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justanerdgirl · 2 years

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Some excerpts from The Lone Wanderer by Tatyana Grigoryeva, 1967 (part 2)

This book contains an essay on life and literary activity of Japanese writer Kunikida Doppo. In addition to it, one can get some new intrresting information about the literary tendencies of the end of the 19th - beginning of the 20th century.

It is my own translation from Russian. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry in advance for all the misspellings and strange-looking grammatical constructions. Please, enjoy!

...He asked the Lord to reveal to him the secrets of the world, to inspire his faith. But God did not heed his entreaties, did not shed the grace on him, did not save him from doubts. And so, in Saeki Doppo doubted God.

June 1894. The newspapers are full of disturbing reports. Events in Korea portend a war. God remains calm.

The human world is rolling into the abyss. People are blind, unintelligent, they're bringing their own death closer. In comparison to them, nature seems to him wiser and more significant.

"Everyone is talking about the incident in Korea now. And the moon in the mountains is as bright as usual. A poor woman is struggling in her miserable hovel, drowning in worries and grief. And flowers are curling up the fence, birds are soaring in the clouds..."

But nature didn't give him any comfort either. "Life on this earth is an empty illusion. People are sufferers. The nature is insensitive and cold. Why won't the light of truth come down on me? I have no desires, no faith, no peace... There is no God in me. There is no majestic, sacred, exalted god in me. Maybe he exists somewhere in the universe, but there is no true faith in him in my heart. I need faith only in good, compassionate, kind God... There is a crisis in Korea. It looks like there will be a war between us and China. What are you doing, humanity?"

Who to expect help from? "Lord, send me faith! Does it mean that all people, all the humanity is an illusion? When will the globe disappear? And nature? Is it also an illusion?" There was no answer. The things that were happening in the world proved the unreasonableness of its creator.

August 18, 1894. "So the Japan-China war began. Two great Eastern nations stand on the edge of disaster. Soldiers are shedding blood in the foreign land. The widows are quietly crying in their shacks. I don't know what the true meaning of the story directed by the Lord is... Oh heavens, please, shed light on my soul! Look, people are killing each other! Nations are groaning, nations are fighting. And the ones next to them dance, and laugh, and sing. What does it all mean? What do you mean, the life of humanity? Oh heavens, is everything an illusion? Is war also an illusion? My God, I'm begging you, help me, save me from this torment!"

God did not heed. And Doppo understood: "My faith is not a fire, it is a smoke."

The more he moved away from God, the closer he became to human. June 1894: "No, the importance of human is great. The life of the universe and the nature has become my life, and my life has become the life of the universe, the nature... Does being interested in another person not help you to know yourself?"

Human is a single one with nature: "Without thinking about nature, it is not possible to think about human. I, being a human, cannot think about nature without thinking about humanity."

August 27, 1894: "The light is a human. Where is the light that would illuminate the darkness of human life? I can answer — in a person. And I believe in it. I believe in it more and more."

He continued to clarify his relationship with God and in October 1894 he asked: "Why does faith in God not give me satisfaction? I cannot bring my earthly desires into line with the true way of God in any way. Maybe that's the reason why I have no peace".

He would have moved away from faith much faster if he didn't need it. He, in fact, was afraid of losing it completely. If you don't rely on God, who do you rely on? He continued to pray to God for help, but in those prayers he expressed himself like this: "Oh Lord, help me and my brothers to find the path of freedom and independence, help us break the shackles of our life. Please, teach me how to achieve the liberation!"

God was silent. "Oh Lord, why can't I feel your grace... Tell me what I have to do for the goodness of mankind!.. Save me from despair. Help me to love the world and think about people", Doppo wrote on June 11, 1894, and two days later: "People are being deceived by immortality!.. Look at the ministers of the church! The greed alone!"

But it was even more painful not to believe. "I am a Christian, so why can't I follow this teaching with all my heart? Is it because the Christian teaching, the Bible, does not reveal the awesomeness of the world and human life?"

And at the end of his journey, the terminally ill writer reflected on God: "Why does God not descend to earth? I think that God is our self-consciousness. The path of God is as difficult to trace as the path of a bird... Death is death. There is neither God nor immortality... Uemura Masahisa* was the first to enter my heart. The key to my soul was in his hands. With this key I wanted to get rid of my suffering. I believed that Uemura would save my soul, which was struggling between life and death. But he asked me to pray. He told me: «If you pray, it will become easier for you». But I couldn't pray. The prayer did not touch me. As light the phrase of prayer was, as heavy was its spirit. And a heart that cannot pray cannot be saved."

Doppo lived in Saeki for a year. No matter how much he loved nature, he could not stay away from the main events for long. "The beauty of nature is not combined here with the beauty of the human heart. It is difficult to find a common language with the village people. How I want to go to Tokyo!". The capital both frightened and attracted him. He returned to Tokyo and at the suggestion of Tokutomi Sohō began to collaborate with the newspaper "Kokumin Shinbun", published by "Minyūsha" ("Society of Friends of the People").

However, Doppo did not show much zeal, and in his diary he confessed: "Although I serve in the Minyūsha and take the matter seriously, I feel that there still will be nothing out of me except a poet. My vocation, my duty is to be a prophet of a new world".

Doppo got involved in urban life, but did not find any peace. In September, he complained in a letter to his friend Nakagiri: "What should I do? Should I be writing short stories, composing poetry, riding a horse and killing people or giving the lectures from a pulpit? The beauty of nature, mountains, rivers, the beauty of the sunset, herbs, forests — all this leaves me."

On October 2, he wrote in his diary: "I listened to a sermon by Uemura Masahisa in the church. Yesterday I was told that I would go to a ship as a war correspondent. What should I do? «Life, death, faith, fate, work.» Why would I go to the warship? Because I serve a newspaper? But couldn't I live freely in the mountains and forests? What a death! I will die anyway... This world is more likely to give me the freedom of death."

On October 19, 1894, the war correspondent Kunikida Tetsuo appeared on the ship. They sailed to the shores of China.

October 22: "I decided to describe the events in the form of letters to my brother. For the first time I saw a Korean house, for the first time I saw how Koreans live... The war. The rivers of blood. The warship. And all these are facts of human life!"

On October 24: "We landed on the coast of China... I begin to forget about the great nature, I lead a life that no one needs. Here, in the war, you become insensitive...You begin to despise yourself."

The newspaper was waiting for a report celebrating the bravery of Japanese soldiers. Doppo, who believed in his saving mission, became an unwitting accomplice of evil.

His soul was petrified. He wrote reports from the battlefield, but he could neither understand nor justify the war. In his essays called "Letters to My Beloved Brother" he wrote: "War is a terrible, stinking word. It is the devil's curse for man. It crawls like a snake from century to century, from country to country. We are used to hearing, pronouncing, reading the word "death", but we have no idea what it is. Only after seeing the corpses of people, you can understand what death is."

"Letters to My Beloved Brother" were a success. In March 1895, Doppo returned to Tokyo and continued to work for the newspaper. What did he go through, what did the war teach him? July 1895: "Man is a selfish being. And his feelings are selfish. The world is blind. There is no meaning, no purpose... They commit suicide and kill without any difficulty... I have to become cold and reasonable"...

*Uemura Masahisa (15 January 1858 – 8 January 1925) was a Japanese Christian pastor, theologian and critic of Meiji and Taishō periods.

To be continued

#literature #japanese literature #reading #bsd #irl bsd #bungo stray dogs #kunikida doppo #translation

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chenbox · 6 years

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anyways feeling pretty mcfuckin depressed tonight!! love hating my life and feeling like shit who knows this one 😪💘gn

#god I literally cannot wait for June to come faster #I literally feel like shit and I don't want to cry but god #also.... yeah I complain a lot so sorry if you didn't want to sign up for the emo express #p

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

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All flavours of wrong (part 1)

Masterlist Part 2

Pairing: Loki x Reader (gender neutral) (reader gets called princess and Queen mockingly, but it can have no gender connotations, just as in a joke).

Summary: You got an arranged marriage with the firstborn prince of Asgard, inheritor of the crown, God of Thunder. But your heart has other plans, that your brain cannot yet comprehend. And on Loki’s side it’s not getting easy either.

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: Sexual tension (a lot). And honestly not much more? Mentions of blood.

I used prompt #293 and prompt #279 from @creativepromptsforwriting to take me out of a block, so thank you so much to this page, it’s incredibly useful! I recommend all writers to check it out.

“Thor”, whispered Loki. But since his four failed attempts at calling him discreetly went wrong, he stepped on his foot under the table, making him spill wine all over his trousers.

“For Gods’ sake, brother, what do you want?”.

“Well, finally. Are you ignoring me? I’ve been trying to get your attention all dinner”.

“Yes, of course I’ve been ignoring you”, said as if it were obvious. It wasn’t.

“Why?”, Loki asked, trying to not sound hurt.

“You know why”, muttered under his breath, faking a smile when his gaze met his mother’s. “And shut up, we’re not supposed to talk if Allfather is not here yet”.

“Look, if it’s because I set on fire your History books, get over it, it’s not like you were doing great with that anyways”.

“You… you did what? It was you?”.

“Yes, of course. Oh, you didn’t know. Well, what are you ignoring me for, then? Ah, I know. Is it because I broke the…”.

“How many things of mine have you been destroying lately?”, Thor raised his voice slightly.

“Boys, enough”, interrupted Frigga. “Cut it off, your Father will be here soon”.

The siblings went back to their plates, and Loki kept stealing glances at his brother, trying to figure out what was wrong. Thor was nervous; his leg kept bouncing and bouncing, he barely touched his food (which was very suggestive, given that he usually ate it all in two mouthfuls), and he was refilling his cup with the strongest wine of the table, as if he needed to loosen up for something. Loki decided it was better off to just pay attention to what would come next. It was evident his Father would be bringing the thing that made Thor so nervous.

And then it hit him; it was already June.

The previous year Odin announced the possibility of an arranged marriage to whoever was winning on the competition for the throne, if he hadn't gotten anywhere near a possible royal companion. Thor was winning, by far; of course. And he didn’t show any partner, or even the possibility of a future partner, so no wonder why he was so nervous.

Loki went back to his plate, not sure how to feel. Annoyed, that was for sure. He knew he wasn’t going to be King (at least not until his brother died, if he didn’t die first), but the preparations for his inheritance got there faster than he expected. It was all too quick. And the disappointment grew bigger the more he thought of it. His father was not even giving him the chance to get better in the competition, and instead he just assumed it was Thor who’d win. Frustrating. Obvious, but still frustrating.

The doors opened and a young and bright warrior followed the footsteps of Odin. He, with a smile from ear to ear, waited until getting the attention of everyone, and, directly looking into Thor’s eyes, introduced you with your full name and current social status. Loki couldn’t stop staring with his lips slightly parted.

That was it. That was what annoyed him the most. His brother got to marry that.

He just couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked fast to see if there was something deceiving his perception, if maybe his whole family arranged a joke to him, if maybe that little warrior was an illusion casted by his Mother to laugh at how unfortunate he must have been looking at that moment. At the moment he realized his brother was marrying the perfect partner for Loki. You were, at least in the physical sense, his literal type. He was baffled.

And that didn’t go unnoticed by Thor either, who stole a glance from him and chuckled mockingly. Loki went red of embarrassment and tried his best to hide from you, to avoid your gaze, but he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He felt hypnotized, and bothered. You didn’t look at him. You looked everywhere but him. You were amazed by the palace, by everyone around you. It was obvious you were not familiar with a royal life.

“You seem bewildered, brother”, Thor whispered in his ear.

“And you don’t seem as astonished as you should, brother”, he answered with levels of sarcasm in his tone he didn’t even know he had.

“I shouldn’t, this is merely formal”.

“You’re marrying them. It’s not entirely formal. It’s a whole future and family”, Loki discussed, but he knew his brother didn’t care about it enough. His brother didn’t even want the throne that badly, yet he was the one getting it. More and more frustration flowed through Loki’s veins. He kept staring at you with a frown. “Besides, look at that piece of art”.

He looked so tough, so serious, until you stared back. No, you didn’t even stare. You looked up and found his eyes. He quickly softened his expressions as you gifted him a gentle smile. His heart skipped a beat.

And just with a smile he knew, he was completely fucked.

Loki closed his eyes and shut his fists as hard as he could, trying to focus and concentrate only on what he was supposed to. The spell.

But you were looking, and it was hard.

A week passed by, and you were already living in the palace, bonding with your future husband and trying to learn as much as possible from the new life you would acquire once the wedding passed. You met him everywhere; in the halls, on the meals, on the trainings, on the classes; everywhere. He had no means to escape you. Nor did he want to. But he couldn’t get used to that horrible and sweet feeling of his chest getting tighter, face warmer and balance unsteadier when he saw you.

“You’ve got this, Loki. We’ve been over this”, Frigga said from the other side of the training room. “Just remember what we practiced yesterday”. But the only thing Loki remembered from yesterday was when he was trying to train that same spell and you were, at the same time, practicing your archery skills outside. Sweaty. Tired. Ecstatic. Smiley. Red.

He opened his eyes and dropped his arms, completely giving up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do even a simple spell in front of you.

“What is it that’s distracting you so much, son? You have your head too full for this”, Frigga commented, getting closer to him.

“I’m simply tired, Mother. Don’t worry about it, had a poor night of sleep”.

“Well, get it together for this afternoon. We’re trying again after you get some rest, alright?”.

“Yes, Mother”.

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation prince Loki and the Queen had. You were way too focused on how uncomfortable the clothes you had to wear were in you. You could barely breathe, and had to fix your posture to avoid choking. Besides, you could feel prince Thor’s eyes on you, and somehow it made you extremely uncomfortable.

You knew you would marry him. Then why couldn’t you at least fake a little bit of interest in him?

You redirected your attention to prince Loki, once again, and the corset was not the only thing that made your breathing harder. Gods, and for the Nine Realms, the prince’s training clothes were something else. Not even compared to Thor’s tank top and weird-looking shorts; Loki’s were almost made exactly for him and his silhouette. Black leather pants and top covering him almost entirely, tight even where it shouldn’t be that tight. Gold endings everywhere and little patterns in his long sleeves and trousers; details that only made it harder for you to not look. But you didn’t even know where to look, if you looked.

Well, you knew exactly where you should’ve been looking. To your side. The blonde and huge man with the big hammer that promised you a crown, a throne and a good place for your family to live in.

You shook your head, and got up to make yourself some tea, hoping the wrong thoughts would fall off your brain and you’d finally come to your senses.

Once you made it to the kitchen, you realized you shouldn’t have gotten there by your own. Unable to get used to the fact that if you wanted some tea you should ask for the maids to make it for you (as with everything, even the clothes you would wear, the foods you’d eat, the way the bed should be made, and an infinite etcetera), you ignored it and put the kettle on the fire.

You tried to reach for the tea box on the countertop, and stood on your toes, failing to even touch it with the tips of your fingers. As you turned around to look for a chair to climb to, you blundered against the God of Mischief’s chest.

“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry”, he apologized, taking a step back. “I was about to get the tea box for you”. You felt yourself completely red.

“It’s… it’s fine, thank you. I’m sorry” you stuttered nervously, with the echoing feeling of his torso against your arms and chest, making you blush even more. You wondered if he did that accidentally.

He smirked slightly and reached for the box effortlessly, making deep eye contact. Was he… was he flirting, somehow? you asked yourself. No, of course he wasn’t. That would be a hundred percent inappropriate, and he was completely appropriate and polite all the time. Even when he shouldn’t have. So, what was that about? Did he usually look at people like that?

“Breaking some rules, I see?”, he added after a painful minute of silence in where you chose the tea and mug. You turned around and realized he was still staring.

“What?”.

“You shouldn’t be the one making the tea, you know”.

“Yes, I know”, you answered calmly, trying to not show the tremble in your voice. Just the presence of that God in the same room made you feel… tiny. Weak. Maybe in a good way. No, definitely in a bad way; he shouldn’t be making you feel anything, for that matter. “And we shouldn’t be in the same room all alone”.

“Are you kicking me out?”.

“Just stating a fact”.

“Hm”.

“And offering you some illegal tea”.

He smiled. You were way too good for Thor, he thought. You would be bored if you married him. You had the trouble spark in your eyes and Loki was the perfect companion for that. It was so evident you were made for each other; then why would his parents think you would be better off with Thor? He was still clueless at how they could’ve made such an imprudent and blind decision.

“I’d love to, princess”.

You chuckled. “Princess? Really?”.

“Not good?”.

“No”. He lowered his gaze and put a strand of hair behind an ear. “Which kind would you like?”.

He stepped closer to you; so much closer that you could feel his slow breathing grazing your forehead. You tried your best to not rise your head and sink in his sharp features. He grabbed with two fingers a tea bag from the box you were holding. Your hands were trembling slightly. He then got a little bit closer (even though you didn’t think that was possible), slowly stretched his arm and picked up a mug that was conveniently behind you. As soon as he stepped away, you realized you held your breath the whole time.

“Are you alright? You look nervous”, he mocked, which only made you even more embarrassed.

“I suggest you stay in your place, prince Loki”, you said, trying to get back to reality. It was not okay. You could not flirt in any way or form with your future husband’s brother. Wrong. Wrong! All flavours of wrong.

“Suggestion denied”, he said with the same troublesome smirk from before, that still hadn’t wiped off his face. “And you can call me Loki”.

“I will not”, you said, filling his mug with the boiling water. “And you’ll call me by my full name, as you should”.

“You know, in our actual position… you should be the one recieving my orders”, he said, lowering his already deep voice. You swallowed, but tried to keep a determined and confident look on your face.

“Which are...?”. You knew you’d regret even asking, but he was right. He still was your prince, and you still were a mere warrior. He raised an eyebrow.

