🤎 Independent Portrayal 🤎 PFP by @Beau
Joined May 2023
- Tweets 334
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38 Photos and videos
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29 Sep 2025
You wonder if you've truly felt this?
Faced the hand you're dealt with?
Left and lost to quell this anger,
You feel that fortune simply finds you…
Guessing you at least knew.
Soon you'll see the hard clues!
🤎 Personal Portrayal 🤎
🤎 Gay Ship (NSFW DMs) 🤎
🤎 #Nine 🤎
ALT Art: @Beau
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RT @SpiritedRobot: 𝒀𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑰'𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑰𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑵𝑻
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“You can at least care to share, y’know.”
that's a secret.
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“…meaning what, exactly?”
so, let us say it like that.
out of every planet in ever universe, this one here is the most brave one.
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🤎Starter for @SILENTDARKNlGHT 🤎
Rocket adjusted the strap of his heavy blaster, his boots crunching on the wet, trash-strewn pavement of an alleyway that stank of rain and old cabbage. He spat to the side, his whiskers twitching in irritation.
He hated magic, he hated ->
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-> in the wrong hands.
A sudden, unnatural fog began to roll down the alleyway, thick and smelling faintly of bitter almonds and rot. The streetlights overhead flickered, then died, plunging the narrow passage into darkness. From the shadows ahead, a low, distorted scraping ->
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-> sound echoed that could be compared to rusty scythes dragging across concrete.
Rocket didn't flinch. Instead, a grim, toothy smirk spread across his furry face. He unlatched the blaster from his back, the weapon humming to life with a comforting, lethal glow.
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if he accepted the math, the universe became a place where things that were broken stayed broken. And Rocket Raccoon was a creature built entirely on the premise that anything could be fixed if you had enough scrap and a big enough gun.
"You're just topside..."
He ->
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-> down.
"Goodnight, Lylla..."
The raccoon softly whispers to the closed door, his voice barely sounding in his throat. Leaning his forehead against the cold metal of the bulkhead, closing his eyes tight against the burn behind ->
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-> them.
"I fixed the coupler. It’s perfect. We're gonna make the jump tomorrow. Don't oversleep."
He stood there for a long time, the silence of the ship wrapping around him like a shroud, holding onto the lie as if it was all that kept him moving.
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