#already loved northern attitude before this too
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Love that Hozier is just kind of let loose to wail throughout Northern Attitude.
#love that for him#and for us#will never get over that man’s voice#already loved northern attitude before this too#Hozier#noah kahan#stick season
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𝐓𝐑𝐀 – FERMÍN LÓPEZ
summary. going clubbing doesn’t go as planned when your brother’s rival shows up to ruin the fun
warnings. fermín x paz!reader, f!oral, semi public s3x, fingering, & a cocky!fermín.
a/n. my brain worked overtime on this tbh. poor fran i completely slandered him in this. based off tra by bad gyal (catalan it girl)
the strobing lights were almost strong enough to blind you and half of the real madrid b squad. the dj seemed to be going through an existential crisis since he kept going back and forth between edm and reggaeton. you’re fortunate enough that he at least plays fiebre without remixing it or pausing it to try and drop a beat.
“joder.” your brother puffs clearly done with whoever he’s texting. (fuck.)
“is it the schedule?” you ask him wondering if this seasons schedule finally came out. it always got him worked up.
“no, this season seems like a good one. it’s just-” he sets his phone down before turning his head towards you.
“el boludo de agustin…” he takes a sip of his drink. he’s always been the most dramatic out of the two of you, clearly. (augustin’s dumbass.)
“nico, you already know that i’m not interested in him like that. he’s just my friend. ” you reassure him.
“no, i know and i don’t want to be an overbearing protective brother but mom would kill me if i let one of my teammates hurt you.” he sighs.
“nico i can take care of myself. don’t worry about me you’ve got a whole career ahead of you. focus on that instead.” you smile at him.
“i’m trying- joder” he scoffs again.
“now what?” you say concerned about the way his mood changed so quickly.
“look who just came in.” he nods towards the entrance.
you try to subtlety turn around but it’s almost impossible without doing a full 180 to see who your brother was talking about. your eyes immediately spot the three guys nico hated the most on the pitch. although out of all three of them only one stood out to you, fermín. you didn’t care for your brothers’ rivalries except for the one he had with the barcelona midfielder. not only did he bother nico but he bothered you as well. every time you were in barcelona he was always there with his annoying attitude.
“well, we are in their city.” you shrug trying to ignore their presence.
“there’s like a million other clubs here and out of all of them they arrive here it can’t be a coincidence.” he scoffs as if the three of the players had been following them.
“i’m not very fond of them either but you’re being ridiculous. we’re like ten minutes away from their training grounds i think it would be a coincidence that they’re here.” you explain logically.
“yeah what- you know what i’m just very stressed out about my whole nationality process right now. i’m gonna go get a drink. do you want anything?” he asks.
“no, it’s fine. just don’t indulge too much i do not want to take care of you again like in vigo.” you bring up the northern city into the conversation.
“you promised you wouldn’t bring that up again. that shit was so embarrassing.” he whines.
“i wasn’t the one who confessed their profound love for duki in his messages. i had to delete over ten voice notes of you singing, crying, and explaining why you’re better than emilia.” you burst out laughing.
“whatever, i’ll see you later.” he walked off.
you watched as your brother walked away either to find someone to flirt with or get another drink. he was the social sibling always outgoing and making friends as soon as he joined a new team. your house would always be full of people you hardly even knew. so you were surprised when his distaste for fermín began, your brother never held grudges. but then you met the devil himself and you realized why your brother disliked him.
he was arrogant, a total egomaniac, and an asshole. you remembered how nice he was to you when he first met you outside the stadium but as soon as he realized who’s sister you were he was always taunting you. you knew how serious rivalries were but you didn’t think it was that deep.
“hope your brother enjoyed my goal from the bench.” a voice interrupted your thoughts.
you look up to find him sitting in front of you replacing your brother. you’re studying his features when the chain around his neck distracts you. a cross. yet, he was somehow the worst person you knew. meanwhile, a smirk grows on his face as time passes and he realizes you’re not in a rush to get him to leave.
“milking a friendly today, are we?” you tease him.
“a friendly your brother spent at the bench the whole night.” he smirks.
“i’m starting to think you have a crush on my brother.” you laugh at him. “which probably explains why you always stalk my story every time we’re in town.”
“what are you talking about?” he scoffs at the accusation.
“felopez03? could you make it more obvious?” you manage to embarrass the barça player.
you had lied to your brother earlier. every time the two of you ran into fermín it was never a coincidence. you had debated on telling your brother about his secret admirer but quite frankly you loved the attention. you knew he always watched your stories when you were in town so you took advantage of that. posting pictures of yourself in short dresses, bikinis, and including some where the only thing covering your breasts were your hands. he always seemed to like those anyways.
“lópez is an extremely common last name.” he simply replies.
“good night fer.” you stood up and picked up your things.
“if you’re going to go like for your brother you won’t find him. saw him leave with a girl who looked very familiar. i think-” he paused debating on whether he should say what he was thinking. “i think i must’ve slept with her as well.”
you simply roll your eyes not wanting to be the victim of his ego. you check your phone and surely enough there’s a message from your brother. you can’t believe he’s left you alone with his teammates and the egomaniac to get laid.
nico 🐣: don’t wait up on me fran will take you home.
y/n: you left me alone to get laid? i hope she bites your dick off.
you shove your phone into your bag and begin looking around for fran. you spot the defender near the bar with a few of his teammates. you’ve avoided him for almost a month and the last thing you wanted tonight was to talk to him. the barça player seems to notice that too because as soon as you start walking towards fran he steps in front of you. you try to push him out of the way but he’s too strong.
“fer-” you sigh exhausted at his antics.
it all happens in a quick blur one minute you’re trying to shove fermin out of the way and the next you’re completely drenched in vodka. you’re not even sure how it happens but the girl in front of you is currently rambling about how sorry she was. you were a bit annoyed that the top you had just bought was now ruined but you could always borrow your brother’s card again.
“it’s okay. it’s fine don’t worry.” you try to calm her down because somehow she’s more upset about the situation than you are.
as soon as she leaves you head towards the bathroom hoping to dry off your shirt. you don’t realize that fermín has followed you into the bathroom until he shuts the door.
“what are you doing here?” you scoff.
“she spilled half of her drink on me too. must’ve tripped or something.” he murmured.
“and you came to dry your shirt in the women’s restroom?” you ask dumbfounded.
“well i can’t exact leave you alone in a bar full of strangers.” he shrugs.
“i know more than half of the people here.” you complain.
“yeah and they’re not exactly looking out for you. nico asked fran to take care of you and as far as i know he hasn’t come looking for you yet.” he bites back.
you murmur a quick ‘whatever’ before focusing on your top again. it’s completely wet from top to bottom so you have no other option but to take it off. you completely forget about fermín’s presence when you start walking around the restroom with your black lace bra and mini skirt. fermín tries his best to look away, to be respectful for once but you leave him in a trance. the view you give him is all too much and he decides to do something about it.
“here. it’s almost dry anyways.” he takes his shirt off and offers it to you.
your eyes linger on his toned body for too long you practically have to force yourself to look away. the dirty blonde finds himself smirking at your reaction. he walks closer to you hoping you’ll accept his peace offering. it begins to drive him mad how beautiful you look you in your current state. if he hadn’t been such a prick to you for the last couple of years maybe it’d be him taking you home and not fran. besides fran wouldn’t know what to do with all that.
you look at him again and throw your inhibitions out the window. your brother is the one who hates him on and off the pitch but not you. maybe just on the pitch but right now you were in a club bathroom without tops on. if your brother could have fun why couldn’t you?
“fer?” you turn around to look at him directly.
“hmm?” he puts his arm down realizing you won’t take his shirt.
“do you think i’m pretty?” you bat your eyelashes innocently.
he pauses not knowing how to respond. of course you looked pretty but he couldn’t exactly say that out loud. not if he wanted to keep up with the banter the two of you had. it would ruin the dynamic.
“it’s fine you don’t have to answer i’ll just go and ask fran.” you fake being upset and head for the door before fermín steps in front of you again.
“you can’t go out like that.” he panics.
“why? don’t you like my bra?” you tease him.
“joder tía pero tú estás loca.” he sighs frustrated. (fuck, you’re crazy.)
“i mean you’re the one who’s been liking all my stories. especially the ones where i leave little to the imagination.” you reach behind your back and unclasp your bra letting it hit the floor. you’re too far gone now. “you seem to really likes the ones where my breasts are showing though.”
he bites his lips trying to avoid his eyes from wondering. he can practically feel his pants getting tighter the closer you got to him. it was as if the room got smaller and ten times hotter. he’d always been so cocky with his hookups but you somehow made him lose his confidence. but then you said someone else’s name and he suddenly gained his ego back.
“do you think if i asked fran to fuck me he’d say yes?” was the question that threw him off.
his demeanor changed in an instant and suddenly he needed you right there in that bathroom. he knew you were probably just teasing him but he wasn’t going to lose you, not to fran at least.
“he’d probably finish in his pant just by seeing your tits and you’d go home upset.” you didn’t realize how much little space was left between the two of you until you saw both his arms on the sink. you were stuck between the sink and his shirtless body. “he’ll never satisfy you.”
“and you would?” you test his patience.
his hand finds its way onto your thigh and you realize you’ve finally gotten what you wanted. as your breath hitches his hand trails up and the look on his face proved he wanted this as much as you did. he pauses once he gets to your clothed core and looks up at you. you realize he’s asking for permission. you trail your hand down your body to where his hand is and carefully move your panties to the side.
“joder.” he groans at the sight. this is definitely not how he expected his night to go.
“fer.” you whine wanting him to touch you already.
his hands creeps up your throat you can feel his fingers getting closer to your lips. you know what he wants you to do so you open your mouth taking in two of his fingers. he watches intently as you suck on them making them wet enough to enter you. he takes a mental screenshot of you not wanting to forget about this moment. when you finally stop he places his fingers on your thigh again, teasing you. he’s gotten his ego back.
“fuck, you’re so wet.” he can feel the blood rushing to his dick as you you spread your legs for him.
you want to tell him to shut up and hurry up due to how needy you are but he finally drags his fingers over your core. a wave of pleasure rings through your body as he finally touches you. he circles your clit before dragging his fingers down to where you needed him the most. he enters you with one finger first thrusting it slowly letting you adjust. the room is filled with your incoherent moans and your acrylics dig into his free hand.
“oh, fuck.” is all you can say as he enters his second finger.
his thrusts begin to gain momentum as he sees how much you’re enjoying it. the feeling of having your walls squeeze his fingers is so surreal and he can’t resist the urge of reaching up to kiss you. the first kiss is long and sweet but as soon as you start kissing him back it gets heated. soon the kisses become short and needy and you can barely breathe between them. he grabs you by the hair pulling it to get better access to your neck and the pain turns into pleasure as he curls his fingers inside of you.
fermín expects you to tell him to not leave marks but you can’t help but want him to bite down on your neck. he leaves short peppered kisses on your neck before sucking and biting making sure that tomorrow you’ll have to hide your neck from your brother. he hears you panting and knows you’re getting close to coming undone. your hands run through his hair tugging on the strands as you get closer to your high.
and then suddenly you feel empty. his fingers are no longer thrusting inside of you and he pulls away from your lips. you’re about to yell at him when he kneels down in front of you and your eyes go wide. he spreads your legs further apart placing one on each shoulder. you can feel his breathe on your core and you’re not exactly sure you’re ready for what’s to happen. one lick is enough to make your head go back and your legs tremble.
his hold on your thighs get stronger and he dived in deeper. you pull on his hair harder each time he gets closer to your hole, clearly teasing you. he sucks on your clit and that’s enough to have you screaming out of pleasure. your moans are enough to raise his confidence and he brings his fingers back and enters you once again. his tongue and fingers are too much, he’s overstimulating you. you can feel your high approaching once again. this time he doesn’t stop he keeps going. he wants to see you reach your high.
“gonna cum all over my fingers?” he teases.
“fuck, yes.” you gasp barely having the strength to speak properly.
he somehow manages to go faster and you know you’re only a couple of thrusts away from cumming. then he adds in another finger and you’re a moaning mess. your juices squirt all over his fingers and pulls them out of you. he drags your fingers back towards your lips and you grant him access again. you lick them tasting yourself before he kisses you again. it’s a slow sensual kiss and then it happens you spot something moving in the background from the corner of your eye.
“fran.” you gasp at the sight of your brother teammates standing in the back shocked at the scene he walked into.
“what?” fermín pulls away confused at the sudden burst of fran’s name. that’s when he spots fran in the mirror and instead of being ashamed he can’t help but smirk.
that is until you push him off of you and fix yourself. you grab fermín’s shirt without a second thought and fix your skirt embarrassed about being caught and by fran of all people. fran’s disappointment is visible but you really don’t care about his feelings at the moment but rather about whether or not he’ll tell your brother.
“my shirt!” fermín yells.
“you’re a man you can walk around without a shirt.” you say as you get your purse from the sink.
fran walks out not wanting to witness more of what he’s already seen. you have no choice but to follow him since he was your designated driver for the night. but once again fermín steps in front of you and stops you from leaving. he leans down and kisses you and you can’t help but kiss him back.
“next time leave the bodyguard at home.” is all he tells you before stepping aside letting you leave.
that night you fell asleep in his shirt. you’re definitely looking forward to the next game your brother has in barcelona.
#i want him now#fermin lopez x reader#fermin lopez smut#fermin lopez imagine#football smut#football imagine#gabri writes#request
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LYRIC SENTENCE STARTERS
all lyrics have been taken from my favorite matt nathanson and noah kahan songs
i am not scared of death, i’ve got dreams again.
it’s just me and the curve of the valley.
a minute from home but i feel so far from it.
it’s all washing over me, i’m angry again.
the car’s in reverse. i’m gripping the wheel.
i’m back between villages and everything’s still.
the things that i lost here, the people i knew. they’ve got me surrounded for a mile or two.
my whole life’s a movie, if movies made you want to jump off a bridge.
i’ve got one who moves me and one who sees through me and all i really want is a kiss.
i was born three thousand miles from where i came alive.
and i left without saying a word to start a new life.
i spent my whole damn life just trying to hide.
you can change every inch of your life, but you’re still just a boy.
i’m mean because i grew up in new england.
i’ve got dreams but i can’t make myself believe them.
i was only kidding when i said i liked a fight.
i was only kind of kidding when i said i liked a fight.
but sometimes you’ve got to start them yourself.
i had a dream you died.
what kind of man misunderstands a woman like you?
i’m the last of the worst pretenders.
i got tired of the frat boys with the brights on.
but it’s all we’ve had for always.
we’ll all be here forever.
we spent july in a berkeley basement.
there was so much i didn’t believe in and then there was you.
no one cares about the stories they’re not in.
we’ll fade out to whispers.
there’s no nostalgia here, it’s just now.
i was a fire that you started.
for once i knew everything that i wanted.
for a minute there, we were perfect.
we made the beautiful people wanna be like us.
some heart’s gotta break to let the light in.
i loved you even before i knew what love was.
everything else felt so unimportant back in your boston bed.
when you think about it i hope you blush just a little bit.
all the best parts still move me.
i could’ve powered the city every time that you kissed me.
we looked good back then.
just between you and me, part of me will always be in love.
we’re better off, no doubt.
what’s it matter now?
if i get too close and i’m not how you hoped, forgive my northern attitude.
i was raised out in the cold.
i was raised on little light.
i don’t miss you. i miss the way you made me feel.
and if i died tomorrow, would you feel me?
and you were only a minute of my time.
even through the pain, i can’t recall your face.
just the ache of knowing everything was gonna change.
got so close to love with you.
i know that the moment i chase is a race i’ve already lost.
it’s long ago.
you were only a break from the fear of being alone.
but i’m sure feeling the ache is better than nothing at all.
i know it gets hard just to breathe sometimes.
it’s the way she walks, the way she talks.
you and my imagination.
there was heaven in your eyes.
everything’s alright when she calls me back.
don’t you hold your head up high.
for bullshit, i do not have time.
and i do not exist to die. but live to die while saving you.
and i don’t get much sleep most nights.
i’m seeing you in every dream.
i was too afraid of living life in your footsteps.
i’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them.
but i ignore things and i move sideways.
at the end of the day, i know there are worse ways to stay alive.
i’m terrified that i might never have met me.
if my engine works perfect on empty, i guess i’ll drive.
it’s better to die numb than to feel it all.
and if all my life was wasted, i don’t mind. i’ll watch it go.
you were right.
i’m just a stubborn fool who’s living in the past.
i got a king sized bed and phd and the way it used to be.
the devil is in the details. he and i get on real good.
i’ve got a love that comes in colors.
i had a head full of tangles.
i had my heart full of splinters.
and you came around to save me.
now i drop to hold you.
grew up believing love was a grudge and home was a place you lived with your guard up.
people keep saying memories fade. mine are all drunk and they just keep calling.
the past is a long distance runner and i’m falling further and further behind.
takes me forever and ever to see the good in the people who see the good in me.
