#i have it set a few days after the rollo stuff. they are not very happy with one another lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 7 months

Text

ch. 6 – tyr (to teach)

summary: life apart

warnings: pregnancy stuff, angst (really? omg that's so crazy)

tagged: @levithestripper @demon-of-the-ancient-world

general masterlist | series masterlist

Athelstan

“Women are as fickle as the moon.” Ragnar had told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and smiling sympathetically. Athelstan had wanted to protest. What did Ragnar know of Alethia?

When Alethia had not come to the encampment of the Northmen, Bjorn, Rollo, Lagertha, Torstein - even Floki - had offered their sympathies, said a few kind words and assured him that it was not his fault.

Athelstan knew it was. He did not know why Alethia had not come after him, had perhaps chosen to stay in Wessex, with Ecbert, but he did know that he had left her behind, left in a rush to be reunited with his friends.

His family.

He would not blame her if she did not forgive him. Athelstan thought he could have, but he was Athelstan. There were not many people who thought like him, and Alethia had anger written into her very bones.

She would never forgive him.

The return to Kattegat felt flat without her. For months, Athelstan had thought of what to do here with Alethia, after showing her around and introducing her to everyone. He knew she would have gotten along well with Hvitserk and Ubbe, taking her time to play with them when Aslaug could not and Ragnar was too busy to. She would have known some remedy or another to soothe Ivar.

He could have shown her his longhouse, the sketches he kept hidden away. She would have understood. Perhaps Athelstan could have shown Alethia the forests, climbed the cliffs surrounding the bay. He knew she would have liked to swim at the shores, to ride out into the lands surrounding Kattegat, to spend a few days doing nothing at all.

Perhaps he would have spent some of them kissing her.

Absentmindedly, Athelstan held a hand out to Lagertha, helping her onto the docks. She only gave him another pitied smile.

“That girl has no idea what she was giving up.” She said quietly.

“I should have stayed.” Athelstan replied, voice thick. “She never would have… She is loyal, like you.”

“I left as well.” Lagertha reminded.

“That was different.”

“It was.” She nodded. “Perhaps your… perhaps she was simply afraid.”

“Then I should have given her courage!” Athelstan protested. He felt like a child, like he always did with Lagertha.

“There will be another.”

Athelstan stayed quiet for a moment, anger making his skin burn. You know that is not true, Lagertha. You of all people.

He watched her leave, with her shieldmaidens, watched as the men carried the spoils of war to the great hall, watched the celebrations and numbly drank from his cup. Being a monk should have protected him from this. It was precisely why he had sworn a vow. So something like this would not happen.

Then again, when had his vow ever saved him from anything?

Athelstan was about to stand and leave when Aslaug sat down next to him, away from the music and the loud crowd. She gave him a rare smile.

“Princess.” Athelstan said quickly.

“Priest.” Aslaug mused, carefully adjusting Ivar in her arms. Athelstan had never told her how he admired her for her strength, for saving Ivar from the forest and the foxes. Alethia would have said that it was simply a mother’s love, and smiled at him for not understanding that kind of courage. Athelstan stayed quiet because he did not think it was his place.

“You are sad.” Aslaug observed. “About your woman.”

“How fast word spreads.”

“So it is true.” Aslaug replied. “I did not hear it from the mouth of Ragnar.”

“Who then?” Athelstan asked.

“The Gods. I dreamt of her, you know.” Aslaug told him. Athelstan paused, setting down his mead.

“Truly?”

“A girl in a dark forest.” Aslaug mused. “A shieldmaiden on a battlefield, surrounded by the dead. Her friends, her children, her lover. She is the storm, priest, and you the lone sailor. She deals in absolutes, in death and life. They are the only two things she can give. But you are willing to take both from her, aren’t you?”

The silence between them was uncomfortably quiet, but then, Aslaug laughed. “But since when do you believe in the Gods, priest?”

When it came to Alethia, Athelstan was ready to believe just about anything.

He only gave Aslaug a forced smile, and took another sip of his mead, until his world began to spin.

In the months to come, Aslaug was not the only one haunted by Alethia. Athelstan dreamt of her, the night he returned and many others.

It was always the same, even after more than half a year of his return, in the deepest of winters.

Athelstan opened his eyes to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the walls. It was warm, and specks of dust danced in the light. Gone were the heavy furs of winter, gone the cold.

Summer had returned to Kattegat. He was not sure why he had not left with the others to raid, only that it was right he had remained.

He turned to his right, and there was his wife, still peacefully sleeping. Athelstan smiled, slipping out of bed quietly so that he would not wake her. From the longhouse, it was only a few steps to the shore of their hidden bay, where she loved to swim.

Athelstan had chosen the house for Alethia the day they’d returned to Kattegat together. He thought that she knew, the information hidden in her teasing smiles.

He prayed for her happiness that morning, just like every other, before he thanked God for his.

The songbirds chirped, and somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed. One of Alethia’s cats brushed by his legs, and Athelstan petted it absentmindedly. It purred, languishing in the rising sun and under his touch, and Athelstan picked it up, setting it down in his lap.

“You’re getting fat.” he mused under his breath, and the cat purred in agreement. “My wife is much too kind to you. You know what she said? She said that you are our health insurance, and that is why she spoils you so. Though I am not sure how you’ll hunt rats when all you do is beg for pets all day.”

Alethia had named the cat ‘Garfield’, a word which Athelstan could barely pronounce, but as the ginger tabby grew more and more spoilt, Alethia’s grin over its name grew wider and wider, which was reason enough for Athelstan to keep to the name.

Eventually, Athelstan returned to the longhouse, washing his hands before he slipped back under the covers.

Alethia complained in her sleep, but still rolled right into his arms. Automatically, his hands went to the small but growing bump on her stomach, and Athelstan smiled.

Right. That was why he’d stayed.

“Husband.” Alethia mumbled teasingly, sleep thickening her voice. “Can’t let your poor wife sleep, huh?”

“Do you wish to lounge in bed all day?” Athelstan asked in return. “You know my conscience does not allow it.”

“Workaholic.” Alethia replied, and Athelstan remembered precisely how she’d taught him the word when she’d first come to England. He knew those months as if they had been yesterday, even if, now, they were years behind.

Gently, he cupped her face, kissing her. Alethia returned the kiss with a fervor that still made Athelstan blush like a monk, languid and slow, throwing her leg over his waist and trying to get impossibly close to him.

“How is the little one?” he asked after a while.

“Wonderful, I’d say. Its mother however… she could use some care.” Alethia replied jokingly, and Athelstan pressed a few light kisses against her neck, to which Alethia giggled like a girl. His hands combed through her hair gently, scratching her scalp until Alethia was practically purring like their cat.

“Gyda will be complaining that she has to come back home. She likes sleeping over with Sigurd and Ivar far too much.” Alethia mumbled.

“Gyda also loves Garfield.” Athelstan reminded. “She is the reason the poor cat has to take baths.”

“One day, she’ll realise that cats don’t like water.” Alethia laughed, and Athelstan joined her. The thought of their daughter reminded him that there were reasons to get out of bed after all.

He threw the covers back, starting to get dressed. Alethia was still in bed, eyes closed and hair splayed out like a halo. A small smile was playing on her lips. Athelstan turned his back, washing his hands again before he grabbed his jacket from the cabinet.

Suddenly, Alethia caught his wrist.

“What is-” Athelstan began.

“You left me behind.” Alethia said, eyes filling with tears. “You left me behind!”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, Alethia, my love, I am so sorry.”

“Find me. Swear you’ll find me!”

Athelstan nodded, pulling her into his arms. She smelled of lavender and soap, and a hint of rain, like always, but to his horror, the smell was already beginning to fade. He held her tighter, as if that would stop her from disappearing. She was slipping through his fingers. He needed to-

“Find me.” Alethia whispered. “Find me, or all your sins will have been for nothing.”

Athelstan awoke with a start, a pounding headache beginning to drill his head, and the screams of Ivar doing nothing to soothe the pain. His heart was pounding in his chest, as if he had just come out of battle, and his mouth was so dry he swore ha hadn’t had anything to drink in months.

With a groan, Athelstan pulled himself up from the edge of the table in search of water. Not long after he found it, Ragnar found him, staring at Athelstan with a smirk so amused that Athelstan would have liked to wipe it off of him very much.

“What?” Athelstan groaned, his world still spinning a little. Foggily, he began to remember that Torstein had challenged him to a drinking game and Athelstan had, for unknown reasons, accepted.

“You look like one of us.”

“Like a Viking?”

“Like a lovesick, hungover fool.”

“I am not lovesick, nor am I hungover.” Athelstan lied.

“The headache will pass,” Ragnar observed in that acutely unnerving manner he possessed. “The ailment of your heart will not.”

Little shit.

“Thank you, Ragnar. Helpful, as always.” Athelstan chewed out, and he swore his jaw clicked each time he spoke.

“Come, we must train.” Ragnar said, and Athelstan let out a groan louder than he had intended.

“Do you not want to?” Ragnar asked.

“It is cold.” Athelstan pointed out.

“Ah, yes, the cold. But how else are you going to steal your bride in the coming summer?” Ragnar prodded. Athelstan could only stare blankly, before a somewhat smart thought came to mind.

“She’s not a woman that can be stolen.” Athelstan replied rather quietly, and he knew that it was true. For one, he could not steal Alethia because she was simply more skilled than him. And then, Athelstan knew that it was gentleness and love which she craved, not strength. Ragnar would not understand, for it had been the reason he had lost Lagertha.

“Then let us hope she does not loosen a bear on you.” Ragnar replied, clapping Athelstan on the back. Still, Ragnar dragged him into the cold. Athelstan heard Ivar wail again, the feeling that Ragnar was leaving the hall because of his child creeping up on him uncomfortably. Athelstan promised himself that he would help Ivar with his pains when he returned to the Great Hall.

Surely there was something Alethia had once mentioned in passign that could help. Were she here, she would have tried.

Alethia

Eadith’s labor began during a blizzard so terrible that one of the grain stores had broken under the pressure of the snow and wind. Still, Alethia had pulled herself from the humble abode she shared with a few other unmarried women and dragged herself through half the village, until, finally, a panting Heahmund raised his fist to knock on the door next to her.

It was Finnian who ripped open the door, face pale and hands shaking with fear. Eadith’s groans of pains were to be heard from the background, and Alethia pushed her meagre supplies into Finnian’s hands.

Women squat in fucking fields to have babies and survive. she told herself, but it was a sorry excuse for not having the right medicine for Eadith. It was the middle of winter, and yet, Alethia could not help but feel that she had not done enough.

“Eadith?” Alethia asked, crossing the room. Heahmund was pressed against the door uncomfortably, but Alethia had no time to take care of a soldier uncomfortable with life.

There was a groan from the back end of the house, where Eadith had lied down. Alethia pushed past a nervous, fidgeting Finnian, dropping her things at Eadith’s side.

“Breathe.” Alethia huffed, and Eadith nodded, vigorously trying to follow her advice through the pain. Alethia waved over Finnian, who stepped towards his wife gingerly.

“Hold her hand.” Alethia said.

Finnian paused. “It is not-“

“What? Common? Who cares, get over here and comfort your wife for Christ’s sake.” Alethia replied, cutting him off. Finnian hesitantly looked over to Heahmund, before he seemingly made a choice and sat on Eadith’s other side, grabbing her hand gently.

“Am I alright?” Eadith asked nervously. A sheen layer of sweet covered her forehead, and she was somewhat pale, but other than that…

“What do you think?” Alethia replied gently, shuffling through her supplies and pulling out a small piece of leather.

“Well, it hurts but…” Eadith groaned. “God, it hurts so much.”

“I know. Well, there’s a baby wanting to come into the world, so it will hurt, but I promise you, you are doing just fine. Amazingly, for a woman whose contractions are so close together.” Alethia assured.

“How many babies have you delivered, Hagar?” Eadith asked.

“Many.” Alethia lied smoothly, and that seemed to soothe Eadith’s nerves. Truth was, Alethia was the only one who came close to knowing how to help Eadith, apart from the older women in the village.

Alethia turned to Heahmund. “Go get Ethelfleda.” She snapped, referring to Eadith’s aunt, and the woman with the most children in the village. Carefully, she helped Eadith lean back, before she checked for dilation.

“You’re doing good.” Alethia assured, and Eadith nodded, her face red as she concentrated on her breathing. Alethia took her hand almost automatically. Eadith was barely a year younger than her, and yet, they were immature in such different ways.

Alethia wished she could take her pain away. Eadith did not deserve it, not when she was so good, so kind. But, Alethia supposed, this was part of what Eadith wanted. She shuddered at the thought of going through it herself.

Almost, she would have had to.

Ethelfleda burst into the house with a sharp gust of cold wind, snow still dancing outside. Heahmund pressed himself back into the wall by the entrance, but to his credit, the young priest stayed.

Alethia moved to make space for Ethelfleda, who gave her an acknowledging nod. The older woman’s look at Alethia’s supplies told her that they were satisfactory.

Like Alethia, Ethelfleda checked for dilation, before she helped Eadith count her contractions.

“You need to push.” Ethelfleda finally announced, and Alethia swallowed her fear. Eadith was going to be alright.

“Here.” Alethia said, offering Eadith a helping hand while Ethelfleda went through her supplies, pushing a thick band of leather into Eadith’s mouth. It was meant to keep men from biting off their tongues during amputations, but Alethia supposed it would suffice.

She let Eadith squeeze her wrist until Alethia was sure there was no blood left, and prayed, prayed to the God Eadith believed in that she would stay alive.

Hours later, the child was finally there. Alethia smiled at Eadith, then Ethelfleda, who did not return the expression, instead focusing on Eadith.

“There is another. You have to push again.” Ethelfleda told Eadith.

“I can’t.” Eadith cried, tear-tracks on her face, hair stuck to her skin in exhaustion.

“You have to.” Alethia said, taking the baby from Ethelfleda’s arms. She gave it to Eadith, who smiled.

“A boy.” She whispered, her face lighting up. Alethia let her bask in the moment for a few seconds, before she forced her out of it again.

“There is another.” She said, echoing Ethelfleda. Eadith shook her head.

“I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Alethia said. Carefully, she took the boy out of Eadith’s hands, who tried to struggle against Alethia. Alethia handed Finnian the baby, helping him hold his son for the first time. There was a beaming look of pride on Finnian’s face as he held the baby, unable to say anything.

Alethia’s heart ached.

She returned to Eadith’s side.

“Listen to me. I know you’re tired, Eadith, but you have to fight that now. There is another baby, just as beautiful as your son. You have to push.”

“I’ll die. It hurts so much.” Eadith replied, her hands struggling to hold onto Alethia.

“God is good. You’ll live, so will your son.” Alethia said.

“What else is there?” Eadith whispered. “If there is only God, I am still afraid. He is a man, and I am not.”

