#coronal loops

[carlaconnors]

Carla and Lisa + iconic lines

[michaelgabrill]

NASA Solar Observatory Sees Coronal Loops Flicker Before Big Flares

For decades, scientists have tried in vain to accurately predict solar flares — intense bursts of light on the Sun that can send a flurry of charged particles into the solar system. Now, using NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory, one team has identified flickering loops in the solar atmosphere, or corona, that seem to signal when […] from NASA https://ift.tt/yL6xzwI

[heliosunny]

soooo, bc of the phainon trailer can i request phainon going through the loops and having to see his lover die over and over again to the point that he’s obsessed with their safety even when the loop breaks? like i know phainon canonically doesn’t remember the previous cycles but what if he somehow always remembers how his lover dies or if not remember feels this extreme anxiety and dread that they’ll die? details r like whether or not they’re a chrysos heir is up to u! love ur work!!

Coronal Radiance

Yandere!Phainon x Reader

Maybe this time, it’ll be different.

Sometimes the memory brushes against him in dreams. Sometimes it's not even a memory at all, just a weight in his chest.

And then the cycle begins again.

He wakes in a world reset to perfection. You’re just there. An assistant to the tailor, quick with your hands. You’ve always been around.

Phainon sees you for the first time again and the feeling is like déjà vu scraped raw. There's no flash of recognition, only a stillness that stops him in his tracks, like the world is pausing to watch what he’ll do next.

You're smoothing out fabric on a table, unaware that the man you’re working for is watching you like he’s seeing a ghost.

“Phainon! Are the measurements off again?”

He blinks, the question delayed in reaching him. “No. I...”

You wait patiently.

He exhales and forces a smile. “No, it’s fine. Just distracted.”

You nod once and return to your work.

He doesn’t leave. Something about you makes it impossible.

Then the near-misses start happening.

A cart drawn by a Dromas snapping its reins in the central court. You’re walking across the stone path, balancing two bundles of scrolls in your arms. The animal charges. It’s not aiming for you. But something about the angle, it should have crushed you.

Phainon is there before he can think. His hand grabs your wrist, yanks you clear as the cartwheels scream past.

“I’m fine.” you say, brushing your robe down. “I wasn’t even in the way.”

“You were.”

Later that month, Aglaea uncovers a plot, fragments of sabotage from Caenis’ faction. Petty political rivalry, nothing fatal. But when Phainon overhears the details, one name jumps out. Yours.

“You seem to attract this weirdly unlucky aura.” he tells you one day.

You blink up from your notes. “Is that your way of saying I look tired?”

“I mean it” he says, more serious now. “You’re always where something almost goes wrong.”

“That’s just coincidence.”

Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not. But every time he turns away from you now, a part of him stays behind, watching.

He starts walking you back to your quarters after dusk. He rearranges the route of processions so you’re not near open balconies.

You died again. The war hadn’t been kind to anyone, but to you, it had been merciless. You bled out in his arms. He’d called your name until his voice cracked, swearing the stars to stop time, begging fate to undo what it always seemed so eager to repeat. But it didn’t listen.

---

Now here he is again, standing in the garden near the reflecting pools, the morning sun caught in his hair, his thoughts somewhere else entirely.

You call his name twice.

“Phainon?”

He startles. His eyes blink back to the present—to you, standing a few steps away, holding a folded robe meant for the festival ceremony later that day.

There’s something in your expression that softens him. That familiar steadiness. That echo of something he’s always chasing.

“I love you.”

The words fall out of him like water slipping through cupped hands.

“…What?”

“I love you” he repeats, this time quieter, as if realizing he doesn’t quite know why he said it. “I mean—You.. I—I just thought you should know.”

The moment thickens. You open your mouth, not quite sure what to say.

“…Is something the matter?” you ask carefully. “Why now?”

He looks at you, eyes wide like he’s just heard thunder. Then, to your absolute confusion, he turns on his heel and runs straight out of the garden. You’re left there with the robe still in your arms.

You bring it up later. Aglaea nearly chokes on her tea when you mention the confession, which is rare to see. Castorice looks up at you.

“I’m not joking” you say, “He ran off right after. He didn’t even give me time to say anything.”

Aglaea folds her arms. “He likes you. That much is obvious.”

“I thought he didn’t like me, half the time.” you admit with a small laugh.

Aglaea eyes you over the rim of her cup. “He’s been strange lately.”

“It’s not a bad thing.” Castorice says gently. “Maybe it’s something he’s only just realizing. And even if it’s not fully clear to him yet… does it bother you?”

You hesitate.

Aglaea leans in. “You don’t have to decide right away. But you should think about it.”

You nod slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the memory of him.

You found him among the stalls at Marmoreal market, half-hidden behind a vendor cart stacked with dyed silks. He looked startled when you waved.

“Ah… hi.”

You smiled, still thinking of his confession, unsure what to make of it. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“No, no—it’s fine. I was just… distracted.” His voice gentled, and he looked genuinely apologetic. “About the other day—I was rushed. It wasn’t fair to spring it on you like that.”

“You said what you felt. I don’t mind.”

He seemed relieved, the tension in his shoulders loosening. After that, you walked together without much fanfare, weaving through the market’s afternoon bustle. He helped you carry bundles—paper, thread, fruit wrapped in leaves—back toward your place.

When you reached your door, something tugged at your memory.

“Oh, wait here,” you told him, setting your bag down. “I made something for you a while ago.”

“You… did?”

You disappeared inside for a moment, then came back holding a small charm: a braided cord with tiny silver disks and a polished stone, shaped like a crescent.

You held it out. “For luck. You always seem like you’re bracing for something awful.”

He took it slowly, as if it might vanish from his hands.

The moment his fingers closed around it, something inside him cracked. The charm was unfamiliar, and yet...

“This is…”

You tilted your head. “Too much?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly. “It’s… It’s perfect. Thank you.”

That night, sleep didn't come easily for him. When it finally did, it dragged him into a void he couldn’t name. Your voice, calling him from somewhere he couldn’t reach. When he woke, he didn’t remember what he saw, only that his heart wouldn’t stop racing.

The next morning, he was summoned by Aglaea at first light.

The moment he stepped in and saw her face, he knew.

“There was an incident. They found Y/N .. killed.”

He just stood there, still holding the charm you’d given him the night before.

No one had seen the attacker.

When war came, he welcomed it. It was something to bleed into.

Aglaea died. Castorice too. The sky cracked open.

The cycle reset. He stood in a familiar place. And there you were.

Light streamed through the high windows of the fitting chamber, dust dancing through the beams.

You stood on a low platform behind Phainon, arms stretched just slightly as you tried to wrap the measuring cord across his shoulders.

“Hold still.” you murmured, tiptoeing just a little.

Aglaea had given you specific instructions this time. So you followed, noting down the numbers, marking fabric samples. And every now and then, you glanced at him.

His eyes followed you. His breathing shifted when you came too close.

You reached up again, this time to measure the length from his collarbone down to the hem.

“I’ll protect you.”

You looked up at him. “You always protect people.”

He shook his head slowly. “It’s not the same.”

“Phainon-”

“I know I’m strange lately,” he said, “I don’t know why. But when I look at you, I feel like I’ve already failed you once.”

“So from now on… I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do.”

A part of you wanted to brush the strange act off, but something told you not to.

“…All right. Do as you wish.”

But Phainon couldn’t always be there.

As the Chrysos Heir, he bore the lives of many people.

You are a normal person while he has this responsibility of facing great danger.

But still, you anchored him.

You were never far from his thoughts. You were in the letters he never sent. In the lucky charm he kept beneath his robes. In the soft memory of someone whose voice helped him remember he wasn’t just a weapon.

And then, it ended. In victory.

No more do-overs.

He came back in the early morning. He passed the market, the streets that had once echoed with chaos, now filled with survivors trying to piece their world back together.

Then he saw you.

You were kneeling by a collapsed pillar, offering a drink of water to a wounded child, dust smudged across your cheek, your sleeves rolled up as you helped the others clear rubble.

To him, you were everything.

For one brief moment, he waited for you to vanish.

You didn’t.

You looked up, confused by the sudden sound of feet pounding over stone and barely had time to register him before he was there, wrapping his arms around you.

“What—?”

He didn’t answer. Just held you tighter.

“You’re back” you murmured, one hand slowly rising to rest against his shoulder. “You really did it.”

“You’re still here.”

Even after the loop was broken, the nightmares never stopped.

Every night, Phainon saw you die again.

He’d wake with his heart in his throat, drenched in sweat, breath ragged like he was still mid-battle.

By day, he tried to act as if the peace had settled into him. He came to see you often, sometimes with the excuse of errands, sometimes for tea that neither of you remembered to drink.

But mostly, he just came to be near you.

He didn’t want to burden you with the weight of those dreams, or the guilt he couldn't explain. But one evening, he looked at you and said:

“I don’t think I’ve told you this properly….”

“Told me what?”

“That I love you,” he said. “And I want to be with you.”

You’d known, in various ways. In the way he lingered at your door. In the way his fingers sometimes trembled when you touched his sleeve.

“I know. And… I love you too.”

From that day on, you were together. You shared your days. You reminded him to eat. He walked you home.

But peace didn’t come easily to him.

That night, the dream came again.

You, reaching for him. The shadow behind you. A blade glinting in the dark.

He woke gasping.

He ran out, down the stone corridors, through alleys still carrying the scent of rain, all the way to your door.

He knocked. Loud enough to stir you.

You opened the door with sleep still on your face. “Phainon…?”

He stepped in and took you by the arms, searching every corner of the room. “You’re in danger. He was behind you—”

“There’s no one here..” you yawned. “Look.”

He did. There was no shadow but his own.

You placed your hand on his cheek. “See? I'm fine.”

His breath slowed beneath your touch.

“You can stay.” you said, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. “You look terrible, you know that.”

You pulled a blanket around his shoulders and watched as the tension slowly left him. He laid down, eyes still locked on you, as if making sure you wouldn’t vanish the moment he blinked.

You curled beside him.

And this time, he slept.

He stirred before the sun rose, the blankets bunched around him in restless folds. When he opened his eyes, his first thought wasn’t relief.

It was guilt.

He sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Then he looked at you, still sleeping, your arm draped loosely beside him.

He’d made you worry again.

When you woke, you found him already up.

“You look better.”

He nodded once.

“…Are you leaving?”

“Well, I thought I should let you rest. You need space too, right?”

Right?

-----

Later, at his place, he washed his face, trying to soothe the burn behind his eyes. The mirror in front of him clouded slightly with steam. A flicker. A second face behind his.

“You’re letting Y/N go.” his own voice, “Do you really think they’ll be safe out there?”

He spun around.

No one.

Just the small chamber, the open window, the bowl of half-wet herbs still on the counter.

His hands were shaking. He gripped the edge of the basin to steady himself. “It’s not real...” he murmured to himself. “It’s not real.”

But the question echoed anyway. What if it was right?

Days passed.

You didn’t hear from him.

It wasn’t like him to disappear. Phainon had always been bright, even at his most exhausted, he’d never gone silent.

Worried, you returned to his place.

You knocked. No answer.

“Phainon?”

You pressed the door open, and the moment you did, your heart sank.

The place was dim, incense left half-burned. You found him collapsed near the far wall, slumped beside shattered ceramic. There was blood on his arm. His hands were trembling as he tried to press a cloth to the wound.

You rushed over, kneeling beside him. “Phainon!—”

His eyes fluttered open, hazy with pain and half-delirium. “…Y/N?”

“I’m here” you said, taking the cloth from him and pressing it tight to stop the bleeding. “What happened? Did something attack you?”

He shook his head. “No. I wasn’t careful.”

He didn’t resist as you worked, wrapping the wound, inspecting for glass or deeper damage. He winced but never pulled away.

You finished binding his arm. When you looked up, he was watching you.

“I saw something,” he said hoarsely. “In the mirror.”

You waited.

“It said… you’d die if I let you out of my sight.”

Gently, you reached out and held his face in your hands.

“That's nonsense. I'm still alive.” you said

His eyes filled, not with tears, but with exhaustion. With that silent ache that comes after too many days of holding everything in.

He leaned forward, head resting against your shoulder.

“I don’t know how to stop it...”

You didn’t have the answer. But you held him tighter.

You had done everything right. You stayed. You treated his wounds. You reminded him to eat and sleep, and he did.

He’d leaned into your care like someone who had forgotten how to rest. His fever had faded, the color returned to his face.

The first time you stood to leave, just to fetch something from the next room, his voice stopped you cold.

“Where are you going?”

You turned. “Just to the front hall. I left my bag there.”

He was already rising from his seat. “Don’t.”

“Phainon, I’ll just be a moment—”

“No,” he said, more firmly this time. “Stay.”

It wasn’t anger in his voice. It was fear.

You humored him at first. You stayed.

But it didn’t stop there.

At night, he began locking the door from the inside after you fell asleep.

You noticed first when you tried to step out for water and the handle wouldn’t turn. The second night, it was the same. The third, you didn’t even try.

You noticed it first with the cup.

You always left it on the counter by the sink, handle turned to the left. That morning, the handle faced the right.

And the charm. The little silver talisman you’d given Phainon months ago, the one he used to keep in his bedside drawer, now hung from a cord around his neck. Even when he slept.

You waited until breakfast to say anything.

"Did you move things around?" you said.

He paused. His eyes met yours, then dropped to his hands.

"I needed to know where everything was." he said. "Just… in case."

"I think I should stay at my own place for a few days."

"No." he said.

You stood anyway. "Phainon, this isn’t—"

His hand caught your wrist to stop you.

"You can’t leave! If you go, something bad happens. It always does."

His grip didn’t tighten. But you didn’t pull away.

For a long moment, the only sound was the clock on the wall, ticking.

“Please let go,” you said softly. “You’re hurting me.”

His grip loosened, but instead of stepping back, he reached for you again, both arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed his forehead against your chest.

“Please don’t go.”

Your hands hovered in the air.

“Please don’t go. Please. Please don’t go.”

He repeated it over and over, voice smaller with each repetition, curling further into you like you were the last thing holding him.

You stood there, frozen in the moment, your tears falling quietly into his hair as his clung to you. You wanted to run. But more than that, you wanted to help him come back.

Phainon was different during the day.

He stuck to you like a second shadow—always within reach. A hand on your waist when you turned, fingers brushing your cheek before you could speak. He kissed you softly, suddenly, like he needed the reminder that you were still there.

“Good morning” he murmured, his lips already stayed at your temple.

You hadn’t even finished yawning yet.

When you tried to sit alone, he’d quietly lay his head in your lap. When you stood, he rose too, never letting more than a few steps separate you.

At first, it was sweet.

Until it became exhausting.

You never had a moment to yourself.

When you asked for space, he just smiled and changed the subject.

“Can you help me with this?” “Remember when we...?” “Let’s rest for a while.”

You started to realize he knew what you were thinking.

He kept you busy.

He always noticed when you looked toward the door.

One night, as you tended to his wounds, you hesitated. "Maybe Castorice or Mydei could—"

He went very still.

"If you call them," he said quietly, "I’ll kill them."

Your heart stilled.

He just stared at you, dead calm.

You stepped back.

And then, his face crumpled. “No—no, I didn’t mean that” he whispered, voice cracking as he reached for you again, “I didn’t—I don’t want to hurt anyone, I swear—Please don’t look at me like that.”

The fear was too thick in your throat.

So he kissed your hands, your forehead, pulled you close like he was drowning.

“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t leave.”

Later, you pretended to sleep. You heard the rustling.

When you cracked your eyes open, he was unwrapping the bandage on his arm—the wound barely healed. A jagged shard of glass glinted in his fingers.

You sat up in a rush. “What are you doing?”

“You weren’t looking at me.”

You rushed to him, grabbing his wrist before he could press it to his skin. “Stop—stop!”

“It’s the only way I’ll know you care.”

“I do care” you said. “But this isn’t... Phainon, just calm down.”

He cupped your cheek with his other hand. “You're all I have left.”

Someone had come to the door, grateful for Phainon’s help, bearing a gift. But in the dim light, with his mind already fraying, he didn’t see a friend.

He saw a threat.

By the time you heard the noise, it was already over.

You found him in the washroom, scrubbing red from his hands. The water ran pink.

Phainon saw it, the reflection in the mirror.

"You did the right thing." 

Phainon nodded.

You saw the blood on his sleeve.

"You hurt yourself again?"

He turned to you. "It’s fine... Everything’s fine."

He believed it.

And when he took your hand later, leading you back to bed, his grip was steady.

He was doing the right thing.

He had to be.

[cryptotheism]

I love when modern horror movies do this.

I was watching The Autopsy of Jane Doe. Let's play a game. If a coroner approached me with this symbol, what would I tell him?

Two big flags: That's a woven textile, and those are Roman letters. Most surviving Roman spells were written on stone or metal stele. Roman characters on papyrus practically screams North Africa, 1st-4th century AD.

Given, there is no textile on earth that could survive the stomach acid like this, so I'm assuming something supernatural is happening.

So north Africa, 1-4th century AD. That specific type of circle is clearly remineacent of Solomoic magic. The thing is. Solomonic seals were usually produced in an Egyptian milieu. Authentic North african magical characters usually have little loops on the end, because they're trying to imitate the ankh. Or they look noticably Greek.

Whats interesting to me, is that the symbol inside the circle is more Greek-Pythagorean than Egyptian. It's got that square capped with triangles. That's a neoplatonist sacred geometry thing.

Also, I have the movie paused, but I would bet money those numerals on the edges are supposed to correspond to bible verses. I would bet money one of them is supposed to be EX 22:18.

Which, if that's true, would mean that this isn't 1-4th century, but more like a pre-golden-dawn reprint from the 1850s.

Official prediction: This bitch is supposed to be an 1850s American frontier witch. The prop designers get extra points if they want me to think she was part of the Salem witch trials, or some other sensational event like that.

[jmflowers]

Swarla Kisses Rated [x]

1. "Don't get dressed." (22nd November 2024)

The loud noise that occurred at the moment this kiss aired was the sound of an entire population's proverbial panties dropping. Has there ever been a hotter line spoken? This is the power-necking the soap community taught us about. Swarla started off SO strong it's frankly terrifying. 14/10 Carla knew what she wanted.

2. "Have you?" (29th November 2024)

When the most confident dyke on the cobbles asks you if you've changed your mind about your feelings for her, you are required by law to stubbornly keep your hand on your hip. Even if she pushes your hair back from your face as delicately as humanly possible??? If Lisa Swain ever looked at me like that I would burst into flames. 11/10

3. "Is that better?" (16th December 2024)

We reached the domesticity era of their love in 0.2 seconds flat and I for one am not upset about it. The way Carla nuzzles in? The tilt of Lisa's head? The repetition? I was not expecting more kisses so soon in their story. The only way this could've gotten better is if they'd eaten each other's faces after this had been a clearer angle. 7/10 Carla Connor saying, “I want you.” plays on loop in my head at all times.

4. "Mmm... truffley." (20th December 2024)

The prolonged eye contact???? The dazed look on Lisa's face immediately after?? The fucking giggles???? The sheer power Carla Connor has and wields for good (ie. my own entertainment). Coronation Street said y'all deserve this. 10/10 Carla can hand feed me any day of the week.

5. "See you later." (20th December 2024)

Have you ever seen anyone look so peaceful about a decision before? Carla Connor said, "Today's the day I kiss my girlfriend in the street." I know y'all were waiting for that Live Sally Reaction and it did not disappoint. I hope they kiss each other goodbye constantly forever. 6/10 The way she analyzed Lisa's entire face before leaning forward made me scream both internally and externally.

6. New Year's Countdown (31st December 2024)

If you thought I wouldn't lose my mind over the image of them off in a corner of the pub in their own little world, you were wrong. I need to know if this was a scripting choice, an acting choice, or an editing choice for reasons. I'm never going to get sick of the way Lisa pulls Carla closer by the shoulders (almost) every time they kiss. Lisa closing her eyes like that makes my heart stop beating. 8/10

7. "Ooh, your lip!" (31st December 2024)

You ever just get aggressively snogged by a woman who's falling in love with you (while your lip is busted open from fighting bad guys)? Superheroes really don't get days off but they do get the girl. I miss the power-necking (literally a month ago?!?), but this was still so cute. 9/10 for the sheer fact that Carla needed a New Year's like this considering she dies like 12 hours later.

