#need guidance to make these ability checks (staying awake)

[fizzytoo]

shadowheart… shadowheart put your hand on the small of my back and cast guidance

[therapyforinsomnia]

A Good Cognitive Behavioral Therapy For Insomnia

Insomnia is a common sleep disorder that can lead to problems with daily functioning. There are many effective treatments available for insomnia without the use of medications, including cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT).

CBT can help you change behaviors and thoughts that are keeping you from getting a good night's rest. Unlike medication, which has side effects and can only be used for a limited time, CBT works long-term to teach you new habits that promote better sleep.

There are five main components of CBT-i that can help you get a good night's sleep: stimulus control, cognitive restructuring, sleep hygiene, relaxation techniques, and sleep consolidation. Your therapist will walk you through each of these elements and provide guidance on how to implement them.

Stimulus control involves breaking negative associations with your bedroom, bedtime routines, and sleep. This can help you to avoid consuming caffeine, eating in bed, and other behaviors that make sleeping harder. It also helps you to develop more restful sleep habits by avoiding the temptation to watch television or read in bed, which can encourage wakefulness and make it difficult to fall asleep.

Your therapist may also help you set a consistent bedtime and wake time, and develop a healthy sleep schedule. This can help you feel more rested during the day and reduce your need to rely on naps or other activities to catch up on sleep. Be sure to check out this website at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQ6xgDI7Whc for more info about sleeping.

You can also try to limit the amount of time you spend in bed, unless you have to. This helps you avoid allowing your mind to associate bedtime with anxiety, frustration, or discomfort.

If you do find yourself lying awake for more than 20 minutes or spending more than a few hours in bed, it's important to get up and find a quiet activity to do that doesn't require too much thinking. This might be reading a book, working on an art project, or watching TV.

Cognitive restructuring is the process of identifying and challenging inaccurate thoughts or beliefs about sleep, such as worrying that you will be late for work or that you won't be able to sleep if you go to bed too early. These thoughts can be difficult to break, but the process of cognitive restructuring can help you to challenge them and replace them with more accurate, healthier, and more realistic beliefs about sleep.

During your therapy sessions, you will write down your thoughts and feelings about sleep. Your Delta Sleep Coaching therapist will then evaluate your thoughts in an objective way.

Your therapist will also teach you ways to manage stress so that it does not interfere with your ability to sleep. This can include strategies such as deep breathing, meditation, yoga, or tai chi.

You will be asked to record your thoughts and feelings about sleep, such as if you worry that you will have trouble falling or staying asleep or if you are anxious about the consequences of not getting enough sleep. Your therapist will also help you develop strategies to avoid these worries in the future. See this service here!

[claralaclarividente-fics]

Life is Dream: A Rosegarden story

Chapter 1- Once Upon A Time

Ruby’s eyes watered as the crisp air breezed in front of her face as she fell.

She had watched as her two teammates swooped down the void, only to be swallowed by a golden glimmer. By then, time had slowed down, and she thought about what could happen. Only to be eclipsed by the thought of her sister alone, wherever she might have ended up, waiting for her.

The battle had been arduous, and she had had a hard time tracking down her friends’ whereabouts during most of it, but when it had all quieted down, when Nora had placed a hand on her shoulder with a million questions in her blue eyes, the roar of the answer thumped in her ears.

Penny had understood right there and then, hugging her friends one by one- ‘do what you have to do.’

Jaune nodded gravely, thinking that if he were in their position, he’d do anything to bring his teammates back. ‘We’ll take it from here on out.’

There was no guidance, no certainty of what could happen, of what laid beyond the darkness. But Blake was trembling, her grasp on Gambol Shroud whitening her knuckles. Weiss held on Blake, afraid she might jump alone.

The decision had been made.

A tingling sensation distracted her thoughts, and with a rueful wonder she realized golden shimmers began to dance on her skin.

‘This is it, then.’ She barely had the ability to think before lighting gold consumed her. She felt herself fall asleep and tiredly closed her eyes.

Oscar opened his eyes at the insistence of Emerald. She had probably been trying to shake him awake for a while now judging by the tender expression she tried to conceal with fake annoyance.

Sitting up on his bed, he noticed that the quarters he shared with the rest of his team was empty.

The sunlight streamed harshly through the willowing blinds, telling him that it was way too late to be sleeping.

“Should have woken you up earlier but you nearly fell asleep on your dinner last night, so we thought it would be better to let you sleep in a bit more.” She explained as she slid open her Scroll, checking the itinerary for the day.

Mind still heavy with sleep, Oscar placed his bare feet on the cold floor. The frigid clay under his soles roused him enough so he began mentally preparing for the day.

“What have we got today on the agenda?”

Emerald rolled her eyes and thrusted a paper bag into the teen’s hands.

“Breakfast rolls with honey. Seriously Oscar, you barely ate last night and now you’re insisting on intermittent fasting? This is why even Little Red’s taller than you!” She jeered at his sudden bouts of sleepiness over the past month.

Oscar smiled, pained. Everyone up until now had been walking on eggshells regarding team RWBY, hushing down when they mentioned them, fearing guilt and sadness. But Emerald, who in her pragmatism did what had to be done, and said what needed to be said, did not care too much about being gentle with expectations.

It was weird. A month had passed since the exodus from Mantle and Atlas, and the remaining members of team JNPR were crestfallen, yet tried to ignore the growing negativity stemming in their hearts. They treated Oscar with care, trying to ignore the four missing links in their lives.

Surprisingly, Emerald and Penny were the only ones keeping hope.

Penny was hopeful and reverent. She had been made of alloy, bolts and dolts. But now she wore shoes, sand was annoying, and she could taste food. Anything was possible in this wide world of theirs.

For Emerald, it was more about seeing impossible feats of ancient wonder, something in her ears whispering that there were more incredible feats of magic to be revealed in her time alive. She felt that third chances in life were rare, and thus, grasped at its stray hairs strongly.

So they stuck by Oscar as the task of repatriation began at dawn and ended at dusk.

It had been a grueling month at Vacuo, nobody was happy to have the Atlesians in their land. The citizens of Mantle fared better, they had been humbled when they huddled close together back at the crater in the Motherland. But the Atlas elite? They could not wait for Mistrali ships to come in hoards to get them to colder ground. They revolted, nothing was up to their elevated standards.

But Theodore was nothing but pragmatic, as all Vacuans were, and a night off in the deserts shut the bunch of them up. The ones who made it back that is.

“Alright, I’ll stuff my face with honeyed bread rolls and spiced tea if it makes you happy.” Conceded Oscar after he tied up his boots and threw on the airy cotton cape on his shoulders. He had decided on a lighter fabric for his stay in Vacuo, the gauzy green tunic emboldened with red and white trimmings, and his loose cotton pants were good enough for the mighty sun that beat on the roofs of the deserts.

Emerald smiled despite herself. She and Penny had taken on the big sister role whenever Nora wasn’t there to mother Oscar to hell and back. It had taken some time to get used to, but for anyone that was not privy to the Fall of Beacon, Emerald was just Oscar’s older sister, who emerged at the Fall of Atlas.

Over the course of the weeks she proved herself, as a true Vacuan, and as a true ally.

“C´mon then. There’s a bunch of convoy ships from Argus and Vale willing to take in some snooty idiots in exchange of supplies. Don’t make Nora wait for you more, she’s missed on her hugging quota for the morning.” With a pat on his head, Emerald walked Oscar to the door, and off they were.

The day blurred by Oscar’s eyes, now and again stifling an inconvenient yawn, but nevertheless, persisted during the course of his workday.

Every day there were less Atlesians to send off, and less Mantle citizens who wanted to leave. Like May tended to say, Mantle knows how to show their teeth.

The migratory system they had built recorded every single citizen that wanted to leave or stay under Theodore’s watchful eye. The controls were harsh since there was no way to know if Neopolitan had blended into the crowd at all. Given that Emerald told Theodore and every staff member in Shade that they were to expect Tyrian and Mercury sooner rather than later, security had been the top priority these days.

In between tending to the wounded and sick, delivering supply packets to the tents of refugees, and breaking up fights, Oscar was beat by dusk.

By that time, Theodore insisted Oscar to keep their sparring sessions until he felt that Oscar moved and fought with more fluidity than the day before.

“Squirt,” Theodore would say, “I know Oz has taught you some things, but he was a dandy and thought that battle was graceful matter.” The rippled headmaster would flex and show him how merciless battle was.

Under the strongman’s tutelage, Oscar’s body ached and grew. With Ozpin’s mentoring in his head, his magic grew and he felt something inside of his soul bubble to the surface.

But at the end of the day, when Jaune was sitting right by his side, and Nora was babbling a ten miles per second into his hearing canal, he felt his shoulders drop their tension. He shot a thankful glance at Ren, who was casually conversing with Emerald, but still kept an eye on the youngest of their group. Penny and Nora, two ginger parakeets with insurmountable force and joy lulled his thoughts, until he sagged forward and faceplanted in his tomato soup.

The resounding splash alerted Jaune who quickly pulled Oscar’s face from the cold soup by grabbing him by the collar of his tunic. Oscar’s lack of reaction, and his fluttering eyelids greeted the blond huntsman, flooding him with worry.

The chatter died.

Nora leaned the boy to her side and grabbed his tanned cheeks, wet with stock, and panicked at his quivering eyelids.

Semi-conscious as he were, Oscar saw the motions at the table like photographs forming a standstill gallery inside his mind, the sounds dull and his feeling numb.

Nora and Emerald crowding over him, worried expressions marring his face.

Penny and her cold hands framing his cheeks, her confused expression.

Jaune’s golden aura around his vision as it tunneled.

Lastly, Theodore’s frown before he closed his eyes and tumbled into sleep.

__________________________________________

Ruby tumbled out of bed confused.

Her heartbeat alert and scared, her eyes darted to the four walls surrounding her. Sweet and spices reached her nose, the colourful walls held handmade tapestries and idyllic paintings. The rug that had cushioned her fall was fluffy, and the blanket tangling in her legs felt like a familiar hug.

“Where am I?”

Ruby struggled to stand up, and once she did, she gasped at herself.

In front of her, a mirror held her image. But it was all wrong. She wore a frilly white dress, with white stockings, red lace and ribbons, and her hair was tied in two tiny pigtails. She looked adorable.

And she hated it.

“Where’s-“ she looked at the nearest wardrove, and opened its doors as fast as she could. Rifling through the cutesy dresses, she was taken aback by a familiar skirt.

Holding the black dress with the black combat skirt, she wondered how her Beacon outfit appeared in the room she was in.

She stopped dead on her tracks.

“I’m not in Atlas anymore, am I?”

Clutching the dress to her chest, she slid down to the carpeted floor. She felt a bubble of panic come over her as she remembered the last events of her life.

“Right, Neo struck Yang, and Yang… She fell. We fought Cinder. And she died. I think. Then we…jumped.”

Ruby looked her hands over, turning them this way and that, as if they were given to change at any moment now.

“And-“ Ruby wheezed, close to hyperventilation. She trembled as she remembered flashes of the fight against Cinder, how Blake evolved her Semblance and fought as three copies of herself, about Neo striking the wrong Blake, and being fallen by the original one. Cinder taunting how she used Jinn, revealing their plans. Penny fell to the golden plateau, and then in a fit of rage, silver.

No more Cinder. Probably.

Her heart running like a wild animal under her chest, she took deep breaths as she tried to calm down. She rubbed the black fabric between her thumb and pointer finger, the texture was light to the touch. In the bottom frill, she found her name embroidered by her own hand. It was supposed to be comforting, but it only fueled her confusion.

A few tears threatened to spill, but then several knocks on the door startled her.

“Darling! Breakfast is ready!” a familiar voice called out to her outside the door.

In a haze, Ruby stood up and let the dress fall from her hands. She marched to the door and opened it in a swift motion, scaring the poor woman in front of it.

“Little Red! What sort of behaviour is this!?” An old woman that looked and sounded like María Calavera chided her, hands on her hips as she glowered annoyed at the teen.

“María! It’s you!” Elated, Ruby swooped in to hug the woman, who patted her back confusedly.

“Oh dear, now you’re calling your grandma by her first name too! Did you hit your head when you woke up this morning? What’s wrong with you?” Not-María held Ruby at arms length, checking her head for any injuries.

“Huh?”

Not-quite-María tutted, before guiding Ruby by the hand to the kitchen area of the cottage they seemed to be in.

“Little Red, you seldom ever visit me, and now you’re calling me by my name! Your mother hasn’t been disciplining you as she should!”

More confused than ever, Ruby sat on the stool offered by Not-Really-María.

The old woman sighed before plopping a plate of sausages, beans with crema and tortillas in front of her.

“Repeat after me, Little Red: Abuela María. Ah..Boo-Eh-Lah. Abuela.” Ruby looked at Abuela María in mild shock.

“Abuela?”

The Abuela María nodded satisfied and patted her hand.

“Now, after we finish mending that cape of yours, please give this basket of goodies to your mother for me. Oh! And thank her for the nice fabrics she sent with you, will you?”

Still starstruck, Ruby stared at Abuela María, not yet understanding anything that was happening in front of her.

“My…mother?”

Abuela María nodded, quite exasperatedly at her not-quite-granddaughter. She flipped her gray-haired braid over her shoulder and began repairing the red cape as she mumbled about ‘youth these days’.

“Yes, dear. Summer Rose. My daughter, your mother.”

More confused than anything, Ruby brought her hand up and mercilessly slapped her cheek. Abuela María looked at Ruby curiously, halting her sewing for a moment before resuming.

“But-but!” Ruby stuttered, holding her stinging cheek under her palm. “We don’t look anything alike!”

“My dear!” began Abuela María. “Silver eyes run in our family! Look!”

Abuela María removed her thick rimmed glasses and pointed at her eyes.

But all Ruby could see was a puckered red bruise, swollen and hurt. It slashed from her right temple to her left, there was not much to be said about eyes, as there were none.

Feeling not quite in a dream, but more in a bizarre nightmare, she stood up, the wooden stool clattering behind her.

Abuela María, with her glasses still removed and acting normally, bit off the last thread on the eye of her needle and folded the red cape neatly, offering it to Ruby.

Smiling sweetly, but with her disturbing red scarring across her visage, she gifted Ruby a basket filled with fruits, cheeses and breads, and pushed her through the cabin’s threshold.

Ruby looked petrified at the old lady that looked like her mentor but was nothing like her.

“Take this basket to your mother, will you? Be careful of the Big Bad Wolf, don’t let it bite you!”

Laughing merrily, the old woman closed the door on Ruby, leaving her alone in the cabin’s porch.

Jarred and perturbed, Ruby walked away from the cabin thoughtlessly, and into the winding roads that crossed the forest.

Only once she reached a small ravine, did she sit on the forest floor and pushed to her face the cape that smelled like home, like Yang and Qrow and Weiss and Blake and everyone she knew, did she weep.

For the longest time she cried, but after a while she felt her tears dry up, her shoulders stopped their heaving, and her heart dulled to a somber beat.

Ruby wiped her tears with the cape and splashed her face with the cool water from the ravine. She looked at her reflection, and disliking the pigtails pulling the hair at her nape, she tugged at the elastics and ruffled her hair. She bunched the skirt in her fists.

Annoyed at her dress, she looked down to it expecting to see white ruffles on white lace, she was caught off guard when she found herself wearing a black version of the dress she had woken up into.

As much as she marveled at this feat of reality writing itself, she feared it.

Taking one last look at her reflection, and tugging on the hood on her cape, she trudged into the deep forest, following the map she was given and hoped for the best.

[stachmousworld]

Avenge me tomorrow (Ch.10)

Thanks to everyone who sent me messages and didn't despair to see another chapter. I have already two chapters fully written and I'm onto the 12th one. So, yeah. Sorry for the wait, my medication kind of made me numb and sucked all of my creativity.

Also, I have reached 400 followers! *cry profusely* Thanks so much to everyone who followed me.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Préviously: Thea was attacked by Jean during the last test with Hank. Nemesis and Thea mentally travelled to somewhere to Vormir and followed a little girl who carried the soul stone. As she sacrificed herself and dropped it from the mountain, Nemesis seized, then Thea, who couldn't let them suffer in silence.

Words: 2400

TW: blood, mention of self harm

Hank wasn’t okay at all. He rubbed his temples and focused on his breathing.

Inhale. Exhale.

The buzzing noise coming from the machine next to him wasn’t soothing anymore. He felt each second go by and his heart strained to remain calm.

There had been times when he thought he’d give up. Times of uncertainties like this one. It was what the X-Men had to deal with every day. It was what the cape of hero and superhero meant for them. A burden getting heavier every time they fought a villain.

Were they going to make it? Would they able to save everyone? Was it worth it at the end?

Their powers meant a responsibility that none of them had wanted. Other normal civilians expected them to save them and use all their abilities for the good cause, but what about what they wanted. To live a normal life in a world where people would welcome them without judgement. Or at least they’d try to hide it.

Hank shook his head and rubbed his temples.

He dreaded the moment when the newest generation would have to choose too. To stay here with them and become a x-men or go outside, in the real world and hide what they truly were forever.

Many chose to stay. Now more than ever. The mutant representatives in Congress, besides him, had seen how sour the situation was turning. After Sokovia, general Ross has tried to rope the president into signing the Accords. A new way to control mutants and to rate them as animals from what they consider being the most powerful to the least.

There was no doubt that Ross wanted to gather as much intel as he could in order to use them. Like a Pokemon trainer, he’d have all of their personal information and powers in hand ready to single them out and use them as war machines.

“Are you okay?”

Hank repressed a sigh and smiled tiredly at Scott, who looked as exhausted as him.

“I could ask you the same.”

Scott shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. Although he couldn’t see his eyes, Hank could tell he was staring at Jean’s unconscious body.

“You can approach her if you want.”

Scott hesitated. He started moving forward before stopping himself as if there was an invisible wall in front of him. Hank looked at him quizzically.

“Logan told me what happened,” Scott whispered. He averted his eyes and uncrossed his arms.

Hank waited for him to continue.

“Is it true that she tried to kill the girl?”

Hank kept his silence.

“Fuck, Jean…” Scott shook his head and walked closer to her. This time he didn’t stop until he was next to her bed. He sat next to her and held her hand. “Is the girl, okay?”

“Physically, yes.”

“And mentally?”

Hank stood up slowly. He rearranged Xavier’s cover on his body and walked to the door.

“She came here looking for answers and a refuge. All she found was someone who attempted to kill her twice.”

Hank closed the door behind him and walked to Xavier’s personal office. It was by far the most comfortable place in the academy and the closest to the infirmary. He didn’t want to leave to his own quarter and miss if something happened.

He let his legs transport him to the couch near the French windows and he fell on his back. He groaned when his back cracked and tried his usual deep breathing exercise. He inhaled and exhaled trying to let his thought go and find his safe place.

As he was about to find his peace, a familiar fire-like cercle slowly appeared in the middle of the office.

Hank closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“Need some?”

Hank stretched his hand to where Dr. Strange would be and grabbed a box filled with chocolates. His favorites. Made in Swiss with hazelnut and salted caramel.

Hank opened the box and popped a chocolate. He groaned as the sugary flavor burst on his tongue. He also mentally thanked Strange for letting him enjoy his snack before getting to the reason of his visit. If Hank knew anything about Strange, whatever he had to say would be terrible, would demand probably more efforts and involvement than Hank liked and there will be no true gratification. Unless they had to save the world…

He chuckled at the thought.

No one went to the X-Men to save the world.

Nope.

The Avengers maybe, but never the X-Men. They were relegated to earthly threats. And by earthly he meant the US, and if Ross had his way they’d be already on a leash as he’d send them overseas intruding into countries they had no business to be in and to spy on foreign government secrets.

“Lay it on me, Doc.” He said followed by a deep sigh.

When Strange left him, Hank fell easily asleep. A deep, perturbated sleep where a huge serpent roamed the universe, eating each and every single planets and stars until it got to the Earth.

Hank stood still, petrified. The dream repeated itself on a loop. It didn’t matter how many times he tried to escape, fight back…everything felt so real and vivid. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, the fear bubbling in him ready to burst and the tension in his muscles as the invincible threat arrived. How could they defend their planet against this behemoth of a being?

No matter how many times he tried to control these dreams. Death. Destruction. Pain. All of these awaited them.

Unless…his last dream shifted into something new. Hank hoped it was something different. He only needed a hint of hope and he’d hold on tight. As tight as he could until the end. Because if there were a way for the Earth to be saved. He’d do anything.

Although Strange had sounded skeptical about any positive outcome, Hanks last dream anchored him.

The serpent hovered in front of the Earth mouth wide open. As it was to eat the planet, a feminine body appeared in a flash in front of him. Them. Anyone there to witness humanity’s doom.

The light surrounding her dimmed enough for Hank to recognize her. As he breathed out her name, the serpent stroke.

Thea, eyes stuck on Hank, raised one arm toward the serpent and batted it away. Just like that. As it was a mere insect. Its disappearance was sudden and without any commotion. Hank could hear screams of joy around him, but he didn’t care. All of his attention was on Thea.

She dropped her arm down, interlaced her fingers together and breathed into her two intertwined hands.

Hank swore he could hear her breath from within him. He felt the warm breath on his skin and his lungs something warm and delicious expanded in his chest. Hank felt tears coming down his cheeks. He let them roll as long as the felicity he felt could travel through him forever.

When he woke up, there were a few dried tears on his face and he wore a smile he didn’t remember having. First thing after checking on Jean and Xavier, Hank went to Thea’s room only to see her already awake. He stood at the door, feeling awkward. The dream contrary to his usual ones didn’t fade away as soon as his wake up and he felt a bit bad.

Thea was here for guidance, not for him to put all of his hope. He watched unsure as she examined her hands thoroughly. Like she’d never seen them before. Thea rose her hands in front of her face and turned them, eyes staring at each digit, intrigued.

The longer he watched her, the more he felt like an intruder. He stopped himself from fidgeting and put his hands in his pockets.

Then, Hank cleared his throat.

He didn’t expect Thea’s violent reaction. She jumped out of the bed and fell on the floor. Hank ran by her side only to be met by a strange scene. Thea was now staring at her legs like she didn’t know she had some before. She approached slowly her hand to her thigh and caressed her skin softly. The hand barely met her thigh that she flinched away.

“Thea?” Hank asked, worried. He watched her face carefully. The lack of oxygen in her brain may have cause amnesia. Something that didn’t appear in his thorough test. He cussed at himself. He should have seen it come. No one could live through that much trauma in one day and achieve a 100% recover.

Thea was still prone on the floor. She didn’t reply nor acknowledged his presence. Hank reached her slowly, trying not to make her jump and waved his hand in front of her eyes. The reaction was immediate. Thea looked at him quickly and stared at him, confused. Almost as confused as he was feeling. Only, she didn’t seem to recognize him at all.

“Thea? Do you know who I am?”

She looked at his lips, eyebrows furrowed. She opened her mouth to talk, which had Hank already sighing in relief. A small sound barely escaped her mouth before she pressed both of her hands on her mouth. Her entire face morphed from confusion to shock. She leaped to her feet. Or at least tried to. She seemed like a baby doe trying to walk for the first time. She wasn’t stable on her feet nor looked as if she understood the simple concept of walking.

Hank raised his arm to help her in case she fell but she managed to go to the bathroom alone. She stopped dead in her track in front of the mirror. She was half-way in the bathroom, standing still.

Hank stayed near her in case…in case…he didn’t know. She could have a meltdown, fall and hit her head on the floor or…

Hank pressed one of his hands on his chest and coached himself to breath deeply. Now wasn’t the moment for a panic attack. He could do it.

The seconds stretched to minutes. Thea was frozen, staring at her reflection straight at her reflection, hands balled next to her body, and Hank was on the verge of giving up and leading her back to her room. He walked closer to her. Thea surged forward, closer to the mirror and grabbed her hair pulling it tightly. She grumbled unintelligently. She touched, patted her cheeks, lips, eyelashes, making Hank cringe.

He rushed to her side and restrained her hands. As soon as he touched her, she went limp. He took a second to take his breath and pulled her closer.

Then everything went to shit. It all happened in a blur. Thea shrieked pushing Hank away. She used Hank momentary lack of reaction to get to the cabinet underneath the sink and grabbed a pair of scissors. She barely considered the tool before raising it to her neck.

“No! Wait!” He let out, unable to move.

She didn’t spare him a look and started slicing her neck. A small rivulet of blood traveled on her dark skin.

Hank made a move to stop her. A blue blur appeared next to Thea and teleported her. Hank swirled around when he heard Diablo reappearing behind him.

“Hank! Help me! I can’t restrain her alone.” He grunted under the effort. Diablo was kneeling on the bed and pining Thea by the hands, letting her legs totally free to jerk him away.

Hank didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he could.

“Fuck! What’s happening here?” Logan said as he ran into the room. He didn’t stop to take in the scene and went directly to help Diablo.

They restrained her in a matter of minutes.

Logan and Diablo discussed together over what to do while. Or that’s what Hank thought they discussed about. All he could hear was his heart and Thea’s shrieks. Everything else felt blur. He didn’t even dare move in case he’d faint or worse, have a meltdown in the middle of the room.

He didn’t even notice that Diablo and Logan led him outside the room and back to Xavier’s office. The silence in the corridor was deafening. He could still hear Thea’s scream and could still see her blood on her skin.

“Here? Drink this?” Hank grabbed the glass from Logan and drank everything in one go. The bitterness of the alcohol didn’t made him flinch. He barely could taste the liquid on his tongue, let alone feel its effect.

“I’ll…I’ll check on Xavier and Jean,” Diablo said quickly.

“Tell Hel’ and Malicia to check up on Thea.”

“B-both?”

“Hel’ is the best when it comes to healing and combat, so she’ll be able to restrain Thea in case anything goes south. And Malicia would be able to take Thea’s powers, were they to manifest. Last thing we want is a powerful and traumatized enhanced running around.”

“But what…” Diablo swallowed. “Wha-what about their “animosity”?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “animosity?”

“It has come to my attention that they had a lover spat and none of them wanted to work together. It never ends well.”

Logan raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I fucking hate these kids,” he muttered, then louder. “I don’t care Diablo. Tell them their asses are on the line and since Xavier and Jean are out, I’m the director here.”

Diablo nodded quickly. “Do I have to use your words specifically or…”

Logan growled, making Diablo squealed and disappear.

“Should have stayed in my forest.” He muttered to himself. “Lover spat, my ass. They love to fight as much as they love to make up…’ve to burn my eyes to forget…”

Logan shuddered and grimaced. “Argh, I think I need it more.” He said, taking a sip on from the bottle of rum. “This place is at that of becoming a brothel. I’m not paid enough.”

Hank huffed in agreement. The sound brought Logan’s attention to him. He crouched in front of the couch where they sat Hank down and peered into his eyes for a few seconds before nodding.

“Whenever you’re ready…” Logan muttered as he sat down on the floor and leaned back on his elbows, legs crossed.

Hank’s brain raked everything that happened for the past few hours and decided to start with Strange. It was the easiest that way.

When he opened his mouth, the sun was already high in the sky, Logan was now laying on the rug, awake, as if it was normal, and the screams were now faded in his mind.

“Dr. Strange came to see me today…”

Tags: @thedarkplume @jojodojo02 @the-weird-kid-on-the-block @kaileshay @jenahbell @allthingsuniquelybeautiful

​  @cobym @byb51097 @putinovertime @victoriastefanie04 @readermia @athickgirlsblog @simply-heaven @drsoundcloud @imkindanuts @t-bag2 @gigitheclown @candyloid @ravynnn-12 @deepmuffinspymaker @putinovertime

[cockasinthebird]

Spending time beneath the stars - Best Friends AU Part 1

06:08am

The sun sits grinning in the early morning sky, shining brightly down at the drowsy and utterly listless flock of students, as they stagger about with their suitcases in tow, standing in long lines to whichever bus they've been assigned to for this mandatory little adventure.

A "fun start of the year" senior trip to Hoffman Lake, to sleep in tents for 3 nights and really "rough it out" as a last hurrah before embarking on their last year in Hawkins High. Or so the guidance counselors and teachers and the principal said last Monday at the first school assembly of the year.

Yet somehow one Billy Hargrove manages to stand with a straight back, head held high, and a wide grin with perfect teeth, as he helps some poor, exhausted girls with their luggage.

They giggle at how his exposed biceps flex as he lifts up the baggage and throws it into the storage compartment, then lowers their sunglasses a bit to bash their long lashes at him and chime out a blithe, 

"Thank you, Billy." 

"No problem, ladies," his response near chivalrous as he gives them that panty-dropping smile he's so famous for. 

And as they reluctantly step aside to keep the line moving, Tommy H shoves his way past some other poor student to get all up in Billy's face with two suitcases - his own and Carol's. 

"Hey if you need any condoms on this trip, or maybe the tent alone for a bit, just say the word and I'll drag Steve off to somewhere," Tommy says with barely any discreet insinuation, nodding in the direction of the two girls who nearly trip over themselves as they stare back. 

Billy chuckles and gives them a light wave, "If Harrington even shows up." 

The bus leaves at 6:30, and at 6:11 there's still no sign of the aforementioned trust fund kid. 

"Maybe his daddy bought him a ticket out of this trip," Tommy groans, and if Billy didn't know any better, he'd have guessed there was a hint of jealousy to those words. "Who the fuck even decides to go camping for a senior trip? In goddamn tents!" 

"If you're gonna bitch and whine like this the entire trip, I'm gonna kick you out of the tent to go sleep with the mosquitoes and bears," Billy grunts out with irritation and exertion as he helps with more bags.

He's usually not known for being charitable, but getting to show off like this in front of all his lethargic peers is a bit of a rush.

Billy gets up at 5 every morning to go for a jog, preferably also a swim during summer, lift a bit of weights, take a scalding hot shower, then spend far too long on his hair, picking out the right shirt and deciding on rings. So really this is no issue at all, and by God if he doesn't flaunt that with a blindingly fresh show of teeth. 

"You… You don't think there's actual bears out there, do you?" Tommy seems more awake now than ever, rubbing the back of his neck and brown eyes wide open. 

"Tommy," Billy says with a stern and oh so serious tone, "Either you become useful and help me here, or you can go fuck off to your girlfriend." 

"Alright geez!" Tommy takes a tone of great offense, but keeps a smile to hopefully stay friendly with Billy, then vanishes into the crowd to probably find Carol and save them all some seats on the bus, Billy doesn't care.

It takes 9 more bags stuffed underneath the bus when Billy grows too impatient and finally checks his watch - the one Steve gave him a few months ago for his birthday - and it reads 6:23.

When it ticks into 6:24, the all too familiar brown BMW drives through the parking lot, and Billy has to restrain himself from appearing too eager as he pushes through the crowd of yawning classmates, and stops up perfectly in front of the passenger seat to Steve’s ride.

In one spirited move, he opens up the car door and leans down with the most irritating, shit-eating grin, as he looks at the barely alive Steve Harrington. “Good morning, princess.”

Steve’s stare is cutting, the bags under his eyes heavy and dark, and he can’t even respond with more than a drowsy grunt; his head lolls against the seat as he sinks lower down, oh so defeated. 

Out the driver’s seat jumps Ms Henderson, fresh and beaming with joy as always, no matter the hour of the day. “Oh good morning, Billy!” she chimes and walks briskly to the trunk.

“Morning Ms Claudia,” Billy responds with his undeniable charm. “Stevie here staying up too late again?”

“It’s terrible, really! Him and Dusty stayed up all night playing some new game on that Nintendo box thing!” she sighs with feigned irritation and rolls her eyes, but with a smile that definitely means boys will be boys.

“Why are you so… awake,” Steve asks rhetorically and his feet land with loud thuds onto the pavement.

With what little energy he possesses, Steve hauls his ass out of the car and stands slumped forward in front of Billy’s energetic pose, hands on his hips and a teasing smile that only adds to the irritation of the far more fatigued boy, whom frowns beneath his unkempt mane.

“You know I’m up by 5 every morning; gotta keep fit for all my admirers,” Billy laughs all too loud, and enjoys the way Steve winces at it.

Who then promptly crashes his forehead against Billy’s broad shoulder, groaning out a long, “Ssssssshut up, fuck.”

Which shocks Billy more than it probably should - they’ve been best friends for what feels like all their lives, and in those years they’ve definitely touched each other a fair share, but still, whenever Steve is the one to initiate it, there’s a pang of heartache deep in Billy’s very core, igniting something all too hopeful.

Yet he braves on, slings an arm around Steve and brings him to the back of the beemer.

Where Billy helps Claudia lift up the heavy weekend bag from the trunk, undoubtedly filled with all those thousands of products that Steve uses daily; he even carries an extra bag to PE and practice because of it all. 

She thanks him breathlessly, then steers toward Steve, cups his depleted expression in her hands, and softly says, “Be safe, ok? Wear sunscreen, drink plenty of water, don’t go out too deep in the lake, and if you see a bear, pee your pants! The smell will deter it from mauling you!”

Steve nods and smiles, mumbling out a row of yes’s.

“Good, I’ll be right here to pick you up on Monday, 2pm, alright?” And with the most gracious show of maternal love, she guides him lower till she can reach his forehead, and plants a kiss there.

And Billy has to look away at that - pretends to scan the crowd for someone or something, and pushes his sunglasses further up in hopes it’ll disguise his painful jealousy of having someone love you like that, of having such a kind hearted mother figure in your life.

“Take good care of him!” she says, directed at Billy, who flashes a convincing smile, and responds cheerfully with a,

“Will do, Ms Henderson!” And he reaches out to pull Steve along. “Come on, pretty boy, or they’ll leave without us!”

“Would that really be so bad?” Steve whines and relies too heavily on Billy’s ability to keep them both upright.

“What, King Steve too good to sleep in the woods?” Billy chuckles as he drags along the suitcase, really doing all the work between them, but for Steve he doesn’t mind.

They’re the last two to board the bus, every single seat filled except for somewhere near the back, where Tommy Hagan waves one hand to ensure that the popular kids stick together, his other arm around Carol whose make-up makes her seem more awake than the way she smiles.

Billy pushes past Steve to walk in front, ready to fight even him for the window seat, and he throws himself onto the bench - scoots all the way up to make sure there’s plenty of room for Steve.

“Hey, Harrington, nice bags,” Tommy mocks like a ‘friend’ would, and points to his eyes.

“Yeah, what are those, Gucci?” Carol quips and laughs at how completely drained Steve is, as he tips his head to the side to look at them both across the way.

“Har har,” he says dryly and is quick to turn away from their jesting ridicule, only to be faced by Billy who laughs all the same. “Don’t even.”

“What?” Billy’s voice incredulous, grinning all mean, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve hums out in disbelief.

From the backpack he carried on for the long trip to Hoffman Lake, an hour and a half drive from Hawkins, Steve pulls out a walkman and headset. And he keeps staring straight into Billy’s wonderfully blue eyes, as he lifts up the headset and places it firmly on his ears.

“You really gonna do this to me?” Billy feigns offense as he watches how Steve’s pink lips spread in a smirk. “Just leaving me alone for the ride there?”

And without looking away, Steve turns on the walkman, the mixtape inside whirring into action, and Karma Chameleon starts playing just loud enough for Billy to hear at this short distance from where he leans against the window.

He moves his lips without words, pretending to talk.

“I can’t hear you,” Steve says, not realizing that there’s nothing being said, but notices how Billy’s chest shakes with a chuckle.

He then tilts his head backwards, eyes slipping closed, unaware - or perhaps just oblivious to the fact - that Billy keeps looking at him, admiring the view, whose heavenly gaze smooths down his seatmates weary form, to where there’s barely any space between them, thighs only inches apart from touching.

Perhaps Billy moves his leg; guiding his knee till it’s met with Steve’s own, and when the other doesn’t jerk away at the contact, they stay like that. And maybe Billy is a bit disappointed, or some semblance of it, that Steve is too tired to sit and talk with him on the ride to the camping grounds, but there’s no doubting that the two of them will be sharing a tent together for the next three nights, so they’ll find time to hang out.

Although it’s not as if they haven’t just spent nearly every hour available together during summer break, when neither of them had work or family matters to attend to, that is. Steve had spent three weeks visiting family in Italy, and Billy spent two in California, where all he thought of was Steve Steve Steve. Wonders if Steve thought about him, too.

Billy remains far off in his own thoughts as the bus starts moving, the trees outside passing by quickly, minutes ticking into eternity, songs blasting out Steve’s headset, when he feels an unexpected heat to his right.

He looks to find Steve’s head resting on his shoulder, asleep, drool threatening to drip from his slack mouth onto Billy’s naked arm. And there's an uncomfortable fluttering in his chest, all too familiar, paired horribly with an aching in his hand to hold the other's, the fresh scent of expensive shampoo intoxicating; inviting him to lean in and get a good whiff. And Billy would have, were it not for the fact that they're surrounded by loud mouthed peers, and the way Steve leans against him is already a dangerous affair. 

And Steve’s cheek burns against Billy’s bare shoulder, sweaty skin on skin, making him hyper aware of every breath he feels tickle down his arm hairs. 8 years and he’s still just as sensitive to it all. It’s pathetic and embarrassing, but no one seems to notice, so maybe it’s also ok.

In the row next to them, Carol and Tommy sit just as close as Billy and Steve, albeit a bit more intimately so with their fingers laced together and Tommy occasionally pressing kisses into the ginger hair. And Billy feels jealous at that, at being able to be affectionate with the person you love so openly without fear or shame, but that’s just not meant for him.

Which he’ll hopefully someday come to terms with. Until then though, he’ll allow himself to enjoy what little he can. Like the way Steve leans against him now. With a lovelorn sigh, Billy tears his eyes from that mess of a hair and moled skin, to instead stare out into the blur of green and brown that flies by, and hopefully time will do just the same.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #73: Santa Alter

This has been one of the longest weeks I’ve ever seen. I need a little Christmas, now. Fortunately, there’s one servant who can help with that, Santa Alter! Deliver presents to good kids, and excaliburings to bad ones, all from the back of your very own flying reindeer! (Reindeer sold separately)

Check out the breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Race and Background

Despite everything, Artoria is still a Human, giving her +1 to all stats. She may have the holy grail and the spirit of Christmas knocking around inside her, but that doesn’t change her physically. She’s a Knight of the Order, giving her proficiency with Persuasion and Arcana. 

Stats

Make sure your Strength is high, you’ll need it to lug around that giant sword. To be Santa, you have to be good at telling if someone’s naughty- Wisdom is a must. Your personality has mellowed out a little bit, but the prestige of being Santa means you still have some Charisma. Your Dexterity is lower than I’d like it- it might be a good idea to stay in your old spirit origin’s armor, maybe just wear a festive hat instead. Your Constitution is also pretty low, but we’re dumping Intelligence. You didn’t have much formal education, and what you did have came from Merlin.

