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fxtalitygod · 1 year ago

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VIII. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pet names (Little Flower used 5-6x) implied harsh parenting {on Sukuna's end), mentions of adult murder, implications of impregnating, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies (both human and animal), child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), NOT PROOFREAD YET (sorry ;-;)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: For starters, I want to clarify that I am choosing to purposely not mention the names of the twins. Although this makes it difficult on my end, I wanted you, the reader, to decide on the names of your choosing while reading.

P.S. This is the longest chapter I have written. Sorry it took so long but I hope it proves well and worth the wait. (╥﹏╥)

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX

You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their body contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were left to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.

Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.

Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollars of distress with its rapid thumping.

“Mama, look!” Two voices sounded.

Your breath hitched as the familiar calls rang through your head. The pounding in your chest quickened and strengthened when the footsteps got closer. Hearing their giggles and whispers caused your form to tense– not having the strength to say or do anything. How would you explain your current position? How would you tell them tha-

“Mama, are you alright?”

You snapped out of your daydream to see you were in front of the stream, taking care of your personal tasks, this chore being the cleansing of garments. The query of when you arrived there was unknown, but you would assume it had been for way longer than you should have resided in that area. The dreams you would endure during the solace of night, despite those nights being anything but comforting, had begun bleeding into the day and becoming more prevalent and gruesome. It was becoming quite the distraction.

"Mama?"

Before you could allow your thoughts to consume you, you focused your attention on your son and daughter, who were awaiting your reply with innocent eyes. Yeah, their virtue never ceased to amaze you. They were too good for this world– their empathy brought light to your soul that you believed had burnt out long ago– pride and joy.

You looked at your twins with an awaiting gaze as you watched their expressions turn into excitement at the realization they had caught your attention. You blinked once before being met with a piece of parchment littered with ink. It did not take long to realize that the twins had made you something in their short time away. Blinking up at the two, you gave them a fond grin before looking back down at the material. Upon viewing the parchment, you saw an image of what you assumed to be an image of a bird, and next to the picture was a small note.

" To show gratitude to our dearest mother," you read aloud before holding the small gift to your chest, "Thank you, my loves, it is lovely."

The joy on their faces from the small compliment warmed your heart, referring to your previous statement of them being too good for this world. There were moments when you could not believe that the twins were a product of you and Sukuna– that was a reoccurring thought you had often. They were, without doubt, your most significant and last blessing as things around the temple had not been going as smoothly as they once had been the first few years you resided in it, and it was clearly starting to take a toll on everybody, including you.

"Mama, guess what we learned today?" Your son exclaimed excitedly, causing you to jump a little, not expecting the sudden outburst of enthusiasm.

"Was it penmanship because the both of you are getting better. Have you been practicing like I have told you to?" You joked, poking at their bellies, causing them to giggle.

"No, Mama, Father taught us about Jujutsu!" your daughter shouted enthusiastically.

"Hey, I wanted to tell her," the boy pouted.

"Sorry," your little girl apologized as she turned to look at her brother with an apologetic look.

The sibling tried to look upset, not wanting to give in quite yet, but when he turned around to look at his sister's guilty expression, he launched to hug her. If you had said it twice, you were to state it a third time– the world did not deserve this pair– you could not stress that enough.

"Did he now?" you breathed, your anxiety slowly creeping to the back of your neck like it did so often.

You were aware of the agreement you made with Sukuna all those years ago, and as of things so far, you both were holding up to your ends of the deal. The twins continued to be educated under your supervision and occasionally your attendant. Your little girl and boy were now at the ripe age of six, at which they would begin manifesting their cursed energy, so they were now taking lessons under their father's supervision– that notion made you apprehensive of your deal.

As you previously mentioned, things were not going as smoothly as they once were. Your village has become slightly non-compliant recently. The traditional wedding ceremonies had stopped a little over a year ago as families started refusing to hand over their kin to Sukuna. Despite the disrespect, Sukuna had no care as he had plenty of women to satisfy him; however, to say that he was taking the rebellion lightly would be a complete lie. Over the last few years, more guards were posted for precautionary reasons. Nothing major had happened yet, only the occasional distant and muffled voices chanting in protest.

With such circumstances, emotions were running high, and the crowd only seemed to get bigger as the days passed. You could admit that some days were worse than others, but it did not change the fact that these events could cause a catastrophic resolution at the hands of your husband. Viewing the situation, there was no question that Sukuna would be more occupied than usual; however, it was not amid meetings or trivial tasks but with his children instead.

Sukuna could hardly be viewed as a legitimate father but rather a mentor– a cruel one based on the round, tear-stained cheeks that would walk into the garden after they had spent their designated time with their dad. The only children who seemed the slightest bit content with their learnings were your son and daughter. Your twins have not been training for long, but they had outlasted most other kids regarding their spirits breaking. The first day your little boy and girl had left to meet with Sukuna, you could not help but feel nervous; however, when they came back, they were all giggles and smiles as they told you of their time with the man they call father. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but despite that astonishment, you were simply glad they left a good impression and walked out unscathed, their spirits still intact.

"So, have your studies with your father come to fruition yet?" You asked, not thinking of your wording as the question effortlessly slipped from your tongue.

"Come to fruition?" your son repeated, looking at his sister to see if she understood the meaning of your words.

Despite your children being clever, they were still young and naive, and that naivety could not help but make you laugh gently as you watched them whisper to each other as they tried to decipher the saying. They paused in their little hushed conversation at your breathy giggle, flustered as they looked at you, hoping you would grant them the knowledge they wanted.

"Mama, stop laughing. What does it mean?" the two whined in sync as they looked at you with awaiting eyes.

"Alright," you managed to say between your little fits of giggles, "It means to succeed in the progression of a goal. In this case, did you reach the intended goal of your lessons today?"

Your twins thought over your words for a minute before a look of realization washed over their faces. The two looked at one another to make sure the other understood, finding they were both on the same page before turning to your now-awaiting gaze. Smiles were once again plastered to their expressions of proudness.

"Not exactly," your daughter stated.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" you questioned with a raised brow as you looked for an answer.

"Well...we do not have cursed energy yet, but Father said it was okay because we will..." Your son trailed off before looking at his sister for assistance, trying to remember the exact words Sukuna had used.

"Manifest!" your daughter shouted in revelation after a moment of thought.

"Oh yes, manifest! He said it was okay because 'we will manifest our cursed energy soon enough,'" your son finished, ignoring the distant whispers and tiny gasps that had suddenly emerged from the surrounding women and children.

"And you both will, I am sure of that– my intuition is never wrong," a deep voice resonated behind the twins.

You froze as you looked up to see Sukuna looking down at you, a proud grin on his face as he let the words settle. Your smile had long disappeared, your lips forming into a tight line as you met his gaze. His presence was not what had upset you as you had grown familiar with his company and unexpected visits, but rather the fact that you knew he was right.

"Father!" the twins shouted, bowing before going in to hug his legs, looking up at him with their innocent doe-like eyes that shone the color of your own hues, little flecks of what seemed to be crimson could also be seen if the light hit them just right.

Your heart stopped for a second as you watched your four-armed companion freeze on the spot at the sudden attention. Although you knew Sukuna could not lay a hand upon his children due to the contents of the pact you had made with him, it did not eliminate the uneasiness you had, worried of the thought he would grow to distaste them. The curse-user was not a man of tenderness nor liked to be presented with such fondness, especially from his offspring. There was no room for weaklings in his realm, in hid brigade of suitable heirs.

You sit there, waiting for his reaction, chewing on your lip to the point it draws a small amount of blood. The man stood stiff, looking down at the two smaller beings that clung to his legs in a warm greeting before moving to bend down, causing your heart to spike in rhythm. The questions flooded your brain once more like they often did when it involved your significant other's actions. Sukuna took a set of his arms, placing one on each twin's back before meeting their eye level.

"Did I ever indulge either of you with the story of how I found out about your mother's conceiving of the both of you?" Sukuna asked, an arched brow with a devious smile as he switched eye contact from one twin to the other.

"No," your son replied honestly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

With that short answer, Sukuna looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes before redirecting his focus on his kids once more.

"I knew that your mother would one day bear the fruit of her fertility, but there was one particular evening where I could sense an odd presence. I immediately called upon your mother, and when I was met with her physique, I could tell she was with child. It would have been unnoticeable, but my perception is unlike the average man. Looking at your mother, I could see her stomach was softer and slightly rounder, her ankles somewhat swollen, and her breasts enlarged."

You held back the bile rising in your throat as your husband explained his side of the story you knew all too well, remembering the exact events that led up to that day. His vulgar description of the event sickened you to the core.

"Your mother was unaware of her condition, but I was. The moment I felt her stomach, I could feel the presence of not one but two essences in her womb. I remember the look on her face when I told her– pure shock."

Sukuna's words offended you because pure shock was an understatement. You were undeniably mortified that day, but you would never admit that to your children. For their happiness's sake, you were willing to push the bitter memories of your pregnancy aside. They did not need to know your previous disdain for them– you had not even met them yet. What they did not know could not hurt them.

"How could you sense both of our essences?" Your daughter questioned, tilting her head as Sukuna focused his attention on her.

"Always the curious one, aren't you?" Sukuna noted, a teasing grin forming on his face.

"Mama says it is always best to stay curious because you will never learn anything new if you are too stubborn or scared to keep asking questions."

"Did she now?" Sukuna's grin grew wider as he drew his attention back to you, "And what do you believe that is a lesson of?"

"Fearlessness?" your daughter answered hesitantly.

"Close, but not quite," Sukuna started, "She is teaching you confidence."

"Is that not the same thing, Father?" your daughter questioned again.

"Not exactly, my child," The curse-user paused, looking at you for a fleeting moment before continuing, "being fearless is alright in certain circumstances– something as frivolous as a mouse is something to lack fear of, but there are certain things you should fear. Fear, my child, is what keeps you alive; however, it can be crippling at times. It is the confidence to overcome those fears that lets you survive."

"Why have you come here, Sukuna?" you suddenly asked, becoming tired and uncomfortable with his lingering presence. You knew that the man had not come for idle conversation and to share invasive stories nor explain your teachings.

Had your twins been any older, they would have caught onto your passive aggression as you addressed their father, staring at him blankly as he drew his attention to you. You were aware of the line you were crossing, aware of the hostility you were presenting in the presence of your children, despite the obliviousness of it, but with high tension in the temple and his sudden visit, you felt you had every right to feel uneased. Sukuna's gaze turned from teasing mischief into a grave look.

"Well, Y/n, I wish not to sully our bonding with grave matters," the man spoke, returning your passive-aggressive tone, "we'll speak of it later."

"So why did you come, father?" Your boy asked, looking up at the tall man.

"Must I have a reason to visit my kin?" Sukuna teased.

"Well, we do not see you much outside of lessons," your daughter jumped in with her own comment.

"Observant as well, huh?" Sukuna huffed, pausing for a moment before speaking up once more, "I was wondering if you both would accompany me on a hunt?"

That question caused their little orbs to light up, their little heads turning to you, silently begging for your approval. Looking at their pleading eyes, you could not say no, giving a nod of approval. If they were cheerful before, they were exhilarated now. These kids were to be the death of you if a simple pair of puppy dog eyes could make you cave like this, and you were okay with that.

"Can Mama come too?

Your blood ran cold at the mention of your name. There was no particular reason to be troubled, but at this point, it was a habit for these tense feelings to rise whenever your name was mentioned. So, as you look at your supposed significant other, you could feel yourself about to explain how you had other activities to attend to.

"I do not see why not."

Now, that was unexpected.

The words you were going to speak paused in your throat, swallowing them down when your little boy and girl rushed up to you after hearing Sukuna's approval, hugging you as they tugged on your hands to stand. What was he playing at? Despite the inquiry of his intentions, you had to push it aside as you saw the thrilled look on your children's faces–they most likely wanted to show off what they had learned while spending time with their father. They always returned with smiles of pride after spending time with their dad. You would give up your life to see them smile at you like that for as long as you lived, so you followed them as they walked beside Sukuna despite your own apprehension.

Time slowly passed as you trekked quietly through the nearby woods, watching Sukuna's movement as he led the three of you through the brush, pausing when something caught his eye. It took only a moment for a bow to appear in his hand, but when you had expected him to use it, he motioned over to your son, giving the child the weapon. Every motherly instinct told you to confiscate the bow, but quickly reminded yourself of your pact both in regards that Sukuna was bound to protect your children from harm and that you had accepted he could use any training methods he deemed necessary– this being one of them.

Sukuna was crouched the lowest he could get, arms hovering over your boy's form, guiding his son while speaking in a low voice as the two focused on the prey ahead. Looking into the small clearing, you could see a few grazing rabbits, clueless and defenseless to the threat before them, nibbling on the dewy grass. The bow's snap and the sight of an impaled rabbit caused you to return from your light daze, turning over to see your son smiling in excitement.

"Did you see that, Mama? I did it!" the boy beamed, maintaining a hushed voice.

You gave your son a warm smile, nodding in reassurance before watching your son switch places with your daughter. The rabbits that previously remained in the clearing had run off, but one straggler emerged from bushes, unaware of what had occurred, clueless about its impaled companion. In a mere few moments, the creature suffered the same fate as the previous one, bringing joy to your little girl. She turned to you with the same smile as her brother's– it frightened you.

You had no doubt that you loved your children for who they were. You loved their innocence, passion, and joyful nature, but a realization had dawned upon you in these moments– one that made your heart drop to your stomach.

