#minorindech

[hresvelged]

undercover

@minorindech from here!

Oh no oh no oh no oh no-

Edelgard. The Edelgard. Future emperor and otherwise very intimidating and scary Edelgard. That Edelgard.

It had been horrifying enough to find out that the future ruler of the Empire would be attending school as Bernie's classmate. That she would see the failures of House Varley's heir right there, live and in person. That alone had been enough to make Bernie try another week in hiding after she had first poked her head out from her room to meet her classmates.

And now this. This. Bernie had no idea what was going on, only that now the two of them were ducked into a tiny crevice of the hallway. Bernadetta's back was flush against the wall. Edelgard did not even look at her, eyes off in the direction she had come from. One arm blocked her in, while with the other, Edelgard kept a finger pressed gently against Bernadetta's lips.

Huh? Wuh huh? Huh!?

She was going to die. Bernadetta was definitely, definitely going to die. Either here and now, or later when her father found out about this. How dare she stand so close to Edelgard? How dare she make her way into the other's personal space? How dare she have Edelgard's hands on her and look up at her pretty eyes and well kept hair and striking bone structure and oh her shampoo smelled kind of nice too, how dare Bernie notice that! Stupid dummy Bernie!

"U-um..." Bernadetta's voice was a high pitched whisper. Edelgard shot her a look. Bernadetta whimpered in response and quickly made her voice as soft and quiet as she could. "Uh, L-Lady Edelgard? I-I-Is something happening?"

Oh by the Goddess she wanted to die.

This monastery was filled with secrets- If she couldn’t get words from the source itself, the knights were a decent contender. As she peered forward amidst her steps, Edelgard caught a glimpse of two knights talking amongst themselves- Normally speaking, that wouldn’t be a cause for concern. Before she got within their vicinity, she heard all she needed to make her move. ‘Duties.’ ‘Treasures.’

She acted quickly, bringing her classmate alongside her. If Bernadetta or herself were to walk past them, surely they would move on in their conversation. Or worse, outright leave. With her finger atop Bernadetta’s lips, she turned and whispered, “Yes. Listen to them well, Bernadetta.” Their appearances were covered by armor, but their voices spoke volumes.

One spoke, “The Archbishop’s assigned me to keep an eye on the church’s treasure vault. There’s nothing of grave importance in there, but.. Well, I was sure someone else was already on guard duty.”

“Oh, it must be because of..--” His tone lowered, hissing as he said, “That. Should we take a walk around? You know, have a check on things.”

What is ‘that’? As they began to leave and left their direct earshot, the princess moved herself off of Bernadetta and stood upright. “It’s clear they’re trying to hide something.” Whether it be the words they might speak or a physical object, she needed to know. Perhaps it was imprudent to bring Bernadetta into it, but she had faith in her plan. “Would you join me? Your presence would be a valuable asset.” A pause, softening her tone in reassurance. “No harm will arise. I plan on maintaining a reasonable distance from them.”

#minorindech #( thread: undercover ) #( support: bernadetta ) #( i love bernie wah )

[songstriked]

sewn together

With the Ethereal Ball just around the corner, it’s high time that you start getting your ballroom attire in order. Naturally, wealthy students have long made it a tradition to visit nearby fabric shops with friends so that they can get a custom piece in time for the event. However, with more and more students of humble backgrounds attending, a few new shops have popped up recently selling ready-made outfits for everyone to try on.

It’s hardly a stretch for the songstress to become enthused over the Ethereal Ball- She sees it as the perfect opportunity to further secure her future and even wear a pretty dress and jewelry along the way! Dorothea had never been able to afford expensive sequined dresses, finding herself staring at them in passing when she was younger. Even now, those who flaunt such luxuries fail to realize reality.

Still, with the welcome sight of affordable wears, the songstress knows exactly how she’ll be spending her day. If she waits any longer, all the items she may want could get taken! Oh, that won’t do. A small clutch bag in her possessions swung itself over her shoulders, closing the door of her room with a gentle touch.

In her opinion, it’s much more fun if she’s with someone else. Whether it be getting a second opinion or just having someone to talk to, the thought stands. Starting to make her way towards the monastery’s entrance in the morning free from lectures, she passes the rather empty hallways and spots Bernadetta. How perfect! She thinks shopping together would be rather enjoyable.

