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#i miss burgh every day
es46 · 1 month
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Gone in the Sky
- Prompt inspired by @queep1 muse on if Skyla had been the one to vanish to Hisui. - Elesa didn't tell her. There outside of Big Stadium, their day together another one to remember, Elesa had thought Skyla looked so beautiful. Her eyes were bright, her smile dazzling, and her enthusiasm was infectious. Seeing her happy was worth any investment. Skyla hugged her, thanked her for a wonderful day, and Elesa had laughed with her, looking her in the eyes as she told her what a pleasure it was to hang out. They held the gaze longer than expected, embraced tighter than usual, and Elesa saw a blush colour Skyla's cheeks. She saws yearning in her eyes, looked closely at how Skyla's lips curved beautifully, soft and pink. She should've told her. She should've kissed her. Elesa lost her nerve, pulled away, and Skyla's smile was heartbreakingly understanding as she settled on Swanna's back. Hiding her cowardice behind the supermodel expression, Elesa wished her a safe flight. Skyla is gentle as she thanks her, assures her that it'll be a breeze with Swanna, but Elesa can't miss the disappointment in her eyes. Swanna spread her majestic white wings, and Elesa stood outside of Big Stadium long after Skyla had vanished over the horizon. She grabbed her long bangs and tugged hard. "I didn't tell her." Elesa lamented. She said that when she was slumped down on Pumice's coffee table. Pumice had rolled her eyes, remarking how the youth today had no spine, how Clay had punched out her old boyfriend to make his point. Little Lacey was more sympathetic, patting Elesa's shoulder and assuring her that there was always tomorrow. Just make sure to tell her before Lacey started at the academy. She said that when she was home and slouched on her sofa, alternating phone calls between friends. Ingo was unsurprised, sighing how Elesa was far too used to glamour instead of sincerity. Emmet was understanding, noting how long it took to understand his commitment to trains. Burgh simply laughed. They all finished with the same advice. There was always tomorrow. Elesa held that close to heart. She lost her nerve today, but tomorrow, when Skyla was back to see Big Stadium's next match, Elesa would tell her. She'd tell her she liked her. She'd tell her she loved her. Before Elesa goes to bed, her phone rings. It's Miles, Skyla's grandfather. Bewildered, Elesa listens to him apologise for bothering her, stumbling over his words, sounding lost, fettered. Something twists in Elesa's stomach, an unease that gripped her tightly. Working to keep calm, Elesa confirmed that she had seen Skyla today, that she watched her leave Nimbasa. She grips the phone tightly, the twisting only worsening as Miles goes on, sounding increasingly tormented, like he was fighting back tears, an urge to scream. "I, I asked all over Mistralton, I've looked at the tower, but I just... I just don't know. Elesa, Skyla didn't come home. She never came home today, and no-one's seen her, no-one knows where she is." Twisting. Tormented. The air rushes out of her lungs like someone just punched her in the gut. Elesa feels the phone slip out of her hand, see the world tilt on its axis, and it doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense, she thinks, until Elesa realizes she's laid on the floor, staring into nothing, a soundless scream tearing in her throat. She calls everyone she can. Pumice, Burgh, the twins, Clay, Drayden, her manager, her models, everyone. She's out on Nimbasa's streets, atop Zebstrika as he gallops to every house, to every corner, searching with the rest of them. Every sewer, seaway, subway; nothing goes unturned. The sun goes down. The sun comes up. The sun starts to set. By the time Drayden is dragging her back home, Elesa is a shadow of herself, still feeling a soundless scream clawing in her throat. It was tomorrow. No-one found Skyla. There was always tomorrow, Drayden had attempted to assure her. But as Elesa lays on her bed, twisted and tormented, the cruel realization rattles in her mind, refusing to stop. Elesa didn't tell her.
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wingsofachampion · 8 months
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OOC
Alright, this has been on my mind for several days now, and I need to say it.
I absolutely adore the gym leader/elite four/champion blogs on here. And they deserve more appreciation!
So I'm gonna go through them and shout out as many as I can!
My apologies if I miss some. Despite my efforts, I'm not following every single Pokemon IRL blog out there, and my memory isn't the best.
Shoutouts are under the cut!
@artyburgh - I had no idea who Burgh was before this blog, but I do now! I love his relationship with Grimsley, it's adorable! And I love how passionate he is about bug-types, it's lovely to see!
@grimsley-official - I love how this person writes Grimsley, he's so intriguing! I love how he still has a gambling side as shown by the dress betting, and I love his relationship with Burgh!
@underground-boss-clay - A lovely new blog with the gym leader of Tropius' new hometown! I love the shenanigans that happen here, and Clay is surprisingly sweet! The other characters here are fantastic, too. Mildred from PR is great.
@piers-official - I think this was the first of the League Crew (that's what I'm calling this group now) blogs I followed? And oh boy, what an introduction! I love learning about Piers and Marnie, and seeing the shenanigans they get up to.
@rockstar-roxie - I haven't seen this one around a lot, but I gotta shout this one out for starting the music ask games. Thank you, I've had so much fun with those!
@prestigepreceptcenterpregym - Doesn't quite fit in with the rest, but that's perfectly fitting for Justy, the sole gym leader of Orre. This blog is absolutely hilarious, and Justy is such a magnificent jerk.
@a-real-champion-time - Leon! A newer blog, with Tropius' favorite champion, the one she got a plushie of months ago! I literally laughed in glee when I saw that this blog existed, and I adore the shenanigans Leon has already been up to.
@darkpunkrocker - Another blog I haven't seen around too much, but I love the interactions Sidney and Tropius have had so far, and I enjoy whenever he pops up on my dash.
@stow-on-side-ghosts - Oooooh, spooky! Love the air of mystique with this blog, and the air of dread that's simultaneously welcoming and friendly at the same time.
@legendsobsessions - Cynthia! Probably my favorite take on Cynthia, by one of my favorite authors! I love her and Tropius' interactions, each teaching each other so much.
@ballonleastadiumofficial - Saving my absolute favorite for last! I ADORE this blog! I could not care less about Bede before, but this blog has made him one of my favorite mainline Pokemon characters, and I love how much extra character you've given him, with his conflicting feelings about Rose and all! Aaaaaaa!
Thank you all so much for running your blogs, and I look forward to many more interactions with you all!
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artyburgh · 1 year
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Ooohooo~! What do we have here?
How do you do! My name is Burgh, I hear artists these days like to use this website...? (Goodness, I feel beehind the times already... I can't be THAT old can I...?)
Hmph...~ No matter, I'm here now~! Let's get fluttering shall we~?
✨️Here's some things about me you might find interesting~!✨️
- I'm a gym leader of Unova and an artist, and I specialize in Bug Type Pokémon~! They're all just so cute... If you have anything to tell or show me about your bug type companions, do please tell me! I'm just buzzing to know~!
- My pronouns are He/Him, but I tend to express myself beyond societal gender standards~
- My height is 6'3, I've sometimes been told I'm tall, hmm...
- I'm 26~!
Oh~! Would you like to know about my Pokémon~?
- My ♀️Leavanny's name is Ivani~
- I was given a Slither Wing which I've named "Loretta", and a ♂️Floragato I've named "Viridis"~! (Viri for short~) and two Nymble but shhh that's a secret currently~ ✨️
- I have another ♀️Venipede now~! Her name is Cheri~
- I've adopted a ♀️Scyther named Hazelnut~! (Hazel for short~)
- I have three Dwebbles, a ♀️Whirlipede named Tire, a ♂️Scolipede named Mr. Freight Train (Freight or Fred for short~), a ♂️Swadloon and ♂️Sewaddle both of which whom my dear Leavanny LOVES to dote on, a ♂️Shelmet, a ♀️Karrablast, a ♀️Vespiquen, two ♂️Crustles named Rock and Boulder, two Escavaliers, an ♂️Accelgor named Axis, a ♀️Durant named Damascus, a ♂️Grubbin named Pinchy, a ♀️Dewpider named Bubbles, a ♀️Snom named Verglas, a ♂️Blipbug named Thomas (Tommy for short), and a ♂️Heracross named Hercules~ I'm probably missing some on this list... Bug Pokémon just tend to appear a lot for me as you can see~! Oho~!
✨️Do hope we all get along now~!✨️ Feel free to send me any asks~!
((OOC: HI! I've made a Pokémon RP/ASK blog (I'm new to doing this on Tumblr, but I've roleplayed before for a long time so it should be a fun experience for me hopefully!), this blog will pretend as though the Pokémon world is completely real, so therefore every post will be tagged with "pkmn rp" as a 'content warning' of sorts.))
⬇️ Below contains rules, disclaimers, and general info. I humbly ask to read before following or interacting. It's a bit lengthy, so if that overwhelms you then I advise reading it in small sections and moving onto the next section until you're done and taking your time.
This blog is of course SFW. (If you try to stray from this beyond being vaguely suggestive you will very likely be blocked. I do not like to handle NSFW subjects in public.) Following this account may also put long threads in your feed a lot of the time. If you don't like that, I recommend blocking the following tags: "rp thread" and "long post".
(I am currently not planning on cutting my threads, I will not use Xkit for most roleplayers. Please respect this, and just simply mute the tags stated above or if you like, you can turn on the option that visually cuts off long thread posts if you use mobile. I will adapt to this if the other person I rp with either has xkit or wishes to use an alternative format, but right now this is what you're getting if you follow me. If that bothers you then you do not have to interact with this blog.)
I may use the Pokémon RP or IRL tags and whatnot, but they are just tags to me. I am often semi-selective with who I interact with, and I do not technically consider myself a part of any community due to my social anxiousness. Please respect that. I do not care if you feel as though my personal enjoyment and comfort is selfish. No matter how much I try, I can tend to find a lot of discomfort and difficulties in fully communicating with people I don't know. Do not let this deter you from starting interactions, it's easier for me if the other party starts them so I can fully adjust with interacting with you and your character.
I am open to any (within reason) anon asks. (Not all asks will be answered right away, sometimes my brain blanks out on responses that require a complex answer for a long while. I also have a life. Be patient.)
This portrayal of Burgh is single-ship. This blog is not multiship nor is this portrayal of Burgh poly. He is gay and taken by a Grimsley blog. You may playfully flirt with him but nothing more will be gained from it.
This blog for Burgh takes place generally after the events of the Black 2 and White 2 games.
This blog will feature both blogging and roleplay aspects and will sometimes be loose with the separation of which is which. If this bothers you, I generally don't recommend following. I'm by no means organized or strict in any way, I'm just here to have fun. This does not mean I can't tell the difference between a blog post and roleplay when it comes to other people. I just really like to create extra content for the viewer/audience to visualize, such as off or on-screen expressions and actions. They are fun. We like fun here. I am not going to engage in a roleplay thread with an account out of the blue. It needs to be asked and discussed first.
If a post is tagged with "off screen narrative post", then it's an off-screen event simply put there for the audience. You may interact with them directly, but there is a high likelihood there will not be a response back. Your chances are better if you have your character turn up physically to the setting of the post, since it's off-screen, but once again there is no guarantee for response unless it's something I have planned with another roleplayer.
The harlequins in Burgh's gym have the same names as from the Black 2 and White 2 games, these names are: Jack(28), Clarence(25), Anders(34), and Gary(27). These harlequins are being written for, despite being simple NPCs with the same sprite. Many creative liberties are being taken, so these can be classified as sort of OCs. Think of it like the Depot Agent situation with the submas fandom.
The admin struggles a ton from generalized and social anxiety, so replies may likely be limited unfortunately. Due to this, I also have incredible difficulties with starting interactions. Do not take it personally if I do not reply to you. If you do take it personally, I may likely block you. The roleplay here will mainly be stuck to lighthearted fun, but serious topics will occur here and there.
If you want to bring my muse into a plot (Especially if it has any potentially triggering themes) PLEASE discuss it with me first. Do not be upset if I refuse, however. Be respectful of my decisions.
My portrayal of this character is not a joke muse, and will often react to things in a realistic manner. My character is also often (Understandably) jumpy around those who may hold a fear of his Pokémon and type specialty, so it will very easily discourage him in interacting. (Do not misconstrue the reactions of the character with the reactions of the admin, however.)
This account may block others without warning, this does not necessarily mean that you've done anything wrong, but these actions are taken usually for my own mental health. (But no worries, this is often a highly uncommon and unlikely occurrence.) (If I've blocked you then uh, sorry you probably scare me. No hard feelings just scared. Don't try to ask me abt it pls. Don't be dramatic about it and move on, leave me be.)
This Burgh has headcanons that are independent from canon, due to there being a huge lack of canon information on Burgh. Nothing too crazy for this account, however. I'll try my best to roleplay as this fun little artist gym leader, but this account will not be strictly adhered to canon. (Ex. I have an hc that he's half latin american but since there is no latam region I either say Paldea or "a far off region" and he can speak some Spanish.) Also I may take inspiration/mirror the format/amount of literature of other accounts I mutually interact with. I do not use icons on the regular, but I may use some of my artwork and/or manga images to have Burgh emote.
Do try to inform me of any off-canon headcanons that you may have about any particular Pokémon, I kind of got confused when one was brought up to me. This account is perfectly fine with interacting with sapient Pokémon, I consider the Meowth from Team Rocket as canon and so therefore I will not be making any exceptions for other talking Pokémon. But anyways my headcanons on the world is generally loose so if you wish to stick more towards IRL facts or Pokémon World facts I have no problem with it. (By default, I will be sticking more towards Pokémon canon in terms of logic.) (Same goes for non-human or different fandom blogs or duplicate canon characters in general like y'all can vibe we're just silly littol guys and roleplayers it's not difficult for me to interact with y'all whatsoever. Though if your canon character is the same as a character mine has already established an rp connection with I will respectably make the distinction.)
My Burgh tends to also use casual nicknames for others such as "dear" or "darling", so please, if you find that uncomfortable, do not interact with him. He's too eccentric for his own good and talks like your rich victorian auntie who loves bug puns. /lh
Posts may have writing errors. The grammar and writing for posts may be edited frequently. (I generally try my best. I have language issues, as I do not live in a primarily English-speaking country. Be nice.)
The admin is an adult and is over 20, so please keep that in mind. Don't be weird or gross.
Proshippers, TERFs, NSFW accs, ANTI-ANTIs, ableists and racists, LGBTQ+phobes, general assholes and gross bastards DNI I'll block you immediately if I find you.
All art is and will always be my own, unless I am collaborating with other artists.
If you do plan on sending me or my character(s) art that is not your own, please cite the original artist. If you do not cite your sources, I would rather you not send the artwork at all. Google reverse image search is your friend for these things. (Exceptions for this rule include: Official Pokémon/videogame artwork, edits of official Pokémon/videogame artwork, and TCG artwork.)
Thank you for reading! Sorry this is long, congrats for making it this far, you have my genuine appreciation.
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alolanrain · 1 year
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I’m calling myself out as well lmao dw
Question for the au: would anyone find out about ash dancing habit and if so how would they react? (I can see Brock finding out but idk) -🔶
Brock doesn’t actually find out surprisingly. The club scene in general isn’t his idea and he doesn’t go to local dance studios either as he doesn’t dance himself. Ash doesn’t like showing off in front of his traveling companions because he gets this gut feeling they’ll ask to many questions or brag about it to almost everyone they meet in some way. Like an anxiety thing instead of being pompous about it.
Dawn finds out about it because she decided to take a dance lesson a local club was hosting for her contest, it included their Pokémon partner so Dawn was getting inspiration from it. Brock and Ash went to do their own thing as they had wanted to just take a ‘me’ day as well. She ended up seeing Ash in another room like across the hallway from where her lesson was being held.
Rap and all sort of other music would change frequently in the room but she caught Ash going through a free style run to a Unovian pop song and him and his partner was really in sync. She stopped and watched in amazement with Piplup how Ash barely even sweat as he did all these crazy dance moves across the whole floor while the few other people with them were hyping him and his dance partner up. She ended up missing her lesson just to watch Ash, secretly because she’s just like that. 
Trip was the next to find out. Surprisingly going to the gym to work out himself and spotting Ash and Burgh of all people in a studio that was by the rack he was setting up at. He tried to ignore it but soon the two’s movements caught his eye. It was a mix of freestyle and ballet and honestly one of the coolest things Trip has seen in a while, though he’ll take it to the grave.
Trip had switched to a treadmill after a couple of minutes, not even finishing his set on the rack, because he couldn’t keep his eyes off the two. He could hear what Burgh was telling Ash though he could barley hear the music from the very sound proof room and the window pains shook just noticeably. He also didn’t know just how flexible Ash was at the moment.
Ash had joined a salsa/tango class in Kalos for the bell of it, after returning to Lumiose city with the gang and going off to get a breather from them, and he was surprisingly paired with Malva. He was new to the class and everyone else wasn’t so the instructor wanted to see where his skill lie. It was also the first time he met Lysandre but Ash didn’t know it at the time as the man looked nothing like the evil asshole during the Kalos Crisis. It wasn’t until later that Ash made the connection between the two.
Alola is rich with dance and music so the entire class knew about Ash’s like of performance, though not nearly the entire extent of it, so they were more then happy to try and teach him. Kukui even made it as a little class bonding event during school hours and a project for each student to learn one specific dance and try and teach it to Ash during the week.
The Professor, and Burnet later down the road, took to teaching Ash the slower dance’s. Kind of like a wind down method after a hard week or a particularly stressful day. Sometimes they didn’t even do Alolan dances, sometimes just having their own dance battles down at the beach and making fun of each other. Hau was on a mission to teach Ash more of the strict traditional dances before he left.
