#alex has the worst taste in men ever

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

i was so so so annoyed by this "billionaire with a heart of gold" shit tms was peddling and the last couple episodes have been a relief

[onthewaytosomewhere]

💚thanks ever so much for the tags my dears @sophie1973 @theprinceandagcd @henryspearl @myheartalivewrites @sheepywritesfics

@suseagull04 & @taste-thewaste 😘

so after posting that lil fic on Sunday I've moved right back to what I need to be working on ... my fic for the @ficwip dark & cozy event

so i played with a lil art for it and wrote some words last night so it's moving along (even if it has a fair bit to go yet lolz) (even if i really wanna work on the new liam/pez i started last night as well)

putting this all beneath the cut cuz a bit of art (still also WIP) and words shared today 💚

i'm really torn on these i really kinda like the coffee shop sign and not sure if need to work it into the title card or keep it so they just share similar elements and post both with the fic... or if i even really like the title card - i suppose that's why its a wip lolz

and now here's (wonderwall) words from the same fic 💚

“Thanks, Nora swears that I’ve become more of a klutz since the change, and I don’t need any more reasons for her to threaten to spend all my money on new cups for this place.” The smile Henry gives him as he hands the cup and saucer to Alex almost seems shy, and it should appear out of place on someone who’s lived as many lives as he has, but Alex can’t help but think how it makes him want to kiss him. It’s as if some force he can’t explain is pulling him toward Henry. He’s been able to resist the pull for the sake of not wanting to come on too strong, but really, it’s getting harder not to make a fool of himself over Henry. There’s a moment when time seems to freeze between them, and then Alex is brought out of it when Henry speaks, “Well, we can’t have that; you need that money to take me out once you finally work up the courage to ask.” Alex drops the cup in his hand, and once again, Henry catches it before it can hit the floor, this time setting it back on the table. “I’m sorry … what?! … how …” Alex takes a deep breath, begging his mind to stop acting like a computer that has blue-screened, and continues, “So, you’d be up for that?” Henry smiles at him, and Alex’s already fast-beating heart stutters, “Well, as good as your tea is, it’s not the only reason I frequent your shop.” “But, you’ve never said anything. Hell, you barely talk past your order most nights unless I talk to you first.” “To be fair, you never said anything either, but I’m not as brave as this moment would have you believe. I may have spent too much time around Pez lately, and well, if I have to hear him tell me one more time that I should ‘suck it up and say something so I could suck what I really wanted,’ well, it will be one more time too many, truly.” “Huh, so ‘ya vaaant to suck my bluuudd’ do ya?” Alex replies with his worst stereotypical vampire accent. He rakes his eyes over Henry’s body and waits until Henry takes a drink of his tea to continue, “There’s definitely a few things I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth on.” Henry nearly chokes on the tea, and Alex never actually realized that vampires could choke, but apparently, that’s a thing that can happen. Henry looks at him, blue eyes full of mirth, and smirks, “Noted.” Alex nearly falls over when the bell above the door chimes; so much for his Were instincts being strong when he’s lost in flirting with pretty men or … well, vamps. Before turning to the customer entering, he whispers, “We will be coming back to this later.” Henry gives him one of those damn enigmatic smiles of his, and Alex nearly tells the customer to leave so he can stay there flirting with him. However, once he turns and sees who it is, he knows that won’t be happening.

i'm just gonna slap some tags down here so if i miss ya and ya wanna do this consider this ur big ole open tag!!

no-pressure tag ur it! to @adreamareads @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @caterpills @duchessdepolignaca03

@england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic

@heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway

@jmagnabo92 @littlemisskittentoes @mikibwrites @nocoastposts @priincebutt

@softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @thesleepyskipper

@thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @everwitch-magiks @cricketnationrise

@myheartalivewrites @porcelainmortal @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @captainjunglegym

@cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes @judasofsuburbia @doublecheekedkinard @cricketnationrise

(i realize it's no longer wednesday for some of ya and some of ya may have already done this but - my fingers typed ur name so 'hi' if that's the case lolz)

[writer-with-no-home]

Honey, I'm taking no orders (I'm gonna be nobody's soldier)

Chapter V

Warnings: Graphic depictions of Violence, Mentions of Rape/Non-con

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3.6k

Story Summary:

Alex has never known her real parents. She doesn't want to. The men who raised her were cruel and treated her more like a weapon than a human, and she had barely come out alive. The scar tissue that litters almost every inch of her body, layer upon layer, is all the proof anyone needs. When she wakes to an owl with her Hogwarts letter and the subsequent revelation that she's Rosalie Potter, twin to the boy-who-lived, she begins one of the worst days of her life. Suddenly, the family she does not care for wants her back, the ministry is hell bent on making their wishes a reality, and she is suddenly the most interesting topic in the wizarding world. Alex isn't interested in playing happy family: she's bitter and angry and if years of torture have taught her anything, it's that there is always a way out. She has no interest in yielding to guilt-filled attempts to gain her trust, and quietly counts down the days till Hogwarts begins and she can stay away from anybody remotely associated with the Potter family. Caught between her desire for her old life and the ever looming presence of her biological family, Alex must navigate a world where magic doesn’t ease pain, and blood doesn’t guarantee trust.

Chapter Summary:

His scars from where Greyback ripped him apart are visible: she is familiar with the sight by now, Greyback’s marks are distinct, unmistakeable. He always goes for the torso, and uses his teeth more than his claws. He enjoys the taste of the blood – sweeter than honey, he’d taunted. He’s methodical, practised at turning people. He knows just how much to tear them apart, making sure his victims suffer and survive. He doesn’t want bodies. He wants soldiers. The dead are useless to him. She’d seen the dead he created, the aftermath of his violence: when he wasn’t meticulous enough, when the venom spread faster than he’d anticipated, when the bodies he tore to shreds were too small, too fragile, to survive long enough for the venom to take effect. A seasoned killer, indeed. If only it had been enough to save him when she ripped his head clean off his shoulders.

a/n: Hi! Sorry for being gone for so long, this chapter was a bit difficult because I didn't know where I wanted it to go, but to make up for it I will try to have another chapter out within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter V: Alexandria IV

Alexandria woke to the entirety of her torso burning in pain, she grumbled, sitting up and calling her dagger to her palm, she dragged the blade back over the rune, getting rid of the illusions, shoulders slacking in relief once the pain stopped. She stood, determined to get out of this house as fast as possible. She took a quick shower, and got dressed, leaving with some weapons and her walkman. She didn’t bother using the door, choosing to open her window and climb her way down.

The sun was still rising when her boots hit the ground, the sight in front of her was familiar, trees towering over her for miles, green stretching for as far as the eye could see. She took a deep breath, focusing on the air flowing into her lungs, her chest expanding, shoulders rising, and then she let go. The air was pushed out, and Alex could hear her heart beating beneath her skin: with that, she opened her eyes and took off running.

She ran as fast as she could, passing through the trees in a blur. She had left her walkman in her pocket, so no music was playing. She could hear the birds chirping, the sounds of running water, and the steady thump of her heart, and nothing mattered for a moment. Nothing but the feeling of her feet hitting the ground, the pounding of her shoes against the mud and dirt, the wind in her hair and the green all around her.

She ran for miles and miles before she was in a small town, she ran through it, ignoring the weird looks she was getting, only turning back when a dull ache began to seep through her bones.

She turned back, running through the forest until she got back to the edges that were around the house. She didn’t want to go back in. She stared at the house for a moment, her eyes on the lights being switched on. Someone was awake. She huffed, she still had at the very least three hours before they started to look for her, and she knew Felix and Pat would worry if the Potter’s contacted them, so she just had to make sure to be back before then.

She climbed the nearest tree with practised ease, laying on a branch that she made sure was out of the house’s line of sight. She could see them but they could not see her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the tree, enjoying the familiar sounds of the forest. She hadn’t lived in a forest in about half a year, but it was the place that seemed most like home to her, more so than her apartment and her room in Felix’s apartment.

She opened her eyes when she felt soft fur against her arm, the wide, golden eyes of a cat staring back at her, and Alex smiled genuinely for the first time since she’d been told of her fate yesterday. She let her fingers sink into the soft, black coat, her body relaxing slightly as she did. She leaned back, ready to close her eyes again when the cat meowed, she looked at it curiously and it meowed again, moving to climb back down the tree. 

Alex huffed, so much for not returning back to that house. She gathered her things and followed the cat back to the house, it had been a few hours since she had first laid on that branch and the house was now bustling with activity, she could see Mr Potter, followed closely by Harry.

She made her way around, climbing onto the roof below her bedroom window with ease, the cat didn’t follow her, choosing to stay outside the door and scratch at it. Alex pulled her window up, climbing in, making sure her movements were silent. She closed the window behind her, and went to take a shower, ignoring the laughter that made her skin crawl.

She let the cold water run over her, rubbing her skin harshly, leaving angry red lines in her wake. The sight of blood broke her out of it. She quickly got out of the shower, getting dressed and standing in front of the mirror.

She didn’t like the prospect of looking like this all the time, she looked far too much like the Potters for her liking. She had to find a solution, and quickly, she only had a month before she was faced with Hogwarts.

She blinked in surprise when she heard a knock at the door but chose to ignore it, sitting on her makeshift bed, earphones in and sketchbook out. No one attempted to open the door with a spell. Alex didn't even see the handle pushed to signal someone was trying to open it with their hands, so as the day passed she stayed like that, forgoing food in favour of the feeling of safety and eventually it worked. The room became somewhat of a safe haven.

She spends the day drawing and slowly pulling up the runes Ollivander had made her take off. Various safety runes and runes that took more than just being carved make her take a break because no food and blood magic was a deathly mix. By the time the sky started to get dark she’d managed to pull up almost all of her runes, save for the ones involved with her appearance: she'd have to see how far her magic would allow her to take that.

The chances of her managing to pull all of it back up was low, but a girl could dream.

She waits until everyone is in their rooms to slip downstairs to eat, and even then it’s not much of a meal: some toast and fruit. She manages to eat the entire thing though, so that’s a win. She’ll take them where she can get them.

The rest of the week passes much the same, with her making an effort to stay away from the family, only going down when they are all fast asleep. They knock a few times, vying for her attention, but she never opens the door, and the knocks lessen over the week.

She learns a lot, from staying in her room, whispers of a pack coming for Remus, she almost laughs at their worries of Greyback. She knows he won’t be there, she has his head as part of her collection. She had taken pleasure in removing his claws and torturing the sick bastard: he deserved it. It was his pack who would come for Remus. They thought he had something to do with their leader's disappearance. 

Alex knows the pack will come tonight, her run in the morning had been enough proof that they were already in the area, if the missing foals were any indication. The wolves in the area had also been on edge, further proof that Greyback’s pathetic pack was coming for Remus.

She doesn’t call him Lupin anymore, not after realising his own father was the one who hated werewolves so much Greyback had chosen his son for revenge. She is not needlessly cruel, or at least she does not wish to be.

Old habits die hard, afterall.

She can hear the telltale sound of the children going to sleep, grumbling the entire time, and Alex listens carefully to the plan they have.

“They’ll be here soon, what exactly do you plan to do, James?” Remus, Alex notes, not without humour, sounds as though he thinks the plan is stupid. Alex does not have to know what the plan is to agree with him. These fools didn’t even know what a blood moon werewolf is, and although she knows Greyback’s pack doesn’t have any blood moon wolves, they don’t. Not to mention that most spells are useless against a werewolf.

“Last I checked, they don’t want to get involved with wizards Moony, we should be able to deter them.” James replies and Alex breathes out a sigh of annoyance. He’s an idiot. Fun.

Well, it would be if he wasn’t going to get himself killed. Alex may get in trouble with certain contacts for killing a pack of wolves without warning, but she’d take it. She wasn’t going to watch anymore innocent people die, not if she could help it. Well, innocence was subjective, and as much as she hated most of the fools downstairs they were still innocent by Hell’s laws. Unfortunately.

“Are you an idiot, James?” Remus exclaimed, and Alex’s lips twitched upwards. At least someone had sense. “They’re werewolves, they’ll tear all of you apart to be able to get to me! Not to mention, they are Greyback’s wolves! They don’t care about wizards, they will kill you.”

Alex drowns out the rest of his rant, focusing on the incoming footsteps pounding on dirt, they’re here. They can get into the grounds, but they can’t get onto the porch, that much is evident by the way their makeshift leader releases a roar loud enough to shake the house. Alex hears the fools downstairs scramble to open the door, and when they stand on the porch, Alex makes her way downstairs.

She heads to the kitchen, no one is going to kill anyone yet, they’re just going to exchange pathetic threats, she might as well get something to eat. She makes herself a cup of tea, carving the rune for her illusions as the kettle boils, and then, slowly sipping her tea, she walks out onto the porch nonchalantly.

Everyone’s eyes turn toward her, but her eyes are on the wolf closest to the porch, if he has enough intent, he can get past the wards, they haven’t been particularly well kept and he is a werewolf, half-shifted too, his hide will bounce magic straight off.

She sizes him up, he is relatively tall, just over six feet, his claws are out, and his hands have patches of fur on the back but his tan skin is there, a testament to the only half-filled moon. His entire back is covered in fur, climbing up his neck, where it meets his face, his ears are still human, but they point up slightly, much like a goblin’s or a faeries. He has sharp cheekbones, and sharp, blue eyes that Alex knows have seen many people take their last breaths. It means nothing to her. She has seen more.

His fur is a mix of light brown and grey, the front of his torso has only slight patches of fur, and his fangs are sharp and stick out as he grins wildly, his brown hair is short, and Alex can barely spot where his human side ends and his wolf begins. She knows his legs are covered in patches of fur too, she can see it just under his shorts, but she doesn’t move her eyes from his face.

He is grinning sharply, and where most people would cower or at least feel some semblance of fear at the sight, Alex doesn’t, she barely blinks as she takes a sip of the tea. No sugar.

“Well, lucky me! We have a child just ripe for the picking.” He exclaims with glee, and Alex smiles back. It is devoid of any humour.

His scars from where Greyback ripped him apart are visible: she is familiar with the sight by now, Greyback’s marks are distinct, unmistakeable. He always goes for the torso, and uses his teeth more than his claws. He enjoys the taste of the blood – sweeter than honey, he’d taunted. He’s methodical, practised at turning people. He knows just how much to tear them apart, making sure his victims suffer and survive. He doesn’t want bodies. He wants soldiers. The dead are useless to him.

She’d seen the dead he created, the aftermath of his violence: when he wasn’t meticulous enough, when the venom spread faster than he’d anticipated, when the bodies he tore to shreds were too small, too fragile, to survive long enough for the venom to take effect.

