im in absolute shambles over This Update. the way he lets go of the headbands, but this time Big Leo was the calmer one. and the way Big Leo fades away in a way similar to the headbands has me in tears. waughhh
Whether that's a classic rescue or a rescue reversal, I'll leave that to you.
Put that Coward who Pretends He’s Tough in Danger Right Now!!!! I’ll forever be emotional that someone like him who bought into toxic masculinity and the idea that he needs to be completely independent and violent was the one saved by the golden-hearted, abuse-broken little girl. Although there’s plenty of canon situations to explore, I couldn’t help going with a medieval/witch-hunt twist for a little extra damsel-in-distress vibes :3
It is assumed that the church acts as the authority on evil. That the priests and acolytes dictate what is sacred and what has been sullied. One may think that Amane, the daughter of a witch now passed, would be the town’s expert on defending against the dark craft.
Such an assumption is wrong.
When the time came, the decision didn’t fall to her at all – it was taken up by the raging crowd in the square.
She should have seen the rumbling of unrest from the citizens, but it was easy to ignore from the peace inside the temple. When Fuuta told her of the jeering voices that followed him around, she reminded him to turn his thoughts inwards and upwards.
“You have nothing to fear, my disciple.” She smiled at him. “The voices of humans have no power in comparison to God’s.”
That, too, was wrong.
The cries of “devil” and “witch” rose deafeningly as a group of villagers barged through the door to grab Fuuta. They arrived in the middle of an evening prayer, causing the two to snap their heads up from a reverent kneel toward the altar.
Amane rose to her feet, ready to deliver a calming speech, but was not given the chance. The crowd shoved her aside to reach their target. Dozens of hands fell upon Fuuta, dragging him to his feet and out the door.
“You murderer!”
“To kill such a young girl…”
“With a witch’s wicked tongue!”
“Don’t deny it!”
Fuuta’s eyes whirled around the group. “W-wait, that’s not –! You don’t understand! Amane!”
She rushed forward. A stray elbow sent her stumbling into a pillar. There came a sharp pain in her head, then darkness.
She woke with an ache throbbing behind her eyes. She forced herself to ignore it as she ran out into the warm night air. Her robes billowed around her; she didn’t have time to redress. The thought repeated over and over, she needed to find Fuuta. That is, if it wasn’t already too late.
She’d already missed the makeshift trial and verdict, by the sound of the commotion outside of the courthouse. In her experience, witch trials could forgive as easily as they could condemn – no true evidence was needed either way. The townsfolk’s feelings toward the defendant, whether a loving mother or a loudmouthed apprentice, were all the proof they needed.
Amane made it to the throngs of people gathered at the entryway. Despite the bright, flickering glow from torches and lanterns raised overhead, she couldn’t see a thing. Her protests went unheard. She wasn’t able to shove her way through.
With her throat squeezing in panic, she took off back toward the temple. Her legs flew up the belltower’s ladder. She leaned out under the grand bell and finally got a good look at the situation.
Fuuta emerged from the courthouse doors. Blood and bruises painted his face. His clothes showed stains, and his right eye was swollen shut from the beating. Members of the crowd yanked him forward by the shackles around his neck and wrists. His lips snapped at those around him as he fought against the restraints, but it was clear the physical and emotional drain would soon overtake him.
Amane’s eyes followed the lines of the masses to Fuuta’s final destination. Citizens were tossing firewood into a grand pile. A single stake rose in the center.
A pang of rage stirred in her gut, overpowering her fear for a moment. The town was awfully prepared for a witch burning, now. Where was this efficiency when her mother’s magic drowned her? Where were the shouts of injustice when she brought lightning down from the heavens upon her daughter? Why was it up to Amane herself to silence her calls to the devil?
She pushed the thought away. Her eyes scanned over the view, seeking out anything that could help. To her dismay, not one citizen appeared inclined to stop the impending execution. The towering, torch-clad bodies didn’t show any weak points until reaching the execution platform. The nearest water pump stood on the neighboring street, too far to be of any use.
