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#tw child murder
hussyknee · 6 months
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People seem to think this is fake because it's written in English. Apart from the racism in believing that Arab doctors and nurses aren't fluent in English (a second or official language for half of Asia), Palestinians have deliberately been addressing their audience in English on every social media, from journalists to children, because they know speaking English to Westerners immediately makes people more human in their eyes. Because language is one of the ways the imperial cultural hegemony conditions us (yes, everyone in the world) to see who qualifies as "people" and who are simply a mass of bodies who were always made to suffer and die. Gazans know this deeply, which is why they have been using English to beg and plead through social media, "We're not numbers! We're not numbers! We're people like you, we speak your language, we deserve to live!" all the while they're systematically slaughtered.
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Israeli forces also encircled Al Shifa Hospital yesterday and bombed it for several hours while shooting dead anyone trying to flee including medical staff moving between buildings. Not sure whether it's still continuing because WHO lost all communications with its staff there a few hours after. The last new report said that thirty-nine babies had been removed from the incubators before the power went out. It's extremely unlikely they will survive.
Please understand that these atrocities depend on the war of attrition between governments and public attention. The momentum of public outcry is difficult to sustain through repeated stonewalling and bureaucratic intractability. When we're flooded with these reports and a sense of futility and despair replaces the anger, it allows compassion fatigue to set in and the violence to become normalized. Massacring hospitals, killing sick children and openly targeting humanitarian aid workers (Netanyahu just declared the UNRWA is in league with Hamas) will become simply more news articles that fade into the background, and open genocides will soon become part of the "lesser evil".
Take care of yourselves how you can, take distance where needed, but please never tune out and give up on the two million people for whom we are the only witness and hope. Never stop boosting and sharing the news and posts you find, never stop getting out there and joining every protest you can, however small. Anger burns out, which is why activism must depend on an immovable sense of justice and uncompromising value for human life. It's not just about Gaza, it's about the kind of evil our generation will be coerced into accepting as unchangeable and inevitable hereafter.
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doctorsiren · 2 months
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Part 1
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faeriekit · 1 month
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Feet on the Ground
loose phic phight fill for @oldfashionedbattlehymn
warnings for: murder attempt, discussion of child death
********
Danny wakes up in a garbage bag.
It isn’t as gross as it sounds. Danny’s the only thing in there, and it’s not like the lack of air is going to kill him; he could rip his way out, but honestly, going intangible is just as effective and twice as easy.
And, of course, once he’s phased his way out of the dumpster behind the gas station, Danny is very, very grateful that he didn’t even try. Everything else in there is….eeugh. He shivers.
Well. It’s got to be early morning now—it’s dark. There’s no other cars on the highway. Even the gas station itself is closed, and the stars have already lost their spark.
Time to head home.
*
Danny wakes up behind the gas station. Again.
…Okay?
The first time, Danny had just assumed he’d fallen asleep somewhere weird while flying around the neighborhood, but a second time is a pattern. It’s definitely not his fault this time either, because there’s no way he would have duct taped his arms and legs together or slapped a gag on his mouth.
That’s kind of. Ominous.
Danny frees himself of the garbage bag first— and thank goodness he doesn’t have to breathe— he floats himself out of the bag and the dumpster, which had…thankfully been given a good scrubbing since last time? There’s some other trash, apparently, but nothing sharp enough to cut through his durable, tape-based bonds. It takes some finagling and some eye lasers for Danny to finally get his arms free.
And. Hoo Boy. There’s no more liberating a feeling than peeling tape off your mouth, even if your mouth skin kind of comes off with it and you bleed a little. But it’s fine! It’s green, which means it’ll heal.
Fabulous. Danny zooms off invisibly into the night, more than willing to put the night behind him.
*
…Okay, the third time is what makes it more than a coincidence.
Danny shucks out of the bruise-tight ropes around his wrists, torso, knees, and legs, spits out his gag, and flies home. He finally has to give into the inevitable, and attempts the last resort:
“Jazz?” he whispers, slowly rocking his sister in her bed. Jazz mumbles in her sleep.
“Jaaaaazzy…” Danny tries again, trying not to look either too spooky or too imposing. Jazz’s reflexes are such that—
The laser she keeps under her pillow goes off. Danny loses a few millimeters of hair, which means that her aim is getting better.
 He doesn’t have any trouble seeing in the dark (or, uh, not anymore, anyway), but it’s easy to see Jazz’s sleepy squint as she pulls herself somewhat upright. More like a shrimp with scoliosis, but, well. You know.
“Whuh,” Jazz asks. “...Danny?”
