#char: rocket raccoon

[dailygotg]

.... No, no, that's not how it went down at all.

#comicedit #marveledit #gotgedit #themarvelmultiverse #cbnetwork #usergenosha #marvelcomicsdaily #rocket raccoon #gotg #char: rocket raccoon #type: comic edit #comic: guardians of the galaxy: best story ever #queued #*original

[tigertoramaru]

Ah, poor Rocket!

#non i11 #not a char #tora q #guardians of the galaxy #screencap #Rocket Raccoon

[assbutt-writes]

A Heart Of Iron Chapter 13

Chapter below cut

TONY

Tony woke to the sound of screaming and the smell of burnt pancakes.

"Don't just stand there, Quill, do something! Groot, stop laughing!" Rocket shouted, "Quill, I thought you said you knew how to make pancakes!"

"In my defense, I was 8 the last time I was here! It's not like I was a professional chef or anything!" Quill protested loudly.

Tony heard a slap and Gamora saying that "There are people sleeping, Quill!", and the voices got quieter after that. Tony grumbled and rolled over in his bed, putting a pillow on his head to block out the light, but after a few minutes of not being able to fall asleep, he gave up and asked JARVIS for the time.

"It is currently 7:42am on Thursday, June 21. Would you like me to play your playlist titled 'Tony's Get The Fuck Up Playlist'?" JARVIS responded.

Not remembering what playlist that was, and too tired to care, Tony said, "Go ahead." JARVIS started blasting AC/DC's Back in Black at full volume, and Tony shot up in his bed. Deciding that he was officially awake, he got out of bed and into his wheelchair and rolled into the common area. When he got there, he froze. The frying pan was on fire, the sprinklers were on, the tip of the raccoon's tail was charred black, and the pancake batter was spilled all over the kitchen.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he asked, voice filled with confused horror.

"Quill was showing us how to make this food that you have on Earth called 'pancakes'," Rocket said, munching on a small packet of-

"Wait, why are you eating my blueberries?" Tony said accusingly.

"Groot gave them to me!" Rocket said quickly.

"I am Groot!" Groot laughed.

Quill laughed, and then went back to trying to put out the fire. Just then, Dum-E rolled in and sprayed everyone with his fire extinguisher. Once the fire was put out and everyone was sufficiently covered in the white foam, he beeped happily and looked toward Tony, who rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Really, Dum-E?" Tony said, annoyed.

"What is this white foam? Ooh, is it food?" Drax said, bringing a scoop of the stuff to his mouth.

Quill quickly slapped it out of his hand. "Don't eat it, you idiot! It's poisonous!"

Gamora turned on Tony, eyes blazing with fury. "Why did your robot just spray us with poison?"

"It's not meant to kill you! It's meant to put out fires! Killing people's just an unfortunate side-effect," Tony explained quickly.

Just then, Loki came into the room, still half-asleep.

“What in the world is going on here?" Loki said, voice rough with sleep, and Tony felt his face heat up a bit at the sound of it.

“Idiots. That’s what happened," Tony said tiredly, and Groot let out a scandalized noise.

"What? What did they say?" Quill said worriedly.

"I am Groot!" Groot said, upset.

"Hey!" Rocket said angrily.

Before a fight could break out, a banging sound came from the roof, followed by a muffled "Ow" and Clint falling out of the vents and onto one of the beanbags in the common room.

Natasha came running down the stairs after hearing the commotion, stopping when she saw the scene before her. She immediately broke into laughter before calling for Steve, Thor, and Bruce to come down and see what happened. When they did, they immediately burst out laughing as well, and their laughter made the Guardians see the humor of the situation and they started laughing as well.

Eventually, they got the kitchen cleaned up and Steve promised to show the Guardians "what real pancakes looked like". While Steve was making the pancakes, Clint showed Quill how to play Mario Kart, and for someone who had been away from Earth for 24 years, he was really good at it. He even managed to beat Clint twice, to which Clint had declared that he had to have cheated.

Once the pancakes were ready, Steve called them all to eat. The Guardians and Clint all opted to eat in the common room so that Quill could continue playing Mario Kart, and Natasha, Bruce, Loki, Thor, Tony, and Steve all ate in the dining room, talking about what they were going to do about the aliens that were now living in the tower.

Suddenly, Bruce looked at his phone and let out a string of curse words.

"Tony?" he asked.

"Yes?" Tony responded hesitantly.

"Do you remember Project S?" Bruce said, and now Tony was really confused.

"The one with the genetically-enhanced spiders?" Tony said, bemused, "Yeah, what about it?"

"One of the spiders got out. It bit a kid who was on a tour of the facility, and now he's sticking to everything," Bruce explained worriedly.

"Shit. Have you contacted his parents?" Tony asks, starting to freak out, "Do we even know who his parents are?"

"Yep. Remember Richard and Mary Parker?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah?" Tony said hesitantly, feeling guilty just thinking about the young couple that had died in a lab explosion at one of his facilities.

"He's their son, Peter. He lives with his aunt and uncle, and we informed them, but they're unable to pick him up right now, and we can't exactly send him back to school," Bruce said.

"Great. Where is the kid now?" Tony said, already feeling protective of this kid whose life he had already messed up enough.

"They're moving him here now. He should be downstairs in about 5 minutes," Bruce said.

"Shit. Okay, guys, we need to make him feel welcome. Steve, you make some more pancakes, Bruce and Loki, you find that Lego Death Star we have somewhere - ten-year-olds like Legos, right? - and you guys," he said, pointing at the Guardians, "Um, I guess you guys go upstairs for a bit? We don't need to freak the kid out by him seeing a talking not-raccoon and living tree. I'm gonna go and greet him."

Tony went upstairs and changed into actual clothes, namely a science pun shirt and a pair of jeans. After he was changed, he went to the elevator and went downstairs to greet the kid.

#frostiron #loki #loki/tony #loki/tony stark #tony stark #tony/loki #ao3 #fanfiction #loki laufeyson

[marveltrumpshate]

November 2020 MTH fills part 2/4

Part 1 here.

The best way to see all the fills that have been shared with us is our monthly roundups tag or our #MTH-fills channel on our Discord, but you can also view them through the following methods:

Our Tumblr tags: 2018, 2019, 2020

Our AO3 collections: 2018, 2019, 2020 (only has works posted to AO3)

Completed works tag list: 2018, 2019, 2020

To find specific content, use our completed works tag lists above which includes instructions on how to search for a particular character, gen or romantic relationship, universe, and fanwork type.

Embroidery By Chere - Embroidered Black Widow mask for @twentyghosts - Masks with Avengers logos and Drax, Rocket, Sam, Wong, Okoye, Peter Parker, Shuri, Wanda, and Thor for MouseK

Embroidery by Rebecca/@embroid-away - Four embroidery works of comics panels of Jennifer Walters, SteveRogers, and Matt Murdock going up against some bad guys from  She-Hulk (2014) for Maia_saura

@epicstuckyficrecs - Cover art for "Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: A Love Story," a Steve/Bucky fic series by @darter-blue

flowerparrish/@flowerparrishcreates - Podfic of “Making Amends,” a divorced parents Sam/Steve AU fic by and for @betheflame - Podfic of “Making a List, Checking It Twice,” a parents!Bucky/Sam Christmas morning AU fic by and for @betheflame - Podfic of “Shoe Shining,” a Bucky/Sam fic where parenthood gets in the way of private time by and for @betheflame

Grumpycakes - Mel Cordes/@grumpycakes - Art of Tony walking Steve through a problem on a holo screen for Melissa Gaul (MTH 2018)

#monthly roundup #mth 2018 #mth 2020 #november 2020 #char: Bucky Barnes #char: Drax #char: Jennifer Walters #char: Matt Murdock #char: Natasha Romanov #char: Okoye #char: Peter Parker #char: Rocket Raccoon #char: Sam Wilson #char: shuri #char: steve rogers #char: Thor #char: tony stark #char: Wanda Maximoff #char: Wong #ship: samsteve #ship: stony #ship: stucky #ship: winterfalcon #universe: 616 #universe: AU #universe: MCU #auction: art #auction: craft #auction: digital #auction: podfic

[bugborgs]

i know i said art might be a bit slow over here BUT it’s my buddy’s bday today!! @taivus is one of my dearest friends so i absolutely made time to draw them their fav!!...orite guardian \D

HOPE U LIKE IT BUD!!

#i think cap might be their overall fav mcu char....or one of their top chars anyways but i didnt feel like drawing people so rocket it is #thank u for constantly putting up with my gotg feelsvomit idk how u do it #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #frolisart #art #rocket raccoon #groot #taivus look #groot is wishing u a happy bday ok ok!!!!

[chronicowboy]

Rhodey had accepted his fate. He was going to die, buried in the rubble of the avengers compound — his home — with only a raccoon for company. And Rhodey was at peace with it. Why should he die any differently? He was fine with it. That was until the little voice in the back of his head, that had only ever spoken the name of his best friend, Tony Stark, the voice that James both despised with every cell of himself and loved with a fierce passion, chimed in.

Tony's going to die.

It sung the words like they were a melody that little children would recite for many years to come. They rolled so easily in his mind and so strongly through his neurons, which he probably wouldn't even think about without Tony's influence, that he just knew. The knowledge settled onto his chest, flodded through his veins, melded with the very marrow of his bones. Acceptance, depression and every other stage of grief apart from denial. That could wait for later. If there was a later. Despite the panic of water filling up their little grave, James felt quite calm. Because if Tony was to die, he would be damn sure he'd be waiting for his brother with open arms.

It was with one such thought that Rhodey heard a crackle in his ear. A static screech, that made his grip tighten on the fluffy creature in his arms, which was soon accompanied by a second of what sounded like Scott Lang's New Jersey drawl. The bubble of slightly bittersweet hope that had formed in his chest burst with the realisation that it might have indeed been his voice but not for them. He found his shoulders didn't droop as much as they probably should have.

Rhodey loathed the smile on his face, the relieved sigh that escaped his stupid smiling lips, when Scott grew a thousand times bigger and took him and Rocket with him. Tony could already be dead for all he knew. Tony could already be lost. But he didn't have a second to look for him because he was flung into the battle head first with a cyborg animal on his shoulder. Tony could already be lost. And Rhodey remembered the last time he'd properly lost Tony. He'd never hated sand more than when he lost him in it's dangerous dunes. He'd never loved sand more than when he found Tony in it, arm as extended as the tired man could manage, but a peace sign at the top nonetheless. And Rhodey thought about how exhausted he had been. A week of nonstop work. An hour of laborious fighting and fleeing. An hour of grief for the man who saved him.

James lost count of the times one of Thanos' minions had almost killed him because his mind had drifted to thoughts of Tony. Tony who could have died long ago. Tony who survived every experience that would kill anyone else. Tony who had died a thousand times over. Rhodey wasn't sure he was actually capable of dying. He always had work to do. Had a kid to rescue from the dumps or push them further up the mountain. Had a fight to diffuse in his own Stark way. Had a crisis that could only be solved with an Ironman sacrifice. Tony Stark was invincible. James only wished he hadn't believed it.

Rhodey found himself wishing they hadn't won when the battlefield had fallen silent. The air was thick with the ash of their enemy and yet thick with defeat. He knew he had to find Tony. Couldn't let his mind wander anymore; but in the few seconds it took to find his friend, his hero, his mind began to spiral.

James remembered the gangly boy he'd set eyes upon halfway through his first semester at MIT. He remembered the warnings he'd got about that Stark boy, but James knew surnames didn't define you and public personas weren't always people's real faces. He wasn't surprised at all to find out there was a broken, lonely boy under the exterior of an egotistical playboy who only ever needed a different girl on his arm each night. Tony was a shattered shell of a man and, no matter how many times he pushed Rhodes — as he had insisted on calling him — away in fear of tainting him, the soon-to-be corporal swore he'd be there for him. Always. Because that genius trapped inside a ball of anxiety smothered in an arrogant coating was his little brother. Whether he liked it or not. And big brothers protect their little brothers. How could he even call himself a friend if he couldn't protect him?

So when he found Tony fucking Stark, that idiot, crawling towards some kind of support with one arm tucked into his side like a limping dog, it was failure he felt. When he saw the piece of charred kindling that one would find at the bottom of a fire pit that was in place of Tony's left arm, it was something inexplicably painful that pushed him forward and made him help the man so he could lean against something. He hated that he considered his pain anywhere near Tony's. Selfish, James, selfish. Your little brother, your little— he's dying and you're thinking about what you're going to do. No, surely not. Tony Stark couldn't die. We've established this already. He's immortal against his own will. He is. He has to be. He can't go. And yet Rhodey could see him fading. He vaguely registered that he was shouting for Pepper, but his sense were overwhelmed when he rested his forehead on Tony's.

"You're going to be okay." He whispered. Or, at least, he did in that world of perfection and good timing that always managed to evade reality. Instead, he said nothing and let Peter through. He let Pepper comfort the boy. He let Pepper comfort the man. He let Tony die. No, you didn't. And it's Tony's voice that replaces that little one in the back of his head. His eyes are lifeless, breathing nonexistent. James, you didn't have a hand in my death. I did that for them. For us. And he laughs so coldly that Pepper looks at him to which he can only shake his head. Rhodey let it all happen. He wouldn't let anything else happen, so he slides a hand behind Tony's back. And the other goes under his knees. He pulls the body, the corpse, into his chest. It's not close enough. Metal against metal. Not chest against chest. Not brother in brother's arms. Not brothers in arms anymore. Its only when he tries to lift him that he feels how shaky his body is. Is it fatigue or emotion? James couldn't tell you, but he knew he couldn't lift his little brother. And perhaps that was the greatest injustice of all. Because he couldn't lift his little brother who should have outlasted him, not the other way around. He couldn't lift his little brother without the possibility of dropping him. He looked to Steve who was already looking at him, eyes watering and streaking through the dirt on his face, lip trembling more viciously than when Bucky had crumbled. Rhodey wanted to let him. But he couldn't because that's the man Tony trusted. That's the man that didn't trust Tony. And it was that knowledge, and a step forward from Steve, that possessed Rhodey to lift him.

The universe had won, the avengers had won, but the Starks had lost. And, well, there were more Starks than Tony would ever get to know.

#endgame #avengers endgame #endgame spoilers #marvel #mcu #tony stark #iron man #ironman #irondad #iron dad #ironfam fic #ironfam #iron fam fic #iron fam #iron family #rdj #james rhodes #rhodey #war machine #don cheadle #pepper potts #gwyneth paltrow #peter parker #tom holland #irondad and spiderson #iron dad and spider son #spider man #spiderman #steve rogers #captain america

[goddamnmuses-a]

Wanted Opposites

So I got this idea.. just kinda gonna shout it out to the world.. of writing a list of canon muses I want my muse to interract with.. you’ll see what I mean... Under the cut because long. 

Salazar Slytherin

Rowena Ravenclaw

Helga Hufflepuff

Godric Gryffindor

Voldemort

Albus Dumbledore

Basically any Harry Potter characters.

Christopher Weasley

Any of the Next Gen Harry Potter characters. 

Any Weasley

Again basically any Harry Potter characters

Rocket Raccoon

Any of the Guardians

Llyla 

Other anthropomorphic characters like from Sonic or Star Fox or something

Peter Parker

Mary Jane

Gwen Stacey

Felicia Hardy

Harry Osborn

Norman Osborn

Miles Morales

Any of his rogues gallery

Basically any other marvel character too. 

