#I've been especially playing around with the idea at the end of the war | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlesparklight · 26 days ago

Text

I've been reading the thesis version of Meriel Jones' Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Greek Novel, especially the last chapter, which gave me some more meat my bones, so I've elaborated on this post (... essay..?) about effeminacy and Paris.

I. Some general points when it comes to ancient Greek culture and certain attitudes relevant to the topic of effeminacy: Moderation, first of all, was a thing the Ancient Greeks considered paramount; moderation in sex, food, drink, pleasure, clothing - you name it. Self-control and nothing too much, of anything. I think this can be reflected in Menelaos' Book 13 speech: "There is satiety in all things, even sleep and even love, and in sweet song and blameless dance […] But the Trojans are insatiate of battle." He twice juxtaposes (before and at the end of this speech) the Trojans' supposed insatiability (lack of moderation) for war with that one can have "enough" of all things, even those much sweeter than war itself.

Both men and women were supposed to show self-restraint when it came to sex; it was a virtue, and furthermore, self-restraint and moderation was part of what made a man "manly", if you will. Part of Aeschines' speech Against Timarchus argues that he has shown a lack of moderation in his behaviour in all parts of life; seeking out men (whether "unsuitable" or not) to sleep with (as the presumed receptive partner), food, indulging in hiring far too many female prostitutes; all this made him unfit for what was otherwise a male citizen's rights and responsibilities both. Women being modest and chaste were similar for them, and an extra step further than a man's "moderation". At the same time, women were considered "naturally" more sexual, having less self-control (that was why it was extra important they exercise self-restraint and being chaste), and being focused on pleasure, which leads into the connected idea that a man who does not… becomes feminized.

Something illustrated by Lucian of Samosata's A True Story, in the very first parts of it, and talked about below:

And contrary to what one might think, in general the love of boys wasn't feminising (later, it would start to gain that association) - though as always, excessive sex no matter the partner "dooms" you, and being the one taking cock is of course effeminate (because being penetrated is what women do). Instead, a too intense interest in women, whether in sex or just spending time with them, becomes feminising. Like draws to like, and if you associate too much with it, it will "taint" you. Plutarch is of course much later than the Iliad, but this bit from the Amatorius (750f forward) might work as a general illustration:

"Now if this be the passion you talk of which is to be called Love, it is a spurious and effeminate love that sends us to the women's chambers, as it were to the Cynosarges at Athens. […] thus the true genuine love is that of boys, not flaming with concupiscence, as according to Anacreon the love of maids and virgins does, neither besmeared with odoriferous ointments, nor alluring with smiles and rolling glances; […] whereas that other love, nice and effeminate, and always nestling in the bosoms and beds of women, pursuing soft pleasures, and wasted with unmanly delights, that have no gust of friendship or heavenly ravishment of mind, is to be despised and rejected of all mankind."

In fact, a man being willing to break law and convention to be with a woman he desired to such a degree he'd try to sleep with a married woman would also feminise him. Or, throwing that around, being effeminate made a man suspect of being an adulterer. For example, apparently a Syracusan law (mentioned by Phylarcus) stated that any man who paid excessive attention to his appearance and personal grooming could be identified as an adulterer or a kinaidos. So the connection between decorative appearance on a man is tied both to immoderate sexual interest in women (as well as characterising him as attractive to said women), but general sexual deviance - a kinaidos was someone who liked to be penetrated.

There's also parts of Electra's speech to Aigisthos' corpse in Euripides' Electra that are pretty illuminating (930ff): "Among all the Argives you would hear this: "That woman's husband", not "that man's wife". Although this is a shameful thing, for the wife to rule the house and not the husband[…]You were insolent because you had a king's house and were endowed with good looks. May I never have a husband with a girl's face, but one with a man's ways. For the children of the latter cling to a life of arms, while the fair ones are only an ornament in the dance."

Male beauty coupled to a lack of manliness, dance (which can have erotic, if not outright sexual, connotations) contrasted with martial ability and virtue.

II. For the Iliad specifically, Christopher Ransom in his Aspects of Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad (2011) summarises up a couple other points:

"In the Iliad, childishness and effeminacy are often referred to in order to define masculine identity. Women and children are naturally not operative in the adult male world of warfare, and so can be clearly classified as ‘other’ within the martial sphere of battlefield insults. Masculine identity cannot be formed in a vacuum, and so the feminine or the childish is posited as ‘other’ in order to define the masculine by contrast." and "Idle talk is characterised as childish or feminine, and is repeatedly juxtaposed with the masculine sphere of action." as well as "Effeminacy is linked to shame […]; if acting like a coward is a cause for shame, and prompts Menelaos to call the Achaians ‘women’, then effeminacy is seen as shameful in the context of the poem."

And while neither dancing nor sex are something that a man who engages in will become effeminate for, the former is explicitly posited as a peace-time pastime only, and sex is only to be had at the right time (and in the right amount). So, in the Iliad's (as well as the whole war) circumstances, neither of those two activities are proper to prioritise, and are at points set up in juxtaposition and contrast to war and martial effort. Additionally, physical beauty alone doesn't make a man in any way feminized - otherwise quite a few male characters would be effeminate! - and in fact, a well-born, "heroic" man will be beautiful because it befits his status. (Insert basically any big-name male character in Greek mythology here.) But, there's a limit and some caveats to this; physical beauty in a man (not a youth) must be balanced out against other "virtues", and if, in especially the context of war as in the Iliad, a man's martial ability is lacking, his handsomeness becomes a source of scorn instead, because he can't "back it up".

Here's our most notable "offenders": Nireus of Syme, who in the second book of the Iliad is called the most beautiful among the Achaeans after Achilles, but "he was weak, and few men followed him". Syme is a small island, but I don't think the "few men" here is supposed to be assumed because of a lack of numbers on the island. His beauty is all there is to him, and no one wants to follow him because he's not sufficiently (manly) able in war. Nastes and/or Amphimachus of Miletus, wearing gold in [his/their] hair "like a girl", which the narrator then calls [him/them] a fool for and that he will be stripped of those pieces of jewellery when Achilles kills him, and, again from Ransom's article; "Thus, the effeminised male, characterised by his feminine dress, is brought down by the ‘proper hero’, and the effeminate symbolically succumbs to the masculine." Euphorbus, the man who first injures Patroklos - this is an edge-case, because the text itself isn't obviously condescending or condemning Euphorbus compared to Nastes/Amphimachus. It simply describes him wearing his hair in a style of hair ornaments that pinches tresses in at the middle. But, the narrator still goes to the effort to make this extra description, not just the more general/usual mention of the hair being befouled in the dust as the man killed falls to the ground.

(In the intent of being somewhat exhaustive, two other potential edge-cases: Patroklos, who does perform some tasks at the embassy dinner in Book 9 that would usually be done by women. And it's not as if Achilles doesn't have women who could deal with the bread and similar. It's not remarked on, or marked in the text in any way, compared to the other characters previous. Menelaos, even more of an edge case when it comes to the Iliad, but like Patroklos he's described as gentle, and by Agamemnon and Nestor's indictment doesn't act when he should, being more prone and willing to let Agamemnon take point. Could say it ties into how Helen in the Odyssey is the more dominant partner in terms of social interaction, as well. In Euripides' Iphigenia in Aulis, this adjacent connection turns a little more clear, for some of the way Agamemnon describes how Menelaos is acting at some points have a rather feminising slant.)

And then there's our last "offender", who we see more of in terms of his lacking in living up to proper (Iliadic) masculinity; Paris. Before going into that, I want to touch on something else.

III. That being what the idea of the Trojans being "barbarians" does to the Trojans in later sources. In the Iliad itself, while the Iliad does have a pro-Achaean bias, the Trojans and their allies aren't really portrayed in the same way as happens later (but not consistently so), coming into shape during and after the Persian Wars. In summary, it's during this time the Trojans gain the negative stereotypes of the eastern "barbarian"; luxurious, slavish (but also tyrants! one basically ties into and enables the other), and effeminate.

Not all "barbarians" were considered the same, with the same stereotypes attached to them; northern (Scythians, etc.) barbarians were considered violent and warlike, "savage" if you will.

Edith Hall's book Inventing the Barbarian (1989), is all about this, but have a couple hopefully illuminating quotes about how these stereotypes were expressed, especially in drama/fiction:

So what happens is that all Trojans get tarred with this eastern barbarian brush, as illustrated by the Trojan Women, for example, where Hecuba's description of Paris' looks when he came to Sparta is steeped in the eastern barbarian luxury terms. Which comes attached with other connotations. Another example is in the Aeneid (by a character, not the narrative);

"And now that Paris, with his eunuch crew, beneath his chin and fragrant, oozy hair ties the soft Lydian bonnet, boasting well his stolen prize."

Notes here: 1. This is said by a character, not the narrative itself, and using this as an argument against Aeneas and his Trojans, but the stereotype itself isn't something new; 2. "That Paris" = Aeneas. While this might be more about Paris as a seducer and abductor of Helen, adultery is as we know effeminate, and given the emasculation of the rest of the Trojans and then the additional effeminate touches with Aeneas' supposed dress and hair, I'd say it's not just about that; 3. The word translated here as "eunuch" (semivir, "half-man"), by a quick look in Perseus' word tool, is also straight up used about effeminacy, though of course an actual eunuch wasn't a "full"/proper man and often viewed as effeminate, too, so they're tied together.

This is a development, of course, and we can't know how completely the later ideas of effeminacy would've been reflected in the times when the Iliad was crystallized. But on the other hand, those ideas about effeminacy wouldn't have sprung ready-made out of nothing in the Archaic/Classical era, either. Even in the Iliad, there are clear criteria for what makes a man properly manly/martial, which isn't really followed along the lines of later eastern barbarians/Greeks. So in the Iliad itself obviously not all Trojan characters would be equally easy to cast in an effeminate light.

But, again, we come back to the easiest target, the one who, by the way he's juxtaposed against another character who exemplifies the "war as (part of the) male gender performance" in the Iliad, stands outside of that. The one who basically, as he is portrayed in the Iliad, by the stereotype of the later eastern barbarian becomes the archetypal "eastern barbarian Trojan".

Paris.

IV. So, let's talk about Paris!

At the very basic level when it comes to Paris and his place in the Iliad, is that he is the foil and contrast to his brother Hektor in specific, as a warrior and as a man. But in that specific reflection he is also the contrast against almost every other male character, Achaean and Trojan, in the Iliad.

What does this mean?

-Cowardice; he's slack and unwilling as Hektor accuses him of. No way to know if this is specifically because he's always afraid of martial engagement, as in the moment we see before his duel against Menelaos, since being unwilling to fight in deadly combat could be for many different reasons. (He is not always slack and unwilling, however; he is out there on the battlefield with the rest at the beginning of Book 3, and after Book 6 he is, as far as we know, out there with the rest of the Trojans, from beginning to end. His unreliability in his martial efforts is another angle.) But the reason(s) why do not really matter; it would be cowardice either way. Not returning to the battlefield and instead sleeping with Helen, and then, again, not returning immediately after they're done be considered part of cowardice as well. Paris' not returning without being prompted (in one case, if he's being honest, by Helen herself) undoubtedly has several connotations and implications.

-He is one of, if not the worst, fighters among the commanders, on both sides. His martial prowess isn't up to snuff. As we see in Book 3 where Hektor calls him out on retreating, he notes that Paris' beauty would have the Achaeans believe Paris is one of the Trojans' foremost champions, for the idea is that this physical excellence would be paired with martial excellence. But it isn't, because of Paris' cowardice and his lack of martial ability, and tying into this, then, is;

-Paris' beauty. As noted earlier with Nireus, physical beauty not backed up by martial prowess makes you less than, and the epithet used most often for Paris to call him godlike is specifically about his physical looks. There are other epithets (also sometimes used of Paris) that mean "godlike" in a more general way, but the one most often used of Paris is specific. And, that particular word is what's used when Paris first leaps forward in Book 3; the narrative is using theoeides every single time Paris' name is used in Book 3. And so we get something like this, from J. Griffin in his Homer on Life and Death (1980): "…the poet makes it very clear that the beauty of Paris is what characterizes him, and is at variance with his lack of heroism…" as well as from Ransom in his article: "Again the suggestion is that Paris’ beauty is empty, and that he is lacking the courage or other manly characteristics that would render it honourable. […] Paris is set against Menelaos, a ‘real’ man by implication, and he is told that his skill with the lyre and his beauty would be no help to him then."

-Being an archer. The bow wasn't the manliest weapon around, and the Iliad disparages its use on the battlefield (selectively!). Paris is basically our archetypical archer, who gets insulted for being an archer and less manly because of that. Diomedes' insult in Book 11 lays this out very clearly; he straight up calls the bow not a real weapon, and by implication in his further speech implies Paris is no different than a woman or a child. Now, many people are insulted on the Iliadic battlefield by being compared to women or children. But none of these men are archers - or Paris, who Diomedes has just insisted has given him a(n insignificant) injury, by a "not real" weapon, that is the same as if a woman or child hit him. He's denying Paris' martial ability and masculinity several times over.

-The first part of Diomedes' litany of insults is worth looking at as well; "kera aglae = shining/glorious in horn", which is variously translated as either splendid in your crown of curls/glorying in your hair/bow. The translation varies because the Ancient Greeks also didn't know what was meant, exactly, and while I prefer the 'hair' option (because the bow is superfluous as it's mentioned right after), bow would emphasise again the uselessness of such a weapon; Paris' martial skill is useless and less manly. But what's more interesting in the case of if it might mean Paris' hair (as a way of dressing it, is meant); it puts an emphasis, again, on Paris' looks and the effort he makes in his presentation. Effort he shouldn't put there. And a third option that I don't know if translators ever use is that it might mean 'penis', which shakes out into "glorying in your penis". So, an insult about Paris' prowess being in the bedroom instead of on the battlefield, which is, of course, unmanly.

-His focus on dancing and music, as brought up by both Hektor and Aphrodite (and, though in a more general insulting context with other sons being mentioned as well, by Priam). The problem is, again, of course not his skill or interest in and with these things, but that he is better at these than combat and that he shows more interest in them and, by especially Hektor's implications, puts more effort and focus in these than martial endeavour.

As a point when it comes to his being a lyrist; that, too, was often edged in ideas of effeminacy. So while, of course, no man is effeminate just because they may take up the lyre at some point, as this was very much part of a genteel and elite culture, if one dedicates one's life to it, that starts to have an effect on how the person is viewed. As an illustration, this quote from The Culture of Kitharoidia (2010) by Timothy Power: "Juvenal is in fact activating, with the added zeal of the Roman moralizer […] a critical topos that Greek comic poets and cultural conservatives themselves had deployed as early as the fifth century BCE: the negative characterization of popular music and musicians, not least star citharodes, as prettified and unmanly, "soft" […], if still highly sexed." and also "[…]and as singers of aismata gunaikon. This latter phrase could be understood to mean "women's songs" or "songs sung for the enjoyment of women". Again, the conceit of the musician as effeminate seducer is operative." The way Hektor connects Paris' skill with his lyre together with his beauty as contra-martial in the Iliad seems to me like a nascent seed of this. And then we have the below quoted ode by Horace where Paris is playing for "his women", and thus their enjoyment, away from the battlefield and undoubtedly in private/the women's part of the house, and this, together with his sexuality and reputation for seducing (Helen), and we're probably right smack dab in the "woman-focused effeminate" of the musician spectrum. Aelian's Varia Historia has a similar point about Paris' lyre/singing; "what were sung but adulterous airs to take and seduce women?".

-His sexuality. As noted earlier, a man should show moderation and self-restraint. Paris, giving in to his desires and having sex in the middle of the day and during a tense moment, even if the forces aren't supposed to be fighting at that very point in time (neither he nor Helen would know Athena has induced Pandaros into breaking the truce), is certainly not showing any sort of moderation. He shows no hesitation in bringing up his desire to sleep with Helen, and has to be fetched from the innermost parts of his and Helen's home. The place where the women clearly are considered to be, which is not where a man should linger. There is a similar lack of moderation and self-control in how Paris doesn't just sleeping with, but runs off with, someone else's wife - he wants Helen so much he (through whatever means) removes her from her husband's house.

I can't emphasize enough how much especially his speech about how much he desires Helen and the subsequent sex isn't some epitome of macho male sexuality and prowess. Rather, this is the epitome of feminized weakness to sex and pleasure. Paris goes through several possible words to describe his ardour and the pleasure of sex to Helen, and Paris throws himself whole-heartedly into the weakness he is displaying. And again, in the versions of story where Helen and Paris sleep together in Sparta before they leave, Paris thus having part of adultery, would, as noted earlier, also be attached to effeminacy, through the same lack of control over one's sexual urges.

-Paris' physical presentation. There is a lot of focus on his dress and how it makes him look (Aphrodite practically objectifies him for Helen's pleasure when she describes him to her!), and that his clothes are gorgeous. Again, have a quote from Ransom about that Aphrodite-Helen scene: "This scene captures his essence perfectly. Once more Paris’ looks and dress are emphasised […] and, in Aphrodite’s speech, the poet explicitly disassociates him from his martial endeavour." Connected to this we have his first appearance earlier in this book, where he's described as not wearing full armour but a leopard pelt. Here's Griffin again: "[…] so he has to change into proper armour before he can fight - and we are to supply the reason: because he looked glamorous in it." Now, I don't think it's that simple, because other people wear animal pelts in the Iliad; Agamemnon and Menelaos both do so, as does Diomedes and Dolon. However, Agamemnon and Menelaos both wear theirs as part of a full martial dress and they're clearly meant as part of a display of authority and martial prowess. Diomedes, though he's not otherwise fully armoured as this is part of his dress during the meeting before the night raid, is clearly meant to be similarly glorified (Dolon is more of a question, considering how he's portrayed otherwise). Paris is specifically not wearing a full set of armour, even if he apparently has it at home, so in the end I'd agree with Griffin that, given the other instances of Paris' clothing being extravagant/beautiful, this is indeed an instance of "because he looked glamorous in it".

But as Ruby Blondell puts it: "The destructive power of "feminine" beauty is most ostentatiously displayed, among mortals, in the person not of Helen but of Paris. In contrast to the veiling of her looks, Paris's dangerous beauty is displayed, glorified, and also castigated. […] His appearance is unusually decorative, even in battle. His equipment is "most beautiful" (6.321), glorious, and elaborate (6.504), and his outfit includes such exotic details as a leopard skin (3.17) and a "richly decorated strap (polukestos himas) under his tender throat" (3.371)." (Helen of Troy (2013)) And aside from the Iliad, Euripides in describing Paris in the Trojan Women and Iphigenia in Aulis, makes much of his beautiful clothes.

