#sigh. anyway. if no one else wants to talk about fucked up old norse gender roles then i guess i'll have to do it.
Text
only got two chapters into wml before giving up for the night so i might have to eat these words but. from what i've read. it seems like they're mostly decoupling asgardian magic stigma from gender? and in an ~explicitly queer~ loki book that is not just cowardly but also really really odd. why would you do that??? it's free gender!!
#space viking tag#yeah i know it's m*ckenzi lee but all authors get theythemmed when i'm being abstract#like i'm not talking to you i'm talking to the pages in front of me... and theres more than one of them.....#sigh. anyway. if no one else wants to talk about fucked up old norse gender roles then i guess i'll have to do it.#i still have a 70% drafted weird little fic in my archives. this is a threat#constructive complaining#s: other marvel#th: sorcery#th: ergi#th: gender + sexuality
0 notes
Text
stay
Rocket Raccoon x Gender-Neutral Reader
Requested by: @b-oys-do-c-ry
Summary: after the events of endgame, you’ve tried to settle back into life with the guardians, but feel the need to return home to your family and help them adjust to the new reality. rocket catches you packing.
Characters: rocket raccoon, reader, mentions of other guardians
Warnings: the relationship is understandably platonic. only warning is for mild adult language and angst
Word Count: 2,380
MARVEL MASTERLIST or CHECK OUT MY FANFIC DEDICATED BLOG
One of the side effects of living with five other ‘people’ on a ship with only three bunks – one of which was actually a converted storage space – was that you didn’t have a lot of space to call your own. Sharing a room with Drax, Mantis and Nebula meant that you really only kept the essentials, along with a few sentimental knick-knacks you’d picked up both back on Terra and in ports across the galaxy. On the bright side, that meant that the phrase ‘packing a bag’ could be taken quite literally. Almost everything you owned fit in a single duffel bag.
“What’re you doin’?”
You jumped slightly as a voice sounded behind you, a mix of confusion and amusement coloring his tone. Turning from the bag on your bunk, you offered an awkward shrug of one shoulder to Rocket. He was standing in the doorway, arms folded over his chest and an eyebrow cocked.
It was amazing that after everything that happened with Thanos, you’d been brought back into existence and Rocket still seemed for the most part, the same gruff, smart-mouthed guy you’d bonded with when you’d first joined the crew. There were a few greyer hairs around his muzzle now, and sometimes he seemed more tired than anything else, but otherwise, he just seemed happy to have you all back.
“Nothing. What’s up?”
“You’re missin’ dinner.”
“And you came all the way to the other end of the ship to tell me that?” you joked, mirroring his posture. You smirked jovially down at him. “I’m touched, man.”
“Shut ya mouth,” he groused back at you despite the beginnings of a smirk of his own on his face. You laughed despite your unease at being caught out, shaking your head. “Groot’s fussin’ about you not bein’ there.”
“Sure, he is,” you replied snidely, smile widening. It was unlikely that Groot had even raised his head from his game long enough to realize you weren’t there. “That’s why he’s here bugging me instead of you.”
“Watch it, humie. You can’t be butt ugly and friendless.”
“Ah, there’s the Rocket I know and love.” you teased. “And please, you know I’m gorgeous.”
He snickered, nodding almost absentmindedly. “Yeah, yeah. Ego like that and you’ll be putting Quill to shame in no time.”
“Oh, shudder the thought.” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. You turned back to your bed, speaking over your shoulder. “Don’t worry yourself, Rock. I promise, you’ll never see me getting into a pissing contest with a Norse God.”
“Because you’re leavin’?”
You stopped, hands hovering over your bag. You closed your eyes for a moment, exhaling a long sigh through your nose. You had tried so hard to do this quietly.
The last thing you wanted was the crew fussing over your decision or trying to get you to change your mind. You didn’t get a lot of privacy or time alone between ports, but you’d figured that the notion of a hot meal would be enticing enough to the rest of the crew to grant you at least twenty minutes in which to pack your bag. You’d barely made it more than five.
You’d told Quill. Two weeks ago, you’d found him alone, pouring over the screens that held the scans he hoped would lead you to Gamora. The new Gamora… an old Gamora. The Gamora that didn’t know you yet. It had taken him a while to comprehend what you were saying, to pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to understand. He’d tried to convince you to stay, tried to tell you what he thought you needed to hear, but he’d finally agreed all the same. You were to get off in a couple of days when you were Terra-side again. He’d agreed not to tell the others – it was your business to share.