“Call me Loki”.

“Or?”.

“Well…”, he whispered raspily. You felt he was about to step closer to you again, but the voice of one of his tutors interrupted his flirting.

“What on the Realm are you two doing in here without an escort?”.

“Terribly sorry”, you muttered while you rapidly left the kitchen. Loki stood there, observing you leave and sighed. His tutor looked at him with disapproval and he simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled innocently.

But he had already decided, you were going to be his.

You couldn’t help but to wander the palace as much as you could. The place was enormous and nothing compared to anything you’ve seen before. You only knew the tiny houses you grew up in Asgard, and the occasional visit to other Realm’s palace in the middle of a battle.

But you had to be careful. Nobody would approve you nosing everywhere, much less at those hours of the night. But, well, it was the perfect time, because the palace would not only be empty, but also illuminated by only the soft glimmering of the candlelights. It was gorgeous.

You roamed around through the hallways, until the sharp sound of a fall stopped you dead on your tracks. The sound was followed by an “ugh, fuck” from a particularly familiar voice, and your curiosity grew bigger. What was prince Loki doing at those hours in… the library, was it? You thought, as you tried to read the sign in the doorframe. All signs had to be in old Norse, of course. And you could barely speak it, let alone read it in the dark.

Peeping from the entrance, you got to see what the prince was doing. With a big and dusty book on one hand and a frown in his face, he was trying to make a pile of books from the floor levitate.

He shut his eyes close and once again, pointed at the books with the palm of his hand. A green light surrounded the objects and two of the three books got suspended in the air. With effort, prince Loki pushed harder upwards to make the third book levitate too, but soon got tired and the rest of the pile fell to the wooden floor again, making the same sound that brought you there in the first place.

He then left the open book he was holding over one of the tables and tried again, this time with both of his hands. In around five minutes he got to make the three books fly above his head, as if they were dancing. His eyes glittered and an ear-to-ear smile lit his face. You’ve never seen him smile so innocently, so childishly before.

How adorable, you thought, as you leaned on the doorframe. But the smile on his face got interrupted when you sloped wrongly over the door and fell down with a sound that felt more like a scream than a subtle gasp.

Loki ran to see where that sound came from, and found your flustered face on his feet, trying your best to not look too embarrassed by the fact that you were hovering, or even spying on him.

“May I help you with something, princess?”, he held your hand to help you up, but didn’t let it out when you were already on your feet.

“Thank you. And, please, don’t call me princess”, you said, freeing yourself of his hand.

“‘Please, don’t call me princess’? Darling, you’re begging for the wrong things in here”. You got chills from the seductive tone of his voice, and tried to ignore it through a laugh. There was nothing else to do but to hope he wouldn’t notice how blushed you’d gotten.

“It’s not appropriate that you keep flirting with me, Mischief”.

“I like that nickname”.

“Did you even listen to me?”.

“Yes, I know. You don’t want me to flirt with you because you’re afraid of being inappropriate. But, between us, which one was the one stalking the other one in the middle of the night?”.

“I wasn’t stalking. I was simply observing and hoping you wouldn’t notice”.

“That’s the dictionary definition of stalking, my dear”.

You sighed. There was no point in arguing with him. He would know if you lied; and that’s probably why he kept flirting. Because he knew you didn’t mean it when you corrected him. You liked it. You truly enjoyed it.

“What are you doing?”, you asked after a while, pointing at the floating books that were now almost touching the roof.

“I really need to focus for this one in particular. If I need silence and emptiness, this place and time are usually a good idea. Unless, of course, there’s a little spy falling off the doorframe”.

“Sorry about that”, you chuckled, and he smirked.

“It’s fine, I basically finished it anyways”.

“Looks like you mastered it, though”, you complimented. Loki looked at you with a little smile.

“Well, I…”. He was about to answer you, but you reached out for a strand of hair on his face and moved it behind his ear. The books fell off abruptly, and Loki did his best to cover you from their impact, covering your whole body with an embrace. He didn’t let go of the hug, but looked at your face with shame. “I’m truly sorry. I got.. surprised, I guess”.

“Don’t worry. And sorry, didn’t mean to make you nervous”.

“Nervous?”.

“Or surprised, whatever”.

“You’re right, though”. He smiled gently once more and lowered his gaze. “You make me feel things, little warrior”.

“Prince Loki, you really shouldn’t…”.

“I can say it, you don’t need to answer it”. You sighed and gave him a knowing look. “If it makes you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop. If not, let me flirt with you. I don’t need you to flirt back”. You laughed at his proposition and he stared, waiting for a confirmation.

“Fine. But don’t call me princess. You make it sound diminishing”.

“As you wish, my Queen”.

“Oh my God”.

“Precisely”.

You both giggled and tried to keep it down just in case somebody else was awake. The moonlight making its way through the gigantic windows of the library were the only lightning, and the sharp features of the God became even more fascinating by the contrast. His eyes looked deeper. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you with them. You felt naked at his eye, and maybe not in a bad sense.

"What are you thinking about?", he asked after a while. You were both in silence, contemplating each other. Oddly, it wasn't uncomfortable. With Thor, on the other hand, you only felt uncomfortability; even if it wasn't an awkward situation, you knew you were not welcomed by him. Maybe not even his friendship.

"I'm… I think I should get going".

"Why?" he asked, and immediately grabbed your hand. "Stay".

"It's late. Thor might awake and not find me there".

"So?".

"Let's not cause a scandal, Mischief. I have to do what I have to do".

"Maybe you don't have to", he insisted, and you rolled your eyes. With a sigh, he let go off your hand. "I understand. I know you'll be better off like this".

"Yes, I will", you said, faking confidence. Maybe it was your sleep deprived brain that couldn't see right, maybe it was the sudden urge to do what you wanted instead of what you needed; either way, you lingered your way out.

He waited for you to go, but you stayed a little longer, delaying the sneaking back to bed with the man you didn't want to be with. You just needed one reason, only one reason to stay.

"Good night, darling", he said after a while. He knew better than to ruin your future and reputation for his selfish desires. He didn’t want to let you go, he wanted you to be his and only his. But he knew better than to make you a part of his brotherly quarrels. He appreciated you enough to keep you out of it.

"Good night, Loki".

He smiled as you walked away. As much as he shouldn’t have, he got you to call him by just his name.

Not even two weeks passed by and everyone around him already suspected the obvious; the mischievous and rebellious brother was trying to make Thor’s partner fall in love with him. What not everyone knew was that it was completely working.

The stolen glances from up the shoulders in every meeting, every dinner, every event. The long walks around the Gardens, talking about literature, magic and general life. The trainings in one-to-one combat with him that lasted a bit longer than with the rest of the trainers. And you couldn’t help but smile at everything he said or did; it was so much harder than one could think, to hide such thing from Queen Frigga; she saw it all and knew better than everyone in romance. She also knew better than anyone both of her sons, and it was evident how they both felt about you. Because Thor’s stone cold indifference wasn’t one to go unnoticed as well.

In dinner, Loki was again sitting by Thor’s side, and couldn’t help but to chatter about the subject that bothered him so much.

“They’s late, brother; you’ll marry a terribly mannered warrior”, he mocked. Thor rolled his eyes and contraatacked.

“At least I’m marrying them”.

“You say it as if I wanted to”.

“Please”, Thor scoffed.

“Marriage is a boundary. I merely desire them”.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to hold their hand from the Throne, or to put a crown on their head”, mocked Thor. Loki sushed him, because he was completely right. Loki would’ve loved to gently caress your hair and kiss your pink cheeks, to fidget with your ring as he held you in the mornings and nights. Gods, he was lost.

“I do not, anyways. But if you plan on borrowing me wedding night and spare you the annoyance you’d feel by bedding them… I agree”.

“Will you keep on making sexual jokes to avoid real feelings all your life or do you grow up after the 1100 year?”.

You opened the door and got in with your head low and breathing unsteady, embarrassed and apologizing. The princes stopped the chattering and followed you with their eyes. Loki didn’t even hide his expressions of pure and raw desire. Your hair was a disaster, and you were still in your ripped warrior clothes, covered in mud, blood and scratches. The dagger strapped to your thigh was, too, covered in blood.

“Hot”, said Loki, unintentionally louder than he should have. Dear, he loved when you looked like a threatening mess.

“What?”, you asked in a breath, still agitated.

“Eh, hold. Hold the door, I meant”, he corrected himself (everyone was looking, even the guests, and he knew better than to be that inappropriate on certain occasions). But you knew exactly what he said and smirked slightly, just enough for him to notice.

“You were saying… you didn’t want to?”, whispered Thor just before Loki got up and walked through the tables. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do, but if he said ‘hold the door’ he had to keep it verosimil, didn’t he?

As he walked past you, slowing down, he whispered “library, tonight”. And then left the dining room, leaving an even more blushed you to imagine what could he possibly want from you. And your imagination was not precisely innocent.

You took a deep breath and held it for a minute before getting inside. After wandering around the bookshelves, you noticed the room was still empty. Maybe too early? It was barely midnight. Everyone was already asleep and the Palace was, as every night, dead silent.

You sat on the couch and caressed the texture with the tip of your fingers. Was he coming? Did he say it just to make you blush in lunch? Perhaps he was messing with you. He was the God of Lies and Mischief after all, wasn’t he?

After ten minutes you stood up and decided to look for something to read. You wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, so might as well make the most of the night; with or without prince Loki.

You walked slowly, reading carefully every title. If something had your attention, you’d read it on that beautiful velvet couch, in front of the fireplace. Even grab a mug of coffee, to keep you up until you finish your readings. The plan sounded marvelous, but you couldn’t help but to feel disappointed you wouldn’t spend the night with him.

You weren’t expecting to actually get physical, of course. He was not your fiancé and would never be. He was barely a lover. Not even that. He was the man you loved and desired, yes. But merely platonic. It wouldn’t go any further. It couldn’t go any further.

But you were expecting to have that precious alone time he gifted you in the nights, where everything was off and both of you were the only flame alive in the whole Kingdom. The glances he threw at you, the smiles he drew to let you know you were appreciated; you were wanted, you were loved by him.

As you reached for one of the books, a bigger hand wrapped around yours and the book, making you gasp.

“Hello”, he whispered in your ear, earning a shiver from you. Just that, he didn’t need to do any more than that to set on all your alarms and get your face redder and hotter than ever.

You turned around and smiled. He didn’t move away; in fact, he raised both his arms to your sides and locked you between him and the bookshelf.

“Seems like you won’t let me go away, won’t you?”.

“I don’t think you would even if I gave you the opportunity”.

“And how are you so sure about that?”.

“You came here, as I asked you to”.

“So?”.

“Are you actually going to play dumb?”.

You both laughed slightly, still not wanting to make a single noise. He got a few inches closer, and you did too. You raised a hand and fondled his hair. Moved your hand all the way from up his ear to down his neck. He slowly slipped down one hand to your waist and the other one to your collarbone, making the same deep eye contact he made with such lust; that desire he always looked at you, but amplified to a hundred and ten percent.

Now both of your hands were cupping his face. He was warm. And smiley. And… God, gorgeous. Godly gorgeous, as he always was. You traced with your fingers his cheekbones, his jaw, his neck. You sighed.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered, getting even closer. His breathing was slow and you could feel it on your face. His question was barely audible, yet so strongly loud to you.

May he kiss you? May you kiss him? You weren’t supposed to be even that close with him. You weren’t allowed. You shouldn’t look at him the way you did. Or touch him the way you wanted to. But there he was, asking to kiss you. And you had no other words in your vocabulary else than;

“Please”.

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let-it-raines · 3 years

Text

I Hope We Never See October (2/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Thank you guys for reading the first part of this! I cannot say enough how much I appreciate all of you and how glad I am little things like this bring you guys joy! Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading over these words. ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: One | Two

-/-

“Emma, the couple at table two wants to talk to you, and the woman at table seven has a complaint about the quiche. Something about there being eggs in them.”

Emma groans and closes her laptop to look at Ashley, one of the new waitresses she hired this summer. She’s good, courteous, and she’s always here on time. Emma is going to hate to lose her for a few weeks when she has her baby, but come hell or high water, the girl is getting maternity leave even if Emma can’t manage more than three weeks without the owner getting involved and likely trying to fire all of them. She deserves months more than that, but Emma can’t change the system.

It’s a shit system, especially for moms.

“They don’t want eggs…in their quiche? Are you serious?”

“She’s vegan and claims she’s been misled.”

Emma rolls her eyes and stands from her chair. She pulls her jean shorts down, the frayed edges covering just a little more thigh, and unties the bottom of her button-down. She probably needs to start dressing up more for this job, but she can’t be bothered. She managed to wear her Blue Dog Tavern polo last week, so that seems like enough effort. “We have symbols on the menu to indicate dietary restrictions, but this isn’t really a restaurant for dietary restrictions beyond one or two items. I’ll deal with it. Thanks, Ashley.”

It’s Sunday morning, which is their second busiest time after Friday and Saturday nights, and the Blue Dog is packed. It’s all hands on deck this morning, but Emma was hoping to get some scheduling and produce ordering done in her office during it. But this is a restaurant, so of course there’s never any time for a breather when she needs it the most. She’ll finish all that later, she guesses, because she has a feeling neither of these conversations are going to be a short one.

And she’s right about that. The woman hating on the quiche pitches a fit and demands her money back before threatening to sue the place and, quite frankly, threatening to cut off Emma’s legs, and Emma has to resolve that without losing her cool when all she wants to do is punch jerks like that straight across the jaw. Then the couple at table two asks her to run through every item on the menu and whether or not everything is organically sourced.

They serve fried mac and cheese balls at ten in the morning and have kitschy, slightly tacky artwork nailed onto the darkly stained wood. If you eat outside on the patio, you get a nice view of people taking off a little more than they should while sunbathing on the surrounding beaches and docked boats. There’s also the occasional ferry that drives by and blows a loud horn that tourists seem to get a kick out of. Do they really think everything is organically sourced?

God, sometimes she really hates tourists.

This is a nice place, though. It’s not somewhere you go for fine dining, but their brunch is divine, it’s got a good atmosphere, and the new bartenders she’s hired this summer make better drinks than you can get at any reasonably priced bar in a ten-mile radius. She likes this little part of the island, and even though she hates tourists, they do fund her entire life. So maybe she hates them a little less than usual when the paychecks roll in.

Today is not a day where the paycheck is rolling in.

Emma notices some of the tables are a little slow, so she picks up the slack, getting drinks and refills and checking on meals. It keeps her on her feet for most of the morning and through the lunch rush, but when it’s over, she collapses on a stool at the end of the bar.

“Chip, can you get me a coffee?” she asks without looking up. “I don’t care what milk or creamer you put in it as long as you don’t bring it to me black. Though, I think I need the caffeine so badly that I’d drink it. I don’t know why I agreed to work the late dinner shift at The Oaks last night. I’m exhausted.”

When she doesn’t get a response, she looks up for Chip. He’s nowhere to be seen, and when she checks her phone schedule, she realizes it’s his break time. Of course it is.

“Lass, I don’t believe the barkeep is here anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s his break, but I can help you. What’s your poison?”

“The coffee you’re having.”

Emma nods and turns to look at the man talking to her, and if she wasn’t so tired, she would have recognized the voice a hell of a lot faster than she did. A lot of different accents pass through this place, but he’s the first British one in awhile. Also the first one to show up in her backyard. Or the Fishers’ backyard, technically, but she’s been renting it for long enough for it to feel like her own even if she’s changed very little of the furniture and decorations outside her bedroom.

Killian. She thinks that was his name. Honestly, she’s surprised she remembers anything because she was in such a rush to get to work that she didn’t have time to deal with all the people at her house. But he was unexpected and attractive – she’s not blind to attractive men no matter what Ruby and Mary Margaret think – and he threw her off for a minute. He looked familiar, but she has no idea why. There’s no way she would have met him before.

But she also doesn’t care. She’s got a gut feeling that she needs to watch out for him, that there’s something that’s not right, and him being at her job is proving that to her. What are the odds that he’d wander in a few days after meeting her when she’s pretty sure he’s never been here before?

Then again, maybe that’s why he’s familiar. It’s June. A lot of people come through here, and she’s not going to remember all their faces. Sometimes she does, though, in the back of her mind where vague, slightly blurry memories reside.

“Sure thing,” Emma sighs, standing from the stool. “Do you have a server?”

“Aye. Heather, I believe, but…”

“But she’s on her phone.” Emma shakes her head. “My boss’s niece. Not much I can do about it, but I’ll get you your coffee, a water, and take your order right away.”

He nods, going back to his own phone, and Emma takes that as her cue to get behind the bar and start making some coffee. She doesn’t usually work this machine, so it takes her a minute to get it right all while she feels Killian staring at her.

“Do you need any suggestions on the menu?” Emma asks as the coffee percolates.

“How are the salads?”

“I prefer things with more calories, but they’re good. Our vegetables are fresh, and I personally enjoy the strawberry poppyseed with chicken, but I know not everyone loves fruit in salads.” He hums behind her as his mug fills, and she grabs some milk from the fridge under the sink, turning to show him. “Milk okay?”

“It’s perfect, Swan.” She raises her brows, which he mirrors, until he cocks his head forward and his lips form an obnoxious little smirk. “On the nametag, love.”

“Now, what did I say about being your love?”

“That you’re not.”

“Exactly.” She finishes making his coffee and hands it over. He’s a customer, she reminds herself. She’s got to try to be a little bit nicer than she wants to be. “So, the salad? If you’re looking more toward the healthy options with protein, the grilled chicken breast on its own is fantastic. You get two sides, which you can find at the bottom of the menu.”

