I thought you were going for a hug.

It’s lonely to be more powerful than any man you know and have to live like a shadow. To be special and have to pretend you’re a fool. I know how it feels, I understand.  (Dependent Merlin RP from BBC's Merlin.)

[merlinemris]

xmanaicxgenius

With his elbow resting on the flat surface of the table, Ed’s eyes expanded as he twitched, noticing a man who appeared to be look like identical to himself. Ed tightly compressed his hues together, counting backwards, in hopes for the figure to disperse from his mind. This had been happening steadily everyday.One would presume he had gone insane,  but Edward believed in scientific solutions or scenarios for all causes, even this. With his hues languidly opening again, the figure remained with a malicious laugh departing their lips. The man gracefully leaned forward, now holding their glance on Ed with their laugh only growing more vigorous.“ Come on, don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten me and all the fun we use to have”  Ed shook his head abruptly in bewilderment. “ No…. your not here.” The words stumbled from his mouth as he placed his palms over his face. Ed  began to shake his head more impetuously; followed  by his fingers running through his burnet hair slowly. “ You don’t really believe that. I made you stronger.” The other spoke  again in a venomous tone. “ This is a projection of sleep  deprivation, your not here !” Ed said out loud in an aggressive tone,  before hearing someone stumble. His hues turned their gaze towards a gauntly man to the side.

“ I’m sorry, what what are we pretending didn’t happen?” Ed asked awkwardly, desperately hoping the other hadn’t seen him arguing with himself. He nipped at his top lip slightly, followed by taking off his glasses and wiping them against the edge of his shirt. “ Did you know the average human body carries ten times more bacterial cells than human cells” The words fell from the brim of his mouth in a proud tone, as Ed placed his  glasses back on his face.  Twitching his nose slightly,  the crook of his mouth stretched into a wide smile. “ Fascinating right.” Eagerness spewing from his voice.  [ He doesn’t care] A voice spat at  him through his mind.The inhumane laugh still hitting his ears. Ed’s smile immediately faded, as his hues dropped. A thin exhale of air slid from between both of his lips. Ed knew that be true. His riddles and detailed facts he held ha always gone unnoticed. In fact,  all of Ed’s  life, he  had felt misplaced and disoriented from the world.

Merlin noticed the other man talking to himself - he wasn’t oblivious. But, out of sheer respect, he left it unsaid and allowed the man to continue what appeared to be a riveting conversation. It would be rude to interrupt him. Plus, Merlin talked to himself a fair amount. It just seemed down right hypocritical to judge the other for it.

It wasn’t until the hint of anxiety, desperation, and, what was that, fear? Yeah, fear. It wasn’t until he heard notes of alarm in the man’s voice that he started to pay more attention. He had this lack of self preservation issue, and that meant if he saw anyone who might need his help, he would be there; damn the consequences. Especially where Arthur was concerned.

He should probably work better on not jumping head first into danger, but then Merlin would have no fun stories to tell and wouldn’t be able to get that joy of disobeying Gaius. Which would always spark childish mischief in Merlin and left him feeling young.

Disobeying Kilgharrah was just a sheer rush if he was being honest.

This wasn’t your average everyday afternoon chit chat with yourself, though. The man was… arguing, fighting, and with each word he seemed to curl tighter into himself; retreating away. It was unnerving. Also worrying, and Merlin wanted to make it better.

Or, he had, until he fell. Because, well, Merlin.

“Exactly! Nothing happened,” He smiled, albeit uncomfortably when he couldn't’ decipher if the other man was kidding or not.

“Did you know the average human body carries ten times more bacterial cells than human cells.”

He looked around him, trying to see if someone else had just walked up behind him and that’s who the fact was spoken to. Because it was a real non sequitur for this situation and Merlin didn’t follow.

“But, the question here, do we also have the means to fight that bacteria? Or is it just sort of floaty in our bodies?”

[merlinemris]

pendragonreborn

When he felt Merlin hug back it was as if everything fell into the place…the king and the lionheart…back again.  He may have no idea what happened or how he can even wake up here…but he can push that aside to be with Merlin.

