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  •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅BORN A HYBRID, ACTIVATED BY FORCE! | DRABBLE # 3!Trigger Warnings: Torture, Blood.Word Count: 824•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅The day Alessa became a hybrid. It would be a day she wouldn't forget easily. It was at night, that she made her way to her Father's chambers once more. Like every night, he would summon her and every night she came before him, obediantly. Every ounce of her being, told her to run and keep running. But he was her King and Father. To disobey would cause her more pain and suffering then she wanted.She headed to the door and was grabbed by a guard who forced her into the room. He grasped her shoulders hard, squeezing them, until she winced from the pain, and then he kicked her feet until she was on her knees, before her Father, her King. He was standing by the window, looking up at the full moon. Upon hearing her and the guard enter, he turned around in his night gown and walked up to her. Grasping her by the hair harshly and pulling her head to look up at him. She gasped softly as she felt her head jerk back with force. Her mouth slightly open, as she struggled to breath. Her father grinned at her and leaned down kissing her lips softly. He had no emotion in his eyes as he leaned back and looked into her eyes.  Alessa was surprised by the kiss, it was forceful. She kept her eyes down cast, even as her father gazed down at her. Her father lifted her to her feet and forced her, with the guards help, to a table that had been placed near the opened window. He stripped her of her clothes and then tied her to the table with silver chains. The guard left the room, closing the door behind him. Her Father, then grabbed a bullwhip with sharp glass at the ends of each tentacle from his bed, and began to beat her without mercy.  Alessa shivered as the cold wind blew from the window, hitting her bare skin. The sound of a CRACK and the stinging told her that her father was now going to beat her. The whip hit her bare back, sending bolts of pain upher spine to her brain. She clenched her fists into a balls, and bit her lower lip to keep from screaming, as the blows just kept coming. The brunnette whimpered in pain and tears began to fall. A new sensation crept up to her, as the moon light hit her body, a tingling of her limps, and then the cracking and changing of her bones. Oh she thought she was going to die. Her father kept beating her throughout her first change into a dog. Once she was done changing, he put a silver collar around her neck and chained her to the table.Her dog form was lithe, white, pure white fur with red glowing eyes. She cowered underneath her father as the whip kept hitting her, causing her to bleed more. She felt the blood flowing down her back and trinkling down her legs. She whimpered in pain. She began to pant hard, shaking, growling and whimpering as she laid helplessly on the stone ground, blood now starting to surround her feet. If her father didn't stop, he would kill her. She figured that was the case though, to end her life. He never loved her nor showered her in gifts or anything. Finally her Father grabbed her by the nap of her neck and bit into her neck with his vampire fangs. Without mercy, he tore her throat open. She gurgled, as she struggled to breath. He held her for the first time in his arms, as she died. He had given her his blood, as he held her.  He laid her down in the pool of blood and sat back and waited. He told her mother of her "Death" and heard her wail in pain and suffering. Not knowing that she would be alive by the end of the week.Alessa woke up naked in a cage, still in her father's chambers. He had a human standing near-by, as he waited for her to awaken. Once he saw her awake. He let her out and ordered her to kill the human. Oh how she wanted to disobey the order. But instead she grasped the human's neck and tore into him, activating her hybrid self. Once done, her father tied her to the table and had a witch enter. The witch marked her with a blue and white owl on her right shoulder. He then let her return to her mother, a hybrid and marked forever as a servant of his. She left the room, naked, bleeding and scared. She headed to her shack and cleaned herself up as her mother was doing work for her father. once cleaned up she began the work her father wanted her to do. She wondered if she would escape her father's cruelty and hatred.•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅   template credit.