Class Levels

1. Cleric 1: Santa is a shining light in the darkest part of the year so if you want to be him, a Twilight cleric is a good place to start. This gives you proficiency with Heavy Armor and Martial Weapons, Wisdom and Charisma saves, and Insight and Religion checks. You’ve got to be able to suss out someone’s true intentions, no matter how much charm magic they throw your way.

First level clerics can prepare Spells using their Wisdom Modifier. Twilight Clerics also get Eyes of Night, giving them 300′ of darkvision to pick out houses on your flight. You can also use your bonus action to give any number of creatures up to your wisdom modifier this darkvision for 1 hour. You can give your vision away once per long rest, or by burning spell slots. You can also bestow a Vigilant Blessing, giving one creature at a time advantage on their next initiative check as an action.

For your cantrips, Thaumaturgy is a great utility spell, and Guidance is a little gift you can give party members to help with checks. Not all your gifts are nice though, so grab Toll the Dead too.

You can prepare any spell you can cast on long rests, but you also get your domain spells, Faerie Fire and Sleep. The latter will definitely help keep any wandering children from noticing you at work. For other spells, Sanctuary and Cure Wounds are more gifts for the party, and Bane and Wrathful Smite are more “gifts” for your enemies.

2. Cleric 2: Second level clerics can Channel Divinity, giving you one of two options once per short rest. You can choose to Turn Undead like most clerics, or create a Silent Night with your Twilight Sanctuary. This uses your action to create a sphere of twilight around you for up to a minute. If a creature ends their turn in the sphere, they can gain one of two effects (or neither, if they’ve been naughty): they gain 1d6 Temporary HP, or you end one charm or frightening effect on them.

3. Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells, including your domain spells Darkness and Invisibility, for Santa-level stealth. For more spells, Aid can increase your very small health pool, as well as the health of your party, and Continual Flame will create a light to help those members without darkvision. If you want to power game later, call Hold Person a freezing spell to hold a person in place and get guaranteed criticals on them.

4. Cleric 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become a War Caster, letting you cast spells as attacks of opportunity, gain advantage on concentration saves, and cast somatic spells while holding weapons. There are other ways to cast spells while holding a sword, but his is faster. Plus, the advantage is really useful, given your low constitution. 

Also, pick up Mending to help repair any toys before you give them out. You don’t want to be giving people broken presents, do you? Wait, maybe you do...

5. Cleric 5: At fifth level, your Turn Undead can now Destroy Undead of CR rating 1/2 or less. You can also cast third level spells, like Leomund’s Tiny Hut if you want to build an igloo or Aura of Vitality for some cheap healthcare. For non domain spells, Tongues will help you become the international figure you are, and Bestow Curse is the next big advancement in naughty gifting technology. Why give coal when you can give curses?

6. Cleric 6: You can now use your Channel Divinity twice per rest, and your footprints are now the Steps of Night. If you’re standing in dim light or darkness, you can use your bonus action to gain a flying speed for one minute. You can use this a number of times per long rest equal to your proficiency bonus. (It’s been a while since last Christmas, but I’m pretty sure the reindeer is supposed to fly, right? Anyway.)

7. Warlock 1: Warlocks are kind of like clerics but edgier, and you’re all about that edge. If Santa was going to be any patron, my money would be on him being a Celestial; all about light and joy, that one. Taking the fat man up on his pact gives you Pact Magic, a separate set of spell slots, and Spells that are cast with Charisma. You also get a Healing Light, a couple d6 you can throw around to heal your allies as a bonus action. You regain your maximum of 1+ your warlock level dice after long rests, and can use up to your charisma modifier dice at once.

For cantrips, you get Light and Sacred Flame for free, but you also get Eldritch Blast to start up your Excalibur, and Prestidigitation to actually make some toys for once.

For spells, Expeditious Retreat will help you run like Rudolph, and Armor of Agathys will put a winter chill on any attackers.

8. Warlock 2: You get two Invocation at this level, but save one for level 3, it’s worth it. Right now though, you can grab Agonizing Blast to power up your Eldritch blast just a bit more. (If you want to be more true to character, replace this with Armor of Shadows so you can fight in a Santa suit.) You also get a Hellish Rebuke, in case they didn’t get the message with the ice last level.

9. Warlock 3: When you take the Pact of the Blade, you can summon a magical version of Excalibur as an action. You should also pick up Improved Pact Weapon using that invocation from last level to make it even stronger and count as a spell focus for you. Grab Mind Spike to deal a bit of psychic damage, and always know the target’s location for up to an hour. It doesn’t say if you know if they are sleeping or awake, but it’s probably safe to assume you do.

10. Warlock 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Strength for a better sword experience. For your spells, Minor Illusion will help you make some larger presents as long as the kids are gullible, and Crown of Madness is simply fun for all ages.

11. Cleric 7: Pick up your 4th level domain spells at this level. Aura of Life will keep those crybabies in your party alive, and Greater Invisibility will let you stab and sneak at the same time. For more spells, Freedom of Movement might let you go up a chimney.

12. Cleric 8: Use this ASI to round up your Constitution and Wisdom scores for stronger spells and stronger not dying. Destroy Undead now hits CR 1 creatures, and you gain a Divine Strike. Once per turn, you can add 1d8 Psychic damage to your weapon attacks. Maybe give them a doll while attacking them, that’ll throw them off their game.

13. Cleric 9: Ninth level clerics get 5th level spells. Your domain spells are Circle of Power, giving the give of evasion, and Dream will help you find the perfect gift for a target. To terrify them, if you want, dealing some psychic damage and disrupting their long rest. For even more spells, Scrying helps you actually tell if someone is sleeping or awake.

14. Cleric 10: At this level, you can call down the power of Santa himself in the form of Divine Intervention. One tenth of the time, he’ll help you out in a way the DM approves. You can use this once per day, but if it succeeds you’ll have to wait a week. You also get Word of Radiance. Sing a carol, blast some enemies, it’s a fun time.

15. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks get access to third level spells like Fly. Now you can slap this on a reindeer for authenticity, or keep your flight ability during the day. You also get a new invocation: Eldritch Smite turns your Excalibur into an EXcalibur, eating a spell slot to add force damage to your attacks.

16. Warlock 6: Sixth level Celocks are Radiant Souls, letting you add your charisma modifier to one creature’s damage when you use a spell that deals radiant or fire damage. You also get another spell; Fear lets you create the greatest, most disturbing gift a person could receive (in their minds), forcing creatures in the area of effect to become afraid and drop what they’re holding. They also have to move as far away from you as they can each turn.

17. Warlock 7: Seventh level warlocks get 4th level spells, and the Shadow of Moil gives you another magical counterattack, while also darkening the area around you. This means instead of casting a third level spell to fly, you can cast a fourth level spell and use your bonus actions instead! Wait...

Anyway, you also get your last Invocation, and Thirsting Blade will finally give you an Extra Attack to bring you on par with your non Christmas counterpart.

18. Cleric 11: Destroy Undead now hits CR 2 creatures, and you can cast sixth level spells! Harm is your biggest gift yet, and Planar Ally will let you summon an... elf... to help out with the gift giving. Yes, elves have horns, why do you ask?

19. Cleric 12: Use your last ASI to beef up your Constitution for more health and better concentration. You really don’t want to drop that while flying.

20. Cleric 13: Your capstone level gives you access to 7th level spells, and more importantly, a seventh level spell slot. If you really want to use it for magic, Regenerate would be a nice way to tell your party you’re thinking about them. Or you can use it to eviscerate your enemies with smites. Either or.

Pros:

Being able to fly is awesome, especially when you don’t have to concentrate half the time. Keep yourself safe while supporting the party!

Being able to smite makes you great at burst damage, especially with your cleric levels giving you access to hold person for guaranteed crits. 10d8 Force is nothing to sneeze at.

You’re great at fighting dirty. Fly out of the enemy’s reach, frighten them, turn invisible, lock them in place, or ruin their sleep beforehand. It’s fine; you’re Santa, so everything you do is for the greater good.

Cons:

It’s a good thing you don’t have to fight fair, because with your AC and HP you won’t be very good at it. (Especially if you want to be authentic and not wear plate.)

Being a warlock and a cleric nets you a lot of magic power, but that split casting skill means you’re not that great at it, especially the warlock spells. 

You don’t get a second attack until level 17, and that’s just sad.

Next up: I am thou, and thou art me...

[kbandtrash]

Surrounded (Mafia Crossover AU)(Part 15)

~Megan~

Masterlist

Day6/N.Flying/The Rose/Like any other kband honestly x Reader

Warnings: Violence, self-harm

Word Count: 1.6k Part 1

Why did Jae do it?

Out of all the people who could hate you enough to shoot you, why Jae? Ever since being in a cell, he had been your friend -- at least, that’s what you had assumed. He had been kind and carefree, someone you considered trustworthy.

Of course, there was no mistaking who he was; you could recognise that blonde hair anywhere. However, the look in his eyes had been so different from his usual appearance. His eyes were wide and cold, his lips set in a straight, thin line. His hands showed no falter in pulling the trigger.

And it still left you wondering why.

“Help!” Jae was shouting frantically. “Someone shot Y/N!”

The first to arrive was Jaehyun. He found Jae standing in the corner of your room, staring blankly at you. He could read that expression easily. Jae was clearly the bad guy in this situation.

Even so, Jaehyun couldn’t do anything about it. DAY6 had the upper hand in this war, no matter how strong N.Flying became. If he were to do one thing wrong, he could lose N.Flying’s spot in the building, ruin the alliance, and maybe even get them all killed. So he did nothing to show the older boy that he knew what happened. He settled on running back out of the room and heading straight for the infirmary, searching for Hun.

When he opened the door, he was disappointed to find Dongsung holding a knife at Wonpil.

“Dongsung!” he shouted, quickly becoming more and more worried. First The Rose, next Jae, and now Dongsung?

Dongsung immediately brought the knife back and dropped it to the floor. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair and sighed weakly. “We’ll talk about that later. Someone shot Y/N. Where’s Hun?”

“Wasn’t Y/N with Hun?” the N.Flying maknae and DAY6’s doctor checked at once.

“She’s on the floor, bleeding out. I didn’t see Hun come running for her. Me and Jae were the first ones to arrive.”

“Jae did it?” Dowoon asked, wide awake now. “He really shot her?” He sat up, a sad look in his eyes. “Jaehyun, it was him, right?”

The trainer looked around anxiously, but only found honest looks in their eyes, and he realized they were on his side. “Yeah, he did.”

Wonpil did his best to sit up, cringing when his leg shifted. “Someone take me to Y/N.”

“I’ll go get Hun,” Dongsung offered, not bothering to wait for an okay and heading out the door.

Jaehyun and Wonpil eyed each other warily but the trainer didn’t hesitate to help him off the bed. Wonpil bit his lip as his leg stung, and brought his arm over Jaehyun’s shoulders so he could limp around. Even through the obvious pain, the doctor would do anything to save you, and Jaehyun knew it. After he found a box of good supplies, they walked together to your room silently, hoping desperately that you would be okay.

Jae was gone. Wonpil was working quickly on you before he could take you back to the room. He didn’t need you losing any more blood than you already had. Jaehyun was waiting patiently outside the room, trying his best to stay calm. After a minute, Dongsung and Hun came sprinting down the hall but they quieted to open the door, to not disturb Wonpil as he worked.

Dongsung stayed outside with Jaehyun, silent for a moment, and then said, “I should go back to Dowoon.” At the trainer’s nod, the younger left.

Everything was quiet. It was a wonder how no one else had heard the gunshot, or Jae’s shouts, but maybe it had been planned that way. Who else was in on it? And something else; if Hun had been with you before, why had he not still? Jaehyun was pretty sure his little “storytelling tour” was supposed to last the whole day.

Honestly, Jaehyun could hardly wrap his head around everything that had happened since you were let out. As if everything spun around you like planets, and everything you did shifted their orbit. He wasn’t sure if he was part of that cycle, circling you and your every move, but he didn’t care if he was or not. It mattered to him, and that was all he needed to tell him he should be there for you and for the rest of N.Flying.

Suddenly Hun thrust the door open. “We can bring her to the room now.”

“Alright.”

They came in to see Wonpil struggling to stand up from his kneeling, and you bloody but breathing. Jae had only shot your hip, luckily enough, so it wouldn’t be too bad for you.

As Hun assisted Wonpil in standing, Jaehyun gingerly picked you up, and then they were going as fast as they could through the hall. They reached the infirmary, where Hun opened another curtain to reveal a second medical office so you had a clean bed to lay on. He left Wonpil on the bed next to Dowoon’s. Jaehyun set you carefully on a bed and Hun immediately followed to clip a wire on your finger, turning on the patient monitor system.

Everything had finally slowed down. Hun was busy, calmly setting up the monitor, and Wonpil, Dowoon, and Dongsung sat in silence. It felt like Jaehyun was the only one whose heart still beat, until the monitor was finally up-and-running, beeping to match your heartbeat.

“I can’t believe this happened.”

Jaehyun’s heart broke when Dowoon spoke, sitting up and rubbing his lips subconsciously.

“I can’t believe Jae really did it.”

Wonpil solemnly shifted on the bed, nodding. “I can’t believe anything that’s happened, ever since Y/N came to our attention in the first place.”

Dongsung, leaning cooly against a wall with his arms crossed, sighed and scrunched his eyebrows together as if in deep thought. “Why the heck is Y/N so important? Why is everything latched onto her? Is there something I’m missing?”

Hun came and sat next to Wonpil. “I didn’t notice at first, but now that I look at it again, it doesn’t make any sense. Y/N seems to have all the attention in the world. She’s being personally guided through all the people here, and The Rose is after her, after five years. You would think they would have found another weapon and moved on.”

Dowoon spoke up nervously. “Well… she could have been related to them more than we know. That could be familially or romantically. Perhaps she has something of theirs. Perhaps they are worried that she will tell us their secrets. Perhaps she is the key to their downfall.”

Wonpil inhaled sharply. “At first we had no idea she was special. Then she started destroying our lives. That’s when we realized she was important to us, too. If she could take down entire mafias herself, we could use her, just like them, to turn the tides.

“We got so close to getting her, but I suppose The Rose knew what we were trying and tried to destroy her. It didn’t work in their favor, as you can see.”

“And about the guidance,” Dowoon started, “we can’t risk her being caught or manipulated in any way. We chose you, Hun, because we know you’re the type to help. You don’t get a lot of assignments, especially with so many others here that take care of things already, so we gave you this chance to use your abilities. You’re the perfect one to protect her and heal her and trust her enough.”

Hun stayed quiet, but Jaehyun felt proud of his friend. “Wow, Hun, you’re so cool!”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

“Yeah,” your voice came from past the curtain, “shut up, Jaehyun.” Though none of them could see you, they could tell you had only just woken up.

“Y/N!” Jaehyun and Hun said in shock.

“Speak of the devil,” Dongsung muttered, settling his hand on the gun hanging at his waist.

“Get your hands off that stupid thing,” Wonpil said, the only one who noticed Dongsung.

Hun, by now, had pulled back the curtain to reveal a groggy you. “Y/N, how do you feel? Are the stitches okay? Are you ready for pain medication?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, a little overwhelmed. Your brain hardly understood his words that were all clumped together, but somewhere in there he said medication. You definitely needed it. The stinging of your hip that you could tell had been numb before had woken you up.

“I can numb it again for you,” he continued, pulling out a bottle from a cupboard.

“Alright, thank you.”

“I wonder what Sungjin will say about this,” Wonpil said. He stared toward you, finding you mindlessly picking at your arms. “Don’t scratch again!”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t think Sungjin will be lenient this time,” Dowoon said, leaning onto his pillow. “He hasn’t gotten around to completing our back-up plans.”

“What will Seunghyub think?” Jaehyun wondered.

Hun handed you the pills and a bottle of water, shivering at his friend’s words. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

You swallowed your medication calmly, but it felt like someone was drilling holes into you. Not just from the stinging of your wound; it felt like you were being stared at. Glancing around, you saw Dongsung shift his eyes from you. His hand quickly moved from his waist, but you still saw the gun.

“I’m not sure what to do about all of this,” Wonpil said, closing his eyes.

Part 16

[misfitjohnnys]

unintentional; i just can’t stay by your side

You’ve worked hard for everything you’ve gotten and Mark Lee is a soft twist in your busy life, but you know hiding part of yourself eventually always bites anyone in the ass.

Word count: 19k - part 4/5

Reader x Mark Lee

(M)

masterlist // warnings

Mark hadn’t texted you back yet even once you woke up, sending you into a slight worry. The night shift had been hell and you were trying hard not to worry about Mark on his flight; you already had so much on your plate after your time spent away with him.

a/n: this chapter contains smut

You quickly logged onto Tumblr and tried to get some kind of update, blinking a bit when you saw nothing from searching his name and moved to Twitter. You were still met with nothing. The signs were both good and bad. No bad news, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was all good. You decided to text him again, but hoped you weren’t being too much. You’d already sent a few texts and you were scared to text the other members in fear that something bad had happened; you couldn’t handle if that was the truth.

Everything okay? Missing you :(

You sighed, tossing your phone to the side and staring at your ceiling, alone in your empty bed. It was the first time Mark had been away from your country since you met and you hated that you were feeling this way, but you couldn’t help it. You got up and tried to busy yourself by cleaning and taking your things from the spare room to set your decorations back up. You thought it would make you feel better to do so and to see things that reminded you of him, so you reorganized your memorabilia with no avail, trying to wait patiently for a response.

Mark was probably busy, you decided. Baekhyun had blown up his phone and he was back at home so maybe he was catching up, but you thought a text message wasn’t too much to get. Mark was normally good at responding, wonderful even. So, it was only a bit odd that you’d gotten nothing since his just landed! text that you’d gotten at 7pm the previous night. It had been about a day and a half since you dropped him off and the flight was almost 16 hours, so something didn’t feel right. It should’ve been nearing 1am at that point. You’d have to get used to the time difference, unfortunately.

You decided on cleaning your whole apartment to distract yourself and take a day off, calling the housecleaner off yet again. You needed to keep your mind busy until Mark would text you back. It took about an hour after you started your cleaning, but you finally got a response, gasping when you saw the name on your phone. You had to calm down for just a moment before opening it, smiling and trying to relax. It had been way too long for a response, but you were going to give him space.

Hey

You swallowed. He hadn’t ever texted you a greeting like that before, he always used emojis and overused exclamation points, so just the simple word bothered you. You tried to shake it off, texting him eagerly as always.

hey!! how is everything?

You hoped you’d get a better response, but you were left disappointed.

its okay i guess, i’m pretty busy.

You gulped, not liking the tension, but after all it was over text message, so you shouldn’t be as worried as you were. but something didn’t feel right. You tried to find the right words to respond but were cut short by the ellipsis followed by another text.

Can we like, talk?

Of course, you could talk to him. You shockingly weren’t busy, and you always made time for Mark.

yeah of course! you wanna call me? 💞

You tried to ease whatever was going on with your own sweetness, hoping it would be returned.

Not really.. I’m kind of in the middle of something, but I have to talk to you.

Oh no, there it was. Something was happening. You wanted to play the joke card to ease the tension because he always wanted to call you, he rarely didn’t call you for at least a minute when you asked, but you had to understand that he was back home and things would be different when he was there. It was much more dangerous. You watched the dots appear on your screen again, pausing your own thoughts for response.

Are you like, an nctzen?

Mark felt stupid for asking like that, but they were the only words he could come up with. You thought it was cute and you didn’t think anything of that message, which eased your concern a bit.

well yeah, dummy 😂 why wouldn’t I be?

More dots showed up, quicker this time.

No. That’s not what I mean.

You swallowed again.

Mark was sitting at home awake much too early with Taeyong sleeping, not really wanting to talk to him about the situation either. Taeyong didn’t seem like anything was wrong and that bothered Mark to no end. He sighed, typing a response again and he only saw the read receipt from you.

Like. Okay. Were you a fan of us, before all this happened? Like from the beginning. When you met me.

Your heart was beating fast, staring blankly at the message. Fuck, you should’ve told him by now. You had the time, you had the ability to tell him the whole time, you don’t know why you hadn’t. Of course, you knew that it was more of a possibility of him tossing you away that scared you into not telling him in the first place. You had every opportunity to come clean and you hadn’t. You feared his judgement and it swayed your truth. You sat in guilt on it for so long, hoping it would turn out to be fine and be something you laughed about later on, but it didn’t seem like that was how the conversation was going to go. At all. You were nervous, you wanted to deflect, buy some time. Maybe he was just asking to clear his own head and you were thinking too hard into it.

mark baby what’s this about?

You felt stupid for asking like that at the seriousness of the conversation, sighing and deciding on sending another message.

can you call me later? i can tell something is up, we can talk about it later if youre busy okay? focus on your work, i love you.

You had forgotten about the time again, just assuming that he was busy with other things. He did have extremely tight schedules after all.

I’ll call you later.

Okay, I’ll be here to answer, alright?

And like that, you got no further response, no I love you too, just a read receipt and a bad feeling in your gut. You sighed, checking on the time difference. Mark had to have been home in his dorm, lying awake either much too late or up too early and you knew how things got to him in the hours between night and morning. Maybe he needed to sleep whatever off, you would give him the space. You decided to try and busy yourself with cleaning again, but you found yourself obsessively checking on Tumblr, Twitter, and anywhere else you could think to find any information on what Mark had been up to. You knew it was wrong, but you thought your worries would be eased. What if he found your accounts? Maybe that was what this was about, but you didn’t think so. Mark wasn’t very big on social media in general, so you doubted he’d find you easily.

The feeling in your gut didn’t subside for a few hours, aimlessly wandering around your apartment and trying to straighten up even more, but everything was reminding you of the last week and the fact that Mark had just been there days ago and now he was back home questioning you over text message and nothing felt like it was making any sense. You didn’t know what exactly you did wrong, but there were so many ways he could have found out, you weren’t exactly sneaky, you just didn’t tell him the whole truth.

You sighed heavily, deciding to text your friends to figure out what was up. Irene was still pretty angry with you for ditching your responsibilities to follow a concert tour and you’d hardly seen her aside from in passing without questioning you, so you didn’t know what she’d think if you messaged her about Mark. She was off of the option list. Yeri seemed like a valid person to give decent feedback, so you shot her a message.

Yeri sweetie I’m freaking out I don’t know what to do

She was always quick to reply.

Oh god what’s happening are you okay

Not really, I think I fucked up with Mark and I don’t know what to do

Holy shit wait, are you still talking to him????

dude AM i?? We kinda made things official and he came to visit me a week ago shit im sorry I haven’t updated you

no fucking way dude I still have Lucas in my DMs… man what have we gotten ourselves into???

lucas??? in your DMs???

YES OMG but okay that doesn’t matter what’s happening with Marky Mark???

You’d return to the Lucas conversation at a later date, that didn’t matter right now. You wanted guidance and you knew Yeri wasn’t the best at advice, but she was great at listening and offering a helping hand as much as she could give you, so it was helpful.

okay so he texted me some cryptic stuff and I’m just really nervous that i messed something up

Alright stop freaking out lmao, I’m sure everything’s fine and you’re just being dramatic!! What did he say?

You sighed and screenshot the last bit of your conversation and sent it, hopefully trying to get a better answer. It felt wrong to share your conversations with him, but you felt it was the best way to help you and get a clearer answer. Yeri knew you had put up the charade in the first place and wasn’t too fond of the idea, but she’d never tell you that. She’d act oblivious as much as she could to stay on your side.

What could that be about?? Did someone get to him and try to make you look bad??

Yeri i literally have no idea, I’m freaking out trying to figure it out! It’s like 2am there and I don’t want to bother him again to talk

Okay sweetie well just let it ride out, see what he has to say and call him in the morning! Don’t freak out too much yet, I’m sure it’s fine!! i love you!!!

You sighed again, hoping that Yeri was right, she usually was, but Irene usually had a more practical answer. Irene wasn’t someone you could ask about this though, she’d be angry with you for trying to focus on someone instead of your work and you hadn’t even updated her on exactly what was going on, so she was out of the loop to begin with and telling another person didn’t seem like it was in the best interest of you or Mark. You frowned, hoping that you’d calm down a little more before going to sleep because it had gotten dark before you realized how fast time had flown by. Maybe you’d send him one last text, just to ease your own mind.

Hey, I know it’s late, but I’m worried I did something to upset you and that’s the last thing I want, can we talk as soon as possible?

Yeah, I’ll call you in the morning.

Goodnight.

Sleep well, okay?

He’d never been so short with you before, just hoping that it wasn’t an issue you created because you didn’t think you did anything for him to find out. Maybe someone else was speculating and it wasn’t on you at all. You tried to convince yourself that maybe someone had him paranoid instead of it being something you did. You were trying to be optimistic and hoped it would all just blow over. It would break your heart to have ruined it yourself because things were going so well, and it was so long since you’d been so happy before. You sat in your freshly made bed, hoping to relax a bit. A few hours passed, still trying to find things to ease your mind before it was getting late. Still no call from Mark and no other texts from him either. You checked the time, hoping it was getting to be around morning time for him. Maybe you’d get lucky and he needed to be up early.

Your hopes were answered when you received a text around 4pm.

Is now a good time?

Your heart was racing faster than you’d ever felt it, your stomach in knots.

-

Mark had the chance to talk to Taeyong, who had more of a difficult time talking to him than he thought possible, Taeyong’s nerves were shot and he spent his hardest time trying to defend you.

“So you knew about this, like, the whole time?”

“Well, no..” Taeyong sighed, scratching behind his ear nervously. “I only found out after we went bowling and Baekhyun-hyung had me come in the room with him and-“

“So you helped him go through the suitcase?”

“No, not at all, I-um- actually told him not to, but you know he’s very persistent and-“

“Taeyong, come on, please.” Mark nearly looked on the verge of tears. “You know I hate being lied to, I hate it so much, so why didn’t you tell me?” He pleaded with his leader, hoping to get a better answer than the upsetting one he was getting.

“I-“ Taeyong sighed. “I saw how happy you were, and I know that we all get a bit uncomfortable when we try to talk to someone and they’re a fan, and I-“ He tried to gather his words, earning a disappointing look from Mark. “I didn’t want you to make that mistake.” Taeyong was honest, he was pure at heart and only wished for the best in people. The last thing he wanted was for Mark to give up his chance of pursuing you because of the stigma around dating a fan, so he stayed quiet and it was biting him in the ass.

“Well, now I might have made another mistake because I’ve been lied to for the last, what? Few months?” Mark scoffed. “Does anyone else know? I mean come on, we’re all in a group chat with half of 127, you know how awkward that is that I literally introduced them to someone who possibly fucking idolizes them? That’s so weird dude!” Mark didn’t like the idea of putting Yuta, Jaehyun, Johnny, or anyone else in danger and it would be all his fault if something happened, the boys were weird and texted dumb things and private conversations, so it wasn’t a good look to have you knowing them all like that. Granted, they were adults and could have spoken up and denied being added, but Mark knew they all believed the best in people, which is why he made the chat in the first place.

Taeyong gulped again, trying to get Mark to calm down before he spoke again. “Nobody else knows.”

“Nobody?” Mark didn’t seem so sure.

“No, Baekhyun hasn’t told anyone either.” Taeyong was biting his nails, looking anywhere but in Mark’s eyes. He was almost sure that Baekhyun hadn’t told anyone because he seemed so adamant that the word shouldn’t get out, but Taeyong wasn’t entirely positive.

“You sure?” Mark asked, pleading for Taeyong to answer him honestly. Taeyong had a history of making sure everyone was always happy, so Mark had to make sure he wasn’t avoiding the truth just to please the boy.

“I’m positive, okay?” Taeyong nodded. He wasn’t, but it would put Mark at ease, but he was positive that even if Baekhyun had slipped up that he wouldn’t put them into even more danger by adding to the situation. EXO was known for being level-headed and under the radar, so he didn’t fear that you’d be exposed, not even a little bit. He thought a moment, blinking at Mark. Taeyong was going to make his statement. Maybe he wasn’t right in how he felt, but it felt like he was. “I don’t care, I think the two of you are good together and you make each other happy, so you shouldn’t care either!” Taeyong sighed softly. “Have you two talked?”

“Not yet, I’m, um, supposed to call later. I was supposed to call days ago, but I-I don’t know if I can.” He’d texted you, but he’d avoided calling you for days and you tried to be fine with him not talking to you even when he seemed like he had so much to say and clearly the conversation was important but the time never felt right and Mark was obviously avoiding the problem.

“Please talk, you guys have something special okay, I know it.” Taeyong offered a smile, trying to make sure Mark didn’t regret his decision just because of one small hiccup. Mark sighed again, his face in his hands. “You should be upfront and figure the whole thing out.”

“Okay, I’ll call, fine.” Mark grumbled, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his temples. “I seriously don’t know what to do, man.” He scoffed. Taeyong sighed softly, nodding his head.

“I mean, stand in that position, what if you decided not to talk at all just because you found out about the three of them were fans? I can’t exactly blame them in this situation. I can understand why they hid it from you, you probably would’ve backed away before it even started.” Taeyong tried his best to comfort Mark, but he could tell he was failing. He was disappointed in himself for failing to talk to Mark before Baekhyun got to him in the first place, he blamed himself more than anyone. It was a tough situation to be in in general, he understood both perspectives and just wanted everyone to be happy. Taeyong didn’t know what to do.

“But you could’ve warned me.”

“I don’t know that it would’ve helped..” Taeyong was probably more nervous than you, settling back down with biting his nails and he wasn’t even sure who he could talk to about his own nerves, not wanting to hurt Mark any further until you two settled what was going on. He hoped everything would be okay, Taeyong liked you. He thought you were wonderful, and he was so happy to meet you and see how radiant and excited Mark had been since becoming a trainee, he just hoped it would all be fine. He wanted Mark to be happy, he wanted you to be happy. He liked the friendship he’d made with you and checking to see how you were doing, always followed with happy text messages and even he wanted to message you before it blew up, but it didn’t feel right.

Taeyong wanted it to all be okay.

-

“Hey.” The voice on the other end of the speaker was almost terrifying. You had gasped when Mark finally called. It had been a while since you talked. Mark had done a good job ignoring you for way too long and you felt like you could pass out.

Your heart was pounding painfully in your chest. It was nearing 4pm your time because he’d clearly let it go on to the next day even after he and Taeyong’s conversation, but he had finally decided to call when he woke up, thoughts rushing around both your heads, but the biggest fear was whether or not Mark was alright. You had been so worried about you and where you stood with him, but once you heard his voice that was long forgotten, you just wanted him to be alright. That’s what mattered more than anything.

“Mark?” You questioned, voice coming out much shakier than you wanted it to.

“Hey,” He sighed through the speaker. You didn’t know if you were ready for the conversation even if you had so much time to prepare for what you’d hear, but you knew it was necessary to keep whatever was happening between the two of you at a decent standing. “I’ve got, um, a question.” He sounded confused and choked up.

“Okay, yeah, you can ask me anything.” You assured him, hoping to put him at ease. “Is this about what you texted me about?”

“Yeah,” Mark cleared his throat. “It is, um. So, like. Be real with me.” He sighed again. “Were you a fan of us before all this? Be honest with me, please. I-I-I asked the other day and you didn’t answer.”

You had half a mind to deflect again even after some serious thought, but you weren’t sure it was the right answer. “I-“ You sighed. “I knew about you.”

“That didn’t um, exactly answer my question.” His laugh sounded condescending and you felt like you could vomit. “How much did you know?” You sighed again.

“A good amount, I guess..” You trailed off, voice quieter.

The speaker was silent for a moment. “Please don’t lie to me, I really don’t like being lied to.” He was making it more and more obvious that you had really messed up, which was your biggest fear. You had messed up and there was going to be no way to avoid the conversation and go back to normal because you neglected to tell him in the first place. You avoided it on purpose and kept making excuses, but you were screwed. You messed up. It wasn’t someone projecting on him, he had been told the truth and you didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter. He knew and all you could do was confirm and come clean.

“Mark,” You sighed again, knowing it was finally time to fess up. You weren’t sure how to word it, but you finally had to tell him the truth even though it was too late. You had a feeling. “I was actually in the city for the SuperM concert with my friends and-“ You paused to calm yourself down. “I’ve been a fan of you for a while, yeah.”

“Me?” His voice was softer, obviously trying to get you to continue.

“Well-Like, all of you? I guess.” You said briefly, biting your lip. “I’ve kind of.. been a fan for a while.”

“And you didn’t think this was that big of a deal?” He asked with a scoff.

You paused for a moment, silence breaking waves in your head. You should have told him, and you had been purposefully avoiding it. You feared telling him and it felt like good reasoning until that moment. “I was scared, Mark.”

“Scared of what?” He asked, tone much more aggressive than you were used to. You felt sick to your stomach, lying on your bed and trying to finish the conversation without freaking out fully.

“Scared of you not wanting me anymore, I guess. Scared that you might not give me a chance.” You hoped that was the right answer. It was the truth and hopefully he would understand. Maybe it would all blow over.

“I wish you would’ve just said something because now it absolutely, like, feels like you’ve been hiding shit from me.” Mark had never raised his voice, he still was level-headed, but you knew he was correct in his feelings and he had every right to react that way. “I seriously hate being lied to more than anything in the damn world and you’ve been doing it to me for months, I just like people to just be, like, upfront with me, dude!” It was weird to hear him speaking like that especially since it was all so new to begin with, wishing you had never put him in the position to be angry with you.

Internally, Mark knew that he more than likely wouldn’t have given you a chance, but he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to pretend that he wouldn’t have done that, but it wasn’t the truth and he knew it. He was pulled from his thoughts again when you spoke. “I-Mark, I-I’m really sorry, you’re right, I should’ve said something.”

“Yeah, you think?” He scoffed again. “This is like, exactly what happens to people in this industry.” His voice started to crack a bit and knowing you were the reason for his upset was more than heartbreaking. “We have such a hard time dating people because they get lied to, okay? I trusted you, I poured my heart out to you and every single time I thought you were just interested in me, it was all things you probably already knew, huh?” The bite in the last sentence was soul-crushing, your throat felt tight.

You didn’t know how to respond. You pulled yourself together, trying to ignore the blinding headache you were getting from having hurt him so badly. It was never your intention, but he was right. He was. “Yes.”

“You knew all that stuff. You knew our songs; you knew the members and here I was just thinking you had learned it all for me.” He spat, hurt in his tone. “I thought I was special, someone you wanted to get to know and it was stuff you already knew! You knew everything, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” He repeated more aggressively, but you didn’t want him to think you wouldn’t have done those things in the first place. If you had been in the position to get to know him from scratch, you would have learned those things about him, but knowing him was the reason you had connected and invited him to the party in the first place. He was special, but it wasn’t an authentic relationship and it killed you that you’d done something so stupid.

“You.. Are special, Mark.” You sighed, trying to ignore the tears begging to fall because he was right. “You didn’t deserve to be lied to, but Mark, I really like you. Not even just because you’re famous or my idol or anything, I really, really like you okay? I’m interested in continuing to get to know you and every moment I spent with you is a miracle and I just hope you feel the same way.” You were both quiet for a moment.

“I mean,” He huffed into the phone. You didn’t expect him to go off. “I thought I did, but how can I trust you? I had to find out from Baekhyun that you’d been lying to me! Not only me, but to Lucas, Taemin, everyone!” The words stung. “We let you in the chats, let you into our personal lives, and then we find out we probably fucked up big time? That’s low, it’s really fucked up looking at it. It puts us in danger, okay?” You gulped. He was right. He had every right to be mad because it was almost like you were invading his personal life by hiding part of yours. “I’m supposed to make the decision on if I want to take it anywhere with someone knowing who I am. I’m supposed to be the one to decide, not you!” It felt wrong. You felt wrong. You shared so much with Mark and he shared enough with you to get him into huge trouble, but you had ignored it for your own selfishness and continued to drag it on. “Do you see where I’m coming from?”

“Mark, I swear I’d never put you in danger.” And you wouldn’t. You’d never do anything to hurt him or anyone else but that didn’t matter in the conversation. You had avoided dating for the same reason, people searching for your money or to get what they wanted when you first got your name up, but you never expected to be in the opposite position. You didn’t need Mark for the money, but the validation of having someone more famous than you was probably an internal validation that you seeked. Maybe it was why you’d done it in the first place; having someone you looked up to interested in you felt good and it made you selfish.

The mention of Baekhyun didn’t raise any flags in your head at the time, it didn’t even cross your mind that it was why he’d been so dodgy with you and weird in the first place. You’d only met him twice in comparison to the others and both times he was sweet but guarded. The lines didn’t connect at the mention.

“So, you haven’t talked about this to anyone? Not on the internet or anything?” He scoffed, finding it hard to believe if your answer was no. You hadn’t told anyone and the people you did tell had met with them and weren’t in any position to speak out about it. Seulgi didn’t care and Yeri was talking to Lucas, so they weren’t a threat because they’d end up exposed too. However, Yeri was an open book and you were positive Lucas knew about her liking him anyway.

“No, I swear. I’ve only talked to the friends you met and they’re not stupid either, we’d never do that to you.” You answered honestly. “I haven’t told anyone, at all. Not even my assistant! They only know I’m talking to someone, what’s between us is private.” Mark knew who Irene was to you and the fact that you hadn’t told her didn’t seem close to believable in his state of mind.

“I just don’t know if I can trust that.” He had every right to feel that way, but you wanted to let him know that you cared, and you would never cross that line. You had to remind yourself that you’d never get Mark in trouble and that seemed to be what he was most worried about.

“I-“ You swallowed, sighing and trying to let him calm down. “Mark, I promise I’d never do that. I wouldn’t tell anybody because I know what would happen if the word got out, I-” he cut you off.

“I just-I don’t know what to do now.” If you were in fact being honest, Mark had to consider how he was feeling now that he knew the truth. It was all up to him to figure out what to further do.

“I-I know.” You did know, you did know the danger he could be in, but again, you’d never hurt him. You hadn’t said anything. You’d been truthful and didn’t even know how you wound up in that position, but you were definitely not going to ask. You weren’t lying about anything you’d confessed to at all, you only wanted the best for Mark, but you being with him was just too exciting to give up and you knew from the early in the beginning that you didn’t care who he was, you liked him for who he showed himself to be, you liked his authentic self. Maybe you should reiterate your feelings and the silence was killing you. “Mark, I promise I could care less about how famous or anything you are. I like you. I like you more than anyone I’ve ever dated or talked to, and yeah it’s exciting that you’re someone I used to idolize, but it’s all changed now. I know you deeper than that. You’re amazing and I love that you gave me a chance and I hope you can give me the opportunity to make it up to you and everyone else.” The line was quiet again for longer than you expected. You wish you knew if he was smiling, if he was feeling better, if all you were saying meant anything. “Mark?”