“Hey,” Danny whispers, a ghost at her bedside. Jazz grunts. “Uh. What does it mean when you keep waking up in a trash bag behind the gas station?”
Jazz blinks. Jazz rubs her eyes. Jazz blinks again, looking more sleepy than coherent but at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.
“Garbage bag?” Jazz asks blearily. “You were in a garbage bag?”
“Yeah,” Danny whispers back. “My legs were tied down?”
“...Danny, were you murdered?”
Danny stops.
“Huh?” says Danny.
*
“So, if you look here,” Tucker points out, finger not quite touching the glass of his CRT monitor, “That’s when Danny gets murdered.”
There is a collective eeew from the assembled viewers— Jazz, Sam, and Danny, all crowded in Tucker’s room.
“Yeah, Tucker agrees. The light from the black-and-white footage flashes in the reflection of his glasses. “Here’s where he’s tossed in…there. And this is when they tossed him in the dumpster.”
There’s no sound on the gas station surveillance footage, but Danny imagines that his body clanged on the way in. What the hell. Danny got murdered behind a gas station, and he didn’t even notice?!
They watch the archived footage of a Ford F-150 driving off the property, and then Danny’s dead body being unceremoniously tossed in a dumpster. It’s kind of surreal. No one had noticed. There was no one to report the crime committed.
“I can’t believe that guy just clocked you over the head, like that,” Sam points out. “It’s just a regular car jack. It shouldn’t have gotten you in the first place.”
The observation isn’t appreciated.
“Be nice! My brother was just murdered,” Jazz scolds. Danny doesn’t think she sounds as offended as she should be. “Either way, it’s certainly an attempted murder, if not a successful one. We have to do something.”
“…Can’t we just call the cops?” Tucker asks, turning away from the computer. “I mean. Look. That’s proof. We have proof right here.”
Sure enough, there is footage. Right there. There’s Danny’s murder, in 240p black and white.
“Where’s the body?” Sam asks dryly, and. Uh. That’s a problem they’ll have to solve.
Everyone looks at everyone else. No one has a good solution.
“…Do we have to do this?” Tucker realizes at the same second as the rest of them.
Jazz looks at Danny. Danny looks at Sam. Sam looks at Tucker.
Tucker stares back at them, entirely unenthused with the conclusion they’ve come to.
“…Okay then,” Jazz exhales. “How do you want to do this?”
*
Sam ends up on top of the gas station, a cell phone in her hand.
Tucker, PDA in hand, sits in Jazz’s passenger seat. The camera feed is ongoing and recording for posterity.
Jazz taps her fingers on the wheel of her car. There isn’t anywhere better to hide than down the road and around the corner, so she does, hoping that they’re on the other end of the road from whoever’s killing her brother every night.
Danny is, of course, wandering through the neighborhood.
Losing her baby brother—on purpose—is the worst thing Jazz can imagine. She feels sick. She wants to throw him into the car and speed away, and break every speed limit law in the county on her way out. She wants to pack him in bubble wrap and ship him expedited to France.
But she does leave her brother alone. She lets Tucker look over the footage as Danny roams around town, just as unaware and unsuspecting as his last few outings.
Tucker sees the man first.
He bolts upright, eyes on his PDA. “Jazz.”
Her head whips around. They watch, silently, as someone approaches Danny’s lone figure on the doorstep outside the gas station.
They can’t hear anything. That’s the scariest part.
“Call,” Jazz demands. Tucker does.
Doubtlessly, on the roof of the gas station, Sam is dialing too.
*
So. Danny knows this guy.
And. Uh. It’s kind of embarrassing; he’d asked if Danny was okay walking home alone at night a few hours before his dumpster wake-up call, and Danny had said it was fine.
Apparently, no, it wasn’t fine. That being said, Danny hadn’t been expecting a guy in a button-up and khakis to be the guy murdering him on the down low. He kind of looks like the dude who sells you televisions and burner phones at a Wal-Mart.
The guy comes all the way over to where Danny is sitting on the thin concrete step of the gas station. His breath fogs up from the weather and his eyes rake over Danny, up and down; down and up.
“Hey,” he says, looking all the world like any other concerned citizen. Danny’s heart throbs. “It’s cold outside. You need a ride back to town?”
“…No,” says Danny, who doesn’t.
“Your mom okay with you comin’ home late by yourself?” the man asks nervously, hands going to his hair.
Danny thinks about how many times he’s woken up in the dumpster. He thinks about seeing his own body on the camera tape. Prone. Dead.
“You still keep a car jack in your passenger seat?” Danny asks instead.
The man freezes. An attempted murderer he might be, but he’s not exactly an Oscar-winning actor. “What?”