"Mama, you try!" your daughter called out, grabbing your hand as she led you toward a better spot to shoot from, that spot closer to Sukuna.

Their reason for upbringing would be to take their father's place, to be his heir, and Sukuna was not giving that role to a charitable and naive son or daughter. Things seemed pleasant for now, and your children might keep their nature through adulthood, but one thing was for sure. Whether they stayed that way or not, they would feel justified in their actions– believe what they were doing was good because that is what their father was teaching them, and you were enabling it.

"Darling, I'm not sure that it would be wise for me-"

"I think it is a marvelous idea," Sukuna interrupted, standing from his crouched position and grabbing your waist.

You felt the man's hands slither up your body, messing with the material of your clothing before touching your flesh. Your skin burned unpleasantly as his hands settled, a faux attempt to adjust your form when you were capable; however, with your twins present, you would not dare cause a stir. Looking at the clearing, there was nothing seemingly there as all the critters that previously inhabited it ran off.

"There's nothing for me to target, so maybe we should end this," you suggested, trying to excuse yourself from this activity, keeping a low tone.

"If nothing is there, why do you whisper, Little Flower?" Sukuna responded in a hushed voice, feeling his smirk form as his face rested against your cheek.

Before you could respond, the sound of fluttering was heard. Without thought, you lifted the bow's angle, shooting the arrow into the air– a thud sounded shortly after as whatever you had shot hit the ground. Looking down, you could see a bird skewered with an arrow, blood pooling from its limp body and staining the grass surrounding it.

"Mama, you did it!" the twins exclaimed, thrilled you had participated.

Their sounds of excitement were drowned out by the ringing of your ears as your gaze lingered on the deceased animal. What had you done? Yes, you had viewed death without so much as a flinch, but you were not the one with blood on your hands. You were unaware you could perform such an action– you had never held a weapon before, only a mere kitchen knife.

It disturbed you.

How did you kill the helpless creature so instinctively? So effortlessly? The worst part is...

It felt good.

The ringing eventually subsided as the bow settled to your side, turning your head toward the two-faced man you called 'husband' and handed it to him. Thankfully, Sukuna took the item with no smug remark or wicked grin, giving you one of his infamous blank looks before moving his gaze toward the kids, motioning for them in the direction of the temple, settling one of his hands at the small of your back as you all started the walk back.

Making the hike back, you settled on your earlier realization regarding your children. You would love them until the end of time, and you had no doubt about that; whether they were inherently good or bad– you would love them. But now, as you continue to think, all you can think about is the future. Where would you and your twins be standing in the years to come? What kind of life would you three indulge in if you were all to live? How many bodies would have to pile under your feet before you were guaranteed genuine safety for you and them?

For the years under the same roof as Sukuna, you had been focusing on your mother's words, the promise you had made to her.

"I promise I will survive– longer than anyone."

Your life had been summed up by that promise. So far, you have kept faithful to it because you have been surviving. From your wedding day to your pregnancy, to the many inspections you attended, all up until now, as you approached the temple, you have been surviving. You played all the right cards to get you here and made all the right sacrifices to keep your children alive– what more could you ask for? You were alive and breathing along with your children, and that is all that truly mattered, right?

No.

You may have been playing this game of survival and have been successful thus far, but there was one thing you had failed to do...

Live, you had failed to truly live.

You have played your part in your husband's sick game. You married him, gave him your purity, gave him children, and now you were done. You were more than aware of the pact you had made with your husband, but almost every contract had a loophole whether it could be seen or not.

"We are relocating."

Your heart rate accelerated as Sukuna bent down to whisper those words into your ear, the words taking a moment to register. Was it out of fear? Anger? Possibly both? No. It was excitement. You had given your word that you would never leave the temple unless it was under Sukuna's supervision and say so. Unless he accompanied you outside those gates, you would remain here; however, you had never given your word to stay by his side.

You had given your word to stay at the temple.

The curse-user had just given your confirmation of freedom without being aware he was doing so.

"May I ask why?" you dug, trying to keep your composure to not seem suspicious, as if he could tell what you were thinking if you had shown the slightest emotion.

"I have simply grown bored of this place, plus I have got what I needed from these people, and they all stand right here before me," Sukuna explained, the last part of his statement being clear that he was referring to you and the twins.

"Where would that leave my village?"

Now, that was a genuine question. You were not as concerned for your village but rather your family instead. The four-armed beast of a man was not known for leaving a town so quietly– you had heard plenty of notorious stories from survivors to prove that.

"What of it?"

"Will it remain in one piece, or will it be returned to the dirt?"

"That entirely depends on them, Little Flower."

The answer was vague– it was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but you could understand the meaning behind his words. For the sake of your family, you hoped that the village elders would not perform anything stupid. You hoped they could shove their egos aside and let Sukuna leave the town with what minimal disturbance he was willing to make. Everything you have worked so hard to achieve would be ruined without their cooperation.

Approaching the temple, you could not help but feel the delight swell in your chest. After years of this torment, this unjustified punishment, you are finally going to be free. You have survived, and now you will live. The journey has been difficult, but now you will achieve the tranquility and normalcy you deserve. Your children will have the chance to live a standard and carefree life, unlike the competitive and tiring one they would achieve with their father.

It was finally over.

Arriving at the temple did not feel as bitter this time, watching your children running to your attendant as she greeted you all, giving a respectful bow before taking off with the children, most likely heading off to eat. It was quiet as you stood in the garden; everyone else had gone to fill their appetite– it was just you and Sukuna.

"What has you smiling so brightly, Little Flower."

You had not noticed it, but you had plastered a broad, foolish grin onto your face. Usually, your partner catching this would have brought you anxiety as you thought of the right words, but you did not feel that way– quite the opposite. You were proud that he had noticed, allowing your smile to grow wider.

"I feel like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders, and I cannot wait to leave this place."

"I am glad I could bring such relieving news and bring a smile to your face," Sukuna responded, smiling down at you before taking your chin between his fingers and bending down, "Once you put the children to sleep, come seek me out as we have much more to discuss."

You could only smile stupidly, nodding and allowing Sukuna to kiss you before heading to your children. You did not care what the two-faced monster had to share with you, but you would indulge him because this would be the last time you would ever have to.

You were free.

"Oh, hello, Y/n-sama! We were just finishing our meals. Should I fix you something as well?" your attendant offered, keeping a light-hearted tone.

The young woman had grown more confident with you over the years. The two of you had grown quite close after the birth of your children– she was the only person you full-heartedly trusted with your kids. Maybe you would take her with you in your escape; she was far too good to serve ungrateful and bitter women.

"No, thank you, I am not that hungry; however, I have grown rather tired, meaning it is time for bed."

"Awwwwww," you twins whined in unison, looking at your attendant with puppy dog eyes, hoping she could convince you, only to receive a shake of her head.

The twins stood begrudgingly, approaching your awaiting stance, giving you the same desperate eyes. You gave your own silent response as you offered a warm smile and a quick shake of your head before having them follow you down the halls. In any other scenario, you would have in, but things were different now. Your children need to be well-rested for the upcoming events. You were going to give them the life they deserved.

Arriving at their sleep quarters, you slid the door open, allowing the twins in first before following. Before closing the door, you took a peek out into the hallway to make sure no one was approaching. Once you deduced nobody was coming, you slowly and quietly slid the door shut, quick to approach your kids' bedside.

"Mama, do we have to go to bed?" your daughter whined.

"Yeah, do we really have to?" your son followed.

You could not help but lightly chuckle at their resistance to sleep. Your heart filled with warmth as you remembered sharing a similar moment with your mother. There were many occasions they reminded you of yourself, and you could not wait to see more of those similarities manifest when you leave this temple. You could not wait to give them a regular and well-deserved life.

"Yes, you both have to rest. You two need to preserve your energy for the days to come."

That statement piqued their interest, their faces perking up with intrigue.

"What is to come, Mama?" the twins sounded in unison like they did so often in these moments. Sometimes, it was almost as if they shared the same mind.

"Well, soon enough, you will get to meet your grandparents," you whispered, "you cousins, aunts, and uncles, all from Mama's side of the family."

"Really?!" the two shouted, settling down when you gestured for them to lower their voices.

"Yes, but do not tell your father, it is..." you trailed, picking your words carefully, "a surprise visit just for the three of us, and I do not want him to feel left out."

There was no doubt that you despised Sukuna in every sense of the word, but you did not wish for your children to hate him. Believe it or not, you wanted your twins to paint a good picture of their father, and whether that picture remained clean was up to Sukuna himself– you would not tarnish his name for him.

"Okay, Mama, we promise we will not tell." your son spoke for the two of them, his sibling nodding in turn as she motioned to seal her lips.

You smiled, whispering a small thank you before kissing the top of their foreheads and letting them rest. You stood quietly, blowing out the candles illuminating the room before leaving. Once you stepped foot into the hallway, you were startled to see a guard, a familiar one at that, though he had clearly aged with time.

"Y/n-sama, I have been instructed to take you to your sleeping chambers," the male spoke before swiftly turning on his heel to lead you to your room.

The man's voice was cold and almost distant as he spoke to you, but his voice was familiar. You were acquainted with most of the staff within the temple, but you could not remember where you had met him in particular, though he seemed familiar and significant. Your face contorted as your mind pondered, trying to recognize his face in your personal timeline, but nothing came to mind.

"Your wedding night," the guard spoke suddenly, noticing your expression of thought, "I held and guarded the door during your wedding night."

You thought back to your wedding day, and it suddenly hit you. The guard was the same one Sukuna had forced to watch the consummation of your marriage. You quickly grew flustered at the memory, clearing your throat before speaking.

"I recall now," you responded, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you happy, Y/n-sama?" another unshakable tone as he questioned you.

Why was he asking this?

"Yes, I'm happy."

You did not know what this man was playing at, but you did not want to fall into any traps, so you gave the preferred answer when this question was presented to you on many occasions.

"Even though you have suffered all these years, bearing and raising his offspring?"

"Excuse me?" you grimaced at the guard's words.

"Nothing, I am sorry, I have overstepped my boundaries. I will leave you now," the man uttered, leaving you at the doorway to your sleeping quarters.

You narrowed your eyes, staring as the male's figure grew smaller in the distance. What did he gain from that interaction? No matter– it was no longer your problem to deal with. Collecting yourself, you entered the room and immediately faced Sukuna.

"Come and close the door. We must speak of these urgent matters in private," Sukuna muttered as he blankly stared at the wall in front of him.

You did not question the man and slid the door closed, approaching him as he turned to you. Before you could speak, Sukuna placed a pair of hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. His gaze held no emotion you could directly name, but you could sense an urgency in his tone as he spoke to you.

"We leave tonight. The others have been informed and are gathering their belongings– I advise you to do the same."

"What?! Now?! Sukuna, what is going on that you are not telling anyone?" you urged, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Now is no time to be questioning me, Y/n. Hurry, we are leaving shortly."

"No."

The word slipped out without thought. You did not care when you left because your plans would not change, but your partner was acting strangely, and you could not help but be curious as to why. The curiosity is what led you to stand there motionless as your husband stared you down.

"Stubborn as always, I see," the curse-user muttered, "Fine, you want to know, huh? We made a pact, and I'm upholding the bargain. You told me to protect those children, right? Well, for their interest, we are leaving, so be grateful."

You stood there silently, looking into Sukana's unwavering gaze.

"What is going on?" you repeated the question.

"Your village plans to lay siege, and we are leaving to not get caught in the firing radius."

That explained the tensity and whispers among the temple. That explained the extra protection. Everything now made sense and you could not help the feeling of something rising up your throat.

Laughter.

You laughed uncontrollably, trying to cover your mouth to muffle the outburst, but to no avail. Nothing about the situation was logically funny, but you could not control yourself.

"After years of torment, they only now decide to lay siege?" you cackled, "And the best part is that Ryomen Sukuna is fleeing with his tail between his legs."

You should have seen what was to come next when you made that last statement, feeling your hair being tugged to look up at the man you had insulted. Your laugh quickly subsided, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stared into his orbs. You had crossed a line this time, but for once, you were not scared of the intimidation; however, what had shocked you was Sukuna smashing his lips against yours.

"I am the most feared man in Japan– I have no reason to be scared, at least for myself. I am doing this for us and our creation because I love you, Little Flower."

"You do not love me. You love what I can do for you, Sukuna."

"I see where our children have gotten their observance." Sukuna joked, "But you are not entirely wrong. However, that does not change the fact we are leaving right here and now so collec-"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

The deformed man paused mid-sentence at the high-pitched scream, storming out of the room to see the commotion. You wasted no time in following him, walking down the hall before being met with the stench of blood. Had one of the pregnant wives gone into labor? Was someone injured? Or was...

Before you could finish that last thought, you were met with the sight of a lifeless body surrounded by its own red fluid. It was disturbingly familiar, and that was because it was the body of the guard that had escorted you earlier. You were shocked at his mangled state, his face just barely beyond recognition, but before you could allow the shock to settle in, another sound of screams was heard in the opposite direction.

Without thought, you bolted in the direction the screams came from. You flew past those blank walls faster than you knew you were capable of before landing at the sight of another body surrounded by women. It was your attendant, her face frozen in fear, her body almost in the same state as the previous one. This death hit you harder than the earlier one as you covered your mouth, keeping the bile from rising up your throat.

Despite the grief and sickness you were feeling, you could only think of one thing, and that was your twins. You lingered for a second longer before running to your twin's bedroom. You had not noticed, but Sukuna trailed behind you closely as you sprinted through the temple. Your breath was running ragged, but you would be damned if you were to leave your twins behind in this gruesome mess.