He doesn’t say anything to him at first.  He can’t for fear this will all disappear around him or he’ll say the wrong thing.  And in this strange place he can’t afford that.  He needs someone he know, someone he recognizes, someone he loves, or else it’ll drive him insane and hurt his already wounded frame.

“Doesn’t matter about me.”  He quickly says when he mentions his hurt.  He honestly was checking Merlin over to see if he’s safe and unharmed.  Even when with a nasty scar he doesn’t know he has yet he will never worry about himself.  

“What about you ?  What is this strange land?  How did we get here ?  How can we go back to Camelot ?”  He asks pulling away to look at him.

Merlin felt like a discarded husk as he wandered the streets of Salem. He didn’t feel right, he couldn’t really explain what was wrong, but he felt like he was perpetually forgetting something. He patted his pockets to check for his house keys enough times to, likely, erode the fabric away leaving a big old denim-bald-spot leading to his bum.

No, this wasn’t a “Did I leave the oven on?” kind of feeling. This was a deep into your core, make you want to collapse kind of wrong. He felt for his magic instinctively, reaching for the warmth that always buzzed so pleasantly through his very being….but when he did, there was nothing.

He blanched, gasping, and without much say in the matter ended up on all fours. How had he not noticed before? There was magic in the air and it wasn’t his own. It felt engraved into the air, sourcing through the town itself. 

And it was.. angry? Something. It was something Merlin really didn’t like. 

He shook the feeling in favor of the man in front of him. The weight of Arthur in his grasp triggered a lot of things for Merlin, but first and foremost, it woke the warlock up to the fact that Arthur was really here.

He was going to be sick. He coughed, nearly vomiting bile, before he leaned heavily back against the door. Merlin looked up, studying the man before him. He knew Arthur was meant to return. Obviously he knew that, he spent ten lifetimes waiting for it. He was old! He got old waiting for this brooding prat of a man to come back him. (He may not look it, but he was coming up on 2000+ years. I know, not a wrinkle in sight!) Despite all that, the reality of having Arthur back in the flesh left him reeling.

He just stared for a moment, taking in all that was his King. Hair still wet and dripping into blue eyes as bright as his own. Speaking of those eyes, they were kind, tired, and almost made Merlin want to vomit again.

Arthur knew. Arthur knew.

What did that mean for them now? Oh gods, Arthur had no idea what the world was know, that Merlin still had to keep his magic secret in an era where witchcraft was myth. He had so much to say, so much to explain, so much to apologize for, to explore with Arthur, to introduce, to do—-and….

“What took you so long?”

[merlinemris]

pendragonreborn

He thought he heard his voice.  Granted he’s been hearing Merlin’s voice since he arrived here but that’s not the point right now.  The point is it’s Merlin’s voice and like a blind man he goes and follows the voice.  

He turns around and there is Merlin.  Funny the voice was a lot closer in his head.  “Merlin !”  He calls and uses the wall to make his way toward his best friend.  His side is on fire and his lungs hurt from being under the water before waking up here, but he ignores that to meet Merlin since it looks like he’s seen a ghost.

Word’s can’t even describe how much missed him.  Sure he’s been dead for centuries but…but it’s when he woke up that he truly felt it.  He just brushed it off as him being in a foreign land with foreign landscape and foreign attire with women showing off ankles.  Now with Merlin here…it feels almost…right.  As if everything was righting itself and they can rule the world together.

Once he manages to finally walk without the wall (though it’s obvious the wall will be needed soon) he engulfs Merlin in a hug.  He will never ever tell Merlin this…but he missed his Merlin

Merlin blinking for awhile, still convinced he must be dreaming. His eyes were playing tricks on him or he was finally off his rocker, because of all the places he had expected to be reunited with his King it wasn’t in America for one, and it definitely wasn’t in the White House.

Everything was ass up. He’d meandered into DC like a firefly to a lightbulb; searching and drawn to a force he didn’t understand. A force that would likely zap him senseless if he got too close. (He was right, by the way, this city felt like spoiled magic. He didn’t know if that could actually happen, but the metaphor seem appropriate so he was sticking to it.)