A seasoned killer, indeed. If only it had been enough to save him when she ripped his head clean off his shoulders.

The wolf in front of her will take even less effort to kill. He cannot even stand evenly, he is leaning to his right side, unconsciously. She takes a step forward, taking a sip of her tea again, she relaxes her body since the first time she stepped foot in this house. Lupin is to her right, she puts the cut of tea on the wood rail around the porch, taking her time, her movements slow and relaxed.

“I wasn’t aware I was in your age range, Weber.” She replies finally and she can see his eyes flash with surprise.

Immediately, his entire body language changes, he’s no longer relaxed, although he tries to feign it, she can see his eyes narrow warily, his arms are tense, ready to fight back at a moments notice. The muscles across his torso tense, and she laughs lightly at the response. Her grin is sharp now, and his has dropped entirely.

“Such a shame you were in Greybacks when your father decided to pull the fool into a fight, hmm?” She continues easily, her movements are fluid, her body language could not be more relaxed. This is familiar, she can do familiar.

“How do you know that?” He asks and she can see his wary eyes flick over her body for weapons, he won’t see any. She left them upstairs.

He continues to stare at her with poorly concealed fear and her grin widens as she tilts her head, looking at him in amusement. She scans over him, making sure her movements are slow and obvious.

In truth, she has already spotted all of his weaknesses, she knows every movement he will make every time she opens her mouth, it had taken her a few seconds after seeing him. He does not know that.

“You think Remus here has something to do with Greyback’s disappearance, right?” She asks her own question instead of answering his own and his eyes widen, but his pack closes around him, baring their teeth at her in warning.

She ignores the warning, taking another step forward, Remus is behind her now, and she smiles at Nicolas, goading him, she is begging for a fight now, hoping for one. She wants their blood dripping from her hands.

“He does!” Nicolas growls out and Alex’s grin lifts slightly, a small huff of laughter escaping her. No one behind her has so much as quickened their breath, their eyes on her, horrified and impressed all at once. “What, you think you know better, child?”

Alex laughs then, the sound is soft and light, it carries like a breeze through the trees, echoing in the night. She smiles at him, and her voice is only slightly condescending when she speaks: it is never full of emotion, not unless the emotion is anger.

“Well, I can tell you Remus here has no idea where Greyback is.” She leans forward, lowering her voice mockingly, as though she’s telling a secret, even though her voice still carries over the crowd. “I do, though,” she reveals, her eyes twinkling.

That must be enough for Weber, because in a flash, he swipes his arm at her, aiming for his claws to tear through her face. Alex doesn’t even blink, catching the hand right before the claws hit her face. She smirks then, her body is still lax, and her eyes are alight with amusement.

She tuts in mocking disapproval. “Well, Nicolas, I suppose you don’t want to hear about Greyback’s very impressive demise.”

He stiffens, his eyes widen, and she continues – his shock will keep him still for a few more seconds.

“I did take a great amount of pleasure in ripping him to shreds. I started by removing his claws, you see–” she moves her thumb, pushing it up into his palm, inspecting his claws tauntingly, “–they’re easy to remove. All it takes is a restraint to keep you in place and–” she pauses again, moving her eyes from his claws to meet his.

She smiles at the fear she finds. “Then I just have to pull them out. One. By. One.”

Alex smiles further when she sees him bare his teeth. He growls, pulling his other hand back, ready for a fight. But she moves first, swift and decisive – she won’t wait for him to strike this time.

Her patience is thin.

In a blur, her hand curls around his head as she kicks his knees out, forcing him downward. She grips his chin and twists.

A sharp crack echoes as she pulls, followed by the sickening sound of skin tearing. She is used to it. No one else is.

She sees the fear and disgust out of the corner of her eye – the other werewolves look as though they are struggling not to vomit onto the forest floor, lest they appear even weaker.

In the blink of an eye, she stands with his head in her hands, her fingers slick with blood, still hot, and dripping from her nimble fingers as his body lies lifeless at her feet. The other werewolves growl, forming a tight circle around her. They lower themselves, baring their teeth as their muscles tighten, prepared to kill her.

Alex raises a brow, unimpressed.

She doesn’t think – there’s no need. She steps off the porch, and instinct takes over. The years of training guide her every movement.

One by one, they charge.

And she tears. And tears. And tears.

Blood spatters hot against her face, she can feel it drip off her chin, from her red curls onto her face. The forest echoes with the snap of bones, the wet squelch of muscle ripping apart beneath her experienced fingers. The wolves howl and roar, clawing and kicking, spitting mud and dirt onto her clothes and into their fur, their desperate cries turning to gurgled begging as they fight to gain the upper hand.

A set of claws sink deep into her forearms, sinking through layers of flesh. She doesn’t flinch as she rips their limbs from their bodies, her grip does not waver as the claws sink further into her arm, scraping bone in their pain.

The forest floor is painted red.

She stands straight, blinking the blood from her eyelashes, it drips from her arms, her shirt is covered in the hot liquid, sticking to her skin, her hair is matted with it, it’s dripping down her back and from her fingers, and down her legs, but she doesn't care. No one who travels with Greyback has any problems with hurting children, especially not if they come in search of him.

Her eyes move to the one werewolf who lays unharmed, apart from a few bruises she had given him. He scrambles back in fear and she almost huffs in annoyance, hasn't she shown that if she wanted him dead, he would be?

She moves forward, and he is tense beneath her gaze, his eyes filled with fear. She offers him a hand, and he takes it carefully, she lets go once he stands, and his voice, small and fearful pipes up then. “Why am I not dead?” She looks at him, her eyes uncharacteristically soft.

“You aren’t someone who enjoys hurting others. You’re not a rapist or a murderer, you came because you were afraid.” She answers simply, but it only sparks more questions in him, she can see it.

“But how could you know that?” He asks and she smiles, it’s almost mocking, not quite condescending.

“Don’t ask too many questions, Andrei.” She replies, and when the rune on the small of her back burns lightly she speaks again. “You won’t remember who I am when you leave. Not what I look like, not how old I am, nothing. The memory will still be there, but details about me and where you found me, they’ll be gone. You understand?” He nods jerkily.

“Leave.” It’s an order, not a request, and he must sense the shift in her behaviour because he runs, his footsteps pound against the dirt and leaves.

She turns, her eyes meeting black slits in a hue of deep, fiery red, and she smiles, this time genuinely. “Abaddon,” she greets, moving forward, past the sea of dead bodies, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” It’s not really a question, she knows why he’s here.

Abaddon smiles, though the expression looks unsettling on his human face encircled by demonic eyes but Alex does not flinch. She knows the man would not hurt her, and even if he tried, he would not get very far.

He is still a demon though, and beautiful, as they all are. His human face has sharp cheekbones and dark skin, but the bright red eyes and blue veins that snake across his entire body are distinctly not human.

Without them, he could be mistaken for human – a very beautiful one, but a human nonetheless. By keeping them, he sends a message, and it isn’t meant for Alex, but the humans behind her.

He holds out a file once she’s within reach and she takes it, taking the quill he hands her. It’s a blood quill, and as she signs her name in perfect cursive, she feels the familiar sting of her name being burned into her thigh, where a brand lies.

Alex lifts her eyes once she’s done, handing the file back to him without a word. Abaddon gives a shallow bow, his eyes still locked on hers.

“Thank you for your service, executioner.” She fights the urge to scowl at the alias and nods instead, her eyes do not hide her anger, though, and Abaddon swallows. “Your payment will be given on the next nightfall.”

Alex nods, and with a blink, the demon is gone.

She turns, and is suddenly aware of the dozens of eyes on her. Time to face the music. 

a/n: As always, if you notice any mistakes please let me know, and leave a comment if you can because I love to chat!

Ao3 link here

[sparklepocalypse]

First Line Analysis

Big thanks to @kiwiana-writes, @energievie, and @read-and-write- for the tags here! It's been awhile since I've done something like this, and I've posted a few things since then, so here we go!

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

Opening Lines, from most to least recent:

“We’ll just have to keep it very casual, of course.” Henry is an idiot. He hopes desperately that this realization isn’t written all over his face, like his every thought always is when it comes to the man sitting opposite him on the boldly colored sofa. The taste of Alex’s cum still lingers in Henry’s mouth, and he might have just prevented himself from ever getting a refresher, and — [Nobody Knows, Just We Two | Alex/Henry | E]

Each evening, Alex texts when he gets off the subway, and today is no different. Be home in ten. Love you. Missed your face. [He Drives Me Fucking Crazy; I am His Everything | Alex/Henry | E]

“Ma, seriously. I’m sixteen. I can go to the UN fundraiser,” Alex huffs, smoothing down the front of his shirt as the car rolls to a stop. “It feels like you’re dropping me off at daycare. I don’t even know these people.” [Count to Ten & Breathe Real Deep | Alex/Henry | E]

“Oh, come on,” Alex groans as traffic grinds to a halt on I-10 just outside of Norwalk. His shift starts in an hour and a half; it’s his first as a face character, and he’s going to be late if the cars don’t get fucking moving. [Love Like Yours Will Surely Come My Way | Alex/Henry | E]

The worst part about being a siren in the modern era, Henry ponders as yet another ship flies past his cove at a speed that he knows will disturb the anemone gardens below, is the yacht bros. Between the sound of their vessels’ motors and the dissonant noise the humans call music, Henry’s singing has no chance of attracting anyone’s attention. [All the Ocean Was Sleeping | Alex/Henry | E]

Alex Claremont-Diaz is sixteen years old, and he hasn’t presented. His dad seems to think it’s fine and offers Alex regular reassurance that his cousin Angel hadn’t presented until nearly 20. His mom, though, gets a little crease between her eyebrows whenever she thinks Alex isn’t looking. Presenting is a Big Deal in the Claremont family, and Alex just... hasn’t. [Late Bloomer | Alex/Henry | E]

For once, they’re not due on set until nearly noon. The night shoot at the V&A had run until nearly 1 AM, and Matthew had deliberately given the cast a recovery day, with only their Prime Video interview scheduled until that evening. It will, the Prime reps have promised, be a low pressure interview featuring some unserious activities framing an opportunity to reintroduce themselves to the world as the men bringing Alex and Henry to life. [You're the Spark That Won't Go Out | Taylor/Nick | E]

Nick can pinpoint the exact moment the line disappears. [Just Want You to Make Me Move | Taylor/Nick | E]

It’s coming. [Single Sad-Sack Seeking Same | Alex/Henry | E]

“Go win an election.” [Wrap Me Up, Unfold Me | Alex/Henry | E]

Analysis and tags behind the jump because that's already a wall of text. ��🤣

First Line Analysis:

Not a ton of world-building in any of these first lines.

You can typically tell what sort of AU one of the more out-there AUs is going to be from the first line; Late Bloomer mentions presentation; All the Ocean Was Sleeping mentions sirens. The less outlandish AUs are less obvious.

60% of my last 10 fics make it clear whose POV you're reading in the first line.

Only one of these first lines contains a swear word; likewise, only one contains an overt reference to smut (even though these are literally all rated E).

Two of these first lines are a single sentence under five words; the remainder are... much longer.

Two of the first lines are either just a quote from the movie script or include a quote from the movie.

Four of the first lines open on dialogue, and of the rest, five are expository and one is ominous.

Tagging @eusuntgratie, @firenati0n, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @duchessdepolignaca03, @priincebutt,

@violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @cactusdragon517, @bigassbowlingballhead, @anincompletelist, @cha-melodius,

@orchidscript, @porcelainmortal, @thesleepyskipper, @onthewaytosomewhere, @mudbloodpotter05

[kingbob2-0]

(thank u , I knew I got it wrong somehow)

21- century stuff and anything not pure adamantine has a nasty aftertaste or tastes stale. And doesn’t keep him full for very long. (POEs can probably keep him full for days) But he CAN eat them.

maybe that’s how he and Alex originally meet instead of him finding/ eating a random Poe. They meet after they both try to raid the same military base at the same time. Alex for the info and Desmond for the “food”. (He was so goddamn hungry, and the entire blue zone practically REEKED of snacks) this would probably help establish Des as more of an ally in Alex’s eyes, and a little less of someone he wants to eat. (He still considers it for a minute tho, but hey, The worst Des has ever done to him is lick him.)

almost feel bad for blackwatch, not only are their men being eaten, but so are the supplies and weapons (Des probably stole and redistributed their rations, so now they are running low on food.)

(I’m imagining Desmond just going through like a shark in a feeding frenzy, eating all the weapons, and Alex just follows after a little slower and takes care of anyone left alive.)

Just thought of something funny: protocreed but it’s the Desmond can eat poes au. Like Alex sees this guy who is making the virus go all: information?!? Mutation!?! Food!? What is!? And is like whatever I can eat him/talk to him/whatever easily, he looks harmless. Desmond: *kills a bunch of guys and then EATS the sphere of solid metal they were guarding.* Alex: … What

The 'Desmond Eats His Problems Away' Idea.

This feels like it would end up with Alex sorta wanting to eat Desmond because he's curious if he can inherit Desmond's ability to eat non-biological things while Desmond sorta wants to try eating Alex because he believes Alex may be some kind of sentient POE but, at the same time, since he has a sentience, Desmond's like "it would be weird to eat him" even though he just spent his time eating weird shit anyway.

Then this entire situation gets more complicated when they both meet the one.

The only.

The eldritch devourer of everything.

Kirby.

[fruitcoops]

If the requests are still open, I watched the try guys trying sexy alcohol video recently (The Try Guys Sexy Alcohol Taste Test is the name of the video) and I was laughing the whole time. I was thinking it would be really fun to have the team do it for a social media video if you wanted to write it! :)

I absolutely love the Try Guys and I’ve been watching their videos for years--thank you so much for suggesting this! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove and the link to the original video is here

TW for alcohol and lots of sexual references

“I’m so fucking excited for this video,” Finn said, drumming his hands on the table.

Remus gave him a disbelieving look. “You have the lowest alcohol tolerance on the entire team, Harzy. I’d be shocked if you were still awake by the end of this.”

“We’ll find out soon enough!” Marlene announced offscreen. “Do the intro and then we’ll get started.”

“Welcome back to Lion Pride, folks! I’m Finn O’Hara—”

“—and I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Dude, you said I could do the intro.”

“I can’t even say my own name?”

“Boys,” Marlene warned.

Finn cleared his throat and turned back to the camera with a bright smile. “Today we’re tasting sexy alcohol, even though I have no idea what that means!”

The video cut to a different table and James waved to the camera. “Hey, everyone! I’m James Potter, and I’m here today with our wonderful captain Sirius Black to taste test sexy alcohol!”