In the three weeks following the FBI's incursion upon Middletown, Maine, the citizens of the small town have turned their attention and efforts towards cleaning up and rebuilding the wanton destruction exacted upon them. The town council, comprised of Solomon White [Saruman], Merlyn Grey [Gandalf], Edward Nightingale [Elrond], Grace Goldbloom [Galadriel], and Christopher Goldbloom [Celeborn], have gathered in the town hall to discuss rebuilding efforts as well as what recourse Middletown will take upon the United States Government for their grievous overstep.As fortunes would have it, Guardian Angel's Hospital remained relatively undamaged and Leo Forrest [Legolas] has been moved there where he remains in a medically induced coma. Ever vigilant and watchful at his side is Adele Nightingale [Arwen] who has not left his side since his surgery. While Leo Forrest [Legolas] appears to be resting peacefully, his spirit wanders through Middle-Earth on a quest given to him by the White Lady, Galadriel. The Dark Lord has dispatched the Nine to find Legolas, led by the Witch-King of Angmar. who is eager to please his master after a failed attempt to turn the Lady of Light to the darkness.In the absence of her brother, Tara Forrest [Tauriel] has stepped into his shoes as Middletown's Sheriff. Her first task is into the investigation of the two attempted murders of Leo Forrest [Legolas]. The primary suspect in both attempts is none other than Mai Summers/Orton [Merenwen] who was already in custody prior to the FBI's incursion and is suspected of playing a prominent role in the second attempt. Alex Orton [Azog] has posted bail for his adopted daughter/niece who is remanded to house arrest pending her trial. As Mai Summers/Orton [Merenwen] struggles to grapple with her newfound consciousness thanks to Melanie Slovenzky [Meldainiel], Bradley Orton [Bolg] is tasked by his father, Alex Orton [Azog], with ensuring that Mai Summers/Orton [Merenwen] remains compliant with her house arrest.The tension between Trenton Forrest [Thranduil] and Alexander Orton [Azog] have reached new heights. Now that Trenton Forrest [Thranduil] has peaked beneath the veil and seen the faces of his enemies, he stands at the ready to oppose Alex Orton [Azog] who seeks to seize the opportunity to sew further chaos amongst Middletown's residents, attempting to turn against those who were entrusted to protect them from outside threats.

Waking up. Leon woke to two things. The pounding in his head and the insipid sound of something dripping nearby. From experience, he could also tell before he opened his eyes that he was hanging upside down. He bit back a groan and opened his eyes for the confirmation. And just as suspected, he was suspended off the ground. A look up confirmed that he was suspended by a rope tied around his feet. He could tell the knot had been hastily tied together so it would not take much effort to unravel if his hands were not tied behind his back as well. This was inconvenient. "I see you are awake Mr. Kennedy." A voice drawled out from the shadows. Leon could not make out anymore than a vague impression of the whites of their eyes from the shadows. So, they were afraid to reveal themselves. He filed that away. "It would appear so." He quipped back. Pain exploded across his back. Leon used his weight to try and propel himself away from whatever had struck him. Then glared back in the direction of the eyes. "You will speak with me respectfully, or my associate will strike you with the crowbar again. Do we have an understanding." The voice called from the shadows again. Rage burned in Leon. Whoever was in those shadows were only brave because he was tied up and suspended. And because they had protection with them. Whoever they were would never be able to take Leon one on one. The pain flared in his back again when he did not respond quick enough for them. "I asked if we had an understanding." He sounded like he had so much patience asking, so much calm. "Crystal clear." Leon responded. Hating the laugh that trailed out from the shadows. "Good. I am sure you are wondering why I brought you here," He said, trailing off. Leon refused to participate and ask him to continue. He just waited him out. "You see, being locked down from this latest strain of the virus, my associates and I are beginning to waste away from boredom." Leon wished he could drop the man and his "associates" in the middle of a hot zone and see how long they stayed "bored." "I promised them some entertainment. That is where you come in. You are several other agents from several other agencies have been taken. You will fight to the death and we will bet on the winners." He explained and Leon could swear he heard him clap in excitement. So, he was taken by a madman. Just what he needed. A mentally unstable kidnapper. "You will fight first, with a Biker we took who was looking for his 'old lady', his name is Deacon. You better bring your A+ game. We told him that if he killed you, he would be reunited with her." Leon watched him, giving nothing away. He would think of a way to let the man know he was being deceived. The man may not believe it. Thinking Leon was lying so he could get his own reward. But Leon would rather not have to kill a man who was only trying to reunite with his girlfriend. "And if I refuse to play your reindeer games?" He asked. He already knew the blow was coming before it did. He hissed in a breath. If he did not know better he would say the man nearly broke a rib. Even if he did though, thankfully it did not cause any real damage like a collapsed lung because he could still breath normally. "Then my friend here will torture you, up until the very moment where you lose your sanity entirely. When you are begging to fight in the ring, begging for anything to make it stop, we will