Too much attention to one's looks would, again, be feminising. (Taking it as an aside because I don't remember where I read it or the source of the statement, but a note to an article I once read quoted a source as saying that a man paying too much attention to his hair was an indicator of either being an adulterer, or effeminate.) Men who were excessively interested in women were then stereotyped as decorating themselves further to attract them, with cosmetics, perfume, and even feminine clothes (because this sort of decorating oneself was thought to be attractive to women when a man did it). In the Heroicus (Philostratus), Paris is described as having white skin (suggesting he, like women, keep out of the sun), polishing his nails and painting his eyes, and in conjunction with the Iliad's focus on Paris' hair and his perfumed bedroom, this could be contrasted with a description of an effeminate character from Longus' novel Daphnis and Chloe: "His hair was glistening with perfumed locks, his eyes were shadowed; he wore a soft cloak and fine slippers, heavy rings sparkled on his fingers." (trans. Goold)

And Paris' pretty hair gets insulted at least once (by Hektor) and potentially twice, the second time by Diomedes in Book 11. (The phrase used is uncertain whether it's about Paris' hair or his bow; that it could be his hair, being worn in a particular style, has been an idea from ancient times.) And we know what sort of fuss the Iliad makes of pretty hair in men who do not otherwise live up to being properly masculine according to its ethos.

-His attitude towards the whole (Homeric) heroic ethos of the Iliad. Not just his unwillingness or lack of martial prowess, but rather the "personal motto" he expresses to Hektor in Book 6; "victory shifts from man to man". And, while I wouldn't say this is at all a typical mark of an effeminate man in terms of the Ancient Greek outlook on these matters, you do have to set it in connection to his other martial "failings". As Kirk in his The Iliad, a Commentary, vol. 1 (1985/2001) says: "He thus attributes success in battle to more or less random factors, discounting his personal responsibility and performance." and, another point of view from Muellner in The meaning of Homeric εὔχομαι through its formulas (1976) about this same "motto":

-A comment on Paris' epithet of "husband of lovely-haired Helen". While I heavily doubt there's any implication of unmanliness made in the Iliad itself by Paris being called this epithet, compared to the other elements to how Paris is portrayed, in Euripides' Electra Electra has a statement about Aigisthos that it's shameful for man to be known as being a woman's husband, instead of the other way around. My guess is that Iliad-wise (or within the epic tradition of the Trojan war), Paris' epithet is factual; he is the husband of Helen, nothing more or less. But by the point we get to Archaic/Classical Greece, the audiences would look at such an epithet - while still factual - differently. Especially in conjunction with everything else around Paris, I think.

So what you have, then, in sum is Paris being very much non-masculine. In the Iliad itself he is, at the very least, not conforming to the martial and cultural expectations and mores of the Iliad's/the Homeric masculine ethos. Even if you add in/change some of how the Trojans might view things, Paris would without a doubt still be non-conforming. Myth-wise, he certainly is so, both before and after the Persian Wars and the changes to the Trojans' general perception at the hands of the Athenian tragedians happened.

Here's Christopher Ransom again, to tie things up: "If gender is performance, Paris is simply not playing his part; if ‘being a man’ requires a concerted effort and a conscious choice, it seems as though Paris’ choices are in opposition to those of his more heroic brother."

V. And lastly, some scattered quotes from ancient sources about Paris, roughly ordered from earliest to latest:

"Accursed Paris, outstanding only in beauty, woman crazed, seducer-[…]The long-haired Achaeans howl in laughter thinking you our first champion, because your appearance is beautiful - but there is no strength in your heart, nor any courage.[…]Your lyre and the gifts of Aphrodite would be of no use to you, nor your hair and looks[…]" "[…]he is on his bed in his own room, radiant with beauty and dressed in gorgeous apparel. No one would think he had just come from fighting, but rather that he was going to a dance, or had done dancing and was sitting down. (The Iliad, Book 3) -I think these two Iliad quotes boil things down nicely. Hektor's lines are very much haranguing Paris for his lack of manliness in what Hektor chooses to insult. The focus on his beauty and the clothing in Aphrodite's lines add to it, for the clothing (and their emphasised beauty) especially would enhance said beauty. Aphrodite also bringing up dancing, and this is yet another notch in how he is so attractive and sexual/sexualized; the dancing grounds and dancing by young women and men were loci of sexuality.

"No! my son was exceedingly handsome, and when you saw him your mind straight became your Aphrodite; for every folly that men commit, they lay upon this goddess, [990] and rightly does her name begin the word for “senselessness”; so when you caught sight of him in gorgeous foreign clothes, ablaze with gold, your senses utterly forsook you." (Euripides, Trojan Women) "in robes of gorgeous hue, ablaze with gold, in true barbaric pomp;[70]" (Iphigenia in Aulis) -These two quotes are pretty straightforward, especially keeping in mind all the above and Edith Hall's discussion of the words connected to eastern "barbarians" by this point. And, too, however, that 'ablaze with gold' would imply he's wearing (a lot) of jewellery, which is not really a manly thing to do. The description in IA once more has him in lots of jewellery, and the "gorgeous hue" more literally says "flowery", so either presumably the various colours of flowers, or the clothes are embroidered in flowers.

"Vainly shall you; in Venus' favour strong, Your tresses comb, and for your dames divide On peaceful lyre the several parts of song; Vainly in chamber hide

From spears and Gnossian arrows, barb'd with fate, And battle's din, and Ajax in the chase Unconquer'd; those adulterous locks, though late, Shall gory dust deface." (Horace, Odes) -Double focus on his hair, and through that, Paris' behaviour (playing music, avoiding battle), all of it disassociating him from martial effort and into a more "feminine" sphere.

"So then Achilles you, who overcame the mighty, were subdued by a coward who seduced a Grecian wife! Ah, if you could not die by manly hands, your choice had been the axe." (Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book 12) -Quite literally spelled out in the text that Paris isn't manly, and that he's so very much not manly that Klytaimnestra, a literal woman, would've been the preferred slayer instead!

"[…]shall we endure a Phrygian eunuch hovering about the coasts and harbours of Argos […]" (Statius, Achilleid) -Again, like in the Aeneid quote, the "eunuch" here is "semivir", so Paris is explicitly emasculated and made out to be effeminate, for while it might be used of a eunuch (who is a "half-man") it's otherwise attached to effeminacy or other gender/sexual deviance. And certainly it is here, in the form of the effeminate man who is a great seducer of and greatly attractive to (and sexually weak towards) women.

"He attached panthers' skins to his shoulders, he did not allow dirt to settle on his hair, not even when he was fighting, and he polished his fingernails. He had a rather aquiline nose and white skin, his eyes were painted,[…]" (Philostratus, Heroicus/On Heroes) -Including the full and not just paraphrased quote here in the interest of fullness sake; the fussiness to his appearance is very clear, never mind the implication of his pale skin as noted earlier.

"And he washed him in the snowy river and went his way, stepping with careful steps, lest his lovely feet should be defiled of the dust; lest, if he hastened more quickly, the winds should blow heavily on his helmet and stir up the locks of his hair." and "he [Paris] stood, glorying in his marvellous graces. Not so fair was the lovely son whom Thyone bare to Zeus: forgive me, Dionysus! even if thou art of the seed of Zeus, he, too, was fair as his face was beautiful." (Colluthus, Rape of Helen) -I don't think I need to say much about that dainty description of Paris' behaviour and the care he takes to still look as put together and beautiful for when he reaches Sparta, do I? The second quote, though, I think deserves some comment, because Collutus twice in short order compares Paris to Dionysos, and as we saw in Hall's book, Dionysus in the Bacchae is associated not just with a foreign man, but someone who would be tarred with the stereotypes of the eastern "barbarian". And Dionysos has long, of course, been portrayed with a particularly feminized beauty, not just in drama.

On top of this, much earlier than Colluthus we have Cratinus' Dionysalexandros, a satyr play where Dionysos takes Paris' place for both the Judgement and kidnapping Helen. To note is that while the satyrs are followers of Dionysos, their uses as chorus in satyr plays wouldn't necessarily have them attached to Dionysos (often, they seem in fact to have removed themselves from him). And in this circumstance, then, Paris isn't just compared to the effeminate Dionysos, Dionysos straight up (though disguised as Paris) replaces him for a part of the play.

It all starts in the Iliad, but it certainly doesn't end there, and by the end his effeminacy is just all the more explicitly stated in text as effeminacy.

(Christopher Ransom's article can be read right here: https://www.academia.edu/355314/Aspects_of_Effeminacy_and_Masculinity_in_the_Iliad Edith Hall's book can be downloaded on her own website: https://edithhall.co.uk/product/reading-ancient-slavery/ Meriel Jones' Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Greek Novel can be found as an unpublished thesis here: https://cronfa.swan.ac.uk/Record/cronfa42521 (but also exists as a published book) Timothy Power's The Culture of Kitharoidia can be read here: https://chs.harvard.edu/book/power-timothy-the-culture-of-kitharoidia/ )

#greek mythology #paris of troy #greek myth thoughts #the iliad

27 notes · View notes

vaguely-concerned · 11 months ago

Text

Thoughts upon finishing Master and Apprentice! A good double read with Padawan; the ending of that leaving Obi-Wan slightly hopeful about his relationship to Qui-Gon makes for a very sad yet hilarious ‘Local Padawan loses last little bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of vibe to the beginning of this one, which is set one (1) year later and Obi-Wan is So Done with Qui-Gon’s whole deal by this point (correctly btw). Also if you can’t tell already I will not be objective or free from bias in this because I love Obi-Wan so much and some of the stuff Qui-Gon pulled made me incandescent with rage on his behalf <3 let’s go

- 'oh obi-wan, you're so mature for your age, I keep forgetting you're only seventeen years old,' qui-gon says, word for word, repeatedly, in master and apprentice, apparently willfully deaf to the industrial-sized warning bells about their relationship dynamic that should probably be setting off in his head. qui-gon believes in vibing with the living force and being in the moment right up until the moment requires him to pay attention to the kid he's raising for more than oh, one and a half minutes of self-effacing inner monologue and then he's like 'well unfortunately there is simply no time for that right now there are prophecies to be pondered'. (the fact that the admission that obi-wan has essentially been left to raise himself emotionally and the resigned reframing of that as 'and maybe that is a good thing!' is part of the olive branch they extend to each other towards the end... will my sadness never end)

- most of all it's so heartbreaking to me that qui-gon seemingly never understands just how much obi-wan as a person is rooted deeply in shame. I don't think that's a feeling that's particularly prevalent in qui-gon's own inner world so he doesn't recognize how central it is in obi-wan's psychology and completely misunderstands and misaligns with him again and again and again and then gets annoyed with obi-wan for that, thus making the shame even deeper. doubly painful because he does see the way rael lives so much of his life out of shame now and feels sad about it, but can't see the way he's contributing to obi-wan doing so. this is what fucks me up so bad about the generational trauma in star wars -- no one here meant to be cruel. for all his faults I do think qui-gon does love obi-wan and doesn't mean to hurt him. but the original sin of the prequels as far as I'm concerned is qui-gon tenderly drying away obi-wan's tears as he's dying even while completely failing to see him, his eyes too fixed on anakin's future to actually be with obi-wan, who's there right now and needs him.

these are simply very different people trying and failing to understand each other, and the harm that can still happen in that… 'if you love me, you don't love me in a way I understand', all the way through the disaster line, even when the love is there, it is there, that’s what hurts the most, it just doesn’t reach where it’s needed, there’s a connection that doesn’t happen. (ironically I think ahsoka doesn't doubt that anakin loves her, it's just uh everything else that went down. so y'know family curse broken! new even more fucked up curse achieved now with more child murder. I mean there already was some child murder in this family but anakin upped the game exponentially)

- a lil guy who's basically tarzan except the gorillas are replaced with protocol droids and then he becomes a jewel thief is one of the funniest star wars concepts I've ever heard and I hope pax and rahara get to pop up in more star wars media, they’re great fun. (also an idea I think would be super fun to make a character/campaign around in Edge of the Empire or something, everyone playing different droids and then one person being robo-parented lol)

- was not prepared to have rael posit a theory of what essentially seems to be the jedi version of predestination in his despair, but I do love to see it haha. especially interesting since he, qui-gon and dooku must be among the people alive who've studied the prophecies in most depth, and they've all reached different conclusions -- dooku decides to join the war of light and dark on the side of dark for some reason, qui-gon (possibly the stubbornest fucker the jedi order ever produced) 'turns towards the light not to win some great cosmic game, but because it is the light', and rael in the middle falls into the depressed apathy of 'it doesn't matter what we do here, the outcome is already decided; for there to be true balance there has to be as much dark as light in the world so we're fucked'. but in the end he does take qui-gon's words to heart and turns towards the light rather than accepting dooku's offer, even if he might not believe it makes a difference in the long run. man I love rael. hobo-looking sonofabitch living in a castle for eight years will just suddenly fling out some deep jedi theology huh

- master rael 'I'm gonna make up for the big terrible mistake I made on accident by making an even bigger more premeditated mistake on purpose' averross (affectionate)

- the added layer to dooku’s fascination with prophecy after reading dooku: jedi lost — that his best friend in the world was a seer who couldn’t turn it off and it destroyed him……….. dooku you’re not getting him back if you just understand what he saw you know that right

- the more I read of master and apprentice the more I realize that the reason yoda and qui-gon don't get along is that they're two of the judgiest bitches the jedi order ever produced. They’re like two cats scowling judgmentally at each other from opposite sides of the room pretending to live and let live while going ‘you’re wrong tho’ internally.

- I dunk on him constantly (not entirely without affection, however grudging), but Qui-Gon is genuinely a really interesting character. He’s so… he’s so. He’s infuriating but he’s infuriating in an equidistant sort of way. You feel me. He’s pissing everyone off equally and he just doesn’t care because again, he’s the stubbornest judgiest bitch around and thinks he’s right all the time. I would be free to just enjoy his ornery ‘no actually I’m right about this’ ass and the chaos he wreaks so much more if Obi-Wan didn’t have to live with the emotional consequences of it lol.

- poor rael closing in on fifty with his puriteen middle-aged little brother clutching pearls about his getting laid once in a blue moon fhdskjahfas. again a really interesting insight into different ways of interpreting the jedi code, though, I love seeing the jedi not be an ideological monolith. to be fair to rael, having sex sometimes does seem to be the indulgence he has that causes the least conflict with his principles or loyalties so you know what honestly force speed you my friend why not. (and then there's qui-gon 'noooo sex is only okay if you're In Love (implied: like I was)!!!' jinn lmao. I wonder what he'd think of anakin and padme's relationship, would that pass the 'being sufficiently purely in love' test for him) I do like how consistently it’s shown that rael doesn’t mean to be cruel or unkind in anything he says, he always notices something landing too close to home and then pulls carefully back from it instead of pushing on. He seems to be the emotional intelligence powerhouse in this lineage (as long as he doesn’t have his feelings too tangled up in something, at least).

Dooku: jedi lost also shows us that dooku absolutely knows rael is out there in the galaxy laying pipe and is, at worst, softly amused by it. So in this little family unit it’s only qui-gon losing his mind over it fjsdkafa I’m so used to having qui-gon be the wild card maverick compared to obi-wan ‘*in tears* but what are the RULES master’ kenobi, it’s so fucking funny that within the context that raised him he’s the stick in the mud

I guess. the book also had a plot and it was not bad! some interesting insights about how the republic interacted with the big corporations and just how fucked everything already was by this point. I'm a pretty character-driven reader so that's what sticks with me for the most part

- obi-wan’s big teenage rebellion here being that sometimes. Occasionally. When he really loses his temper and gets hot under the collar. He’ll say something slightly passive aggressive out loud instead of keeping it contained inside his head. And qui-gon still can’t handle that gracefully AT ALL he snaps right back fdjskfhas. (I guess he also snitches on qui-gon to the council but well, you know, qui-gon was breaking republic law pretty brazenly at that point I think that moves beyond teenage angst and into ‘...master that’s a wholeass felony’ territory). Obi-Wan does go for a couple of low blows, but like. Nothing that’s not actually true, is the thing. And mostly he blames himself for not being good enough, because surely if he were qui gon wouldn’t treat him like this. Augh. hngh. Pain. suffering.

- I am not one of the people who think everything would have automatically been just hunky-dory if only qui-gon lived and could have been anakin's master (in fact I would have given it a 50/50 chance of going exponentially worse way faster; being more similar as people is not always a guarantee that a relationship will go smoother and qui-gon is an incredibly difficult man to be close to for any length of time), but the way this book basically presents how the dynamic between dooku, rael and qui-gon could have gone on in the next generation too... it would have been incredibly unfair to obi-wan (as always I think that's just an universal constant lmao) but I think the odds of it turning out okay would have been better if you had him in the mix to run crisis control for both qui-gon and anakin, as he does for each of them individually as best he can anyway. at least he could have been free to be anakin's brother and friend purely in that scenario, without all the added mess of grief and having to take on a parental role there so young. he does basically fill that role in ahsoka's apprenticeship, after all.

- qui-gon finally hugging rael before he leaves the planet (and especially since when they were younger he wanted to, but held himself back from it)... that's still his big brother even with all the shit that's happened since ;_____; when someone teaches you how to swim (literally and symbolically) that shit stays with you I suppose

Relatedly: DOOKU getting hugged, and gladly. What the fuck. Are you all seeing this shit. I’m gonna cry or laugh I’m not sure which one why am I emotionally invested in the galaxy's most problematic grandpa now this sucks

#and that's the power of star wars baybey #star wars #master and apprentice #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jin #rael averross #count dooku #star wars meta

143 notes · View notes

revvethasmythh · 1 year ago

Note

Do you think if Chetney was younger, the response to Fearniture would be different? I’ve seen some people try to minimize it entirely, even after this episode and the threesome.

This is something I've been thinking about on and off for a lot of the campaign, and I've kind of settled around thinking that the answer is both yes and no. Do I think Chetney being visibly elderly and therefore non-traditionally attractive is definitely a reason for the relative unpopularity of Fearniture? Yes. Do I think it's THE reason? No.

I often think of Chetney's treatment within fandom is kind of reminiscent of the way Sam's PC's get treated. That is, as a joke character, someone who does a bit and doesn't really have much else going on except to cause chaos and be annoying. Like, Chetney is a ridiculous character, purposefully so, but I think the way the fandom engages with that is often in the bad faith assumption that just because a character is ridiculous they can't be meaningful. (Remember how popular was the idea that Chet was just a joke character that Travis would kill off any day now? That there was no point in getting invested because he was "just a joke"?) Which, I, a person who grew up reading series after series of some of the most utterly ridiculous urban fantasy books out there--and loved them, because UF is a fundamentally absurd genre--loudly disagree with. I often think you can find some of the most profound sentiments in the world buried in utter ridiculousness (what did Brennan say? "Profundity and absurdity are deeply in love"? Because THAT).