“I’m processing, okay?” He huffed over the phone again. “I just don’t know how I feel, okay?”

“I understand.” You did, you knew the tight spot you’d put him into, but you were going to own up to it.

“I’ll talk to you later.” You could hear the irritation in his voice. “Let me think.”

“I-“ You swallowed, wondering if you should even say it, but you wanted to remind him how you felt. “I love you.”

“Yeah.” The line went blank, he’d hung up. You hadn’t experienced a heartbreak like that; it was unsettling and crushing. You felt tears well up in your eyes and wondered how you went from being so wonderful to being such an issue in his life. That was the last thing you wanted, but deep down you knew that time would come. You just hoped you got lucky enough for him to be blind to it, but not everyone else was. The subject of Baekhyun finding out was starting to stand out in your head finally, furrowing your brows and you knew you should leave Mark alone, but you wanted to know exactly what he meant. You didn’t want to further bother him at all, but after a few minutes, it was eating you up and you knew you had to ask. You thought up a text to Mark, but quickly erased it. You decided to text Taeyong.

Yong?

You didn’t get an answer quickly, so you’d send another.

can i ask you something?

You got to thinking about everything Mark said and suddenly Baekhyun seemed to be an important part in the whole thing. Maybe that was why Baekhyun was so distant. Maybe he knew the whole time. The possibility was driving you crazy, but you had to remain calm and work it out the right way. It was your only hope of redemption and Taeyong was the most calm and friendly person you’d spoken to from the experience. You two had become decently close. Taemin and Ten didn’t seem comfortable enough with you yet and Lucas was unfortunately hopeless when it came to any issue at all, he was the biggest avoider in conflict and Mark had mentioned that he was timid when a situation arose, you noted, so you would definitely not bother him. You’d just have to wait it out for now.

No response from Taeyong. Maybe you’d messed that up too.

Days upon days had passed and you still hadn’t gotten a response or any kind of message from anybody. The weeks had passed and you tried your hardest to busy yourself with floor plans for weeks and working with contractors to get your other places set up, but even when busying yourself, your world was falling down. It was disheartening, but you couldn’t help but rethinking about the danger and terrible position you’d put them all in, so you were best to leave it alone until anyone felt ready to talk. You were constantly reminded online that 127 were off to Spain soon, then New York, so you knew everyone was more than busy, but you hoped that maybe you’d get a response before then.

You spent days in your head and after a long-going meeting about final calls, it was getting late, so you decided to head to the main restaurant location and hopefully get your mind off things. It wasn’t the most helpful, but you could only dream, assisting with food prep and listening carefully, catching up with the workers you hadn’t seen in a few days because you were so preoccupied with your own personal issues. You felt like you were letting them all down, but they assured you about how fine it all was. You’d done your job and adequately prepared them all for the journey, so you felt almost useless in the time being. For once you finally had everyone ready to deal without you being on location. It felt wrong. You still had a few store openings to work on, but your mind couldn’t focus in on that at the moment. You had been working at the cutting board for hours thinking, but were pulled from your thoughts in the mindless work.

“Everything okay? I got a call saying someone was here with their head in the cutting board again being awfully quiet.” You heard a familiar voice behind you, one that always made you feel a bit better. You turned around to see Irene with a bright smile, hands placed on her hips. You sighed of relief, smiling at her and dropping your knife on the table to walk over and hug her after tugging your gloves off to hug her. “What’s wrong sweet pea?” She offered, gently patting your back. “You’ve been out of it since your trip.” She was giggling and you felt yourself let go, tears rolling down your face as you tucked your head into her shoulder. She had been annoyed with you before, but she didn’t seem to be upset at all.

“It’s been a hard few weeks, ‘Rene.”

“I could tell, I could.” She consoled you, trying to bring you back down to earth before diving deeper into the real problem. “Just talk to me if you want to, okay? But I know when you willingly cut vegetables in here at night that you’ve got something going on.” You nodded, drying your face on her shirt. You stayed in her embrace for a while before pulling away.

“Your shoulder’s a little wet.” You laughed, wiping your eyes again with your sleeves.

“I’ve been used to that for years.” Irene teased, leaning against the counter and her voice was sincere. She cared about you more than you thought someone should. “Now tell me what’s actually going on.” And that’s when the dam broke.

-

“So that’s what you’ve been up to?” Irene was looking at the table in the empty restaurant and trying to process all the information she just got, eyes somewhere between disbelief and concern. You’d gone off on a tangent and confessed everything to her right there. In your heart you know you shouldn’t bring yet another person into the equation, but you had to go somewhere to get a decent opinion and Irene was the most level-headed person you knew. She was technically responsible for you after all, that’s what you paid her for, and she absolutely deserved a raise at that point. You’d make a mental note of that.

“Yeah.” You nodded, carding your fingers through your hair. “It’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it?” You scoffed, in disbelief that you’d gotten yourself into the situation at hand. You hated that you did that to anyone including yourself.

“I don’t think so.” Irene shook her head, sighing. “I understand why you did it, I really do, but I also see it from his perspective, maybe he just needs some space, you know?” Irene was always right, stirring her coffee and taking a sip. “Who knows, maybe it could all blow over if you really like each other, yeah?” She offered a sweet smile, hoping to get your hopes back up. You nodded in response. “If they’re coming here soon, why not go ahead and try to talk to him? You’ve got a conference in Jersey in a few weeks I could probably move up, and they’re pretty close, so maybe you could get a little leverage?” She shrugged, leaning back in the booth seat.

“Oh my god, shit. I completely forgot about that conference.” You sighed, groaning softly. “You think that’s a good idea? Just show up?”

“It’s the Macy’s Day Parade, it’s not like it’s some private event.” Irene snorted, shrugging. “Let me talk to the investors, I can try to see if they’ll move up to that weekend. I mean, come on, I can go with you.”

“You’d go with me?”

“You’re literally paying me to take care of you.” She snorted again, reminding you yet again that she was the greatest investment you’d made thus far. “Of course, I’ll go with you. Everyone here is fully capable of taking care of the place. You’re not stupid, you did a good job at hiring.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at her aggressive complimenting. “You’ve done your job which is why you find it hard to find something to do when you just show up here.” She snorted gain. “Which is also why your busy work consists of cutting vegetables when you’re upset.”

“I guess I should be less competent then, yeah?” You joked, seeing Irene roll her eyes playfully.

“That’s the opposite of what I’m saying, you workaholic.” She tapped the top of your hand playfully mimicking a smack. “Sometimes it’s good to let other people work for you, so you can go ahead and easily fuck around with people like Mark Lee.” She raised a brow, shaking her head. It was the first time she’d understood the depth of why you weren’t talking to her about what was happening. “Trust me, it’ll all be fine, promise.”

You were finally laughing; glad you had some outlet to let go of what you’ve been holding onto. You felt like you should have gone to her in the first place. Irene was honestly a lifesaver and you thanked her day in and day out for that amongst everything else she’s done for you. “So, I guess you’re going to see them with me?” You smiled awkwardly, knowing partially that it was a bad idea, but making a work trip wasn’t entirely a horrible excuse. Irene couldn’t care less about seeing the boys, she was in it for you to begin with and you were sure that’s how it would remain.

“I’m going for you and the Macy’s Day Parade, don’t get it twisted.” She teased, grinning wide. “I’m an emotional support assistant, not your love life therapist.”

“That’s fair.”

“At least you have a love life now, I’ve been waiting on you to get distracted since the first store opened. You deserved a little break and I don’t want one little hiccup to ruin that for you.” She was right and you knew it. “Now let’s go home and get some rest, alright?”

“But the vegetables!” You sighed, remembering that you’d started a job you wanted to finish. Irene groaned.

“Okay, fine. Let’s go finish the vegetables and you’re going home and drinking a glass of wine and going to sleep right after, okay?”

“Yes, mom.” You snorted, standing up and wiping the table clean before returning to the back, Irene gladly following to assist and make sure you weren’t there until ungodly hours of the night. It was already late, and she knew how you were, so she’d keep an eye on you to make sure you were in good standing and you appreciated it more than you could express. Everyone else had gone home after closing and you only had yourself to worry about.

“So, I got your conference moved up.” Irene offered after a few moments of silence. You hadn’t even seen her send an email. “You can thank me later.” She shrugged. “We’re flying out in two days, so be prepared.” You shook your head, smiling. You’d been prepared for the meeting for months now, filling every hole with explanation and you were more than ready to present, but seeing Mark again made it even more worthwhile.

“God, I love you.” You reminded Irene once again.

“Hm, I know.” She was confident, as she should be.

You got home and did exactly what she told you to do, got a glass of wine, showered, and got into your comfortable clothes to get a decent night’s rest. You were due at the restaurant in the morning to go over some new procedures, so your rest was important and thankfully, you slept like a baby.

You woke up to a missed call and a few texts, groaning at the full notification screen but decided to ignore it until you were coherent enough and had some water and coffee in your system for the day; it could wait. You forgot you had even been waiting on responses from anyone, you weren’t awake enough for that and you had work to tend to.

When you were finally at work, waiting for everyone to show up, you quickly read through your phone and glanced at the messages, one from Mark.

I’m ready to talk, call me when you can.

You also had a missed call and a text from Taeyong. It had been what? A few weeks or so since you texted him? You forgot you had even texted him, getting back into the swing of work had really distracted you from the passing days and you almost forgot what you sent him but were quickly reminded with a heavy beating heart and a deep breath as you looked the messages over.

Hey, I’m so sorry I’ve been so busy, is everything okay? I should have responded by now but I just got so distracted and didn’t know what to say 🥺 I know things went down with you and Mark and I hope you’re okay, I’m here if you need me, I promise. We just got finished up in Spain and we’re about to fly out so if I don’t answer then just hold on!!

Taeyong was always so sweet, making your heart pound heavily and hoping he wasn’t too stressed about the situation, he was always on edge with stress and from what you gathered he had the most overlapping schedules and you hated to add more to it. Taeyong didn’t want to go behind Mark’s back and talk to you about the situation until he had the time to say anything himself, so he went with his gut feeling for not responding immediately but when he was going through his messages after the awards show, he was hit with guilt for not talking back to you and he was sure you were freaking out across the world. He hoped his message would find you well.

You quickly typed up a text to Taeyong

Hey!! Don’t worry about it, I felt bad for dragging you into it anyway. Mark wants to talk to me, and I was just nervous, I didn’t know if you were near him or knew what was going on, but thank you for caring so much, I appreciate it and I hope your flight goes well!💛

Then it was time to text Mark back. It took a minute to draft up the perfect message, but you just said what felt right in the moment.

Hey, I’m really busy with work today, but you can call me when you’re ready and I’ll answer, okay? Take care of yourself and work, that’s what’s important

You thought your message was the right amount of distance, taking a deep breath after responding. You didn’t want to seem to eager and you definitely didn’t want to mention that you were going to see them, it could mess things up, but you also hadn’t factored in him wanting to talk as soon as he was heading back to the states.

Mark didn’t call you back. Taeyong didn’t text. You knew they still had to be on the plane and talking was rare when it came to flights, so you’d focus in on continued prepping for your meeting and getting everyone in the restaurant in check, including your newest manager. It pained you to think about what your job had gone through and your neglect had caused problems, so you were still nervous to take the trip, but you had to believe Irene when she told you that it was going to be fine.

You finished up your meeting and busied yourself with casual preparation as the day went on, getting nagged by Irene on the fact that you didn’t have to do this or that for every little task you put yourself on and you had perfectly capable workers to do it, but you honestly liked helping out and everyone there seemed to enjoy having you around. You loved creating a fun work environment and you kind of missed being a part of the kitchen staff. You sighed after a long day, sitting in your office to relax for a bit. Irene sauntered into the office after finishing up her own paperwork to smile at you.

“So,” She giggled, sitting on your desk. “You ready to go talk to your guy?” She teased.

“Maybe, yeah.” You nodded, grinning. You sighed again, shrugging. You hadn’t heard from anyone yet, but you were being patient. “Does he know you’re coming yet?”

“Nope, I guess I’ll tell him when we’re there.”

Irene snorted. “Of course, I figured you were going to say that.” And as soon as she spoke, you saw your phone vibrating on the desk. You gasped, looking over at Irene, who sent you a knowing look.

“Is that your guy?”

You swallowed, nodding. “Yeah, it is. Um, I-I’m nervous.” You sighed, picking it up and hesitating to answer. Irene quickly reached over to press the green button and grinned widely at you before mouthing a ‘good luck’ at you and then slipping out of the room, back behind her own office door.

You gulped. “H-hello?”

You heard a soft sigh on the phone, accompanied by some scattered voices in the background. “Hey!” Mark exclaimed. “We-we um, just touched down, we’re going through customs now.” He explained, his voice seemed a bit paced over the speaker, you hoped he was okay.

“How was the flight?” You asked quickly, trying to shift the subject to his importance. You hadn’t heard his voice since the big talk, but you’d try not to focus on how nice it was to hear him again.

“It was fine, yeah.” He spoke softer, voice calming down. “How are you?” He asked.

“I’m-I’m okay.” You answered honestly, but you couldn’t help the blush on your face or the heavy beating of your heart. “It’s been a long-ish day.”

“Yeah, same here.” He cleared his throat. He was quiet for a moment, so you assumed he was thinking on what to say. “So, um, I just wanted to apologize.” You were silent, shocked that he was the one apologizing. “I didn’t mean to get so angry with you.” He was speaking quieter, continuing to ramble on because you couldn’t quite find the words to say back. “I was just upset and didn’t know what to do.” You had to admit that you hated doing that kind of thing over the phone, texting was easier and in person was more personal, but if it was the way Mark wanted to have the conversation, you were fine with it.

“No, no trust me, you had every right to feel that way, I know how you-“ He cut you off.

“But listen, that’s not why I called.” Mark sighed again. “I wanted to see if you, um, had the possible time to meet up maybe, so I could get some clarity on how I feel or something. I’ve just been really stressed and, yeah.” He was quieter and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread along your face. “Sorry I haven’t messaged you..”

The last part didn’t really flow through your mind. You almost stopped listening after he said he wanted to meet with you. “Like, in New York?”

“Yeah, yeah, um, I know it’s last minute, but maybe we can meet somewhere before I fly out again, you know?” You sighed again, remembering that he still had other responsibilities, but he was still wanting to meet up. “I just think it could help, you know, whatever this is.” He sounded nervous, but confident in what he needed at the same time. It was a tone you weren’t used to. He knew exactly what he wanted for the first time since you met and that felt good. At least he was sure about it. You understood you hadn’t been together long, but you still cared about him and how he felt about it all, you just wanted him to be happy.

“We may be able to arrange something.” You hinted, smiling. “You’re there for two days?”

“Well, yeah. We sleep tonight and we’re here the next two nights, so I’ll be here.”

It was fortunate that you could easily get tickets had you not bought them beforehand. Maybe the relationship would be able to work out if the two of you stayed looping each other in, it wouldn’t be so hard.

“I’ll let you know, okay?” You sighed happily into the phone.

“Okay, cool, cool.” He laughed softly over the speaker. “I’ll, um, hopefully see you, just let me know.”

“I will, promise.” It was the most basic conversation the two of you had, as if it didn’t involve you flying across the country to see him yet again. You were shocked at how calm he seemed, hopefully he was feeling better about the situation. You sighed of relief.

“Cool, yeah.” Mark cleared his throat again. “I-um, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.” You nodded, sighing and not yet wanting to hang up. It was nice to hear his voice again. You were whipped and you knew it. “Well, um,” You grinned. “Bye, bye.” His giggle over the phone was cute.

“Bye.”

It wasn’t long before you got a text from Taeyong.

It sounds like you guys are going to work it out? 😃

You grinned at the message.

Yeah, I think so 🤞

-

“So, ready to go?” You heard a voice through your apartment, gasping loudly and not at all awake enough to function and hear someone in your house. It was late in the night and you had just woken up from a nap, you booked a 2am flight so you could easily make it for the morning, but you had a feeling you wouldn’t sleep at all on the plane because it was nearly midnight and you had taken a really good nap.

“Jesus, I really should take your house key away.” You groaned from your bedroom, popping your head out to see Irene at the front door, fully dressed and ready to go.

“And stop me from scaring you? I haven’t hardly seen you in weeks, so you have to deal with me for the next few days.” She laughed, walking into your kitchen to grab a glass of water. “God, your house is so clean, who are you?” She laughed, knowing that you’d definitely been keeping it straight for Mark and to busy your head. She knew you all too well.

“Okay, I didn’t sign up to be roasted, let me live.” You snorted, zipping up your suitcase and turning it to the wheels to get ready to leave. You pulled on your oversized coat and stepped into your boots, trying to prepare for the cold weather as you walked your bags down the stairs.

“Oh, okay someone’s looking nice.” She teased further, taking a sip from the glass. “It’s good to see you pulling yourself together, I ought to thank Mark myself.” You rolled your eyes at her, putting your bags at the door before putting your sunglasses on top of your head. “Ready?” You might’ve been dressed up to easily be ready for tomorrow and early check in at the hotel, so you didn’t have to worry about what you’d see Mark in. You needed to be dressed your very best for the situation.

“Ready!” You nodded, smiling at your friend.

You hadn’t talked to Mark much because he was clearly avoiding the full conversation you needed to settle and while you were anxious about it, you didn’t mind avoiding the conflict. You’d talked more to Taeyong, mostly about scheduling and he seemed rather excited to see you, much to your own surprise.. You definitely avoided the groupchats. You were trying your best to distance yourself, give Mark some space to decide what was going to happen between you two. You were an adult; you could handle that.

The flight was shorter than you thought it would be, spending most of your time emailing and scripting for the conference while Irene slept. She had taken an Ambien and absolutely hated plane rides, which shocked you because she was more often than not willing to go somewhere with you. When you finally landed, your adrenaline was high, and you were more than excited to walk around the city and explore. You’d never really spent much time in New York before and Jersey was only a short ride for the conference on Saturday. You were more excited to visit there than you thought you would be, and you hadn’t exactly told Mark you were officially coming yet, you’d leave the surprise up to him. You were there for business with the hope of excitement, so you were sure you couldn’t be too let down.

Thursday night was the official performance and thankfully you landed early enough to make it for the parade, excitedly checking Twitter eagerly to find out what parade float 127 was on. Thankfully your hotel was near the parade route, so you quickly headed out to see where everyone had been lining up. You easily found a good spot near the end of the parade, excitedly waiting to see the boys you’d been waiting to see. You still hadn’t met anyone in the 127 groupchat aside from Taeyong and Mark, so it was even more exciting to meet the other people you’d talked to in person.

You excitedly watched the parade because weirdly enough, you had always wanted to see it. You sighed happily, grinning wide with Irene at your side. She watched intently, noticing how excited you were, and even though you could tell she didn’t understand the hype, her being there with you meant the world. The whole parade was amazing, bright exciting colors all around and you felt like you were in heaven, bright skies felt like the whole world had meaning again and maybe it was just because you were tired, but things felt right. You sighed happily, glancing around the corner to finally see the gigantic Lego float and you gasped loudly.

“Irene! It’s them!” She whipped her head around, enjoying seeing you so happy so she was going to give into your excitements.

“And which one is Mark?” She snorted, grinning when you started jumping around excitedly, screams filling the people around you.

“The little one with the black hair!” You beamed, waving and hoping they saw you. You giggled excitedly, whipping out your phone to snap a picture of them to send to the 127 chat.

You guys look amazing!! congrats! I got a good view of the float and you all look so happy 🥰

You sent the message quickly, stuffing your phone back into your pocket before Irene spoke to you, checking out the float herself in the time being. You didn’t expect the next words to fall out of her mouth. “The tall one with the black hair is actually kind of hot.” She snorted, nodding with pursed lips. “Not bad.” Your eyes widened with slight shock, but you couldn’t exactly blame her for the comment.

“Yeah, that’s Johnny!” You giggled again, waving excitedly. Unfortunately, none of them looked in your direction, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t warn them beforehand so that they could look for you and you hoped you’d meet up with Mark and maybe the others later. Just seeing them made you feel better and the butterflies returned to your stomach at the thought that you were so close to the members you hadn’t seen before. You shook the thoughts away and tried to remember that some of them were your friends. You leaned into Irene’s ear to explain quickly to her. “Okay so Yuta is the one with long dark hair, Taeyong is the grey hair, Jaehyun is the-“

“I’m literally getting none of this.” Irene giggled, patting your back. You laughed in response, shaking your head and realized the explanation was hopeless. “Maybe we’ll meet with them later and it’ll all come to me.” She teased you further, shrugging and a buzz of excitement ran through you. Maybe you’d actually get to meet and see them all, your boyfriend’s friends and long-time idols, you could only hope. You wished more than anything you weren’t so excited to see them all in front of you because of who they were and that’s what got you into the mess with Mark, but you had to remind yourself that they were people and you didn’t know what of the situation they knew. Maybe it was best that they weren’t in the equation.

“Yeah, yeah I hope so.” You nodded, sighing happily as the float went further away from you.

You walked around after the parade ended, excited to see all the other sights and floats. It was a beautiful parade you had to admit, unable to stop the grin on your face. You loved the sight of New York, happy to possibly have a restaurant open near there that you could visit often. Even on your off moments, you liked thinking about new work opportunities because it would better help you plan your future. It felt like things were finally falling into place and you were excited about that. You hadn’t checked your phone in a while, so you pulled it out and gasped at the excited responses in the groupchat.

You’re here!! I didn’t think you’d come!! We should all go to dinner or something! Mark’s paying

Nevermind every man for himself Mark punched me

From Johnny. He always managed to make you laugh.

Oh gosh are we finally going to get to meet you?!

From Jaehyun

Glad you could make it ☺️

From Taeyong, who knew better than anybody that you’d probably show up. Taeyong could tell your potential and whimsical decision making from the second you became friends. Maybe it was for the better that you two were getting close.

And finally, from Yuta, a self-proclaimed self-enthusiast.

wow I really was living my best life huh? Look at my face😂😂 Hope you enjoyed the parade!

You definitely did enjoy the parade and were more than happy to see them as excited as you were. The boys seemed like children who were in a candy store on the float, so you knew they were having the times of their lives and loved being there. You hadn’t seen them so happy in a while and they all definitely didn’t look that excited in Spain except for when they were with Lizzo, so it was a good time for everyone. You loved seeing them so happy. You hadn’t received a text from Mark in the groupchat, but you missed a text in your personal ones, heart racing when you saw his name.

You came? Why didn’t you tell me! Did you want to meet up tonight?

You gulped, biting your lip and showing the text to Irene. “I want nothing to do with your love life.” She snorted, shaking her head and turning her attention to the street food she’d just gotten. It was a mess on a plate, but she seemed to thoroughly be enjoying it. “But go ahead, you’ve still got a whole day to screw around before we go to Jersey, nothing’s off limits.” She shrugged. “But I will be in the hotel sleeping in a few hours after the performance because I’m exhausted, so don’t get killed.” She teased further, smiling over at you with a mouth full of food.

“You think I should meet up with him?” You asked nervously, biting your lip and wondering how to respond to his text. He still had the performance that night, so you knew it would be late when you’d meet with him.

“I don’t see why not.” She shrugged, offering you a bite which you politely declined. You quickly typed up a text.

Well I actually ended up getting an investment meeting and I didn’t want to jinx anything, so yeah, I’m here if you wanna go for coffee tonight or something?

You didn’t want to seem too excited, but your brain was buzzing, too hopeful for meeting with the boy who had your heart wrapped around his finger. Mark quickly responded.

I’d like that, yeah!

We have the performance later and we’re about to start getting ready for it, so I’ll text you when I’m free?💚

You sighed happily, things were looking up. He seemed just as excited to meet up with you as well. It was a few weeks since you got into your argument and not long before that was the last time you’d seen him, so you feared slightly that things would still be awkward or messy, but you didn’t want to focus on that and thought that things might actually be okay. The fear still sat in the back of your mind, but you’d try your hardest to ignore it. Thankfully you were able to go drop by the hotel after walking around for a bit, maybe you did need just a little bit of a rest before the performance.

You got to the hotel and got settled in, changing your clothes to be a little warmer and layered and of course not at all to look nice for Mark. You checked yourself out in the mirror, grinning at the outfit you decided on. “How do I look?” You asked Irene, who was already chugging down a glass of wine from the minibar at the hotel.

“Looking good, yeah. Someone to impress?” She was teasing yet again, giggling and pouring herself another glass of wine.

“Shut up.” You laughed, grinning and pulling your coat on. “Are you coming to the performance with me?” you asked with a giggle.

“I’m pregaming for a reason aren’t I?” She cocked a brow, shrugging. You rolled your eyes. Irene didn’t drink much, but she had made sacrifices for you so you didn’t mind her drinking on the job.

“You’re always pregaming.” You snorted, slipping your feet into a nice pair of shoes. “Are you warm enough?”

“After this wine hits, I will be.” Irene grinned, walking over to grab her coat. She looked flawless as always and it made you sick, wearing a black turtleneck and khaki pants. She fixed her lipstick quickly in the mirror and pulled her coat on to easily go out. “Now let’s go get your boy back.” You groaned, cheeks heating up and grabbing your phone to make your way out of the door.

The concert stage was packed, as you expected, but shockingly to your surprise, when you got there, security walked the two of you to the front, not asking any further questions. It left you to assume that one of the boys had hooked the two of you up. You’d shown Irene to Mark and the others through various selfies, so you weren’t going to bite the hand that fed you just to get a better look at the boys on stage.

The performance went perfectly, grinning and watching them put on their best performance. You sighed happily, loving the feel in the air. The wind was chilly, but you were fully willing to endure it just for them. You caught all the boys from the 127 chat you were in glancing at you at least once and it made your heart race, but you were in perfect view and you were sure they were looking for you in the first place. That was even more exciting. The crowd dissipated after the small performance, leaving you and Irene to walk around aimlessly while you waited on Mark. Irene was getting a little grumpy, assuming the wine drunkeness had worn off and factoring in that you had flown through the night. “I’m ready to sleep my ass off.” She warned, groaning at the cold.

“You can go ahead to the hotel if you want.” You warned her, making sure she knew you could fend for yourself.

“And leave you here in the middle of New York?” Irene snorted. “You sign my paychecks so I’m definitely going to make sure you’re safe so that I get paid.” She was further teasing. She had a funny way of letting you know she cared about you. You walked around for about an hour and Irene happened upon a spiked hot chocolate from a street cart before you got a text from Mark

Where did you want to meet up? There’s a little coffee shop a couple blocks from our hotel that’s open late if you wanna go there?

the streets should be pretty clear by then because it’s dead cold out ya know🥴

You grinned ridiculously wide, quickly telling Irene what you’d been sent. “We’re gonna go meet at a coffee shop, you wanna walk me there?”

“Absolutely not, but I definitely will.” Irene laughed, tucking her phone and keys into her pocket along with her hands. “Let’s go.” You got the location from Mark, beginning to make your way there because you weren’t too far from it. You both ended up getting a taxi after two blocks at your expense to make up for Irene being in the cold for so long. You didn’t want to make her walk, but the ride wasn’t far, and you happily did it for her comfort after hearing her shiver and complain. You got to the location and you were surprised to see how empty it was, the two of you getting out and standing at the corner. You quickly pulled out a cigarette from your pocket and lit it up, earning a groan from Irene. She hated it, but she knew that wasn’t going to stop you.

You were shaking from nerves, but you were excited to see where the interaction was going to lead you. You and Irene were talking about some work developments when you heard a loud “Hellooooo” from behind you. You turned around, gasping when you saw Mark and Johnny both in masks and hats. You quickly took a drag of your half smoked cigarette and tossed it on the ground when you saw Mark eye it.

You had to admit you were a bit starstruck to see Johnny. He was huge, massive even and you glanced at Irene to see a cocked eyebrow on her face, clearly checking out the tall boy. You pulled yourself from your distraction, grinning at Mark who had his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Hey.” Mark started, his eyes showing his smile above the mask. You got closer, the two of you embracing like your lives depended on it. You sighed softly, almost feeling tears well in your eyes as you held him tighter, never wanting to let go. His arms were around your waist, gently thumbing over your back through your coat. “it’s good to see you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, right by your ear. “You smell like cigarettes.” He giggled into your neck.

“Shut up, I’m sorry.” You laughed. “It’s good to see you too.” You spoke quietly, still in his embrace and you somehow pulled him tighter, eyes closing and it felt like an eternity. “Um, this is Irene.” You your head toward her and felt Mark lift his hand from your waist to give her a wave.

“You must be Mark.” She stated, shrugging her shoulders. “Heard a lot about you in the last two days.” Mark didn’t seem to mind or catch on that you’d told someone else about him, just thankful that you were with him.

“Um, so, I’m Johnny.” You heard loudly behind you, a laugh being pulled from both you and Mark as you let go of each other. Johnny was introducing himself to Irene, shaking her hand and the grin on her face looked unbelievably pleased. You shook your head, giggling at her before turning to Johnny yourself. He opened his arms wide to hug you, quickly running to his embrace. It was only a quick hug, him patting your back in a friendly manner before pulling away. “Nice to finally meet you!” He exclaimed; grin wide on his face under his mask as well. You turned back to Mark, who quickly grabbed your hand to tangle his fingers with yours.

“Johnny’s a hugger.” He warned with a small laugh. “He’s been practicing all day how to greet you.” Mark said with a hint of sarcasm and you saw Johnny’s face contort to glare at him.

“And Mark exaggerates everything.” Johnny came back confidently.

“So, we should go.” Irene shot her attention to Johnny, seeing him shrug with a nod at her statement before turning back to you. “Leave you two be, yeah?”

“I’m game.” Johnny agreed quickly with a shrug. You were a bit stunned to see Irene being so forward. “Did you need a ride to your hotel? I’ve got an Uber on the way and I’d hate for you to walk alone.” You were also stunned that Johnny was seeming to take to Irene that quickly from what you knew about him. You didn’t miss the flirtatious energy he had with the charm in his tone.

“We’ll see you two later.” Irene nodded, following behind Johnny. You had a weird feeling that the two of them would end up more than just going home even though Irene claimed to be so tired, but it wasn’t your business and they were adults, so you would leave it alone and let them do whatever they set out to do.

You heard Mark clear his throat. “So, uh.” You heard him laugh softly. “You wanna go inside or freeze to death?” He teased.

“I’d like to not freeze to death, please.” You both grinned, hand in hand as you both walked inside. You saw Mark look around, making sure that nobody in there was paying any attention to him. He had to make sure he was in extremely good standing when it came to being out in public in such a big city, especially this soon after a concert. He looked relieved, pulling you to a dimly lit corner of the shop. You both sat down with a sigh, seeing a much older waiter come to the table to greet the two of you. You both glanced over your menus and the silence was comforting. You both put in your orders before Mark slid his mask below his face after feeling comfortable enough. He looked so beautiful without makeup on like that, so relaxed, the soft shadow of his facial hair made your face warm.

“So, you finally got to meet Johnny.” He teased, seeing you roll your eyes and grinning wider at him. “How was that?”

“Yeah, it was great, we’re best friends now.” You joked, hearing Mark let out a hearty laugh. “I’ve heard ten words and he’s the greatest.” You both snorted.

“Good to know, good to know yeah.” He was giggling more, and you felt like your heart could burst. “So, um, how is everything?” he asked shyly, his hands placed gently in his lap.

“Well,” You shrugged. “Things are okay,” You cleared your throat again. “A lot is going on with work and I’m about to open a new store hopefully next year here if the meeting tomorrow goes well.”

“Ah, yeah, yeah, the meeting!” Mark nodded. “So, you came here for that?” He was asking with intent and it felt nice for him to be interested in you again like that again. It felt comfortable. “I was actually really shocked when you sent that picture, I couldn’t believe it and when I saw you in the audience I got really excited. I almost thought you were fucking with me and grabbed a picture off the internet or something.” He was blushing, a wide toothy grin on his face. “Johnny apparently told the security to let you and anyone you were with to the front, not my doing.” He snorted with a shrug.

“Ah, so Johnny is the master relationship specialist now isn’t he?” Mark couldn’t stifle his laugh when he took a sip of his coffee.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that.” He snorted again, grinning. “He’s like the number one pusher when someone says they’re going to date so, it’s like, his thing.” He admitted with a shrug. “When I first told him about you his first reaction was like ‘An American? You have to do it, it’s the law if you’re my friend’ and got way too excited. He’s always trying to hook anyone up but never really finds someone for himself.” You thought back to him and Irene’s reaction to each other and stifled a snort.

“I mean, he’s taking my assistant home.”

“Yeah, I kinda caught that.” He was laughing again. It was nice to see him happy here, he always seemed excited when he was in the states anyway, so you were glad he enjoyed spending time with you too.

“Don’t worry, she’s the best.” You warned. “He’s in safe hands. She keeps me every day from making horrible life decisions.” Mark looked a bit confused at that but waived it off. “Some of them at least.”

“Well, that’s good yeah.” He cleared his throat, calling for the check. “So, you wanna get out of here?” His voice was slightly low, and you didn’t know what was up, but at that point you were willing to do anything for Mark. You’d only been there for a short time and only ordered coffee, so you were both fine with leaving so soon.

“Sure, let’s go.” You nodded, groaning a bit when Mark handed his credit card to the waiter to pay for the both of you. You learned quickly that it was just how he rolled, it didn’t matter if you could easily pay for yourself or not, he was definitely a sweetheart and liked treating you. The two of you strolled out back onto the sidewalk after he put his mask back on.

Mark was walking closely with you, not holding your hand or arm because he was still afraid of being caught in public and getting his reputation ruined. You’d both been so lucky to not get caught especially since the two of you were always in bigger cities where a disaster could easily strike. The small chatter of the light conversation had you feeling like things were definitely going to be okay and Mark seemed pleased, talking to you about the weather and how he thought he’d get sick soon if he kept having to change climates. You wished him the best and recommended vitamins that he just brushed off with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m hearing you I just know I’m not going to do it.” You both were giggling at that point and you both didn’t even know where you were going, just aimlessly walking along the street, coming on a dimly lit part of town. You both sighed, glancing at each other with soft grins. Nobody was in sight and he just looked so perfect. You stopped in your tracks which caused him to pause in place. “What’s up?” He asked, eyes full of wonder.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, sighing. You scooted closer, seeing Mark’s Adams apple bob in his throat. You reached up and gently pulled his mask down, biting your lip before leaning in and pressed your lips to his tenderly, your bottom lip slipping between his soft ones. For a moment, you forgot about your problems. A low noise left his throat and he eagerly kissed you back, his hands fumbling to come out of his pockets to reach one up and place it on the side of your face, pulling you in closer as his breath dusted your skin. His breathing was hitching, his other hand gently tangling in your hair and his lips got more aggressive, sweet noises being pulled from him. You were the first to break, eyes fluttering back open and glancing at him before he kissed you again, this time much more pressure and neediness before breaking off quickly.

“Your hotel or mine?” He spoke breathlessly.

“Find out where Johnny and Irene are.” You grinned, pecking him once more and he quickly whipped out his phone. You didn’t miss the bright blush on his face before he pulled his mask back up as he texted his friend. There was almost no time before Johnny responded back that he and Irene went ahead to a karaoke bar to meet up with Jungwoo and Jaehyun. You had no idea how or when everything had gotten so crazy, but all you heard out of that was that your hotel room was empty, and you wanted Mark as soon as possible. “My place is open, then.” You grabbed his arm and pulled up your directions, quickly calling for an Uber to bring you because somehow the two of you had ended up extremely far away in the cold and gotten caught up in the conversations.

When you both stepped into the Uber, Mark’s hands were on your thighs and you had to bite back the urge to have him right then and there because not only would it be uncomfortable, it was rude, and you liked your private time with Mark. You placed your hand on top of his and you saw the grin reach his eyes as he stared out of the window, sitting much too close to you in an empty back seat. The minute you pulled up at the hotel, Mark groaned and let out a quick, “Thank god.” You laughed in response, tugging him by the hand into the building and easily making your way into the elevator. The second you were inside with the doors closed, Mark couldn’t keep his hands off of you, harshly kissing your lips in the empty elevator with both hands on your face and your back pressed flush against the wall.

Mark wasn’t ever so needy, and you definitely didn’t mind. You detached and pulled him immediately to the hotel door, giggles pulling from his lips as you made your way inside, the two of you tossing your coats on the floor and went straight back to making out. His tongue easily found entrance to your mouth, moaning at the heat of the moment. It felt so good to kiss Mark, both letting out heavy breaths and as he pushed himself closer to you, you could feel his arousal pressed against your hip, the heat in your core throbbing. This was the least talkative you’d both been in the bedroom, but words didn’t seem necessary. You backed him over to the bed, laying him down and you loved how flushed he looked, like he was all yours as you sat in his lap, barely hovering his small frame. Mark groaned, hands finding your hips and you reached down to him, tossing his hat and mask off the bed.

“Damn, I could get used to this.” He giggled again with a dopey smile and his disheveled hair spoke volumes. You rolled your eyes, smiling before kissing him hard again, his hands reaching down to gently grope your ass, soft hands kneading over your bottoms and you couldn’t help but to giggle into his mouth. It was suddenly very warm in the room, much too warm for all the layers you both had on and you pulled away from him, panting and out of breath. Mark looked so beautiful and flushed that you could moan, sighing and pulling off the top layer of your shirt before working his off as well, leaving him in a white button up that was much too wrinkled. He looked so soft in white, you had to remind him of that later. You tossed your top away, the underlayer riding up and Mark slipped his hands up the fabric, groaning at the fact that you’d neglected to wear anything but shirts. His hand found your breast, kneading at the flesh as you gasped, grinding your hips down on his.

“Mark,” You sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He groaned as you leaned closer, slipping his other hand under your shirt and toying with a nipple, the two of you much too flustered to make any other commentary. He lifted his knee up to lean you back down, kissing harshly again and your hands worked their way down Mark’s shirt buttons, feeling his muscles tense under you along with his breaths. His hips moved up to get any kind of friction and you loved how much he wanted it. You didn’t question him, easily opening his shirt before going to his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them slowly to tease him, his breathing got heavier with every move.

You moved your hips back a bit, settling more on his lap before slipping your hand into his boxers. He gasped at the coldness of your fingers, but he didn’t complain. Your hands were still cold from outside, but it seemed more like an exciting difference. Your fingertips danced along his length, feeling him bite at your lip sending you out of this world. “Want you, now.” He panted against your lips and you weren’t one to deny him. You quickly slipped back between his legs to tug your pants off as you let his arms fall back to his sides, but Mark couldn’t wait.

