#I am so paranoid I am going to be keeping a weapon on me at all times when outside

[derpinette]

as soon as i want to relax i start thinking about how vulnerable my vitals are

[sadfraudfrogs]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[caputvulpinum]

this might seem dumb and i promise im being genuine here. im just kind of fucking stupid and i would appreciate a little reassurance if you have the time

am i a bad person for not being able to reclaim queer?

i have a lot of trauma with the word and people using it for me without my consent is really triggering. my abusers used it and other words as slurs while they were hurting me. ive been trying really hard to get over it, i promise, but when it's used against me i still like... have panic attacks and flashbacks. other people using it for themselves doesn't do that to me, it's just when it's used toward me.

does not being comfortable with it being used on me make me a TERF? in the past people have taken "please don't call me queer" as "nobody should ever use that word" and even though im trans, theyve told me it's TERFy not to use it? i absolutely support other people reclaiming it and i really am trying to get over myself, but the panic attacks keep happening and now i'm paranoid that im a bad person for not being able to use it

I think the biggest frustration I have with this whole thing is that a narrative has been created where people would tell you yes, Anon, that you are a TERF and so on. And that's just not the case.

Even beyond the fact that words mean things and TERF doesn't just mean "transphobia on tumblr", the fact is that there are always going to be people whose experiences with a word will never be able to be reconciled. I've said throughout this whole thing: Every word we have ever had for ourselves is a slur, because they have all, always, been used as slurs against us.

And what I mean with that is not just "So fighting against queer as a term is therefore transphobic for this and other reasons".

What I also mean is "We need to be aware that there will never be a perfect word. There will never be a word which has been harmless. There is no point in trying to invent new terminologies to escape ongoing oppression, because those terminologies will just be used against us in the same way all others are."

Anon, you aren't a bad person for having traumatic experiences with being called a slur. The idea of that is ridiculous, and I'm as sorry you've been made to feel that way as I am angry at the people who said that to you. Barely better than your traumatizers if at all, all of them.

But I want you to also hear what I am telling you. You have faced experiences which were traumatic for you. This word is one which is a weapon that can always be used against you, right now, and it will never miss its mark. Traumas do not exist in a vacuum: you can't let it keep festering in you.

Because it's like I kept saying as well...if you allow your oppressors to have the language that can harm you, they will use it. Queer is a word you can't use for yourself right now. That's okay. You are not a bad person for that. But traumas can't go untreated. I'd recommend looking into mental health resources for LGBTQ+ people in your area. Therapy works. At its most basic level, therapy would give you the vocabulary you need to express how this is a trauma of yours, and might even be vocabulary which better helps you understand why it remains so harmful for you. I hope for your sake that you can one day make a decision for yourself on this word that isn't being controlled on a traumatic level for you, even if the decision you make is "I still don't like it for me". Hell, especially if that's the decision you make. What matters, Anon, is that you decide what words you want for yourself, and not the people who traumatized you deciding for you.

[rhodesrider]

Special Princess

Mafia!Roman R. x Little!Black!Fem! Reader

Warning: mentions of violence, mentions of weapons, age regression, affirmations, praise

Minors! DNI! 18+

~

In the car, Y/N was criss cross on the seat watching different gameplays on her iPad while teething on her toy silent in the back, Roman was humming the bluey theme song while driving which gave some looks from solo and jimmy. Worried about him keeping his reputation up for a while now they wondered that if it’s mostly Y/Ns fault. I mean Roman is suppose to be this big bad mob boss, controlling the territory and keeping things under control with an iron fist. Instead, he balances work with his girlfriend who acts like a child. She doesn’t dress like the other women Roman has messed with, when they would wear night dresses and show as much skin as they want, Y/N just wears hoodies or overalls. Long sleeve shirts or short sleeve but overalls and sneakers not heels. It worried them that Y/N was probably a bad influence on Roman their boss.

“Hey Ro, when we get back to the house can we talk in private?” Solo asked as he was in the back with jimmy nodding at him planning the convo in their head. “Hm? Sure man. Oh do me a favor and tap Y/N when I pull over?” He nodded and looked at her examining her again. A child. A child in a grown woman’s body. He never understood it and nether has jimmy. But they don’t question it because it’s their bosses girl. After they pulled over to the stop they were doing the drop off, solo did as told getting Y/Ns attention making her jump some looking around. She took off her headphones taking in her surroundings looking directly at Roman as he opened the door. “Sweetie I’ll be back with the boys ok?” He asked in a calm sweet tone as solo and jimmy got out, “Stay here with mr.heymen.” He ordered and she nodded getting a kiss on her forehead. She waved at Paul sweetly and he waved back watching them go in the building. She started looking around every inch of the buildings and corners of the area and went back on her tablet drawing a picture for Roman. Sending it straight to him.

“Hey boss man you know we never question you…” Jimmy started getting a bit impatient needing to know why this girl is with them. “Sounds like you are about to question me thou.” He looked at jimmy slightly. Jimmy just shut it down and looked around the warehouse building. “Why they wanted to meet us here?” “I am not sure but keep ya eyes peeled.” They nodded. Roman looked at him phone seeing the photo Y/N drew and texted her “Thank you princess.” Soon hearing the other doors open the meeting is starting. Showing to the meeting was mister Ziggler and his bodyguards, simple transaction. Roman smirked seeing the briefcases behind him as well. “Mister Reigns, how are we today?” Dolph asked. “Good, I’m glad we were able to get some more supply. Especially from a trusted source.” Roman smiled. “Likewise, so ready for the wire transfer?” Dolph asked quick being money hungry but Roman looked at him not born yesterday. “Go on and put some product on the table, solo examine it.” Dolph smirked. “You don’t trust me big man-“ “I don’t bring snipers to my transfers. Especially ones that are ready at the mark.” He smiled as Dolph was starting to turn pale. Jimmy and Solo were confused, they couldn’t see out the window but were looking around outside not seeing a set up anywhere. “You got paranoid last time we met Roman-“ “Not the slightest.” He smirked. “Now let’s check that material.”

After the transaction, they walked out the building untouched. Jimmy and solo still had the guns out. “Put them away, she doesn’t like seeing that mess sometimes.” He warned them and they nodded following orders. They filled the back with the briefcases and Roman checked on Y/N seeing her in the same spot watching bluey sucking on her thumb some. “Hey we talked about that pretty girl, where is it?” She shrugged her shoulders. Roman went in her bag and pulled out a box with a fresh pacifier. He slowly removed her thumb making her pout but gave her the paci as she was calm again. “That’s my girl.” She giggled from the kisses he gave all over her face and went to the front to drive. The boys got back in looking at Y/N again getting a weird feeling now but let it go till they got to the house.

Later that night, the boys sat in the office to finally talk to Roman about this. “So y’all wanted to talk?” They look to the side seeing Y/N in a giant pink play tent in her own little world watching tv and coloring. “Well it’s about…um…it’s about her.” Jimmy said finally pointing at the tent. Roman looked to the side where the tent was then at the boys, “About her? How do? Also she had a name. Don’t be afraid to say it.” Roman said looking through his phone some. “Look we know Y/N is yo girl and we respect her but-“ “But?” Roman asked surprised that solo was questioning him as well. “-why doesn’t she act normal?” By the time this was asked, Y/Ns headphones were off and she listened in. A bit hurt by their questions making her think she did something wrong. “Well y’all she’s been through a lot, she does this to cope, this is her therapy. I will admit that I was a bit worried about it as well, but I support her no matter what.” Jimmy nodded his head in understanding. Solo was still a bit worried. “What about your image sir?” “My image is fine. She doesn’t affect my imagine.” Roman said paying full attention now. “For all know she’s more help then you both ever was.” He was starting to get mad with all the questions. Y/N didn’t like the look on their faces, so she sighed getting out the tent and going over. “Baby we talking go back to your tent.” Roman asked low but still a bit pissed which scared her some but stood her ground. “I’m sorry that I’m hurt your image, I can just stop if you want. To help a bit better…” Roman’s look softened and he sighed, “Baby you’re always big help.” Jimmy and solo looked at each other, how and she’s always in the car? “Remember that nice picture you gave me?” She nodded and went to get her book she drew in showing the picture. Solo looked at it and recognized it some. “Those buildings…” “Yea there were people looking at birds up top so I drew them too!” She giggled. It hit Jimmy and solo so fast looking at the photo again seeing the truck parked and the other building they were in to do the transaction.

“That’s how you knew.” They both said in unison.

Roman knew about the snipers because of the drawing she drew, matter of fact she always draws something and shows Roman when he’s in meetings and other functions. She’s technically doing a perimeter check. “Yep my little artist helps me like that.” “And other ways…” she mumbled. “Oh right, we didn’t see anyone when we were escorting you out back to the car-“ Jimmy stopped and looked at Y/N who was smirking some evilly. “Ain’t no way.” “I was trying to find a bathroom.” She smiled. What really happened was she went in the building and handled the snipers so they wouldn’t be ready to shoot. Solo remembered Dolph trying to contact the snipers but no answer came their way of course. “So you just lil miss killer?” “You worry about yourself next time please.” She hissed. Her eyes from a lightly playful brown to a dark evil black made it clear that what her lifestyle was is her choice. Roman choose right, he smirked and was honestly proud. But what he noticed was she was out of her headspace. “Go take it up to the bedroom princess, we can watch a movie tonight if you want.” She nodded trying to calm from her sudden anger and walked away going to the master bedroom. “Wow…” Jimmy said never seeing that outta her. “Did you know Paul?!” They turned to him while he was in the corner the whole time. “I had no idea.” He smiled and went back on his phone. The brothers looked a bit dumbfounded and Roman just sighed. “I appreciate yall worrying about me and my image because my image is y’all image, but I assure you as yall saw. We will be fine.” They both nodded and left the room leaving Roman in a smirk. “I know what I’m doing.”

Roman got into the bedroom seeing that the anger got Y/N tuckered out. She was sleep hugging a pillow and the tv was on My little pony. Roman got ready for bed and as soon as Y/N could smell his body spray she cuddled up on him smiling. He smiled as well and kissed her forehead. “I love you so much baby girl, I’m sorry they questioned you. Never change ok?” She nodded half sleep and Roman turned off the lamp light drifting to sleep.

[chronicroderick]

Old Games

Hannibal has been manipulative because he's bored and provokes Will into taking matters into his own hands.

Shameless Smut, Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, Consensual Violence, Blood Kink, Knife Kink, Scarification, Canon Typical Toxicity, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Wound Fingering, Post-Fall

Old Games on Ao3

-----

Will was beating the shit out of him, and God, was Hannibal rock hard. This was no fantasy, though there had been many times when it was. This was real, flesh on flesh, knuckles digging into his cheek bones, causing his teeth to clack with each blow. How strong Will was. How resilient those hands were. That was the only thing going through his mind as he tasted his own blood in his mouth.

Hannibal had been more shrewd than usual lately. Picking at Will, second guessing him, even when it was not necessary. Was he sure that he could pick the freshest vegetables from the grocery store? Did he turn the water off completely after washing his face before bed? Was every one of his little mongrel dogs accounted for or did he leave one outside? Will had never forgotten one of his pets, but there was ‘a first time for everything’. Besides his contrariness, the two men had lived the closest thing to domestic bliss that either one of them had ever experienced, even before the fall.

Here they were, off the coast of some Greek island – Will wanted to settle somewhere that was new to the both of them – in a home built from the ground up. It was adobe, white to match the local buildings, set a great distance from any other living soul on a modest cut of land. They had a fenced in garden, expansive, and they had dogs. They would occasionally take day trips to the large islands and scout for new sources of meat. Will went fishing almost every morning and Hannibal would join him, sitting on the shore, reading a book, every now and then glancing up from his page to gaze at his lover who floated far away on his canoe. They should be happy. He didn’t feel happy. He felt bored.

So here he was, flat on his back, Will sitting on his stomach, while those strong fisherman’s hands smashed his face to a bloody pulp. The flames of pain caressed him, cut through him, searing in the cut on his eyebrow now, down into his skull and his brain. A tightness twisting low in his gut. What had he said? Oh, yes.

“Where else would I go?” Will had piped up while Hannibal was chopping carrots.

“What was that, my love?”

“Don’t ‘my love’, me, Hannibal.”

He was only Hannibal when he had done something wrong.

“You think I’m afraid you wish to be somewhere else. You betrayed the FBI for me, Will. We have killed together. We ran away together. As far as I am concerned we are an inseparable pair and I do not understand why you are so paranoid about these things.”

Will stood from where he leaned against the island in the middle of the room and walked up next to him, one hip against the counter and arms crossed over his chest. Hannibal stilled his hands and looked at Will with a warm smile that he knew would infuriate him.

Will frowned, “If you keep playing the fool I’m going to lose my temper.”

A thrill ran down Hannibal’s spine at the threat. At a degree in which he had not felt in a very long time.

