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philliamwrites · 4 years

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The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.6]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 5.1k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

Chapter 06: From The Beyond

Ah! It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace.

[Mary B. Shelley, Frankenstein]

Thinking back on it later, the events during Garland Moon were probably what set the hare running toward its demise. Not that any of you could have known that. Not the students who joyfully spend their days in cherished halls where daylight passes through coloured glass; not Byleth with her gift to correct past mistakes with a flick of her wrist and change the course of time; not you with your foresight to see what dangers await in the future and prepare a different path for those you care for to walk safely.

Thinking back on it later, everything that followed surely ascribed to and served Fate, and not even Sylvain could charm her with his silver tongue and golden wit, for Fate’s lover is Time and she does not look kindly upon those who enslave him.

Maybe that is why things turned out the way they did for Byleth and you.

But that future is still far away and every single one of you still believes the goddess has Fate tightly leashed to her side, her benevolence endless and spreading to every corner in Fódlan.

That is why you don’t think too much about it when one day, Seteth disturbs your seminar, a deep frown settled in his features as you explain how to turn an ambush to your advantage to the students.

“Apologies for the disturbance, Herald. Lady Rhea asks to see Ashe.”

The boy gives a pitiful squeal but is up on his feet nonetheless. “Me? Why?”

“You will see. Please come.” Seteth holds the classroom’s door open.

You nod, a little worried about the frightened glance Ashe sends your way like he hopes you can actually say no and decline Rhea’s command. An encouraging smile is everything you can give him on his way before the door shuts behind him. Its sound wakes everyone else from their slumber and it takes a few minutes to reclaim order and their attention. It certainly does help that the Blue Lion House isn’t as chaotic as a certain other, not to name any names.

Said house proves again to be more difficult to teach. Or tame. You didn’t have the courage to ask why they thought it was a good idea to see whose shoe would leave the darkest stain on Claude’s bedroom’s ceiling. Even days after their mischief students kept talking about how they have never seen Seteth this furious.

“Herald, please,” Hilda cries, tragically draped over the back of her chair, a maiden in bittersweet agony over her loss of free time. “It was all Claude’s fault.”

“Liars never prosper,” Claude calls from the far back of the room. He’s hunched over his papers, working vigorously on Seteth’s punishment. He ordered them to write hundred times I shall not throw footwear against any ceiling in the monastery. They’ve been at it for about twenty minutes and Claude’s quill hasn’t stopped its furious scratching against parchment at all.

“I won’t mess with Seteth,” you tell them and lean dangerously far back on your chair to place your feet on the teacher’s desk. “And you deserve it. Or do they not teach you proper manners in your noble homes?”

“Well, it’s not like anyone taught us not to do it,” Hilda chirps. You throw a glare her way and she quickly dugs her head and continues writing. Quills scratch on paper for about seven seconds before Hilda stops again.

“Herald,” she says. “What do you think about Lady Catherine’s Thunderbrand?”

You look up from your book titled Noticeable War Generals. Smile gone from her face, Hilda looks up at you with sharp curiosity. It’s eerily silent now, and a quick glance towards Claude shows he is listening as well.

Catherine’s Thunderbrand. Its sight is still burned into the back of your closed eyes: Golden ivory forged into a grotesque sword, a blood red Crest Stone in its middle that seemed to pulsate—as if it breathed. As if it was a living thing with a heart. You had simply stared at it in awe and thought What a mesmerising weapon.

“It’s … fascinating,” you manage. “A Hero’s Relic. There are more than just Thunderbrand, right?”

“Ten exist,” Claude calls from the back. “Bestowed by the goddess upon ten heroes, they are passed down to their descendants. House Riegan and House Goneril have one in their possession as well.”

“Then why don’t you use it?” You certainly wouldn’t miss a chance to own and wield a mighty weapon like that.

“Wield that?”Hilda shudders in disgust. “No thank you. It looks so weird, pulsating and moving like an insect.”

“And we’re way too inexperienced to use it in a real battle.” Claude puts his quill between his nose and upper lip and tries to hold it there. “They’re locked away anyway and hidden from those who might misuse their power.”

Claude has a point. Nonetheless, you’d gladly take a look at them. Maybe even hold one … Did the Herald own one as well? A special weapon only forged for the Herald. A slight shudder runs down your spine at the thought of using it in battle.

Ten minutes later, Claude jumps to his feet. He hurries towards you, slams his parchments on the table and leaves just as fast. “Bye Herald!”

“No way!” Hilda pales. “How is he so fast?”

You wonder as well and take a look at his papers. Instead of writing what Seteth has told them, Claude simply left poor drawings of their crime and promised with one sentence he wouldn’t do it again.

And we of House Riegan never break our promises, reads the last line.

You groan. Now it’s your turn to think about a good explanation to Seteth’s questions why you haven’t paid more attention.

Month three passed within the blink of an eye. Garland Moon brought the sweet smell of white roses to Garreg Mach, a tradition much anticipated by the students. Everywhere you went, garlands and gifts made of white roses were given to each other as a sign of friendship or budding love. Some found their way to your desk, though your admirers preferred to stay anonymous whereas Byleth was busy to stow them somewhere—not a day passed without her receiving something or a group of giggling students following her around.

“I really don’t know what to do with all those flowers,” she told you one day during a tea session, a deep frown on her face. “They wilt. Then I throw them away. It’s a waste.”

“Your students love it,” you replied but were glad not to be in her place.

Another good deed Garland Moon brought with it is longer days and shorter nights. Students lounged outside in their summer uniforms after class, enjoying those last warm days before raining season arrived with fierce gusts and heavy pouring, forcing them back inside where they spent their free time inside the library or the dining hall, playing little games to kill time.

For a change of pace, Byleth and Jeralt decided they’d hold a grilled fish dinner on every last day of each week and most of the invited either didn’t have the heart or the courage to tell them once every week was once every week too much.

Everything happened too fast after that. Rhea informed the teacher’s faculty and her Knights of Lord Lonato Gaspard’s planned rebellion against the church. With that, the mystery of why Seteth had demanded to speak with Ashe was solved; it also explained why he spent so much time inside the chapel, praying and wondering himself about his adoptive father’s reasoning.

“There is no question about it,” Rhea says in her cool, demanding voice once every teacher and Knight of Seiros gathered inside the War Room to discuss the matter. “We will send a troop to meet them halfway in Kingdom Territory. They will pay for mocking our goddess.”

“Allow me to lead the Knights, Lady Rhea,” Catherine says. Even now, you can’t take your eyes off Thunderbrand strapped on her back. “I know Gaspard and what he’s capable of.”

“We did not forget what you’ve done back when—” Seteth starts. Catherine silences him with one look, leaving no doubt she doesn’t wish to speak of it.

“And that is exactly why I have to go.”

Rhea nodded. “So be it. I know I leave this mission in your capable hands.”

“But why is he leading this rebellion?” you wonder. “I thought the Kingdom is strongly devoted to Seiros’ teachings.”

“Every flock has its black sheep,” Rhea says, sounding sad. “We will get our answers once we defeat and capture them.”

“What about the surrounding villages and those who support Gaspard’s rebellion but don’t fight?” Byleth asked. Until now, you haven’t really thought of those not directly involved in it, but she does make a good point.

Rhea squared her shoulders. “What about them?”

“They’re not directly involved but might try to get in our way.” Byleth glanced at the strategic map laid out before her. There is a way through the forest for your units to approach Lonato’s stronghold. Surrounding villages are marked with a red pin. They surround the forest in a loose circle, making an intrusion possible, though sending Knights of Seiros out to watch them and stop them could be quite easy—

“Everyone who supports this foolish rebellion should receive the rightful punishment,” Rhea says, her voice so cold it freezes your thoughts of how to make the villagers stay out of this. Your head snaps up as you stare at her. Byleth raises an eyebrow but remains silent just like everyone else. Something about that makes you shudder.

“But they’re civilians, right? If we can avoid having them interfere—”

“By joining Lonato Gaspard’s rebellion they pledge guilty to his cause.” Rhea looks up at you, scorn flashing briefly in her eyes. “I will not have them simply go if it opens the possibility for revenge one day.”