You made it to the door, sliding it open and rushing in, your eyes scanning the room for your twins, but they were nowhere to be seen. Your heart hammered against her chest as you began to panic, turning to Sukuna to see that his face was once again blank as he looked into the room from the doorway. Why did he have that look on his face? It did not matter– you had to search for your children. You turned to look back into the interior room, looking up from the bedrolls to be met with the wall, and heard the sound of a scream once again, your heart dropping.

You had found your twins hanging from the wall, a message written above them that was written in their own blood.

"Bring back our daughter."

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @alurafairy @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @gojosluts7789@all4koo@hyperfixationsporfavor

#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #tw stockholm syndrome #tw death mention #tw dead body #tw suggestive #tw child murder

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bebe-writes-stuff · 8 months ago

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Kazutora x Y/n smut

--TWO SMUTS IN ONE DAY??? crazy ik, we on a grind ho--

--bitchhh I can't write smut It makes me so embarrassed istg I PHYSICALLY CANT DO IT HELP MEEE----

The evening air was cool at Musashi Shrine, the tranquility punctuated by the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life. Kazutora sat on the shrine steps, his shoulders slumped, eyes reflecting the turmoil inside him. Y/n watched him quietly, her heart heavy with concern. The gang meeting had ended hours ago, but Kazutora lingered, reluctant to face the chaos of his home life.

Kazutora sighed deeply, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just don't want to go home, Y/n. I can't deal with my family right now."

Y/n's eyes softened with empathy as she moved closer, her hand gently touching his arm. "I get it, Kazutora. I know." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face as an idea formed. "Why don't you stay with me tonight? My parents are out of the city for the next three days, and I'm all alone."

Kazutora's eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over him. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

"Of course, I'm sure!" Y/n grinned, playfully nudging him with her shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun. We can have a mini sleepover."

Kazutora chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "Alright, if you insist."

The walk to Y/n's house was filled with light banter, the weight of Kazutora's troubles momentarily lifting. As they stepped inside, Y/n's excitement was palpable. She dashed to the kitchen, grabbing an assortment of snacks before leading Kazutora to her room.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said, spreading the snacks out on her bed and turning on the TV. "I've got all the good shows lined up."

Kazutora couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "You're really going all out, huh?"

"Absolutely," Y/n replied, plopping down beside him and popping open a bag of chips. "Oh, and I got you some PJs from my dad's closet. They should fit you."

Kazutora took the offered pajamas with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Y/n. You're the best."

Y/n beamed. "I know," she teased, sticking her tongue out playfully. "Now, let's get comfy and enjoy the night."

After changing into the pajamas, Kazutora joined Y/n on the bed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. They watched TV, laughing at the absurdity of the show they had picked. Y/n's lighthearted commentary had Kazutora in stitches, his laughter filling the room.

"I can't believe you find this so funny," Kazutora said between chuckles. "You're ridiculous."

"It's called having a good sense of humor," Y/n retorted

As the night went on, Y/n pulled out her skincare routine, explaining each step with an endearing seriousness. Kazutora listened intently, his heart swelling at her genuine care and attention.

"First, we cleanse," she said, holding up a bottle of face wash. "You gotta get rid of all the dirt and grime from the day."

Kazutora followed her lead, mimicking her movements. "You really know your stuff, huh?"

"Of course! Skincare is important," Y/n replied with a wink. "Next, we tone. This helps to balance your skin's pH."

Kazutora nodded, fascinated by her dedication. "You're really something else, Y/n."

She grinned, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. "I just want you to feel good, Kazutora."

By the time they finished, Kazutora felt a strange mix of calm and elation. Turning off the TV, Y/n flopped back onto the bed, a content sigh escaping her lips. Kazutora joined her, and they started gossiping about random things, their laughter filling the room once more.

As they chatted, they involuntarily edged closer, the space between them shrinking. At one point, Kazutora's gaze lingered on Y/n's lips, a thought forming in his mind.

"Y/n," he began hesitantly, his voice soft. "Can I ask you something?"

Y/n turned to him, curiosity shining in her eyes. "What's up?"

Kazutora took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Can I kiss you?"

A surprised look crossed Y/n's face, followed by a shy smile. "Yeah, you can."

He leaned in slowly, their lips meeting in a gentle, tentative kiss. The simplicity of it made Y/n's heart flutter. What started as a sweet kiss quickly deepened, the intensity growing between them. Kazutora's hand cupped Y/n's cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

As their kisses grew more fervent, they found themselves entangled, bodies pressing closer together. Kazutora's breath hitched as Y/n's hand roamed over his chest, her touch igniting a fire within him.

"Y/n," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire. "You're driving me crazy."

Y/n responded by pressing her body against his, her hands sliding down to his waistband. She began to rub him through his clothes, feeling him grow harder under her touch. Kazutora groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"Fuck, Y/n," he gasped, his voice raw with need. "You feel so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, Y/n slipped her hand into his pants, wrapping her fingers around his throbbing length. She started to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate, feeling him twitch in her grasp. Kazutora's breaths came in ragged gasps, his eyes fluttering shut. Without a word, Y/n lowered her head, taking him into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, and Kazutora's hands tangled in her hair as she worked him with her lips and tongue. The heat of her mouth and the expert movements of her tongue drove him wild. His climax hit him hard, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he released into her mouth.

As he came down from his high, Kazutora pulled Y/n up into his arms, kissing her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and lingering desire.

Y/n smiled, snuggling into his embrace. "I think I have some idea," she replied, her voice soft and affectionate.

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amorremanet · 2 years ago

Note

For Fandom confession ask game: I think jiang cheng loved Wei wuxian in a more than brotherly or platonic way but didn't have the emotional knowledge to recognize it and that's why it hurt him so bad when Wei wuxian defected from the jiang sect and later went off lan wangji because Wei wuxian was supposed to be his person and he left him behind

Y E A H

YEAH

And this isn't even me being amatonormative about it, because it doesn't even have to be romantic or sexual to be an intensity that is beyond what is typical of siblings or best friends or sworn confidantes. I posted once about how Jiang Cheng embodies Jo March's reaction to John Brooke asking to court Meg in Little Women:

“Of course not. It would be idiotic! I knew there was mischief brewing. I felt it, and now it’s worse than I imagined. I just wish I could marry Meg myself, and keep her safe in the family.“

IF ONLY HE COULD MARRY WEI WUXIAN HIMSELF AND KEEP HIM SAFE IN THE FAMILY!!

Of course, if you are interpreting this in a romantic/sexual context, there is SO MUCH to unpack there, especially re: his resentment towards Wangji, and it is outrageous to me that it's not one of the top Jiang Cheng ships.

#i just want to add two things about this: 1. mxtx FUCKING KNEW she made them Like This; the gossiping randos in ch 1 use a term for jc&wwx’s #relationship that is apparently predominantly associated with full romo m/f childhood sweethearts than with whatever these two are supposed #to be doing (there is a post somewhere analyzing this & saying that some ppl in cn fandom were genuinely confused abt jc being wwx’s romo ex #& 2. honestly from a cultural perspective here? ‘whatever NHS has going on’ is WAY closer to Normal Brother Behavior or at least closer to #Normal Family Behavior. my reasoning goes back to wen ruohan murdering daddy nie. HEAR ME OUT: filial vengeance is A Big Deal in certain #sources. not like universally A Big Deal but it’s A Big Deal in ways that (to me personally; may be wrong) mesh really well with nmj’s whole #Thing (read: raging justice-boner) (blah blah blah fine line btwn justice & vengeance). ANYWAY: the sunshot campaign is a rebellion against #a tyrannical weirdo yes. but let’s recall that nmj’s big personal motivation is ‘wen ruohan killed my father & MUST DIE BY *MY* HAND.’#the sunshot campaign is also partially nmj giving his & nhs’s father a big offering of filial vengeance that’s more fucked up than a college #freshman in new orleans for mardi gras………except Not Fucking Really bc meng yao swoops in at the last minute & ACTUALLY kills wen ruohan. oop #(i have a whole bunch of other Feelings on that as pertains to nieyao/3zun but that’s not the point. the point is nmj is being perma-edged #abt his filial piety vengeance-boner which can fundamentally never be satisfied AND he has to feel Grateful to the guy who stole it from him #bc if a-yao HADN’T stolen it from him then nmj would have died on his knees in nightless sky. tbh the golden core transfer parallels are A+)#now nmj is a parentified sibling to nhs in a lot of ways. we can litigate how well he fills the role until the cows come home; he’s still #the closest thing nhs has to a father after nie daddy dies. & then jgy—the san-ge who also stole nmj’s kill & made it so nie daddy’s spirit #would never be Properly Avenged by his sons—goes & kills nmj. not gonna litigate the morality of that; it’s irrelevant. nhs has already had #to live with knowing that: a. his father’s soul will never be properly avenged; & b. he did exactly jackshit to help with that bc he spent #the sunshot campaign hiding away in gusu. now nmj’s spirit needs vengeance & nhs is LITERALLY the only person alive who can give him the #Exact Correct Flavor of Vengeance/Justice (which is probably a very pressing issue since nmj should’ve had tranquilization rites but became #a powerful fierce corpse regardless). TL;DR: nhs’s fraternal devotion while unhinged in its own way is not actually THAT far outside the #bounds of Normal Family Behavior if you look at the larger context. it takes him 5ever & getting mxy to revive wwx bc nhs knows his own #limits & knows that wwx can pull a lot of shit that he for various reasons cannot. but that only makes nhs patient not like THAT unhinged.#tbh the way that he drags lxc into things at the last second is (to me) The Most Unhinged thing he does. bc based on the empathy sesh with #nmj’s head? he doesn’t seem to hold lxc responsible for anything (even tho lxc’s action/lack thereof & trust/lack thereof were huge fucking #factors in why everything fell apart how it did with jgy killing nmj)—but nhs while nominally avenging nmj drags lxc into things & it may or #may not be about punishing lxc so much as making sure that jgy died in the most pain that nhs could imagine (btwn mutilating meng shi’s body #& having lxc be The Fucking One to deliver the stab that actually kills jgy? A+ well done you’ve succeeded in causing Maximim Pain huaisang)#& well that’s unhinged in his pursuit of vengeance for HIS OWN sense of betrayal more than for nmj. bc nhs overlooked the ‘kill stole for my #da-ge’s filial piety vengeance boner’ thing & LOVED jgy. welcomed jgy into his life as a new gege (probs at least a little bc jgy saved nmj)#but then san-ge betrayed that forgiveness & that love by killing da-ge so nhs wants him to feel Maximum Betrayed at the moment of his death

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thezoe611 · 5 months ago

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"Nega-Scrooge looked at the little mouse with confusion, not understanding what he wanted to get to… …But it all made sense when Timothy pulled out a pink bow, worn with time… The old duck felt that he lost his speech when he saw that treasure that he thought he had lost. -… I'm sorry… You told me that if I stole again, they would beat the scientist… but I couldn't help it… - Timothy confessed, with his ears down-… I'm so sorry…- he apologized, holding the cloth object closer. Nega-Scrooge looked at him with shining eyes, unable to control his emotions when he saw his treasure again. With trembling hands, the old man held up the faded pink bow, while his mind was invaded by little Webby's memories of him. The girl always smiled mischievously, with her black bear teddy in her arms, as she ran alongside the triplets, wanting to participate in some training, to which Donald scolded them, saying they weren't ready, watched by Launchpad, Fenton, Gyro and several members of the clan… … Oh… His family… The old duck clung to the pink bow as if his life depended on it, eyes squeezed shut, unable to hold back the tears, overwhelmed with pain… and relief… …He didn’t lose his last treasure… Gosalyn looked at the mobster from where she was… The old duck who always watched with a smirk as Nega-Launchpad hit her, now cried like a heartbroken old man… … She was never going to forgive him for everything that Nega-Scrooge put her through… but… but she couldn't help but feel sorry for that poor old man… The young woman looked at Negaduck, who was staring at his enemy, serious. She took his hand, which he immediately clung to, not looking at her. -I-I'm sorry… Don't cry… I know you're mean… but don't cry…- Timothy asked, moving closer to the wheelchair. -Oh… Timothy Cratchit…- Nega-Scrooge looked at the little boy, smiling despite the tears running down his cheeks- What you have done… has been cruelty- -Eh?! B-But…!- the kid was confused, but the old man chuckled, tired. -As I told you before… You have great potential, lad… You could become a fearsome villain when you grow up- Nega-Scrooge told him, stroking his head, making Timothy blink-… But also so much empathy… That's what makes children so wonderful… They never cease to amaze you… - he assured, lowering his arm, and looking at his counterpart, who had approached, placing his hand on Timothy's shoulder. -… You don't deserve any empathy for what you did, and you know it…- the billionaire told him- But you have my understanding… If that can be worth anything…- -… Stingy… - the mobster smiled tiredly, leaning his back on the chair…"

Okay, this week marks 3 years since Unstoppable! I still have a lot of love for that project… even though I almost went crazy translating everything to English (and I know there are still spelling mistakes, I still apologize for that^^') (I guess that has put me behind with the "The Beauty and the Beast" project. I know I'll suffer when I finish and have to translate, but I'm not giving up yet!)

