✩˚₊‧♡ Blackmail Material ♡‧₊˚✩

To all my rainbow 🌈 pals. Be gay and do crimes.

Happy pride month to my favs ever

Also hyperventilating… in French.

Themed nights at Sister Margaret's.

Read this if you like the following: great writing, literary allusions, sensational descriptions, meticulously, genius levels of art crafted with love, characters with trauma and incredible motivations, also smoking hot and toe-curling sex scenes. There is no better writer in the Rocket fandom- hands down.

꧁･:☁︎⋆. cicatrix .⋆☁︎:･꧂ masterlist

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 1/25 | wip | word count: pending.

a story about scars. inspired by mary shelley’s frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus. 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. 

enemies-to-lovers (as per frickin’ usual, only one of these idiots think they’re enemies, and tbh the enemy part is pretty short-lived.) while the beginning of this fic is dark (please check warnings for each chapter), we always get happy endings here. most chapters will contain super-smutty commentary at the very least. this fic is a longform expansion on wyndham; or, the galactic prometheus (day 31) of °˖✧♡kinktober 2023.

much like Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ , this fic is pure wish-fulfillment. i'd like a sexy space raccoon to rail me and then let me be stupid-sweet to him.

WARNINGS - please pay attention to all ao3 warnings/tags for every chapter.

if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

꧁･:☁︎⋆. all chapters collected behind the cut.

chapter one. nemotia. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ wyndham’s bride lands on counterearth just in time to prepare for her wedding. an unexpected guest arrives. ✩ [est 2/29] warnings: discussion of non-sexual child abuse and grooming. brief mentions of suicidal ideations. animal/pet death. canon-typical violence.

chapter two. ambedo. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ the monster makes his intentions known. wyndham’s bride proposes an addendum. ❤︎❤︎ [est 3/4] warnings: arguably one of the darkest chapters. things will get better before the chapter’s end. dubcon (wyndham’s bride is very into it but there’s definitely an argument for coercion here), lots of non-affectionate degradation and name-calling (slut, whore, etc), bad dom/sub dynamics, choking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, spanking, overstimulation. single, brief threat of mutilation. use of claws. continued references to non-sexual child abuse and grooming. animal/pet death. canon-typical violence.

chapter three. xeno. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ a daring escape. ❤︎ [est 3/7] warnings: references to the last chapter’s violence. big regrets. sexual fantasies. cutting (to remove a tracking device). some aftercare.

chapter four. anthrodynia. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ the monster regrets. ❤︎ [est 3/21] warnings: aftercare. references to chapter two’s violence. regret. sexual fantasies and general horniness.

chapter five. o'erpine. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂a conflict arises. a series of truths come out. ❤︎ [est 4/4] warnings: descriptions of leftover physical pain and references to some of the rough/hate-sex from chapter two, including pussy-slapping. discussion of non-sexual child abuse and controlling behaviors/manipulation. discussion of pet death and intentionally self-inflicted allergic reactions.

chapter six. lockhearted. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ ✩ [est 4/16] warnings:

chapter seven. starlorn. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ ✩ [est 4/30] warnings:

chapter eight. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ ❤︎❤︎ warnings:

chapter nine. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ ❤︎ warnings:

chapter ten. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ ❤︎❤︎ warnings:

chapter eleven. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ warnings:

chapter twelve. .⋆☁︎ :･꧂warnings:

some explicit statements or references ✩ abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

This is frightening and perfect. I love their expressions. Glorious! I am so blessed with your art.

Entanglement

“How? How do you know that? There was no time to read it-”

“Listen to me, none of that matters anymore. All that matters is you getting out of here.” Petra told Rocket, putting her hand on his shoulders. There was a loud thump on the cargo bay door, and both of them turned to check the monitoring cameras. Frack pounded at the door while Knot’s mouth opened in a wordless hiss.

Rocket drew in a breath of pain as Petra gripped his shoulders with punishing strength. “You have two choices. One, finish prepping the ship, and get out of here as soon as the locking mechanism is off, or, two, I knock you the fuck out. What’s it going to be?”

One of Petra’s hands was burning him with cold, and she shook him roughly. “Which is it Rocket? You don’t tell me right away, then I’ll choose for you.” There were strange harmonics snarling in Petra’s voice, her eyes were glowing uranium lanterns. He wanted to scream in terror at her expression, but he knew that if he started he’d never stop.

——Chapter 10 by @hibatasblog

not gonna lie, this reminds of some a story I once read about Peter. When his mind extended the span of galaxies under Ego’s influences. Pushing him mentally beyond the factors of human perspectives til the case of the root of his humanity is called back. His mother. But the side effects linger on as the scope of his consciousness is suddenly reduced back to the size of glass where it once had been an ocean.

