Beautiful And Sweet.

Beautiful and sweet.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip. part one. prepare for departure.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist previous part | next part [est may 21] | main masterlist

angst, comfort, friendship, & fluff for @hibatasblog rocket & wanda | part 1/6 | word count: 1371.

rocket gets a very-important mission from danvers and needs a partner to go with him. enter the witch.

It is a well-documented fact (I know you know) that in the comic books, many of the marvel ladies have a thing for Rocket Raccoon. How could they not? Eyes like red beryls and pyropes, teeth and wit both so sharp they can kill long before the perfectly-aimed gravity-blast. Intuition off the charts, not to mention the things they've heard he can do with that tail...

Alas, this is not the comics. This is the MCU, some time between 2018 and 2023.

And while everything else remains more or less the same, Wanda Maximoff was not turned into ash.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Rocket says, rolling his eyes.

Wanda isn’t sure what to call him. He looks like a raccoon, but insists that he isn’t one. Maybe he’s an alien. Maybe he’s something else. Either way, he’s rolling his eyes at Natasha, so hard that his whole head rolls with them.

“Look, I got a very important mission from Danvers, and Nebs is busy right now, working with Kraglin to make Knowhere a more hospitablistic place for Snap refugees. D’you wanna fuck over a bunch of Snap refugees, Nat?”

He crosses his arms and raises a brow up at the new leader-apparent of the Avengers. If Wanda hadn’t felt so — nothing at all, actually — she might have let a smirk curl the corner of her mouth. He’s kind of a brat, and he knows how to get under peoples’ skin. When she’d been a child, she would have found that entertaining. Endearing. She supposes she’d used to have a soft spot for scrappy survivors. Then she’d had to stop having a soft spot for anything but her brother.

Then —

“Goddammit, Rocket. Go to Washington, then. I don’t care. But we still need the Benatar.”

His challenging look turns into a glower. “Fuck off, Nat. What am I supposed to do, then? Drive your frickin’ car?”

Natasha flaps a hand at him distractedly from behind her desk. “Yes, that’s fine, take the car—”

The look he gives her is withering. “I can’t reach the fuckin’ pedals, Nat. So unless you’re giving me permission to take the whole inefficient machine apart an’ put it back together to suit my needs, you’re gonna have to—”

“I can’t spare anyone, Rocket,” the Russian snaps.

“And I can’t be alone right now,” he snaps right back. Wanda’s eyes flick back and forth between them.

Natasha grits her teeth. “You said this was a mission from Carol?”

“Yes,” he hisses, tapping one booted foot impatiently.

She closes her eyes and sighs heavily, leaning back in her chair and pressing her fingers into her temples. “Fine,” she says at last, drawing the word out — petulantly, Wanda thinks from a great distance. “Find someone who’s willing to go with you and I’ll tell you if I can spare them.”

Rocket doesn’t hesitate. Without moving anything but his arm, he’s brandishing a single dark claw in Wanda’s direction.

“I’ll take the witch.”

Five years earlier — in the first days after the Snap, before they’d left all their hope on 0259-S with Thanos’ headless body — everyone else had belonged to somebody. Cap and Nat had each other, and Nat had Banner and the arrow-guy. Rhodey had the rich guy who thought he was a genius, and the rich guy had that other redhead. Thor had maybe lost the most, but he had Banner too, and his buddies from Sakaar. The Dora Milaje had their whole sisterhood. Only Danvers might have been on her own — but as far as Rocket had been able to tell, Captain Marvel hadn’t seemed to have a lotta close ties she was mourning.

But Rocket — Rocket had nobody.

Again.

Nobody except Gamora’s sister, whose name he’d kept forgetting.

Of course, there was the witch.

Disproportionate number of redheads on this planet, he remembers thinking bemusedly.

He hadn’t been able to remember her name for a while either, but unlike everyone else on Terra, she’d seemed almost as alone as he was. And he hadn’t been able to help but watch her, his eyes slanting sideways to stare at her as she’d sat by herself across the room, hands anchored around upper arms. He couldn't make out the color of her eyes — they’d seemed impossibly dark, with rage or grief or something else, something haunted.

Except for when they’d smouldered like furious banked fires.

She’d never said a frickin’ word, either: face blank and beautiful as a statue’s. Her silence had felt more surreal than any other stupid thing he’d encountered in space, which he supposed was probably just because he’s spent the last four years with a family of weirdos who’d never seemed able to shut the fuck up.

Still. He’d tilted his head when the other avengers had walked past her — watched as they’d seemed almost to forget she was even there. They’d barely talked to her, and once, when they’d been ordering lunch, they’d missed her entirely.