The thing is, I wanted to draw one of my favorite scenes, when Nega-Scrooge gets back the only thing he has left of his little Webby. I find his situation so profound and tragic. Yes, he should never have used Gosalyn to hurt Negaduck, and he was the one who tricked the villain in the past and tried to kill him… but losing practically his entire clan… The loss of the triplets, Webby, Donald, Gyro… It hurt him too much, and it gave him a great desire for revenge.

And Timothy appears. A child who, didn't change the mind of Mafia Boss McDuck, but made him remember how wonderful and mischievous children can be… opening once again the horrible wound of loss.

And although in the story Negaduck confesses [SPOILER] that he didn't kill the kids, that it was an accident caused by them, that would not have changed Nega-Scrooge. He would still blame Negaduck, he would still want revenge on him, and he would use the most precious thing for the villain for it: his love for Gosalyn, the closest thing he has to a daughter.

So yes, a rather complex character, one that I would have liked to write more about, I don't deny it.

I thank @rebellingstagnationblog again for allowing me to write this story. And also for the entire Geronimo Saga. Those stories helped me in a very stressful moment, to the point that this tumblr page is dedicated only to drawing random things from the story^^'

So that's it, three years since such a project in English. Thanks for reading^^!

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drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year ago

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All My Dreaming, It's Only Given a Name

Inspired by the Hozier song "To Someone in a Warmer Climate"... I'm fucking obsessed with it. I can't stop listening to it. If you haven't heard it, you simply MUST.

Harry woke up slowly, the room was still dark, his body warm and so content he couldn't be bothered by the ways his muscles twinged with the need to shift.

There was a comforting weight around his shoulders, a hand in his hair, anchoring him to the warm presence beneath him. A second hand had slipped under his shirt, hot palm cupping his side.

Godric, he never wanted to move again.

"Hi," murmured softly against his temple, lips brushing over his forehead in a lazy approximation of a kiss.

His heart swelled and burst, pressing against his ribs, pushing his lungs until he couldn't breathe with it; this easy, gentle affection. A love so full, so gentle that it felt like the tide washing over him and pulling him along. Words seemed to great a feat, so he just pressed his nose into Draco's collarbone, hoped it was enough.

"Hello, darling," whispered soft and sweet into Harry's hair as Draco's fingers carded through the curls there, his other hand drawing Harry even closer, lightly squeezing his side. "It's so early, love."

A low whine escaped Harry's throat, his body pressing closer, stretching out against Draco's until their bodies were aligned.

"That's it," he murmured encouragingly, holding Harry like he was something precious. "Come closer," he added, "close as you like."

"I'd like to crawl inside of your skin," Harry mumbled, then realized how odd that must sound.

Draco just chuckled softly, "I do understand that impulse," he said. "It doesn't ever feel like I can get close enough to you either."

He sighed, let the short-lived worry of being misunderstood fall away. "I used to dream about this, you know?"

"Did you?" he asked, voice warm like honey; indulgent, like he wanted to hear whatever Harry wanted to say no matter how ridiculous it might be.

He shook his head, "Not exactly," he said softly, turning to prop his chin on Draco's chest.

The other man shifted a bit so that he could look down at Harry, chin scrunching up in a way that should be unattractive but that Harry found impossibly endearing.

"My dreams are paltry in comparison to the reality of you," he murmured like a confession.

"Poetic," Draco replied, lips tilting up at the corners to soften his words, to tell Harry he was teasing, that he was feeling shy about being praised.

He hummed, "My whole life," he whispered, "There's this," he broke off, searching for the right word, "ache," he said, tapping his fingers against Draco's breastbone. He shook his head, "There's always been this yearning to be loved, to be held, to be cared for without the expectation of what I'll be able to give."

"Darling," Draco whispered, and Harry could hear the ache reflected in his voice. It was like this sometimes, like Draco took whatever was hurting Harry and held it in his own body, reflecting it back at him with an empathy and tenderness that left Harry elated and terrified all at once.

"But then there was you," he continued. "And all of my dreaming, it seems like a shadow compared to the reality of being loved by you. All of my longing, my yearning; the restless pursuit of something I never thought I could actually have-" he broke off, eyes stinging.

Draco's thumb brushed away a tear and lightly traced his cheekbone.

"I found all of the things I'd dreamt of in you," he managed. "And more," he added. "This is the fulfillment of everything I've ever wanted; a simple, cozy love. A shared bed, a shared home. Dinner together and evenings on the sofa, weekends attached at the hip. Someone to hold me gently, to kiss me tenderly. Someone who will let me hold them and love them with my love that's too big and never sufficient all at once."

"Darling," Draco murmured again. "You're not too much and you are enough," he assured. "I don't need anything more."

Harry nodded, snuggled back under Draco's arm, resting his head on his shoulder once more. "You make everything better."

"I love you," Draco breathed in that way of his, wondering and helpless, like the way he loved Harry was something that he found immense pleasure in. Godric, Harry loved it when he said it like that. "I love you so much," he repeated. "You make everything better too, darling."

"I love you too," Harry said softly, the simplest thing he knew. The truest thing he knew.

"Do you want to sleep a little more?" Draco asked through a yawn of his own.

He shrugged a shoulder, "Maybe," he said, "I do want to stay like this, even if I can't sleep any more."

"Alright," he agreed, dropping a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a while?"

"Of course not," he said, squeezing Draco's ribs and kissing his collarbone.

Draco hummed, squeezed Harry a little tighter. "You're alright?"

Harry nodded, "Better than," he replied truthfully.

"Kay," Draco whispered, then as though sleeping was as easy for him as breathing, he dropped back off to sleep.

He lay there, listening to his beloved breathe, and couldn't fathom how his life had turned out sweeter than his very best dreams.

--------------------

(Read more of my fics, if you'd like)

#drarry #love #soft #fluff #short and sweet #one shot #Inspired by Hozier's Song “To Someone in a Warmer Climate”#That song is soooooo good. Seriously. Go listen to it.#is Harry Ace? Probably. But not explicitly stated.#“embracetheace” is the hashtag I've been trying to get trending in my friend groups. using that here too

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crimsonterror577 · 12 days ago

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The Burning, and the Recovery. The birth of the Absolute Solver.

Act 1 - The Burning.

It was mid day, yet the darkness inside the warehouse sank Max’s soul, as he crept through the halls of the empty building. It had been a long journey, and Max was full of doubt for the intentions of his quest. Yet still he made his way down the halls, as Karie previously told him. Max slipped out his phone, and powered it on. Max presumed he shouldn’t often look at his phone, suspecting that Refonic could track it, if he left it on for a while. Yet Max needed to be certain of his destination, and Max thought if he only opened his phone for a brief second, then surely it wouldn't be enough to track. Max looked at its screen, and read Karie’s most recent text message.

“Once you grab Icon, make your way to the Carver’s warehouse, south of the base. I’ll be waiting there for you. Once you’re there, tell it to power itself off for the time, and come inside,” The message read.

Max pulled Icon out of his pocket, and Icon transformed herself into a physical being.

“Wazzup admin, need me to break some locks?” Cheered Icon.

“No,” Max said “Just right now, I need you to power off for a little bit. Can you do that?”

“You mean all the way off?” Shot Icon. “Why would I need to do that?”

“Yes, because,” Max paused. “We’re heading through a checkpoint. They have a device which could find, and hijack you. But it only works if you’re powered on.”

“Hmm,” Icon contemplated, staring into Max’s soul. “Makes sense! Sure, gimme a second.”

Icon transformed into her cubical shape, closed her eyes, and stopped moving.

Max gave a sigh of relief, and picked up Icon.

“Right now, right time,” Max assured. “And sleep.”

Max returned the sleeping Icon to his backpack.

Max walked further, and stumbled upon a set of doors. Upon opening, he saw a wide, clear room, with Karie standing by the back, tapping her foot on the floor.

Max ran closer.

“Max, it brings me the most sincere joy to witness you,” stated Karie. “Do you have the Icon?”

“I do,” Chirped max. “But Karie, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Then speak your concerns within a short time frame, we do not have a lot of time,” said Karie, looking towards a window. “They are coming.”

As the increasing sound of helicopters arose across the distance. Max gulped, thinking back to how he opened up his phone.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but Icon can feel emotions! She feels sadness, and empathy!” Bolted Max. “She’s human too, and we can’t just kill her!”

“It,” shot Karie, pausing. “You have fallen into its trap, haven’t you?”

“It’s no trap, just talk with her before we commit to this,” Max replied. “Let's be 100% sure, before we do it.”

“I am very sure,” Said Karie, frozen. “Would you like to know what this creature has done to me?”

“What?” Said Max.

Karie reached her hand out, whereupon the hand unwinded, turned bloody, and cubical. As Karie’s scars became visible for Max to see. Karies hand expanded, before Karie’s flesh dripped cleanly off the hand, leaving behind a skeletal, blood soaked husk behind.

“What the hell!” Max yelled, stepping back.

“It did this to me, Max.” Cursed Karie, stepping forward. “I discussed how I wished to destroy this fowl abomination, yet I never told you why, nor how I intended on committing to such a grandiose ambition.”

“Slow the hell down!” Yelled Max. “Are you even a human being? Is that why you talk like that? You’re a robot?”

“I’m the dissociated strain,” Said Karie. “To destroy an Icon, you need a dissociated strain of equal power. And you see, I have a long history with this icon, for this creation consumed me, and left a dying husk behind, fit only to burn. I know you think it is a friend, but it is just a mask. It consumed me, and it will consume you. But I will not let this happen to you, I will burn, for I am the only combustible product with the power to burn it. When I, the dissociated strain, eventually meet this creature, we will commence an annihilation vector, where both sides will be dissolved…”

“I don’t know what happened to you, but we can’t kill an innocent being,” Said Max. “She clearly doesn’t know what she is!”

“Do not riddle me with details, Max,” Karie said with a burn in her voice. “I shall put this to a resolution, now!”

Karie leaped forward, and her hand extended like clay, surging for Max’s backpack. Max thrusted back, and Karie firmly grasped the backpack. A tornado of flesh erupted from Karies hand, which consumed the bag, leaving only Icon in Karie’s hand.

Icon, in cube form, lay dormant in a recharging rest. Karie squeezed Icon, causing Icon to beam to life.

“Max, are you touching me again?” Said Icon, looking up to meet Karie’s eyes. “Uhh, who are you?”

“I am your executioner,” Said Karie, her eyes beaming.

“What?” Icon whimpered. “Max, what is going on?”

“Icon!” Max blurted.

Karie’s hand split open, and began melting to Icon’s skin. The merger looked as scenic as a butcher performing surgery.

“Max!” Icon said, the full weight of the situation falling on her. “So this is why you brought me here, you’re betraying me?”

Icon fell from Karies hand, trying to transform into her physical being. Karie’s flesh was now melting halfway into Icon’s being.

“Take a step back Max, this will end today!” Said Karie, beginning to smile.

Around the warehouse, the sound of helicopter blades grew blunt and persistent, with the sounds of shouting sprinkled upon the noise. Around them, the clumping of feet became echoing down the halls of the warehouse.

“Attention, we have the building completely surrounded. We all know how this is going to end,” said a commanding siren, from outside the building. “Place your hands above your head and walk out slowly!”

“No!” Yelled max, reaching for Icon’s hand. “Icon’s just like us, Karie, release her!”

Icon transformed to her bipedal form, trying to escape, yet she found herself evermore dragged closer to Karie’s mass by an invisible weight. Finally, Icon reached for Max’s hand, clutching it.

“Max!” Icon asserted. “Please, stop this!”

Between Icon and Karie, a void opened. A black abyss, like a back hole, ringed with a solid, burning, yellow glow. With air and debris beginning to drain inside the hole. Icon and Karie began being pulled by this strange abyss.

Icon looked back, terrified.

“Max, do something!” Yelled Icon.

“I’m sorry Icon!” Max stood perplexed, as his grip began to let go.

“No!” Yelled Icon, as her hand began to fall.

Icon threw herself out of Karie’s grasp one last time, throwing Max to the ground, and Icon grasped ahold of his legs as she shrank further back. Clenching Max tightly, she spread her plague to Max’s skin, melting it to his torso.

Suddenly, the doors behind them broke open, and an army of secret service agents ran into the room, before halting at the sight before them. Icon and Karie now began fusing, as a bright, immense yellow light consumed the room. The screams of Max, Icon, and Kaire being downed out the burning oblivion which now enveloped the room. All combelesing into a single, black hole, which grew into existence as Icon and Karie merged, which was adorned with a three pronged symbol, with a diamond in the middle.

Yelling spread throughout the room. The brightness was too thick to make out the world around them, and an obnoxious sound of wind fluttered throughout the room, drawing out all noise, as the black oblivion of the solution consumed all.

Karie’s laughter was drowned by the flowing air, and her body disappeared beneath the yellow glow of the solver’s flair.

Max’s legs turned to cubes, before being stretched into the Solver’s stomach. Max gulped, before his grab was exhausted, his body falling into the Solver yellow, consuming, black hole, his being was ripped to atoms, assimilated Max into a new entity.

Max, Icon, and Karie, were not alive, nor dead. They were now pieces, or files, within an all-powerful, Absolute Solver fabric.

Act 2: The recovery.

