#screw you targeted ads

[justnerdy15]

some google searches i had to do today

can swans jump up

what noises do swans make

swans whistling

how long do bruises take to heal

difference between fractured and bruised ribs

do they eat swans in game of thrones

swans in medieval europe

swan behaviors

this was supposed to be a cute little swan lake thing and now its gonna be my largest one-shot to date. can you see why its taking me so long?

[prokopetz]

I'm not gonna claim that most Tumblr polls are anything like rigorously structured, but I've seen a lot of folks rather smugly asserting that having a "not applicable" option that ends up dominating all other responses is evidence that the person who created the poll is incompetent, and y'all: under the specific circumstances in which these polls are constructed and distributed, that outcome is evidence of good poll design, not bad poll design. Yes, even when the "not applicable" responses outnumber all other responses ten to one. There are several reasons for that:

At the time of this posting, Tumblr polls have no "see response" button. The only ways to see a poll's distribution of responses are to wait for the poll to conclude, or to respond yourself – and not only are people on social media typically curious and impatient, many of them also know that there's no way they'll remember to check back later once the poll has concluded, so in practice, their opportunity to see the results is now or never. Adding a little note to the poll insisting that people who aren't part of the targeted demographic should refrain from voting isn't necessarily going to restrain that impulse. Indeed, it may end up encouraging folks who otherwise wouldn't have picked a random result-revealing response to do so, because fuck you, don't tell me what to do.

Many respondents genuinely won't realise they're not part of the targeted demographic until after they've voted. It doesn't matter how much text you add to contextualise the poll, because they'll read the poll first, and if they read the accompanying text at all, it's only after they've responded. Heck, a lot of folks don't even bother to read the question before responding to a poll; they just start going down the options and reflexively click the first one that seems like it might apply to them, then go back and read what was actually being asked (and complain in the notes if it turns out that they misunderstood). Even a well-meaning person can only comply with instructions they've actually read; for those folks, clicking the "not applicable" option is what compliance looks like.

Even folks who do fit your poll's targeted demographic can fall prey to the imp of the perverse. Giving the most accurate response rather than the most entertaining one can be a real struggle for a lot of folks; in scientific analysis of polling data, this is known as the "mischievous responder bias". In an informal setting like Tumblr, it's reasonable to suppose that the mischievous responder effect might be exaggerated compared to polls conducted in more formal contexts, and a well-designed poll is going to take that into account. A humorous "not applicable" option provides an escape by affording folks the freedom to screw around with the knowledge that they're not polluting useful data by doing so; in practice, the "I am a toaster" option is a mischievous response filter.

What this adds up to is that a poll where 90% of the responses hit the "not applicable" button is more likely to have yielded useful data than a poll with a narrow target audience where some unknown percentage of the responses represent folks not reading the instructions, clicking random options to see the results, and/or taking the piss.

[hijinxinprogress]

YJ playing never have I ever 

Cissie goes never have I ever been experimented on by the government so Greta, Kon, and Bart put a finger down “Bart?? Hello??” “The futures fucked” “Called it” “Are you good?” “I mean I like pizza and not being stuck in a simulation sooo” “the future doesn’t have pizza??” “I know! Not having pizza is the absolute worst” 

Kon goes never have I ever had a mentor disregard my safety and everyone except Anita, Cassie, and Greta put a finger down “The joys of not having a mentor” “Hal lost it when he found out about last christmas” “Every time Diana realizes we’ve gone off planet she goes nuclear” “middle child, no one’s looking for me in the first place”

Cassie says never have I ever been betrayed by family members (biological or otherwise) so there’s a small argument over whether or not you should have to put a finger down for each betrayal “I’m just saying there’s a lot of speedsters” “I have like nine siblings on a technicality” “Do alternate versions of alleged biological relations count??” “🤓👆🏾AlLeGEd BiOlOgicAl ReLaTIoNs ” “stfu” “Can I add someone else’s alt to my list if they killed me?? Wait, Thad tried to kill me again last week” “Are we counting each person or each betrayal??” “I don’t have enough fingers for that” “fuck, me either” “I don’t have enough fingers for each person much less each time I was betrayed” 

Anita goes never have I ever had a family member attempt or succeed in killing me and everyone puts a finger down “so fuck me ig” “does prime count for us??” “yeah?? we’re family, stupid” “I feel targeted” “me too” “what if it was an accident??” “It still counts”

Tim goes never have I ever had to screw with time to meet family member(s) so Anita and Bart put down a finger “technically I didn’t-“ “you’re a speedster put your mf finger down” “fair” “they were babies, I didn’t meet shit” “they were your parents put your fucking-”

Greta goes never have I ever befriended people that tried to kill me multiple times and Tim and Bart put down a finger “it’s how we bond! This is slander” “Bart we’ve been to like six other timelines and dimensions where Thad kills you” “wait you said friend do I-“ “Pru” “listen that’s different” “Anarky??” “Klarion” “Azrael” “Lynx” “I also tried to kill you” “My fucking finger is down are you happy?” 

Bart goes never have I ever had a family that doesn’t want me around and everyone puts a finger down “look at us! Bonding” “I don’t think I was invited to thanksgiving last year” “ngl they have no idea how old I am” “I was accidentally added to the family group chat” “dude they added you??” 

Tim goes never have I ever had mommy issues resulting in everyone putting a finger down “??” “You do know you’re targeting yourself right??” “Bart put your finger down” “wtf why my mom loves me” “Emotional turmoil bc you can never see her again ergo mommy issues” “eRgO” “stfu” “Kon?? You don’t have a mom??” “My choices are Superman or Lex” “Yikes…” “Put another finger down”

[No one wins especially not the jl that walked in halfway through the game bc yj was having game night in a briefing room and gave absolutely zero notice]

[jiwon1es]

` wedding : jang wonyoung

summary: your girlfriend was never good at keeping secrets, this time not only she catch attention to both of you but she reveals your plans to future.

pairing: jang wonyoung x ive!reader

ive's live was being protagonized by 04 line, already having too much clips since the beginning of it. starship was pretty much careful about them, something about their chemistry and their popular personalities was a thing they needed to take care of, not because the four of you would start some kind of scandal but because you were too much. loud, chaotic, funny, sometimes even forgetting that you were literally idols and you had an image to protect. you were almost fans favorite. on top of that, you were the two popular ships within the group. lizrei and wonyyn quickly became a hot trend the moment you started the live.

wonyoung, who was sitting on your left, was having quite a hard time trying not to look at you with literally her natural heart eyes, whenever you were talking about something you remembered or telling something to dive, even when you just giggle at their comments, wonyoung was mesmerized. her hands found the way to touch you underneath the table, leaving a hand on top of your leg, a habit of hers.

wonyoung gets anxious when she's right next to you and can't touch you. she needs to place her hand on any part of your body to feel safe, whether is your waist, your leg, softly gripping on your clothes, holding hands and stuff like that. some curious dive had notice her hand on your leg and were talking about it but nothing really caught attention. not until miss jang wonyoung screwed it up again.

while talking about christmas and how it was such a holiday filled with love, liz read a comment.

diveinttoive: did you ever plan to get married?

"oh, i think i never really thought about it like that." liz answered.

"yeah me too but yn does for sure. that's even her new year's wish." rei spilled, smiling at you.

"i mean, a ring would look very cute on my finger." you said as you were showing your hand to the camera, having a ring already that wonyoung gave you the day you became girlfriends.

"but you have one." liz pointed out.

"yes, it was a gift from wony. a promise ring." the girl named smiled proudly at the fact. "but i want the engagement ring. that would be so cute." you pouted, caressing the finger where you would place it.

"i think i would look cute as your bridesmaid."

"i think that the five of us would look cute as the bridesmaid." liz added to rei's comment.

"four." wonyoung corrected.

"huh?"

"four of you. i'm not the bridesmaid, i am the bride."

"but i though yn was the one getting married?" liz was confused.

there were almost 5 seconds of pure silence that felt like hell when they both realized what they said.

"so... you're marrying me?" you leaned in the table, head resting in your arm, teasing wonyoung with the most beautiful eyes.

"no—" you raised your eyebrows. "i mean! yes... no!"

rei and liz couldn't hold their laughter at their usually calm friend now getting the blush of her life.

ggaeulsunbbae: wow wonyoung never beating the gay allegations huh

kurakurannie: did this really just happen?

yujinniesbae: they're cute UGH.

"dive are getting wild." liz said while reading the screen.

"wonyoungie are you okay?" rei laughed.

yes, wonyoung couldn't stop the blushing or her heart almost escaping from her chest from beating that fast. you caressed her back, drawing circles trying to calm her down.

"alright, what about you two getting married?" you said, redirecting the target to both liz and rei so that you two could breath.

"wait— what?" liz got nervous.

. . .

"you might got us in trouble, did you know that?" you asked your girlfriend.

now that cameras were off, you were laying down in bed, cuddling wonyoung as she was in top of you like she always do when she needs your kisses and caresses.

"i know!" she sighed. "i just— i just wanted to let them know."

"know what, baby?"

"that we are getting married." she pouts, looking up right in your eyes.

you bite your lip to fight the urge to kiss her, but then you remember. no cameras. so you do, you give her a small kiss and you feel how wonyoung is melting under your hold.

"they're gonna see it someday, i know."

she smiles and it makes your heart feel so warm and safe. you were totally looking forward for the day you could see wonyoung in a long pretty white dress and finally getting to call her your wife.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tiny ideas 2

----

1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

[eddiespornstache]

23 and 36 for bucktommy? ❤️

Anon no idea if you’re even checking my blog anymore but I am so sorry this fill took so long! If you do happen to see this, I appreciate your patience. Hope you enjoy Bucktommy + wearing someone’s clothes + being pushed against a wall

His Evan

“Where’s my—oh, crap.” Evan said.

Tommy poked his head out of the en-suite. Evan was pacing up and down the foot of the bed, in his slacks and a crisp white dress shirt that he’d only buttoned up halfway. The contents of his suitcase were strewn across the hotel bedspread, like a tornado had blown through in the few minutes Tommy had been showering.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked.

Evan looked over at him miserably. “My tie,” he said. “I forgot to pack a tie.”

Tommy choked down a small laugh. Only his Evan. “We flew out for a wedding and you forgot to pack a tie?”

“I had them all out,” Evan groaned. “I was trying to decide which one and I know that I decided on the green one but I must’ve never actually packed it. God, I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Tommy said automatically. He stopped himself just before going in for a hug—he was still a little damp from his shower and Evan’s shirt was pressed so nicely. Instead, he clasped Evan’s hands. Being reminded of their difference in hand size always seemed to pull a string out of Evan and make him a little looser. “It’s a mistake anyone could have made.”

“But we have to leave for the wedding in fifteen minutes!” Evan protested. “There’s not enough time to find a menswear store around here for a replacement, let alone a Target or something.”

“We don’t need a menswear store,” Tommy said. “I always pack a spare.”

“Oh,” Evan said, panic visibly deflating. “That’s handy.”

“I know,” Tommy winked, and turned to dig it out of his suitcase, which had escaped Hurricane Evan and was still entirely packed.

The spare he’d packed for this trip was a nice, simple pale blue dotted with subtle white dots that added just the right amount of texture. Tommy had bought it after an ex told him light blue brought out his eyes, but come to think of it, the same shade would bring out Evan’s eyes as well.

“Here,” he said. “This will look perfect on you. Do you need me to tie it?”

Evan blinked at him but didn’t respond, and didn’t reach out for the tie.

“Evan?” Tommy questioned.

“Um, I mean, I could tie it myself,” Evan stuttered out. “But if you didn’t mind–um, that would be fine.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t be any trouble at all. Give me a second to get myself dressed.”

Once Tommy was suited up, he turned back to Evan, who was holding the tie up in front of himself in the mirror, and blushing a brilliant pink at the apples of his cheeks and tips of his ears.

“It’s going to look so good on you, baby,” Tommy said. “Come here.”

He deftly knotted the tie around Evan’s neck while his boyfriend stood there, barely breathing. It was good to know that this was really doing it for both of them.

Tommy stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Look at you,” he said. “Looking so pretty, wearing my tie. It’s cause you’re mine. And everyone at the wedding is going to know that.”

Evan’s chest rose raggedly. Tommy had been right–the light blue brought out his large, round eyes perfectly.

They still had five minutes before they needed to leave for the venue. Screw it. Tommy grabbed Evan by the tie and manhandled him up against the wall, leaning in to capture his mouth with a bruising kiss. If it rumpled Evan’s shirt a little, that was okay. He’d be wearing a jacket, and he wouldn’t even get the chance to take it off at the reception. As soon as Tommy had the chance to congratulate the groom and say hello to his friends in the wedding party, they’d be coming back here so Tommy could strip his Evan down.

Maybe he’d leave the tie on. Just as a reminder of who Evan belonged to.

[julihlaufey]

Conversations On The Roof

✧⁠*⁠。A hero doesn't always have a good day. And on one of your worst days, there's nothing better than a rooftop conversation with Deadpool to make you sleep better. ✧⁠*⁠。

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Obs: This is my first work in English. You can also find it in Portuguese on the profile if you want. Good reading! ⁠♡

Female Reader/Sfw

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The nights in the city could sometimes be quite cold, especially after a day of work.

If your practices could even be called that, you didn’t receive any rewards for your actions, but to be honest, you were used to it by now. The big thing about being a hero was that you never got paid for your deeds. And if you ever messed up or slipped, all the "thank you" smiles for saving the day would fade, and the judgmental looks would appear. That was just another one of those days. You were sitting on the roof of a house near your favorite restaurant.

A place where only extremely "healthy" foods were sold. Perfect for the end of days like these. Your feet dangled against the wind, brushing the suit that covered you from head to toe.

Your hands were too busy savoring that masterpiece of cheese and grease that was your snack. And your dreams were too lost in watching the people flocking into the small restaurant to notice you were no longer alone.

