#it was the first place i really wanted to die

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[anticapitalistclown]

clownie how are you? I wanted to request lookism boys reacting to the trend "chat can you watch my boyfriend?" its ok if you don't want to

Chat, Can you watch my boyfriend?

Gun, Jaegyeon, Vasco

Gun

Gun was focused on making dinner for the night when he heard your fast steps "Chat, can you watch my boyfriend for me? I'll be right back" before he could process anything your mobile was on the kitchen counter, and you already disappeared.

Gun raised an eyebrow and read the chat "is he really y/n's bf?" he read the question "yes, yes I am" he turned to keep cooking when a notification popped "gangnamoppa2: what is y/n doing with a loser" Gun chuckled while slicing the sashimi with his knife "the girl you're spending money on, sleeps with me every night" he shaped the rice to prepare the niguiri "who's the loser here?".

When you reappeared you found Gun giving a sushi masterclass while the chat was going crazy, you started to read the comments:

gangnamoppa2: this boy would do no good to my y/n, you should drop him

zoey: chat, let the man cook

yumin: who was that Daniel guy he was talking about?

ninjagoo: break up with him on live lol

baek: chat, don't be mean!

You tilted your head to your boyfriend "oppa, you started a war" Gun smiled triumphant "leave those losers and come eat with me".

Jaegyeon

Jaegyeon was installing a new steering wheel to Initial N, when you jumped on the passenger seat and left the phone on the dashboard "chat, watch my boyfriend for me, I'll be back real quick" you winked at the camera and left.

Jaegyeon absolutely couldn't care less about the chat, his first priority was Initial N and the new steering wheel "that's it, my dear Initial N, you've got a new toy" he said proud.

serasin: bro is cute but talks to his car

Jaegyeon read the comment "serasin, Initial N is like part of the family" the chat wouldn't get it.

monkseob: Initial N or y/n?

Jaegyeon was frozen "do I have to choose?" he sighed "okay chat, stop" his hand grabbed the steering wheel "y/n is very dear to me, but Initial N and I have a longer relationship"

2secondqueen: creep

snapper: tf is wrong with him?

"shut up" Jaegyeon looked at Inital N "Initial N has brought me places and I protected Initial N from the kings" Jaegyeon pouted "damn, it's been Initial N and me against the world, huh? I'm getting emotional" he saw you rushing back to him with a smile "I'll choose y/n".

Vasco

You pinched your boyfriend's cheeks and placed your phone on his table "chat, watch my boyfriend for me" you left the room, leaving him confused "y/n?" he called you, but there was no response "she maybe needs to go to the restroom" he looked confused at the chat "hello".

mimi: bro's scary af

baek: mf looks 30

clownie: he's kinda cute tho~

Vasco stared at the comments and pouted "I don't understand what you're saying" he looked at the door, how much are you going to take? "I guess my y/n has a lot of foreign fans" Vasco sighed "well, I'm Vasco, I like dogs and I want to get married in a future and have three daughters, and a kangaroo too" he looked dreamy "and when I'm older and about to die me and the kangaroo-" his speech was interrupted by you "I'm back" you smiled at him "where you constipated?" he asked you "no!" you giggled.

boxking: respect bro

dong: he's the one

yuna: wait! I want to know how the kangaroo story ends!

[the-artist-grimm]

Im sorry if you already answered something similar but does the twins ever reunite with Forneus in your au? If so how does it exactly work out, does Narinder, Anthea, and Forneus share custody?

Crimson Angel AU - The Situation between Forneus and the Twins

(Anon, @gerroacarnival  and @xquaserh Putting all these asks in 1 cause oh boy this is a COMPLICATED question to answer oof. I wanna preface this that while I love Forneus just going by the characters personalities/themes of this AU the reunion is not as fairy-tale happy as it is in game)

Anyway-the boys do reunite with her technically, but not in the way Forneus dreamt. Reunions are good in theory, the long lost children reunite with their ‘real’ family, hug their mother, go ‘home’ with her, start life anew, but life isn’t so simple, now is it? It’s never that easy, not when one side clings to the memory of three day old infants and a reunion she'd dreamt of for so long it just became her expectation, and the other side has no memory and complex feelings on the whole matter with this slight feeling that perhaps while their mother loves the idea of them, she doesn't actually love them.

It's messy, complicated, and no matter what, will NEVER be the reunion Forneus wanted. The second they left her embrace, she lost the chance to be the mother she'd wanted to be for them, yet never realize till too late what else died with them.

(Putting this under the cut cause it's longgggg. The Twins and Forneus's story has so little in-game text that it's become this favorite thing of mine to interpret/expand)

The Two Parents

Forneus did and didn’t have a choice to give the boys up. When Shamura appeared, the newborn, extremely premature kits were already doomed to die, so the choice to either let them pass naturally or to allow War to take them as gifts with a potential of reunion was an either damned if she did or damned if she didn’t, situation. And in her grief and desperation, she chose the option that gave the potential for hope. She gave the twins to Shamura, accepted the golden skull, and waited. Waited for her babies to come home, waited as a mother who never really ever had a chance to be a mother-one who works off feelings but no experience. 

Meanwhile when it came to Aym and Baal, Narinder never told them who their parent(s) were. How could he, when he himself had no certainty as to who they were? Though his 7th Vessel, Forneus, had left service specifically because of pregnancy, he had no means of tracking how much time had passed since when they first arrived (it could've been a century since for all he knew), nor any means to confirm without doubt that the black, newborn kittens were hers even once his next vessel gave him the date-he couldn't ask them to investigate something so personal and unrelated to their cause.

Their box held only their bodies, a spider-silk cloth which was their burial shroud, and a note penned in Shamura’s hand. ‘A Gift’ that’s all the note said. No names, no clues, no nothing. While Narinder had suspicions, he could not in good conscious tell the boys of a potential mother out of risk of being wrong-of getting their hopes up for a heroic parent only to be proved that it wasn’t her, or worse, told heroic tales just to learn they were abandoned all along. Vessel 7 was heroic yes, had a sense of justice yes, but during her service her luck had made her grow arrogant, had transformed flirting into a game of hearts and people into a way to get the upper hand-for all he knew, if they were hers, they could've all along been her means of trying to easily get out of vesselship. He just didn't know.

And thus Narinder raised them from there. He tried to use the title of ‘Master’ as a barrier in hopes that, if they did have a family awaiting them, he wouldn't take their place, (it was also out of guilt for being the reason they were trapped) but he also couldn't bring himself to fully shut them out either. The moment their dead bodies healed in the gate and they started to mewl for attention his unbeating heart bled for them, and he just couldn't deny them love because he knew how much it hurt to be without.

The Twins

As centuries passed Aym and Baal were content with Narinder as their 'Master'. He who told them stories of his time above, who taught them how to fight, who fashioned them clothes from whatever scraps of cloth he would get vessels to send-he was all they had and knew. When they felt the time to sleep it was in his paws they curled up, when they got hurt training or got bored it was from he they received comfort and attention. It was his magic which allowed them to age against the Gateway's stasis, it was he who saw their eyes open, watched as they learned to speak and walk.

But that’s not to say neither did think of whoever was left behind from time to time. Baal tried to keep hope that he and his brother were taken-stolen by the Bishops, with whatever parents they’d had having desperately tried to keep War away. Aym, meanwhile, only felt anger, bitterness and resentment, for who lets two three day old kits be taken and sacrificed? Narinder himself simply tried to keep neutral on the subject, not wanting to feed into either side in hopes that'd avoid a heartbreak or the smooth transition to their 'real' kin.

The Lamb

When the Lamb appears and starts to befriend them, it's then the boys suddenly find themselves feeling the same sense of security and comfort Narinder gives them towards Anthea. As the lamb brings them toys and books catered to their interests, teaches them to read, uses the crown to show them the world above and encourage their boundless curiosities. As nights suddenly see the lamb visit in their nightgown book and quilt in hand, letting the twins snuggle into their sides as the three are cradled against Narinder's chest while reading a book, and the boys fall asleep to a heartbeat for the first time. Narinder had always been stability and security, Anthea became tenderness and warmth.

Anthea teaches them what a 'Father' is as well, and the boys realize that's what their master actually is-he's their dad and tentatively start testing calling him as such, and while it's not until just before Silk Cradle they realize it (yet don't call them Baba yet) Anthea's long on their way to feeling like a parent too.

Which then begs the question…what of the parent(s) left behind?

First Contact

Baal still wants to meet them, he's always been curious and just wants to know who they are, while Aym is still angry and wants nothing to do with them. They got a parent in their master, and Anthea's their friend and practically a parent too, so why bother with the ones who abandoned them? Narinder overhears the boys debate over it more and more, and as Anchordeep’s door opens, Narinder hesitantly asks the Lamb for a favor.

He’d heard rumors of a shopkeep she-cat who wore a golden skull, and Anthea had been the first to confirm that cat's name was Forneus. He’d never asked a vessel to do such a thing before, mainly out of not feeling close enough to ever ask such a personal, unrelated to the Bishops, task, but he wants to give the boys closure, and Anthea would happily do anything to help the kits. And thus they're sent out, and in a bit of a side quest work their way to getting Forneus to sit down and just...talk.

She explains her side of what happened, how the boys were born too soon, how she had really no choice, breaks down, and as the cats had been listening in and Aym who's now uncertain feels bad, and he requests Narinder for permission to speak.

“Save your tears for when we meet” is what he says, and that’s all that’s said through the crown.

For Aym it’s an olive branch-he’s sorta gotten an answer as to why he and his brother were sacrificed, though he's not entirely sure how to feel since well...she still gave them up, but she looks sorry so... Baal's eager and happy to hear that they were cared about but is a little disappointed at realizing that she didn't really hesitate despite the situation, but regardless, both are willing to give her a chance. They want to get to know her, and then they'll decide how they feel after that.

They, do not, see her as a proper 'Mother'. Just someone who shares their blood who they want to meet. To then Narinder's still Dad-he's still the one who makes them feel secure.

Meanwhile for Forneus it’s proof that she’ll get what was promised. Her boys are not only alive, but they’re children-they’re still children, so she'll now get what she wanted and more. They'll reunite and she'll then take her children home to travel by her side-she’ll get to raise her dear little babies just as she’d planned, and while it took so long it's going to be perfect.

She's dreamt of the boys seeing and running into her oncoming embrace crying. That they'll love her instantly and had already because she's their mother so of course that's how they'll feel. How could they not? Children ALWAYS love their parents.

The Lamb promises to help her meet them once they’re free, and every visit after, Forneus tries to get the boys to talk again-offers gifts for the lamb to bring to the Gateway, rambles on about all the things they'll do together while the Lamb browses her shop. And...well they're things, at least. Most of the toys she offers are either baby toys or things that just don't interest the boys, and some of her plans are...plans. They're elaborate-taking them to X mountain, to X landmark, traveling here and there and everywhere. Big and grand and...and never mentioning their Dad or Anthea being there.

Baal thinks it's sweet how excited she is while Aym is getting more and more unsure-but even Baal eventually admits that she's a little...loud. Forneus is loud-she's energetic and eager and while he and Aym can be too, seeing it from a stranger about them is...weird. She keeps calling herself their Mama , and calling them Zamir and Delshad despite being told otherwise because apparently those were their names (a fact not even Shamura had been given. Narinder had to name the boys himself). She keeps talking about those three days they were with her, and it kinda feels like she loves the babies she gave up and not them.

Anthea tries to tell her about them, but she usually doesn't realzie since she's busy talking to her babies and not them, it's as if the lamb isn't even there. The boys can't even try to think of trying to talk-she never leaves an opening for them to try. Eventually the boys ask Narinder to mute the crown during the Lamb's shop visits the more uncomfortable it gets.

It's like going to a family reunion and being brought to your great Aunt who last saw you as an infant at your christening. She insists on kissing your face and hugging you tight and going oh how big you've grown sweetiepie and this and that and...and you put up with it because she's family but...well she's a stranger despite the shared blood. She doesn't actually know the you of now-and you don't know her.

Reunion

When the final Bishop falls is when Forneus suddenly finds herself left in the dark. For 6 months she sees hide nor hair of the Lamb, and gradually gets worried because where are her sons? The Bishops are dead, why hasn't she been given back her babies?

(The Lamb had been avoiding her cart during crusades out of both grief and guilt-Aym's dying word of calling them 'Baba'...it broke something in them, made them realize just how much the boys had meant. They had a shattered heart and endless guilt, and having to face Forneus and explain she'd never meet her sons? It'd been too much as a grieving parent themself)

The twins were revived after 4 months but Anthea only finally approached Forneus after 6, and she was too relived to finally hear she could meet them to bother asking what'd happened. Anthea invited her to come to the cult that weekend, and Forneus happily accepted, not even noticing the tiredness in the Lamb's eyes nor the uncertainty in their tone. Even on the day she arrived at the cult, she didn't mind the lamb, not even as Anthea gave her a final warning.  

"There was trouble setting them free…they’re wary, skittish, they’ve been through a lot... I know you’re excited but please be gentle when you speak to them, be calm and keep your distance please they’re so easy to startle."  

Meanwhile the boys waited at the temple with Narinder, who, for the hundredth time, asked if they were certain they were ready for this. Though it'd been 2 months, the toll of dying so traumatically via turning to ash, of being trapped in the gateway, the trauma of resurrection, the fear of being alone without their parents because that's what he and Anthea were to them, Narinder had wanted them to wait as did Anthea. The boys could hardly sleep without at least one of them there with them in bed, were just starting to be ok interacting with other people, could only handle the touch of a select few and even then sometimes would just break down into panic attacks out of seemingly nowhere. They weren't ok, but the boys had insisted. This woman who claimed to love them had been kept in the dark for so long, they felt bad and wanted to try.

They felt guilty for not being ok. Even as Narinder and Anthea repeatedly and gently reminded them that it was alright-that their feelings were valid, that they could take all the time they needed and they'd be right there to support them, the boys had insisted and they just couldn't deny them their choice.

But once Forneus arrived no one got the chance to even properly introduce the boys to her-she just saw them, ran towards them for the reunion she dreamt up, swept them into her arms, and next thing she knew she had two yowling, struggling kits trying to break from her hold. In her excitement and in not listening to Anthea's warnings she'd done the worst thing anyone could've done-she was louder, bigger, stronger, scarier than them, and as the kids managed to shock her into dropping them suddenly Baal was hyperventilating, and Aym was working himself into a panic attack. And Narinder and Anthea, having two months practice in calming them like this, and having long been the twin's safe people, immediately fell into place. Narinder got Baal, Anthea got Aym, and Forneus could only watch.

Could only watch as Baal started gasping for Dad as Narinder tried to get him to breathe, as Aym started sobbing for Baba and practically tried to bury himself in their embrace, as her babies looked at her in fear and clung to someone else.

And then all she can feel is anger. She'd waited 300 years-those boys were hers. Why are they clinging to someone else?

From there it just becomes a mess, she gets into a very loud, very heated argument with Narinder especially for 'stealing' her sons which just scares the boys more, and in a very poor move tries to just grab one of them which prompts Anthea to use a show of godly power and threaten her to get out of the Cult which she does since a crowd has also formed (the Cult was ALL aware of the twin's poor mental state, and they'd all grown very protective of the community's first children despite having to keep their distance because by gods those kids deserved more than what fate had given them).

Forneus leaves angry, and Narinder and Anthea now got two kits who had been tentatively healing temporarily back at square one, and who are now gonna start having nightmares of a stranger taking them away on top of preexisting ones.