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Thinking thinking thinking about Nancy Wheeler breaking down to Northern Attitude because she doesn’t know how to show her emotions and her love for Robin, and she can feel her usual walls breaking down. She’s so so scared to be herself, to be vulnerable with this girl because what if Robin doesn’t like the girl behind the mask, the broken, terrified girl, so scared to let anyone love her in case she loses them. So she cries about it in her bedroom while Northern Attitude is blasting in her earbuds.
Thinking about how Robin sneaks up to her window that night and knocks to be let in, nearly breaking everything in the process. Thinking about how Robin sees the tears on Nancy’s face and softens immediately, laying crosswise on the bed with her and asking softly if she can listen too.
Thinking about how Robin hears the song, the melancholy tune, the lyrics, heart wrenchingly beautiful, but that’s not what she focuses on—she’s not hearing a song. She’s hearing Nancy. She’s hearing Nancy’s fears expressed in the form of music, and it breaks her, just a little, to think that this is how Nancy feels. So she scoots closer, presses a hand to Nancy’s cheek, wipes away her tears.
She smiles, presses her forehead to Nancy’s, listening as the song comes to an end before looping back—Nancy’s had it on repeat for hours. Thinking about her looking deep into Nancy’s eyes, those little chips of sapphire, navy pools that brim with every emotion the girl cannot express.
“It’s okay, Nance,” she’ll murmur. “You aren’t what I was expecting,” she’ll admit, and Nancy’s expression will crack—something fragile already crumbling at the edges. “But you’re so wonderful, Nancy. I love you. All of you.”
And fuck, if Nancy isn’t sobbing then. Robin pulls her close to her chest, kisses her forehead, tells her it will be okay. She whispers, in the softest voice she can muster, brimming with adoration for Nancy Wheeler—her Nancy Wheeler—as she whispers, breath warm against the girl’s ear, “I love your Northern attitude.”
#IM NOT OKAY#THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING TO ME#it’s so Nancy Wheeler coded#I won’t be argued with#I just#I just had thoughts#gonna cry about it#ronance#Robin Buckley#Nancy Wheeler#robin x nancy#nancy x robin#lo’s music thoughts#stick season ronance
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I'm really glad you're enjoying the lockwood and co books and series so far!! they're very special books to me and my friends, i remember reading them when i was 16 and absolutely adoring them, they;re just SO GOOD.
one thing i've really enjoyed about the series is the very clear depictions of issues of class and worker's rights, and its one reason i want to reread the books again, because those just went completely over my head as a kid and i want to see how the series and books depictions differ. jonathan stroud had a very close hand in the production of the series so im curious to see how his now 10 year old books and attitudes in them hold up. Anyway, i was curious if that was something that was also as obvious to you as it was to me? my mum's English and i grew up with a kind of baseline understanding of english class struggles (despite the fact that she's from the south and grew up relatively rich) and the attitudes in England surrounding worker's rights and unions and so on, so its always interesting me to see how other people see these issues and how they're presented in media.
for example i absolutely love the casting choices of all the main characters, i think they really perfectly exemplify the struggles portrayed in the books that something as big as The Problem would affect on all working levels, including the class of children which honestly i find is a class of people that goes overlooked a Lot in stories, or at least in the way jonathan stroud does it. Lucy and lockwood are both excellently portrayed i think, and their intrinsic struggles to connect and attitudes are products of their upbringings and backgrounds and i think the series does an excellent job of portraying that (as much as I can say this without revealing spoilers hgjkfdls), with lucy being a northern working class girl from a poor family and lockwood, despite not having a close family, being raised objectively middle class and having relatives who go hunting.
anyway its!!! very good!!! i think the series is a fantastically faithful adaptation of the themes and ideas of the books so far, and also almost every setting looks EXACTLY how i pictured it which makes me absolutely feral hjgfkdsl
but yes idk if this makes much sense but aaahh I'm glad you're enjoying it all!! i really can't wait to see what you think of the second book and the rest of the series!!
also cos im curious: did you read the book before watching the series? and if not, do you think the series holds up as a story in its own right without needing the background of the books to watch it? cos while i think it's a brilliant adaptation I'm wondering how well it plays out as a story on its own without having to read the books first
I'm delighted at how many Lockwood & Co. fans there are, I’d never heard of the books before the Netflix adaptation, but it seems like there’s a bunch of you! It’s lovely to be able to discuss things already even if I’m not sure I’ll have a lot to add just yet, since I’m only on episode 5 of the adaptation and halfway through the first book.
(I didn’t want to burn through the episodes too quickly because it’s such a charming series, so I decided to switch back and forth between them and the books, which helps keep my memory fresh of the show when I read the books, so I can take note of the differences. There are some differences, but ones that generally seem like really good ideas for a TV series adaptation, like I already like the tweaking of George’s character and I really loved the Norrie backstory.)
I don’t know that I would have clocked the class theme on my own--but I’m not that far into any of it yet, though, I know how the first book turns out, of course--I can’t say that I felt it was necessarily a strong theme in the adaptation in the sense that it was driving the plot, but it is very much there, Lucy’s character is very much that of a working class type of character. And, when you mentioned it, I can pick up on it in the book as well, especially as I’m just getting to the introduction of John Fairfax commissioning the team for a case.
I’m also not sure where I’m going to land on the aspect of having children with so much more autonomy given to them, like the scene where Barnes comes by and they’re just totally blase about how he’s trying to tell them to be careful, openly laughing about how worked up he seems after he leaves, just struck me as very “this is a series aimed at young readers so it’s going to have young kids as protagonists, it’s not meant to be taken super seriously as commentary on 15 year olds being allowed to run their own agencies”, but other times the consistency (and Barnes’ comments from the adaptation) of how characters who have faded talent are treated make me think that, once you get a bit outside Lucy’s perspective, that maybe there is something to the idea that there’s commentary on these kids having this tremendous burden placed on them.
Right now, the concept of adult supervision seems to be set up as an obstacle to be overcome, that Lockwood & Co. are freedom because they refuse to work with adults, but how much of that is because of course they would think that? Lucy’s whole backstory is that she never had parents who took care of her or were involved in her life, just punished her and used her for her talent, so of course she’d view them that way.
Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting further in so that I’m not just half-baking my thoughts on the themes and might actually have stronger views on things! And as long as people avoid spoilers, I would love to hear commentary on what kind of themes to be watching for!
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my favorite line in each song on noah kahan's stick season (we'll all be here forever)
this will be long so i am just putting it all under the cut <33 if you haven't, you should listen to stick season by noah kahan btw
Northern Attitude
"Forgive my northern attitude, oh, I was raised on little light."
Stick Season
"And I'll dream each night of some version of you
That I might not have, but I did not lose."
honestly really hard to narrow it down for this one because i love so many lines in this long... "I'm no longer funny cause I miss the way you laugh" is another one i really like.
All My Love
"Now I know your name, but not who you are."
(runner-up: "If you need me, dear, I'm the same as I was" )
this is one of my favorite songs on the album in general because it's just so... relatable, idk. like this is a song about a past relationship but it makes me think about the friends i lost touch with after i graduated high school. makes me emo.
She Calls Me Back
"I still dial 822-993-167"
the pre-chorus just tickles my brain... i enjoy it a lot but specifically this line. idk man. otherwise i don't have like strong emotions tied to this song or anything but i do like it.
"Oh, there was heaven in your eyes. I was not baptized" is also good though... really love the way he sings it too
Come Over
"Someday I'm gonna be somebody people want"
New Perspective
"You and all of your new perspective now
Wish I could shut it in a closet
And drag you back down"
Everywhere, Everything
"Everywhere, everything, I wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat"
Orange Juice
"Are we all just crows to you now?"
there are so many parts of this song that i absolutely adore... it's so hard to pick one. the post-chorus is genuinely incredible. my favorite part of the song.
Strawberry Wine
"No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft"
Growing Sideways
"I'm terrified that I might never have met me."
Halloween
"But the wreckage of you, I no longer reside in
And the bridges have long since been burnt"
Homesick
"I got dreams, but I can't make myself believe them.
Spend the rest of my life with what could have been
And I will die in the house that I grew up in"
as i've said before.... this song seems to perfectly sum up what being in your 20s is like lmao. (it's very much about growing up in new england but it's also so 'what being in your 20s is like' to me)
Still
"You miss something that you can't place but you can't deny it"
The View Between Villages
"The things that I lost here, the people I knew
They got me surrounded for a mile or two."
The View Between Villages (extended) <- technically the last song on the album but i'm putting it here so it goes with the original
"I'm back between villages and everything's still"
okay i was going to pick a lyric that was unique to the extended version but i couldn't. i just love this one, i have to represent it.
Your Needs, My Needs
"I'm naming the stars in the sky after you"
however, the bridge is also INCREDIBLE and perhaps my favorite part but i don't want to just write the entirety of it. and i think what makes it my favorite is less the lyrics and just the way he sings it and the way it... intensifies and gets louder?? idk. but it makes me crazy.
Dial Drunk
"'Son are you a danger to yourself?'
Fuck that sir, just let me call"
another one where the bridge is my favorite part of the song and i didn't want to just write the entirety of it lol. this line IS from the bridge though
Paul Revere
"And the world makes sense behind a chain-link fence
If I could leave, I would have already left"
No Complaints
"Yes, I'm young and living dreams
In love with being noticed and afraid of being seen"
Call Your Mom
"I'll drive, I'll drive all night
I'll call your mom"
once again, the bridge is the best part of the song imo but this line gets to me too. this whole song makes me tear up though... had to force myself not to cry one time when it came on while i was in the car with my dad.
You're Gonna Go Far
"We ain't angry at you, love
You're the greatest thing we lost"
this is the hinata shouyou song to me... so ofc this is my favorite line. <33 i think about him and karasuno whenever i listen to it and it makes me so so so emo, i want to cry. hinata fans gather and listen to this song.
also have recently started appreciating "Making quiet calculations where the fault lies"... makes me think about a certain ship that i'm sure you will never be able to guess [sarcasm] <- world's most predictable girl
#music tag#posts to read and albums to listen to if you want to understand me As A Person#hyperbole but like. several of these songs make me go OUGH because they're relatable
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ok for the character ask game, you already know I have Meneldir on the brain today, sooooo.... thoughts? 👀 (also if OCs are fair game, I would Love to hear more about Est :unlessranger:)
:D i'm always down to ramble about est lol
hm. meneldir's gonna go under a cut tho on account of before the spoilers i think
est:
one aspect about them i love: she is friend shaped <3 she is also allergic to chill most of the time
one aspect i wish more people understood about them: hmm. i don't really know honestly? the one thing i've really ever run into like that is 'oh, is she in love?' which. i can look at what i wrote for her and go 'yeah alright, that's a perfectly reasonable way to read that, but no, she's not In Love' but even that's like. i get it? it's perfectly rational? idk
one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: she used to hang out with the lake-spirit of the long lake. she decided she really liked zhelruka food in the grey mountains. she's aroace & in a qpr. she really hates having her hair long (Feels Bad on the back of her neck) despite the prevailing elf attitudes around long hair in a lot of places. she spent a few centuries just kinda wandering; she was up and down the northern anduin a lot, and may have ended up farther east at some point too (i don't know all the details here yet). she is fully willing to use runecraft for stupid things despite how seriously people take it, and this has in fact been encouraged in her by a few people (talagan, but lowkey, and also probably gandalf 'aren't fireworks awesome?' the grey)
one character i love seeing them interact with: oh hm. it's very funny every time she talks to viznak, bc he'll just say things and she just goes '......sure! why not.' she makes a genuine effort to have Cook Opinions on his various swamp brews. she thinks the entire situation is very weird, but on a scale from ???? to Actively Trying To Kill Us, she's pretty much fine with it
one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: you'd think i'd have more control over this one, considering she's my character, but! it's grimbold. she felt bad about how the aftermath of troubled dreams went, and after awhile she could look at her talk with him and go 'oh! yeah so he was doing as bad as i was after all that', and she always meant to talk to him about it, especially once everyone else was getting mad on her behalf over it, but it just never ended up happening. she still feels bad about that
also i wish she would tell me a little more about her relationship with her father, but she emphatically Does Not Want To
one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: oh i guess i already had some of these. oh well. post-black book (and gundabad/return to carn dum? idk, i don't know when i'm gonna cut off her doing the epics), she starts doing some Actual Combat Training, bc she never really did any of that, and her primary weapon of Zap Them can only take her so far, especially when she's supposed to be on stealth missions lmao. anyway, she learns some dagger things from faeron. she does a little bit of archery with radanir, but it never really ends up being her Thing
meneldir:
one aspect about them i love: he wants! to help! he really really does! enough that he's willing to go back to people he has no reason to expect a warm welcome from!
one aspect i wish more people understood about them: hmmm... in world or out of world lol.
one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: well! tossdir is still just. permanently attached lol. i think meneldir has picked up way more trivia about the history of cardolan from narndir than he admits. he likes spicy food but doesn't have a super high spice tolerance. i also think he would be a fan of barbecue (there is absolutely no reason for this one lol)
one character i love seeing them interact with: Meneldir squints at Bregoleth. 'Sometimes Elves have trouble marking the passage of the years. I mean no offence.' i think he and bregoleth should hang out more
one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: narndir!!
one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: there are some half-formed thoughts about who might have been in that house he was supposed to watch, and if halbarad might have been related to them and/or meneldir, and just how much of his insistence on trusting this rando adventurer and barely even looking at meneldir was personal vs just the result of having one of his worst weeks ever so far. i haven't worked all my thoughts on it out yet, but there is. soup
#ask games#est#really i think est's relationship with her dad was fine she just. does not want to talk about it#mostly i think she's kinda upset with him for leaving/sailing but she really doesn't Want to be so she just avoids it#like she Knows or convinces herself that it's perfectly fine for him to go and that sometimes it's genuinely for the best#but her feelings on it won't agree#and she knows eventually that she's not going to see him again so she tries not to be upset over something that can't be changed#this goes as well as Ignoring The Problem ever goes#meneldir thoughts delayed by one- repeatedly having to go 'you can't put tossdir on his wiki page' at myself and two- still#still haven't picked/made an oc for before the shadow or honestly even decided if i'm going to#tossdir gets to join bregelian and elegys on the list of 'guys i genuinely keep forgetting aren't canon' lmao#meneldir
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Northern Attitude Ch 9
“Me too.” She breathed and he looked up at her, her pulse already fluttering under his palm. She shifted above him, moving her legs to bring her hips into better alignment with his. Mac kissed him as her weight settled onto him, making him groan into her mouth, tugging on the base of her braid again. His hands were slow, making a meal out of getting her free from her cardigan and tracing the shape of her body under her shirt. She broke away from his mouth with a gasp when he tweaked her nipples, making her back arch. Logan used the opportunity to tug her shirt over her head, throwing it without looking. She looked down at his intense face, his palms cupping her breasts, her bra tugged low. His eyes were locked on her dusky pink nipples, inches from his face. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed and his mouth wrapped around one tightened bud, her palm instantly cupping the back of his head to keep him close. He groaned against her skin, the sound and vibration making her nerve endings sing. He leaned back, releasing her hard nipple with a pop and undid her bra, tugging the useless fabric from her body and throwing it in the same vague direction as the rest of her clothes. She bit her lip as his eyes stayed locked on her tits and tugged on his hair hard enough to finally break his concentration, the pale ring of blue nearly obliterated by the dilated black of his pupils.
Northern Attitude (48110 words) by Ad_nauseum
Chapters: 9/?
Fandom: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel (Comics)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Logan (X-Men)/Original Female Character, Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Laura Barton
Characters: Logan (X-Men), James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Hank McCoy, Bruce Banner, Charles Xavier, Kurt Wagner, Pepper Potts, Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Matt Murdock, Nick Fury
Additional Tags: no beta we die like women, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Needs Therapy, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Avengers Compound, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Captain America Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Protective Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Frenemies Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson is not here for your shit, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Alcoholic OFC, Depression, Suicide Attempt, Canada Olympic Women's Hockey Team Ensemble, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Feels, Genius Tony Stark, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Sassy Steve Rogers, Logan is a Softie (X-Men), Protective Logan (X-Men), martial arts master Logan, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Original Character(s), X-Men References, Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, SHIP DARCY LEWIS WITH ALL THE THINGS, Therapist Sam Wilson, I'll Probably Keep Adding Tags, Medical Doctor Hank McCoy, Mental Health Issues, Logan has forgotten more about combat than you'll ever know, Logan in love is a dangerous man, hello unstoppable force, meet immovable object, Hockey, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Spy Natasha Romanov, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs
Series: Part 3 of The Labyrinth Song
Summary:
As former Olympian Mackenzie Drouin tries to navigate life as a new amputee, her freshly minted boyfriend is reluctantly drawn into another intrigue. With the Winter Solider needing intervention before being cleared for field work again, the Avengers are down not one, but multiple members. They turn to Logan for help in filling the gap - only to have things go even further off the rails when worlds collide.