I just think people often take the face value of something ridiculous or absurd and never bother to sit with anything deeper about it, and I think that's more what's at play here with Chetney than his physical attractiveness, though I do still think that's an aspect of it. If people take Fearne/Chetney seriously (and I don't mean as some sort of intensely romantic, monogamous couple--we all know they're not that) it means acknowledging that Chetney can be treated seriously as a character with depth and worth in exploring a romantic relationship. And it's so much easier to just keep it surface value and think he's just a randy weirdo shooting shots (and, hopefully, getting shot down. Because who wants their favorite to end up in a relationship with someone they think won't add any depth to the dynamic?)

There is also some ship war stuff happening here, especially in regards to why Chetney is erased from the threesome (keeping him away from Fearne) which is conversely why people really seem to like Chetney/Deanna but also don't create much if any fan content for it (still not engaging with Chetney, but also, hey! At least he's away from Fearne). I won't get into the specifics of it all too much because I think ship wars are unbelievably stupid and I hate the idea of accidentally calling that to me, but I feel like it definitely exists as an undercurrent of Chetney-hate and his erasure from the threesome.

#chetney pock o'pea #asks #anon #critical role #bells hells

217 notes · View notes

sapphosewrites · 6 months ago

Note

top 10 ds9 fan fics you've written, ranked?

Oooh, tough question, friend! I don't even know what the criteria for this would be, because the most AO3 popular ones are not always my favorites... Okay, you know what, here we go. I'm just going to go for it and make some decisions. I'm giving myself a rule, though, that I can only chose one from a series, so I'm not just listing everything in the Terok Nor AU. I'll also try to hit different kinds of fics I've written.

10.) After the End of the World: A Survey of Seminal Works of Cardassian Post-Apocalyptic Literature from cross-posted to tumblr. 533 words, "An examination of the Cardassian post-apocalyptic literary genre before and after the Dominion War." This isn't my most popular or my best written but it's one of my favorites; I like in-world diegetic texts and worldbuilding and I'm obsessed with the idea of post-canon Cardassia as post-apocalypse.

9.) Never Have I Ever from The Game Is Afoot, 1,294 words, T, "Julian introduces Garak to the human game never have I ever." This was fun to write and is fun to reread every time! I often spend a lot of fic space on angst and identity and all the reasons why it's a bad idea for Julian and Garak to get together, but in this one we just get to spend time seeing them be clever and enjoy each other's company.

8.) Tribbles, Togetherness, and the Great River, 1,742 words, G, "In their shared quarters, Nog and Jake discuss tribbles, pets, and telling their families about their relationship." This is my only full standalone Jake/Nog fic, and it's another that was a pleasure to write and still makes me smile. It's fun to spend a sweet moment with two young people figuring out how they fit together.

7.) Del Floria's Tailor Shop, 336 words, also known as the space tumblr one. I think this is possibly the funniest thing I've ever written.

6.) Push Me Til I Break, 4,653 words, M, also known as the one where Garak interrogates Julian, and the role play goes wrong. Maybe the most tense thing I've ever written, and really leans into the ways in which two deeply hurting people can choose to hurt or hold.

5.) Growth, 45,843 words, T, "Julian and Garak grapple with their pasts and their feelings for each other at the end of the series." My super long post-canon Cardassia fic, back when I had no idea how to string a multi-chapter idea together. There's a lot I would change if I wrote this now (I've grown as a writer in many ways, including my ability to have scene transitions), but some of the conversations and moments in here are still absolute favorites of mine, particularly around ideas of self-forgiveness, the clash between values and actions, and the importance of choice.

4.) Predetermination, 22,200 words, T, Mirror Bashir arrives at the station and suddenly the nature/nurture debate has never had higher stakes. This is one of the places I think I've been most successful in using sci fi to ask big questions that hopefully resonate in the modern day, about who we are and how we become. Also, the ending takes inspiration from one of my favorite TNG episodes, and that was cool too.

3.) Especially the Lies, 13,019 words, T, "Something is going on with Garak, and no one knows what, except for possibly Julian Bashir." This is my only archive-warning-applied fic and it was really important to me to tell a story about care, for a character who I think doesn't believe he's allowed to have any, in a real world circumstance that too often people have to go through alone.

2.) Necessary Storms, 15,149 words, T, Julian and Starfleet Spouse Garak get entangled in Trill politics. I feel like this is one of the things I've written that most feels like it could be an episode of Star Trek, and is also a fairly unsubtle (though initially unintentional) way to explore populism, demagoguery, resource distribution, and revolt at a very particular moment in national politics with the aesthetic distance that sci fi offers.

1.) Old Friends: An Enigma Tale from Terok Nor AU. I'm exceedingly proud of this whole series, which started as just "what can I do with the idea of dabo boy Julian" and has turned into a sweeping journey covering how Terok Nor becomes Deep Space 9. This most recent installment is perhaps not indicative of the series as a whole, but it was a lot of fun to write and is also a dip into my other favorite genre aside from sci fi (murder mystery).

#my writing #confess nothing is statistically my most popular fic but i don't think it's my most interesting #almost made the list are made to measure and son of tain #also none of my fairy tale things are on here but i think i have lots of interesting ideas in those as well #if you have a fic that is your personal top of what i've written i'd love to hear about it!

38 notes · View notes

allastoredeer · 7 months ago

Note

I have no idea if this is a thing, and you seem to know a lot, so: would Alastor be able to play the 'I fought in WW1' card to draw suspicion away from himself while smuggling alcohol during the prohibition?

Ah thank you ^.^ Haha, I've mostly just been reading up on things. Despite any history facts I give out, I always recommend people research too. Who knows? I might misread something or misinterpret it. I don't wanna spread misinformation.

World War 1 ended in 1918 and the Prohibition ended in 1933, so I wouldn't put it past Alastor to pull the "I fought in WW1" card if it gave him an advantage, or got him out of a tight spot.

And he'll lay it on thick too, especially if he's in a REALLY tight pickle. Anything to get out once the cops start sniffing around.

Maybe to get a few free drink every now and again, too.

#I really wouldnt put it past him #he'd do it no hesitation #maybe he'd save it for rare occasions #when he REALLY needs an out #but I also find it funny if he just used it all the time #he fought in WW1 so he might as get something out of it right?#LMAO #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #asks #anon #anonymous

38 notes · View notes

crystallizsch · 6 months ago

Note

hi ian i come bearing angst fuel for the yuusha as twsted elsa (maybe an idea for her possible overblot idk she kinda reads to me as someone whod preemptively isolate in the case she feels...blotty)

(also seeing that art of her playing violin totally didnt fuck me up im still nursing my bruised heart 🥴🥴💕💕)

https://youtu.be/NDldNaEZTt8?si=Wm71pgTltuJLjFvk

^^this is from the frozen musical where they gave a song to elsa to explore her emotional turmoil and it just fleshed out her character so much more than the orig movie (ok i havent seen frozen 2 oops) but just this section here:

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive?

Was I a monster from the start?

How did I end up with this frozen heart?

Bringing destruction to the stage

Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

anyways lmao i jus think the song is neat i think yuushas neat (i wanna see more of her ahehehe i love seeing infodumps abt ur yuus)

-diodellet

(throwback to this “what if yuu had magic” ask where i had a ✨realization✨ and this more recent yuusha lore drop that i gave zero elaboration on 🙃)

very rough ob yuu design??? idk i came up with it on the spot ;;; and it’s kinda based on disney’s concept art of elsa when she was supposed to be the villain.

evil ice queen vibes :3

also i know the ob monster is supposed to be based on the villain— which is elsa in this case— but lowkey. an ice monster is way cooler.

also also i just realized after i drew this i couldve done a grim/yuu tandem overblot ough 🤧🤧 (next time I'll do that instead if i ever go back to this concept)

(read more below because it got SO long)

AAH anyways hi hi dio!!! when i saw your ask i went —

— with this entire post

AAGH HOW MANY MORE UNINTENTIONAL CONNECTIONS ARE GOING TO BE BETWEEN FROZEN AND YUUSHA

i guess watching the movie everyday when it came out when you’re like 9 does something to your brain chemistry (and still haunts you at least a decade later) 💀

but anyways the angst ;;; overblot yuu ;;;;; my brain is rotting and the worms have taken over

also i didn’t even know that there was a frozen broadway musical so im gonna have to check it out later 🏃💨💨💨

(also dont worry frozen 2 is a nice watch for the most part but the way they concluded the characters did not feel 100% satisfying to me 😭 BUT i love some of the songs tho ;;; kristoff’s goofy 80s ballad song is one of them specifically, i need everyone to listen to it)

hfgnnfhfgv anyways thank you so much i’m chugging that angst fuel as i expand more on a possible ob yuusha with another infodump 💪💪💪

⚠️⚠️⚠️ ALSO IM SORRY BUT mentions of taking one’s own life so please proceed with caution ⚠️⚠️⚠️

i had to reread what my initial thoughts about it bc it was months ago??? and after rereading im just like, huh what was i on— (just that feeling when you just cringe at your old posts ;; but idk i think the insanity/cringe sometimes can loop back into being a genius and the cycle just continues)

anyways i’ve been on and off writing yuusha’s bio and overblot yuu was just at the back of my mind chilling but i didn’t really do anything with it.

but now that i have the opportunity,,,, im gonna go on the magicless route this time bc i feel like I've said all what i thought if it was an overblot due to her own magic.

so uh from what i gather overblots are a mix of overuse of magic + intense negative emotion.

since it’s magicless yuu, i guess the one of the general headcanons around the fandom is that they’ve been too exposed to overblots and then intense negative emotions suddenly just triggered their overblot.

uh anyways onto the elsa parts

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive? Was I a monster from the start? How did I end up with this frozen heart? Bringing destruction to the stage Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

THE LYRICS ARE SO GOOD ;;; i really love how some broadway interpretations expand on the source material

and yeah you're right 🤧🤧🤧— yuusha would try to hide and escape, especially as she overblots bc she would try to avoid hurting people (and like elsa, it'd only hurt others more trying to escape bc of probably how she leaves destruction in her wake trying to make others stay away from her 😔)

(this is a small tangent but i remember thinking about an overblot kalim and i imagine him to be similar, like he would not hurt anyone intentionally in his overblot.)

anyways so the way it would go is that i imagine her friends got fatally injured either because a) she feels that she’s too “useless” without magic to help and wasn’t able to do anything OR b) her attempts at helping to try and prove that she can help without magic made everything worse.

and then she just goes into a guilty spiral then boom — overblot.

ALSO in the song, the way elsa briefly contemplated taking her own life but then realizing there’s no guarantee that would solve anything hnghgh (<- another unintentional parallel to my yuusha lore because that’s actually how she ended up in twst except she did NOT have the latter realization)

there’s this “yuu is dead” theory i’m just using and that the black carriage actually just caught yuusha’s soul after she took her own life from all the burden.

also some bonus angst context for that violin post :3

yuusha back in her homeworld is raised and known to be a gifted musician. people can feel the life and soul in her music but when people interact with her, they are usually met with an ice-cold (heh) personality.

the dead family member was the one who taught her music and the only one who was kind to her.

there’s always an expectation from her family to perform well and to keep up appearances as to not be a humiliation since anything she does can reflect on her entire family. (also hi, slight yuusha/jamil parallels maybe???)

the way she presents herself also stemmed from an incident as a child when she went apeshit on another kid bc she was defending a friend.

so from then on she was taught taught to conceal don’t feel those emotions — which just unfortunately extended to any positive ones, not just negative ones like rage.

so when she is brought to twst, there’s no memory of her being forced to hold back her emotions so she’s just unapologetically affectionate and open with everyone bc that’s how she really is.

but every now and then, memories of her breaking down haunt her in her dreams or as subtle reminders in the waking world.

then yuusha just goes on her day like she just wasn't reminded of her past.

(unnecessarily tragic lore my beloved, but anyway—)

another extremely brief tangent and bonus -> the two songs i had on loop while drawing pre-twst yuusha

lindsey stirling my beloved i love her music

the songs are such a vibe

her instrumentals in “lose you now” especially makes me feel some sort of way 😖

#AHH THIS IS /SO/ LONG #THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN IM GIVEN THE CHANCE TO RAMBLE #but thank you for the ask dio!! 🤧🤧#it makes me so happy to hear you like yuusha 😭💕💕#this also took a bit because i needed to like #actually turn all these thoughts into actual coherent words #and for them to actually. make sense together.#idk im proofreading this myself during the gamer hours of midnight hfdjslkf #i sure /hope/ they do make sense for the most part because this is pure massive brain vomit #[—✦ chatting #-✧ my art #-✧ oc rambles #(💜) yuusha #pretwst💜#-✦—]#at this point too i’m sticking to the twst elsa concept #it just felt weird admitting it bc i have a history with this movie and its fandom in general #kids would ask you “whos your favorite disney princess it cant be elsa” bc everyone would pick her so i'd have to pick another </3 #she was too famous and therefore too obvious and basic #not to mention “let it go” was EVERYWHERE and it did become annoying at one point 😭#the fandom around frozen back then was v questionable too ngl and i was also in that hole for a bit so it's just /ack/#but rewatching the movie i realize how elsa kinda speaks to me hgjkdsjfaljsd #i could lowkey highkey rant more about her but anyways #imma be an elsa defender and apologist for as long as i am able

22 notes · View notes

dragonnarrative-writes · 7 months ago

Text

Talking about real life in fandom spaces.

As I wrote part 2 of the Autumn Embers story, I wanted to make sure I took a moment to touch on some of the themes that I am writing about.

Omegaverse fiction is a really fun sandbox to play in! I love it! I love casual fun and fuck or die situations! I am endlessly amused by the idea of biologically mandated "I will have the uncontrollable need to fuck" leave from work. And of course, the wonderful world of mpreg.

At the same time, as a writer of color, as a queer person, as a person witnessing genocide, I can't completely divorce the world around me from the writing I do. Especially in the Call of Duty fandom, where our source material is about war and imperialism. (Here's a great video on the messages of Call of Duty. None of us are immune to propaganda.)

Autumn Embers makes a direct reference to the 4B Movement in South Korea, where women are making a stand for their right to exist without sexual harassment, assault, coercion, and discrimination. (short summary article by Dr. Katherine H. S. Moon, another article by Beh Lih Yi, wiki article with references) I am not, myself, of Korean descent, but I stand in solidarity with the women and marginalized people in Korea facing discrimination.

Because this is a work of omegaverse fiction, the discussion of pregnancy complications and loss of life are not 100% medically accurate. However, with the rise of babytrapping stories I've been seeing in the fandom, I think it's important to acknowledge that reproductive abuse and pregnancy can be dangerous or even fatal. (This is not condemnation of those types of stories at all. I enjoy a lot of them a hell of a lot! )

There will continue to be discussion of the dangers of reproductive abuse and ideas of biological essentialism surrounding pregnancy and birth. I also make a reference to capitalism and imperialism, and their impact on reproductive freedom across the globe. That that theme will come back.

Topics of intersex identities and experiences will come up! I'm genuinely surprised that I haven't seen more of this in the omegaverse spaces in general, so if you have links to fics that explore this, please share them with me!

I don't know the best way to end this, but I just wanted to make sure that I added some commentary. I would also love to see comments and discussions and tags! If you're not comfortable with those but still want to chat, my ask box is open!

#fandom and ethics #writing meta #autumn embers verse

30 notes · View notes

eventinelysplayground · 6 months ago

Text

Shattered

This is my second last fic for my 50 follower event and was requested by the delightful @fang-and-feather whose ask I put up on Tuesday if you want to take a look. This fic was hard to get the idea for but then I ended up getting an element I wanted and built two different ideas around that that weren't working so I dissected them and took parts of both along with the element and here it is. I had a lot of fun with this one, it felt like I could be a bit more daring with it in a way. I also switch pov at the end but it's mostly in Comtes. I hope you enjoy the fic Fang and thanks so much for the congrats and all your support especially when I first started out you have no idea how much it meant to me. An outing, a memory and one bad action tempt Comte. Mentions of alcohol, suspected infidelity, pregnancy and blood, WC approx 1929.

The night was warm with the subtle scent of flowers carried on the wind as the moon danced in and out between the clouds. Comte stood alone on the balcony, a glass in one hand and a half empty bottle of whiskey on the top rail. He had managed to outrun his thoughts since this afternoon but now in the stillness of the night he was at their mercy.

She looked absolutely stunning this afternoon, her smile was so radiant.

Comte took a long sip from his glass then let out a short self deprecating chuckle.

Really, this is unbecoming of me. It was all my own choices, I have no one else to blame. It's for the best anyway I would only have ruined her life.

When he had first started to notice that Mitsuki and Arthur were developing feelings for eachother he said nothing, believing his own feelings for her nothing but a passing desire that would be quickly forgotten. He'd had more than his fair share of romances just like that in even his long lifetime and yet…yet as time continued forward he realized just how wrong he was.

Mitsukis appearance at the mansion had brought a light and joy to their lives. She had touched all their hearts but only Arthur had been able to touch hers. Every time he witnessed them together, their happiness, devotion, love for one another, the warmth he felt to see her so happy warred with an ugly darkness in his heart. The darkness only grew as time went on and Mitsuki got even closer to him.

She certainly did manage to work her way past all my walls without even trying. She's always reached out and tried to see the best in everyone even then….

‘What were you thinking!?’

‘I knew you were a filthy klootzak but this is low even for you.’

‘Didn't think you'd be the type to settle down but I hoped for cara mias sake that I was wrong.’

‘How did you not even make it six months!?’

‘Newt, What the bloody hell are you all going on about!?’

‘You're going to play dumb?’

Theo had moved to grab Arthur by the lapels and Comte had been the one to stop him.

‘Calm down all of you, let's see if Arthur has anything to say at least.’

‘Anything to say to what? I don-’

‘You better think of something better than that after the way cara mias been crying.’

‘Wait, Mitsuki is upset? What happened?’

‘Like you don't know.’

‘Arthur enough games-’

‘I swear Comte I'm not playing any g-’

Arthur's eyes had gone wide with a sudden revelation.

‘Mitsuki!’

Arthur went to run past them up the stairs but Napoleon caught him by the arms.

‘Damn it all, let go Leon! I swear to all of you this isn't what you think. That bird was-’

‘Choose your next words very carefully Arthur.’

Comtes eyes were cold and voice commanding.

‘That bird was someone I had spent a few nights with years ago before Mitsuki ever arrived. She had gone overseas, family issues or something I honestly don't remember but she's been gone for years and just got back and-’

‘And she's been gone long enough she had no idea.’