He nods and looks at the menu for half a second before looking up. “The salad would be great. Thank you.”

He picks up his mug, pointing it toward her, and Emma takes it as a dismissal so she can put his order in, and hopefully she can get Heather to do her damn job and serve him for the rest of the meal. She doesn’t like that he knows where she lives and works, and even though she doesn’t think Ariel and Eric spend time with shady people, something about him gives her weird vibes.

His face just looks so damn familiar, and usually she’s really good remembering faces. Huh.

And Emma is usually right about these things. He’s likely nothing more than a rich man looking for a break from life by renting out a large house on the island. He’ll spend a week or two, maybe a month depending on his work situation, here, sleep with as many women as he can, and then he’ll go, never thinking of Martha’s Vineyard again. And she’s pretty sure Ariel does something having to do with high-powered people over in London, so he fits the profile. God, she must have seen him before with Ariel or something. That has to be it.

But for now, he’s a customer, and since Heather seems to be completely checked out, Emma guesses she’s going to have to deal with him. After this morning, he won’t be the worst person she has to deal with all day, and since she’s working at The Oaks tonight, she imagines being treated like shit then will outshine all of this.

Why the hell did she decide to pick up so many shifts at The Oaks? It’s a stuffy country club where tips reflecting the price of the meal aren’t even guaranteed, but it’s extra money with a flexible schedule. She’s doing okay on the money front right now, though, and if she were sane, she’d take some time off and relax, maybe enjoy the beach or any of the hundreds of good restaurants around here.

She is obviously not sane.

-/-

“Oh my God,” Emma grumbles as she strips out of her jean shorts, kicking them to the ground before unbuttoning her shirt. “I’m so tired of people.”

“I’m people,” Ruby says. “Nice bra, by the way. The girls look great.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she does glance down at her boobs and hike them up a bit. They do look great today. “Shut up.” Emma picks up the black dress she has to wear at the country club and slips it over her shoulders. “You know I’m not tired of you.”

“That’s because you’ve barely seen me.”

“Busy. I’m busy. I work way too much. Speaking of that, why the hell aren’t you at work?”

Ruby stands from her couch and grabs her name tag from the end table. “I’m in between shifts. Granny’s in charge downstairs. I have a five-second commute to work, unlike you. Why are you changing here again?”

“Don’t want to run into any of the people at my house.” Emma smooths her dress and turns to Ruby’s mirror to reapply lipstick and put on some mascara. She’s got to wash her hair tomorrow. It’s hanging by on a thread today, if that thread is a little greasy and has a hell of a lot of dry shampoo in it. “But don’t worry, tomorrow, I will be out of your hair as they will soon be out of mine.”

“You know I’m always fine with you being in my business. Mary Margaret and David are coming here for dinner tonight. Any chance you can slip away?”

Emma finishes another coat of mascara. “Can’t. Working until past closing and then heading straight home to sleep in my house of strangers.”

Ruby laughs, carefree as always, and for a moment, the jealousy stings. Ruby has plenty of her own shit going on, but she always handles it with such ease. She’s the most carefree person Emma has ever met, and Emma can’t imagine living like that without way too much alcohol in her system.

“I told you that you could stay with me this week. Have I ever said it’s batshit crazy that they come to visit and are okay with you still staying there? Because that is batshit crazy.”

Emma shrugs and pulls back to take in her appearance. This is as good as it’s going to get. She doesn’t think she’ll be using her looks to get her any tips tonight, which is a crying shame since that’s half the reason she took this job in the first place. She knows exactly how to charm some of the older men into giving her more money by flirting a little, and she’s not ashamed that she has to give away her dignity to do it. She had to hire a dinner-shift manager at the Blue Dog because she was doing the work of two people with the pay of one. Now she’s doing the work of five people with the pay and of one and half people, so obviously she’s winning at life.

“I’m never there, and they seem like good people. I think they’re just glad I actually maintain the place and am slowly but surely getting through some of the renovations.” Emma looks at her hair again and ties it up in a ponytail with the elastic from her wrist. “Any way you can make me a grilled cheese to go?”

“Only if you agree to go to a bar with all of us sometime in the next month.”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”

God, she hopes Ruby doesn’t remember this conversation. The last thing she wants to do right now is go out with her friends and then end up sitting alone as they all make out with their partners and leave without telling Emma goodbye.

Actually, the last thing she wants to do is go to work again today, but here she goes.

-/-

Emma quietly turns the key in her front door. She saw that the kitchen light was still on from the street, and while the Fishers likely just forgot to turn it off, she doesn’t want to run the risk of seeing them tonight. It’s their last night here, so she only has to make it through one or two more awkward conversations before she has the house to herself. It’ll be just her and the creaky floors. She can collapse on the couch in her dress instead of having to walk all the way up the stairs and make it to her bedroom like a responsible adult.

In another world, Emma would like to own a house like this. It’s charming. That’s the best way to describe it. It’s two floors, three bedrooms, has bay windows and built-in bookshelves, and the cabinets in the kitchen are a light green. She likes that it’s not cookie cutter white all the way around like some of the nicer houses around here. It has character, and though there are a few things she’d change beyond the needed repairs she does for the Fishers, it’s got good bones. Plus, the location is fantastic, and the backyard is spacious. It allows Emma to spend time in the sun without being stuck on a crowded beach or near a busy dock.

But this is not another world, and Emma could never afford a house this close to the coastline. She’s got no idea why she still lives here. Well, that’s not true, she knows exactly why she still lives here, and it’d be possible for her to pick up and move inland toward Boston. She just…she can’t. She’s been here for ten years after leaving her last foster home in Brockton, and it’s been a comfortable reprieve. She’s got her friends and her job(s), and even though she’s got years of hospitality experience, there’s no guarantee someone like her with a GED can get a job this well-paying and accommodating somewhere else. Plus, her housing is almost free, and she really can’t pass that up.

It all comes back to the house, which she’s dreading going into now no matter how much she wants to collapse onto her bed.

(Or the couch. She really misses the couch. It’s the best for napping.)

Emma steps inside, avoiding the places that make the floor groan, but it’s impossible to dodge them all. She tenses, then hurries across the living room toward the stairs, only turning to the opening to the kitchen at the last minute.

“Holy fuck,” Emma gasps, dropping her purse. It hits the ground in a gentle thud, her keys spilling out and clacking along the floor.

“Didn’t mean to scare you there, Swan.”

Emma’s breath hitches as she realizes who it is sitting at her kitchen table.

Killian…whatever his last name is. She’s got no clue and doesn’t care to ask. What she does want to know is why he’s sitting here alone at two in the morning like a fucking serial killer.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He takes a sip of his drink, coffee she thinks from the smell, and leans back in the chair, the front legs tipping up with him. “Getting sober so I can drive home. Had two drinks with dinner, and it appears I’ve become a bit of a lightweight.”

“Don’t drink much then? I thought all you Brits liked going to the pub.”

He laughs, smile bright against the black of his stubble despite her poor attempt at his accent. “We do, but not so much me anymore. Trying to cut back.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She leans down to pick up her bag, grabbing her keys and tossing them back in. “I also get that we have Uber here. You might want to try that the next time you have a little too much to drink. You look like a murderer sitting in my kitchen like this.”

“It was two glasses of rum, nothing excessive. Wishing Ariel and Eric well before they leave in the morning.” He leans forward, the chair landing on all four legs, and downs the rest of his mug. “I don’t make a habit of drinking too much.”

“I don’t care what you do in your personal time. Just don’t make a mess in my house…or your friends’ house, I guess. And sleep on the couch if you want. There are blankets in the basket.”

She doesn’t know why she’s offering him the couch. She should be making him leave. Her heart is still leaping out of her chest from him scaring her, and even though this has been her home for years, she technically can’t ask him to leave. In reality, Ariel has probably offered him the couch already.

What a long day.

She wants it to be over.

“That’s surprisingly kind of you.”

Emma’s step falters, and while she was turning away from the man, she decides to turn back and narrow her eyes. What the hell is that supposed to mean? “I guess I’m full of surprises for men who don’t know me.”

“Just who are you then, Swan?” he asks, standing from the chair and putting his mug in the sink, turning the faucet on while never losing eye contact.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would.”

A shiver runs down Emma’s spine, but she ignores it and walks up the stairs. This is a weird week, one she doesn’t want to repeat, and the last thing she needs is to spend too much time with a man who thinks he can charm his way into anything with a few smooth words and a smile. She’s been around enough men like that in her lifetime, but it doesn’t matter with him. Tomorrow, he’ll be gone with Eric and Ariel, and she’ll be back to being able to walk around her house without pants whenever she wants.

Tomorrow, this weird as hell week will be over, and she’ll be back to normal…mostly.

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight

#I hope we never see october #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Note

lovesick and a little bit drunk: this is absolutely adorable, you always write characters having crushes on each other amazingly well. you can feel that pining towards him. also, college peter is such a weakness of mine. if we ever see tom playing college peter, it is over for me. also also, reader and peter at tony’s wedding; I need this to be explored oh my god, i need to know what happened

waaaaaaait a second... i think i’ve read everything of yours now!

Aww man, i have loved every second of going through your masterlist and i’ve made a lovely friend from it too! I cannot wait for you to do the bits ive messaged you about because i know you’ll do an amazing job! 🥰🐰

jdjkdj ahhhh thank you thank you the fact that you’re telling ME that I write college Peter well when there are so many other writers who write him so much better than me 😭😭🤚🏽

also that may or may not turn into a fake dating fic

maybe

but there will be only pain and pining and no conclusion so I doubt people will read it XDD

and AHHHH you almost did lol but it’s ok I know which story you skipped, the topic is pretty sensetive 😘😘 other than that you’ve read everything 😘😘 I can’t wait to write those either! GAH WHY ISN’T 8TH JUNE COMING ANY FASTER SO I CAN WRITE THEMMMMMMM

Lovesick and a little bit drunk

#asks #review anon #🐰 anon #<3 #I love you too fren 😭#love talking to you bestie 😘😘#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x stark!reader

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joonie-beanie · 4 years

Text

Unspoken Affections

Paring: Bean (MC) x Lucifer

Word count: 2,059

This is a short story for my MC Bean, and Lucifer.

To get a brief understanding of Bean and Luci’s relationship, I suggest clicking the link above and reading Lucifer’s section on the post. This story is basically when Lucifer finally draws out Bean’s feeling for him.

👉👈 I hope some people can relate to Bean, and enjoy the angst/fluff/comfort.

The moment Bean lays eyes on Lucifer, her heart skips a beat.

She’s inexplicably enthralled with him--his handsome smiles, his kind gestures, his everything. She wants to learn him, wants to be close to him in a way that his brothers can’t. She wants his affections--wholly, selfishly--all to herself.

But he feels so beyond her. His very existence is something crafted by god. Among the brothers, he’s the most powerful, and beyond that, he’s Diavolo’s right hand.

And Bean is just a human. A human who yearns for something far out of her reach.

She draws a line in the sand from day one--attempts to cut herself off from her feelings for the Avatar of Pride.

Don’t let Lucifer know you’re in love with him.

It’s not an easy thing to do, but she manages.

She befriends the seven brothers, growing her relationships with them every day. And it feels natural, with all of them--to eat, drink, and be merry. To stay up late and do homework together, or go out on a grocery run in their company. Every relationship feels equal, and fair...until skinship starts being shared.

A bear hug from Beelzebub is met with laughter, and reciprocation. Bean throws her arms around Mammon or Leviathan without second thought. And if Asmo pecks her cheek, or Satan holds her waist, or Belphie hugs her from behind, she’s all smiles.

But the moment Lucifer appears at her side, fingers curling around her shoulder and giving her the softest of squeezes, she’s stiff as a board. Her face goes carefully blank for a split second, and it takes her a moment to regain herself--smiling up at him, and acting like nothing is wrong. That she hadn’t just reacted to his touch so vastly different than his brothers.

It throws him through a loop.

Had he done something to offend her? He doesn’t bother questioning Bean, in the moment. He lets it go, and decides that he’s likely overthinking. Perhaps his show of affection had been unexpected.

So, he tries to exhibit his affections more often. A headpat here, an arm around her waist there. Yet, all shows are met with fake smiles, and carefully picked reactions.

Lucifer, despite himself, starts to get frustrated.

Bean acts as if nothing is wrong following those moments. She continues her relationship with him as normal--checking on him when he works too hard, keeping him company in his study on late nights, bringing him meals if he can’t find the time to pull away from his work.

She exhibits a kindness to him that feels genuine, and intimate. He has caught her on more than one occasion simply watching him--a fondness reflected in her eyes that has his heart beating a bit faster.

When she’s not being careful, he can read her affections for him clear on her face. And yet, when he tries to draw out those affections, his attempts end up futile. She shys away--locks her feelings behind a poorly constructed veil.

And for what it’s worth, Lucifer strives to be understanding. He waits, and gives her space, hoping that one day she will open up to him. Yet, weeks pass, and he’s left watching from the sidelines as Bean showers her brothers in her physical affections, but not him.

He still receives her love--through late night conversations, and freshly brewed cups of tea--but he craves what his brothers have. Doesn’t understand why he’s the outlier among his siblings. He has been nothing but kind to Bean--has opened himself up to her more than he has to anyone in the last millennia. And it’s clear that she loves him--that she cares for him just as equally as any of his brothers.

So why won’t she allow him to get close?

Finally, he decides to breach the topic.

“Why do you reject my shows of affection?”

Bean is sitting on the couch in his study, DDD in her hand, when he speaks those fateful words. Her fingers still, eyes widening ever so slightly as she turns her head up to stare at him. She hadn’t even heard him stand from his chair, or make his way to her side. But here he is, towering over her--leaving her nowhere to run.

Lucifer can see her scrambling for a lie to come up with. Even if she tries to cover-up how flustered the question has made her, he can see it in the way her body reacts. He has been around her too long now--he notices the little things about her, the tiny habits her body has when she’s startled, or mad, or happy.

“I--”

“I am no fool, June,” he speaks plainly, leaning down to her eye level. Her gaze darts away, flustered by the close proximity, and the way her real name sounds when spoken by the Avatar of Pride. Lucifer reaches a gloved hand forward to grasp her chin. He continues once he has guided her gaze back to him--her pink tongue poking out to wet her dry lips.

“I see the way you interact with my brothers, and the way you interact with me, and there is a difference. You’ve allowed the others the right to adore you--to touch you, however they wish--,” his voice softens, crimson eyes trailing down her neck. He spots the faint marks that linger on her skin, barely visible to anyone who isn’t searching for them. “--but it seems that such a right has not been given to me,” his heavy gaze jumps back to hers, and he sees the blush that has spread on her cheeks--can practically hear the way her heart has sped up within her chest.

“Why?”

He releases her, gives her space to think, but doesn’t move far. Lucifer won’t allow her to skirt around him this time. He wants to hear the truth.

“Lucifer…”

Bean has been dreading this moment--trying so desperately to avoid it for as long as possible. She doesn’t want to express her adoration. The amount of love inside of her that solely belongs to Lucifer is overwhelming, and she feels that if she admits it, the dam she has so helplessly crafted will break, and everything--every feeling--will come flowing out at once.

And what will Lucifer say, then, when she admits that she loves him? That she has longed for him since day one, and has wanted nothing more than to be his? Surely, someone like her will be rejected. Lucifer is an ex-angel, a powerful demon, an otherworldly being who she cannot live up to, no matter how hard she tries.

She cannot match him. And he deserves better.

And yet, Lucifer has no plans of letting her escape the current conversation. He won’t let her leave until her feelings for him have been aired.

Bean wants to run away--far, and fast.

Without warning, she presses to her feet, and faces Lucifer. His eyes widen in surprise, taking in the brilliant blush that has spread across her face. She looks embarrassed, and angry, and sad all at once.

“I love you,” she says. “So much. Too much.”

Lucifer falls silent at her words, confused, and elated. He only snaps back into reality when Bean slides past him, making a break for the door.

He’s quick to grab her wrist--twirling her around and wrapping his strong arm around her waist, so their fronts are pressed together. She raises her hands to push against his chest, but her attempts to disconnect herself are fruitless.

“If you love me then why do you act like this?” Lucifer gives her a squeeze, emphasizing his words.

Bean goes still in his grasp. Her forehead knocks against his shoulder, defeated, and he can feel her shakily exhale.

“Because you’re too good for me.”

Her voice warbles as she speaks the words, and Lucifer can sense the sadness in her soul. The heartbreak that she’s placed upon herself, before ever giving him a chance to reciprocate her feelings.

Her fingers shake where they rest against his shirt, emotions overwhelming her, just as she had feared. And she tries to calm herself down--tries so very desperately to shove her feelings back into their cage--but Lucifer thwarts her attempt.

His gloved fingers brush over her flushed skin, moving her hair from her face. He cups her cheek, beckoning her to look at him, and the soft look of affection shining in his eyes breaks her.

Tears well in her eyes, fingers fisting in his shirt.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

She sobs the words, breaking down in his arms, unable to control herself. This is not what she expected. This is not the rejection she had mentally prepared herself for time and time again.

The love she sees in his crimson gaze scares her as equally as it thrills her. Her deepest fears and insecurities rise to the surface, reminding her of her imperfections--of all the reasons she had ever felt inferior to the Avatar of Pride. She wants to tell him that he’s making a mistake--looking at her with such adoration. He could have someone better--someone shorter, or taller--someone skinnier than her, with a prettier face, and better qualities.

There is no reason for him to love her, and yet, he does. Wholly, and truly.

It shows plain on his face, as he stands there, holding Bean in his arms. He wipes her tears away without second thought--cradles her head and presses his lips into her hair as she hangs onto him--soaking her worries into his shirt with each hot tear that falls.