let you fight. You will be so out of it, you will lose and you will lose your life. Would you not rather do as we say and have a fighting chance. . . Well as much as you can with your newly acquired injuries?" He fired back at Leon. Leon looked him in the eye as best as he could. He wished he would slip up. Just once. So he could memorize his features for later. He heard a groaning coming from somewhere else in the room. This 'Deacon' must be waking up. The pain in his back was surely a warning not to try and talk with the man. When he did not say anything else, the man in the shadows took that as a sign that he was willing to fight and smiled. Leon could see his teeth. "Get them ready and get them down to the ring by 8:00 sharp." He ordered before leaving the room. By the sound, the room had a heavy metal door. It made a clank sound at the end like something was caught in the door or jammed under the door and would hit when the door was closed or open. Leon filed that away as well. Everything could help him for later. He ducked his head and took the hit on his back when he was cut down. "You have such a light touch." Leon mocked. He took a boot to his ribs for his trouble. This man was not trying to hide from Leon. He had dirty blonde hair that looked like it had not been washed in weeks. His nose was long and pointed like a birds beak. He had a scar above his right lip. He also had a tattoo of what looked like a fox on his forearm. Leon catalogued everything before he walked away from him and towards the other man hanging upside down. He smashed 'Deacon' in his side once to wake him up. Then he gave him no warning before cutting him down. Thankfully 'Deacon' thought quickly on his feet too and managed to take the hit on his back. Leon did not hear what he said, but he heard the tone. Another boot to the ribs for the other guy. Leon was oddly proud of the man for taunting him like Leon did. That meant he was not going to go down without a fight. Leon just hoped that the man would be willing to listen to him and believe him. He would make sure they both got out of this alive. The fight. After they were both "washed" and "gotten ready" they were brought to the ring. The ring looked basically like a redone dog cage. The ground was uneven and had sand, gravel and rocks scattered. The fences were high and had barbed wire along the top. Leon assessed the rest of the cage, finding no faults he could exploit to help them escape. They were kept from each other at separate sides. They watched as men and women filed into the space. Some of the women were looking at them like they would rather jump their bones then watch them fight. Others were looking at them as though they were nothing more than animals. The men sneered and made jokes. The betting had already begun. Someone was clapping to get everyone's attention. Their face was obscured by a mask. Leon wondered if this was the mystery man from when he first woke up. "I'm glad to see everyone could make it." He called out, and it was indeed the same voice, "Place your bets now, the fight begins in ten minutes. They will fight to the death." The sounds of excitement and anticipation spread around the crowd. Leon was enraged. So, he was their entertainment?

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: Before Etain moved to Mandalore, she said that she did not like beach vacations. But after her injuries and subsequent long recovery, Darman wants to take his wife somewhere nice, for a change.   Warm sand cradled Darman’s tired back and warm sun set his skin to prickling in a way that felt luxurious. Rolling his shoulders a little, he stretched his arm where he’d propped it under Etain’s head and turned his own to face her.   If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she was asleep. Her lashes were fluttering over closed eyelids, her breathing low and even, and when he bent his head closer to place a gentle kiss on her hot forehead, she didn’t so much as smile. Better to leave her be, then; she was meditating. Early on in their relationship Darman had thought meditation had to be done sitting straight up and with as few distractions as possible, and Etain had told him she’d thought the same, but months lying on her back in bed and listening to the constant beep-beep of monitors and machines had driven her to learn a different way.   Darman’s gaze dropped to where the neckline of her swimsuit, so much lower than her typical high-necked robes (Jusik may have taken to armour with a relish but Etain never could fully leave behind the symbols of a heritage that meant so much to her), revealed faint, pulsing light. In the quiet dark of their bedroom back on Mandalore, the light, which could be seen in varying levels of intensity throughout most of her torso, filtered through her skin in an ethereal way that made Darman almost afraid to touch her for fear of shattering her. Here, surrounded by golden sunlight and white sands, the status lights looked almost natural, as if Etain was lit from sunlight from both within and without. She was beautiful like this. Radiant, Darman thought, even if she was freckling at such a rapid pace he could almost see the little brown flecks forming in real time.   Etain finally took a deep breath and opened her eyes.   “You’re beautiful like this,” Darman said aloud. He kissed her again, he couldn’t help himself. “What were you feeling?”   “Nonsense, I’m turning into a solid mass of freckles. I can feel that,” Etain said, but she smiled anyway. “It feels…right, Dar. Balanced. The ocean is terrible, I can feel the dark side in that. There’s echoes in the waves like they remember the deep parts where bones are swallowed up in darkness, and the storms where things - people, animals - were crushed against rocks and drowned.”   “Sounds horrible.”   “Yes. But there’s another side to it. The water is teeming with life, there’s so much energy to draw on it feels it could never run out. It brings life, it carries the animals where they need to go. It feeds them. That’s the light side of it, the part that nurtures and invigorates.” She brushed a few grains of sand off of Darman's belly in the motherly way she’d adopted since she’d taken their child back into her care. “We’re lying on powdered skeleton, basically, but that’s what gives new life a home.”   That was a new and somewhat nasty way of thinking about sand. Darman shifted uncomfortably; Etain must have noticed because she laughed and snuggled her head into the crook of his neck.   “That sounded more gruesome than I meant it to. I was never good at the more…philosophical aspects of the Force.”   “You are good at it. You’re just practical about your philosophy.”   Etain hummed thoughtfully.   “Maybe. I used to think people were either light or dark - good or bad. Now I think we’re all like the ocean a little bit.”   Darman picked up a handful of sand and let it fall onto her swimsuit, watching the way the tiny grains bounced and slid in the wrinkles of the fabric.   “Only a Jedi could relate to a big puddle of water.”   “Oh, Dar,” Etain said fondly. “Only you would call an entire ocean a puddle.”   “I said a big one,” Darman pointed out.   He was thinking now, though; Etain lost him sometimes with her flowery metaphors but this one was clear enough. All the people he’d met had certainly been more complicated than “good” or “bad”. Darman could barely remember how he had felt on Qiilura, back when he was shinier than his armour and looked to the Jedi and Skirata, and even the Republic, as beacons of moral goodness. Even Etain had turned out to have a “dark side”, as she put it, and not just because she had a temper.   And so had he. Maybe relationships were like the ocean, too, he thought; yes, Etain had deliberately lied to him and taken advantage of his naiveté, but had he been totally free of selfish intentions? Not really, if he was honest with himself about it. He’d taken what he wanted from her without giving her what she needed - he hadn’t even told her he loved her until he had a comm in his hand and could say the words without having to look at her while he said them. He’d wanted to marry her, but he hadn’t planned on it, for too long he’d been too scared to take the risk before he could see a way to make it work without having to give anything else up.   Etain had used him; she’d also devoted every second of her life after that to his and their child’s welfare. Darman had used her; he’d also given up every bit of stability he’d had left to be by her side. Good and bad, light and dark.   “What are you thinking about, Dar?” Etain asked.   Darman shrugged. He wasn’t as good at the metaphors, but -   “Balance - as a person - it’s a funny concept, isn’t it? Doesn’t mean it’s okay to be bad, but you have to accept the bad parts of your past, and your bad tendencies. Because you’re always going to keep adding bad things to your past, however hard you try,” He felt like he was getting rather away from the original topic and pressed on, hoping somehow he’d circle back around. “Kal always taught us we couldn’t get better at anything without first taking a good, hard look at exactly why we were mucking up. And then moving on.”   Etain nodded, lifting her head off his shoulder to look at him more fully. She looked wide-awake and eager now.   “That’s what I’ve figured out, too! My master never taught it to me that way, but I’ve learned that balancing myself looks more like forgiving myself than anything else. And taking steps to try and be better, of course, but that’s impossible in the absence of forgiveness.”   Darman sat up, pulling Etain with him. He started brushing sand off her suit and skin, and out of her hair, too, though the braids made it difficult. Perhaps she should have covered her hair like some of the other beach-goers, Darman thought, and then changed his mind immediately. His Et’ika’s hair was too pretty to be hidden when the sunlight picked out all the red and gold in it like this.   “You do forgive me, right, Dar?” Etain asked suddenly.   It was an old question at this point, and one Darman could answer without thinking.   “‘Course I do. I love you.”   “I love you, too,” Etain said, sighing a little as if in relief. “Is it time to go back to the hotel?”   “Depends. Do you want to be, ah - a solid mass of freckles?”   Gasping in mock indignation, Etain scooped up a handful of sand and threw it at him. Darman weaved, avoiding most of it, and got his arms around Etain’s waist, holding her carefully against his chest as he stood up.   “I’m not going to break, Dar,” Etain huffed.   “I know. I wish I felt more sure of it, though.”   Etain put her hands on either side of his face and leaned her forehead against his in the Mandalorian way. Darman let her put her legs around his waist and shifted his grip so he was holding onto her more comfortably; she would never him carry her bridal-style but at least he could do it like this.   “Until you are, you’ll have to trust how sure I am. And I feel much stronger today,” Etain said lightly. “You were right about ‘shore leave’, and about a warmer climate, too. This has been a lovely vacation, Dar.”   “It has,” Darman agreed. He began walking towards their rented speeder, walking very slowly and taking short steps so as to not jostle Etain. It probably looked awkward, he thought, but his wife’s comfort mattered rather more to him than his pride. “And here I was this whole time thinking you didn’t like beach vacations.”   Etain laughed and repeats her mirshmure'cya, banging their foreheads together a little in the process.   “I’d like any kind of vacation as long as you were beside me.”