“What part do you wish me to play then?” He tilted his head, smile still on his face, fingers curling ever so slightly tighter around the chef’s knife.

Will narrowed his eyes, purposefully keeping them off of the weapon, those ocean blue rings raging darkly behind his glasses. He was so beautiful when he was angry. So stimulating.

“You’ve been toying lately. Undermining me. Eroding.”

This was dangerous territory. Before Hannibal had started picking at Will’s scabs, they had had many heartfelt conversations, one of which included the brunette expressing his fear that his thoughts and actions were not his own, even after all this time. He had soothed him then. He did not feel like soothing him now.

“You speak of me like some spurned housewife.”

“You don’t deny it.” There was an edge to Will’s voice.

“What reason would I have to do such a thing? We are long past the game of cat and mouse,” He turned away, chopping the rest of the carrot, with a dismissive tone, “really, you’re quite the by product of your post traumatic stress, you should quit—”

“Don’t.” Will interpreted, and Hannibal could almost hear his knuckles creak as he formed a fist.

He smiled to himself, knowing full well how it would be interpreted, “Being so paranoid, my love.”

To say the blow came out of nowhere would be a lie, but he had underestimated the hatred behind it, fueling its power, as it caught him across the side of the face. It gave him a headache immediately, Hannibal instinctually switching his grip on the knife, blade pointed down, but Will knew him well. He could feel the calluses against his forearm as his wrist was smashed into the stone countertop with enough force to send shooting nerve pain up his arm, the knife falling from his hand.

Hannibal growled, half anger at being surprised and half pleasure, his other hand coming up to grab Will by the throat, fingers digging into the sides of his neck and pushing the man backwards until his back slammed against the refrigerator. Will’s left hand still held Hannibal’s arm, but his right arm came up, elbow crashing down on Hannibal’s arm, breaking his grip on the other man’s throat. He was feral, unpredictable and blind to the admiration in Hannibal’s gaze as he threw all of his weight into his shoulder and lunged like a football player, tackling Hannibal to the ground.

His head hit the wood floor with a hard knock, dazing him slightly, but his lover did not let the moment go to waste. He felt the weight of Will on his stomach, knees pinning down his out flung arms as they painfully crushed his elbows. His nose crunched with the second punch that was thrown his way, the third surely would have broken it as well, were it not already broken. Will was saying something, something hard to make out over the sound of the blood rushing in Hannibal’s ears and the ringing of his head injury.

“... paranoid. After all those years of manipulating me. Here I am. Here I am.”

Planting his feet, he attempted to buck Will off him, giving himself a chance to roll over, but the moment his weight shifted, he got a swift blow to the eye socket. It was mean enough to cut his eyebrow open, blood pooling at the corner of his eye like a great well of tears, and sloppy enough that it could have caused serious optic damage. The severity of the situation dawned on him. His cock twitched.

“Will –”

There was no reply, only another blow to the face. They rained down on him now, one after the other. He did not fight, did not even struggle. He took in a ragged breath, smothered with arousal, determined to take in every detail of this moment with all five senses. All of Will’s pain and rage washed over him. He could feel the way his skin tore apart, ragged, under the force of Will’s hands. It was delicious to know that he was the cause of such strong emotions. He could hear Will’s heavy breathing, hitching slightly when he exerted himself. It was him, Hannibal, that had so much influence in Will’s life. No one else. He smiled, his lip split in two places, and it felt like being cut with a razor blade as the skin stretched over his teeth. His brown eyes twinkled up at Will, taking in the sight of his bloody knuckles, unsure if it was just his blood. Hoping it was both of theirs. The idea blew his pupils wide. Will’s features darkened and he grabbed Hannibal by the collar of his shirt, before bashing his head into the floor over and over.

“I gave up everything for you! You don’t get to play games anymore.”

He was disappointed that Will had not positioned himself on his lap, for his cock stood at full attention, the inside of his boxers damp with a spot of precum. How ruthless his lover was. Hannibal wished to grind himself against him, while those well trained hands gripped him by the hair, guiding his lucid head to look up. There was a constant throbbing in the back of his skull, his hair plastered to his head with a thick, wet warmth. The kitchen stank of blood, or maybe it was just everything that was pouring out of his nose. When he saw Will’s hard features searching his face, he was filled with a sense of certainty that this was what their victims saw before death overtook them, and need cut through him. Will’s eyes narrowed, which was no surprise, he could read Hannibal like no other.

“You’re hard right now.” He stated disapprovingly.

“I am.” Hannibal replied, blood staining his teeth pink as he smiled.

“You’re not mad at me,” Will blinked once.

“I am not.”

When Will only silently leaned back, removing the weight of his knees from Hannibal’s elbows, he was afraid their altercation would yield no sexual satisfaction.

“Mylimasis,” He whispered, flecks of his blood spraying across Will’s face as he spoke, “do you not find the spark of our old games as exciting as I do?”

Will scoffed, but the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, “You goaded me because you miss getting off to our rivalry?”

“I miss when you were not a domestic animal, Will Graham.”

He could not hide the truth of his words, dismay hitting him like a freight train as he saw the way they made Will’s face twist. As he opened his mouth to explain himself, a hand closed over it, smelling strongly of sweat and blood.

“Not a word.” Will said monotonically.

When he was sure Hannibal would not speak, he removed it, and scooted his hips backwards until he sat right on top of Hannibal’s clothed dick. This made him sigh, the pressure bringing relief, but in return Will slapped him hard enough to turn his cheek red. He gave Will a surprised look and the other man only frowned.

“No sounds either.”

They could both feel the way Hannibal’s cock twitched against Will’s ass. He nodded, just barely, maintaining searing eye contact with Will who was cold as ice. Will began moving his hips back and forth, grinding down on Hannibal who bucked his hips up against him eagerly. He needed to feel more, so much more. His nose ached, the pain pulsing out into the rest of his face as his heartbeat quickened. Will’s hard on was evident, the outline of it visible against his pants, Hannibal eyed it hungrily. His tongue dashed out, wetting his lips, playing over the cuts on them, as he watched Will’s body move above his. He looked glorious, all dark curls and severe jawline, his skin coral and cream as he palmed himself over his clothes. His blue eyes caught sight of the ministrations of Hannibal’s tongue and he leaned down, their dicks rubbing together as he licked one of the cut’s on Hannibal’s lips. The sensation made Hannibal’s hole clench, his eyes fluttered shut as Will lapped up the blood from the second cut. He hissed when he felt Will’s teeth sink into his lip, fresh blood flooding his mouth from the open wound, and because he made a noise Will bit harder, creating puncture wounds and ripping it open more. Will ground his cock against Hannibal, relentlessly dry humping as he kissed him. All Hannibal could taste was his own blood, it was electric, swirling around his mouth on the vessel of Will’s tongue. Will’s lips tasted metallic, soft yet unyielding, Hannibal licked at the back of his teeth, rubbing his tongue over the other man’s with a clear desperation. Will pulled back, got off of his lap, then undid his belt.

Hannibal followed suit, shoving his pants down without a word, his cock springing free. Will didn’t look at him, he only tugged his own pants and underwear off over his shoes, and flung them to the side. Hannibal felt like his excitement was visible to the naked eye, the way the scent of his blood flooded his senses, his skull pounding in time with the rushing in his veins, the thick swallow he had to take every couple seconds, it all stoked his desire, the object of which now crouched over him, hovering just above his aching cock. He looked down at himself, saw how stiff his dick was, flushed pink, thick and sure to spread Will open like many times before. He almost whined like a dog when his lover gently lowered himself, his hole squeezing his tip over and over, precum slicking the entrance. Then the sensation was gone, Will was standing over him now, looking down with that cutting gaze.

“Will?” Hannibal protested the lack of contact.

Shaking his head, Will’s hand wandered the counter, in search of something out of Hannibal’s line of sight.

“You want the delight of carnage. I'll oblige.”

The blade of a knife glinted in the sunlight that came through the window as Will inspected it, surely for Hannibal’s benefit. It was lean, one they often used to filet seafood. His cock jerked and he wiggled his loosened front tooth with his tongue.

“It seems you almost knocked my tooth out, my love.” He tried to hide the elation in his voice as he once again spoke out of turn.

Will fell to his knees, straddling Hannibal once again, their bare dicks rubbing together as he worked the tip of the knife into the small crevice of tender flesh between his collarbone and his shoulder. Hannibal closed his eyes, clenching his teeth in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He tried not to think about the hole that was cut in his shirt. Will twisted the knife as if he was lazily trying to start a fire, tearing more fabric and skin. It made his head spin. When he did not respond, Will pushed slightly harder, until a half inch of stainless steel was inside him. He could feel the warmth of his blood welling up around the tip. Felt the warmth of it pooling into his clothes.

“You could cause serious nerve damage if you're unfamiliar with what you're attempting.” Hannibal chimed clinically.

“Enjoying being a brat, are we?” Will purred, gently pulling the blade towards him, cutting Hannibal at such a slow pace it was ripping more than slicing.

The blue eyed man hummed happily as Hannibal bucked his hips, their cocks sliding over one another, his precum wetting his own happy trail. Will moved on, tracing the knife lightly over Hannibal’s chest, poking and prodding every now and then until he settled just below his belly button. Hannibal watched the entire time, never taking his eyes off those brilliant hands as Will gripped the hem of his shirt and cut it in one long go right up the middle, as if he was being gutted. The fabric fell open, revealing his chest and stomach that already had a few red marks, and Will pushed it out of the way, ghosting his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair. He rubbed his hips teasingly, cock brushing back and forth against Hannibal’s, resting all his weight on the hand in the center of the older man’s chest. Holding him down. Hannibal could feel his heartbeat thumping against Will’s palm. With the knife in the crook of the L of his thumb and forefinger, directly over Hannibal’s heart, Will applied pressure, the sharp bite of which bloomed outwards.

“Put it in.” It wasn't a demand or a question, it was like Will was observing the weather or their horoscopes.

He was more than happy to obey, grabbing hold of himself, resisting the urge to pump his cock, and lined it up with Will’s hole. Not a moment after his tip brushed the man’s ass did his lover sit himself onto it, slowly taking his cock, never taking his eyes off Hannibal’s face nor the knife off his chest. Instead, the more length he took, the deeper he drove the blade into Hannibal’s sternum. It was overwhelming.

“Penetrating me as I penetrate you?” He quipped. This was all part of it. Will knew he could never resist a chance to prove he would be willing to take things further than Will would.

In response Will cut into him. It wasn't hesitant or jerky, it was almost surgical. Deep enough for blood to spill immediately, but shallow enough that Hannibal was not afraid for his life. It hurt, it made him tense involuntarily as the knife made its way down his chest, leaving a burning crimson trail behind. All while his cock was slowly buried to the hilt inside the other man. He groaned, not trying to be a smartass, as Will began moving up and down, but was punished for his transgression anyways when the knife sunk deeper. The scarring would be unavoidable at this point. Hannibal ground his teeth together to keep from speaking, grabbed Will by the hips and helped him ride faster. His dick was being squeezed so tight, pumping in and out of Will’s hole as he watched the brunette’s cock bounce with every thrust. He pounded up into Will, hips snapping against the bottom of his ass. His passion made the work of the knife unsteady, dipping deeper and shallower with no design at all, the line Will was creating winding ever so slightly like a river down to just above his belly button. Hannibal could feel drops of blood cascading down his belly towards his ribs. Will moaned above him, clenching down on his dick, then ran two shaky fingers up the wound he had just inflicted, never slowing down, Hannibal violent in his thrusts that made every curl on Will’s head bob.

Will brought the two fingers up to his pink lips, dark pupils trained on Hannibal’s face as Will sucked on his middle and index finger. He pulled them out clean, except for the faint ring of red that was like lipstick around the second knuckles. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed with lust and he grabbed the hilt of the knife in Will’s hand, at first the other man resisted letting go, but when he slowed down in his thrusts, emphasizing his sincerity, Will relented. Hannibal took the weapon slowly out of his lover’s hand, Will was doing all the work with his hips now, and the salt and pepper haired man turned the blade on himself, tip pressed firmly to his stomach. With a small smile and a slow blink, jittery from the heat engulfing his dick, he stuck the end in his abdomen, somewhere he knew wouldn't be vital if he had gone deep enough for that to even matter. It made him gasp and he was so close to the edge now, but he wasn't finished. Hannibal dropped the knife, grabbed Will's hand firmly, splayed out his fingers, then pushed one of them greedily inside the wound. It made him shudder, meeting the pace of Will’s hips now, feeling the tip of his finger inside the cut sent stripes of ecstasy straight to his dick. Pumping himself in and out of Will, while Will pushed his finger deeper into his skin, Hannibal stroked the man’s cock, admiring the slight bend in it and the feeling of precum slicking the inside of his hand. Both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat and blood on the kitchen floor. He felt like an animal. He felt alive.