— And another tough day for our Spidergirl. One more for the list!

Wade.

— How many times do I have to tell you. I don't use that name?!

— Então qual é o nome do seu herói? — Ele perguntou, já sabendo a resposta.

— ... Ainda não sei. Mas eu vou decidir. - Você olha para o lado, vendo-o rir por baixo da máscara e sentar-se ao seu lado de forma preguiçosa.

— This time I remembered to ask for extra mustard. - You said, handing over his still-wrapped sandwich.

— E queijo extra? — perguntou Deadpool, animado por depois de tantas vezes, você finalmente ter se lembrado.

— Wasn't it without? - You replied, watching the smile on his face disappear instantly. — Just kidding, extra cheese.

He gave you a playful punch on the arm, starting his meal. His legs swung carelessly.

— Looks like my day was a piece of crap, but yours was wonderful.

— You say that because I didn't try shoving you of the roof today or because my legs are swinging?

You roll your eyes.

— Because of the legs.

— Nah, it was crap. The idiot of the day found out I was coming and holed up in a panic room. The son of a bitch even mocked me through the security camera, can you believe it? - He said, pulling his mask up above his eyes this time, staring at you.

— And you couldn't get through a little panic room?

— I'm a mercenary, my love, not a magician. Unless you want me to be. - He added in a suggestive tone, leaning closer. You're lost count of how many times you rolled your eyes around Wade.

But surprisingly, those provocations and confident laughs were the best part of your day.

— But no. I didn't get that jerk. It's for next time. And you? Couldn't save the kitty from the tree?

— No. He suffocated on the rope in front of his ten-year-old owner.

He stared at you. For a moment, Wade thought it might be true, but he quickly caught on.

— Got it. My target escaped, but it was very hard. His son had to die, and he watched through the camera, unable to do anything.

— The little girl went into shock until her mom arrived, having to see him bloody and hanging.

— The boy was carrying a little truck. The father must have given it to him before I arrived.

— The little girl ended up hospitalized, and they don't know if she'll ever recover from the trauma.

— ... There was a baby and-

— No.

— Damn. - Deadpool slapped his leg in defeat. — But seriously, did you get the cat?

— Screw you. It was a fire case. The couple arrived, and the house was engulfed in smoke. I only managed to get the kid out.

— Isn't that good? You stopped a brat from dying. That's pretty sexy to me. You chuckled weakly at his infamous attempt to lighten the mood.

— They asked me to try to get to the safe. The couple's savings were there, and he had just lost his job.

— They can get the money back, darling. You weren't that bad.

— She's eight months pregnant, Wade. - You said, with a heavy voice. It wasn't easy to recall that stressful afternoon.

— ... Yeah, you got me there. And unfortunately, not in the way I wanted.

Rolling your eyes with a weak smile, you took a sip of your soda.— But look. You're a hero, you had to save their lives. Isn't that the hero's deal? The bad guy, the fire, was stopped, and the victims, the family, were saved. You did everything you could, cupcake.

— You're not used to failing and then having people look at you and curse like you're the worst person in the world...

— Ah, believe me, sweetie. Whether I kill, don't kill, or don't even show up at all, I get cursed.

You smiled faintly. Wade's jokes could usually cheer you up, and you truly appreciated his attempts to lift your spirits. But that day, things were a bit deeper.

Deadpool noticed, seeing that you didn't react as usual to his jokes. Crumpling the brown sandwich bag, he tossed it aside, giving his drink one last sip and patting his thigh twice.

You turned your head, confused.— Come on. Don't be afraid, I swear I don't bite. Unless you ask.

Laughing a little and rolling your eyes for the twentieth time that night, you accepted, resting your head on his leg.

— It's comfortable. - You commented impulsively.

— Thanks, I work out. I promise it gets even better higher up.

Feeling a slap on his knee, Wade laughed, taking off his mask completely. You felt his hand still warm through the glove, moving your hood aside and stroking your hair.

— Now, do you prefer a bedtime story about unicorns or how I beheaded a guy yesterday?

The soft touch. The calming breath that synchronized with his laugh as Wade tried to recount his work yesterday as if it were a fairy tale. Your eyes began to blur at each streetlight.

Your head relaxed and rested its weight on Wilson's lap. Maybe after a tiring and stressful day, all you needed was a session of Wade talking non-stop until you fell asleep.

[youryurigoddess]

A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues

To start off, you have to be warned that the former set was almost completely destroyed in the S1 bookshop fire and whatever wasn’t important enough to be salvaged before the shooting had to be replaced afterwards. Which means that a few memorable and already identified pieces aren’t there anymore, for better or worse.

This is going to be another long analysis, and certainly not a full one — I’ll describe only the big picture and the most important props. A continuation focusing on the decorations in the less prominent parts of the bookshop will follow here.

Right at the entrance we can see twin tables with the Marly Horses by Guillaume Coustou the Elder. The sculptures showing two rearing horses with their groom were originally commissioned by Louis XV of France for the entrance to château de Marly, a royal residence near Versailles.

In S2 Crowley is shown consistently using one of the horses, partially out of convenience, partially in line with a returning throughout the season dark horse theme. Ironically, the symbolic harnessing of a wild animal mirrors the supposed domestication of the demon by his angel, as seen in the transformation of the statue to the right from the entrance into an altar of his submission.

After all, there’s nothing more vulnerable to Crowley than losing the usual protection of his shades, and using a horse sculpture as a stand for his sunglasses speaks volumes about his natural aptitude towards uncertain and liminal states. He thrives in stress situations, dangles his feet while hopping onto a curb, and assumes the form of a non-Euclidean fluid when asked to sit down in a chair. Stability isn’t exactly what he’s most comfortable with. So what for Aziraphale signifies the power over his (theirs?) own domain and ultimate safe space, for Crowley means a challenge.

It makes sense that this particular spot near the exit is where the demon feels most secure in the bookshop, his favorite place in the world. That’s where he stood after crossing its threshold in 1941 too.

The statue in the middle, right on top of the central bookstand, was replaced after the S1 fire. It’s still clearly a Cupid, but in a different pose and without his weapons — instead of shooting an arrow, now he’s holding his left hand over his head, pointing up towards Heaven or God. Quite a change. This is the most similar copy made after Ernest Rancoulet. The butterfly-like wings (similar to the ones Rancoulet used in his La Nuit Tout Repose, At Night Everything Rests) on the copy in the bookshop have visible screws, so they were probably added either by the previous owner or the Good Omens art department.

What’s especially important from the analytic point of view is that similarly to S1, the Cupid in question still appears in the frame facing Crowley, but not targeting him anymore, like it used to, but rather mirroring. The most memorable example appears during the Final Fifteen™ when the demon points up with left hand to highlight his “No nightingales” line.

This one will be fun! Everyone, meet George Maxim’s bronze allegory of Music in her full glory. Angels like music in general, right? And Aziraphale is a known audiophile, which was asserted in the very first episode of the new season. But there’s another link to music in his angelic roots. A rather apocalyptic one — the Archangel Raphael is believed to blow the trumpet from a holy rock in Jerusalem to announce the Second Coming (the Day of Resurrection), and Israfil, its Islamic counterpart, Qiyamah (the Day of Judgment).

Staying in the very same context, let’s read the ballad Israfel by Edgar Allen Poe, which was obviously inspired by the titular Archangel.

Nothing on Earth lasts forever — but that’s exactly the reason why we should use it for inspiration, savor this momentary bliss, and hold it in our hearts. The ballad shares the same sentiment about all creation being temporary and only the passions of angels (i.e., Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s feelings) staying eternally unchanging as Aziraphale’s “Nothing lasts forever”. His line was intended as an affirmation of his feelings, similar to “You go too fast for me, Crowley”.

And just like the Cupid is mirroring Crowley in the “No nightingales” line, Music is targeting Aziraphale with her harp in the following frame.

On the counter there’s a smaller bronze statue, which original unfortunately remains unidentified, but I was able to track some similar designs. A woman coming back from the harvest with crops — either a representation of Autumn or the Greek goddess Demeter bringing a blessing of a plentiful harvest. In the Bible, the harvest is a metaphor for both spiritual fruitfulness and judgment. Our productivity in God’s kingdom is supposedly tied to our faith and obedience. And the most popular verses repeat an even older saying, how one reaps what they sow:

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. (Galatians 6:7-8)

And another angel came out of the temple, calling with a loud voice to him who sat on the cloud, “Put in your sickle, and reap, for the hour to reap has come, for the harvest of the earth is fully ripe.” (Revelation 14:15)

The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. (Jeremiah 8:20)

If you read The summer that was never supposed to end meta, you’ll interpret the figure itself as a rather ominous sign. Now let’s add to it positioning right next to the gigantic Victorian cash register one cannot possibly overlook and the recurring theme of payment. And the fact that it conveniently disappears at some point in The Ball (S02E05) episode, never to be seen again. Is the payment reminder not needed anymore, because its day just came?

For some reason ever since S1 this one was often interpreted as a bust of Alexander the Great by the fandom. The proper name is the Head of a Victorious Athlete, also known as Benevento Head. As this suggests, the originally bronze sculpture represents a victorious athlete wearing an olive crown and was found near Benevento in Italy, in the remnants of the ancient town Herculaneum, wiped off from the face of the earth together with Pompeii in a tragic volcanic eruption (which was conveniently used later on as a more modern example of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah). It’s an obviously Roman copy of a Greek sculpture and dates back to 50 AD, less than a decade after Aziraphale and Crowley met in Rome in 41 AD— who knows, maybe they were still around at the time? This would make an interesting connection to the statue Crowley brought back to his apartment in 1941.

And no, in the HD quality and especially en face it doesn’t appear similar to Crowley. In fact, there seems to be a very good reason why most photographers choose another, more flattering angle for this particular artwork. But aesthetics aside, the white bust seems more like a mirror for Aziraphale and his self-constructed (and self-imposed) idealized image, based on a specific set of virtues. The presented athlete is victorious because he’s the epitome of the Platonic Triad of higher Forms: Truth, Beauty, and Excellence, understood in the wider context of the Greek Aretē.

To highlight this point, in S1 the head was literally used as a designated display place of the medal Aziraphale got as a commendation for his 6000 years on Earth in the 1800 cut scene. As a free agent not affiliated with Heaven in S2 he doesn’t hang it there anymore, but the medal is still in the bookshop, visible on his desk. You can see it in detail and read the description of its provenance in the last bookshop meta.

Daedalus and Icarus are a very popular motif in the history of art, but certainly not in this overtly masculine, military style. Icarus was too ambitious for his own good and ignored explicit instructions, which constitutes both the sin of pride and that of disobedience to one's parents (or one’s Creator?).

Interestingly, there’s also a version of the myth in which Icarus fashioned himself greater than Helios, the Sun himself, and the god himself punished him for it with the fall — which resonates very strongly with my vision of Crowley both in relation to his Fall and potential S3 development.

But back to Aziraphale. If the medal in question was given to him as a commendation he from the Supreme Archangel himself, it also serves as a warning for him to not get too arrogant or comfortable with his accomplishment (i.e., life on Earth) or it might lead to his fall (or, in this case, Fall).

Foreshadowing much?

[gassyandnasty]

The Jock Formula - 1.2

FLASHBACK

Andrew had complicated days before. Wedgies, wet willies and swirlies were the tip of the iceberg of all the torture he had to endure, he thought after school things would get better, but studying on the same campus with the most gross frat ever was a challenge, and being an easy target was even worse, nor his flail arms or his whimp friends could help him out.

That's why George came up with the 'jock formula', there was no escape. But his research led to peculiar ingredients, some were easy to find, but others…

George had the brilliant idea to sneak in the locker room and collect some of their sweat, but they were having a match, so all of the gear was being used, and the sweat was being produced.

"I have been observing them for a while now, nobody uses this and that locker, let's stay in there and wait for them to come back. They always forget dirty socks and… underwear, but those have enough material to the formula… at least I believe" George planned.

"What if they discover us?" asked Andrew.

"They won't. A football team is loud enough, nobody will hear anything, and… they are so dumb." Underestimated George.

"I know… It's just… if they spot us, we are screwed."

"Everything will come to plan… now shush, because the match is almost finished, soon they will come."

And with a loud bang, all the football team came loud and obnoxious into the locker room. Soon a strong smell invaded their space, too much sweat and testosterone in the air. Andrew observed them through the cracks of the door, all stood proud, bulging muscles everywhere, true alphas... but one contrasted out of the bunch: Josh.

Josh was a true UNIT of a man. Dark hair covered his face and many parts of his body, that looked like it was sculpted by a god: defined biceps, back and abs, his pecs appeared to be made of stone, bulging out of every shirt he put on, while his legs could sustain an empire, huge thighs and two mounds of the plumpest ass Andrew has ever seen. On top of that, he got an intimidating and charming look at the same time, where he passed, you could hear people swoon over him. If the "jock formula" worked, he would be happy to be even a third of all this.

"Alright guys, let's pack it up" Josh's voice boomed through all the room. "Got so much gear that I need another locker."

Andrew spine freezed, what if he picked his? There was no way to run, and being locked with a bunch of stinky jocks was proving to be lethal. While he gazed through the cracks, he spoted George trying to collect some drops of sweat on the floor while they weren't looking. He sneaked a syringe by the cracks of his locker while Josh was looking for a place to put the rest of his gear.

The scene was terrifying. The overpowering lights reflected on the white tiles and camouflaged the transparent syringe, but what George couldn't see is that Josh was approaching, and when he least expected, the syringe was crushed by Josh's heavy feet.

"Yo! what is this?" Josh questioned as he stepped on something. He noticed that the syringe found it's way back to the locker and asked: "Hey! Who's in there?" he complemented with a powerful kick in the door, making everyone pay attention to what was happening.

All of the boys turned their eyes to the locker George was in, and he was in MAD trouble now.