8. "Won't take that long." (31st December 2024)

Carla Connor isn't the only one who nearly fainted shortly after this kiss. Lisa said let me flutter my drunk eyelashes at you. The way Carla opened her mouth?? The breathy, "Shall we go to bed?" from Lisa??? The fucking forehead lean???? I am too goddamn gay for this to be on my screen. How did we get a month into this relationship and already reach 8 kiss scenes? 10/10 thanks Coronation Street for the gay rights.

9. "Please don't leave me here." (1st January 2025)

The fact that Lisa could walk away from Carla in this moment is frankly mind-blowing; her face is the same colour as Betsy's shirt. Lisa, woman, OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES. Someone said Carla looks like she died 3 hours ago and they're not wrong. 3/10 because I'm a sucker for the domestic nature of this but also I want to punch everyone in the face for not protecting our sick baby. Gold star for the Corrie makeup department and their highlighter collection.

10. "Are we okay?" (8th January 2025)

Lisa Swain's affectionate eye roll immediately after Bobby interrupted them is like 1/1000th of how we all really felt. She lingered on this kiss for so long. The hand coming up to cup Carla's head? The forehead lean again? Carla's little smile when she realized what was about to happen? Give these ladies a room that isn't in hospital or full of their children. 9/10 we're watching f/f hurt/comfort fanfiction live on ITV.

11. Comforting Hand (9th January 2025)

We're deep in the trenches of this hurt/comfort storyline now, kids. I hope Lisa plans on sitting vigil at Carla's bedside for the rest of their damn lives (yes I'm wearing my clown makeup while I watch this soap). 4/10 because my self-deprecating baby pulled away from the love and support she deserves.

12. Good Luck (13th January 2025)

As far as kisses go, this barely passes the test, but THEY ARE FAMILY. Carla, proper bricking it. Betsy, also bricking it. Good thing Lisa Swain swooped in to wish her wife girlfriend good luck with the most vanilla cheek peck known to man. Someone get them a room and a dialysis machine whirring to drown out all their kids, stat! 5/10 cause I respect the domesticity.

13. "We'll make it happen either way." (17th January 2025)

At the precise moment that Carla Connor's head settled in against Lisa Swain's shoulder and her eyes closed and she smiled that little smile while Lisa declared them a 'we', my heart officially stopped beating and I passed away. Rating this soft head kiss an 8/10 from the grave because (whatever entity you believe is on the other side) agreed with me: that's the Connor-Swain family!

14. "I'm not scared. I'm not." (20th January 2025)

Carla Connor is absolutely not scared. And she absolutely did not inch forward slightly so that Lisa could be the one to decide to hold her and make her feel safe. Absolutely none of that happened. I'm going to forever be soft about all these forehead kisses and collapsing-into-each-other hugs. Rating this a 9/10 for the utter loving, vulnerability of it all. Now, go make sweet love about it!

15. "Ugh, in my dreams." (5th February 2025)

DOMESTICITY ERA IS A GO. They greet each other with kisses, y'all. We're really in it now... we've made it! Coronation Street said have all the vanilla lip pecks you desire, cause they live together. 7/10 Because all I'm really thinking about is them staying up all night in the glow of the dialysis machine making sweet love.

16. "...the best possible future I could imagine." (5th February 2025)

Lisa Swain: Certified Softy said I'm gonna stick by you so hard, Carla Connor. Through sickness and in lunch break. I'm obsessed with how committed she gets to these hand and forehead kisses; how long she hovers on the moment, making eye contact, making sure Carla knows what she means. 8/10 This is what love looks like.

17. "Just introducing myself." (10th February 2025)

Listen, I know y'all went feral for this show of dominance kiss (and it was really such a dyke power move), but this had literally nothing to do with Carla and everything to do with Lisa and Rob's dick-measuring contest. Carla didn't even close her eyes. Do we know if she consents to public displays of affection in front of her estranged, murdering little brother and his prison guard? Grab your pitchforks cause I'm giving this a 2/10

18. "...I want him fit enough for the transplant." (10th February 2025)

Lisa really said, "I know who your brother is now, but I'm still soft for you," and we respect her for that. Even if Carla in this moment thinks she literally doesn't care. Can you hear the cogs turning in her head, Carla? Let a woman scheme. Rating this a 5/10 cause she's got a Carla-shaped space in her arms and I'm mush about it even when they're too focused on kidney transplants to kiss sloppy-style.

19. "Oh, I love you. Thank you." (12th February 2025)

A barely audible "I love you"?!?!?! I nearly didn't believe it myself. But if anything warrants such a declaration, it's Lisa running Carla a bath. This whole scene was so domestic and life-partner-coded that I could implode just thinking about it. 7/10 cause there's hands and whispering and that's like gay kryptonite.

20. "You're gonna be here when I get back..." (14th February 2025)

The arm grab. The reciprocal I love yous. The fact that they're STARING INTO EACH OTHER'S EYES AS THEY KISS. Listen, I am a weak woman and this kiss nearly took me out. Not that unlike how Mandy took Carla out of the hospital like 24 hours later. 8/10 cause I'm about ready to propose on their behalves.

21. "You tryna get away without a little kissy?" (12th March 2025)

Carla Connor certified fucking loser when it comes to Lisa Swain. Honestly, she could've said anything and that's really what she chose. But then she yanked Lisa to her by the neck and hummed through the entire thing and I very momentarily stopped dreaming about the day they'll kiss like it's November 2024 again. 8/10

22. "We can't keep around Betsy 24/7, lovey, can we?" (17 March 2025)

The pat on Lisa’s head moments before this kiss occurs will live rent-free in my mind for all eternity. Carla Connor said, “down, girl.” I’m just over here thinking about the weeks of Lisa comforting Carla with head and hand kisses and how Carla is now returning the favour. It’s about balance, folks. 7/10 for the sheer number of places they’re physically connected in this scene.

23. "Well, that's your department, missus." (17 March 2025)

Lisa Swain popped like a damn balloon with one touch from Carla Connor. You know when you’re cuddling with someone you love and you’re suddenly so exhausted because you’re so at peace? That’s this moment to me - even if Lisa’s brain is still positively swirling with stress and Carla’s is run rampant with guilt. They’re safe together and that makes this kiss pure. 6/10 for the way Lisa’s eyes close and her little smile appears.

24. "I shot my own daughter." (26 March 2025)

Thank goodness for this camera and this lens, but fuck this angle. How am I supposed to dissect kisses for ratings when I can’t even see them, Corrie?!?!? Carla’s first response to Lisa’s confession being to pull her closer makes me feel so many things all at once. They really said they’re a team, y’all. 3/10 cause I’m not heartless, I just want some words with the director and DP and editor of this episode.

25. "Tantrums and hormonal breakdowns?" (28 March 2025)

It’s so gay of them to have lasted all of 12 hours in a fight before they were collapsing into each others’ arms, crying and professing their love. I’d like the look of relief and exhaustion and peace on Lisa’s face in this moment tattooed on the inside of my eyelids so I can look at it while I try to sleep. 7/10 cause I need all of their scenes shot Big Brother style for my sanity.

26. "...we can get through anything." (28 March 2025)

There’s a vine somewhere that makes the exact squeeeeing noise that’s been playing on loop in my head since the moment this kiss aired. The fucking sound of them kissing! The eyelashes, the tears, the l o o k i n g. The SNIFFLE. 9/10 I never expect to be as gay as I am about them, and then moments like this occur and a god damn pride flag pops out of my mouth.

27. "Come 'ere." (28 March 2025)

Thank GOD Alison King is a soap queen who knows how to work those camera angles for her own coverage. I’m sick with the Sappho from the way Lisa looks up at Carla as she is pulled into this kiss/hug combo. They’re so everything I could literally die. Bury me beneath the cobbles, Corrie; I’m here until the end of this couple. 8/10

[zhelin-thames]

The Realms React To: Batfam Babysitters vs Magical Toddler Playdate (with Klarion)

(featuring De-aged Danny, Klarion the Witch Boy, and the slowly unraveling sanity of the Batfamily)

Bruce: I’m assigning shifts. Danny cannot be left alone with Klarion.

Tim: Too late. Klarion showed up ten minutes ago and they’re currently drawing runes on the kitchen tiles.

Bruce: …I TOLD you to lock the magic wards.

Steph: That was before Klarion turned the lock into a gummy worm and declared Danny his “chaos prince.”

Damian: I tried to stab him.

Cass: nods solemnly She helped.

Jason: Klarion just threatened to turn me into a cactus and Danny cheered.

Danny (2 y/o): holding up a juice box like a holy relic “Dewey say WESPECT NAP TIME!!”

Klarion: offended “NAP TIME IS OPPRESSION.”

Duke: They’re floating now. They’re both FLOATING. The ceiling fan is spinning backwards.

Babs (on comms): What the hell is a "chaos pact” and why did Danny sign it with applesauce?!

Dick: I tried reasoning with them. Danny licked my face and Klarion hexed my shoelaces to scream.

Alfred: Master Bruce, the sugar gremlins have united. There is chanting in the walls.

Danny (giggling): “Kwarion says the bathtub is the new THRONE.”

Klarion: “Let the coronation begin. We will fill it with Jell-O and frogs.”

Jason: I don’t even know if I should stop them or take notes.

Damian: This is a war crime.

Cass: points at the glowing frogs War crimes with style.

Steph: Wait. Where’s the dog?

Klarion: cackling Teekl is currently babysitting Batcow. Don’t worry. She’s very responsible.

Bruce: We don’t have Batcow anymore.

Danny: cheerfully “Moo moo went boom boom in the void!”

Duke: I am not emotionally equipped for this level of supernatural babysitting.

Babs (overwatch): Alright, I just caught Klarion opening a dimensional rift with a juice box straw.

Tim: Danny traded his left sock for a spell scroll.

Jason: sobbing laughter HE CAN’T EVEN READ.

Cass: Klarion reads for him. They have story time now.