“This is what you wanted?” Will asked, words punctuated by small gasps.

Hannibal nodded, racing to the end, all fervor and fire. Slamming up into his Will. His Will. He would bleed only for this man. He would hold all of his beloved 's rage. He was made to bear any pain his lover put his way. Hannibal’s thoughts were becoming less linear. Will was panting, surely his legs burned, his dick twitching in Hannibal’s uncoordinated grasp, until finally he came. Seed shot onto Hannibal’s chest, mingling with his blood. The feeling made Hannibal climax too, unloading inside Will with a stifled moan. He couldn't take it. He sat up without thinking, grabbed Will behind the shoulders and sank his teeth into the crook of his neck. Will cried out, but didn't push him away. He bit deeper, Will’s hole milking his cock of every last drop of cum, his wounds throbbing and burning and flooding his body, his lover’s cum making a warm, slow trail down his stomach into the deep cuts. He might need stitches. Biting deeper. Will would be bruised. They'd have to set his nose. He did not break the brunette's delicate skin.

They sat like that on the floor, Hannibal’s teeth in his neck, Will’s trembling thighs straddling his waist. Hannibal pulled back, still ensnaring Will in his grasp and looked into his eyes. They seemed bright, normal, better than the storm he had cultivated for the last few weeks. He kissed his nose and brought him into a hug. Will sighed and rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. Their breathing slowed. Their heartbeats turned to normal, almost in sync. It would be enough. It already was.

-----

I am so incredibly upset because I couldn't find the gif of fantasy Hannibal smiling on the ground as Will beats him :'( EDIT: I FOUND IT YAHOO

[gold-rhine]

For the ask game :tell me why you love nuevi or kaeya! Feel free to talk A Lot I like your long posts

i also love reading my long posts, i wish i wrote them more asdfghjk its hard for me to just talk unspecifically about character without like pointed theme bc to me it feels like everything is obvious and everyone understands same things, why am i spelling it out.

anyway, KAEYA. my prettiest cursed princess. noble daughter of the fallen aristocratic family with generational curse coded. jon snow AND daenerys targaryen vibes at the same time. why noble daughter? bc instead of how heirs of nobles are kept close and taught to rule, his family treats him like pawn, like currency, his fate determined at his birth with no agency, sent away to another family he has to fit in. he's not a bastard, but he is half blood, and he cannot return. he's brother to diluc, but not equal, no matter how much they get along, like jon to robb stark. dawn winery is not his home, he's only welcomed conditionally, when diluc allows it. told to be "last hope", but what he's last hope of is a rotting cursed shambles of hubris. but even with how badly he was treated, he's still torn with loyalty to them, with duty, he still tried to ran away to khaenriah as a kid, just like dany wants to go to westeros. terrible prophecy hangs over him and he knows it. we don't even know if alberichs were really regents or if clothar is just delusional and sees himself forming abyss order as "regency"! he wants to walk off the stage, but he can't. and even if he could, he won't, not in the end, because against his will he still cares about people left on that stage who do not know what they are in

and he's coping with all of that by not letting people close even though he's lonely bc that curse and prophecies hang over him, bc he learnt from diluc he will not be accepted unconditionally no matter how loyal he is, no matter how good of a friend and brother he is, no matter how much punishments he takes for diluc and how he follows him like a shadow. he tried so hard to be a perfect child in dawn winery, polite and sweet and it didn't matter in the end. and now he's hating himself for secrecy and underhanded ways he was forced into as a child and deeming himself bad, finding ways to blame himself even for doing good deeds bc he's such a manipulator, treating relationships as transactions of favors to keep score, to keep in control.

mask worn for long, it grew into him and is impossible to take off now. "and they say my charm is fake" he IS naturally charming, he just had to learn to use it as a weapon. he IS sweet and interested in people, he just had to learn to get profit out of it. the worst thing he could be is himself. sad adult with a fake smile. and at the same time he's proud, he's talented, he's funny and sarcastic, he likes goofy jokes and slipping clever metaphors into silly stories, he likes writing books for people he cares about with advises on how to solve problems and deal with people, and also likes telling stories and can improvise a monologue on a stage. he should have been an actor and a writer, but duty to one father threw him into mond and duty to the other locked him into knights, so now he's just miserable, he's a hedonist, a cynic, he can't have real connections, so he will take pleasure and attention and use it for his greater means, he's coping with substance abuse, but he is so paranoid he will not be caught actually drunk bc that's weakness. he wants to belong so much, but think he's not allowed to. traveler finding him in the shadows after he tries to leave community event HE organized and dragging his reluctant ass by hand is THE theme for them tbh.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Pine Bluff Variant (5x18)

The tires on August Bremer’s Taurus rub along the curb as the car creeps to a stop. Lamplight beaming from the entryway of Hegal Place shines down on an injured Agent Mulder climbing the steps to his apartment. Mulder winces as he opens the door with his left hand held aloft, the pinky finger bent sideways at a sharp, unnatural angle. 

August shakes his head. Haley’s New Spartans goon is a sadistic piece of work. Finding the perfect moment to remove that asshole can’t come soon enough. 

Flicking the switch on the listening device, August points the red laser at the window of apartment 42, puts his headphones on and listens for the truth. 

“…what you’re talking about,” Agent Mulder says to someone — someone already waiting in his darkened apartment. 

“What happened to your hand?” August knows the soft, concerned voice belongs to Agent Scully, Mulder’s redheaded partner who risked her own life running after him in the park. August saw the fear for her partner drain the pink from her pretty face all the way from the getaway car. 

“Nothing,” Mulder lies. Badly.

“Oh, Mulder, what did they do to you?” she tsks. “God, this needs to be set. You’re in pain.”

“Yeah, if you keep pulling it around like that.” The man’s a smart ass even while doted upon.  

“Let’s get the swelling down.”

Choosing the greenish hued light emanating from Mulder’s apartment to focus on, August ruminates on the reason they’ve all been pulled into this clusterfuck to begin with.

Classified orders to develop a recalled bioweapon in secret were given directly to the army from the US Government. Instructing August to keep evolving the banned toxin, hastening it along. Cultivating a variant of a biological agent to become one of the most deadly bioweapons in the world sure as hell wasn’t August’s idea. But what could he do as a Pine Bluff stationed soldier, eager to use his biochemistry degree? Saying no to the CIA was never an option. So as years passed, August and his team analyzed chemical compositions to carefully create an aerosol version of a flesh-eating streptococcus compound capable of casualties nothing short of devastation. 

And he hates himself for it.

“Why do this to you, Mulder?”

“They’re testing me, too. Haley’s paranoid. Spooked. I was sure he was going to kill me.”

Sending Mulder on the inside with Haley was a risky test he could have easily failed. But that won’t be Mulder’s only test of trustworthiness. August knows Mulder’s involvement in this is a set up — just another pawn for the CIA’s own selfish means. Mulder’s strong opinions on the withholding of governmental secrets is the perfect way to kill two troublesome birds with one bio-weaponized stone. Now, August must be certain Mulder hasn’t flipped sides and become one with the terrorists he’s dutifully warned the bureau about. A final test to pass in order to be saved.

Agent Scully exhales. Her relief that he’s still alive is as loud as her concern. “What stopped him?”

“They still need something from me. And I’m sensing there’s someone Haley trusts even less — the man giving him his orders. Someone I haven’t met yet. A guy named August Bremer.”

Mulder’s right. August had created an alias to go behind the New Spartans’ back by leaking information to the bureau, and Haley will know the truth soon enough. Time is of the essence. If this militia isn’t stopped before the bioweapon spreads, millions may die horrific deaths. 

August just has to kill off the New Spartans without killing himself, too. 

“I hate that they hurt you,” Agent Scully murmurs. “You need to be cautious from here on out.”

“Always am,” Mulder quips, before gasping in pain. “Ouch! Okay, I will be. Scout’s honor.”

She scoffs, “You’re no Boy Scout, Mulder.”

“Yeah, Haley didn’t seem to think so either.”

“Not funny.” August hears the playful lilt in her tone vanish as quick as it came. “Let me get my med kit from your bathroom.”

Only the sounds of footsteps and Mulder’s heavy sighs fill the void until Agent Scully returns. 

“Scully, before, on the tape… You didn’t think I’d really…”

“Betray our country? No, Mulder, I refused to believe that.”

“Betray you.”

Even through the padded earpieces, August hears her breath catch. “Mulder…”

“Because I wouldn’t — I’d never, Scully,” Mulder says adamantly. “Never.”

“I know. I know that, Mulder.” August can imagine her hand reassuringly covering his. “You were doing your job. You didn’t have a choice in keeping it from me.” 

“It doesn’t make it any easier. For either of us.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

Silence stretches for a long time. Nothing but the crinkle of med-grade wrappers and the burbling of water from what sounds like a fish tank drifts through the headphones. August may be on the outside listening in, but he can practically feel the tension from here.

“Scully…”

“The swelling’s lessened. Luckily it’s a clean break.”

“Hey,” Mulder’s voice is soft, gentle. “Look at me.”

“Hold still while I splint your finger.”

“Scully-”

“This is dangerous, Mulder,” she huffs, her words wavering. “Extremely so. It worries me we’re separated on this.”

“Believe me, Scully, I’m not a fan either.” The clack of the metal finger splint tapping against wood has Agent Scully humming in agreement. “But I’d be lying if I said I’m not relieved you’re nowhere near a man that breaks bones for a living.”

“So who has your back, then? Skinner can only do so much and I’m not sure I trust the CIA agent in charge here.”

“You have my back, Scully. You do, and you’re the only one I trust. Remember?” There’s a smile laced within Mulder’s meaningful plea, and August nods in respect. Only a good man appreciates what keeps him that way. 

“I could hardly forget.”

August clicks off the listening device with a smile of admiration. Some truths are better left unheard. 

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@monikafilefan

[wild-karrde]

In Command - Part 15

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: As always, thank you to the wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me! You are TRULY THE BEST TJ!!

Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: canon-typical violence, graphic description of injury, language

Word Count: 6.2k words

The night breeze gently whispered in through the curtains in Senna’s office, seemingly peaceful despite the quiet chaos erupting inside. 

Senna had changed into clothes meant for travel and was currently working on backing up all of the data they’d gathered, transferring files from her holocomputer onto her datapad while simultaneously breaking down any and all hardware that she could. It had shattered her heart to disassemble the comm node she’d spent so much time on for the conference, but they were operating under the assumption that their dwelling would be searched, and the comm node would only serve as a clue as to what they’d been doing on Lothal. 

Exhaustion was starting to weigh her down, but the memory of Fisk’s triumphant smirk haunted her, driving her forward. 

He can’t win. I can’t let him. 

She was also still fuming at Rex. He’d been certain that waiting for leadership to send a pick-up was the correct move, seemingly fearful that if they ran, it’d confirm Fisk’s suspicions and give him a reason to pursue them. But every second that ticked by seemed to wind Senna more tightly. Between every breath, she could feel herself bracing for a detonator to go off outside or for a squad of stormtroopers to kick in the door. It felt as though she was in a trash compactor, and the walls were steadily closing in around them. 

In order to settle her mind, she started inventorying her go-bag yet again. The first week they were on Lothal, Rex had walked her through what to pack in it, just in case they ever needed to make a hasty escape. Back then, they’d still somewhat been at odds. He’d been annoyed, thinking she wasn’t taking it seriously enough. In reality, she had thought he was being a bit paranoid this early on in their posting, but more than anything, she was teasing him for sport. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she tucked her favorite spanner wrench into the side of the bag. 

“You’re packing too many tools. A go-bag should only be essentials.” 

“A good wrench is essential, Captain. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one that feels right in your hand? Plus this one has an extra joint that allows me to manipulate it in tight spaces and–”

“Fine. You can keep the spanner wrench. But then you can’t take your welder.” 

“I’m taking the welder. And you’re more than welcome to try and stop me. But in my experience, they can also be used as weapons. So, you know, at your own risk.” 

She could still hear Rex’s frustrated sigh echoing in that moment, and something in her chest clenched. 

Things were so different then.

Her fingers absently traced the patch over her blaster wound on her abdomen again. She wasn’t certain if it was because Fisk had pressed into it or just the knowledge that it was what had given them away, but it had been throbbing steadily ever since they’d returned home, reminding her it was there. It made concentrating on anything for too long difficult. 

Satisfied that she was as prepared as she could be, her eyes roamed over the room one more time. It looked closer to the way it had been prior to Empire Day, with parts and random hardware covering nearly every inch of the floor aside from a narrow trail she’d left clear to and from the door. Despite the night being unseasonably cool, she could feel sweat trickling down her back in between her shoulder blades, leaving an uncomfortably damp spot on the back of her shirt. She could hear Rex shuffling around downstairs, occasionally banging something closed or swearing under his breath. 

He’s just as nervous as I am. Even if he’s trying to pretend he’s not.