Gou and Chloe don’t know about Ash’s hobby, though their catching on to their friends disappearance act that he does every couple of times every week. Since he’s stationed in a well known town Ash is able to go to a lot more spots to freestyle with people and actually make connections that way.
They do catch him in the future though on a particularly rowdy night. A festival held in the honor of Mew and everyone was wearing mask’s and clothing both traditional and not to Kanto’s culture. A sort of dance mob surrounded the middle park of the city and Ash was in the direct center of it all, dressed as Lugia in non traditional clothing with his own painted mask that flowed in the dark. Other friends from his dance endeavors had joined him that night to do what they always do, this time in the midst of the public and giving out a free show to everyone, and they all made their clothes glow in the night sky.
The park they chose was gorgeous, street lamps weren’t on and instead lanterns and fairy lights strung from the tree’s. A gazebo located behind them and was used during all the coordinated dancing they did. Much like those dancing movies when that finally scene happens or something like that.
Goh and Chloe knew it was Ash by the sound of his voice and were openly surprised, like jaw to the floor, as Ash took charge of most of the group dancing. Being the center of attention for a good chunk but not the majority of the night, more so than anyone else in the group though, and he radiated confidence and cockiness through his motions. Definitely because of the veil and security of the mask in his face.
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Fired and Missed, and Missed Again (Ch. 6)
Clay finds himself in the middle of the woods (at night!). Meanwhile, N gets some new digs and Hilbert finally gets an answer as to what an Alpha Pokémon is. On the flip side, the Unovans are making progress about where their missing friends are! Or so they think.
(Prev) -> Current -> (Next)
Here’s this week’s chapter! I will admit I am fairly sleep deprived right now (I have been awake since 1AM) so I’m hoping there’s not too many mistakes in here. Hope you all enjoy!
Word Length: 6131
Relevant Tags: Crack, crack treated seriously, comedy, time travel
Read it on AO3! Or below the cut! Enjoy!
When Clay woke up, he found that he was slumped against a tree.
Now, why on this big blue Earth was he slumped against a tree of all things? Hadn't he just been in the station hall taking a call from his boys back at the gym?
Groaning, he pushed himself off of the trunk. Yes, he distinctly remembered being told how that old girl of a Galvantula was back at it, blocking the entrance to Chargestone Cave again with her webs. He had thought something had gone wrong with the equipment down in the mines with the way his employee was jabbering on over the other end of the call.
Clay was positive that he had just been about ready to tell the man that he would be down by the caves in a moment once everything was wrapped up in the meeting. He couldn't very well leave everyone high and dry when multiple of their own had been snatched so close one after another.
But then his speaker had crackled, the voice on the other end breaking up. While his cell might have been old- he certainly wasn't going to buy into the Rotom Phone craze that had been taking every region by storm, and besides his flip phone was for work only- his reception had never gotten that bad before.
Through all the fuzz and white noise, Clay had heard just one thing get through.
"A... little... to... the... left-!"
Naturally, he assumed that it was from his employee on the other end.
He had shaken his head just when he felt something grab his ankles and then everything went black from there on.
And now he woke up in the middle of the woods.
As though it were just your average weekday.
Looking around, he tried to get a feel as to where exactly he was. He had traveled all around Unova, and just because he spent most of his time underground didn't mean that he couldn't recognize when he wasn't in any of their forests.
He frowned when he was unable to get his bearings straight. There was certainly no tree this grand offset by hills in Unova.
Which meant he was elsewhere.
"Son of a gun," Clay cursed, hand going down toward where he kept his pokéballs.
This had to of been the work of Neo Plasma, no doubt about it in his mind. He knew that he and the rest of the Gym Leaders had been thinking they were the reason for Burgh, the professor, and Nate going missing, they just hadn't said it yet. Hell, Clay was willing to bet his entire fortune that they had been the ones to nab Boss Ingo all those years ago too. Just now they had gotten a little too cocky after getting away with it the first time.
Well. Clay would show them once more what a mistake it was to mess with the wrong business man.
His hands came up empty. His Pokémon were gone.
Clay's main ones in any case.
Reaching into his inner pocket, he pulled out a regular ol' reliable pokéball.
In it was a little Archen, one that he had worked on reviving with Lenora. Normally he didn't keep any of the fossil Pokémon that he unearthed with him letting Lenora handled that side of the business. But a couple days after dropping this little one's encased plume off in Nacrene she had called him back and said that she would greatly appreciate if he took her off of her hands.
The little lady had separation anxiety it turned out. So even though she wasn't a ground-type he was keeping her.
She wasn't trained yet for battling, but he was certain she would get the hang of it as they trashed those Plasma punks.
He slipped her capsule back into his pocket. Plasma had missed her so she would stay out of sight until absolutely necessary. Clay wasn't keen on losing her too.
Now... where should he start wandering. Grunts always seemed to come in twos or threes, so if he just chose a direction and kept walking he was sure to run into them eventually.
It was dark out, but not so dark that he couldn't see where he was going as he carefully avoided the roots of the grand tree. The moonlight shone and the sky was so clear that he actually had to take a moment to pause and stare.
Heh. Sometimes it was easy to forget how many stars there were in the sky with how much light pollution Unova seemed to generate.
They were just white little specks in the inky canvas of the sky. But golly, what a treat.
Clay couldn't let them distract him from getting out of his current mess, however, so despite how pretty they were he had to keep his gaze ahead of him.
Just on schedule too, as he had just enough time to back up as a giant ax blade came swinging down where he was standing prior.
He jumped back a few steps for good measure, holding onto his hat with one hand and reaching for his pocket with the other as a massive mantid-like Pokémon crept around the other end of trunk.
What in Sam Hill was that?
It glared at him before tilting its head in confusion, yanking its blade out of the ground but not attempting to attack Clay for a second time. It did drag the two matching axes against the ground as it stomped closer to him, and Clay kept an eye out for the deadly weapons that could definitely cleave him in two if the bug decided that its curiosity was satiated and found that Clay was no longer necessary.
Clay was five seconds away from bringing his little lady out even though he had a feeling she was widely under leveled to face off against such a Pokémon when a newcomer joined the fray.
"Intruder! How dare you enter Lord Kleavor's arena without permission!" a youngish voice sounded out, and Clay turned in the direction it was coming from watching as a small child clad in pink and in a-
The kid, who looked like the spitting image of what he had looked like as a small tyke, came to a halt the very second that he got a good look at Clay. The torch illuminated the child's face, and if it were lighter out then maybe Clay would have been able to tell whether his hair, with the same kind of curl pattern as his own, was brown or auburn like the fire light made it out to be.
But the hat on the kid's head... that was unmistakable.
And the boy must have recognized that little fact too.
"You..." the little kid trailed off, frown deepening as his eyes focused on Clay's own hat. "You have my gem. But that's..." he trailed off as his hand went up to his own hat, confirming that the jewel was still firmly in place.
Clay wasn't an idiot.
But he mayhap had massively misunderstood what had happened to him for him to end up in the woods.
He had always known that his family had roots in Sinnoh. Was hard not to considering his parents and he visited often. Had a nice little home in Eterna City and everything. They often journeyed over to visit his grandparents who had plenty of stories to tell about their own parents.
Their family history was quite the thing to be proud of, although Clay had always been a bastion for making his own legacy and path in life. What worth was success if hard work coming from his own two hands wasn't involved?
Didn't mean he loved his family any less. He wore the family jewel with pride, displaying it on his hat the way that his mother had done, and the way that her father before her did too.
The family jewel had been mined by his great grandpappy, an orphan from rivaling clan warfare, at just the age of eight. It was an honor to wear it, knowing that his ancestor had overcome great odds to survive in a time where the world just seemed to be out to get everyone. It had been one of a kind, nothing finer had ever been mined.
But because it had been so unique and rare to unearth it meant that it immediately snitched on him within the first few seconds of meeting the man- well, boy - who didn't look much older than eight. Possibly ten or eleven if Clay was being generous.
The little kid shook his head, before fiercely glaring at him and demanding, "Who are you? And how do you have my gem?"
Now, Clay wasn't the hustlin' kinda fella but he hauled ass to get away from his great grandpappy and his giant extinct mantid, fiercely ignoring the yell of, "HEY! Get back here!"
Not a chance in hell, kid. Clay wasn't particularly in the mood to erase himself from history by mucking with the timeline.
If only his ancestor was of the same mind as he shouted, "Lord Kleavor! After him!"
"Do you see that?" N asked his friend, shuffling forward in the snow. Well. Shuffling was kinder than admitting to himself that he was stumbling. On his last legs as it was.
He was so cold. The wind had kicked up not too long after starting his search and with how quickly night came N wasn't entirely sure for how much longer he could have gone on without finding some sort of town.
But there, just ahead of him, was an abandoned campground. Everything was still set up by the shore and his eyes settled on the firepit. Living in the wilds often had made him accustomed to starting his own fire, so he trudged through the snow in a staggering gait, knowing that if he could just push himself to make it to the sight then all would be well.
He gently let down Snover and withheld a shiver at the lack of an additional body warmth and grappled around for some kindling. N only felt slightly guilty for opening the chest at the campground and shuffling around for supplies, but he was sure that if whoever it was that resided here returned he would be able to explain his situation to them and apologize.
It took a couple starts before he was finally able to bring the fire to life. But he didn't stop to sit by it, instead N returned to the chest.
Inside was a variety of supplies, of which N ignored as he didn't know what their purpose was. No. Instead he focused on the articles of clothing. He was hoping for a coat of some kind, but only unfurled various uniforms with designations unknown to him.
He tested the texture of the fabric, deeming whether it would keep him warm or not, before figuring that anything would be better than the light fabric of his current ensemble. Carefully, he folded his white dress shirt and put it into the box- that should let the owner know that he was coming back, hopefully- and shuffled on the indigo robe. There was a yellow scarf underneath and he gleefully wrapped it tight around his neck.
N continued to look in the chest, hoping for a hat that could cover his ears or perhaps gloves when his hand grazed against something wooden. Curious, he pulled out a mask.
The inside read, 'Property of Akari! Rei is not allowed to wear it.' But in the middle was some sort of carver signature, likely from the one who had originally made it.
Flipping it over, he took in the features.
It looked like a Zoroark. A very stylized one at that. The colors were wrong for the general palette the species held but was just about right for their shiny coat. His hand traced the craftsmanship, feeling the dips where a chisel had dug in a little too deep.
Considering that it brought a smile to his face, he slipped it over his head and adjusted its position until it was settled on the right side of his temple.
After all, the note said that only Rei was not allowed to wear it. N was not Rei.
He placed his hat where the mask had been crammed, wishing that he could add a note to the tag inside of it, exclaiming that it was the property of N. Hilbert not allowed to wear it. Although, that would probably only be funny to him.
Moving on, with how soaked the bottoms of his pants were, N knew that he too had to change out of them too. But he would like to keep some of his dignity in front of his friend, so he slipped into the tent beside the chest and pulled down the flap to do that.
Of course, he had to push away curious branches that snuck under the covering as Snover tried to join him inside. Too curious for his own good that one.
Once fully clothed in his new attire- he made sure to keep his accessories on him, not willing to part with any of them- N was relieved that he was already starting to warm up. It wasn't a question that his next action was to settle himself down next to the fire.
"Much better," he sighed, his hands hovering above the flames. "Don't you agree."
No. Snover huffed, staying away from the fire by hiding behind N's back.
"Ah, I suppose not. You're much better adapted to the cold than I," N remarked.
He wasn't sure whether he should stay long enough to apologize to the owner- Akari? Or was she just one of the people who inhabited the camp?- or if he should leave to find those cakes and Hilbert. N was leaning toward the latter, mostly because now that he knew of the camp ground he could always return to it once he was done feeding the baby.
Speaking of...
"It really is quite warm beside the fire here," he made sure to project his voice. "I wouldn't mind if anyone else would like to share it with me."
No response.
But he could feel that the parent was still hanging around close by.
N sighed at the reject, but he was also a tad relieved that calling out his stalker hadn't prompted the Pokémon to go on the offensive.
Perhaps, once he had proven to have good intentions when it came to feeding their pup the parent would join him and N could ask a few questions. Surely the older Pokémon would have more of an answer than his inquisitive friend and the fussy baby did.
Turning, he looked to see how close the parent was to him. They were hanging back by the trees on top of the frozen hill. N thought it was a good position. They clearly had the high ground and thus an advantage if it turned out that N had bad intentions. Which he didn't, but they didn't know that.
They stared at him with relentless focus. He could have sworn that they were staring at his mask, curiously enough.
He avoided that section and continued to memorize the area, wanting to make sure that he could find his way back when the time came to return the property that he was borrowing to their rightful owners. N immediately picked up on what was on the other side of the river, a large entrance to a cave. That must have been the place the baby had been talking about. The Glacier Terrace.
What a fortuitous location! It meant that all the places he had to be were within a close range of each other. That certainly was a comfort to know.
N continued to follow the path of the river and sighed in relief once he saw the signs of civilization all the way in the back corner of the tundra. It was too far away and too dark for him to pick out anything specific but so long as there were people there he was good.
That would be his next stop. Hopefully there he could get some answers. And bean cakes.
But for now, he would just stay beside the fire with his friend and his unwanted minder. N really needed warming up.
After that random earthquake had subsided, and the captain tried her best to regain her composure despite the fact that she had hair strands out of place all over. For as much as she was trying to look unaffected, Hilbert could tell she had been frazzled by the unexpected natural disaster.
"As we were saying," she said, a hand reaching up to push back the fly away strands. "An Alpha is a designation for Pokémon much larger and stronger than their normal counterparts. They are not to be underestimated or taken lightly; perfect for testing your place within our ranks."
Oh. That didn't sound all that bad. Hilbert didn't see why Akari had been making such a big fuss out of it. Pokémon came in all sizes, so what if that Rapidash was a little bit taller than normal?
Wow, people really must have been so afraid of Pokémon in the past, huh? He bet that they would wet their pants about a Wurmple having a couple more spikes than normal. Please.
"Sounds like a piece of cake," Hilbert said, nodding to himself. "And you said I have three days?"
"Yes, starting from the very second you leave our gates to head into the Fieldlands," Cyllene confirmed. "You will only be provided with fifty pokéballs for your trial. No more. Should you run out, you will be expected to either craft them yourself with no assistance from our surveyors- yes, including you Akari- or give up and forfeit your chance to join the Galaxy Team."
Fifty pokéballs? That was more than generous. Hilbert predicated that he would only need ten for the Rapidash itself, the rest he could use to gather some fire power to knock back the Pokémon's health until he got the capture just right.
This would be as easy as breathing was; he could catch Pokémon in his sleep.
"Upon failure, you are no longer our concern," she continued, voice emitting no emotion. "And you will either thrive or die in the wilds."
"Bleak much?" he muttered, once again cursing his loose filter with how Cyllene's eyes hardened at his statement. "Well, it's a good thing you'll see me in your office again in three day's time with that Alpha Rapidash, huh?"
"Cockiness will not get you far here."
Oh ho, so it was like that then? Fine, "And I even bet that I will be back earlier than that."
"We shall see," she said as she moved to adjust her chair back into an upright position, finally sitting down on it. Her Abra, who had been kind of hanging out in the corner, teleported over to her side and used his psychic abilities to pick up all her scattered materials. "Thank you."
"Do you want me to get him some pokéballs from Tao Hua?" Akari asked.
"Yes, tell him that I request a starter satchel from him," she nodded.
"The kind you gave me?"
"The very same."
Akari saluted, "On it, Captain!"
The younger teen dashed out of the room leaving Hilbert alone with Cyllene.
He thought that they were just going to wait in silence when the woman spoke up, "I desire the truth from you; how did you get here?"
Well, the jig was up. It lasted all of what? Ten minutes tops?
Claiming amnesia had absolutely been the wrong play to make.
"I wasn't exactly lying when I said that I just woke up on the beach," Hilbert said, speaking honestly.
"Do you truly expect me to believe that two people fell from the sky and share the same exact story," Cyllene's voice was hard and it was like she was staring directly into his soul with her deadened eyes.
"No, not really. While I don't really know too much about Akari's circumstance- I literally just met her- regarding her memory loss, my memory is just fine." Hilbert shifted, trying to alleviate his weight. He was tempted to rock back on his heels but the captain would probably find that unprofessional. Instead he just continued on with his point, "So if you really want to know what I was doing before landing on the beach I can tell you."
That certainly got her interest as she subtly shifted in her seat, "Do go on."
"I was-" Hilbert should probably leave out the existence of Xtranscievers. Considering they didn't exist yet. "Talking to my friend who was pretty worried about her boss going missing. I was getting ready to go and help her look for her when all of a sudden I found myself falling. From there I really did just wake up randomly on the beach. I kinda thought I was dreaming at first until Akari woke me up."
"How peculiar," Cyllene turned her attention to her hands which were folded and resting on her desk. "I extend my apologies to your friend, as I am sure having two people going missing on her would be quite the distressing experience."
"Yeah…" Hilbert agreed. He was really banking on the hope that whatever thing had sent Akari into the past would place him back immediately once they finished that Pokédex of hers. "Bianca's a tough cookie though, so I'm sure she'll be able to push past mine and Professor Juniper's disappearance to do what needs to be done."
Cyllene looked back up at him, "I appreciate your continued honesty however in the future take note that emitting crucial information through half-truths and white lies in reports will not be tolerated."
Yeah that was fair. "Sure thing."
Akari burst back into the room spinning in a pirouette, holding up a satchel, "Da-da-dunnn! Got it!"
