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#we were literally alone in our half of the carriage anyway
eowylesbian · 5 months
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dublin was awesome yesterday, definitely up there in as the least stressed and tired i have ever been in dublin
#i love dublin but when we go we end up like walking the length of the entire city and exhausted#and i get pissy when im tired#but yesterday we just stuck to the northside#went to the market we wanted to go to#met the band we wanted to meet#i was So awkward i had no idea what to say it was painful but they were so lovely#we had a drink in the pub the market was being held in and watched the darts which was so lovely#fun fact i never get ID'd for drink but i do get ID'd by bouncers when somewhere is over 21s#so i came to the conclusion that i just look My Age no older no younger#and that theory doesnt just count for my hometown anymore cause i ordered our drinks without getting ID'd#and we sat there for an hour at least and no one bothered us#my gf is Not 18 theres a yr between us but she does look older so that helps#we did a tiny bit of shopping (went to m&s and tiger cause we dont have them at home)#got food and then train home yay#the train was fucking Wedged we had to stand for the first few stops cause they werent displaying the names above the booked seats#and every single seat was taken#so it seemed pointless to boot ppl out of ours#but we got 2 perfect seats after less than an hour so it was fiiine#and then our carriage was completely dead by halfway home#we were literally alone in our half of the carriage anyway#so we could be rlly gross and pda-y#which was nice cause we wont see each other til new yrs eve now#and at no point did i get tired and annoyed even when we had to stand#it was just rlly nice :)#every day i have with her is just so Nice and lovely#i am very much down bad
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Aftermath 🌹
Honestly, I've lost a lot of creativity and I don't have any good fic ideas that won't turn to shit.
Will welcome any prompts.
Got a bit spicy at the end sorry not sorry 💅
Don't have your hopes up.
The carriage rocked to a stop and I dared to look outside. Lyriad was one of the towns occupied by the Avenians, but, to my greatest surprise, I wasn't greeted with burning buildings or a ravaged landscape. Everything was relatively untouched and the inn seemed busier than we expected.
"Are they seriously that desperate for ale," Roden groaned. Which I thought was ironic given he laid waste to the castle supply frequently.
"These are probably the people who lost their homes and had nowhere to go," I said.
Someone gently tapped my shoulder, but I didn't need to turn to know who, "Maybe we should just camp out." Imogen was whispering, but everyone heard her anyway.
I turned to her. Aside from the admittedly embarrassing fact that looking at her practically winded me every time. And not because I would twist around suddenly but simply because she was so breathtaking and even her scent alone made my heart pound in my ears. Aside from all that, she didn't seem particularly uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping outside voluntarily, something that made me fall in love with her all over again.
"It's my duty to ensure the King isn't sleeping on the floor, Imogen."
I chuckled at Roden, "Since when do I care where I sleep. Actually, since when do you care?"
"I'm not asking if you care, I'm simply stating that it's not happening if I can help it. Imogen shouldn't have to sleep on the floor either. And you also forget that a princess is sitting across from you."
"A princess," Amarinda interrupted, "Who is perfectly capable of sleeping on the floor as well."
"Imogen was shot, Jaron is practically a cripple, my neck still hurts and if Tobias doesn't get some proper food he'll probably die from malnourishment." After successfully insulting the young physitian, Roden smiled and left the carriage before anyone could stop him.
I didn't protest. In all honesty I longed for something resembling a bed and a roof over my head. Not a heap of cloth in a tent. My entire body ached and my leg throbbed with betrayal. Even with half of Imogen's body against mine, I could feel the air's chill. Sleeping under the stars tonight would have been about as romantic as sleeping in stables. Both had drawbacks that I didn't want to be subjected to. Nor did I want Imogen to endure that, though I knew she was capable of anything, her comfort was a priority for me.
A few minutes of silence lapsed before my captain joined us again, "There were three rooms but I only took two. Thought we need one person capable of defence in each so I'll stay in the one with Tobias and Amarinda."
Tobias glared, "I can fight too, you know."
The up and down Roden gave was enough to make Tobias snap, "I'll have you know I wounded someone in battle."
"Who, yourself?"
"You know what, you are such an-"
"Boys."
They blanched. I thought it rather unfair that they simply listened to Imogen without protesting, but said nothing about how they didn't extend that same courtesy to their literal monarch.
I stepped outside and twisted around to help Imogen down, placing my hands on her waist and carefully setting her on the dirt.
"You know I have fully functioning legs," she kissed my cheek, "Something you can't boast at the moment."
"Let me savour this. Besides, I have fully functioning arms, might as well put them to good use."
"Do you have fully functioning lips as well?"
My grin widened, "Is that an insult or a challenge?"
I was worried she regretted our kiss in Connor's dungeon and kept my distance since. Secretly replaying the moment every other minute. But as she raised herself onto her toes and pulled me down to her, I melted. There was a hint of sweetness from the berries she was eating throughout the carriage ride. I had been watching them tint her lips red. Now I was tasting a fantasy, even more divine than I thought reality would ever grant me.
"He has something else that is fully functioning too."
It was like someone poured a bucket of water on us. I glared at Roden, hoping he understood the depth of my resentment for him. Resentment was better than humiliation. One day I would kill him if I didn't die in this moment, right now.
Though I wasn't sure what would kill me first, embrassment or Imogen. But she just gave me a once-over, bit her lip and burst out laughing as my face grew hotter than the sun. Embarassment it was then.
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tomorrowsdrama · 3 years
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So the costumes in rebel princess are obviously beautiful and incredibly detailed.  But I love that the costuming also informs us about a character’s social standing and for some characters, their state of mind as well.  Or in Song Huaien’s case, how far into the dark side he’s gone.  He’s really the inspiration for this post.  As I was re-watching some of the early episodes while waiting for the new subs (shhh, I know I’m unhealthily obsessed with this drama), I noticed not only how drastically his costuming/hair has changed, but also that he’s pretty much a mirror of whoever he chooses to follow at the moment.  Cheng’s very own Single White Female without the obsessive craziness, if you will.  Delusional?  Sure.  But not quite crazy.
But first, let’s talk about the clothing of the noble class.  I’m sorry for this thesis that I’m going to inflict on everyone that no one asked for.  I’ve joked about the long trains on Awu/the nobles’ clothing before, but it’s clear that they are a sign of high status and wealth.  The higher ranked/wealthier you are, the longer your train is it seems.  Also, just in general, the nobles’ outfits usually include an abundance/overflowing of luxe silky and billowy material.  See:
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And the nobles can afford to have such styles of clothing not just monetarily, but also lifestyle wise.  To put it bluntly, the nobles don’t have to do shit in their lives so they can afford to drag long trains of expensive fabric back and forth in their huge manors/the palace.  These clothes aren’t for functionality, but for beauty/showing off your wealth (whether intentionally or not).  If they need to go anywhere, they have comfy carriages to travel in instead of walking long distances.  If they need something?  That’s what servants are for.  I mean, just imagine how cumbersome it is to move around with such huge billowy sleeves and six feet of cloth dragging behind your ass.  You don’t have to imagine, just look at this scene where Daddy Wang visits Prime Minister Wen in prison (oh, how I regret taking this time for granted and condemning Daddy Wang for imprisoning that old fool):
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Look at how his train drags over the threshold of the prison door.  Daddy Wang literally has to lift his train and throw it over a bench in order to sit down.  
The higher your status, the less physical activity you have to partake in a.k.a. the more useless you are, so it should come as no surprise that the longest train I’ve seen so far in the drama belongs to none other than our Useless Mopey Teenager Zitan:
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The clothing choices are pretty deliberate, because whenever a character needs to do something more than just sit around enjoying tea (or wine if you’re Awu), they are given clothes that are more practical for moving around. Like the outfit Awu wore when she chased after her dad:
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It’s much shorter than her usual garb and she’s wearing simple black pants underneath which makes horse riding and chasing after a traitorous father much more manageable.
What’s interesting is seeing the opposite happen with Hu Yao.  Hu Yao is usually in very practical and simple clothing since unlike the rest of the nobles in the capital, she has to fight against invaders and protect Cheng.  But when she goes to meet our Emo Emperor Zitan, of course she has to be dressed up in a big frou frou dress that makes it hard to walk:
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It highlights just how impractical this type of extravagant clothing is for any kind of life other than a noble’s.  Hu Yao can barely walk without tripping over her own dress, let alone fight.  Also what the hell is that giant bow?
Now let’s talk about Daddy Wang’s clothes.  So before he gets exiled for attempting a coup, Daddy Wang was arguably the most powerful man in court.  He was the head of the Wangs, the most influential noble family in Cheng.  The past 10 empresses of the empire were daughters of the Wang clan, and his sister, the current empress, listened to whatever he said (for the most part).  Also his nephew wass the crown prince and easily manipulated.  He’s also wealthy AF so his status and wealth was apparent in his clothing.
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Look at the sheen on that fabric and all that intricate embroidery work!  But then of course, he gets exiled and understandably has to put on some more humble clothing:
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Simple, unembellished clothing made of coarse fabric that can withstand moving through the fields and rough terrain while you covertly make your way towards your disappointment of a son.  What really sticks out to me though, is his wardrobe choice after he reunites with the turnip.  Instead of going back to the lavish and ornate clothing he used to wear, he opts for an understated gray and black outfit with no long train in sight:
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Turnip obviously can afford to put his dad in fancier clothing.  I mean look at the gaudy over-embroidered monstrosity that he’s wearing.  But it makes sense that Daddy Wang has now opted for something a bit more subdued and modest.  He’s been defeated once and is no longer the powerful prime minister he used to be.  Also, the Wangs do not hold as much clout as they used to because 1) empress has gone mad; 2) potato emperor is dead; and 3) the official head of the Wangs is now...Turnip.  
But make no mistake, his clothes may be simpler than before, but they’re still made out of very nice materials. He is after all, still Daddy Wang.  And Wang will rise again if he can help it! 
Next we have the seagull.  Ugh, yuck, gross, I hate her.  Anyway, now that I’ve gotten the bad taste out of my mouth...So for the majority of the drama we see her in light pastel colored clothing with little to no make up as if to imply that she’s a sweet, innocent thing:
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She’s also usually pretty covered up.  But then she becomes Concubine Su (ugh) and all of a sudden she’s in bold colors, wearing red lipstick, and most noticeably, gotten very breast-y
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Man, did Seagull make a wrong turn and accidentally stumble onto the set of The Empress of China?  She’s definitely got the tackiness to fit in with them.  This drastic shift in styling is clearly to signal to the audience that Seagull is now a seductress ready to do whatever it takes to hold onto that magical flute and never let go.  Also, whereas before she was a snake hiding in the grass, now it’s all out in the open (at least to the Wangs) just like her bosom.
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Look, she even gets her own long train to reflect just how useless she is.
And finally, we have Song Huaien, Cheng’s very own Single White Female who molds himself to whoever he happens to follow and takes on their personality and principals (or lack thereof).
In the beginning, he is stuck to Xiao Qi’s side like a shadow, dresses similar to him, and even wears his hair like him.  He’s like the kid brother who copies everything his cooler older brother does because he looks up to him. 
Notably, he’s the only one in the Ningshuo crew who wears his hair down with a half bun, just like Xiao Qi.  Hu Guanglie (RIP best bro) is XQ’s oldest friend and literally devoted his life to him, but he’s also his own man and did not need to copy XQ.  He never wanted to be him, he only wanted to serve him. 
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If you didn’t pay attention, you wouldn’t be able to tell who’s who.
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When you follow a brave, honorable general who’s sex on legs, you too will be a brave, honorable and sexy general.  Song Huaien never looked better than when he tried to emulate Xiao Qi.
Interestingly, when Song Huaien goes off with Awu and starts to fall for her, he also starts to incorporate some color into his previously all-black wardrobe.  I guess spring arrived in his heart even though it was the cold winter:
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Hm, now I’m starting to wonder if a part of his crush on Awu wasn’t influenced by his desire to be like XQ a little bit.  And then, sigh, he starts to get tempted by the riches of the capital city and the internal shift in his character is materialized externally through how he wears his hair in his first appearance in court:
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This is the first time we’ve seen him wear his hair in any style other than the usual loose half bun.  And of course, his top knot conforms and fits in with how the rest of the ministers wear their hair.  Now contrast that with Xiao Qi who only wore his hair in a top knot once:
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and then promptly went back to his usual hair style:
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Sure, he looked good with the top knot (when does he never look good), but it wasn’t him.  Unlike Song Huaien, XQ is secure in himself and knows who he is.  He is not easily swayed or corrupted.  That is why he is able to remain just like how he always has been, internally and externally.
The next change we see in Song’s appearance is his armor.  Now that he is Count Suyi, his armor is noticeably more ornate.  Unlike XQ’s armor, which remains pretty much the same barebones armor we’ve seen since the beginning, Song’s gets fancier and fancier as he gets more lured in by the nicer things in life.
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At this point, his hair is still down like before.  But then the next time we see him after his wedding, his hair style is changed into a high ponytail:
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Which is a very good look, don’t get me wrong, but it is again another physical representation of the change happening in Song internally.  It’s kind of a weird limbo he’s in because it’s not completely a top knot, but it’s definitely neater and closer to a top knot than his previous hairstyle.  At this stage, Song hasn’t completely crossed over to the dark side quite yet.  He’s still kind of wavering and going back and forth.  So a high ponytail that is a shift from his prior hairstyle but not quite the same as the nobles’ hairstyle makes sense.  He keeps this look for a while and even momentarily goes back to his less fancy self while dealing with the floods away from the capital.  That is, until he joins hands (or is it roots?) with Turnip and it’s all downhill from there, character-wise and also appearance-wise.
First, we have this very ill-advised mustache and goatee which mimics the same facial hair Turnip all of sudden started sporting:
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Matching facial hair to commemorate their entry onto the shit list, perhaps?  Anyway, turns out facial hair isn’t for everyone, including Song Huaien.  But this isn’t even the worst of it.  As Song Huaien continues his descent into being a greedy, spineless, puppet for Turnip (HIM of all people! or should I say, of all root vegetables?), he gets uglier and uglier.  I mean:
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He looks downright haggard and as if he aged 20 years overnight.  Notably though, he looks exactly like the rest of the useless ministers in court.  He has definitely lost the sheen, vigor, and hotness that he once had when he was following XQ.  It’s as if the ugly inside is reflected on the outside as well.
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I guess when you follow a weaselly coward like Turnip, you too will turn into a weaselly coward.  Oh Song Huaien, Song Huaien.  What a disappointment you turned out to be, you dumb, greedy bastard.   
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Pirate AU (Part Five)
Lucie watched Alastair gently clean his sisters wounds before bandaging them up.
Knowing how much they cared for each other, she had expected Alastair to be angry. And though he was ready to quite literally murder Tatiana, he didn’t seem mad at her. Lucie couldn’t say the same for herself. 
Cordelia had gotten hurt. She could’ve been killed if she wasn’t protecting Lucie. Dragging her out of her spiraling guilt, Thomas pressed a cup of tea into her hands, warming her cold fingers. He was also watching Alastair. 
“You could not have done anything to prevent this Lucie.” 
Lucie stilled. Thomas had arrived with Alastair who ended up sending a message to Eugenia. The three of them had helped Lucie clean up the glass and left Alastair to address Cordelia’s shoulder since he was the only one who knew any form of medical training. When Lucie had questioned him, he responded he knew how to do many things, like baking and tattooing. She had decided not to ask if he was being sarcastic. 
Thomas and Eugenia seemed fueled with purpose. Upon telling them Tatiana Blackthorn, the same woman responsible for the public marriage scandal between James and her daughter a few years back, was the one who had killed Barbra, they seemed more focused on vengeance than anything.
Eugenia snapped her fingers loudly. “Oi! Lucie, Thomas get over here.”
Alastair and her cousin had spread out a map of London they had acquired from the library. Combining the information that had come from Alastair and Lucie, they had placed that Tatiana was indeed another pirate, and apparently belonged or led one of the scariest crews to exist. Which was really just delightful for them.
After locating the ship’s docking point, Alastair had gone earlier, confirming that the ship was there and, judging by the symbol carved into its wood, the correct ship. 
“We need to get in somehow,” He said quietly while studying the maps.
Suddenly, Thomas looked up. “Christopher.”
“Who?” Alastair asked, staring as if Thomas had lost his mind. 
“My cousin, he makes things, if we need to break into a ship he’s quite good at making destructive things.”
And that, seemingly, was all it took. As her friends packed their items, discussing quietly, she watched Cordelia, still asleep, breathe softly in the firelight.
“I don’t want to leave her,” Alastair said, startling her. “But I trust you’ll take good care of her.” 
Lucie turned her face away. “For what happened… I’m sorry.”
Alastair looked up, surprised. "You needn’t apologize for that. My sister makes her own decisions, however ill-advised they may be sometimes. She won’t blame you and nor do I.”
Before Lucie could respond Eugenia rapped her knuckles on the door to grab their attention. She watched as they left, leaving her alone with an unconscious Cordelia. Mostly alone she thought, looking at her very tall friend who was staring at the fire. She sat next to him, crossing her legs on the couch and letting her head fall against his shoulder.
“Pirates,” He whispered, shaking his head lightly.
“Indeed,” Lucie responded before adding “Thomas, darling, have you seen what they wear?” 
Thomas laughed and bade her goodbye, following Alastair and Eugenia. 
~~~
Eugenia thought she had met her fair share of quiet people, but being in a carriage with Alastair was like being in a carriage with a well dressed mannequin. Thomas had mentioned needing to drop by one of his other friend’s houses and promptly abandoned Eugenia. 
“You found my brother.” She said, cutting into the silence.
“I did,” Alastair replied, still staring out the window.
How was it even possible for a person to talk this little? Eugenia made a frustrated noise and waved her hand in front of his face, smiling at his scowl.
“I’m trying to thank you,”
“I found your brother entirely by accident. I don’t think that’s praise-worthy.”
“Well you saved him by the sounds of it.”
“He told you?” Alastair sounded surprised. “Well I suppose I did it out of instinct. And a bit of thought went into how you would feel.”
Eugenia smirked, pretending to swoon. “He cares!”
Alastair swatted her arm before reaching into his coat. When his hand withdrew, there was a silver longsword in his grasp, the hilt littered with rubies. She sucked in a breath and reached her hand out to touch the engraved handle. She felt a jolt of surprise when Alastair gave it to her.
“All our weapons are gold anyway. It wouldn’t match. Try not to get yourself killed.” He went back to staring out the window, but Eugenia found she didn’t mind. 
~~~
Thomas ducked into Christopher’s lab, cursing London’s tiny doors to find his sister and Alastair already seated there. 
Christopher’s head was bent over his notebook, his hair nearly catching flame on an open fire before Alastair threw a damp towel at his head. 
“Thomas!” Christopher greeted, his face lighting up. 
“We need your help,” Alastair said. He seemed to hate any form of pleasantries. 
“With?”
“We need to get into a… very thick wooden box,” Eugenia cut in.
Christopher’s face clouded, and Thomas could practically see his mind working. Christopher was the smartest scientist in London and that Thomas could say with entire surety. He didn’t like keeping things from him, they had been inseparable for so long but this was not his secret to tell. 
He listened as Christopher told them what all he needed to create such a substance and Eugenia rose, offering readily to go to the market. Thomas thought he saw a flash of silver in her coat but she was gone before he could ask. His cousin’s face was in a deep revere of thought it seemed so Thomas left the room, Alastair close behind. 
~~~
Eugenia wished the cobblestones on the ground of this godforsaken market would swallow her up whole. She quite liked the boisterous activity and the loud arguing. What she did not feel so fond of was crouching in the alleyway like a lowlife trying to avoid her own family. Matthew Fairchild and Anna Lightwood were known to frequent illegal places and as much as Eugenia loved them, she wished she could snap her fingers and make them disappear. If they found her here they would certainly tell the rest of their friends, and Eugenia couldn’t risk putting Lucie and Thomas under scrutiny now. 
“Hello?” 
Eugenia cursed vehemently before turning around to face whatever person called out to her. 
And oh, Eugenia was going to positively faint. Someone would have to drag her out of the market and send her body home. There was a woman standing in the alleyway, a hat shaded half of her face but Eugenia knew it was just as lovely as the rest of her. The mystery woman brushed long black hair out of her dark brown eyes to study Eugenia. 
“Are you all right?” The woman asked with her perfectly shaped lips moving to help her up. 
No. “Yes! Of course.” 
She looked amused. “Is there a reason you're crouched in a dirty alleyway then?”
“A perfectly normal, justifiable reason yes.” When the woman waited for her to elaborate she added “I can’t let my family see me here.” 
“Ah,” She responded before sticking out her hand. “I’m Kamala.” 
“Eugenia.” 
“I came in through a back exit, I can take you through there.” Kamala hesitated then, and Eugenia realized that their hands were still interlocked. “If you would like that.” 
Well she couldn’t have said no to that.
~~~
Alastair, it seemed, liked to perch on dangerous places such as the third floor balcony. Thomas was caught between the urge to join him to see the appeal or pull him off so he wouldn’t get hurt. 
Thomas watched as he tipped his head back, his perfect dark hair rustling softly in the wind. Moving closer hesitantly, he placed his forearms on the railing, seeing Alastair’s eyes open from the corner of his vision. 
“Are you okay?” The words slipped out on their own accord.
Thomas turned, facing the shorter boy fully. Alastair’s entire being seemed stressed and worried and while Thomas understood why, an irrational part of him wanted to see if he could fix that. 
“We might die.” 