“We are women, and this is your battlefield.” Alethia replied. “Behind you, there is an army. All of them have survived what you survived. They are your sisters, your mothers, your daughters. In front of you is the darkness. Do you see it, Eadith?”

“Yes.” Eadith pressed out.

“Does it scare you?”

“Like nothing else.”

“Good. You must face that now. Go through the darkness, and come out on the other side. Fight. We are all here for you.” Alethia told her. To her right, Ethelfleda smiled up at Eadith, before squeezing her ankle in encouragement. Eadith seemed to consider Alethia’s words for a moment, before she nodded.

“Alright.” She said.

“Push.” Ethelfleda encouraged again, and in that moment, Alethia knew she could have commanded an army. It was enough to give Eadith strength.

The second child came more quickly, and again, Alethia handed him to Eadith.

“Two sons!” Eadith exclaimed happily as both of them lied in her arms. She was pale, but as Alethia checked her again, she was not bleeding profusely, nor were there any worrying tears.

“She’s alright. Healthy.” Ethelfleda said, relieved. “She deserves it.”

It is not about deserving. Alethia thought to herself, but she only nodded.

“What shall we name them?” Finnian asked Eadith.

“Jon.” Alethia blurted out before she could stop herself.

Eadith smiled. “John and Godwin.” She whispered. Heahmund, who had stayed closeby for the entire process stepped closer, quickly christening the children.

It was winter, and from the way Ethelfleda’s lips pressed together, Alethia knew the older woman did not think the two boys would make it very far.

…

By Easter, both boys were alive. Alethia helped Eadith where she could, when she did not attend to Baldwin’s bad leg or Clothilda, the little girl that was slowly losing her vision. Ethelfleda thought that she would die, too, but Alethia refused to accept that.

Her days were spent between Eadith’s house, and Clothilda’s, where she tried her best to find something the girl could do blind. She knew trying to have her work in the fields would only end in futility, and so would most of the other menial tasks in the village.

Which was how Alethia found herself speaking with Heahmund.

She had avoided the priest for a reason. He was unnerving, dangerous, and Alethia thought that he knew she did not truly believe in God.

“A nunnery?” Heahmund asked, his brows drawing together.

“Somewhere in the country where she’ll be safe from the Mercian war and the raids of the Northmen. Clothilda will never be able to work a field or herd sheep or know her way around cows properly. For all her life, the people around her will have to help her to find things, make sure she will not injure herself. What if a famine befalls the land? She’ll be the first they set out.” Alethia replied.

“Is that what you think?”

“She is the oldest of five, but she is a girl. Her father sees her as a burden. But, Clothilda is a smart girl. She’s seven years old and understands far more of the world than her peers. In a nunnery, she could find her place. You know it, and you could find her a new home.”

“What do her parents think of it?” Heahmund asked, sharpening the blade of his sword carefully.

“I have not asked them.” Alethia admitted. “I have only spoken to Clothilda.”

“I see what you do here.” Heahmund replied.

“And what is that?”

“You try to save everyone. God will save us all, you do know that, right?”

“At some point, yes.” Alethia replied rather dryly. “But he’s a little busy right now. So many poor Mercian souls.”

A smile tugged at Heahmund’s mouth as he heard her joke. Then, he regained control.

“I shall consider your words.” He promised.

“Good.”

“In return, you have to teach me.”

“Teach you what?” Alethia asked.

“That which you have kept from us. I know you have secrets. I would like to know whatever you are hiding. Did your late husband gift you that pretty knife of yours, or did you steal that yourself?”

“Are you calling me a thief?” Alethia snapped.

“Only a liar.” Heahmund replied calmly. He was right, Alethia knew that, but she could not admit it plainly.

“I’ll teach you.” She promised.

“Good. We will begin after Easter.” Heahmund said. “Good day, Hagar.”

Her late husband. She thought.

Jon. Athelstan.

One was her true late husband, the other a man she had lied to and about.

Alethia felt the guilt creep in like the cold, slowly but no less uncomfortable. It was then that she was forced to think about just how evilly she’d betrayed Jon. How long had it been after he died? Half a year? A year, perhaps? She’d already moved on, had not even forced herself to mourn.

She shook her head. No, she had mourned. She thought she still did. Jon was gone and Athelstan… he would not believed it had she told him, but he was easy to fall in love with. He was in Kattegat now, where he was free of Ecbert and the guilt of his God that haunted him here. Alethia hoped he was happy there. A part of her hoped that he would fall in love with some other woman, one that could love him as he deserved, and not one that was torn between people, times and worlds.

But it would have been wrong to tell herself that she did not hope he would come back. Of course she did. Eadith, Clothilda, Finnian, even Ethelfleda, they were all a sort of family here. These people in the village, they had taken her in, as the widow of a good Christian man.

Alethia had told them that she would leave, time and time again. None of them were thinking about that now. They were relying on her, with their aches and pains and bad legs and sore throats, and none of them were thinking about her leaving. Summer would come in a few months, and Alethia would go South. Her hair had grown back, her shoulder had healed, her scars had become more stark against her tan skin. She knew she looked even older than she had before.

Ecbert would recognize her if she shaved her head and disfigured her mouth. So would Athelstan. There was no use. Alethia knew she had to return to the villa, to Wessex, if she wanted to find the Northmen.

She loved the people in this village, there was no doubting that. But this was not her place. Alethia was meant for something bigger, and she did not think that because she was confident in her ability of fulfilling fate, but because she had been thrown around in some multiversal chaos she never otherwise would have believed in.

Alethia twirled her knife in her hands, looking back to where Heahmund had been. From the edge of the village, she could see Eadith and Finnian walking towards the fountain, and Ethelfleda guiding her children towards the church. The bells rung, and Alethia drew up her shoulders.

It was time for Easter mass.

***

Singapore was loud, hot and humid, the air heavy enough that if you came back home from holiday, you could have told you were home the moment you stepped into the airport. There was something about Alethia’s home that made it distinguishable from the rest of the world, a smell that told her just where she was.

But God, Singapore was busy as well. Alethia had gotten stuck somewhere near Orchard, on a Saturday, in a mall, and she swore that there were so many people she could barely breathe, let alone move. From the food court behind her, the smell of food made her stomach rumble, and yet, Alethia turned away, towards the escalators rolling into oblivion.

Now that she looked at them, they were kind of silly. Who came up with something like that?

Regardless, Alethia stepped onto the moving stairs, letting them transport her up until she made it to the next level. There’s a french café to her right.

‘Paul’s’, Alethia thought, the name dim in the back of her mind. ‘The place is called Paul’s. I used to go there with my mom. She bought me one of those overpriced croissants, but at least they were crispy like they’re supposed to be, and not soggy and full of grease. Once, I got a nutella crepe.

Alethia wasn’t sure why there was a lump in her throat. She just kept walking, and the brown logo over the doorway faded away. A few more turns, another hallway, and then, she stepped outside.

The street was buzzing, and Alethia was quick to cross it at a traffic light. A taxi driver stopped for her at the second road, and she raised her hand in a quick ‘thank you’ gesture. By the time she stood before the gates of the Botanical Gardens, sweat beaded her forehead.

Alethia plucked at the coat she was wearing. Why a coat? This was Singapore, not some cold, icy hellscape like the Wall, or, God forbid, Wessex in the winter.

She made a few more steps before she froze. Wessex. Singapore. The Wall. Alethia looked back up, and with a panic, she realized that the smell of home was gone. The heat was still there, and so was the greenery so typical to Botanical Gardens, but something wasn’t…

“Alethia?”

She turned around, and there stood Athelstan.

…right.

“Athelstan.” she breathed out. Each step she took towards him, the scenery changed.

Athelstan was gone again, but Alethia stood in front of a church, and she knew who waited inside. Behind her, there was a hearttree, the weeping face of an Old God carved into its bark.

The choice was simple. The Old Gods, or God. The North or Earth. Jon or Athelstan.

But the Hearttree was dying, it was so simple to see from the mold that climbed its roots. Sansa had turned out to be like that, and Jon was already dead. The church stood tall, and Athelstan was inside.

Alethia slipped into the cool dark. It was safe there, though the cross loomed from the altar.

“Child, why have you come here?” a voice asked. It belonged to Athelstan.

“I am not a child.”

“You are. A sweet summer child, a crone beyond her years.” Athelstan replied.

“I have come to… I have come to make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“I choose you, Athelstan. I am sorry.” Alethia whispered. Her words floated through the cool air, delicate whisps of nothing. The wind washed them away, and Alethia knew that they were meaningless. Athelstan wasn’t really there. There was nothing to truly confess.

Alethia walked towards the altar, too impatient to wait for Athelstan to appear.

“I am here.” Athelstan said, and Alethia turned. There he was, right in the first row, dressed in the robe of a priest with pious, folded hands. Even from where she stood, Alethia could see the scars of his crucifixion.

She touched his hands gently, like always. “I choose you.” she repeated, and Athelstan smiled.

“I knew you would.”

“You’re not real.”

“Then I am you.” Athelstan said. “Which means you always knew your answer, too.”

#vikings #history vikings #athelstan #alethia stahl #heorte til heorte #alethia x athelstan #athelstan x alethia #alestan #history vikings fanfic

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mercurygray · 2 years

Note

28 + 26 for Emma and Canute, lovely Merc? Juno xx

26: kissing the top of their head 28: feeling for each other in the dark

Went for a modern AU, because... I could?

He didn't mind the rain much.

It was five o'clock and pouring when the office exodus began, black-jacketed traders and lawyers streaming out onto the sidewalks to their hired cars or rideshares, cursing as raindrops hit tailored suits and expensive shoes landed in puddles and diver's watches faced the elements they had heretofore been carefully shielded from.

Canute merely watched the crowd to clear and enjoyed the sounds for a while.

It was well known that Mr. Svendson kept long hours - first one into the office and usually the last one out, carefully looking after a business empire that had taken him years to build. His father, who had started the modest company his son had taken public several years ago, would tell anyone who listened that it really was his son's genius that had landed them where they were today. Genius, maybe, but hard work, for certain - and long hours making sure everything was done just exactly as he wanted it.

The long hours, perhaps, were what had done his first marriage in, but then, his first wife had had dynastic ambitions too, and at the end of the day, there was really only room for one king in every castle, and Alfa Svendson wasn't ever going to let her plans be second to anything.

So they were divorced, and the boys were at boarding school for most of the year, and came to visit him in the City for a month during the summer and hide under their headphones and hoodies and pretend to be beyond entertaining. He'd spent a few years having a firm set up very casual lunch meetings with potential partners before he'd met Emma completely on accident.

An acquisition meeting, actually - a company they were buying out. She'd sat down at the other end of the table and refused to budge an inch on thier deal, smiling all the time, and he'd decided then and there that not only was he going to give her what she asked for but also dinner, that night, at a very nice restaurant downtown, alone.

The fact that they ended up going home in the same cab that night and then waking up all kinds of tangled together in his apartment the next day and two days later were texting was...immaterial. He'd bought the company, but he'd won her. That had been last year and the relationship showed no signs of slowing down. He still smiled, thinking about it. They were too alike, she and him - she understood where he wanted to take the company, and he knew her insight was always worth listening to. She was more of a silent partner, since the buy-out, a role that allowed her more time to stay at home with her boys and dig into the real nuts and bolts of what made the business go, and he loved her for it.

That was where he was going now, or would be, when the rain and the traffic cleared - home, to her. The boys would already be in bed, and maybe, just maybe, there would be time for an uninterrupted cuddle before she asked for details about the day's meetings and he would be forced to bring work home with him.

The brownstone was quiet, when he finally rolled in and threw his keys into the dish by the door, wet shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor. One of the things he'd always hated about living with Alfa was how clean she wanted everything - no trace whatsoever that people lived there. Emma kept art on the refrigerator, framed candid photographs of the boys everywhere. There was a pile of small shoes by the door, a leash for the dog - a family lived here. And he was a part of it.

Thunder crashed outside, the window shades lit up wild and white for a moment, and he climbed up the stairs half expecting to run into the dog, but Rollo, it seemed, was made of tougher stuff. He nudged her bedroom door open, mindful of the boys sleeping down the hall, and decided against turning the light on when he saw she was already in bed.

But something about the scene looked odd, and he squinted in the darkness until he figured out what the problem was - two little bodies, curled like puppies into their mother's side. Invaders. Well, he would try not to be too angry about it.

She turned over as he pressed a kiss to the back of her head, coming quickly out of sleep. "Shhh. They just settled."

"The storm?" She nodded silently. "I can sleep on the couch."

Thunder crashed outside again, and one of the boys twitched fitfully. "Mama?" Edward, the older, had woken up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "C'nute?"

"Shh, min musling, it's only me. Was the storm frightening?" Edward nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Was Mama going to make it better?" A bleary-eyed nod. "Maybe I can help," Canute said, removing his coat and making a little bit of room on his usual side of the bed to lie down. Edward cuddled close, feeling for him in the dark, happy he didn't have to share with his brother any more, and Canute rubbed his back the way he'd done when his own boys were small and something outside was too big or too frightening for them. "Shh, there."

There were many special rules with Emma's children. Taking care of them was a non-negotiable where Emma was concerned, that any man who got her also got two boys aged four and seven, and there wasn't going to be any debate about it. (It might have turned off other men; he thought it was rather charming, after ten years of Alfa's brand of motherhood.) He hadn't met them until they'd been dating for a while, though by that time he knew them quite well - that they loved dogs, that they were both allergic to dairy, that they were learning piano. That Alfred was too small to really remember his father, but Edward just big enough to miss him, or at least, know what death was, that it was true what Mama said, that he really wasn't coming back. Alfred, of course, did not care at all who Papa was as long as there was a ride on his shoulders in it for him, but Edward had taken more convincing, and he got angry, sometimes, that his brother seemed to forget so easily. He wasn't a good father, Emma had said, when it had first come up. He hadn't asked her to elaborate - she looked tired, even saying that much. But he was theirs, and that was worth something.

So this, too, was worth something, this moment of trust from Edward. Canute looked over at Emma and found her smiling at him over Alfred's cowlick, the same way she'd smiled over the wine at the first dinner and they'd discussed compensation and employee wellness programs and the future of the company she'd just sold him. Her hand reached out, caught his over the bodies of her sleeping children, and for a moment he merely enjoyed her touch, its meaning clear. Take care of what I love, and you will take care of me.

#i have written a thing #emma of normandy #canute of denmark #modern au #canute x emma #otp: mutual respect #mercurygraypresents

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wlfkssd · 3 years

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The Way You Flirt

based on a combination of prompts sent in by @issadoragreen <3

summary : aethelred comments on hvitserk’s flirting and they end up having sex in the maze in the gardens that surround rollo’s castle in frankia. (set in the When in Frankia au)

pairing : hvitserk x aethelred

words : 2,790

warnings : (a probably) poor attempt at SMUT in the latter half of the piece. aethelred giving, hvitserk receiving. fingering. butt stuff.