I wanna note that Forneus isn't a bad person. She isn't, but she's also not used to things not going her way. As a vessel she was 'Lady Luck', she who rarely died, who always had the upper hand, who would pop curse shots at the Goddess of Famine for fun and be the heartbreaker of her own cult able to flirt and tease and talk her way to whatever she wished. She's kind and cheerful and charismatic sure and she genuinely does want to help people and do the right thing, but there's still this...ignorance, arrogance-that she doesn't even realize is there.

Like how above in Starfall Part 1 she VERY casually mentions how she 'knows what it's like missing her own twins' and 'how 'hard' it must be for Anthea to have nothing of their family to remember them by', but the thing is...she doesn't know. She's so hooked on this idea that she WILL get her boys back that she completely has just ignored the grief that comes with loss entirely this whole time. The way she misses her sons is NOTHING like how Anthea misses their brothers-she misses them like a relative you haven't seen in awhile but will see soon. Anthea misses their brothers because they're DEAD and they know that they will NEVER see the two again, especially now. Like Forneus has not considered how she's lost a LOT of moments with her children. They're still kids yeah but they're not returning to her as blank slates-though physically and mentally 11 they've been with Narinder for over 300 years, that's a lot of time to be without her. She loves them, but kinda more-so the sons she thought she'd get back.

Thus when you've been envisioning this 'perfect' reunion the entire time only for it to not go your way...it's a hard pill to swallow. She gets disappointed/angry understandably-anyone would, but instead of stepping back and realizing she can't fault the boy's feelings she takes it out of the ones who 'took' her place instead, which then turns her into this loud scary bad-guy to the boys.

And Aym and Baal aren't to blame in this situation, like they're kids, and like with my 'great aunt who last saw you as a baby' analogy, it's not their fault they don't immediately love her. She's a stranger-one whom, the more she tried to force interactions via the crown during their imprisonment, seemed to have little interest in them personally and more in whatever children she assumed she'd be getting back. And after that disaster of a first meeting? They don't want anything to do with her she scared them that much.

As for Narinder and Anthea they both feel awful because they understand why Forneus is angry, she only gave them up because she was promised a chance for reunion (though she ignored the CHANCE part of that), but in the same breath Aym and Baal are their sons and they'll take their side first over anyone else's. And the thing is there's nothing that could've been done on their part to prevent this really either.

Anthea telling Forneus the twins had died? Anger, grief, then upon their revival a fierce insistence for the boys to NEVER go near the Lamb or Narinder again, which the twins would've been just as terrified and against.

Narinder not showing care to the kits for those 300 years? They would've gotten attached to him anyway since he was literally all they had, though they might've turned out worse emotionally because of neglect

Telling the boys to wait longer to meet Forneus? She likely would've just shown up on her own within another month anyway since by that point Anthea had just freed Heket from Purgatory and word was starting to get around about the new God of Death so this would've happened but worse.

The only way Forneus could've had the reunion she'd wanted would have been if Narinder never forced the twins to start aging against the stasis. But then there would be two 300+ year old infants, which is a whole other can of worms.

Notes/Explaination

Again I love Forneus in-game she's so adorable and my one of my favorite NPCs to visit, but I also like making imperfect characters, especially parents and their relationships with their children. And while I love the idea of her being this wonderful, sweet, amazing mother, I also like the idea of her being really flawed about it to.

Crimson Angel is about learning to communicate with your loved ones, and in this case, it needs to be her looking at things from the twins view and realizing that if they don't want her in their lives, she has to accept that. She needs to realize that she's not entitled to their love just because she gave birth to them. She also has to let go of the sons she gave up that day-those three day old infants who were perfect little blank slates, and get to know the boys they became without her. She has to realize someone else took her place in their hearts, and realize that if she wants to join them, she HAS to let the boys come to her, and that she has to work on THEIR terms.

She cannot try and force a love if she wants a chance for it at all, and must swallow her pride and listen to others who know the boys better-Anthea and Narinder, alongside the boys themselves.

She'll get a relationship with the boys eventually, but it's not going to be the one she hoped for. She's gotta work on herself first and realize her flaws, maybe get some practice with handling children via unintentionally adopting a certain fan-favorite grave spider kid after finding him all alone, and just...wait. Narinder and Anthea are the twin's primary parents, and while Forneus does eventually get to a place where they're comfortable with her, it's never going to be on the same level, and they all just gotta contend with that.

Boarders are by @/lambouillet

[authorsofghosts]

You're Not Him | Horseman!Gambit x Reader | Pt. 1

Author's Note: I do not enjoy the design of black gambit in the comics so i decided to go with another design(that i made the fuck up), my apologies horseman gambit fans.... anyways enjoy the first fic we're posting here !!! thank you @genderqueerbarbie777 for beta reading :3

Summery: Remy was dead. Or so you thought. There was a man that sounded like him, had his powers, but... why did he look like that? Who was this? This wasn't your Remy.

Themes: Angst, Hurt w/ No Comfort, Previous Relationship, Betrayal, Crying, Cursing, Kidnapping, R's a mutant/x-man (no powers written), Violence.

Word Count: 1.6k

Apocalypse had chosen the perfect moment to strike, the X-Men still mourning Gambit's death. You were still shaken up about it, though it had happened months ago. You loved him, you really loved him. Even if you never let anyone but him know. You stood up from the blast, dusting yourself off till you're frozen, hearing a voice behind you.

"Cher...?" You heard, a raspy of remnant of something from your past. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. You turned to look for Remy, but you were met with something... ghoulish.

"Y-... you're not him." You say, voice strained as you look at the creature that stood there, stolen Remy's voice to fool you. The silvery skinned man smirked. He wore Remy's jacket, his fucking jacket, he had his voice, a dark deck of cards in one hand and a baton in the other. This had to be some kind of trick, an illusion, anything but real.

"Oh, but Gambit is him, petit..." The ash covered man walked towards you, his white hair covering his blackened eyes. Even his walk, his mannerisms, they were Remy's. But he was dead, Remy Lebeau was dead. You watched his casket get put in the ground, there was no way this was your lost love.

You backed away as he stood in front of you, looking down with pink glowing eyes as he put the deck of cards in the inner pocket of his jacket. He went to place his bone-y, gaunt hand on your cheek, being met with a quick swat as you took another step back.

"N-no, you're not! Wh-what are you?!" You yelled out, tears swelling in your eyes as you yelled at the thing in front of you, mocking you, mimicking the man you loved, the man you watched die.

This Remy chuckles, a sound that would normally make your heart swell with love, but this... this was dark, something evil behind it. You know if this was really Remy, he'd never hurt you, but you couldn't help the chills that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close.

"Gambit's 'Death', baby..." He starts, another low chuckle coming from his lips, "But he remembers you, cher. You're mine, remember?" These words, they brought a memory that shook you to your core.

"Cher, what are you doing?" Remy spoke softly, watching you walk into his room at the mansion. He laughed at the sight of you, your face flushed as you took off your jacket. "Ya gonna answer ol' Remy or nah?"

"I'm tired. I want... to be held." You murmur, laying on the bed next to him, quick to get his attention away from whatever he was doing before. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling the covers over you and placing you between his arm, flush against his bare chest.

You both laid there in silence, breathing synced up as he caged you in his arms, head nuzzling your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. "You're okay, mon amour... You're here, you're... mine."

You tried pulling back, the walking corpse in front of you growling lowly. "Don't ya dare fight my hold on you." His voice hissed, strong hand gripping your wrist so hard it made you gasp in pain, the tears finally falling from your eyes.

There's a shocked look on his face, grip loosening ever so slightly as he watches you closely. You notice something slight, something that reminded you of the Remy before. "P-please..." you cry out softly, "Lemme go, Rem."

This upset him, but it also made him smile as you finally acknowledge he's really who he says he is. "I don't think I will, cher..." He turns you around, placing an arm across your middle to hold you against him, other hand still tight on your wrist. "I ain't gonna leave you again. And yer not leavin' me, ya hear?"

The gaunt hand holding your wrist lets go, traveling up your arm, up your neck before finally resting on your chin, holding it softly, thumb caressing your cheek. You can't help but shiver. This causes Remy to laugh again, nuzzling into your skin. "Why are ya afraid of lil ol' me, petit? I ain't gonna hurtcha..."

"Y-you're not?" You ask, voice hoarse and breathy. You smile nervously, leaning your head back against his chest to try and show him you want to trust him. You swallow hard as he sits up, setting his chin on the top of your head.

"Of course not, cher. Why would Gambit do that to ya?" He says softly, eyes looking around at the make shift battlefield that used to be the X Mansion, pointing his baton at your teammates as they fight in the distance. "Looks like they've forgotten you, amour."

Your eyes widen as you realize what he means. It wasn't just that they'd forgotten you, you knew this wasn't true, but that they were fighting without you. They hadn't even bothered to look for you. "No, they... they need me-" You go to walk forwards but his arm around your middle brings you back flush against him.

"No they don't. I do." He growls out, his hand on your chin turning your gaze up to him. "I said it already. We ain't leavin' each other again, yer coming with me." His eyes glow, staring down at you as his grip around you tightens even more.

Your eyes widen "With you? What are you-" You're cut off by his hand on your chin covering you mouth, Remy shushing you softly. Before you can protest, you feel his baton snap to your neck, hitting a pressure point and causing you to pass out.

"Cher? Cher, wake up, please..." You heard, the cold sting of the metal table in the medical bay pressed against your back.

"Remy?" you said weakly, feeling his hands move from your own to your face, pulling you flush against his chest, a tear falling from his eyes. "What's wrong? W-what happened?" You ask, unable to remember the fight from before.

"You got hurt, bad, petit... Gambit though he was gonna lose ya fo' a moment..." He says softly, nuzzling into your skin, his warm touch against your cold skin sending chills up and down your body. It was nice, being in his arms, but in this situation? It felt live a saving grace.

You woke up, your vision blurred and and the sounds around you muffled under a sharp ringing in your ears. You can't move, the small amount you can making your realize you're tied down, laid against the corner of two walls. You try to focus on the voices, eyes closing.

"You brought an X-Man here?! Are you fucking stupid?!" An unfamiliar voice says, angry.

"It's not just any X-Man, it's... my cher..." Remy says, voice breaking slightly. After a second you hear him scream out in pain, causing you to wake up fully, your eyes wide as you look in the direction.

"Weak... he shouldn't even be able to remember his life before becoming Death!" You see the tall, menacing Apocalypse, his arm turning from some kind of taser to his normal hand. He looks over at you, eyes widening as he sees your awake. "What a surprise, though..." He takes a step towards you.

"N-no, don't!" You say, backing yourself against the corner as the towering monster stands a few feet in front of you. You scream out as he grabs you, taking you across the room and throwing you down once again. You hear a click as something snaps around your neck. Your binds are taken off just to be replaced with the same metal that adorns your neck, pressing you flat against whatever surface you're on.

Your eyes look back at Remy as he stands up, face full of defeat as he looks at Apocalypse. "Sir, I'm sorry-" He starts, cutting himself off as the man looks at him. He backs away, lowering his head. You still can't believe it, Remy's alive, but... not himself, working for Apocalypse.

"Well, now that we have an X-Man... why don't we celebrate? This means we won the fight." The tall, broad creature known as Apocalypse says, voice dark with intent. He looks down at you, a grim smile on his face as he speaks again, "Don't try to do anything, mutant. Your powers are useless with the bindings you're in. If you do, however, there will be punishment."

You don't want to test his words, nodding quickly. Your fear and submission causes the man to laugh, clearly entertained that you're so quick to listen. "It seems Gambit has picked the perfect hostage." Apocalypse chuckles, turning his back to you as he addresses the others in the room. "That does not mean I am not disappointed, though, feeble mutant."

He walks up to Remy, who sits up, eyes shaking as he looks up at the taller man. In a swift movement, Apocalypse grabs him by the throat, causing you to yell out. He brings Remy to eye level before speaking, "If you were not needed for the unstoppable force of the Apocalypse, you'd be dead by my hand. Do you understand, mutant?"

Remy nods, closing his eyes as the other man drops him. You stare at him as he lands on his knees, not fighting back. It was strange to see him so... weak, submitting to the orders of terrible force. It was frightening, even. Remy opened his eyes and looked up at Apocalypse, "Yes, sir."

His voice was just as weak as he looked next to Apocalypse. You could tell by the ways his eyes shifted that he was biting back an insult or some smart alack response. That was until they met yours again, all of the pain in them leaving and being replaced with something much more positive. A love that you'd seen many times before, making you sure that this was in fact your Remy.

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ TENDING TO THEIR INJURIES ( part i. )

ଓ.° ・ thoma ･ itto ･ childe. genshin impact. repost.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ thoma

"i'm okay, i'm okay! i promise."

the way thoma winces when you dress his injuries betrays a forced smile. you study him, brows furrowed in both concern and distress-- concern at his condition, distress at his failed attempts to downplay it.

you want to say a thousand things-- ask him why he's trying to hide the pain, what happened-- but the lump in your throat renders you speechless and the tears that threaten to form shift focus elsewhere. you inhale, shaky-- exhale, and look away from him. he doesn't need another problem-- and it's stupid to cause him worry because you're on the verge of crying.

it's hard to steel yourself when thoma has always been quick to pick up on your emotions and take them to heart. he notices how you struggle to pick up the antiseptic, takes one glance at your face and the way the tears well up, and perhaps that is the most painful of all.

his hands cup your cheeks so gently that you are afraid the tears will spill. how wonderfully loved and safe you feel in his hold.

"please don't cry," thoma reassures you, and you almost think you hear his voice quiver, "please. i'm okay, i really am."

"i'm not." you tell him that, but you are, and now he is, too. you imagine you both look so silly right now, crying and fretting over each other like it's the end of the world. "my allergies are bad."

"oh." thoma laughs through his tears, pinches your cheeks playfully and in meaning of you're okay and so am i. i am grateful. "so are mine."

"we're really bad at lying." you mumble, and he hums in agreement as he kisses your forehead. you place your hands over his, find closure in the idea that he is still with you, here and now. safe.

"thank you for coming back to me." you whisper, and under the stars, thoma presses his lips against yours in need.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ itto

itto, you've come to notice, gets hurt more often than one would think. a daring warrior that throws himself entirely into battle, caution and safety disregarded in the midst of adrenaline rushes. he comes home to you with wounds littered across his body; the cheeky smile on his face that appears at the sight of you almost makes the ache in your heart abate. almost.

he tends to forget about the pain, he tells you, so it's okay. he notices the way your jaw clenches at the sentence, how your words of protest die instantly. something in your chest tightens as if someone wrapped their hand around your heart and squeezed and squeezed until the words of innocence fell on deaf ears. because there are only so many times you can see the love of your life injured, and you are losing count.

how many times have you replayed this act before? an unending cycle of hurt and healing over and over again, the scenes blurred and turned into one. you remember where each scar came from -- how you did everything to ensure his wellness, and how the injuries faded into scars to serve as a reminder.

your fingers brush over the gash on his temple. he winces, slightly, but maybe his pain is insignificant in comparison to what you're feeling.

"please be more careful." you say after a long silence. he nods solemnly, finds that his usual lighthearted words of comfort will not do in this situation.

itto leans forward.

"kiss it better?"

you laugh for the first time that night, indulge in his request. a gentle kiss pressed against his temple and the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist. he holds you closely, apologetic in his touch.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ childe

"i almost think you do this on purpose."

childe grins. you aren't entirely wrong-- but it's not like he tries to get hurt. it's more so that he enjoys the thrill of lethal situations and will jump straight into one for the sake of amusement and the yearning for acknowledgement that he can handle it. that's a bit different, he supposes, but he won't argue.