If you squinted really hard, there was reason behind her words. Still, your stomach turned at the thought of endangering civilians even though it could be prevented. Without any protests, that was the plan for the operation.

You sat this one out. There was much to prepare for the upcoming Rite of Rebirth, a ceremony when the Church of Seiros and its believers unite to pray for the return of the goddess. Even though you wouldn’t call yourself a believer—many find it strange that you remember the way of war but not the way of the Church as if you lived somewhere without Seiros’ teachings—your presence was of outmost importance as well. Though after you heard how the mission went, you really wished you had joined the Blue Lions fighting against Gaspard instead of sitting around and deciding which ceremonial robes fit better.

Loud voices drift through the closed door of a classroom, voices you immediately recognise belonging to Dimitri and Byleth.

“Are you insane?” You flinch back even though a heavy wooden door separates you from what is undoubtedly Dimitri’s wrath. “Those were civilians.”

A reply is lost, too quiet for you to hear, but whatever Byleth said, it wasn’t the right thing. A second later, Dimitri storms through the doors. The distress in his features stops you from asking what is wrong, a flash of betrayal lurking in his eyes seals your mouth shut. You look after him until he disappears around the corner, only slowly turning towards Byleth. She is propping herself up on the table, learning on her strong arms and staring at the opposite wall, her mouth a grim line—solid rock that stands against the raging waves summoned by Dimitri, her grip on the edge of the table hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

“Everything okay?” An unnecessary question answered by a simple shake of her head. You lean your hips against the table. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Byleth is silent. Only slowly, like a tight knot finally coming lose, the tension in her shoulders dissipates and she takes a long, deep breath.

“Dimitri told me about their mission. How they dealt with Lord Lonato’s revolt.” She finally steps away from the table and kneads the muscles in her shoulders. You imagine they’re hard like a rock. “They faced simple peasants who defended their Lord. Peasants who didn’t even know how to wield a sword without cutting their own thumbs off.”

“And Rhea made quite clear how to deal with them,” you finish, summoning unwanted imaginations about a gruesome butchery in your mind. Byleth nods.

“Dimitri asked for my advice,” she continues, her gaze drifting towards the door as if said young man might return like a bad haunting if his name is simply muttered. “If there was anything they could have done different. I told him there wasn’t.” She tears her eyes away from the door and fixes them on you. “I told him that is the way of war.”

She is right, a part of you insists. Such facts cannot be changed and claiming anything different is foolish, naive. Yet, something stirs, a tiny tiny voice, a feeling, that challenges that thought. A feeling you didn’t expect to be part of you.

“I don’t know about the details,” you say, shuffling from left to right, “but maybe it was avoidable. Lord Lonato must have known how his subjects felt about it. He didn’t need to involve them.”

“I think they joined on their own. The students gave them a chance to lay down their weapons.”

“Still—”

“Still they decided to follow their foolish Lord,” a voice from the door joins, cold and imperious, chilling you to the bone. Rhea enters the War Room, her expression void of any warmth or kindness. “There is no place for doubt. We must punish any sinner who may inflict harm upon believers, even if those sinners are civilians.”

“And you think to have the students punish them is right?” Byleth asks, earning a sharp glare from Rhea. She quickly, but somewhat begrudgingly adds, “Your Grace.”

“I have heard that some students struggled with completing the task,” Rhea acknowledges, doing her best to show how unaffected she is by Byleth’s criticism. “I pray they learnt a valuable lesson about the fate that awaits all who are foolish enough to point their blades towards the heavens.”

An icy shudder crawls up your spine, cold fingers tighten around your throat to keep you silent—a leash forged of obedience and intimidation, the mistress standing before you. It would be wise to keep your mouth shut, not draw unnecessary attention; keep your head low and nothing can slice it from your shoulders. But the words, burning hot on your tongue, demand freedom.

“Fearing the Church isn’t the same as respecting it.”

Something sharp flashes in Rhea’s eyes. “If fear is the only way to control them, then so be it. They are traitors to the holy teachings.”

“They are people. People with families.”

“People who would be wise to remember it was the progenitor god who gave them these lands and their life,” Rhea answers, growing impatient. She notices something in the way you look at her, for she takes a moment to collect herself by taking a deep breath. “I do not enjoy seeing those who wronged our holy teachings punished, Herald,” she continues, now much calmer. “But punish them we must before they hurt those who are dear to us.” Upon her last words, her eyes dart to Byleth, looking at her with so much fondness and care, a sting of jealousy in your chest forces you to avert your gaze to the ground. It isn’t the first time you notice Rhea’s palpable interest in Byleth’s wellbeing though no answer comes to mind why it is like that. If Byleth noticed the same, she doesn’t show it.

After that, the incident is quickly forgotten, making room for the new incident occupying everyone’s mind: an assassination plot on Rhea on the day of the Rite of Rebirth found in Lonato’s possession. You aren’t the only one wondering why he’d carry something like that around where it’s easy to find. Multiple theories go around, one more farfetched than the other. One particular makes sense, its source none other than sharp witted Claude who thinks this plot is a simple distraction for something much bigger.

“If security is focused on the Rite of Rebirth inside the Goddess’ Tower, pretty much anyone can simply stroll around the monastery and do who knows what,” he told you on the day Byleth and her class set out to discover what important places might become a target. Garreg Mach hides many secrets and treasures. Some of them even you are not allowed to see like relics passed down from archbishop to archbishop, guarded by the elite of the Knights of Seiros, tall and bulky men and women with grim mouths and determined eyes rooting them in place day and night in front of locked doors only Rhea knows what they hide.

With every passing day, tension hangs in the air like a thick blanket waiting to smother you all. But it isn’t simply the anticipation for whatever the Western Church has planned. It is also the holy ceremony of the Rite of Rebirth, one you’ve practised under the stern eyes of Seteth who doesn’t settle for anything less than perfect. Every word, every step is engraved in your mind.

On the day of the Rite of Rebirth the sun relentlessly blazes down at the monastery. Your ceremonial robes are heavy and woven from thick jacquard fabric lined with fine golden patterns that depict the Herald’s Crest on the back. You’ve barely finished preparing everything inside the round chamber inside the Goddess’ Tower but perspiration glues your hair to your forehead.

A whole feast is prepared; food offerings and gifts from the townsfolk and priests served on golden and silver plates on long tables covered with white table clothes. In the middle Seteth prepared a small platform for Rhea to stand and speak in honour of the goddess that she may return to Fódlan and show its people her infinite grace. In short, you’d do anything to join the students who are securing the locations lacking in defence right now instead of standing around and waving at pilgrims. The only joy lies in Flayn’s bright presence and her never ending optimism. She’s a sweet girl and has been looking forward to the ceremony since the beginning of Blue Sea Moon. Looking upon her, it is hard not to catch her excitement and joy when the ceremony finally begins.

Because of certain circumstances you couldn’t quite follow, the holy relic used for the ceremony, the Chalice of Beginnings, has been missing for a long time. Because of that, a mock chalice was prepared by the cardinals, a handful of high authority men and women who make it no secret they can’t quite decide if they like or dislike you and your position.

“You must excuse them,” one of the cardinals says after a group of them simply shook their heads at you happily scooping tons of food on a plate. His dark hair falls to his shoulders and unlike the other cardinals, his brown eyes are filled with kindness. “They simply think in old patterns and value their old traditions. You are quite young, Herald. They don’t know how to handle that.”

“But you do?” you wonder and notice too late how unfriendly that sounds. But he simply laughs.

“I do frequent with young folk, yes,” he says. “They are my flock and I will do anything to protect them.”

“That again, Aelfric?” Catherine joins you and slaps his shoulder just when he was about to drink from his cup. You pretend the pastries on your plate are far more interesting than watching him choke on wine. “You’re way too good for them, you know?”

“Who is ‘them?’” you ask but Catherine just sways her hand as if he wants to get rid of a nasty fly.

“Unimportant. You did a good job carrying the chalice to the podium.”

“I did almost trip over these.” You pluck at the heavy robes, already looking forward to getting out of them.

Catherine laughs but it is short lived. Out of nowhere, a knight hurriedly approaches and leans over to her, muttering, “They are after the tomb of Saint Seiros.”