“What qualifies alcohol as sexy?” Sirius asked. “Is it supposed to turn you on, or something?”

“The names are sexy,” Marlene clarified. “Ready for the first one?”

A title card appeared with Drink 1: Sex on the Beach written in cursive letters.

“Sex on the beach!” Remus and Finn chorused, clinking their glasses together and taking a sip. Remus made a face, while Finn looked thoughtful as he smacked his lips.

“Why is it so sour?” Remus coughed, setting the drink down.

“You’re not a fan of sex on the beach?” Finn teased. “This is always the classy lady drink in movies. It’s not bad, actually.”

James’ face scrunched up as he drank and Sirius went through a whole range of emotions, then tried it again. “It’s not better the second time,” he said. “Just…weird.”

“Much like actual sex on the beach, it’s flat out uncomfortable.” James slid the glass out of reach.

“You’ve had sex on a beach?”

“Haven’t you?”

“No, sand gets everywhere even when I don’t strip down.”

“Ha! Loser.” The video transitioned right as Sirius reached over to smack the back of his head.

Drink 2: Buttery Nipple

“A fucking what?” Remus laughed, leaning toward the camera crew. Marlene repeated the name and he nodded slowly. “Okay, that’s what I thought you said.”

Finn sniffed the shot. “Is that butterscotch?”

“It is,” Marlene said.

“Rad. On three. One, two, three!”

They knocked their shots back at the same time and Remus raised his eyebrows as he swallowed. “That’s really not that bad. Best nipple I’ve ever tasted.”

“Very sweet, I like it,” Finn agreed around his grin.

A smile twitched at the corners of Remus’ mouth. “You like the buttery nipple?”

“I do like the buttery nipple,” Finn snorted, sending them both into peals of laughter.

James stared down at his shot glass, then turned to Sirius and opened his mouth; Sirius reached over and covered it with his palm. “Don’t say it.”

“But it really looks like—”

“I know.” Sirius bit his lip, sighed, and downed the shot. “Y’know, that’s actually pretty good.”

James rolled the empty glass between his fingers. “That would give me a wicked headache in the morning.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure.”

Drink 3: Suck, Bang, Blow

There was a brief pause as Remus and Finn shared a look. “I think that’s the wrong order,” Finn said after a moment.

Remus nodded. “Bang is generally last on the list if you’re doing it right.”

“It also implies that you’re not sucking on the last part, which is just bad blowjob etiquette.”

“Bottoms up.” Remus tapped the rim of their glasses together and took a sip—almost immediately, he spat it back out. “What in the unholy fuck is that?”

“My whole face is itching,” Finn coughed. “Holy shit, there’s so many different types of alcohol in there that is just tastes like straight-up sugar. I would order this at a bar if I was horny and sad and didn’t care who I went home with.”

“Yeah, this is what you get if you want something that’ll fuck you up.” Remus paused for a second, then covered his mouth with his hand. “You know who would drink this?”

“Who?”

“People who live in Florida.”

Finn’s whole face lit up and he dug around in his back pocket, dialing a quick number on his phone before putting it on speaker; it rang twice before connecting. “ ‘Sup, Finner Finner Chicken Dinner?”

Remus’ jaw dropped and Finn rested his forehead on the table. “Thanks for that,” he sighed. “We’re filming a video for Lion Pride right now.”

“Oh, sick!” the voice on the other end said. “Hey Lions!”

“Hi, Alex!” Marlene called.

“I just have a quick question,” Finn continued. “Have you ever heard of a drink called Suck, Bang, Blow?”

“Hell yeah, they’re super popular down here.”

“Called it!” Remus grinned and high-fived Finn. “Thanks, Hazard.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if anyone is going to have shitty alcohol, it’s you and your bouncy ice.”

“Hey—”

Finn ended the call and put his phone away once again with a gleeful smile. “He’s never going to hear the end of that.”

Drink 4: Amber Moon

“That’s a lot of whiskey,” James said as a crewman handed them their drinks; Sirius whistled lowly and held it up to the light.

“Why are there red flakes in it?”

“Tabasco sauce,” Marlene said off screen.

James nudged Sirius with his elbow. “I bet I can drink this is ten seconds.”

“Do it in five or you’re a coward.”

“You’re on.” He cleared his throat, then tipped the glass back.

“One, two, three, four, five, six!” Sirius pumped his fists in the air with a whoop.

“You counted too fast!” James protested, giving the camera crew a desperate look. “Marley, he counted way too fast!”

“Looks like…” There was a brief moment of silence. “Five point three four seconds, Pots.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, setting the glass down. “It tasted horrible, by the way.”

The video cut to Remus and Finn, who were eyeing the drink suspiciously. “I’ll bite,” Remus said. “What’s the sexy name for a hot sauce and whiskey monstrosity?”

“Amber Moon.”

“That would be my stripper name,” the two said in unison, then turned to each other with identical gasps.

Drink 5: Blowjob Shot

Sirius looked deeply uncomfortable as he set the shot glass on his lap. “Don’t make this weird.”

“What? The part where I’m putting my face in your lap?” James asked with false innocence as a smile spread over his face.

“Merde,” Sirius muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just get it over with.”

“That’s a rude thing to say to someone who’s about to give you a blowjob.”

“You’re not giving me a blowjob.”

James raised his eyebrows and Sirius rolled his eyes, kicking him lightly. “Alright, alright. Do you want to go first?”

Sirius leaned forward, paused halfway down, then cursed under his breath and took the shot glass between his lips, knocking it back in a quick motion. James opened his mouth and the first bit of a fake moan slipped through before Sirius tackled him to the ground.

The video cut for a moment—when it returned, they were sitting in their chairs once again, and James looked incredibly smug as he rested his elbows on his thighs. “Ready, hot stuff?”

“You’re the worst person to have as a best friend.”

James didn’t hesitate before wrapping his mouth around the rim of the glass, then made a noise of panic when it didn’t go down his throat right away. His eyes went wide and he cupped his hand under his face, slapping Sirius’ knee with the other.

“Are you okay?” Sirius laughed. “Just—just knock it back, buddy, you can do it.”

James made a muffled sound and the camera crew started snickering off screen as the whipped cream smudged over his nose.

“His eyes are watering,” Sirius cackled. “Oh, this is karma in action. Is it too much? Spitters are quitters, Pots, you can—"

James glared at him, then choked slightly and spat the shot glass and all its contents onto Sirius’ chest. Dead silence fell over the studio, broken only by the steady drip of the liqueur on the paper below their table.

“Does anyone have a napkin?” Sirius asked after a moment, shaking his hands out.

“I am…so sorry,” James said as he wiped his lower lip.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know! It was doomed from the outset, I guess.” He wrinkled his nose. “I can feel it in my sinuses.”

Remus and Finn both downed their shots easily; neither struggled for more than half a second. They were both a little flushed from the alcohol and Finn hiccupped as they turned back to the camera.

“How did you do that so well?” Marlene asked, clearly amused.

“Frat,” Finn said at the same time Remus shrugged and said, “college.”

“Pots spat his all over Sirius.”

“It’s because he’s straight.” Finn hiccupped again and Remus burst out laughing.

Drink 6: Body Shot

“Who are we doing this off of?” James asked. All four men sat at the same table; Sirius had removed his flannel and James’ cheeks were pink from five—well, four and a half—drinks.

“Guess who, bitches!” Kasey grinned as he walked out from behind the backdrop, clad only in his Lions sweatpants. James, Finn, and Remus cheered while Sirius put his head in his hands. “Shit, Cap, you’re doing wonders for my self-esteem.”

“Is this a power imbalance?”

“I’m older than you, now move your elbows so I can lay down.”

The folding table creaked as Kasey laid on his back and all five of them froze for a second until Marlene emerged with salt, lime slices, and a bottle of clear alcohol under her arm. “Do you know how this works?”

Four nods answered her and she carefully poured the tequila into Kasey’s bellybutton—he jolted at the cold and some of it spilled down his sides. “Aw, man, now my pants are damp.”

“Where—” Remus cut himself off with a laugh as he took the salt. “Where do you want us to salt you, Bliz?”

“Wherever your heart desires.” They passed the container down the line, each sprinkling a pinch somewhere on Kasey’s bare chest. “Ready?”

Finn wrinkled his nose as he licked the salt, sipped some tequila, and quickly put the lime wedge in his mouth with a distressed sound. Remus was next, and he barely skimmed his mouth over Kasey’s belly button before shoving the lime between his teeth; James missed his mark completely because Kasey was still laughing, and Sirius got some of it up his nose on accident.

“You guys suck at this,” Kasey managed as he sat up, brushing the leftover salt off his front. “Jesus Christ, have any of you been to a party in your lives?”

All four exploded into indignant protesting and the video transitioned to a final slide. “Thanks for joking us today, Lions!” Marlene said in a voiceover. “Make sure to like and subscribe for more content.”

[nerdynachodaze]

Naima's thoughts on "Corrupt" By Penelope Douglas (minor spoilers ahead!)

(1) The Plot - (8/10)

Erika Fane has always been in love with her ex-boyfriend's older brother Michael Crist but he's ignored her for years. Now he's back and he has secret plans for her along with his three best friends who were thrown in jail because of her.

This book wasn't what I expected and I mean that in a good and bad way, I started reading cause if the romance but ironically that was one thing I didn't like about this book, but I kept reading and enjoyed it because of everything else, the Horsemen, rika's growth, michael and rika's backstory, the mystery of what happend three yeas ago, it was all so interesting and batshit crazy from start to finish!

(2) The Characters - (9/10)

Erika - Bad ass bitch, but has terrible taste in men.

Michael - Great character, HORRENDOUS boyfriend. I wish the book was written solely from his perspective cause his dynamic with the Horsemen and his backstory were my favorite parts of the book.

Kai - problematic king 💖💖💖 he's so sweet but so fucked up I love it 😁

Will - he made me laugh and I like how he's less sadistic than Damon but still pretty fucked up.

Damon - basically satan but I kinda love him for it lol

Alex - A good friend to Rika and an interesting character all on her own.

Trevor - needs to die in a fire.

(3) The Romance - (- 80/10)

RIKA STAND TF UP. She and Michael are THEEEEEE worst couple I have ever read in any novel lmaoooo like....good God Michael treats her like dog shit and she is just endlessly horny for him while the whole time HE PLOTTING HER DAMN KIDNAPPING 😭 Though i like Michael, he is a massive hypocrite always telling Erika "STAND UP FOR YOURSELF! DON'T BE A VICTIM!" but also being EXTREMELY controlling over her. I'm also verrrry uncomfortable at how she is so obedient to a man who treats her like shit. Her character arc is her learning how to stand up for herself but then she'll drop on her knees in a split second cause Michael told her to??? The book tries to make it look like she's making her her choice but BABY GIRL choosing to obey a trash boyfriend is not empowering it means you have no respect for yourself 😭

I honestly wished she chosed Kai, but the next book is about him and another girl so 💔

(4) The smut - (2/10)

*sigh* this is a rough one cause the smut is rather cringey and I CANNOT UNDERESTIMATE HOW AWFUL THE MAIN COUPLE IS their sex scenes aren't bad but when Michael and Rika are thinking horny thoughts about each other I bust out laughing lmao.

Overall, the plot is insane in a great way ;), the characters are great, but the romance made me want to puke 😁

⭐️6/10⭐️

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Nine

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, angst, foul language, mentions of war, military technicalities

A/N: I had been struggling to write this chapter for so long, being at a loss of words, even if I have the entire plot figured out. But a quick chat with @agniavateira​ finally gave me a boost. So thank you honey. And obviously a huge thank you to my favorite, my girl, @thelastsock​ for patiently beta-reading it. I am forever grateful to you, sweety.

Also, it is kind of like a filler chapter really, but everyone is at Camp Warhorse and the temperatures are soaring high!

<Chapter Eight

Title: Chapter Nine

Liv could feel her heart race and her pulse echo in her ears. Her hands were beginning to sweat inside the gloves, and she knew for a fact it wasn’t because of the summer heat that had descended upon the arid desert of Iraq. She glanced at Sloan who puffed her cheeks before taking quick steps backwards and running back to where she came from.

Taking a deep ragged breath, Liv slung her gun over her shoulder and removed her helmet, holding it in the crook of her arm as she walked towards the two men. Alex looked completely different than the last time she had spent time with him. He had his sunglasses on, camouflage cap perched on his head and his jaw covered with a clean cut beard. Even with the uncharacteristic facial hair Alex had going on, he walked with the arrogance of the decorated military officer that he was. Next to him, Sy looked rugged and even though he was in his military sanctioned t-shirt and camo pants, there was a distinguishing difference between the two Captains.

“Sergeant Ross.” Alex called out, taking off his sunglasses. He smiled at her staying put in his spot but scrutinized her with a glance from head to toe. Putting his hands behind his back, Alex stood straight, exuding the kind of dominance he always did in public. “Captain Syverson was telling me about how great a help your unit has been around here.”

Liv felt her mouth go dry as she looked at a grinning Sy with his hands placed low on his hips. He was looking at her proudly, puffing out his chest just a little bit. But Liv couldn’t bask in his admiration because the thought of the two men discussing about her made her stomach twist with nervousness.

“Sy is too kind.”

She did not miss the surprise in Alex’s eyes when the words left her mouth. She felt the anxious sweat return, beads of sweat trickling down her back now. Awkwardly adjusting her gun strap over her shoulder, she waited until either of them spoke.

“Sy?” Alex asked, crossing his arms over his chest. His stance showed how he was not in approval of a junior rank calling a senior officer informally. Liv was beginning to remember why she felt smothered around Alex, it was his overly decorous and overbearing nature that had made her realize she could never be with a person like him.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the three of them. Liv noted how her unit members working on carrying the ammunition from the Humvees were throwing glances their way. It was humiliating for her to be meeting both of her partners out in the open, in front of everyone where she couldn’t hide the uneasiness.

“They call me that.” Sy intervened and Liv couldn’t have been more thankful. His grin had disappeared though, replaced with a tight-lipped gritting of his teeth. She could see the muscle in his jaw clenching and his eyes boring into hers. Without glancing at the man standing next to him, Sy took a step forward. Liv’s heart thumped against her chest as she expected Sy to do something to assert his claim on her but let out a sigh of relief as he only reached inside his pocket and pulled out her chain.

She was immensely relieved when Sy only whispered, “You forgot this.” Before handing her the chain in her palm. She nodded at him while smiling weakly. He seemed to be observing her too, looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes. Clearing his throat, Alex pulled their attention towards him. Liv quickly pocketed the chain, careful to not let Alex see it and looked at the newly arrived captain.

