[ Peter slams gracelessly into the tree, his guns falling from his grip as he lands on the jungle floor. He bites back a groan as he shoves himself up onto all fours, shaking his head to clear out the stars. Good thing he was wearing his helmet: it took the brunt of the hit.
Let that be a lesson to you kids at home.
But the Bulette is barreling toward him, and his sluggish limbs are being really unruly now, as he tries to move out of its way. Soon enough, the kid is standing in its path, is stopping it in some insane display of strength—
Peter's seen that before, too. Shooting out webbing, yanking on Thanos' arm to keep him in place—
No. No. Okay. Flashbacks are— they're not welcome right now. (They're not welcome ever.) And Peter has to shake himself again, using the tree to support himself as he stands. His guns are too far away, and normally he'd just dive for at least one of them. But that's not really an option when the creature is right fucking there, when the kid is clearly struggling to keep it in check.
Before Peter left Riverview, the portal had vomited out some weird shit on him. He had honed it, at least a little, while he and Gamora were here, and he had lost it when he went home. It's back now, and he had tentatively tested it in the few days since his return.
It works best when he's angry. And god, is Peter angry.
So Peter slams on the triggers for his jets again, leaps high into the air to get up and over the creature's head while the kid is keeping him in place. He rears back a fist, blue flame enveloping his hand, and he plummets downward in a burst of blue fire, like something out of a comic book.
He drives his fist into that soft spot, feels flesh burst and give beneath his knuckles, feels bone snap and break. The creature stumbles back, screeching in pain, and Peter drives his flame-wreathed fist into that weak spot two more times to the harmonious sounds of squelching and cracking.
It reels and screams and staggers, and Peter holds on to an armored plate like he's on some fucked up bull ride. It seems to take forever for the thing to finally still, for it to finally collapse under its own weight and let out a few rattling breaths, but it does, at last. ]
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Let that be a lesson to you kids at home.
But the Bulette is barreling toward him, and his sluggish limbs are being really unruly now, as he tries to move out of its way. Soon enough, the kid is standing in its path, is stopping it in some insane display of strength—
Peter's seen that before, too. Shooting out webbing, yanking on Thanos' arm to keep him in place—
No. No. Okay. Flashbacks are— they're not welcome right now. (They're not welcome ever.) And Peter has to shake himself again, using the tree to support himself as he stands. His guns are too far away, and normally he'd just dive for at least one of them. But that's not really an option when the creature is right fucking there, when the kid is clearly struggling to keep it in check.
Before Peter left Riverview, the portal had vomited out some weird shit on him. He had honed it, at least a little, while he and Gamora were here, and he had lost it when he went home. It's back now, and he had tentatively tested it in the few days since his return.
It works best when he's angry. And god, is Peter angry.
So Peter slams on the triggers for his jets again, leaps high into the air to get up and over the creature's head while the kid is keeping him in place. He rears back a fist, blue flame enveloping his hand, and he plummets downward in a burst of blue fire, like something out of a comic book.
He drives his fist into that soft spot, feels flesh burst and give beneath his knuckles, feels bone snap and break. The creature stumbles back, screeching in pain, and Peter drives his flame-wreathed fist into that weak spot two more times to the harmonious sounds of squelching and cracking.
It reels and screams and staggers, and Peter holds on to an armored plate like he's on some fucked up bull ride. It seems to take forever for the thing to finally still, for it to finally collapse under its own weight and let out a few rattling breaths, but it does, at last. ]