#ghosti moans about the weather

[monstersandmaw]

Hey if you're struggling with the heat you could try going to a mall to do your writing where they have AC which will help you stay cool! Take care!

Thanks Anon, I appreciate your thoughts, but I don't actually live anywhere near a mall (shopping centre, as we call them anyway) so I'd have to go for a bit of a drive and then pay for parking in a multi-storey, and with a tank of petrol for our little VW Polo costing nearly £60 at the moment, I'm trying to do all I can not to have to drive, even from home to the nearest big town. I have a good fan in my room, and I can place wet tea towels over my shoulders to help keep me cool, and I've got a water bottle on my desk while I work.

[mommymooze]

Big Girls, Big Hearts

The Golden Deer are devouring their lunch on a sunny fall afternoon. The conversation is lively as they are quite the boisterous bunch. Rumors are spreading about strange things happening in Remire Village. Everyone is working themselves into an anxious state about the perplexing rumors being overheard. Hilda decides it is time to lighten the conversation.

“You know, every year they hold a ball at the Academy. The students get the chance to get to know each other better in a more friendly environment and its sort of a reward for working so hard as well as a possible way to find future partners.” She grins widely.

“A ball?” you ask. “With dressing up and dancing? I’m a commoner. It’s only for nobles, right?”

Hilda scoffs. “No silly! It’s for everyone! Dancing and romancing!  Time to find love and intrigue, hugs and kisses.”

“Um, this is an optional event, right?” You ask nervously. You’ve never been to a ball. Never had to learn to dance. You would rather beat up 500 bandits than go to a single ball.

“Come on (y/n) . You are the bravest person I know. What’s so scary about a little dance? Getting to hold a special someone in your arms for a bit, maybe even a kiss in the moonlight…Ooooh so exciting!” Hilda clasps her hands together daydreaming wistfully.

“Maybe I can catch the plague by then.” You grumble at your empty plate in front of you.

“No! Don’t even think that. We are going to get you ready and dressed up and you will not believe how beautiful you will look.” Hilda stomps her foot at you.

“Yeah, like putting lipstick on a pig, but with fat swollen lips because I’m allergic to it.” You further groan.

“Pish Posh! We can accentuate your good qualities yet keep you comfortable. I may let you wear shoes with less than 3 inch heels even.” Hilda puts her finger on her chin plotting further ways of dressing you up.”

“Balls are for petite cute girls like you and Marianne. My arms are like tree trunks. I am bulgy and lumpy. Not a sweet and delicate flower such as yourself.” You moan on, hoping she gives up soon.

Hilda puts her hands on her hips. “Yes, I can be a delicate flower. I also wield an axe just like you. Those things are heavy and take strength to swing around. Yes, I will admit to having a few muscles. Not everyone wants a delicate maiden that falls over from the slightest breeze. Some want a good hunk of warm and loving body to squeeze them back until they can’t breathe. Everyone knows you are incredibly strong. Didn’t I hear about you carrying Dedue to the infirmary not that long ago? I bet Felix or Sylvain couldn’t do it at all, but you just whisked him up and hauled him across the monastery like he was a little kid and ran him up the stairs to the infirmary.”

You blush furiously. “What was I supposed to do? I walked into the greenhouse just as he slipped on the wet rocks and he was knocked out. I couldn’t just leave him there.” You are hiding your face in your hands, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

Hilda laughs. “(Y/n), We watched you carry him bridal style running to the infirmary. I heard that when he found out he blushed for a half hour straight.!”

You want to crawl under the table, settling for crossing your arms and burying your face in them.

Hilda tugs your arm, “We are hitting up the dressmaker in town. Gonna get you a killer dress, show off those muscular toned abs and legs, and get you set up for the night of your life.”

“Nightmare of my life more like.” You mumble to yourself.

-----------------

The battle at Remire is terrifying. Thomas turns into a really creepy ghosty old guy. The Flame Emperor shows up being threatening. The worst part is the villagers. They are going crazy killing everything, even their own families. They didn’t know they are attacking their own loved ones, their own friends. The Deer try so hard to rescue as many villagers as possible. You work to subdue as many of the possessed ones you can. They are still someone’s family and hopefully the madness is temporary. When the battle is over you look at the village, not much is left of it. The smell of smoke and burnt everything is thick in the air, choking everyone, making their eyes burn.  Finally, after the cleanup is done and all the villagers are treated for injuries, it is time to head back to the monastery.

The Golden Deer are unusually quiet as they silently march back to the monastery. Even Hilda is quiet after what she had seen. Ignatz makes his way over to you as the group keeps walking back to the academy.

“You ok?” He softly whispers to you.

You take your sleeve and wipe the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, I just got a lot of smoke in my eyes there. Thanks.” You mumble back, hanging your head a bit lower than it was before.

It is a long walk back. Everyone finally makes it into the monastery gates and the group splits up, everyone going their own direction.

Claude takes you aside. “Are you going to be okay? I’d be happy to chat if you want to. The professor is a great listener too.” He says with a look of concern in his eyes.

You don’t know where your tears are coming from now. They haven’t stopped since you were in Remire village. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Professor Byleth comes over and puts her arm around your shoulder, leading you to her room. She pulls out a tea set and prepares tea.

“You know I lost my parents in a fire. Watching the village burn brought the whole thing back.” You stare down into your teacup.

“I’m sorry.” Byleth responds. Her face is not extremely expressive, but you can tell she is being very sympathetic from her body language.

“Do you think I can talk to Seteth about helping them out some? Isn’t this something like what the church would do? It is so late in the year and many of them don’t have secure homes to live in.” You ask, the tears slowing.

“My father and I spent a lot of time at that village. That was where the church found us.  I will talk to him as well.” Byleth nods.

You return to your room to try to sleep after such a nightmarish week.

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The next morning you check with Seteth about assisting the village. You find that he has already spoken with Captain Jeralt and Lady Rhea feels that this is an excellent idea. After a few days of gathering supplies and materials, a small caravan heads out to Remire. Professor Byleth, the Golden Deer, Shamir, Jeralt and all his former mercenaries who had been incorporated into battalions, Alois and some of the Knights of Seiros, and surprisingly, Dimitri and Dedue.

The town elders meet with your group, discussing their wants and needs. Repairs to the structures that are salvageable should begin quickly. Tasks are divided between those that are experts in certain areas assisted by warm bodies that can lift, move or hand things to others. Ignatz is working on a map of the to be reconstructed village. Since assistance has arrived so quickly, there are fewer residents that will be leaving for other towns, happily staying now that they have some support. Everyone has something they can do. Cutting trees, clearing branches, gathering wood and kindling, sifting through burnt houses for useful items that can be salvaged like utensils, plates, and tools. The young go with the old to fields gathering heather, reeds, and straw for thatching the roofs.