Uh — you didn’t ask the witch what she wants, Rocket had said to Nat awkwardly, and the assassin had blinked and her eyes had hunted the whole room before they’d finally focused on the other woman — like she hadn’t even known where her fellow-Avenger was.

No. The witch had been an outcast. And Rocket has always known something about outcasts. His whole frickin’ family — both, some small part of his brain had tried to speak up before he could smother it; both families were made of the unwanted — his whole frickin’ family had been outcasts and misfits. It had made some part of Rocket’s heart suddenly stretch in his chest. It had reached with grasping fingers, trying to hang onto something he’d already known he’d lost.

Family.

The next day, Rocket had cleared his throat and told Gamora’s sister that he was gonna go starside to touch base with Kraglin on the Third Quadrant — to see if he still exists, he hadn’t said, but he’d been pretty sure the cyborg had picked it up.

“You wanna come, Blue?” he’d asked — wincing when his nonchalance had been too thin to be believable. But the Luphomoid had inclined her head, eyes dark and steady. When that had been squared away — surprisingly a hell of a lot easier than he’d thought — he’d shuffled to his feet, and headed to the bench outside the compound, where the witch had been sitting since sunrise.

He’d stood in her line of vision and stared at the sky too, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, tail trying to tuck itself underneath him. It had probably been a full twenty minutes before he’d felt her eyes on him.

“I. Uh. I heard you lost your robot-boyfriend.” The words had been as clumsy as an orloni drunk on fermented Asgardian figs, but he’d been trying.

The witch’s eyes had flared, crimson-bright. “Robot?” she’d repeated dangerously.

Rocket’s ears had flicked back and he’d taken a step away, into the grass: hands extended, palms out.

“Hey, m’not trying to be a dick,” he’d protested. “I think I might be part-robot myself.” He’d stabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the Benatar, where he could feel his new blue companion staring holes in his back. “Gamora’s sister’s almost all-robot, too.”

He could also feel the sister in question rolling her eyes.

“M’just saying,” he’d muttered at both of them, hunching his shoulders and half-turning to kick a patch of grass. “Some of us are solo now.” He’d gestured at the cyborg again. “Might be good to stick together.”

“I was used to being solo,” Nebs had pointed out, and Rocket had winced. “You’re the one who got attached.”

His ears had flattened. “Whatever,” he’d growled. “Just thought — whatever.” He’d spun again, kicking more grass, and muttered bitterly under his breath. “So much for trying to be the captain. So much for trying to look out for the damn strays.”

“You’re the stray,” Nebula had replied with a mutinous jut of her chin — and how the fuck had she heard him? That wasn’t standard Luphomoid hearing range.

Rocket had cursed whatever aural implants Thanos had given her.

Then the witch had made a strange sound behind him — a little huff of breath. A disbelieving, agonized little shred of laughter.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist previous part | next part [est may 21] | main masterlist

During a watch party for Avengers: Endgame on Twitter, Markus revealed the idea to team Wanda with the Guardian of the Galaxy captain actually made it into several versions of the film's script. "We had whole drafts with Wanda on a road trip with Rocket," Markus wrote, "but after the Vision plot in Infinity War, nothing we came up with was anything but wheel spinning for her character." CBR

Rocket Secretly Likes Being Petted II

The next time Nebula found Rocket; he was on one of the couches in the Milano Commons--sitting on Peter Quill's lap as the human petted him with gentle hands.

"Is... is he...?" Nebula asked.

"Yeah," Quill answered. "He... he's sorta here, but... not?"

Nebula nodded, having talked to Rocket before about the timer-code that took 'him' semi-offline so he could experience what it was like to be petted - or experience gentle touch altogether - without the baggage of his memories and thoughts getting in the way.

With eyes closed, and body leaning back into the human's chest, the little raccoon was purring wildly - so hard that his body was vibrating - as Peter went over his headfur, scratched him behind the ears, and then moved to stroke and scratch under his chin!

Nebula tried to approach quietly so as not to disturb them--but Rocket heard her anyway and to her shock, his eyes opened and he issued a sort of noise from his throat, some sort of trilling raccoon-call, as if to beckon her over. Deep within the hardened core of Nebula, a small, unaltered Luphomoid Girl-spirit started banging around, jumping up and down.

"Aww..." the Luphomoid Cyborg murmured. No sooner had she sat down on the couch next to Peter, then Rocket was slowly moving back and forth between them, wanting pets from both. Nebula giggled and then she and Quill did so, laughing as Rocket nuzzle-nuzzle-nuzzled and lick-licked his friends.