"What is that, dude? Chill" Sal said. Andrew knew this voice too well. Sal was a very famous playboy, he got all the chicks with his 'latin spice', as his tanned skin and eternal smirk were fine additions to his perfect body. One of Andrew's nerdy friends said that his gas was fiery, and burned his eyebrows once.

"Maybe it's just another of the rival team's prank" added Jongho, the new exchange school guy. He came from Korea and quickly got along with them cause he is so good at everything: best grades, top athlete and a very toned body. This time Andrew seen himself, as he tried to share some thoughts on math class, and was greeted with the longest belch he ever heard of.

But his thoughts were interrupted when Josh's threatened the locker again. "Reveal yourself or I'll rip the door out!"

Slowly, George surrended and opened the door. He was even wearing a lab coat, accessorized by his big glasses and slicked back hair. He was truly ridiculous. He was greeted with a choir of laughs by all the sides of the room, George was almost pissing himself.

Andrew thanked God it wasn't him in that place, but George pretty much asked for it. He could have waited till they left the room, and now...

"Oh, look what we have here!" Josh teased, ensuring more laugh by the other boys. "Taking notes, loser?"

"Ugh...I was... hiding from P.E...erm..." George didn't know what to say. He couldn't give away about the formula, but the broken pieces of the syringe on the floor pointed out that he was doing more than hide.

"Huh, I see..." Josh inspects, and spots the puddle of sweat that George was trying to collect from. He connects the dots, syringe, lab coats, samples... He didn't get to any conclusion cause he is too dumb for that, but it was sufficient to pick on the nerd for anything he was doing.

"Were you trying to do experiments with us? Where are those samples going, huh?" Josh intimidates, through the gap of the door, the Andrew could only see his toned legs towering over George.

"No, no, those were my homework... It got nothing to do with-" George was trying to explain himself as he was cut of by the alpha jock:

"Nothing on that bullshit, nerd." Josh said as he turned around. Now he was facing Andrew, the tiny locker that George was hidden was on the bottom line, so Josh started to bend over.

"Why don't you collect this sample?" Josh teased as he put his ass inside the locker George was. Andrew saw him scrunching up his face and clench his fist, with a loud grunt, Josh released hell on George's face.

"HNNGG... PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT"

That has got to be the most powerful fart Andrew ever witnessed. Even if it was inside the locker, was loud and clear, so deep that even vibrated the locker walls. It simply exploded for so long that Josh's veins were bulging out for forcing it, and on a final wet note, his ultimate demonstration of power ended.

"Aaaaaah, god DAMN! That was a monster! Don't you think, nerd-" Josh sighed in relief after almost exploding the room, and is surprised by the sight of George completely passed out.

"Haha, couldn't even that take, loser?" Josh worked up a huge wad of spit and fired on George's uncouscious face, making all of the jocks laugh and high five him.

"King! King! King! King! King" his friends chanted, while they got out of there. One day, Andrew wanted to be 'King' too.

And boy, it STANK. The pungent smell invaded Andrew's nostrils like no other, and he carefully got out of his locker to help his friend. He came next to him and his situation was miserable. But out of all that humiliation, Andrew collected the spit that was covering all of Josh's face so they could proceed with the formula.

When Andrew tried to get his friend out of the locker, he noticed that George indeed pissed himself.

[plantcrazy]

Secrets That Shouldn't Be Found - Hōkū, 1997

Wilford IV, the Toppat Clan leader, took a drag of his cigar, puffing out smoke with a sigh.

Hōkū did his best to not shift his weight, or fidget. As unpleasant as holding his nerves in felt, nothing would compare to the disappointment he'd feel letting his mentor or clan's leader see it.

They'd been stood out here in the freezing November air nearly 5 minutes. They'd been back from their mission and disastrous discovery less than 15 minutes, all the while nether elite had said a word to him beyond;

"Balcony, 10 minutes. And Morrningstar?" Wilford's eyes darkened, "I don't care if you've got some 'rare 1 in a whatever ability' the Clan needs. Breathe a word of the mission to anyone, and it'll be your last breath. Clear?"

Wilford glanced to his Right Hand, Harry Copperbottom.

"In an ideal world, had we known what they were carrying, we wouldn't have brought you along," Wilford explained, "But this isn't an ideal world. You're not an elite, nor do you have the clearance for the shit we just found, so consider this your chance to prove yourself trustworthy."

"We have a rough idea of the cover story we'll be using, so once we have it solidified in the morning, we expect you to stick to it." Harry added, his eyes... distant. He looked past Hōkū to the horizon, where the sun had since just set.

"Questions?"

Hōkū snapped his attention back to his leader.

He had plenty of questions, but right now, only one mattered.

"What are you going to do about their project?" He asked. "Taking their 'weapon' isn't going to stop them. All this will do is delay their progress, that's providing their aren't more of them!"

"They're the Chaos Containment Centre, Morningstar. There isn't anything we can do about 'em." Wilford said.

Hōkū screwed his face up. He can't be serious! He's the leader of the Toppat Clan! He can do ANYTHING!

Wilford picked up on his frustration, but in return only let his weariness show. "I know what you're thinking, but this is the reality of being an elite: We don't have the power to fix every problem we find. We just do what we can to limit its impact on our Clan. Our job is to ensure its survival and keep people happy.

We ain't vigilantes, Morningstar: we're criminals. Remeber that."

"Speaking of survival..." Harry announced, "From here on forth you'll be doubling your training session, both with & without your abilities. We won't know for a while if their CCTV was transmitting a live feed beyond the container ship, but if that turns out to be the case, all 3 of us will have a rather large target on our backs."

Wilford nodded, "No doubt they'll want them back, if they realised it didn't go down with the ship."

Hōkū nodded, "Okay, but what about-"

"I'll be taking care of it personally, do not worry." Harry reassured. "Now, go get some rest. I'll meet you in my office in the morning to discus the details of our story further."

[SPEEDPAINT ⬇️]

[ink-flavored]

Pride & Justice: A Wary Truce

warnings: teenage bullying, teenage hooligans doing vandalism, bullying, yelling Banner art by @auroblaze P&J Taglist (Check out my Google form to get added): @elegant-paper-collection @auroblaze @zeenimf @vacantgodling @foxys-fantasy-tales @stesierra @noblebs @thelaughingstag @ceph-the-ghost-writer @damageinkorporated @wyked-ao3 @alesseia

Tips are appreciated!

Pride swung his tail over the side of the bench, stretched out on his back. It was bumpy and uncomfortable, but he’d take it over laying in the dirt. The clouds of smoke swirling from his horns put a gray haze over his view of the starry night sky. It didn’t bother him—stars didn’t hold all that much charm for him.

The one thing Pride definitely held was boredom. He never thought he’d get tired of pushing humans souls along the precipice of damnation, but the impossible inched close to becoming reality. He wanted to do something else—to go somewhere else. His options were annoyingly limited.

Earth sucked, he didn’t want to stay here anymore. If he never had to set foot in Hell again, it would be too soon. Trying to sneak into Heaven again was a recipe for getting dissolved to ashes before he reached the gates—there was no way they’d let their guard down so soon. Pride wasn’t sure he believed it, but even if Justice kept his promise and told everyone he was dead, the holy realm was nothing if not paranoid. So what was left? Purgatory?

Pride raked his hands down his face, pulling at his eyelids and stretching his cheeks. Making that contract was the stupidest thing he’d ever done.

A sweet-sour sting on his tongue interrupted his frustrated thoughts. There was a human around, maybe even a few, who had more than a little pent-up sin. Curious, Pride sat up to survey the park that had become his little domain.

The dim streetlamps that washed the park in gray light shadowed an entire group of humans. Young ones, by the looks of it, rolling toward the playground with excited confidence. They shoved each other, hooted, and cackled—all except one. A meek looking one hung far back in the group, arms crossed over a bulky sweatshirt. Pride folded his arms on the back of the bench, trying to figure out which one of them called his name.

“—gonna do it,” the leader of the group said, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder.

“You don’t think so?” another taunted.

“No way, man, he’s too much of a pussy.”

One by one, the main group turned around to sneer at their straggler. He balled his fists up, and Pride quirked an eyebrow at the flavor that flooded over his tongue. Icy-hot wrath and tart pride at once.

“I’m not a pussy,” the straggler insisted.

“Then prove it,” demanded the leader. He shoved the bag into the meek one’s chest. “Pussy.”

There came the wave again. Every human in this posse tasted a little like sin—mostly pride, with wrath and envy sprinkled unevenly among them—but the clearly-marked outcast reeked of it. A deep-seated, suppressed anger bubbled under his skin, kept at bay by a sliver of willpower. Pride could help with that.

He slunk off the bench, prowling through the darkness to meet his target. The kid was on his knees in the grass, digging through the bag forced into his arms. All the others in his group watched, arms folded and sneering. Invisible to their eyes, Pride crouched down and peeked over his shoulder to see what all the fuss was about. A metal bat, a few switchblades, lighter fluid, and clunky tools heavy enough to do blunt damage. Even through the darkness, Pride saw the kid’s hands shaking as he sorted through it all.

“Hurry the fuck up,” the leader ordered.

“I’m going,” the kid said, and hastily grabbed the bat from the trove. He stood up, and Pride stood with him. “Now what?”

“Do the honors.” The leader stepped back, gesturing at the playground behind them. “Unless you’re gonna chicken out.”

The kid flushed with sin again, staring down all the expectant onlookers, but didn’t move. His face screwed up in determination, full of potential, but nothing came of it. All that beautiful sin would go to waste. Pride took the opportunity.

He slunk an arm around the kid’s shoulders, leaning in to murmur into his ear. “You’re really going to let him talk to you like that?” he asked. “You’re going to act like a coward in front of them all?”

“Fine,” the kid spat at his leader. He stalked past the group, bouncing the bat in his shaking hand, with Pride hot on his heels. The rest of them followed, closing in so there was no escape. Pride felt the string of his influence waver with every step they took.

“You can’t back down now,” he insisted, feeding the impulse he’d tasted mere seconds ago. “Not unless you want to prove them all right.”

“I won’t,” the kid muttered. He stopped at one of the plastic slides and reeled back with the bat. He stopped at the peak of his swing. The hesitation threatened to snap the thread altogether. Pride went for the kill.

“What would she think, if she found out how much of a pansy you are?”

The cord of his influence tightened to steel. The kid flared his nostrils, spurred to action, and swung the bat down—

“Excuse me, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”

Pride’s ichor turned to ice. He and the humans whipped around at the same time, bearing witness to the most ridiculous thing that could have possibly happened that night.

“And I don’t think,” that stupid, fucking Angel of Justice said, duffel bag dangling from the strap in his hand, “that you’re supposed to have these either.”

“Scram!” the leader hissed.

“What?” asked the outcast, but it was too late.

All the humans scattered like frightened ants. Pride snapped his influence and ducked under the slide. Trying to avoid another dose of dumbass righteous fury, he circled around until he came under the shade of a tree, preparing for a fight. Justice hadn’t moved, though. He zipped up the bag, threw the strap over his shoulder, and only then did he approach the single shaking human.

The abandoned kid whipped his head side to side, trying to find where the rest of the humans had gone. Justice got closer, walking with purpose. He dropped the bat—Pride rolled his eyes—and tried to make a break for it.

“Hey,” Justice said. He barely grasped the kid’s shoulder, which was enough to make him freeze in fear. “Come on, you’re not in trouble.”

“Y-yeah! Good!” the kid stuttered, putting on the weakest show of defiance Pride had ever witnessed. “Because my friends would bail me out, you know.” Pride snorted.

“Your friends? The ones that just ran off to let you take the fall?” The kid flapped his jaw indignantly for a few seconds. Justice crouched down to his level, a sad smile on his face. “I think we both know they’re not really your friends.”

“They are! I’m just—They’re just teaching me how to be cool.”

“Real friends don’t try to change you.” He took the metal bat off the ground and laid it flat in his hands. “Or make you do things you don’t want to do.”

Pride seethed, lashing his tail, smoke gushing from his horns, as all potential sin bled out of his target. The tart flavor slipped off his tongue as the pointless angelic advice took hold.

“I think,” Justice continued, “you should find some people who already think you’re cool.”

“But what about… girls?” the kid asked, so meek Pride almost couldn’t parse what to snicker at.

Justice didn’t find it as funny. “If there’s a girl who wants you to act like someone you’re not, she doesn’t really like you at all.”

Sobered, the kid hung his head in defeat. Justice put the bat down and ruffled his hair, and they giggled together. Pride wished he had organs to throw up with.

“You’re kind,” Justice said. “Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

“Okay,” the kid agreed, hands deep in his pockets. “Thanks.”

The kid shuffled off into the night, not a drop of sin left in the air. Justice was the only thing left in the park, zipping the metal bat back up with all the other unused tools. And Pride’s promise of an interesting evening. He stomped out from behind his tree, hands on his hips.

“That was my catch, you know,” he snapped.

Justice stood and revealed his wings as he turned around, stark white feathers cutting through the night. Pride grimaced as the pinprick headache of an angel’s power hit. Justice made a similar face back.

“You’re going after children?” he asked.

Pride rolled his eyes at such a base accusation. “Oh come on, all humans are children. Your people said it yourself.”

“That’s—” Justice put his palms out to stop himself. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, you want to explain that?”

“Gladly. What are you doing here?”

“Uh, what does it look like?”

“I told you to go back to Hell!”

Pride laughed openly at the rage on his face. “You’re kidding me, that’s why you’re here?”

“This place reeks of sin! Do you know how idiotic it is that you stayed on Earth?”

Suddenly it wasn’t funny. Pride set his jaw, tail twitching. “What, like you’re any smarter?”

“Do you really think this—” Justice threw his arms out, gesturing to the park at large, “—is the safest place you can possibly be?”

“You’re the one who left me here, dumbass.”

“And I told you to leave!”