Dorothea waves and speaks much like she always does. “Oh, Bern! Aren’t I lucky to find you! You see.. I had plans today, but I was thinking it would be much more fun if I had company. The Ethereal Ball will be here before we know it, so.. I want to be prepared.” With a smile, she wraps a hand around her tiny bag and adds, “Fun as it is shopping by myself, I think I’d have a better time if you were there with me! Besides, I’m sure you’ll look cute in anything you decide to try on! What do you say?”

@minorindech

#( thread: sewn together ) #minorindech #( support: bernadetta )

[flowerofgoneril]

Funeral Crashers

The funeral should be your first concern. The memorial of Abigail and her heir Basil von Marika will be a solemn affair, a good time to get to know the players of this succession crisis–Celine, Drayden, and Eren–along with the allies they’ve managed to rally to their sides. It’s expected, at bare minimum, that people will be reasonable at a funeral. Of course, tensions don’t simply cease to exist at the door. One hopeful’s less-than-subtle insult scorns their rival, and now all three are ready to make a hell of a scene. Will you step in? [Grants Authority +1]

Hilda notices the second he walks through the door to the church. It would be impossible. Holst Goneril is large, pink, imposing. Perfect. He's the Alliance's greatest general. Defeater of the undefeated. Fódlan's most embarrassing older brother. Blah blah blah. She can't imagine anyone taking the time to actually learn the entire list of his accomplishments save for their father so she hasn't bothered either.

Shit. She really should have seen this one coming. Of course he'd be here! Things have been peaceful at the border as far as he's told in his letters to her. It would be weird to not see a representative from House Goneril. If she had thought about it at all, Hilda could have prepared better. Maybe she would have worn a hat to try and hide her pink locks that have become such a symbol of her house. Even with the crowds sitting around her and Bernadetta, she knows she sticks out like a sore thumb.

Hilda cannot let her brother find out she's here. He'll want to talk to her and, goddess forbid, insist on meeting her classmates! In a moment of panic with no quick exit in sight, she does the only thing she can think of.

"Quick, Bernadetta! Hide!" Hilda's voice is an urgent whisper as she grabs poor Bernie by the hand and ducks underneath the pew she'd been previously sitting on.

@minorindech

#minorindech #| thread | funeral crashers #i am so sorry Bernie

[braveryinblue]

flocking hell

How many people does it take to herd a chicken out of a weapon room? The local training jocks are bearing new battle scars, trophies of having gotten past the Demon Hen of the Locker Room. She pecks at any and all intruders who step foot in her domain, and she has the strange ability to summon more chicken comrades to aid her cause. If you want access to the training hall anytime soon, you had better find a way to deal with this plumed menace. [ Grants Flying +1 ]

Unacceptable.

An academy full of students and staff trained in the art of war couldn’t deal with a single bloody bird?

Hector hadn’t been able to wrap his head around the absurdity of it all. Not until he’d stepped foot into the locker room himself, primed on having himself some chicken to eat for tonight’s dinner.

He understood now.

This was no chicken. This was... some demonic entity, perhaps a creature born of all the past chickens’ lives ended only to wind up on some fool noble’s plate. Hunkered down behind a rack of spears, Hector lay in wait. An anxious bead of sweat rolled down his face. The room was quiet... Too quiet. He could hear no clucking, no ruffling of feathers, no war cry.

He could only hear the loud thumping of his heart beating in his chest. Tightening his grip on his weapon, teeth clenched, he waited... waited... until he could wait no more. (Patience had never been his forte, not by a long shot.) Slowly, he peered about the corner and...

the Demon Hen stared right back, perched face to face with him, beady little eyes sizing him up. Oh, he was so dead. Shit. Fu-

then the door swung open.

Then the door swung shut, lock clicking into place anew.

(It had been broken a little bit ago, yet to be fixed. Just their luck.)

Hen and Hector both stared down the newcomer, blinking in surprise.

Then, a shriek! New target: acquired.

“Hit the deck!!”

starter for @minorindech

#minorindech #thread x flocking hell #+flying

[thyrosus]

[ Lift ] - For the photo, the sender boldly lifts the receiver up in their arms. Whether or not they can hold them long enough for the photo may be another story…

"No! No no no no no!"