Wade Wilson

Vanessa Carlysle

Lady Death

Shiklah

Ellie Camacho

Gwen Poole

Cable

Weasel

Negasonic Teenage Warhead

Colossus

Any other Marvel characters basically

Pietro Maximoff

Wanda Maximoff

Lorna Dane

Any other speedster like The Flash or Reverse Flash

Any other marvel character

Aaron Davis

Miles Morales

Any other Spider-Man/Marvel villain/character at all tbh

Levi (Cloak of Levitation)

Doctor Strange

Any other personified marvel items. 

Brian Braddock

Betsy Braddock

Peggy Carter

Captain America

Red Guardian

Any other Marvel character. 

Lucifer Morningstar

Chloe Decker

Amenadiel

Mazikeen

Linda Martin

Ella Lopez

Trixie

Detective Dan Douche. 

Any other angels

Any other DC characters now he’s been seen in Crisis. 

John Constantine

Zatanna

Sara Lance

Swamp Thing

Etrigan The Demon

Doctor Fate

Deadman

Zatara

Any of The Legends

Any other DC characters

Tim Drake

Batman

Batwoman

Nightwing

Red Hood

Damian Wayne

Spoiler

Basically any of the Bat family. 

Any other DC character too. 

Ravi Chakrabarti

Liv Moore

Peyton Charles

Clive Babineaux

Major Lillywhite

Sterling Archer

Lana Kane

Cheryl Tunt

Pam Poovey

Dr Kreiger

Cyril Figgis

Barry Dillon

Ray Gillette

Malory Archer

Any other Spys. 

Nathan Young

Rudy Wade

Simon Bellamy

Alisha Daniels

Kelly Bailey

Jess

Seth

Abbey Smith

Anyone else from Misfits 

Kratos

Atreus

Laufey

Mimir

Thor

Freya

Basically any God from any pantheon

Cal Kestis

Cere Junda

Jaro Tapal

BD-1

Greez Dritus

Saw Gerrera

Taron Malicos

Merrin

Ninth Sister

Trilla Suduri

Darth Vader

Sorc Tormo

Any Jedi or Inquisitors. 

Savage Opress

Darth Maul

Asajj Ventress

Count Dooku

Mother Talzin

Merrin

Sheev Palpatine

Ahsoka Tano

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Any other Jedi or Sith

Tyrion Lannister

Daenerys Targaryen

Jon Snow

Arya Stark

Sansa Stark

Cersei Lannister

Petyr Balish

Oberyn Martell

Melisandre

Jaime Lannister

Brienne of Tarth

Bran Stark

Margaery Tyrell

Joffrey Lannister

Tommen Lannister

Tormund Giantsbane

Varys

Bronn

Jorah Mormont

Missandei

Any other Game of Thrones character

Sandor Clegane

Daenerys Targaryen

Jon Snow

Gregor Clegane

Arya Stark

Sansa Stark

Cersei Lannister

Melisandre

Jaime Lannister

Brienne of Tarth

Joffrey Lannister

Tormund Giantsbane

Bronn

Gendry

Any other Game of Thrones character.

Draco Westley

Daenerys Targaryen

Eragon

Saphira

Smaug

Mushu

Jormungandr

Godzilla or any other Kaiju

Any other Dragons or Dragon related characters. 

Billy Butcher

Homelander

Annie January

Hughie Campbell

Becca Butcher

Queen Maeve

Black Noir

A-Train

Frenchie

The Female

Madelyn Stillwell

The Deep

Mothers Milk

Any other The Boys characters

Any other Superhero/Anti Heros

Death

War

Fury

Strife

Lilith

The Charred Council

Any angels/demons

Grey

Basically any supernatural characters/creatures

Diego Dynamic

Any Cyberpunk/Futuristic Characters

Ciri from the Witcher as she travels through worlds. 

Geralt of Rivia  

Ciri

Yennefer

Dandelion

Triss Merigold

Renfri

Fringilla Vigo

Keira Metz

Vesemir

Lambert

Eskel

Any other Witcher/Fantasy characters

The Blacksmith

The Doctor

The Master

Clara Oswald

Amy Pond

River Song

Rose Tyler

Jack Harkness

Martha Jones

Donna Noble

Rory Williams

K9

The Ravi

Any other Doctor Who/Sci-fi characters.

#wanted opposites #wanted thingies #people who have these muses.. throw them at me #ooc

[marvelloussynergy]

COMIC BOOK REFERENCES & EASTER EGGS - Captain Marvel (2019)

Carol Danvers has a long and complicated history in the comics, much of which would be very difficult to adapt for the big screen. Thankfully, though, for comic book fans, there are many allusions to the source material instead. The following is a guide to all the ones I’ve spotted along with any deviations from the source material (I will update this as more come to light). Note that owing to the convoluted and complex nature of comic books, I’ve tried to include only the most essential information regarding a character’s history and backstories.

Though not a direct adaptation, the general story of the “Kree/Skrull War” (The Avengers #89-97, 1971-72) is used as the basis for the film—the Kree and the Skrulls fighting each other with Earth caught in between.

A former US Air Force pilot, Carol Danvers gained her initial powers of flight and enhanced strength after being caught in the explosion of a damaged Kree Psyche-Magnitron. This was amidst a fight between the Kree warriors Mar-Vell/Captain Marvel and Yon-Rogg (Captain Marvel #18, 1969). The Psyche-Magnitron—a machine that converts thoughts into reality—alters her genes and turns her into a human/Kree hybrid, granting her the abilities possessed by Mar-Vell. Danvers would later develop the ability to absorb energy and fire them as blasts from her body. A slight retcon to her origins would occur in The Life of Captain Marvel #4 (2018), in which it is revealed that Danvers is in fact half Kree, and that the Kree Psyche-Magnitron merely activated her latent powers. Originally going by the code name Ms Marvel, Danvers would also go on to use the names Binary and Warbird, before taking on the mantle of Captain Marvel in Captain Marvel #1 (2012). 

In the film we briefly see Carol’s father (Joseph Danvers) and brother (Steve Danvers), though in the comics she has an additional sibling, Joseph Danvers Jr. At one point in the film Carol says “Higher, further, faster, baby,” a nod to the Captain Marvel comic arc titled “Higher, further, faster, more,” as well as being words Carol’s mentor, Helen Cobb, wrote to her to describe their similar mindsets and desire to push boundaries.  

While Maria Rambeau is a character taken from the comics, it is her daughter—Monica Rambeau—who is friends with Carol in the source material. A hero in her own right, Rambeau has the ability to convert her body into various types of energy. Monica has also used various code names throughout her career, including Captain Marvel, Pulsar, and Photon (Maria’s call sign in the film is a nod to this). Carol affectionately calls Monica “Lieutenant Trouble,” which in the comic books is a nickname she gives to a young friend and fan, Katherine Renner.

Carol and Maria not being allowed to fly in combat missions bears a resemblance to Helen Cobb’s situation from the comics. In 1961, Helen is told that she and her fellow female pilots are not permitted to become astronauts as they lack military jet experience, experience they cannot obtain as women were barred from flying jets.

Early on in the movie we see Starforce dispatched on a mission to Torfa. The planet is a relatively minor one in the comics, known for its poisonous atmosphere resulting from vibranium extraction.

The Kree are an alien race known for their military prowess and advanced technology. Their home planet is Hala, which is located in the Greater Magellanic Cloud Galaxy. The Kree have blue skin, but breeding with other alien races has resulted in pink skinned (also referred to as white) Kree.

In the comics, Starforce are a group of Kree warriors tasked with protecting the Kree Empire. Formed by the Supreme Intelligence, the initial comic lineup consisted of Att-Lass/Captain Atlas (a soldier trained in many forms of combat), Minn-Erva/Doctor Minerva (a pilot and gifted bio-geneticist; in the film she’s Starforce’s sniper), Korath the Pursuer (a cyber-geneticist; he was previously in Guardians of the Galaxy), Shatterax (cybernetically enhanced warrior; not present in the film), Supremor (an android housing the Supreme Intelligence’s consciousness; doesn’t appear in the film), and Ultimus (has the ability to manipulate cosmic energy; not present in the film).

The comic book incarnation of Bron Char (rendered as Bron-Char in the film) is a member of the Lunatic Legion, a group whose goal is to destroy the human race. Though a scout in the movie, in the comics Soh-Larr was a Kree warrior who fell in love with a Skrull, Ryga’a, with whom he had a child, Dorrek Supreme.

Yon-Rogg was a Colonel in the Kree army, unlike his cinematic counterpart who is the commander of Starforce. His antagonistic relationship with Mar-Vell from the source material has been carried over to the film.

In the comics, the Supreme Intelligence is an organic computer created by the Kree Science Council, initially designed to help the alien race create a Cosmic Cube. Upon gaining sentience, however, the Supremor refused, knowing the danger such an object posed. Composed of the brightest Kree minds, it served as the leader of the Kree Empire for many years. In the source material it’s depicted as a large green floating head, it’s true form in the film, however, has yet to be revealed.

Mar-Vell has been changed from a male to a female for the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The comic book incarnation of Mar-Vell was sent to Earth to spy on humanity. Adopting the identity of Dr Walter Lawson (the name of a scientist Mar-Vell encountered who had passed away; changed to Wendy Lawson in the film) he began working at the Cape Canaveral military base, where he would meet the facility’s security chief, Carol Danvers. Mar-Vell would go on to defend humanity many times despite his mission, before dying of cancer as depicted in the graphic novel The Death of Captain Marvel (1982).

The aircraft Wendy Lawson designs is called the Asis. This is a reference to the Asis program from the Ultimate Universe. Mahr Vehl (the Ultimate Universe version of Mar-Vell) joins the program in an effort to help humanity with interstellar travel.

In both the comic books and the film, Skrulls are a green-skinned reptilian alien race with the ability to shape-shift. Originating from the planet Skrullos, Skrulls have a warrior culture and, like the Kree, have conquered many worlds throughout the galaxy.

Unlike his cinematic counterpart, Talos wasn’t born with the ability to shape-shift in the comics. A skilled combatant, parts of his body have been cybernetically enhanced giving him super strength.

Nick Fury tells Carol that he was born in Huntsville, Alabama, though in the source material he hails from New York City. His middle name of Joseph, however, is something both incarnations share. The comic book version of Fury loses the ability to see with his left eye as a result of a grenade blast, whereas his film counterpart has the misfortune of losing it after Goose scratches it.

In the comics, Carol calls her pet Chewie (named after the Star Wars character Chewbacca, since Danvers is a fan of the franchise), whilst in the movie the cat is named Goose (referring to the character of the same name from the 1986 film Top Gun). Both Goose and Chewie aren’t real house cats, but rather an alien species known as Flerken (Rocket Raccoon reveals this to Carol in Captain Marvel #7, 2014) that look like domestic felines. Flerkens possess tentacles that are released from their mouths, lay eggs to reproduce, and contain pocket dimensions within their bodies.

Carol’s call sign in the MCU is “Avenger,” though her comic book counterpart has the decidedly less cool call sign of “Cheeseburger” (she got the name after vomiting during a g-force simulator exercise). 

The various costume colours Carol cycles through are references to costumes she’s worn in the comics. The black, red, and yellow combination allude to Carol’s Ms Marvel outfit; the black and silver colour scheme could refer to the Warbird costume; while the green and white one is a nod to the classic Kree uniform.

Being set in the past, it comes as no surprise that there are many nods to the MCU. The space-jumps through honeycomb-shaped portals is a design first established in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. S.H.I.E.L.D. once again has a presence in a Marvel movie, although a slight continuity error sees the organisation’s name pronounced as it appears, despite Coulson saying the full acronym in Iron Man, only shortening it towards the end of the film. At one point Carol flies a Quadjet, a precursor to the Quinjet. We see an early version of Project Pegasus, the facility where it’s held making appearances in Thor and The Avengers, and in turn, the Tesseract is seen on screen once again. Carol Danvers gives Fury a modified pager to contact her with, a device we see him use at the end of Avengers: Infinity War. Fury puts into motion his “Avenger Initiative,” originally naming it the “Protector Initiative.” Lastly, for the mid-credits scene, we get a sequence depicting Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, and James Rhodes monitoring the pager, culminating in Carol’s arrival back on Earth, which appears to be taken from Avengers: Endgame.

#Captain Marvel #Carol Danvers #Nick Fury #Talos #Ronan #Maria Rambeau #Monica Rambeau #Minn-Erva #Supreme Intelligence #Yon-Rogg #Att-Las #Bron-Char #Korath #Starforce #Goose #Mar-Vell #S.H.I.E.L.D. #Kree #Skrull #Flerken #Ms Marvel #Anna Boden #Ryan Fleck #Brie Larson #Samuel L. Jackson #Ben Mendelsohn #Jude Law #higher further faster baby #Marvel Studios #Marvel

[hiddenwashington]

Still on hiatus but It is with a heavy heart I realize I need to do a big char dump because rl is too much right now and I don’t want to hog them. Please unfollow Cisco Ramon, Audrey Jensen and Rocket Raccoon :/ I don’t know why I bother trying more than one lol. So sorry, loves. Hopefully I can bring one back in the future!

no worries love, happens to everyone to have just too much! cisco ramon, audrey jensen and rocket raccoon are reopened for applications. unfollow here, here and here!

#hw: unfollow #d-winchestcr

[macdav]

Where Were You (1/?)

Summary: You, Tony, and Nebula have miraculously made it back to Earth from Titan, and you find that Thanos’ plan managed to spare some who had been gone for a little more than awhile.

Characters: Reader, Thor, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Nebula, Natasha Romanov, Rocket Raccoon

A/N: Pure angst. Eventual Thor x Reader. I actually liked doing this so I’m making this a multi-chapter fic.

Prompt: “Hope you’re doing okay. it’s been awhile.” For @thorsthot writing challenge.

Word Count: 1.5k+

*Aboard Nebula’s ship, headed to the Avengers compound*

“You’ve never been to Earth. I have. Therefore, I will be the one in control.”

You make a face towards Tony. “I’ve been to earth, too. Idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’ve done more things in the atmosphere, relatively, so I’ll just do you two a favor and get us home.” Tony pauses and glances at Nebula. “Smoothly.”

Nebula smirks. “This is my ship. And I, at any moment, can throw you out into the vacuum of space. Choose your words wisely.”

“Too late for that. By the way, your ship might not survive the entry.” Your attention is drawn to small flames outside the window that quickly grow to engulf the ship.

“What?” Nebula lunges for the controls and yells at the ship’s computer system. “Engage reverse thrusters!”

“This isn’t your ship, Stark!” She snarls.

Tony raises his hands in defense. “Hey, hey. This thing is a piece of junk anyways.”

“Tony!” You yell. “None of us are going to survive if you two keep arguing. We’ve literally turned into a meteorite.”

“Yeah, okay, okay, I hear you.” Tony turns his back and begans to do a systems check. “Is there a cooling system in here?”

“I don’t know. You’re in control. Figure it out.” Nebula calls bitterly over her shoulder as she walks away and turns a corner. Frustrated and running out of time, you push Tony out the captain’s chair.