His hands were on you again, quickly tugging at the fabric and pulling them off of your legs with a fire in him you hadn’t seen before. He tossed them on the floor before hovering over you again. He tugged your underwear to the side and pulled his length out of his jeans. You sighed heavily as he pumped at himself a few times, eyes hooded. You caught his eyes, the two of your faces a complete mess. “Fuck,” You panted, earning a breathy laugh from him before pushing him back down on the bed to take slight control again. You sat with your clothed folds along his length, rubbing yourself with closed eyes and you felt him grasping at the bed sheets, panting at the feeling. “Condom?” You questioned, hearing him gulp and try to fish one out of his shirt pocket.

You giggled a bit at his anticipation, but you weren’t going to comment and embarrass him further. His face was already so red and spent when he handed the packet to you, a smirk playing on your face as you tore the foil open with your teeth. His hands were searching your body, slipping underneath you to lift your hips up. His fingers snuck under the fabric of your underwear and played in your arousal and you swear you heard him moan. You were a bit distracted as you fumbled with the rubber, his fingers dancing along your clit before slipping two inside, quickly quirking them forward toward himself and you hushed a moan, panting heavily as you tried to slip the condom on him, a mess of hands and sweat making you both see fog. You rocked down onto his fingers, wrapping your own around his length and jerking him off slowly, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

His arousal was so evident with the redness of his cock and you were nearly dying to have it inside you. He slipped his fingers out of you when he couldn’t take it anymore, moving them to his own lips and you gasped when you saw him slip them inside of his mouth. You were quiet, just ready to have Mark again. You lifted your hips and watched him suck his fingers clean, lining him up with your entrance and the crotch of your underwear pushed to the side. The two of you hadn’t been so hasty or fumbling before, but it seemed oddly fitting.

You sunk down on him quickly, pulling a throaty groan from the boy underneath you, his head tipped back in ecstasy. You let out a noise of satisfaction, happy to finally have him inside again, enjoying it for a minute before he got eager, his hips moving himself inside of you just barely. “C-can’t take it anymore, need to feel you.” He panted out, his lips swollen and pouty as you grinned, rocking yourself down on him. You barely registered his warm hands on your sides again until he pulled you down, your clit grinding against his pelvic bone and you saw stars, whining a bit as you pushed your hips down against him again, the friction driving him wild and he was whining.

You didn’t expect those noises from him, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. He was panting more and more, and you were chasing your high, loving the way Mark filled you, sweet noises filling the hotel room and the wet sounds of skin on skin made your head spin. Mark’s breathing was heavier than you ever heard it before, and he was gasping. “Gonna-gonna come.” You were a little surprised, usually his stamina was good, but this time something was different. You heard him gasp loudly one last time, his eyes screwing shut and you felt him shake lightly underneath you. You stilled your hips, giggling at how out of it he was, and you let him ride it out, gently moving your hips until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Sit-sit on my face, please.” He pleaded with droopy eyes and you weren’t going to deny him.

You were hesitant at first, crawling over and hovering over his face, He pulled the crotch of your underwear and ripped slightly, then with full force tore the fabric open then all the way up and tossed it off to the floor, smirking below you and you gasped.

“Did you just-“

“Yep.” He cut you off with a grin, pulling you down by your thighs and pressed his tongue against you.

“Oh fuck.” You whined, feeling your knees get weak as he lapped at you, moaning as he sucked softly at your clit. You were lost for a bit, trying to bring yourself back down to earth when you heard your phone ring, gasping again when he slipped his tongue inside before pausing. He pulled away for just a moment.

“Answer it.” He smirked again before pulling you back down.

“It’s Johnny!” You whined, grinding down back onto his tongue. He shrugged underneath you and you hesitated, deciding to let it go to voicemail and Mark had the audacity to laugh. You quickly picked up your phone with shaky hands just to barely read a text message from the aforementioned person.

Since neither of you two are answering, I just wanted you to know I’m taking your friend back to our hotel, she’s tired and a bit plastered so I’m gonna let her crash there. Have fun you two 😂

It felt like a taunting message, waving it off and tossing your phone back somewhere else on the bed. You didn’t exactly care what Irene was doing at the moment, but she seemed safe with Johnny, so you ignored it. You sighed of relief when Mark nudged his nose against your clit, looking down to see his extremely hooded eyes and you could have burst right there. You moaned loudly, reaching down to gently grab his hair and the noise he made vibrated through you, his tongue flat against your clit and it threw you over the edge, pressing yourself hard into his face and the grip on your thighs tightened, his fingertips almost aching as they pressed into your skin. He continued to lazily lick through your high, pulling away to place soft kisses on your thighs when he figured you’d had enough, bright red blush still evident on his face. You glanced back to see he had discarded the condom and there was spurts of come glistening on his stomach, you flushed again, realizing he’d come from eating you out. Mark was going to be the death of you. You crawled off of his face, collapsing on the bed next to him, both of you panting.

“That was-“ He started.

“Yeah.” You both ended up laughing, Mark tossing his arm over his face in embarrassment. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” He let out a heavy breath.

“Please, say less.” You snorted, cuddling up to his side and realizing exactly how disgusting and intense the situation was, but you felt so satisfied it didn’t matter. You took an idea, smirking before reaching down to touch his stomach, dancing and teasing your fingertips in his come.

“D-don’t.” He groaned when you looked down to see his half-hard cock slightly twitch. “Give-give me a minute.” He pleaded. So you did, but it wasn’t going to be over just yet, you both knew that.

-

“The breakfast here is nice.” Mark was smiling shyly, sitting in the corner cafe with you. The place was relatively empty and you liked that Mark had to find places to easily hide from photographers, it gave you a bit more space from people in general, but the quietness of Mark was also a bit weird. He was smiling, but much more shy than before, but you assumed it was because of the situation you were in and he was a bit uncomfortable during the day anyway in a normal situation.

“Yeah, I love breakfast food.” You shrugged, taking a bite of your own food, enjoying the silence. You both were a bit sad because you were going to part ways that day, which seemed like another reason that Mark was being distant. You weren’t used to seeing him for only a minute and it felt weird to have only went on a date and slept with each other, so you sighed, seeing Mark pick at his food and eat in small bites. You frowned. “So, you guys heading out later?”

Mark nodded, shrugging before looking up at you. “Yeah, we’re headed back home after this, so.” He had a sad smile, looking up to catch your eyes. “I’m-um, sorry we didn’t get to hang out more.” He added shyly.

“No, no it’s fine, I’m just glad I got to see you.” Mark was smiling with his mouth full and it made you feel better. He was fidgety in his chair, probably from nerves.

“Yeah, I really am glad I got to see you too.” He nodded, sighing softly before taking a drink from his glass. “And Johnny and your friend seem to still be having a good time, they got breakfast this morning.” He snorted, wiping his mouth. “Everyone seems pretty happy.” He sighed again.

“You seem nervous.” You pointed out finally, settling your hands in your own lap.

“Yeah, I don’t really feel like leaving yet, it’s always a bummer when we go home.” You frowned, remembered how much happier he was in North America but it was interesting to hear him admit he didn’t want to go home at all. You felt bad that he had to leave, and you wished he could stay. Mark needed to be back at his hotel in an hour or so, so it was nice that he was spending his last bit of time with you. He said himself that he would’ve just been sitting in his room all night long probably, so the fun you guys had was at least worth it. “I hate coming here for like two days.” He frowned. You sighed and reached over the table to gently squeeze his hand. His smile was soft, but it was worth it. You both finished up your food and sheepishly made your way outside to head your way to his hotel.

When you pulled up, the taxi stopped at the corner and Mark looked at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. He sighed and squeezed your knee gently before wrapping your arms around you, hugging you tightly and relaxing into your neck. You both pulled away after a heartfelt embrace, frowning at the fact that you had to separate once again. “Text me?” You asked softly and got a warm nod before he pulled back to lean in for a kiss, his soft lips making your face feel hot. It was a tender kiss, one that longed for something more ,but you knew it was time. “I’ll see you later.” You got a grin back.

“Yeah, I’ll, um, see you soon, okay?” He giggled softly, opening the door and sighing as he stepped out, waving back at you as he made his way back into his hotel in the clothes he was still wearing the day before. You didn’t mind seeing him like that though, it reminded you that the two of you had your time together.

You saw Irene saunter out of the hotel, a grin plastered on her face and sunglasses covering her eyes. You shook your head in disbelief, snorting when she stumbled into the car, a cup of hotel coffee in her hands.

“So, it looks like your night was nice.” You teased, raising a brow at her.

“God, you don’t even know.” Irene was laughing. “My makeup is so messed up and yet I woke up to a gorgeous man making me hotel coffee in boxers and a white t-shirt and I still didn’t get his number.” She groaned, smile still painted on. “I literally never do anything like that, and I know you’re my boss but you have no room to judge me.” She shrugged again.

“Well, I’m not going to judge you, but I also have to mention that I do have that guy’s number.” You saw her mouth agape.

“Holy shit give it to me.” She was serious and you almost had to laugh. “He meant to last night, but we got, um, distracted.” She cleared her throat.

“Johnny right?” You giggled as you joked, scrolling through your contacts as the taxi made its way back to your hotel. “Yeah, it’s right here.” You showed your phone to her, seeing her excitedly type it into her own phone. “You’re not gonna like, text him right now are you?” You snorted, taking your phone back after she added it to her phone.

“Oh of course not, I’m going to wait it out and see if he asks you for mine, then I’ll have it for when he decides to hit me up.” She was always very forward, shrugging. It was actually extremely funny, but you wouldn’t push her forward. “But I also got hardly any sleep last night, so I want to take a nap before we head to Jersey.” You had actually forgotten that you were supposed to head out that night, but you figured it definitely was a good idea to go there tonight before the morning conference.

“Shit, I’ve still got to make prints.” You groaned.

“We’ll stop by a print shop on the way.” She was always thinking ahead, you were thankful, but you could definitely tell she needed some sleep and it wouldn’t hurt for you to get a nap in. You and Mark had practically been up all night anyway because of jet lag and other things, but you’d shut your mouth on that one. Irene was yawning, so you figured it was best to keep quiet.

You both took an equally satisfying nap, only a few hours passing by. Thankfully when you got up you were both easily ready to go, showering quickly and making your way out and wait for your Uber. You both decided it was the best and easiest way to get to Newark and it wasn’t at all long of a drive. Your mood was slightly down, still thinking about Mark and quickly realizing the two of you hadn’t actually talked about any of your issues. It left a sore spot in your heart and the rest of the ride felt a little weird. You stopped to make prints on the way and didn’t miss the stupid grin across Irene’s face.

“What’s up with you?” You asked, trying to ignore the feelings in your own chest.

“Johnny’s really cool.” She shrugged, sighing happily as she scrolled through her own phone. “I ended up texting him and he said thank god I got his number and you know I don’t normally do that.” She snorted. “Maybe we can both have some fun. How was Mark, dare I ask?”

You sighed heavily, a slight smile playing on your lips. “He was great, we, uh, didn’t talk really, so I’m kind of bummed, but I think it’ll be fine.” Irene frowned a bit, sighing.

“I mean maybe he got over it?” She offered help, but it didn’t really seem accurate. “Maybe he realized it doesn’t matter and you guys are going to be fine.” She nodded, giving you a wide smile before turning her attention back to her phone. “Johnny says they’re about to head out.” Her giggle made your eyes almost roll. You hadn’t heard from Mark at all, which made you worried, but you weren’t going to pry.

“Okay get this, he’s got a weird really bad tattoo on his ass that says I heart Chicago.” Irene was snorting and you felt your chest get tighter, trying your best to smile at her and act like it was all fine. “He’s really weird and I know it’s quick but I kinda like him, he’s cool.”

“I get it, I get it.” You snorted, almost trying to change the subject. You whipped out your phone to see no new messages. You sighed again. “So,they’re-“ You cleared your throat. “Theyre about to board?” You asked, biting your lip and knowing you shouldn’t ask questions.

“Yeah, John said he’s got on-flight wifi so we’re gonna play some dumb game tonight.” Irene reminded you, just making you even a little more upset. If Mark had on-flight wifi then why couldn’t he text you on the plane too? Or even before? Your head was swimming in thoughts and wondering what was going on, so you decided to send him a single text.

Fly safe!

He wouldn’t know that you meant it condescendingly, but you were just looking for a response at all. The only thing you really got from them at all was group messages, unfortunately from everyone but Mark. Even Jaehyun, who was the least active member of the groupchat, was being active, You didn’t understand why Mark wasn’t talking, but you began to feel like you were overthinking. You felt like banging your head against a wall, waiting for your prints to hurry up. The car was waiting outside and as soon as the last one printed, you tried to rush a laughing Irene out to it, but she wanted to review and invoice everything, so she was lagging. You needed some fresh air, standing outside. You lit up a cigarette, trying to relax. You were mad at yourself because you’d been really trying to lay off smoking, but when you weren’t around Mark and your anxiety was high, you needed it. You read over the messages you missed a couple times, they were mostly talking about how crazy America always was, but all you wished is that Mark’s name would pop up on your phone.

You were halfway down the cigarette when your phone buzzed, glancing down to see a simple, effortless text from Mark.

Thanks! I’ll let you know when we land

You felt like crying, but you needed to be strong. You never did get that text, still only getting responses in the groupchat and you knew Mark had to be fine because the rest of them were acting normal, but it pained you since he wasn’t very forward with his feelings. Taeyong hadn’t even messaged you so maybe Mark was fine, and that hurt more than anything. Maybe he was fine and perfectly content without you and you just had to hope that it was just your mind making that up.

The meeting went perfectly, thankfully. The city was clean and the two of you had a wonderful time walking around and discussing the proper real estate investments. You’d wanted to open a new location on the east coast for a while, but never took the steps to get it done and now the keys were almost literally in your hand. There was tons of work to do, but you knew you could get it done. Irene would be on campus there for the first 6 months after the building details were worked out and things seemed to be going well.

Except the fact that in your heart, nothing felt right. At the point when you got home, you still hadn’t heard from Mark or anyone else, but a gut feeling made you not want to ask. You were worried and only had small talk about Johnny with Irene and you hated the amount of jealousy you were feeling from not getting your own interest to talk to you. You were normally tough, you were normally the one to ghost people due to distractions, but you’d just seen Mark a few days ago and he was in your bed all night, so why hadn’t he messaged you aside from that one message? He was normally blowing up your phone prior to the entire incident with him finding out. Why wasn’t he worried about talking to you anymore? He seemed to really be getting along with you in the hotel room.

It made you sick to think about, how easily you two slept together after a big conversation and part of you felt a little used, slightly heartbroken and unresolved because it was so obvious that everything was falling apart, and you stayed hopeful when you shouldn’t have. You had a whole new store opening up and you should’ve been focused on work, but all you could think about was the fact that you were only getting one or two pathetic messages from him a day until they became days apart, only rarely getting a half-assed response from the group chats when he didn’t respond to you.

You missed Mark.

You felt sick. Things got harder, they did, and after about a month of suffering, you stopped responding all together, just hoping Mark would pick back up in talking to you on his own when the time got right, but you felt a bit hopeless and you were right. Mark was no longer making an effort and it had been about three weeks of smoking heavily and not talking to him at all. Your chest hurt when you saw him on your social media timelines. Your love for them felt so different and you almost felt sick each time you saw his smile. You heard about their new song coming out and you realized just how long it had been since you’d seen him. Time passed by so quickly and it was two days shy of two months and you tried not to cry, but you missed how things were and part of you knew this would happen, you just didn’t expect to take it so hard especially for so long.

You’d flown out east on location multiple times because due to how the meeting went, investors were pushing for opening sooner and you’d been successful at every single opening yet with immaculate concentration and precision. You felt nice to have the distraction of worrying about work, but each time you stepped into the crisp New York air, you were pelted with remembrance of your night with Mark and wondered what went wrong after you left him. Things looked perfect from the outside when you were there, but you wished you could’ve changed how it went. Maybe you did something wrong along the way that you weren’t picking up because Mark had been all over you and he was the one who pushed sleeping together, so you were left dumbfounded and trying to remember that the new location was important and you needed to ignore your feelings about the hurt in your heart from the last place you saw the person you called your boyfriend. You didn’t know where you stood anymore.

You hated that you got so wrapped up in the idea of Mark that you ended up ruining it all by fearing you’d ruin it. You were aching for him to call you, talk to you, anything because he still would be so close to you all year with promotions. Hell, you’d seen the SM Entertainment schedule for the whole year of 2020, and he’d be there in the states constantly especially with a new Neo City tour that stopped immediately in Los Angeles in June. Before you knew it, February had come up and you wished you could stop thinking about the fact that Mark would be in your state with SuperM in only a few days. You tried your hardest not to be hopeful, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You’d been staring at the StubHub app for 30 minutes now and SuperM tickets were going lower and lower by the day and they looked so pleasing, to maybe see him again and talk, maybe catch up, meet up, anything. You went over it a few times in your head and after a long day of work and a glass or so of wine, you made the horrible decision of buying tickets.

You swallowed after you pressed pay, leaning back in your bed and thinking about what you’d done, but it felt like the right choice. They were going to be there within the next two days and you had to chance it. Maybe you’d get your answer. You bought two tickets because the closest spot available only had two seats, so you sucked it up and decided to go for it. You didn’t even think about who could possibly accompany you until you gasped at realization. You opened your phone again to quickly call Irene, who was supposed to be at home by now.

She answered after the first ring.

“Hello sweetheart!” You hadn’t seen Irene much over the last couple weeks, the two of you busy with store arrangements and whatnot. She’d been interviewing for the new hires in Jersey as soon as the new year started, the two of you rarely crossing paths between flights, and she’d gotten back last week, so hearing her voice felt nice.

“Irene!” You had to take a breath.

“What’s the situation?” She snorted and you could hear her flipping through her keys in the background. “I’m just getting home so it better be good.” She was teasing, but you had to calm down before speaking to her properly.

“I just bought tickets to the SuperM San Diego show and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me.” You spoke much faster than anticipated but you heard a small pause over the speaker. “They’re performing there, and I want to see Mark but I think it was a bad choice because I’m freaking out. Help me, please.”

“I think I can do it.” She was giggling and you knew it was a good sign. “What day is it?”

“The 30th of January.” You groaned, realizing that it was only two days away and you’d have to travel there from Los Angeles, which wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t an extremely far ride either. You heard silence again before a sigh.

“You’re literally insane.” She snorted. “Yeah, I’m in.”

“God you’re a lifesaver.” You laughed, almost on the verge of tears. You wanted to see Mark, you had to. It felt like the only appropriate way to do it and your mind was still really fuzzy from missing him, but at least you had someone to indulge with you. She knew the two of you hadn’t spoken and the tension was touchy when you saw each other and tried to avoid bringing up the subject of your love life due to the unfortunate circumstances. Irene didn’t pry, she never did.

“Is Johnny going to be there?” She giggled softly and you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

Of course, Irene was lucky and had kept contact with him and you were at home for weeks moping about the one you were sure you had lost. You sighed. “No, he’s not in that group, ‘Rene.” You snorted a little, shaking your head. “But he’ll be here in June if you guys are still a thing.”

“Ugh, the things I do for you.” She sighed heavily, but you could tell it wasn’t serious. “Yeah, I’ll come, we leave Friday morning?”

“What about Thursday evening?” You bit your lip, hoping that maybe you’d get a chance to see them when they landed, maybe you’d get the gumption to text Mark and handle everything and you’d both be fine again. Realistically you knew that that was a low probability, but you had to try. Maybe Ten and Taemin could help you out again. They were the main ones who got you into that mess in the first place, maybe their presence would help. You were freaking out in your head and you didn’t even register that you were still on the phone until you heard your name getting yelled at you. “Uh, s-sorry I got distracted, what were you saying?”

“I said it’s fine but you’re booking the hotel.” She was laughing again. “You gonna actually hang out with Mark, not just sleep together? Are you gonna talk?” You groaned in response, not really wanting to tell her what you were up to, but you wanted to fill her in at least a little. You fibbed a tiny bit.

“We haven’t talked in a week, I thought I’d surprise him.” You bit your lip and hoped Irene was nice enough to understand.

“Perfect, it seems to be a habit of pulling up on him, yeah?”

“I guess so.” You sighed again. Maybe you should text him, maybe he was more relaxed since he was soon to be in the states and was going to go to his hometown soon. Maybe he’d be in a better spot to respond to you. You tried to reason in your head that the possible reason that you two didn’t talk much was specifically because he was out of the country again. You were trying to remain hopeful.

“Okay, well you seem distracted, so I’ll call you later?” You knew she was right; you couldn’t even hold a conversation.

“Okay, love you.” You sighed again, biting your lip and wondering what had brought you to the point in your life where you were showing up randomly to see a guy. You never thought you’d be in that position to like anyone so much before.

“Love you too! I’m gonna go home and pack. Get some rest tonight!” You definitely needed the rest. It had been a few weeks since you really got a decent night’s sleep, so you hoped her blessing meant something. You sighed and hung up, shaking your head to try and pull yourself back together. You opened your phone back up, scrolling through social media to steady your mind, which happened to end up the opposite when you found an update that very clearly stated that the members were in LAX that morning, literally miles away from your home and you blinked in shock. They were there already? You tried to steady your breathing. It was a sign, you needed to speak to Mark soon. You had no idea where he was or what he was doing at the moment, but being so close to you had to mean something.

[lovecraftian-druid]

Pactborn V

The clear, ringing sound of eight bells echoed out across the cool air hovering above the Turquoise Waves as midnight brought the moons to their highest point in the sky that evening. Putting out his pipe prematurely at the sound, a scruffy half-orc midshipman straightened from his leaning position against a mast, pulled his jacket tighter across his chest, and made for the top of the stairs to fetch his relief.  “Bahriin!” You’re on watch!” he hollered down below deck.

Startled and exhausted, Ka’l rose from her hammock, staggering for the first few paces as she woke up and regained her balance. Scratching the sleep from her eyes as she searched about for her sandals, the fifteen-year-old groggily made for the main deck to take second watch for the third night in a row. The slight chill in the air was a welcomed aid to staying awake as she was passed the lantern, its warmth too kind to do anything more than make her want to fall back asleep.

As a way to keep her mind occupied, she unfolded her green fleece over her lap, rubbing one of the corners of it between her forefinger and thumb as she practiced the newest piece of magic she had recently realized she could cast: whispering the incantations, she swallowed back tears as she produced a minor illusion of Jida's smiling face, jolly with its deep-set wrinkles, just the way she remembered it. She practiced in this way for an hour or more, looking up every few minutes at first to scan the waters from up in her crow's nest; however, she eventually became so focused in her practices that she didn't notice the air grow thick with fog…or the ship that silently floated ever closer to the Golden Afternoon.

Ka'l felt her concentration disturbed as the sound of three bells brought her mind back to the task at hand: keeping an eye on the waters. With the jarring realization that the mist had swept in upon them, she fumbled for her telescope and felt her heart beating in her temples as she scanned the horizon, cursing under her breath at her accidental negligence.

There are times one genuinely hopes or prays for the best in a stressful situation, and then there are times when one already knows that the worst is about to come, no matter how much supplication they offer up to otherworldly entities: the latter is exactly what Ka’l was experiencing at that moment as her brass eyeglass fell upon the tattered sails that bore the face of a crudely-painted canine amid azure waves. Her heart jumped up into her suddenly dry throat as she realized what was about to take place, knowing there was nothing she could do now to stop it - she leapt from the crow’s nest, partly riding down the soggy wooden pole before latching onto a rope to swing the rest of the way to the deck as she yelled at the top of her lungs, “PIRATES! PIRATES OFF THE STARBOARD SIDE! BEAT TO QUARTERS!”

Tripping over her own feet as she ran, head racing, Ka’l desperately rang the deck’s bell, summoning all hands to the main deck.  As a few sailors surfaced from below, she watched as the ship sailed ever closer into range, ignoring any effort to provide a suitable berth for safe passage around them. Standing at the helm, with one boot casually perched against the rail as he leaned out over the front of the boat, a calico-furred tabaxi eyed the merchant vessel with visible hunger. Ka’l watched with dread as he raised a curved blade in the air - holding in there for a moment or two - before lowering it in her ship’s direction as he shouted, “Lock it down!”

Stunned by what she was witnessing, Ka’l stood there, immovable, as the light from three fireballs glistened as distance tangerine reflections in her eyes before something rock-solid blindsided her, sending her slim frame skittering along the deck. Disoriented and alarmed, she rolled over to meet Mica’s gaze, his grey-brown skin tough as gravel matched his commanding tone as he motioned and yelled for her to stay down. He had not yet finished his last word before - boom! boom! boom! - the blazing balls of fire crashed into the sides of the ship, scorching a hole right through the hold and incinerating one of the masts’ sails.

Debris rained down from above, some of it still burning hot with flames, as Ka’l covered her head in fear, still prone from Mica’s heroic tackle. As she lifted her head to assess the damage, her eyes took in the all too efficient havoc that was being wrought upon the Golden Afternoon: mages of substantial abilities flew in from the pirate ship as though they had wings; others appeared out of thin air upon the deck, carrying others with them though a dimension-like door; the remaining swashbucklers swung from long tethered ropes from one ship to the other, effortlessly boarding the now smoldering vessel as her ill-equipped sailors tried in vain to defend themselves.

Lost in a moment of despair, Ka’l did not notice until she reached her hand out to grab Mica’s that the young genasi boy was not moving. “M--Mica?” Ka’l stuttered, convinced that her eyes had deceived her. “Mica, c’mon, we need to get out of here...please, grab my hand…” She tried to pull in out from under the splintered piece of mast that had fallen in the initial chaos, but she was unable to pull him from beneath. Wiping the soot from her face, she crouched low, covering him from the torso up with the green fleece, its warmth no longer needed as the ship sweated with high-burning flames.

Ka’l darted between one-on-one battles that were taking place, calling as she ran, “Darja! Darja! Where are you?!” Escaping below deck, she found him, wet with fearful perspiration and muttering pointless positivities to himself as he rocked back and forth in his velvet-upholstered chair. “They’re taking the ship! Why aren’t you up there with us?” Ka’l rebuked, her voice catching a bit in escalating anguish. “We need you right now! Get upstairs!” Her skin hot with anger, Ka’l felt a foreign sensation rising up within her as a darkness - not yet unearthed - welled inside her, ready to explode like a geyser.  She felt the daggers her eyes threw at Darja as he quickly stood to his feet, seemingly more shaken by her sudden change of aura than by the situation at hand. It was strange, but Ka’l sensed as though she had a literal shroud of darkness surrounding her at that moment, unsure of what would happen if she didn’t pull herself together.

“I--I--I understand, I’ll make my way up to see if I can reason with their captain,” Darja stammered, knocking over several items on his desk as his hands fumbled about, seeking guidance for a path while his eyes remained locked on Ka’l, “perhaps we can come to some sort of a parlay...I’ll be off now,” he trailed off, backing away towards the ladder in an effort to keep a visual on the young Ghaanian.

Taking but a moment to steady herself, Ka’l scaled the ladder shortly after.  Noticing that the brief battle aboard the deck had come to a stand-still, she scanned the crowd of pirates and sailors until she locked eyes on that which she sought: the calico-furred pirate. He dressed neatly yet informally, but there was no mistaking him for anything other than the ship’s captain - he had a certain air to him, a swagger in his step, a cool and calm tone in his voice. “Greetings, all: I know the hour is late, so I won’t keep you long - my name is K’Sirr, captain of the Sea Wolf. I’m sure we all want to head back to our warm beds or, I don’t know, put out some fires perhaps; but before we move on to more exciting things, I must have a word with your captain…” He gave a pause, his green eyes scanning the audience for anyone who might step forward, before adding, “Come, come now, don’t be shy, we truly don’t want anyone to get hurt - we simply need to arrange for some goods to be exchanged.”

Ka’l could tell that her breathing had leveled out, and for that she was thankful. She stayed ducked behind a small panel, peering out to get a view on the crew: to the best of her knowledge, everyone was there and alive, save for Mica and Darja. Sliding around to the opposite side, she craned her neck as far as she dared to check for any stow-aways near the deck closet - sure enough, too plump to wedge himself inside and be able to close the door, Darja stood, trembling, hunched awkwardly in the small cubby space. Her ears steaming with rage, Ka’l could have sworn she heard a low, silky voice in her head saying, “Why should he get to hide from fate?” Without more than a second thought, Ka’l felt her hands waving and arching in sharp staccato motions as she conjured up a translucent arcane hand, oddly shaped like a tiger’s claw. Raising her right hand to her face, she thrust her fist into the open area in front of her and swatted at the air, watching her mage hand do the same as it opened the door, causing Darja to spill out onto the ground with a loud thud.

K’Sirr’s feline eyes dilated as his head turned in a flash to zero in on Darja’s stout form, now floundering to right himself amid the buckets and mops that tumbled out with him. His eyes locked onto a set of leather boots as he slowly turned his gaze upwards at the tabaxi man towering over him. “Am I to presume that you are the captain of this fine vessel?” purred K’Sirr, his words thick with sarcasm. Darja’s jaw hung open as he stammered, looking as though he could wet himself at any moment: this gave Ka’l a satisfaction she had not realized she craved.

Then it happened - whether it was an attempt at flight or a foolish desire to fight, Darja pulled from his vest a small dagger and lunged for the pirate’s chest; K’Sirr, however, was quick to react and his kukri streaked out just in time, causing Darja to inadvertently spear himself on it as he tried to rush the calico tabaxi man. A little surprised himself, K’Sirr held him there for a moment before withdrawing his sword. “What a shame,” he commented softly, sounding genuinely disappointed as he wiped his blade off on a handkerchief he produced from one of his pockets, “I was really hoping to avoid anyone getting seriously hurt tonight…”

Ka’l hardly had time to react as the pirate captain’s eyes shot in her direction, meeting hers and causing her to jump. She tried unsuccessfully to dock behind some crates, knowing full well that she had been spotted. Still, she heard the captain call out to his men, “Take only what we need, leave the rest and tend to the wounded…” he trailed off for a moment before continuing at a louder volume, “so sorry about the mess, all - we’ll be out of your hair as quickly as possible.” Ka’l held her breath as she heard the steady-paced foot falls of the tabaxi’s boots. Bracing for the worst, she pulled her knees up close to her chest and waited for the inevitable. There was a second of stillness before K’Sirr’s gentle voice met her ears: “Come on now, you’re tougher than this,” were his first words to her. She looked up to finally meet his gaze - his eyes were kindly but wild, a creature seeking only excitement and adventure. He extended his hand out towards hers as he continued, “I saw you earlier, before this all began - you would have stared down three fireballs if it hadn’t been for that lad who pushed you out of the way.” He let a stifled chuckle slip at the memory, but Ka’l felt her anger flare with a monstrous passion.

“You killed him...you said you didn’t want to hurt anyone, but you killed him, he’s dead...he tried to save me, and now he’s dead....” Ka’l bit back tears as the words spilled from her mouth - she was without fear in this moment, unconcerned of her own safety and mindful only of the injustice dealt to her closest friend aboard the ship.

K’Sirr’s facial features shifted once more to that of great concern. Ka’l heard him call over his shoulder in the direction of one of his men as they hauled a large sack from the hold: “I need you to send for Sasha at once, GO.” He got down on one knee as he spoke two words very softly - “Show me.”

Ka’l got to her feet and led him to the fallen mast. She pulled back the fleece blanket to reveal the young boy, still pinned beneath the weight of the wooden pole.  A half-elf woman with upwards of ten small hoop earrings in each ear came rushing over to K’Sirr’s side then dropped to her knees once she laid eyes on the boy.  Her hands moved swiftly and deftly; Ka’l watched on in amazement as the woman pressed her fingers to his neck and announced, “He’s still alive, but he’s barely breathing - I’ll do my best.” Clutching a serpentine amulet that dangled loosely from around her neck, the half-elf pirate whispered a prayer as a wave of positive energy washed over Mica, and Ka’l sighed in relief when she heard him take a large gasp of air.

Finally able to move, Mica weakly leaned out toward Ka’l as she fell into his arms for a tight embrace. Ka’l hardly heard the woman as she got to her feet to make for the pirate ship. She turned to express her gratitude but saw only K’Sirr standing there with his arms crossed in front of himself, happy to see that the boy had pulled through. Low but still meaningful, Ka’l produced a quick “thanks” and extended her hand for a shake. The tabaxi pirate obliged her and placed his other hand over hers as they shook.

Bending his head to meet Ka’l’s averted gaze, he asked, “What are you doing here with these sailors? I sense you want something more from the sea, and I can teach you how to get it - what say you? Fancy an extended tour aboard the Sea Wolf? You’ll see places you never knew existed and become rich beyond your wildest dreams...we need only find the treasures this world has hidden for us to seek after.” He waited for a reply, but no words came from Ka’l as she stood there, staring off into nothingness as white smoke from extinguished flames mingled with the fog. “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer...it was nice to meet you…” His voice trailed off, anticipating a name to be given. No answer came. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” he finished and turned to leave, walking back towards the gang planks that had been dropped to bridge the two ships.

Ka’l stood there, her mind clouded with indecision. Rich beyond your wildest dreams...what if? What if she could lay up enough gold to return home, move Jido, Jida, and Mama to Felgra to be closer to Papa’s fleet, help purchase a beautiful house? But how could she justify becoming one of the very things that Papa and his men fight so hard to combat?

K’Sirr boarded his vessel, assuming his position near the wheel as the rest of his crew made preparations to set sail again while the few remaining stragglers finished dragging their plunder up into their ship. He pulled a cold sum of sea breeze into his lungs, satisfied with his crew’s haul, when he felt a tap on his shoulder: turning his head, his eyes fell on Ka’l, her two different-colored eyes welling with tears. “It’s Ka’l...my name is Ka’l…” she blurted out as she choked back her emotions, still unsure of her decision.

“Ka’l...is that short for Ka’lya?” he asked, unable to hide a grin. She glanced down and to the side with a frustrated nod. “Alright,” K’Sirr resumed, “well, I’ll call you Ka’l since that’s what you seem to prefer - now what do you say we go find some treasure?”

=============================================================

Thanks again for any and all who take the time to read - as the backstory of Ka’l Bahriin progresses towards a natural cliffhanger, I’ll be gearing up to introduce another PC next, so stay tuned.  If you’d like to be added to the taglist for these installments, let me know.

Ye Olde Taglist: @serenewrites​, @mayvinwrites​

[alleycat97]

Your Destiny

Pairing: Kamilah x MC. Rheya x MC (Aurora)

Description: MC(Aurora) and the council discover the truth of the first vampire and possess the Amulent of Nero. Being a Bloodkeeper, MC uses the Amulent to be called towards the bleeding tree, to fulfill her destiny.

Disclaimer: Not my characters. Not sure if any of this is correct, my vampire knowledge isn’t the greatest. It’s fun anyway, just writing for the Kamilah endgame. Enjoy y’all! Kamilah is Queen! *very light smut.

They finally escaped that imprisonment from the creepy hillbilly out in the Nevada Desert, taking with them The Amulet of Nero containing the Vial of the first Vampire. Aurora knew the second she touched it, the vision she had, she could see Rheya and a bleeding tree that called to her. Whispers calling to her, ‘blood calls to blood, flesh draws to flesh’. She could feel the power, the desire, the lust, it was all calling her.

“Kami?!” Aurora called out in panic waking from her nightmare. It was another vision of Rheya calling to her. Showing her what lies ahead for the mortal, stabbing the tree to fulfil her destiny.

Kamilah bolted awake, reaching to comfort her poor mortal lover, “Are you alright dear?”

Aurora decided it best to explain everything from the moment they snagged the Amulet, “I had another vision. Rheya is calling to me. She is the first vampire, The Queen. I saw a tree, it was bleeding, I watched her stab it and drink from it.”

Kamilah mulled over the information she received, deciding best to comfort her girlfriend until Adrian could meet them.

“It calls to her. The Amulet is a portal of some sort for her. Rheya calls to her through it.” Kamilah explains to Adrian.

“Why can none of us feel this connection?” He ponders.

“It must be her Bloodkeeper line. Bloodkeepers are rare correct? Maybe one every generation? She is pure first blood.” Kamilah explained. “She just hasn’t unlocked her abilities.”

“What do we do now?” Adrian asks walking back and forth.

“We must destroy the tree.” Kamilah spoke, Aurora pouting at the idea. “But...”

“No love, we must destroy the tree that gave us life. It’s bad enough we have this vial to keep from Gaius, it all has to end.”

With extensive research and constant bickering among the council, the whole gang reluctantly traveled to the former City State of Mydiea in search of the cave that holds the tree. All members in agreement to destroy the tree. Aurora felt the pull as soon as she stepped foot in Mydiea, with Rheya’s guidance and the smell of blood filling her senses, Aurora bolted for the unknown, startling the rest of the group.

“Aurora wait! It’s too dangerous!” Adrian yelled while Kamilah bolted after the young girl.

“Aurora stop! We must go together.” But Aurora couldn’t stop, Kamilah couldn’t stop her, the young mortal was being pulled by an unknown force.

The council followed closely behind until they were all stopped by two dark figures,

“Hand over the Vial and I might spare you all in my new world.” Everyone in the room knew the voice. Gaius.

Kamilah finally gained control over Aurora and pulled her into the furthest corner, handing her the vial, “Keep this safe love.” Kamilah and the council skipped the introductions and started the grand fight with their creator. Gaius may of been weak, but along with Jameson, he was still a force that had these 6 vampires hands full.

Under the cover of battle, Aurora was pulled to the tree, the Connection with the Amulet edging her closer until she kneeled before the tree, one hand on the bark, and the other around the Amulet. Rheya consumed her mind, pulling the young mortals soul from her body in the middle of the battle. Aurora came to in a temple. It was calm, quiet, she could feel herself now, kneeling before Rheya.

“Rise my child, for you are the true heir of the first vampire, the direct descendent of the 1st son, Prince Xenorates.” Rheya spoke lifting the young mortal to her feet. “I’ve called for centuries to my kind, but you dear, the very first bloodkeeper to answer my calling, you are pure, you are my savior.”

Aurora stayed quiet, allowing her connection with Rheya to answer her questions, she instructed her to stab the tree and drink its blood from the chalice, allowing her bloodkeeper powers to fully activate. Then to drink the vial, allowing herself to be consumed by Rheya, and unlocking the power of the first vampire.

“Go forth young mortal, make me proud, fulfill your destiny.”

“Yes my queen.” Aurora bowed and returned to her body to find Gaius standing tall amongst the nearly beaten council demanding the vial.

Kamilah glanced pleadingly with her eyes to Aurora to stay quiet. Gaius saw the stare and turned his attention to the mortal.

“Ah yes. The young mortal, the bloodkeeper. Hand it over.” He barked.

Aurora didn’t listen and quickly pulled her dagger, piercing it deeply into the tree, collecting its blood in the chalice.

“What is she doing!?” Gaius yelled toward Jameson.