Fuuta was dragged on. Though not entirely silent, he hunched himself against the hateful rioting around him. A final tug sent him sprawling forward onto the cobblestone in front of the stake. The group took the opportunity to lift him up onto the firewood.
Amane was out of time.
She rushed back down the ladder. Following the paths she’d spotted from the belfry, she headed toward the stake. Again, she tried to raise her voice against the crowd and express some sort of authority in her white embroidered robes. Again, she went ignored. A sudden chorus of cheers chilled her blood. The fire had been lit.
“You bastards! You’ll all pay for this! You – you’ll fucking pay!”
Fuuta’s threats only became audible when she arrived, his voice hoarse and weak from the ordeal. She finally got a good look at him through the townsfolk. No matter the venom to his words, his expression betrayed his desperation. He released hysteric, rapid breaths as he struggled against the chains that had been wrapped haphazardly around him. They locked his limbs in place, leaving him no way to shy away from the flames licking closer.
Amane broke free of the crowd, to where everyone had given the fire a wide berth. Even from that distance, the heat felt sharp and suffocating. Fuuta was too preoccupied with the pain and panic to notice her presence, but at long last, the rioters did.
They watched her curiously as she spun back to face them. They didn’t appear hostile to her, but that was about to change. Amane swallowed hard.
“Oh, Wise One.” She bent her head away from God. “Forgive me.”
She lifted her palms. The townspeople really should have looked to the church for guidance. They should have treated her as the authority on witches. After all, her mother wasn’t the only one tainted with darkness.
A gust of air rushed through the square. The clouds churned. They blocked out the stars.
A wave of uncertain chatter rushed through the crowd. They watched as the wind picked up, causing Amane’s hair to encircle her head in a wispy halo. Thunder rolled as her clothes swirled up around her. With the sound of Fuuta’s pleads echoing in her ears, she brought her arms down.
What came tumbling out of the sky could hardly be considered rain. The curse brought water down in thick, choking streams. Fear echoed from the crowd as the onslaught crushed them from above.
Amane heard it sizzle on the firewood behind her, though she couldn’t enjoy the success. She forced air in and out of her lungs. The way the water spilled into her eyes and mouth was all too familiar to her. Through the rumble of thunder overhead, she swore she could hear her mother’s shrill cries.
The thunder crashed louder, this time bringing with it a flash of light. Screams erupted from the crowd as lightning blasted through a nearby roof. Another column struck a tree bordering the square. Debris whipped around the charged air.
Insults and accusations were indeed slung her way, but the chaos of the storm kept her safe from the citizen’s wrath. The weather raged until the final stragglers disappeared indoors.
Amane let her arms relax at her sides, the rain drizzling and calming in reply. She blinked. The power was intoxicating. Dizzying. The buzz of energy filled her again as she raised a finger toward Fuuta’s chains. They shattered.
He collapsed in a fit of coughing. The bottom of his legs were raw, but the rain had arrived before any serious damage was done.
“I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Amane secured her arm under his, dragging him out of the smoldering mess with a burst of strength that didn’t match her size. She eased him down onto the cool stone. With all the lanterns extinguished or entirely destroyed, the pair sat in darkness.
The haze of magic receded. Amane’s gaze lowered once more. At least God had known what she was long before today. It was all a shock to Fuuta. She’d saved him, but she knew the cost.
“I… I know what you must think of me. I know how you must be feeling. All I ask is you follow my direction a little longer so I can get you out of the city, and then –”
She inhaled sharply as Fuuta lunged forward. His arms gathered her up into a tight embrace. He smelled of blood and smoke, but she leaned into him just the same.
“Thank you,” his voice was rough and trembling. “Thank you…”
yes. ok listen i know that colors adjacent to these shouldnt be super hard to find but specifically these two wearingeul inks they dont sell anymore have captivated me in color and name TOGETHER ykwim. like i have a green ink i love. I've yet to find a pink that pleases me but this one does. I'd love to have both of these and write with em both cause look at them. flower and stem.