“Silly girl,” he whispers the words against her. She chokes on a laugh, sniffling. She’s finally beginning to come down from the barrage of emotions that have afflicted her.

“I’m not silly,” Bean mumbles, leaning away from him as she lifts her palms to rub at her eyes. “I was really worried, you know? You’re just...you’re you, and you’re perfect, and handsome, and amazing--there’s no reason for you to love someone like me--”

“And who is someone like you?” he questions softly, his palms lifting to cradle her cheeks. His thumbs stroke lovingly over her flushed skin, clearing away whatever tears remain. “Someone intelligent, and kind-hearted? Someone who works-hard, and is mindful of others?”

Bean pouts at his words, but leans into his touch--craving the feeling, and the comfort that comes along with it. Lucifer breathes a laugh, leaning down to meet her. He tilts her chin up, connecting their lips softly, and Bean quietly moans--the sound full of longing, and satisfaction.

Her hands lift to wrap around his neck, and she presses herself into him--deepening the kiss without second thought. She has longed for this moment, has dreamed about it too many times to count.

“I love you as well,” he whispers the words into the kiss, staring at her with half lidded eyes. Pride wells within him, his sense of self returning as he finally receives the abundance of love she has kept hidden for so long. The declaration of her affections for him sates Lucifer in a way he can’t begin to describe.

He feels relieved above all else, but a hunger stirs inside him.

He has waited too long for this moment--missed out on countless days and hours he could have spent loving her, had he only confronted her about her feelings sooner.

He is jealous of his brothers, and the amount of time they’ve already had to love her--to have her in ways that he’s been unable.

Lucifer moves his arm to wrap around her waist, his other hand petting through her hair and cradling the back of her head. He kisses her deeper--open mouthed, hot, and wet--evoking tiny gasps, and wanton groans.

And Bean melts into him, done fighting. She allows herself to drown in his affections, her hands moving to grab the fur of his coat as she holds onto him for dear life.

By the time Lucifer pulls back, she’s blushing prettily, gasping for air. He smiles, fingertips soothingly rubbing through her hair.

“Tell me again,” he says, pressing a ghost of a kiss to her lips. “Who do you love?”

She opens her mouth, no hesitation present, and Lucifer feels his heart sing. All those months hiding from him, and it’s only taken 10 minutes to tear down all of her walls.

“You, Lucifer. I love you.”

He has a lot of lost time to make up for.

#obey me #om!#lucifer #obey me mc #Bean #lucifer x mc #i really did tear up writing this #if it doesn't make at least one of u cry then I have failed #fic

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ikevamp-annalyne · 4 years

Text

Annalyne Sonata [IkeVamp OC]

Hey guys! I am so verry happy to finally being able to officially introduce my IkeVamp OC, Annalyne! ٩(●ᴗ●)۶

This is a very long post, but I hope you won’t be discouraged and will enjoy learning a bit more about her, and the story I imagined for her (^.^)ゞ

I also commissioned the MOST AMAZING ARTIST EVER @lemonsqueazie for drawing my baby OC! ღවꇳවღ She is my favourite artist, and also an amazing human being that I love very much. She is so attentive to what you tell her, always doing everything to meet your ideas and make the best art for you! I highly recommend to check out her blog @lemonsqueazie alongside her Instagram and her DeviantArt post about her commissions! You can also find all the infos here.

NOW, ON WITH THE OC! (๑ゝڡ◕๑)

Name: Annalyne

Last name: Sonata

Nicknames: Anna, Nana, Lyn

DOB: June, 19, 1995 (25 years old)

Origin: French

Languages: French, English, Spanish, Italian, German, Japanese, Korean

Height: 160cm (5.25ft)

Sexuality: pan

Job: freelance fashion designer, blogger, gamer

Passions: fashion, drawing, eating, baking, cooking, videogames, reading, music

Phobias: larvas and maggots, bugs (except ladybugs)

Lover: Leonardo Da Vinci

"Heh? What is this? Kinda like a storage room?"

Annalyne is a very chill woman, taking things at her own pace and working hard towards her goals and dreams. When she doesn't work, she becomes a lazy slug chilling with a good book or videogames -part of why she is also a gamer-.

Her most prominent traits are definitely: her kindness, her humour -made of bad puns and references-, her caring side, her clumsiness and her supportive behaviour. Number one fan of her family and friends.

She will always go out of her way to make her loved ones feel loved, supported or just important. She can also easily throw hands if needed. No one messes with her or her close ones without getting punished.

She has a hard time trusting people. It looks like she is close to everyone, but she hardly confides in people. It takes a hecking long time to build a relationship of trust with her -due to some childhood traumas-

She is strong-willed and -way too- a tad stubborn. But she compensates by being very sweet and cute. She can be very anxious but eating calms her, explaining her chubbiness. Also, count on her for helping everyone.

She is very good at cooking and baking, and loves making things herself. She loves dogs, but honestly, she loves almost every animal ever. She has a talent with them, understanding them beyond reason: animals love her.

"Call me the PUNisher."

She is easily triggered by disrespect, racism, homophobia, bullying and abuse. She can kick your ass off if needed, being very rude and violent when angry -she already broke the arm of a racist, and slapped Shakespeare...-

Comte is the one engaging conversation with her, asking her if she likes this painting. She is hyper excited talking about it and Comte cannot help but giggle, finding a Da Vinci's fangirl in modern days being pretty rare.

How she met Comte:

Annalyne lives near Paris and absolutely loves museums. Therefore she spends a hella lot of time in the Louvre, especially contemplating Da Vinci's works. She meets Comte in front of Da Vinci's painting Saint-Jean-Baptiste.

They spend some time debating and chatting over Leonardo Da Vinci's life, works of art and other controversies. He smiles a lot throughout the whole chat, since he wonders how his old friend would react.

How she ends up in Comte's mansion:

Comte bids her goodbye after they have finally seen Mona Lisa from up close. She thanks him for the delightful conversation, happy she has met someone as knowledgeable as him on her favourite historical figure.

She is taken aback, quite surprised, and thinks the mansion is a storage room. Maybe the man is actually an employee? She is curious though so she walks through the hall and stares at everything in awe.

When he leaves, waving his hand, his pocket watch falls and Annalyne picks it up. She chases after Comte all over the museum and sees him going through a door. She opens it and ends up in the mansion's hall.

Who she meets:

While discovering the hall, she stumbles upon Leonardo who's asleep. She doesn't want to wake him up but God, she stares for a good minute at the sleeping man. "I have never seen such a gorgeous man..."

She walks past him and continues looking for Comte. But then, Napoleon appears and asks her who she is, and what she does here. She tells him she wants to find the gorgeous blonde man to give him his watch.

He offers to give to him in lieu of her. But she is wary of him, a stranger. And Comte appears, the noise having caught up his attention. He recognises Annalyne and is surprised she is there. She gives him the watch.

The first dinner:

Comte gladly accepts the watch and asks her if she wants to dine with him and the residents of this mansion. Mansion? She stares at him, dumbfounded, and frowns. "Mansion? Isn't that a storage room or something?"

Comte giggles and promises to explain it all over dinner. Her trust for Comte and her love for food makes her accepting the offer. How surprised she is upon seeing all these people gather around a huge table!

She sits down and gets served by Sebastian, under all the surprised looks. Comte then proceeds on explaining it all to her: how all the residents in there are famous historical figures, and how she is the past.

How she reacts:

She is surprised, but she believes in timelapse, magic, etc. So she just stares in surprise and shock but is soon overexcited to meet all these people who changed history and inspired her throughout her whole life.

She will ask a bunch of questions to each of them, questions she has always been curious about, like the rumours and alleged controversies. Even when she hears about not being able to go back in her time, she is strangely chill about it.

"Well, there's no helping it! I will come up with a lie when I go back there!" But she will write letters and leave them -along jewels of hers- in places she thinks her friends or family could find them in the future.

Meeting her soulmate:

Sebastian shows her her room and then tells her to explore the mansion if she wants to. What she does! She then remembers the man sleeping in the hall? He must be a historical figure as well, but who can he be...?

She wants to know so she goes to find him and stumbles upon him, nearly falling on top of him. He seems awake since he is sitting on the floor. He had heard her footsteps so he smiles at her. "Well, who do we got there, Cara Mia?"

She smiles at the Italian nickname and tells him everything about her being here. He is surprised she is so chill about it but he smiles and introduces himself. "Well Cara Mia, nice to meet you. I'm Leonardo Da Vinci."

Upon hearing the name, her eyes widen and her breath catches in her throat. She stares, her heart beating faster every passing second. His smile is intoxicating and she cannot help but blush and stutter.

"W-well, nice to meet you, Leonar- huh Sir Leonardo? How, how should I call you?" He laughs."Leonardo is enough, Cara Mia." He smiles and pats her head before standing up. "Watch yourself, Cara Mia."

Her reaction upon the vampiric reveal:

After having talked with Comte and decided to stay in his mansion, she actually wonders how he could resurrect them. She decides to ask Sebastian, her new colleague, and he just shows her the Rouge and Blanc bottles.

"What's that?" She asks, pretty curious."Take a look and you will understand." She first goes for the Rouge and recognises the metallic smell of blood. She stares at Sebastian. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"They are all vampires. Except I, who is human." She widens her eyes, sueprised, and then goes "Aaaaah, that's how he did! Makes sense!" She smiles. "Is Comte the one who transformed them all or no?" "He did, yes."

"So, is he like, a pureblood vampire? A superior vampire who can turn humans into vampires?" "How do you know about this?" "Oh please, Sebastian. Cinema, animes, mangas and books are full of vampires."

Sebastian stares at her, bewildered. "And you are not afraid? They could easily feed off of you, even kill you." "Oh please Sebastian, they're more like puppies than wolves! If they were capable of this, you wouldn't be here!"

"Plus," she says while flashing a big dumb grin. "If they wanted to eat me, they would have already bitten me and emptied me of all my blood. They are not dangerous." Sebastian is shocked at how chill she is.

Her relationships with the residents:

She gets close to every resident ofthe mansion pretty fast, especially since she is not pushy, funny, kind, calm and knowledgeable on a lot of matters. They all grow a soft spot for her, even shyer and harsher residents.

Napoleon: they bond over cooking and baking. Also, since she is French, she can tell him about the impact he had on her country.

Mozart: music is common ground for them. She knows a lot about him and will sing for him, being allowed in the music room.

Arthur: writing sessions together, in his room or hers. They tease each other a lot and she is quick to react to his flirting.

Vincent: they are very close, bonding over drawing and painting. They talk a lot about art and have art sessions.

Theodorus: she doesn't let him win with his harsh replies and he likes that. She is strong and adores Vincent: he likes her a lot.

Isaac: she isn't pushy and gives him room so he likes talking with or teaching her a few things. They often meet in his room.

Jean: he likes how pure she is but she doesn't let him avoid her. She will do anything to befriend him and he gives in.

Dazai: sharing writing ideas brings them closer. They also laugh a lot because they are both airheads amd chaotic walking memes.

William: she likes his work but hates him. She will always avoid him, or shoot sharp daggers glares at him.

Comte: the father figure. She loves going to him to talk or when she needs some calm, and having tea together.

Sebastian: always laughing and teasing each other. She will flick his forehead when he assumes things for her.

Her relationship with her soulmate:

She is a Da Vinci's fangirl so of course, she is a mess around him. At first, she just blushes a lot, stutters a bit around him and she fangirls when he is not around. "Omg I can't believe I witnessed him sketching!!!"

They bond very easily since they both love arts. And Leonardo is very curious about her fashion style, her job, and basically how the world works in modern days -she spent an entire night talking about phones-

One day, he finds her sighing in her room: "what's the problem?". "Ah, nothing, I'm just, not comfortable in Comte's dresses. I'm more into trousers or skirts from my time." He is curious so she tells him about modern day fashion.

"Ah, so women wear pants and shirts. Whatever they want." She nods excitiedly."Yeah, and I hope one day men will be able to do so as well! Wear skirts and dresses and heels. But toxic masculinity is still pretty deep..."

"Wait for me, Cara Mia" and he dashes off the room, to come back later with a stack of shirts and trousers. "Here, take these. They're mine but for now, it will do. Tomorrow, we're going shopping for you."

And they do go shopping the next day, buying loads of men clothes alongside jewels and shoes. Also, they buy fabrics, needles and everything for Annalyne to sew her own clothes. He loves seeing her so happy.

She spends the next days adjusting Leonardo's clothes and the ones they bought to her chubby curves. And Leonardo surprises her by wearing a dress. They go have dinner like this: her in men's clothes, him in women's clothes.

Legend says every resident nearly choked themselves of either shock or laughter. And Leonardo and Annalyne really enjoyed it a lot and decided to do this at least once a week -Leo enjoyed the dress, actually-

The purebloodness revelation:

She catches very early on that he is a pureblood, without him even telling her. She is extra sensitive so she kinda feels auras and saw how Comte and Leonardo's eyes are similar. His genius made even more sense.

"Leonardo. Are you like Comte, a pureblood vampire?" She asked him while they were shopping for fabrics. Leonardo nearly fell out of surprise. "What are you talking about, Cara Mia?" "Well, you know..."

"Same eyes as Comte, genius who can do anything, super strong and intimidating aura. Open-minded as if you've already seen everything, and laziness that can be explained by already having done everything possible..."

He stares at her and then laughs, patting and ruffling her hair. "You're awfully clever and intuitive, Cara Mia. Yes, I am a pureblood. Does it change anything between us? "HELL NO!" she shouts. "But I've got questions!!!"

She drowns him under questions on everything he's done, seen, lived. They spend almost all of their time together, teaching each other about their lives and their knowledge. Residents are jealous of the Leonardo monopoly.

How it "ends" between them:

She is a strong woman and will go back to her time. But she promises Leonardo she will find him, right after returning to her time. He asks her what day it was, when she entered the mansion. "March, 15th, 2020."

When she leaves, while everyone is crying, Leonardo calculates. "Okay, gone for a month in her time, so she'll be in the Louvre in April, 15th, 2020. Ah. My birthday." He smiles. Almost 200 years, but it will be so worth it.

When she passes through the door, she is back in her time. Asking a guide what day it is. "April, 15th, 2020". The day they agreed upon, and Leonardo's birthday. She smiles and then proceeds to rush out of the Louvre to look for him.

But then she passes in front of Saint-Jean-Baptiste. Her favourite painting. A tall and gorgeous man is standing there, in a blue shirt and blue jeans. She feels it. She goes to the man, pats him on the shoulder, and asks: "Leonardo...?"

The man turns around, a huge grin on his face, bright golden eyes shining with love: "Was about time, Cara Mia..." she cries and throws herself at his neck; he spins her, crying as well, burrying his face in her neck.

"I missed you so much. Never do this again. 200 years was worth it but it was too long." She is a mess while crying. "I, I pwomiss Leo, I will neba leaf you again-" he laughs at her messy face. "Look at you, silly girl." He kisses her.

"I want you to see how much I love you in my eyes. They speak on my behalf."

Trivia facts:

She has a tiny water spray bottle she labelled as "Holy Water". Whenever a resident smiles or laughs, she opens it and "collects" their happiness. Thus, when one is talking shit about himself, she sprays the water on them.

"There, you have been blessed with Holy Water. Now love yourself or I agressively hug you." -the mistake on the label,on "thoughts" is intended, as it is is a mix between thots and thoughts, bitch thoughts she's gonna spray away.

She hates Shakespeare, Faust and Vlad. Whenever they pass by the mansion, she grabs the garden hose she labelled "Garden Hoes" and splashes water on them. "Oh no, you walking sin, stay away from my babies!"

She eats A LOT and puts shame on Theo when it comes to eating sweet things. They have pancake-eating competitions -and guess what, she wins-. She will be snacking 24/7 when nervous, anxious, sad and basically under negative emotions.

She listens to every type of music. She really enjoys any kind of rock music, and is also very knowledgeable on classical music. She likes to dance on Kpop and sing on Disney songs: her favourites are definitely I’ll Make A Man Out Of You and Why Should I Worry -in French-

She used to practice martial arts so she can beat the crap out of anyone being a little sh*t with her or her loved ones. She also has a very scary aura when furious, leading to most people just running away from her wrath.

She loves gossiping with Arthur. Whenever she knows about some rumours, or when she needs to talk about something that upset her, she goes to his room with coffee or tea. They both irradiate chaotic gossiping energy when together.

She is the mom friend, and becomes the mom of the mansion. She already told Jean to “get his bottoms in the living room to eat with all of them”, else she was going to kick his butt so hard he would be unable to sit or practice fencing.

All the animals LOVE her. Chérie is missing? She is cuddling with her in the patio. Lumiere is not under the bed? He is sleeping on her laps while she reads. King is nowhere to be found? She is playing with him in the garden. Snow White vibe.

She loves flowers and will put some all over the mansion. She puts one every day in front of every resident’s door, with a message written on a tiny piece of paper, something like: “You are a sweetheart and you deserve the best, keep going, dearie!”

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp #ikevamp oc

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latristereina · 4 years

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There are fifteen personal letters exchanged between Isabel and Fernando in the years 1474-1502, that survived to our times, the originals are stored at the Archivo General de Simancas. Their original language is Castilian. Thirteen of them were written by Fernando and two by Isabel. They were gathered in the work titled Cartas autógrafas de los Reyes Católicos de España don Fernando y doña Isabel que se conservan en el Archivo de Simancas, 1474-1502, transcribed and analyzed by Amalia Prieto Cantero, published in Isabel la Católica en la opinión de españoles y extranjeros: siglos XV al XX. Apéndices. Tomo 3 by Vicente Rodríguez Valencia.