"The way you flirt is shameless." Aethelred admonishes, quietly, steely eyes piercing into Hvitserk beside him. Both know it has everything to do with the plump, dark red grape being held as daintly as possible between thumb and forefinger. It's an offering. From one prince to another. Whether or not Aethelred chooses to accept it; that's entirely to come.

Hvitserk laughs, gaze fixed upon the face close to his own. "You think this is shameless?" He asks, wasting no time in popping the small, round fruit into his own mouth and crushing it between his back teeth. "One day, I will take you to Uppsala. Then you will see what shameless is."

Nimble fingers pick another grape from the bunch on the large silver platter in front of them and offer it up. This time, Aethelred considers before he leans in, opening his mouth just enough to allow the fruit inside. His tongue is practiced at staying put, flat, and his expression holds nothing but indifference.

Yet. Hvitserk can see the way the Saxon's cheeks flush as rough digits pass the threshold of his warm, pink entrance. A flush that's just as deep as it had been when tongues found themselves locking in a battle as furious and seemingly ancient as that of their two cultures. A flush that Hvitserk knows spreads just as beautifully down, past Aethelred's collarbones and onto his chest.

The exchange is short lived in real time but, for the pair of them, moments like this last forever. And, when it's finally time for those fingers to withdraw, Hvitserk finds himself taking them both in, savouring whatever taste he can of the most forbidden fruit of all.

"Uppsala. What's that?" Their gazes fall from one another as Aethelred makes short work of the grape and leans across to pick up his cup of wine. He's really enjoying the Frankish vintage. Perhaps a few barrels will have to come home with him to Wessex in the new year. He drinks, still chewing.

"We travel there to make sacrifices to the Gods every nine years. My father never really talked about it, and I've only been there once, but it's a place where anything is possible." Hvitserk explains, tongue pressing into his cheek as it searches out the remnants of food, leftover from his last mouthful. "I could feed you as many grapes as I wanted there and nobody would care. You could feed me whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted."

That sounds far more like an offer not to be fulfilled in the future, but now, and along with the look Hvitserk's clear eyes give, it's fairly obvious that's the point.

"Whatever I wanted. Whenever I wanted to, hm?"

Understanding dawns as the two stare one another down. Yet, gone is the animosity that may once have pitted them against one another and Aethelred's throat bobs as he brings the chalice up to take another drink, swallowing almost audibly even in the crowded dining hall.

"Yes." Comes the reply and this time Hvitserk's tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as if in invitation. He blinks. He's holding his breath.

"Perhaps, then, we might meet in the gardens in an hour, Prince Hvitserk." The tone Aethelred takes is formal but there's a mischief in his heavy-set eyes. One that's lost as soon as he turns to make conversation with the diplomat to the other side of him.

***********

An hour later, roughly, of course, Rollo having kept his nephew a while to ask questions about his budding friendship with the prince from England, Hvitserk bolts down the side steps of the tower and into the gardens as promised. The sun has set and now the night air touches his face with a gentle kiss of cold; kinder than the frozen lake where he fell as a child in Kattegat.

"Aethelred?" He whispers, peering about as he takes a few steps forward. Arms bring his dark cloak in around him.

Beside the long shadow of the tallest tree in the grounds, the Saxon waits. His gaze is turned upwards, towards the moon and his figure is still as a statue. His shadow, too, is long, cast just as beautifully as nature intended upon the grass beneath both their feet.

Hvitserk approaches and comes to stand beside him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Blue eyes don't turn away from the shining orb, high in the dark sky and all Hvitserk can do is agree. "I sometimes wonder how many times you and I have gazed upon her, unaware of each other's existence."

"Her?"

It's now that Aethelred looks down, bringing his eyes and thoughts from the Heavens, allowing them to rest easily upon more Earthly delights. "The moon. She's a woman. A saintly one who sees every sin beneath her, committed under the veil of darkness, and says nothing to the rising sun that follows."

"I like-" Hvitserk is allowed no more than that as, whatever he might say is first stifled, pushed back down his throat and then, a second later, coaxed out in the form of a soft, short moan. Aethelred's mouth on his is divine; every time perfectly explaining the meaning of a miracle but without words. This near-silent exchange sees their hands, having learned and remembered one another's bodies, touching.

Aethelred lays warm palms to Hvitserk's cheeks, holding his face in a steady grasp as they kiss. It's surprising for the Saxon to initiate such a thing but Hvitserk won't stop him now. That would be pure madness when he knows all he has to do is part his lips and he'll be invaded just as easily as the Mediterranean had been; conquered just as easily as England.

Some may call him weak but Hvitserk feels himself melt. Thoughts leave his mind as feelings build in his chest - his own hands finding their rightful place at Aethelred's waist, fingertips tightening into the soft material of his long robe.

Breathlessly, they part after a long moment. Lungs gasp and burn as their chests rise and fall in unison. Yet still they come back together, Hvitserk giving in and opening his mouth to greet Aethelred's exploring tongue with his own. The touch is familiar by now and confident, rough pads scraping alongside one another as teeth bite softly into plump lips; fuller now, heated and throbbing.

Another lifetime passes in the moonlight and a fox cries in the darkness.

"We should go. I want you but not here." Aethelred barely moves away, breath mixing beautifully with the cloud puffed from Hvitserk's mouth so closely aligned with his own.

"I know where we can go."

The words are no sooner out of Hvitserk's mouth than he takes Aethelred's hand and leads him quickly to the north side of the tower. Before them; a maze of tall hedges. It's secretive and sure to be safe at this time of night.

Safe for lovers.

"Come on." Biting his lip, Hvitserk smiles and lets his fingers entwine with those of the Saxon now, where before only their palms touched. "Nobody will find us here." He starts to walk backwards, eyes as much a lure as the way his cloak falls open, revealing how hard he is inside his leather trousers.

"Hvitserk," Aethelred's protests fall silent against the vision of the Viking's desire for him and he takes a breath of cold air in, steadying himself. "There may be other lovers in there."

"So what. I don't care. You want me and I want you; that's all I care about. And besides, anyone who has to sneak around at night to have sex won't say anything about us if we don't say anything about them."

The reasoning makes sense and, for once, Aethelred finds himself throwing caution to the wind as his feet carry him into the very same footfalls as Hvitserk, making them appear to be one to the naked eye.

Once inside the maze, the moonlight is more a hinderance than a help. Shadows are heavy and hit every angle, making it almost impossible to see. Yet, the hold upon his hand gives Aethelred all the reassurance he needs. He is not alone.

A few times along the way, they stop to kiss against the prim, cut hedges, and more than once Hvitserk loses his hand between them, palm almost cool against the throbbing warmth their bodies provide in anticipation. Aethelred is harder than he is. He's heavier too, Hvitserk knows, and even the thought of that has his hips pushing forward, begging for friction; just a touch if nothing else.

"Do you want me here?" Hvitserk's lidded eyes draw Aethelred in as needy hands do, pulling the Saxon flush against him, drawing a sharp and satisfying hiss from them both. One that slides into a sigh and then a laugh.

"I want you here."

Whatever shame may have been felt before now dissipates with those four, short words. Whatever feelings Hvitserk might have of needing to be in control or dominant - simply because each of his brothers is - vanish. Giving himself to a Saxon might be seen as weak by some, a betrayal by others, but it's all he wants.

Just to feel full and wanted.

Nudging Aethelred away, but holding onto his gaze, Hvitserk pulls the cord of his cloak, allowing it to drop from his shoulders, into a heap at his side. He instantly feels the cold but knowing what's to come keeps him warm enough. Hands slowly find their way to the waist of his trousers and deliberately, he hooks his thumbs inside. In one movement then, he's exposed as leather trousers cling to his thighs and his cock softly slaps back up against the skin of his stomach, hidden a little by his green tunic. One practiced hand lifts the hem of that tunic as the other wraps itself loosely into a fist around his hardness. He strokes it as he tilts his chin up, eyes darker.

"Then have me here, Prince Aethelred."

No note of shyness invades Hvitserk's voice as he finds himself turned and bent at the waist. In the darkness, it feels as though this should be wrong but, if anything, finally being taken this way is what makes having to hide all-the-more worth it.

Strong hands guide Hvitserk's legs, spreading them by the thighs - a little wider. Strong but gentle hands. And that makes the Viking gasp and shudder. Because he knows Aethelred will take care of him. The touch to his lower back, beneath his tunic, grounds him and the shifting he can't see soon falls silent but for the slickening of fingers from Aethelred's own mouth.

And then the blunt press he knows all-too-well.

It's uncomfortable at first, despite only being one or two digits, and Hvitserk tries his best not to flinch or give any indication that he doesn't like it. Because he knows full-well what this sharp sensation will turn into with careful ministrations. A hiss and his toes curl but Aethelred's hand soothes him, rubbing full and so very there at his lower back.

"Do you want me to stop?" Aethelred asks, even as two of his fingers seek to sink deeper into the tight, warm entrance. He will stop if Hvitserk tells him to.

"No. No, don't." Even now, Hvitserk can hear he sounds desperate. It's almost embarrassing - or probably would be to anyone else. But he glances over his shoulder and Aethelred catches his eye. "Just kiss me."

It's the softest command and Aethelred doesn't need to be told twice. As he steps closer, the action only reiterating the fact that two digits are fully seated now, a slow rhythm forming in and out, the prince gives as much heat to the kiss as he can as distraction. His second hand even comes up, reflexively taking hold firmly around Hvitserk's throat to hold him still. Tongues clash in a sloppy, wet way and neither can tell by the end whose mouth is filled more lovingly with the moans of the other.

For that is how they give and take; in moans. In the vibrations Aethelred can feel straining against his palm as his hold only tightens when he feels Hvitserk clench around him.

Aethelred pulls back, easing away with a last small touch of their mouths. It's a gauged tease followed very soon by the loss of touch altogether and Hvitserk, for a moment, fears that perhaps he's gone too far. That perhaps his bite that's almost drawn blood on the Saxon has brought this moment to a crashing halt.

But he's wrong.

The retreat of fingers makes way for the beading head of Aethelred's heavy cock at his entrance and the warmth is unmistakable.

Hvitserk shivers in the night and barely controls his body as it begs to push back; stopped only by a determined hold on his hips. This is to be done at a pace not his own. That much is very clear. No matter how desperately he wants relief.

"What's the matter, Saxon?" He breathes out, panting really, one hand still between his legs, stroking his hard cock. He curves his spine beautifully. "Losing your nerve?"

Aethelred laughs behind him. Not the kind of laugh that he used much before he came to Frankia but one that's become all-too-familiar since. He shakes his head - not that Hvitserk can see. "Hardly. I'm just more used to being taken by you but I suppose it's time that came to an end."

The yes and the please are lost somewhere in the breath that's punched out of Hvitserk's chest in the moment that follows. A silent gasp drops from his mouth; jaw agape with painful pleasure.

Inch by inch slides in - a new sound accompanying each as it's hit and passed - until Aethelred's hips are pressed flush. Skin on skin. The feeling, according to Hvitserk, is better than being with a woman. He can believe it now but it makes the realisation of his future seem all the more unsatisfying. If he knows sex won't ever feel like this again, as though he's a little closer to his God, despite the sin, then what's the point? A family will come to be sure but this tight heat is one of a kind. One he's sad to know he'll have to give up soon.

"Do you like it? Do you like being conquered, Hvitserk?"

That's all he wishes now. To have Aethelred lay waste to him in the best way. Take everything from him; his senses, his mind, his speech. Everything. He longs to be consumed with desire and devoured by his lover.

Bringing the hand up from between his legs, Hvitserk blindly reaches behind and finds Aethelred's hand there to meet his. He takes it and guides it down, wrapping it, along with his own fingers, back around himself.

"I like it. Take anything you want. I'm yours."

Slowly, the rhythm between hands and hips begins. The slow drag that falls in line with the slow push. The slow twist of a wrist that brings about the clench and the quake. Over and over and over again, each thrust gaining in power and speed until the night's silence is indefinitely broken by their shared, unbridled passion.

Few words are exchanged. Instead, the air is filled with the growing repetition of each other's names. Aethelred's whispered out through moans and the slick sound of sex, and Hvitserk's very much the same. Both breaking in crescendo as bodies tense, jointly, in orgasm, before relaxing into one another. The weight of the Saxon prince is heavy as he all-but collapses against Hvitserk, boneless now.

Aethelred's hips still twitch as he releases the last of his seed and Hvitserk is, at least at first, reluctant to let go of his hand - now sticky along with the Viking's own. Gradually though, they recover and part. Hvitserk turns, leaning back into the forgiving hedge and grins, feeling the soreness already beginning but ignoring it in place of the thick, wet warmth left deliberately to soothe it. His face is flushed and the darkness now does little to hide it.

"So?" Hvitserk croaks out, not bothering to dress for a moment but choosing to watch Aethelred tuck himself back in, instead. "Are you going to think of me when you're bedding your wife in the future?"

"Mmm," Aethelred mirrors with a lazy smile. His eyes blink even more heavily than before, if that's possible, and he steps in close again. "Perhaps. But I don't think you should think so highly of yourself, Pagan." He laughs and leans in to claim Hvitserk's mouth in a hot, open kiss; a thin line of saliva connecting them even as they break. "It gives you a bitter taste."

Just as Hvitserk did before, at the dining table, Aethelred holds his gaze and raises his own fingers to his lips. His thumb slips between them and the cooling mess left behind is consumed. Fingers follow systematically and such a thing makes both their cocks twitch.

Perhaps grapes should become a staple from now on.

#hvitserk #prince aethelred #hvithelred #vikings #issadoragreen #requests #/ i tRIED ???????????

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mirkwoodest · 3 years

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History Channel's Vikings By Season According to Émile, post-rewatch (spoilers!)

vikings s1: Good

yeah it just slaps, sets of the world, makes you care. there's a reason it got renewed. the themes get set up, the cool stuff they do with languages, all good. Not perfect, but good.

vikings s2: Great

Plot is even more exciting than s2 in my opinion. The family reuniting in a new way rules. the set-up and twist in the finale is *mwah* 'My main issue was that Kwentrith was given a really 2D pussy-nality. Her stuff with Ecgbert and hitting on everyone was a red flag for the pointless horniness of the next few seasons, RIP.

vikings s3: Cringe until the last 3 episodes

U g h Yeah it gets very annoying here. The horniness of this season gets really tiresome here. Where before if felt like there was sexual energy that served a purpose, it started to get really pointless and annoying in this season. The way they wrote Þorrun off was annoying. Her arc felt very pointless and her motivation for leaving lacked depth. I couldn’t make myself care at all about the Saxon politics and that’s the show’s fault, not my fault, because I found that stuff plenty engaging in The Last Kingdom.