‘Exactly! I was coming back from my publishers when she just bloody well threw herself into my arms and started kissing me. I mean do you all really not know me better than that? I've answered enough of your questions, I need to see Mitsuki.’

‘Let him go Napoleon but Arthur, you best be telling the truth, for your own sake if not for hers.’

Comte recalled that the whole mansion was tense that night and they all took turns keeping an ear out for any hint of trouble from a respectable distance. After a few hours Leonardo had come down smirking and declaring that ‘any screaming now wouldn't be from anger’. It had only been about eight months prior and the emotions that just the memory of that incident brought forward caused Comte to smash his glass on the top rail littering it with glass.

She's too good and pure for him. Forgiving him after hurting her like that even if it was unintentional, and now be giving him a child after it all.

Comte sighed and looked down at the broken glass.

Well now, that wasn't very mature of me. I should be happy that she forgave him and they're able to continue to be so happy…

Comte lifted the whiskey bottle to his lips, drinking back the last of its contents. He looked up into the night sky smiling as his thoughts returned to the afternoon.

‘Don't you think that this is all a bit much?’

‘Whatever do you mean?'

‘I mean you've bought multiple things from every store we've been in today! I didn't need those new dresses and on top of that you're also spoiling this baby before it even gets here!’

‘Nonsense Cherie, I could never dote on you or the child enough to ever come close to spoiling either of you. You deserve all of it and more.’

‘Really I-'

Suddenly they had both heard soft laughter from nearby. When Comte turned around there was an older woman standing there smiling fondly at them.

‘Just let him do as he pleases dearie, if your husband's anything like mine was nothing you say will deter him.’

‘Oh but he’s-’

‘Listen to her words of wisdom ma Cherie, plus have you ever been able to convince me before?’

‘Well no…’

‘If it makes you feel better dear , think of it as payment for the hard work soon to come.’

‘Who are you bothering now?’

The older woman clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.

‘I’m not bothering anyone, I was just telling the young dear here to accept as many gifts as her husband desired to provide her and their child with.’

The old gentleman who had approached quickly cast an appraising look over Mitsuki then Comte noticed his lips turning up into a faint yet fond smile.

‘A word of advice son, pace yourself unless you don't mind spending all your wealth spoiling them.’

‘See he agrees with me, you're spoiling them already.’

‘I still say you should let him.’

‘Hahaha of course you would, come my dear leave the young couple to enjoy themselves.’

‘If you insist, oh but wait! Congratulations to you both.’

‘Comte, why didn't you correct them?’

‘Hmmm? Is the thought of being married to me that horrible?’

‘No, of course not! I didn't mean-’

‘Haha it’s alright cherie, honestly they just seemed happy and besides it didn't cause any harm’

‘I suppose not.’

It was nice to dream if only for a brief moment. If I hadn't dismissed my feelings, not been afraid to lose what we did have then maybe…

“Comte?”

The sudden voice startled Comte and he turned towards the door.

“Cherie, what are you doing up so late?”

“Sleeping is becoming incredibly difficult lately and this heat isn't helping. What about you, could you not sleep?”

I wish it were that simple.

“Something like that, come let me take you back inside.”

“No, I'd prefer to stay out here. The breeze is really cool and-”

“Cherie don't-”

“Ouch!”

Comtes warning came too late as Mitsuki placed her hand on top of the shards of broken glass. Blood began to trickle down her palm and fingers momentarily freezing him to the spot.

“I'm so sorry, Comte! I should have been more careful.”

Comte said nothing, his gaze fixed on the trails of blood while the rest of him desperately fought the intense burning in his throat.

“I should go and get-”

“No!”

“Comte?”

Comte closed the small distance between them staring down at Mitsukis bloodied hand for a moment before lifting it upwards.

Maybe it wouldn't have to be a dream.

Comte lifted Mitsukis hand higher to his lips and lapped at her blood before sinking his fangs into her soft flesh. The taste of her blood on his tongue as it passed over it and down his throat was heavenly and sweet. He felt her knees begin to give and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist as he-

“Comte!?”

Comte shook his head slightly as he was pulled back to reality, he held Mitsukis hand dangerously close to his lips. She was looking at him with wide eyes filled with fear and confusion.

I just need another minute... to compose myself.

Comte took his free hand and removed a shared of glass from Mitsukis palm before removing a handkerchief and pressing it into her slightly trembling fingers.

“There doesn't appear to be any more glass in the wound.”

“Thank you for checking.”

Comte could tell Mitsuki was relaxing again and so he released her hand and started walking towards the door.

“Wait here cherie. I'll go and fetch a first aid kit and send Arthur or Sebastian out with it. We wouldn't want you to wander into any of the other residents like that.”

“Alright.”

Comte left the balcony without another word or a backward glance. His throat was burning out of control and his mind was racing.

That was too close, how could I have scared her like that! She looked so frightened and-

“Luv? Oh Comte, sorry old chap I thought I smelled-”

Comte looked down at his hand and noticed he had traces of Mitsukis blood on him.

“She's fine Arthur, just a bad cut. I was actually on my way to get a first aid kit then find you or Sebastian.”

“Where is she?”

“On the balcony.”

Comte watched Arthur head off down the hallway towards the balcony for a moment then continued on to his own room where he locked the door behind him.

Arthur found Mitsuki standing on the balcony cradling her hand, one of Comtes handkerchiefs pressed against it.

“What happened luv?”

“Arthur! I just cut myself on some glass that's all.”

Arthur took in the scene before him and put together with what Mitsuki told him of her and Contes outing and the way he looked it made his eyebrows furrow.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

“Yes, Comte took the shard of glass out and then gave me his handkerchief.”

Arthur let go of a breath he wasn't aware he was holding as he inspected Mitsukis hand. Finding no shards he began to wrap her palm.

“Once the bleeding has mostly stopped I'll clean and wrap it properly for you. It shouldn't take long, now come here.”

Arthur pulled Mitsuki towards him, placing a kiss to the top of her belly before turning her away from him and wrapping his arms tightly around her. They stood there in silence for awhile when Mitsuki suddenly tilted her head upwards.

“Was Comte ok?”

“Why do you ask luv?”

“He seemed….hurt.”

Arthur sighed remembering the fevered look in Comtes eyes and glimpse of his fangs he had caught during their brief exchange.

“It's nothing that won't heal with time.”

“Are you sure?”

Arthur looked down at Mitsuki and saw the concern in her eyes. He wasn't sure at all but he couldn't bear to tell her that so he smiled and kissed the top of her nose.

“The old chap is stronger than he looks so don't worry about him, just focus on this right now.”

Arthur moved his hands to caress over Mitsukis belly and she laughed.

“Alright Arthur, I trust you.”

I really do hope his willpower holds out but regardless… I know we'll both do what we need to do to keep you safe.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire comte #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur

20 notes · View notes

inafieldofdaisies · 1 year ago

Text

Happy Halloween from Calahan who is taking over the cult indefinitely (a.k.a. WIP Wednesday bcs I'm late, kinda) | "Sinners Welcome" Drabble

I had this idea floating around about doing an edit of Cal cosplaying as Joseph for Halloween, so here y'all go. I'm just so proud of it. I went as far as designing his tattoos myself as graphics to use. Below we got the story that goes with the edit, I will be posting it on AO3 soon, too. It gets nsfw towards the end because John do be sinnin'.

"Donovan.", Whitehorse called out as soon as Sabrina walked in through the door, a part of her feeling glad he was saving her from the compulsory morning small talk with Nancy. "Morning, Sheriff.", she sent him a small smile, noting the deep frown he wore for such an early hour. "Walk with me." He didn't wait for her to reply, heading towards the small kitchen in the Sheriff's Department. Silence took over as he waited for the coffee machine to grant him, if she had to guess, not his first dose of caffeine for the day. "Is everything okay?" "You're with Rookie today.", he mumbled as he took a sip from his mug, "Pratt called in sick, and I need someone to keep an eye on him." She nodded, "Fine by me." "Good, good.", his voice lowered, "To be frank, Hudson refused after hearing where they'd be headed." "Jesus, boss… you're making it sound like me and Gray are about to go to war.", Calahan poked his head into the room, lips twisting into a cheeky smile. Whitehorse's eyes narrowed as he smoothed down his mustache, "I'm more worried about you starting a war, Rookie." A snort left the younger Deputy, "Not on my to-do list, no worries." "I've heard that before.", he turned to Sabrina, "Donovan, just… try to keep him in check, will ya? Make sure he doesn't kill anyone." Calahan sent her a 'can you believe this guy' look over their boss' shoulder, "Will do." Whitehorse sighed, "The last thing I need is John Seed showing up out front, and makin' demands again. Am I clear, Rookie? Stay out of trouble." "As clear as this fine morning, sir.", the words were paired with a dramatic salute. "It's fucking overcast today, Rookie."

Sabrina bit back a laugh as he made a hasty escape before Calahan could raise his blood presure even more than he already had. "Kid." "What?", to an outsider the innocent look in Hartley's eyes would have been convincing enough, but by then she knew better, especially with the overall satisfied demeanor he had going on even after being prematurely scolded by Whitehorse. "Where are we going?" The smile that took over his face promised trouble, "Payin' good old Joe a visit." It's all he provided as an explanation before he spun on his heel and gestured for her to follow him. "I didn't get a coffee." There was an extra bounce to his step, strange giddiness, and he didn't even bother to stop when he muttered, "Already on it, Gray. It's waiting for you in the car. Chop-chop."

Minutes later, they were pulling at Joseph's Compound, the music Calahan had playing in the cruiser drawing the attention of the two Eden's Gate members manning the front gates to it. The fact they rested their hands on their holsters as he shut off the ignition wasn't lost on Sabrina. "Cal?" By the looks of it, he wasn't sharing her concerns about things going sideways on trigger-happy Peggie territory, "Yeah?" "Try not to make them angry… for me?" He ran a hand through his dirty blond hair before nodding quickly, "I will try my best, partner." She knew it was all she could really get from him as a promise, especially considering his previous run-ins with Joseph's men. There was a reason why Hudson had refused to tag along with him for the day - avoiding paperwork or having to talk him down from the edge. Chances were, their routine visit could result in a fight breaking out, punches being thrown or worse. Sabrina exited the car, following Hartley towards the entrance of the Compound as he strutted like he had no care in the world, headed straight for the cultists.

"Joseph called us in.", he announced and crossed his hands over his chest, regarding both men with a bored expression. "Morning.", she added, refusing to buckle under the scrutiny that somehow had ended up on her instead of Calahan. "Ask for Mercy.", one of the bearded men grumbled out, dark eyes revealing little as he extended his hand to point down the road behind him. "Well, that didn't sound menacing at all.", Sabrina remarked under her breath as she and Hartley followed the muddy path surrounded by fences on both sides on foot, and judging by how trodden it was, large processions from and to sermons weren't uncommon. The observation was just another awful reminder of how big of an influence the cult had, how many it had sucked in with its practices and empty promises. "Fucking weirdos. There better be a woman named Mercy waitin' or I'm-"

"You promised to stay calm.", she reminded him, gaze trained ahead in anticipation of anything malicious after the man's cryptic words, "I take it that you don't know who we're looking for?" Calahan snorted, "Not like I and Joseph's many wives hang out at the same spots. Hell, most of them don't even dare to look me in the eye, let alone come near me, like I'd seduce them just by breathing in their vicinity." "Rubbin' off your sin on them?", she asked jokingly. "Sins. Plural. I contain multitudes, Gray." Sabrina could feel everyone staring as two advanced ahead, a couple of houses and other small buildings coming into view, with a church towering over in the distance. There was a decent crowd around the spacious property despite the early hour. Men and women all dressed alike - in worn-out clothes bearing the symbol of their leader, the red Eden's Gate cross in stark contrast with their muted appearances. In the sea of beige and wary faces something captured her attention - a woman in a white vintage looking dress moved with conviction, but instead of coming to them and sparing them the hassle of looking for 'Mercy', she aimed for a redheaded man Sabrina had only seen on printed materials of the cult.

"That one, I know,", Calahan nodded towards him, coming to an abrupt stop and leaning in to whisper, "Jacob Seed, grumpy son of a bitch. Last person, I'd ask for directions, though." Without doubt, the oldest Seed did have a serious, over-disciplined aura about him, far different from the easy-going, dangerously charming act John put on in his attempts at recruiting new people for his brother's Project. Sabrina bit her lip as the woman with curly blonde hair tilted her head to look up at the man towering several inches over her, her demeanor relaxed in spite of the way Jacob was regarding her - like he wanted nothing to do with the interaction. As if he could sense the two sets of eyes watching them, his icy stare shifted from her to the Deputies standing a couple of feet away before he said something quietly and nodded in their direction. "Good morning, Jakey.", Calahan raised his hand in a mock wave, and the Seed brother sent him a frown before heading off the way the woman had come from without returning his greeting.

At the same time, she progressed forward, a friendly grin brightening her features as she came to a halt in front of Hartley, definitely not keeping a purposeful distance like the rest of Joseph's followers, "Deputies." He appeared completely taken aback by the bold move, especially with her deep brown eyes set on him. In ways she couldn't fault him, he had a weak spot for women, even more when he became their sole focus. Sabrina was the first to speak, "We were told to ask for Mercy." "That would be me. Mercedes Sibley. If you would follow me…", she spun around with that, uttering quiet hellos to people and leading them past the church where a house resided spaced out from the rest marked with phrases in latin. Sins, to be exact. Nothing was written above the doorway of this one, Sabrina realized. Mercedes pushed the door to the house open with her and Hartley close on her heels.

She wasn't sure what to expect from what she deemed as the home of a cult leader - somehow the plain walls in need of repaint adorned by a couple of portraits and newspaper clippings felt mundane, too normal. The short hallway led into an ordinary looking living room, where Mercedes made a right turn towards one of the open doorways, announcing in a far gentler voice as she reached it and moved aside so they can pass through first, "The Deputies are here, Father." Joseph Seed, the man that had built a giant statue of himself and pronounced himself as God's mouthpiece, sat in one of the chairs at that small kitchen table while his older brother stood nearby as if on guard duty. The gun and knife holster strapped to his tight certainly hinted at that. "Good morning, my name is Deputy Donovan, my colleague and I are here on a call.", Sabrina explained while Calahan remained silent, an unreadable expression coming over his features when his blue eyes set on the 'Father'.

"Shouldn't we call John, let him handle things?", Jacob grunted out, pretending like they weren't even in the room as Mercedes moved past him and resumed a position behind his brother. To Calahan's credit, he made none of the expected remarks, his serious demeanor beginning to worry Sabrina to an extent. "Somebody broke in, brother.", Mercedes glanced in the oldest Seed's direction, his gaze narrowing at the last word she had said in a sickly sweet tone, "Does it make sense to call in an attorney for that?" Joseph's eyes bounced between the Deputies, finally coming to rest on Hartley's, "Sit, Mercy, my child. There's no need to call John at the moment." Mercedes complied by slipping into the chair next to his, silently hinting for Sabrina to do the same. She cleared her throat, settling into her seat across from the woman before pulling out her report notebook and laying it down on the table, "How about we start from the beginning then?"

Calahan loomed behind her, hand grasping the back of her chair, standing watch just like Jacob was for his brother. Joseph pushed his sunglasses up his nose before leaning forward, hands clasped in front of him, "I went to bed last night, and nothing was out of place. After waking up this morning, I noticed a couple of things were missing." Sabrina noted his words down, tapping her pen on the page, trying to avoid any unnecessary eye contact, "Things as in?" She couldn't imagine how stuffy the room would feel if John had been there too to make demands, possess the conversation. How fully outnumbered they'd be then. "Personal belongings.", Jacob cut in. "We would need a list of anything that's been taken, Mr. Seed.", Sabrina sent him a quick glance, just in time to catch his eyes darting to Mercedes. Interesting. "My old Bible,", Joseph began, lips pursed in disdain, "an engraved belt, a black custom blazer and… my rosary. I believe that's all."

"Okay.", it was a strange list of items to be stolen, but Sabrina didn't say anything as she jotted down each item, "Any sign of forced entry, or better yet, can we take a look around ourselves?" "I still think we should call John.", Jacob grumbled out again, making Mercedes sigh quietly. "He doesn't lock any of the doors.", she said eventually. Calahan snorted at that, whatever energy for acting decent running its course, "So, the perp just… entered?" "Which is still a crime, is it not?", Mercedes asked slowly. "Technically, yes.", he chuckled, "But, Father here is making it a hundred times easier on thieves. So frankly, anyone living on the property could be a suspect. He's lucky nobody has done other serious crimes upon his person while he sleeps. A slit throat for example." "I trust my children, they would never steal from me, let alone hurt me.", Joseph argued. "Do you, now?", Calahan's voice took an edge, "Can they say the same about you, Father?"

"So much darkness,", the Father's eyes rose up to look over Sabrina's shoulder, "is trapped within you, child, looking for a way out. My family could help you, set you free from it." "I'd take no help from a man that doesn't even know how to protect his own home. If I were you, I'd worry more about the thief lurking amongst your people instead of my poor blackened soul… after all, stealing is a sin, is it not?" Jacob came closer, "It was an outsider, we are certain of it. So just do your job and find them." Sabrina nodded as she closed her notebook, "We will take a look around then." Mercedes rose up with that, "I can show you two-" "Sit down, Mercedes.", annoyance seeped into the command as Jacob strode past the table and out of the kitchen, calling out for Sabrina to follow him. He pointed at each door that led outside, the old floorboards groaning beneath his feet at almost every step he took. Calahan stayed behind in the kitchen doorway as she took notes, leaving her to ask questions and navigate the hostile waters.

"Your brother sleeps where?" His chin lifted up towards a doorway that led out of the living room, "Down that hall." "Heavy or light sleeper?" Jacob crossed his hands over his chest, impatience oozing from his body language, "How is this relevant?" "Considering I'm trying to determine most likely point of entry… it would be helpful. If you have better things to do, Mr. Seed, I'm sure Ms. Sibley won't mind taking it from here." His jaw ticked at the suggestion, "Light." Sabrina focus zeroed on the backdoor, and she walked back and forth a couple of times while scanning for any potential evidence the thief might have left behind, "Would you mind…" "I mind." It took a lot of willpower for her to not roll her eyes, reminding herself the quicker they wrap up the report, the sooner her and Calahan would be rid of dealing with the Seeds.