“Master! It’s the tree! She can’t drink that!” Jameson pleaded trying to stop Aurora but it was too late, she had consumed the blood. Nobody knew what a bloodkeeper was capable of, but Aurora could fill a change, she felt stronger, she felt weightless. It was then when she pulled the Amulet out, breaking it to expose the vial.

“Stop her!” Gaius yelled as he and Jameson approached the bloodkeeper. The council looked on in fear, the fear of the unknown. The fear of being in the presence of the first.

“Don’t!” Kamilah yelled at her lover in fear. But it was too late, Aurora had consumed the vial, stopping an angry and startled pair of Gaius and Jameson in their tracks. The cave began to shake, the air grew thin and the floor began to crack and open. The trunk of the tree had split open and all could see Aurora’s body being taken over by a mysterious cloud coming from the tree, Rheya.

The vampires looked on speechless and scattered as far as possible as the small mortal transformed, Bruce Banner/Hulk style into this incredible being that towered over Gaius and Jameson. Rheya was using Aurora as a vessel and while she was transforming the duo tried to kill her while she had her guard down. Aurora quickly, with the use of her eyes only, shot an electrical current towards Jameson that blew him into a pile of ash. Gaius stopped dead and begged for mercy when Aurora turned to him, she powerfully flicked him with her index finger, decapitating him and sending his body across the room.

The council looked on in shock as Rheya used Auroras body, turning her attention to them next. She scanned over the frightened council and decided to spare them. Quickly transforming herself back into the small human frame that was Aurora.

Aurora passed out from the abduction and the council debated on what to do. If they should kill Aurora in her sleep, or leave her untouched. The threat of her unpredictable behavior with Rheya consuming her scared them. Her unlimited power was something the world wasn’t ready for. They were among a force none of them could control. But as they looked on at The 23 year old Aurora, who began to snore, they took a gamble and let her be free. Kamilah taking responsibility for her. She was in charge of keeping Aurora in check, making sure Rheya didn’t completely control her after all. She took this risk on one account, the love for her. She loved Aurora no matter what and if this love ended up getting her killed then so be it, she wasn’t going to abandon the girl.

The council kept tabs on Kamilah and Aurora, who was still in a slumber days after the battle and arrival of Rheya. Consuming the amount of pure blood she did apparently caused a sickness that kept her shutdown. It was only a guess however, but one thing was forsure, with Aurora being asleep, she couldn’t harm anyone.

Kamilah kisses her unconscious girlfriends temple, it was a habit before she went to bed. But before she could get out of the room, she heard her voice,

“Kami?”

Kamilah stopped and tensed up, it was going to be her first encounter with the woman since her turning, “Yes, love?” She replied timidly.

And before Kamilah could fully turn around, she felt a very firm grip clutching her throat and was being forced chest first into the door grasping for air. Fear taking over her, she wasn’t sure what was going to happen, she was no match for Aurora’s new strength and power.

Aurora pressed herself deeply into Kamilah’s back and she held her by the throat tightly against the door, slowly taking in the woman’s scent. She could feel the panic in the older vampire, her body was trembling. She took her nails and drug them across Kamilah’s neck earning a never before heard whimper. Aurora’s lust grew in each passing second. She was in control now, with all intentions to show Kamilah she was the boss now. She stood up on her toes to reach Kamilah’s collarbone, slightly piercing the skin with her teeth, getting a small sample of blood.

“Mmmm, Kami I’m so hungry.” Aurora moaned out, keeping Kamilah held by the throat firmly against the door. “I think I found my next meal.”

“What are you gonna do now that you got me.” Kamilah asked unsure If she should be scared of turned on. Hell, she was both.

“Oh my queen, I’m going to devour you.” Aurora groaned out before sinking her teeth into Kamilah, getting a much needed taste of her lover. Kamilah moaned and screamed out to the new sensation. Being took over and over by the Vampire Queen was exciting.

When Aurora finally pleased herself, she was about to leave Kamilah, who appeared to be paralyzed, lying naked on the floor alone to rest. Aurora felt herself being thrown back onto the bed, hands firmly held above her head. Kamilah looked into her eyes and flashed her fangs, “It’s about time I show you who the real queen is darling.”

[nelvana]

In which the forest of ice is explored

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which curses are spoken of Previous: In which those at home do what they can

    Ninetales was going to be harder to reach this time. Nelvana knew that.

    She carefully sat in her perch from a pine that they had decided to camp by. It was one of the few sturdy trees that sat in the ecotone between the burning Mt. Blaze and the freezing Frosty Forest. From up here, she could see where the land began to become covered in a thick layer of ice and snow, where the temperature would only plummet from here.

    This time, she would have none of the advantages that had helped her before. She would not have Alex’s speed, Keahi’s warmth, or even Tsuki’s guidance. In fact, Gengar’s “ability” to absorb heat along with her ground-typing might complicate this even further.

    None of these concerns had been brought up to her traveling companion, or her teammates back at home. Despite the dread building up inside her at the thought of having to pass through this area again, she didn’t want anyone else to worry. While she could not remember it, she felt like she had been through worse anyway.

    Quietly, Nelvana made her way down the tree and onto solid ground. Between the heated area they had just passed and the frozen area they were about to head into, not much grass was able to grow. She glanced over at Gengar, still sleeping and undisturbed from the cubone’s movement.

    Deciding to give him a bit more resting time, she wandered over to their lifeless firepit to check the coals. She hadn’t stirred it to properly make sure no fire would restart yet, and procrastinated this task even longer as she picked up one of the coals to test its warmth. With disappointment, she found that they had already naturally gone cold from the chill of the night. Nelvana had had the sudden idea to take some coals with her for extra warmth, but evidently that wouldn’t work now. Perhaps if they had located themselves where the wind was blocked more, then she would have been able to put this plan into action.

    Brushing out her hands and scattering out the remaining coals, Nelvana stood up again and turned back to her client, still sleeping. She wondered if she was actually quieter than she thought, or if Gengar was just a really deep sleeper. Regardless, she knew that they would have to continue on this journey soon. Risking having to still be in the Frosty Forest when night returned felt like sealing their defeat. They couldn’t waste this daylight any longer.

    “Gengar.”

    Nelvana stared at Gengar, waiting to see if he would respond. Nothing. This had been easier the previous night; what made this different this time?

    “Gengar, come on, we need to get up and going,” Nelvana insisted, louder this time.

    For a moment it looked like he was actually going to wake up, but he just rolled over instead. Curiosity ebbed at her at the idea of seeing if she would be able to get away with stealing the bag without him waking up, but she didn’t feel willing to waste that much time for curiosity’s sake.

    “Gengar I’m going to throw one of these coals at you if you don’t wake up.”

    A woman of her word, Nelvana waited a few moments to give Gengar a chance before she turned back around and picked up one of the coals that weren’t buried in the dirt. She even waited for a couple more seconds before following through and chucking what was basically stone at this point at the sleeping ghost-poison-type.

    Now, he shot awake, “w-wha- Hey! What was that for?” Gengar snapped.

    “I warned you,” Nelvana chuckled, “you wouldn’t wake up, and I’m afraid that you stealing my body heat when I try to shake you awake right before we go to possibly the coldest place on this continent is not how I wanted to start this morning.”

    “So, you threw a rock at me,” Gengar stated bluntly.

    “A coal, actually,” Nelvana corrected, before pausing. “Sorry though, I didn’t mean to hit that hard.”

    Gengar narrowed his eyes, but then relaxed again and exhaled instead of giving her another retort. One of his ears twitched irritably before he seemed to gather himself enough to speak again.

    “Fine, let’s eat and then head out then,” he sighed, pulling the bag onto his lap to search its contents.

    There was only the food for this morning meal and a bit extra to carry over just in case, which was fine with the knowledge that another storage statue would be coming up soon. If they didn’t have that to help them out, Nelvana would have made sure to pack more food to begin with.

    “Alright, so we’re going to have to keep our distance more now,” Nelvana announced as they began heading out on the trail again. “Otherwise, I will freeze here,” she gruffly admitted.

    Gengar nodded with an amount of understanding and respect that continued to surprise Nelvana. Once again choosing not to mention that confusion, she continued to lead them off into the Frosty Forest, allowing herself to go further ahead of her client than she normally would. She would check over her shoulder every once in awhile to make sure that she hadn’t accidentally lost him, but fortunately he was diligently following every step of the way.

    No snow fell from above even as it seemed to appear on the ground. In fact, the skies were clear with a nice sunny day. This would have made them feel better if it didn’t make the snow gleam dangerously into their eyes. Nelvana had to squint as she trekked forward; wishing that she had sunglasses with her instead. At least the shadows coming off the edge of her skull helmet’s eye sockets provided her with some slight assistance against this.

    Regardless, the snow only continued to mount up as they continued, each misstep sending one’s feet sinking deeper and deeper into the white flakes. There were no signs that anyone had travelled here lately; any previous footprints covered up in the most recent layer of snow. Nelvana was running on her memory of her last visit through here and her general sense of direction to make sure that she wasn’t putting them off path in any way.

    It was nearly two hours since they had departed that morning when they had arrived at the storage statue together. Nelvana shivered from the cold and had been able to see her own breath in front of her every since they spotted the first snowflakes on the ground; so, she was incredibly thankful when they made it to the iced chest. Gengar stood behind her at a respectable distance as she opened up the box, rummaging through it for proper winter supplies.

    Inside the chest were all the cold-weather clothing they owned, of which Nelvana swiftly donned the sweater and tail warmer she had used before, as well as the gloves that Alex had bought from Kecleon. Said gloves were made for those with one less finger than she had, but she with fine with putting two of her fingers into one of the finger holes of the glove for the extra warmth it would provide in the long run, over skipping out on the clothing entirely. She did also try using the hat that Alex had worn, but there was no real good way to fit it over the other headgear that she already wore; and considering the skull also covered her face from the wind among other things, she preferred to keep it on over the hat.

    As she pulled the sweater over her head and began readjusting her scarf, she felt the fabric of the mobile scarf tickle her neck. She couldn’t help but chuckle at this, and she pulled out the purple object. It was almost funny how she hadn’t needed it thus far, and continued forgetting about it even being with her. Would it have been possible to accidentally walk through a wall? Nelvana doubted it, but imagining how that would go down was an interesting thought.

    However, she felt like she should hold onto it in a more secure place. Nelvana couldn’t see it being needed for its intended function; but at least it was extra fabric, meaning it had the potential to provide extra warmth. She took off her left glove so that she could wrap the tattered scarf on its usual spot around her knuckles before tugging the glove back on her hand.

    Unfortunately, there was no other clothing that had been made for this sort of mission. Which, considering the suddenness of the entire thing, Nelvana couldn’t say that she was surprised. All of the winter clothes that were left were the other warmer and the hat, leaving Nelvana with an odd feeling of incompletion with them…

    “Hey, Gengar, will you need anything too?” Nelvana asked, glancing behind her. “There’s a hat and… tail warmer left if you’d like,” she offered.

    Gengar shook his head, “nah, I can take the cold pretty well, don’t worry about me. Do you have everything you need?”

    “Almost… just give me a few more moments, alright?” Nelvana responded, earning a quick “mhmm” as a reply.

    Turning back to look inside the chest, Nelvana made sure to bring out some more food, knowing that walking through deep snow took more effort than an ordinary hike though. She quickly passed these items over to Gengar with the bag before continuing to search the chest.

    When pushing aside some of what she deemed less important items, she found some stones carefully wrapped together with some cloth. It was already warm to the touch, so Nelvana opened it up to see what was inside; finding some hot stones collected up together. A smile grew on her face at the sight, and the thought that someone from home had put this together to help make this part of the journey just a bit easier. She had no idea how long these would last, but they would help for however long they stayed heated. For now, she would just hold them in her hands to help the blood circulating through them without just freezing.

    “I think that’s it!” Nelvana hummed, closing the box and looking over at the entrance of the dungeon before turning back to Gengar. “There were some heated stones in there too, so hopefully that will help out.”

    “Heated stones?” Gengar repeated, “from Keahi then,” he clarified.

    “Probably,” Nelvana agreed, “if it was him, I’m glad he decided to help keep us warm despite not being here himself,” she continued.

    “Wait, ‘him’? Isn’t Keahi a girl?” Gengar questioned, “did I miss something here?”

    “He’s genderfluid,” Nelvana corrected, “so, sometimes he is a girl, and sometimes neither a girl or boy, but right now he is a boy,” she briefly explained, “this most recent change was mentioned in part of the message from last night, so I guess you wouldn’t have known.”

    “Oh, uh, alright…” Gengar shrugged, his tone suggesting that he didn’t entirely understand, but that he was willing to accept it regardless. “I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

    Nelvana blinked, and then turned away again, “okay… we should get going though. It will do us no good to just stand around here,” she murmured.

    “Got it!” Gengar replied, waiting for Nelvana to enter the dungeon before continuing to follow. “I didn’t actually know that the badges could do that, the messaging thingy, before I noticed you guys using it.”

    “Really?” Nelvana quirked a brow. “How long were you in a rescue team, and you didn’t mess with all the functions of your badge?”

    Gengar scoffed, but it was almost friendly this time, “we didn’t use anything we didn’t need. What use is figuring out a messaging system when everyone is in the same place and you have a psychic-type anyway?”

    “But you’re interested in it now,” Nelvana pointed out.

    Gengar sputtered at this statement, but instead of getting frustrated or just flustered, he ended up laughing it off, “alright, you got me. None of us ever really learned how to use the badge in general.”

    “You’re… in a good mood today,” Nelvana finally couldn’t help but mention.

    “Maybe so!” Gengar shrugged again. “I mean, we are almost there!”

    “Well, hate to tell you this then, but it will still probably take another day to actually get to Ninetales,” Nelvana told him, “there is a fair bit of distance from this dungeon to the next.”

    “We are still getting closer than before, at least!” Gengar replied.

    Nelvana flinched as a furret scurried in from around a corner, but made quick work of the dungeon spawn by punching it with brick break. Shaking her head to herself, she continued to the next room and up the stairs, keeping an ear out for Gengar’s footsteps as he followed her.

    “So, you’re a pretty good, uh, fighter,” Gengar commented.

    “And…?”

    “That’s… cool!”

    Nelvana turned around to give Gengar a perplexed look, and found him smiling stiffly. If he was capable of sweating, she betted that he would be right now. While she once again bit back any comments about this, she couldn’t help but find this behavior really confusing for him. What was Gengar up to?

    “All that winter… stuff. You got that from Kangaskhan, right?” Gengar asked, deciding to speak up again.

    “Yeah,” Nelvana replied, “the clothes, at least,” she added.

    “That was really nice of her,” Gengar responded, “Kangaskhan is really nice…”

    “She is,” Nelvana agreed courtly.

    Gengar clicked his tongue, and without even looking Nelvana could tell that he was trying to think of a way to keep up this weak conversation. There was silence for about a minute, enough time to bring them to the next floor, but then Gengar spoke up again.

    “So, that skull of your’s. Does it ever get uncomfortable to wear?” Gengar asked, “I can’t imagine that you would have worn something like that all the time as a human.”

    Nelvana swallowed, “no… it’s actually nice to have. Fits nicely, adds extra protection…” she murmured.

    “Huh, that’s, uh, nice,” Gengar said.

    “Y-Yeah,” Nelvana replied, her teeth beginning to involuntarily chatter from the cold.

    There were no more attempts for conversation after that, Gengar letting out a sigh of defeat, and they just continued making their way through the dungeon.

    While it wasn’t apparent at first, their pace did not stay very consistent, only slowing as they went on. They had gotten through the early third of the dungeon in under even a half hour, and yet they hadn’t since arrived to the safe room on the ninth floor after an hour of continued exploring afterwards.

    Gengar only ended up realizing this when he zoned out and accidentally caught up to Nelvana despite not believing to have started walking faster. And while he had to admit to having a terrible sense of direction, he couldn’t help but wonder a few times if that was the same tree that they had already earlier on this floor…

    “Hey, Nel… er- Nelvana, you alright?” Gengar called ahead, surprising himself with the worry in his tone.

    “I’m f-fine!” Nelvana responded, another unmistakable chatter of her teeth in her reply.

    This answer did nothing to stop the dread building up in the pit of Gengar’s stomach. Why hadn’t he taken note of her shivering frame only intensifying before now? Should he stop her, or would movement help keep her warm? She had packed extra food; did that mean something? She hadn’t asked for anything yet… All he knew for sure is that whatever he did, he had to stay back or risk making things worse…

    He didn’t want to though. The just watching and doing nothing helpful felt all too familiar in a way, and how Nelvana was forced to drag herself through all this snow was weighing down on his consciousness in a way that felt less familiar and more uncomfortable.

    But he would have to. Have to hope everything would turn out alright without him interfering.

    At least… Nelvana was still fighting. While her reaction time wasn’t the best, and perhaps she wasn’t hitting them as hard as usual, any dungeon pokemon still would usually go down in a single hit, making them the least of the worries here. They could focus on just finding the stairs and moving forward instead.

    Finally, they managed to climb their way up to the safe floor. Here, they paused for a moment for some snacks, though like any other break, it was brief.

    Nelvana also passed the stones that had been given to her from Keahi over to Gengar to put in the bag. When he touched them, he found that they were only warm at best now; obviously useless to be held onto for warmth now, but could be saved for another time.

    Gengar couldn’t help but notice here that Nelvana had stopped shivering. He hoped that was a good sign; that she was warming up on her own. No other reasoning came to mind on why the shivering would have stopped. She seemed to be oddly tired now, but perhaps that was just stress…?

    He shook himself out of his thoughts as he spotted Nelvana beginning to head out of the room. Only a few more floors… and then to shelter, he assumed. Gengar would have to ask later. She had mentioned there being a cave that she had rested in the last time her team was there, so he could only assume that that was their next destination after they completed this dungeon. Hopefully it wasn’t too far away.

    They hadn’t gotten too far into the next floor before Gengar felt the presence of a psychic-type. He flinched at the suddenness of this; especially after having not had anyone speak to him through telepathy in a long time.

    ~*Calm yourself, it is just me,*~ Ceebee’s voice faintly sounded in Gengar’s mind.

    “Ceebee?” Gengar blurted aloud in confusion, glancing over at Nelvana, who oddly didn’t seem to have noticed anything, before taking in a breath and trying to respond through his thoughts. *Why are you speaking to me?*

    ~*…I unfortunately must warn you of something. I would have gone to Nelvana, but it would seem that she isn’t in the right mindspace for telepathy right now,*~ Ceebee told him.

    The aggression coming off this statement sent a shiver through Gengar, *we’re just almost through Frosty Forest! She’s cold, but it’s fine…* he responded, hoping to convince her that everything was okay despite that not entirely being the truth.

    ~*”It’s fine”? Gengar, Tsuki just sensed danger that we still haven’t been able to calm her down from that is related to your mission, and now I can sense that Nelvana has stage two hypothermia!*~ If it was possible to yell through telepathy, Ceebee was definitely doing that now. ~*It had better be fine soon, because we can’t be taking any sorts of risks with this. Look, I’ll let you keep going for now, but the moment that anything else goes wrong, you had better use Nelvana’s badge and get back to base, got it?*~ she ordered.

    *G-Got it.* Don’t ever try lying to a psychic-type, even in the slightest.

    ~*Good. I will check in later then. I would be keeping a constant eye on you two, but unfortunately it is not the most pleasant thing to have to use telepathy with a ghost-type. So, you are on your own for now. Until we speak again, goodbye Gengar.*~

    Gengar couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when the mythical’s presence faded from around him. Telepathy wasn’t the most comfortable for him, either. Now that he had his thoughts to himself again, he mulled over the message that had just been brought to him. Ceebee was definitely forceful about this, though despite her best efforts, he could tell that she only threatened him out of worry. Team Galaxy was really worried about them… well, probably more Nelvana than Gengar.

    Realizing that he had stopped walking, Gengar hurried to catch up with Nelvana, who thankfully hadn’t gone too far away in that short telepathic conversation. His ears drooped as he watched the ground-type continue pushing herself further through the snowy dungeon.

    “H-Hey, Nelvana? How many floors do we have left?” he called out.

    It took a few moments, but Nelvana did quietly respond, “three… eugh, maybe fouur?” she mumbled.

    “Okay, thanks!” Gengar replied, feigning cheerfulness at this answer.

    The next room presented the stairs, and they made their way up to the next floor again. This next floor opened up to a larger clearing, and in the distant end of the room, a metang floated with its back to the pair. Nelvana slowly lifted her head to look over at the dungeon spawn, and stiffly shifted her grip on her club. Gengar blinked at the sight of this larger pokemon, and his gaze shifted from his ally to this foe before he hesitantly stepped forward.

    “Um… Actually, I think I want to try fighting again, alright? You can hang back for this one,” he said.

    Nelvana gave Gengar a confused look with her eyes before accepting this decision, letting herself relax again tiredly as she took a clumsy step away. Seeing this, Gengar took in a deep breath and approached the metang. He had never had to fight something of this size… Regardless, he knew that he was going to have to try, despite his fears. Backing out now would not only be foolish, but likely the sort of risk Ceebee had warned him against.

    Gengar readied himself in a loose battle position, readying a fist to attack the metang. He knew his shadow punch move would be reliable, even having the type advantage here.

    However, he stopped himself right before he was about to charge the move. Nelvana… wasn’t comfortable with that move. Perhaps it was one of his better moves, but he also knew that if he used it now, it would just make this experience worse for her… and perhaps, she deserved better than that. He had other attacks to try.

    At this point, Gengar had stalled enough for the metang to notice him standing there, and the steel-psychic-type began its advance. He stiffened at the sight, trying to recall what other moves that he could actually use here. There’s… lick? No, that move is super awkward. What else…

    When it dawned on him, Gengar almost felt like slapping himself for not remembering sooner. He knew sucker punch, which was also super effective. Plus, this metang was predictably about to throw themself at him to attack, so this move would be a safe bet.

    He could feel the dark energy readying itself around his fist, only growing stronger as the metang dove towards him with their steel claws glinting in the sunlight. Gengar’s attack landed first, and he punched the larger pokemon, forcing them a few feet away.

    Unfortunately, any victory felt at this was short-lived, as the metang was not defeated and still ready to use their own attack. Gengar stiffened again, realizing he was now fully vulnerable to this dungeon spawn, without any more ideas of attacks to use. He curled into himself, turning away from his foe and awaiting the impact of the metal claw move.

    The loud clank of bone against steel was what greeted him instead. Gengar looked back up just in time to see Nelvana’s club plop into the snow, and the metang to fall over before disappearing in a flash of golden light.

    “O-Oh, hey! Thanks!” Gengar blurted out, turning around to look over at the cubone.

    Nelvana was crouched on the snow with her tail curled around herself and her right arm laying limply in front of her. She seemed to make the tired effort to smile in response, but made no other movements or noises. Gengar’s own smile fell slightly, and the thought crossed his mind that normally the bonemerang attack was supposed to return to the user.

    “Heh, that fight worked out alright at least…” Gengar continued, idly scratching his arm. “You know, we actually handled that pretty well, together! Er, well… Here, let me just grab your club and then we can continue. You said three more floors, right?”

    “Three or two left now…” Nelvana mumbled, nodding slowly.

    “Great, let’s hope it’s that second one,” Gengar replied.

    Reaching down, Gengar pulled the long bone weapon out of the snow and shook any remaining cold flakes off of it. He was about to just walk over to Nelvana and hand her her item, but then flinched back at his own foolishness; if he got too close, he would just end up absorbing her warmth.

    “Uh, I’ll just slide it over to you then…” he murmured, setting the club back onto the ground and pushing it towards its owner.

    Nelvana barely seemed to acknowledge this until the club bumped against her foot, causing her to blink and actually look at her. She shook her head before grabbing it and pulling herself back onto her feet, beginning to take the lead through the dungeon again.

    “You still holding up alright?” Gengar couldn’t help but ask her.

    “’mm jus’… really tired,” Nelvana admitted, “but it’s jus’ the cold, I know I hafta stay awake… come on.”

    Gengar let out a sigh; at least Nelvana knew how to take care of herself, even like this. If he could feel the cold as badly and was as tired as she probably was right now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he would have just given up at this point; clicked the button on the badge and teleported back to a home full of warmth and relaxation.

    There were only two more floors after that one, fortunately. Gengar made sure to keep his word and kept trying to battle the dungeon pokemon, leaving Nelvana to hang back and just throw in her club if it was ever needed as a last resort.

    With this strategy, they managed to pull through the rest of the dungeon, exiting out and into the open air and sky again. An icy gust of wind blew by them, but there was still no falling snow from the sky. It seemed that through the dungeon they had managed to climb all the way up to a large, rockier clearing, with the snow-drowned pine forest stretching all around them.

    Nelvana didn’t mention Articuno; but after Moltres, the expectation was still there for the other bird legendary to arrive before they would be able to properly get out of here. And sure enough, there was the distant flapping of wings that only grew louder as they approached and landed in front of the pair.

    “Greetings,” Articuno said, holding themself more composed than Moltres had carried themself. “What brings you back through my domain?”

    “We’re gonn’ to see Ninetaless again…” Nelvana responded, doing her best to keep any tired slurring of her words out of her speech. “Need t’ask ‘er about the curss again, with him,” she added, gesturing vaguely to Gengar.

    Articuno nodded, “I see… Your client here, Gengar, you are the same that spoke to Skarmory about the false rumors before, are you not?”

    Gengar flinched, “h-how did you…?”

    “Moltres decided to pay me a visit late last night to inform me of your arrival here,” Articuno told him, “but have no fear, I have no intentions of threatening you like they did. I trust that… Cubone will keep you in line if you do try anything; though I do hope that you are on your best behavior here.”

    Gengar could only nod as quickly as he could in response. He did not want to piss this bird off in any way, especially since he wasn’t certain if they would actually be able to beat Articuno in this scenario.

    “Before I allow you to continue, however…” Articuno began, looking back over at Nelvana. “How does Absol fare with your team?”

    “’suki is doing good,” Nelvana responded, managing a small smile. “S-Sorry shee wassn able t’ come.”

    “That is pleasing to hear,” Articuno hummed, “Absol is quite the honorable person,” they added, “I shall not keep you two here any longer. You may continue on your way now. Farewell, and best of luck to the both of you on your journey.”

    “Thankss,” Nelvana replied.

    Deciding not to waste anymore time here, Nelvana accepted this dismissal and began to sluggishly make her way down the pathway again. Gengar waited for her to get some distance as he had been throughout this area, but then hesitated.

    “Actually, hold on for a second!” he called, watching for his ally to stop walking before he turned back to Articuno. “H-Hey, could you, uh… do us a favor?”

    Articuno blinked, “what sort of favor are you requesting of me?”

    “W-Well… Look, this is sort of a time-important mission and we already have a lot more to go ahead of us,” Gengar stammered, trying to figure out how one was supposed to ask a legendary for help. “It’s… It’s really cold here too, it’s kind of taking its toll on us, so…”

    “Go on,” Articuno prompted, their feathers ruffling with amusement.

    “Would you mind giving us a lift to Ninetales?” Gengar finally asked, “you know… Nel’s team did kind of save the world, it would be-“

    “Cease your rambling,” Articuno ordered, causing Gengar to jump in surprise. “I will take you both to see Ninetales; no need to attempt to convince me with your stammers.”

    Gengar’s eyes widened, “r-really?”

    “Indeed,” Articuno assured him, nodding.

    “This is great! Thank you!” Gengar exclaimed; he had done something right! “Nel! Nelvana! Come back! I got us a ride!” he called out again.

    Some of Gengar’s excitement faded when he met Nelvana’s gaze again. Confusion flickered in her eyes for a moment, as if she hadn’t completely caught up to what he had told her, and there was almost a sense of being lost with her tiredness.

    However, she continued pushing onward, and dragged herself back up to the others again. Articuno crouched so that the two of them would be able to climb onto their back with more ease. Nelvana managed to clamber her way up, and Gengar followed suit, doing his best to sit as far away from her as possible.

    Articuno stood back up again, spreading out their wings and taking off into the sky again. Nelvana stared with lidded eyes at the land that they were now above. It was… peaceful up here. She distantly wondered if she had flown with someone like this before, but couldn’t recall anything right away and let the thought fade away in the back of her mind. This had been a good idea at least; they would be able to-

    “-vana? Come on, we’re here,” Gengar pleaded.

    Nelvana opened her eyes; though she couldn’t remember when she had closed them. They were here already? Hadn’t they just taken off…?

    She shook her head, sliding off the large bird’s back and landing her numb feet into the deep snow again. Articuno said something that she couldn’t pick up, and then took off again and disappeared into the clouded skies, leaving the pair alone again. Taking a moment to look around where they were now, Nelvana remarked how this place was quite unfamiliar to her for once on this journey.

    “Alright, this is the Frosty Peak…” Gengar muttered to himself, “how do we get in…? Oh, this… is the top,” he continued, his ears drooping with this sudden realization. “I told Articuno to bring us to the top, but we were supposed to go through a dungeon; now we’re just at the top of this peak and the top of the cave! Dammit! Why did his have to get messed up…”

    Gengar continued to talk to himself for a few more moments, and Nelvana let herself zone out of his rambles. This predicament was definitely worrying, and distantly she was aware that she probably should be stressed about it or just try to help think of a solution… but somehow, she couldn’t work it up in herself to care anymore.

    “…I guess I could go through the wall, or teleport in. But I would have to hold onto you to bring you with me,” Gengar continued, “maybe there is a back entrance somewhere?”

    “Through the wall…?” Nelvana murmured.

    “What? Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m a ghost-type. But you aren’t, so that wouldn’t work…” Gengar replied.

    While Gengar continued pondering up a way to actually get into this cave, Nelvana slowly began fumbling with her left glove. It took a few seconds, but she managed to tug it off, and she looked over the purple fabric still wrapped around her knuckles.

    “Wait, is that my mobile scarf? Where did you-“

    Nelvana didn’t pay attention to the rest of Gengar’s questioning. Instead, she did her best to focus on the special item, and threw herself at the cave wall, fazing right through it to the other side.

    Distantly, she was aware of Gengar letting out a yelp as she disappeared indoors, but his voice was cut off the moment she made it inside. Not making much of an effort to land properly, Nelvana crumpled onto the stone ground, her club clattering on the floor not far away from her. It was immediately much warmer in here, almost trying to lull Nelvana to rest… But she forced herself up on her feet again, gently tapping on her arm to hopefully keep herself awake for just a bit longer.

    Gengar tumbled in not long afterwards, landing not any more gracefully than Nelvana had, despite probably trying more than she had for it. He grumbled to himself for a moment before glancing over at Nelvana, checking her condition with a quick look before turning his gaze away again to scan his surroundings.

    He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, the spikes on his back nervously bristling. After a couple more seconds to gather his courage, he opened up his mouth to try speaking again.

    “N-Ninetales? We… We’re here!”

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which curses are spoken of Previous: In which those at home do what they can

[capmerthur]

THE BODY SWAP

It’s all in the title :) Somewhere end S1 (after 1.11 Labyrinth, but pre 1.13 Morte). In a land of myth, and a time of magic, Arthur awakes inside Merlin’s body (and no, not in that way). Alternating Merthur POV. Bonus Gaius. Mentions of Will and George.

Excerpt PART IX:

"I have- I mean you have... Magic!"

Merlin's breath catches; panick rising. Arthur knows! Arthur knows?

"Yes, Merlin; you heard right! Magic! I saw water and wood floating above my head - floating, Merlin! - That's the only way to explain it! But I have no idea how it gets triggered, I have no idea how to control any of it - I fell and it happened, I guess, instinctively? Now you understand why I couldn't have us stage a fall... If people find out? *When* people find out? My Father will have me - YOU - beheaded!"

Merlin's eyebrow furrow. He doesn't understand. If Arthur knows he has magic? How come Arthur looks *contrite* instead of angry; afraid *for him* instead of afraid of him? 

(PREVIOUS CHAPTERS UNDERS CHAPTER IX)

IX. REVELATIONS (MERLIN POV)

Arthur looks anxious - which only makes Merlin worry more.

"I found out... why I was put into your body. I'm sorry, Merlin. I wear your chainmail because your body is in great danger; and it's all because of me... again. "

"Wha-"

Arthur cuts him with an imperative gesture from his hand, voice hushed - even though it echoes in Merlin's ears like a shout:

"I have- I mean you have... Magic!"

Merlin's breath catches; panick rising. Arthur knows! Arthur knows?

Arthur seems to read his struck expression though as simple denial.

"Yes, Merlin; you heard right! Magic! I saw water and wood floating above my head - floating, Merlin! - That's the only way to explain it! But I have no idea how it gets triggered, I have no idea how to control any of it - I fell and it happened, I guess, instinctively? Now you understand why I couldn't have us stage a fall... If people find out? *When* people find out? My Father will have me - YOU - beheaded!"

Merlin's eyebrow furrow. He doesn't understand. If Arthur knows he has magic? How come Arthur looks *contrite* instead of angry; afraid *for him* instead of afraid of him? Not that Merlin is complaining about the fact that Arthur obviously doesn't wish to see him beheaded, of course; his evident worry is even heartwarming, in a way... but heartbreaking, too, as Merlin can't help but feel that Arthur's reaction must be induced by some reason that he doesn't comprehend yet but that has little to do about him having magic at all...

Arthur then fully explains his theory about their attacker using his body to get to Camelot by erasing Arthur, then Uther, and marching against a Camelot lead by an unprepared servant playing Prince. Merlin is shocked, and shaken. Because indeed Arthur's reaction isn't about him having magic at all, but about Arthur feeling responsible for his body's impending doom. But what hurts the most yet is the heavy guilt that settles upon Merlin's chest - crushing, constricting, inescapable - as he realizes that in fact everything is his fault! Arthur's thinking may be flawed on one account; but the rest of it makes sense, indeed. And so Merlin cannot deny that Arthur has been targeted and put into his own body because whoever did this actually knows that he has magic.

And so Merlin feels panick rising again, and even worse than before. It is already complicated enough for Merlin to hide his powers - and he has had practice at it since his birth. How could Arthur ever successfully hide them for long... And to think that *HE* might be the cause of Arthur's death? It's worse than anything; worse than everything. And it's devastating. Merlin can't hold Arthur's gaze anymore.

Arthur probably thinks he is overwhelmed by the surprise of his body being a target though.

"And I'm sorry - again, Merlin - but I can't go and hide at some random remote place until I've worked out how to subdue it at least, if not suppress it. There is no time. I can't leave Camelot; not when it's so endangered."

Merlin feels like screaming: Arthur shouldn't apologize; Arthur shouldn't feel guilty - It's all on him!

"It's all right, Arthur. I know you're right: we have to stay here. After all, our best shot to end this mess is to find guidance in some books; and our best shot to find said books is staying here." (Also, you bet Merlin isn't willing to leave Camelot either because he is going to consult with Kilgarrah... Merlin had planned to go to the Great Dragon at the first occasion right when he had realized they had switched bodies; but he now can't help but wish for the night to come even sooner.)

Arthur looks surprised by Merlin's easy acceptance as he lets out: "I was going to point that out too?"

Arthur seems to hesitate an instant, taking a deep breath; but then, probably finally enticed by the fact that they still are on the same page apparently, he hushes out words that Merlin had never imagined he would ever hear, even in his wildest dreams.

"Now that's settled... Do you have any idea that might help me keep it in check? I mean... Back in Ealdor? Did your friend Will maybe ever share something with you that we could use? Anything?"

Merlin's mouth falls open; but nothing comes out of it. He realizes just how surreal it must have been for Arthur to utter those words. But Arthur looks decided, as always. He means it. And that's when Merlin realizes Arthur is in fact ready to *learn*. Arthur still doesn't trust magic, and definitely doesn't trust his magic now that he has some; he only sees it as a treacherous condition. But he is willing to face it, instead of wishing or pretending it isn't even there. And Merlin realizes that this isn't only proof of Arthur's mighty heart; but that it also might actually be their saving too, with some luck?

And so Merlin just HAS to take a chance. Anyway, Arthur *needs* him; and how could Merlin ever let him down to start with... Besides, what if it made Arthur realize that magic isn't only to be feared; that magic can be good, too, actually?

"Maybe you shouldn't learn how to keep it check, but how to have it *work*?"

Arthur opens his mouth now, either in shock or to retort - or both; so Merlin hurries to push his point.

"Hear me out, please. Even when we do find an helpful book? The spell we're under must be very powerful - I mean, have you ever heard or thought this could even be possible? - so we might still require magic too in order to perform whatever will be mentioned in the book? So yes, your new abilities are dangerous; but maybe they are a good thing too? You have MAGIC, Arthur. If you can control it and use it - on your terms? Maybe that's just what we need to solve our problem?"

Merlin waits. And Arthur isn't taking the opportunity to repel his idea. Silence goes on; and still, Arthur isn't refusing. If anything, he looks... thoughtful, even if doubtful. But there's resolve, too; and maybe, even, a spark of hope? So Merlin just takes the final plunge.

"As you said... I might have... some basic notions about it? It's worth a try, Arthur. What do you say?"

Merlin's heart is pounding so hard it's going to break his chest for sure, as they hold gazes for a long time - Merlin silently pleading for Arthur to just trust him. Then Arthur gives him a firm nod.

"I say this is probably folly but we have to try, indeed. So. You train me? And I train you."

Merlin tilts his head, unsure about the second part.

"There are things I want to teach you, Merlin", Arthur explains; pleads even. "In case we stay stuck in each others body no matter what we try; in case your body should- I know it's a lot to ask, especially as I apparently keep making your life a hell just by existing? But will you please let me prepare you to take my place, if necessary?"

Merlin's breath is knocked out of him. Arthur would trust *him* with *Camelot*? But Merlin cannot even contemplate it. Arthur cannot be gone; musn't be gone; will not be gone. Merlin's voice is fierce as it simply refutes the prospect.

"Sire, it won't come to-"

Arthur lays a hand on his shoulder.

"It would mean a lot to me."

And what can Merlin do then, but promise - and mean it:

"Anything, Arthur."

The hand leaves his shoulder, but Arthur's eyes stay fixed on him.

"Thank you, Merlin."

And Merlin takes another oath - this one to himself. They'll work it out. They'll make it work. They will.

.

They both feel guilty for endangering the other more than they are worried about themselves *heavy sigh*

.

I. AWAKING (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur awakes; lying on his back - unusual - and rolls over automatically.

He surprisingly falls, down, hard; and jerks fully awake now - on the floor, near a so very tiny bed, tangled in an unknown blanket (harsher than his standards, even while on errands, he can’t help but notice).

In disbelief, he eyes his surroundings…

Where is he? Has he been abducted?

Think, he admonishes himself - trying to clear his mind; to remember what must have happened, to guess who has dared to commit such an act, and, most important of all right now: Find a way out.