#a03 fic#a03 writer#sometimes i write things#smutty things#escapism#fictional men are better#i have lost control of my life#this stupid fic kept me alive in 2023#logan howlett#am I doing tagging right?#dialogue is my favourite#smut#smut is fun too#wolverine
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I AM A DERRY GIRL!
I make mistakes, please embrace me with the excuse of youth – iKON
Being young feels so liberating, right? Youth tends to give a person a special kind of power which makes one feel like anything is possible. But the truth is, you are not powerful, you just feel like it – especially when you are a teenager. Teenagers tend to feel like the whole world is theirs to conquer and I like that kind of attitude because it reminds me of hope. And, I was once like that. As a teenager, I was filled with a crazy sense of optimism that I, together with the rest of my generation, can make this world better. During my teen years, I feel as if every single opinion I can formulate is important and I demand to be heard. But sometimes, that is all there is – passion, optimism, and youthfulness, and then you become an adult. And you realized that things in life are never easy and will never be. And sometimes it is okay not to become that achiever that you wanted to be because not everyone can. Our teen years is a special phase in our life meant for us to discover who we want to be and whether you left your teen years a winner or a loser, it is fine because somehow those years of your life contributed to shaping who you are. You may not know everything as a teenager but it does not mean that you know nothing. And that is why I love the Derry Girls; this sitcom was able to show a more accurate depiction of teenagers while being educational about the troubles in the 90s Northern Ireland (well, that is the case for me as I am from Asia and before watching this show, I have no idea about what happened to their country so I find this show educational as well as eye opening). Also, Derry Girls’ humor is top notch.
Derry Girls is a mini-series/sitcom on Netflix that follows the life of five teenagers from Derry: the cousins Erin and Orla, Michelle and her British cousin James, and Claire during the latter years of The Troubles. And while their country is experiencing unrest due to decades of conflicts, life goes on for them. Life goes on because the kind of environment they live in has forced them to pursue a different kind of normalcy for them to survive. Raids, bombings, presence of military – all of these tend to become just a normal part of their lives and for ordinary teenagers like our Derry Girls (and a wee English lad), you really have no other choice but to just get the bloody hell on with it and live your life. Because sometimes that is just how you survive, right? When there are so many things happening around you, there are also a lot of things you are fighting within you, inside of you, especially when you are a teenager. When you are a teenager, you are in that phase of discovering your identity and it helps having people around you who are also experiencing the same thing. There is a unique sense of solidarity when you go on a journey of discovery together with the people you can relate to the most. And as Claire said it, "Well I am not being individual on me own"
I used to think that for a series to be successful, it must have many seasons so the characters and the plot would have a great development. However, years of binge-watching different series made me think otherwise. Sometimes, the longer the series, the duller it gets. So, when I watched Derry Girls and saw that it only has 3 seasons and a total of 19 episodes, I really do not know what to expect. I feel like it would be too short and I will not be able to feel some attachment with the characters but I am happy that I was wrong. First episode of this show and I already know that I am going to love it and I did! I love how the characters were introduced and how the plot develops. And I love how this one does not need an over-the-top plot line to follow and yet it will get you hooked. As mentioned earlier, Derry Girls follows the story of the five teenagers from Londonderry. They are all studying at an all-girls Catholic school and as they begin a new semester, the squad of four girls became a 5-member squad when Michelle’s cousin, James, moved to Derry from England. He was enrolled at the same school despite being a boy for safety reasons (he is an English fella so they think it is not safe for him to enroll to an all-boys school). What I love the most about their squad is that all of them are ordinary teenagers; no one is an over achiever genius or a popular kid or a member of a varsity team or a stereotypical version of a school outcast that we usually see in most teen series or movies. The kids are just ordinary teenagers dealing with usual teenager stuff like crushes, home works, teachers, parents, self-esteem, and dreams. And that is when I feel that this show would mean a lot to me.
Cliques tend to be more popular in school set up, right? Especially during high school years. Cliques like popular kids, nerds, athletes, and outcasts are seem to be a normal scenario in most schools. But what about those who do not really have a clique? Yes, there are people like me who tend to not belong to any of those cliques but it also does not make me an outcast (I hope I am able to word this out properly, sorry English is not my first language). That is where Derry Girls enters. These are the kids who are just ordinary but their struggles should not be undermined. One of my favorite episodes from this series is when they all stayed up all night to study for their test and yet they did not even study enough because most of the time that is what happens when teenagers do a sleepover to study but time is not on their side. It even got to a point when they thought they saw an apparition and used it as an excuse to not take the exam. Another episode that I like is from the pilot when they get detention for attempted bullying. What sent them into detention is when they wanted to act tough but failed to do so, hence it was not bullying but just attempted bullying lol. (Bonus part: I love how the younger kid, Tina, stood up to them and the whole, “Do I have to accept their apology?” thing haha just brilliant scene execution). Also, another episode that I like is when they sneak out to watch a concert only for them to end up in the same bus as Sister Michael. And in writing this blog post, I cannot help but have some internal debate with myself as to what episode from this series stand out the most because I feel like each episode is brilliant on its own. I have watched all 3 seasons of this show twice and now I am slowly realizing that I can see pieces of myself in those 5 kids and I guess anyone who will watch this show would too.
The five Derry Girls (yes, because even the English fella is a DERRY GIRL!) are Erin, Orla, Claire, Michelle, and James. Their parents are also classmates when they were young so the connection is deep among them (of course aside from the fact that Erin and Orla are cousins as well as Michelle and James). Erin is the ambitious kid who is passionate about writing and sometimes a bit too self-righteous. Her cousin Orla on the other hand is eccentric yet confident in her own skin. Claire is the voice of reason but most of the time the anxiety manifestation of the group. She is also the studious one in the group. Michelle is the wild child of the group. Often, she puts everyone in trouble. And then there’s James the wee English fella. Despite the feelings of disdain (for lack of better words) towards him because he’s English, James is a respectful, kind, and reliable friend. In the typical high school themed series or movies, these characters would become as follows: Erin the editor in chief of the school’s paper, Claire the valedictorian and would go to Harvard or Yale, Orla the weirdo, Michelle the hot and popular kid, and James the famous transferee. But thankfully, they were not written that way. And that is what makes the show relatable. I love the way the series has shown the ordinary life of middle-class teenagers – both the struggle and fun of being one. And while not everything can go exactly like you wanted to, it is okay because that is how life should be. Life is all about trying despite losing. You cannot always win but you can always try again. That is my main takeaway from this show. We have our youth to make mistakes and learn from it. But we also have our youth to have fun and discover who we are – the identity, potential, and dreams in life. Let me end this blog post by sharing one of my favorite lines from the series, this one’s from Erin: And if our dreams get broken along the way….we have to make new ones from the pieces.
x,
TinaMae
PS I am definitely an Orla with Claire’s anxiety and Erin’s passion with a side of Michelle’s IDGAF attitude and a sprinkler of James’ friendliness. I guess it is safe to say that I am also a Derry Girl?
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Sandor Clegane X Reader (Your secret sworn shield)
Thank you to @1ofjokersgoons for the request
A/N: here you go hope you enjoy it. This my mind to all kinds of places so sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted.
Master list
Word count: 1,787
Warnings: Swearing, fighting
Your nose burned in the frigid air, and you squinted against the sun reflecting off of the armed men around you.
The cold wasn't something you were used to. Hells, you'd only ever seen snow twice in your life and you weren't exactly fond of it then either. Thankfully It was the summer when your father roped your family into his campaign across Westeros.
"You can always ride with your Mother of you're cold, princess, " Your father said in a mocking tone as he rode beside you.
"I'd rather lose a hand to frostbite," You chuckled, adjusting your position on the saddle.
You were the eldest of the Baratheon brood and the jewel of Roberts eye. Unlike your siblings, there was no mistaking you were your fathers daughter. You had the looks and grace of your mother, yes, but you also had the attitude, appetite for fighting and signature brown/black hair of a Baratheon.
" And father please don't call me princess. You know how much I hate it,"
"Ah but that's the issue young lady, you ARE a princess and I want you to act like one. When we're at home you can come on hunts and roam about all you like, but not here. At Winterfell you need to put on those dresses you hate so much and you will watch your tongue in front of the Starks. Am I clear?"
Your jaw clenched in frustration. Your father had been saying this for the past week in not no nice ways but you understood full well why. One reason being that he was the only one you'd listen to. The second was that since you were born a girl, the Iron throne could never be yours. Your place as the eldest princess was to be wedded off to whomever your father deemed worthy of you, and thankfully (since the king held you in such high regard) that day was long overdue.
"Fine... But I want Clegane."
"The Hound? What need do you have of him?"
"If you want me to be a lady I will, but if I get attacked I can't protect myself properly while wearing heels and a bloody corset. I need a shield."
Another chuckle left your father. This time it wasn't out of cheer it was more in amusement.
"Ay you have the mind of a Lannister"
"One of the few good things that family gave me," you smiled.
When you got to Winterfell later that day it was a relief, to say the least. As much as you enjoyed the outdoors and hunting around the red keep, the warmth the castle provided was a godsend. It seemed like everyone from the north had arrived to catch a glimpse of your family but it's not like it was hard to miss. Your mother and siblings wore the bold Lannister red and their heir shone as brightly as the gold they mined. Your uncle Jamie in the white armour of the kings guard and you in the Baratheon colours, sat on your horse, taking it all in.
As you were getting ready for the feast a knock was heard on your chamber door. An audible gasp was heard from your chamber made then they saw the hound lumber into the room and holt at seeing you.
You were stood there in a long, (Favourite colour) dress with long sleeves and a matching cloak. Your hair had been styled the northern way, simple yet elegant. The southern styles were too fiddly for your taste.
"Ladies, you are dismissed" you said.
The women immediately scurried out of the door and shut it behind them with a heavy thunk. You smiled as you watched the man search the room for any threats or anyone that could eavesdrop. When he deemed it safe he was the one that spoke first.
"You wanted me, you got me. For the whole week"
"You're making it sound like a bad thing, my love"
"It is if I can't keep my hands off of you" he growled and pulled your hips to kiss you roughly.
You were 10 when Joffrey was born and he was more of a disappointment to you than anything else. He was brash, rude, inconsiderate, boorish, egotistical and above all a coward. If someone. When he was younger hed always be at your heels, annoying you to no end and constantly tried to get you in trouble (The keyword being tried) and since Sandor's purpose was to protect the future king, he was with you too. You ended up becoming his babysitter and whenever you were training the boy would shout and say nasty thing to make you lose your concentration. One day you had, had enough of his heckles and asked him to spar with you. However, instead of being a man and doing it himself, he sent his dog to do it for him.
"Clegane isn't always going to be with you little brother and neither will anyone else if you don't lose that sour attitude. So be a man, and spar with me yourself."
It was the way you said it that shook Clegane. He expected you to lose your rag or just leave the training area all together but instead, you talked like you would a scared child. Calm and collected yet firm. As expected Joffery took the challenge, lost and then whined about it like the boy he was.
You parted from the kiss with a cheeky grin as you held his neck in your hands, making him shiver.
"You've controlled yourself before Sandor, and you can do it again,"
"You put far too much trust in me Princess"
"No Sandor I put all of my trust in you. and don't call me princess."
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Two days had passed since the feast and you didn't like who you pretended to be. You didn't like the dress or hair or corset but it kept your parents off of your scent for a while. A couple of times you were able to sneak off with Sandor and do your own thing and since you were there to keep up appearances, you weren't missed.
One evening as you were walking across the courtyard, you heard a scuffle coming from behind the stables. You were met with a fully stocked armoury and training area. The walls were lined with a variety of weapons, from knives and slingshots to swards and axes. You reached your gloved hand towards a sword a sudden voice made you jump.
"Be careful, your grace. They're sharp"
It was one of the Stark boys. He was on the older side, about the same age as you may be a tad bit younger. Admittedly you'd been too caught up in being with Sandor that you hadn't taken the time to know your hosts.
"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you, your grace,"
"Don't worry about it... um... sorry I'm so bad with names" You said to the black-haired boy.
"Robb Stark, your grace," He answered kissing your hand.
A deep growl came from behind you, and an amused smile crossed your face. Sandor knew full well the boy was just being polite but he felt protective of you regardless.
"and please be careful around the swords they are sharp. We can't have a lady hurting her self,"
The tone Robb used was like he was talking to a child that couldn't tell the difference between a knife and a toothpick. Sandor picked up on it too. He knew what you were going to do before you did.
From what the boy had said he wasn't aware of your training, nor your personality in general and a fake, sheepish, smile spread across your face.
"Well I have had a little bit of training in how to fight but since I came to Winterfell I've forgotten most of it... you look like you know a few things do you mind catching me up?" You said, acting naive and from the look Robb gave you, it worked like a charm.
Robb agreed to "help" you and took you into the training area. He introduced you to Theon Greyjoy and his half brother Jon Snow.
Sandor watched as you continued your act with an almost invisible smile. Whenever you were in the Red Keep you were a completely different person, you were you but god's did he find that facade entertaining.
By that point, Rob had shown you how to hold a sword, jab and do a couple of swings and before you knew it you were going to spar.
"Are you ready, your grace?"
"I'm a little scared" you answered in fake concern.
"Don't worry your highness, I'll take it easy on you"
You could hear the boys chuckle in the corner of the arena and you knew they were laughing at you... or at least Greyjoy was. Sandor had taken it upon himself to stand by the pair and tell them to hush and watch the show.
The second Robb called "go" you swiped his legs out from under him, knocking him flat on his ass.
"Oh sorry," you snickered "I did tell you I had some training didn't I?"
The Stark stood up and brushed himself off. "Its alright princess, let's go again shall we?"
Almost immediately he lunged at you again, that time you blocked his sword with yours and then knocked him down.
Round after round Robb lost and each time your smile grew. By the tenth round, Robb had finished "Taking it easy" on you and you were completely fine with that, If he wanted to hurt you he would have done it already. It was all in good fun and after one more knockdown, Robb yielded.
"Nice skills Stark, your father should be proud" You said as you walked up to him and extended your hand to pull him up.
With a smirk, he grabbed your hand. "Likewise your majesty. Although you could have told me before I made a fool of myself"
"Aww and wheres the fun in that?" You said handing the boy the practice sword. "Its been a pleasure Lord Stark that was quite entertaining, but I must bid you good night."
As you walked to the exit of the arena you saw Theon and Jon looking at you gobsmacked.
"Have a good evening Gentlemen." you bowed to the 3 of them and they bowed back.
Many, hot, steamy, lustful kisses were exchanged that night. Not out of jealousy or anger or hatred, but out of pure infatuation. After a particularly long kiss, he rested his forehead against yours.
"Do you know what you did today?"
"No."
"You made me fall in love with you,"
#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones#sandor clegane x reader#sandor clegane#sandor x reader#sandor clegane x you#sandor the hound clegane#sandor clegane deserves the world#the hound x reader
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everything happens for a reason part 7 - zuko x fem!reader
I think my ways are wearing me down
part 6 | masterlist | part 8
a/n: as said very astutely in my outline, "y/n just keeps taking L's"
i actually had to take breaks while writing the final scene and watching the episode LMAo i forgot how fucking sad this scene was!!
warning(s): you know what happens in this chapter. its siege of the north part 2. its so much more angst like SO MUCH ANGST. im so sorry i got so sad while writing this
wc: 4.0k
chapter title comes from brand new city by mitski!
Y/N adjusted her hold on the basket of clothes as she knocked on the door with her free hand, pushing it open after waiting a few moments.
“Prince Zuko?” she called in a whisper. They had gotten past the point of formalities, but it was a precaution she opted to take when they met like this. She spotted him sitting on his bed and he gave her a thumbs up, a sign she took to mean they were in the clear. Y/N closed the door behind her and bounded over, then set the basket on his bed.
“Alright. I brought you the book that you wanted to borrow.” She unearthed the novel from the pile of clothes with caution, taking care to not ruin the hard work that went into folding all of them. “I had to hide it so I could get in here — no one thinks anything of a servant bringing clothes around, but books are a little more suspicious. But here you go! My very own edition of ‘Keiko and the Koalaotter’.”
“Thank you!” The prince grinned as he took the book and examined the cover. “I’ve always been curious about Water Tribe culture, even more after you started teaching me about it. They don’t really tell us about it in our classes.”
