#but then when we get into intercepted houses. oof.

[luxurybrownbarbie]

Hey Barbie! I was curious if you believe that signs over houses also rule someone’s personality of that area somewhat, like some people do? Such as someone having Capricorn over the 4th house and even if they have no planets, their home life or attitude towards it has a Capricorn flavor!

Hmm, yes and no.

I think it’s less to do with the sign specifically, and more to do with the planet that rules the sign! An empty 4H Capricorn should look to where Saturn is in their chart and then see what house it’s in, and what aspects are hitting it. For example, if Saturn is in their 10H conjunct their midheaven, they may view family as a social signifier, and find it hard to separate the work and family spheres. It might also mean that they struggle with tying emotions in to work, but they might find it really rewarding to bring family in and create a family business! Since the 4H is empty, it’s not an area that they’ll struggle much with or focus too much conscious effort on in this lifetime, but they may find that finding a way to leverage the 4H in 10H matters will make things a bit easier for them in the long run.

I think it’s less about an empty house taking on the sign’s characteristics and more about what the relative ease of empty houses can do to help support the other houses that take up more conscious space. 💛

[houseisekai]

House Isekai: Shadowbringers -Interlude 1

House Isekai Shadowbringers AU Masterlist Here

—

Interlude: Konosuba Gang

Directly after the events of Act 1: Finale...

As House Isekai moves to Derdriu after escaping Church Forces at Garreg Mach, they decide to camp for the night and rest before continuing their journey.

Finally having a moment of calm, Sitri decides to speak with one of the very first members of House Isekai...

—

[No Greater Sorrow - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

Sara stopped the group and turned around to do a quick head count.

All the students were accounted for. Blue Lions and Black Eagles not too far behind.

...Then there was Lahabrea and Sothis, keeping an extremely far distance from everyone. She was hoping they’d keep it that way.

(Sara) “Campin’ here tonight boys and girls. Wouldn’t do us good to get ambushed when we’re exhausted.”

Everyone nodded and moved into the woods nearby and cleaned up a spot.

(Ainz) “We will create protection spells in case anyone is watching.”

(Futaba) “Leave scanning the area to me and Fuuka!”

(Mitsuru) “Understood. Us Persona users will secure the area then.”

(Akira) “Roger. Let’s get going.”

(Dimitri) “Suppose we can make the area comfortable to sleep in then.”

(Edelgard) “Seems fine to me.”

(Megumi) “ We will help as well.”

(Kazuma) “Guess we’ll get a fire goin’.”

Everyone had their assigned roles and got quickly to work.

The Phantom Thieves hopped into the trees and disappeared into the night as S.E.E.S, Class VII followed on foot.

The Denizens of Nazarick began casting spells and aiming it above the campsite.

Lahabrea and Sothis set their own mini camp away from everyone.

Sitri noticed Lahabrea staring at her, then quickly looking away.

(Sharon) “Miss Sitri?”

Sitri turned around and saw Sharon with her smile as Doomguy laid Byleth gently on the floor and began patrolling the area.

(Sharon) “Would you like to get some rest?”

(Sitri) “As much as I would, I don’t like everyone doing work as I do nothing. I will go help Kazuma and the others with the fire.”

She took one last look at Byleth before Sharon bowed at her.

(Sharon) “Rest assured, Byleth will be in good hands.”

(Sitri) “Thank you, Sharon.”

Sharon went back to Byleth and took out some strange device and looked over him. Knowing she was not being any help by standing, she went after Kazuma.

...

(Megumin) “Hm...You know I just realized I can’t really see at all.”

(Aqua) “I can see just fine.”

(Kazuma) “Then hurry up and find some good firewood, would ya? Place is creepin’ me out.”

(Darkness) “If there are beasts here, I will intercept it!”

(Kazuma) “Listen we are NOT getting killed because you want to fuel your sick feti-”

Snap!

(Megumin) “W-WHO’S THERE?!”

Aqua turned around reaching for her staff before easing up.

(Aqua) “Oh, hi Sitri.”

(Sitri) “H-Hello...”

Sitri brought up a torch and looked at the four.

(Sitri) “Would you like some help?”

(Kazuma) “Sure. Though, shouldn’t you be resting?”

(Sitri) “I could ask the same for everyone. You all have been working and fighting tirelessly.”

(Darkness) “Hah, this is nothing, Mrs. Eisner! Byleth took us through worse!”

(Kazuma) “Pah, bullshit! He never trained us for all out war!”

(Megumin) “Kazuma! S-Sorry Mrs. Sitri, he can’t really control his language.”

Sitri couldn’t help but laugh.

(Sitri) “It’s quite fine. Jeralt wasn’t exactly the type of person to filter himself either.”

As she walked over to the group she began thinking to herself.

(Megumin) “If...I can say something, Sitri. We all knew Jeralt during our year at the Academy. He was a good man, and a good father. He talked about you almost every other day.”

(Darkness) “Indeed. I wish he was here to see you now.”

(Kazuma) “You uh...have our condolences.”

(Sitri) “...Thank you. It brings me some level of peace to know how he was...”

She looked up at the night sky longingly.

(Sitri) “Just like all those years ago...”

(Aqua) “By the way, why did you follow us out here of all people? Any reason?”

(Sitri) “No, not particularly. I’ve just had a few questions I’ve been wanting to ask.”

(Kazuma) “Hm? ‘Bout what?”

(Sitri) “Well, I think that floating girl to start. Everyone called her Sothis, but if I recall correctly Sothis was an all divine goddess.”

(Aqua) “Psh, divine my butt! She’s a little gremlin!”

Aqua had a smirk on her face, which confused Sitri.

(Sitri) “Gremlin?”

(Kazuma) “Eh, don’t mind the useless goddess here. She started a lotta bullshit between then two.”

(Aqua) “DID NOT!”

(Megumin) “A-Anyways, we don’t know the true story ourselves. But...from what I heard from other members of House Isekai, she was a true friend.”

(Kazuma) “Not was, IS, a good friend.”

(Sitri) “I’m not sure I understand then. You all seemed so hostile to her.”

(Aqua) “It...may not make any sense but she isn’t OUR Sothis. The Sothis we knew infused herself into Byleth during the encounter with Jeralt’s killers.”

(Kazuma) “Though that’s a story you need to hear from your son and not us. Anyways, only a select few of us could see her during the Academy. We didn’t know the true nature of her, but all we know is that she was with Byleth when it all began. Preeetty sure we were the first ones to meet her actually.”

(Sitri) “You were the first to arrive in Fodlan? Oh, by the way I think I may have found some wood.”

(Aqua) “Yeah, first us, Class VII, then Megumi, then everyone started pouring in.”

(Darkness) “Hm...No, too damp. It wouldn’t light properly. And yes, we were. The four of us were in Kazuma’s mansion when we suddenly found ourselves flung into a battle at Remire Village. It was there we rescued Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude alongside Byleth and Jeralt.”

(Sitri) “So he became a mercenary like his father...”

(Megumin) “Very good one at that! When we first met him, he didn’t seem to have too much emotion. Though overtime he became a great teacher!”

Sitri smiled as she continued looking.

(Sitri) “...Thank you for taking care of him.”

(Darkness) “If anything, I feel like that we should thank you, Sitri. We don’t know the full story, but you sacrificed yourself so that your child could live.”

(Sitri) “It’s something any mother would do for her child. Though I can safely say I had no intention of...being resurrected, I am happy to see my son alive and well.”

Her smile quickly faded when she started to think again.

(Sitri) “But...Why did Lahabrea resurrect me? He appears to be my son but-”

(Kazuma) “Frankly, I think we should be careful of that asshole. I don’t know what’s going on with him exactly, but I KNOW he doesn’t have our best interest at heart.”

(Aqua) “Right? Plus she resurrected her using some dark magic! That can NOT end up being good!”

(Sitri) “...”

Minato walked past them, not even facing their direction.

(Minato) “Could try and NOT talk like Sitri isn’t even there.”

(Kazuma) “Oh piss off, Arisato. Like you’re one to give me a lecture about manners.”

(Minato) “Hmph.”

(Sitri) “Um...Pardon my rude manners but are you all always this...um...-”

(Kazuma) “Dysfunctional?”

(Aqua) “Aggressive?”

(Darkness) “Violent?”

(Megumin) “Insane?”

(Sitri) “...Well I was going to use nicer words, but considering our first meeting was launching my body into the air and strangling each other-”

(Megumin) “Yeah, most of the time.”

(Kazuma) “House Isekai says you get used to it after a while.”

(Sitri) “I...suppose that’s true. I guess it’s not entirely set in since I’ve only awoken just a few days ago.”

(Aqua) “Alright, these ought to be good. Everyone got something?”

Everyone held up some wood and started to walk back to camp.

(Kazuma) “Oh hey, you finally weren’t useless.”

(Aqua) “Shut up, NEET.”

Sitri looked puzzlingly at them. She could tell they cared about each other, but why were they so...mean?

As they continued to walk, they saw Lahabrea sleeping underneath a tree nearby the camp with Sothis nowhere to be found.

(Aqua) “I got a real bad feeling about him...”

(Kazuma) “I’ve noticed him staring at us, including Sothis while we were walkin down the road.”

(Sitri) “Perhaps there’s a reason he looks like my son?”

(Megumin) “It better be a good one. We haven’t had the best experience with impersonators if you haven’t noticed.”

(Darkness) “Not to mention your resurrection appears to play a key role in all of this as well...”

Sitri looked at her hands and furrowed her brow.

(Sitri) “...Am I?”

(Kazuma) “Well, once we get to Derdriu and meet up with Claude I suppose we’ll get our answer. No use bustin our brains trying to figure shit out so early.”

(Aqua) “Oh hey, you finally said something intelligent-”

(Kazuma) “Fuck off.”

Sitri giggled.

(Sitri) “I guess you were right, you do get used to this.”

(Darkness) “That was....alarmingly fast.”

(Megumin) “Oof, whatever I’m exhausted. Let’s hit the hay yeah?”

(Sitri) “Oh um...”

The four turned around and faced Sitri, eyebrow raised.

(Sitri) “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

[This Beautiful Cruel World - Attack On Titan OST]

They all smiled and raised their arms in unison.

Without another word, the four went to their spot to sleep.

Sitri smiled and was about to sleep when suddenly a pain flashed in her head.

“…I can’t believe I’m missing her.”  

“...do me one favor in case I go down for good this time? Protect everyone else. You’re the only one I can rely on for that.”    

“Do not hesitate to call upon me or the others should the need arise. We will take care of you in these times…”   

“Edelgard, what did you do…?!”

Sitri shook her head once the pain was gone.

(Sitri) “What was that...?”

She looked at the four who were setting up their beds, yelling at each other with profanity.

There was no way they had said all those things at her once.

...So why did their voices sound clear as day, and what was going on?

Her eyes glazed over to Byleth, who was finally put to rest with Megumi, Sara, and some of the other staff and House Reps looking over him.

She then turned to Lahabrea and frowned again.

(Sitri) “What have you started, my son...?”

INTERLUDE: END

Your dream is where your heart is

It’s something more fragile than life itself

No matter how many times you throw it away, you still find it

So rest in peace now

Your wish is violated by your pulsing urge

and as much as you forget about it, you recall it again

In this beautiful and cruel world

We only ask “why” we’re still alive…

Ah, what are we going to protect

with our strength and weakness? If reason no longer exists

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

[flamboyantly-incompetent]

Since the World Began (2/?)

Hades!Bucky x Persephone!Reader

Word Count:  7793

Warnings: maybe a little trauma, nothing major

A/N: So, it’s been a little over a year since the first part of this series was posted - I know a couple people have asked to be tagged in this, so I’m sorry this has taken so long!  The gifs are, surprise surprise, not mine.  This is gonna get hella cute real fast.  And then hella angsty.  I’m sorry (kinda).

Part 1

When you fell for him, really fell, there was no way you could have known the consequences.

As the time passed, so did many mortals, and Bucky found himself busier by the day with the rising population of the underworld.  Sometimes, when you passed by the door in the cliff face, you could see him sitting in the doorway, eyes closed and legs hanging down, bathing in the sunlight so rarely seen.

Joining Bucky in the underworld became a frequent occurrence, and you didn’t mind.  For all the weariness slung on his shoulders, his home put him at ease, and his presence did the same for you.

One such occasion, you’d joined him in the tower as he tried to complete some kingly or otherwise morbid sort of task.  Enthralled in his work, he began to pay you no mind; you draped yourself dramatically over his bed.  When he didn’t look up from his desk, you sighed loudly.  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  You were gaining ground.

Rolling onto your stomach, you opened your mouth to speak and -

Hermes flew through the open window, rustling every rustlable thing in the room.

“Sam!” Bucky exclaimed, trying to keep the papers littering his desk orderly, “You know I hate it when you do that.”

His wings snapped shut with a whoosh and he grinned, “That’s why I do it, Skully.”

“Cheron hates it when you do that - you’re supposed to take the ferry.  Cerberus hates it when you do that; he is especially fascinated by small flying things, he’s gonna be all in a tizzy.  Are you taunting him on purpose?”

“Oh, nuh huh I am never going near that thing, he tries to bite me every time I’m down here.”

“Did you hear a word I just said?”

“I am the messenger, proclaimer of things.”  Bucky huffed as Hermes turned to you.  “Persephone!  Fancy seeing you here.”

“Wilson,” Bucky warned.  Sam winked at you with a cheeky grin; you laughed out loud through the heat on your cheeks.

Sam ignored Bucky completely and continued, “Anyway, I’d love to shoot the breeze some more but I’ve got five more gods to get to by sunup.  Zeus has called a meeting for the Olympians, and I know you aren’t technically on the council, but he wants you both there.  Thanks for saving me the trip.”  He winked at you again, to Bucky’s chagrin.

“No problem.  What’s the meeting about?” you replied, rising to your feet.

Sam only shrugged and unfurled his wings, reaching for a piece of fruit from the bowl by the door.  Before his fingers could grace it, though, his hand was struck by a flying object - an ink well, you thought.  He stared at Bucky, now standing rigid, in shock.

“You really don’t want to do that,” Bucky said, voice low.

Sam gulped, “Right.  Sorry, I always forget that.  Uh, thanks.”  Bucky gave him a nod before he took off, rustling the room once more.

With Sam gone, Bucky finally shot you a glance.  You were smirking at him, altogether too satisfied by whatever thought you had running about inside your head.

“What’s that look for?”

You smiled wider and nudged him in the middle.  “The god of the dead is a big ol’ softie.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” you reached up to poke his reddened ears.  “Your ears give you away every time.”

“I just don’t want that pigeon stuck down here pestering me for all eternity because of an orange.”

“Sure, sure,” you said, giving in but knowing you were, in fact, absolutely correct.  “I wonder what this summons is all about.”

Bucky groaned, massaging his temples. “It can’t be good,” he mumbled.

“What makes you say that?”

He turned to you.  “My family is, well, we tend to get into a lot of drama.”

You took his hand in yours.  “In any case, we should go.”

“But (Y/N),” he whined pitifully, wrapping his arms around your middle.  You giggled into his chest.  “We could just not go.  What’s Zeus gonna do?  Run the underworld himself?”

Still giggling, you pulled out of his grasp.  “Probably not, but we still should go.”  He was unconvinced.  “What if it’s serious?”

“All the more reason to stay down here.”

“Bucky.”

“Oof.  Alright, alright.  D’think Sam would mind if we brought Rus along?”

On your path back to the mortal realm, Bucky tried his best to placate a disgruntled Charon, who began complaining the second you were in earshot about how “gods these days have no respect for the likes of ol’ Charon.”

“I don’t even ask for a tool from Olympians!” he continued on, rowing Bucky and yourself across the Acheron slowly, “Is it really so much for me to ask, as the ferryman of the underworld, that when in the underworld one takes the ferry?”

Bucky nodded sympathetically, as if dealing with a child.  “Trust me, I know.  I tell Hermes every time he’s here.” 

“All I’m asking, is for a little respect.  The whole reason we have the bloody river is to control who gets in -”

“And out.  I know; I asked Poseidon to put them there.”

“Right, sorry.”

As the two of them bickered, you watched the wandering figures on the shore; they were as mournful and despondent as ever.  You had meant to speak to a few this visit, but the thought of seeing Bucky always seemed to take precedence.  It made you sad and ashamed, how often you allowed these pitiful beings to be pushed from your thoughts.

Bucky took your hand when you reached the shore, and you made for the mortal realm when a shade among the moaning fell to his knees at your feet, a river of pleas falling from his open and eerily still mouth.  You recoiled from the dead man’s spirit; his presence felt dank and slimy.

“Persephone, my lady,” his partially disembodied voice entreated, “My family, my wife, I’ve left them with no one, please.”

The look of shock evaporated from your face and with one hand you lifted the man to his feet, your heart sympathetic to his plight.  “What would you have me do”

Slowly and with much effort, he looked this way and that, as if confused and under water.  “Tell them I am sorry, and that I would rather wander the shore than they waste the drachma.”  He paused, surprised you listened still.  “Please, tell them, lady.  I have no other way.”

Bucky, still at your side, simply watched you, waiting for your response.  He needn’t protect you, not from these shades; he’d granted you authority enough already in his heart.

You listened to the spirits words, and imagined the twice-mortal blow of death and abandonment, and reached for his hand.  When his fingertips brushed yours, you saw it - a house, standing somewhat miraculously on a hill by the sea, but one wrong breath from collapse.  In addition, you saw that he had been a pious man, and knew it to be your duty to honor his request in death.

You smiled at him.  “I have passed this place many times; I know it well.  Your family shall hear your message, you have my word.”

The shade thanked you profusely with his motionless mouth, fading back into the others wailing on the shore.

“I don’t think you should have done that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Given him your word,” Bucky explained as the two of you continued on your way.  “You’ll be bound by it now, if you don’t deliver that message there will be consequences.  There are always consequences.”

You huffed lightly.  “I don’t see why that should matter, as I fully intend to visit that man’s family when we’re done on Olympus.”

He paused, glancing at you with a small smile.

“What?”

He laughed, “Nothing, just, sometimes I’m reminded of one of the reasons I love you and I’m, I don’t know, startled?”

A grin spread slow across your face, conquering you.  “Startled?  That’s what you want to go with?  You’re lucky I love you.”

“You don’t have to remind me of that.”

“Really?  I wouldn’t want you to be startled by your good fortune and say something you’d regret.”

“What would I say?”

“Oh I would rather not find out.”

He shook his head, still laughing, and pulled you closer to him.

Rus met you near the door.  He was, in fact, in a bit of a tizzy, bouncing around in circles, whacking the floor and shaking the ground with his tail.  You handled this one.

“Hey Russy,” you cooed at the dog, who only stuck out his tongue, to pant at you.  “Rus, did that big silly bird tease you?”  The beast whined in response, flopping over in anticipation for the inevitable belly rub to come.

Mount Olympus lay only a god’s walk away from the entrance to the underworld.  You and Bucky were nearly there when you were intercepted by a friendly face.

That face appeared in the form of a wall of water that came leaping out of the river you walked next to.

“Steve?” Bucky asked the open air, agitated and soaking wet.  You giggled quietly at the sight and flicked the water off your own hands.  “Steve, I swear, would it kill you to just say, ‘Hi Buck, nice to see you?’“

“Where’s the fun in that?” a voice came from the river.

“Get your scrawny butt up here.”

The man called Steve rose from the river, spraying Bucky once more with water.  “Hi Buck, nice to see you,” he said, grinning shamelessly.

Bucky smiled in spite of himself, and pulled the man called Steve into a bone crushing hug.  “You’re a real punk, you know that?”

“Jerk.”

Bucky pulled back, and gestured towards you, “Steve, this is Persephone.”

Steve reached out to shake your hand; he was quite small, though his eyes held a depth, a sort of ability.  “I’m Poseidon,” he said, “But you’re welcome to call me Steve.”

You smiled warmly, “Call me (Y/N).”

“I take it you’re headed to Olympus?” Bucky cut in.  When Steve nodded he looked to you for a moment then offered, “Walk with us?”

For the rest of the journey, Steve and Bucky swapped stories of silly things they’d seen mortals doing, and, to Bucky’s chagrin, you and Steve swapped stories of silly things you’d seen Bucky doing.  It was a pleasant change from your typical lonely wanderings.

“I’ll admit, Steve,” you started, “I haven’t met many gods yet.  You’re the fifth.  Tony - my mother goddes, Demeter - Bucky, Wanda, Sam of course, and you.  I’m rather nervous.”  You paused, realization flooding through you.  “Oh no, Demeter!  It hadn’t even occurred to me that I’d see him today.  Much has passed since we last spoke.”  Though you couldn’t explain why, the idea filled you with apprehension.

Mount Olympus stood the tallest among the peaks in the range.  On most days, the zenith could be seen with such clarity any mortal could spot the temple that sat there should they know what to look for.  Today, though, the clouds sat low on the mountain, obscuring the gathering from sight.  The mountain top was bustling with activity by the time you arrived at its summit; gods you had never seen before rushed around all about, and Steve was doing his best to point them all out to you.

“That’s Ares, god of war, everybody calls him Rhodey - I think he’s actually pretty good friends with Demeter.  Oh, that over there is Aphrodite, be careful, he’s got quite the temper, I hear - goddess of passion or, something like that.  And that is Athena - wisdom and -”

You cut him off there, “But why is he blue?  And why is he the only one wearing a cape?”

“Vision was born out of Zeus’ forehead.”  Steve shrugged, “He can do what he wants.”  You nodded, a bit overwhelmed.

“Zeus always gets the credit for that,” you spun around to see Tony striding up towards you, “But I did most of the work, you know.”

“Mother goddess!” you let him pull you into a hug.  “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, pumpkin.”  He released you to address your companions, nodding his head politely, if a bit cold, “Poseidon, Hades.”  They nodded similarly, and he turned his attention back to you, “Come, we don’t want to miss Zeus’ opening remarks.”

“We were just on our way, join us, Demeter?”

Tony gave a thin smile and obliged you, taking up his gait on your left.  Bucky remained on your right, though he had allowed some distance to come between you.

The temple where the council held its meetings was designed for twelve, not some odd hundred.  As such, Zeus addressed the throng of deities on the stage of an amphitheater.

“Friends!  Thank you for joining me, I have a very special announcement!” he said, loud, boisterous, and happy, grinning ear to ear.

Bucky leaned towards you to explain, “Zeus’ name is Thor.  He is very...”

“Loud?”

“Yes.”

Zeus continued, “Today, the council says goodbye to its eldest member, and welcomes a new.  Hestia, would you like to say a few words?”  The god called Hestia held himself with a regal demeanor; a soft warmth wafted off of him.

“Hestia is goddess of the hearth.  There’s a people on the African continent that know him as their king.”

“His name?”

“T’Challa.”

Hestia began to speak about the changing of times; Tony took the opportunity to whisper to you, “You and Hades seem rather familiar, dear.”

You blushed and whispered back, “We’ve become friends, yes.”

“I don’t like the idea of you spending so much time together.  He’s dangerous.”

How could you respond to that?  You were Olympians!  All of you were dangerous.  Zeus’ voice cut through your argument, “And so, it is with both sadness and joy that I welcome Dionysus to the council, and bid Hestia a happy retirement.”  Among the gods there was a hodge-podge of arguing, grumbling, halfhearted congratulations and some well-meaning applause.  He continued, unbothered by this response, “Would the twelve Olympians please remain seated, the rest of you are free to go.”

There was a general surge of noise as the whole amphitheater stood.  Bucky gave you a look as he moved off with Steve, which you returned with some apprehension before turning back to your mother goddess.

“Why don’t you like him, mother goddess?”

Tony scoffed, “Ask him why he is god of the dead.”

“Because Zeus made it so.”

“That is why he is king of the underworld, dear.  Ask why he is god of the dead.”  His cold tone struck an uncomfortable chord, and you found yourself unable to look at anything but your hands folded in front of you.

As the gods trickled out of the amphitheater, you bid your mother goddess a strained farewell, making for the home of the shade’s wife.  It was not far in god-stride, and you arrived in the face of a beggar with a gift.

When you arrived, a woman still dressed in the dark robes of mourning stood with her back turned to the road, salty win whipping locks of undone hair about her hung head.  You called out to her, and asked for a moment to rest for a while.  She turned to you, dazed, and invited you inside, where you gave your gift.  It was a jar of honey, which the bees had given up freely to you who was their first caretaker.

You both sat down for a meal.  There were four chairs at the table, and four hooks by the door, but as far as you could feel there was no one else in the house.

When the meal was done, she asked you, “Where do you travel to?”

