AniRoleplay.com

feel free to combine multiple prompts or add  “ + reverse ”  to switch roles !   for reference, the one sending in the prompt is the one committing the action. 1.  GUEST :  for one muse to offer the other a place to stay. 2.  STORM :  for both muses to find shelter from a severe storm. 3.  MEDIC :  for one muse to show up at the other’s doorstep injured.4.  SURPRISE :  for one muse to come home and find the other already inside.5.  TRIP :  for both muses to road trip or travel together. 6.  BABYSIT :  for one muse to help the other home while they’re drunk. 7.  INSOMNIA :  for one muse to find the other still awake at 3am. 8.  AMBUSH :  for both characters to come under attack by the same enemy. 9.  DANCE :  for one muse to ask the other to dance at a party. 10.  STRANDED :  for one muse to help the other who’s stranded on the road. 11.  SERVICE :  for one muse to cover the cost of something for the other. 12.  SAFEGUARD :  for one muse to save the other from being hit by a vehicle or from some other life-threatening event. 13.  DAZE :  for one muse to wake somewhere and find the other hovering over them. 14.  STOWAWAY :  for one muse to find the other hiding on the same ship. 15.  TAXI :  for both muses to share the same taxi ride. 16.  MAKEOVER :  for one muse to help the other with a new outfit or hairstyle. 17.  LIFEGUARD :  for one muse to rescue the other from drowning. 18.  DISASTER :  for both muses to work together to escape a fire, flood, or other disaster. 19.  TRANSIT :  for one muse to sit next to the other on a public transport. 20.  SPRAIN :  for one muse to carry the other after spraining their ankle. 21.  EMPLOY :  for one muse to be hired as the other’s bodyguard, tutor, assistant, etc. 22.  QUEST :  for one muse to help the other with a task in exchange for compensation. 23.  SOOTHE :  for one muse to calm the other during a panic attack. 24.  RECOVER :  for one muse to return the other’s lost belonging. 25.  UMBRELLA :  for one muse to share their umbrella with the other on a rainy day. 26.  HEAL :  for one muse to nurse the other back to health from a sickness or injury. 27.  NIGHTMARE :  for one muse to comfort the other after a nightmare. 28.  REUNION :  for one muse to run into the other again after a long time. 29.  PRIZE :  for one muse to win the other a prize at a carnival. 30.  NUDE :  for one muse to walk in on the other while they’re changing. 31.  BED :  for both muses to wake in the same bed, naked or fully clothed. 32.  TRAIL :  for one muse to notice the other has been following them. 33.  EVADE :  for one muse to pull the other into an alleyway to escape their pursuer. 34.  THIEF :  for one muse to confront the other after having something stolen by them.35.  CAUGHT :  for one muse to walk in on the other singing / dancing.36.  FESTIVE :  for both muses to decorate for a special occasion.37.  PRESENT :  for one muse to give the other a  (birthday)  gift.38.  WEARY :  for one muse to wake up after falling asleep on the other.39.  CAPTIVE :  for one muse to hold the other against their will.40.  SNAP :  for one muse to yell at or push the other out of frustration.41.  SLEEPOVER :  for one muse to stay the night at the other’s place.42.  TRESPASS :  for one muse to trespass on the other’s property.43.  BREAK-IN :  for one muse to discover the other robbing their place.44.  MERCY :  for both muses to come across an injured animal.45.  UNKNOWN :  for both muses to wake and find themselves in a strange place.46.  ACCOMPLICE :  for one muse to assist the other at the scene of a crime.47.  ASTRAY :  for both muses to take a detour and lose their way.48.  RELAX :  for both muses to share a hot tub or hot spring.49.  MUSE :  for one muse to model for the other's art project.50.  ACCOMPANY :  for one muse to give the other an extra ticket to an event.51.  SALVAGE :  for one muse to retrieve the other's belongings from a thief.52.  MEAL :  for both muses to prepare and share a meal together.53.  CEMETERY :  for one muse to find the other at a gravestone.54.  REFUGE :  for one muse to shelter the other from enemies.55.  ARRANGED :  for both muses to date or marry out of convenience.56.  FAVOR :  for one muse to owe the other a favor.57.  VACATION :  for both muses to book the same hotel on vacation.58.  DEFEND :  for one muse to save the other from one or multiple assailants.59.  CATCH :  for one muse to return the other's pet that escaped.60.  RESTRICTED :  for both muses to sneak into someplace they're not supposed to be.

set the scene setting prompts (but a little more specific) 001, a convenience store past midnight. 002, a hospital waiting room at 3 in the morning. 003, a photoshoot outdoors in the middle of winter. 004, an indoor filming set of a detective's office. 005, a new house/apartment filled with unopened cardboard boxes. 006, a swing set in an empty playground at night. 007, on stage in an empty theatre. 008, inside an old abandoned house. 009, an empty cemetery at night. 010, the arrival hall at an airport. 011, the last train compartment that's not full. 012, the roulette table in a casino. 013, on the deck of a cruise ship. 014, a kitchen during a black out, surrounded by candles. 015, a treehouse in the middle of the woods. 016, on the dance floor during a wedding. 017, behind the chapel before the wedding ceremony starts. 018, backstage during the middle of a concert. 019, a crowded club during a bachelorette party. 020, standing in front of a painting at a museum. 021, a small, intimate family barbecue. 022, a gazebo while it's raining. 023, the back of an empty bus. 024, a hotel room with only one bed. 025, an empty balcony while a party goes on inside. 026, a bar just after closing. 027, an empty sports stadium. 028, lakeside while the sun is setting. 030, an empty stretch of road beside a broken down car. 031, in front of a suspicious pool of blood in an empty parking lot. 032, in the crowd of spectators during an underground fight. 033, a plane during a bout of turbulence. 034, on kiss cam at a sports game. 035, at a table during a charity gala. 036, a masquerade ball. 037, a halloween party in a suburban house. 038, the beach in the late afternoon. 039, a dressing room after a big performance. 040, exploring the depths of a mysterious cave.

(  prompts for the five senses. add [reversed] to reverse the action. feel free to change wording as needed & add details )𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇. [ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver's shoulders [ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 ] ― sender and receiver fall into bed together on silk sheets [ 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender pulls receiver's hair ( gently / hard ) [ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 ] ― sender strokes receiver's hair [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender brushes receiver's hair[ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender paints a picture onto part of receiver's body ( specify what & where ) [ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender traces their fingertips over receiver's body[ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body [ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 ] ― sender reaches out to hold receiver’s hand [ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ] ― sender worships receiver's body𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄. [ 𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver something they’ve never tried before ( specify what )[ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender kisses receiver to taste the lingering flavour of what they ate or drank on their lips ( specify what )[ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood[ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver soup when they’ve fallen ill [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] ― sender makes receiver a cocktail to try [ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender cooks receiver their favourite meal [ 𝐓𝐑𝐘 ] ―  sender gives receiver a taste of what they're cooking / baking for their opinion𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. [ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 ] ― sender blindfolds receiver[ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver see each other again after a period of being apart [ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender notices something different about receiver ( injury / haircut / tattoo / piercing / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender greets receiver in formal partywear ( feel free to add detail ) [ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 ] ― sender takes receiver to see lanterns in the sky [ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender and receiver lay under the stars to stargaze [ 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room [ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender and receiver see a shadow move out the corner of their eye [ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ] ― sender and receive watch as something burns ( candles / a building / a campfire / etc )[ 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender takes receiver to the aquarium to watch the sea life [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ] ― sender recognises receiver at a masquerade party𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃. [ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ― sender puts on the radio to listen to music with receiver[ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ] ― sender plays receiver their favourite song on an instrument ( specify what )[ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ] ― sender and receiver are in bed together while rain lashes against the windows / tent / etc[ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender whispers something in receiver's ear ( specify what )[ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender asks receiver for a dance upon hearing a song[ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver hear a sound when they should be alone ( footsteps / creaking floorboards / a scream / etc )[ 𝐇𝐔𝐌 ] ― sender hums a lullaby to lull receiver to sleep[ 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 ] ― sender comforts a temporally deaf receiver after a loud sound ( gunshot / explosion / etc )[ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌 ] ― sender calms receiver down from a panic attack in a loud place[ 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender and receiver hear a muffled sound from another room / outside ( music / people / creature / etc )[ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender hears receiver crying and approaches comfort them𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋. [ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 ] ― sender puts a scented bath bomb into receiver's bath[ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 ] ― sender lights a scented candle for receiver[ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender puts perfume / aftershave on receiver’s ( wrist / neck / cheek )[ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender inhales receiver’s scent[ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊 ] ― sender is drawn to the kitchen by receiver’s cooking[ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ] ― sender steals an item of receiver's clothes because it smells like them [ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender notices receiver smells of their shampoo / shower gel[ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender gives receiver flowers[ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender helps clean receiver after a long day / stressful situation[ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver walk through the sewers to escape capture / avoid detection / chase someone[ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender massages receiver with a scented oil