I translated only eight of them, six from Fernando to Isabel and two from Isabel to Fernando. I don’t plan on translating more, considering it’s not an easy task in itself, especially for a non-native speaker like me, who translates from her third to her second language respectively, and as much as modern language isn’t a problem, the language and grammar they used in the XV and XVI centuries is a whole new ballgame, some constructions and words are either hard or impossible to comprehend even for some native speakers.

Fernando to Isabel:

My Lady

After having the other note written, I received a letter from the King, my Lord [John II of Aragon], which I send to Your Ladyship. By which you will see how the matters in Enna are, and how he orders me to come with all the people of this kingdom to the aid of this city. Seeing this I cannot express my sorrow; I think that if I were in hell, I would suffer much less than I do now, and so many times I wish death upon myself that I think I may fulfill my thoughts, I do not know why our Lord gave me so much good and so little time to enjoy it, since, for three years, I have not been with Your Ladyship at times even seven months in a row. Now I have demonstrated and I say that I have to go to make them move quicker in order to do the service, which cannot be faster than before Christmas, and if during this time Your Ladyship could make the King [Henry IV of Castile] call me to be sworn in [he is referring to the swearing-in as the Princess heiress of Castile and her consort], I would quickly come, but otherwise, I do not think I would have an excuse for the King, my Lord [John II of Aragon]. However, I will do everything that is in my power to be able to come, but this bad honor [charge of Lieutenant in Aragon which did not let him join his wife] makes me feel so bad that what I am saying does not make sense. I beg Your Ladyship for the Archbishop [of Toledo] and Cardinal [Mendoza] to help in this matter, I do not ask Your Ladyship because you have enough yourself, and do not Your Ladyship think that I need something more than your order [to come to Castile], under different circumstances, I would come, but for now, other reasons are required for me to leave. I beg Your Ladyship to forgive me because being angry and disturbed, I do not know what I am saying, even with all that, I will delay my departure until I get a response from Your Ladyship, which I beg you to be soon, and it is how this slave of Your Grace concludes, The Prince-King [Prince of Aragon and king of Sicily].

Zaragoza, [1 December 1474]

My Lady

At last, now it is clear which of us two loves best, judging by what others write to me about Your Ladyship, you can be happy [while] I cannot sleep… There are so many messengers over there that come without letters [from you], not for lack of paper and not for not knowing how to write, but for insufficient love and haughtiness, for you are in Toledo and I in small villages, but someday we shall return to our first love. If you do not want to make me kill myself, you should write and tell me how you are… There is nothing more to be said about the matters from here, except what Silva will tell you and what Fernando del Pulgar has already said. I beg Your Ladyship to believe Silva and to write to me and not to forget about the Princess, who, for God’s sake, is not to be forgotten, as well as about her father, who kisses the hands of Your Ladyship and is your servant.

The King

Tomorrow, on Wednesday, I am going to Medina.

Tordesillas, [16 May 1475]

My Lady

It took me one day to pass from Valladolid to Cabia, and I decided to come to this city only because I knew it would be of no harm to rest here; I informed people of the city (city of Burgos) about the arrival, upon which the Bishop of Burgos escaped along with others, who are not much at our service. These of the city sent emissaries to me, begging me not to enter (the city) until after the meal, and I did so. Given the little time they had, the reception they gave me was marvelous and with so many people, and with such great love, that it is not an earthly thing, the love they have for us, but a Godly one. I must tell Your Ladyship that I never saw a thing that I would like more than this city nor more honorable. I saw las Huelgas and la Iglesia Mayor which in their way are miraculous. Tomorrow I will go to kiss the hands of King Don Juan for Your Ladyship and for myself*, and for the love of friar Alonso, I will go to see the Monastery of San Pablo. In two days I will depart and soon I will arrive at Valladolid. […] for what is in the letters that I got, I kiss the hands of Your Ladyship. Because I am tired, I do not respond except to what Your Ladyship tells me about how it was necessary for us to see each other, if it had not been for this city, I would have already gone, but the hurry was such that the Cardinal and the Constable put on me, that I could not do so. It seems to me that it is very necessary and that Your Ladyship ought to come because in getting together we help each other more than anything in life, and now is the time that all our power should be jointly exerted. Tired, I finish, kissing the hands of Your Ladyship.

Your servant: The King

Burgos, [12 June 1475]

*he meant la Cartuja de Miraflores where Isabella’s father was buried

My Lady

I have put off writing until the night, in order to see the people that came; infantry has come and the Constable with very good and many people; others have come except for the Admiral and the Marquis of Astroga. The people of the Count of Lemos, the Viscount of Palacios, the Count of Castro have not come, and now the Marquis of Santillana wrote to me that he and the Duke of Alburquerque would join me on Sunday, and they begged me not to move until then; given all of this, it seems to me that for us to go with more ease, in order to not detain anything until arrival in Toro, we should not depart tomorrow; either Your Ladyship from there or I from here, considering the distress you felt about the people [distress there would not be enough people at their service], Alonso de Quintanilla is already in Mojados; it is what the situation looks like over here, but if Your Ladyship orders otherwise, I shall do it with few or with many. God knows how it weighs on me that I will not see Your Ladyship tomorrow, for I swear by your life and mine that never have I so loved you. And I finish with more desire to serve Your Ladyship more than ever.

Real of Tordesillas, Monastery of Saint Thomas, [14 July 1475]

In regards to what Your Ladyship wrote to me about the two fractions that are being formed, I knew about them before, Your Ladyship will take care of it better than I being here.

Without date or direction.

Amalia Prieto Cantero’s commentary: This note touches upon some negotiation that was being conducted by the Queen or tendencies that she noted at the Court, in regards to which, the King was in favor of Doña Isabel resolving it on her own because she could do it better than him. The sense is obscure and imprecise. Perhaps by the two fractions he meant tendencies of the nobles.

Isabel to Fernando

My Lord

I kiss the hands of Your Lordship a hundred thousand times for such care that you have to know about me, and I have already written to you that I am well and I had that fever no more nor I have felt any bad thing afterward, and even though Your Lordship had already known this by my letter, procure for your life, and since in this case there should not be any hesitation at all, I ask you to answer me after you receive this courier; I beg you to let me know what you determine, and on what day the siege is to take place, where you would like it to be. May our Lord help you to determine and act, and aid Your Lordship in everything and guard you more than me, and I finish by kissing [your] hands, and all our children kiss them, and they are well. At Córdoba, on 18 May [1486]

My Lord

May our Lord continue with the victory He has granted to Your Lordship in the conquest of these suburbs until He gives you the city and the entire kingdom. This has been a marvelous thing and the most honorable in the world; now it seems well how the Moors are doing in Loja who die while defending it [Loja] and our people do it [die] as well. The dead weigh on me heavily but they could not have gone better employed nor could have died better people in their professions than Pedro Valenciano and Velasquillo. I cannot forget Velasquillo and how he was afraid to die such honorable death, it is enough the madness was good for he knew how to live and how to die. All that Your Lordship has ordered has been done and people were summoned, even more than it was said in the memorial, and because I thought the term given for them to depart was too late, although they say that it cannot be less, I ordered people of this city and these of Master of Calatrava to depart [from here] tomorrow; we were doubting whether they should take sacks with supplies or not, because to take them more time was needed, and still it was agreed that they would take them for we do not know if el Real is that well provided; and from now on I will do everything, I want to know what should be done and on what day for we do not want to err in anything. Regarding Alhama, the mayor commander had already talked about it with the Master, and what is done, Your Lordship will see in this memorial. I marveled a lot at the concert of the Moorish Kings which is so disadvantageous to them. In order to leave the Kingdom, it would be better to concert with us and I hope that God’s mercy lets this happen, for him to leave the Kingdom it would be good to have a treaty with him, if Your Lordship were to grant him [Boabdil] Baza and Guadix and their lands in act of perpetual truce, so that they could be his, although Your Lordship won all the Kingdom, maybe the necessity in which he is, would make him agree and hand it over. Pardon, Your Lordship, for I speak of matters that I do not know, it might cause damage, they might become arrogant, thinking there was some necessity for it to happen, for they are fickle, they rise and fall quickly. May God tear them down, and the desire for it all to be done without risk or work of Your Lordship and all your army makes me rave. For now there is nothing to be said about matters from here, except that we all are well, and I close by kissing the hands of Your Lordship, May our Lord guard you, and give you victory as I wish. At Córdoba, on 30 May [1486].

Amalia Prieto Cantero's commentary: At the end of January 1487 the Monarchs left Salamanca for Córdoba, in order to finalize the campaign of Málaga and locations in its proximity, which had been planned since the previous year. At the beginning of March their Highnesses had already reached the city of Córdoba. The men at arms, who had been summoned, gathered at las Yeguas River. The King’s departure from Córdoba, to lead the said men, took place on 7 April - on Saturday - on the eve of Palm Sunday, in direction of la Rambla. According to the chroniclers, Fernando del Pulgar and Mosén Diego de Valera, the night before the King’s departure, at 2 a.m, there was an earthquake in the city, particularly noticeable on the terrain of the Royal Palaces. And even though some people saw in this occurrence a bad omen, the King did not alter his plans. Although las Yeguas River was the destination of the King’s trip, it had its first phase at la Rambla, where the King spent the night with his army, and from where he wrote his wife a letter that is being analyzed, dated on Palm Sunday. In the text of the missive we can discover an extraordinary emotional state in which the King was, although dominated with great effort, to uplift his spirits. It could be a consequence of the impression the earthquake caused in him, coupled with the fact it took place shortly after he left his wife and children in Córdoba. In the letter Don Fernando tried to console his wife with the hope of quick reunion at some place, where they would be together with much joy, and expressed the anguish that he had gone through that night, being alone, already separated from his family, the anguish he had overcome with great strength of will…Such expressions, like many others in the analyzed letters, display the affection of the Monarch for his wife and confirm the judgment of the historian Vicens Vives about Don Fernando, endowed with great ability to love or hate, reserve and dissimulation, among other qualities.

My Lady

I beg you to let me know how you are, and be very merry, because I hope that with our Lord’s help, I will soon send for you, to beg you to come to me, so we can be together with much joy. It pained me, I could not sleep this night of solitude, but I do not dare to think of sad things. The last night don Alonso de Aguilar came over here, for I had summoned him, to go to the sierras of Loja and Antequera, in order to provide them with more guards; he told me that yesterday an alhaqueque* from Málaga had come to his house with a few hostages. He [alhaqueque] said they had been split over my departure, and 300 Gomeres* went displeased to Vélez; I do not know why they did so, I reckon all this quarrel happened because they wanted to provide for Vélez, apparently thinking it was not done well. Our Lord will save their thoughts. I beg Your Ladyship to let me know how my children are and I kiss your hands. May our Lord protect you more than anyone else.

At la Rambla, Palm Sunday [8 April 1487]

*alhaqueque - a person who managed contracts and at times purchased the freedom of captives and set them free, or acted as a courier between Christian and Arabic population

*Gomeres - inhabitants of la Gomera

@ablooms, @kittyparr, @eyes-painted-with-kohl, @daario-naharis

#perioddramaedit #historyedit #women in history #men in history #isabella i of castile #ferdinand ii of aragon #isabel tve #multiple episodes #michelle jenner #rodolfo sancho

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walkinginland · 4 years

Text

To Heart and Home

Thank you so so much for reading and leaving such a kind response on the last chapter. I cannot express how much I appreciate it ❤❤❤

Let’s see what the red-haired duo is up to, shall we?

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, AO3

Chapter Five

Late June, 1754, Helwater, England

“Mr. Mackenzie, may I ask a favor of you? Mackenzie!”

Jamie startled, halfway out the kitchen door, too lost in his own thoughts for the name to draw his attention. God, how long would it take him to become accustomed - yet again - to answering to a false name? How long until he no longer felt like a Fraser?

As he listened to the cook’s request, as he said goodnight to the rest of the staff, as he gathered his coat and the compost bucket to bring to the pile, as he walked out into the quiet night, he repeated the same reminder he had used so many times throughout the years.

James Fraser. My name is James Fraser.

His name was not truly his own any longer. But he did what he could to keep it close, even if he could not use it. Perhaps it was foolish to repeat his own damn name to himself over and over, the simplest of mantras, but he would do whatever he had to in order to preserve the smallest bit of sanity and identity.

After dumping the kitchen scraps onto the compost pile, as the cook had asked him to, he started a slow walk through the still evening, back towards his room above the stables. His tasks were finished, the horses tended and settled for the night. Jamie cherished this part of his day and the privacy and peace that came with it; it was the only time that he felt safe enough to pull out his small statue of St. Anthony and his candle, to pray his rosary and for those he had lost.

The light had almost completely faded and Jamie’s mind was far away as he basked in the peace of the evening. For so long, his life had been full of chaos, of looking over his shoulder for the next threat. Any moments of peace he could grab were ones to be cherished. Any places of sanctuary – even ones as unlikely as a stable – were not to be taken for granted.

No one was typically about the stables at this hour, and he had let himself grow comfortable over the past weeks in the solitude that this place brought. His guard was down, his senses not quite as sharp as he walked down the long aisle and past the rows of stalls.

So it was with a sudden start that, as he passed one of the few empty stalls, he caught the smallest of sad sounds coming from the shadows in the back. He was even more startled when he peeked in to see wee Brianna, curled up over herself in the corner, sobbing like her little heart was about to break.

“Brianna? Bree? Are ye alright?” He slowly eased into the stall and crouched down close to her, not wanting to scare her. He had to be careful to temper his tone, to keep the rapid flush of alarm from creeping into his voice.

“Bree?”

What on earth is she doing out here? Even if she were exploring or wandering, she’s always back to the house by this time of night.

After getting no response from the small quivering shape in the corner, he sat down fully and slid next her before speaking again. “Bree? Are ye hurt? Come on then lass, tell me what’s wrong. Please?”

His soft inquiries were only met with more shuddering tears. He had never before seen her so distraught; her normal chattering, joyous self seemed lost in unexplained pain. Even in the moments when he had seen her eyes well up, it was usually the result of frustration or exhaustion, not anything more serious than a stubbed toe, an animal that would not listen, or an unwanted call for bedtime.

This grief was so much more. He was starting to truly panic – God, what could have happened to break her heart so? – when she finally gasped out a hiccupping whisper.

“Not…’m not hurt.” She mumbled into her knees where they were bent up to her chest, “It’s… It’s my Mama, Mac!”

His heart stilled. Stilled and then beat faster than it should. Much faster than it should on behalf of a woman he only knew through a child’s stories.

He had never met this woman, this Elizabeth MacTavish, but over the past months he had developed some sort of abstract… fondness for her. He didn’t know why. He had no way of explaining this connection he felt to a total stranger. For God’s sake, he had never had even the hint of communication with her, much less the opportunity to grow to know her. Perhaps this feeling was just carrying over from his attachment to her child.

Perhaps it was something more.

But for some unexplainable reason the thought that something dreadful could have happened to this woman froze him to his core.

And he didn’t think his now-racing heart was just for Brianna’s sake.

Jamie almost didn’t want to know the answer to his question, didn’t want to find out that this world had harmed yet another innocent, but he had to say something to the poor girl.

“What…” he started slowly, “Has something happened to your Mam?”

He could feel himself start to breathe again at the small shake of her head, but she still hadn’t stopped crying, and his heart hadn’t stopped pounding, though he tried to keep his voice even. “Alright then. What’s the matter?”

Bree lifted her head a bit and scrubbed at her tears with small fists, trying to get control of her breathing. “I got a letter from Mama today. She said she can’t come home yet.” Anger and fear were starting to creep alongside grief in her voice, neither helping to curb the tears that continued to course down her face. “But she promised! She said when she left she would only be gone for a bit. But it’s been two months! That is not a bit! That’s a lot longer than a bit!”

She was speaking so fast that Jamie could barely make out what she was saying between her gasps.

“I thought she was gonna be home by now but now she says she doesn’t know when she’s coming home and what if it’s not a bit at all and she doesn’t come home ever? I need my mama, Mac!” With every stumbled-over and gasped-through word her tears came faster and faster, the emotions far too big for such a small person. “My da is gone and what if Mama is gone for real now too?? Mama always says we’re together just us and I won’t be alone ever ever but now I am alone now! What if I’m all by myself for always??”

Jamie’s heart lurched along with his body as Bree launched herself into his lap with her small arms wrapped tightly around his neck - and continued to sob into his chest.

“It’s just that I’m so scared, Mac!”

Oh, lass.

It had been a long, long time since Jamie had comforted a weeping child, but the way of it came back naturally enough.

He rubbed her small shaking back, pulled her more firmly into his lap, and tucked her head under his chin. “Come now, dinna weep a leannan.” He murmured soft Gaelic nothings in her ear until her sobs slowed into sniffles and he tapped her back to get her attention. “Shh… Brianna, look at me, aye? Come on now, bring your head up, lass.”

As Brianna’s tear-shining – yet trusting - eyes came up hesitantly to meet his, Jamie felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, even as his heart broke a bit for the wee thing’s pain.

“Yer scairt you’ll be left alone, aye?” A small teary nod and sleeve rubbed across her eyes was her only response. “Well, there’s no need for that, and you ken it. You dinna need to be afraid lass, no’ of anything. I’ll be right here wi’ ye.”

Bree looked as though she wanted to be reassured, but her fear and innate stubbornness were too strong a combination to be banished that simply.

“But Mama said she would be right here and then she had to leave. What if you have to leave too?”

Jamie chuckled a bit as settled back against the stable wall, pulling Bree in and tucking her under his arm beside him. Little did she know that leaving this place – and his parole – would be the very last thing he would be doing in the foreseeable future.