"i like the attention from you."

"i know you do." comes your flat tone, and you gently tap his chin as if that'll make his grin go away ( surprise: it doesn't ). "have you considered that you could just ask for attention instead of doing...this?"

ah. well, that makes it go away, and now you're faced with a very convincing pout. you sigh; he smiles at your reaction.

he never has the intention of worrying you with small cuts and bruises, not at all. he's completely fine, save for some discomfort and aches here and there, and while he truly does enjoy the attention and care, he's not one to cause you distress on purpose. ( the teasing is fun, though. he can admit that much. )

his expression softens as you inspect the bandage on his arm, fingers sliding down the cloth as a means to make sure it hasn't loosened anywhere. slowly, your hand meets his and he squeezes it tightly in reassurance.

"i'm sorry." his apology is genuine; it always is when this happens. "i'm alright though-- see? nearly at a hundred percent again because of you. couldn't do it without my favorite nurse."

"childe." you poke his forehead with your free hand, but he responds by grabbing it. "if i was your nurse, i would personally fire you."

he's grinning again. how annoying-- is what you want to think, but when he presses kisses against your knuckles, the touch light as a feather but heavy in meaning, you can't help but smile.

--until he talks again.

"you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

"i know. it's annoying."

his laughter rings in the air, and you admit your defeat when you kiss him.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1369

Chapter 40:

You all turned to look at Billy, who grabbed his little spell book from his body bag. "At least we have our personal items."

Immediately, you rushed to check your body bags, all bearing similar expressions of relief by being reunited with your pendants.

You wore your own necklace, the light metal cold against your flushing skin, and adrenaline still coursing through your pumping veins. Your fingers gently brushed the three moon phases, and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

Wearing it, somehow, made you feel more secure and safe; a placebo effect that helped calm you down a little more and allow your head to be clearer.

The moment was interrupted, though by the sound of the morgue drawers being pulled back into place, the knocking sound almost startling you.

If that was not enough, the growing lights above you started to flicker before one shut down.

"The countdown," you exclaimed, eyes following the circle formed by the lights; while wondering how quick each light would turn off after the other.

Deep inside your instincts were telling you that the time would not last long, not as long as the other trials.

Agatha noticed that Jen was rather quiet, not panicking like usual. Instead, Agatha swore Jen was actually thinking of something for a change.

"You seem relaxed." She called her out. "Usually, at this point, you're either complaining loudly or freaking out loudly."

Jen gave her a hard look, clearly not in the mood for her annoying antics. "I'm thinking."

"Oh. About what?

"How to save your ass."

"Pardon?"

"I couldn't save Lilia. I didn't even try to save Alice. I'll be damned if I let you three idiots die."

You placed a hand on your waist as you looked at her, clearly not happy being called an Idiot or any of your companions being called that.

However, you held back any remark for the moment. It was the first time you saw Jen actually putting others above herself, when all those trials she had been selfish and the first to go when given the chance.

And considering you once again needed to work together somehow to make it through, this worked in your favour.

Of course, Agatha did not seem to share your thoughts.

"Wow. Such a purpose. How are you gonna do that without any magic?" She questioned, in the mood for an argument.

"Agatha, that's enough," you said, no authority coming from your voice much to your dismay.

Your body was still on edge, and it was taking a lot of mental training to remain calm and try to think of a solution, rather than letting your emotions and your haunting memories get the best of you.

Thankfully, you were not the only one ready to defend Jen.

"Y/N is right!" Billy said, putting his foot down. "She saved you from poisoning. She saved all of us. All while bound." He looked at Jen and offered a weak smile. "Maybe you don't need it."

Jen wanted to believe him, but she had a hard time too. Not that you blamed her. Your magic might be sort of a curse and a blessing to you, but you can not imagine your life without it.

"Well, if that's true, that means I've wasted the last century of my life." Jen commented. "That doctor in Boston didn't take anything from me. I gave it up."

It was then that you all noticed Agatha fidgeting faintly by tuning her fingers together and avoiding eye contact.

Unlike the others, you knew she acted that way when she knew something but refused to tell. Something that actually made her feel guilty, even slightly.

"Ags," you called her out, but she did not look you in the eyes. "You know something," she was about to argue, but you beat her to it. "I know that face and that fidgeting. I know what it means"

Defeated, Agatha started to throw parts of a story that matched Jen's story, and everyone made the connection.

"I didn't know it was you! It was the 1920s. I did the odd spell for bank notes. I don't know. The patriarchy really shelled out to shush a lady. It was bind or burn!" She justified herself, or so she tried.

For Jen was furious finding out the truth, and she had every right to be. With anger blinding her, she rushed to Agatha and even pulled a thick lock of her hair in one strong pull.

Agatha didn't even flinch at the pull, having built quite a pain tolerance thanks to Rio. She didn't even fight when Jen tied her wrists together with that strand of hair.

She might not react to it, but you were about to. No matter what took place back then, seeing Jen ripping out Agatha's hair like that made your protective instincts hit in.

Forgetting your own anxiety caused by the closed room, you were about to move and tackle Jen; having forgotten your powers worked normally.

Billy grabbed you by the waist and kept you back, surprised by your strength, considering he was taller than you and clearly heavier.

"Wait! Wait! Look!" He told you as he kept pulling you away from the two witches. "Yhe unbinding ritual."

This made you stop your fighting and look, realizing he was right. The strand of hair and the wrapped wrists were the basis for the ritual.

Jen was not trying to harm Agatha, you realized. She was trying to break the binds that kept her magic dormant and get back what was sealed away a century ago.

You calmed down, and Billy let you go. He stood right behind you, and the two of you watched as Jen repeated the same mantra again and again.

You hold nothing.

You hold nothing.

You hold nothing.

Each time that phrase was spoken with more power, with mode determination... with more need to work.

Jen's voice cracked, but she kept going, holding on every beat of hope that was left within her... one last chance to get back what was stolen from her.

In the end, it seemed to work based on Jen's expression.

Her face changed from shock to realisation and she could not help but fall on her knees, arms cradled in front of her chest and let out gasps and faint cries of hapiness; pink magic coming alive from her palms.

The sight broke your heart, seeing how Jen truly felt finally having her magic back.

Magic for witches was their essence, their core, and their will to live. It was part of them and having it sealed away, unable to sense it... to recreate this feeling of power and mysticism that existed within...

It was a fate worse than death.

Suddenly, Jen disappeared right in front of your eyes.

"What?" You exclaimed and rubbed your eyes, fearing your mind was playing tricks with you.

"Where did she go?" Billy asked next.

"Out of here," Agatha replied in a soft tone, deep down actually feeling happiness for Jen; capable of actually taking back what she was looking for.

You frowned. "But we are not done with the trials, yet"

Agatha looked at you, her gaze softening. "She is done with it. Her trial has already passed, and she got what she wanted."

You felt the need to argue but stopped yourself. The Road was a place unknown, and not even you or Agatha or Rio knew much about it. Each time it worked differently, each time seemed to make up something new.

So, who says the trials were not shortened? Or perhaps, it was giving a chance for some to find what they are looking for and be free without having to finish the road.

This was a comforting thought, deep down wanting to end this and get out.

The fact remained, though, how were you going to find what you are looking for? When you pretty much had nothing to work with and unlike Jen; there was no binding whatsoever that could be broken.

Chapter 41

[burningcheese-merchant]

I NEED MORE BURNED CHEESE CONTENT, could you please feed this poor hungry soul some burning cheese kids? Imagine the SUPER protective burn during Golden's pregnancy, or, or helping her with the children's dough (and already planning the next children)

The kids will be here soon, I promise :( they're at school right now, Spice and Golden have to go pick them up. It won't be too long. (I have something important to do irl and that takes priority. I'm hoping I have time at the end of this week to sit down and try to draw them. Everything else is ready, their characters sheets are done, got their whole lives on lock lol. All that's missing is to put them on paper. I only have about half a gram of artistic talent so I'll really be pushing myself here... but I want you all to see them really badly, so I'm happy to do it haha)

I don't have to imagine anything, I'm already there with you, buddy :') I hc them as already married by the time the kids come along, and yeah... Spice is SUPER overprotective lol. Very, very gentle and doting, but fiercely protective and downright hostile towards literally everyone else as a consequence of that protectiveness. He won't leave her side unless absolutely necessary, and he'll be snapping at whoever forced him to leave her and then rushing back to her as soon as he can. (She feels kind of claustrophobic at times, because he literally becomes her shadow during those 9 months lol.) But really, he's at her beck and call from beginning to end. She's craving something? He gets it for her. She's sore? Hugs and massages and nice baths. She's tired? He carries her to bed and doesn't allow anyone to bother her for any reason for the whole rest of the day. She can't sleep? He's up with her all night, talking to her and soothing her and doing whatever he can to lull her back to sleep because she needs all the rest she can get. He's Peak Husband during this time lol.

(He's just... beyond happy. I also hc this as being after Spice has redeemed himself and been accepted back into society, but still not having 100% let go of his dark past (which he never truly will, you can never fully forget something like that, unfortunately). So really, he takes this as one of the greatest rewards for his change of heart that he's ever gotten, and as a sign that he really has become better. The day Golden came to him and told him she was pregnant was the best day of his whole, entire life. He fell to his knees and cried when she told him. Not only has he managed to forsake his destructive nature and instead create something, but he's engaged in the most profound act of creation there is: he helped create a life. And he created this precious life with the woman he loves, who helped kickstart his journey to redemption in the first place. It just shows how far he's come, you know? From a cruel tyrant to a beloved king to two peoples... from a bloodthirsty psychopath destined to live and die alone to a much more even-tempered man who has atoned for his sins and learned to be a good friend and person again, as well as became a beloved husband and father... still a force for destruction, but now in a positive way, not a negative one. It's been a very long road, but it really feels like he reached the end, and this victory is sweeter than any he's had before.)

...And same thing if they're cookies, honestly lol. Peak Husband. Burning Sweetheart Cookie here, jumping for joy when Golden tells him she wants a child. He goes hunting for a Witch Oven of his own accord, going to quite literally every corner of the earth until he finds one, then they go to it and he's just like a kid on Christmas Day lol. They're making the batter together and he's just grinning that big, pointy grin he's got, beaming like the sun. How much of his dough should they mix in? How much of hers? What will happen, what sort of child will they create? Golden thinks he's so cute lol. He won't even sit still while the kid is baking in the oven; if he's not pacing back and forth in anticipation, he's picking Golden up and swinging her around and smothering her with kisses, and going on and on and on about how great the kid will be and how they'll be a fine warrior just like him and Golden. He's yanking the oven door open as soon as that timer goes off and they both hear crying... she has to tell him to slow down so they can both take the baby out together (he was so excited that he was just going to do it by himself lol)

TL;DR: The woobification of Burning Spice Cookie on this blog is complete, he is now Burning Sweetheart Cookie, reformed villain who loves his bird wife and their babies with all of his spicy heart

And to feed you a bit of extra content (and to keep everyone on the edge of their seats), I shall feed you a bit of information about the kiddies:

There are two of them, a son and a daughter. The son is the older one by a few years

I did research and took inspiration from both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for their design and some of their personality traits (I will explain this in detail soon. I actually really enjoyed learning about these religions, even if for a ridiculous reason, and I look forward to rambling about all the little bits and pieces of myths I cobbled together to make these two lol)

Each one resembles a parent quite a bit (but I will not specify which child looks like which parent yet)

One of them has wings like Golden Cheese does

Something really bad happens to the son in the future

Here are their soulstone descriptions, because yes, I really did go above and beyond creating these little guys lol

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. It feels warm and light, like a rare, refreshing breeze on a desert morning... But is that a single grain of self-doubt, nestled deep within its core?"

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. Though it burns very hot and bright, and feels difficult to handle at first, the kindness and unyielding strength resonating from within are nevertheless unmistakable."

[kazumist]

EPISODE 28 ✦ PLEASE LOVE ME AT MY WORST

LOVE, MAYBE — A CHILDE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 1265.

fifteen minutes is almost up; am i about to die?

ajax thoughts wander to all sorts of places as he nervously checks and watches the time move on his wristwatch. as to why he agrees so easily to your request to talk to him—he doesn’t know either. it just felt… right to agree. 

he knows it would pain him to say no to you anyway.

perhaps it was just the small part of him that still hopes. that one little speck in him that hopes this “talk” would mend the rift that had formed between the two of you. it was probably stupid to have such expectations when he was pretty sure you were dead set on your answer to him before.

so it confuses him. why did you want to talk? did you want to just slap it in his face once again? no, you weren’t like that. you would never do something that mean. but that just leads him back to square one: why?

the sound of soft footsteps growing louder alerts ajax, and he takes a deep breath because he knows it’s you. yet he takes a glance to check anyway. there you were, standing before him as he gets the familiar feeling of being starstruck surging through him. keep it together, ajax. he warns himself. 

“hi…” you softly said. 

“hey.”

hey? who the hell says hey nowadays, ajax? get a grip! he mentally scolds himself, forcing him to pull out a tight smile to you instead to save him from his embarrassment. meanwhile, you thought otherwise of his reaction. oh god, he probably hates me. he never gives me that smile. it looks so forced. he probably just felt bad and forced himself to meet me out at this hour. your thoughts ran fast inside your mind as you fiddled with your fingers.

“uhm.. i wanted to talk—”

“so why did you want to meet—”

you both paused when you realized you both spoke at the same time. “you go first,” he insisted. but you gestured otherwise and told him, “oh, it’s fine. you can go.”

“i insist. ladies first?”

seeing as this would go nowhere if you just went back and forth like that, you took a deep breath. 

“i love you.”

for the whole day (and the additional fifteen minutes ajax gave you), you thought of many ways on how to approach childe with the topic of what happened before. yet none of those really started with “i love you." the best option you got after thinking so hard actually started with “i’m sorry.” the “i love you” part was supposed to be near the end of the whole monologue you had prepared inside your head.

ajax only stared at you, dumfounded at your words. “shit, sorry, i—that wasn’t how i wanted to start, uhm—” you let out a sigh, a slightly shaky one at that because of your mistake. don’t fuck up this one up and run away again, (name). you mentally took note. but then again, fuck that monologue you prepared beforehand. if you want to do this properly, then it’s better to do this as bare as your emotions could get, right?

taking another deep breath, you decided to speak up again before ajax could. “i’m going to be honest. i actually prepared some long speech that is supposedly transcribed inside my brain right now. but i definitely think i just forgot a good chunk of that speech now that i’m actually with you.” 

“i’m sorry, ajax. i let my fear get the best of me that day. i never wanted to tell you to go away; in fact, i know that i wanted nothing more than for you to hold me at that moment.” you let out a bitter chuckle at that. ajax watches you, listening to every word carefully. he takes in your appearance as well, and the slightly swollen and redness of your eyes were obvious enough for him to know your state as of late.

“i never wanted to push you away. and god, i feel so stupid and guilty for everything that i said that day. because i know none of those were true. well, i guess minus the part where i listed my flaws... because i know those were true in some sense—but i want to—no, nevermind that. i’m trying to change my ways.” you corrected yourself.

“i asked dehya and the others for some advice. and they were right when they said that you had a positive impact on my life and that i’ve never been this happy with someone else other than them. because i swear, you’re just a different case for me, ajax. you make me happy in ways i never thought anyone could bring me joy. when i thought i didn’t have anyone by my side, you were there for me.”