“It’s not really accurate to actual Water Tribe stuff, but it is cute,” she laughed. “I remember begging my parents for a koalaotter for weeks after I finished it. They told me that there was no way to get one all the way in the Earth Kingdom, but I never listened to them.”
“Oh, that reminds me!” His eyes lit up as he ran over to the windowsill. “I got you a gift too!”
“Zuko, really? You shouldn’t have.”
“Well, I did. So don’t even think about not accepting it,” he joked. He picked something up from a vase and bounded back over, doing as good a job of hiding the flowers behind his back as his excited grin.
“What is it?” she questioned.
“They’re silver wisterias!” he exclaimed as he presented the bouquet. “They grow in the palace gardens. They’re really pretty, and so are you, and I know how much you love the gardens, so I thought you’d like it.”
She felt her cheeks heat up when she accepted the gift, twirling the stem in her fingers as she inhaled its sweet scent with a smile. “That’s really thoughtful of you, Zuko. Thank you.”
“Of course! You could wear one in your hair, pin one onto your uniform, put them in your room, whatever you want.”
As she carefully ran her fingers over the petals, she couldn’t stop the nagging question at the back of her mind from escaping.
“Why are you so nice to me?” she blurted out, causing Zuko’s brows to furrow in confusion.
“Because you’re my friend. Friends are nice to each other.”
“I know, but why are we friends?” she pushed. “You know that you could get in trouble for talking to me like this, but you still do it. Why?”
He pondered the question for a moment before he answered. “Well.. you don’t treat me like everyone else. I’m the prince, so everyone here has to do what I want and be nice to me. But you’re not like that. When it’s just the two of us, you treat me like anyone else, and I like that — I know that you always mean what you say, so when you’re nice to me I know it’s because you like me, not because you have to be. Why do you do that?” the prince asked as he turned the tables. “You know that you could get in trouble for talking to me like this, but you still do it. Why?”
She punched him playfully on the shoulder and giggled. “Someone’s gotta keep you humble.”
His cheeks flushed a bright red as he rubbed his arm shyly. “I’m really glad we’re friends. Sometimes it feels like you’re my only one in this whole nation.”
“So am I,” she beamed. “Always and forever, right?”
“Right.”
-
Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she gasped, immediately whipping her head around frantically to see if the Avatar was still there, but Katara shook her head.
“He’s gone,” Katara said miserably, confirming her suspicions. “I woke up a few minutes before you and I checked everywhere.”
“Great,” she muttered. She rubbed the back of her head and winced — she had a feeling she would be plagued by headaches for at least the next couple of days.
“So…” Katara began. “You and Zuko both recognized each other. He— he said he thought that you were dead.”
Y/N pursed her lips, wondering how to start that story, when Sokka and Yue burst into the oasis on Appa.
“What happened?” he questioned. “Where’s Zuko?”
“He took Aang,” Katara mourned. “He took him right out from under me.”
“It’s not your fault, Katara,” Y/N insisted. “It really looks like he’s improved since… since last time.”
“‘Last time’?” Sokka asked, prompting a sigh from Y/N. She looked to Yue for help, and the princess nodded supportively.
“We have… history.” She looked at her hands for a moment before continuing. “I’m not from the Northern Water Tribe. My mother is, but I was born in a small village in the Earth Kingdom. I told you that my village was invaded, Katara, but after it, my mother and I were captured for being waterbenders, and they took us to the Fire Nation to work as healers and servants in the palace.”
“I became friends with Zuko there. He was nothing like you saw today, or like anything you know from the past. He was kind, and caring, and passionate, and he made my dismal life a little bit brighter. And… we ended up falling for each other.”
“We went too far, the Fire Lord found out, and— well, he was going to kill me. My mother managed to get me out, but she stayed behind, and I haven’t seen her since that night. I haven’t seen Zuko since that night. I always held hope that I would find my way back and see them both again, but now that Zuko is like… like that?” She bit down on her lip and shook her head.
“Now I don’t know what to think. He’s completely different than anything I knew, than the boy that I fell in love with. And I can’t help but think about what happened to my mother if that is what happened to Zuko.” And I can’t help but think that it’s my fault for not being there for him.
A collective silence hung in the air for just a moment before Sokka broke it. “You had a thing with Zuko?”
Y/N let out a surprised laugh as Katara hit him on the shoulder. “Sokka, now is not the time!”
“No,” she chuckled. “No, it’s alright. It’s a lot, I know. It’s just… impossible. That the Zuko I knew turned into someone like this. I mean, you saw, Katara— he didn’t even hesitate to try and hurt me.”
Katara pulled her into a warm embrace before separating and looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N, for all that you’ve been through. And I know that fighting against Zuko hurts, so if you can’t come after Aang with us then I completely understand—”
“No,” she said once more, something hardening in her eyes. “I’ll help you find Aang, it’s the least I can do. Besides, I… I have to see him again. I have to see him again to know that this is actually real, that— that this is actually who he is now.”
Katara nodded solemnly; Sokka had already started walking back to Appa with Yue. “Well, Zuko couldn’t have gotten far. We’ll find him — Aang’s gonna be fine.”
Katara looked back hopefully at Y/N and she met her eyes with a smile, though slightly strained, as she jogged to catch up with them. But as she climbed onto Appa with her fellow waterbender, the anger in his eyes was all she could see.
The boy she fought might’ve been the Fire Prince, but it was not her Zuko.
-
Cold.
That was all Zuko seemed to know as he trekked through the frozen tundra, the blizzard around him threatening to end him at any moment. No more had he despised the Water Tribes than he did in this moment, but the weight of the Avatar on his back and the promise of his honor was enough to push him onwards.
The only thing on his mind that he couldn’t shake was her.
Zuko thought she was dead, honestly and truly. Few were lucky enough to escape his father’s wrath once it was incurred upon them — Zuko himself wasn’t even an exception — and though he wanted nothing more than for her to be one of the few, he knew that she was dead. There was no other explanation.
For years, the waterbender had been a staple in his mind — a memory of a childhood love, of a better time. He thought about her when he fought against his soldiers on slow evenings on the ship, her words of encouragement and joking retorts echoing through his ears as he went through every form. He thought about her when he talked to his uncle, his attitude often mirroring hers. The morning of the Agni Kai, he almost turned to her for reassurance before remembering.
Spirits, Zuko thought about her every time he looked at the water. And even all these years after her disappearance, he was still plagued by nightmares of her fate.
He had resigned himself to mourning her. Zuko truly thought she was dead.
But there she was, in the flesh, with the Avatar and his friends. Breathing. Alive. His enemy.
How the fuck was he supposed to deal with that?
She was even more beautiful than he remembered, but it was obvious the years since her escape had weathered her. He noticed a certain emptiness in her eyes, the brightness from their childhood a distant memory. It was obvious she had grown — she carried a certain elegance that he didn’t remember, and her skill in waterbending had improved so much since the days of their sparring sessions.
It felt like he had betrayed her. The expression she wore after his first blast was like a physical weight, the guilt of broken promises heavy over his head when he struck the final blow. So familiar to their friendly fights, yet such a far cry.
But they weren’t kids anymore. She had changed, and so had he.
It had been years. Any feelings he still harbored for her didn’t matter anymore.
Zuko had a mission, and he was going to complete it no matter what.
-
The tundra was treacherous, the blizzard making it difficult to see anything at all. Y/N had taken to holding Yue’s hand, something the princess had offered when she had seen how restless her friend was, as well as gnawing on the bottom of her lip. She feared for both Zuko and Aang, and she could only hope that they would be able to find them before something happened to either of them.
“Don’t worry,” the princess reassured. “Prince Zuko can’t be getting too far in this weather.”
“I’m not worried they’ll get away in the blizzard,” Katara murmured. “I’m worried that they won’t.”
“They’re not gonna die in this blizzard,” Sokka said as he gripped the reins tighter. “If we know anything, it’s that Zuko never gives up.”
Y/N chuckled softly and nodded. “You’ve got that right.”
Yue gave her hand a squeeze and a small smile, a sentiment that Y/N returned as Sokka continued. “They’ll survive, and we’ll find them.”
It took a few more minutes of riding and searching, but eventually a bright blue light streaked through the air. Katara gasped and pointed up. “Look!” she exclaimed. “That’s gotta be Aang! Yip yip!”
Appa groaned once more and Sokka turned to follow the light — it had stopped in a small cove before glowing brilliantly then disappearing — and sure enough, Zuko and Aang were down in the snow.
“Appa!” he cheered as they landed, causing Zuko’s eyes to flick up too. Y/N met his gaze for just a moment before he broke it, throwing Aang to the side and easing into a bending stance as Katara slid off of Appa’s back.
“Here for a rematch?” Zuko challenged, the undeserved confidence he spoke with a glimpse of the past.
“Trust me, Zuko,” Katara countered as she raised her hands, “It’s not going to be much of a match.”
She blocked his fire blast then sent a current of snow at him, launching him up into the air on a frozen column before letting him fall to the ground and knocking him out. Y/N couldn’t help but wince, and as Sokka jumped down to free Aang, she slid down as well.
She ran over the pile of snow and bent it off of Zuko, then knelt down next to him and pulled off her glove. She put two fingers on his neck and confirmed what she already thought, but it was still a relief. He was alive, but he wouldn’t be for much longer if he stayed out here.
“What are you doing?” she heard Sokka yell. Y/N turned to find everyone back on Appa already, staring expectantly at her.
“We can’t leave him!” Y/N protested.
“Sure we can!” he countered. “Now come on, let’s go!”
“No,” she insisted, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. It was ice cold. “If we leave him, he’ll die!”
“She’s right.” Aang airbended himself off of Appa and helped her pick up Zuko; Aang bringing himself and the prince back onto the bison with his element and Y/N climbing back up with a hand from Katara.
Sokka rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let’s bring the guy who’s constantly trying to kill us.”
Y/N ignored the remark and met Aang’s eyes, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’. He smiled and nodded, then grabbed the reins and took off.
As they flew through the sky, Y/N glanced down at Zuko. He looked so much more peaceful now than a few moments ago, his features relaxed rather than tense. It was strange seeing him like this after all these years; angry, scarred, changed. Nothing like the reunion she had imagined.
She bent some of the snow falling down into water and molded it over the cuts on his face, the element taking on a slight glow as she started to heal him.
“Oh, Zuko,” she murmured. “What happened in those four years?”
As if her concentration had broken, the water previously under her control lost both its shape and glow as it pooled on his face. She frowned and attempted to bend it off, but none of the usual power she felt at night was flowing through her veins.
It was at that moment that Y/N looked up and noticed her surroundings.
Everything was cloaked in a veil of red, a crimson moon their backdrop as they continued through the air. “My bending isn’t working,” Y/N muttered, earning a curious look from Katara.
And to make matters worse, Yue winced and held her head, Aang doing the same.
“Are you okay?” Sokka questioned as he reached out to comfort her.
“I feel faint,” she muttered, the effort it took not lost on Y/N.
“I feel it too.” Aang pressed his palm against the side of his head and grimaced as his gaze shifted upwards. “The Moon Spirit is in trouble.”
Y/N’s eyes widened immediately as they flicked towards Yue, the princess choosing not to meet them as she began to tell them all the story of her birth and how she owed the Moon Spirit her life. By the time she was done the Water Tribe siblings were staring at her with disbelief, but there was no time for questions as they flew into the Spirit Oasis.
The sight that awaited them shocked Y/N to her core. A Fire Nation admiral — one she recognized from all the years ago, yet unable to place a name — held a bag with one clenched fist, the other posing the unsaid threat.
“Don’t bother,” he spat in response to their fighting stances, the two words overflowing with unearned confidence. But as cocky as he may have been, it worked — he knew that they were rendered helpless when he held the possibility of a dying spirit against them.
“Zhao, don’t.” Aang dropped his staff and held his hands up in surrender, an action Y/N and the others mirrored.
Everything after that happened unbelievably quickly. After General Iroh — a man she knew as both the ruthless general that laid siege to Ba Sing Se for six hundred long days and Zuko’s surprisingly kind uncle — threatened the admiral with his own firebending, Y/N foolishly believed it to be the end once he let the fish back into the pond.
But any hopes of peace were dashed with the slice of firebending the admiral sent at Tui, plunging the world back into shades of grey just as quickly as it had returned.
“NO!”
A bloodcurdling scream rang in the air; Y/N thought whoever produced it must’ve been insane. It took her a moment to realize the strangled sound had come from her, and that Sokka’s grip on her arms was the only thing stopping her from foolishly throwing herself into the raging battle that had started.
Did the admiral not understand what he had just done? To attack any spirit was to inflict the rage of many others, to kill a spirit was to sign not only one's own death warrant, but those around him as well.
To kill the Moon Spirit meant to destroy waterbending as the world knew it. To kill the Moon Spirit meant to disrupt the balance of the world. To kill the Moon Spirit meant to kill Yue.
The admiral should’ve considered himself very lucky that her waterbending was gone. With it, Y/N knew she would’ve done something she would regret.
As soon as the flames of Iroh’s onslaught disappeared, Sokka’s grip loosened on her arms and she all but sprinted over to the pond. A choked sob fell from her lips when she saw the dead fish in the water, palpable horror in the air as the rest of the group joined her.
Not even Aang’s feat of merging with the Ocean Spirit could help — it might’ve saved the tribe from the attack on the Fire Nation, but it could do nothing for the dead spirit. Y/N watched on mournfully as Iroh placed Tui back into the pond, the mortal body of the fish laying there unmoving.
“It’s too late,” Katara lamented. “It’s dead.”
Iroh looked up and met Y/N’s eyes, recognition flashing through them for just a moment before they moved to Yue’s. The blue hues of her irises were even more striking than usual — they were the only sign of color in the world around them.
His own widened with surprise as he gestured at her. “You have been touched by the Moon Spirit. Some of its life is in you.”
Yue seemed to understand what he was saying as she raised her head, her features taking on a mask of stoicism. “Yes, you’re right. It gave me life… maybe I can give it back.”
It was as if lightning had struck Y/N, the way that fear was jolted into her heart. “No!” she cried at the same time as Sokka, a reprise of her earlier plea. “Yue, you can’t!”
“You don’t have to do that!” Sokka reached out for her hand but she wrenched it out of his grasp — nothing they could say was going to change her mind.
“It’s my duty.” The princess stated it so plainly, carving the letters on her headstone herself.
“I won’t let you!” Sokka insisted. “Your father told me to protect you.”
“Yue, your duty isn’t to die for your tribe!” Y/N cried. She couldn’t think, spirits she could barely breathe. She couldn’t go through this again. She couldn’t go through this again. “Please, there has to be another way!”
She smiled sadly at Y/N and shook her head. “This was what I was born to do.” The princess glanced at the pond then took a step forward, wrapping Y/N in the tightest hug she could muster. She pressed her lips against Y/N’s cheek in a feather light kiss before she pulled away and continued forward and placed her hands against the koi fish.
The fish began to glow, Yue closed her eyes, she collapsed into Sokka’s arms.
And that was it.
The color returned to the world, but Y/N was frozen in place. She couldn’t do anything to save her friend, the girl that she was pretty sure she loved, as she died in front of her. Her cheek was still burning from where Yue’s lips had touched, and she wanted to bottle that warmth because she knew that was the last time she would ever feel it.
The first tear to fall snapped her out of her paralysis as she fell to her knees next to Sokka, her body cradled in his arms as he mourned for a lost love. Y/N wanted to scream, she wanted to sob, she wanted to do anything to get this anger and sadness out but she could do nothing but stare, eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears.
Her body slowly faded away, and Y/N could’ve laughed at the irony. Yue gave her life for the spirits and all they could leave them with was the fleeting memory.
The fish in Iroh’s hands began to glow and he placed it back in the water, and almost immediately it returned to its natural rhythm. The oasis took on the glow of the fish and it formed the cruelest joke of them all.
Princess Yue. She was ethereal, both her hair and white dress flowing down her back and a peaceful expression on her face. She was more beautiful than ever, and her voice echoed through the oasis as she spoke.
“I will always be with you, Y/N. Thank you for making me feel alive.” A small smile, much like the one she gave her just moments ago, played on her lips. “I love you.”
Y/N could do nothing but stare, awestruck and heartbroken, as she whispered something to Sokka and kissed him.
And then she was gone.
Her gaze was trained forward, tears spouting and falling down her cheeks, some dim part of her still hoping that it was just a cruel joke by the spirits. She couldn’t go through this again.
How could they do this to her again? How could they introduce a light into her life and make her fall in love, then wrench it away from her grasp? She felt selfish for only caring about herself. She couldn’t go through this again.
Yue was gone.
She couldn’t go through this again.