“Not a pleasant thought.” 
“I don’t care much what happens to me, but Cordelia and my mother can’t survive on their own.”
“Why? Cordelia seems capable enough.” 
Alastair shook his head, turning his eyes away as if he’d said too much. 
“Where have you sailed?” Thomas questioned, leaning back onto piller, sensing the signal for a subject change. He also couldn’t quite wrap his head around the “pirate” thing. 
“Many places. All of them were better than this repulsive town.
That startled a laugh out of Thomas. “I can understand that. I wish I could leave this city too sometimes.”
Alastair leaned closer and cocked his head to the side “Where would you go?”
Thomas flushed and leaned back. “Anywhere I suppose.”
Alastair looked as he was going to respond but the door banged open. Thomas jerked away, just realizing how close the two of them had been to look at Christopher. 
“Eugenia’s back.” He called, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between them. 
~~~
Cordelia felt as if someone had an iron arm clamped to her shoulder and was shaking her brain vigorously. She opened her eyes and groaned at the stabbing light. 
“Cordelia?”
Lucie, she tried to say but found that she could not. She felt an actual hand wrap around hers and soft fingers brush hair from her forehead. 
“It’s okay, don’t say anything.”
Slowly, Lucie’s outline cleared and she could see her lovely blue eyes hovering a few inches from her face. Suddenly it was hard to breathe for entirely different reasons. 
Lucie gently laid her hands on Cordelia’s arms, careful not to disturb her wounds. Cordelia found herself suddenly overwhelmed with how close her fire-lit skin was, the hesitant brush of an escaped curl against her neck. She never wanted to pull away. 
“I know you just got hurt on your shoulders,” she started hoarsely, “but I thought…” 
Cordelia, finally able to find her voice said “Never blame yourself Lucie. If it were to protect you I would do it a thousand times over.”
She heard Lucie’s breathing stop before she pulled away slightly, much to Cordelia’s disappointment. 
“They found the ship. We’ll find her too.” Lucie’s eyes blazed bright. “I want you to teach me, show me how you wield your weapons, set your ships on water. She took far too much already and I refuse to let her take more.” 
~~~
You know that one tik tok audio that’s like- “Everyone is just who they are and who they are is just stone cold gay?” Yeah that’s this fic
ALSO someone help me out who’s taller in Joshwood?
Tagging: @adoravel-fenomeno and @barbra-lightwood (Also I didn’t say this before but I can add you if you want)  
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punkpoemprose · 3 years
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December 12th- A Convenient Arrangement Part 4
Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 5336 Words A/N: Brain-rot I tell you. Brain-rot. Yes I’m aware it would be easier to catch up writing or finishing the drabbles and oneshots I have in my drafts but I can literally only think about this AU anymore.  I do have other ideas I really want to tackle though, so maybe I’ll try one of those next. We sure will see won’t we?
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Anna had not been particularly pleased by the knock on her door before the rising of the sun. That was, of course, until she’d heard it open, and saw a somewhat familiar figure through her one open eye. They’d been married for just a little over a full day and a half, and already seeing him there, hearing his voice, brought her comfort.
“Anna,” he’d said quietly, “We’ll have to leave soon if we want to get back before dark. I think I’d like to show you some places on the way.”
So she’d dragged herself from bed, and now in the closest thing she owned to travel clothes, she sat at his side, watching the sun rise in his wagon. She’d offered to have the horse master prepare the royal carriage, but he’d shrugged at the idea. She could already tell that he was the sort of person who wouldn’t have others do for him, what he could do for himself.
She could appreciate that. She’d spent many years trying to dodge the staff when they’d wanted to bathe her or dress her or clean up her quarters for her. She’d given her poor governess a run for her money in her younger years, and now there was some special satisfaction she found in the tacking of her own horse or the styling of her own hair.
She wore it down today, in a pair of braids to make it almost proper. Being with her husband she supposed she should be allowed to wear it however she liked. She did feel a bit bad for the surge of annoyance she’d felt the day before when she’d watched him brushing his reindeer when she just spent time ruminating on her own insistence at doing things on her own. She was stubborn, and he seemed to be as well in many ways.
The odds of that causing problems were likely high, but she still liked their odds.
“What’s it like to live so far from the city?” she asked, just to break the quiet between them as they made their way along the road, few others traveling along as they did.
She wondered if Kristoff knew that normally she’d be accompanied by guards for any trip like this outside the walls of the castle’s gates. She wondered if he knew that he now should be afforded the same guards, and whether he knew that she’d intentionally had him exit a rear gate so as to not catch attention when they’d left.
The last thing she wanted on her first day left entirely alone with her husband was to have an entourage of guards a few feet behind them at most. She’d thought to leave a note in the servant’s quarters for Kai and Gerda, as well as one under her sister’s office door before they set out, at least so that no one would think she was kidnapped, but she was still uncertain as to whether they’d send a platoon out after her anyway.
“Simple,” he said, “Quiet. When I’m in camp with the other harvesters or in the market selling ice it’s so loud. But at home it’s peaceful. Sometimes someone who knows me well enough to know where my home is will stop by to visit, usually family or another harvester, but otherwise it’s just me and Sven and the forest.”
It sounded nice, she thought. To live out in nature and see untamed plants and animals each day. But the quiet aloneness was something that made her uncomfortable to think about. She’d spent too many years in solitude, quiet, alone. She couldn’t imagine wanting that.
But he was free to go where he liked, and he has family and he has friends.
His self-imposed solitude was different than her enforced one.
It’s better to have a choice.
His hands were on the reins, leading his reindeer off the well-traveled road and toward a smaller wooded path ahead. The city was shrinking behind them, and while she thought that it might be nice to get away for a short time, she also couldn’t help but fear what would come ahead for them. The forest was probably less dangerous than the conversations they might have now that they were well and truly alone, away from the ears and eyes of staff and dignitaries and citizens of her castle and kingdom.
She wished that he’d let a hand fall, so that she could grip it for comfort.
***
She was leaning into his side a bit as Sven climbed the familiar path up and into the mountain. Trees lined the dirt road and in some places, he felt the wagon’s wheels crunch over fallen branches and encroaching shrubs. Had he been alone, and had he had his hatchet he may have spent some time clearing the road. It was used by only a few during the summer months. There were others that lived in his section of the mountain, but they were mostly older and while they helped keep the path, it was a job he took mostly for himself.
Hermits have to stick together.
But he wasn’t a hermit, at least not anymore. She was warm at his side, and he enjoyed the contact. It was not a cold morning, the summer sun rising was already warming their surroundings, but the shade of the branches above was keeping it cool. They hadn’t been speaking for a while, and he wasn’t sure what to say. She’d been doing most of the talking, and he’d answered her when prompted. He’d told her about ice harvesting and the work it required, about his preferences for hands on work over more cerebral tasks despite doing well enough with them to keep himself and his ice business afloat.
She’d told him about growing up in the castle, being trained for duties she’d not been asked to fulfil when the gates had been closed, and how she wasn’t truly certain what was going to happen next. She’d mentioned that they’d be expected to make appearances, and that while they didn’t rule, they’d be prepared to do so in the event that Elsa could not.
“My sister has no interest in providing the kingdom with an heir,” she’d said, “The throne will be mine someday, whether I want it or not. People are going to want me to ensure someone will fill it after as well. Our kingdom is peaceful, the monarchy is well liked, but a power vacuum could be deadly nevertheless.”
It had been the last thing she’d said before the quiet had overtaken them. They’d spoken briefly of heirs and children on their wedding night, mostly to assure her that she’d never have to provide him with any, but he wasn’t sure now if it were something that she might have taken the wrong way. He tried to recall whether he’d qualified the statement with a willingness to someday have children if she wanted them, but he was uncertain.
“Do you want children?”
She was quiet, but she didn’t shift from his side. He took it as a good sign and let his hand drop from the reins, knowing that Sven knew the path ahead and that he could control him well enough with a single hand.
She took it, her fingers lacing through his as they both kept their eyes on the path ahead.
“I never thought about it much,” she said, “Well I thought about it sometimes, but not about whether I would want to or not. Princesses married, they had children, they raised future monarchs, and with Elsa being as she is… well I just always knew it would be my duty. I was very romantic as a child though, I liked to dream of weddings and things. I always thought I’d marry for love like my parents did.”
He squeezed her hand, trying to be as reassuring as possible.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have a choice.”
She looked at him then, he saw it out the corner of his eye and so he turned to her in return. Her eyes were rueful, her smile weak. “I’m sorry you didn’t either. I never asked… was there someone else that you…?”
“No.”
He thought maybe he answered too quick, especially when there was a spark of surprise in her eye. He couldn’t imagine why it would, he surely had to be blundering enough in his attempts at supporting her that she could tell he’d never been in a relationship before. But then again, she’d been alone for so long, and while he didn’t know much about her last relationship, he knew that she was also new to their situation if nothing else. Maybe she wasn’t sure of what being in a relationship was supposed to be like either.
“Sorry, I… no. I’ve never been interested in anyone before you.”
She flushed, her face going bright red. He wasn’t really sure what he’d said that elicited the response until she looked down at her feet and quietly replied.
“So you are interested? In me… that is?”
It was his turn to flush then. He looked away from her, toward the brush along the side of the path, taking note of the plants they passed, staring at trees and stones and anything but her. Because he was interested.
She’s beautiful.
She’s kind.
I’m not worthy of her.
She’s my wife.
“How could I not be Anna?”
***
The light breeze that swept its way across the small clearing buffeted the loose hairs around her face, tickling at her nose. Her sleep addled hands had done their best in braiding, but clearly she’d missed some pieces.
Kristoff’s hand was in hers again, helping her down from the wagon. It was a lucky thing too, her legs feeling like jelly with how long she’d been sitting.
She fell a bit, into his chest, and she didn’t mind at all when his other arm wrapped around her back, stabilizing her, holding her until she righted herself. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the various conversations they’d had on their way, but particularly the one where he’d told her that he was, in fact, interested in her.
It shouldn’t matter really. They were married after all. But the idea that her husband might have an interest in her beyond the title and duty to be wed, meant something. She was interested in him too.
He’s funny, and kind, and…
She had to tune out her own thoughts in order to quiet the commentary on his arms and chest and the attractiveness of his features. She lost the battle though, at least thinking about his strength, when she righted herself again and let her hand run down his chest.
“I hope you won’t be too disappointed,” he said, not dropping her hand as he led her toward one of the two buildings that filled the space. “It’s nothing fancy.”
She knew that she couldn’t possibly be disappointed. All she’d wanted from this trip was to get away from the castle for a bit, to get to know him a little better. She’d already been given that and more. His hand was in hers; he’d said that he was interested in her, and nothing had fallen apart around her yet.
The grass in the field around them was a bit taller than it was in the pasture where she rode her horse, but the ground was mostly level and easy to walk on. He’d already unhitched Sven who was munching on it happily. He wasn’t tied up, but stayed in the bounds of the space without difficulty.
The animal was smart. She could tell that he was either well trained, or had a bond with Kristoff that at least made him appear so. She wondered how old the reindeer was, and how long Kristoff had been his “best friend”.
She thought that maybe sometime the information would come up naturally. Or at least she hoped so. There were some mysteries she wanted him to answer for her naturally, rather than offer in response to her many questions.
The building was small, larger than the other that appeared to be a stable and storage space, but still smaller than even her smallest drawing room. It was built of logs, long, but thin compared to the trunks of the trees around her, and bare of bark. They were stacked high, perhaps ten feet, and appeared to be expertly aligned to create the walls. Into the face a few small windows were inset into the wood, and the roof, made of thick wooden shingles that were well aged with the sun and weather. A few appeared to be split, maybe as a result of the freezing and thawing of the winter’s snow and ice.
She’d seen winters split the flagstones in the garden path at the palace and supposed it might to do the same to shingles. She took note of the simplicity of the structure, just a rectangle of wood with the space broken only by the windows, the single front door, and the stone chimney that had been laid up the end.
Nothing about it was perfect. The logs that made up the walls were tightly laid together, and she had no doubt that it was weather tight, but the logs were cut to different lengths on the end, almost lined up, but not quite. The chimney had a slight lean to it, and the door and windows were not even close to centered on the buildings front. It had been made by eye, she could tell, and it was lovely.
She wanted to ask if he’d made it himself, but she felt as if she might be disappointed to learn if it hadn’t been. She was already imagining him, maybe a year or two younger, without a shirt and hauling the heavy supplies across the clearing himself.
She supposed his family must have helped. That’s what families did, or at least that was true to her memory of what having a full family was like. It was fuzzy around the edges, even with her parents death not having been long ago, because Elsa hadn’t really been part of the family since she was quite small.
When they made it to the front door, he opened it for her and helped her take the step up into the interior which was lit warmly by sunlight through the two windows that had been visible to her on the front of the building as well as another slightly larger one on the back. Small dust motes danced like fireflies in the light, and she realized rather quickly that it was a home of practicality rather than fashion. The main room was, less of a room and more a space. She saw a stove, a small fireplace, a table with a single chair, a chest, and a cot in the space with little else.
“It’s not fancy,” he reiterated, stepping into his home behind her, “Nothing like what you’re used to, but it’s mine.”
She thought for a moment about what it would be like to live there.
She’d want to hang curtains, maybe polish the stove a bit, and add a rug to the center of the floor, and maybe some hooks on the wall to hang jackets in the winter, but otherwise it was someplace she could, at least, imagine staying for a few nights.
She didn’t really think that she needed much. The amenities of the castle had always been nice, but she thought that she might be able to, perhaps, be happy without them. Running water was, however, one thing that she knew she’d miss if she were ever to live anywhere without it.
“It’s perfect,” she said, and she meant it, because it was his, and that’s all it needed to be.
***
He’d left her with express permission to do all the exploring and digging through his home that she liked. He had nothing to hide from her, and he supposed that it might make her happy to see his home and his things. He was getting to know her home, and while he supposed he wouldn’t be spending much time in his cabin anymore, he thought it only right for her to get to know his too. Her zeal after being given permission was something that surprised him, as if she had wanted to know if she could explore but had been too scared to ask.
I don’t want her to ever be afraid to ask something of me.
Still though, with her joy, there had been some visible sadness when he’d told her that he needed to leave for a short while. Normally he would ride Sven the moderate distance to the valley where his family lived, but instead he left the animal in Anna’s care, or perhaps he left Anna in his care. Sven was, for a very long time, the only living being other than his family that he trusted without a second thought. He was starting, even after such a short time, to put Anna in that category as well, and so he knew that he could trust the animal to keep her company or get her back to the city if need be, just as he also felt comfortable with leaving her to keep the creature from running off or getting tangled up in anything he shouldn’t.
She already seemed to like him, he’d noticed the way she’d scratched his head gently before they’d left in the morning, and somehow a small pile of carrots had appeared in the wagon while they were on the road. It may have been bribery on her part, though it was unnecessary. Sven in his own way, had already shown that he liked her too. It was another reason why he thought that being married to Anna might be something he would not only be able to bear, but to enjoy. Sven was an excellent judge of character.
When he reached the valley it appeared empty, void of everything but the occasional mushroom, tuft of grass, and bit of moss growing on the oddly placed stones in the space. He knew better of course, but to the untrained, unknowing eye, who probably couldn’t find the valley in the first place, it would just be another stretch of the mountain to pass through.
“I’m home,” he called.
He could feel the love in the space as a few stones slowly unsettled themselves from the dirt and rolled toward the shaded area of tree line he’d just emerged from. The mossy stones were large but didn’t come up much higher than his knee as he walked back into the shade to where they’d settled.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I have something I need to tell you.”
The rocks rocked a bit, then popped apart into small humanoid figures. The one he called his mother gave him a sleepy smile as the one he called his father yawned, and the one he called his grandfather looked on expectantly. Grand Pabbie was always the first to have his wits about him when he woke, being the oldest and least effected by the exhausting light of the sun.
“It must be urgent,” the old troll said, already reaching out to grasp Kristoff’s hand in support, his brow scrunched as he tried to determine what was going on.
The two trolls that he called his parents came to shortly after, reaching for him and clasping his larger hand in between their smaller ones.
“I wanted to come and tell you yesterday, or before I even left but… I’m married.”
“Married?”
His father looked skeptical, as if he were about to start checking him for head trauma. Then rubbed his eyes with his unoccupied hand.
“Married like wed? To another human?”
His wife, Kristoff’s mother, bumped the troll with a look of cut-it-out-right-now-or-so-help-me on her face, then turned to give Kristoff a radiant smile.
“It doesn’t matter if she’s human or not… or if he is… or if it is. Our baby is in love! When do we get to meet… uh… your spouse?”
Kristoff flushed and it had nothing to do with the warm afternoon air.
“I’m not in love… or at least I’m not… I think I could be but we’re… We’re just married…” He found it much more difficult to explain than he could have imagined on his walk over, and so he just settled for the most basic information he could manage, “She’s human. Her name is Anna. Actually, well… Princess Anna.”
“Oh God,” his father said, “He’s kidnapped a Princess. I told you that we needed to stop pressuring him into finding someone Bulda. We’re going to have to move the valley, raise the protection crystals, explain kidnapping to the kids...”
The elder troll gave the other two an exhausted look, and then shook his head as he and Kristoff watched the two begin bickering. It was a loving sort of argument, but a boisterous one nevertheless.
“Princess Anna…” Grand Pabbie said thoughtfully, “The daughter of Agnarr and Iduna, yes? Is she the one with ice powers? I’m old and I can’t quite recall which one had which name. Elsa was one and Anna the other as I recall. One should be Queen by now I suppose. I know King Agnarr and his wife have passed.”
Kristoff shot the old troll a confused look. Of course, the trolls knew some of the goings on in the kingdom below and surrounding their valley, but Kristoff wasn’t aware that he knew of the girls beyond anything he’d mentioned. In the time before the last three days, he’d rarely if ever mentioned much about the human world below to his family, assuming that they wouldn’t be interested.
“I’m sorry Pabbie, I don’t understand… Ice powers? You mean those rumors about the Queen…”
Pabbie gave Kristoff an uncharacteristically wry smile.
“You have trolls for family, and you thought people telling you that the Queen of Arendelle had the ability to control ice was too wild a tale to be true?”
He would have laughed at himself were he not so confused.
“They say she froze the land, but I never noticed anything. My cabin wasn’t struck by an ice storm and while I didn’t leave home often when they say the event occurred, I’m sure I would have noticed the drop in temperature, or my clearing being covered in snow.”
“You wouldn’t have noticed a thing unless you left our area of protection and your cabin is well within it,” the old troll answered, “I forget sometimes that while you’re our kin, you’re not of our blood. You couldn’t feel the surge of magic when it occurred, or when it ended. I imagine an act of sacrifice, or perhaps one of true love. I lack the details. But you say you married the Princess then? So not the one with the ice powers, the one with the red hair. A strange thing that is given your history.”
“You don’t mean?”
His mother was the one who asked, done bickering with his father. She released his hand to cross the space to where her father, Grand Pabbie, was nodding sagely.
“I do. I doubt he recalls as we do Bulda, but there’s fate at work here.”
“Fate?”
Kristoff felt, not for the first time amid his adopted family, utterly confused. They often spoke cryptically, jumped to conclusions, or otherwise reacted to things in ways that befuddled him. They were kind, loving creatures, but he knew that in some ways they would never understand each other as completely as they loved each other.
“Kristoff,” his father asked, “How much do you recall of the day you became our son? And your wife… Anna… does she have red hair with a streak of white in it?”
Nothing can ever be simple, can it?
***
When Kristoff returned it was well into the afternoon. Anna had managed to not only fully make her way through the features and belongings of his home, but also of the stable and storage space. She’d taken in the neat rows of his small garden, and picked wildflowers from the clearing around his home, accompanied by the loose reindeer. She’d made them into a crown which sat delicately on the beast’s head, well designed to account for his antlers.
She’d seen little that surprised her amongst his things. Clothes, tools, a ledger of his business expenses and earnings, some miscellaneous personal affects like soap and linens and various things she’d never found interesting until it was his. His little home was neat, and tidy, and while a bit dusty in some places, overwhelmingly clean. She thought perhaps, from the variety of things she found of his, the worn but well cared for tools and the simple but clean stove with few pans, that he took pride in his simple life. It was reinforced by what she knew of him.
The standout in his things had been in the bottom of the chest that held his clothes. Amongst shirts and trousers and vests and winter things, she’d found three small but lovely crystals. One was blue, one was yellow, and one, which she thought for half a moment had glowed at her touch, was pink. She’d run her fingers over their facets, noted their clarity, and had then settled them gently back in with the rest of his things. She had plenty of jewels of her own, but nothing so simple and lovely. She wasn’t certain as to why they sat in the bottom of the chest, and while she thought that she might sometime ask him, she still felt nervous about the fact that she’d snooped at all, even with his permission.
She’d been feeding Sven carrots when he arrived, looking almost harried in a way she was unused to seeing him as he quickly broke through the tree line and walked towards her. She couldn’t help recoiling a bit from him in surprise when he walked up to her and with speed and little tact, lifted one of her braids from her shoulders and studied it.
She dropped the carrot she’d been holding, and the reindeer huffed as his owner held, not tightly, onto her hair and held it up a bit to the sun.
“Where did you get this?”
It took her a moment to understand. So much time away from people who didn’t know her had lead her to sometimes forget that having a shock of white hair mingled with the rest was something that was uncommon. It stood out rather well from her red hair, and while she’d often forgotten about it when styling her own hair, she supposed that they had intentionally hidden it as well as they could for the wedding. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised that it would have taken her hair being styled down for him to take notice of it.