Glass shatters as her grip tightens around the fragile stem but without so much as noticing it she storms towards Rhea, fury blazing in her eyes. Something happened. Something far more exciting than playing a believer in front of everyone, so you follow her to listen in more.

“Those dastards from the Western Church infiltrated the Holy Mausoleum,” she says. Rhea pales. “I will take some knights and go there at once.”

“Go and be swift, Catherine.” Rhea’s words are barely a puff of breath, those news shaking her but she remains stoic in front of everyone to prevent panic. Her voice drops dangerously low. “Punish those heathens.”

Catherine’s head dips in a slight bow. “I will, Your Grace.”

“I want to help too.”

Both turn around at your voice. Catherine narrows her eyes to sharp slits, but it is Rhea who says, “No. I need you here for the ceremony, Herald.”

“Please, let me,” you beg. Something inside you demands to follow, demands to see what is inside the Holy Mausoleum that causes so much bloodshed. “I can’t explain, but I need to be there.”

Rhea presses her lips into a thin line. Before she reopens her mouth to decline your wish, you whirl around and leave the ceremony room, Catherine in hot pursuit. You manage halfway down the hallway before she reaches you and grabs your arm hard.

“Even though you are the Herald, I won’t allow you to show this disrespect towards Her Grace,” she snarls. “If she tells you to stay, you listen.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” you say, trying to free your arm from her bone breaking grip. “But something calls me to this place and I need to follow it.”

Catherine isn’t pleased but she knows better than do you any real harm. With a crude nod, she allows you to follow. Several knights wait for you and together you make your way through the warm evening air towards the Holy Mausoleum that lies behind the chapel.

You enter right before chaos erupts. At the end of the hall, its ceiling so high up it’s barely visible in the dark, Byleth stands tall and rises a sword that flashes in a bright red light. A throb goes through your body and brings you to your knees. It feels like an arrow drove into your chest, the stinging pain unlike anything you’ve felt before—no, it’s a pain you haven’t felt since the Crest appeared on your eye for the first time. And then that thrumming energy within you exploded, a sharp crimson that drenched every corner of your right vision, rushing through your veins.

“Kill them!” an enemy mage commands, fury fuelling him to a last desperate attack. With his remaining companions, they summon a giant fire spell you’ve only read about in books, a combination of spells into a group flame that covers a large area—the pre-stage to a much more fatal blaze that can scorch the land. Blaze or no, the effect watching the giant fire ball curling and sparking until it grows large enough to wipe out anything in its way is the same. Fear paralyses your body. Move, your mind screams, but you can’t. Your muscles have locked up; a high whine of terror fills your head and fizzes in your blood like poison, yet you do not understand where this fear of fire comes from.

“Take cover!” Catherine roars but it is too late. The blast hits the ground right before you, dispersing your small group of reinforcements like wind scattering leaves in all directions. A loud crack beneath you makes your heart skip a beat, a rumble shakes the hall and before you can fully comprehend what is happening, the ground gives way.

The last thing you hear is Byleth shouting, not Herald, but your name before you plunge into darkness.

Wake up.

You have to wake up.

This darkness is terrifying, so utterly black and choking, curling around you like a tight fist. Like someone is holding you in their dirty, tainted clutches, smelling of death and horror. Wake up, you tell yourself, more urgent now, your mind struggling to escape from claws digging into your consciousness, their goal unknown but you don’t want to stay here to find out what they are after. What they want to take from you.

Wake up, this time another voice, the voice, echoing like a sweet bell’s chime, the flicker of light in a darkness so black it hums. You have to wake up.

Your eyes snap open, the sudden white ceiling hurting like a sudden flash of light. Once you’re used to the brightness, you realise this isn’t a room, this is … this is your consciousness—no walls, no windows. It’s just a space, and yet you can clearly determine borders. Somewhere is an exit you’re free to use, nothing holds you captive. It’s your safe place. Your haven. Which doesn’t explain how you’ve gotten here.

All you know is it feels safe. It feels like a warm embrace, the feeling of hope, watching a budding flower embraced by soft, fragile hands—asteritrope, your mind provides out of nowhere, the flower always turning its head towards the Blue Star.

It is like breaking a spell. First, everything is simply white, empty, a second later, you stand in a vast field of asteritropes, an ocean of purple, gently swaying flowers at your feet. Everything smells of sweet innocence, of honey dipped fingers and bittersweet regret. It is a familiar scent, one your body remembers and reacts to with a shudder so strong it rattles deep in your bones; a chill so cold it freezes you on the spot, the slightest movement threatening to shatter you entirely.

What is this grief, this sadness? Is it your own or have you fallen into a sea of tears wept by someone else? Your chest is heavy with a burden, a pulling towards the unknown that is yet so familiar. It is homesickness towards a place you have never been but long to visit.

The flowers shaped like little stars stretch beyond what you think are the edges of this place. If this is a dream, you don’t want to wake up anytime soon, relishing in this peace and quiet.

A peace and quiet that lasts only a moment until you notice it. Not it, him. In the middle of the field, a boy sits, bent over something that demands his complete attention. Dark curls fall against pale skin, his brows pulled tightly together as his fingers work something in his lap. He is wearing a simple white robe, though it is unlike any of the religious wear you've seen on the priests and nuns; it seem ... too old for that. Only after you approach, you see he is folding purple flowers and green steams into a crown.

“Hello?” you say, only now entertaining the idea you might have died and this is the afterlife, the first point before returning to the goddess’ side. It is a strangely tranquil thought. “Can you hear me?”

The boy’s head snaps up, his eyes wide as he momentarily forgets his work, and you take a step back, struck by how bright his steel grey eyes are. They roam over you, up and down, back up again, as he slowly raises to his feet.

“You’re here,” he says, awestruck. “You’re finally here. It is so nice to meet you after all this time.”

His voice is like a punch to your gut. You recognise it immediately, the voice who pulled you back from the darkness.

“You—” Nothing makes sense. “Who are you? What are you?”

“There is nothing to fear,” he says, offering you his hand. The tips of his fingers are purple from handling delicate petals. The crown lies at his bare feet, forgotten. He looks strangely vulnerable.

You take another step back, worry a steady, hard pulse against your neck. The air catches in your lungs. You feel like the ground is opening beneath your feet. “Are you … the goddess? A god?”

The boy blinks, then throws his head back and bursts out laughing, the sound like sweet bells chiming in the wind. “You people love to call everything you do not understand god.”

“Then what are you?” It comes out as a breath, and for a brief second you think it’s fear that seizes your body, but no. You should be afraid and yet instead of frenzy panic there is a calm spreading inside you as if you belong here. You can’t say if it’s the boy’s presence or the familiar scent of wildflowers.

The boy leans his head to the side, his smile as vibrant as early sunlight casting away leftover shadows from a dark night. “Hmmm … the End, perhaps? Or why not just … a friend?”

“The end? My end?”

“No, the end is never simply the end,” he says, shaking his head.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“It may be a rebirth,” he continues. “Or the passing into a new era. Into a new dawn.”

“A new dawn,” you mumble. The realisation makes your knees weak. “Don’t tell me—” You suck in a sharp breath, unable to belief where your thoughts are hurling towards in lightning speed. You kneel onto the soft flowerbed, careful not to crush any flowers. “Why are we here … do you know me by chance?”

“I … cannot say for sure,” he starts slowly, uncertainty turning his features even younger. “I have been watching you since you awoke four moons ago. On that day, I as well awoke from a deep slumber. But I do not know why it is you that I am bound to.”

“Bound to?” Your head spins. “What do you mean?”

“You must have felt it by now, have you not? I am here because of this,” he says, and lifts his hand to point at your right eye. You flinch back as if he smacked you right across your face.

“So you are him,” you whisper, a shudder ripping through your body. “You’re the first Herald. You are Seiros’ Champion.”

The boy smiles.

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notchesandbullets · 4 years

Text

Ryokuryuu’s Lifeline

Part 7: The Trap

"Stay away from me!" You hissed venomously as he came closer to you. The officers had done exactly what you had expected them to do: they brought you directly to their boss.

The man everyone was after, Lord Yang Kum-ji of Awa.