“The car jack,” Danny repeats. He doesn’t know if he’s mad the man keeps targeting him, or whether he’s grateful Danny’s the only one who’s died so far. “It’s got a lot of sharp corners. They hurt, you know.”
The man…carefully laughs the statement off, but he looks. Nervous.
Danny doesn’t really need to confront him; he only has to stall long enough that Tucker or Sam can call the cops, so that they can see this man’s face and get him on the record. But.
There’s a part of Danny…
The man looks so human. Flush with blood. Solid enough to break. Fragile enough to be made broken.
Danny still resents being made dead. This man didn’t kill Danny—not in any way that mattered, but he’s an easy target.
He doesn’t breathe. The man watches a boy sit in the shadows of a building where he’s been dumping bodies, and Danny can taste his fear.
“It hurt a lot,” Danny says, and he isn’t referring to waking up in the bags every couple of mornings in the last few weeks. “It hurt so much. I was screaming.”
The man is silent.
“Do you like to hear the screaming?” Danny asks, suddenly curious. Did he care, if Danny had screamed, or if he had been too unaware to notice he was dying? Would he have cared, if there were others more breakable than Danny that he had hurt?
He doesn’t answer.
“I don’t like it,” Danny confesses. In a horrible way, it’s easy to tell his would-be murderer about his death—unlike Tucker or Sam, who witnessed it, or Jazz, who loves him, this man can’t be affected by Danny’s take on his own death. In fact, if he is hurt by the thought of Danny’s death…good. It’s better if he is. If there is remorse in him. “I don’t like to hear screaming. I screamed for so long, and so loud. It felt like forever.”
The man’s hands curl. He steps back.
Danny can’t help but to frown. If he leaves, the whole point of calling the cops will be for nothing, and he’ll be warier of coming back to where Danny’s body was dropped. “Where are you going?”
The man takes another step back. Danny rockets upright. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Weren’t you here for me?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, arms outstretched. “We’re here. You dumped me here over and over again.”
“Shut up,” the man snaps, startling the both of them with his volume. “He—you’re not real. You’re… Be quiet. I have real things to get done tonight!”
Danny’s dead heart throbs. Is there another dead kid? Did Danny let another kid get killed in Danny’s place? “Do you?”
The man loses his voice.
“We’re already here,” Danny points out. He steps closer—closer to the truck that drove his dead body around town, further from the dumpster where his body had been dropped. The disposal hadn’t been a funeral, but it’s closer than anything Danny’s ever had. “You’re here. I’m here. Aren’t you here for me?”
A choked breath. Danny gets closer. The ectoplasm in his skin is too warm and too cold—but he has no idea what he looks like from the outside. Is he glowing? Is he see-through? Does he just look like any other dead kid: a little too cold, a little too pale?
They’re eye to increasingly shorter eye. Up close, the man just looks like any other guy. Shaved in the face. Wrinkles around his eyes. A nose. A mouth.
Danny’s not afraid of him. His head tilts. “You’ve already killed me three times. What are you going to do now? I’ll just come back again. I won’t even notice. I died. I know what you look like—I know how to find you. It’ll be easy.”
The man’s pupils dilate—
And then there’re hands on Danny’s neck. And. It’s kind of painful, but Danny doesn’t have to breathe. So. He just kind of…pretends to be hurt?
He’s meant to be stalling for time. The cops are coming. All he needs is time.  
So Danny makes some somewhat dramatic sounds and kicks out with his feet, because a fight lasts longer than a passive victim. He lands a hit to the man’s stomach, and another to his chest—he doesn’t drop Danny the way Danny might have expected, but Danny isn’t going to run out of air, so this can last forever until the man lets go. Or does something.
“Stop— coming— back,” the man snarls, and suddenly sounds nothing like the dudes who man the tech counter at the Walmart. “I got you— you should be gone!” 
Danny is gone. But he’s also here. And he’s also been gone for a very long time, and he’s also getting choked out by a guy in a gas station parking lot. It’s been a rough few hours of waiting for this dude. He might as well make it worth it. 
So maybe his body turns a little translucent. Just a little. Just enough to see the streetlight through his skin, probably, and the hazy road behind them. 
Getting thrown to the concrete hurts, but, you know, not as badly as getting tossed into a wall by Skulker on a rampage. Danny’s barely going to be bruised after this. 
The guy runs to his car, and Danny frowns, scrambling back up, and, wait. Wouldn’t having bruises be better? As evidence? They better not heal too quickly, or else that’ll be it of his physical proof. 
“Where are you going?” Danny asks, more perplexed and angry than anything. Isn’t he supposed to try to kill the witness??