“and i feel so, so, so fucking stupid for shutting you away that day. because deep inside, i knew my heart wanted otherwise. my brain wanted you to leave me alone, but i knew my heart wanted for you to stay. for you to tell me that everything is alright.”

“i guess the main gist of everything that i’m saying is that i love you; i’m sorry. i love you, ajax. and i know i’m probably late, and that you probably hate me right now, and also how you probably just forced yourself outside just so you could meet up with me, but i love you. this whole thing is honestly still scary to me, considering this is the first time i have experienced this in my whole lifespan of eighteen years right now.”

“yet i still love you despite that. i’m sorry that it took me a while. and again, you don’t have to reciprocate it—i just wanted to let this all out. and like i said, you probably hate me—”

“am i allowed to speak now?” ajax.

“i—yeah, go ahead.”

“have i told you that i’m so proud of you?” he asks. you don’t know where he’s going with this. “you might’ve mentioned it once or twice in the past, yeah.” he chuckles at your reply. it feels like your walking on thin ice because you really have no idea if he’s about to drop a bomb right now about him rejecting you.

you don’t think you could handle that anyway.

“thank you, (name). i personally didn’t know what to expect with what you were going to say. but i  don’t hate you. i could never hate you. not now, not ever. hell, i knew that if i said no to your request of having a talk i would definitely regret it. and i’m proud of you that you managed to say all of that. learning how to communicate is a big step already, you know?”

ajax takes a step closer and you didn’t take a step back this time. you let him get close to you this time, fixing the distance that grew after you pushed him away. “and for the record, i love you too” he says, a bit more quietly, as if he really wants only you to hear those words coming from him. “that fact isn’t going to change anytime soon, silly.” 

“i’m sorry again. but i’m ready now. i’m prepared to take a risk in this whole thing they call love. so please love me at my worst, ajax.”

the night ends with ajax walking you home once again—but this time there wasn’t a single residue of the bitterness from before.

this time, it was filled with relief.

extra notes.

yayyyy!!! communication!!!!

i didn't expect for this episode to be so long. i was 700+ words in when i realized that it was going to be a bit lengthy.

taglist (open): @xianyoon @mitsvriii @kizakiss @kissingkzuha @aethion @phtogravi @ell1e2010 @esthelily @b4tm4nn @hcmay @ivvieene @morganadorodo @kaitfae @kentply @scaranthropy @kyon-cherri @kookiibun @kochothehoe @mekiiiii @ibyobi @iuspired @tetsuskei @kunikuzushis-darling @morgyyyyyyy @chluuvr @scaradooche @kissmiere @a1-ic3 @bubblegum-angelquartz @tiredjxnna @levlucs-kiru @angeilix @cerisescherries @saeskiss @a-talkative-corn @briluvspnk @kamisatoyato @bbysatoruuu @viviixoxosblog @bambisz @chemiru @eternal-dokja @bflyprincess @jamieexistss @monocerosei @enjisthings @jangyung @hahalame @cupid-spams @snzhrchy @ukinya @luciledreamz @bisatanica @bananasquash @almond-t0fu @thegalaxyisunfolding @jaguarthecat [1/2]

[i-do-not-even-know-why]

Some people were talking about Vi's "hypocrisy"...

(Spoilers below. Read at your own risk.)

And nope. Those are lies. Slander. And here are receipts proving the same...

Saw a few folks calling Vi a hypocrite because she prevented Caitlyn from taking the shot at Jinx. Since there was a kid in the way. Even though, APPARENTLY, Vi was all for it during season one when Jayce was concerned.

Jayce didn't want to kill the boy. He was aiming for someone else. The shot hit the little man because Jayce didn't even notice him there. He thought there was no one in the way.

That's why it hurts so much. That's why it stings and breaks Jayce's resolve. That's why he is disillusioned. He just wanted to do magic. Make the world a little better than before. And instead, he is now playing politician and soldier. And claiming lives.

This is Jayce's reaction when he sees the boy who died because of him...

And this is Vi, realising how much it's affecting him...

It's the intent that matters here.

Jayce didn't mean for the blow to land on the boy. If he knew the kid was there, Jayce wouldn't have taken the shot.

Caitlyn on the other hand wanted to shoot at Jinx while knowing Isha was in the way. She wanted to do it despite a kid literally acting as a human shield for Jinx.

I don't care how great of a shot Caitlyn is. When you risk a child's life, even if it is for the greater good, that's already taking it too far. And considering the fact that Vi clocked Caitlyn going in for the kill, you really think Isha wouldn't have?!

Once the bullet is out, no one can control it. Not even Caitlyn. And that very well could have led to Isha's death.

That kid wants Jinx around. And she is willing to die in the process.

Another point to note is the context.

Vi and Jayce were trying to dismantle the distribution of Shimmer. And when Jayce saw what it took, he pulled away. Vi didn't want to.

Silco's death was important to her. But it was now even more imperative because a kid died in the process. His demise would have been in vain if they didn't finish what they set out to do.

Vi and Jayce almost come to blows over it. And once Jayce lets her keep the gauntlets and walks away, there is Vi mourning the needless loss of a life...

I don't really understand what part of all this is hypocritical on Vi's end.

In the first instance, the kid had already died. In the second, Vi was making sure that didn't happen again.

And you know what? Even if it was hypocrisy, people are allowed to alter their motivations and decisions in the face of such fucked up and traumatic experiences.

Or in general, even! That's essentially the whole point. It's the push and pull of everyday occurences which help us evolve. Either for the better, or the worse.

Here's Jayce. Broken over the life he took...

Vi sees it. And of course she wouldn't want for it to happen to someone else. Especially Caitlyn.

Vi knows Cait is not the kind of person who would go through with it in her right mind. And that's the thing. She isn't in her right mind. Grief has overtaken her and now she will make sure it becomes everyone else's problem.

Also, if not being hypocritical is so important to you... How can you still stand with Caitlyn? What she is doing goes against not only who she is as a person, but also what she set out to do.

And that's the kicker, isn't it? Change is the whole point. They are undergoing tremendous amounts of irrevocable damage that will leave lasting impressions.

Caitlyn is so blinded by her desire for revenge that she doesn't even register any remorse. She is adamant on going after Jinx, no matter the cost. Even when it's at her own expense.

And for the people limiting Caitlyn's arc to nothing more than a sexy lady telling the world to go to hell...

Please open your eyes, or at least allow the others, to understand the layers of oppression she represents now. Not only to Zaun and the people of the Undercity, whose only fault was being born in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also for Vi.

That blorbo has gone through so much already. And obviously she has made mistakes. The whole premise of the show revolves around this facet. 'Cause that's what people do.

However, it's how you deal with it that counts more. And maybe it's just me, but holding your favourite characters and people accountable does not really lessen your love for them. Being blind in your devotion will definitely. 'Cause the disillusionment which follows is not pretty.

Know that I don't mean to offend anyone. Nor do I wish to criticize your perspective. If you feel attacked by my points because you made a joke or something over the issues I talked about here, that's not my fault. Nor my intent. Don't take it personally.

At the end of the day, it's just a show. You do you. I just cannot sit back when people spread misinformation or make baseless ignorant comments that are NOWHERE close to the truth.

It just takes a few minutes to fact check yourself. Seconds even, if you know how to do it. Maybe it's my fault for expecting better.

Anywho, that's it on this from me. Enjoy the show! And live and let live!!!

[lover-of-mine]

what are your thoughts on nde for either eddie or buck in 8x08? me personally, im thinking buck is gonna get the nde, and i think he’s gonna be shot. tim recreating s4/5 when he originally wanted to do buddie, but what im thinking, is buck realizes his feelings for eddie but doesn’t want to/doesn’t know if he should tell him, then he gets shot and it’s all dramatic and eddie is there and freaking out, trying to save him and keep him alive (aka why they’re pushing medic eddie so much this season) and buck realizes this might be his last chance so he just goes for it anyway and while he’s bleeding out he tells eddie he loves him😭 i know this is probably not what’s gonna happen but lol i just enjoy theories and i always love to hear what you think!

adding onto this, i ALSO saw around twitter the theory that buck would get a nde, but he gets hit by a car or just in a car accident in general, and eddie is there and it parallels shannon’s death (obviously buck doesn’t die but you get the memo😆)

Hi, darling! Okay, I don't mean to shit on anyone's specs, but I think either of them getting shot again would be so uninspired. The show is slowly reintroducing new ways to pull the triggers they put down for buddie because they need to address the stuff that happened to them somehow, but a direct mirrored parallel to the shooting wouldn't work as well as everyone seems to think it would. Partially because I think that forcing Buck to confess because he (or Eddie) is dying is yet another way to take away Buck's agency and further attach Buck to the idea he's only worthy of love when someone bleeds. But also because putting one of them in the position to be doing the saving again won't really further their storyline. Eddie watched Buck in a nde twice, the bombing and the lightning, and Buck watched Eddie in a nde twice, the well and the shooting, and I think they need a combined trigger, aka a combined nde.

I am attached to my drown Buck theory, have them off duty, crash the car, end up trapped and the car filling with water, but I also think that the trapped dads theory also works a lot here, especially if you put them both in the situation while off duty, aka without gear or backup, and you can play with a lot of elements of every nde before that and create a catalyst for them to talk and figure themselves out. I also think everyone is getting ahead of themselves, I don't think they are in the place to get that catalyst yet, and 2 episodes are not enough to get them there when we are talking about an ensemble show. I feel like people are expecting a direct callback because we got a well callback and are getting a lightning callback, but while buddie was front and center during the well callback, they actually used it to further Chim at first. It works to get the audience thinking about different aspects of their past, which in turn makes it so that when they talk about it, it will be in our minds, but it doesn't explicitly address the implications with buddie. I think the lightning callback will be a lot about reminding Buck of whatever it was that he was supposed to learn with it the first time around that they never truly explored due to the network switch and Natalia not coming back. I also think that confronting the situation where Buck almost died and possibly watching a freshly heartbroken Buck be impulsive can push Eddie to look at some stuff that would push him into action to figure himself out.

Especially if @stagefoureddiediaz ends up right and the lightning callback ends up being a truck bombing callback too since the well callback is also a subtle callback to the kids on the cliff call in 304 and could be played into different directions when it comes to what comes out from it moving forward. Buddie has a lot to talk about, but they need a reason to think about the stuff they need to talk about on their own before getting to a point where they can actually have those conversations. I think they rely too much on how well they understand each other that they fail to consider the way they can't actually read each other's minds, and figuring that part out is important before pushing them to the catalyst. And please don't get me wrong, I'm like, 90% sure that the catalyst will be another nde, I just don't think it's gonna happen until 8b.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Epilogue

Masterpost Read on AO3

AU Summary: the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is heading to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is CAPCOM at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: We made it. Thank you a million times over to every single one of you who has engaged with this story. It means a lot to have you along for the ride.

---

Something funny happens when you fly faster than the speed of sound, nothing but a hunk of metal separating you from the sky. Time doesn’t seem to work right anymore; everything can move slow and fast all at once. You take a breath. It feels peaceful, somehow. Sacred. 

Even when you pull so many Gs that it presses a stone to your chest and strangles your lungs until they burn, as long as you can push through the tunnel vision and the dizziness, suddenly everything becomes clearer. Perspective, some might say. Others just call it exhilaration. Freedom. The feeling of being alive.

Bucky Egan is seriously addicted to that feeling. For months now, he’s gone without it. He spends more time than he should standing out at JSC’s Ellington Field, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as other astronauts perform flight tests and training exercises overhead. He listens to the rumbling sounds of the jets, wondering if he’ll ever be up there again. Free.

A jet, a prop plane, a space capsule. He’d take any one of them, really, if he can’t have all of them anymore. 

Some things are written in stone. Bucky knew seemingly out of the womb that he wanted to fly. He wouldn’t settle for anything else, wouldn’t settle at all. He was going to become an Air Force pilot, and then – once he learned that there were real people flying aboard something called the Space Station, orbiting around the planet 16 times per day – he was going to become an astronaut. From the very second he even knew it was an option, he wanted his feet to be off of this Earth. He wanted to feel what it felt like. He wanted to see what it looked like. He wanted to hear what it sounded like. 

He wanted all of it, and he never much minded the risk. Flight, after all, was his first love, and Bucky Egan will do just about anything for what he loves. A part of him always figured, if he had to die, he wanted it to be in the sky. If he had to die, it would be worth it, as long as flight was what claimed his life. Commit his soul to the stars, a supernova in the dark.

But then, of course, there was Gale. 

The night they met, two young boys standing awkwardly in a college dorm, Gale told Bucky that he didn’t intend to be an astronaut. He had Bucky wrapped around his finger from that very first smile, but he wanted to become an engineer for the Air Force. Maybe, if he got lucky, work his way into NASA’s space program. Someone back home to keep his feet on the ground may have done John Egan some good. But, in the end, it was him that looked at Gale and told him that all of that was bull. It was Bucky that pulled him along with strings tied to their hearts, convinced him to just give it all a shot – what’d he have to lose? And here he is, nearly two decades later, an everyday flyboy.

This life they’ve built, orbiting one another like a binary star system, is greater than any adventure Bucky ever could have imagined. The way he’s lived it, he figures he’s lucky he’s made it as far as he has. He’s lucky to be alive after that little stunt on the moon. He’s lucky to have the most amazing husband this side of the universe. He’s damn lucky for all of it. Maybe he’s a fool to ask for more.

But he’s not ready to keep his feet on the ground.

Not yet.

—

July 17, 2026 Houston, TX

Admittedly, this was maybe not Bucky’s brightest plan, taking a video call in the dimly lit Orion cabin, where he has to lay on his back, legs elevated, staring up at a brightly lit screen. He can feel a bit of a headache coming on, and he isn’t sure if the vague throbbing in his leg is real or just a figment of his haywire imagination. He might be losing feeling in his feet; he isn’t really sure. Is he setting himself up for failure? Maybe. This afternoon he needs to be in top form, or at least as close to it as he can get. But he’s committed now, and he’s too stubborn to move.

So here he is in the mock-up, like any other mission sim, tucked into his commander’s seat. Or, really, he supposes it’s Gale’s now. The Artemis 4 crew has been doing their fair share of sims in recent months, and Gale has been pulling longer and longer hours as they get closer to launch, as Bucky needs him at his side less and less.

Maybe that’s exactly why Bucky’s sitting here now. To feel close to his husband during a time when their careers, as usual, tend to pull them apart. Or maybe he’s sitting here because he needs the reminder, a silent dedication to who he is, what he’s meant to be doing, what he so badly needs to keep striving for.

Or maybe, he’s only sitting here because the seat of a cockpit is always where he’s felt the safest.

Safe isn’t the right word. 

In control, maybe. Most like himself. A cockpit is always where he’s best understood the world around him: sky above, Earth below, his heart strangled with a love for the unknown. The Orion capsule is another home to him. Things might go wrong – sometimes horribly, horribly wrong – but everything about it was constructed and tested with the singular goal of helping Bucky and his crew break boundaries, make history. Every single thing about it is so specific, so familiar, so carefully planned and crafted. John Egan knows this spacecraft better than he knows himself. In the chaos that is his life, it’s the capsule that carried him away from this planet that best keeps him grounded.

So he sits, laying on his back in the commander’s seat that once was his and is now Gale’s. He doesn’t really remember the process of getting here, but he remembers the intense need to be here, like he didn’t have a single other choice. When he first answered Gale’s video call, his husband stared at him for a long moment, then laughed and said something about “only John Egan has an emotional support spacecraft.” He didn’t say anything about how strange it is, considering Bucky almost died in this spacecraft. Maybe, in some weird, fucked up, convoluted way that he’ll have to talk to his therapist about later, that’s one reason he finds being in this tiny space so reassuring.

