’re stressed out about what might happen after we - y’know - if you’re just gonna get shoved into jail forever and never be free again. I say, we go pay Xandar a visit, show off a little and do an event or something. Maybe hang around the Nova Corps so Nova Prime keeps you in her good books. It’ll boost your reputation and make Dad all stressed out.”

“That’s...actually a pretty decent idea. And much better than sulking around here forever,” Gamora agreed, nodding slowly.

“See? I’m totally a genius.” Peter pumped his fist in the air triumphantly.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she shot back. “But let’s do it. Are we bringing the others?”

“Might get me and Mantis back on the same page. So, yeah. Let Dad stew all alone for a few days. It’ll be fun!” ______

Once the Milano had settled in, cruising along smoothly through space like they had all the time in the world, Peter shooed Rocket and Yondu away, telling them he would join them and the others in a few minutes for breakfast. It was an early Sunday morning, and they were en route to Xandar to meet with Nova Prime. Their public personas would have to be on display for the entire trip, but Peter was confident by now that the others would be able to handle the pressure.

He leaned back in his seat, staring out into the cosmos in an almost dream-like state as he thought about what had transpired over the last little while, ever since the wedding. Some good, some bad - Mantis becoming increasingly distant, definitely bad. He liked the camaraderie of his new friendships (okay, friendship, singular, with Gamora), but he also missed the old days of just him and his sister. They were such opposites in so many ways, but it was what made their bond so strong. Now, she barely talked to him for more than five minutes before excusing herself to go do something else. And Ego, he was a tough one to crack as well, not that that was anything new. Peter considered confronting him about Korath, but what he could he possibly say? Gamora was almost certain Korath had been hired by Ego to go after Peter as a publicity stunt, but Peter wasn’t so sure himself - in what world did Ego think he could trust the Kree to not actually hurt him, especially one that worked for Thanos? He was lucky Gamora had been there to save him, to fight back in ways that no one else would.

Gamora. Peter smiled to himself, almost giddy. He couldn’t help it. Thinking about her made him happy. She’d been coming out of her shell very slowly, allowing herself to laugh more often, to sleep in longer and take bigger portions of food, to tease him and talk with him for hours at a time. She wasn’t quite the harsh, militant, no-nonsense girl he had met two months ago. Sure, she was every bit as confident and disciplined as ever, but the tension in her shoulders had all but vanished, the formality of her vocabulary loosened. She was still confused by his Terran references and became easily irritated by his antics, but there was a gentleness to her that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it had been all along, and she was only letting it show now.

“Quill, are you daydreaming up here?” He nearly fell out of his seat at the sound of her voice. “Breakfast was ready ten minutes ago, your food’s going to go cold if you don’t come down.”

“I know, I was just...looking.” He gestured towards the glass. “It’s real nice, getting to see space like this. And not to be a big Terran cliche, but I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid. And now, here I am. Peter Quill, next-level astronaut.”

“I’ve only seen glimpses of it, if I ever cared to look out the window.” Gamora took measured steps forward, her hands coming to rest on the back of his chair. “I didn’t exactly take the time to stop and observe. I had a job to do.”

“Do you want to someday?” he asked. “Get out there and explore?”

“It’s a nice thought, I suppose,” she agreed. “Where I lived, on Sanctuary, it wasn’t exactly a haven. And everywhere else I’ve been for more than a day was either a safehouse or a jail cell.”

“What if...what if that’s what we did, after all this?” Peter lifted his head to look at her. Her gaze was firmly cast outwards, among the stars. “Go on an epic adventure.”

She looked back at him. “Where?”

“Everywhere. Wherever you want.” He gestured wildly, arms spread wide. “I’ve only ever gone to planets that I can reach within a couple days, but imagine where we could go if we had our whole lives ahead of us!”

Gamora smiled sadly. “It’s a nice thought,” she repeated, turning and walking away. “Breakfast, Quill. Come on.”

They touched down in Xandar by the late afternoon. It was already getting dark, but still, Gamora found herself silently admiring her surroundings as she made her way down the landing ramp. Xandar was the complete opposite of Ego’s planet; modern, slick - stylish, even. There was something strange about being in a new place without having to immediately hide or establish a cover, and it left her feeling somewhat exposed. The rest of her people looked just as uncomfortable as she felt, especially as Nova Prime approached the landing pad in her usual brisk stride, flanked by two Nova officers.

“Good to see you again, your highnesses,” she said, shaking their hands firmly. “I hope you had a comfortable flight. You have a very...unique-looking ship there, Prince Peter.”

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Peter beamed, turning to admire the Milano briefly before looking back to Nova Prime. “I’d love to hear what you have in store for us, ma’am.”

“Why don’t we get you all settled in first?” she suggested. “Denarian Dey and Denarian Saal will escort you to your rooms. We’ll have dinner in my suite at eight and discuss everything then.”

The Nova officers led them into an elevator and then through a series of winding hallways, providing them with specialized access passes that would allow them into the common area of Nova Prime’s private floor, but keep them away from the work floors. Denarian Saal eyed Rocket pointedly as he mentioned the weapon laboratories (clearly, there was a story there that Peter was itching to know more about). Gamora was dismayed to find out that she and Peter would be sharing a room.

“At least it’s two beds,” Peter pointed out as he lugged his bag onto one of them. “There, we’ve avoided another cliche.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Quill,” Gamora sighed. She debated whether to unpack at all, considering they were only here for a few days. If something went wrong, if she needed to make a quick getaway, having to throw everything back into her bag would only slow her down. She then dropped her bag unceremoniously on the floor, by the nightstand. “Did you see the way Denarian Saal was eyeing me and my people? And he thinks we’re uncivilized.”

