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linasofia · 3 years ago

Text

Seven

Fandom: The Man from Rome

Relationship: Father Quart x Female reader

Summary: A year after the events in ”Penance”, Father Quart finds himself once again facing the woman he can’t erase from his memory. The emotional struggle takes a new path when another threat appears and he learns what lurks in the depths of his character.

Warnings: ⚠️ Please don’t read this if the thought of a priest breaking his vow of celibacy might offend you. Smut, unprotected intercourse & emotional suffering.

A/N: Father Quart’s POV. ”Seven” is the sequel to my first fic about Father Quart. You can read ”Penance” here.

@lathalea & @laurfilijames I’m so grateful for all your feedback!! ❤️❤️❤️

Pride

Sundays, he thought, are always equally exciting and energy-draining. Those were the days where he, like a steady shepherd, herded his own motley flock of sinners, carefully guiding them through his sermon, joining them in prayers and singing praise to The Lord. As His servant he often received other people's respect and admiration. More often than he could count did he get the upper hand simply by wearing the clergy collar. It gave him power, status and attention. People rarely disputed his opinions and as a proud disciple of God and The Holy Father, he never questioned the benefits of his position.

He especially loved Sundays and he guarded his morning routine on this precious day. For years it has always been the same. He woke up early, went for a run to clear his head and fuel his strong body with the energy that always followed, then enjoyed a good breakfast and left for church. Father Quart believed in taking care of the body he was given. He needed strength, both physically and mentaly for doing what he was doing. Yes, his calling overpowered his doubts constantly, but he was not totally unaffected by influences. Like her.

That woman, whose scent he spent so many nights trying to forget, but only had to close his eyes to summon. Memories of her faint perfume always made his heart beat faster and he sighed heavily when he forced his eyes open. He didn’t want to remember how soft her skin felt under his fingers when he trailed the curves of her body. Or how her smile almost crushed his final post of defense the last time they met. Which was also the last time he saw her smile.

She would often come to mass, almost every Sunday, and she would hide in the back pews. Always with her head lowered as if in worshipful prayer but he knew better; she didn’t want to look at him. She was there for his blessings, nothing more. The first time her eyes accidentally fell on him, they held the look of a frightened and hurt animal, and it disturbed him greatly. He had thought she would come seeking him out again long ago and when she didn't his ego took a hit, although he would deny it until his last breath. But he believed she would eventually come knocking on his door, begging him. He just needed to be patient.

”It’s been over a year,” he thought as he draped himself in the purple chasuble. ”She is strong.”

Envy

The heavy scent of wax filled his nostrils when he slowly walked up to the altar. Celebrating advent called for even more beautifully handcrafted candles than usual and their flames burned steadily in the candelabras. The pews were filled to the last seat and chairs had been brought out to support the larger gathering. Father Quart reached his destination, crossed himself and worshipfully kissed the altar. This was his moment.

As he turned to the waiting audience his eyes fell on the red dress tightly hugging the body seated in the front pew. Unable to avert his gaze, he followed the familiar curves and continued over the exposed neck, the soft lips and finally he met her eyes. She stared back at him and for a second he forgot what he was doing. She was there, right in front of him. And she looked gorgeous. With a deep breath he forced himself to break eye contact and regain control of himself and the situation. He was pleased. She was no longer hiding in the back. Something had changed and he was certain that she wanted him to notice her. And he sure did.

It was not until he was halfway through his sermon that he noticed the discrete move from the man seated next to her. The man leaned into her, the most perfect cut ruby Father Quart had ever seen and he could clearly see his lips moving. She turned to him and smiled. A warm smile. Not a smile you give a stranger you meet once in church, but a knowing and familiar smile. The realization made him accidentally skip a whole paragraph in his sermon. She knew this man. And her smile told him all he needed to know. For he had seen that smile on her face before.

A cold unpleasant feeling crawled over his neck, down his chest and with a sharp punch it penetrated his lonely heart. The bitter taste of envy filled his mouth. He could not afford to get distracted so he purposefully moved away as far from her as he could and continued. When it was time for him to introduce today's guest, the vocal prodigy he had the pleasure to hear singing just weeks ago, he glanced at her again. She looked calm, happy…and breathtaking. Father Quart took a seat just as the first tones of ”O Holy Night” tentatively seeped from the organ.

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining It is the night of the dear Savior's birth! Long lay the world in sin and error pining Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth. A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

The young man’s voice was strong but surprisingly tender and filled the church with its warm embrace. From his seat Father Quart could look right at her without the risk of losing track. She watched the singer intensively and moved her lips as if she was singing along. Her lips. He had tried to forget how they felt but here he was, admiring them and letting the memories flood him. As the singer refilled his lungs to deliver the well known chorus, she suddenly looked him right in the eyes.

Fall on your knees Oh hear the angel voices

The words filled him with a new meaning and a bolt of heat spread in his core. He held her gaze steadily, fully aware that someone might see it, but the thrill that caused his skin to tingle made it worth the risk. She bit down on her lower lip and the move made him raise a questioning eyebrow. A small smile spread over her alluring lips as she lowered her gaze.

Beside her the man leaned in again and the blush that followed on her cheeks made Father Quart clench his fist. What did he say to her in order to get that reaction? He recognized him as one of those who weren’t regulars but visited church often enough to be remembered. What was she doing with that man? The way this man looked at his ruby made the blood boil in his veins. But she was not his to claim, he reminded himself. He looked at the man again and tried to see him through her eyes. He was a decent looking guy with blond hair that he casually drew his hand through. He wore a stubble that made him look rougher and he had mischievous eyes. Father Quart guessed the man was in his forties.

The music came to an end and as the last tones faded it was time for him to stand up and continue. He took a deep breath, ordered his brain to focus on the task at hand and without further mistakes he finished the sermon.

After giving The Dismissal, Father Quart stayed and thanked some of the most frequent visitors and as the pews started to empty he watched people gather their belongings and leave. The red dress was a sharp contrast and he could not resist the sight of her. So he watched her leave, secretly admiring the view. The bitterness hit him hard when he saw the blond man walking beside her. He had no doubts, they left together and this man was very likely the one who kept her warm during the cold nights.

Sloth

”Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been over two years since my last confession.” The hesitating voice belonged to a man he had not heard before, but something in his tone made Father Quart tense. When he was younger, during his first years of service, he was sometimes shocked by people's confessions. Now he had heard it all, more times than he could count. It allowed him to put his own emotions aside and only focus on the person waiting on the other side of the partition. ”I’m listening.” He simply offered.

The man began to tell him how he met a wonderful, lively woman here in church of all places. How they went for a coffee and became friends. Friends evolved to lovers and he let Father Quart understand that she made him feel alive. There was only one problem. His wife. He lived a very comfortable life. His wife came from a wealthy family, and as long as they were married he would benefit from it and he was not willing to give up the luxury he now took for granted. She had no interest in going to church since she didn’t share his faith. So for him, it was the perfect excuse to get away from home. Father Quart was silent. The man before him needed no help in confessing his sins.

”Last Sunday we came here together. It was wrong, but we both wanted to participate. She wore a stunning red dress and I’m sorry Father, but all I could think of during the sermon was ripping it off her body.” He went silent.