She was just surprised to see him so interested in it while being so agitated. It almost scared her for a moment until she caught sight of a gleam in his eye. There was interest there, and nothing malicious in the least. She thought that she might be able to refuse telling him and that he would drop it, but there was no reason for it.
She wasn’t vain, and he may as well think that she was silly.
Everyone else always has.
“I think I was born with it. I don’t remember it ever not being there. Though once, when I was young, I  dreamt it appeared because I was kissed by a troll.”
Kristoff ran his fingers over it gently then. She saw him look almost adoring as he did so, her eyes glancing between the soft curve of a smile on his lips, and the stroking of his fingers against her braid. He set it carefully, almost reverently, back on her shoulder before he smiled more solidly and reached down to take her hand in his.
She let his fingers lace through his and felt her heart race a bit as he moved even closer to her and  loosened his grip on her hand to rub his thumb in slow circled over her palm.
“Anna.”
His face inches from hers so all she could see were his eyes, his lips. He was suddenly her whole world.  
“Yes?”
Her response was barely louder than a breath. She might not have believed that she said it at all if it weren’t for the way his smile broadened. He made a sound like a soft chuckle, but seemed almost as breathless as her, when he whispered.
“Do you believe in fate?”
I want to.
“I… I don’t understand.”
He gave her an understanding look, and then took a half step away from her, still holding her hand, beckoning her to follow him back towards the forest he’d exited moments before.
“I don’t think I could explain it… But Anna… Would you stay here with me a night if it meant meeting my family? They have something to tell you.”
She knew that she should be worried, that warning bells should be going off in her head. She wondered if her parents were rolling in their graves, screaming stranger danger. She wondered if she had been crazy to trust him and follow him into the middle of nowhere.
He won’t hurt me.
You thought that once before.
Her thoughts were warring again, but her feet were following him.
Trust him.
When you trusted before you almost died.
She could feel the ice in her blood, in her chest, but she could also feel the heat of his hand, the slow circles he was still drawing, almost absent mindedly. She didn’t let the cold overtake her, the memory of someone putting out fires and laughing at her foolishness put aside until there was only this moment, there was only Kristoff.
Trust.
So she did.
“We’ll have to send word to the castle somehow, if we plan to stay longer than dark… I don’t want my sister to be worried about me, but I… I would like to meet your family. Yes.”
His grin was the brightest she’d ever seen alight his face. His brown eyes practically glowed with the afternoon light and the warmth of his expression settled on her like a blanket on a cold day.
Kristoff. My husband.
She followed him to the forest edge, leaving behind the clearing and entering the shaded wilds knowing that he would carry her through.
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amyonrails · 3 years
Text
Traveling to Sweden by train
Things are slowly calming down again so I decided to spend a one week vacation in the Swedish city of Gothenburg. I want to share this journey with people as I promised friends to take lots of pictures anyway and because it personally means quite a lot to me to finally get out there again. Not only is this finally a proper vacation after a year and a half of sitting at home a lot with the coronavirus pandemic making it unfeasible to travel anywhere farther than where the S-Bahn could carry me. But this is also my first international journey in just over 10 years. Finally I feel comfortable taking on such a trek and because I am apparently a bit silly and like trains I decided to do this journey (nearly) all by train.
Planned route
Now how does one get from Berlin to Gothenburg by train? The route I will be taking starts in Berlin from which I will first board an ICE (InterCity Express; the German high speed train class of DB) to Hamburg to change to an IC (InterCity; a high-ish speed service) which is a joint operation by DB and the Danish national train service taking me all the way to the Danish capital of Copenhagen. From there I can take the Öresundtåg (literally Öresundtrain) over the Öresundbridge across the (can you guess it?) Öresund between Denmark and Sweden. The Öresundtåg stops in the city of Malmö, where I get a high speed train by the Swedish operator SJ that will get me to my destination.
This is quite a trip with a few changes and because I planned this with change times of at least 30 minutes in case there are delays the whole journey will take about 13 hours. The straight distance between the two cities is about 580 kilometres but due to the detour over Jutland the distance actually traveled is closer to 1000 kilometres.
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(the route vaguely traced in Google Maps)
I booked the tickets online a few weeks ahead and paid for all second class tickets about 70 € in total (and again about 70 € for the return trip). This was actually quite pleasant. The whole first part of the journey up to Malmö I was able to plan with the website of DB, which cooperates nicely with services of neighboring countries. The booking website of SJ was also easy to use, very user friendly and has a good English translation.
The paperwork
So because this is an international journey we have to consider paperwork of course. You can’t just travel to another country, surely there is a bunch of hoops you have to jump through, right? Well, because of the circumstances, kinda but not really.
First off: no visa required. I am a German citizen and am thus allowed to travel freely within the Schengen-area and the only required document is my ID card. And that is only in case I actually get carded. On train connections that is only done occasionally, but of course I will have my ID with me, so that will not be an issue.
Due to the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic it is also necessary to bring either a negative test result when crossing borders or a certificate of vaccination against the virus. Which I got. You can have it in paper or digitally and two weeks after your second shot you are free to travel again. No quarantining or anything. I got vaccinated anyway, so this was no issue at all.
Over all this got sorted pretty easily and I quickly had everything I need.
As a slight hint for anyone traveling to Sweden for the first time: paying in cash is incredibly uncommon especially in the cities there so I very much advise getting a credit card. I used a simple card I could charge with a bit of money, which I got from my bank with no additional cost and due to the limited money on it, losing it would not have been that bad as well.
Potential obstacles
But of course, stuff happened. Or rather, would maybe happen. I am writing this portion slightly ahead and at the end of reading this you will know, how it actually played out. As will I know, because by then I hopefully will have arrived.
Over the summer of 2021 the train drivers union GDL started talks with DB about raises and compensation over the additional hours drivers had done during the pandemic. Talks broke down though and thus they started striking.
There are more internal factors at play here as well but I am not in the know enough to properly judge or even explain the whole picture. But in the end it also does not really matter because I can’t really change it that quickly. So I have to live with the potential of the trains in Germany being canceled due to strikes. Only in Germany though. As soon as I reach Denmark I will be fine.
The strikes are not full time. They usually go on for two or three days and then normal service resumes within a few hours. And they tend to stick to work days. Which might mean I get lucky as I will depart on a Saturday. But I will watch the news closely and may have to rapidly come up with a backup plan.
Additionally and a bit hilariously I will have to switch onto a rail replacement bus on my journey to Gothenburg. Just on the weekend where I will travel they are doing some bridgework between Malmö and the town of Lund. This is certainly an inconvenience, but I just hope it will work out okay, as it is not that far to Lund. If this was not the case, I would have been able to make this journey exclusively with electric trains.
The strike
And of course it had to happen. On Monday the 30th of August the union announced a strike that would cover a whole week and with that, cover the weekend I wanted to travel on.
But no reason to panic yet. This gave me a few days to figure out how to navigate around this. By Tuesday afternoon DB had figured out which services would still be running.
I got pretty unlucky though. During this strike no DB service would run from Hamburg to Copenhagen. So it became necessary to find another way.
Thankfully I remembered the provider Snälltåget. They run a night train from Berlin all the way to Stockholm with stops in larger cities. Like for example Malmö.
And so for an additional price of just 10€ in total I got my DB ticket refunded, bought a ticket for the Snälltåget service from Saturday 7 in the evening to arrive on Sunday at around 8 in the morning and shifted the ticket I had bought with SJ to a train on Sunday.
Overall that was not nearly as bad as I initially feared and by Tuesday afternoon I had rescheduled.
The journey
Saturday came and in the evening it got time to head out. Due to the strike the S-Bahn service in Berlin was also pretty dodgy so I opted for a route with U-Bahn and bus. Which worked pretty well. The bus was a bit crowded but the whole trip was only a few minutes slower than any S-Bahn connection available to me.
Berlin central station is a very modern steel and glass construction that is very vertical with platforms going east-west above ground and platforms going north-south below ground. Due to the strike there were only few trains around but there were still some passengers taking the few trains in service.
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(a view along the upper platforms at Berlin central station with the low sun shining through the glass roof)
About 20 minutes before departure my train pulled onto the platform. Four carriages pulled by an electric loco. Very quickly I had found my seat and was happy to see us depart perfectly on time at 19:02. But then had to stop for twenty minutes just after leaving the city behind, because unauthorized people were on the track.
For this section with Snälltåget I had booked the most basic seat. Fortunately the person who boarded the train in Hamburg at around 22:00 seated next to me found another free seat, so neither of us had to be crammed in our seats and attempt to sleep.
Ah yes, sleep. As this was a night train a reasonable thing to do is to sleep. Unfortunately a few things got in the way of that. Firstly, the cabin light in the open saloon was never turned off. It was comparatively low, but still bright enough to disrupt sleep.
And then came the stop just behind the Danish border. In the small town Padborg, the loco that had hauled us all the way from Berlin got replaced by a Danish locomotive. This is due to a difference in voltage between the countries’ catenary equipment. That alone would have been fine, but unfortunately the Danish border guards deem it necessary to check every single train. And if that means disrupting 200 peoples sleep each night at 2 in the morning then they will do it. Which is what they did.
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(empty platforms at Padborg, only some bright lamps break the darkness in the dead of night while the border guards board the train)
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(the sun is just barely rising over the flat and still dark Danish countryside)
During the next few hours I managed to catch a bit of uneasy sleep until the early dawn. Because I realized, that we were nearing Copenhagen I decided to just stay awake and watch the landscape zip by as the sun crept up. And it was worth it.
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(banks of mist over fields)
Fields covered in mist like ghostly apparitions. And right as the sun really rose and made it easy to see, we crossed the Öresundbridge. A wonderful view.
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(the metal frame of the Öresundbridge with the sea visible in the background, the sun is shining just out of frame to the right)
After the bridge it was not far to the city of Malmö. Unfortunately we were delayed slightly again. Slowly I felt like fate was trying to keep me from reaching my destination.
But because I was cautious this delay was not enough to mess with my plans. The train arrived slightly delayed at around 08:30.
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(the loco that had pulled me through the bit of Sweden I had crossed this far sitting at a platform in Malmö)
I did not take time to look at Malmö central station, but from what I saw it is a nice station with the older platforms being complemented by a modern building housing some shops. But I had a bus to catch, so I headed for one of the exits.
Some helpful staff was able to point me to the replacement bus I now had to take to get to Lund. The bus trip, while a bit inconvenient was actually a nice change. And I got dropped off right in front of the train station an hour before my train was due to depart.
And that last leg of the journey was very pleasant. The X55 even in second class was wonderful to ride. Good leg space, large windows, pleasant decor and a comfortable ride paired with sunny views of the Swedish countryside. This train made it immediately clear to me, that Swedish rail has a wider loading gauge than most other countries and the cars are built accordingly with lots of room. Zooming through hills and past fields at not very high speeds was just a delight.
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(a bit of Swedish countryside with fields and farm buildings under a blue sky, in the distance one can just about see the coastline)
And after about 2 and a half hours my final train for that day pulled into Gothenburg central station. Which is a wonderful old station that has been maintained very well. The main concourse still has it’s original dark wood framing and large murals show different old railway lines all under an iron and glass ceiling, which makes it feel large but still cozy. Even tired as I was, I was surprised by how nice this station is.
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(the main concourse in Gothenburg central station)
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(the front of Gothenburg central station in broad daylight)
From the central station one can easily get anywhere in the city with the many trams or a bus which stop just a hundred meters from the station entrance.
In conclusion
This whole trip is now about two weeks in the past and I had some time to think about it. In general I still think this is a good way to get to Sweden, especially if you are on a budget. Next time I want to try out a proper cabin with a berth on the night train, because I am just too tall to sleep in any way comfortably in a seat.
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capri-ramblings · 4 years
Text
I haven't written in a while and this is literally my first fic writing for Twisted Wonderland, so it's a bit dry and boring but after playing one of @malleusthorns 's click and drag game i just had to write something with my result lmao.
Lilia is a character I've yet to get to know so forgive me if he's a bit ooc here (╯︵╰,) anyways hope this isn't So bad since I'm planning to write a bunch of others •́ ‿ ,•̀
Thanks again to malleusthorn for this spark of inspo (probably ruined by my horrible writing)
* * * *
Things happened so fast, I didn't think I got any of it at all until I was blinded by darkness. Shoved into a closet with someone I've only ever met once, all the while the people I call my friends snickered behind the door that separates us.
I shifted in the closet, a habit whenever I got nervous.
Lilia shifted as well but I couldn't see him until a small green light appeared and his face was illuminated by it.
He had a small smile on his lips, his features ethereal and youthful resembling a porcelain doll made with precise skills. Really, I might be exaggerating, but Lilia had an eternal feel to his demeanor, as if his beauty came from countless lifetimes.
He tilted his head then, the ball of green light in his palm glistening. I realized then he had said something and I was just staring at him.
"Uh,sorry, did you say something, Lilia-senpai?", I tried my best not to sound flustered but given our situation, I'm pretty sure half of the school would know I was losing composure.
Damn that Ace and Grimm, next time Azul gives you anemones, I'd let Floyd squeeze you dry before helping again.
"Hmm, you seem troubled", he said slightly airy yet thoughtful. "You know usually whenever I'm troubled with something I sing a song to help me think, would you like me to teach you a song to sing?"
His eyes were wide and genuine then, like a clear crystal filled with thoughts brimming with eccentricity. Lilia at the moment, kinda reminded me of a kid rather than a senior.
"Ah! You're smiling!" He leaned in closer as his lips curled into a smile as well.
"Hey, your smile is a wonderful thing to see! If that was the case, you should smile more often!"
"Ahahaha...even when I'm forced to do things I don't really want to do at first but I can't really refuse cause Principal Crowley would use my freeloading existence here as blackmail?" I closed my eyes and crossed my arms, feigning a thinking gesture. "I'll give it a try"
Lilia laughed then,so full and warm it took me by surprise. His hands came to hold my shoulders,giving it a friendly shake.
"Hahahaha! That's the spirit! You have a good sense of humour too!"
"...Huh, anyways, Lilia-senpai, are you okay with this?" He looked at me, eyes shifting from enthusiastic to curious. His smile didn't fade when he spoke.
"With what?"
"Um, this seven minutes in heaven thing. I know I'm kinda the last person you'd wanna hang with for seven minutes of your life"
"Hmm,is that so?" Something in his gaze shifted then,a mist of thought I couldn't catch in time. It wasn't unsettling,though I felt a chill ran up my spine anyway.
"And why would you say that,little lantern?"
"L-Little lantern..?"
"Ahahaha! It suits you doesn't it? Your smile just now reminded me of a lantern I saw long ago"
"Well... It's cute, I guess"
His eyes closed, that same warm chirp of a laugh coming from him again. "Say, why wouldn't I want to spend seven minutes of my time with you?" He asked, pretty close to me, maybe a bit too close. I let out a dry laugh, and gestured dismissively with my hand.
"Well,for a start I'm not really the most interesting person in this school."
"I think I can beg to differ,little lantern. You're someone without magic, a child of man, and yet the black carriage carried you here to this school and for months now you've been able to make due with whatever is thrown your way,despite what has been thrown your way, and you do it with a clear conscience too." He tilted his head again, eyes glistening like the light he held so gracefully In the palm of his hands. At that moment, I thought I was looking at something very ancient.
"O-Oh...I didn't really see it that way.." I shuffled back, attempting to create distance, but my back collided against the door.
"Ah,sorry I was taking up a lot of space, wasn't I?" Lilia laughed but his gaze fixated on me as if searching for something before it didn't and we were back to staring at each other, not really knowing what to say.
'Man,and I thought those leech twins were hard to read..'
"Say, wouldn't you like to know how to use magic?"
"Huh?"
"You really like spacing out don't you? Little lantern if you don't keep your guard up something might happen with the little time we have now"
"...What exactly could happen?"
"Hmm, I wonder what could happen"
"That's why I asked—"
Lilia took hold of my hand then, bringing up to his face.
"We have a few minutes left, you wanna try your luck?"
"I don't know. Are you gonna turn me into a toad or something"
"Eh? You're a funny one indeed, little lantern. Here,first I'll do this" Lilia placed his hand underneath mine, holding it so my palm was open, then he let his gaze bore into it before a warm sensation began pooling on my hand. A faint sense of power enveloping it.
"Wha... Lilia-senpai—"
"Eh,what a nice reaction. There, try it!"
He let his grasp turn loose and I pulled my hand away, inspecting it like it wasn't even my own hand. Somehow,it felt different...
Lilia kept his eyes on me, a smile in both his gaze and on his lips. I looked back at my hand, sighed.
"Yolo,right?" I smiled back at him.
"Eh,Yolo?"
"Ah, nevermind. What should I do by the way? I'm kinda clueless here..."
"Hmm,maybe try floating something, that's a basic skill I'm sure you'll get right off the bat!"
My gaze searched around the room then,all the while I was wondering how I got into this situation in the first place. Why was there even a party at this hour? Ugh, this school will be the death of me, I swear.
I sighed again, and at that moment I felt something crawl up onto my leg.
I locked eyes with Lilia who was still staring at me, his hand was still holding the green light.
Ah,so it's not him?
I stiffened.
"...Lilia-senpai?"
"Hm,is something the matter, Little lantern?"
My lips parted, and the crawling came again. Goosebumps greeted my whole body.
"Little Lantern,are you okay?"
I clenched my teeth. "I think there's something climbing on my leg...!" The words came out in a hurry and had Lilia widening his gaze before he looked down and seemed like he wanted to crouch with the light to see better but I grabbed at his hand, sweating.
"Don't move! What if you make it crawl faster?"
"Then how am I supposed to help you?"
"Use your magic!"
He chuckled,his free hand coming up to slightly cover his mouth. "Isn't the light I'm using now part of my magic?"
Then he really did crouch down, the light illuminating my lower half. I closed my eyes before it had a chance to trail down, but once silence stilled in the room. I desperately wanted to scream.
"Lilia-senpai..?"
"Don't move." His voice lost it's friendliness. A brusque shift from light to authoritive in mere seconds. I shut my eyes even harder, skin crawling with goosebumps. Lilia didn't answer, instead straightening his body before he looked me in the eyes.
"Everything's okay, just don't move. I'll get rid of that thing on your leg"
"What thing?" I asked,panic lacing my words. I wanted to cringe so bad but the fear of not knowing what was latching onto me had me frozen in place.
"Nothing I can't handle"
"That's not really comforting..."
"I'm your senior aren't I?" He said then, smiling gently at me again with the same warmth from before. "Even if we're from different dorms, I wouldn't hurt someone under my care"
I nodded my head,flustered once more. "Okay"
I expected some monster to be illuminated by Lilia's light and him destroying it with his magic students from other dorms talk about with astonishment.
What I didn't expect was for him to suddenly let out a yelp and the room going dark once more as I felt his body tumble ontop of me and the door to the closet opening, causing both of us to stumble out with a loud thud as we fell to the ground.
The light seemed to burn my eyes, but my chest and back held more pain from the fall.
Ace's voice reached me first.
"Wowie, someone got excited,huh?"
"Kantokusei! Are you alright?" Came Deuce's voice next and a couple of other murmurs.
The weight from Lilia was gone and as I sat up to answer both Ace and Deuce, from the darkened closet something flew out and smacked me right in the face.
Ace and Deuce let out panicked screams while I fell onto my back again, my face throbbing.
"Ara Ara, it seems like I missed" It was Lilia, and he was already on his feet, looming over my fallen figure. He was smiling but his eyes held worry in them as he reached out a hand for me to grab.
"The door opened so suddenly, if it didn't, I doubt the flip flop would've hit you, Little lantern"
"What the hell just happened?" Ace said aloud, his eyes wide as he stared at us both. Deuce had helped me up along with Lilia and actually had Grim run off to get me a drink, but my gaze went to Lilia first who was repeating apologies with his eyes.
"Kantokusei,are you okay? That flip flop really went and smack you..."
I smiled, a sudden amusement bubbling in my throat. I stared at Lilia who seemed to glow with hidden laughter as well and nodded my head. Slightly laughing when the words leave my mouth.
"The next round,we're shoving Ace in the closet alone"
"Eh? Why?" Deuce looked concerned, his face scrunched up with confusion. Lilia laughed, tilting his head to the side.
"It's alright, he won't be alone in there,right, Little Lantern?"
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anoutlandishfanfic · 4 years
Text
Metamorphosis Chapter 25: In the Womb of the Earth.
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*waves at all y’all collectively* I CAME BACK LIKE I SAID I WOULD!!!
So, I started this chapter way back in November/December (read: after the previous chapter posted) and then everything fell apart. My health took a nosedive (I’m having surgery day after tomorrow) and I was literally focused on getting thru the day and surviving work and my brain couldn’t function on the level I needed it to to write this chapter. Things have gotten a little better (soon to be a LOT better) and I managed to crank this one out!
Special thanks to @thefraserwitch for the constant stream of texts that inspired a whole heckuva lot and to @diversemediums for being the confirming POST IT voice that I seem to always need in my life. Y’all rock.
BUT ANYWAY HERES THE DEETS
The Premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night to Jamie?
You can find the previous chapter here (Part One / Part Two) if you need to catch up (I wouldn’t blame you). You can also find the master list of the whole fic here on Tumblr or its also current on AO3.
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February 20th, 1744; The Abbey, Scotland.
“I’m fine,” I glared at Jamie and pointed to our chamber’s door for good measure, insisting, “Go.”