“Can I speak to you in private, Sergeant?” He asked, uncrossing his arms and putting his hands inside his pockets. He waited until she replied, glancing at her and Sy before turning around and walking towards the housing building.

Liv almost did not want to follow him. She wanted to stay there with Sy, maybe take him to the roof and go back to the time when they sat there drinking chai. Balling her hands into fists at the unfavorable circumstances she had been thrown into, Liv only touched Sy on his arm before walking towards the man who was the worst mistake of her life.

Placing her gun on the floor to rest against the wall, Liv started to search for Alex when she felt her body being turned around and slammed against the wall. Air left her lungs at the force and her senses went on high alert, her hands ready to get a hold of the person’s neck when she noticed who it was. Alex had pressed his entire body against hers, every contour of her frame touching his.

“Alex,” his name barely left her lips before she was rendered speechless as his lips came down on hers. Grabbing at her hair and winding his arm around her waist, Alex deepened the kiss with his lips parting and his tongue darting inside her mouth. She was aware of the empty corridor with footsteps sounding only a few feet away, but the familiarity of his body against her, the taste of his lips and the tight grasp of his hand in her hair made her close her eyes. She relaxed in his arms, letting him ravage her mouth. Her eyes snapped open, her hand had slid into his hair but instead of the buzzcut she'd come to love, she felt soft length between her fingers.

Disgusted with herself and her wrongdoing, Liv turned her face to the side. Bringing her hands to his chest, she pushed Alex away, panting to catch her breath. Alex staggered backwards and hurt instantly flashed in his green orbs, making its way to her own heart. She couldn’t meet his eyes for the last time she had tried to break things off, her guilt had caught up to her and she couldn’t do it.

“Liv,” Alex whispered, beginning to take a step forward when two heavy footsteps came running their way. Looking towards the open doorway, Liv spotted two of her men running towards them.

“A team was attacked, they just arrived. Captain Syverson told me to get you both to his office.”

Quickly nodding at her men, Liv picked up her gun from the floor. She adjusted her fatigues, her cheeks heating under Alex’s gaze. She needed to address their situation, but it had to wait. She looked over her shoulder at him and felt remorse creeping its way into her gut again as he stared at her appalled.

***

Sy stood at the entrance of the building with the cup of coffee in his hand. He sipped the steaming liquid as he scanned the compound as several units prepared to leave for their patrols around the village. They had increased the security around the camp since last week’s attack on their men. Luckily, no one was severely injured, but it had been a huge blow for Liv’s confidence.

Sy had watched as she had entered his office fuming with anger. He had anticipated she would be upset since the person at the head of the attacking group of militants was the insider, she'd believed was on their side. He had tried to assure her no one held her accountable for the attack, but he knew her plenty by now. He knew she would berate herself about it and go back into her shell of self-loathing.

And she had done exactly that.

Sy licked his lips, gulping down the bitter shot of caffeine as he spotted Liv with her unit. She was helping her corporal load up the box of ammunition and instructing them. He admired her dedication to her work immensely, but on the other hand he also wanted her to just let herself go once in a while.

His eyes narrowed as he observed Alex making his way towards her. He had decided from the very moment he met the captain, that he did not like him. Sy had read about him; born and brought up in a family of army officers, gone to private school and having arrogant pricks as his relatives, Alex was the kind of army man Sy despised. He had noticed the way Alex tried to ascertain control over Liv or his subordinates, very subtly hinting at things that he wanted to happen his way.

But those weren’t the only things that he disliked about the new Captain. Sy hated the fact that while Liv was maintaining her distance from him, she was spending an awful lot of time with Alex.

It wasn’t happening in an obvious kind of way, but since Sy could hardly ever keep his eyes off of the woman he loved, he would spot the two of them together up and around the compound. When they spoke, he noted how Liv’s body was stiff, but she spoke effortlessly. He would feel the muscles in his arms twitch when Alex would place his hand on her arm, and she would lean into his touch. He had gathered from a few of Alex’s men that Liv and Alex had been friends for a really long time.

Sy felt the bubbling of an emotion, which had no other word than being called jealousy, as he watched the two interact. He gripped his cup tightly as he watched Alex place his hand over her shoulder, a minute too long for Sy’s liking. He detested how Liv did not shrug away from Alex’s touch and every time Sy spotted them together like that, all he wanted to do was throw his arm around Liv and blatantly claim in front of everyone that she was his.

He took in a deep breath when Alex started walking towards him. Widening his stance and crossing his arms over his chest, Sy stood with confidence as the other captain made his way to him. He saw Liv looking at them from her place near the Humvees. They had a long eye contact with straight faces until Liv turned around to get inside the vehicle.

“Good day there Sy?” Alex stood next to him with his hands inside his pockets. Sy regarded him with a half-hearted smile before his eyes fell to the silver chain tangled up with the man's dog tags.

“That chain?” Sy pointed at the glinting medal laying on Alex’s chest. “That’s-”

“Saint Christopher. A gift from my mother to keep me safe.” He answered, his voice gruff from the early morning.

Sy narrowed his eyes, trying to study the make of the medal without being too obvious. He felt a pit in his belly as a realization dawned on him. “Liv has one too.” He meant to say it to himself, but unknowingly murmured the words out loud.

Alex chuckled, swiping his hand through his neatly combed hair. Squaring his shoulders and turning slightly to face Sy, Alex spoke. “I gave it to her. Don’t want anything to be happening to her.”

Sy felt his mouth go dry. He smiled at Alex but his mind was racing with all this new information. He couldn’t understand why when he already knew they were friends, Sy felt himself becoming irate. He couldn’t differentiate if he was angry about them being close or the sinking gut feeling he had that something was going on behind his back.

Sy couldn’t shrug the feeling off. All he could do the whole day was look at his watch and wait for anyone to come announce at his door that Liv was back to the camp.He had to talk to Liv about it, he needed the peace of mind. His thoughts were swirling about Liv and Alex, bordering on overthinking about every little detail about her life she had told him. He couldn’t concentrate on his work and he had stared at the piece of paper in his hand for far too long. Irritated at himself, Sy threw his cap on the table and rubbed his hand over his face.

He looked up when he felt a presence at the door and as if he conjured her, delight filled his chest as spotted Liv. Sy didn't waste any time in covering the short distance between them, pulling at her arm and closing the door in one swift move. Sy held her neck, tilting her face to capture her lips with his. He felt her melt in his arms, bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders while he nudged her lips open with the tip of his tongue. Their tongues danced, interrupted only as she moaned into the kiss, grasping at his t-shirt until the fabric was taut across his shoulders. Gasping for air, Sy parted from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’ve missed you.” He shakily professed, pecking the tip of her nose.

“I’ve missed you too, Sy.” She breathed out, smiling at him and rubbing the nape of his neck. “Listen, can you come to the roof tonight? I really need to talk to you.”

Sy felt an unknown dread envelop him. He knew those words never meant anything good. He looked her in the eye, trying to understand what she meant, but seeing nothing but silent pleas. Taking her lips in his one more time and he savoured every moment, before he let go of her.

And then she was gone, leaving his office feeling weirdly empty.

***

Liv chewed on her bottom lip as she looked out towards the vast expanse of the desert. There was a lot more chatter in the compound with the new people arriving. She waited for the lights to turn out, for midnight to roll in and finally meet Sy in their safe haven.

She had taken a week to realize what she felt for the man. Scared to address it, maybe she would have taken even longer if it weren’t for Alex. For when he had kissed her that day, she had finally realised the difference in her feelings. But she had remained quiet, distanced herself a little from Sy, to understand what she really wanted.

Liv felt a pleasant warmth in her chest about how much she loved the stupid captain she had stumbled upon in the desert.

Lost in her thoughts, smiling to herself as she thought about Sy, Liv did not notice the person standing behind her. The warmth of their breath caressed her neck as they leaned in and wound their arms around her body. Letting out a sigh, Liv felt herself leaning against the hardness of his chest, wrapping her arms over his and closing her eyes.

“Sy,” She whispered expecting to be turned around but instead she felt him go stiff. Her eyes flew open as their arms dropped from her waist and she noticed the faint smell of the cologne that she recognized belonged to someone who wasn’t Sy.

Turning around swiftly, Liv felt the blood drain from her face when she came face to face with an astounded Alex. He stared at her with knitted eyebrows, his mouth slightly open and his figure looming over her. She took a step back from him, feeling her heart race and her cheeks heat under his accusing glare.

“Did you just call me, Sy?” He said through gritted teeth. The veins in his neck strained as he took a step forward. “What is going on between you and Syverson?”

“Alex, what are you doing here?” Liv asked meekly, feeling miniscule in front of him.

“Answer me.” He demanded, his eyes blazing even under the faint glow of the moonlight. “Are you fucking him? Is that what you’ve been doing here?”

Liv’s feet touched the low wall as Alex made her cower away from him. Coming to stand extremely close to her, Alex towered over his Sergeant. She could see how his eyes bore into hers, anger flaming in his orbs. She felt herself jump when he caught a hold of her arms, gripping them tightly.

“Alex,” she pleaded, feeling the spasming pain as his infuriated grasp increased in pressure.

“You said you loved me.”

Tears were beginning to brim in her eyes under the pain. She had seen Alex angry before, but this was different. It felt like he was overtaken by a mad man as he clenched her tightly.

“You’re hurting me, Alex.” She couldn’t help but let out a whimper, pursing her lips to stop from crying out.

“You said you loved me.” He repeated again with fervor.

“I never said I loved you.” She spat out, trying to free herself from him. “I never loved you, Alex. I am not fucking Sy, I love him.” She wrapped her arms around herself as Alex let go of her. She rubbed the sore spots on her arms as she tried to breathe through her pain. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she sat down on the ledge, looking at Alex who stood stunned.

“I should have told you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She tried to apologize but Alex looked at her like they meant nothing but mere words.

Balling his hands into fists and gritting his teeth, Alex huffed angrily before turning on his heels and walking away. Liv grimaced when he pulled the worn-out door open, it rattled against the hinges and rebounded with a bang when he threw it open against the wall. This is what she had feared. Liv had not only intentionally hurt someone, but she had also lost a friend.

🌟 Series Masterlist 🌟

Chapter Ten>

[hms-chill]

“I got you a trophy, it’s only plastic, but it’s for being the best human I know.” for fluffy firstprince ❤️

It starts as a joke; the youth shelter needed prizes for a fundraiser talent show and the set of trophies came with one more than they need. Alex has a hard week coming up, so Henry takes it home with him, and when Alex gets home from his first day at a new internship, Henry is there with take out from Alex’s favorite restaurant. After they’ve eaten and Henry has heard about how much Alex likes the internship, Henry goes to get dinner and comes back with a trophy full of ice cream.

“I got you a trophy, it’s only plastic, but it’s for being the best human I know. I’m proud of you, and I’m so glad you like the internship.”

Alex laughs, pulling Henry in for a hug. 

Henry thinks that’s the end of it, but two days later, he’s finishing up an essay about queer history for Teen Vogue when Alex comes in to hug him from behind, setting the little trophy in front of him. 

“I got you a trophy. It’s for being the smartest, most amazing person I know.” 

 Henry laughs, finishing his last sentence before leaning back into Alex’s chest and letting him reach around to scroll back up, reading through the article before Henry sends it off. This is Henry’s favorite part of finishing an article, and the he sets the little trophy up on the edge of his desk with a smile, then relaxes back into Alex’s arms.

Alex’s first voter registration canvassing trip with the congresswoman he’s working for is that weekend, and he comes home drenched in sweat but grinning. Henry greets him with a trophy full of Mexican Coke. 

“I got you a trophy, for working so hard and getting so many people registered to vote. I know how much it mattered to you, and I’m so proud.”

Alex smiles, finishing the Coke before he pulls Henry in for a disgustingly sweaty hug. Henry wants to complain, but Alex is so happy he can’t bring himself to whine. David, who’d gone with Alex wearing a bandana supporting the congresswoman, is licking the sweat off Alex’s leg, and Henry bends down to rub his ears. The trophy takes up residence on Alex’s nightstand. 

It lives there until one morning, Henry needs to focus on writing after a long night, so Alex finds him as he’s making coffee in the kitchen. This wouldn’t be an issue, except that Alex finds him just as he’s pouring a dash of vinegar into it. His excuses that it’s what Victor Hugo did and that it takes the bitterness out of the coffee don’t have any effect on Alex’s indignation. He disappears shaking his head, then returns to plonk the plastic trophy down in front of Henry.

“I got you a trophy. It’s for making the worst, most offensive fucking coffee known to man. I’m personally offended by that cup of coffee. I hope you’re happy.”

Henry just laughs, drinking his non-bitter coffee before kissing Alex. Alex complains, whining that he can taste the horror coffee on Henry’s breath. Henry just laughs, taking the trophy with him as he goes up to the office to get started. 

He already has a plan for how he’ll get the trophy back to Alex. It will take some work, and probably some help from Nora, but he knows exactly the way to do it. 

They’re scheduled to go to the Lake House for a week soon, and Alex doesn’t notice when Henry slips the trophy into his suitcase. They fly down, and Alex doesn’t know what’s coming, but Henry does. He knows it will go well, but he’s still nervous. Asking Alex to marry him is hardly the same as making bad coffee or having a successful voter registration trip, after all. Alex wants to marry him; when Henry talked to Nora she told him that Alex wants to ask but doesn’t want to feel like he’s making Henry choose between getting married and staying a prince. So Henry’d bitten the bullet, and he’s looked into what it would mean to abdicate, and he knows he wants a big gay wedding in Westminster but once that’s done he’s ready to step down. He needs Parliament’s permission, but he doesn’t doubt he’ll get it, and Bea has promised to make sure whatever royal funds he would get go to the same charitable causes he’s already supporting. He’s ready, assuming Alex says yes.

It rains their first night at the Lake House, so they spend it inside, playing Mexican Train and other games Oscar bought for the house. But the next, it’s a clear night, so once the sun has fully set, Henry pulls Alex up and out to the pier. The first time they were here like this, Henry ran. He let his fear get the best of him, and instead of letting himself admit that a relationship with Alex was even remotely possible, he disappeared. Now, though, Alex’s hand is in his, and he’s not letting go. 

It’s still a bit cold to swim this late, so they kick off their shoes and let their feet dangle in the water, taking in the peace and quiet of this place.

