breakers-of-dogma - Tumblr blog

[breakers-of-dogma]

burn forever bright, dearest sorrow

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ART BY: MIEOIII

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Neo’s heart was beating fast; he felt tightness in his throat and sweat trickling down his forehead.

That was a first in… decades.

He couldn’t place the feeling, could not name it - an average person would be able to do so, though: it was excitement, mixed with fear. Now, the person in front of him didn’t make him afraid, but the feelings that they caused? His once dead emotions dancing their heart out, tearing his heart out - that scared him more than anything. This loss of control… last time he allowed himself to feel like this was the day he lost his childhood; and he touches the scar under his eye, a painful reminder of that loss, an everlasting warning to his future and past selves: never lose your cool, never give in, never again let yourself feel.

Yet, here he was.

Looking at Shiro beating a man senseless. His laughter was deafening; but no louder than the beats of his heart and fists. As frail as he looked, it seemed as if emotion made him bigger, bigger than the world, bigger than anything Neo has ever seen - and he punched with all his might; sweat glistening in the moonlight, blood covering his face and fists and clothes and ground around him.

A punch in the jaw, a crack of the bones.

Neo healed both men - Shiro’s broken fingers and the man’s disfigured jaw, and then…A punch in the gut, wet cough, splattering of blood spouting from the man’s mouth. 

Neo took care of the man’s ruptured insides, and then… A rock brought down to the other’s arm, crack of bone and a scream that no one can hear. 

And amidst all of that, erratic heartbeat that entranced Neo; that made his breathing quicken; that made his emotions rear their ugly, ugly heads.

Yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, more drawn to it every moment spent looking.

// @arathina

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flesh and bone

Plates of meat. All around. Rotting. There for days. Meat. Only meat. Just flesh of other creatures. He can hear them crying in pain, even now. He must not eat. He must not. his brother is in another room  - is he also suffering? Did he have less qualms about eating to just survive? Or did he also hear their screams? Surely, he had to.

He had to.

The stench of rotting flesh, unbearable. All consuming. And the hunger, about to take him like a wild beast hunting its prey for days; he’s on his last legs, and he is surrounded by wolves. Never has he felt like this, until he got caught for the first time. The wound is still bleeding sometimes - he keeps picking on it, keeping it fresh for far longer - the pain staves off hunger. 

The moment they realised he would not eat meat was the moment they started sending in only meat. Serve or die, they said. Serve or die. He’d prefer to die than live in servitude but what about his brother then? What will he do without him? He’s but a child,  still - he must not be left all  alone in this world. He… he must take care of him. He must. He must not say his name, he must not treat him close, he must not give them ammunition lest they hurt him-

And he retches. Hears Garleans in front of the cell laugh; they have masks, the smell is not bothering them, they just watch him suffer. They watch him suffer and laugh. They will burn, one day - they will burn. He retches once again, but except for acid, his stomach is empty. Has been for days now. Weeks even, maybe? He feels himself growing smaller, weaker. Less likely to resist. His brother’s screams and shouts are dying out slowly, as well. What is happening to him? Will he be safe? Will they both manage to get out alive?

Obedience is key, he thinks. Just enough for them to start trusting him, to believe they broke him. But the screams won’t stop, they won’t stop - and he retches again, and again, inhaling the stench more with every movement, puking out acid again and again and again and again.

Days pass in a haze; and they cleaned up his room the day before - a sign of good faith, they said. But a plate with meat is back on the floor, and he hears screams; but they’re mixing with his brother’s and he chooses which ones hurt him more.

Sharp incisors tear into flesh; this one is raw, he notices distantly. The blood is flowing freely, and it is…  still… somewhat warm. Yet he tears into it all the same, and the screams are growing quieter.

He eats, fills his aching belly, knowing he will just puke it out all the same. Yet, he bites into it, tears it apart and barely chews; a starved animal, that’s the part he plays. And when they  open the door, it will be all as they planned it to be. He will be theirs. He will let himself become theirs.

There’s no nature calling out to him anymore.

There’s only one voice howling in pain now, and it is his brother’s.

He will help him.

He will.

He will play pretend for as many years as he can, he will see them come and go, and he will survive. They will survive.

And the rest can burn. 

[breakers-of-dogma]

ART BY: COMFORTKITTEN

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ART BY: MUIMUSHI

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Feel, Remember

An opportunity had finally risen to see him fully in his element. So relaxed and seemingly nonchalant in the face of battle. He looked at his enemies, grinning from ear to ear, each hit of his feeling personal, as well as satisfactory. For every scar, a new body laid on the ground, mutilated to the point of no recognition, never losing his momentum. The face his enemies saw was not the one that most recognize Ethys for. The serious and cold faced Viera was no longer there - replaced by someone only his brother could even remotely recognize as his own - a maniacal murderer who wasted not even a moment to cause further chaos and bloodshed. Each time he felt the drop of blood on his face, it fueled him to charge and strike even harder than before. He knew that this was it, this was his freedom, and he rejoiced in it.