Summary: The world has never felt so cold. AU. Rivetra.  xxxxxxxx He scans the printed words of the newspaper for any interesting headlines. There is nothing much, just alerts about the weather and articles having to do with politics. After hearing something light hit the floor in the kitchen, he peers over to see what exactly it was. However, when he is met with her bent over form and her perfectly shaped, ahem, “asset” he finds his mind drifting off to other thoughts. He restrains himself from leaning to get a better look, but a small smirk appears on his face at the thought of his sneaked glance. Then, when she straightens up – the runaway coffee filter box now firmly grasped in her hands – she meets his level gaze. A pink tinge appears on her cheeks as she realizes what he had been doing and her hands automatically flutter up to rest on her slightly bulging stomach.  “To think that you’re still shy after being married for two years,” he teases as she sets his coffee mug down on the table. She turns around and he extends his hand to lightly pinch her butt. “Levi!” she scolds only half-heartedly before he pulls her back until she teeters on his lap. Wrapping his arms securely around her waist, he leans forward. Carefully maneuvering around her swollen belly he seals his mouth to hers.   His lips move lovingly, gently. When he feels her tongue poke into his mouth, he deepens the kiss. He smells the cinnamon and vanilla from her being in the kitchen, and where his hands hold onto her, the skin is smooth. Since becoming pregnant, she has grown curvier in the best of places, and her once muscular abs and sides have become soft with the extra weight. Not that he minded when she possessed the tight muscles of a gymnast, but this slightly different body is a welcomed change. Almost ritualistically, she has begun lathering her body in cocoa butter, ‘good prenatal bonding she calls it.’ Frankly, he thinks it is just an excuse for her to make her skin even more touchable and to taunt him as she rubs her hands all over her body. Her hands come up and brace themselves on his shoulders, and she begins squirming on his lap. He moves as if to take her to the bedroom, but she stops him when she pulls back and giggles. “What?” he questions, loving the way he can still make her blush so deeply. “The baby is kicking,” she whispers, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on her stomach. He feels the flutter of movement against his palm from within her body and cannot keep the smile from his face. Petra glances up at him and cracks her own grin at the expression on his face, her eyes squinting from the intensity of her action. At the moment, she is his only family, and in three months their small family will grow by one more. Xxxxxxxxx “I should be back by two this afternoon, so we can go out for a late lunch,” Levi says as he pulls on his shoes and winter coat. “Okay, I’m going to run to the grocery store, is there anything special you want for dinner this week,” she asks before helping him wrap a scarf around his neck. “I’m okay with anything,” he tells her as she lightly kisses his nose. “Look how pretty the snow is,” she says quietly, leaning against his chest for a moment as she looks out the window. “It’s so peaceful.” He follows her gaze and has to agree with her. Outside is blanketed with white, the sky taking on that appearance of it simply being a bright backdrop that somebody had draped over the usual blue expanse. Snowflakes flutter down slowly as if they have all the time in the world before joining others in the light dusting that covers the ground. Even the small bunny hopping around in their yard is pure in color. A strange sensation in his stomach causes Levi to embrace Petra just a little tighter, brush back her copper hair just a little gentler, and hold her just a little longer. “Honey,” she whispers as if afraid to ruin the moment. “You’ll be late for work.” Slowly he releases her, and for a moment just to takes in her appearance. The angle of her nose, the curve of her jaw, the gentleness of her eyes… everything. “I love you,” he tells her. Sure, he had told her plenty of times before, but it still surprises her. Levi had always been a very personal man, keeping his feelings to himself; it took him two years of dating before he finally proposed. As always, she smiles back genuinely before kissing him lightly and shooing him out the door. “I love you too,” she calls out as he gets in the car and begins to pull out of the garage. She waves and blows a kiss as always before reentering the house and closing the door. Xxxxxxx The paper work on his desk is as blank as it had been when Erwin had set it on his desk. The Times New Roman font taunts him on the page as it blurs and focuses, blurs and focuses. He rises from his chair with enough force to almost knock it over, and moves to the back window of his office. Glaring out of it, a tight knot pulls in his stomach as he watches the wind pick up and the once calm snow dance around until it hits the glass forcefully. He glances at the phone on his desk and has a strong urge to call his wife, his Petra, to see if she is sitting at home, sipping tea and waiting for him. Just when he picks up the black receiver and begins pressing the first number of their house number, his co-worker, Eld, bursts through the door, a panicked expression on his face. “Levi!” he gasps out, “there’s been an accident.”Without another word, he is out the door, a grave expression dominating his features. Xxxxxxx The ride to the hospital goes by in a blur. He drives quick, but carefully on the – now slick – roads. He mentally berates himself for not telling Petra to stay in today. He should have volunteered to go to the store on his way home from work. He should have held her tighter this morning.  He should have kissed her longer. He should have… He should have… But he did not. Parking quickly he runs into the ER, practically yelling at the woman behind the desk. “My wife was just brought in,” he sounds panicky, but he could not care less. He just needs to see her, he just needs to see her smile and know that she is alright. “Her name is Petra Ackerman, she is pregnant.” The woman’s eyes widen momentarily before she moves out from behind the desk. “Please follow me, sir,” she walks quickly, ushering him down harshly lit hallways that reek of antiseptic. “She was just brought in a little bit ago,” she begins telling him. “A semi truck jackknifed on the road and when she tried to avoid it, she skidded on ice and hit a tree.” She comes to a stop in front of a closed door that lacks windows and Levi pushes past her to get inside. She stops him with a firm hand on his chest. “The trauma has caused her body to go into labor.” “But, she’s only six months along,” Levi says now itching to get into the room. The nurse shakes her head slightly before stepping aside and opening the door. Instantly, he is assaulted with the sound of Petra yelling in pain. “Petra!” he calls, and her head instantly turns to him. “L-Levi,” she pants before another cry escapes her. “Levi, the baby, it’s too soon.” Sweat and tears stream down her face and her legs are dyed red with her own blood. Monitors next to her bed beep loudly and nurses bustle around with grave looks on their faces. By her side now, Levi takes her hand, which she squeezes weakly. “I’m here, Petra,” he says pressing a kiss on top of her head. “I’m here.” The doctor tells her to push, and Petra complies with shout. Her face is as white as a sheet and her whole body trembles. “I-I can’t do this,” she sobs and Levi cannot stand how absolutely hopeless she sounds. “Petra, look at me,” he orders, sounding much more calm than he actually is. “You can do this because you are strong.” She sobs loudly and Levi moves closer to her face so that she focuses on him. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met, beautiful, kind, determined.” A painful smile slips on her face at his words and a shaky hand comes up to cup his cheek. “And ever since I met you that rainy day in the bar five years ago, my life has never been better.” She kisses him quickly on the lips before tensing up and giving one final push. She falls heavily back on the bed, her eyes fluttering shut. Levi looks down to see a sad expression on the doctor’s face, and one of the nurses wrapping up a completely still bundle in a blue blanket. “Doctor?” Levi asks, his unoccupied hand curling into a tight fist. The doctor just shakes his head, but presses a finger to his lips gesturing to Petra. One of the nurses in pink scrubs walks over to him as another doctor begins examining Petra’s battered torso. “Mister Ackerman,” she whispers into his ear. “I’m so sorry, but the baby was stillborn.” He notices a lone tear running down the nurse’s cheek. “We should not tell Missus Ackerman yet because she doesn’t need anymore stress on her body at the moment.” “Levi?” Petra’s small voice croaks out and the nurse gently tells her to remain still and not strain herself. “Yes?” Levi asks, his voice choked and quiet. Her eyes are still shut as if it is just too much effort to open them, but she raises shaky arms. “Can I hold our baby?” she asks. The nurse looks at Levi and he nods, gesturing for her to bring the bundle wrapped in the blue blanket over. She sets the baby in Levi’s arms and he is shocked at how light it is. He moves back the fabric so he can see his son’s face and it is so small and tinged blue. His little eyes are closed and he does not move and squirm like a baby should. He sets the baby in Petra’s arms, wrapping his own underneath so that she does not actually have to support any of the weight. He leans her tired head against his shoulder and rests his chin on top of her head. “It’s a boy,” he murmurs sadly, and watches as Petra’s eyes open slightly. She looks down at the baby and confusion passes over her features. “Why isn’t he crying?” she asks, and Levi barely acknowledges one of the nurses leaving the room in tears. “He’s sleeping, but the nurse has to take him now, so the doctor can work on you, Petra.” She nods, but the movement is barely more than a tremble of her chin. Passing his son to the nurse, she sets him in a portable crib and wheels him out of the room. “Levi?” Petra begins, “I’m so tired.” Her eyes shut again and her head falls heavily. “I know you are, the doctors need to put you to sleep so they can work on your injuries. But you did amazing, Petra. I told you that you could do it.” “Do you really think so?” she breathes, her voice trailing off. “Of course,” he says as tears gather in his eyes. “I’m going to go to sleep now,” she tells him and he gently sets her back so that she is lying on the hospital bed. “Watch after our son for me, okay?” “Okay, Petra,” he tells her. “You go to sleep now.” She hums out a little response, and Levi wipes a hand down his face in frustration. She lies down for only a moment, her hand now limp in his, when the machines begin to tone singularly, the sound of a flat line. “Doctor, what’s happening?” he asks, though he already knows the answer. “Her wounds were bad enough, but after delivering the baby,” he yells slightly as nurses begin CPR. “It was too much on her body.” “No,” Levi retorts, though he can already feel the warmth leaving his wife’s hand. “No, I am not losing her.” “We are doing everything we can,” the same nurse that had given him his son says as she tries to usher him from the room. “I’m not leaving her,” he says sternly as he watches the doctor try to breath life into Petra’s motionless body. “Don’t ask me to leave her.” “Mister Ackerman –“ “No.” He watches the chest compressions, urging Petra to respond to them. He listens as the long beep continues to carry on, wishing for it to take a pause, signaling the restart of her heart. White noise fills his ears and he just barely hears the doctor sadly mention something about the time of death. Somebody pats his back as they exit the room, leaving him alone with his dead wife. It does not register in his mind what has truly happened. Petra is not dead. How could she be dead? She had woken up next to him happy and healthy this morning just like all the others. She is not gone. Not gone. He leans over the bed and lightly brushes his lips against hers, waiting for her to let out a giggle, waiting for her cheeks to gain a dusting of pink, waiting for her to teasingly smack him and say how much she loves him. But it does not happen. She remains silent. Her cheeks stay pale. Dainty arms continue to lie lifelessly beside her. She is gone. Dead. Never to return to him. He picks her cold hand and brings to his lips as he leans over her small body. Closing his eyes, he rocks slightly as he tries to hold in the emotions. She did not deserve this. She did not deserve this. She did not f***ing deserve this. Of all people in the world who deserve to live a long life filled with loving people, Petra is at the top of the list. He traces his fingers through her hair, down her nose, over her neck, brushes the veins in her arms, skirting by her hips, drawing circles down her legs to her toes, and back up again. He sits with her for a long time, it feels like weeks. He just looks at her body and thinks of her. He vaguely remembers Erwin coming in and ushering him to a car, but the ride home is engraved in his mine. It is silent, and he is thankful. Erwin does not try to console him; he simply drives Levi to the small white house on the corner of the street. Erwin Smith is not simply his boss, he is easily his best friend – apart from Petra, of course. The blonde man had stumbled into Levi’s life many years ago, back in a dark time that he often attempts to block out. Erwin had helped him straighten everything out, had given him a job, and had put him on the right path. Eventually, when they were at a dusty, old bar that they frequently occupied, Erwin had bet Levi to speak with the copper haired girl at the opposite booth. The car jolts to a halt in the driveway and Erwin tells Levi that he will have Mike drop his car off later. Stumbling out of the car, the man’s voice stops him. “Levi, I truly am deeply sorry. Petra was an amazing woman. Neither of you deserved this.” He nods his head because it seems like the appropriate thing to do before unlocking the front door and entering his home. The silence is deafening. It feels like forever since he has returned to an empty house. Petra would always have music playing softly in the background, and as she makes dinner or reads she always hums along. On grey days like this, candles would be lit around the house. But the house is cold and vacant. Walking through the entryway, he can imagine her peaking around the corner before launching herself at him with open arms. He would just hold her and listen as she chatters away about her teaching job or the long lost friend she stumbled upon that day. He walks to their bedroom, flinching as the sounds of his footsteps reverberate off the wooden floors. He drags his feet across the room and sits on top of their bed. Their first night in here had been their wedding night. He had purchased the house in secret, and driven her here after the ceremony under the ruse of going to a fancy hotel. She had giggled the whole ride, her cupcake of a dress bunched up around her in the passenger seat of his car. But, she had sharp eyes and the moment he turned into the suburbs, had begun to interrogate him. He had played it cool, acting like they were just turning around, before pulling up into the driveway. Her little giggles stopped when he exited the vehicle and walked around to her side. Opening the passenger door, he picked her up and carried her small body up the front porch. By now, she had figured out what was happening and happy tears began running down her cheeks. He had saved up for a long time, and bought them this house so that they could escape the rundown deathtrap of an apartment that they used to have. It was his first step in starting his family, purposefully choosing the ranch style house because of the two extra bedrooms. As he carried her through the front door, she buried her face in his chest, trying to hide the absolute mess the tears had made of her makeup. Then, taking her to the bedroom, he laid her on the bed on the very same duvet that he sits on now. The look on her face at that moment was truly stunning. She looked excited, thankful, and amazed all at once. Her hair fanned around her head, and her hazel eyes shown with appreciation and love. Her giant ruffled dress had nearly taken up the entire bed by its sheer size, and as he carefully unsnapped, untied, and removed the monstrous thing, her laughter filled the room. At the thought, a strangled sob escapes Levi’s throat. She had easily been his true love, a light in his dark life, and he has no idea what to do without her. He stalks to the kitchen ignoring all the pictures hanging on the walls. He felt the eyes of his past-self judging him, blaming him for losing his entire family. He had that sickening feeling in his stomach that morning, he had felt so uneasy at work, but he ignored all of if. He had left her at the house. He left her. The bedroom has many memories, but the kitchen has even more. Her cup still sits on the table, the remnants of her tea having grown cold, a light pink lipstick stain along the rim. He imagines her bustling around the area, making dinner as he follows along behind her, cleaning up the mess. He remembers her laughing as he tidied any little mess she made. They had fallen into a routine so easily. She would cook, he would clean, she would experiment with spices and he would be her loyal taster. Bustling through the cabinets, he finds a brown bottle with a black label. Silently he takes it to the table and sits down in his spot, eying the abandoned cup across from him. Tilting the bottle in cheers, he untwists the top and takes a giant gulp. The whiskey burns all the way down. Looking out the window, he watches as the snow continues to fall, calm once again. The small white flakes seem to mock him as they drift gently down.We caused the accident, they seemed to say. We took her from you. After downing more of the whiskey, he pulls open the sliding door and walks into the back yard. Without thinking, he lobs the empty bottle, gaining a sick sort of satisfaction as the sound of glass shattering reaches his ears. Falling to his knees, he raucously yells her name. His voice is desperate and needy. Which he supposes fits in the situation. She left him. He sits in the snow, the numbness from loss worse than the numbness from the cold. As the wind picks up and the snowflakes grow massive in size, he could have sworn he saw her standing there, in a brilliant white gown laughing as she danced around. Somehow he finds himself sitting on the couch in the living room, the news blaring on the television. “Snow storm Titan is on the move again and its bringing harsh winds and heavy snowfalls with it,” the man says, gesturing to the swirling animation of white behind him as it moves across a map. “Make sure you drive carefully and have plenty of nonperishables in your pantries.” The scene changes to a woman sitting behind a desk, a sad expressions on her face. “Speaking of driving carefully, a deadly crash occurred today.”Levi’s eyes widen as a picture of Petra’s blue Civic smashed into a drive is shown. It is scrunched up like an accordion, the driver door is gone, probably cut away, and the all the visible windows are broken.   “Second grade teacher, Petra Ackerman who was currently on maternity leave, was driving down the road when her car slipped on ice as she attempted to avoid an out of control semi truck.” Levi tenses as a photo of Petra taken for her job flashes on the screen. “Missus Ackerman was taken to the hospital in critical condition and though the doctors tried all they could, she and the baby passed away there.” Levi kicks over the table in front of him and sends the television plummeting to the ground.   Now on her side, the woman continues speaking about his dead wife. She mentions how loved Petra was, something about a memorial ceremony at her school, before adding how much she will be missed. “She is my wife!” Levi shouts at the cracked screen, before raiding the kitchen for any more alcohol. He finds two bottles of wine and downs them without thinking. As the drink begins to hinder his movements, he stumbles through the house, memories of bright smiles and copper hair haunting him. He ends up in the would-be nursery, which only has a changing table pressed against one wall. Petra had convinced Levi to wait until after the baby shower to buy anything else. He imagines how her pregnancy should have gone. He would receive a call at work from one the hospital staff saying that Petra’s water broke while she was at home taking a nap. He would rush to the maternity ward of the hospital rather than the emergency room and witness her give birth with no complications. He would hug her as she holds their new son and whisper sweet nothings in her hair. They would come home and take turns waking up in the middle of the night to comfort the child. She would be a great mother, kissing scraped knees, washing dirty hands, and eventually another would come along. Not able to take it anymore, he walks out of the room, tripping over his own feet Landing on the ground with a light thud, his palm begins to sting, prompting him to look down. He finds little pieces of glass embedded in his skin, as blood trickles down his arm. Not recalling breaking anything, he begins to search the ground for the source of the glass. He finds an overturned picture frame with the very corner of its content sticking out. Curious, he pulls on the pointed end until he can see a picture he recognizes as being taken right after they had gotten engaged. They lay on the grass, Petra smiling widely at the camera that she holds above them, so much so that her eyes are closed. His arms are wrapped around her. Rather than looking at the camera, his eyes are glued to her face, and a shadow of a smile can be seen.   Flipping it over, he sees a note scribbled in Petra’s handwriting. Engaged! I will always be yours, forever. As he leans against the wall, Levi cries over the love that he had just lost, thinking that the world has never been so cruel or ever felt so cold.