“I got you something,” Henry says after a moment. Alex looks at him, and with his feet in the lake and the fireflies around his head, he looks like a nature spirit that five year old Henry would have pretended he didn’t have a crush on. “It’s a trophy. It’s for being the best person I know, and the best part of my life. It’s for being the person I love more than anyone, who saw me for everything I am and loved me anyway. It’s for being the love of my life and the person who makes everything better. It’s for being the person I want to spend my life with. It’s... there’s something inside, and it’s to ask you if you want to spend your life with me, too. I love you, and I want to scream it to the world in the loudest, most public, most permanent way I can imagine. I--”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely, yes. I love you so much.”

“I didn’t even ask yet,” Henry laughs, taking the ring Alex has pulled out of the trophy to hand him. 

“Sorry. I’ll... I’ll let you, but...”

“Alex Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, if I abdicate, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you; I-- if you what? You’d... you’d abdicate for me?”

Henry’s in the process of sliding the ring onto Alex’s finger, and he looks up. “I was planning on it. So you can run for congress and become the best politician this country has ever seen.”

Alex only waits until the ring is fully on his finger to pull Henry in for a kiss. 

The second they’re back to the house, Alex is admiring the ring in the light. It’s a simple band, gold, but there’s something familiar about it that he can’t quite place. 

“It... it was my dad’s wedding ring. When I told them I wanted to ask you to marry me, Bea and Philip and Mum all agreed that--” Alex cuts him off for the second time that night, this time with a kiss. Henry melts into it, feeling the last of his worries about the proposal fading away, leaving only the question of why he’d ever had them in the first place.

--

Fun fact; putting vinegar in his coffee is an actual thing Victor Hugo did! Cursed fact; it’s not bad!

Also, royal men apparently don’t traditionally wear wedding rings, but if there’s one couple before Alex and Henry to break with tradition to show off how in love they are, I feel like it’s Arthur and Catherine (especially because Arthur’s not originally a royal and might not even be fully aware that they’re breaking tradition). 

--

Requests are now closed, because it’s been a week and a half and I don’t know how y’all keep finding that prompt list but I’m tired. I’m glad you like my writing! I am! But also I have other things I should focus on, so they’re closed until I reblog another prompt list and don’t have to keep scrolling through all my old stuff to find it.

--

Want to support the Hannah Makes Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

[thrill-cfthechase]

feelin’ twenty-two

tw: pregnancy, death, alcoholism, verbal abuse, creepy men

november 4th was elliot’s least favorite day of the year. it was never a day of celebration in the chase household, instead a day of forced smiles and words left unspoken. it was her birthday, but it was never preceded by a ‘happy.’ it was a somber occasion, a day of mourning. when she was young the people in her neighborhood would get her a cake and little gifts to make up for the party that her father never threw, but she could tell they were behaving differently than they did on other kids’ birthdays. she was nearly four when she found out that her mother had died after giving birth to her, and while she didn’t understand death, she knew she had done something wrong. on her fourth birthday she threw a fit. it was a nasty tantrum that the chases and all of sunset park tried to forget, but elliot would always remember the first time she remembered thinking i want my mom.

she wasn’t sure how old she was when her father stopped acknowledging her birthday, but she could tell he knew what day it was because he was always even drunker and angrier than usual and able to find new and creative ways to get mad at her that didn’t involve the death of her mother. her brothers would take her out for ice cream and she would eat her mint chocolate chip in silence while they watched her, foreheads etched with concern. some years they saved up enough money to buy her a gift, but she would never play with it. she didn’t feel like it was deserved. on her seventh birthday her brothers took her mini-golfing and they let her win. it made her furious. they never took it easy on her ever, and the last thing she wanted was for them to coddle her. she just wanted it to be like every other day. that night she found her oldest brother, tucker, crying. he was fourteen and far too proud to let people see him cry, one of many traits of toxic masculinity that managed to make it’s way into elliot. she didn’t know what to do or how to comfort him so she said nothing and went to her room, staring at the cracks in the ceiling above her bed until the sun rose the next morning.

by her twelfth birthday tucker had moved out for college, and that year her other brother, forrest, had a soccer game in a town two hours away. she got a confetti cake from her next door neighbor, mrs. casey, and spent the evening doing homework in her room while she ignored the sound of her father yelling at the tv. elliot thought she was being sneaky when she tiptoed into the kitchen to get another slice of cake for dinner, that the tv would mask any noise she made despite the fact that the la-z boy her father sat at was only a few feet away from the fridge. when he turned to tell her to give him another beer she was so startled that she dropped her cake on the floor. as she sat on the cold tiles and cleaned up the mess she’d made the drumming of her heartbeat in her ears was almost loud enough to drown out the insults being thrown at her. when forrest got home that night he made a joke about elliot not saving him any cake. she told him to go fuck himself and he called her a bitch. she still hates funfetti.

the night of elliot’s sixteenth birthday was spent in a stolen dress at a hotel bar downtown with a man twice her age. she pretended to believe he wasn’t married and he pretended to believe she was twenty-one. they talked for a few hours, with elliot at her most charming and gracious in a way that people who really knew her would find laughable. she was still new to this type of con, the kind that required her to be a lady, but it worked, and she left with his watch, two credit cards, and four hundred in cash. she was gone by the time he realized anything was missing. when she got home her father seemed surprised to see her, like he hadn’t realized she wasn’t in her room all night. he had never seen elliot in makeup before, and the fact that he was now seeing it at two in the morning didn’t seem to sit right with him. “if your mother was here she’d be so disappointed in you. but she’s not here, is she?” it might have been the most tame thing he said to her, but felt like the cruelest by far. those were the words that echoed in her head as she lay awake in bed with gus, her fourteen year old dog, asleep on her chest. he weighed twenty-five pounds but the weight on her lungs didn’t bother her - the ability to breathe didn’t seem particularly important.

elliot’s twentieth birthday was a little over two months into her first year at gallagher. she didn’t intend on telling anyone, but it felt strange to be another year older in a place that still felt foreign to her. she confided in the two people she had grown to truly trust - ellie and kass. kass even baked her a cake, and something compelled elliot to give her a hug. she wasn’t usually physically affectionate, but no one had baked her a cake in years, and she couldn’t help feeling a little sentimental. as soon as kass left she had to scrape the “happy birthday” off the cake so that no one else could see it, but for the first time she could remember, she was a little glad it was her birthday.

~

elliot looked at her phone. november 4th, 2020, 12:01 a.m. the two hardest things for her to say were ‘i love you’ and ‘i’m sorry,’ but on this day she felt the need to say both to her brothers.

“hey, i know u don’t like it when i apologize on this day, but it’s my birthday and that’s what i want to say. i’m sorry u lost her. thanks for never telling me it was my fault. i love u,” she texted them.

it was only nine o’clock in seattle and she immediately got a text back from her oldest brother. “you’re going to dismiss everything i say, but i need you to know that i love you. raising you has made me the man i am today, which is cheesy but it’s true. it’s not fair to you that you had to deal with all of my mistakes, but i believe that learning from them is what will make me a good father. losing mom is probably the worst thing that ever happened to me, but getting you was the best.” a single tear fell down elliot’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away and buried her face in spruce’s fur. her phone buzzed again with another text from tucker. “well, mia is the best thing now, but you held the title for a long time. i love you smelliot.” she cracked a smile and sent back a quick “love u too fucker.” it took her a long time to fall asleep, although that wasn’t unusual for her, and she dreamed of memories that didn’t belong to her.

she didn’t have any expectations for her birthday, but she was pleasantly surprised. levi wished her a happy birthday, and she only vaguely remembered telling him accidentally while drunk and wasn’t sure if she’d mentioned how little she cared for the day, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it and for that she was grateful. she was surprised when rowan wished her a happy birthday - elliot didn’t feel deserving of her kindness, but it still felt good. she got her annual cake from kass, delicious as always, and she tried to not think about the fact that this time next year kass wouldn’t be there and she wouldn’t have a homemade cake to deface. she also got a cake from asher, who had made one for her last year as well when they were dating, and a cupcake from reese. it was a lot of baked goods to explain to people, but stuffing her face with cake helped elliot feel a little better. one thing about having roommates was that they tended to know things about you that you might not want them to know, but she wasn’t too worried about ella making a big deal of things. she definitely hadn’t anticipated receiving a hamburger with a lit birthday candle in it, and it both made her laugh and tasted delicious. she was laying on her bed doing homework when alex walked in, unannounced and uninvited (rude) and gave her not only a bag of hot cheetos but also a knife engraved with what according to alex was the state flower of california (the opposite of rude). she didn’t really know what to say to him other than the thing she had managed to say all day long: thank you. it wasn’t her favorite thing to say, she wasn’t known for being particularly courteous, but she meant it. she was thankful to know that the few people who knew about her birthday had bothered to tell her they cared. on most days elliot would think of course they care, i’m me, but this day made her feel small. luckily for her, she had friends who reminded her otherwise.

~

elliot looked at her phone. november 5th, 2020, 12:00 a.m. it was over, and she was relieved. she wasn’t quite sure if it had been a happy birthday, but it seemed like in the past few years it had become less and less of a sad one. she was lying in bed, spruce fast asleep and snoring under one arm. “i’m sorry,” she whispered to nothing and no one. perhaps she was saying it to herself. she put her phone down and curled up beside spruce. as she waited for sleep to come she thought of her mother, of the woman who had been described to her and the woman she’d imagined she was. elliot thought back to all the times her brothers had told her how excited their mother was for elliot to be born and the time her aunt told her she was sure her mother had loved her with all her heart, if only for a few minutes. she cried, silent tears that stung her eyes and stained her pillow. eventually she took a breath and got out of bed, deciding to take spruce for a midnight walk. the air was cool and still and the sky was clear. elliot sat down on the grass by the edge of the forest and looked up at the stars. she stayed there for quite some time, looking out into the darkness and trying to remember names of constellations. she saw a shooting star and smiled, wracking her brain for what to wish for.

just some good things would be nice.

when she finally crawled into bed, the tightness in her chest that always appeared on her birthday was gone, and for the first time in weeks she slept peacefully.

[raisedbyfandomwolves]

I have a prompt if it’s not too long! Supergirls phone gets stolen and CatCo post her text messages and they just can’t figure out who the 😏 (Mon-El) contact is. Thank you! -Cassie

Hi! Sorry this took so long and I’m not sure if this is what you envisioned when you sent me this prompt but I hope you like it!

--------

Kara's made mistakes; she knows it and she's not so proud that she won't admit it.

There have been big mistakes – thinking she can take on a rampaging Buroul without backup definitely counts – and little mistakes – picking up the wrong order and getting yelled at for it by Ms Grant for a whole hour – but no matter what, she's owned up to every last one of them.

This time though... This time, she really wishes she could just blame it all on someone else.

Maybe Alex. Alex had been the one who had given her the second phone in the first place, after all. “Consider it a necessary backup now that you have a second job,” her adoptive sister had said as she had handed over the device. “You never know when you'll need it.”

That moment had never really materialised and, minus checking the few DEO alerts that had gotten sent to it, Kara had ended up just using it when her own phone's battery was low or for random things like downloading games Winn had recommended trying.

And occasionally texting Mon-El.

It's a bad habit she shouldn't have allowed to take root, she realises in hindsight, but at the time it had seemed pretty harmless. She's a careful person, after all, and keeping track of two phones is a simple enough thing to do.

At least, that's what she had believed.

Right up until she had gotten into a huge brawl with a couple of alien mercenaries downtown and lost that phone somewhere between getting punched into a building and having a car tossed at her head.

Which in itself would've been fine if she had noticed and retrieved it before she had left.

Of course, she hadn't done that... and someone else had found it instead.

Someone who had managed to figure out that the phone belonged to Supergirl... and posted the texts all over the internet.

The internet had promptly and predictably imploded.

And now here she is, hiding from the rest of the world face down on her couch and alternating between cursing herself for her carelessness, trying not to die of embarrassment and wishing she had a combination of Winn's hacking skills and J'onn's telepathic powers just so she can destroy all the evidence and erase everyone's memories then pretend none of this ever happened. (Her one saving grace – whatever it's worth anyway – aside from the fact that she'd put a silly smiley instead of Mon-El's name and consequently protected his identity is that their texts had been more sweet and mushy instead of scandalous and inappropriate although some of his had definitely counted as suggestive in nature.)

In short, Kara is nothing less than a giant Kryptonian-shaped ball of shame and suffering at the moment.

The same, however, cannot be said for Mon-El, who had readily surrendered his own phone once they had realised it had been indirectly compromised and is now using her laptop to keep track of the madness with a gigantic grin on his face.

To say that he's the complete opposite of her and is actually enjoying this entire fiasco would be an understatement.

“'Supergirl's Superboyfriend?'!” he reads out yet another atrocious headline from some gossip website with the exuberance of a kid in a candy store. “Hey, maybe I should adopt that as my superhero name.”

“Absolutely not.” Her words come out muffled thanks to her current position so she forces herself to lift her head just enough that she can glower at him. “Again, no. It's mortifying. Don't you have any shame? And wouldn't you prefer to have a superhero name that's completely your own instead of one that's so... so... connected to me?”

“Daxamite,” he reminds her as he meets her almost lethal glare, his free hand pointing at his still grinning face that she very dearly wants to throw a pillow at right now. “As for your second question, I'd consider it an honour so I really wouldn't mind.”

“Well, it's mortifying for me then!” she growls, her cheeks burning so much she wonders if her face resembles a fire hydrant at the moment. “And I don't understand why you're so interested in all this! Didn't they have gossip back on Daxam?!”

“Nothing like this. I mean, everyone pretty much knew who everyone was sleeping with-” She cringes at that and turns a darker shade of red. “-so the gossip was more about other things like who'd gotten caught cheating at cards- Oh, CatCo's put out an article too!” he cuts himself off to announce the latest update, somehow managing to sound even more delighted than before. “And look, your boss even wrote it herself!”

A miserable groan escapes her and she buries her face in her couch again. Ms Grant had been beyond livid that someone had out-scooped her about Supergirl, never mind the fact that it had been the result of a complete accident, and Kara can only imagine what the woman has written much less planned next.

Luckily for her, Mon-El decides it's his duty to share the 'pertinent' details with her. “Wow, she managed to guess that I'm an alien too and there's even a photo of us although it's kind of blurry...” He laughs. “The comments are even better. They're saying I must be 'a real hunk' and 'totally ripped' among other things.”

Aghast, she raises her head again to stare at him, a confusing mixture of incredulity and possessiveness clouding her mind. “Why would they even be talking about that kind of thing?!”

“Well, you're Supergirl,” he replies with a faux sage-like voice although it's beyond obvious he's suppressing one hell of a smug grin. “It's only natural to assume you have excellent taste in men.”