“What do you mean?” He flopped onto the bed with a satisfied exhale.

“You may be innocent at the moment, Quill, but we’re already criminals, remember? And now, here we are, with access to Nova Prime’s private rooms. He probably suspects we’re here to make an attempt on her life, or at least, commit some sort of petty crime. He’ll sweep our rooms when we’re not here to make sure we haven’t stolen anything. Scan hours of security footage to ensure we never went anywhere we weren’t supposed to be.” She shrugged. “It’s how everyone acts around us.”

“Well, hopefully, after this week, he’ll change his mind. Hopefully everyone changes their minds.” Peter sat up, his back against the headboard. “That’s the whole point of this trip! And you saved my life, that wasn’t nothing. People believe you’re one of the good guys. Now they just have to like you as a person, too.”

“Being likable is such an overrated quality,” she complained, sitting at the foot of her own bed. “It’s only ever people who are already liked who think it’s important, because they already have it. But if you’re unloved, unwanted...the desire to be liked can turn into desperation very quickly.”

He gave her a rueful smile. “You said once that my people look at me like I’m a hero, instead of some all-knowing master. You’d rather be the master?”

She shook her head, staring intently at the floor. “I’d rather not be anything to anyone at all if it means I’ll finally be left alone.”

Peter fell silent, mulling it over. “Y’know, if...if I was being too pushy earlier, about going on, like, adventures together after this, I didn’t mean to. You don’t have to stick around. It’s your life. It’d be fun, but...I understand if you just wanna leave. Even I annoy myself sometimes,” he added jokingly.

“Now you know why I don’t bother with friendships, or even alliances. It creates obligations,” Gamora chuckled softly. “I don’t like loose ends, unanswered questions. And relying on intuition...it’s just not me.” At his frustrated expression, she quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” he said, waving her off.

“Quill, you can’t lecture me about keeping secrets and then - ”

“It’s not a secret, I just - I don’t think you wanna hear it.” He relented once she glared him into submission. “Fine, fine. I just wish you’d gotten your childhood back somehow. Then maybe, you’d have dreams like the rest of us, instead of thinking about worst-case scenarios all the time. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good that you do that stuff, but...I dunno.”

“So I was forced to grow up fast. That’s not exactly unique. You had to do the same thing,” Gamora pointed out.

“Yeah, but I live in a big fancy palace with tons of people lookin’ after me. You had to deal with so much crap, Gamora, all on your own sometimes, and I don’t know how you did it and still came out...normal. Sane.” He shuffled a bit closer, his knees swinging around the side of his bed so he could properly face her.

“Sanity is subjective,” she reminded him. Peter laughed, the corners of his mouth turning upwards in something of a half-smile. She found she liked the sound of it - his real laugh, not that odd, forced sound that escaped him whenever he was with his father or in the company of people who knew nothing about him. She wanted to make him laugh more. “I dream of being able to choose my own future, I guess. Do more than just survive. Beyond that, I have no real big ambitions.”

Before Peter could reply, a harsh knock-knock-knock cut through, followed by “Hey, idiots! Do ya check your messages or what? Nova Prime’s callin’ us up to her place, like, right now!” Gamora glanced briefly at her communication device, startled to realize it was already 7:45.

“Give us a minute to change, Rocket,” she called back, yanking out clothes from her bag at random before slipping into the bathroom without a second glance. Still, Peter smiled to himself before reaching for his own. ______

Gamora was grateful to find that Nova Prime, for the most part, steered clear of addressing her alone, considering they were yet to have a conversation in which Gamora didn’t run off. Rocket was a little ruder than Gamora would have liked, and Drax’s blunt nature made the Nova guards twitch, but at least Nebula stuck to her promise to be seen and not heard for the entire meal.

“I was surprised when you reached out to me, Prince Peter,” Nova Prime admitted by the time dessert came around. “Especially so soon after the wedding. I figured your sister would have come alone, since she’s been handling all of your interplanetary affairs lately.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Peter said, glancing over at Mantis. She seemed very invested in her pudding all of a sudden. “What affairs?”

“The...outreach center,” Nova Prime replied slowly, furrowing her brow. “Have you not been...you haven’t, have you?”

“I was going to surprise Peter with the news today, Nova Prime, do not worry that you have overstepped,” Mantis said reassuringly, finally lifting her head so she could address Peter. “We have been talking for a while now about setting up an outreach center that will help reformed criminals prepare for rehabilitation on our planet. Most are still unaware of what we do, but Xandar has one of the biggest holding centers in the galaxy. If we partner with the Nova Corps to provide them with a second chance - food, shelter, healthcare, education - they will be prepared to join us on Ego and expand our population.”

“I wasn’t aware we were lookin’ to expand,” Peter frowned. “Does Dad know about this?”

“Of course he does!” Mantis exclaimed. “He provided the funding and set one of his advisors to task in assisting me. But this is mostly my project.” She was practically glowing with pride. Still, both Peter and Gamora couldn’t help but be a little wary. Where was this coming from?

“And why wasn’t I in on this?” Peter demanded, leaning across the table. Nova Prime glanced briefly between the siblings in worry.

“The opening ceremony is tomorrow morning, your highnesses,” she interrupted a little louder than necessary. “I was originally expecting Princess Mantis by herself, but now that you’re all here, well, we might as well proceed with everyone. You can give a few speeches, explain the rehabilitation program and its relation to your planet’s social work system. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you would like afterward, but if you’re interested in good publicity, I’d recommend spending your time here volunteering to help.”