They had tried to toy with you, but you refused to give in, fighting with everything you had at your disposal. Only Kum-ji hadn't been that interested in you at first, giving you the opportunity to attach a piece of green metallic cloth on the ship's flag, smirking as the lookout didn't check it and let the color fly. You had planned on staying silent, keeping your head down after you fulfilled what you promised Captain Gi-gan in your letter, but when he started tormenting the two girls across from you who were chained, you couldn't take it anymore. You shouldered your way in front of them, sheltering them behind your body.

You bared your teeth in a vicious snarl to ward him off but Kum-ji ignored your threatening displays. It was clear that he didn't recognize you, eyes light with greed and corrupted hunger, instead of being dark with vengeance.

It was best that you didn't provoke him or jog his memory, so you bowed your head and whimpered, attempting to appear pitiful.

Kum-ji sneered at you, "The pretty lamb doesn't want to play anymore? What happened to all your fire you had just a minute ago?" He taunted.

You didn't fake the flinch as your body reacted to his words, seemingly submitting to his display of power. Your breath came out shaky as you struggled to hold onto the slipping image of Jae-ha in your mind.

His soft green hair.

His vibrant lilac eyes.

The gentle smile that he reserved only for you.

You stiffened as he shackled your wrists behind your back and your feet together. Jae-ha would want you to fight against him. He would want you to come back to him. The lies of not being good enough to deserve his love faded into the background as you looked at it clearly for the first time.

You did deserve to be loved. You were loved.

"You're not getting away from me this time." He spat.

Ah, so he did remember you.

Well, that was unfortunate.

He would have a hell of a time trying to escape the wrath of your family.

Your family.

Kum-ji snickered, assuming that he had finally broken you when tears of anger blurred your vision.

But he couldn't. He couldn't even touch you. What you had probably put Jae-ha through hurt indefinitely more than his words ever could. You had to make it out alive to see him.

To beg for his forgiveness.

You bared your teeth ferociously and Kum-ji's eyes widened at your defiance.

You had stayed in that shadowy room for the whole day. He had ended up chaining you to the bedpost at one point because of how much you were trying to defend the obviously terrified girls by his feet. You used the moves Jae-ha and Captain Gi-gan taught you, breaking free of his hold countless times. He was growing quickly frustrated with you, enlisting the help of his men to keep you still while he taught you a lesson, roughly kicking your stomach until you couldn't lift yourself up anymore.

You knew you wouldn't win against them all, so you struck a bargain with him.

"Let them go, and I'll do whatever you want."

Yang Kum-ji's sadistic smile was less than satisfying, but you needed the girls out of the room and out of harm's way if you were to carry out the next part of your plan. You knew he liked submissive women, that he viewed them not as people, but rather things that needed to look pretty on an arm and not speak. It was clear that he was going to call them back once he was done with you.

You weren't going to give him the opportunity.

You stayed awake the entire day, well into the night, lashing out when he got too close to you, but he came back and struck you in the face with the back of his hand. Your face turned to the side under the force of his blow, spitting out blood. Your head was throbbing in pain, and your right eye threatened to shut under the swelling, bruises forming around it.

You made sure not to intake anything he tried to force you down your throat, knowing it was most likely either drugged or poisoned, but your body was bearing the consequences as you felt exhaustion weigh down your limbs. You weren't used to the lack of food and water, and it was shutting your functions down.

"Throw her in with the others!" He commanded, fed up with your games.

A minute later, you were blindfolded and thrown below deck. You could smell the seawater and feel the slime of seaweed slicked on the floor once they tossed you down.

It wasn't all quiet once they left. You could hear the girls' panicked whispers rise to terrified shouts as one of them started banging on the locked door.

"It's impossible," An unfamiliar voice cut through the atmosphere, silencing everyone. "I was put in here two weeks ago. Nobody came to get me out. To Lord Kum-ji, we're no different than objects."

She sounded defeated... hopeless...

You had to do something. You wriggled into a sitting position, iron cuffs clinking together as you tried to prop yourself up as best as you could with the restrictions.

"Haven't you ever," You stopped struggling, ears straining to hear more as you questioned if you heard right. "... wanted to change this town?"

Yona!

That meant Yoon was here, too...

"Yoon..." You mumbled softly, and within a second your blindfold was tugged off, revealing a battered but relieved genius pretty boy.

"Y/N!" He shuffled behind you, trying to pry off your cuffs, but stopped when you winced in pain.

"Ah..." You hissed, and Yoon pulled back in alarm. "It's fine, just leave it."

Your arms were cuffed behind you, but you scooted backward, bringing your hands underneath your hips and around your ankles so that they were now in front of you.

"Are you hurt?" Your eyes scanned over Yoon's shaking form. Yona was whispering words of inspiration to the disheartened girls, encouraging them to reach out a hand back if someone reaches out theirs to help them. He shook his head and you felt relieved.

"What she's saying it's true," You supported Yona's indirect claim of aligning with the pirates, who unbeknownst to them, were making their way to the ships right then and there. "We're going to escape and we're going to rescue you all. Will you let us?"

Their eyes shimmered with forbidden hope.

"Yoon," You mumbled, and he leaned forwards, straining to hear you. "Where's the firework?"

"In my sash," Came the quiet reply, "It's small but it'll shoot high."

You nodded, now informed. "We've got to get on deck." You mused. "I'll clear a path for you."

Yona and Yoon's eyes widened. It was dimly lit in the cargo hold, but they could still make out the many injuries on your face, blood dripping down from your forehead and Yoon noticed how you kept your arms pressed to your stomach, as if to alleviate the pain.

Together, you tricked one of the guards to come down by banging your restraints against each other, and he clambered down to investigate the noise. Yoon shot a tranquilizer dart at him halfway down, and Yona yanked at the rope by his feet, causing the guard to lose his footing and knock his head against the steps.

Your eyes widened as you heard the sound of cries ringing faintly through the air and swords clashing together.

The battle's started.

"Yoon, we've got to hurry!" You hissed.

"I'll help too." The girl who had seemed so desolate and hopeless before was standing with determination. "My father was a ship's carpenter, I know the layout."

Yona beamed at her offer and she introduced herself as Yuri. Quickly you all made your way out of the ship's cargo hold as silently as you could, not wanting to attract any attention this late into the plan. There were two guards near the entrance leading up to the deck and you gestured for the three of them to hide behind you.

"I'll get their attention, run past them when you have an opening." You instructed firmly. Yona began to protest, voice cracking with anguish at having to leave you behind again, but stopped when she felt your hand resting on your head. "Send up the flare. The girls are our first priority."

Yuri looked between you and Yona, noting the reluctance the red-haired girl had at the idea of parting with you. "I'll help her."

You gave her a nod of thanks, turning swiftly back to Yoon and Yona beside you. "Go. Keep each other safe."

Yoon nodded, pulling Yona behind him to hide behind some crates as they waited for you to make the first move. "Yuri, stay behind me. Do your best to not get captured, that's more important than anything else, understand?"

She dipped her head in understanding, surprised at the turn you took from gentle older sister to merciless battle tactician.

You stepped out into the guards' line of sight, waving at them seductively, eyes hooded. They shouted as they saw you, and you led them towards the back of the ship. Yuri was hidden in the shadows, and you saw Yona and Yoon dart out from their hiding place, effectively making it onto the deck as the guards were distracted by you.

You sidestepped their sloppy attacks easily, enlisting the aid of the swaying ship to time it perfectly. As it swayed to the side abruptly, they became unbalanced and you saw your chance. Lunging at them, you tackled the first one, causing his sword to slide out of sight. The second one didn't get much farther as Yuri hit him over the head, knocking him out. You gave her a subtle glance of approval.

You heard whistling as the firework was launched into the air.

"Go back below deck, free and then gather up the rest of the girls. There will be a lot of shouting above you, don't come out until it dies down, okay?" You ordered, urging her back down.

She hastily nodded and you sprinted towards the hatch, bursting out onto the deck, gagging at the think stench of blood in the air. You saw a flash of crimson hair from the right and your body filled with dread as your eyes landed on the sight in front of you.

Yoon was tied up and getting beaten by a bunch of mercenaries, and Yona was shooting anyone who came close to him with a bow and arrow.

You ignored the question of how she obtained that, opting to kick aside one of the guards attempting to sneak up on her instead of asking how she managed to get her hands on a weapon. The others turned their attention towards you and you grinned, but then you remembered your hands and feet were still chained together.