But that would only last for so long before his mind would begin to go astray. As he stood on the pile of disembodied flesh of those who dared threaten or attempt to hurt him or his brother, all the blood, fire and ash surrounding him, it was as if he was back in Garlemald again, the bodies resembling the soldiers that once had control over them both, all which had died by his hand. The more he looked around the more he would remember. One memory after another, suddenly the calm and steady warrior was losing his balance, his headaches eating at him once again, making him unable to see anything but black for a while.

Flashes of all too familiar imagery of his and his brother’s shared past would begin to resurface in his mind and, like a sudden influx of polarizing thoughts that he could neither control or fight, he would then be filled with…Emotion. Laughter.

Uncontrollable laughter. How quickly his behavior changed. The pure joy he felt seeing them all rounded up on the ground and knowing that not even a singular person would be able to mourn them, he could almost make himself scream at the top of his lungs from how difficult it was to contain his cackles - and yet it was accompanied by so much sorrow. Hearing distorted screams and cries of Neo in his head, the Garleans' mocking chuckles next to their nauseating machinery that he so feared, and even his own voice - it was no longer recognizable what the man was feeling, tears falling on the ground as he kept laughing endlessly. Caught in a fit of mania, Ethys could barely hold it together as his emotions devoured him mercilessly.

"It's not enough", he thought to himself. It never was. "Garlemald will burn", but no matter how many people die, Garlean or not, it never truly fulfilled him and always left him starving and aching for more.

After taking so many lives of those who stood against him and his brother and taking them all out with such ease no less, it's almost as if the comedy was writing itself once he began stumbling due to… What, exactly?

Ethys, a Viera powerful enough to squash a person’s head with just his bare hand, is losing to… Feelings…? Hysterical, yet infuriating.

● ● ● His thoughts would then shift towards Neo - his anger turning to regret, wishing that he could have done better for his brother, but obeying the Garleans was not in his nature. All he needed was to see Neo’s eyes overwhelmed with tears and he would be reminded that he had one reason to still be alive, to not be tamed. Perhaps that spark was the reason they managed to escape, but Ethys never saw it that way. No, he always saw himself as a problem Neo had to solve - A failure of a brother, as he couldn’t even protect him as much as he hoped to do. And so, even memories that gave him a satisfactory answer back then were not good enough anymore. The little bit of hope in him was slowly seeping out and escaping, leaving him with hatred in his heart. With each passing moment the thoughts would become more devoid of any sense of rationality. He would even find himself regretting his own birth, as obscure as that thought may be. He would keep digging further and further, searching for any solution or at least a conclusion to his thoughts, anything at all that would help him soothe his mind knowing that the choice he would make would be one that both he and Neo would be okay with, no matter how horrible or difficult. Even if it was his own death, he just wanted to know. Yet the answer never came, and he was stuck circling around the same memories, thoughts and feelings; and then, once again, he began to tremble the same way he did back when the two of them were still prisoners. His smile still accompanied him faintly, but what Ethys felt was far from anything resembling even a hint of happiness. His eyes stared blankly at the ground, his body immovable - but just before he would lose himself completely, Neo would arrive not a moment too late, ready to do what he always did - stop his little brother’s head from hurting him any further. “It is enough, it is okay. Focus on my heartbeat, I’m here. I’m here.” He heard his brother's soft whispers, repeating over and over again, and slowly, the gloom exited his mind enough to acknowledge Neo's presence, his hatred for the world replaced with his love for his older brother, the one he cherished so dearly. His words are comforting, his touch so loving, reminding him of the times when he was so small, Neo often chose to hold him in his arms. All of it made him feel so overwhelmed that he simply could not stand anymore and let himself fall into his brother’s arms - let himself feel, his sobs and weeps reminiscent of those he made when he was just a child. As he continued to tremble, Neo spared no moment to continue calming him down, occasionally petting his head, each of his motions so gentle and caring, as he knew very well what Ethys was going through. Finally, as he began to gain some sense and control over his body again, Ethys lifted his arms to hug his brother, and after some moments passed, he was able to gather enough strength to say something he always wanted him to hear. A simple phrase, one that Neo would always remember: "Thank you, and I’m sorry."

[breakers-of-dogma]

Drop of mad Drop of bad Now, you are born here.

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Some notes about Neo's prosthetic magitek arm.

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Main references

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ARTWORK BY - RAVENSBEAT

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And they shall all be bloody concrete beneath your feet.

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its a birf gift ((sobbing i love them // by chib for sonne //

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BREAKERS OF DOGMA - Crest design

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take what you need, say your goodbyes

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I love his scars help