Dick: Okay but listen—Klarion is doing the voices and Danny keeps demanding “more violence.”

Steph: They started a sock cult. I just saw four plushies in cloaks.

Bruce: gritting teeth Who authorized this?!

Alfred (calmly): Master Danny looked at me with those enormous green eyes and asked if we could make the house "Halloween forever." I, naturally, agreed.

Danny (crowned in fruit loops): “By decree of me, Prince of Spookville, we shall not nap until the moon sings!”

Klarion: bowing deeply “LONG MAY HE REIGN.”

Damian: If I disappear into the walls, do not find me.

Tim: If I disappear into the walls, please rescue me.

Duke: I looked into the bathtub throne and saw my future.

Jason: I saw my past.

Babs: Klarion just summoned a demon shaped like a bouncy castle.

Danny (excited): “BOUNCEY BOI!!!”

Dick: There are spikes on it.

Steph: Yeah, but they’re adorable. Like…baby safe spikes.

Bruce: WHAT THE HELL IS A BABY-SAFE SPIKE?!

Alfred (returning with cookies): Tea is ready, and I have diplomatically negotiated peace using oatmeal raisin offerings.

Bruce: Where is Danny now?

Alfred: Attempting to hex the microwave with a juice box.

Bruce: I am going to cry.

Danny: from the kitchen “MACHINE NO GO BEEP NO MORE.”

Klarion (gleeful): “AND THUS, TECHNOLOGY KNEELS!”

The Realms (watching):

Clockwork: Fascinating. This is better than cable.

Fright Knight: They’re going to blow up the bathtub.

Ember: I like these Batkids. They’re so loud.

Walker: That baby just ate a sigil.

Ancients: We bless this union of chaos. Let the mortal world burn—in friendship and bubbles.

Conclusion:

Danny is now wearing a cape made of sticky notes and peanut butter, Klarion is teaching him how to levitate juice boxes with his mind, and the Batfamily has collectively decided to let Alfred handle it.

He is now King. Again. Of the bathtub.

Danny (beaming): “I RULE THE TILES.”

Klarion (swooping dramatically): “AND I, YOUR LOYAL COURT JESTER!”

Jason: I have never felt more like the normal one.

Danny (proudly): “This was best playdate ever.”

All of Gotham: shuddering in the aftermath

Klarion: Next week—WE CONQUER DAYCARE.

Bruce: faints

[cha0s-j3st0r]

"I neither deserve forgiveness...Nor his mercy and his kindness..."

Inspirations and notes under the cut!

HOLY CUNGADERO WAS THIS A LOT OF WORK

But it was so worth it!!

This was a present for @kitty-strings for our 3 month anniversary (ILYSM KITTY, YOU'LL ALWAYS BE THE MAGOLOR TO MY MARX <<333)

My main inspiration was this scene from Juno Song's cover of Supreme Overlord's Coronation

I've been listening to all of his Magolor covers on loop since I started drawing this, I can't express how much I love these covers!!

Anyways, here's the individual frames + the sketch!!

[revelboo]

Waitng patiently for a new insecticons story (i love them so much, thanks to you. Please dont die)

I will try my hardest not to 🤣 I’m just on the struggle bus today

You (Don’t) Know Me Pt 7

Insecticons x Reader

• Wary as they watch you, it’s like they’re waiting on something. They’ve called you their queen more than once. Mentioned a coronation, though the details get a bit hazy, lost in the heated ache of need when they’d kissed you, when that one had gone down on you. Body flushing at that memory as you wiggle out from between Kickback and Shrapnel, pulling one of the blankets you’re sitting on up over your lap so everything isn’t just on display. “What if I don’t want to be your queen?” You ask slowly and the other two both look at Bombshell, tensing. Big guy is definitely the one in charge. “Hypothetically,” you add as his head tips.

• “Hypothetically, you’re of little value except as food if you’re not our queen,” Bombshell growls, long glossa curling around a servo to clean it. Aware of the way you watch him, grinning crookedly as his battle mask clicks back together. It’s a threat plain and simple, a hollow one. Those two idiots have at least partially bonded you. Forcing his hand. And after having you, he can’t really deny that he’s decided he wants to keep you, too. Had imagined a fierce queen, but maybe a soft queen that looks to him for protection wouldn’t be so bad. Someone who needs him. Who won’t curtail his plans.

• “This hive is only temporary,” Kickback says into the silence when you lean further away from all of them. “Not fit for a queen.” Antenna back, he leans over to lay his head in your lap, pretending he doesn’t notice when you tense. “We’ll do better. Bigger, more fitting for you.” Room for young, room to expand. Freezing when you hesitantly lift a hand and touch his antenna. Gently. So gently ghosting your fingers against him. Has anyone touched him like that before?

• Heck of a choice. Play queen of the scary, bug robots or be dinner. The big one had asked you to make demands. Seemed to expect it, like maybe you’re supposed to take charge. Play queen. Mouth dry as you toy with Kickback’s antenna to make him shiver and chirp against you, you can’t break Bombshell’s stare. The challenge in it. “This place is drafty. Dirty. Not a proper hive,” you manage, rolling with it and all three of them go still. Listening. “And I’m not eating that.”

• Struggling to suppress his laughter as Bombshell goes rigid in offense at your scorn, Shrapnel clears his vents noisily. Can’t help but grin, though. “Organics eat flesh,” Bombshell growls, sweeping his hand at the deer. And Shrapnel’s starving, but won’t touch it until you eat. ‘Not raw,’ you counter, little chin lifting. ‘Cook it.’ And he is laughing now, not even caring how angry Bombshell is, because this is too delicious. You’re figuring out your place. Taking charge like you’re meant to.

• Heart racing as Bombshell looms over you, there’s fear that maybe you pushed him too hard. That you pissed him off and he’s going to lash out. Instead he just stares down at you, seizes Shrapnel by one of the beetle-like horns jutting up from his shoulders and yanks him up as he hisses. Ordering him to dig a fire pit. And you shouldn’t get a little thrill out of being obeyed by them. You should be plotting your escape, not idly playing with Kickback’s antenna. Freezing when he loops his arms around you and presses his face against your stomach, venting.

Previous

Next

[swizzlemynizzle]

Underneath the Noise

—————————————————————————

Masterlist

Chapter 6: Post-Party Panic

—————————————————————————

The morning sun slices through Y/N’s window like a passive-aggressive reminder of her life choices. Her head is surprisingly okay. Her feet, not so much. The muddy size elevens are still by the door—silent, damning—and her own shoes are God knows where. Possibly in the Thames. The memories of last night blurred at the edges, not quite comprehensable this early in the morning.

Her new flat is still half-unpacked. Boxes lean against the walls, a heap of wires sprawled across the floor like a tech-themed crime scene. But she’s buzzing. Giddy, even.

Her cold feet sting on the kitchen tile as she makes a coffee, an attempt to rejoin Earth after a wild night. As the bitter liquid coats her tongue, the memories feel a little clearer.

Last night keeps looping in her head like a glitchy highlight reel: tambourine guy, fountain dipping, George’s stupid smirk when she called him a hobbit by mistake. The way he’d looked at her—really looked at her—like he saw through the performance and wasn’t put off by what was underneath.

And yet, beneath the buzz, something sharp simmers in her stomach.

Chris’s video.

She’s not in control of how people will see her—how they’ll edit her, meme her, decide who she is based on five minutes of drunken footage and one out-of-context laugh. She’s been on the internet long enough to know how fast strangers form opinions.

She’s done nothing wrong. But still. Anxiety doesn’t care about logic.

She shoves it aside and refocuses on her streaming setup. At least this part she can control. Two monitors up, ring light plugged in, mic adjusted. Her little digital kingdom—home.

Her phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a message from Chris.

Chris:

btw—thanks again for being in the vid yesterday. you were class. don’t let the internet be weird. if anyone gives you grief I’ll just post an unflattering picture of George and redirect the drama.

She snorts. Then reads it again. She hadn’t even realised how much she needed that.

She and Chris had only met a few times before yesterday’s video, yet he welcomed her like a long time friend.

Another notification follows almost instantly—this time from WhatsApp.

New group chat created: CHAOS GOBLINS

Members: Chris, Bach, Arthur Hill, ArthurTV, George, Y/N

Chris:

everyone give a round of applause to Y/N for not bailing when we made her wade into a public fountain

Bach:

absolute trooper. also possibly immortal?

Arthur Hill:

I still haven’t thawed out. if i die tell the coroner it was for content

ArthurTV:

100% worth it. someone check on Pickle the ferret tho

George:

still think Y/N peaked at “clown shoes and Hot Bitch Ready To Party shirt” tbh

Y/N:

sorry that I’m setting fashion trends you all can’t keep up with

Chris:

love you guys

Her grin creeps up before she can stop it. Despite the cold floors and the lingering worry, the thread of connection weaving through her screen is warm. Real.

Her Discord pings next.

georgeclarkey:

you up for streaming today or are you still emotionally recovering from trench foot?

She blinks.

Then grins wider.

y/n:

depends. are you going to insult my shoe choices again or play COD like a civilised human being?

georgeclarkey:

no promises. get in the vc.

She joins the call and is immediately met with George’s voice, clear and low and just a bit smug.

“There she is. The woman who turned the fountain into her personal Olympic trial.”

“Jealous I outpaced you in the chaos Olympics,” she replies, slipping her headset on.

They load into a match. It’s easy, this. Banter bouncing between them like they’ve done this for ages—even though this is technically their first proper stream together.

He makes dry, ridiculous commentary.

She mock-scolds him for stealing her kills.

He starts humming Wonderwall at one point and she threatens to rage quit.

The chat, naturally, loses it.

@bananasformonsters:

why do they lowkey sound like a couple

@yourewatchingBBCthree:

"she turned the fountain into her personal Olympic trial" – I’m crying, marry her already

@justvibingirl:

how do they know each other?? is this a collab or a situationship??

She snorts reading the comments, but George—either oblivious or intentionally ignoring them—just keeps playing.

After two hours and several chaotic rounds, they finally log off.

Y/N slumps back in her chair, cheeks aching from smiling. She opens Instagram on autopilot, half-thinking she should maybe share a clip.

And then—

@georgeclarkey followed you.

