Vol 2. Chapter 17. Dreamland.

Today was a day of celebration.

Today would mark the start of Arthur's fall from grace, and in turn would mark the start of my succession to the throne.

Closing my eyes, I leaned into the cushioned carriage seat, with a soft smile on my face.

I rhythmically tapped my fingers on a small chest, next to my seat.

Inside was an expanded space, with one Saxon man, two vials of a most potent aphrodisiac and a fertility potion.

My plan was simple.

Slip Arthur the drugs, shove her into a room with the Saxon, and let nature take its course.

Naturally, I'd be kind enough to wipe both parties of the memory, after all, I'd feel bad for the Saxon if he was forced to remember such a thing.

And in three or more months, when the pregnancy becomes obvious, things would become clear to all.

And as long as I implant a suggestion in her to keep the baby, then all will fall into place.

The king is a liar! A woman in men's clothing!

King Leodegrance will be furious at Arthur for disgracing his daughter to a false, loveless marriage, and will probably stop aiding Arthur and withdraw support.

The icing on the cake will be when the child is born, and when he clearly shows Saxon ancestry, her reputation will fall even further.

All that will be needed is for me to cash in some favors, spread some rumors, and then the people will be asking why the second born daughter of Uther, instead of the popular first born daughter, who is loved by her fief, is 'king' of Britain.

So, nine months to a year will be all I need to ascend.

And this is all thanks to Arthur being kind enough to invite me to his wedding.

Smiling to myself, I felt my 'anti-scrying' field start to encroach onto Camelot, meaning that it was time for me to move.

I had started using a massive anti-scrying bounded field, in an attempt at blinding Merlin of my movements, and I might have gone a bit overboard, as it blocks out rightly a bit over one League in diameter, while using me as the center point.

But right now, I had no interest in being the center point, as it would give away my location, as Merlin would instantly know that I was in Camelot, if the city became the center of his 'blind-spot'.

At the thought, my shadow grew, and a large gem floated out from it.

Grabbing the gem, I watched as Fay-Runes started etching themselves on it, before a new bounded field sprung out from it.

Giving the anchor stone a once over, I felt satisfied.

It would work for now, but it would break within an hour, meaning that I needed to hurry on over.

Sinking into my shadow, I moved to the coachman's seat, before poking my head out.

"Increase our speed," I ordered the homunculus. "We must reach Camelot without delay, but take care not to jostle the cargo."

The puppet gave a mechanical nod, before turning to look at me. "Yes, Lady Morgan," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

I felt my mouth twitch at the tone it used, before I sank into the shadows once more. The driver was a failure, but at least it was capable of following simple commands.

Moving through the world of black and gray, I made incredible headway, as I swiftly headed towards Camelot.

As I neared Camelot, the towering walls and gleaming spires came into view, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun.

The city was alive with celebration. Banners bearing the royal crest fluttered in the breeze, and the distant sounds of music and laughter reached my ears.

How quaint…

Merchants hawked their wares to eager patrons, children darted between crowds, and nobles paraded in their finest attire.

The air was thick with anticipation for the forthcoming nuptials.

Gliding past the guards at the city gates was effortless. Their gazes passed over me without recognition, which was understandable, as who would expect someone in their shadow?

Slipping past them, I entered the castle, which prompted the next problem.

I had no idea where Arthur would be, nor did I have a full layout of the castle's schematics, as they changed engineers last second, ruining my chance of having a hand in constructing it.

Spreading my senses, I tried to look for Arthur, or hopefully find out where he was.

Inside, the corridors bustled with activity.

Servants scurried about, tending to last-minute preparations. The aroma of fresh blooms and rich spices filled the air.

Frowning, I continued expanding my senses, until I felt someone familiar.

Smiling to myself, I silently made my way through the halls, and met with a familiar sight.

My dear, ungrateful, backstabbing son, Gawain… I had spent years nurturing his skills by throwing him at beasts and bandits, all while crafting him the pinnacle of this age's armor… yet he refuses to relay any information to me…

Though I guess it is to be expected of a bastard. No manners, no sense of appreciation nor loyalty.

Thankfully he has such a good younger brother in Agravain. As he makes up for his older brothers' many shortcomings.

Silently, I moved into his shadow, content to follow him.

Gawain was clearly in a hurry, as he strode with purpose, swiftly making his way through the castle.