“Yeah, so fucking what? Why should I listen to you?”

“Because this place reeks, like I said.” He jabbed a finger up to the dark sky. “We can sense it from Heaven, and if anyone else catches on to why, we’re both. Dead.”

Pride folded his arms, unimpressed. “Not my problem.”

Justice stared at him like he’d grown an extra set of horns. “Your life is in danger. How is that not your problem?”

“If angels don’t have anything better to do than chase one demon around, that sounds like a you problem.”

Baffled was the only word that could accurately describe Justice’s reaction. He worked his jaw up and down and vaguely circled his arms. His wings half-flapped, like they couldn’t decide if it was better to fly away. Pride watched him struggle with cool disinterest.

“Are you serious?” Justice finally said.

Pride shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I saved your life.”

“Your decision.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Not a great choice, to be honest.”

He made a tortured noise, balling his hands into fists by his head. “We’re this close to being caught by Heaven’s entire garrison, and you can’t even accept a warning? Are you dense on purpose?”

Pride flared his nostrils, horns spewing dark clouds of smoke. “Hey, you’re the one who got me thrown behind bars in the first place, remember that?”

“And I defended you in your trial! I’m the only reason you got to tell your story at all! I helped you escape!”

“I didn’t ask for any of your fucking charity!”

Justice stalked up to him in two long strides. “But you got it! Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not a fucking thing, buddy!”

“The life of the only person in Heaven on your side doesn’t mean anything to you? Your own life doesn’t mean anything to you?” He scoffed and took a step back. “No, of course it doesn’t. All you had to do was go back to Hell, and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. But no, your ego is more important than accepting my freely offered help.”

“You know what, maybe it fucking is!” Pride stuck a finger in his face. “Maybe you’re not half as smart as you fucking think, Justice, because I’m as good as dead if I go back to Hell anyway!”

Pride only realized what came out of his mouth when Justice raised his brows. He clamped his jaw shut, too late to keep any more secrets.

“What do you mean?” Justice asked, less accusatory and more sympathetic. It made Pride’s skin crawl.

Pride chewed on his cheek for a long moment. “I have… enemies,” he finally said. “Having a contract left hanging makes you weak. And even if no one knows you helped me get out, the news that you defended me in that stupid trial has got to be spreading by now. Failing to complete the contract and needing an angel’s help would—” He bit the sentence short, not wanting to imagine it. “I wouldn’t be greeted with acceptance and understanding.”

Justice nodded seriously, but wouldn’t meet his eye. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well. Whatever you think Heaven’s going to do to me, Hell would be ten times worse.”

It was eerily quiet. All of Justice’s righteous anger was gone, replaced with pensive silence. Pride took the opportunity to sulk. He shouldn’t have let an angel get him so worked up. After revealing this much, letting slip that he had no choice, Justice would be free to do whatever he wanted. Take him anywhere he wanted—because he’d be dead either way.

“Most angels,” Justice suddenly said, “don’t like me all that much.”

“Like who?” Pride asked. “Honesty?”

He breathed a weary sigh. “Yes, like Honesty. She thinks I’m too soft for my work, too sympathetic. She’s been trying to get rid of me for ages, and it’s… not an unpopular opinion.”

After seeing Honesty’s entire face twitch during his trial, Pride couldn’t say he was surprised she didn’t like him. But most other angels too?

“Weren’t people defending you earlier?” Pride asked.

“A few,” Justice admitted. “Not enough of them can actually made decisions, though. And plenty of others already suspect I’m—” He closed his eyes, and looked pained. “They think I’m a traitor.”

“I mean technically—”

“I know, yes, by helping you I am.” He took a breath. “That’s not the point. The point is I’m already being treated suspiciously. It’s not long before Honesty and everyone else who already disliked me start blaming me outright for letting you escape.”

“Okay…?”

“Okay, so.” Justice stuck out a hand. “Truce?”

Pride stared at him. “What?”

“We stay down here on Earth, together. We lay low as humans, get everyone off our trails, and figure out how to complete your contract. Everybody wins.”

“How is this going to convince everyone you’re not a traitor?”

Justice swirled his hand, annoyed. “We can come up with excuses for that too, come on.”

That was the dumbest idea Pride had ever heard proposed. It sounded like the idea of someone desperate to stay alive, or someone too stupid to consider the consequences. Pride would be the biggest idiot in Hell, Heaven, and on Earth to agree to it.

But was he really any less desperate? No doubt he’d start getting chased around for refusing to cooperate with… whoever came to collect him. And having an unfulfilled contract was a ticking clock on his soul, too. He’d be an even bigger idiot to ignore that.

“Fine,” Pride agreed. He cautiously slid his hand forward to shake. “Truce.”

Justice grinned unreasonably wide and shook hard. “Okay! I guess we’re doing this.”

“I guess we are.”

We’re gonna die, Pride thought. But at least I convinced an angel to defect from Heaven.

And what better victory could he ever hope to get?

[evolutionsvoid]

It is almost funny how dragons seem to always be the go-to example when people talk about scary and dangerous things. It is like a knee jerk reaction whenever the subject comes up. People always be like "oooh I sure hope we don't run into a dragon!" or "imagine what would happen if a dragon wound up in our village!" To them, it is the worst possible thing to happen, until you actually start talking about other options. Is a dragon worse than an infestation of vampires? Maybe, but there is certainly an argument that could be made there. What about an angry troop of Eyahs? Oh but those are smaller, we are talking about big scary things! Nothing large could be scarier than a dragon! But then you ask "what if it was a giant bug?" and then suddenly a lot of people be changing their answers! It appears that once you start adding more limbs, people get more terrified. I don't quite understand it myself, but that is probably because I am a dryad. It is just humorous to me that the first answer to what would be the worst monster to run into is always a dragon, when there are plenty of options to pick from. Maybe people simply don't know the other beasts out there, so then perhaps this entry could help in educating others! Here is a new option for you to pick when you are faced with that question! You all like centipedes? How about REALLY big centipedes?

The sight of a real deal Omukade is one that really changes your perception of reality. You think you know everything, think you've seen everything, and then you come across a centipede that is practically the width and length of a road. I could bust out the measurements and tell you in detail how big they get, but it would never truly sink in. You have to see these things for yourself to truly comprehend it, and then immediately run somewhere else. The Omukade is a species of centipede that is found in mountainous regions, though its travels can take it into surrounding forests and it may build lairs in dark caves. The Omukade start their lives much smaller of course, emerging from their eggs at around a foot long. However, it appears that this species does not have a limit to how big they can get, continuing to grow as long as they are alive. And research is still struggling to figure out how long their lives are exactly, as we know specimens that are decades old but some folk suggest they could be reaching the century mark. And with each passing year, they get bigger and bigger. How can they do this, you may ask? Well, by eating everything they come across.

It should be no surprise that a massive centipede like this dines on whatever it feels like. Their size dictates what prey they go after, but outside of that, meat is meat. If it is something that they can catch, then they will eat it. When they are on the smaller side, Omukade will be active hunters, scouring the mountains and forests for food. Sensitive antenna and sensory organs help them track down prey, and they will go after any strong scent trails they come across. When food is in sight, they keep low and move slow, looking to surprise their target. If they are long enough, they may quietly circle prey and then thrash their tail as a distraction. Prey that falls for this ruse will turn to run, and wind up galloping straight into waiting jaws. Like all other centipedes, they sport a nasty pair of "fangs" that are actually modified legs. These contain a powerful and painful venom. While this venom does not paralyze limbs or screw with your blood, it does a good enough job of debilitating prey by filling them with agony. Omukade venom has been compared to the sensation of having molten metal injected into your veins, searing hot pain that never stops burning. While the long lasting effects can lead to extreme swelling and maddening itching, most don't live long enough to experience that. If an Omukade is close enough to "bite" you, then escape is near impossible. Their sharp legs will act as a cage of knives, impaling prey and pinning them. Then the powerful mandibles come in and tear through your flesh, and it is all over.

When Omukade start getting really big, these active hunts become too taxing. So instead, they go the route of ambush, laying their entire body out like a road of bear traps. They hide their body under brush and dirt, with their belly pointed up. This allows their legs to attack prey that wanders by, almost acting like they have a mind of their own. Their serpentine form has patches of black setae that act as feelers, letting them know what is happening from tooth to tail and everything in between. The steps of prey create vibrations these hairs can feel, and it lets their segments know when food is getting close. When they walk atop the hidden centipede, the legs burst from the ground and impale them. Death may not be instant or guaranteed here, but their main goal is to trap you. If you cannot escape their grip, then the dagger-like legs will continue to hold as one or two more start stabbing violently. They aim to let blood loss do all the work, and once prey is weakened enough, the legs will start moving them down towards the head. The stopping point of this grueling series of hand offs (or, foot offs) is the waiting jaws. Prey is quickly devoured and the legs return to their hiding place.

If food wanders close enough to the head while the beast is hiding, then it may attempt to lunge forth and grab them. And if it is a big enough meal that is worth the effort, they may emerge enough to pursue or do battle. Massive Okumade can take on practically any foe, including the serpentine True Dragons of this region! The two seem to almost have a rivalry, as they tend to fight whenever they encounter one another. Either side has a chance to win, though it mostly depends on who is bigger or more experienced. Omukade chitin is very resistant to flame, and their armor wards off tooth and claw. Their thick black mane also has irritating hairs it can release as a defensive measure, causing much misery when it gets in the eyes, nose or mouth. Older Okumade have learned to use these hairs when their dragon foe seeks to breath flame, as their sharp inhale makes them vulnerable to sucking in these tiny barbs. Once in the throat, they torment and irritate, making it hard to use their fire breath and creating an opening for the centipede to strike. Omukade tend to go after younger dragons, even raiding nests if they can. These actions have made them life long enemies to the dragons, but honestly this species doesn't really make friends with anyone. Even the Pale Serpent doesn't like them, which is why their mountain is devoid of any and all centipedes.

Shock of all shocks, the locals hate them too. Okumade are a menace, be it the young who go after livestock, or the old who booby trap entire areas with their deadly bodies. Their hatching season is considered a time of great danger out in the wilds, as swarms of small venomous centipedes are out looking for their first meal. Those that grow up some will come to villages if times are tight, and it isn't uncommon for an Omukade to learn that man makes good prey. Large ones will take over busy roads, or areas with plenty of travel, looking to feed off of travelers and caravans. Some have been said to slither into farms at night, and empty the entire pasture in hours. Including the farmer and their family. Fighting them is a difficult task, and also a risky one. Giant Omukade sit still for long periods and use ambush hunting because moving their bodies uses up a lot of energy. If you were to disturb one and force it to expend too much, they they may go on a feeding rampage to try and make it all back up. If you thought it haunting the road was bad, wait til it starts tearing towards town!

Due to their aggressive nature and ravenous hunger, Omukade are seen as an "evil" species. This is compared to the heavenly dragons that the locals love, which means when these two titans clash, the people always root for the same side. Even then, the Omukade and its reputation makes it a fine specimen for art and culture. In the crime world, the centipede is a favored symbol, and many see primal ferocity and hunger in its image. Their chitin and claws are used in armor and weapons, and even ceremonial costumes are derived from their carcasses. During my travels, I saw a freaky oni costume that was made almost entirely from Omukade parts, utilizing its horned head and ebony mane. Obviously, the dancers in these costume are the bad guys in any tale. Eating them depends solely on their age, as folk will dine on their eggs or small baby forms, but will not touch the meat of a titanic one. It is said that the flesh of the ancient ones is corrupting and steeped in curses, while the young have not had enough time to infuse their meat with evil deeds. But even with this use of the centipede in art and dining, any appreciation of them vanishes when a giant one goes on a rampage.

When dealing with a massive Omukade, it turns into a war zone, as every part of them is deadly. Even trying to attack it from behind is futile, as its barbed tails can shred you as if they were bladed serpents. They plow through buildings with their armored bodies, and their legs skewer any who get in the way. Due to their incredible power and durability, the Okumade has been labeled a "dragon level threat." Which means they are as dangerous and deadly as a dragon! Don't get that confused with the fact that they are classified as "dragon eaters," which is an unofficial category of species that are capable of hunting and killing dragons. But that doesn't mean "dragon beasts," which some say the Okumade is, calling them "Centipede Dragons." No no, it applies to those who eat True Dragons! So keep it straight! The Centipede Dragon is a dragon beast that is known to be a dragon level threat and also a dragon eater that eats True Dragons. DO YOU SEE HOW THAT SOUNDS?! No, Chlora! Hold it back! Hold it back, Chlora! We can't keep doing this!

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

[kanmom51]

Me being a broken record

With everything that went down the past few days, I kind of feel the need to play this on repeat, so I'm going at this from another angle.

JK is not the person people are trying to paint him out to be.

This callous macho sex fiend, that at the moment, even though people keep screaming "well, he might be bi", they are actually only talking about him screwing women. And lots of them. In different places, at different times. He's a fuckboy par excellence.

And those that take that one step further also have him cheating on JM, breakup stories, make up stories, full on fanfics in the making.

I have addressed much of this here:

He also addressed some of this in last night's Stationhead.

And did the whole TikTok post and delete thingy.

I get it.

Well, part of it.

3D kind of shook some people.

It was the very obvious meaning of the song, JK singing on repeat girl, and I think the big big thing here was Jack Harlow's lyrics. I think for many the initial knee jerk reaction was to those lyrics. And I will admit, I had that same knee jerk reaction (to JH's lyrics).

I still don't like them. Whichever way you look at them, they are problematic.

But I came to live with the song, cause it's JK, cause when you listen to it on repeat you just can't get rid of it (🤣), cause I like his performance (yes, including the certain very sexual moves. Hey, I'm no prude), and cause I just tend to listen to the alternative version and when I have the clip running on YT phase out from the rap (cause I just don't like it).

