Oh, God. For The First Time In Since Shed First Gone A-sea, Anne Feels Something Like Seasicknesses Roiling

Oh, God. For the first time in since she’d first gone a-sea, Anne feels something like seasicknesses roiling over her in tempestuous waves. She’s cracked herself with rage already: her face remains an open book, disgust and nausea rippling across it. The feeling ran deeper than terror, the imagined weight of it already yoked across her neck. She’s the brains and the brawn’s for leadership, but only that; the benign temper, the beaming charisma, the separation of self from work, all things she lacks. Her response isn’t born out of malice or contempt, but out of the rising bile in her throat.

“War.” It’s this horseman or none—at least none that tries to place her as captain. “I haven’t the stomach for leadership. Turns like sour milk in the gut. Jack was right about it disagreeing with my sunny disposition.”

She would sooner jumped into shark-infested waters than agree to a captaincy.

Anne looks away with a tsk when the question’s batted back to her. Without Rakatak’s knowledge—or perhaps with it, but unannounced to her—Anne has tried to leave the Red Horse. More than once, even. She’s tried wheedling her way into other berths, but touched by the Horseman as she is, she’s been turned away at every opportunity. Those that don’t turn because of the Red Horse turn because of Jack and the Ranger. She’s well and truly committed to her watery grave now.

Irritable—as if she’s ever anything else—Anne flips her hand in an almost violent gesture, as if trying to wave the matter off altogether.

“Congratu-fuckin-lations, ye now know the disposition of yer fuckin crew. En’t my fuckin duty t’figure out the oughts; that’s a right of the captain.” Quartermasters, even unofficial ones like Anne had been, are not in charge of praise or reward among the crew. They keep the ship ready and primed, and mete out discipline on the captain’s behalf. Finding the missing pieces to a successful voyage has never been on her roster of duties, never mind within her skill set. It seems to her to be one of the few duties of a real captain, a successful captain.

❝ eugh, don’t be nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back. ❞ (from Astarion of course XD)

baldur's gate 3 starters (part 1)

Anne opens her mouth, her brows lowered, to argue with Astarion—it’s not being nice, it’s being even—when a new thought occurs and draws her brows up, mouth closing. If he doesn’t want to be “nice” back, she just won’t be “nice” in the first place. She shrugs and pockets the trinket instead.

“Say no more. Kindness be gone—poof!”

"OOPS... I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

maybe i've developed feelings.

did you just expect me to keep my distance?

i'm afraid you'll break my heart.

i've had feelings for you all this time.

consider it a crush. just a crush.

i've been meaning to tell you the truth about my feelings.

i can't really help how i feel, now can i?

have you noticed the way i stare at you?

i can't keep lying to myself about my feelings.

it's all right if you don't feel the same.

it's difficult to be around you and not feel this way.

you make it easy to catch feelings.

you showed me kindness when no one else would.

how long have you felt this way about me?

i'm not very good at concealing a crush.

would you consider it a crush, or would you consider it... more?

i knew you had feelings for me.

why did you lie about how you felt?

you make me dizzy just by looking at me.

i can't keep myself together when you're near me.

i didn't think you'd ever feel the same way about me.

it's only a crush. it's harmless. it'll go away.

we're not supposed to feel this way.

from the moment we met, i knew.

you're rather cute, you know.

i can't exactly control my heart!

this isn't some thing i can just turn on and off at whim!

these are feelings! real feelings!

do you feel the same or not?

do i even have a chance with you?

could you ever see me as more than a friend?

do you feel anything when you look at me?

i've had a crush on you ever since i can remember.

i'm not blushing!

that was really sweet of you.

no wonder everyone gets so flustered around you.

i don't blame them for staring. i mean, look at you!

you're a very beautiful person.

anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.

was that kiss too much?

maybe i never should have told you how i feel.

forget i said anything to you at all.

you're not like the others. you're special.

you just made my heart skip a beat.

am i blushing?

you have a tendency to make things more difficult... yet more fun.

i'm at quite a loss for words.

you really don't know your effect on people, do you?

i think of you very fondly.

if it were possible, yes. i'd be with you.

if only we could make this work between us.

i'm afraid to feel more than just an innocent crush.

who told you i had a crush?

you're still trying to make me blush.

i'm really infatuated with you.

❝ I will never love you ❞ but it's a soft confession from jimjam mwah

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ* ARRANGED MARRIAGE SENTENCE STARTERS 2.0

And there it is. Despite her best efforts and all that she had sworn to herself—to avoid her parents’ fate, to rise above the circumstances of her birth, to prove there’s something greater than mere duty out there—Anne has failed, and is doomed to a loveless marriage. The sinking of her heart has less to do with James than it does to do with the gilded cage snapping shut behind her. She’s seen loveless marriage, the misery it makes of a home. She’s the product of loveless marriage, the illegitimate love-child of Lord William Cormac, esq., and his maid, given legitimacy only because Lady Cormac failed to produce any heirs of her own for too many years. And now she’ll pass the burden of that on to whatever child is conceived in this new loveless marriage, and the cycle of unhappy wives leading unhappy lives will continue. Anne swallows around the lump in her throat and tries not to hate the man so gently holding her hands, so nicely trying to do what she’s asked of him in giving her honesty.

She just hadn’t realized how bitter a pill to swallow his honesty would prove.

Anne slips her hands out of his and abruptly stands. She has to leave now. She’s going to cry, can feel the tears rising and extinguishing the last spark of resilience in her, and she…he doesn’t need to feel responsible for those, and he’s exactly the sort that would.

“I see. Well. Thank ye for yer honesty. If…—excuse me.” She turns on her heel and fights the urge to run, back ramrod straight as she navigates around the chaise lounge to leave the room. (Skirts really do make movement impossible, don’t they?)

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