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random-imagines-blog · 4 years

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Promise Me Part 2 {Reggie Mantle x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2244 Summary: Some people aren’t taking the kindest to your budding relationship. Sequel to Promise Me, Part 1 Found Here (X)

The only thing better than hanging out with Reggie at school was the reactions from the other students. Especially your ex boyfriend Sweet Pea. Karma came around and knocked him off of his ass, just as you were hoping. Her summer fling, Josie, had dumped him for Archie Andrews, just the way that he had dumped you for her. A petty side of you was happy about that. He deserved it. He got to be grumpy around the halls of Riverdale High while you walked around with Reggie following you like some kind of lovesick puppy. After you had taken him out for his birthday, showed him a good time with a bunch of drag Queens and sugary alcohol-free drinks, he’d taken to you even more. Didn’t even complain when he had to ride bitch on the back of your motorcycle back to your snug little town.

“Are you ready for the test today?” Reggie asked, somewhat sarcastically. You had been blowing him off lately to study for this exam. You really needed to do well on it to pass this class, since you had been just cruising through it instead of trying. It was now or never.

You took your study notes out of your pocket, where they had been crumpled up for a couple of hours, and slammed them down on the cafeteria table. “You have no idea how ready I am, Mantle.” You said with a smirk. You flattered out the pieces of paper and went right back to studying them while Reggie sat beside you and made sure that your hair didn’t get into your food. You were eating without paying attention, and if he hadn’t stepped in, you probably would have eaten a lock or two. You were appreciative of it, but never knew how to show that sort of thing.

You never thought that this would have worked out. Reggie, with his range of emotions - most of them fueled by negativity, like jealousy and arrogance but once in a while, he showed you something nice. Meanwhile, your brother Jughead had once complained that you had the emotional range of a knife. But yet there was something between you two. Something more than you had ever felt with Sweet Pea. This in no way felt like a relationship out of convenience.

“When you pass, I’ll take you out to Pop’s, we’ll get milkshakes,” Reggie said, clipping your hair back for the upteenth time.

“Yay, another milkshake,” You said, deadpan as always. “We always go for milkshakes, Reg, I think that this deserves something a little more special. What about our secret place?”

“What, you showed him your stupid secret place?”A voice came from behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Sweet Pea. Now that he didn’t have Josie to focus on, his attention had been on you again. Love notes, flowers, trying to sit next to you in class. You had told him to fuck off so many times, it might as well have become your catchphrase. But there he was, always there, right out of the corner of your eye, listening to everything that you were saying. “I’ve known you forever and you never took me there.”

“Guess you just weren’t special enough,” You said with a shrug. You got to your feet, shoved your notes back into your pocket and smiled rarely at Reggie. “Come on, walk to me class.”

“Yes ma’am,” Reggie said with a smirk, getting to his feet. He purposefully pushed past your ex boyfriend as he followed behind you, neither of you looking back. The Serpent wasn’t worth it. That was something you had come to learn and fully believed.

You wore the top that your mother had gotten you and sent in the mail. It was plain, but flowy, and didn’t have the leather look that you had come to be known for. All black t-shirts and jackets, comfortable things. But this was a special night - even to the point where you were allowing Reggie to pick you up in his car. This shirt was a dark purple color, not quite black, but still enough to where you felt yourself while wearing it.

There was a honking noise outside the trailer. You still had never let him come inside. You weren’t ashamed of the little home that you shared with your dad and your brother, but you also didn’t want to see the look of distaste that Reggie would no doubt have on his face.

With a last glimpse in the mirror, strange how feminine you looked today, you left the trailer and walked over to the car that didn’t look like it belonged in this neighborhood at all. It was too nice. And too clean. People were no doubt peeking out their windows to see who were there and who they were there for. With your usual level of confidence, you strode to the car and got inside, only to be greeted by a huge smile and an arm around your hug from Reggie Mantle. “ONE HUNDRED BABY!”

Yes, you had gotten a hundred percent on your test. That was the main reason why you were letting Reggie drive. Because you were so damn excited, that you might try to bribe one of the bartenders to put a shot into your drink. No one really messed with the gay bar, so cops were unlikely to show up. It was hard to ID people when they were dressed as the opposite gender, anyhow. “It’s not that big of a deal,” You said, shrugging his arm off and put on the seatbelt. What an unfamiliar feeling. You spent more time on bikes than you ever did in cars, and those did not come with seatbelts.

“You’re allowed to be happy and excited for things you know,” He said, his smile slightly faltering. “It’s just us. And I’ve seen you happy before.”

“It’s just embarrassing,” You muttered, sinking into the seat. “Having ... feelings.”

Reggie took that as a huge compliment, and it helped to boost his ego. “So you have feelings for me, eh?” He asked with a huge grin.

“Oh stop,” You said, rolling your eyes. “Is it such a surprise that beneath this hard exterior is just soft, pink flesh? I am still human, after all.”

“A bit,” Reggie said with a shrug, focusing his eyes on the row as he tried to find his way out of the trailer park. The streets were thin and like a maze. “You just hide them so well, it’s hard to tell you have any.”

“I wouldn’t be hanging out with you if I didn’t, you dolt.” You sunk into the comfortable leather seats of the car, letting yourself relax now that you were leaving the park. You still had to give him directions to the gay bar, but he was getting the hang of the journey. “People just suck. They break down your walls, just to hurt you so you have to build them back up and stronger. I don’t like being vulnerable.”

“People are assholes,” Reggie agreed, thinking of his on again off again thing with Veronica. He hadn’t thought much about it since you had come into his life, actually.

Rather than get into more conversations about emotions, you turned up the music and rolled down the window, sticking your head out. “Fuck standardized testing!” You yelled out as you drove past the school. Reggie laughed at that, wondering how you could go from steady as a rock to being this free and liberated within a matter of seconds. He’d never met anyone like you before. Never met anyone who truly did not give a fuck about what other people thought of them.

The bar was busy tonight. Friday nights usually were, but there wasn’t a single person there who you recognized from Riverdale. It would be hard for any of them to get in, considering you and Reggie were the only ones that were allowed in under age. Only when you weren’t around the judgmental looks of your peers did you really feel like you could be yourself. You didn’t care what other people said, it was just the fact that they were saying anything that bothered you.

You ordered more of the virgin cocktails that you liked so much, so syrupy sweet. You drained the first one quickly, and felt the sugar remaining in your system. “Dance with me,” You said to Reggie, holding your hand out to him. And he did. He came out onto the dance floor with you and the dressed up Queens and made sure that you had a damn good time.

So good a time that you didn’t notice that there was a familiar face in the crowd. And hand that was connected to the body that was connected to that face had his phone out and was recording video.

“Did you hear that they go to gay bars together?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n was a lesbian. I wouldn’t want to date a guy again if he did what Sweet Pea did-”

“Reggie’s dad is going to kill him.”

“A hidden drag Queen?”

The words followed you and Reggie around the next morning as you met at your locker and he walked you to your class, just as he always did. His jaw was clenched, a vein popping in his forehead. You understood his anger - his dad would really would get pissed off about this sort of thing. You had heard the rumors. And you had seen the bruises that Reggie refused to talk about, but you never pushed the issue.

It was pushing at your own anger issues as well. You didn’t like this sort of attention - why the hell couldn’t Cheryl do something daring to get the attention onto her, the way she liked it? Burn down her house again or something. You’d give her all your money to do that at this point.

The most amazing thing though, was despite all of these looks and the rumors and the jokes, Reggie stood by your side. He picked you up from your first class, and took you to your second. And then he picked you up from there and took you to lunch. His shoulders were more tense than they usually were, and he had started to grind his teeth. Something would have to be done before both of you exploded.

Everyones eyes were on you when you stepped into the cafeteria. Even your brother’s, though they looked hurt - you never even told him about your special place. Sweet Pea, sitting beside Jughead, looked pissed. You stopped before you got in line, and Reggie bumped into you from behind. You turned around to face him, looking up into his dark eyes. You were always astounded by the sharp jawline that he had, and those cheekbones - he was a fuckin’ hunk.

“I’m bisexual, not a lesbian,” You said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Not that it’s anyone’s fucking business. And if you’re that damn concerned about Reggie, well...”

You had to stand on your tiptoes because he was so tall. You leaned against him, pressing his chest against yours, using him to steady yourself. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in for a kiss that should ease any doubt in anyone’s mind.

There was a pounding sound on the edge of the room that made you startle yourself out of the bliss that Reggie’s lips had blossomed in you. Expecting it to be a teacher, you turned around, only to see Sweet Pea was raging his way towards you, the chair that he was sitting in pushed to the ground. You turned around, straightening your shoulders, ready to get into a fight with your ex-boyfriend if this was how it was going to end up. You weren’t about to let Reggie defend you, that’s not the sort of girl that you were.

“You don’t deserve her, Mantle,” Sweet Pea sneered, his nostrils flaring.

“Neither did you,” Reggie said in return. He put his arm around your waist, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Get over yourself, Sweet Pea,” You said, not liking the way that they were talking as if you weren’t even there. “So what, Kevin Keller takes a video of us dancing and that, for some reason, is all of your business? I’ll be the first to admit that we aren’t as interesting as you seem to think that we are. You really want something to focus on in that video? Learn some style from those Queens, you boring peasants.”

Reggie laughed for the first time that day at your comments. You leaned back against his chest, motioning for him to back up. “Let’s go to Pop’s,” He suggested.

“Anywhere that’s not here,” You said, exchanging his arm for his hand, holding it tight as you left the cafeteria, leaving even more gossip behind you but at least it was about the kiss rather than rumors of you both being gay.

Fuck the high school rumor mill.

#Reggie Mantle #Reggie Mantle oneshot #Reggie Mantle x reader #Riverdale #Riverdale oneshots #oneshot #oneshots #reggiem #request

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mangobilorian · 4 years

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before i die, i’m tryna fuck you, baby | (explicit)

Kix x F! Reader

Words: 4158

"A leg hooks around his waist, tugging him closer, and Kix has to stop himself from careening into your half-naked body. Lips attach to his, and there’s nothing soft there, only teeth and tongue and heat."

Tags: [Dubious Consent][Sex Pollen][Fuck or Die][Oral Sex][Rough Sex][Doggy][Missionary]

Read on AO3 here

Kix is furious. For many reasons, the first being the lack of planning on General Skywalker’s part and, being a soldier in the 501st for so long, Kix is not surprised. But it doesn’t mean he has to accept or condone it.

Kix also hates how the entire situation went wrong when it shouldn’t have, despite General Skywalker’s disastrous plan. Because his idea, though reckless and unsafe, would have at least kept most of the men out of danger. They had prepared for the Seppie advance on the eastern front, keeping most of the fire and manpower there, which left the west and north sparsely guarded.

But no, the Seppies just had to come from the west, trapping a portion of the troops in the scary, unknown forest full of chemicals.

Rex and the ARCs got most of the men out in time thankfully. Kix counted them as they passed by, the sealed helmets keeping out most, if not all, of the strange chemicals the flowers produced. Peter, Lens, Nero. Lloyd, Gadget, Boot. Regs, Gearshift, Mezro. Wait no, not Mezro, that was Fives. But that meant-

You had arrived at the same conclusion Kix had.

Which leads to the biggest reason why Kix is furious. The rescued troopers, though not exposed, still suffered injuries from the droids they had encountered. Fives, Echo, and Rex would have gone back into the forest for Mezro, but the crashing sound of another droid battalion called their attention elsewhere.

When he had looked back for you, you were already running into the forest without the proper gear. Which, as a nurse, was a stupid thing to do. And, as Kix’s girlfriend (isn’t that a nice thing to say), you should’ve known better. But you’re too brash, too headstrong, too willing to sacrifice yourself if it meant others would live. Sometimes Kix wonders if you would be better as a soldier than a nurse but- only clones served and died for the Republic.

He paces around the base, his path blocked by Jesse and Echo.

“It’ll be okay, Kix. She’s fine,” Echo reasons. “The General and Rex are out there looking for her and Mezro.” Kix knows that. He knows he shouldn’t worry. Because Skywalker is one of the best Jedi and Rex is one of the best clones, and they’ll make it back with you and Mezro in tow.

But that still doesn’t stop him from being angry. Yes, part of it is at you, even though it feels wrong. You don’t deserve his negative emotions, but you’re too damn reckless and caring to ever think about yourself.

Kix will always care for you, but sometimes it’s hard when he also has a hundred brothers to care for. Instead of running after you, he patched up Reg’s knee and Lloyd’s arm. He gave Gearshift some meds, Gadget a stim, and used the bone mender on Nero’s shin. Kix helped them before he could feed all his energy into waiting for you.

He helped them despite wanting to dash after you immediately. Because his brothers need him just as much as Mezro needs you to come back and save him. It also kills Kix a little on the inside that, if he had to choose, he’d probably pick you over his brothers.

A traitor, he’d call himself. A man in love, Fives would say, winking, wishing for his own cyare. If only Fives knew how much work it takes to be in a healthy, loving relationship. How much work it takes to love someone during a war.

“She didn’t have proper gear, Echo. What if the chemicals kill her? What then?” And oh how that thought pains him so much. Kix doesn’t know how he could survive your death. He can’t just light a pyre and sing a song like he does for his vod. The love he has for his brothers is strong like their plastoid armor, strong enough that the death of a brother won’t shatter him, and he can wish them well as they walk to the next life.

But you? Fuck, Kix would grieve for you for eternity.

“Look, Rex brought an extra helmet for her and some meds. If she’s sick, the meds will tide her over until she gets the medical help she needs,” Jesse says, placing hands on Kix’s shoulders. His own face stares back at him, but instead of the worry and concern Kix feels, he sees determination. “And when she and Mezro come back, you need to be strong for her.”

“I know. It’s just that- I should’ve been the one to find Mezro.” Echo shakes his head.

“She’s a great nurse, but she doesn’t have nearly as much experience as you do with combat medicine. Yeah, she’s been with us for a year, but you know clone bio better than any civvie.” Kix sighs, but the anger lingers. It’s ebbing away, yes, because his brothers always know how to calm him down but- he knows he’d be a lot calmer if you were here. Here and happy and home with him.