“And by all of us, that includes my subjects as well,” Gamora said. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Peter, who looked significantly more irritated than he had been five minutes ago. Sometimes, it seemed like his temper was worse than hers. “My people are non-negotiable.”

“Yes, of course,” Nova Prime promised. Groot looked pleased at being included. The others were scowling at Gamora as if she committed a great offense. “You are all distinguished guests of mine, Princess. We’ll have extra security for everyone’s protection, given what happened at your last public event.”

The moment dinner ended, Mantis practically flew right out the door in a hurry. Peter ran after her before Gamora could intervene, grabbing Mantis by the arm and pulling her aside, next to the elevator. “Really? An outreach center. When you know that we’re...you know, what’s about to happen,” he said quickly, furiously, his voice dropping to a whisper. “What’s this all about?”

“I just wanted to be of use for once,” Mantis replied evenly, her eyes darting sideways as the others entered the hallway. “Prove that I am not just a sleeping pill for Father, or a playmate for the brave, powerful prince.”

Peter blanched like he’d been hit. “What’s that s’posed to mean? And where is this coming from, Mantis? Did Dad say something to you?”

They were interrupted by the quiet ding of the elevator, its doors sliding open to invite them back to their rooms. Everyone filed in, Mantis immediately retreating into the furthest corner. Gamora slid neatly between the Celestial siblings, glaring at Peter in warning. To her surprise, it seemed to have no effect. “This was not his idea, if that is what you are thinking. Why have you been so suspicious of me lately?”

“Because you’re actin’ suspicious!” Peter exclaimed. He took another step forward, but Yondu reached over to clap him on the shoulder firmly, yanking him back.

“Quill, c’mon. Don’t fight now,” Yondu warned. “You been drinkin’ too much tonight, ain’t you?”

“And you, you know somethin’ I don’t, don’t you?” Peter snapped, shoving Yondu away. Yondu’s shoulder banged into the elevator wall with an unceremonious echo, causing the entire carriage to rattle precariously. Mantis let out a quiet gasp of surprise.

Yondu straightened his coat lapels, his eyes harder than they had been before. “You’re gettin’ paranoid, boy. I suggest you keep your hands to yourself,” he said cooly, jabbing a finger into Peter’s chest. “And you show your sister some respect. Don’t make me ask again.”

Before Peter could retaliate, Gamora grabbed Peter’s arm, pulling him away. “Quill.” He turned to look at her, his eyes colder than she’d ever seen. “Let’s go to the roof. You need air.” The others exchanged dubious looks before silently stepping out onto the guest floor, leaving Peter and Gamora behind.

“What if Mantis is turning her back on us?” Peter demanded once the doors had closed. “She could’ve been feedin’ Dad information on everything we’ve been doing this whole damn time, settin’ up this ‘outreach center’ so he can have his own personal army of criminals.”

“Get some air, Quill,” Gamora repeated, sighing. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

Upon reaching the rooftop level, they found a quiet spot away from the hum of the generators, settling down onto the gravel and staring out into the pitch black of the Xandarian night sky. Despite the fury that was practically radiating off Peter, he leaned into Gamora somewhat, their knees and shoulders brushing. Though she could smell the alcohol on his breath, his eyes were focused, his speech clear. No, he wasn’t exactly drunk. It was something else. “Look, Quill, you and I, we’ve had our fair share of fights. And from what I can tell, you like people, but you have trouble trusting them sometimes. Don’t let your anger towards your father become anger towards everyone else. I know what that’s like, and it doesn’t get you anywhere.”

“So, what, you don’t think Mantis is being weird?” Peter’s voice was quieter than before, almost sobering. “Even you think I’m crazy.”

“No, actually, I think you’re onto something,” Gamora replied. “And I want to question her, badly, same as you. But it’s late. We’re tired, and stressed. You think yelling at her in front of everyone else will get the job done? It’ll be direct, sure, but it won’t be effective.”

“And you’re all about results,” he snarked, though he seemed to regret it the second it left his mouth. He hugged his knees into his chest, blinking slowly into the darkness. Gamora’s clothes and hair were so dark, he could barely see her, save for the slight silvery glint of the metal in her skin. He had never asked her about it, but he hoped he would be able to someday. “What do we do?”

“If it’ll ease your mind - and your temper - I’ll keep a closer eye on her,” she promised. “Maybe she’s been conning us the whole time. Or maybe she’s just withholding information out of ignorance, and not contempt. We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, maybe try to not be so hostile?”

“Gotta say, never thought I’d hear you of all people give me that advice,” he laughed. “And thanks. For helping me outta there tonight. I owe you, again.”

“A working relationship isn’t a business deal, Quill.” Gamora gave him a reassuring smile. “We owe each other nothing.”

“Friendship,” Peter corrected, grinning. “And right, no obligations, got it. Can we head back now? It’s so freaking cold up here.” ______

After an unceremoniously brief breakfast in their own rooms - Peter spent most of it pestering Gamora on how to speak to the media, to which she retorted that he didn’t exactly have that much experience, either - they all piled into one of the Nova-issued secured vehicles, with two more boxing them in for safety. The short drive to the outreach center was filled with mundane conversation, mostly prompted by Nova Prime, while Peter and Mantis seemed to be trying their best not to make eye contact. Everyone felt horribly uncomfortable by the time they stepped outside.

“And I thought I looked ready to kill,” Gamora murmured as she looped her arm with Peter’s. There was a steady crowd of photographers and media already forming by the entrance, especially eager to catch photos or get quotes from the newlyweds who hadn’t been seen or heard from since the wedding. “I also thought our talk last night would’ve taught you something. Seems like I was wrong.”