You start with gathering salvaged bricks together to repair buildings. Even Lysithia can carry a few bricks at a time, you tell her 30 are needed at this house, 15 needed here. A few Knights head off to a local riverbank for sand and water to make the mortar.  You clean and prepare the bricks, measure the materials and have someone stir the mortar mixture. Soon you find yourself up on a ladder with a full mortarboard spreading an even layer of the compound, then place a brick, lay more mortar between it and the next brick. Starting with the smaller repairs first there are now several restored residences that will keep the wind and weather out.

As the sun goes down, everyone gathers in the center of town around large cauldrons full of soup, together with fresh baked bread made by the residents from the supplies brought by the Academy volunteers. Many of the townspeople are crying thanking everyone for their help. The Knights certainly push that this is by the grace of the goddess and the church. Others are simply happy to help in any way they can.

You grab some soup and take a seat near Dimitri and Dedue. They greet you and welcome your presence.

“I am surprised by your bricklaying knowledge. I had no idea of your talents.” Dimitri smiles.

“My older brother was a bricklayer, I helped him out often when I was growing up. I can’t wait to get my hands on some hammers and nails once the brickwork is complete.” You grin. “I am surprised to find the two of you here.”

“Hey your Princeliness, Dedue, (Y/n). Mind if I join you?” Claude takes a seat next to you. “We really appreciate your help. We did not expect other houses to send anyone.”

“I am very interested to see firsthand the reconstruction after disasters such as this.” The prince says excitedly. “It is wonderous seeing everyone come together with a single mindset of rebuilding. Everyone is helping in so many different manners. The strong are carrying bricks and trees, cutting wood, lifting loads. The weaker are preparing food for everyone, gathering materials and completing more delicate work. I am amazed at how much has been accomplished in just a single day.”

“Agreed. Many hands make light work.” Dedue nods. “I am happy to lend my strength.”

“Both of you are certainly welcomed with open arms. There is plenty of heavy lifting to do.” Smiles Claude. “I hope we can replace a few homes before we leave. Talking with the elders, there are some families doubled up in the same house. At least if each family has their own place it would be much more pleasant making it through winter.”

“Another important thing is to provide these people support and comfort.” You softly speak. “Let them know there are others out here who care for you as your fellow man. I do not know any of these people, but I do know about losing things to disaster. People that had no idea who I was helped me, kept me going when my life was crushed by disaster. Now here I am, helping out someone else that I have no idea as to who they are. I just want to help them. I hope it keeps them going as well.”

Dedue nods and smiles. The two house leaders agree that this is a great learning experience for everyone. You take the empty dishes leaving them to chat amongst themselves and head over to Byleth who is sitting with her father and their former mercenaries.

“Byleth, Jeralt. I wanted to thank you personally for helping bring this together. It didn’t sit right with me leaving these people behind and in such a ruined state.” You say, a smile finally crossing your lips.

“If Seteth would have said one word about not helping with this I would have punched that ‘No’ right off of his face.” Jeralt laughs. Byleth smiles. “This is a great learning experience for everyone. I think all of the classes should complete a project like this. Hands on learning is the most practical. Even Lorenz is finding some hidden talents as a result of this experience. I think he has a greater respect for Leonie too. That girl can turn a pile of trash into 100 different useful things.”

After dinner there’s not enough light to work on building without making it dangerous. So you decide to knit a sock or two. That way you can talk to everyone and when you’re done, someone has a new pair of socks. Win-win! There is plenty of chatter to go around the campfires with everyone in the village telling interesting stories of its history, or funny residents who did silly things, famous village romances or deeds. They also share stories of when the Blade Breaker came to town to save or help them. Being in a village isn’t all peace and quiet. There were some exciting and spicy tales shared until the cobwebs filled everyone’s heads and it was time to sleep.

The next day is just as busy with more homes being made whole by the end of the day. Construction is started on two different houses. One for a larger family, one for a smaller. Everyone gives their all in some way or another. Gathering kindling, firewood, food, finding the animals that were scattered by the calamity. Suddenly Saturday morning arrives, the last day the group from Garreg Mach will stay for rebuilding. What a difference everyone has made! Every family in Remire has their own place to stay without having to share. There are a long row of stalls for wares in the new Marketplace. There is even a barn and stable to keep horses for the community. Firewood is stored to keep the homes warm. It is everything the smaller village needs to get them through the winter. There is a celebration in the village center and tears are shed. However, these are all tears of joy as new friendships have been forged and the feeling of a job well done can be left with the people. The march back to the monastery is full of high spirits and happy hearts.

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Back at the monastery you look forward to a warm bath and sleeping in your own bed. Just as you’ve changed into your nightgown there is a knock on the door.

“Um, I was just about to go to sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?” you anxiously respond to the knock as you stand at the door.

“It’s just me.” Says Hilda. “Come on. We’ve got some girl talk to do.”

You roll your eyes as the chipper pink ponytailed girl comes bouncing in your dorm.

“You haven’t forgotten the ball now, have you?” She winks.

“Oh yeah, that.” You stammer. You kinda sorta did forget.

“Tomorrow we’re going to town and getting a dressmaker to take your measurements. I know exactly what you need to wear.” She bubbles out excitedly. “I think you would be adorable in yellow. I saw the most darling shimmery satin material that would make you look like a princess.”

“A muscular, big shouldered princess.” You whine.

“Girl, you have no idea how to work with what you have, and you have a lot going for you.” Hilda smirks. “Now, I’ve been thinking. I know that you can’t wear lipstick, but I was hoping you can do some lip gloss. It has different things that go into it. Some are even flavored. Have you ever tried any?”

“Um. No.” You shrug sheepishly.

“Great! Hold still now.” Hilda has you in her grip as she plunks you down in your chair and starts carefully applying some gloss to your lips.  “There. How is it?”

You mush your lips together. They aren’t tingling or stinging. They don’t feel like they are getting fat. She pulls your mirror from your dresser to show you your lips.

“They’re just shiny.” You say, looking confused.

“Shiny is healthy. Gloss makes your lips slippery. It’s really good for you in the winter. When the cold air hits them, they stay soft and won’t peel. Your lips are really pretty. They’ll be lined up around the building wanting to get a turn to kiss those cute shiny lips.” The pinkette grins.

“But this is a dance. Where is the kissing coming from? Do I have to? I’m so confused.” You plunk back down on your chair with a big frown.

“Listen and listen good. Pretty soon we’re going to graduate, everyone is going to go their own way and you’re my friend and I’m just trying to help you get the most out of life. The ball isn’t just a celebration for nobles. It’s a chance to get to know the other students better in a different environment, a casual and fun environment. So many people have met the love of their life at this very same Academy event! Who knows what will happen on that glorious evening? The magic is calling for you, I can hear it!”

You look at her like she has two heads.