Summary: Etain hated to admit it but she was a target. A liability. A problem for all of those around her. She had never really worried about the nagging truth until after almost being gunned down point blank. Being a Jedi wasn't all it was labeled as. ( This is an old story I found in my google docs. I used to be an absolute simp for these two and I thought it was finally time to put this fic to rest 🥺 )     Jedi Knight Etain Tur Mukan never considered herself to be attached. She was one of few, a Jedi, destined for war, praise, and greatness when her time came on the field. That was what Jedi were born and raised to do, become lethal fighters and uphold the peace and values passed from one generation of fighters to another. She carried the burden of every living and dead Jedi on her shoulders and everyone from council to her master expected greatness. She was supposed to be like them, cookie-cutter perfection and loyally obsessed with the rules imprinted in their minds from their time as padawans. All she had known was the Republic. All she knew was rules. But over time Etain could not bring herself to follow such foolishness. It wasn’t right. They weren't right. Instead of following the path that she was handed, Etain was a rule breaker. A traitor in some people’s eyes. A rebel to a degree, blatantly not following the Jedi code and teachings she had learned for so long out of a feeling she could not yet understand. A feeling that always found its way to her head and reminded her she was not a soldier but a keeper of the peace. Yet all she had ever been was a warrior and a killer. The Jedi would never accept her if they knew. She would be kicked out of the Order, out of the GAR, out of the Republic, and become an outcast to everyone she thought she knew. There was so much wrong with what she had done, but yet again Etain wouldn't have forgiven herself for failure to do the right thing when forced to make that choice.She followed the will of the force, and wouldn't second guess what it wanted her to do. This was the only way, there was no turning back. Memories of the past were faded and torn but Etain still remembered when her old master told her that when the time came, she would know what her future would be. She would know what path she was to take, and see the future that the light embraced. It was a foolish thing at the time but now Etain understood.She had found her path, and it wasn't something she was supposed to be proud of. Attachment was forbidden, and hated by the Jedi. There was no love. Only companionship. There were no feelings. Only connections to other beings through the force. There was no happiness. Only death and fighting. Etain couldn't understand for the longest time. Confused about her place in the world, who she was, and what she blindly followed through all the years.Maybe she had made a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t her path, and maybe this wasn't supposed to be what she was. Everything was caving and Etain wasn't sure what to think until she was reminded of what the Republic meant to her. She was reminded of something she would have never imagined. A clone. Darman held a certain lightness in the force. A balance between internal conflict and resiliency which allowed him to meet the high demands of the GAR and never question his reasons or actions. Tired coffee-brown eyes belied his youthful appearance. Eyes that glowed with a rare warmth for Etain. Darman was the example of the Jedi she had wanted to be. Strong, loyal and supreme in kindness. Not afraid of weakness or imperfection. She yearned to be by his side, aware of the Jedi’s judgment on such things. Darman had grown to become her entire galaxy, and she wouldn't let the Jedi Order nor the war stop her from loving the clone as he deserved. Because with all that had happened, he deserved all the love in the universe. Now she understood her path was the one with Dar. It was the will of the Force that had caused their paths to unite. Wholehearted was her love for the clone and no longer was it tainted with anxiety about the Code and what it taught as a double-edged sword. Sacred in text, wrong in action. It was almost as foolish as the Kaminoans who indoctrinated loyalty and fear into clones from birth. She didn’t subscribe to unattachment, but Dar retained ingrained belief that he was created just to die on the battlefield.He was so much more than just a number. To her, everything.It didn’t take long for Etain to make up her mind and inside she knew without Darman, she could not be happy. It was the blind rush of love that made her forget everything. It was her decision to break the rules, no one else’s. Whether that was cherished til death, or regretted for life.   Etain let out a long and deep breath, mind drifting as she absconded from troublesome reality. She sat statuesque centrally in her small mental bubble. In the back of her mind, registered faintly the bitter aromas of cheap caf and acrid sterilization fluid. Eyes that stung from lack of sleep fluttered closed. The ache in muscle and joint dwindled away as the Force blissfully, readily received her. Stress and strenuous hours of work elsewhere was relinquished, thoughts surrendered. As her mind focused on the force within, it embraced her fully. It washed over, and filled her to overflowing, until she was one with its permeation in everything. The Light tugged gently. Gleaming silver strands of life that were displayed in a portrait of beings. It had been a few hours since Omega Squad with the assistance of Kal Skirata had left their base, but unfortunately not under the best terms.They had returned empty-handed the past few days, without a drop of evidence regarding whoever had attempted to quietly and stealthily kill both her and Jusik not a week ago. Whoever it was had experience and knew how to cover their tracks discreetly when it mattered but in the process had also angered a squad full of Clone Commandos and a Mandalorian mercenary. Not the best play on their part. In the end, both she and Jusik had made it out with a few scratches but both Darman and Skirata had slipped into a protective haze and were hell-bent on tracking down this assassin before anything else happened. It was true Etain was shaken when it happened but both Jedi were shocked when they were placed in a discreet location with a few day's foods and told to stay put. Jusik had managed to get off the hook with Skratia in time but she wasn't as lucky. Darman was NOT letting her out until he found whoever was after them and there was nothing that was going to change his mind. Etain never knew how stubborn clones could be until she loved Darman. He was loyal but not like the ‘regs’ she worked with day in and day out. He could, would speak up to a Jedi and not cower in fear of what might happen if he stepped out of place. Etain let out another stifled breath and felt the force dance from within her, lighting up every spare inch of her being. Oh, Darman. Because of his worry there she was, in a small but comfortable hotel with nothing but her thoughts and the quiet dripping of the caf machine in the kitchen to her side. A single bright light cast down from above as she sat on a large and surprisingly clean bed in the corner of the room. A small window was open to her left and despite the risk of a waiting sniper, Etain enjoyed the crisp and almost sweet tangy smell of the night air.Her mind was serene, and nothing in her surroundings appeared to trouble her. It was the first time she could remember in a long time that she had allowed herself this luxury. To relax and feel like a normal human in the universe. She hadn't asked to be a Jedi, and she never asked to be a target. But the force worked in strange ways and finally letting her off the hook was a new one for the Jedi. It felt so nice to be alone with just her thoughts, just her and the force. It was something she would always enjoy, although she found it a luxury short-lived. Not five minutes after she had settled down, a familiar feeling dawned at the back of her mind, one that filled her mind with warmth and familiarity. She could sense them.Kal, Niner, Atin, Fi… Darman… and someone she didn't recognize- exhausted, stubborn. Blazing unhappy to be where they were, but still conscious and alive. The once inviting and friendly room she enjoyed seemed to chill instantaneously, making her joints shudder with an almost alien feeling of trepidation. Everything seemed in order, but her stomach churned as she was engulfed by the strangers presence, sensing something she hadn't felt in a long time.It was… regret. A wavering sadness… she couldn't put her finger on what, exactly.She wished her Jedi compassion would just go away, but she couldn't help but feel bad for whoever it was. If they were missing something or perhaps someone, and if they had a love of their own.Understanding the same pain of being separated from someone dear, a part of her wanted to let whoever it was return to whoever they had waiting for them. But if this was the person who had tried to kill her, Etain was unsure of their future. The last face they might see was the dim blue light of a Clone Commando's helmet before they were returned to the force. No prisoners in a case like this. Her focus deepened.Dread and surprise splashed over the Jedi like a bucket of ice-cold water as something unexpectedly slammed against the wall of her room, vibrating through the floorboards and eventually reaching her spot on the bed. In a fraction of a second, it shattered her meditative state like thin glass and all she felt was the blood-pumping adrenaline of surprise and a blurred sense of surrounding. The force almost ached in her mind, unhappy that she had torn away so quickly.That didn't matter now, it would have to wait until she figured out what was happening. Out of pure reflex, Etain’s callused and scarred hand quickly stretched out to the right looking for Master Fullier’s lightsaber that lay cold and deserted on the nightstand next to her. Her training and years of practice with the force flooded back into her still numb mind, and she felt the cold metal within her fingers as the force guided the weapon to her hand. Her thumb hovered readily over the small and reflective button, panic starting to seep deeper and deeper into her limbs even as they ached from the weeks and months of battle. Her green emerald eyes snapped open almost instantaneously. The Jedi surmised the loud sound resulted from the large wooden and surprisingly cracked entry door that had been flung open, a small cloud of dust and paint fell from around the frame and ceiling. There was no one in the doorway but Etain could still sense a presence outside of the room, in the entry-hall. Her mind cleared, like parted clouds; who would be so bold to try and take her with the Commando closeby? Maybe her mind was getting the best of her.The entry-hall outside the room was dark and uninviting. As if a Gurlanin waited and watched from the inky black shadows within. Dim wall lights did nothing to keep maturing night at bay. Her throat was raw and the Jedi stood, knees weary but she wasn’t going to give in to whoever this was.“Show yourself!” The whirl of civilian transports and chatter of people rose through the open window and filled the room. Etains thumb rested comfortably on her lightsaber, contemplating igniting the blade until a pair of black-gloved hands edged their way around the door frame. A near robotic and low voice responded from the dark.“Whoa there kar'taylir darasuum.”He was crazy if he thought he wouldn't get a reaction storming in. Etain rolled her eyes. So much for meditation.The jedi knight finally relaxed and clicked her tongue in disappointment, the tension in her shoulders faded, returning to former wariness. Darman stood in the hall but when he got the hint, his familiar black Katan helmet peeked through the door. Etain could almost feel his smirk from under the layers of protection. He knew how to playfully get under her skin. ‘Cheeky di'kut…' Etain growled under her breath and resisted the urge to throw something at the clone who wandered in like nothing happened, closing the door quietly behind him. “Force, Darman.” The door was pushed closed gently. Secure again, she fell backwards with a thunk into the fluffy sheets. “I could have killed you!"Darman let out a small, audible chuckle from inside his helmet."You wouldn't do that to me would you?” the tall and charming shuffled mud and dirt across the hardwood floor with his GAR-issued boots. Etain wrinkled her nose and snorted a humorless laugh."You better believe it, Mister.” Eyes locked on the clone. “Anyone who decides to barge in without warning deserves a good kick in the shebs. That doesn't exclude you just because I love you." She crossed her arms like a stubborn padawan who refused to listen to the council. Darman shrugged slightly, his head tilted slightly to the side. Then he leant against a nearby wall with a small grunt of exhaustion.Yet he found strength enough to tease back. "You're in a feisty mood today aren't you? I know better than to mess with a moody jedi…" he straightened and faced her. "Let me make you a deal. I will leave if you so wish, but that means you won't get to hear the news I have… regarding your case and some Uj cake I happened to buy for a lovely jedi." his helmet dipped as if scanning her. So they had found whoever it was. Etain uncrossed her arms as her facial expression softened slightly. This could be resolved soon.Etain knew that this person was dead set on killing her and run away with their few quick credits, but something about this person was familiar, scarly familiar. It stirred from deep inside a threat that Etain would be unable to bear it if the Commandos were to execute them. Something was plain wrong, unfelt in all her time on the battlefield. She felt remorse, forgiveness, and no longer cared if they were trying to end her life. For some foreign reason, she understood.But her pity wouldn't stop Skirita. To beg and complain to Darman would yield no results. The second he told his unofficial father-figure and other Commando’s about her feelings, the Mandalorian would respond with some snippy retort about Jedi being too soft. Sometimes it was hard being the one who understood. Like a flower among thorny vines.“So which is it?"Etain focused back on his visor, retrieved from her concerns by his rough, but warm voice.“Will I be a lucky man? Or get the boot?” Darman jabbed his finger towards the door to the side, his voice still a mellow and unconditional tone of care even through the filter provided by his helmet.Etain sucked in a deep breath and finally gave in. Even for a million credits, she would never turn down spending time with him.“Alright, you win. Now stop standing there like a smug gambler and make yourself comfortable. I told you I didn't need this sort of room. I have no idea what to do with myself half the time.” A weak smile formed on her freckled face.“Come on, Etain, it can't be that bad…."The jedi sensed his terribly planned falsehood from a mile away and stared at him. No clone would sit around when they could be on the field, blasting droids with their brothers. He needed to be taught a thing or two about persuasive arguments.“At this point, I’d rather use Mird as target practice than sit here all day and wallow in loneliness. Vau wouldn’t forgive me, but then we could have something to fight over. I’m guessing- Jedi intuition- that whatever news you have isn’t worth much as a bargain. Seeing as how you haven’t given me the ok to leave. I know you mean well, but my place is out there right next to you and the rest of Omega. What good is a Jedi if they can’t fight? What good am I? ““I ask myself that sort of thing every day. One clone in an army of millions. All of us are expendable and the Republic is well equipped in numbers, they don't miss us if we die. I know, I know, there’s a line between Jedi and clones, but to be back in the middle of a bustling city is as good as a suicide mission. Snakes everywhere- it’s just a matter of time before we find them first. Just wait. Alright? Until Kal can beat some information out of that sorry dikut we caught. You’re simply not going anywhere.”Etain shifted position and patted the sheets next to her, indicating for the clone to sit with her. “Who is this person?” She nodded to the wall. The presence stewing in the gravity of their trapped situation.Darman shrugged and, as if resigned, made his way to flop down on the sheets dramatically. “We don’t have much info about them. Yet.”“Them?” Etain shifted to face him. Drawing with her eyes the pattern details on the cover-sheet, she rubbed the back of her palm.“Yep, it wasn't just one person, Etain. They all scrambled in different directions when one spotted Niner. We were only able to stun this man without hitting anyone else in the process.” Dar’s words flowed easy, but then with a tired sigh he lowered his head.Etain swallowed hard and kept her feelings from bursting at the seams. Someone was trying to kill her. Not like on the field by Separatists. Deliberately targeted. These were certainly interesting, trying times. “What is known about them so far?”He shook his head. “Nothing much. Bessany was able to scratch up this one is naught but a normal civ'. Works at the mill factory, owns a south-side apartment. Wife. Kid. Nothing else." He tilted his head downward. "They sure can cover up their tracks. Someone hired them. Atin and Fi believe the best bet is some sort of private contractor. An… amateur assassin trying to make their name.” He grumbled and turned his head away at the notion.Etain blinked a few times, trying to clear the tired fog from her mind and vision. In want of comfort, she pressed through hesitation and traced her fingertips over his Katan armor. It stood out like night and day against white sheets.It was luxurious to touch him and not through the force. Her soft fingers gently glanced over various scratches and dents that lay imprinted in the black armor. Defying years of dodged shots, evaded missiles and nearly being blown to pieces by landmines- his armor retained enduring quality as the day it was issued.Memory of his old armor lightened her mind. The same but a milky white color. In that armor the two first met. In that armor Etain discovered love with a clone and learnt what the Republic truly was. A party who viewed Clones as property. Sending them to the furthest reaches of the galaxy without remorse or guarantee of a future life after everything. Pawns in the galactic board-game and Etain loathed it. Shipped out like animals for slaughter. Their bodies strewn through the galaxy like litter. A terrible thing to think about. Jedi were taught to see the clones as collages, and tools to help with completing missions. But they were people, actual, physical, breathing beings!At times she felt so disconnected from Dar. As if their lives were similar yet different. Bred for death, not alive to live. No choices. Together, was a defiant choice made together.When she went to sleep, when she woke up, when she fought, when she hurt, she missed him. He took precedence in her thoughts. Because Etain had come to see what the Republic really had in store for him, she bitterly didn't want him to die on a foreign planet away from her. His raw deal, hers now as well.Fear of never knowing constantly tortured her. The idea of losing him plagued her mind, and stole her sleep. Countless times bracing herself with this is it, he is gone. What would life be without him? It scared her more than anything else did. She wasn't sure what she would do without his guidance.“Why? I… any thoughts on why they're after me?” Sadness crashed like waves into her mind, reaching deeper as she slowly pulled her hand back to herself and placed it in her lap. The warmth disappeared in a matter of seconds. She closed her hand, missing it.With no outward sign, she could feel Dar frown under his helmet, displeased after losing the physical touch. She observed him for details to support what she felt as it radiated from him. Etain glared at the wall in front of her, thoughts rampant.“I don't know Et’ika. Until we’re able to figure out who he’s hired by, there is no telling motive. Even with that information, tracking down the buyer might prove a task of its own.” The Commando scanned her then sat up as if called to attention, back on Kamino. Trained to take in every detail about their surroundings and know every drop of intel they could about their comrades. It could be a little bridge between life and death. Unaccustomed to sharing emotion as a Jedi, Darman’s attentive focus on her proved he understood that something was wrong. Awkwardly she attempted to rub the stubborn tension from her shoulder.“Hey… don't worry about it. I am never going to let anything happen to you -Kal wouldn't either.” He opened his palm, as if letting a caught bird go. “You know that… Right?” With a huff he slowly shook his head.Etain cast an incredulous sidelong gaze. Sorry attempt at words, Dar. He brought his hand up, hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck. While he didn’t always get it right, he always made the effort to understand her feelings.“Etain. I wouldn't let anyone touch you.” He placed his hand firmly on top of hers as if she would disappear at any given moment.“I know, Dar.” As she smiled weakly and his index finger glided over hers. “But there are times I can't help but feel vulnerable. A target.” Straightening her aching spine, she pressed her hands to her back.“Being who I am, I put my life in danger and yours as well as all of Delta and Omega. If one of you…” She flicked her eyes to him briefly, then back to her hand that missed his warmth. “If you got hurt- or worse, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. Not to mention the Jedi. If they knew about me…” She leant back down to her hand, turned to him. “About us, they would kick me out of the order and you would be court-martialed… even kicked out as well. Sometimes I wonder if I was just gone, I could save you all from the destruction for once.”Etain threaded her fingers through his tightly, and he pressed out a long breath.“I believe you, Dar. I believe and trust you more than anyone in the galaxy, but at a certain point. words can only be words. Promises are things no one can really know they can keep."Dar couldn't deny she was right. There was no certainty in war. No clone nor Jedi was promised another day. Not even civvies were guaranteed their safety, privileges and freedoms or securities would last. Fate or luck dictated. And, from what many clones had come to appreciate, the will of the force.No one knew if they would live to see the galactic war end, or die by next rotation. Not even him.A heavy transport brought the traffic volume higher, and rattled the open window. With a scoff Etain glanced at the ceiling expecting to see a crack in the pale plaster."Et’ika." his voice sounded solemn, like a brother trying to comfort their sibling from a familiar nightmare.Etain mustered up a reassured smile and examined the commando, her face still unsure by a degree. Appreciation, respect, she valued him higher than all else. She tilted her head to the side. Darman deserved no less than to know he wasn’t mere droid bait or a number in a mass-produced army. To her he was Darman, recognised as an elite individual. The world would be darker, less worthwhile, if he was gone.Neither of our hearts are made of steel."You know you're a lot more convincing without that bucket, handsome." Etain beamed as she glided her hand to his helmet and pressed the button to release the seal. It hissed. Dar was still as the Jedi lifted off the piece of armor. He shuddered when the cool night air hit his face like a wave. The nebulous fog cleared. They drifted in mutual appreciation that it had been a long time since they last met eyes without the HUD. Under his cuirass, his breath grew heavy. As she lifted her eyes, his own lingered briefly on her mouth. Etain smiled when their eyes met again."There he is." After she pushed out a caught breath and placed the helmet to her left, she returned to her observation, eager to not miss a moment between them. Dar released a relieved and satisfied breath. Relaxation overflowed into the force, and she let it wash away her tension and wariness. Weeks of battle and torment drained from their minds as they basked in the moment they had.Maker, forever wouldn’t be long enough.“You look tired. But then again you Skirata boys never seem to settle down.” she examined his sleep-deprived face, his half-closed eyes. Leant back to his arms, a weakened smile. Her brown hair danced in wisps around her head, and she looked to the window, the air seeping in grew cooler. His hand gripped her wrist, then he rose and crossed to close the window. The hum of life outside, people and speeders, became less intrusive.Dar nodded gently, the draining sensation flowing from him strongly, and Etain raised force shields as it conspired with her own fatigue to knock her out. “Y’know," He made the effort to resurrect himself. "If you're going to scowl someone, try Kal. He taught me everything I know.” The soldier returned to the other side of the Jedi. Cheeky. Slowly she ran her hand through his fine dark black hair.Dar closed his eyes and leaned into Etain’s gentle touch. Safe from the clutches of the outside world, able to focus on the things loved rather than objectives. Newfound confidence and security washed over her from him, and she lowered internal shields once more.“It’s nice to have you back Dar… I missed you.” Etain said to his ear, her cheek resting comfortably against his. Dar hummed in agreement and rubbed a few circles into the Jedi's tunic, returning the consolation. As he did, they stared out the window in front of them. The night was always so comforting. A haven of darkness, solace from judgment and expectations. It provided cover for men to search for rest. Here, now, familiar open rural lands were traded for purple and orange lights of the world outside, busy insects for the hum of motors, and cold loneliness for their rekindled connection. Notes: I could easily argue this wasn't the best of my RC fanfics I wrote but it was definitely one of my favorites. I genuinely enjoyed writing this one with my partner.