Flexing her fingers, Senna glanced over at the holocomputer’s display. It still had a few more minutes before the back-up was complete. She searched her mental checklist for anything else she could possibly do while she waited, anything to distract her from her fraying nerves. She’d been so busy worrying about everything else, she hadn’t had much time to even dwell on the fact that each second that ticked away was depleting the amount of time she had left with Rex. Senna violently shook her head. 

You can worry about that after you both get out of here alive and without being captured. 

She sighed forcefully, trying to dispel the sudden tightness in her chest.

There’ll be time to grieve what you lost later. 

Burying her face in her hands, Senna unleashed a shuddering breath. 

Nothing to do but wait. 

It had been a long time since she’d attempted to meditate, but as she continued to struggle to calm her mind, she tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling. 

It’s what Master Ti would recommend, even though she knew I hated it. 

That thought made the corner of her lips quirk slightly. She’d complained about meditation so much as a padawan, but her master had been patient. 

“I can hear you thinking, Senna.” 

She popped an eye open to sneak a glance at her master. The Togruta’s eyes were still closed, but her mouth was turned upwards in a knowing smile. Even sitting on the floor next to her padawan, Shaak Ti had an inexplicable grace about her, an elegance even in her simple Jedi robes that intimidated Senna and left her in awe. 

“What are you designing this time?” Shaak Ti asked.

“Not designing. Optimizing,” Senna mumbled.

Her master chuckled. “Do you think it will not still be there when we’re done?”

“No, but I’ll maybe have a solution then, so I can fix it right away.” 

Shaak Ti’s sharp, bright eyes had opened then, gazing at her padawan. “Meditation is meant to be when you commune with the Force, Senna. It’s when you connect to the living things around you.” 

Senna rubbed her face in frustration. “But to me, a ship is a living thing. So is all tech, droids especially. Things that come to life in the palm of my hand. All it takes is power. The electrical kind,” she clarified. 

Her master’s smile didn’t falter as she studied her padawan. “That may be, but the way you commune with those living things is very different from how we connect with the Force. Isn’t it?” 

The young padawan considered it for a moment before nodding slowly. “I guess that’s true.” 

“And would you also agree it’s important to connect with both forms of life if you wish to be a Jedi?”

Senna shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not as good at the other connections. With people.”

“I don’t think that’s true. You’re quite skilled at tapping into a living being’s mental state. Your gift first manifested as an extreme empathy, is that not so?”

“It is,” the young girl conceded. “But people are hard. Even if I can feel how they feel, I still don’t always understand them. I don’t always do the right things or respond the right way.” She picked at a fingernail. “Machines and tech make more sense.” 

Master Ti nodded. “You do excel with tech. There is no question of that. But while all of us excel at different things, does that mean that we should back away from the things that challenge us?” 

Senna huffed a sigh. “I guess not.” 

The Togruta Jedi master smiled. “And since when have you ever backed down from a challenge?” 

The padawan met her master’s gaze and returned her smile. 

Shaak Ti’s eyes crinkled as her smile deepened. 

“Now, let’s try again.” 

Back on Lothal, Senna hugged her arms around herself as she basked in the memory. She missed her master. Most former padawans were still able to access their masters throughout their life, seeking additional guidance or advice when it was needed. But that was a privilege Senna and every other Jedi had been robbed of with Order 66. She would never walk with her master in the temple gardens again, would never share a cup of tea with her. 

But what better way to honor her than to use what she was able to teach me? 

Senna reached for the carved wooden box on her desk, exhaling slowly as her fingers traced the patterns on the outside. 

It’s time. 

Before she could overthink it, she undid the latch, flipping the lid open. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her lightsaber. The memories of Kashyyyk felt as though they were looming, but she squeezed her eyes shut, banishing them to the back of her mind. 

No more. Not tonight. 

Her hand was trembling as she reached for the familiar hilt, and she clenched her fist to steady herself, exhaling sharply through her nose. 

Not tonight.

Her fingers wrapped around the lightsaber, and she lifted it out of the box. The weight felt right in her palm, as if she’d been born to hold this weapon. In a sense, she supposed that was true. Her finger found the switch, and she clicked it on. The blade fizzled to life, casting the entire room in a sheen of light blue. The hum was so familiar and comforting, it almost made Senna cry. She released a breath she hadn't realized she’d been holding as she rotated her wrist, slowly moving the blade in a slow curve. Already, she could feel the warmth of the Force reaching out towards her tentatively, tendrils hoping to embrace her if she’d only allow them to. Closing her eyes, she reached back. 

It still didn’t come easily. The static feeling was still present, and she furrowed her brows in concentration, reaching harder. 

Something’s still holding you back.

Senna powered down the blade, huffing in frustration. She blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes, staring down at the hilt in her hand. In the back of her mind, she could almost hear her master’s warm chuckle once more. She laughed softly to herself. 

Maybe it’s time to give some meditation a try. If nothing else, to amuse my master, wherever she is now. 

Clearing a space on the floor, she sat cross-legged and placed her lightsaber on the floor in front of her, closing her eyes and trying to calm her racing mind. Gradually, she slowed her breathing and reached out once more, searching for the last remnants of the wall she’d placed between herself and the Force to see if she could disassemble it. It had been arduous to put in place a year ago, but necessary. Now, she tried not to grow impatient and frustrated as she reached out blindly. 

It’s not a screw to be loosened or a panel to be removed. It’s not that simple. It wasn’t supposed to be. 

The Force surrounded her, but it felt as though every time she reached towards it, it danced just out of reach. 

What do you fear? 

The question popped into her mind unbidden, in her own voice. Her eyes snapped open. 

“Is it fear?” she asked herself softly.

Nothing in the room stirred. 

What is there to fear? 

It wasn’t hard to come up with a fairly extensive list with minimal thought. 

Not being able to connect anymore. Not in the way I did before. It opens me up to danger. It endangers Rex. 

There it is. 

Senna huffed, rubbing her hands over her face.  

But once we leave Lothal, you won’t have Rex. You’ll just have yourself. 

And that will have to be enough. 

She was tired of running from her past, tired of mourning a life she’d lost. 

It’s time. 

Closing her eyes again, Senna reached out once more. 

Let go.

She felt the life around her, the plants, Rex continuing to move about downstairs…

Wait.

And at least two dozen beings outside of the dwelling, heartbeats accelerating with every passing second. 

 No. 

She gasped and her eyes snapped open. Steadying her breathing, she reached out through the Force again. 

Kriff. 

Senna scrambled from her sitting position, creeping to the window and peeling back a sliver of curtain. Both of the Lothal moons were high in the sky, illuminating the street below. She scanned the courtyard and saw nothing out of place, but when her eyes landed beyond the outer wall of the compound, she caught the unmistakable glint of stormtrooper helmets, crouching just behind the wall, pulses hammering under plastoid. 

It’s only been a few hours. We should have had more time. 

She ducked back against the wall, carefully closing the window and allowing the curtain to fall back into place. Anger and frustration surged through her as she ground the heels of her palms into her eyes. 

Think. 

A soft chime caught her attention, and she saw that the back-up had finished on the computer. 

You’ve got to move. 

She disconnected her datapad with shaking hands before scrambling to snatch her commlink off of the desk. 

“Rex, you there?” she whispered frantically. 

“What is it?” Even through the commlink, his voice was tight. She couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or stress or something else, but right now, she didn’t have time to examine it.

Senna held the commlink to her lips as she tried to shove the datapad into her go-bag with one hand. 

“Keep your voice down. Imps are outside. We’ve got to go now.”

She could practically feel the shift in his voice, the captain re-emerging to command the situation. 

“How many?”

The datapad slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. She swore under her breath before finally managing to shove it into the main pocket of the bag, zipping it closed. 

“Roughly a dozen waiting just outside the perimeter wall. I’m not sure what they’re waiting on, but they’re going to be coming any second. Fisk must have more pull than we thought. I’m done backing up and breaking down except for the computer, but we’ve got to go.”

“You got your blaster up there with you?” he asked. 

She grabbed the weapon off of the floor where she’d kicked it earlier, slipping it into a holster on her hip before she swiped her lightsaber up and clipped it to her belt. 

Only as a last resort.

“I’m armed. Just need to grab my jacket and I’m good.” 

“Alright. Don’t forget to take the detonator when you go.”

They had rigged the house to blow in case they needed a diversion, and it had the added bonus of destroying the holocomputer Senna hadn’t had time to disassemble. It was intended to be another last resort, only drawing that much attention if there were no other options, but tonight, it felt as if any alternatives were quickly disappearing, and they’d need any advantage to get out unscathed. Senna strode over to the holocomputer, punching in a full-system wipe command. She knew she wouldn’t have time to wait and see if it completed.

Her comm crackled to life in her hand again as she carefully removed the detonator from its hiding place in her desk drawer and slipped it into her pocket. “I don’t know if they’ve got us surrounded all the way, but they’ve definitely got at least two squadrons. I see another group coming around the back corner of the house.” Rex’s voice was still steady, a comforting even tone.

“That’ll be the other dozen,” she muttered, her heart beginning to thud in her chest. “Great.” 

Slipping her jacket on, she pulled her bag over her shoulders and picked her way out of the room, glancing back one more time at the place that had been her workshop for the last several months. A pang of sadness settled into her chest, and she tapped the doorframe in farewell. 

Thanks for everything. 

Rex’s voice on the comm interrupted her sentiments. “Is the speeder bike working?” 

“Yeah, it should be good. Have they noticed it yet?” she whispered back into her comm.

“Doesn’t look like it. They’re bypassing the shed and heading straight for the back door.”

She thought for a moment. “They may not know it’s ours since it's detached. If you come up here, we should be able to climb out my bedroom window, and maybe sneak across the roof and drop down by the shed. The roof slants towards the street, so if we stay low enough, we might be able to get over there without being seen.”

He didn’t argue with her this time. “Alright, be right there.”

Senna made her way down the hall on tiptoe, patting her pockets and belt one last time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. 

Blaster. Lightsaber. Datapad. 

A few seconds later, Rex materialized at her bedroom door, handing her his pack to hold while he pulled his cloak on. She searched his eyes and found the same urgency she felt reflected back at her, but there was also an assuredness that brought her comfort. Rex knew what he was doing, and he was going to execute everything as precisely as he could. It reassured her slightly. 

No wonder he got a command so fast.

Quickly and quietly, they snuck through her bedroom, trying their best to not even allow a floorboard to creak. Their breathing sounded incredibly loud, only drowned out by the sound of Senna’s blood pounding in her ears. Rex crouched by the window, peeking out carefully, and she quietly followed suit, bracing one hand on his back as she peered over his shoulder. He stiffened, but didn’t say anything. 

From their vantage point, they could see the second squad of stormtroopers sneaking into the back yard, blasters trained on the rear entrance of the dwelling. 

“No Fisk,” she whispered into Rex’s ear. 

“Did you see him out front?” 

“No.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not here. Keep your head on a swivel.” 

Senna nodded, swallowing hard. Rex turned, and she flushed with embarrassment at the realization that he must have heard her nervous gulp, but he reached back, gripping her knee and giving it a squeeze. 

“We’re going to be fine,” he whispered. “Just keep your trigger finger tight and stay close.” He met her eyes and gave her a tight smile. Senna grabbed his hand, squeezing it back. 

“Will do.” 

He paused. “Also, you were right. I’m sorry.”

She stared at him for a moment before breaking into a stifled snicker. “I’ll be sure to gloat at a more appropriate time.”

He huffed. 

Senna patted his shoulder gently. “Even I didn’t think they’d get here this fast, Rex. We’d be in the same spot either way.” 

She wasn’t sure if her words comforted him at all, but he gave her a stiff nod. 

Carefully, Rex eased the window open that led onto the roof. The cool night air tickled Senna’s cheeks, and she shivered involuntarily. Neither squadron had entered the dwelling yet, and briefly, Senna wondered what they were waiting for. 

It doesn’t matter. Just get moving.

Rex pulled himself onto the roof, crouching low and reaching a hand back to Senna to help her out. The tiles were uneven and slippery, and it took another painstaking moment for Senna’s boot to find purchase. She reached back to close the window, but Rex gripped her arm, shaking his head. 

Leave it, he mouthed. 

She nodded, and the two of them flattened themselves against the roof. The tiles dug into Senna’s knees, hips, and elbows with a biting cold, but she ignored it, following Rex’s lead as he slowly began crawling forward towards the outer wall. Every clink of the tile or shuffle of their clothes sent adrenaline dumping into Senna’s system, making her even more certain they were about to be discovered. 

About halfway across the roof, they heard the blast of a detonator as the doors of their dwelling were breached. A few seconds later, the sound of shouting filled the house.

Rex pushed himself to his feet, reaching down to pull Senna up as well. “Better hurry,” he whispered. They ducked low, picking their way across the treacherous tiles as quickly as they could.