“Come on! Loosen up! I told you I will get you through this. Let’s start with the dance lessons. If you are dancing with a guy, he’s supposed to lead. If you dance with a girl, then either of you can lead, just agree who is to lead before you start. So I am going to lead. That means you put your left hand on my shoulder on the same side, and put your right hand into my palm on the other.” She grabs your hand and waits for you to put the other on her shoulder. “Good. Now don’t stomp on my feet, you have socks on, so put your toes on mine so you can follow me. The lead person is going to take their right foot and step forward, since you are following, you take a step back on your left foot. You will be moving backwards mostly, so the lead person watches to make sure you don’t crash into anyone…” Hilda goes through the basics of the box step for the waltz. You don’t quite crush her toes, and just maybe you do get the hang of it a bit. She tells you to look at her face, don’t look down. Stop looking down. Looking down will mess you up. You crash and fall over on the bed laughing once and she makes you get up and try again.

“Enough for your first lesson. You did great.” Hilda smiles. “So tomorrow after breakfast, we hit the dress shop.”

You yawn, “Sure…” and wave as you see her out the door. You would have bad dreams about going to the ball and stomping on everyone’s feet, but you’re too tired to even do that and actually just have a good night’s rest.

-----------------

After breakfast Hilda practically drags you to town.

“Maybe I should just wear pants.” You grumble.

“Come on, you would look so cute!” She giggles.

“Cute is a bunny or a baby chick. I feel more like a silly goose.” You whine.

She hauls you into the dressmakers where a tall redheaded woman with a lowcut red dress assists you. “Hello dahlings.” She greets you at the door. Hilda curtseys, so you do too.

“Madame Palmyre, I’ve brought you another beauty in need of a dress for the ball.” Hilda proclaims.

“Hmmm. Hmmmm. Well. Athena. Hmmmm. No, Artemis! With the shoulders of Atlas. Oooooh. Yes.” Madame coos and ahhs as she walks around you touching your shoulders, lifting your head, raising your arms. “We must measure, quickly!” and shuffles you to the back where you are hastily stripped to your undergarments.

Madame’s hands work at a fast pace. She’s put special strings around various parts of your body, writing numbers down. Hilda stands next to her and they chitter and chatter with each other for a while. You decide to put your clothes back on.

“Lovelies, I shall have it ready two days before the ball. She will be magnifique!” Madame Palmyre raises her right hand with a flourish and a wide smile.

Hilda drags you to the cobbler to see what sort of shoes would be best. You glance at the boots longingly.

“No. “The Goneril girl shakes her head. “Cute. Not clunky.”

“Hilda, I have feet shaped like a duck.” You groan.

“Come on, work with me.” Hilda finally finds the shoes she is looking for. “Check this out. There is almost no heel, the toe is rounded but the way it is made, it gives you room for your wider foot to be comfy. Still cute!”

You look at the shoes, then at your friend. “I know you know what you are doing. I am so clueless. Just promise me I won’t want to cut off my feet by the end of the ball and I will wear whatever you want me to.”

“Gotcha, fam!” Hilda smiles as she puts in the order. The cobbler takes your measurements and says they will be ready next Sunday.

Hilda takes you to the final store of the day, which is great because this is really getting confusing and exhausting and overwhelming.

“Hey Mattie!” Hilda greets the owner. “We’re here for lipgloss and earrings.”

“But I don’t have pierced ears.” You look at her puzzled.

Hilda grins. “You will.”

You are a brave girl in battle. You fight and punch bad guys in the face. Intentionally letting someone stab holes in your ears is a whole different story. You were brave when they created the first hole and stuck the earring through. But when they stabbed your other ear with the needle, the needle that kept getting bigger the more you looked at it, the tears were shooting out of your eyes like rain.

“It’s done, its done. You’re fine! Look! So pretty!” Hilda is patting you on the back showing you the mirror. Mattie gives instructions to turn the earrings frequently and keep them clean. They should be well healed by the time of the ball. She helps you pick out some mint and honey flavored lip gloss.

You feel exhausted and overwhelmed. Not even fresh treats from the bakery tempt you. You just want to go back and hide. And maybe punch out a Duscur bear. Do something more familiar and relaxing.

That night you can’t sleep well. You always sleep on your side and no matter how you crunched up or mauled your pillow it still hurt your ears. You are going to die from lack of sleep long before the night of the ball. That is a welcome end, you think to yourself.

--------------------------

The next morning, dark circles hang heavily below your sleep deprived eyes, you barely make it to class in time. Lysithia notices something different as soon as she comes into the room.

“Your ears are pierced. That is so cute! I’ve been thinking about it. I may do that too some day.” The white haired girl muses.

“Hey (Y/n), Lysithia! Look who has more holes in her head! Just kidding.” Claude says as he taps his own earring while looking at yours.

Hilda strolls into the classroom followed by Marianne. They come to sit beside you.

“My ears are killing me. You better take good notes. I am going to sleep through class.” You warn the mischievous pinkette.

“And you’ll be cute doing it too. Yes, sometimes beauty can be painful, but it will go away soon.” Hilda tries to reassure you.

“I wish I could use magic on it, but it might make your earrings stick to your ears.” Marianne comments looking at her hands.

You rest your hands on your books and your chin on your hands. Nothing is touching your ears and you fall asleep before Hanneman comes in and starts his lecture about crests.

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The excitement surrounding the ball continues. Your stomach starts to twist in knots every time you hear the word “Ball”. You have your new shoes and Hilda makes you practice dancing in them and walking around your room in them so they are broken in enough to not hurt you on the night of the..you know.

Hilda drags you to town the Sunday before the ball to get a fitting for your dress. She’s being a real stinker, because she makes you wear a blindfold so you can’t see it.  It comes with a special bustier, lifting your bust to be plump like a partridge (Madame Palmyre’s words). You had no idea what a bustier is in the first place. They picked and primped on you for a few minutes and then took the dress away, letting you get back into your comfy clothes. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, but you certainly wouldn’t battle in the dress, you chuckle to yourself.

Hilda continues with dancing practice. Marianne joins so you can observe them dancing as well. Marianne, the best dancer in the Deer glides gracefully across the floor. You feel like you are stomping around like a moose with four left feet. You are getting better though, you hardly step on Hilda’s feet any longer.

Soon, too soon, the fateful day arrives. The ball is this evening. They have classes in the morning so that everyone can get ready or in your case, panic in the afternoon. You just know you have a fever, you’re sick to your stomach. You should go to the infirmary so they can pronounce you on the brink of death and give a written note excusing you from the…the thing.  Class finally ends, before you can escape, Hilda, Annette, and Dorothea grab you and physically take you to Hilda’s room for hairstyling and makeup. You try to excuse yourself because you forgot your lipgloss, but they are on to you and will not let you go. You have no idea how they can fit so many females in the same room and still have room to work on them all. You hope you can escape when getting lunch, but no, they are too evil and have lunch brought in for everyone.