He made no move to do so, his auburn brows bunched together in concern instead as he observed, “Ye’re lookin’ a bit green aboot the gills, Sassenach.”
“I’m just tired,” I hedged.
It certainly wasn’t a lie.
We’d sail with the next morning’s tide and the knowledge had everyone on edge. No one had slept well the night before, nor had anyone high hopes of the day passing quickly. Time seemed to stretch on forever now that the end was in sight and my husband’s nervous presence — though well intended — was becoming insufferable.
“Can I help ye back into bed, a’ least?” he offered. “Do ye think you could sleep a wee bit?”
I contemplated this, then turned my gaze to my usual chair by the fire. It was a worn out sort ��� overstuffed to the point that it made reclining bliss — with a low footstool to accommodate my swollen ankles.
Did I want to lay down completely… or just sit a while?
A wave of bone-aching fatigue washed over me, but my brain rattled off all the things that still needed to be done before we left.
How many more linens would Brother Erastus let me turn into nappies?
Brother Nathaniel said he’d see to the food stores for the journey, but I wanted to inspect them yet today… so I’d have time to repack should I need to.
Come to that, were our things packed?
I winced, knowing I’d think of a dozen more things my weary mind had forgotten once I got started.
Maybe I would just sit a bit.
A decidedly Scottish noise broke into my thoughts as a warm hand slipped around mine, gently leading me towards the edge of the bed.
I opened my mouth to protest but stopped as he eased me onto the soft mattress, swinging my feet up and helping me roll onto my left side. I grabbed for all the available pillows — gleefully seizing Jamie’s — and was soon completely ensconced.
Bloody hell, this feels amazing.
I heard a rumble of laughter from above me and lifted my face for a kiss, Jamie happily obliging.
“Sleep well, my hen,” he crooned, his thumb gently stroking my cheek as his lips hovered just above mine.
I realized that I really must look something like a mother hen tucked up in her nest and a slow smile spread across my face as I kissed him again.
“I willna be gone long,” he assured me a moment later when we came up for air. “Jus’ to see Murtagh about the carriage, aye?”
“Take your time… I’m not going anywhere.”
Jerking awake to the sound of the door bouncing off the wall, I caught a rather undignified squeal of alarm just before it left my lips as I was yanked from a deep, numbing sleep and thrust unceremoniously into the land of the living.
I lifted my head from the pillow and discovered I was no longer alone in the room, but now in the middle of a veritable bear pit. Loud, male declarations of Herself’s safe arrival and that there’d been nae trouble aboot the matter at all only muddied the waters as I blinked groggily, hastily looking for my husband amid the array of kilts and breeks.
“Aye, place it there,” came his voice, followed by a muffled thud as they did so, and I dropped my head back down onto the pillow.
He was here. He obviously had things — whatever the hell they may be — well in hand. If I were needed, he certainly knew where to find me.
My hand slid up between the sheets and I lifted it to my face, rubbing my heavy eyes as I tried to place what on earth they could be talking about. Why they couldn’t use proper nouns in this godforsaken country like any other civilized people was beyond me.
The movement accomplished nothing except to wake the rest of my body up, settling a dull, pulsating throb in the depths of my skull and my hip to aching with such a veracity that I could have sworn my fall in the Theive’s Hole had been yesterday, not four months ago.
“Jamie?” I called and the room fell instantly silent as they all quite suddenly remembered my presence.
My voice had sounded pitiful, even to my own ears, but I didn’t care. I needed him to explain what the hell was going on and get the rest of these men out of my room… and he’d better do it quick.
“Och, I’m sorry to be wakin’ ye, lass!” Willie’s voice was the first to profess from somewhere at the back of the crowd, “Tis only tha’ we thought ye’d be wantin’ to ken wha—“
But Jamie immediately pushed through the throng and succinctly cut him off, his face drawn with concern as he nearly threw himself onto the floor at the side of the bed. I reached for him and he bent over me, kissing my brow softly as he apologized profusely, “Christ, I’m sorry, lass!”
My abject confusion over the situation must have been evident, for he continued on without letting me speak.
“Lady Drummohr sends you her good wishes, mo nighean donn… She says she hopes she’ll see you at dinner but understands if you dinna feel up to it… Says she remembers bein’ this far wi’ her own bairns an’ wouldna blame ye if he didna leave yer chamber this evenin’... I’ll give her your thanks, aye?”
I shook my head, dismissing both the notion that I was so feeble that couldn't leave my room and the cancellation of the opportunity to see a real, bonafide mother in the flesh for the first time since arriving at the abbey ten weeks ago.
“What is that?” I scowled vaguely in Murtagh’s direction, where a good sized trunk lay at the man’s feet. He stood beside Jamie with the barest hint of a smile beneath his heavy beard and I knew something was up.
I may have a name to go with the who but I still hadn’t the foggiest idea of the what.
“Aye, tis from the Lady,” Jamie continued, his face brightening with excitement. “She said she didna ken how much you were able to take awa’ with you, so she brought some things you may be needin’ for yourself an’ the bairns.”
“Oh, Jamie…”
All of the air left my lungs in a mighty whoosh as everything came rushing back to me.
We would, indeed, be sailing to France, but first we would have to successfully make it aboard the ship.
There were at least half a dozen of His Majesty’s finest dragoons stationed in the village just outside the abbey and positioned at strategic points between here and the harbor. We would need to fool every single one of them… and Dougal had found a perfect cover for us in one Lady Margaret Grant of Drummohr. Hailing from Dalkeith, a good three days' ride away, she would not be recognized as anything other than a traveling woman of good repute.
I could then take her place with a nom de guerre of my choosing, with Jamie and Murtagh trading places with two of her footmen, and we’d safely ride to the harbor in our luxurious borrowed carriage. Should we be stopped leaving the abbey — and heaven forbid we would — I could explain in my blatantly British accent that I was sailing for Le Havre where I would be meeting my merchant marine husband.
But I hadn’t counted on Lady Margaret being generous above and beyond her arrangement with Dougal.
My free hand lifted to my lips, my fingers trembling as Jamie undid the latch and opened the trunk. He lifted out a small quilt and placed it on the coverlet before me, then froze as he spotted the fragile contents below.
“Oh God, Claire,” Jamie wheezed, immobile at the sight of four tiny baby gowns.
I reached out blindly through sudden tears, needing to touch the garments — to touch him — and was rewarded with both. His arms wrapped around me again, his head dipping into the curve of my neck as the tips of my fingers reverently traced the swirls of thistles and leaves around the neck of one gown.
“I don’t... I didn’t have any clothes for them,” I swallowed hard, trying to tramp down the feeling of complete and utter inadequacy, “Jamie, I barely have nappies for them to shit it, how the hell am I supposed to be a mother to them?!”
His head lifted and his blue eyes — so completely calm, damn him — focused on mine, one corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smile as he assured, “We’ll manage it, mo nighean donn… There’s the both of us, aye? I’ll no’ be lettin’ ye fall.”
I kissed him then, pulling him closer in desperate urgency. His lips met mine and anchored me to him, holding me fast as I tried to make sense of the storm building around me.
“I’ve got you,” he crooned, pressing my head against his chest when we came up for air.
I concentrated on the sound of his pulse, the rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek, and slowly felt clarity return to me.
“What else is in there?” I sniffed.
His arms loosened around me and he peered over the edge of the trunk a moment.
“More wee things for the bairns… but I think this one’s for you, Sassenach.”
With this he let go, retrieving a bodice and woolen skirt dyed a deep navy blue from the depths of the wooden chest.
“Well, it certainly wouldn’t fit you,” I grinned and took it from him.
He grunted good naturedly at my jest and obediently bent his head for a closer look when I shoved the bodice back into his lap, cheering with delight.
“Oh, aye,” he nodded appreciatively, yet his voice held that hollow tone of disproportionate earnest. “Tha’ll do verra nicely for you, Sassenach.”
I rose one brow at him, “You have no idea why I’m excited about it, do you?”
“Aye, well… tis a new frock, isn’t it? An’ a bonnie one a’ that,” his grin turned sheepish as he confessed.
I lunged for him, meaning to poke him between the ribs, but he caught my hands well in time and I laughed.
“The boning, the lacing of it,” I nodded towards the bodice, “It’s made for mothers!”
“Oh, aye?” his brows shot up at this and he dropped my hands in order to take a second, proper look.
I began to examine the waistband of the matching skirt as he did so and very much liked what I found.
“So’s this,” I continued. “I can wear it now and continue to after they’re here.”
He handed it back with a greater appreciation, his gaze growing wistful, “Did Jenny’s gowns have such things?”
I nodded, fighting back my gut-wrenching yearning for Jamie’s elder sister. It was always there, brooding under the surface as I contemplated our life to come. I didn’t have much of anything in the way of worldly goods, but what I did have, I’d gladly give to have her with us.
“We may be leaving Scotland at dawn,” I whispered hoarsely, then swallowed hard in order to continue, “but I know we’ll be back… I just know it. You children will see their birthright. I promise you.”
He leaned forward and kissed me softly, the promise of his body, of his protection and undying love echoing my own.
Leaning back after a moment with a sigh, his gaze fell on the tiny baby gowns and his eyes took on a light of complete wonder.
“I havena held a bairn in a verra long time,” his voice was deeper than usual, husky with longing to take his own children into his arms. “I ken they’ll be wee… but, a dhia, Sorcha, I forgot just how much so.”
I draped the gowns over the swell of our children and brought his hand to the place where one insisted on causing a disturbance within me.
Nodding, I pressed hard against them, urging them to respond to us, “But they’re strong.”
“Aye,” he brought his lips to mine as his children proved my point emphatically, “Just like their mother.”
Later That Evening
Dinner had been delightful, though we’d still excused ourselves as soon as was appropriate, citing our early departure.
But in truth, I had only one destination in mind.
The hot spring.
I shut the door of our chamber behind us with a grin and leaned against it, insisting abruptly, “Take off your clothes.”
Jamie started visibly then burst out laughing as he sat down hard upon the bed.
“Oh, aye?” He rose a brow when he could finally speak, his shoulders still shaking, “Is tha’ how it’s goin’ to be?”
Heat rose to my cheeks as I shook my head in mock derision, reaching over to the nearly empty chest of drawers and withdrawing two homespun robes of a deep chestnut hue. I tossed one to him and his amusement turned to curiosity.
“I want to show you something,” I blurted, not wanting to give away the surprise and yet needing to get him out of the room somehow.
Both brows rose nearly to his hairline as he looked at me skeptically.
“An’ I must wear this?”
I undid the lacing of my new bodice, commenting, “We both are.”
“Ye’re delirious, Sassenach,” Jamie shook his head. “Ye canna be tellin’ me ye mean to wander about in nothin’ but that?”
“Well,” my blush rose considerably and I wished he’d just put on the damn thing and be done with it already, “it covers more than you’d think… and I stick to the shadows.”
“Ye’ve done this before?!”
The incredulity of the idea had him back on his feet in an instant, a fire burning bright in his eyes.
“I have,” my chin rose defiantly, “and I plan on doing it one last time before we go.”
A slow grin spread across his face, the indignation in his eyes melting into unfettered requirement.
“With me?”
“Of course with you,” I snorted, shoving his robe against his chest. “Just put the bloody thing on, will you?”
He did so immediately, then helped me in turn, all the while his grin permanently splitting his face in two.
“Good,” I appraised him, adjusting the belt around my waist more securely.
“Shall we go, then?”
Jamie rose a brow at this and opened the door, bowing low over his hand as he gestured into the deep shadows of the hall.
Slipping my hand into the crook of his arm, we made our way wordlessly along the dark passageways. We turned this way and that, the slope of the floor slowly dipping as we got closer. Finally reaching the door to the passageway, I opened it and sighed with relief as I found the sconces already lit.
We continued on for some time and eventually had to walk single file as the tunnel narrowed.
“Are ye sure ye ken where we’re goin’?” Jamie asked skeptically from behind me, his frown evident in the darkness.
I suppressed a laugh and brushed the tips of my fingers along the solid rock wall, “Well, there’s no chance of us taking a wrong turn, now is there?”
The tunnel was dimly lit and full of twists and turns, but held no offshoots or forks of any sort. It simply led to our destination, which was the only reason the brothers let me travel to and fro unattended. There was absolutely no chance of me getting lost underground as I traversed completely naked beneath my borrowed robe.
Brother Jeremiah had introduced me to the abbey’s restorative hot springs during the long weeks of Jamie’s recovery. I could slip away and find relief for a few hours as Murtagh watched over our beloved charge. The warm buoyancy of the water relieved the pressure of the lives within me, rewinding time to give my body back to me. The quiet solitude soothed my frazzled nerves and slowly healed the mental and emotional wounds inflicted by the horrible ordeal we had all just gone through.
The heat of the spring wafted towards us quite suddenly and a shiver of excitement ran up my spine, raising gooseflesh in its wake.
“We’re almost there,” I assured him unnecessarily.
The light of the cavern was discernible before us — bless the brothers for preparing it for us — and Jamie now could see it for himself. We continued on a few paces more and then we stood in the midst of the gaping cavern. Sconces were positioned here and there between us and the shore, attempting to illuminate the void, but great gaps of darkness stood beyond and it was clear that the space was a good deal larger than either of us could imagine.
I let out a sigh of absolute delight, so relieved to finally be here, and asked, “Do you like it?”
Jamie didn’t answer but looked around with his mouth agape. I knew the feeling fell, but my eagerness to be within the pool had me disrobing before my poor husband knew what was happening. I had one foot in when his voice stopped me.
“Christ, Sassenach,” he burst in delight, “‘tis a hot spring!”
I laughed and continued my descent down the carved stone steps.
“Oh, you do. Good,” I grinned and reached the bottom. “Do come in, then.”
Jamie shed his robe, but kept a firm hold of his skepticism, asking from the top of the stairs, “How hot is it? Should ye be bathin’ in it in yer condition, Sassenach?”
I shook my head, my curls splaying this way and that on the surface of the water, and I rolled my eyes.
If he only knew how bloody amazing it feels in here.
The muscles of my lower back had immediately relaxed upon contact with the water, my hips loosened and my breathing eased. They seemed to like it too, for they tumbled with delight at the first and then settled into a blissful slumber. I could walk slowly about, stretching my long limbs without the strain of gravity. Or I sometimes lay my arms on the stone ledge of the shore, resting my head atop them as I let my legs float out from beneath me… levitating weightless in the water.
“It gets hotter the further out you go,” I assured him, gesturing vaguely into the darkness. “I stay over here in the shallows and I’m just fine… it's like a splendid bath that never grows cold.”
He continued in, the water slowly swallowing him up as he joined me. The awe was back in his eyes, now seeing and feeling for himself what a splendid thing this was. He wiggled his toes in the clean, black sand at the bottom of the pool, sending pulsating currents over my own. The surface looked deceptively still, but there were small currents here and there if you knew where to find them… the pulse of the living, breathing spring.
Jamie turned to grin at me in the darkness, his teeth flashing white in the sconces’ flickering light.
“Christ, Sassenach,” he repeated and shook his head, completely at a loss.
I laughed, “You approve, then?”
“Oh, aye,” he insisted, looking ‘round excitedly. “I do, indeed.”
Jamie bounced on his toes slightly as he squinted out into the darkness.
“How far does it go?”
“I’m not sure,” I shrugged. “It got too hot for me.”
He nodded with an adorable sense of determination and I knew he was out to explore this oasis I had just introduced him to. He started to move away but I touched his arm, stopping him for a moment.
“Be careful, alright?”
His face melted and he leaned back in for a kiss, nudging my nose with his, “Aye, I’ll keep an eye for any wee beasties.”
“Any big ones too.”
“Mmm,” he kissed me again, “I think we’re quite safe, m ’ionmhas. Though, tis a shame we left our pet selkie behind, hmm?”
I laughed and shoved him away, letting him explore to his heart’s content. I could hear him splash this way and that, muttering to himself, but was surprised when he returned shortly after he left.
“Nothing out there?”
He snorted, “Entirely too much that I canna see… and you’re right, tis a good deal hotter out there.”
His skin was delightfully warm as I slipped my arms around his neck with a sigh. Resting my cheek against his chest, I let my feet float out beneath me. He towed me slowly around the edge of the pool, the water rippling over my legs and abdomen feeling remarkably like his caressing hands. I became warmer and more aroused by the moment, the tips of my sensitive breasts brushed against his chest and set off fireworks deep within me.
He found the man-made niche cut into the wall that I liked to frequent and sat on the wooden bench, pulling me to sit sideways on his lap. I knew there was plenty of room for both of us on it and pushed him backwards as I moved to straddle him. The eager glow in his eyes set me afire as I settled myself more comfortably, treasuring him for a moment before guiding him home. The accompanying inrush of hot water surprised me for a brief moment, but I soon found it incredibly exhilarating and settled myself with a sigh of pleasure.
“Oh, I like that one,” he purred.
I blinked at him stupidly and asked, “Like what?”
“That sound you made,” he explained, the delight evident in his eyes, “the wee squeak.”
I didn’t think it was possible to blush — I knew my skin was already flushed to the point of beet red — and I found myself dropping my gaze, hoping my hair would fall in my face and hide my embarrassment.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be noisy.”
Jamie tipped my chin up, brushing the curls from my brow as he insisted gently, “I said I like it.”
I nodded, not entirely sure what to say to that and found I didn’t have to, for he continued.
“And I do… ‘tis one of the things I like best about bedding you, Sassenach,” he grinned, “the small noises that you make.”
He cradled my head in his hands, kissing me with an urgency that made me forget myself once more, and shifted his hips just so beneath me. I half stifled a gasp and he commented softly, “Aye, like that.”
“That's what I thought most about,” Jamie murmured, his hands slowly caressing my back, curving around to cup my breasts, to frame the swell of our children.
“In prison, at night… chained in a room with dozens of other men, listening to the snoring and farting and groaning. I thought of those small, tender sounds that you make when I love you… and I could feel you there next to me in the dark, breathing soft and then faster, and the little grunt that you give when I first take you, as though you were settling yourself to your job.”
My breathing was certainly coming faster now, my head light. Had it not been for my rather firm hold of him down below the surface, I was sure I would have floated far away into oblivion.
“Even better,” his lips brushed against my neck, sending a shiver of delight up and down my spine, “when I come to you fierce and wanting... and ye wimper under me and struggle as though you’re struggling to get away, and I know ‘tis only that you’re struggling to come closer... and I’m fighting the same fight.”
His hands sank to my hips, slipping between us to caress the stretched and yearning point of our joining. I quivered and my breath went from me in an unwilled gasp.
“Or when I come to you needing… and you take me into you with a sigh and that quiet hum like a hive of bees in the sun,” a sweet smile played at his lips, “and ye carry me into peace with a little moaning sound.”
“Jamie,” I hoarsely whispered, my need nearly strangling me. “Jamie, please.”
He kissed me soundly as his hands settled around my waist, slowing me until I groaned around his lips.
“Not yet. We’ve time, mo chridhe,” he calmly answered. “I mean to hear ye groan like that again… to moan and sob, though ye dinna wish to, for ye canna help it… I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break and scream with the wanting...  and at last to cry out in my arms… and I shall know I’ve served you well.”
With that, my release overtook me, shooting like a dart into the depths of my belly. It loosened my joints so that my arms slipped limp off his shoulders, Jamie’s steadying hands all that kept me from drowning.
Resting my head against his chest, I felt boneless as a jellyfish. I didn’t know — or care — what sort of noises I’d been making, but felt incapable of coherent speech.
That is, until he began to move again... strong as a shark under the water.
“Oh God, no,” I protested. “Jamie, no. I can’t bear it like that again.”
The blood was still pounding in my fingertips and his movement inside me was an exquisite torture.
“You can… for I love you,” his lips brushed against my neck. “And you will, for I want you… but, dinna fash, for this time I go with you.”
Bloody hell, you’re coming with me, I vowed.
I lifted my hands to his chest and splayed my fingers wide, still trembling as I pressed my palms against his slippery skin. Sliding my hands up, I took hold of his shoulders and shoved him the couple inches backwards into the stone wall of the niche with all the strength I could muster.
Jamie’s eyes flew open in surprise and the arousal I found there was the second wind I needed.
His brows rose suggestively and I sat back — settling myself to my business, as he had so eloquently stated before. His hands settled at my waist, curving round to clenching my buttocks tightly as I rode him towards oblivion.
A low groan rumbled within him and I cupped one hand beneath his head, pulling back up to me by the scruff of his neck. I was rewarded with a Christ, Claire and kissed him hard as I sank even deeper. It wouldn’t — couldn’t — be long now for either of us and with that knowledge, I tossed restraint to the wind.
“You are mine,” I repeated, the final vowel twisting into a cry of pure ecstacy.
I heard his own cry and I knew I had served him well.
121 notes · View notes
ineffable-writer · 4 years
Text
1500 words of Ineffable Husbands on a train together
All my sketches of locations/situations/whatever turn into drabbles about these two eventually so I’ve started posting ‘em. 
The title is the summary. Literally just a description of my trip out to a weekend writing retreat, but with the husbands added in. I have no idea why I can read 8,000,000,000,000 drabbles of the two of them being domestic but I figure I can’t be the only one so?
Read it here. Or below the break.
Sketch written on a train from Edinburgh to Inverness
Crowley was bent into a checkmark, legs up on the carriage table and his back contorted to fit into the plastic, scrappy seat. His phone was out of battery. It had been for like half an hour, but he wasn’t going to forfeit his new high score in Flappy Bird, so he was having none of it.