Good character development for other characters, especially Rollo and Bjorn. Aethelstan's stuff is pretty good. Was I sad to see him go? Yes, but I know George got a great gig as the main character of Versailles after this and I thought his death was respectful of his narrative arc. Unpopular opinoin maybe, but I appreciated Ragnar’s first signs of downward spiral. THE SEIGE OF PARIS IS SO GOOD. Literally felt like I was just waiting for the whole season to get back to this section. It seems like they put all their energy into these three episodes and it made all the cringe worth it.

vikings s4 part 1: VERY cringe until close to the end.

The Yidu plot was a HUGE fuck up. one of the worst of the entire show imo. Introducing a woman of color doesn’t get you any diversity points if make her a 2 dimensional sterotype and kill her horribly, lol. The political stuff in Paris with Odo and Charles and the offbrand Lannisters? Not a fan. Don’t care. Didn’t come here for that. Contributed nothing. The political stuff in Wessex with Exbert and Judith and Aethelwulf and Kwentrith? Not a fan. Don’t care. Didn’t come here for that. Could have all been cut and nothing would have been lost except for maybe little glimpses of baby Alfred. So many excessive and pointless horniness. Like WHY?

The only sex scenes that didn’t make me cringe were with Rollo and Gisla because they were funny and light and served a narrative purpose. Rollo and Gisla’s stuff was all solid gold. I would have liked more of it, to be honest. Enemies to lovers arranged marriage slowburn? Medieval powercouple? Girlboss/Malewife vibes? I wanted them to have a spin-off. Bjorn and the bear was a GOOD plot. It was a very effective way to make Bjorn grown up very fast. Lagertha making good on her promise to kill Kalf and doing it on their wedding day? A real GirlBoss move. I was similarly satisfied by Torvi’s stuff. I think it’s rad that she was such a minor character in season 2 and by season 4 she’s gotten pretty interesting. Ragnar’s downfall hurt, but it was a long time coming. It narratively made sense. As soon as they got back to Paris, the battles were once again wicked. That shit with the towers and the chain and the fire arrows was beautiful. Seriously, planning out interesting and engaging battles is one of the main strong suits of this show, it never disappoints. Finale? GOLD. Making us root for Rollo and feel satisfied that he had defeated the family of protagonists we’ve been rooting for this whole time? Genius. The jump forward in time!!!!!!! I remember I lost my shit watching it the first time. Because all of the first half of S4 is all about Ragnar falling to pieces, it was really useful and hopeful to see OH YEAH the next generation is about to take over.

vikings s4 part 2: Soooooooo good oh my god.

The tragedy. The coming together. Knowing that everyone's shit is about to get wrecked. TBH this might be the strongest season in terms of big-picture storytelling without neglecting nuances of individual characters. Biggest complaint is just that Gisla was treated as a dead end when there was still so much potential for interesting shit to happen with her and Rollo. Sigh. I thought Lagertha's characterization started to fray a bit though. Like it seemed like she was at peace w/ Aslaug so why kill her after she surrendered?

vikings s5 part 1: Decent

Good plot. Less over-the-top horniness. Very solid except Heamund was very annoying. Stuff with the brothers was pretty good. Lagertha's characterization continued to fray though. Idk why I don't have much to say, I guess that kind of speaks to the quality of 5a. Not mindblowing but not rage inducing.

vikings s5 part 2: Okay...

The plot itself was pretty good except Freydis is 2D as fuck. Great potential just left to rot on the floor. I'm in love with Gunnhild. Heamund was.... poorly cast. They continued to tone down the over-the too horniness and everyone benefited. Gunnhild my beloved... Thorra's character existing just to be fridged was 🙄 Speaking of which Hvitserk's arc was all over the place and totally disconected from where he came from of where he was going.

vikings s6 part 1: Good

Good tbh. Kiev is DOPE. Ingrid was kind of 2D. Hvitserk's fixation on Thorra was kind of hard to buy into because she had so little screentime and personality before being fridged. Bjorn's, Ivar's, and Hvitserk's arcs all felt solid and interesting. Loved everything with the little Russian prince. Yeah. Bjorn's kid dying felt very pointless though, and made me annoyed at Lagertha. Lagetha's end was good. Bjorn wrecking Hvitserk was extremely triggerig hahaha but good. The battle with the Rus was good. Character development for everyone but Hvitserk felt solid

vikings s6 part 2: Good

Mostly all good. Bjorn's final stuff was great. Hvitserk and Ivar's stuff was good, the Rus plotline was good. I really disliked the Gunnhild, Ingrid, Harald, Eric stuff. Like compared to the other plotlines it felr very hollow. They made Ingrid more 3D at least. I have mixed feelings about Gunnhild..... like it was kind of a badass end, but she was supposed to be the mother of kings???? The England plotline was pretty good, especially Ivar, Hvitserk, and Harald's stuff although Alfred just couldn't compare with TLK's Alfred in terms of depths. He was comparatively very 2D. I think they rushed Hvitserk's arc completion. There was interesting stuff that could have been mined. Ubbe and Torvi's stuff was p agonizing but the payoff was huge. I liked the Canada plotline. Very satisfying and a beautiful counterbalance to to the tone of the entire show, creating a really fitting ending in my book. Like perfect? No, of course not. The had sooo many strings to tie up so it would have been almost impossible to do it perfectly. But overall it was a satisfying and natural end. I felt like investing so much time to go on a journey with these characters was worth it in the end and it gave me a lot to think about.

#rape mention #vikings tv #I probably left out some stuff but this isnmy general take #txt

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karij · 5 years

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OCtober Writing Prompts Day 6 - Dreams and Aspirations

A memory from 21 years ago, when Karri was 12 years old.

Griff came home! He’s been gone for ages on his trip. He was in Waterdeep for a few years after he turned 20. He was working for papa and Mr. Braun, helping them make trade deals with merchants in the city. I didn’t see him much but he came home sometime and he always had stories to tell, and presents too. One time he brought me a belt knife with a handle made of pretty green stone, but mama took it away. She said I could cut myself so I could have it when I was older. It’s been 3 years and she still hasn’t given it back. She treats me like I’m a baby, but I’m 12 years old. It’s not fair. Griff brought me a ring next time. It’s pretty but I know he bought something mama would let me keep. I keep it in my box with the other things he’s brought me.

I like the presents, but I like the stories better. Griff saved all the money he made working for papa and Mr. Braun and went on a trip all the way across the ocean. He went to Shavay! He says that it’s really different there. It’s hot and bright and filled up with sand. It’s like being at a beach he says, but instead of ocean waves there’s just rolling sand (he calls them dunes) as far as you can see. Farther, even. He told me he met a man who had a cat with stripes on his back like the Fletchers’ tomcat (his name is Chops, ‘cause he has super fluffy fur on the sides of his face) but this cat was the size of a lion! Bigger even! He said he saw a big blue dragon fly over him so he had to hide in the sand. He also said he saw a animal that was the size of a house and it had big floppy ears (bigger than me!) and it had two white horns on its face and a long nose that it could fill up and then drink out of like a cup. I think he made that one up though.

There’s a story I don’t get to hear. Mama and papa made me leave before he told it, but Harri and Elli had to leave to. I think was a grownup story. I want to listen at the door but Elli told me was gonna tell on me if I didn’t stop. Traitor. I would have told her and Harri too but she says Mama said no. She never lets me get away with stuff. Probably why mama puts her in charge when I’m feeling sick and she has to go out. Cadi lets me play in my room when I’m not feeling good but Elli makes me stay in bed and go to sleep. One time she held my nose and made me swallow a bunch of valerian root since I wouldn’t take a nap. It was super gross and I didn’t wake up for like 3 days. Mama freaked out and wouldn’t let me out of her sight for ages after that. Elli got in big trouble for getting into mamas medicines though, serves her right.

They’re opening up the door now, I guess the story is over. I missed the whole thing, ugh. Rollo and Griff and the others are coming out. Are we done with stories for now? I run up to Griff and grab his hand, bouncing on my toes.

“Griff! Are you going somewhere? Can I come with? Please?”

Griff grins and reaches down to ruffle my hair, I grin back and blow my hair out of my eyes.

“I’m heading to the Stag-Horned Flagon with Rollo and Martyn. I don’t mind you coming along kiddo, what about you Rollo?”

“Fine by me. Martyn?”

“I don’t mind… What do you think Ma? Pa?”

Dangit Martyn, why did you have to ask mama? Maybe I can still make this work. I turn to mama and put on the most desperate, excited face that I can. Puppy eyes don’t work for me. If mama thinks I’m tired or upset she’ll make me stay home and sleep. I hop from foot to foot, hands clasped in front of me pleadingly, my eyes wide and pleading.

“Mama, can I go? Pleeeease? I don’t feel sick or tired, and I promise I’ll be good. Honest!”

Mama frowns and my heart sinks, she’s about to say no. I just know it. Then she sighs and turns to Papa, “What do you think El? Should I let her go?”

Papa rubs his chin, “I dunno, do you think she’ll behave herself?”

I hop over to papa so fast I almost trip, nodding my head vigorously, “I’ll be good papa, I promise! I want to hear the rest of Griff’s stories. I’ll listen to Rollo n’ Griff n’ Martyn, I will! Please just let me go papa!” I want it so bad I’m shaking. I hear a tiny giggle and see that Cadi is covering her mouth with her hand. I squint suspiciously, are they making fun of me?

But there’s more important things. I swivel back to papa, trying my best to contain my anxiety. What if he says no? But… hey! He’s biting his lip, he’s trying not to laugh! I take a step back and look around, glaring at everybody. They’re all trying not to laugh! I cross my arms, put on my cross face, and stomp my foot on the floor.

“Hey, you’re all making fun of me!” I huff in annoyance, “That’s not nice. Big jerks.”

They all give up. They’re all giggling, then they’re all laughing at me! No fair, they all teamed up to trick me! Even Elli and Harri are laughing! They all knew! That’s cheating! I stand there fuming while they laugh, then as they calm down mama comes over to me, still giggling softly.

“Allright Karri, you can go with your brothers. Just be good for them, okay?”

“Really?” My eyes get wide as saucers, I smile and hug her around her waist as tight as I can, “Thank you mama! I’ll be good! Thank you, thank you!” I get to go! I never get to go! This is the best night ever. Wait, what am I gonna wear? I gotta get dressed! I pull away from mama, still bouncing in excitement, and dash up the stairs two at a time. Mama calls up after me.

“Slow down Karri! You’re gonna trip and hit your head!”

“Yes mama!” I yell back, slowing down and taking the stairs one by one. She’s right, I get to go out! Can’t risk messing that up by bonking my noggin. Gotta be careful.

I hurl myself out of my clothes and yank on my best blue dress. I get to go out! I gotta look good. I tug a brush through my bright-red hair so I don’t look like a big tangle of yarn. Am I forgetting anything? I look around. I go to the window and struggle to open it. It’s heavy for me. I manage to crack it open and a stiff wind breathes through. I shiver, it’s chilly out. I shut the window. Mostly. It gets stuck, okay?

I look around for my coat but I don’t see it. It’s not in my chest either. When I look up, I see mama’s shawl on the bed. Well, my shawl. The one that was mamas. Its mine now. But I don’t want to wear that out. It’s warm and stuff but it’s… wearing your mamas shawl is for little kids. Not for grown ups. I get to go out with the boys I should look like a grown up. I look away from it. But then I look back. It is cold outside… and mamas shawl is really warm. And soft. And pretty.

I pull it around my shoulders. The pale blue looks nice with my dress. I should pin it with something though. Ooh! I got it! I run over to my bed-table and pull open the drawer to get my little box. Griffs ring is way too big for my finger, it doesn’t even fit mama and my fingers are way littler than hers are. But maybe… yeah! I pull the ends of my shawl through the ring and stick a little silver pin through them. Silver ring, silver pin, yeh. I look good! And I gotta look good, because I get to go out. Now I’m ready.

“Karri, you ready? We gotta get going!”

That’s Rollo. Everyone’s waiting on me, oops! I scuttle my way out of my room and down the stairs as fast as I can. Rollo, Griff, and Martyn all have their coats and are ready to go. Mama comes over to me, she has my coat. She holds it out towards me with one hand.

“Looking for this?” She looks down at me and smiles, “I think you look very nice, but would you prefer your coat dear?”

I look down at mamas shawl, draped around my shoulders. It’s too big for me, it makes me look even smaller than I already am. But it’s warm and… it’s mine. I shake my head and look down, blushing slightly.

“No. I’m okay mama. Thank you.”

“Alright then.” Her smile widens just slightly. She reaches down and adjusts my shawl, repinning it so it fits more snugly around my shoulders, like a hug. She cups my cheeks in her hands and kisses my forehead. Blegh, I blush and pull away and scrub at my forehead. She laughs. “Have fun baby girl, be safe.” I’m not a baby, but I nod anyways and scamper over to Griff and the others so we can head out to the Flagon. I get to go out!

The night goes fast. We have a really tasty stew for dinner at the Flagon, and I get to have a big cup of cider! It’s almost as big as my head! My brothers all have ales, but I’m not old enough to get one. Not that I want to, cider is yummy and ale tastes like butts. Or at least that’s what Harri said after he got in trouble for sneaking one of papa’s ales. Griff gets out his manto… his… mandi… his instrument and played songs he learned on his trip! I sat on Rollo’s lap and clapped and sang along, then Rollo laughed and set me up on top of the table! He said I had to dance for my supper, so I did. It was embarrassing but it was really fun too. I was so tired by the end of it. I plopped back onto Rollo’s lap and sat there while he and Martyn clapped along.

I guess I fell asleep at some point because when I woke up I was in my room. Rollo was carrying me to my bed. I was in my nightgown, I guess he changed me into it but I wasn’t embarrassed, he’d taken me swimming in Horse Pond too many times for me to be shy about that. My eyes were bleary as he set me down on my bed and pulled my covers up to my chin. I smiled up at him and he smiled back down at me.

“Hey kiddo. Did you have fun?”

“Uh huh.”

“Guess we really tired you out, huh?”

I nodded, yawning hugely.

“Allright kiddo. Do you want a light?”

The light from the doorway was coming through but once he shut it… the shadows were already getting bigger. I look over at the darkness, then turn back to him and nod, not meeting his eyes.

“...Yeah.”

“Still don’t like the dark, huh?”

“...No.”

“Allright kiddo. Well, you know what might help? I almost forgot your present.”

My eyes shot wide open, I wanted to push myself up but I was so tired. I forgot about presents! He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little ceramic pot. It was black and shiny and covered in little gold leafs. Then he pulled out a little glass bottle. He pulled the top off of the bottle and a pretty smell filled the air. Lavender? He took my lamp oil from the bed-table and filled up the little pot, then put in a tiny droplet from the bottle, and lit a wick. The pretty lit lamp lit up on my bed-table and the smell of flowers filled the room. I smiled tiredly. It was nice.

Griff smiled again, brushing my hair away from my face.

“Do you like your present?”