“(Y/n), I have the perfect jewelry to match your look.” Hilda giggles. She holds up gold crescent moon earrings, bracelet, and a matching necklace. Many “oohs” and “ahhs” are heard from the others. The stones in the bracelet are perfect, they are a pale yellow and black, matching the colors of the dress. Hilda sends you off to your room with Annette and Dorothea to get you into your dress. The songstress shows you how to put on the sheer and dotted with gold sparkles thigh high stockings without ripping them, teaching you how to fasten them to the garter belt. They adjust the lacing of the bustier so that you can breathe easily and move, yet your bust is enhanced, which is quite embarrassing, but then you look over at Dorothea and she’s super enhanced and ready to spill over the top of hers any second. Finally they help you lift and pull the dress on. Soft yellow chiffon at the top, gathered under the bust into its empire waist. A black airy stretchy panel starts there and goes to the bottom of the dress, flaring out a bit. The front is just past your knees, the back a few inches above your ankles. It visually pulls your waist in. Dorothea has that perfect hourglass figure with a waist so tiny that you could almost enclose it with your hands. You have much more um, meat, around your waist, the muscles alone make you twice as wide as her, but with the black panel it flares so you really do look, dare you think it, feminine. You thought the slightly puffy sleeves would make your shoulders bigger, but they just give you more freedom of movement. This is the most comfortable and beautiful dress you have ever worn. Madame is a magician.

Dorothea nearly has tears in her eyes. “Our baby looks all grown up.” She sniffles.

“Wow.” Declares Annette. “I need to meet this seamstress. She really knows her stuff. Its like you’ve been magically transformed. If I didn’t know it was you under there (y/n) I would say it was a different person.

“Come on, you are going to make me cry.” You were emotional before, but seeing the whole outfit, you do feel like the princess Hilda wanted you to look like.

Suddenly it is time for everyone to head to the ball. Many of the women head off to meet their dates. Hilda and her date, Marianne, look adorable together. They have the same purple flowers in their hair and their dresses complement each other perfectly. They walk with you toward the sound of music playing. The students are filing into the large room for the dance, the variety of colors and styles are striking. Everyone looks so beautiful.

You wander over to where the Golden Deer have congregated on the side of the room. Raphael is wearing a shirt that fits across his chest, although his muscles in his arms still look like they are about to burst through the sleeves.

“Hey, (y/n). Glad to see ya. You sure look pretty.” Raphael grins. You take it as an amazing compliment, he usually only notices food.

Ignatz is nervously pulling at his collar. “I haven’t been to a Ball before. The monastery really went all out for this. The food, decorations, and presentation are a work of art.”

The house leaders are called to the front accompanied by Hilda, Hubert, and Mercedes. They perform a special dance together that includes changing partners. Of course, Claude has to ham it up by dipping Edelgard who is a bit shocked but recovers well from the unexpected move. The special dance ends and the surrounding students now fill the dance floor.

Leonie sits next to you with a plate of appetizers and sweets. “Go grab some food, (y/n). They have some amazing things on the banquet tables. I tried this gray stuff, it’s delicious.”

You quickly shake your head. “My stomach is so jittery. I’ll stick with apple juice.” You weakly smile as you take a sip.

Looking to the left, there is an anxious Lysithia trying to drag a dressed-up Cyril out to the dance floor. You laugh because he looks more nervous than you. Hilda has Marianne out on the floor, the couple gliding along smoothly like the floor is made of ice. Annette is smiling widely as Ashe is guiding her safely around the other couples. They look too cute.

“Ahem! (Y/n)” you suddenly hear a male standing next to you, breaking you from your trance.

You jump a little in your seat to see the Prince of Faerghus bowing low and asking you for a dance.

You stand up and stammer, “Oh, yes. Thank you.” You place your right hand into his left as he leads you among the dancing couples. Hilda’s dance practice pays off as you have yet to stomp on the Blue Lions leader’s feet or trip over your own. You chat about how happy he is having participated in the rebuilding of Remire and how some day he will rebuild Duscur as well. Just as the song ends, he bends closer to your ear.

“I think Dedue would like to have a dance with you as well. He is a bit shy, but if you wait patiently close by him he may gather enough courage to ask you, unless of course you ask him first.” Dimitri smiles as your face turns completely red.

You can feel the burn of the blush all the way to the back of your neck.  You curtsey as the song ends and he leaves to find another partner. You just happen to be close to where Dedue is standing, the tall man is against the wall, his hands behind his back, eyes flitting from couple to couple. You decide to stand not far from the Duscur male.

Watching the students dance, Claude pulls Professor Byleth out onto the floor. You laugh at the shocked look on her face. Balthus is dancing with Manuela. He has a grin from ear to ear as he twirls her around, making her laugh. Perhaps this is what everyone needs, to have a night to forget about their problems and issues going on and simply enjoy themselves, if just for a little while. You find yourself swaying with the music as you look over at Dedue who takes a step towards you.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” Dedue asks softly, smiling pleasantly.

“Yes. I was not looking forward to it, however now that I am here it is nice. It is good to see our friends simply being happy.“ You answer him. “Would you like to dance?”

Dedue bows, “It would be my honor.” He says, taking your hand in his.

He is so incredibly tall. The top of your head is well below his shoulders. You have to crane your neck to look into his face, but it is worth it to see his gentle smile.

The white haired man looks down at you, “You are small.”

You nod as you smile, trying not to laugh because compared Dedue, absolutely everyone is small.

Dedue continues, “You are very strong.”

You blush, mashing your forehead into his chest. This giant man just said you were strong.

He is not finished. “And cute.”

Your ears are burning because you are blushing so hard. You’ve never been cute before. You’re having a hard time looking into his eyes while you are blushing so hard, so you decide to focus your sight on his strong handsome chin. Breathe, don’t forget to breathe.

“You have many wonderful talents. Not only fighting and helping Dimitri.” You tell Dedue, daring to look in his eyes again. “In the village I was impressed by your construction skills. Your assistance helped us complete more buildings than we had originally planned. Thank you.”

You both smile at each other as you continue to dance for the rest of the song, as it ends, you curtsey, he bows.

Before you take one step toward exiting the dance floor, Claude mysteriously appears behind you, taking your right hand in his. He kisses the back of your hand.

“May I have this dance, my Deer?” Claude smiles widely at you.

“I cannot say no to our Leader-man. That would be against the rules. Not that you pay much attention to rules, Claude.” You laugh as you place your left hand upon his shoulder.

Dancing with Dimitri and Dedue had been proper and elegant. Their steps carefully measured, in perfect time with the music. Dancing with Claude is like holding on to a leaf in a whirlwind. You moved up, then down back then right then spun and twirled. One time he had spun you around you thought he was trying to fling you into the middle of the orchestra. You think it strange, then funny, then you begin to laugh. He twirls you away from him, then pulls you to twirl the opposite way around toward him, your chest lightly crashing into his as you laugh together.

His steps suddenly fall back in with the tempo of the music, you following. Your laughter calming, you gasp a bit as you are slightly out of breath, and dancing very closely with Claude. You feel his right arm around you, his fingers close to the center of your back, his chest is warm against you.

“Hilda told me that if I play my cards right that I might get to dance with a beautiful princess tonight.” Claude purrs softly in your ear. “I think I have a winner here.”