“Nay, lass, dinna fash yerself. I really will be right here. And your Mam will be back in no time. Ye ken she didna want to leave ye, and she’ll be back as soon as ever she can. I’m sure she wants to be here just as much as you want her to be. Hush yerself now Bree, it’ll be alright. Rest your head. Things are always better in the morning.”

And with the light weight of a curly head resting against his shoulder, Jamie Fraser felt a small piece of his battered soul start to heal.

Perhaps it didn’t matter so much what name he was using, whether James or Alex, Fraser or Mackenzie. Perhaps it was enough for now to know that he was simply “Mac” to this sweet, small soul.

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think; feedback is always appreciated, especially for this wee bairn of a writer! ❤❤❤❤

#Outlander #Outlander Fanfiction #Outlander Fanfic #Claire Fraser #Jamie Fraser #Voyager #s3 #au #my writing #to heart and home

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

Text

I Luv You (A CS HS AU)

Reader prompted CS High School AU oneshot where Emma and Killian are friends but Emma wants more. There’s miscommunication (Emma thinks he loves someone else), but ultimately a cute and fluffy ending. Available on FF here and AO3 here.

A/N: Hey all! I have had quite a few of you ask for more high school AUs for Emma and Killian, and my muse rarely trends in that direction. But, after many many months of trying to find a story that worked, I stumbled across this song, ‘I Luv You’ by Sofia Carson and R3MIX. One of the lyrics has been stuck in my head on repeat, and I’ve thought of how wonderful it would be to incorporate into a CS drabble. As such, this story centers around Emma and Killian meeting in their senior year of high school. Killian is new to their school, having moved from the UK, but they’ve instantly clicked and prom season is coming up. Emma wants to go with Killian, but she’s aware that he might not be over someone else from his past, then, because I’m addicted to fluff, it all turns out to be a great big misunderstanding. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Everything’s going to be fine. I can handle this. I can get over him. Maybe? Someday? Oh God.

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Emma shook away the anxious thoughts that had clung to her for weeks. She didn’t want to linger in them, but she couldn’t let them go. Everywhere she went they followed, and there seemed to be no reprieve. As a result, she was a stressed-out mess, and her ability to hide her feelings was growing weaker and weaker by the minute.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, Ems,” her friend Ruby said casually from where she was perched on Emma’s kitchen countertop, eating directly out of a tub of Ben & Jerry’s chunky monkey.

Ruby’s legs dangled as she swiped the last of the ice cream from her spoon greedily. She’d downed a full carton just this afternoon, the calories and sugar rush a non-issue. Emma knew if she tried that her mother would probably have a fit, but Ruby could get away with anything in the Nolan house. Emma’s parents had adored her since Emma and Ruby’s first day of kindergarten all those years ago when Ruby announced to the class that Emma was her ‘bestest friend’ and anyone who messed with her was ‘gonna know her wrath.’ At age five Emma had no idea what that meant, but to this day her Mom and Dad adored Ruby. She was loyal and courageous, and she’d lived up to her promise, proving to be the best friend Emma could ask for.

“I’m not worried,” Emma replied, but the declaration was hollow and lacked conviction.

“You’re gonna need to work on your acting, girl,” Ruby said with a sigh and a sad headshake, as if Emma’s attempt at seeming okay was just pitiable. “But seriously, all this stressing is for nothing. Killian is totally going to ask you to prom. He’s gonna swoop in with everything but a white horse, tell you he loves you, and steal your heart.”

“Ruby,” Emma whispered, chastising her friend but without much conviction. She wanted to reprimand Ruby for her fanciful ideas, but she couldn’t form more words in the face of someone stating exactly what she dreamed of.

“And honestly, it’s about time. You’ve been dancing around each other for ages. I mean I love a good slow burn, but this is just ridiculous.”

It certainly felt like Ruby was right, but Emma knew better than to believe that. No matter how many butterflies might take flight within her every time she saw him, or how many times her thoughts drifted to the handsome boy who’d become one of her closest friends, Emma knew that the feelings in her heart were one sided. Killian was in love with someone else, a girl back where he was from who he’d known before moving here. She still had his heart, and so Emma never could. She only wished that everyone else understood, maybe then they’d stop always talking like the two of them being together was a given.

“You’re one to talk. Dee, asked you to prom literally months ago, before prom was even announced.”

“Of course she did. She’s my girlfriend. Plus, she wanted to lock me down. I’m a hot commodity, as you well know.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby’s antics. Her best friend loved to talk a big game, but since meeting her girlfriend, Dorothy, last year she’d been nothing but the picture of fidelity. She was smitten as could be and very much in love, but Ruby was determined to be considered a ‘wild child’ and Dorothy, or Dee, as everyone called her, was only happy to oblige.

“Okay well new rule, happily coupled off ‘besties’ don’t get to tell the single one not to worry.”

“Ugh, fine. But only because I love you and you used the word ‘besties’ with only limited sarcasm. I’m totally wearing you down.”

Emma bit back a smile and shook her head, but she was grateful for the out Ruby provided her. It wasn’t her friend’s natural instinct to walk back her opinion, and it showed Emma how much their friendship mattered to Ruby that she’d even try to do so.

“Also, I may or may not have agreed to be part of a conspiracy meant to distract you and then guide you to an important event that I cannot actually tell you about because I swore myself to secrecy.”

“Come again?” Emma asked, totally confused even as her pulse began to beat in faster time. Secret plot? What the heck was that? And why did she feel like it involved a certain hot, charismatic, and irresistible boy she could never stop thinking about?

“Wish I could explain, but that’s the whole thing about swearing yourself to secrecy, you kind of have to mean it. Mums the word, or whatever people say.”

“Ruby, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything except for making one teeny tiny little promise.”

“And that promise was…?”

“To make sure you stayed right here until…” she glanced at the time on the stove and smiled, “Now. All right, two minutes from now, but still. You get the drift.”

“Ruby, I don’t understand.”

“Emma,” Ruby said taking Emma’s hand and squeezing it gently, “You know I would never steer you wrong, right? I can’t get into it, but let’s just say there’s a reason I’ve been promising you that everything for prom would work out.”

Emma took Ruby’s words in and did the simple math: Ruby had been telling her not to worry about Killian asking because she knew he was planning to. He had told Ruby somehow, convincing her to help him with this surprise, and Ruby had agreed. It made Emma’s heart thump loudly in her chest over and over again, but then dread crept in. He was going to ask her to prom, but it was going to be a friend asking a friend. Somehow that was worse than not being asked at all. It would mean being so close to what she wanted, but still so painfully far away.

“Killian,” Emma whispered, her lips not daring to utter more than his name as the nerves took over.

“Yes, Killian,” Ruby said with a gleam in her eye, hopping off the table and straightening out Emma’s hair and her outfit like a personal stylist with a critical eye. “Don’t worry, you look totally kick ass, and so my work here is done. He’ll be here any minute, and I think it’s best if I get out of here before he does. Wouldn’t want to stifle any moments with my ever-present wit.”

Emma stood there in shock, watching her friend grab her bag and sashay out of the kitchen. Emma heard her retreating footsteps and barely managed to all out “Wait, Ruby!” before the front door closed. Ruby was gone, having departed the scene in a haste on par with that cartoon roadrunner she used to watch as a kid.

For a moment Emma warred with herself about what to do. She wanted desperately to wait here and to let him ask her. Maybe it would be more than a friend asking a friend. Maybe something had happened with the girl back home. Maybe he was free, free to love her, to choose her, to want her back… but then again maybe her greatest worries were exactly right. Maybe the nagging voice in the back of her mind that said something so perfect could never work out was correct. Either way she panicked, choosing self-preservation over facing what may come.

Leaving everything behind, Emma snuck out the sliding back door, breaking out in a run from the porch and heading into the thick grove of trees behind her home. There was a well-worn walking path that headed deep into the woods, and Emma knew it well, well enough to veer off of it and find her way to the one place she could imagine any kind of comfort at a time like this – the meadow.

Not far from her house there was a private glen that ran along the river, out of the way of any foot traffic that may come through the bramble of these woods. Emma had found it as a child, and for some reason no one ever seemed able to find her there. She could get lost for hours in that grove, enjoying the sun and the flowers and the sound of running water coursing by. It was close to home, but felt lightyears away and in that glen she could be anything and anyone. Her imagination was free there and her cares were far away. It was her special place, the one she never shared, the one she kept so close to her heart it felt like only hers. But then, on a whim, she’d brought Killian there, and though it was scary to do that, he’d reacted in the perfect way.

“It’s otherworldly, Emma. I can understand your love for this spot. I can think of no better place that I’ve ever been before.”

Emma held back tears as she approached this little oasis, knowing that it wouldn’t hold the answers that she wanted. Instead it would likely just remind her of Killian, and all that she wanted but that they just couldn’t have.

The closer she got, however, the more Emma realized that something was different. It was early spring, but she saw bright colors from afar. They were similar to the wildflowers that bloomed in May and June, but it was too early for them. Only when she got closer did she realize what was happening. The flowers here were real but were not wild. They were an assortment of every kind of blossom she’d ever loved and they had been placed by someone, filling the space in an attempt to recreate the most magical moments this meadow had to bring.

It dawned on her that no one would know to do this but Killian, and as she got closer Emma felt the tears brought on by his sweetness. By the time she was at the meadow’s edge, tears were streaming down her face, and she didn’t bother wiping them away as her hand came over her mouth.

There must be thousands of flowers here, and Emma had no idea how he could have possibly done this. Where would he even find so many flowers? And how could he have time? It would have taken him all day to do this, and so much longer to think of it. This was so much effort to go through for a friend, it almost made her think that she had to be wrong. He must feel the same. He must –

“I had pictured this going a little differently,” a voice said and Emma whipped around to see Killian, looking at her with a warm smile. He was genuinely glad to see her, but the bashfulness on his face was unmistakable and it made him look even more handsome. That earnest feeling mixed with seeing him dressed up, well it drove her a little wild, but she didn’t dare to move, waiting for him to approach her instead. “But I should have known you’d find your own way. You always do.”

“Why?” Emma asked, and Killian’s brow furrowed before she elaborated. “Why did you do all of this?”

“Because you deserve nothing less,” he countered, taking her hand though his blue eyes stayed locked on hers. “I did this because I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a very long time. I’ve gone back and forth about when and how. I wanted it to be right, but I couldn’t decide how. It’s just – well it’s complicated. Us being friends, it’s amazing and I’ve never had someone in my world like you, and I was afraid I’d muck it up, so I…”

He trailed off, his hand scratching behind his ear in a show of embarrassment and Emma swallowed down the hurt as best she could. She had been right. This was a prom proposal based in friendship, nothing more. He didn’t feel the same. He didn’t want her. He was just kind and good and perfect and he wanted to give her a lovely memory even if he couldn’t give her his love.

“Emma Nolan, will you -,”

Before he could get the words out Emma interrupted him, afraid that if he asked she’d break down in front of him and give herself away. This was a nightmare right now and she couldn’t bear it. “Killian… I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Before he could respond, she sprinted back towards the house, tears falling as she raced through the backwoods. Through the haze of her adrenaline, she heard him call her name, and then she felt his hand on her arm, halting her, holding her steady.

“Emma, love, I don’t understand. Have I done something? Is there…” his voice grew fraught and tense. “Is there someone else?”

“Of course there is!” she exclaimed, “But not for me. For you!”

“I don’t understand,” he replied, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Of course you don’t,” she said, a sad laugh emanating from her as she waved her hands in dismay. “I love you, Killian.”

“I love you too,” he replied immediately, and she shook her head.

“No, not as a friend. I love you. Like for real.”

“Emma, I feel the same way about you. I’ve been trying to tell you forever, but every time I tried you shut me down.”

“I had to,” she cried out. “Because you’re not over her.”

“Over who?”

“Merida.”

“Who?” he asked, sounding completely unaware of the name of the girl he loved.

“You know, the girl Liam’s always reminding you about.”

At the mention of the name Killian still looked confused and then he laughed. Wait, he’s laughing? Why is he laughing? This is serious! Before she could get angry though he pulled her to him, distracting her with his nearness as the sound of his voice washed over her.

“God I could kill my brother for this, but I haven’t got the time. Emma, ‘Merida’ is not some long-lost love I’m pining away for. She’s a seventy-six-year-old Scottish woman who used to be our neighbor.”

“Oh.” What else was there to say? Clearly she’d been an idiot.

“The only girl I’ve ever pined for has golden hair, jade colored eyes, and a bit of a temper.”

“Hey, I don’t -,” Killian interrupted her with a kiss she never saw coming, but that Emma immediately melted into. How could she fight with someone when they could do this instead? God it was perfect, everything she’d ever dreamed of, and even more he loved her! He’d said he loved her right? Oh please let her have heard that right. She waited when they broke apart, hoping he’d reiterate the words she’d always craved.

“She’s also brilliant and beautiful and bold. She’s kind and honest, fair and good. She’s always looking out for the people who she loves, and by God when she smiles at me, it’s like heaven itself made just for me.”

Emma looked at his face, searching for any trace of deceit, but there was none. He was pouring his heart out to her and laying it all on the line. It was just what she’d always wanted.

“I love you, Emma. I knew I would from the moment that we met. It’s you Emma. The girl I can’t get over is you, and I have no plans of ever trying. You’re it for me. I know we’re young, but I don’t care because -,”

This time it was her turn to pull him for a kiss, and she couldn’t help herself. After months of wanting him, he was finally hers, or maybe he had been all along. It felt so good to finally have this, to know that the dream she’d been waiting for was even better than her imagination could fathom, and only when they broke apart did she realize what this meant.

“Oh my God I messed everything up,” she said, hiding her face in his neck in embarrassment. “You tried to ask me to prom in the most romantic way and I ruined it.”

“I wasn’t planning to ask you to prom, Emma.”

“You weren’t?”

“No, love I was asking you to be mine, just as I’m yours. But as for ruining things, surely you must know you never could,” he said, his fingers running through her hair as he gazed at her adoringly. “You’ve made this the best day I’ve ever known. You told me you loved me. You let down the last bit of wall that was separating us. Everything’s been said now. There’s no secrets, no more doubts. You know my heart and I know yours. I couldn’t ask for more. And as for prom, if you want to go then we’ll go. I want to be wherever you are, Emma. For me it’s just that simple.”

“I want that too,” Emma said, kissing him again and feeling the lightness and joy that came with love that was reciprocal and true. After all the heart ache, they were together, and Emma knew their love would be forever. No matter what may come, or where they went from here, they were just meant to be. Always had been, always would be.

And though they spent the next few hours surrounding themselves in their newly found bliss, they eventually concurred that prom was a must. After all, Ruby would kill her if she didn’t go, and with Killian by her side it was bound to be a night she’d always remember and never forget.

…………….

You the type of guy to write a song about You're laid back, nobody know what's on your mind We been talking for a while now (We been talking for a while now) And I been falling for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

You the type of guy to tell your mom about You're laid back, but running circles round my mind I been falling for a while now (I been falling, I been falling, I been falling) But you been lying for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you (I can't get over you)

I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

Post-Note: So there we have it. I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble, and to my lovely readers who always ask me for more bisexual Ruby representation, I had you guys in mind with this one too. I know it’s a very short feature, and I am usually very committed to the Ruby/Graham pairing, but I’m happy to share the love for everyone that I can. I wish the show had developed a lot of these characters and relationships more, but hey, there’s always fanfic! Anyway, thank you all for reading and hope you have a great weekend!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs #cs au #cs ff #cs fluff #cs hs au #captain swan high school au #emma swan #killian jones #ruby lucas #ouat au #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #i luv you #i luv you cs #prompted fic

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a0x0annie · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Stowaway.

I shouldn't have drunk so much.

It was three in the morning, or at least that was my best guess, based on the pink clock hanging on the opposite side of my tiny room and my not-so-trustworthy-now eyes. I was laying half-dead on the bed, having no energy whatsoever.

It wasn't the best birthday written in my memory - especially considering the fact that I remembered exactly none of the previous ones - so I decided to treat myself with a little bottle of wine...

...and ended up buying the whole shelf.

But fuck it, after all that happened lately I fully deserved it.

- Happy birthday, thottie - I said under my nose, pouring yet another glass of the driest red wine I could find. It was my "bitter" day, so I was happy that nobody bought me a cake.

In fact, nobody bought me anything, actually. But that's just a little detail. Not that I even told anyone my birth date, either.

All of a sudden, I heard knocking on the door. I had no idea who wanted to meet me at that hour, but I was way too drunk to care enough to check it. Hell, I had no energy to even open my eyes. Maybe someone had a vision in their dream, magically learned what day it was, and wanted to wish me a late happy birthday?

Not likely, but no one would ever stop me from dreaming.

Still staying in the comfort of my bed, I yelled lazily:

- Come on in, lost soul. You can leave the presents in the corner.

For a few moments I wasn't sure if they heard me, but just then the door opened gently.

Was it June? Ryona, perhaps? Better not her, she'd kill me.

- Good evening, Stowaway.

Cal.

Suddenly, all of my energy got restored, and the next second I found myself laying in a more seductive manner, with my eyes fully centered on this fucking giant. And dear God, he was just as tall as he was hot.

- Oh hello there, Captain Handsome. What kind of an urgent emergency is bringing you to me at this lovely hour?

Captain.

Handsome.

Just wow, Cath. You're absolutely the best at handling talking to people while drunk, aren't you.

I couldn't hold back a smirk though, when I saw the confusion mixed with a little bit of curiosity and fake frustration in his honey gold eyes.

- Oh God, not you, too - He whined, closing the door with a loud crack, in which all of the remaining gentleness that had surprised me earlier disappeared. Well, that was quick, not gonna lie.

- And here I thought you would like it. Isn't it cruel, even for you, to break my little poor heart like that? - I leaned back, dramatically covering my eyes with the outer part of my palm. - Though I might have gone a little overboard with the whole "handsome" thing, I agree. My bad.