The red dress. Father Quart felt the blood leave his face. It could only mean one thing. His ruby. Without even noticing he clenched his fist so hard his well-kept nails left marks in his palm.

”This woman you speak of, does she know? About your wife?” His voice sounded more stern than he intended.

”No,” the man answered frankly, ”I told her I’m single.”

Father Quart fought the adrenaline rushing through his body. He tried to ignore the sudden urge to throw the man out of the confessional. This was part of his profession, but with only a few words, this stranger had made it very personal. A well sealed feeling struggled in his chest, fighting for freedom and igniting the slumbering temper that he spent years to control. It was not until the door to the confessional closed he allowed the roaring anger to consume him.

Wrath

Sleep wouldn’t come easily that night. He couldn’t stop thinking of the words uttered to him during that piece of shit’s confession. Why didn’t she see him for what he was? An unfaithful husband cheating on his wife, too lazy to leave her and start over. And with the one woman Father Quart could not stop thinking of. He knew he was not thinking rationally now, this was not the way of the Lord. But he could not help it. His emotions raged on the inside, clouded his judgment and mixed with feelings of loneliness that ate at him from inside.

Why was she so blind? The walls in his bedroom seemed to close in on him. Why had she come to church dressed like that? To tease him, when she knew she had a lover by her side? The thought hurt him more than anything else. Had she enjoyed the looks he gave her? Was it part of a game? To make him suffer? Was it her revenge? The word darkened his thoughts.

Penance. A voice in his head seductively whispered. That’s what she needs. Punishment.

The memories of her soft skin reddened by his hand filled his vision. She had liked it back then. He was not sure she would so willingly let him punish her now.

Gluttony

He was surrounded by darkness. Black as the sea during a cold winter night. But far away he could see a small light, it shone brightly and welcomely, and the air around him was filled with a comforting smell of flowers. He walked against the light without even the slightest hesitation, for she was calling him like a siren. He knew he was walking to his doom but it didn’t matter to him. When he stepped into the calming light he finally saw her. She was dressed in a thin white dress and when he got closer the soft fabric fell to the floor, revealing her naked body. Her hair framed her beautiful face and her eyes gleamed in the warm light.

“Welcome Father,” she said. “Please accept my body as a token of my devotion.” She placed her hand on his chest and he realized he was also naked. And above all other things, he was starving. He watched her as she confidently walked across the floor to the big oak table set for two.

“You must be hungry,” she looked at him and licked her red lips, “would you like something to eat?” The way she said it sounded sinful to him, like she meant something else. And yet her lips formed an innocent smile that sparked the flame in him. In a few hasty steps he was in front of her, pulling her into her arms and kissing her deeply.

“Yes, I want you.” he panted as he broke the kiss.

“I’m all yours,” she answered with an inviting tone. “Please… devour me.”

He crashed against her plump lips again, drawing the soft music of her moans into his own mouth. Her sounds gave him life and they were essential for his survival, he concluded. She pushed her warm body against his and the feeling of her silky skin made him groan. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her waist when he lifted her up on the table. Her thighs parted with the help of his body, preventing her from closing her legs. He moved his hands to her thighs and with a demanding grip he pushed her legs further apart. A gasp slipped from her lips and he knew she was lost. He placed a hand on her chest and the other on her back, supporting her as he pushed her down against the wooden surface

“Lie down for me, I will indeed devour you.”

Out of a thousand women, he thought, he could easily pick her scent. No one could smell as alluring as she did when she was aroused. The scent was all over her delicate skin, causing his head to spin and teasing his appetite, making him a slave of his own hunger. He was a starving man and she tasted like the finest, sweet honey.

When the sound of his high pitched alarm suddenly tore her from him and her taste lingered on his lips, Father Quart opened his eyes and for the first time in ages he cursed himself for his mind's obsession.

Greed

She had felt so incredibly real. Her warm skin under his hands, those longing lips and the way he had savored her body. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself just a few more minutes with the memories. It was plain torture, he knew that, but he needed to be with her. Minutes turned to an hour in the blink of an eye and when he no longer could ignore his duties, he rose from the sweaty bed sheets and went to take a cold shower. As the icy water poured down his back, his mind became clearer and the throbbing feeling in his lower body eventually vanished. Only then did he turn on the heated water and proceeded to wash himself.

Time was crucial, so he dressed quickly and when he had snapped the collar in place, he looked in the mirror. He let out a sigh of relief, seeing no visual evidence of his lack of sleep or the sinful dream that caused him to make a mess out of his bed.

For the first time in years he had skipped his morning run. He thought of the meaning of this during his brisk walk to church. The cold weather held the city in its tight grip and white smoke surrounded him with every breath he took. On this particular day he had chosen her over his routine. It felt strange to him, like he had given something of himself that he was not prepared to sacrifice. An unexpected possessive feeling erupted in his chest when his mind drifted to the confession he had heard the previous day.

”She is not his, she belongs to me” he murmured darkly to himself as he walked up the steps and entered church.

A few hours later the great line of the faithfuls seemed longer than usual as they came up for communion, an endless stream of friendly faces bowing respectfully and mumbling their “Amen” when receiving the Eucharist. Father Quart felt a tingling sensation in his body, like a foreboding that something important was about to come and when he expanded his vision to include more than just the person standing right in front of him, he saw her waiting patiently for her turn. His heart picked up speed as she drew closer with a timid expression on her beautiful face. Unable to control his treacherous self, a single thought crossed his mind.

”I’ll pay the price for her divine body with my soul, if necessary.”

Her eyes shone with a warm light as he purposefully presented her with the Body of Christ. He held her gaze steadily and when she parted her lips he carefully placed the wafer on her tongue. A shiver went down his spine. How he wanted to run his fingers over her soft lips in that moment, bending down and catching her lower lip between his teeth. Pulling it until she moaned her seductive sounds that could only be stopped by him covering her mouth with his. He knew perfectly well how wrong his thoughts were but he could not prevent himself from doing what he did next.

“I must speak to you.” he murmured and searched her eyes for a sign that she heard and accepted what he said. A small nod and her “Amen” followed and he let out a sigh. He was about to fall even deeper into this bottomless sea of sins and the realization only increased the uncomfortable feeling of his damp shirt clinging to his body under the layers of heavy fabrics.

Communion service came to an end and while some visitors stayed for a silent prayer, others stood up and left. He positioned himself in a way that she could clearly see him but ensured he was far enough away from anyone with a taste for eavesdropping.

After what felt like an eternity she finally approached him.

“Father,” she greeted him respectfully and a storm of emotions welled over him. He was pleased that she acknowledged and greeted him as a priest, but he longed for her to look at him as the man she knew he was under his protective chasuble.

“Y/N,” he answered softly, desperately controlling his voice to not rush into what he needed to say. He shifted on his feet, feeling like a soldier stepping into unknown terrain, where every step can mean the end of life. She stood still and waited silently, clearly expecting him to speak first, not wanting to make this easy for him.

“How are you?" he asked in an attempt to settle the nerves that felt like they were crawling on the outside of his skin, creating painful patterns all over his body.

“I’m well, thank you for asking, Father.” Her voice was so even, and she gave him nothing in return.

He took a deep breath. There was no right way of saying what he had on his mind. Whatever he said would reveal that he broke his vow and in addition went against the church and the sacred trust given during confession.