THE BOYS VERSE!! ​​​​​​​Kyle Lance ( Oc )  Rudyard Ramone ( Oc )  ​​​​​​​THE ARROWVERSE!! Harry/Nash/Hr ( multimuse account )  ​​​​​​​Eobard thawne ( Canon character. ) Oliver Queen ( Canon character ) SUPERNATURAL Ozmik ( Hellhound Oc ) Lancelot ( werewolf oc ) SHERLOCK / KINGSMAN Eggsy Unwin ( Cannon/crossover ) Severin Moran ( Canon/Crossover ) DISNEY /  PIXAR Buzzlightyear ( canon muse )​​​​​​​

If you want a shoutout or for me to remember your birthday, write down your birthday here. It is not my fault if I forget.. where you have a place to let me know in advance XD

It was coming. The White Walkers and the army they brought with them. The Army of the Dead. Jon had warned everyone about it in Winterfell and they were all preparing for it. The men were getting all the weapons ready while the women had been getting all the children together. The plan from what Isabella knew was to gather into the crypts of Winterfell. However, Isabella was not fond of confined spaces. The thought of being underground was overwhelming for her, but she knew that was the only way her and her daughter would be safe. Loras would be there as well since he was not up to par to fight in the battle. The two of them traveled from Dragonstone to Winterfell with Daenerys Targaryen, and since they had been there Isabella saw Lord Baelish and his execution. Poetic Justice she thought of it.    The light was slowly diminishing as she watched them below. It was drawing closer and closer as she looked out at the treeline. Isabella stood there on the bridge as she overlooked the men below getting everything ready. Everything was being put into place on the field as she watched from above. So many thoughts were running wild in her mind as she stood there. The safety of her daughter and herself. Eleanor was with the wet nurse and the other children getting ready to go into the crypts.  She could hear the sound of footsteps behind her as she sighed. “I thought I would find you here.” Her voice was soft as she turned her head to the side and saw the redhead appearing beside her. Sansa and her formed a close friendship in King’s Landing, and since the attack by Baelish, the two were closer than ever. “The thought of being in the crypts soon is not sitting easy with me.” Isabella confessed as she sighed. Her hands wrapped around the wooden posts that she had been leaning against. “I know, it is not with me either. But Isabella, we will be safe there. Your daughter and the other children are being taken there now.” Sansa said softly, turning to face her friend. “I do hope you are right about this.” Isabella said, turning to her side to face Sansa.    The soft light from the candles along the stone walls seemed ominous to her. As if she were walking to her own funeral. Isabella saw Eleanor over in a corner with some of the other children as their minds were being occupied by a children's story that was being told to them. Looking around, she could feel the heavy weight on her chest as she felt as if everything around her was beginning to close in on her. Her vision was getting blurry and black around the corners as if she was focused on something. Walking over to where Sansa was, Isabella sat down as she saw Eleanor coming over to her. “Are you okay?” Sansa asked softly as Isabella nodded, but lied. Eleanor sat down with her in her lap and cuddled up to her. It was going to be a long night, but she had to find something to entertain her thoughts if she wanted to stay sane during this battle.   