Summary: Sometimes it takes space to teach the lessons we all need: that light continues endlessly even after its source is gone, that each breath is a measure of the infinite, and that, in all the miracles of the universe, matter came together to create you. Notes: this is my love letter to space, NASA, and carol danvers     Nick Fury didn’t believe in coincidences. He didn’t believe in fate. The world was filled with too many moving parts to be considered one massive machine. Sitting in a lawn chair, his legs stretched out over the deck, glass of iced tea in hand, he watched Carol Danvers flop back into the grass. Monica Rambeau giggled beside her; all boundless child energy and thin limbs drowning in the sea of life tickling her skin. Above them, the sky was dark and dotted with winking stars already drunk on the heavy, summer night. Humidity weighed down soft words, leaving only muffled, indistinguishable murmurs to reach the house.  Ice clinked against glass, crickets sang out their songs, and Maria pushed open the screen door. She sat down on the steps, her own drink in hand, and leaned back to watch Carol and her daughter.  Somewhere in the dark, metal jingled as Goose chased insects through the shadows. Nick Fury didn’t quite believe in coincidences, but he watched Carol tackle Monica, listened to Maria’s laughter, and saw Goose slink out of the night to sit on the banister and figured that, maybe, some things were just too perfect not to be. oOo “Breakfast?” Maria said softly, standing by the stove in a red Han Solo tank top that was so faded it almost looked pink. Birdsong drifted through the window and Goose was sprawled across the counter, dozing in a long patch of sun. “Sure,” Fury said, “need any help?” Maria waved him off. “Not in here,” she said, already placing the pans on the stove. “Mind fetching the eggs?” Fury scratched Goose between the ears (and got a soft rumble of a chirrup) before taking the offered bowl and heading outside. The world hadn’t quite warmed up just yet; sun still rising up over the tips of the trees. Chicken clucked at him, dodged around his feet. Maria had already scattered some feed and they pecked at the dirt while he gathered up the eggs. When he got back, Carol was digging through the fridge, hair a fluffed, tousled mess. Goose was trying (failing) to perch on her shoulder and Monica had tangled her fingers into her hole-filled t-shirt. She handed cheese over to Maria and reached up to steady the not-quite-a-cat. “Morning,” Fury said. With eyes too awake to be fully natural (god damn morning people), Carol wrapped her arm around Monica’s slumping shoulders. “Morning,” she said, steering the young girl over to the table. “How’d you sleep?” Fury was rudely interrupted by his own yawn and Carol’s grin was too knowing to be anything other than smug. oOo Monica’s fingers dug into Fury’s arm as the jet levelled out. Behind them there was earth; everything that they knew, everything they had come to expect. Before them there was the decloaked Kree Imperial Cruiser—massive and black and looking almost too alien against the backdrop of space. “Is that it?” Monica breathed, climbing closer to stand between Carol and Maria. “Yeah, baby,” Maria reached over, wrapped her arm around her daughter’s waist, and pulled her close. “That’s it.” Carol flicked a few switches and brought them around into the hangar. Talos was already waiting for them, hands clasped behind his back, movement buzzing around him as the Skrulls worked the repair the damage to the ship. The damage hadn’t been too severe—nothing that fully breached the exterior—but work still needed to be done. Lifting a tote of toys, Carol led the way off the jet. Monica ran past her to Talos’ daughter, both of them disappearing to some other part of the ship. Goose’s tags jingled as she trotted after them. The Skrulls no longer jerked away from the Flerken, but Talos still grimaced when she brushed too close to his leg. “How’re the repairs coming?” Carol walked, elbow to elbow with Talos. “Good,” he said, smiling at Soren as they passed. She pulled Maria away, talking about the bridge and something about the communications system. “Just a few more tweaks to the engines and we should be ready to go.” They walked past a couple more rooms—the kitchen, a lounge area, and stopped on the bridge. “The plans you got us were very helpful.” Carol grinned. “Well,” she said, “what’s the use of having a SHIELD agent as a friend if they can’t get you into secure facilities?” “Hey!” Nick cried, hands on his hips. Carol’s grin was bright and no one gave chase as she fled to deeper places in the ship. oOo It took only one hour of proper work before Carol was out in front of the bridge. A wall of glass separated her from her audience as she wove a blazing, meteoric light show above the curve of the Earth. Laughing, the Skrull children clapped their hands and called out requests over the communicator until the sunlight faded from the long stretch of American soil and it was time for the humans to head back down to the planet. oOo “You are never driving again,” Fury said, stumbling out of the car. Carol had the gall to laugh at him, stepping out into the sunshine like she hadn’t just tried to murder him with turns taken too fast and optional brakes. She let him wallow about finally having his feet back on solid ground while she tugged the massive totes of kitty litter out of the trunk. Each weighed about thirty-five pounds and she carried them like they were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “It wasn’t that bad,” Carol said when she came back and he was still leaning over his knees. “You’re so dramatic.” “No,” Fury straightened. “No; it was,” He said and grunted when she dropped a bag of dry food in his arms. “Are you aware that driving is not the same as flying?” Hoisting the scratching post hover her shoulder, Carol filled the brand new litter box with unopened toys, and shrugged. “It’s been a couple of years,” she said, gathering it all up and walking towards the house. “And there’s no lanes in space.” “Yeah,” Fury grumbled, following, “I noticed.” oOo Keller called Fury back to work on a Thursday but, it was odd. Not wanting to go back to the office was normal. It was easy. That didn’t mean it eased the ache of his heart as Carol, with Monica sitting on her shoulders, waved her arm wildly in a goodbye. She was wearing the SHIELD cap he had given her and was arm in arm with Maria. People walked around them, not sparing a glance for the two women whose fingers were sticky from humidity, honey, and the knowledge that they’d saved the Earth from destruction. “Bye, Nick!” Monica called, voice and body above the crowd, unashamed at the looks her volume attracted. Fury waved back unable to stop the grin on his face. When he finally landed in LA a few hours later and stopped by his office, the first email in in his inbox was a collection of scanned pictures. There were a few lopsided ones of Goose playing and lounging around the Rambeau household, some of Carol and Maria singing Karaoke and fighting over a board game, and a couple of Monica and Nick’s Nerf gun battle on the Kree ship. The last one was taken by Talos, probably sometime during their last trip to visit the Skrulls. The four of them were silhouetted by the sun rising over the edge of the Earth; Maria leaning into Carol’s side, Monica sandwiched between them, and Fury tugged close by a stubborn, super-powered woman. Side by side they stood in the consol room, looking down over their planet. oOo “Sir?” Coulson knocked on the edge of the door, head peaking around the frame. “You have a visitor.” “Who—” Fury glanced up from his report but Coulson was gone. Carol walked in and kicked the door shut behind her. Aviator sunglasses sat on her nose, the grey baseball cap was backwards, and her leather jacket half hid an Air Force t-shirt. She had a brown cat carrier in one hand and a box of things—toys, a bed, and some other things he couldn’t quite make out—under her other arm. California sunlight seemed dim against her wide grin and the tiredness that clung to Fury’s shoulders dropped away at the pure energy that seemed to flow through Carol’s every step. Her chaos burned through the order of SHIELD, igniting something in his being that felt like starlight and tasted like lemonade. “Nice office,” she said, placing the box and carrier on his desk. Goose meowed and stuck her nose against the bars until they opened. Free, the Flerken stretched each limb and sniffed at everything in sight. “Hey there, Goosey,” Fury scratched her under the chin and she purred against his hand. Only when the Flerken pulled away to go explore the rest of the office did his attention turn back to the woman examining the map on the back wall. “What’re you doing here?” “Ship’s done,” Carol said, turning away from the drawing of the Earth to pull up a chair. She slumped into it, legs spread out, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m leaving with Talos tomorrow to help him find a place to settle his people. Maybe help find the other colonies scattered across the universe.” Oh. Right. They all knew that the time was drawing close. Carol continued to smile her kind, gentle smile; blue eyes soft like where the sky met the ground on the horizon. Together they watched Goose pad around the room, batting at the leaves of fake plants and climbing up the shelves of his bookcase. “Guess this is goodbye, huh,” Fury said. “Kinda,” she said. “I was actually wondering if you’d watch Goose for a while.” Settling on the windowsill, Goose watched the people on the street below, tailing flicking and curling. “Thought you were going to leave her with Maria?” Carol shrugged, “I was,” she said. “But the Tesseract is still, uh,” her eyes flicked over to the Flerken, “missing and I figured it would be best to have her close by until it shows up.” Until the Flerken did whatever Flerken’s did with what they swallowed. Hopefully it wouldn’t come up in some nasty space hairball. That would certainly be something to explain to his superiors. “Yeah,” Fury said, “I’ll watch the cat.” “Flerken.” “Uh huh.” oOo The universe kept moving, the stars kept shining, and, sometimes, Nick Fury looked up at the sky and knew that in the middle of all the darkness, there was a woman who shone like the sun. oOo “People still have questions,” Coulson said, following at Fury’s heel. Most of the office had gone home, leaving just the two agents, a couple of stragglers, and the cleaning crew. The sun hadn’t even set yet—the joys of the summer—but the office building still managed to feel abandoned. “About you, the Kree, and the woman.” “It’s in the report,” Fury said, resisting the urge to scratch at the three scabs that crossed beneath his new eye patch. The leather dug into his skin and it seemed that each spare thought turned towards the weight of it around his head. Monica had thought it was cool, though. Even called him a pirate in her last letter. A couple of thick-soled boots and a longer jacket later and it made the other agents pause before talking to him, skirting out of his way when he walked. Suspects talked faster and very few people resisted arrest. It was nice. “Understood, sir,” Coulson said, drifting off into silence as they took the elevator up. Fury left the other agent at his cubical desk, walked to his office, and opened the door. Goose sat on his desk; tail wrapped around her paws and purring loud enough that he could hear it across the room. Beside her, dripping with something, was the Tesseract. Its blue light pulsed in an almost sad rhythm, as if it had been through the worst places imaginable. Maybe it had. Who knew what existed in a Flerken? Stepping back, Fury closed the door, locked it, and turned to Coulson. “No one goes in there,” he said, “understood?” “Yes, sir.” Coulson was still standing guard when Fury came back a half hour later with a metal lunch box and two oven mitts. oOo Maria Rambeau’s resume showed up on his desk some three weeks after Carol had left. It arrived with another handwritten note from Monica, a couple of pictures (one of Fury sleeping on the couch, Goose in his lap), and two cover letters. One was for Fury’s boss, detailing her achievements, why they should hire her, the usual spiel. The words swam in the same, easy confidence that both Carol and Maria thrived in and her recommendations came from pilots, commanders, and scientists alike. The other was for Fury and had only one line written in swirling, cursive script: You win, Pirate Man. oOo “With all due respect, sir,” Fury told Keller, “Maria Rambeau is the best damn pilot I’ve ever seen.” oOo The bar sat along a stretch of beach road—ocean to the front, city to the back. Maria downed what was left of her beer. Neon played across her dark skin, painted across the line of her jaw and the curve of her cheek. Her red t-shirt looked more like blood underneath the mix of colours but her smile was wide as she laughed. “We were idiots,” Maria told him, “Lawson didn’t mind, though; I think she liked it.” She paused, hummed under her breath, stared down at her hands. “Or, well. Mar-Vell, I guess. But she’ll always be Doctor Lawson to me.” The silence of mourning old friends drifted between them. Respect burned for the Kree scientist who had given her life to help those that needed it. Maria lifted her bottle and saluted the ceiling and, beyond it, the stars. “Bet the base loved you,” Fury said, finishing off his drink. That made Maria laugh long and hard. “Hell no,” She managed around her giggles. “Oh, god; no those boys hated us.” Resting her chin in her hand, Maria sighed. “Women couldn’t fly combat so we were stuck testing Lawson’s planes which, I mean. It wasn’t perfect but it was good. Felt right, you know?” Her gaze drifted away, staring at something Fury couldn’t see. “Carol and I would spend hours in the sky flying those planes. Have mock dog fights day in and day out, testing our reflexes to the limit. Going higher, further, faster.” “So that day, in the desert,” Fury set his beer down on the table. “That was your first time ever being in an actual combat situation?” Maria grinned at him. “That’s right,” she said, “spent years and years training for a dogfight like that. Practicing, pretending. After Carol’s death, though,” the words caught and she looked away, swallowed. “The sky didn’t seem all that welcoming anymore and I could only think about the next test flight, the next time one of those planes went down.” She closed her eyes. “When they started pretending the flight didn’t even happen, I knew I couldn’t stay anymore.” oOo The thing about meeting a woman who could fly, shoot energy blasts, and had a cat that was bigger on the inside was that there was literally nothing on planet Earth that could surprise Nick Fury. Not anymore. Eye patch, leather coat, big black boots, and his unflappable attitude got attention in all the right places. Or the wrong ones seeing that people pretty high on the food chain started demanding him to be the one sent off to all the sh*tty weird-ass missions. Next door neighbour suddenly had gills and scales? No problem. Some weird ass looking object had drifted by Earth? Nothing but an alien spaceship passing through. Weird Dog creatures climbing out of the ocean? Just another Thursday afternoon. Fury jumped from Level Three to Level Six within a year. Maria just laughed at him. oOo  Carol arrived in Louisiana three days before Christmas and spent two of them sleeping. Goose stayed in the guestroom with her, curled on one of the pillows and kept watch with half lidded eyes. The rubber suit had been abandoned in a crumpled on the floor and Carol had managed (barely) to pull a tank top over her head before crawling on top of the covers. Monica checked on her every couple of hours to see if she was awake. Maria checked every few hours to make sure she was still breathing. “Did she say anything?” Fury whispered, peeking past the door. Blonde hair was sprawled across the pillows, mixing with soft, orange fur. Carol slept on her stomach with her mouth open, arms folded underneath her head. A breeze drifted through the window, playing with the curtains, and the day was warm despite it being the beginning of winter. “Just gave me a hug, said that she was tired, and passed out,” Maria said and tugged him away. “Come on, she’ll be fine.” oOo The morning of Christmas Eve, Fury walked downstairs to Goose chasing balls of wrapping across the kitchen floor and Carol with a pile of gifts at her feet. She looked like a raccoon caught trying to dig through a garbage can before leaping up out of the chair, blocking her presents from sight, and waving her hands wildly to force him back up the stairs. “Shoo!” Carol hissed, mindful of the noise and the darkness outside the windows. “Go away! I’m not done!” “Just one little peek?” Fury tried to turn around, his smile widening as she ignited, floating to block his view of the kitchen, arms spread to take up more space. “They’re going to be opened in a few hours anyway!” Carol’s laugh filled him from head to toe. “No!” She cried. “Nu uh! It’s Christmas!” “What about a hint? Can I get a hint?” Shaking her head, Carol tried to soften the volume of her giggles the closer to Monica and Maria’s rooms they got. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, “fine; one hint.” Fury’s one good eye narrowed as she leaned in. There was mischief in her gaze; a wildness to her grin. “You ready?” “Yes,” he said. Carol smiled and it was like a storm ripping through him, tearing down the walls and doors of his soul to open him up for the sky to come flooding in. “It’s from space,” she whispered and turned, bounding back down the stairs before he could make a grab at her. “What—of course it’s from space! That’s not fair!” Her amusement echoed through the house, brightening up the corners before the sun had fully woken up. oOo  “We should probably open the space gifts before my parents get here,” Maria said, powdered sugar on her bottom lip from the French toast. Fury collected the plates, snickering at Carol’s pout. “But I spent so much time wrapping them,” the super-powered human whined, laying her head down on the table. “You should at least let them stay that way for just a little bit longer.” Maria pretended to think about it. “Nah,” she said. “Get the weird, questionable gifts out of the way before the normal people arrive.” “Don’t worry Auntie Carol,” Monica said, sitting up straight in her seat, hands folded on her lap, trying to hide her grin with pursed lips. “I’ll be sure to fully appreciate your wrapping skills.” Carol laughed and hugged the girl close. “Thanks Lieutenant Trouble,” she pressed a kiss to Monica’s forehead. “You’re my favourite.” oOo The gifts weren’t the weird kind of weird Fury was expecting. No plants with teeth or dogs with three mouths. Instead, Carol gave them communication devices. Some flat, metal things that looked clear except for the fact that there was text rolling across the surface. “They’re called C-Sats,” Carol said, “kinda like a phone, camera, and video camera all in one,” she held out her own, showing them how to use each button, “but they’ll reach across the universe. A lot of people use them to communicate in secret because their signals cannot be traced.” “Why keep the pager then?” Nick said, lifting up the device, scrolling through the options until he captured a picture of a yawning Goose. Carol shrugged. “These can only reach me when I’m in a certain radius of the access points,” she gave them all a small smile. “The pager is directly linked to my communicator; no matter where I am, the signal will get through.” “Where’d you get them?” “Mining colony,” Carol plucked Maria’s C-Sat out of her hands, typing something across it in rapid Kree glyphs. “Some place called Knowhere; it’s known for its markets.” Monica leaned over her shoulder, watching as Carol connected it to Earth’s satellites and networks. Fury frowned. “What do they mine?” “You don’t want to know,” Carol said, held the device up, and grinned. “Say cheese!” She told Monica and snapped a picture. oOo Torn wrapping paper was shoved into boxes, the mess waiting for another hour to be cleaned up while Maria dragged Fury off with her to go clean up the dining room. Carol sat on the floor of the living room, Monica in her lap holding the communication device and flipping through pictures and videos that had already been taken. “What’s this one of?” Monica said, pointing at what looked like a massive, skeletal head surrounded by nebulous clouds. “That’s Knowhere,” Carol said, resting her chin on the young girl’s head. “It’s not exactly a planet.” Monica zoomed in on the large, empty eye sockets and shuddered. “You’re right,” she said, “I don’t want to know what they mine there.” Flipping to the next picture, she tilted her head to the side, looking down at the clear blue waters and man-made looking star-like landscape. “Where’s this?” “Xandar, capital of the Nova Empire.” “Are they like the Kree?” Carol hummed. “Kind of; they and the Kree have been at war for a thousand years.” “A thousand years?” Monica breathed. “Why?” “Each side has a different story,” Carol said softly, her eyes on the Nova Corps’ familiar star. “This person did that, another person did this. I don’t think anyone really knows who started it.” Monica leaned back against her aunt’s chest and Goose wormed her way onto their laps, purring as they laughed. Once the Flerken had settled, the C-Sat was flipped to the next picture. “What about this one?” oOo  Nick Fury wasn’t quite sure what to expect when he was dragged out to the SHIELD air base outside of Shreverport, but it certainly wasn’t being strapped into the back seat of a jet and throwing up into a small brown bag. “You alright back there?” Carol called over the headset, humour bleeding through her words. “Stomach still in the right place?” “Dunno yet,” Fury groaned, pressing a hand against his stomach and taking as many deep, body filling breaths as he could. Now that the barrel rolls and flips had stopped tugging his centre of mass in all different directions it felt as though his cells were finally settling back down. “Ask me again once I’m back on the ground.” Laughter bled over and he watched as Maria lifted up beside them. “Take it easy on him, Avenger; it’s his first time.” “Aw! I’m your first, Fury? That’s so cute!” He rested his head in his hands. “Please stop talking.” oOo “I take it back,” Fury said, spread eagle on the grass, “your flying is worse than your driving.” “That’s fair,” Maria said, squatting down beside him. “I don’t know why you didn’t come with me; I’m not the one who crashed.” Carol squawked and pushed the other woman over. “I was shot out of the sky!” “Still counts!” oOo Carol borrowed the open workshop for a few days, Monica standing by her side as she worked on a ‘cat carrier that could withstand space’. It looked like a tiny spaceship backpack with its own gravity, oxygen supply, tiny litter box, and storage for food and water. “I want to take Goose with me,” she told Maria once the sun had set, the two of them beneath a blanket. The TV played in the background, sound muted so it was just the lights of each scene flashing across their faces. “You know; a woman and her cat exploring the universe.” “Mmmhmm,” Maria said. “Can’t let the boys and their dogs have all the fun.” oOo Carol stayed on Earth until the end of January. Two weeks in Louisiana, flying planes and showing Monica the universe on a thin screen. Two weeks in LA where she followed Fury around, poking at his investigations and laughed at the way the agents scrambled out of his way. She sampled wedding cakes just because she could, asked a woman at the beach teach her how to surf, and stayed up late playing with Goose. Carol existed loudly because it was the only way she knew how. At the end of the month, when she packed up her Flerken in the special built-for-space carrier and carved a trail of starlight across the ocean sky, Fury wondered if he would ever get used to the silence she left behind. oOo Peggy Carter arrived at the Los Angeles office with an entourage of agents. Her steps spelled out business and her movement was sharpened around the edges. She was an old blade, a sheathed blade, but that didn’t make her any less deadly. Fury stood up when she entered his office, hands on his desk as she closed the door behind her. “Ma’am,” he said, nodding his head but unwilling to tear his gaze away from her. “What can I do for you?” Peggy tugged a chair forward, sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and stared at him with unblinking eyes. “Tell me about Captain Carol Danvers,” she said. Sitting down, Fury leaned back in his seat, folded his hands over his lap, and kept his face carefully blank. “What would you like to know?” oOo “She’s a pilot.” “Yes.” “But you don’t agree with that.” “Not particularly.” Carter hummed, leaned back, tapped her toes against the floor. “What would you call her, then, Agent Fury?” “To put it simply, Mrs. Carter; I’d call her what she is.” “And what is that?” Fury met her spear-glinting gaze with his own. “A hero.” oOo Peggy Carter left just as suddenly as she arrived, but before she walked out of the office, she turned once more to Fury. “I expect great things from you, Agent,” she said, hand on the doorknob. “And if your friend comes back around, please tell her that I’d very much like to meet her.” “I’ll pass the message along,” he said and watched her go. Only when her heels had faded down the hallway did Fury relax back into his seat and rub a hand down his face. “Sir?” His head snapped up, heart thundering in his chest. Jesus. “What is it, Rook?” “Was that—was that who I think it was?” “No, Agent, it was not.” Coulson nodded, once. “Understood, sir. Do you need me to take any files down to records?” Fury looked at the stack on his desk. “Negative, Agent,” he said. “You’re clear to go home.” “Thank you, sir.” He watched Coulson shut the door behind himself, waited until he was sure there would be no more interruptions, and pulled out the C-Sat. Met someone who’d be excited to meet you next time you’re in the neighbourhood. oOo Fury gets the message early in the morning, cup of coffee in hand, sun just rising over the edge of the city and making the ocean glisten. Look what I found, Carol had typed out and there’s a picture of something long, metallic, and looking like a melted version of a telescope. Fury put down his coffee. What the hell is it? I have no idea, she said. oOo It’s a space probe, she told him, hours later. Not ours, someone else’s. Who? Carol’s answer was instantaneous; I don’t know. oOo Another picture came in, a panel taken off the side of the probe. Goose glared hatefully at the interior, hackles raised, ears flat, and teeth bared in a hiss. Beware the Flerken’s true, natural enemy,” Carol had sent. The Alien Space Probe. oOo I’m going to call her Freckles, Carol wrote underneath another picture of the slightly gutted machine. Goose was laying across a toolbox, tail wrapped around her body, eyes closed as she slept. What do you think? Fury rolled his eye and finished his dinner. I think you’re ridiculous. You’re the one with the eye patch, drama queen. He ignored her for the rest of the night and it was only when he was getting into bed that she sent him another picture. It was lopsided, awkward, and pulled just far enough away to capture Carol, the space probe, and half of Goose’s butt. The blonde had a pair of dark aviator looking goggles over her eyes, a wide grin on her face, and was holding up one hand. At the end of her pointer finger there was a small, white flame. Who needs a blowtorch when you’re literally on fire? oOo Fury woke up to about twenty more messages. The first happened to be from an exasperated Maria and only said; Have you seen what she’s up to? The other twenty-one were all images of Carol with the probe; her pressing her cheek against that of an unimpressed Goose with it in the background, wrapping the machine in a tarp and holding it like a child, and others that were works in progress of her fiddling with wires, removing bits and replacing them with others, and one that was a picture of her reflection in the lens. A video was included and Fury watched Goose approach the probe on the tips of her toes, back in an arch, fur pointed up like a porcupine. She walked closer, slowly, each movement calculated, eyes unblinking. Each second grew longer, the video shook from silenced laughter. The machine’s lens shifted a fraction of an inch. Goose jumped a good four feet in the air and scrambled away, yowling into a corner while Carol’s laughter echoed in the background. Poor Goose, Fury wrote, heading out to his car. Watch out or she might eat it. Carol responded when he was pulling up to the SHIELD offices with a picture of her sprawled on top of what looked like some sort of sleeping bag. Her smile was half hidden behind a bright orange tail—which Carol was pretending to wear as a moustache. A paw was pressed against her cheek, claws sheathed, and Goose’s head was partially in the frame with just the tip of her tongue sticking out. She’s fine. oOo Be free, my child! Carol sent Fury with a picture of the probe being launched back into the wide open wilderness of space. You must go your own way now! Fury sighed over his supper. That’s it? He typed back. You just fixed it up and let it go? Hardly, Carol sent back. But hush. It’s a surprise. A few minutes later, he received another ‘ping’. Carol was ignited, her hair ablaze, eyes glowing with the same ferocity of two suns. She was floating in what looked like space, the cowl highlighting the soft roundness of her cheeks and the strong line of her jaw. “Oh my God, Fury,” she said in the video, a smile filled with pride and giddiness bursting across her face. “They’re going to lose their goddamn minds.” oOo A full forty-eight hours later and twenty-four images were released from what NASA was calling the ‘Remembrance Probe’.  It wasn’t Earth made and the machine itself was nowhere close to the actual solar system, but the DSN managed to catch the transmissions it was giving off anyway. It was proof, scientists said, that the human race wasn’t alone and that the universe was more wild and stranger than they could have ever imagined. Coming in clear, full colour resolution they were easily the most gorgeous pictures of space Earth had ever seen. But it wasn’t those that caught the eyes of the population. No, instead it was the four photographs that came from what must have been a security feature built into the probe’s internal shell. They were the first that arrived and the ones that held the spotlight the longest. The first one was of a woman; her face covered in a red, metallic cowl that left only the bottom half of her face visible. Blonde hair stuck out of the top like the Mohawk of an old Roman helmet and her eyes burned with an internal fire. She was dressed in what many were assuming was some sort of red, blue, and gold space suit and was leaning into the camera, head tilted in curiosity. Carol. Her body blocked most of the blurry, out of focus background, but did nothing to hide the splash of orange peeking over her shoulder. A cat. A small, orange tabby with wide, brass eyes and an unreadable tag but Fury didn’t need to read the letters to know that it was Goose. The next picture was lit by what Fury could only describe as a cheap, sh*tty flash that could only come from a disposable camera at a dark party. White light highlighted the grimace on Carol’s face and how the cowl pulled away from her features as if the edges were on fire. On her shoulder, Goose’s ears flattened and her fur was spiking up. There was something about it, though. Something that was only summed up by the third and forth pictures: Because in the third, the cowl had fallen away, leaving Carol with her shoulder length blonde hair staring into the camera like someone had just pulled a party popper in front of her face. Goose, on the other hand, had arched her back completely. Fur was spiked, teeth were bared, and her tail was up like a warning shot. It was the forth that was Nick’s favourite; because Carol was laughing. She had her hand against her abdomen while her head was thrown back, eyes closed, and mouth open. The probe had captured the exact second that shock had given away to unbridled joy. In one, swift moment, the camera had captured the beauty of the human soul in one sparking instant billions of light years away from Earth. Unfortunately, the other twenty images were swept aside for the first four, but the scientific communities around the world grasped each image with white knuckled tightness. Carol had, at some point, flown the Probe access point to access point and had let the little machine take pictures along the way. Two galaxies spinning into each other in a monstrous collision course that was taking place over millions and millions of years, a planet so massive that its rings had rings, star systems with a dozen, tiny suns spinning around each other, asteroid belts made up of glowing, shimmering rocks that looked as though they were vanishing and appearing someplace else. Each image had been purely theoretical, brought to life in the most incredible way imaginable. There were others, as well; wilder ones, terrifying ones. A creature the size of Venus swimming through the desolation of a broken solar system; a planet, boiling and brewing, looking almost alive beneath its threadbare atmosphere. But it was the last that was probably the most beautiful of all: It was a simple thing, a spiral galaxy surrounded by the darkness of space. The Milky Way. Because even in the depths of space surrounded by wonder and beauty that most people could only ever dream of, Carol Danvers had turned the probe and its lens towards home. Notes: i'm going to make a series of fics based in this universe because there is nothing i love more than children of the stars