“Fives!” Kix, Jesse, and Echo turn at the sound of Rex’s voice, strained and hampered. The ARC trooper hurries to the edge of the forest where General Skywalker walks, arms full with a limp Mezro. In Rex’s arms, you sag, head lolling around in the much-too-large helmet.

Kix’s first instinct is to run over and take you away, hiding you from prying eyes and keeping you safe. But Jesse’s arm tugs on the crook of his elbow. “See, she’s back. Get your head straight, Kix, so you can help her.” Kix nods, a little dazed, and walks forward at a slower pace than he’d like.

“Mezro has a broken ankle and shattered hip bone, I think,” General Skywalker says gently handing the injured trooper off to Fives and Echo. “But your girl’s fine, Kix.” For a moment, Kix feels guilty. He spent so much time worrying over you when Mezro had worse injuries. Injuries that could put him off of duty for a while, and he knows, compared to many brothers, that Mezro has a larger thirst for droid deaths than most. Which was probably one of the reasons he had stayed behind, determined to kill every last B1 on field.

“Right, I’ll take a look at him. Will you…?”

“Yeah, I’ll take her to your quarters,” Rex replies. “I did a quick scan, and her vitals seem fine, but-”

“But what?”

“She keeps asking for you. And squirming. The general put a sleep suggestion on her. It was… weird and a little disturbing. She wouldn’t even let me approach until I said your name,” Rex shrugs as best as he can while carrying your weight.

Squirming, signs of distress… Kix doesn’t like what he’s hearing. But at least you seem fine.

“All right. I’d best work on Mezro. Jesse, remind me in ten minutes to give Peter and Nero another shot of the antibacterial.” Kix helps Echo and Fives lower Mezro onto a bed wheeled out from the medbay. “Thank you,” he says, turning to Rex, then to his general. “For saving her.”

“Of course, Kix,” General Skywalker responds. “I’d do the same if I were you.” His general’s face flushes a deep red. “Not that I- uh- even know what relationships are like. Or anything.” At his troopers' knowing looks, the Hero With No Fear dashes away with an awkward smile. Right. He’s probably off to comm Senator Amidala.

Kix spares one last glance at your unconscious form, carried away by Rex before turning his attention to Mezro. Jesse claps a hand on his back, covered hand meeting hard plastoid, and waltzes away, the ARCs in tow. He wheels Mezro to the makeshift med bay, minding the other injured troopers.

Mezro wakes up about halfway through Kix fixing his ankle with the bone-mender. Groggy and in pain, Mezro mutters nonsensical things. Like how you were an angel who came to save him. And how the angel cried for Kix before falling to the ground. Kix administers a pain reliever right before Mezro goes back to sleep, and Kix is left with more questions than before.

He gets to work on Mezro’s hip and feels placated by the fact that Mezro probably only needs two weeks of recovery before being put on light duty then another week of waiting to get shipped to active. Most nat-born medics, even you, are surprised at the clones’ growth rate. But Kix isn’t. He’s proud. Because his brothers are the best kriffing soldiers in the galaxy, so of course they’ll heal faster too.

All in all, Kix finishes up with Mezro’s injuries in less than an hour, despite leaving to administer anti-bac to Peter and Nero and checking up on Lloyd’s arm. He gives the trooper a small pat on the shoulder, leaving him sleeping and patched up.

Kix’s stomach ties itself into knots the closer he approaches his quarters. He had Jesse do another scan while Kix worked on Mezro, too nervous to see you. Jesse had come back saying you were physically fine, but mentally… off. Apparently you kept calling for Kix over and over again. To the point where you were moaning in pain. He doesn’t know of any disease that would warrant that response.

He pushes the door open to find you sprawled across his bed. Your eyes open a little bit, glazed and confused. But you immediately spring up in recognition, and try to get out of bed. Kix stops you in time as you almost fall off in excitement, placing you down to sit on the edge.

“Kix,” you breathe. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too. How do you feel?” You shake your head, hands reaching out to unclasp his chest plate. He lets you, arching a brow when you moan as soon as you drop his armor on the floor, fingers tracing his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Please, Kix, I- need you- want- inside-”

Your hand reaches behind his back to the zipper of his blacks and tug down. Before his bare chest is revealed though, Kix grabs at your wrists, gently pushing you away. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, why you’re so excited for him to the point of speaking incoherently. “What’s happening?” He brushes his knuckles over your forehead then your neck to find you burning.

Kriff, you definitely have a fever. Kix doesn’t know how Jesse and Rex forgot to mention that to him. He places a palm on your neck again, worrying more and more as you feel like pure fire. “Sweetheart, you need to listen to me.”

You shake your head, eyes glazed over, tongue lolling out of your mouth. You look like every fantasy Kix has at night, every inch the sexy goddess you are but- Kix doesn’t entertain those thoughts. Especially since you’re sick.

When your knee brushes against his inner thigh, Kix curses loudly. That seems to startle you out of your haze, and you back off a bit, mouth closing. Sighing, Kix leans in to take your shirt off and finds the fabric soaked with sweat. Fuck, how did no one notice? Is everyone in the goddamn GAR incompetent?

Once your chest meets open air, though, you try to unclasp your bra, pushing your chest into Kix. “Please,” you moan— no, mewl— eyes half-lidded. “Need you now, Kix. Want you- fuck- really really really-”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” he says, gently wiping your wet back with your discarded shirt. He still doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he’s determined to help you, to stop whatever is going on. Whatever it takes. “Lean back for me, okay? I’m just going to take your pants off and put you in some clean clothes. Clear?” You nod, but Kix can tell you don’t really understand what he’s saying. It hurts his chest to see you so out of it.

He unclasps the button holding your pants closed and slides them down your legs. At any other time, he’d ogle you, watch intently as each inch of skin reveals itself to him. But right now, when you’re not in your right mind, Kix can only focus on getting you the help you need. His fantasies can wait.

Except it’s hard to shove horny thoughts out of his head when the first thing you do once your pants are gone is shove a hand into your panties and begin rubbing yourself.

Fuck.

“I don’t think that’s a very good-”

A leg hooks around his waist, tugging him closer, and Kix has to stop himself from careening into your half-naked body. Lips attach to his, and there’s nothing soft there, only teeth and tongue and heat. His head empties then fills with one word.

You.

You. Sucking his cock. Taking him from behind. Riding him in full armor. Fingering yourself. You, you, you-

“H-hurts,” you whisper, and Kix jolts back like he’s been burnt. In fact, he feels like he’s been burnt because every place you touch him— his lips, his face, his fucking thigh— tingles with a sensation akin to fire.

Kix stares at you in horror. You’re hurt, and all he can do is thirst over you? Kriffing hells, he’s a monster, not the gallant medic trooper you think he is.

“Where does it hurt? Give me a number on the scale for pain, sweetheart. Can you do that for-”

“Ten!” you gasp, “everywhere, b-but it’s thirteen down here,” you point to your underwear. Kix watches as clear fluid drips and coats your thighs. “Please, please, please, need you i-in me, please Kix, m-more, I can’t, I-”

Fuck, you look like you’re on the verge of tears, face flushed and contorted in pain. But he can only watch as you rub yourself furiously, not stopping even when Kix knows the pressure you’re applying is painful. Kriff— you said you “need” him and want him to- to

“If I penetrate you, will you feel better?” Kix cringes at the wording, but he needs to make things clear, so he doesn’t hurt you or take advantage of your distressed state. You nod frantically in reply, pulling him closer until his armored thigh brushes against your center, and you grind against him.

For the first time, Kix registers how tight his blacks are. Fuck. He makes quick work of his codpiece, opening the zipper of his lower blacks, groaning in relief as his impossibly hard cock springs up to smack his stomach. You give a happy gasp, free hand reaching to him, and he can’t stop you— can’t do anything— as you begin rubbing him with the same pressure you use on yourself.

And fuck- it feels good, your soft hand against his most sensitive part, but you’re going a little too hard, a little too fast, and Kix— though hard as plastoid— isn’t producing nearly enough precum to lubricate himself. So when you pull at the skin of his cock just a tad harder, he has no choice but to back off with a wince, his dick bouncing back to his stomach.

You pout at him, and he can see a stray tear slide down your cheek and- fuck, he leans over to kiss you, replacing the hand in your underwear with his own. If this is going to happen, Kix will make sure he does it right.

As he dips two fingers inside you, he can already tell you’re more than prepared for him. He sneaks a look to the edge of the bed and sees your underwear and the spot you’re sitting on soaked with your fluids. And kriff, it’s hot as fuck.

Groaning, he guides you to lay on the bed, and you open your legs wide, knees butterflying on either side of you. Kix can only gulp as you tug your bra down, not even unclasping it, so that your tits can spring free. With both hands on each breast, you squeeze and pinch, moaning all the while.

“Kiiiiiix. N-now, ne-need you right- fuck- deep in me,” you gasp. Kix can only surge forward, not bothering to slip your underwear off and sliding himself between your folds. As the underside of his head brushes past your clit, you moan loudly, loud enough that anyone passing by could hear you, but Kix doesn’t bother telling you to stay quiet.

“I’m going to push in now, okay, sweetheart? Is that good?” You bite your lip as you shoot him a glare.

“Fuck me, now, Kix, or else-” His head squeezes past your folds and into your cunt, all wet and tight, and Kix feels every nerve erupt into flames.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, pushing in until he bottoms out. He stays there for a bit, both of you panting. You look fucked out despite barely any foreplay or real sex, hair fanning across the bed, lips swollen. Kix wonders how he looks, if he looks as sexy to you as you to him.

You hook your legs around his waist and move your hips up in time for him to thrust. With your legs trapping him, he can’t thrust as hard or deep as he wants to. So he grinds into you, pressing himself as deep as he can into your warm core. You moan into his mouth when he kisses you, gasping when he bites at your neck. Kix can feel your new wave of arousal as he sucks a hickey above your collarbone, almost bursting when you squeeze tightly around him.

He wants to fuck you hard and fast, though, so he pushes your legs away from his waist, braces one hand on the bed as the other grips your hips, and starts pistoning into you. The movement is rough enough for your breasts to bounce, and Kix watches as your fingers dance to your clit, rubbing yourself with as much speed and urgency as before.

You arch your back as Kix thrusts upwards, muttering incoherent phrases about how his cock makes you feel so good, how he’s strong and handsome and how you want him to have your babies. And fuck- the thought of you full with his child, breasts even larger almost makes him spill mid thrust.

“You want that, sweetheart? Want me to- kriff- fuck a baby into you?” You nod, tears spilling from your eyes, lips bleeding. Your cunt seems to agree because you squeeze tight, tight, tighter than he thought possible, and he squeezes your hip to tell you to ease up a little because he’s still a human after all; he has to be a kriffing god to resist you.

But you don’t loosen up, still squeezing until Kix’s left with no choice but to pull away. You scream when he does, and Kix’s chest hurts enough at the sound that he wants to pound back inside you to keep you happy. But he has enough sense to flip you over, so your ass sticks up in the air, and he gives you a gentle slap, which you respond to with a soft moan.

The scene of you on your elbows and knees, cunt dripping with clear fluid, body flushed and trembling is so erotic that Kix feels like he has to pay to see you like this. “Kix, now ple-ase, ugh-”

He enters you in one go, and you both groan. Kix reaches so much deeper in this position, and he immediately starts pounding at your ass, one hand tight on your hip as the other reaches around to paw at your chest. It takes two, maybe three thrusts for you to scream into the sheets, cunt tightening more than he thought possible.

The sensation is way too much for both his cock and his brain, and he finishes much earlier than he wanted. Fuck- he might as well use it to his advantage though, so he pulls your hips closer to his and leans over, his cum staying deep inside you.

It feels nice to be connected like this, chest heaving against your back, mouth nipping at your shoulder. It’s nice and Kix can stay here forever, comfortable and sated.

Until you start moving against him again, commanding him to keep fucking you. But he’s so tired, and his cock starts to get way too sensitive, so he pulls away and a trickle of white follows. Kix watches your cunt flutter, entranced as more of his release escapes you. He takes two fingers to push them back in, and you gasp when he re-enters you.

“M-more, please. Kix?” You roll onto your back, legs opening wide to trap Kix between them. “More?” you plead, eyeing his softening cock. Fuck, he really wishes he were hard again, so he can fuck you until you feel better, but he’s only one man, and clones— though engineered humans— can’t get erections that soon.

So he does the only thing that comes to mind.

He kneels down so his mouth is level with your cunt, wraps his hands around your thighs to tug you closer, and dives in.

Kix tastes his release, bitter and salty, but he mostly tastes you. He brushes his nose against your clit, and you wriggle away only for Kix to pull you back. His tongue enters you briefly, but he knows it’s not long enough to bring you any real pleasure, so he replaces his tongue with two, no, three fingers, and curves them upwards to reach that ultra sensitive spot they don’t teach in clone medic classes.

Satisfied at your mumblings of pleasure, he circles his tongue around your clit, alternating between different patterns to no patterns at all.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck- Kix, I- fucking love you- kriff- your tongue, I-”

He increases the pace of his fingers as he sucks on your clit, groaning as one of your hands grabs onto his hair and tugs. Kix sneaks a glance upwards and sees one of your hands massaging your right nipple, and fuck- Kix would love to be the one to do that.

But right now his job is to eat you out like a starved man, and he’ll do the best fucking job he can. He feels like he’s drowning in your cunt, streams of your arousal staining his cheeks, his swollen lips, his chin. There’s only one thing that exists for him right now and that’s your aching body.

It doesn’t take long— in fact, it happens sooner than Kix would like— for you to climax with his name on your lips. He continues finger fucking you, though, until you squirm away with a giggle. He notes, with pride, that your temp seems to be back to normal, no longer feverish. The biology of that, Kix will ponder on later, but at least he knows you feel a little better.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you smile, eyes drooping closed, “really good. Thank you,” you rasp. Kix moves your body to lie properly on the bed, with your head on his pillow and a blanket covering your body. He helps unclasp your bra then takes off your soaking wet underwear. It’s only when he tries to snuggle next to you that you stop him.

“What’s wrong? Do you still hurt?” You laugh, lips curling into a shape Kix wants to kiss forever.