He’s not a psychologist. He’s hardly even an astronaut.

In any case, fully convinced that this was exactly where he needed to be to call his husband today – a day that has his nerves all shaken up like a can of soda – he duct taped his phone to the console above his head so that he can look at Gale without having to hold it up above his face the whole time. It fell and smacked him squarely on the nose once at the beginning of the call, but it’s been holding well enough since then. 

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been talking. Surely it’s been longer than they’d scheduled for, and someone’s gotta be looking for him by now, grabbing onto unassuming JSC employees and asking in a mild panic “Have you seen Major Egan?” Gale’s crew is no doubt waiting for him, too, perhaps just out of view of the camera, reminding him that they have to get started on some task or another. A part of Bucky feels guilty for holding Gale up for so long, but the rest of him needs this desperately.

This is the first time since Bucky splashed down in the Pacific last November that they’ve been apart for more than even a day. Scratch that, for more than 12 hours. Gale has stayed at his side, for better or worse, since the night he first laid eyes on Bucky again in the hospital. It feels like forever ago, and yet it feels like yesterday. Sometimes Bucky still wakes up convinced he’s dying, convinced that his hands don’t work, phantom pain burning through his leg, unable to speak. 

It was a long winter, and a long spring. Bucky has gaps admittedly, times when the brain fog whisked him away from reality, made it hard to stay in the moment, hard to figure out what was real. It all but disappeared with time, thankfully. He still has a moment here and there, especially when he first wakes up or if he’s stressed or nervous (not that he’ll admit to anyone but Gale that he’s even capable of being nervous), but they’re becoming less and less common.

Getting that leg to heal was a complete bitch. Turns out micro- and zero-gravity aren’t very kind to broken bones. Eventually the cast came off, and he progressed to a brace, walking with a cane, slowly, slowly working toward walking on his own again.

Gale was there the whole time. Holding him up, steadying him, cheering him on, taking the brunt of Bucky’s frustration and fear. No matter how many times Bucky lost his temper or wanted to give up or refused to get out of bed or go to PT or OT or his CT scans, Gale stayed. Gale didn’t give up on him. Gale loved him through it all.

It’s July now. Almost eight whole months since Bucky fell to this Earth, broken and barely breathing under a bright Pacific sky. It’s the dog days of summer, long and hot and busy as ever here at JSC. Gale has been gone for six whole days, training in Iceland with the Artemis 4 crew. Weirdly enough, the volcanic, rocky landscape of Iceland’s arctic desert is a perfect training ground for astronauts headed to the moon, and it has acted as such since the Apollo days. With Artemis in full swing, NASA has started sending the lunar crews out there again to conduct simulated missions that mimic what they’ll be faced with on the lunar surface.

Bucky misses those days, training and bonding with his crew – his best friends – as they bounded across the dark, eerie Icelandic rock in fake moon gear, out of their minds with excitement for what they were training to do. He’s spent much of this video call asking Gale about Iceland and their simulated missions, half wanting to relive it and half hoping maybe Gale would forget why Bucky wanted to call so bad in the first place. He can see on Gale’s face that he’s failing.

Sure enough, after indulging him for longer than Bucky honestly expected, Gale sighs and tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. “How do you feel?”

Bucky doesn’t quite know what Gale means when he asks this. The implications have changed so much over the years. 

In college, he’d ask Bucky How do you feel? when he woke up with a hangover after a night of drinking too much with their friends. Or that time he got terribly sick in the middle of midterm season and shoved through a Statics exam with a fever. When he pulled an all-nighter trying to finish a class project. When he passed Thermo by the skin of his teeth. From the first day of classes to the day they graduated.

How do you feel?

As young adults in the Air Force, or at NASA, he’d ask Bucky how he felt before going up for a mission or a training exercise. Or after survival training in the desert, wandering to the finish line dehydrated and sunburnt but alive and ahead of the rest of their astronaut class. He’d ask him after long training days or messy flights or after they’d been apart for days, weeks, months. He asked him when they both sat, shell-shocked, after losing a friend in the flames of a crash landing. How do you feel?

Before their wedding day, when Bucky was terrified of their future but knew without a doubt this was everything he ever wanted, Gale asked him, How do you feel?

During quarantine. Before the launch. On the pad. How do you feel?

Every day over CAPCOM or video call. Even when Bucky couldn’t hear him, couldn’t say anything back. How do you feel?

When Bucky came home, Gale would ask him that question several times a day. It was tough; there’s no use lying. There were times Bucky wanted to give up, couldn’t bring himself to leave the house or do much of anything. It was painful and it was confusing and it was messy, and sometimes all Bucky could do was stew in silence or, once or twice, tell Gale to fuck off. But every time his awareness drifted or he had to be moved with his bum leg, every time he woke up in pain or had to be left alone for any period of time, Gale, his voice gentle and concerned and so full of love, would ask him, How do you feel?

So what does he mean now?

Bucky doesn’t know how he feels. He should feel good. Excited. It’s about damn time this day came around. He’s John fucking Egan, not afraid of anything, born for the sky. He should feel as sure of himself as the day he climbed aboard the SLS.

So why doesn’t he?

He is excited. Don’t get him wrong. He’s been waiting for this since he woke up in a Houston hospital. But there’s a pit in his stomach and a weird, fluttery feeling in his chest and a weight settling over his shoulders that he can’t seem to shake.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel. He wants it to be the same as it was before. But it isn’t. It can’t be. 

Not anymore. 

“I’m fine.”

Gale frowns in that concerned, knowing way that he does. He looks so soft now, comfy in Bucky’s Yankees sweatshirt with his hair messy, no doubt fresh from debriefing after a ‘mission’ or about ready to get prepped for another. But Bucky squirms and looks away from his gaze; it sees right through him. It always has. 

“Try again,” Gale insists.

“I’m…” Bucky feels a weird phantom twinge in his leg. Blinks and it goes away. He rolls his eyes. At the question? At himself? Get it together. “I’m fuckin’ nervous,” he admits uncomfortably. “Of course I’m fuckin’ nervous, Buck. What if I get out there and…”

What if I get out there and I can’t do it anymore? What if I can’t handle it? Physically. Mentally. What if today just proves what we were all so worried about months ago: Bucky Egan is grounded. For good. 

“Fuck.” He can’t say any of it, can’t risk speaking the death of his career into existence. The melodramatic part of him thinks the bugler might as well start playing Taps right damn now if today doesn’t go his way. Fold up a flag and present it to Gale as the jets fly overhead.

He can only imagine the way Gale would frown and grit his teeth if Bucky said such a thing out loud.

His husband full well knows what Bucky means, though, and he’s quiet, thinking it over. Bucky can see half formed placations tumbling through his head like desperate dreams running on fumes. But eventually, he says, “it’s gonna be okay, John.” His voice is careful and easy, and he doesn’t even sound like he’s faking it. 

It makes Bucky’s heart clench.

“Gale,” he whispers, and he hates how vulnerable his voice sounds. It rings in his ears, echoing back and forth and back and forth as he roughly scrubs a hand over his eyes, squeezing them shut tight. 

He’s always felt most in control inside of a cockpit. He knows the way an aircraft moves better than he knows anything or anyone on this Earth, except maybe his husband. Flight makes him know who he is, gives him his metaphorical wings. And yet he’s also never felt more out of control than he has in a cockpit. 

If he goes up there, he has no idea what’ll happen. He has no idea what his body will do when it gets crushed into the seat by several times the force of gravity. He has no idea if the thing that used to lift him up will carry him again, or if it’ll spit him onto the ground in a pathetic heap of has-been.

So how is he supposed to feel right now?

Starbursts of pain color Bucky’s vision. Skull-splitting. All-consuming. It’s burning him alive from the inside out like a physical force trying to rip him apart. He thinks falling into a black hole would hurt less.

He feels sick. The G forces are too much.

He can’t think a coherent thought that isn’t something along the lines of ‘please make it stop.’ Somewhere, deep in his brain that won’t work, he hates himself for that. Knows he should be better.

And out of all of that – this crushing, crunching, nausea-inducing pain that has Curt yelling at him not to throw up in his suit – the words that pop up into his head like a cartoon thought bubble are “the Big Crunch.” 

It’s Gale’s favorite theory for how the universe might end. Because Gale is a space physics nerd that has a favorite theory for how the universe might end.

It’s like the opposite of the Big Bang – an exploding outward from an infinitesimal point, 0 to 73.3 kilometers per second per megaparsec in about a trillionth of a second flat. The Big Crunch would be an imploding inward, a collapsing into a single infinitesimal point at a similarly impossible to comprehend rate. Theoretically, this point could be anywhere in the universe.

John wonders if that would feel something like how he feels – crunching, disconnecting, reconnecting, blinding, unbearable. He sort of wishes it would just happen right now, with that point somewhere in this spacecraft. He’ll take the whole universe down with him. He doesn’t really mind, if it’ll make this stop.

“Gale?” He finds himself crying out the only word he can get past his lips. The only word that matters. The only word that can come remotely close to making any of this better. 

“Gale?”

Why won’t it work? Why won’t Gale save him?

He’s getting more desperate. Please. 

“Gale?”

“John? You with me?”

Bucky blinks. He looks back at his phone, sees Gale’s face, all worried and shit. It makes his heart sink, because Gale’s been looking at him like that a lot in recent months. Today is a big day, and Bucky knows Gale is worrying he won’t be able to handle it. He also knows that Gale feels guilty for worrying he can’t handle it. 

But Bucky’s worried, too.

“I wish you were here.” He says these words so quietly he isn’t sure Gale will hear them. He isn’t sure he wants Gale to hear them. He looks away from the phone as he says it, feeling too vulnerable and too raw on this day when he’s supposed to be Major John Egan: cool, cocky, composed. 

He can pretend for everyone else. Everyone besides Gale. He’ll tell them that he’s ready, even if he isn’t.

He won’t ever be ready until he does it anyway.

The lights are dim around him. In the glow of the console in front of his face, he strokes his fingers gently over the tactile buttons beside the screen. They feel so familiar; he thinks he could press one with his eyes closed and know exactly what it would do.

“I wish I was, too.” Gale’s voice comes back soft and real, bringing Bucky’s attention back to his phone screen. The way Gale’s face is so open and genuine – so unlike what the rest of the world gets to see of him, with a crooked half-smile half-frown accentuating the mix of emotions in his eyes, wide and searching Bucky’s for some answer he doesn’t have – makes Bucky want to pull him through the screen and hug him tight.

He wants Gale to hug him tight. He wants Gale to pull his feet back down to this planet and tell him he’s safe and protect him from everything that has hurt him so badly. He wants Gale to make sure the stars keep burning at night and the world keeps turning and the darkness doesn’t swallow them whole. He wants Gale to quiet the buzzing in his brain and the ringing in his ears. The little voice that’s telling him he can’t do it, can’t do any of it. He wants Gale to come home right damn now and make all of it go away.

But Gale won’t do that. Because he knows that, right this very moment, Bucky needs to climb the rest of the way up this mountain. He needs to stand at the top himself in order to understand that he can do it, he can make it. Gale can’t do anything but stand beside him.

“Do you think I’m ready?” Bucky asks. He says it with a mindless air, looking away as he traces his thumb over the bottom of the console, but there’s a jagged edge to his voice that gives him away. He doesn’t know if he wants Gale’s reply. There was a time when it didn’t matter what anyone else thought – even Buck. Bucky Egan would do what Bucky Egan wanted to do, whatever he convinced himself he was capable of doing.

Some things change. Sometimes forever, and sometimes only for a moment.

He makes tentative eye contact with his husband through the screen. Gale nods – a curt, somewhat hesitant little thing. “Maybe,” he says honestly. “You’re ready to at least try. But if it doesn’t go the way you want it to, you just keep workin’, and you’ll try again. You’re Bucky Egan. Nothing can keep your feet on the ground forever.”

Bucky is about to say something snarky and maybe self-deprecating back, but before he can, there’s a voice in the background of Gale’s side of the call. His eyes widen and he looks off screen, putting a hand up to whoever was trying to get his attention. He looks back at Bucky and sighs. “I gotta go, darlin’. You’ll be alright, hear me?”

Bucky forces a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, obviously.”

“I love you,” Gale says, shoving every bit of adoration he has into those words, and Bucky wants to bottle it up somehow, hold onto it for when he needs a reminder. 

“I love you, too,” he says. 

The corner of Gale’s mouth lifts into a shy smile. “Ad lunam, ad astra,” he says, and then he’s gone.

Alone again, Bucky reaches up to turn off his phone, and he lets his hand fall down to rest over his chest. He rubs his thumb over his wedding band, twists it around and around his finger. “Ad lunam, ad astra,” he whispers to himself. 

When the master alarm starts blaring through the cabin seconds later, red lights flashing in Bucky’s eyes, his heart rate shoots up as he instinctively starts thinking through every single thing that could possibly be wrong. His eyes scan the console in front of him, searching for system statuses that aren’t there, and he blinks in confusion before he shakes his head, remembering that he isn’t in a training exercise. Someone’s tracked him down. 

He turns off the alarm and lets silence fill the cabin again. 

“You know, when you said you were gonna find somewhere quiet to flirt with your husband, we thought you meant your office or a shady tree or somethin’.” 

Bucky turns his head awkwardly to see Rosie outside, his head ducked down to peek through the hatch at him.  

“It was quiet before you came and scared me half to death,” Bucky retorts. He reaches up and rips his duct taped phone off the console, picking the tape off and rolling it into a ball. 

“If that scares you, you’re in the wrong place,” Rosie quips. He freezes, just for a second, his eyes going that little bit wider, and Bucky sees the moment he realizes what he said. A harmless joke. A truth, if nothing else. Something that would’ve made Bucky throw a meaningless little insult right back at him a year ago. 

Everyone’s been walking on eggshells for a while now. No one would dare even insinuate that John Egan doesn’t belong here, especially not while he’s working so hard to claw his way back. 

But he takes Rosie’s words for what they are, rolls his eyes, and brushes a hand back through his hair. “If you ain’t a little scared you’re doin’ it wrong. Or you’re crazy.”

Rosie lets himself smile, shaking his head, and he crawls in through the hatch. He pulls himself into the seat beside Bucky, where Curt would usually sit. Bucky sticks the tape ball to his shoulder, and Rosie grabs it, shoves it into his pocket before Bucky can bug him with it any more. 

“Man, can you believe we spent weeks cramped up in this thing?” he muses, his eyes skimming over the industrial walls of the tapered conical cabin. He’s talking about the real Orion capsule, not to mention the hundreds of hours logged in this very simulator. 

Bucky glances around. This glorified minivan of a spacecraft is the stuff of his childhood dreams, like something straight from science fiction. “We’re astronauts, Rosie,” he points out, as if he doesn’t wonder every day how he managed to make it this far. “I can’t believe we left the planet at all.” Rosie scoffs, and they share a look, like neither of them are certain anything that’s happened in the last year was real. 

Bucky shakes his head, adding, “not like we ain’t used to it.”

“At least on the station we got more than one cramped space.”

Bucky doesn’t ask the question that surges through his brain at the mention of the station: Do you think I’ll ever go back? He isn’t ready for the answer. And he doesn’t want to hear ‘I don’t know’ or ‘Of course you will’ or ‘You’re John Egan, you can do anything.’

John Egan couldn’t sign his own name with a pen a few months ago.