Summary: The absence of power isn't what makes her human. It's not in her genes, or in the crest she wears on her uniform, or in the political party she votes for.       People always think it's the memories that aren't a part of her. None of them really understand, though, that the memories are the easiest part of being Rogue. Memories are just thoughts attached to images attached to feelings. Marie can absorb those, make them her own. It doesn't matter where they come from—from her own past, from someone else's. Once they're inside her, they're hers. But doesn't it get confusing? Bobby asked her once, squinting at her as if he'd already decided the answer was yes. She'd searched for words to tell him, tell him no, don't you see? Once they're in there, it's not like havin' someone else in my brain. It's all just me. But she could tell from his expression that the meaning would be lost on him. Marie also doesn't bother trying to explain to them that it's her skin that's no longer her own. She can handle the strangers in her head; she can handle the powers that shouldn't be hers. What she can't handle is the stranger that covers every inch of her body, and keeps her at arm's length from herself. * Afterwards, after needles and condemnations and dirty looks, it's like meeting an old friend after years of separation. She keeps the gloves for a few months, still scared of what might happen—what she might do—but after a season has turned and she hasn't hurt anyone, she starts to trust. Maybe she's really at home, again. She sits in the new summer sun, feeling as shy as an eleven year-old just becoming aware of her femininity. It's an appreciation she didn't have growing up, an acute self-consciousness forced upon her by image after image of pain caused by her touch. The names and faces well up behind the specks in her eyes when she glances up at the noon-day crest of light. She sighs with the wind on her skin. No needle can grant her asylum from this, from the layers of guilt that are the basis of the power she had. She's not sure she can excise it, not even one cell at a time. * She didn't do it for Bobby, but she's sure as hell ready to kill him when she catches him with Kitty. They don't even have the decency to pretend they're doing something innocent—he just looks down, unable to meet her eyes, and, really, that's all the answer she needs. She didn't do it for Bobby. But she'd be lying to herself if she tried to pretend that she hadn't thought—hadn't hoped— Well. None of that really mattered now, did it? Marie's used to being on her own. * She's ill at ease with the X-Men. They don't quite know what to do with her, anymore, and she doesn't quite know what to do with them. Logan tries to include her, come up with ways that she can be a part of the team even without her powers, but Ororo waits for no woman, and certainly no "misguided young girl who has alienated half of her classmates." She wants to tell Ororo that being able to wear a tank top and dance until her chest burns at a club doesn't make her any less a member of the team. That losing the last traces of chains around ankles and claws emerging from her knuckles doesn't make her human. The absence of power isn't what makes her human. It's not in her genes, or in the crest she wears on her uniform, or in the political party she votes for. She isn't sure yet what will make her human, or if she even wants to be. * She gravitates to other mutants, a moth to new flames. There are others who don't compare her to what she was, all the things that they think she could have been: she likes meeting someone and not seeing a hint of disappointment flicker in their eyes when she can shake their hand. They don't challenge her right to call herself Rogue. She goes to a support group, meets some others who've been cured. Marie stays quiet, for the most part, but loves to listen, absorb the stories: here, she can do that, and no one has to get hurt. And it's nice not to feel alone. * She meets Carol outside the building on a rainy Wednesday night; between closing her umbrella and juggling her backpack, Marie can hardly see where she's going, and they would have been a fast tangle of limbs on the ground if not for Carol's hand on the small of her back. I'm so sorry, she says breathlessly, straightening up. Carol's smile widens the more Marie tries to apologize, and Marie stops when she realizes that the woman's hand hasn't moved although she's completely steady on her feet now. I'm so sorry about that, she says again, swallowing, her throat dry despite the high humidity in the air. I'm not, Carol tells her, her fingers smoothing over Marie's waist when she does let go. I'm not sorry in the least. * Carol, Marie finds out later, was there for a group of her own. Joe, she explains over coffee. They told us he died in battle. It's another six meetings (at which point Marie is thoroughly tired of talking about her feelings) before she has the courage to say yes when Carol suggests a movie. Dinner takes another three, but by then, it's Marie doing the asking. * Carol's strong—stronger than anyone Marie has ever known. She let nothing stand in her way: not her father, not the instructors who told her women weren't meant to be pilots, and certainly not Ms. Marvel. Each obstacle in her life she overcame with a single-minded determination and refusal to acknowledge that anything less than victory was an option. Marie's glad she'll never have to face Carol on the opposite side of a battlefield. * Some nights, she wakes up in a cold sweat. Her dreams are vivid splashes of color—faces she's not supposed to remember, places she's never been. Her skin crawls, goosepimples rising all along her arms, but there's no cool air coming in. She keeps her window closed at night. She scratches until pale pink turns to red, until she can't feel her heart pound with the knowledge of the last time her skin felt like this, and tosses and turns well into the dawn, swatches of light showing her things she doesn't want to see. * Y'all don't think…don't think it was only temporary? She's braved the beige-and-blue meeting room again, gloves bunched nervously in her hands, knees locked tightly together. It's the question she refused to ask those first few months, sure she already knew the answer. But a room full of heads shake at her, and Mrs. Hertzfeld tells her it's completely normal to still feel ghost sensations. Like phantom limbs, she tells Marie, patting her comfortingly on the hand, give them time and they'll go away. * I don't know what to tell ya, kid. Logan neatly slices the apple in half, eating one-half of the green fruit with a decisive clench of his jaw. If Hank couldn't find anything, why're ya still worryin'? Marie shrugs, her chin resting in her palm. He offers her the other half, and shows no fear when her fingertips brush his knuckles. Then again, he never has. It's why she likes him, and why she'll never completely trust him. * I don't think it's safe, she tells Carol, looking out the window so that she doesn't have to see the effect of her words. She's seen more than her share of disappointment and pain for one lifetime. At least this time it's for the best. But Carol's strength, the same strength she admired, refuses to hear her. Carol's hands are sure, and they know all the places that Marie—that Rogue—can't say no to, those places that she's still getting re-acquainted with, the ones Carol has helped her make home again. Carol tells her that Marie doesn't have the right to make this choice for her, and Marie knows she's right. And she finds she can't say no when her body says yes. Even now, she's the weaker of the two. * She's known all along that Carol has precognition—it's the excuse Carol used to take her on dizzying flights through the city, barely dodging buildings and trees in a mad aerial roller coaster ride. I sense immediate danger and avoid it, Carol said, with her cocky fighter-pilot's smile. I won't let anything happen to you, love. And she didn't. Every flight, they landed unscathed. Marie hadn't seen Carol's pre-cognition as it was happening, but she recognizes it immediately, even before her skin screams out with a thousand pricking needles bursting up from under the surface, even before she collapses against Carol in a helpless throe of joint-wracking pain. Carol looks at her, takes Marie's face in her hands; her eyes tremble, glaze slightly, and she just has time to whisper this my gift before the world goes white and Marie stops being Marie and Rogue is born into a world of searing agony and power. So much power. Carol hadn't lied to her: every flight, Marie lands unscathed. But in their last one, skin to skin, it's only Marie who lands, and Carol who keeps flying, aware of the danger, and shooting straight up into the white-hot glare of the sun. * Rogue knows hospitals. She knows the sound of heart monitors, the squeak of sneakers on linoleum when the uninjured party standing at the bedside can't stand to look anywhere else. She went into County General a young girl unready to face the consequences of actions she hadn't made the choice to commit, unwilling to believe that a kiss could really be responsible. She apologized through glass and didn't make it past the door until he'd been discharged. She enters New York Presbyterian three years older and lifetimes wiser, clothed from head to toe in black. She has made a vow that she will never again set foot outside without this uniform again. She recites the names to Carol, each and every one: they are a line, not a path, but a living and breathing lineage that her skin remembers. Carol's brow feels cool even through the material of the gloves; she doesn't stir when Marie's lips press down on the velvet barrier. She flies, that night, for the first time, crazy with Carol, crazy with grief, but the wind is on her skin, and then she knows, as sure as she knows the hum of power: they're all with her. There are no strangers in the map of her skin, anymore, no doubts about who she is. She is Rogue, and is everyone she has ever touched. She isn't alone. They'll always be with her. Get your own valid XHTML YouTube embed code