“You are missing the scenery,” said Aziraphale, sitting beside him, beside the window. Back straight. Eyes as bright and blue as ever. Ridiculously charmed with the countryside. Which was just sheep, Crowley thought. Sheep and farms and a bit more vertical in places. They’d spent centuries pinging across this country like the ball in an ineffable game of table tennis, constantly moving by foot and by car and—his buttocks still ached in empathy for the past—horseback.
“I’m familiar with the look of sheep.” Crowley did not see the appeal.
“You’re familiar with- with that silly telephone,” said Aziraphale, with enough vehemence to imply that silly was understatement, but enough familiarity that Crowley knew he’d already been forgiven. Crowley leaned into Aziraphale’s shoulder a little, a reminder: I’m here, remember, I came on this trip for you. The angel smiled, did that little shifting wiggle of his shoulders that showed he was pleased. “I’ll never understand your fascination with that… thing.”
“You’d love it if you gave it a try. I’d lose you forever to Candy Crush.”
“No. You wouldn’t.”
Right. Ever since the end-of-the-world-that-wasn’t, Aziraphale had been going rather hard on the whole our side thing. They were still getting used to that. Six thousand years assuming that eventually, the angel would fuck back off to Heaven, and now he couldn’t make jokes even tangential to the topic. It wasn’t a bad thing. Just took some getting used to.
It didn’t require an answer. Just a smile.
The train to Inverness filled quickly. When they’d left Edinburgh, the cheap seats had been nearly empty; each stop let on a character or two, or three, or four. The tables filled first, then the row seats, as the overhead shelving cluttered up with bags and backpacks and market bags full of wrapped presents. ‘Twas the season.
Somehow no one joined their table, no matter how enthusiastically Aziraphale beamed at them, and eventually two new row seats appeared behind them to make up for the ones Crowley was so selfishly hogging. Instead the humans milled around them and talked and gossiped and—
Oh, I think he fancies it, honestly, he just pretends he hates the attention—
—you walk right up to the top and it’s the most beautiful view—
—hi how are you hi how are you hi how are you hi— Relax, darling, just relax, enjoy your trip—
Aziraphale glanced over his shoulder at the last, a poor overstimulated young man and his father, who was doing his best to help but still had to battle against the jostle and hubbub of the carriage. The angel brushed a bit of lint off his jacket. Suddenly father and son found their table to be less chaotic, less alarming.
“Oy. You can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Now I’ve got to go and inconvenience someone, even you out.”
“We don’t have to, you know.”
Crowley raised an eyebrow.
“That woman in the… hat is thinking infuriatingly eugenic thoughts, if you’re looking for someone to inconvenience. Have at it.”
“Now you’re just using me,” Crowley complained, but suddenly her cell phone battery was dead, and his was full again. The angel was right, of course. It wouldn’t be any fun ruining someone’s day if they didn’t deserve it just a little bit.
They passed through the country, the low and rolling hills, with the angled sunlight of late December casting golden shadows over the Highlands. Distant pines contrasted against the midday sunset—obsidian arrows against pink and blue and grey. They dipped in and out of tunnels like pens into an inkwell, brief forays into the black. They passed villages—Perth and Pilochry—made of houses from a dozen bygone days, Georgian and Victorian and modern and suburbian and sometimes a dozen at once. Mountains with snowcaps rose on the horizon and fell behind the nearer hills. The grass was yellow with winter, the trees marbled with green and brown.
Crowley had died in Flappy Bird and put aside his phone eventually. Aziraphale had not moved from his admiration of the windows. Crowley sighed and relaxed a little further and his head leaned against Aziraphale’s shoulder, now, rather than a simple lean.
“Why did you insist on the train, Angel?”
“Other than wanting to ensure we arrived in one piece?”
“Other than that.”
“It’s still here.” No one would overhear them, but Aziraphale’s voice was quiet anyway. “It nearly wasn’t.”
Again, no response required: Aziraphale knew Crowley understood he was only partially talking about the landscape. In the Bentley they’d have been alone together—which was beautiful, perfect, something they would never get tired of. But they would have been alone. Here, they were not alone.
The father and son had been joined by a woman and her small child, and the son was bonding with them over an ipad. A person of indiscriminate gender was tucked against a window, scribbling in a journal and wearing a sweatervest that would make Aziraphale proud. People all around them were drinking coffee and trading holiday plans and moving bags so the trolley could get through and existing. Wholeheartedly and completely here.
The sun had set, but the light lingered, and they hit the snow line—first in the distant hills, then in patches in the dark grass, then a blossoming white spotted with trees. The Highlands rose around them, true mountains now, great slabs of snow and rock with clouds that sank, low and foggy, into the valleys between them. Even Crowley was a little impressed. He relinquished his phone to Aziraphale for the price of exactly one terrible picture that got more of the seats in it than the mountains. When they got home, they’d frame it.
It hadn’t been Crowley’s idea to spend the holidays here. He’d have been happy to stay in Sussex with their usual tradition—cocoa, books, a general disbelief that no one was going to dump holy water all over him—but the angel had been struck with a particular sort of wanderlust lately. So here they were.
Kingussie. Aviemore. Please mind the gap when alighting from this train. The night was spilling like ink into the sky. Stonework gave way to lights nestled in the darkness, villages transformed into scattered diamonds. A man in a red tracksuit got on the train and sat across the corridor, his infant granddaughter in tow. She wore neon pink and curls to rival the angel’s. He held his hands around her, infinitely careful as she tried to learn to walk on a table on the train. She fell—often—but her grandfather caught her, and she had a downright beatific smile. Crowley’s heart warmed and softened at the edges. He took Aziraphale’s hand under the table.
Stars outside, now, a trip down memory lane that came in the form of icicle lights and streetlamps. The universe hadn’t been lit with the neon of a gas station or inflatable Santa Clauses, but somehow the train seemed to be gliding through creation, lost at the beginning of the world.
This is Aviemore. This train is for Inverness. Next stop is Inverness.
Crowley closed his eyes to nap, well aware that Aziraphale would be keenly aware of the evenness of Crowley’s unconscious breath and the closeness of their bodies. He didn’t sleep. Aziraphale was right. There was too much humanity around them not to bask in it a little.
The person in the sweatervest closed their book and they both felt a little pang of heartbreak echo through the car: heartbreak, loss, an echo of a grey day and a bandstand at the end of the world. Some healing loss, some missing piece. It vanished when they smiled at the baby—a smile that rosy could solve any problem in the world, surely—and angel and demon both felt a human identity swell in their chests. Someone squeezed the other’s hand, and then a man in a crew cut started in on a loud phone call in French and the angel’s face furrowed in concentration and Crowley chuckled, because of course Aziraphale was trying to remember enough to listen in.
It earned him a nudge with a rather-entangled-by-now elbow. “Now I thought you were sleeping.”
“We’re nearly there. Don’t have the time.”
“So you’re just watching me, then.”
“You’re entertainment.” In a moment he would get his legs off the table, even, and stretch, and crack his back loudly enough to make everyone around them wince. They’d pull into the station and Aziraphale would insist on enduring a taxi to their cottage, and Crowley would break the pay machines at the barrier to the bathrooms just to get his angel’s stupid enthusiasm out of the air a little, and then they’d both unpack their bags at different times—secretive—since they were currently pretending they hadn’t bought each other gifts.
But not yet.
He could pretend to sleep on Aziraphale’s shoulder for a little bit longer.
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isuzukuretsuki · 5 years
Text
Ikemen Revolution - Edgar’s Route
Sirius | Lancelot | Fenrir
aka the sexiest man in the entire red army the entire cast. the hottest stud in the military. the most gorgeous boy in Alice’s harem. the man who will satisfy your wishes and desires, the man who will make your hopes and dreams come true.
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THE SMOOTHEST TALKER EVER
it’s been over a month since I finished Edgar’s route but here is his long awaited and very delayed scream fest. I wrote this up bit by bit over the course of two months but I never had the time to sit down and proof read it until now because of school and I didn’t want to post something half assed because it’s Edgar! Also this is uhh... really freaking long LOOL. As usual, if you you want my actual serious final thoughts on the route, just skip to the final blurb. 
Now with literally every red army route so far (except Jonah), OF COURSE the Black Army mofos send Alice off with more NAMELESS, FACELESS soldiers who can’t do shit in the face of kidnappers, and end up getting their ass kicked, leaving poor Alice completely defenseless. This time around, the kidnappers make off with Alice’s belongings into the sunset so Alice can’t return home.
That is until our dashing gentleman aka Edgar comes in going like hey baby I’ll help you find your stuff so won’t you please come home to bed with me and of course Alice accepts because he’s a damn hot stud.
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Aw Kyle don’t say that ;;;;;.
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SO PRECIOUS.............
I’m going to say it right now but Edgar is ADORABLE. Literally the first half of his route is just him and Alice bonding over their love of candy and playing with animals. Edgar even takes Alice out to see a family of ducks he takes care of and he refers to them as his own family and fucking named them “The Creeks” JUST HOW PRECIOUS CAN HE GET???? Considering how Edgar is portrayed as that “evil scheming asshole here to ruin everyone’s day” in everyone else’s route, I didn’t expect him to be so sweet BUT HE IS SUCH A GOD DAMN SWEETIE as you can see I’m infinitely biased towards LIs who like animals.
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What... a .... fucking... dork
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lmao @ Lancelot trying to act like a do-s when he’s the complete opposite of that. This man doesn’t have a single sadistic bone in his body... he’s just a big mushy teddy bear.
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WHAT A FUCKING BIG MUSHY TEDDY BEAR, BOTH OF YOU.
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The red army boys are a bunch nerds you just can’t help but fall in love with after going through their routes... especially Edgar’s! I love them all so much.
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OH NO MY BABY DON’T SAY THAT PLEASE.
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lmao I love the blatant acknowledgement. But also mood.
Anyway after Zero zeros in on Edgar being a sketchy prick, Edgar mopes around some more because “shit Zero is exactly right” and he has a realization that he has Feelings In His Chest. Of course Alice catches on so she bakes him some super unhealthy cookies to make him feel better (ღ˘⌣˘ღ).
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I MEAN... I DON’T BLAME HIM, BECAUSE SAME.
Edgar starts disappearing into the night to do “”family business”” for his totally-not-evil-uncle and I SWEAR to god at the time I was like “this mofo’s deadass going around murdering people” and now I’m just like .... ha ha.
One day Alice stumbles across Edgar coming home from “”family business”” and rushes out to greet him, only for him to freak the fuck out and hide his hands behind his back. SERIOUSLY I THOUGHT HIS HANDS WERE BLOOD SOAKED. Alice’s like wtf you doing and yanks his hands out only to find them freezing cold BECAUSE HE WAS BUSY WASHING THE BLOOD OFF OF THEM.
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This is one of my favourite scenes JUST.... WARMTH... THE TENDERNESS.... THE FONDNESS.... THE SHEER AFFECTION SHE HAS FOR HIM IS SO MAGNETIZING. The god damn romantic connotations is overflowing it’s practically on the same level as a damn love confession without the actual confession of love.
I love that sort of duality between their relationship being built on fake premises, but is actually very genuine at its core. Edgar may have saved Alice with ulterior motives, but his kindness towards her both when they first met and their interactions after that was very real. It’s through little things in the writing like Alice commenting on how Edgar’ hands were warm that makes it all the more endearing and heart wrenching.
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AGAIN--OH NO MY BABY DON’T SAY THAT PLEASE.
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lmao never change, Jonah. Never change.
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narrator: she was not fine.
look everything in this game may be a rip off but those LI-perspective side stories are just..............IT’S OKAY MY HEART IS ALREADY MADE OF DIAMOND.
Anyhoo the war between the two armies are starting to get Heated Up™ and Edgar requests Lancelot to go scouting in enemy territory alone, but Lancelot refuses bc it’s dangerous. Honestly idk what’s so dangerous about it considering how Sirius’s route was pretty much Edgar vs Black Army and the Black Army still had trouble but ANYWAY. Alice finds out and gets pissed and they end up arguing, to which everyone starts celebrating and clinking wine glasses in toasts because “holy shit Edgar actually has emotions?!” 😂😂
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MY GUY LOL WHAT IS THIS.
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In Edgar’s route, you don’t say “I love you”, you say THIS. SERIOUSLY MY HEART HURTS SO BAD ESPECIALLY WITH THE CONTEXT OF EDGAR’S CHARACTER AND THE STORY OF THIS ROUTE.
After Edgar’s leaves on his scouting trip Claudius decides it’s a good time to come out into the limelight and ruin some people’s lives for fun so he sends Alice a letter going like “yo here’s a plot convenient key to Edgar’s safe where he keeps his weed stash so you can see the truth that your boyfriend is a PIECE OF SHIT”. And Alice is all like “ay Edgar isn’t a piece of shit, I’m sure this is just a prank!”
too bad it isn’t.
Zero takes Alice to Edgar’s safe and seriously I was on the edge of my seat wondering wtf was in his safe. I suspected it was gonna be her belongings but with the suspense they kept building in this part I wouldn’t have been surprised if there were fucking dead bodies in that locker.
So on the bright side, there were no dead bodies in the safe. On the not so bright side, Alice finds all the letters she wrote to the Black Army, as well as warning letters from them she never received so it turned out Edgar was fabricating the letters she was exchanging with the Black Army all this time. OH GOODIE.
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GAHHHH NO EDGAR. 
SERIOUSLY can we talk about how good the writing in this route is?!?  All the dialogue and monologues are just structured in a way that gets to my emotions. I fucking cried during this scene because Alice’s emotions and despair was so raw and powerful and the way Edgar just silently took all her verbal abuse because he couldn’t defend himself but he was breaking with every word she said ...... ABLHEAJTARTHEATHJAEKHT.
Anyway Alice miraculously somehow escapes the Red Army Headquarters and races back to the Black Army in one piece seriously girl did you run an entire evening without stopping to black territory??? Adrenaline mixed with terror is something only for the surprise plot convenience robbers to make a reappearance. Fortunately, our MVP Luka dashingly swoops in and saves her. He brings her back to Black Territory and cooks her dinner and is there to comfort her MPH...BABY BOY IS SO SOFT AND SWEET...................
Alice completely breaks down and ME FUCKING TOO. She can’t really say much other than a strangled sob of “You know Luka, I had a lot of fun at the Red Army. Edgar treated me really, really well” or something like that and honestly that’s also she really needed to say to convey her heartbreak and betrayal. 
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lol I can imagine Edgar doing that.
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THANKS I’M FUCKING DEPRESSED NOW.
Luka reveals that he and Edgar were long time friends and muses to Alice on what he’s known about Edgar throughout the years. He drops this information on Alice not to necessarily tell her how to feel, but just as food for thought for Alice as she sorts out her feelings.
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THANKS I’M EVEN MORE FUCKING DEPRESSED NOW. Also this is hands down the most powerful admittance of love this game has given me.
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lmao never change Seth, never change.
Anyhoo Claudius McDoucheMuffin gets into contact with Alice and is all like “hey girl I got your purse.” And for some reason, Alice thinks he’s perfectly trustworthy ¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯.
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ALICE....ABOUT THAT....
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OH NO.
Well yeah what do you know ha ha, Claudius kidnaps Alice because THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS EVERY FUCKING TIME THE BLACK ARMY SENDS A NAMELESS BODYGUARD OUT TO PROTECT HER.
Claudius takes Alice to outside Amon’s sex dungeon where Edgar is there lovingly waiting for her. Edgar is slightly surprised to see Alice and is rurl pissed over his daddy uncle manhandling her so he makes Claudius give them some alone time in the carriage while he removes Alice’s ropes and dresses her wounds. Alice isn’t keen on it but she realizes that “holy shit Claudius may be a bigger piece of shit than Edgar” so she lets him spill his token tragic backstory to her.
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This is so god damned painful.......
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jesus christ this puts the whole “In the Bright family, loving people is practically forbidden” into context. 
This makes me wonder what would become of Edgar in the other routes where his pact isn’t abolished-- would he really marry if this was the fate he knew his wife and children would go through, or would he just stay single and let his lineage die with him?
Unfortunately, their touching reunion doesn’t last long because Claudius is pretty much banging on their carriage door going like 
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“time’s up bitches we got work to do” and pretty much barges in and yanks Alice away from Edgar.
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Bring it, asshat.
Claudius unceremoniously marches Alice straight into the thick of Amon’s sex dungeon while Edgar reluctantly dallys along with the Concerned Kermit Face the entire time. Amon pretty much ditches Lance for his new buddy Claudius so they can TAKE OVER THE WORLD HUR DUR. Him and Claudius cackle about their evil plans and Alice realizes that Edgar was more or less being manipulated by them and he’s not the Actual Worst. Amon then orders Alice to be thrown into his Personal Chambers™.
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Jesus christ, YOU ARE SUCH AN ASS, CLAUDIUS.
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DON’T MIND ME I’M JUST BEING EMO.
We cut back to Amon and Alice and Amon does his typical evil villain monologue, takes off his hood and....
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(屮゜Д゜)屮(屮゜Д゜)屮(屮゜Д゜)屮 HE HAS A CHARACTER DESIGN?!?!?!?!
I KID YOU NOT THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME I SAW AMON WITHOUT HIS HOOD AND I WAS SHOOKED TO MY FUCKING BONES. I DIDN’T THINK HE’D ACTUALLY HAVE A PROPER CHARACTER DESIGN. It was three in the morning when I played this and I literally just put my phone down and laid in my bed staring at the ceiling as I contemplated my life choices after that.
After that shocking revelation, Amon throws Alice into the dungeons for Edgar to dashingly swoop in and save. It’s the full moon so he takes her to the gates of hell Hole That No Player Ever Wants To See. Now if this was a black army route, the suitor would have thrown Alice’s sad ass straight down that hole but this isn’t a black army route so we’re spared from that. Instead we have Alice CHUCKING ALL OF HER POSSESSIONS INTO THE HOLE ((((;゜Д゜))), effectively sealing her fate of ever going back. I get it’s supposed to be a power move but my only thoughts were “WHAT IF EDGAR DIDN’T ACTUALLY RETURN YOUR FEELINGS LMAO?!” I mean it’s an otome game so of course Edgar loves her back but can you imagine how awkward it’d be if Alice was like “I’m not going back because I love you!” and Edgar’s just like “...but I don't  feel the same”. YEESH.
On a less superficial level, I was still really sad because didn’t they make a promise to go to London together one day? ໒( •́ ∧ •̀ )७ I know it wasn’t really a promise but still! Chances are all gone now.
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Edgar: Alice, I’m an actual murderer. Alice: NAH, YOU’RE JUST A WEIRDO, EDGAR! (´∩。• ᵕ •。∩`) ♡
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I AM SO FUCKING EMO.
Also!!! HE’S THE ONLY BOY SO FAR WHO HAS A KISS CG IN HIS ROUTE. (haven’t played Ray’s route yet so idk about him). You have all these Spicy CGs of the boys and Alice in sexually compromising positions and you have Actual Sex Scenes and yet this game barely has any kiss cgs LOL?! What gives?! 
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He’s so romantic (ఠ్ఠ ˓̭ ఠ్ఠ).
Since Edgar’s officially betrayed Claudius, he pretty much duels him and kicks his ass and arrests him. Unfortunately, arresting Claudius doesn’t absolve Edgar of his crimes and he’s still put on trial with Lancelot and Ray as the judges. This scene kind of weirded me out because Edgar says some mumbo jumbo about how he’s going on trial so he can “become a man worthy of Alice’s love” like uHHH boy you being worthy of her love ain’t gonna mean jack shit if you’re in jail. Unless you want a nice steamy serving of this ending.
Okay I’m not trying to sound like I’m justifying murder but akjheakthake just FLEETING THOUGHTS YA KNOW. This scene was hella predictable and played out exactly like we’d all know (Edgar doesn’t go to jail hurray!) but even still the trial made me SO EMOTIONAL I STARTED CRYING LMAOO.
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Oh Jonah, I know a game you’d love.
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Romantic Ending:
Now that things finally calmed down, Alice and Edgar go on a date with Luka tagging along and  Jonah acting as the fourth wheel, much to Luka’s chagrin. (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) ♫・*:.。. .。.:*・
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NEVER CHANGE JONAH, NEVER CHANGE.
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Out of all the pet names my fictional boyfriend could give me, being called an angel is my number one favourite IT’S JUST SO SOFT AND MAKES MY HEART GO DOKI FUCKING DOKI YA FEEL.
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is it a sin that I imagined Edgar going full blown chokemedaddy yandere jealous.... not exactly a romantic thought in the romantic ending, bUT FLEETING THOUGHTS, FLEETING THOUGHTS.
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LUKA IS SO GOD DAMN PRECIOUS KILL ME NOW.
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AHHH WHY ARE YOU SO CUTE.....
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-------
Honestly I’m not even gonna mince words-- I loved this route and everything that came with it.
Before I go on my rampage, shout out to Luka for being the MVP supporting character in Edgar’s route. It’s hard to imagine them being friends considering how clashing their personalities are but their friendship was surprisingly heartwarming and endearing. 
I don’t even know how to articulate my thoughts on what made this route so perfect. For starters, Edgar and Alice have amazing chemistry and their personalities compliment each other well. Their bonding and budding friendship was really endearing and felt very believable. From little superficial antics like sharing candy and taking care of animals and going on silly dates, to more blatant portrayals of the depth of their love like Alice cupping Edgar’s hand to her cheek when he was vulnerable, or Edgar straight up betraying his only family to save her. 