"Thank you, recruit," Cyllene gestured for Hilbert to take the satchel. "Inside should be the fifty pokéballs as previously stated."
Hilbert took the bag from Akari and peered inside. He blinked at the sight of the wooden balls. "Woah."
He was dying to see how they felt when throwing them. Were they lighter or heavier because of the different materials? How long would they last until they broke?
"You may take the night to rest before your trial starts," the captain stated. "Falling from such great heights must be taxing on the body."
Closing the satchel and slipping it on- it felt and looked a little too close to a fanny pack for Hilbert's fashion sense to survive- he said, "Thanks but I'd rather just get this show on the road."
"Very well then. Akari will lead you to the plains where the Alpha Rapidash roams."
"Come on!" Akari said, grabbing at his wrist. "Normally it's best to go surveying when it's light out that way nothing can sneak attack ya, but we can just hang around the base camp until morning!"
She dragged Hilbert out of the office the same way she had dragged him in and he was really considering discussing some boundaries with her. He couldn't keep being dragged around like a Lillipup on a leash; he was supposed to be the cool and suave mentor.
Just before the door closed behind them, Cyllene spoke one last time, "I hope that you will live up to your expectations."
"That means she likes you," Akari beamed up at him.
"Right, well," Hilbert ruffled his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. "She could be a little more obvious about it, you know?"
"I don't think she's physically capable of that," she shook her head. "Like I told you before, she's a softy and a sweetheart! Even when I got kicked out of the village she made sure that I could still access all my Pokémon."
When she got kicked out of- time and place for everything, Hilbert, but not now. If he just kept repeating that phrase over and over in his head then maybe he would stop trying to ride his bike in places it wasn't allowed. What? Nevermind.
He would interrogate her for her full and unabridged story after he proved he could take down one measly Alpha Rapidash.
They walked out of the building without any altercations and headed to the gate opposite of the one they came in from.
"Ress!" Akari yelled out, releasing his wrist to wave erratically. "We're heading into the Fieldlands now!"
The man in the red security uniform nodded at her, "I'll let the usual crew know you're heading out. I'd go get the professor but I heard that he has guests with him today."
"Yeah, we saw," she said. "Any idea who they are? I know he mentioned Arezu brought a friend with her."
"I met the guy briefly when letting them in but didn't get his name," Ress shook his head. "He's a lanky looking fellow. Seemed pleasant enough but then again it was Warden Arezu leading the conversation."
"I'll hunt him down later," Akari promised, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. "I'm always up for making new friends."
Hilbert was slightly horrified by the first half of her statement and couldn't help but ask, "And if he doesn't want to be your friend?"
It must have been the fire light from the lantern that let Akari's face be cloaked in shadows, but she had a dark gaze to her as she said, "Oh he will. They all do eventually."
Hilbert shared a frantic look with Ress, who in turn looked resigned and gazed upon him with eyes that foretold of no escape.
Akari brightened up and went, "Tell the others they can meet us at the base camp!"
Was it too late to beg for help and claim that he was being held hostage?
Guess not considering that he had no choice but to follow after Akari who jaunted ahead with nary a care in the world.
Twin Dragons, he begged of them- save him from the weirdo teenage girl please.
"Well." Emmet smiled at the screen that he and the rest of the assembly were looking at. "That's bizarre."
Hm, actually, no. Bizarre wasn't even cutting it close to how strange it was to see Clay silently, but clearly passionately, speak into his rinky-dinky flip phone, pacing back and forth as he did. Wasn't an adequate enough word for when he paused and pulled his phone back, his bushy brows furrowed as though something was wrong with his connection.
And then to see a thousand transparent hands surge through the floor and pull him through it. Completely disappearing as his flip phone clattered onto the ground.
"I'd say it's a little more than bizarre," Lenora remarked, looking kind of faint.
"Try freaky," Roxie shivered.
Lenora winced, "Personally I would have said that it was straight out of a cosmic horror novel but sure let's go with that."
"I guess we can rule out Team Plasma," Marlon scratched his chin.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Chili shook his head from where he stood besides his brothers. "Remember how Ghetsis used Kyurem to freeze everything?"
"Do we have any legendaries with a thousand arms in Unova though?"
The teacher, Cheren, moved closer to the screen. He was narrowing his eyes at it, looking for something as the scene replayed.
The young blonde lady beside him, who Emmet had been told was the professor's assistant Bianca, asked, "Notice anything, Cheren?"
"Possibly." He rubbed his eyes before turning to Office Jenny, "Is it possible for you to slowly scrub through the footage?"
"Of course," she nodded before adjusting the video so that she could go frame by frame.
The scene looked even freakier when it was happening so slowly.
"A moment please," Cheren spoke up. "Go back a couple of frames."
The Jenny obliged, glancing up every so often to gauge Cheren's reaction.
Then, "There."
The young adult pointed at the screen and Jenny stopped manipulating the footage letting everyone see what Cheren had spotted.
"What in the world," Brycen muttered.
Just before the hands had surged up to grab at Clay, for just one brief moment a symbol had appeared on the ground underneath him.
It was a mark composed of two semi-circles surrounding a full circle in the middle with spikes striking through.
Officer Jenny jolted in her seat before bolting out of the room. Weirrrd reaction, but then again Emmet assumed that she was going to inform the rest of the officers that a Pokémon- most likely a Legendary- of some sort was responsible for whisking away Clay.
"How come none of us noticed that?" Cress questioned aloud. "You must have really good eyes, Cheren, nice catch."
"Respectfully I disagree," he shook his head in return. "I only noticed because the bright flash was irritating them and I wished to know what it was that was causing it."
"But how come it's not still on the ground," Roxie tilted her head in thought. "Shouldn't that have been the first thing we noticed, besides Clay being missing in the first place?"
Seeing as the seat was unoccupied, Emmet took Jenny's spot and began moving through the video again, getting to the moment when both Clay and the hands had vanished.
The sigil was gone. Well. No. Mostly gone. What was left behind were scuff marks on the tiles that only looked like the symbol if you already knew what to look for.
He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, smile agitated as he thought about it.
"Nope!" he said, turning to the musician. "Whoever this thief is has done a verrry good job at covering their tracks up until now!"
Roxie quirked up a brow, "Not good enough to not get caught on camera."
"Perhaps," he shrugged. "But think of it this way; who cares about getting filmed in the act when you already got what you wanted. Six times in a row."
She caught onto what he was implying as she said, "So they got sloppy."
"Bingo!"
"I'm back!" Officer Jenny huffed, carrying with her two boxes full of evidence.
"Woah!" Chili moved forward to help her by grabbing the top box. "What's all this for?"
"That's- one second please," she set down the second box onto the meeting table with a thump. "That holds the files from Boss Ingo's disappearance."
Emmet fixed his posture, fully at attention now. A couple of the Gym Leaders glanced his way but kept silent. Chili set down the box close to the man, hands up as though Emmet would attack him just for holding onto something related to his brother's missing person case.
"And this is what we collected from Professor Juniper's lab," Jenny finished. She opened the box and slipped on a pair of gloves. "We brought in these tiles because we noticed they were singed. We had been hoping to see if we could analyze what Pokémon or move may have caused it but it came to me that if we just move them around... like so..."
"But what of Boss Ingo's box?" Cilan questioned, sending a glance to Emmet. "Was there any footage from when he went missing?"
He shook his head, "No. Ingo did not go missing in the subway, otherwise we would have some. Yup. He went home one night and that was the last I ever saw him again. Nothing out of the ordinary from the hallway cameras at his apartment complex either."
"So then what do you think you found?" Cilan addressed the officer now.
Yes, Emmet would like to know that as well.
"In just a moment," she said, distracted. "I'm almost done."
Carefully she finished setting the pieces down on the table, taking care to not outright tamper with the evidence as she did so, adjusting the cracked floor tiles until-
"That's the same symbol as in the video," Bianca exclaimed, eyes wide. Sure enough, just as the mark had appeared after Clay was gone, right there scattered across the separate pieces.
Officer Jenny brought out a camera and started to take photos of the arrangement. When she was finished doing that, she shuffled off her gloves and moved onto Ingo's box.
"Before I start with this one, I should apologize to you Boss Emmet," she said looking at him. "It was negligent of us to not explore every possibility when it came to your brother's disappearance."
Emmet did not tell her that it was ok because it wasn't but he nodded in acknowledgement of her apology. That still did not answer what connection she had made about this case with his Ingo's.
Officer Jenny shuffled through the folders in the smaller box, before pulling out a file and opening it. She shuffled through the papers before pulling out a photograph.
"When we investigated his apartment we found no signs of a forceful entry or that an altercation broke out," she said as everyone gathered to look at the photo she placed on the table. "We had experts catalog and identify what damage in the apartment was from his own Pokémon. As such we completely overlooked this the first time."
Emmet blinked as he stared down at the photo. "Ah. That's why they didn't give back the security deposit."
It was a burn mark on the floor of Ingo's former apartment. A carpet was pulled up, insinuating that the mark had been covered prior to discovery. Considering that Ingo's ace was Chandelure, he could see why the forensic investigators would have ruled it out as her being the culprit to that. Especially if it wasn't on display.
And... it didn't look like the calling card of a criminal, he dejectedly admitted to himself. The burn was in the shape of a spiral, and looked for the most part like an accident.
But with the knowledge of what had happened to the other's he cocked his head to the side and tried to see if any sort of symbol stood out. Perhaps it could look like tendrils if he squinted.
Unfortunately, to his dismay, it was verrry much not the same as what appeared in Juniper's lab or beneath Clay.
Drayden pointed out the same thing, gruffly stating, "It's a different shape."
"So we have two different Legendaries just kidnapping people left and right?" Elesa asked.
"We can't say that for certain," Cheren shook his head.
"Why not?"
"I mean, Ingo was taken years ago, right?" Skyla said to her. "It's entirely possible that whatever Pokémon it is that did it decided to... change I guess is the word I'm looking for? Yeah, change it's symbol."
Elesa took a moment to consider Skyla's words before shaking her head, "I just can't see that; let's propose that Legendaries are like designer brands for a moment. If you're so high up in the industry- or hierarchy- you wouldn't just change your logo. Update it slightly maybe but such a drastic change?"
"Well whatever Legendary or Mythical is at fault, I'll go check to see if I can find anything in the library relating to these symbols," Lenora announced. "Can I request a copy of all three of these photos?"
Officer Jenny nodded, "Certainly, one moment please. I need to update the rest of the team about this discovery."
Emmet twisted his seat to look back at the CCTV footage of Clay's disappearance.
A Legendary with a thousand arms huh... Emmet had no clue as to which it was. There were simply too many Legendaries to keep track of and it felt like more and more kept popping up. The job of updating the banned list of Pokémon in the subway was delegated to one of their senior depot agents and not himself unfortunately.
Well. No matter.
It was only a matter of time before they found out who it was and then-
Well, then Emmet could have a couple of words with them. A little chit chat even!
And perhaps a Pokémon battle or two or three. However many it took until Ingo and the others were brought back safe and sound.
"Oh, hello," the man whirled around as a voice snuck up on him.
"Who are you?" he demanded, tightening his grip on his cane. He grit his teeth and looked around, "And where am I?"
"Why stranger, you're in Hisui," the stranger smiled at him in a way that made his eyes pinch close. "And as to who I am, well, my name is Volo! I'm a merchant with the Ginkgo Guild. It's very nice to meet you, sir...?"
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freebooter4ever · 1 year
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Of all the things to miss from the burgh, grass (literal) seems silly, but like working at carne*gie mell*n we had this GIANT field right behind the school called schenley park, and at the first sign of spring when the temperature finally hit above 60, you could cut through porter hall and climb the back of the hill, and that field was at the perfect angle for lying down in the soft grass and watching the oakland skyline, like a natural ampitheater. \o/ (it was also always slightly weird to think that in my grandpa's day that skyline would have been so polluted with steel industry that you couldn't SEE it)
The summer after i graduated - 2011 - some random citizen installed a wooden swing in the biggest tree at the edge of the hill, and that was the BEST until the city took it down probably for liability reasons :/ but every day for like months after work i would go sit on that swing till the sun went down.
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whatdoesshedotothem · 11 months
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Wed[nesday] 15 May 1833
8 5/..
11 3/4
P
L
rain for ab[ou]t an h[ou]r till 9 - found very gentle signs of my cousin an hour preparing
two napkins etc  put one on between three and four in the afternoon F[ahrenheit] 56° at 10 1/4 at w[hi]ch h[ou]r br[eak]f[a]st -
skim[me]d ov[e]r the courier - dawd[le]d away the morn[in]g as us[ua]l - saunt[ere]d out a lit[tle] ab[ou]t 1 alone and read[in]g a few of Volt[aire]s let[ter]s vol[ume] 2
Eliz[abe]th Dalton left us ab[ou]t 2 - so[me]ti[me] d[o]wnst[ai]rs and th[e]n w[i]th IN- [Isabella Norcliffe] in h[e]r r[oo]m and th[e]n co[me] to my own
bef[ore] 4, and wr[ote] out Mon[day] yest[erday] and so far of today till 4 1/2 - the parc[e]l arriv[e]d th[i]s morn[in]g fr[om] Shibd[e]n
forward[e]d fr[om] Edin[burgh] - sm[all] pap[e]r box cont[ainin]g 2 p[ai]r woollen kneecaps and 1 p[ai]r d[itt]o socks fr[om] Miss
Walker (knitt[e]d for me by her) and no[te] fr[om] h[e]r dat[e]d ‘Udale 2 Ap[ril] 24th 1833’ - she seems no better
in mind and surely there neither is nor perhaps out to be any prospect of our being toge
ther tho’ I shall of course expect some answer to my letter to her this day week from York -
Miss W- [Walker] begs to hear fr[om] me bef[ore] my leav[in]g Eng[lan]d ‘when do you leave Eng[lan]d? where are you go[in]g fr[om]
‘Paris? w[i]th wh[o]m do you cross the channel? - I can[no]t tell you an[y]th[in]g really fav[oura]ble of my own mind,
‘I am gett[in]g qui[te] stout, b[u]t I feel th[a]t I am n[o]t improv[in]g in health of mind, and evils seem to increase up[on]
‘me, I ha[ve] n[o]t yet been ab[le] to form one resolut[io]n as to my ret[ur]n ho[me] tho’ my a[un]t says she wishes it
but I dread the idea of returning to greater evil  all your predictions  or I ought to say your warnings
appear to have been realized in me and I get deeper in the mire every day if you saw me now I am sure you
would say I was changed and you would observe it with regret and I begin to fear that my hopes of meeting
you again renewed in heart and body to which I have hitherto faintly clung will never be fulfilled
my sister and Captain Sutherland beg me to say everything that is kind from them with their very kinds regards  accept all that friendship can
offer from myself  pray let me hear from you for I shall not forget you and whatever befalls
me you will hear of either from myself or your aunt  thro’ her at least I can gain intelligence
of you ever believe me yours faithfully and affectionately Ann Walker - dress[e]d - din[ner] at 5 1/4
made notes fr[om] Norc[liffe]s’ tour - upst[ai]rs at 10 50/.. - F[ahrenheit] 67° at 11 3/4 p.m. - an h[ou]r’s r[ai]n till 9 a.m. th[e]n fine
till ev[enin]g - rainy, windy night -
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bugslap · 3 years
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Tumblr media
GOOD MORNING CASTELIA !!
(click for better quality)
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figonas · 3 years
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As Warm As The Sun-Part 1
“When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well”
Summary: Takes place during The Wicked King pretty much right before the Queen of Mirth scene and Chapter 15. This is just a soft, fluffy response to the prompt “hug me I command it”.
Words: 1623
Rating: GA
Links: Part 2-Jude POV | AO3
A/N: Tumblr user @jurdanhell brought this prompt up to me and our initial discussion that it didn’t really fit Cardan morphed into “wait yes this is exactly Cardan behavior”. This is my first work on AO3 so kudos would be greatly appreciated, if it gets enough love I might re-write the scene from Jude’s perspective!
********
Revels all tended to blend together, an endless stream of music and alcohol that somehow left Cardan feeling as desperately alone as always even when in a room bursting with folk of all shapes and sizes. This particular revel was different, if only because Jude was still hovering around him long after she would have normally retreated to her chambers or the Court of Shadows. He could feel her eyes on him, as heavy as the weight of his crown as she stared daggers at him from her position to the side of his throne.
Ordering Jude to do anything would be ordering a knife thrust into his own back, High King or no. So Cardan merely asked Jude to attend the revel in its entirety, but he did so in front of the Living Council, several members of the Low Courts, and Locke who rose to challenge and prod Jude without needing to be asked. There was no way for her to refuse that wouldn’t be seen as backing down from his challenge, so through gritted teeth, Jude graciously accepted his invitation. He didn’t know why he had asked her, perhaps he simply wanted to annoy her in a way that would require little effort from him, or perhaps he wanted to know how she would retaliate. A small part of him whispered that he just wanted her company but he made sure to drown that part of him with plenty of wine earlier in the night. Too much wine though Cardan is loath to admit it, and now as the night winds down he’s not entirely sure he can make it back to his rooms on his own. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his guards has dragged their High King to bed and dropped him on his royal ass but Cardan dislikes the idea all the same. Moving to stand he lurches too far forward and nearly falls off the raised dais before Jude’s hand closes on the back of his cloak pulling him backward where he crashes into her solid presence. “As much as it would amuse me to watch you fall after you made me stand here all night for no reason, I’m too tired to pick you up off the floor,” Jude hisses in his ear, she throws one of his arms across her shoulders as her other arm snakes around his waist. “Dearest Jude, are you trying to take me to bed?” Cardan tries his best to wiggle his eyebrows at her but he’s too focused on his feet as they descend the dais steps and begin the long trek to his rooms. “Don’t push your luck or I’ll leave you to sleep on the floor in the middle of the burgh”. He laughs despite her threat and out of the corner of his eye he sees a small smile on Jude’s lips.
