#gotg oc

The big Ravager’s face turns a shade grayer before his mouth pinches and his crimson eyes narrow. “Someone tried to force you into it, girlie?”

She tilts her head. Yes, she almost says, then second-guesses herself. Had she not been complicit?

And then she remembers how she had wanted to run out into the lightning or walk into the sea that night. She remembers the lacelike pattern of the rain reflected on the shadowed walls, the guttered candle, and how she’d craved Rocket’s hot hands crushing her throat rather than signing that electrocontract in antiseptic shadows of the Arete. She remembers how she’d spent most of her existence feeling colder and more lifeless than anything on Fron.

And she thinks about Pete, and his desperation to marry Gamora before the next life-threatening conflict. She thinks about the warmth of the little dining nook in the Fronnish kitchens, and the braziers under the beds where Littlefoot is already snoring and snuffling softly. She thinks of the Fronnishfolk out in the snow, planting posts for stringlights, and digging firepits with Ravagers to keep all the wedding-guests warm. She thinks about a universe that is constantly expanding, with each galaxy growing further away from one beside it, and she thinks of everyone and everything becoming more separate and distinct and alone.

And then she thinks of what it means to find love in spite of all that, and how it’s not only a joy for the people involved, but a lamp-post and a lighthouse for others, too.

Instead of answering directly, she repeats, “I was nearly married once. I was hours away from being a wife. Minutes, maybe. We were going to have dinner. Sign an electrocontract.” She hesitates. Her teeth sink into her lip. “I couldn’t stop shivering. I was fantasizing about death. Ravager-weddings might mean always being remembered — but I would have given up almost anything to make my betrothed forget.”

The Centaurian’s scarlet eyes grow harder. “Did Rat kill ‘em yet?” Then: “Sorry. Rocket kill ‘em yet?”

Pearl pulls back, and when she smiles, it feels surprisingly light on her face. “Oh, no,” she tells the captain. “Not yet."

read chapter forty-one. eisce. ✩ cicatrix masterlist & notes | see warnings and art below.

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a story about scars. two survivors learn about themselves, each other, hope, and the universe. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs.

ART: pearl’s character design | pearl & rocket’s bunk | heartspur scene | chapter one. nemotia. art by @/frostedwitch| rocket & pearl snuggle | adorable pearl x rocket selfie by @/starriidreams | sexy, evocative waterlily pearl x rocket painting by @/hibatasblog ♡ | rocket combs pearl's hair | immerensis (sketch)

WARNINGS for this chapter: just the briefest mention of hypothetical molestation/sexual assault.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬ cicatrix masterlist | navigation | fiction masterlist