“Prince Peter! Princess Gamora!” One of the reporters squeezed their way through to the front, sticking his recording device right under Gamora’s nose. She blanched before straightening, trying her best not to look so disappointed. “How have you been, your highnesses? Are you well, princess? We heard you were on bedrest - are you already pregnant?”

“I was stabbed - ” “Hey, hey, no one’s pregnant - oh god, are people saying she’s pregnant? - ”

“But there are plans for children in the future, yes?” another reporter prompted.

“Guys, guys, c’mon, our visit today is about the outreach center. It’s not about me and Gamora,” Peter laughed somewhat uncomfortably. “We’re lookin’ at how we can improve our policies and resource allocation, rehabilitate people who deserve a second chance. We’re not thinkin’ about babies.”

“But if you don’t continue the family line, the Celestial legacy dies with you, your highness,” the second one said snidely.

Gamora scowled. “And that’s none of our concern right now, thank you,” she shot back cooly. “Now will you let us pass? We have a job to do.” Peter wasn’t sure whether to wince or laugh as Gamora practically dragged him to the doors and nearly knocked the reporters over in the process, where everyone else was standing, watching them bemusedly.

In many ways, the opening ceremony was reminiscent of all the things Gamora had hated most about their wedding - the pomp and circumstance, the empty words, the stiff, insincere smiles that left her cheeks aching for relief. But there was a genuine happiness that positively radiated off Mantis once she began addressing the crowd. She had clearly found her calling, her passion. Once more, there was an explosion of sound and movement as everyone clapped and cheered at the very end, Peter reaching around Gamora so he could squeeze Mantis’s shoulder in congratulations. She smiled tightly at him before turning back to the cameras.

Afterward, they did an open tour of the facility, guided mostly by Mantis and Nova Prime. Gamora found herself genuinely interested in what they had to say. She had seen her fair share of criminals who had been led astray through no fault of their own, herself included, and a place like this could very well work miracles for them.

“Hey, I could give you a tour of the city if you’d like.” Gamora turned, not realizing Peter was right behind her, his fingers ever-so-slightly brushing her waist in an attempt to stay nearby. The event was over, and everyone was filing out of the building neatly, chatting to themselves and bowing as they passed the royal family members. “Not like we’ve got anything else to do today.” Raising an eyebrow, Gamora gestured wordlessly to Mantis nearby, who looked unsure of what to do next. “Oh, right - hey, Mantis! You, me, Gamora, the city? You wanna come?”

“I suppose,” Mantis said quietly. “I will have to check with Yondu.” Peter looked at Gamora pleadingly as his sister began walking away. Gamora rolled her eyes in disbelief - really, this was the extent of his effort? - before jogging after the other girl.

“I could use another tour guide. Your brother isn’t very observant, after all,” Gamora added, looking over at Peter with a smirk. He seemed half-offended, half-agreeable. “Either that, or you’ll be returning to Nova headquarters, where you’ll likely spend the rest of your day in the company of my people. I’m sure they would love to have you.”

Mantis looked disturbed by the prospect. “A tour sounds like a great idea!” Mantis said quickly. “Where shall we start, Peter? What do you think Gamora would like?”

He hummed thoughtfully, reaching for Gamora’s hand when he realized the nearby photographers were still snapping away, watching them, waiting for them to do something interesting. “Why don’t we start with a bookstore?” ______

“You and Peter get along much better than I would have expected,” Mantis admitted several hours later. The three of them were sat in a quaint homestyle restaurant, watched closely by Yondu, who was sat by himself a few tables away. Peter had disappeared to the bathroom after they had finished eating, leaving the girls by themselves. “I do not need my powers to see that you enjoy each other’s company.”

“Is this what we’re going to talk about while he’s gone? How gauche.” Gamora sipped her water. “He worries about you, Mantis. I doubt that’s news to you, but he does. You’ve been acting strange lately, and the fact that I can tell when I hardly know you is a testament to your odd behavior. He may have been rash last night, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.”

“He no longer trusts me. He thinks I mean to turn against him because I have been spending time with Father,” Mantis whispered. “It...it hurts. Knowing that after everything we have done together, he would still think so little of me.”

“Quill thinks the world of you,” Gamora insisted. “That’s why this weighs so heavily on him. And it’s no secret that Quill and I only get along about half of the time. But we know we can trust each other. And you both think you’ve lost that. All we ask is that you tell the truth.”

Mantis couldn’t help but grin, something rather awkward, yet endearing. “You and Peter have become a ‘we’, haven’t you?” she said slyly. “Are you not a little curious about what he thinks when you are around?”

“He’s almost too easy to read, so no, I don’t. And don’t change the subject,” Gamora said sternly.

“I am not, I just know he will be coming back soon, and - do you really not want to know?” Mantis blinked innocently.

“We are not having this discussion, not now, not ever - ”

“Discussion? What’d I miss?” Peter seemingly popped up out of nowhere, leaning against the back of Gamora’s chair with an easy smile.

“Mantis wanted to tell me stories of your shared adolescence, but I think it’s time we address some of our interpersonal issues instead,” Gamora lied easily, gesturing for him to take a seat. Peter obeyed, though he looked very much like he was regretting having returned to the table. “Your relationship with each other really isn’t my business. But clearly, you have unresolved issues, and I have no interest in letting anyone’s emotions get in the way of our plans. So either deal with it like adults and drop the issue, or talk it out like adults and solve it. We are not leaving until this is behind us, and there are no other choices.”

“Of course you’re giving an ultimatum,” Peter muttered under his breath, ignoring the dirty look Gamora sent his way. “Right, um, Mantis. Do you feel like...like you wanna back out?”