Alice’s circumstances of being someone from another world really complimented Edgar’s character. Edgar is a character who lived in a gilded cage his entire life--trapped by his occupation and bound by dirty blood. He’s never once known freedom or has ever had any agency over his life, but Alice shatters that equation. Alice is completely unrelated to the Red Army, or Cradle entirely. She knows nothing about his occupation or his history, and so Edgar is drawn to her because there are no division of titles between them. To her, him being the Jack of Hearts is irrelevant.
He says that without her, he gets “bored”. In the game, he complains that he’s “always bored”. Using “bored” to describe a character usually makes that character seem fickle and that they can’t be serious about anything because everything is just a means to kill time. But in the context of Edgar’s character, “bored” really means “dull”, “lifeless”, or “forced to find happiness through short lived and temporary means”. He copes with his oppression and lack of freedom by chalking up all of his feelings as just boredom. And he’s not wrong-- a life where you can’t make any of your own choices or choose your own path is indeed, very boring.
He constantly calls Alice his “special guest” which on top of being an adorable nickname, carries really heavy connotations. She’s an ethereal guest from another world, from outside of Edgar’s tiny world which he always wanted to expand. I LOVED the scene where Alice says she would like to take Edgar to London with her one day, because it’s the first time you see Edgar start to doubt his world. He’s accepted that his world is small and oppressive, but the first time, it’s almost like Edgar entertains the idea of breaking free from his bird cage.
I want to compliment the relationship development between the two, which was WONDERFULLY paced, something that pitifully cannot necessarily be said about in some of the other routes. Them falling in love felt very natural and the writers did not have to rely on shallow monologues like “he breathed in my direction, what is this feeling in my chest?!” to convince me that they were in love with each other. And when the admittance of love finally happens, it happens at very pivotal moments in the story that just makes the scene so much more emotional. 
Freaking 3k+ words and I still don’t think I did Edgar’s route justice. His route was amazingly written, and Edgar is an amazingly multifaceted and endearing character. Best boy truly got best route.
Anyway I’m almost done Loki’s route; Ray is next. After that, the routes I’m REALLY looking forward to and hope do not disappoint are: Harr, Seth, Kyle, and Luka.
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bruces7phds · 6 years
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A Hope to Hold On To
Summary: When Prince Thor of Asgard turned 18, the name Bruce Banner imprinted itself on the right side of his chest. For about a decade he would roam around his entire kingdom in hopes of locating this man—his soul mate—until one day he hears news of two inventors from a faraway kingdom, Midgard, who will be permanently relocating in Asgard.
Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Bruce Banner
Bruce couldn’t shake away the feeling he got after he met Thor Odinson.
When he first saw him, there was only one way he could’ve described him: intimidating. Thor towered over Bruce; his body was broad and his muscles bulged in his clothes. He had sharp, rigid features and a neatly-trimmed beard, making him handsome in a rugged and masculine way.
But what intimidated Bruce the most was the glaring aristocratic air Thor held with him. Growing up, Bruce had never done well with the upper-class: years of isolation, alienation, and being out-casted all came flooding back to him when he saw the way Thor stood with pride and dignity, accentuated with his gold-embroidered clothes matching his flowing blonde hair and bringing out his crystal-blue eyes. At that moment, with Thor in front of him in the back of the stage, he expected him to make snide remarks about the way he looks, sounds—anything.
Thor wasn’t anything like that.
When he approached Bruce awkwardly, he let his guard down a bit. When Thor started talking about his and Tony’s inventions with genuine interest—that was when Bruce decided he had judged him too quickly. They fell into an easy and casual conversation about the devices and science in general.
Bruce didn’t know what power he possessed with him that he could easily ruin the moment just by asking for his name.
When Thor told him his name and had expected him to know it, Bruce immediately went for the defensive and told him that he was new to Asgard and didn’t know anyone yet. He expected Thor to get mad at him, or confused, or condescending, or literally any other reaction he had ever gotten from any famous people he didn’t know. The last thing he was expecting was for Thor to look nervous and agitated. Another thing he wasn’t expecting was for him to flee as if something bad just happened.
All of these thoughts muddled Bruce’s mind, the churning in his gut never having quite left after their exchange. He opened the door to the building where he and Tony would be setting up their shop. Boxes and crates were already being shuffled around the ground floor by workers supervised by Happy.
Bruce went for the stairs which led to their apartment rooms above the shop. Right then, he needed someone to talk to.
“All right, so what got you so frazzled?” called Tony from the kitchen.
Bruce was sat in Tony and Pepper’s lounge. Their room was spacious, housing a couch, a fireplace, and bookshelves. Floorboards creaked under the weight of Tony’s feet as he walked over to wear Bruce was, carrying a tray of tea cups and a tea pot. He set these down on a coffee table in front of the sofa and settled down next Bruce, pouring tea for both of them.
“Someone . . . talked to me at the back of the stage in the convention earlier,” Bruce said, frowning. He rested his elbows on his thighs, chin on his hand.
“And? They get into any trouble?” Tony inquired, raising an eyebrow at Bruce.
“No—well, no . . . At first I thought he was one of the usual rich douchebags. Turns out he just wanted to ask about our convention, our inventions, the science behind them, our shop . . . basically nothing I ever expected.” Bruce sighed and closed his eyes, ruffling his hair. “It was going kind of fine, actually. Then I asked for his name, and he told me it was Thor Odinson, then he—”
Next to him, Tony spat out his drink. “Go on,” he said, when Bruce paused to look at him.
“. . . Yeah, so, anyway, this guy asked me if I knew who he was, then when I said no, he freaked out and just bolted out of the Oppland hall.” He rubbed his eyes, recalling the way Thor had looked. The poor guy was nothing short of okay, and Bruce wanted to help him. He looked back at Tony, who looked back at him with a mixture of emotions, possibly ranging from The fuck? and Are you actually that dumb? Hell, with Tony, Bruce could never know for sure.
“Bruce, buddy, you just had a conversation about steam engines to the crown prince of Asgard.”
Now it was Bruce’s turn to have a momentary what-the-actual-fuck expression. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he forgot how to speak for a while.
“Now, I don’t know why the crown prince would behave like that—”
“What about why he would be in the convention in the first place?” Bruce tried to look for any signs in Tony’s face that would tell him that he was only joking, but he seemed serious about Thor Odinson being the prince of Asgard.
Tony set down his cup and raised his hands. “Look, royalties are weird. I probably wouldn’t have been fazed had I been in your position.”
Bruce slowly shook his head, still in utter disbelief. Tony started laughing and said, “I can’t believe you met the Prince Thor of Asgard without knowing that he was the prince.”
“Hey, come one! You’re the one here with a lot of connections. Of course I wouldn’t know who he is! I barely knew anyone at Midgard, let alone here.” Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. “I still don’t understand why he would react like that. Getting annoyed for not knowing who he is? Plausible. Looking like he just saw someone being tortured? It seemed so random, it really got me worried.”
Tony rested his hand on his shoulder. “Look, you’re clearly just overthinking things. Like I said, royalties can be weird. I wouldn’t hold that against them.”
Bruce sighed. Both men settled into a comfortable silence. With Tony, Bruce never had to feel awkward. They had been best friends since they were children that they were practically brothers; they had always cared for each other.
The problem is, sometimes, Tony cared too much.
“Hey, so there is this nice restaurant just around the corner. Pepper and I decided to eat there for dinner. Maybe you should—”
“Tony, no.” Tony looked disappointed. He opened his mouth to argue more, but Bruce cut him off. “What with how I’m doing now, things won’t magically go back the way they used to.” Instinctively, Bruce placed his hand on his brace, caressing it. “Going out with the two of you . . . it would remind me too much of Betty.”
Just saying her name caused a pang in his heart. Almost three years had passed since the operation—when Bruce had failed when Betty needed him to succeed the most. At first, Bruce lost the will to live. He couldn’t think of a life without his beloved—his soul mate. But eventually he started patching himself up. Granted, there were still holes, but it was still progress.
Tony didn’t take his eyes off Bruce. “At least promise me you’ll be okay?”
Bruce smiled at him. “Of course. After all, isn’t that the reason why we decided to set up this shop?”
Tony smiled back, draping an arm around his shoulders. “I swear it’ll get better, Bruce.”
“I know.”
Snow crunched under Bruce’s feet as he stepped out of their shop. The sharp, cold wind cut into his face. The morning sun was practically blocked off by the clouds and snow. He pulled his hood over his head and clutched his cloak, setting his path to a store several blocks down.
Only a week had passed since the convention, yet the harsh winter had already greeted them—well, harsh for Bruce, it seemed. Walking along the sidewalk, he noticed a lot of children playing in the snow: throwing snowballs, making snowmen, some just hurling themselves into a pile of snow. Even the streets were busier; carriages trudged along, some clearing the road of snow, others going around the town selling coal. Bruce stopped to buy some for the furnace in his and Tony’s workshop, and stuffed it in a satchel he brought with him.
After what felt like half an hour of trekking through the snowy Alps, Bruce arrived at the Foster Chemical Enterprises. Entering the store, he was met with the familiar sight of chemicals stacked on racks against the walls. At the counter, Jane Foster was reading. Hearing him come in, she looked up and smiled at him. “Hi, Bruce.”
Putting down his hood, he walked toward the counter. Smiling back, he said, “Hello, Jane. Has the sulfuric acid I ordered arrived yet?” He had ordered it on the same day of the convention—which was also the day they met. Both being scientists and from Midgard (although Jane had moved to Asgard when she was younger), they instantly became kindred spirits.
“Just today, actually. Come on.” Jane stood up and entered a backdoor. Bruce followed suit.
The storage room was quite large; it had a lot of boxes, most of them having a warning sign. Jane picked up a tightly covered bottle from one of the shelves. “500 milligrams of sulfuric acid, for Banner,” she read, giving the bottle to him.
“Thank you.” Bruce carefully put it in his satchel.
Both walked back to the counter where Bruce paid. Just as Bruce was about to leave, Jane told him, “You know, I’m supposed to ask what you’re going to use it for, but seeing as you’re wearing a brace, I don’t think it would be necessary.”
Bruce looked at her in confusion. “Why? And what does my brace have to do with it?”
“Some people buy corrosive chemicals to burn a part of their skin that has their soul mate's name.”
This confused Bruce even more. “Why would they do that?”
“Depends.” Jane shrugged. “Some do that instead of wearing a brace. Others do it because their name changed and they don't want their former soul mate to know.”
“This is the first time I heard about this policy in a store.” Bruce frowned, pondering the reason of this policy that Jane told him. “Actually, this is also the first time I heard about deliberately burning your own skin.”
“Midgardian laws and customs are different.”
“I didn't even know your mark can change.”
“Well, it can. Can’t say it happens all the time.” Jane sat back behind the counter.
Bruce was silent for a while. These revelations nearly shook him to his core. Maybe these will distract me enough to help me move on from Betty? he thought “Huh. Okay . . . Well, thanks again, Jane.”
Jane nodded at him and waved him goodbye as he left.
There were a handful of customers at the Stark and Banner Tech when Bruce arrived. Pepper was at the front desk, while Tony handled the customers.
Bruce showed the bottle of sulfuric acid to Tony, and he gave a thumbs-up of approval. Bruce made a beeline toward the back of the store where their lab was.
There, he stacked the acid with the other corrosive acids and, donning his lab coat and goggles, got to work. Recently he had been working on distilling petroleum in order to use the petroleum oil for lamps as opposed to whale oil. If he were able to do this, then not only would they have a more accessible form of fuel for lamps (as petroleum is abundant), the hunting of whales would drastically decline.
Hours passed with Bruce testing different temperatures for distillation and gathering samples. He tested these and noted all of the different effects they brought to several lamps. Just as he was nearing the perfectly distilled form of petroleum, Tony shouted from the store, “Bruce! Can you come here for a while?”
“That can probably wait, this can’t,” Bruce called back. He was about to put oil in the lamp when Tony interrupted him again—
“Uh, no, this can’t either. I’m serious.”
With a snarl, he set down the materials and removed his goggles. Stomping over to the store, he snapped at Tony. “Tony—”
Bruce stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him was Tony, looking at him expectantly, and behind him was—
“Ah, there you are, Banner,” greeted Prince Thor, looking delighted. “I wish to speak with you regarding our previous encounter.”
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bratdroid-blog · 5 years
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The love story of the century, in cinemas now. 
@paradoxidolatry
Coco
> You have the smuggest smug smile to ever smug on your face as you start singing for your boyfriend. 
 "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. 
I'm half crazy all for the love of you. 
It won't be a stylish marriage. 
I can't afford a carriage. But you'll look sweet upon the seat. 
Of a bicycle built for two."
Carro
> You are blushing ear to ear, and though you've got your mouth covered with the heel of your hand, you are grinning widely and earnestly.  You laugh, a bit breathlessly. 
 "Hal..."
Coco
> Aw yeah, that's what you lose to see. You were already feeling extra soft after last night, filled with Anime, sentimental moments and soft touches. A good reminder of why exactly you do love this man despite all his flaws. 
> You quickly pull him into a embrace, and press a sweet little kiss on his face.
"So, what do you say, Daisy?"
Carro
> You are, by all counts, a big man.  Not the biggest, no, especially in this city of meaty mobsters and bodybuilders, but you know you're fairly tall and well-built for a regular ass human.  But that doesn't stop you from feeling so small right in this moment, arms wrapped around Hal, just.  Absolutely lit up like a Christmas tree. 
> You're still grinning. 
 "You... are you serious....?"
Coco
"I don't sing Daisy Bell for just anyone, dude. Told you: It's always been just you.  I won't ever sing it for anyone else."
> You just wanted to tease him but... The moment seems just a bit too perfect to back out now. This isn't something you had ever expected or calculated but that alone makes it worth it. The unknown is exciting when you get to take the jump with your lover. 
> Weird. Were you always THIS gay?
Carro
> You are....for lack of better word, speechless.  Your mouth flaps uselessly and soundlessly for a few moments, floundering for something intelligent and witty to say, and you come up painfully, awkwardly short. 
> But you do find some words, and those words have a strange, exciting shape: "...Fuck it.  Yeah.  Yeah, sure, yes, let's.  I'd love to... I.  Yes, Hal."
Coco
> Just watching him struggle to form a sentence is already enough of a reward but the words that do end up leaving his mouth?  Make you wish you had a heart to skip a beat. 
> Once again it's a blessing that you can kiss him deeply and talk at the same time. 
"Then let's do it, Daisy Bell. You're going to be mine forever, and I'll be yours."
Carro
> You laugh again against his lips and you throw all of yourself into that kiss.  You feel 17 again--light and excited and hopeful for the future to come. 
"No one else's." 
> Shit, are you crying?  You sniff and lean back to swipe at your eyes.  Fuck, you've been doing this weaksauce shit a lot lately.  Goddamn you, Hal--reminding you that you, in fact, still have a heart.  You take a moment to step away and breathe, fan yourself off a bit, but you're still grinning. 
"Well, fuck, alright, so this is happening.  How's it happening? When? We gonna do a whole ass white wedding or?"
Coco
> This is all you ever wanted for him, and if a silly human tradition is what it takes to have him feel that again, you will gladly go along with it. You don't think either of you has ever so much as seriously thought about marriage, let alone considered getting married yourself but damn. If not him, who else? You give him his moment, but the smile on you face doesn't die for a second. Your eyes may be artificial creations but the love in your gaze is as real as it can be.  It's always been all for him. 
"Well...Don't have a ring right or anything for you babe, but I was thinking we should do something more permanent anyways. You're into tattoos yeah?"
You had considered that one for a while at least, if not in the context of god damn marriage. 
"Right now, is what I want to say but I'm afraid my papers aren't official quite yet. That means I have time to get the prettiest damn wedding dress this shit moon has ever seen though, so there's that."
Carro
> A tattoo wedding band.  Well, shit goddamn.  If that ain't just the best idea you've ever heard.  He's already given you a nice scar to mark you by.  Why not a tattoo? 
 "Fuck yeah... Fuck yeah, aight, we can do a tattoo.  Maybe engrave your finger or somethin'... get a ring to slow in it later, but just like, something to always have around that can't get lost."
God, what is this feeling?  Is this the human emotion called marriage? Aaaand then there's the papers. 
"Shit, that's right... How long's that supposed to take, anyway?"
Coco
"That's exactly what I was going to suggest. Let's do this shit. You got a tattoo shop of choice who will take us on today?" 
> You are literally buzzing with excitement. This joke got real fast but you are not complaining. 
"I'm gonna beg the Queen for this shit, dude. Bitch is a major sucker for this gay shit, I think we have good chances at getting this. About...Sec. About 80%. Messaging her as we speak."
Carro
"Might be able to find someone, but if not, y'know... I trusted you with a scalpel, I think I can trusts you with inking me up." 
> You might also literally be buzzing with excitement, and then your jaw drops. 
"You're- seriously? The Queen? Right now?"
Coco
"Aw babe... Sure, I can do it if you got the equipment." 
> That's even better actually. You haven't done this before, but with the power of internet tutorials? No biggie. 
"Fuck yeah I am. Look, we're both not great with authority and whatever, but she runs this damn gay ass moon and she adores me. Might as well use that to get my gay on. right?"
Carro
"Sure do.  I'll dig it up after the uh, the wedding I guess." 
> You laugh, and you nod, and then you... you exhale deeply, scrubbing your face with your hands as the depth of what's happening slams into you. 
"Holy fuck, we're getting married.  For real.  Tonight."
Coco
"Fuck yeah we are. She said yes. Gotta get our asses to the courthouse asap, dude." 
> Yeah, you really are vibrating with excitement. You are running too hot already, but not to the point where you are going to fry your brain for good. Just the good, gay warmth. 
> You couldn't possibly resist pulling him close for another deep kiss. 
"God. I love you so much, you piece of shit. How dare you do this to me." 
> That about sums up your relationship, yeah.
Carro
> And now you're back out of your intense spiral with a laugh and a kiss.  You hug him tight and you kiss him again and again until you are utterly breathless. 
"Cuz I fuckin love you with every little ... gay-ass bit of my heart, you motherfucker.  I can't fuckin believe us, goddamn U-haul gays.  'Hey, long time no see, you wanna move in and get hitched, maybe?'"
Coco
"You said it yourself, we've already been an old married couple before I got this sweet bod of mine. It's only right to make it official, yeah?" 
> God, you can hardly believe this yourself. Best stupid decision that started as a joke you made in your whole damn life though. 
"Can't wait to start my new life as an official, real ass person by marrying you. Seems fitting. You are stuck with me forever now."
Carro
> You lean in and touch your forehead to his, staring deep into those beautiful fuckin robo eyes. 
"There's nobody I'd rather be stuck with."
Coco
"That's fucking gay, dude." 
> And you love it, so much. Your hands cup his face, itching to be as  close as possible. 
 "Not gay if it's with a robot, right?"
Carro
> You smile somewhat bashfully at Hal and you shrug lightly. 
"...Might still be pretty gay, even with a robot."
Coco
> Oh wow. Is that what it takes to make Dirk Strider finally fucking realize he is indeed, fucking gay? Just a little gay marriage, huh? You said you wouldn't push it though, so you don't. 
"Glad I get to be your gay robot exception, dude. Couldn't be happier."
Carro
> You're glad he doesn't push it; you're still gonna be struggling with that one for a while, but... But this? This is good.  Great, even. Perfect, actually. 
> You kiss him again, and don't let up for a long time, before murmuring, 
"Gotta get dressed and get going, I guess.  Gonna go pick up Sock along the way.  Is Dave... here? We gonna have to pick him up too?"
Coco
> You could spend another few hours kissing him, but you will have plenty of time for that after he becomes your husband. What a weird thought that is. Has you smiling all over again. Seems like your face is stuck like that for now. 
"Shit, I don't have any formal clothes dude. How embarrassing is that?" 
> Not that you really give a flying fuck over getting married in your usual clothes. 
"Yeah, here's hoping he'll be ready in under an hour."
Carro
"Haha, I don't think I've got my good shit out and ready... You can, uh... borrow some of mine, if you want, though? I mean, shit, you could just go naked and I'd be happy." 
> You, though, are already stripping off your BIG MILK t-shirt and looking for a clean, half-decent button-up. 
"He better be.  We got twenty minutes before Sock's ready to pick up."
Coco
"You think all of Derse is ready for my beautiful bod, though?"
That's really the main reason you even bother with clothes at all when you leave the house. Looking at least a bit more normal. Not that you exactly care for anyone's opinion, just makes shit easier. 
"Sure, that's romantic right? Boyfriend style is in yeah? Or husband in this case."
Carro
A shudder runs visible through you and your turn a grin back at Hal. 
"Say that again."
Coco
"Nu uh. Not yet, my dude. Gotta earn the H word first."
Carro
"Awww, c'mon." 
You laugh and then you rummage through your closet until you find a dark red button up for Hal, with silvery white pinstripes. 
"Just once."
Coco
> Aw it's your color. He does care. That earns him a quick peck on the lips. 
"Fine. You are my motherfucking husbando, Dirk. Better than any fucking anime guy, even Android 17."
Carro
"Shit goddamn.  Even Android 17, for real?  I must be special." 
> You wink and then toss on an orange shit and a black jacket and slacks, before fishing out a matching pair for Hal. 
"Does that also make you the husbando? Or is one of us the waifu?"
Coco
"I mean, i ain't giving up on my figures of him for you, but yeah. I'm choosing you over my anime boyfriend." 