You blush profusely, trying to look away from his dazzling emerald eyes and failing. Claude’s grin is as wide as you have ever seen it. Suddenly the music concludes. The orchestra takes a brief break.

He bows and you curtsey back.

“Thank you, princess (y/n).” Claude Grins.

“Thank you, Duke von Riegan.” You smile.

Hilda runs up to drag Claude off to gossip about who knows what as you grab a seat and catch your breath. You will have to honestly thank Hilda for making you go to this. You catch your breath in the quiet during the orchestra’s break. Your heart has simmered down after beating at such an excited rate for so long.

You glance about the room. Looking left you see the orchestra has returned, preparing to begin, to your right you see two different redheaded gentlemen headed your direction. Oh my…

[rougebangtan]

pairing: jungkook | reader

genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

word count: 1.840

prompt: old rock + can fulfill the ghostie bingo prompt

warnings: there’s a little making out in the end, so if you don’t like that, please be warned.

You roll your eyes in annoyance at the man in front of you. It is the third consecutive week that he has come to the store without making any purchases. The young man always wore all-black outfits, and would come by in the afternoons, granting you the honor of his visits. He would browse the store, flicking obnoxiously through the CD’s and records for hours on end.

One thing you had to give credits where the credit was due, however, was his impeccable sense of style. He dressed himself in a very unique and pristine manner; even as he tried to look badass, he most certainly looked soft and innocent. The amount of detail he put on his looks was nothing short of admirable. You caught yourself more than once enthralled by the way his earrings would dangle on his lobes.

The shop you work in is in a rundown spot of the city’s downtown which, in turn, had caused you to see all kind of people. Not many where as pretty as the handsome boy that was showing up so often, but you weren’t going to allow yourself to be biased; his pretty privilege had already cut him a lot of slack. You’ve grown impatient with waiting. It’s already been close to a month and the guy hasn’t bought anything.

Sucking in a breath, you think about your options. You have two: you either ignore him or finally set him straight. The choice is clear to you since your mama didn’t raise you to be a quitter. You feel yourself marching towards him before your mind processes the closeness between the two of you. You have your resting bitch face on and that’s what you attribute his stunned expression to as he gets even more wide-eyed.

With a silent sigh, you observe how he shifts in his spot, his legs alternating which one sustains his weight. Oh, boy, now he’s anxious? If anything, it’s you who should be.

“Hi,” you utter with a blank expression plastered on your face, adopting the most authentic salesperson persona you can. “We usually rather to let your customers pick what they want themselves, but you seem kinda lost. I’ve noticed you come to the shop often… I was wondering if you need help?”

He shifts under your gaze, looking absolutely caught off-guard. “Hmm, yeah,” he agrees while his hand goes to scratch his nape in a deflective move. “I could use some help… sorry about always leaving empty-handed. I’m just a very indecisive person.”

You chuckle lightly at that. The boy is super cute. “What are you looking for, pretty boy?”

“A gift.” He answers, and something evil stirs inside of you. You’re going to hell for the thoughts that swirls in your mind.

“A gift? For who? A significant other? A friend?” You query, subtly gauging his relationship status, and he seems to pick it up quite fast.

“It’s for a friend. We’re in a band together, and this store has many LPs that he’d like to add to his collection.” He explains, but he doesn’t keep eye contact for too long.

His cheeks heat up at how intently you pay attention to him. You figured that if he’d just waltz inside your workplace during three weeks to buy something, you had the prerogative to make him squirm.

“I like this one better,” you say as you pick up the Queen LP. “Their music definitely tells a story… I’m not quite sure about the words to describe it, but it just makes you feel nostalgic. In a good way, though. Makes your heart beat a little faster.”

As he stays quiet, you continue to go off about your favorite music in order to give him some insight in what to buy.

“Whereas this one,” you lay the LP in your hands down to grab another. “is kind of a little chaotic. I won’t say it doesn’t grow on you, but it’s a hard one to wrap your head around. At least for me.” You admit with a shrug.

“It’s hard to really get into it every time I try to listen.” His eyes were wide when you said that, and the pink shade that tainted his cheeks had started to creep up to his ears.

“I will take that one, then. Jimin will probably like it. He’s a chaotic person, so the concept suits him.” The man nodded.

“You sure? Don’t you want to hear a few tracks before you make a decision?” You question him, not wanting to be the one to blame in case the LP turns out to be a bad choice.

When he nods again in reassurance, you comply and walk back to the cash register, so you can ring up his purchase. What you don’t expect, however, is when he mutters: “What’s your name?”

You grin at the sheepish manner that he asks for it, and you wish you could hold his face between the palm of your hands seeing as he looks adorable, even with the pretense badass look. “Y/n. And yours?”

“Jungkook,” he replies earnestly.

“Well, Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you. Here’s your LP,” you announce and hand him the record. “It retails for a total of $15,99.”

He reaches on his pockets after taking the LP from you, and drops a 20-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change,” he whispers once he watches you moving around the register.

You gape at him briefly before you watch as he begins shifting again, and you could drool when he bites his already very pink lips. It’s not difficult to notice he wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how to, which is why you wait for him, Jungkook, with an expectant expression gracing your features.

“Thanks,” he settles on saying. Lifting the bag in hand, he clarifies. “For the LP, I mean.”

“You’re welcome,” you respond, a smile never leaving your face. “Thank you for your purchase. Hope you make good use of it.”

He still looks uncertain, but he nods and moves to the door to leave. “Yea, thanks again… Catch you a next time?”

It’s your turn to nod at his words. “Sure. See ya next time, Jungkook.”

When you return his hopeful sentiment, he beams, and as he makes his exit, you swear you could see a skip to his step.

Today was insanely hot, not even your outfit was helping, and you had chosen a smaller tank top paired with some bike shorts because of the weather. It’s been two weeks since you’ve last seen Jungkook, and your days felt like clockwork. You hated that he spent weeks coming to the shop, but as soon as he was confronted about it (very nicely, you add), he stops passing by.

You weren’t sure if it was the sweltering heat, but what you knew for certain is that the day passed in an agonizingly slow pace. You could count in your two hands how many people had entered the stop, and for that reason, you decided to close earlier. It wasn’t super early to close, though; it was only 10 minutes before your actual schedule.

When you get to the door, however, you’re met with a pleasant surprise. A scarcely dressed Jungkook is sweating in front of you, gasping for air, and his eyes twinkle in street’s lighting. He looks delicious, and the neediness you often feel quickly rekindles at the glorious sight you were gifted with.

“Y/n, hi!” He greets you, but you can see he’s still a little breathless.

‘Hi,” you greet back, second-guessing what you should do. You cave to the needy part of you that wishes to eye the boy for a longer while. “I was just about to close up… but you’re sweating buckets. Do you want a glass of water?”

He only signals in consent, and you step out so he could enter. You close the shop regardless, since that way you’d spare yourself of the trouble of leaving it open and Jungkook stays behind, watching as you do so.