“Uh-huh. Thanks Griff.”

“You’re welcome kiddo.”

“Griff?”

“Yeah sis?”

“Will you take me on an adventure someday? When I’m old enough?”

Griff hesitated, then he smiled softly, I think a little bit sadly. “Sure I will Karri. You can come with me someday, but first you have to be big and strong.”

“Then I’m gonna get as big and strong as I can. Bigger and stronger than you even.”

He chuckled and ruffled my hair. “I bet you will kiddo. Then we’ll go on that trip, together.”

I nod, smiling sleepily. “Promise?”

“I promise. Now get some rest, okay?”

“Okay. I love you Griff.”

“I love you too Karri.”

#OCtober #Karrigan Goodbarrel #writing prompt #this was a long one

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bee-kathony · 6 years

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Happy World Outlander Day! Chapter 9 | Reflection Tales From Fraser’s Ridge

This is a collection of tales about characters that live on Fraser’s Ridge in North Carolina. Most stories are set after or during the book ‘Drums of Autumn’ by Diana Gabaldon. Missing moments I thought would fit in nicely, mostly a look into the domestic simple days of our favorite characters, it’s the little things isn’t it?

Part 1: Tell Me About the Bicycle | Claire & Jamie Part 2: A Song From the Past | Roger & Bree Part 3: Let Me Wash You | Claire & Jamie feat. Bree (briefly) Part 4: Reminiscing | Claire & Bree Part 5: Happy Birthday Sassenach | Claire & Jamie feat. Jenny, Ian, Rachel, Roger, Bree, Jem & Mandy Part 6: By the Fireside | Jenny & Bree Part 7: Saturation | Claire & Jamie (wee bit of Roger & Bree) Part 8: That’s Amore | Claire, Jamie, Roger, Bree, Jem, The Bug’s Part 9: Reflection | Claire & Jamie

Jamie shows Claire the newly finished Big House on the Ridge.

I looked around the small space of the cabin, gathering anything I wanted to take up to the Big House. Jamie said he would have it finished today; well, finished enough so that we could move our stuff in and get some much needed alone time. Living in such close quarters with people other than my husband wasn’t all bad, until some nights I would suddenly feel Jamie press himself against me, only feet away from Ian and Rollo and whoever else happened to be occupying the cabin. I resisted him as best I could, he usually over powered me, wrapping his arms around me, turning me into him and sliding home. Not that I minded really… but it was a bit awkward to face young Ian the next morning, wondering if he had heard or God forbid, seen.

Picking up my basket of bits and bobs, I turned to head out the door and almost ran headlong into Jamie.

“Och, Sassenach” He steadied me, gripping my shoulders. “I was comin’ to get ye, I want to see ye’re face when ye see it.” He said proudly, he took my basket and held out his arm for me to take.

I smiled, and we walked arm in arm up to the Big House. Of course I had already seen the Big House, watching the progress as Jamie and Ian worked, occasionally helping to hold a wood beam or point out any helpful tips.

But I knew Jamie was excited to show it to me now that it was “finished”, only needing a few missing window panes he was in the process of acquiring, he told me. Once we rounded the corner, I paused, the sight before me nearly took my breath away. It was only Jamie’s arm that held me upright.

“Ye alright Sassenach?” Jamie asked, peering into my face, worried something was wrong.

I nodded and turned to him, “Yes. Yes Jamie! It’s…. beautiful. It’s…” I looked once again to the labor of love Jamie had built.

“Our home. It’s our home Sassenach.” Jamie pulled me into him and kissed me swiftly, dropping the basket to the ground and reaching down to pick me up in his arms.

“Jamie, what on earth are you doing?” I gasped, feeling his strong arms flex around me. He began to walk towards the house. “I intend to carry ye ovr’ the threshold mo nighean donn, if my back doesna give out first that is.” He grunted, readjusting my body and I settled against him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He carried me into our home, it was everything I had dreamed of. “Here’s ye’re wee surgery Sassenach,” Jamie said as he sat me down on my feet, his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the house. “And the kitchen, where many a good meal will be cooked and eaten.” He patted my bottom and I squeaked.

“The study, we can collect books and build ye up a library if ye like.” He said cheerfully, pleased with his work. He took my hand and led me up the stairs, showing me one of the two bedrooms, yet to be filled with furniture.

“And this…” He opened another door, “is our room Sassenach.” He sighed, watching my face. He had somehow managed to have a mattress sent up to the Ridge without my knowledge. “Oh Jamie, I love it.” I smiled at him and then walked in, placing my hand on the bed frame. It was scarcely decorated, the bed taking up most of the space. We still didn’t have much but we didn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.

Jamie came up behind me, kissing the spot just under my ear. “I’m glad ye like it, but ye havna even seen the best part of the room Sassenach.” He growled against my ear, turning my body to face the corner of the room. He had placed a mirror in the corner, “Jamie, when did you get this?” I asked, staring at our reflection in the slightly frosted mirror. It wasn’t completely clean but it did the task it was intended for just fine.

“I had it brought up with the other supplies a few weeks ago. I wanted to surprise ye mo cridhe.” Jamie stood behind me as I looked at the mirror, his chin resting on the top of my head. His arms came and wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight back against him.

Oh.

“Well it’s a very nice surprise, thank you darling.” I leaned my head back against his chest and my hands covered his around me. He made a very Scottish noise deep in his throat and brought one hand to my hip and the other to the front of my dress.

“There is somethin’ I’ve been wanting to do to ye evr’ since I put the mirror in here…Sassenach.” His fingers were now slowly pulling open the fabric of my dress, loosening my bodice and exposing my breasts, tucked behind my thin shift.

“Oh? And what did you have in mind?” I pushed my hips back against his growing hardness and he sighed. “I plan to take ye, right here, in front of the mirror Sassenach.” His hand on my hip moved to where his other hand was and he pulled the fabric off my shoulders and let my dress fall around my feet. I stood in my shift, my nipples could be seen through the material, I saw Jamie’s hooded eyes drift down my body and I shivered.

“You mean to show me how it looks when you’re inside me, is that it?” I moaned as his hands slid from the tops of my thighs up the slope of my belly and cupped the fullness of my breasts.

“Mmmm, I do.” He pressed his thumb against my hardened nipple and pinched it gently. “I want ye to see yerself when I slide inside ye, how ye’re face looks when I pleasure ye.” I had absolutely no objections to his plans, I stood there looking back at our reflection. His powerful and yet graceful body pressed against my smaller form. I watched as Jamie’s large hands began to knead my breasts over my shift.

I felt a slickness between my thighs, the image before me was so erotic. Jamie moved his hands down the sides of my body once more and grabbed the hem of my shift, pulling it slowly up and over my head, tossing it aside. Biting my bottom lip, I brought one of Jamie’s hands to my hip and turned my head slightly to kiss him. His lips pressed against mine with a hunger that had been stirring in us both and now we were finally alone. Jamie quickened the kiss and then he turned my face, his fingers pressing against my cheeks as he made me look back into the mirror. “Watch Sassenach, see how when I touch ye…ye squirm.” He chuckled, sending vibrations through my bones.

His hands found their way back to my breasts and continued kneading the soft flesh. It was difficult to keep my eyes open, wanting to lean my head back against him and take in every sensation he was causing my body to feel.

I cried out, “Jamie” when his hand slid in between my arse cheeks. He was undoing his breeks, pushing them down with one hand to his ankles. Now his cock pressed against me, I could feel the throbbing and pulsing of his heartbeat. “God Jamie” I moaned once more.

He smirked, meeting my eyes in the mirror and dipped his hand between my thighs, pushing them aside to make room for him to enter me. “Now look, Sassenach, between ye’re thighs as I take ye.” He grunted, holding his cock in his hand as he guided himself to my entrance and gently pressed it up and filled me.

I was already breathless, seeing him take me like this was a completely new sensation. How I was able to see the lips of my vagina open to him and how I could see the thickness of his cock as he pushed deeper inside of me.

I had watched him thrust inside me before and I had looked at the place of our joining as I rode on top of him but to see my own facial reaction was something else. Jamie sighed as he was fully in me, my walls clenching around his length, begging for friction. “I want ye to see what I see Sassenach.” He wrapped his hands around my waist and began to thrust up, his cock filling me and I saw, not only felt the slickness between my thighs.

“Jamie, please” I begged him, he met my gaze and held on to my hips, meeting my every thrust as I pressed into him. When fully erect he was so large that in this position I needed to stand on the tips of my toes. “Christ Sassenach, ye’re so beautiful.” Jamie moved his fingers to the place of our joining and pressed his thumb against my sensitive bud. I watched the joints in his hand move and the pressure was building within me.

My eyes closed, unable to keep them open as he moved his thumb in small steady strokes. “No, look Sassenach.” He demanded. I forced my eyes open and he smiled, breathing heavily. Jamie pressed his lips together and place both hands on my hips and began ramming into me, forcing me to lean forward. I reached out one hand and placed it on the edge of the mirror, now inches away from my own reflection. My breath created fog against the glass, Jamie moaned from above me and kept up his rhythm.

“Ye’re sweet arse, my God” Jamie held the curves of my arse and slammed home against me, my forehead pressing into the mirror. I gripped both sides of the mirror, crying out, “Jamie, oh Jamie!” As the waves of my pleasure overtook me, leaving me limp and my legs weak. I felt Jamie was close and he pulled me up and back, flush against his body. I looked into the mirror at his face and licked my lips. He looked at our bodies joined together then and stilled his movements. He came hard, convulsing behind me, pressing his weight against my body. It took all of whatever strength I had left to not fall over and into the mirror.

Once he came down from his orgasm, Jamie held me tightly, placing small kisses against my neck.

“Did ye like it Sassenach? Seeing yerself like that?”

I nodded, blood rushing to my cheeks, “Yes…I rather think I did.” I laughed and so did he, sending vibrations all through my body.

“Jamie, thank you,” I turned my head up to his, “for building this home. Our life finally feels like it’s beginning and you know nothing can take me away from you now.” He bent to kiss me and in one motion he slipped out between my legs and picked me up in his arms, walking the few steps to the bed and laying me down, settling in beside me.

“I’ll keep ye safe mo nighean donn, nothin’ can hurt ye now that we are together. This is our home and I know ye’ll make it a happy one.” Our lips met briefly, my hand cupping his cheek, I moved my thumb against the scruff of his short beard. “We will make it a happy one Jamie, you and I.” He squeezed me to him, our legs intertwining and I didn’t know where he ended and I began…just as it should be.

#tales from frasers ridge #jamie fraser #claire fraser #reflection #jamie and claire in front of a mirror #outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire fraser

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oniusagimaru · 6 years

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[Kresnikcest Fanfiction] - Unknown Territory

Title: Unknown Territory Pairings: Julius/Ludger Author: Oniusagimaru Rating: T Chapter: 1/? Warnings: Ludger being a big ass nerd Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters Summary: Julius just wanted to know what Ludger's hobbies were...he didn't expect to get sucked into them as well. A/N: This is what happens when you detest OreImo but like the idea of one sibling discovering the other is a huge ass anime fan

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Staring down at the box he’d placed on the kitchen table, Julius knows this one accident has screwed up his entire relationship with his little brother.

The package in the mail had simply been addressed to a ‘Mr. Kresnik’, and Julius had ordered their cat an assortment of toys that was expected to arrive that very week. So of course he opened the inconspicuous brown package without a second thought, and if he could rewind time, he’d punch himself straight in the jaw for being so hasty. What slipped out of the package was a thick, rectangular box wrapped in plastic, and as soon as his eyes landed on the cover, all Julius could do was stare in utter shock.

Across the top was the title ‘Your Sweet Love – Fan Disk – ENGLISH PC VERSION‘, and underneath it was a drawing of a man surrounded by several other men, their hands all over the body of the one in the center. His mind went blank for a good minute, and once he came to his senses he damn near dropped it in a moment of panic. After a quick catch he placed it on the kitchen table, and for a longest time all he could do was stare at from where he sat.

Running his fingers through his hair, Julius knows there’s only two options right now. One, he can put the game back in the parcel, seal it up as best he can, and pretend he’d never touched it in the first place. Or…he could confront his little brother about it and just get the awkward moment over with. Julius really, really wants to go with the former, but his mind screams at him that the latter is the correct way to go. Why? Because as hard as it is to admit, Julius knows NOTHING about Ludger.

Despite growing up together, he couldn’t think of one time when his brother picked up a hobby or expressed an interested in something. Well, except cooking, but that was only because Julius is an absolute disaster in the kitchen. He really didn’t know what his little brother like outside of the basics, and this is a golden opportunity to finally dig a little deeper. Ludger liked…whatever the game is enough to purchase it, so maybe he could get him to talk about it, if only a little.

He jumps upon hearing the door to their apartment open, and all he can do now is swallow hard as he readies himself for what’s to come.

“Sorry I’m late,” he hears Ludger say, “I stopped at the grocery store since they were having a sale. Is lasagna okay for tonight? I know we’ve had pasta two nights in a row already-”

“Hey, um, could you come here for a second?” Julius asks, and he’s really trying his best to hide the nervousness in his voice.

“Sure,” Ludger says before placing the plastic bags he’s holding on the counter.

Clenching his jaw tightly, Julius can hear his heart pounding in his ears which each approaching step Ludger takes. Oh god…he’s really going to do this…wait, can he really do this?

“What’s up-?”

His words are cut off by the strangled sound he makes once he lays eyes on the box on the table. Ludger’s eyes widen, and for a split second his face pales before it’s dyed a shade of bright red that manages to reach the tips of his ears. Julius has never seen him so embarrassed before. Damn, now he doesn’t know what to say, so he watches Ludger fidget in place like a kid that’s in trouble-

Shit…Another wave of panic begins to set in because Ludger thinks he’s done wrong; Julius hasn’t given him a reason to think otherwise, so that’s probably the first thing he should address.

“I’m so sorry, I thought the package was for me since I ordered cat toys for Rollo, that’s why I opened it,” he quickly says, “and um, it’s okay if you like cartoon games, really.”

Seemingly explicit cartoon games he wants to say, but he manages to choke that one back.

“Ah…” Ludger squeaks out, eyes on the floor.

They go silent, and it feels far more awkward than Julius had imagined. He wanted to know what Ludger is interested in, but how does he even start that conversation? ‘Oh hey, tell me more about this weird game’, ‘what are those guys doing?’, ‘it’s porn, right?’…None of those were going to work, and it’d only make him shrink back further. Julius really wishes he’d thought this through a little more, at least enough to get past this silence.

“It’s, um…a dating sim…” he says barely above a whisper.

“Oh…okay. So, you, uh…play a guy that dates other guys?”

Ludger lets out a groan that makes it clear he’s absolutely mortified, and as he covers his face with his hands, Julius feels terrible for making him feel like that. He should stop the conversation now.