“No, not at all!” Mantis exclaimed. “You see how Father treats me. I mean so little to him compared to you. I had...I had absolutely no one until Yondu brought you home. You remember what I was like.”

“You were scared, like, all the time. You didn’t know how to read or write, ‘cause Dad didn’t think it was important.” Peter shook his head, disgusted at the memory. “And you were confused the first time I tried to hug you.”

“I thought you were going to strangle me.” Mantis let out a tiny, awful laugh. “I thought I had started to trust someone who wanted to hurt me instead. That I was stupid for thinking I could.” She glanced at Gamora, whose eyes were suspiciously glossy. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest. “This was probably not what you wanted us to talk about, was it?”

“No, this is...it’s good.” Gamora swallowed, clearing her throat harshly. “I just wasn’t expecting it. Maybe you and I aren’t as different as I first thought.”

Mantis smiled weakly in return. “I know what everyone thinks of me,” she replied. “Quiet, sweet, naive Mantis. She feels feelings, she helps people sleep. She is not very clever, or brave, or interesting. She just...is.”

“Mantis - ” Peter protested.

“I’m guilty of thinking those exact things when I first arrived,” Gamora interrupted. “And I also worried about what your powers would mean for my privacy. I trust you now. At least, enough to get this done. But that trust won’t last if you continue to evade us.”

“I would not betray your privacy,” Mantis frowned. “And I would not go out of my way to hurt you. Either of you.”

“Then where do you go when you say Dad’s got a job for you?” Peter asked, beginning to grow impatient. “All those times where I ask you if you wanna hang out, and you’re busy. Sometimes you’re both gone for days, Mantis. Where do you go?”

Mantis remained silent for a moment, staring into the candle flickering in the middle of the table. The warm yellow light cast an eerie, almost sickly glow over her face, illuminating her enormous, dark eyes. “The only secret I can tell you,” she said quietly, “is that there is a secret that Father and I share. And it is something you must never know about, or it will kill you.”

“Wait, literally?” Peter leaned towards her in concern. “Mantis...what has he got you doing?”

“Please,” Mantis pleaded, trembling. “I can see that it is frustrating you. And I hate not being able to tell you what it is. But if you still trust me at all, you will not ask me about it again.” She smiled weakly. “You are such a good brother to me, Peter. And you have always been so protective. So let me protect you for once.”

Peter looked over at Gamora then, who was watching Mantis carefully, her brow furrowed in contemplation. She was still so new to the Celestial siblings’ dynamic, knew far more about Peter than she did about Mantis, and there was still so much left to learn about them both. And yet, for someone who had been raised in such a barbaric, animalistic environment, she did indeed seem far more “sane” than Peter would have ever guessed her to be. He still remembered when she first arrived - practically stomping into the throne room, decked out in full armor, her mere presence demanding to be seen and heard. Her reputation preceded her, making him almost certain his future wife was going to be, at best, cold, calculating, devoid of feeling. And maybe she had started that way, or at least, appeared that way. But now?

“I believe her, Quill,” Gamora murmured quietly, leaning back in her seat. “What she said sounds ominous, but it also sounds true. Your father seems like the kind of man who would coerce his own child into carrying out his immoral deeds. This isn’t Mantis’s choice. This is his doing.” She turned to the other girl. “If we follow through with the plan...will it free you from his secret? Will you tell us everything that he’s done, so we can undo it and make things right?”

“Undoing what we have done will be impossible,” Mantis murmured. “But yes. It will, and I will.”

Gamora nodded sharply, a smirk beginning to form. “Good. Not that we needed another reason to take him out, but I suppose we’ll all sleep better at night, knowing you’ll be okay.”

Mantis smiled brightly in return. “Thank you, Gamora. I am very glad you are on our side. We would be forever stuck in our old ways, if not for your bravery.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Gamora scoffed, though she looked pleased.

“I mean it,” Mantis said firmly, patting Gamora briefly on the arm. It was a testament to Gamora’s newfound comfort that she didn’t immediately pull away. “I was uneasy about the idea at first. And I did not know what to think of you, either. But it is something we must do, not just for us, but for everyone in the entire galaxy. Neither of us would have ever thought to do so, but you did.” Gamora faltered a little, glancing off to the side. Before Peter could ask her about it, Mantis spoke again. “Also, I think Peter is very glad to have you around.”

Peter let out an undignified squawk. “What’re you tryna say?”

“Just that you are friends.” Mantis blinked innocently once more. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“Hah,” Peter said weakly. “Right.”

“So are all settled then? No more secrets, no more anger. We let nothing get in the way,” Gamora said, glancing between them.

“Yeah. And sorry that I lost my temper, Mantis,” Peter said gently. “For yellin’, for grabbin’ you...that wasn’t cool. I won’t do it again, I promise. I never wanna hurt you, ever.”

“And I am sorry for being so secretive.” Mantis reached across the table to grab Peter’s hands. “I want to tell you absolutely everything, but it is not safe. I should have just said that the first time you asked, instead of pushing you away. I could feel your distress, your anger, your sadness. I like you best when you are happy, Peter.”

“So do I,” he replied quietly.

They smiled at each other, relieved. Gamora couldn’t help but smile herself. “Are we ready to pay the bill?”

“Pay the - Gamora, we haven’t had dessert yet!” Peter exclaimed. Mantis squealed in delight, volunteering to flag down a waiter for the menu.

Sighing, Gamora slouched in her seat, unsure if she had the energy to keep up with their double act for the rest of the night. “Here we go.” ______

Mantis said something kinda weird to me before she left,” Peter said as he and Gamora returned to their hotel room. It was nearing midnight, and he was pleasantly tired, though there was an underlying fuzziness in his brain that he hadn’t quite been able to untangle since Mantis had spoken to him.