Huh.

A second later, a DM pops up.

georgeclarkey:

sorry in advance for the influx of people asking if we’re dating. feel free to deny everything. or say we met in Tesco. up to you.

She stares at the message for a moment. Bites her lip.

Then types:

y/n:

Tesco feels right. Two hands met over the last salt and vinegar packet. Destiny.

The typing bubble appears.

georgeclarkey:

iconic. should probably get married for the brand alone.

She laughs out loud. Okay, maybe she’s going to be alright.

---

@madforgeorge

@wherethezoes-at

@sundarksposts

@clarkey4life

[writingdevil]

everything you write continues to be absolutely AMAZING. i will forfeit my life to you if you write anything opportunist related. (of course you don't haaaave to)

(Thank you! I love Opportunist, and I keep making him go through really vulnerable and emotional moments, and it's not gonna stop now! I decided to hop back into the Royal Flock AU, hope that's okay. Enjoy!)

(You can read the first part here!)

Opportunist took a deep breath in, smiled, then walked into the throne room.

He hasn't gotten used to the sight yet, but he has gotten good at hiding his reaction to the sight. He kept his shaking hands behind his back as he strode up to the throne, the deep red carpet as his path. To his left and right, tall, white pillars lined the room, and Opportunist remembered how they used to hide behind them to scare the king sometimes.

His legs stopped at the foot of the throne, muscle memory still working as usual despite the circumstances. His eyes were pinned to the bottom of the golden throne, where he could see legs spread out and unmoving, and Opportunist swallowed his nerves, before lifting his head to face his king.

As his eyes drifted upwards, he saw two scaly arms resting on the sides of the throne, adorned with only a single gold bracelet, one that had been gifted to him upon his coronation by the flock.

In Opportunist's opinion, a king should always be dripping in gold, to show everyone how important they were, and that they grabbed everyone's attention when they walked into a room. That's why he loved wearing his own jewellery-a few rings on his fingers, a brass metal chain looping across his chest over his silk white button up, and he even had a necklace, but that was usually hidden beneath his plumage.

His eyes lifted higher, and his heart threatened to break at the slow rise and fall of a chest.

He was alive. Despite everything that would suggest otherwise, the king was alive. He had to be.

Finally, Opportunist met the Long Quiet's eyes.

Or, he should've-if the king Long Quiet hadn't been put under a sleeping curse.

His face looked so peaceful as he slept, even as his mind was trapped. His large set of six wings curled around him protectively, a black, feathery mass that was supposed to be their ruler-but he had been reduced to this.

His golden crown was the only thing reminding people that he was-is-a powerful ruler that should not be messed with. The crown barely swayed with the soft movement of him sleeping, the bright, white gem glinting in the sunlight.

He looked radiant like this, even under a curse.

But that was when Opportunist was forced to take in the whole picture.

Chains.

Chains were wrapped around the king's body.

Chains shackled his feet to the floor, shackled his hands against the armrests, pinned the leader of their kingdom to the seat that he had rightfully earned-and who could possibly never escape from.

The chains were always the part that Opportunist tried to block out, because it kept reminding them that someone did this to their king, that someone attacked their king-and the royal flock was powerless to stop it.

Nobody blamed themselves more than their poor Hero, who had been with the king when it happened. He had simply been relaxing on his throne one minute-and the next-his mind was being overtaken by some wicked curse, and chains just appeared out of nowhere, leaving the king in his current state. For months.

Opportunist shook his head before he could give his anger any time to breathe, and he straightened up, spreading his wings wide and smiling up at his sleeping king, no matter how much the forced smile hurt his face.

"Your Majesty," he began confidently, keeping his eyes trained on just above the Long Quiet's face, at the crown sitting on his head. "You will be pleased to know that I have successfully gotten the blacksmiths to remain situated here instead of the Kingdom of Vultures, and convinced them that their continued patience and loyalty to you will be rewarded handsomely upon your recovery."

Then he smirked, making a show of glancing around the throne room, then leaned closer to loudly whisper, "But between you and me, Your Majesty, we don't have to pay them at all. I just said that so that others don't think of walking away from you in your time of need."

He could instantly imagine dozens of reactions the Long Quiet could grace him with in that moment. He could chuckle at his craftiness, he could roll his eyes at him, he could take his hands and say, 'Thank you for all your hard work, Oppy. I'm so lucky to have an advisor and a friend as loyal as you.'

That last one would never happen. Maybe for good now.

This was Opportunist's job, as an advisor-to go out and make deals to better support the kingdom, whether that be by lying, persuasion or honest bribery. He was the one who attended all the balls and parties, and smiled and shook hands, and then he would slide up to his king and whisper the names of who to talk to or avoid completely.

That was still his job now-but now he was more focused on keeping the affairs of the kingdom running smoothly, making sure that nobody was trying to back away from their deals or think of taking any openings for power that they believed to be there.

Opportunist saw all the cracks forming, and he refused to let his kingdom crumble.

He could feel his smile tremble, the stress and grief trying to bring him down, but he refused to break down when his king needed him at his best.

Stubborn called his an idiot for keeping this up. Cheated said he was just hurting himself. But what else could he do? Ignore their king? Delude himself into thinking that everything will be okay if he just believed?

No. No, the kingdom will fall without the court filling the holes that the Long Quiet left, so they couldn't afford time to grieve or cry, because there was still a kingdom to run, a kingdom that the Long Quiet loved so much, and Opportunist would be damned if he allowed it to fall to ruin.

He sighed, blinking back tears, and was about to continue his report, when a voice cut through the thick silence.

"Wow, that's a real tough crowd you got there."

Opportunist's head shot up, to the ceiling, where a certain jester was clinging to one of the pillars, looking down at him from afar.

Contrarian smiled wide at him once their eyes met, and then launched into the air, wings shooting out to catch him as he flew around the throne room. Opportunist rolled his eyes as Contrarian started to circle around him, slowly gliding down until he landed right in front of him, then bowed deeply.

"Your king is behind you," Opportunist said blankly, and Contrarian rocked back and forth on his heels as he replied with, "I know, but unfortunately, I recently told the big guy a bad joke, and he's been giving me the silent treatment ever since."

Opportunist couldn't stop the burst of shocked laughter that exploded out of him. He slapped a hand over his mouth and stared at Contrarian with wide eyes. "You can't just say things like that! He could be listening!" Opportunist exclaimed, appalled at the other, who was just grinning in victory.

Contrarian giggled, the bells of his jester hat jingling and ringing within the large room. Opportunist glared at him as he quickly composed himself, but his annoyance almost instantly melted away, instead being replaced with an aching fondness for the other.

Once their eyes met again, Opportunist cast his eyes downwards and mumbled, "Welcome back." Contrarian was surprised for a moment, before beaming at him with such brightness that Opportunist definitely didn't deserve.

Contrarian was their court jester, making sure their king was happy and relaxed in amongst all the stress and heaviness that came with being a ruler. He had a habit of being unpredictable, having a tendency to go against what everyone else wanted or expected of him. He would just pop up in random places throughout the kingdom and cause some sort of chaos that either Hero or Cheated cleaned up.

Contrarian was content with being the laughing stock of the kingdom, so long as he saw a smile on people's faces-that was all that mattered to him.

Although Opportunist couldn't personally understand his reasoning or see himself pissing people off without anything to gain, he was grateful for the role that Contrarian played in the court, and not just because he genuinely liked seeing the others happy.

"How was your trip?" Opportunist asked, avoiding Contrarian's eyes, and Contrarian waved a hand in the air and said, "Oh, nothing special. Same old party, same old tricks. Nothing too special to report."

Opportunist paused, then looked at Contrarian properly, who smirked as if that was the reaction he wanted from him. Opportunist ignored how he was falling for Contrarian's tricks in favour of taking a step forward, putting as much authority into it. He craned his neck up slightly and said, "Tell me what you know."

Contrarian put his hands behind his back, mimicking him, and leaned down close enough that Opportunist had to actually back away slightly. He saw the dark, mischievous glint in Contrarian's eyes as he softly said, "Make me."

Because that was the other thing about jesters-they're always being underestimated.

Opportunist scowled at him, attention shifting from Contrarian to the sleeping king behind him. He couldn't help the anger that lashed out from him as he snapped, "Connie, stop fucking around! If you found out something that can help us, you need to tell me now."

He instantly regretted letting that anger loose, and seeing Contrarian's shocked and guilty face didn't help either.

He stumbled back a few steps, wings spreading out for protection. He fiddled with the gold chain on his shirt as he tried to compose himself, taking quick, deep breaths. Contrarian was silent as Opportunist continued to calm down, and he struggled with whether to put a mask or not. On one hand, that was probably the smart thing to do. On the other hand, it was Contrarian.

Eventually, he sighed in defeat, shoulders and wings slumping as he softly spoke up, "I'm sorry for yelling. I just-missed you." His face heated up at having to admit those words, but seeing the way Contrarian brightened up had something fluttering deep in his chest, and he decided that it had been worth it.

There was a teasing edge in Contrarian's voice as he said, "Oh, so you're glad I'm back?"

"Yes," he replied in a clipped tone. "Three weeks is far too long. I missed seeing you piss Cheated off."

Contrarian chuckled, and when he took a step forward, Opportunist didn't back away, but a small bundle of nerves did form every time Contrarian got closer. "I also missed annoying you all. The Hummingbirds were nice, but nothing can beat this chaotic court of birdbrains."

Opportunist chuckled lightly, and Contrarian's face lit up brighter than a flame at the sound, and Opportunist really needed to stop liking that face.

"But, that being said, I do have some info to give you."

"I knew it," Opportunist's wings flapped in excitement, rushing right up to the jester in a hurry. "What is it? Tell me what you found out."

"Ah-ah-ah," but then Contrarian was wagging a finger in his face, an infuriatingly cheeky grin on his face. "You know the two things you need to do if you want me to tell you. I know you remember."

Opportunist sighed sharply, ignoring the way his feathers puffed up, but judging from Contrarian's laugher, he hadn't.

He glanced around the throne room nervously. "Do we have to do this here? What if somebody sees?" Contrarian raised a brow and nodded towards their king. "What? You mean him? He's not gonna open his eyes anytime soon." Opportunist lightly shoved him for his crassness, but Contrarian just laughed and looked at him expectedly.