Cardan’s inebriated mind is not as trained at quashing his feelings for Jude as his sober mind is. As they make their way through the palace halls he has the sudden, sickening thought that he likes this, being embraced by Jude Duarte even if it’s only to help him to his rooms. She seems to have forgotten she’s repulsed by him, letting him lean on her as much as he needs. Cardan decides that he would get mindlessly drunk every night if it meant Jude would hold him this way but, perhaps mercifully, they make it to his rooms before he can voice this out loud. The moment she releases him he misses her warmth, her feeling of life and strength, of mortality. Before he knows what he’s saying he opens his mouth to speak. “Embrace me again,” he says, drunk and foolish, he can see the shock on her face despite her desperate attempt to hide it, but even Jude master of power and control, cannot stop the flush rising across her cheeks. Is it desire? Anger? Embarrassment? Cardan doesn’t care, he likes this Jude best; off her guard, almost susceptible to his charms but not quite, she is Jude Duarte after all. She recovers quickly, her expression cooling into something like boredom. “Go to bed Cardan” she points at the monstrously empty bed and he imagines it will be just as cold and lonely as he feels now. “But I am your king, Jude I command it,” he says with what he hopes is a playful smile, but is more than likely a fool’s grin. “So I say again, embrace me and then I will concede and go to bed”. Jude opens her mouth to speak but quickly shuts it with an audible snap of teeth.
She’s at war with herself he realizes suddenly, he can nearly see the thoughts racing in her head. He expects her to push back and fight with him, or to leave him where he stands not caring if he makes it to bed or collapses on the floor right here. Impossibly she does neither, instead, she reaches for him and wraps her arms around his midsection, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Cardan is frozen for what feels like an eternity but is only a handful of seconds as her warmth seeps into his very bones. He wraps his arms around her, returning the embrace before she changes her mind. “I’m only doing this because I’m too tired to fight with you about going to bed,” Jude mumbles softly, Cardan barely hears her above his pounding heart, but he can feel her words from where she’s pressed against his chest. He wants to tighten his grip on her to ensure himself this is real. He wants to bury his face in the crook of her neck and inhale the scent that haunts his dreams; her scent, so uniquely human, so wholly Jude. Through sheer force of will, he stops himself from indulging in either of these fantasies that would most likely only shatter this tender moment or result in him getting stabbed, he is equally disappointed at the thought of either possibility.
Jude seems to forget, if only for a moment, that it’s Cardan’s arms around her, his shoulder her cheek rests on, his neck that she tickles with her soft exhales. She relaxes just a little in a way he didn’t know she could, her palms flattening against his back, the ever-present tension leached slightly from her shoulders. He indulges in the impulse of stroking her lower back with his thumbs, he’s emboldened to tighten his grip on her just a fraction when Jude doesn’t react to the small movement. They stand in silence for several moments, Cardan’s heart racing at a worrying speed. Suddenly, Jude inhales deeply which turns into a wide yawn and she steps back rubbing the heel of her hand across one eye. “Alright, Your Majesty I indulged your wishes,” she’s interrupted by another, smaller yawn which she covers with the back of her hand. Cardan’s hands are still resting lightly on Jude’s waist, she doesn’t move from his touch. “Now to bed with you so I can get in my own. One of us has to be alert enough to run the kingdom,” she points in the direction of his bed and Cardan drops his hands. He is again shocked by how cold his room feels without her pressed against him. He quashes the urge to touch her again, he knows she will not indulge him a second time. When he turns he sways slightly, Jude rolls her eyes and places her hand on the small of his back guiding him to bed. “Careful with your orders Jude or I will tell everyone that you were kind to me,” he laughs to himself though it is not at all funny. “Though I don’t think anyone would believe me”. “You won’t remember this tomorrow anyway,” they reach the bedside where she gives him a gentle shove and he drops unceremoniously onto his too-large bed. The motion sets his head swimming. He steals one last, longing look at Jude before closing his eyes; her cheeks flushed, eyes tired, impenetrable walls lowered the tiniest bit. Cardan tucks the image away to think of when she’s gone and he’s left alone in the sea of cold blankets. “Oh Jude, loveliest of afflictions, I will remember this night for years to come,” he hears her scoff as she steps away from the bed. “We’ll see about that tomorrow,” she sounds amused as she speaks and if Cardan’s head wasn’t spinning so badly he would peel his eyes open just to see one of Jude’s rare smiles. He hears her footsteps retreating toward the door where she stops, he’s nearly overtaken with sleep when he hears her voice call softly back to him. “Goodnight Cardan”. She’s gone before he can respond and Cardan succumbs to sleep only moments later.
She’s there in his dreams as she is most nights. Cardan tries to speak to dream Jude, but the only word he can say is her name; Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude. Over and over again, he calls her name like a curse, a prayer, the last desperate words of a dying man, a humble supplicant whispering the name of an honored deity. When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well, but as he shifts under the sheets her scent wafts from the fabric of his shirt into his nostrils. He clutches the fabric tightly, inhaling deeply he smiles to himself before drifting off again to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
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scotianostra · 2 years
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November 25th 1681 General Tam Dalyell raised a regiment to suppress Covenanters which later became the Royal Scots Greys.
Also known as Bluidy Tam, General Dalyell, became notorious for his suppression of the Covenanters at the Battle of Rullion Green, in the Pentland Hills, in 1666. Little more than a thousand Protestant ‘rebels’ had marched from Dumfries towards Edinburgh, armed only with scythes, pitchforks and staves. Tam is said to have been disgusted with his soldiers after they killed men women and children, and resigned his commission.
Earlier in his life, while fighting for Charles I in the civil war he had been imprisoned after Oliver Cromwell won the Battle of Worcester. He managed to escape from the Tower of London and fled to Russia where he achieved high rank in the army of Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich, father of Peter the Great in Russia and is said to have brought back a rather nasty invention back to Scotland with him, the dreaded thumbscrews. It was his time there that gained him the other unenviable nickname “Muscovite De'il”, where he also noted while in Russia that it was much more difficult to spot Russian soldiers than traditional “British Red Coats”. Therefore he also brought back the stipulation that the Scots Greys wore grey uniforms as camouflage, which was successfully used against the Covenanters. He had also raised a regiment of infantry in 1666, but no records of the foot regiment exist today.
Another interesting legend about the man is connected with a Marble topped card table that it is said during a particularly fraught card match played between the General and the devil was thrown at Dalyell , but missed and ended going out the window, landing in a nearby pond, a marble table was indeed found when the pond dried up 200 years later. The cards, goblet and spoon, supposedly used in the game are displayed in the house. The General is said to have told the Devil, who threatened to blow down his house and its walls, that “I will build me a turret at every corner to pin down my walls”.
In August 1685 Lieutenant-General Tam Dalyell died at his town house just off John Street in the burgh of the Canongate where he lived with his fourth wife Marion Abercrombie. But the story didn’t end there…….
Following military tradition his boots were hung in reverse from the saddle of his horse while his martial baton was carried on the top of the coffin. Troopers of the Royal Scots Dragoons, the red-coated Scots Guards and six field guns escorted his funeral procession. Watched by hundreds of citizens, who lined the route, the sombre military procession with muffled drums beating wound its way slowly up the hill through Portsburgh leaving the city by the west gate, now known as West Port.
“Old Tom of Muscovy” as he had been nick named by King Charles II was buried beside his parents in the family vault at Abercorn Church not far from the ancestral home, The Binns. Tam’s third son John took his father’s cavalry boots back to his home at Lingo in Fife but he was forced to return them to The Binns. Every night when he took them off they awakened the sleeping household as they marched around the house. It was said that if cold water was poured into them, it would quickly come to a boil!!!
Although he was long gone, Tam’s legend continues to grow. On pitch black nights the General mounted on a white charger could be seen entering his estate by the Black Lodge situated on the road between Bo’ ness and Queensferry. Clattering across the ruined bridge over the Errack Burn, the ghostly horse and rider would gallop up the old road to the Binns.
More on Tam in a few days.
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es46 · 19 days
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Gone in the Sky 3
- Third part and ending of the muse inspired by @queep1 - Two or three years? Elesa can't quite say. Her heart's adrift and the days don't matter. She still remembers that day, the burning shame of not telling her how she truly felt. It lurks in every dream, behind every thought. But Elesa thinks she's getting better. She works her shifts at the airport, handling baggage, pointedly never looking at the missing poster with her smiling face on it. She takes long walks and watches the airplanes come and go. She avoids the Celestial Tower. Elesa's socialising again. Burgh and the twins visit sometimes, spending evenings playing card games and eating junk food. They make her smile, make her laugh. It's closer to how she used to be. Sometimes Lacey visits, her phone full of photos of adorable Pokemon. Lacey makes Elesa smile, makes her laugh. She still has a contact in Kalos, a fairy fashion designer, and promises Lacey to introduce her at some point. She has tea with Miles sometimes. He knows what she's lost better than anyone, and Elesa won't deny he has it worse than her. It keeps Elesa grounded. Miles knows what it's like, waking up and seeing no news, clinging to memories, clawing for any guidance. Elesa takes comfort in the solidarity of grief. It's what she would have wanted, for Elesa to share her pain, to not shut herself away. Elesa thinks she's getting better. Until, one day, Miles says a single sentence that breaks her all over again. "I've decided that we'll have a funeral." The air rushes out of her lungs. Twisting. Tormented. She staggers back, unable to believe that he could do this. Elesa can't bear to imagine any notion that she was truly gone. Miles tries to explain but Elesa shoves past him, running for the fields. She collapses behind the hanger, her old gym, and cries until the sun has set. Elesa doesn't socialise again. She ignores her phone, any knocks at the door. She leaves the airport, takes a new job working a night shift at the fields where no-one would look for her. Deep down she knows it's destructive, but Elesa can't care. She had thought Miles understood, but now even he has abandoned her. All of them have abandoned her. When the day comes, Elesa goes to the Celestial Tower. Sat on the edge, she can see them in the distance by the airport, basked in the light of the setting sun. Of course they would have the coffin put to rest there. She had always loved the planes. Elesa looks down, sees the ground below. Perhaps, if she was brave enough to fly, just once, she would see her again... Suddenly terrified, Elesa scrambles away from the edge. Breathing deeply, she turns and stumbles towards the bell. Tears run down her cheeks as Elesa rests her forehead on the cold metal. "Please, just tell me what to do. I don't know what to do." The sun dips lower. The sky begins to darken. Elesa pushes the bell again, but it doesn't ring. Bewilderment befuddles her grief. She shoves it, and still there is no ring. The bell was said to soothe the spirits. Elesa supposes it is quiet because her spirit is beyond soothing. There is no hope now. She is gone. She was always gone and Elesa never saw past her own guilt. Elesa sinks to her knees and cries. She thought she was getting better, but it was only to break harder- "Don't cry, Elesa." Time stills. Elesa slowly turns. A woman is stood at the altar's stairway, dressed in grey, a strange symbol on the chest. Her red hair is dirty, her outfit frayed, but the light in her blue eyes is radiant. The woman smiles, wracked with emotion, as beautiful as the last day Elesa saw her. "Surely... you'll forgive me for taking so long?" There's a thousand things Elesa should say. A hundred things she should do. Yet, what else would be more fitting? "Y-You don't have to call me Shirley, Skyla." Skyla laughs, cries, and when Elesa rushes to embrace her, she feels the warmth and comfort that proves she is real. As the sun sets, the two stayatop the tower, lost in their embrace. The bell quietly rings.
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rimouskis · 3 years
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there's a joy in feeling like your home is in multiple places but there's also an inherent ache to it because you can never fully embody any of those places. I would not be the person I am today had I not moved to the burgh and I'm so happy to be here and to have this phase of my life here, but there are lots of quiet moments that feel loud—my father just texted me about the annual town parade. our dog is getting older. my entire family will be vacationing at my aunt and uncle's lakehouse for memorial day (without me, of course—I don't have the vacation time). I miss cooking for my parents every night like I would when I was living at home. my sisters still haven't visited me out here. I've met my high-school-best-friend's fiancee only seven or eight times, and I'm going to be in their wedding. just little moments that aren't much in the moment when I'm living a fun, urban, independent life, but I've always really loved where I came from, and as I've gotten older I've realized just how much I like my family... and it's an impossible war to win, just a see saw of learning to make my way and figuring out how often I can afford air fare or tolls and the vacation time to go "back home."
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whockeywhore · 4 years
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Between Two 18
I sat up at the sound of glass breaking and reached out for Jamie. His side of the bed was cool and empty and I called out for him. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, a dark patch of sweat blooming under the collar of his shirt. 
“Baby, that vase with the naked ladies, were you gonna bring that back to the Burgh or donate it?” 
“Donate.” 
“Sweet.” He turned to leave and I heard him yell down the hall. “It’s all good guys, she didn’t want to keep it.” 
I slipped out of bed and pulled a pair of leggings on, tiptoeing into the hall. 
“Well look who’s finally up!” 
“And right after all the heavy lifting is done. Typical Grace.” 
Braden and Alex shared a laugh between themselves before heading down the stairs, each carrying the end of a coffee table. I watched them go and turned into the kitchen to find Jake and Michael wrapping plates in old newspaper. Nicke was sitting at the head of the table with his nose buried in one. 
“When was the last time the Kings won the cup?” 
“2014.” 
“You need to throw stuff away more Grace. Are you familiar with the teachings of Marie Kondo?” 
“Cal never liked to toss anything. I’m pretty sure he still has my prom dress somewhere in here.” 
“Yeah, Jake tried it on. Very provocative for a high school prom.” 
I leaned back against the counter and watched the scene unfold, pouring myself a cup of coffee and taking a big sip before I spoke. 
“What are you guys doing here?” 
Jake held up a covered plate before tossing it into an open box. “Helping you pack.” 
“But-” 
“Tom called us. He said you were packing up your dad’s place and needed some help.” 
Nicke dropped his paper and nodded. “He promised dinner. And beer.” 
I nodded and left the room, bounding downstairs to find Jamie. He was kneeling next to a giant oak desk in the den and had a strip of measuring tape lining the edge, his brow furrowed in confusion. 
“How the hell did Cal get this in here?” 
“He built it when we moved in.” He let out a long groan and stood, rubbing his lower back gingerly. “You guys have gotten a lot of work done. When did they get here?” 
“Around seven.” My watch read eleven-thirty and a bit of guilt crept over me. “You were sacked out.” 
"You should have woken me up. I feel bad, I haven’t done anything.” 
“But you’re so cute when you’re sleeping- aside from the snoring. If you wanna help, you can start by taking this apart.” He tapped the desktop with a screwdriver and I nodded. 
“Aye-aye captain. And I don’t snore.” 
“Liar!” 
I swatted at him as he leaned down to kiss me, pressing his lips to my forehead for a few seconds. He caught my hand and shook his head before leaving me to my job. The desk was impossibly heavy and I ran my fingers over the divots in it, noting the notches Cal had carved into the edge during phone calls. It was a bad habit developed after I’d gotten him a pocket knife for Christmas one year. I’d caught him whittling away during one of his conference calls a few days later. 
“You know you look just like your mother when you do that.” 
“Do what?” 
“Cross your arms and tap your toe like that. You have her eyes.” He motioned for me to come stand next to him and I did, studying the paperwork on his desk. He’d doodled a crude horse on the side and I couldn’t help but laugh. “What? What’s so funny?” 
“You can’t draw, daddy.” 
“Now you sound just like her!” 
“You alright?” Tom was leaning against the door frame watching me and I nodded, dropping my head to wipe my eyes. 
“Yeah, just thinking.” 
“About what?” 
“My dad.” Tom pulled an armchair across the room and dropped into it, leaning forward on his elbows. “You know he built this desk.” 
“Really?” 
“Mhmm. A few weeks after my mom passed, I came home to a huge pile of wood on the front porch. Had to climb through a window just to get in. Worked on it nonstop for a month, round the clock. Our neighbors called the cops twice because he was using a table saw at midnight.”
“Sounds like Cal.” 
“He was so proud of it,” I reached out and pushed it a bit, nodding to the short leg on my side, “Never would admit it wobbled.” 
“He was a good guy, Grace. A great guy.” 
“He carved their initials into it.” I tugged the center drawer out and felt blindly for the heart he’d drawn, closing my eyes as I found the CD+MJ. Calvin Dillard and Marie Johannsen.
“Grace-” He came around the desk and knelt down, pulling me into a tight hug as my emotions got the best of me. The weight of the weekend, going through my father’s whole life and deciding what was worth keeping from the house I’d grown up in, sat heavy on my shoulders and I collapsed against him with a sob. 
Tom stroked my back gently and I curled into his lap. “I don’t wanna leave, Tom. I don’t want to move to Pittsburgh.” 
“You do, Gracie. I know you do.” 
“I don’t. I want to stay here and I want everything to go back to the way it was a-and I... I want my dad back. I miss him so much.” 
“I miss him too. But look, look at me for a minute.” He lifted my chin until I met his eyes. “You can’t bring him back Gracie. Staying here won’t bring him back. You have a life waiting for you in Pittsburgh.”
I sniffed and he reached for a tissue from the desk, letting me wipe my nose before he pressed on. 