His eyes then suddenly meet Merlin’s, and relief surges through him somehow - Merlin is alive - before his anxiety returns; and double: because poor faithful, loyal Merlin has obviously been taken too; and it’s Arthur’s fault - he must have failed to save them both from being taken, even though he cannot remember anything…

Except when Arthur reaches out to Merlin for him to come closer (they need to share information and plan, but must be quiet as a mouse), he realizes with fright but indeniable certainty that Merlin is in fact a reflection in a mirror; and worse: *HIS* reflection!?

It his NOT his hand indeed that is stretching out in front of him; NOT his clothes on his person; and definitely NOT his own hair falling upon his eyes, as he notices the black strings in his vision range…

Arthur is dumbstruck. He sees Merlin’s mouth shaping a silent O, and he sees the dread in Merlin’s eyes… except they ARE - he feels - *his* mouth, and *his* eyes; and everything is just plainly wrong, and plainly impossible - but undeniably REAL.

He is… Merlin? Or better said, *inside* Merlin? How can such a thing have even come to be?

Sorcery, Arthur understands with horror: Camelot is under attack!

But now armed with the knowledge of his predicament, Arthur realizes he is actually in Merlin’s bedroom. He’s been in here before, once; and he recognizes it all now.

So. Not abducted. All things considered, that still counts as something, right…

And, as it surely doesn’t feel as if Merlin is still somewhere in his own head too while Arthur is inside of it, well… Maybe? Logically? Merlin might then be in return inside his own body?

Arthur suddenly finds himself praying for this to be true. It would be for the best, if Merlin was in his body - if they were the only ones concerned by this unnatural situation; because what if *everyone* was awaking inside someone else’s body this morning? That would be… precarious - the general panic leaving Camelot completely vulnerable to whoever must have plotted this? The worst though would be if the one responsible for this was right now in control of his body, and acting as Crown Prince to do, well, evil deeds… So yes, you bet Arthur truly wants to find Merlin to be the one inside his own body when he finally finds it.

Arthur jumps on his feet, ready for action. Luckily (even though Arthur feels a bit guilty, as he notices his armour in pristine state against the opposite wall - apparently Merlin has been polishing it late into the night then) Merlin hasn’t bothered to undress before falling asleep.

So. First thing first: he has to go to his chamber.

Picking some weapon on the way for good measure, you bet …

/

Simply walking the few paces to open the door though turns out to be a challenge. His limbs are too long, and dangly; it feels like he has two left feet, and he has to try thrice before actually getting a grip on the handle - because he isn’t used to this body, of course - but maybe it is truly NOT Merlin’s fault if he trips over his own feet that often after all…

Gaius is already out - hopefully looking for herbs and not wandering out of his mind… Arthur would have preferred to be able to test right away his theories about how many people were affected by the damn body change; but unfortunately, it would have to wait some more.

The corridors are empty too, except for a stray black cat who walks at his side long enough for Arthur to start questioning himself about asking to the cat if he *is* Merlin - because Merlin HAS to be somewhere, right, as he obviously isn’t where he should be to start with; but then the cat takes another turn… Arthur feels stupid for worrying so much about his silly manservant - but he cannot deny that he definitely will worry less only after having indeed finally found said silly manservant.

Arthur relaxes slighthly though when he enters the kitchen: people are working as usual, apparently not in shock, apparently in their right bodies. He picks up the first tray he finds, along with an extra knife that he hides in his pocket for good measure.

He tries to put on a confident grin as he walks (with the most assurance he can muster in this awkward-feeling body) towards the guards at his bedroom’s door - and can only hope it will look the same as usual to them. They let him pass without trouble, and Arthur isn’t sure whether it’s a good thing. On the one hand, he *doesn’t* doubt Merlin - he simply, intrinsically doesn’t; and would never want him to feel like he did if his guards were to search him whenever he was about to enter his chamber. On the other hand… well, it isn’t Merlin right now entering his chamber, with knifes at the ready… This time, it’s only him; but what if it happens again, and if the one then inside Merlin’s body has ill intentions…

Deciding not to dwell on this for the time being, Arthur enters his bedroom - hoping to find Merlin doing whatever Merlin always does, but preparing for a fight, if need be…

.

II. AWAKING (MERLIN POV)

Merlin awakes as if in a cocoon; literally. He is surrounded by softness, flush, warmth; he cannot remember ever feeling so comfortable - and the world can wait for just another few seconds before he opens his eyes, right… Merlin wriggles, shifting on his back, sighing softly as he nestles some more into the cushions…

When Merlin awakes for the second time - culpability sinking in as he realizes he has overslept - his eyes open to a Pendragon red canopy he would recognize even among hundreds. Merlin freezes: what the hell is he doing, sleeping IN ARTHUR’S BED?!

Merlin sits upright at once - blankets falling all around him to reveal that he wears ARTHUR’S NIGHTGOWN too ?!

Whaaaaaaaat?!

This… just DOESN’T make any sense. The last thing he can remind is sitting on his own bed, polishing the last bit of Arthur’s armour before letting himself fall down to sleep (*AN). He surely doesn’t recall walking to Arthur’s chamber, and even less…

Merlin’s mind is reeling as he shuffles out of bed as swiftly as he can. Oh my… What is Arthur going to think? And come to think of it - true panic now creeping down on Merlin at that thought: *WHERE* is Arthur to start with?

His attention is drawn out right then by Arthur calling out his name (Merlin feels relief, no matter his current embarrassing situation) - in one of those thousands yet unmistakably always Arthurian ways to say his name: a myriad of moods and meanings in those simple two syllables - the voice sounding odd though this morning (is Arthur sick?), and tensed (well, he just found his manservant in *his* bed, that might explain it!).

Merlin turns to face his sovereign, trying to feel less self conscious because he mustn’t look guilty, while wishing for inspiration, and buying time until it hits: “There is actually a perfectly valid explan-”

But it is NOT Arthur he sees: it is… himself? His breath catches as 'utter confusion’ gets a new meaning, you bet…

At the same moment, Merlin notices suddenly just how *not his* his voice has just sounded, and how he’s wearing a very particular ring around one finger of what’s NOT his hand, and how *blond* hair is falling upon his eyes… And still nothing makes sense; but at least it *does* explain how he awoke in Arthur’s bed in Arthur’s clothes: he *is* Arthur?; and… Arthur… is him? MUST be him. He has been calling his name right the right way, right?!

“Arthur?” Merlin barely dares to breathe out, both in wonder and in plea (because Arthur CANNOT be gone - the fear and pain and simple *impossibility* of such a concept slicing through Merlin’s mind like a knife).

There is a bright smile then appearing on his face - a smile that doesn’t entirely look like his own though - “Yes, Merlin. It’s me,” followed by a relieved sigh: “And it’s you”. And, despite the shock about them having apparently switched bodies (?!?!), Merlin can’t help but feel warm all over - because Arthur (and yes, it is so clearly Arthur, even in HIS body!) has apparently been worried about him.

.

(*AN) Headcanon time :

Merlin uses magic to clean Arthur’s armour in the beginning, indeed. And he still uses magic for most of the chores, as much as he can, of course (washing clothes, mending clothes, emptying chamber pots, sweeping fireplaces, preparing baths, refreshing beds, cleaning floors, cleaning everything, really (except for mucking the stables, because there are always others around, grrrr). But he quickly grows nearly *maniac* about Arthur’s food (picking at it as a way to make sure it’s not poisoned etc…) and about Arthur’s armour: it’s one of Arthur’s protections - so you bet Merlin definitely cleans and polishes and repairs and oils the leather ligaments that hold it together and EVERYTHING the hell out of it, with extra ardor and fervor, with his own two hands, all the while continuously trying to put on it any protecting spells he ever finds, and repeating those over and over at each occasion…  Also, mirrors were probably not so advanced at the time… But let’s say Merlin has an enhanced one, after all he has magic, right…

On a side note, I’m never going to be over Arthur’s priority-thinking (I’m in trouble = CAMELOT IS UNDER ATTACK (babyyyy let me hold you - being Camelot Prince/King is NOT your only worth) and Merlin’s priority-thinking (what the hell is happening = WHERE THE HELL IS ARTHUR (babyyyy let me hold you - your devotion to The (brave, kind, admirable (shut up Merlin)) Prat doesn’t have to mean that you always must come second (and a bit self-preservation cannot be harmful)) *SIGH* I just love those two idiots so much !!!

.

III. DISABLED (MERLIN POV)

But soon, Merlin is terrified.

And not because of the puzzling body swap.

*HE HAS NO MAGIC!?*

(Not that Merlin knows of any spell to reverse their current situation at once, mind you; so he doesn’t actually try anything about it. But Merlin simply knows: there is nothing but blood running through his veins now - no vigorous warmth, no energic flow; there is simply nothing singing under his placid flesh, as he focuses on it.)

He cannot help but wish he’s wrong though, and desperately tries to move a quill on Arthur’s desk behind Arthur’s back - the simplest of things, really; yet he fails, indeed…

His magic is tied to his body. Not to his mind.

No, no, no, no, nooooooooooo.

Merlin is, to his core, *terrified* - as he has never been. Not only because he feels more powerless and utterly helpless than he has ever felt - and worse, unable to protect Arthur! But also because the longer Arthur stays in his body, the more chances he has to find out that he has magic!? (And even though Merlin has nearly told Arthur, once? He is still not ready for him to know right now… Will after all didn’t lie to protect Merlin’s secret on his deathbed for Merlin to take chances with his life so soon after…)

Merlin though decides to push his panic aside for the moment: he simply MUST focus. No matter which sorcerer has this week decided to deal with the Pendragon line once and for all, Arthur’s life is undoubtedly in the balance; and that’s dearer to Merlin than all the magic in the world - included his own.

Because Merlin’s life *has* tilted, on that rocky beach by The Great Seas of Meredor.

Merlin’s earnest readiness to lay his life down to save Arthur’s had been instinctive, beyond doubt visceral; and the concrete force of the impulse had surprised him. Because it hadn’t been related to his first supposed then anyway indeed wished upon destiny. It had merely been a reflex, a spontaneous reaction: what he had wanted to do; more than what he ought to do. And Merlin had realized right then that he had, somehow, but undeniably, actually come to *LOVE* Arthur? He had known, for some time, that he liked him. And he had felt oddly pleased when Arthur had turned up at Ealdor - maybe Arthur liked him too? But if your first thought when someone is threatened is 'I’d rather die than see him die’? Well, there is a kind of selfishness, even in seflessness, that goes beyond 'liking’, right…

It shouldn’t have been such a shocking revelation though. Sure, Arthur could be a spoiled, royal prat; an irritating, pompous ass; an arrogant, moronic bully - to list but the top of the iceberg of his massive shortcomings, and without even mentioning the complete dollophead he could sometimes be. But Arthur could also be truly brave, honest, and kind; willing not only to trust but also to actually defend the words of mere servants, ready to defy his father’s orders in order to save a child’s life, and volunteering to help a village not even belonging to his Kingdom, to note only a few examples. Also: at some point, Merlin had realized how what could at first appear as near manhandling tactility was in fact just Arthur’s disguised way to show (or ask?) affection (because one probably just doesn’t walk around asking for cuddles while growing up between Uther’s judging cold glares and Morgana’s sharp witty tongue; and the physical occasional playfulness of the knights training must have seemed like the only way to go…). And last but not least: Merlin owed Arthur his life - if Arthur hadn’t gone looking for a Mortaeus flower… So, in short: of course Merlin had gotten fond of the man. For his own values; and not because he was meant to be the other side of his coin or something. And notwithstanding how so annoyingly beautiful he always was (for the record on that particular subject: Gwen is so adorably beautiful, and Morgana so petrifyingly beautiful).

But, as Arthur - bound to be King one day Arthur - hadn’t even hesitate before choosing to sacrifice himself, in order to fix what he had recognized to be his error, instead of using the (even offered) life of a simple servant? Well… There is a difference still between having the conviction that Arthur is a good man ready to fight for the greater good, even knowing it could be his death; and knowing as a FACT that Arthur *is* a good man ready to *die* for the greater good, even knowing it *will* be his death. And you bet having been proven *exactly* how pure of heart Arthur intrinsically is has only cemented that burgeoning love deeper into Merlin’s heart - simply; truly; and maybe irrevocably. Merlin would now willingly die a thousand deaths to save his Prince.

.

(Feel free to shout with me about 1.11 because *MAJOR FEELS*!)

(And then hug me as I shamelessly cry because this is still NOTHING next to what’s to come - aka Arthur becoming ACHINGLY beautiful, as Merlin turns ready to KILL a thousands times to save his King, blackening his own heart in the process and thinking himself then unworthy of Arthur’s love because Arthur is just so BRIGHT; but wishing for it nonetheless?)

.

IV. PLANNING (MERLIN POV)

Arthur, miraculously (even though understandably; because he must be shaken too, right), is unaware of Merlin’s internal crisis as he shares what he’s uncovered until now: “It seems to be just us. The kitcheners and the guards all seem to be themselves.”

“So. Whoever has done this is targetting you - personnally.”

“Nice to see your wits are still so very particularly sharp, Merlin. Is there any reason for the one behind all this to be targetting you?”

It is beyond odd to *hear* Arthur’s usual tone in his own voice; but Merlin still has the grace to sigh, before pushing his point further: “But why you?”

“Well, obviously *you*’ve forgotten, but I am Camelot’s Crown Prince, responsib-.”

“Which is exactly what’s bothering me!” Merlin can’t help but interject. “Why take on the Prince when you can take on the King?”

“Oh… Do you think… Could someone be… training on us, then? Before attacking-”

“I honestly have no idea. Maybe you got targetted indeed because you’re head of security. We shouldn’t rule anything out.”

Arthur brings his fist down on the table, determinedly: “Well, whatever the evil plan might be, we just cannot permit for it to work. We’ll have to find a way to stop this nonsense - no offense. In the meantime, we must act as if nothing unusual is going on. It might be for the time being our best chance at keeping Camelot safe - making whoever planned this think the spell didn’t work?”

Merlin can’t help but let out a helpless (yet realistic) sigh: “That’s… a lot; on both accounts.”

Arthur echoes with a helpless sigh of his own: “I know.”

/

But if they are to keep up pretenses, Merlin is going to need to be prepared: “So. What’s on your agenda for today - besides the monthly open pleas this morning and the daily training this afternoon?”

“Nothing particular. And there are no coming feasts nor abroad visits planned for the coming time, thankfully. (worried sigh) But there’s concil, tomorrow.”

“Well, let’s start at the beginning. I should do fine enough for the pleas. It’s mostly your father’s duty; your presence is required, of course, but mostly you’re to hear and listen…” Fear grips Merlin at once: “But it’s public; so it would be a great opportunity to try to murder you!” He MUST protect Arthur’s body: “Will you please go fetch your chainmail in my room?”

“No.”

The tone is definitive, and Merlin is torn between begging, or growing impatient - because Arthur can be so obtuse sometimes (now really isn’t the time for Arthur to be feeling indignation about being ordered around like a simple servant; even though he *is* one at the moment - not that Merlin would ever think he was one, of course - but what if Arthur thinks he does and enjoys the chance at some payback?): “Arthur, please (again?). It’s the expected type of errands of the body you momentarily (because it MUST be momentarily, right?) inhabit - I can’t - You’re the target. I need your chainmail. I have no fighting skills, nor any kind of skills really to protect yo-”

“I cannot be seen wandering the castle in my chainmail without reason, Merlin; it would attract attention”, Arthur interrupts in a somehow gentler tone; and Merlin realizes that Arthur hadn’t registered at first how Merlin’s concern was about him, more than himself - and is obviously humbled by the thought. “Court clothes are required, anyway. We’re not supposed to look threatening, nor threatened, when our subjects come to present their wishes,” Arthur pursues, killing any possible protest in the bud. “Besides, the guards will be present. So don’t worry too much about anything happening to us”, Arthur ends in a lower voice; as if the last part had been more a thought to reassure himself than a phrase meant to be uttered - and Merlin just has to savour that precious 'us’…

Merlin though isn’t reassured enough about his Prince’s safety: “Please (yes, that’s thrice; adamant much?) Sire, at least allow me to wear your thickest leather under your tunic” - willing his voice to make it sound like a not-to-be-denied demand more than a true question.

Arthur holds his gaze; and it actually feels like a blessing when he finally relents: “As you wish; but it won’t be comfortable against naked skin.”

“I’ll manage.” Merlin can’t help but fidget some before pursuing - asking Arthur to do what is and should be *his* work feeling not only weird but even wrong: “But I’ll need your help to tie it in the back?”

Arthur dimissively tousles his hair, grumbling: “I *know*, Merlin.” 'My clothes’ going unsaid.

Merlin can be relieved about one thing, at least: Arthur obviously isn’t piqued about doing a servant’s work…

/

Merlin picks out the largest fitting of Arthur’s clothes. He puts on the braies and trousers while still wearing the gown, respectfully tying the belt blindly around his waist. He puts on socks, and shoes. Then only does he take the gown off, and turns his back towards Arthur so that he may help with adjusting the leather’s straps.

A surprised but definitely pleased whisper (“Impressive, ain’t I?”) echoes in Merlin’s ears, as the Prat Prince seems apparently unable not to comment about his damn broad back, angling Merlin shortly that way and this way as if to assess it even better.

'Believe me, I know’, Merlin can’t refrain from thinking; feeling a blush coming over his face, and thankful that Arthur is too busy looking at his own back to notice any of it.

“I think I might even have outgrown Sir Leon - in width at least if not in height”, Arthur concludes proudly before finally starting to work the ties - leaving Merlin suddenly ashamed of his initial internal reprimand, and oddly upset. Of course Arthur would only wish to see in his physique the strength of a warrior. Of course his first thought, when finally able to actually see his own back, would be to compare it to his given models - the Knights; and most of all among them, to his own chosen model, Leon - both the noblest and strongest of them all, yet young enough to play the part of the older brother Arthur could look up to while growing up… No one has probably ever told him that he is beautiful, Merlin realizes sadly. But the fact that Arthur is so unaware only makes him even more beautiful in Merlin’s eyes…

Merlin forces himself to tease Arthur, hiding his turmoil under their usual banter: “Well, I could ask Gabriel to take measurements, if you so badly wish-”

“Shut up, Merlin”, accompanied by a rewarding hit in the back of his right shoulder, which Merlin gladly revels in, no matter the unusual fist size. This, no matter their predicament, feels normal.

And in that short moment of normalcy, when everything feels just right as Arthur ends tying the leather, Merlin notices something he hasn’t noticed before, when all he could feel was STRESS.

Oh no.

/

“Arthur?” Merlin can’t help but wince at the intimidated tone in his voice as he turns around; and Arthur is eyeing him now with furrowed eyebrows. “I think I need - I mean you need… to… have to go?”

Arthur makes a face - with his face; except it still looks somehow like a typical outraged Arthur face (damn, this is just too confusing…): “Merlin!”

“He! Do not look at me like this is my fault! It’s *YOUR* body! Maybe you shouldn’t have drun-”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have brought a full pitcher at dinner then!”

They eye each other, both unrelenting over who is at fault.

And Merlin can’t help but think that somehow he is, indeed, no matter what. Because there are levels in intimacy; and he IS definitely crossing a line. There is a difference between being around and trying to avoid his gaze when Arthur walks in and out of his bath, or applying Gaius’s healing balm to bruises on Arthur’s back because it’s a place Arthur can’t reach on his own, and, well… watching and touching Arthur’s *manhood*, even if only for urinating, technically ensuring no mess is done while doing it?

Arthur suddenly sighs though, and his voice sounds kinder as he offers: “This will surely happens a few times before we sort it all out, huh. To the both of us. So. How should we proceed?”

Merlin scratches his head, summoning some courage: “Do you want to… hold-”

“Your hand, Merlin!”, Arthur demonstrates, lifting the would-be-culprit in the air and wiggling its fingers for good measure; and that’s a 'No way’ if Merlin ever heard one…

“Would you rather it to be your hand-”

“It’s *your* hand right now!” Indeed. So. Another 'No way’.

But suddenly Merlin has a solution, of sort: “What if I… go sit into the stream? There’s a quiet spot not so far from the castle I found while collecting herbs for Gaius… If I hurry I still can make it back before the pleas.”

Arthur actually claps his hands, obviously relieved: “Sometimes, I swear, you are a genius.” He hurries over, handing Merlin his tunic and grabbing the Pendragon red doublet before marching out: “Let’s go!”

“You’re coming?” (hastening to put the tunic on and grabbing a towel before following)

“Well, as I just said, it’s bound to happen to me - you - so I might just as well tag along, and know where it is.”

/

Once out of potentially spying ears reach, they plan the day further.

“We HAVE to tell Gaius, at the least, about our situation: no one will contest his word if he says you’re not to train for a while - because honestly how am I supposed to spare with your Knights? They will notice right away that something isn’t right. And, well…”

Merlin hesitates, not wanting to incriminate Gaius in any way. As it turns out, he doesn’t have to:

“You’re right. Besides, Gaius has heard about a lot of… stuff, in all his years. I was planning to go around Jeffrey and look for the forbidden books, but I have no ideas how many volumes are hidden down here, nor where they even *are* to start with… If anyone we know might have even the slightest clue about how to fix our problem, it’s him; even if it’s only about finding an adequate book.”

Merlin nods, relieved: “So. After the pleas, I stage a fall, and we go to Gaius, who tells you’re not to train for the time being. That leaves the rest of the day free, both for looking up about our situation, and briefing me on what I should be aware of for tomorrow’s concil. Do you address things in an established order; who’s whose specialisms; what you discussed by the latest concils which might be brought up again tomorrow; and so on…”

“I’m supposed to make the battle plans, Merlin? But as far as plans go, I have to admit this isn’t a bad one. Except I’m not you; I do not trip on my feet twice a day. So. I’ll make you fall. That’s more plausible.”

“No way! You’ll end up in the stocks!” Merlin realizes how - no matter what he might have been thinking just a few months ago - he simply doesn’t want Arthur in the stocks. Ever. “Which is NOT where you should be spending your afternoon.” Merlin quickly amends; hiding his concern under logic’s sake, knowing it to be the best way to persuade Arthur anyway. “So. You fall. I try to help you. But we both fall. I’m clumsy, as ever; you’re noble, as always; everyone get to laugh at me, and praise you; and your father might skip punishing me for you getting hurt in the process, as you obviously didn’t want me hurt to start with?” (pause, before adding earnestly, yet fiercely, as Merlin isn’t able to tone back the surge of threat in his eyes at the mere idea of having anyone disrespecting Arthur in that way) “If he doesn’t though, I’ll stand guard next to you.”

“Would you?” Arthur seems surprised; but touched: “Well, who knows, maybe I’ll return the favor the next time.”

Merlin can’t refrain a whine: “The next time?”

“Even I can’t save you from my father’s wrath every time; it’s bound to happen, either from your two left foots or your snarky mouth.”

They can hear the water now, and Arthur accelerates towards it, as Merlin lags behind, unable not to smile:

“I guess I’m supposed to say 'thank you’?”

“I might have forgotten to mention I’ll probably throw something in your face myself at the last moment. Prince’s privilege and all that…” - Arthur even turns towards him, giving him one of his goofy faces to boot (Merlin didn’t know *his* face could do *that*, by the way).

Merlin just keeps on smiling anyway. He probably hasn’t felt that brightly, positively, ridiculously happy since “I’m rehiring you - because someone needs to muck out my stables”. Arthur has a particular way to express fondness, and Merlin wouldn’t change it for the world.

.

V. THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MERLIN (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur is the first to reach the stream, and crouches down to test the water with his hand.

“It’s cold”, he warns, while Merlin walks in a straight line towards a tree with a low hanging branch and starts undressing - he does come here often, clearly.

Merlin shrugs: “Be grateful it’s not winter yet. Try bathing around Imbolc - that’s cold.” Merlin goes on; stating an afterthought while hanging his pants on the branch: “Still worth it though; everything here is just more… alive, you know. You don’t get that indoors.”

And Arthur has bathed on patrols enough to know that, honestly?: he prefers his warm baths. He can’t help but feel a smile on his face though at the words; they are so intrinsically Merlin.

/

Arthur had been struck, when they had met. No one had ever defied him, in any way. And it had stung; Arthur could admit. So. He had not been displeased at all when he had overmastered the fool and turned him over. The affront had been too public to be allowed to slide, and Arthur had decided he wouldn’t dwell a further thought about the goodhearted fool (Arthur knew terrorrizing people wasn’t right. He tended though to react badly whenever anyone acted cowardly (which was, well, all the time, around him); especially as he was actually *praised* for it somehow), but fool nonetheless, who should have known to mind his own business…

It had been nothing though in comparison to his surprise when their paths had crossed again. Arthur hadn’t been able NOT to taunt him - hoping, somehow… But the last thing Arthur had been actually expecting had been for Merlin to act *exactly the same*. Surely, now that he knew who he was, he would just scrabble around him as anyone else - not defy him again, knowing it would get him in chains again, right? Arthur had been *delighted* by Merlin’s untamable fire - the words, and then the look he had thrown at him while taking his jacket off? (Maybe Arthur had just been waiting all his life for someone to finally stand his ground to him, indeed…) Of course Arthur had let him go without punishment that second time - and any time since then (which was honestly difficult, as Merlin - always fighting for what was right more than for himself Merlin - frequently got riled up, be it in private OR IN PUBLIC, by literally anyone and anything).

Since he has been to Ealdor though, Arthur can’t help but see things under a new light.

Hunith is everything Arthur believes a loving mother to be. But there had been no father at home, nor any mention of one. (Arthur knows the sting of this kind of wound - missing a parent; and he had been saddened, as he had realized that Merlin bore such a wound too.) Arthur hadn’t dared to ask, but he had wondered: did Merlin ever got a father to start with; or had he been abandoned - intentionally or not? (Arthur knows how even an accident still feels akin to a betrayal in a child’s heart.) Which would be the worst anyway? But what if Merlin had been bullied through his childhood because of it? - children could be particularly malicious, when they intended to… Was it how Merlin had learned, the hard way, that fighting - both with his words and his fists - was the only way to end the pestering? And had decided it wouldn’t be only for his own sake, but for the sake of anyone who might ever need help? Was it what had brought Merlin close to Will - the fact that they both had lost their father? Was it the reason Will had wanted to learn magic to start with? (Arthur knows the near constant anger, too. As does Merlin, obviously.)

Arthur can’t help but feel grateful anew, somehow, and no matter what, still, that Merlin has had Will around: surely, no matter how bad the fights Merlin had jumped into, Will must have kept him safe - at least safe enough - *with his magic*. The thought had been unbidden the first time it had occured, and had definitely surprised Arthur; but he hadn’t been able to deny that it was what he truly felt indeed.

/

Because of course Arthur had come to care for Merlin. Isn’t it why he had gone to Ealdor to start with after all…

Merlin.

Definitely not an ordinary manservant. And probably not the champion manservant by any book (fast learner, and smart, and hard working, he was; but only about what *he* deemed important - hence for example his total disregard for any kind of storage? - but Arthur generally agreed with what Merlin deemed important or not anyway). But honestly the only manservant Arthur now could imagine ever having - or ever want to have.

Because Arthur likes Merlin as his manservant exactly just the way he is, and would now never wish for another - no matter (and specifically because of) how well-schooled and zealous to satisfy his every need (and whim) that hypothetic other might be… Arthur now sees what others might judge flaws as assets (Merlin’s clumsiness and chattiness are more endearing and uplifting than unefficient, especially as his opinions always sound reasonable; his sarcasm and insults are a sure way to keep Arthur’s head from ever getting inflated; and his challenging manners push Arthur to do and be better - from training with the knights to saving people’s lifes), and what others might judge insubordinate as being treated, for once, finally, as an equal, somehow (even though they both know and acknowledge they aren’t) - no matter whenever it comes out at Arthur’s expanse too, food getting shoved into his mouth and getting unceremoniously pulled out of bed included in their everyday banter, as Merlin can give just as much as he gets indeed. But that’s maybe what Arthur values the most: how Merlin’s respect feels earned and honest; neither forced by birthright or fear for repercussions, nor cajoling nor calculated.

Arthur has never had a private servant for longer than a year - his Father’s rule; but you bet Arthur is decided about keeping Merlin at his side when the year would end. He will have to strategize; he will need irrefutable arguments. But if he plays his cards well - and Merlin never ceases to hand him over cards to play - Arthur has no doubt that his Father will actually allow it: it’s in the best interest of the Kingdom after all.

Merlin.

A whirlwind. Always animated, always busy; never still, even when he’s doing nothing. But always so expressive - so easy to read - a fact Arthur has come not only to appreciate after decades around perpetually guarded scheming faces, but even to *trust*.

A chatty nature-loving poet with dangly limbs, gentle heart, and the brightest smile Arthur has ever seen - Arthur has come to know. Yet the sassiest mouth and the most unrelenting fighter Arthur has ever met; his utter lack of skills balanced by sheer defiance - Arthur has learned right from the start. (Merlin just never backs off, no matter the odds; which is very stupid, but also very brave.)

A confusing, clashing mess of contraries. But an admirable man, with a beautiful soul.

And you bet Arthur wouldn’t have him be any different.

Arthur shakes his head. Maybe - just like with his two left feet - it isn’t Merlin’s choice to be such a poet all the time. Arthur hasn’t been inside Merlin’s body for more than a few hours, and already he is turning into a maudlin bard himself, huh…

/

Arthur sighs; bringing himself back to the present - only to be struck by Merlin yet again.

Merlin has by now disrobed of everything except for the leather, which he has rolled up to his chest (logic; it would take too much time to tie it up all once more), and the tunic, which he now holds tightly in a bundle against his chest too, even if (and no doubt exactly because) it must get in his vision range as he enters the water. The lengths Merlin now goes again, simply to avoid to *see* - treating his body with the utmost respect, even when it is betraying him?

It should be insignificant, but the whole endeavour screams once more just how *devoted* Merlin always is, to him; and it is honestly dumbfounding.

He has been willing to die for me. And more than once.

The thought slices through Arthur’s mind; as usual charged with guilt, and heartbreaking, yet oddly sweet.

Arthur doesn’t understand: he has truly done very little to earn such high esteem - and that’s an euphemism. Getting the man in the stocks? Letting him drink poison destined for him? Having his only friend die?

But you bet Arthur cherishes it all the same. And he wants - oh, he WANTS - to be worthy of it. Not because it’s what he ought to do, repaying kindness with kindness, loyalty with loyalty; and definitely not because he owes Merlin a friend - you can’t replace a friend (even if Arthur never actually had a friend, he knows that it’s supposed to be a special, powerful, unique bond). Not even because Merlin does indeed makes him want to be a better man - even if that’s true, and definitely positive for the future of Camelot. But simply because HE. WANTS. TO. Arthur has realized by now how he is always tempted, whenever they are together: either to act silly in order to cause a smile; or to provoke Merlin until he bites. Both reactions feel peculiarly satisfying; spreading a pleasant warmth through his whole being - and Arthur just always has to smile…

So.

On impulse, Arthur disrobes Merlin’s lower half and enters the (indeed very cold) water while holding his tunic bundled up too, keeping his eyes stubbornly fixed on his own body sinking until the water reaches up to above its waist, as Merlin sits on his knees in the middle of the stream. And yes, the fact that Arthur has just chosen to abide by Merlin’s stubborn dedication on that matter, instead of letting his perpetual interest about literally everything run free, for once, (because yes, if he hadn’t witnessed Merlin’s commitment, Arthur might have taken a look at Merlin’s body, out of sheer curiosity; he wouldn’t though, not from now on…), is both a pledge and a self-serving whim.

Merlin, drawn by the sounds, turns to him with questioning eyebrows, and Arthur sheepishly drops on his knees next to him: “I thought it unfair to let you have all the fun on your own. Now, ready to scare the fish?”

Merlin howls with laughter. Arthur decides it’s definitely worth playing silly while freezing his ass off.

.

(Imbolc = 31 january)

Feel free to come and fangirl with me over 1.01 and then scream with me over 1.10 !

On a side note, I’m sorry but not sorry about that fish line? It was *totally* unplanned but then it just rolled out and I went 'yep, sure, arthur would, totally; it stays!’ ?

.

VI. THE PRINCE’S PART (ALTERNATE ARTHUR/MERLIN POV)

They get out; get dried; put their clothes back on. Merlin ties the towel to the branch, for future use.

Then, on their way back to the castle, Arthur asks Merlin about his agenda for the day.

Merlin gives him a look - like he’s unsure whether Arthur means it. Arthur gives him a look back - meaning he isn’t joking indeed.

Merlin smiles, eyes full of mirth: “Your chambers are a complete mess, your clothes need washing, your boots need cleaning, your dogs need exercising, your fireplace needs sweeping, your bed needs changing and, oh, *someone* needs to muck out your stables.” Merlin sobers up. “But we have more pressing matters at hand; so I think you can consider yourself free for the day.”

Arthur is taken aback. He recognizes his own words, of course. It’s both baffling and humbling - that Merlin can quote him, months later? and that Merlin has omitted one part and one part only in his old speech, because they both know his armour doesn’t need any repairing (the devotion Merlin shows those metal pieces echoing the devotion he shows to Arthur himself)? Arthur had first planned to give a playful thankful bow; but it would feel wrong.

“So. I’ll go bother Geoffrey. Try to get him to show me where the secret books are hidden. I’ll tell him Gaius has found a strange herb and wants to make sure it isn’t dangerous or something…”

/

Merlin has to give Arthur that: he is indeed insightful.

The mention of Gaius’s name though has Merlin slightly panicking again: Gaius doesn’t know yet about their current situation. What if he mentions 'something’ upon walking on Arthur thinking he is him? No. Merlin has to be there when they’ll get to see Gaius.

“Speaking about Gaius? Stay clear from his chambers. I doubt he’ll be as magnanimous as I am. He’ll do that thing with his eyebrow and have you pick herbs and brewing healing potions and concocting ointments before you even got a chance to tell him about our predicament - he’s really dedicated in my education as a physician, you know…”

“And I believe you rather enjoy it.”

“I do, indeed. I mean… It’s fascinating - do you know that the same stuff can cure you or kill you sometimes, depending on the dosis? Anyway, who wouldn’t want to know how to save lives?” Merlin can’t help but twitch. “I’m not sure I’m any good at it though…”

/

There is a flash of guilt in Merlin’s disheartened eyes, and Arthur realizes two things:

1) Merlin feels responsible for having been unable to save his friend Will. Which is understandable, because Merlin must have gathered by now some knowledge from Gaius’s lessons; but heartbreaking - because Arthur has seen enough arrow’s wounds to know that Will’s could never have healed - and perplexing - because Will has died to save *him*, not Merlin; so why would Merlin think the guilt was his to start with? and how come Arthur has never felt like Merlin might blame him for it either?

2) Merlin’s face is always *transparent* - a fact Arthur truly appreciates on Merlin’s face - but a fact that could turn out problematic, now that it’s on his own face…

“Let’s get back to my chambers. There is still something you should master better before the pleas.”

/

And that’s how Merlin finds himself positioned by Arthur in front of a mirror.

“What do you see, Merlin?” Arthur asks.

“Well, you?” Merlin feels he’s missing Arthur’s point, but he has no clue…

“Do you? Because I see my body, I see my clothes; but I do not see the Prince of Camelot - I’d like to think I play it better than that - and I must be, because my Father would not allow *this* I assure you - at least I hope or the kingdom is doomed.” Arthur ends on a sigh, shakes his head, and then turns commanding eyes back towards Merlin via the mirror. “Close your eyes, Merlin. Think of me. I mean, *picture* me; and more especially, picture me at any official activity you’ve served me through. See how I walk, how I stand, how I sit, how I move, how I look?”

Merlin does as asked, searching through his memories. After a while, he nods.

“Got it?”

“I think?”

“Then open your eyes, Merlin. What do you see?”

Merlin understands now. He can’t help but sigh helplessly. “Not the Prince of Camelot. Obviously. I’m sorry Arthur, I guess I’m just not… majestic enough to play you.”

“It’s not that hard, Merlin. Come on; I’ll explain. Ready?” Arthur grins at him via the mirror, exuding confidence - trust in him?; and Merlin would face (has faced) monsters to earn it indeed.

Merlin nods, their eyes still linked via the mirror.

“First thing first? You’re slouching.”

“Yes. (Merlin tries not to slouch; but is still not satisfied with the result) I think though the biggest problem is- There’s something wrong with your face.”

“Because you wear your heart on it, Merlin; and you mustn’t. Believe me, you do not want to be lectured for hours about this by my Father…”

Arthur moves away, and Merlin can’t see him anymore in the mirror. His voice is directing though, and Merlin focuses on the words to school his face.

“You’re a prince, so you *must* always look like one. No matter what you do, you must always, *always*, look confident. That’s the first strength of a kingdom - the strenghth of its ruler. That’s what keeps your people safe. So. Chin up, Merlin. Square your shoulders. Stand tall - stand *proud*.”

Merlin realizes the words are not Arthur’s; they’re Uther’s. He wonders how often indeed Arthur has heared those words - most probably often enough to give himself a internal pep talk before any official anything apparently…

“That’s better; but still not good enough. No matter how you feel inside must not show, Merlin. When you’re tired, hide it. When you’re sick, hide it. When you hurt, hide it. When you’re stressed, hide it. When you worry, hide it. When you doubt, hide it. When you’re bored, and even more when you disagree; hide it - it’s disrespectful; and we do not want wounded pride to fester, don’t we Merlin? When you’re afraid, definitely hide it. When you’re sad, hide it. And the trickiest part maybe: when you’re happy, hide it too - or risk whatever is making you happy to be taken away: weakening you is weakening the kingdom; and its enemies will never hesitate to bring you down, if you let them see even an inch of an opportunity.”

Merlin is shaken. He feels guilty, somehow. This is, certainly, too intimate. Merlin feels like he’s intruding. This feels even more trespassing than being in Arthur’s body. It’s like being forced in Arthur’s head, without his consent. It’s nauseating.

“Again, Merlin. Your eyes; focus. It’s a part; but it’s part of your job. So for the love of Camelot, Merlin, please try harder. Your people reckon on you to lead them and protect them; so it’s your duty to be a leader, and to be strong. Work hard; harder than anyone else. You *must* be an example, an inspiration. You must be admirable in everything, so that your people will follow you everywhere. But you must lead, Merlin; never follow. A ruler is alone - *must* be alone. Do not trust anyone; at least do not trust anyone more than anyone else, and surely not more than you trust yourself. Your own judgement must *never* be clouded.”