“Y/N, are you happy?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “I know you are seeing someone, I saw you. Do you trust him?”

“My personal life is no longer your business.” Her eyes shifted and in them he saw a shadow of pain.

“Do you trust him, Y/N?” he repeated. His voice sounded unnecessarily stern and he regretted it the second the words were out. But there was no turning back now, only forward mattered.

“Yes, of course I trust him.” Something in her voice made him pause. Was that a hint of disbelief?

”You must believe me when I say that he is not the same man that he pretends to be.” He felt frustration infiltrating his voice, making it harsh.

”I fail to see why this is any of your concern,” she answered coldly and stared back at him. A small trembling in her lower lip made him hold back and swallow the rest of his words. ”This is enough,” his brain firmly stated, ”don’t push further, not now.”

”I care about you, Y/N. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Somehow he succeeded in softening his voice, and gave her a faint smile.

“A little late for that,” she murmured and let her gaze wander away from him. He could see her take a deep breath to steady herself. “I need to go now.”

Something unspoken hung in the air when she quickly left and he listened to her fast steps gently echoing as she walked away from him. He let out a heavy sigh. Once again he had acted out of impulse, a different side of his character revealing itself and now it was up to her to trust him or throw away what he had just said.

Lust

The following week came to be the longest in Father Quart’s life. Not only did he spend an enormous amount of time thinking of different scenarios where she was the center of his attention, but he also developed a problem with insomnia. And when he did manage to sleep, his dreams proved to be more sufferable than anything. Sometimes she was in his arms, but more often he watched her from afar together with that man, laughing with her eyes filled with love. It was tourture, but there was no way he could stop it. Prayers did nothing to ease his mind and when another Sunday morning finally came, he questioned himself. Had he done the right thing? Was this his punishment for breaking the confidence given to him?

He needed to speak to her again as soon as possible, he thought as he left his office and pulled on his mask of duty, hiding all emotions behind it to display only the calmness suited for a man of the Church. It was time to work.

Father Quart closed the apartment door behind him upon returning home, and the facade he held up the whole day cracked like a thin layer of ice under a heavy boot. He felt angry, hurt, betrayed, but above all disappointed with himself for allowing these feelings to run freely through his usually controlled mind. She didn’t come. For the last year she had been there every Sunday, but today she was not. His heart battled in his chest and eventually he could not keep his thoughts from going in a devastating direction. She was with him. Jealousy crashed over him and he slammed his fist into the wall. The pain from the impact traveled all the way up to his shoulder, but it felt good. The reflection in the mirror caught his attention. He looked nothing like himself. His eyes were black and they reminded him of the pond in the dark forest he was afraid of as a child. ”If it wasn’t for the collar…” he thought as he pulled the white piece out, but a silent knock on his door interrupted him. He cursed for the second time that day, placed the collar on the side table and took a deep breath to control himself before opening the door.

”Y/N,” he gasped, uncertain if this was another trick by his diabolic brain. He blinked. She didn’t disappear in a cloud of smoke, she still stood in front of him. Beautiful as the dawn with her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.

”Hi,” she said tentatively. When he didn’t respond a nervous smile crossed her lips. ”Maybe this was a terrible idea. Forgive me Father, I should not have come here.” She turned to leave and finally his brain recovered from the shock.

”Please,” he said in a hurried voice, ”come inside.”

When she walked past him and he closed the door behind her, he felt his hand tremble. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and watched him. He hoped that she didn’t see that same person who just seconds ago glared back at him in the mirror.

“You were right,” she said slowly, “I didn’t want to see it, but deep inside I knew something wasn’t right. Thank you, for making me see things clearer.” He nodded silently.

”I tried to move on. Tried to forget about what happened between us.” Her voice sounded shaky but she continued. ”I even tried to forget your name…Lorenzo.” The way his name sounded coming from her mouth made him close the distance between them. He lifted his hand and carefully stroked her chin and let his thumb follow the curve of her lips.

”Say it again,” he begged with his voice filled with longing. Hope rose in her eyes as she whispered his name again. It sounded honest, pure and seductive. She leaned into his hand and her soft skin against his fingers made his heart skip a beat.

”I can’t stop thinking of you.” The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. She looked back at him with moist eyes and he felt his heart ache for her. He let his hand travel to the back of her neck and then he bent down to kiss her. Her lips tasted just as sweet as he remembered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her close to him with a groan. The sweet noise she made when he unwrapped her scarf only fueled his needs and he pressed his lips against her now exposed neck. Her scent almost knocked him over as he inhaled the wonderful combination of her perfume and warm skin. She didn’t wait for him as she pulled off her jacket and left it on the floor. He drew a hoarse moan from her as he sunk his teeth into her neck and he smiled against her wet skin. She still liked his rough treatment. Without a word he lifted her up, held her close to his chest and as he carried her, he enjoyed the warmth that spread deep inside him. He put her down on the soft carpet in his bedroom and kissed her tenderly.

“I never thought I would see you here again.”

“I never really gave up hope on you. Does it make me… bad?”

“Yes,” he gave her a sly smile, “it makes you a very bad girl”

That lovely blush on her cheeks was back, how he had longed to see her looking like that. Looking at him like that. He took her wrist in a firm grip and kissed the smooth skin on the inside. Then he gently placed her hand over his shirt’s hidden buttons. He could see the hesitating look in her eyes and squeezed her hand.

“It’s ok. Do it.”

“Are you sure?” She whispered. He simply nodded and let his eyes speak to her in their own way. She swallowed hard and he smiled encouragingly at the unfamiliar feeling of someone else's fingers opening the buttons. With each button her touch grew bolder and when the shirt was finally open, she pulled it from his body like she was uncovering a great statue for the exhibition of the century. He felt relieved. She wasn’t allowed to touch his collar, but to him, this was a monumental step. He reached for her and tugged at her top, lifted it over her head and tossed it on his chair. Her pants followed along with the rest of the fabric on her body. With a determined smile she returned the favor and as a silent appreciation he covered her lips with his and his tongue greedly asked her to dance with him again.

He gasped for air when he pulled her down on the bed and skillfully positioned himself under her. When she straddled his body and leaned forward over him, a lock of hair fell down over her face. She looked absolutely divine like this, he thought happily. Her pupils widened by the feeling of his hardness against her and she gave a moan when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her chest hard against his. She tried to move, but he held her in place.

“You are so eager and I love that. Believe me, I want this just as bad as you.” he rasped in her ear. He let his hands caress her lower back and she moaned when his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of her behind. Slowly he ran a finger over her slickness and she shivered against him. She was so responsive to his touch and it felt heavenly to hold her naked body again. He tilted his hips and the small movement made her plead in a sinful tone that caused his lower body to throb, just as it had done that morning. Only this time he didn’t need to close his eyes to remember her. She was right there, warm, slick and needy. He could feel her arousal on his own skin and when his fingers clasped on either side of her waist and held her tantalizingly close to what she seemed too long for, she whined desperately. How he loved that sound; it was feral, honest and destroyed every possibility of self control. With a throaty groan he pulled her down over him and she hissed. He could feel how he stretched her and gave her a moment to adjust.