“Move.” You say, and using your limited knowledge of aircrafts, you work on trying to reduce the flames outside the ship and attempt to land it somewhat safely. However, as you get closer to your destination you see that all of the landing pads are covered by scrap metal and vehicles.

“Uh, Tony....” You call out, getting no response.

“Tony, there’s no where to land!” You yell frantically, trying to lift the ship back up away from the ground. It’s no use though, and instead of the ship thrusting back up, the hand controls lock up. You get out of the seat and run towards the back to brace yourself for impact.

“Take cover!” You yell to no one in particular and shut your eyes.

The crash is drawn out and you know that the ship has probably been sent straight through half of the perfectly manicured lawn. When you open your eyes you see that nothing but the ship’s frame is left intact and Nebula and Tony are sitting in charred grass.

You take a moment, eyes blown wide, to let your body register that you are, in fact, still alive. It’s dark, cold, and quiet outside the once lively Avengers compound. It’s doesn’t seem as though any alarms were tripped or that there was anyone who heard the crash outside even though there are lights on in the building.

You stand up and walk to Tony to help him up. Nebula has already gone defensive, backing towards the edge of the woods with her weapons drawn.

It’s seems as thought Tony also knows what’s coming for them. He isn’t letting you help him get up and is instead letting his entire body weight hang down. You let go and his arm drops.

“I know what your thinking.” He whispers, mostly likely referencing the inevitable reunion of himself and a man he once called his friend.

“If you did, you’d be standing.” You retort. “Come on, its freezing out here.”

Tony doesn’t budge.

“Fine then. You two can keep each other warm.” Your hand waves between Nebula and him. As you begin to walk away, Tony calls out to you in a broken voice.

“Pepper. You think he got her too?”

“You’re not going to figure that out here, are you?” You say without stoping on your path towards a side door.

You find the door locked so you walk back to the edge ruble and look for something that can be used as a makeshift crowbar. It takes time, and multiple pieces of the ship to pop it open, but you finally manage.

The hall past the broken hinges is dimly lit and pin drop silent. You begin to wonder if there isn’t anyone home. Maybe Thanos had gotten them all, maybe the lights were systematically on to ward off would be burglars.

Your mind immediately starts running through your plan b, thinking of the fastest way to Wakanda.

A shift of the light in the hall catches your attention. In the distance, two figures are heading towards you. Your mouth starts to goes sour with nervousness and excitement.

The figures become clearer and clearer until you find yourself in a tight embrace with your feet hanging off the ground.

“Where the hell of you been.” Steve says, his voice muffled in your hair.

“Language, Captain.” You joke tearfully. Your arms form a death grip around his neck.

Steve let’s you down and Natasha steps right in to hug you as well.

“I though you had also...”

“I’m glad to see that you’re okay too.” You interrupt. “Why is it so quiet here?”

“We turned off the alarms, and all the walls are soundproofed. Everyone here is on edge. We didn’t want to make it worse.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Are you alone?”

“No. Tony and someone else named Nebula, they’re outside. We were the only ones left from a place called Titan. I wouldn’t approach them right now, though. They’re not really in a talking mood-“

Something brushed against your leg and startled you. Looking down, a medium sized mammal stood staring right up at you. In its hands was a gun that was more than half its size.

“I heard ya say something ‘bout Nebula.” It said. You didn’t reply, too shocked by what you were seeing.

“Is this another one Tony’s creations?” You asked shakily. Natasha laughed softly.

“Steve, get her something to eat and then send her to the med bay. I’ll take care of things here.”

Steve silently thanked her with his eyes and took you down the hall by your hand. Your feet dragged as your eyes remained locked on the talking animal.

Once you were sure that you were out of earshot, you immediately began to question Steve.

“Did Tony make that?”

“No.”

“What’s going on here, Steve?”

“I hoped you would have the answer to that.” He let go of you once in the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling some food to make. “Did you see Thanos?”

“Yeah. We almost had him too. Unfortunately, there were a few stupid plays that were made.” You say guiltily.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I bet you say that to everyone.”

“I mean it.”

“I have no doubt in that.” You say and look him dead in the eyes. His gaze falls to the side and his movements falter.

“I tried calling you.” He begins to explain.

You fold your arms over your chest. “Tony called first.”

“Right.”

“Is this thing between you still going on?”

Steve slams a draw shut after pulling out untensils. “I gave him a phone with my number in it, I wrote him a note saying that he could call me whenever he needed me, I did everything on my part.”

“I’m not blaming you,” You pause for a moment. “If it helps ease your conscious, I was there when he was about to call you. But there was this spaceship and these aliens who worked for Thanos and all of a sudden I was headed to another planet with Tony, a magician who could use the time stone, the spider kid, and this group called the Guardians of the Galaxy.”

Steve looked up a the last mention. “Are the Guardians still with you?” He asked hopefully.

“No. They uh- they’re gone.” You said slowly, still coming to terms with the damage that was done.

“I’m sorry.” Steve says to fill the silence.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Steve returns to preparing a meal and you pitch in where he’ll let you. You get the urge to ask him where everyone else is when you realize that you’d rather not have that answer just yet.

You and Steve finish making food and he sits down at the breakfast bar with you and digs in.

“Did you not have dinner?” You ask.

“The serum.” He says, and you nod, immediately understanding.

The food that was made was a glorious change from the disgusting rations and un-ripe yaro root stashed on Nebula’s ship for who knows how long. Steve finishes eating first and goes to the sink to rinse his plate. Over the water running from the tap, you hear footsteps getting closer to the kitchen. Your first thought is Natasha and you look up expectantly. But before anyone comes into view, a booming voice makes the person known.

“Captain Rogers. Is that you?” It roars.

Steve looks up from the sink, to you, then to the hall that the vistor is about to come from.

You debate hiding or simply fleeing, but you find yourself frozen. The man who appears from behind the wall isn’t completely what you expect. Short blond hair, a now brown eye and facial scar, Thor is dressed casually, a large axe ready in hand, in place of mjolnir.

He opens his mouth to continue talking to Steve but the sound never falls off of his tongue.

All three occupants stand in the kitchen, in silence and almost darkness, each one of them wanting to die just a little inside.

Steve bails first and places his plate into the sink and walks straight out of the kitchen.

Thor watches him leave but you remain focused on how different he looks. When Thor turns back to you you move your gaze to some nonexistent imperfection on the table.

“(Y/N)...” Thor manages to get out. “I hope that you are doing okay.” His eyes give away that he knows that the statement is not in anyway helpful but he continues. “It’s been awhile.”

-

-

Yeah sooooooo if you made it this far, I love you, and I’m sorry that you had to go through this mess of words. The cringe is at 100 rn

#thorsthotchallenge #x reader #thor x reader #poc reader #steve rogers #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman #stephen strange #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #nebula #thor #thor odinson #thanos #marvels avengers #infinity war #avengers 4 #fic #oneshot #prompt #angst #fluff #hurt and comfort #smut

[dailygotg]

Blah, blah, blah!

#comicedit #marveledit #gotgedit #themarvelmultiverse #cbnetwork #usergenosha #marvelcomicsdaily #rocket raccoon #gotg #char: rocket raccoon #type: comic edit #comic: guardians of the galaxy: bane of blastaar #queued #*original

[tigertoramaru]

#reblogged #non i11 #not a char #da #Rocket Raccoon #tora q

[reivenesque]

Post Infinity War Fic/Massive Spoiler

Those Who Mourn 

In the immediate aftermath of the battle, the Avengers, the Guardians and the Wakandans – or what’s left of them, can do little more than mourn everything and everyone they’d lost. Steve Rogers and Thor are not exempt from the realities of war and loss, but it doesn’t mean it ever becomes easier.

(a03)

Steve is in mourning.

They all are.

The entire nation mourns.

The Wakandans mourn their beloved king and their friends and families that were killed in battle – Steve can hear the melancholic sounds of their grieved chanting from outside the window. Rocket the Raccoon mourns Groot, his tree friend and from what Steve can tell; his closest and dearest companion. Rhodey mourns Tony and Sam, as Steve does. Tony, because no one knows where he is or whether he’s still alive. From what little Bruce was able to tell them, Steve at least knows he’s with the Spider-Man, the Queens kid with a lot of heart that reminds Steve so much of himself, and if that is indeed the case, then Steve thinks he’s right in keeping his hopes up. He mourns Sam because never has one person become such a rock in another person’s life or such a reliable and faithful friend as quickly as Sam Wilson became to him.

They mourn Wanda, a person who’s seen far too many atrocities in her young life and one snatched away too soon. They mourn Vision, a powerful companion and a dependable friend, and their love that didn’t get the chance to truly prosper.

They mourn the lives of the brave Wakandan men and women who put it all on the line without question and without hesitation.

Steve mourns them all, but most of all, he mourns Bucky. He mourns the Bucky he used to be. He mourns the man HYDRA turned him into. He mourns the man he’d slowly become, something of an amalgamation of the old Bucky he loved, and the tortured Winter Soldier who walked around with the guilt bearing heavy down on his shoulder. He mourns the person he could have become if his life hadn’t been ended so cruelly along with so many others. But mostly he mourns his dearest friend and the promise he’ll never be able to keep.

Thor, he thinks, mourns most of all.

From what little Thor had actually told of his escapades in the years they’d been apart, he’d lost both his parents, killed the sister he never knew he had; lost his home and half the people he was tasked to protect; lost his hammer and his eye all within a span of a few days, and the most recent loss he suffered was that of his brother.

Steve has no lost love for Loki, however he understands the strength of a brother’s love, whether or not their bond was forged by blood. He loves Bucky like a brother the way Thor loves Loki as a brother and Steve can absolutely understand the depths of that grief. However,  having gotten to know Thanos as intimately as he recently has, perhaps he understands Loki a lot more than he did; perhaps he sympathizes with his motives a lot more than he was willing to do in the past.

Thor’s mourning is great, though he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t wail or scream; he doesn’t hide away to wallow in his grief but Steve can feel it rolling off his shoulders like a blaze.

Thor mourns as Steve mourns as they all mourn.

They lost the battle and the war and the price that came with it is too great to even fathom.

They mourn the dead and the lost, but moreso than that, they mourn the uncertainty that the future holds.

Steve has never felt such an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and loss and for the first time in his life, he just doesn’t know what to do.

So Steve Rogers cries the way he has never cried before. Not when Bucky’s screaming figure disappeared down the ravine on that freezing mountaintop. Not when he woke up in this strange new world and everyone he ever knew or cared about was dead. Not when Peggy died and took with her the last piece of the life he once knew and was so cruelly denied.

Steve cries for Tony and Rhodey. He cries for the Queen and Shuri and Okoye and the Wakandan people who put everything on the line to fight a battle that wasn’t even theirs to begin with. He cries for Natasha and Bruce and Rocket the Raccoon. He cries for Thor because he knows Thor won’t allow himself that one moment to truly and openly grieve.

Steve cries because that’s the only thing he’s able to do. He’s given everything and put everything out there on the battlefield and he has absolutely nothing left in him but his tears.

--

The nation is on high alert. People are in mourning but their guard remains up. They watch as the seconds tick by, every single one greeted with terse caution and wariness, constantly expecting Thanos to suddenly reappear to finish the massacre.

It’s been hours since the battle ended and night has fallen, blanketing the entire country in a still and terrifying darkness. Hours since the people left behind could do nothing but watch helplessly as their loved one disintegrated right before their very eyes.

Thor’s tight hold on his weapon never once eases. Steve is still decked out in complete battle gear, shields and all. At his side a sniffling Rocket has his weapon and Bucky’s cradled in his arms like a child.

Shuri is at her high-tech console, her hands flying through with speed, skill and precision befitting a great warrior; her eyes scanning through the information flashing past almost too fast for even Steve’s enhanced senses to make head or tails off. She’s looking for an explanation, a solution; anything to explain what had happened and how to fix it. Her back is ramrod straight and her shoulders square, gone is the childlike grin and the witty comebacks; she has her back to Steve and from his position, she looks every bit the sight of calm stoicism and composure. But every once in a while, Steve can see her body language stall as she reaches up to wipe at her eyes and when that happens Steve respectfully looks away to allow her privacy in her sorrow.

Everyone is on their feet a split second before the alarms actually sound, weapons on hand; their terror, rage and sorrow all jumbled up to create one indecipherable emotion as they look to Okoye who informs them that an unidentified ship has just breeched the earth’s atmosphere and is on a set course to land barely a hundred miles North of Wakanda.

They file into the Wakandan ship without word; Steve with Thor, Okoye, Nat, Rocket and a handful of the Dora Milaje. Bruce, Rhodey and the remaining members of the Jabari tribe were left to guard Shuri and the Queen and protect what was left of Wakanda.

They reach the estimated landing coordinates just half a second before the sight of a giant fireball comes barreling through the atmosphere, crashing into the ground at top speed and causing a massive quake that rattles the earth, decimating about two square miles of surrounding forest; leaving it a charred and barren wasteland.

Steve doesn’t know what to expect but somehow he knows it isn’t Thanos – it seems far too impromptu and unplanned to be him. He feels it in his gut and his gut has never lead him astray.

He doesn’t know whether to rejoice or mourn when he’s proven right and the familiar sight of Tony’s metallic red and silver suit catches his eye as it comes crawling out of the wreckage holding an unfamiliar figure at his side. Both look like they’d been put through the absolute ringer and Steve is willing to bet that very little of it is the result of the devastating crash.

The closer they get to each other and the clearer they come into focus, the more Steve realizes that Tony isn’t holding the other person close to his side, more like the other person is the only reason Tony is even upright. Tony’s suit can barely even be called that; whichever (small) section is still a complete piece covering his body is dented and charred and flickering with a constant stream of current passing through the destroyed system.

Steve hears Rocket’s shocked exclamation of ‘nebula’ though he can’t think of any reason to be talking about astronomy at such a critical time.

Steve follows his feet as it leads him forward. Tony doesn’t even seem to be aware of his presence – he doesn’t even seem to be aware that he’s actually on earth until they come within a few feet of each other and Steve finds himself breathing out a soft, “Tony.”

Only then does Tony finally look up.

The look in his eyes Steve can only describe as devastation. Complete and utter devastation.

When their eyes meet it’s as if time actually slows down for a beat before coming to a complete halt. But neither can do anything beyond standing there staring at each other. It’s as if neither of them could remember how to function or use their limbs, or even come to process the horrific event they’d somehow survived without even knowing what the other person had been through.

It’s Rocket that breaks the stale silence and brings both of them crashing back down to earth when he steps up beside Steve, regarding the blue skinned woman at Tony’s side.

“Nebula?” he repeats skeptically, only then does Steve realizes that it’s her name. “Wha-Where’d you come from? Where the other morons?” he asks gruffly. Steve doesn’t have to look down to sense Rocket trying to look past Nebula towards the wreckage, expecting the other’s he’d mentioned to suddenly pop up.

Tony shifts his gaze first, staring at his feet before Steve moves on to look at the woman at his side.

She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even react, nothing in her expression gives anything away but Steve just knows. It’s a terrible few seconds of anticipation, looking towards Rocket to see the realization begin dawning on his as well.