Time to have some fun then...

You pushed Yona to the side as one of them went to grab her by the hair, effectively grabbing you instead. You snarled, wrapping your cuffed hands around the back of his neck, bringing it down as your knee came up to smash into his chin.

"K-Kill her!" Came the shaky order as he looked at his comrade who laid in a pool of his own blood.

Your tongue grazed over your teeth lightly, poking out of your parted lips that were curled in a confident smirk.

Their numbers quickly overwhelmed you, and you crashed into the floor, face shoved roughly against the wood. You resigned, closed your eyes and accepted your fate.

I 'm sorry, Jae-ha...

Then, wind whipped around you as a familiar set of robes fluttered in front of you, emerald green hair darting into view.

The mercenaries cried out fearfully. "W-Who are you?!"

"I'm the pirate who has submerged countless ships... the pirate who dances through the skies. But more importantly," Violet eyes glinted dangerously, "You had better not approach me recklessly."

Jae-ha growled, "I'll kill you."

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therealkatekane · 4 years

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My Journey through Yuri, Part II

So, to be fair, this is the first anime that kicked off my midlife discovery of anime. And while Symphogear holds the top spot in my heart, Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid is a very, very close second. Symphogear fulfills my need for warm fluffy fuzzies and adventure. Valkyrie fulfills my need for... everything else: lesbians, sex, lesbian sex, humor, over-the-top-ridiculous premises, zero male characters, and just... literally everything. If Symphogear is comfort food, then Valkyrie is my favorite meal that is hella bad for me, but I just don’t care.

I don’t even remember how I stumbled onto this anime, but I thank the fucking gods that I did. I found it, watched the entire series one night, and again the next two nights with the girls. Also, thanks to this show, Diana taught me two important anime terms: ecchi and oppai. We’ll start here:

And so it begins...

Let me start here: you best be grown for this post. And you best be grown if you’re watching this show because damn they is a lot of sex.

The whole premise of this show is that girls infected with the Arm Virus are quarantined on islands away from the rest of the world. Infected girls can be either Extars or Liberators. Extars transform into weapons (”Arms”) that Liberators use or “drive.” And in order to transform, Extars must be sexually stimulated by a compatible Liberator. Yup.

I was actually concerned at first because I thought this setup had a lot of potential to have all the attitudes and ideas I find super squicky in anime (and in media in general): questionable consent, objectification, toxic relationships, etc. But I was pleasantly surprised that consent is actually addressed really well in the series, and overall, I thought it handled excellently so I wasn’t squicked out at all.

So, onto the characters:

Above you see our two main characters: Mamori, the red head, is an Extar. The blond, Mirei, is a Liberator. And as is seen above, they were meant for each other. That being said, bless Mirei and her heart of gold, because Mamori is real simple. If I have one complaint about this show, it’s that Mamori is that annoyingly innocent and oblivious and simple protagonist. You know the one. She’s that dog you have that can’t figure out how to push open a door with its nose even though it’s already mostly open anyway and whines until you get up and cross the room and push it open the remaining three inches so she can come in. Lord love her, she’s adorable and sweet, but just... not bright.

But Mirei is phenomenal. Despite Mamori’s obliviousness, Mirei is immediately staunchly devoted to her. All she wants to do is protect Mamori. She is tall and mysterious and proves to be a badass fighter in her first thirty seconds on screen. You can’t help but fall in love with her strength and stubbornness. And I’m a sucker for the strong but silent and awkward types.

What I like best about their relationship is how Mirei automatically does whatever she thinks is in Mamori’s best interests or aligns with her desires from word one. She sees Mamori under attack, she places herself between her and her attacker. Mamori complains about a character being cruel to another, Mirei moves to put a stop to it. Mamori asks Mirei not to hurt some one, so she doesn’t. I’m not a big fan of “love at first sight” type shit, but I can’t help but just fucking adore Mirei’s instant devotion to Mamori. Not just her, but to her thoughts and feelings.

Next up, we have the dynamic duo referred to as “Lady Lady.”

Oh, I cannot say enough about these two. Lady Rain and Lady J. Both are both Liberators and Extars, able to switch between roles as the situation dictates. SWITCH, get it?? One transforms into a sword/gun and the other a badass motorcycle. They claim it isn’t the sex that allows them transform but the strength of their bond. It’s actually quite beautiful how dedicated they are to one another. Former members of a paramilitary government organization, they chose exile and quarantine over being tools of others.

Next up, we’ve got Meifon. Meifon is a schemer obsessed with making a buck. What I adore about her is that she is an asexual/aromantic character. On an island where everyone is fucking everyone all the time. It is such an interesting idea of how someone who doesn’t experience sexual arousal/stimulation in a “typical” way functions on an island where sex is so highly prioritized. It was a really neat idea that I was surprised to see the show tackle. While it isn’t addressed in a super deep or meaningful way, it is an unexpected and nice touch.

The “Governor.” Normally, I am all about avoiding spoilers, but I was surprised that we were supposed to think the governor is a dude. I know sometimes it can be hard to tell in anime, and I am guilty of more than once being like “What a super hot lady!” and it ended up being a fella and cue disappointment. But Akira was clearly a woman from the first time we see her. It wasn’t until the fourth episode that I learned she was supposed to be a “man.” She is so clearly a lady. If you can’t figure that out in ten seconds, you’re as simple as Mamori, bless your heart.

I feel it’s a missed opportunity for Akira not to be trans, but she’s not. She’s just pretending to be a fella for power, to stand out on an island full of women. It would have been a lot more interesting and compelling in my humble opinion. But whatever.

I could go on and on about all the many fantastic characters on this show, but there are a few other things I want to talk about.

1. I usually prefer the original Japanese voice actors, but this is one of the rare times when the opposite is true. The English voice acting is on point, very well acted, and an utter delight. Mirei in particular has a fantastic dead-pan delivery that I adore.

2. This show is hysterically funny. I laughed so hard so many times. Especially during the episode “Giant Girl, Little Heart.” I mean... just look at this:

The giant girl’s name is Nimi Minimi. I can’t even. Dear god. It’s so funny. I have a great appreciation for anything that can make me laugh. There are a lot of jokes about pitching and catching. And this is an actual quote from this episode: “Nimi, you’re the only one who can catch my fastball. Only you can catch my body and soul!” It’s classic.

3. The power and relationship dynamics are very interesting. Poly seems to be a pretty readily accepted practice. Platonic “driving” seems to be a thing. Consent is approached several different ways, and each is very interesting. Another thing this show does well is examine the problems inherent in such a system. It isn’t all girls kissing girls and touchy touchy fun times. There is a lot included on how that power can be abused and what corruption may look like in a hyper-sexualized state. So, maybe trigger warning? I’m pretty sensitive, but I did not find it trigger-y. It was actually nice to see such abuse of power highlighted as abuse without a veiled attempt to make it okay because it’s sexy times between two (or more) women.

4. Story/plot/etc - I’ll be real. The bar was really low when I initially started this. I mean, I didn’t expect much given the premise, but ended up being very pleasantly surprised. The story is reasonably compelling and more thought out than expected. There are more complexities than I anticipated, and it all wraps up neatly at the end of the series in a satisfying way.

So, I guess that wraps up Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid. Conclusion: Watch it. It’s beautifully NSFW and unashamedly queer. There needs to be more anime like it. I think next I’ll write about Flip Flappers as it was recommended to me on my last post, and it currently holds the number three spot in my heart.

Today marks the fourth week of working from home, so please please please keep the recommendations coming. I have literally nothing to do but work and watch anime, and I’m super grateful for the recs I received already. Thanks. :-)

#valkyrie drive #mirei shikishima #mamori x mirei #yuri #anime #mamori tokonome #lesbians everywhere #i am shameless about how much i love this show

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khunfounded · 4 years

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No Sleep Only Song Analysis

My wonderful ravens, crows, and jacanas, I apologise that most of my song analyses are khunbam (they’re my comfort ship) but feel free to send me requests for other characters and ships!

Analysis is my guilty pleasure. My chonky paper on the political implications of the religious allegory in The Grapes of Wrath can attest to that, so really you’d be doing me a favor!