He moved up a few floors, before stopping in front of two large double doors.

Gawain stopped for a moment, adjusting his mantle, while trying his best to make himself look presentable.

Taking in a deep breath, he pushed open the door, revealing a conference room with a large circular table, with two other occupants in the room, Merlin and Arthur.

Gawain smoothly fell into a respectful kneel.

"Sir Gawain," Arthur acknowledged, her voice steady.

Gawain bowed his head. "Your Majesty, how may I serve?"

At his question, Arthur glanced at the filthy incubus, who gave a small nod.

Merlin stepped forward, his gaze fixed upon Gawain. "Lady Morgan is due to arrive shortly. We would ask that you greet her upon her arrival and accompany her throughout the festivities," he said with an easy smile.

At the mention of my name, a subtle shiver coursed through Gawain.

How… disappointing. I had trained him against phantasmal beasts, and forced him to fight for his life against terrifying monsters, yet he buckled at the mere sound of my name…

I had clearly failed…

Perhaps I should recall Gareth from her squireship under Arthur's newest knight. I couldn't have my 'children' be soft, could I? And seeing as she was the youngest, she clearly needed my guidance the most.

He replied without hesitation, before standing up. "As you command."

As Gawain departed, I remained, ready to do some information gathering.

Merlin's gaze lingered on the closed doors before turning to Arthur.

"You seem troubled," Arthur observed.

"It's Morgan," Merlin admitted, his fake slipping ever so slightly.

"I did not expect her to actually come, and I was hoping that she'd just burn the invitation," he further explained.

I felt a bit miffed at the comment, as the invitation was given through word of mouth by a messenger, so the implication that I'd burn him was a bit annoying, but the incubus was not known for his common sense.

Arthur tilted her head in confusion, while eyeing Merlin. "You seem rather... cautious about Morgan's visit."

Shaking his head, Merlin gave a dramatic sigh. "Cautious, yes, but wary would be more accurate."

"I have known her since she was young, and I can tell you with certainty that something is wrong with her, which is partly why Uther didn't pass down the throne to her [Lies]," he lied with a straight face.

Taking in a deep breath, he fixed a serious look onto Arthur. "I just fear her reason for being here is to besmirch or ruin your reputation," he explained harshly.

Arthur seemed taken aback by the comment and shook her head. "You yourself should know how supportive she has been regarding my reign, as she has sent her children to become my knights, and has even provided us with financial aid," she rebuked, only for Merlin to shake his head.

"Her children are mere pawns for her, and I'm sure she's trying to get information through them. And for the aid she provided, if she truly cared, that she wouldn't have spread the news that it was her, the kind Queen Morgan, who saved the peasants from famine," Merlin countered, before sighing.

"If she cared, then she'd have all those nobles she has in her pocket start supporting us, and stop them from making our life difficult with their high embargoes and somewhat hostile stance on your kingdom," Merlin explained softly.

Hearing the bastard's words, I furrowed my brows. Clearly those useless nobles were a bit too loud mouthed for their own good…

I'll have to ramp up my homunculus research, and start replacing the more expendable ones with more well behaved puppets, after all, this spreading of information was unacceptable.

Arthur stared at his court mage with furrowed brows, as she griped about the things he had said about her sister.

"I will keep an eye out, but I am unwilling to judge her unfairly before meeting her properly at my wedding," she said with an air of finality.

Merlin gave one of his fake smiles, before giving a shrug. "That is all I can ask for."

Before the conversation could continue, Merlin's demeanor shifted abruptly. "But enough of that. There's a more pressing matter at hand." He approached Arthur, a hint of mischief returning to his eyes. "I have a gift for you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "A gift?"

"Indeed." Merlin tapped his staff lightly against her chest. A soft pink glow enveloped her momentarily, shimmering before fading away.

Arthur inhaled sharply, an uncharacteristic display of surprise crossing her features. Her gaze dropped briefly, a flush creeping up her neck. "What have you done?" she asked, a mixture of awe and bewilderment in her voice.

"Consider it a means to secure an heir," Merlin replied mischievously. "A temporary adjustment, if you will," he accentuated his comment with a wink.

…What?

Arthur seemed fixed on her lower half, and I instinctively knew what the perverted magus had done.

Only a filthy incubus would give someone male genitalia as a wedding gift…

And of course, it just had to coincidently ruin my plans!