“No…” he chokes out, almost like a breath being ripped from his body, as if his entire being had just been deflated by the news. “Gamora? Drax?” he sounds out, none inciting a reaction from the woman. “Mantis? Quill?” The tone of his voice gets higher with every name he says, until it sounds more like a choked sob instead of an actual word. “No… No – No – No!” Steve resists the urge to reach out and offer him comfort because he knows it’s pointless. The only thing he can do is give Rocket space to process everything and maybe even begin accepting the truth of it all. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck this! Fuck Thanos! Fuck every goddamn thing!”

He begins emptying rounds from both his and Bucky’s weapon into everything in the distance and Steve doesn’t more to stop him. He notices Thor approaching him after a while and finally turns back to Tony, knowing that if nothing else Thor is there to lend him a shoulder to cry on. That’s truly all they can do for each other at that point.

The sound of Rocket’s sobbing in the background is gut wrenching.

“Tony,” Steve calls again, calling his straying attention back to him. “Are you alright?” he asks.

It takes Tony a moment to respond, when his eyes find Steve’s once again, they’re glistening with unshed tears. “No, Cap,” he says, without his wit and sarcasm and his usual bravado. Tony looks every bit what Steve feels on the inside. “I’m not okay,” he says, “We’re not okay.”

Steve doesn’t even have to ask; he heard from Bruce that the kid, Spider-Man had been fighting alongside Tony during the attack in New York and his subsequent absent was a telling sign of where he’d likely ended up.

The empty spot at Tony’s side and the air surrounding him that could only be one of a parent mourning the loss of a child is all the answer Steve needs.

“No,” Steve says, “We’re not okay at all.”

He takes a single step forward just as Tony pulls himself out of Nebula’s hold, catching the man just before he crumples to the ground. He feels Tony’s arms circling around his torso, his fingers digging into the material of his back and he latches on just as fiercely. For the first time in his life, he just stands there unmoving and listens to the sound of Tony Stark sobbing into his shoulder.

He doesn’t look around to see Thor offering comfort to a devastated Rocket or when he moves closer to Nebula and pulls her into a hug that she melts right into despite the reluctance everyone can sense rolling off her. He doesn’t watch them as she cries and as Rocket cries and as Thor swallows his anguish and his pain and instead casts an unreadable look out into the distance.

He doesn’t look around to see Nat and Okoye holding each other close and the rest of the Dora Milaje consoling each other and comforting each other’s immeasurable sorrow.

He doesn’t look at Tony as he rubs comforting circles on his back and keeps his own tears at bay.

He doesn’t look at anything or anyone only the smiling faces of Bucky and Sam in his memories that he desperately latches onto and keeps close to his heart. He looks back on the memories of Wanda and Vision, of fighting the persistent little Queens kid who just wouldn’t stay down. He remembers T’Challa and his kindness and the poise and dignity he wears like a suit of armour. He remembers the brave men and women who fought by his side and gave everything they had.

He remembers because the memories are the only things he has left.

At the same time he remembers the feeling of defeat and hopelessness.  Of desperation and pain. The agony of it all. He forces himself to remember it, to think about it, to feel it in his body and his soul because it’s the last time he wants to feel that way ever again.

They may have lost so much more than the battle, but if there’s one thing Steve Rogers is known for, it’s for his persistence and his inability to just lie down and accept the loss. He doesn’t and he never will. As long as there’s breath in him, as long as his heart keeps beating and his blood keeps pumping he will continue the fight and he knows he’s not the only one who feels that way.

At his side, he can nearly feel the simmering of Thor’s blood under his skin.

It’s as he’d said to Bucky once upon a time ago, as he’d said to Tony almost in the same breath – when it comes to fighting and protecting those who mean the most to him – he can absolutely go at it all day.

The day of the war against Thanos might have already ended, but a new one is already on the horizon, Steve can smell it in the air.

He’s still holding onto Tony, letting him cry his tears onto his shoulder until he isn’t and he’s staring the other man straight in the eyes. His eyes are red rimmed and wet, but the determination in them is palpable. Steve knows his eyes are mirror images of that.  A glance over his shoulder at Thor tells the same story almost as if he can sense the change of the energy in the air.

“Who’s already tired of being the loser today?” Tony says as he physically pulls himself back together.

Steve feels the tug of a smile at his lips and it feels almost foreign. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Tony,” he says.

He feels the prickling of electricity that causes the little hairs on his body to stand on end and turns to see Thor stepping up beside them. The melancholic air around him is gone; in its place is a wide toothy grin that’s become almost a comforting presence. His different coloured eyes however show a completely different side of the seemingly light hearted grin. The look in his eyes is sharp, determined and intense and in that moment Steve thinks Thor looks every bit the god his name says him to be.

The rest of their unlikely little group converge on the small circle they’d created just a few steps away from charred crater and the burning wreckage of the spaceship still sending clouds of smoke up into the stratosphere.

“For King T’Challa and for Wakanda,” Okoye says, twirling her spear threateningly between her fingers, “I want to kill this periwinkle son of a bitch.”  

“I think I should call Clint to finally get off his ass,” Nat says with a smirk. Steve isn’t sure why Nat sounds so certain that Clint didn’t become a casualty of Thanos’s mass genocide but it’s a question he keeps for a later date.

“No one kills my Groot or my group of d-bags and gets away with it,” Rocket says as he struggles to wipe the goopy snot from his nose, likely sounding much more threatening in his own head.

“For Gamora,” Nebula says, pushing out of Thor’s arms and trying to pretend that she’d never even melted into his embrace in the first place.

“Great,” says Thor with a clap, rubbing his hands together like he’d just been offered a great feast, not a trace of his sadness or mourning anywhere in his body language. Steve had to give it to him. He thought he was good at concealing his emotions, but next to Thor he was obviously a sad amateur. “When do we start?”

Steve casts a look at every single face within their little circle, forcing himself to breath in and our as he wills his own thundering heartbeat into something more relaxed. He allows his own smile to form before he says; “Right now,” and that’s all that needed to be said.

They might have lost against Thanos, but they aren’t defeated. And in a fight for the survival of the universe, that distinction makes all the difference.

The End

#steve rogers #tony stark #thor #avengers infinity war #infinity war #bucky barnes #sam wilson #black panther #guardians of the galaxy #peter parker #reiven fics #reiven avengers fics #fics: those who mourn #post infinity war fic #okoye #rocket raccoon #angst #3k words #bittersweet ending

[starkxsarcasm]

Two Geniuses: The Tin Man and Raccoon

@guardian-rocket

In hindsight, tampering with alien technology he...borrowed...from SHIELD at four in the morning, running on two hours of sleep and way too much coffee while also slightly drunk probably wasn’t the best idea. Tony thought it would be okay, after all, what was the worst that could happen.

That was before the machine, portal thingy blew up in his face. 

Now he was halfway across the room, bleeding in various places, with the machine charred and smoking on his desk. Okay, not the best day. But, at the moment, once Tony had pulled himself up and dusted the glass and metal pieces off of himself, Tony was more concerned with the fact that he actually summoned something. Not an alien or monster, thankfully. But a...

Raccoon?

Huh, unexpected, he had to give the machine that. 

“I get the feeling that was the wrong sequence.”

#guardian-rocket #hope this works!

[trashpandaorigins]

The Shrapnel In Your Heart

*Epic music cue* There was an idea…to bring together w group of remarkable people (well one weaponized super solider later mentally deranged torture victim and one mechanized rodent) so that when the time came they’d fight the battles (well mostly each other plus some aliens) that we never could, (or let’s be honest wouldn’t want to fight at all.)

---

“Buck?” Steve looked at him in concern. “You okay?”

Bucky turned to face him, the familiar what-has-Steve-roped-me-into-now feeling washing over him. Robots and cryo and aliens and now a damned space-raccoon. You have got to be kidding me, Stevie. “Put me back,” he demanded. “I’m done, this is it, I wanna go back in cryo.”

OR: Rocket and Bucky go on a mission together. It turns out they have a lot more in common than they realized.

WARNING: Graphic depictions of violence, PTSD, discussions of torture

This fic was written by myself and the amazing @skarabrae-stone go read their Avengers and Stucky fics on AO3 (same username) and on their blog! 

Bucky wasn’t fazed by much. After all the shit he’d seen and done, saving the world wasn’t that big a deal. Even the aliens weren’t much of a stretch—and anyway, they looked pretty much like the stereotypical humanoid creatures he remembered from the sci-fi novels he’d read as a kid. The green woman even reminded him of Romanoff, which was comforting, in a scary kind of way.

Then a gun-toting raccoon walked in, arguing with what looked like a giant talking tree, and Bucky backed up right into Steve.

“Oh, hell, no.”

“Buck?” Steve looked at him in concern. “You okay?”

Bucky turned to face him, the familiar what-has-Steve-roped-me-into-now feeling washing over him. Robots and cryo and aliens and now a damned space-raccoon. You have got to be kidding me, Stevie.

“Put me back,” he demanded. “I’m done, this is it, I wanna go back in cryo.”

“Bucky--”

“There’s a talking tree, Stevie! What the hell!”

The tree in question tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, reluctantly, to see it scrutinizing him with solemn eyes.

“I AM GROOT,” it announced in a voice that started out deep, then cracked like a teenager’s.

“And if you got a problem with that, you can deal with me!” added the raccoon-thing.

Bucky blinked. “Uh.”

“Of course we don’t have a problem,” said Steve, smooth for once in his life. “Just haven’t met many—uh—non… Earth… people… before.”

“I am Groot?”

“We got that, thanks,” said Bucky irritably, brushing past the tree-thing as he followed Steve further into the interior of the spaceship. “Seriously, Steve, how the hell do you always get mixed up in these things?”

“Talent,” said Steve vaguely. “Did you see where Thor went? I wanted to ask more about the Infinity stones….”

Bucky sighed, rolled his eyes, and trailed after him, cataloguing exits and hazards as he went. The ship smelled like gun oil, charred leather, and old blood, familiar scents in this decidedly unfamiliar environment. He was doomed to follow Steve, he knew, wherever he led him; it was an old pattern, as old as their friendship, and as they walked along he couldn’t help mutter the mantra they’d picked up in the thirties: “ Here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into.”

“I am Groot!” Groot folded his arms, glaring daggers at the human who muttered to himself.

“They are stupid humies,” Rocket agreed.

“Hey! What did I tell you?” Peter demanded, hands on his hips. “We’re not calling anyone stupid.”

“That cave-man-looking guy called Groot a tree!” snapped Rocket. “Flarking racist.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “C’mon dude, I told you, we need to make nice with these guys. They’re the only ones who can help us defeat Thanos.” Apparently realizing that Steve Rogers had already left, he quickly motioned for his team to follow him.

“Fine,” Rocket conceded, falling in behind him. “But that cave-man one gives me the creeps.” Everything about this whole situation gave him the creeps. Humans couldn’t be trusted, and there were so many of them. If Groot were his full size, perhaps Rocket might have felt better, knowing he could perch on the flora colossus’s shoulders, but it hadn’t been that way for a long while now.

“His name is Bucky Barnes,” Gamora hushed him. “And apparently he’s dangerous, and Rogers’s boyfriend or something, so try not to antogonize him.”

Peter gave the raccoon a pleading look as all of them caught up with Steve Rogers in the Milano’s main bay.

The Avenger smiled, a little awkwardly. “This is a nice ship you’ve got here.”

Peter nodded, but Rocket looked around at the strange new people. The broad with the red hair moved with the same sort of warrior’s grace as Gamora. He wondered who could take who in a fight.

“I appreciate you all coming here,” Steve continued. “As you know, Thanos…”

“Thanos must be stopped!” Drax interjected, resulting in a few stares. But Rocket watched Steve nodding his head in agreement.

“You’re right, he must be stopped at any and all costs.”

As Steve spoke about their best approach, Bucky listened, knowing how much all of this troubled his best friend. It wasn’t enough that Steve had saved him, he felt he had to save the whole world, too. Had to be the upstanding leader. Bucky knew how much that responsibility weighed on Steve’s shoulders.

He sympathized, of course, but it didn’t make him love the plan.  Sure, they needed to figure out what the hell was up with these giant portal things. Ironman was checking out the one in New York, which left the one in Wakanda for the rest of them to tackle. But Bucky would have been a hell of a lot happier in the ground troops with King T’Challa than dinking around with magic alien technology in the middle of Thanos’s army.

“We can’t just go rushing into this,” Steve continued. “We need to know what we’re dealing with. This is a reconnaissance mission, not an attack. Once we understand what Thanos is doing, and how he’s doing it, we’ll be in a much better position to beat him in the long run.”

It made sense, Bucky had to admit. On the other hand, he’d been part of enough of Steve Rogers’s harebrained schemes to know that all their carefully laid plans would probably fall apart the minute they got there.

"Banner, Foster, and Strange are going to get in close so they can figure out how exactly this... portal thing works. Group Alpha will be their protection detail. Groups Beta and Charlie will run interference, draw attention away from Alpha so they can get the information they need. Everyone else is staying here, with T’Challa." Steve looked around, making eye contact with everyone.  “Any questions?”

They shook their heads.

“Okay. Here are the groups, then. In Alpha, we have Thor, Gamora, Mantis, Groot, me, and Bucky. In Beta, Falcon, Witch, uh… what was your name again?”

“Drax. Drax the Destroyer,” responded the tattooed alien.

Steve nodded, affirming. “Drax, yes, Quill, and Nebula.” His eyes scanned the group. “Loki, Hawkeye, Widow, and… uh… the racoon...”

“I’m not a raccoon!” The very distinctly-raccoon-looking one snapped, baring his teeth.

“Of...of course.”

Bucky had to hold back a laugh. Steve tried to get him to be as polite as possible, but even the gracious Steven Rogers occasionally slipped up.

“Rocket,” Quill said. “His name’s Rocket.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Steve earnestly. “My mistake. Anyway, you four are in group Charlie.”

Rocket growled in displeasure.  “Nuh-uh! Either Groot comes with me, or I don’t come at all!”

“I am Groot!”

“Oh ‘I don’t know you, I don’t know your life ?’ Bullshit,” Rocket fired back.

The adolescent tree-alien rolled his eyes, folding gangly arms. Bucky could only stare in semi-bewildered irritation.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in the back. “According to you, Groot is still an adolescent. I want him to be with the strongest group, so we can protect him if need be. Rocket, you and Quill both stated that your strong suit is melee fighting. Alpha group is basically doing guard duty. We need you in the distraction team.”

It made sense. All of Steve’s choices made sense, evenly dividing varying skillsets between the groups. There was only one thing that didn’t compute…

“Steve,” said Romanoff, “Group Charlie doesn’t have any super-soldiers.”

Loki glared at her. “I’ll have you know I’m a god--”

“And not one who’s particularly good at fighting,” she retorted. “You don’t count.” She returned her focus to Steve. “Clint should switch out with someone a little less… breakable. No offense, Clint.”

“None taken.”

Steve frowned. “I put Clint on your team so you’d have a sniper.”

“So put Barnes in. He’s a sniper, and enhanced, and he’s a hell of a lot better in hand-to-hand. No offense, Clint.”

“None taken.”

Bucky saw the mulish expression on Steve’s face, and sighed. This was 1943 all over again. “Captain Rogers,” he said, in the tone he used to use when about to disagree with one of Steve’s more foolhardy plans. From Steve’s expression, he recognized both the tone and the meaning of the title—during the war, he’d only ever called him “Captain” when Steve was being ridiculous.