Merlin can’t help but turn towards Arthur at the words, both in disbelief and in ache… Because Merlin has grown up hiding, but he had never realized that Arthur had, too; and maybe even more than him. Arthur must not only always pretend and perpetually watch over his shoulder; he must pretend and watch over his shoulder *alone*. And Merlin can only imagine how hard that must have been, and be. Back at Ealdor, Merlin had (and still has) his loving mother, and he had Will. Even here, now, Merlin has Gaius. And somehow, yes: he has Arthur too, Merlin suddenly realizes; and then feels ashamed, because he can’t help but feel blessed - Arthur trusts him. Because Arthur is definitely less guarded around him, isn’t he? When it’s just the two of them; Arthur and Merlin? Arthur laughs, Arthur doubts, Arthur *shows*; maybe not everything - but that’s probably not possible as he is so trained - but something at least always shines through; even if it’s by putting his feet on his face… But Merlin knows now, how rare and precious it truly is. They can never be friends, maybe; but Arthur trusts him. That’s undeniable; and that’s everything, somehow.

“Do not look at me; look at the mirror, Merlin. Harden your eyes. Smile; always politely, even when you don’t want to smile at all; more genuinely, when it’s true - but never let it go up to your eyes. First thing about tomorrow too; as we’re at it. Hear everyone out. Listen with your full attention to everyone; whether you agree or not. Never decides right away; except if it’s necessary, in war time. Your decisions must be thought upon; never a spur of the moment. If something is unclear, do not let it show during concil. If you favor a position, do not let it show during concil. If you disagree, do not let it show during concil. You need further advice, or even only further information? Seek the appropriate person in private; ask man to man. They will see the honor in it if it’s positive, and be thankful you kept it private if it’s negative. Also. You must be ready to be impartial, Merlin; because you do not need to be kind, but you must always be fair. You may - and you will, unfortunately - make mistakes; but never ackowledge them. Fix them. If you can’t; repair as much damage as possible. Learn from your errors, in order to never make the same mistake again. But never apologize. Come on Merlin; I’m sure you can do it. You’re nearly there.”

More over, Merlin realizes the Arthur he gets to see nowadays - the true Arthur - has always been there already, even under the pretense of the moron. Kilgarrah is wrong. His destiny isn’t to change Arthur; because there is nothing to change. Arthur already has everything to be a great king, the greatest king, all on his own.

And so, Merlin is *angry*. He has now yet another reason to despise Uther, it seems - scarring his child on the inside in such a way. Of course Arthur always feels inadequate; of course Arthur feels lacking; of course the only bond Arthur values is the one with his fellow knights - ride to glory or death, together? It’s the only bond Uther has authorized him to authorize himself to ever have… But Merlin’s anger is a good thing, apparently - because whenever Merlin thinks about Uther, Arthur finds that he’s playing the Prince’s part better.

“There Merlin, you have it. See? Right there. Lock it; just like that. That’s good enough for anyone looking today; because believe me, someone *will* be looking, even if only my Father and not the one who switched us or anyone else with ill intentions - there is *always* *someone* looking, Merlin.”

Fine. Think about Uther; until the pleas are done. Merlin can do it; and he’ll gladly do it. He’ll probably gladly do anything; for Arthur. He can still have a cry or hit a wall afterwards, right…

.

Arthur needs a hug. I volunteer. Anyone with me? (besides Merlin, obviously…)

.

VII. DOOMED (ARTHUR POV)

With a last commanding yet encouraging nod, Arthur leaves Merlin by the Great Hall’s entrance and starts to make his way towards the Library.

He is stopped by Merlin’s name being called out twice - because he has failed to react right away; Arthur chastises himself. It is the headmaster recruiting hands: his Father wants his bath ready when the pleas end.

Arthur doesn’t want to bring Merlin in trouble, of course; so he takes on the ordered job - after all, how complicated can it be?

He is paired with a newcomer answering the name of George who looks up to him as if he holds the sun: the Prince’s manservant! Which isn’t that bad. Until he starts, seemingly embarrassed but curious all the same, to ask questions like “Is the Prince as terrible as they say?” or “Is it true he throws knives?” and such? Arthur tries to explain that the training field is, well, to train? He isn’t sure the message gets across though, as George only holds his eyes with a perplexed gaze…

Arthur can’t help but hope that Merlin at least understands that he’s not only training himself but also trying to get Merlin to know how to defend himself if not to attack whenever he comes at him with a mace or anything… He should maybe make his intentions clearer, apparently…

Anyway. After yet another round of carrying buckets full of cold or warmed-up water up and down and left and right, Arthur realises there is more to it than it looks; and the bath is only half full still…

And when they’re nearly done? His three coworkers and the headmasteer seem satisfied, but Arthur can’t help but think while bringing up the last two buckets that they achieved nothing more than a luke warm bath with a clean but no particular scent. Merlin’s baths are definitely of a superior category on both accounts, and Arthur doesn’t know if he should feel guilty and spoiled for regularly enjoying better baths than the king himself, or more amazed or worried about Merlin’s bath-preparing skills (is he even thinking about his safety? he wouldn’t actually carry boiling water up the stairs, would he?)

Arthur decides he should address the issue. And maybe take baths downstairs from now on just in case - a little backroom near the kitchen would be more practical than his chambers, wouldn’t it? When the space isn’t needed for banquets preparations and such of course…

Arthur misses the first step towards the second floor (it’s actually the eleventh time today that he misses a step - he still isn’t used to Merlin’s feet). This time though, his balance is too lost for him to compensate and he falls backwards, landing on his butt and ready to get soaked and hit by the water and buckets he has released when instinctively freeing his hands (one to help catch his fall; one to protect himself from the falling projectiles). Except nothing comes: no water, no hit - and no falling sound either. And when Arthur takes a look? The buckets and water are… floating above his head?

Arthur gasps in surprise, his mind going both blank and reeling…

Then only does Arthur finally get drenched and hit on the shoulder.

Arthur blinks. Twice.

What has just happened isn’t normal, at all. Only - only magic could make such a thing possible!

Arthur looks around, instinctively - scanning for a threat.

He is alone; the corridors are empty as far as he can see, and he hears no voices, nor steps.

Which is good, because no one is attacking him then.

Which is the worst though - because if there is no one around… then the only person responsible for what he has just witnessed must be - is - HIMSELF?!

Arthur gasps again; this time in panick.

His first instinct is denial. But he knows what he saw. And somehow, it just makes sense, doesn’t it?

It’s not the body of the Prince that whoever switched him and Merlin is after. It’s his mind…

Put him in the body of a servant, give him magic, and sooner or later (and most probably sooner) he is bound to die by his Father’s law. What is he supposed to say in his defense? That he IS the Prince, in another body which had been given an ounce of magic on the sole purpose of getting him executed? Who would ever believe him…

In the meantime, the schieming sorcerer must have judged that a servant in his body may be too delighted by the upgrade in status to be a threat to his plans and would gladly unknowingly collaborate, on top of being totally untrained and incompetent at any of his duties.

Then? One only has to kill the King, either by making him ‘ill’ or using the same trick again and - for sure - Camelot is doomed to get wiped out from the map by the first band of Saxons passing by (and most probably enticed to pass by very soon after its King's death): its only true heir gone, and the supposed one obviously improper to defend it. All of it without casualties on the attacking side, and without anyone knowing how it all came to be, which means no one, even loyal to Camelot, would have a reason to stand against the new regime put in place.

Arthur is more afraid than he has ever been - and he has been in combat enough for that fact to mean something. He feels crushed; defeated, even before the battle - and honestly? He has never despised himself that much. No matter that he has never felt both so unprepared and so intrinsically useless - and not even able to trust himself: surrender is simply inexcusable. Camelot depends on it.

Besides, Arthur owes it to Merlin to fight, right. It’s after all Merlin’s body that’s to die along his spirit. Oh! The villainy, the cowardice in this attack! Use an innocent victim as a vessel to be sacrificed. Sorcerers definitely have no sense of honor indeed.

So. Arthur is angry now. A much more suited mindset, he decides - as long as he doesn’t allow it to blind him. And he won’t. Merlin’s body depends on it too.

Arthur takes a deep breath. He has been taught strategy even before he could talk, right? Time to make a plan of action.

First. He is not as alone as Camelot’s enemy has calculated him to be. He is, in fact, not alone at all. He has Merlin.

Loyal Merlin; not only willing but even devoted to getting back into his own servant body rather than happily playing the prince. Magic familiar and open-minded Merlin - which means Arthur has not only someone who won’t judge him nor fear him to confide in about his new endangering (and in so many ways) abilities, but also someone who might have some basic understanding of it; since he was Will’s friend? Heart-in-the-right-place Merlin: too kind, maybe (but he can at least get aware of it enough in order not to be lead only by it); but naturally just and fair Merlin. Brave, fierce, tenacious Merlin; too reckless though (but again: he can at least get aware of it enough in order not to be lead only by it). Ressourceful Merlin, fast-learning Merlin: he would master his body’s strength, eventually; and Leon would be here to lead the Knights in the meantime… Arthur takes an oath. Even if they fail to find a solution to their problem, Camelot won’t be left unprotected. Come what may; even the worst? Merlin *will* be ready to take his place. Having Merlin’s unique edges smoothed out feels wrong; but it just has to be for show, right?

Second. Well, there is no really second yet; at least not more than what they have already planned. They need to find some books - and pray that they will be useful. And Arthur will just have to be particularly attentive about not repeating the kind of blunder he just did with witnesses present.

Yes. Merlin. Books. Start at the beginning; and with luck, it might just work out in the end.

Arthur cleans up as best as he can, using and wringing his soaked tunic in the buckets, then runs to Merlin’s room for a set of dried clothes. Turning up to retake his place at 'Arthur’’s side while drenched would only draw unwanted attention…

.

So. Basically? Yep. This is a magic-reveal unreveal fic. But. I mean… It’s Arthur? Also: this fic (to me) is canon (fitting) - so it just can’t be a reveal fic. Bonus: it explains too why Arthur doesn’t get the courage-magic-strength trio hint later on. He thinks Merlin is magic; but only because there is some residual trace to sense from when his body had magic (aka this fic), not that he actually has magic still at the time… Arthur can be at the same time very aware yet very unaware, and he can be so very biased and decided to see things his way, no matter how circumvoluted, right? (Also, of course Arthur thinks in fact then that HE is magic in the trio: he was after all the one inside Merlin when his body had magic; and Merlin IS courage - Arthur has such a low self-esteem to start with…)

On a side note: Arthur would actually trust Merlin with Camelot (even despite his limits). If that doesn’t tell you all there is to tell then I don’t know how to express it. *SIGH* *GROSS SOBBING* (Gwen though is  innately  made to be Queen - but Arthur doesn’t know that yet. He isn’t wrong about Merlin though - for Arthur’s memory? Merlin would do his best to be a great King too, you bet…) *GROSS SOBBING AGAIN*

.

VIII. MERLIN'S CHAINMAIL (ARTHUR POV)

"Merlin! My boy! You're soaked! Did you provoke Arthur again and end up under the well for it this time?"

Great. Gaius sounds half amused half concerned. Does actually *everyone* think him to be a brute?

Well; nevermind. Merlin knows better; for sure - and that's what matters. Merlin is never backing away, Merlin is never really complaining nor saying no; Merlin just watches him with mirth in his challenging eyes: I dare you. Of course Arthur HAS TO then... It's like... kind of a private wordless conversation only the two of them understand. But honestly? Arthur wouldn't trespass Merlin's limits - if anything, Arthur would probably even feel guilty, if Merlin ever made one known...

But then, Gaius is patting his shoulder, pushing him towards 'his' room; and Arthur is stunned silent, as he can't help but relish on the (for him unusual) affectionate paternalistic small gesture.

"Get changed. Get warmed up. You'll tell me later. I haven't heard the bell signaling the end of the pleas, it is already so late? I've just finished Sir Kay's potion, and it should be drinken warm, as you know; so I'd better be on my way. We'll prepare Uther's draught and the balm for Little Kathleen's knee when I'm back. Also, I'm afraid I've ruined my coat; if you could work your magic on it next time you're mending Arthur's clothes, I'd be very much obliged?"

And then Gaius is gone, and Arthur is still stunned, but now for another reason - it was but a polite turn of phrase, of course, and Arthur knows Merlin just isn't capable of miracles, as proven by the state of some of his shirts - beyond mending; but Gaius would better not use some idioms that carelessly around the palace - who knows who might hear and takes things the wrong way... Arthur shakes his head as he hurries to change, feeling sorry for letting Gaius down, but not planning to stay around until Gaius comes back - he wouldn't know anyway how to prepare his Father's nor Kathleen's medicine, right...

Arthur opens Merlin's cupboard.

There are only two folded set of clothes (neckerchief included indeed), and Arthur just takes the one on top.

He's about to close the door when his eyes fall on Merlin's chainmail.

/

The first time Arthur had told Merlin that he had been assigned to lead some patrol, Merlin had right away asked:

"When do we leave?"

Arthur had been surprised, then had tilted his head, apprehending Merlin while explaining that coming along was to be Merlin's choice; and not per se his duty as palace manservant. They usually asked for volunteers; there was extra coin to be earned and such.

Merlin had only repeated:

"Sire; when do we leave?"

Arthur had been surprised again, but definitely pleased:

"Tomorrow at first light."

"I'd better start packing right away then. What do you need?"

After having listed their necessities, Arthur had mentioned that he would have a chainmail sent to Gaius's for Merlin to wear. Merlin had countered that he had no wish for carrying extra weight around as it would only slow him down in his chores; and that he would rather wear his everyday clothes. Arthur had said it was folly to go unprotected - they would patrol the borders, and thiefs and saxons could fall on them - and Merlin had finally relented some and agreed to wear a chainmail he would self adapt as he wished above some clothing but under his tunic. Arthur had been suspicious when Merlin had turned up the next morning without even a cap showing out, and had actually moved his neckerchief aside to make sure Merlin was wearing metal under his tunic...

/

Without hesitation, Arthur takes the chainmail out too, deciding he should wear it under his clothes. After all, the longer Arthur might succeed in hiding his new abilities, the more chances there are that the one responsible for their troubles might choose to turn to more expeditive measures of his own. Killing a servant might go unnoticed for awhile, and would work just as well in case whoever had planned this got tired of waiting for Arthur to betray himself and get executed. Which means that Merlin's body is just walking around as a mark waiting to get hit... and Arthur should do his best to protect it. Merlin's chainmail is barely worth its name; but it does cover his chest, belly and back, at least.

Arthur makes it back to the Great Hall right on time for the end of the pleas. It was the moment they had planned to stage for Arthur's injury; but Arthur discretly but authoritatively signals 'no' with his head. It would be too risky; what if while falling he instinctively uses magic again - in front of the whole court? Merlin gives him a curious look but follows his cue anyway, thanksfully. There is still enough time to create an excuse before training; and they can still tell he fell even without witnesses anyway. It would have been a nice added touch at make-believe, but Gaius vouching for them should be enough on its own, right?

As they walk in silence back to Gaius's quarters, Arthur feels Merlin's eyes upon him, boring and questioning. So when they pass by his chambers, Arthur takes the opportunity for privacy. Once behind closed doors, Arthur leads them to the most private corner, as far from the door as possible. Then he takes a deep breath, and turns towards Merlin to explain... everything.

He hasn't got the time to start though before Merlin hushes out, worry evident in his voice, pointing to Arthur's side where a hint of metal is visible if you pay attention - and Merlin always pays attention, doesn't he:

"Sire? Why are you wearing my chainmail?"

.

AN: It's canon after all that Arthur doesn't force Merlin to come along - he lets him leave before Camlann, right? But yes, this is just me giving some sense to the 'just let's Merlin accompany us everywhere without any kind of protection' unacceptable general policy. So. Merlin *has* some protection. We just don't see it. Okay? And the few times he's actually in armor on patrol, it's because they need a decoy or something... Also, just so you know: Merlin of course thought that Arthur would probably think that he didn't want to be seen in a chainmail because he didn't want to look like a soldier in order not to seem a danger nor a target, but Merlin just couldn't care: he HAD to be an unconspicuous nobody - it made it easier to protect Arthur with his magic if no one really paid attention to him. And to end with a cute note: whenever they ride out ? Arthur always checks that Merlin wears his chainmail - a fact Merlin can't help but always secretly revel in...

[izumi-kanai]

Personality type

Quiz: Here Tagged by: @yukieutsumi Tagging: @11shimizuhirono @tatsumichi-oki

Your Results

Role: Diplomat Strategy: Social engagement Personality type: “The campaigner” (ENFP-T) Individual traits: Extraverted - 76 %. Intuitive - 59 %. Feeling - 83 %. Prospecting - 57 %. Turbulent - 85 %. 

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for – and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool – for love – for your dreams – for the adventure of being alive.

The Campaigner personality is a true free spirit. They are often the life of the party, but unlike types in the Explorer Role group, Campaigners are less interested in the sheer excitement and pleasure of the moment than they are in enjoying the social and emotional connections they make with others. Charming, independent, energetic and compassionate, the 7% of the population that they comprise can certainly be felt in any crowd. You Can Change the World With Just an Idea

More than just sociable people-pleasers though, Campaigners, like all their Diplomat cousins, are shaped by their Intuitive (N) quality, allowing them to read between the lines with curiosity and energy. They tend to see life as a big, complex puzzle where everything is connected – but unlike Analyst personality types, who tend to see that puzzle as a series of systemic machinations, Campaigners see it through a prism of emotion, compassion and mysticism, and are always looking for a deeper meaning.Campaigners are fiercely independent, and much more than stability and security, they crave creativity and freedom.Many other types are likely to find these qualities irresistible, and if they’ve found a cause that sparks their imagination, Campaigners will bring an energy that oftentimes thrusts them into the spotlight, held up by their peers as a leader and a guru – but this isn’t always where independence-loving Campaigners want to be. Worse still if they find themselves beset by the administrative tasks and routine maintenance that can accompany a leadership position. Campaigners’ self-esteem is dependent on their ability to come up with original solutions, and they need to know that they have the freedom to be innovative – they can quickly lose patience or become dejected if they get trapped in a boring role.

Don’t Lose That ’Little Spark of Madness’

Luckily, Campaigners know how to relax, and they are perfectly capable of switching from a passionate, driven idealist in the workplace to that imaginative and enthusiastic free spirit on the dance floor, often with a suddenness that can surprise even their closest friends. Being in the mix also gives them a chance to connect emotionally with others, giving them cherished insight into what motivates their friends and colleagues. They believe that everyone should take the time to recognize and express their feelings, and their empathy and sociability make that a natural conversation topic.

The Campaigner personality type needs to be careful, however – if they rely too much on their intuition, assume or anticipate too much about a friend’s motivations, they can misread the signals and frustrate plans that a more straightforward approach would have made simple. This kind of social stress is the bugbear that keeps harmony-focused Diplomats awake at night. Campaigners are very emotional and sensitive, and when they step on someone’s toes, they both feel it.

Campaigners will spend a lot of time exploring social relationships, feelings and ideas before they find something that really rings true. But when they finally do find their place in the world, their imagination, empathy and courage are likely to produce incredible results.

Campaigner Strengths

Curious – When it comes to new ideas, Campaigners aren’t interested in brooding – they want to go out and experience things, and don’t hesitate to step out of their comfort zones to do so. Campaigners are imaginative and open-minded, seeing all things as part of a big, mysterious puzzle called life.

Observant – Campaigners believe that there are no irrelevant actions, that every shift in sentiment, every move and every idea is part of something bigger. To satisfy their curiosity, Campaigners try to notice all of these things, and to never miss a moment.

Energetic and Enthusiastic – As they observe, forming new connections and ideas, Campaigners won’t hold their tongues – they’re excited about their findings, and share them with anyone who’ll listen. This infectious enthusiasm has the dual benefit of giving Campaigners a chance to make more social connections, and of giving them a new source of information and experience, as they fit their new friends’ opinions into their existing ideas.

Excellent Communicators – It’s a good thing that Campaigners have such strong people skills, or they’d never express these ideas. Campaigners enjoy both small talk and deep, meaningful conversations, which are just two sides of the same coin for them, and are adept at steering conversations towards their desired subjects in ways that feel completely natural and unforced.

Know How to Relax – It’s not all “nature of the cosmos” discussions with Campaigners – people with this personality type know that sometimes, nothing is as important as simply having fun and experiencing life’s joys. That Intuitive trait lets Campaigners know that it’s time to shake things up, and these wild bursts of enthusiastic energy can surprise even their closest friends.

Very Popular and Friendly – All this adaptability and spontaneity comes together to form a person who is approachable, interesting and exciting, with a cooperative and altruistic spirit and friendly, empathetic disposition. Campaigners get along with pretty much everyone, and their circles of friends stretch far and wide. Campaigner Weaknesses

Poor Practical Skills – When it comes to conceiving ideas and starting projects, especially involving other people, Campaigners have exceptional talent. Unfortunately their skill with upkeep, administration, and follow-through on those projects struggles. Without more hands-on people to help push day-to-day things along, Campaigners’ ideas are likely to remain just that – ideas.

Find it Difficult to Focus – Campaigners are natural explorers of interpersonal connections and philosophy, but this backfires when what needs to be done is that TPS report sitting right in front of them. It’s hard for Campaigners to maintain interest as tasks drift towards routine, administrative matters, and away from broader concepts.

Overthink Things – Campaigners don’t take things at face value – they look for underlying motives in even the simplest things. It’s not uncommon for Campaigners to lose a bit of sleep asking themselves why someone did what they did, what it might mean, and what to do about it.

Get Stressed Easily – All this overthinking isn’t just for their own benefit – Campaigners, especially Turbulent ones, are very sensitive, and care deeply about others’ feelings. A consequence of their popularity is that others often look to them for guidance and help, which takes time, and it’s easy to see why Campaigners sometimes get overwhelmed, especially when they can’t say yes to every request.

Highly Emotional – While emotional expression is healthy and natural, with Campaigners even viewing it as a core part of their identity, it can come out strongly enough to cause problems for this personality type. Particularly when under stress, criticism or conflict, Campaigners can experience emotional bursts that are counter-productive at best.

Independent to a Fault – Campaigners loathe being micromanaged and restrained by heavy-handed rules – they want to be seen as highly independent masters of their own fates, even possessors of an altruistic wisdom that goes beyond draconian law. The challenge for Campaigners is that they live in a world of checks and balances, a pill they are not happy to swallow. CAMPAIGNER RELATIONSHIPS When it comes to relationships, there’s hardly anyone around who is more excited than Campaigners to share with their partners the bounty of ideas and eye-opening experiences that life has to offer. For people with the Campaigner personality type, relationships are a joyous process of mutual exploration and imagination, a chance to connect with another soul. Campaigners take their relationships seriously, and are known for their uninhibited and unshakeable devotion to the people to whom they’ve committed their hearts.Campaigners have the advantage of irresistible charm when it comes to attracting a partner – Campaigners’ warmth, excitement and passion are simply alluring.In the dating phase, if Campaigners can be said to tolerate such a formal process to begin with, they will show these qualities by showering their new flames with affection, and will do everything they can to build a strong relationship by demonstrating their devotion and reliability by whatever means available. You Cannot Live Without a Fire Long-distance relationships are quite common among Campaigners, as they view physical distance as just another idea, no match for concepts like love. This gives them the chance to demonstrate their commitment, both by staying true despite the physical separation, and with overtures of effort to surprise their partners, crossing that distance on a whim. These are demonstrations of Campaigners’ mystery, idealism and deep emotion, and such efforts often keep the flames of a relationship burning bright.People with the Campaigner personality type express these ideals sexually as well, exploring the physical with imagination and passion, viewing these times together as a chance to let their feelings for each other shine, sharing their love and affection. Campaigners will willingly experiment with their partners, even early in a relationship, but they can also be oddly perfectionistic, believing that these physical acts are a representation of their deeper love, and as such should not be performed carelessly. This perfectionism is also a reflection of their sensitivity, their desire to not disappoint, and Campaigners appreciate a well-placed compliment.Not everyone can handle the excitement, occasional neediness, and emotional ups and downs that this philosophy entails, whether long-distance or long-term, mystical or physical.  Campaigners constantly explore new ideas and improvements, fantasize about future possibilities – in dating, this tendency to look at potential rather than the present can be self-defeating, and their spontaneity makes it harder to stay focused on their end goal of a long-term relationship. If their partners aren’t able to reciprocate these acts of excitement and devotion, Campaigners will likely end up feeling unhappy and misunderstood.So, You Think You Know the Real Me?Campaigners go all-in with their relationships, and if they fall apart despite their efforts, they can end up plagued with questions about why the relationship failed and what they could have done differently – without a buoy, these thoughts can crush Campaigners’ self-esteem as they sink into depression. It’s important for Campaigner personalities, as with anyone, to remember that relationships are in all ways mutual – mutual interest, mutual growth, and mutual responsibility – and they can’t be solely accountable.After a trial like this, Campaigners may be reluctant to open up and commit, and it can take years for a partner to navigate their bewildering depth and intensity, falsely believing that Campaigners’ enthusiasm and apparent openness means that they wear everything on their sleeves. The reality is that Campaigners’ spontaneity, the seeming inconsistency and erraticism the untrained eye sees, isn’t a product of flightiness or lack of depth, but the opposite – it is a drive to express ideas about a mystical, all-encompassing energy, in the confines of a physical world, and underlying it all is the uniting principle of love, expressed in many different ways, but unshakeable and infinite at its core. CAMPAIGNER FRIENDS As friends, Campaigners are cheerful and supportive, always sharing and developing ideas, and staying open-minded, taking in others’ thoughts and feelings. This warmth and sincerity makes people with the Campaigner personality type masters of drawing people out of their shells, and as a result they tend to have a huge circle of friends.As with other relationships, Campaigners view their friendships as opportunities to experience another angle of the universe, and tend to imbue potential friendships with that weighty and idealistic quality. 

An Exciting Adventure More outgoing types will naturally gravitate towards them, but Campaigners will also go to great lengths and be surprisingly persistent in their efforts to get to know more reserved personalities. Their ability to tune into others and speak their language with that characteristic infectious enthusiasm helps them in this endeavor, and the allure of mystery that reserved types, especially Introverted Intuitives, bring to the table will keep Campaigners intrigued for years. These personality types may never be able to reciprocate the breadth of human interest that Campaigners present, but they do appreciate. Campaigners’ efforts. But Campaigners’ interest in others can be a double-edged sword – this pure idealism comes with certain expectations, and too often Campaigners hold their friends in an unrealistic light, expecting them to keep up with the constant flow of ideas and experiences that they consider integral to life. Campaigners put their whole hearts into their friendships, and it can come as a shock for them to find that their friends aren’t the flawless Titans that they believed them to be. Whether it’s simple social fatigue or a focus on the physical and the practical instead of the mystical, people with the Campaigner personality type can find themselves disappointed by what they see as a lack of substance beneath the surface.Campaigners tend to get deeply involved in others’ lives, going to great lengths and efforts to be the selfless, caring and supportive people they are, and all the while forget to take care of themselves. Both in terms of basic needs like financial stability and rest, as well as more emotional needs like mutual understanding and reciprocation, Campaigner personalities tend to give much more of themselves than most are even capable of giving back. This sort of imbalance isn’t sustainable, as (seemingly) one-sided generosity often leads to criticism and resentment on both sides. Making Life Spectacular Luckily, Campaigners are open-minded and sincere enough in their friendships, and connect with and understand even their acquaintances well enough, that they recognize that not everyone expresses themselves in the same ways, and that that’s okay. Their sensitivity may make it too challenging to play with more critical and argumentative personalities, such as strongly expressed Thinking (T) and Judging (J) types, but they do appreciate, even cherish, the company of most anyone who appreciates theirs, and the adventures and experiences they have together are the stuff a good life is made of.

[gravecuriosity]

Personality Type

RULES: REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG. Do the test | here |.

Personality type: “The Campaigner” (ENFP-A)

85% Extraverted – Introverted 15% 81% Intuitive – Observant 19% 28% Thinking – Feeling 72% 46% Judging – Prospecting 54% 71% Assertive – Turbulent 29%

Role: Diplomat Strategy: People Mastery

CAMPAIGNER PERSONALITY (ENFP, -A/-T)

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for – and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool – for love – for your dreams – for the adventure of being alive. - Oriah Mountain Dreamer

The Campaigner personality is a true free spirit. They are often the life of the party, but unlike types in the Explorer Role group, Campaigners are less interested in the sheer excitement and pleasure of the moment than they are in enjoying the social and emotional connections they make with others. Charming, independent, energetic and compassionate, the 7% of the population that they comprise can certainly be felt in any crowd.

You Can Change the World With Just an Idea

More than just sociable people-pleasers though, Campaigners, like all their Diplomat cousins, are shaped by their Intuitive (N) quality, allowing them to read between the lines with curiosity and energy. They tend to see life as a big, complex puzzle where everything is connected – but unlike Analyst personality types, who tend to see that puzzle as a series of systemic machinations, Campaigners see it through a prism of emotion, compassion and mysticism, and are always looking for a deeper meaning.

Campaigners are fiercely independent, and much more than stability and security, they crave creativity and freedom.

Many other types are likely to find these qualities irresistible, and if they’ve found a cause that sparks their imagination, Campaigners will bring an energy that oftentimes thrusts them into the spotlight, held up by their peers as a leader and a guru – but this isn’t always where independence-loving Campaigners want to be. Worse still if they find themselves beset by the administrative tasks and routine maintenance that can accompany a leadership position. Campaigners’ self-esteem is dependent on their ability to come up with original solutions, and they need to know that they have the freedom to be innovative – they can quickly lose patience or become dejected if they get trapped in a boring role.

Don’t Lose That ’Little Spark of Madness’

Luckily, Campaigners know how to relax, and they are perfectly capable of switching from a passionate, driven idealist in the workplace to that imaginative and enthusiastic free spirit on the dance floor, often with a suddenness that can surprise even their closest friends. Being in the mix also gives them a chance to connect emotionally with others, giving them cherished insight into what motivates their friends and colleagues. They believe that everyone should take the time to recognize and express their feelings, and their empathy and sociability make that a natural conversation topic.

The Campaigner personality type needs to be careful, however – if they rely too much on their intuition, assume or anticipate too much about a friend’s motivations, they can misread the signals and frustrate plans that a more straightforward approach would have made simple. This kind of social stress is the bugbear that keeps harmony-focused Diplomats awake at night. Campaigners are very emotional and sensitive, and when they step on someone’s toes, they both feel it.

Campaigners will spend a lot of time exploring social relationships, feelings and ideas before they find something that really rings true. But when they finally do find their place in the world, their imagination, empathy and courage are likely to produce incredible results.

Campaigner Strengths

Curious – When it comes to new ideas, Campaigners aren’t interested in brooding – they want to go out and experience things, and don’t hesitate to step out of their comfort zones to do so. Campaigners are imaginative and open-minded, seeing all things as part of a big, mysterious puzzle called life.

Observant – Campaigners believe that there are no irrelevant actions, that every shift in sentiment, every move and every idea is part of something bigger. To satisfy their curiosity, Campaigners try to notice all of these things, and to never miss a moment.

Energetic and Enthusiastic – As they observe, forming new connections and ideas, Campaigners won’t hold their tongues – they’re excited about their findings, and share them with anyone who’ll listen. This infectious enthusiasm has the dual benefit of giving Campaigners a chance to make more social connections, and of giving them a new source of information and experience, as they fit their new friends’ opinions into their existing ideas.

Excellent Communicators – It’s a good thing that Campaigners have such strong people skills, or they’d never express these ideas. Campaigners enjoy both small talk and deep, meaningful conversations, which are just two sides of the same coin for them, and are adept at steering conversations towards their desired subjects in ways that feel completely natural and unforced.

Know How to Relax – It’s not all “nature of the cosmos” discussions with Campaigners – people with this personality type know that sometimes, nothing is as important as simply having fun and experiencing life’s joys. That Intuitive trait lets Campaigners know that it’s time to shake things up, and these wild bursts of enthusiastic energy can surprise even their closest friends.

Very Popular and Friendly – All this adaptability and spontaneity comes together to form a person who is approachable, interesting and exciting, with a cooperative and altruistic spirit and friendly, empathetic disposition. Campaigners get along with pretty much everyone, and their circles of friends stretch far and wide.

Campaigner Weaknesses

Poor Practical Skills – When it comes to conceiving ideas and starting projects, especially involving other people, Campaigners have exceptional talent. Unfortunately their skill with upkeep, administration, and follow-through on those projects struggles. Without more hands-on people to help push day-to-day things along, Campaigners’ ideas are likely to remain just that – ideas.

Find it Difficult to Focus – Campaigners are natural explorers of interpersonal connections and philosophy, but this backfires when what needs to be done is that TPS report sitting right in front of them. It’s hard for Campaigners to maintain interest as tasks drift towards routine, administrative matters, and away from broader concepts.

Overthink Things – Campaigners don’t take things at face value – they look for underlying motives in even the simplest things. It’s not uncommon for Campaigners to lose a bit of sleep asking themselves why someone did what they did, what it might mean, and what to do about it.

Get Stressed Easily – All this overthinking isn’t just for their own benefit – Campaigners, especially Turbulent ones, are very sensitive, and care deeply about others’ feelings. A consequence of their popularity is that others often look to them for guidance and help, which takes time, and it’s easy to see why Campaigners sometimes get overwhelmed, especially when they can’t say yes to every request.

Highly Emotional – While emotional expression is healthy and natural, with Campaigners even viewing it as a core part of their identity, it can come out strongly enough to cause problems for this personality type. Particularly when under stress, criticism or conflict, Campaigners can experience emotional bursts that are counter-productive at best.

Independent to a Fault – Campaigners loathe being micromanaged and restrained by heavy-handed rules – they want to be seen as highly independent masters of their own fates, even possessors of an altruistic wisdom that goes beyond draconian law. The challenge for Campaigners is that they live in a world of checks and balances, a pill they are not happy to swallow.

CAMPAIGNER RELATIONSHIPS

When it comes to relationships, there’s hardly anyone around who is more excited than Campaigners to share with their partners the bounty of ideas and eye-opening experiences that life has to offer. For people with the Campaigner personality type, relationships are a joyous process of mutual exploration and imagination, a chance to connect with another soul. Campaigners take their relationships seriously, and are known for their uninhibited and unshakeable devotion to the people to whom they’ve committed their hearts.

Campaigners have the advantage of irresistible charm when it comes to attracting a partner – Campaigners’ warmth, excitement and passion are simply alluring.

In the dating phase, if Campaigners can be said to tolerate such a formal process to begin with, they will show these qualities by showering their new flames with affection, and will do everything they can to build a strong relationship by demonstrating their devotion and reliability by whatever means available.

You Cannot Live Without a Fire

Long-distance relationships are quite common among Campaigners, as they view physical distance as just another idea, no match for concepts like love. This gives them the chance to demonstrate their commitment, both by staying true despite the physical separation, and with overtures of effort to surprise their partners, crossing that distance on a whim. These are demonstrations of Campaigners’ mystery, idealism and deep emotion, and such efforts often keep the flames of a relationship burning bright.

People with the Campaigner personality type express these ideals sexually as well, exploring the physical with imagination and passion, viewing these times together as a chance to let their feelings for each other shine, sharing their love and affection. Campaigners will willingly experiment with their partners, even early in a relationship, but they can also be oddly perfectionistic, believing that these physical acts are a representation of their deeper love, and as such should not be performed carelessly. This perfectionism is also a reflection of their sensitivity, their desire to not disappoint, and Campaigners appreciate a well-placed compliment.

Not everyone can handle the excitement, occasional neediness, and emotional ups and downs that this philosophy entails, whether long-distance or long-term, mystical or physical. Campaigners constantly explore new ideas and improvements, fantasize about future possibilities – in dating, this tendency to look at potential rather than the present can be self-defeating, and their spontaneity makes it harder to stay focused on their end goal of a long-term relationship. If their partners aren’t able to reciprocate these acts of excitement and devotion, Campaigners will likely end up feeling unhappy and misunderstood.

So, You Think You Know the Real Me?

Campaigners go all-in with their relationships, and if they fall apart despite their efforts, they can end up plagued with questions about why the relationship failed and what they could have done differently – without a buoy, these thoughts can crush Campaigners’ self-esteem as they sink into depression. It’s important for Campaigner personalities, as with anyone, to remember that relationships are in all ways mutual – mutual interest, mutual growth, and mutual responsibility – and they can’t be solely accountable.

After a trial like this, Campaigners may be reluctant to open up and commit, and it can take years for a partner to navigate their bewildering depth and intensity, falsely believing that Campaigners’ enthusiasm and apparent openness means that they wear everything on their sleeves. The reality is that Campaigners’ spontaneity, the seeming inconsistency and erraticism the untrained eye sees, isn’t a product of flightiness or lack of depth, but the opposite – it is a drive to express ideas about a mystical, all-encompassing energy, in the confines of a physical world, and underlying it all is the uniting principle of love, expressed in many different ways, but unshakeable and infinite at its core.

CAMPAIGNER FRIENDS

As friends, Campaigners are cheerful and supportive, always sharing and developing ideas, and staying open-minded, taking in others’ thoughts and feelings. This warmth and sincerity makes people with the Campaigner personality type masters of drawing people out of their shells, and as a result they tend to have a huge circle of friends.

As with other relationships, Campaigners view their friendships as opportunities to experience another angle of the universe, and tend to imbue potential friendships with that weighty and idealistic quality.

An Exciting Adventure

More outgoing types will naturally gravitate towards them, but Campaigners will also go to great lengths and be surprisingly persistent in their efforts to get to know more reserved personalities. Their ability to tune into others and speak their language with that characteristic infectious enthusiasm helps them in this endeavor, and the allure of mystery that reserved types, especially Introverted Intuitives, bring to the table will keep Campaigners intrigued for years. These personality types may never be able to reciprocate the breadth of human interest that Campaigners present, but they do appreciate Campaigners’ efforts.

But Campaigners’ interest in others can be a double-edged sword – this pure idealism comes with certain expectations, and too often Campaigners hold their friends in an unrealistic light, expecting them to keep up with the constant flow of ideas and experiences that they consider integral to life. Campaigners put their whole hearts into their friendships, and it can come as a shock for them to find that their friends aren’t the flawless Titans that they believed them to be. Whether it’s simple social fatigue or a focus on the physical and the practical instead of the mystical, people with the Campaigner personality type can find themselves disappointed by what they see as a lack of substance beneath the surface.

Campaigners tend to get deeply involved in others’ lives, going to great lengths and efforts to be the selfless, caring and supportive people they are, and all the while forget to take care of themselves. Both in terms of basic needs like financial stability and rest, as well as more emotional needs like mutual understanding and reciprocation, Campaigner personalities tend to give much more of themselves than most are even capable of giving back. This sort of imbalance isn’t sustainable, as (seemingly) one-sided generosity often leads to criticism and resentment on both sides.