> That's love bitch. 
 > This is actually yet another first for you, first time putting on a suit. That shit's not rocket science though. 
 "A family can be two husbandos and their two baby brothers, who are also dating. Y'know. That sounds exactly like an anime plot actually." 
> Thank god that you are not living in an anime, or this shit would be way weird.
Carro
> Jokes on you, life is the ultimate anime. 
> But you laugh and you get yourself sorted out, throwing a white tie around your neck but not quite tying it yet.  You turn to Hal and look to see if he needs any help...but mostly? You're just staring at him, in awe and full of warm, gay, fuzzy-ass dokis. 
"Guess you've got a point there.  Life with the Striders is my favorite fuckin anime this season."
Coco
> You have never tied a tie in your life, but you tie his like you've never done anything else in your life. You are a quick learner after all. 
 "Yeah same..Hey babe?" 
> There's never been as good of a moment to get gay. You continue your song from earlier, just for him. 
"We will go tandem as man and husbando
Daisy, Daisy 
Peddling our way down the road of life 
I and my daisy bell 
When the roads dark we can both despise 
Policemen and the lamps as well 
There are bright lights in those dazzling eyes 
Of beautiful daisy bell" 
> Naturally a song from 1892 did not in fact include the word husbando, but sometimes you just gotta get creative.(edited)
Carro
> Ohhhhh, Hal, you fucker, you've done it now. 
> There are actual, real tears running down your face, and you're stuck halfway between mopping them up, and just covering your face, and you really can't decide what to do with your hands, so you instead place them on Hal's hips instead of anywhere near the vicinity of you.  You're laughing, and you lean in to kiss him again. 
> If you could, you'd never stop kissing him. 
> Also you can't believe a song from 1892 is your song, but hey you wouldn't have it any other way.  Except maybe a hip-hop cover of the song, down the road. 
"I love you."
Coco
"Love you too, Daisy Bell." 
> You gladly kiss him again as you gently wipe some of those tears again. God, look at the two of you, getting all sorts of gay in fucking record time. You both really needed this for a long ass time, didn't you? 
> You are far too happy to ruin this by psychoanalyzing everything about it, not in this very moment at least.
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itsya1upboy-blog · 6 years
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A Peaceless Sanctuary
Summary: Guild Muninn arrives at the South Sanctuary with the Outland Count, but this wisteria-laced compound is not as peaceful as it may seem… What secrets will be uncovered here?
Notes: One, I named their airship after the original legend of the “divine wind” that deterred the Mongols, NOT the suicide pilots. Two, yes, I literally stole portions of dialogue from the game. After all, I am rewriting an in-game scene. And why do the hard part when it’s already done for you?~ (Actually, looking it over, it’s mostly description of my own and dialogue ripped from the game. Oh well, all the angsty reactions and heated arguments can be piled onto one part. This scene was a crapton of exposition anyways.) Enjoy!~
The Kamikaze, as graceful as the savior winds which bore its name, landed in front of the small compound on the southern border of the Empire.
“We’ve landed, milord,” Marianne called from the helm of the ship. The Outland Count nodded and scooped Margherita out of his lap and into his arms; the fluffy, white dog yipped happily and sniffed the air with vigorous curiosity.
Edge stared at the entrance of the compound with an inscrutable expression. His face was white as a sheet, but other than that, it betrayed no emotion. He pulled the mask portion of his cloak up over the bottom half of his face and adjusted the hood from where it had been blown about during landing.
As Guild Muninn departed the Kamikaze with the Count, Ciaran smiled and took to the helm of the ship. “I’ll stay with yer skyship so she’s ready to go on a moment’s notice,” he reassured them, patting the steering wheel lightly. “So don’t yeh be worried about that.”
Marianne nodded with a grim smile and waved as she descended the steps onto the sparse grass of the Cloudy Stronghold.
Once the steps to the deck were folded up and everyone was steady on their feet, they all looked around in amazement at this new land. Crumbling, moss-coated aqueducts lined the southern borderlands, too high for the Kamikaze to reach the top of, and far too high to see the tops of from the ground. Small, still lakes adorned the corners of this small enclave, and beyond the line of Imperial warships that stood behind the South Sanctuary, the guild could see another antiquated complex. The grass was sparse and dry, yet vibrantly green, a storm of contradictions; small farms dotted the landscape, their fields barren except for a few stalks of wheat growing stalwartly out of the lifeless soil.
Edge, however, glanced around with a different sort of awe, one filled with fear and homesickness and pointedly absent of curiosity, that did not go unnoticed by the Outland Count.
“My boy, are you alright?” the Count asked with genuine concern, touching Edge’s shoulder lightly. Edge jumped a bit at the sensation of the Count’s fingers and nodded.
“I’m just… This place reminds me of my own home…” he whispered, staring down at the ground.
The Count nodded as Lis glanced over his shoulder suspiciously and called out for the two to come with them.
“It’s so strange to think of humans living at the foot of Yggdrasil, isn’t it?” Marianne mused as she opened the heavy door of the compound. “It’s like a dream.”
“It’s like if angels came down to Earth and communed with us,” Lis replied thoughtfully as he followed her inside.
Miku looked behind her to make sure that Edge and the Count were with them before saying, “The Vessels have always revered Yggdrasil… To think that humans can touch it, when we merely hear the words of its prophet from afar, is awe-inspiring.”
A pained expression flickered across her face as she remembered the Medium’s plight. Lis smiled sadly and put a hand on her back. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll save her soon enough.”
Mia nodded from underneath Miku’s cloak. “We have to save her! That’s our job, right?”
As the heavy door slammed shut behind Guild Muninn and the Outland Count, the two Imperial soldiers inside stared at the party with great interest. The Outland Count stepped forward.
“Is the meeting to be held in the next room?” he inquired.
The Imperial soldiers stood at attention and looked directly at the Count.
“No, Your Grace. Your escort may wait in the next room, but the meeting will be held in the one beyond that,” the one on the left explained.
“There is another soldier in that room to ensure that nothing happens to your detail,” the one on the right added.
“Thank you.”
The Outland Count turned to Guild Muninn and nodded, and they went into the next room.
Past the door, there stood a painfully familiar man. Though his gray hair was slicked back to reveal black roots, and his pointed stare was immeasurably cool and detached, it was undeniably Whirlwind. His cold, steel armor resembled that of the Imperial soldiers in the other room, differing only in color- Whirlwind’s was an unforgiving black.
“Greeting, Your Grace,” Whirlwind said coolly. “His Imperial Highness will be with you in a moment.”
As though on cue, the doors into the next room opened, and a young man stepped through them.
“I thank you for meeting with me this day, Outland Count. I am Baldur, son and representative of Emperor Alfodr. I am gladdened to my heart's core to be reunited with fellow humans.”
The Imperial Prince’s carriage was dignified and aloof, but his large eyes and innocent mop of white hair pointed at a youth unbefitting of the maturity in his expression.
As the two members of nobility exchanged pleasantries, the five explorers looked at each other worriedly. And as the Count approached the door, he turned to them and noticed this.
"Don't worry," the Count reassured them. "Margherita won't let anything happen!" Margherita barked happily, her tail wagging where it poked out from under the Count’s arm. "I know you must have questions as well. I suggest that you speak to Whirlwind while I am indisposed." The Count smiled dauntlessly and walked into the next room.
As the doors shut with a resounding boom, Guild Muninn realized that they were alone with Whirlwind.
A traitor.
With his arms behind his back, Whirlwind looked at the guild expressionlessly. The guild stared back at him, trying to find the words…
A choked sob came from the left of the group, and everyone turned to see who it came from.
Edge was staring at Whirlwind with such pain, such sorrow, that Marianne could tell that it was from more than the pain of betrayal. As tears rolled down the man’s face, she shook him lightly.
“Edge, is this what you refused to tell us…?” she asked quietly.
Edge’s breathing grew quicker and more ragged as he continued to stare straight at Whirlwind.
“E-Edge?”
“L-Logre…” Edge croaked.
A brief look of surprise flashed across Whirlwind’s face, but he didn’t lost his composure.
“...Logre?”
“Is that your true name, Whirlwind?” Miku asked.
Whirlwind nodded. “My bloodline has served the Emperor for generations as Imperial knights,” he explained. “About ten years ago, I was given a mission to go beyond the barrier...that wall of clouds in the ravine. But my skyship crashed within view of Tharsis. Ever since, I've posed as a wandering explorer and waited for the right opportunity.
“There was another skyship that was with us. My ship contained only myself and Emperor Alfodr, while the other one contained a detail of around ten Imperial soldiers that would escort us through the labyrinths as we gathered the pieces of the Titan. These soldiers were handpicked from among the Imperial army’s best and brightest to serve the royal family directly. I was their commander.
“Our skyships were separated early on when a snowstorm hit us, blinding us. When my ship came through it, the other one was gone. We were never reunited, but I did come across the wreckage later on…”
Logre cleared his throat.
“I had assumed that everyone on that ship had died, because all that was left was their charred remains… However, it seems that one soldier did survive, and that we simply have not been able to meet.”
He stared pointedly at Edge.
“Havardr… Rumors have been swirling since your guild’s arrival, that another soldier was found alive. His Imperial Highness believes it wholeheartedly, and I know it to be true. I am certain that you would be welcomed back with open arms.”
The others stared at Edge with shock and betrayal as Edge buried his face in his hands and began sobbing loudly. He was shaking, and his ears grew redder by the second.
Marianne wrapped an arm around Edge’s hunched back and held him close to her side. “Edge… It’s okay. It will all be okay,” she whispered soothingly.
“But I don’t get it! What’s so great about this ‘Empire’ that you left Tharsis?” Mia huffed.
“Mia…” Lis said calmly, holding her back. “It seems that this is his home.”
“He surely didn’t have to kidnap the Medium, though,” Miku countered. “Will she be alright, Wh- Logre?”
"She's safe,” Logre answered. “She should still be resting in the Echoing Library to the north as our guest. The Sentinels' legend has it that the Vessels took the Titan's Soul back with them... But what they refer to by this is the Medium herself.”
Miku coughed nervously and nodded. “That’s how she receives her prophecies… She is Yggdrasil.”
“Bringing the Titan's Soul back to the Empire was one of my tasks…” Logre continued. “I didn't think it would take that form, though. We have no intention of harming the girl, but she will remain in our custody until we are done with her."
“What are you going to do to her?!” Mia yelled from Lis’s embrace, a simple side hug that kept her at bay.
“I do not know the details of the ritual,” Logre said curtly. “However, if the Medium was able to leave Yggdrasil once, then she will be able to do so again.”
“But what’s even the point of this?” Lis asked tiredly. “Why is this ‘Empire’ so attached to Yggdrasil in the first place?”
Logre paused for a moment, lost in thought, seeming to consider how to explain this to the guild.
“I failed you…” Edge whispered hoarsely. “I was supposed to help you…”
Logre glanced at Edge; though his face was calm, his eyes betrayed his sorrow.
“Havardr, I know you know this…as well as I do. Your job was to protect the king and I. You have not failed in your mission. My duty is not yours.”
“No… I still feel…”
“Edge, please… Let Logre answer one question at a time,” Marianne said in a calm, soothing manner.
“Whir- Logre…” Lis began. “What is this Empire, that they care so much about Yggdrasil?”
"The Empire is descended from the humans who once lived at the foot of Yggdrasil," Whirlwind said calmly. “It was our ancestors who created the Vessels and Sentinels… After an accident at Yggdrasil, most of us, save for a few, evacuated north, beyond this Cloudy Stronghold. That is the truth behind the Battle for the Holy Tree passed down through the Vessels' legend. We are the humans they tell of who 'ran' from the Titan. That must have been how it seemed to them."
“So… So you...didn’t abandon us?” Miku inquired, trembling with the weight of this information.
“No, we did not,” Logre answered. “We evacuated our civilians, and only combatants stayed behind to quell the Titan. The Sentinels and the Vessels to the south of the border are all descended from the warriors and medics who fought at our side; thus, they may feel that the other humans fled out of cowardice. However, the Vessels and Sentinels who live to the north and still serve humans know the true history of the Battle for the Holy Tree.”
Miku was now staring down at the ground, lost deep in thought. Lis wrapped an arm around her tiny shoulders while making sure that Mia still couldn’t escape and whale on Logre.
Logre cleared his throat, and everyone looked up at him.
"Over one hundred years ago, the Empire was faced with a dilemma that we need Yggdrasil's power to solve. To harness it, we'll need the Titan's Heart, its Soul, and its Crown. The Vessels had the soul, the heart was with the Sentinels, and the crown was an heirloom of the Count's.
“The crown was easy to get, since the Count didn't know its value. The heart and soul weren't so simple. At first, I thought of simply taking the Medium away, but then my cover in Tharsis would have been blown. So I kept a low profile until the heart was found. With both gathered in the same place, I made my move."
A pained expression flickered across his face as he admitted his betrayal.
“You could have told us!” Mia shouted.
“Really, you could have,” Miku concurred. “I’m sure the Count would have been more than willing to help your people.”
“I don’t understand, Whirlwind… Ah, Logre…” Marianne pleaded. “Why didn’t you ask anyone for help?”
“Your anger and distrust are only natural, sin---”
“We could ask Edge the same thing, couldn’t we?” Lis grumbled, glaring at the blonde man who was now out of tears to shed.
Edge looked up at Lis with a haunted expression. “I couldn’t...blow his cover,” he said shakily. “The Empire couldn’t be uncovered too quickly, or it might slow down exploration in Tharsis… Had the Count known of its existence, he may never have decided to send explorers to Yggdrasil in the first place, wary of their reaction. If you haven’t been home in a decade, forced out of your home, to wander through snowstorms and the mazes of mantises’ scythes all alone until you reach a foreign land, wondering all that time if your family is even still alive, you foremost concern would be getting home swiftly as well.”
“Havardr makes a good point,” Logre said with a nod in that general direction. “I could have been entirely open and possibly had the willing help of the Count, the Vessels, and the Sentinels. But the Empire's problem was nearing a crisis point and I could not fail. So I made sure I was holding all the cards before opening negotiation, knowing full well how it would look. Right now, His Imperial Highness is in there, explaining to the Count how necessary Yggdrasil's power is to us. Once the crisis has passed, we will return the heart. And of course, the Medium will be free to---”
The doors behind Logre slammed open, shaking the entire room.
The Outland Count stepped into the room, his face red with fury, his lips drawn into a tight line. He was shaking like a leaf, and Margherita was whimpering in his arms.
“Milord, what’s---”
Prince Baldur stepped out calmly behind the Count and surveyed the scene. He looked back at the Count.
"Outland Count, is our dream of utopia truly so difficult to understand? If you are a leader of men, then you must consider what is most beneficial to Tharsis as well. We are both humans, who share an ancestry. What else can we do but join hands?"
The Count turned to Baldur angrily, protectively clutching Margherita closer to his chest.
Baldur glanced over at Edge with some degree of interest, and holds a hand to stop the Count as the older man opens his mouth.
“One moment, if you please. Logre, is this the other soldier that’s been rumored to have returned?”
“He is, Your Highness.”
“I see… Please lower your mask, if you will, in the presence of royalty.”
Edge’s hand was already on the mask of his cloak and was lowering it as the young prince spoke. The Count was staring at Edge with shock and disgust.
Baldur smiled brightly. “So you must be Havardr Svensson! My father spoke highly of you, as the youngest recruit in this generation. I simply cannot believe that you survived that skyship crash. Logre tells me that the wreckage was absolutely horrid.”
Edge closed his eyes with a pained expression, gritted his teeth, and nodded. “It absolutely was, Your Highness… I was the only survivor. I still see the flames when I close my eyes at night…”
“Well, you fulfilled your duties to the best of your ability, and I am willing to let you return to your homeland and serve me once more…” Baldur said with a polite, dignified smile.
“You can’t---!” the Count cried. “You simply cannot join this wretched prince!”
Baldur glanced back at the Count coldly. Edge also looked over at the Count.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace, but I… I’m finally home, and I---”
“You don’t understand! Prince Baldur’s plans are loathsome! He intends to sacrifice the Medium to revive the Titan and the Vessels and Sentinels to augment its power! He claims to be building a utopia, but what worth is there in a utopia built on a mountain of corpses?!”
Whirlwind’s eyes widened upon hearing this, and he turned to his lord. Edge was trembling with fury, his icy blue eyes cutting holes through everyone so much as in his peripheral vision.
“Is that so…” he growled. “Well then, consider me dead and gone in your records. I could never stand for a ruler that so blatantly defies Emperor Alfodr’s wishes while still claiming that he’s the standing Emperor. I will not stand for such a ruler. I will not claim Imperial citizenship while you still breathe, Prince Baldur.”
Edge’s rapier began rattling in its sheath, and he looked down in confusion only to realize that he was gripping the pommel so hard that it was shaking in time with his body.
Baldur shrugged and turned to the Outland Count calmly. “Very well. It seems further explanation is due. I cannot let you leave in this state. Logre, detain the Outland Count. I leave the handling of his escort to your discretion.”
Logre hesitated for a moment before pulling his giant sword off of his back. It began to emit a mechanical whir.
“That must have been what was in his bag…” Marianne mumbled as she stepped in front of the Outland Count, pulling up her shield. “Everyone, behind me!”
“I’m sorry that you came to such a decision, Havardr…” Baldur said quietly as he turned to leave the room. “You will be missed.”
Edge choked back a sob as he stared at his former king leaving the room.
“Logre… You don’t have to… Please...”
“Havardr, there is nothing more to say. The situation has changed. Now, will you protect the Count, or not?”
Edge unsheathed his rapier and turned to his comrades.
“Follow my lead,” he said sternly. “I know my way around a Drive Blade.”
~~~~~
Oh wow, seems like Edge can get his shit together when he needs to. He hasn’t drank any alcohol today...or last night...but this will probably lead to physical effects later on if he keeps it up in the Echoing Library.
Aw yeah, that’s right, he was sober when he renounced his citizenship, if a bit lightheaded and perhaps delirious.
I can’t write any battle scenes... Though I may do Logre fight #2 at some point, have Edge and Logre arguing before the fight.
This was probably somewhat disappointing, since a lot of the dialogue was ripped straight from the game. And by that, I mean it’s from the actual text files and I converted it all to half-width characters so it was readable. So, yeah, that’s a thing. Also why it probably all sounds vaguely familiar to you.
@theshatteredrose It’s the man who’s synonymous with heartbreak and PAIN, just for you! :D
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tastesoftamriel · 6 years
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Rags to riches (a long tale by Talviel)
After our literal trip to hell and back, Brynjolf and I went to our fence in Windhelm, and in the back room divided the loot that we would keep for the Guild and what would go to the High King, including the great sigil stone. We packed the chest onto a carriage with two armed guards and a courier carrying a message from us, and hired another carriage to take us home to Riften, too weary from our trials to walk home with a sack and a half of daedric treasure.
A week later, there was a great rumbling as the armed carriage pulled up to the back gate of Riften, closest to the cistern. Brynjolf, Vex, Delvin and I stood with arms crossed, looking indifferent on the outside but shaking with anticipation within. The High King had come through on his promise, and the Thieves Guild was about to receive its biggest load of coin in our generation. The Imperial guards jumped down, slowly hauling down three massive chests.
“Delvin, get a few of the kids laying about to help bring all this down.” Brynjolf said. Delvin nodded and turned back to the cistern entrance, never taking his eyes off the chests. “Well, here you go. A very, very large sum of gold most people would never see in their lifetimes.” The head guard said, visibly displeased to have anything to do with us criminals. “Good luck counting it all, but the treasurer says it’s all there.” “We’ll take your word for it, lad.” Brynjolf said, passing him a large crate of Black-Briar mead and a pouch of coin. “For your troubles. Don’t drink it all at once.” The guards, now looking much happier, jumped back on their carriage to make the long journey back to Solitude.
Several new recruits climbed out of our (not so) secret entrance, with Delvin in tow. “Careful with that, boys and girls, and I want this brought straight to the vault, you hear me?” He hissed, and the poor underlings got to work hauling the heavy chests. Vex held the door to the cistern open while they lowered the chests down on ropes before hauling them towards the vault. We clambered down after them, Brynjolf nonchalantly twirling the key to the vault when it was obvious he’d never been happier in his life. He opened the vault door, whistling, while gesturing for Vex, Delvin and I to come in. He swung shut the heavy doors behind us with a clang, and proceeded to unlock the chests.
“Holy fuck.” Vex breathed. “So we get to retire now, or what?” “‘fraid not lass, we’ve got a guild across Tamriel to take care of, and we look after our own. I’ve drawn up a list of the places that need the coin most and how much they’ve been allocated, but first and foremost I never back down on a promise. Lass, a quarter of this is yours.” He said, slapping my ass. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I know Talviel is your favourite, but Brynjolf, that is an insane amount of coin for one person.” Delvin almost shouted, looking shocked. “You shut your mouth, Delvin. Where were you fighting by my side in Oblivion? Where were you tending to my wounds as I lay dying? The lass more than deserves this. What she chooses to do with it is her prerogative.”
I stood in silence for a while, chewing my lip. All eyes were on me. “Bryn…Vex, Delvin. I made up my mind on the way home. You’re right, Delvin, this is a stupid amount of money I most likely won’t ever use up in my lifetime. I’m a simple girl who grew up near the Ratways, and now I wander Tamriel alone. I’ve decided to take 70,000 for myself, which should last me at least a few years. 10,000 goes to the orphanage, another 40,000 to my parents, and 10,000 to the Bee and Barb. The rest, I feel is only right, goes to all of you. The Riften Thieves Guild. It’s only fair. You shaped me, and I am who I am because of all of you.”