He lifted his chin slightly, looking Steve right in the eye. “She’s right. Team Alpha doesn’t need me, and I’ll be a better asse—I can be more useful running interference.”

Steve’s brows drew together, a line of worry creasing his forehead. Bucky could read the expression without hearing a word: What if something happens to you, and I’m not there?

Bucky responded with the tiniest of shrugs, one corner of his mouth tugging upward ever so slightly. It’s a war, pal. Nothin’ you can do about that.

Steve sighed, shoulders slumping. Okay, you win.

“Alright, Sergeant Barnes,” he said aloud. “You’re on Team Charlie. Clint, Alpha. It’ll be dark in two hours. We’ll move out then.”

The group broke up, everyone heading in different directions. The racoon— Rocket , Bucky reminded himself—had been staring at him for the past five minutes. The old Bucky probably would have responded to this with an aggressive swagger and a “Whatchoo lookin’ at?”.  Now, he just stared back, wrapping the quiet menace of the Winter Soldier around him like a second skin. This tactic didn’t seem to work all that well on Rocket, though; the second the meeting adjourned, he marched over to Bucky and looked him up and… well, further up.

“What the hell kind of a name is Bucky?” he demanded.

Bucky just looked back at him, long enough to make it uncomfortable, before giving him a predatory grin. “The kind that sticks.”

—

Darkness fell, bringing with it a flurry of activity as everyone prepared to move out. Rocket found Bucky Barnes staring out one of the windows with a grim expression. From this vantage point, the purple glow in the sky was clearly visible.

“Doesn’t even look real,” he said, gesturing in the direction of the portal. “I thought I’d seen it all, but…”

“You ain’t even left this planet before. You ain’t seen nothin’,” Rocket retorted, but the hair on his neck rose with Bucky’s. He looked over the humies— well, he guessed the one in the fancy green and black getup was a god of some sort. Whatever, didn’t matter to him.

“Just follow me.” As he led them down the corridor of the ship towards the small pods, he couldn’t help looking around for Groot, already assembling with his team. This would be their first time apart since…well he never wanted to dwell on that day ever again. The teen looked at him. For once he wasn’t glaring, just...anxious. For a second, Rocket could almost see those large, friendly, worried eyes of his original Groot.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright, buddy.”

Groot didn’t seem convinced. Rocket managed a sardonic grin before splitting off.

“Don’t touch anything,” he said, opening the smaller ship pod. Enough for four to fit if they squeezed. Widow, or Natasha, as Rocket had heard Rogers call her, slid into the seat beside him, instantly looking over the ship’s monitors and rigs.

“Impressive.”

Rocket smirked. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, humie.”

Bucky sat in the seat behind Rocket, stuffed like a sardine in this tin can of a ship. I’m in a spaceship being piloted by a raccoon. Steve, I swear if we get through this…

He immediately identified the exit of the ship, as well as three other possible escape routes if need be, running through the index of threats and means of attack as well as getting out. It had large windows, breakable with enough force, he suspected.

The ship detached from the Milano with a series of whirs and clicks.

“Hold onto your butts,” Rocket advised.

“Rodent, if you crash this ship…” Loki began.

Rocket said nothing, but his ears flicked back, flat against his skull, and he punched the ignition. The ship’s engines burst out blue flames as they were propelled upward out of Wakanda’s atmosphere.

Bucky gripped his seat involuntarily. Small, enclosed, tight, strapped in. Like in that lab. He shook his head, wishing Steve were there. But Steve wasn’t there. He couldn’t be, even though Bucky knew that he wanted to. He shouldn’t have to always be there, he thought, not for the first time.He shouldn’t need to babysit me.

Romanoff laughed, breaking Bucky from his thoughts. For all her apparent callousness, she did have a nice laugh. “Stark would love this technology,” she mused, running her fingers over the controls. “He’d pay a huge sum for even the blueprints.”

That appeared to get Rocket’s attention. “What kinda sum are we talkin’?”

Their conversation washed over Bucky, a distraction from all his anxieties about this situation.

“And you modified it to go through… what do you call them, jumps?”

“Yeah, nothin’ to it, really.”

“You’re intelligent for a vermin,” Loki observed.

Rocket whipped his head around. “Call me vermin one more time, pal, I’ll shove you outta this pod before you can kiss your fancy ass goodbye,” he snarled.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as the raccoonoid turned around to face Loki. Metal implants, two. Just below the collar bones. He winced, remembering the feeling of scalpel against skin, foreign metal inserted roughly into his flesh. As grateful as he was to have regained his memories, there was a lot he wished he could forget.

___

They landed in the shelter of an alleyway, hidden from any prying eyes. The silence that greeted them upon opening the doors was eerie.

No city should be this quiet , Rocket thought. The only sound was a weird, high-pitched hum that made his teeth ache and his fur stand on end.That’ll be the portal.

“Okay,” said Romanoff quietly. “We’re going to get as close as we can, scope out the situation. Once we’ve got a clear idea of where Thanos’s troops are, we’ll make a distraction. All clear?”

“Yes, little spider,” Loki said. “We know. We’ve been over this. It’s hardly a difficult concept—or do Midgardian minds need so much repetition to retain simple information?”

Rocket had been about to make an equally snarky comment, but he wasn’t about to agree with Loki. He was starting to seriously dislike the guy. “Hey, shut it, Mr. I’m-a-big-deal-just-because-I’m-a-god,” he snapped. “Widow’s in charge of this mission, we’re taking orders from her.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I am a prince of Asgard. I am only here because these puny Midgardians begged me for help—”

“Oh, really?” Romanoff folded her arms. “‘Cause the way I heard it, you’re here because all the rest of your bridges got burned.”

The god-guy started looking kind of pissed off. “I can’t believe I’m wasting my time—”

“So let’s stop wasting time,” Bucky interrupted. He didn’t speak loudly, but there was something about him that made everyone else pay attention.

It’s like he’s a grenade, thought Rocket, and everybody’s scared someone’s gonna pull the pin. It didn’t make sense, though. The guy was big, sure, but not as big as Drax, and he didn’t act like he was spoiling for a fight. So far he just seemed kinda quiet—and yet some instinct told Rocket that he was dangerous.

“We all know what our jobs are,” he continued, still in that soft voice that belied the tense posture of his body. “Widow. Orders?”

Romanoff’s mouth quirked upward in the smallest of smiles. “Thanks, Sergeant. I’ll take point. Barnes, take the rear. Loki—you can disguise our presence, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it. Let’s move out.”

Bucky followed them, gun at the ready. Always ready. He scanned the area constantly, alert to the slightest noise, the slightest sign of movement through his night vision goggles. Rubble crunched and rolled underfoot as they stalked through the abandoned place, the shadows flickering weirdly in the portal’s purple glow.

“Ay!” Rocket cried.

Bucky glanced down, pointing his gun, only to realize his boot was squishing something soft.

“Watch the tail, asshole!”

“SSSSSHHHH! Quiet, you’ll give away our position!” Romanoff snapped, not even glancing over her shoulder. For one stomach-dropping second they stood still; finally, she signaled them forward.

Don’t think about the threats, Bucky reminded himself, eyes looking up, down, and side-to-side for any enemies. Well, think about them, but... just follow Widow’s orders. Follow... Bucky halted as Romanoff threw up her hand, signaling them to stop.

There, down in the entrance of an underground roadway tunnel, sat several odd-looking creatures. They were spindly, but heavily armored.

“Awe, damn,” Rocket muttered, “They got Kree armor.”

“Care to elaborate?” asked Romanoff.

“It means they’re gonna be harder to take out than we initially thought.”

“Bullet-proof?”

“At a distance, anyway,” Rocket told her. “Knives, though… those get through.”

Romanoff shook out her shoulders, taking a deep breath in preparation for the fight. “Well, then. Close quarters, it is. Shall we?”

Loki grinned, stepping forward with the humans, and Rocket swallowed his fear, covering it expertly with his own snarl of a challenge. He ran between Bucky and Romanoff, clearly the ones who would offer the most protection.

At close quarters, guns were practically useless anyway. Instead, they threw themselves into the fight, kicking, punching, and stabbing as more attackers came streaming in. Rocket ended up next to Bucky, using the guy’s height as a distraction while he took out the aliens who didn’t think to look down. It was a lot like fighting with Drax, except that Bucky didn’t laugh and yell challenges at his opponents, or take risks. He was brutally efficient, taking out his opponents with knives to the gut or eye, or punches that sent them flying.

Rocket stabbed another guy in the thigh, then leapt aside as Bucky smashed his face in with a single swing of his fist. They finished off another couple in similar fashion, and then, suddenly, all was quiet.

Looking around, Rocket saw that the ground littered with corpses. The other team members straightened from their own fighting stances, looking around cautiously. Romanoff glanced at Bucky.

“Hey Barnes, you hear anything?”

Bucky appeared to listen intently for a moment, then shook his head. “No hostiles in the immediate vicinity.”

“Good.” She nodded to the rest of them. “Good work, team. Let’s keep going.”

As they fell in behind her, Rocket noticed that Bucky’s gloves had come off, or been torn off during the fight. Where his left hand should be, there was only gleaming metal.

Huh. He shivered, memories of such enhancements flashing through his mind. Watching that arm swing, he was hyperaware of the cybernetics in his own back. That job’s precise... beautiful even… from an engineering standpoint. But there’s no flarking way he’d have been able to make that himself. The raccoonoid eyed it warily as they continued onward, gaze traveling up from the hand to the elbow. Wonder if it’s an entire arm. Modified. Enhanced. Engineered.

As though sensing his scrutiny, Bucky turned to look at him. “What?”

“Your hand.” Rocket shrugged, whispering as they headed into the underpass. “That’s top-grade shit, that is. Must be worth over a million units.”  He was practiced at brushing things off casually. But in his mind, the enhanced raccoon couldn’t help but wonder if this strange human had gone through a similar torture to what he had suffered. It wasn’t possible, was it?

Bucky frowned, unsure of how to respond. But he knew how the Winter Soldier would. He’d  ring that furry little neck. Or shoot him down. That’s all it would take. One bullet, anywhere on his body. It wouldn’t be hard at all. Like snapping a toothpick. Stop it. STOP IT. He tried to force the thoughts away from his mind. Stop coming up with ways to kill him.  How’d the tiny little creature even manage to make it this far?

“Barnes!” Romanoff snapped.

He looked up as she motioned for him to get down. Rocket and Loki were already crouching.

“That’s a Radatet bomb, right there,” the raccoonoid whispered, pointing at the strange, black, circular object bolted to the wall near the end of the tunnel . “We can’t get past it; it senses motion and thermal radiation.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Loki hissed.

Bucky examined the bomb as best he could from this distance, trying to decipher it. There had to be some way…

Loki leaned forward, his fingertips glowing with an eerie green light.

“NO!” Romanoff shouted, but too late—Loki made a throwing motion, shooting a beam of energy at the thing.

Bucky was moving before he so much as thought about it, grabbing the nearest person (Rocket), and flinging them both toward the closest maintenance alcove. The thing detonated as he ran, and he rolled forward, the raccoonoid still caught up in his arms, as the blast hit. In the minimal shelter of the alcove, he crouched for cover, using his back and left arm like a shield against the flying debris.

The roar of the explosion and rumble of falling masonry blocked out all other sound, dust exploding everywhere in a haze of cloudy smoke. Something hit Bucky in the back, slamming him against the wall of the alcove; Rocket made a whimpering sound, the bolts in his back digging painfully into Bucky’s sternum.

Then, above the noise, there was a loud groan, then a crack, and suddenly the ground underneath them gave way. They plummeted down into darkness, and Bucky kept just enough control to roll when he hit, somewhat mitigating the impact of his fall.

It still hurt like hell.

Above them, around them, debris was still falling, and Bucky rolled a bit further, out of the way, and curled into a ball, waiting for it to end. At last, the noise subsided; in its absence, everything was strangely muffled, save for the ringing in his ears. His muscles felt like they were on fire, and he was pretty sure he’d cracked a rib—unpleasant, certainly, but far from the worst injuries he’d sustained on a mission.

Painfully, he sat up, taking in his surroundings. There wasn’t much to see—the rubble above him was blocking out most of the light, and the dust in the air was thick enough to obscure everything else. If it wasn’t for his mask, he was pretty sure he’d be choking right now.

A cough from nearby had him reaching for his Glock, scrambling to his feet with far less grace than he normally used. Before he could aim at anything, however, Rocket emerged from the gloom, the fur on his arms smoking.

“You—” Rocket coughed again, stopped, and pulled something over his face— some type of gas mask, Bucky realized after a second, as Rocket took a deep, rattling breath and tried again.

“You alright there, pal?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, a little dazed. “Yeah, I’m… what about you?”

The raccoonoid shrugged, a little stiffly. “Nothin’ a soak in the jacuzzi won’t fix.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “You have a jacuzzi?”

“Well, nothin’ wrong with wishing.”

“Uh huh.” Despite the urgency of their situation, Bucky couldn’t help smiling a little. It was the same kind of thing one of the Howlies might say— humor to lighten a dark situation, because if you thought too much about what was going on, you might just give up in despair. He’d done the same thing, once; nowadays, he mostly just tried to survive.

“You still got a com?” he asked, peering up at the hole they’d fallen through. It wasn’t much of a hole anymore— blocked by giant pieces of concrete and rebar, it would be difficult even for him to get out that way.

Rocket shook his head. “Musta lost it on the way down.”

“Okay. I’m gonna see if the others are… what happened to the others.” He really hoped they survived, because if they didn’t, Steve would go all sad and stoic and probably charge a machine-gun nest to relieve his feelings, and Bucky just could not deal with that right now. Also, he liked Romanoff—or at least, he respected her, which was close to the same thing.

“Do you think they’re—I mean, they were closer to the blast,” said Rocket, crossing his arms. “They might not—”

“I know,” Bucky snapped. He didn’t believe in God, not anymore, but he couldn’t help praying—or maybe just wishing really, really hard—anyway.Please, please let them be okay. Please let them be alive.

He took a deep breath, air acrid in his lungs, and turned on his com.

A string of Russian invectives met his ears, and he sighed in relief. Romanoff, at least, was alive.

“You mother-fucking son of a bitch, you could have gotten us killed! What the hell were you—”

“Romanoff?”

“Barnes,” she said immediately, breaking off mid-sentence. “Where are you? What’s your status?”

“Functional,” he said automatically. “No immediate maintenance required,” and then flinched. “I’m alright,” he corrected himself. “Rocket’s okay, too. We’re—under the tunnel, I think. What about you?”

“Scrapes and bruises, nothing major,” she said. “Loki did some weird god-thing and got us out of the blast zone. We’re… outside the tunnel. Or, where it used to be, anyway. Around five hundred meters southwest. Can you meet us there?”

“Negative,” said Bucky. He paced the tunnel as he talked, peering at their surroundings. “We’re blocked in, here. It’s gonna take some digging to get out.”

“You need rescue?”

“Nah. We can—I think this is a service tunnel, we should be able to get out. It’s just gonna take awhile.” He glanced at Rocket. “The two of you should get started on the mission. We’ll come find you once we get out of this mess.”

“Are you sure?”

“That okay?” he asked Rocket.

“Sure.”

“Yeah, we’re sure.”

“Alright, then.” She took a breath, clearly audible over the com. “We’ll meet you when you get out. And, Barnes?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t get yourself killed. I can’t face Cap’s disappointed face if I come back without you.”