Suddenly, blaster fire erupted from the window behind them. A bolt whizzed close enough by Senna’s face that she could feel the heat from it. 

“There they are! Blast them!”

Rex swung around, pushing Senna behind him as he raised his blaster. She fumbled for the gun at her hip just as Rex’s foot slipped, and Senna heard him grunt as he lost his balance. She gripped his waist, trying to steady him, and his fingers locked around her forearm. He had just barely regained his footing when a stormtrooper ducked through the window and took aim at him. Time slowed down as Senna watched two bolts erupt from the muzzle of the E-11, one striking Rex in his right knee, and the other grazing his thigh. He shouted a curse and shuddered against her, his returning fire wildly peppering the wall of the house near the window as he fell, slipping out of her grasp. His forehead made contact with the hard tiles with a sickening crack. A scream caught in Senna’s throat as Rex slid towards the edge of the roof.

No.

Her heart felt like it stopped beating as she flung her hand out instinctively. 

Please no. 

The warmth rushed through her veins, just as it had when she’d confronted Fisk, just as it had for her entire life until a year ago. Time slowed as Rex clawed at the tiles, trying to find purchase. His eyes met hers as his waist slid over the edge.

“HANG ON!” 

Her blood sang, and she gasped, but she had him, she could feel it, could feel him. 

Another blaster bolt flew by her head, and she ducked enough for it to miss, leaving the smell of singed hair in its wake. She focused on keeping hold of Rex as she reholstered her blaster, instead pulling her lightsaber from her belt. Her thumb grazed the power button, and the saber hummed to life in her hand. 

“SHE’S THE JEDI!” 

Yes I fucking am. 

Senna wrenched her arm with all of her might, pulling Rex back up and onto the roof as much as she could. Her senses tingled, and she raised her lightsaber in time to block a blaster bolt aimed at her chest. She snarled at the stormtroopers as she threw the hand holding her lightsaber forward, pushing two of the troopers that had made it out the window off of the roof. Her arms shook as she kept her hold on Rex, pulling him closer in between deflecting blaster fire. Her fighting form was sloppy, and she knew it, but survival trumped technique in the moment. Senna’s saber hummed as she cut a wide arc, sending at least one bolt back through the window. She jerked Rex towards her again, and this time, she felt him land at her feet. 

Another blaster bolt erupted from near her ankles, and Senna allowed herself a quick glance down. Even in his current state, Rex had his blaster raised and was returning fire, blinking blood from the cut on his forehead out of his eyes. 

“Can you stand?” she shouted over the din.

“Maybe.” His teeth were clenched, and she could see a vein throbbing at his temple. She’d never seen Rex hurt before, and it made anger thrum through her. She banished the urge to embrace that rage, that hatred, instead reaching down towards him.“Grab my belt and haul yourself up! We’ve got to go!” she yelled. 

Rex clasped her hand, squeezing it lightly even now. He cursed loudly as he dragged himself to a standing position, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to support himself. Senna slid her free hand around his waist, slipping her fingers under his belt to hold him up.

“BACK UP.”

She began pushing him towards the edge of the roof, continuing to deflect blaster fire while Rex managed to pick off at least two assailants with his DL-44. The stormtroopers were pouring out into the yard now, having realized their targets were already outside. 

“How many did he fucking bring?” Senna muttered under her breath, sweat trickling from her brow as her muscles and joints screamed in protest under Rex’s weight and the strain of keeping her balance on the roof. 

“Dunno, but I can take out a few more,” Rex gritted out. Quickly, he reholstered his weapon and reached into a pouch at his side, grabbing a thermal detonator and flinging it down into the yard. The blast sent the half dozen stormtroopers that had gathered flying, their screams cutting through the night as smoke filled the air. 

Senna was gasping for breath as she held Rex up, trying to tread carefully on foot placement as they backed towards the edge of the roof. The smoke had obscured them from view from the troopers in the yard, but that didn’t stop them from firing wildly at where they thought their two fugitives might be. 

Just a little further. 

As they reached the edge of the roof, the narrow gap between the wall and the shed stretched out below them. Senna glanced down, trying not to think about how far the fall was. Rex’s eyes met hers. 

“Sorry about this,” she gasped.

Without giving herself another moment to think about it, she tipped backwards and pulled Rex off of the roof with her. She heard him inhale sharply, and briefly, she felt wild laughter bubbling up in her at his surprise. 

He’s going to kill me later. If there is a later.

Deactivating her lightsaber in the air, Senna tried as hard as she could to push away from the ground with the Force to cushion their landing. They still wound up in a heap, but at least not any more injured from what she could tell. Rex was groaning and swearing.

“Why don’t you ever just ask me to karking jump?” 

Clipping her saber back onto her belt, Senna ignored his muttering and grabbed him under his arms, roughly dragging him towards the entrance to the shed. The stormtroopers were already running into the alley, shouting at them to stop. 

Just keep surviving one more minute, Senna thought to herself. If you do that enough times, you might live to see another day. 

Once she and Rex were both inside the shed, Senna slammed the door shut behind them, locking it and busting the control panel with her fist to keep it sealed for a few moments. She helped Rex onto the speeder bike, settling herself in front of him to drive. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she reached down, resting her hand against his forearm. They paused for a moment, the only sounds the two of them catching their breath in the deafening silence of the shed. 

“Got your blaster out?” Senna asked.

“Yup,” he grunted into her ear.

Stormtroopers pounded on the door they’d just come through, shouting commands that all blended together into an indecipherable cacophony.

“Alright, let’s see if we can get through this,” Senna whispered, trying to hide the tremor in her hands.

“Another tall order,” Rex said through clenched teeth.

“That’s unfortunately becoming a trend with us,” she muttered.

“This one’s the tallest.” 

She hummed in agreement, unsure of how else to respond. She could hear the sadness in Rex’s voice, and her chest clenched as she realized he was implying there was a chance these were their last moments together. They could already hear the stormtroopers lining up in front of the main door outside, ready to capture or kill them.

How silly all of this is, Senna thought. All of that pushback and wanting to keep him safe, and now here we are. About to die together. And I never–

“You’re surrounded! Come out with your hands in the air!” A smug voice rang out through the door, muffled but still painfully recognizable. Senna’s lip curled reflexively. 

Fisk.

The anger in her shifted to helpless disappointment.

He’s going to win. 

Her mind raced, but no better alternative to their current predicament presented itself. Senna felt her breath catch in her throat, and she fought the urge to scream in frustration.

This might be it. 

She turned around and looked at Rex. There was a pinch between his brows, and his eyes were sad. Even with the blood and dirt smeared across his face, his eyes still burned fiercely as they found hers in the dark. Her heart fluttered.

You never told him. 

But to tell him now that she loved him, to tell him all of the things she’d been withholding felt like a concession, like she’d accepted that they were going to be captured or killed. And that wasn’t something Senna was ready to do. Instead, she grabbed Rex by the back of the head and urgently pressed her lips to his. She felt him stiffen at first with surprise before relaxing into the kiss, reaching his fingers up to touch the side of her face with the same gentleness she’d come to know as inherently him. The same gentleness she’d fallen in love with. Her eyes burned as she stifled the sob welling up within her. 

She wanted to stay there forever, pretending it was just the two of them, but time was short. The odds were stacked against them in almost every way, but she was too stubborn to give up yet. 

“And since when have you ever backed down from a challenge?” her master’s voice echoed in her mind.

She pulled herself away from the kiss, resting her forehead against Rex’s for another heartbeat. 

“Just in case,” she whispered. 

“Sure,” he agreed, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “But we’re going to talk about this later.”

She allowed herself a small smile before turning back around. 

“So, I assume you’ve got at least one bad idea,” he said quietly. “You always have one of those.”

“One bad idea is better than no ideas,” Senna countered. Reaching down, she started the bike. “Got any smoke grenades?” 

“Don’t I always?” he joked, grimacing as he reached into his supply pouch again and pulled two explosives back out.

“Alright, as soon as the door opens, toss them under. Maybe that’ll obscure us enough to get through the welcome committee waiting for us.”

“You want a distraction?” he asked. “Why not use the detonator?”

She’d almost completely forgotten about the small remote in her pocket, but adding it to her idea seemingly upgraded it to at least ‘half-baked plan’ status in her mind. 

“You’re absolutely right,” she laughed, pulling the detonator from her pocket. “Alright, big explosion, smoke bombs under the door, drive like a mynock out of hell, and shoot back when they shoot. Any questions?”

Rex chuckled quietly, and the rumble against her warmed her from the inside out. “None from me.”

She took one last deep breath. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

She armed the detonator and pressed the button. The entire shed shuddered and a bright flash briefly illuminated the inside of it as their entire dwelling exploded, completely destroying the place they’d called home for the last few months. Hearing shouts of confusion outside, Senna reached out with the Force to press the button that opened the shed’s main door. The door began sliding up with a groan, and Rex quickly tossed the grenades underneath as soon as the gap was large enough. 

Here we go.

The world around them erupted in blaster fire and smoke as the door slid up. Senna gunned the engine, and as soon as the door was high enough for them to duck under, they rocketed forward. A blaster bolt grazed her left shoulder as they shot out into the chaos, but she ignored it, grabbing her lightsaber and reigniting it again to deflect and blindly cut through as much as she could. There were shouts and screams as Rex’s blaster rang in her ear, the grip around her waist tightening as he whipped the weapon back and forth to cover a wide area with fire. 

Senna felt her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst through her chest as they tore through the squadron of stormtroopers, running into one head-on with the bike. She heard the sickening thud and grunt as his body hit the front panel and dropped to the ground, leaving a scuff of white plastoid and blood on the bike’s paneling. 

Just survive another minute.

It felt like an eternity, but it was a fraction of a second before they burst out of the smoke, the blaster fire continuing to chase them as they sped away. She didn’t even have time to look over her shoulder at the smoldering wreckage that had once been their dwelling.

“Atta girl,” Rex shouted in her ear. 

Her heart soared. 

Senna tucked her lightsaber back onto her belt as she heard the whine of speeder bikes fire up behind them. Rex turned and shot backwards into the fray. 

“Are we being chased?” she shouted.

“Yup, got three bikes in pursuit,” he confirmed. 

Kriff.

“Alright, let’s see if we can make it out of town and lose them in the grasslands.” 

Senna wove in and out of the city’s streets, the bolts from their pursuers peppering the buildings and the ground around them. She felt the heat of one that got especially close to her shoulder as it winged by and slammed into a wall ahead of them. 

Kriffing transport-grade weaponry. Those pack a punch.

Suddenly, she turned left and saw the edge of the township, the streets and buildings giving way to unpaved grassland. The yellowing grass stood high enough in some places to where they would be able to be hidden from view.

If we can just make it that far. We’re so close.

She heard an explosion behind them and saw the buildings around them briefly illuminate as Rex whooped loudly. 

“Still got all three?” she yelled.

“No, I managed to hit one,” he replied with a tone that could only be described as cheerful. It made Senna smile. “Now we’re just down to the last–“

Rex gasped suddenly, and his body shuddered against her before she felt him go limp. His weapon flew from his hand and clattered against the pavement as they sped onwards.

“REX!” Senna screamed, feeling his grip around her waist loosen. She frantically grabbed his arm to hold him to her while she steered.

“REX PLEASE ANSWER ME!” 

Her pleas were met with silence. 

No. No. No. No. 

She inhaled sharply. 

Think. He needs you to think right now.

Rex had been their rear defense, but now the Imperials were free to shoot at them unhindered. He’d undoubtedly take another blast if she didn’t stop them, or they’d hit the bike, and everything would go to hell from there.

No. 

Senna swung the bike around so that it was facing their assailants, slamming on the brakes. As gently as she could, she eased Rex forward so that he was slumped over the handlebars, and then she leapt from the bike, igniting her lightsaber in the air. 

The first stormtrooper had no time to react as she came down on his speeder, cleanly slicing it and him in two. The second one was further back and had time to respond, firing at her as she charged forward. She deflected blast after blast with ease, her eyes burning and her saber humming in her hand. She felt the anger and hatred seep into her veins, the cold trickle in her blood that she’d felt on Empire Day, and in that moment, did not fight it. 

I’ve come this far. They’re not taking one more person from me. 

“COME ON!” she screamed at the approaching trooper. “COME AND GET ME!” 

She was running straight at the approaching bike now, her hair flying wildly behind her. If the trooper was concerned about a Jedi running full-speed at him, he didn’t show it, hunkering down further behind his handlebars. 

Senna seethed.

Fuck you.

Just as the bike was about to hit her, Senna dropped to her knees, sliding along the pavement. The cobblestones tore at her knees through the fabric of her leggings, leaving her with torn skin and bloodied bruises that she hardly registered. She held her lightsaber skyward, neatly slicing the bike in half along its length. The halves flew over her, searing her cheek as she turned her head and pressed herself against the ground. The bike’s pieces clattered loudly against the street, and the mangled body of the stormtrooper rolled away from her. For just one second, she allowed herself to sink against the pavement, trying to catch her breath before a voice in the back of her mind started screaming. 