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From my vanity, surrounded by pink and floral excess that felt more oppressive than comforting, his presence was both an intrusion and a solace. The room, a shrine to a version of Betty that everyone else celebrated, suddenly felt alien with him peering in.His gaze was weighty, brimming with concern that seemed to pierce through the glass, reaching out to the part of me that's been concealed beneath layers of cheer and charm. The Betty that he perceived wasn't the girl with the high ponytail and the flawless smile but the one grappling with shadows that threatened to spill over into the daylight."Why now?" I pondered, pressing my fingertips against the cool glass, leaving a trace of my breath. The memory of this morning's breakfast loomed over me, where words were weapons and glances were shields. His sudden appearance was reckless, yet here he was, silently vowing not to let me face my battles alone.My mother's sharp words echoed earlier, warning me of the dangers of vulnerability and letting someone see the cracks. But as I met his eyes through the window, those warnings crumbled. It was clear he saw beyond the facade, recognizing the grief that I wore like an ill-fitting garment.The gentle tap on the glass snapped me out of my racing thoughts, the kind that only seemed to spiral deeper into darkness as I contemplated Polly's plight. As I turned to the window, a slight smile broke through the turmoil at the sight of him. It was him, always him, who managed to bring a sense of normalcy—or perhaps bearable chaos—to my life. "Hey there, Juliet," he greeted, a playful lightness in his voice that belied the gravity of everything we faced.I moved quickly, almost too eagerly, to slide the window open, welcoming the escape from my own suffocating thoughts. "Nurse off duty?" he joked, stepping awkwardly onto the ledge, his attempt at ease almost endearing. I couldn’t help but smile back despite the ache in my chest when I thought of Polly, trapped and alone.“Haven’t gone full Yellow Wallpaper on me yet, have you?” His words, though teasing, touched a nerve. The reference to descent into madness wasn’t too far off from how I felt these days, haunted by what I’d seen at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy.“No, not yet,” I responded, my voice lighter than I felt. "But give it time; the walls in here are starting to close in." I stepped aside, giving him room to make his way fully into the room clumsily. His presence, as always, seemed to fill the space with a different energy, one that pushed back against the pressing gloom.I paced back and forth, my thoughts racing as fast as my footsteps. "They're crazy," I muttered, the words like a broken record in my mind. My parents, Polly, this whole twisted situation—it was all spiraling out of control. The more I thought about Polly locked away, the more I felt the walls of sanity crumbling around me."No, but what if Polly is, too?" The question escaped my lips before I could rein it in. My shoulders hunched up to my ears, a physical manifestation of my anxiety. The memory of Polly's haunted eyes and the desperation in her voice flooded back, fueling my fears. "The way she was talking to me, the way she looked at me..." It was all too much."And now, all I can think is, 'maybe I'm crazy like they are.'" The words tasted bitter; the idea that I could inherit that same madness was terrifying. I continued to pace, feeling trapped in an endless loop of worry and dread. As I turned to face him, he met my stance, his hand comforting on my shoulder. "Hey!" His voice broke through my panic, a solid, grounding force in the chaos of my thoughts. I rolled my eyes, a reflex to push away the concern, but deep down, I was grateful for his presence."We're all crazy." His eyes locked onto mine, his resolve clear. The simplicity of his statement was strangely comforting. He hated to see me like this, and I hated feeling so powerless.He sighed and chuckled lightly, trying to lift the mood. "We're not our parents, Betty." His words were a lifeline, a reminder of a truth I clung to desperately. "Thank God, or I'd be an alcoholic Southside Serpent, and you would be a lying sociopath. We're not our families." His attempt to lighten the atmosphere didn't go unnoticed, and despite everything, a small smile tugged at my lips.I felt the tension in my body begin to ease as he spoke. It was true—we weren't destined to become our parents. We had the power to choose differently, to forge our own paths. As he continued to speak,The moment stretched between us, thick with unsaid words and raw emotions. I watched him, my heart thumping irregularly as he struggled to find his words. His eyes darted between mine, a mix of hesitation and something deeper, something perhaps even he couldn't name."What?" I asked again, my curiosity piqued by his nervous energy. The slight arch of my brow was instinctual, accompanied by a slight smile that I hoped would ease his tension. It was a smile that had disarmed many, but now, it was a shield, protecting both my heart and his.The way he looked at me, so intensely yet so vulnerably, charged the air around us. His gaze had a gravity that pulled at something deep within me—a longing for connection and understanding that went beyond the usual confines of teenage angst and family dramas."Also..." he started again, his voice trailing off as if catching on a snag of doubt. My smile faltered slightly, replaced by a breath of anticipation. What was he trying to say? What was he so afraid to express?At that moment, I realized how much we indeed mirrored each other. Here he was, struggling to vocalize his thoughts and his fears, just as I often battled with my own. We were two sides of the same