He was ready to continue chatting to this definitely-not-real Arthur image out of sheer amusement when he caught the King’s pained expression. His face was pinched, shoulders hunched over awkwardly, like he didn’t want to be in that position but his body ached too much for anything else.

Worry struck like an arrow to his heart, overwhelming any other emotions. Fevered dream or not, Arthur needed him. And that was all that mattered.

HIs magic was reaching out to Arthur long before Merlin’s feet started walking. It coddled him and cradled his wounded frame before the warlock’s hands did - a tender embrace, of lost friends, of destinies entwined, of a cabbagehead and his dashingly good looking servant.

He practically pounced on the other man, holding around his shoulders and helping him stay upright.

The shock of it all hadn’t quite caught up to him yet - a half dazed and half protective instinct driven stupor. Arthur was here. Alive. And Merlin was going to process this whole thing better if he kept pretending Arthur was the result of insomnia and jet-lag.

“You’re hurt,” He said simply. Abruptly cut off by the embrace, he didn’t dismiss it, though. Instead he melted into the hug of the other man, his lanky body nustling into the muscular crevices of Arthur’s. “Hello to you too.”

[merlinemris]

Merlin here is back and in the White House for the event! If you’d like to plot with him, just message me. 

[merlinemris]

bruisedwinchester

“EXCUSE ME!” John started as he stopped the other. “By any chance, have you seen my sons? One is about yay high..“ He started, showing some approximate high with his hands.”Light brown-ish hair, green eyes. He’s five. And his brother’s a baby, one year old, dark hair, rainbow-shit eyes I still don’t get what color it is yet?“ He asked before letting out a deep sigh.”They’re driving me mad, they always disappear.“

The first thought Merlin had after a booming “EXCUSE ME!” followed by a rough hand on his shoulder, was that he should really figure out why people yelled at him. He didn’t think he looked particularly...yell-able, but if it wasn’t Gaius, it was Arthur. Mostly Arthur. Basically always Arthur, actually. 

He wondered if it had something to do with his stature. He was lankly, all awkward limbs and gangly parts. Big ears, too.

Whatever the reason, he was being yelled at again. Though, this guy was sending off more Uther vibes than Arthur. 

Which brought him very little comfort.

It wasn’t until he opened his mouth that Merlin suddenly felt like a right arse. This guy’s kids were missing and here he was contemplating his yell-at-me-level. He felt a sharp pang in his gut and was overcome with the need to help him.

He could relate. Arthur was just one big baby who disappeared and shows up the next day thinking he slain the dragon. Pfffffft.

“No, I haven’t,” And Merlin felt really bad that he hadn’t. “I can help you look? Oh, wait, right. Hi! Merlin. Hullo. Merlin, that’s me! Right, you probably got that. Uh, hi.”

[merlinemris]

xmanaicxgenius

With aggressive sounds inching closer, Edward haltingly turned his neck; while noting someone standing adjacent to him. “ The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?” He asked with his words departing from the brim of his mouth. The line of Edward’s lips stretched across as both corners of his mouth coiled into a broad and mischievous smile. The thick frame of his glasses slid down to the crease of his nose. Edward had grown accustomed to being surrounded by ignoramuses, but relished in the notion of someone intellectually balanced to him; much like his former best friend he had little to no memory of. Lifting his right hand, Edward pushed his glasses up to rim of his nose.

For several days counting,his mind seemed muddled, as if he were missing immense pieces, like a riddle that had gone unsolved. Soft blows of air lightly hit his cheek. Noticing a free seat, Edward left the other behind and shuffled his feet closer towards the booth that rested near the door. His tall frame perched down. A meager breath of air departed, as Edward  leaned back against the top rail. He waited long minutes for the waitress to approach. She  passed him several times. [Your a freak.]   Confusingly he heard  hardened words escaped. Edward swiftly turned his neck around with his eyed widened, seeing The Riddler, sitting across from him. He shook his head in disapproval. “ No, I’m not, take that back” The words fell distressfully from the brim of his mouth.