I shouldn't be too hard on myself, as merely imagining such a gift was absurd, even for Merlin's standards.

Arthur seemed to have finally snapped out of her daze, and stepped closer to Merlin and grabbed him by his collar. "You— you… What have you done?!" She screeched, while shaking the insufferable incubus, who merely laughed.

"Come now, I'm fairly sure you know," he said with amusement as he was furiously shaken by his student.

As she was shaking him, Merlin's body started to fall apart, turning into pink flower petals. "I will see you tomorrow, Arthur. Do try to enjoy yourself with your new anatomy," he teased before vanishing from sight.

"MERLIN!!!" Arthur screeched.

I felt a smile tug on my face at the sight.

As much as I hated him, at least he was tormenting Arthur in my place, though I needed someone to do the same to him.

Feeling that I had learnt all that I could from this room, I swiftly jumped from shadow to shadow, and retreated to my carriage, which I felt was nearing the city gates.

Silently entering my carriage, I picked up the gem acting as an anchor point, and shifted the field to use me as its anchor point.

As that happened, the gem cracked, before suddenly crumbling in my hand.

Pursing my lips, I disgraded the remnants of the gem, before leaning into the plush seat of the carriage.

Seeing that I had a little time left, I quickly thought through some other method of getting what I wanted from this wedding… as I should still have a few avenues of attacks, seeing as I am this close…

After another few minutes, the carriage slowed down as we were pulled into the city.

It would seem that the guards had been given information on how the carriage looked, allowing me to not be stopped by the guards for a checkup.

How considerate.

It only took another few minutes before it came to a full stop, in front of the castle walls.

Knowing that it was time to leave, I opened the chest, and pulled out the three vials, and stored them into my shadow.

I gave the bound Saxon at the bottom of the chest a cursory glance, before closing the chest.

I'd need to find some use for him later… perhaps he would do well as raw materials for my next homunculus…

A polite knock echoed on the carriage door, drawing me out of my musings, before it was opened, revealing Gawain standing in front of the carriage, with a gauntleted hand outstretched.

Slightly tilting my head to glance at him, I smoothly stood up, and stepped out of the carriage, while politely grabbing his hand.

"Gawain," I greeted neutrally, while idly doing a once over on his attire.

Armor… for a wedding reception… and here I thought I raised him better.

"Mother," he stiffly greeted back, before retracting his hand.

I ignored his lacking manners and fixed him with a look. "Would you be so kind as to guide me to the festivities?" I asked politely.

Gawain only gave a stiff nod, before turning around and walking away.

Frowning at the lack of proper decorum, I could only sigh, seeing as my lessons in etiquette had clearly been forgotten in his childish galavanting with his fellow knights.

Following him, I was led into a large hall, filled with nobles or influential merchants.

Gawain gave a small bow, before moving over to a corner of the hall, perfectly positioned to watch over anyone in the venue.

Smiling to myself, I did what I did best, gathering useful tools.

And like clockwork, for the next two hours, I glided around the hall, interjecting myself with many guests, and noted down a few gullible and useful tools that I could put to a better use.

I myself, and a few others, stayed here instead of participating in the ceremony.

Most, like myself, used the fact that the church was a tad too small to host all of us, so we would stay in the venue to make room for others.

This went on for another hour or so, before the doors opened, revealing the happy couple.

Arthur was wearing a small crown, and a royale blue mantle, with a brown haired woman on her arm.

She had green eyes, similar to her 'husband', and had long brown hair. She wore a white wedding veil, along with a green dress with yellow highlights.

Overall, a very beautiful woman. 

The room's occupants gave a shallow bow when they entered, as a show of respect, which I begrudgingly mirrored, so as to not draw any attention.

Seeing them move around the room, politicking just as I had done earlier, I decided to slip away, while Gawain wasn't paying attention, and hide just out of sight of the newlyweds, as I had no intention of interacting with them yet.

Soon, drinks were brought in, and tables were set with food, allowing anyone who was hungry to sit where they wanted to and have a bite.

The next few hours were tedious, as I hopped in and out of sight, while talking to those I noted as important, while staying out of sight.

And as day turned to night, I felt it time for me to finally… 'introduce' myself to Arthur.

Reappearing next to king Leodegrance, I watched him jump at my sudden intrusion into his personal space.