But for many, as I got to discover after this whole shitshow blew up, JK singing girl in a song for which he did not even write the lyrics is all it took to throw away everything people saw and knew about Jikook and JK in behaviour and interactions over the past 10 years. For that.

Forget the y/ns. All they needed and were waiting for was that kind of confirmation. They didn't need anything more than JK saying that one word. The choreo being sexual added, of course. It being sexual either way making no difference. Either way meaning every single move that was considered sexual can be applied to either male or female!!!

Oh, and there was this:

But you see, this is what actually happened:

By the by, big deal. Big deal JK does the thrusts in the choreo. Big deal JK did that flicking of the hand. Even if he did it only not to leave Brian hanging, literally. He is an adult, and do I remind that JM did the same in the recording of their Idol MV? Him doing all of this doesn't make him into what people are trying to paint him to be.

So, we were at this point where people that were supposed to have JK's back, in the sense that even if they had doubt the least they could have done was not to continue to spread it, and with every tweet or post add a little more conjecture and assumption, none of it based in facts, didn't. Have his back in the sense of perhaps stepping back for a second and waiting to see where the stones fall, didn't. See if there is a statement, if JK says something, they didn't. There was a clear intent in the timing of these clips and pics. Posting them just after the release of the song and during Chuseok, so it takes time for whoever it is that needs or wants to take action. So it gives time for it to spread. And it did. Not with Karmy. Cause they had JK's back. Not with Chinese army, cause they were fighting the claims for authenticity of the clips, fighting the claims of harassment that were also raised against him. This was a coordinated targeted attack. And instead of having his back, I-army just went with it. Spreading it. Defending the authenticity of it. Yes, there were cries for breach of privacy. All while continuing to spread the clip over sm.

We don't know these young men fully. We also don't know what they do with their time. We get maybe a 0.01% of it now. Before we got more. The early years we got a shit ton. Not everything. But enough to see who they are as human beings. The good and the bad. And NOTHING that we got over the years, and even more so through the maybe somewhat tainted Jikook glasses indicates JK to be that person that he was painted out to be in the past few days.

The man that talked about being with that one person for life. The man that believes in destiny. The man that arranged and paid for a trip for JM to Japan knowing he was struggling at that time, going on that trip with him, doing what JM wanted to do, even when it wasn't necessarily what he would have chosen to have done (remember RM and Jhope's conversation about JM dragging JK around Malta?). The man that made that HUGE statement at RB. We all focus on the ear sucking, but this was way more than that. JK enveloping JM, whispering something in his ear. Kissing his ear. Then sucking it, kissing it again and then comforting him, helping him up and just being by his side. This is the man that fucking tattooed JM's name on his hand for all to see. That tattooed a moon on his shoulder. That tattooed an eclipse on his arm. This is the man that during a LV concert looking at JM, talking to JM, said "I LOVE YOU", out loud, for all of us to hear. And if, by any chance, he wasn't aware the mic was still on for all of us to hear, wouldn't that have been even WAY louder? No realising we are hearing him saying it to JM, that it was meant for his ears only. This is a man that has dedicated almost full lives to JM. Listening to and singing his songs, watching JM content adoringly.

All that and so so much more.

Enter a grainy clip with faces literally white washed, a couple of more either badly edited clips and pics and all is forgotten. JK is the ultimate playboy. Multiple girlfriends (what name wasn't attached to him?).

And when JK denies having a gf then it's: "but the clip is old" or "doesn't mean he doesn't sleep around".

Instead of listening to him.

You think he doesn't know when this is supposed to be from? The clip. For god's sake, the dog being there was what everyone latched onto. So he knows. And he said I don't have a gf but was talking about THAT clip. You expected him to say "yes I saw the clip, I didn't have a gf then"? No. This is what he could do. And again, instead of listening to him, what he's trying to tell us: NO GF, NO NEED FOR ONE, people are about trying to see why the clip could still be legitimate, authentic, and/or why it doesn't mean he isn't sleeping around.

Perhaps that's why he felt the need to comeback with his ever so loud TikTok post and delete.

Anyway, me ranting again.

[pushovermediacritic]

Just 'cause it's on my mind, one of my big naive hopes for The One Piece is that they actually put effort into fixing Sanji's moveset. Oda is actually shockingly consistent on what motions Sanji does for what moves, and the Toei anime constantly changes and alters his fight choreography.

When Oda's writing Sanji, every single time Sanji does Collier Shoot, it's a backflip front kick to the neck. Every time Sanji does Flanchet Shoot, it's a stomping back kick to the stomach. Every time Sanji does Joue Shoot, it's a side kick to the cheek, then Sanji swings his leg further to launch them away. Every time Sanji does Mouton Shot, it's a rapid-fire barrage of back kicks.

Based on that choreography, you can also see which moves are meant to be super versions of other moves. Crosse Strike is a super version of Collier Shoot. Bien Cuit Grill Shot is a super version of Flanchet Shoot. Rotisserie Strike is a super version of Joue Shoot. Boeuf Burst is a super version of Mouton Shot.

And if we get into Sanji's basic moveset, not his stronger moves (including the regular Collier, Flanchet, and Joue, those are separate moves from their Shoot variations), you see that all of them are named after whichever part of the body he's targeting, so you'd think it wouldn't be that hard for the anime to get the clue and keep it consistent, right?

This is the combo Sanji used to beat Kuroobi:

Simple, right? It's a side kick to the throat, a stomp on the shoulder, two hook kicks to the back, a stomp on the chest, and then a kick to the knee to stun him to set up for the final blow, a barrage. Toei messed up this sequence twice:

The first version is fine until Cotolette and Selle are a bit different, then Poitrene is completely different and Gigot isn't even vaguely close to the same move. And then they screw up Mouton Shot by making it a single hit instead of a barrage.

The second version gets Mouton Shot right, but screws up the combo even worse by moving Gigot earlier, removing the form from Cotolette and Selle, and adding some random bits of clashing that break up the combo.

Another example of Toei messing up Sanji's choreography is when he uses Anti-Manner Kick Course to knock Oars down. Anti-Manner Kick Course is a stomping kick straight up, that's always been how Oda has presented it. But the anime turned it into a big flying side kick for some reason.

And Toei screwed up Boeuf Burst, too, in the same way they screwed up Mouton Shot, by making it a single hit instead of a barrage.

There are countless more examples I could point to of this, but generally, my point is just that I hope The One Piece doesn't make Toei's mistake in assuming that all of Sanji's moves are interchangeable kicks with no meaningful differences between them.

[snowdrop-ivy]

The Light Within: II - Way Down We Go

Summary: In a world where danger lurks at every corner, will Anna and Bucky find the strength to confront their pasts and embrace a future together, or will their scars keep them apart forever?

The quiet tension of the café was suffocating. Sokovia had changed everything—heroes, villains, and the fragile world caught in between. For Anna, the simplicity she craved felt like a distant dream, especially now, sitting across from her old friend Ade, pretending to sip coffee while her mind reeled with the task ahead. Rumlow was lurking somewhere, and they needed to find him. Fast.

Her earpiece buzzed to life. Steve’s calm, calculated voice cut through the haze. “All right, what do you see?”

Anna glanced around, her eyes scanning the ordinary street that belied the storm brewing beneath it. “Cops. Civilians. Quiet street,” she responded, her voice low as she took another sip.

“There’s an ATM on the south corner, which means?” Steve’s voice pressed on.

“Cameras,” Wanda answered, pulling her cap lower, as if trying to shield herself from more than just recognition. “Both cross streets are one way. So, compromised escape routes.”

Anna’s gaze flickered to Ade, her voice dropping to a whisper. “This guy doesn’t care about being seen. He’s not afraid to make a mess. But we can’t. We screw this up, we’re done. And this mission’s not authorized, which means if we mess up—well, we’re fucked.”

Sam’s playful whistle buzzed through the comms. “Ohhh, language.”

Steve, ever the soldier, got straight to business. “See that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

Anna couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips. “That’s our getaway car?”

Natasha chimed in, her voice dry as ever. “It’s bulletproof, which means more guns. More security. More headaches. Probably ours.”

Anna shrugged at Nat’s glance, the unspoken understanding between them palpable. They had been through too much to need words.

Wanda’s voice cut through the chatter. “You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?”

Anna snickered, her tone sharp. “You say it like it’s a good thing. Newsflash—it’s not.”

Wanda’s eyes flickered with a shadow of hurt. “You still hate me, huh? I didn’t mean to… with Tony…”

Anna’s face hardened. “Let’s just not screw up this time.” The truth was, Anna didn’t hate Wanda. But powers weren’t something to be proud of—they were a burden, and they had caused too much chaos already.

Steve’s voice broke through their moment, sharp and commanding. “Eyes on the target, folks. This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”

Anna felt the tension in her gut. Sam’s voice, tinged with his usual humor, lightened the mood briefly. “If he sees us coming, that won’t be a problem.”

Anna chuckled, though it felt hollow. “Yeah, he kinda hates us.”

They had a plan—or at least the semblance of one. Ade would stay inside the bank, her position secure. The rest of them were scattered like shadows, waiting for the inevitable clash.

The moment the truck appeared, all hell broke loose. Sam’s sharp call echoed through the comms, followed by the snap of action. Anna’s body surged into motion, her powers rippling through her veins as she hurled the truck into the air with a flick of her mind. Gunmen swarmed, but she was faster, crushing their weapons and slamming them into the pavement.

Steve was beside her in seconds, their synchronization instinctive after years of fighting together. “Body armor. AR15s. I make seven hostiles.”

Anna took to the roof, disarming two gunmen with a force field and sending them hurtling into a nearby tree. “Make that five.”

Sam and Wanda were swift, dispatching two more, leaving only three. Rumlow was somewhere in the chaos, and Anna’s focus narrowed as Steve called out, “Just like before.”

With a nod, Anna projected him to the third floor. She and Wanda split up, controlling the gas leak before it spread to the civilians below. Wanda sent it into the air, but Anna’s warning was quick, sharp. “Great job, but careful. That’ll explode.”

Wanda smiled at the rare compliment, but the moment of peace was shattered as Natasha fell into the truck. A bomb was tossed in behind her. Anna was on it in an instant, crushing the soldier and throwing up a force field just in time to contain the blast.

“You good?” she asked, her breath ragged.

“Just a scratch,” Nat quipped, taking Anna’s hand to stand. But there was no time to relax. An explosion rocked the building where Steve was fighting Rumlow, and Anna’s heart sank as she saw Rumlow making his escape.

Then it happened. Rumlow detonated his payload.

“Wanda!” Anna’s scream tore through the air. “Force field now!”

They both reacted, but Wanda’s control faltered. The force field lashed out, throwing Anna back and sending Rumlow crashing into the building—the very one Anna had warned them not to touch. Her blood ran cold. Ade was inside.

The flames engulfed the structure in seconds. Anna’s world tunneled as Steve held her back from the inferno. “You can’t go in!” he shouted.

“I said let me go, Rogers!” Anna’s voice was raw, filled with a fury that only grew as she realized the depth of the catastrophe. Steve, seeing the fire in her eyes, relented.

She flew to Wanda, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling with rage and grief. She grabbed Wanda’s jacket, her voice barely holding together. “She has a family. Who’s gonna tell them now?”

Wanda’s face twisted in fear—of Anna, of herself, of the destruction she couldn’t take back.

Days had passed, each one dragging painfully into the next. Anna had locked herself away, avoiding the outside world, even Tony. She buried herself in her room, enveloped by grief and loss, each heartbeat echoing the absence of her friend. Photos of happier times stared back at her, reminders of joy now shadowed by the faces of her children—their expressions twisted in confusion when she had finally revealed the heart-wrenching truth.

Just then, FRIDAY’s voice pierced her solitude, startling her. “Anna, Mr. Stark is looking for you.”

“Tell him I’m sick,” she replied, the lie tumbling out of her mouth, a flimsy shield against the reality she couldn’t bear to face.

“He said if you don’t come out, he’ll break the door.”

With a heavy sigh, she rose and entered his room. There, a hologram of his parents danced in the air, and a young Tony stood among them, a ghost from the past. Leaning against the door frame, she crossed her arms, bracing herself.

“You like it, kid?” Tony asked, his back still turned to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, her curiosity dulled by her sorrow.

“Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing,” he explained, the excitement in his voice overshadowed by the weight of the moment. “B.A.R.F. I really need to work on that acronym.”

“Nice,” she replied, her tone flat, the enthusiasm escaping her like air from a punctured balloon.

“You wanna use it?”

His question took her by surprise. She braced herself, half-expecting a lecture about her choices, but instead, he stood before her, concern etched across his features.

“For what?” she asked, her mind racing.

“You know,” he sighed, stepping closer. “My poor kid, have you been sleeping?”

Anna couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, his voice laced with genuine concern. “I won’t push you. Whatever you’re thinking, I’m just here when you’re ready to talk.”

She shot back, “So unlike you.” In that moment, a flicker of understanding passed between them, and without thinking, she rushed into his arms. Tony was taken aback but quickly embraced her, inhaling her scent, kissing her head, wishing time would freeze. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You got it, kid,” he said, his grip firm but gentle, taking in the changes he could see so clearly now. She could sense the turmoil in his heart, a whirlwind of emotions tied to Miriam Sharpe and the aftermath of Sokovia.

“Let’s go, they’re waiting for us,” he finally said.

As they entered the conference room, the atmosphere shifted. Everyone was already present, the tension palpable. Wanda’s heart sank at the sight of Anna, recognizing the damage that had been done, the violet bruise peeking out as Anna hurried to cover it. Steve hesitated, grappling with how to approach her, while Natasha exchanged glances with Anna, their shared understanding lingering in the air.

Anna sat down behind Steve, crossing her arms and legs defensively. He cast worried glances her way, but she turned away, her head hung low until Ross entered and launched into a monologue. Anna’s focus drifted, her gaze fixed on the wall behind him, trying to filter out his words.

“What term would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asked.