"It would be helpful if somebody with different stature-" Jacob repeated her movements before she could finish her sentence, then turned back to her with a 'are you happy now?' expression. "Thank you.", she lifted her attention from her notebook, making sure to pick her next words carefully, "Your brother claims the perp entered the house during the night while he was asleep." At his nod she continued, "And his floors aren't exactly-" His icy blue gaze narrowed at that, "What's your point, Deputy Donovan?" "I assume the items were in the room where he sleeps?" "Yes.", a hand scratched his bearded cheek. "And he didn't hear anything?" "Are you accusing my brother of lying?" It was at that point she began to wonder if John in fact had been around, he would have been easier to deal with, or he would have ended up avoiding answering her questions even more, especially with how cagey Jacob acted, like she wasn't there to help, but rather arrest Joseph.

"I'm not accusing Mr. Seed of anything. In an investigation every bit of information is useful, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem. You called us, I'm just trying to do my job here." "Mercedes called you. I had nothing to do with this.", he corrected her coldly. Sabrina spared a quick look in Calahan's direction, finding him watching the two silently with a dark smirk from his previous spot, before she pulled the door leading out of the back of the house open. Her eyes remained casted downward, and she could feel Jacob standing close as he peeked over her shoulder at what had captured her interest. "Do many visitors use this door usually?" "No." At his confirmation, she crouched down, taking a picture of a fresh footprint left in the mud and measuring it with her hand roughly, she hushed the part of her telling her the size of the shoes the thief wore seemed to match Calahan's.

"So this is the point of entry?", he inquired for once as she got back up. "It would seem so.", she pocketed her notebook, "Anything of significance back there?" "That way leads off the property." Sabrina carefully avoided stepping over the only evidence left behind, her sights set on examining the path the perp had most likely took after snatching Joseph's belongings. "I will need to take a look then.", she didn't expect for the oldest Seed to follow, but he did, the crunch of leaves and twigs signaling his steady pace behind her. The silence only broken by the occasional chirping of birds around them was unnerving, even more paired with the fact she was being shadowed by an armed individual who wasn't exactly keen on her and Calahan's presence at his brother's Compound. Yet she refused to allow him the satisfaction of knowing he was making her uncomfortable, she had no doubt he would enjoy every second of it.

"I haven't seen you around before.", Jacob mumbled in an even tone as she advanced forward, watching her every step carefully as the path pretty much disappeared into an overgrown grass. If it was anyone else, his attempt at small talk would have made her smile, she'd probably would have tried to ease the person's unease at it, instead she kept her answer as short as possible, the same way he had before, "You folks don't exactly have a habit of asking for our help." A noise of agreement left him at the same time her boot caught on what she guessed was an exposed tree root, making her trip as she navigated the terrain soaked by the rain from the night prior. The dreaded faceplant never came thanks to the hand that wrapped around her upper arm and steadied her, followed by a dark chuckle. "Careful now, Sabrina." The fact he knew her first name despite remarking how he'd never seen her before was a red flag on its own and confirmed he knew more than he let on, the choice of using it at that exact moment though, was what gave her pause.

She held his stare in defiance before shaking off his hold, "I can handle myself." The bored expression swooped back in place as he lifted his shoulder, "Be my guest." Sabrina covered the remaining distance to the property line in a rush, worrying about what would await her upon returning to the house, if Calahan would have managed to keep his cool as promised. To her relief Jacob settled for keeping any further comments to himself, trekking a few feet away behind her until they reached the fence that was meant to keep intruders out. Or members trying to flee, in… A well-thought cut in the chainlink greeted them. The sought after point of entry and escape. "You're better at this than expected.", he remarked quietly, pulling at the fence as his face scrunched up into a frown. Sabrina pursed her lips at the offhand compliment before snapping a couple of pictures, "Not sure if I should say thank you or feel insulted."

All she got as reply was an unreadable look before he let go of the mesh the thief had snipped at to gain entry on the cult's land. "So perp goes through all this trouble, risks getting caught by your brother… for a belt, blazer and old bible?" "Locals have been know to do far stranger things to Eden's Gate property." "Still… are you certain nothing else is missing? Anything beside your patience, that is.", the last part she uttered out in a low voice, but judging by his reaction he heard it. All she could describe him as was appearing insulted at the bold but very true observation, "I'm absolutely patient." She raised an eyebrow and set off towards the way they came from, "Sure." "Far more patient than your partner back there.", the 'partner' part he said as an insult, clearly thinking as highly of Calahan as the young Deputy did of him. Just when she was convinced he would slip back into avoiding conversation, he spoke up again, hesitation lurking behind his words, "Do you think he was lying?"

It was quite obvious who he meant, still she settled for a simple, "Who?" "Joseph." "About which part?" The idea anyone, let alone someone so close to the Father was questioning something he claimed had happened, was certainly an unexpected outcome. By then Jacob had caught up, falling into step beside her, "Being asleep. Considering you were a detective…" "You read my records or something, Mr. Seed?" "Something like that." Sabrina sneaked a fleeting glance in his direction, "You actually want my professional opinion or is this some tactic you picked up from John?" "I want the truth." A sigh broke free as her eyes came to rest on the house that was drawing closer and closer, "Well, do you think your brother would sleep through a person entering his home, no, worse, his bedroom… rummaging through the space in the dark for the items while leaving no traces behind?"

"It was a compliment.", he muttered when they reached the backyard and he pushed his way inside first, his stony demeanor returning at once. Whatever doubts were plaguing him were none of her business, her sole focus as she followed in his wake was making sure Hartley was okay and staying true to his promise of peace. "Cal." Calahan had hardly moved from where she had left him and he gave her a puzzled look before asking, "We done here?" "I need like 5 minutes.", her smile was forced when she entered the kitchen where only Mercedes was still seated, while Joseph and Jacob were nowhere to be found. "He won't be pressing any charges…" Sabrina shifted in place, "We haven't established any suspects yet, Ms. Sibley." "I'm just saving you time, Deputy.", the blonde got up with that, smoothing down her dress, "John has decided to take it from here, figure out who's done it and make sure the incident doesn't repeat."

"You heard her, Gray.", Calahan added behind her, "We're off then, miss." He sent Mercedes one of his signature winks before storming out of the house, and to her credit she appeared completely unfazed in comparison to the usual response he got from women, "I will see you out." Sabrina nodded and set out after her, meeting up with Hartley who was waiting for her outside by the entrance. With a final wave from the woman, the two were off on their way back to their cruiser, quickly becoming the center of attention once more. A couple of feet down the dirt path she spotted another familiar face that stared at her anytime she would turn on her TV or drive through town. The man that had decided to take over the 'investigation', believing he was more capable. John was engaged in a hushed conversation with Jacob, pausing whatever he was saying to steal a look at her.

"I feel like we're animals in a zoo." Calahan let out a chuckle, "Sadly no petting, though. Speaking off…" To her horror, his voice rose as they passed the two Seed brothers, drawing in even more eyes to them. "Anyone feelin' like sinnin' tonight?", he hollered cheerfully, "Halloween party at the Spread Eagle. Girls, I'd even buy you a drink. Dancing's on the menu, too, followed by other activities if you're lucky." The dark expression that came over John's face was enough for her hands to wrap around his arm and squeeze his bicep in a warning as she whispered under her breath, "You promised to behave." "I behaved plenty.", his smirk was full of pride, "Plus, look at Johnny, I'm pretty certain I saw a vein in his forehead pop, I need to get closer to see-" She ushered him along, knowing things were bound to end well if he and John were to butt heads right then and there, "Follow the path, kid." To the youngest Seed credit, he refrained from giving them a piece of his mind, and Sabrina wasn't sure if it was thanks to the crows and his brother watching his every move or because he was planning another appearance in front of the Sheriff's and making Whitehorse's day hell.

"Do you think I'd get lots of candy, Rin-Rin?", Savannah asked with an excited smile as she peeked over the back of the couch. Sabrina sank in the empty space next to her, and her sister snuggled into her embrace, "Even if you don't.", her voice lowered like she was about to share a little secret, "I hid a stash for you someplace in the house." Excitement shone in her green eyes, "My favorite candy?" "Of course, pumpkin." "You know, bats use echolocation to find their food?" Sabrina released a chuckle, "Then it's even more fitting." A knock sounded, making her rise up from her seat, curiosity swooping at who was stopping by when Ms. Darcy wasn't meant to be there for a good couple of hours. She swung the door open, finding Calahan leaning against the doorframe with one of his usual grins, a black duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, a familiar pair of yellow tinted shades covering his eyes.

"Hey." "Kid?, she gave him a confused look as he pushed his way inside, "I thought we were meeting at the bar?" "Tiny!", he greeted Savannah, and before he could blink, a blur of red curls was rushing at him, and he scooped her sister up like she weighted nothing. "Uncle Cal,", small hands came to rest on his shoulders, as her mood brightened even more at the surprise visit, "did you come to see my costume?" "Of course, Sav. You're going to be the cutest bat." He lowered her back onto the ground, turning to Sabrina with a determined expression, "Speaking of costumes, Gray…" There was twinkle in his baby blues as he regarded her, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was just as excited for the holiday as Savannah. "You're yet to tell me what you're even going as.", she raised an eyebrow in a question, having no idea what he would actually pick. His lips twisted into a smirk, "A beloved character, if you will."

"Oh?" "And I kind of need your help… seeing how you're the one with artistic skills, especially compared to little old me." Sabrina nodded, "What are we talking?" Calahan's response was to chuck the duffel bag at her, and she caught it swiftly before dropping it on the floor and unzipping it to see what he had brought along as materials. Her hands lifted a pair of dark gray jeans that laid on top, covering the rest of the items inside, and she needed a moment to process what she was staring at. A belt engraved with the Eden's Gate cross. A black blazer. A well-worn bible that looked like it was close to falling apart. No, not a bible, rather than a Joseph's version of it. A rosary was at the bottom, confirming her suspicions further. "Calahan.", Sabrina muttered in disbelief as her gaze rose up to his, registering the sheepish expression he wore at the discovery.

"Yeah?" "It was you." "No comment." "I-", she shook her head, "I have no idea what to say." "Say you will help me by drawing a couple of tattoos for me?", he paired the words with puppy dog eyes for good measure. "Jesus, Cal." "You're in troubleeee.", Savannah giggled behind him, completely oblivious to the fact her beloved uncle had committed a crime, broke the law when he was supposed to enforce it. "Pretty, please?", his voice dipped, "I went through so much s-", he stopped himself before a curse slipped out, "stuff to get them… I'd draw the tats myself, but well… angles aren't exactly friend, and I feel like this look deserves more, you know?" "And Whitehorse?" "You heard Mercy, there's no case for us to worry about. Joseph can, uh, fluff off." Sabrina sighed, "I can't believe this."

He shimmied towards her to pick up the bag, "That a yes?" "I-" "Say yes. I knoooow, wrong brother.", he tried mimicking John's usual tone from his broadcasts, successfully making her laugh as her frown melted away. "You're going to owe me one." Calahan made a cross over his heart, "Goes without sayin'." She took a deep breath before pointing at the hallway that led upstairs, "Bedroom then, I will be right up." "Not something I expected to hear from you.", he wiggled his eyebrows before disappearing up the stairs. "Sav, I will help uncle Cal with his costume for the party, I won't be long, okay?" Her sister nodded excitedly, a rush coursing through her system like she had already gone through the candy reserve hidden for her, "I can't wait to see his." Sabrina winced at the idea Calahan most likely planned on going shirtless that evening and showing off as much as he could, "Behave while I'm gone, okay? If you need anything, just holler." "Okay.", Savannah's attention shifted back to the TV, and Sabrina rushed out of the living room and towards her bedroom.

Hartley had made himself at home in one of her armchairs, jumping to his feet as soon as she came into view. "Ready?" Sabrina rubbed her forehead as she rummaged through the drawer that held all body paints she had left from previous Halloweens, "Don't expect miracles." "Want to see my sharpie rendition of Joe's tattoos? Then we can talk about failures.", he asked before lifting his shirt over his head, "I showered before coming over, by the way." Sabrina gestured to the chair in front of her vanity as she selected what brushes she might need, "You're a lot, you know that?" "Just try not to fall in love.", Hartley added jokingly as he shuffled over, muscles flexing as he sat down in his designated spot. "That won't be an issue." Her disbelief made him laugh out loud before he muttered, "It's a thing. Like for real." "Then maybe Mary May would tonight?"

"Doubtful.", his tone became sober for a second, regret swooping in, then another grin erased his scowl, "I found you pictures." Sabrina released a dramatic sigh of relief, "Good, because it ain't like I've seen Joseph naked, so you'd be getting generic tattoos without references. You're lucky you're not getting prison ones, consider you committed a crime last night." "Pfft, he has extras of everything I took. The only reason he called us in was because he couldn't believe someone had the guts to enter his actual house." She didn't bother to point out the bible looked treasured, somewhat irreplaceable based on its state. The fact Joseph might value the items wasn't going to change Hartley's mind and make him return what he stole, not even because of the risk he might get into trouble with Whitehorse, but simply for the idea he refused to bow down to any of the Seeds. He pulled out his phone, presenting a couple of shots from sermons the Project no doubt used to promote themselves.

"You know, for a cult that hates technology and sinning, they sure are relying hard on both to lure people in…", Sabrina uttered out, beginning with a crudely done, faded reddish tattoo on his right clavicle, spelling 'Sloth'. Calahan snorted, "Have you seen John? Fucker is the very definition of honey trap, then you have Faith… Hell, the little lady from this morning certainly was one too." "Both brothers were acting strange around her." "Jacob?", he huffed at the idea, "Ain't no way. John, I can picture being frustrated as fuck and losing his mind at the fact his brother banned sex." "Whatever you say." "All that talk of sin, like come on.", he argued, "Folks are talkin' about him and his life before the Project…" "I suspect I don't wanna know." His grin remained in place, fully fueled by the fact he was getting what he wanted while gossiping about the family that was a thorn in the County's side, "Oakley and I made a bet after hearin' some interesting things from Addie. $50 says he has a sex room at the ranch Joe knows nothing about."

"And how exactly would you confirm that?", Sabrina's next step was painting a black-and-white crown adorned by the cult's cross and to Calahan's credit, even with all the unleashed energy within him, he remained seated without fidgeting too much. "No clue.", he began slowly, sounding like he was actually considering the idea, "I ain't takin' one for the team, that's for sure. No idea who would and how successful they'd be, either." "That would be a sacrifice." Hartley groaned at that, "He most definitely chants 'Yes' over and over as he comes. Guaranteed. Can you imagine it? I can't picture sentencing anyone to that torture." "I'd rather not. Sit still,", she warned as she began working on another tattoo, "Can we change the subject?" "What? Johnny fuckin' ain't your cup of tea? Because I have more thoughts on the matter." "You're on thin ice, kid." "Fine, fine.", he rolled his eyes, "He stopped by the station, you know… To his shit luck, Whitehorse had left already, almost caused him to have a meltdown before his actual scheduled meltdown."

"What about?" A laugh rumbled his chest despite her previous warning, gaze filling with a prideful gleam, "Me inviting his precious members to party at Mary May's. How I was spreadin' my sinful ideas without any shame. Told him, I'd be spreading more than ideas tonight and flipped him off before I left." "Jesus." "He's probably complaining to him still. 'That sinner, how dare he! And why can't I have some, too, God?'", he went for another attempt at imitating John's way of speaking. The next tattoo that spelled 'Lust' had quite the unfortunate placement, making Sabrina back away to examine her work up until that point. "Abs are next. It might be too far, even for us." He didn't appear bothered by the idea at all when he rose up to give her better access, "Yes, m'am. Paint me like your local cult leader, not one of your french girls."

"Hilarious.", she shook her head at his amusement, "When I woke up today, the last thing I imagined having to get close and personal with your lower regions." "Oh, come on. There are worse views. Plus, I'm wearing pants, you ain't even getting the full Hartley tour." "I guess that's true.", a real tattoo above his left hip drew her attention despite trying to remain focused on her task, and a giggle broke free as she made out what it said in a convoluted font, "Cal?" "Gray?", he mimicked her intonation, eyes meeting hers. "Does this spell what I think it does?" "Oh, yeah." It took a lot for her to keep her balance or her hand steady as another laugh made it past her lips, "But, but… why?" He shrugged, "Because it's the truth. And fyi, this isn't what I usually get from girls, you're kinda bruising my ego." "I mean, it does match Joseph's 'Lust', if nothing else."

"Fucking hypocrite.", he muttered out loud as Sabrina made a sign for him to spin around with her finger and sit down again as she moved onto his back. "I did get a feeling he wasn't being truthful about his whereabouts when 'the thief' broke in." "Entered, all that was missing was a 'Welcome, come on in, Cal' sign'.", he corrected her, "It was the middle of the night, and the house was empty, Gray. He was lying through his teeth to you, and to his brother." "I figured as much." "Speaking of…", another sin that in the reference image looked like it was inked on by a child adorned Calahan's skin, "How was trekking on your own with Jacob? Not many would dare go off with him." "Not like I asked him to come.", she explained slowly, her mind drifting back to their interaction, his cryptic words, and strange behavior. The fact she was avoiding answering the question wasn't lost on him, "Well? I'm waiting."

"Like pulling teeth, no idea why he even volunteered to tag along when the whole time he was rushing to get me out of his hair as soon as possible." Calahan scratched at his stubble, "I can make a good guess, but you won't like my theory." "I suspect as much." "I will keep it to myself then." "A first." "You're welcome, it physically hurts me to hold in my jokes sometimes." A couple of minutes later, most of the simple tattoos she could copy to bring Calahan's planned look together were done. "Damn.", he exlaimed as he examined himself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, twisting as much as he could so he could see his back as well, "I knew I shouldn't have attempted to do these myself." Sabrina laughed, "That would have been a look." "Thank you, Gray.", Hartley gave her a half-hug, staying mindful of smudging his temporary ink, "Now Whitehorse's inevitable lecture would be worth it, truly."

"I'm honestly surprised you didn't steal Joseph's underwear, commit to the bit all the way through." A snort left him, "Please, I have my limits. Glasses are a little gift from Addie and exhibit A to him not telling the truth, because I so would have snatched his sunnies, too. The jeans are mine.", a shudder racked his body, "For all I know Joe likes going commando." "Thanks for the visual." Calahan feigned a bow, "I live to serve. Or to scar people, depending on the occasion." "I need to help Sav get into her costume, I promised to take her trick-or-treating before the party." "Ah, man, I'm tempted to tag along. Think people will give me candy?", he plopped down onto her bed with a dreamy sigh. "Considering your persistence and charm, I'd guess yes. But…" "But what?" Sabrina pursed her lips, "It might be best to stay back, minimize how many people would see you before it's even showtime. Word's bound to get to John or Joseph himself."

"True.", he nodded, "Mind if I stick around, then we can leave together?" "Of course. And if you're good, you might even get some candy from Sav's reserve. Relive your childhood to the fullest before getting the adult version of Halloween." His eyes lit up at that, "You got yourself a deal." "Just avoid making Ms. Darcy shoot you by mistake if she gets here while we're gone."