She gurgles for over a minute, unable to vocalise a single coherent word due to being at a complete loss as to how to respond. Denying it feels wrong but agreeing is just unthinkable especially since he'll be obnoxiously self-satisfied about it until the end of time... and judging by the way he's now openly grinning at her, he knows it.

Stuck between two unpalatable choices, Kara opts to take a third option and drops her head back down again. Maybe if she gives it enough time, this will all just blow over and she can get on with her life like nothing had ever happened.

The laugh full of impish glee that bursts out of Mon-El just as she finishes that thought suggests she's not getting her wish anytime soon... and what he says next only confirms it in the worst possible way. “Hey Kara, guess what? Apparently it's called 'supersex' when we do it!”

...Screw this. National City can go find itself a new superhero; she's leaving Earth and never coming back.

(Eventually Winn is able to make it seem as if the texts had been part of someone's roleplaying account, whatever that's supposed to be, but it's still a good long while before Kara can bring herself to look any of her family and friends in the eye.)

[some-mad-lunge]

Interstellar Bitch

Because an Alex and Isobel friendship is on my must list for season 2.

**************

Alex had always leaned more towards having women as friends, that is after Kyle had disowned him before high school. Suddenly he was without a best friend in the shark infested waters that was public education.. Thankfully Maria, with her kind heart and Liz with her keen eyes that missed nothing, welcomed him with open arms. He wasn’t as free spirited or as studious as either of them, but it worked. He never thought of it as a cliche, it was just nice. 

He grew up in a house that suffocated him with male testosterone. No one wanted to listen to his ideas or hear his music. No one wanted to know him. Honestly, Alex thought his Dad would like him more if he just whipped out his dick and measured it, gave him something tangible to prove his son was a Manes man.

Maria and Liz (and Michael), they’d been the bright spots in this town. The escape from home and the loneliness, the white noise that cancelled out the voice in his head that made sure he knew he’d never be good enough.

He’d left them behind but he’d never forgotten. Emails and texts, you grow up and people fall away. Overseas he learned how to be friends with men, not needing to posture up, to prove he could give a punch and absorb a hit to be taken seriously. Still he missed his companionship with women. He missed the warmth of Maria’s hug, Liz’s sharp tongue that never failed to make him laugh. The way he used to feel understood, at least a little, for the first time in his life.

Coming home to them (and Michael), it was as if nothing had changed. A decade didn’t dull who they’d been to each other. Alex didn’t know if it was them, or this town, but they were connected. They were family.

Or they had been, but now there was a space between them, and he couldn’t get past it. He’d lost all three of the people he’d love most in one fell swoop. He vaguely wondered if there was something poetic in that. He’d run away to learn to be himself and lost the people who accepted him wholly for who he was in the process.

Maybe it would be easier if there had been some big scene, angry words and spilled drinks. Instead it was Michael and Maria holding hands, Liz begging him with her eyes not to make her choose. That in itself was a choice wasn’t it?

He’d made his own choice a decade ago and they had made theirs a little over three weeks ago. One thing Alex had to learn quickly was how to drink alone. To be fair he was getting pretty good at it, practice makes perfect. He had Kyle back, sort of, but there was still the bravado Alex felt he needed around his old friend. Maybe they’d buried the hatchet but scars run deep, and habits can be hard to break.

He’d planned his Saturday sitting on his porch, drinking some beer and wallowing in his own self pity. It was the only reason he was buying alcohol at 10am, most of the town still asleep or avoiding the heat. The last person he expected to run into, sunglasses hiding her face and two bottles of red tucked under her arm was Isobel. 

He couldn’t really remember ever having a conversation with her. He knew how much she meant to Michael, but did she know what Michael had meant to Alex? It was better not to think about it. Instead he nodded her way and attempted to side step around her in the aisle. It appeared she had other plans.

“You look more pathetic than I feel, and that’s saying something.” It stopped him in his tracks, had him turning slowly to take her in. She slid her large glasses up onto her forehead, her eyes were red but there wasn’t a hint of sadness in them. No, he saw what could only be described as understanding, maybe even fellowship and a hint of something else. Something he recognized.

Barely contained rage.

He didn’t know how to respond to that. She was a hard one to read, perfect facade that had all come crashing down. He didn’t feel like his pain could even hold a candle to hers. Maybe she’d been an uppity bitch back in high school, head held high to balance her prom queen crown but she wasn’t that person anymore. No one deserved what Noah has done to her, he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

It was painful enough losing someone’s love, but learning you never had it to begin with? That was anguish.

He turned away and went to the cooler, hoisting the case of beer under his arm. He also snagged a bottle of tequila as he headed to the register. He didn’t see Isobel anywhere, hoped she found whatever she was looking for at the bottom of her bottle. Alex had yet to find answers in the bottom of his.

Instead he found her leaning against his Jeep, bags on the ground at her feet. She had her hips pushed out, braced for a fight. Alex, meanwhile, wasn't looking for one.

“I need a ride home.” It wasn’t a request but a command, and last Alex checked she wasn’t his superior officer, even if she had a sneer like one.

“And that’s your vehicle located northwest, you know, across the street.” It was early so there was no limit to his stride as he made his way closer.

He watched Isobel’s veneer slip, the swagger that was so much like Michael it made him ache disappeared.

“He bought it for me, I just realized. Anniversary gift. I never want to drive it again.” She said it like that was a good enough answer and for Alex it sure as hell was. Instead he jerked his head as he pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked his passenger door and opened it for her. He was still a gentleman, and he wasn’t above simple kindness.

She climbed in, but put a hand on his arm.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Alex almost laughed.

“Neither do I.”

She nodded her understanding, they both had some broken hearts beating simply to pump the anger through their veins. Analyzing that fact wasn’t going to change it. Instead he shut her door with a click and made his way around to his own side.

They drove in relative silence, every corner causing the bottles at Isobel’s feet to clank and rattle. He knew where she lived, Isobel had been made for suburbia, even if she was from another planet altogether.

He pulled into her drive and shut off his car.

“Not going to lie, wasn’t sure how safely we’d get here, you being down a limb and all.” 

This time Alex did laugh, because Isobel didn’t wear kid gloves around him and dammit if he didn’t enjoy that. It was nice for someone to look at him with something other than pity.

“Come on. We’ll be less pathetic if we get wasted together.”

The inside of her house was just as one would imagine, modern furniture, tasteful art and a large pile of men’s clothes heaped in the middle of the living room. Isobel flicked her hand at the mound as she headed for her kitchen, “Help yourself.”

Alex turned his nose up at the idea of cast offs from a serial killer and followed Isobel into the kitchen. He placed his bottle of tequila down on the counter. She handed him a corkscrew and he got to opening a bottle while she grabbed large wine glasses and a cutting board. He poured them each a glass as she cut up cheese and grabbed a package of crackers.

He blinked at her as she rolled her eyes, “We can be civilized about it.” She balanced the board on her hand as if she’d been serving patrons her entire life and grabbed her glass. Alex followed her again, wondered for a second if he would always be just two steps behind an alien when it came to living his life when she surprised him. She slid her patio door open and took a sip from glass. 

“After you.”

********

“What was it like?” 

“What was what like?”

“Seeing the world?”

“I was in Iraq and Afghanistan. I saw sand and death and children going hungry. Sorry I didn’t send any postcards.” Alex leaned forward to refill Isobel’s glass.

“Don’t be, Roswell has never been worth the postage.”

He touched his glass to hers in agreement.

**********

“Admit it, you like this song!” Isobel twirled as she shouted, pop music thumping so hard Alex should be annoyed. Instead he’s laughing as she swished her imaginary skirt, shooting him a come hither look. 

He just shakes his head and leans back, but he gives in eventually and sings along. Even holds out his hand and lets her grasp it as she dances around him.

*********

Letting an intoxicated Isobel paint his nails sparkly black was not Alex’s wisest decision. Then again, also not his worst.

“Hey, I’m doing a good job.” She sticks out her tongue as she steadies her hand and does one final stroke. “Ta-da!”

She blows on his fingertips, and passes him the bottle. “Now do mine!”

Naturally his work is better than hers.

*********

Alex isn’t sure how he ended up on the floor, but Isobel had tossed him some cushions and he’s shaded from the setting sun. He’s comfortable and relaxed, and holding a glass of tequila and ice to his forehead.

“I envied you in high school.” Isobel is using Alex’s good leg as a headrest. He can’t remember the last time someone was this close to him, happy being in his space, wanting to be there. Well he did, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

“Sure. Gay emo kid with an abusive father, what’s not to love?” There is no bitterness in his voice though, you can only be angry about the past for so long. Also his buzz is making everything easier to bear. “I wish I could have walked down the halls flipping my blonde hair.

“Fuck you. I didn’t walk, I strutted.”

*********

Somehow they’d ended up in the living room, each with a pair of scissors, cutting up Noah’s expensive suits. Alex wasn’t sure they should be using such sharp objects, but then again, he’d done a good job cutting out a star in a cashmere sweater.

“Should I feel bad that I could have donated these? I mean, there are people in need.” She sounded sincere but the swish of her scissor blades doesn’t stop. “But I don’t know if Tide gets out murderous alien germs.”

He hears her sniff and glances up, but her face is set hard. He lets her have that one.

“Or, we could burn the lot.” He likes the idea, is a little proud of it. 

Isobel’s smile is slow and menacing, “I have marshmallows.”

*********

His fingers are sticky and his stomach hurts from laughing as he watches Isobel try to lean out of her chair to grasp her drink. She’s going to fall and for some reason it’s ridiculous. The whole day has been.

She sits up and pouts.

“Come on, you have ET powers on your side. You got this, Evans.”

It takes a few minutes and her face gets flat and serious. Then the glass skitters across the pavement to bang against the leg of her chair. 

She picks it up with a flourish, all he can do is applaud.

********

“No, you have to shoot, use the A button!” Isobel is useless at this and he’s willing to sacrifice her to the cause. Leave no man behind doesn’t count when they’re this bad.

“Which one is A?”

“The one with an A on it! Dammit!” The screen goes red, they’re both dead. Alex drops his controller and drinks straight from the bottle. All sense of propriety went out the window around 2am, so he holds it her way so she can take a sip. 

She can handle her liquor better than most of the men he serves with. He’ll never tell her that though.

*********

“You know you could use your mind meld skills to get someone to bring us pizza.” The fact that Roswell doesn’t have a take out place open past 11:00pm is the greatest shame of the century.

“Or I could use my mind meld skills to get you to grab the Pop Tarts out the freezer.”

“You keep your Pop Tarts in the freezer?”

“You’ve never had a frozen Pop Tart?!” When he shakes his head she scrambles off the sofa, nearly trips over her own feet. “I am about to rock your world.”

It’s no blow job from Michael Guerin but it’s a close second.

********

Alex isn’t sure if it’s the pounding on the door or the pounding inside his head that wakes him up. He could do without both, and a healthy does of H20. He feels legs tangled with his own, knows they must have passed out head to toe on Isobel’s large sectional. He realizes he hadn’t removed his prosthetic and that is going to hurt later. Instead he wiggles his socked foot in Isobel’s face. It’s her house, he’s not answering the door.

Also if he gets up he just might die.

She squirms but it’s too little too late when the door bangs open and her brothers storm in with their girlfriends hot on their heels.

He hears Max’s huff and Maria’s laugh but they’re both drowned out by an unimpressed, “What the actual fuck?!”

Great. Michael’s here.

Isobel wraps her arms around Alex’s leg and snuggles into it. So it looks like she’s leaving him to deal with the Alien scout patrol.

“I repeat, what the fuck?”

Alex finally opens his eyes and is met with Michael’s hard and unimpressed stare. As if he has a commodity on messy hangovers or something. He kicks his foot again and Isobel huffs, but it’s enough to get her sitting up, hand pressed to her forehead.

She pushes Alex’s legs so he has no choice but to follow suit.

“You snore, Manes.”

“I know.” Michael says it before Alex can, the silence afterwards almost deafening. Max coughs as Alex shoots Isobel a look. It results in them bursting into giggles and leaning into each other on the sofa. To be fair, Alex's not sure how either of them are semi upright at this point anyway. No one else seems to get the joke.

“They’re okay guys, maybe we should let them sleep it off.” Liz is smiling but also glancing between Maria and Michael. There’s an issue there but it’s none of Alex’s business, just like he is none of there’s.

“You don’t answer our calls and Max finds your car deserted in town. We’re worried sick and you’re here passed out with him.” Michael isn’t letting this go and Alex almost stands up, squaring for a fight. Isobel puts a hand on his knee to stop him.

“It’s called a bender Michael, you of all people should understand that.” She attempts to rise and makes it halfway before she falls back, half in Alex’s lap. He catches her and rights her again. She pats the top of his head in thanks.

“Water?” Isobel is ignoring everyone else, Alex is keen on the idea.

“God, yes please.”

Alex leans back into the sofa and rubs at his temples. He can feel Michael’s frustrated gaze on him, even more so when Isobel hands him a cold bottle. He opens it, reaches out to tap it against hers and downs the whole thing in one go. 

No one is saying anything and Alex isn’t about to be the first. Last he checked he and Isobel were adults, but the eyes Liz is making at Max don’t seem to be doing the job.

“So, I’m alive, we’re alive. Any other questions or is the interrogation over?” Isobel seems revived by the water and the weight of Michael’s disapproving eyes. No one says anything. “Great.”

She leans down, grabs Alex’s hand to help haul him to his feet. Somehow his leg is working and he’s not limping. He’s starting to wonder if this is all a weird fever dream. Then Isobel tucks her arm into his and leads him to the door and past the army of interlopers.

“You owe me one.” It’s whispered as she presses her cheek to his in a mock kiss, like they’re high society and didn’t murder three bottles of wine and all the tequila that didn’t end up on the kitchen floor.

He thinks he might love her. Platonically but reverently, the twinkle in her eye leads him to believe he’s not alone in the feeling. 

“Until Saturday, ma’am.” He gives her a smile and a tiny salute, which became a thing last night, though for the life of him he can’t remember how.

“Of course, I’ll bring the limes and the hot sauce. Now run while you can.” She shoots him a wink and he makes his escape. The last thing he hears as the door shuts is Michael’s frustrated shout of, “What the hell is Saturday?”

Alex swings his keys around his finger and heads for his Jeep.

After a much needed shower and something greasy to settle his stomach he crawls into his own bed. As he lays there his phone beeps twice.

One is a message from an unknown number that says, “It's unfair this polish looks better on you than me.” He saves the number under the name Interstellar Bitch and makes a mental note to show Isobel later on. She’ll get a kick out of it.