“How about ‘dangerous’?” Ross shot back, his gaze fixed on Anna and Wanda. “What do you call a group of US-based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore borders and impose their will, seemingly unconcerned about the consequences?”

He displayed footage—memories of their actions laid bare for all to see. Each frame felt like a punch to the gut. Anna fought against the rising tide of emotions, her throat constricting painfully as the reality of their actions became undeniable. It was when the images from Laos flickered onto the screen that the dam broke. Tears streamed down her face, a painful reminder of the lives they had shattered.

Steve noticed, his expression shifting as he caught sight of the raw pain etched on her face, the redness around her eyes betraying her sleepless nights.

“All right, that’s enough,” he finally said, a protective edge to his voice.

Ross pressed on, unfazed. “For the past four years, you’ve operated unchecked. That ends now.”

Anna took a trembling breath, wiping her tears as Ross set a book on the table. “The Sokovia Accords,” he declared, “approved by 117 countries. The Avengers will no longer be a private organization. They will operate under a UN panel’s supervision.”

Steve’s face fell, hurt flickering across his features as he turned toward Anna. “You knew about this?”

“Eleven,” she murmured, her voice steady yet filled with emotion.

The room fell silent, everyone’s attention shifting to her.

“That’s how many people died in Lagos, including Ade. New York? Seventy-four. DC? Two hundred. Sokovia?” She leveled her gaze at Steve. “Three thousand. Three thousand and one if you count Pietro. So tell me, Captain, do you still think this world is a safe place?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, the weight of her words settling in.

“If you hear about it, those are just numbers, right?” she continued, her voice firm. “But those are people—human beings—that we— not Ultron, Loki, HYDRA, or Rumlow—killed. Take those numbers, multiply them by their families: their kids, parents, spouses, siblings. Soak that in. That’s how many lives we’ve destroyed.”

Silence enveloped the room until Ross broke it. “You have three days to decide before the UN meets in Vienna. Talk it over.”

The team retreated to the common room, the air thick with unspoken tension. Tony slumped in a chair, his head resting on his hands, while Nat sat beside him, a frown on her face. Steve sat on the couch, disengaged in a heated discussion with Rhodes. Wanda and Vision exchanged worried glances, and Anna perched on the counter, nursing a beer as she watched the chaos unfold.

“Conflict breeds catastrophe,” Vision stated. “Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodes interjected, teasing Wilson, who scowled in response.

“Tony,” Natasha called, making him look up. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“It’s cause he already made up his mind,” Steve retorted.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony teased, standing up and taking Anna’s drink for a sip. “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache.”

Anna settled into the seat Tony had vacated. He continued to ramble, projecting another hologram. “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. Great kid, computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. He had a floor-level gig at Intel lined up for the fall.”

“He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor,” Tony continued, gesturing to the photo. “Guess where? Sokovia.”

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose,” Tony said, his tone shifting as he grabbed a pill and a glass of water. “But we wouldn’t know, would we? Because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their past mistakes pressing down on them. Anna took a sip of her beer, fighting against the tide of fresh tears threatening to spill over. Steve and Tony continued their argument, each standing firm in their beliefs—Tony insisting they needed accountability, while Steve countered that the UN might have a hidden agenda.

“If we don’t do this now,” Tony insisted, crossing his arms, “it’s gonna be done to us later.”

“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” Wanda stated matter-of-factly.

“And me,” Anna added, glancing at her. “And Vision, and every enhanced individual they find.”

“Tony’s right,” Natasha suggested. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off…”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupted.

Nat sighed, gathering her thoughts. “I’m just reading the terrain. We’ve made public mistakes, and we need to win their trust back.”

Tony chuckled. “Did I mishear you? Or did you just agree with me?”

Anna fought a smile as Nat sighed in defeat. “Oh, I want to take it back.”

“Okay, case closed,” Tony declared triumphantly. “I win.”

Their laughter faded as they turned to find Steve abruptly leaving the room, his expression grim. Nat and Anna exchanged knowing glances, recognizing where he was headed. The team dispersed, and the two women prepared to follow Steve. Nat drove, Anna beside her, staring out the window, lost in thought.

“You haven’t talked to me,” Nat finally said, breaking the silence, her eyes focused on the road.

Anna took a deep breath. “After Sokovia, I hated what I had—what I could do. I used to think I could save anyone. But when I realized I couldn’t…” Her voice trailed off, the weight of her past bearing down on her.

“Hey,” Nat said, turning her head to meet Anna’s gaze. “You saved me.”

A small smile crept onto Anna’s face, a flicker of warmth cutting through the heaviness in her heart.

When they entered the church, Anna took a moment to gather herself before approaching Steve, who stood lost in thought, gazing at Peggy’s photo.

“When I was in the ice,” Steve began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’d look back and wonder how we got here. I thought of all the times I let her down. What could I have done differently?”

“I’m sure she had your back too,” Anna replied softly, offering a timid smile. Just as she sensed Steve was about to apologize, she cut him off. “You don’t have to do that.”

Before he could protest, he enveloped her in a hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Captain,” Anna replied, her heart swelling with warmth. Just then, Natasha entered, breaking the moment.

“Who else signed?” Steve asked, glancing at Natasha.

Natasha’s gaze flickered to Anna first. “Tony, Rhodey, Vision.”

“Clint?”

“Says he’s retired,” Anna shrugged.

“Wanda?”

“TBD,” Natasha smiled. “We’re off to Vienna to sign the accords.”

“There’s plenty of room in the jet,” Anna suggested, but Steve’s expression turned grave, head hanging low.

“Just because it’s the path of least resistance doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path,” Natasha reminded him, her voice steady.

Steve took a deep breath, the weight of their choices heavy on his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, meeting their eyes with sincerity. “I can’t sign it.”

Anna shrugged, the resignation settling in. “We know.”

“Then what are you both doing here?” he asked, confusion evident on his face.

“Well,” Anna sighed, her voice gentle. “We didn’t want you to be alone.”

With that, Steve enveloped them both in a hug, their bond unbroken even in the face of uncertainty. As Natasha and Anna prepared to leave, Anna called out, “Hey, Steve.”

He turned back, curiosity in his eyes.

“Go check on Bucky,” she urged, head turned slightly. “I got a feeling that something's coming for him.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what she sensed regarding Bucky. He nodded slowly, gratitude mingling with uncertainty before she bid him farewell, the weight of their impending decisions hanging in the air. 

In the heart of Vienna, a city poised on the cusp of history with the imminent signing of the Accords, tragedy struck without warning. The air, once filled with diplomatic anticipation, was shattered by the deafening blast of a terrorist bomb. The world mourned as King T’Chaka of Wakanda, a symbol of strength and wisdom, was killed in the explosion. Panic ensued, but the security footage brought a far more personal and devastating revelation: the prime suspect was none other than Bucky Barnes. The grief-stricken eyes of T’Chaka’s son, T’Challa, hardened into a vengeful glare as he vowed to bring his father’s killer to justice, no matter the cost.

Despite Natasha Romanoff’s cautious counsel, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, their faces drawn with the weight of past battles, chose defiance. They couldn’t wait for bureaucracy. Ross be damned—they would bring in Bucky themselves, before anyone else got to him. But Bucky, elusive as ever, slipped through their grasp, fleeing into the streets with T’Challa, the Panther, hot on his heels.

Through narrow alleys and bustling roads, they raced into a tunnel, shadows swallowing their figures. Suddenly, the pursuit halted—stopped not by walls or barricades, but by the shimmering energy of a force field. From its center emerged Anna, her gaze sharp, her posture unyielding as she descended before Steve and Bucky, T’Challa beside her, fury barely contained.

"Stand down," Anna’s voice rang out, an unspoken threat lying beneath her calm exterior, hands poised to strike. Silence fell as no one moved, the tension thick between them. Slowly, she lowered her hands, the heat of the moment cooling. Her eyes locked onto Steve with a bitter smile.

"Congratulations, Cap. You’re a criminal now."

Bucky’s heart raced—not from the chase, but from the sight of her. Her words were cold, but her presence thawed something deep within him. The last time they’d crossed paths had been a fleeting moment—just a week ago, in the soft light of dawn, when she jogged by for her morning coffee. The memory clung to him, and now, as she approached, the air between them thickened.

"You too, Sergeant," she whispered, her voice barely audible but hitting him like a punch.

They were led away, their fates sealed for now, into a waiting van and transported to a secure facility. Steve, ever the soldier, kept his composure, but concern tugged at his brow as he was met by Everett Ross, flanked by Sharon.

"What’s gonna happen to him?" Steve’s voice held a note of desperation as he glanced back at Bucky.

"Same thing that ought to happen to you," Everett answered with cold detachment. "Psychological evaluation and extradition."

Inside the compound, the tension only deepened. Sam and Steve entered, greeted by the familiar faces of Anna and Natasha, their expressions a mixture of frustration and fatigue. They walked in silence, the weight of their decisions pressing heavily on their shoulders.

"For the record, this is what making things worse looks like," Natasha remarked, her voice sharp as a blade.

"He’s alive," Steve responded, his conviction unwavering.

"Good for him," Anna shot back with a dry laugh, the bitterness in her tone unmistakable.

The air in the room shifted when Tony Stark, ever the orchestrator of chaos, strode in, phone in hand, mid-conversation. "Consequences? You bet there’ll be consequences," he said, hanging up with a sharp click. His gaze fell on Steve and Sam, his expression unreadable.

"Secretary Ross wants you both prosecuted," Tony pointed, the weight of his words landing hard. "Had to give him something."

Steve, resigned but ever defiant, asked the question already hanging in the air. "I’m not getting that shield back, am I?"

"Technically, it’s the government’s property," Anna interjected, her words slicing through the room.

"Wings too," Natasha added, her eyes flicking to Sam.

"That’s cold," Sam muttered, shaking his head.

"Warmer than jail," Tony quipped, shrugging the final punctuation on the grim reality they now faced.

Tony and Steve sat down inside the glass room. Steve stood firm, his presence as solid as the shield he once bore. Opposite him, Tony, his eyes weary, fought to keep the tremor of desperation from his voice. The two men who had once led the Avengers into battle together now found themselves standing on opposite sides of a fault line, the ground between them crumbling with each passing moment. As Steve left, firm that he will not sign it, he went inside another glass room where Nat and Anna were standing outside. Sam was sitting on the chair just as they watched Bucky being evaluated. Sharon entered the room, handing Sam the receipt of their gears.

“Bird costume? Really?” Sam annoyingly asked.

Nat and Anna looked at each other, hiding their smiles at Sam’s annoyance. Sharon then pressed a button to focus the monitor on Bucky. Steve gave her a look of thanks. Anna was intently watching Bucky, studying his features. Then the lights went out, they looked at each other in confusion. Readying themselves for the upcoming doom. Steve turned her head at Sharon as she said where Bucky is located. Sam and Steve rushed. Anna, Tony, and Nat got ready to exit the room.

“Please tell me you brought a suit,” Nat snickered at Tony.

“Sure did,” He sarcastically answered. “It’s a lovely Tom Ford, three-piece, two-button. I’m an active-duty non-combatant.”

Sharon rushed to their side. Guided them to the exit. “Follow me.”

Tony lunged first, his body a blur of movement as he fired a blast from his reactor. The shot rippled through the air, forcing Bucky to stumble back, the very sound of it repelling him. But Tony wasn’t done—he fired again, relentlessly closing the distance between them, until he was close enough to swing.

Bucky, ever the soldier, countered in a flash, raising his gun with precision. But Tony, with swift, calculated reflexes, grabbed hold of the weapon’s side, his helmet absorbing the shot before it could find its mark. In one fierce motion, he yanked the barrel away, leaving the gun useless in Bucky’s grip. Without hesitation, Tony swung the barrel, the cold metal slicing across Bucky’s face.

Bucky barely had time to react before swinging his elbow into Tony’s face. The blow landed hard, followed by a vicious punch to Tony’s gut, sending him crashing into a chair that skidded across the floor with a screech. But Bucky wasn’t done yet. As he regained his footing, the fight still boiling in his veins, Natasha was there—her leg arcing toward his face with lethal grace.

Bucky reacted in the blink of an eye, blocking her kick with his arm, but Nat was relentless. Her other leg followed, connecting hard against his vibranium arm with a dull, metallic thud. She barely had time to react before Anna appeared, a sudden whirlwind of movement. Her knee collided with Bucky’s chest, driving the air from his lungs as her arm swung low, striking at his knee and forcing a groan of pain from his lips.

Nat was on him again, a blur of motion, her leg striking toward his head. The hit was clean, but the next one grazed his shoulder. Bucky, his instincts sharper than ever, caught her leg in mid-air and yanked her off balance. With a fierce pull, he threw her down, sending her crashing through a table that splintered beneath the impact.

But Anna wasn’t done. She was on him, clawing her way on his back with a determined fire. Her legs circled his head as she pressed her elbows down, raining blows onto him. Bucky’s grip tightened as he wrestled her down on the table, refusing to use his vibranium arm, instead relying on the strength of his flesh hand. His fingers curled around her neck, tightening as their gazes locked—each daring the other to break.

Anna’s face flushed crimson, her breaths becoming shallow, her grip on his arm weakening. Bucky’s heart pounded, the tension rising in his body as he watched her struggle, the air slipping away. But then, in a moment of hesitation—of something almost tender—Bucky loosened his grip. His hand fell away along with her necklace, and Anna’s legs unwound from his body.

Their eyes met, a wordless exchange passing between them. Bucky stepped back, his body still taut with adrenaline, before he turned and left her behind, breathless and broken amidst the wreckage. Anna recovered her breathing, holding his neck, still feeling the warmth of his hand around it as she followed him with his gaze as she sat down. The little glances Bucky turned back to her just to check if she was okay. Those made her confused even more. Tony went to her and Nat and she healed them from their pain from the combat. 