“Lorenzo,” she purred, “the things I would let you do to me…” He held her waist tightly and supported her when she shifted teasingly. Her words sparked his dark hunger and he grinned at her. The way she moved her hips made him see stars and when she found her sensual rhythm, he could only pray that he would last long enough.

Her body moved with resolute elegance and soon a thin layer of sweat made her glitter in the warm light from the lamp on his nightstand. He watched her beautiful expressive eyes as she drove both of them closer to revelation. Her fingers dug into his shoulder and her panting became shorter, harder and when she closed her eyes he could feel her approaching climax.

”Y/N,” he demanded, ”look at me, I want to see what you feel. Show me!” She met his gaze and with a cry she unleashed the untamed fire inside her. When she finally clenched around him he followed her, giving her everything he had to give and as her exhausted body collapsed on top of him, he hugged her affectionately. She buried her face against the side of his neck and gave his stubble a soft kiss. It felt so good, so right to have her snuggle him and it filled his heart with a new type of desire. When she eventually came to rest beside him he pulled his duvet over both of them and protectively held her close. The moment felt loaded, they both seemed to recall that tearing moment a year ago where she left him with tears running down her still flushed cheeks. He closed his eyes and savored the moment. And waited.

”What happens now?” Her voice held a small tremble but she seemed determined to get an answer to the, until now, unspoken question.

”I don’t know,” he answered honestly. She stiffened in his arms and he could feel her taking a deep breath. Inside his chest, his heart roared at him. He sighed but tightened his hold of her. ”I don’t have all the answers. But I care for you, deeply. More than I’m allowed to.”

When he heard her sob quietly he placed a tender kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair. He wanted her to feel safe. To trust him, even if he didn’t trust himself. Hoping that she would understand what he was trying to say, he softly murmured, ”There must be a way.”

Did you like it? Please like, comment or/and reblog!

Tagging just a few people who might be interested

@lathalea @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @middleearthpixie @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @legolasbadass @legolaslovely @kibleedibleedoo @myselfandfantasy

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

#father quart #richard armitage #father quart x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #the man from rome #the seville communion #smut #struggle #emotions #o holy night #7 deadly sins #father lorenzo quart #lorenzo quart #father quart fic #father quart fanfiction

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meandrichard · 3 years ago

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That looks like a soutane

Oooh. Roman-style cassock? I wouldn’t mind seeing him in the cape, either.Although I guess Father Quart wears a suit.

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#Lorenzo Quart #Richard Armitage #The Seville Communion #Twitter

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moodyhedgie · 5 years ago

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Happy BirthDay mr.Armitage!

#richard armitage #lorenzo quart #birthday #fan artwork #digital art

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nellindreams · 6 years ago

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My edit

#richard armitage #Lorenzo Quart #The Seville communion #The man from Rome #wishful thinking

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years ago

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Jealousy.

Masterlist of this series

Comments/Notes/Housekeeping: Thank you to everyone who reblogged and commented on my last of the RA Character Headcanon Series. I appreciate it very much. I know I sound like a broken record, but please do consider a reblog if you like a post, and if you wish to be added on to my tag lists, please let me know. You are also very welcome to request head canons as well, so I can continue on with this series and open it up to a lot more scenarios.

This head canon post was requested by @sunflwrnsunnieshine Thank you very much, hun. You're very welcome to request head canons with these 9 characters. Just send the request via my ask box, please. This instalment will focus on how all the characters handle jealousy, more precisely, jealousy which involves you, the reader. Enjoy!

GUY OF GISBORNE: Guy does not handle jealousy at all well when it comes to other men flirting with you. He makes his complete and utter distain known to the other man, and even becomes threatening. Most people are scared of Guy, so the men back off as soon as they see his icy glare from across a room. You know that Guy's jealousy comes from a place of insecurity, so you need to remind him regularly that you only have eyes for him.

RAY LEVINE: Ray Levine holds a lot of his emotions inward and will become distant with you if he feels there may be any kind of hint of another man sniffing around you. His answers become clipped and short, and it's up to you to question him thoroughly to see exactly why his mood has changed. However, when you reassure him that you're his, he apologises profusely.

FATHER LORENZO QUART: Father Quart is not a jealous man, but when it comes to you, jealousy is not something he is immune to. He holds it inward and tries his best to push the thoughts away as to not fall into bitterness. You notice his behaviour (of extra glances and sighs when the other man is in the room) and bring it up with him, and he admits that he did feel jealous and apologises, knowing he trusts you implicitly.

THORIN OAKENSHIELD: If Thorin sees another man making advances towards you, you immediately see a change in the Dwarf's demeanour. He becomes quite passive aggressive, giving short answers and appearing a little hostile. But when you get to the bottom of his negative feelings and reassure him with plenty of touch and love-filled words, he apologises to you. He is scared to lose you.

FRANCIS DOLARHYDE: Francis will watch you and the other man, not acting physically on his jealousy. However, he begins mentally plotting ways to harm the man, enjoying the thought of causing pain to him. Francis even admits to you that he had bad thoughts and considered violence, but then begs you to forgive him.

JOHN THORNTON: John Thornton becomes quiet and distant, backing off as soon as he feels in any way threatened by another man sniffing around you. The normally brooding man becomes even more cold toward you, hinting at his jealousy through hints in his words, mentioning the man in conversation. Eventually you sit him down and talk it through with him that nothing will ever happen between you and the other man.

RAYMOND DE MERVILLE: Raymond will not entertain the idea of another man serenading you. In fact, he is quite happy to threaten men and even become violent. Any man who only looks at you for a few seconds too long and they're immediately found on the sharp end of Raymond's sword.

JOHN PORTER: John tries to down play his jealousy and won't talk about it, until you bring it up to him. If he notices you interacting with another man, he will distance himself a little, but you notice him still sneaking glances to see what's going on. Eventually you have to confront John and tell him that he's stupid to think you'd even consider any other man but him as you've fancied him for as long as you've known him.

LUCAS NORTH: Lucas doesn't like to show vulnerability at first, so his jealous behaviour will depend on how long you've been with him and the stage you're at in your relationship. Any initial stage, weeks to a couple of months, and Lucas will try his hardest to not think too much about it. However, the longer you are with him, then the more his jealousy will show. It becomes clipped words, the cold shoulder and icy stares at you and the other man from across a busy room.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @knittastically @guardianofrivendell @luna-xial @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @asgardianhobbit98 @meganlpie @eunoiaastralwings @sunflwrnsunnieshine @tschrist1 @quiall321 @lemond57 @missihart23 @evenstaredits

Guy of Gisborne tag list: @puggledy-huggledy-is-not-a-pig @whoooooisthis

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @braidedheart

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louk419 · 9 months ago

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For those who observe this holiday (and those who don't!) Happy Easter Sunday Sunnies 😎 from our favorite priest, Father Lorenzo Quart.

#richard armitage #Easter #easter sunday #the man from rome #lorenzo quart #Sunday Sunnies

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ao3feed-tolkien · 2 years ago

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Forbidden Passion

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/esnBVco

by KiriAsakura

Father Lorenzo Quart visits the Holy Land to renew his vows as a priest, to reaffirm his commitment to God, and to purify his soul after the sinful incidents that occurred a year ago during his mission in Seville. During his pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulcher, he meets a strange and enigmatic blonde named Thomas on Palm Sunday, who has fallen in love with him from the first moment, and who does not miss the opportunity to flirt with him. Quart will not be able to avoid mutual attraction in such a sacred place, but will he fall into temptation again?