“Aren’t you going to take care of that?” you ask, pointing at him with your chin. Following your gaze, he trails his eyes down his chest to his stomach where-

Where his stiff cock stands proudly. Not the hardest he’s ever been, but hard enough to warrant action. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” you laugh breathily. “Round two?”

“Are you serious? We just- you just-”

“Kix,” you pout, “most of the chemical is out of my system. Not all of it though.” The chemical. Who knew the flowers produced a highly potent aphrodisiac? Before he could recall more facts about the planet’s flora, you tug the blanket downwards to reveal your bare chest. “And I need you right now,” you plead, eyes shining with desire.

“Are you sure? I just want to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart. You know that.” You roll your eyes, tongue darting out to lick at your lips.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll have to get help somewhere else.” Streaks of red flash through Kix’s eyes at the insinuation and he lunges at you, pulling you into his lap. You giggle all the while, nipping at his shoulders when he has most of you splayed across his thighs.

“Now that isn’t good medic-patient protocol, is it?”

“Nope,” you giggle. Kix imagines you riding him like this, grinding hard and fast as he thrusts upwards to meet your hips. He guides his cock to your center, both of you groaning as he slips inside easily.

“I guess it’s time for your next dosage, sweetheart,” he grins, and you lean into his lips as he takes you exactly how he fantasized.

[a/n] I hope you like this! Kix is the first of the many beloved SW boys I will be writing about. So far, I have unedited stories for Boba, Maul, and Wolffe. Let me know which one you want to see next! The Boba one is particularly long (over 7k words), so if you want that, I need a little more time.

Be sure to check me out on AO3 too! I usually upload stuff there hours before I do on Tumblr.

#kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone medic kix x reader #clone trooper smut #star wars fanfiction

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sunsetcurbed · 4 years

Text

i’ll keep us together (whatever it takes)

Pairing: Alex/Willie Words: 9,237 Rating: T Warnings: none read on AO3

Summary: “Willie,” Julie’s voice sounds. “Hey, Julie,” Willie greets. “I—uh—“ “Can Alex not see you?” she whispers. Okay, so… right. Right. This is a thing. (*) (or: alex has changed, and he's all but taken away from willie. willie doesn't settle for that.) I found out that apparently tumblr doesn’t post link posts in the tags unless they get a lot of notes so I’m reposting this as a text post and also posting the fic here on tumblr as well! Fic under the read more. :)

(*)

"Hey," Willie cheers, watching as Alex walks into the garage, head hanging down. Alex doesn't look up, just walks over and flops dramatically on the couch. Willie laughs at his boyfriend, and follows over. "Hey, hot dog," he calls again. Alex still doesn't look up. Furrowing his eyebrows, Willie crouches down next to him and reaches out to shake Alex's shoulder.

His hand passes through.

Willie draws his hand back quickly in surprise, and stares down at it. He reaches again, and again, his hand passes through Alex.

He scrambles to his feet and looks around. Something's wrong. Something—he's not sure what's going on, but something…

He steps back, and back, and back, until he's standing in the middle of the studio, and rushes through the open door. He stands in the driveway for a minute, struggling with his thoughts, until—

"Willie," Julie's voice whispers.

His head snaps up and he sees her walking down the pathway from her house. They found out last year that Julie could see all ghosts, and that her power extended beyond they band in that aspect. Unfortunately, Willie didn't share their powers in becoming visible when playing an instrument, which was one of the first things they tried, right after trying to rid Willie of Caleb's stamp. Neither had worked.

"Hey, Julie," Willie greets. "I—uh—"

"Can he not see you?" she whispers.

Okay, so… right. Right. This is a thing. She already knew about it, which—

"No. Why can't he?"

Julie walks towards him and offers a smile. But it's—it's a sad smile, one that Willie knows is accompanied by bad news. Suddenly, he regrets asking. "He's alive."

What?

No, seriously, what?

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know… unfinished business. Does… do you know if 'crossing over' means back to the world of the living?"

"I—I-I don't know? I wouldn't think so? I've never see someone cross over. I just thought…"

"We did, too," Julie says. "But the guys… we signed today. With a record label."

"What? That's awesome!" Alex had mentioned Destiny Management but he hadn't said they were officially signing.

"It is," she says, but her voice doesn't sound like it. "After each one of them signed, they came back to life, though. Heart, blood, eating, sleeping, everything."

Willie shakes his head. "But they should have…"

"We always thought that when they did their unfinished business, they'd… go to heaven, or whatever. But apparently crossing over, at least for them, meant crossing over back to the living."

"So Alex…"

"He's not like me," Julie frowns. "He can't see you."

"Fuck," Willie curses. There's a noise in the studio, and Willie turns around and sees Alex through the window, walking towards the driveway. "I—I gotta go," he stammers, and then he's gone from there and landing in the sand on the beach, where he had thought he and Alex would spend their time tonight.

Fuck, he thinks. All the pain the last year and a half has brought—the battle with Caleb for his soul, the fight between them all with Caleb, defeating the man who'd held him captive for years, and finally getting to be with Alex, stress free—all that pain and stress were for nothing, weren't they? Because Willie doesn't even have Alex anymore, the person who inspired him to fight back. The person who made it worth it. The person who was there to hold him after Caleb's hold on him broke will never be able to hold him again.

Not unless—

Willie's got work to do.

(*)

The next time Willie sees Alex is at the skate park, three months after it happened. Alex is leaning on the fence, staring at the bowl with sad eyes. He watches the people in the park fly up and down the ramps, and clings to the fence with a tight fist. Willie skates out of the park and passes through the fence to stand next to Alex.

"I miss you, too," he says, knowing that Alex can't hear him. "I mean, I haven't gone to Julie's studio looking for you like you're here, but. It's different when I can see you. You're living with the memory of me. I'm living with the reality of seeing you and hearing you, but not being able to interact."

Alex looks away from the skate park and towards the beach. His fingers curl tighter around the chain link fence until his knuckles turn white.

"I'm trying for you, man," Willie says, his voice high and tight. "I don't even know if I'll become human again like you did, but it's worth a shot. Even if I don't become human, at least I'll cross over and I won't have to be alone anymore. Maybe? I don't actually know where I'd go if I didn't become human again. I might still be alone. There might not be anything waiting for me. That's not as scary as having to live for an eternity without you, though. Or, not without you, but. Like this. Having you but… not really."

Alex draws in a shaky breath, and Willie poofs to his other side to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are wet and he's chewing his bottom lip. He's doing everything he can not to cry, and that breaks Willie.

"I'm sorry," Willie whimpers. "I know I meant it way back when, when I said we never should have met, but that was because I almost got you guys killed. Once you were better, I didn't think I could ever feel that way again. But maybe I was right, even beyond that. Maybe it would be better if we'd never met. It'd be better for you." He reaches out a hand for Alex, but quickly drops it back to his side when he remembers he can't make contact anymore. He draws in a deep breath, but it hitches involuntarily. "But we did meet. We did, and now you have to live with the consequences of that. Is that what they are? Consequences? I guess so. I wish I could undo this all. Not—not you getting a second chance at life. You deserve it. But… I wish I could undo us."

Alex releases his grip on the fence and walks forward, right through Willie. Willie spins on his heel and watches Alex take a seat on a bench a few feet away. He looks up and around and finally, the tears fall from his eyes. Willie feels sick.

"No, I don't," he says in a rush. "God, I wish I wished I could undo us but I could never willingly give you up, Alex. No matter how much it hurts. Even though you're hurting I know you'll move on. That's how it works, right? God, we were only together for a little over a year, we only knew each other for a year and a half. That's hardly a lifetime love story, right? You'll find someone better—someone alive, and… and…"

And Willie can't do this anymore.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, taking in one last look at Alex's tearful face before poofing away.

(*)

The next time, he finds Alex at his grave. At Alex's grave.

See, Alex had asked him to go with him back in January. He'd needed to see what his tombstone said (Alex Mercer / December 18th 1978 – July 21st 1995 / Your song will live on forever.) and come to terms, fully, with his death. Willie had been more than happy to go with him, to hold him through his tears as he saw that his parents had actually put something dedicated to him, even if it was as small as an acknowledgment to his music. Ever since Alex crossed over, Willie has come here a few times a month to talk to the boy, because it's easier talking to a grave than it is to a person who won't respond.

When Willie reaches the grave, Alex is just standing there, staring at the headstone. He doesn't say anything, and neither does Willie. Instead, Willie looks around for another tomb with flowers on it. When he finds one, he plucks a single flower from the bouquet and walks over to Alex's grave again, and lays the flower down on the headstone.

Alex gasps. "Hello?" he murmurs. "Is… Willie?" he asks hopefully.

Willie doesn't have the heart to ignore him, so he picks the flower up again and hands it to the boy. Alex takes it reluctantly. "I miss you," Willie says, even though he knows Alex won't hear him.

"I miss you," Alex says, and Willie blinks. "God, I—I'm not even allowed to be upset about crossing over because I… I get to be with my band, and I'm, Willie, we're fucking going on tour. We're only opening, but we're touring. They think we'll be headlining our own tour in the next year or two. How am I supposed to be upset about that, right? But I—but I am. Because I have to do it without you and that's—that's not fair. That wasn't part of the deal, right? We were supposed to be fucking ghosts together. Not… God, I feel so ripped off. Julie said she could still see you, she didn't want to tell me but didn't think it was fair to keep it from me. Why can't I? Why the fuck can't I? I was a ghost and I can't see you anymore? Just because—just because I have blood in my veins again? You made me feel alive. You brought me back to life. And now I'm in this weird pseudo life phase where I'm actually alive but I feel just like I did when I came back as a ghost. Before I met you."

He shakes his head and Willie takes a step closer. He reaches out, but before he can try to lay a hand on Alex's arm, he remembers. He drops his hand.

"Reg says I'll move on, used that stupid 'you'll never forget your first ghost' line again, but that only worked when we'd known each other for two weeks. Two weeks and I was already moping over you, and then you were taken away after an entire year, after I—after I—it's not fair," Alex huffs. "I sound like such a child but it's not. Julie and Luke got their happy ending. Fuck, even Reg has someone now. Of course it probably won't last—after all it's his third relationship in five months, but. But he has that option. And I—Ray's making us go to school to finish off senior year and this kid from chemistry asked me out but—I'm not ready for that. God, I'm scared I'll never be ready for that. Luke told me to go for it, that maybe I need to be with someone to get my mind off of you, but I know that all I'll do is compare the two of you."

Tears are falling freely from Alex's eyes, and Willie wants nothing more than to reach up and brush them away, just like he did the last time they were at this grave together. He takes the flower from Alex's hand, plucks a petal off, and uses it as a towel to wipe Alex's face dry. Alex tosses his head back and laughs.

"Thank you," he says. He's quiet for a long moment, and Willie thinks he said everything that needed to be said. But then he draws in a deep breath. "I… I think one of the worst parts is that I never got to say goodbye. That I'll never get closure. Did you get as much out of our relationship as I did? Was it worth it to you? Are you hurting, too?" He pauses. His voice drops in to a whisper as he asks, "did you love me like I loved you?"

Willie frowns, and hands the flower back to Alex. Alex wraps his fingers around the stem, and toys with the petals with his other hand.

"See, I don't even know what you're trying to say, here," Alex admits. "I'm hoping you're saying yes, but maybe you're not. What if you're not even Willie, just a kind ghost who noticed I needed someone?" Willie grabs the flower out of Alex's hand, raises it up, and bonks Alex's forehead with it. "Okay, maybe not," he says, and there's a laugh in his voice, but there are tears in his eyes. He laughs then, but it comes out as a sob instead and he stumbles back. "Fuck," he says slowly.

Willie twirls the flower between his fingers and watches as Alex just… stares. He's just staring at the flower, disbelieving.

"I… God, I'm so relieved you're here, but it hurts so bad that I can't see you, you know? But—do you have it any easier? Being able to see me and hear me but knowing I can't see or hear or feel you? I feel like that'd be just as hard. I remember how helpless I felt when I was a ghost. This isn't—this isn't fair. Last year we had eternity together. And—that just gets ripped away? Do you even care—" Willie hits him with the flower again. "—okay. So you do. We both cared. So much. And… now look at us. I'm essentially talking to myself, on the verge of a panic attack, and you're… You're visiting my grave. I'm visiting my grave. Fuck this is all so fucked. I miss you."

Willie hands the flower back to Alex, hoping that he'll pick up that Willie misses him too.

Alex stares at the petals and draws in a breath. "I just wish—"

"Hey, mijo," a new voice comes in. Willie whips around to see the approaching figure, a tall, slim man with greying hair. He recognizes him as Julie's dad, and while he's never directly interacted with the man, hanging around with Alex and the band so much last year meant he could at least pick him out of a crowd. Julie's dad walks up beside Alex and looks down at the head stone. "Wow, that's really you."

Alex laughs. "Yeah. I really died. That's why I come here. To remind myself my entire experience as a ghost wasn't some weird fever dream. That it…" he looks down at the flower and holds it up to Julie's dad. "That it was all real."

"That'd be some fever dream," Julie's dad chuckles, clapping a hand on Alex's shoulder. For a moment, Willie expects the man's hand to pass right through, but when it doesn't, he cringes. Yet another reminder. "Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yeah, thanks for coming to get me. Can I just have one more minute? I'll meet you at the car?"

"Of course, mijo."

Julie's dad walks away and Alex stares at his headstone. "I miss you, Willie. I hope you run into me again," he says with a light in his voice, and Willie is taken back to their very first meeting. He reaches for the flower and takes it from Alex, bopping his face one more time. Then he passes the flower back, and Alex looks at it with wonderment on his face. "Bye," he murmurs, and then turns to walk towards the parked car waiting for him.

Willie waits until Alex slides into the passenger seat and shuts the door before drawing in a shaky breath and poofing away.

(*)

He can't stay away after that.

He knows Alex is living with Julie now (the Molinas, according to the painted stone next to their porch) so he stops by after school hours to just… see him. Alex, of course, has no idea that he's there, at least not at first. But then Willie starts to get bolder.