“I am on my way to fulfill a promise.  It shouldn’t be much longer now.”  That answer seemed to satisfy her, so you asked her, “Who do you mourn for, lady?”

She stood, her every movement languid and melancholy.  “My husband.  I have some wine around here somewhere...?”

“No, I have another gift to give you.”

She looked puzzled and sat back down at the table.

“Where are your children?”

“They have gone.  My husband could leave me no dowry, and my time of childbearing has passed.  My sons are old enough to find work, so I bid them to.”

“Have you no kyrios?”

“When my sons return, I will know.”  She paused, looking worried, “I am afraid I have no gifts to give you traveler.  I haven’t even the coin to pay for my husband’s crossing of the Acheron.  I will be gone before his hundred years are up,” she continued quietly, “so we may at least speak again as lonely spirits.”

“Ah,” you said.  Her head lifted and her gaze met yours.  “That leads me to my second gift.”  You let the illusion drop about you , the blood red sheen of life on your skin obvious in the dull darkness of the house.  “I am the bringer of spring, and I also bring your husband’s words.”

The woman fell to her knees.  “Forgive an old woman who mourns, I have forgotten to wash your feet.”

“I will bring no curse upon your house; this is the favor I spoke of.”  You knelt in front of the woman, grasping her hands.  “Your husband came to me on the shores of the Acheron, and he asked me to tell you that he is sorry.  And to feel no shame in his waiting; that he would rather do so.”

She sniffed a little into her hands.  “I know that you speak the truth.”  The burden of your word was lifted, and you understood what the shade had wanted to ask of you, but hadn’t.  It was something you were happy to give.

You stood, pulling the woman to her feet with you.  “You have been kind to me, and let me ask my many questions.  Your sons will have every beneft I can give to them.”  She thanked you as you bid her farewell, donning your beggar shell once more.  “Gift to me a good life, and that of your children, so we may be friends in Hades after all.”

You walked down the hill until you were out of sight, and you became invisible to mortal eyes again.

Ask why he is god of the dead.  Your mother goddess’ words rang in you ears, persistent, with every step you took back to Hades.  It crossed your mind more than once to find some excuse not to join him again, but your feet refused to consider the idea.

You met him in the asphodel meadows and lingered there, watching the shades speak to each other in apathetic and faint tones, wondering how you could ever breach the subject of Bucky’s authority.  He walked beside you in silence.

Eventually, you said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

Abruptly you stopped and turned him to face you.  “My mother goddess, Tony,” you paused, uncomfortable under Bucky’s gaze, “he told me to ask why you are god of the dead.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but not in anger.  “And is that your question?”

You nodded, guilt already welling in your chest.  The pale glow of the drop of sun Apollo had fixed on the smooth stone ceiling of the underworld did nothing to warm your nervous shivers.

“C’mon, this is a conversation better had with wine.”

“Oh, I thought I wasn’t supposed to-”

“No, honeybee,” he said, chuckling halfheartedly, “it’s for me.”

The two of you climbed the stairs to Hades’ tower in silence.  He gestured to a long, asymmetrical settee which he joined you on.  You took his metal hand in yours.

Before he spoke, Bucky ran his free hand through his hair.  “How much do you know?”  His face was laced with worry; those lines still made your heart ache.

“Only what you’ve told me,” you answered softly.

He began slowly, tasting each word before it left his mouth, with how he and his sibling gods had wound up in the belly of Cronus.  “Cronus lived in constant fear that he’d be overthrown by his children like his father before him, so he prevented a betrayal by swallowing us whole.”

The blue in his eyes held a reserved chill, an icy resentment.  You waited for him to continue, holding your breath.

“Zeus couldn’t set us free until he reached manhood, but even then - we didn’t know.  There was no hope.  Only darkness, and the knowledge that there would be an eternity of it.  Hestia was the oldest, he was trapped there the longest and he was alone for years before I joined him there.  I don’t know how he stayed so sane.  It was... different for me.  By the time Demeter was eaten, I had already gone off the rails.”

He withdrew his hand from yours and continued, “I, (Y/N) I could hear him speak to me.  Cronus.  He spoke terrible, vile things about my mother, my siblings.  He swallowed a whole pack of centaurs once to see if he could goad me into murdering them.  I suppose you could say I was his favorite.”  A rueful smile twisted his face before it softened and his shoulders slumped.  “Steve was trying to knock some sense into me when Zeus cut that bastard open.  That’s how,” he trailed off, gesturing to his metal appendage.  Your hand covered your mouth in distress.  “Then suddenly, we were free.  There was still work to be done, though.  I told Zeus he should just kill me and be done with it, but he said he needed all of our help in fighting the rest of the Titans; it was easy for me, even with only one arm.  Zeus just wanted to imprison them in Tartarus, where they could do no more harm.  When it came time for Rhea, though, I slit her throat.”

Bucky leveled his gaze on you, still holding your breath.  “That is how I came to be god of the dead and death.  It has followed me ever since.”

With great effort, you allowed yourself to breathe.  Your heart pounded in your ears in rage and sorrow.  “Thank you for trusting me with this,” you said.

Bucky shook his head, eyes fixed on his hands.  “It is not a secret; any god would’ve told you the story if you’d asked.”  He paused, chewing his cheek.  “Demeter was right to warn you; I am a dangerous god.”

You bit your lip, thinking.  Of course he was dangerous; that had never been a question.  How could you hope to explain that, while dangerous, he wasn’t a danger to you.  Deciding to climb out on that limb, you asked, “Would you let me show you my home?”

He looked up from his hands with something of relief and curiosity, “I thought your home was wandering the earth conjuring flowers and baby bunny rabbits.”

“That’s not entirely wrong.  It is about time for birthing season.”

“(Y/N),” he began, tense.

With a look you silenced him, and took his hand back into your own.  “Bucky.  Trust me.”

“I trust you.  Are you sure you trust me?”

You raised his hand to your lips.  “I love you.  Will that do?”

He blinked at you.  Then he blinked again.  He leaned into you, resting his forehead on yours, sea green eyes open wide.  “That it will.”

You grinned, hands shaking.  “Come on.  It’s high time I show you something of life.”

He gulped, but allowed you to pull him to his feet.  Bucky held a firm grip on your hand until you reached the other side of the Acheron.  Cerberus was waiting for you both on the shore; the shade that had approached you before presumably satisfied as they all gave you a wide berth. 

“Hey, Rus,” you cooed at the hulking creature, reaching out to scratch behind the nearest ear.  He followed you to the door with silent footsteps that shook the ground, whining softly when you stopped in front of it. 

Bucky caught your eye.  He was putting on such a brave face, but he let you push open the door.  “Do not be afraid.”

Out into the world you ventured.  The sun was out in full force; Bucky squinted at the powerful rays reflecting off the waves. 

You giggled softly, “When was the last time you went outside?”  The wind ruffled his hair and, by Olympus it was lovely.  He shrugged.  “Come on,” you said with a smile.  He followed you obediently across waters and through forests and fields, occasionally glancing back to check the damage of his footsteps, an action that did not go unnoticed by you.  You hoped you were doing the right thing.  You hoped he would understand.

Eventually, you arrived where you’d planned.  To call the patch of grass the doe had chosen a clearing would be an overstatement, but you stopped there nonetheless.  You gestured for Bucky to remain where he was, tucked neatly in the folds of the forest, and stepped into the light.  The deer was not startled by you, welcoming your presence as you approached and knelt in front of her.  Bucky shifted behind you and her head shot up, ear twisting, listening.  

You hushed her, “Shh,” and reached your hand out to Bucky.  He looked at you with an expression quite similar to that of the deer.  They looked at each other, communicating silently for a spell.

With exceptional caution, he approached.

“Is she…?”

“Pregnant?  Very.  It’s just about time.”  He took a sharp breath in; you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Abruptly, the doe got to her feet and began pacing.  In all reality, there wasn’t much you could do for her besides keep her company.  So you did.

The doe curved her back, releasing the first fawn with little difficulty, and began to lick him clean.  Bucky watched, transfixed, as the fawn tried to stand through the resistance of his mother’s care.  

The second fawn was born with more of a struggle.  When he tried and failed to stand, the reason became apparent - his feet were curved at awkward angles, and when the doe began to clean him, white patches in his fur started to show.  

Beside you, Bucky was unnerved.  “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come-”

“This is not your doing.”

“But,” he started, backing away from the fawns, “he…  Something’s wrong.”

You rose to your feet, the sadness of the reality of life weighing your heart.  “It is an unfortunate truth, one that even I cannot change.”  He raised an eyebrow at you, breath still irregular and nervous.  “Trust me a little longer.”

After a spell, the doe and her fawns moved on, the doe keeping a safe distance to distract predators from her new fawns.  The piebald fawn had a particularly hard time keeping up with his family, and it was him that you followed closely.

“My presence cannot bode well for this fawn,” Bucky hissed, following close behind you.  You shushed him gently, knowing he would soon understand if he could endure a bit longer.  “(Y/N),” he started.  Again, you shushed him, with more force this time; you wanted him to pay attention.  Stopping him with a squeeze of his hand, you nodded your head towards the mountain lion that stalked the fawn.

She was poised to strike at every moment, devastating strength thinly contained in muscular shoulders as she moved without sound.  She paid you no mind.

Bucky moved to protect the fawn.

“Just watch.”

His eyes were glossy as he stared at you with confusion, “He will die because of me.”

You paused, looked pointedly at his hand clasping yours and then his steps through the forest.  Or, more, the lack of evidence of his steps through the forest.

The corner of your mouth tugged up a bit at the realization that came over him.  “Trust me,” you implored, the tone of your voice practically begging it of him.  He released a shaky breath and turned his attention back to the predator and her prey.

When she finally did attack, the fawn didn’t even see it coming and it was over as quickly as it had begun.  Bucky held onto you when the fawn’s life fled from it and remained silent while you followed the big cat back to her den.

Inside were three young cubs that tore the carcass apart.

“Why are you showing me this?” Bucky asked in a whisper.

“Because life demands some amount of death.  It isn’t always as balanced or as poetic as this, sometimes it is harsh and bitterly futile, but it is a fact unwavering.  And it does not exist because you made it so.”

“I-I,” he started, pulling away from you, and you wondered if you had made a mistake.  You drew the backs of your fingers down his cheek with a sigh, and told him that he would know where to find you before turning to leave him with his thoughts.

His hand circled around your wrist and pulled you back to him until you were once again staring into the eyes that held the horror of truth.  You shivered.

“Marry me,” he said.

“What?”

“Persephone, (Y/N), please.  Marry me?”  Yes, you thought, your heart pumping blood into your cheeks with fervor.  “I love you, you love me.  Be my wife.  Let me be your husband.”

You laughed when you remembered you’d only thought it.  “Yes,” you said.  The tremor in your voice hinted at tears threatening to spill.

Here you were, Hades and Persephone, harbingers of the living and the dead, in over both their heads in love.  There was no force you could imagine that could ever sever what was forged when you said yes.  You were right, of course, but not for lack of trying.

You married Hades in early dawn on Olympus, the mountain deserted but for you, Bucky, and Zeus.  Cool air rushed through your hair, your hands holding your love’s.  Zeus asked you both if the other was your intended.  The two of you agreed, and there was nothing more to be said.  Each of you had already owned the others heart.

The moment, intimate as it seemed, was not without spectators, and by the time you and your husband reached the foot of the mountain, every god worth gossiping with had heard of your union.

Demeter heard of it while enriching the soil on the land owned by a grain farmer who had been particularly generous with offerings of barley and poppies.  He heard from Dionysus, who had heard from Hermes, who had heard it from Poseidon, who had heard it from the giants whose eyes could see and ears could hear for miles.

Tony sank to the ground in defeat, a storm of half lucid memories gusting through his chest.  The darkness, and fear, and blood.  Malice.  And the darkness.  It always came back to the darkness.  And it had taken his daughter goddess.  He knew there was only one thing he could do - one thing that must be done.

Demeter departed immediately, and marched straight for Mount Olympus.  

He threw open the doors to Zeus’ home and shouted, “Zeus!  You’ve married my daughter to that abomination!”  Thor stood, startled, from his table.  “Well?”

“I have,” Zeus replied, crossing his arms.  “They both consented to it, seemed pretty happy if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Tony snarled.  “You have given my daughter to a treacherous beast without asking me or even telling me.  I would like to know how you intend to retrieve her, because by Olympus you will.

Poseidon, who had just explained to Zeus how his friends the giants had learned of the ceremony to begin with, stood also.  He said cooly, “Your daughter goddess has made her own choice, and she is perfectly safe.”

“Safe?”  Tony rounded on Steve, fear and anger heating his face and his words.  “How could she be safe?  Have you forgotten what he did to our mother?”

Steve shook his head, bewildered, “She let him eat us!”  

Long had it been since they spoke of their years of torment.  Silence fell thick in the house, though outside passersby could hear most of the yelling, and the noise attracted the attention of a friendly looking dog.

Inside, Tony shook his head in despair.  “You always have to defend him.”

“He’s my brother.”

“So was I.”  Tony clenched his jaw, and before Steve could reply, said, “I invoke the rights of the twelve.”

Zeus’ face melted into shock and frustration.  “You cannot declare their union invalid; what has been done cannot be undone.”

“Hades is not on the council; it is within my rights to take back my own kin.  She will be free of his presence tonight.”

The dog outside, having heard Demeter’s plans to banish Persephone from Hades, ran back to her master.  Hecate was on the way back to the underworld, guiding the spirit of a woman carrying the required two coins of silver, when her familiar came bounding up to her, frantic.  Hearing the news for herself, Wanda left the spirit to be guided by the dog as she sped ahead to warn Hades.

She found you together on the Isle of the Blessed dancing with the spirits there around the only thing that could grow so deep in the underworld.  They ate the pomegranates from the tree with gusto, and you laughed in their merriment.  

The joy melted off your faces when you saw her sprinting toward you.

“Hecate!” Bucky said, confused.  He jogged to meet her, and you followed closely behind.  

She explained in gasps of air that Demeter and Zeus intended to remove you from Hades and the underworld.  Bucky took a sharp breath in and drew you into him.

“But,” you said, holding onto Bucky’s hand on your waist, “How can they do that?  It must be my mother goddess, but he has no right!”

Wanda shook her head, “He has invoked the rights of the twelve.  He has every right.  Hades, they will be here soon.”

Bucky nodded grimly, “I did not notice Demeter at first.  His authority feels similar to (Y/N)’s, but I can feel Zeus now.  Poseidon is with them also.”

“Go,” Wanda said, “Beg for them to reconsider.  Persephone, you should hide.”  

Bucky kissed your hand sweetly and whispered, “I will do anything I can, my morning glory, I promise.”  Then he turned from you and raced off to his tower in the distance.  His absence from you pulled your gut like a riptide.

The spirits on the Isle gathered around you, sensing your distress.  “What can we do, mistress?  What is the matter?” they asked. 

“Where can I hide?” you asked.

They whispered among each other.  “The only place outside the sight of Zeus is Tartarus, but you should not go there.  It is dangerous, even for divine ones.”

You looked from Hecate to the spirits, to the looming darkness you could not see, your heart racing.  Your hands shook.  Light flashed from the tower.  Lightning.  “I - I must.  Zeus is here, and I must hide.  Hecate, will you come with me?”

She stood very still, her eyes fixed on the tower.  “(Y/N), we cannot go there; there are dangers there we know nothing of.”

You nodded, understanding her fear.  “I cannot leave him.”  She called after you as you ran, your mind made up, but all you could hear was the thudding of your own heart and your own feet against the ground.  The darkness began as a low presence in the distance, and grew like smoke clouds as you drew nearer.  The darkness wasn’t nearly as horrible as the smell, a sickly sweet smell of rot, and the sounds, low rumbling of a mountain turning over and screams the likes of which you had never heard.  

The threat of separation from the one you held most dear spurred you on beyond all fear and all reason.  You would hide there, dangers be damned.  Literally.

Under the cloudy darkness, there was a deep depression in the ground with steep slopes all around, surrounding an enormous grate of enchanted iron.  You stood at the edge of this depression and peered into the darkness.  Through the holes in the grate, you could just barely make out the shadows of spirits fleeing, and the shadows of things much larger that devoured them.

One giant eye opened up altogether too close to the grate for your liking.  A voice spoke, crooked and gravelly, and eternally deep, “Zeus can still see you there, life-walker.”

You looked over your shoulder, afraid you’d see that tell-tale lightning.  “How do you know who I am?”

The eye blinked.  “I see everything, even from this prison your husband the murderer and his brothers have locked us in.  Though, he could not see you if you stood on the grate.”

“Why should I trust you?  Who are you?”  You asked though you feared you knew the answer.

“By all rights, I am your grandfather, Persephone.”  Cronus laughed.  “You know that you are the first of my offspring to visit me in this pit?”  At your silence, a giant hand swiped at the grate, only to be deflected long before coming into contact with it by whatever enchantment had been placed upon it.  “See?  You have nothing to fear from me.  I could do nothing to you were you not the Queen of this plane.”  

“You can see everything?”

“That is what I said, yes.”

You climbed down the slope carefully.  “Can you tell me what’s happening in Hades’ tower?”

“I can show you.”

In Hades’ tower, he paced, frantic and running his hands through his hair.  “Thor, please,” he said, hands clasped in front of him, “you know she is in no danger - I love her!”

Zeus stood next to your mother goddess, expression pained.  Demeter, however, was livid.  “No danger?  How can she be in no danger when she is here?  This is the home of death and monsters, you yourself have seen to that.”

“Tony,” Zeus said, his tone warning.

“I want her home, with me.”

Poseidon gestured out the window with exasperation.  “She won’t want to leave.  Her husband is here.”

“This is none of your concern, Steve.  Where is she?”

Bucky turned to your mother goddess.  The expression on his face broke your heart, shattered.  “Demeter, Tony, if you do this I will-”

“What, Hades?  Huh?  Kill me?”

Bucky was taken aback.  “I will never recover.”

You could see Tony’s resolve falter, but a second later his expression hardened again and he growled, “Where is she?”

If there was no way you could convince your mother goddess to let go of this fear, to let you love who you did, and if there was every possibility that if you left with him you would never see Bucky again… then hope was lost.

Cronus spoke again, “Demeter is right, this place is filled with monsters, your husband non excluded.”  A tendril of smoke had crept through the grate and began wrapping itself around your leg.  You recoiled in disgust, climbing out of the pit.

“The only monster here has been locked away, and I hope he rots there,” you spat.

“Be careful, child,” he said, his eye closing, “There are powers here still greater than you, and they do not forget in waking or slumber.”

At his words, you remembered something Charon had said, an age ago.  We didn’t make the rules, kid.  Once again,  you ran.  There was hope; it was a desperate sort of hope, but you knew what you had to do.  You ran back to the Isle of the Blessed, back to the tree that grew there, and plucked a pomegranate from the branch, four figures on the horizon.

“Persephone!” Hecate said, “No!”

“Wanda, there is no other way.”

“There is always another way.”

The figures were getting closer.  “Can you think of one in the next three seconds?”  She could not.  “Then help me!  Please, I know what I’m doing.  I will not leave him.”

They were close enough to see you now.  “(Y/N)!” Bucky called out to you.  Your eyes locked.

“Please,” you begged.  Wanda shook her head, distraught.  She pulled a dagger from an inner layer of her priestess robes and handed it to you.  You only managed to cut twelve seeds from the fruit by the time they made it to you, and you only ate half of those before your mother goddess wrestled the rest from your hands.

“Stop!  Persephone, please!” he shouted.  “What have you done?”

“I will not leave him.  And now you cannot force me.”

Zeus picked up the fallen pomegranate, pale.  Bucky had two thin tear lines streaked on his cheeks.  Steve put his head in his hands.  Wanda backed away into the shadow of the realm.

Your mother goddess, Tony, held both your hands.  “You, you are trapped here forever now.”

You squeezed his hands, desperate to make him understand.  “I know.”

The weight of what you had knowingly done set in, and your heart began to ache again.  It seemed there was no way to win.

“Thor,” Bucky said, “there must be something you can do.”

Tony rounded on him.  “What do you care?  You got what you wanted.”

“You think this is what I wanted?!”

Zeus held up a hand.  “(Y/N), how many seeds did you eat?”

“Six,” you said.

He pursed his lips for a moment, brows creased and stroking his beard.  “Yes, I think that could work.  It wasn’t the whole fruit, after all,” he muttered to himself.  You took Bucky’s hand, fingers interlaced, and held each other tight.  “And it is still, technically eternal.”

“Thor?” Steve spoke up, “You gonna clue us in?”

“It’s not ideal, but I’ve thought of a possible loophole.  In accordance with both invoking the rights of the twelve and the laws of the Titans before us, Persephone will be banished to this plane for six months of the year, and from it the rest.  Does that work for you?”

“No!” Tony and Bucky shouted at the same time.  Zeus shook his head and pointed at you.

“Me?” you asked, “That sounds like the best we’re going to get.”  You squeezed Bucky’s hand in reassurance. 

He looked at you, exhausted and burdened with troubles, his thumb ran circles over the back of your hand.  “I think you might be right, dove.  I just-”  his voice caught in his throat.

“I know,” you murmered.  The back of your hand stroked against his cheek.  “What about now?” you asked Zeus, “Am I trapped here now?  The world is not ready for me to be gone that long.”

“Then we must move quickly,” Zeus replied, gesturing toward the tower, and, further, the Acheron and the door.  “We don’t want to press our luck, especially here.”

Nodding, you hid the rogue tears that escaped your eyes from your mother goddess and your husband.  Bucky accompanied you to the edge of the Acheron.  Zeus followed your mother goddess onto Cheron’s ferry.  “I will be back,” you told Bucky, tapping his chest, “and I will be counting the days.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Posieden cut in, “(Y/N), we need to go.”

With leaden feet, you tore yourself from your husband’s arms, and followed Steve onto the ferry.  You watched Bucky, standing alone on the shore, until he was lost from your sight.  Cheron was uncharacteristically silent.

On the other shore, Rus was waiting.  

His eyes were dark, and something in his demeanor changed when he sniffed the air above you.

“Rus?”  All six of his eyes snapped onto you and you understood.  “I know, I’m going, I’m sorry.”  He growled at you, a vicious and low dragging sound, and watched you like prey until you fled out the door.

In your hurry, you missed the step and slid down the steep, rocky slope until your toes  reached the tide of the island.  Shocked, you blinked at the ocean, expecting it to somehow reflect some, any change.

Your mother goddess slid down beside you.

“(Y/N),” Tony began, “(Y/N), I just wanted to protect you.”

Seething, you rose to your feet.  “How dare you decide what that looks like? You have ruined me and doomed this world through your deliberate blindness!”  He recoiled from your rage, and you drew back the tendrils you’d loosed. Zeus and Posieden watched awkwardly from the door.  You sighed.  “Everything I am comes from you, but the next time you presume to make my decisions, don’t.”

You held up a hand to prevent any more of Tony’s words, and set out alone across the sea to begin your half year of banishment. 

During this time, you found a small pocket of comfort in nurturing new lives, helping the saplings to find the sunlight and the calves to follow their herds.  But you missed him dearly.  It was an ache you fancied you could feel in the blossoms you encouraged to open.  The only cure for it was to wander as far as you had before you’d met him.  

So, you wandered.  Melancholy and in love, you wandered.  The forest and grassland that sprang from your steps grew in the shape of your heartache.  It would have seemed beautiful to you had it not been so irritating in its accuracy.

You watched the mortals build their temples and weave their legends; you watched them live and love with some amount of envy.

When the time came close for you to rejoin your husband again, you reversed your wandering.  Sleep, you whispered, I will wake you when I return.  As you left the forests, the animals found places to rest, and even the trees fell into their mighty slumber.  When you were satisfied, your feet carried you from across the world back to that forsaken and blessed door.

Cheron greeted you as you boarded his raft, and with every push of his long pole you felt yourself drawing closer to your husband.  Again, he saw you long before you saw him.  You could not see him on the shore when you stepped off the raft, but he could see you.  You were just as beautiful as you’d been all that time ago, but you had acquired an age.  The steps you took were no longer out of innocent joy but necessity.  He squared his shoulders and stepped out of the shadows to speak to you.

You felt his presence before he could speak a word.  

He said, softly, in the voice of a broken man, “Lady.”

@thelureabove​ @slender--spirit​ @egos-r-life​ @punkgirl-pinkbows​ @i-never-said-i-care​ @elsasshole​

[nish-with-no-niche]

When No One's Around...