For Petra it’s similar in my eyes. The celestial traits giving her mind’s eye a perspective beyond the ‘smaller frames’, this being Rocket. As long as he’s okay, the means are justified. soooooo….amazing chapter!!!! the picture scared the crap out of my friend so I’m calling it a win.

#rocketraccoon #peterquill #petraquill #Entanglement

Read this scorchingly hot, incredibly tender and beautiful chapter everyone. This author is the absolute best!

cicatrix.⋆☁︎:･꧂

chapter twenty-nine. amoransia. [NEW 4/16] ❤︎‬❤︎‬

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 29/40+ | wip | wordcount: pending. masterlist, notes, & moodboard | navigation chapter twenty-nine. amoransia. ❤︎‬❤︎‬ see warnings and art below. | NEW! rocket combs pearl's hair

nebula gives rocket advice. pearl picks up where she left off.

It’s so strange and unexpected — that as many friends as pearl seems to pick up, she still hasn’t turned away from him yet. She still comes to their shared bed in the captain’s quarters at night, and purrs for him when he pets her, and cuddles on him and squeezes him tight while she’s sleeping. She still insists on wearing his old band shirts, stretched tight across her stiff little nipples — doing nothing to hide the bounce of her tits, and the sweet curved underside of them that he can see when she stands above him. She still lets him cover her in his scent, like she doesn’t care if the whole frickin’ galaxy knows she belongs to him.

Not that he’s fucked her since Knowhere. Since before Knowhere, actually. If a person didn’t count his absolutely mangled handling of her sweetly-offered blowjob, then he hasn’t fucked her in nearly a cycle at this point. It’s probably some kind of crime, to be honest: having pearl all snuggly and warm and willing in his bed, and to not gently coax her into parting her thighs for his apologetic tongue.  The worst part is, he knows it’s got her worried. He’s tried to reassure her: keeping her squeezed nice and tight against him, caring for all her bruises and cuts — holding her hand till she falls asleep, just like before. It’s just that there’s this twist in his belly when he thinks about her, all soft-mouthed and licking at his dick — then the way he’d treated her after. The things he’d said. The memory of the half-lemniscate scar on her ass. His own ragged ugliness, brutal and blaring next to the soft silk of her body and her warm generosity. Plus, the fact that the f’saki has taken up a semi-permanent residency on the bed doesn’t help much.

read more on ao3 | cicatrix masterlist & notes see warnings and art below. little bit of sentimentality & worldbuilding, and then a lotta bit of smut.

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 ♡ | NEW! rocket combs pearl's hair

WARNINGS for this chapter: d/s dynamics, safeword discussion, blindfold, subspace, fellatio, come-eating, edging, overstim. praise. mild degradation (use of slut/whore, affectionate). dirty talk. brief mention of pussy-spanking, face-fucking. aftercare. little bit of relationship anxiety/post-abuse concerns from pearl.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬ masterlist, notes, & moodboard | navigation

banners & rose dividers by @/saradika-graphics | pearl dividers by @/thecutestgrotto | moodboard by me!

The systemic elimination of the Native American population did not end with Trail of Tears or the "Wild West." Post Colonialism is still Colonialism, and until one group of people stops devaluing other cultures as less than. I am haunted by the story my great uncle told me that he experienced as a child. He was a small boy during the Great Depression in Northern Georgia. One day he went into his barn and found an ancient, wizened man. He asked the man what he was doing in his families barn. The man told him that this was the spot he was born in, and this is the spot he was going to die in as well. My Great-Uncle went and got his father, and the old man's tale unraveled. The man's family and tribe were removed- forcibly and cruelly by the US government when gold was discovered in North Georgia. The man told them of his hardships and how he had searched for this place. My Great-Grandfather, invited him into the house to eat and stay, but the man wanted to stay in the barn. The family brought him food, and offered him company. He accepted the food, but wanted to be left alone. He died a few days later. Evil actions that took place 100, 200, 500 years before still resonate in the bones of an entire people. The fact that Georgia's Capital building is covered in gold makes me sick- disgusts me. I remember my school books glossing over the Trail of Tears and focusing on the Gold Rush. Some proud state history.

“Kill the Indian, save the Man.”

Native parents from around the world held their very young children’s hands as they walked them to boarding schools and residential schools. Some Native parents were forced to completely sign away their guardianship to principals of these “schools”, or face jail time. Others were visited by policemen, who forcibly seized their children from them. A few were undermined by “Indian Agents” on reservations, who withheld their rations on ration days. Some children never saw their parents again.