Arthur had assigned Merlin to return his classics books to the library. Presumably so no one would know Arthur took said classes, but Merlin just thought he was being lazy. So after he dumped the books off and waved to the librarian (who always, always, felt the need to tell him to eat more), he wandered to the back of the building. He found the silence comforting and relished in the reprieve from doing chores for Arthur. Even though he always got yelled at for stalling - Arthur’s anger-red face was worth it.

Merlin loved being around books. That near bitter smell of old paper, wrinkled and aged so when you ran your finger over the words, it would crinkle and leave little goosebumps. Libraries smelled distinctly of Gaius and he attributed his modern love of libraries to pure nostalgia. The spell book his mentor had gifted him, so long ago now, still sat in his closet. (Top shelf, toward the right, where sunlight couldn’t catch it and bleach the pages.)

He’s not sure how long he spent wandering the empty stacks, but judging by the growl of his stomach, it had been a few hours. He knew he should be getting back to Arthur - it unnerved the warlock to leave him alone for too long. Nursing a centuries old wound and bringing a whole new meaning to culture shock. But, he also had no food in his house. He’d given Arthur everything he had without a thought - Arthur came first; he always would.

He’d already been gone so long, and Arthur had been sleeping when he left, that he figured another hour or so couldn’t hurt. Then again, knowing his luck, it would hurt. A lot. Probably in the form of Arthur throwing something at his head.

He’ll just bring food to cushion the anger. Yeah, good plan.

He shuffled to the diner across the street and stopped before he stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the side of the closest booth. He’d been doing so well! He’d only tripped once that day and was going to give himself a celebratory piece of cake for his efforts. Thwarted again!

“If I back up thru the door and walk in again, can we pretend that didn’t just happen?”

[merlinemris]

pendragonreborn

“Merlin !”  He calls for him as he roams around, stumbling and pushing past people looking for him.  He woke up in this weird place and he needs Merlin.  He needs someone familiar and all he can think about was Merlin if he was here and if he is okay.  “Merlin !”  He calls again stumbling until he can’t anymore and ends up leaning against a wall, out of pain.

If getting lost were an Olympic sport, Merlin would be a shoo-in for Tokyo. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have strayed from the White House tour, but could it even be called straying if the group had left him behind? It hadn’t taken long for Merlin to learn that practically everyone here was part of some sort of legacy, it’s like a monarchy of some kind. Merlin, like always, found himself on the bottom. Which is why when he started wandering the Library, he went unnoticed and unmissed, and the group moved on to tour the Oval Office, sans one member.

He was sort of giddy with amusement at the whole thing. He’d been alive for centuries, and of course had been to America plenty (he even road over on the Mayflower to see what all the fuss was about), but he hadn’t been to DC yet. Which is why, obviously, his first stop was a tour of the White House. 

He’ll admit, though, he found himself preferring Camelot.

With a sigh, he wandered through the corridors. Having absolutely no idea where he was going. He’d found a total of six male restrooms (that all looked identical, but Merlin refused to believe he’d been passing the same bathroom six times), a lounge, and some sort of empty ballroom. “Right, this is going well,” He mused aloud to no one in particular.

If you asked Merlin how he ended up right outside the Situation Room, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. Call it sheer dumb luck, or maybe Merlin’s magic had pulled him toward the figure leaning heavily against the doorframe. Wait--was someone calling his name?

His magic lapped over the man like the ocean after a drought; thirsty and desperate. Merlin, himself, was slower on the uptake. 

He was tired, apparently. He had to be, because that was the only explanation for how Arthur Pendragon could be standing in the bloody White House.

“Huh, Gaius was right. Never eat rabbit before bed.”

[merlinemris]

“Oh, what’s that wilddeoren eating? It’s alright, it’s just Merlin!”

Was that COLIN MORGAN? Oh no no, that was just MERLIN, a CANON CHARACTER from BBC MERLIN. They are 26 years old and ARE aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

How long has your character been here?: A little over a year.