The second is from Michael that’s four simple words, “We need to talk.”

He only replies to one, types out “It’s an emo thing.”

Then he presses his face into his pillow and laughs.

[writer-with-no-home]

Honey, I'm taking no orders (I'm gonna be nobody's soldier)

Chapter IV

Warnings: Graphic depictions of Violence, Mentions of Rape/Non-con

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3.5k

Story Summary:

Alex has never known her real parents. She doesn't want to. The men who raised her were cruel and treated her more like a weapon than a human, and she had barely come out alive. The scar tissue that litters almost every inch of her body, layer upon layer, is all the proof anyone needs. When she wakes to an owl with her Hogwarts letter and the subsequent revelation that she's Rosalie Potter, twin to the boy-who-lived, she begins one of the worst days of her life. Suddenly, the family she does not care for wants her back, the ministry is hell bent on making their wishes a reality, and she is suddenly the most interesting topic in the wizarding world. Alex isn't interested in playing happy family: she's bitter and angry and if years of torture have taught her anything, it's that there is always a way out. She has no interest in yielding to guilt-filled attempts to gain her trust, and quietly counts down the days till Hogwarts begins and she can stay away from anybody remotely associated with the Potter family. Caught between her desire for her old life and the ever looming presence of her biological family, Alex must navigate a world where magic doesn’t ease pain, and blood doesn’t guarantee trust.

Chapter Summary:

She can still remember the first time she wished for her mother, she can taste the copper on her tongue, can feel the blood dripping from her eyes, can feel every lash like it was yesterday, she can feel every muscle in her legs begging to give in, and the ghost of pain in her jaw that comes from holding in every scream or slight sound of pain.

a/n: Hi! This is a more normal length, enjoy the second part of the update! Comments are appreciated I'd like to know I'm not just posting to the void.

Chapter IV: Alexandria III

She had packed all of her belongings and moved them into one of Felix’s apartments by the time the ministry arrived again a few hours later just like she had expected them to. Patricia and Felix were waiting in the living room for them, and she could hear them sighing dejectedly once they heard a knock at the door.

Alex walked into the living room, surprised to see Kingsley there after she’d thrown a chair at him, but she was glad to see him look at her warily. He was joined by Amelia Bones, and even more surprisingly, there were no other aurors with the pair.

“Sorry about this, Alex,” Felix got up from the couch, looking at her softly, thankfully he was aware of her triggers and didn’t hug her, but he did ruffle her hair which was quite annoying. She wrinkled her nose as Pat laughed. “We’ll be here if you need us, okay, call us anytime.”

She nodded and Patricia intervened, this time she was subjected to a hug, but it was simply because Pat was a woman, and she didn’t trigger memories the same way Felix might have.

Alex sunk into the arms gladly, burying her face in Pat’s shoulder, Patricia was warm and comfortable and Alex was tempted to just throw the aurors out and stay but she knew the fight was futile unless she wanted to disappear off the face of the earth, which she did not.

Patricia kissed her head before stepping back, her hands on Alex’s arms, “if you ever need anything, you call us, got it? Make sure to give us a call when you get there. You know the number, right?”

Alex nodded, “yes, I know the number,” she said slightly exasperated and just then, Felix walked back into the living room with her things, frowning slightly.

“If you need money for anything, give me a call.” He said firmly, as Patricia stepped back.

“Are you coming to see us for your birthday?” Patricia asked softly and Alex sighed.

“Well, I still wanna keep my job, so I should be there next week. I'll try my best to see you for my birthday.” She answered softly, and Pat nodded. Alex took her things off Felix, trying not to let the anger consume her as she turned to face the aurors, a blank look on her face.

Both the aurors looked apologetic but Alex didn’t care, if they were doing this for work they should choose a different fucking job, what kind of psychopath takes a child away from her home?

“How are we travelling?” She asked flatly, not even bothering to mask her disdain.

“Apparition.” Amelia Bones answered, her voice sympathetic, only serving to further anger Alex. “Would you like me to hold some of your things?” Alex almost laughed then, she had a small suitcase and a backpack, why would she need help? She simply stared flatly, waiting for one of them to offer her an arm, Amelia Bones sighs, offering her arm up once again, and once again Alex takes it.

Apparition was more unpleasant now than it had ever been. She almost chuckled at the thought as it passed through her head, she had been apparated whilst her spine was showing and somehow this was worse. She felt nauseous and dizzy, she could feel her magic like static all across her body, begging for her to return back to safety, but she couldn’t. This time, she was stuck here for the next seven years.

She followed Bones and Shacklebolt silently, ignoring their looks of sympathy, and deciding to instead, look around at the house. From the outside, it was more a mansion than a house, with more rooms than she could bothered to count, there was a large, full scale, Quidditch pitch, and surrounding the vast land of the mansion was a blooming forest. 

The forest was gorgeous, trees towering over her, glowing with life, she rejoiced internally, at least something in this place was familiar. She would be spending hours in that forest, staying away from the hellscape that is bound to be her new home. She straightened her back further as they reached the door, preparing herself to remain quiet and nonchalant in the face of their desperation, or in Harry’s case, anger.

Kingsley knocked on the door, and Alex wanted to run as the sound reverberated in her ears, this was a nightmare, one she had to make her peace with. The door opened to reveal James Potter, he looked more relaxed, his robes were off and he was dressed casually, Alex noted that even his casual clothes were stitched with gold and more expensive than she could ever afford.

He smiled softly, moving to let the aurors in, Alex followed them quietly, ignoring his pleading gaze. She felt a sick kind of satisfaction in the way he backed away slightly like a wounded dog. He moved to stand beside his wife, his lips still turned down in a small frown. 

Alex stood beside Bones as she began to speak, “Mr and Mrs Potter, as Rosalie is now under your care, we suggest she see a mind healer,” Alex seethed as the woman pulled out a file and gave it to Lily Potter, how dare she talk about her as if she wasn’t there? Alex flexed her hand, trying to stop herself from digging her nails in so her palms bled. 

“Usually we’d have her see one beforehand to determine whether this was the best course, but in this case, we have obviously been told not to. The relevant contacts are in the folder, and you know how to contact me should you need any more details on this arrangement.” She wanted to laugh then, her anger dissipating at the guilt on her new guardian’s faces. I take it back, Bones, if that's what talking about me like I'm not there gets me, I'm willing to not throw you out the wall the next time you do it.

Alex ignored the information and pleasantries that followed, taking in the interior of the house instead: the house bled money, and Alex could feel the magic that ran through every brick keeping it upright, the walls were perfectly painted, there were no scuffs or scratches, not even on the roof, everything looked pristine.

The house looked lived in, with a book lingering on the counter, dishes left to dry by the sink, and the quite obvious unassigned assigned seats at the dining table. The kitchen counter was made of marble, the real kind, not the patterned fake stuff, and Alex wanted to scream again. They could have all this but they had chosen to throw her to the wolves? Or rather, the snakes. 

She turned her attention back to Amelia Bones as the woman looked at her carefully, searching for any signs of anger. Alex let the absolute fury she was feeling show in her eyes, letting herself revel in the anger, if only for a moment.

Amelia Bones swallowed nervously, “I am truly sorry for this.” The regret and guilt in her voice did nothing to soothe the burning anger that ran through Alex’s veins.

“And yet you did it,” she replied flatly, making sure the woman met her gaze, “you will have to live with the decision.” She kept her fury on the woman even as she shifted in discomfort, “and I will never forget it, that I can promise, Miss Bones.”

Her voice was cold, void of any kindness, and she did not regret a word even as the woman nodded dejectedly and left with her partner.

“Why don’t I show you to your room?” Alex turned her eyes to the woman who spoke, she had a mullet of blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and was a few inches shorter than James Potter: Marlene Mckinnon, her mind supplied and she ignored the woman entirely.

She walked past the crowd of them, heading through the hallway into the living room. She could hear footsteps scrambling to follow her, but she couldn't care less, her eyes falling upon an old couple in the loveseat by the fire. She ignored them, filing away the information whilst she searched for a phone, she clenched her jaw in annoyance when she didn’t find one, turning back to the couple.

“Is there a phone here?” She asked them, her voice neutral, the woman smiled at her, she didn’t look any older than forty but she was a witch, and so Alex knew her age was closer to sixty, and once she processed who exactly she was looking at, she knew the woman was sixty-three. 

Euphemia Potter, née Selwyn, was born on the sixth of May, 1928, her husband Fleamont Henry Potter, was born on the twenty-second of January, 1928. 

Her mind rattled off the information, like she was going to be tortured if she got a single thing wrong, or hesitated for a second too long, she still hadn’t gotten out of the habit. She tried not to focus on the memories of the last time she had repeated the names, focusing on the woman's answer.

“There are no phones here, the nearest phone is in a village about half an hour away, by walking that is,” her smile was soft, but Alex wasn’t convinced, the woman had stood by as she was put in an orphanage. “We can drive you, if you’d like.”

Alex shook her head, turning to the crowd that had formed behind her, “what do you need a phone for?” Lily Potter asked softly, her face was warm and welcoming but Alex could smell the fear coming off her, and the wariness in her posture made Alex want to laugh.

She chided herself internally, she was living with these people for the next eight years, they had complete control over her, she had to learn how to be slightly civil toward them. The scars littering her body burned in agreement.

“No reason,” she lied, she would just send a letter, owls would be much easier to find anyway, and the journey couldn’t be too far. 

She watched as Lily Potter’s face dropped at her answer, “why don’t we show you to your room?” Alex nodded hesitantly, and Lily Potter smiled once more. It was funny, Alex thought, how much she could make them feel all while doing very little.

She followed the woman quietly, her feet didn’t make a sound, her breathing light and even, her nonchalant mask perfectly in place. They walked up the stairs as Lily Potter began to speak, “the room is bare at the moment, but you can decorate it however you like, we can take you to buy decorations tomorrow if you like.” She turned her head slightly to shoot Alex a smile, and Alex wanted to scream with anger.

The entire house was gorgeous, there wasn’t a single decoration she could afford, everything was far too expensive for her, and Alex was hit with flashes of sleeping in trees and under bus stops and on forest floors. Lily Potter’s friends were walking beside her, Marlene Mckinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, both of whom were holding hands to her right, to her left was Emmeline Vance and Mary Macdonald. 

They stopped at a door, and Lily Potter opened it hesitantly, Alex walked in behind her, marvelling at the size of the room, the bed alone was bigger than her entire room back home. “The room is not the biggest, but it is closer to us, if you want a different room all you have to do is let us know.”

Alex turned to look at Lily Potter, who was shifting nervously, she swallowed the bitter laughter that threatened to leave her. Not the biggest? The bed was bigger than her entire room. The room itself was probably more than half the size of her apartment.

The walls were a dark red, highlights of gold painted all around them, Alex wanted to laugh, she wasn’t sure she’d get into Gryffindor, but she’d throw herself out the window if she ended up in Slytherin. She stopped herself from darting her eyes about the room once she realised Lily Potter was watching her carefully, looking for a reaction, she nodded in thanks, not saying a word and Lily Potter beamed.

Alex placed her bag down on the bed, placing the suitcase down next to it. She turned back to face the women with a sharp gaze, “what exactly do you want from me?”

Lily Potter flinched at her tone, “we just want to be your family,” her voice was soft, desperation laced throughout and Alex chuckled bitterly.

“I had a family! You had no right to take me away from them because you dropped me off at an orphanage when you had no reason to.” She hadn’t raised her voice at all, but the anger was clear as day, a storm brewing with every word she spoke.

“You could have not wanted children, but you kept my twin brother, you could have had only enough money to sustain one child, but you’re filthy rich, I mean, for fuck’s sake this room is half the size of my apartment! This place is a fucking mansion, and I can’t think of any more reasons, so why don’t you give me yours.”

She was burning with anger by the time she was done, even as her face remained calm and passive, her voice not rising by an octave, even as she felt like she had been dipped in acid on the inside, a bitterness crawling around like a beast, blood dripping from its teeth.

“Rosalie,” Alex laughs harshly, standing up, the beast claws at her insides, tearing its way out.

“You didn’t even bother to fucking name me when you dropped me off, and you think you have a right to do it now? To change the name I’ve been going by my entire life, all because you couldn’t be bothered ten years ago?” Her anger is a wildfire, burning through everything in its wake, but for the first time in her life, Alex can’t bring herself to regret the ash that trails behind every word, for it’s finally aimed at the people who deserve it.

Lily Potter’s face twists in anguish with every word, tears forming tracks on her cheeks, Alex doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse: she knows she should, knows that this woman went through arduous labour to give her life and there should be a certain amount of respect she holds for her, but when she searches for it, all she finds is an emptiness.

She can still remember the first time she wished for her mother, she can taste the copper on her tongue, can feel the blood dripping from her eyes, can feel every lash like it was yesterday, she can feel every muscle in her legs begging to give in, and the ghost of pain in her jaw that comes from holding in every scream or slight sound of pain. She remembers wishing for some comfort, wishing for a mother that had failed her long ago, but she craved the comfort she’d only seen in others up until then.

She looks at the weeping woman in front of her now and she doesn’t feel anything of the sort: anger, sadness, and helplessness. A seven year old version of her is crying somewhere, begging for answers, but she only feels disgust now. Her mother, the woman who left her at an orphanage, had just torn her away from her family, the only one she’d ever known, all because she suddenly wanted her child back, or maybe it truly was just so that the public didn’t paint her out to be a villain. She had kept Harry after all, maybe she had known he was going to be famous, maybe she simply didn’t want the child that was expendable in the middle of the war.

Alex’s lips twitched at the thought, and how expendable she had become, images of ripping apart werewolves with her bare hands flashed through her mind, the piles upon piles of dead bodies she was responsible for, the vampires, werewolves, humans. She knew more spells than most grown adults and she didn’t need a wand to cast any of them: if she was expendable, then they may as well prepare Harry’s grave now.

“What name do you go by?” Marlene Mckinnon asked, pulling Lily Potter into a side hug, her eyes were filled with sympathy, her voice thick, and Alex could see how conflicted she was even as she stood, unwavering in her support.

Alex chuckled, her eyes burning with anger, she could feel the magic crackling, wanting to lash out against whatever opponent she was facing this time, but she knew there was no use, she was stuck here for the next seven years.

“Stick to Rosalie and get out.” Her voice was empty, her eye lingered on the way the womans face fell at her words but her eye was hurting, she’d forgotten the pain would return with the loss of the illusions, but with the pain steadily becoming more prominent, her patience for this farce was waning and her anger was rising.