Snapping my fingers, his eyes clouded over. Leaning in, I whispered into his ear to call over a waiter, and tell him to hand a glass of wine to Arthur, as a show of friendship and their houses uniting as one.

Moving away, I watched as the man dazedly waved over a waiter, and whispered my order into his ear.

And while he was distracted, I pulled the aphrodisiac out from my shadow, and spiked the drink with it.

The waiter nodded, and swiftly made his way towards Arthur.

I watched on as Arthur picked up the cup, and raised it in Leodegrance's direction. The king mirrored his 'son' in law's action, before the two simultaneously downed the drink.

The sight made me give a wide, happy smile.

I watched with bated breath, as over the next couple of minutes, Arthur's face became progressively more red, and her body language became more uncomfortable.

It only took thirty minutes, until she silently left the room, with Guinevere worriedly following her in toe.

Silently, I sank into the shadows, unnoticed by anyone, as I quickly followed the lovely couple.

They almost ran through the hallways, and rushed up a few flights of stairs, before landing in front of Arthur's room.

Arthur was now clearly panting, her eyes glazed, almost looking like a wild beast.

She swung open the door to her room, and rushed inside.

Guinevere glanced at the sight with some hesitation, and was about to reach out, which I naturally couldn't allow.

Silently, I came out from her own shadow, and towered over her from behind.

"Shhh…." I whispered, before snapping my finger beside her ear.

Guinevere stood no chance, and promptly collapsed.

Not wishing her to make any sound, I allowed her to fall into my shadow, which swallowed her up for 'sake-keeping' for the night.

As she vanished, another vail floated out from my shadow, before falling into my hand.

The bottle of fertility…

What I was about to do was disgusting… not something I even wanted to do, but time was of the essence.

If I had proper time, I would have found some other woman with green eyes and blonde hair to act as my substitute, as I'd rather not go through with this…

I'd rather gain the throne myself, but having a child warming the seat for me was a decent workaround… and something I could cope with.

Glancing down at the bottle, I felt my grip tighten on it, before flicking off the cap.

I would be wiping Arthur and Guinevere's memory of this night, implanting something more fitting… But God if I wasn't tempted to whip my own memory of what I was about to do…

Knowing that I didn't have time to hesitate, I placed an illusion over myself, turning me into a carbon copy of Guinevere, appearance wise.

Naturally, Arthur should be able to tell that I was taller and had different proportions than Guinevere, but with the aphrodisiac messing up her mind, I'd be fine.

Placing the bottle up to my lips, I drained its constance in one gulp, before discarding the bottle.

Taking in a deep breath, I took a step into Arthurs room.

It was time to put my plan into action.

~~Fate/False Order~~

Groggily, I opened my eyes.

I was cold.

Glancing down, I saw that the only part of my body covered by the duvet was my left leg.

Automatically, I threw my left arm to the side, found the duvet, and pulled it towards me.

My action was met with surprising resistance, as the blanket didn't move.

After tugging for another second, something clicked, and my head snapped to the side.

I was met with the sight of my duvet having been transformed into a makeshift cocoon, with white hair sprawling out of it.

I instantly pushed myself up into a sitting position, while glancing at the 'cocoon', which was taking in slow and steady breaths, clearly still sleeping.

Morgan being in my bed was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one at that.

My thoughts hoved over what I had just seen in the dream, causing me to think over the situation I was in…

Clearly nothing had happened, as I was wearing my pajamas, and the last thing I recall of last night was Morgan saying that she was going to try something out later…

What that was, I don't know, but she might have meant sleeping, as I'm fairly sure that she hasn't slept since I summoned her.

Well shit…

Damn that makes me feel like a slave driver… Something I'm sure my ancestors would approve of, but I digress.

Silently, I shuffled out of bed, and grabbed something to wear.

I might as well prepare, aka buy, some breakfast for her, and give her breakfast in bed, as I'm sure that's something girls like… not sure though…

Walking out of the room, I gently closed the door behind me, before heading for the bathroom.

The only problem was what to buy… eating Sushi for breakfast was probably not something I should do for a third day in a row, but I am rather unsure of where I can buy breakfast at…

I quickly checked my watch, and damn it was late, 10 O'clock already.

Brunch should be easier to buy… and I'm sure she'd appreciate it.