Chartered accountant!Jaebeom x Software engineer!Reader

Summary :

Ever wonder how much alcohol tolerance can Jaebeom have for you? Read till the end to find out ;)

Warning :

1) This chapter.....is a long ass ride.

2) I know some people prefer using their name, but I only realised it later that instead of (Y/N) I accidentally gave reader-nim a name, i.e, Yeseul. So kindly bear with me as it's my first time writing a 2nd person perspective and just imagine your own name in its place. Thankyou and.....enjoy!

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You finally had finished your board meeting and were heading out of the office building with your co-workers to retire to your humble abode.

"It's 7:37 pm ladies and gentlemen, and we are finally free for the night.", said Sarah, one of your close colleagues.

"Aaaand we're leaving 2 hours later than the designated office hours. This is over time!", exclaimed Kyunghwan, your senior, and sales manager. It was totally unusual but justified for everyone to feel this way. After such a heated discussion about the proposals everyone was exhausted and acted dramatically. Even though they were your seniors, almost everybody still treated each other without the honorifics outside of work; albeit they could seem eccentric given the time and place. You yourself had experienced it first hand and maybe tonight had just a little bit more in store for you.

" Everyone, I totally understand how you must feel.....", stated Mr. Yoon-ho, the team director. "We, are not getting paid enough. Let's go to a restaurant and give ourselves a well deserved treat. The person who is wearing blue today will be the ones to pay up!", came his suggestion.

Hearing his sudden offer, each person constituting the 8 people group cheered and hooted but started checking their dress colours as the realization hit in. 'Oh thank god, I'm wearing anything but blue today' , everyone thought simultaneously.

However everyone's eyes landed on you as you were the only one wearing a turquoise blue ruffle shirt with beige coloured cigarette pants. And everybody knew exactly where that suggestion in the director's mind had come up.

' Oh lord, it's Yeseul again.'

Firstly, Yoon-ho was a huge-ass spend-thrift. Even if he knows he wont eat or use something, he would still spend money on it. Especially when it's someone else's money.

And secondly, he despised you. You and your intelligence. And the fact that you were humble made it even worse for him.

Atleast one can hate on arrogant people for their arrogance. As for humble people, we can't even hate them for anything, much less like. Tch.

Sarah, concerned for you asked if you were okay with that. Not that you really had a choice in the first place.

But you had stopped listening-in to their conversation, midway. Because your eyes were solely fixated on this unexpected visitor, standing right across the road, leaning against his car and looking right at you.

Im Jaebeom, your soon-to-be fiancè, in all his glory was right in front of you and you had no idea what he was doing there.

"Sarah, I'll see you later."

Coming to your senses after 3.57 seconds, you waved back at him and quickly crossed the road to reach him.

" Yeseul, hey" started Jaebeom.

"Uh, hi! I didn't know you were here. How have you been?", unsure, you asked him.

"I've been good. I got off work early today so I decided to pick you up like a responsible boyfriend", smirked Jaebeom.

He had his hands in his pant pockets the whole time, was wearing a suit with his hair gelled up and looked like the epitome of a perfectly successful banker.

"How long had you been waiting?", you questioned. "Not too long, about 20 minutes? .... Yeah. Don't worry though, I was busy on my phone." He lied. He knew you'd feel even worse about the truth because in reality he had been waiting for you since two hours thirty-seven minutes and sixteen seconds.

But even then you insisted, " Now this makes me look really bad. You didn't have to come all the way here. Why didn't you call me?"

"I wanted to be here", he replied cheekily and pat your head. "And it was a good surprise, wasn't it?"

(Sighing) "what if I already went home or I was staying in late?"

"Well then lets just say I got lucky" he smiled.

You were about to say something further, but he cut you in, " By the way, your...... colleagues, they seem... expectant?" Looking back at them you see them all wide-eyed and smiley-faces as if they just didn't come out of an exhausting office day. Realizing their expressions , you turned and asked Jaebeom, " oh, um, Jaebeom-shi, you're not too tired, right? Have you eaten something?"

"No, not really, why?"

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" HA, HA, HA, HA, HA! WHAT A NIGHT MAN, WHOO!!" roared a drunk Mr. Yoon. "Wow, Yeseul, you have such a nice boyfriend, he's a keeper, hahahaha. Everyone! say, 'THANKYOU IM JAEBEOM-SSI!'.

Bashfully, everyone complied, giving you sorry smiles and yet enjoying the food and drinks in front of them as if it was their first time eating.

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Since the time the talks of you about to being engaged rounded up in the halls of your office, everybody had been eager and curious to meet this Mr. Perfect who they had only seen in photos. Everyday not only the women but also your male coworkers would come over at your desk asking you to set up a get together with him.

They all wanted to know who this mysterious person was, taking a liking for someone as stoic as you. They never imagined you being in a relationship with anyone- always holding the title of 'Fashion Femme Fatale'.

So now here you were- with Jaebeom- and a gang of 8 people who were doing nothing but wasting Jaebeom's hard earned money.

Yes, he offered to pay up in your stead.

Ah! So chic!

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You were getting really uncomfortable because you felt bad for Jaebeom who was nothing but sweet to everyone all this time. You were barely starting off in a relationship and now he had to witness all of ....... this.

You wanted to just take your bag and run away with him.

"Hmm, Yeseul , how long has it been since you guys started dating?" Asked Yoon-ho.

Huh?

" uh, it's been about...... 2 months?" you replied looking at Jaebeom for confirmation. After getting his nod of approval you continued, "why do you ask though, sunbae-nim?"

"Ah! I didn't get to congratulate you. First of all....... let me pour you a drink!"

"What, out of nowhere?"you retaliated.

"Ahem! I'm your superior."he countered. "You didn't even touch anything yet, Drink~ bottoms up~~".

In the midst of his coercions, you contemplated- 'Why... do I get intimidated by Yoon-ho ssi? .... Soju's too strong ...... Jaebeom won't be able to drive if he drinks it.... house is far tooo. *sighs* it's over for me if I get drunk and act like an idiot in front of them.... hhnnngg. But if I refuse, the mood will get cold.... last time I was fine for the first few drinks, right?-"

"Give it to me."interceded Jaebeom.

"Huh?"

Turning towards the crowd, he stated, "Yeseul's bad with alcohol. I'll drink for her."

"Ooo~ hahahaha~~"

"playing the knight for your girlfriend ? ~~ "

"so cool!! Whoa~"

Sighing you looked at him, starting to get a little worried. But suddenly everyone chimed in- "still! We're not satisfied with one drink!"

"Let's get Yeseul-ah drunk~!"

"Me too!"

"You cant resist our drink! We're your superiors!"

"Aah~ now, let's not push her too hard. Take it slow. Slow~" said Yoon-ho, giving you his ever so sweet smile.

'It is you I hate the most!' You thought.

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"Aah~ Jaebeom-ssi drank them all"

"~Food is great here!"

"Heard this is the hidden place for gourmets."

After a while things seemed to settle down, your thoughts again wandered towards Jaebeom-

'He keeps on tapping his fingers and feet.... all the while maintaining his smile. I wonder if he's getting bothered by them..... ' -

"Hey~ she cant take her eyes off her BOYFRIEND!" chirped Yujin( colleague, same age as you). Following suit everyone got started off- "He's good looking right?" " you didn't even glance at the others ~" "what ? No, when did I.. " you tried to defend yourself. Sarah who was sitting next to you all this time whispered, "don't take them too seriously 'seul- ah, they're only teasing you, and you know everyone is as good as drunk."

Suddenly Kyunghwan, who was sitting opposite to you, waiting for the right opportunity slipped in~ " You can take mild Brandy right?"

"Ah yes, I can"

"NO." Jaebeom interceded. Again.

He took the glass from his hand and drank it.

"Aish intercepting it all, gosh!"he exclaimed.

But leaving no stone unturned, he kept pressing, "hey! You guys are a couple, atleast show us a kiss!" And everyone started hooted demanding such a public display of affection.

Hearing this, your ears flared up, " oof, what's with you all? Dont you think it's too much? ..... please stop it already. I dont really want to do it. ........Why do we have to do it in front of you?"

Now this... was just too much. Right when you were about to give them a piece of your mind-

"Okay."Jaebeom announced.

" ...... "

" ....... "

" ....... "

What.

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The truth is that both of you had never really kissed before, the closest form of affection you were able to showcase for now was simply a hug, that too only when you were alone. You had no idea what went through his mind when he agreed to everyone's plea. Was he finally drunk? You had never seen him drunk before, all though a few of his friends that you had met told you he had a strong temperance. Maybe this was okay for him?.... Did he probably hear it wrong? Not being able to make head or tail of the situation you questioned him, "Jaebeom-"

"You....... and you." Cutting you off, said person pointed at Kyunghwan and then at Yujin.

"If you two do it, we'll do it too. In fact, it doesn't matter if any other two do it either." explained Jaebeom with a smile.

And then you realised what he was actually doing.

"Don't want to, right?..... I stink of alcohol and 'seul said she doesn't want it. Moreover, it won't look good, if a lady's colleagues at work would act like this, much less her seniors."

"Uh. . . . " a flustered Yujin tried to speak.

" Well I wasn't going to force her to do that" resigned Kyunghwan with a pout.

"Yeah let's just forget about it, okay guys? ", Sarah spoke.

"Wow~ get married already Yeseul, reqally" Said Yoon-ho.

"Such a perfect couple. Tch" mumbled Yujin.

However, when everyone went back to their own, Kyunghwan caught Jaebeom giving him a side glance with a poker face who then turned to look at you. Even though such a gesture unnerved him, the alcohol immediately brushed off that feeling.

You on the other hand were getting more and more worried about Jaebeom, you lost count of how many glasses he must've had on your account, and tried one more time to check up on him- " are you alright? You've been really drinking a lot." But he only gave you a smile in return.

(Sighing) 'He drank way too mu-' *plop*

His head suddenly on your shoulder now, he spoke, " I want to rest."

Looking at you Sarah whispered," He must be tired, you should go home now, don't worry, I'll take care of it here."

"Okay. Jaebeom-ssi ....... Jaebeom? Let's go home now, ok?" You asked.

"Seul."

"Yes?"

"My head aches."

"What? Headache?"

"Its too noisy here..... my head aches.....". Alarmed by this sight you wondered ' 'why's he like this ? Since the start he seemed a bit off. Is his head hurting from being drunk? This was such a bad idea."

You see him gently lift his head up and stare at his hands. Or the table. Or the plate? You see jaebeom blink.

"..."

And he blinked again.

'Ohmygod,he's definitely drunk.'

" uhh, hey- let's go get some fresh air, okay?" You asked holding him by the shoulders. You never witnessed something like this before. But he just stared at you.

'Answer me already.' You thought. Helping him stand up you took your bag, "okay, Sarah, we'll be leaving now, I'll catch you tomorrow, take care!"

"Yeah, you too, goodnight~" returned Sarah.

Once outside you tried to remember where the car was, since the restaurant didn't have a parking lot. You walked a few meters and then stopped. Due to him leaning on you, your back and neck hurt a little, so you decided to sit on the nearby bench. 'Ah, I'm out of strength.'

You both just sat next to each other like that for a while and then you asked him where the car was kept.

But he just smiled at you.

Heaving a sigh, you stood up and started searching around. "Just sit here, and dont move Jaebeom- ssi, I'll be right back." He saw your retreating figure as you left.

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After about 10 min you find the car at the backside of the building and return to where Jaebeon was.

"I found the car, give me the keys and I'll drop you off home" you said.

"Yeseul."

"Yes?"

He smiled. Again.

"Seems like you won't get up for a while." So you sat down. Did he even listen to a word you said? And no sooner than you did, he reached his hand out to touch your face, whereas you instinctively moved back. He paused for a moment, mid air, and then touched your cheek. "You look tired", he said thoughtfully.

Well he wasn't completely wrong.

He let his head drop on your shoulder, and again with the same sweet, mellow voice recited you name," Ye.seul.ah."

"Yes, yes I hear you." You laughed.

"I should've just left with you after work was over rather than come here. Everyone just wanted to meet you so bad. I'm sorry."

" . . . "

"Plus I didn't want you to pay for those guys." You confessed.

"Pay?", queried Jaebeom. "seeing how they sat and behaved with you , it's obvious that they were trying to leech off." He finally spoke.

" Yeseul, I want you to be very cautious and smart about who you associate yourself with in that work place and any where else. I won't always be around you, so you must be wary of people like Kyunghwan. Got it?" And then he lifted his head up to stare straight ahead.

So that's what was bothering him.

Trying to lift the strange tense atmosphere you spoke in childish wonder, "how dare they think of you as a pushover! In fact, why did you even drink whatever came my way, I could've handled-"

"What would you have done?" Cut in Jabeom.

You fell silent.

"Those two men and that woman, those three were your seniors. And anyone could notice how they exploited their position. I understood you couldn't do much from where you stand", he reprimanded you.

After a pause he continued, now in a smaller voice- "I dont think I can drive, how will you get back home?"

" Well thanx to a certain someone, I'm completely sober. So I'll drive your car to your house and drop you off. Then I'll take a cab to mine."

" 'seul?"

"Hmm?"

"You like me right?"

"Huh", you sat up straight, taken off guard by his question.

"You're sincere to me right? Whatever I do, I have always been sincere towards you."

Suddenly flustered by this uncharacteristic side of him you just tried to avoid his question, staring straight ahead.

"Just give me the car keys, let's go home now..." you said in a daze.

'Its definitely the alcohol in his brain.'

"Yeseul!"

"Ah, yes-"

chu!~~

"Wha..."

Chu!~~~

Jaebeom kissed you.

And the realization hit in.

Huh.

Huh???!!

" #$%@&**?! Jaebeom-!!! "

" ? "

"What are you ?! Why did you?!-"

"Hm? What? No one's around."

And he kissed you again. This time properly. Making you feel nothing like ever before.

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Sadly, he ended up passing-out right after and you drove him back to his house, aided the house-helper lay him on bed, took a cab, went back to your home, changed into your night clothes, slipped in your bed and you laughed. You laughed until sleep graced you with her presence.

Except she never came.You were awake the whole night, rewinding and playing the scene again and again with the thought that would nag any other girl in your shoes- 'How do I see him after tonight! '.

Adjshklllajsldgddhddfffff !!!!!!

Eeeek!

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That's the end readers! I hope you enjoyed it my very precious people. If you did then do like and comment. Feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤧🤧

And I wish for your good health in such times and hopefully I was able to help make this quarantine maybe a little more bearable for you. Thanx for reading and dont forget- You Da Best!!!

[bonsaiiiiiii]

FabFiveFeb 2020 - Gordon, week 2

"How did you do that?"- Prompt 3

(I made the first fanfic I could ever make using one of the prompts of @gumnut-logic . I apologize if it's too small but this was all I could come up with. Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy it!♡)

I rested without any trace of hope left in the doorway, watching faithless as my twin-in-age Gordon tried incredibly to knot his yellow flower-themed tie.

Seriously, that boy has a very strange taste in clothing.

"You can always help me instead of looking at me!" he shouted from the depths of his closet, to then appear again, sweaty in the face with only his yellow fishy boxers and shirt on, trying again to knot the tie, resulting in suffocating himself in one way or another.

I didn't move or react in any way in witnessing this scene; me and Gordon got to a point of our friendship where one of us could get dressed or undress in front of the other without squeals or screams.

From his side, I was -and am- the first person outside his family he could be himself with. Since I came around 5 months ago, he had no problems in creating the best friendship with me, and the best part was that we're not looking for something more than that, and we are perfectly okay with our beautiful friendship (bromance if you listen to Gordon).

From my side, I was comfortable with almost everything. Dressing and undressing was something I was comfortable to see with many of the family members, apart naturally from Scott, Alan and John. The eldest was always the eldest, and the only times I saw him half naked were at the pool in his swimming trunks, same for John. It wasn't a necessity, but if one of them wasn't comfortable with something I do, I always tried not to push his buttons.

With Alan the situation was different. I was actually the one to dress him up with something better than that almost bleached green shirt he was affectionate to. Not that I wanted to take it away from him, but wearing the same thing everyday is a bit too much, well, for me. The thing helping me is that he doesn't complain, apart from the fake growls.

"And miss this wonderful show? No, nah." I laughed at Gordon while tucking graciously a strand of my sky blue hair behind my ear.

He turned at me red in the face fuming with that tie. "Come on! I don't have much time until my date with Lady P, and if I'm not ready she will dump me!"

"She will dump you anyways, considering what you want to wear." I frowned, looking at the bright yellow suit pants. "I mean, look at that! She wants to take you to a fancy restaurant, and while she will dress with something good and sexy you will wear..this?" I stepped outside the room. "Where is the key to this room? You need to be locked away for good!"

"Okay, stop bullying me! I'll change! Oof..." he huffed.

It always works. He launched himself again into the closet, to then fish out a black suit.

"Ah, this is better! You can actually keep the tie, if you know how to knot it.." I pronounced the last sentence with a mischievous tone, looking at his face. He glared a murderous look in my direction.

In that moment Scott appeared from the end of the hallway, approaching me from behind and putting his elbows on my shoulders, while resting his chin comfortably on the top of my head.

I am way shorter that him, with a solid 4'9, a garden gnome practically. With his 7'0 he towered over me, and by much.

He always looks at me like a little sister he has to take care of, and he often teases me for my weight putting things that I need on the top shelf, so that I have to call him to get what I want for me.

But I always call Virgil.

Between me and Scott it has always worked like that; it's our way to love each other. He's an affectionate type of person once you know him enough to let is walls slide aside for you amd let him show you how he's really on that big softie heart inside.

"Alice! Gordon again?"

"Mh, yeah." I nodded.

I huffed, to then free myself from Scott's grip and go to Gordon and his damn tie. I set free the tie he managed to double knot and relocated it around his neck at the limit of exasperation. Then I took a deep breath, and with a round movement i knotted his tie in 3 exact seconds.

Gordon looked at me in shock.

"How did you do that?!" He shouted at the limit his voice could consent him.

I shook my head. "As a certain spaceman would say, 'Phisics, nothing simpler*.'"

A heartfelt laugh came from the hologram, revealing John. "It was just a tie, but I admit you tied it pretty fast."

"Meh, I'm a fast learner."

Then I watched blankly as Gordon put faster than light his black suit jacket on and rushed outside his room.

With only his boxers underneath.

His yellow fishy boxers.

"Wasn't Penny here earlier?.." I trailed off, looking in the direction he rushed out.

"Don't tell me he's going to go to Lady P like that?" Scott said amused.

Whatever I was going to say remained in my mind as we heard a female scream resonating in the house."GORDON!!" However, the voice was much older than Penny's. I took the guess that grandma intercepted and stopped him before making the worst shitty figure he could ever do.

We looked each other in the eyes for a split second to then burst out laughing violently. I immediately went to the floor, while Scott held for dear life at the door jamb, red in the face; John covered his mouth while laughing non-stop.

Gordon came from the hallway purple in the face from embarrassment as we continued laughing. "Stop laughing!!" He shouted at the limit of exasperation and embarrassment.

"Oh, where is my popcorn when I need it?" Scott said, wiping away the laughing tears from his face as he shook his head repeatedly.

*I'm actually too lazy to search up what he exactly said😅😂

[erintoknow]

the glass labyrinth

fallen hero fanfiction time; i think this clocks in at the second longest singular fanfic i’ve written oof. ~7.1k words [ao3]

this might be easier to read on AO3 where it’s broken into chapters. :v

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Take a breath, hold it, let it out. You are not Ariadne Becker. Not here. Not now. You are Adrestia, your suit the color of empty void reflecting no light, cape drawn tight around your shoulders further obscuring your form. Only the mirrored treatment of your helmet betrays you as still human. Still needing to see, still needing to be seen.

Your first goal is to secure the regenerator of course. The miracle device that could be your best ticket out of the mess you’ve dug yourself into. There it is, behind glass, under watchful eye. So close. Two parts to contend with. A central core housing the experimental technology and on a  pedestal beside in a too-plain looking briefcase. The schematics to assemble the rest of the unit.

What will the finished product look like? Baptismal font or casket?

“Adrestia. Imagine, meeting you here.”

You turn and there’s a moment of disorientation. Since when are you as tall as Dr. Mortum? – You aren’t Jane. Mortum’s expression is cold but polite. You have to assume she knows that you know about her attempts to get Jane to quit. Her plans to do the same. What’s her play here?

You give a slight bow, and mimic the cold curtesy in her voice. “Dr. Mortum.”

“It occurs to me that this is the first we have met in person.”

You spread your arms wide, twirling your fingers. “And now we have. Am I everyth–thing you hoped for, doctor?”

There’s a brief flash of annoyance and then Mortum regains control of her poker face. “You’ve been taking good care of the armor, I see.”

“You did good w–work.”

“I… you’re welcome?” She hadn’t expected that.

Maybe you can still salvage this. Get her back on your side. You let your arms drop to your sides. “Look, I’m… sorry.”

“Sorry?” The confusion is plain in her voice. “For what?”

“I…” You laugh, then cut yourself off with a wince. The voice filter warps everything. “I th–think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Dr. Mortum’s expression hardens, her eyes narrowing. “If you’ve hurt her–”

“Her? Oh.” Shit. This might have backfired. “Doctor, I would never hurt her.”

Does she believe you? You wouldn’t, coming from someone that looks and sounds like you do. This was a mistake. Reaching out is always a mistake. When will you learn?

“So you say,” Dr Mortum confirms your fear. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” She turns away from you, slips past the gawkers come to check out the auction items ahead of time. You move to follow after her but the crowd doesn’t exactly leap out of your way.

You haven’t exactly been making friends either within Los Diablos’s self-proclaimed ‘villain’ community. Just because you’re all on the wrong side of law now… it doesn’t make you allies. And how many remember Sidestep? You’d swear you recognize a few faces, a few suits. Is that Sharkinator at the bar? You’d recognize the sharkhands anywhere. There’s a blast from the past. When did he get out of Prison?

Are you imagining the eyes burning a hole in the back of your head or are you really being watched? The Boulevard Casino is coated in the hum of telepathic dampeners, a hissing static beyond hearing. If it wasn’t for the physical proximity of the Rat-King, slipping it’s telepathic presence between you and the hum like a shield you’d already be clutching your head in a migraine by now.

Would sneaking in have been better? There’s no point wondering now. You don’t need to worry about evading cameras and security this way. Dampeners, radio jammers, cameras, good old fashioned armed men in fancy suits. Hollow Ground’s security is not messing around.

That’s fine, neither are you.

There’s a pressure on your attention, an urging from the Rat-King. You let it turn you, guide your sight. A woman moving through the crowd, tall, taller still by the antlers spiraling up from a helmet in the shape of an antelope skull. She’s armored, head to foot. Brown faux-leather, almost certainly masking proper armor underneath by the bulk of the thing. Gloved hands hide her skin. Her boots are made up to look like cloven hooves that add to her stature. 

Not exactly a practical outfit.

Why is the Rat-King pushing you towards her? The dampeners prevent that. Wait, is that.. Oryx? Small time hitman. Or… hitwoman, you suppose. Was supposed to have fled town awhile ago after a job turned bad. Not that you would have had anything to do with that, of course. You don’t have the time in the day to personally meddle in everyone’s illegal business.

Something… isn’t right with her though. Her movement is… too smooth? Or not smooth enough. Like she doesn’t belong here. Is she going to be trouble? You need this to go off perfectly, you can’t afford any potential complications.

It’s not hard to pick out her path. She’s sticking to the walls, you could intercept her, pull her into an empty side-room before she reaches the auction hall.

No one even bats an eye as you step out from behind the curtain and grab Oryx by the shoulders, pull her backwards into the room. She grunts, elbows you in the stomach to get free and drops into a combat stance as you step backwards.

You raise your arms, try to control your heart rate. That snarl, the way she balances herself, positions her arms. Jesus christ, it’s Argent behind that mask isn’t it? Just your fucking luck. If she has any sanity she won’t risk a fight here. Not under Hollow Ground’s nose. “I d–don’t want a fight.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

“It’s– it’s easier to to talk in private, w–wouldn’t you say…” You incline your head, exaggerating to make the gesture visible through your helmet, “Argent?” Fuck, you need to get it under the control. Adrestia can’t stutter.

There’s silence, and then Argent crosses her arms with a small laugh. “You’re always the worst.”

You put your arms down, “I’d say the same about you.”

“Well? What do you want?”

“I hope you’re not here for my sake.” What on earth is Argent doing here? Are the Rangers involved? They’re hardly at full strength, would they seriously try to bust something this big? It would be a disaster.

