#(in most of these flashbacks kyrie is somewhere between 14-17. she graduates the academy at 18)

[whumpdreaming]

Crownchain Hurtcember + Whumpcember Day 6

Behold, the first flashback chapter. Anything that mentions her being at the Academy is almost definitely in the past. Everything for this series so far can be found in my masterpost! To be honest I'm not super happy with this one but I'm going to refrain from overly heavy editing just to keep the ball rolling :)

Day 6: Touch Starved + "Please stop"

"..And that's the hold. I'm sure Kyrie will be willing to demonstrate?"

Kyrie looks up at Master Fen. He's waiting expectantly, looking at Kyrie, as if she hasn't "demonstrated" for the multiple past days in a row.

Hesitantly, she steps out of the line of acolytes, walking across the sand of the dueling arena, stepping in front of Master Fen, letting him turn her around.

In an instant, Kyrie's right arm is forced up into an awkward position, and Master Fen's arm is tight around her neck. Any attempt to move is met with harsh resistance. Again, she's met with the same feeling — she doesn't quite have the words for it, but..

It does hurt. It's also nice, faintly, to touch something warm. Maybe that's the most Kyrie can ever hope for.

"As you can see, the target is unable to get any leverage; now watch what happens when I take my other arm, and.."

Kyrie is forced down to the ground, her left arm held down by Master Fen's leg. It feels like her arm is about to snap with the pressue being placed on it, and she still can't breathe.

Kyrie is audibly choking. She can't see anything. Her head hurts. Master Fen continues lecturing, even as she continues struggling. She tries screaming, but barely anything comes out.

"Please — please — stop," she whispers, barely hearable.

Master Fen stops talking. "Excuse me? What did you just tell me?"

Kyrie knows better than to say it twice. She can feel the tears running down her cheeks.

Master Fen sighs. "You don't get to say those words." He doesn't relent. "You know the consequences. Everyone here does."

"I just — "

"Shut the fuck up, acolyte. Don't make this worse for yourself. That's fifty lashes for disobedience. Report to the preceptors immediately." He finally stops, letting Kyrie gasp for air, her throat dry and sore, grabbing her by the collar and tossing her forwards. She falls. He kicks her and barks at her again to get a move on. She can practically feel the gaze of the other acolytes, watching as she stumbles out of the grounds and towards her discipline.