I loved messing with him. I just believed that this overly proud, self-absorbed prick with a stick up his ass longer than my life line needed a little cutting down to size.

He frowned, unsatisfied.

- Call me that once more and I'm cutting your salary by half. - He leaned against the wall. - What even made you think it was a good idea?

- A tiny, itsy-bitsy bit of alcohol, probably.

He then noticed a few bottles laying on the ground. On the bed. In my empty "presents corner".

And fucking everywhere else.

Calderon started grinning, and I couldn't help but feel the irresistible urge to wipe this little smirk off of his sweet face.

- If anyone asks, it's grape juice.

- What kind of grape juice forces people to make a fool out of themselves in front of the others?

- Well, I should be probably asking you this question - I had to bite my lip to hide the mischievous grin that was about to spread all over my face, seeing Cal's reaction. - What? Did I strike your nerve, Captain?

- When didn't you? - He brought himself back to the straight standing position, and being the classic grumpy Calderon everyone knew so well again. - Well, you're having fun, I see. I only hope it won't affect your presence during tomorrow's duties.

Saying that, he lowered his eyebrows and gave me that firm look he just loved giving everyone.

- It would be a shame if you weren't around, considering that you're starting this week with your first kitchen shift. That would be pretty incompetent, even for you. - He gave me a sarcastic look. - And besides, you wouldn't like to be kicked out of the crew so soon, would you?

I rolled my eyes.

- I'd manage, I'm a smart girl. But wait... - I sat more comfortably. - Was this your entire point of coming to my room? At three in the morning? - I breathed in and out loudly. - Oh my God, and here I thought you couldn't be any more... you.

- I just wanted to be sure that I won't have to starve, waiting for our lovely princess bubblegum to make us all this exceptional honor of waking up and condescendingly serving us a meal. - He looked at me sarcastically. Again. - Also, was that an insult? If so, I feel deeply offended - After saying that, he processed to raise one of his eyebrows to the sky.

I fake gasped.

- Me? Insulting you? Never! Now I am offended. I love your ass-stick so much that I wait for the day when you finally pull it out so I can see it closely - I formed a little heart with my hands.

A part of me didn't buy his excuses, or maybe didn't want to buy them, so I asked:

- Are you sure this was your only motive coming here, though?

- Don't even try to provoke me.

I smiled to myself.

- Don't you worry, sir. I was going to fall asleep soon anyway...

That was a lie.

- ...and at the very least I didn't plan to misbehave.

That was an even bigger lie.

Suddenly, a fun idea crossed my mind.

I smiled and looked him straight in the eye, innocently.

- I mean, unless you order me to, of course. You're the captain here, after all.

That ought to be interesting, I thought.

Calderon realized what was going on, or at the very least that was what it seemed like based on the look painting on his face. Posing myself a little more seductively on the bed again I gave him a challenging look, and after a few moments of what I guessed was an inner fight whether to join me or not, his expression changed, mimicking my own.

Ladies and gentlemen, or whatever other pronoun you prefer, please give a warm welcome to our new Player 2!

Let me see what you've got on you then, golden boy.

I stood up from the bed and tried my best to walk up to him without tripping on one of the dozens of bottles left after my one-guest-only-party. I was doing just great (or so I thought), but then I remembered that one small detail, which was that I was kinda fucking drunk and my legs didn't work that well anymore.

After coming up with some - not gonna lie -quite creative curses in my head, I tripped and started falling off.

Oh yes, breaking my nose was definitely going to make me look incredibly sexy. Good thing I'd look amazing no matter the circumstances - or so I'm told, at least.

Accepting the fact that I was about to lose my own game that I started literally a minute ago, and probably a few teeth as a bonus, I covered my face with my arms and prayed to not fell on a bottle. I had enough shitty scars already.

Just before hitting the ground, I unexpectedly felt a tight grip on my waist that held me back and I sighed with relief. Looks like for a moment I forgot that Cal was, indeed, in the same room as me. And I could say a lot of not exactly favorable things about him, but even he wouldn't just let me break my entire face in front of his feet.

And besides, blood is quite hard to wash off, so here's that, too.

As I was making myself stand on two feet again with a little of Cal's help, I rememberd my first day on the A6 and what I told June when the exactly same situation happened.

Maybe our flirting battle wasn't over yet after all.

Why am I falling so often here, by the way?

- Nice catch! Now you can tell the others that I fell for you. - I winked at him.

This line is fucking brilliant and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Cal didn't look too impressed, though.

- Well, hadn't you before that, already?

...Was I this obvious?

I tried to keep a straight face, ignoring the heat that was spreading all over my cheeks. Wow, I blush so rarely that I've actually forgotten how it felt like.

And I didn't like this feeling at all.

- Aren't you a little bit too confident, dear? - saying that, I tried to keep my balance. I didn't want to rely on him so much.

When I was finally stable on the ground and in (almost) full control of my body once again, I "accidentally" lost my balance and leaned closer to him. Then, I wrapped my arms around his neck like it was nothing; like I was just trying to not fall again.

To be honest, I wasn't sure if he would even let me do that, but he did - and that was the moment when I knew my plan was working.

Our faces were almost touching and I had to hide the excitement of knowing what was going to happen next, because come on, even a child would guess that.

I looked him straight in the eyes with a bold expression.

He then asked me with visible playfulness in his eyes:

- I knew you were quite a flirt before, but... - he laughed shortly. - Do you always mess with hearts of the innocent when drunk?

- Only with the ones that I'm interested in when sober. Very interested in - I said without skipping a beat.

A huge, mischievous grin spread across my face as I saw Calderon's beautiful reaction. It was so obvious he didn't see that coming, and the image of him squirming under my gaze was quite satisfactory to watch.

- Oh, what's that, captain? Caught you off guard? - I was so drunk that I started laughing at my own stupid joke. - Get it? Off guard?

Did I really just cockblock myself like that.

Wow, genius.

After a few seconds, my incredibly dry and unfunny pun hit Cal like a hard rock that must have damaged his head, because he started laughing uncontrollably with me. The sad thing was that, unlike me, he was actually sober. Oh, Cap.

I couldn't tell how long we were in this state, but let me tell you, way too long.

- Okay, you got me here, I admit - he giggled one more time shortly in a low voice, composing himself way faster than I ever could. - What do you want now, a cookie?

- If you insist. - I said that, wiping tears off my face, still smiling like an idiot. - I'm always down for something sweet, ya know.

Like a kiss.

Or something a little more than a kiss.

Just sayin'.

He started looking serious again and I couldn't believe how fast he went from an adorable dork to an ordinary jackass in a matter of seconds.

No, wait. I could, actually. It's Calderon, after all.

- Alright, it was fun and all, but now better wipe that stupid grin off of your face and go to bed.

- Or else? - I asked him, looking from under my long eyelashes, as innocently as I possibly could, and smiling like an angel that I definitely wasn't.

- Or else I'll have to make you do it.

This simple sentence was enough to make my whole body hot, with the desire so powerful that could knock me out any second.

I didn't expect him to answer me like that at all.

Am I horny or am I horny?

- I'd love to see you try - I said, while desperately trying my best to keep my cool. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

But then he looked me with lust in his eyes and my whole plan of not acting like I've lost my mind fell apart.

I felt like a complete idiot, no one has ever made me act like that except for this jackass. I was always the one making other lose their minds, for fuck's sake! How did the roles turn around so fast?

What's more important, why did I even like him this much? He was like every other high-class dick I've met in my life, and believe me, I've met a lot of them.

And yet, there was something... else, about him. Something that somehow made me interested in him.

For the first time in a very long time I was flirting not to gain what I wanted to survive or simply out of habit, but because I wanted to, and because I actually meant it. And I... almost felt like didn't have to keep my mask on.

Almost.

- You know that ignoring the orders of your boss is not the brightest idea, considering your current situation, right?

- Oh, shut up - I tip-toed, waiting for my kiss.

He then leaned down and whispered to my ear:

- Happy birthday, Stowaway.

And just like that, he was gone.

I smiled.

- Well played, Captain. Well played.

---------------------------------------------------

My first fanfic ever, yay! Haha

I'm not a writer and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry for all the mistakes, weird writing etc.

I had fun writing this though, so if anyone likes it I might post my other fics ^w^

Happy Valentine everyone ~

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madamespaceskunk · 4 years

Text

Hey everyone! Here’s a little scene from Chapter 31 for those of you who cannot wait. Don’t read if you don’t want any spoilers (it’s not the beginning of the chapter, which still needs some work). Again, I apologize for the long wait. It’s not easy for me to write during the lockdown. Take care!

She had already shared two juicy anecdotes about her youth with a wheezing Wanda when she noticed her nephew cautiously throwing a glance towards his mentor. The genius billionaire was currently talking to Happy and a woman she didn’t know, giving off an aura of pure charisma even with his back to them, and she realized she had not even said hello to him yet. Feeling a bit rude albeit pleasantly tipsy, she excused herself before simply walking straight towards him. She heard Happy say her name before she tapped the powerful man’s shoulder to make him turn around, vaguely noticing a weird look on her friend’s face and the even weirder fact that the great Tony Stark clearly flinched from her touch. She remained completely oblivious to the sudden paleness on her nephew’s face as he watched the whole exchange from afar.

‘Hey!’ she exclaimed with a bright smile. Tony Stark didn’t turn around right away. Instead, he looked at the floor for a couple of seconds. Maybe it was the alcohol but May thought that that little pause was outright weird. And had his breath stuttered or had she imagined it? But then he did turn around and seemed his usual charming self—the filthy rich and smug misogynistic bastard who had become Peter’s new father figure. She had read far too much about him ever since that day he had barged into their lives. Far, far too much. But he was a different man now, she had to keep reminding herself. And he was, after all, a pure genius.

‘Oh, hi, Mrs. Parker! Enjoying the cocktails?’ he said too loudly, not making eye contact.

‘I am, thanks!’ she replied, half-laughing. ‘I just realized I haven’t said hello, so… hello.’

‘Hello, hello’, he said to his feet.

Another weird pause. Suddenly, she thought what the hell, let’s do it! and took a decision out of the blue.

‘I—you know what? Can I have a word with you? I mean, if you’re not busy right now. I don’t want to interrupt any—’

‘Sure!’ he interrupted her, abruptly straightening up with a little bounce, looking ahead at the wall now, slightly rocking on his heels, his hands deep in his pockets. Happy gave her a bewildered look. She shrugged, her eyes glinting, and then she took the billionaire’s arm without thinking, pulling him away. She felt him resist a little. He was tense, even quite hard under her touch, and she belatedly realized that this was his prosthetic arm. She let go of him and her eyes went down. She inspected his hand and couldn’t help but feel it in her own, alcohol loosening her inhibitions.

‘Wow… it looks... so real...’

‘But doesn’t quite feel real, I know. So, what’s wrong?’ His tone was impatient. He even sounded pissed off.

‘Wrong? What? What are you talking about?’

‘Yeah, obviously something’s wrong, otherwise you would have spoken to me in front of Happy.’

‘There... was somebody else.’

‘So it’s private.’

She looked at him, surprised at the way his breaths were coming out short and jerky.

‘Yeah, I mean… I guess. I just… I wanted to apologize.’

‘Apolo—’ He didn’t finish the word, too stunned to fully form it.

‘Yes. Apologize. You see, I have a confession to make’, she almost whispered in a comical way. She studied his reaction. He truly was a very handsome man, with his deep brown eyes, perfect hair and carefully groomed moustache, goatee and beard. She felt amused at his bewilderment and took another sip of her margarita before dropping the truth. ‘I never really liked you. Quite the opposite in fact. You being Peter’s mentor… I must admit I had a hard time stomaching the whole… idea of it… as if you were gonna... taint him or something.’ She vaguely agitated her free hand with those words, laughing a little in the process. ‘I mean, no offense, but the stories I read about you… and the fact that you’re… you… But then I understood: you’re a good man. You always were beneath all that…glamor. Yeah, let’s just call it glamor... And not only that, you’re a great scientist! A great leader... a great teacher... a hero! I mean, you saved everybody, including me, and obviously including my son—nephew, sorry, I sometimes confuse the two, I’ve had him for so long…’

‘And three margaritas.’

‘And three marga—what? Hang on, how d’you know that?’ she asked, taking a step back, mirth coloring her voice and eyes.

‘I have supersight.’

‘What? What does that mean?’ She asked, laughing. ‘No, really?’

‘No. Happy told me.’

She laughed at that too. ‘Well, that makes more sense.

‘By the way, are you two still… whatever it is you were doing?’

‘We’re friends’, she quickly clarified right after another sip.

‘Just friends?’

‘Just friends.’

‘With benefits.’

It took her a few seconds to recover from that comment. ‘Wow, that was… really inappropriate’, she replied.

‘You’re drunk; why bother with civility?’

She scoffed, still amused, but still determined to go on. ‘So anyways, I wanted to thank you. God, have I ever even thanked you? For what you did? For saving him? Oh my god, I feel so ashamed! I should’ve given you call or sent you a card or—’

‘Please god, no, I hate cards. And actually, I think you did thank me, via Happy back in June if I can recall.’

‘Oh. Right.’

‘And no need to thank me, really. Your nephew saved my life more times than I can count now, and there’s hardly anything I can teach him at this point. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back to Dr. Cortez; top secret superhero stuff…’

And with a quirky tilt of his body that somehow reminded May of a wink, he was gone.

Her smile didn’t fade right away. Her sluggish brain cells did not immediately put two and two together. After a moment however, as Wanda was enthusiastically debating with Rhodey on the best way to cook the perfect cheesecake, her mind slowly began to reel. Even through her pleasant margarita-infused haze she slowly convinced herself that the way he had spoken to her indicated that something was wrong. He had spoken too fast, faster than usual, even sounding out of breath. He had looked pale, almost sick, sweating, visibly too hot under his tweed suit. He had been unable to maintain eye contact for more than a second, as if looking her in the eye too long would have cost him something. During her little monologue, she had been able to catch tiny glimpses at the soul underneath all the layers of wit and charisma. He had appeared… hurt, for a lack of a better word; hurt and something else she couldn’t pinpoint. Moments later, she scanned the room for him, wanting to see him again for whatever confirmation she was looking for. He was nowhere to be seen. She checked in every corner, behind every person, but yes, he had clearly left the room. What if—

‘What was that about?’ came Happy’s voice to her left.

‘What? Oh, I… We simply had a little chat.’

‘A little chat?’

‘I wanted to apologize for having doubted him. He’s a great mentor for Peter.’

Happy marked a pause. That discomfort… that weirdness… Her mind conjured up the exact same look in Peter’s eyes a few minutes before.

As he had been looking at Tony Stark.

Happy saw it: something dawning on her. He swiftly reacted, blurting out: ‘You do know his wife’s filing for divorce, right? He’s a bit… shaken by the whole process… even though their separation was a mutual choice.’

It was a simple way to put the fire out and it seemed to work. May gasped in surprise at the unexpected piece of news, and then it was all she could talk about for the rest of the night, whispering questions and comments to poor Happy who tried his best to hide his distress and remorse. Little did he know that she had not even been close to discovering the truth at that moment, and that his little trick, instead of stirring her away from it, would turn out to be the very trigger to her horrifying epiphany.

#too much like me #starker #sneak peek

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rpgsandbox · 5 years

Link

Since the dawn of time, humankind has struggled to survive the ravages of nature, the frailty of the body, and the cruel whims of fate. This is known by all. But what only the initiated know is that nature and its attendant miseries are the least of our concerns. There exist powers, realms, beyond the comprehension of a sane mind, and the dark corners of the earth are home to the twisted offspring of these powers, and to exiles from these realms.

How has humanity survived in the face of threats whose very names can sear our souls? Some say by the grace of God, some say by mere luck or by the strength of the human spirit. All these speakers are wrong. We survive because we have captured some few of these supernatural threats and put them to use. Humanity has stolen a dark fire from gods it cannot comprehend, and wields it desperately against the coming night.

ORPHEUS, a secretive paramilitary organization tracing its roots to ancient history, strives to maintain a monopoly on deployable paranormal power, operating in strike teams and secret cells around the globe. Their methods are ruthless, their resources bottomless, and their directive simple: Assess, Contain, Employ. The ORPHEUS Protocol is a tabletop role playing game in which players explore a world of eldritch horror, occult espionage, and shadowy paramilitary engagement. To this end, players take on the role of a supernaturally augmented or impeccably skilled operative with a role in ORPHEUS's eternal mission to protect the world and consolidate its supernatural power in the process. These operatives investigate strange occurrences, navigate dangerous social situations with cunning and finesse, and do battle with forces inconceivable to the unbroken human psyche.

Players familiar with The X-Files, Twin Peaks, Hellboy, Cosmic Horror Fiction, or even the Jason Bourne films should have a good idea of the game's intended feel. ORPHEUS Operatives must attempt to make sense of the impossible and insulate the “normal” world from factors it is woefully unequipped to handle. Players will infiltrate cults, prevent terror attacks, catalogue mind-shattering metaphysical phenomena, and kill and be killed by creatures that should not be, all the while engaging with a tense and delicately balanced system of resource management that mechanically models the operative’s dwindling internal reserves, the mounting dread of the supernatural, and their luck just plain running out.

The ORPHEUS Protocol is tabletop roleplaying game that has been in development for nearly 5 years. Rob Stith, the designer, was struck by the tension that the mechanics of games like Dread, Call of Cthulhu, and Don’t Walk in Winter Wood could bring to a standard RPG experience, and wished to combine that feeling with the tactical decision making found in many Euro-style board games, and set to work on creating a horror-thriller role playing game whose foundation lay on resource management mechanics. Rather than go through closed beta testing, The ORPHEUS Protocol’s main beta test has been recorded, edited, and produced as an Actual Play podcast covering a continuous, sprawling narrative of global occult conspiracy, and has been airing weekly since 2016, with well over 100 episodes and counting.