Another strangled sob fell from her lips and Katara pulled her into a hug. That simple motion seemed to open to the floodgates, and suddenly she was choking on her own tears. Katara’s arms around her were the only tether she had to the world right now, she had to focus on it or else she would lose herself to the grief.
It felt like the minutes were hours with how long it took until Y/N was finally able to walk out of the oasis, but Katara and Sokka stayed by her side the entire time. When they finally stumbled out into the real world, Y/N felt weaker than ever. The constant go go go of the siege had finally caught up to her, and she was so damn tired.
“Always and forever.”
“You’re stuck with me.”
She was losing hope in promises.
-
perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77
ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27 @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy @carisi-sonny
atla: @marianne1806
#zuko x reader#zuko x you#zuko x y/n#zuko#zuko fic#zuko x reader fic#avatar#atla#avatar the last airbender#avatar fic#atla fic#avatar the last airbender fic#avatar x reader#sadie writes#im not gonna lie i barely proofread this#simply because i didnt want to put myself through it lmao#thats a good sign right
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could you do a marcus rashford imagine where he meets your french family? thought it might be cute x
MARCUS RASHFORD ONESHOT
SPEAK FRENCH?
( WARNINGS: swearing, fluff )
word count: 1.5k
< i think i just posted this because i needed something to post, apologies if it's not up to standard...might rewrite later >
“I can hear you stressing.” You spoke through the silence. It was that quiet it seemed the birds had stopped squawking and all signs of life had halted. You swore if a pin dropped and landed on the carpeted floor of your car you’d still be able to hear it, it was that silent.
Marcus hadn’t been this quiet ever. It was unnerving to say the least.
His eyes were glued to the house in front of him and he was deathly still, only seemingly able to blink every so often. He gave no indication that he’d even heard you speak, so you leaned over the gear stick slowly, nudging his arm gently.
It seemed to do the trick because he snapped his head towards you, pressing one hand to his pounding heart in a whirlwind of panic.
“It’s like you’re trying to kill me, woman.” He breathed shakily, his gaze quickly fixating back on the house looming in front of him, just as his knee started bouncing up and down.
“I did say something but I don’t think you were quite there.” You said, pressing a finger to your temple with an expression of faux concern.
“Really? What gave it away?” He muttered under his breath, seemingly forgetting that you were of such close proximity in the car that you could hear the words.
You rolled your eyes, leaning away from him and making a move to open your car door, but you were stopped by a hand on your arm, dragging you back into your seat.
“What are you doing?” You both chorused in unison, Marcus’s and still gripping your arm.
You sighed, “I’m going into my parents’ house. What’re you doing?”
He, too, sighed, reciprocating your actions, but you knew it held a tone of sarcasm.
“I’m freaking out, that’s what I’m doing.” His eyes were wide, and you pressed your lips together, fighting the urge to laugh because you’d honestly not seen him this nervous in a while. You carefully peeled his fingers off your elbow, linking your hands together.
“You’ll be fine.” You reassured, “They already love you, I promise.”
He swivelled in his chair, hanging his head low to look at you out of the corner of his eye, skepticism dripping from his stare.
“They’ve never even spoken to me.” He pointed out, raising his eyebrows in your direction.
You shrugged, “Doesn’t mean I’ve never spoken to them about you.”
He blinked. Rapidly.
It was rather concerning.
“I…” he started, “When did you speak to your parents about me?”
“About a week ago...on the phone.”
He closed his eyes slowly, letting go of your hand and leaning back in his seat, the palms of his hands pressing into his eyes. The lack of a sarcastic comment was disconcerting to say the least.
“Why are you acting like I told you I left the front door wide open on the way out of the house?” You asked, leaning forwards with your elbows placed precariously on your knees.
Marcus groaned in response.
“Because you were speaking French to them.” Was his answer.
You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“That’s because they’re French.” You stated, shaking your head. “I told you that.”
“Yeah. But now I’ve got to impress them with my French too. Do you know how shit speaking French sounds with a Northern accent? It completely butchers the language.” He complained, screwing up his face as if he was going to cry. He wasn’t going to, but he sure as hell felt like he could make himself do it, especially if it meant stalling for a few more minutes.
You failed to choke back a laugh, this time the sound managing to break past your lips.
“They’re not gonna care how well you speak French or even if you speak French--”
“But--”
“If it matters to you that much I can help you slip it into the conversation.” You offered, slowly sneaking your hand towards the door handle, preparing yourself for a quick escape.
Marcus hesitated, his mouth opening and closing in thought.
“Well...I-Now you’ve made it sound like it doesn’t matter if I speak French or not.”
“That’s because it doesn’t.” You exclaimed, fingers curling around the handle, waiting for him to turn his attention away from you for long enough that you could climb out of the car without being held captive again.
“It does to me.”
“So what do you want to do about it? You’ve got approximately fifteen seconds before I get out of this car, and you’re hilarious if you think you can stop me.”
“That’s mean--”
“Fourteen.”
“WAIT--”
“Thirteen.”
He covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes narrowed accusingly in your direction.
You smiled, and you know he knew you did because his scowl deepened, and he slowly took his hand away from your face.
“Let’s talk about this like adults.” He said, nodding his head as if he was having a one-sided conversation with himself.
“Go ahead...eight.”
“Stop counting down, it’s properly stressing me out.”
You rolled your eyes, resisting your countdown, even if you enjoyed torturing him a little bit.
“Okay.” You shrugged, gesturing for him to carry on.
“Okay…” his eyes glazed over slightly.
“Is anyone home?” You asked, poking him lightly in the arm, and his gaze slid over to you, his lips pursed together in consideration. His eyes snapped over to the house then back to you. This happened a couple of times, and just as it was getting tiring, he spoke.
“You know what? Let’s just go in. Get this over with.” And with that, he unclipped his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, knocking on the window once he realised you’d yet to move, your eyes still trained on the seat he was sitting in moments prior, mind not quite able to digest the sudden change of attitude.
“Weird.” You mumbled, climbing out of the car and shutting the door behind you.
The gravel on the driveway crunched under your boots and as you cast your eyes to the front window, you saw a silhouette move, and it was then that you knew your parents had just witnessed the near entirety of your exchange with Marcus.
Marcus intertwined your hands, pulling you along behind him, and he was the one that knocked on the door. You half expected him to take a little step backwards so he was in line with you, but he stayed put on the step, his arm reaching out behind, hands still collapsed together.
You had half the mind to ask him about the sudden change of demeanor, but before you could spit the words out, the front door creaked open, your mum’s familiar eyes greeting you at the doorway.
“Bonjour, bonjour!” She opened the door, ushering the two of you inside with bright smiles and the scent of fresh wildflowers.
“Bonjour.” Marcus replied, complying with the hug your mum enveloped him in, and you swore you could see any excess tension rolling off his shoulders.
Your mum tilted her head in fascination, eyeing Marcus with a suspicious glint in her eye as he took off his shoes and coat, that smile still etched on her lips.
"Ah, parlez-vous français?” She asked, only taking her attention off him for a split second when your dad came barrelling into the corridor, hurriedly tucking his shirt into his belt before your mum noticed.
“Oui, un petit peu.” Marcus answered, reeking of modesty, and you bent down to untie your laces to hide the smile making its way onto your face.
That was one way to work French into a conversation.
“As if I couldn’t like you even more!” Your dad beamed, holding his hand out for Marcus to shake, wasting no time in whisking him off into the living room, leaving both yourself and your mum in the doorway.
She tiptoed towards you, nudging your elbow to peel your attention away from the two men now conversing quietly.
“Did he get cold feet?” She asked, a curious expression printed on her face.
You shrugged, “Kind of. He wanted to impress you with his French and then had a whole thing about not being able to have proper pronunciation.” You breathed a laugh, fondness bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as you realised he cared about what your parents thought of him more than you originally came to think. You’d always known he did; it was Marcus, but simple things like that really did catch you slightly off guard.
“Your dad was that way about meeting my parents.”
You turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in shock at the revelation.
“Yeah. He really worked himself up. If I’m right, he was on the brink of having a mental breakdown.” She elaborated, before adding, “It’s those ones that you keep.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile as she sauntered off into the living room.
You already had absolutely no intention of letting Marcus go, not if you could help it.
#marcus rashford#marcus rashford imagine#marcus rashford oneshot#fluff#manchester united#man utd#marcus rashford x reader#england nt#football#footballer x reader
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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 2)
And we're back with more exciting and mean Natsume! Here we will further explore Natsume's life and how absolutely dark his existence is, as well as some very important aspects of his personality that will be useful to us when NatsuMikan starts picking up speed.
Again, I am warning people that this whole essay in general talks heavily about topics like bullying, child abuse, suicidal ideation, and depression, so if those are triggering topics, it might be better for you to not read.
Previously, we were introduced to Natsume and he has sent Mikan on a dangerous quest to the Northern Woods. During that trip, she and her friends have captured his one and only best friend, Ruka, which will not bode well.
Chapter Five
Chapter Five is instrumental for completing Natsume’s introduction, long as it’s been. Natsume is a mysterious character, and he will continue to be evasive and strange for many chapters to come, but by the end of this chapter, we will understand some basic foundation for his character.
The chapter starts with Ruka’s point of view, recalling a moment when he saw Natsume cry, presumably after a mission. Ruka wonders why it’s only Natsume that has to go through “this”, and Natsume tells him that he can take it--for now. He says he wants to grow up and be an adult, to be big and strong enough to properly escape this hell. This is a consistent wish of Natsume’s, and in many ways his only wish: to grow up already.
Higuchi really out here trying to convince us this was supposed to be a cheerful story.
Natsume had to be an adult, had to make the selfless and responsible choices for the sake of his family and for Ruka, had to abandon play and smiles and laughter for a life of secret missions and frequent hospital trips. He’s dying and he wants to be an adult already because he’s certain he’ll never be able to grow up. He wants his body to match the level of responsibility he’s had to take on, but he can’t force the outside to match the inside, especially when he’ll probably be dead long before it happens anyway. This wish evolves and changes when he falls for Mikan, but it doesn’t go away.
He associates adulthood with control, because his life at the academy has been observing the adults control and use him. He wants control for once, to be able to make a choice and even just say no.
Ruka notes that Natsume hasn’t cried at all since that night, and that he now keeps all his sorrow locked away. This kid needs therapy, immediately. This is another reason that Ruka is so precious to Natsume. Ruka is compassionate and kind, so concerned about his friend that he would also shut away his own heart so that he can’t be happy for as long as Natsume is in agony.
Natsume has a scene of his own, where he snaps at Permy for saying that Mikan is full of crap and lying about being an alice. He points out that the academy is not an easy place to lie your way into, and Permy immediately backtracks and lies that she’s agreed with him this whole time. Like I’d said earlier about the loneliness involved in being surrounded by fans who don’t really know or understand you, having people all around you bend over backwards for your approval makes it clear that they really have no interest in what you’re saying, just that you’re the one saying it.
In the anime essay, I’d pointed out that because of their admiration for him, it would elude people that Natsume is in fact lonely. He speaks out against things and people rush to agree, not really considering why he might say that. This is a similar moment, though he doesn’t seem too bothered by Permy’s behavior. It’s still concerning, but it’s interesting to compare this “yes, man” attitude to Ruka’s.
There is obviously a difference between someone agreeing with every word of your mouth no matter how much it changes and contradicts, bending over backwards for your approval, and someone wanting to match you out of compassion, but Ruka’s line of thinking does still have some major flaws.
Ruka is a child, just like the rest of them, so even though this behavior is motivated by love and compassion, it’s still immature and raises some questions.
“If you won’t smile, I won’t smile either,” is a sweet line, but now Natsume is aware that Ruka’s misery is his fault. If he wasn’t so sad, Ruka could be happy. This doesn’t make Natsume happy; it just makes them both sad, and that doesn’t solve any problems. Naturally, Natsume would never say that, and Ruka would claim he’s unbothered and--just like Natsume--that he doesn’t care about hanging out with the others, but they’re both miserable now, and I think this is part of the reason why there’s a gap between them at the start of the manga, and why they’re a bit distant, despite being best friends.
They’re each other’s most important person, but they don’t really communicate that well, and Ruka constantly feels like a burden.
Natsume needs something that Ruka can’t give him, and that something is what he’ll eventually get from Mikan.
That being said, at the moment, Natsume is getting nothing but irritation from Mikan. When he finds out Mikan and her gang kidnapped Ruka, that irritation turns into rage and we see a final fundamental building block for Natsume’s character: his berserk button.
Natsume doesn’t care about the reasoning or justification for the kidnapping. He doesn’t care about explanations or common sense.
His rage only increases when he discovers Ruka was tied up and even beaten (he is told this by a classmate, when Ruka is actually unharmed). The other kids in Class B--his admirers--are terrified to see how scary Natsume is when he’s furious.
Natsume's biggest weakness is Ruka so Mikan is kinda fucked.
He doesn’t care about the game anymore. He only cares about Ruka.
So he goes to the Northern Woods, where nobody is expecting him. He tells Mikan to leave the school, which… she cannot do, obviously. He is overtaken by rage and he ceases to be reasonable.
He uses his alice on everyone but Ruka, and is about to use it on Mikan, but her alice nullifies it. Then Narumi kisses him, prompting him to pass out.
Here, we are introduced to a consistent character trait of Natsume’s, one that may contradict all that talk about forced maturity and selflessness. In fact, Natsume’s habit to go absolutely postal on anyone who threatens a loved one is a contradictory one. Going into a rage requires the sacrifice of common sense and reason for the sake of complete emotional detonation, and as a result he fails to understand that his actions could inadvertently hurt his loved ones or innocent bystanders. No reassuring words are enough to calm him down, and sure enough Natsume will destroy something.
It’s important that we see this trait now, as part of Natsume’s informal introduction, as we will see plenty more instances of it later on. In a way, going berserk for someone can even be a love language of his, where if a person being threatened is enough to set him off, he probably cares about them.
And just as interesting as seeing what he does in these situations is posing the why! Why is it that Natsume goes ballistic in these situations, when it requires the loss of the one thing he wishes he had more of, control? My guess is that Natsume has had a rough childhood and much of that time was spent running away from a dangerous entity. Staying cool and calculated under some conditions would have its benefits, but so would the quick-action and confidence that Natsume would gain by going berserk. When you have to protect someone, and Natsume has been in that situation many times, then it’s sometimes even beneficial to be able to lose yourself for a moment or two. But perhaps it’s not that either. Natsume is, despite all his airs of coldness and mystery, actually a very emotional person, and in that way he is easy to understand. Even if this isn’t a habit he developed by watching his loved ones ripped away from him through either extortion, manipulation, or just plain murder, it’s still something he might be predisposed to: attacking with everything he has despite not having a clear plan or even any real thought.
Chapter Six
We pick up where we left off and Natsume wakes up grumpy after everyone seeing him under the effects of Narumi’s pheromone alice. He causes more destruction, still in somewhat of a rage, and even causes Narumi a head wound though his teacher seems unbothered by this (or maybe even used to it, who can say).
The next thing that happens is that an alarm rings, signaling that Natsume is due for severe punishment, and, as Naru points out, not something he can help with this time. Narumi warns him to get a move on before a mystery enemy (Persona) arrives, and that is enough to scare Natsume into getting out of there. But not before he issues a word of warning of his own to Mikan, that she will regret coming to Alice Academy of her own free will.
Isn't it interesting how her optimism, something he hated so much about her from the start, ends up being something he loves about her?
I have very many thoughts about this warning. It might even seem like a threat, as if Natsume will go out of his way to make sure she regrets her decision, but he does no such thing. He is convinced that Mikan doesn’t need help reaching that conclusion--she will realize it on her own because the school is simply that terrible.
It makes a little bit of sense to view Natsume’s hatred of Mikan this way: Mikan skipped right into his own personal hell with a smile on her face and a bubbly attitude. Meanwhile, he fought and kicked and screamed right until the very end when he was forced into attending the academy. And Mikan is not some normal girl who might be able to live a quiet and pleasant life in the academy. She’s already been marked, what with all the games about her enrollment, and that might anger Natsume even more: she’s really naive enough to walk into a place that’s not just hell to him, but inevitably to her too. Because of this, Natsume hates her and is predisposed to hate her more the more cheerful and optimistic she is.
And, unlike in the anime, this hatred takes much longer to go away.
Anyway, we see Natsume again later in class, when he shows up late after having just been terribly abused as punishment for his actions in the Northern Woods.
In the anime, Natsume catches Mikan insulting him while wearing the punishment mask, and although he’s covered in scratches and the kids are whispering about his bad mood, there’s not much else to it. He doesn’t seem any more unpleasant than he’s been this whole time.
There's nothing funny about this but I will put here as a warning that anybody who jokes that kids should be hit will be hit by me!