Alex will be sat at the dining room table doing his homework and Willie will see him answer a calculus problem wrong. When Alex walks away for a snack, Willie will take a piece of notebook paper out and redo the problem(s). When Alex gets back he looks around with a frown. He clearly isn't sure if it's Willie or not, and Willie's not sure he wants him to know, not until a few weeks in when he finds Alex crying in the studio. He's clearly on the verge of a panic attack, something that Willie'd seen many times, and helped him through multiple times. He's never felt so helpless, watching Alex breaking down and not being able to do anything.

He can, though, he realizes.

He goes into Alex's notebook and grabs a pen.

Hey, hot dog.

Alex drags in a shaky breath when the pen starts moving by itself, and once he reads the message he lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "Willie," he whispers.

What can I do to help?

Alex smiles at the paper. "Nothing, you're—you being here helps."

Do you need to do breathing exercises? You can follow the pen.

"No," Alex shakes his head. "No, I'm good. Just—just talk to me?"

Can't talk. How's writing?

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I meant, asshole."

Guilty.

"How have you been? Where have you been? Why is this the first time you're—that you've actually contacted me?"

I've been around. I'd say correcting your calc homework counts as contacting you. It's me saying "wow you suck at math, which you've told me in the past but now I have hardcore proof."

He can't tell him that he's been trying to work out his unfinished business. He can't give Alex hope where there might not be any—not when there's no promise that Willie will figure out his unfinished business, and not when there's no promise he'll come back to life. He wants Alex to know he's trying—trying for him, but it's not fair. None of this is fair, but that'd be… really unfair to Alex. Especially if he's sitting here hoping for Willie to come back to life and one day he realizes it's been months since he's heard from Willie and Willie has no way to tell him that he's crossed over, but not to the living. It's all… it's too complicated. Willie doesn't even think he'd be able to put it into words.

"Hey, I've been doing pretty good in calc!" Alex yells. "I have a B, thanks."

"Thanks." You're welcome. I'm the reason you have a B.

Alex opens his mouth, then shuts it. "You know, you're probably right. You working out those problems is actually really helpful and helps me understand what I did wrong."

I've always needed to see someone do the math before I got it, maybe you're the same.

"Probably." Alex sighs, running his hands through his hair. He's stopped crying, but his face is still red and puffy, and his breathing is still labored. "How have you been though? I… you can see me, I can't see you. Are you okay?"

I miss you, but that's to be expected. Life Death has been a lot lately. I'm surviving okay though.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Alex asks, voice genuine. Willie bites his lip. God, he—this is why he fell in love with this boy. Even on the verge of a panic attack he wants to help someone else.

No. You being here helps.

"Hey, that's my line."

I'm stealing it.

Alex laughs, and his breath evens out a little bit. "Should have known, you can't be as smooth as me."

I'm sorry, who had the gay panic when we met? And every time we saw each other for literally the next four months? Who RAN AWAY after kissing me? You want to talk about smooth?

"Those were very weak moments in my life, I ask you to forget everything before we started dating and only remember me as charming."

Oh, trust me, the gay panic was very charming, too.

"See, maybe it was all a ploy. My gay panic was me being smooth."

I wouldn't take it that far.

"Too late you already admitted it."

Willie laughs and reaches for Alex's hand, forgetting for just a moment. It passes through the other boy and he grimaces. He draws his hand back and tucks his hair behind his ear, and stares at the paper in front of him.

So what's it like recording an album? Everything you ever dreamed of?

"Oh, man, it's so cool," Alex gushes. Words fly out his mouth so fast that Willie struggles to keep up, but he just lets Alex's voice wash over him. The switch has been flipped—Alex is no longer panicking, and Willie's loneliness has ebbed.

It carries on like this for nearly an hour, Willie fills up two and a half sheets of paper, and Alex is careful to fold each one and stick it in his pocket. Willie knows he'll be storing them somewhere in his room. It's what Willie would do, anyways, and in certain regards, Alex and Willie are very similar. He's careful not to reveal too much to Alex, though. He doesn't want Alex to feel guilty, or to cling to hope, or…

He doesn't want to tell Alex he loves him on a sheet of paper. He can't do that to either of them—that'd be giving Alex too much to cling to, and it'd be taking away Willie's dream of telling him face to face. So when it's time for them to say goodbye (Alex looks at the clock, frowning. "The band is gonna be here in ten minutes for practice.") Willie simply scribbles down I'll see you around, hot dog. Alex's face goes soft, and Willie can't stop staring at it.

He wishes he could stay for band practice, but he can't face Julie. He can't, not when it'd break him to be able to talk with her and not the one person he really wants to talk to. He also thinks it might be too hard on Alex, to see Julie see Willie, and know that he can't. It'd be too hard on both of them, so once Alex says goodbye, he poofs away. He ends up on the streets of Hollywood and looks around. He sets his skateboard on the ground and skates off, aimlessly.

He has nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

(*)

Willie keeps correcting his calc homework, but now Alex knows who it is and starts thanking him. They have a few more half-written, half-spoken conversations over the next few months, but Willie tries to limit them so Alex doesn't get too attached.

(He laughs as he thinks that, understanding that Alex has always been attached, and interacting with him is only encouraging that. But Willie can't stay away, okay?)

He sees Luke and Reggie some, after all, the boys spend a��lot of time in the studio together, especially when Julie is hanging out with Flynn. Willie never talks to Alex at these times, but sometimes he'll speak out loud, answer parts of the conversation that the guys are having, even though he knows they can't hear him.

(Yeah, okay, he's dangerously attached, too.)

He avoids Julie at all costs, he doesn't want her to know, and he knows Alex hasn't told any of them because Alex has said he hasn't told any of them, so. Willie believes him and knows why. Because Alex knows Julie would ask Willie to let Alex move on, and… honestly, neither Alex or Willie are ready for that.

"Technically you're still my boyfriend," Alex says one day. "We never broke up."

It's almost our two year anniversary.

"Yeah," Alex nods. "Two more months. God, it's been nine months without you?"

Not technically without me. I've been around a lot.

"It's been nine months since I last saw you," he amends. He rubs his eyes. "That's too damn long."

It's been nine months since I've held your hand. :(

Alex shakes his head. "I always felt bad for Julie and Luke, but… I never… it never clicked how hard it must have been before she could touch us. At least she could see and talk to us, though. Why can't I have her powers?"

Would her powers really be worth it? Because I can tell you that it SUCKS being able to see you but not being able to touch you. It's torture.

"Maybe you only say that because you've never had to sit alone talking to a piece of notebook paper before," Alex shoots back, but he's smiling.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Smiling. Willie knows it's because of him—he knows Alex and it's not hard to put two and two together. It's hard to miss the way Alex physically brightens every time he knows Willie is there, and the way he reaches for calculus homework before anything else, and leaves his calculus out sitting next to him when he's working on all of his other homework, as if calling for Willie. It works, too, most of the time. When Willie's not out trying to resolve his unfinished business, he's around the Molina household, avoiding Julie.

That had created an issue—Alex quickly realized that Willie disappeared whenever Julie came around, so he stopped hanging around Julie as much. Julie had tried apologizing for "whatever I did, Alex, I'm so sorry." Alex had to patiently tell her that it was nothing—he was just dealing with some personal problems and he ran away from the guys, too. She had tried to offer help, but he said he dealt better with problems on his own, which Willie laughed at when Alex recounted the conversation because Alex was helpless dealing with his issues alone. He told him as much and Alex flipped off the air in front of him.

This piece of notebook paper is offended. What's so bad about talking to notebook paper?

"I can't kiss a sheet of notebook paper," Alex points out. "Well—technically I could. Don't think it'd measure up to kissing my boyfriend, though."

Willie grins. It's impossible, and he knows he can't let it go on like this for much longer—it's been nine months of trying to figure out his unfinished business and he feels no closer than when he started—but it feels so good to be Alex's boyfriend still. He puts the pen to the piece of paper, and then picks it back up because—no. He still can't tell Alex he loves him. He's planning to leave Alex a note once it hits a year, telling him goodbye and asking him to move on. He'll be doubling his efforts to try and solve his unfinished business in the mean time, but he thinks—how cruel would it be to leave Alex with the knowledge that he lost someone who loved him, too? Because Alex has said he loved Willie—back Alex's grave he had asked if Willie loved him too and.

You wouldn't be able to kiss air, either.

"I could certainly try."

Willie shakes his head fondly, and then hears the studio door open. Alex lunges forward and grabs the pen out of the air, but it's pointless because when Willie turns around, it's Julie standing there. Her eyes are wide and her jaw is dropped.

"Hey, Julie," Alex greets. "What're you doing?"

"I left a song out here that I wanted to show Flynn," she says. "What are you doing?" She aims her voice like she's talking to Alex, but she's staring at Willie.

"Homework," Alex answers.

"Really?" she quirks an eyebrow.

"What else would I be doing?"

"I don't know, care to tell me?" This time, it's one hundred percent directed at Willie, and he flinches.

Alex frowns, still playing the part. "I don't—"

"Not you," Julie cuts Alex off.

"Julie…" Alex sighs. "Just leave him be."

"Can I talk to you outside?" There's no question who she's talking to.

Willie gets to his feet and walks out the door. Alex glares at her from where he's sitting on the couch, and flops back on to the cushions, crossing his arms in a pout.

Julie turns around and marches out to the driveway and whirls on Willie when he gets out there. "This isn't fair to him."

"None of this is fair, Julie," Willie says. "We're dealing the only way we know how."

"He—he said he was moving on. He said he was doing better!"

"He… technically is doing better," Willie says. "Maybe not moving on, but—"

"Willie, you need to let him go," Julie frowns.

"That's not your choice to make," Alex's voice comes from the studio doors. He pushes the door open and steps out. "I get you want to help, but leaving me and Willie be would be the best thing you could do to help."

"Alex…" Julie whispers. "It's not fair to you."

"You think I don't know that? You think the fact that Willie is dead and I'm alive has escaped my notice? Because it hasn't. I have to talk to a sheet of notebook paper to have a conversation with him. I have to guess when he'll appear, and hope each day that he will. I don't get to see him smile, or look at me, and I can't hold his hand, and I can't feel him against me. But despite that, I'm happy with him. Isn't that what you should be focusing on?"

Julie sucks in a breath. "Alex—"

"Julie," Alex cuts her off. "I understand where you're coming from. The amount of times I told Luke falling for you was a horrible decision, but he reminded me it wasn't a decision. You can't pick and choose who you love, and… I'm willing to go through this for Willie, okay? You can't protect me from everything, and I'd never ask you to. I am asking you to leave this be."

She looks away from Alex, and turns to Willie. "Are you really okay with how this is going?"

"I… For now," Willie answers. "I've been trying to figure out my unfinished business to see if I'll come back to life, too. It's all I've been doing when I'm not with Alex for the last nine months. If I can't figure it out within the year since Alex came back to life I am going to stop this, okay Julie? I don't want him to hurt. I'll tell him to move on, I'll tell him that I can't do it anymore, but until then, I want to be there for him. These may be our last months together," Willie whispers. "Please don't take that from us."

Julie sighs, long and loud, but her shoulders drop. "Fine," she says, throwing her hands up. "Whatever. I—I just don't want you guys hurting."

"If you think Willie being here hurts me, clearly you don't remember you and Luke in the early days."

"I do, though. I remember how much it sucked when I reached out and my hand went right through him. I remember thinking that we could never be together—even once I could touch you guys, it still… sucked. Alex, I do remember the early days, and that's why I just… I just don't want you hurting. And… falling in love with a ghost when you're human… it hurts."

"But it's also worth it," Alex reminds her. "You turned down Nick, even when you couldn't touch Luke. Because you knew it was worth it. Even thinking you were going to lose Luke, you still chose him. And I'm choosing Willie, even though I know I could lose him. Even though it sucks that he's a ghost. Willie is worth it."

Julie looks at Willie. "Is this worth it?"

Willie nods. "I might have to say goodbye soon, but it's not like we're making bad memories. Alex and I won't live to regret the time we had together if this doesn't work out. And it might take us time to move on, but this will never not be worth it."

Julie narrows her eyes. "Does he know?"

"Know? About the unfinished business?" Willie asks. "No. I don't want to get his hopes up."

"Good. Keep it that way."

"Keep what, what way?" Alex demands, looking between Julie and the space of air she's looking at.

"Something I can't tell you," Julie says, still looking at Willie. "Willie wants to keep it quiet, too. Hopefully I can tell you one day, but until that day comes, it's mine and Willie's secret. It's for the better."

"Didn't we just decide you don't know what's best for me?" Alex huffs.

"Not in this case," Willie says.

"Willie says 'not in this case,'" Julie translates. "Just… be careful both of you, alright? You know I love you both, right?"

Alex leans back against the studio door and crosses his arms, frowning. "I know, Jules. I love you, too. And I appreciate your thoughts and wanting me to be okay, but, really. We're fine."

"Yeah," Willie says. "If I can't figure out my unfinished business I'll stop by and say goodbye to you, too."

"Alright," Julie nods. "Let me just grab that song and then you two can get back to your… date."

Willie smiles at her. He can feel on his face that it's not a full smile, that it's sad, and that it's not reaching his eyes, but… he is sad. Vocalizing his plan, to Julie no less, has made it permanent. He really only has three months to figure out his unfinished business.

It doesn't feel like enough time. Looking back to Alex, he knows it's not.

He'll never be ready to say goodbye.

(*)

His time is up.

It's been an entire year, almost to the day (he gave himself one extra week) since Alex came back to life, and Willie is here to leave Alex. He's kneeling next to where Alex is sleeping on the studio's couch, looking so relaxed and content, and Willie… he's glad he prepared beforehand. He pulls the piece of notebook paper out of his pocked and places it on the table, Alex's name in bold pen on the top.

He wrote his note before he came to see Alex, knowing that he won't have the courage to write it down when he's looking at the other boy. Especially not if Alex is watching him. No, that's… he could never do that, not when he could see the look on Alex's face. So, the idea is, in and out, leave the note somewhere for Alex to find, and never look back.

The last part is going to be the hardest.

However, he's promised himself that he won't go looking for Alex or the others anymore. Not after tonight. He's letting Alex move on, but he needs to let himself move on, too. Alex will find someone else to love, and Willie… if nothing else, he should give himself the chance to find someone else to love. Not that he'll ever really feel confident again, knowing that one of them could cross over at any minute, leaving him just as heartbroken as he is now. But… it was worth it with Alex. He can't imagine how it ever wouldn't be worth it, even as he has to say goodbye now. Alex will always be worth it, and he can't be sorry for holding on as long as he did. The time he got to spend with him has given him enough courage to say goodbye… just… there's one more thing he wants to say, that he couldn't say in his note.