After taking Savannah out to show off her bat costume she had personally worked on in making what she called 'more realistic' and returning with enough candy that her back-up stash had become unnecessary and was gifted to Calahan, Sabrina bid her and Ms. Darcy goodbye for the evening. The latter had joked how she wouldn't mind Eden's Gate if the younger Deputy was in charge. "First thing, Darce asked me was if I had forgotten my shirt,", Hartley smoothed down the stolen blazer that no doubt would come off eventually and was the only thing he wore to cover his bare chest, "and how at least I had something on to not catch my death in the cold." "She's too cute sometimes.", Sabrina retorted as she got into her Bronco and buckled in. "Yeah, reminds me of my Nana, but…", he wiggled his eyebrows, dropping Joseph's bible and rosary in his lap before he leaned back into his seat and added, "then she told me how the ladies would sure appreciate the view."

Their laughter filled the truck as she pulled out of her driveway, an advertisement about the party at the Spread Eagle coming on the local radio station she usually had playing. "Sinners welcome." closed the message, and Calahan gave Sabrina a wink when she snuck a quick look in his direction. "Yes, it was my idea. A little fuck you to John." "Mary May's paying you for those gems or?" He chuckled, "I suggested she could also use me as a model, do some shots with my renditions of the Seed brothers." "Oh my god." "She shot the idea down, sadly. Maybe next Halloween.", he drummed his hands on the dashboard, "Good news is I'm getting free drinks tonight as a thank you for helping her decorate and set shit up." "You plan on finally doing something about your crush tonight?" "What crush?" "Very funny." "Speaking of getting laid… want me to be your wingman?" Her nose wrinkled at the offer, "I'd pass on that."

"I'm like the best wingman you can have, just saying." She pulled into one of the empty parking spots across the Spread Eagle, "I'm not sleeping with anyone tonight, Calahan." Hartley jumped off the truck, bible in one hand, while the other had the rosary wrapped around his palm a couple of times. He leaned against the door, thankfully lowering his voice so the other patrons that were pilling to go inside the bar wouldn't overhear him, "If you do change your mind, just say the word. I'm going to find you someone worthy. A stallion to ride." She let out a groan as she rested her forehead against the steering wheel, "Please don't ever say that again." His laughter followed her as she got out too and locked her doors, his arm swinging over her shoulders as the two walked towards the entrance of the Spread Eagle. Loud music and chatter filled the space as the Deputies pushed their way inside. Mary May was practically swimming in drink orders to a point she didn't even notice Calahan sneaking behind the bar to envelop her in a bear hug.

The blonde's confusion quickly dissipated as she shook off his hold, still not taking a good look at his costume, "Rookie, keep that up and you will be stuck behind the bar the whole night. Helpin', not partying." "You're no fun.", Calahan complained as he heaved himself over the counter instead of taking the long route, winning another curse from Mary May followed by her eyes widening when she finally noticed his attire. He leaned against the bar counter as she slid a drink his way, "Do you like my costume, gorgeous?" "Where the fuck did you even find…", she shook her head, but a smile played across her lips. "I plead the fifth." "Brin,", her attention shifted to Sabrina, slipping back into bartender mode, "What are you drinkin'?" "I'm his DD tonight." "So nothing new?" She shrugged as Calahan downed his first glass for the night. "I'm gonna make you something delicious." "Thank you, M."

He shuffled closer, whispering in her ear over the music, "I will be right back, have to greet my Pyrobros. Do some rounds, recruit people for my newly founded cult." Before she could even respond, he strutted over to Hurk, Sharky, and a couple of other locals that were standing around one of the tables at the far end of the bar. "So, if Rookie's Joseph…", Mary May returned to her after serving a couple of newcomers, "I guess you're going for John? If you do need a Jacob-" Sabrina's confused frown cut her off, "I'm not wearing a costume, I thought those were optional." "No?" Blue eyes ran over her blue button-up she had left mostly unbottoned after leaving her jacket in her car. "Nope. Does it look like it?" "I mean, paired with him,", Mary May's head cocked in Calahan's direction, "I'd say yes. No pun intended." A drink was placed in front of her, and she took a sip, sweetness hitting her taste buds, "I love this one."

"Yeah?", pride shone in the blonde's gaze before it shifted to the far end of the counter to a figure sitting next to the wall, bathed in shadows, "Anyways, I was gonna suggest Lizzie over there being your Jacob." It was rare anyone called Oakley Moore Lizzie, most folks weren't bold enough to engage in a conversation with the woman, let alone use a nickname she considered forbidden. "Oaks.", Mary May called out to her, gesturing for her to come closer. Seconds ticked by before Oakley switched seats, shoulders bumping with Sabrina's as her pale gaze settled on her. It's what she considered a proper greeting that was usually confused with her being hostile and granted, most of the time, she wasn't one for tolerating small talk. "Brin." "How's Betty?" Warmth melted away the iciness in her eyes at the mention of her grandmother, "You know Nana, refuses to sit down. And is now forcing me to socialize after Cal mentioned the goddamned party. I was planning on going hunting."

Cheers and whistling drowned out her response as Calahan did a victory spin for the crowd gathered inside, spreading his hands in the air the same way Joseph did and exclaiming, "The Father? I prefer Daddy, my children. Sin tonight… make me proud!" "He's something else.", Oakley commented with a smirk as she downed her whiskey, nodding past Sabrina, "Did he actually go through with 'borrowing JoeJoe's things'?" "Unfortunately. We got a call about it this morning." The news ripped a laugh out of Moore, another rarety, "Even his ratty bible?" The stolen bible lay discarded next to Sabrina, and she moved it out of the way of whoever wanted to occupy the empty chair to her left, mindlessly flipping through it until something caught her eye. A picture was nestled between the pages, its corners frayed like it had been touched many times. "What the-", the question drew Mary May's attention, and she leaned over to peek at what she was holding. "Ask for Mercy." The woman they had met that morning stared back at her in the photograph, smiling, wearing another similar white dress. "Well, fuck me.", Oakley uttered under her breath as she too huddled closer to examine the find, "JoeJoe has a dirty little secret?"

"Ah, man, you nailed the Joe-bro look, I swear.", Hurk raised his beer to Calahan for a toast just as a slender hand came to rest on his elbow. "Hello.", a petite blonde dressed as a fairy he hadn't seen around before greeted him with a shy smile, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks while she ogled his bare chest that was covered in temporary tattoos. The ladies sure appreciate it. Thanks, Gray. "Calahan.", he reached out his hand, giving her one of his signature grins, "And you are, beautiful?" A giggle left her as her palm touched his, "Cheyenne, but friends call me Cherry." "Cherries are my favorite.", he replied as he leaned in closer and straightened the dainty wings she had strapped around her shoulders, "You gonna dance with me, Cherry?" "I'd love to."

A song faded into another with Cheyenne melting further into him, her flowery perfume invading his senses while he wished he was dancing with somebody else. The same somebody that was currently not so secretly shooting daggers in his direction. Mary May was certainly not appreciating the view as she poured a drink to Grace Armstrong and then moved onto another customer. "You want a drink or something, baby?", Cherry's voice pulled him out of his staring, and he forced his attention back to her, offering her a carefree smile. "I have everything I need right here." Her hands traced his pecks before encircling his neck, her body moving to the rhythm as she pressed it closer to his on the small dancefloor. His head dipped at the telltale signs while she rose on the tiptoes to meet him halfway, their lips locking and for a second, he could pretend he wasn't kissing a stranger he just met.

It was even easier when they were blondes, yet those nights stung even more afterward. A coy smile took over Cheyenne when she leaned back, her lipstick smudged slightly, "Feelin' like going someplace more private?" Before he had a chance to respond, the door to the Spread Eagle flew open with such force it banged into the wall. The noise cut through the music and murmurs of the crowd, followed by a booming voice. Or what John considered booming voice that Calahan rather described as irritated child on the verge of a meltdown. "CALAHAN HARTLEY." The grin on his face didn't melt away at his name being called, instead, he pretended nothing had happened, forcing John to strain his vocal chords some more. Even his own mother hadn't ever called his name that way, no matter how much trouble he had been in. By the youngest Seed's tone, Calahan could guess he had somehow seen one of the many pictures and videos patrons had taken with him in Joseph's attire.

"I will be right back, beautiful.", he assured Cherry before sneaking out of her embrace and facing John with a wide smile, mimicking the pose his brother loved so much. "JOHNNYYY!", he hollered back, his night getting even better when the man's face twisted in rage at the sight of him, "I knew you would be tempted to come."

Sabrina spun around in her chair as a loud bang cut through the usual chatter around them, horror gripping her as John Seed marched through the entrance of the bar like he owned the place. His voice, or rather the way he screamed Calahan's name, promised trouble, especially since he had always been mostly calm during what others categorized as 'meltdowns'. "That damned bastard, having the guts to show up here.", Mary May, slammed a glass on the counter with way too much force, the liquid inside spilling over the edges as she regarded the man that viewed her business as something that needed to be shut down. Oakley had sneaked out minutes prior, saying how she needed a smoke if she was to sit through the night and since then hadn't returned. "JOHNNYYY! I knew you would be tempted to come.", Hartley yelled back, full of glee. Before she could think twice, Sabrina was out of her chair, cutting through the crowd that had grown silent as bargoers, including Joey and Pratt, watched the scene unfolding that was bound to end in disaster.

"Brin. Fuck.", Mary May called after her, but she pushed forward while Calahan himself advanced in John's direction, raising a hand adorned by his brother's rosary in the air. "I'd buy you a drink, Johnny, but don't think you're my type." "How dare you…you-", John barely managed to get any words out when he took in the Deputy's outfit, "Is my brother A JOKE to you?!" "Why, YES. YES. YES.", Hartley screamed back, "You love that word dontcha, Johnny? He is a JOKE. And let's face it, I'm wearing the look BETTER." Sabrina made it into the space that people had cleared out in anticipation of a fight breaking out, gliding between the two swiftly, knowing well enough that either men were close to unraveling and doing something drastic. "Kid.", she warned, feet planted firmly while feeling John's approach behind her, "Don't." Her gut told her she had a bigger chance at reasoning with him since Whitehorse was the one who always dealt with Eden's Gate's ruthless lawyer.

"Move, Gray.", his blue eyes were clear, signaling he wasn't nowhere near his boiling point as his fingers wrapped around her upper arm, ready to move her aside in sign of danger. Like hell I will move. "You came on OUR LAND. BROKE-" "FUCKING LEAVE MY BAR.", Mary May cut in, drawing everyone's eyes to herself, to the shotgun gripped in her hands, "RIGHT FUCKING NOW." "You…sinner.", John's rage switched target for a breath, "You've learned nothing, have you, Mary May?" "OUT.", her blue eyes narrowed, "Before I create more holes into your body since you seem to love those." "Look at you. All of you.", Calahan let out a dark laugh as John continued his speech, "Spreading the sin. Turning your backs on Eden. When the Collapse is on our doorstep."

A cacophony of curses echoed back from the crowd, furious stares zeroing behind Sabrina, and all she could imagine was the confrontation turning into a real bloodbath and how Whitehorse would chastise all of them for failing to stop it. With her thoughts getting darker by the second, she spun around, a pair of angry blue eyes settling on hers, "Mr. Seed." Something flew past her head, crashing into the wall and making her duck down on instinct. A bottle smashed into pieces, aimed at John. "How DARE-", he yelled again, but only managed to get two words out before she was cupping a hand over his mouth and pushing him out of the bar, door slamming shut behind her as the chilly air hit her at once. "Please, just leave.", she removed her palm off his face and placed herself between him and the entrance, the exterior lights of the bar dancing across his skin.

"You-", John stopped himself, a shaky breath leaving him as he regarded her, "Do you even know what he did?" "Is it worth getting hurt over? That bottle was just the beginning." He advanced forward again, expecting her to budge, allow him entry. She did none of that, unwavering while he drew near enough she could smell him - an expensive cologne drifting off him, stark contrast to most of the Project's members odors. "Go home, Mr. Seed." John shook his head, set on taking things too far, "He broke into my brother's home, took his belongings, and is wearing his clothes as a costume. They're all drunk and mocking him, and all he stands for on social media." "And you're sober and can be the bigger man by walking away." His eyes ran over her face, silence taking over as the party inside the bar continued like nothing had even happened.

"Are you wearing me as a costume, too?" "It's just a shirt, costumes are optional." "Good, because I'm not a-" "Go home.", she tried again, gentler that time around, nodding towards the truck he hadn't even bothered to park, instead stopping it in the middle of the road in his angry spell. "I'm not leaving without Joseph's bible." Sabrina nodded, "I will be right back, don't do anything, okay?" She didn't wait for him to respond, rushing back into the bar where the celebration was back in full swing with Hartley grinding against a blonde in a fairy costume. Laughter carried around her as she reached the bar and grabbed the bible, ignoring Mary May's string of questions with her mind set on solving the issue, ensuring the night didn't end in disaster. "Here.", she announced the second she was back outside, exchanging the worn copy of Joseph's Word to John. "I won't let him get away with this. Hartley should be upholding the law.", he gritted out and spun around, striding off back to his vehicle as she finally released the breath she had been holding.

Whatever relief she experienced began dissipating when seconds ticked by and he didn't drive off, instead rounding his truck in the dark, a faint light bouncing around as he examined something. "Somebody slashed my tires, Deputy. All four.", his voice carried over the quiet night. "What?" In a couple of steps, she was standing by his truck, his phone illuminating a jaded cut in the front tire. He huffed, "Leave, you say? Leave? They won't let me." "I'm-" "Sorry? Are you really, Deputy?" "You can call someone to pick you up…", she wrapped her arms around herself, the cold finally getting through her thin shirt. John shoved his phone back into his jeans pocket, "Absolutely not." "I don't know what to say, Mr. Seed." Reality was she had allowed herself a night to go out and have fun, and now she was stuck placating a hostile individual who in ways had every reason to feel bereaved.

His gaze casted behind her, aimed at the bar, making her worry he was contemplating having another go at Calahan and hunting down whoever had deflated his tires. "I can drive you home.", the words came out in a rush, her willingness to help getting her in trouble not for the first time. All she got was silence, his expression hard to read in the dark, so she pointed behind him, "My truck is over there." "That's how every horror movie starts.", he muttered back. "I thought your c-", she shook her head to dismiss what he would have no doubt taken as an insult, "Never mind." "What?" "Nothing, Mr. Seed. Would you like me to drive you home?" She took his nod as an 'Yes' and quickly moved past his truck, headed for her own as she sneaked a glance over her shoulder to assure he was following. Sabrina was the first to climb in, reaching over to unlock the passenger side door for him, but John stood frozen next it, a look of suspicion washing over his features.

"This feels like a trap." She gritted her teeth before forcing a smile his way, "You're welcome to walk home then, Mr. Seed. Some fresh air won't hurt ya.", then leaned back into her seat as she waited for him to make his choice. At the end, his pride won, and he got in reluctantly, clutching his brother's bible between his fingers as he slammed the door shut. "I carry a knife on me.", he warned as she started the Bronco, pulling out of the parking spot just as a person emerged from the shadows from the side of the Spread Eagle, the twinkling lights picking up their light blonde hair. Oakley. With her hatred of John, chances were she was the one that had struck while he was too busy inside the bar. "I do, too.", Sabrina retorted while he reached out and changed the radio station to the one Eden's Gate owned and used for propaganda.

Most of the drive to his house passed in silence, only disturbed by the way-too-cheerful choral songs. Every once in a while, she'd spare a quick look in his direction, catching him staring at her, too, while the tension in the small space only grew. The next time she did it, she found him flipping through the bible like she had done, his hands freezing when he got to the picture. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as he plucked the photograph and examined it. There was no shocked exclamation, no cursing in surprise like Oakley had done. John remained stoic while he stared at the picture his brother clearly valued enough to use as a bookmark in what looked like a well-read paperback. The picture was of a woman. A member of his cult. The one that was worried about his wellbeing and had enough influence over him to convince Joseph to call the police. There was a reason why both Mary May and Oakley eyed the hidden photograph with interest, why they spent a while speculating over the story surrounding Mercy.

Sabrina rolled to a stop in the driveway of the ranch, fully expecting John to jump out of her truck as soon as it wasn't moving with how extremely quiet he'd been. Instead, he remained seated, staring at his brother's bible, his features twisted into a frown. "Have yourself a good night.", she muttered, hoping it would be enough to pull him out of whatever stupor had taken over him and get him out of her vehicle. "Joseph keeps that bible on his bedside table.", he whispered, thumb brushing over the worn-out cover, "And he had the picture-" His words died down abruptly as if he suddenly remembered himself, then returned to looking out through the windshield into the darkness outside of the car, only disrupted by the Bronco's headlights. "It's none of my-" "Did you feel it, too?", John interrupted her, blue eyes moving to hers, "Even now."

A part of her warned her to mind her business, but curiosity won over it, "Felt what?" "That pull. The electricity." She said nothing, knowing her opinion were to either lie or admit he was somewhat right, which no doubt would be an ego boost to him. Truth was, something obscure, palpable hung between them, charging the air, growing stronger the closer he'd been. It doesn't matter. "Goodnight.", Sabrina repeated again and leaned over to open the door for him and make her stance crystal clear. The move was a mistake on its own because she hesitated, hand coming to rest on the door handle as his scent invaded her senses once more. "You want me to go?", he asked, watching her closely. "Yes."

Yet her fingers refused to obey, to swing the door open, prompt him to leave. Tattooed hand wrapped around hers to lift it between them, the interior light of her truck illuminating the top of his palm. The black ink that covered it. She was convinced she had stopped breathing when she pulled his arm closer, making sure she wasn't imagining things. That the tattoo her fingers were tracing was the same. That it was real, what she'd seen again and again. "Sabrina?", confusion swooped into his tone, mirroring hers. "I feel it.", her confession was barely audible, but clearly enough for him to make a choice, "It changes nothing." His eyes darkened, darting to her lips before he cupped her cheek with his free hand, "No matter. I'm still going to kiss you." No part of what he had said was a question, but she nodded anyway despite her better judgment as he leaned in, mouth covering hers.

His lips moved over her own slowly, a tingle climbing up her spine at the contact while her rational side screamed for her to push him away, no matter who he might be in her visions. It's him. Her hand braced against his chest, moving up on its own before grasping the nape of his neck and pulling him closer. It was then that she returned the kiss fully, lips parting as his own tongue darted out, a groan leaving him at the granted access. His taste took over her system while he set out on exploring her mouth, fingers intertwining with hers. A muffled tud broke the spell between them, making John pull back, staring at her intently with hunger written all over his face. "I should go. Be good." She nodded, but his hold of her hand only tightened, signaling he was torn, not exactly feeling the words. "Thing is… I don't want to.", he confirmed, licking his lips and making her wonder if he was tasting her.