“You’ve got your wedding and your new job. You’ve got Jamie. Everything is waiting up there for you and keeping this house, staying in Washington, isn’t going to change that.” 
He let me fall apart for a few minutes and I balled my hands into fists in his t-shirt, angry and sad and drowning in nostalgia. I pulled myself back together and sat up, retying my ponytail and wiping my face.  
“I got mascara on your shirt.”
“Don’t worry about it. I borrowed it from Braden this morning after he picked me up last night. I spent your cab money on beer.” 
“That’s my boy.” 
He wrapped an arm around me and I fell against him, taking a minute to savor the feeling of being wrapped in his arms again. My eyes burned with more tears and I realized what made all of this sting so badly. In the past few years, through all the trips I’d taken and games I’d gone to, he’d become home to me. Tom was the constant I had clung to after my dad’s diagnosis. He’d come to appointments and gone to visit Cal with me, even on his own sometimes. 
Every time things had gotten bad, every shitty prognosis or rough night, Tom had been there. For me.
“I’m gonna miss you. So much.” 
His voice was heavy with emotion as he agreed. “We’ll see each other. At games, on holidays. We’ll spend by-week together come January.” 
I bit back the urge to argue that it wouldn’t be the same and opted for taking his hand in mine and squeezing it. He returned the gesture before clearing his throat and standing up. He held out a hand to help me to my feet and I took it, falling into him again as soon as we were upright. 
“Hey guys, we were thinking about heading out for some lunch. Are you-” Braden stopped as he saw us and I turned my head to look as he stepped into the den. “What’s going on?” 
“Just hashing some shit out.” 
“So we’re... all good?” We both nodded and he came closer, wrapping his arms around the two of us with a sigh of relief. “Thank god. I hate it when you two fight.” 
I weaseled my way out of his grasp when I began sweating and he laughed. 
“What were you saying about lunch?” 
“We were going to order some pizza. Just about done upstairs.” 
“Why don’t we go out? There’s nothing in the fridge and no place to sit anyway. There’s a great parlor a few blocks away.” 
He nodded and mumbled about going to tell everyone else, leaving Tom and I alone once again. 
“So you and I are good?” 
“You tell me.” I wiped at the mascara stains on his shirt and frowned. “You should soak this before it sets.” 
“Gracie Lou, if you want to see me shirtless, all you have to do is ask.” He pulled the t-shirt off and tossed it in my direction. “You know I’ve got love for you.” 
He ran his fingers over his abs and gave me a wink. “You like what you see?” 
"Shut up, Tom.” I started towards the laundry room with a smile on my face. “I can’t believe I missed you.” 
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Pokémon: The World Where Ghetsis Won
Oneshot about the alternate reality where Ghetsis was victorious over Unova in his first attempt. Based on his Rainbow Rocket persona as seen in Pokémon Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon. 
Warnings: Violence
Notes: Based on my version of Hilbert as presented in my novelization of Pokemon Black (Tumblr, AO3, FFN)
Find it on AO3 and FFN
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Hil clutched the stone tightly against his chest. It emanated a soft, yellow glow from its smooth, silvery-white surface that warmed his fingertips to the touch. Yet, with the warmth came a cold feeling of dread that crept through his veins and slowly turned them to ice. His hands began to shiver. He overlooked a lake with round, wide brown eyes. Noodle, his trusty Servine, nuzzled his hand and tilted his head. His red eyes were upturned in concern. Hil took one look at him and then hugged his knees close to his face. His hand that held the stone fell limp at his right side.
“I can’t do it, Noodle,” he blubbered to him through the fabric of his pants. “I’m not strong enough. I’m no h-hero.”
Noodle nosed his way between Hil’s chest and his thights. Hil left go of his legs a little to give the Servine more room. As Noodle curled up in his lap, Hil’s eyes watered something fierce and he slowly let go of the Light Stone in his right hand, turning his attention instead to the Pokémon curled up in his lap. Noodle’s comfort was warm and welcome; it tore him from the dark, sinister reality that he would have to face Team Plasma’s leader, N, alone, as a hero of Unova. He hugged Noodle tighter and tighter, feeling the cool touch of his leafy body against his own.
Then he felt his right hand brush the Light Stone to his right, and he watched in horror as it started to roll, away toward the lake, and then plopped into its depths. In a blind panic, he shoved Noodle out of his lap and staggered over to the shore, plunging his head into the bitterly cold water. A Basculin then rushed at his face and caused him to jump away from the water. He had been upset, but he had intended to at least give fighting N a try! Had he really lost the Light Stone in such a stupid way?
Noodle dove at the water and shot several volleys of Razor Leaf attacks below the water, but it was no match for the swarm of Basculin that soon began to nibble at its leafy body. He hobbled back out of the water with chunks of flesh missing from his tail and his upper back. He looked up at Hil apologetically and Hil scooped him up, holding him tightly again. “No, no, Noodle,” he whispered, “it’s okay. This is not your fault at all. I shouldn’t have ever come here, I should have gone straight to the League, and…” he gave a shuddery breath. “It’ll be okay… It’ll be okay…”
He pulled his Xtransceiver free from his other pocket and frantically dialed for Cheren, Bianca, and Professor Juniper. He was going to need all the help he could get.
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The castle was far too quiet. The sprawling room in front of him was eerily empty save for the gentle trickling sounds of water from the pools below the main floor and from the occasional shuffling of feet that came from the small group of grunts gathered, as well as the three Sages, Ghetsis, Bronius, and Giallo. Disappointed, N had to admit he had hoped for better than this. He had hoped somebody, anybody, would have showed up to the castle and try to stop him. Someone to show him that there was another way. As he shifted in the throne overlooking the castle, Zekrom standing proudly at his side, his mind wandered. He thought of the many Pokémon he had met along the way of his recent excursions into Unova’s heartland who enjoyed their trainers’ company and as he had told Hil back in Mistralton, it did break his heart somewhat that he would have to separate Pokémon from trainers who were good friends to their Pokémon.
So, he had hoped Cheren, or anyone, really, would have arrived to prove him wrong. But if nobody could even reach the throne room of the castle, then nobody had the convictions to prove him wrong. It was a sad but not unexpected realization. He knew what he had to do was right, however solemn it made him feel.
The sound of staggering, shuffling footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He and Zekrom turned their heads slightly to look at the approaching figure. A man cloaked in violet and gold robes, a gleaming, angular red monocle, a lame arm; this was N’s adoptive father, Ghetsis. His failing body was a dastardly disguise. N could speak from experience Ghetsis was many things, but frail was not something one could even fantasize about describing him as. “Our Lord N,” Ghetsis said sharply, “it seems your chosen hero will not make it.”
“It would seem nobody has the conviction necessary to oppose me,” N said in melancholy agreement as he nodded. “I knew there had been a probability, a chance, of that happening. I had just hoped somebody would…”
Even from his throne high above the main floor, N could see Ghetsis’ lip twitch. “You are to give your inaugural speech now,” Ghetsis said calmly. “Our scientists have assumed control over all of Unova’s television stations. Today, Lord N, you set Pokémon free of their suffering by telling all of Unova to release them.”
N raised his chin and narrowed his eyes with noble determination. “Yes, Father,” he said softly as he rose from his throne. Although N’s attention had been drawn elsewhere and so he did not notice, upon being called ‘Father,’ Ghetsis’s lips twisted into a horrible, lopsided grimace thanks to his partially paralyzed face. The elderly man’s body shivered in an anger none of the rest of Team Plasma would have understood. Not N nor even any of the Seven Sages. Ghetsis had been waiting decades for his plan to come to fruition and now that it was finally reaching its success, he found it harder and harder to keep a lid on his true intentions, and his true feelings toward N.
But he knew he could not divulge his true desires just yet. He needed N just a little longer to guilt the people of Unova to release their Pokémon through convincing words. As much as it angered him, he understood that nobody would release their Pokémon willingly if they used force. N’s gentle, passionate words would get him results, regardless of whether he truly understood why or not.
Despite the hero N had chosen not showing up here, however, Ghetsis knew better than to assume that thorn in his side was gone for good. After N was led to the appropriate room in the castle to broadcast his speech by Bronius and Giallo, Ghetsis watched with careful calculation. Once N was out of earshot, he gave the familiar, yet still eerie command: “Shadow Triad, come to me.”
Within seconds the trio of bodyguards appeared, and they flanked him on all sides except directly in front of him. “Yes, Lord Ghetsis?” one of them asked tentatively.
“Find the hero and his friends that N was hoping would show up here,” Ghetsis said coldly, “and kill them. Leave no possible opposition alive.”
“Understood,” a different member of the Triad whispered. Just like that, they were gone again. Ghetsis followed N to the room where he would make his live speech across all of Unova’s television channels. He wanted to oversee the speech and ensure that N stuck to the script. Now, as the true ‘king’ of Team Plasma, Ghetsis was a little worried N would grow bolder and attempt to buck Ghetsis’ control. It would take far more careful manipulation from this point forward to keep his tool in check.
  Within two weeks of Team Plasma seizing control of Unova, they had traversed the region, hitting almost every established town and making more public speeches, and trainers were releasing Pokémon by the dozens. All Pokémon in the computerized storage system had been seized by Team Plasma’s scientists and stored in a private system of their own. N appeared at each and every speech as the face of the movement. His voice, quick and efficient, was punctuated by a determined and triumphant air that permeated gathered crowds like an airborne virus, swaying them to his view easily. N should have felt victorious. Yet, everywhere he traveled, all he saw was devastation.
Gym Leaders had all but disappeared overnight. In Nacrene City, nobody could find Lenora, despite a raid made by Team Plasma members on her museum in a bid to draw her out. The triplets in Striaton City had done a similar disappearing act. Burgh had been spotted but had escaped their grasp by disappearing into the Castelia Sewers, along with quite a few other frightened civilians. Team Plasma agents had been sent within to hunt them down and draw them out, but to no avail as of yet. Elesa had stood her ground and then escaped on her Zebstrika while the Team Plasma agents sent after her recovered. Clay merely locked his city up and waged a nearly one-man war on Team Plasma’s efforts, utilizing a terrifying mix of machinery and Pokémon. Skyla had fled with her airplane and nobody had seen her since. Brycen, much like Lenora and the triplets, had all but vanished, and Drayden, his apprentice Iris, and former champion Alder had retreated along with most of Opelucid City to a small but well-defended village north of Opelucid that primarily used Dragon-type Pokémon as its choice weaponry.
Not only did the Gym Leaders’ refusal to cooperate cause unrest and inflict unnecessary pain on Pokémon, but watching regular trainers release their Pokémon had been far more difficult than he could imagine. Everywhere he went, he was assailed with the thoughts and feelings of distraught, devastated Pokémon. Some had even sought him out and made sure he knew of their anger and pain. How could he feel victorious about saving Pokémon if he had so many telling him every single day he had done the exact opposite? That he had ruined their lives? He could tell his personal partners felt the same. Zoroark was disappointed in the state of the world. Zekrom began to grow angry at Team Plasma and primarily, Ghetsis, feeling they were betraying the ideal Zekrom and N had sought. N couldn’t help but agree.
Every time the king of Team Plasma observed his father, however, a heavy stone weighed in his stomach. His mouth would feel like cotton and words became difficult to string together. Having learned common tongues as a secondhand language anyway, they were already difficult to assemble, and the nervousness that flowed whenever he spoke to Ghetsis only exacerbated the issue. He tried to ignore it at first. Consider it growing pains, he had told himself. But the misery didn’t seem to end…
Within a few short months of Team Plasma’s ownership, almost every citizen in Unova no longer had personal Pokémon except for those involved in Team Plasma’s affairs, which was to say most people within Team Plasma still had partner Pokémon of some sort. N had finally been driven to anger when he discovered secretive Team Plasma agents, dressed in more modest, black outfits that almost resembled the Shadow Triad’s except they didn’t show skin, were re-capturing most of the freed Pokémon that wandered into Unova’s hinterland. This had not been the future he had fought for!
He had confronted Ghetsis once they returned to the castle surrounding the Pokémon League. Aside from Colress, who had been handing Ghetsis a deep black staff with a draconian sculpture on its handle, they had been completely alone in that room. The throne room often remained empty except for Ghetsis and N and whoever they wished to see. N stormed up to Ghetsis with purpose, thoroughly fed up with what had become increasingly more and more apparent as a lie.
“Father!” N declared as he stopped just a few feet away. “This is not the future I had promised!”
Ghetsis and Colress exchanged a look. Ghetsis took the staff from Colress and waved him away. The scientist shot Ghetsis a dirty glare but pushed his glasses up smugly and stepped away. Ghetsis took a deep breath and licked his lips as he looked N over. N didn’t like the calculating look in his father’s eyes. “Yes, Lord N?” Ghetsis asked quietly.
“Do not call me that!” N huffed. “I am no Lord, I am not your hero, this is not the future I fought for. I allowed Pokémon to be hurt for this future and instead of liberation, Pokémon are being hurt more and more by the day and your subordinates are catching them for their own personal use still!”
“N, this is a process,” Ghetsis said through gritted teeth. His crimson eyes narrowed darkly. “It’s not easy right now, but in the future, Pokémon will be entirely free of humans.”
“Your subordinates catching and using Pokémon that have been forced to sever from their beloved trainers is not a necessary part of the process!” N spat as he squared his shoulders. A terrible truth was slowly dawning on him, but he didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to believe anything other than what he was worried was happening. “Father…” N paused and breathed deeply. “Is Team Plasma working to liberate Pokémon for their sake, or for Team Plasma’s—or more specifically, your—gain?”
Colress clicked his tongue and N glanced at him, and then back at Ghetsis.
“Perhaps the education I gave you was too much,” Ghetsis mused. He gripped his staff tightly in his unscathed and uncovered arm, and then rapidly raised and slammed it to the floor again. N felt a strange burst of energy overcome him, but not a pleasant one; rather, it felt like a small electrical shock that made his muscles heavy and difficult to move. Ghetsis glowered at N knowingly. “As our king, perhaps it is best I advise you honestly from now on.” Ghetsis then smirked. “There is no reason to separate people from Pokémon, N. People and Pokémon together can achieve great things they cannot do alone. That is fact.”
N gasped and took a step back. He tried to find something to say, but no words would leave his mouth.
“And truth be told,” Ghetsis continued, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people having Pokémon. Except for the fact it gives them an avenue to rise up and fight me. I have spent far too much of my life working at this for a freak without a human heart such as you to ruin it for me.” Ghetsis suddenly pushed away part of his cloak, revealing his partially mangled arm; it trembled and convulsed in his attempt to raise it, but Ghetsis was able to grab hold of N’s necklace all the same, pulling him until Ghetsis had his mouth inches from N’s ear. N staggered in surprise, but his intense stare never wavered. “This is my world, and you are just a tool living in it, like every other Pokémon in the world,” Ghetsis growled. “Is that clear?”
N’s mind was reeling, but he writhed under Ghetsis’ grasp, and when he couldn’t break free of Ghetsis’ frighteningly strong hold, N kicked away Ghetsis’ newfound cane. It destabilized him enough to force him to let go and N stumbled backward. He heaved for breath and shook his head at Ghetsis. “That’s not true!” N hollered. “You can’t be serious!”
But N knew he was serious. Ghetsis did not joke. Colress looked N over analytically as he came to terms with the truth. Ghetsis managed to haul himself back to his feet after a few seconds and he practically bared his teeth at N. “You!” he snarled in a breathless voice, “You are nothing more but my tool! You have no control now! You are no hero! There are no heroes! Zekrom, Reshiram, they are just Pokémon all the same! You are a disrespectful, horrible excuse for a human being—because you’re the same as them!” Ghetsis hissed.
N straightened himself out and regained his composure. He set his jaw as he looked at his father. “You are wrong,” N said in a quivering tone. It felt so strange and difficult to tell Ghetsis that he was wrong. Keenly, he became aware that he had never said anything remotely like this to his father before. “Zekrom chose me! We are friends! Zekrom recognized me as Unova’s new hero!”
“What or who it chooses means nothing,” Ghetsis jeered, “because it’s a tool! Anyone with the right training can use a tool! Even a freak like you!”
N tensed at the words but stood strong. “You led me to believe the words of all people were lies besides yours, but yours are no better!” N retorted. “You tried to make it look like the rest of the world was full of abuse, and yet you stand here before me, and lie for your own gain!” N stomped a foot. The gravity of the situation was taking a moment to sink in, but as it settled, he couldn’t begin to describe the hatred that washed over him. He had been utterly and completely used, and Pokémon were suffering because of it!
…And people, good people, were suffering as well…
“What happened to the other hero?” N demanded. “And his friends? Cheren, Hil, that girl Bianca? What became of them?”
Colress gave a snicker that tore both N and Ghetsis’ attention away. He blinked at their stares and shrugged. “Oh, no, don’t let me drag you out of this lovely father-son moment,” he laughed, “I am just surprised the great Lord N here has not yet figured it out.”
“Keep your mouth shut, or else!” Ghetsis threatened him.
Colress merely rolled his eyes. “We don’t go there, Ghetsis, and you know why.”
“What became of them?” N demanded again.
“They were dealt with like the threats to Team Plasma they were,” Ghetsis answered dryly.
N felt as if he had been struck with a physical blow with the way the wind left his lungs. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Y-you can’t mean that you—”
“Yes,” Ghetsis snapped, “yes, I did. Threats to Team Plasma are taken seriously.” Ghetsis gave a slack-jawed, crazed grin that unsettled N deeply. “Do you want to be a threat to Team Plasma, freak?”