"I love you," Willie whispers, reaching down to stroke Alex's hair, but freezing before he could. He's not in the right mindset to have his hand pass through Alex, not again, not right now, when he feels the cramping in his chest from the pain of this moment. Not when it's been over a year and he still hasn't figured out his unfinished business. Not when he doesn't think he ever will. There's so much he's tried, so much he's done, and he's not sure what more there is to do. He's held on to this for far too long, and he thinks it's time to let go. He doesn't want his last memory of Alex to be his hand disappearing through the boy's body. "I'm so sorry I couldn't do better for you."

There's a clench in his stomach as he thinks about all he's gone through this past year. Practicing all the moves he wanted to perfect before he died. Returning to his childhood home and making connections with his family, apologizing for leaving them, apologizing for not being a better son. Visiting his older sister who ran away when he was younger. Tracking down the person who killed him from all of the newspaper articles and forgiving them. Going to his college and sitting in on all of the classes that he skipped out on when he was a student. Going back to Caleb's club and apologizing to all those he led there. Visiting the graves of all of his family members that he never got to say goodbye to. Visiting his grave and forgiving himself for his mistake.

Yet here he stands, still a ghost.

Truthfully, he didn't care if he crossed over to the living or crossed over to heaven. He just… didn't want to be here anymore. In this limbo between the living and the dead. Skating the streets of Hollywood was fun, but with Caleb gone, with the Ghost Club in his past, with Alex living… skating was all he had, and it wasn't enough to hold him to this… "life" that he was living. He just wanted it to be over—he just wanted to move on. He doesn't care what that means anymore. Just… not like this. Not this. He can't be stuck like this for eternity. He can't.

He shoves himself to his feet in a rush and walks to the door, forcing himself to not look back. It's time to move on—time to let Alex move on. Like Alex says, it's not fair, and Willie's just making it harder on both of them. If he hasn't figured out his unfinished business by now, he's not going to. Maybe he already missed his opportunity, maybe it's something that's waiting for him in the future, maybe it's—

Ow.

Willie looks up from where he landed on the floor, and sends a glare at the door. There's a noise from up in the loft and Reggie's laugh sounds through the studio. "Dude, did you just walk into the door? I know you can do dumb things when you just wake up, but come on."

Willie looks up at the loft and blinks.

Wait.

He walked into the door.

"Reggie?" he calls tentatively.

The boy pops his head out of the fence in the loft, jaw dropped. "Willie?"

"You can—you can see me?" Willie breathes, turning around on the floor and looking between Alex and Reggie. Thing one: he couldn't walk through the door. Thing two: Reggie could hear him walk into the door. Thing three: Reggie could see him.

"Alex!" Reggie screeches, throwing a box of picks down from the loft and at the couch. "Alex!"

Alex flinches when the box of picks lands right next to his head and groans. "Dude, what the fuck?" he asks, picking up the box and looking at it. "Why the fuck?"

"I'm sorry, but you're going to love me in a second because sit your butt up and look at the door."

"What are you talking about?" Alex demands as he sits up and rubs at his eyes. He looks up at the loft first, but Reggie's head peaking down at the door must interest him, because Willie looks away from Reggie at the same time Alex does, and their eyes meet. "Willie?" he whispers.

"Alex," he breathes out with a laugh. Alex is up and off the couch and striding towards him in one motion, dropping next to him with a loud thud of his knees hitting the concrete. Willie reaches towards him cautiously. He curls a hand around Alex's face, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb and laughs. "Oh my god."

Alex lunges forward and tackles Willie into a hug, holding him tight as they both start to cry.

"Hold on, hold on!" Reggie wails, footsteps thundering as he rushes down the loft stairs. "Remember, I can't poof out anymore, and I don't want to see what's going to happen next, just give me a minute to—okay, carry on," he finishes, and then the studio door clicks shut and Alex crashes his mouth to Willie's with no hesitance.

Willie gasps, and takes a moment to adjust to the feeling of Alex's mouth on his again, but after a moment, he pushes back into Alex and gives back as good as he's getting. It's easy to fall back into this, really. It's not like Willie forgot how Alex kisses, and he highly doubts Alex has forgotten how Willie kisses, so it's easy for the two of them to give and take, to push and pull. There's no learning involved, just coming home.

Alex's breath hitches and he pulls away quickly, shoving his face into Willie's neck. "Oh my god," Willie hears him whisper. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Please tell me I'm not dreaming?" he begs.

"You're not dreaming," Willie grins, holding Alex tighter.

"Yeah, but that's something dream you would say," Alex says, pulling away from Willie's neck and looking into his eyes. Alex's eyes are red and the area around them is swelling, and Willie swears he's never looked more beautiful. He lifts a hand and cups Alex's face. "Punch me."

"Wh—babe, no," he laughs, wiping the tears from Alex's face. "Punch yourself."

He's not expecting Alex to pull back and smash his fist into his forearm. "That wasn't hard enough, you've gotta—wait. My knees. The concrete hurt them. Can you dream pain? Is that a thing? Oh my god, I don't know enough about dreams, I—"

"Alex," Willie murmurs, leaning forward. "You're not dreaming. You've always trusted me, yeah? Trust me now." He presses his lips gently to Alex's, and feels Alex's lips quirk up in a smile.

He pulls back. "If I wake up from this you're so dead."

"Well, technically, if this was a dream, you'd be completely right. But right now I'm so alive." Willie pauses. "I think? I couldn't walk through the door and now you guys can see me and touch me and—"

Alex cuts him off with a kiss. After a few seconds he releases Willie's lips and sits back and closes a hand around Willie's wrist, pressing two fingers to where Willie's pulse point would be. Alex stares at his hand in amazement, and another smile spreads on his face. "You're alive."

"I am?" he asks, breathless.

"Yes, dude. What was? What was your unfinished business?"

"I don't—I don't know. The last thing I did was visit you. I've been trying to figure it out for the last year but nothing worked. Then… Wait."

"What?"

Willie feels blood rush to his face and wow isn't that a feeling. But, no. Not the point right now. He twists his wrist in Alex's hold and slips his hand down to hold Alex's. "The last thing I did was, um, tell you I love you."

"Falling in love was your unfinished business?"

"No," Willie shakes his head. "Otherwise I would have come back like, two years ago. Unless—did I really have to say it?"

"Unfinished business is weird, we were technically signed with Destiny Management for two months before we actually signed the papers, but I didn't actually come back until I signed the legit contract," Alex explains. He smiles at Willie, and then his expression drops. "Wait. You're in love with me?"

Willie feels his face soften. "I've been in love with you."

"Was it—was it you at my grave? A few months ago I—I know I could have asked you when you started writing to me but I was so scared—"

"It was me," Willie nods. "I can't believe you tried to suggest I didn't care—"

"I didn't—I couldn't—I just—everything sucked, I was doubting everything and the further I got away from you the more I was convinced that you didn't feel the same. I mean, you hadn't come to visit once—"

"I saw you at the skate park before that." He squeezes Alex hand. He lifts up their entwined fingers and presses a kiss to the back of Alex's hand. "You looked… you were so sad, and it hurt so much to talk to you. At first I thought it was better for both of us if I didn't… encourage it. I lost that plan, though. I was trying to figure out my unfinished business but I just wanted you to be happy."

"You make me happy."

Willie grins. "You make me happy too, hot dog."

Alex blushes and goes back to hiding his face in Willie's shoulder.

"Hey, have you tried hot dogs since you came back to life?"

"No," Alex laughs, then moves his head up to press a kiss to Willie's collarbone. He leans back, away from Willie's body so he can look him in the eyes. "I don't think I ever will."

"Yeah, well I'm stopping at every cross walk, even if the walk sign is on," Willie says. "What kills you makes you reevaluate your life choices."

"What kills you makes you smarter," Alex grins.

"Then why did you need me to help you pass calculus?" Willie teases.

Alex rolls his eyes and shoves at Willie, who reaches forward to grab Alex's bicep to stabilize him. "What are you doing here, man? You haven't been here in almost a month. I've been waiting for you."

Willie bites his lip and looks at the ground. "I was here to say goodbye. I gave myself one year to figure out my unfinished business and then I'd let us both move on. That—that's what I told Julie that night. That's what you couldn't know."

Alex breathes out, staring at Willie without blinking. His eyes start filling with tears and he lets out a mirthless laugh. "Well thank fuck you decided to tell me you loved me."

"Yeah," Willie nods. "Thank fuck."

(*)

They walk into the Molina household hand in hand, Alex murmuring things along the way, and Willie just listening, but mostly reveling in the feel of Alex's hand in his again.

"Ah, mijo!" Julie's dad exclaims happily. "Just in time, I was about to send Reggie out—who's this?"

Alex shifts, squeezes Willie's hand, and draws in a breath. "Ray, this is Willie. He's—do you remember how we told you I was dating a ghost before I came back to life?"

Ray (apparently) nods. "I do."

"This is him."

Ray's eyes narrow. "He came back to life, too?"

"He did. And he doesn't have anywhere to go right now, could he stay, at least in the studio? We'll find his family soon, but—"

"Alex," Ray cuts the boy off. "Of course." He looks to Willie. "Do you like tacos?"

Willie nods slowly. "Yes, sir."

Ray shakes his head. "None of that 'sir' stuff, Willie. Just Ray works. Let me go find another chair, and you can join us for dinner, bueno?"

"I—thank you," Willie says, genuinely taken aback by Ray's openness.

"Alright, the rest of the family is in the dining room, why don't you two go join them, I'm just going to grab a chair out of my office," he tells them, and then disappears around the corner.

Alex squeezes Willie's hand and smiles down at him. "Ready?"

Willie laughs. "For what?"

Alex grins and walks forward, tugging Willie along behind him. They walk through the kitchen and Willie can see the entire group as they make their way to the table—Julie's little brother (Carlos, he thinks) is sitting at the head of the table, talking rapidly with Reggie, who is sitting with his back to Willie and Alex. Julie's friend (Flynn, he's sure of that one) is sitting next to Reggie and he can tell from her posture that she's bent over her phone. Beside her, there's an open chair squeezed into the small space which Willie assumes is meant for Alex. Across the table, with their heads ducked together and talking in quiet tones are Julie and Luke, completely unaware to their presence. At least until Alex clears his throat.

Everyone looks at them, then. Reggie and Flynn turn in their seats, and Julie and Luke look up, confused. Carlos stares at Willie with a calculating look, and—

"Oh my god!" Julie screeches, shoving out of her chair so fast that she knocks it back into the window. She runs around the table and into the kitchen before launching herself at Willie. "You did it!"

Willie laughs but once Alex drops his hand, he holds on to her tightly. Despite being able to interact with her face to face for the last two and a half years, he's never got to touch her. She became one of his closest friends, but he'd never been able to give her a hug, and they're both tactile people. The entire group is, really. So he squeezes her tighter and breathes in her scent and savors in the feeling of being hugged by her. "I did," he says into her hair. "Thank you for giving me the chance."

"Of course," she says as she pulls away, but her hands don't leave him, just slide down to hold on to his forearms. "What was it?"

Alex grins from next to Willie and leans in to Julie's view. "He had to tell me he loved me."

"It took you guys two years to say I love you?" Luke says, and Willie notices him standing a few feet behind Julie. "Dude—"

"Not all of us say 'I love you' after the first date, Luke," Alex shoots back.

"But two years?"

"We were separated for one of those."

"But two years?"

"Leave them be," Julie tells him, finally dropping Willie's arms and spinning around to face her boyfriend. "It still took you months to work up the courage to ask me out. Willie asked Alex out as soon as he was free from Caleb." Willie wants to tell her that Alex had actually kissed him and ran away before Willie asked the boy out, but with a glance at Alex, who was glaring at him knowingly, he decides to save the story for another time. "At least they've got that sorted out."

Luke rolls his eyes and steps around Julie to clap a hand into Willie's. He bumps their shoulders together and grins, a trademark lopsided Luke grin. "I'm glad to see you, man."

"Me too!" Reggie cries from in back of the group. "Sorry I ran out of the studio on you guys, but I didn't—"

"You knew?" Julie gasps.

"Well, yeah? Why'd you think I ran in from the studio?"

"Considering you grabbed food, we thought you wanted a snack," Flynn says, and Reggie looks like he's considering her words before he shrugs. She turns to Willie. "I'm Flynn. Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same," Willie says, leaning forward to shake her hand. "We've technically met, but you never got to see me."

"So you were a ghost, too?" Carlos calls from where he's still sitting at the dining room table. Ray is sitting at the other end now, too, having squeezed in another chair on the side where Julie and Luke had been sitting. It was a wheelie computer chair and as soon as Flynn saw it she dove for it with a cry of 'dibs,' sending her and the chair flying back into the wall.

"I was," Willie confirms, following the rest of the group as they make their way back to the dining room.

"Cool," Carlos breathes.

"Yeah, super cool," Julie rolls her eyes, ruffling her brother's hair. "Dying is so cool."

"Hey, he's alive again," Carlos shoots back. "So I can say it's cool."

"Can't argue that logic," Reggie grins.

"I also agree it's cool," Alex says, and sends Willie a soft smile.

"Yeah, yeah, we know, you're happy to have your boyfriend back," Flynn waves her hand through the air as she scooches back to the table. "But can we get to the tacos now?"

"I hope you like tacos," Luke says, reaching for a hard shell with one hand and the taco meat with the other. "Because they're gonna be your first taste of food in—wait, when did you die?"

"Seven, eight years ago. 2015."

"How old are you?" Julie asks.

"With or without the ghost years?"

"Without. That's what's going on your birth certificate."

"I was a month shy of turning twenty. I was born a month before you three," he says, nodding at each of the boys individually, "died in '95."

"It's a good thing we died, then," Alex says, waiting patiently for the rest of the table to make their tacos before he makes his own. "Never would have met you, otherwise. Or if I did…"

"We don't think about that," Luke says. "Otherwise we have to talk about how much older I am that Julie and that—that doesn't work."