Instead he looks over at the fake window on the side of the fake capsule, assessing the distance from it to him. It’s so close. “Felt like that window was a world away during the return trip.” He remembers being led over to it. The feeling of Beary Egan’s fur between his fingers. The throbbing in his head. The unbearable burning in his leg. The nausea in his stomach. Everything spinning around him.

But out the window, stars. So many stars. And he was going to get to them one way or another.

Rosie looks at the window, then back at Bucky. The crew physician remembers all of it, all too well. Part of him wishes he could forget the worst parts, but another part of him feels a need to be the keeper of those memories. He thanks the universe everyday for guiding all of them home. “Everything seems further away when your body doesn’t know if it’ll make it to tomorrow.”

They’re quiet for a long time, just two crew members in a capsule mock-up. It has snapshot memories flashing through Bucky’s mind, and he rubs his thumb over his wedding ring again to ground himself. He thinks about Rosie’s words. “I made it,” he whispers. 

“Yeah,” Rosie agrees. “Yes you fuckin’ did.”

It’s a truth that John has been trying to remind himself of every single day for months. He made it; he’s alive. 

But is that enough?

What do you do when the best experience of your life was also your worst? What do you do when the thing you love nearly killed you? What do you do when all is said and done, when there’s nothing left to do but forgive, even though you will never, ever be able to forget?

What do you do when the universe tries to strip away your identity, leaving nothing but a trembling shell, the pieces strewn about for you to pick up one by one?

You rebuild yourself, step by step. And what do you do when the edges don’t fit anymore, rough corners scrubbing at wounds that won’t heal, nothing but sheer grit and determination gluing you together?

Is it enough? Do the pieces fit well enough for you to be whole again? Will time sand away the jagged edges, sew together the messy seams? Pieces lost and pieces gained, and all you can do is search in the dark for who you were and who you thought you were and who you still can be. 

And you wonder, is it enough?

Bucky holds his hand up in front of his face. Out in zero G, there’s no up or down. You’re weightless, every part of you. Holding your hand up in the air takes no more effort than holding it out to the side or down or back or forward. On Earth, though, there’s good old gravity. 9.8 meters per second squared. 32 feet per second per second. A reliable force keeping your heels on the ground so you don’t just float away. With the way Orion’s seats are oriented, Bucky and Rosie lay on their backs, staring up at the tapered ceiling of the capsule and the screens set up in front of their faces.

Here on Earth, holding his hand up in front of his face takes effort. He’s not weightless down here, and as he experimentally pinches his fingers together, he watches the way they shake.

He bites his lip, takes a breath, closes his eyes. He doesn’t open them.

Gale once told him about the conversations he had with Dr. Huston – the fear that even if Bucky even made it home, he may never be the same. Now he wonders if that fear came true. Is he the same? Will he be the same? He doesn’t know.

He wonders if Gale does. He wonders what Gale sees now, when he looks at him.

He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter.

Ad lunam. Ad astra.

“You’re gonna be fine, John.” Rosie’s voice cuts through the ringing in Bucky’s ears, quieting it. “This is what you’re meant to do.”

Bucky swallows thickly, willing his voice not to come out a strangled mess. “What if… what if I’m not anymore? What if it doesn’t come back like it’s s’posed to?”

“You’ve been training.”

“What if I never...”

“Take a breath.”

Bucky does. There’s no room for panic. No room for doubt. Just him and the sky. 

“Open your eyes.”

When Bucky releases himself from the darkness, his hand is perfectly still in front of him. He straightens his fingers, bends them again, straightens them. They don’t shake.

“You’re ready, John.”

—

The sun is bright over Ellington Field late that afternoon, and Bucky pushes his aviators up the bridge of his nose. He tugs at the collar of his flight suit as he strides down the runway, adjusting it beneath the straps of his parachute pack, and he squares his shoulders, lifting his chin. He feels the hard pavement beneath his boots, hears the beat of his footsteps. The ground crew waits for him.

When he stops in front of the Northrop T-38 Talon, he squints against the light reflecting off its sleek white side, and he feels his breath catch in his throat at the sight of this beautifully engineered machine that will launch him into the blue. He curls his fingers into a fist, spreads them out wide, and slowly, steadily, he presses his hand to the nose of the jet standing in front of him, just waiting to come to life. The T-38 jet trainers are used by NASA for training exercises and keeping the astronaut corps’ flying skills up to par. He knows this aircraft as well as he knows Orion, but he hasn’t flown it since last July, a whole year ago now. 

“Hey there,” he whispers, letting his eyes roam over it – the fuselage, the engines, the wings, the tail, the wheels. A beautiful bird. It was designed long before Bucky was even born, but it doesn’t look it. “Long time no see.”

“Worried she won’t remember you?”

As Bucky’s eyes stay trained on the ground, studying the wheels, his hand still pressed to the nose, he feels someone else’s presence at his side. He looks up, pulling his hand away. Curt’s there, watching him with a teasing smile on his face. He’s wearing the same gear as Bucky: blue NASA flight suit, G-suit, parachute pack, a helmet tucked under his arm. His other hand grips the shoulder strap of his harness.

“Not one bit,” Bucky replies.

Curt chuckles and pulls Bucky into a tight one-armed hug, as if they haven’t seen each other in months even though Curt makes a point out of bugging him every day. “You ready?” he asks when he pulls away.

Bucky nods and grins in that wild, daring way, as if he hasn’t had a single doubt this whole time. As if he wasn’t just freaking out to Gale and Rosie over what he’s about to do. He brushes his hair back and gazes at the jet again. “Let’s see how well I remember her.”

After passing his sunglasses off to a ground crew member, he climbs the ladder leading to the Talon’s second seat, behind Curt’s. They each stow their procedure documents in the cockpit and hang their helmets on the rail before hopping back down for a walkaround inspection. This thing’s been checked at least twice over by ground crew already, but Curt and John don’t fly without giving their own seal of approval.

When Bucky climbs the ladder again and, at long last, settles into the tight cockpit of a real, flight-ready jet, adrenaline rises in his chest at the same time that a sense of belonging presses him into the seat. He sits back, and staring at the instrument panel just beyond his fingertips feels something like coming home. He can’t stop the grin that spreads over his face. The crew chief helps Curt and Bucky strap in and connect their G-suits, and then Bucky slides his helmet over his head so he can hook up to the oxygen supply and comms. He sighs deeply; for the duration of this test flight, this jet is a part of him, or he’s a part of it.

Ladders stowed and systems checks complete, Curt gives the signal for air, and the ground crewmen oblige, pumping life into the Talon’s engines. Once they’ve completed the last of their pre-flight checks, Bucky hears Curt’s voice buzzing in his ear. It crackles over the comms, a sound Bucky hasn’t heard coherently since he was bounding along the side of Shackleton crater.

“It feels damn good to fly with you again, Major.”

“Cut the crap, Biddick,” Bucky teases. “Without me around, you’re officially NASA’s best pilot.”

Curt scoffs at that, and Bucky imagines him rolling his eyes as he double checks the takeoff and landing data. “Should’ve left your ass on the moon… astrofag.”

Bucky rolls his eyes right back, but he can’t help but laugh. Whether he’ll admit it or not, the name is growing on him. He shrugs, reviewing the same numbers. “Only one way to get back there.”

Chick’s voice cuts in from the tower, and it makes Bucky feel something like relief to know Harding is here for this, rooting for him. “One step at a time, boys.”

As Curt starts taxiing, Bucky looks out over the side of the aircraft. The wings of the Talon and the still-open canopies shake as the tarmac rolls by beneath the wheels, bumping them along. He and Gale have taken their prop plane out a few times this month and last; Bucky even took over the controls for a while one time. But this, today, is his first time back in a supersonic jet trainer. He’s only flying second seat, leaving most of the piloting to Curt, but today is a major stepping stone toward feeling whole again: today he finds out if he can handle supersonic flight.

Since his neurologists cleared him for it a couple months ago, he’s been training for this day in earth-bound simulators. At first, the Gs were too much for him, leaving him feeling weak, pathetic, and discouraged as he passed out or started feeling sick at embarrassingly low G forces. But it’s been coming back to him in recent weeks. 

The Talon – capable of flying at Mach 1.3 and climbing 30,000 feet in just one minute – can easily pull 7 Gs. Bucky thinks he’s ready. He wants so badly to be ready. He wouldn’t be flying today if anyone thought he wasn’t ready.

They’re at the end of the runway, staring down the length of it as Curt pivots the Talon so its nose points straight ahead. When Chick clears them, they lower their canopies, and Bucky feels the cabin pressurize. He blinks in surprise as they lurch forward, and then they’re barrelling ahead, faster, faster, faster, until they lift up off the ground, ascending into the clear sky.

He breathes deeply as they climb, picking up speed as they shoot up into their airspace, approaching 16,000 feet. They coast there for a minute, making sure everything is still in order up at altitude. 

“Doin’ alright back there?” Curt asks as they both check their systems again.

“We’re go back here,” Bucky affirms. “Let’s fuckin’ do it.”

“Your wish is my command, Major,” Curt says. He lowers the nose of the jet, and they pick up speed as they drop again, getting up to about 500 knots, three-quarters of the speed of sound. Curt brings the stick back then, sharply pulling the Talon’s nose up, and Bucky watches the G-meter gradually kick up to 5 as they shoot upwards. The force presses him back into his seat, making it hard to breathe, and he clenches his muscles as he feels his G-suit get to work trying to keep the blood from draining away from his head. The needle creeps toward 6, goes a little over it. He grits his teeth hard, feeling his heart start to beat harder, faster as his vision starts to tunnel. His head feels funnier than he wishes it would, but he forces himself to focus, strains to breathe, determined to keep going. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, tensing his lower body as he and his suit fight to prevent G-LOC.

Chick’s voice crackles in Bucky’s ears. “You’re doin’ fine, son.”

Curt keeps pulling back until they’re up around 20,000 feet and the nose passes vertical; they’re now flying inverted. The nose of the Talon is like an arrow, going wherever you point it, and currently it’s looping them over backward at Curt’s command, with the ground through the canopy where the sky should be. The G-meter starts to chill out, dropping again as they lose speed. Bucky’s vision clears as the blood returns to his head, and he breathes in deeply.

Through the canopy, he catches a glimpse of two lonely, fluffy clouds in the distant sky, and below, little buildings and invisible people and dark, sparkling bodies of water spread out across the Earth. Stardust, he thinks, smiling just a little bit as he watches the world around him, trying to see it through Gale’s eyes. Bucky’s always found it beautiful, but more than anything, he’s always cared about the flight, the adrenaline, the excitement. Gale cares about the beauty, the wonder, the imperfect perfection.

“You still with me, Bucky?”

“Yeah,” Bucky assures Curt. “I’m here.”

Curt expertly flips them around and levels back out, upright once again and coasting along at a smooth 400 knot clip. “You ready?” he asks after giving Bucky some time to recover.

“I didn’t come all this way not to be.”

“I don’t need the sass,” Curt shoots back, but it’s light, like normal. “You have the controls.” Bucky’s pretty sure he hears the word ‘asshole’ muttered at the end of that sentence, and it makes him smile.

He shakes the stick in confirmation, and suddenly he has all the power of the Talon right there in his hands. His eyes flick down to where his fingers grip the stick, his heart skipping a beat, but his hand is perfectly still. “I have the aircraft,” he says, and he hopes Chick is still listening.

He sends them into a roll, feeling giddy as his head gets snapped to the side and his body seems to remember exactly what it’s supposed to do. Flying this thing is ingrained within him, like riding a bike – a bike that’s 46 feet long with a 25 foot wingspan, 3,000 pounds of thrust, a 55,000 foot altitude ceiling, and a top speed of 858 miles per hour. 

He asks the plane for a little more, a little more, pushing them higher, faster, forward. He hears Curt whoop loudly into the comms: “Come on baby! We’re fuckin’ back!” And Bucky hasn’t felt this alive since he was on the moon.

After a few minutes of unfiltered glee at the helm of his long-lost ship, feeling pieces of his soul sink back into him, he banks them around and hands the controls back over to Curt for the grand finale, their final test of the day. At about 32,000 feet, they enter a shallow dive, using it to increase their speed again. Bucky feels himself being pressed back, but with a more comfortable amount of force this time as the sky blurs by. He watches the airspeed indicator. Mach 0.92… 0.96… 0.98… 0.99. The indicator jumps, out of sync, as the bow shock passes.

Bucky nearly gasps as they hit Mach 1… 1.02… 1.06… 1.11. 

A strange feeling of calm descends on him. They’re flying faster than the speed of sound; they’re flying faster than anything else on Earth. There’s a certain beauty to it that Bucky’s missed in the last eight months, and he blinks away stubborn tears as the world starts to make sense again. He looks out the window, sees nothing but blue skies, and he lets oxygen fill his lungs as he grins beneath his mask. He laughs, and he hears Curt laugh with him.

—

Back on the ground, once the canopies are up and Curt’s parked them squarely in the Talon’s hangar, the crew chief secures the ladders to the side of the aircraft, giving the pilots their exit. He asks Bucky if he feels alright, and Bucky nods once his helmet is off, leaving dark, sweaty hair sticking up in all directions. “Never better,” he says.

In his head is a steady mantra: I am an astronaut. I am an Air Force officer. I am a pilot.

He just proved it to himself, even if he still has more work to do. He is a pilot. He is all of those things. Not was… he is. 

He climbs down slowly, gripping tight to the sides of the ladder in a way that has him second guessing how much brain power he needs to dedicate to his grip strength. Just a few months ago, his fingers wouldn’t listen well enough to do even this. But he studies his hands for just a split second, one foot on the rungs of the ladder and the other hanging mid-air, and he realizes that his fingers are working just fine right now. His legs feel a little weak as he steps down, down, down, and he holds his breath as he lowers himself the last big step to solid ground. His head goes just a little fuzzy, and for a nerve-wracking half second, he worries his knee might give out and send him crashing to the pavement, but his toes find contact, and he lets himself hop down. His head clears. He takes another deep breath.

His heart is beating fast; he still feels the adrenaline thrumming in his chest, and it makes him feel so goddamn alive. The world around him feels so unreal, the feeling of Curt clapping him on the shoulder so far away that it makes Bucky stumble to the side. He laughs and shakes his head before turning to press his hand to the jet one more time. 

“Next stop, flyin’ her yourself,” Curt says.

For the first time in months, Bucky actually believes it might happen. It’s not even a half-truth said to the media, a manifesto spoken to shove him through PT, a dream to get him out of bed in the morning. It’s right here in front of him, just inches away, and he’s so close. 

He doesn’t say any of it out loud, but he knows Curt can see it, too. They all can see it. Someday soon, John Egan won’t be grounded anymore.

He tucks his helmet under his arm and takes his aviators from the crew chief with a nod of thanks before putting them on. With a glance over at his best co-pilot as they walk away from the aircraft, out of the hangar, he ruffles Curt’s sweaty hair. “What the fuck?” Curt says, but he’s looking somewhere out ahead of them when he says it.

Bucky squints into the early evening summer sun at a small silhouette running fast toward them. After a second of confusion, he laughs and sinks down to his knees just in time for a wriggly husky to crash into his chest. “Pep!” A second one runs up to his side, licking at his ear before going after Curt. “And Meatball,” Bucky laughs. Pepper shoves her nose into his face, making him lean his head back, pushing her away even as he curls his fingers into her thick coat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Flyin’ looks good on you major,” a voice calls out. Bucky’s heart skips a beat, and his head shoots up, his hands freezing in the middle of scratching Pepper���s ears. Meatball trots away, toward the group of people approaching them. 