In the manga, Natsume is so weak that he can hardly stand. It’s not just scratches, but blood and gashes on his wrists and legs. The mask is not only used to mark him, it’s also used to punish, by physically abusing him when Persona has better things to do.
He makes his way to his seat, but Narumi is on the way, just enough to make a quippy comment.
(I wonder sometimes about Narumi establishing himself as untrustworthy to the children, particularly Natsume, and how exactly that’s supposed to be a help to the student body at large. I mean there’s the possibility that Mikan is special, and her being Yuka’s daughter helped Narumi remember what he became a teacher for. In that case, it might make sense that Narumi, being so jaded and bitter, might be content acting as a villain to the abused children of the academy, and especially to Natsume, but I can’t help but feel that’s not the case. I don’t want to think that Narumi was willingly complicit and even amused by Natsume’s abuse. It’s difficult to tell for sure, though, because Narumi is way more mysterious than Natsume tries to be.)
Sumire tries to kiss up, whining to Natsume about how everyone is suddenly acting so nice to the new girl, until Natsume forcefully kicks her desk to shut her up. He only holds back with Ruka, who he would never lash out at.
Narumi then announces that Mikan shall have a partner, and that her partner will be Natsume. It’s funny because although Hotaru made it clear she didn’t want the job, Iinchou was willing to volunteer, but Narumi ignores that because he always wanted Natsume to be her partner. At this news, everyone is shocked, wondering if Mikan is supposed to be special, seeing as she’s paired up with Natsume of all people.
Narumi smiles to himself despite the chaos and then lets himself leave the classroom, saying, “let’s see what happens.”
Why does he partner them up?
Mikan thinks Narumi is crazy for this, and from an outside perspective it certainly might seem that way.
Natsume’s theory, as becomes clear later during the exams, is that this was organized by the ESP and Persona, perhaps as a punishment, but definitely with ulterior motives. He is closer to nailing it, but a little off. There is no way in hell the ESP would want to partner the child of rabble-rousers with the school’s pet child soldier. That’s a recipe for disaster. Knowing that the ESP was excited to welcome Mikan because of her alice, and that her presence at the school might encourage Yuka to try and save her, he wouldn’t have wanted to disturb his own plans.
So what is the reason?
It’s all Narumi, of course. Perhaps the O.G. shipper, Narumi could tell right away that Mikan’s nullification would be useful, particularly in regards to Natsume. Pairing them up is just another means to an end, as Narumi actually wants the kids to raise some trouble.
Chapter Seven
Being partners with Natsume is quite unhelpful.
Mikan ends up a No-Star and her Special-Star partner is for the most part absent throughout her ordeals, having to cope with it all on her own.
Chapter Seven is mainly lacking Natsume. He functions to not function for most of it, that is to establish himself as being a terrible partner.
There is a moment that stands out, when Mikan is writing a letter to her grandpa, where Natsume appears. Yes, he appears in her head to taunt her about her regret coming to the school, and she spites him by committing to optimism and determination in the future. But he also has a short appearance paralleling a panel of Mikan: they are both in their beds, awake.
WHAT WAS THE REASON?????!??!?!?
This parallel is interesting, their panels right next to each other. She is thinking about her grandpa, and we have no way of knowing what Natsume is thinking about, but there has to be a reason for him to appear despite having been mostly absent so far in the chapter.
To me, it’s another narrative tool to pair them together. They have been so far, in more ways than one, and will continue to be as they fall in love, and this is just another example of how they’d been fated from the start. Even when they hate each other, and even when they aren’t thinking of each other, they’re still tied. Looking at those panels, and seeing Natsume despite his relative irrelevance to the plot, seems to be a message that there’s more to come between them. I don’t know if any of what I’m saying makes sense, or if it seems silly, but there’s very little analysis I can do without just talking about potential.
Later, with Mikan in a new mood, ready to make the most of her situation, the kids are talking about her resilience with both her no-star status and having Natsume as a partner.
Ruka does the talking for Natsume, warning Mikan that she’s being watched and remarking that nobody should have been assigned a no-star for simply disturbing class.
Once again, Mikan and Natsume are paired: they are both treated unfairly, with Mikan given a no-star status she doesn’t deserve, and Natsume given a special-star status despite the fact that he doesn’t even go to class most of the time. They’re the exceptions to the rule, and the reader is made to wonder what exactly it is that they have in common that would result in this treatment.
Ruka tells Mikan not to trust any teachers at the academy, not even Naru, and this is almost like hearing from Natsume himself. Unlike Mikan, who will happily make strong bonds with teachers like Narumi and Nodacchi, Natsume has absolutely no positive adult figures in his life. His father is far away, his mother is dead, and every teacher is someone he holds either directly or indirectly responsible for his suffering. The adults at the school have failed him and he has nobody to trust. Something Natsume needs is a positive role model, somebody he can look up to and have faith in, because as it stands he’s a traumatized boy who absorbs negativity and takes it out in bad ways. A trustworthy adult would very much help Natsume grow and learn better coping skills, and in the meantime it makes perfect sense that he would act out and even be a bully at times.
Chapter Eight
Natsume has a habit of ignoring any and all episodes where Mikan has confrontations with her teachers. He is either dozing off or listening to music with Ruka, and doesn’t seem particularly interested in even watching.
That being said, we see a new side to Natsume in this chapter, a new emotion in a way we haven’t before: fear.
Natsume ditches class with regularity. He does not care about being present. For most classes, he would simply walk out and go screw around somewhere else, but with the dangerous ability class, he doesn’t have that choice.
The other teachers may be complicit, but they won’t do the abuse themselves. Persona is not above that, as we have already noticed despite never even seeing him so far.
If Natsume does not want to attend the dangerous ability class, then he has to run for it, and in this chapter he does, like his life depends on it, because his safety sure does. He’s only ten years old and forced to do horrible missions for the school. This is one of the scenes that reminds me that he is just a child. He knows he could get punished for running, but he does it anyway. Maybe, if he runs fast enough, they won’t catch him. Maybe, if he doesn’t get caught, he doesn’t have to go on a mission. Maybe, just this once, they won’t mind if he doesn’t show. It’s such a childish and desperate thing to do, to avoid pain at the cost of more pain to come.
Natsume is scary when he's scared...
It’s funny that as he is running from pain, he runs into Mikan, who will later alleviate his pain. For now, he just shuts her up so that Persona can pass the area while looking for him. We see Persona for the first time, what Natsume is scared of more than anything, and although his fear seems obvious, Mikan is preoccupied by annoyance for being shut up like that.
They bicker--or she bickers at him, mostly--until the middle schoolers encounter them and start bullying them.
Natsume is ready to ignore them and walk away, until Sumire’s brother calls him a murderer, reminding us of the rumor Hotaru and Iinchou discussed. Natsume stops, and Sumire’s brother whines that he’s just a special star because he’s “Persona’s favorite”.
Sumire and her brother have, like, nothing in common other than curly hair, huh.
Being Persona’s favorite is no privilege, as we know now from the run-in we just had with him and Natsume’s fear. This sets Natsume off and he starts some fires. When they threaten to call Persona, who Natsume was just running from, he responds that they can call him all they want, but he’ll burn them before he can get there to capture him. We see once again, through Natsume standing up for himself, that his berserk button lacks reason (as he is willing to sacrifice punishment by Persona again).
In a last-ditch attempt to threaten him, the middle schoolers threaten Mikan, who they perceive to be Natsume’s new girlfriend. (Calling her his girlfriend is interesting because it is even more proof that they are being narratively paired together! It shouldn’t be a surprise at all that they eventually get together, when almost everybody around them pairs them up like this, even when they can’t stand each other.) They do not expect that Natsume actually hates her, and genuinely doesn’t care if she gets bullied or not. He smiles in twisted amusement at this turn of events and walks away for good this time, leaving Mikan to be bullied.
Aw, he's smiling! How sweet.... oh wait that's a skull.
Now, Natsume is a good person deep inside, somebody who is selfless and kind in secret ways. There is no secret kindness about this scene. He is not a nice person, for sure, and this scene is proof of it.
Natsume is used to sacrificing himself for the comfort and well-being of his loved ones, so there might be relief in not caring about the comfort or well-being of somebody, and being able to choose his own well-being before that of somebody else for once. It makes sense that he would be so amused, because this time nobody has anything to hold over his head.
Conclusion
We have seen some more of the abuse Natsume faces on a daily basis. He and Mikan have been partnered up and they are presented narratively as foils and as pairs even outside of that dynamic.
For the next part, we'll see even more examples of them being paired together, as well as how Natsume is isolated from his classmates.
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#gakuen alice#alice academy#hyuuga natsume#natsume hyuuga#natsumikan#sakura mikan#mikan sakura#my meta#ga#mine#ga meta#ga meta: nm#ga meta: manga#ga meta: manga nm#let's talk about natsumikan#let's talk about natsumikan: natsume#i love him! i love THEM! perfection! excellent story-telling! fantastic! so much to analyze! i ADORE!
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Why Your New Year's Resolutions Always Fail (and How to Fix It)
You already know the statistics.: Many people set New Year's resolutions on January 1st. By February 1st, nearly all of those resolutions have been broken for good. With odds like that, you would think that we would have given up on New Year’s resolutions by now, and yet it is a tradition that lives on like a zombie year after year.
There are always going to be people who jump on whatever bandwagon because of advertising or “it’s what everyone does,” but I believe that most people who set about to change their lives on January 1st do so with a great deal of thought.
That thought is actually part of the problem.
The reason we can't seem to get off this wagon of suffering is because we actually jump on way earlier in the year than we think. By the time January 1st rolls around, we’ve been riding the wagon for so long, it is almost inevitable that many of us will set resolutions again.
If you’ve been thinking about your New Year’s resolution for months, you are not alone. If I had to guess, most people who set New Year's resolutions that they really care about were pretty sure what they wanted to do by the end of November, by Christmas at the absolute latest.
The reason for this is that the boom bust cycle of New Year's resolutions corresponds with a stage in a cycle we go through every year. Understand the cycle, and you are one step closer to knowing how to work with New Year’s resolutions like a champ.
Time Moves in a Circle: The Wheel of the Year
Just like the official calendar has 12 months, the astrological calendar has 12 months. In astrology, we call these months sun seasons because they follow the sun's movement through each of the signs of the zodiac. If you know your sun sign, you know the season you were born in.
Astrologers believe that sun seasons say something about the people who were born in them, but they also influence the collective. Just like the physical sun signs a light that illuminates the world, sun seasons shine a light on one area of each of our lives and tell us what the collective is focused on at the moment.
The way the collective focus shifts over the course of the year can be seen in the mundane calendar. Weddings are popular in May when the sun is in Taurus, a sign ruled by Venus, the goddess of love. In the northern hemisphere, the collective has a back to work/school attitude at the end of the summer when the sun is in practical, to-do list-making Virgo. Halloween and Day of the Dead happen during Scorpio season, the sign of death and resurrection.
How New Year’s Resolutions Fit Into the Yearly Cycle
Remember how I guessed that you probably knew what your New Year's resolution would be in November or December? I made that guess because Sagittarius season spans the time roughly from American Thanksgiving to Christmas. Sagittarius season is a season of fire and optimism. That's why so many people love to like candles during this time. It is also a time when we find it easy to believe that we are capable of undertaking a difficult quest and succeeding.
After Sagittarius, the sun moves into in achievement oriented sign of Capricorn. Capricorn wants nothing more than to take on a tough challenge and succeed. For many of us, that desire to succeed is pushed to the background for the first week or so of Capricorn season because Capricorn season starts four days before Christmas.
While we open presents and visit with family and friend and eat way too many Christmas cookies, that energy slowly builds to a boil. On January 1st, we’re practically bursting with energy to go after our goals.
That energy carries us forward for awhile, but, toward the end of January, The sun changes signs again. It enters freedom loving Aquarius. Like a drunk waking up with a hangover, all of the people who listened to dieting commercials and set their goals according to values that don't really belong to them find that they cannot force themselves to go after those goals anymore.
Aquarius is a future oriented sign. Its purpose is to make sure that you have minimal regrets on your deathbed. If you have been sleepwalking through life, just doing the things you're supposed to do and not doing the things that are actually meaningful and authentic for you, Aquarius season arrives like a bucket of cold water poured over your head, reminding you that there's more to life than your budget and your waistline.
If your New Year's resolution survives Aquarius season, congratulations! You are either more self-aware or more determined than most people. But there is still one more problematic season to go.
Toward the end of February, we enter Pisces season. After you have thought about the future, and you have decided that your resolution aligns with your very long-term goals, Pisces comes in and brings the great cosmic question: Will this matter in 500 years?
Unless you are Augustus Caesar or Aphrodite herself, it will probably be very hard to convince yourself that anyone will care how you look or how much money you had in 500 years, even if you think that the work you're doing now will make your life much better in the long run.
Pisces is the final boss that gets nearly everyone.
This is sad because after Pisces comes Aries season, and Aries is the sign of the Warrior. Remember that determination you had back in December? The month after the spring equinox is the time when you will actually find the energy you need to go after those goals you wanted so badly.
Ironically, if people tried to get back on the New Year’s resolution wagon in the spring, they would probably find a lot more success. Instead, the story goes that a resolution broken can't be returned to until January.
And the cycle repeats.
Working With the Yearly Cycle to Set Resolutions You’ll Keep
Now that you know what the cycle is, you have two options: You can choose to wait until the spring to start working on your New Year’s resolutions, or you can dive straight into your resolutions, knowing that there will be challenges ahead.
There are pros and cons to each approach.
If you wait, you will feel like you are wasting the burst of energy that becomes available to you in January. You won’t actually be wasting that energy, if you do things right. You will be dreaming, planning, and building a solid foundation that will carry you forward for a long time, but you might feel frustrated, anyway. It’ll be especially difficult if everyone around you is working busily on meeting their new goals.
If you decide to dive into meeting your goals immediately, there’s a chance that you will put in a lot of work in January only to discover that the dreams that felt so real in November were a mirage. Sometimes, though, changes need to be made. Your health is dangerously bad, for example, and you need the energy that comes with the first of the year to make potentially life-saving lifestyle changes.
You are the only one who knows which of these options is best, so I will give advice for both approaches as I explore the New Year’s resolution cycle in depth.
Sagittarius Season
Sagittarius season is the natural time for hope and optimism. It’s the time in the year when it’s appropriate to get over-enthusiastic and excessive and dream about going on a big quest.
When you find yourself starting to dream about those things in November or December, don't squash it. Pay attention. The dreams that you have during this time are important. Later, you will get practical and refine your goals and meet difficulty. For now, allow yourself to get pumped up with the belief that you can do anything. If you are a person who makes vision boards, this is a good time to make them. Allow yourself to get lost in the dream of how things will look when you make the changes you want to make.
Capricorn Season
When Capricorn season rolls around on December 21st, you have a choice. This is either a time for strategizing how exactly you are going to get up the mountain that you want to climb, or it is the time to actually start climbing that mountain.
If you have decided to wait and strategize, spend this time thinking about how you are going to surmount the obstacles that are coming your way as you meet your challenge. You may find yourself drawn to spend a lot of time brooding alone. As long as that brooding doesn't fall into depression, allow yourself some brooding time.
If you have decided to dive in, realize that the motivation and drive that you have now is not going to last forever. Pace yourself. Don't overdo it. Treat it like a marathon, not a sprint. You are likely to run into blocks in January. Things you thought would be possible prove to be impossible. The results you were promised don’t materialize. Your friends and family aren’t supporting your change, and you feel isolated or, at least, like you’re working alone. This is not your fault. It is a natural stage in the cycle, and it will pass. If you have the motivation to keep striving, don’t feel bad if you don’t start seeing results until the spring equinox in late March.
Aquarius Season
When Aquarius season rolls around in late January, this is a time to get authentic. If you have committed to a practice that isn't really working for you, you will know it at this time. This is a time to break your routine and change things up. The annoyances that you have with your new routine are trying to point to the places where you need to make that routine your own. Unless you really have been riding on the New Year’s resolution band wagon the whole time, the challenges you're facing now aren't meant to make you give up. They are here to remind you to be an individual and a human being, not a machine.
If you decided to wait to pursue your goals in January, Aquarius season is for strategizing long-term. Spend time thinking about where you want to be decades from now. How will the changes that you are going to make now going to cause ripple effects in the future? How will your life change because of the changes that you're making? What structures do you need to support you in this change? Start setting those support structures up now.
Pisces Season
When Pisces season comes in late February, it's time to meditate.
If you decided to start working on your goal in January, now is the time to really connect with the work that you're doing on a deeper level. Any routine is likely to get boring after a couple of months, even if you adjusted your routine during Aquarius season.
Don't run from the boredom. Lean into it.