What is your character’s job?: He’d like to be a librarian, but being Arthur’s babysitter is a full-time gig.

Where has your character been pulled from in their fandom?: Merlin takes place after the finale - so everything from the show applies to him. He’s immortal, so he’s literally been alive since the finale.

Has any magic affected your character?: I mean----he’s Merlin.

[merlinemris]

I’ve moved to @hiddenwashington. Anything below this post is from that group. However! If you’re with HW now and would like to continue where you may have left off with Merlin, that’s perfectly fine! xo

Please excuse the mess while I clean up Merlin and Sam’s blogs, write up their introduction, and then reply to some starters!

[merlinemris]

pendragon-reborn

He groans.  “Are you still on that Merlin ?  It was one time and a long time ago.”  He huffs looking at the mirror again.  It at least covered himself up.  

His stomach growls and a hand goes to it.  For being dead for so long who knew it can bring stomach growls too.   Well that ruined whatever he was about to say and think.  

“Are you still on that...” He muttered in a mock tone, scrunching up his face to make a caricature of Arthur’s.

Merlin nearly snorted when Arthur’s stomach growled. 10+ years of being together virtually 24/7 and it still never seized to be amusing when Arthur made any sort of bodily function.

“Okay, pants, then soup,” He held up the pair of loose fitting jeans, hoping beyond hope that they’d fit him. The warlock wasn’t keen on leaving Arthur alone again, especially while conscious, but if he had to go and buy the bloody King clothes - he would. 

[merlinemris]

I just realized that we have someone in the group playing Negan from The Walking Dead..... and...... that’s John Winchester. 

@wtfxnegan @d-winchestcr

[merlinemris]

pendragon-reborn

“Dont get used to it Merlin.” He says and fixes his shirt to fit him better.

He wants to wipe that melodic tone right off of his face but the way he said it…God it puts shivers down his spine. He wants to hear more of it, wants to make fun of it, wants to taste it on his own tongue and disappear in it.

The when and the where of when this revelation is unknown to him; it could have been after the many times they saved each other and slowly became realized when he was here, or it could have been literally when he was dying in Merlin’s arms and he just mouthed the words I love you. What is known to him is the why.

It was the same why that drove him to save him so many times; it’s the same why that missed him when he got rid of him, that made him save Merlin’s village and that drove him to Merlin all this time. . The why is because it was meant to be.

Arthur was born of magic. Magic may not run through his veins but it’s been weaved into the tapistey if his life since the beginning. Magic is a part of him in a different way than it does Merlin and whatever magic is woven into him, it matches with Merlin’s magic like a lock does with a key or an arrows fits to a bow.

“Royalty ? I look like a bloody jester.” He says as he just picks at his shirt, still pantless but not caring.

Merlin didn’t really like to talk about himself, let alone how he may or may not feel about Arthur. Especially about Arthur, actually. Listening to other people vent, whine, and all together complain was something the warlock was no stranger to – he enjoyed it and the sense of loyalty and camaraderie that accompanied it. Except for Arthur (again), who claimed Merlin was the one who complained too much, but the blond is the one who makes a fuss when he gets rabbit instead of venison. (Which, by the way, is apparently always Merlin’s fault. Despite the fact that nearly 20 years in Camelot and not once has he ever worked in the kitchens.)

That was a lie, of course.

Not about the kitchens. He had literally no say in what that prat had for supper, thank you very much.

Day or night, Merlin would listen to Arthur. Listen to him groan about papers to sign, treaties to forge, or huff in contempt if Merlin called him fat. He had come to feel a sense of honor when Arthur trusted his council. In his darkest moments, he turned to Merlin. When he was unsure and confused, he turned to Merlin. When the burden of being King felt like suffocating and was like the green blinding of stepping into a dark room after being in the sun… he turned to Merlin. And Merlin, in turn, always turned to Arthur.

But there was absolutely no way Merlin was going to tell Arthur that. He suspected the regent already knew, nonetheless; an unspoken understanding between the two men.

And now Merlin was uncomfortable. And only Merlin would somehow make himself uncomfortable in his own bloody head.