This was awful. This was horrible. This was so much worse than Ferdinand. At least when it was Ferdinand, Bernadetta could get Dorothea to intervene and she could be left alone to her peaceful solitude.

What was supposed to be strong enough to stop a Lorenz!?

Bernadetta's heart beat loudly in her chest. "Absolutely not, no way, I don't wanna go out there and see people and. and."

If he caught her, he would drag her out where everyone could see. If he caught her, Bernie would be trapped among the ball's attendees and unable to escape. If he caught her, everyone would know what a failure Bernie was at being a noble, how unmarriageable and horrible she was, how-

Bernadetta saw an arm in her peripheral and panicked.

With a loud shriek, she grabbed on with both her hands as the familiar feeling of her crest flaring to life shot through her blood. Bernie grabbed on tight and spun and lifted with all the strength she could and threw Lorenz directly to the floor in front of the projectionist's booth.

She dropped him like he was on fire and quickly sprinted off as fast as she could, wailing.

BERNADETTA’S REPUTATION PRECEDES HER, although Lorenz admittedly knows very little other than conjecture. Bernadetta von Varley prefers the comforts of her own room to the company of others, a skittish thing whose presence at the Ethereal Ball at all is worth noting, in and of itself.

That is what convinces Lorenz he ought to take initiative and make introductions. Surely, her appearance at all means there is at least a passing interest—and he too remembers what it was like, years ago, being thrust into an endless sea of bodies without so much as guidance. He’d been thrown to the wolves, much younger and come out the other side able to lead the pack. If anyone could offer an arm for an anchor, it was him.

And, of course, gentleman he is, he considers himself in possession of a certain reserve of patience. Especially for his peers, especially for the ladies.

It might be tested, but he remains firm: “—I understand the hesitation,” he starts, sliding in a casual conversation as he bids another farewell and begins to make his way over to Bernadetta. “At the beginning of the night, I was sure this… contraption might simply combust in all of our faces! The likeness it captures cannot imitate a master’s hand, of course, but I do believe you will look back on this marvelous evening fondly, and be glad you have a small sliver of the night, captured forever! And, of course, I’d be honored to be the gentleman on your arm, guiding you through this night. My name is—”

She has hands on his arm before he realizes.

Bernadetta von Varley is many things, surely. In possession of a rather impressive force was not expected, but now likely ingrained in memory forever.

Lorenz is not quite sure what to make of the sudden sensation of being swept off his feet. Without anticipation, or so much as a moment to blink, or protest, or make some show of saving face, he is—hurled.

The sound that comes from Lorenz’s throat is undignified, a strangled sort of yelp as he lands in a heap of silk and feathers, staring up at the concerned expression of the photo-artifex’s keeper… for a moment.

In the next, he’s met with a much heavier weight, as its legs give out and the photo-artifex becomes well-acquainted with his face instead.

#❝ＨＭＭ， Ｉ ＤＯＮ＇Ｔ ＲＥＣＡＬＬ ＭＩＳＰＬＡＣＩＮＧ ＡＮＹＴＨＩＮＧ．❞ 【ｉｎｂｏｘ．】 #toaball2022 #minorindech #[ this is the BEST first meeting THANK YOU JKSDKFSD ]

[nappingscholar]

[ Adrestria ] - A court dance that has spread like wildfire through Fódlan ballrooms. This waltz is best known for a special move that calls for the partners to join hands, together forming the shape of a bird in flight.

Ethereal Ball asks

“Are you sure about this Bernadetta?” Linhardt asked with a surprised look on his face. For someone who normally was holed up in her room to ask for a dance... well it was odd. “Though I guess we’re in the same situation. My father would be pleased to hear that I at least danced with one girl,” he muttered to himself before taking her hands.

“I trust you remember the steps? My father would kill me if I ever forgot so just follow my lead if you can’t remember,”

#{ Without naps life is nothing but work IC } #{ You must understand how difficult it is for me to fight the demon of drowsiness Asks } #toaball2022 #Bernadetta support #minorindech

[arcstral]

[ Trip ] - While they dance, the sender trips the receiver over.

"Oh my goodness!" Oh, Bernadetta had really done it now. She could already feel the executioner's axe swaying above her head, waiting to drop down for her failures. "I am so sorry! I didn't mean to do that! Oh, stupid Bernie, you can't even dance right!"