"How much older than Julie are you?" Carlos asks.

Luke turns a mock glare on the kid. "Did you not hear what I just said? We don't think about that."

Reggie leans towards Carlos and stage whispers, "twenty six years."

Carlos looks absolutely gleeful. "Ha! Dad, did you know that?"

Ray sighs. "I did, Carlos. Eat your food."

"You're old," Carlos hisses at Luke.

"You're a child," Luke taunts back. Even through their tones, Willie can tell this group is a family. Luke is Carlos' older sister's boyfriend, yes, but his role as a pseudo brother to Carlos is just as important as his role as Julie's boyfriend. Reggie clearly adores the kid and Willie's sure their relationship is even closer than that of Carlos and Luke's. He looks at Alex, who is looking down the table at Carlos with fond eyes, and realizes that even Alex is this kid's brother. Alex is Julie's brother. He's Ray's son. He's not just living here, he's a piece of this family, and Willie is at a meet the family dinner, even if he already knew more than half of them. His eyes flick to Ray and suddenly he wants to make a good impression.

Alex must be able to feel him tense up, so he reaches over and lays a hand on Willie's thigh. He leans in. "What's wrong?"

Willie looks at him, looks around the table again, and settles on Ray again, who is giving him a look that's nearly as concerned as the one on Alex's face.

It's been ten minutes and he thinks he's a part of this family, too.

He smiles at Ray, who returns it, and then Willie turns to Alex. "Nothing. I'm good. But hey, I love you."

Alex smiles. He presses a kiss to Willie's cheek. "I love you, too."

#willex fic #willex fanfic #alex mercer x willie #willex #jatp fic #my writing

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unspeakable3 · 4 years

Text

sirius leaves home

The evening hadn’t exactly been what one might call a roaring success, but nobody had ended up cursed or disowned or dismembered. It could have ended up much worse, and Regulus was thankful for small mercies. He had changed into his pyjamas and was penning a letter to Thorfinn to tell him all about it when he heard the sound of heavy boots stomping up the stairs. He darted to his bedroom door and opened it just in time to see Sirius slam his own door shut. Regulus waited until the sounds of swearing and kicking and crashing had abated before he knocked. “What?!” “It’s me,” Regulus said quietly. “Can I come in?” “No!” Regulus tried the door handle. It wasn’t locked and he hadn’t suffered some awful jinx just from touching it so he deemed it safe enough to enter. He stopped just inside the room and closed the door quietly behind him. Sirius’s bedroom was even messier than it usually was. Half his pillows had been ripped apart, their fwooper feather fillings still drifting to the floor, like the aftermath of a colourful carnival parade. The carpet was strewn with various scraps of parchment, photographs, spilt ink, and what looked like Regulus’s broom servicing kit. He frowned; he could see from his position in the doorway that Sirius hadn’t put the tweezers back into their correct compartment. More frightening still was the fact that Sirius appeared to be packing his trunk, even though they weren’t due back at Hogwarts for another week and a half. “What are you doing?” Regulus asked. “What does it look like?” Sirius snapped. He stood in front of his wardrobe, wildly tossing jumpers and shirts and those strange, stiff trousers into his trunk. “It looks like you’re packing your trunk,” Regulus said as lightly as he could manage, trying to hold back the panic swelling in his chest like a river after a storm. “But you usually leave that until the very last minute and it’s only Christmas Eve.” “I’m not packing for Hogwarts.” “Oh. Are you going away for Christmas?” Sirius snorted. “You could say that.” He was at his desk now, yanking drawers open and shoving them closed again. Searching for something. “May I come?” Regulus asked. Sirius stilled. He rested his palms on the desk and leaned forwards, his shoulders hunched, his messy dark hair concealing his face. Regulus took a step towards him. “You could,” Sirius said tightly, “but I don’t think you’d like it.” “Where are you going?” “Away from here.” Sirius spun around and shoved a book into Regulus’s hands. It was the NEWT-level Transfiguration text he had been searching for in the family library a few days ago. What was Sirius doing with an old textbook? “What do you mean, away from here?” he asked, his voice quiet. The air in the room had grown cold, as though a dementor were lurking outside the window. “Do you want to know what Mother waited until after her little party to talk to me about? Do you want to know what she’s been planning while we’ve been away at school?” Sirius said. He leaned against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Our darling mother doesn’t want me to go back to Hogwarts in January. She thinks my friends are a bad influence on me. Did you know she’s been screening my post? Burning anything that happens to come from anyone outside the family?” Regulus had thought she had stopped doing all that. “I—” “‘Course you didn’t. S’not like she’s ever needed to check up on you, perfect little Regulus,” Sirius said bitterly. “She wants me to turn my back on the mongrels and blood-traitors and make nice little pureblood friends like yours.” “So you’re just… going…?” Regulus asked, disbelieving. It all seemed a bit, well, drastic. “If I don’t go now she’ll trap me here forever.” He sounded so matter-of-fact. But he couldn’t mean it. Sirius and Walburga had arguments like this all the time - and this hadn’t even been a bad argument, not by their standards. No one had been hurt. Sirius had been bruised and bleeding and angry and embarrassed but never wanted to leave before. Never wanted to leave so much that he’d started packing his belongings. Yet at the first suggestion that he might have to give up James Potter and the rest, Sirius was going. Sirius was abandoning his brother. His real brother. “You can’t—” “Can’t what, leave?” said Sirius, scoffing. “It’s been done before.” “But— you’re the heir.” “I don’t care! It doesn’t mean anything - you think anyone outside of this bloody family cares about shit like that?” “You don’t have to just go!” “Why not? Andromeda didn’t belong in this family, and I don’t either. You know that.” “But… if you just…” Regulus looked around the jumbled room, desperately searching for something, anything, that he might be able to say or do that would stop Sirius from running. He was the only thing left standing between his brother and the Outside and Regulus knew - he just knew - that once Sirius took his first step out into the frosty night air, that would be it. He would be gone, forever. Sirius rolled his eyes. “Just what, Reg? Enlighten me.” “If you just apologise—” “Apologise for what?!” “I mean—” “Fucking hell, Reg. What the fuck do you think I should apologise for?” Sirius was fuming, rising up from his desk to pace around his bedroom. “For having friends who don’t think muggle-baiting is a fun weekend activity? For not believing in the Most Ancient and Bloody Bullshit House of Black? For being a Gryffindor? Because that’s where this all started, isn’t it? They just couldn’t stand that I wasn’t a shit-head Slytherin like the rest of them.” Like the rest of you. “You’re still their favourite,” Regulus said quietly, looking down at the ink-stained carpet. “Are you— are you as fucking deranged as they are?” Sirius shouted, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “They hate me!” “They don’t, they—” “Listen,” Sirius said, lowering his voice. He strode forwards and grabbed Regulus by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You need to get it into your thick skull that those bloody inbred maniacs don’t give a shit about either of us. They never fucking have. All we are to them is a line on their precious tapestry. That’s it. They don’t care about what we like, what we want, what we feel. This isn’t a family, Reg. It’s not even a dynasty. This is hell.” Sirius gripped Regulus’s shoulders tightly, his fingers digging in so hard that Regulus was sure he would have bruises in the morning. Sirius gave him a brisk shake as if that might help get the message through, and when he released him Regulus staggered back a pace. Sirius strode over to the window, heaved his trunk up and pushed it out into the night sky. Regulus lurched forwards. “Wait— we’re a family!” he said desperately. “I care about you, I care about what you like and what you feel! I— I’m your brother!” Sirius climbed up onto the windowsill and looked back at Regulus over his shoulder, his hand braced against the dark wooden frame. His shoulders seemed to sag as he slowly shook his head. “It’s not enough, Reg.” You’re not enough. Sirius jumped. Regulus staggered over to the window and watched the brother he had looked up to and idolised his entire life get up, unharmed, from a flower bed four stories below. He blinked back tears as he watched Sirius pick up his trunk and stride out to the alleyway running alongside the house, his collar turned up against the bitter December wind. Sirius never looked back. It was hours later, lying awake in the middle of Sirius’s bed and clutching his Transfiguration textbook to his chest, that Regulus realised. He realised that Sirius must have cast a particularly powerful cushioning charm to survive a fall from that height unharmed. He realised that Sirius must have had this whole thing planned. For months, perhaps. Or even years.

#sirius and regulus #the black brothers #regulus black #sirius black #the noble and most ancient house of black #lionheart

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darylandbethfanforever9 · 5 years

Text

Downfall of Us All: Chapter 2

Special thanks to @jtargaryen18, who deserves more credit for helping me write this story, and for putting up with my crazy ideas. Check out her amazing stories, on here and on AO3.

Warnings: Forced Breeding, Angst, Depression, and Grief.

Downfall Of Us All

Chapter 2

Clint managed to put on a t-shirt, and a pair of jeans, he tied up his boots with some luck. He stood up and looked at the right side of his stomach where Laura had stabbed him. His heart ached for the loss of his children; he would never see them again. He'd never hold them, watch Cooper become a good man or see Lila walk down the aisle.

They were gone, but he'd never forget them.

He walked to the conference room where the others were waiting, and Ross was there already. He glanced at the Home Secretary with hatred burning in his eyes, as he looked at the man. He wished he hadn't taken the deal with Ross, he'd wanted to see his children, and this was the price he was paying. If he'd been with Nat, Steve and the others.... would things have been different?

Maybe. "We have discovered that two sisters, Sophie and Grace Drăgoi Melnychenko are the daughters of a Red Room Operative. Her name was Anya Melnychenko, she was born in Ukraine, Kiev." Ross said coldly and pressed a remote that showed a photo of a blonde-haired young woman. "Was she around the same time as Natasha?" Tony asked cautiously, he knew Natasha's past was a sore subject to be asking about.

"Anya Melnychenko wasn't around when I was being trained. But I heard whispers about more young girls being recruited," Natasha admitted quietly, Steve squeezed her hand tightly. "Stark, pull up the file on here." Ross ordered harshly, and Tony's face darkened but he did as the man ordered. He pulled up the file, and Clint felt his stomach roll in nausea. "They were impregnated by Winter Soldiers, who were HYDRA assassins." Steve said sickened, and Clint glanced at Bucky whose face had darkened in anger.

"I don't understand," Bruce said, "and with all respect, Nat, because I know it's an unpleasant subject. But weren't the Red Room agents forcibly sterilized?" "This came from the Red Room," Ross explained, "but it was a different program. It was called the Widow Program. A breeding program. According to the intel we've gathered, they intended to hand select young women from the Red Room and breed them with the Winter Soldiers. Their intention was to breed a superior class of elite female assassins. Instead of training them as small children, as they have for decades in the Red Room, they would begin shortly after conception." Clint shook his head. "After conception? What does that mean?" "Anya was the test subject in this program," Ross went on. "They selected her to be the first in this program. Both times they used a soldier named Adam Drăgoi, Romanian in origin, to impregnate her." At the name, Bucky glanced up at Ross. Did he know who he was? Was the name familiar? "And he was a Winter Soldier? Like Bucky?" Steve asked wearily. "Not exactly," Ross replied. "While he was part of the program, his tendencies were not as violent as the other soldiers. It was why he was selected." "It's rape either way," Nat threw out, looking disgusted. Ross nodded but went on. "Once they were certain that the pregnancies were viable, and the foetuses’ female, they experimented on each child in utero." "Before they were born?" Steve shook his head. "And female? So, if either of the babies were male…?" "The first one was a male foetus," Ross said nonchalantly. "They terminated that pregnancy." Nat's head lowered. Steve took her hand under the table as Clint watched, trying to comfort her. "What kind of experiments?" Clint asked. "What did they do?"

"The intel that we've recovered, suggests that they were injected with a rare form of spider DNA. A radioactive spider to be exact and were injected with its blood. They were also given a weaker of the Super - Soldier serum," Ross said bluntly, no empathy in his voice. "What happened to Anya? After she gave birth." Natasha asked quietly, her voice hard but everyone heard the anger in her voice at what they were hearing. "She and Adam escaped the Widow Program, they left and took the children with them. After that no one knew what happened to them, until after this." Ross said calmly and played a video. Clint's eyes widened at the sight of two young blonde-haired women, fighting off a group of men. He'd guess they were HYDRA, two of the men ended up in spider webbing, while the other two were blasted away. "They are wanted by the UN for refusing to sign the Sokovia Accords, you are to arrest them and by force if necessary." Ross said coldly and looked at them. "Any questions?" He asked calmly, and Wanda was the one who dared to ask the question. "What if we can't convince them to come with us?" Wanda asked bravely, Ross regarded the young woman with no emotion. "They will be sent to the Raft, you will be leaving in an hour. So, I suggest you pack a few things." He said sharply and paused. "Arrest Agent Grant Ward, he was protecting the sisters and broke the Sokovian Accords. So, bring him in, and Parker." The Home Secretary said coldly, and left. "Fuck, so we're dealing with two sisters who have spider abilities?" Bucky asked darkly, he was trying to remember any memories that had Adam in them. "Looks like it, Bucky." Steve said grimly and sighed. "Suit up."

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Grace Viktoria Melnychenko Drăgoi sighed quietly, as she cleaned up the small cake shop that her mother had owned. It had been Anya Melnychenko’s pride and joy, and she had raised her two daughters to help her run it. "Well, that's Mrs Carmichael's cake order done, Gracie." Sophie Melnychenko Drăgoi said softly, glancing at her sister reassuringly. Grace attempted to give her older sister a smile.

The cake she'd done for Mrs. Carmichael was a masterpiece in shimmering white frosting with three layers, intricate doves, and flowers. Her sister's artistic abilities never failed to amaze her. Grace loved a good cake as much as the next person, but her sister's were so beautiful she wasn't certain she could bring herself to eat one if it were offered to her. The counters were all done save for Sophie's counter space, the floors swept. Most of their supplies and ingredients were put away. Grace couldn't overcome the sense that something wasn't done. Something was out of place. Something wasn't right. "What's wrong?" Sophie asked her as she eased the cake into the refrigerated display case beneath the counter. Grace shook her head. "Can't you feel it?" The cake safely tucked away, Sophie wiped her hands on her apron and studied her. "Feel what?" Hanging up her own apron and setting aside her broom, Grace tried to give a name to the restless energy that had filled her mind with dread. It had started only a couple of hours ago. Granted that was at five o'clock, their busiest time when people were on their way home from work. And they had been busy so maybe that's why she'd told herself it was just daily stress, supply and demand. Only the feeling had grown worse. "Sophie, something is coming," was all Grace knew to say. "Someone is coming." "Who?" "If I knew I wouldn't ask, now would I?" Grace wrapped her arms around herself, feeling like her skin was crawling. "Does this have to do with that dream you told me about?" Sophie asked gently. "It wasn't a dream," Grace said impatiently. "I talked to him. And he's… coming with them. They are coming here. Oh, God! Can't you feel it?"