Words: 10718, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 33 of Modern Thilbo/Richartin Couples

Fandoms: The Hobbit RPF, La piel del tambor | The Man From Rome (2022), The Operative (2019), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Lorenzo Quart, Thomas Ehud Freeman, Father Quart, Richard Armitage, Martin Freeman

Relationships: Richard Armitage/Martin Freeman, Richard Armitage & Martin Freeman, Lorenzo Quart/Thomas Ehud, Father Quart/Thomas, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield

Additional Tags: Forbidden Love, Forbidden, Male Homosexuality, Homosexuality, Churches & Cathedrals, Holy Land, Jerusalem, Holy Week, Priests, Catholicism, Catholic Character, Catholic, Roman Catholicism, Catholic Prayers, Judaism, Jewish Character, Jewish Holidays, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Jewish Identity, Sins, Seduction, Attempted Seduction, Flirting, Gay, Gay Character

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/esnBVco

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

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ao3feed-thehobbit · 2 years ago

Text

Forbidden Passion

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Ut7Zh3y

by KiriAsakura

Father Lorenzo Quart visits the Holy Land to renew his vows as a priest, to reaffirm his commitment to God, and to purify his soul after the sinful incidents that occurred a year ago during his mission in Seville. During his pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, he meets a strange and enigmatic blond named Thomas on Palm Sunday, who has fallen in love with him from the first moment, and who does not miss the opportunity to flirt with him. Quart will not be able to avoid mutual attraction in such a sacred place, but will he fall into temptation again?

Words: 10718, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 33 of Modern Thilbo/Richartin Couples

Fandoms: The Hobbit RPF, La piel del tambor | The Man From Rome (2022), The Operative (2019), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Lorenzo Quart, Thomas Ehud Freeman, Father Quart, Richard Armitage, Martin Freeman

Relationships: Richard Armitage/Martin Freeman, Richard Armitage & Martin Freeman, Lorenzo Quart/Thomas Ehud, Father Quart/Thomas, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Ut7Zh3y

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the hobbit

0 notes

lathalea · 3 years ago

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Armitage Summer Splash – Week 2

Here are the prompts for the second week of this event already now so you'll have some time to get some inspiration!

🏖 How does the Armitage Summer Splash work? - Here is the masterpost.

This post contains both prompts for the second week and all the works we all created this week. Don't forget to fill in the form on after you finished working on this week's prompts so we can add your fics/art to our masterlist.

We'll be on the lookout for your RA-inspired creations for Week 2 starting June 8th! 🍹

💦 Armitage Summer Splash 💦 Week 2 Prompts/Masterlist:

☀️ June 8th

Trope: A secret is found out Quote: “Show me your face.”

📜 Adam Price - Secret by Fizzyxcustard

📜 Father Lorenzo Quart - Our Secret by Linasofia

📜 Guy of Gisborne - The Tavern by MiddleEarthPixie

📜 Guy of Gisborne Moodboard by Aduialel

📜 John Thornton - Horrors & Pleasures by Dumbassunderthemountain

📜 John Thornton - A Secret Is Found Out Moodboard by Sweetestgbye

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Eina's Secret by Legolasbadass

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - The Tinderbox by Lathalea

* * * * *

☀️ June 9th

Trope: Coffee shop Quote: “You’ve never cared about me. Only yourself.” 📜 John Porter - Never Together by Linasofia

📜 John Proctor - Brewster's Place by MiddleEarthPixie

📜 Ray Levine - You've Never Cared About Me by Fizzyxcustard

📜 Ray Levine - Unrequited Moodboard by Lathalea

📜 Ray Levine Moodboard by Sweetestgbye

📜 Ricky Deeming - Coffee Shop by Linasofia

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - After Hours by Mismaeve

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Coffee Shop Moodboard by Aduialel

* * * * *

☀️ June 10th

Trope: Kidnapped Quote: “You always told me that you’d never hurt me.”

📜 Guy of Gisborne - Coming Home by Dumbassunderthemountain

📜 Guy of Gisborne Moodboard by Sweetestgbye

📜 Lucas North - Kidnapped by Fizzyxcustard

📜 Ray Levine - Kidnapped by Broken Lycan

📜 Raymond de Merville - Runaway by MiddleEarthPixie

📜 Raymond de Merville - Kidnapped by Linasofia

📜 Raymond de Merville - Kidnapped by Aduialel

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - The Heart of the Mountain Moodboard by Lathalea

* * * * *

☀️ June 11th

Trope: Crossover Quote: “I could stay like this forever.” 📜 John Thornton - Modern AU by Sweetestgbye

📜 Scott White - Only Forever by Fizzyxcustart

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Among the Stars by Linasofia

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Battle Wounds by Dumbassunderthemountain

📜 Thorin Oakenshield, Ray Levine - Middle Earth's Next Top Model by MiddleEarthPixie

📜 Thorin Oakenshield Crossover Moodboard by Aduialel

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - The Crossover by Lathalea

📜 Thorin Oakenshield, Raymond de Merville - Bunnele by Linasofia

* * * * *

☀️ June 12th

Trope: Oblivious of feelings Quote: “How dare you!”

📜 Guy of Gisborne - The Assasin and the Deputy by Dumbassunderthemountain

📜 John Proctor Moodboard by Sweetestgbye

📜 Raymond de Merville - Oblivious by Fizzyxcustard

📜 Raymond de Merville Moodboard by Sweetestgbye

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Catch Me If You Can Moodboard by Lathalea

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Stolen Moments by MiddeEarthPixie

📜 Thorin Oakenshield and Raymond de Merville - Bunnele by Linasofia

* * * * *

☀️ June 13th

Trope: Comfort Quote: “It was the best day of my life.”

📜 Guy of Gisborne - Comfort by Fizzyxcustard

📜 John Porter - Waiting by MiddleEarthPixie

📜 John Proctor Moodboard by Sweetestgbye

📜 John Thornton Moodboard by Linasofia

📜 John Thornton - Bridal Tour by Dumbassunderthemountain

📜 John Thornton - Comfort Moodboard by Losteainfalls

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - The Best Day of My Life by Lathalea

* * * * *

☀️ June 14th

Trope: Lies Quote: “I wish I could go back.”

📜 Lucas North - Hurt by MiddleEarthPixie

📜 Lucas North - Lies by Fizzyxcustard

📜 Raymond de Merville Moodboard by Sweetestgbye

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Campfire Antics by Dumbassunderthemountain

📜 Thorin Oakenshield - Lies & Regret Moodboard by Lathalea

📜 Thorin Oakenshield Moodboard by Linasofia

📜 Moodboard Masterlist by Lostrainfalls (aka Shalinizhara) 📜

* * * * *

Happy reading! 🍹

Armitage Summer Splash masterlists:

💦 WEEK 1 | WEEK 2 | WEEK 3 | WEEK 4 | WEEK 5

Please let us know if you’d like to be added/removed from the taglist: @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @legolasbadass @linasofia @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @sketch-and-write-lover @dumbassunderthemountain @enchantzz @justfollowtheroad @thewarriorandtheking @guylty @knitastically @guylty @mezzmerizedbyrichard @jassy2101 @sweetestgbye @shrimpsthings @estethell @guardianofrivendell @nfcomics

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themedicalstate · 4 years ago

Video

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The Coronavirus Unveiled

Video: An atom-by-atom model of the coronavirus. Lorenzo Casalino, Amaro Lab, U.C. San Diego.