“Please just tell me it’s weird, you don’t have to beat around the bush,” he says, voice raising a good two octaves as he does so.

Julius clenches his jaw again before answering.

“Yeah, it’s…it’s weird, Ludger, but…” he lets out a long, shaky breath before continuing, “It’s your thing. I may find it weird, but you’re an adult. And really, I want to know more about the stuff you like…because I feel so out of loop when it comes to your interests. I mean, if you really don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

Silence falls between them again, but this time it doesn’t feel as heavy as it did before. Ludger slowly begins to drop his hands from his face, but his eyes are still glued to the floor. Julius opens his mouth to say something else, but quickly closes it. He’s said more than enough, so he leaves whatever needs to be said to Ludger.

“…Can we…talk about this another time? J-Just so I have some time to think and make a decision…”

“Yeah, of course.”

The moment he sees Ludger start to relax a bit, Julius begins to do the same. He quickly retreats into the kitchen without another word, so Julius takes this as a hint that the conversation is over.

An entire week goes by, and Ludger seemed to do everything within his power to pretend that their little talk hadn’t happened. The very next day he was all smiles as he went about his daily routine, but as Julius watched him, he couldn’t help but notice Ludger’s slip-ups. The two of them never held eye contact for more than a few seconds before his little brother averted his gaze elsewhere or quickly excuse himself. When not actively fleeing from him, Ludger looked lost in thought, which wouldn’t have been a problem if he wasn’t doing chores while it happened.

He’d ironed through three shirts, burned their dinner twice, and walked right into the wall next to his bedroom door. But when Ludger damn nearly cuts off a finger while preparing a meal, Julius realized he needed to put a stop to things. On his way home from work he was determined to tell Ludger that it was all right, that he didn’t need share anything with him if just thinking about it was causing him so much distress.

Well that was the original plan before Ludger grabbed his wrist as soon as he entered the apartment. Before he could get a single word out, he was quickly dragged to his brother’s room, the door shutting loudly as soon as he entered.

So he just sits on his brother’s bed, watching as he gives him a stern look. Despite the air of seriousness Ludger tries to give off, Julius can see a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. After a few seconds Ludger looks away, but he seems to gather his wits and look back. Now is probably a good time for Julius take a bit of that weight off his brother’s shoulders, but as he opens his mouth to speak, Ludger beats him to it.

“Did…did you mean what you said before…?” he questions, leaning forward a bit as he does so.

“Um, about what-?”

“About being interested in the things I like.”

Without hesitation he tells him that yes, yes he meant what he said, but more importantly he wants Ludger to be comfortable talking to him. Another silence falls, but this time Julius thinks it’s not from awkwardness but from Ludger taking what he said to heart. Julius might’ve been curious, but he would not allow his curiosity to win out at the expense of his little brother’s comfort.

“…I don’t think I’ll ever be totally okay with talking to you about it, I mean…” he averts his gaze, the blush on his face deepening a bit. “You’d be the second real life person I’ve talked to about it, and Nova barely counts since she was already in the know about this stuff.”

Straightening up, Ludger admits that having someone else to ‘rant to’ other than Nova would be nice, though Julius withholds feeling flattered until his brother gives him the okay. After a few seconds Ludger lets out a loud huff, and Julius doesn’t resist as his brother pulls him up by the wrist. They don’t go far; Ludger stops in front of his closet, a place Julius never ventured into so of course it’d be the perfect place to hide whatever. Ludger pushes aside a couple of shirts to get to the back, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

With both their closets there’s a space for extra storage behind a sliding door in the back, and even though Julius thinks it’s not quite big enough to fit a bunch of stuff, Ludger has clearly made it work for his hobby. His brother gives him a quick look over his shoulder before he begins to open the door, and once Julius has a clear view of what’s inside, he’s dumbstruck.

The first three shelves are lined with what looks like books, and as he scans each row he sees boxes that resemble the one he’d accidently found in the mail. Some of the titles on the spins are in English while others are written in a language he vaguely recognizes; Ludger will probably explain it to him, so he simply moves on. The middle two shelves are occupied by figurines of various sizes, each one striking a different, dynamic pose. He stares at one positioned near the front for a few seconds, and then it dawns on him that he’s seen that character…on the cover of that PC game.

The last shelf holds plush toys of strange animals Julius can’t even begin to identify, though one does vaguely resemble a cat if he squints. Next to the toys are an assortment of keychains; some of them look like miniature versions of the figurines, while others looks like drawing printed on a thin piece of plastic. There’s just so much stuff that in front of him he can’t help but feel overwhelmed, and it’s amazes him that he’s never he caught a glimpse of any of it until last week.

“I like anime and manga…they’re basically Japanese cartoons and comics,” he mutters, blush reaching the tips of his ears again.

Julius doesn’t mean for the ‘huh’ he gives off to sound indifferent, so he clears his throat to give a proper response.

“I see…Wait, so you can understand Japanese?”

“Yeah, I’ve been teaching myself since middle school.”

That’s…impressive. As soon as he tells Ludger how amazed he is, his brother gives him a goofy, lopsided smile, but it disappears as quickly as it appears. He admits that learning a language just to further enjoy his hobby doesn’t seem like that big of an achievement, let alone something worth praising. Julius can’t help but feel taken aback, even if some part of him was expecting a response along those lines. Sometimes he forgets about his brother’s self-esteem issues, and it’s in these moments that Julius knows he needs to flex his big brother muscle.

“No, I mean it, I’m seriously impressed,” he says while placing a hand on Ludger’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’d have the motivation to learn a different language just because, let alone for as long as you’ve been doing it. I’m proud of you.”

Ludger looks skeptical, but as a small smile slowly spreads across his lips, Julius knows he’s taken his words to heart.

Once he relaxes a little more, Ludger goes over everything in his closet, from the comic books called manga and why they’re read backwards, to a brief history of what anime is. As he listens intently, flipping through one of the books as he does so, something catches his eye in the corner of the closet.

“What’s that?” Julius asks while motioning to the unmarked carboard box.

“Oh, that? I just keep my old OTP stuff in there. I mean, I still ship a lot of it, but newer stuff…takes …priority…u-um…”

He has no idea what his brother just said, and as Ludger blushes deeply while covering his face, Julius has a feeling this is going to be a long process…

#kresnikcest #fanfiction

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caramelfuzz · 7 years

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The Fight pt. 1

Okay so I WAS gonna write something where Keith is sick on his birthday, but alas the inspiration fairy has yet to smash my head in so I’m gonna post something that has been sitting in my docs for a very long time

Warning: It is VERY self-indulgent and angsty XD

This is inspired (sort of…maybe the beginning a little?) by me overreacting to none of my friends coming to my choir concert this past year in college. Only like fifteen people showed up to the event total, so I was very upset. Of course I retaliated by trying to make them feel bad and showing up to their band/orchestra concert. It did not work, but I got over myself.

Keith lay in his bed, shivery and exhausted. He knew he’d promised Lance he would go to his performance that night, but he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open long enough to dial the number he knew by heart or even send a short text. He fell asleep with his phone in his hands, not waking up to the multiple texts and calls from his boyfriend. When Lance burst through the door about two hours later, he was livid. “Keith! Get your lazy, lying ass out of bed and explain to me why you missed my concert tonight! If you don’t want to date me at least have the courtesy to tell me!”

Keith startled, eyes shooting open to see a red-faced Lance packing a suitcase. “L-ladce? Wh-where are you g-goigg?” He asked, tears welling in his eyes. Lance turned and gave him a hateful glare. “I’m going back to my place for a while, until you are man enough to either apologize or break up with me.” With that he turned on his heel, slamming the door on his way out, leaving Keith in a heap on the floor, sobbing. By the time he pulled himself from the floor, he knew he definitely had a fever.

After a few days of feeling his health steadily decline, Keith had run out of almost everything in his apartment. He could live without tissues or cold medicine, but not having food was a no-no. He knew Hunk and Pidge had class right then, and Shiro was out of town for work, so that left one person on his very short contact list. He took a deep breath to calm himself, only sending him into a violent fit of coughing that he tried to smother when he heard Lance pick up.

“What do you want.” Was the cold voice that seemed to be demanding an answer, rather than asking. “Ladce… I deed to go to the store add I really dod’t thidk I cad bake it there… Do you thidk you could go grab be sobe stuff add just leave it outside by roob?”

“No, I cannot, actually. I have plans tonight with Rollo and Nyma that I need to get ready for.”

Keith felt his heart twinge at the thought of Lance going out with those two, when the three of them got together it was always bad news for Lance. “Ladce. You dod’t have to take be to the store, but please, do dot go out with Dyba add Rollo. Dot for by sake, but for yours.” He pleaded, trying not to let the congestion in his voice show too much. “Tch, listen to yourself, Keith. I can tell you’re faking being sick so I’ll feel bad and come back to you, but it isn’t happenin’, sugar. If you want me back, you’ll have to come out and find me tonight.” With that he hung up, secretly thrilled. Keith would come to the club that night and make a scene. Lance could never break up with Keith, but he was angry at him for missing his concert the other night. He was so upset about Keith being a no-show that he’d messed up on not only his flute solo in the orchestra, but also his special piccolo parts in the wind ensemble, and then the conductor had yelled at him for a solid ten minutes after the concert had ended. It always made him swoon when Keith made a scene for him. Keith sighed when Lance hung up, knowing he was expected to go make a scene and defend Lance’s honor or something, so he figured he should get to the store and pick something up that would prepare him for the long night he was about to have.

Bundling up in as many layers as he could, Keith began his journey to the store. Normally the trip took fifteen minutes on average, but Keith’s movements were slower than usual due to fever, and he kept having to stop and brace himself on various objects if he became dizzy or was overcome with a particularly strong bout of coughs or sneezes.

By the time he finally arrived at the store, he knew for sure his fever was spiking. He was alternating between feeling as though he were about to have a heat stroke and feeling like he was freezing to death. He grabbed a basket and shakily made his way towards the aisle labeled cold and flu. He started to put things in the basket, then he heard familiar voices emanating from the next aisle over— “Fuck you, Hunk! I want peeps!”

“Dude, you need to start eating healthier if you ever want to grow.”

“Shut up! I’m happy the size that I am.”

Keith felt like he could cry with relief, and he staggered towards the voices, having to hold onto some of the shelves to keep his balance. When neither Hunk nor Pidge noticed his presence at first, he cleared his throat a bit in an effort to get their attention. As they looked up Hunk rolled his eyes, and Pidge gave him a look of disdain. It seemed Lance had told them everything. “What do you want, Keith?” Pidge spat, not bothering to cover the bitterness in their voice. Now Keith felt like he was going to cry from their rejection, and he did so, unable to stop the flow of tears and subsequent stream of mucus from his nose due to his burgeoning fever and congestion.

Hunk’s entire demeanor changed, from exasperated by Keith’s presence to concerned. He reached towards Keith, whose entire body was shaking as he rubbed at his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears, and pulled him to his chest, feeling the heat radiating from Keith’s smaller form, and noticing that his hair was damp.

“Did you walk here?”

“Y-yes… I kdew you add Pidge had class so I tried to ask Ladce for a ride, but he said do add accused be of fakigg beigg sick… I’b out of food add tissues add medicide…”

“Pidge, get his basket and finish getting the stuff. I’m going to take him back to his apartment and I want you to meet us there as soon as possible. He needs to get some medicine, but right now I want him warm and hydrated.”

Pidge saluted and raced off, peeps completely forgotten. Their friend needed them.

Hunk picked Keith up, frowning at how light he was. Sure, Hunk wouldn’t have a problem lifting Keith on a good day, but he was definitely lighter than normal.

“When’s the last time you ate anything?” He murmured to Keith, trying to keep as much of the smaller man’s body shielded from the wind as he could.

“Umb… I ate a little bit of toast od Tuesday. That’s whed I rad out of food…”

Hunk frowned again, it was Thursday. Why on Earth didn’t Keith ask for help sooner? Then he remembered the look of hatred on Pidge’s face from earlier. Keith must have known that Hunk and Pidge would take Lance’s side—they had been friends for many years. Keith had only joined the group about a year prior. Keith still felt like an outsider, too scared of rejection to ask for help.

Keith shuddered in his arms with a sob, murmuring a jumble of words, mostly apologies.

Hunk just held him tighter and pressed on, thankful when he saw Keith’s building coming up. He didn’t bother saying hello to any of his friends that he passed in the lobby, only offering them a halfhearted nod of acknowledgement. When he got to Keith’s room he set the shivering man on the couch while he went to check the bedroom. The sheets were in disarray, just as he’d expected. Probably sweaty from his fever as well. He stripped the bed and was gathering a clean change of clothes for Keith when he heard Pidge enter the apartment. Their light footsteps moved toward the kitchen and Hunk made out the clink of a glass as they filled it with water. He smiled to himself, remembering how tender Pidge could be when they wanted to, and how docile and submissive Keith got when sick. That is probably what happened with Lance—it was a one-sided argument, with Keith just taking the insults, not fighting back at all. Lance should have noticed, but he was so dense and selfish at times. Pidge entered the bathroom, noting the nearly empty roll of toilet paper and nearly full wastebasket. They deduced that Keith must have been trying to keep the apartment as clean as possible just in case Lance decided to pay a visit… It saddened them to think about it. Besides Shiro, Lance was the closest thing Keith had to family, and having him freak out and leave was probably the reason Keith had gotten himself so sick.

Hunk made his way back to the couch, gently stripping Keith and redressing him, the smaller man had fallen into an anxious state of half-sleep, sweat dripping down his forehead. Hunk wiped it away with the small cloth Pidge had gotten from the bathroom, along with the thermometer, which he stuck into the sleeping man’s mouth. 102.7… That was not ideal. Keith startled awake when he heard the thermometer beeping.

“Mmb? What tibe is it?”

“5 o’clock. You need to go back to sleep, Keith. You’re really sick.”

Pidge whispered, trying to push him back into a reclining position.

“Wait! I deed to go to the club… Ladce said he was goigg there add I kdow the odly way he’ll forgive be is if I go bake a scede for hib. He loves it whed I get protective.”

Hunk frowned, knowing that even if he and Pidge were to say no, Keith would find a way to escape them and go anyway, and there was no use in him passing out on the street somewhere. He and Pidge exchanged an exasperated look, and Pidge turned toward Keith, trying to calm his nerves.

“Fine, Hunk and I are going to help you get to the club and win Lance back, but remember, Lance doesn’t ever go out before 9, so could you please just rest until 8?”

“Seved.”

“7:30.”

“Fide. But I have to be bore presedtable thad I ab dow…”

“We’ll help you get ready, but for now I need you to sleep.”

Keith muttered something about not being a child, but allowed himself to be carried to his newly-clean bed, and snuggled under the comforter. Hunk and Pidge set about the apartment, alternating between fretting about how they were going to help Keith, and checking up on him every half hour.

When 7:30 came, Hunk went into Keith’s room and gently shook him awake.