But the guy hauls butt into the cab of his truck— and then the lights go on and the tires start spinning, the engine roaring to life. 
If Danny wasn’t actively on camera at the moment, it would be easy to fly after the car. As it is, he’s pretty fast, but he’s not quite quick enough on his feet to chase after a pickup truck careening down the highway in the dark. 
The man’s gone in a few seconds. Honestly, Danny’s kind of annoyed about the whole thing. It would have been nice for it to work. 
Sam climbs down from the roof of the gas station, phone in her hand. “No, I just— he choked out my friend and drove off! Send someone over here already!! You— do you need the license plate again?!” 
Danny just looks at her. Sam covers her phone’s mic with a hand: “They’re saying five minutes,” she mouths. 
Great. 
Danny hunkers down, throat bruising, and Sam sits down beside him. They wait.  
By the time the cops pull into the gas station, the guy’s more than out of sight. Sam’s the one who takes the lead on dictating their story. Danny sort of doesn’t realize how out of it he is until someone tries to throw a shock blanket on him. He almost hits the guy square in the face— and Sam’s the one who has to catch his arm. 
Uh. Oops. 
Jazz and Tucker roll in, hardly pretending to have not been nearby; Jazz wraps her arms around him, and Danny lets her. 
Sue him. It’s late. He’s tired. 
“...And I can’t believe you weren’t able to get down the road in time to catch a man who choked out my best friend,” Sam snaps, which, aw! Danny’s a best friend. The cop she’s attempting to strip down for parts looks less sympathetic than Danny feels. “You’re barely a ten minute drive up the highway! What were you doing, meandering?” 
“No,” the cop grits out, eying Sam like a bug on his shoe. “We were telling the officer down the road what to look out for.” 
Apparently, jamming the gas down hard enough to bust your speedometer gets you pulled over at the speed check. 
The night is over before Danny knows it. Someone gets him to the station, someone takes photos of his bruises and takes his statement. Someone calls Mom and Dad and then Danny’s in the GAV, half asleep and exhausted beyond belief. 
He falls asleep on the couch, Mom’s fingers in his hair. 
*
It’s not like the Amity Park police tell them anything, but Jazz is the one who finds the report on the news. 
She records it on the TiVo for him. 
“Eustace Miller, from Tennessee,” Sam reads aloud, knee to knee on his couch. Tucker adjusts his glasses. “Looks like he was already on the run.” 
“Or as good as,” Tucker agrees quietly. “Looks like they’re pinning a couple of cold cases to him.” 
They watch; there’s pictures of him from his hometown, and from the towns he would visit on his joyride across the country. There were pictures of his family. There were pictures of kids Danny would never meet: kids who were already dead, and who had been for months. Years, even. 
They’d looked so happy in the photos from when they were alive. 
…Danny could relate. 
Jazz turns the report off that night, thumb on the power button. And that’s all it takes for Danny to stop waking up in a trash bag. 
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fxtalitygod · 4 months
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Survival. IX
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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, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint)
Word Count: 3.4k
JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue
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You remembered the most content morning you had ever had. It was a relatively beautiful and tranquil day in the garden. The sky was clear, and the sun was beaming brightly, yet the weather was pleasant. It was the most satisfying day you had ever had within the temple.
It was also the day your twins spoke their first word.
You had been spending quality time with your twins, your attendant joining the activities as you both basked in their childish nature. She had grown as close as family and acted like an aunt to your kids, and if you were being honest, she felt like a sister to you in some sense. You truly appreciated her company and assistance throughout the time you had known her— especially when sharing this memorable moment.
It felt like it was out of a dream when the word effortlessly slipped from your daughter’s mouth. Moments ago, she was a child who only knew how to babble, laugh, and cry, but now she was a little girl capable of speaking. And if your daughter hadn’t surprised you enough, your son letting the same word slip next had left you paralyzed with shock.
“Mama.”
Yes, it was a standard word for a child to speak first other than Dada or Papa— a cliché, as most would say, but that was the last thing on your mind. To hear your child acknowledge you for the first time and know they recognize you as their mother was a pleasure that could not compare to the joys of sex, alcohol, or money– it is a pleasantry of its own. You swore you would do anything to hear them call you their "Mama" for as long as possible.
And if anyone took that away from you, they would be damned to hell.
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The screams of a woman echoed through the temple. The shrieks were ear-splitting and could cause anybody's ears to bleed upon walking into the hearing radius. You could only listen as the screams continued, the sound muffling out as your ears began to ring again.