“Better than a feather hat, though, don’t you think?” Muhahaha. Sweet payback for the stupid ‘ancient serving attire’ he had been forced to wear to that banquet. The one where Merlin almost died by drinking poison he thought was intended for Arthur but was really intended for him all along. Confusing, I know. 

He had almost died dressed like a peacock!

[merlinemris]

thefunpotterchild

He breaths in heavy as he leans forward doing what Merlin asked. His body is aching worse than getting hit by a truck; he rather get hit by a truck than be a mess in front of him.

Everything is bleeding and dripping on poor Merlin. Why can’t Merlin just leave him to bleed out and suffer. He almost hurt him so many times and he doesn’t deserve the help. Even today there’s a stigma on werewolves that he can’t help thinking negatively, at least for a few days

“I-I almost…hurt you.” He can’t not talk or else the pain will hit him harder. He needs a distraction. “A-also bleeding o-on your cute cl-clothes.” He says with a weak smile and blood mixed with tears running down his face.

As much as he tries to be this strong and confident always, he’s so pained and bleeding and broken he can’t stop the tears. Can’t stop the pained breaths. Can’t stop the thought and need for Merlin to leave him here.

“J-just. .v just leave me here.” He says, extremely tired then he was before.

Merlin barely noticed the blood. The scent was familiar and almost sing-song sweet like candy, but bitter and metallic like coffee. He was no stranger to moping blood - wether it was his own or not. He had sewn Knights back together again - talk about being Humpty Dumpty and the King’s men - he had assisted Gaius in the field, and he had stumbled back to the citadel trailing behind his own life liquid.

He had nearly forgotten the smell of blood. He had spent so many years away from war. But like riding a bike, once blood permeated the air and mingled into your nostrils, it all comes back to you.

As was the case now. As Merlin wrapped as much of his clothing as he could spare around the leaking wounds littering James’ body. He was down to nothing but a threadbare tunic, the ends frayed and torn as he ripped the hem to make bandages, a pair of now eerily brown-red colored jeans and shoes with no socks. Every article of fabric he could spare, he did, applying pressure to every inch of James’ mangled frame.

Merlin had never been good at healing spells. A bummer, really, because although he could magic you out of a few pounds in billards, he couldn’t for the life of him mend a broken bone. Plus, there was the whole “balance” thing he had to worry about, and taking this pain from James might bring worse to someone else. Merlin could never do that, not on good conscience. 

He held the boy firmly against him. His arms, legs, hip, forearms, shoulders, damn, his chest were pressed against James in an attempt to turn himself into a human pressure bandage.

“Ah, but you didn’t, so good job on your part,” He spared a glance down at his clothes. Blood was a hard stain to remove. Unless of course you were Merlin and had, you know, the entire world’s worth of magic at your disposal. “Don’t worry about it, James. Magic, remember?”

“Not gonna happen, I’m staying here until you can stand without pitching over.”

[black-doe]

— you can love him, but you can’t keep him ( j.p. )

[merlinemris]

@pendragon-reborn

[merlinemris]

pendragon-reborn

“All right all right fine ! I’ll wear the bloody tunic.” He says and takes it. At this point he can wear a bag so long as it hides his stomach.

He puts it on and looks down at it, ready to want to stay shirtless. “Merlin it’s…Merlin what is this shirt called ?” He still can’t get over the shirt. It was much better to dress him when he was acting like a simpleton

“Knew you’d see it my way,” He grinned triumphantly. Equally elated by the fact that one, Arthur was going to look like a idiot. Two, Merlin won. 

“It’s fit for royalty, sire. Anyone who sees you in this will instantly know you’re King. Trust me.” 

There was a perfume on his tongue; sickly sweet and floral, but oddly addictive. He wanted more of the sensation, more of the thing that was almost like a sensual touch in his mouth. 

He missed the way his magic blended into Arthur in the simplest of perfections when they were together. The magic would spiral and whirl as tantalizingly as the cosmos. We tasted the stars, Arthur. 