After you give him a huge glass of ice-cold water, you observe him suspiciously. Resting against the counter, you wonder what was he doing there? His eyes are mesmerizing, and even as he gulps the refreshing liquid down, they never stray from your figure. You smile smugly to yourself. Your tank top left your bountiful cleavage on display as well as your back tattoos, and you’ve been proved that such combo had an interesting effect in men.

“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” You finally speak up when he stays silent. He seems surprised because his eyes, which were glued to your chest, are suddenly looking back at yours.

“Like what you see?” You tease.

He blushes at your statement and his hand soon find his nape. You noticed his recurrent mannerisms relied a lot on body language, and you could sense how shy the boy actually is around you.

“I forgot…” He mumbles with uncertainty, then shakes his head. “I didn’t know how to… askforyournumber.”

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowed.

“I didn’t know how to ask for your number.”

“Oh?” You gasp, then slowly stalk over to where he is. “Really? You should’ve told me… instead of coming to the show so many times, then vanishing.”

You watch in entertainment as his eyes widen so much, it looks like they could bulge out of their sockets. “Oh… I’m sorry about that.”

“How about this, Jungkook?” You say and your eyes flutter while staring at the beautiful boy, at the way his tongue moistens his lips. “You give me a kiss, and I give you my number. Would you like that?”

He nods repeatedly, eyeing your chest and tattoos wantonly. “Do you want to touch?”

Without saying anything, Jungkook touches the ink on your shoulders reverentially, his fingertips soon finding the crook of your boobs. You also put your hands on him, sneaking them underneath his shirt, and you swear you had to hold back a moan when you feel his pecs.

Needless of verbal communication, your lips brush against his, and he eagerly accepts the kiss. The pair of you kiss for minutes, his tongue brushes against yours sensually and you lose it when you feel Jungkook’s hard dick poke on your thigh. As you separate from one another, you realize you don’t want his manly hands to get off you.

Resting your hands on his chest while you gaze him through your lashes, you try to ask him out in the most nonchalant way. “Do you want to get out of here?”

His smile is blinding, and his hands grab your hips in reassurance. “I’d love to.”

The smile on your face is also uncontainable, so you rush to pick your stuff up and lock the backdoor. On your way out, you almost can’t believe you’re in fact walking hand-in-hand with the mysterious boy that thought dropping by at your work was a good flirting method.

If it was good, you didn’t know, but it was damn well effective.

a/n: Sammy !!! here it is, i envisioned the reader as you @breadoffoxy ily! Jester, @youarejesting, thank you for borrowing me your prompt. I hope to have done it justice. 🤍

[nebula-starlight]

Virus (Part 5 - Destruction)

‘Please tell me you aren’t actually going to go through with it,’ Nether hissed in Geer’s ear as the drake walked down the main road, his companion lingering in his shadow to avoid being seen.

Passing by a small group of dragons standing around an already closed market stall, he self consciously lowered his head further into the neck of the thick cloak he wore, hoping no one would venture to speak. The letter he received days ago felt heavy against his scaled skin, each clawscripted letter burned into his mind from reading it so frequently. Narssia was currently laying unresponsive on a cot at the psych ward of the clinic she herself worked for as a part-time healer. He knew little of her past but suspected she had her fair share of demons to wrestle with if the local who found her had also seen fit to notify him of her state. All he knew was that he should get his affairs in order and quickly.

Keeping his voice low as his vision swept over the stone road before him for signs of passing dragons, he whispered back into the collar of his well-worn cloak with assurance Nether would hear him, “Of course I am. She deserves the right to scratch me in the face if she wants. You’d do it as well if you had the chance.”

The late afternoon sun felt good on his snout as he rounded a corner, hoisting the bag he carried slung across his back higher up against his shoulders to prevent it from slipping. Still the relative quiet left him with ample time to reflect, his thoughts returning once more to what he discovered in the message delivered to him. Apparently Narssia had suddenly fallen ill without warning and his supposed letter was the only thing on her bed when one of her co-workers found her unresponsive in her home the next day. He hated the thought of her being sick but strangely couldn’t remember writing her anything. Of course he had planned on doing it but...

Not that it particularly mattered really, but he wondered how busy her small mountainous village was now. The weather would be starting to warm up now but was his cloak enough protection from the cold? Due to his disability he couldn’t exactly regulate his internal body temperature quite as easily as most dragons.

‘Honestly no, I wouldn’t. To each is own however.’ Nether’s low, emotionless voice pulled him from his thoughts and he sighed, lifting his head now that he was assuredly alone.

“Aww, come on. Surely the last relationship you had didn’t end on a... oh.” Geer started to pick fun at the fallen spirit but a glance at the narrowed crimson eyes caused him to rethink the idea. He hadn’t actually agreed yet to the idea of being Nether’s chosen vessel, much to equal annoyance and irritation of the German-speaking soul.

‘Can we not discuss that now? There’s bigger problems...’ He suddenly stopped, eyes glowing brightly before snarling and untangling himself from the flightless drake’s shadow.

Geer recognized the sign easily, knowing even before Nether started to ask what the question would no doubt be as he dismissed him with a paw. “Go on, I’ll be fine for a bit.”

‘Danke.’

Nether’s response was pained, barely even a whisper as he took to the air and vanished from sight, leaving Geer standing alone as he watched the spirit until he could no longer see him. It was an effect of the poison no doubt, reeking havoc on his mind to the point that he felt unpredictable in public. He’d give him some time to get back in control but now he had to do one of the hardest things in his life. Receiving rejection hurt but never had he been forced to become the bearer of such bad news.

Finishing up the journey to the clinic alone, Geer sat his bag down by the door and knocked, silently hoping she wouldn’t be around. He didn’t want this but Nether was right. The longer they waited the greater chance someone would figure out he was chosen by the illusionist. Even though his cloak covered the mark, how long could they successfully hide?

“Geer, hi there. What are you...?” She looked so pretty when she appeared in the doorway, purple scales freshly washed as water droplets hung from the deep amethyst.

“Mel, I know I don’t usually come by this late but...”

She eyed the bag beside him in the grass suspiciously. “You’re leaving? How long will you be gone?”

“Uh, that’s why I came actually... Mind if we step inside?”

She seemed reluctant but held the door open for him as he grabbed his bag and walked in. The same old medical smell hit his nostrils, a scent he never thought he’d miss as his claws clicked against the brick flooring.

“Alright, what’s up?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping as he let the burlap sack fall at his feet. “My friend is sick. I got the letter this morning asking if I could come immediately to see her. Apparently I was the last one to have contact with her by a letter I didn’t even write.”

Melvise walked up behind him, unfurling a wing to lay it over his cloth-covered back. “The one you’ve told me about... Narssia, wasn’t it? How bad are things?”