RUN! 

Quickly, Senna stood, ignoring the stinging and warmth of her bloodied knees as she listened for more bikes. She could hear them in the distance, but she and Rex would be long gone by the time their pursuers reached this spot.

Senna ran back to her speeder bike. She wanted to check Rex fully, but there was no time. She pushed his body forward so that she would be able to steer, albeit clumsily, and hopped on behind him, caging him in with her arms to hold him in place. Gunning the engine, she reached out with the Force, searching for Rex in it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt him, still there.

But fading fast. 

“Please hang on, Rex,” she whispered as she turned the bike towards the grass and sped off into the night.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @wolffegirlsunite @fives-lover @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

[justasecretflower]

Hi!!! I am new at your chanel but I just love the way you are writing about Creepypasta!!! So can you take my request? How creepypasta characters (your choice) will react to S/o who is already have a child. But the child isn't scared of them and actually thought they are cool. And sometimes calling them "Mama/Papa". And how they are going to react when the child said that they want to dress up like them at Halloween.

No pressure! If you don't want to do this then that's alright. As long as you are comfortable doing this then it's alright. Have a good day/night ❤️

This is so sweet!:( btw all of the stuff I post has a little emoji showing what fandom it is. To keep things organized I asked in my rules for requests to do the same:) I know you’re new and I totally get that! Just saying if you wanna request again I would use the little “🥀” emoji for creepypasta🤍. Love you, and thanks for the request chérie!

🥀- creepypasta! Characters when their step kids! Dress up as them for Halloween 🤍

Incl- Ticci Toby, Jane the killer, Hoodie (Brian), Masky (Tim), (yes I know that Brian and Tim are marble hornet characters).

Ticci Toby🪓

- he’ll cry, no doubt about it.

- he didn’t have a good father, so being a good dad to a child that he didn’t even help make wasn’t on his bucket list.. until he met you and you had a kid.

- he doesn’t care, this is his kid.

- he’ll match with them, go trick or treating and carry them on his shoulders, and then he’ll cry in his s/o’s lap about how precious the child is and how he wants another.

- he doesn’t give them a real axe, a plastic one, but he doesn’t play down the axe and tells them to be careful with such a weapon.

- congrats! You’ve unlocked the baby fever version of Toby! Now you have to deal with him bugging you about another kid🤍

Jane the killer 🎭

- a bit surprised

- nonetheless she helps your kid get into a costume to match her look, she’s smiling so hard.

- she calls the kid “my baby” now

- carries that kid everywhere during trick or treating, and then a themed movie night watching nightmare before Christmas.

- never pictured herself having kids, or even one, but spending time with your kid makes her consider adopting your kid

Hoodie (Brian) 🧥

- he’s already an awesome stepdad. He loves your kid with his whole heart.

- before marble hornets happened, he planned on getting married and having kids, so when you brought your kid into the relationship he immediately thought of the kid as his own

- practically throws himself at that kid.

- he’s squealing and getting them a mini mask and hoodie.

- “see? We’re matching now.”

- you end up finding Brian and your kid fast asleep on the couch, your kid laid on his chest, candy wrappers scattered all over the living room and the pillowcase of candy half empty (was it only me trick or treating with a pillow case?..)

Masky (Tim)

- he’s a bit weary about it, thinking that it’ll attract the operator to the kid.

- he’s akward around your kid, but treats them decently.

- when he sees them all dressed up he smiles a bit, its small but soft.

- paranoid when they go out trick or treating, a knife on him just in case…

- checks their candy 😔

- has the kids legs wrapped around his torso and their small arms around his neck the whole time they go trick or treating he is NOT RISKING ANYTHING‼️

___________________________________________

Thanks for reading! I love you all:)

Tags

[queewp]

I wanna hear more about ur merturtle au pls. I think it's pretty neat and u have very squishy designs. Also is it okay to write fanfic of ur au? It wouldn't be much and it'll be my first time writing but I have a tentative idea.

OH!! Ofc u can use the designs // idea with credit ^^ If u ever write something, defo mention it to me on here so I can read it >:) The overall thing was originally just going to be fun ideas, and nothing major. Overall, basically everything is the same from the original, other than a few quirks and designs the turtles have. Leo would always make a snarky comment about how he'd have "The voice of a siren." Which ofc, Donnie would always correct. He's the fastest swimmer of the group, and is the one that usually dominates fighting fields. Ofc- only if he uses his brain, which he kinda needs to work on. Donnie on the other hand, had to figure out how to comfortably live his life out of the water, and be able to be happy with it. He's made a few adjustments, probably like keeping water in his battle shell and having a regular schedule to keep himself from not being too agitated. In this version ofc, he's made all of his equipment waterproof! Including Shelldon ofc!! Raph, as a thresher shark, I'd imagine his fighting style would change a bit. Ofc he'd still be the absolute tank, but I like to imagine he'd manage to kinda use his tail to his advantage. Like Splinter, he uses his tail as a weapon and can stun enemies And as the Raph fan I am, thought that maybe it'd be cool to explore a small idea: Raph's always been paranoid of his smile, of being too rough, of being too scary, etc. I want him to both understand his struggles and realize that those he really cares about just want to see the true him, and not a hand covering his sharp smile. Aka, some free angst I could mess around with ;) Mikey... i actually don't have a lot for him? He'd be a force of keeping the family together, kinda like in the cannon. He'd have the most colorful fighting style, especially when u add water to the mix! He'd be the one to make Raph realize how wrong he was about himself, he'd be the one to help Donnie with his designs, and he'd help Leo realize that a lot of the stuff that's happened to them wasn't his fault. Also, part of me would find it funny if HE was the one who had some sort of 'siren' 'mermaid' powers. Or this could just be me watching too much avatar and the last airbender- but i think it'd be funny if he could manipulate water, and have all that cool mermaid powers!! Just an idea tho ^^ NOW UH- sorry if that's a lot to read, so have this lil comic WIP. I probably won't finish it knowing me- it is my birthday after all, but I'm glad people are taking interest in my little au :]

[kalivda]

Ghostly Visit (Gus Halper! Mischa Bachinski x Sister! Reader)

After the Cyclone incident, you get a visit from someone very familiar…warnings: angst, mentions of death

words: 1369

•••



The nightmares started after that fateful Monday. Waking up in a cold sweat wasn't the worst of it. However, it was the restless nights I spent alone in the cold dingy basement.

There used to be two people down here. Making the best out of a terrible situation. My adopted "parents" hated my brother and I. Despised us even. All because of our mom faking our ages. They didn't get the young children they wanted, but two rage and passion-filled Ukrainian twins.

The screeching of the rollercoaster was still in my ear. Watching the choir members fly off of the rollercoaster and falling to their impending dooms. A part of me feels glad I refused to get on the rollercoaster. But guilty my brother did.

I remember watching his body fly out of the rollercoaster and hit the concrete below. The screams of fair goers. The sickening crack each kid made after falling. It makes me want to-

I shot up from my sleep and ran to the tiny bathroom, vomiting my guts out in the toilet. Coughing a bit, I sat next to the it, sobbing my eyes out quietly. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to die? It should've been me. I should've went on the rollercoaster. I should've...

"Cестра (sister)?" A voice moved past my ears. "The hell..." I mutter, weakly standing on my feet.

"Do not freak out. It's me!" 'Is that...it can't be. Mischa's dead. Get it together, Y/n. You're being paranoid again.'

"Cестра?" The voice called out again, this time taking the shape of a boy. But sort of like a ghost. He was wearing a white button up with a sweater vest. I looked closely and noticed the St. Cassian's Chamber school logo.

"M-Mischa?" I asked, sniffling. "Who else would it be?" He asked, looking at me like I was dumb.

"W-wait...how is this...how is this happening?!" I almost yell, picking up the plunger near me as a weapon, my accent thickening."Really? You are going to fight me with a...." "Plunger!" I whisper-yell. "Right...a plunger? It wouldn't work. I'm a...ghost?"

Yep. That was Mischa alright. "Wait how are you even here right now? Talking to me? In our..."room"? Aren't you dead?" I asked him. "Yes! I am still dead. But a lot has happened. We met some fortune teller. And he knew you were my sister! I do not know how, but he did." I slowly nodded, hoping he would continue telling me this weird story.

"But now I guess...we're choosing someone to come back to life." He got quieter by the last part, but I heard him loud and clear. "Come back to life?! Mischa, that's so cool! Not to be biased or anything, but I think you should. You deserve it the most."

"And go back to that hellhole with our so-called "parents"? No thanks. I'd rather stay dead." My heart dropped at his sudden cold rage. "Mischa- what about Talia?" He stared at me and his face softened. "Talia...my divine Talia...I do not want to leave her, but I don't want the life I've had before."

"Mischa please! I can't keep doing this by myself! They hate me even more since the accident. Please..." I got choked up and was hiccuping over every little word at this point. "Y/n..." "I don't want to live anymore. Not if you aren't there! So PLEASE!" My voice broke and I began to sob quietly.

"соняшник (sunflower), listen to me. I need to do what's best for me. I'm fine with the 18 years I've spent with you. You need to find somewhere else to go. You need to find people that make you happy and find someone you love. Like how my shawty, Talia, and I do." I laughed a little at this comment.

"I truly love you. You were my best friend. My partner in crime. The only other person to leave me mostly positive reviews on my YouTube comment wall. I love you." Tears flowed from my eyes and fell onto my cheeks.

Little sparkles began to form it's way around my twin. "Mischa, what's happening?" I asked, concerned. "Ocean chose someone to live..." I almost jumped up, but contained myself. "And we're all passing onto the afterlife. Except for...I hear her name is Penny." He says. "Penny Lamb? Isn't that the one girl with the brother named Ezra?" I asked confused. "If that is who she is, then yes."

He sniffled a little. "Well this is the last time I think I will see you." A bittersweet smile came onto both of our faces. "I'll miss you, Mi." I said, my vision getting blurred from the tears. "You too, Y/n/n."

"Wait! Mischa, before you go...can you sing me that nursery rhyme that you sang to me all the time when we were younger? The one mom sang before she...died?" He looked down on me and nodded slightly, leaning towards me, giving some ghostly hug and he began to sing.

"Зірко, зірко, мерехти,

Недосяжна в небі mu!

(Star, star, twinkle,

You are faraway in heaven!)

Сяєш ніжно ти мені,

Мов коштовність у пітьмі!

(You shine tenderly for me,

Like a jewel in the dark!)

Зірко, зірко, мерехти,

Недосяжна в небі ти!

(Star, star, twinkle,

You are faraway in heaven!)

Щойно сонечко зайде,

Темрява накриє все.

(As soon as the sun goes down,

Darkness will cover everything.)

Зірко, в небі запалай!

Сон, малят оберігай!

(Star, light up in the sky!

Sleep, baby, beware!)

Зірко, зірко, мерехти,

Недосяжна в небі ти!

(Star, star, twinkle,

You are faraway in heaven!)

He began to sing again, but it sounded more faded, before no sound came at all. I began to doze off and eventually fell asleep under my dingy, thin sheet.

~

The next time I opened my eyes, it was time for me to go to school. I put on my uniform and did my hair in a decent way, to not make it look like I was just visited by my ghost brother. Before I walk up the basement stairs, something glimmers out of the corner of my eye.

Mischa's fake gold chain he won from some arcade. I take it quickly and put it on, fixing it up a little bit. Using my phone, I pull up my camera and check myself in the reflection.

"Perfect." I breathe out, running up the stairs and gently opening the door, my "father" unlocking it a few minutes ago.

I make my way out the front door and get to school, a memorial standing in the front. Seeing the choir's faces fill my heart with a pang of guilt.

"Um, excuse me?" A girl's voice spoke up. I turn and see a girl around my height with short black hair, freckles, and the brightest green eyes. "Yes?" "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Penny. Penny Lamb." She holds her hand out for me to shake.

I slowly took her hand, wondering if I was dreaming. "I think you're Mischa's sister, Y/n? You guys look alike." She says fascinated and touching my (h/l), (h/c) hair. "You okay, Penny?" I asked. "Yeah! Actually...no. It's been a week since...ya know, and I wanted to know more about the kids that died. And since you're Mischa's sister, I was wondering if...you could...tell me about him." She asked. "Penny-" "Or don't! You don't have to!" "Penny-" "Forgive me if that was offensive, I know you're planning a funeral and everything-"

"Penny!" I shouted, some kids looking at me weirdly. "It's okay. I would love to tell you about Mischa. I can tell you about some of the other choir kids too like Ocean and Ricky." Her face shows one of shock, but excitement. "Okay! How about we get a coffee or something. At the Blackwood café this afternoon?" She asked.