They let the drips of galactic fire dance across their tongues, creating the rarest but most genuine form of song. They match. Yet, wen he was swimming with those very same stars, Merlin had selfishly wanted him to come back to Earth.

He felt jovial, then. In a quiet reprieve from the emotional turmoil the past week had brought them both. He just wanted Arthur; just wanted to joke, insult, and exist alongside his King. 

That was it. 

[merlinemris]

kavnas

loki isn’t usually one for doing laundry, preferring to use magic to clean her clothes.  but something in this town seems to be interfering with her powers, and so here she is, frown on her face, dragging her clothes to a laundromat.

at least here she’d get to hopefully meet some of the other residents - begin to get to know her neighbors.  that thought puts a smile on her face, and she briefly entertains the idea of throwing a party in her apartment, even though the last time she’d tried that, back in new york, the all-mother had ruined her carpet and the party.

okay, so maybe a party isn’t the best idea, but that doesn’t mean she can’t make friends at all.

she steps into the laundromat, determination written all across her face.  there’s a single bag of laundry slung over the goddess’s shoulder, and upon catching sight of the single other person in the laundromat, she saunters over.

“bit of a lousy and inefficient way to do this, don’t you think?” she asks without preamble as she drops her bag to floor.

It was all going swimmingly until Merlin’s carefully crafted laundry-meditation was disrupted when a…well, lovely, girl walked in.

She was slender in build, but in a very attractive way. No where near his awkward and gangly frame. Her skin almost a sweet pallor and her kind eyes matched. He smiled at her and returned to the task at hand.

They worked in comfortable silence for awhile, until he caught her looking at him. (It seemed only fair, considering he kept sparing glances in her direction too.)

“Bit of a lousy and inefficient way to do this, don’t you think?”

Merlin laughed, extending his hand. “Definitely lousy. And complicated. I’m Merlin. Oh! Heavy. It’s heavy, too.” He pitched his head toward his own bag of clothing, as well as Arthur’s.

[merlinemris]

thefunpotterchild

He gets up and howls, lashing at the fire, lashing at himself, lashing at everything he can.  He would jump but feeling the fire on his paw he knew the opportunity to attack him was futile so he turned on himself.  

That’s all he can do. Howl in pain, lash out, repeat. IT’s all engrained in him to do.   Howl, lash out repeat, how lash repeat, how lash repeat.  

This whole process of attacking himself and the fire lasts until the moon disappears, then howls of pain turn into screams.  Human screams of deep unbridled pain replace the howls as he bone crack and break and contort into his human self.

He’s on the ground now, curled up in a ball in the middle of the now dead fire ring.  His body is littered with gashes and burns from hurting himself and trying to get out of the fire.  He’s barely conscious but he’s conscious enough to sense Merlin’s still there.

“S-sor…ry.”  He gritted out, trying to crawl away from the wizard but has no energy to even move.    If he had a friend in Merlin, he realizes it’s quickly gone.

Merlin couldn’t help the little shivers of fear that fell down his spine. It made the hair on his forearms stand on end, erect, and goosebumps form over the entirety of the limbs. He hated this. A lot. 

He was tempted, after a particularly violent scream from James, to remove the fire and let the boy attack him instead. While he wasn’t really in the mood to bleed out tonight, it was preferable to watching James tear himself apart - right in front of him.

He stood stoic for a few more minutes, that felt like hours, before his resolve broke. He lifted his hand to put out the fire, letting this boy, this child, be free from the self inflicted wound and turn them onto Merlin.

The silver glow of the full moon faltered before disappearing completely. And Merlin knew he was too late. Fool. 

As soon as he was able, he sped to James, wanting to reach out but finding there wasn’t any where he could touch. Blood marred every inch of his skin, a macabre mosaic. He took off his jacket and with feather light movements rested it on the boy’s shoulders.

He pushed back James’ fringe. “No, hey, hey, none of that. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Next, he deposited his neckerchief, moving to wrap that like a tourniquet around a nasty slash in his leg. Lean forward for me. Good-good-good, like that. You’re okay, James.”