If a delicate shrinking daffodil had grown legs but received no manual on how to use them, his partner would constitute the principle to perfection. Marth hadn’t expected such little, unassuming cloppers to catch a grown man with as much consistency as they did - as if they swallowed the very dance floor like two yawning black holes - though each time was gracefully dismissed with a smile and a wave of the king’s hand, no doubt befitting the preternatural patience that best served a monarch.

...Although, it became increasingly difficult to maintain that dignity.

The more their intertwined steps faltered at her behest, the deeper her frantic response, until at last the merely cursory staggers and hitches of his feet evolved into disaster. Lying supine and staring up stunned at the glistering lights, his ears rung faintly at the ambience of the ballroom mingled with Bernadetta’s high-pitched agitation. He picked himself up, palm upraised in a universal gesture to convey his physical condition was intact.

( Mentally, however— )

“...You dance thinking only of yourself,” he said upon rising, though the speciously harsh words were not meant in any capacity of anger or offense. As if to clarify what he meant, he wasted not a single moment to continue: “Your thoughts are directed inward - at keeping your feet in order like two good little soldiers, or posing as little trouble to your partner as humanly possible. This approach is wrong.”

Where an expression of thoughtful and imperturbable coolness had been, the warm whisper of a smile bloomed as he stepped back into formation. “The conundrum is that a dance is waged in pairs. As you think of me, naturally... I will think of you.”

He linked their hands, and curved one gloved adherent firmly at her waist. From the top, this motion said, revitalized by the agenda to continue.

“That is the spirit of dance, milady.”

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #toaball2022 #minorindech

[princessmacedon]

[ Dance ]

"W-would you want to?" Bernie asks, holding her hand out to the other student. It's been a while. "I-It's not like the last ball we went to but, um. I thought it might be nice? Sorry, this is probably weird, I can just. Go."

"Wait!" The moment Bernie offers to leave, Maria clasps the timid archer's proffered hand with both of her own. "It's not weird at all! And even if it was, what's wrong with that?" What fleeting worry had marked her face now gives way to a reassuring smile, eyes twinkling as she squeezes Bernie's hand with a feather-touch. "You can be as weird as you want to, Bernie! Who knows, maybe it'll be fun, hee hee.

"You're right about the ball, though," the cleric continues, a sparkling grin thrown over her shoulder as she makes her way to the ballroom floor. Only one hand surrenders its grip, the other ginger and yet firm. "This ball is even better than the last one, because this time, I get to dance with you!"

A cheesy line, perhaps, but one of the benefits of being a teenager was getting to say cheesy lines with your entire heart, and Maria makes full use of this privilege. Indeed, the dance is secondary to the friend who stands before her; the stuffed wyvern on her bed, too, is sure to be pleased.

"I..." Wisps of crimson tickle her shoulder as the thought turns into a hum. Bernie's is a gentle heart, and she chooses her words with care so as to fill it with warmth instead of worry. "I'm so happy to see you again, Bernie."

#toaball2022 #minorindech #BERNIEEEEEEEEE #IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN..... #maria will show you to the TASTIEST cakes!!

[constancevonnuvelle]

[ Meow ]

Another of Yuri's friends. Bernadetta frowned at the headband she had found and awkwardly holds it up to her head. "Is this how you're supposed to? I'm not sure I really get what's up with these headbands?"

YES. CATS. Constance could barely keep her composure at the sight of the headbands, so when Bernadetta came along she very calmly dragged her over to the headbands in pure excitement. It was less than proper noble attire, but who cares? It’s meow meow time.

“I… I believe so?” She doesn’t actually know, but Constance is not giving up on her cat dreams. “Cat ears on on their heads… so they should go upon ours as well? Do we meow? Are we supposed to meow?” Constance tried to look to the operator for answers, only to be blinded by the light of the camera going off. 

No meowing today. Sad.

#toaball2022 #constance graces you with her presence! #support: bernadetta #minorindech

[goldoanheart]

[ Bunny ears ]

Kurth glanced at the shy quivering girl before him, surprised that she had wanted to do something like this with someone that she had barely met before. It was quite brave of her to do so. He patted her gently on the head, reassuring her that he was quite friendly. He wouldn't want her to be scared of him after all. Glancing at the props on the table, he grabbed something that he figured that she might look quite cute in, placing a pair of bunny ears upon her head.