“I’m not sure...” Slipping out of her reach, he started to pace, hoping the old coping methods he once used to shut down any overwhelming thoughts would be enough to get him through what needed to be said. “I... I can’t do this anymore. You, me, us - it won’t work.” Huffing, he circled around to face her and reached up, unfastening his cloak to let it slide off his shoulders and reveal the much darker patch of raised scales. Lifting a forepaw, he jabbed a talon into the center of the mark. “See this? That means you were right. I am Nether’s Chosen. He’s already come to me and said so himself.”

“Hold on... You personally met the Shadowling, again? Either you’re brave as balls or have no sense of self-preservation.” She stepped closer, tracing his mark with a clawtip as he let his raised foreleg back to the ground dejectedly. “But that doesn’t mean we have to end things between us.”

“Yes it does. Once he binds his soul to mine everything will change. There won’t be just one drake inside my head anymore. He- He still loves the spirit that was his soulmate and I have a suspicion she’s the glitch that was seen around town.”

Melvise snorted, shaking her head. “Don’t tell me you interacted with it too.”

“Not that I know of but Nether would know...” Geer trailed off, glancing down at the raised diamond mark. It started to burn slightly, reminding him of the dream he’d had where the illusionist first approached him. They were wasting time.

“He’s not here now, right? We could steal a kiss while ghosty can’t see.”

‘No luck there, healer. I watch him hawk-like.’ Even though Geer had sensed it was coming, he still chuckled when Melvise just about jumped out of her skin at the sudden loud, commanding voice before Nether made his appearance known much the same way he had in the drake’s kitchen.

Noticing the fallen’s crimson irises weren’t as bright as they had been earlier, he took advantage of Melvise having to calm herself down to ask, “Everything alright?”

‘We can no longer afford to stall. I managed to fight it off for now but fear another wave might push me back under. Mine offer still stands, Chosen.’

Glancing between Nether and Melvise, the flightless drake sighed before starting to pace once again. “I can’t choose. Honestly I can’t. I know what my heart says clashes with my head but don’t make me do this. Mel, I respect the work you’ve done but I never really felt any deep feelings stir up when I looked at you.” He circled around, shrinking back a step at her now steely glare. “Please don’t be mad at me for falling for a dragoness I’ve never actually met. It’s not Nether’s influence either.”

‘Agreed. I feel his mind but not alter his thoughts. What he says is true.’

Her stormy eyes narrowed, cutting over to the spirit as he dropped to the floor, wings wrapping around his slightly quivering frame. “Why should I trust you when you got inside my head without permission the first time we ever met? I’d be just as happy if Geer never saw you in the first place, Shadowling.”

‘Consider yourself fortunate then that I will not act on mine instinct.’

Geer watched the encounter, noticing himself how the returning tremors were starting to affect the spirit’s movement and even speech to a point. Concerned, he started to ask again but decided against it, glancing away sheepishly. He’d let the two fight it out if they wanted.

‘We need to...’ The blazing crimson glow returned, nearly blinding to look at as Nether hunched down and tried to shield himself under his wings. ‘Nein... I can’t... Another one...’

With a lurch, the spirit stumbled forward, coughing violently before he retched, spraying bright green slime across the floor right in front of him. Melvise was instantly at his side, steadying him as Nether barely remained standing. There was barely any glow to his eyes, looking almost dead as Geer glanced back at the front door in worry and paranoid fear. Things were only getting worse the longer they waited.

“Get over here!” She snapped, stumbling slightly as the fallen leaned heavier against her side. “I’ve got a bed in the back but I can’t exactly carry him myself.”

Geer sighed, approaching as he grabbed his cloak and laid it down beside the two. “Put him on it. We can drag him there.”

The trip to the back of the clinic was rough on the ailing spirit, each bump of the stone floor making him moan slightly as Geer tried to ignore it. Holding the cloth tight between his teeth, he followed Melvise’s lead as she started to turn into an empty room. There was no way he could know what the fallen soul was feeling but he was conflicted. He could obey the mark branded into his skin and become its Chosen or rebel and let needless agony continue.

The two dragons stopped once inside the room, dropping the edges of the cloak. Stepping back to let her work, Geer watched as Melvise gently lifted Nether into the air with a soft pulse of weak telekinetic magic. Most dragons had some innate magical ability, no doubt a trait passed down over time by ancient spirits.

Placing the dark wyvern on a soft pallet, she draped a wing over his body as her eyes flickered to Geer for an explanation. Their journey to the back had been in silence but now he knew she wanted answers. Should he say what little he knew? Nether had entrusted him with the knowledge after all. Surely he wouldn’t mind...

Melvise kept her wing still for a few moments before lifting it away as she turned to address Geer who stood just inside the room in silent internal debate. “He’s comfortable now with no sign of distress. Now then, any idea of what’s going on?”

“His soul is cracking. All I know is there’s some poison rotting away his core but it’s never shown up like this. Normally he just has to hide away for a while before he gets himself back under control and returns.” Geer approached, placing a paw on her shoulder in concern. “I know of only one way to stop it but you won’t be happy.”

“I’m never happy seeing dragons or any other creatures in pain. Do what you must.”

They briefly nuzzled each other before Melvise left the room, stating she didn’t want to watch what would happen. Geer understood her reluctance but knew now without a doubt what he had been chosen to do. As much as he hated the idea that a simple mark could dictate his life, there was no other option but to accept the offer Nether had suggested nearly a week ago.

Nudging him gently, he jumped back out of the way as the spirit stirred with a raspy cough, more of the green slime dripping onto the edge of the cot. With a low hiss the barely visible irises stared up at him, the last of his earlier hesitation falling away. It was the right thing to do.

“Nether, I...” He started, only to be hushed by a trembling wingtip brushing over his snout.

‘Nein, mine Chosen. Nethreis is what you need should you be doing what I hope.’

Geer nodded, ashamed that he never asked but another cough from the spirit reminded him how important it was to get things moving sooner rather than later. “Of course, Nethreis... I accept you. By the Ancients I allow you control so that the vile poison robbing away your vitality and life may be halted. Should there ever come a time where I no longer are connected to you, only then will the soul’s cracking start to plague you once more.”

Nether blinked, alertness coming back over him as the words started to take effect. ‘What are you doing? Don’t do this out of some pity for me! I deserve to pay for my sins.’ He tried to rise, voice cracking as the sound of rapid claw clicks echoed down the hall towards where they were. ‘Leave me to rot! Save yourself before they...’

“Geer, there’s guards... They’re coming this way!”

Both the fallen and its chosen heard the frantic cry of the healer, stress making Geer even more convinced he was doing the right thing. He shook his head, reaching out towards the spirit with a forepaw. “You can trust me. Now let go.”

There was still hesitation in the Shadowling’s dark eyes. ‘What if I... hurt you? That would never be mine intention.’

“Why don’t we find out then?”

The process was strange for Geer, suddenly finding his mental space practically cut in half to accommodate a being he truthfully didn’t even know much more about other than scarce basics. Other than the bright surge of light that consumed the room the minute Nether accepted and stopped trying to fight, there was no sound other than his own breathing which remained even and calm. It felt much like welcoming a part of his family back home after a long journey, warmth tingling through his limbs as he closed his eyes.

