#lauraroleplayss

A multi muse roleplaying blog || Independent || Third person and somewhat selective || Penned by Laura || Mun is 35 years old so minors do not interact please! || central time zone || Established 2022 and revamped in 2025

Fandom ; Star Wars

Anakin couldn't sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his head in his hands as his dreams came back to him. Dreams of Padmé dying and he couldn't shake them off no matter how much he tried to. It felt like a cold hand gripped his heart. It gripped it tightly with the intention of never letting go. He already lost his mother to the Sand people. He had gotten his revenge by killing every single last one. Their cries for mercy still haunted him.

With a frusterated sigh, he rose from the bed he shared with Padmé. He hunted down his shirt. It was underneath Padmé's dress on the floor. Crumpled. He got dressed and grabbed his lightsaber before tiptoeing out of the room. He closed the door behind him carefully, not wanting to wake up Padmé.

"Hey Artoo." He greeted the droid softly as it followed him down the hall. R2 beeped questionly. Despite how tired he was, in both body and soul, he smirked. "Just couldn't sleep anymore buddy."

He tilted his head, hearing the soft sound of footsteps.

The ten year old trailed behind the two men. She had nothing on her small body but the clothes on her back. And a small headband in her hair. She looked around the living room of the mansion and then looked back at the two of them. One looked to be a very important man. Black hair. Wearing a strange set of clothes. The other a skinny young man. His hair long and he looked oddly familiar in a way. She was trying to place him in her mind.

"I can earn my keep." Reila told them quietly. "I can clean. I haven't cooked with enough stuff yet. The lady said that when I was old enough I can start doing other things to help around more."

Her brown eyes, ever so bright and curious, landed on Credence.

🌹Leave it to the blind girl to try a new spell without really knowing the proper wand strokes. A backfire was indeed in order causing her to throw herself backward and skid across the ground. A heavy smog filled the air, and small little wisps of fire lined the skid to the witch.

The most unpleasant part of it all was the smell of burning hair, some of Rose's curls were now singed. Pushing on the other female the Slytherin wasn't going to back down. She was determined.

"Lily let me go! The duel doesn't end just because I blew myself up!" The brunette's wand hand was free and outstretched as the other held her in place. Clearly, her pride was burning to right this folly despite her friend's determination to keep her safe.

Other students clearly called this an end, a defeat was still a defeat, and trying to blow up another student didn't sit well with them. Some scattered others ran to tell teachers of Rose's boldness.

"I'll make sure he's a pile of dust next time...how dare he ...HOW DARE THEY!" All would have been well, but her blood dripped with such 'evil', people did poke at the girl. She'd long since stopped crying over their teasings or assumptions now anger was the only thing that lingered.

Adrienne,

I hope this letter finds you well. I do miss being in your company and that of your children. Once this sickness passes through me and I am able to get up(with the doctor's approval. Just don't tell mama) you must bring the children to Mt. Vernon. It gets boring recovering from being in bed. And we both know I hate resting.

Love,

Eloise