The boredom that you were feeling is a signal that you are on the verge of potentially experiencing an altered state of consciousness. Runners talk about runners high. Athletes talk about getting a second wind. Before you reach that place, you think that you're not going to be able to make it. You think that you don't have what it takes to manifest your dreams. There is energy waiting for you on the other side. Just keep going.
If you decided to wait to pursue your goal. Pisces season is the time to return to dreaming. If you recorded your dreams in November, you will find that you have come a long way since then. You may find that your Sagittarius dreams were only hints of your real priorities. Now that you have spent time meditating on the difficulties, planning for the future, and making sure that your plans are authentic, things may look very different. Now is a time to return to vision boarding or dreaming or journaling or whatever your practice is with all of the knowledge and experience and planning you've done. Returning to the beginning at this stage will probably feel tedious. Lean into your boredom and frustration. When Aries season begins, you will need every ounce of energy you can save.
Aries Season
If you have been waiting to start your New Year’s resolution journey since January, the beginning of Aries season at the spring equinox in late March is the time to start. By now, you might be bursting to start finally working to achieve your goals. Go to it! Use that energy now to fight for your place in the sun.
You might also find that the motivation just isn’t there, or you may have found by going through the process of dreaming and planning that you don’t actually want the things you thought you did. That’s okay. Some of the dreams of Sagittarius season end up being a mirage, and not everything survives the winter. It’s okay to let those things go.
If you have been working on your New Year’s resolutions since January, now is the time when you can start looking for results. Depending on the size of your project, you might not see them right away. This is the time of year when new sprouting plants are tiny and fragile, but results are coming.
Keep fighting, you New Year’s warrior!
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In Name Only - Part 1
A/N: Ughhh, hi! I’m a whore for Oberyn Martell and cannot be stopped. This is gonna be a little series, only a few parts (at least for now), and I hope you enjoy. This was one of my many shower ideas that I couldn’t let go! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know! xx
Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: slight language
IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“I will not marry a man that does not love me,” you cursed the gods for making you a woman. You cursed your mother for being the way she was though it was not her fault that you were her only daughter among six sons. You cursed the laws of men that determined your position in life, “I will not be tied down to man who does not care about me, to a castle that will never be a home, and bear children I do not want.”
“You are an insolent, silly girl,” she hissed at you, and for a moment you feared that she might reached and strike you across the face. She had been prone to doing so when you were younger, but in her older years she had calmed down, softening with the birth of each child after you, each son, each brother you loathed for how easy their lives were, “you should have been married many moons ago.”
“I will not marry a man almost twice my age that openly keeps a lover and already has plenty of children,” a fiery rage set through your bones, one that would probably be perfectly suited in the warm, desert homeland of the husband she insisted you take. In the Reach, your attitude was abhorred, and you were considered the lone deviant of your family, “I will not give up my freedoms because you deem it fit for me to do so.”
“You will marry him and bear him an heir,” she grabbed your hair and roughly yanked it and leaned in so only you could hear, “you are lucky any man will have you. You’re much too old to be unwed and your demeanor makes you almost unbearable.”
“I will not do it,” you gritted your teeth and tried to pull out of grasp, “I will not subject myself to a life of servitude-”
“When I was your age I’d already been long married to your father and had you and two of your brothers,” she reminded, pushing you away with a heavy sigh, “do you think I wanted to get married? I was no more than a child, and you at least are a woman grown. I could have married you off years ago, as I should have. You would have been out of my sight and perhaps tamed.”
“I refuse. I will not bend and break to your whim,” turning away you started to storm off, hoping that some fresh air would calm you down. Perhaps you could ride your horse through the open pastures and fields surrounding the castle.
“And just what do you plan on doing then? Will you wander through the kingdoms on your own, travelling without anything or anyone like a heathen?”
“Perhaps I will,” you shrugged, “it would be better than doing what you ask of me. If you loved me-”
“If you do not marry him, you will be cut off from this family,” her words were enough to cause you turn around and listen to her, “you will lose your name, your worldly possessions, and you will be penniless. Is that really what you desire?”
“All of this because I do not want to take a husband?”
“It is your duty. As it has been the duty of every woman before you.”
“Fuck duty!” your voiced reverberated around the castle’s stone walls as she stared you down, “I will not marry someone I do not love. Father would never make me do so.”
“And your father is dead,” she reminded you with venom lacing her tone, “and what do you even know about love? It is a fiction created to keep little girls happy.”
“I loved him,” your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest as you thought of him. Your mother scoffed and dramatically rolled her eyes at you, “I loved him and you sent him away to certain death because you are a monster.”
“That horrid boy? He was a bastard,” she reminded you of the cruel little thing that kept you apart. How you rued the term of bastard; it did not mean anything, it did not determine a person’s character or heart, “he was never good enough for you. And you defiled yourself for him.”
“Because I loved him!” you insisted, “and he loved me! We would have been happy together, we could have built a life together...”
“He was a peasant, he tended stables-”
“That does not matter to me,” you reminded her, “he was kind and gentle and warm. I would have loved to have a life of tending stables if meant I was with him. Because I loved him!”
“You were lost in your girlhood fantasies of what you think love is,” she was cruel, each of her words twisting like a knife in your gut, “he was the first boy to show you attention and you fell for his little trap, and it has left you ruined for other men. You are lucky that Oberyn Martell does not know and he will not care, the one benefit of having a Dornish heathen for a husband.”
“I did love him, mother,” you tried hard to fight off the flood of tears that were pricked the back of your eyes, “and just because you can’t handle that you sent him to the Wall where he will live out his days and die. I never even got to say goodbye.”
“He was a bastard, it did not matter.”
“He was a good man,” your voice broke slightly as you tried to square your shoulders and stare her down, “his only fault in life was loving me. It’s gotten him the most cruel of fates.”
“I have had enough of you,” she steeled herself and strode past you, regal and noble in appearance as ever, “in two weeks time you will travel to Dorne and you will marry Oberyn Martell. You will either oblige and do it, as is your duty or you be expelled from this castle and can live out your days among the bastards that you love so much. It is your choice, whether you bring shame to this family or you disappear into the background as a woman should and become a dutiful wife.”
“Those are both horrible, vile options.”
“That is duty of being born a woman.”
“I wish I was born a man then,” you turned on your heel to walk away, wishing you were stronger, wishing you weren’t on the verge of tears, “maybe then I would not subjected to such a cruel fate, and I wouldn’t let any woman in my care suffer the same.”
“Aren’t you just the martyr,” she mocked you with such a ferocity that you wanted to give her a good whack across her own smug face, “you think you know so much, you know nothing.”
“I know what it means to be a good person, or at least to try,” it was days like that you longed for your father. He had been a kindhearted, generous man, one who did not believe in the stereotypes that divided men and women. He was the reason you had remained unwed for many years, far past the age of anyone of noble blood. He encouraged your wildness, your open heart and free spirit. Your mother had always been the exact opposite. You always wondered how they seemingly got along so well, but you’d come to understand that it was no more than an illusion. The only love they shared was that of their children, and sometimes you wondered how deep that truly ran.
“Enough,” her tone held the cruel finality, the singular word was as sharp as a dagger as she stood in the doorway, the soft light filtering in behind her. She was a handsome woman, and if you hadn’t known better, she appeared almost angelic. But you knew better, much better; she was no more a saint than you were a sinner. You remained steadfast in your spot, trying to channel the ferocity that your father always embodied, “in two weeks time you will travel to Sunspear and you will marry the prince.”
“I would rather die.”
“If you choose your own grave so be it,” she slammed the door to her quarters shut, letting the sound ring through the hall. You had flinched at the noise, but now it only served to anger you. Your whole life, the little joys it still afforded you would be taken away soon, all because of a name. All because you were a woman.
They often called occasions such as these little deaths, but you had a feeling that it would be a lot more than a little pain to make yourself subservient to a husband you did not want.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The journey from the lush green lands of Honeyholt and surrounding lands into the dry, red deserts of Dorne had been...miserable. While you would have relished traveling and seeing the new lands under any other circumstance, you experienced no moments of tranquility or peace. The landscapes meshed into one and the only thing signaling that you were entered the land of the Dornish was the stifling heat. The Reach was temperate, never an extreme in either direction, but Sunspear provided its first test through the scorching heat of the golden sun.
It would take some getting used to but you could understand why the symbol of the house you would soon be joining was a blazing sun. It never seemed to fade, casting its golden light across every inch of the land. The people that you spied in villages and smaller cities as you approached Sunspear looked as if they didn’t mind; perhaps only a lifetime of heat would allow you to get used to it.
Their curious glances were always trained on you, and your small retinue that would depart as soon as you arrived safely. You were an outsider from a strange land that the Dornish were reluctant to trust; it wasn’t common fro one of Northern breeding to step this far south. Not that you had much of a choice in the matter; you hadn’t thrown a fit, or cried, or screamed, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you so upset. Instead you had remained silent, speaking only a few words here and there as necessary, your true self hidden behind a thick veneer of steel. Maybe your true self would be hidden forever, dying a little bit day by day as you waited patiently for your death.
There would be no ceremony, no pomp, and most definitely no circumstance when you arrived to your new home and to meet the man who would shortly become your husband. You would be all but abandoned in the palace where you knew no one, trying to fend for yourself. It had been at your mother’s request and you knew exactly why she would treat you in such a manner; each of your brothers, all but the two youngest had been married off already, in a show of great festivities and celebration. You were all but kicked under the carpet, a smudge on the family name that she wished to forget.
Your mother harbored no love for the Dornish, whom she considered savages and uncultured; she must have been desperate to finally see you off if she agreed to a marriage proposal from the Martells. You wondered why they had even asked for you; there were plenty of other families in Dorne that could have produced a worthy daughter, or other Northern families that might have agreed. Perhaps they too realized that it would difficult to marry off a prince nearing middle age that housed a paramour and bragged about his bastard daughters. It did not phase you, or bother you in the slightest; you were pleased rather that they seemed to enjoy life to such a degree. But perhaps even the Martells were smart enough to know that they would need heirs, legitimate ones, to recognized by the Northern countries and carry on their name.
When you arrived at the palace in Sunspear, your jaw dropped slightly in surprise - it was a stunning beauty, a feat of architecture that you were loathe to find anywhere else in the seven kingdoms. It presented a sharp contrast to the home you had known your entire life; there was no bleak grays or beiges that met your eyes, instead colorful, brilliant shades of warm crimsons, oranges, tans, and bronzes met your eyes. it was warm and welcoming, despite the reason for your arrival. If this was to be your home for the remainder of your days, at least it was beautiful.
Your carriage came to a harsh stop and you almost slid off your seat at the sudden force. You groaned lightly as you straightened yourself, looking down at the green dress you were sporting and already wishing you had something cooler to wear. If you had been granted your way, you’d be dressed the same as the men that could spy all around the palace, sporting a pair of trousers and a loose tunic. Your father had never cared what you wore, but the day your mother found out that you had been running around like a boy, she had made you wear only the finest dresses. You’d still sneak off in trousers whenever presented with the opportunity, a small thrill running through your veins, knowing that you were directly defying your mother.
The small door was opened and you stepped out, letting your feet hit the warm the sand. You wiggled your feet about, trying to get a feel for it, bending over and picking up a handful of the small grains. It was a dark bronze color, different than the seasides of the Reach, and softer. You liked it, you immediately decided, it was much more comforting than stone and hard soil.
“Knock it off and put it back,” internally rolling your eyes at the septa you swore you were much too old to still have you, you let the sand trickle out of your hand and back onto the ground, “you’re acting like a child. You must behave and act like a proper woman.”
Sighing lightly, you remained wordless, not wanting to start an argument in the middle of your new home before you’d even made a proper entrance. The few items you’d brought from Honeyholt with you were quickly unloaded and brought into the palace. You hadn’t desired to bring much; you wanted a fresh start, a new one that you could call all your own, even if you weren’t here by choice. It felt like you could hang on to a little bit of autonomy that way.
Your most prized possession hung around your neck: a delicate golden chain that contained a small rose colored gem. It had been given to you by your father on your fourteenth nameday; he’d presented it to you with such joy and excitement, having it made just for you. He had claimed that the rose gem symbolized love and that you would always know how much he loved and adored you whenever you wore it. You hadn’t taken it off since his untimely demise; a small consolation for not having him around anymore.
You’d been so lost in your own thoughts, of your father, of your new life, that you hadn’t seen realized you’d stepped foot inside, until a pair of arms wrapped around you. Your body tensed in defense as you came back to reality and saw a young, dark haired girl grinning at you. She was beautiful, clearly of Dorne with her sunkissed skin and dark features, and animated smile. She was dressed in silks of gold and orange, much like the house she served. Appearing to be only a few years younger than yourself, she had a warm aura about her; it was the most kindness you’d experienced in some time.
“I’m Asha,” she had taken a step back when noticed your hesitation and held her hand out instead. You gave her the best smile you could as you gingerly shook her hand, still wanting to tread lightly as you gave her your name, “I’m your handmaiden. I’ll be helping you with whatever you need.”
“Handmaiden?” surely this must be a joke. Back in Honeyholt you’d had maids and servants, surely, but never one that served you in such a personal manner. Perhaps this was one of the perks of marrying a prince, even if he was one by name only, “I’m quite sure that I can handle myself...I’m sorry, forgive me, I do not mean to be rude. I’ve just never had someone...”
“It’s quite alright,” she insisted, taking your hand and pulling you further into the palace. You tried to get a good look at everything, but there was so much going on all at once that it was hard to keep track of everything, “I’ll be here for whatever you need and should you decide you do not need me at all, then I will remain as your friend, if it pleases you.”
“Friend?” that was the last thing you expected. It something you both had and hadn’t thought much about in the past few weeks. You’d had friends in Honeyholt, less and less the older you became, when they turned into mere acquaintances, tending to the families they were growing, but you’d resigned yourself to a life of solitude in Dorne. You weren’t sure what to expect here; you didn’t think the people would be so welcoming for the stranger that came to marry their favorite prince.
“Yes,” she gave you a dazzling grin, “like I said, if it pleases you. The prince wants to make sure you feel at home and that you’re comfortable.”
“He does?” you’d been there for such a short time, but already you’d experienced more twists and turns than you had expected.
“Of course,” she pulled you up a flight of marbled stairs and down a long hallway, stopping before a grand set of doors. They were beautiful, made of aged wood and intricately carved. You couldn’t stop yourself as you reached up and touched the carvings, letting your fingers glide over them, “ he’s traveled all over the seven kingdoms, the Summer Isles, Essos...so many different places. He understands better than anyone what it is like to be in a new, and often unwelcoming land. He wants you to know that this is your home too. The prince is very happy to have you here and finally meet you.”
“Huh,” you turned to her, searching her eyes for any signs of deception, but you found none. Her dark eyes were wide with excitement as she opened the door and revealed the beautiful interior of your personal quarters. It was a beautiful sight to behold, colorful furniture was strewn about, a large, soft bed with golden cloth over it, and open doors leading to a balcony that housed many plants. A soft breeze ruffled the curtains and rustled the leaves. This space, in the few moments you’d stared at it, felt more like a home than anything you had experienced.
“His quarters are on the opposite end of the hallway,” she explained and nudged her in the direction. Separate quarters, you thought to yourself, how strange, “he wanted to make sure you liked everything. If you’re unhappy with it or require anything else, just say the word and you will have it.”
“It’s beautiful,” you admitted, stepping into the space and taking a closer at everything, “Dorne is beautiful...I had not expected this much beauty in the desert lands. The way the Northern lords make it sound...it should be horrid and ugly. But it’s lovely.”
“There is so much in Dorne that they will never tell you about because they will not allow themselves to see the beauty in front of them. We know they see us as savages and heathens, we know what they say, but we are not as they claim. We are different, surely, but does not make us bad people simply because we do not share the same views and beliefs?” she asked as she started to drag in some of the small trunks containing your items. You shook your head with a small smile; no, surely it did not make them any less human. They were already a warmer people than any of the northerners you’d encountered.
Standing up and helping her, she looked at with you with a curious glance. You just carried on, not wanting to let her do all of the work; why should you?
“I can handle it, my lady,” she insisted, but you refused to back down. You repeated your name and insisted that she call you that, “even if you are to be the princess?”
“I take no joy or pride in hollow titles or unnecessary formalities,” you promised her, “you and I are not different are we? We’re both women, subject to the harsh reality of what that entails and the laws of the gods and men. I insist, please, that you call me by my given name. And I am more than capable of helping to unpack my own items. You musn’t do it all alone.
Asha gave you a big grin as she nodded, surprised by your genial approach. Those she had met from the lands north of Dorne would never dare to renounce a title so freely, or speak so candidly with her. But you did; Oberyn would like you, she thought to herself, “as you wish...I think you will like Dorne, it will suit you well. We do not believe that men hold any superior power over women, nor do we believe that women should be reduced to standing behind a man. Everyone is equal here, just as the gods willed it.”