Honestly, part of you was sure it would have been anyone but the anti-social Rocket to come looking for you… but maybe another part of you wasn’t so surprised by it at all. He’d been more attentive since the second snap, more concerned. Of course, he’d shake you off with an insult and a scoff if you pointed that out.
“Damn it,” you breathed quietly, turning around and fixing him with your best attempt at incredulity. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re packin’ a bag, Y/N.” he said pointedly, nodding his head toward the bed behind you.
“Maybe I’m just… reorganizing.”
“Into a bag.”
“It’s a… system. Keeps everything in one, easy to access place.”
“So does your locker,” he pointed out, gesturing under your bed.
“Well, only if you want to get all… logical about it,” you admitted in a childish grumble. When his only response was to lean against the edge of the doorway and give you an exasperated look, you sighed, running a hand through your hair. You sat on the edge of your bunk, shoving your bag to the end of it. “How many of you did Quill tell?”
Rocket’s expression turned offense. “So, you are leavin’.”
“Ah, shit.”
“And you told Quill, but not—not the rest of us?”
“I, uh… well, yeah?” you tried for a humored smile. It curled the side of your lips awkwardly. This whole conversation was making you way too uncomfortable. You didn’t do emotional confrontation. A gunfight on some random planet all in the name of the adventures of the Guardians of the Galaxy, sure. But talking about your feelings? There was a reason you got along so well with every other emotionally constipated crew member on this damn ship. “I needed him to steer the ship in the right direction. Did you think we were going back to Terra because we’re already out of mac and cheese?”
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growled, clearly unamused by your attempt at humor. “You’re leavin’ and you weren’t even gonna tell us?”
“Of course, I was!” you protested. “Just… figured I’d wait.”
“’til when exactly?”
“…until it was time to get back on the ship?” you said, almost hopefully. Rocket rolled his eyes disparagingly, fixing you with a long look. The cold disappointment… the betrayal… in his eyes made your blood freeze, and he shook his head as he turned away. You called after him as he left. “Rocket. Rocket, c’mon, man—I just…”
You fell back onto your bed with a huff, staring at your ceiling. “Goddamn it.”
***
Two days. It had been a bit over forty-eight hours and Rocket still wasn’t talking to you. Sure, he wasn’t the most sociable guy on the ship to begin with, but this was different. This was cold.
The two of you usually exchanged good-natured, sarcastic barbs as easy as breathing, only to round on whoever told you to shut up first together. It was fun, easy, and something you never really thought about – your friendship with Rocket was always something you didn’t really have to think about – it was reactionary. So, to be thinking about it now… you’d been completely lost at what to do for the last two days.
He didn’t talk to you, and when he absolutely had to, it was curt. The sarcasm he still flung your way under his breath didn’t hold the same humor. More than once, Quill and Mantis had cast you questioning glance at the change in his attitude towards you, but all you could do was shrug. You weren’t even completely sure as to why he was acting this way; you were friends, sure, but it was Rocket. He wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type.
“Hey, Rock.”
He didn’t react to your entrance other than a small flick of his ear in your direction. He was on the late shift piloting the ship back to Terra, and you’d spent the last four hours staring at the ceiling of your bunk, sleep unwilling to take you. So, you dragged yourself out of bed, pulled on a jacket and your boots against the cold of the ship, and headed for the cockpit. You hadn’t had a chance to talk to him without interruption he left the room whenever someone else entered.
“Are you really giving me the silent treatment here, man?” you asked after a few moments, exasperated. You moved to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, pulling your jacket more tightly around yourself. “C’mon, Rocket. Seriously.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the sky. “I’m busy, Y/N.”
You followed his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I’d hate to distract you from this completely empty expanse of space we’re travelling through right now.”
He sighed at your sarcasm, giving you a sidelong, exasperated look of his own. “What’re you doin’ here, Y/N?”
“Right now?” you replied. “Right now, I’m just amazed you’ve managed to string more than two words together in my presence.”
“Just…” he paused, shaking his head as he searched for the words. You felt your stomach twist at the seeming uncertainty you could see in him; this was different. Rocket didn’t consider what he said; no, he’d just shoot back with whatever first came to mind, consequences be damned. For all his faults, he always seemed so certain of what he meant when he spoke, even if it was just a quick insult or a jibe. This wasn’t that. “Just… what do you want?”
“I want you to talk to me, Rocket.” you said. “Like before.”
“Why bother?” he shrugged, his voice gruff. He was back to refusing to look at you. “You ain’t gonna be around much longer, anyway.”