“What is this? Fishing for compliments?” She leans in, “You aren’t nearly that important.”

You put a hand to your chest and laugh, “You wound me.”

“Easy to do.”

You elect to ignore that, “You’re hardly the type for fancy parties. Though…” You tap the chin of your helmet, “I suppose you are better d–dressed this time?”

“Excuse me?”

“It suits you.”

Argent’s voice goes low and cold. “What does that mean.”

Shit, what do you mean? You wave a hand, “Never mind, it’s not important.” You can feel her eyes on you under the mask. “W–w–why are you here?”

Argent doesn’t move, unnaturally still. “Personal business.”

“That business is…?”

“Not yours.”

You huff. It’s an active effort to maintain eye contact even shield as you are. But you don’t dare look away. “So, then who else of your little friends are lurking around here? Who can I expect to find Ortega dressing up as?”

“I don’t need them.” Evasive, obviously, but what kind of evasive?

“Or…” You cross your arms, drum your fingers against your arm. “You don’t want them to know…?”

She shrugs, breaks eye contact. Damn, got it in one. “If you say so. What, you think you can blackmail me about it?”

“Oh, please,” You laugh, “They’d never believe me.” Argent’s already a known loose cannon. And there’s too many ‘heroic’ reasons you could trot out to excuse it. It wouldn’t even be hard.

“That’s true,” Argent shifts position, “Ortega has a lot of faith in her friends.”

You find yourself agreeing. “Too much.” Why can’t she see you for what you are? How can she want that? Care about –that–?

“Hrmm…” Argent steps closer, “must be lonely, not having a team.”

You stay put, ready for any sudden movement. “I’m better off alone.”

“Is that so?” She tilts her head down towards you.

“Other people always let you d–down,” you don’t bother trying to filtering the bitterness out of your voice. Let the distortion do that. “Even if they don’t– don’t want to.” The only person you can trust in the end is yourself. If even that.

“I’m not talking about forever,” she snorts, “just tonight. To stay out of each other’s business.”

“A t–truce?” you ask, incredulous. She seriously doesn’t want a fight then. Just what is Lady Argent doing sneaking into a black market auction hosted by the city’s criminal kingpin? What could any Ranger want here?

And how can you use this to your advantage?

“You’re seriously suggesting a truce?” You repeat.

“For now.”

Like hell are you going to let her escape your sight. “Oh r–really now?” You offer her a arm, “then let me be your escort f–for the evening.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“It’s… n–not a joke.” Your let your arm awkwardly drop.

“You’re serious.”

“Easier to–” might as well try honesty, “–to keep an eye on each other that way.”

“…fine.” 

“S–so you accept?” You offer your arm again.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Argent sighs, and takes your arm. “Where are we going?”

You laugh, sharp and nervous. No idea what that sounds like on other end of the distorters. Hopefully something more confident than what you’re feeling right now. “W–w–where else would we go? The auction.”

Will you ever escape the path that was laid out for you? When you were Sidestep you fought against boosts and mods that stepped outside the law. Fought to uphold the very system that had enabled your creation and mistreatment.

Now you’re on the other side of the coin and you’re still pulling on what they taught you. Spying, lying… You let your gaze dance across the room take-in and evaluate. Who might cause trouble? Who can you push? Who to avoid? Thirteen years on and what has really changed for you?

You can never get out. Not really. 

Argent stands at your side, dressed as a two-bit murder. It doesn’t seem right. You were wrong, it doesn’t suit her at all. What does she want here so badly she’d lower herself like this? The worry is wriggling like a leech at the back of your mind. At this point there’s not a lot more you can do. Either it becomes clear and you deal with it, or it doesn’t and it never matters.

What does matter is making sure no other surprises catch you unawares. Surprises like–

“Shit.” You whisper.

Argent jerks her head in your direction, shoulders tense. “What?”

No point playing this close to your chest. You had done some research via Jane and Dr. Mortum after your first encounter. Mortum had promised to look into it further once the auction was over but… This isn’t something Argent deserves to run into un-forewarned. “Over there, against the wall.” You quickly gesture with an arm, trying not to look like you’re pointing. “The woman in white and red?”

Argent shifts around to hide looking. “Yeah?”

“Shroud.”

“Who?”

“Ember’s enforcer from San Francisco.”

“Ember…” She growls. Not the reaction you had expected. You have to grab her arm to keep her still. “Stay clear of her. She touches someone, they die. Apparently.”

“Oh.” She steps back into place, looks back at you. “Thank… you…?”

What does Lord Ember want so bad he’d send risk sending one of his scariest agents away to collect it? You really hope it’s not what you’re thinking. 

Who are you kidding, you’re not that lucky.

“Why warn me?” Argent stands a little too close for comfort.

“Uh…” Why did you? “Just– just because we’re enemies, it d–doesn’t mean I want you dead.”

“Hrm.” You’re not sure what to make of that, and Argent doesn’t elaborate.

“This is… awkward, r–really.” You confess.

“What?”

“Trading quips in a fight w–was easier than this.” You don’t look at her, watch the crowd, the stage. The auction is well under way at this point. Nothing particular amazing just yet. You keep an eye on the countdown timer ticking away at the corner of your Heads-Up Display. Not much longer until showtime.

She keeps shifting her weight back and forth. That’s why you don’t wear high heels to a standing event, honey. You learned that the hard way as Jane. “It’s easier to judge someone in a fight.”

You glance over at her and she freezes up. Huh. That’s a switch. “And so what’s your judgement on me, then?”

“Jury’s out.” She raises a hand as if to fling back her hair and then stops, tries to turn it into a dismissive hand gesture but there’s no saving that one. “But… I haven’t killed you yet.”

“Not for lack of trying.” You’ve had some close calls those last few fights before you buckled down on this project. God knows you’ve done enough to her, if anyone deserves first shot at taking you out, it’s Lady Argent.

“Oh please. I have been playing.”

“Why?”

Argent sighs, turns her head to focus on the stage instead of you. “I have fun, I guess.” She shrugs. “Fighting you, I mean.”

“I… huh.” If things weren’t awkward before, they are now. Hasn’t she figured it out yet? Who really possessed her? Well, you’re not about to come clean now. Not here, not when you’re so close.

Dr. Mortum’s ‘disintegration’ ray comes up on the stage next, packed into a very fancy clear case. Jane had put in some overtime helping Mortum raise money, liquidate assets, finding buyers… but did the doctor have enough? Even if she does… even at the starting bid, that’s going to hurt her.

You could – you could bid against her, drive the price up even higher. You know more or less what her limit is and you’ve got way more than that to play with. You only needed the money to get inside, she needs it to stay in business. And to potentially turn against you.

Or… or you could try to buy it for her, as a gift? The gun clearly has some sentimental value to her beyond the scientific, she’s said as much. Would gifting it help change her mind? Or would she view it as a bribe? See it for what it was: you trying to buy her respect?

The bidding slowly climbs, and Mortum stays in the game as it goes. Maybe… you should stay out of this one. There’s too many variables. Too many risks. 

You’ll only step in if Mortum gets outbid. There. That’s as good a compromise as any.

The bidding ends up in a war between Mortum and woman in a business suite far in the back. You tense up, but no, the woman ultimately folds. Dr. Mortum wins her gun back at a very pretty penny. Good for her. Hopefully this won’t come back to bite you in the ass.

The countdown on your HUD chimes. Getting into the final moments now. You glance to your side to check on Argent and – she’s gone. Fuck! When did that happen? While you were focused on Mortum’s lot? Damn it. There’s no time to track her down now.

As soon as time hits zero, the bomb you rigged on the power substation for the block will go off. Power to the whole block of the city will go down. The casino is bound to have back-up generators but enough to power the whole security system? Dampeners are not energy efficient. 

Looks like they’re putting the Regenerator up on stage next. Well, that’s handy. You won’t have to dig around backstage to find it then.

The Regenerator… One-of-a-kind prototype. The company responsible immediately shut-down and all their equipment confiscated. And what can it do? Perfect regeneration. The only way to remove your tattoos is to cut deep enough into the skin, practically flay yourself alive. Even if you lived, you’d be crippled, horrifically scared at best.

But with the regenerator in your hands and fully functioning…

Well, it’d be a whole lot easier than trying to overturn the United States Government.

Final count down now. Then showtime. Breath in, hold, exhale.

5…

You’re not scared. You’re Adrestia.

4…

It’s like leaning out of a window, watching the street below.

3–

A bright flash and a piercing boom rock the auction hall and the crowd cries out in a panic. Your helmet visor dims but not quick enough and the eyes hurt like hell, after images swimming across your vision. Shit! Fuck! You stumble into someone in front of you and they shove you back.

Someone else is robbing the Auction Hall?

The lights flicker overhead before staying dark, and the weight of the dampeners pressing in on you vanishes. There we go, there’s your cue. You hum a few notes under your breath as let you mind unfold, track every panicked presence huddling together. Too much light, now not enough. People are scared. Hollow Ground’s supposed to ensure a neutral territory, and yet here’s trouble.

With the Rat-King backing you up, you reach out and wrap your song around the crowd. A jangle of discordant thoughts. The Rat-King buffers you from the worst of it as you smooth out the edges, point them towards the exit. You don’t need to nudge everyone. Just the key parts and the rest will follow or be swept along.

Everyone here is a criminal, be they boost, mod, or norm. It won’t be the end of the world if it breaks down into a mass panic. But trying to keep them calm is good practice for the next time you’re faced with civilians. There’s no need to fill up any more hospitals.

Back in the physical world you slowly push your way against the flow of the crowd. Up to the stage. The emergency lighting comes on, casting the room in grim shadows. You brace yourself for any hint of the dampeners but it doesn’t come. Good, you guessed right then. Even with back-up generators, cut off from the main grid the Boulevard Casino doesn’t have enough power to handle everything.

There’s still too many people. Hardened villains thinking about how to turn the chaos to their own advantage. Is it an attack? Earthquake? Is Hollow Ground losing their touch? How can this benefit me?

You can’t risk any interference. Reach out again, second chorus, worst than the first. Reach in deeper, into the darker spaces. It’s an incoherent barrage from a dozen different traumas and the Rat–King has to pull tight around your mind to keep you from collapsing, from reeling back in shock and snapping the connection.

You can do this. Raise the conductor’s baton, pull it all forward.

Pull them out.

Get out.

Go!

Someone screams and the rest of the crowd starts to move. No calm to it now. Well, you tried. Someone shoves you aside, and oh yeah, physical bodies are still a thing. Switch to low-light vision and the visor tints everything green as you make the rest of the way to the stage. Get back in the game Chickadee.

As you’re about to climb onto the stage, the Rat King pings your attention.

“Dr. Mortum?” You move over to her, and she takes a step back, hand falls on something on her hip. Shouldn’t be surprised the doctor would have hi-tech glasses. Try to get a read on her thoughts and it’s like grasping at a nest of eels. Multiple tracks going a mile a minute. Maybe in another setting you could pry them apart, but you can’t spare the focus now.

“Adrestia.” Her voice is cold, but shaky. Putting on a mask. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

“Goodness. Y–you think highly of me, don’t you?” You hold out your arms to the side, no hidden tricks up your sleeves. “What are you still d–doing here?”

She doesn’t relax. “Your little light show went off right when I was collecting my gun. I need to find it.”

“You’re serious.” 

“I’m not leaving without it.” She sounds serious. Must be to have resisted your mental push both times.

You shrug, try to play off your concern. “I’ve got my own business, but if I find it… I’ll keep it safe. But it won’t be any good if its owner gets herself killed tonight.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing.” You turn away from her. “I can’t speak for anyone else though.” You can already sense them, multiple people are on the stage. Prelude to a fight. What are the odds you can grab the regenerator and slip out while they’re busy killing each other?

Ignore the eyes staring daggers into your back as you clamber onto the stage. “Ah, fuck.” There’s a stare-down going alright. Lady Argent, still in Oryx costume is standing between Shroud and… fuck, that’s one of Hollow Ground’s men. Jake Manalo? Jane’s only encountered him briefly. He’s some kind of boost but hell if anyone can give a straight answer as to what. His thoughts are fuzzy, out of focus. Shroud’s are walled, a barrier with the sensation of metal to touch. Only Argent is readable to any extent. Damn.

Try to skirt around the edge, circle back to the regenerator. Wait. Is that Mortum’s gun on the ground? Can you you grab it without being noticed… No luck. Jake spots you, hunches his shoulders. “Adrestia, come join the party. And step away from the merchandise.”

Argent glances back towards you and everything goes to hell.

Shroud makes her move, going after Argent. Argent dodges the outstretched hand, claws slicing through her gloves as she twists to strike back. 

Fuck.

Dash across the stage, to grab Mortum’s gun, tossing the case aside like a candy wrapper. Mortum’s gun doesn’t actually kill people does it? It just… stores them for… later. That’s too handy an ace to ignore right now

Jake has left the two women to duel it out in order to chase after you. But whatever Jake’s got, he doesn’t have a powered suit with booster jets. You dash past him, dropping into a slide under his outstretched arm. You come to a stop by the Regenerator, spin on your heel and drop a knee. If you can take out Jake now, maybe you can abscond with the prize while the other two are duking it out.

How does this damn thing work? Hell, when was the last time you used any gun? There’s a light blinking on the side. Battery? As long as there’s enough charge for one shot. You’ll work out the rest later.

Someone off stage yells as you line up your shot. Hold your breath, sight, finger on the trigger… there’s a loud bang and every nerve in your body lights up in terror.

The gun drops out of your hands, clattering on the stage. How? Why? What is that thing doing here? Taller then any one else here, stretching its multiple arms, both organic and metallic up in the air. In the green haze of your low-light vision it could have stepped directly out of one of your nightmares, but no. Very much real. Very much alive. But… something isn’t right. The Catastrofiend’s movements are sluggish and while her skin was in never in great condition to begin with, it looks… wrong? Melted? Skin or clothing? There’s no seam.

Is… this where the Catastrofiend been all this time? Trapped in Dr. Mortum’s teleportation gun? Did she know that when she asked Jane for help in getting it back?

In the back of your mind the Rat-King screams at you to move.

Dive to the left and a blade stabs the ground where you were kneeling. Mortum’s gun rattles on the floor and you manage the presence of mind to grab hold of it again, clipping it back of your belt. In front of you, the Catastrofiend groans, a sickly bubbling sound as she clutches her vestigal human arms to her chest, her other 4 arms unfold and stretch out. Exposed muscle twining into metal, each limb ending in a long razor sharp blade. Like the rest of her, the blades are warped, discolored, wrong.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

“What the fuck is this!?” Shroud yells. The Catastrofiend gurgles and turns to swipe at her. She leaps backwards, almost toppling over. 

You need to get out of here.

“It’s the goddamn Catastrofiend.” Jake snarls. At the sound of his voice, the monster turns and swipes at him too. Something… happens, Jake goes blurry and the blade passes through him like air. No time to think about what that could mean.

Argent snarls, razor claws at the ready. “How the hell did it get in here?” When the Catastrofiend turns to swipe at her, she’s ready, stepping in under the arm, slashing at the skin. Something oozes out, but it doesn’t look like blood. 

Is it responding to sound? Can she still see? How the hell long was it in there for? Mortum mentioned something about… quantum degradations right…? Your stomach twists. And you were seriously thinking of using it on someone?

With the Catastrofiend taking precedence, a truce seems to settle out. Jake, Argent, and Shroud triangulating. around her. You’ve seen the monster nearly come out on top against the entire Rangers team at their height before. It’s only a matter of time before they break ranks and run. You’ve seen the Catastrofiend survive being shot in the head, even as… wrong as it is, there’s no way the three of them are beating this.

This is your chance.

Two parts to the device, don’t forget. The briefcase gets attached to your suit’s utility belt next to Mortum’s gun. The prototype itself… it’s bulky, you’ll have to carry it with two hands. You wrap your song tight around yourself, willing the chaos to let you pass by unnoticed. In the back of your mind, you can feel the Rat-King echo you back, magnify the sentiment.

You get your hands under the rough metal edges and heave it into the air. Don’t look. Nothing to see here. Don’t look this way. The battle with the Catatstrofiend is way more pressing, isn’t it? Absolutely.

You don’t breath again until you’re well behind stage. A scattering of items that still haven’t been sold off remain, abandoned in the chaos. They’ll notice you’re gone eventually. But will they have the luxury to chase after you? Banking on your luck doesn’t seem like a smart move.

This part of the Casino is well beyond anything you got to scout in-person as Jane. You’ve spent plenty of time studying the schematics however. You can imagine the red line guiding you alone. Into the backstage hallway, hang a right, there’s a room here. Storage closet. Crouch down just outside and put the prototype aside.

Time to put the Nanovores to work, outstretching your hand against the floor, eating through metal supports and vinyl tiles until the indigestible remains of floor begin to fracture and give way. Slap the floor hard with your hand and it drops into something deeper below.

This part of town is shot through with old smuggling tunnels from the Prohibition era. Illegally dug little boltholes, cramped but big enough to fit crates of alcohol. Earthquake country means they’re near suicide to use. Which is why you spent over a week a making sure this tunnel would be usable.

Never let the enemy set the field if you can help it.

At the end of this tunnel is Rosie and the get-away truck. You’re almost there. you can do this.

Once the hole is sufficiently wide, you pick up the prototype. There’s noise coming from down the hallway. Pursuers or just echoing from the fight? You can’t tell. Doesn’t matter, it’s time to jump. A hole this time, not a window, but your heart leaps into your throat all the same.

Your booster jets dampen the fall, but the shock rattles up every joint along your legs regardless. The cart you had prepared ahead of time is right where you left it, save for a scattering of debris. You put the prototype down on the cart and sweep it clean in one motion.

Take a breath. Home stretch. Next step is to get to the first support joist and start the process of collapsing the tunnel behind you.

The tunnel is damp, and crowded, and dark dark dark. You tap on the clip-on flashlight on your utility belt, a tiny narrow cone cutting into the void. It’s not much but it gives your low-light vision something more to work with. 

The floor is lumpy, uneven. It makes pushing the cart painfully slow and uncomfortably noisy. With more time you could have smoothed out the floor, but the time constraint on planning this operation had been absurdly tight as it was. Once your far enough away you can start collapsing the tunnel behind you and it won’t–

Scratches against stone echo behind you and the Rat-king screams for you to move. Only to flinch and clutch your head under the weight of the dampeners pressing back down on you. Something runs across your back and you stagger forwards against the handle of the cart as you cry out. Turn and catch the silhouette of Oryx’s horned mask.

“Are you k–k–kidding me–” You suck in your breath as she swipes at you again, press yourself against the wall as silver claws rend the air where you had just been. Did she cut through your suit? Everything still reads green.

There’s a snarl and you throw your heads up, “Wait, wait, hold on–” If Argent could track you down here, the rest of them can’t be too far behind. “L–let’s talk?”

Argent stares you down, your flashlight bouncing off her silver frame. Shoulders hunched, hands ready to swipe.

“We had a truce.”

She doesn’t relax, but doesn’t attack either. “Only as long as it was convenient.”

“You know w–what’s inconvenient? Getting caught.” The return of the dampeners is a significant problem as well, but Argent doesn’t need to know that one. How did they get them back on so quickly? 

The tension drags out entirely too long before Argent drops her hands to her sides. “Then what are you saying?”

“If we fight here we risk them finding us, or worse, damaging this thing.” You gesture behind you. “Let’s… get out of here, then w–we can decide if we’re going to k–kill each other or whatever.”

Argent narrows her eyes, flexing her fingers. Quickest of glances behind her, an opening you don’t take. “Fine.” She sighs, “No tricks, I’ve got your number.”

Oh thank god she can be reasoned with. “Come on, help me push, it’ll go f–faster with both of us.” You move to one side, making space for Argent. She scrunches her nose up, giving you a once over and then steps up beside you, grabbing the handle. Together you trundle through the dark.

“How far?”

“A distance but–” you watch her from the side, “we’re close to a checkpoint I set up to–to–to collapse the tunnel behind me.”

She snorts. “Dangerous.”

“Y–yeah well…” try to keep the emotion out of your voice, “it’d be a bother if someone chased after.”

“Too bad for you.”

“Too bad for me.”

The two of you continue along in silence. Pushing the cart is much easier now with Argent’s help. Silence is dangerous however. Too many unanswered questions, such as: “What uh– what happened with the Catastrofiend?”

“Ran. Chased it, found you instead.”

“W–well… fuck.”

“How did that thing get in there?”

“N–n–no idea.” You lie, more than a little anxious that you can’t pick up whether she bought it or not. You still have Mortum’s gun. Should you– no, no, who knows what else might come flying out. And suppose it did work, what would you even…? No. It’s not an option.

The dampeners begin to lighten as you continue further down, gone by the time you reach a split in the passage, joists in holding up the ceiling. Small miracles. “Hold on.” You brush your head over the frame, nanovores reducing it to dust under your hand. The ceiling begins to shift and you grab the cart with Argent again. “Come on, let’s move.”

“Cute trick.”

Would it be gauche to thank her for? Does she know? This isn’t the time to risk it. You can’t bring Argent straight to Rosie. Too dangerous. No, instead, take the other path as the ceiling collapses behind you. This path ends in a brick wall, easily kicked down. 

The room on the other side is pitch black as the two of you clamber through. A basement. Old, abandoned. No sense of any other minds nearby. Once you’re above ground you can just radio Rosie. But first you have someone to deal with.

Argent lets go of the cart, turning to face you. “So we both wanted the same thing. Lucky us.” You can feel it now, without the dampeners to mask everything. She’s desperate for this.

“So…” You stall for time as you try to get a read on her thoughts. “You know what this is, w–what it can do.”

Argent hunches her shoulders, reading to move. “So do you.”

“It needs to–to be assembled.” You reach back to pat the briefcase hanging from your belt. “What, are you planning to set it up at the Rangers?”

“Don’t be absurd. This is black tech.” Argent huffs. “Even my leash has limits.”

“Leash?” You shake your head. No time to unpack that one. “W–well, I’ve got a place to assemble it safely.”

“And you know how to do that?”

“Do you?”

“Whatever, that isn’t even the biggest problem here.” Evading the question? Interesting. Argent pulls off her helmet, shaking out her silver hair with a grimace on her face. “This is.”

You take a step back, cross your arms. “W–what is?”

“Us.” Argent gestures between the two of you, “this is going to take time to bring online. Weeks… maybe?” She shakes her head. “I’m not letting it leave my sight.”

“Same.” Too much is riding on this.

Argent barks out a laugh. “Why? You already have secrets you can lord over me… you know what I did: the masquerade, breaking and entering–”

“Oh please, d–d–don’t be stupid.” You wave it away, “I know the Rangers. You could explain it all away in a heartbeat. Infiltrating a villain hangout? Retrieving black tech? They’ll give you a f–fucking medal.” Is she really that scared of being found out? Why?

“And you? What, am I supposed to just trust someone hiding behind a mask?” Her voice is razor sharp, “You’re a telepath.” You wince under your helmet. “you manipulate everyone and everything around and… I don’t even know what you would want it?”

Her thoughts are barbed, hard to read but… she wants to trust you. Doesn’t want to blow this chance. But why would she? Why would anyone trust you? Ever?

You can’t tell her who you are. Not here, not now. If you were lucky she’d just kill you. She’s earned it, certainly. More likely you’ll have to go into hiding, abandon any pretense of the civilian life you’ve slowly been reclaiming. And that’s… Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do? What keeps holding you back?

Argent is getting antsy. You need to say something before she just goes for it and attacks. Maybe you’d win, but damaging the prototype is a risk you’d rather avoid. You can’t exactly come clean about why you need it either. If she treats you with any modicum of respect now, then it’s because she’s operating under the mistaken assumption that you’re human.

The very thought of risking that, of letting it go. Of never seeing Julia again, or worse– You can feel your heartbeat quicken. Fuck. God damnnit. You’re trapped.

No matter what you do, you’re going to have to trust her with something.

Your hands are shaking as you reach up, find the clasps of your helmet. Across from you, Argent tenses up but doesn’t attack. Why the hell are you doing this? Except – she deserves to know. And what do you have left of your civilian life left at this point anyway? You knew this couldn’t last forever.

The display goes dark as you pop the helmet from the seal, disconnected from the rest of the suit. Your gut twists, a sharp pain as you struggle to keep your breathing under control. You feel sick. Unreal, like you’ve stepped outside yourself. This is such a stupid idea.

You can feel the Rat-King curl around you, trying to protect you from the danger. Joke’s on it, the biggest danger to you here is yourself.