The lake glistened ominously under the waning sun as Steve sprinted along the shoreline, his heart hammering in his chest. He had almost been fast enough—almost. But the helicopter was already careening into the lake, spiraling downward as Bucky, unconscious, succumbed to the crash. With a desperate dive, Steve plunged into the frigid water, pulling Bucky's limp form from the wreckage. They reached the shore, drenched and breathless, but Steve didn’t stop. He dragged Bucky into the shelter of an abandoned basement, where Sam waited grimly.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Bucky lay strapped to a hydraulic press, his vibranium arm immobilized by cold steel. His eyelids fluttered open, confusion clouding his gaze as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

“Hey, Cap!” Sam’s voice cut through the stillness, summoning Steve from his vigil by the doorway.

Steve moved quickly, his steps heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. He found Bucky stirring, groaning in pain as he attempted to sit up, leaning on the machinery for support. Bucky’s voice was a rasp, barely more than a whisper, “Steve.”

Steve's heart clenched. He couldn’t afford to be careless. Saving Bucky had made him a criminal, but the real question gnawed at him. Which Bucky was this?

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve’s tone was cautious, his eyes sharp, every muscle in his body taut.

Bucky met Steve’s gaze, weary but sincere. “Your mom’s name was Sarah,” he muttered, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

The relief washed over Steve like a wave, his posture softening, just a little. “You can’t read that in a museum,” he said, his voice thick with unspoken gratitude.

Sam, watching from the corner, shook his head in disbelief. “Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?”

Bucky’s expression shifted, a haunted look settling over his features. “What did I do?” The question hung in the air, heavy with the burden of guilt he was bracing himself to carry.

“Enough,” Steve replied grimly, his eyes flicking to something in Bucky’s hand. “What you got there?”

Bucky glanced down, the small piece of jewelry catching the light—a necklace. His face darkened with the memory. “Anna’s necklace,” he said softly, the weight of what he had done pressing harder on him.

“Why’d you get it?” Sam’s voice was teasing, but Bucky’s somber tone silenced him.

“I don’t know,” Bucky whispered, tucking it back into his pocket as if the simple act could somehow lessen the pain. “I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All they had to do was say the goddamn words.”

Steve’s breath caught. The raw vulnerability in Bucky’s voice struck him like a blow to the chest. His friend—no, his brother—was still trapped beneath the weight of his past.

The conversation shifted, the seriousness of the situation looming larger. Bucky explained the depth of HYDRA’s reach, the serum, the other soldiers—worse than him, more dangerous. Sam, now standing closer to Steve, muttered under his breath, “This would’ve been a lot easier a week ago.”

Steve sighed heavily, eyes narrowing in thought. “If we call Tony—”

“He won’t believe us,” Sam cut him off, shaking his head.

Steve grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Even if he did—”

Sam finished his thought with brutal honesty. “Who knows if the Accords would let him help?”

Frustration boiled over. Steve slammed his fist into the wall behind him, the dull thud echoing in the basement. “We could try Anna.”

“No,” Bucky’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and immediate.

Steve shot him a questioning look, one eyebrow raised. Bucky didn’t elaborate, just took a deep breath. “We’re on our own.”

Sam stepped forward, determined to help. “I know a guy who owes me one,” he said. And with that, their plan began to take shape.

Hours later, at the airport, Steve’s team gathered, ready to make their move. But just as Steve prepared the helicopter for takeoff, a familiar arc of energy shot through the air, striking the chopper.

Tony Stark descended, removing his mask with a sarcastic smirk. “Wow, it’s so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don’t you think that’s weird?” he asked Rhodey, his voice dripping with irony.

Rhodey played along. “Definitely weird.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward, trying to reason with Tony. “Hear me out, Tony. That doctor, the psychiatrist—he’s behind all of this.”

Before Tony could respond, Black Panther landed beside Steve with a cat-like grace. “Captain,” he greeted with regal authority.

“Your Highness,” Steve acknowledged.

Tony, barely containing his frustration, pressed on. “Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you all in. That was 24 hours ago. Wanna help a brother out?”

Steve stood firm, unyielding. “You’re after the wrong man.”

The tension was thick enough to cut. Then, with a sudden blur of motion, Spider-Man swung in, webbing Steve’s shield from his hand. The fight erupted in full force, teams clashing in a whirlwind of fists, webs, and repulsor blasts.

As chaos unfolded, Steve’s team fought valiantly, but the odds seemed insurmountable. Then, with a burst of energy, Anna descended from the sky, a menacing smile on her face as she landed with calculated grace.

“Am I late?” she asked Tony, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Just in time,” Tony grinned back.

Anna stepped forward, challenging Steve with a teasing smile. “What’d you say there, Steve? You wanna fight me?”

The air was thick with tension, a storm of anticipation brewing as Anna's eyes scanned the battlefield. “Anna, get—” his voice shouted, but she was already ahead, her mind sharp, calculating.

“I see you got new recruits,” she interrupted, her tone casual, yet charged with unspoken power. Her gaze locked on the man in the gas mask costume. “Who’re you?”

He hesitated, taken aback that she was addressing him directly. “Ant-man,” he said, removing his mask, his face a mix of awe and surprise. “Big fan,” he added, almost sheepishly.

Anna gave a curt nod, her eyes shifting to the next figure. “Hey, Clint, back from retirement?” Her voice was steady, a knowing edge to her words.

Clint returned her nod, the weight of unspoken battles hanging between them. “Had to pay a debt,” he replied, his voice carrying the burden of what lay ahead.

Her gaze softened as she spotted another figure. “Ah, Wanda, you doing okay there, sweetheart?” But Wanda didn’t answer, hiding behind Steve’s broad frame like a shadow seeking refuge from the storm. Anna’s eyes gleamed with a challenge. “You think you can take me out now, honey?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement, daring her to try.

Then, Anna’s attention snapped to Sam, standing tall, watching her closely. She raised a brow, her voice dripping with mockery. “Hey, Bird Man.”

Sam smirked, his reply quick. “Hey, magician.”

Finally, her gaze landed on Bucky. The moment lingered, charged with history and tension. “Hey there, sergeant,” she said, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

The silence before the storm broke.

Without another word, Anna surged forward, her team at her back. Steve lunged toward her, but she was faster. She leapt into the fray, a deadly dance unfolding as the battle erupted. She saw that Bucky knew she was her target, that's why he ran. She projected the the carts to stumble in front of him. That made Bucky turn, looked at her. He was taken aback, even with the trigger words, he couldn’t find himself to hurt her. Not again.

Anna threw her guns and knife on the ground. And held her fists up. “Come on, HYDRA boy,” She teased with a menacing smile.

His vibranium arm tensed, ready for the inevitable assault, but his heart wasn’t in it. Across from him, Anna’s eyes glinted with a fierce determination. Her hands crackled with energy, a manifestation of her enhanced abilities, a force powerful enough to send anyone flying across the room. She lunged first, fast and precise. Her fist, cloaked in a shimmering energy field, swung toward him. Bucky dodged, his reflexes sharp as ever, but his movements were defensive. He spun to the side, his expression hard but conflicted. Every time her strike neared, he danced away, avoiding her blows with a grace that came from years of battle. But he never struck back. Anna’s face was set in a deep frown, her brow furrowed as her frustration grew. 

She lashed out with a sweeping kick, energy pulsing through her leg. Bucky blocked it with his vibranium arm, the force of the impact sending a tremor up his arm, but still, he didn’t retaliate. He twisted, sidestepping another barrage of strikes, moving with precision and focus, but never crossing the line into offense. Her next strike came faster, her hand glowing brightly as she drove it toward his chest. Bucky barely avoided the blow, the heat of her energy brushing against his skin. He blocked her next swing, catching her wrist in his hand, but he didn’t tighten his grip. He merely held her at bay. He held her close, their faces merely inches away. Their  chests heaving, sweat glistening on her brow as her glowing fists dimmed. 

She stood before him, panting, eyes wild with frustration and confusion. “Why won’t you fight back?” she asked, her voice breaking through the tension like a fragile plea. She stared at him, demanding an answer, her hands still faintly shimmering with power.

Bucky lowered his gaze, the struggle within him almost too much to bear. He wanted to explain, to tell her everything he couldn’t find the words for. “Because…” he whispered, the words catching in his throat, “I can’t.”

Anna’s chest heaved, her breath ragged as Bucky came into view. Each beat of her heart felt like a war—one side pleading for release, the other clinging to him with fierce desperation. The tension clawed at her insides, but in that split second, her resolve hardened.

“Go,” she whispered, the word barely escaping her lips.

Bucky froze, startled by the quiet command, his eyes wide in disbelief. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hang between them, his hesitation tangible. Then, with a swift nod, he turned and sprinted away, casting a glance over his shoulder, worry etched across his face. He needed to know she was safe. Her focus already shifted to Wanda, her mind connecting to hers, not through force but through understanding. Inside Wanda’s head, she whispered, coaxing, “Stop.”

Wanda faltered, stepping aside to help Clint. Meanwhile, Sam orchestrated a diversion, cleverly working to get Barnes and Steve to the quinjet. Overhead, Vis shredded the roof, collapsing it just as Wanda projected the debris aside, clearing their path. But Rhodes, with brutal precision, struck Wanda with a repulsion sound, sending the debris tumbling dangerously close to Barnes and Steve. Time slowed as Anna dove into the chaos, her power surging as she redirected the falling wreckage, protecting them both.

Barnes and Steve sprinted inside, only to be stopped dead in their tracks by Nat, her fists glowing with a warning. They hesitated, reading the gravity in her expression.

Her hands twisted in calculated motion, power thrumming in the air. “You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Her voice was heavy, knowing the answer before it came.

Steve’s sigh was weary, the weight of impossible choices evident. “You know I can’t.”

Nat sighed, resigned but determined. “You owe me one,” she said, her voice thick with history as she held back Black Panther’s relentless advance.

“Go,” she commanded, her voice sharp, resolute. She unleashed her power again, buying them the time they needed as she turned her focus back on Panther, knowing the battle was far from over.

The clash had been fierce, but brief—over almost as soon as it had begun. The battlefield, once roaring with the sounds of battle, had fallen into an eerie silence. Cap’s team lay defeated, subdued with no hope of escape. In the hospital, Rhodes lay still, paralyzed by the brutal force of the conflict.

High above, standing on the edge of the balcony, Anna and Nat gazed out over the devastated landscape. The wind whispered through the air, carrying with it a sense of finality, as if it knew the weight of what had just transpired.

Anna broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

Natasha glanced at her, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. The unspoken bond between them ran deep, forged in shared trials. “I know,” she replied, her words laced with quiet understanding.

Anna’s gaze shifted toward the horizon, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what had to be said next. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the sorrow she felt. “You need to go,” she whispered, fighting to keep her emotions in check. “T’Challa told Ross what you did.”

The weight of the truth hung between them, unyielding and absolute. Natasha met her gaze, her face impassive but her eyes revealing the quiet acceptance of what she already knew. “I know,” she said softly.

For a fleeting moment, the two women stepped toward one another, their arms wrapping around each other in a brief but fierce embrace. No words could express the depth of what they shared in that moment. And then, as quickly as she had come, Natasha slipped away into the shadows, leaving Anna alone on the balcony, watching as her friend disappeared into the day. 

Tony Stark uncovers evidence that Bucky Barnes was framed by Zemo. His heart heavy, he learns that the rest of the Avengers have been locked away in the Raft, a high-security prison for enhanced individuals. Stark visits the dismayed team, temporarily disabling security to extract crucial information from Sam Wilson about Rogers and Barnes’ whereabouts. Armed with the intel, Stark heads to Siberia, unknowingly followed by Anna.

Zemo sat on the cliff with a phone in his hand, staring at it. He's clearly staring at something until he felt a presence of  someone even though not knowing who it is,

"I almost killed the wrong man..." She stated, Zemo's back facing him as the cold wind gushed. 

"Hardly an innocent one," Zemo replied.

She placed her gun in the holster and stood beside Zemo to listen. "Aren't you happy? This is what you wanted, isn't it? To see an empire fall." 

Zemo looked afar, like he's looking on the other side of the world wishing it was all a dream, while playing with a gun. "My father lives outside the city. I thought we would be safe there. My son was excited, he could see the Iron from the car window. I told my wife, 'Don't worry, they're fighting in the city, we're miles from harm' and the dust cleared and the screaming stopped. It took me two days until I found their bodies... my father still holding my wife and son in his arms, and the avengers? they went home..."

She sat beside him facing the opposite side. She turned to him, "Are you happy now?"

He looked at her confused. What happiness is she talking about? Didn't she hear the story? "What?"

"You got what you wanted... You wanted my dad to kill Steve and Bucky. You have Bucky's trigger words. Two of the most devastating things that could happen..." she started, looking at the door entrance where her dad and her friend are fighting, hoping that they come out arm in arm because they resolved it for her... but no. "But I get it so I'm sorry."

His face softened at what she said. No one ever said that to him ever since his family died. Not even from the government or Avengers. 

"On behalf of the Avengers, I'm sorry... that you lost your family and for what you're going through but don't take them away from me..." her voice shaked. She can't bear it if the two most important people in her life can't stand to be in the same room. "Please dont. I know it's hard to see other families happy but please don't."

Her pleads seemed to open a spot Zemo had closed for a long time. The coldness in his system melted. She was the only person who seemed to get his suffering after the destruction he, now, caused. He was confused and overwhelmed by it. How could she? Who is she? 

"I can read you..." She lightly smiled. "I'm Anna." She stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe one day we'll see each other again and I hope that the wounds we've caused will heal."

She started walking towards the door when she heard his thoughts. 

"Put that gun away. Live your life, Zemo, this is the new you."

Her words tattooed on his mind and were on repeat. He kept hearing it over and over again. Is it worthy to live his life again?