N thought about it for a minute. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. No, it would be downright foolish to say he wasn’t; Ghetsis was terrifying in every sense of the word. Even before his discoveries in the recent months, he had known not to disobey his father from a very young age. He had ignored all the warning signs over the years for the sake of getting to help his true friends, the Pokémon who had raised him, and the broken creatures that he had come to know over the years—the ones whose hearts were so scarred they would never heal. On top of the fear from confronting Ghetsis, he also had mountainous guilt that practically suffocated him. He had helped Ghetsis build this world, after all; how could he have been so blind?
All of that, however, was precisely why he couldn’t stand down. N blinked and drew in a long breath. “Yes,” N growled, “I do. I am Unova’s hero whether you like it or not, Father, and I will fight you on that until my last breath if I must. I am done being your tool!”
“Then you will fight me until your last breath!” Ghetsis shouted. He slammed that cane again, taking a considerable amount of effort to raise in the first place, and added hoarsely, “Shadow Triad, come to me!”
“Zekrom, help me!” N exclaimed as he reached for the dragon’s Poké Ball. He tossed it, but it did not open, and his friend did not appear in front of him. Alarmed, N dove to try to grab the Poké Ball back, to prevent Ghetsis or any of his goons from grabbing hold of it, but he felt an intense pressure on his back and his shirt became a collar as it yanked him away from where the Poké Ball had landed. He landed on his rear and looked up to see the imposing figures of the Shadow Triad looming over him.
N’s eyes darted around the room until they locked onto Ghetsis’ cane. Colress had been fiddling with it moments before N had walked into the room. N turned his attention to Colress. “Why are you helping him do this?” N asked desperately. “What do you possibly have to gain from this?”
“More funding and time to research,” Colress answered with a non-committal shrug.
N glared at them all as he tried to get back to his feet. A member of the Shadow Triad retrieved Zekrom’s Poké Ball from the floor and handed it to Ghetsis. The other two members latched onto one of N’s arms each and held him so tightly he could feel their nails digging at his skin. Just like that, the surroundings of the castle left them, and Ghetsis, N, and the Shadow Triad were alone in an eerie, chilly forest of pine trees. N saw a couple of Absol curiously peak out from some bushes nearby. He shook his head vigorously at them and begged them in an inhuman chuffing sound to leave. Alarmed at his warning, they took him at his word and fled. The rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs told him that more Pokémon had been around nearby and had also decided to leave at his warning.
“Team Plasma has no more need of your speeches,” Ghetsis sneered, “no more need of your ridiculous parlor trick. Shadow Triad! Execute him!”
N threw all his weight into a flipping motion that ripped him free of the two Shadow Triad members’ holds on his arms, and he wildly kicked his legs as he rolled away from them. “Shadow Triad, listen to me! I am N, Team Plasma’s king and Ghetsis’ son! You take orders from me as well, remember?” N howled as the Triad descended upon him. N’s exclamation gave them all pause. They stopped in their tracks and exchanged slow looks amongst one another, and then finally looked to Ghetsis.
“Don’t just stand there!” Ghetsis barked. “Take care of him!”
“We cannot,” one of them answered softly and shook his head.
“He carries your blood,” another whispered.
N blinked incredulously at that Shadow Triad member. “What do you mean?” N asked anxiously. “He found me and he is my father, but we are not blood-related…” N trailed off as he realized the only proof he had of that statement were words Ghetsis and his other two ‘adoptive’ children—N’s childhood caretakers and sisters—Anthea and Concordia, who were likely equally as duped as he was. N panted for breath as the situation continued to get more and more dire, more and more upsetting. “Father, are we related by blood?”
“Yes,” Ghetsis answered swiftly, “but I am not your father, you freak of nature! Shadow Triad, your oath is with me and me only, I renounce the extension of my mastery to N!”
The Shadow Triad still did not budge. It was the third who spoke this time. “This does not change the fact that he carries your blood,” he said pointedly. “We cannot bring harm to him.”
“Then I’ll just have to finish the job myself!” Ghetsis spat after the Triad. The three men simply took a few steps back and watched with the usual, deadpan expression. N had to wonder how he intended to do that but found his question answered when that Ghetsis lunged at him and that cane found N’s open mouth, striking him in the teeth. N yelped and hit the ground on his back. He didn’t have time to assess the damage because in seconds, Ghetsis clambered on top of him and pressed the staff against N’s throat. His frail right arm shook and twitched under the pressure, and N scrabbled at Ghetsis’ face and hands with his own, writhing beneath him. Ghetsis gave a furious yell as N continued to fight him and managed to succeed and pushing the cane up and off his trachea enough to allow himself air again. “I created you and I will destroy you here!” Ghetsis screamed.
N, hands clutching at the staff for dear life, curled his lips into a snarl. “I cannot let the world fall into the hands of someone such as you!” he hissed through gritted teeth. With a surge of strength, he managed to throw Ghetsis off of himself altogether. He seized his father’s cane and held it out threateningly. N’s throat throbbed with pain and he was panting heavily, but he was still alive, and now he had the staff. Ghetsis’ crippled frame would surely give up on him before he managed to overpower him, wouldn’t it…?
Ghetsis seemed intent to prove N wrong as he rushed at him again, this time with his hands outstretched and going for N’s throat. N slapped his arms away with the cane and staggered away from him, turning in circles. N shook his head. This was insane. “Father, listen to me!” N demanded breathlessly. “We can still fix this! We can truly release Pokemon, and release the ones that Team Plasma holds captive! It is not too late!”
Ghetsis stalked about N in a way that reminded N of a Liepard circling its prey. “I have come too far to let you destroy everything I have built!” Ghetsis snarled. He abruptly launched himself at N in a way that shouldered N to the ground and there they wrestled again. Ghetsis took a fistful of his gold and violet cloak and plastered it across N’s face. He used his left hand to stuff a significant amount of the fabric into N’s mouth and was able to use it as a restraint. N may have been swifter, stronger, and younger, but he had almost never been in a physical altercation in his life. His lack of experience painfully showed.
Ghetsis planted his knees on N’s thighs, keeping him from being able to get up, and his arms were gripping the cloth over N’s face, which as a consequence made N’s hands disoriented as he scrabbled and fought to try to throw Ghetsis back off. “You are no hero and you will not die like a hero!” Ghetsis boasted as he gripped the cloth tighter and tighter around N’s face. N dug nails into Ghetsis’ arms until they drew blood. “Maybe if you would beg…” Ghetsis grinned.
“No, I will… will not… At least… I… fought for… making the world better…” N puffed through ragged, pained breaths, muffled by the cloth in his mouth. “My… only regret is… helping you!”
“Even in death, you mock me!” Ghetsis snarled. “How dare you continue to speak as if you have won, you freak!”
“You’re the… freak without… the human heart,” N hissed in his dying breath. He knew he was defeated and there was no way out of it for him at this point. His head swam and blackness deliriously circled his vision. Admittedly, he was quite upset he had not managed to stop Ghetsis as he had intended, but he would not let Ghetsis know that. Maybe he couldn’t actually win, but if he could get under Ghetsis’ skin, then perhaps he could destabilize Ghetsis’ control.
Ghetsis screamed and clamped both his hands around N’s neck, the cloth of his cloak still covering N’s face, and he squeezed. He squeezed as hard as he could, all the while howling at the top of his lungs in an inhuman expression of rage and didn’t stop until N’s body fell still below him and he felt something give way in N’s throat. He then collapsed on top of N in a heap.
He had won, and yet, fury still made Ghetsis’ heart pound wildly. He couldn’t believe N’s audacity to call HIM the freak without a human heart! N was the freak! He was the mistake, the tool used to carve out his new world! He had raised him from nothing and made him king and rather than accept that cushy lifestyle, N had chosen to fight him to… to the death! He growled as he shakily tried to pick himself up off of N. He had been unable to force N into submission, even as he was strangling the life from him, and that made his blood boil. “Shadow Triad, help me!” Ghetsis gasped when he found he could not get up. The fight with N had sapped all of his strength.
He noted that they moved slowly over to him and when they hauled him from the ground, they did so by his partially paralyzed arm, sending waves of pain firing through Ghetsis’ body. He howled in pain and glowered at them once to his feet. “How dare you! You know better!” Ghetsis shot at them.
The three members of the Shadow Triad simply looked at him. Their usual deadpanned expression was different somehow. In their narrow eyes he thought he saw for the first time contempt. Ghetsis curled his lips and said, “Know your place, Shadow Triad! Now, take me back to the castle. Leave him here. We’re out in the wilderness beyond the Giant Chasm, nobody will find him here anyway.”
“As you command,” a member of the Shadow Triad whispered. He spoke so quietly it was almost difficult for Ghetsis to understand him. The three members of the Shadow Triad descended upon Ghetsis and then teleported him back to the castle as he had asked.
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Wednesday 2 April 1834
8 20/..
12 10/..
One goodish one last night and then fell asleep 
Rain in the night and recently this morning but fair though rather hazy and Fahrenheit 54˚ at 8 20/.. a.m. Miss Walker up early – ready for Washington at 8 1/4 a.m. told her to give him orders to let Mallinson have the toll-house at £63 for his the mason’s work the whole to be arched cellared at £5 extra = £68 for his whole job – breakfast at 9 20/.. – wrote out yesterday – and wrote and sent by Thomas little note to ‘Mrs Williamson Register office for servants Colliergate’ to tell her to tell Francis Cotham I should not inquire his character (of Mr Robert Heap of Bradford) as I had given up all thought of hiring him – had a flippant young man at [aetat] 20 from Mrs Blades’s to speak to me – he asked £20 per annum – so on that glad of the excuse to send him off without more ado –
Miss Walker and I off at 11 1/4 to Duncombe Park by Easingwold – at Easingwold at 12 57/.. off from there at 1 5/.. – at 1 35/.. alighted at Creyke or Crake castle – very fine extensive view from the hill on which castle stands – an oblong building (now cow-house- barn and hay loft) remaining and a few traces of older building – glad we went – neat good church near the castle and below that the very neat nice village – 
From Creyke by a hilly road through the Park to Duncombe Park at 4 20/.. – an hour seeing the house – the Dog of Alcibiades (price 1000 guineas) and the Discobolus (price much more) in the handsome hall – both very fine pieces of statuary – except the Diane à la biche, the discobolus the finest statue I have yet seen – that is a beautiful little antique Antinous – as the late Dr Burgh of York used to say, the pictures are a selection not a collection – the head of Saint Paul chef d’oeuvre of Leonard da Vinci, and 2 fine landscapes by Claude Lorraine seemed to please us best – the house is one of Sir John Vanbrugh’s – 2 stories on a basement story – squary, and chimneys in heavy masses – peristyle of 4 (corinthian?) columns – 35 minutes walking along the home terrace and round back to the house – beautiful view from the end of this terrace over the pretty little winding river Rye and Helmsley and its ruined castle of which there are considerable remains of the old square keep tower and of the great gateway to the outer ballium or court – besides a large remain of what must have been the building inhabited by Villars duke of Buckingham with large Elisabethan kind of windows – a temple at each end of the terrace – 20 acres of mowing began to mow the 1st may and go on every day (so that the whole is mown every nine days) till 1 November. 
12 little cork oaks (quercus suber) planted 2 or 3 years ago on the terrace but do not seem to do well – very fine bushes of box (planted about 40 years ago) and yew and common laurel – and in another part a cut yew hedge that was suffered to grow wild by the present possessor, and now grown into fine trees – the flower garden on the salon side the house seemed a too crowded assemblage of of queen-cake beds on the flat grass-plot between the house and terrace – the flower garden on another (the dining room?) side the house not quite so crowded and looked better – the kitchen garden close to Helmsley the boll about 20 inches in circumference at about 18 inches from the bottom – I should think the branches were some of them 10 yards long trained horizontally along the house – 
Off from Duncombe Park at 5 55/.. and at the little river running down the middle of it towards or rather from above and down from the good large very neat church – could clearly trace the double moat around the castle – dinner at 7 3/4 – good roast loin of mutton and pancake, and for something to drink, tea immediately afterwards – found we should have seen Byland abbey (passed it within a few yards) this morning about 5 miles from here – had up the master of the house – agree to go back tomorrow to see Coxwold church (8 miles) Byland abbey Ampelforth Roman Catholic college and there by Malton to Langton 29 miles with 4 horses, wheelers at 1/3 and leaders, as agreed, at 1/. per mile – to talk to Rivaulx the 1st thing after breakfast – 
Miss Walker sat while I wrote the whole of today till 10 25/.. – the morning cleared up, and we have had a very fine day and beautiful red-skied evening – the master of the house told us he had his farm easy enough – had been lowered to £40 a year – 80 acres and the house at £110 per annum but there was not posting enough to pay – for he was obliged to keep 6 horses on account of the company to and from the house Lord F receives at the castle here (Mr Jonathan Grey of York receives it – and Mr (Thomas?) Phillips, who lives not far from here, is the land steward) £44,000 and at Kirkby Moorside £7000 per annum he has a million in money – hold of 2 or 3 large estates – income altogether £151,000 per annum – very near (parsimonious) and hot in his temper, but he is so to his own family as well as to the tenants – not a cottage of 20/. a year let without his knowledge – 
Went to my room at 11 1/4 – Fahrenheit 54˚ at 11 50/.. p.m. –
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A Helping Hand
Summary: My girlfriend just dumped me and I’ve gotten piss drunk and somehow managed to get into your apartment instead of my own. I’m trying to masturbate my feelings away and boy were you surprised. Based on a Tumblr prompt that spiraled out of control.
A/N: Here it is, the last chapter before the epilogue! I'm so sad to finish this story and still completely baffled by the reception this story has had, but I am so grateful. Thank you all so much!
A huge thank you goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones​ for not only beta reading so quickly, but for putting up with all my typos. She is truly the best! Thank you for @onceuponaprincessworld​ because without her I probably would not have finished this fic. I also want to thank the Anon who had sent me this prompt in the first place; without her, this fic would not exist. And thank you for the lovely pm you sent me a while back to let me know who you are so I could thank you properly! This was supposed to be a one-shot and turned into so much more than either of us had ever imagined. I would also like to thank @daeneryskairipa​ for the gorgeous gif set she made for this story as my 2017 CS Secret Santa. If you haven’t seen it, check out the link below! 
AHH Graphic 
Rated: Mature for sex and salty language.
Also available: AO3 I FF.N
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13 Ch 14 Ch 15 Ch 16 Ch 17 Ch 18 Ch 19
Chapter 20: Happy Beginnings
After breakfast, the group split up for the day. Emma and Mary Margaret had planned for the ladies to spend the day along the Royal Mile, the heart of Edinburgh, for Elsa’s bachelor party. The bridesmaids gave her a sash that said Mrs. Captain Jones on the front, and she giggled when she saw it, and put it on before they left. They began at an extinct volcano and continued down a slope that was formed by the retreat of an ice age millions of years ago and was now the main street of the adjoining burghs of Edinburgh and Canongate. They visited a few of the significant landmarks, including the Edinburgh Castle, a world-famous attraction, and the Scottish Parliament for a tour of the building and its art collection, and to see parliament in debate. They had lunch in one of the restaurants down the Royal Mile and visited a few museums and shops, all while enjoying beautiful views across the city to the Firth of Forth, the estuary of several Scottish rivers.
 Meanwhile, the men, including Leo, spent the afternoon competing in mini highland games. The group reconvened at the Lighthouse Hotel for the rehearsal dinner and afterward, Liam and Elsa said their goodbyes for the night with parting kisses, both of them giddy with excitement for the big day tomorrow. The ladies threw Elsa a small party in the hotel suite where the bridesmaids were wearing matching royal blue robes with their title for the wedding in pink letters on the back, and they drank wine and showered the bride with gifts and played some silly games.
 The wedding day finally dawned, bringing a pandemonium of excitement through the hotel, and also a few minor hiccups along the way. But it was nothing a cool-headed bride, an over-exuberant wedding planner and eager to please groom could not handle, even if he were a bit of groomzilla. The soon to be married couple complemented each other, and usually, Elsa was the one talking Liam down or putting him in his place. He was the worry wart and she was the levelheaded of the two, the one who always had a way of calming him down to a normal, human level. However, even Elsa had a breaking point.
 Emma ran frantically through the hall in her high heels and royal blue maid of honor dress, holding up the fabric so it didn't drag along the floor as she headed for the groom's suite, bursting through the door with one hand covering her eyes. She scrambled into the room shouting, “Where’s Mary Margaret?” while trying to catch her breath.
 Liam and his groomsmen were startled, grumbling in complaint from the female intrusion. “Bloody hell, Emma, don’t you know how to knock?” Liam asked curtly.
 Emma scoffed. “You're one to talk. You wouldn’t know how to knock if there was a sign on the door that had instructions on how to knock.” When she thought it was safe to do so, she peeked through a narrow slit between her fingers to see that everyone was decent - Liam was buttoning up his shirt and David tying the bow of Leo’s tux—and removed her hand.
 “Aunt Em Em!” Leo shouted and ran over to Emma jumping into her arms as she scooped him up. “Hey, kiddo.” She gave her nephew a small smile and a peck on the cheek, but she knew she still looked anxious; she was afraid her friend would have a nervous breakdown before the wedding.
 Killian was buttoning up his vest as he approached her, and of course, he looked adorable and handsome as always, with his black tux and blue vest that matched his mesmerizing eyes, his hair a bit untidy from running his hand through it over and over. And of course he was not opposed to her presence in the dressing room, but his smile fell when he saw the frantic look on her face. “What’s wrong, love?”