Segue successful, my favorite part of Khun and Bam’s relationship is how much of a lone wolf Khun was before he met Bam. And then he found Bam (even though his last attempt at a meaningful human relationship sucked) and was like I am staying with him Forever.

So a song that fits this shift to an absolute T is I Was an Island by John-Allison Weiss.

youtube

Tuck your feathers in and get comfy birdies, let’s go!

I was an island Before you came along Put your boat in my sand Your hand in my hand Your heart in my songs

Before Bam came along, Khun defined himself by his independence. His childhood in the Khun family forced him to grow up fast and become an adult as soon as possible. Relying on others for help is not acceptable.

But when he met Bam all that changed. Bam has always allowed himself to rely on other people and admit when he needs it. Hell, the entire reason he even got into the tower was because Yuri lent him the Black March. But even so, he has an inner strength that Khun was able to see.

That’s part of why Khun was so fascinated by Bam. Oftentimes their attitudes are completely juxtaposed, and the way Bam goes about things goes completely against everything Khun was taught to believe.

Bam has a ginormous heart, and he let Khun into it. He came onto Khun’s shore when everyone else was blocked by the swirling tsunamis Khun placed around it.

I was a fighter And I was so brave But I lowered my sword When you held me and swore You'd stay, stay, stay oh

One of my favorite segments is when Khun discusses what he did with jewels as a child. He grew up in a horrible environment and he had to secret away the few things he allowed himself to care about that he ended up losing them, too.

He always had to have his sword up in order to survive in the Khun family, but Bam showed him an open palm, instead of a fist. Something which might quite possibly have been the first time that happened.

And when Bam decides you are his precious friend, he keeps you with him as close as possible. He was alone for so long, and he wants to keep making these happy moments forever.

He holds Khun close and kept him, even when that meant hiding his identity to protect him or going against a giant terrorist organization to be with him again.

For the first time in Khun’s life, someone stayed.

I can't do this alone anymore Cause I'm no good on my own anymore What did I do to deserve this? What did you do to me? Baby, come back You know I don't want to be free

This is the chorus of the song and it very bluntly puts how Khun feels. He doesn’t just want to climb the tower anymore, he wants to climb the tower with Bam.

We all saw what Khun was like when he thought Bam was dead. He isolated himself from his friends and spent 5 entire years of his life trying to make a dead man’s wish come true and avenge his death. If Bam didn’t come back, he would have spent even longer, as long as necessary, to complete it. He isn’t really himself without Bam, anymore.

So Khun laments this by asking what he did for this to happen. What did he do to have his defenses broken so thoroughly and his heart ripped directly from his grasp?

The last two lines remind me completely of when Khun tells Bam, “When I look at you sometimes, it worries me that, you would just wander off and leave us someday. So at least, tell us when you go somewhere. So that I can chase anytime.“

He doesn’t want to be free from Bam’s influence, he knows what it’s like without it and that is a freedom he would never desire. I was a rebel, but I had a cause 'Til you came to town Pushed me around And showed me what love was

Khun was the rebel of his family. He staged an elaborate plot so Maria could become a princess simply because he loved her, resulting in his expulsion from the Khuns.

Even before that, he was treated harshly by the family. Quite frankly, he was raised in a toxic and abusive environment. Instead of conforming to it, though, Khun used what he learned against them.

When the lyrics talk about Bam pushing him around, i take it to mean that Bam challenged his beliefs and made him realize that things can be different from how he was raised.

Both Bam and Khun learned about unconditional love and acceptance because of each other. They pushed against each others’ preconceived notions just by existing, and rather than causing a rift, it brought them closer together. I was a wolf, dear Apart from the pack But you answered my cry In the dead of the night And told me that you had my back, oh

Again, a reference to the Khun family, but it could also connect to how Khun removed himself from their found family after Bam’s supposed death.

Both times, Bam answered Khun’s cry and saved him from himself.

Khun is a man who watches his own back, but he doesn’t need to when Bam is around, because he knows that Bam will always do his best to protect him. I can't do this alone anymore Cause I'm no good on my own anymore What did I do to deserve this? What did you do to me? Baby, come back You know I don't want to be free

Khun doesn’t have to be alone anymore, Bam will make sure of that.

#khunbam #khun aguero agnis #25th bam #tower of god #tog #song analysis

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eldritch-elrics · 6 years

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MEMES 2018

happy 2019 everyone! let’s take a look back at the memes of 2018.

i decided at the start of the year to keep a running list of memes i saw. here it is!

disclaimers:

they’re in roughly chronological order but not always

some of these might not count as memes

some are probably from years other than 2018, but i noticed them in 2018

mostly tumblr memes but also some from youtube, etc

bolded are the ones that i found most important or prominent, at least in my sphere of the internet

anyway, on to the list

tide pods / forbidden snacks

mcdonalds alignment chart

connect four

un-tumblrized

ADAM!

do you know the way? / ugandan knuckles

fbi agent

knuckles dying

left exit off ramp

somebody toucha ma spaghet

shirtless kylo ren

it’s 2028

pop team epic characters

the return of cat no banana

boo boo the fool

google arts and culture

absolute unit

thinking face emoji, thonking

person at stall with coffee: change my mind

mii channel theme

steamed hams

that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth

green m&m message

upside down mcdonalds sign

gru’s plan

a song but every other beat

roblox death oof

but go off i guess

gay/bi/lesbian distinguished/functional/disaster alignment charts

russians blocked from tumblr

krusty krab vs chum bucket

globglogabgalab

you guys are just mean

we need a disney princess who x

american chopper argument

braver than a us marine

spongebob nopants

gay keyboard smashing

“mine” by bazzi

hand sanitizer vs 0.01% of germs

the ok sign (gottem)

“click to see a ghost” (it’s not a ghost)

god tier vriska

if you don’t love me at my x

zuckerberg trial

regular couple / yaoi couple / yuri couple

wallmart yodeler

press f to pay respects

todd howard’s wikipedia page

infinity war is the most ambitious crossover event in history

x dies in infinity war

gorls

john mulaney

you know what that is? growth

guy shooting other guy on couch (who killed hannibal)

floating boy chasing running boy

Дpyr

the baking a cake song from lazytown

t pose to assert dominance

is this a pigeon?

lesbians who like thor

bart hits homer with a chair

childish gambino - this is america

yanny/laurel

trumpet boy

person alarmed by powerpoint

i don’t feel so good…

miiverse (who thought it was even remotely okay to put this here)

scene from the good place where janet has a cactus

it’s free real estate

we live in a society

t hanos

chinken nunget

the dancing trickster god guy with the wacky glasses

lightning shapes

standing in lettuce

todd howard in general

ihob - the b stands for burgers

crow talks over smaller bird

despacito

we’ve updated our privacy policy

this is so sad alexa play despacito

big dick energy

human and robot from i robot talking

list of best x characters

fingers in his ass

*snap* yep. this one’s going in my cringe compilation

polite cat

slaps roof of car

let’s go lesbians!!

young thug on the computer

fucking superb you funky little x

characters react to you having a tapeworm

teleportation arg

howard the alien

small your dick

alternate responses to “i love you”

more alignment charts, most notably bitch/thot/bastard edgy/depressed/dumbass

elon musk

different communities shaking hands or fist bumping over a shared thing

favorite character bingo

energy sword sunday

thank the bus driver

gamecube

the comeback of minecraft

fortnite

rabies

asbestos becoming legal

pensive emoji

drake, where’s the door hole?

my two brain cells communicating

twink boutta pounce

kung pow penis

johnny johnny

can you cast obsidian

do yall hear sumn?..

x happened at claire’s

bowsette

responses to “i’d die for you”

manga/anime/netflix adaptation

moths and lamps

bongo cat

x do y challenge

wig

zendaya is meechee

adding lucky luciano to photos

presidential alert

the scp foundation

skyrim dialogue: hey, you’re finally awake

setting other songs to the party rock anthem video

weird flex but ok

youtube outage

can i copy your homework?

attention all fortnite gamers, john wick needs your help

tik tok (i wanna be tracer, hit or miss, why do good girls like bad guys)

let’s get this bread

super smash bros world of light trailer

what sort of pics usually get sent at 3 am? ;)

one taught me love, one taught me patience, one taught me pain

"x, can i have y to do z?” “to do z?” “yeeeees"

a human, a monster, a prince from the dark

pikachu :0 face

detective pikachu

have a seat please. i would like to discuss steven universe with you

chonk chart

i’m making fucking mac and cheese

they did surgery on a grape

fantasy art of a creature holding a sword out to another creature

imagine doing x (this post made by y)

no nut november

frankenstein is the creator not the monster

fallout 76

that’s my emotional support x

tumblr nsfw ban, female-presenting nipples

the death of fingers in his ass sunday

domino effect

big chungus

#memes #2018 #meme documentation #long post #my post

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sylphwriter · 6 years

Text

Killer Intent

Tales Whump Week

Day 1 Prompt: Wounds Warning: Violence and blood. I’m posting excerpts from my in progress work on rewriting my fic, Fairy Tales and Brave Vesperia. So anyone interested can enjoy a sneak peek at what to expect, but otherwise it should stand alone without familiarity with my work just fine.