coin—wrestling with our identities, our histories, and the thin line between love and pain that our families had so carelessly drawn.His hesitance made him all the more endearing, all the more real. It shattered any remnants of the illusion that we were different because of where we came from—the pristine facade of the Coopers versus the raw, unfiltered life of the Southside. We were both damaged in our ways, both trying to navigate a world that seemed set against us from the start.Deep down in that space, I felt a profound sense that she knew what it was, filled with his nervous energy and my anxious heart. It didn't matter what he said next; the fact that he was here, that he was trying—that was enough to bridge any gap between us. His presence, his effort to connect despite the chaos that swirled around us, was a balm to the scars we both carried.The warmth of his hands on my neck, the gentle pressure of his thumbs against my cheeks, pulled me into a reality I had only dared to dream of. As his lips met mine, a cascade of emotions flooded through me, each one more intense and terrifying than the last. His kiss was a revelation, soft yet insistent, and it awakened a longing I had suppressed for too long.As we kissed, my hand found its way to his shoulder, a gesture of both support and need. My heart raced, echoing his, a tumultuous rhythm that seemed to say, this is right, this is where you belong. I had feared so many things at that moment—the rejection, the confusion, possibly the end of something precious. But as he drew me closer, my fears dissipated, replaced by a courage I didn't know I possessed.Leaning into him, into the kiss, was like accepting a part of myself I had been afraid to acknowledge. It felt like a gentle yet profound awakening to something new, something inevitably beautiful. It was as if all the pieces of my tumultuous life were aligning, bringing me to this point of unexpected yet perfect clarity.The thought flitted through my mind as we slowly, reluctantly, began to part—a lull in the storm of emotions that had engulfed us.Our noses touched lightly as we pulled away, his hands still framing my face with a tenderness that made my heart swell. The room was silent except for our breathing, heavy with the weight of what had just happened. Then, as I opened my eyes to look at him, a sudden realization struck me—the car! I had forgotten the responsibility of waiting outside in all the chaos of our emotions and the turmoil of family dramas."The car!" I exclaimed, the words tumbling out in a rush. The shift from our intimate moment to the practical concern might have seemed abrupt, but it grounded us, tethering our newfound connection to the realities we still had to face. As I looked into his eyes, still close enough to feel his breath, I saw not just the boy from the wrong side of town but someone who had seen me at my most vulnerable and still stepped forward, someone who shared not just my fears, but now my hopes too.The shift from our intimate moment to a sudden surge of urgency was jarring but not unexpected—not with everything on the line. As he looked at me with a mix of amusement and disbelief, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for disrupting the rare peace we had found in each other's arms. His hand fell from my face as I moved away, caught up in the implications of what Polly had mentioned."No! Polly talked about a car Jason had stashed for them down Route 40 near some sign??" I tried to explain, my words tumbling out hastily as I paced towards the window, glancing outside as if I could see the solution waiting for us in the darkness. The reality of Jason's mysterious car could be a breakthrough, a piece of the puzzle that had eluded us, potentially vindicating Polly or plunging us deeper into the labyrinth of the town’s secrets."If we can find it, we can confirm Polly’s story." I turned back to him, my determination setting in. My investigative drive continuously surged to the forefront in times like this, overpowering even the most personal moments. I could see the realization settling in his eyes; he knew this was how it had to be, at least for now."One way or another," he echoed, his voice firm, yet there was a hint of something else—perhaps disappointment. I knew this wasn't what he wanted—to be pulled back into another mystery just when we'd found a moment's respite in each other's company.I can’t say I wasn’t bothered that this took precedence over our moment, but this was Betty. That thought echoed in my mind, reminding me painfully of the balancing act I was constantly engaged in—between the person I wanted to be for him and the responsibilities that seemed to claim me time and again.As I eyed him with an empowering and burdensome resolve, I understood the conflict within him. It was a reflection of my own. Here he was, standing in my room, a witness to the chaos that was my life, choosing to stay when it would have been easier to step back. His willingness to dive into the depths with me, to face whatever horrors or truths we might uncover together, only deepened the affection I felt for him, tangled as it was with the complexities of our lives.