There’s Benny and Marge – here for support and for media updates respectively – as Bucky expected. Then there’s Chick, fresh from the tower and looking something like a proud father, or maybe just a relieved boss.

And then there’s Gale.

Bucky’s husband – the same one that Bucky was supposedly video calling in Iceland just hours ago – is now also in a NASA flight suit with his hair gelled back. He’s walking across the tarmac to him, illuminated by the sun. 

“Holy shit, man!” Benny exclaims, giving Bucky a firm, excited side hug before slapping Curt on the shoulder. “Bucky Egan is back.”

“That’s right, you can’t get rid of me,” Bucky jokes as Marge comes forward to hug him. He knows she’ll want some pictures of him and Curt by the Talon in a minute, but for now she just whispers in his ear that she’s proud of him, and she squeezes him tight.

Chick pulls him into a rare hug, patting him on the back. “You did damn good,” he says. “Damn good.”

And then there’s Gale. He stands in front of Bucky, looking a little sheepish but tall and proud and beautiful. He raises an eyebrow, and Bucky can’t do anything but stare at him for a long moment. He stares, and stares some more, before finally he blinks and surges forward. Gale grunts at the force of Bucky’s body hitting his, but he firmly plants his feet and wraps his arms around him. “Hello to you, too.”

“Hey, angel,” Bucky whispers. He presses his nose into Gale’s hair, inhales the scent of his shampoo and product. He smells like Houston, like the gulf, like waking up to sunlight shining through the windows, like all the things Bucky loves. He smells like home. “All that about what you were doin’ in Iceland today was bullshit, huh?” 

Gale shrugs. “Surprise?”

Bucky grips the fabric of Gale’s flight suit, twisting it in his fingers. “Were you… did you see?”

Gale nods. “I saw all of it.”

Bucky bites back a grin, hiding it against the side of Gale’s head. He hears Marge take their picture. It’ll be framed and on his desk within the week.

—

By the time the sun’s gone down, the Talon tucked away in its hangar and the ground crew gone for the day, Bucky is back at Ellington Field, sitting on the hard pavement of the runway. There’s the lightest breeze drifting around him, carried in off the bay to relieve Houston from the oppressive heat of the daylight. Major Egan is still in his flight suit, adorned with patches – his name, John Egan, written in neat script beneath a set of wings; the NASA logo; the U.S. flag; his ISS mission patch; and finally, Artemis III.

There’s a crescent moon peeking out of the darkness, set against a backdrop of dark blue-black sky pockmarked with the stars that have guided Bucky his entire life. He stares up at them, the moon and the stars, his mind jumping from one thing to the next. Running through his flight today, everything good and bad about it; thinking through how much further he still has to go until his body is 100% ready to fly alone again; wondering if Gale is looking for him, if he knows Bucky well enough to know where to find him. He’s remembering walking on that moon – every day he works to reconcile it all in his brain, what went wrong and what went right. He’s thinking about what it will be like when Gale goes up there in just a short four or so months.

He can hear footsteps walking over the pavement, and he breathes out in a huff. His husband knows him like the back of his own hand after all.

He spares a glance over as Gale settles on the ground beside him, pulling his knees to his chest in a way that Bucky thinks can’t possibly be comfortable anymore at their age. They sit, close enough that their arms brush, and they look up at the sky that has laid the path for their entire existence.

“Everyone’s headin’ to the Hundred Proof,” Gale says. “Thought you’d wanna drink to being back in the cockpit.”

Bucky hums. “Guess that’s somethin’ I oughta do.” Since he was released from the hospital last December, the Hundred Proof has become a place of celebration and camaraderie again, rather than one of collective grief and worry. His Artemis portrait went up on the walls of the bar just before the new year, along with Curt’s, Rosie’s, and Alex’s. Soon enough, Gale’s ISS portrait will be switched out for his Artemis 4 one, too. Buck and Bucky; one is never far behind the other. 

Bucky crosses his legs and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, still looking up as if he can see the entire universe if he only squints hard enough. “We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?”

“Have we?”

Bucky looks over at Gale again, scoffing in disbelief, but he finds Gale hiding a smirk as he presses his cheek to his knee, watching Bucky. His hair is messy again from running his hand through it, the gel never holding for long, and Bucky rolls his eyes, reaching a hand out to ruffle it some more. 

“It’s worth it,” he says matter of factly, letting his eyes drift back to the stars.

Gale scoots closer and lets his head fall against Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s our life,” he agrees. He doesn’t need to emphasize the our; it’s as if there was never any doubt in this universe that his life would be John’s and John’s would be his.

“Sometimes I can’t really believe I made it here.”

“You were never gonna take no for an answer.” Gale doesn’t know exactly which part of Bucky’s life they’re talking about. He wasn’t going to settle for less than the astronaut corps. And he wasn’t going to settle for less than Gale either. 

“I said sometimes,” Bucky mutters, but there comes a point, no matter how badly you’ve always wanted something, where it doesn’t feel real anyways. He doesn’t quite know what he did right to make it to this very spot, even if he can trace his exact path, every single step and crossroads and difficult decision. Sometimes, all he feels is fucking lucky.

Gale scoffs and turns his head, pressing his nose against Bucky’s neck, above the collar of his flight suit. He kisses the delicate skin there. “I never had a doubt,” he whispers. “I’m proud of you.”

Bucky leans back, pulling Gale with him until they’re both laying on the hard ground. It’s uncomfortable as hell, but Gale curls against Bucky’s body anyway, shifting so his head lays right over his heart. Bucky’s fingers curl into his hair. They don’t shake. They don’t even hesitate.

“It’s a damn good life,” Bucky breathes out, the words floating up to the heavens and wrapping around them both. He means it with everything he has. 

Gale hums in agreement. With his ear pressed to Bucky’s chest, he can hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. It’s a sound that he took for granted before, but he never, ever gets tired of it now. He squeezes his eyes shut and silently counts along. One. Two. Three. Four.

“You’ll come home, right?” Bucky asks. Few people in this world would be able to distinguish the slight tremble to his voice, the way it jumps almost imperceptibly, nerves twining through it. But Gale hears it loud and clear. With his cheek pressed to Bucky’s chest, he feels the rise and fall start to slow, feels the way Bucky is nearly holding his breath.

Gale closes his eyes, bites at his lower lip. He knows that Bucky knows better than to ask that question. Both of them know that their line of work has never, not once, come with guarantees. They know better than anyone that promises like that are as good as empty. And yet, without promises, what is there to keep them moving forward?

So Gale buries his face in Bucky’s chest and says the only thing he can say. “When have you ever known me not to come home?”

Bucky scoffs quietly at that, but Gale knows that’s all he wanted to hear. They both know that, technically, the odds of him making it home are high; the opposite outcome, statistically, has little to no standing. Bucky takes Gale’s hand, and he mindlessly fiddles with Gale’s fingers in a way that feels normal and domestic, like they’re just any other married couple in this funny little world. Like they’re just them – awkward teenagers and reckless young adults and newlyweds all at once.

Gale could count the days until he launches out of this planet’s orbit. The hours. The minutes. He could mentally tally them as they tick by, pulling them closer and closer to the next adventure, the next mission, the next dream. The clock is running.

But, despite it looming over them, with all of the excitement and adrenaline and worry that it entails, at this exact moment, beneath a sky full of stars, it feels far away. He could count down the seconds. He could feel the anticipation of it winding through his body with every beat of his heart. 

But instead, he focuses on Bucky. He counts his husband’s heartbeats, the purest sign that they are both alive, that they are both exactly where they need to be. One. Two. Three. Four.

“Ad lunam, ad astra,” Bucky whispers into the night.

Gale hides a smile against the fabric of Bucky’s flight suit. It smells like flight – fuel and sweat. He focuses on that, on the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, on the feeling of warmth between them, the sticky summer air drifting through their hair. 

“To the moon, to the stars,” he repeats back. And with a soft smile, he lets himself breathe.

[alipeeps]

Episode 26

"We've caught the demon". Pretty fucking sure you haven't cos uhhh... she literally rocked up with an umbrella for Li Lun at the end of the last episode...

Mmm and if that *isn't* Ao Yin... is it another of Wen Zongyu's demon hybrids, that's been given the shapeshifting power?

(Ooooh and if that's the case, was that even Ao Yin that they went chasing after - that Chongwu camp pointed out? Or was it just their pet shapeshifter pretending to be her? And pointing her out was designed to make the gang chase off after her. Just another part of their plan to make sure Zhuo Yichen/Demon Hunting Bureau got villified/distrusted by the populace.

Called it.

Is she sitting up waiting for Zhuo Yichen to come home?

Oh give him a hug ffs, you both need it...

Meanwhile Zhao Yuanzhou is roaming the halls like a restless, lonely ghost...

Ugh the soft almost smile as he looks as Zhao Yuanzhou...

He wasn't prepared for that. And he also didn't want that - for Zhuo Yichen to have to have the experiences that would make him understand what it has been like for Zhao Yuanzhou.

Oh dang..

My fucking heart...

When the drama straight up goes "Found family? Hell yes. Explicitly yes. Yes."

But he still wants to die of course...

"Wo men yi qi"

Scuse me, officer? I need to report a crime? Yes, this show is trying to murder me.

Oh dang, Zhao Yuanzhou is now putting his coat round every member of his polycule, one by one...

Zhao Yuanzhou you are such a git. I love you.

Yeah he did... but you cut him off.

Shitttt this is too fucking tender. This is killing me.

OMG the camera acting as her POV and her glance drifting down to his neck...

I am dead. This is my ghost typing this.

Oooh I was literally just thinking last night.. they've fixed the baize token, surely they should make it a priority to restore the wilderness?

OMG it that Bai Jiu mama coming back to life?!!!

Holy shit after all the angst and pain of the previous episode, this one is like a fucking warm bath of emotion.

(Which almost certainly means the show is going to rip my heart out again VERY soon, right? Like they're doing this just to make it all the more painful when they reach into my chest and crush my very soul...)

Oh what the fuck?!!

Don't you fucking hurt my boy Ying Lei!! Don't you DARE!!

I thought you said it wasn't easy to break a mountain god's barrier, Ying Lei?!

Oooh was that Xiao Jiu's powder that slows down/weakens demons?

So he's bought the gang some extra time by slowing Li Lun down...

Well that certainly doesn't bode well...

Ooooh so if you had one wish Yichen, what would it be? Turn yourself human again... or save Zhao Yuanzhou....

Well shit.

(However, if there is no need to pursue them into the Bingyi Clan's forbidden area, then why the fuck did you rock up to pursue them in the first place, Li Lun?)

That sounds like a REALLY FUCKING BAD IDEA, Zhuo Yichen!!

You tell him, Wen Xiao! It's found FAMILY, Zhuo Yichen, not found I'mma-nobly-do-this-shit-all-on-my-own!

Well said Sijing.

Oh fuuuuuck. Zhao Yuanzhou. You're fucking killing me here!

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh

Oh god, and the way Wen Xiao immediately looks at Zhao Yuanzhuo with hope... like please, please say yes Zhao Yuanzhou, please say you'll live...

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKK

He's spent so long seeking death... and he's willing to give that up.... because Zhuo Yuanzhou asked him to.

(Oh god, he's definitely going to die at the end, isn't he? It's going to destroy me)

Ha! Wen Xiao pulling rank on Zhuo Yichen! AND on Zhao Yuanzhou!

FUCK. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.

Oh fuck, is it Ying Long?!!

Oh fuck, one of them has to stay there?

Oh dang, it's asking him to sacrifice one of the team...

This is Zhuo Yichen you're dealing with here. If the choice is sacrifice one of his team or die himself (due to not fixing the Cloud Light Sword), then he'll choose to die himself. Every time.

Uhoh, it's trying to freeze all of you!

Ohhh the way he just so calmly and casually wraps his hand around Zhao Yuanzhou's hand to forestall his one word spell.

What do you think he's gonna do? He's gonna choose to sacrifice himself.

What the FUCK? He has pre-written goodbye letters to Wen Xiao?!!

This episode is destroying me. They are just constantly fucking verbalising their care and feelings for one another and... how... how am I supposed to just sit here and survive that?

Yesssss Zhao Yuanzhou....

But what's the point if they both die? Or is he trying to take Zhuo Yichen's place?

The fuuuuuuck what a visual!!

And after all that... they still don't even have the way to mend the sword? And who's gonna mend it anyway?!

Holy SHIT this episode was incredible and I am emotionally exhausted.

[belle-rosse]

Hi! i wanted to ask about ur thoughts on the part where jinx said "this wasnt supposed to happen" during the fight scene in the temple! Bc it seems to me some part of her hoped that vi wouldnt kill her and GOD it pains me!!!!

Hi!! Thanks for asking me about this bcs that scene has not left my mind since I first saw it but I just couldn’t put it into words!!!

Jinx has always viewed death as something good, a place where she and Vi can be together, an opportunity to become sisters again.

Part of this is also reflected in her suicide attempt (which nearly succeeded if Silco hadn’t interrupted) in s1x07, where she also sacrificed Ekko’s life. Jinx wants to die with someone she loves close to her.

Now, Jinx’s decision to use The Grey against Piltover happens after the events of s2x02, after she witnesses the brutality with which the enforcers terrorize Zaun with that very same gas. What hurts her the most is seeing that her sister is part of it.

When Jinx tells Sevika that she’s planning to finish what’s left of her family, she’s not referring to Vi; she’s referring to herself. In her eyes, she sees that Vi has completely given up on her, that her sister was Powder, not Jinx. It’s something she likely expected but never really admitted. After all, their last interaction was based on Vi trying to reach Powder one last time. But not this time. Vi won’t save her again. Jinx has to die.

The plan in the pipeworks in s2x03 is clearly another suicide attempt. The drawings on the pillars depicting her entire life, the collapse, one last threat to Piltover, “I’m glad it’s you, had to be you.” Jinx was saying goodbye. Vi had to kill her, and afterward, Sevika would activate the mechanism that would end her sister and Caitlyn as well. I don’t think she expected Vi not to kill her.

But there’s something new Jinx didn’t account for, someone, actually: Isha. The brave little girl who confronts the terrifying image of an enforcer (because in her eyes, not knowing who Vi is to Jinx, she only represents oppression) to defend her. Isha being caught in the eye of the storm, right where the wind would catch her if the mechanism is activated, triggers something in Jinx. A sense of protection, the same one her sister felt towards her when she was little.

It’s in that scene, when Isha clings to her and Jinx sees Vi, that she recognizes her older sister once more, realizing the uniform is just a ridiculous disguise and that there’s still compassion in her eyes. Vi, similarly, sees Jinx’s humanity and the figure of little Powder in another child.

Isha represents the lost innocence of both, and I would even dare say of Caitlyn as well. Isha doesn’t deserve to die. To me, when Jinx says “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she’s referring to Isha’s inevitable death for getting involved in the conflict, which is why, when Sevika activates the mechanism, her first instinct is to protect Isha from where the wind is blowing instead of letting herself die.

One last attempt to see if the bad luck that curses her name spares her this once, a desperate attempt, one she didn’t even expect, to prove that not everyone who gets too close to her has to die.

I hope that answers your question!! it’s a pretty long response, though 😭

[fivewantscoffee]

So, Five x Lila. I need to get this out of my system so I can maybe finally move on:

I don't like the ship.

I don't like the characters together. I find the pairing a baffling one, and I don't like what it does to the show (and characters) either.

First of all, that wasn't Lila. I don't know who it was, but it wasn't the woman we saw off at the end of S3, or even the one we started off S4 with.

It just wasn't her.

You can blame trauma, or six years of being on the move. That's going to change a person, for sure, but this wasn't about giving Lila any character development.