Sophie stilled and tuned into her senses, sensing nothing for a moment but then felt like her own skin was crawling. She shivered and looked at Grace. "Let's drop off this cake and go home." She said quietly, keeping her voice calm despite her inner fear. Grace nodded and pulled the cake out as she carefully got it onto the table. Sophie pulled out a cake box, so they could deliver it carefully in the car. Sophie took the cake, while Grace closed the store and put the closed sign in front of the front door. Taking in a few deep breaths, she took off her apron and placed it behind the front counter. She had been on edge since she'd had that dream, with that mysterious man who had talked to her. Clint, his name was Clint. She heard Sophie honking the horn, and she quickly left the store and walked to the black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. She got in, and they started driving back to their apartment. Their apartment was in downtown Brooklyn, a blue-collar area for working class families. When their parents had emigrated to New York, Brooklyn following the collapse of the Soviet Union, they had decided Brooklyn would be a good place to raise their two young daughters. She missed her parents so much, she sighed as she listened to the radio. Sophie was watching the road, as the car was one street away from their apartment. "We'll pack a few things, and take the cats with us," Sophie said reassuringly to Grace who nodded quietly, they drove into the apartment parking lot and turned the engine off. They walked not too quickly to the apartment building, and Grace walked beside her as they reached their apartment. Sophie unlocked the door, and they went inside quickly, and locked the door. Grace hurried into her bedroom and took out a small travel bag, she packed a few pairs of jeans, underwear, and shirts. She then packed a few tank tops, and t-shirts, and her toiletry bag. She quickly packed it with her shampoo, conditioner, deodorant and her soap, and packed it all in her bag. She took in a deep breath and found Starling fast asleep on her bed. She picked him up gently, and put him in the car carrier with Custard, Tom, Jack, Reg, Bonnie, Clyde, Paul and Oscar. Sophie came in with Patch, the tuxedo cat purring. "Got everything packed?" Sophie asked quietly, Grace nodded and picked up a framed photo, she kissed it lovingly and put it in her travel bag. "Yeah, have you packed everything?" She asked nervously, Sophie nodded and looked at their mother's bedroom. "I took the passports from the safe, and the money that mom saved up for us." Sophie explained softly, and they started leaving the apartment. Sophie had just grabbed the doorknob when a loud thump sounded behind them. They whirled around to see a large man climbing through the door of their balcony, an assault rifle slung over one should and the other arm was… Metal? Wait, isn't that…? Flinging the door open, carrier in hand, Sophie tried darting out the door, nearly colliding with the huge shield of Captain America. Steve Rogers stepped forward, forcing Sophie to step back. To say he filled a room was an understatement. His gaze darted from Sophie to Grace and back. "Ladies," he said. "Going to need you to come with us, please." Grace glared back over her shoulder at the Winter Soldier, who was slowly coming in behind them. "Stop, right there," Grace warned him. He froze but once they turned their attention back to Captain America, he took another step. Sophie zinged webbing back at him and in his surprise, she was able to jerk the rifle out of his grip and into hers. She wasn't unfamiliar with firearms, so she hauled it up, pointing it at Captain America's face. "Get over here, soldier!" Sophie yelled at Bucky, "where I can see you both." Grace heard the machinery of his arm working as he contemplated his next move. Lunging, that arm swung out to grab Gracie who scaled the wall, staying just out of his grasp, clinging to the ceiling and staying just out of his reach. "Buck, stop," Captain America told him. "Come here." Sophie kept the rifle pointed at America's hero and Grace watched warily as the soldier went in the direction of his leader, his eyes not leaving her once. Captain America lowered his shield, not so much out of fear that Sophie would shoot one of them. It appeared he wanted to talk. "We're not here to hurt you," the Captain told them. "We're trying to help you." "Shit!" All of them turned to see Spider - Man just inside their balcony door, his gaze riveted on Grace. "Grace?" He asked, pulling the mask from his head to reveal Peter Parker who had once been their neighbour. "Is that you?" Sophie and Grace exchanged glances. Grace dropped from the ceiling, her heart pounding in her chest. She'd always liked Peter. His presence made whatever was going on a little less threatening. "Yeah, it's me." "Wait. How do you know each other?" the Winter Soldier asked, frowning. "We used to be neighbours," Peter explained, walking forward to hug Grace. "Me and May have missed you guys." "We've missed you too," Grace told him, wishing they could be talking under other circumstances. Peter looked to Steve and Bucky then. "Guys, what are we doing here? Did they do something wrong?"

"They didn't register under the Sokovian Accords, and Ross considers them to be a risk to Homeland Security." Steve explained quietly, although he didn't like this either. "We don't want to be used as weapons, by any governments. Please, we just want to be left alone." Sophie pleaded imploringly, hoping they would understand. "Wait, you've got powers?" Peter asked startled, he knew that their mother, Anya was very protective of them. She was very strict about what boys they dated and had a soft spot for him. Sophie and Grace glanced at each other, and it was like they were having a silent conversation. They turned to face Peter, and Grace threw webbing at the wall, causing it to stock. Peter stared at them in shock, and they looked at him sadly. Grace especially looked remorseful, while Sophie simply looked defeated as she looked at Steve and Bucky. "You're both like me?" Peter asked finally, shocked at what he was seeing in front of him. They nodded, and Sophie was the one who spoke up. "We wanted to tell you, Peter. Honestly, we did, but mama was terrified at the thought of the government using us as weapons. She forbade us from telling you, but we tried to protect you," Sophie said quietly, regret in her voice. Peter was just a kid, and she was a grown woman. Peter should be at home studying, or with his friends or with May. Not fighting dangerous criminals, and dangerous organisations. Peter shook his head, he wasn't mad at them, but he was confused as hell as to why the Avengers, and Tony wanted with them. "We'll go with you, just please.... can we take our cats?" Grace said defeatedly, she knew they had no chance against two super soldiers and the Avengers. Not to mention, the Hulk. Steve nodded in understanding, and gently took her by the arm while Bucky took Sophie, as they left the apartment. People had come to see what was going on and were shocked to see the Avengers with them.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Grace was trembling slightly, as they were led outside the apartment building, and showed to a black armoured truck. It looked like a prison van. "Sophie Vera Melnychenko Drăgoi, and Grace Viktoria Melnychenko Drăgoi, you are both under arrest for failure of not signing the Sokovian Accords. Barton, you'll ride with the younger one, while Barnes will take the eldest." A man in a black suit ordered coldly, and two soldiers walked over. "This way, mam." The soldier said quietly to Sophie she looked over at Grace who looked scared. "I'm not leaving my sister." Sophie said firmly, refusing to leave her little sister in the hands of this man. "Are you resisting arrest?" Ross asked challengingly, Sophie squared her shoulders and glared at him.

"Come on," Steve stared down the man in the suit. "They aren't resisting arrest. Let them stay together." "And pose more of a threat together? No," the man replied coldly. Grace hadn't paid attention to the other soldier standing next to the scary one with the metal arm. He was flinching slightly in pain as he dug out a pair of handcuffs. Then he looked up, his gaze meeting hers. It was him. Clint. The way his grey eyes widened on her gave it away. He recognized her. He was the man she remembered meeting. "It's okay, Soph," Grace told her sister before her insistence made their situation worse. "I'll be okay." Sophie frowned at her, mouthed "what the hell". Grace nodded, trying to assure her she didn't feel in any danger. If Sophie wanted to worry about someone, she should worry about the warrior who carefully placed her in handcuffs, strange-looking, thick handcuffs, and helped her into the van. As Grace watched, she was surprised with the care he took with her sister. Maybe there weren't all bad. They were in custody. She had to hope for the best now. The soldier slammed the door behind him and Grace watched the van drive away. Clint stepped up, Grace put down the carriers and held her wrists out in front of her, not contesting when he placed the handcuffs on her. His gaze met her; such sorrow shadowed those kind eyes as they gazed into her eyes. She remembered his children. How much he loved them, how he'd cried for them. He had his initial reaction to their meeting under control, but still, he handled her with care. He winced as he bent to pick up Grace's carriers. "Your side," Grace warned, not wanting him to hurt himself. He only picked up one. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "I'll be okay." Steve grabbed the other carrier at her feet, walking behind them as Clint helped her into another black van and set his carrier down. Steve placed the other carrier in the van, slamming the door shut leaving Grace there on the bench seat next to Clint. "Thank you," Grace said to Clint in the quiet of the van as the engine started. Grace hadn't had a chance to tell her sister about meeting Clint, what she knew about him. Hell, they might have an ally in him in getting away from these people at some point. It broke her heart to have to give up their mother's cake shop. The small business had not only sustained them, it was the one thing their mother was so proud of, had worked so hard on. Their dreams weren't just going to end like this, right? They also had Peter. Maybe he could help them without compromising himself. He could tell them, in truth, that he hadn't know about their abilities before today. That they'd never posed a threat. That had to count for something, right? "Grace?" Clint's lowered voice pulled her from her thoughts. "You do remember me, don't you? That was real, wasn't it?"

"Yes, that was real. I was in your dream last night when you were flatlining. Thought I was going crazy at first, but I wasn't." Grace said quietly and looked at the street where their cake shop was. What if they weren't allowed to run the business? That was their mother's legacy, and Grace felt like she'd let down her mother, and to a degree her father. "Felt real to me, I saw you with your children. I'm sorry, no parent deserves to lose a child." Grace said sadly, her mind drifting to a little boy with dark blonde hair, and a sweet smile. She wiped her eyes quickly, and stroked Starling through the pet carrier, the cat purring softly. Clint looked at her quietly, she seemed to genuinely understand what he was going through. That confused him though, Ross had said that she didn't have any children. 'Maybe she's just being kind, she lost her mom and dad.' He reasoned silently and nodded at her in thanks. Grace smiled quietly and bit her lip. She hoped Sophie was alright.

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Tagging list: @jtargaryen18, @threeminutesoflife, @katebishop2020, @sapphirescrolls, @marvelfansworld, @kitkatd7, and @redfoxwritesstuff

#clint barton fanfiction #clint barton x oc #hawkeye #ronin #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #winter soldier

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steve0discusses · 6 years

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Yugioh S2 Ep 36 Part 2: Pegasus Lives Every Artist’s Worst Reocurring Nightmare

Normally I don’t do more than two posts on a weekend but considering the last post was just overflow on color theory and sort of a mini post (which I was pleasantly surprised so many people liked, thanks for the kind comments on that random color theory aside), and also considering that I try not to do work on the weekend and I’m just kinda bored, here’s the second part of Ep 36.

Lets do a series recap shall we?

-Yugi Muto is three people (this is including a chunk of Bakura which just...lives there but doesn’t do anything)

-Odion is pretending to be Marik

-Marik is pretending to be Namu

-Tea is possessed by Bakura’s ghost

-Ryou Bakura is no longer possessed, but got hella shanked and passed out on Kaiba’s blimp, so we don’t know yet if he was actually British or if that was just a ghost thing.

-Serenity is Joey’s Sister and she Actually Truly Exists although I have kept close track and no one has yet to tell Kaiba who’s sister she is.

-Duke Devlin is just permanently here now, taking the place of Tea Gardner for “Character the writers have no freakin idea what to do with”

-Grandpa passed out a few episodes ago but I think the show forgot.

-Ishizu is here and is hiding from Marik for her dear life despite the fact she still thinks he’s a good boy.

-Shadi showed up to save Tristan and Duke although Shadi has never spoken a word to either of them and has no idea who they are at all.

There we go. A cliff notes-version all in one place. It’s a lot to remember.

Now we’re ready for another round of exciting duel prep.

That’s right, Shadi’s here, and he’s ready to dump a lot of plot on us. Which is why I felt like it would be nice to get a summary up to now because now we’re going to get even more nonsense we have to remember in this kid’s show that I had no idea would be this complicated when I started capping it.

(read more under the cut)

Can we talk about the knot Shadi is using here on that Ankh?

What is that?

OK, I just wanted everyone to look at that and then just...wonder with me,

Anyway, if you were looking for some explanation this episode, this is not that episode, because Shadi is here, and he just...never feels like fully explaining anything. He only ever feels like adding more and more to our bucket of Lore like it’s the 5th book of Harry Potter.

That’s right, this episode is a return to Pegasus, who I do miss. I mean Marik is fine, all in all, but I do miss how Pegasus knew what he was actually doing. I kinda miss my villain who was also a functioning adult.

Anyway, while Pegasus was searching the dunes of Egypt for Egyptian art to make OC’s of and add to his collection, Shadi and he had a very awkward reunion. Bear in mind these two haven’t spoken since Shadi fused Pegasus’ face with a haunted table weight.

And like, here’s the thing about Pegasus--he has the most reason of anyone on this show to not trust Shadi. Yet, now he’s going to follow Shadi into a hole. Literally follow Shadi into a dark and scary hole where no one would find his body.

Thing I wasn’t expecting from this show: Marik’s family is mole people????

OK…

I mean...I guess we’ll just gloss over that.

I mean...I guess I’ve never really thought about it but like...yeah they have to take care of a tomb and the tomb is underground so they just...hang out down here most of the time. Guess that explains how Marik ended up kind of albino-blonde.

Anyway, it’s here that we see a familiar relief sculpture—Apparently Ishizu just excavated her own sacred tomb and was like “lets ship this to Japan to screw with Seto Kaiba.” Not like I blame her, Seto is very easy to screw with.

But here she is being like “I’m this incredible Egyptologist give me your money!” when all she did was loot herself. Well...loot the Pharaoh, I guess, but he’s dead so wtv.