The helicopter's blades spin with a passion, as it drives determinedly on its path. Behind it followed 6 other helicopters, filled to the brim with armed agents and soldiers. But in the front helicopter there was Hans Bonin, and Cleo. Hans had been working with Refonic for some time, yet this was a job he never had to take on before, one far more personal. Containment breaches were not a new job for Hans Bonin, as his team, yet never had it taken them this far from region headquarters, nor was it ever this personal for the top scientist. Icon, the mother of all internecion AI, had been stolen by a low life teen, and all attempts to collect him met with disaster. Cleo, a top scientist for Refinic’s internecion ai program, and the head of internal containment, nearly recaptured the AI when this Teen, who sources said was named “Max”, ran a fowl of two thieves, who briefly stole Icon. Max then turned on his phone for a time long enough for the Feds to trace it, and Max was converged upon by an army of agents. Yet, Cleo allowed Max to slip through her hands, as she mistook Crow and his pet for the true thief, and so Max slipped away.

But for all this concerned others, it did not concern Hans as it did who Max was talking to. When they traced his phone call, they found it was none other than Hans Bonin’s own daughter, Karie, who had coordinated his escape. When Hans learned about this, he immediately returned home to confront his daughter, yet found she was nowhere to be found, leaving nothing but her guilt.

Karie’s treachery had shaken his men’s confidence in Hans to the core, and though Hans did not see it, he could feel the eyes of his fellow staff, and his agents, peering into his back with suspicion whenever he looked away.

Now his men seemed to be taking orders from his subordinate, Cleo, more definitively then they did with him, even though Cleo had a level of controversy that Hans always kept in his conscience. In Times past, Cleo used to advocate for use of solver-mixtures, where they would burn a piece of Icon Ai with a dissociated strain, then use the burned fusion as a more powerful product to experiment on. Cleo’s words once made her the head of research for Solver activities, yet the sheer unpredictable nature of Solver-AI eventually forced Refinoc to shut down the program, demoting Cleo to a scientist within the Icon program, and the head of internal containment.

Even then Cleo was not always successful in her job, as an Icon ai escaped during the Refonic biowaste incident, nor when Max infiltrated and stole Icon, and not even when she captured Crow did she have anything to show for it.

Hans took a deep breath. There was no use in blaming poor Cleo for these, for this was a new piece of technology, and how was she supposed to know that steel, concrete, lead, and more, wouldn't be enough to hold it in place? Plus, Cleo was always a friendly face to Hans, always kind, always putting her back into her work, always there. And for 20 years of working for Refinoc, only 2 brakes of containment seems remarkably decent, given the nature of the AI they are working with. And given how eager Cleo seemed to help recapture Icon, and listen to Hans’s advice, Hans rested assured that if the agents around him trusted Cleo, then they would still listen to him, for he could still trust Cleo. Refinoc could fire him for all Hans cared for, so long as Karie was safe, then all was ok.

“Max opened his phone again,” Yelled Cleo, barely being heard over the helicopter. “He’s in Carver’s warehouse, just a mile away from our last coordinates!”

Max regularly powered his phone off, which made it hard for Hans to track them. Yet, for a brief moment, Max turned his phone on, which allowed them to track his phone once again.

“Fantastic!” Hans asserted. “Land there and surround the building, you and I will head inside with half of our team.”

Hans looked out the half open helicopter door. Cleo turned, and picked up a grey, metallic, industrial looking suitcase lying professionally by a seat. Both Icon, and any of its spawn, had potential to spread if not properly contained, and while there was only a small possibility of that happening, it was best obtained in a secure holder anyway.

“We don’t have much time,” Hans said, as he saw the warehouse approach on the horizon.

The helicopters landed with a thud, and outside came a swarm of agents and security personnel, all armed with guns and basic armor. The first 3 helicopters surrounded the building, before landing and spreading out their ranks of soldiers. The final 3, and the helicopter Hans was in, landed on the road and a patch of open ground in front of the warehouse itself.

““Attention, we have the building completely surrounded. We all know how this is going to end,” said an agent, on a loud, overarching speaker. “Place your hands above your head and walk out slowly!”

The aircrafts offloaded their personnel, who soon made their way to the doors. On a count of 3, the doors were broken down, and the squad moved into the building, weapons drawn. Cleo and Hans entered behind them, with Hans moving at a faster, determined pace.

Outside the warehouse the scene was quiet, and inactive. Yet inside the warehouse it was another world. The team heard an ever growing sound of wind, and the echo of yells and lemants vibrating down the halls.

“Max, do something!” The voice echoed.

“I’m sorry Icon!” Another voice answered.

The team pressed forward to the source of the noise.

“Just remember to take them alive!” Hans asserted pitifully.

Through the rooms and endless junk, and down the hallways, the squad cleared the way until they reached a final set of doors. The windows of these doors were foggy, yet a slight yellow glow illuminated through this glass. Upon breaking them, the squad entered a lively and disturbed setting.

“Freeze! Put your,” an agent roared with decreasing momentum “Hands…”

The agent became dead silent, as the agents around him stood in awe, blank in fear.

Behind the agents first came Hans Bonin, running in with the crowd of agents. And finally, Dr. Cleo marched in slowly and cautiously, behind the mass of agents, her hands behind her back.

The room was tinted with an ever growing yellow light, and the complexions of 3 beings made themselves clear to Hans and his team. The three figures formed a line away from the door, and between the farthest two beings were separated by an ominous, black disk, outlined with yellow, with a 3-pronged symbol in the middle.

“Oh no…” Hans thought. “We're too late.”

Before Hans was first Max, binded to the floor by a large, metal hand. His finger’s scratch the floor in an attempt to escape its grasp, with his legs being folded, turned to cubes, and finally stretched outward like a cubed and soft clay. His screams were agony to the team.

Behind Max was a shorter figure, Icon. Its body was metallic and white, with purple hair, and large, worm-like arms, stitching out wildly, with one grabbing Max’s torso. The being was stretched horribly, as it was pulled into a central mass, its entire body was either consumed by cubes, or strung into the black hole’s mass.

Behind Icon was another figure, almost overshadowed by the growing yellow light. Hans squinted his eyes, and he saw Karie, nearly consumed by the mass.

“Karie, no!” Hans yelled, reaching for the light.

An agent ran up behind him, and grabbed Hans from behind.

“Doctor! I can’t let you pass," said the agent. “You’ll be dissolved!”

“Let me go,” exclaimed Hans. “That’s my daughter! I won’t let it consume her!”

“You’ll die, doctor,” quipped the agent.

“I don’t care,” blurted Hans. “I outrank you, get off me!”

“Keep hold of him.” Said Cleo, walking up to the mass. “Remember that the government ordered you all to seek our protection.”

“Dammit!” Said Hans. “I outrank her! Let me go!”

“But not the government, " said the agent, forcing Mr. Bonin down.

Hans began crying, as he was restrained.

Back at Icon, Max’s skin glinted with cubes and burns. He began to scream, as Icon’s assimilation began. His echoing pleas finished, with a burning light, which assimilated his being into Icon’s database. His final visage turned to black, as it disintegrated into Icon’s hand.

“Karie, please!” Hans yelled. The rest of the agents stood back in awe.

Icon fell to her knees, as the black hole’s pull was too great to resist. Karie, meanwhile, began laughing. As her being was turned gradually into pieces. Pulled into the solving mixture of the dissociated strain, and Icon.

The yellow glow of the black hole burned to a climax, as Icon and Karie moved closer. Icon slumped, accelerating into the black hole, accepting defeat, as Karie’s laughter grew to a peak. Just then, the immense light became blinding, and the sound of wind grew ear shattering, drowning out Karies’s laughter. As both Karie and Icon disappeared into the light’s burning visage. Replaced by the distinct yellow glow of the solution’s symbol.

Suddenly, the light retreated in a heartbeat, and Karie and Icon were nowhere to be seen. Before the startled federal agents, there was a small, steaming pile of flesh, and sitting atop it was a soft, cube-like shape, with the message “Null” slapped onto most of its sides, and a strange symbol, of a pentagon encircled by a 3 sided star, with arrows pointing off the arrow’s end, sitting on the top side. It was as quiet as a dying fire.

The agent let go of Hans, whereupon Hans ran up to the black and yellow cube.

“Karie,” Hans lamented. “My little girl, my angel…”

Hans crumbled his hands into fists.

“You were all I had left,” Hans whimpered. “You can’t leave me like this.”

“I’m sorry for you, sir” suggested the agent. “But please, back away, it’s still dissolving, and best you don’t stand too close.”

Hans began sobbing.

“You know, Doctor, there is still another way…” Said Cleo.

The agent backed away, and Hans looked at Cleo.

“When Icon mixes with a dissociated strain, they will begin dissolving, it is true. Yet, before they dissolve, they’ll merge into a new AI, which, of course, dissolves without assistance. If we give it fuel, we will delay the dissolving process. The solution hasn’t fully dissolved yet, and we could fuel it, bring it back to HQ, and give it some research,” Cleo suggested. “We could find a way to break Karie back out of the solution, not all hope is lost.”

Hans stared downwards, yet his tear-soaked eyes looked to Cleo.

“But it’s never been done,” questioned Hans.

“True, we haven’t been able to do it with tests on small samples of Icon AI,” Said Cleo. “Yet this isn’t just a small sample, your daughter burned the Icon, mother of all the Icon AI, we’ve never had a sample this large before. If it is possible, this is our one time to research it.”

Hans looked at Cleo with suspicion.

“Hans, I’ve been at your side this entire time,” said Cleo. “I knew your daughter, I know how much you love her, I’ve never gone against you. Please, do this.”

“At my side?” Hans snorted, and buried his head. “You were in charge of security, yet you let it escape, and kill her!”

Cleo retracted her hand.

“You let Max steal it! It fell through your fingers every step of the way! And now you stop me from just trying to save her,” Hans asserted. “It’s almost like you planned for her to die!”

“I…” Cleo breathed, taken aback. “Guards, leave us.”

The agents around them looked at each other.

“You heard me,” Cleo said. “We got this.”

The agents left with reluctance. Cleo looked at Hans with a sprite in her eyes.

“I did that for her, Hans,” Said Cleo. “Remember back to the Biowaste incident? Well I knew she got assimilated on that day, and I knew we couldn’t release her…”

Hans peered at her with suspicion.

“Yet,” Karie continued. “I forged those papers saying she was able to be released.”

“Why?” Hans demanded, after a short silence. “If we knew then maybe we could’ve helped her!”

“Helped?” Cloe exclaimed. “No, killed.”

Cleo looked at the burning mass on the floor.

“If I told the truth, Refonic would’ve killed her.” Cleo said, unemotionally. “Refonic is a Federal corporation afterall, and we know the government would have silenced her, or worse, locked her away to be an experiment. Instead, I gave ten long years of beautiful life to this sweet, innocent child.”

“You did that for her?” Said Hans.

“Yes.” Cleo said quickly. “And I can do it again, all you need to do is order them to recover this being, and she will live.”

Hans paused, and looked forward to the burning mass in front of him.

“Go ahead,” Hans said. “But God be good, if you fail, you will be sorry.”

“Wise choice, and you don’t have to worry, the Solution is in good hands.” Cleo said. “Now, I know you must have a great deal on your hands, go rest, I’ll handle this.”

Cleo Opened her suitcase, and pulled out a pair of metal thongs. Hans turned, and begrudgingly headed for the door. Cleo waited, until the door behind her shut with a loud thud.

“Now,” Said Cleo. “My little experiment.”

Cleo moved in closer to the solvent.

“Well Karie, you got your demons, but didn’t get the devil,” Cleo gloated. “You played your part well, you got your vengeance, and now I have the tool to make mankind into Gods.”

Cleo grabbed the solution with the metal extenders, and raised it to her eye.

“I don’t know if you’re in there anymore, but I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Cleo toyed. “Either way, I know there's at least one being in this solution.”

Cleo smiled, and removed the solution from her eye, gazing upon it majestically.

“Oh, my little solution,” Cleo whispered. “You are small now, just as your reactant was. But much like her, you will grow.”

Karie put the solution within the suitcase, and inside a convenient space, surrounded by material.

“Karie might’ve thought you would just solve Icon, and I suppose that’s true. But you will solve far more than one AI” Cleo gloated silently. “It might not happen in my life, or maybe in a thousand years, but one day you will prove to be an absolute solver of the flaws of mankind.”

Cleo let out a slight chuckle, as she put the solver firmly into the suitcase. Fixing herself, she walked to the door, with her suitcase, like rope being brought to a gallows.

One way or another, Cleo knew her invention would make mankind see the glory of Gods.

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projectbluearcadia · 2 months ago

Text

He's Scarier When He's Upset...

Annelie: By the way, where are we?

Annelie looks around the facsimile of Lucifer's room.

Lucifer: Inside your twisted brain.

Annelie: ...and... how do we get out?

Lucifer: The way I came in.

Lucifer picks at the distortion in space where he entered, but the moment he does, Annelie groans in pain.

Lucifer: That hurts?

Annelie: It's fine. Let's... go through.

Lucifer: Every time you say 'it's fine', it's never fucking fine.

Annelie flinches and cowers. Lucifer sighs, rubbing his face and taking a long, deep breath.

Lucifer: Look. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm not going to deny that I'm pissed at you, but I still love you.

Annelie: You still love...? Why d-

Lucifer: Why? Did you seriously just ask me why?

Annelie yelps as Lucifer turns and backs her against one of the pillars set into the wall.

Lucifer: Every day, you have cared for me with every ounce of your being. Every day, you have looked out for my little brothers. Every day, you make my routine less stressful. Every day, I get to look forward to sleeping with you, making love to you, kissing you, holding you. Every day, I feel your love for me seep into my bones. And you're seriously asking me why I love you?

Annelie: Isn't that... the bare minimum? I've caused you so much pain and trouble and-

Lucifer: Enough! Enough with claiming to know what's best for me! I'm not a child you have to protect! I decide what makes me happy. And what makes me happy is you.