“And yet here I am, to be married to a man I do not know and that does know me and give him an heir,” there was a slight tone of bitterness to your voice that you hadn’t quite intended. You sighed and shook your head in apology, knowing she had nothing to do with your fortune, “I’m sorry...I should not have lashed out at you.”
“It’s quite alright,” she insisted, “I know how it seems is harsh, but I assure you that not everything is as it seems. It must be shocking to come to a new home and be surrounded by only strangers, but I think you will be just fine; if nothing else you will provide a good wit to match Prince Doran.”
“Prince Doran?” you asked as she nodded, “and he is...”
“I dare they must have kept you quite in the dark about all of this,” you nodded as you allowed yourself to sit on the soft bed, testing it out and finding it just as soft as you liked, “Prince Doran is the ruler of Dorne, his oldest daughter Princess Arianne is his heir and Oberyn is his brother.”
“Oh,” you felt silly, and a bit dumb not being privy to any of this information before. It didn’t surprise you though; your mother did not care for the Martells and it was unlikely that she knew much of this information herself, “I apologize for not being as well versed in your land and people as I should be.”
“There is no need,” she laid out some of your dresses, placing them in the closet that stood against the wall, “one thing you will need to learn is that in Dorne we do not apologize. There is no reason to ever apologize for one’s true self, right? You were not to know this information, so how should you have known? You will learn in time. It is your home now and we are your people.”
“How is that I already feel so much warmer and lighter here than I have in years in my own home, the place I was birthed?” you let out a small laugh in spite of yourself and stood back up, spying some fine silks draped over the chair that was placed in front of the small writing desk, “what are these?”
“Silks,” Asha watched your face turn into a small smile as you touched the delicate fabrics and studied the colors, “they’re a gift from -”
“The prince,” you finished for her and she just nodded with a smile.
“He had a feeling that you wouldn’t be well prepared for the heat and wanted to provide you with something more suitable,” you lifted a few pieces up, holding them against your body. They were lovely, designed and crafted with care and expert stitching, “he asked about your coloring to make sure they’d suit you. And of course, some of the Martell gold and orange had to be included.”
“They are wonderful...absolutely beautiful,” a small sense of satisfaction worked its way into your bones as you realized that your mother would absolutely abhor the clothing, declaring crude and too revealing. But you loved the pieces, knowing they’d be perfect for the hot afternoons and warm evenings you’d come to expect, “this prince...he’s very kind.”
“He can...rough around the edges, but underneath the exterior he presents, he is a most kind and gentle man. His people love him and he loves them as well,” she answered, and you could easily sense the admiration she had for him. Maybe...just maybe, if this prince proved to be as fair and just as Asha made him out to be, things wouldn’t be a complete nightmare, “he wanted to be here to greet you, but unfortunately his duties have kept him away a bit longer than he intended. He will be back in time for your wedding.”
Wedding. Of course. You had somehow forgotten that little detail; this was just some sort of vacation or leisure trip. This was a whole new life you were walking into.
“Oh,” you tried to hide the nervous lilt of voice, but Asha picked up on it anyway. For someone so young, she was very attuned to your emotions. She stood next to you and slowly, as if testing the waters, put an arm around your shoulders. This time, you let her. You let her pull you into a hug and hold onto you tightly as you let your body relax into the comfort of her own. You were almost like clay, melting into her arms; it had been so long since you had experienced the touch of another. She smelled of fresh citrus and spices, a scent you already found comforting, “thank you, Asha. You have been more kind than I could have ever anticipated. It is not lost on me...I should be proud to consider you a friend.”
“And I you,” she insisted, you were quickly interrupted by a loud throat clear from the entrance to your new space. Your oldest brother, now the Lord of Honeyholt in your father’s absence, was standing there, an impatient look on his face. Asha pulled back and bowed her head in reverence, “my lord.”
“Come and make sure your goodbyes, sister,” he completely ignored Asha and turned his cold gaze to yours. Never having been close with any of your brothers, besides the youngest, you harbored no strong feelings for him. He was a fine man, a decent lord, but nothing compared to your father. The halls of Honeyholt were never the same since he sat at the head of the table, “we must leave soon to make it back before our visitors from the Crownlands come.”
“You just mean to leave me here,” it was not a question, but a cold statement of fact, “you do not intend to stay and watch me marry? It is only a short time away.”
“We do not have time,” he insisted already starting to walk away, “besides, what is there to celebrate? You’re married off far too late to...a Martell. Hardly calls for celebration.”
“Goodbye brother,” you called after him, not even bothering to follow and bid anyone else a farewell and a safe journey back, “if that is the way you feel, to leave your only sister thus, then so be it. I wish you, nor our brothers, nor mother any ill will, but I cannot say I will be amiss of any of you.”
“Watch your tongue,” he growled at you from the foot of the stairs, “you are lucky to be my sister or I would have you thrown out long ago. You taint our name and have no respect for decency. You’re just like father; weak and a fool. Always thinking without your brain.”
“So with my heart?” you spat at him, “how dare you take father’s name in vain! He’s more of a man, father, and lord than you will be ever be.”
“And look where that got him,” he reminded you of the harsh reality that your favorite person, the one that you had idolized growing up, was gone, “an early grave.”
“He was ill-”
“It does matter. I am lord now and you will obey me,” he shook his head, “you know, mother was smart to finally marry you off. At least you will be able to take the name of Martell and will stop bringing shame to ours. You are no sister of mine, you can join these...barbarians, become one of them,”
“If I see you again, it will be on your deathbed,” you insisted, feeling a tears of sheer anger roll down your cheeks, as your body trembled with frustration, “I guarantee it. You are no brother of mine.”
He glowered at you before turning around and storming off, his robes trailing behind him. You’d never shared a great appreciation or love for him, but this was a harsh blow nonetheless. Your family, the only one you’d ever know was so content to just cart you off. You wondered how long he had waited for this day - but it didn’t matter. Just like that you had no more home in Honeyholt. Sunspear, and Dorne, was your home now. Even if it was a life you did not desire, at least it would be your own.
“I’m sorry,” Asha appeared at your side, a concerned expression on her face at the heated exchanged. You choked back the few sobs that threatened to bubble up in your throat. You’d essentially just lost the little bit of family you had, “I did not expect such a response. Family means much to Dornishmen, sweet dove. You will never have to feel alone or unloved here.”
“Thank you,” you gave her a small smile, “I hope my family does not dishonor Prince Doran. I have not even meet the man who is to be my brother and already I bring chaos.”
“Prince Doran would never hold the actions of them against you,” she promised, “he shall be glad to meet you and welcome you into his family. As will we all. I can show you around the palace, if you so desire, and the water gardens. They’re most beautiful, especially during the peak of heat, such as this.”
“Will I meet Prince Doran today?” you were curious about meeting your new family, albeit the tiniest bit hopeful. It could be no worse than what you had just experienced.
“I’m afraid both princes will not return until tomorrow,” she explained, “however, they are preparing a feast in your honor for this evening. The Princess is here, and I am sure she will be delighted to meet you. She’s a brilliant combination of her father and uncle, and will surely revel in your company, she grows bored of monotony.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Dinner had been an...interesting affair. You’d gotten to meet the princess, her mother, and many other members of the household and those who worked for and were dear to the Martells - to your family. It was a shocking contrast to the normally reserved and quiet meals that were had in the dreary dining hall of your former home.
The large tables in the garden were laden with delicious foods from all of Dorne, including the famed Dornish wine and everyone sat together, it did not matter their rank, station, or title. They were happy, kind, and jovial, welcoming you with open arms to Sunspear and their family. It was a warmth you had not known before, but not unwelcome. It was a sight to see everyone so happy, joking and laughing, teasing each other until late into the night; they had no reservations, no fears, no inhibitions. And you loved that about them immediately.
Your heart had almost stopped when the princess had presented you with a beautiful golden bracelet, containing the Martell sun entwined with the little dove of your own house. She had gently clasped it around your wrist, before kissing your cheeks gently. You would think of her, her generosity and warmth whenever you wore it.
But even the excitement and relief that the evening had provided was not enough to stave off the tears that found you late in the evening as you sat on the balcony connected to your quarters. You’d been studying the starry night sky, admiring how it glittered over the red dunes of the desert, when you were hit with a wave of sadness that you couldn’t ward of. A few hot, warm, salty tears dripped down your cheeks as you slowly repeated the names of the constellations you could see, stopping only when a small knock came at your door.
You dabbed at your eyes and turned around to see who the visitor was, but Arianne slowly let herself in. You gave her a small smile and she joined you on the balcony, without a word, but a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“I am sorry that you must see me in such a state,” you apologized but she shook her head. She was about to open her mouth, but you stopped her with a small smile, already knowing what she was going to say, “do not apologize for being your true self.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a small laugh, rich and musical, “see you’re learning already - you’ll fit in perfectly.”
You remained silent for a moment and let out a long sigh.
“What plagues you so?” she asked gently, “besides the loss of your family?”
“Today has proven it is no real loss,” you admitted, “I am...I do not know if I can do this.”
“Marry my uncle?”
“Yes,” you said quietly, “I vowed to myself that I would never marry someone I did not love, and I know this sounds silly, but my father, before his death, always promised me that he would never send me off to do so unless I desired it. And now...”
“It is not easy.”
“No,” you sighed, a fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, “I cannot bring myself to love someone just because I am required to, nor have a desire to be treated as a sow to be used for heirs. I do not know if I can do this, to myself or your uncle.”
“I realize this is very little consolation, but I do think I might know how you to help, if only a small bit,” she had your attention and you gave her a curious glance, “think of it as a marriage only in name.”
“Only in name?”
“Precisely,” she explained, “you will marry Oberyn, and that will the end of it. You do not owe him an heir and he would never expect one from you. He has eight daughters already, some nearing your age, and he loves them dearly. They keep him busy and if you do not desire children he would never force one on you. You do not have to love him, he knows you likely never will, but just respect him; for outside purposes you will be husband and wife, but behind closed doors, and to those here in Dorne, who not care about such things, it will not matter.”
“Oh?”
“Give it some time and you will find a lover, a man or a woman, or many lovers,” she explained, “love should not be contained so willfully, unless two people desire it. you are free to explore and take as lovers as you want. You give and take love.”
“Oberyn...has a lover,” why you suddenly felt shy, you did not know. Certainly it could not be jealousy? You did not know him nor care for him, and clearly did not love him, but something inside you panged slightly. How strange it would be to be married to a man with a different lover.
“He had a lover, a paramour by the name of Ellaria Sand,” she explained and you found yourself intrigued, “she’s a most kind, generous and lovely woman, and mother to four of his daughters. She is beautiful as she is kind and still comes around often, but she has left his bed sometime ago and has returned to her childhood home in Helholt.”
“Oh?” you wondered if it had anything to do with you, but you had your doubts. What power would you, a mere child compared to his longtime lover hold?
“It was amicable, I believe. They remain friends, and both love their daughters deeply. I think a strong bond and love remains between them, but nothing romantic,” she expanded, but it did not ease your nerves, “I’m sure you will meet her at some point, she comes around not infrequently, but you have nothing to worry about. She will love you, as we already do as well. She will understand what your position as Oberyn’s wife means.”
“Does he take other lovers still?”
“As far as I know,” she shrugged, not deeply concerned with her uncle’s affairs, “anything further than that you will have to discuss among yourselves.”
“I see,” you let out a long sigh and let your shoulders slump, finding little solace in her words. She was trying her best, but it did not chase away all your fears, “still I...”
“Remember,” she said softly, “name only. You will not have be with him, in his presence, any more than you desire. He will grant you many liberties and freedoms. The ways things work between a husband and wife are very different here in Dorne than in the North. You will not be confined to the palace or your husband, you will have your own voice here.”
“Such a strange concept,” you mused as she shrugged, “all my life I’ve been told that my only goal in life is to behave, marry a nobleman, and bear him children. Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Welcome to Dorne, sweet dove,” Arianne pressed a light kiss to the side of your head, before moving to leave your chambers, leaving you alone with your thoughts, “and welcome to House Martell.”
You watched her go without another word, envying her easy going personality and liveliness. She’s known this her whole life, and yet she was so happy; maybe there was something to this Dornish way of life. Maybe you could find some purchase here and make a happy little life for yourself. With or without your husband at your side.
You straightened up and stretched, raising your arms above your head as you looked at the moon, shining among the stars. Maybe...this did not have to be as bad as you had originally thought; maybe Dorne could be your own sanctuary. Your head was swimming with so many thoughts, and you were overwhelmed with a tiredness you had not known in ages. You walked back into your bedchamber, leaving the doors open to let in the warm evening breeze. It was quiet now, a quiet that you’d never really experience. Peaceful.
Oberyn watched you moved back inside from his spot in the courtyard of the palace. He and Doran had returned early, at his behest, but not early enough for a proper introduction. He been curious to meet his bride, the wild girl from the North that refused to be tamed. He had overheard you and Arianne, listening intently to your every word, clinging on to them to try and figure out how to best serve you. He wanted you to be happy, he hoped you would be, and if you wanted nothing to do with him, then he would respect that as well.
Whatever you desired, Oberyn Martell was going to make sure you had it.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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Victory Red | Prologue/Teaser
Synopsis: The red string of fate (or pure coincidence) draws young Cubs Leader, Pat, to Button House one year. There she’s able to see and hear one ghost and one ghost only: the Captain. Each summer camp after that, Pat returns with her troop - and the Captain falls slowly but helplessly in love. In the middle of the Captain’s war with her identity and her feelings for Pat - married mother Pat who is definitely straight and still very much alive - there’s an accident on the archery range. With both their paths merged together suddenly and permanently, can feelings stay buried forever?
[Listen to the Victory Red playlist on Spotify]
Prologue (Teaser)
Every year, the Captain waited for summer. She loved the smell of the cut grass, the explosion of wildflowers, the sun on the lake, but she loved something else the most: the sound of a familiar Northern accent filling the field beyond her window like birdsong. She couldn’t mark the date on a calendar but her internal clock was as good as the day she died; she could anticipate Pat’s arrival as easily as a rainstorm.
What a similar force of nature Pat was, too. A sunny disposition bursting behind nutmeg freckles and sky blue eyes. Her laugh seemed to carry for miles and her attitude was infectious, inspiring the Captain for the length of each stay to hold her head a little higher too. There was always a spring in her step with Pat around.
It was the fourth year that Pat had brought her patrol for a weekend of camping and activities, and she had been the definitive highlight of the previous three. Her Cub Scouts hung on every word Pat said the way that they always did and the Captain felt similarly, so hooked on her voice that she sat for hours at the edge of the field to simply watch and listen. She was impressive, enamouring, and bright. She was also so very alive.
The most painful part of all, however, was that Pat could see her all the same.
It didn’t stop there. After the sun would set and the boys were safely in their tents, they would sit by the lake for hours - hours that went by much too fast - talking like there wasn’t a whole plane of existence separating them. Each year that they learned a little more about the other, the Captain was pulled deeper into her orbit. It was as though she shone the brightest when Pat was there, encapsulated, and Pat slipped beneath her skin before she could stop it.
The way Pat made her feel evaded understanding, it refused to be named, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter when the Captain learned about Pat’s husband and her son and their semi-detached house in Yorkshire, or when Pat learned that the Captain had served in the war, that her tunic and skirt weren’t a costume after all but real. It didn’t matter when Pat laughed and said how strange it was that one of her best friends was a ghost. She tried so hard not to let it sting.
It began to matter more, hurtling into clearer view, when Pat arrived the third year and confessed to her that she’d thought she had seen the odd ghost as a child. She’d chalked it up to an overactive imagination, nothing but make-believe, until the day they had met right there on the grounds of the old country estate.
Pat arrived that first year like a cool breeze one humid morning at Button House. It was much too early for any of the other ghosts but the Captain was already on her regular jog when she heard the sound of a bus engine. She swiftly abandoned the rest of her route, gripped with curiosity.
It soon gave way to a unique affliction upon seeing Pat for the first time, her dark brown mullet and gold-rimmed glasses catching in the early light. It was a confusing squeeze of the chest that made her want to hide, yet also a bubbling giddiness she hadn’t felt for a very, very long time.
The Captain watched as Pat led her boys in setting up their campsite and for a while, the Captain went unnoticed. She assumed it would remain that way, always an unseen ghost or a cold spot to the living; incorporeal. So when Pat’s head suddenly snapped up and their eyes met across the small stretch of grass between them, the Captain felt her whole world turn on its axis.
#victory red#patcap#patcap fanfic#patcap fanart#lesbian patcap#my fic#g: fanfic#bbc ghosts fanart#mine
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