 “There’s a wedding dress emergency,” Emma replied, setting Leo down. He was growing like a weed and getting heavy; soon he’d be too big for Emma to carry. “The zipper broke, so Elsa can’t zip up her dress at all, and she’s freaking out, afraid she’s going to have to walk down the aisle with her butt hanging out.” As she looked around the room, she could see the little smirk on Liam’s face; he was not opposed to the idea. “We need Mary Margaret, she will know what to do.”
 “I’m not sure where she is, did you check our room?” David asked her.
 "Yes, but she's not there." Emma let out an exasperated sigh. “Great, the wedding dress is defective, the bride’s a wreck and the wedding planner’s missing, what else could possibly go wrong? Not even her own sister can calm her down.” Emma placed her fingertips to her temple, rubbing them slowly to ease the headache blooming over her.
 “Hey,” Killian murmured in a soothing tone as he came behind her and kissed the tip of her ear, massaging her shoulder with his one good hand, switching from one side to the other. Emma melted into his touch, able to calm down a bit. “Relax, we’ll find Mary Margaret, I’m sure she has a sewing kit.”
 Emma shot David a questioning glance.
 “Knowing my wife, she’s fully prepared for situations like this.” He extended his hand to his son. “Come on, Leo, let’s find your mother.” Leo took his hand and they headed for the door.
 “Thank you,” Emma said appreciatively.
 “Don’t worry, we’ll find her.” He flashed her a reassuring smile, somehow easing her nerves a bit, and left the room.
 Emma's back slumped into Killian's chest as he wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the warmth he offered. Killian always knew how to calm her down, and right now the whole atmosphere of the wedding needed calmness.
 “Come on, Killian, you can help me calm the bride down.” She took his hand and headed for the door.
 “Oi, what about me?” Liam asked with a frown. “I am the groom.”
 “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” Emma told him and pulled Killian out of the room.
 “But, love, if her own sister can’t calm her then what makes you think I can?” Killian asked in confusion.
 Emma paused and turned around, cupping one of his cheeks in the hand which was not entwined with his. “Because, baby, you may only have one hand, but it works wonders.”
 Killian didn’t bother to argue any further as he flashed a smug grin and allowed Emma to lead him to the bridal suite.
 When they rushed through the door, Elsa was still in panic mode as she sat in her chair while Anna’s arm was around her sister’s shoulder as she planted a kiss to her temple, trying to calm her as Ruby applied Elsa’s makeup. Although, neither Ruby's nor Anna’s attempts were working very well. Elsa could not sit still and was squirming in her seat as Ruby sighed in frustration trying to hold her chin where she needed it in order to not fuck up her makeup.
 Elsa moved her head away, her makeup only partly done as she looked at Killian and Emma. “Did you find Mary Margaret?”
 “No, David went to look for her, but in the meantime, I brought the Best Man to help you relax.”
 Elsa arched a brow, not in the mood to smile. “As much as I like you, Killian, I don't like you that much.”
 Killian chuckled. “She didn’t mean it like that.” He went around and started massaging her shoulders.
 Elsa’s tense body seemed to melt at Killian’s touch. His hand was magic like that. “Oooh, that is very relaxing,” she murmured and closed her eyes. Elsa was able to relax enough to allow Ruby to continue with applying her makeup. She added some final touches before handing the bride a hand mirror so she could study her reflection.
 Elsa frowned, panic washing over her features. She had blood red lips and her face looked even paler than her normal complexion. “What did you do?"
 Ruby frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? I made you look like a Queen, just like you wanted."
 Elsa's eyes widened at her. "I said Ice Queen, not the White Queen!"
 Ruby’s face flashed with apology. “Oh, sorry, I just thought the dark lips was what you wanted.”
 “No, I wanted cool tones for my eyes and lips, like pale pinks and blues, not warm colors!” Elsa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
 “Alright, alright, I’ll redo it, it will be fine.” Ruby cleaned off Elsa’s makeup and retrieved some lighter colors from her cosmetic case.
 Elsa kept looking into the mirror to make sure Ruby was doing her makeup to her satisfaction, critiquing every step and blurting out comments like, “Too much blush," “Not enough eyeshadow," and "Why are you using that color? It's too dark."
 Ruby sighed and rolled her eyes. "Keep telling me how to do my job and I’ll make you look like a drag queen,” she warned with a sweet smile.
 “Did someone ask for a sewing kit?” Mary Margaret's voice pulled their attention as the cheerful Nolan woman entered the room with a bright smile.
 Elsa’s eyes widened when she saw the kit in her hands. “You have one?”
 “Well of course. What kind of Wedding Planner would I be if I didn’t have a sewing kit handy?”
 Elsa sighed in relief. “Thank you, you're a lifesaver.”
 Killian stepped away, letting Mary Margaret stand behind the bride as she stood up, allowing Mary Margaret to assess the damage as she pursed her lips together. She tinkered with the zipper a little before concluding, “Well the bad news is there’s nothing I can do about the zipper…”
 “And the good news?” Elsa asked impatiently in a panicked tone.
 “The good news is I can sew the dress together but it won’t be very easy to get out of. You’ll have to cut the thread to get the dress off.”
 Elsa sighed. “Fine, do what you need to do to so my ass isn’t hanging out of my dress when I walk down the aisle,” Elsa bit out in frustration.
 Emma took her friend's hand to soothe her. “Don’t worry, MM knows what she’s doing, just relax," she said in a calming tone as her hand soothed Elsa’s.
 Ruby snickered and everyone glanced at her, wondering what was so funny. "I’m sure getting out of the dress will be no problem for Elsa, Liam could just rip the dress off himself. He has strong hands."
 That remark earned a scowl from Elsa. "Talk about my groom's hands again and you won't have any,” she shot back.
 Ruby frowned. “At least spare one of my hands, I can still work with that.” She shot Killian a mischievous smirk. “Lord knows Killian has learned to work with what he’s got.”
 “Alright, enough of the offhanded comments,” Mary Margaret interjected, and the other women snickered.
 Killian groaned. “That's enough hand jokes, aye?” Then his frown turned into a smirk as he pulled Emma into his arms and kissed her cheek. “Besides, I don’t have to try very hard, do I, sweetheart?”
 Emma shook her head and blushed as a small laugh tumbled from her lips. “No, you don’t.”
 Ruby returned to her task of working on a grumpy Elsa’s makeup. “Just relax, Elsa, I don’t feel like losing my hands today. Besides, if I had no hands then who would do your makeup? Believe me, with your attitude, you're going to have a hard time finding anyone else.”
 Elsa closed her eyes in regret. ”I’m sorry, I’m just very tense, and normally Liam knows how to calm me down.”
 “Why don’t I get him for you, lass?” Killian offered.
 Elsa's eyes flipped open in surprise. “Yes, please,” she sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
 “No!” the other women all shouted at once.
 “It’s bad luck-”
 “Then cover his eyes with a blindfold, I don’t care, just bring him to me!” Elsa shouted, and no one bothered to argue with her. Very seldom, Elsa raised her voice. So when she did, everyone knew not to mess with her.
 “I’ll get him,” Emma offered and left the room in a flash to fetch the groom. She dashed into the men’s dressing room as Liam flashed her a questioning look. “Were you able to find Mary Margaret?”
 “Yeah, she’s going to sew Elsa into the dress.”
 Liam sighed in relief, and without any preamble, Emma undid his tie and started wrapping it around his head. He stepped back, putting his hands up in a defensive pose. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing lass?”
 “Elsa asked for you,” Emma replied without any further explanation.
 Still, he allowed her to tie the fabric around his eyes. “I always knew you were kinky.”
 Emma rolled her eyes. “You have no idea,” she mumbled.
 “What?” he asked, dragging the blindfold from his eyes.
 She laughed. “The blindfold is supposed to affect your vision, not your hearing. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”
 “Well, can I at least see on the way to the bridal suite?”
 Emma sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the room. “Fine, but before we reach the door, it goes back on.”
 “Such a demanding thing, aren’t you?”
 Emma scoffed at that. “Again, the pot calling the kettle black,” she teased and rushed him to the Bridal Suite.
 Emma opened the door and peeked her head through. “The groom’s here, can you turn Elsa around, please?” She pulled the blindfold over Liam’s eyes and pulled him into the room when Elsa was facing away from them. Ruby pulled the train of Elsa’s dress to the side so Mary Margaret could have room to work on the back opening of the gown without worrying about stepping on the gorgeous skirts of Elsa’s dress.
 “Liam?” Elsa called to her groom.
 “I’m here, darling,” he said in a soothing tone as Emma led him to her.
 “Can someone hold the dress together?” Mary Margaret asked.
 “I’ll do it,” Liam replied quickly and Emma guided his hands to the material, and he held the opening of her dress closed while Mary Margaret sewed. With his finger and thumb securing the fabric together, he raised his other hand to Elsa’s lace covered shoulder and offered soft endearments to her. Elsa instantly relaxed and placed her hand on top of his.
 “Everything’s going to be alright, love,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. We are going to be married by the end of the day, and none of this is going to matter.”
 The women swooned as he continued to ease Elsa’s worries with his soft, encouraging words, and in no time Mary Margaret was finished with the dress.
 “There, all done.”
 Elsa visibly sighed in relief, as though a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you.”
 Mary Margaret moved out of the way with her supplies, and Liam wrapped his arms around his bride, planting a kiss to her shoulder blade.
 “I love you, Elsa.”
 “I love you, too.”
 It was a beautiful sight to behold as he held his bride in his arms, melting all of her fears and worries away.
 “Oh hell, let them see each other before the wedding,” Mary Margaret said. “We’ll give you two some privacy.” Emma agreed, and the bride and groom did not appear to be opposed, so Emma removed the blindfold.
 His eyes widened, a big smile taking over his lips as Elsa turned around, also flashing him a grin. She took his breath away as his eyes scanned her beautiful form. The dress was not the traditional white and instead was a pale blue, but she looked no less gorgeous in it.
 The others left to give them some privacy, and Mary Margaret went off to check on the current status of things, making sure everything was in order for the wedding.
 Killian pulled Emma in his arms once they were left alone. “Finally, we have a quiet moment,” he said with a smirk. Emma blushed and smiled as he kissed her lips, reveling in her taste. “Have I told you how exquisite you look in that dress?”
 She ran her hands down the lapels of his tuxedo jacket with devilry in her eyes. “No, but maybe you could show me later?” she offered with a lascivious grin.
 Killian arched a brow, intrigued by her proposal. “I can’t wait, love.” He pulled her to him and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, peppering soft kisses to her neck. Emma laughed, his trimmed beard tickling her skin.
 Ten minutes later, the women were back in the room when the minister knocked on the door to announce the ceremony was about to begin. The bridesmaids and maid of honor gathered around the bride, hugging her and wiping the tears from their eyes.
 Soon, Anna and Elsa’s Aunt Ingrid entered the room. She gathered her nieces into a hug before cupping the bride’s cheeks in her hands, a look of pride in her eyes. “So beautiful, just like your mother,” she commented, her eyes welling up with tears. “Are you ready to be walked down the aisle?”
 Elsa had a smile on her face and nodded without hesitation, finally ready to walk down the aisle; there was nothing that could bring her down now. And since Elsa’s parents passed away long ago, Ingrid had always been more like a parent than an aunt, so they only saw it fitting for Ingrid to walk Elsa down the aisle.
 ~*~
 “Are you ready, brother?” Killian asked an anxious Liam, patting him on the shoulder.
 Liam inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising as he adjusted his tie. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He turned and looked at his brother. “How do I look?”
 Killian rested his hands on Liam’s shoulders. “Relax, you look fine, Liam.”
 Liam frowned. “Just fine?”
 “You look like you’re ready to get on with this shindig,” Killian clarified with a laugh. “And also handsome,” he smirked and added, “but not as devilishly handsome as me.”
 Liam rolled his eyes. “How did I know you were going to say that?” He took another deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “I can’t wait for this day to be over with. Does that make me a bad groom?”
 Killian shook his head, another chuckle leaving his lips. “No, it just means you can’t wait for your’s and Elsa’s lives to begin.”
 Liam grinned from ear to ear at the idea, his blue eyes lighting up. “Exactly.” He drew Killian into a bear hug. “Thank you, brother, for being here with me every step of the way… even if I have been a royal pain in the arse.”
 Another laugh tore through Killian’s throat as the two men patted each other on the back. “I’d take my royal pain in the arse brother over no brother at all,” he murmured sincerely. “I love you, Liam”
 “I love you too, brother.”
 They broke apart, and soon it was time for them to enter the ceremony from the side and join the minister at the altar as Liam waited for his bride in heightened anticipation.
 The ceremony was an enchanting affair for an enchanting couple, beginning with the bridal party walking down the aisle in pairs. The chairs were square, each one adorned with a silver cover and royal blue ribbon which wrapped around and tied in the back with silver and light blue roses. There was an archway made of silver leaves and a mixture of light blue and royal blue flowers. Bouquets of royal blue and light blue accented with crystals, stephanotis and blue Picasso Calla Lilies were set out on the ends of each aisle in long, tall vases made from real crystal, and there was a pianist in the corner playing live music.
 Emma entered the room, carrying her bouquet as she walked down the aisle alone, following behind Anna and Kristoff with a brilliant smile that showed off those pearly white teeth as she made eye contact with Killian.
 Gods, she looked gorgeous, he thought to himself, and even more so when he winked at her, making her cheeks flush with an adorable shade of pink.
 She never tore her eyes away from him though, only smirked when she reached the other side of the altar. Leo wandered down the aisle with a ring bearer pillow holding the rings and then the flower girl, who was a second cousin of Elsa and Anna’s threw one blue petal at a time, and everyone laughed as she dumped the rest of the petals at the end of the aisle. The bridal party stood in their positions, the bridesmaids holding their bouquets. The bridal chorus cued and all the guests stood and turned to watch as Elsa entered with her Aunt Ingrid. Killian glanced at Liam, and the look on his face was priceless. Even though Liam had seen her prewedding, he was still blown away and waited for his bride with bated breath. When Liam had seen her before the wedding, Elsa was a nervous wreck, but now… now she had a giddy, carefree smile on her face as she locked eyes with her groom. The spark between them was undeniable, and Killian’s heart warmed knowing his brother had picked the most perfect woman to spend the rest of his life with. She was stunning, and looked like an exquisite ice queen.
 Elsa kissed Ingrid's cheek and joined her groom at the altar still donning a bright smile as they exchanged the vows they had written for each other, telling everyone how they had met and how they had fallen in love, not leaving a dry eye in the place by the time they said their I do’s .
 Through a watery gaze, Killian looked over at Emma, who was wiping tears from her eyes, and he could hear the sniffles of the guests throughout the room. When the rings were exchanged and the minister announced them, husband and wife, Liam kissed his bride as everyone cheered, and off the happy couple went down the aisle.
 The day was bright and clear when the bridal party made it outside for photos, and even though it was a little chilly, it was nothing to deter them from having the photos taken out on the edge of the cliff with the beautiful mountains as their backdrop as well as at the top of the lighthouse.
 The reception was held in the banquet hall with an open bar, raided by the guests before they sat at their assigned tables. The bridal party sat at the Head Table and Killian took the microphone and stood to give his speech.
 "For those of you who don’t know me, I am the more devilishly handsome and wittier Jones brother,” he quipped, and immediately received a playful eye roll from Liam. “What can I say about Liam?" he asked and then held up a finger as though an idea struck him suddenly. "Ah, yes…" He reached inside his suit jacket and retrieved a folded piece of paper, which was blank, but he pretended to read from it. “Liam Jones is a great man, he is selfless, he's kind... he’s honorable." Killian paused and looked at Liam pointing at the piece of paper. "Liam, you spelled handsome wrong," he spoke loudly, “you forgot the d,” and everyone laughed, including Liam who shook his head. Killian returned his attention to the guests. "And apparently he can't spell correctly, even when writing about himself."
 "Haha, very funny," Liam teased with a bashful grin.
 Killian cleared his throat as he tucked the paper away and looked at his brother, lifting his hand to his shoulder. "No, but seriously, Mum would have been so proud of you if she were alive today,” he said sincerely and looked toward the audience again. “Ever since we were kids, Liam has always been there for me… when we lost our mum, when our dad walked out on us, when we were in the navy together, when I lost my hand, and even when we weren't on such great terms." He looked at Emma and smiled. "There was a time, believe it or not when I did not have great taste in women, unlike my brother here." Killian gestured to Emma, "I’m clearly not speaking of my lovely girlfriend, Emma."
 Emma smiled and blushed, and Liam nodded, not willing to argue with him there.
 "He warned me about this other lass, who shall remain nameless. Tried to tell me she wasn't good enough for me, and I should've listened… but alas, I was a stubborn arse, just like my brother here, and so I got my heart stomped on by said woman. To make matters worse, I was an alcoholic at the time, so I tried to drink my sorrows away, and then one day I decided to get out of bed and pick my pride up off the floor to call Liam. After I told him what had happened, he could’ve said he’d told me so or he could've just hung up on me, but he didn’t. Instead, he told me to pack my bloody things, get my arse on a plane and fly as far away from that devil of a woman as I possibly could. And I said to him, where am I gonna go? You're all I've got, brother. And that's when I knew those were the magic words to Liam's heart, because after he so lovingly told me to go to hell," Killian paused, allowing the guests to laugh before continuing, “he said, you're staying with me, whether you like it or not. So that's exactly what I did. I got on a plane and literally stumbled through my brother's door. I dropped my luggage off before stumbling over to a bar and then, later on, I stumbled into my neighbor’s apartment and one of the occupants came home,” he added with a smirk, “boy was she surprised." He winked at Emma while the audience laughed.