His eyes fluttered open and he immediately wrenched his body away from Hunk to begin coughing into the crook of his arm. Hunk then helped him out of bed and towards the already-running shower. The steam helped clear his sinuses, but he kept having to— “NGHchshtt’UH! Hhp’NGSTTue! Hh! Huhh’MNPtshh! AahtCHTSShyew! Hh’CHTSshuh! HuhNGTChuh! HP’NGKshh!”—do that… After a fairly lengthy coughing fit, he decided he’d stayed in the delightfully warm spray for far too long, and reluctantly shut off the water. After getting his hair dry and semi-presentable, Keith stumbled out into his room, shivering at the wave of cold air that hit him when he emerged from the steaminess of the bathroom. He slowly got dressed in one of his nicer sweaters, hoping beyond hope that Lance wasn’t expecting him to go all out on his outfit. He allowed Hunk to fuss over him, and wrap him in about five extra layers on top of the sweater, groaning when he realized they were going to have to walk to the club. He leaned heavily on Hunk the entire walk. After what felt like an eternity they finally reached the club, and Hunk promised he’d be right outside chatting with the bouncer, as Hunk was wont to do, as opposed to going in with Keith and Pidge. Pidge allowed Keith to hold onto their arm for a little support, but they both knew Pidge would never be able to hold Keith if he passed out. Keith squinted through the haziness of the club, or maybe that was from his fever, and tried to find Lance. He finally saw the tall man grinding on someone that looked a whole lot like Keith, but he was a lot taller. Great. This probably meant Lance would want Keith to fight for him if the man challenged him and, based on how drunk the other guy was, he probably would. Keith was in no state to do that, but he’d have to try anyway.

“Hey!” He coughed a bit to clear his voice, “Lance! Come on. We’re going home!”

He choked out, before trying to look as tough as possible in his unsteady walk towards Lance, whose face fell when he saw the feverish flush high on Keith’s cheekbones, and heard the congestion in his voice. Lance tried to intervene, but the man had already heard what Keith said.

“Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing with my man, punk?” The other man was slightly older, and he puffed up his chest, cracking his knuckles. As Keith dodged the first swing from the larger man’s fist, he saw Pidge run outside to get Hunk, thank goodness. For now he just had to survive. His movements were sluggish, and he soon took a hit to the face. His nose started to bleed, a mixture of blood and mucus now running down his face, he swiped at it with his sweater-clad arm and then nimbly swept the other man off of his feet with his leg just as Hunk and Pidge came in with the bouncer. Hunk caught Keith, who was now panting, as he stumbled towards Lance, then fell. Lance just stood there in awe for a moment, before scurrying after Hunk and Pidge, who were leaving, casting angry glares at him in the process. “Wait up you guys! Please!”

The normally fifteen-minute walk was cut in half as Hunk and Pidge raced to get Keith in bed as soon as possible, he was really burning up.

“What’s going on? Is Keith okay? Wait a minute…did he put you up to this? I bet he did! He’s probably faking! Keith, you prick. Why won’t you just tell the truth? Is that so freaking hard?” “Lance. I am really not in the mood for your dramatic shit right now. Keith is really, really sick and you just keep pushing him away. He asked you for a favor earlier, and a good boyfriend would have realized that he only does that if he really needs it. Pidge and I found him half-conscious, stumbling around the grocery store trying to get food and medicine after walking all the way there in the cold.”

Lance was speechless. How could he have forgotten? It was true, Keith would only ask him for a favor if it was important… Like not having any food or medicine in the house and a burgeoning fever to boot. Lance was left to his guilty thoughts as Hunk and Pidge set about the apartment, gathering things for Keith. Lance settled next to his shivering boyfriend on the bed in an effort to share some of his warmth with him. Lance didn’t deserve such a wonderful boyfriend in his life, and yet here he was. If he’d even take Lance back after this. He could have died tonight, so Lance wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to take a break. He was pulled from his thoughts by Pidge shoving him away from Keith. “If you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, why don’t you start making up for being an asshole by helping us get him healthy? Or are you really that selfish?” Hunk took a thermometer and stuck it in Keith’s mouth, frowning when he saw the numbers. “104.6. We should take him to the hospital—”

“Do! Please… Do hospitals, Hudk.” Keith burst out, tears forming in his fever-bright eyes.

Lance cringed at Keith’s destroyed voice, trying in vain to calm down his panicky boyfriend.

“Hhah… Heh-Nngx! ETCHSSHHH! Hh’tchiu! Hhah…. hhh… nn… n-no, get aw— hhih – HITCHEW! Hiih’Nkxshh!” Lance rubbed slow circles on Keith’s back as he sneezed exhaustedly into his forearm, frowning when Keith pulled away from him again, fresh tears beginning to pour from his eyes as some sort of realization dawned on him.

“H-Hih.... Hih’gTSXtchh-!!”

Lance offered tissues, but Keith tried in vain to pull away from his now-frantic boyfriend, sobbing into his pillow with snot running down his face.

Hunk stepped forward and forced Keith into his arms, slowly and calmly shushing him while petting his sweaty hair, “What’s wrong, buddy? What can I get you?”

“Hic- L-ladce w-was right!”

“What was Lance right about, Keith?”

“B-by fabily! All I do is hurt adyode who could possibly love be… By real bob got addicted to drugs after I was bord. I watched her die. She cobbitted suicide id frodt of be! She hated be! Add Shiro’s paredts… They were so kide to be… They didd’t deserve to die like that. They were od their way to get be frob subber cabp whed the sebi hit theb. Add if they hadd’t adopted be Shiro would still have his arb… What if sobethigg happeds to Ladce, or you or Pidge—”

He began to sob again, breaking off into a violent fit of coughing, Hunk pressed a wad of tissues to his friend’s mouth, frowning when he pulled them away and saw blood. Hunk had been in the nursing program for a hot minute before discovering that his true passion was engineering, so he knew that coughing up a bit of blood was normal if the throat was irritated enough, but if that got any worse they would be going to the hospital whether Keith wanted to or not. For the time being he settled for gently laying the now-dozing Keith back down and tucking him in, grabbing Lance by the arm roughly and dragging him to Keith’s living room where a pissed-off Pidge sat, having heard everything.

“I called Shiro.” Was all they said, glaring at Lance, then at the wall when he tried to garner some form of sympathy from them.

But what really scared him was what Hunk said next...

“I’m calling your mom, Lance.”

Dun dun DUN

I’m seriously so lazy I can’t even be bothered to come up with a semi-satisfying end to part 1??? Oh well!

#I'm a lazy mofo #happy birthday anyway Keith #sneezing #sick keith #sickfic #sneezefic #college au #Aa writes

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offbeatmusicuk · 4 years

Text

Albums Of 2019

Here we go again. Another pretty strong year. Full disclosure I haven’t had as much time to listen to these albums this year as usual so my mind may be changed (possibly immediately) but here’s my list as it stands at the mo.

Before that though... an honourable mention of an album which I decided wasn’t eligible for the list because technically it’s a soundtrack album, even though it sounds like a new album from the band, and a strong addition to their discography....

Biffy Clyro “Balance, Not Symmetry”

And now the bonus 30 albums that didn’t quite make the top 50 but couldn’t go unmentioned.

Lindsay Schoolcraft / Sigrid / Talla 2XLC / Ladytron / The Anix / While She Sleeps / Calva Louise / HANA / Ivy Crown / Lacuna Coil / Hante. / Puppy / Stanton Warriors / Moonlight Haze / Perfect Son

Idiot Pilot / Port Noir / Above & Beyond / Eat Your Heart Out / Potty Mouth / Lupa J / Papa Roach / Starkill / IAMWARFACE / The Anix / MC Lars & Mega Ran / Snow Ghosts / J Majik / Estiva / GIRLI

And now the big five-oh

50.

Dinosaur Pile-Up “Celebrity Mansions”

Dinosaur Pile-Up have been gaining praise for their 4th album, and it’s not hard to see why. Spikey, catchy rock and punk, about touring the USA, some sounding like Foo Fighters’ heavier moments. Fun stuff.

49. Foals “Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost Part 1″

The experimental indie band released 2 albums in 2019, both parts of the same project, and though Part 2 certainly has merit, and a few cracking tracks, Part 1 is the more consistent, full of varied and surprising music.

48. Forever Still “Breathe In Colours”

The Danish hard rockers fronted by Maja Shining, deliver their 2nd album of aggressive, melodic rock and alternative metal.

https://foreverstill.bandcamp.com/album/breathe-in-colours

47. Cold Kingdom “Into The Black Sky”

Debut album from the Minneapolis hard rockers, their first release with new singer Elissa Pearson.

https://coldkingdom.bandcamp.com/album/into-the-black-sky

46. Hatchie “Keepsake”

Aussie Hatchie brings us her debut album of shoegaze-y, shimmery, dreamy, electronic indie-pop. One to float away with.

https://hatchie.bandcamp.com/album/keepsake

45. UNKLE “The Road Part II / Lost Highway”

A serious case of double album syndrome with this one. Disc 1, aside from a weak cover of a terrible song as its last track, is absolutely amazing, and if it was released like that it would be top 10 for sure. But the whole thing has to be considered and disc 2, though far from bad, is just a bit dull, especially comparatively.

44. Doll Skin “Love Is Dead And We Killed Her”

The ladies from Phoenix are back with their new album, once again a great collection of catchy, upbeat, alternative rock and punk.

43.

Only Shadows “Brothers”

Epic, catchy indie rock. They are very American sounding but they come from Nuneaton. Good stuff though.

42. Driftmoon “Remember The Night”

Though it is a live recording of a DJ set, Driftmoon insists that this is his third artist album. Fair enough - it is all his music, though there are many collabs and his remix of John O’Callaghan & Audrey Gallagher’s classic “Big Sky”, but aside from an instrumental version of a track that featured on his last album “Invictus” it’s all previously unreleased. He wanted to switch it up and make the ‘live performance’ the first way these tracks were heard. And like many a DJ set, more often than an album, the biggest and best tracks are in the last third of the album, and there are some mammoth tunes here.

41.

The High Priest “Dream American”

Formerly of excellent bands Diphonia, Global Police Force and Dark Science, The High Priest continues his solo journey with his new album. And it’s a good ‘un. His website describes it best - “Dark brooding sonic rock music and atmospheric soundscapes”. Class.

40. Feeder “Tallulah”

Feeder’s tenth album continues their run of quality records. It’s no wild departure, but you’ll like it if you’re a fan. “Fear Of Flying” stands up against many of their classic tunes.

39. Furious Monkey House “Love, Scum & Dust”

Spanish indie-rock young-uns Furious Monkey House release their 2nd album. And it’s an excellent collection of catchy upbeat tunes, mostly in English but with some native Spanish in there too. Great stuff.

38. Nemesea “White Flag”

5th album from the Dutch band. They’ve moved through symphonic metal and gothic rock in their career, and this album includes a handful of the best songs they’ve ever done.

https://nemesea.bandcamp.com/album/white-flag

37. Fever 333 “Strength In Numb333rs”

Agressive rap-metal, with massive riffs and huge melodic choruses. Touches of electronics and Trap are dotted throughout. Sounds like the middle ground between Rage Against The Machine and early Linkin Park.

36.

The Dark Element “Songs The Night Sings”

Former Nightwish vocalist Anette Olzon and her Dark Element partner Jani Liimatainen deliver their second album, and it’s another quality, catchy collection of symphonic metal tunes.

35. New Years Day “Unbreakable”

Huge, jittery riffage, paired with pop style songwriting and melodies, with powerful vocals. Reminiscent of “Blood” era In This Moment, but less sleazy.

34. Blood Red Shoes “Get Tragic”

Blood Red Shoes bring a new sound with their 5th album. More electronic, almost synth-pop, but still with a rock band at the core. Some of their most original and catchy tunes yet are included here.

33. Maraton “Meta”

The Bandcamp page describes this album perfectly - “MARATON pushes the boundaries between pop music and progressive rock, mixing machine like drums and roaring bass groundwork with shimmering guitars, ethereal keys and sacral vocal performance. The band has sought to create a style of music which combines the rhythmic heaviness from bands such as Mars Volta with the pop aesthetics of Muse.” Check them out.

https://maratonofnorway.bandcamp.com/releases

32. Ankor “White Dragon”

Accessible metal with a prog sensibility, the melodies are catchy, but musically it will keep you guessing throughout.

31.

Liquid “Spacemonkey”

Old school hardcore rave stylings from scene legend Liquid on his 3rd artist album. A breakbeat bounty.

30. As December Falls “As December Falls”

Straight to the point, catchy pop-punk from this Nottingham four-piece on their debut album. Fans of early Paramore, early Tonight Alive or We Are The In Crowd etc would do well to check this lot out.

29. Blink-182 “Nine”

2016′s “California”, the first album to feature Alkaline Trio’s Matt Skiba replacing original member Tom DeLonge, was a huge return to form for the band, and “Nine” continues the revitalised Blink with another massive collection of pop-punk tunes. They broaden their sound palette here too with sampled drum loops and heavier riffs in places.

28. Rebecca Lou “Bleed”

There’s a shoegaze-esque vibe to the production on this collection of raw, catchy, rock ‘n’ roll tunes from Denmark, and it gives just the edge of uniqueness that makes this album special.

https://rebeccalou.bandcamp.com/album/bleed

27. Sleep Token “Sundowning”

On paper Sleep Token, a mysterious, masked unit of unnamed musicians, who worship an ancient deity called “Sleep”, would make you think they made incredibly sinister black or doom metal. But that isn’t the case. There is a metal heaviness and some mountainous riffs, but only in parts - often kicking in as songs build to their climax. For the most part though they are bewitching soundscapes, often minimal, with huge melodic vocals, and electronic touches. Worship.

26. Within Temptation “Resist”

Less orchestras, more electronic touches and more influence from other styles of modern music, but still unmistakably a Within Temptation album, “Resist” brings the band back from the brink after some serious writers’ block almost ended them. Bombastic and revitalised.

25. Solarstone “...--”

The final part of Solarstone’s “One” album trilogy is once again an epic journey through his ‘pure trance’ sound.

24. We Are The Catalyst “Ephemeral”

Third album from the alternative-metal Swedes, full of huge choruses. Fans of accessible metal with melodic female vocals should check this out.

https://watcofficial.bandcamp.com/album/ephemeral

23. Lamb “The Secret Of Letting Go”

Five years on from their last, Lamb unleash their 7th album. Ethereal, magical, and special, as they do so well.

22. Polynation “Igneous”

A cinematic, sweeping, atmospheric album, blending many facets of dance music, ambient, techno, IDM. A wordless, groove laden, goosebump inducing journey.

21. Grum “Deep State”

Grum’s much delayed second album finally lands on Anjunabeats. It’s a kinetic mix of sounds incorporating trance, progressive and deep house elements, and creates some huge anthems. In particular the incredible “Stay”.