Boarding schools were built to “assimilate” the Native population into a white society, targeting their children. It had been assumed that conversion to Christianity and assimilation was “for the best interests” of Native and Indigenous people in Australia, the US, and Canada. The Native children were not allowed to practice skills relevant and appreciated to their cultures, such as carving. They were disallowed to speak in their native tongues, and were often physically, sexually, and psychologically tormented for doing so.

A five year old Native boy is raised by his family to know his hair as an extension of his soul, and that people only cut their hair if they experienced a loss of a loved one, a loss of a relationship, or a loss of oneself. As a stranger cuts off the little boy’s hair in order to better assimilate the child into the sex-based roles of a white male, the Native child is left quietly wondering who it is that has died, where his family went, and why the other children are being beaten for speaking to one another.

Only a small portion of each day was spent learning academically at these “schools”. Most of the day the children were exploited for their labor. How the labor was divided was based upon the Native child’s sex. Native girls were expected to do the domestic labor that was expected of white girls and women, such as cooking and cleaning, and Native boys were expected to perform manual labor, such as farm work, blacksmithing, and shoemaking.  The children would reach a point where they would be “phased out” of these boarding schools for a summer or year at a time and forced to perform labor for private white and wealthy families who did not want these jobs and duties themselves.

Many boarding schools and residential homes had an overwhelming death rate from Tuberculosis, which swept through these schools and homes. Tuberculosis kills it’s victim within ten days. Native children were forced to play and sleep alongside other Native children who had contracted tuberculosis so that they, too, would die. Boarding schools suffered a 50% or higher death rate because of this, effectively reducing the Native population in an attempt to eradicate them.

Maisie Shaw, age 14, was kicked down a flight of stairs by Alfred Caldwell, the principal of the residential school she was forced to stay in and killed.

 Other small skeletons of Native children have been found in church basements, which served as residential homes and boarding schools.

Other children were forced into prostitution rings.

Over fifty thousand children in Canada’s First Nations residential schools were beaten, raped, suffered from electrocutions and electroshock therapy, were forcibly sterilized, often medically experimented on, starved, and murdered. 

It wasn’t until 1978 in the US that Native parents won the rights to deny sending their children to boarding schools. This wasn’t that long ago. In 1978, my mother was 21 years old. 

In Australia, the residential homes lasted until 1984.

In Canada, the last residential home was closed in 1996. 

I’ve been seeing a lot of anti-Nazi ones, which is great, but I felt like we needed one to show our support for the Jewish community.  

Yep. Run, girls, run!

Rocket: [After another one of Quill’s flirting attempts] Hear that? It's the sound of girls all over the galaxy running and rushing, just desperate to… lock their doors.

Ahhhhhh! Groot!

hailbound. .⋆☁︎:･꧂

[anticipated 5/24]

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 10/25+ | wip | wordcount: pending.

pearl adopts a stray. rocket falls for a sovereign. warnings below.

When they’d parted ways, he’d tucked a comm in the pocket of her leggings — warm fingers tugging at her pants in a way that had made her skin sing — and had told her to use it if she ran into any trouble, and not to talk to strangers, as if she were a child. She’d glowered at that — glowered, an expression she’s sure hasn’t made in years — and it had startled her to feel it.  Rocket had only grinned tauntingly, but then followed the smirk with an, “I’m frickin’ serious, doll,” before loping away in the other direction.  And now here she is, with two soft stretchy pairs of shorts rolled up and gripped in one fist and a bottle of morningtea palmed in the other, pausing at every painted cupboard door inlaid in the quartz-streaked rockface walling the city streets. She’d noticed the cupboards the other day, and she had been curious, but all that curiosity had been forgotten in the blissful chaos of the clothes and the food and the hair.  Now that she has a chance to study them, she marvels. The few cupboards that are open this early in the morning reveal small stadiums of fifty or sixty clear-glass and tin-smithed cups, each cradling a votive as blue as a pale spring sky on Terra. Anywhere between five and ten candles are lit in any given cupboard, and little tin plaques are anchored into the rock walls beneath the cupboards, etched with the tactile written language of Cyxlore as well as Kree, Shi’ar, and Skrull translations.  SHRINE OF THE SYBILA NIX ORA Pearl tilts her head, shuffling through the glossary in her head, trying to find the name — but she comes up empty. Herbert hadn’t cared much for planets like this one: no real political or cultural merit, he’d usually sniff dismissively. She tries to interpret the little shrine, and a shadow moves across the space, making the delicate flames seem brighter. “I am Groot.”

from chapter eleven. hailbound. ✩ cicatrix masterlist.⋆☁︎:･꧂

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.

WARNINGS for this chapter: still just rocket's anxiety.

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