In February, as the new coronavirus swept across China and shut down entire cities, a scientist named Sai Li set out to paint its portrait.

At the time, the best pictures anyone had managed to take were low-resolution images, in which the virus looked like a barely discernible smudge.

Dr. Li, a structural biologist at Tsinghua University in Beijing, joined forces with virologists who were rearing the virus in a biosafety lab in the city of Hangzhou. Those researchers doused the viruses with chemicals to render them harmless and then sent them to Dr. Li.

Dr. Li and his colleagues then concentrated the virus-laden fluid from a quart down to a single drop. He could only hope that they had done everything just right, so that the weeks of work to produce that drop would not have been a waste.

“At the time, you don’t know what’s inside,” Dr. Li said. “It’s just liquid, right?”

Glimpsing the Structure

Dr. Li carefully froze the drop in a fraction of a second. If he made the slightest mistake, ice crystals could spear the viruses, tearing them apart.

Hoping for the best, Dr. Li placed the smidgen of ice into a cryo-electron microscope. The device fired beams of electrons at the sample. As they bounced off the atoms inside, Dr. Li’s computer reconstructed what the microscope had seen. When the picture formed, he was taken aback.

“I saw a screen full of viruses,” Dr. Li recalled.

A cryo-electron tomography image of SARS-CoV-2 viruses, in gray, with a computer reconstruction of one virus. Sai Li, Tsinghua University School of Life Sciences.

He could see thousands of coronaviruses packed in the ice like jellybeans in a jar. They were beautifully intact, allowing him to inspect details on the viruses that measured less than a millionth of an inch.

“I thought, I was the first guy in the world to see the virus in such good resolution,” Dr. Li recalled.

Over the following weeks, Dr. Li and his colleagues pored over the viruses. They inspected the proteins that studded its surface and they dove into its core, where the virus’s strand of genes was coiled up with proteins. The pictures reminded Dr. Li of eggs in a nest.

A computer reconstruction overlaid on an image of several SARS-CoV-2 viruses. Sai Li, Tsinghua University School of Life Sciences.

Thanks to the work of scientists like Dr. Li, the new coronavirus, known as SARS-CoV-2, is no longer a cipher. They have come to know it in intimate, atomic detail. They’ve discovered how it uses some of its proteins to slip into cells and how its intimately twisted genes commandeer our biochemistry. They’ve observed how some viral proteins throw wrenches into our cellular factories, while others build nurseries for making new viruses. And some researchers are using supercomputers to create complete, virtual viruses that they hope to use to understand how the real viruses have spread with such devastating ease.

“This time is unlike anything any of us has experienced, just in terms of the bombardment of data,” said Rommie Amaro, a computational biologist at the University of California at San Diego.

Probing the Spike

Earlier this year, Dr. Amaro and other researchers directed much of their attention to the proteins, called spikes, that stud the virus’s surface. Spike proteins have an essential job to play: They latch onto cells in our airway so the virus can slip inside. But it soon became clear that the name is a misnomer. The spike protein is not sharp, narrow or rigid.

Each spike protein snaps together with two others, forming a structure that has a tulip-like shape. A long stem anchors the proteins to the virus, and their top looks like a three-part flower.

Gerhard Hummer, a computational biophysicist at the Max Planck Institute of Biophysics, and his colleagues used the frozen microscopy method to take pictures of spike proteins embedded in the virus membrane. Then they calculated how the atoms in the proteins pushed and pulled on each other. The result was a molecular dance: The spike proteins swivel around on three hinges.

A simulation of four spike proteins, each bending on three hinges. Sören von Bülow, Mateusz Sikora and Gerhard Hummer, Max Planck Institute of Biophysics.

“You can see these flowers waving with all kinds of bending angles,” Dr. Hummer said. “It’s quite surprising to have such a long, slender stalk with so much flexibility.”

A Sugar Shield

Dr. Hummer speculated that the flexibility of the spike was important to the virus’s success. By sweeping around, the spike increases its odds of encountering the protein on the surface of our cells it uses to attach.

As they sweep around, however, the spikes can be attacked by antibodies, the powerful soldiers of our immune system. To hide, they create a shield out of sugar. Sugar molecules, in navy below, swirl around the proteins and hide them from antibodies.

A spike protein, at left, and a protective coating of sugars, at right. Lorenzo Casalino, Amaro Lab, U.C. San Diego.

A little hook at the end of the spike protein, in light blue below, sometimes flips up above the sugar shield. If it encounters a particular protein on the surface of our cells, it sets off a series of reactions that allows the virus to fuse to a cell membrane and inject its genes.

Latching on to an ACE2 receptor, in yellow, allows the coronavirus to enter human cells. Lorenzo Casalino, Amaro Lab, U.C. San Diego.

Tangled Loops

The genes of the new coronavirus are arrayed on a molecular strand called RNA. On Jan. 10, Chinese researchers published its sequence of 30,000 letters. That genetic text stores the information required for a cell to make the virus’s proteins.

But the genome is more than a cookbook. The strand folds into a devilishly complex tangle. And that tangle is crucial for the virus’s exploitation of our cells. “You have a lot more information stored in how it’s shaped,” said Sylvi Rouskin, a structural biologist at the Whitehead Institute.

Dr. Rouskin led a team of scientists who mapped that shape. In a high-security lab at Boston University, her colleagues infected human cells with the viruses and gave them time to make thousands of new RNA strands. Tagging the genetic letters on the strands with chemicals, Dr. Rouskin and her colleagues could determine how the strand folded in on itself.

In some places it only formed short side-loops. In other places, hundreds of RNA letters ballooned out into big hoops, with loops coming off, and more loops coming off of them. By comparing millions of viral genomes, Dr. Rouskin and her colleagues discovered places where the virus slips from one shape to another.

A number of researchers are now closely examining some of these regions to figure out what they’re doing. Their studies suggest that these knots allow the virus to control our ribosomes, the tiny cellular factories that pump out proteins.

After the virus enters a human cell, our ribosomes attach to its RNA strands and glide down them like a roller coaster car running along a track. As the ribosomes pass over the genetic letters, they build proteins with corresponding structures. Scientists suspect that the loops of RNA may throw the roller coaster car off its track and then guide it to a spot thousands of positions away.

Other loops force the ribosome to back up a bit and then move forward again. This little hiccup can cause the virus to make entirely different proteins from the same stretch of RNA.

Jamming the Machinery

The viral proteins that spew out of our ribosomes fan out across the cell to carry out different tasks. One of them, called Nsp1, helps seize control of our molecule machinery.

Joseph Puglisi, a structural biologist at Stanford, and his colleagues mixed Nsp1 proteins and ribosomes together in test tubes. They found that the proteins, in pink below, slipped neatly into the channels inside the ribosomes where RNA would normally fit.