Flynn’s door burst inwards with a splintering crack, smashing into the wall and shuddering as it sagged at a broken looking angle. Two gouges slanted across the door, marked by the force that had blown it in. Estellise shrieked at the sudden, violent intrusion.

Revealed beyond the door was a man with wildly bright red and yellow hair and a threatening presence. Feet placed wide apart and upper body slightly hunched over, his arms were still stretched out to the sides and restlessly turning the long, curved daggers in them over and over. Estellise couldn’t help but gasp at the fresh blood flicking from them with each movement. While the tough jerkin and the skintight black suit under it were too dark in color to tell for certain, they also bore spots that gleamed wetly in the light from the city’s barrier and the moon.

Lowering his arms to hang more loosely, but still spinning the daggers about his fingers and wrists by their circular handles, the intruder stalked forward into the room with a manic grin spreading as his eyes skipped over Estellise to fix on Yuri. “Prepare to fall victim to my blade,” he hissed, shoulders lowering into an even more hunched stance that mimicked a feral beast ready to lunge forward. One arm snapped out to the side and the dagger held in it shattered a water pitcher left next to a wash basin.

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” That Yuri could speak so calmly, sound unimpressed even, was almost as much of a shock to Estellise as the dawning realization of what this threatening man was.

Snarling a bit at the cavalier attitude, the man glared at Yuri. “I am Zagi. The man who will end your life,” he promised. He sprang forward, sawing a dagger through the air on level with Yuri’s throat. “Now die, Flynn Scifo!”

“Hey!” Kicking a foot up under the arm reaching out a blade towards him, Yuri’s boot landed firmly against the would be assassin’s chest fended him off. Shoving off, Yuri staggered his assailant and pushed himself back across the table. Grabbing the edge with a hand, Yuri swung his legs across the tabletop and back onto the floor with the table between them. He didn’t lose any more time in dragging the sheath off his own sword. “You’ve got the wrong guy!”

This was ignored. “Die!” Zagi’s legs bent and he sprang forward onto the table with the fluid ease of hunting cats. He dove right at Yuri again, slashing his arm across with the dagger held parallel to his outer arm, ready to rip into Yuri with the razor edge and protecting his own arm at once.

It clashed off Yuri’s own sword and he grunted, “You really should listen a little more!”

Zagi followed the motion of his arm in a fast spin, bringing the second arm and dagger across with even greater momentum and his full weight. Yuri grimaced and let himself fall to the ground, Zagi almost right on top of him. The floor was just the support Yuri needed to brace against to slam both feet into Zagi’s stomach and send him flying over and across the room.

Zagi twisted his body in the air and succeeded in not colliding with the wall headfirst. His leading shoulder and back still smacked against it hard, but he spun away from the stone and rolled his head to an unnerving angle as he leered at Yuri. “Yes… Remember my name well, Flynn!”

“Listen, I’m not Flynn!” Yuri insisted on trying to get it through this maniac’s head. He quickly rolled over and pushed himself up with one hand.

With a cackle the assassin lunged forward again. Damn he was fast! Yuri barely had time to read where those daggers would be and get his sword up in time. There was an instant when he could clearly see the unhinged gleam in Zagi’s eyes and rictus grin right before they vanished. A flash of light to his peripheral was all the warning Yuri had to dive away from, the light from outside giving away the dagger aiming for the side of his neck by pure chance. He got away with just a deep slice across his upper arm.

Zagi cackled. “Oh, what’s wrong?” he crooned mockingly. He swayed in place, holding off on resuming the attack to lift the dagger with Yuri’s blood on it before his eyes in fascination. Sticking out his tongue he drew it along the side of the blade, tasting it and the blood.

The sight sickened Yuri. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” This guy was so far gone he was on a level leagues worse than the worst scum preying in the lower quarter.

That dagger was directed to point at Yuri. “I’m gonna kill you and carve your name into my blood!” Zagi exulted.

Street scum were cute compared to this guy. “Yeah, that’s pretty disgusting.” This wasn’t a situation where he could aim to knock his opponent out and move on. The only way to deal with this psycho was to be prepared to kill him.

Zagi dashed in again head on, breaking to the side again when Yuri’s sword angled to block his charge. It didn’t work a second time, Yuri’s sword dipping back over his shoulder to catch and turn it aside. Not even slowing, Zagi circled to his other side with another spin and attacked with his other dagger from the opposite angle. Yuri’s fist rose and clocked him across the jaw, spinning him away instead.

Yuri pursued him, tossing his sword to his other hand and stabbing for Zagi’s chest. “Oh yeah,” Zagi moaned, “this is gonna be fun!” The crazed fighter didn’t even try to block it, driving back in close with both daggers leading, letting the edge of Yuri’s longer sword slide under his arm and right up against his ribs in a long cut. Too close; Yuri didn’t have the room or leverage to get the force to cut any deeper before those daggers would cut out his own neck. He had to snap out an arm to shove off Zagi’s shoulder and jump back, taking more cuts along his arm in the process.

The cut along Zagi’s ribs was bleeding freely, but if anything that seemed to excite him more. “Ahh, now I feel it.”

“You feel what?” Yuri asked, thinking that talking might buy a few extra seconds or distract this guy. “I’m not feeling anything over here.”

Zagi threw his head back and arms wide, laughing madly as he shouted, “That’s it! That’s it! Now I feel truly alive!” His eyes fixed on Yuri again, wide and white in the dark, and he looked even more focused. A split second and he flew from his off balance state of euphoria into another charge, little more than a blur Yuri could hardly track.

Taking a chance on it, Yuri used his blastia and sent an Azure Edge to meet Zagi. Unfortunately Zagi had no problem dodging to the side of the linear attack, leaping up onto a chair in the process. From there he pounced through the air, coming down on Yuri from above again. Yuri rolled forward and under Zagi, pivoting while still in a crouch to send another Azure Edge. It clipped the edge of the loop of strap hanging off the assassin’s shoulder but did no other damage to him. It was much more devastating to Flynn’s table though. A split cut halfway through it.

Estellise had been in shock as the implications of the blood on this person and his claims sank in. This was the assassin, and while Flynn wasn’t endangered for the time being, other people had been already. This very moment Flynn’s friend was in danger! “Yuri, let me help you!” She scrambled to retrieve the sword and buckler she’d set down by the door.

Did this girl want to get herself killed? “Stay out of this!” Yuri snapped, trying to keep up with the ferocious barrage.

“But-!” she hesitated.

The only warning she had was this Zagi person turning his disturbingly wide grin on her before he lashed out at her with a blade. Her lessons from Sir Drake came to good use; her thoughts scattered in shock for a fearful second but her body still moved as she’d been taught.

Her buckler lifted to catch the blade, angled to deflect it away rather than hold the brunt of the force and weight. And in return she thrust her own sword to damage or force her assailant back. Zagi’s second blade was already following up, and part of her thoughts caught up to the moment to realize; if he hadn’t avoided Yuri’s attack earlier in favor of trying to land a hit anyway then her own sword was not a reliable deterrent. She changed its course to intercept the second dagger, buckler and sword now both occupied keeping both daggers at bay.

For a second she was locked into place, staring into Zagi’s face. That twisted grin of bared teeth coupled with the feverish glare of his eyes, they horrifically reminded her of artist depictions of monsters said to be the most voluntarily turned to man eaters when given opportunity. Or the demons in old tales handed down to scare little children.