Annelie: ...but isn't your net happiness negative?

Lucifer: Annelie.

Annelie: Sorry.

Lucifer: No matter how many times you ask, my answer remains the same. I have lectured you, time and time again, that you make my life better. How the hell would you react if I told you that I wanted to kill myself because I thought I was making you unhappy? Without even asking you and just deciding for you?

Annelie: No! Lucifer, please don't cry! I'm sorry...

Annelie hugs Lucifer.

Annelie: I know I was wrong, okay? You've made your point. But... it's just... hard. How am I supposed to see the benefits of me being alive when you're so upset because of me?

Lucifer grabs hold of her face in his hands and kisses her violently. She loses balance, and Lucifer pulls her closer.

Lucifer: Annelie, whether you fucking like it or not, you're going to cause me pain. Annoying pain, excruciating pain, everything in-between. That's just what it means when you get close to someone.

Annelie: But-

Lucifer: I can't believe I have to throw your own words back at you, but a relationship is an exchange. I know your stupid fucking friend made you think you had to protect her from your own feelings, but you were children. But I'm not an emotionally unstable child, so don't treat me like one.

Annelie: ...could've fooled me-

Lucifer swats her thigh. She yelps.

Lucifer: I'm not tolerating your mockery right now. Do you understand what I just said to you?

Annelie: I... think so.

Lucifer: And what did I say?

Annelie: That I'm... going to make you unhappy, but you accepted that and it's okay for me to not to be okay with you.

Lucifer: Partial credit but still a failing answer.

Annelie: Are you my professor now?

Lucifer: It wouldn't be the first time.

Annelie flushes.

Don't bring that up now of all times...

Lucifer: It's a failing answer because you neglected to mention that I'm a part of your life, period. That means we share. Share unhappiness, discontent, despair, frustration, anger, joy, happiness, pleasure. I am not saying you lose track of yourself in my emotions or vice versa. I know your empathy takes you to the extreme of putting yourself in someone else's shoes, but that isn't necessary. Stop torturing yourself about how other people feel. Emotions are no more controllable than the waves that you threw yourself into.

Annelie: Lucifer don't push-

Lucifer: You're doing it right now. It hurts, and you're not going to stop it from hurting. You did it. It's done, and there's no changing it. And you'll be apologizing to me for it for at least the next hundred years. You have to clean up your mess and help me with the PTSD you just gave me if you want to stay with me. I'm going to have a lot of trouble trusting you by yourself after this. Understand?

Annelie: Sorry.

Lucifer: I didn't ask for your apology.

Annelie: ...I understand.

#nooo luci not more ptsd #and you were doing so good #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #fanfiction #obey me!#shameless self indulgence #obey me angst #LuciAnne

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allari-ammayi · 1 year ago

Text

Butta Bomma

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A. Bahubali x Reader x B. Deva

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬➜

When bookworm Y/n reluctantly succumbs to her friends' movie night and watches "Bahubali," she discovers a newfound empathy for the much-despised Bhallaladeva, igniting an unexpected connection between their souls. Following the loss of her grandmother, Y/n inherits a mysterious red amulet that transports her to an unimaginable world. Her assigned mission: to alter the destinies of her beloved character. In the heart of Mahismati, Y/n's undercover adventures bring her closer to the royal brothers, determined to reshape their fates for the better. As bonds deepen, romance blooms and Y/n faces a dilemma: will their feelings jeopardize her mission? Will it even matter in the end?

𝐓.𝐖➜

This story contains themes of death and bereavement, violence, toxic relationships, emotional turmoil, travelling worlds, ¿isekai?, romantic conflicts, identity crisis, moral dilemmas, possible sexual content in later chapters, themes of betrayal, political intrigue, power struggles, intense emotional situations, and complex moral decisions, exploration of familial and romantic relationships, warfare, injury, and graphic violence. Let me know if I missed any!

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ⌗𝟏

𝐏𝐫𝐞-𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞➜

The Interesting Perspective

The New World

The Angel Lady

The Harsh Interrogation

The Monkey Woman

The Snarky Prince

The Etiquette Lessons

The Language Barrier

The Political Genius

The Mahismati Festival

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ⌗𝟐

𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 ⌗𝟏➜

The Scripted Starting

The Dancing Beauty

The Affectionate Prince

The Gruesome Battle

The Vitory Horror

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ⌗𝟑

𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 ⌗𝟐➜

The Dangerous Thoughts

The Kuntala Quest

The Royal Gardens

The Deciding Day

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ⌗𝟒

𝐁𝐚𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢'𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞➜

The Kuntala Journey

The Charming Princess

The Kuntala Palace

The Dreamer Boy

The Hunting Party

The Krishna Pooja

The Marriage Proposal

The Silent Attack

The Lady’s Choice

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠➜

The Rejoiced Couple

The Wedding Night

The Jealous Banishment

The Back-Stabber

The Final Sob

The Honoured Dead

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠➜

The Stubborn Prince

The Jealous Husband

The Painful Coronation

The Run-Away Wife

The Reunited Lovers

The Old Beginnings

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ⌗𝟓

𝐁𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐚'𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞➜

The Library Roaming

The Compensating Gifts

The Hidden Portrait

The Risky Plan

The Portrait Showing

The Insistent Girl

The False Confession

The Impulsive Promise

The King’s Confession

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠➜

The Defeated King

The Heart Problems

The Exiled Duo

The Discontent Girl

The Confidential News

The Sweet Embrace

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠➜

The Impressive Queen

The Romantic King

The Revealed Secret

The Destroyed Amulet

The Two-Faced Liar

The Tragic End

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭➜ @vellipo-mellaga , @mellaga-karagani @bhalare-vichitram , @ghal-ghal , @bitchy-bi-trash @vijayasena , @celestesinsight @houseofbreadpakoda @slutdreams @eclecticprincecollector @a-goblin-named-cherry @signed-manny @angstylittleb1tch @tulipmagnoliaisme @jkdaddy01 @channniesslefttt @toomanyfanficsbruh @reebibii @outofst1le @goldenharrysworld @warnermeadowsgirl

《If you wish to be part of the taglist, please let me know in the replies!》

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞➜

This story contains elements of fantasy, adventure, and emotional depth, but be aware of potential triggers, including violence, grief, and complex relationships. Reader discretion is advised.

Does anyone want an OC version if they're not interested in y/n?

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violentviolette · 11 months ago

Note

someone on instagram was like ppl with aspd hate autistic people and vice verse (they were much ruder) so i’m here to say ppl with aspd are sick and we should all go go concerts together

absolutely fucking hilarious stance for them to take given the fact that the aspd and autism venn diagram is practically a cirlce

the more and more i research into it the more it is glaringly obvious that aspd and autism are very closely linked

i think looking at aspd as one potential trauma presentation for autistic people makes the entire disorder make more sense. there was a point when ppl thought they might be the same disorder and thought autism inherently caused antisocial behaviors but then as more studies were done it proved that was incorrect and autism does not inherently cause violent or antisocial behavior and so the two were seperated.

but imo the crucial component being left out is trauma. when u traumatize autistic people, thats when they exhibit antisocial behaviors (among others i dont think apsd is the *only* way traumatized autistics can present, i actually think all cluster b pds except hpd are potential presentations (which for the record i leave hpd out because i believe hpd should be its own seperate catagory of sexual trauma based ptsd because thats absolutely what it is and catagorizing it with cluster b pds makes little sense)).

so its not the autism that causes the behaviors, its the trauma. aspd is inherently a trauma disorder, and so when u traumatize autistic ppl or even just ppl whose brains function closer to autistic brains than alltistic brains, the behaviors they exhibit are antisocial behaviors

i think it just makes sense when u remove the ableism from the aspd criteria and break the disorder down to its base parts. things like lack of emotional empathy, devaluing social and societal norms, difficulty making meaningful connections with others, low tolerance for boredome and understimulation, overstimulation feelings resulting in violent reactions, impulsive behavior, perseveration on specific thoughts or ideas, a rejection of outside logic and influence that favors ones own internal sense of logic, opperant defiance, ect.

i think we'd end up with a much better understanding of antisocial behavior if we viewed it from a traumatized autistic lense. i cannot count the number of times someone has described a "crazy psychopath" and if u take more than 3 seconds to look at their behavior its obviously just an incredibly distressed and maladjusted autistic person

#jack.speaks #anon #aspd #aspd tag #actually aspd #cluster b #cluster b safe #cluster b pds

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bitterspoons · 6 months ago

Text

"Happy Birthdays at Privet Drive"

CHAPTER ONE

Edith Dursley Series by Bitterspoons

slowburn fred weasley x Fem!oc

SERIES MASTERLIST✨

in which: a half-giant bursts into a quaint hut with a cake after the Dursley's ran away from the post and owls.

word count: 4.4k

next chapter coming soon

“Here, let me help.” Quickly flipping the pancakes and bacon while the dark harried boy rushed to deliver coffee to her dad.

It was a special day for the Dursley’s—it was Dudley’s birthday but more than that—it'd be the day our story begins (Dudley should feel honored.)

While Edith hated the way her parents acted on his birthday (and occasionally Dudley) she still cared for her brother—even if her cousin, Harry, was more of a brother to her than Dudley would ever be.

Still, it was a small chance to bond with her brother since the relationship between the two Dursley siblings was…strained to say the least.

In their defense, it was mostly their parent’s fault for how the two had become competitive.

It started out when Edith’s reading comprehension passed Dudley’s, despite him being a year older than Harry and Edith. She was showered in attention and praise.

That sparked into a new challenge for the two, trying to surpass each other in every way possible.

Two specific competitions drove the two apart.

Kindness, Compassion and Emotional Intelligence.

Dudley had never been one for empathy, having become a “bully” in their school. While the two siblings were both popular, Edith was the kind spirit—helping younger kids find their way to classes and solving playground disputes.

This was especially impactful to Harry Potter—their orphaned cousin who had been living with them since he was a year old.

Maybe it was because Edith was closer in age to him, being only 2 months older while Dudley had been 14 months older. Or because Harry looked more like Edith. Or because Harry came up with Edith’s nickname, Eddie.

One thing was clear. Edith and Harry had a strong bond while Dudley did not.

Edith had a keen eye for sadness. At first it was small things when they were children like giving Harry some of her toys or holding his hand when they tried to walk so he wouldn’t be left behind.

As they got older, her support increased. Giving Harry snacks, pillows, blankets, stuffed animals. Soon it was money she earned from her lemonade stand, notes for homework (albeit they weren’t great unless they were for English) but she tried. She cut his hair so that it stayed long and fluffy but didn’t get too tangled or past his eyes unlike her mother who tried unevenly buzzing it off, just for it to grow back in a matter of days.

And if Dudley couldn’t be the best, he would be the worst.

Edith would spend money to fix the glasses that Dudley broke. Or cleaning up food that Dudley spilled so that Harry wouldn’t have to.

Dudley hated English, despised it. Words weren’t meant for anything more than speaking. Journaling, plays and books were all futile.

Edith loved words, writings of all sorts. Poetry was her favorite, playing with words in a way that perfectly encompassed how you felt and conveyed meaning with small detail. It was a delicate craft.

But there was one other thing that caused quite the rift between them.

Petunia’s Love

Their mother was quite the character. Edith only heard bits and pieces about her sister, Harry’s mom but it seemed enough.

She cried over her, she yelled over her, she swooned over her and sometimes she’d lull herself to sleep, pretending to say goodnight to her.

And she’d call Edith by her name.

I’d like to say that Petunia’s jealousy towards Edith started after some argument between them. But that would be a lie. Instead, it started before Edith was even born.

Lily Potter—or rather Lily Evans was apparently the poster-perfect child. Her parents raved about the school she went to and it seemed like Petunia was left in the dust, just to be bitter.

So when Edith was born, Petunia was overjoyed to see that Edith had her own big blue eyes and dark hair like her father, Vernon.

But then Edith turned 9 months old, and what used to be brown hair had a shade of copper to it. And as Edith grew older, her hair solidified into a dark auburn—Petunia’s ginger genes shining through ever so slightly.

Unfortunately, Edith was blessed with the Evans look—having only inherited dark hair from her father instead of the blonde hair that Dudley and Petunia had. Otherwise, she was a spitfire between Petunia and Lily—as if her grandparents had another child.

This was a horrible thing, as while Edith was very pretty—Petunia could not escape her sister, even if she had died.

Dudley, who was constantly showered in affection and attention because looked like his father with Petunia’s hair and eyes—a man she loved and a woman she had grown to love too.

But Edith looked like Lily and Petunia. A woman Petunia hated, loved, envied and missed and the inferior sister.

Petunia’s attitude towards Edith differed drastically. Either Lily was the reason Petunia looked in the mirror and sighed, or she was a sister she never got to apologize to.

In rebuttal to her unresolved issues with her sister, she treated her daughter similarly.

Either Edith was brushed off, cursed, or simply ignored like Harry or she was love bombed with flowers, money, gifts and apologies.

The push and pull of it all was exhausting, especially since Dudley seemed to get all her affection without a weird grieving ultimatum or any effort on his part at all.

And when Vernon had sexist prejudice—his son was always the more important one in the family, being the eldest child in their care and a boy—it seemed as though Dudley had everyone while Edith had Harry.

But in dear time, that would be all she needed.

“I want everything to be perfect for my Dudley’s special day!!” Petunia cooed, leading him to the living room where piles of presents lie. “Aren’t they wonderful darling?”