“Noted,” he said dryly. “I’ll try to keep myself in one piece.”

“Do that. Over and out.”

“Over and out,” he repeated, and switched off his mic. “Well,” he said to Rocket, “I guess we’re on our own.”

“Seems so.” The raccoonoid shrugged, then bent to examine the heaps of debris all around them. “If I had my stuff I could dig us outta here no problem, but I left all that junk on the ship.”

Bucky pushed experimentally at a concrete slab, noticing as he did so that his sleeve had been completely torn away in the blast, leaving the metal arm exposed. The servos made a loud grinding sound in protest, and he winced. Clearly the fall hadn’t done it any favors.

Rocket’s head jerked upward at the sound. “Hey!”

“What?” Bucky asked warily. The last thing he needed was for this furry little alien to make a big fuss about his arm.

From his belt, Rocket pulled a small vial and tossed it to him. “You’re no good with a gimpy limb. That stuff is Havarax ointment, works wonders. Illegal in seven quadrants, but it does the trick.”

“Huh.” Bucky looked down skeptically at the phial in his hand, some unknown alien scribble dotting the crumpled label, then turned to watch the creature assess the situation, his tail flicking back and forth as he walked on two legs.  

“Five-hundred meters southwest.” Rocket ruminated on what he’d overheard. “We didn’t fall straight down—” pointing upward. “We must’ve been pushed a ways from the original blast on a diagonal… so depending on where Romanoff and bug-helmet guy ended up, we could be a good ways away.”

“I didn’t think to fall a certain way,” Bucky bit back. “I was too busy making sure you didn’t get crushed.”

“Yeah, and then you dropped me!”

“The entire floor fell out from under me!”

“Tsch,” Rocket’s tail flicked away the statement as if it made little difference. “Way I see it, we can either try to dig directly up and try to find them above the surface, or we can wander around down here and hope we come up near enough to wherever they ended up.”

Bucky flexed the fingers of his left hand, trying to push away his annoyance and concentrate.

“That metal thing don’t got a navigation system on it, does it?” Rocket pointed to his arm.

“Nope.” Bucky found himself smiling again. “Does yours?”

Rocket’s ears flicked back in his mask, the little ear flaps going down. Under lighter circumstances, Bucky may have found it sort of cute, in the way of a little dog that gets pissed when its owner puts a costume on it.

“No,” he grunted, turning away.

Bucky nodded. So it’s true. Those metal bolts… sounds like he didn’t ask for them, any more than I did. He uncapped the ointment and sniffed, wincing. “Smells like road-kill.”

Rocket laughed. “Yeah, but it works.”

Bucky pumped a dab onto his hand, the off-white viscous glob making his stomach turn even as he wiped it on. Immediately, he felt a cool rush flow through his hardware, relaxing the kinks it had suffered on the fall down.

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly, throwing it back to Rocket.

The raccoonoid looked at him. “I think I got a plan if we decide to climb out right here, but uhhh… I’m gonna need that arm.” He pointed at Bucky’s metal limb. "It comes off, right? If not, I bet I can fix that."

Bucky stared at him for a long moment, trying to hide the way his heartbeat had suddenly kicked up at the idea, at the memories. Repulsors fired, and he threw up his arm, trying to shield himself; blinding, searing pain, sparking through his shoulder and straight into his spine; no arm, no weapons, Stark advancing in the metal suit, Steve in harm's way, while he lay there helpless, no way to fight... His mouth tasted bitter, coppery, and he realized he was biting his lip, hands clenched at his sides.

For his part, Rocket’s stomach coiled, recognizing that look. It was the “bad memories coming back, but you’re trying to hide it” look.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he tried to recover lamely. “And I don’t actually need your arm. It’s just a joke.”

“It’s not funny.” Bucky glared at him.

“Yeah Star-Dork doesn’t think so either.” Rocket paused. “Seriously, though. What is up with the arm? How did you even get that?"

Bucky shrugged, clearly trying to seem casual, but Rocket could hear his heart racing. "Buncha evil fuckers captured me, decided to turn me into a killing machine." The servos on his arm shifted like the scales of an angry snake. "I wasn't much good to them with just one arm, so they made me a new one."

Rocket tilted his head. “Nice workmanship, though.”

“Yeah, well.” He glanced down at his arm, brushing the fingers of his other hand against it. “This ain’t the one they made. T’Challa’s people gave me a new one, after—look, why the hell are we talking about this? You got a plan to get out of here?”

Rocket opened his mouth, ready with a smart remark, but the guy was all tense, his hands all clenched like he was ready for a fight. It wasn’t often he decided to go with tact, but at the moment… well. There was something familiar in the way Bucky held himself, like he’d been kicked around so much he was just waiting for someone else to step up and have a go at him. Rocket knew what it was like, to have someone else’s fingerprints all over your body, permanent reminders that no matter what you did, you’d never escape what was done to you, what you’d become. So maybe, just maybe, he could scrape up a little empathy. Bucky sure as hell wouldn’t know the difference.

“Yeah, I got a plan,” he said instead, thinking better of it. “Walk down this tunnel, see where it goes… and shoot anything that moves.”

It was hard to tell Bucky’s expression behind the mask, but his posture relaxed, his voice taking on a confident, almost cocky tone, almost as though a whole new person was breaking through. “Well, it’s simple, I gotta give you that. You got anything to shoot with? ‘Cause I lost my rifle saving your sorry ass, all I got left is a coupla pistols.”

“Uh, yeah.” He fumbled a little, confused by the sudden alteration in Bucky’s manner. “I still got my XR-16 Xandarian Rifle.”

“Ammo?”

“About a hundred rounds.”

“Okay, I got… fifty pistol rounds.” Bucky drew a pistol, flicking off the safety. “Guess we’ll have to pick our shots. Let’s head out.” Without waiting for Rocket’s reply, he stepped forward, down through the dark.

__

Rocket squinted as he walked, allowing Bucky to lead the way through the tunnel. Everything inside him made him want to jump up on the humie’s shoulder. A safe spot, perched. He pushed the instincts to the back of his mind, concentrating instead on the dim black ahead, rifle poised at the ready.

He watched the metal arm. Buncha evil fuckers captured me and decided to turn me into a killing machine. So many questions. Was there a chance that this human knew what he himself had gone through? Rocket longed to ask him, but bit his tongue.   Don’t go there. Don’t you dare go there, you pathetic piece of pelt!

“You play like you’re the meanest and the hardest, but really you’re the most scared of all.” Yondu’s words echoed in his mind to this day. He was right. So, so right. But maybe he wasn’t the only one for whom it was true.   No!  He chastised himself as they continued, he couldn’t, wouldn’topen up like that. He swallowed hard. Loneliness curled in the pit of his stomach.

Bucky stopped, holding up his fist.

“What?” Rocket barked, masking his inner emotions.

“I heard something.” Bucky crouched, peering through the shadows.

“What?”

“Shut it,” Bucky hissed, aiming at the roof of the tunnel. For once, the raccoonoid obeyed. They crouched in silence, waiting. Bucky’s own breath caught as a large hissing creature slithered down from the wall of the tunnel. Leaping forward, he shot three times and rolled as it was about to land on him, large sinuous body still slithering even as he turned to see its bullet-ridden form. What the hell?

“The flark is that?!” Rocket cried.

“I was about to ask you,” Bucky admitted.

“What, you think just cuz I ain’t from here means I know every wacked-out creature there is?!”

Bucky turned back to the reptilian thing. Its tail was still twitching. He carefully nudged it with the butt of his pistol once it had stopped moving. “Must’ve come through one of the portals. Be on your guard, there could be more.”

Rocket nodded, looking through the scope of his own weapon.

Bucky moved forward, reloading as he went. The tunnel walls curved slightly, dark mold and runny streams of minerals making brown and brass-colored muck that seeped out from the cracks. Another scurrying sound.

BAM! Rocket fired.

Bucky whirled, then shook his head. “That’s just a rat.”

Rocket looked at the dead thing skeptically. “It’s pretty big.”

“Maybe you’re just small.”

Rocket’s red eyes narrowed, aiming his gun ahead, just past Bucky. “Yeah, well, my gun ain’t, so I suggest you keep walkin’!”

Bucky shook his head, laughing as he crept forward. It was an empty threat if he ever heard one. They navigated the tunnel with acute wariness; Bucky glanced above, around and even below them, as he’d been trained. But through the length they walked, the only sounds were rats.

“Exactly how long are these tunnels, humie? You got any idea where the hell we even are?” Rocket demanded, clearly impatient after a while of sneaking about and false alarms.

“Hey, I told you I don’t have a navigation system, here,” said Bucky. “You got a better idea, be my guest.”

Rocket huffed, and then… huffed again. He stopped, sniffing.

“You got a cold, or something?” Bucky asked.

“No, there’s… there’s an air current. An opening, somewhere.”

Bucky looked around, then up, searching for a break in the tunnel walls. “There!” He pointed upward, where a patch of stars was just visible through what he suspected was a manhole. “We can get through up there.”

“How the hell are we supposed to get up there?” Rocket demanded, craning to look upward.

“I thought you had a plan.”

“I told you it was a joke!” Rocket cried, looking up at the manhole. “Unless that Wakandan arm thing can scale tunnel walls, I’m out of ideas.”

“You’ve broken out of twenty-four prisons! Or was that another joke?”

Rocket lifted his gun to his shoulder. “No, it ain’t a joke! But this ain’t a prison. It’s a tunnel. Do you see any security cams I can override, any weapons? No! All that’s down here is rats, and water and mold and that weird space lizard!”

Bucky waved his hands, exasperated. “Okay, keep your shirt on, Christ. We’ll think of something.” He peered upward, ignoring Rocket’s muttering.

“Okay,” he said eventually. “I got an idea, but… you’re probably not gonna like it.”

Rocket’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

He took a breath. “Well, it looks like it’s about twenty feet up, and you’re pretty small, so… um… I could throw you.”

There was a moment of silence.

“ Throw me?” said Rocket incredulously. “Are you outta your mind ?”

“Not unlikely,” he answered. “But honestly, I think it’s our best shot. Once you’re up there, you can tie a cable to something and throw it down for me to climb up.”

“We don’t have a rope,” Rocket pointed out.

“Yeah, we do.” Bucky unclipped a spool of cable from his belt. “We can use this.”

“That little thread ain’t gonna hold your weight, pal.”

“It’s vibranium, I could dangle a struggling rhinoceros off the Brooklyn Bridge and it’d be fine,” says Bucky impatiently. “Come on, we gonna do this or not?”

Rocket shook his head. “I only understood about half of what you just said,” he grumbled. “Anyway, I’m still stuck on the part where you throw me into the ceiling . I don’t wanna end up as a buncha mush on the roof of this tunnel.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, invisible under his goggles. “I’m not gonna throw you into the ceiling, I’m gonna throw you through the hole in the ceiling. I’ve got good aim, I’m not gonna miss.”

The raccoon looked at him for a few seconds, considering, before he said, “Throw somethin’ else through, first, and if you make it I’ll go.”

It was a pretty reasonable request, actually, so Bucky shrugged and headed over to the wall. He punched the concrete in a couple of places, ripping out a large chunk. Behind him, Rocket swore in startlement; he ignored him and headed to the space under the hole. He took a second to judge the angle, then threw, straight through the center of the opening. There was a thump as the projectile landed on the ground above.

He turned to Rocket, dusting his hands. “There. Now do you believe me?”

When Rocket spoke, his voice sounded a little funny, like he maybe got some grit in his throat. “Okay, humie. I guess we may as well give this crazy plan of yours a try.”

Bucky smiled to himself. Finally. He hoisted Rocket up, grunting as the raccoonoid squirmed in his hold.

Breathe, just breathe, they aren’t going to take you apart again, Rocket reprimanded himself, clenching his teeth as Bucky’s arms lifted him up. Being held like this, suspended, was different from being up on Groot’s shoulders. Everything in his mind yelled at him to bite Bucky’s hand. They held him up like this to transfer him from his cage to the gurney cart. They held him like this to transfer him from the gurney cart to the table. The table with the knives and…

“Ready?” Bucky asked. He could feel the creature’s body tense as it fought the urge to thrash. He knows what it’s like to be restrained. Best I can do is make it quick.

Rocket swallowed. “As I’ll ever be...Wait!”

“What?” Bucky demanded, exasperated.

“....don’t tell Quill.”

“Alright I won’t,” he promised. “Okay 1….2…” Bucky threw, having already measured the distance. He bit back a laugh at Rocket’s cursing as he was propelled upward, the end of his tail disappearing through the top of the manhole.

“Got it?” Bucky hollered upward.

“I should flarking leave you down there!” Rocket answered, looking down on him.

“Do you have the cable?” The creature said nothing, but the cable fell down, and Bucky grabbed it, hoisting himself up.

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the small paw Rocket offered. Bucky glanced around. W indows shattered, street covered with debris. No sign of Romanoff or Loki. None of Thanos’s goons, either.

“ This cable thing is great,” Rocket commented, wrapping it up. “Wakanda, man, wouldn’t be a bad spot to retire.”

Bucky pulled off his mask, taking a deep breath of cool night air. In his mind, he pictured the towering waterfalls and miles of open grassland, the beauty of all that vibranium, not only in weapons but transportation, technology, everything. “No, it wouldn’t.”

There was a click as Rocket removed his own mask. “I don’t see the others anywhere.”

“No.” Bucky glanced around, uncomfortable in the open. “Let’s get behind something, then I’ll call Romanoff.”

“Can you see a water tower from where you are?” Romanoff asked over the com. “It’s got murals of butterflies on it and shit?”

Bucky scanned the horizon. “Yeah—about a mile east of us, looks like.”

“We’ll meet you by that.”

“Roger.” He flipped off his mic with a sigh. “Okay, we’ve got a rendezvous point.”

Rocket hefted his gun. “Well, then, let’s go.”

They headed out into the night, slinking between the shadows like ghosts. There was something intrinsically familiar about this, watching someone else’s back in an occupied city. Bucky half expected Falsworth to materialize around the corner, signaling the all-clear, or to hear Jones and Dernier whispering in French, probably working out some crazy new way to blow something up.

Instead, gunfire erupted from up ahead, sending up a cloud of debris and shattering the glass of the building next to them. He whipped around towards the noise, raising his pistol as he searched for the shooter. There. A squat, marshmallow-like creature perched on the balcony of a ruined apartment building, directly across the square from them He fired, once, twice. Target down.

His mind snapped into computer-mode, running through the litany. Second enemy, at three o’clock. Three shots in quick succession, chest, head, neck. The alien went down. The noise attracted others, and Bucky took out three more popping out from a nearby alley.

Footsteps, heavily armored foe. Bucky twisted, reaching out for the alien who charged him, and kneed it in the stomach, gripped its arm and flipped it onto its back on the ground. Its cry was lost to the cracking sound of broken bones as he crushed its windpipe beneath his heel.

Rocket looked on as Bucky seemed to dance seamlessly, bringing down each alien who attacked. He picked one up and threw it into another, then shot them both as he ducked another alien. At some point, he’d drawn a knife with a twelve-inch blade, which he used to run another alien through the rib-cage. In a bloody dance of metal and fire he twisted, punched, kicked, jumped, and shot.