It was about giving Five a love interest.

Because that life? Yeah. I could see it for Five. I could see him deciding to settle down and take life slow, I could see him being sweet and domestic with a partner should he have one. After he's had some time to heal, now that he's finally free of the apocalypse, I could see that for Five.

But Lila? She was unhappy in her marriage, at least partly because the domestic, stay-at-home-mum life has proven to be something that doesn't fulfil her. She wants more out of life, which is why "bookclub" happened, which is why she ended up in the subway with Five in the first place.

And okay. For the sake of argument, let's go with this. Let's say Five x Lila happened so they could cope with their situation. It was survival, like Lila said. If we were going to have to endure this bad, messy plot point anyway, (which we didn't, we really, really didn't), it should at least have been treated with the seriousness it deserves.

Because, Five? The complete, callous lack of remorse on his part? What the fuck was that?

Even if you pick through the crumbs and try to make it make sense, this wasn't a romance. At best it was survival, and coping, and kind of a tragedy all at once. Five shouldn't be picking fights with Diego. He shouldn't be acting like a spurned twenty-something-year-old.

And yeah, characters can be flawed and in the wrong, but why like this? This didn't feel like Five to me. He is brusque and, when looked at it from a certain angle, I can see why some would call him selfish (which I don't necessarily agree with, but that's a different conversation), but under all his layers, he does love his family. To me, that's the core of his character and has been since S1. Everything he's done, he's done to ensure their survival, then when he agreed to give up in S3, he was content to simply die by their sides.

So, you're telling that this Five, the one we've known and followed for three seasons, had a fling with Lila and didn't even feel guilty or conflicted about it? You're telling me loved this woman, yet was willing to keep her from her family, her children?

"Five is selfish" "Five is tired" "Five is finally moving on"

No. Not like that. To me, the Five from previous seasons (S2 specifically, because that's where a lot of it goes wrong) is only "selfish" in that he wants his family to survive and is willing to go to any lengths to achieve that. He's not exactly compassionate about Allison and Viktor having to leave Ray and Sissy behind. And yeah, he leaves Diego in the asylum because he doesn't want him messing with the timeline.

Is he in the wrong for that? Answer this any way you want, but I don't think it matters to Five. Does he want his siblings to be happy? In my opinion, of course he does, but they're not going to be happy if they're dead.

That's not the same as what S4 does. Not by a long shot. Five cares deeply about those he loves, and granted, he is pretty bad at showing it, but he does care.

He nearly worked himself into the grave trying to solve the first two apocalypses, with little regard for his own well-being. When he realised a third apocalypse was happening, he didn't say fuck it and continue his Pennsylvania retirement road trip... he immediately dropped everything to try and fix it.

So how did we get to S4 Five, who got with his brother's wife, found a way home, didn't tell Lila, AND THEN, after he finally gave her the notebook and they went back, he acts like that?

Yeah, no. That's not my Five.

Also, five x lila happening isn't Five moving on. If anything, it's how he copes with the situation they're in. That's just his Delores 2.0.

Anyway, all of this is moot because the fact of the matter is, they chose to make this happen. Five and Lila getting stuck in the subway together for seven years didn't have to happen.

I don't know.

This used to be a show about family. It also used to be a show about the effects of child abuse on this group of siblings. This started to fall to the wayside after S1, but the family aspect of it still remained.

At its core, tua has always been about family, so what was the point of making S4 at all if this is what they were going to give us?

It's not just Five x Lila. They messed this up across the board, with how flippantly the absence of Sloane and Ray was treated, how shallow and surface-level all of the rest was. They gave us some crumbs with Klaus and Allison, but they couldn't even do that without retconning their entire relationship. That's not even mentioning the ending. The Hargreeves all sacrificing themselves in the end could have worked, but this was not the way to do it.

Anyway, this rant is over. S1 Five, you'll always be famous to me.

[gemsofthegalaxy]

i'm so sorry but people being like "Vi asking Cait not to change and then she immediately becomes a dictator" like that's the thing, Cait was never at a point where she'd really interrogated her relationship to the Undercity and her privilege enough for this to be that far out of left field. Her mother died and she said to Jayce she understood hatred of the whole Undercity population, called people animals for attacking during a memorial (unbeknownst to her, orchestrated by people 'on her side').

Vi, meanwhile, has seen no less than 3 parents die, not to mention countless others. She's lost her sister which she blames herself for (despite telling herself she isn't doing that anymore) and she still holds so much love in her heart. I don't quite understand how she reconciles using chemical warfare of the grey to try and smoke Jinx out (haha) other than the fact that she's desperate, still, to try and resolve things with her sister even if it means taking her out (which she still is unable to do). She just wants things to be okay with the least amount of damage, and to right what she feels are her wrongs.

And although Vi does clearly go along with using the Grey, Caitlyn has much greater access to cold detachment to the folks of the Undercity because she never quite got around to seeing them as full people in the first place. A pet project, perhaps, to try and save them when that was a undeniable and easy good. As soon as it becomes complicated, and people there are hurtful and have teeth and are not perfect flawless victims, it's so easy to shuck the desire to "help" the poor folks of the Undercity- in fact, now she finds it quite easy to hate them all instead.

Caitlyn didn't change, not in a notable way, she leaned in further to her birthright, which is one of upper class privilege and doing whatever she pleases.

(ps, I don't hate her. I think she's an incredibly compelling and interesting character. But I do not believe she is a good person and she's been teetering towards that since the second s2e1 dropped. I think she would have to do a lot more work than just falling in love with someone who happens to be from the Undercity to really interrogate her place in this world and commit to understanding the structural changes that are needed in Piltover for that)

[ramblinscramblin]

→ General kissing headcanons!

Genre: fluff! GN reader

Characters: all mercenaries

Requested by me! First one of these, still getting a feel for writing for a lot these characters so forgive me if it’s ooc, I try my hardest! Enjoy!

Scout

Spends more time talking about kissing then actually doing it, psychs himself out a lot of time, may end up not even being able to do it.

He’s a nervous wreck when it comes to initiating physical contact, you’ll have to initiate most of the kisses most of the time (hehe).

Will pretend it’s you who’s nervous though, even if that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Look at you, you’re tremblin’ in your seat! Maybe some other night…” he said once, throwing an uncaring arm around the back of the couch.

“Scout, I’m not nervous… are you?” You pause for a moment, scanning his burning face “you are!”

“Nah! I’m not! What’s there to be nervous ’bout? Who even friggin’ cares not me! I’m relaxed!” He shouted as he quickly jumped to his feet “forget this! Im leavin’!”

Despite his reservations, once the two of you actually get into it, he warms up nicely. The anticipation is really what drives him crazy.

Scout definitely grabs at you whenever you two kiss, whatever he can reach really, your hips, jaw, neck, hands, thighs, whatever is closest.

Most of Scouts kisses are good natured, short, and sweet, he interrupts himself often to start a new train of thoughts. Extremely chatty during make out sessions, it’s almost endearing.

Deeper kisses are a pretty dangerous game for him, so he tends to keep that behavior for the bedroom.

Enjoys a good kiss on his forehead, would fucking die before he admitted that though.

Demoman

Really easy lover in pretty much every regard.

Demoman is looking for a good time, all the time, so long as you treat him with respect, kisses are pretty hard not to come by.

He’s almost always the one to make the first move (usually using a little bit of liquid courage to put a pep in his step).

“Yer lookin’ right as ever, wasna mor’ bonny cunt all night,” he said with a massive grin.

Sometimes it was a little hard to understand what he was saying, his facial expression usually tells you whether he means “cunt” in a negative or positive way. Clearly he is more than well intentioned.

“I’m… sorry,” you apologize with a gentle laugh “what was that?”

He placed a soft kiss right on the side of your mouth “I meant you look good, laddie/lassie.”

After that he pretty much kisses you all the time whenever for whatever.

LOVES IT when you take the reins though and kiss him, he always scoops you up and gives a big laugh, making a huge spectacle out of it.

Lots of drunk making out, I don’t make the rules.

Kisses you wherever you let him, no real preference, but loves to kiss your cheek and you his.

Solider

Solider is honestly a pretty hard read for me.

I feel like Solider takes most his cues from you, if you’re shy and nervous, he tends to act the same, if you’re confident and assertive, so is he.

Surprisingly, doesn’t take the lead very often, prefers if you tell him what you want, he hates reading social situations, especially when he tends to fail so often.

“Hey Solider,” you greet warmly one day.

“Hello maggot!” Strangely, despite the antagonistic nature of the nickname he still salutes you as you approach.

The two of you stand silently for a moment, before inevitably asking your most burning question “wanna make out?”

“Affirmative,” he said enthusiastically.

Most things with Solider are pretty simple, he’s a no nonsense fellow, he likes things to be American, and straight forward.

Kisses from him are always really fulfilling and deep, he likes kissing you before and after battle for “good luck”.

Kisses you on the back your neck and shoulders whenever they’re out, he loves that tender shit.

He likes to be taken seriously in his romances, no jokes during those times.

Always grabs the nape of your neck, almost always pulls away smiling. He’s a sweet heart.

Pyro

Pyro loves kisses.

Always secretly angling for them, anyway they can.

Pyro came up to you early one morning, a plate full of… what may at some point been then cinnamon buns saved in the communal fridge, but now were burnt to a crisp.

“Oh… is this for me! Thank you,” you smiled politely, taking the plate in your hands.

“Hudda hudda!” Mumbled Pyro happily, hands clasped in excitement.

You leaned forward and place a soft kiss on the side of their mask.

Pyro was so geeked and giddy, they didn’t even realize that you had discarded the cinnamon buns behind your back.

Big cartoony kisses on their mask, make a big show of it, with a loud “mwah!” As you pull away, they’re already melting.

Most kisses come when Pyro and you are cuddling, which is also a frequently required assignment from Pyro.

Every time they kiss you, you can hear a very muffled and yet extremely enthusiastic smecking sound from inside their mask.

Spy

Spy is headstrong with romance, never the kind of guy to pull his punches. He’s so charming though that you may not even notice.

He’s a gentleman, so there is actually a lot that has to happen before he is willing to kiss you.

Lots of flirting and courting, everything, the entire nine yards. Makes you feel like royalty. First date also needs to happen before he kisses you.

“I can pull out my own seat, Spy,” you scold a little half heartedly.

Spy just stares at you, half offended for a moment before saying “don’t speak nonsense, mon amor! It’s bad luck!”

You hardly lift a finger during the entire date, even goes as far as feeding you, ends the night with an incredibly scenic walk back home and a kiss under the New Mexico moonlight.

Once kissing becomes regular for the two of you… it still almost always treated like a first kiss. Passionate, polite, loving. Spy is honestly so dreamy when he’s courting someone.

Doesn’t take much to bring out his hungrier side though, craves your kisses a little too insatiably at times. He just cannot get enough of you!

Hand kisses, constant hand kisses. Holds your hand often so it is easy to quickly bring to his lips for a quick peck.

Sniper

Sniper may take the longest to convince out of all of them.

I mean you can rush into it and kiss him unexpectedly, but really you’d be shooting yourself in the foot. Plus Sniper deserves to be worked for.

Spending constant quality time takes a lot of effort, but it’s what is required to get him even close to comfortable with the idea of kissing someone.

Tends to stay out of the romance scene, things can get messy in his profession he doesn’t want to drag anyone else into it.

But oh god he thinks about it constantly, especially when you start hanging around more and more, too strict on policy to admit it.

But if it’s technically your idea? Well… it wouldn’t exactly be very polite to decline now would it?

You’re sitting with him around a campfire, shoulder to shoulder on a log he cut a little too short (definitely not on purpose).

“So… quiet night,” you say, peeking up at him with a crooked smile.

“Uh, yup. That’s right,” he said quietly, staring down at you intensely.

Your eyes darted to his lips for just a second, but that was more than enough, you two were locked together for over an hour.

Acts awkward around you almost every single time you kiss him, not matter how long it’s been. He just cannot seem to get used to it. Don’t bring it up though, it will put him off.

Kissing snipes is rewarding every damn time because of how hard you have to work for it.

He likes to whisper sweet nothings between kisses, don’t acknowledge it, in fact don’t acknowledge any of it (Mick does not want to be perceived).

Kisses your temple, frequently. Loves if you pick up the same habit.

Engie

Engie is a fiend for physical affection, it’s a secret you’re not supposed to know about it though.

Finds kissing to be the most important part of a relationship, really values the whole intimacy of it.

Even despite that I imagine that he’s not really flashy about his approach with how to get kisses, talks around it mostly, making jokes and jabs about it.

Engie is probably the most emotionally intelligent out of all the mercs, so he’ll work up the courage eventually just give him a minute or two.

“So… we’ve been gettin’ pretty close, havin’ a good time an’ all,” he said subtly while you were alone with him.

“Yeah, I’d agree,” you respond with a grin.

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant and confident “I think maybe we should take things to the next level, wha’d’ya say?”

Of course you accept, he’s still immensely shocked and red in the face about it though.

He likes really sudden like sickly sweet kisses, give him that corny rom-com stuff right now, he will absolutely melt.

Also likes to kiss while he hugs you, big into slipping his hands into your pockets while he does so.

Kisses your head a lot (if you’re taller than him he gets annoyed frequently that he can’t reach, you’re his prime target every time you sit down).

Just love on this man, he’s simple.

Medic

Despite how insane this guy is I feel like Medic is pretty coy with romance.

Not in a way that is shy, or insecure, or even nervous, he just enjoys being chased, he wants you to have to work for it at least a little bit.

You also have to prove to be someone worthy of his affection (which isn’t as hard as it sounds, show genuine interest in his interests and be sweet to his birds there you won).

Medic has a pretty lax kissing policy, he greets people with kisses all the time, so he wasn’t really shy with you even if things progressed more seriously.

“Oh! Good morning!” Medic exclaimed, placing a kick peck on the side of your lips.

Embarrassment clear on your face as you raise your hands in surprise, his good morning friendly kisses are usually placed squarely on the cheek, not so close to your mouth.

“Little eager this morning aren’t you?” You said in a teasing manner.

He shrugged a little, making a cheeky expression “I have no idea vhat you are talking about!”

Kisses at inopportune or awkward times, never seems to notice. Genuinely enjoys catching you off guard.

Likes make out sessions in his office a lot, secretly making mental notes about your oral situation, totally not creepy.

Expect a lot of kisses right next to your mouth, that’s his absolute favorite spot to kiss you, that or along your spine.

Heavy

Heavy is respectful to a fault honestly, is afraid of seeming creepy or imposing so he may keep his distance at first.

Definitely needs to go ahead from you before he thinks about making any moves, he doesn’t want to scare you away, and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances either. But once he sense a mutual attraction? He may get a little more bold.

“Is looking good tonight,” he said, elbowing you as lightly as possible.

“Who is?” You ask whipping your head around briefly.

Heavy laughed “you is,” he joked.

Kissing is almost always initiated by you, he has to be a special mood to start it himself, usually if he’s upset and needs a quick pick me up.

Is actually very clingy if you allow him to be (which of course you will, don’t be stupid people) holds you firmly in place while kissing.

Likes kissing your ears, finds your flustered reaction so sweet and adorable. Really into that pure shit.

Kisses you on the cheek whenever the two of you go your separate ways for whatever reason, and of course when you two reunite. Yes, you’re that couple.

God I’m such a sap, what’s wrong with me.

An: oh jeez! I hope that was good Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) again first time writing for a lot of these gents so let’s pray this isn’t offensively out of character. Thanks so much for reading!