A ribosome with RNA, in blue, and with Nsp1, in pink.Christopher Lapointe, Stanford University School of Medicine. Ribosome models by Angelita Simonetti et al., Cell Reports and Matthias Thoms et al., Science.

Dr. Puglisi suspects that Nsp1 stops our cells from making proteins of their own — especially the antiviral proteins that could destroy the virus. But that raises the question of how the virus gets its own proteins made.

One possibility is that “somehow the virus is just amped up in its ability to produce protein,” Dr. Puglisi said. From time to time, Nsp1 falls out of ribosomes, and somehow the virus does a better job of taking advantage of those brief opportunities. “We hoped it was going to be something simple,” he said. “But, as usual in science, it wasn’t.”

Blobs and Droplets

While Nsp1 is manipulating ribosomes, other viral proteins are busy making new viruses. A half-dozen different proteins come together to make new copies of the virus’s RNA. But something remarkable happens along the way: Together, the proteins and RNA spontaneously turn into a droplet, akin to a blob in a lava lamp. Physicists have long known that molecules in a liquid spontaneously form droplets if the conditions are right. “This is just making salad dressing,” said Amy Gladfelter, a cell biologist at the University of North Carolina.

But only in recent years have biologists discovered that our cells regularly make droplets for their own purposes. They can bring together certain molecules in high concentrations to carry out special reactions, shutting out other molecules that can’t enter the droplets.

Richard Young, a biologist at the Whitehead Institute, and his colleagues have mixed together SARS-CoV-2 proteins that build new RNA along with RNA molecules. When the molecules assemble, they spontaneously form droplets. The virus likely gets the same benefits as the cell does from this strategy.

Given the sophistication of the coronavirus in so many other regards, Dr. Young wasn’t surprised by his discovery. “Why wouldn’t viruses exploit a property of matter?” he said.

Pores and Tunnels

Coronaviruses can coax human cells to form new chambers to house their genetic material. But when Monsterrat Barcena, a microscopist at the Leiden University Medical Center in the Netherlands, inspected those chambers, she was baffled: There seemed to be no holes in the membranes, allowing no path for the RNA to get in or out.

Recently, Dr. Barcena and her colleagues took a closer look and discovered a way through. One of the coronavirus’s proteins, called Nsp3, folds into a tunnel, which then plugs itself into the membranes.

“It’s a coronavirus escape route,” Dr. Barcena said. “We had this riddle, and now we have an answer.”

Assembling New Viruses

In a matter of hours, an infected cell can make thousands of new virus genomes. The cell’s ribosomes read their genes, spewing out even more viral proteins. Eventually, some of those proteins and the new genomes assemble themselves to make new viruses.

This is no easy task, because the coronavirus’s strand of genes is a hundred times longer than the virus itself.

Recent experiments suggest that, once again, SARS-CoV-2 uses lava-lamp physics to its advantage. Proteins called nucleocapsids glue themselves to spots along the length of the RNA strand. Together, the molecules quickly collapse into droplets.

New coronaviruses, in pink, form inside cell vesicles. Steffen Klein et al., bioRxiv.

Dr. Gladfelter speculated that this strategy prevented two strands of genes from becoming tangled with each other. As a result, each new virus winds up with just one set of genes.

These droplets are swallowed up inside viral membranes and spike proteins, and the new viruses are ready to escape the cell. To simulate these viruses down to every atom, Dr. Amaro is gathering the emerging pictures of SARS-CoV-2 proteins and RNA. She and her colleagues then construct virtual viruses on supercomputers, each consisting of a half-billion atoms. These machines can then use the laws of physics to simulate the dancing of the viruses every femtosecond: in other words, a millionth of a billionth of a second.

Dr. Amaro and her colleagues hope to use her simulated viruses to tackle one of the most contentious questions about Covid-19: how the virus spreads from person to person.

When infected people exhale, talk or cough, they release tiny drops of water laden with viruses. It’s not clear how long SARS-CoV-2 can survive in these drops. Dr. Amaro is planning to build these drops, down to their individual water molecules, on her computer. Then she’ll add viruses and watch what happens to them.

“I’m pretty confident that probably within a year, we would be able to have the whole virus, including all the bits on the inside,” she said.

Drugs and Vaccines

Already, however, the new pictures of SARS-CoV-2 have become essential for the fight against the pandemic. Vaccine developers study the virus’s structure to ensure that the antibodies made by vaccines grip tightly to the virus. Drug developers are concocting molecules that disrupt the virus by slipping into nooks and crannies of proteins and jamming their machinery.

A drug molecule, in blue, blocks the tip of the coronavirus spike. Ian Haydon, Institute for Protein Design.

The virus’s genome may offer other targets. Drugs may be able to lock onto loops and tangles to prevent the virus from controlling our ribosomes. “It’s very important that you know what the shape is, so you can develop the right chemistry to bind to that shape,” Dr. Rouskin said.

Dr. Gladfelter, meanwhile, wants to see if the physics of viral droplets may offer a new line of attack against SARS-CoV-2.

“You could get a compound that would make them stickier, make them more jelly,” she said. “There are probably a lot of Achilles’ heels.”

Future Research

While the past few months have delivered a flood of data about the virus, some studies have made it clear that it will take years to make sense of SARS-CoV-2.

Noam Stern-Ginossar and her colleagues at the Weizmann Institute in Israel, for example, have found evidence that the virus makes proteins that scientists have yet to find.

Dr. Stern-Ginossar and her colleagues surveyed the RNA of the virus in infected cells, tallying up all the ribosomes that were reading it. Some ribosomes clustered along known genes. But others were reading genes that had never been found before.

Ribosomes sometimes read just a section of the spike protein gene, for example. Presumably they make a mini-spike, which may very well carry out some essential job for the virus. A drug that disables it might cure Covid-19.

But scientists can’t even begin to guess at these possibilities, because no one has yet spotted the mini-spike in the wild. And the same will be true for the other new genes, Dr. Stern-Ginossar’s team has found.

“Each one will require additional work to figure out what they’re doing,” she said. “Biology takes time.”

By Carl Zimmer (The New York Times). Produced by Jonathan Corum.

#science #medicine #illustration #molecular biology #cellular biology #virology #academia #pharmacology #medblr

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linasofia · 2 years ago

Text

More Than Words

Fandom: The Man from Rome

Relationship: Father Lorenzo Quart x Female reader

Summary: A worried Father Quart rushes to your home after Sunday’s service. He finds you sick in bed and does his best to comfort you.

Warnings: None, it’s a fluffy comfort fic. ❤️ But please don’t read this if the thought of a priest breaking his vow of celibacy might offend you.

Words: 1,9K

The pews are packed to the last seat. The comforting smell of candle wax fills the air and the choir’s light angel-like voices rise to the beautiful painted ceiling. While they sing one of his favorite psalms, Father Quart searches among all the familiar friendly faces for that one smile that makes his heart skip a beat. The smile that belongs to the most beautiful and gracious woman he has ever met. But you are nowhere to be found, and he frowns when he recalls the promise you gave him when you parted the previous morning: “As long as I am breathing I will always come on Sundays.” Of course, he knows you do not literally mean it but it still worries him. He runs a sweaty hand discreetly over the green chasuble and lets his mind wander to your sweet smile and sparkling eyes. While the church and its parishioners have always offered him love, you have given him a deeper understanding of the word trust. He trusts you in a way he has never trusted another person before and it both fascinates and scares him. Your whole relationship rests on solid pillars of trust and your mutual secret has to be preserved if the two of you shall have a chance to continue seeing each other.