"Damn... we could so use him to run the Milano--I mean, listen to the sound of that engine he's got!" Quill said a while later, making poor Nebula quietly laugh so hard she nearly choked! "I didn't know raccoons could purr like that!"

Rocket was on Peter's lap again when it happened. Gradually, his purrs faded--only so he could open his mouth and yawn hugely. Then, the little raccoon blinked, closed his eyes, inhaled a slow, deep, breath through his nose and finally exhaled slowly through his mouth. "Rocket? Hey, buddy, you back with us?"

When Rocket nodded, Quill continued, "Can you say something, so we know you're with us, pal?"

Now the raccoon's eyes went misty. "Almost don't wanna," he replied, his words soft and quiet. "Don't wanna make it weird or ruin it. Jus'..." his breath hitched in a sob, "jus' let me have this, Quill, jus'..." As Peter slowly wrapped his arms about Rocket - as the awful and demeaning thoughts and memories started to creep in, telling him he was a man, that this was degrading - poor Rocket suppressed a snarl and ruthlessly crushed it all down, inhaling Quill's scent...

... not realizing that - by allowing the base raccoon to surface - the timer had allowed Rocket to do something he should have, long ago. Imprint-on-Parent. Base-raccoon-Rocket and Cybernetic-AI-Rocket connected and reached an understanding: Peter Quill was now new PARENT/SIRE/ADMIN.

... and then Rocket blinked, and slowly turned to look at Peter Quill in awe, with tear-filled eyes. Peter Quill, his new Father. Peter Quill, the most wonderful person in the world.

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hibatasblog

10 months ago

A little linguistics, a little flirting, so why is my heart hurting?

cicatrix .⋆☁︎:･꧂

chapter fifteen. soufrise. [new 6/28] ❤︎

pearl teaches rocket to speak groot. see below for warnings & notes.

“I am Groot,” Groot says to her as he sits on the flightdeck floor, just a few feet from where she’s perched in her chair. He’s enchanted by Rocket’s sludgy coffee, stirring his mugful with one thick barkish finger, and then popping the digit in his mouth. “He’s usually awake first,” she admits, eyes sliding over to the bunk she’d crawled out of a half-hour ago. It’s the first time she’s woken before Rocket — not counting the night she’d sneaked down to the nook behind the bulwark while he’d been sleeping. He’s usually so attuned to his surroundings that he jolts awake as soon as she stirs. “I am Groot?” She flashes a glance over at her Taluhnisan friend just in time to see the faint mischief in his otherwise-soulful eyes. Her cheeks flush hot. “I didn’t know Taluhnisans had such good hearing,” she says, trying to sound as peevish as Rocket does — but she’s sure the words just come out vaguely wilted instead.

read more on ao3 | masterlist, notes, & moodboard

not my favorite chapter, so i hope it held your interest. thank you for bearing with me! especially since this is such a long trek. i'm really happy with how the next three are turning out though, so hopefully they make up for this one. you deserve the best.

WARNINGS for this chapter: would it even be a rocket fanfic without a lil post-orgasm angst?

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.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

6 notes View Post

hibatasblog

8 months ago

Absolutely his look.

Rocket Raccoon in this and his dad glasses

97 notes View Post

hibatasblog

4 months ago

Me and Rocket having all the things in common.

for those of you who are fans of eidos-rocket, here's a little collection of everything i've written for him! ...so far, anyway.

here are some things to expect!

all fics are COMPLETE unless otherwise noted!

more detail about what you can expect from my fiction

typically, platonic & spicy stories will feature a gn reader (no use of y/n). smutty stories are more likely to feature a "female" reader or oc.

i hope you enjoy these fics featuring our favorite bearded "you slept with a cop?" guy!

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬

full fiction~

bookshop at the end of the universe. ❤︎‬ 18+ only MDNI | f!reader | word count: 9,157. rocket wants out — of the rain, and everything else. eidos-game vibes. mild smut. for nonnie. see post for warnings & context | autumn comfort collection.

the holiday gun show. ❤︎‬ 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | oneshot | word count: 17,781. rocket has his own holiday traditions: doin' community service and generally bein' an upstanding pillar of his favorite local community, of course. what the flark were you thinking? friends-to-lovers, loosely eidos-inspired. see post for warnings. | borealis: year two

practice ✩ low-grade spice | gn reader | word count: 1,684. you're not quite as good as rocket when it comes to braiding. luckily, he's a kind and benevolent soul who just wants to give you the chance to improve. see post for warnings | anthology ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