"There you go. I think you look quite cute, just like a little bunny." She did remind him a bit of scared little bunny after all, though he meant that in the nicest way possible. He laughed at how cute she looked. Really, she did bear quite the resemblance to a baby bunny. How adorable.

#ic: i'll rely on my own strengths #ic posts #inbox: i will take this to heart #answering asks #support: bernadetta #╭༻❀❁❀༺╮《ᴀᴅᴏʀᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙᴜɴɴʏ | ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ: ʙᴇʀɴɪᴇ #toaball2022 #minorindech #supports: i am growing rather fond of seeing everyone

[housegautier]

[ BLANKET ]:     just as they’re all about to go to sleep, the sender covers the receiver with their own blanket.

settling dust

More often than not, Sylvain dreams of home.

It’s the same nightmare that has plagued him since long before his time at the Officer’s Academy. A seemingly never ending fall through darkness, the sky above him a mere prick of light that only ever shrinks, the walls around him echoing his brother’s voice. 

The dream has changed, though. No longer is the well all that haunts him, but instead the image of Miklan’s crest beast–of his own lance through it.

He’s found that those dreams hurt less now that he marches alongside Edelgard and her empire. They’re only a dull reminder of why he is here–a fan toward the flame that pushed him away from Gautier and Faerghus as a whole. These days it’s the happier dreams that hurt the most, always rimmed by an unfamiliar sadness. Longing, maybe. Mourning.

Mostly, they’re dreams of Felix and Ingrid. Full of bickering and laughter and all of the things he knows he will never have another chance to say to them. Not as their friend, at least. He’ll never have that right again.

Now, though, it’s Dimitri that comes to him. The one that he had known, at least, before all of this had come to be. Not the walking corpse he had come to find of his old friend, but the prince he had used to be.

Sylvain wakes soundlessly. There are tears in his eyes, he knows, so he doesn’t open them. Just listens as the rest of his little scouting party settles in to sleep around him.

Something shuffles close enough to draw his attention. He stays silent, unmoving–not quite willing to give up the guise of sleep in favor of fumbling for that stupid mask of his that he still can’t seem to shake. More shuffling. Sylvain caves.

One eye cracks open just in time to see Bernadetta settle beside him. It’s only then, when she shifts, that he realizes he’s beneath a blanket. Hers, more specifically. A smile pulls at his lips before he can stop it.

“Thank you,” soft, perhaps so much so that she doesn’t even hear it, but he means it.

#minorindech #[s] bernadetta #[asks] #//this is such a cute prompt im sorry i took it and used it to make sylvain depressed #// i just think crimson flower sylvain mentally unwell. u kno. #//kiss bernie.... love u little lady

[hresvelged]

"Um flame emperor? I'm um. I'm not too sure about the idea for me to man the ballista. It, uh. It looks really flammable."

"Do you not trust my judgment? My belief in your ballista skills? My confidence none of that will happen?" She pouts, not that anyone can see it. "my word is final. I believe it is the best position for you. With your ~ballista powers~, we will see this to fruition."

#TOAaprilfools #minorindech

[songstriked]

[ Smooch ] - The sender kisses the receiver on the lips for a romantic photo.

Although there is an abundance of props to choose from, Dorothea can't quite settle on one. She playfully picks up a pair of cat ears, laughing to herself as she puts them down. Perhaps something for later, if the mood so strikes. No matter what she might be doing in this moment with Bernadetta, she’s positive it will be one worth remembering. If she’s lucky, she can even keep the photograph for herself!

“Should we grab one of the props, Bern? Or, maybe.. We could stand side by side and link arms! How does that sound?” Dorothea settles to sit atop a nearby stool, hands folded neatly in her lap as she looks towards her classmate in wait. This event is large, filled with people and nobles to talk with all over the place. She may be a commoner, but Bernadetta doesn’t seem to mind. It’s quite nice.

Lost in thought, she finds her lips pressed against Bernadetta’s as the shutter of the photo-artifex’s lens cements itself into the songstress’s ears. Her eyes widen, more out of surprise than anything else. “Bern..?” She says softly as they quickly parted. Before she could let Bernadetta leave her sight, Dorothea gently placed a hand on her shoulder as she says, “Leaving already? Say, why don’t you spare me a dance?” With a playful wink, she adds, “And.. For the record, I’m glad you decided to spend this moment with me.”