“What’s that?” Gamora kicked off her shoes, stretching luxuriously.

“That she thought you were one thing before today, and now she thinks you’re something else entirely.” Peter paused. “Then again, she’s been acting real cryptic all night. Maybe she just drank too much - ”

“She was having carbonated water, I highly doubt that affected her cognition,” Gamora snorted, though she couldn’t help but be curious as well. “Was that it?”

Peter flushed. “Yes,” he said quickly.

“Really?” Gamora deadpanned. “Your face says otherwise.”

Peter crossed the room quickly to stand by his bed, his back to her, heart pounding as he began undoing his tie. She thinks I like you. “C’mon, Gamora, Mantis and I might be back on track, but it don’t mean I understand everything she says and does.” She thinks I wish this was for real. “She hasn’t been around other people much, so getting to spend time with another girl - woman - is a good thing. And now she knows you're a friend. That’s probably what she meant.” She thinks I want you to stay. “She’s glad you’re here.”

I think she’s right. ______

Peter was sprawled across his bed, staring intently at the high ceiling with long, dangling lights that formed a geometric pattern his brain couldn’t comprehend at eight in the morning (or really, ever). He screwed his eyes shut in frustration. It was the last day of their Xandar trip, before they would have to return to a different kind of reality - one where his father ambled about, lurking like some affable, old-school Bond villain, where Gamora’s father sat comfortably in a stone throne millions of miles away, contemplating destruction like he was deciding what to have for breakfast, and where he and Gamora were friends with a marriage certificate and an expiry date.

“You seem very fascinated with the ceiling. Should I even ask?” His eyes flew open to see a fully-dressed Gamora standing over him, looking mildly amused. “Come on, Quill, we’ll miss the car if you don’t get ready right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting up.” He sat up slowly, watching her as she took a couple steps backward to give him space. “Hey, uh, thanks.”

“For what?”

“For dealing with all that stuff with me and Mantis. And all the other times you’ve, I dunno, helped me out.” Peter smiled at her, something soft, a little crooked, but entirely endearing. Gamora bit her lip to stop herself from smiling back. “Uh, not that it’s your job or anything, but...I’m glad you’re here. For me. With me? You know, like…” He trailed off awkwardly.

She paused before shaking her head and walking away. “Now who’s being cryptic? Get dressed. We’re leaving in ten.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted half-heartedly at her retreating back.

All things considered, their days at the outreach center were going quite smoothly. Gamora worked in the back with her people, where they carried out odd jobs here and there, chatting amicably. It was busy work, but it was better than the kind of jobs they were usually given. Peter and Mantis were out at the very front of the building, greeting and subsequently charming everyone that walked through the door. It was what they were good at - the sunny smiles, the friendly small talk, things Gamora could only muster on her best day. She couldn’t help but eye the group of young women who swept into the building first thing every morning since they had opened, who insisted on practically swarming Peter, asking if she really existed. It made Gamora itch, though she wasn’t sure why.

“She’s real shy sometimes. Not really a people person,” Peter would say with a wry chuckle. “But she’s great! I’m glad I married her.” Gamora would then feel silly for eavesdropping in the first place, retreating quietly before Peter could notice.

Today, however, was a different story. Nova Prime briefed them on the press’s perception of Gamora, how they had seen so little of her that they were starting to suspect she was as cold as her reputation implied. It resulted in Gamora and Mantis switching places, much to her dismay.

“This can’t be good,” Gamora murmured. She and Peter were stood side-by-side in the lobby, near the reception area. “Quill, these are ex-criminals we’re dealing with. Someone’s going to recognize me from what was likely their worst memory, and it won’t end well.”

“There won’t be that many people. First day was super busy, but now? Nah,” Peter said, waving it off. “Besides, I’m here. I’ll fend ‘em off if you want me to.”

“Yes, because a few training sessions makes you an expert at combat all of a sudden,” Gamora said dryly.

“I mean if they start acting like assholes. They’re not dumb enough to start a fight,” Peter corrected. “And hey, gimme some credit. I’ve been doing pretty awesome lately, you said it yourself!”

“You throwing me on the mat every now and then doesn’t mean you can actually beat me,” she teased, relaxing.

“Give it a few more rounds and I just might,” he grinned, gently nudging her with his shoulder. Gamora smiled back, shaking her head with a soft huff of quiet laughter.

“Hey, Quill! Quit flirtin’ with your wife and help me move these boxes ‘fore everyone gets here!” Yondu hollered from down the hallway.

“I’m not - oh god,” Peter groaned. “I’ll be right back, ignore him - ”

“I always do,” Gamora called as he jogged away.

Once the facility had opened for the day, Gamora found herself keeping her guard up, smiling tightly at everyone who came through. Peter did most of the talking, shaking hands and explaining what the outreach center was for. To her surprise, many of the visitors weren’t ex-convicts, but rather, affluent society members looking to provide donations or sponsorship. “You look confused,” Peter whispered after yet another sweet, older couple dropped by to hand over a stack of blank cheques.

“Sometimes I forget...some people are just inherently good.” Gamora looked at him with a rueful smile. “Maybe these people have ulterior motives, maybe they’re seeking a monument in their name. Or a way to cover their sins. But maybe they just want to help.”

Peter paused. “You projecting a little?”

“Maybe,” Gamora repeated, shaking her head. “It’s things like this that make me wonder if...if going after your father will do more harm than good. This could be your and Mantis’s legacy - well, hers, mostly - and I’m just ruining the potential of it by asking you to help me kill my father.”