He was moving too quickly for Rocket to shoot without risking hitting him by accident, and the racoonoid found himself just watching as he mowed their attackers down. He fought the way Gamora and Nebula did, with an absolute ruthlessness and economy of movement—but they were more than half cyborg, created by Thanos for murder. Bucky was just human… wasn’t he?

Finally, Bucky slammed the last of the aliens to the ground, grunting as he tugged his knife free of the hole he’d created in its chest.

“What’d they do to you?” Rocket whispered, looking around, bewildered, at the fifteen aliens who lay strewn like fields after a storm. No normal human should be able to fight like that... he thought, turning around to examine the carnage.

Bucky glanced at him, then frowned, moving closer. He raised a hand, as though to touch Rocket’s collarbone, where the metal implants were visible above the collar of his shirt. For a long moment, the two of them just stood there, staring at each other. Then Bucky’s hand dropped, and he took a breath.

“Same sorta things they did to you.”

Rocket felt a little chill raise the fur along his spine. “Fuckin’ scientists,” he muttered. “Buncha nutcases, the lot of ‘em.”

Bucky bent to pick up an alien rifle, checking the magazine for ammo with practiced efficiency. “Yeah, give a guy a white coat and a couple prisoners and all of a sudden he thinks he’s God,” he said.

Rocket snorted, hand going to his own gun. “Doesn’t make em’ immune to bullets, though.”

A sharp grin stretched Bucky’s lips. “No, it doesn’t.”  

They walked together down the street, Bucky’s large strides stepping over debris where Rocket had to scramble. He resisted the urge to smile at the sight of the small creature brandishing a gun nearly as big as himself as he hopped over the rubble strewn across their path.

Movement caught his eye, and he raised the alien rifle without thinking, firing up at the empty window of an adjacent building. The sniper returned fire, and Bucky ducked behind a statue, using the figure’s sweeping robes as cover.

BANG! BANG!

Bucky fired several more rounds, unable to get a good shot at the sniper. More gunfire erupted around them, and he turned side-on, minimizing the amount of target he presented. Above, the alien sniper moved, a head coming into view for a split second, and Bucky pulled the trigger.

BANG, the alien went down, and Bucky lowered his rifle.

BANG, BANG...BANG . He whirled around as the noise continued, just in time to see one of their attackers go down in a spray of greenish blood. Empty cartridges littered his feet, but the shots kept coming. The last alien hit the ground, and he looked up, wild-eyed, and realized the raccoon had scrambled onto his shoulder and continued firing.

“Thanks,” Bucky managed, still perplexed. He hefted the Rocket’s weight on his shoulder; it wasn’t much, barely the weight of an additional gun.

“Yeah, no problem.” he murmured, sounding almost… embarrassed. He made as if to clamber down again, but Bucky put up a hand to stop him.

“Why don’t you stay up there?”

Predictably, Rocket bristled. “I don’t need a piggyback ride, humie, I’m not your pet parrot.”

Bucky tilted his head so he could meet his eyes. “I ain’t giving out free rides, pal. I could use you watching my six, and it’s a hell of a lot easier if you can just face backwards.”

For a long moment, Rocket just stared at him, expression unreadable on his strange features. Then, “Alright,” he said. “I got your back.”

Bucky knew that tone. “What?”

“Nothing! It’s...just that I...I ain’t never fought with anyone like that since…Groot...”

“The angsty tree teen?”  Bucky asked, peering around to make sure the coast was clear.

Rocket’s ears flattened. “No.”

“…Okay.” Bucky knew all about sore subjects. He wasn’t about to push on this one. He started forward again, scanning through broken doors and shattered windows as he went.

“Not the one you met, anyways….” Rocket whispered.

Bucky glanced up at him, surprised at the continuation. “Who was he, then?”  

Rocket thought for a long time, then said, with more gentleness then Bucky had imagined possible from the scrappy little creature, “Your Steve. My version of him, anyways.”

Bucky stopped walking, floored. “My Steve?”

“I saw you guys making gooey eyes at each other on the Milano. ”

He started walking again, feeling mildly horrified. “You and a… tree… creature? Is that—how does that work ?”

“Eew! Not like that, you creep!”

“You said he was like your version of Steve!”

“I meant the—the best friends forever part, not… ugh… gross…”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” said Bucky, feeling relieved. There were some things in this brave new world that he just didn’t want to think about. He eased himself around the corner of a building, compensating for the slight weight on his shoulder. “So…” he said, more gently, “what happened?”

Rocket sighed, rubbing his paws over his muzzle and then the fur between his ears in a truly raccoon gesture. “He’s… dead. Sacrificed himself to save us on the battle of Xandar,” he said.  “He died shielding us from the impact.”

Bucky listened, trying to push the impossibilities and doubts from his mind. Trying to stop questioning how absurd this all was. “Sounds like something Steve would do,” he muttered. Selfless Steve Rogers.

A crater had been blasted in the middle of the street, and he edged around it, not wanting to fall again. The desolation was getting to him; Wakandan cities were normally so beautiful, so full of life, and this felt terribly wrong. Like Italy.

“Damn bleedin’ hearts,” Rocket said, without much vitriol attached.

Bucky could only nod. The water tower drew slowly closer as he walked, its lights still gleaming in the strange purplish dark.

“This Groot, you two were partners?” he finally inquired. “Where did you meet? The Hundred Acre Wood, with all the other woodland creatures?”

“Very funny,” Rocket answered dryly. “We broke outta prison together. It wasn’t long after I escaped...escaped them .”

Bucky could feel the creature’s grip tighten on his shoulder and the top of his head, tense like a coiled spring ready to go off.

What would I do if Steve died…? He shuddered to even think of it. He knew he ought to say something, but didn’t know what. I used to be good at this. Or maybe I was only ever good at it with Steve. He thought about that, for a moment, trying to recall. He remembered, now, the way Steve sometimes looked at him during the War— hopeful and kind of sad, like a kicked puppy. He hadn’t known how to handle it— everything had seemed too big, too raw, too out of control, and it had taken all his self-control not to throw down his gun and run away screaming. Follow Captain America into the jaws of death . Well, he’d done that, alright.  

“Steve broke me out of a Nazi prison camp,” he found himself saying. “During the War. Well, I guess that wouldn’t mean nothing to you, but— they were—well, they were just about as evil as you can get. And the place I was at, they were—doing experiments. I was one of ‘em.” He kicked a rock in front of him, watched it bounce along the ground. “Little idiot got himself turned into a superhero, took on the whole damned compound all on his lonesome, trying to find me. Nearly got himself killed.”

“But he found you?” Rocket sounded… anxious, almost, as though reassuring himself. “You got out.”

Bucky peered around the corner of a warehouse, searching for signs of movement. He didn’t see any. “Yeah, I got out. And then they fucking took me right back again.” He took a shuddering breath, not sure why he was explaining this to this odd, violent little alien. Somehow, though, now that he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I—I thought there couldn’t be—worse than what they’d already done— I thought, the stuff they did to my— to my body, I could… I could take it, if I had to. But they took my brain, and they— they just yanked everything out, took away—everything that wasme , filled it up with their evil bullshit. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

“They gave me sentience,” Rocket whispered, so low that Bucky could hardly hear him, close as they were. “I never asked for it. I don’t even know what I was before I became what they made me. Love, friendship, family, I never knew what those things were.” He shifted, claws digging into Bucky’s shoulder. “They forced sentience on me, but they took yours away, didn’t they? Or they tried.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Shit, I can't imagine what’s worse.”

Bucky nodded, trying hard to stifle his shaking. It’s true, he thought. He clenched his fists to try and keep the memories at bay.

“They made you do things, didn’t they? Terrible things.” Rocket said, hushed.

The only sound between them was the crunch of broken pavement beneath Bucky’s boots. “Yes,” he whispered, trying to shut out the memories.

Rocket looked away, to the point where Bucky wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking to him.  “But at that point you were already so fucked up you didn’t even question if it was right or wrong, huh?” His tail flicked, brushing across Bucky’s face. “Sometimes you don’t even question it, now. And that Steve guy, your boyfriend or whatever, you’re so worried that someday you’re going to revert back into what they tried to make you and you’ll go ape-shit and kill him, ain’t that right? Even if it’s just for a second…...a  second’s all it takes.”

He was shaking now, his grip on the back of Bucky’s head borderline painful. “That’s what it was. Just a second. Just a split second, I decided to crash my ship into the Dark Aster, and send it plummeting down.” Aggression, impulsiveness, total lack of self-preservation or consideration of consequences…. traits those scientists had conditioned him into having. “…I destroyed our only means of escape. Wasn’t thinking...so Groot he, he grew around us and…” He sniffed. “Well, there wasn’t much left of him after the fall.”

“A second is all it takes…”

Bucky was pretty sure the creature was crying, at this point, and he couldn’t blame him. How many times had he seen Steve throw himself into danger on his behalf? Or, God, how many times had he nearly killed Steve as the Winter Soldier? Poor little guy. Universe sure dealt him a bum hand, just like it did me.

“I...I’m sorry,” he managed. “About your friend.”

“It’s not your fault.” Rocket mumbled.

“Hey! Listen to me.” Bucky took a deep breath. Hope they found a cure for rabies by now , he couldn’t help thinking, and reached up to pat Rocket clumsily on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault, okay? If I blamed myself for every death I inadvertently caused, I’d be far less sane then I am now—and I’m barely sane as it is.”

He felt the raccoonoid go rigid at being touched, but then he relaxed, allowing the contact for a few seconds before shrugging Bucky’s grip off of him.

BANG!   Bucky instantly snapped back to reality as dust from the misshot of a gun grazed his boots. Rocket hoisted his own gun with one arm, still perched on Bucky’s shoulder with the other. “Up there!”

The ex-Winter Soldier pointed his own gun, looking through the scope. There, in the sixth story window. Another one of those alien-like creatures, armored with Thano’s telltale garb. Bucky fired. Quick! Shoot them before they shoot you. He fired, once, twice, ignoring Rocket, who was struggling to keep his balance.

Bang! Bang! Concrete flew up all around them; the aliens had some kind of mortar. Shit! Too much firepower! Cursing once more, Bucky ran, ducking and weaving as shells exploded around them, Rocket clinging desperately to his neck. With a burst of speed, he ducked down a narrow alleyway to their left, chest heaving as he slid down the wall to a sitting position.

“What the f—flark?!” Rocket cursed, all his fur standing up.

“Shh! Just wait a sec!” Bucky waited. Breathe. Just breathe. Wait. After a few precious moments, he lifted his gun, pointing it around the corner and slowly poking his head out, scanning the street outside for movement. It was deserted now, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

As if on cue, Bucky started at the sound of explosive gunfire behind him.

“AAAAAHHHH!!!” Rocket’s screaming laughter over the rattle of machine guns strangely assured Bucky, sending the thrill of the fight through his veins as he ran forward once more.

They weaved in and out of the buildings, around the corner, and he skidded to a halt. Shit!

He was staring down the barrel of a mounted gun. Behind it, one of Thanos’s goons grinned yellow teeth. Bucky pulled the trigger. Click.

Shit! No more ammo . His stomach tensed, Steve’s image flashing across his mind as he dropped the rifle and drew a pistol.

In the next second, Rocket launched himself from his shoulder. The raccoonoid landed squarely on the alien’s face, biting, scratching and punching. Bucky ducked just in time as the alien was knocked sideways, firing off the weapon. It pulled a knife from its belt, frantically jabbing at Rocket, who jumped off him and picked up his abandoned gun.

“Rocket!” he shouted, but the little creature shot the alien once, twice, three times, four, over and over until long after it had collapsed, lifeless.

“What?” Rocket turned to him, blood dripping from his arm as he hefted the weapon that was twice his size over his shoulder. “I said I got your back.”

You just shot that thing into oblivion, and we need to conserve ammo. “You’re bleeding,” Bucky said, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor. He didn’t really feel like having an argument about unnecessary force just now—especially as it would be highly hypocritical.

The raccoonoid glanced at his cut. “Just a graze, humie. I’ve had worse, and so have you.”

Bucky nodded, conceding. “Glad you’re on my side,” he said, grinning. “Remind me never to piss you off. You know, you’re quite a force to be reckoned with, for a raccoon.”

He shifted his gaze to the empty buildings around them, on the alert once more. What he didn’t see was Rocket, who had climbed onto his shoulder again. His eyes were bright, chest thrust out in pride, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

__

“Widow?” Rocket whispered, leaning forward on Bucky’s shoulder and into the shattered first-story window of an apartment building a little while later. “Yo! Fancy boy with the bug hat? You there?!”

Bucky snickered. “Shhh! We’re not there yet.”

After waiting a moment in silence, they continued onward. Stepping down off the cracked stairs, Bucky checked his nine and three directions, all clear.

“You seem pretty calm about our situation here, bald-body,” Rocket commented, picking at the small wound in his side.

Bucky shrugged. “Not like I haven’t seen worse.”

Right. Torture. “How long did they have you, anyway? Those Nazi people.”

“HYDRA,” said Bucky absently. “They changed the name. About… seventy years. Give or take.”

“Seventy years ?”

Bucky turned another corner, sliding against the cracked concrete and crouching between the traffic barriers, now deserted. “I was on ice for a lot of it. Cryogenically frozen. But… yeah.”

Rocket didn’t know a whole lot about humans, but he was pretty sure that was most of a human lifespan. “Flark,” he breathed. “You really did lose everything. Family… friends… hell, I bet you were a standup guy before they did what they did. Going off and fightin’ in that war.”

“Mmm,” Bucky muttered, ducking under a partially-collapsed archway.

“They cut into you and tore you apart. So bad that your body was no longer yours. It belonged to them. You belonged to them. You were a tool, a plaything. That arm—” Rocket gestured to the metal limb— “That’s a Wakandan upgrade. But those Nazi psychos must’ve given you another one.”

Bucky glanced at the metal arm.

“That’s not the only thing they did to you, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.” He suddenly fired at an alien who jumped at them down from the rafters. It fell dead before them, and Bucky stepped over it, apparently unfazed. “I told you they messed a lot of shit up, alright, can we not go down that road again?”

But Rocket wouldn’t be deterred. “It’s what’s in the inside that’s really fucked. They yanked everything out, like you said.”

Bucky walked forward, checking his gun as the rounded another deserted street.

“They messed up your mind…...your heart.” Rocket’s voice choked, lost in his own memories of Halfworld.

Bucky sighed, stopping for a moment to lean against a wall. “Everything that was me, remember? I meant it when I said everything .”

In Rocket's head, bright lights glared. Steel tables, blades, the smell of blood and fear… He swallowed, hardly aware that he was speaking aloud. “Cut into pieces with their scalpels and those machines… That’s what they wanted right? A machine. That’s what they tried to turn you into.”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, taking a deep breath, “they tried.” He glanced up, smirking. “Look at us now, though. Sure, we’re a few potatoes short of a bushel, but… they’re dead. We’re not. So from where I’m standing, looks like we won, huh?”

Rocket grinned back, a surge of warmth filling his chest. Take that, fuckers. After all that, we’re alive.

“What about you? You were just an innocent… creature… and they—they tortured you…”

Rocket stared incredulously at the only person in this whole damn galaxy who perhaps understood, truly understood what he’d been through. He shook his head. Out of all the creatures in the damn galaxy. Not even Yondu, not even Groot, fully knew what this humie knows. What a world.