And so, after running around an ancient tomb collecting curses like fleas, he boards a business class, awkwardly shares an armrest with his photographer who equally refuses to give up the armrest (like what the hell is this armrest situation?) and has to endure our colorist’s favorite shade of chartreuse.

Purple/chartreuse is a pretty solid color combo, not gonna lie, but it is the last thing I ever want to see in a plane.

Also, Croquet is back. I guess this was before Pegasus bought an island, and it’s this episode we start to see why he might have wanted to flee the States.

Sometimes I forget this show is based on a horror anime, and this was an episode that brought us back to basics. Like, this is something I would absolutely expect to happen in Season Zero.

I cannot believe that this children’s show had a darkroom murder scene. The audacity. And not just a darkroom murder we also get this type of murder shortly after,

How do you go from the darkroom to this!?

The older I get, the more I would gladly welcome a Huge Sky Dragon over the actual drama I have to deal with on the reg. Please, please let me put Huge Sky Dragon on the ballot. We will let him have Salesforce Tower, he clearly comes with electricity and rain clouds and California desperately needs both those things.

Downside to Huge Sky Dragon unfortunately, is that he kills you.

So, in the classic horror protagonist archetype, Pegasus puts on his favorite shades of beige, he goes into an isolated room where no one can save him, and he reaches for that good ol hubris. Since, in his mind, he has a millennium eye, he’s the all powerful Pegasus, what could hurt him?

You gotta love that he’s such a purist that he paints an itty bitty card on a 6000% bigger canvas. Love that classic illustration nod right there. (and not gonna lie, I would kill for Pegasus’ studio. Damn. Look at it.)

Also look at this in the next cap! He can paint something that’s not a monster or his dead wife--is that a completely normal still life of some random purple flowers back there behind him? What’s he doing painting those??? He’s off killing 1 or 2 people a day in his human sacrifice chamber why’s he painting lilies in pots like everyone’s Mom during Wine ‘n Paint night?

Dude, does Pegasus go to Wine ‘n Paint night? I mean he would, right? Like he would be the first there with a huge ass bottle of wine/juice and be like “I am ready to sip, paint, and gossip about everybody’s husband.” Yo, he’d be killer at Wine ‘n Paint night. Like, I would never be Pegasus’ friend but I would absolutely paint some dumbass flowers in the same room as him as he gets tipsy on margaritas and starts going off about the Great British Bake Off.

And, much like I do when I finish most of my art at 2 AM, he passes out directly after and has anxiety laden dreams about what he just painted for the rest of the evening.

So lets get this straight, if you reproduce this image in any way, let it be traditional, digital, camera, or whatever—you will arouse the God Card ghosts and be straight up The Ring murdered. Unless, you tattoo it to a person’s back, then apparently you’re cool. Also, what the hell was Ishizu doing bringing this thing to a museum? Like yeah it’s in a restricted section but they had like no security on those doors so it’s like, girl—anyone who takes a selfie here will be dead. What else are museums for except avenues for selfies? Way to curate a museum, Ishizu. You had one job.

Also does that mean that if Marik photobombs people without his shirt on that they super die? That kinda sucks a lot, no wonder he wants to get rid of Pharaoh. Marik just wants to go to the beach without having to wear a hoodie and getting a weird tan.

Oi, hashtag relatable, amiright?

Anyway, Pegasus realizes he can’t post this art on main, so he decides to give it to Ishizu to bury it for him. Essentially, he put on his brother’s tumblr because he’s trying to be a professional here but like, who are we joking, the guy draws kids art for dollars. His friends, much like my friends, are full aware of what our sketchbook looks like.

After hearing this weird story, Pharaoh decides to take over and give some closing remarks.

Yugi got TWO huge bottles of mystery purple moisturizer??? Maybe one is just full of hair gel.

Man, Seto had him double covered, he knew--he knew Yugi was nuts for products.

I wonder if it’s full of LA Looks.

I appreciated that Pharaoh might have a physical body but he still enjoys spooking people like a ghost should.

Well, I mean.

So many questions here, but I assume we’re going to learn more about it later? Like why the hell Marik is...in a tomb? As a baby? With a...flower wreath?

What even is this show. Don’t put babies in tombs!

I don’t even know why Shadi even bothered showing up here. Like Ishizu already knows “it’s happening,” she has a future necklace.

Did Shadi show up to every single person on in this ship, Roland and Kaiba included, before actually going to the one place he needed to go?

Man. Phallic necklace. Did they not know about goatse in the early 00’s? Please don’t look that up if you don’t know what it is. I just.

Phallic necklace, please. You’re killing me.

Anyway, Shadi sees a chance to make a change and fix some things with the one person on this ship who desperately needs fixing, and while he’ll save Tristan and Duke and tell Yugi all about his history and etc—actually confronting Bakura? No thanks. Shadi will stay in his safe keyblade power place where no one can see or hear him, not even Bakura.

Not sure why any of the doctors haven’t picked up on Tea being weird as hell yet, but like...compared to the Kaibas and everyone else, I guess possessed Tea is the most normal person on this flying boat.

But that’s all for now, next week we see if they actually start dueling or if instead, even more people from S1 show up on this boat.

If you just got here, we’re like over halfway through S2, so here’s a link to read everything in chrono order from S1 Ep1, have fun.

#Yugioh #Yugioh recap #photo recap #S2 Ep36 #yugi muto #joey wheeler #Maxamillion Pegasus #Shadi #Croquet #Bakura #Tea Gardner #Ishizu #Pegasus really effed everything up when he majored in art huh

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keelywolfe · 6 years

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FIC: Here Comes the Brides

Summary: At Alphys and Undyne's wedding, Edge is more comfortable keeping watch than dancing. He's less content with what he sees.

Notes: Part of the ‘by any other name’ series

Also on AO3

~~*~~

If pressed, Edge would have admitted that it had been a beautiful ceremony. Both brides were lovely and while Edge didn’t find the general female form appealing, he could appreciate their choice of dress. Alphys was in a flowing white dress, her veil floating around her shy, smiling face in a swirl of tulle. Undyne had chosen a tuxedo, managing to look equally elegant and dangerous; Edge had no doubt that there were weapons concealed beneath the gorgeous cut of those trousers and he more than approved. Undyne, at least, understood the importance of being prepared.

From their table, Edge had a clear view of the entire reception. Undyne had done that deliberately, she’d informed him of as much the week before with her typical bluntness. There would be security, they would be prepared, but if the worst happened, he was the one she trusted to help her keep the ones they loved safe.

She trusted him.

(His Undyne had trusted him as well, as much as anyone in Underfell could trust and it wasn’t a betrayal that he couldn’t go back home. It wasn’t.)

(the betrayal was that he didn’t want to)

They were in New New Home, they should be safe but he’d made the mistake of believing that before.

The buffet was finished, though Monsters still went up occasionally to poke at the remnants, and most of the guests had been dancing for the past hour. Edge was fairly certain that Stretch had danced with everyone available except for Asgore, Red, and Edge himself, and Red might have been willing if it hadn’t been for the incident with the two of them and Edge’s car last month. Since he’d told his brother that another stunt like that would result in Edge pulling his spine out through his jaw, he had been somewhat unwilling to drag Stretch out on any other jaunts.

Speaking of Asgore, the King was making his way to Edge’s table in the slow, dignified way he had, the manner of a Monster that was often too-large for the world he inhabited.

He stood next to Edge for a moment, watching the dancers cavorting and laughing, before saying, “The ceremony was lovely.”

“It was,” Edge agreed. “You did a beautiful job on the flowers.”

Asgore only nodded, a little pink with obvious pleasure. “I’ll have designs for your wedding next week. Look them over and let me know what you prefer.”

“Of course.”

“Yes, it was a beautiful ceremony,” Asgore kept his gaze on the dancers where one of the brides was twirling with Frisk. The other was close by, chatting with the Dogi. “I’d spoken to Undyne about allowing it to be broadcast over to the Humans, perhaps a live feed on Youtube, but she believed it would be too much for Alphys. I suspect she was correct, Alphys struggles with too much attention.”

Whereas Stretch basked in it, Edge thought sourly. “If you're about to ask what I think you are, you can save your breath.”

“I wasn't,” Asgore said mildly, “However, I would point out that allowing Humans to observing our traditions would humanize us to them.”

“Be that as it may, I will not allow my vows with my lover to be a tool in this fight,” Edge said, low and firm. “Not that. Besides, you've met Stretch, of all weddings, do you honestly believe that ours is the one you want to advertise?”

“You do have a point,” Asgore chuckled.

“If you want to livestream ceremonies, we can discuss it on Monday. The lighting of the Gyftmas tree in the main square would be a better choice, it matches Human traditions as well as a wedding.”

Asgore considered that, nodding slowly, “Some of the religious leaning parties will object.”

“I suspect advertising same-sex marriages would have the same effect,” Edge said dryly. He was under no illusions about the Human world where that was concerned.

“True, true,” Asgore sighed. “This is why I have a PR team, to think of these things.”

Before Edge could agree with him, Stretch came bouncing over. He’d already lost his tie somewhere and a cuff link, his shirt half-unbuttoned. It was honestly appalling how being adorably mussed was such an attractive look on him.

He ignored Asgore, tugging instantly on Edge’s hand. “c’mon, come dance with me!”

“No, thank you,” Edge told him and noticed Asgore taking the moment to make a discreet exit. Coward.

All too quickly, Stretch gave up, a fair sign that he was exhausted and too stubborn to give in. He flopped into the chair next to Edge with a whine, picking at a half-empty plate of hors d’oeuvres, grumbling, “oh, come on! are you going to leave me standing around at our wedding?”

“I’m not planning on any dancing whatsoever at our wedding,” Edge said archly, “so that won’t be an issue.”

Instead of the expected sarcasm or loud protest, all that came was a quiet, “oh.”

With some surprise, Edge looked at Stretch to see him eye lights downcast, tracing his finger absently against the table.

“Oh, honestly, of course we are going to have dancing,” Edge exclaimed, “I was kidding! And I will dance a pre-determined amount with you, so choose your songs wisely.”

“haha,” Stretch gave him a lopsided grin, “you’re hilarious. fine, sit here alone, me and my dance fever can handle this.”

With that, he was off again, and if there was less bounce in his steps…well. Edge noticed things and he knew. What he didn’t understand was Stretch’s reaction to his teasing; it wasn’t anything new, Edge was well accustomed to playing the straight man to the seemingly endless comedians who ruled his life. Stretch had never taken him seriously before so why now, why this?

It was the fact that they were at a wedding, it had to be. Edge knew he was anxious about their upcoming nuptials, that he understood. What he didn’t understand was why.

They’d been together for close to three years and living together for over one. Marriage should be a natural progression but for all that it was obviously what Stretch wanted, he was behaving strangely about it. Simple anxiety? Edge didn’t know and Stretch didn’t seem willing to discuss it. Whenever Edge brought it up, be it the invitations or the floral arrangements or the dinner, Stretch varied between utter boredom or even outright disdain into nervous joking and, occasionally, fleeing the room.

Anxiety, it had to be. Well, once the ceremony was through, he’d likely relax and be able to enjoy the party. It was just a firm indication that it would be best to keep things simple and that Edge had known to begin with.

That aside, either way his joke had stolen away some of Stretch’s joy tonight and while he hadn’t intended it, that didn’t make it less true. With a sigh, Edge got to his feet. The things he did for love.

First, he went to Undyne, silently and discreetly indicating to her that he would not be keeping watch for the moment. She accepted that easily, her eye gleaming and perhaps only Edge could see the shift in her demeanor as she became watchful. Next, he went to the DJ, who to Edge’s eyes seemed to be approximately twelve. He was reluctant about Edge’s request but a twenty-dollar bill smoothed the way easily enough.

The energetic song that had been thundering out faded and the soft strains of saxophone music rose. The dance floor cleared and Edge caught hold of Stretch before he could escape, pulling him into his arms. He stumbled briefly before he caught the rhythm, allowing Edge to guide him into a slow waltz.

“kenny g?” Stretch shook his head, but he was smiling, “are you serious?”

“You listen to your music and I’ll listen to mine.”

“yeah, well, edgelord, you need less leather in your closet and more button up sweaters to listen to this.”

His voice rose into a startled laugh as Edge twirled him unexpectedly, and Stretch moved with easy grace back into his arms. He didn’t know why anyone would be surprised that Stretch was an excellent dancer. Dancing had similar elements to fighting and for all his Sansy ways, at the end of the day, he was a Papyrus.

“The waltz was scandalous when it first came out,” Edge informed him, pulling him in a fraction closer.

Stretch offered him a lopsided smile, “great, but no one thinks of the wild, rebellious ways of mozart when they dance it.”

“They should. The man wrote a composition that essentially translates into ‘kiss my ass’.”

That earned him another startled laugh, a softer one, and Stretch settled his head on Edge’s shoulder and simply let him lead them across the floor.

A glance around confirmed that they were alone on the dance floor and Edge caught sight of Alphys watching them from the sidelines with starry-eyed pleasure. Edge resisted the urge to scowl at her; Red had taken entirely too much delight in showing him the secret manga she’d published online about Reg and Rus, going into entirely too much detail about their personal lives, and he had not been amused. But it was her wedding day and he wasn’t about to spoil it by giving her an anxiety attack.

Jeff was standing with Antwan, also goopily starry-eyed and Edge did glare at him. To no effect, apparently Jeff was finally getting over his reticence about Edge.

Pity.

It seemed better to close his sockets and simply enjoy the feel of Stretch in his arms, his warmth, and the faint spiciness of his cologne coupled with the sweetness of his magic.

The music ended with a last flourish and Edge came to a stop, ignoring the applause around them as he took Stretch’s face in his hands and held him still for a soft kiss. Sooner than he would have expected, Stretch drew away, again giving him that faint, lopsided smile.

“hey, i’m going to head outside for a smoke.”

Edge frowned, “All right.”

He watched Stretch make his way to the doors, already searching through the inside pocket of his jacket for his cigarettes. Edge was a little confused but sat back down and took back over his watch, waiting for him. And waiting.

Stretch didn’t return for a long time.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #us!papyrus #uf!papyrus #underswap #underfell #by any other name

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