~~Fate/False Order~~

The sun was a merciless bastard, beating down on us with an intensity that made the air shimmer like a mirage.

Sweat trickled down my face, stinging my eyes as I squinted across the endless expanse of desert.

The sandbags in front of us offered scant protection, but they were all we had between life and a hail of enemy bullets.

"William, keep those ammo packs ready!" Grayson's voice cut through the cacophony of gunfire and distant explosions.

He was crouched beside me, his finger rapidly tapping the LMG's trigger as he laid down bursts of suppressive fire.

"Got it, Sergeant!" I shouted back, wiping the sweat from my brow with a grimy sleeve.

To my left, Callum was peering through his binoculars, his red hair sticking out from under his helmet like a damned beacon.

"They're flankin' us on the right!" he yelled, his thick accent making the words sound come across as a growl. "Bloody bastards think they can outsmart us!"

"Oliver, get HQ on the horn!" Grayson ordered, not taking his eyes off the enemy position. "Tell them we need reinforcements, now!"

Oliver fumbled with the radio, his hands shaking. "Trying, Sergeant! Signal's weak out here!"

"Well, try harder!" Grayson snapped.

I grabbed another ammo pack, my fingers trembling slightly.

The constant rattle of gunfire was deafening, each crack and pop sending a jolt through my nerves.

I glanced at Grayson, his face set in a hard scowl.

"Prepare to reload!" he barked.

"Ready!" I replied, positioning myself beside him. The LMG sputtered, the barrel smoking from the relentless firing.

"Click!" Grayson shouted, the weapon empty.

In a practiced motion, I flipped open the top cover, yanked out the spent ammo box, and slammed a new one into place. Feeding the belt into the receiver, I snapped the cover shut. "Reloaded!"

Grayson pulled back the charging handle, chambering a round. "Covering fire!" he yelled, resuming his deadly rhythm.

"Marcel!" I shouted over the din. "Keep that bazooka ready! We might need to blast those sons of bitches back to hell!"

"Oui, mon ami!" Marcel replied in French, apparently he was still unable to speak English, like a civilized man.

He gripped the bazooka as if it was his ticket out of here, and to be fair, it probably was.

A sudden shattering sound snapped my attention back to Grayson. The LMG's scope exploded in a spray of glass and metal. Grayson's head jerked back, and he slumped against the sandbags.

"Grayson!" I yelled, grabbing his shoulder. His eyes stared blankly, a crimson stream trickling down his face. "Fuck!"

"Sniper!" I roared, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. "Take cover!"

The squad scrambled, pressing themselves against the sandbags. My mind raced. We were sitting ducks out here.

"Callum!" I barked. "Find that bastard! Check the dilapidated buildings at our three o'clock!"

"Aye!" he shouted back, raising his binoculars despite the danger. "I'll spot the wee bastard!"

I pulled Grayson's limp body away from the LMG, gritting my teeth. There was no time to check if he was alive—we had to act fast. Slinging the LMG into position, I noticed the mangled scope.

"Dammit!" I hissed. Pulling out my pistol, I slammed the butt against the broken scope, knocking it off. Holstering my pistol, I flipped up the iron sights, adjusting them for 400 meters.

"Oliver!" I shouted. "Tell HQ we've lost Grayson! They need to get their asses here, now!"

"On it!" Oliver replied, his voice shaking as he relayed the message.

I squeezed the trigger, sending a burst of fire toward the enemy lines. The LMG kicked fiercely against my shoulder, but the familiar recoil felt numb, probably due to adrenaline, or something like that.

"Marcel!" I yelled. "Get ready to take out that sniper! Follow Callum's directions!"

"Understood!" Marcel moved into position, hefting the bazooka onto his shoulder.

"William!" Callum shouted. "I see a glint—third floor window of the leftmost building!"

"You sure?" I called back.

"As sure as I'll ever be with a bullet up my arse!" he retorted.

"Marcel, you got that?" I asked.

"Oui! Adjusting aim!" Marcel replied, his eye pressed against the sight.

I continued firing in bursts, as I needed to keep the enemy pinned, even if I became a prime target for the enemy sniper.

The sandbag beside me exploded, sand spraying into my face.

"Shit!" I ducked instinctively. My heart pounded in my ears, every sense heightened.

"Anytime now, Marcel!" I yelled.