Can barely see as you pull the helmet up, over, hold it in your hands in front of you. In this dim gloom you can’t read Argent’s face, only her mind. Quiet, struggling to process what she’s seeing. She steps toward you and you step back.

“Ariadne Becker.” If there was any doubt about her being able to see in the dark, it’s gone now. All that effort into avoiding her, and you’ve blown it in one go.

“G–got it in– in one.”

Can see her cross her arms through the gloom, shift her weight. “It wasn’t Locus, was it Ariadne?” She snarls. You can feel the fury building up in her head, leaking out through her composure. Didn’t she promise to eviscerate the person responsible?

Die now or die later, might as well jump.

“Y–yes.” You can’t look at her as you say it. “I’m sorry–”

She moves on, grabbing you by the front of your armor claws digging. Panic takes over and you drop your helmet trying to get free, only for white to explode across your vision as your head is rocked hard to the left, pain searing across the right side of your face. Her hand is the only thing holding you upright.

“Don’t you dare try apologizing to me.”

“It– it was w–wrong, I–”

The second slap hits you on the left side of your face, there’s a ringing in your ears, and you can taste copper from biting your tongue. To call her ‘mad’ undersells the storm of emotion radiating off her. Is she going to kill you? Maybe. Of all the beatings you’ve taken in your life, there’s no question you deserve this one.

“I–I–I’m sorry.” You swallow hard, fighting back nausea. “I shouldn’t have– I mean I– I know what it’s– what it’s like and I…” You’re babbling now. Too many words desperate to get out at once.

Her hand comes down again, hard. You can really taste the blood now. “Don’t you fucking dare compare yourself to me.” She growls in your face, as she raises her hand, pulling it back into a fist, and you try not to flinch. Brace yourself. When the blow doesn’t come you open your eyes.

Her hand hovers an inch away from your skin. “You used me.”

“I–I–I did.”

From the corner of your eye you can see her uncurl her fist, fingers slowly elongating into claws, piercing through the glove. “I should kill you.”

“It– It would be… pretty easy right now.” Your heart is pounding, mouth tasting copper, and throat feeling sticky. The Rat–King in the back of your head is screaming at you to do something but this… You don’t fight back, don’t struggle. This is too familiar. Memories of other times, other, brighter rooms. For everything you’ve tried to change, you’re still were you started.

If she did you in now, does the thing you can’t bring yourself to go through with… then isn’t that a victory for everyone really?

“I could do it…” Her hand is shaking, doubts unraveling in her mind. “I should…”

“Then do it already!” You cough, as she lets you go and you stagger backwards, hit the brick wall and try to hold yourself up. “I thought you– why hesitate?”

“Shut up!” She hisses through clenched teeth and comes at you again. This time her hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to send alarm bells. “You really want to die that badly, Becker?” You can feel it running through her head, all the little fantasies she had constructed about this moment.

Your vision blurs as you laugh. “Y–yeah, actually.”

Can feel something sharp poke against your neck, and then just as suddenly it’s gone. Argent hisses air through clenched teeth. “Don’t be a coward.” She touches her other hand to your face, one nail scratching just under your eye.

“W–what?”

“You don’t deserve to get off that easy.”

A line of white fire runs down your face, blinding you in your left eye. Blink, and your vision is back but bloody. You can feel the cut run from forehead to check. Hurts like hell, can already feel the blood running down your face. This is going to need stitches.

She lets go of you, pushing you back against the wall as she steps away. Licking the blood off her finger, she glares at you. “That was for using me. Don’t ever go into my head again.”

You slide to the floor. This… this really just happened. “I–I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.” There’s no way you’ll every be able to explain it, is there? But then, it’s not really about you, is it? 

“Shut up.” Argent snaps. “You said you can put it together?”

You nod your head. You hope you aren’t over-estimating your ability.

“Then put it together. Don’t even think about double-crossing me on this.” Her smile in the dim glow of your suit’s flashlight is cold and all teeth. “Don’t worry, Becker.” She puts a finger to her lips. “This’ll be our secret.”

She turns away from you and stalks up the stairs to find her way out of whatever building this is a basement of. As she turns she moves her hand from her mouth out to the side, transitioning into giving you the middle finger as she departs.

You sit there against the wall until her footsteps fade and you lose track of her mind. Gingerly you touch a hand to your face, hiss at the fresh sting of pain. Still bleeding. Will absolutely need stitches. Probably end up a scar.

Well, it’s not like you don’t have plenty of experience covering those up.

Except… maybe you’ll let this one be.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Why? ~ F.W. (part 6)

A/n: LMAO HEY! I'm sort of binge writing this. I'm trying to fit all I want to in this year but so much is happening, that's why it's so long. MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES OOF!

Word Count: 6800+ (it won't ever get this big again I'm seriously SO SORRY)

MASTERLIST

With some serious relief, the first study group of the year took place. I dragged my feet, knowing that Fred would be there and pretty sure Cedric would be too. If Luna didn't show up though it really would break my heart. I liked her, a lot. Fred bumped into me in the entryway into the library. I smiled at him and he returned it, both of us going to the usual table by the window to wait for the others that may or may not show.

"Heard you're the only Slytherin Snape hates," Fred began. Before I could be downtrodden by it, he laughed. "It's amazing! You really have to be sticking it to the slimy git calling myself a teacher." I smiled, laughing myself. "Really, I can't believe you! Are you sure you're not a Hufflepuff? Or a Gryffindor?"

"There ARE good Slytherins."

"Good looking ones maybe."

"Oh and I'm supposed to feel flattered by that?" Despite my instant bite back, I did feel warmth under my skin and I couldn't stop smiling. "You think you're such a hot shot don't you, Weasley?"

"Are you saying I'm hot too?" He wiggled his eyebrows. I only realized how close we were then.

"There's that Gryffindor arrogance I'm always hearing about," I hummed, rolling my eyes. Fred winked.

"Okay, five feet apart you two." We looked over to see Cedric. I light up like a Christmas tree. "I'm late for the first time ever and leave you alone for five minutes and you're already about ready to start snogging." I went to argue but Cedric wasn't done. "I was expecting this from Fred, but you, Liv? Come now!"

I was giggling as he sat down. I looked at the fourth chair, still empty. My smile faltered.

"What have I missed? Why does Cedric look ready to tell Fred off?"

My eyes snapped as Luna glided over, a spacey look on her face. I don't think I've grinned so wide in my life. "Luna!"

She smiled at me. "Why do you seem so surprised to see me?" She sat across from me in the empty chair, Fred to my right and Cedric to my left.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Well..." I looked at her through my lashes.

She gauges my expression for a second, the atmosphere becoming a little more serious. "You know a lot of people spread nasty rumors about me. And my dad. Especially my dad. They don't think I hear, but I always do. About how we're crazy. About how I shouldn't be here." I wondered how many of those people were Slytherin. "Most don't say it out loud, but even the odd glances and the way people tend to avoid me in classes and in the halls doesn't go unnoticed by me." I frowned. She smiled. "I don't care what people say. And I don't care even if what people say is true. I like to judge people on what they do, not who they are. I think people are so focused on what my dad does and how he's raised me to be that they ignore everything else. It's very unfortunate."

My expression became soft. I slowly looked at Cedric and he nodded. I glanced down at my books, trying not to grin. "I have an essay to write by Monday," I announced, my voice a little shaky. "What are you guys going to be doing today?"

And that was the end of it.

The month passed nearly as it had begun. I learned to ignore people who said bad things about me and my friends. Malfoy and other Slytherins and other kids from other houses too, like Ravenclaw and even Hufflepuff's who were suspicious of whether I was a bad person. Most Gryffindors had been in class with me or interacted with those who had been, or were friends with twins. Between my friends and my classmates, the Gryffindor house all approved me, waving and nodding and all around greeting and acknowledging me in a positive way. With Cedric's help, the Hufflepuff's seemed to be easing off on me too. I didn't know what to do about them except let them make up their minds. It seemed they trusted Luna's word as much as they trusted my own.

Defense Against the Dark Arts became the best class- Potions became the worse. I had a month's detention before Hermione taught Neville some breathing techniques to calm him down. I suggested he pretended Snape was a Boggart and that seemed to help the most. Every time he mumbled, "Riddikulus," to himself, I tried not to smile too wide.

Care of Magical Creatures was drop-dead boring and I was left with Beth and Sam to crack jokes and try to keep the mood light. Sam and I made the best jokes, Beth's laughter fueling the good vibes and fun. They made it at least a little bearable. Every weekend as well I had Luna, Cedric, and Fred. Sometimes George would join us, sometimes Sam, sometimes Ginny. Sometimes people would come up to Cedric to ask him for a favor or advice or for help, whether his friends or people from other houses or younger houses looking for guidance. He always promised later though, reserving this time for us alone. Cedric and Fred seemed to be the best as lightening up a mood, bolstering my confidence. Luna and I kept getting into debates that left Fred and Cedric staring at us like we were talking in another language. We forgot homework more often then we should, sometimes to listen to Fred's prank stories or the different creatures Luna had learned about from her dad and the Quibbler. Fred and Cedric didn't seem to totally believe her, but I loved the idea of everything she said and listened and asked questions none stop. Every time I was down Fred was there to cheer me up. Every time I was angry Luna was there to calm me down. Every time I got stressed Cedric was there to remind me to take a break and eat something, drink some water. But I started to notice them form friendships too.

Luna had begun to offer ideas to Fred when he was stuck on details of implementing a prank. Cedric kept lecturing Luna on how it wasn't okay for people to be teasing her and hiding her things the way they did. Every time she got into detail, Cedric bristled, ready to fight. I was the first to speak, offering to clobber some heads. Cedric would then agree to help, Fred jumping in with some vague ideas. Luna would shoot down all of his ideas smoothly, pointing out the flaws in each and reassuring that it was fine and that she was used to it and she didn't mind. It was when they found out that I was getting it bad too that Fred and Luna teamed up with a plan that had me genuinely worried for Pansy Parkinson, who had become the Draco Malfoy equivalent to my Harry Potter. We were at each other's throats as often as the boys, except I was so much more vicious than Harry was, and there wasn't a Gryffindor or Ravenclaw or even a Hufflepuff to calm me down or hold me back- just Sam and Beth, who were nearly as ready to tear into her as I was.

October came as a morale booster. Everyone forgot about Sirius Black and stopped teasing me about him altogether. Quidditch has started. Fred was so excited that he had us all promising to cheer for Gryffindor... as long as they weren't against our own house. Cedric told us about becoming Seeker for Hufflepuff and the two began to joke about beating each other and whose team was better. It was quite amusing to me and Luna, who didn't play the sport.

Harry was stoked about it too. Between him, Cedric, and Fred (even George was up in spirits, and Malfoy seemed to be laying off too, too focused on something constructive to pick too many fights, which got Pansy to calm down as well), I was flying high.

And then came Hogsmead.

I hadn't the heart to tell Fred I couldn't go. He was too excited. Cedric already knew. When I hadn't gone to the orphanage once during the Summer, he'd asked me if I was going to get my Hogsmead form signed. I explained that the Headmistress would never agree to let me do anything that would remotely lead to happiness if she could help it. He suggested maybe Amos could sign it but then agreed that he wasn't a parent or legal guardian so I reserved myself and he let it go for my sake, offering to hang out when everyone else was gone. I demised that too, later on when we actually got to Hogwarts, realizing I'd like to have the time alone.

I'd escorted Sam and Beth out. "You guys have fun enough for me too, yeah? Promise?" They promised and then Beth hugged me before the two left, waving at me sadly. Someone stepped up next to me. I looked over. "Harry?"

He smiled weakly. "Dursley's. Can't go."

I tried not to smile too wide. "Me neither."

He was trying as hard as I was not to grin. "Cool. Wanna hang out then?"

"Yeah, I'd love that."

So we wandered. First, he suggested one of the common rooms but in his, I would be unwelcomed and in mine, he'd be vehemently hated. Even if I was good, there was no way a Slytherin would be allowed to know where the Gryffindor common room was and how to get into it. So, he suggested the owlery instead. "I can introduce you to Hedwig!" I laughed and agreed and we were headed over when a voice intercepted us.

"Harry?" Hardy pulled back to see Lupin. "Oh and Ylva as well!"

"You can call me Liv, Professor."

Lupin nodded. "Where are Ron and Hermione? And Sam and Bertha, of course."

"She goes by Beth actually."

Lupin's smile grew. "I'm flattered to be entrusted with all these nicknames, but I'll accept only her permission to use it." I nodded. He was such high quality of a person, I couldn't understand how the state of his robes could be the focus for people.

"Um, they're at Hogsmead," Harry answered and I realized I'd missed the question by interrupting. I smiled sheepishly but Lupin didn't seem to have noticed.

After thinking for a second, he offered, "You guys can come in. If you want."

I looked to see Harry had an odd expression on his face. I recognized it after a second. He had a question. I decided to give him privacy as he'd given me privacy when I'd last talked to Lupin. "Actually Professor, I have homework. Harry was good enough to offer to spend time with me but it's very important stuff. Keep him busy so I don't feel guilty about ditching him will you?"

"Hey!" Harry called as Lupin laughed, all of us smiling.

"I will try to be as good a companion as you would be. Liv." He used the name in a way that made me buzz with happiness.

"Catch up later yeah?" I offered Harry. He smiled and nodded.

I made my way instead to the library after stopping at my room to grab my school things. I had my work all splayed out, pulling one close to begin working on it. Just then none other than the Weasley twins plopped down to either side of me. "Hello," they greeted at the same time.

A smile already on my lips, I shook my head. "It's rather every when you do that you know."

"That's why we do it," George joked. "Just to bother you."

I laughed. "Look, I love that you're available to hang out with those unfortunate enough to be unable to go to Hogsmead but you guys I really have to do my work.

"We'll help you," Fred offered. I shot him a dubious look. "We will!"

Looking at my papers, I thought for a second. Then I sighed. "Fine. But you HAVE to focus on work, I need to get this done."

"Deal," they agreed, once again simultaneous. I shook my head again but we began. I'd be lying if I was saying that getting help from two people two years older wasn't a significant relief.

-

"It was... cut? Like, the painting?"

Ginny nodded solemnly. "It was dreadful."

"Do they know who did it?"

My question seemed to knock her instantly silent. She looked away, down at her hands on the table. "Oh what you haven't heard?" Cake a high, nasty voice. I set my expression to be dark and hateful as Pansy plopped down next to Ginny who scooted away even when Pansy left significant space between them to begin with.

"What are you on about?" I demanded.

She smirked. "Sirius Black was in the castle. He slashed up the painting with a knife. He was furious when the Fat Lady wouldn't let him in. Probably going to kill that FRIEND of yours." She sneered the word like it tasted bitter in her mouth.

I tried to stay calm. Harry had been updating me on everything to try and prevent this exact moment but I hadn't learned this yet. "That's terrible," I managed. Ginny shot me a wide-eyed look at my nonchalance, surprised I seemed to care so little about it when nearly everyone knew by now that not only was Sirius Black my father but also my boggart. "I'm going to check on that friend of mine right now actually. Ginny, do you want to come?" She nodded. Pansy looked murderous that she didn't get the reaction she was so aiming for. I was getting better at controlling myself and it drove the people poking fun at me crazy. Snape included. That had been a relief.

When I saw Harry I called to him. He turned, relieved to see me. "Liv I have to tell you-"

"I already know," I sighed, shaking my head. He shit me a worried look at my exhausted expression and I explained, "Pansy Parkinson."

He flinched. "Great." I silently agreed, sarcastically.

Ginny looked guilty. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before she did. I... I..."

"I understand," I reassured her, placing my hand on her shoulder and smiling softly. "No worries, Gin." She relaxed. "Don't you have class in a bit? Dear heaven, get going! I keep forgetting your schedule."

She huffed. "You and Harry have class too."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Care of Magical Creatures, which we gave together. So we can stay and talk- you can't." She sighed as I nodded, agreeing with him. She then left, leaving us alone. Harry caught my wrist as I began to head toward Hagrid's hut. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I motioned my head forward and he began to walk by my side. We were quiet until we were nearly all the way there. Thinking of him, here, so close... "Are you?" I asked. "Knowing he was so close? Got passed Dementors and Dumbledore both, undetected?"

Harry frowned. "I heard you have a study group with Cedric Diggory and Fred Weasley."

"And Luna Lovegood," I added. He shot me a look that let me know he hadn't heard the name. "She's delightful."

"I think I'll join it," he concluded. I waited for him to explain why. He finally said, "I think you and I should stay close this year. I need someone who really gets what it's like to... to feel as strongly about him as we do."

"Of course. You're welcome anytime." He smiled at me and that was the end of it. I was glad he'd be around more. He was becoming almost like Cedric to me, but more of a younger brother than an older one. Which was odd, since he was about a month - give or take a week - older than me. Funny how that works out.

-

Nothing was worse than when I came to Defense Against the Dark Arts and Snape of all people was teaching it. I white knuckle clung to my desk the whole time, forcing my eyes to stay on my book as I gave him no reason to interact with me. I was too at ease in this room, my self-control was tainted. When it was over, I wasn't even upset about the extra homework we'd been given, I was just glad I had something to do when I got out so I could keep busy and forget about his snide remarks and biting insults and snapping attacks on Hermione.

I hated him. I really hated him.

-

To everyone's surprise, the first match was Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. I'd been dreading it as I watched Harry, Cedric, and the twins take to the sky at once- four people I all cared about very deeply. If I thought about it, it made sense to cheer for Gryffindor- I had three close friends versus one. But I refused to pick a favorite just because there were more on one team when I knew it would crush Cedric if I cheered for them. So I simply cheered for every goal. Slytherin hadn't shown up today, allowing Gryffindor and Hufflepuff to have the room. Luna, Sam, and I were the odd ones out in the stands with Gryffindor, the three of us cheering for both teams. The Gryffindors didn't seem to mind despite where we sat and let us do our own thing.

I was having a good time before Harry fell from the sky, fallen off his broom. I screamed on the top of my lungs, racing forward so that Dean Thomas and Luna had to catch me so I wouldn't fall over.

I was so worried that everything seemed to be moving quickly, me running to catch up with the Quidditch team as we all raced to the field to see if Harry was okay- Ron and Hermione were right behind me. Soon he was being transported to the Hospital Wing where the team and Ron and Hermione crowded around him and I stood a bit away, pacing anxiously.

"He looks a bit peaky."

"A bit peaky? Well, he did just fall over a hundred feet!"

"Harry!" That was Fred. I spun to face the bed, relief flooding through my body.

"What happened?" His voice was weak, a little groggy- go be expected. But it WAS his voice. He was okay enough to speak. I moved close to the group didn't have to push through as they moved over with ease to let me in. "Liv. Hi." I smiled at him. He seemed relieved I was here. We'd become each other's comfort people it seemed. It was nice that he felt the same relief I did when I saw his face.

"You feel off your broom," Fred said.

"We thought you died," Alicia squeaked. Hermione made a wet sound close to a whimper. She had been crying. I placed my hand on her back. She leaned into my touch a bit, relieved by the show of friendship.

Harry shook his head. "But the match." Absolute silence. We all looked away. "We didn't... lose?" Harry demanded, obviously upset.

Hermione stood. "No one blames you, Harry. The dementors aren't supposed to come inside the grounds. Dumbledore was furious. As soon as he saved you he sent them straight off."

Another pause. "Erm, yeah, Diggory caught the snitch," George added. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square... even Wood agrees."

Harry looked at all the faces around him. "Speaking of, where is Wood?"

"Still in the showers," Fred answered. "I think he's trying t drown himself." I buried my elbow in his side. "Ow!"

Harry ignores her attempt, placing his face in his hands. I sighed, sitting next to him. "Oh Harry, it's not your fault. You can't win every match."

"You've never missed the Snitch before," Katie added.

"There had to be at least once you didn't get it. Otherwise, you'd make the rest of us feel like slackers. Think about all the Seekers in the past and those to come. Poor kids can't live up to someone who NEVER misses."

"Plus it's not over yet," Fred threw in, and I was glad for the addition. He and George began to go back and forth about ways they could still win, but it didn't seem to be helping at all. Madame Pompfrey finally came over to shoo the team away. "We'll come to see you later," Fred told Harry. "Don't beat yourself up, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had." Harry managed a weak smile.

"I have to go too," I sighed. Harry frowned. "I'll be back with the others later as well. I'll bring you chocolate from Lupin- you know that'll cheer you up."

"Okay see you later," he sighed. Ron and Hermione waved to me and I nodded back before jogging to catch up to Fred.

"Hey," he greeted as if surprised to see me.

"Hey," I said back. He looked at me but I didn't say anything more. I just reached down and took his hand. Too much had happened recently. Sirius Black entering the castle. Severus Snape ruining the one class that held my spirits up. Cedric was mad about the match. Harry was upset they'd lost, and he had yet to find out about his broom. The dementors were getting brave, coming into the grounds to chase down Harry personally. Between all of that and Hardy nearly dying, I need comfort that only seemed to come just the way I needed it from Fred Weasley.

He didn't say anything about it, just let go to take off his playing glove before taking my hand again, interlacing our fingers. That felt better. I walked him to the hallway I knew lead to the Gryffindor common room before stopping. "What's wrong?" He asked me.

"I don't want to know where it is. The common room." He went to argue but I held up a hand. "Not just because Gryffindors would be opposed to it, but because I don't want to be blamed for Sirius Black getting in. I've been surviving off the fact alone that I don't know where the common room is or what the passwords are. People have already tried to accuse me."

He looked as if I'd slapped him across the face. He pulled me into a hug. I melted into him instantly. "I'm sorry you're going through all of this. It's absolute rubbish."

I smiled. "I know. Thanks for making it easier to bare."

He chuckled a bit. "Anything for you." He left a kiss on my forehead and then headed to the common room, leaving me to turn around and head back to my own. I didn't go back tot he dungeons though. I wanted to talk to Lupin.

-

"You went to see Lupin?" Harry asked.

I nodded. "He wasn't there though. He might be back now." After a gruesome while, Harry was finally out of the hospital. He got a look on his face. I pulled his shoulder to stop him, gently. He'd asked Ron and Hermione to give us a moment and I was thinking it was more than asking what I'd been up to while he was gone. "What's on your mind?"

He didn't even pause before jumping in to explain his worries about the Grim. Seeing it that night when he ran away from home, before the Night Bus, and again in the clouds before the Dementors got him. He then told me about Divination and how Professor Trelawny had seen it in his cup. "I think it'll freak Ron out and Hermione doesn't believe in it even an inch. I was hoping maybe..."

"I'd think you weren't crazy?" He nodded. "I understand your concern. And I do believe in omens and Divination, surprisingly." I smiled weakly. "I happen to be a lot more open-minded than people would have thought. So, no I don't think you're crazy." He seemed to melt in relief. "Harry." He looked at me. "I want you to stay by my side, okay? I don't mean to bother but I'm really worried about you. You're like my little brother- I don't want you to end up dead."

He glowered at me. "I'm older than you!"

That made me burst out laughing. It eased the tension immediately. Trying to pull myself together I stepped closer. "Seriously though. Stay close, okay? I feel like every moment you're gone I'll just be worried about you."

"Alright mum," he mumbled. But the look on his face reminded me of the one he'd had at the beginning of the year when Mrs. Weasley gave him an extra hug that she didn't know he knew he needed. He liked me playing big sister, even if he'd never admit it. "Sure, sure, I'll stick close."

I grinned. "Good." I reached out and messed his hair and he screamed at me to stop, sending both of us laughing again.

-

When Lupin returned it was a relief. After some rabble from the class, he promised to talk to Snape about the assignment and getting it done.

When Hermione moaned, her sounds were met with my own as well. "Professor, Liv and I worked so hard on our essays. We wrote them together- we finished them!"

That made Lupin smile.

The lesson was refreshing too. Just like Lupin's classes always were. Just like Defense Against the Dark Arts should always be. When it ended, he moved to me and Hermione. "I'll think about giving you two some extra credit." He chuckled. "If that's not allowed then I'll give you points. I'm glad you've decided to do your work and so well, I might add. That should be rewarded. He seemed to be looking into our eyes, searching for something. He found it in Hermione's. Whatever it was though didn't worry him as much as he'd apparently thought it would have been he smiled and excused us, stopping Harry for a private word beforehand.

As I passed him, Harry gave me a look. He'd tell me about what was being said later. We liked nothing more than to confide in each other. Talk and bounce ideas off of each other. It was nice. I didn't even feel like I was bothering or forcing him to do it. I felt the room smiling.

-

He told me about the private lessons learning the spell Lupin and I had used on the train. "He suggested you come along since you're already started. He thinks you and he could team up to teach me. He thinks what you know might help what he doesn't know."