❅ an independent and original portrayal of my OC Eliza Crown❅ DO NOT ASK WRITER TO WRITE AS ANOTHER MUSE!    - it´s rude and disrespectful towards me, my creativity and makes me not want to write with you❅ I can fit into almost any verse out there. Just ask, and I may tell❅ both writer & muse are of age❅ strictly 𝕄𝔻ℕ𝕀 🔞, means minors are not allowed on my profile❅ story-driven RP preferred❅ no LEWD without CHEM❅ NO ageplay , raceplay , pedophila , NTR❅ don´t rush me for replies. I currently work 2 jobs and have limited free time❅ drama will NOT be toleratedWARNINGS/ before you interact:❅ dead dove / darkfic account, strictly MDNI ! ❅ There will be mentions of: blood, violence, lewd acts, war, self-harm, alcohol/ drug abuse,     physical/mentalabuse through family members, depression ect.     Don´t follow me if any of these make you feel uncomfortable.If anything I write or post makes you personally uncomfortable, please let me know in DMs.I will block/softblock people if they make me uncomfortable, and I am not obliged to owe anyone an explanation This is for my personal comfort and mental health.

𝐸𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑒𝑜𝓃The Pokemon that stuck by Dawn's side from the very beginning. Their bond is like none other!Gender:MaleAbility:TorrentMoves: ScaldRoarStealth RockIce BeamDefogHydro PumpFlash CannonGrass knotAgilityLaser FocusSubstituteIcy WindFlash CanonSurfAqua JetMetal Claw𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓻The first Pokemon that Dawn came across as a young Ralts and caught on her own! Gardevoir has been with Dawn for basically as long as Empoleon has!This is her Ace!Gender:FemaleShinyAbility:TraceHidden Ability:TelepathyMoves:PsyshockMoonblastWill-O-WispTrickHealing WishShadow BallHidden Power FireFire PunchFuture SightHealing BellLight ScreenReflectTelekinesisShadow PunchDrain PunchIce PunchThunderboltCalm MindFocus BlastDazzling Gleam𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓪𝓻This Pokemon was caught long after Dawn had gotten her first badge on her way to Eterna City as a Haunter. Through trust and developed bond. It eventually evolved into Gengar!Gender:MaleAbility:Cursed BodyMoves:Shadow BallSludge WaveIcy WindFocus BlastThunderTauntSubstituteHexWill-O-WispSludge BombShadow BombLickDark PulseShadow PunchThunder PunchIce PunchDazzling GleamHypnosisFocus BlastThunderboltDestiny Bond𝓐𝓻𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮Gender:MaleAbility:Flash FireMoves: Flare BlitzWild ChargeClose CombatExtreme SpeedFlamethrowerCrunchMorning SunProtectRoarAerial AceIron TailFlame WheelThunder FanDigSunny DayFlare Blitz𝓜𝓪𝓰𝓷𝓮𝔃𝓸𝓷𝓮Gender:MaleAbility:Magnet PullMoves:ThunderboltFlash CannonMagnet RiseTri AttackSignal BeamThunder WaveZap CannonMirror ShotMagnet BombThunder PunchDischargeLock-OnGyro BallThunder𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓶Gender:FemaleAbility:Poison HealMoves:Mach PunchSeed BombDrain PunchBullet SeedRock TombSporeSky UppercutSwords DanceSubstituteFocus PunchStone EdgeLeech SeedCounterBulk UpDrain Punch