Why was she screaming? The woman in question should have been thrilled that your children were deceased– they would have been a threat to her. She was probably trying to win Sukuna's favor in some fucked up way. The bitch had no right to grieve in your presence nor in solitude. You had every want to strangle her soundless; however, something stopped you from that impulse.
Your throat began to burn.
At that moment, you realized the screams of grief and agony were those of your own. Nobody was present in that room, just you and Sukuna, as your cries echoed in the room and nearby halls. You were blinded by your own tears as you stared at the now-blurry image of your twin's hanging corpses, choking on your own sobs as you collapsed to the ground, holding your midriff with the painful thought that the life you had cultivated within you for nine months and raised for six years was now reduced to carcasses hanging from a wall.
Your blessings had been snatched from you, from right under your nose.
You should have known things would have not been so simple. You should have never let your guard down for even a second. This was your punishment for being so blissfully ignorant when you should have analyzed all the possible faults in your plan and anticipated any threats that remained to perform a clean escape.
You stood on weak legs, shuffling to the wall that was covered in blood. In your mind, you always thought that the blankness of those walls would drive you mad– you never anticipated that the splash of color would be the thing that forced you to insanity. The crimson dripping down the wall proved you wrong.
Your hands shook as your fingers hovered over the pins that were holding your children in place, flinching back as you swallowed the bile rising up your throat before reaching for one of the pins again. You made an attempt to hold back your sobs but with little success. Huffs, spittles, and gurgles continued to resonate from you as you held back your cries– you looked pathetic.
Your hands felt weak as you pulled the pin, the audible squelching sound of the flesh rubbing against the item sickening you to the core, yet you persisted. You pulled the lower pins that you could reach from your son and daughter, tears gushing out of your eyes as you did so. No torture was as great as this, especially when you went to reach the higher ones. You stood on your toes, stretching for the pins that were sunk into your twin's hands, but it was futile. Under normal circumstances, you could have reached that high; you would have improvised a way to do it, but your mind was numb, and your body felt weak.
"Help me," you choked as you continued to reach.
The only response you got was silence.
"Please," you weakly whispered, "Please, help me."
Silence lingered again, but before you could plea a second time– your husband spoke.
"Why?"
You paused in your movement, your breath hitching as the simple word echoed in your head.
"Why?" you repeated, bewilderment found in your whisper, "Why?"
Your head slowly turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming with fury as you looked at Sukuna.
"I'll tell you why," you seethed, "For eight years, I have lived in this temple with you and your sickened whores and bastards– lived in your residence with little to no complaint. I have endured everything bestowed upon me and have managed to keep my spine straight with my head held high– and when in your presence, I have given you nothing but the lowest bows of respect despite the falsities of that action; I sacrificed my pride!" you paused to breathe before continuing, "I bore you children and dealt the blunt trauma of my impossible pregnancy and labor without complaint or ask of favor because you and I both know I would have gladly died in the process. In my life here, I have asked you for ONE SINGULAR FAVOR that would benefit both of us!"
Another pause as you caught your breath.
"The very least you could do," your voice shook with exasperation, "is grant me this one selfish wish."
"Do you understand the line you are crossing, Little Flower," Sukuna threatened as he took a few steps forward.
"Well aware," you answered without hesitation, "but at least if you killed me now, I would reunite with my children and be rid of you," you grinned mockingly at your partner.
You watched as the menacing man raised a hand, keeping eye contact with you as he did so. Normally you would have feared that this was the end of the line, but that was before your worst nightmare had already came true. Some part of you wished that he would hit you, hoping that once he did, he would snap you out of what you hoped what was an illusion of some sort, a night terror, a cursed technique, possibly a hallucination— all three were very much possibilities, but deep down you knew you were in denial, however, you did not want to accept it.
The slap never came.
Instead, your companion reached his arm above you, removing the pins that held your twins hostage against the wall. Sukuna took his time, clearly in no rush, leaving you antsy as you began to wriggle in impatience. You just wanted to hold them and look upon their innocent face. Maybe they were not dead, maybe there was still a breath of life in them, and you could somehow convince your husband to use his curse reversal technique on them due to the terms of your contract.
Maybe, just maybe…
Once the last pins restraining your children were removed, you were quick to cradle your twins, holding them close to your chest as more sobs escaped from your quivering lips. Your fingers lightly touched their skin as you caressed their faces with motherly gentleness. After moments, your cries subsided into a quiet lament as you continued to hold your little boy and girl.
You would have done anything to prevent this fate.
"Mama..." a voice spoke, but excessively strained and quiet.
You jumped up to see your little boy's eyes open no more than a slit. Without hesitation, you rushed to grab his face, babbling words of encouragement for him to stay awake. You were eager as you prepared to attempt to perform reverse cursed technique, but before you could, another strained voice sounded.