"I'll see you there." I smile, watching her smile back and run into school. And Mischa's words came into mind:

"You need to find people that make you happy and find someone you love."

Maybe that just might be Penny.

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 3 🦌

"Restless Nights"

Content: Paranoid whumpee, fear of being SAed, uhhh idk this is mostly setup for the next chapter which will be much more whumpy.

1,100 words

(Not) continuing on with my part-a-day challenge (to the fullest) but I'll try to get a part out on the regular! Congrats, you now know what I'm like as a content creator! Rule of thumb, if I ever say "I'll try to—" or "I will be—" you can count on me to never deliver!

However, in my own defense, I've been working my job a shit ton recently, and am also working on a 12 book series, and also working on the series for Valentine that I'll be posting here, and drawing a lot, so I'm pretty busy, lol. But as always, excuse my writing quality for this mini series, I just shit these out into Google Docs and then copy and paste them here.

With that said, I humbly bring you all part 3! The next part is where the whump is really gonna start coming through, so stay tuned for that (and the eventual off-the-rails plot I thought of at 3 am while trying to sleep)

       Fawn was in a state of shock, and they knew it, too. They didn’t feel very much besides the anxiety that coursed through their veins. They should be frightened, and feel disgusted. They should be crying, and panicking, and trying to find a way out. Yet all they could do was sit up right on the old dirty mattress, hugging their knees to their chest as they stared into the pitch black darkness of Hunter’s basement.

       Eventually they fell back against the mattress, hands over their chest as their heart beat wildly, yet they felt nothing. Not even tired. Sleep was nowhere near on their mind. All they could think about was their own stupidity. How they managed to walk right into a psychopath’s literal trap. Thoughts of the future wavered through their mind, and none of the scenarios were favorable.

       Were they going to be killed? No, Hunter alluded to it, but said they were too pretty, whatever the hell that means. Was that really the only thing keeping them alive? What if they accidentally piss them off? What if they grow bored of them? But… What do they even want with them in the first place? Something nice to look at? A pretty pet? Where they going to be raped? They didn’t even want to consider the thought.

       Fawn couldn’t hear a single sound other than the sound of their own breathing and heartbeat. They couldn't even see their own hands in front of them. There were no windows, no connections to the outside world. It was sensory deprived hell, and as the minutes ticked away they felt like they were going insane.

       They couldn’t take it anymore, and sat up, slowly getting up to stand on their one good foot. They wobbled and felt weak, but once they got their footing they slowly hopped to where they saw the light string. Reaching out blindly in the darkness, they felt it in their hands, and pulled it. A click rang through the air, and the basement was illuminated, albeit dimly, but they could at least see.

       The basement was full of all kinds of clutter, like tools, weapons, boxes, taxidermied animals, bones, fur rugs, and mounted animal heads. There were a bunch of spiders, cobwebs, and cockroaches scurrying around. Good thing they weren't afraid of bugs. At least they had some company.

       The mattress was torn and covered in blood and dirt. Lots of dried blood, actually. How many others were here before them? How many others spent their last nights on this same, tattered bed? It all felt too surreal. It couldn't be real. This was a horror movie, or a true crime documentary in the making, and they were the next subject. Why them of all people? Life isn't fair.

They began to carefully and quietly sift through the various things Hunter kept down there. Looking through the boxes, opening drawers, peeking behind furniture. Inside a metal cabinet were multiple folders and papers. The papers being....

       ...Missing posters?

First came confusion, then came the wide eyed terror and the sinking of their heart. In shock their shaking hands dropped the papers, and when they got their bearings, picked them back up, examining them.

       There were some from different places, but most of them came from the same nearby town that Fawn had just moved to. They could recall seeing some of them around town, or in newspaper ads. Even conversations with the locals about how people often go missing... The oldest one of the bunch was ten years ago. The most recent was only from 6 months ago.

       Fawn felt sick to their stomach. Asking how many people were here before them was supposed to just be rhetorical.

       Fawn grabbed a knife that was sitting on one of the tables, and turned out the lights. It was old and rusted, but just having a weapon in their hands at least gave them the illusion of safety. They clutched it tightly in both of their hands, sitting on the mattress. They were restless and anxious, with their wide eyes staring towards the door in darkness. They could hear the floorboards creak above them, and they hoped and prayed Hunter wouldn't come back down the stairs.

       Especially if they thought they were asleep.

       Though much like Fawn, Hunter wasn't able to rest their eyes, either. However, while Fawn's may have been from fear, Hunter was far too excited. They tossed and turned, but all they could think about was their latest victim. When they remembered they had a bag with them that they removed, they jumped out of bed immediately.

       Moonlight was shining through the trees, seeping into the decrepit cabin through cracked and boarded up windows. Hunter went to the kitchen and picked Fawn's bag up off of the floor, curious to rummage through their things.

       It was filled with snacks and water bottles. There was a change of clothes, a pocket knife, a book on plant identification, binoculars, and finally, they hit the jackpot. A phone with no passcode! Just who was their little Fawn, really?

       Their lockscreen was a photo of two cats cuddling, looking like they took it themself at a shelter. Much to Hunter's dismay, it didn't seem like they had any social medias, but they did have lots of things in their gallery!… though they were mostly just photos of animals. They couldn't find a real name or anything that was truly personal.

       It wouldn't matter much even if they did have socials, because there was no signal out here. It wouldn't connect to the internet. Maybe they had something in their calendar?... no, nothing. No birthdays or events, except for some things relating to the Animal shelter. 

       Their phone was so void of anything that it was almost frustrating. Either they didn't use technology much, or they had absolutely nothing going on in their life besides their volunteer work. I mean, they didn't even have a passcode, Hunter was disappointed, to say the least.

      A weak knock coming from the basement door startled them out of their dissatisfaction.

      "Uhh… Hunter?" A meek, muffled voice called.

      "What?"

       "I… have to pee."

      "Okay."

      "I need a bathroom."

       "No you don't. You have a change of clothes right here, you can change in the morning."

       "What?!" Fawn was appalled, "But—"

       "You should be happy you're alive and shut up. Piss on the floor and go to bed."

       "But—"

       "Piss on the floor and go to bed." Hunter repeated, much more stern. It was silent for a moment before quiet thumps could be heard limping down the stairs. Poor injured thing.

       Hunter had a feeling this recent capture was going to be quite an interesting one. They listen well enough, but don't seem to really grasp the situation they've found themself in. It wasn't a worry, that just meant training them was going to be all the more enjoyable.

       Hunter smiled.

       They were going to have fun tomorrow.

[bohemian-nights]

- Nettles is specifically stated as a brown girl in the book. Take it up with George RR martin. The speculated actress for Nettles is a brown woman. You think she's black? That's okay since she's clearly of mixed heritage. However, you weaponizing race isn't going to go over well since main point is most of us wocs don't want a woc to be given this treatment in the show.

- "She is an adult by westerosi standards"? That doesn't mean anything. Do you also count 14-yo Rhaenyra as grown woman in the book when Daemon was "educating" her about seduction and sex? Do you count the likes of Helaena who was forced to give birth at 13-14 and adult simply because she was married? This is the same excuse people use to excuse the grooming of young girls in what's clearly a patriarchal society.

- IT IS GROOMING!! You're making excuses for Daemon's behavior. I'll give it to OP last time who called out your "i can fix him" behavior when yous said "he isn't all bad". They're 100% right!! We literally have lines from the book where he is teaching her how to act, giving her gifts, etc. She's a lowborn teen girl and he's a middle-aged royal prince. There is no world this isn't grooming!

- Him letting her go does not mean he loves her. Ya'll just be romanticizing sh*t. This is a grown man of 50. He does not need saving from his depressed and paranoid wife who lost her children just because of your misogynoir and self-insert fantasies!

You have to look outside your little bubble and realize Nettles/Daemon isn't liked outside of your little circle because of all the problematic aspects and not because of some shipping war. Is this is how you want a woc to be treated? Do you want to see women being pitted against each other just because you hate the other one? Over some white man...seven help us then

Her alleged actress and her first canon depiction back in 2015👆🏽 Black people have brown skin too dear(which is how Netty is described). She could be Blackish(never denied that just the insinuation she wasn't Black at all), but why should she even be Valyrian? I'm terribly afraid that the point keeps going over your head🙃

Daemon did groom Rhaenyra, but he isn’t the villain when it comes to Nettles. I’m sorry this isn’t a gotcha moment for you but she was a legal adult who he had a consensual relationship with. Him rescuing Nettles and put her, someone who wouldn’t be missed by anyone except him, above his own safety. That is nothing to sneeze about(and no, you can’t compare their relationship with Dumbnyra because it’s actually supposed to be romantic).

Instead of wanting her to have a rich character arc, you want to put Nettles into a box where she’s Rhaenyra’s Magical Negro/Mammy who helps her wake up and realize that she’s being groomed and wipe her tears away so that she can live another day.

You need to step outside of your bubble and acknowledge your misogynoir(which is a term created by and for Black women to describe our issues, not for whoever you are trying to hijack and use it for). Acknowledge that the sisterhood ends with racism. As a WOC you should know that.

Nettles is the victim of a woman who used racially charged language while ordering her to be murdered in her sleep. Rhaenyra isn’t just some poor unfortunate woman who lost her marbles(being mentally ill doesn’t excuse racism). She’s a queen who uses her power to punch down and she chooses Nettles as one of her many victims.

She chooses to try to make a Black woman(and potentially her baby) into victim(s) of a hate crime. I’m under no obligation to ignore that for the sake of the sisterhood(how dare you suggest I do).

I am under no obligation to sing a racist woman’s praises just because she’s a woman to stick it to the man. If that’s what you want from me or else you’ll accuse me of I’m pitting women against women, then sweetheart, you need to have several seats and take up your issues with GRRM (because he most certainly didn’t write your self-insert to be considered “a clear cut good person who you must worship or else,” which is why you are boiling over people like myself calling out your drivel).

[novankenn]

Reluctant Hero?

= Three = (Chapter List)

Glynda's hands were shaking slightly as Jaune stepped away from the splatter of gore that now decorated the sill of the window. Without any other comments, Jaune closed and locked the window before returning to his duffle-bag. He pulled out another can of beer, as he dropped into the nearest plush armchair.

With his shotgun balanced across his lap, he punched open the top of the can with his cybernetic thumb and proceeded to guzzle the contents.

Glynda: That is not possible. Grimm melt away after they are destroyed. They don't continue to exist!

Jaune: (Belch) That wasn't a grimm. It was one of those things.

Glynda: That...

Jaune: What is it with people not hearing what I say, or believing their own eyes! (Crushes the can and tosses it towards the garbage can in the corner... missing it by a mile) This evil is out there. It can infest grimm, it can possess people... it can do a whole load of freaky shit!

Ozpin: Please calm down, Mr Arc. I believe you. Now, how do we combat this... entity?

Jaune: Find those passages. Find those FUCKING passages!

Glynda: This isn't real. It's not possible.

Ozpin: (Stepping around his desk) I have a speech to make. I will escort you to the auditorium, and after initiation we'll arrange for you to have a meeting with Doctor Oobleck, where he can discuss his current findings with you.

Jaune snorted out a heavy breath, before standing and shoving his shotgun into his bag. As Glynda remained, staring at the small trickle of black ichor dripping down the sill on the inside of the window, Ozpin lead Jaune to the elevator.

Ozpin: We will stop at the locker area, where you can deposit...

Jaune: Ah, yeah, not happening.

Ozpin: Mr Arc, students and applicants are not permitted to have weapons...

Jaune: Yeah, well, I'm neither a student nor applicant, so not happening. This stuff stays close... always has... always will.

Ozpin: I must insist...

Jaune: Insist all you want. You just saw a small sample of what we're facing. So you can let me keep my gear, or you can give me back the book, and I'll go somewhere more accommodating to my needs.

Ozpin: We are trying to...

Jaune: I am NOT being unarmed if something gets into that room, end of discussion.

/==/ 2 Hours Later /==/

Jaune's azure eyes scanned the expansive room, littered with hopeful applicants spread out haphazardly on the floor. He sat with his back against a wall. In a spot that allowed him to watch all the entrances. His shotgun across his lap, and the remains of a six-pack between his slightly spread legs.

He had his hoodie hood up, to hide his face in shadow, in a vain attempt to try and hide himself. It wasn't entirely successful. While it was scattered and rather random, he still heard the name the news had labelled him with... Bonnie Jauney. To be honest, it had rankled him when it first happened, but now, he didn't give a shit. If it kept people away from him, all the better.

He was never this paranoid or cautious before the incident in the mountains. He smirked as he remembered a quote he once saw...

Jaune: (Mumbling to himself as he opened another can) Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you. Well you damn well know they are, don't you buddy.

