#britaincest

Best CMV that I’ve ever seen and I’ve watched it a million times. Watch and love it. Thank you Kami and Tobo!

(My lame contribution to the ScotEng fantom. Now brain, please let me sleep)

Beaten in, Scotland just walked to the altar and faced England. “I’ll kill you for this.”England laughed. “Perhaps one day. But you belong to me now. I have own this feud.” He cupped Scotland’s cheek. “Don’t cry brother, I won’t be a cruel husband.” But his smirk said everything different. “Now, let’s go take our vows.”

(AKA, That Scotland/England drabble I posted music for) ========== It was like a slap to the face. Just a simple sentence. A confession. I should've known. Arthur blinked, as if realizing what he'd just said. "Alistair..." I simply shook my head, shoving my hands in my pockets as I turned away. "Nay, 'tis fine." The hell was I thinking? It wasn't fine. It wouldn't be fine again. "I'll just… Go home or somethin'." 〜 The Scot lowered the bottle and ran a hand though his hair. He still wasn't used to the drink, which was good. As much as he's drank of his preferred whiskey, it wouldn't be any help. He wanted to forget, even for a little while. A growl escaped as he moved to finish the vodka, still not far enough gone. He knew he should've picked up on the signs, the little things that would've spared them the argument. He should've known the obnoxious American was preferred over him. /Anyone/ was preferred over him, it seemed. Alistair had long since accepted this. That whoever had the nerve to stay with him deserved better. A choked sob escaped as he tossed the bottle away, pulling his legs closer as he reached for another. He'd known it was wrong too, his own brother. Where had it come from anyway? He didn't know, nor would he be able to figure it out, as he was starting to slip away. Just as he wanted to. The red head couldn't tell anyone how long had passed since then, as he'd spent the time drinking, trying to choke down some food and dealing with vague wisps of hangovers. He didn't care anymore either way. Without a second thought, he downed the new bottle, numbing his pain for the rest of the night, only to start the process again the next morning. Until someone decided to come stop him, which he highly doubted but wished for to happen. Alistair had also long since accepted that no one cared enough to check in on him. He just fucked shit up no matter what happened.

That's why I call the ship ScotEng~

Genres: Romance, drama,