His heart skipped a beat.

He sighed in defeat, waving for the other to go on.

"Yes!" Contrarian cheered, and Opportunist couldn't hold back his smile of anticipation if he tried. Contrarian was practically bouncing as he said, "Okay! Okay! So, when I was at the Hummingbird court, I brought the house down with my act. You could say that they were raven with laughter."

Opportunist barely lett a huff of a laugh out. "Is that the best you've got?"

Contrarian stopped bouncing, before giving him a serious look of consideration, humming deeply as he stroked his chin. "You're right," he eventually agreed, "that joke was caw-ful."

Suddenly, giggles exploded out of Opportunist, and he tried to slap his hand over his mouth, if Contrarian hadn't grabbed his wrists so that his laughter rang out within the throne room, giving Opportunist a look of pure joy.

This was dumb. Those puns were absolutely terrible.

But something in his chest released when he laughed, and Opportunist's body suddenly felt lighter.

It felt good to laugh.

After his laughter died down and his face was thoroughly sore, Opportunist had a dopey smile on his face, and Contrarian was just beaming at him now.

"I hate you," Opportunist mumbled, and Contrarian instantly retorted with, "No you don't." Then he twisted his head to the side and said, "Now for the second part of our agreement?"

This was the part he missed the most.

Opportunist didn't turn to look back as he spread a wing out to block the two of them from the king. Then, he leaned closer to Contrarian, closed his eyes, and pressed a soft kiss to Contrarian's cheek.

That was Contrarian's condition for agreeing to help him-that Opportunist be nothing but genuine with him.

He swiftly leaned back, ignoring both the heat on his face and the soft look Contrarian was giving him. He just cleared his throat while trying to remain calm and collected, and said, "Was that good enough for you? Will you-"

"Yes, yes, I'll tell you what I found out, since you loved my jokes so much." Opportunist rolled his eyes, but became serious once Contrarian actually looked to focus up as well, an excited glint in his eyes as he said, "Okay, so the Hummingbird court didn't actually have any information regarding sleeping beauty over there, but I did manage to find out something about Skeptic."

"What was it? What did he do?" Opportunist didn't even bother to pretend to keep the hunger out of his voice. This meant too much to him.

"Apparently, he was in the Dove court, last time they checked. All they knew was that he was suddenly being chased out and hunted down by their royal soldiers."

"By the Dove court?" Opportunist asked, brows furrowing in confusion as he started to walk around while deep in thought. "How did he manage to piss off the Doves?" The Doves and their kingdom were considered the most pure and kind hearted of all the kingdoms, and they were the first to send their condolences to them after the fate of the Long Quiet. Of course, Opportunist didn't trust them, but he also hadn't found any dirt on them, so he just kept them at arms length.

But if Skeptic somehow angered them-"That must mean that he found out something important, something that the Doves want hidden."

"Exactly," Contrarian agreed, a wicked grin on his face, and Opportunist had never been more grateful for their arrangement before.

Opportunist may be good at getting people to trust him and to tell him all their dirty secrets, but not everybody was willing to let their guard down around him. But they would-around a jester.

Contrarian would often travel to neighbouring kingdoms for events and parties, entertaining them with his jokes, but now he was also privy to loose lips and relaxed, unconcerned minds, and he was able to hear gossip that would never be spoken around Opportunist-but Contrarian always ran back to tell him.

That was their agreement for working together-that Contrarian tell him all he found out, all for a little of genuine affection from Opportunist.

The results were always worth the mortification, and right now, Opportunist felt like his mind was alight with power and desire.

"We need to send a carriage for Skeptic right away," he instructed firmly, "I need to know what he found out."

"Whatever you say, boss." Contrarian held out his hand, and Opportunist didn't even think as he took ahold of it, the touch becoming more comforting as grounding each time they held hands. Opportunist began to march them out of the throne room, when he suddenly froze, and looked back at the king.

It was hard to forget that he was technically gone, that they couldn't reach out and hear his thoughts on anything. Would he agree with what Opportunist was doing? Would he respect him less because of it? What if he was happier without them-

A wing blocked the king from view.

Opportunist jumped, then looked over at Contrarian, who was giving him a soft look and a reassuring squeeze of his hand. "Come on," he whispered, "let's leave him to it."

Opportunist felt a tenderness in his heart for the other blossom, so he just focused back on the task at hand, nodded, and they walked off to save their king.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Times They Are A-Changin'

After Danny's coronation ceremony, Sam convinces the trio to go to Undergrowth's realm so she can collect some ghost plants. While there, Tucker accidentally lets slip something that's been on his mind that he'd hoped to keep a secret.

For the Prompts: Danny Phantom is now 16, and as such, is old enough to officially be crowned King of the Ghost Zone. His coronation is…an interesting ritual to say the least. The ghosts don't seem to see how odd it is, but Sam and Tucker definitely are uneasy with the whole thing. And Danny? He doesn't know how to feel. And that's a problem all in of itself. Bonus points for very creepy and Eldritch/Lovecraftian horror or analog horror. {from @sheabeeprime} Danny and Sam finally get their act together, but Tucker starts to get jealous. (Everlasting trio endgame) {from @modordracena} Sam convinces Danny and Tucker to make the trip to Undergrowth's lair so she can harvest clippings of some ghost plants. {from @thefloatingshoppinglist} and Vampire Tucker. That is all. {from @atropos-aeneas}

Read Also on AO3

[Warnings for mild language, blood, and mentions of eldritch horror]

Two years had passed since the ghost portal turned on and changed Danny's life forever—arguably by ending it, but Danny still refused to acknowledge that. As his closest friends, Sam and Tucker's lives had been changed too that day. And every day since.

A lot can happen in two years, as it turned out. Danny defeated the ghost king and in doing so became next in line for the throne. Vlad challenged him for succession rights on a technicality and got his ass handed to him. Tucker got turned into a vampire. Sam started started studying witchcraft so as not to be left out of the supernatural loop. A few weeks ago, she and Danny had finally gotten their acts together and started dating—took them long enough. And most recently, just a few hours ago, they'd gone to Danny's coronation where he officially took the title of ghost king.

Now, they were stopping in Undergrowth's realm so Sam could harvest some clippings from ghost plants for her witch stuff. Danny and Tucker had both argued against it, since they had never been on good terms with Undergrowth, and of all the things that had changed over the last two years, that wasn't one of them. But then Sam pointed out that Danny was the Ghost King now and so as long as they were in the Ghost Zone, he was all-powerful.

Kinda hard to argue with that.

"I'm just saying," Sam said as she stroked the leaves of some kind of vine, taking in its appearance with a discerning eye, "That coronation was weird, babe. Tucker agrees with me!"

Tucker did agree with her, but at the moment he was more focused on her calling Danny babe and the way it kinda made his stomach hurt for some reason. "What? Oh, yeah. Coronation. Weird."

Danny rubbed his chest where the ghostly bishop had reached inside to touch his core. "It was... interesting," he said. "But there were thousands of other ghosts there, and none of them seemed to think anything was odd about it, so maybe that's just how ghost coronations are."

"Yeah, but they weren't the ones getting molested by some strange ghost priest," Sam pointed out. Apparently having deemed the vine a suitable specimen, she pulled a pair of clippers out of her purse and trimmed some leaves off, placing them in a small glass jar and corking it.

Tucker watched her, his thoughts conflicted between how strange she looked gardening when she was dressed to the nines for a royal coronation, and how absolutely radiant she looked. He bit the inside of his cheek, fang sinking through his own flesh as he reminded himself that she was Danny's girl and he could be keeping his eyes to himself, but the soft green glow of the ectoplasmic flora combined with her shimmering black dress made her look ghoulish in the most attractive way, and that was hard to ignore.

"He was a bishop," Danny said. Then he sighed and took the crown off his head, turning it over in his gloved hands with a frown. 

When Pariah Dark wore it, it was a crown of flames, but now that Danny was king, it had become a crown of frost, and the fractals of ice that covered it shone under the green glow like glitter. It went well with the cape, which was lined with stars so it glinted and sparkled when Danny moved.

It wasn't fair. Tucker was wearing his best clothes too, but he didn't look nearly as hot as his friends.

"I don't really know how to feel about the whole thing, honestly," Danny said. "Touching my core was one thing, but that part where everyone started chanting all that stuff about me becoming 'one with the Infinite Realms for better or for worse'? I mean I already don't like that they're explicitly accepting me as a ruler even if I fuck everything up, but... it made me feel... powerful. Like suddenly I could access all the energy from all the ectoplasm in the Zone just by thinking about it. It was such a rush, but also... kinda terrifying."

"It was terrifying to watch, too," Sam told him.

"Yeah, but also kinda cool," Tucker added.

During the chanting part of the ceremony, Danny had started to glow brighter and brighter green, then his form started to blur and expand until he really looked like he was merging into the ectoplasmic sky. Then the bishop formally pronounced Danny King of the Realms, and just like that, he was back to normal, albeit with a brand new cape and crown.

Sam hummed absently, and when she spoke it was in a whisper. "I don't know why... but it reminded me of the portal. You looked so... confused and distressed. You didn't scream like you did then, but... I don't know. Maybe I'm just drawing connections that aren't there."

She knelt down in the dirt to examine a flower.

Tucker wanted to go and comfort her, but he held himself back. That was Danny's job now.

"It didn't hurt," Danny told her, kneeling down next to her and putting a hand on her back. "I'm totally fine."

Tucker wanted so badly to lower himself with them—but they were the ones in a relationship, not him. He was just the third wheel. 

It had been three weeks of this. Ever since the two of them got together, Tucker had felt inexplicably jealous. At first he thought he wanted a relationship of his own, but he went on a couple dates with Ashley from school and it had only made him feel worse. After that didn't work, he thought maybe it was his new possessive vampire instincts. That was a thing, right?

Over the past couple days, though, he'd been starting to realize that it wasn't a relationship he wanted, nor was it his friend's time and attention. He wanted them. He wanted to be with them. The same way they were with each other.

He swallowed back his jealousy, and once they'd had their moment, he decided to change the subject to something a little less disturbing.