The unique thrill of The ORPHEUS Protocol rests on the use of multiple, interlocking systems of resource management that play out over different time frames. The different scopes of these different systems allows The ORPHEUS Protocol to be played in a longform campaign style, as well as more focused, episodic adventures or one-shots that place more emphasis on the more short-term, immediate systems. Multiverse-spanning epics as well as contained slasher film-style stories can, and have, been played to the horrified delight of players and GMs alike using The ORPHEUS Protocol.

The book itself will be run 300-400 pages (depending on stretch goals), and will be full-size, full-color, and professionally illustrated. The book will cover the game’s rules, character creation, setting information, and advice for GM’s to get the most out of the game’s systems as well as how to adapt the setting and system to make something all their own. Some of our stretch goals will allow us to invite writers from some of your favorite role playing products and Actual Play podcasts to contribute adventure seeds, dark mysteries, horrific creatures, and other terrifying delights.

In addition to the hardcover book, the game will also be offered as a traditional PDF, and on the Roll20 marketplace. The Roll20 format is discussed in more detail below.

The ORPHEUS Protocol runs on an original system designed by Rob Stith specifically to model the mounting dread and desperation experienced by people in over their heads in the kind of horrific and tense situations one would expect from the cosmic horror-paramilitary espionage setting. To achieve this effect, as many aspects of the game as possible are put directly into the players’ hands as resources they must make tense, important decisions with. On a moment-to-moment basis in combat, the players must decide how to spend their Initiative to best approach the current crisis. Within a Scene, players must decide the most opportune time to make use of the special mechanical advantages granted to them by their skills. Players also have pools of Mental, Physical, and Spiritual Strain, which represent their inner reserves, toughness, and luck in these different areas, and they must decide how and when to spend these resources; they confer great advantages, but can be spent much faster than they are regained if one isn’t careful. To make matters more tense, Strain not only increases a player’s effectiveness, but can also be used to buy down incoming damage, leaving the player to make hard choices about whether to go all-in on offense, or save Strain to weather the storm. On an even longer time scale, players must decide how much to make use of their supernatural abilities, if they have them; for tapping into unnatural powers grants a powerful edge, but slowly drains the player character’s humanity, making them more and more an inhuman manifestation of the strange forces that strengthen them.

Adventures and campaigns in The ORPHEUS Protocol focus on three distinct, but interwoven avenues of challenge: Investigation, Combat, and Social Influence. Each aspect is equally important, and often equally deadly.

Investigation

ORPHEUS operatives are more than soldiers. They must investigate bizarre happenings around the globe, and attempt to understand the eldritch and the unexplainable. The work of an ORPHEUS operative combines some of the most challenging aspects of a private detection, crime scene investigation, scientific research, antiquarian study, and other disciplines, all the while carrying the risk of the operative learning too much of the truth and losing their mind.

Combat

ORPHEUS operatives are often called upon to solve problems very directly, as well. Shootouts with vicious drug gangs, deadly engagements with private corporate strike teams, and direct, violent confrontation with creatures whose very existence blasphemes against the concept of nature are all an expected part of the job.

Social Influence

Just as deadly and tense as any occult mystery or desperate spate of violence, however, are the delicate social situations ORPHEUS operatives can find themselves in. Cult infiltration, corporate espionage, clandestine meetings with informants, and other such tasks can pit the operative’s life and safety against one small slip of the tongue or one failed bluff.

If you are interested in seeing more of what The ORPHEUS Protocol can do, feel free to check out our playtest document. It includes the basic rules, 5 sample characters, advice for GMs; everything needed to get a taste of the game.

DriveThruRPG - ORPHEOUS Protocol Playtest

The beta testing process for The ORPHEUS Protocol has taken a rather unusual shape. I've been running a campaign for the last 3 years, and producing our sessions into an Actual Play podcast. In this way, an ongoing series of windows into the game's development are available for free to the public. The campaign is an intricate and epic story of eldritch monstrosities, corporate skulduggery, and heroes facing desperate odds.

The show can be found HERE, and can also be found on iTunes (Apple Podcasts), Stitcher, or your podcast app of choice.

The ORPHEUS Protocol will be released in the traditional formats of PDF and hardcover, however we are also working in conjunction with Roll20 on this project. Roll20 is the world’s largest Virtual Tabletop, with over 3 million users. Virtual tabletops are an ever increasing part of the RPG community, with millions of people that have their game experience solely on these platforms.

The ORPHEUS Protocol will be built for complete incorporation into the Roll20 platform. This includes Roll20 specific character sheets, an in-platform rules compendium, and more. The Roll20 version will be a seamless digital product that will provide the best possible online play experience for The ORPHEUS Protocol.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Fri, June 7 2019 3:00 AM BST

Website: [The Orpheus Protocol] [twitter]

#RPG #kickstarter #The Orpheus Protocol

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jordm · 5 years

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Heartland 13x01 - Snakes and Ladders review

WELCOME TO HEARTLAND SEASON 13!

After a quiet two seasons off (weather seasons... not Heartland seasons), we are back!

TBH, I kind of forgot this show was coming back until CBC actually started doing promos but once I saw the trailer, I was very excited! It looks like the season is going back to basics - about the heart, about the home, about real-life (with some TV dramatization for effect) and I AM HERE FOR IT. More about everyday life and less Mongolia please!

Also Kurt could be Curt but when I wrote this, I went with Kurt so whatever. Complete side note: I’ve been half heatedly watching Big Brother this season and I kind of dislike (but respect his game) and Jackson is gonna probably be one of the final two and he’s kind of a jackass so on brand for his name? :D

AMY AND TY

Apparently some client has been bugging them for weeks, one Kurt Jackson, to take on his horse. Amy, in reality has said no because she has enough clients and cannot handle take on another horse (the correct response). Even Georgie points out that there are so many new horses at the farm. However Kurt, clearly hurt and unable to accept the truth, posts multiple bad reviews (apparently under different names) and ultimately forces Ty and Amy to take him on as a client, even though she was 10 OTHER CLIENT HORSES! I’d imagine he wishes he just listened to Amy and didn’t force her to take his horse in.

“I see you found room in your schedule” says Kurt - only because you basically forced them too *rolls eyes*

I know this is nary the point, but if Ty and Amy are so busy, would it be within reason to suggest they hire someone to assist with the load? I also don’t know how i feel with them giving into peer pressure to add another client horse when they’re over their client capacity already but I understand why they caved, especially after Tim told them his experience with his father. It also sets a precedence that they can be bullied into taking client horses at last minute.

Q: Is this why Amy gets called Horse Killer in the promo? Me thinks so. But is it because his horse actually dies or he is overdramatisizing everything??

Alright so at this point, I had to take a phone call (and i never went back to watch it lol), but I got the idea that she had to call her clients and tell them the bad news. And then they all came and were extremely angry so anyways that’s that.

Was Ty right to insist to take on Sarge? Honestly, it’s not so bad. Again, Hindsight 20/20. But, initially Ty sided with his wife and said no to Kurt, and only conceded once he say that Kurt could literally ruin his business with his multiple bad reviews. Even Amy thought it would be for the best (”for the horse”) and Tim and Georgie conceded Kurt would never stop. So, was this a case of “you should have listened to me?” Maybe, but it’s not as bad as his other “Ty walks over Amy” situations because he did, at the very least, listen to Amy and only said yes once his business was in “Jeopardy” and everyone in the kitchen agreed.

HOWEVER, at the same time, would it have been better to simply ignore him and maybe rebuttal his review online like we’ve seen other companies do irl like, “Kurt we know all these reviews are you. We only said no because we were overcapacity and didn’t want to provide less than subpar service”. Or do something to get their side out before it gets worse. Addiontally, Curt was only saying ‘after weeks of trying to get an appointment, i showed up and they couldn’t make time therefore unprofessional’ , which isn’t really that bad? (unless they didn’t show the nastier comments). They’re bound to get SOME bad reviews at some point right? It’s a business it can’t all be good.

The scene from the promo doesn’t appear in the first episode so, perhaps next episode is when they get confronted at Maggies?

GEORGIE

Georgie is back from Switzerland! Except... Phoenix can’t go home yet because there’s been an incident. Phoenix has been exposed to a contaminated feed bucket, however, it’s a good thing her Uncle Ty is a vet and can quarantine Phoenix... except, oh WAIT, apparently this disease is airborne or something? Anyways, point is, instead of just Phoenix being quarantined the entire farm is quarantined. Oops.

Hindsight is 20/20 I guess.

Georgie blames herself for making them quarantine Phoenix at the farm and they were just supporting her, but let’s not be results oriented. If this disease was not airborne or whatever, everything would have been fine. And wanting to not be separate from your horse for 21 days is totally normal. In all other cases, Phoenix and everything would have been fine, nary Georgie living at the airport because she finds out Phoenix is sick and cannot be apart while other vets treat him. At least this way, a vet she knows and trusts was looking after Phoenix and she can be close to him?

Also, shouldn’t Ty/Amy/Airport vet shown a LITTLE judgement in not releasing Phoenix until the blood work was back and confirmed it wouldn’t be a entire ranch quarantine? Perhaps she shouldn’t have pushed but she’s 17 for god’s sake and there are PROFESSIONALS around her who perhaps should have guided better.

Besides a little client backlash, at the end of the episode all the horses seem to be on the mend and everyone’s spirits up. So, hey? At least every other client didn’t retaliate like Kurt?

TIM

Lisa and Tim are not getting along. And I’m Team Lisa. Drinking milk from a container when the cups are stored one reach away seems... lazy. But alas that’s Tim.

Tim is a grown ass adult and should have his own place - what about the money he has from the Big River sale? Surely he can rent at least. It’s also hilarious at how Tim thinks that he’ll be “hurting Lisa and Jack’s feelings” when in reality... thats what they both want.

It’s also hilarious that Tim thinks that the four of them (yes, i’m including Luke ;) ) would fit in the house (even if the loft would make a good bachelor pad) when he feels like the three of them (Jack, Lisa, Tim) can’t fit. And how he “suggested” that Ty and Amy didn’t want to ask Jack/Lisa about because they’re “ashamed.” No Tim, this was your doing and YOUR idea.

This version of Tim just makes me dislike the character. It was HIS idea to kick Ty and Amy out of their loft (even if they “agreed” it was a better idea), and “divide Katie’s room in two.” Shouldn’t they ask Lou or Katie about this first? Even though everyone is hesitant about the plan, including Luke (”oh how long is he going to be here for?”), Amy/Ty (”what about Luke?”) and Lisa (”you’re going to build a wall?!”).

And here’s the thing: IT WORKS. But, to his credit, he does know when to stop; for example when he realizes Georgie needs the loft more than him and he moves out into his trailer. So um... I guess alls well that ends well, except it doesn’t excuse his behaviour at all? Why couldn’t Luke just move into the house?

JACK AND LUKE

Jack tries to teach Luke how to ride a horse but after a few spooks, he’s out. In the end, Luke does ride because Jack is just a wonderful human being that we all should strive to be and poses a question which will likely lead to the flashbacks we saw in the promo: “Who is June Bartlett?”

STRAY ENDS

WHO IS JUNE BARTLETT???!

Tim telling contractor guy that he’s going to be living on site and looking after his progress is so funny, but also, if it helps the house be completed faster then hey, i’m all here for it. Just don’t smother the poor guy before he can finish the house.

SONGS IN THIS EPISODE @heartlandians

Dreamer - Jenn Grant

My Heart Knows Where To Go - Mikey Wax

#heartland #season 13 #snakes and ladders #review

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jameslockley · 4 years

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Paul Wesley+ Cismale + He/Him.┊ ❛ ━ hey, is it just me or do you hear ( Bat Out of Hell By Meat Loaf ) playing in the distance ? oh, thats just ( Sunflare ), a ( Chaotic Good ) member of the league of ( Heroes ). i suspect they might be ( James Lockley ), a ( Thirty Two ) year old ( Club Owner ) with the ability to ( Absorb Solar Energy). according to my sources, ( He ) can be ( Charming ), but also ( Hedonistic ) which is probably why they remind everyone of ( Nights filled with debauchery and Mornings spent in confession) so much. anyway, a (Superhero) or not, crystalline city is keeping a close eye on them! (Peanut, 23, EST, he/him)

Personal Stats:

Name: James Lockley

Age: Thirty Two

Date of Birth: June 6th

Place of Birth: Crystalline City

Current Place of Residence: Crystalline City

Occupation: Owner of The Black Marble Night Club

Networth: $50 Million USD

Alias: Sunflare

Identity Status: Secret

Combat Stats:

Strength: 9/10 (At peak Solar Energy Capacity. See Powers)

Offense: 8/10

Defense: 8/10

Speed: 9/10 (At peak Solar Energy Capacity. See Powers)

Durability: 9/10 (At peak Solar Energy Capacity. See Powers)

Accuracy: 5/10

Agility: 3/10

Stamina: 9/10 (At peak Solar Energy Capacity. See Powers)

Teamwork: 5/10

Stealth: 1/10

Close combat: 7/10

Bladed weapons: 1/10

Blunt weapon: 1/10

Ranged weapons: 1/10

Superpowers / abilities [solar energy absorption]: 9/10

Traps/Setups: 1/10

Medic: 1/10

Powers:

Main:

Solar Energy Absorption: User can absorb solar energy into their body and use it in various ways, gaining some form of advantage, either by enhancing themselves, gaining the drained power, using it as power source etc., either temporarily or permanently.

Variant Applications:

Personal Gravity: The ability to alter one’s own gravity. This allows for flight.

Solar Empowerment: The ability to become faster, stronger, and more durable when one comes into contact with sunlight

Solar Attacks: The ability to project beams, balls, and bursts of solar energy from one’s body

James’ Solar Energy Absorption:

James’ use of solar energy absorption is comparable to that of a Kryptonian from the DC Universe. The solar energy absorbed into his body causes his cells to become more dense, strengthening his physical durability and strength. It also allows for him to alter his personal gravity, granting him the capability of flight. Finally, he can use the stored solar energy in his body and project it into solar energy attacks.

James’ body works like a solar powered battery. He absorbs solar energy into himself, giving him a finite use of all things listed above. At peak solar capacity, he is capable of lifting several tonnes, and is heavily resistant to physical damage. However, the use of his powers causes his solar energy reserves to deplete. The more he uses any of these abilities, the less energy he had stored, and the less effective these abilities become.

As an example, at peak solar capacity James would be capable of stopping a crane from crushing someone. However, if his solar energy reserves were at half or less, then the crane would be too heavy for him to lift. Similarly, at peak solar capacity, James’ skin would be capable of deflecting a bullet, but at half, it would not.

The use of certain abilities exhausts the solar energy he has stored faster than others. While the use of his strength and durability don’t deplete a lot of energy, the use of flight and solar rays do.

Furthermore, unlike Superman, whose body naturally takes in solar energy on it’s own, James must consciously focus on absorbing the energy into himself.

Weaknesses:

Lead (direct): For reasons that cannot be fully explained, James’ body has an adverse reaction to lead, comparable to Superman’s reaction to Kryptonite. Lead that comes into contact with his skin renders him incapable of tapping into the solar energy store inside his body until the lead is removed. This weakness is known to very few.

Solar Energy Depletion (Indirect): Because there is a limit to how much solar energy his body can store at one time, and the use of his powers causes that energy to deplete, weakening his abilities over time, James can be rendered increasingly vulnerable if he is forced to continue using his powers for an extended period of time. If the solar reserves in his body run out completely, he has only the capabilities of the average human being, apart from possessing some skill as a hand to hand combatant.

Flaws:

Strengths:

Fighting Style:

commander / duelist / honorable / dishonorable / would have others do their fighting / stealthy / long-ranged / melee / technological / sorcery / superhuman abilities / has fought in a tourney / a lover of fighting / a hater of fighting / cowardly / reckless / strategic / uses underhand tricks / renowned for their skill / trained / untrained / keeps what little skill they have secret / won a battle / lost a battle / merciful / unmerciful

Any lasting injuries from combat?:

A series of scars on his torso from when he was shot with lead bullets

About:

- James Lockley was born into a rich family, and never found himself really wanting for much of anything, always being granted whatever his heart desired, the moment he desired it.

- When he turned 18, he was granted his portion of the family fortune, and used it to open a night club in Crystalline City called The Black Marble, turning it into one of the premier night clubs that the city has to offer.

- James has always been a lover of the vices in life. He’s extremely hedonistic, and so he gives in to his impulses night in and night out.

- This has always been a bit of a struggle for him, because he’s always been a devout Christian. And yet, for the past 14 years, he’s been heavily self indulgent and sinful. He’s spent many mornings in confession. He feels guilty for always giving in to his impulses rather than listening to the moral side of himself, but he doesn’t know how to stop.

- The discovery of his abilities two years ago brought about a revelation in his life. He figured since he was unable to bring himself to change, to be better, that God had given him a means to make up for his sins by granting him powers to protect, and save people from danger. James took up the mantle of Sunflare, and ever since then, he’s tried to serve as a symbol of hope, optimism, and bravery, all while continuing to live his sin filled life of debauchery and hedonism at The Black Marble. There is a huge amount of duality to the man, and both sides represent a genuine part of him; the difficult part is getting those parts to reconcile with each other.

Additional info:

Hi everyone! I’m Peanut and I’m thrilled to be here with you guys. If you would like to plot anything with James, please don’t hesitate to shoot me a message! Same goes for if you have any questions about anything explained here!

#gloryhqs.intro

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