“So you don’t remember anything at all?” Bucky asked, unable to silence his curiosity.

“Just smells.” Rocket said. “Trees, dirt mostly and other things...fur, I think. Musk.” He shook his head, snapping out of it. “Guess that’s why I don’t mind having Groot around. He smells like a tree.”

Don’t mind having Groot around. Bucky almost snorted. That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. He recalled the raccoons that rummaged in the bins behind his childhood apartment in New York, and had a vivid mental image of Rocket popping out of a trashcan, gun and all. He bit back a laugh at the thought. The prickly little creature probably wouldn’t appreciate the joke.

Rocket suddenly tensed, whiskers twitching.

“What is it?” Bucky looked around, but couldn’t see anything.

“Someone’s coming,” the raccoonoid swung his gun around, aiming at where they had just passed.

Bucky switched his mic on. “Romanoff?” he whispered.

For a moment, there was only silence. Bucky waited, holding his breath. All the fur on Rocket’s neck stood up.

“There you are!”

Bucky lowered his gun, sighing with relief as Romanoff and Loki rounded the corner.

“We thought you’d gotten lost,” said Romanoff, a flicker of genuine relief barely audible before she cleared her throat and resumed practiced practicality. “We set off one of the explosions, but there’s still the illusions left to do, and we need a full team for that.”

“We tried to get to you. There were a lot more aliens than we thought,” Bucky explained.

“Well, you’re here now. Let’s finish this up.”

“We can’t,” said Loki. “My Rendelian crystal is missing!”

Romanoff gave him a look of flat disbelief. “Don’t tell me you lost it?”

He huffed in frustration. “I had it right here, in my pocket! Rendelian crystals don’t just get up and walk away!”

“You’ll have to do without it,” said Romanoff impatiently. “We don’t have time for this!”

“I needed that crystal to channel my power! I can’t create that kind of illusion without some kind of focus!”

“Sounds important,” said Rocket innocently.

Bucky cast him a sharp look. Years of dealing with Steve’s bullshit had made him very familiar with that particular tone, and it never meant anything but trouble.

“Yes, it is!”

“Valuable, too.”

“It’s practically priceless!”

Rocket reached into his pocket, smirking. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d be willing to give it back to you for, say, a few thousand units.”

There was a taut moment of silence, like the instant before the release of a bowstring. The scene could have been a photograph: Rocket smirking, Romanoff wary, Loki slowly going incandescent with rage. Bucky could almost hear the snap when it broke.

“You!” Loki snarled. “You insulting, insufferable little freak!” He lunged towards Rocket with incredible speed.

The raccoonoid hunkered down on all fours on instinct, fur bristling, but Loki was too quick, grabbing Rocket by the scruff of his neck and held him dangling, snarling and spitting.

“I’m going to skin you alive and roast you on a spit, you little animal!” He jabbed a finger at Rocket’s snarling muzzle. “I don’t know who made you, but they should’ve killed you the first chance they got. You rat! I…”

Click-click.   The mischief-maker stopped short, the barrel of Bucky’s rifle pointed squarely between his eyes.

“Put. Him. Down,” Bucky whispered dangerously.

Loki’s expression shifted from furious to incredulous before settling on fear as he stared at Bucky’s murderous face.

Bucky’s rifle didn’t waver; rage was coursing through him, cold and hard and dangerous as ice. “I’m not asking again. Release him.”

The Asguardian swallowed, then let go, dropping Rocket to land all fours on the ground.

Bucky slammed Loki against the wall, arm to his throat. He’d rather scare the man than kill him, but right now, he wouldn’t be shedding any tears if he gave Loki a few bruises to remember him by.

“I won’t be told what to do…” Loki’s breath shook as Bucky pressed his arm harder into his neck, pinning him to the wall.

“You will apologize to him. You will respect him and you will never speak that way to him again. And if you threaten him one more time…”

“Boys,” Romanoff drawled, still leaning against the opposite wall of the alley, “Let’s calm down a bit, shall we?”

“Apologize,” Bucky growled, drawing a knife from his belt. “Now.”

“Barnes, come on, calm down.”

“It’s— just—a rodent,” Loki choked out, either stupid or suicidally confident.

“Yeah,” said Bucky, baring his teeth. “And I’m just a brain-damaged assassin.” He touched the knife tip to the place where Loki’s ear met his skull; a cut there wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt like hell. “I don’t like bullies, pal. You got five seconds.”

“Alright!” gasped Loki. “Alright! I’m—sorry. There. Happy?”

“What are you sorry for? Tell him, not me.”

“I’m sorry I called him—you—those things! And threatened you!”

“And…?”

“And I won’t do it again!”

Bucky stepped back, letting him fall. Turning, he caught Rocket’s eyes.

“You crazy son of a bitch.” Rocket’s tone sounded closer to awe than anger. “I coulda handled him.”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, sheathing his knife and picking up the rifle. “But I don’t let nobody talk to my friends like that. Not on my watch.”

Rocket opened his mouth, then closed it again, apparently at a loss for words. Before anything else could be said, Romanoff stepped in.

“Okay, if we’re done with all the posturing, could we please focus, here? Rocket, why don’t you hand Loki the damned crystal, and we can get this over with.”

Wordlessly, Rocket threw the thing to Loki, who accepted it with a grunt.

“Follow me,” Romanoff ordered, and the rest of them stepped in line behind her.

Rocket trailed behind Bucky, running a hand through his fur. “Uhhh, listen… thanks for what you did back there.”

Bucky glanced down at him, a smile coming to his face. “Any time,” he said sincerely.

It felt good to stand up for someone again, to do something simple and good. It had been a long time since he defended people, protected them.Steve would be proud. The thought of it made his smile widen as they headed out.

__

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Rocket dove out of the way as the delivery van he’d been sheltering behind vaporized under an energy bolt from an alien gun. “Bucky, where the hell are you?”

Three shots rang out in quick succession, followed by a sudden silence.

“Taking out the sniper,” said Bucky over the coms. “You okay?”

“Of course I am, humie. Take a little more than that to take me out,” Rocket bluffed, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. “We done here, or what?”

He still couldn’t see Bucky; the guy was on the rooftops somewhere, but he seemed to have an ability to blend in just about anywhere. Off in the distance, the illusions Loki had set continued to flare and crackle like fireworks. They needed to get out of here, before Thanos’s troops caught them.

“Romanoff?” Bucky asked. “What are your orders?”

Silence.

“Romanoff?”

Another, nerve-wracking silence, then a cough, then Romanoff’s voice. “Yeah, I— sorry. My com got—” She broke off.

“What the hell is going on?” Rocket demanded. “We need to get out of here!”

“Much as I hate to agree with the—”

“Shut up, Loki,” Bucky snapped. “I’ve got Romanoff. Meet me by that— is that a burger place? Whatever. The place with the sign.”

Rocket hurried to the storefront indicated, ears swiveling to catch any hint of attackers. Nothing moved; for the moment, their little section of the city seemed to be deserted. Loki met him at the door, pointedly looking over his head, like it was beneath him to acknowledge a rodent . Rocket gave a little hiss. Same to you, asshole.

“Hurry up, Bucky,” he snapped into his com. “We don’t got all day.”

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he rounded the corner, carrying—oh. He was carrying Romanoff, and the way her head was lolling against his chest did not bode well.

“What happened to her?” Rocket demanded, hurrying forward.

“Knife wound, maybe broken ribs, not sure what else,” said Bucky. “She was under a pile of dead aliens when I found her. Loki, I’m gonna need that coat.”

“I—” Bucky gave him a dark look. “Coat. Now.”

Loki huffed, but stripped off his coat and handed it over.

“You two keep a lookout. I’m gonna bandage her up.” Bucky laid Romanoff on one of the tables inside, cushioning her head on his own jacket, then began cutting Loki’s coat into strips. The knife was still stuck in her thigh, which was probably the reason she hadn’t bled out already—but there was no way they could get her back to the Milano without jostling it. It needed to come out.

At least she’s already unconscious, he thought, and set about making a tourniquet.

Romanoff woke up just as Bucky finished bandaging her.

“Fuck,” she groaned, and then, “Barnes?”

“Hi,” he said, ridiculously awkward for someone who had her blood all over his hands. Then again, maybe that had something to do with his awkwardness. Usually being covered in blood didn’t mean he’d just saved someone. “How are you feeling?”

“Alive,” she said drily. “Which is honestly more than I was expecting, so I’ll take it.” She pushed herself up on her elbows, uttering a slight hiss of pain. “What’s the damage?”

“It missed your femoral artery by about half a centimeter,” he told her. “I put a tourniquet on and packed it with those vibranium bead things of Shuri’s. Other than that—I think you’ve got at least one broken rib, but nothing’s poking through, so I’m gonna assume you’re not about to collapse a lung. Did you hit your head?”

Romanoff shook her head. “Nope, just— moved wrong, fainted.” She looked disgruntled. “I hate it when I do that.”

“It happens to the best of us,” he assured her solemnly.

“Super-soldiers,” she muttered. “Okay, we need to get out of here, back to the pod. Are Rocket and Loki okay?”

“They’re fine. We need to get you to the Milano before you lose any more blood— or before that tourniquet starts causing problems. The pod’s too far away.”

“I see.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t suppose Thanos’s minions left any alien ships lying around here?”

“Hey guys!” Rocket called from outside. “There’s a bunch of hoverbikes out here!”

As it turned out, only one of the hoverbikes was working, but one was all they needed. After a short debate, Loki and Romanoff took the bike back to the Milano, as (a) Loki could create illusions to mask their presence, lessening the risk of them being attacked, (b) Romanoff needed someone bigger than her to support her in case she lost consciousness again, and (c) there was no way Bucky was leaving Loki and Rocket alone together.

As the hoverbike disappeared into the distance, Rocket turned to Bucky. “Well, guess it’s just us again.”

“Yeah.” Bucky wiped his bloody hands on his pants, then slung his rifle over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get back to the shuttle.”

___

“Groot!” Rocket launched himself at his friend, wrapping his arms around Groot’s legs as far as they would go. “Buddy! Are you okay? You ain’t hurt?”

“I am Groot.”

“What d’you mean, ‘Of course not’? You coulda been— you coulda been—” Rocket’s words were lost as he wound his arms even more tightly around the tree-like creature’s leg. The teen rolled his eyes, making an annoyed huff, but he made no attempt to pry Rocket off of him, and even grew several vines around the raccoonoid’s torso in what Bucky could only interpret as a tight hug.

Bucky snorted, and tried to cover it with a cough.

Rocket glared at him. “You got a problem, pal?”

“Not me,” said Bucky innocently, but he couldn’t quite keep the smirk off his face. “Just gotta say, for a guy who goes on about other people beingbleeding hearts , you’re kind of a sap.”

Rocket’s reply was drowned out by a shout from down the hall.

“You didn’t tell me he was here!” Steve came barreling into the room like he was about to take down the entire Third Reich, and skidded to a halt in front of Bucky.

“Bucky!” he said breathlessly. “Are you— I mean—can I—”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Just get over here, Stevie.”

Apparently that was all it took, because the next second, he was enveloped in Steve’s arms, with Steve’s face buried in his shoulder. Bucky held on tight, bringing his right hand up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.

“Yeah, okay, darlin’. I got you. You’re okay.”

“I thought I lost you,” Steve mumbled into his shoulder. “When they came back , and Nat was injured, and you weren’t—you weren’t—”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Bucky rubbed his back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “But I’m okay. I came back, Steve. I came back to you.”

Behind him, Rocket said something in a sarcastic tone that probably meant it was directed at him. He turned his head enough to look over at the raccoonoid.

“What was that?”

Rocket crossed his arms, but his whiskers were twitching in what Bucky was pretty sure was a grin. “I said, it takes one to know one, buster.”

Bucky patted Steve’s hair, noticing that Groot’s— tendrils? Vines? Appendages—were still wrapped firmly around Rocket. Something was expanding in his chest, a great, light pressure like a balloon, filling his lungs and heart and buoying him up. It took a moment to recognize the feeling ashappiness.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Yeah, it does.”

THE END

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #rocket raccoon #groot #grocket #natasha romanoff #loki laufeyson #captain america #avengers #Guardians of the Galaxy #infinity war #friendship #back widow #hurt and comfort #friends

[cindyfelicia]

I’ve watched infinity war and mhh, got lots of thoughts and a good deal of anger. I’m putting it down on here but don’t read it if you don’t want me to spoil your enjoyment, at the end of the day it’s not that deep, it’s just a big blockbuster with lots of cgi aliens, some jokes and a big battle in the middle, you watch it you won’t regret those 2 and a half hours too much, you spend time analyzing it tho and you will regret it, as I love doing things that are bad for me here I am:

thor really Did That I think I’m in love I can’t believe I escaped this for 7 years only to fall on my own sword on a movie such as this

we were all expecting it with how many people were shoehorned in there so like..we been known that it wasn’t gonna have any fulfilling character’s arcs; actually considering what I expected getting in I got more than I thought I would (namely, thor)

marvel back at it with the tony stank: infinity war mhhh all that screen time could have been used on people such as the wakandans, or sam, or idk? gamora and nebula mayhaps?? this should have been their movie and it wasn’t which is criminal

that brings me to the Anger Point: I cannot fucking believe they went OUT OF THEIR WAY to establish that thanos’ love for gamora was valid... this is so harmful and gross idk how to address it properly I’m ANGRY I saw people talk about it but seeing it felt so so bad and it turns out, even warned, I wasn’t ready, I felt like the russo brothers came up to me and punched me in the face without provocation

I can think of 10 different ways they could have made this movie a one part only simply by giving me the only thing I actually wanted out of it aka gamora and nebula teaming up to kill thanos but noooo tony stank: avengers 4 up next 

why can’t peter parker be a character in his own right? why does tony have to be there every time he moves a muscle?

Anger Point #2: I had to sit there while vision talked about him wanda sleeping together  I’m never gonna get my innocence or peace of mind back ever again, this will haunt me till my dying day. 50 years old toaster man get your hands off of fake wanda challenge

I can see this next avengers movie in my mind eye as if it had already been released, they really pointed it all on shock value on this movie and none on suspense for the next, yeah there’s some build up but not nearly enough to have me on the edge of my seat for part 2

Anger Point #3: I felt hated to an enormous degree while watching this movie. there are so many ableist moments and jokes, they really went for it, really laid it on as think as they possibly could, I joked after Ragnarok about the mcu not being able to take a stand and give thor all his comic counterpart’s disabilities but I was not kidding they even de facto gave him the eye back  wow cheers.. you can’t take thanos with only one eye.. I almost walked out just on that + bucky’s arm joke.. rocket raccoon die challenge, no wait.. marvel stop fucking being ableist challenge. also felt hated bc they don’t even actually have gay characters but they still kill them off all the time ookay

if they only bring back chars that turned to dust and not also the ones that were actually killed I’m through with this franchise... they opened the movie by killing heimdall.. how about feige dies instead

lastly despite them not even talking to each other sambucky rises once again.. in the first wakandas’ scenes they were outside not because they needed someone with speaking roles to warn about the attack, but bc they were catching up and probably also smooching, you know I’m right

#infinity war spoilers / #spoilers #fra watches stuff #if you like tony (in this economy?) don't read this pls