Zagi’s red eyes barely flickered away from her and then he was a flash of movement diving to the side. Yuri’s sword swished through the air where Zagi’s head had just been, and he took the assassin’s retreat as opportunity to place himself between Estelle and Zagi again.

Unable to spare the attention to take his eyes from the crazed lunatic cackling by the splintered table, Yuri turned his head only a fraction to call back to the girl behind him. “If things get out of hand, run for it.”

“I will,” she agreed, voice steady. He couldn’t help a slight grin of his own. For a noble she held up under that attack well. Just because he believed her when she said she could use that sword didn’t mean Yuri hadn’t expected her to faint or cry in a real fight.

“Oh, don’t give up so soon!” Zagi goaded them, “I haven’t had a fight like this in years!” With another mad laugh he added with evident relish, “This is fun!” He raised a hand and then smashed his dagger down across the damaged table, snapping it in half along the earlier cut. With a quick spin he snapped a leg out and kicked half the collapsing table at Yuri and the girl.

Smashing it out of the air with another Azure Edge was possible, but not worth the energy and the mess of flying debris it would make of the table. “Move!” he barked instead, breaking to the side. The noble did too without much delay.

But she went the other direction.

Split up now, it made the downside of this choice of action harder to deal with. Zagi would easily predict where they’d move and would be ready to pounce on one of them. Yuri had no worries he could handle that, but the assassin was lunging again for the noble girl who’d butt in on the fight.

The girl’s eyes flew wide in surprise and she fell back several steps in retreat. But she wasn’t running thoughtlessly; before Zagi got too close she drew on the blastia artfully incorporated into her elegant gloves. Aer fueled energy slid down her blade to coalesce into a glittering spark on the tip that, much like the Azure Edge taught among the Knights, she propelled straight ahead with a quick slash of her sword.

But like with Azure Edge, Zagi didn’t have much difficulty avoiding the oncoming Star Stroke. In point of fact, there was less speed and force behind it than Yuri’s own attacks. But for the moment Zagi was distracted.

Another Azure Edge connected with Zagi from the side, catching him right where he had swerved to avoid Estelle’s arte. He crashed and tumbled across the floor towards the broken door, jerkin and tight black under suit ripped and shredded up the side and arm. With no mind to the pain he should be feeling, the assassin sprang right back up and shook it off, feet already kicking off the floor to pounce right back in.

Yuri wasn’t about to give him that time. He rushed in to meet Zagi, hearing the chime of a blastia activating a spell and a whoosh behind him. Golden sparkling light enveloped Yuri’s sword just before it clashed against one of Zagi’s daggers again. The dagger chipped, cracked, and broke in two, Yuri’s sword cleaving right through. In the instant of shock before Zagi could reevaluate his style of attack, Yuri used his free arm to fend off the second dagger by bashing against Zagi’s forearm and angled his sword down to pierce through Zagi’s leg.

With a strangled cry Zagi dropped the broken dagger and directly grabbed Yuri’s blade with his own hand, adding more blood running down it as he yanked it back out. He twisted his other arm to try and saw down the length of Yuri’s guarding arm with the edge of the whole dagger. Yuri pulled away, but not before his own arm was opened with a deep cut from shoulder to elbow.

They both fell away from each other, holding their latest injuries. Yuri grit his teeth against the pain, it would get even worse once there wasn’t any adrenaline in the way. Now he wished he’d pocketed a few more of those gels earlier.

Well that hadn’t been the best trade off. But Yuri could fight with just one arm when the need came to it. And that bleeding hole in Zagi’s thigh was gonna slow the assassin down at last. Still had the feeling this wouldn’t be enough to deter the assassin’s crazed bloodlust though. Zagi was panting but between breaths he kept laughing insanely, muttering, “You’re strong, heh. Good, Flynn, you’re good…!”

“You’ve got the wrong guy,” Yuri almost shouted at him with frustration. “Aren’t you supposed to know this stuff?”

“He’s not Flynn!” Estellise tried to add in, but Zagi was already growling dismissal, “Details, details! Bring it!” He raised his remaining dagger and held his other hand up with fingers stiffened into claws.

“Flynn sure has made some interesting enemies,” Yuri muttered.

At that moment a shadow outside Flynn’s open door seemed to move and peel away. A new figure slipped into the room behind Zagi with unnatural silence, the long and heavy dark blue coat he wore made it difficult to tell his outline from the darkness of the hall. The hood was pulled up and further blurred the impression to just a humanoid shape. It also hid half of his face, although the way his jaw and lower nose were visible before abruptly becoming shadowed could be a sign of a black mask. One with red lenses fixed into it, glowing ominously in the barrier light through the window.

Most importantly, by Yuri’s judgement, was the kris styled knives fastened to the back of the newcomer’s gloves or wrists, sticking out past the long sleeves. Reinforcements. Now that he was looking for it, he could maybe see more shadows moving outside. Damn, hopefully the noble girl could find an opening to escape if Yuri could just draw them away from the door. He didn’t think she’d be very good at taking the window.

Instead of jumping into the fight and overwhelming them by sheer numbers, the red eyed intruder slunk up next to Zagi. “Zagi, we’re leaving,” he hissed with a harsh whisper. “The knights are onto us.”

Zagi’s face twisted into a silent snarl. His unarmed hand balled into a fist and blindly struck back, hitting his ally across the face. The red eyed one reeled at the blow before catching himself. His own snarl at Zagi looked all the more monstrous with the glowing red lenses and otherwise hidden face.

“Mind your own business!” Zagi’s rage abruptly reverted back to that manic glee as he cackled. “I’m just getting to the best part!”

The newcomer didn’t back off, standing his ground even with one hand pressing to his nose. Blood was dripping from it. “Hurry, before the knights get here. Or would you rather your fun end today?”

Rage filled Zagi’s face as he glared back at the hooded man. Yuri saw his grip on the remaining dagger tighten before Zagi turned on his good leg. The dagger swept an arc through the air and tore through the man’s throat. The girl gave a strangled shriek as with a gurgle the red eyed man grabbed for his neck helplessly, more blood running over his hands. Zagi didn’t stop there, pulling his dagger side to side in several more strokes before the unlucky bastard even dropped to his knees.

Yuri didn’t even try to stop him, backing away as far as he could and making sure the noble girl was safely behind him. A few more steps and they could be at the window.

Zagi stopped brutalizing the corpse, letting it fall forward on its face. In the stillness he straightened to full height for the first time, turning enough to look back at Yuri and the girl from over his shoulder. When he made direct eye contact with Yuri, Zagi gave the slightest smile, all the more eerie for its serene calm after the assassin had been anything but that this whole time.

Then he limped through the door, injured leg the barest drag on his pace. The shadows of other compatriots waiting outside all withdrew before he got in striking distance of them.

x x x

“That was the target, wasn’t it?” one of the Red Eyes faction whispered to another as they slipped silently through the halls of the castle to their marked departure point. They’d already set a distraction in place to draw patrols away from the spot. “Why didn’t we just finish him?”

“Shut up,” the other assassin hissed back. “If Zagi even thinks you’ll steal his prey from him, you’ll be the next one breathing through a new hole in your neck.”

“Then how do we know for sure that was the right one?”

The more experienced member reasoned, “It was Flynn Scifo’s room, who else could it have been?”

They glanced up ahead at Zagi’s back, waiting for a moment if the talented but volatile special agent would bother to answer. If he wasn’t off in his own headspace again, he should’ve heard everything they said.

An unpleasant giggle drifted back, not really a good indicator either way. But then Zagi said aloud, “Of course that man is our prey… Finally, a worthy fight!”

“Well there you go,” the veteran muttered to the newer member. “Must be Flynn Scifo.”

Up ahead Zagi had begun smiling to himself. What did it matter if that man was or was not Flynn Scifo? If Zagi crossed paths with him again, he would see if this wonderful reminder in his leg was only a fluke, or if he’d finally met a worthy match.

Nobody had faced him without fear in their eyes for a long time.

#taleswhumpweek #wounds #tales of vesperia #sylph writes #FTaBV #long post #violence #blood #I am freaking nervous about publicly sharing my work for the first time in forever

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