Lost and Found
Prompt: Lost and Found
Fandom: Arcane, BMFM, GOTG
Warnings: None, headcanons, possible bad grammar
Word count: 502, for Comforcember @monthlywritingchallenges
Sometimes we all feel kinda lost. And not only in geographical sense. When life does not seem to improve and the existence itself becomes dreading, we sometimes encounter people that become our personal stars of flickering hope in the disconsolate ocean of darkness. And we just might find something new.
Rocket Raccoon
Rocket was always the one to take. Legally or not, did not really matter. He believed it was right, after all the universe already took so much FROM him that there was no chance he will give something away freealingly. Even now with his new family of misfits surprisingly efficient in universe-saving business, he won't do a damn thing without a tempting award.
Yet here he is now.Tinkering away at the middle of the sleep cycle on your gear when you did not even ask. "Well, why would I if you are always protecting me?" you said smiling at him with this stupid little smile and stupid little dimples. The same ones that his raking paw are twitching to soothingly pet when you come face to face with him.
Steb
Cynical approach. Sure he was a medic, an enforcer too of course, but a medic nonetheless. It is possible that in the beginning he was blindly following the colourful sweet dreams of changing the world for the better, making a drastic difference. To heal. But the more time he spend within enforcers ranks, the more he saw the real picture. The unfairness, the cruelty. Sometimes directed at him, most of the times at zaunites. Sometimes it felt like an ice-cold shower of sobriety, others - like a slap leaving a mark somewhere deep inside. Made him tougher, less prone to get hurt but also felt like losing a part of himself.
But with you and those big dreams that you shared only with him! Your desire and inability to give up! You believe that the world is big enough for all of you! It became something that he cherishes and carries with him in the heart pocket of the tight uniform, giving him strength to fight for what is actually right and not betray himself in the process.
Stoker
He was fighting for as long as he could remember. And it felt like a personal torture - to loose people around him and not being able to get even a jot closer to winning. Like those dirty swines in power will never see further than their pockets filled with bloodied plutarkians money. He is burning out.
But as his gaze lands on your face over the campfire, so used to the same hardships yet still extending the gentle touch to any who asks or needs it, he is determined to finish what the resistance started, to see it to the very end, to fight tooth and nail to bring freedom to Mars, to you. And maybe, if he is lucky, the fate will let him do it side by side with you.