Anna went inside and heard the commotion. She silently flew herself up and saw Bucky with a gun while her dad and Steve were in front of a computer watching the footage where Bucky killed her dad's parents. She couldn't call them grandparents because she didn't know them and Tony never really mentioned them. She could count the times in her hand when he told stories about them. But she knew that, she felt it from Bucky when they fought earlier at the airport. She saw his misery... his pain... maybe that's why she couldn't bring herself to kill him.

Tony turned to Bucky and was about to fight him but Steve pulled him back. "Don't."

"Did you know?" Anger was evident from Tony, even with the suit on they could feel his rage. Anna saw and heard their thoughts. She saw that her dad wasn't very angry that Bucky killed his parents... he was angrier that Steve knew and never told him a thing. Betrayal.

"Yes."

Tony took a step back. His heart shattered from what he heard. He expected it from someone other than him. He thought they built a bond from the past years they've been fighting side to side but friendship is a complicated thing. He punched Rogers 'til he flew to the ground. Bucky pointed his gun at him but Tony was quicker to choke him from behind.

"Do you even remember them?"

"I remember all of them," Bucky answered before Tony steered them to the ground but Steve tackled them causing Bucky to fall to the higher floor and Steve and Tony rolled to the ground.

Anna stood silently and watched before she saw Bucky attempting to fight. She flew to his side and grabbed him back.

"Don't," she muttered. "This is not your fight. You have a bigger plan than this."

Once again, even in the middle of chaos Bucky found her peace. Even if she's on the other side, he found stillness and calmness in her. He looked at her. "Why didn't you kill me?"

She couldn't find an answer. Technically, she can kill him but she chose not to. Maybe because she can sense a strong connection or she can understand what he went through. 

"I'll kill you when I want to kill you."

She raised the side of her lips, giving him assurance that she can never be the bad guy. Unlike him, who killed dozens of people. She heard him groan when he backed away so she pulled him back and healed him before stepping down to rescue his dad. He didn't have the time to say "thanks" but he kept in mind that the next time they see each other, he'll say it. But for now, he had other plans, to save his friend. He saw Steve's shield and jumped down to slam it on Tony's back.

She wasn't surprised. They chose sides to help. And she isn't letting anyone hurt her dad. She joined them on the side and blasted her powers to revert Steve from punching her dad. She played with Steve's mind so her dad could focus on Bucky. Steve was frozen on his spot thinking about what she painted; Peggy, his weakness. Just like superman, we all have our own kryptonites.

But that wasn't until Bucky took a shot at her. Forcing her to wince and stopping her from toying Steve. The man in a star-spangled suit looked at her. "Anna? Why?"

"All is fair in love and war."

Tony realized what happened and blasted Bucky to the wall while Anna healed herself. "And now, you're trying to kill my daughter!?"

"I wasn't killing her!" He screamed while smashing Tony to the wall and tried to rip his arc reactor until it fired strongly at him, using his uni-beam to vaporize his metal arm. Bucky now realized the impact of his actions. He looked at Anna who was shocked and Steve who's running to Tony.

An enraged Steve leaped towards Tony but he overpowered him before battering him relentlessly. Anna stood beside Bucky trying to help him but realized that metals aren't under her control.

"Dad, you have to stop!" She transferred the message to her dad's head. "You can't beat him hand-to-hand."

"I don't care. He killed my mom." He answered again but this time, he emphasized on every word. Tony blocked Steve's shield and shot it before punching him and blasting him in front of Bucky.

"He's my friend," Steve painted. He just wanted to protect his friend because he know that the guy who killed Tony's parents and the guy who saved him from his bullies aren't the same. That's what he wanted Tony to understand but that can't clearly happen.

"So was I."

Tony jabbed Steve and threw him to the grid. "Stay down. Final warning."

Steve struggled to his feet and raised his hands. "I could do this all day."

Tony charged a repulsor blast but was distracted by Bucky, who grabbed his leg, Anna then drifted him to the wall and choked him with her arm. "I told you. This is not your fight."

That disadvantage made Steve grab Tony and hoisted him over his head. Steve violently threw her dad to the ground before taking his shield attempting to bash his chestplate but Anna was quick to smash his shield into the wall. She wasn't gonna let that happen. The two Avenger looked at her while she held Bucky to the wall and drifted Steve to the opposite side of her dad.

"Take your friend and leave, Steve."

She looked at Bucky who's deep into her eyes, trying to scan her emotions so she shared it with him. She let him see what she was thinking and feeling. And what was it? Nothing. She felt empty. A war is not a good time to feel happy or sad or angry. For her, it's a time to feel nothing. 

Steve took Bucky's arm then they walked away leaving her and her dad alone. She kneeled beside him and healed him in silence. She knows no amount of words can comfort him so she comforted him in silence. 

"Thanks, kid." Her dad tried to smile at her.

She smiled back before placing her dad's arm over her and leaving. She knows that she's gonna see the two friends again because she can sense the connection she and Bucky have but for now, she's focused on her dad.

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[ladybellissima]

Finding Love Katakuri x Reader Part 10

"Damn it you little beast!"

Forceful he grabbed (Y/N)'s hair and pushed her to the ground.

"You will pay for biting my hand.", he hissed and smacked her across the face. The pain burnt on her cheeks, while she started to feel lightheaded.

Days? Or just some hours? She lost the track of time, while she fighted over and over again to avoid of being touched by this disgusting man. How long would she be able to endure it. She couldn't sleep, couldn't drink or eat, while her body was on high alert all the time. She knew that they wanted to break her. To loose the will to go on and becoming a puppet. (Y/N) bite her lips hardly to surpress a crying shout of pain.

"I won't give up… Never…", she hissed frustrated.

Pulling her up by her hair and close to his face he licked across her cheek and enjoyed her pitful whimper.

"How sweet… You will obey me and do as I say.", he whispered seductively.

"and we have a little fun.", he added, while hovering over her.

"See it as a training for your future job.", he laughed amused about her struggling. (Y/N)'s hatred against the bandit raise and with all she got she pushed the man away from her and kicked him hard into his manhood. Gasping he fall backwards and she was able to crawl away from him.

"Never will I obey you…."

The bandit was cursing and ready to punch some senses into her, but the clicking sound of the cell door let him stop in his tracks.

"Damn it. I told you to not punch her. How will we get a good price, if she looks like that! Let me see.", the captain shouted angered.

Walking closer to her pitful form on the floor, he gave her an intense look. Disgusted (Y/N) turned away from them and hugged herself shaken.

" even in this condition this maid is quite beautiful… How should we call you? Hmm… What's your name? Maybe I like it and you are allowed to keep it", he asked amused, while his crew member came to his side looking angered.

"She tried to get away with the lie that she is Katakuri's wife. How pathetic.", the bandit laughed.

Her name was the only thing she had left in this cruel world and never would she loose that too. Turning towards the men, she slowly got up.

"Believe it or not. My name is (Y/N) Charlotte. Wife of Katakuri Charlotte." she spoke with as much power in her voice, which she was able to.

Sweat rolled down the captain's forehead. Taking his subordinate by the collar, he dragged him out of the cell and smashed him against the wall outside.

" Have you any prove that her story is a lie?", he asked pissed.

"Come on captain. It's obvious. Katakuri Charlotte? Married?", he tried to joke, but the captain got more and more serious.

"I told you to get rare flour or fruits and maybe money. Things, which could be sold easy and with a high price. Things, which they wouldn't come after the moment we leave their territory. If she is really his wife, we are screwed!! Big mom is known for political marriages. It could be true you idiot. They will inform their outposts and we won't be able to leave. Now that I think of it, she didn't wear a servant uniform either. We have to get rid of her to show we are not the target. Selling her would be too dangerous and difficult.", he shouted furiously.

"Captain you don't know if it's true.", the bandit tried to calm him down, but a sudden shadow, which hovered over them let him shut his mouth quickly. Seeing the frightened face of his crew member, the captain turned around and gasp. Crimson eyes looked down to them dangerously, stabbing them like knifes.

"Where is she?", his voice deep and scaring the shit out of them.

"Ka.. Katakuri… Charlotte…", the captain stuttered and fell down on his knees. Shaken he looked for a way to escape, but knew all too well that no one was able to get away, once he was targeted by him. Nevertheless out of instinct he crawled away from him and stopped in his tracks after seeing his whole crew dead on the floor. A huge trail of blood leaded to Katakuri, who looked like he had bathed in it.

"You monster….how could you find us so quickly… ", he spoke shocked and was grabbed by his neck roughly. Pulling him up to his level Katakuri looked angered into his face.

"One last time. Where. Is. My. Wife."

"He took her. It was one of my crew members. I didn't order it. He took her for his pleasure. I just found out. Please spare my life.", the captain pleaded, while pointing to the other bandit, who quickly rushed inside. Alone saying "for his pleasure" let Katakuri's blood boil.

" Give me 1 minute and you will plead for your death. "

(Y/N) laid on the floor breathing heavily. Her condition was getting worse. Closing her eyes she just wanted to sleep. She couldn't stay awake any longer, but loosing the control or maybe getting unconscious was too risky. A sudden scream let her shiver of fear and she crawled into a corner to hide. God was she tired and exhausted. Her door cell was pushed open and the bandit from before entered terrifyed. Shocked (Y/N) pressed her body against the wall, wishing she could just disappear. Frustrated he searched for her in the darkness and it didn't take him long to stop at her weak form.

"Come here…", he growled, while lifting her up and pressing a knife against her neck. The screams of agony stopped and a unbearable silence surrounded them. (Y/N) didn't understand what was going on. His frightened state let her get terrifyed too. She only knew that he used her to survive, but from what?

The sound of breaking wood echoed through the corridor. Step after step someone was coming closer and let her kidnapper shake of fear. (Y/N) focused on the open cell door and suddenly two crimson eyes appeared in the darkness. Her heart raced and tears rolled down her face. This couldn't be real. Gasping she watched Katakuri enter her prison. For a moment she could see his eyes widen, after locking eyes with her. His aura got dangerous and let the room tremble. The air got thick and unbearable to breath. His power and hate was immense that the bandit fall to his knees and (Y/N) fell to the floor. Weakly she tried to move, but couldn't. Katakuri saw (Y/N)'s bruised body and quickly grabbed the man, who dared to touch her. Screaming and pleading for his life like the others he smashed him against the wall roughly. Coughing up blood, the bandit looked terrifyed into Katakuri's face.

"I am struggling with the way to kill you. For every touch, every pain you will pay…", he spoke coldly and smashed him out of the cell. Turning to his wife, he kneeled down to her shaken body. Eyes closed she hid her face in her hands, while sobbing miserably of relief and pain. She was so happy to see him. At the same time it was also frustrating, confusing and painful. Cursing under his breath he hold back badly not to loose his nerves. He hated himself for not being there. For not protecting her. Reaching out his hand, he slowly and as soft as he could, brushed through her dirty hair with his fingers.

"Give me a moment (Y/N)…", he whispered strained and got up to finish his goal. (Y/N) cried bitterly, while the last bandit of the black bandits screamed in agony and lost his life. Coming back he found his wife still laying on the floor, too weak to get up. Her look was exhausted. She couldn't move and just locked eyes with his pained expression. He really came all the way to get her. She was so relieved and shocked at the same time, that she didn't know what to say. Would he be angry again? Shout at her for being so stupid to get caught? Would her life get back to the desperate one she had before? Living under his cold expression?

Kneeling down beside her, he took off his gloves and slowly brushed her tears away. His touch was soft and warm on her cold skin, which let her body tremble more.

"you came…", her voice sounded rough. His look fell onto her legs, torn clothes, bruised arms and let his body shake of sadness and anger.

"did you think I wouldn't?", he asked hurt, while taking off his leather jacket to put it on her body like a blanket. Surprised of his calm attitude she grabbed the leather fabric for support.

"Yeah sure you would…because of our arrangement…but still I wasn't sure.. ", she sobbed bitterly again, while avoiding his saddened look. God he hated himself to make her feel this way.

"I think you don't want me by your side… I am just a burden. Everything I do makes you angry… " she whispered strained. It was hard to speak about it at that moment, but she didn't know what to do anymore. Everything was so confusing. His calm side, his cold side, this life. Sighing deeply Katakuri took her chin softly to turn her face to his strong look. He thought deeply about what to say. So many things were on his mind, but seeing her exhausted state, he knew that she needed recovery quickly, but one thing he had to say, which he never said with so much emotion.

"(Y/N)… I am so sorry. Please forgive me… "

It was the first time (Y/N) saw this strong and brave man shaken slightly. Taking her hand in his, he closed his eyes, while bowing down before her. It was so hard for him to show emotions, which he was afraid of, but for her he would learn to open up again. He would do anything to not loose her again. His words were full of regret and frustrated feelings, that (Y/N) felt sorry for him. Smiling weakly she lifted her hand to glide it into his scarf.

Never was someone so close.

Frozen in the spot, he let it happen,because it was her. He didn't want to hide anymore. He didn't want to be such an idiot again. Nevertheless he feared to show his face. She sure would be shocked or seeing him different, but he treated her so badly that he would accept to offer her his secret.

Eye for an eye.

Closing his eyes, he focused on the sweet warmth she gave him, than his fear of rejection. Feeling his nervous shiver, she avoided going close to his mouth to not make him uneasy. (Y/N) wouldn't push things. It wasn't her intention to see it anyway. With the time she realized that things have to be worked out slow and she would wait as long as it takes. Pressing her soft hand against his cheek, Katakuri looked up surprised into her smiling face. In her worst nightmare, hurt and broken, she still was able to smile and took his breath away. It felt amazing to feel her soft skin on his cheek. A feeling he never experienced before. He was grateful that she didn't expose his face. Leaning into it, he smiled widely under his scarf. (Y/N) felt her heart flutter to see this expression through his eyes. It eased the pain and gave her hope. Hope that she still could reach out to him and stay by his side.

"Katakuri… Please bring me home…"