Making Life Spectacular

Luckily, Campaigners are open-minded and sincere enough in their friendships, and connect with and understand even their acquaintances well enough, that they recognize that not everyone expresses themselves in the same ways, and that that’s okay. Their sensitivity may make it too challenging to play with more critical and argumentative personalities, such as strongly expressed Thinking (T) and Judging (J) types, but they do appreciate, even cherish, the company of most anyone who appreciates theirs, and the adventures and experiences they have together are the stuff a good life is made of.

CAMPAIGNER PARENTS

If there is anything that makes Campaigners great parents, it’s the sense of wonder they have for all things new and beautiful, a sense that they will be able to share with their children every day as they learn and grow. Throughout their children’s lives, Campaigners provide a combination of almost overwhelming love and support, and an unstructured environment revolving around freedom and creativity. This in no way means that people with the Campaigner personality type will simply leave their children to their own devices without guidance – rather, Campaigner parents want to share in their children’s perspective, share in a world without bounds.

Campaigner parents are playful and warm, and love to see their children excited, playing in and experimenting with the world around them. It is likely that Campaigner parents will encourage this play and growth by suggesting activities and lessons.

Campaigners will embrace and encourage productive interests as they arise, sweeping away dolls and dinosaurs when interests shift to the oceans, and sweeping away the fish when tastes change again, to the stars.

While they often enough recognize the value of structure and predictability, Campaigner parents are unlikely to have the heart (or as they may see it, the lack of heart) to establish these limitations themselves. They may need to depend on their partners to provide some necessary guidelines and discipline from time to time, but Campaigner parents will always have the advantage of their open-minded and empathetic nature, making them not just parents, but friends who their children feel comfortable confiding in. They needn’t always depend on their children broaching the subject either, as Campaigners have a natural skill in spotting emotional disharmony or physical discomfort in others.

Go On, Spread Your Wings

As their children approach the teenage years, all this emotion and attention can start to cloy, and their children may seek a more private independence. This can be a challenge for people with the Campaigner personality type – they have strong emotions, and invest those emotions heavily in the things and people they care about. While they may not be big on using proven ideas, Campaigners do like to see whether or not their ideas work, and this applies to their thoughts on parenting, too. As their adolescent children withdraw, they leave an unsolved mystery that can last for years, leaving their Campaigner parents wondering if their ideas on raising their children actually work, actually result in happy, independent and creative adults.

Luckily for them, so long as they raise their children with a sense of productive independence, rather than an aimless, against-the-grain antipathy, Campaigners will find that their children have developed a strong sense of self and self-worth, going confidently out into the big, wide world at their own pace and in their own style, knowing that they have both themselves and their Campaigner parents to depend on.

[drlaurynlax]

The Best Daily Schedule To Balance Your Circadian Rhythms Right Now

Balancing The Circadian Rhythms

Stress is inevitable, but staying connected to your body doesn’t have to be.  Take a look at this daily schedule to balance your circadian rhythms.

Your circadian rhythm is your body’s natural inborn clock that dictates how you feel and how your body operates…all day long—from sleeping, to waking, to hunger, digestion, energy and more. If stress gets in the way of your body’s natural clock, then chances are you will feel less energetic, more stressed, and/or experience a number of unwanted side effects.

Side Effects of Circadian Dysfunction

Common side effects associated with circadian “dysfunction” include:

Inflammation

Mood disorders (anxiety, depression)

Skin breakouts

Gut dysfunction (IBS, GERD, indigestion, bloating, bacterial overgrowth, leaky gut)

Allergies & low immune function

Insomnia

Feeling wired and tired at night

Coffee and sugar cravings

Carbohydrate intolerance

Hypo or hyperglycemia (blood sugar imbalances)

Iron overload (stress)

Metabolic dysfunction

Unwanted weight gain 

What to do about it?!

Reset your natural circadian rhythms, in touch with the 24-hour cycle it thrives upon!

The result? Less stress, more energy and feeling amazing (inside and out)!

In fact, many people find when they “reset their internal clock,” many of the health problems they had before start to go away!

Here is a sample daily schedule of how to optimize your circadian rhythms with your eating habits, sleeping habits, work habits and beyond.

Rise & Shine

No, you don’t have to necessarily get up when the sun comes out, but rising around early dawn and sun hours is a natural wakefulness that can start the day off with a bang. 

Move & Groove

Get your body and bowels moving and grooving. After a full night’s rest, your body has a little bit of extra umph, given you’re in touch with your circadian rhythms most days. During the night, if you were able to sleep as well, detoxification pathways have set your body up for a successful morning “poo.” Give yourself a little time to do the doo (#2)—drink 16 oz. of warm lemon water with sea salt, and 1 tbsp. of apple cider vinegar in 2-4 oz of water if you need some help downstairs. In addition, stretch, bounce (on a rebounder), go on a short brisk walk, or use the morning hours to wake your body up with some gentle morning movement. 

Eat a Stabilizing Breakfast

Set your body into balance for the day with a protein-based breakfast, such as homemade chicken or turkey sausage, wild caught salmon, leftover meat from dinner, or pastured eggs and bacon. Add some healthy fat (like avocado, raw nuts/seeds, MCT oil, ghee, coconut oil) and veggies (especially dark leafy greens) to get your motor running. Protein helps balance out blood sugar levels for the rest of the day to prevent mid-morning and mid-afternoon dips. 

Creative Space

The morning hours after breakfast until lunchtime are your time to shine. Use the energy and creativity the body naturally has during this time to do your most creative work, or put your head down to get through the tasks that require more energy, power and thought.

Mid-Day Break

We can only work so hard for so long. Use mid-day for a “recess” break to energize your body in new ways in order to reset and refocus if you need to in the afternoon. Around noon or 1, take a break to move your body (walk, workout, stretch) or get fresh air and a change in scenery. Mid-day is a great time to workout, especially if you didn’t in the morning. Also use this time to “fuel” your body with some mid-day fuel. If we look to our Ayurvedic body clock, it encourages us to eat our primary meal in the middle of the day, when the “fire” of pitta dominates. Pitta supports our ability to digest all things—food, thoughts, and feelings.

The hours of 1-3 are also your “small intestine” hour according to Chinese medicine, so forgo the granola bar or smoothie, and opt for a more complete and balanced meal, such as: greens with plenty of colorful veggies, healthy fats and organic proteins; chicken salad “salad” with avocado mayo, seed crackers and veggies; a coconut flour tortilla or lettuce wrap with turkey or grass-fed meat, guacamole, sauerkraut and a side of veggies; or leftover dinner protein, low glycemic veggies or tubers, and greens cooked in ghee or coconut oil. However: try to avoid TOO heavy or dense of a meal at lunch to preserve optimal energy and brain function for the afternoon hours. 

Back to the Grind: With New Gusto

3 pm sugar or coffee cravings ever strike? You’re not alone. Many people hit a slump somewhere between 2-6 p.m. as the adrenals—that sit on top of the kidneys—“go to work” during the “bladder” and “kidney” hours. As cortisol levels fall during this time, your “need” for stimulants (like coffee or cookies) goes up. How to game this?! Protein and healthy fat foods promote more blood sugar stability if a snack attack strikes. For coffee, resist the urge and opt for herbal tea or green tea at the very least. You can also consider titrating off coffee slowly with my coffee trick using amino acids. If you’re in the office, keep your body alert and engaged with a standing desk, yoga ball and/or surrounding yourself with natural light if possible.

You may find too that this time of day is better for e-mail responding and check-list tasks that don’t require as much focus. If you were unable to move or workout in the morning or afternoon, a post-work workout could also be a “pick me up.” After about 6 or 7 p.m., strenuous exercise is not recommended for optimal sleep and circadian balance. As for supplements, AdrenaStim by APEX Energetics is a great topical cream for individuals who get the “slump.” However, if your cortisol seems to be “off” and actually higher at this time, AdrenaCalm (a calming cream) would be more appropriate for you. 

Simple Supper

Have you ever heard the rule, “don’t eat past 8 pm?” While this is not a hard and fast rule, a look to your natural circadian rhythms does recommend eating a balanced supper 2-3 hours before bedtime so your body can finish digesting your food before sleep, and you’ll be able to transition from being awake to a more restful state. Many people find they feel best leaving their starchier veggies or carb intake to the evening hours as well, such as a sweet potato, squash or cooked and cooled white rice with dinner to further promote sleepy time, and optimize glycogenesis (your liver’s uptake of carbs). 

Candle Down

At about 6 in the evening until 10 p.m., we move into a rhythm of more “kapha” energy—dull, slow, stable, heavy (the kind of energy that makes it more difficult to easily wake up after sunrise). This energy now supports our move into sleep. Use this time of the evening to de-stimulate your brain. Shut off screens at least 1, preferably 2-3 hours, before bed. Use lamps and candle light, instead of overhead lights. Drink Bedtime, Calming or Relaxed Mind Tea, like Yogi’s brand. Read. Reflect. Connect with people. 

Resist the Second Wind

Come 10 p.m., if we haven’t been winding down, most people report getting a “second wind”—an extra “umph” when the body comes back—more alive. The body uses the four-hour period (from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m.) to digest experiences, emotions, and any remaining food from earlier in the day, and to repair and renew itself. However, if you fought through the drowsiness from your candle down time and stay up too late, you’ll catch that second wind that can keep you up to all hours). The result? Good bye good night’s sleep. 

Want help or guidance in getting off your own hamster wheel you’ve been on and resetting your health and body’s clock?

Dr. Lauryn & her clinic staff work with clients worldwide to reinvent the way they look, move, feel and think with our customized nutrition, supplement, lifestyle and health protocols, and health programs. 

Connect with us today for a complimentary 10-minute call to learn more, or request an initial consult appointment on our website.   

The post The Best Daily Schedule To Balance Your Circadian Rhythms Right Now appeared first on Meet Dr. Lauryn.

Source/Repost=> https://drlauryn.com/hormones-metabolism/the-best-daily-schedule-to-balance-your-circadian-rhythms-right-now/ ** Dr. Lauryn Lax __Nutrition. Therapy. Functional Medicine ** https://drlauryn.com/

[reliquumtheseries]

Reliquum Chapter One

                                               Prologue  

                                             Sleeping God

“Can you believe that it's already been six years since that night? It doesn’t feel as though time has passed us by so quickly but there is no mistaking it they’ve grown so big it makes me a bit emotional?”

“You’re right sister, it feels like it was yesterday that night still plays in my mind but you’re supposed to be preparing for the Adolescentem Ceremony you are one of the presiding Praecepter after all.”

“I know I just wanted to watch them from this perspective one more time before they become my disciples. After today their lives will change forever they’ll see this world for what it truly is they’ll become completely different……”

“They’ll become completely different people. Adults, is that what you were about to say?”

“No, it’s just..…Do you remember our Adol Ceremony?” “We were nothing like them.” “We'd already seen the truth by their age. We were already tainted by the sins of the elders.”

“We had no other choice. We were forced to take the weight of the world upon our shoulders. We didn’t have the time or the privilege they’ve been allotted.” 

“True but isn’t that why we did everything we did. To give them the gift that we never had.  An actual childhood and genuine innocence.” 

“YANA!” 

A booming voice Interrupted their conversation and suddenly a dark-skinned man with long black hair and adorned in the white, and gold uniform of the I.M.A appeared in the Armchair to the left of them.  

“Don’t….dodon’t yell at me like that. You never raise your voice so when you do it’s terrifying.”

“I apologize Eve but I……..We all need you to be clear-headed from here on out.”

As he continued to speak his voice began to soften but maintained its air of seriousness. 

 “You will be their guide through this coming turbulence, you'll be the one who will answer the many questions they’ll certainly have and you are not wrong for wanting to maintain their Innocence it is after all the very reason we took the actions we have up until now but the time has come to prepare them for what lies ahead and both you and Ryu are right we were not afforded the opportunity to stay asleep for as long as they have. We were forced awake by the truth of this world and then given the choice to live in a nightmare masked as a dream or stay awake.” 

“We chose to stay awake and write the dream for the next generation.” “It was unfortunate for us but fortunate for them.” “That’s why your role is so integral to everything we've worked for.” “You will be their bridge to the truth, a way of easing them into it all.” “I believe you’d both agree that it’s better than being thrown out of the “dream” with no guide to show them the way.” “Once they’re ready we can finally bring an end to this Era of Lies.” 

“So please Eve calm your mind, clear away the fog and set your eyes towards the task at hand, one that only you can do as only you can.”

The Man looked at Biyana and Ryu then nodded and as fast as he’d appeared he vanished. 

“Sadly that’s the most he’s spoken in months the only other times he wakes from his slumber is during emergencies of the highest order or when he needs to give directives and even then it’s only his Astral Projections.”

“I wish he would finally wake up. I know that he needs to be in that state to access The Records but It just doesn’t feel the same...….he doesn’t feel the same.”   

The Mood in the room turns Melancholic.

“I know Yana it doesn’t feel the same but you know how he is when it comes to achieving his goals. That determination and conviction to see whatever challenge that he faces through to the end is the very reason I decided to follow him all those years ago.”

“When he finally does awaken I’m going to slug him for leaving us alone for so long.” 

“You sure it isn’t the fact that he left you alone for so long It seems that you miss him more than anyone.”

“Hmph, I don’t know what you're talking about I don’t miss him in the slightest.”

“Yana you can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me.”

 “SHUT UP RUEY!” Now blushing from his teasing she proceeds to punch Ryu. 

“Ouch, you're so violent……I think you broke my arm.”

“No way your body is made of steel, you remember when you punched that mountain and cracked it in half you didn’t even flinch afterward.”

“Yeah, not even a flinch you know me Ha ha ha.” Laughing nervously he thinks about the pain he felt after shattering every bone in his hand that day. 

“Anyway, I hear you finally found number seven was it another child from the Noble House’s or a Branch Family?”

“No in fact until recently she wasn’t even a Magi.”

“Ho..how is that possible at the very least she must be a descendant of an exiled line that’s the only way she could have broken her Sigillum.”

“I thought the same thing at first but I checked every living member of her family and their Sigillums are still in place.”

“The chances of a normal human not only breaking their seal but surviving the resulting influx of mana is one in a billion.”

“Your right she’s an actual anomaly and the incident that caused her power to manifest was odd in and of itself.”

“For you to say that after everything we’ve seen scares me what happened?” 

“There was an accident that nearly killed her no it should have killed her but somehow her body instinctively started healing itself I would say she unknowing used an Incantation from the second school but it was passive almost similar to the abilities of an Armis Magi.”

“Breaking her seal then surviving the resulting mana overload, and possessing the ability to passively heal you have to let me train this girl.”

“No none of my disciples are ready for that level of training though three of them probably think they are.”

“So not only do you have the boy whose set to become the next head of House Guidry that everyone’s been calling a prodigy but also the Armis Magi from the Ito Clan who trying to learn Incantations then there’s the kid that descends from the House of Rauch and I hear he can already use commands and of course the two candidates for the title of “Rose” it honestly doesn’t shock me that Riona’s little sister would be considered for such a role but the girl with the powerful Illusions from The House of Wright is surprising and now this girl that’s a…...rarity…...oddity…...miracle I don’t even know how to describe her.

“Amazing that’s the word you’re looking for Beau Guidry, Kenji Ito, Ryker Lehman, Aoibhinn (Ivy) Reid, Piper Wright, and Aurora Gola there all amazing.”

“Hmm……to be completely honest with you I never thought I’d regret becoming Praefectus of the I.M.A’s Military Forces but I’m a little jealous that you get to take these kids under your wing. It's going to be one hell of a show.”

“I know they all have the potential to become incredible Magi’s and with the right guidance they’ll even surpass us one day.”

“Ohh and how could you forget about your first pick?”

“Very funny Ruey you know none of us could ever forget about him.” “I'll be personally bringing him to the ceremony I was going to pay him a visit anyway so why not.”

“Already showing your bias huh Isn’t that favoritism.”

“No you know today is special for him in more than one way or did you forget.”

“Special day……….Oh crap it’s his birthday damn I’m a terrible big brother”

“Hmhm you tried to make me feel guilty and look at you now.”

“Tell him that I’ll make it up to him later.”

“Sure sure sure.”

“I SWEAR I will make it up to him somehow. I've been so busy lately that I let it slip from my mind.”

“Fine I’ll tell him you have something big planned for later”

“You’re the best sis”

“Well I’d better get going I’ll contact you after the Ceremony.”

“May the lux bless your path sister.”

“May the lux bless your path brother.”

In the blink of an eye she vanishes leaving Ryu alone he sighs as a sullen look falls over his face thinking to himself that he’s a terrible brother for forgetting such an important day.

“Happy Birthday Arcades I promise you I’ll make it up to you and I’m positive he’s thinking the same thing right now.” He walks out of the meeting hall and descends to the second-lowest level of the Tower. 

In front of him is a massive door engraved with the Sigils of the Thirteen Bloodlines arranged in a circle with the Sigil of the first bloodline in the center surrounded by runes. 

He channels mana into his fingertip and rearranges the runes into a specific pattern once the last rune was placed in the correct order the door began to glow opening in segments as it did revealing a large room with bookshelves spanning the walls to the left and the right of him in the center of the room sat an oval-shaped table with a map of the world etched into the ancient wood.

He directed his gaze towards the furthest end of the room where a gigantic mana crystal was imbued in the wall.  

Inside of it was a man with long black hair the roots of which were as white as snow itself. Placing his hand on the crystal the thoughts racing through his mind came to a head as he spoke to the sleeping man.

“She’s right you know it doesn't feel the same. We’ve done our part now it’s your turn it’s time to wake up.” 

“Please wake up Aniki.”

                                                               Chapter 1

                                         From 4,000 Miles Away

“Big Brother Big Brother BIG BROTHER PLEASE WAKE UP” Tears Streaming Down His Face. 

“Cades I’m…...I’m fine wipe your eyes there nothing to worry about I was just resting my eyes”

“But you were moaning in your sleep like you were in pain and……and your Doves they’ve turned black all of them but one”

“They turned because of the overflow of Nox they’ll be fine after a while”

“But doesn’t that mean it’s my fault that……”

 Lucien thumps Arcades on his forehead.

“Ouch why’d you do that Lulu” 

Lucien rest’s his forehead on Arcades forehead like a parent checking a child’s temperature.

“Calm down and stop trying to blame yourself.” “Do you remember the promise I made to you” 

“That no matter what happens or how far away we are from each other that you’ll always be there for me but……”

“But nothing Cades, I meant what I meant no matter what happens I’ll always be there for you even after I’ve left this world whenever you need me all you have to do is call my name Understand”

“Okay ‘ Big brother I understand”

Arcades heard a voice piercing this Melancholic Memory that manifested itself as a dream.

“Arcades, Arcades, YOUNG MASTER ARCADES.” A flutter of her pure white wings sends a wave of wind throughout the boy’s room.

“Lady Minerva I knew it was your voice I was hearing.” I'm sorry I should have woken up the second I heard it but I just wanted to watch a little longer.”

“It’s perfectly fine Young Master Arcades you are a growing boy after all you need your sleep in order to do so.” Minerva sighs she knew what Arcades did while he slept. Unlike most humans or even most Magi who fall into REM Sleep and manifest subconscious Fears, Hopes, Regrets, Desires and everything else the Human Mind can think of Arcades was different. 

Since the age of three, he could actively control his Dream State often using it to replay Memories to such a high degree that to an Outside Observer like her it was as if this boy could turn back time to that exact moment. 

This was an extremely rare type of Lost Magic known as “Dreamwalking” and while Arcades used this ability for Nostalgic Purposes she knew that this was the lesser scope of his power.

And she often thought of what he’d be capable of when he finally realized his true potential. 

But in truth, she knew this was just a side note compared to the innate power the boy was born with and the so-called destiny attached to that very power.

Minerva then thought about the vast amount of sheer power that he and his siblings were imbued with. 

To think that the children of “The Belmont Boy” and “The Rose of House Vivant” were this gifted the fact that not one not two but three once in a generation Magi were born into the same line and all within 7 years of each other.

This was highly improbable and thought to be virtually impossible especially in this age. But perhaps it was indeed that word Humans called destiny.

“But that being said it is your birthday and……..You Have A Visitor” She laughs mischievously.  

“A visitor, who would visit me so early Lady Minerva who is it?”

“I was explicitly told not to tell you who it is.”

“Why not?”

"Because it’s a surprise Young Master now Up, Up, Up” She flapped her wings sending a blast of wind at Arcades powerful enough to throw him out of bed.

“Wait, Lady Minerva, I’m still naked” 

Minerva laughs knowing that he’d slept in the buff since he was a little boy just like his brother. 

As he stood up to cover himself when his bedroom door burst open.

“What is taking you soooo long Cades I came all this way to wish you a Happy Birthday and this is………”

Biyana’s jaw dropped when she realized what was in front of her. She looked down then looked up then looked down again then looked up once more.

“Yana what are you doing here….I...I...I” His body went stiff and his face glowed red and as he looked at Biyana his eyes wandered towards her bust suddenly feeling a tingle in his groan he covers his private parts with his hands instantly knowing that he had an erection. 

“CADES……You just turned 13 and you’ve already become a PERV”

“I’m not this just a misunderstanding that all”-

“A misunderstanding eh well explain THAT!” Pointing towards the erection sparsely covered by his hands.

“This this isn’t for you I mean this wasn’t for you I mean it’s just because I just woke up” He stuttered trying to explain it away knowing that he was just digging a bigger hole for himself.

“So why did you scan my body with eyes…..”

“No that was just an accident I didn’t know who It was at first” 

“AND MY BOOBS ARE WHAT HELPED YOU RECOGNIZE ME” Growing angry at the implication.     

“No that’s not what I meant It’s not like I stare at your chest all the time. It’s just the Dress your wearing shows off a lot of Cleav…….” He stops himself realizing that he shouldn’t have brought up her dress”

“CADES” Her anger peaks as she raises her index finger readying it to strike him with a spell.

“I can’t believe my little Cades grew up to be like every other PERVERTED Man” Tears welling up in her eyes as Mana crackles around her raised finger. 

“Yana please I didn’t mean it like that you have to understand I just woke up and then Lady Minerva blasted me out of bed and then you burst in before I could cover myself I would never do something like that to you” Realizing that his explanations aren’t working he results to cuteness.

“Please Big sister you have to understand it was a mistake” Using the Infamous Puppy Dog Eyes Technique that his brother taught him.

Now disarmed by the boy’s cuteness she disarms her spell and lowered her finger and enveloped him in a bear hug completely forgetting his transgression and…….the fact that he was naked.

“Oh Cades I could never stay mad at you”

A wave of relief washes over Arcades knowing that he made it through this situation by the skin of his teeth. 

“Oh No Oh No Oh No” He then realizes that his face was now buried in Biyana chest and he immediately knew that this was the worst possible place to be especially while naked and he tried to force himself to think of something other than being smothered by breasts but Puberty overtakes his mind.

“What wrong Cades…….” Slowly realizing the situation when suddenly something poked her in the thigh. Glancing down she focuses in on the hard object poking her in the thigh she faints from the shock.

“Crap crap okay I just have to wake her somehow” As Biyana drops to the floor he goes to catch her but as he tries to pull her up he looks towards the broken door and notices the head maid of the manor standing there with a ghost-white face.

“AR-CAD-ES……..WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!”

“Miss Mio I was just trying to help Yana….” He then thinks about how this must look standing over a passed-out woman completely naked with an erection.

“Lux’s Grace this isn’t my day” 

“Lady Mio” Minerva, who has been laughing the entire time, realizes that Arcades has had enough torment for one day and begins to explain the situation for him.

“This is not what it seems Young Master Arcades simply rushed to his feet after Lady Biyana passed out from exhaustion I can certainly understand how this situation could be misinterpreted as something rather obscene considering that the Young Master sleeps in the buff and his “little sword” is unsheathed but a woman blessed such as Lady Biyana is would likely light a fire in any boy’s loins and especially one as inexperienced as the Young Master”

“Ahh now that makes sense for a minute there I thought my lord had grown into a ravenous pervert”

“Hey! I’m not a perv I swear” 

“Yes I know but your “sword” tells a different story.

His embarrassment at its peak and wanting the moment to be over he rushes to grab for his bed sheet to cover himself forgetting that he was holding up Biyana. Dropping her but before she could hit the ground Mio had already stopped her fall.

“Thank you, Miss Mio!”

“You're welcome now wash up PUT SOME CLOTHES ON and when your ready come downstairs Lord Belmont and Lady Yvonne have prepared something special for your birthday” Mio easily lifts Biyana and carefully shepherds her out the door and closes it behind her.

“Okay I’ll be down in a moment”

“You could have done that at the beginning it would have saved me a lot of trouble or better yet you could have been a little bit more gentle with the Wind Blast.” 

“Sometimes I think you do things just to torment me, Lady Minerva.” He Sighed.

“No Young Master I would never do anything that would cause you undue trouble” This was true Minerva’s loyalty lay solely with Arcades and everything that she does is in his best interest even if he doesn’t know it. 

She knew that Biyana was on her way up the stairs and she knew that him being blown out of bed would line up perfectly with Biyana bursting through his door and set up the situation as a way of distracting Arcades from the memory he was replaying inside of his dream. 

Even after he’d awakened, it was still on his mind and she knew that if she didn’t stop it now, he would continue to think about it throughout the day and she didn’t want him to be stuck in a state of melancholy especially on such an important day. 

It wasn’t just his 13th birthday it was also the day of his “Adolescentem Ceremony” and she wanted him to be able to look back on this day as one of Joy and Celebration, not one clouded by memories of the past. 

“Alright time to get ready” He started his morning hygiene routine. The whole process took around 15 minutes after which he rushes down the stairs, hook’s left runs down the hallway, and walks into the Great Hall of Aldavastum, the estate of House Vivant.

“Looks like you're ready for your big day but I heard you had a little trouble getting out of bed” He laughs knowingly.

“I don’t even want to talk about it” 

“It’s fine trust me I understand you're becoming a man so of course, you’d try to make your move”

“DAD It was a misunderstanding” 

“That’s what we all say son that’s what we all say”

“Umm, I don’t even want to know what that means” Deadpan Face. “Anyway, Miss Mio said you and mom had something for me?”

“Ahh yes your Birthday Gifts” Lucas gets up from his armchair and grabs an ornate box off of the Antique Side Table he sits the box down in front of Arcades

“Open it” 

“Okay,” Inside it sat three items. 

The first was a Pendant with the Sigil of House Belmont engraved into the metal. 

The second was a white Peignoir “Robe” with the Crest of House Vivant emblazoned in gold on the lower left side of it. 

The third and final gift was what appears to be an Ivory Pen etched into it is a tree with 13 limbs and 13 stars at the tip of each limb.

“One from me One from your mother and One from your grandfather” 

“All three are Heirlooms of both the House of Belmont and the House Vivant” 

Arcades stared at them with amazement. 

“The Belmont Pendant think of it as a battery.” 

“Magi from the House of Belmont are often born with immense almost overpowering amounts of mana and they’d use this Heirloom to store the excess.” 

“All you have to do is enter a meditative state and allow your mana to flow into The Pendant and it will be stored there until it is needed.” 

“It also allows its owner to temporarily mask their presence from an enemy who may be targeting them by storing its owner’s entire “Mana Well” but only for a short amount of time.” 

“For a normal Magi, it could hide their presence for about 5-6 hours for a Belmont that time is reduced to 1 hour and 30 minutes but for someone like you it may last for 30 minutes at the most.” Lucas takes a small chain out of his pocket and loops it through the Pendant and puts it around Arcades neck.

“It’s amazing dad” Arcades could immediately feel The Pendant passively siphoning his mana and storing it inside of itself he could also feel what seemed to be the mana of the previous owners.

“Hmm Interesting” 

“It seems you can already feel the remnants of the former wearers. It’s an interesting perk of The Pendant each new owner can feel small remnants of mana from the previous members of the House of Belmont. A way of always keeping the connection with our Forefathers alive”

Arcades put on The Peignoir and it instantly begins to resize itself to perfectly fit him and to his shock changes into a hoodie.

“Wow this is AWESOME”

“The Peignoir of House Vivant gives its wearer a boost in their Overall Speed, Elemental, Restoration and Alteration Magic it also changes its appearance and size to fit the wearer style and body type” 

Arcades marvels at how comfortable it is to him it feels like it was meant for him to wear to it.

“What does the pen do?”

“That’s no Pen son in fact out of all of these items it is the most sacred and certainly the most powerful” 

“That is the Baculus wielded by the very first Grand Magus it’s been passed down through the generations and is only gifted to a Magus with the potential to become one of the most powerful Magi who has ever lived.” 

Only those with massive amounts of mana can even hold it let alone wield it. Like The Belmont Pendant, it siphons off the mana of the wielder but instead of storing the mana it channels and amplifies every Incantation, Commandment, or Declaration making them ten times stronger and like The Peignoir it will also alter itself to match the needs and personality of its current wielder.” 

It has transformed into everything from a Wand to a Ring and it’s said that some of its previous owners could manifest a set of extremely powerful weapons known as “The Armory of Ashanti” the historians state that it consists of a pair of Destructive Gauntlet’s, a Great Bow, a War Hammer, a Deadly Scythe and even a Legendary Sword”

“Ohh I used to read about those in Grandpa’s dusty old books supposedly Great Grandpa Maxim and the third Grand Covenant used them to end the Great Armis Rebellion but never Imagined that they were all one weapon” He picked it up and like the pendant, he feels it passively siphoning his mana with a noticeable difference with the Pendant it felt as if his mana was being poured into a sealable container but this felt as if his mana was flowing through a pipe.  

He ran his finger along the top and it began to expand in length and width the top then split open almost like a flower blossoming and when the transformation stopped the staff stood 7 feet tall. 

He began pouring mana into it and an orb forms at the top of the staff he pours even more into it and the orb grows in size as the tree etched into it began to glow and the stars atop each of the 13 limbs shined brighter he points the staff towards the fireplace in the Great Hall and speaks an Incantation.

“Fax”  The orb shot from the staff at breakneck speed sucking the residual mana out of the staff as it left.

 The orb made contact with the brick lining the back of the fireplace and bursts with a massive shockwave that rattles the great hall and scorches the walls around the fireplace.

“Oh shii...I mean crap”  

“I didn’t mean to do that, I'm sorry dad” Shocked at how powerful the amplified spell was he used a rudimentary flame spell, one that should have only been able to light the wood inside the fireplace at most.

“Your fine son I’m honestly surprised that you were able to cast even a simple spell so easily again it takes a massive amount of mana just to wield it let alone cast a spell but I suppose you are the exception to most rules and don’t worry about the fireplace and the wall’s” Lucas waves his index towards the fireplace and it began to repair itself he then does the same to the wall surrounding it within a minute the area was completely fixed.

“Now your mother is expecting you, she's on the Patio don’t keep her waiting”. 

“Yes sir” Arcades turns toward the arch of the Great Hall and begins to leave. 

“Oh and son…...Happy Birthday”

“Thanks, Dad” Arcades walks out the Great Hall and sprints down the long corridors of Aldavastum finally reaching the double doors leading to Manor’s Jardin and steps onto the patio. 

“I DON’T CARE WHAT LUCIEN SAYS HE’S NOT READY YET” Yvonne and Biyana were sitting in summer chairs across from each other mid-conversation.              

“Lady Yvonne you know Laz he would never give him a task he couldn’t accomplish or put him in a situation where his life would be in danger”  

“Your right I do know him I know him better than he knows himself and I know the expectations he has for Arcades and it's too much for him to handle at such a young age” 

“Lady Yvonne trust me I understand I brought up that exact point and he won’t budge the timescale doesn’t allow for leeway” Grinding her teeth trying to contain her rage.

“DAMN THE TIMESCALE I will not let my son shoulder the weight of this world like his broth….”

“Like his brother like we had to at such a young age due to no fault of our own” 

“Eve you both know how I felt about that night you both know how much I protested what The Nobles and The Elder’s were doing you both know much I fought for you all”

“But in the end, it still led to nothing” They stared at each other, and the glass table between them started to shatter.

“If it has to come this then so be it but you should remember who held that title of yours Rose of House Maxwell”

“And you should remember how I gained that title Former Rose of House Vivant”    

“Is everything okay?” The Tension was palpable. Arcades stepped out to stop the argument but they instantly stopped talking, confusing him.

 “Of course, Cades everything’s fine!” Repairing the cracked table as he walks towards them.

“Yes…..everything's fine my son” Her face still red from pure anger.  

“Okay…....good Dad said that you wanted me for something 

“Actually someone else wanted you I’m just their proxy”

“Who is it, Uncle Yves or Uncle Henri”

“Henri is not your uncle he’s a cousin from the branch family how many times do I have to tell you that”

“Uncle, Cousin what’s the difference” 

“There’s a big difference Idiot” Yvonne and Biyana speak in unison. The boy’s denseness lightens the mood a bit. 

“Okay okay geez”

“No it’s not Yves or Beau you’ll just have to find out for yourself there’s a box in the Jardin with your name on it”

“HMM…...A random box for me Hmmm it might be a declaration of love from my secret admirer or maybe…….IT’S A TRAP”

“Really” Deadpan Face. Speaking in unison again.   

“Yep it’s definitely a trap I’ve seen enough movies to know that

‘BOY Go open the box” 

“Go ahead son don’t keep us waiting for much longer and stop watching those 80’s Movies there rotting your brain” 

“Okay, I guess I’ll open the box” He walked down the steps of the Patio and towards the small box in the middle of the estates luscious Jardin as he squatted down to examine the box he wondered what could possibly be inside was too small to even hold a wristwatch let alone anything bigger.

It was made of Ashwood with thirteen lines running along the sides of the box leading to the top where they met in a spiral pattern that resembled a whirlpool inside the spiral was a small circle with the initials A.A.B  carved into the wood. 

“Someone put a lot of work into whatever inside if the box is this fancy” He pulls a small purple tab from a corner of the box and the side panels fall to the ground but the top of the box descended slowly as if someone was personally placing a puzzle piece. 

When it reached the ground the initials carved into the top began glowing with mana quickly looped around the spiral then traced along the thirteen lines adorning the side panels the lines which now expanded out from the deconstructed box met each other in a circle then branched off into more lines that once again met in a circle which spawned more lines this process repeated itself thirteen times. 

“What the he….” Arcades mesmerized by the display didn’t even notice that these concentric circles and the lines connecting them surrounded him when he realized what was happening. It was too late. 

“Is this…..Am I in a….” He was inside of a gigantic Spell Circle that spanned the entirety of Aldavastum’s massive garden.

“The box was just an activation key and I…..was the target” He worried that perhaps he was right and this was an elaborate trap but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Once again distracted by this turn of events he didn’t notice that his feet were no longer touching the ground.

He’d begun to float as he did the spell circle spawned Lesser Spirits that followed him on his ascent. 

They were Birds of every feather Eagles, Parrots, Robins, Blue Jays, Hummingbirds, and Land Animals of every kind Rabbits, Foxes, Dogs, Cats, Mice, Pika’s, Gophers and Chipmunks there were too many of them for him to count.

The circle then began summoning Great Spirits some of which he had only read about in books like the Dryad’s, Oceanids, Meliads, and Sirens all flying around him as he continued his ascent.

The Dryad’s put a crown of Alder Wood on his head.

The Oceanids created elaborate shows of Water Magic.

The  Meliads fed him rare fruits, berries, and candies that appear to be made of honey and milk but to him, they tasted like heaven.

The Sirens transformed into beautiful women and flirted with him. 

One took the appearance of Biyana then winked making him blush.  

Another took the form of a blonde woman with deep blue eyes that entranced him and sent chills up his spine at the same. 

And the last seemed different somehow. She was a red-haired woman with freckles covering her face and bright green eyes that shined like emeralds. She flew towards him and whispered, “Protect Each Other”  in his ear. She then kissed his forehead and disappeared.

This filled him with a sense of comfort and longing while flooding his mind with questions.

“Who was she and What did she mean?” But before he could sink into deep contemplation he noticed something through the menagerie of Spirit’s.

It was a Pillar of Flames spewing from the furthest edge of the Spell Circle and as he looked around he counted thirteen of them each in a different color rising into the sky and converging inside of a cloud bursting it open and creating a fireworks show that filled the sky with colors that spelled out the words.

Happy Birthday Cades  

As he began descending the Spirits that were summoned flew above him and dispersed their corporeal forms into Pure Mana combining in one massive orb that burst forth releasing thousands of Cherry Blossom Petals that surrounded him as he finally reached the ground. 

“WOAH someone went all out” As he tried to take in everything that had just occurred he saw a dove familiar flying towards him it was carrying a piece of parchment in its beak. 

The dove landed on his stomach tilted its head as Arcades took the letter from its beak. 

It flapped its wings and lifted off back into the sky. 

He unraveled the gold ribbon tied around the letter and he noticed that it was blank. 

As he rubs his thumbs on the edge of the parchment writing begins to appear in the top left-hand corner. 

It says. 

  Cades

 Blood of Blood 

It doesn’t matter how far away we are from each other I’ll always be there for you wherever or whenever that may be no matter how long it takes to reach you or the trials I may face on my way there I’ll always come all you have to do is call my name. If you do remember then I hope my absence on such an important day for you doesn’t undermine that promise I hold it as scared as one does an Oath and I hope that you know that if it wasn’t for my role and the Duties and Responsibilities that come with it that I would be there right beside you but know that You are always on my mind and I’m always watching over you and I couldn’t be prouder of the man your growing into I can’t wait to see where the journey your about to embark upon takes you just know that wherever it does I’ll be there even in death. I hope you enjoyed your gifts, they were my way of showing my love even from 4,000 miles away.                

-L.L.V

“Idiot” Arcades looked up at the sky still soaked with colors watching the Cherry Blossoms as they continued to fall and he began to cry.

“Of course, I remember” Choking on his words with tears streaming down his face.

****

“So that’s what he was planning I was wondering how he would make up for not being here but he certainly pulled it off” Yvonne and Biyana watch Arcades as he begins to cry and they become emotional as well.

“He’s always known how to put on a Good Show and a Beautiful One at that” 

“So can I take that as your……”

“Yes Eve you have my blessing to become his Praeceptor I think he knew that I would have reservations about anyone taking Cades as a student due to the nature of his powers that’s why he chose you out of everyone he could have picked he knew that I’d be the most comfortable with you and I believe that he believes you would be the perfect person for this role”

“Thank you Mother Yvonne I love you.”  

“I love you too Eve but..…..Mother Yvonne, I didn’t know that you and Lucien were in a relationship?”

“Ohh neither does he.”

“Ummm” Deadpan Face. 

****

Lucas watched the show from the window of the Grand Hall with contempt and envy of his eldest son’s Magical Prowess.

“So even from 4,000 miles away you still found a way to spite me”

Lucas breathes out sharply the veins in his forehead bulge and at that moment all the glass in the Great Hall shatters and the marble floor beneath his feet crack open.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less from you”

“LUCIEN”