"I don't know, Harry..."

"Just think about it? He won't even be doing it until after the Holidays. People are heading back to Hogsmeade- we might start then, just you and me. It would give us something to do."

I smiled. "I'll think about it."

That pleased him.

-

Comforting Cedric on the terrible loss again Ravenclaw was hard when Harry was so happy about it. It means that Gryffindor wasn't out of the running, but Cedric was still devastated. I tried my best to be both sad and happy about it at the same time.

I was relieved when the Holidays cheer came, talk of the Hogsmead grip before the end of term and Christmas cheering everyone up from everything else going on. With Hermione and Ron staying, I decided to go on Holiday with Cedric, making the small family there a little bigger.

Before Christmas though was Hogsmead, which meant Harry and I were stuck alone again. We didn't mind, though neither of us was in the mood, after all, to be thinking about Dementors and the charms to ward them off. After seeing off our friends, I talked him into making snowmen with me. After we finished, much more cheered up, we began to head back inside to warm up when we were stopped by sharp noises. "Psst! Harry! Liv!" We followed the voice to see none other than Fred and George Weasley, peering at us from behind a statue.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Aren't you going to Hogsmead?" Harry followed up.

"We've come to give you something before we go." They ushered us closer and we followed, all moving into an empty classroom next to the statue. George closed the door softly and then turned, nearly glowing he was smiling so wide. He handed Harry a... piece of paper? Harry and I exchanged confused looks. "What's this rubbish?" Harry asked.

George scoffed. "'What's this rubbish' he says. That is the key to our success! We've memorized it by heart so we don't need it anymore- figured you could use it though."

More confused looks. "What am I going to do with a bit of old parchment?"

Fred looked genuinely offended, looking to me as if I was going to tell Harry off, but (to his furthered offense) I was just as bewildered. He scoffed. "Go ahead, George."

George took out his wand. pressing it to the folds of the paper. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Slowly but surely, I filled the paper, appearing from where George had tapped it and then expanding. My eyes widened and I gasped.

"Mersus Wormtail, Mooney, Padfoot, and Prongs are pleased to present the Marauder's Map?"

"We owe them so much," Fred acknowledged with an almost wistful expression. I guessed the twins wished they knew just who to thank for all the mischief help.

Harry opened the map. "Hang on- this is Hogwarts," he realized. I moved closer, looking down as well. He paused. "And is that... no-"

"Dumbledore," Fred interrupted.

"In his study," George jumped in.

"Pacing," Fred added.

"He does that a lot," George finished.

I was speechless. I gingerly took the map from Harry and he let me as he continued to ask questions. "This map shows-"

But again the twins didn't let him finish. "Everyone." Fred again.

"Everyone?" Harry doubted.

"Everyone," George confirmed.

"So this map shows everyone?" Harry realized.

"Where they are," Fred continued.

"What they're doing."

"Every Minute."

"Of every day."

"Brilliant!" Harry piped in between the twins' back and forth.

"Wicked," I agreed under my breath, still looking at the names as they walked about. I saw our names and grinned.

"Now, there are seven secret passageways," George went right on. They had a purpose to this, after all, passed just giving Harry the map. "We suggest-" Fred began.

"This one." They said at the same time, pointing to the one they meant.

"The one-eyed witch one. It leads right into Hogsmead. You better hurry too, Filtch is in his way over." Free pointed out Filch coming this way as he spoke.

"Oh, and before you go. When you're done with it, just give it a tap and say-"

"Mischief Managed." They spoke this at the same time as well. After they did so, the ink faded until it was gone and the map turned into a blank page again. I whispered words of awe under my breath. This magic was brilliant.

"Otherwise anyone could read it," Fred added after the ink was all gone. We began to head off before Fred called my name. "I was wondering if you wanted to come around with me and George, once you got into Hogsmead."

I shot Harry a look but by the way he was looking at Fred behind me betrayed that there was something I was missing. "I'll be fine. You can let me live ONE day, can't you?"

I smiled. "Sure. But you have to tell me everything that happens. I have a terrible fear of missing out."

He nodded. "Cool. Let's go."

-

After loads of sneaking around and staying deadly quiet (Harry went and got his invisibility cloak, which I was stunned to actually be able to see in person), we were finally inside the one place we'd so desperately wanted to be. He told me to meet him and at what time so we could sneak back without getting caught. I separated from him, seeming out Fred and George. It didn't take long, as I lingered curiously in front of Zonko's joke shop. That's where they found me.

They showed me all the best parts of Hogsmead. The haunted house and the candy and the tricks and the Three Broomsticks. I was swirling with so much enthusiasm and excitement I kept forgetting names, but in the end, I was pleased all the same.

When we got into the Three Broomsticks, George was suddenly antsy. "I actually have, erm, a friend of mine to find. Lee, you remember him? Well, we've got this stop to make to... to stock up on stuff for- for pranks." He was struggling it seemed but he got it out in the end.

"Oh okay," I sighed, a little sad I hadn't gotten to stop in the warmth of the place and drink the Butterbeer I'd heard so much about. "Let's go then."

"No!" Fred intervened, a little too loud. I jumped. He tried to ease up. I wondered what was bothering him. "You haven't tried Butterbeer have you?" I shook my head slowly. "And you didn't prepare properly- you're probably freezing. You and I can stay here and George will go along. They don't need us. You have to have the full Hogsmead experience. So much to do and so little time."

George seemed to be okay with it so I nodded. "Okay."

Now that we were alone, Fred seemed to be very... close. He kept touching me, offering me his jumper when I kept shivering, to put over my thin sweater I'd meant for the castle. It was cozy and warm and a little big on me- I loved it. The Butterbeer helped too, warming up my insides. I noticed Fred put his arm around the back of my chair. A thought occurred to me.

"Fred?" He hummed, looking over. "Is this a date?" We'd ben close and touchy before but this attentiveness and proximity and the way he was acting felt so different.

He looked at me carefully. "Do you want it to be?"

I thought about the little moments between us since we'd met. Especially this year. The flirting and how it was so different than when he talked to other girls. Different from how he even flirted with other girls. It seemed so much more sincere with me. So much more insistent, as if by telling me I was pretty wasn't actually the message he was conveying. I thought of his awareness of me. His concern. The time I'd thought he was about to kiss me while he was trying to comfort me. I thought about how I usually hated to be touched. How with all my other friends it was usually only brief hugs or taps to get my attention or reassuring hands on my shoulder or someone messing up my hair. Never long lasting. Never anything that lingered or brought us too close together. Except for Fred. Fred could touch me as much as he wanted. He could be close to me, despite my preference for having my own bubble go space with any other person. Even Cedric. Even Luna and Harry. Even Sam and Ginny and Neville and Beth. Even George.

Did I have feelings for Fred past friendship?

I frowned, looking up at him. He was waiting for me patiently, giving me time to think. "You know I've never... fancied someone before," I said slowly. "It would be hard to be with me, like that. In any way similar to THAT. I'm not good at emotions and a lot is going on." Fred's arm began to drop off my chair. I caught his hand. His eyes met mine again. "I'm not saying I don't- that I don't feel- I mean, you are different. For me. From everyone else. I'm just saying, you could probably find someone who would be a lot easier to be with."

He leaned close. "I don't want someone easier. It was you I helped sneak into Hogsmead because I wanted to bring you here and get you alone." A smile pulled at my lips as I saw the second plan behind what Fred had done. I wonder if maybe that's what the exchanges between him and George and the expression I hadn't quite grasped on Harry's face. Was I really so oblivious that everyone else knew? That it was so apparent to everyone but me.

I looked at the table. "I don't know how I feel about any of this. There's already so much going on. I couldn't handle figuring out feeling and everything on top of it.

Fred paused before nodding. "I can take things slow."

He was playing with my fingers. I chuckled a bit. I looked at our hands and so did he. "How did you know?"

He thought for a second. "I think it was right before I met you actually. I mean, that's when it started, and I thought it was nothing. It was weird and startling. You had just been Sorted and we were being... rude." He flinched. "I saw you freeze. The hurt on your face. It was weird, to think I cared about what a Slytherin felt. And then I met you and we got along so well and you were so strong-willed and outspoken and confident. I realized that the feeling - the different thing that I felt for you - was... well at the beginning of this year when you came out of Harry's room I felt... jealous." I frowned. "Do you have feelings for him? I mean... If that's one of the things that make this complicated."

I ducked my head to catch his eyes. My smile was warm. "There's no one else. I just have really good friends. It's hard for me to get attached to people, Fred Weasley. I don't know how you did it." He smiled a little.

After a pause, he asked, "So we're taking this slow." I nodded. "How slow?" He seemed to be struggling and I realized that we were close again. The butterbeer and the warm atmosphere and us talking about this, in the position we were in... I wasn't THAT daft.

"No kissing," I whispered, my heart ramming painfully against my chest at the thought. He nodded, patient and understanding. I was surprised by the reaction until I noticed him swallow hard and realized he was struggling very much. It made it almost even better than he was.

I leaned forward slowly, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek. He looked up at me as I leaned away. "I thought you said no kissing?" He teased, a smirk resting on his lips

"On the lips," I clarified, smiling. "I'm not ready for that yet. But you've kissed me on the head before and I think that's fine." He pulled my hands up, kissing my knuckles. I smiled wider. We finished up as the sun began to fall, signaling that I had to get back to Harry. "Thank you again, for agreeing..." It felt unreal as we walked out of the Three Broomsticks. He kept looking at me and in his jumper, it all felt so different. Our hands were intertwined but this felt different too. It all felt more personal. More... more. Just, more.

I couldn't say I hated it.

"Anything for you, it seems." He tugged me, pulling me closer, and I blushed.

He walked me to where I was to meet Harry, kissing me on my forehead before dropping my hand. "Oh," I realized, going to take off his jumper.

He held out a hand. "Keep it." He had a sort of dreamy smile on his face. "You look good in it." I blushed even more and he chuckled. "Maybe I like seeing you in my jumper." He moved closer, his finger slipping along my forehead to push a strand of hair into place. "Is that okay?"

I nodded. "That's okay."

We parted ways then, though I could tell he very much wanted to kiss me. It already felt like so much was happening, I couldn't breathe. I was glad he didn't press it. In fact, the more he gave me space the more I found myself adoring him. There was so much more for him than anyone else and I came to Harry with rosy cheeks and a warm and smile and a sort of out of focus gaze.

When I saw his expression, my happiness drained from me. "Harry? What happened?" He looked at me like he was halfway between punching something and crying. A sense of dread filled me. Oh how quickly happiness could be destroyed. Oh, how fleeting good feelings were.

"I'll tell you on the way."

-

Tag List: @reddie-steddie-go

[hellanoragami-blog]

Chapter 78 Thoughts

Holy moly. A short chapter doesn’t necessarily mean that there’s not much to talk about. In fact, there’s a lot to talk about. (Also, I apologize for the delay! I got mega distracted while writing this.)

We start out seeing Yukine helping Daikoku repair the roof from Take’s abrupt visit. Kofuku was nice enough to make them some lunch, which ends up being Russian roulette onigiri. The pair come down to talk, and Yukine admits that he has no idea where Yato is, and begins to admit that he’s feeling a little worried, despite the fact that he probably shouldn’t be.

He takes a handful of the rice balls and says that he has somewhere to be. Daikoku isn’t too far off the mark, saying that he must be going out to feed a stray cat, or something. The way he words it implies that a few days--at the very least--has passed since Yato’s been gone.

It’s revealed that Yukine’s been taking food to Nora. But Nora sees this as pointless, because she’s dead. She doesn’t need to eat. She even goes on to say that it’s silly for the dead to behave like the living. Nora explains that she doesn’t believe that what she had with father and Yato was family. She acknowledges that they were merely acting the part, but they’re not family, in reality. They were simply tools to spread depravity. She mentions how Yato started rebelling, and how she was not to get in the way of it. But secretly, she hated him for it.

Or... did she? Maybe it was possible that she envied him.

Yato was getting freedom, and he was probably the only good thing she had in their family dynamic. She didn’t want to lose that, but she probably felt helpless to stop it because she didn’t know how. So yes, she was probably angry about losing him as a brother, but envious because he was gaining more freedom to do as he pleased and she felt like she was not able to do the same. Instead, she kept vying for Father’s approval because it was what she had left.

Obviously, this is where she feels like she’s saying too much. I think she’s scared of facing her feelings in that moment. But Yukine steers the conversation to the obvious, that she just kept doing what Father told her to. It’s pretty obvious that Nora feels like she doesn’t have the right to think for herself. But she yearns for a ‘family’, hence the feeling that something is missing.

Maybe she was most happiest when they played house. Or when she got to play with Yato. Because she had purpose in that moment, and a feeling of belonging. It’s something that she wasn’t able to get, no matter how many names that she picked up. No one truly wanted her for her, or wanted to love her as their own. Except for Father, but even still, he uses her more than actually treating her like a daughter.

And there’s something interesting about Nora, as well; if you recall her past, she stopped wearing her kimono the way a living person would somewhere between Sakura’s undoing and Yato’s adolescence.

left over right (living)

right over left (dead)

Father said that Nora knew how she died, not that she knew what her real name was. But at the time of Sakura’s death, it looked like Nora knew what a God’s Greatest secret was; or, at least she had an idea. Yet she seemed shocked that telling a shinki their real name was all it took to destroy them. Up until Sakura, Nora just didn’t seem to think about her own mortality. So she had to have learned about it shortly before that.

(Maybe when Father ‘punished’ her? I’ve considered this. Maybe he hammered the fact that she was dead into her, and this was when they stopped playing that little game of house. Maybe it was after that, that she started wearing her kimono as a dead person, because she thought that it would keep Father from being upset with her. That, or something similar.)

Even Yukine realizes that she just wants to have that, though. She wants to have a real family, and to be loved without her usefulness being the first thing people looked at her for. Family doesn’t have to be by blood; so dead or not, Yato and Yukine aren’t just playing house. They are a family. They made it themselves, and are both content with this.

Nora just... wants that. And there’s no shame in it, contrary to what Father has put in her head. Yukine struggles with his feelings and cheers her up via his own embarrassment--even at the expense of biting into a toothpaste-filled onigiri--and even gets a smile from her. I feel like she genuinely enjoys Yukine’s company, in the end.

But this isn’t all good, from Yukine’s end. There’s no way to know if he’s continued looking for Yato or not, but from the sound of it, it seems like he’s been spending time with Nora instead. But he shouldn’t be giving up the search just yet.

Maybe he feels that Yato isn’t in immediate danger, because Nora is no longer being used as a weapon by Father. (In other words, the guy isn’t a threat if he doesn’t have a weapon.) This is kind of a flawed thinking, though.

Sooner or later, Father will show up to get him. And Nora will have the choice to defend him, or let it happen. It’s hard to say what she would do. On one hand, defending him would be the right thing; he doesn’t deserve it. But on the other hand, if Father named Yukine, then that would give her the opportunity to foster a bond with him. Something that she no longer has with Yato.

Still, I hope that when the time comes, Yukine would have shown her enough kindness to sway her decision.

Then the scene shifts to Yato, who is naming a shinki who suspiciously looks like Kazuma, at first glance. (I see what you played, Adachitoka. But also, thank you for not having Yato name him.) The shinki turns into a pair of scissors, which wouldn’t be useful in battle. So Yato turns him away.

This is interesting, to me. Given Yato’s history, it seems like he’s had a pattern of getting weapons as regalia. Even Sakura, who was a kind and gentle spirit, became a short sword. And Yato even says, every shinki he’s named has just been ‘dollar store junk’. This actually gives me the impression that maybe Yato’s spirit is the one that has changed; he’s become a God of fortune and happiness, one whose goal is to help people. Not much need for a weapon, in that case. It’s hard to say whether or not even Kazuma would become a weapon for him.

Speaking of Kazuma, though... oof. He shows up to once again hound Yato into naming him, which Yato refuses because he knows Kazuma. He’s fond of him, and he doesn’t want him to be touched by a God’s Greatest Secret. But come on, Yato, you’re on a mission to name innocent souls just to get them killed. You’re doing the same thing you’re shaming heaven for. I hope he comes to this realization, soon.

After parting, it is next revealed that Kazuma has a ‘premonition’ of sorts. He intercepts Hiyori, who is out searching for Yato and has no idea where Kazuma has been or what he has been doing up to this point. Naturally, she tells him that everyone is waiting for his return, and that Bishamon would want him there with her. But Kazuma is honestly too far gone to listen.

He recognizes Hiyori’s feelings for Yato, and tells her that Gods and Humans can never be together. That being in love with a God is considered a sin. Which, I just really don’t think is the case. Why would it be? Daikoku and Kofuku are very obviously in love, and there has been no sin to come of it.

Plus, Kazuma wasn’t direct about his feelings, at all. Even if he had been, though, I think he knows that Bishamon just doesn’t have those kinds of feelings towards him. She sees Kazuma as one of her children, and nothing more. She loves Kazuma, but she’s not in love with him. There is a big difference.

This isn’t to say that Kazuma isn’t special to her--because clearly, Bishamon holds him higher than the Ha clan. Kazuma is her last surviving child from her previous family, so of course she would hold him in a different light of appreciation than her other shinki. Maybe Kazuma just misinterpreted these affections.

But there is another thing that separates Bishamon from, say, Kofuku or even Yato, here: Bishamon is an Amatsu-kami, and Kofuku and Yato are both (probably) classified as Kunitsu-kami. Amatsu-kami are heaven-dwelling Gods. Kunitsu-kami, however, are earthly Gods. It seems to me that these two different types of Gods follow different principles in life and love. Kunitsu-kami tend to understand human empathy and emotion more, and they don’t lack the ability to connect with their shinki the same as heaven-dwelling Gods seem to.

I think Bishamon sits somewhere between the two, though, and that’s what makes it so difficult for her. She understands human empathy just enough to have different values than the Amatsu-kami.

I also just really think that Yato would get it, if Hiyori were to tell him that she loved him. But whether he would allow himself to return those feelings is another story. (He does love Hiyori, but he knows that she is technically still a child, at this point. He wouldn’t accept her feelings yet, in that case. People tend to equate love with sexual attraction, but the two are also very different.)

I just think that the way Kazuma’s feelings have been perceived is his own fault. Then Kazuma literally throws Hiyori off the roof with a borderline, just so she can’t get too far. He says that he is going to try transferring his feelings to her, and that he is cursing her to never be satisfied with just pretending to be a family with Yato, and telling her to never go near Yato again. (A bit weird wording, since the scenario had always been called ‘playing house’, not ‘pretending to be a family’.)

I first thought that maybe this curse was metaphorical, like a jinx or something. But one speculator has said that the words were pretty straight-forward and that it was probably an actual curse. (I also shot a question to fast-moon to confirm or deny this, but I haven’t gotten a response yet.) If it is in fact a real curse, what exactly will happen to Hiyori?

She finally confronts her feelings, and starts crying. I think this is because she knows that there really is no going back, now. She can’t just pretend that those feelings aren’t there, because--as Kazuma said--they will never be enough. She’ll either have to be rejected or accepted. (And, even after rejection, it takes a long time for those feelings to fade. And even yet, they may never unless she forgets Yato entirely; doomed to always feel like there is something missing.) 

What’s worse is the fact that Kofuku tied their plaques; will they never be at peace with each other? Was Kofuku’s act what lead to this? It’s hard to say.

In the last panel, Hiyori’s tail appears to be missing. I formulated every conceivable way it would be positioned based on her posing, and unless it’s just curled into a spiral under her back or something, it would be shown, I think. 

Obviously I don’t think she is dead, but I do think something happened. I don’t know what to think, at this point. I really hope that Hiyori will be fine. She’ll survive, one way or another. But will she actually be okay?

And as for Kazuma... I’m upset with him, but I want to understand. Maybe he got too close to Tsuguha when he killed her, and he’s being affected by the God’s Greatest Secret? (They did say that it had the capability of spreading.) Or maybe this was just something a long time coming.

Maybe he’s so erratic and desperate to keep Bishamon safe because someone he loved while alive died protecting him. I dunno, but something changed him and he’s been on a downward spiral for a long time with no sign of stopping. 

Anyway, that’s my own take on things! I hope we get some more answers in the next chapter.

[justsomebucky]

Cinderella (Part 2)

Summary: AU. After the tragic passing of reader’s father, reader is left with a cruel stepmother and two miserable step-sisters, who not only don’t care about her, but they use her for their own gain. Will a handsome stranger offer her the freedom she longs for?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,256

Warnings: mentions of death, angst, sadness, mentions of crime, mentions of murder

A/N: This is a RE-POST of my entry for the @stories-from-stark-tower ‘s AU movie challenge. It’s based off of the 2015 Disney adaptation of Cinderella, only with a bit of my own spin on it.

“I wasn’t aware that you were so bad at fighting, Your Highness.”

Bucky smirked at his best friend and Captain of the Royal Guard, Steve Rogers. He rounded on the other man, his arms up in a fighting stance.

The two were sparring in the spare room that was normally used for fencing. Today, the Prince had requested it for his own personal use, so that no one but Steve and a few trusted guards would see that he hated fencing but loved fighting.

“Now Steve, you also weren’t aware that I was going easy on you. I didn’t want to embarrass you in the company of your guardsmen.”

The blond man rolled his eyes. “As if you could, Your Highness.”  Steve crouched low to intercept a kick to the gut. He retaliated by taking a swing at the Prince while he was off-balance.

“I told you, it’s Bucky.” The Prince deftly moved out of the range of Steve’s fists. He circled Steve again, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“And I told you, I’m not permitted to call you that. I can’t even call you James, Your Highness.”

He threw another punch at the Prince, which was skillfully ducked in return. “I’m about to call you a weakling, Steve, as you’ve not managed to land a single punch on- oof!”

Steve grinned as a shot landed on the jaw, and Bucky went stumbling backwards. “You were saying, Your Highness?”

Bucky straightened himself, his blue eyes filled with laughter. “I deserved that one, I know.” He ran a hand over his jawline. “I hope you haven’t bruised my handsome face, Captain. You know I’m being sold to the highest bidder in two weeks time.”

“What a way to speak of your impending marriage.”

“It’s true, though, isn’t it? Father wishes for me to have an advantageous marriage. I really feel as if this is the Grand Duke’s influence over him.” Bucky cleared his throat. “He claims that if I don’t marry well, I’ll let the entire kingdom down.”

“Then we will call it a day. I don’t want to injure you more before your big moment at the ball. Besides, you seem a bit too distracted for fighting.” Steve moved off to the side of the room, and Bucky followed.

“I’m very distracted, my friend.” He grinned at the Captain. “Remember the girl I spoke of earlier? The one that has my father on edge? I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Ah, yes, the one maiden in the kingdom that couldn’t possibly provide you a good match, according to the King,” Steve recalled. “You do know that he and the Grand Duke are plotting to match you with a Princess, don’t you?”

“I’m aware.” Bucky gave a shrug. “They can’t really tell me what to do in the end, though, can they?”

The Captain made a face. “Of course they can. Your father is still the King, don’t forget, regardless of his declining health. And we both know the Grand Duke isn’t short on allies. They could rewrite law in a heartbeat, with just a few short words added to your royal duties if it meant your compliance.”

“Ah, but the Princesses that they want me to woo…these women haven’t got the same kindness, nor the same spirit as my mystery maiden.” Bucky’s eyes sparkled at the memory of that chance meeting.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Steve said, clapping the Prince on the back. He motioned for Bucky to go through the door first, as they exited into the main hallway. “Now tell me, does she have a sister?”

Bucky threw his head back laughing. “That, I definitely do not know.”

“Perhaps your mystery maiden will come to the ball?” Steve gave his best friend a knowing look. “That’s why you opened it to the public, isn’t it?”

“No, the war was difficult for everyone. The ball is a momentary distraction, a little bit of fun for the benefit of the people,” the Prince insisted with a sheepish smile. “And if she just happens to be there…well, then I might finally have the opportunity to prove my point about her.”

“If this girl from the woods is as charming as you say, perhaps she will change their minds on her own.”

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whirled around when you heard someone call your name in the middle of the town’s open market, careful to move out of everyone else’s way. Your eyes searched the crowd until an arm shot up in the air and waved.

Someone you’d not seen in weeks appeared among the throng of people with a bright smile on his handsome face.

“Sam!” You grinned and threw your arms around him when he got close enough. “Where have you been these days? I feel like it’s been ages since we last spoke.”

“Working,” he supplied, pulling back from your embrace. “My boss has me working overtime these days to try to get everything ready for winter.”