Name - Kaðlín SnowshieldGender - FemaleRace - HumanClass - DruidType - HumanoidSize - MediumWeight - 75kgAge - Unknown, but shows little to no aging linesEyes - Right one is Sapphire Blue, Left One is Grey and BlindHair Color - Black with little grey whitePoficient Armour - Light Armour, Medium Armour, and ShieldsProficient Simple Weapons - Clubs, Daggers, Javelins, Maces, Quarterstaffs, Sickles, and SpearsProficient Martial Weapons - Glaives, Halberds, Pikes, and ScimitarsMusical Intstruments - Doesn't Know How To Play AnyFriends - Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Jaheira, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Withers, WyllRelationship - SinglePet - Owlbear Cub, She calls him Hooter~Skills Check~{Subject To Change, This Is just Basic}Dexterity (+2)Acrobatics +2Sleight Of Hand +3Stealth +2Intelligence (-1)Arcana -1History -1Investigation -1Nature +4Religion -1Wisdom (+3)Animal Handling +7Insight +7Medicine +3Perception +3Survival +7Charisma (+1)Deception +1Intimidation +1Performance +1Persuasion +5Strength (10)Dexterity (14)Constitution (14)Intelligence (8)Wisdom (17)Chrisma (12)Resistances - None; Subject to chage depending on Blessings, Status Effects, and Armour.Notable Features - Dual Wielder, Civil Militia, Human Versatillity, Opportunity Attack, Order of Nature, Overcharge, Psionice Backlash, Throwing Boost, & Wild Strike.Background - Folk HeroKaðlín Snowshield is a Champion of the common people, chellenging tyrants and monsters to protect the helpless. Saving innocents in imminent danger will make her legend grow and spread word across the lands of The Forgotten Realms. Though she a victim to the Mind Flayer parasite planted into her brain when she was captured and taken aboard a Mind Flayer Ship. Using the mysterious abilities that are awakened inside of her, she is resisting the urge and turning darkness against itself all while trying to find a cure or a way to remove the parasite permenently so she can get on with her life without the constant fear of turning into a Mind Flayer herself.

Rules 1. Please Take the time to read my profile first before starting a discussion, I will do the same for you.   2. No Random Starters, please. It is hard to get the creativity flowing without discussing a plot of some kind first.   3. RL things do happen, so sometimes I might not always be online though I will be active a lot of the time. It's just sometimes things get busy and I have to step away. Will always notify with a status post when this happens.   4. For romance to happen there must be chemistry between our characters, I prefer a long story first before going toward anything romantic.   5. I will respect you, I just ask you do the same for me.   6. Roleplaying is a Hobby of Mine, Please don't pressure me into replying quickly even if you see me online. I tend to leave things open in the background while doing something else as times. Please don't think I am ignoring you, because I am not.   7. Roleplaying and RL are kept separate, I will be willing to chat using Ooc, but nothing more then that.   8. I hope we can get along, have fun writing with each other and make wonderful stories together.

Name ~ Kaðlín Age ~ Unknown, appears to be be in her late 30's Place of birth - Norway Date of birth - December 25th Species - Were bear Bear Form - Snowy White Fur, 250 pounds, 8' Currently Living - Wherever her feet or ship takes her Addictions - Drinking, Smoking, Fighting Hair Color - Raven Black with tips fading to grayish white Eyes - Blue, She was born with a blind left eye Height - 5' Weight - 195 pounds Body - Fit with Muscles Language - Elder Furthark & English Sexuality - Straight Relationship - Single Family - Father(Deceased) Mother(Deceased) Brother(Deceased) Hermaðr Clan - She is the only one still alive Personality - Bold, Brave, Independent, Loyal, & Social(Especially when drunk)   Settings For Storylines - I can keep her in the one she is written for or I can bring her into a more Modern setting if needed, she is not limited to any one Era.   Backstory Born into the Hermaðr Clan, Kaðlín wasn't like the rest of the baby girls that were born into the Clan. Most were pretty big in size, but little Kaðlín was small. She was also had a blind eye at birth which her father thought this was a bad thing, it would be a weakness to her capabilities as an adult. He wanted her mother to throw her out to sea, but her mother protested and insisted on giving her a chance at a life. Not wanting to argue about it, her father agreed though he still thought it was a bad idea. Her mother treated her differently then most of the shield-maidens treated their daughters. She was babied and wasn't pushed into learning to fight at an early age as most were. Instead she was shown the ways of how they cooked and farmed the land as early as she learned to walk. Through observation, Kaðlín would slowly learn these skills to help the clan, but sadly she didn't get to actually do anything to help the clan.During a bad snowstorm, another clan attacked under the cover of thick falling snow. Their clan was caught off guard from this attack, her father was killed fighting against the other clan and Kaðlín's mother tried to make a run for it with her daughter in her arms. Shot with an arrow in her leg however, she wouldn't be able to go very far in the deep snow and a blood trail would lead the others right to them. Telling Kaðlín to run and not look back, the little girl did as she was told. Though it was hard for the little girl to run in such deep snow, she often found deep parts of the snow hard to traverse. She made it partly up a mountain, but used a tree for shelter as she was beginning to freeze. On the brink of death from the cold, a bear found her under the tree and carried her to a nearby cave where it was much warmer then under a tree. Along the way, the bear had accidently bit her arm and in doing this, would change the little girl's life forever. Laying with her to keep her warm, the bear was more then it seemed to be. Most bears would kill a human that went too close to their dens. Maybe this bear felt pity for the little girl and decided to help her instead. As time went on, Kaðlín ate the food that the bear gave her and she seemed to grow being fed raw meat. The bear never shifted in front of her, but this bear was a were being not a normal bear. Keeping this hidden from Kaðlín, she never knew what she had become until she was older.At the age of 18, the bear shifted in front of her and started teaching her things about the werebears. Learning all she could about them, by the time she was 28, Kaðlín left the cave and decided it was time to go back out and see the clan's village. Though when she went back, the clan that had attacked took over the remaining part of the village claiming it as their own. Angry about the loss of her clan and the village, under the cover of falling snow she managed to steal a boat along with some provisions. Sailing out onto the sea, she would seek a new place to live until she had the strength to come back and seek revenge against the clan who killed her family. Living out at sea on her ship until her late 30's, she traveled wherever her boat would take her.

Yoon BumBum is a boy who has been through a lot. Through his past of being abused by his uncle, he escaped from the toxic household of his grandmother and uncle and built a life of his own. After serving in the military, he fell in love with a man named Sangwoo. Wanting to find out more about the man named Sangwoo, Bum started scouring his social media and even broke into his apartment. What happened next, the boy could never imagine.AppearanceBlack, short, straight hairBags under eyesPale skinMalnourishedPersonalityHe is portrayed as a very nervous person who is easily overcome by fears. Some may even consider his behavior almost "tricky" since he usually exhibits a nervous demeanor. Yoonbum also typically displays subservience to Sangwoo's requests and sexual desires in general.

Preference length of writing | roleplaying:  Para, Multi Paragraph, Novella. If you do constant one liner all through the rp you're ass is gone off my friends list, no questions asked, no if's or buts about it. Not everyone is entertained by one liner constant rp responses. Those who write only one liner or Semi Para, Sorry I'm not the right connection for you.Responding To Greetings: Unless I'm friends with you from another page and I trust you completely they don't have to send me a greeting, Also please include a suggestive idea for a plot in you're greeting and please read  the about me before you send a greeting my way with a included suggestive idea for a plot in storyline please and thank you. I will not accept a I do everything and anything in response if i ask you if you have a suggestive idea for plot. If you respond with that you're ass is gone off my friends list.Storyline Discussions: I prefer to discuss though there is a small handful of friends that I will do the whole wing it without discussing, If you're not one of those small handful of friends then storyline discussion is asked and encouraged.Starters: I will send a few though doesn't mean i will send one each damn time. If you request me and expect everyone to send you the greeting because someone claims they suck at sending starters or they aren't that good at it, if you friend requested me and assumed that i would be sending the starter you're ass goes bye bye off my friends list pretty damn fast.Replies: Please don't hound or demand quick typed replies. I have more then one page, I do play playstation 4 games, Sims 4 on PC, Zelda: Breath Of The Wild ( 1st One ) On my Nintendo Switch. If you don't have patience in waiting for periods of time then let the door hit you on the way out and off my friends list. I will not be told when to respond to you and I will not  follow the whole you have this many days to respond - Flips Off- Get Over ItLove Interest: Zelda's Heart Belongs to @590538 | Link in Both, His writer is my S\O in real life, We know the difference between real life and roleplay and we are together in real life. No Multi Love Interest Storylines involving my Zelda. If you're looking for a Zelda that does Multi Love Interest Storylines, Look elsewhere. Absolute No Smut Pages If i see Mature + or Filthy in a headline they will be blocked right away. Don't like? Tough Sh*t Get Over It.

I've seen you have come this far to see the wares.  I deal with creatures of all types.  Not all are easy to come by, but for a price me and my hunters will find your exotic creature of your desires if you so wish, for a price of course.  I take no time to train or "break" these creatures they are as I find them.  I take no credit for how they behave and what they do, and know all deals are final.  I won't say you can't have more than one, and what you do with them I don't give a damn.  I get my money and you get your item.See simple, no hard rules, if I am not here when you visit, just wait I may be in another realm or world on a hunt by all business is welcome of all types.Smirks and grins.Now tell me, what creature are you looking for to fill your desires or needs today?