"I don't, either." His gaze shifted to his feet, where Joseph's book had tumbled down onto the floor of her car before returning back to hers. "This is probably going to come back to bite me.", he uttered out, "Most definitely actually, Deputy. But… I'm asking you to come inside. See where this takes us." Her eyebrow rose up at his bold invitation, "I must have misheard you." "You didn't." Sabrina forced a laugh, "Don't you people have a rule about this?" "We do, quite frankly.", he nodded quickly, "I'm doing this despite it." "What would your brother think?", she pushed further, expecting him to fold, remember himself, and the doctrine forced upon each member. One, he clearly didn't respect enough. "What would Whitehorse think about Deputy Hartley committing a crime on private property last night?" It was the lawyer in him, the negotiator set on getting what he wanted, peeking through.

Her gaze narrowed, "What are you implying?" "We're both facing a dilemma, Deputy, toeing a line, you're keeping Hartley's secrets, covering for him. But there's a simple question - what do you want?" To head home and not get involved in a messy situation, especially after how you acted at the bar. "For you to kiss me again.", a satisfied smirk came over him at her answer, and he let go of her hand, only so he could open his door. "Come then.", he called out as he jumped down onto the gravel, gesturing for her to follow suit. His door slammed shut as she turned off the Bronco's engine and exited, rounding the truck where he met her halfway and took hold of her arm again. "One rule.", she muttered at his back as he pulled her along towards the ranch's main entrance, the overhead light coming on to life at their approach.

"What?" "You won't make a fuss about Calahan's indiscretion." He sighed like it physically pained him to let Hartley off the hook, "Fine. But this would be the first and last time." A small victorious smile danced across her lips as his hand wrapped around the doorknob and pushed his front door open, causing her to blink in shock, "You don't lock your doors, either? Of course, it runs in the family." Darkness ruled over the house aside from a dim light spilling out from the room ahead of them. "I wasn't exactly in the best mindset when I left.", John explained, leading her forward past a dining table and a lit stone fireplace that was providing the aforementioned illumination and separated the large open space in two. He spun around when he reached the other side of it, hand landing on her waist to drag her into him, "We're doing this?"

Her nod was all he needed to fulfill her previous wish, lips descending over hers as he took a couple of steps backward until he was lined with the couch that faced the fireplace and he lowered his body onto the leather surface, bringing her down with him. She straddled his lap on instinct, sinking further into the kiss while his fingers traveled beneath her shirt, coming to rest just at the edge of her bra. Like he had done before, he broke their liplock, leaning back to regard her as his hand made it past the lace garment, cupping her breast. "Look at you,", she said before lowering her mouth to his and whispering, "sinning." He pinched her nipple in warning, "Haven't even begun." A surprised yelp left her when John shifted until he was lying on top of her, undoing her jeans as he held her gaze and dragged them down her legs enough to have better access. "You want to stop, you tell me.", he instructed before he stole another kiss, hand moving from her waist down her abdomen and beneath her underwear.

One finger pushed inside her, swiveling into her wetness, more pooling at his touch and the satisfied growl that broke free from him. "More.", Sabrina ordered, buckling against his palm to get more friction to her clit before he complied, adding another digit to the mix as he began pumping in and out of her heat. "You're dripping for me." "Yes.", the word made it past her lips before she could think better of it, a grin appearing on his face as he repeated the movement again. Slowly that time, tantalizing her, hinting at his plan. "John.", she groaned in annoyance, "Don't you dare go there." He shook his head, "Say it again." "No." "Again and you're getting another finger." "He was right. You are weird during sex." "Who?", his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as his hand halted inside her. She rolled her eyes, "Calahan."

"Why am I not surprised the pest was talking about me." He resumed the previous infuriating pace, prolonging giving her what she wanted. "Say it, Deputy.", John repeated, and when she shook her head in defiance, he added, "I'd sweeten the deal." "How?", she moaned out when his thumb brushed against her clit, adding pressure before retreating. "Another finger.", he dropped a kiss across her lips, "My mouth. And then…" She hated how his talking alone had an effect on her, turning her on. "Then what?" He took his time considering the question before whispering, "You get to ride me." "And if I don't?" "Mmm..", his mouth lowered to her neck, sucking on the tender skin as his fingers kept the same slow pace, while her arousal grew, dripping down his hand, "I take my time. Wear you down. And, be assured, I'd enjoy every minute of it, Sabrina."

"Once." "Hm?" "I'd only say it once, don't be pulling any dirty tricks on me, Seed." "Deal.", he muttered and halted his teasing altogether, waiting for her to follow through with her part of the agreement. A shuddered breath left her when his thumb circled her clit again as encouragement, "Yes." "Such a freeing word.", John rose up, clutching her panties and pulling them down past her knees. His lips lowered to her belly, kissing a path over it while his hands spread her thighs apart, positioning her the way he wanted her. "No games." He tsk-tsked, "Where would be the fun then?" Her protests were cut short when his mouth found her center, tongue licking away at her arousal and drawing more out of it as result. "You taste so sweet. To think I almost walked away.", he remarked, peeking at her from between her legs, before diving back in for more.

Her noises urged him on as she climbed towards a powerful climax, three fingers entering her like he had promised, lips wrapping around her clit and adding much needed pressure. She rocked against his hand, sinking further into the pleasure, almost forgetting who was delivering it to her, how they had ended up there in the first place. His name ripped off her lips as she came, his thrusts picking up and only heightening the sensation. "That's it. Give in. Let it all pour out for me.", she ignored how close he sounded to his preachings in the cursed broadcasts, "There's more where that came from." He moved up her body, little tremors still coursing through her limbs as he kissed her, giving her a taste of herself. "Can you handle more?", he challenged, rising up on his heels while his hands worked on undoing his belt and jeans to leave him down to his underwear, his erection's outline pressing against the material, begging for release.

"You tryin' to trick me?" He smirked, "Nothing of sorts." "You haven't delivered on everything yet.", Sabrina reminded him as she got up too, fingers grasping the waistband of his boxers, and pulling them down. "Protection.", he mumbled to himself, "I don't-" "What… you don't do this a lot?" His look of disbelief made her chuckle, "Absolutely not." "I'm on the pill." Her hand wrapped around him, stroking his cock a couple of times as he contemplated the idea. "Yes.", he answered finally, sitting back down onto the couch, still mostly clothed aside from his nether regions. Sabrina stripped off her boots, pants, and underwear completely to ensure nothing would obstruct her mobility, his eyes following her the whole time, tongue darting out to lick his lips. With her clothes out of the way, she threw her leg over his hip, straddling him as her hand lined his tip with her entrance.

She sank down onto him slowly, relishing every inch, judging by his measured breathing and how his features twisted in concentration, he was doing the same. Trying to maintain his control. "So tight.", he gritted out, "You gonna move for me, Deputy?" She rocked against him slowly, her sleakness making her glide up and down his shaft with ease, the sounds of pleasure filling the darkened room paired with the crackling of the fire. "You're killing me here.", he whined against her lips, fingers gripping her hips to dictate the pace. "Riding you. It's what you said." "Yes." "So, let me do that. Have patience." "Deputy…" She grasped his hands, moving them to her chest, "If you want something to hold, the girls are feeling a bit ignored." "We can't have that.", John caught up quick, unbuttoning her shirt while she resumed riding him.

Her bra came undone next as he made work of the front clasp in a blink, baring her completely to him. "I will rectify the situation.", he vowed in a serious tone, his mouth swooping down to her chest, paying attention to each breast individually. His compliance caused her to move faster, arousal coating his length as she squeezed her muscles around him in attempts to coax his orgasm out. "You feel so good for a Seed. Who could have known…", she teased and let out a yelp when his teeth grazed her nipple at the jab. It wasn't long before she stumbled over the edge, her walls clenching around him and drawing his own climax, making him let go with a groan. Her name fell from his lips as he spilled inside her. "Oh, John.", she muttered quietly against his neck, euphoria overwhelming her system. "Bold and brave?", he chuckled, "It seems somebody's been listening to our radio station." A hand swatted at his chest, "You're totally ruining the moment."

He hummed in disapproval, arms encircling her body as she snuggled into him more, "Sleepy?" "A little bit." "My bed awaits." "You're asking me to actually stay over?" A series of kisses covered her collarbone, tracing her butterflies tattoo, "I'm far from done with you." She broke out of his embrace, an emptiness settling between her legs as she rose up, convincing herself she couldn't allow him to take things even further than he already had. "Deputy.", he called out, still seated on the couch, watching her while she gathered her clothes from the ground and huffed at his release running down her thigh and making it impossible to get dressed without creating a mess. His gaze met hers, shadows and light dancing across his features and partly obsecuring his expression, "What?" "You're not going to need them.", she opened her mouth to speak, but he waved her off, getting up too and snatching her clothes from her to drop them on the couch, "We're going to my bedroom."

"John.", his name was paired with a sigh at his tone that left no room for arguments. He made quick work of taking off his own boots, jeans, and boxers, pulling her in by her waist as his lips hovered over hers, "Go. Run. And you can keep thinking back to this moment, wishing you made a different choice, or you could be honest about what you want… How much you want it." His hand grasped her backside, and she could feel him hardening between them again while he kissed her, coming for breath only to add, "I'd like to fuck you on an actual bed instead of having my sweaty skin sticking onto old leather… might as well be comfortable seeing how I broke so many rules already." The idea he actually cursed out loud made her snort, "Fuck me?" "That's the plan. Just say 'Yes'. Are you staying?" Of course you're fishing for your favorite word again. Silence settled around them, heavy with possibility, with the realization he was infuriatingly correct she'd regret it.

He brushed her hair out of her face, "Your eyes are so expressive, you know that? I could basically see the battle within. Which option is winning?" Her hands traveled up his chest, locking around his neck, "Yes. Happy?" What she got as reply was a triumphant grin before he hoisted her up, legs wrapping around his waist as he rounded the couch, moving with determination with her in his arms. "Someone's in a rush. How long has it been?", she joked while he took the stairs two at a time, getting to the second floor of the ranch in couple of beats. "Way too long, Deputy." Darkness engulfed them as he headed down a hallway, pushing a door open with his free hand that wasn't holding onto her. It was where he finally dropped her to her feet, the coldness of the hardwood floors meeting as it shut with a click behind them. John was on the move again, his footsteps being her only indicator in the pitch black, then a table lamp next to his bed came to life, illuminating the space and his nearing form with faint glow.

Her eyes took in her surrounding, bouncing from his bed, sheer curtains and wooden interiors of the room, to the ordinary furniture and two doors leading who knew where before they settled on his chest as he discarded his shirt and reached out for her again. A combination of scars and tattoos marred his skin. A small old key hanging around his neck. "Not what you expected?", he asked when his hand found her cheek, caressing her skin gently. Your bedroom or the fact you're someone I've been seeing for years? "I don't know what I expected." He nodded and moved onto her own shirt, pushing it down her arms until it pooled at her feet, her lace bra following in its wake. "Definitely weren't dressed as me, eh, Deputy?" She gave him a pointed look, "I told you-" "You'd look good in my shirt. I wouldn't mind you stealing that." Her laugh was a surprised one, "Careful what you wish for… I might be planning my costume for next year already."

"Beautiful.", he whispered as his eyes ran over her naked body, thumb breezing over her bottom lip and slipping into her mouth, eyes darkening when she sucked on it, "Patience. Remind me of that, in case I forget." Sabrina nodded, releasing his digit with a pop, and he pushed her backward, mouth clashing into hers when her legs met the edge of his bed. The soft matress engulfed her body as he settled over her, hand coming to rest beside her head to keep his weight off her while the other traveled down her stomach and slipped inside her for a brief moment before retreating. Her palms braced against his chest, running over the hard planes as her thighs fell open more, urging him to act. Anticipation swam within her when his fingers grasped his lenght, his tip brushing across her wetness a couple of times before finally pushing in slowly despite how wet she was and the desire she could see in his eyes.

A stray piece of hair had fallen over his forehead, and she smoothed them away, muttering, "Fill me up already." "I'm trying to be patient here. Not embarrass myself.", his expression was focused, like he refused to fully give in, act on his urges, let his composure slip. "Fuck patient. Better yet, fuck me as promised." He blinked, considering her words before thrusting all the way in and ripping a moan out of her as her walls enveloped him, and more followed when he began to move. "I'm starting to think going after the Deputy tonight wasn't the worst idea I've had to date.", he groaned against her mouth while at the same time he threw her leg over his shoulder, sinking in deeper into her at the new angle. "He sure would die laughing if he knew how the night unfolded after I broke you two apart." "He'd be obnoxious about, wouldn't he?", he chimed in, "Probably claim it was what he had planned all along to get me back for the previous time."

She couldn't help but smile at his annoyance, "Possibly." "Most definitely.", John insisted, pairing his next words with a hard thrust, "I couldn't stop thinking about you today." "Yeah?" She did her hardest to match his movements as a climax began to build within her, and her legs parted to take more of him. "Yes.", he gritted out, a giggle escaping her at the memory of Calahan's theory about his habits in bed, "Something amusing, Sabrina?" "No." There was doubt in his gaze, but he let her answer slip, emphasizing each word with a rock of his hips, "First time I saw you up close… I imagined it so many times." Her eyes widened at the bold confession and idea he had been thinking of her to begin with, "For how long?" "Since you moved here, but I had to be good, telling myself I wasn't missing anything."

In ways Hartley had been right about the signs and his theories about John's frustration. Regret slipped over his features, prompting her to cup his bearded cheek, "I'm here now." "That you are, and I plan on making up for that lost time.", he said with conviction, slowing his pace as his hand slipped between them to rub her clit. With a couple of flicks across it paired with his thrusts, the release she could feel twisting and twirling inside her came to a crescendo. His name rolled off her tongue, causing him to smirk while he continued to move, head dipping down to whisper in her ear and sending a shiver all over her body while her hands fisted the satin sheets beneath her, "Think you can come again before I do?"

Minutes later she found herself completely spent, laying snuggled in the crook of his arm while her fingers traced a lazy pattern across his chest. "Three times.", he noted with pride, hand running down her back under the soft covers, "I'm thinking we can break that record next time." Next time? Sabrina ignored the off-hand comment, assuming he hadn't meant anything by it, that he was just still basking in his own climax after demonstrating how dead set he was on holding off until he couldn't physically anymore. "Should I expect you to show up at the Sheriff's tomorrow?" "Today.", he corrected her, "And no, Deputy. I promised, didn't I? Hartley is off the hook until whatever he does next comes back to bite him." Her grin was concealed against his neck and she placed a kiss on his skin, "Thank you."

"Does that mean you're due to work in few hours?" "Mhm.", she hummed absently, "Why?" "I might pay you a visit instead.", his caress was slowly lulling her to sleep, especially with how relaxed she felt as she laid in the embrace of someone considered enemy of the County. When she said nothing, he took her silence as agreeance to his idea, adding, "We could see that the theft case gets closed." Her fingers froze against his chest as it was toying with the metal key nestled between his pecks, eyes lifting up to meet his baby blues, "I never opened one, you wanted to handle things yourself, remember? Play detective." "I will think of something else.", he said nonchalantly, "Like my truck's slashed tires… All four of them, a serious enough offense." "John." "Yes?" "This…", she paused, wondering what she had gotten herself into, "it can't happen again."

It was then that she got her first confirmation he had been serious upon mentioning 'a next time', coming in the form of a determined look he gave her before uttering out, "We shall see about that, Deputy." The same one he wore each time he argued with Whitehorse, refusing to back down no matter how much the Sheriff tried to placate him. If how impossible to shake off he had proven to be when it came to Calahan, she didn't dare think what it would take for him to give up after their night together. A part of her didn't know if she wanted him to, no matter how disastrous the consequences promised to be.

Tagging, @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @onehornedbeast @theelderhazelnut @cassietrn @madparadoxum @voidika @corvosattano @unholymilf @purplehairsecretlair @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @florbelles @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @the-silver-chronicles @nightbloodbix @clicheantagonist @wrathfulrook @harmonyowl @jillvalentinesday @shegetsburned @sstewyhosseini and anyone with something to share <3

#Calahan has so many gems in this one 🤣🤣🤣#but somehow “Paint me like your local cult leader; not one of your french girls.” is my favorite ☠️☠️#him roasting John and Joseph and just riling him up is peak; the tattoo session is just such a dynamic to have with your bestie #then we have all the pinning after Mary May; Oakley's cameo; Mer and Jacob being their usual selves #Jacob being a lil weirdo with Sabrina (what could have been if John wasn't on her mind 24/7)#Mary May pulling out a shotgun at John for walking into her bar and making a scene ☠️☠️👏👏 go girly #Savannah is adorable; give her all the candyyy; Cal being excited for Halloween and wanting sweets too 🥺#John suspecting he's gonna get horror movied if he gets in Sabrina's car and then being like fuck it sinnin time Joe is sinnin too #“Oh John” making a cameo and her being like stoop you're ruining the moment 🫠#i never expected to be so stoked with this drabble but mannn cal brings such unhinged dialogue to the table #oc: calahan hartley #oc: sabrina donovan #wip: in hope of tomorrow #fc5 ocs #far cry 5 oc #fc5 deputy #john x sabrina #ship: the diviner and the baptist #joseph seed #john seed #john seed x female deputy #myedits #mygifs #oc: oakley moore #mary may fairgrave #oc: savannah donovan #halloween #halloween edit #fc5 meme #wip wednesday

48 notes · View notes

basedkikuenjoyer · 5 months ago

Text

Transmission Transition

Yeah buddy, I'd want some time alone too after that full-blown verbal holy war Kendrick Lamar dragged your ass with. Kinda shit that makes you need to stop and reflect on your life choices. Drake is back and he is straight-up pulling a Crane Wife hot on the heels of Stussy putting words to some interesting concepts we've seen.

It's been a while, so for a refresher I care a lot about X Drake coming back around because we dangled his report on Wano as a Chekov's Gun way back at the start of Egghead. If he's the one to open up a reinterpretation of Wano...Drake's scenes overlap with Kiku/Izo's a fair amount. So once again, hot on the heels of Stussy speaking that potential baggage aloud here's Drake playing very nice as a followup. Drake, Stussy, Marco. That was the trio I was looking for in this pseudo-anthology's third side story. Speaking of...