"Ma-Mama."
You panicked once more, moving to face your daughter as her condition was nearly the same. You were torn on what to do and had almost turned to Sukuna for his assistance, but it was useless. As quickly as those words were spoken were as fast as they faded back into eternal sleep.
What was this? You had to ask again, but what had you done to deserve this? To be worthy of this torture? Was there not a more deserving candidate for this cruelty you were enduring? Had you just been born to be cursed like this?
Questions raveled your mind, and thoughts ate at you alive– you were beginning to spiral. Your voice, along with many of the other voices from your past, flooded your head, screaming at you all at once as the memories began to invade your consciousness. Your head was starting to hurt from lingering in your mind, far away from reality. If anyone were to look upon your form, you would seem like the hollow husk of a woman based on how you sat there unmoving and totally silent as you stared blankly at the bloody wall– it seemed like you were looking through it like a piece of glass, that is how lost you were, until...
Everything went silent.
The voices in your head had settled, and all you could hear was Sukuna's breathing and your own echoing throughout the room. It was eerily quiet as the two of you remained.
"Their first words were their last."
You spoke without thought; the words had just slipped as you turned back to the father of your children, being met with his expressionless stare. You did not expect a response, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was no happier about this situation than you were; however, Sukuna was not grieving like you were. Your reasons for your dour moods were different, but that did not matter– you both were upset about what occurred.
As you held your husband's stare, it was almost as if you had some sort of understanding with one another, communicating without speaking before turning your attention back to your twins. With caution, you gently lifted your children into your arms, slowly standing as you managed to balance their limp bodies in your hold as you walked toward the door.
Your feet moved without command as you walked through the corridor, Sukuna walking at your side as you ventured in silence. The experience was almost that of your arrival at the temple– all eyes were on you; however, there were no whispers of gossip or vial comments and disgusting displays of arousal as you departed. The tension radiating from your aura was too great for such ill manners to be publicly displayed.
You had no clue where you were going and were hardly thinking about it. Your mind was void of consciousness as you reached the grand doors of the temple, stepping out into the cool night air. A part of you wishes you could have enjoyed it, to relish your first time outside the temple walls since your marriage, but the feeling was bitter and dull, especially as you looked upon the lights illuminating from your village.
Trekking through the terrain, you watched the lights grow brighter and more prominent, similar to the unknown feeling festering in your chest. You could hear their voices, their chanting of uprising as you approached the crowd, stopping just at the border of your village. One of the village elders was the first to notice you and Sukuna's approaching figures before ceasing the noise, focusing on your arrival.
"Y/n L/n, you have finally come home. Your family will be happy to know that you have finally returned," pausing to look at Sukuna before bringing his attention back to you, "It was wise of this monster to return you as requested. Come now child, we shall reunite you with your family."
You could hear him speak and understand his meaning and indirect stab at Sukuna's pride, but the words flowed from one ear to the other as your body remained rooted at the barrier.
"Come now, child, you are free!" the elder insisted as he motioned to you, confused and seemingly irritated at your lack of response.
"No."
The word slipped out seamlessly as you blankly stared at the man, watching his expression turn into shock.
"What do you mean, 'No'?"
"It means what I said," you simply responded before continuing, "Why would I come back to a home that sent me away like a lamb to the slaughter. You presented me like a slab of meat to the man you call a monster as if he were some valued patron, but suddenly, I have become worthy of retrieval after how many years? Why is that?"
"You ungrateful woman! We have pursued you for some time due to your parents' request. They paid handsomely to bring you back home, paid enough to fund our cause."
"And what cause was that?!" you retaliated.
"To kill that vile creature who stole you from us, my dear daughter!"
"...Mother," you whispered to yourself as your mom came into view, your father following her as they made their presence known.
"But it seems his influence has already tainted your mind," your mother spoke with a solemn look in her eyes, "But we can fix that if you just come home." the woman persisted as she held her arms out for a welcoming embrace.
Her comfort was tempting, but there was a lingering feeling of hesitance the longer you looked at the picture. This was something you wished for a long time, to be welcomed home with open arms, but the dream seemed stale as you stood there unmoving.
"Then why were harmless children slaughtered in his place?" you questioned.
"Harmless?" your parents uttered, baffled by your statement, "Those children were born to become monsters along with their father! They were far from harmless! That is why we had to cut them out of the picture!" your father yelled.
"...You did it?" you softly asked.
You could see your father's mouth open before closing, moving his gaze from your eyes to the motionless bodies in your arms. The disgusted faces your parents held were replaced with one of bewilderment and fear. They could finally understand your reluctance.