"Can we hurry this up?" he asked. "I'm starving, and there's nothing for a vampire to eat here in the Ghost Zone."

Sam huffed a sound that was halfway between a laugh and an exasperated sigh. "How is it that even as a vampire, food is the only thing that's ever on your mind?"

Food and you two, Tucker thought, not that he would be brave enough to say that out loud.

Sam reached into her purse and pulled out one of her corked glass vials. She seemed to carry around an unending supply of them ever since she started studying witch craft, both empty and occupied. This one was full of a thick red liquid that Tucker instantly recognized.

"Snack time!" she said, tossing the vial in his direction.

The old Tucker definitely would have fumbled it and let it break on the ground, but with his vampire reflexes, he caught it easily. 

"You just have this?" he asked her, his eyes flitting between her and the vial in astonishment. He uncorked it and took a whiff of the scent. It was undeniably human. "What kind of ultra-recyclo vegetarian carries around human blood in her purse?"

"The kind who's been practicing blood-letting for the benefit of her vampire friend," she said. "And can we please let the ultra-recyclo vegetarian thing go! Just say vegan. It's way faster and way less cringe."

Danny snickered a little at that, but Tucker barely noticed. In his mind there were just three words looping infinitely as he raised the vial to his lips and realized it was Sam's own blood he was drinking, sweet and rich.

"I love you."

He noticed his friends both looking at him, wide-eyed before he noticed that he'd voiced his thoughts out loud.

"Fuck!" he said emphatically. In an instant, he dropped the vial and with a speed only vampires were capable of, he disappeared into the dark, twisted jungles of Undergrowth's realm.

He stopped when he reached a copse of trees that formed something like a natural lean-to, and he curled up under it wondering how realistic it would be to wish for death when he was already undead.

He didn't know how long he laid there in the fetal position before he heard approaching footsteps crunching on the ground, and say up in alarm, unsure whether it was his friends, or some of Undergrowth's underlings, and even less sure which he would prefer.

It was a minute or so before they were close enough to smell who it was, even with his heightened senses, and the deep-seated sense of relief and joy at realizing it was Sam and Danny was not at all indicative of wanting to actually see and speak to them.

"Tucker? You there?" Danny's voice called out.

If Tucker's heart was still beating, it would have stopped. "How did you find me?"

"I'm not sure, really," Danny replied as his white boots came into view, Sam's platform combat boots joining them a moment later. Tucker didn't lift his gaze, not wanting to see their faces. "I could just kind of sense where you were. Maybe it's a ghost king thing. One with the Infinite Realms and all that. Can we talk about how you told my girlfriend you loved her and then sprinted into the wilderness?"

Well... it wasn't like things could get any worse, so fuck it, Tucker decided. "Not that it makes any difference, but I love you too, Danny," he said. It might not be too late to pass it off as a platonic 'I love you', but he found that he didn't really want to do that. "Didn't realize until you guys got together, though. Too little too late, I guess."

He didn't see the way Sam and Danny looked at each other, the silent conversation they had only with their eyes.

"Who said it's too late?" asked Sam.

He blinked in shock and tilted his head up to look at their faces for the first time since his accidental confession. They were smiling. Their expressions kind and full of fondness. Danny reached out a hand to help him up, and Tucker hesitantly accepted it.

"Everyone knows the three of us are a trio," Danny said lightly. "Practically joined at the hip. Wouldn't feel right to exclude you from anything you wanted to be a part of with the two of us."

"Not that we'd ever want to," Sam added.

For a moment, Tucker just stood there, frozen with overwhelming emotion. Then, he lurched forward and wrapped the pair of them up in a crushingly tight hug until Sam tapped his back, indicating that she couldn't breathe, and he loosened his grip on her slightly, but didn't release either of them. Sam was still human, but Danny didn't need to breathe.

"A you for real?" he couldn't help asking. "This isn't some kind of fucked up prank, or a dream?"

"Absolutely for real," Danny answered. "Sam's still catching her breath, but if she could speak right now, I'm sure she'd agree. We love you too."

[theheartsickdevil]

Healing Together

{Ronin x mc who’s insecure about their mental health}

A/n: I’m actually kind if glad this won the poll, and yes since someone requested it too I’m going to write the high-school au. This is the 2nd fic of the night xD maybe I’ll try falling asleep after this.. maybe.. hehehehehe. I also wanted to write this as mc being one of Ronin’s childhood bestfriends (like ther) so yeah..

Tw’s: mentions of: depression, self-harm, bedrotting, loneliness and eating disorders. There are some references/spoilers to Gluttony Gods! so if you don’t want spoilers I recommend playing the game!!

*.• ☆ •.*

You, Ronin and Ther were best friends since you were little. You’ve always been such a nice trio. Even when Ronin and Ther started dating and when Ronin ran away, you didn’t divide and stayed togeter as a group. Everyone was happy, until Ther was forced to be the prom queen.. unfortunately when Ronin came back to Angelwood, it was too late to save Ther.. he just watched the scene of the prom queen and king’s coronation before noticing you weren’t there.. when the ceremony finished, he decided to look for you.. he started looking in some spots you used to hangout togeter, but he didn’t find you anywhere.. he ended up walking to your place, knocking on the door. There was no answer so he decided to just barge in from the window.. it wasn’t the best of the ideas but hey, he wanted to see you at the very least.. he barged in your living room, just to notice the bedroom’s door open and it smelling like rotten.. he slowly walked to your bedroom just to find you laying in your bed, your room was a mess. There were piles of clothes everywhere scattered on the floor with empty cans of energy drinks and some food packaging.. not to even mention your bed wich was covered in blood, some sheets who were half on the bed and half on the floor and an old plushie.. you were probably passed out. He decided to open the windows to let some fresh air pass and then he gently shook you awake.

“Hey.. are you alive?”

He asked, looking at your face.. you slowly opened your eyes and then tensed up. You immediately sat on the bed and tried to cover your body with some bedsheets. When you realized it was him, you relaxed but not completely

“When.. how.. why?..”

You had so many questions right now, but you didn’t even know where to start..

“I came to save Ther and rescue you too, but it was too late to save them..”

He explained, as he looked at you in the eyes.

“You don’t need to panic, I’m still me.. you know?”

“N..no it’s not that..”

You tried to explain.. but words didn’t dare to come out of your mouth.. you didn’t really want to talk about these kinda things with him since he went trough it as well.. honestly? You were embarrassed about yourself. You were 19 and you couldn’t take care of yourself.. you’d always end up either starving and counting every single calorie to binging and then regretting it all and ending harming yourself in any way possible, making you fall into an endless loop. You didn’t really know what ti say..

“I’m sorry, my room is a little messy..”

“Nah that’s okay, you didn’t even know I was coming in the first place”

You made some space on the bed for him to sit, and as he sat down you tried not to show your scars too much since you didn’t know if it would’ve triggered him or not.. there was a moment of silence, before you broke the ice.

“They’re gone, aren’t they?”

“Yeah..”

“I warned them, but they just didn’t listen..”

You said, as you started sobbing a little.. your head fell down Ronin’s shoulders as you started sobbing a bit.

“If only they listened to me right now we’d still be together like when we were young..”

“Hey.. don’t cry.. it’s..okay…”

He muttered, as he pulled you closer into a hug. He slowly traced some patterns on your back as he tried to soothe you. He hated it when you took everything as it was your fault.. sure, he was sad he was too late, but not he couldn’t just let you go, especially seeing how bad your mental health degraded since last time you saw him. You continued crying with your head buried in his shoulder for a bit more, before falling silent again.. you just hugged him more tightly..

“I missed you.. and Ther did too..”

“I missed you guys too.. but now, we need to escape..”

“Ronin.. you don’t understand.. I’ve been rotting in this room ever since you leaved.. I’m too weak to even get up..”

“I’ll carry you all the way if I have to”

“..I don’t want you to, I’d feel too guilty..”

“Oh, shut up.. if you need help getting dressed to taking a shower I can help you”

With that, you freezed. You immediately held a little tighter onto your bedsheets, trying to cover up your body..

“I can do it myself..”

“…”

“You’re hiding something, I can tell..”

“I-it’s nothing I swear..”

“Y/N. Take those sheets off yourself. No buts allowed.”

With that, you just sighed.. you knew it was useless fighting against Ronin, especially when he insisted like this.. you let go of your bedsheets and let Ronin see the scars on your body along with your unhealthy figure.. you didn’t like it. You hated having all the attention on you and you were just so embarrassed of yourself right now.. Ronin didn’t say anything tough.. he didn’t judge or say anything.. he just looked at you.. and you knew that look. He was worried about yiu but he tried not to show it too much. He just let out a sigh as he got up from the bed.

“Come on, I’m gonna help you shower and then you’re gonna pack something before running away. I was too late to save Ther so now I don’t want to be late saving you too..”

He said, as he helped you get up and get in the shower.. shame literally disappeared right now since he saw how you looked under those half-rotten sheets. You weren’t even embarrassed of being naked in front of him to be honest.. he just helped you to clean yourself, he was pretty delicate about it too, like you were a fragile porcelain doll. When he was done, he turned off the water and helped you get into some towels.. when you dried yourself off he helped you put on some clothes.

“I’m just bringing some soare clothes and my money..”

“That’s okay, you’ll stay over at my place so that won’t be too much of a trouble if you don’t bring anything else..”

You just nodded as you put some clean clothes in your backpack and your savings in a little box hidden in between the clothes. You looked at Ronin before nodding. He nodded back and he started walking to the door. You two ended up successfully sneaking away from Angelwood, and eventually going to Ronin’s new city., in his new place. It was pretty cozy to be honest, and you noticed blackjack and pepperoni being there too. It made you kind of happy to be honest. You finally ran away, and Ronin helped you trying to get better every day.. after some time you started working as well and going to therapy (luckily). You still think about Ther every day, though. You know damn well Ronin does too, that sure was a deep scar for the both of you two, so you never talked about it. You and Ronin ended up living together in his apartment, when he created the server you sometimes liked to join the calls as well.. and even when Ronin and Angel broke up, you were there for him, helping him like he helped you even if they broke up “happily”. You were happy Ronin saved you and helped you, you could really say you two were ‘healing together’ after all..