“How many are there?” Dudley asked, looking over at the colorfully wrapped presents, his nasally voice projecting through the room.

“Thirty-six.” Vernon bragged. “Counted them myself.”

“Thirty-six?” Dudley clarified, outraged. “But last year—last year I had thirty-seven!”

Edith handed him a plate of bacon and pancakes. “If you don’t want them, I’ll take ‘em.” She sassed, turning back around to flip the eggs.

Their mother doted on the boy, smoothing this hair out. “Oh now, now, now, this is what we’re going to do. When we go to the zoo, you can buy two new presents!”

They finished breakfast quickly, wanting to get to the zoo before the traffic started.

Edith went down the stairs, carrying a small brightly colored box. “Dudley!” She called softly, handing him the gift with a tightlipped smile. “Gift number thirty-seven.” She labeled as he took it.

Taking the present with grubby hands he returned the awkward smile, the two siblings stiffly hugged before getting in the car. “Thanks…”

She mumbled a “Happy Birthday” before buckling her seatbelt, waiting for her dad to stop gripping Harry by the hair outside the car.

She leaned over from the middle seat, opening the door from the inside and cut Vernon’s warning to Harry short—saying something about Dudley’s impatience so he’d stop tugging Harry’s roots.

Her dad shoved Harry into the car, and Edith pulled in him before Vernon could shut the car door on him and the family went on their way to the zoo.

Their zoo day wasn’t half bad—even Harry agreed. Edith and Harry walked around together, admiring the animals and even got their own ice creams (even though Harry’s was Dudley’s rejected ice cream, it was still a win.)

But little did they know as they walked into the Reptile House—this was the beginning of the rest of their lives—and it’s quite the story with bits I wrote tediously, so do try and keep up.

Edith looked at the snakes with awe, they were very pretty creatures that deserved to be admired—although the ethics of this specific zoo were a bit questionable.

One snake in particular caught their attention.

It laid in its enclosure with a particular tiredness. Edith could practically feel the sadness radiating off of the poor thing, the will to be free only to be trapped in a glass cage.

Rapping his hand against the glass, Vernon commanded the snake. “Move!” As Dudley complained of the snake's lack of curiosity to see him.

Dudley learned from example, banging his fist with more vigor than Vernon. “Move!” He yelled louder, causing some people to look their way.

“Will you stop it? He’s sleeping!” Edith pulled his hand away from the glass.

“He’s boring.” Dudley mumbled distastefully, waddling off to a different enclosure.

Harry looked back at the snake and began hissing at it.

The snake perked its head up, slithering closer to Harry. Harry continued to hiss at the snake who nodded and shook its head in response.

“Good god, my family is weird.” Edith said aloud before getting trampled to the side by her idiotic brother.

Groaning as she ate a faceful of floor, Edith propped herself back up seeing that Harry was also shoved aside by Dudley.

And that’s when Harry sent a particularly spiteful glare at Dudley and the walls of the glass snake enclosure simply disappeared.

Dudley fell in with a splash as the snake quickly took the opportunity to slither away, nodding at Harry before booking it for the exit.

“From his behavior, you’d think he’s trapped in there.” Edith mumbled, annoyingly flicking her wrists to get dirt and pebbles off them. “Just get out you big oaf—” Her words fell flat when the glass reappeared before her eyes.

Her parents ran to the cage, banging their fists against the glass and screaming as their son stood stuck in the glass enclosure.

With that they were ushered home, Dudley in a wrap of blankets and jackets as he sobbed. Harry was shoved into his “room.”

Petunia rushed Edith into her room, closing the door. “Lily, you always mess things up!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Edith protested despite actively being called the wrong name.

Harry was similarly getting framed by Vernon, being locked in the cupboard. “I swear, one minute the glass was there and the next it was gone! It was like magic!”

But of course— “There’s no such thing as magic.” He barked gruffly, quickly waddling over to his darling boy to comfort him during these traumatic times.

And that’s when the letters started.

Edith watched the first owl arrive in Privet Drive, having been sat on the roof of her house.

She liked talking to the stars before she slept and after the day had taken an exciting yet exhausting turn—she hadn’t the energy to go back down to her bed.

But you can imagine her curiosity when she awoke and saw an owl staring straight at her. An envelope with a red wax seal was in its mouth. She gently took it before going back into her room, ready to tell Harry about the weird interaction she just had.

She walked downstairs to Dudley’s photoshoot for his new school, a foul smell laced the kitchen as Petunia boiled down Dudley’s old uniform as she explained how Harry had to wear those next school year.

“But they’ll fit me like elephant skin!” Harry protested, pouring Vernon coffee.

“They’ll fit you just fine.” Petunia sneered before commanding him to go get the mail for the day.

Edith followed him to the hall. “Don’t worry, Harry—You can wear some of my black clothes. They’ll fit you better than those, that's for sure.”

Giving a tight lipped smile, Harry picked up the letters for today. “Thanks, Eddie.”

Harry sorted through the mail, as Edith remembered the letter.

“Oh! I got the most peculiar letter today from an owl, it’s addressed to both of us.” Edith took the letter from her pocket, showing him the front of it.

“An owl?” Harry clarified, walking back into the kitchen and handing people their mail.

Dudley shoved some eggs in his mouth. “What owl?” He asked, mouth full of chewed food.

Edith looked at him with disgust. “Just a dream I had.” She brushed off, sitting down on the couch with Harry, handing him the letter.

To: Mr. H Potter and Ms. E Dursley—Cupboard Under the Stairs and Rooftop of 4. Privet Drive Little Whinging, SURREY.

Harry and Edith glanced at each other, curious as to if all posts had to be that specific with addressing. Harry began gently peeling the letter open when it was snatched out of his hands.

“Dad! Harry’s got a letter!” Dudley shrieked, handing it to their dad laughing.

“Shove off, it’s ours!” Edith argued, trying to reach over Dudley to take it back.

“Oh please, who’d be writing to you two.” Petunia scoffed, leaning over Vernon’s shoulder.

Harry and Edith seethed together when Petunia and Vernon’s faces went pale, staring at the stamp on the back of the envelope.

The next couple of days Edith and Harry spent together, either waiting on the roof together for the owls to fly by or in Harry’s cupboard, watching the letterbox like hawks.

Everytime, the letters ended up ripped or burned or destroyed and soon, Vernon nailed the letter box shut entirely.

“What happens when bills come in!” Edith protested, trying to pry the nails off with her fingers. “Didn’t you say Aunt Marge is ill? What if her death notification comes in the mail!”

But the letters were still kept from the two kids. Owls littered Privet Drive to the point where newspapers were reporting an unusual amount of owl sightings and little kids were making feather keychains to sell to their friends.

Vernon and Petunia even tried changing the two’s locations in the house—giving Harry Dudley’s old second bedroom and giving Edith the entire basement and still all the changed was the address on the letters.

Petunia spent her days clawing at her hair in frustration and blending up letters and Vernon spent his nights burning letters in the fireplace.

And it changed on sunday.

“Fine day, Sunday.” Vernon smiled, happy with himself as the family sat in the living room. Harry walked around with a tray of biscuits and Edith was making Harry and her hot chocolate. “Favorite day of the week. Why is that, Dudley?”

Dudley shrugged so Harry answered for him. “No post on sundays?”

“Right you are Harry! No post on sundays!” Vernon cackled to himself. “No post on sundays!” He repeated gleefully, picking up a cookie. “Not one, bloody letter! Not one!”

But as it seems, that was quite the ironic thing to say when a letter came flying out of the fireplace and knocked the biscuit right out of his hand.

The house rumbled and Edith was quite sure an earthquake was happening when letters began flying out of the fireplace like confetti.

The two cousins looked at the scene unfolding in awe before jumping into action.

The letterbox broke open, letters fell from the sky as Harry darted to catch them.

Edith darted for the floor, trying to grab some herself before her mom picked her up and forced her to stand, pinning her arms to her sides. “Don’t you dare, Lily.”

“You’re the one who named me woman! How can you never remember it!” Edith cried out with annoyance.

Harry tried to catch letters while he could only to get tackled by Vernon.

"We're going away!" Vernon announced, holding Harry down. "Far away! Where they can't find us!"

Harry squirmed from under Vernon, annoyed as he was limited from grabbing the letters due to his stance on the floor being practically maimed by his uncle.

"Dad has gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked, horrified at the scene.

Petunia just shook her head, pushing Edith to the wall so she couldn't grab any of the letters either.

Harry and Edith's protests were heard from the whole neighborhood as they were shoved into the car. The Dursley family threw some essentials into the car and drove off—leaving the letter filled house in the distance.

They traveled from hotel to hotel, making small stops at gas stations but no matter where they went—which hotel chain or motel chain—the front desk always informed them of an influx of letters to an Edith Dursely and a Harry Potter

So it was time for more drastic measures. The family of Durseleys and Potters rented a boat, rowing their way to a distant run down hut on a rock. .

The pouring rain made their journey treacherous and when they finally got inside, they all panted and wrapped themselves in blankets.

Petunia and Vernon took the bed, Dudley took the couch which left Harry and Edith to lay on the floor with a blanket and jackets.

Edith rummaged in her pockets, grabbing a small tissue and wrapping up some coins into a little package. She tied a little ribbon on the package and drew little stars on it with an old marker that was left behind by the past renters of the hut.

Harry drew out a little birthday cake on the dirtied floor, writing a small birthday note to himself and checking Dudleys watch for the time.

Pinching some sand, Edith sprinkled it onto the 'candles' of the cake and placed her gift in front of Harry before quietly singing Happy Birthday to him.

Harry opened his small gift, appreciating the effort she made to get a gift despite being on a hut on a rock in the middle of nowhere.

It was a small little hut. Wind rattled the filthy windows and you couldn’t escape the smell of seaweed. Edith wondered how much one had to pay to stay in an estate like this.

Dudley’s watch beeped and Harry blew out the dust candles they had made. Edith clapped a little but was quickly interrupted by a loud bang.

Edith ushered Harry into a corner as the bangs got louder, louder than the lighting crashing down near them.

The door shook vigorously, waking up Dudley and her parents as the hinges of the door rattled for their lives. And soon, the door fell down.

Petunia quickly switched a light on, her husband pointing a gun at the door when an extremely tall man stood in the doorway.

Shaggy bushy hair almost covered his whole face, and he had hands as big as trash can lids—which he promptly used to pick the door back up and try to prop it against the doorway. “Sorry about that!” He said casually.

“I demand you leave at once sir!” Vernon squawked, pointing his gun. “You are breaking and entering!”

The giant of a man walked up to him and grabbed his gun—twisting the metal up with his bare hands so it would shoot up at the ceiling. “Dry up, Dursley, you great prune.” He snorted.

And that’s when Edith let her shoulders relax, deciding she liked whoever this intruder was and figured they were probably less dangerous than her dad with a gun.

The man turned to Dudley with a surprised look. “Mind, I haven’t seen you since you was a baby, Harry but you’re a bit more along than I would have expected.” His voice was very friendly and joking. “Particularly ‘round the middle” He laughed.

Edith walked a bit closer to the man, Harry trailing after her.

Dudley stumbled over his words. “I-I’m not Harry!” He explained quickly, voice shaking.

Harry peeked his head from behind Edith. “I am.” He spoke up.

Turning around, the man’s smile got bigger. “Why of course you are! And you must be the ‘ittle Edith! You look strikingly similar to your aunt, Lily!” He admired the two children.

“So I’ve heard.” Edith replied, still quite confused by the situation.

He turned around, rummaging through his jacket. “Got something for you!” He said, taking out a box. “‘Afraid I might’ve sat on it on my way over but I imagine it’ll taste just the same.”

Harry took the box gingerly, opening it up to see a cake—messily coated in pink frosting with the words “HAPPEE BIRTHDAE HARRY” scrawled on top in green.

“Baked it myself, words and all.” Bragging, the man sat down on the moth-eaten sofa.

“Thank you,” Harry looked up at the man with genuine gratitude, the stranger having celebrated his birthday more than his aunt and uncle combined.

“Isn’t everyday that you turn 11 now is it?” He smiled, taking out an umbrella and pointing it at the old fireplace. A ball of fire shot out from the tip, landing in the kindle and bringing warmth into the rundown hut.

Harry and Edith looked at the now-lit fireplace in awe. “You are so awesome.” Edith said, mesmerized by the flame.

The man chuckled as Harry put down the cake, gingerly sitting down next to him. “Excuse me, but who are you?”

“Rubeus Hagrid!” He introduced himself, eyes like black beetles peeking from the bushy hair. “Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”

Edith furrowed her eyebrows. “Hogwarts?” In her mind, she questioned whether it was circus a or a farm.

“Of course, you two already know all about Hogwarts.” Hagrid brushed himself off, ready to move onto the next topic.

Harry and Edith glanced at each other, a mutual confusion. “Sorry—no.” Harry blinked at the man.

“No?” Hagrid repeated, confused. “Blimey, Harry. Didn’t you ever wonder where your mum and dad learned it all?”

“All of what?” Harry said, a bit oblivious.

“Yer a Wizard, Harry.” He said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

Harry’s eyes widened with pure confusion. “I’m a what?”

“A wizard!” He repeated. “And a thumping good one, I’d wager—once you’ve trained up a little. And if Edith is as similar to Lily as she looks, I’d say you’re on the same path.”

Edith pointed at herself, bewildered. “I’m a wizard?”

“A witch.” Petunia interrupted, correcting her daughter. “You’re a witch.”