"Y/n..."
"They were harmless..." you started in a mutter, "They were not monsters! They were innocent! And you accused them of crimes they have never committed!"
"With their upbringing, it would have been inevitable! They were their father's children, after all!" the village elder interrupted, disdain laced in his voice.
"They were not guilty of Sukuna's crimes! They were innocent children!" you voiced, outraged with the small-minded thinking.
You looked to your parents for support but were only met by them avoiding your stare. They believed their actions were reasonable and considered them valid. You were not the one who was influenced... they were.
"Damn you all," you muttered, turning your back to the villagers.
"We did this for you to survive, Y/n! And here you are, well and alive. You kept your promise, so please come home!"
"Survived...survived..." Your chest heaved as you began to laugh hysterically. You placed your children down before rising, "Is this what survival is, just staying alive? Well, if that is the case, then yes, I have survived just like I promised, but with the cost of my life! I may have survived, but I will never live...not without them."
"There will be other opportunities to have children, my dear, with a far better suitor," your mother attempted to persuade, her arms still held open.
"Excuse me?"
That had done it.
"The man you practically sold me to was far from my first choice of significant other, but at least he managed to give my life some meaning, something to live for...and you took it from me, the last crowd of people I thought would do such a thing...how naive of me."
"Y/n, if we-"
"If you what?! Tell me, if you had known those children were mine, would you have spared them, given them mercy?"
No response.
"That's what I thought. You know I had hoped to come home with open arms, and shown by tonight, my wish came true; however, that was before I had the twins– the dream expanded to have all three of us welcomed with warmth...how pitifully optimistic of me."
"Y/n, I cannot tell you those events you hoped for would have come to fruition, but I can tell you this: you can start over, have a family you have always dreamed of... pure children."
Silence.
"They. Were. PURE!"
And just like that, the extent of that unusual feeling lingering in your chest had unleashed. The full extent of your furry had combusted in the form of your cursed energy and technique. Within the blink of an eye, what was once a bustling village full of chatter and laughter was now a blazing inferno filled with screams and cries.
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 bodies 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 retired 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 hollers of distress with its rapid thumping.
They were now suffering the pain and torture you had suffered for years to its full extent...
Unlike you, it was the kind of punishment they deserved.
You allowed yourself to view the sight for a few seconds longer before picking up your son and daughter, balancing them in your embrace again, and turning your back towards the village. You began to walk toward the temple, knowing better than to run off, but it was not like you had a reason to go anywhere else. There was no life for you. You were to remain by Sukuna's side until you died, and you were content with that.
"Y/n."
With all the heightened emotions and events that occurred only moments ago, you had forgotten Sukuna was there. The curse user had not muttered a word nor made a movement. He idly watched your wrath unfold, watched as you burnt your home to the ground.
You paused for a minute, looking blankly ahead as you thought of the past and reflected on your choices. Out of every action you committed, there was one you regretted most.
"I should have killed myself that morning, the morning after the ceremony. It would have saved me a lot of trouble and heartache."
With that, you walked off into the night, letting that thought of regret linger in your mind.
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Taglist:
@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya@pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one@rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade
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Too late
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animentality · 6 months
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itsguysnightitsironic · 8 months
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"Eat your young before they eat you."
So anyways, I'm team hags now, the world hates a girlboss--
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elsa-rain-world-stuff · 7 months
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Artihunter but messed up...
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I just saw a comic where Hunter is running after a slugpup ready to eat them and then Arti shoots Hunter and this kinda showed up in my head
And this is the same timeline where wrong metropolis ending is happening 🥰😍🥰😘🥰 making my fav girlie suffer even more 💖💕😘💖💖🥰💖😘💕
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mousebone-s · 2 months
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Redesigns of my patience soul design (her name is Wynn). Headcanons / info under the cut:
- 9 yrs old
- LV 3 (was occasionally manipulated into harming monsters by Flowey)
- she/her
- likes: toys, playing pretend, animals, puzzles, mysteries
- dislikes: bullies, being alone, spiders
- has juvenile arthritis, Chron’s disease, and generalized anxiety disorder
- bullied heavily for her timidness and perceived weakness before falling
- extremely shy, had very few friends aside from some teachers and Hero (bravery soul)
- parents were strict and overprotective, partly because of her chronic illnesses. Father was always working and rarely interacted w/ Wynn. Mother was sometimes smothering and emotionally manipulative, sometimes cold and distant.