“Lass, you needn’t-” “I’m serious, Bryn. In all the years I ran with the Guild until now, the cistern looks like shit. You all deserve better. Use the coin as you see fit. Spruce the place up a little, get some light in there, get some beds that don’t feel like rocks. Let our refuge reflect our power.” “'Our’?” Vex asked with a smile tugging at her lips. “Welcome back, sister.” “Welcome back.” Delvin agreed, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’m not sure if I’m really back-” I began, but Brynjolf cut me off. “Lass, you never really left us in the first place. Ever.” “Touché.”
Once we agreed that the senior members would draw straws to see who would count our share of coin (poor Niruin got the job), we trudged to the Flagon, our heads still reeling. “Vekel, roll out a barrel of mead if you please.” Brynjolf said. “We’re probably not going to drink the whole thing, but we’re going to need as much as possible.” Vekel obliged, and brought over three tankards. Delvin filled them to the brim, and we clapped them together. “To Brynjolf and Talviel, saviours of the Guild.” Vex smiled. “Naw, lass, we were just doing what we needed to do. I mean, the almost getting killed part wasn’t very fun, but we made it didn’t we?” Brynjolf took a chug of mead and put his arm around me. I smiled into my tankard, saying nothing. My silence spoke volumes.
Suddenly, Tonilia rushed over. “Is it true? About the gold?” She whispered. “Aye lass, but this stays between us senior members. Don’t want us shouting from the rooftops that we’ve come into a vast fortune.” “Vast? VAST? That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one, boss.” She went over to the counter and grabbed herself an empty flagon. “Not all of it is for the Riften branch. This goes to all our branches over Tamriel, based on their need. I’ll gather you all together later and we’ll make final agreements on the amounts. But Vi here, has been very generous, and has left a huge sum for us to play with here in Riften.”
“Vi? Who’s Vi?” Vex asked quizzically, before noticing Brynjolf’s arm around me and my head on his shoulder. “Oh Nine save us, the boss is in love.” She groaned, taking a hearty swig from her tankard. “Well…I believe congratulations are in order. When’s the wedding?” Delvin asked. I choked on my mead. “Oh dear Talos, we’re not getting married.” Tonilia scoffed. “Yeah right, this is Skyrim, and most people get married within hours of meeting each other. You’ve known each other for almost a decade, and Talviel, it’s been very, very obvious that you’ve had a crush on old Brynjolf here since you first joined our ranks.” “Old? Who’re you calling old? I’m eight years older than the lass!” He spluttered indignantly. “Whatever, we’re rich, cheers.” Vex laughed, raising her tankard.
Some hours later, Brynjolf and I dragged the chest containing the sum agreed to my parents to their house. My father opened the door when he heard the loud thudding outside, and his eyebrows raised when he saw the chest. “What’s all this, now?” He asked. “Let us inside and we’ll explain everything.” I panted, and we dragged the chest inside. “And…you are?” He asked Brynjolf. “Well met. Brynjolf, at your service good man.” He said, dropping the chest when the door was safely closed behind us. “Brynjolf? The Brynjolf?” His eyes narrowed. “Talviel, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, and fast.”
My mother clattered up the stairs from the cellar upon hearing the commotion. She looked at all of us in confusion. “What in Oblivion is going on? And why are you wearing Thieves Guild armour?” She asked. “Please, mother, never mention Oblivion ever again.” I groaned, and Brynjolf nodded in agreement. I introduced him to her, and kicked open the chest. “40,000 septims, my dear parents. All yours for the trouble of raising a shit of a kid.” I declared, as their jaws dropped. “Talviel, this isn’t a very nice joke to be playing on your folks.” My father warned. “It isn’t a joke, Sir.” Brynjolf said quietly. “Let’s just say your daughter helped pull off the biggest heist in the history of the Guild this generation, and saved my life.”
“We don’t want to know.” Chimed my parents in unison, their usual response since I was a kid whenever I brought up the Guild. “Talos almighty, what on earth are we going to do with all this coin?” My mother asked, looking as if she was about to faint. “Buy Riftweald Manor?” My father said hopefully. “Unfortunately Sir, that’s Guild property, but I know Maven has a spare manor not too far from here that’s just begging to be sold.” Brynjolf smiled. My father’s eyes narrowed. “You know, for a master thief, you sure are well spoken.” He said to Brynjolf. We all chortled, and my mother stoked the fireplace while my father brought round some cheese and cured meats while gesturing for us to sit. Brynjolf looked uncertain but I pushed him into a chair.
A couple of hours of small talk later, Brynjolf and I made our way back to the cistern to gather all the senior members together in the vault. “So it’s true.” Sapphire said, stunned. “We’re fucking rich.” “You could say that.” Delvin muttered. Brynjolf presented his plan on how to divide the coin among the Guild branches across Tamriel, and after a bit of arguing we finally came to an agreement. “Raven Rock needs it most, that’s our latest branch and we don’t even have headquarters there.” Delvin said, and we all agreed.
“Say, Delvin, what was in that letter you had me pass to Glover?” Brynjolf asked. Delvin looked embarrassed and cleared his throat. “Well, I didn’t want to make an announcement until everything was in the clear, but I suppose now’s the time. I’m resigning from the Riften branch to go work with my brother in Raven Rock.” He announced. We all gasped. “I cannot believe my ears.” Vex spluttered. “After all these years, you’re leaving us?“ “I’m not leaving the Guild my little Vex, just Riften. For now, anyway.” “Well, who’s taking over your job then?” Sapphire demanded, clearly as shocked as the rest of us. “That, I leave to all of you to decide. We senior members all know the trade, we’ve had our field time, and we’re responsible. I’d trust any one of you to make that decision.”
We glanced at each other uncertainly. “I’ll do it.” Rune finally said, breaking the silence. “I’m getting too old to be working the field, and to be honest, I’m tired of it. I’ll take over from Delvin.” We all breathed a sigh of relief, worrying just a moment ago that this would become a heated argument. “All in favour say aye.” Brynjolf said. “Aye.” We all chimed. “Well, that settles that.” Delvin sighed. “I leave for Soltsheim by the end of next month, once I’ve wrapped up my final business here. Try not to miss me too much.” We all groaned. “Who’s going to sit around the Flagon all day to keep me company now?” Vex moaned, clearly miffed by the sudden news. “Well, Rune is, obviously.” Brynjolf said, rolling his eyes. “Nuh-uh boss. You know I’ve never been one for drink. If you don’t mind, I’ll take the desk in the cistern.” “All yours, lad.” Brynjolf agreed.
“Now anyone else want to make any more shocking announcements? Because now’s the time.” Vex demanded. We all shook our heads, then left the vault before locking it firmly behind us again. “Delvin and Rune, I want this exchange to go as smoothly as possible, so do whatever training you need to, and we’ll make an announcement to the rest of the Guild once that’s done.” Brynjolf said, clapping the two of them on the back. “You got it, boss.” Rune said, seemingly astounded by his sudden promotion. Everyone dispersed, mainly to the Flagon, leaving Brynjolf and I standing alone.
“So…what do we do now?” I asked, meeting his eye. “Riftweald Manor could be fun.” I suggested. He smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. “Sorry lass, I’ve got important things to do. We’ll speak another time.”
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amilliontinywraiths · 4 years
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blog
Dear xx,
I began thinking of writing this in my head as an email — does anyone do that? Begin writing something in their head and then either let it come to completion and float away or frantically write it down? Of course people do that, that’s writing. Anyways, I was thinking of writing an email reflecting on my time at home the last six days but I did not have anyone in particular I wanted to send it to, and as it went on it seemed it was destined to be a blog post or a very long group message. Its intention is to go out to whoever gives a shit.
I’ve been at my parents house since the 22nd when I arrived so exhausted and was immediately picked up by three extremely energetic people (my father and two sisters). I was truly half awake and they took me to ramen and then to surprise my mom at her job (retail, so pre-christmas was shitty). Since then i’ve been a zombie; I wake up around 9am and drink two cups of coffee, read, eat some eggs and toast, and continue on doing nearly nothing until 5pm. I feel like a retiree.
My birthday and the holidays went by quickly, but I am v grateful to my family and small group of friends here that I celebrated with. On my birthday my family + Noah went to this very hip downtown hotel/bar and we played pool for two hours while I snuck my little sister whiskey neats. We saw some people from high school we very much so enjoy and some we very much so do not. I haven’t hung out with my sister alone in a long time so its been good to see her and relish in the fact that we are both adults now, and bond of the mutual exhaustion of our parents. Afterwards we went to a party at gloria’s house where Vivian was crowned the ‘Christmas queen.’ A very nice mom at the party showed me William steig’s children’s book Amos and Boris; I read it alone on the couch while Noah and my sister did strange Christmas-themed karaoke and shed tiny little tears.
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Christmas was dramatic and tense, an annual and painful occurrence.
Yesterday I had the entire home to myself; my dad was working until 5 and my sister until 10 and my mother until 8. It was freeing! I’ve been more or less sitting alone these last few days but someone was always in proximity. My father has a tendency to but in at moments when I am really enjoying my book, and tell a story I’ve head ten times already. If I lived here perhaps it would be annoying but since I only see my dad every so often I willingly listen to stories of when he was a young man living in LA and things were not better, but warmer and different.
On the topic of books! I’ve read so much since I have been home. I brought with me the new narrative anthology, Writers Who Love Too Much and this condensed history of Ireland. I was ’rehabbing’ the Irish and British History section at work, and about an hour into alphabetizing I realized I do not know anything about the so-called homeland’s history. So I bought this little thing and told myself I’d read it (I haven’t started). For christmas, my mom gifted me Nothing to see here by Kevin Wilson, Jia tolentino’s essay collection, and also Lydia Davis’ essay collection. I finished nothing to see here on Christmas Day, and cannot praise it enough!!! I’ve been slowly reading the Davis and tolentino essays on and off. Lydia’s is much more formal and, so far, diving into the structure of writing (poetry, nonfiction, fiction) and influences she began with as a young writer. Jia’s is much more like, the internet is bad!!!!!!!!!!!
I went to the public library the day after Christmas—right after the DMV—and was amazed at how GREAT it was. This was the library I frequented as a kid, and of course I was looking in the children and young adult sections at that point, but I was never blown away by the selection (as much as one can be blown away by a book selection at eight years old). I remember having to put things on hold and waiting forever. My dad told me a couple years back they put a tax on the platte county ballot just for the library, and it passed!! So I went in there and got three brand new books that I’ve been eyeing at work: convienence store woman, human relations & other difficulties, and make it scream make it burn. I’m hurrying to finish human relations before I leave tomorrow. Its very very British.
Last night I saw Little women, which of course, was devastating. Its the first period piece—reconstruction era—I’ve seen that writes people as relatable, normal humans. The sisters wrestled and acted and their mother was KIND. not weird and strict and tense à la laura engels wildler. I, of course, felt an affinity to Jo and a disdain towards Amy. General apathy towards meg, who was played by Emma Watson, who kept forgetting she was meant to play an American and would slip into fancy English draw. I probably cried for an hour straight, those silent movie theater tears that gather at your lips and you are too resistant to wipe away as the person next to you will see you crying (weakness!). now I am slightly upset that I did not have the chance to wear such elegant shawls and ride in a carriage with timothee clementine. alas.
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My fingers keep slipping on the keys, likely because I doubled down and moisturized my entire body. I shaved everything too, which I haven’t done in literal months (expo, maybe). I'm a wet seal pup.
I am getting hungry, and think I will go have that second cup of coffee and maybe some eggs and hashbrowns. Thank you for letting me ramble at you. Miss you.
From my screen to yours,
Gabi
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twisted-broth · 7 years
Text
Jealousy Pt. 3- Lafayette x Reader
Reader gender: female
Warnings: Swearing, family arguments, fluff
A/N: It’s here! The last part in the series! While this is the last part, I’m a little tempted to do an extra part where I rewrite the first part in Laf’s POV. However, unless you guys actually tell me you want that, it will be a long time coming. Anyways, back to the actual story.
Part One Part Two
When you woke up, you nearly screamed when your realized what day it was. Today, you would officially be Y/N de Lafayette. You had woken up at about seven with your wedding starting at five. You internally groaned, knowing the sisters would be here any minute to pick up you and your sister.
However, the adrenaline of the situation overcame your annoyance and you quickly hopped out of the bed that Lafayette had left previously. You got changed into a dress with a loosely tied corset that you knew would be tightened later.
You went down to the kitchen to grab breakfast and was greeted by your beaming sister.
“Y/N!” She screeched, choking you in one of her infamous hugs. “Are you ready? Gilbert left an hour ago, he said to tell you he love you, and you got a letter from mom.”
She held out a expensive looking envelope for you to take. You gingerly took it, scared of what it might say. After ungracefully ripping open the envelope, you took out the piece of parchment and smiled at the once familiar handwriting.
‘Dearest Y/N,’ it read, ‘I hope this letter finds you in good health. I don't believe I will be able to congratulate you enough for finding a man you truly love. My marriage with your father was arranged and, despite our acting, we despise each other. However, it gained us more money so we stayed together. I regret not being as brave as you and now being stuck with someone I do not love. I wish I could be there to congratulate you myself but, your father forbids it. I am glad to hear S/N made it. She may also have an arranged marriage but, she and her fiancé do not seem to mind each other. Remember that I love you and I sincerely hope your marriage is successful and brings you much happiness.’
You had to wipe a tear or two from your face when you finished reading the letter. It had never really occurred to you just how much you missed your mother. She was always there for you when your father was cruel to you. How could you not miss a woman as amazing as her?
“I miss her.” You sighed.
“I know, sis, I know.” S/N wrapped her arms around your shoulders and gave you a reassuring squeeze.
You heard a knock at the door and quickly went to answer it, knowing it to be Angelica and Eliza. The girls bombarded you with hugs the moment you opened the door.
“What are you crying about, girl? There's no crying on the wedding day!” Angelica exclaimed, wiping away the remainder of your tears with her thumb.
“Sorry I just got a letter from my mom.” You laughed.
“Well come on, we've got work to do!” Eliza grabbed you by the hand and dragged you out of the house with Angelica and S/N in tow.
Gilbert was getting ready at the Hamilton household so you would be working at Angelica’s.
You walked past John, who was reading a book in the couch, and continued until you got to Angelica's room. The girls pushed you into a chair and swarmed you, gripping all sorts of different hair and makeup products.
Better make yourself comfy, Y/N, you're gonna be there for a while.
____
 When they had finally finished, they turned you away from the mirror and helped you into your wedding dress.
“Ready to see?” Eliza asked excitedly.
“I've been ready for the three hours you've been doing it.” You sighed.
They laughed lightly and guided you to a mirror. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight before you.
Your hair was done in a braid crown whilst the remainder of it cascaded down your shoulders in soft curls. Small white flowers peeked through the hairs that were circling your head with one large white rose making its appearance above your right ear.
Your makeup was light, but still breathtaking. Any and all blemishes were covered with a layer of foundation and powder. Pale pink dusted your cheeks. Solid black lines came together to make a sharp wing at the edges of both eyes with white eyeshadow contradicting it. Intense red lipstick lined your full lips.
All that, paired with your gorgeous dress, was enough to take your breath away.
You turned and gripped each girl in a bone-crushing hug.
“It's amazing. Thank you guys.” You breathed.
After all the other girls were finished with makeup and hair, it was nearing four. You shook with nerves as you all loaded into a carriage to take you to the wedding venue.
“It's going to be okay. Don't worry.” Angelica assured you, softly rubbing your knee.
“But what if a tornado comes? What if the food gives everyone diarrhea? What if Gilbert hates my dress? Oh god, what if my dad shows up?” Anxiety overwhelmed you as you listed off all the possible things that could go wrong.
“Y/N M/N L/N, as your bridesmaids, S/N, Angelica and I are going to make this the best wedding you could possibly have. I guarantee you that none of those things will happen.” You smiled at Eliza's promise.
“Thanks, I'm just-” you took a shaky breath, “I'm just really nervous.”
“We can tell.” S/N laughed.
You exited the carriage and entered the small building in front of the place where the wedding would actually be held. Alexander waited for you there, as he would be the one walking you down the aisle.
After waiting for a few moments in eager anticipation, you were informed that the groomsmen and groom had finished walking up and you were clear to go.
You nervously watched Eliza exit through the back door. Applause could be heard as she walked down the aisle. Next came S/N. Sweat seeped from your plans into the stems of your bouquet as your time grew closer. Finally, Angelica left leaving just you and Alex.
“Ready?” He asked, holding out his arm.
“As ready as I'll ever be.” You responded, linking his arm with yours.
“Wouldn't it be better if your real father walked you down the aisle?” A voice you hadn't heard in a long time spoke from behind you.
You whipped around, terrified of what you would find.
“Dad?” You asked in astonishment. “Why are you here? Get the fuck away from me! You ruined part of my life I'm not going to let you ruin today!”
“Y/N, calm down. I came to congratulate you.” He took a step forward.
“Bullshit! Stay away from me!” You took a step back, running into the door you were about to walk through previously.
You dad's arms were in the air as he took another small step in an attempt to get to you.
“You heard her, back off!” Alexander demanded as he stepped in front of you.
“Please, I-” he was cut off by the doors opening, which you quickly stepped away from.
Gilbert stepped through, quickly taking on the surroundings of Alexander blocking you from the man Gilbert recognized as your father.
“You're that little brat that Y/N threw a hissy fit about three years ago! This is- of course. Why am I surprised that you would marry someone like this.” Your father directed his last comment at you.
Gilbert hurried to your side as you stepped out from behind Alex. “Mi amour,” he gripped your arm, “are you alright? I heard the yelling. Do I need to get him out of here?”
“No, Gil, it's okay. Let me just talk to him for a moment. Alone, if you would.” You pleaded.
Alex and Gilbert reluctantly left the room, shooting daggers at your father as they passed.
“Y/N, please hear me out. I just-”
“Shut up.” You snapped, “Look, I know you didn't just come here to kiss my cheek and call it a day. I know you're still pissed because you told mom that you guys wouldn't come except, you're here and she's not, meaning you lied to her. So you must have come with a reason that she wouldn't approve of.”
He let out a half hearted laugh, “Well done Sherlock. Yes, I suppose I'm not here with the best intentions. At least, not to you. I came to ask you to change your mind. When I received your invitation, I realized how much I missed you.” He put a hand on your arm which you retracted immediately.
“You never cared about me. You just wanted me so I could marry someone rich. And once your slow mind works it out that ‘wow this guy actually has a lot of money’, you'll be begging me to come back because you are just that desperate. But you're not my family anymore so you can just leave.” You allowed all your pent up rage to shine through in your small rant, shocking your father.
He sighed in defeat, “Fine. I'll leave you alone and never speak to you again if that's what you want. Just say the word.”
“Get the fuck out.” You growled.
Without another word, he left the building just in time for Alex to enter again.
“Sorry to barge in. Laf got worried and- oh he left.”
“Yeah. So, are we ready to go now?” You asked, trying to push any leftover thoughts of your dad out of your mind.
“If you are.” He held out his arm once again.
Nodding, you took his arm and opened the doors.
People stood and clapped when they saw you finally come out. An old lady sitting at a piano started playing a classical piece you had picked out. You looked to the end of the aisle to see Gilbert, looking worried but still smiling. When you eventually reached the end of the aisle, the music stopped, everyone sa down and Alex gave you a tight hug before going to stand in his spot behind Gilbert.
“You look beautiful.” Gilbert whispered, taking your hands in his.
“You literally saw me about ten minutes ago.” You laughed.
“That may be true, but that still doesn’t change facts.”
The priest cleared his throat for attention before you could respond. However, you couldn’t care less about what he had to say. He talked for what seemed like hours while all you thought about was how lucky you were.
You didn’t realize it was time for vows until Gilbert started talking. “Y/N,” he said, “my love, the moment I laid eyes on you at that ball is a moment I’ll never forget. You changed my life with that one glance. As John or Alex or Herc can tell you, I was jealous of Lee before I even knew your name. Just from watching you I could tell that a man like Lee wasn’t worthy of you. God, I’m sounding stalkerish again, aren’t I?”
You gave a light laugh, shaking your head.
“That’s good. The year we spent together before I went off to war was the best year of my life. Knowing I would get to wake up and see your face every morning made me almost as happy as actually seeing you. Your smile makes my day and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life seeing it.”
“Gilbert,” You started, “you saved my life that night at the ball. You were the reason I yelled at Lee and managed to get my life back. And when my father disowned me and you took me in, oh I can’t thank you enough for that. You are one of the kindest men I’ve ever met and I am elated that I have the honor of spending the rest of my life with you rather than a coward that I don’t love. You are truly the highlight of my life. I love you, Gilbert.”
“I love you, too, Y/N.” He sighed.
“The rings?” The priest called.
Lafayette’s little sister walked hurriedly down the aisle, holding a cushion adorned with two rings. You each took a ring and she quickly made her way back to her seat.
“Do you, Marie- Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, take Y/N M/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and to hold, to cherish, until death do you part?”
Gilbert slipped the ring onto your finger, “I do.” he whispered, his eyes nearly flooding with tears.
“And do you, Y/N M/N L/N, take Marie- Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to hold, to cherish, until death do you part?”
You put the ring on Gilbert’s finger, a tear of your own sliding down your cheek, “I do.”
“Then, without further ado, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
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