“Our legacy,” Peter corrected, “will be stopping him, once and for all. Don’t mean this place will be going anywhere. Don’t mean any of us have to go anywhere. I really like doing this, this helping people thing. Makes me feel useful. And hey, you’re welcome to join me.”

“You really want me to stay, don’t you?” Gamora said, biting her lip.

“You’re my friend, Gamora.” Peter’s eyes were earnest, sincere. “I like hanging out with my friends. And if I get to do cool stuff with my friends, like kick some ass and help save lives? Sounds like a pretty awesome legacy to me.” Before Gamora could respond, the door swung open. A pair of familiar-looking Nova officers marched in, dragging a trio of handcuffed convicts along between them. She inhaled sharply at the sight. Here we go.

“Your highnesses,” Denarian Saal droned, sounding as bored as ever. “Nova Prime has requested we register these prisoners for the high-level rehabilitation program. We have their biometrics and IDs.”

“Sign in with Bereet,” Peter replied, gesturing behind him towards the Krylorian receptionist. “I’ll go see if any of the counselors are available for consultations, though I think they’re pretty booked right now.”

Gamora watched him rather nervously as he left, now alone with the officers and the snarling prisoners, who were rattling their chains like they were still behind bars. It was a familiar sound, some grotesque melody that she had hoped to never hear again. One of them, a particularly ugly-looking Badoon, growled at her, deep and guttural.

“Princess Gamora,” he sneered mockingly. “What a joke. Who could look at a monster like you, and call you a princess?”

“Your words will not phase me,” she replied calmly. “So save your voice for your counselor. You will need it.”

“Did you feel like royalty when you tore apart my village, princess?” the Sneeper with pointy teeth hissed. “You must have been so proud, driving your sword into the heart of my child.” The chains rattled again, this time more threateningly.

“You really are wasting everyone’s time,” Gamora said, plastering a fake smile as one of the donors waved goodbye on their way out of the building. “Officers, are you done yet?”

“Does your husband know you leave death everywhere you walk? He must, since you killed your brother at your own wedding!” the Badoon chuckled gleefully.

It was then that Peter returned, followed by one of the counselors. “They’re ready for ‘em, officers,” he said cheerfully before joining Gamora once more. “What’d I miss?” he asked, completely oblivious.

“Do you share a bed with your wife, Prince Peter?” The last prisoner, a smug-looking Rajak, smirked lecherously.

“That’s - super inappropriate to ask, what the hell,” Peter grimaced. “Have you been dealing with these jerks while I was gone? I shouldn’t’ve left, sorry - ”

“It’s fine, Quill, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” Gamora said cooly.

“She doesn’t even call you by your name!” the Rajak hooted. “And here I thought, maybe the little princess found someone as bloodthirsty as she was. But you’re just her pet, aren’t you? Do you roll over and show your belly, your highness? Or maybe you get on your knees instead, I bet she likes that - ”

“Officers, I don’t think these prisoners are ready for the rehabilitation program,” Peter said loudly, looking to the receptionist’s desk. “Tell Nova Prime to send them back. Maybe we’ll get a counselor over to you instead.”

“One second,” Denarian Saal called back impatiently, clearly uninterested in anything Peter had to say.

“You should know, your highness, that your precious wife takes great pleasure in everything she does,” the Sneeper simpered, yanking especially hard on his chains. “There was a Levian I shared a cell with, back on the Kyln. He told me of the time a mysterious traveler appeared in his town, seeking shelter. The lord of the land took her in, thinking she was a fragile young woman. She seduced him, of course. Made him feel special. She left within the week, and took all of his money and heirlooms with her, but not before killing the mysterious life force that powered their hearts.”

“I - ” Gamora began, but the Badoon interrupted next.

“Did you ever hear of her last mission before she decided to settle down with you?” He smirked. “You must have heard of Ronan the Accuser, your highness. They were on their way to Morag, seeking the Infinity Stone together, but I guess that didn’t mean much to her. She practically tore him apart for looking at her wrong, before Thanos got there and decided to finish the job himself. Though can you blame him? Your wife is quite the looker, your highness, even when she’s drenched in blood.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Peter said firmly. His hands were held high, the light glowing rather menacingly from his fingertips. “What, you think telling me that stuff is gonna make me change my mind? Or that talkin’ shit about my wife helps your case? You think it’s gonna make your lives any easier?”

“Quill, it’s not worth it,” Gamora insisted, reaching for him.

“You speak of good deeds while you stand beside the woman who carved the galaxy’s history with her sword,” the Rajak spat. “We’ve all heard tales of the infamous Prince Peter, the powerful, charismatic do-gooder, but from what I can see, he’s either a coward or just stupid.”

“Hey!” Gamora barked, stepping in front of Peter. She wasn’t sure when she had drawn her sword, but it now weighed heavy in her hands, ready to strike, and now he was the one attempting to pull her away. “Choose your next words wisely. And keep our names out of your filthy mouth.”

“Well, I - ” With an unceremonious cry, the three prisoners jolted violently before collapsing to the ground, revealing Denarian Dey standing behind them, brandishing his stun baton. Denarian Saal was stood nearby, looking even more unimpressed than usual.

“Sorry about that,” Denarian Dey said cheerfully. “We always thought these guys weren’t really ready yet, but Nova Prime seemed optimistic. Back to the Kyln they go!”

“You guys need to do a better job at screening these dudes,” Peter said, staring down at the unconscious bodies sprawled awkwardly on the floor. “Did you hear all that crap they just said about Gamora?”

“Well, it’s not like they were entirely...wrong,” Denarian Dey coughed awkwardly, looking nervously at Gamora. It was then that she realized he was eyeing her sword, still held high, and she quickly tucked it away. “Um, no offense, your highness.”