[vamqiredove]

OKOK @indigoartistqueen i'll ramble and elaborate err i'm keepin it here cause this rlly isn't smthing i want on slaingelo especially bc i get a bit mad in this oops

CAMERAS LIKE THAT ARE USELESS. ALSO THEY MAKE SHIT WORSE IF YOU ARE PARANOID. having them inside your house is unnecessary unless you're convinced someone's living in your house without you knowing. otherwise it does nothing but take up electricity or batteries and money ect ect whatever. If you unnecessarily install cameras you're going to be checking them constantly. and also within the context of just "waah my big strong man is out for a week i'm so scareed i'm going to put cameras inside my house" WHAT IS THAT GOING TO DOOOOOOOOOOO SOMEONE HAS TO /ALREADY BE BROKEN IN TO YOUR HOUSE/ FOR THAT TO BE "USEFUL" AT ALL AND BY THAT POINT IT'S NOT SECURITY WHATTTTTT

like other people said in that post, security like that makes it impossible to get out of your house fast/give first responders a hard time getting in. I have a bar in my window. it's removable from the inside very easily and all it serves to do is keep the window from opening more than a few inches. this mf would install damn prison bars if her husband had to go away for a month.

IF YOU'RE THAT PARANOID ABOUT LOCKS GET A FUCKING DEADBOLT AND/OR CHAINLOCK OH MY GOD. first responders are more likely to know how to get around those than "mobile locks" what the fuck is a mobile lock. OH WAIT !! SHE ALREADY HAS A DEADBOLT AND SHE'S DOUBLING UP WITH THE MOBILE LOCK. HUH ???????????????????????????????????

YOU WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW YOU ARE HOME.... when I'm home alone I actively try to make it look like someone's always awake. do I go over the top locking every door and window in the house and leave the curtains facing the backyard closed and did I once move furniture to block my bedroom door in order to sleep ? yeah sure but I'M MENTALLY ILL. WHAT I'M SCARED OF ISN'T EVEN PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY HOUSE FFS IT'S MONSTERS THAT AREN'T REAL BUT MY DELUSIONAL BRAIN CONVINCES ME IT IS REAL TO THE POINT OF INSOMNIA IN PARTICULARLY BAD EPISODES. I AM NOT THE AVERAGE WHITE AMERICAN WOMAN FOR I AM NOT EVEN ANY OF THOSE THINGS

literally the only way I can see someone going this far for security in a way that ISN'T just "this is an ad" and/or "i am trying to brew fascism" is if someone fell into the delusion of being gangstalked, and in which case, they probably aren't posting their entire security system online because they'd be convinced their stalkers are watching their every move online and offline lol... it sure as hell wouldn't be framed like this either. also if it was the case she'd still be scared while her husband was home. it wouldn't magically appear when he's done, it would be constant.

doing shit like this isn't normal nor healthy, it's either a sign of going severe into the alt right pipeline and/or severe mental health issues that are going unchecked bc those are absolutely not mutually exclusive.

even the "keeping a flashlight nearby" thing is stupid in the sense that I DO THAT. BECAUSE WE FREQUENTLY GET POWER OUTAGES HERE ???????????????? what's it going to do if there is an intruder are you going to shine it in their fuckin face. what, can't see them thru your aesthetic lighting ?? what's the fuckin whistle going to do ... you've isolated yourself your home alone it's a WHISTLE. at the veyr least get a fucking weapon, HUH ?????????????

honestly I don't even know how coherent any of this is, it pisses me off a lot. I've done a lot of shit to try and feel "safe" and frankly it feels insulting especially given my minor agoraphobia too [ can't leave the house alone, i always need a friend or family w/ me ] especially the weird way this shit is made aesthetic. AGAIN. LIKE THE FUCKIN PURPLE LIGHTING IN THE VIDEO. AND ALSO THE SLEEK TECH.

the aesthetic-ification of that video is probably what REALLY gets me mad about it though.. like it really just makes it feel like an ad playing both on white peoples fears and mentally ill people.

blah blah my experiences aren't universal and my delusional paranoia isn't "that bad" compared to other ppls. whatever. i don't like it either way

[marinahavik]

A flower stained with blood

Prologue part 1

This is my destiny, since birth, I am a Yozakura, whether I want it or not, I will be destined to get dirty with blood

Yozakura Yumi

— You should understand me, I'm not a child, I know how to take care of myself!- Yumi stamped her foot hard on the ground, with her eyebrows furrowed.

— You're still a child, I'm doing this for your sake! -Rem, the firstborn among the seven brothers, replied, adjusting his glasses against his face.

—Ren, stop it now, Yumi is right, you can't keep her like that in the mansion, she has the right to leave whenever she wants, just like us.- Keiko, the second sister, started defending Yumi, approached his older brother with an expression of disgust

—You need to stop being paranoid and…

—Be quiet, I know what I'm doing, it's for her own good—Ren interrupted his sister, before she could finish her sentence.

She looked furious at the man in front of her, and was about to say something quite rude when she was interrupted.

—That's not fair- Yumi muttered under her breath

—I already told you, this isn't polite, speak louder— Ren said without taking his eyes off Keiko, and not paying much attention to the youngest daughter's furious murmurs.

—THIS IS NOT FAIR, I HAVE AS MUCH RIGHT TO LEAVE THE MANSION AS YOU DO- Yumi, she cried with anger and frustration as she spoke

—Do you think I like this?, being a bird in a golden cage?, you can leave whenever you want, but I have to stay in the mansion, you can do cool things and I'm stuck here, is that fair? - he said looking at his brother with his eyes shining with his tears but also with his hatred, inside his head the sound of a snake began to appear, along with a strange voice speaking different ways that the girl could use to get rid of your brother, Yumi shook her head ignoring that voice, which always appeared when she was angry.

—DON'T YELL AT ME I'M DOING THIS FOR YOUR GOOD- Ren said starting to get irritated with his sister

—Ren, stop it now- Keiko tried to calm both brothers

– for my own good? FOR MY GOOD? WHERE LEAVING ME CLOSED IN THIS MANSION FOR SEVEN YEARS WITHOUT GOING OUT TO THE OUTSIDE WORLD IS FOR MY GOOD? -the youngest girl's screams were so loud that the other brothers came out to see what was happening, and watched the fight.

—They're still out there, I'm protecting you - Ren threw the hair that fell over his face back, irritated by the fact that his little sister didn't understand that this was for her own good.

—Protecting and being paranoid are two different things, since the incident you left the poor thing locked in the mansion, a Yozakura should flourish and prosper but you are leaving your younger sister withered because of your paranoia.- the third daughter Aiko has already arrived intruding on the conversation.

—I'm the current boss, I should be in the fights with you, not hidden at home.- Yumi looked into Ren's eyes, with her black eyes shining with hatred.

—Because you are the current leader, you must be protected, after all, unlike us you don't have Nōryoku (ability), you are safer at home- Ren continued with his opinion.

— even though I don't have Nōryoku, I still have my Blooming, and you know it's strong, I know how to take care of myself, I know more than 5 types of martial arts, I have knowledge about different types of poison and handling weapons, whatever they are. white or fire, I can defend myself, so you should let me out- Yumi tried to argue but was interrupted

—IF YOU HADN'T LEFT HOME THAT DAY, YOU WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN KIDNAPPED AND OUR MOTHER WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!.- blinded by anger Ren ended up mentioning a topic that was forbidden in the family, all the brothers looked at him shocked that he had talked about that, And Yumi had stopped talking, and started sobbing.

When he realized what he had done, Ren tried to apologize, but Yumi had already run away, and the others looked at him in disappointment.

—Congratulations idiot, you had to talk about this subject, right?- Yuki, the fourth son, said while cleaning his weapon.

—I'm going after her - Seiji was already going after his younger twin but was stopped

—Better not, she needs time alone! - Akemi said holding his younger twin's shoulder

Both brothers were worried about the youngest twin of the trio, but they both knew that as much as they were inseparable, Yumi needed time alone.

The girl was hiding in the treasure room, sitting in a corner as she cried, holding a music box that had been her mother's last gift.

She wound up the box, listening to the music and calming down a little, after taking a deep breath she put the box in her bag, wiped the tears from her face and began to walk around the room.

Looking at every treasure or relic that the family had acquired from generations past, she played with the objects she found, to distract herself from the recent fight.

While looking through an old box, she saw a strange book with a dark cover with a cherry tree on the cover, curious she picked it up and analyzed it. Yumi, didn't remember the book, so she decided to keep it in her bag, and then ask one of his brothers about the strange object.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow, she quickly took a knife out of her sleeve and threw it towards the shadow, but there was nothing.

Still with her senses alert, she walked to where the knife fell, picking it up and putting it away, examining her surroundings, again she felt a presence, and quickly had the blade in her hands, placing the object at the throat of the possible enemy, only to Seeing that the person who attacked was Seiji, who had his hands up in surrender, Yumi lowered the knife, letting out a tired sigh.

— Seiji, I know you're worried about me, but I want to be alone for a while

— you continue to be a small threat - said the boy, placing his hand on his throat to see if there were any cuts, letting out a small laugh.

— Seiji that's not funny, I could have pierced your throat- Yumi let out a sigh as she walked away from her brother, walking around the room again

— but it didn't pierce, I admit it was my fault for scaring you, but you didn't cut me so don't worry, and I was worried about you, Ren was an idiot bringing up that subject, so I came to see how you were- the Elder Yozakura spoke, looking at his sister, knowing this was a sensitive topic for her.

But Yumi wasn't listening, she knew that Ren didn't want to bring up that subject, but even though she knew that, it still hurt her, she knew very well that she was to blame for what happened, her brother didn't need to remind her of that fact.

The two brothers remained silent until Yumi broke it.

— When did you get this mirror? - the girl asked, approaching the object

On the wall was an ancient-looking mirror, made of silver, with various ornaments, for some reason Yumi seemed enchanted by it, for a very quick moment, Yumi no longer saw her reflection, but the image of a woman with dark skin, the The upper part was bare except for long sleeves made of a transparent fabric showing the tattoos, tattoos in white, he wore a thick gold necklace around his neck, the accessory looked more like a kind of collar, a crown that looked like the head of a snake, decorated the woman's black hair, which, due to the way it was tied up, strangely resembled the tail of a scorpion, the woman smiled at Yumi before disappearing, making the mirror reflect the girl again.

— I don't remember that mirror, it wasn't there before, YUMI GET OUT OF THERE! - Seiji shouted trying to get his sister away from the mirror but it was too late.

The girl still looked hypnotized, and she didn't move away from the mirror.

The mirror lit up in a strange green fire and a voice began to come out of it.

Ah...My dear beloved...

A beautiful... and noble flower of evil... Truly, you are the most beautiful of all...

Mirror, oh mirror on the wall... Tell me... Who is the...

Those who are guided by the Black Mirror... As long as your heart desires...

Take the hand that appears in the mirror…For me.

For them. For you.

We're all running out of time...

No matter what happens... Never let go of my hand.

A hand came out of the mirror, wearing an extravagant sleeve and had golden claws on its fingers, and Yumi, still bewitched, took that hand.

Seiji saw that, and shouted for the creature in the mirror to release his sister, but the girl was violently pulled into the mirror, and the last thing she heard was her brother shouting her name.

-where I am? -the girl asked herself confused, the last thing she remembered was being in the treasure room, and talking to Seiji, and now she didn't know what happened or where she was

She opened her eyes and saw herself in a dark, cold place, then she realized that she seemed to be underwater, the girl despaired, but she realized that strangely she could breathe, and for some reason she was floating, She was looking around, trying to understand what had happened.

Suddenly, seven mirrors appeared and surrounded her, from inside each mirror a hand came out, all different from each other.

She began to analyze, the first mirror had a heart on top, and was decorated with several playing cards.

The second had a drawing of a lion's head surrounded by what appeared to be animal bones.

The third had tentacles wrapped around it.

The room had a snake, and was a bit reminiscent of a kind of palace from the Arabian Nights stories.

The fifth had a beautiful peacock

The sixth had skulls.

And the seventh thorns.

Yumi looked at each mirror, and approached the mirror with the snake, but when she went to take that hand, tanned and wearing several gold bracelets and a white sleeve, the hand just pointed to another mirror, as if saying that Yumi should choose that one.

The mirror that hand was pointing at was identical to the mirror in front of Yumi, but it was in darker tones.

The girl approached the second mirror, and a tanned hand, wearing black sleeves, came out of it.

Yumi heard the sound of a snake, and without thinking much she took that hand, and unlike that first time Yumi felt someone kiss the back of her hand and gently pulled her in.

Inside the mirror the characteristic noise of a snake grew louder, and in that darkness she saw gray eyes looking at her, the eyes quickly turned red with the vertical pupils common to a snake.

And before she fell into a state of unconsciousness, she heard a strange voice speaking to her.

—Thank you for choosing me.

I apologize for my English, and for possible grammar errors, I ended up having some problems typing, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter, reblogs and likes are appreciated.