“This is important,” I finally said, meeting his eyes. “Not just for Polly, but for all of us.” I reached out, touching his arm gently, a silent plea for understanding. “Thank you for being here, for being part of this, even when it’s messy.”When I spoke his nickname, the urgency in my voice softened a stark contrast to the enthusiasm of our earlier conversation. "I need to know, Juggie." The word lingered between us, familiar yet weighted with a new significance. His nickname, a term of endearment that only I used, seemed to draw a line around us, enclosing us in our own little world amidst the chaos.His eyes met mine, searching for affirmation. I could see the slight hesitation, the readiness to jump into whatever mess we were about to uncover, tempered by a concern for what it might do to us. The sweetness in my voice wasn't just for reassurance—it was a reminder of the bond we shared that went beyond Riverdale's mysteries and darkness.As he stammered out his agreement, "Then let’s go," it was more than just a commitment to follow Polly's clue—it was a pledge to stick by each other, no matter what we found.My heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and dread. The investigation was a path fraught with unknowns, but having him by my side made it bearable, even empowering. The way he said, "Let’s go," wasn’t just about setting out to find a car; it was about moving forward together, tackling whatever challenges lay ahead with a united front.As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support. His presence was a constant in my life, a steady force amid the ever-changing tides. The nickname 'Juggie' was a small thing, but it symbolized so much more—it was about intimacy, trust, and a shared history that only we understood."I’m glad you’re here," I said quietly as we gathered our things, my hand brushing his arm lightly. "Really, I am." The smile he gave me then was all the reassurance I needed. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slowToo swift arrives as tardy as too slow

you can always in roleplays torture, kill, kidnap, ruin Felix in anyway you want to. So don't hold back on the torture or anything else you want to do with him

Hey there! I'm Celia Rae Foot. It's good to makeyour aquaintence. I'm a really nice gal from SugarDitch Mississippi, and moved to Jackson when I gotmarried. Anyway, I'm not as bad as Hilly Hollbrooksays. Just thought I'd come down to say hey! Anddon't worry this pie is just a regular apple pie if ya'dlike a slice. My maid is a great cook! Hope to hearfrom ya soon. 

Somehow, someway Rowena had found herself as the only person in Hartsville. Everyone else had vanished. Just poof, and gone. Rowena was going to have a lot of fun with this. Rowena walked through town in a very small bikini, one that definitely shouldn’t have been on her body. She was chugging from a bottle of bourbon, and nobody could say a damn thing. She played rock music from her phone obnoxiously loud before heading into Buck Wild. She got up on the platform and began dancing seductively to an empty room. This was something her brothers would never allow if they were around. But they weren’t so they couldn’t do a damn thing. After a while she went behind the bar and made different cocktails for herself, adding extra alcohol simply because she could. There was no sticking to measures here. She went into the office and changed the background of the computer to some ridiculous looking dog in a hat. She then went to her brothers placed and moved everything around, so he would be extremely confused when he got back. She then did the same to Rebecca’s place. Just a little harmless fun. 

If you have read the rules and signed them accordingly, then please fill out the audition for and send it back the completed for to us via messages, if you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us via message and the staff will get back to you when they are available.   OOC Questions: How long have you been roleplaying in general? Have you ever been a part of the twilight verse before? Rate your activity level between 1 - 10 (10 being the highest) this does not affect our audition in any way: For you What is the most important part of being in an RPG?: Have you seen the all the movies? :Have you read all the books?:Are you in any RPG's at the moment, if so which ones?: IC Questions ​​​​​Name of Character: Playby: Age of Character: Species: Please give a brief explanation of your character, in your own words:Please provide a sample with a minium of 3 well written paragraphs, this must be in the character you are auditioning for unless otherwise stated. 

The Last Person In Hartsville Bowie woke up early like she always did and went for a run with her dog Baxter. Hardly anyone was ever around when she went for a run. People enjoyed their sleep far too much to be up before the sun. She normally ran into a couple of people though, early rising workers starting their day. Only today she hadn’t seen them. She just assumed they were sick. After her run she returned home and showered and got herself ready. She made a coffee and some breakfast and turned on the news channel but she was met with a black screen. Bowie was extremely confused. The weather girl was normally doing the local weather somewhere in Hartsville, but not today. Bowie figured there must be a problem with the channel and shrugged it off and went to work. As she was driving through town it was very quiet, eerily quiet. There was nobody. “How is this possible?” She asked herself. Getting out of her car she tried different establishments but everything was locked and not a single person was inside. It was the same with the cafe. Bowie tried calling her friends but nothing. She went to the hospital and nobody was there. Now that wasn’t possible. Returning home she sat at the table with a glass of bourbon, thinking over everything. None of this could be real. What if it was some stupid joke... it wasn’t April 1st... but it still could be. “Ah screw it” Bowie said to herself. Bowie removed her clothes and walked back into town. The supermarket was still open so she walked through the supermarket and did her shopping. Drinking from the carton and eating things as she went around. She didn’t pay, bagged everything up and went on her way. Next up was skinny dipping in the lake, before a stroll through the park.