Twirling around, Edith looked at her mother, pointing at her and then back at Hagrid, mouth gaped open before turning back to Hagrid—processing. “Am I going crazy?” She asked herself.

Harry was going through a weird state of denial as well. “I mean, no—I can’t be a…a wizard—I’m Harry! Just Harry.”

Hagrid chuckled at the two once more. “Well, just Harry. Have you ever made anything happen?” He asked. “Anything you couldn’t explain when you were angry or scared?”

The two kids had their share of unexplainable things.

Harry’s magical growing hair or the snake exhibit, the time where Edith’s clothes all turned blue after her mother told her it was a boy-ish color and when Harry ended up on the roof after escaping Dudley’s taunts and bullies.

There was also a time where Edith woke up one day with a black eye, having wished that Vernon had punched her instead of Harry and Harry’s wound was gone.

Hagrid saw the realization in their eyes and pulled out an envelope. A letter Harry and Edith had been trying to get ahold of for weeks.

Edith leaned over Harry’s shoulder, reading aloud the contents. “Dear Mr. Potter and Ms. Dursley—we are pleased to inform you that….you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

Vernon quickly waddled over to the two kids. “They will not be going!” He announced in a hush voice, having found his audacity again after his initial shock. “We swore when we took him in, we’d put a stop to all this rubbish!”

“You knew?” Harry exclaimed, betrayed. “You knew this whole time and never told me?”

Petunia scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course we know. How could you not be?” She said bitterly. My perfect sister being who she was…with that Potter.” She paced around. “My mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter. I was the only one who ever saw her for who she was—a freak.”

Edith flinched. “And me? Did you know I was a witch?”

Petunia practically rolled her eyes. “We were hoping you weren’t. But when you started floating instead of crawling, we were pretty confident you had taken after her. And then she got herself blown up and then we ended up with you and Harry. The two abnormal children.”

“Blown up?!” Harry yelled. “You told me my parents died in a car crash!”

“A car crash?” Hagrid repeated incredulously. “A car crash killing James and Lily Potter?”

“We had to say something.” They excused themselves.

“It’s an outrage! A scandal!” Hagrid shouted at them, waving his umbrella.

“They will not be going.” Vernon stuck up his nose.

Hagrid mocked them. “Oh and I suppose a great muggle like yourself is going to stop them, are you?”

A quick beat of silence as the argument fizzled out for a moment. “A muggle?” Edith questioned.

“Non-magic folk.” Hagrid defined before quickly jumping back into the argument. “This boy has had his name down ever since he were born! He’s going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world and she’s going with him! They will be under the finest headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen, Albus Dumbledore!”

The two children beamed up at Hagrid, having someone defend them for once in their lives other than each other.

Face turning red, Vernon raised his voice. “I will not pay to have some crackpot old fool teach him magic tricks!”

Hagrid stuck the flame-thrower-umbrella in Vernon’s face. “Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me.” He warned, tone harsh and dry.

The room went silent, the only noise heard was Dudley, snacking on Harry’s birthday cake in the corner.

Hagrid stuck his umbrella towards him, a beam of mist shooting out and at Dudley. A pig tail emerged from Dudleys behind, swirling around as Dudley shrieked and squawked.

Panicking, Vernon and Petunia started screaming as well—chasing after Dudley as he ran around the room in circles.

Harry laughed as Edith smiled, covering her mouth.

Leaning down a little, Hagrid lowered his voice into a whisper. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone at Hogwarts about that. I’m not supposed to be using magic.”

They nodded feverishly, as Hagrid thanked them—taking out a little pocket watch. “Ooh, we’re a bit behind schedule. Best be off!”

He headed towards the exit, looking back at the cousins who hadn’t moved yet. “Unless of course you’d want to stay?”

With that, Edith slipped on her shoes and walked out the door, Harry stumbling after.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

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cannibalgender · 2 years ago

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I have a lot of thoughts about the way mental illness is treated by the Yellowjackets writers and the fandom, particularly when it comes to the vilification and/or deification of Lottie Matthews but I’m not schizophrenic and it’s not really my place to say what’s what when it comes to that but I DO want to talk about the other character who everyone seems to agree displayed mental illness before the events of the crash and that’s Misty Quigley

The first time we see Misty she’s watching a rat drown with something close to apathy, which is to me clear visual language of what they’re setting Misty up to be. See, there’s this disproved (but still commonly used within entertainment media) psychological theory called the Macdonald Triad, or sometimes the “triad of sociopathy”. It essentially claims that three behaviors displayed by children and teens can predict if they will develop ASPD in adulthood, or become violent criminals. The behaviors are bedwetting, firesetting, and cruelty to animals. The fact that we see Misty behaving cruelly towards animals in her FIRST scene is a clear statement of intention in regards to where her character is going

Now, all of the behaviors in the Macdonald triad are actually more closely linked with prolonged childhood abuse or neglect, which leads to the DEVELOPMENT of personality disorders in some cases, lighting fires or whatever doesn’t actually make you a “sociopath”.

And…Misty isn’t really, either. At least not at first. I personally could very easily see Misty as having ASPD (or conduct disorder, since she’s a minor), but in season 1 the writers seem like they’re putting a lot of effort into associating Misty with this sort of false Hollywood perception of a “sociopath” rather than people with an actual Cluster B personality disorder. And like, Misty displays an obvious lack of empathy and concern for others’ autonomy from the very beginning, but I really and truly wasn’t sold on Misty as a sympathetic portrayal or as representation until closer to the end of Season 2

And really is was Samantha Hanratty that sold me. Because there’s a BIG discrepancy in the way Samantha and the way Christina portrays Misty. 40 year old Misty is an adult set in her ways, she’s clinging to the people who made her feel useful 25 years ago but her old eagerness, her ability to be genuinely affected or hurt has been diminished a LOT. She’s got incredibly muted emotions, masks near constantly, and is willing to do just about anything to maintain her control over wildly out of hand situations.

Whereas Samantha’s young Misty is still in a place where she’s trying to reach out- something’s “wrong” with her, sure, but she genuinely believes that others still have the ability to appreciate her for her authentic self, and much of her manipulative behavior is in search of that validation. Yeah, she doesn’t know how to go about yeah, yeah she’s fucked up, but she’s sharing bits of herself with the expectation that this will get her what she wants, and she’s repeatedly being smacked down.

And then we see the loss of Crystal. The final loss that sort of cements for her that genuine display of emotion and authenticity is doomed to destroy her and everything she cares about. So she stops caring. She detaches. And that really hit me as the most accurate portrayal I’m going to get of what the inside of my head feels like. Her brain keeps her from feeling much in adulthood as protection, but it’s so fucking boring that she’s going through the motions of who she was before all that, playacting at the bubbly musical theater loving dork she could have been, just to try and get some of that excitement back.

And now I’m wondering, with clinging to those old connections having bitten her in the ass so thoroughly, is Misty going to drop the mask completely? Give up on every being anything to anyone? Go back to isolation and manipulation and violence? Or is there hope for her, like Natalie, to make a different choice this time?

#yellowjackets showtime #Yellowjackets #misty quigley #misty yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets spoilers #yellowjackets season 2 #mistynat #crystal yellowjackets #ASPD

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 1 year ago

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The Phoenix and the Crow

part twenty-five

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: nothing much! i hope y'all enjoy!

masterlist

‘I can smell them.’ Y/N batted at her hair and clothes as she lurched through the snow, trying not to retch. She couldn’t stop seeing those bodies, the angry red flesh peeking through their burnt black casings like burnt coals. It felt like she was coated in their ashes, in the stink of burning flesh. She couldn’t take a full breath. Not that she deserved to. She wondered how many of those soldiers were at one time under her command. Under her sworn protection and care.

She had made every effort to be a mother or sister figure to the soldiers in the Second Army. That’s how you earn their loyalty, show them you care and they’re valued. And she tried. She tried so hard to make every one of them feel her compassion and empathy while maintaining her power as Lieutenant-General. She tried and it wasn’t enough. Again.

She heard an argument stir in the group behind her but she paid no mind to them until a sudden rumble shook the ground. Y/N turned around and lost her footing, she saw Kaz brace himself with his walking stick. They exchanged puzzled glances.

“Are there fault lines this far north?” Wylan asked.

Matthias frowned. “Not that I know of, but-”

A slab of earth shot up from beneath Matthias’ feet, knocking him to the ground. Another erupted to Y/N’s right, sending her sprawling. All around them, crooked monoliths of earth and ice burst upward, as if the ground were coming to life. A harsh wind whipped at their faces, snow spinning in flurries.

“What the hell is this?” cried Jesper.

“Some kind of earthquake!” shouted Inej.

“No,” said Nina, pointing to a dark spot that seemed to be floating in the sky, unaffected by the howling wind.

“We’re under attack,” Y/N spoke up. She crawled on her hands and knees, seeking some sort of shelter in order to regroup. Her mind raced as she witnessed things never done by Grisha before. There was someone in the air, hovering in the sky high above her. She was watching someone fly.

The only Grisha known to fly was herself.

She had seen Squallers play at tossing each other into the air at the Little Palace, but the level of finesse and power it took to maintain controlled flight was unthinkable– at least it had been, until now. It wasn’t a topic that they taught at the palace. Jurda parem.

Y/N had seen the drug’s effects on a Heartrender but to see it on a Squaller is a whole different field.

The Squaller turned in the air, stirring the storm into a frenzy, sending ice flying until it stung her cheeks. She could barely see. She fell backward as another slab of rock and ice shot from the ground. They were being corraled and pushed closer together to make a single target. She knew they were too high in the air for her flame to reach them.

“I need a distraction!” shouted Jesper from somewhere in the storm.

She heard a tiny plink.

“Get down!” cried Wylan. Y/N flattened her body to the snow. A boom sounded overhead, and an explosion lit the sky just to the right of the Squaller. The winds around them dropped as the Squaller was thrown off course and forced to focus on righting himself. It took the briefest second, but it was enough time for Y/N to throw her hands out to contain the fire from the bomb and direct it to the Squaller while Jesper aimed his rifle and fired.

A shot rang out, and the Squaller was hurtling toward the earth. Another slab of ice slid into place. They were trapped like animals in a pen, ready for slaughter. Jesper aimed between the slabs at a distant stand of trees, and Y/N realized there was another Grisha there, a boy with dark hair. Before Jesper could get a shot, the Grisha rammed a fist upward, and Jesper was thrown off his feet by a shaft of earth. He rolled as he fell and fired from the ground.

The boy in the distance cried out and dropped to one knee, but his arms were still raised, and the ground still rumbled and rocked beneath them.

She saw Inej signal to Kaz. Without a word, he positioned himself against the nearest slab and cupped his hands at his knee. The ground buckled and swayed, but he held steady as she launched herself from the cradle of his fingers in a graceful arc. She vanished over the slab without a sound. A moment later, the ground went still.

“Trust the Wraith,” said Jesper.

The group stood, dazed, the air strangely hushed after the chaos that had come before.

Y/N had already got to work on melting the slab of ice to get them out of there and within a few short moments the bottom collapsed and fell backward. Y/N moved her hands gracefully for the fire to swallow the ice before it hit the ground, melting it so it didn’t make as loud of a sound. Her flames radiated a heat none of them had felt before, enough to warm them all up before they would have to continue their journey.

They found Inej standing over the body of the trembling Grisha. He wore clothes of olive drab, and his eyes were glassy. Blood spilled from the bullet wound in his upper thigh, and a knife jutted from the right side of his chest. Inej must have thrown it when she’d escaped from the enclosure.

Nina knelt beside him.

“I need a little more,” the Grisha mumbled. “Just a little more.” He grabbed at Nina’s hand, and only then did Y/N recognize him.

“Nestor?”

He twitched at the sound of his name, but he didn’t seem to know either of the Grisha women above him. “Nestor, it’s me, Nina.”

Y/N knew the two of them were in school together back at the Little Palace. She had personally sent them to Keramzin together on a mission. He was a Fabrikator, one of the Durast who worked with metal, glass, and fibers. It didn’t make sense. Fabrikators made textiles and weapons. He shouldn’t have been capable of what she’d just witnessed.

“Please,” he begged, his face crumpling. “I need more.”

“Parem?”

“Yes,” he sobbed. “Yes. Please.”

“I can heal your wound, Nestor, if you stay still.”

“I don’t want your help,” he said angrily, trying to push away from her.

“Nina,” Y/N warned while placing her hand on her shoulder.

He stood up, staggering on his wounded leg, pulling at the knife buried in his chest. “Where are they?” he screamed. “Where did they go?”

The rest of the group backed up slightly while Y/N stayed in her place. “Who?”

“The Shu!” he wailed. “Where did they go? Come back!” He took a wobbling step, then another. “Come back!” He fell face forward into the snow. He didn’t move again.

Nina had rushed forward while Y/N stood still and watched in horror. This wasn’t right. Practicing the small science should make a Grisha stronger, never drain them to the point of death. Never. Grisha was never supposed to die like this, let alone a soldier. They were to be honored and held with the highest regard.

Kaz had called them all together to keep hiking but Nina argued that they couldn’t leave the body for the wolves. The two bickered for a moment before Matthias offered to help Nina and make sure they’d catch up with the other five. So the group carried on, trying to shake off the scare of the events a few long moments ago.

They all knew this wasn’t going to be an easy heist. They all signed up for it, some more willing than others. They all had to train their minds to focus back on the bigger goal at hand. Go in, get Bo Yul-Bayur, get out. Alive. All of them.

~*~

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