‘Together as one,’ Nether hummed as magic flowed strongly through the veins they now shared. ‘A spirit is - in essence - an extension of nature’s purest magic. Use it to your advantage, mine Chosen. Warp reality as you see fit.’

He opened his eyes, the room’s color returning back to normal as his now crimson gaze flickered around. The rush of energy he experienced was far stronger than expected given Nether’s earlier frail form. Guards had been on the way, hadn’t they? Shouldn’t they have arrived....?

“Geer!” Her terrified scream snapped him out of his thoughts, immediately stepping out of the room into the hallway that would lead him back to the main entrance.

The darker navy drake cracked his neck as he walked, two blades of crimson light shimmering into existence beside him as a precautionary measure. Never had he felt this powerful before and it slightly terrified him, however his desire to protect Melvise overrode any fear. He was a servant of Sol!

Stopping right before he entered into the main room, he saw four drakes in armor surrounding the healer threateningly as a fifth, a larger red drake grilled her for information. He said nothing at first, lifting the blades as he sank into a defensive crouch, teeth bared.

“Let her go.”

“Oh, did you come to save her? Think again buddy.” The captain scoffed, turning to face him as his tail smacked into Melvise’s snout. “We’re after a certain wayward soul and won’t stop until we get it. Important task from the higher-ups you understand.”

He needed to think rationally about the situation, relaxing to his natural height before stepping out into the room as the fading sunlight of day briefly shone through the blades he mentally flicked at two of the soldiers. A faint, almost teasing smile ghosted across his jaw as he stared down the so-called leader. “Of course, Monsieur.”

Neither saw the spears of energy coming, both getting impaled through the heart as he quietly summoned another pair and waited for the reaction. Apparently seeing two of his underlings dead caused the big brute to take a closer look at him. The bright crimson gaze that should have been yellow... even the way he had freely used French.

“Capture him! The monster has a host now.”

There it was, that look he knew all too well as the coward retreated, forcing the ones who served under him to act in his place. Gleefully he strode forward, bits of magenta energy flickering across his back before two full size wings unfurled around him. Three pesky intruders left... nothing he couldn’t handle easily.

The remaining two guards leapt for him, years of training allowing him to sidestep while also impaling one into the wall behind him with a dull thud. Its companion, a younger drake possibly, used its own wings to pull up and avoid the thrown blade aimed at its heart.

“Geer, dude, calm down. We don’t want to-“

He tuned out the pitiful plea, rising up and grabbing hold of the adolescent’s armored neck to shut him up. “I’m not him, boy. He’s taken a temporary leave of absence, I’m afraid. Surely you understand that all your begging is just ticking me off at this point.”

Shoving his enemy up against the ceiling, he summoned another blade of magic and took it in his free paw, tracing the tip over the cracks in the drake’s protective headwear mindlessly. The fear he saw gave him such delight, eliciting a deranged chuckle at the thought of what other carnage he could create now that he was free from the effects of the poison that had kept him weakened. Although... the eyes looked familiar for a reason.

“You’re Reath, aren’t you? The brat who first woke me with endless questions.” He received no reply but, then again, he didn’t need one as the drake’s now frantic struggling confirmed his thoughts. “Ah, yes, I remember you quite well. Out of curiosity, how’d you end up with that dim-wit captain?”

There was no audible reply to his question - something he had honestly expected would be the case. Jabbing the tip of the blade through one of the drake’s eyes, he continued emotionlessly, “No answer huh? Fine by me, I could use a chance to carve up something for the first time in a... long while.”

His slight smirk at hearing the pained screams from his tortured captive showed only a fraction of the joy he was experiencing. The thrill of being in control was intoxicating... and very much welcomed after what he had gone through. Deciding he had done enough for the moment, he jerked the weapon back minutes later before it slipped from his grasp.

“Geer-“

Her cut off cry seemed to stir his slumbering host, much to his irritation. Snarling under his breath, he reluctantly let go of Reath as the rousing consciousness clashed with his own. What had happened to wake Geer? All he did was drop the... His eyes went wide, glancing down at the limp body on the floor below. A pool of blood was slowly forming around it from the large gash across its open neck and although its scales were difficult to make out against the crimson he somehow knew.

Melvise had been hit.

It was an accident, he tried to reason as he circled around and dropped to the floor, unable to silence the frantic screeching of Geer from filling his head.

‘No, no, no... Please tell me I’m dreaming! This can’t be real...’

He barely regarded the stunned captain as he neared, noticing the red drake scramble away in fear. Putting the threat from his mind, he gently grabbed her bleeding body and held it close, letting Geer’s turbulent emotions batter him until he could stand it no longer.

She was dead. He killed an innocent. Let there be another bloody stain upon his tortured soul for her untimely end.

An accident... Just a slip of his paw. He didn’t mean to... to hurt anyone like what had happened with his dear beloved.

‘I want control,’ Geer hissed, the presence of his alert consciousness pressing down on Nether’s mind much like a headache would.

‘You aren’t safe,’ he tried to reason, eyeing the still present captain who stood by the closed front door. There wasn’t any point in trying to manipulate the brute’s memory of the incident, considering he’d likely only make things worse.

Geer ignored him, battering uselessly against the invisible barrier that prevented his escape. ‘You don’t deserve the mercy I gave when I saved you from the poison leaking from your cracking soul. Why’d you do it? Was it to hurt me? Make me break under your oppressive rule?’

Nether shook his head in a silent refusal, glancing down at the limp form he partially held. ‘Nein... Just let me-‘

‘No! Why should I? Every word out of your mouth is a lie anyway. Just twisting things to suit you alone.’ The brutal honesty rammed into him, intending to break him but Nether had become accustomed to hearing such things during his time spent as a member of Sol’s enforcers.

Still he let her body fall, turning his gaze to the captain who was now trying to silently usher a traumatized Reath out the front door without alerting him. Snorting in amusement, he started forward, twin crimson blades shimmering into existence. There were two witnesses left and he never had cared for leaving someone alive so they could tell others.

‘Nether! Nether please! What do I have to say- to do even to make you see reason?’

‘Hush and go back to the dreamless slumber you should have been unable to wake from. I know I have only begun to tap into the raw magic you possess...’ He trailed off, wincing as a sharp pain tore through his chest. Trying to shake the odd occurrence off, he took another step forward only to start coughing.

Unable to find his breath, he could only watch as the two drakes fled, leaving him to stumble blindly against the doorframe. What was going on? Why couldn’t he breathe? Each wheezing attempt at trying to inhale oxygen felt like it was only a matter of time before he would start spitting up blood...

‘You will give her a proper burial... or this will get worse.’

Nether could barely lift his head from where it rested against the wood of the doorframe, letting the weapons he had created fade away. ‘Jeder Tag ein kleiner Tod... I should have known you had something to do with it...’

‘And stop lapsing into German whenever you want! I’m afraid my knowledge of the tongue is rather limited.’