20. False Advertising “Brainfreeze”

Mancunian grunge / noise-pop trio deliver a fizzing album of 90s influenced rock. Cracking, energetic tunes throughout.

https://falseadvertising.bandcamp.com/album/brainfreeze

19. Cold Blue “Winter”

Slowly but surely building his status and honing his craft over the last decade or so, and in recent years gaining a reputation as one of the best producers in the trance scene, German Tobias Schuh finally unleashes his debut album. It is an epic, progressive journey through uplifting trance, slowly building and revealing its treasures, avoiding being too formulaic and predictable. One to get lost in.

18. R+ “The Last Summer”

Rollo returns, with a little help from his sister Dido, and long time production partner and Faithless teammate Sister Bliss, giving us a blissful, Balearic sounding album. The whole thing sounds like a love letter to Ibiza. Lovely.

17. Pumarosa “Devastation”

Pumarosa deliver their moody second album. A bit more electronic (with elements of trip-hop and drum & bass seeping in), a bit darker, still brilliantly adventurous. A very exciting band.

16. Luttrell “Into Clouds”

I’ve been following Eric Luttrell’s superb, progressive blend of deep house and melodic techno for a couple of years, and now he unleashes his debut album. It doesn’t disappoint. Widescreen, beautiful, upbeat, catchy and excellently produced.

15. The Beautiful Monument “I’m The Reaper”

The Aussie quartet deliver their second impressive long player. Huge riffs, huge drums, huge melodies, in their blend of post-hardcore, pop-punk and metal.

https://tbmofficial.bandcamp.com/album/im-the-reaper

14. The Thrillseekers present Hydra “Altered State”

Despite releasing his first music in 1999, and releasing a steady stream of singles since, Steve Helstrip only delivered his debut album as The Thrillseekers in 2016. For this, his 2nd opus, he's decided to release under his Hydra alias. And what a beauty it is. Mostly instrumental, apart from a new reworking of The Thrillseekers classic "The Last Time" with vocals from Fisher, it is a masterclass in sublime, chilled, Balearic trance. Reminiscent of the first couple of Chicane albums, and makes you feel like you are blissed out on a beautiful, sunny beach.

https://thethrillseekers.bandcamp.com/album/altered-state

13. Jimmy Eat World “Surviving”

"Surviving" is Jimmy Eat World's 10th album. There are little touches of an expansion to their sound, but if you are familiar with their brand of American rock, then you'll know pretty much what to expect. This is undoubtedly a Jimmy Eat World album. It is, however, a very, very good one. One of the strongest they've ever done in my opinion, probably only with "Bleed American" as any kind of competition.

12. Age Of Rampage “Empire City”

Age Of Rampage deliver a plethora of breakbeat stompers on their debut album. Their love for acts like The Prodigy would be evident even without the first track sampling a Keith Flint interview, but the old school is delivered with relish here. If you love 90s breakbeat acts such as The Prodigy, The Chemical Brothers, The Crystal Method, Freestylers etc, this is a very worthy listen. Such a shame Russian breakbeat label Criminal Tribe don't do physical releases.

https://criminaltribeltd.bandcamp.com/album/age-of-rampage-empire-city-ctr035-18032019

11. Hands Off Gretel “I Want The World”

Hands Off Gretel are an effervescent blend of punk and grunge, led by the fierce Lauren Tate. A love of 90s rock is evident. "I Want The World", their 2nd album, is packed full of killer tunes.

10. Dido “Still On My Mind”

I’ve loved Dido’s voice since the early days of Faithless, so when she started releasing her own music I’ve always liked it to varying degrees (loved some of it, some of it a bit meh). This is her best album since “No Angel” in my opinion. It’s chilled, ethereal, and rather beautiful, and has been one of my most listened to albums in 2019. The title track is absolutely one of my favourite tracks of the year. I’m surprised it is top 10, but it had to be.

9. Wislov “Madness From Paradise”

Kniteforce Records and their sister labels have been a driving force in the old-school hardcore (or ‘rave’ as many early 90s compilations would call it) revival. Most of their releases are new music, just done in the old style, with fresh touches. Wislov is one of, if not the, greatest talent in this scene, and after a bunch of EPs and a slew of great tunes, this debut album is unleashed. And it’s a cracker. If you love that old-school sound you will find much to love here.

8. HÆLOS “Any Random Kindness”

Mesmerising, utterly beautiful, electronic tunes, with lush vocals. Picking up where their 2016 debut album “Full Circle” left off, but stepping up a notch. There is a heavy rave influence, but this is definitely made for the post-party, the comedown, the chill out time, the blissed out euphoria after the full on euphoria. Every time I hear this album I discover something new, and love it more. Wonderful.

7. Yonaka “Don’t Wait ‘Til Tomorrow”

Yonaka may veer to the poppier end of alternative-rock, but they know how to write a hell of a tune. Many of them in fact. 11 feature here on their debut album, released after a string of quality EPs and singles got them some exposure over the last couple of years. Hooks aplenty, huge choruses, riffs and electronics.

6. Anavae “45″

Fans of Anavae have been waiting a long time for this. The debut album many thought may never come. 8 years on from their debut single and 7 years after their debut EP “Into The Aether”, and following a bunch of EPs and singles in the interim, it is finally here. And I’m sure very few will be left disappointed. Rebecca Need-Menear and Jamie Finch deliver a typically varied alternative-rock album, veering at times into poppier territory, and others into moody trip-hop-esque tracks. Other times they stick to simple, yet epic, rock tunes like on the massive “High”. If you don’t know this band, check them out.

5. Dream State “Primrose Path”

Dream State progress in sound and technical ability with each release. From 2015′s debut EP “Consequences”, through last year’s excellent “Recovery” EP to this, their debut album. And it’s a pretty epic affair. Chunky riffs, pounding drumming, powerful vocals (both in aggressive and melodic turns from CJ Gilpin) with a massive, widescreen feel to the production. The Welsh 4-piece are often classed as post-hardcore, but that is far too limiting a description for a band with such obvious ambition. Class.

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4. Machineheart “People Change”

Lush, shimmery, ethereal alt pop from this L.A. quartet fronted by the fabulous vocals of Stevie Scott. A cracking album from start to finish but a particular mention goes to upbeat (almost breakbeat styled) track "Overgrown" which is one of the best tracks I've heard all year. If you like bands like London Grammar or HÆLOS, give this album a spin.

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3. Black Futures “Never Not Nothing”

Black Futures are a genre meshing riot. They've been called "Anarchic Electro Psych Punk Noise", "industrial noise-punk" and label themselves as "Future Punk". They have the sensibilities of a punk band and a dance band simultaneously. There's Bobby Gillespie from Primal Scream guesting, as is rapper P.O.S. More than once have they been described as a mix of Death From Above 1979 & The Chemical Brothers. It's a future party, a post-apocalyptic riot. Give it a listen.

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2. Dallas Kalevala “Dallas Kalevala”

Dallas Kalevala hail from Finland and have been called fierce subarctic pop music. Whether they called themselves this I'm not sure. What it sounds like to me is a brilliant, varied pop album, slightly camp, with fantastic electronic production and some full on pounding dance beats. 9 brilliantly written tracks, that all sound different, but somehow sound like they come from the same band and belong together. There is a feeling Dallas Kalevala would be somewhat polarising. There's no way they'll be everyone's cup of tea (which suggests they are doing something right), but those that get them will love them a whole lot.

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1. The Chemical Brothers “No Geography”

To make their 9th album The Chemical Brothers returned to the equipment they used to make their first two albums. And though "No Geography" doesn't sound like "Exit Planet Dust" or "Dig Your Own Hole", it feels like them. Consequently it is arguably their best album since them, but it is definitely their best since 2002's "Come With Us". It feels a bit old school, but also fresh and new. Tracks flow into each other seamlessly making the album feel like a complete body of work rather than a collection of tracks, and it is utterly brilliant throughout. Joyous.

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Well there you go. I’ll leave you with the following, for your listening pleasure:

Spotify playlist - a countdown of the top 50 (50-1), minus a couple of things that aren’t on Spotify.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/05F3PPwKO7NkwpD4eTJBiP?si=O8bO2JYDSqa3Kz-SzQ8D4Q

And a YouTube playlist counting down 50-1, but a completely different tracklist to the Spotify playlist (and different vids for the top 5 than are embedded here).

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSWMYBJKcPo0tJGbPDFw8QAdZlb1BWj3H

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tileyarded-blog · 6 years

Text

TILEYARD EDUCATION IN CONVERSATION: Goetz Botzenhardt

New Post has been published on https://tileyardeducation.co.uk/tileyard-education-conversation-goetz-botzenhardt/

TILEYARD EDUCATION IN CONVERSATION: Goetz Botzenhardt

Justin spoke to the legendary producer Goetz Botzenhardt at his studio here at Tileyard. Goetz teamed up with Rollo Armstrong (Faithless) in the nineties and their collaboration led to many of the big dance records and remixes of the time. He went on to record and mix the first two highly acclaimed Faithless albums and then recorded Dido’s multi-platinum selling album ‘No Angel’. He has also produced artists such as Bjork, Craig David, Sugababes and many, many more.

Justin: Your career has been pretty incredible, so please start by telling us about how you got started and who you’ve worked with.

Goetz: “I came to London in 1989, went to college for a year and then started as an assistant at a recording studio by the name of Swanyard Studios, just behind Highbury Corner. We had two SSL rooms there, and a smaller studio as well. We did a lot of big records there, and that’s where I learned how to be an engineer. It was a different time then, we were working with magnetic tape, and it was quite an interesting time in music, it was just when dance music was getting really big, we were working with Technotronic, and Acid Jazz was really big as well, and The Young Disciples and Incognito and all those bands came and recorded there. My first big jump from being an assistant to being a proper engineer and a mixer was when I started working with Rollo Armstrong, and we started Faithless which was a studio project, and we made a few records and eventually made “Insomnia” there, which blew up big, and then Dido, Rollo’s sister, came along after that, and I worked with them for about six years and just made tonnes of dance records and remixes.”

Justin: Were you always into dance music or was it just the timing of when you entered the music industry?

Goetz: “It was just the timing, growing up in the 80s there was a lot of dance and house stuff came along, before that it was more band stuff which I also really liked. But it’s always easier to make your name with a new style of music, of you can still do indie etc. but there’s already a bunch of people who are really good at it who get all the big jobs, so you have to create something new and ride that wave. I liked the immediacy of dance records, where you get your track pressed up to an acetate and you hear it in a club a week later, but of course now the turnaround is even quicker. After that period I worked with Craig David and the Sugababes into the late nineties and early naughties.”

Justin: How does it feel to work with such big names?

Goetz: “You sort of get used to it, because I started in a big studio, there was a constant flow of big superstars coming through, like George Michael, it was just one famous person after the other, but they’re just people aren’t they… and most of them are okay.” **Laughs** “Well, it’s more the entourage or the hangers-on who might cause problems.”

Justin: So, what are you working on at the moment?

Goetz: “At the moment I’m mixing for a film with a composer called Anne Nikitin, who was here just a second ago, and it’s a film called American Animals.”

Justin: How do the skill-sets differ when mixing a dance track compared with a score for a film?

Goetz: “Well, the main difference is that you’re working with surround sound for the film, also you deliver everything in stems, so you have to make a big template in Pro Tools and everything runs through all these different busses so that the final mixers can do edits when they dub the film. Also with film work, if there’s a decent budget you always have big orchestral recordings which again is a huge track count. It’s nice because they always record them in nice studios, like Air Studios, where my management is based, or Abbey Road, they’re the two big London studios where the orchestras get recorded for films, and they sound amazing and they know what they’re doing so it’s not that hard to mix. Then also sometimes the recordings come from Eastern Europe when the money is tight.”

Justin: Is that quite common, to record stuff abroad?

Goetz: “Yeah, because it’s much cheaper, so they go to Slovakia, Prague or Budapest, and the quality is fine, they’re still good players but they find it harder to play to a click for the really exact stuff and that’s the main difference, really.”

Justin: So, do you do a lot of film work at the moment?

Goetz: “Yeah I do a lot film work these days. It’s nice to vary your work, as you get older, it’s nicer sometimes. Some of the music in the charts doesn’t excite me that much, with all the autotune on the vocals. You have to be in your early twenties or late teens to get into that. But I like some of the bub-step guys, like Skrillex, they make amazing music. When you watch Glastonbury on the TV you think, wow there’s still a lot of amazing music out there these days, there’s more music now being made than there’s ever been.”

Justin: So you think the industry’s doing well, is it still thriving?

Goetz: “Well I think there’s a huge problem in that the writers and producers don’t really get that much money any more. If you’re a live band you can still make decent money, but when I started working you could make a hit record and make some serious money with that but now you have to have a billion plays on Spotify to get any kind of money to make a living from. Some of the younger artists might get adverts and make money from that but they don’t make money from record sales. A lot of records don’t even get produced properly anymore, it’s just someone in Logic on their laptop, and they just knock something up. It’s much harder these days, which is one of the reasons I diversified into film music because they still get paid decent money.”

Justin: Do you think Spotify is a good thing overall, or is it an unfair system?

Goetz: “I think it’s quite unfair on the writers as far as I can tell, but the labels do okay but I don’t really agree with the distribution model. I don’t think it’s Spotify that’s the problem but more the labels dealing in what’s most advantageous to them and not to the artists or the writers but it’s difficult to see how we can change that, unless everybody goes on strike!” **Laughs**

Justin: You’ve got an amazing studio here at Tileyard, how long have you been based here and how did you originally hear about it?

Goetz: “I’ve been here for five and a half years, and I heard about it through some of the other composers like Dru Masters and Sam Sim, and I moved here with Christian Henson who runs Spitfire, I used to mix all of his stuff.”

Justin: What’s it like working at Tileyard?

Goetz: “It’s great, people like Nick and Michael do a great job of connecting everybody, and it’s really cool, I like it.”

Justin: Do you find that you can collaborate easily with people here?

Goetz: “Yeah absolutely, you meet new people, and the thing with working in this industry and being self employed, the more people you meet the better it is, and I don’t really go out to parties that much anymore, so here it’s great. If you have your own studio away from everybody it gets quite lonely.”

Justin: We encourage our students to attend the networking parties here, and to get involved. Would you say the networking aspect is very important?

Goetz: “It’s vital, yeah. The squeaky wheel gets the grease!”

Justin: And finally, what would your advice be to the students here looking to start their careers in the music industry?

Goetz: “Just be creative and make great music, and play your stuff to people, and push to get out there because you have to get noticed. You have to open the doors for yourself, it’s a very competitive industry, and at the end of the day if your music’s no good you’re not going to get anywhere, that’s what it all comes down to.”

Justin: Thanks very much for your time, and we look forward to your masterclass with us next week!

For more information about Goetz, go to: https://www.goetz-botzenhardt.com/

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