The music silences and all gazes fall expectantly on Father Quart again. Smiling at the large group of people in front of him, he dutifully proceeds with the sermon, keeping the worry he feels for you hidden. Some days he feels like a fraud, sharing his heart between the Lord and a woman. And on those days it is harder to look into the eyes of the older women in the front pew. If they only knew that he is not the flawless servant of God that they want him to be. Father Quart knows he will glance at his watch many times before he can leave today’s faithful crowd.

The steps echo in the stairwell as Father Quart hurriedly rushes up the stairs to your apartment. Without even catching his breath, he bangs on your door, a little too hard, not caring if somebody will hear it. No sound is coming from your apartment, no music or noise from the TV. He bangs again. Your car was parked in its usual spot; he noticed the white sedan as he walked briskly across the street. With a hammering heart, he pulls out his keys and quickly finds yours among all the keys he needs for work. He has never used it before and if it was not for the fact that he was seriously worried he would feel as if he was trespassing. A soft click is heard from the lock when he turns the key. He opens the door and is greeted by a dark hallway. As he silently closes the door behind him, he calls your name. He scans the area and finds your handbag resting on the stool, just as he has seen it before, and he takes a few steps before suddenly a weak cough reaches his ears. A frown deepens the fine lines on his face and he follows the sound to your bedroom with the need to hold you increasing in his chest. He stops at the doorstep, his gaze falling on your body resting in an ocean of blankets and pillows. Your name falls from his lips, this time covered in concern. When you open your eyes and meet his gaze he instantly rushes to your side.

You love how your name sounds when spoken in his dark voice. His normally authorial voice is laced with worry, but it does not take away the sensual and loving tone he always uses when addressing you. Weakly, you let your hand slip out from under the blanket and he instantly takes it and comes to sit next to you on the bed.

”How do you feel?” he asks as he places his other hand on your forehead. Your skin burnsunder his touch, and he knows before you even manage to form the words. The fever is raging in your body and drops of sweat form at your temples, like small beads on a rosary.

”Not well.” Your words cut like razors in your throat when you speak and your voice feels fragile. He bends down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead and you sigh.

”I am sorry for not coming today.”

”I wish I knew you were not feeling well. I could have come by before the service today.”

”You should not be here. What if you get what I have? You cannot be sick.”

”Do not think of it. If I do get sick, someone will cover for me. That is how it works.”

”I know, but —”

”Do not try to speak so much. You must rest. Have you eaten anything?”

You slowly shake your head. Even though you feel drained of every last drop of energy, you cannot muster the strength to take something to eat. Nothing feels appealing enough and just the thought of swallowing makes your sore throat ache. Father Quart glances at your little bedside table. A cup of tea is surrounded with paper tissues. He reaches out and places his fingertips on the cup. It is cold.

”Sweetheart, you need to eat. Or at least drink.” His fingers brush lightly over your cheek and then he strokes your hair. It is damp by your temples, and he smiles softly when he notices the corkscrew curls forming just under your ear. He has seen it before, but then your body has been soaked in sweat for a totally different reason. A much more pleasurable reason. You close your eyes and lean your head against his hand, just him being by your side fills you with more joy than you can express right now.

”I will make you something.” There is no room for protests in his voice, and you know that he is right, you need energy to fight whatever it is that is possessing your body. Father Quart does not want to leave your side so soon, but decides to go through your fridge and see what he can find. He squeezes your hand and stands up, eager to help you when you need him the most. Too tired to open your eyes again, you hear him walk out of your bedroom. The sounds from the kitchen soon reach your ears; doors open, paper bags ripped, pots banging against each other and then the characteristic sound from your espresso machine. You smile to yourself. Lorenzo likes his coffee strong and you picture him sipping on a cup of java while he waits for whatever he is making to be ready. Your mind drifts between awake and sleep and you feel grateful that you are no longer alone.

When he returns, he carries the tray your mother gave you years ago when you claimed to be missing this item in your kitchen. The pattern is brightly colored, created by a Finnish designer, and you love the tray as it always reminds you of your mother’s loving eyes. He places a large mug with steaming broth on the bedside table along with a small bowl of sliced orange and a big glass of water. Lorenzo helps you to sit up, tucks all of your pillows behind your back and adjusts them so you can sit as comfortably as possible in bed. Then, he hands you the mug with an encouraging smile. The broth smells lovely of rosemary, and you know he must have plundered your little collection of fresh herbs on the shelf by the kitchen window. Gratefully, you take the mug, and his smile widens as your fingers meet. You feel the familiar tingling in your skin even now, when fever is slowing all your senses, and before you lift the mug to your lips, you return his smile. Very carefully, you blow on the surface before taking a small sip. The broth is kind to your sore throat and its warmth spreads comfortably in your stomach. You can tell Lorenzo took time to season it well for you can actually taste it, despite your state, and his thoughtfulness never stops to amaze you. To some extent, it is expected from a man with his calling, but he often goes beyond his duties. His hand rests on the duvet and he gently squeezes your thigh through the layers of fabrics.

”How was your day?” you ask him between sips. You love listening to his deep voice, and as he tells you as much as you know he can, you feel blessed for being able to spend much more time with him than the average parishioner. He is a remarkable man, both as a priest and a lover. During the time you have been seeing each other regularly, you have never told him that you love him, but that does not diminish the feelings in your heart. Afraid it might scare him off, you do not want to push him to say it either. But you can sense his feelings in every gentle caress, see them in his eyes and hear it in the way his voice changes when he speaks to you. When he preaches about love, his gaze always lingers on you and every time your heart threatens to burst through your chest.

When the last drops of broth gather at the bottom of your mug, Lorenzo takes it and places it back on the tray. ”Do you want some pieces of orange now or shall we save them for later?” he asks while watching how your body rests against the pillows. ”Later,” you tell him softly, and when you reach to move some of the pillows he instantly comes to your aid. When you are once again laying down, he caresses your cheek.

”Do you want some company? I would love to hold you, but only if it feels alright.”

You just nod and then watch how he stands and starts to undress. With experienced fingers he removes the white clergy collar from his shirt. Then he proceeds to open the hidden buttons and as he pulls the black shirt from his shoulders, you cannot help watching his physique in awe. A smile forms on your lips. You could be dying but you would still take notice of his glorious body. Lorenzo steps out of his trousers and a part of you is almost disappointed when he keeps his black boxers on. His impressive bulge reveals that a beast is sleeping under the soft fabric. A beast you usually take great pleasure in waking, but that will have to wait for another day. Lorenzo slips under the duvet and pulls you gently towards him. He wraps an arm around your chest and hums when he finds the perfect way to rest against your body.

”Just let me know if you get too warm, ok?” he murmurs against your hair, and you smile at his question. This is what you need and you will stay in his embrace for as long as you can.

”Thank you,” you whisper as sleepiness makes your body heavy, ”for everything.”

His arm tightens in a hug and he leans over you to place a kiss at your cheek. The words he murmurs against your skin make your heart flutter and fuel your dreams; ”I will take care of you. Always.”

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