- often went to Mt Ebott to play. One day, bullies saw her heading to the mountain and followed her. They pretended they were going to throw her in, and one of the bullies dangled her over the edge. The ground beneath chipped, and the bully stumbled to keep their footing, accidentally dropping Wynn into the hole.
- after falling, felt apprehensive about returning home because of how kind Toriel was, but ultimately didn’t want to hurt her best friend and parents.
- Wynn discovered her soul power (she would not take damage as long as she stayed still) and used it to avoid harm long enough to spare monsters. When she got to Asgore, though, she was so afraid upon realizing he would not accept mercy that she tried to run, allowing Asgore to deal one fatal blow.
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hussyknee · 7 months
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I want you to bear witness to what your people are complicit in.
What your governments, the leaders you hold your nose and vote for do.
What people who "refuse to take a stance" because they "don't know enough" are really saying.
What you're asking when you demand that Palestinians condemn Hamas.
When you try to defend Zionism and the "two state solution".
What is meant by "Israel defending itself".
I want you to think about what you're saying when you say you're too exhausted to keep up with the current political issues.
You can't open any other social media without seeing live footage of buildings ablaze and maimed children screaming and the bright, smiling pictures of the dead. I want you to think about why Tumblr, that famously skews white American, is only platform where even the tag only has a few hundred notes on most posts.
If any of you Westerners want to invoke Nazism as the epitome of fascist, genocidal evil, against whom any amount of collective punishment is justified, you might want to take a good look in the mirror first. Then maybe you'll understand what we mean when we say that all evil is human.
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Honestly, the inner workins of The Anti Mentality™ make me super curious sometimes.
Like, SURE, we all know William Afton is an asshole who killed kids, and possibly tortured them too, and possibly was also an asshole who abused his family.
BUT HOW DARE YOU DEPICT HIM AS A CREEP OR A PERV YOU'RE GROSS YOU'RE GROSS YOU'RE GROSS YOU'RE GROSS YOU'RE GROSS YOU'RE
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selkiewife · 6 months
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For me it’s the way he begins this statement not even able to meet her gaze. And then he raises his eyes and holds her gaze for a moment on the most difficult and horrifying part of the line before immediately dropping his eyes again. It still claws at me.
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luminalunii97 · 11 months
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Another child was murdered by the terrorist regime of Iran
Morteza Delf-Zargani was a 9 year old child from Khuzestan province of Iran. He was murdered while sitting in his family car. According to his family they received no warning before the ir police started firing at their car. The police claimed they thought it was a stolen car.
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Morteza Delf-Zargani’s father says the police started shooting at their car in the city of Shushtar without even a single warning and based on a false report of car theft.
According to the victim’s uncle, “when they saw the police car behind them, they intended to stop, but without any warning the police opened fire and Morteza died on the spot.”
In March, a two-year-old child was killed after Iranian special forces opened fire at the car carrying him and his family in the central city of Esfahan (Isfahan).
Morteza's case is also reminiscent of Kian Pirfalak, a 10-year-old boy who was killed by the Islamic Republic's security forces when they started shooting at his father's car during the 2022 protests. -iran international news
Today is Kian Pirfalak birthday too. He was a 10 year old child who was murdered during the nation wide protests in Iran by IRGC forces.
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fxtalitygod · 6 months
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VIII. ~Survival~
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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
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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."
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serial-designation-dz · 4 months
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First look at the Spiritfarer AU! (calling it that for simplicity's sake)...
Additional info below the cut:
The spirit forms are not from spiritfarer, I just wanted an excuse to draw more doggo & birbs. Also angst/fluff potential.
Uzi, like in MD, is smol.
This is actually based on one of the early concepts of spiritfarer rather then the game itself. If you've read the artbook you probably know what I'm talking about.
V would probably be a lizard as a nod to episode 5.
Tessa gives me mama bear vibes so shes probably gonna be a bear. (personality is based on her past self, not present. I'm not even sure current Tessa in MD is actually Tessa.)
J is a cat, mainly for her opposition of N and Uzi.
Cyn is a centipede or insect like monstrosity, i feel like I don't need to explain that one.
As for the workers? Doll will be there, but I'm not sure about the others. (she'd be a full on bat, connecting her to Uzi, but no crow wings).
Why is Uzi a hybrid? Simple. I couldn't decide on weather to make her a bat or a birb, so I did both.
Uzi's spirit flower is the black iris, which is a symbol for rebellion.
Nate/N's spirit flower is the yellow rose, which represents friendship.
Most spirits wear the last clothes they wore before death.
Is this just an excuse to draw what I think Uzi and N's fursonas would be? Maybe.
Doll, J, V, and Cyn all have that same scar on their eyes. Cyn has it on both.
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