“None taken,” she said, letting out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, though her heart was still hammering wildly in her chest like some sick adrenaline rush. “As I said, nothing I haven’t heard before.”

The Nova officers dragged the unconscious prisoners out the door as the receptionist stared on, open-mouthed. Peter stepped closer to Gamora once the doors were shut, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “Hey, you okay?”

“I don’t need reassurance after every confrontation, you know,” Gamora said with a wobbly smile. “I’m fine. I can handle it myself.”

“I was thinkin’ you don’t have to,” Peter said, reluctant to let go. “You need someone, you got me.”

“I just...I need a moment. Alone.” Gamora pulled herself out of his grasp, though not unkindly.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Peter nodded sharply. “Uh, there’s a storage room back there that’s basically empty, so no one’s gonna barge in. I’ll come find you later?”

“Okay,” she repeated. She felt like she was operating on autopilot, her mind overwhelmed with all the images, the absolutely awful images that had come flooding back to her. The smell of blood was more familiar to her than the smell of flowers, the feeling of a weapon in her hands more comforting than the touch of another person. She wanted that to change - no, needed it to change.

Gamora looked up at Peter, wondering what he was thinking. What had he pictured in his mind when he first heard of her? Did he think she took pleasure in what she did? Did he know how far she had gone, how far gone she was? All she could see in his face was concern, not of her, but for her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I’ll cover for you if Nova Prime asks,” Peter added. “Though I think once she hears the story, she’ll probably apologize to you. Again.”

“She had hope,” Gamora shrugged. “She thought they were ready, and they weren’t. They were just as hungry and reckless as before.”

Peter looked at her consideringly. “You’re projecting again,” he said, though not accusingly. “You sure you wanna be alone with your thoughts?”

“Up until recently, they were all I had.” She took another step back, giving him a tight smile. “See you later, Quill.” ______

Hey.” Peter entered the storage room once Gamora had allowed him in, silently closing the door behind him. “Denarian Dey says they don’t have anyone else comin’ in, so you’re good to go back out whenever. Or, y’know, never. If you wanna just sit here.”

Gamora was sat, curled into herself, on the floor of the room, the fluorescent light only further emphasizing the exhaustion in her eyes. She looked... sad. Angry, hurt, even guilty, Peter thought he had seen it all on her before, but not like this. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“You want me to leave?” Peter asked. Wordlessly, Gamora shook her head. Peter approached her slowly as if she were akin to a spooked animal before sitting down across from her, legs folded beneath him. “That stuff they said about you - ”

“It’s all true,” Gamora interrupted. “And it’s like I told Nova Prime - having my record wiped doesn’t make me any less of a criminal. Marrying you doesn’t make me any less of a coward. I lost control again. I almost killed someone, and for what, for taunting me? For trying to get to you? Thanos was right. I am weak.”

“No, you are the bravest person I’ve ever met,” Peter insisted. “You came up with this plan all on your own because you couldn’t stand the idea of watching anyone else die. You betrayed Thanos by coming to me with your own agenda. You taught me about stuff I didn’t know I had in me, and you saved my life. That don’t sound weak to me.”

“A stronger person would have confronted Thanos from the beginning,” Gamora replied. “A stronger person would have accepted death, instead of being the cause of everyone else’s.”

“You were a kid,” Peter exclaimed. “You were scared, and alone. You had to fight for yourself. C’mon, Gamora. You wanna be a good person?”

“Yes, but - ”

“Then you start by giving a shit.” Peter said it so bluntly that Gamora couldn’t help but choke out a laugh. “I’m serious! And you’ve already done that by showin’ up here and tellin’ me you want to stop Thanos from destroying the galaxy. So don’t give up. I haven’t seen you do it yet, and I don’t think you’re about to start.”

Continuing to chuckle softly, Gamora unfurled her arms from around her knees, stretching out her legs until they brushed against Peter’s. He shivered a little at her touch. “Survival is what I’m best at,” she said. “And I’ll make sure to keep everyone safe, too. That’ll be my job.”

“There you go,” Peter grinned. “And Gamora...all those things you’ve done...you’re just tryna make them right. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“I guess I won’t know until it’s done.” Gamora stood slowly, brushing the dust off her pants. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually miss being on Ego. Xandar feels like a place I could never survive in.”

“Survive?”

“I meant live,” Gamora corrected, though even she didn’t look so sure. She paused. “Maybe there is no home for me after all. I could just be a wanderer after this. Float among the stars.”

“As weirdly poetic - and morbid - as that sounds, my offer is still on the table, if you aren’t sick of me yet,” Peter said half-jokingly, also getting to his feet.

“If I left the moment I was getting sick of you, I would have been gone within the first ten minutes,” Gamora said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll consider it. Ask me again after our fathers are dead.”

“Now there’s a sentence,” Peter whistled. “I’ll go grab Yondu and let ‘im know. Let’s go home.”

a/n: hey, all! not sure why i said i'd be posting this in the first two weeks of march when i knew very well that i had midterms, but i hope you enjoyed this (both late and short-er) chapter! next chapter will be late april, as I have a non-au peter/gamora oneshot that i'm hopefully posting on my birthday (second week of april) and i've got finals in mid-april.

the song peter was listening to in gamora's room is everybody plays the fool by the main ingredient. also, i’ve been getting requests for chapter previews lately, so feel free to do so by sending me an ask (though not right away, I just barely started writing chapter six, haha).

thanks so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and i'll see y'all in the next one!

#starmora #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #peter quill #gamora #myfic #myfic: rtw #marvel #i had way too much fun writing the banter in this one haha

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