Sam worked for a man named Vis, who called himself Vision to try to market his construction company as the latest and greatest there was. Technically, they were the only construction company in the area, so it just confirmed what an eccentric person Vis really was.

Sam and his coworker Clint were Vis’ top two employees, with Vis’ wife Wanda adding her own personal touch to the interior design side of things.

“Whose home are you working away at now?” you asked.

Some people in this town were more demanding than others, and you really didn’t want your friend to be taken advantage of. You’d heard horror stories about deplorable conditions all over the kingdom, too.

It was normally the Grand Duke’s responsibility to keep up with the needs of the people and report back to the King, but the one in place now only had an eye for the military.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, it’s nothing, nowhere at all really. That is, if you think of the Royal Palace as nowhere at all.”

“What?!” You couldn’t believe it. “It’s such a big deal that Vis picked you, congratulations!”

“Vis just knows I’ll get the work done, that’s all. Besides, he didn’t want to go himself. He said the Grand Duke was a pain in the backside, but he didn’t say backside. Personally, I didn’t find him nearly as annoying as Prince James, though.”

“Oh? Is he unkind?” The mere idea of having a monarchy that was anything less than empathetic really turned your stomach.

“No, not really, but there’s just something obnoxious about him.”

You gave him a small smile. “Even so, you’re bound to get more work after this. It can only be a good thing.”

“You’re right. So what are you up to?”

“I told Stepmother that I was going out for food, but I really came to get away from them. I have this bad feeling that something is going on with them that they aren’t telling me.”

“You’re good at snooping though, can’t you find out?” Sam nudged you with his elbow. “You’re instincts are rarely wrong.”

You chewed on your lower lip thoughtfully. “I need to try. There’s no other way around it. I-”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone hammering loudly.

The two of you looked over to the bulletin board situated in front of the market, where all the royal announcements were posted. The Town Crier cleared his throat before lifting the paper in his hands.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” he shouted. “Know, on this day, two weeks hence, there shall be held at the palace, a royal ball. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the Prince shall choose a bride. Furthermore, at the behest of the Prince, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of our most noble King!”

You turned to Sam with disbelief in your eyes. “Oh my goodness! I can see my handsome guard again!”

He looked at you in question. “See who again?”

“I have to go! Goodbye, Sam! Good luck with the palace!” You ran off as quickly as you could. There was so much to be done, and you hoped upon hope that you would be permitted to attend the ball.

Sam scratched his head in confusion as he watched you disappear around a row of houses.

By the time you reached home again and told your step-family the news, you could hardly contain your excitement. You’d never dreamed of going to the palace, nor to a royal ball, but everything about it gave you a chance to find Bucky, even if you had to hike up your skirt and search the grounds for him.

Maybe, if his superior officer was feeling lenient, he’d even be able to have a dance with you.

Drisella and Anastasia had quite a different reaction.

“This is such an opportunity for us,” Drisella exclaimed.

“Sister, one of us could be a princess,” Anastasia added.

“Girls,” your stepmother chimed in. “Calm yourselves. That is all good and well, but I think you might be missing the bigger picture here.”

“What bigger picture, Mother?” Drisella’s hands went to her hips. “What could be bigger than being a princess?”

“Being a princess, and robbing the royal palace.” Stepmother raised an evil eyebrow at her daughters. “One of you might just catch the eye of the Prince. But what if he’s already betrothed? What if he already has an eye on someone? The only way to ensure that this is a valuable use of our time is to make sure we set them up as our next mark.”

“Will this get us out of debt?” Drisella glanced at her sister.

“We are in dire need of money since this one’s father kicked the bucket,” Anastasia added rather snidely, throwing a thumb in your direction.

“That’s ridiculous!” Your fury boiled over, and you couldn’t keep your mouth quiet any longer. It was one thing to insult you, but this was a whole different subject.

If they were to break into the palace, Bucky could get in trouble, or possibly even get hurt if there was a skirmish. You wouldn’t stand for it. “What makes you think that the hundreds of royal guards that will be at the ball, not to mention those stationed outside, would ever let anyone get away with that while the King and Prince are present? The Grand Duke alone would-“

“You let me worry about the Grand Duke,” your stepmother snapped. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and then smiled. “Cinderella, dear, do remember your place. Don’t forget all we’ve discussed. You’re too ambitious for your own good.”

Your eyes dropped to the ground, recognizing the thinly veiled threat. “Yes, Stepmother.”

“Now, I need you do make sure you get three fine ball gowns for the three of us. Drisella and Anastasia will be entertaining the Prince whilst I slip away and search out the valuables. We’ll need you there in your gear, of course, waiting for the signal.”

Oh, no. No no no! “But Stepmother, won’t that be suspicious? How will I even get in?”

She smirked at you. “Well, since you’re so familiar with the palace guards, why don’t you put those skills to use and figure it out? You are not to be seen in the main ballroom, do you understand?”

“Yes, Stepmother.” Thoughts of dancing with Bucky, so handsome in his guard uniform, crumbled away.

“Now go! Every girl in the kingdom will be chasing the Prince, we must get there before the seamstress is drowning in work!”

You turned from your step-family, chewing your lip nervously as you walked away. Now that the palace (and more specifically the Prince) were marks, what could you possibly do to prevent it?

You had to sabotage this plan.

That was the only way to prevent your stepmother from ruining yet another person’s life. It was a chance to atone for all the things you’d done to help them, for your complacency and cowardice over the years. Even if you could never return once your mission was done, at least you would rest well knowing you did all you could for Bucky and the kingdom.

Besides, this would give you an awfully good reason to see Bucky again, even if it wasn’t for a dance.

Sam might have an idea. If he was building and repairing structures for the King, he would have a blueprint to the palace. That might give you an idea as to the route your stepmother was planning on taking. If they really expected you to clean up after them, they’d have to let you know the plan eventually anyway.

Preparation was going to be important here, as you had no room for mistakes. There was no way on this good earth that you were going to let them hurt the employment chances of your friend Bucky and his father. You weren’t sure about the punishment for royal guards who failed to protect the King and Prince, but you hoped to never find out.

You had to find a gown quickly, and hide it so that your stepmother didn’t find out. Regardless of what she had told you, it was imperative that you get word to the Prince, even if you had to risk everything and dance with him to get close enough. The rest you’d have to figure out later.

It was time to call in some favors.

Part 1 - 3

no tags because it’s a re-post from December 11th, 2016. I am moving it from another blog. It was probably the second thing I ever wrote for this fandom so please forgive me in advance.

[shirtlesssammy]

10x09: The Things We Left Behind

Then:

Netflix, why won’t you let me watch the Then segment? Here’s our recap for 10x08.

Now:

Welcome to the pain. MOC!Dean had a nightmare about murder.

At a youth transition center in Pontiac, IL, we’re re-introduced to troubled teen, Claire Novak, who has a severe attitude problem. It seems she was caught shoplifting and now she’s heading to solitary for a bit. (No wonder Claire’s a little angry...she’s an orphan in a juvie center that treats the kids less than human. Ugh.) The next morning, the guard announces that she has a visitor: her father. The emotions that flit her face just break me. She remembers the first time she met Castiel (“I am not your father”) and she knows the man in front of her isn’t her father, but her reaction to seeing the man with her father’s face is heartbreaking. She feigns toughness and demands, “You took everything from me. What do you want now?” Castiel responds, “Nothing, I just—I came here to help you.” Cas asks about Amelia, and we learn that a few months after Cas ripped apart their family, she left Claire with her mother and “went to go find herself.” And ever since Claire’s grandmother died, she’s been living the dream.

Cas wants to help, so Claire asks him to get her out of there.

Step One: Put on a tie, Cas.

(This was uncalled for.)

Step Two: Meet with the woman running the joint and convince her to release Claire to her “father”. She sees through their bullshit immediately. (But it sure is cute to watch Cas try.)

At the bunker, Dean’s self-medicating with the Three Stooges, and Sam’s helping by bringing him a grilled cheese sandwich. The Mark of Cain is not far from either of their thoughts.

Back at juvie, Cas enacts Step Three: He busts Claire out in the dead of night.

Rowena!

Crowley’s got her chained up in his dungeon. A demon brings in another demon that is topside illegally. She pleads to see him, but is rebuffed.

Cas takes Claire to a restaurant for some vegetables.

Claire tells Cas that he’s changed. He used to be a dick and now he’s just kind of a doof. Cas bby, bonding with your pseudo-daughter. He has changed. He’s seen the world, and understands humanity a little better.

The check comes and Cas asks Claire where they’re going next. Claire builds her walls again and tells him she doesn’t need babysitting. Just because he’s feeling guilty, doesn’t mean there’s more to their relationship. Cas won’t take no for an answer, so Claire switches gears. While Cas is attempting to pay for the meal, she heads to the ladies room, only to sneak out and hitch a ride (with Cas’s money.)

Cas calls the brothers to help him with locating Claire. Dean’s none too pleased (but let’s be real, he’s pleased.) Sam heads off to the youth center for possible leads, while Dean and Cas stay behind.

!!!BURGER DATE ALERT!!!

I don’t need to be that dramatic, but this is a *moment* with these two. There’s sailing ships and bi!plaid shirts, and most importantly, real honest conversation. There’s support and advice and kindness and confessions and...and...sigh. They’re each other’s biggest champions and neither of them can see it.

Meanwhile, Rowena butters up to the other demon. They swap stories and Rowena admits that she’s locked up because she “was a horrible mother.” Crowley concurs.

At the youth center, Sam learns that Claire had a friendship with a Dustin Tate. Claire also ran away a lot --one time for six months. Sam wonders where she hid out.

We soon find out it’s at a house of a man named Randy. Claire gives him Cas’s wallet (oof, it even had Jimmy’s wallet --and I’m JUST NOW figuring out why Cas’s birthday is always in July in fanfic. I feel like such a fake fan sometimes.) Despite her best efforts, Randy admits they’re “still short.” It seems that whatever Randy’s got himself into, it’s coming due later than night. This whole situation with Randy is beyond creepy. He guilts Claire more, and she implores him that there must be something more they can do. Randy has shifty eyes. He clearly has a plan for Claire.

Cas and the Winchesters ambush Dustin as he heads in to the Wiener Hut for work that night. Cas hoists him up along the wall by his throat so he’s really not holding much back. The Winchesters look on. YAWN another day at the office. Claire is busy robbing a convenience store so she can buy Randy out of his trouble. Cas intercepts her just as she starts to slip the gun out of her pocket and surprise the cashier.

Cas gives her a stern talk in the alley. Robbing people is wrong! Claire tells Cas that he killed her dad so who is he to talk about wrong or right with her? She pulls a gun on Cas and when he tells her, gently, that it won’t hurt him she swings it around to Sam and Dean. “You just stood there while this monster took my dad,” she says. When she turns back to Cas she tells him she used to pray to him every night about her dad.

“I know,” Cas says. Oh, Cas. He’s remorseful but they still try to convince her that she’s better off not going back to Randy. Claire tells him Randy is family - not Cas. Family don’t end in blood, after all.

Back with Rowena, a smirking guard approaches. Crowley is ready to see her! She’s led into the throne room where she addresses him as “Fergus.” Crowley looooves that so they’re off to a running start.

Rowena congratulates him on becoming King of Hell. Crowley scowls at her proud mama routine and asks her why she abandoned him at the age of eight. She lobs excuses at him.

Crowley’s having none of it, though, and he tells her he has a family already. (Ah, the themes are tying together so nicely now.) Rowena mocks him, though. Backstabbing demons make poor family. “I’ll always be your mother. And I’ll always love you.” She kisses him tenderly on his forehead while he looks ahead, his face a grim mask.

Meanwhile Sam, Dean, and Cas hit a bar. Cas asks for a shot of alcohol to burn away his pain. He’s worried about Claire but Dean tells him in his sweetest, most friendly manner (<sarcasm>) that Cas wearing “her old man’s meatsuit” doesn’t exactly help out his cause. The look Sam shoots him:

Sam tells Cas that Claire loved her father so she’s not going to get over her dislike of Cas any time soon. Cas reveals that he never knew his own father so he doesn’t understand the bond. He asks the Winchesters about their dad. “He’s not gonna win any number one dad awards,” Dean says, winning this prize I just created for UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR. Sam prompts him to tell a story of a visit to New York. They were in the area for a hunt and after Sam and John fell asleep Dean snuck off to CBGB. Dean gets roofied and as he slips into a haze John Winchester shows up and scares everyone around Dean. Afterward, John tells Dean he’s not his friend, he’s his father - and his job is to raise Dean right. And he did it! Dean grew up super well adjusted! Dean slams down the rest of his whiskey. Cas worries about Claire. Do they think she’s in trouble? Yes, yes they do.

Back at Randy’s Claire busts in on a little crime boss confrontation. Randy’s cornered while they shake him down for their money. Claire spits in the boss’ face, so they’re all off to a really great start. They haul Claire away and the boss tells Randy that he sees through his “caring father” act as a way to get her to steal for him. Randy tells him that he’s willing to bargain Claire for the rest of his debt if the deal is sweet enough.

At Hell headquarters, Rowena is about to be locked up again when she and the other prisoner accuse Gerald of smuggling people out of Hell. Crowley ends up knifing Gerald and then tells his mother she’s free. The other prisoner hisses at Rowena. “You said if I lied, you’d get me out of here.” Rowena tells her she’ll be back soon (probably with a knife or something) and closes the cell door behind her.

Back with Claire, creepy crime boss walks in on her, then locks the bedroom door. He approaches her insidiously and touches her face. She kicks him in the balls. Downstairs the front door opens. Cas power blasts the guy who answers the door and they hear Claire screaming. Cas breaks the bedroom door down, allowing Claire to get the upper hand. She kicks the ever loving shit out of the crime boss before Cas drags her away.

Cas, Sam, and Claire race out the front door. Dean threatens the rest of the criminals, telling them to keep their distance. He gets surprised by the crime boss smashing a bottle over his head from behind. We flash back to the Mark of Cain and all the darkness it’s brought Dean. “You guys don’t wanna do this,” he warns. The crime boss scoffs and kicks him in the head.

Outside Sam, Cas, and Claire climb into the Impala when they realize Dean isn’t with them. Sam hears the sounds of a fight from inside the house and races to help Dean.

We cut to Dean, whose vision from the episode open is interspersed with reality now. Dead bodies are scattered everywhere and Dean holds a bloody knife. Sam runs up to Dean who’s kneeling shocked on the floor. He begs him to say that he had to kill them all. That it was him or them. “I didn’t mean to,” Dean says - which is NOT ACCEPTABLE. Cas looks in horror at the wreckage. Yeah, Dean’s doing greeaaaat with the Mark of Cain.

You’re Not My Quotes:

I fight certain deadly threats to humanity.

It’s just people trying to do their best in a world where it’s far too easy to do your worst.

How are you, Dean?

“I think I might have bedbugs. Any tips?” “Of course. Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Fergus. Sounds like a venereal disease and not the fun kind.

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[watchingthesuperbowl]

Notes taken during Super Bowl XXXIX

PREGAME

ARGH, JOE BUCK. It's a Fox joint with Buck, Collinsworth, and Aikman in the booth.

Collinsworth: If the Patriots win this, they're a dynasty. (It would be their third in four years.)

Buck: Patriots defensive coordinator Romeo Crennel is likely going to the Browns after this game to be their new head coach.

FIRST QUARTER

Eagles receive the opening kick. Rod Hood with a great return to the Philadelphia 39.

First play is a pass. Patriots blitz, McNabb scrambles and throws it away.

Second play is a completion to Terrell Owens, who's playing with a recently surgically-repaired broken leg. Had missed six weeks.

Third down, Patriots blitz, McNabb somehow avoids being tackled and instead fumbles. Oops. Patriots recover.

D’oh.

Collinsworth: Every time the Eagles run a spread formation, the Patriots blitz.

Eagles challenge the fumble call and it's overturned. McNabb's knee was clearly down before the fumble. Philadelphia to punt after a game-opening three and out.

Patriots' first play, the Eagles blitz, Corey Dillon picks it up, and Brady hits Branch for 15 yards. This stuff seems so easy for New England and so difficult for everyone else.

Patriots go deep downfield on third and 9. Incomplete and Josh Miller will punt it away. Great punt, Eagles take over at their own 7.

Fox runs video of Bill Belichick going to the wrong sideline before the game.

Belichick realizes he’s in the wrong place.

Eagles go three and out again. Two stuffed runs to Westbrook and a completion underneath to Owens. Patriots get it at their own 31.

Brady is 8-0 career in the postseason.

Now the Patriots go three and out. Not much offense in the early going - just that Brady-to-Branch throw in terms of substantial gains.

Eagles: 6 plays, 6 yards.

Screen pass to Westbrook works - they get a first down and 12 yards or so.

Collinsworth: Eagles have one of the best screen pass offenses in the league, Patriots have one of the best screen pass defenses.

Philadelphia converts a third and 9, just barely. It looked like a really generous spot to me, but nobody's asking my opinion.

Buck: Brian Westbrook's athleticism makes him the X factor in this game, not Terrell Owens. Aikman: Yeah, he creates matchup problems - you can line him up at wide receiver or in the backfield.

McNabb finds Owens coming across the middle and there's nobody there to tackle T.O. Owens runs for 30 and there's personal foul on the defense tacked on to the end of the play. First and goal from the Patriots' 8.

Collinsworth: That was a major illegal pick play. Officials completely missed it.

McNabb throws one up for grabs in the end zone and it's picked off by Asante Samuel, who returns it for 35 yards or so. Penalty on the defense, though, so the Eagles get away with one. That was a terrible decision by McNabb.

Welp. McNabb makes a throw that's every bit as bad on the next play. He telegraphed it, then lofted it. Picked off by Rodney Harrison and the Patriots take over at their own 3.

Patriots go three and out. Philadelphia gave away the ball, but they'll get it back in good field position. Westbrook returns it to the New England 45.

Good lord, what's gotten into McNabb? First play is lofted downfield again and maybe should have been picked. Don't do that, Donovan. It's a terrible idea.

Third down, L.J. Smith makes the catch underneath, but he's stripped. Patriots recover. That may have cost them a long field goal attempt.

Quarter ends. No score.

SECOND QUARTER

First play of the second quarter: Brady sacked on third and long. Josh Miller will punt again.

Cutaway: Will Smith cheering.

Chris Myers: Tom Brady has had a tough time with the passing of his grandmother. Felt awful that he couldn't go to the vigil because he was preparing for this game. She was 94.

Third down, play action pass, McNabb downfield to Pinkston on a deep crossing route. Great throw, out to the Philly 38.

Oh, wow. McNabb under all kinds of pressure, steps up, buys time, and gets it deep downfield to Pinkston. Great catch. They're inside the New England 20.

Now Westbrook for 10. It'll be first and goal from the 6.

Plays in opponent's territory: Philadelphia 12, New England 0.

Another fantastic throw from McNabb. Rifles it over the middle to L.J. Smith. Smith fought his way through three defenders to get open. 7-0 Philadelphia.

Patriots offense: 4 possessions, 3 three-and-outs, 4 punts.

New England puts together a couple big screen passes to Corey Dillon. They gained 25 yards or so on those two plays.

Collinsworth: Biggest difference between these two teams as you look at it is that the Patriots can run the ball more effectively than the Eagles.

Complete pass to Givens down the middle. The ball comes out on the tackle, everybody is confused, the Eagles pick it up, stand around, eventually decide to run with it, and gain 20 yards on the return. New England challenges the call. It looks like he was down, but there was a bobble during the tackle.

The knee is down and the ball isn’t out.

Yep, call overturned. New England keeps the ball. That was the right call. Aikman says the officials did the right thing letting the play go and checking later. Only problem is that the Patriots had to burn a challenge.

Wow. Great, powerful 25 yard run from Corey Dillon through an eight-man front. Carries a tackler inside the 10.

Brady fumbles on play action on second and goal. Looked like he fell on it, but Philadelphia came up with the ball. Huge turnover and a very un-Patriots-like un-Brady-like play.

Third and long, McNabb rolls and throws it away. They'll punt. Aikman says they change footballs on every play in the Super Bowl and that's why the quarterbacks are having some trouble with grip. The balls are slick. Settle down, Beavis.

New England converts on third down, for once. Brady to Branch for a short gain, but it's enough.

Aikman: Brady's greatest asset is his demeanor. You never see him flustered, and that confidence rubs off on his teammates.

Brady to Troy Brown inside the 10. First and goal for the Patriots as we reach the two minute warning.

Second down, David Givens is wide open in the end zone and Brady finds him. Touchdown. Tie game, 7-7, with 1:10 left in the first half. Lito Sheppard completely blew that coverage.

Wide open. It’s never a good sign for the defense when a receiver waves.

Good kickoff return out to the 41, but it's coming back. Holding on the Eagles.

Eagles go no-huddle as time begins to tick away. McNabb to Pinkston out to the 40. Timeout called. 0:10 left in the half.

Next play is an incomplete pass. 0:04 left, so you'd assume they'll either down this or chuck it into the end zone.

...or run a draw play. Westbrook gains 20 or so meaningless yards as the half ends. 7-7 at the break.

HALFTIME

This is a recording of the halftime show from the local Boston affiliate. Commercials: NASCAR, local car dealership, MC Hammer for Nationwide - "Life Comes At You Fast", McDonalds breakfast sandwiches, Jeep Grand Cherokee, Michaels diamonds.

First half highlights.

Jimmy Johnson: You're going to have a low-scoring game when you have two good defenses, regardless of the offenses.

Halftime show is Paul McCartney. So that's good.

Promo for The OC, promo for House, promo for the NFL Network.

McCartney. Drive My Car, Get Back, Live and Let Die, Hey Jude

They spelled out “na na na na” in the stadium during Hey Jude. Because of course.

THIRD QUARTER

Patriots receive the kickoff.

Third and 6. Eagles blitz and the Patriots do what they always seem to do. They pick it up and Brady finds Branch coming across the middle for a big gain.

Brady's last 12 passes: 11-12, 114 yards, 1 TD

Third and 10 - stop me if you've heard this before - Brady to Branch. This time for 16. Branch recognized a zone defense and sat in the hole.

Eagles keep blitzing and Brady keeps torching them. Branch again. Out of bounds at the 2.

First and goal. Brady passes to linebacker/occasional tight end Mike Vrabel, who makes a juggling catch in the end zone. Great catch. There are flags on the play, but it's defensive holding. The touchdown stands and Vrabel has his second career Super Bowl touchdown. 14-7 Patriots. This is the first time this postseason the Eagles have trailed.

First play of the Eagles' drive, McNabb to Owens, slant. Nearly to midfield.

Collinsworth: If this game is going to be won by Philadelphia, it's going to be won by McNabb throwing the ball.

Third down, McNabb runs the same deep pass to Pinkston he completed in the first half. It falls incomplete and Dirk Johnson comes on for his fourth punt of the day. A fantastic 45-yard return by Troy Brown, but it's coming back. Instead, the Patriots start at their own 8.

Second play of the drive, Michael Lewis hits Brady as he throws. Ball pops up but falls incomplete. Patriots caught a break. Could easily have been an interception deep in their own territory.

New England goes three and out. Josh Miller will punt from inside his own 5. Westbrook fumbles the punt out of bounds. There's a flag on the play - holding on the receiving team. Oof.

Man, Terrell Owens is all over the place. He's caught a ton of passes. After an Owens catch and a Westbrook run, the Eagles have crossed midfield.

Collinsworth: Westbrook says the Patriots defense is bigger than the Philly offense, but the Eagles are quicker.

McNabb is heating up. Completes a pass to Greg Lewis, then Owens, and they're inside the 30. Lewis again to the 15.

Aikman: Patriots are playing soft and not jamming receivers. Eagles have had trouble when they're jammed.

“Soft coverage” is putting it mildly.

Third and 3, McNabb throws behind Westbrook, but the running back makes a fantastic catch for a first down.

Great catch.

Aikman: Nobody covered Freddie Mitchell on that play. Would have been a touchdown if McNabb had seen him.

Collinsworth: Great play by Westbrook to use the official as a pick to get away from the DB.

Westbrook (#36) uses the official to get some separation from the DB.

DANGEROUS THROW, but it works. McNabb somehow threads the needle through two Patriots and hits Westbrook going into the end zone. We're tied at 14. That could have easily been a pick, but he zipped it through the smallest of openings.

Patriots get a first down on a screen pass. Eagles expected a pass downfield instead of a screen.

Fake reverse to Deion Branch and instead, they throw a swing pass to him . They get 8 or so. Neat play.

Kevin Faulk runs for another 8. Patriots steadily moving downfield. They're inside the 30.