You sighed, fixing your eyes on the wide, black emptiness in front of you. That view used to excite you, a promise of adventure. Ever since the snap, it just felt… cold. “Look, I… I gotta go home, Rocket. They need me there. Everyone being back… it’s more complicated than we thought it would be. But… but me leaving, it’s not a big deal.”
“Sure, it’s not.”
“Dude,” you bristled at his tone despite yourself. “Why are you being like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re pissed at me!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in annoyance. You stuttered over your words for a moment, lost, before standing and shrugging dramatically. “Look, just forget about it, Rocket. I don’t know why I bothered coming up here in the first place; why the hell would I ever expect you to actually fucking talk to me instead of just being a complete dick about this.”
It wasn’t until you were stepping back onto the ladder to leave that he spoke again, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. He was still sitting in the pilot’s chair, his eyes still on the stars. “Don’t.”
You stopped short, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t…” he exhaled slowly, a steadying breath. “Don’t go.”
Your brow creased, and you moved slowly back towards his seat until you could see his face again. He looked embarrassed at speaking up, his ears drooping back. In fact, you were almost certain that under all that fur there could be a blush burning in his cheeks.
“Why not?”
“Be… because… ah, fuck…” he muttered to himself, a paw rubbing almost nervously at the fur on the side of his neck. “Because we… we need you here.”
“You… no, you don’t.”
Rocket finally turned to look at you, incredulity in his eyes. “We don’t? What about Groot?”
You paused, pressing your lips together as your stomach dropped. You loved the plant, you’d helped to raise him, and leaving him behind was one of the hardest things you were facing right now. Leaving any one member of the crew behind was going to be hard, but Groot… he was still a kid. “He’ll… he’ll be fine. He’s got all of you here, and he probably… he probably won’t even realize that I’m gone.”
Rocket raised an eyebrow at you. “Really? You think he’s an idiot?”
“No! I think he’d have to get his head out of that goddamn gaming device for more than thirty seconds to realize I wasn’t around?” you shot back in frustration. “Is that what this is about? You think you’ll have to look after him by yourself if I’m not around? Are you seriously pissed at me because you’re losing a babysitter?!”
“I’m pissed because you’re leaving me!” he shouted, the intensity in his voice surprising the both of you. He seemed to realize he’d admitted something he hadn’t intended a few moments too late, and he rolled his eyes at himself, tugging irritably at the fur at either side of his neck.
“…Rocket?”
He growled in frustration, rubbing his paws over his eyes. When he finally spoke again, he sounded tired… weary. “Just… you have no idea. You have no idea what is was like… all of you were gone. Gone, and I was…”
He broke off with a long exhalation and a slow shake of his head, his eyes closed. When you spoke for him, you could barely bring your voice above a whisper. “Alone.”
Rocket’s breathing shook slightly, the only sound in the ship’s quiet cockpit. You moved to kneel beside his chair, your gaze beseeching. You almost reached out to touch him but thought better of it. Honestly, you weren’t sure anymore if that was still a trigger for him.
“Rocket, you’re not alone anymore. We’re all back. Just because I’m gone doesn’t mean the others will be too. You’ll still have Groot and Quill and Nebula… everyone else will still be here. You’re not going to be alone; is that what this is all about?”
He sighed, opening his eyes. “It don’t matter. You go, that’s one more time, one more person I’ve got to mourn. And I don’t think I’ve got it in me to do it again.”
“Rock…” you murmured. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and you could see them in his. You steadied yourself, wetting your lips. “I need to go home.”
He turned to face you, his jaw set. “Then don’t stay.”
“What?”
“Come back. Don’t stay on Terra.”
“I don’t…”
“Please.”
You stopped short; you didn’t think that in all the time you’d ever heard Rocket say ‘please’.
And that was, suddenly, all that it took.
“Okay.”
.
.
.
tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @spacesuitsforemergency @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @dragon-chica
#rocket raccoon#rocket raccoon x reader#rocket raccoon x you#rocket raccoon & reader#rocket raccoon & you#rocket raccoon imagine#rocket raccoon fanfiction#rocket raccoon fanfic#rocket raccoon reader insert#marvel fanfiction#marvel reader insert#marvel fanfic#marvel imagine#mcu imagine#mcu fanfic#mcu fanfiction#mcu reader insert
86 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
chistes-cortos
chistes cortos
chichamiranda17
Sonriendo & viviendo
castironlyrics
ART AND LYRICS
ilsupremomacchinista
Il Supremo Macchinista
irvdaphenom
IRV DA PHENOM The D.M.G. Rebel.