"Almost there..." Marcel muttered.

"Come on, come on..." I whispered, wiping away the sand from my face, before squeezing off another burst.

"Firing!" Marcel announced.

The whoosh of the rocket was followed by a tense silence. All eyes watched as it streaked toward the building. Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into an eternity.

The explosion was deafening. The building erupted in a cloud of dust and debris, chunks of concrete and metal raining down.

"Direct hit!" Callum cheered, a rare grin spreading across his face.

A moment of stunned silence followed. Then, as if in disbelief, sporadic cheers erupted among us.

"Good shot, Marcel!" I shouted.

"Merci!" he replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

"Oliver!" I called out. "Any word from HQ?"

He pressed his hand against his earpiece, straining to hear. "They say reinforcements are five minutes out!"

"Five minutes? Might as well be an eternity," Callum muttered.

"We'll hold," I said firmly. "We have to."

~~Fate/False Order~~

A calm rhythmic sound of a door being knocked on, caused Morgan to groggily open her eyes.

Sleeping was odd.

She hadn't had any proper sleep ever since she was a child, having been forced to watch Vivian's memories of her learning under, flirting or fornicating with the filthy incubus.

While it was somewhat unideal to not have a proper dream, she contented herself with the fact that it was Alistair's memories, and not that harpies was soothing if nothing else.

Learning of how modern warfare operated was interesting, and the first hand account of it was… intriguing.

She turned her head to the side, only to notice Alistair had left at some point.

Sighing lightly, she removed the duvet she had tightly wrapped around herself, and smoothly tidied her hair. "Enter," she said gently.

The door was gently opened, and Alistair popped his head in.

"Morning," he said with a lopsided smile. "Does it get uncomfortable to sleep with the veil tiara thingi?" he questioned with a hint of amusement.

Morgan gave a slight snort at the comment, before moving aside her duvet. 

Before she could respond to his amusing question, Alistair stepped in, while holding a tray. "Nonono, don't get out," he said hurriedly, while entering the room.

Morgan noted a large assortment of food on the tray, and quirked a brow at the sight, not that Alistair could see it.

"What are you doing?" She questioned with interest.

Walking over to the bed, Alistair slid onto his side, and placed the tray in between the two.

"I am preparing breakfast in bed, or rather lunch in bed, given the time," he explained happily, before snatching a corner of the duvet, and pulling it over his legs.

Morgan glanced at him with confusion, not that Alistair could see it. "And why are we having breakfast here? Wouldn't crumbs get into the sheets? And what is the time?" She gave three rapidfire questions, and Alistair could only sigh.

Raising a hand, he extended a finger. "First, from what I know from Ameila, breakfast in bed is a guilty pleasure of my Mother, so I wished to try it out."

"Secondly," he extended another finger, "there won't be any crumbs in the sheets as long as you eat properly, unless you are incompetent," he said the last part with a hint of challenge, and Morgan felt a small smirk forming on her own face.

"And last but not least," he said while extending his thumb out, "it just passed eleven O'clock a minute or two ago," he explained.

Morgan felt a hint of annoyance at herself for sleeping in so long, but she ignored it, as Alistair didn't seem to mind.

Humming to herself, Morgan snatched a small plate, and shoveled some food onto the her plate.

"Thank you for the food," she thanked kindly, causing a small smile to spread over Alistair's face, before he mirrored her actions, and shoveled some food onto his own plate.

Morgan felt a small smile make its way onto her face.

After all, this was a wonderful way to start the day.

She'd have to thank Rosalind in her Vivian persona, for 'inspiring' her son to treat her to the joys of breakfast in bed.

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90 Hours, 56 Minutes And 26 Seconds Until Zero 

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A/N

Welcome back, my reader Overlords, please add this to your library and give me some comments, stones and Reviews, as it would be much appreciated.

How was the history lesson? Did it feel right? Should I have changed anything?

Thoughts on Morgan's original plan, vs the plan she came up with on the spot?

Thoughts on Morgan seeing Alistair's memories? And what did you think of his past on the front lines? Did it feel realistic enough?

Btw, I have made a Discord server for the fic, come on and chat with me!

https://discord.gg/8UkprnrG

Now I'm tired and have a fuck tone of Uni stuff to do, so have a nice day, and send me some stones or some shit, I need motivation, or some shit like that.