It's been a while. Always had nascent ideas about the idea Zoro busts out an attack called Rashomon with Kuma way back when. Of course I've made plenty of mentions of the film reference. Even if you haven't seen it you've seen the story structure. Three POVs on the same event, the real magic is in stitching the truth together out of three unreliable narrators. Marco's perfect to spell it all out as the sorta "framing device" between Wano & Egghead.

It's hard to tell week-to-week what we'll do with this one, but I think we can see what our trio is for Egghead:

First we step away to see a collection of side stories, end on filing in the truth of Sabo/Vivi in Reverie. This though obscured what happened in the lab.

Next we give Bonney a whirl through her backstory with Kuma, where he'll both be a bit of an unreliable narrator and also rewrite some events we've seen prior through giving his POV. When we return we reiterate last night was a gap and add the mystery pile of food for Luffy.

Vegapunk's Broadcast, duh. It was more of a distraction while we saw some relation to the main plot but it still fits the bill. We've done Stussy, we're getting Drake, if you do loop Marco in than it's a way to complete the ASL theme with an Ace connection too. And don't sleep on the York focus here either.

Of course, we'll need to see the next few chapters to really evaluate that. Each one have had their content that raises questions, unreliable narrators and oddball tropes like that. But let's get back to this chapter, there was a cool running line in there I liked:

I could riff on Koby, Grus, & Kujaku getting a bit meta here but I'll save that until I know the next few steps. Kujaku gets to shine a lil more in this SWORD segment as the one checking on Drake but her line here gets a lot more interesting when Bluegrass & Doll have a similar mindset attacking the giants. Bluegrass especially encouraging the young ones to step up and become a star. Makes me think a lot about our OP for the anime adaptation The end of the dream, the end of the sea...but first we have to make a shining legend of ourselves.

It's just funny to me one could interpret the lyrics to "Us" as a threat this arc maybe will break the direction I've long hoped it would is all I'm saying. Let's bring this all home with the main highlight of the chapter though.

It's not just the stinger, the Gorosei seemed a little shocked their first hits on Robonosuke stopped everything. York is relieved but recall last time we talked about her theory that's where the antenna snail was hiding was just that, a theory.

Type of thing that could go either way and either option could have a lot of ways of unfolding. That said...this is a perfect ending if some unknown force is about to take advantage of these gaps to justify being in prime position to hijack the broadcast. Kinda feels like it'd be a cop out to have Robonosuke hanging around this whole time just to get smacked around a little. Still very, very excited for this next stint.

#one piece #chapter 1117 #prince grus #Kujaku #Koby #Vegapunk York #Zoro #x Drake #post-wano musings

13 notes · View notes

hinatastinygiant · 10 months ago

Text

2 | ��𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮, 𝓣𝓸𝓸

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

The Author

TWO YEARS LATER

Y/N'S P.O.V.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Thor tells you as he grips both of your arms. "I know how much work we've all put into this."

"Can't you wait until after?" you question him, your eyes filling with tears. "I don't want you getting hurt again. Besides, my parents will kill you for leaving."

"It's just a routine trip," he promises. "Besides, my father has already given me the okay."

"But wait until he tells mine. Your father is more forgiving, my prince," you remind him. "Too much planning has gone into tomorrow night."

Thor sighs as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "I know, but this is my duty," he reminds you. "But don't worry, darling. I will be back by the end of the week. I promise."

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder and savoring the smell of his cologne. He's been gone a lot more these past few months. Especially lately, with the war growing.

"Please," you whisper softly. "Be safe."

"I will," he assures you, pulling back enough to kiss you. "Earth isn't too far."

"Only three million lightyears away," you smile sadly.

"No," he shakes his head before kissing your forehead. "It's only two point six."

You can't help the laugh that's pulled from your throat. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," he nods. "But I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay," you sigh. "You should get going."

After Thor left, it was up to you to break the news to your parents. Thankfully, King Odin was able to assure your parents that it was all fine.

"Perhaps this change will be good," Queen Frigga smiles as she hugs you softly, expressing her sympathy for a young woman missing her betrothed. "Perhaps Loki will be able to attend the new date."

"Ha, I doubt it," King Odin shakes his head. "He never has time for his family anymore. Too busy trying to prove himself as nothing more than what he is. A selfish bastard."

"Odin," Frigga scolds. "We have guests. Be careful with your words."

You feel your face heat up in anger at the king's words, but you can understand why he's said them. The past two years have changed Loki into a completely different person than the one you grew up with.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Frigga sighs, offering you an apologetic glance. "Come, let's get you a room for the night so you don't have to make the long journey home."

"Thank you," you nod.

"I'm sure Thor would appreciate you staying," she adds. "You know you're welcome to stay here any time, my dear."

As you're guided towards your room, you can't help but think about Loki. You wonder where he is that he's not spending time with his family. You remember when you were kids and the four of you used to have tea parties, play hide and seek, and read together in the library. Those days have never seemed further from you than they do right now.

"Here we are," Frigga smiles, holding out her hand. "Dinner will be ready soon. Take all the time you need, sweetheart."

"Thank you, my queen," you reply, taking her hand and giving it a small squeeze. "I shall be down in a moment."

She gives you a sympathetic nod before leaving you alone in the large room. You can't help but sigh in relief. It's been a long day, especially after hearing the news about Thor leaving. You flop down on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Just how many times is Thor going to pull this stunt?

***

"It's been a month, my king!" you hear Frigga shout from the other side of the door. You take a deep breath as you contemplate going in there, but you're not sure what else to do. You nod at the guard before allowing him to knock on the door and let you in.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," you announce, not bothering to wait for a reply. "But the preparations are nearly complete."

"Ah, yes," King Odin nods. "About that, Y/N, I've changed my mind."

"About what, my king?" you gulp, hoping to god he won't take this moment away from you.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go to Earth," he explains. "You've never been before and sending you alone is quite the risk. Especially now that Thor is missing."

"Missing, my king?"

"I've heard no word from him," the king shakes his head, causing your eyes to widen. "He hasn't made contact since he left. Something is not right, and until we can find him, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel the engagement. I'm sorry, my dear."

"But I-" you begin before he lifts his hand to shut you down.

"Not another word, Y/N. You are not to leave this palace," he orders. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak with my wife. Guards, please escort Y/N to her room and have someone posted at the door."

"Y-yes, my king," the guard nods as he motions for you to follow him.

Once the two of you are back in the hallway, you narrow your eyes. Spending all that time with Loki and Thor didn't amount to nothing, after all. Whenever you got the chance, you made sure to learn a trick or two from either of them, and they were always more than willing to teach you.

"You may post yourself outside the room, but I will need a little while to myself. It's been a hard day for me, and I'd appreciate it if you would give me some privacy," you lie as you reach your room.

"My princess?" the guard hums. But as he reaches you, a swift right hook knocks him out, and you can't help but feel proud of yourself. "Go to hell, asshole."

After changing into something a little less formal, you gather a few items and rush to the airship that the princes had shown you after one of their trips to Earth. You can't help the smile on your face as you climb into the driver's seat and fire it up.

"I'll find you, Thor. And you better be alright," you whisper, proud of yourself as you hit the lever and watch the ship shoot up into the air.

***

As your ship floats around just outside of Earth's atmosphere, you look down at the strangely round planet wondering where exactly it is that Thor could be. It all looks the same, yet somehow different from what Thor has described it to be.

Suddenly, a beam shoots past your window, and the ship rocks. "Shit," you whisper as loud blares of a warning sound off in the small ship. You look back, seeing three other ships quickly approaching. "Shit, shit, shit."

Without another thought, you push the lever forward and steer the ship through the atmosphere, hoping like hell you can find somewhere safe. However, after a few more shots to the engines on the ship, your engine fails, and you crash into the surface, your body jolting forward and hitting the control panel.

"Oh, gods," you groan, lifting your head. The blood begins to drip down your nose, staining the white shirt beneath your coat. You reach for the controls, but everything has been shut off. You're not getting off this planet anytime soon.

"Shit," you mumble, looking out the window to see several men approaching. They're wearing dark suits and helmets, guns raised and ready. Quickly, you scramble out of the ship and run as fast as you can on something you can only assume is what Thor described to you as sand. You run and run, hoping you'll be able to escape them, but they're faster than you, and soon you come face to chest with another person.

You gasp and take a step back. Humans are much quicker than you thought. And you didn't think they could be this tall.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice calls. You take a step back and to your amazement, Loki stands before you.

"Oh my gods," you whisper. "What the hell are you doing here? Did those people follow you, too? Do you have any idea where Thor is?"

"What?" he hums, not following you as you begin to ramble on and on. "Slow down, Y/N. I can't understand you. Why are you here? And why are you bleeding?"

"What do you mean why am I here? Thor hasn't been home in a month. We were supposed to..." You trail off when Loki's hand reaches up to your cheek and thumbs over the cut on your nose. "Loki..."

"Y/N," he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What the hell is going on, Loki?"

"I-" he begins, suddenly realizing how close he's allowed himself to get to you.

But before any more can be said, the group of strange soldiers approaches the two of you. Quickly, they explain that both of you are under arrest before grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to your knees.

"Loki, what's happening?"

"Let her go," he commands. It doesn't seem like he knows who these people are either. "This is your last warning!"

A woman, seemingly the leader of this group which is rather odd to you, laughs. "No, this is your last warning. Besides, you wouldn't want us to take this pretty girl and leave you behind, would you?"

"You wouldn't," Loki huffs, standing his ground.

"Loki, what is she talking about?" you ask, looking up at him.

"I don't know," he growls, readying himself to fight. However, when he tries, the woman ends up slapping a collar around his neck. A moment later, she places one on you, too.

After being put through a series of multiple stupid situations, the pair of you are dragged into a courtroom. You are then forced into a chair in the back while Loki is pushed ahead toward the stand.

"How do you plead, variant?" the judge asks him as she looks down.

Of course, Loki gives her a witty response and the entire room audibly sighs. You can't help but shake your head as his powers fail to work in wherever we are.

"Alright," the judge sighs. "Prune him."

"What?!" you gasp, standing to your feet only to be shoved back down. Loki, while being pushed toward a glowing door, looks back at you with a worried expression.

"Don't worry, darling. It'll be okay," he assures you, a soft smile crossing his face.

"Wait," a man in the room suddenly speaks up. You watch as he approaches the judge and whispers something into her ear. She nods and waves her hand, causing the guards to release Loki.

"I have a much better idea."

"What are you talking about?" Loki questions, narrowing his eyes at the judge.

"The two of you," the man hums, ushering the guard near you to shove you toward Loki. "Are coming with me."

"Wait a minute," Loki argues, his eyes wide. "What do you want from her? She's done nothing wrong! This is all a mistake. Let her go," he continues, struggling against the two guards that hold his arms.

"You don't even know what's going on here," the man chuckles. "Come along, both of you. We're going to my office."

A few moments later, the three of you arrive in a large room that's like no study you've seen on Asgard or Astoria before. The man, who now introduces himself as Mobius, shoos the guards away and shuts the door behind the three of you.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Loki whispers softly as he stands before you.

"I'm fine," you assure him. "Just confused and scared."

"You won't be scared for long," Mobius assures you. "In fact, you'll probably feel quite at home here."

The second Mobius' hand lands on your back, Loki rushes the man, but before he can reach him, he's suddenly transported into the chair in the center of the room.

"Loki!" you gasp, your hands flying up to your mouth. You try to turn around to make sure he's okay, but before you can catch a glimpse, you're pushed through a red glowing door.

As you stumble backward, you find yourself back on Astoria. Confused, you look around and find yourself in the center of a lavish party.

"Y/N?" you hear a voice call out to you.

You turn around as quickly as possible. Before you is Thor down on his knee. "Thor, what are you-"

"There's something I wanted to give you," Thor hums as he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a small, velvet box. Opening it, he reveals a beautiful diamond ring. Your jaw drops, unable to believe what you're seeing for a second time.

"But you already-"

"Princess Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Thor," you mutter as he takes your hand and kisses the ring as he slips it onto your finger.

"What is it, my love?"

"I can't do this again," you frown. "I'm not doing this again."

"What are you talking about?"

You quickly pull out of his reach and run out of the room. But the second you think you're out, you find yourself right back where you started. What kind of hell is this?

"Y/N," Thor's voice calls out to you. Again, he gets down on his knee. "Princess Y/N, will you marry me?"

You look around the room where you spot Loki standing beside his parents, watching as his brother slides the ring on your finger. Tears swell up in your eyes as you take in how heartbroken he looks.

"Thor," you sigh, shaking your head.

"What's wrong, my love?"

"I'm sorry. I can't," you whisper, backing away. "I can't."

You escape, only to be brought right back.

LOKI'S P.O.V.

"Where have you put her?" my voice booms as Mobius turns to face me, wiping his hands.

"She's safe," Mobius replies, his eyes darting toward the glowing red door just before it disappears. "Just a little... confused."

"Bring her back," I demand.

"Yeah? Or what?" Mobius chuckles as he sits in the other chair in the room.

"Or I'll kill you," I growl.

"No, you won't. You don't have it in you," he hums.

"What are you talking about?"

Mobius tries to fill my head with lies about this place that I've been brought to. He tries to explain that there are all-powerful beings called Time Keepers who are in charge of my fate. However, I have no intention of being stuck here for the rest of my life. I need to find Y/N.

"And why did you bring her into this?" I snap. "What does she have to do with any of this?"

"She's a variant, too," he shrugs. "Figured that much was obvious."

At his words, I quickly rise to my feet and tighten my right hand into a fist. But before I can move, I'm right back in the same stupid chair.

Over and over, I try to escape. All I can think about is Y/N and how afraid she must be. If Mobius thinks he can scare me into submission, he has another thing coming. I'm not going to stop until I find her and make sure she's okay.

"Let me go," I demand, glaring daggers at the man.

Time seems to never end as I try countless times to get my hands on the TVA worker. But every time, I'm put right back into the same damned chair.

"Look," he sighs, leaning back in his own seat. "If I let you see her for a moment, to prove to you that she's alright, will you behave?"

"What do you want in return?"

"Nothing, yet," he smirks. "Only the promise that you'll listen to me."

"Fine," I huff. "But if she's hurt I'll tear you limb from limb."

Mobius chuckles at my comment and a moment later, the red glowing door reappears and Y/N stumbles forward. She looks dazed and confused as she catches herself on the corner of the table.

"Y/N," I call out, hesitant to get up from my chair. But when she realizes I'm here, she throws her arms around me. I swear my heart skips a beat as she pulls me into the tightest hug she's ever given me. I can tell just how scared she is. What has Mobius put her through to get her this worked up? "Are you alright?"

"I don't know," she whispers in my ear, causing a wave of chills to run down my spine. "What's happening, Loki?"

"It's okay, love," I promise, rubbing my hands up and down her back. "I'll get us out of here. Don't you worry. You're not hurt are you?"

"No," she answers, not releasing me. "They're going to make me marry him again. Over and over."

"They who? Who's making you marry him?"

"I'm so scared," she sniffles, her body beginning to shake in my arms. "I don't want to go back."

As I turn my gaze back to the man on the other side of the table, he simply clears his throat and fixes his tie. "Well, this has been an uncomfortable situation for all of us. Now, are we ready to get to work?"

"You're not going to get away with this," I growl, holding Y/N tighter. "When I get out of this damned chair, I'll make sure to wipe that smug smile from your face."

"I never told you that you couldn't get up," he simply shrugs. "And besides, it's not like you'll be able to go anywhere. Not while she's around. Now, I'm going to send her back, and if you would be so kind, you could start cooperating."

"At least let me walk her back to the door," I insist, and thankfully, the man agrees.

"Come on, Y/N, it's going to be okay," I whisper to her, gently coaxing her to her feet. "You'll be alright. I promise."

Just as I said, I walk Y/N to the door with Mobius following close behind us. But when I catch a glimpse of that time controller he's been using to keep me in the chair, I immediately yank her over and reach for it.

Moments later, we find ourselves in a different room. Y/N gasps at the sudden change of scenery before grabbing onto my arm and pulling me close.

"Where are we?" she asks.

"No idea," I admit, taking in the room around us.

"Oh my gods," she whispers as she lets me go and moves toward the balcony. The world we find ourselves on is unlike anything we've ever seen. "Is that magic?" she asks me.

"Mobius told me it's all real," I say as I look down at my hands. Well, my magic certainly isn't working here, at least.

"And you believe him?" she asks, nearly reading my mind.

"Well, I," I mutter. After everything he's said all day, I can't help but feel confused. "I'm not quite sure. Come on, we need to go."

With my hand on her back, I guide her down the hallway. However, our attempt at an escape is quickly put to a halt.

"What are the two of you doing out of the interrogation room?" a woman questions as she rounds the corner. It's the same guard that brought me here. Why can't I escape any of these bastards?

"Loki," Y/N mutters, taking my arm as hers once again. "Now what?"

"Now," the woman whose nametag reads B-15 says she lights the weapon in her hand. "You both are coming with me."

"Shit," I hiss, pushing Y/N behind me.

Without another thought, Y/N grabs my hand and pulls me after her. I stumble backwards as I allow her to lead me away. I can't help but take note of the way her hair blows in the wind as she runs. The way her skin glistens in the light. The way her chest rises and falls with each breath. If only she were mine...

"Loki," she snaps, catching me off guard.

"What?"

"We're trapped," she states, pulling me back to reality.

"Ah, Y/N," I nod, looking up. The two of us are alone now, trapped in a small room if that's what you could even call it. "A closet?"

She's so unbelievably close to me. I can feel the warmth radiating off her skin. I can smell the sweet scent of her perfume. It's been ages since I've been this close to her, and yet, I still feel so far away.

"What now?" she breathes heavily, looking at me with those big, beautiful eyes of hers.

"Well," I clear my throat, trying my best not to allow my gaze to wander. "Now we wait. Perhaps they'll just give up and we can walk out with the Tesseract."

"The Tesseract?" she repeats. "What is that? You better tell me what's going on or I swear-"

I cut Y/N off as I place my hand over her mouth. She narrows her eyes at me but once she hears the sound of footsteps closing in, she calms down. "Stay quiet," I whisper, leaning closer to her.

Her eyes dart down to my lips and for a moment, I swear I could die. "Y/N..."

"Loki, what are you doing?" Mobius' voice booms as he opens the door.

Quickly, the two of us jump away from one another. "Trying to get away from you, isn't it obvious," I sigh as he takes the remote out of my hand.

"Let's go," his voice booms as he grabs me by the arm. I struggle in his grasp as Y/N is pulled the opposite way with a different guard.

"Not without her!" I shout, watching as Y/N is dragged away.

"It's going to be fine," Mobius assures me as we enter his office again.

"Fine?! How the hell is any of this fine?" I snap.

"Look," he says as he turns and points at a small television screen. "I'll just explain it to you again."

The Author

23 notes · View notes