 “I ended up making said occupant my girlfriend, but that's a story for a different time. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, when I was at my worst," Killian held up his prosthetic hand, "and yes, it was worse than getting my hand blown off in the Navy…" he joked, prompting another spur of laughs from the crowd, "Liam offered me his home, got me a job and helped me get on my feet again. He has always taken care of me, despite how angry we were with each other or how much more handsome I’ve always been than him" he said, emphasizing the d, "and how much I beat him at arm wrestling, even with one hand."
 Liam rolled his eyes but was smiling at the same time.
 "And Elsa, well… I don't think it needs to be said, but I'll say it anyway… Elsa, I am so glad Liam found someone to put the royal pain in the butt in his place. I could not have chosen a better sister-in-law if I had picked her myself." Killian went over to Elsa and they exchanged chaste kisses on the cheek.
 "Thank you, Killian," she smiled.
 "Liam… Elsa…” Liam took the microphone, holding it up for Killian so he could raise his glass. “To a lifetime of love and happiness.”
 "Thank you, brother," Liam said appreciatively, patting his brother on the back.
 Everyone drank to the toast, and Liam passed the microphone to Emma as she stood up.
 “Hi, I am Emma, the Maid of Honor and also one of Elsa’s best friends. So, the story of how I met Elsa is pretty ordinary,” Emma began. “Elsa was looking for a place to live, I was looking for a roommate and the rest is history. But little did I know at the time, our friendship would be so much more than ordinary. I can’t tell you how many days we have known each other, but I can tell you, there was never a day when Elsa wasn't there for me. She is like the sister I never had and while we were roommates, we borrowed each other’s things without asking, we got after each other for borrowing each other’s things, I would break into her boyfriend’s apartment to borrow things from him—you know the typical sisterly stuff," she quipped before adding, "but then I didn't have to break in because I started dating his brother." She looked at Elsa and Liam who were both laughing and offered a sweet smile. "But before that, I had the advantage of witnessing these two fall in love. I remember how Elsa would come home with a great big smile on her face after running into our British neighbor who had moved in across the hall, and I remember how he came to me one day to ask for advice about how to ask Elsa out. If it were any other guy, I probably would've told Elsa to run away and never come back," Emma laughed, "but I knew Liam was different and I'm so glad I trusted my instincts. It was such a privilege to be there for them every step of the way while they slowly fell in love with one another.” Emma’s eyes welled up with tears as Liam took Elsa’s hand, and she could tell they were also on the verge of tears.
 “And now they're both moving out and getting a place of their own. But I'm not worried because there is no distance that could keep us apart." She looked over at Elsa who was smiling back at her. "You will always be like a sister to me," Emma said sincerely and turned her attention to the audience. "And if there is one thing I have learned about my good friend, Elsa… it's to never keep a secret from her because you’ll regret it. Elsa will never judge you, she is warm and kind and forgiving… and no, she did not tell me to say these things,” she joked with a small smile. “She is really perfect for Liam because for those of you who don’t know him very well, I will be the first to say it—he is an OCD control freak.” Emma paused as everyone burst into laughter. “Elsa is the only one on God’s green earth who can sweeten his bitter ways. That's why he takes his coffee black and why we never hear him complain about Elsa hogging the blankets, even though we know she does… it's because she's sweeter than any creamer and she's warmer than any blanket he would need. He's the whiskey to our glass and she's the Coke with the cherry garnish. He's the peanut butter to our bread and she's the strawberry jam. Alone they can be a bit overbearing—well Liam can be at least," she corrected with a smirk, and Liam scowled playfully, "but together they are the perfect combination. In fact, being friends with these two is like going skydiving… only instead of jumping off the plane when you’re ready, Liam throws you the parachute and pushes you off when you refuse to jump.” Everyone cracked up, and Emma continued when the laughter died down. “And Elsa is the parachute that softens the landing.”
 The audience cheered and clapped as Elsa looked up at Emma with tears in her eyes.
 “I love you both, and it is with great honor that I raise my glass to you...” Emma lifted her glass to Elsa and then to Liam, “to you...” before raising her glass higher to both of them, “to your happy beginning… and to happily ever after.” They clinked their glasses and drank, and Emma handed off the microphone to the announcer as Elsa stood to hug her.
 “Thank you, Emma, that was very sweet.”
 “It was only the truth,” Emma assured her.
 Liam took his turn and drew Emma into a hug, kissing her cheek as Killian looked over at her with pride in his eyes. “Great speech, Emma.”
 “Aye, you nailed it, love,” Killian added
 Emma smirked and kissed her boyfriend's cheek. “I know.”
 After they all had their turn at the buffet, it was time for the cake, which looked way too good to eat. It had three tiers and royal blue frosting, decorated with silver sugar pearls to make it look like it was frosted with snow. Liam and Elsa cut the cake before shoving it in each other’s faces. They had their first dance as husband and wife before everyone else joined in. The group took turns dancing with each other in pairs, and Leo got to dance with Aunt Em Em, and finally, Emma got a chance to dance with her boyfriend. He spun her around and dipped her, spurring on a gale of giggles. The reception was a blast, and soon, it was time for Elsa to toss the bouquet, which Emma caught. Killian made sure to snag the garter belt after Liam flung it in the air, and he promptly slid it up Emma’s leg.
 They sent the bride and groom off in a decorated limousine. And from there, the newly married couple would head to the airport and leave for their honeymoon in Bali. Emma and Killian went back to their hotel in Glasgow that night, and were so exhausted they went straight to bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms. While the rest of the group had to get back to the States, Emma and Killian spent a few more days in Scotland before they headed home. Luckily they had a different flight attendant who didn't hit on Emma’s boyfriend.
 ~*~
 The next couple of months flew by, probably because they were very eventful, with Elsa and Liam moving into their new home, Killian and Emma moving his things into her place, both couples buying new furniture and of course the holidays they all spent together. Because Elsa and Liam were still in the process of unpacking at the time, the group spent Christmas at the Nolan’s, and then Liam and Elsa hopped on a plane to visit Anna and Kristoff for New Years, while Emma and Killian spent the days leading up to it painting their bedroom, which had been Emma’s when she had lived with Elsa, but they both decided pink wasn’t the best color, just like the pink, fluffy pillows and pink furniture needed to go as well.
 They both wanted to make their new home theirs. And since they moved Emma’s bed into Elsa’s old room, and since Killian’s bed frame was so old they literally broke the bed, they were waiting to get a new frame once they were done painting their room (although they started playing around when Killian told her she missed a spot on the wall and they ended up getting more paint on themselves than they did on the wall that day and cleaned off together in the shower). They spent New Year’s Eve in Times Square watching the ball drop since Killian had never experienced anything like it before. As fun as it was, the weather was bitter cold and they spent a lot of time waiting for the ball to drop since they had to arrive very early to retain their spot, they agreed to spend the next New Year's Eve at home.
 Superbowl Sunday was at Liam and Elsa’s house, and the couple was more than happy to host their first party after they had made the desired changes and redecorated the home to their liking. Liam, of course, wasted no time to make sure the house was picture perfect. Although it was nowhere near finished, for he planned on fixing up the basement and garage and planned on building a backyard deck in the spring.
 The next day, Emma had to drag herself out of bed; she felt like crap even though she and Killian had no alcohol. She had explained to the gang she was refraining from alcohol to support Killian’s sobriety, but what she didn't tell them was the other reason she hadn’t drank…
 Emma sat on the toilet seat, waiting in anticipation as she stared at the white stick in her hand, not able to peel her eyes away, as though the pregnancy test would catch on fire if she looked away. She couldn’t believe she forgot her birth control pills while she was in Scotland. She never forgot to take them and didn’t even realize she hadn’t until after she and Killian had arrived home. She didn't think she could get pregnant from going a few days without them until she ended up vomiting yesterday morning. And it couldn't have been the food she ate the night prior when she was babysitting Leo considering he didn't get sick, although he was recovering from the flu.
 When only one line remained, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She and Killian had talked about having kids someday, but she knew they weren’t ready yet. They’d only been dating for eight months, she loved their life and didn’t want anything to change just yet. But a tiny part of her—okay maybe an even larger part of her—ached in disappointed at the fact that she was not pregnant. It turned out she'd gotten the flu from Leo.
 ~*~
 One week later
 “Okay, I can’t take it anymore, what’s the surprise?” Emma asked as Killian took her hand and led her through their apartment. “And why am I wearing my bathrobe for such a surprise?” Only moments ago, she was wearing a black dress and heels for her birthday dinner that she had carefully chosen when Killian told her he was taking her out to a nice dinner and dancing. Now she was in her bra and panties and a bathrobe per Killian’s request. She was also wearing a blindfold as he took her to his desired destination.
 “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, love.”
 Emma sighed, but allowed him to lead the way, and soon she felt the cold, tiled floor under her feet, which meant they were in the kitchen, because why would they be in the….
 Killian lifted the blindfold, and to her utter confusion, they were in their bathroom, and it was currently lit by scented candles which covered the bathroom countertop.
 Emma raised a brow as she looked at Killian, who was also in nothing but his bathrobe. “Why is this such a surprise?”
 Killian smirked at her with those smoldering blue eyes that told her he was up to no good, and he pulled at the belt of his robe, untying it. He let the cotton fabric fall to the floor and got into the tub naked. It wasn't even filled with water.
 “What are you doing?” Emma was even more perplexed
 Killian reclined back, leaning his head against the tiled wall as he waved his hand around him. “Doesn’t this look familiar to you?”
 Emma planted her hands on her hips and pursed her lips, thinking about his question for a moment. Killian was lying in the tub naked, which of course was how she had found him nine months ago. “This is how we met... sort of.” She crossed her arms and smirked. “Only you were jerking off if I do recall.”
 Killian nodded, blush coloring his cheeks as he gave a small smile. “I was, but that was a different time in my life. Milah had just broken up with me, and my brother and I were not on speaking terms. But you, my love, you found me in this exact spot.” His features grew serious as he continued. “I was a shattered mess... and you accepted me even when I was at my worst.”
 Emma smiled, her eyes pricking with tears. She climbed into the tub and straddled him in the cramped space. Killian sat up and wrapped his arms around her back as she cupped his cheeks in her hands.
 “You were adorable,” she laughed.
 “I was a hot mess,” he tried to correct her, his eyes clouding with regret and embarrassment as he lowered his eyes.
 “An adorable hot mess,” she added with a small smirk and lifted his face so she could gaze into those bright blue eyes she had swooned over even during their first encounter. “I can’t say I would have pictured us getting together at the time, you did throw up in my hair,” she reminded him.
 Killian blushed deeper, and his expression was still full of regret, but at least she got a small smile out of him. “Sorry, love, it wasn’t exactly my finest hour, was it?”
 Emma shook her head. “Nope.”
 Killian’s smile widened a bit. “And yet, you're still here with me.”
 She smiled brightly. “That's true, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
 “Me neither.” Killian bit his bottom, and he looked nervous about something, although she didn’t know why. “In fact, I always want you here with me, love, no matter what.”
 Emma arched a brow. “Here in the bathtub?”
 Killian chuckled and shook his head. “No, in my life.” He glanced above Emma, and she lifted her head to see what he was looking at. “Could you hand me that, love?”
 Her eyebrow only seemed to rise higher toward her hairline. “You mean the loofah?”
 “Aye.”
 “Okaaay,” she answered skittishly, studying him cautiously. “But if you plan on taking a bath, you kind of need water and soap to do that.” Emma grabbed the loop of the loofah and removed it from the hook it was hanging on. Glancing at it, she noticed something silver and shiny sitting at the bottom of the loop. Her mouth fell open as she stared at the large diamond.
 “No, I plan on asking you to marry me.”
 Emma was too stunned to speak as she gaped at the ring with wide eyes.
 Killian took the loofah from her hands and removed the engagement ring, holding it up for her. “Will you marry me, Emma?”
 She gazed at him in shock, seeing the glint in his eyes as he awaited her answer.
 “Love?” His face fell slightly in concern, and she knew what her answer was, she just didn't have the strength to say it at first.
 Finally, a smile blossomed over her lips and she blurted her answer out in a choked sob. “Yes.”
 “Really?”
 “Yes, I will marry you,” she laughed, a tear streaming down her cheek.
 Killian sighed in relief, a big smile spreading across his lips. His eyes were buzzing with excitement as he drew her in for a kiss, his hand sliding through her hair as he breathed her in. “Love, you scared me for a moment,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
 “Sorry, I was just surprised.” She stuck out her hand, and he slipped the ring on her finger. “I love you, Killian, of course, my answer is yes.” She giggled and cupped his cheeks in her hands.
 “I love you, too, Emma.”
 Pure bliss took over them as she crushed his lips with hers and they kissed with everything they felt for each other. She would never grow tired of kissing this man’s lips, she never grew tired of how he smelled or how he tasted, how he bit her bottom lip and groaned in her mouth when she slipped her tongue against his. The kiss ignited a fiery spark between them and quickly intensified, similar to how a flame reacted to gasoline. Emma removed her robe, tossing it to the floor, along with her bra and panties, and they made love in the tub, both of them finding blissful release in each others’ arms before collapsing. Killian laid on his back, resting his head on the edge of the tub and Emma laid her head on his chest, their limbs entangled as they struggled to catch their breaths.
 It took a few minutes of calming her heart rate before she was able to speak again. “Can I ask you something?” she asked, running her fingers through his chest hair and taking his naval charms in her hand to admire them as she often enjoyed doing.
 “Of course, love.”
 She looked up at him, gazing warmly into his eyes. “You still don't remember anything from that night, do you?”
 Killian took a long breath as he thought about her question. “I remember being at the bar, but that’s it.”
 Emma nodded and bit her bottom lip. “It’s really strange because I was only gone for not even ten minutes. I left my apartment and headed downstairs. It’s amazing we didn’t see each other before I found you in the tub.”
 “You were only gone for ten minutes?”
 “Yeah, I was in a tank top and a pair of grey shorts, you know the shorts I always wear when I don’t plan on going out in public.”
 Killian grinned salaciously and ran his tongue over his lips as he skimmed his fingers up her arm. "Are you kidding? How could I forget those shorts? I'm just surprised I don't at least remember you wearing them that night."
 Emma nodded. "There are many little mysteries from that night I wonder about."
 "Like what, love?
 “Like why you decided to jerk off in the tub," Emma laughed.
 Killian shrugged. "Not sure, but if I had to guess, I'd say I took the elevator up to our floor and got a peek of you in those shorts as you took the stairs down to the laundry room without noticing me, and I decided to take matters into my own hand once I got home. This bathroom is where my bedroom was in Liam's apartment so I probably mistook the tub for my bed. Once I realized it was indeed not my bed, I was probably too trashed to care,” he mused with a solemn expression and a weak smile. “So, I thought of you in those lovely shorts to avoid thinking about my bleedin' heart."
 Emma nodded and smirked at the idea. "That sounds like a reasonable explanation. If only it were true."
 "I guess we'll never know."
 Emma shrugged. "Guess not."
 They were silent after that, and eventually, they moved to the bedroom and he scooped her in his arms under the covers with only the light of the moon aiding their vision.
 Her mind was frazzled with thoughts, and she decided to tell him about how she had thought she was pregnant a week ago, and how she didn’t tell him then because she didn’t want to get his hopes up before she knew for sure. Killian was shocked, but told her he’d love any baby they have. Emma agreed.
 “I have to say I was a little disappointed when I found out the test was negative,” she confessed.
 “Don’t worry, love, we’ll have babies when the time is right,” he assured with a small smile as he stroked her cheek.
 A thought occurred to her suddenly and she laughed as her face heated up with blush. "Just think, when we do have children someday we'll have to tell them the story of how we met, you know when they're old enough."
 "I suppose you're right," he chuckled.
 She looked at him to see him also blushing. "You wouldn't be too embarrassed to tell them?"
 "Perhaps a little, but, as long as I get to tell it with you, I’d be a very happy man.”
 Emma looked up at her sentimental fiance—wow, she'd have to get used to calling him that—with pride. She was so grateful she had met him, even if they did meet under less than ordinary circumstances. Now, nine months later, they lay in each other's arms, engaged to be married. Another unbidden thought occurred to Emma and she snorted out loud, clapping her hand over her mouth.
 Killian peered down at her with a raised brow. “Love? Care to share what's so funny?”
 Emma shook her head, her face beet red. “Sorry, I was thinking… we’ll have to tell our friends how you proposed bare ass naked. Liam will make fun of you, for sure.”
 Killian blushed profusely and scratched behind his ear. “Aye, I guess when I came up with such a brilliant idea, I clearly didn’t think it over thoroughly."
 Emma shook her head and laughed as she cupped his cheeks in her hands. “No, you didn’t. That’s okay, I love you anyway,” she teased with a wink.
 "I love you too, Emma, and I'd take endless joking and teasing from my brother than a lifetime without you," he professed sincerely, carressing her cheek. Emma's heart fluttered at his words, and she smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "As I've told you many times before… I never wanted just part of you, I want the whole thing. So if that means we have to tell our children how we met and our friends how I proposed, so be it.”
 Her smile broadened as she remembered fondly the first time he had told her that, when he had refused to take advantage of her for one night of passion. It still melted her heart, to this day. Emma nuzzled his nose softly with hers, whispering to him gently, “You'll always have the whole thing with me... I promise." She sealed her promise with a kiss.
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