#( asks ) #toaball2022 #( support: bernadetta ) #minorindech

[amitieos]

[ Tinted Glasses ]

Oh. This was the person Bernie remembers grabbing her arm last year at the ball. Bernie feels a little bit of anxiety well up in her throat, but she swallows it. Just cause it happened once didn't mean things were bad all the time.

"Um. Here!" Bernie holds out the glasses for her to take. "For the, uh, photo thing! Yeah."

She's approached by the last person she'd expect. It’s a testament to Bernadetta’s growth and personal strength, Elincia thinks to herself, as she offers the young woman what she hopes is a warm and welcoming smile. 

“Hello Bernie, it’s lovely to see you again,” she takes the glasses handed to her, orange tinted and holds them up to her face. They’re foggy and hard to see through but they’ll make a stellar prop for a fun photo. She waits next to the booth, allowing Bernadetta to take things at her own pace. “Let’s get ourselves a stunning photo together, shall we?”

#s:bernie #minorindech #toaball2022

[15shadesofgray]

Bernadetta squeaks. The glass the other had been handling hits the ground with a loud shatter. Those nearby turn to pause and look, but quickly move on finding nothing of interest. That split second of attention, though, is mortifying to Bernadetta, who quickly grabs napkins off the table and offers them to the other student.

"I am so so sorry! That was completely Bernie's fault, I wasn't looking where I was going like a stupid idiot, I didn't mean to spill your drink!" He hasn't even taken the napkins yet, but she's already reaching for more to pass him.

"It was champagne, right! I-I'll get you another one! Two even! Just to make it up to you! Please don't be mad!"

Ethereal Ball Ask Meme

     Gray stands by what he told Alm: Women always gets the last word. No matter who it is, related or not, they always do. He thought it was a solid conclusion for man’s endless journey in understanding the mysterious females of the world, but through the squeaks and panic, Gray realized they had a potential to evolve. Not only do they get the last word, always, sometimes you can’t even get a word in! 

     His cape takes most of the damage from the spill but with the amount of napkins he’s receiving, he’s sure all the liquid will be absorbed on its own. The merchant in him wants to make a run for it and just sell all these-- he can barely carry all of them at this point. Just how many napkins are there on the table??? “Woah! Hey! Easy there, cutie. I’m the one who’s supposed to be bombarding you with gifts!”

     He releases all of the napkins, letting them fall on the ground and opts to just hold the panicking Bernadetta by the arms, “My friend worked really hard to arrange this get-up for me, you know, I’m a little mad... but I’ll be nice.” He removes his hands from her arms and takes both her hands instead, “I’ll take your apology only if you give me your name. No champagnes needed.”

#inbox ( what's up buttercup ) #toaball2021 #support: bernadetta #minorindech

[herrings]

continued from here.

Oh, was she out? Realization dawns a bit too late to Linhardt as sparks of magic fade at his fingertips, he’s left to stare with wide eyes as Bernadetta is caught in his assault. In his defense, Bernadetta is always crying. Not to mention, she’s also on Golden Deer territory; If he weren’t the one to have attacked her, then surely someone else would have.

His fellow Adrestian falls, though Linhardt keeps his ground. The Battle of Eagle and Lion is still going and he’s an unfortunate position of having to stay alert for his team. “Are you okay?” He inquires once the wind settles, his tone simple as if he hadn’t just kicked his friend while she was down. A bow is launched at him, landing some pitiful distance away. Really, Linhardt thinks as he casts the fallen weapon a glance, Bernadetta’s precision truly ought to be better than that.

“You know, Bernadetta--” He speaks in tandem with her as he watches her rise, “I believe--” There are no words further said as something foreign flickers in the other noble’s eyes. A look that Linhardt overlooks, then regrets to ignore as Bernadetta practically throws herself onto him.

“Ugh!” His back slams against the mood with a disgusting ‘schlop!’ hair a mess as he instinctively thrashes back. “Bernadetta, wait!” His hair drags through sludge as he attempts to lift one long limb, desperately attempting to push back as his uniform becomes soiled. “I didn’t mean it!”

Well, that was a bit of a lie. He fully meant for his attack. But he didn’t know that she had been in retreat! @minorindech​

#minorindech #//FUCK EM SHORTIES. #// HE HAD IT COMING X 2