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Wings au, but:

Wings only manifest if you're liminal (they are thought to always exist, but only reveal themselves after an NDE/equivalent liminality trigger)

Wings are only visible to other liminals

Arent really functional so much as a representation of the soul, and not corporeal, just visual. Arent really set in stone either, they can evolve as the character develops, and might start out with strong influence of the triggering event that revealed them.

Can be a wide variety of things that could only be described as wings in the broadest sense

Not really any such thing as secret identities among liminals because of them

Liminality is extremely broad, so it covers most of the league and a small percentage (like 1-2% at most) of the civilian population

Different individuals:

Danny: a shadow void that shows a perfect view of space in the direction you're looking into it (but initially started as nondescript mass of light that matched his transformation rings)

Dani: an aurora, constantly moving and shifting, started out very ecto-green, shifted to more natural aurora colors over time

Batman: a cloak of shadow that occasionally takes the shape of bat wings

Jason: flaming phoenix wings, obviously (shape matches an eagle or condor, have remained pretty consistent, though they started more smoldery and are currently more flamy, flame is green when under effects of pit rage)

Poison ivy: "fairy" wings, actually look like giant leaves/flower petals, always appropriately seasonal

Superman: they look like solar coronal loops of plasma

Valerie: match the vibes of her nanosuit, might even be floaty and detached

Jazz: perfect white angel wings, very floofy (people mistake her for soft, then learn why angels are traditionally feared)

Cass: perfect angel wings, but black and obviously swan shaped

Damian: metallic wings where the feathers are each a blade, have gone from jagged to more sleek after moving in with bruce

Duke: sunbeams that trail like a regal cloak

Selina: has a proper cat tail instead of "wings"

That's all the ideas i had so far. Feel free to add your own for other characters.

[apod]

2025 March 31

Parker: The Solar System from Near the Sun Video Credit: NASA, JHUAPL, Naval Research Lab, Parker Solar Probe; h/t: Richard Petarius III; Music: Russian Easter Festival Overture, Op. 36 by N. Rimsky-Korsakov; Source: Musopen; Performance: Czech National Symphony Orchestra (via Musopen); Music Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Explanation: If you watch long enough, a comet will appear. Before then, you will see our Solar System from inside the orbit of Mercury as recorded by NASA's Parker Solar Probe looping around the Sun. The video captures coronal streamers into the solar wind, a small Coronal Mass Ejection, and planets including, in order of appearance, Mercury, Venus, Saturn, Earth, Mars, and Jupiter. Between the emergence of Earth and Mars, Comet Tempel 1 appears with a distinctive tail. The continuous fleeting streaks are high energy particles from the Sun impacting Parker's sideways looking camera. The featured time-lapse video was taken last year during Encounter 21, Parker's 21st close approach to the Sun. Studying data and images from Parker are delivering a better understanding of the dynamic Sun's effects on Earth's space weather as well as humanity's power grids, spacecraft, and space-faring astronauts.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap250331.html

[scandinavianfairytale]

And so we pray

Pairing: ex Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Tony dies in this, betrayal, plotting of a revolt, planning to over-throw the Hydra goverment

A/N: Part 1 😁

You sighed as you laid on the roof of the building that you called home and HQ for the past seven months. Laying the ground work after the epic betrayal was hard. Harder than anything you experienced as an ex-Shield agent.

Up until that moment Steve Rogers turned into Captain Hydra, right before your eyes.

Closing your eyes, you could still see that moment. As if it’s burned into your head.

Everything went exactly as planned and now the world was safe.

"We won Steve." You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him with excitement. He held you close, smiling into the kiss.

"Guys, something's wrong..." Tony's voice broke your kiss. Stepping away from Steve and coming to Tony's side, you glanced at the computer screen. The previously disabled guns were now activating again.

"How is this happening, didn't we overwrite the system?"

"We did, Steve-" The sentence was cut off when a blade pierced his abdomen. Your horrified gaze settled on Steve and for a second, time stood still as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. Tony fell on the floor, blood pouring out of his wound and mouth, but still no words left your mouth.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Doll." Steve smirked and cupped your trembling face. You blinked rapidly, flinching away from his touch, but still refusing to process what was happening.

"Y-you need to r-run." Tony stammered only to be kicked by your boyfriend.

"You're not going to run, are you? It's me. Captain America. Steve. I would never hurt you." The smile that was once so sweet turned twisted before your eyes and suddenly you were left wondering how you could've fallen for the man standing in front of you.

His hands seized you, his touch burning and you trashed in his grasp, slapping at his torso as panic enveloped your body. This was the person that set morals for the whole nation. This was the man that you put your faith into. This was Steve...the one man you trusted. And it was all a lie. A ruse. A mask for what he really was.

Captain Hydra.

Grabbing at your watch and pressing on the crown of your watch a shock fork shot out, lodging in Steve's arm. He released you as high voltage made him freeze and you stumbled away from him. You knew you only had a few seconds. Quickly glancing at Tony, you willed yourself to keep running, already knowing he was beyond saving. Running to the terrace and jumping off, you pulled on the belt loop which shot out a hook cable to keep you from falling. The second your feet touched the ground, you were sprinting away, tears burning your eyes, but you didn’t have a choice. You had to run and find a safe place to re-think and re-group.

Scowling you sat up and looked at the remnants of New York. The city you loved so dearly was now in pieces, the machine Steve took control of, destroyed everything reminding the people of the previous government and the freedom they held. You have been successfully evading your ex-boyfriend turned tyrant for months now and building your own army of like-minded individuals.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Bucky sat down next to you.

“Funny enough I wanted to enjoy what is probably one of the last calm days.” He chuckled at that.

“Never thought I’d hear you say today is one of those calm days.”

“Same, who would’ve thought that you and I would be training people to overthrow a government led by my ex-boyfriend and your ex-best friend.” You cynically laughed. Bucky’s smile turned sour too. “You know, I’m correct, right? It’ll only get tougher and harder from here.”

“I know it’ll get significantly worse before it’ll get better.” Bucky nodded. “But it has to be done.”

You sighed again. It felt like you’ve been doing that a lot these days.

“We’re almost done with the preparations. We just have to find the right time to strike.”

“The coronation.” Bucky mentioned again. He has been vocal in strategy meetings about attacking at the time of coronation, however no one agrees since everyone will be on their highest alert.

“Bucky, we discussed this. That’s probably the worst time to strike-“

“Can you just listen to me?” He interrupted annoyed and you motioned for him to continue. “Steve will not expect it, believe me. He has been on high alert in the first months after you went missing, but now I can see he is more relaxed. I think there will be more people on guard that day, but they'll not be on high alert.”

“But if it fails, we will not get another chance. You realize that, right? All we have is this one shot. And we need to be successful.”

“I know. But if you and the rest of the task force lend me an ear, I think I have an idea how to successfully overthrow him.” Looking him in the eyes, you contemplated for a moment. At the end of the day, this was Bucky. He lost much more than you did that day and the fact he has to relive his days as a fugitive is triggering to say the least.

“Okay, I’ll make them listen.” You smiled.

~Task force~

“I fail to see why we needed to convene again.” Leah rolled her eyes as she sat down.

“We have been ignoring Bucky’s voice even though we have originally agreed that all ideas will at the very least be heard.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared at Leah. “Besides, Bucky was one of the first members of the Task Force, before it even became the Task Force.”

“I agree. Sergeant Barnes, I’m all ears.” Maria gave a small nod.

“Okay.” Leo agreed as well and so did the rest of the members.

“Thanks everyone. I don’t mean to discard the whole plan made before, I would just have a few additional suggestions. The biggest one is that our leader is our decoy-“

“What?” Leo was immediately on his feet, Maria holding him back.

“Let him finish.”

“Indeed, I’m curious to hear, what he has to say.” You leaned back in your chair, not expecting this to be Bucky's idea.

“You wouldn’t be going in alone. I would be with you and a few others. I’m not going to lie. They will most likely be collateral damage, but at the end of the day, the original plan would result in collateral damage as well.” He paused as he took in the disbelief written on Leah’s face.

"That's literally like lambs to the slaughter." She immediately jumped in.

“Sacrifices need to be made.” Thomas replied. “But we need to be transparent and let them decide who, if anyone, wants to gamble their life.”

“I think we might have more volunteers than you think, Leah.” Leo replied. “No one wants to continue living like this.”

“That’s for sure.” Trina concurred.

“Bucky, please continue.” Maria encouraged.

“The small group would try and stage an attack at the coronation. We will be captured and they will probably kill most of us.” Pausing again, Bucky turned to you and continued. “I know Steve won’t let anyone hurt you. And I want to believe me either, but if I’m wrong, I will gladly die for the cause.”

“After you are captured, Steve will think he has won, that the rumored resistance was just now extinguished and it was smaller than warned. His guard will be completely down and that’s when the original plan comes into effect.”

The whole room was quiet as he finished, everyone cautiously looking at you and each other.

“I like your idea. I think this is a solid plan. And I think we can actually execute it sooner than we originally theorized.” You exhaled.

“But what about you? Are you sure Rogers won’t kill you?” Maria asked.

“Are we sure that everyone will be ready for the war in 17 days?” Trina asked.

“Well…the answer to both questions is we’ll see. Like Bucky said – If I do end up dying, it’s for the cause, so there’s no need to be worried about that. And for our people…we will just have to make sure they are as prepared as they possibly can be.” You sighed.

“And if they won’t be?” Leah asked annoyed.

“I don’t think we have much choice. If we wait for a better time, it might never come.”

“Let’s do the best we can. That’s what we’ve been doing for the last seven months.” Thomas suggested.

“And then what?”

“And then we pray.” Your eyes met Bucky’s, who only nodded.

---------------

Thank you for reading! :)

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator - thank you! 💙

It's been a very long time since I posted anything. 😮 I wrote so many drafts, but nothing tangible and so months passed and I published nothing. I disliked this period of writer's block :( But I was driving home one day and I heard the latest song by Coldplay - We pray and I had this image in my head. And here we are 😁🙌✨

I do hope you enjoyed the story, it'll have a second part (at some point 😁✨)

But until then, I hope you'll be okay 🍀