End of the third quarter. 14-14. This is the first Super Bowl ever to be tied after 3.

FOURTH QUARTER

Aikman: Eagles are playing with an 8 man front but the Patriots are still chewing them up with interior runs.

Eagles yelling "watch the screen!" before the snap. It's a screen and it works. Kevin Faulk gets inside the 5. First and goal.

An easy touchdown for Corey Dillon on first down. Patriots on top 21-14.

Third and long, McNabb chucks it deep but it's out of bounds. Receiver never had a chance. Johnson will punt again.

Collinsworth: The story of the game is these young Patriots cornerbacks. They're playing an unbelievable game.

Second and 13 on the Patriots' drive, Deion Branch makes a great catch, taking it away from DB Sheldon Brown. Perfect coverage, but Branch was even better. 19 yard gain.

Aikman: I've always said a great throw beats great coverage, and we just saw that.

That catch was Branch's 11th of the game, tying the all-time Super Bowl record. (Dan Ross in XVI, Jerry Rice in XXIII.)

Roughing the passer is tacked on to the end of the play. Patriots inside the Philadelphia 20.

Patriots stall inside the Eagles 10. Chip shot field goal coming from Adam Vinatieri. Got it. 24-14, 8:40 left on the clock.

Aikman: If the Patriots win this game, it's a more impressive run than when the Cowboys also won three out of four in the 90s.

Fox graphic: No team has ever won the Super Bowl after having trailed by 8+ points in the second half.

A big gain from McNabb to Owens on a slant. It's single coverage and he made the cornerback miss on the tackle.

T.O. leaves a cornerback in the dust after a video game-type move.

Next play, McNabb throws high over Dorsey Levens and it's picked off by linebacker Tedy Bruschi. For a second or two, I think people are booing McNabb, but then I realize they're probably saying Bruuuuuuuuu.

6:00 and counting, third down for the Patriots. Aikman says the game is over if the Eagles don't get a stop. The Eagles get a stop. Miller punts, Eagles get it at their 21.

Cutaway: Owens during the break, on the sideline telling McNabb to relax.

Eagles driving VERY slowly here. 4:30 and counting, they need two possessions and they haven't even crossed their own 35.

They're driving slowly but they are driving. Third and long completion to Terrell Owens and the Eagles are close to midfield with 3:30 left.

Eagles just standing around, blowing all kinds of time, actually having huddles and walking to the line of scrimmage like it's no big deal. 2:30 and counting, still haven't gotten to the New England 40. McNabb is calling the team into a huddle?!? What is he doing?

No, that’s fine, take your time. Perfect situation for a huddle and to snap it with 11 seconds on the play clock.

Short pass complete to Westbrook. Gets to the 30 as we hit the two minute warning. Still down 10 points.

They're not dead yet. McNabb throws into the end zone and Greg Lewis makes the grab. It's 24-21 with 1:48 on the clock.

Collinsworth: Eagles have already used a timeout. Have to onside kick here because they only have two left.

Onside kick bounces right to Patriots TE Christian Fauria.

Patriots run on first and second down, burning both Eagles timeouts. They also run on third down. Stuffed. They'll punt with less than 1:00 left, trying to pin the Eagles deep. They do. It's downed at the Eagles 4.

0:46 left on the clock, Eagles at their 4, no timeouts, needing a field goal.

First play, McNabb tries to throw it away but Westbrook catches it. Burns 15 seconds. Next play is incomplete.

0:17 left, 3rd and 9 from their own 5. We're at the point where a field goal isn't even an option. They need a touchdown.

Rodney Harrison picks off the third down pass. Game over. Well, not technically. 9 seconds left, but all Brady needs to do is take the snap and kneel.

Final score: New England 24, Philadelphia 21

Collinsworth mentions that the Browns fired Belichick. Leave it to a Cincinnati guy to twist the knife on Cleveland.

POSTGAME

James Brown: Boston Tea Party started a revolution. Boston Three Party started a dynasty. He must have been so proud of that line.

They play the Star Wars theme as the trophy ceremony begins, which is weird. Terry Bradshaw congratulates the Patriots and turns it over to Emperor Palpat...I mean Commissioner Paul Tagliabue.

Tagliabue: Patriots join the elite teams in the history of the NFL. Nine consecutive playoff wins, tying the Packers. I'm giving you the Vince Lombardi Trophy and Vince Lombardi himself would be proud of you and your team.

Robert Kraft: New England fans are the best that any team could wish for. I'm proud we were able to win this stressing team and not individual accomplishment.

Bill Belichick won't respond to Terry Bradshaw's question about a dynasty. Artfully deflects and congratulates his players and coaches.

Bradshaw to Brady: You know this isn't this easy, right? Brady: I know that.

Deion Branch thanks God, the coaches, and his teammates. Bradshaw tells Branch he's won the MVP award, which obviously makes Branch a happy guy.

[watchingthesuperbowl]

Notes taken during Super Bowl XLVIII

PREGAME

This is a Fox broadcast. It opens with a crazy classroom-looking thing where the players write on the chalkboard what they'll do. Okay. Sure. I guess.

Peyton Manning says he'll compete his butt off.

Buck and Aikman in the booth. Looks like this recording includes a half-hour of pregame.

Aikman: Peyton Manning knows what to expect. Russell Wilson says it's just like any other game, but it's just not.

Buck: Number one ranked defense of the Seahawks vs. the number one ranked offense of Denver.

Aikman: What will decide the game is what happens when the Seattle offense faces the Denver defense.

Pete Carroll: All the plans in the world may not work for us. Everybody's tried to stop Peyton Manning and nobody's been able to do it. We'll mix it up.

Carroll: Russell Wilson will have a huge part in our success.

Eric Decker: Gotta weather the storm of the emotions early. It's my first Super Bowl, gotta go out there and execute early and get into the game.

Walter Payton Man of the Year Award winner is announced. Charles Tillman of the Bears.

"America the Beautiful" performed by Queen Latifah. Again? She did the same thing before Super Bowl XLIV, the Saints-Colts game.

Buck tosses to a trailer for a Captain America film as they go to break. My recording doesn't have it, which, whatever.

Pre-produced video about the Seahawks. Kurt Russell talking about how tough they are. Russell's from Portland, isn't he? He might be a Seahawks fan. (Looking it up: He's from everywhere. Born in Massachusetts, spent time in Portland when his dad ran the Mavericks baseball team, went to high school in metro LA.)

Russell did a video for the Broncos too. So I guess they didn't just pick a famous fan of each team. 'When The Levee Breaks' in the background. Broncos offense is a fine-tuned machine. Relentless. No mercy. Reference to "Escape from New York". This game is in New York. (Well, New Jersey.)

National anthem. Renee Fleming. She performs it exactly like you'd expect from an accomplished opera singer: Ostentatious, a bit over the top, but brilliantly sung. One wonders what she thought of Queen Latifah's performance. (I, for one, was impressed by Queen Latifah's performance.)

Coin toss. Joe Namath and Phil Simms. Have I mentioned this game is in New York?

Namath toss the coin before anyone calls anything. Ref grabs it out of the air and asks the visiting team (Seattle) to call it. The Seahawks call tails. Now Joe tosses it again. It's tails. Seahawks win the toss and defer. Broncos will receive.

Namath: I’mma just toss th...  Referee: NOT YET, JOE!

Chris Myers: Before the game, people were concerned about the weather, this being the first Super Bowl played outdoors in the north. The only story with the weather today is that it isn't a story. (It's 49 degrees and clear.)

FIRST QUARTER

Nice kick coverage by the Seahawks, stopping Holliday inside the 15.

Goodness. Manning had 5477 yards and 55 yards in the regular season.

First play, snapped over the head of Manning into the end zone. Knowshon Moreno falls on it for a safety. But wait, there's a flag down. Illegal motion, declined. Safety confirmed. It's 2-0 Seahawks, 0:12 into the game.

Fox graphic: Last safety in a Super Bowl was last year. Okay, thanks. Actually, it's weird - there were safeties on two consecutive snaps from center in the Super Bowl. (Sam Koch's intentional safety in XLVII and this debacle in XLVIII.)

That safety was the fastest score ever in a Super Bowl.

First play for the Seahawks is a Marshawn Lynch run for three yards. Doesn't talk much into microphones. Does his talking with his legs.

Next play, Percy Harvin on a jet sweep left. I love that play call. Harvin was/is insanely fast. Runs for 30 yards. Aikman calls it a reverse. Dude. That's a jet sweep 100 times out of 100. Went in motion, took a handoff from a quarterback in a shotgun formation on the dead run laterally. That's pretty much the exact definition of a jet sweep.

Third and 9, Jermaine Kearse runs a quick slant. They get 11-12 yards. First down inside the 20.

2nd and 12, zone read, Wilson keeps it for 6. Gets out of bounds. It's third and manageable.

Third and 6, Wilson scrambles for 5. Dove for the sticks but didn't get there. I assume that means Steven Hauschka will kick. Well, maybe not. Pete Carroll is challenging the spot. Replay shows it's very close. I think he got the first down.

He did not get the first down. Short by inches. Here's Hauschka for a 26 yard attempt. Nope. False start. Here's Hauschka for a 31 yard attempt. Yep, got it. Hauschka is nails. 5-0 Seattle.

Broncos go three and out. Aikman says the Broncos had the second-fewest threes and out in the regular season. Colquitt will punt. Fair caught by Tate.

Bruno Mars and the Red Hot Chili Peppers at halftime. I assume they'll sing about California.

Aikman: Denver is stacking the line of scrimmage to prevent the run and going one-on-one against the receivers.

Third and 8, Wilson scrambles and finds Golden Tate on the sideline. Clutch play for another first down.

Another third down conversion. Third and 4, Wilson to Doug Baldwin for 6.

Seahawks go razzle dazzle on second and 5. Toss to Lynch, a throw back to Russell Wilson, and Wilson is under pressure. Rolls left and flips it forward toward a receiver. Incomplete. The Fox commentators don't think it went past the line of scrimmage, but that doesn't matter when there's a receiver in the neighborhood.

Next play, Wilson lofts a ball down the left sideline and Baldwin runs underneath it. First down inside the 10. Baldwin torched Champ Bailey on a double move and there was no safety help. The corners were on an island. It was a nice catch and an even nicer throw.

Aikman: These Seahawks WRs are a lot better than people realize.

Second down, swing pass incomplete to Harvin. The Broncos challenge, say that it was a lateral and a fumble. They're wrong, it's clearly a forward pass. Review confirms the call on the field.

Total yards: Seattle 128, Denver 8.

Third and goal, Wilson throws it to Kearse in the end zone. Kearse grabs it, but Nate Irving knocks it out of Kearse's hands for an incomplete pass. Hauschka splits the uprights. 8-0 Seattle, 2:16 left in the first quarter. The Seahawks have as many points as the Broncos have yards.

Nice defensive play here by Irving.

Hauschka hits the crossbar with the ensuing kickoff. Nice aim, Steven.

Fox graphic: First two drives for the Broncos were the first time all postseason Denver has gone two drives in a row without scoring.

Third down, Seahawks blitz and hurry Manning's throw. He overshoots Julius Thomas down the middle and throws it right to Kam Chancellor, a Seattle DB. Interception. Seahawks have the ball inside Denver territory again.

Another jet sweep to Harvin starts the next drive. 14 yards this time. Harvin is still lightning-quick.

First quarter ends with the Seahawks inside the 20. Denver has 11 total yards, their lowest first quarter output all season. Broncos had zero first downs in the quarter. 8-0 Seahawks after one.

SECOND QUARTER

Aikman: This drive is important for Seattle. They've had to settle for field goals twice, need to take advantage of these opportunities.

Rushing yards: Seattle 66, Denver 1.

Third and 4, Wilson throws to Tate in the end zone. Tony Carter was face-guarding him and didn't turn for the ball. It'll be first and goal from the 1.

This is a rules violation.

Two Marshawn Lynch runs later, the Seahawks are in the end zone. 15-0 Seattle with 12:00 left in the first half.

Holliday stuffed again on the ensuing kickoff return. Only gets out to the 15.

Kam Chancellor is injured on the tackle. Looks like a serious injury, but he pops up after a minute or two.

Hey, the Broncos have a first down. Third and one, Knowshon Moreno carries it over right guard out to the Denver 30.

Later in the drive on third and 9, Manning gets time to throw for once and throws a strike to Wes Welker coming across the middle. First down into Seattle territory.

Broncos putting together a solid drive here. Clock under 6:00, third and 1, Montee Ball gets a yard and a half. A fresh set of downs for Manning. This drive is nearing the 7:00 mark in terms of time of possession.

Welp, that'll kill the drive in a hurry. Broncos called for tripping on first down. It's first and 20 from the Seattle 42.

Screen pass blown up on first down. Now it's 2nd and 22. Moreno gets nine up the middle on second down, so it'll be 3rd and 13. Clock under 4:00. Fifteenth play of the drive here.

...and the drive is over. Manning hit as he throws, the ball floats through the air and is picked off by linebacker Malcolm Smith. Smith takes it all the way to the house. It's 22-0 Seahawks in the second quarter. 3:21 left in the half.

Oh, it's all falling apart for Denver now. Holliday is stripped on the ensuing kickoff return and kicker Steven Hauschka recovers. It'll be reviewed and possibly overturned. I think he was down.

Overturned. Returner was down at the Denver 33. No fumble.

Wow, nice third down catch from Demariyus Thomas. Back shoulder fade to the Seattle 43. Two plays later, the Broncos are at the Seattle 28 and we reach the two minute warning.

Broncos get hosed on a no-call. DB Earl Thomas ran into Julius Thomas while the ball was in the air to him. Clearly should have been defensive pass interference.

Third and 4 at the 22, false start on the offense. Oof. It's now 3rd and 9 at the 27.

They get seven on a Manning to Moreno pass. Seattle takes timeout. It'll be fourth and 2 from the Seahawks 20. Does Denver dare go for it, or do they take the easy points?

They go for it. Shotgun, three wide. Pass tipped and falls incomplete. Seahawks take over on downs with 1:01 left in the first half.

Seattle isn't going to anything stupid here. Two runs up the middle and the first half is over. 22-0 Seahawks at the break. This is the first time a team has been scoreless at the half of a Super Bowl since the Giants in Super Bowl XXXV against the Ravens.

HALFTIME

Jimmy Johnson: Pete Carroll told me during the week he was going to get the ball in the hands of the fastest guy on the field, Percy Harvin. He didn't waste any time and it's worked well.

Curt Menefee: Manning came back from a 24 point deficit last year against the Chargers.

Johnson: I expected the Seattle defense to be good, but I didn't expect them to be sufficating.

Michael Strahan: Trying to come back is playing right into the strength of the Seahawks defense.

Johnson: We'll fer a big dose of Marshawn Lynch in the second half.

Okay, time for Bruno Mars featuring the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Bruno is playing the drums and killing it. They should just let him do this for 15 minutes. Locked Out of Heaven. I wonder if the guys in The Fixx get any residuals from him completely swiping everything except the vocals from One Thing Leads To Another. Also, I wonder what an acceptable length of time would be for one to be locked out of heaven. Treasure. This isn't exactly my cup of tea musically, but the showmanship is good. Runaway Baby. Now he's completely stolen Shout from the Isley Brothers. Great. Here come the Peppers. It's a duet on Give It Away. You can keep it, my dude. I understand you'd like to give it away now, but I'm not in the market for what you've got and would prefer that it not be put in me. Just The Way You Are, dedicated to the U.S. Armed Forces. Bruno's on a tiny stage in the dark. I assume that's a trick to get the massive stage off the field more quickly.

Menefee shoehorns in a Rio 2 reference when they go back to the studio hosts. Coincidentally, it was produced and distributed by Fox. They talk about how great Bruno Mars was. Jimmy Johnson very noticeably stays quiet.

Jimmy watches people talk about Bruno Mars.

More Led Zeppelin as they bump in from commercial for the second half. Good Times Bad Times.

Aikman: First thing the Broncos need to do in the second half is get a stop. Seattle gets the opening kickoff of the third quarter.

It has begun to rain very lightly. Probably not enough to become a big factor.

Broncos last two possessions: 24 plays, zero points.

Aikman: Not including the kneeldown at the end of the first half, the Seahawks scored on all three first half possessions, and they scored twice when they didn't even have the ball.

THIRD QUARTER

Hey, remember where Aikman said Denver needed a stop? The good news is that the Seahawks offense won't score on this first possession. The bad news is that the Seattle special teams scored when kickoff returner Percy Harvin picked up a bouncing football and housed it. Buck says the kick was bounced to limit the damage Harvin could do. Oops. Now it's 29-0 Seahawks with 14:48 left in the third quarter

Buck: Seattle actually practiced halftime during the week.

Erin Andrews: Broncos coach John Fox says he's happy with the way the offense is moving the ball, they just have to stop turning it over.

Pam Oliver: Seahawks coach Pete Carroll says he talked about finishing. It has nothing to do with disrupting Manning, they just have to go out and finish the job.

Eek. First and ten, Manning lofts a pass into an area with four Seahawks and zero Broncos. It falls incomplete. He looks rattled.

Third and 4, Manning to Decker for six or so. First down near midfield.

Seahawks star cornerback Richard Sherman is down injured. Fox goes to commercial and when they come back, he's up and standing on the sideline.

Seattle jumps on third and 3. That's a first down.

Buck: Broncos punter Britton Colquitt might as well go home. They aren't going to punt, down 29 in the Super Bowl.

3rd and 10, draw play to Montee Ball. Loss of 1. The previously dismissed Colquitt will come in handy as the Broncos punt for the coffin corner. Fair catch at the 8.

Cutaways: Hugh Jackman, Kevin Costner, Paul McCartney, John Travolta, Harry Connick, David Beckham, Michael Douglas.

First play of the drive, Marshawn Lynch for 18 up the middle. Aikman says the Broncos are stacking the line, which is good unless the back gets past those defenders - then there's nobody to tackle him.

Seahawks called for holding, it's first and 20 but they don't seem to worried about it. They still run up the middle to roll that clock. Clock under 8:00 at the next snap. Wide receiver screen for zilch. Yardage no longer matters - they're just killing clock. It'll be near 7:00 before Jon Ryan punts. Broncos take over at their own 45 with 7:05 left in the third.

Cutaway: Sad John Elway

Erin Andrews: Broncos RB Knowshon Moreno has been receiving treatment for a back injury.

Manning goes downfield to Demariyus Thomas, complete but almost immediately fumbled. Maxwell punched it out during the tackle. Seahawks take over with 5:55 left in the third.

Third and 7, Russell Wilson to Luke Wilson for 12 yards and a first down. Barring turnover, that'll eat another 2+ minutes off the clock.

Another first down. A laser from Wilson to Lockette downfield for 19. They're inside the Denver 25. 3:10 and counting.

If the game weren't already over, it is now. Wilson throws a slant to Jermaine Kearse, who spins, makes four defenders miss, and gets to the end zone. It's 36-0 Seattle. 2:58 left in the third quarter.

Fox graphic: Seahawks are the first team in Super Bowl history with a safety, interception TD, and kickoff return touchdown in the same game.

Aikman: I can't think of a single Denver Bronco, on offense or defense, who has won his matchup.

Buck: Seahawks have played almost seven quarters in this stadium this season and allowed zero points. Shut out the Giants in week 15.

This is what it looks like when a billionaire fist-bumps.

None of this really matters anymore, but Manning throws downfield and draws a defensive pass interference penalty.

Manning on a crossing pattern to Welker at the 14. 0:02 left in the quarter.

Well, it won't be a shutout. Last play of the third quarter. Demariyus Thomas makes a nice catch in the end zone. He was being tackled before the ball got there, but still caught the ball.

They go for two and get it. Welker across the middle again. Third quarter is over. It's 36-8 Seahawks.

FOURTH QUARTER

Can I stop watching this now? I don't want to watch this anymore. I'll continue watching though. I'm one stubborn SOB. This game cannot, must not defeat me.

Fourth quarter starts with an onside kick. Seahawks recover without much problem. They get the ball at the Denver 48. 14:59 left in the game.

2nd and 11, Wilson to Tate for 9. Two Denver defenders blast each other in the helmet on the tackle. I'm sure that didn't do any permament damage at all.

3rd and 2, Wilson buys time, looks, scrambles, looks, and finds Doug Baldwin coming across the field. First down. Clock down below 12:45.

Next play, Wilson down the middle to Kearse at the 10. The Broncos just have no answers. Clock below 12:00.

One play later, it's another touchdown. Wilson to Kearse, jukes, dances, and splits the defenders to get into the end zone. 43-8 Seattle.

Aikman: "I don't know what Denver's doing." Notes how soft the coverage is, which makes no sense in a situation where you need to create turnovers.

Looks like a three and out for the Broncos, but they draw a defensive pass interference on this down. Quit stopping the clock, you guys.

Manning to Demariyus Thomas again. His 13th catch of the game, a Super Bowl record.

Seahawks CB Richard Sherman is injured and being carted to the locker room. Again, not that it matters in terms of this game.

Denver dinking and dunking their way downfield. Clock under 10:00, ball at the Seattle 47. Incomplete pass on 3rd and 2. They'll go for it on fourth, of course.

Manning has 33 completions tonight, a new Super Bowl record.

Incomplete pass on fourth down. Manning threw is just short of Montee Ball, who couldn't bring it in.

Buck: Marshawn Lynch has his shoes off on the sideline, so we'll probably see Robert Turbin the rest of the way. Aikman: I thought about kicking mine off. A cutaway shows Lynch has shoes on again.

Pam Oliver: Richard Sherman has a right ankle injury and is doubtful to return.

Seahawks moving the ball slowly but surely. First down for Turbin, clock nearing 7:30.

Fox graphic: Seattle's last championship was the '78-'79 Supersonics. Buffalo and Cleveland are unimpressed.

Turbin gets the ball again, runs to the Denver 30. 6:30 and counting.

Run stuffed on third and 1. Clock below 5:30. What will Seattle do on fourth down? They'll go for it. Play action pass out into the flat, incomplete. Broncos get the ball with 5:19 left, down 35 points.

Denver is running the ball. No mas. Run stuffed, run stuffed, incomplete pass. They'll go for it on fourth down. Okay. Why not? Manning hit in the backfield and fumbles. Seahawks recover. It hardly matters whether it's a fumble or an incomplete pass - Seattle was getting the ball anyway.

Russell Wilson is out of the game. Tarvaris Jackson replaces him at quarterback. Wilson finishes 18-25, 206 yards, 2 TD, 0 INT.

Jackson throws on third and long. Incomplete. 4th and 7 with 2:06 left.

Aikman: Richard Sherman is the closest thing I've seen to a shutdown cornerback since my former teammate Deion Sanders.

Seahawks run on fourth down. Stuffed. Broncos take over with 1:59 left. Guys, can we just agree to take a bunch of knees and end this?

Nope. Swing pass to C.J. Anderson on first down. They get 12 or so, not that it matters.

Run up the middle to Anderson. Clock below 1:00.Run up the middle again to Anderson. Is it over yet? It's over. Pete Carroll gets hit with his second Gatorade bucket of the night. Final score: 43-8 Seattle.

POSTGAME

Wilson: It's a true blessing. God is so good. Believed we'd get here. Said to the guys at the beginning of the season, why not us? Have great teammates.

Wilson: My dad always used to tell me "Russ, why not you?". He meant to believe in myself, to go out and succeed.

Marcus Allen, MVP of Super Bowl XVIII, will present the Lombardi trophy.

Roger Goodell: Big shoutout to New York and New Jersey for hosting. To Pete Carroll and his team, what an amazing performance. Paul [Allen], you've been here once before, now you get to take the trophy back home to the 12th man.

Pete Carroll: This is an amazing team, these guys have worked on this a long time, four years ago, always moving forward. These players didn't expect anything other than a win in this game. They're incredible.

Russell Wilson is the third youngest QB to win a Super Bowl.

Wilson: God is so good. Brought me here a mighty long way. My teammates are just so incredible. Have thought we were going to win the Super Bowl since the playoff loss last year. You want to play your best football at the end of the season and that's what we did tonight.

Linebacker Malcolm Smith is named MVP. Had the interception touchdown and recovered a fumble.

Smith wins a Silverado pickup truck.

Broncos coach John Fox: We just ran into a buzz saw. We didn't play well enough to beat a very, very good Seattle team. My hat's off to Pete Carroll and the Seahawks, they played a great game.

Fox: Proud of my players, proud of what they accomplished this year.

Shoutout to Terry Bradshaw, home in Louisiana.