Marlene nodded, and they left, too slowly for Alex’s tastes, she flexed her hand to resist hitting something as they finally left, the door shutting with a click behind them. She walked over to the door and locked it, leaning her head on the cool wood, the cold soothed her building migraine for a moment, before she huffed, pulling back. 

She dragged her blade out of its sheath, and winced as her magic protested, but ignored it nonetheless, carving the rune into her skin over the only just scabbed over cut, she ought to stitch it this time, she thought, letting the mark burn into her skin before digging through her backpack and finding a small, wooden box. 

She dragged it out, letting the blood from her arm drip onto the box: it spread across the wood, burning a pattern in its wake and opening the box, it dropped flat onto the bed, revealing an abundance of medical supplies, amongst them a thread and various needles: she had never bothered to buy herself a suture kit, and stealing one wasn’t worth the time or energy it required, so she stuck to a needle and thread. She made sure to sterilise the wound, of course, she didn’t want to die of sepsis of all things.

The burning in her arm ended eventually, and Alex raised her fingers to feel for a scar she knew wouldn’t be there anymore, she winced as her magic flared in anger once her fingers touched smooth skin. She opened her right eye carefully, hoping the rune had been carved accurately, she’d never taken that one off and so she’d never had to recarve it.

She sighed in relief when she opened her right eye to a clear view of the world, she couldn’t see the strands of magic tying everything together anymore, and the migraine that had formed immediately felt better. She sighed at the realisation it wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, she waved her hand and her things settled in a corner of the room, she didn’t bother unpacking, she didn’t plan on staying here long. 

There are always loopholes, in magic, and its law, weapon. The voice echoed in her head and she felt the faint taste of bile in her mouth as the memory played out. The memory was horrific but she had learnt the lesson well, and she wasn’t going to forget it any time soon: there was always a way out. She just had to find it, and get out of her personal hell.

For now, however, she was exhausted and she would love some sleep, her eyes landed on the king sized bed in the middle of her room, she flexed her hand in annoyance. She couldn’t sleep on the bed, but she had thought of that in advance, knowing these idiots would have no idea what exactly she had been through.

She felt a sense of longing, she missed her quiet apartment, where everything was how she liked it, and she missed Felix and Pat, both of them knew how she liked things, and her room in Felix’s house was comfortable, it was the closest she had come to feeling safe somewhere, and then these motherfuckers ruined it.

She huffed, taking clothes out of her bag, and quickly getting changed before setting up her makeshift bed, she took out a light duvet and a blanket, along with some pillows, carefully laying the blanket down first: she hated the feel of a mattress, it was too soft, it felt as though she was sinking, like she was going to drown.

Alexandria stared at the ceiling for hours before her exhaustion finally won out and she lost herself to sleep. She woke up as soon as the first sliver of light shone on the horizon, feeling as though she’d never fallen asleep at all.

Ao3 link here

[blackrosesfanfic]

Chapter 228

Alex

"Aye, so where did you sleep?" Hidia asks me loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Bitch, don't." I whisper.

She giggles still talking loud. "What?"

"With your man?" Chris asks. "Aye, where Jamaal?"

"Getting his daughter ready. Same fucking place he was last night. With his daughter." I roll my neck. "Auntie Debra got two beds in her room nosey-ness."

Hidia laughs. "Cockblocking from all directions. Where this daughter at? That's why you not feeling Mr. Workman."

I look at Marco sitting next to her. "Oh he just Mr. Workman now?"

"What was he before?" Marco says after seeing me look at him.

"Don't even try it." She says to him putting her hand in his face. "Know your stupid ass can't argue worth a damn."

Chris leans forward on the table. "Well got damn Hiya. I thought you were nice."

"Okay." I laugh.

"I am nice." Her bipolar ass says happily. "I just don't take that shit. You not bout to make me look like I'm fucking cheating when I'm faithful and I know it."

Jamaal sits down at the table looking back. "I thought Lexi would be out of place with a bunch of babies."

"Naw, Hiya got a 5 year old and Leah daughter about... older than 6." Chris says.

"Well she ain't gonna get shit out of my son." Hidia says looking back at him.

I sit up looking at him. "He still won't talk to yall?"

"Hell no." Hidia says. "Marco ass says its cause I talk too damn much."

Marco turns his head towards her making his dreads fall all in his face. He was a light skin mixed fine motherfucker. His mother was Honduran and his father black. He like 6ft and all muscles with a face full of hair. He is fucking worst than Trey when it comes to fucking Hidia. That's why I did that. She complains about it all the time. It's funny how the fine ass motherfuckers can't believe they can keep a woman. So insecure.

"You play ball, Marco?" Chris asks.

"Soccer."

Chris makes a face. "No thank you."

I take the whole plate of egg muffin things. Can't think of the name of them but gosh they taste good as hell. I make a face at them.

"What are these?" I snap.

"Vegan frittata." Chris says reaching across the table and snatching the plate before I could think about it. "For vegans."

I suck my teeth. "Christopher..."

He laughs wickedly. "You don't know me, man."

"Vegans don't eat eggs." I look at Jamaal. He looks my way. He always looking at me. I smirk at Chris then whisper. "Take em back."

"What?" Chris scrunches up his face.

Jamaal takes the Frittatas handing them across the table to me. Chris laughs really hard and starts talking shit to Jamaal. I look at Hidia then stand up.

"Bitch." I say to her.

"Damn." She says covering her mouth. She swallows her food. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I grab the frittatas and walk away. I only assume she is following me. I go into my room and sit the plate on the bed.

"You okay?" Jamaal asks.

"I'm fine." I snap.

Hidia walks in the room eating her waffle. "I go walking away from the table and Marco's ass sticks his fork in my plate. No. We not sharing shit all that food being supplied on someone else's budget. Now I see if we... Jamaal. We really don't need you, boo."

"Damn, I just wanted..."

"I know, I know. All you men think you matter. Take your butt and your cute outfit back to the table."

"I do have him looking good, right?" I say stuffing a frittata in my mouth.

Jamaal sighs walking out. "Aight."

Hidia waves at him then leans on the dresser. "So what you need a tampon, pad, condom... i don't use those tacky ass cups but the store has them."

"Cups?"

"Yeah, you squeeze em and slide them up in your vagina..."

"Umm..." Amber says making a face and kinda closing the door. "Yeah maybe you got it under control."

Hidia laughs. "You one of us. Coochies shouldn't make you uncomfortable, bae."

"The uncomfortable part is having to describe some shit that you squeezing... I don't wanna know if we finding out after 25."

"Oh just come in. I'm talking about those... anyway. Girl, what you need?"

I roll my eyes. "A pregnancy test."

Hidia sucks her teeth. "Oh you fucking lying."

"I got one." Amber says walking out.

"Wait." I say but she had already closed the door.

"What the fuck going on?" Hidia says standing up straight. "Bitch."

I wave my hand. "Don't say nothing."

Amber comes back in the room. "Sorry I got carried away."

"Did you?" Hidia snaps when Amber drops a bag on the table.

"I was like buying these for charity." Amber laughs. "Charity, right?"

I laugh picking one out the bag. "Yeah bitch my name Charity."

"No..." Hidia says pointing to Amber. "Are you?"

"I can't piss without Chris there, better yet spend 5 plus minutes in the bathroom."

"So let's all pee on a damn stick."

Everybody freezes when the door opens. Fadiya stares around the room awkwardly. She had all of us scared. She comes in the room and closes the door softly still confused. I blow breaking the silence.

"Who would think the first time you fuck somebody without a condom your shit disappear? Poof." I say emptying the bag.

"Or fucking your ex baby brother, right?" Fadiya says.

"What?" I snap then whisper. "Bitch you pregnant?"

"By her ex's baby brother. Let's keep the juice." Hidia says grabbing a test. "Oh no. I ain't fucking taking shit with yall. This not high school. This ain't no damn pregnancy pact."

I stuff my mouth then walk toward the bathroom. "Me first. I had to pee 5 frittatas ago."

  Trey

A part of me really wanted to open up that box and let Cammie's mother know about what happened to her in college. The other part of me says I'm a coward for drawing the attention to something else. I love my Jayla and who knows what tragedy she will have to relive. I touch her thigh. I got you baby.

"That's selfish of me. This not about them." I say looking at April. You gonna back me up?

"It's about anything that safely comes up." Wanda says.

I shrug. "I agree but we pushing this if she says she doesn't want to talk about it."

"Well then Trey talk about what's going on with you. You say you fine. Do we just let that go?"

"No, cause I'm not fine." I say.

Cammie looks at me. "Why not?"

I shrug. "I just want different things in life and it ain't working."

"Say what?" She snaps.

"I mean..."

She makes a sassy face. "Take your time and say it right. We got time to hear you out."

I chuckle at her attitude. "I'm saying I want to be out there hustling and making moves. I want to be the man on top. Have all the money I can get. You know? But I just want to sit home and be with my family. The pull isn't working. It makes me fucking crazy."

"That's very understandable when you don't set clear realistic goals for yourself." Wanda says. "You know Trey when have you ever just stopped and dealt with everything that has happened in the last year. You got married, had a baby in the hospital, went on a career altering tour, and released an album. Have you dealt with any of this?"

"I've dealt with it. I got through it."

She leans up towards the table. "What made you not take your life?"

I look at Cammie. "I wanted to hear my baby voice."

"Tremaine?" Cammie says tears running down her cheeks.

"Not your son?" April asks.

I shake my head squeezing Cammie's thigh. "No. They have her. They have the best thing for them."

"Me by myself is not the best thing for them jackass."

"Jayla." Her mom says softly.

April whispers something to her. I rub on Cammie's thigh. She blows shaking her head. I mean it was what I was feeling. It was the truth.

"I know different now."

"Do you Tremaine? Was Lane fucking better off before you met him? Was he good not even having a chance to know his father? And you gonna do it to Caden willingly?"

"I wasn't thinking about that."

She sucks her teeth. "Of course because you were being selfish. If something happens to me then..."

"No. We not talking about that shit." I retort.

"Tremaine, yes the fuck we are. I got to know that you are here for my boys and not just me."

I turn to her. "I love the fuck out of my sons. I just don't want to think of losing you."

"They shouldn't have been easy for you to erase."

"Jayla you wouldn't fucking know what drugs will help you erase."

I just said the wrong fucking thing. I wanted to take it back immediately. Gotdamn. I lose all the fucking control I had. She springs up from the table and starts to walk away. I get up on her heels. I stop her.

"Baby, I'm sorry." I say hugging her.

"Get off of me. How the fuck you gonna tell me? Like..."

I hug her close to me against her will. "Jayla, I'm sorry."

"You can't keep doing shit like this."

"I know." I say kissing her head. "I'm sorry."

She hits me. "For what Tremaine? Why the fuck are you sorry? Let me go."

"Jayla." I say not listening.

"Let me go!" She screams.

I let go of her backing up. I always fuck stuff up worse than they were. That's the reason I feel like I don't deserve her. Shit like this. I can't get my fucking self together and its tearing us apart. Painfully and slowly. Ripping everything we could be apart before we even get it together. She walks out of the room. Nobody tries to even stop her. She didn't want me to touch her and that shit had my heart burning out my chest.

"I don't understand." Her mother says. "She is just so angry. So hurt."

"You can really feel it can't you?" Wanda says.

"Oh yes. I am her mother. I can feel her when she is miles away. Just hurting. It just hurts when you have to let go of the person you loved so deep and everything they left behind forces you to let go as well."

I turn around when I hear a chair move. April was hugging her and saying something low to her. I wipe my face defeated. I walk out of the room to find Cammie.

[spaceskam]

who tells your story

Welcome to the first-ever Wheel of Crack Wednesday! I'm so super excited to start this. Basically every Wednesday, I'm going to post something crack-shippy of some sort. Typically, I'll just spin a wheel and randomize the couple for that Wednesday, but, for our first event (and for any Wednesday that someone has a special idea for), we have a special prompt from my beloved @brightloveee

Your wish is my command ❤️ (ps they won't all be this serious or this long or this bittersweet, I just got carried away. they will typically be in the spirit of crack)

ao3

Once upon a time, there was a boy with a broken heart.

Moving on was difficult. It didn't really matter what one was moving on from, just the act alone was hard. Alex knew that better than anyone. He'd spent a decade trying to move on from a man that he wasn't sure even remembered his name. When he got home and discovered he not only had remembered his name, but he had missed him just as much. How ridiculous was that? It was a love story of the ages.

Now, however, that man had moved on and so Alex needed to as well. For real this time. 

"C'mon, Buffy, let's go for a walk," Alex cooed, scratching her head as he attached the leash to her collar. Alex wasn't sure how to move on exactly, but clearing his mind sounded like a good first step.

He let Buffy lead him far behind the cabin, the trees engulfing them both as they wandered away from the trail that Jim Valenti hadn't been around to maintain. Alex liked going out into the trees at night. He did a lot when he was younger; it felt like home. He really needed something that felt like home now that his life with Michael Guerin was certifiably over.

Alex’s fingers felt along the trees he passed and he let his eyes close for a few steps to take it all in. The smell of the trees and the feeling of leaves brushing his cheeks soothed him.

“Thank you, forest, you’re too good to me,” he whispered to no tree in particular.

He wandered until the anxiety of being forever alone left his system. There was just something ever so comforting about the forest that he couldn’t quite explain. It made him feel like no one in a good way. There was no weight on his shoulders in there, but he could regain the weight whenever he wanted to.

He wandered until he was ready to take the weight back.

“C’mon, Buffy,” he said after a while, “Let’s go home.”

-

Alex was awake for less than ten minutes before he realized Buffy was missing.

Somehow, that felt like the worst thing the world had ever done to him. He searched the whole house, he called her name incessantly, he looked around outside, he even texted everyone to see if they’d somehow seen her. After an hour, he realized he couldn’t do much but wait and hope she was just in the woods and doing what beagles do. If that meant him crying on the couch the whole time, well, no one had to know.

A knock on the door thirty minutes after had him wiping his nose on his shirt and double-checking it wasn’t obvious that he’d been crying. He was expecting it to be Liz or Kyle all ready to go Buffy hunting, but he still didn’t want them knowing he was crying. That felt a little too dramatic, especially when she was probably fine.

Except, when he opened the door, it wasn’t Liz or Kyle or anyone he’d ever seen before.

It was a very tall man in very torn up clothing, face young and eyes big and smile sweet and arms full of Buffy. Alex all but started crying at the sight of her. Oh, thank God.

“I found your Buffy,” the guy said. His voice was deep as hell and it had Alex’s mind swimming.

“Oh my God,” he said, taking her from his arms and cuddling her close. She seemed vaguely irritated with all the holding, but he still snuggled close. He thought he’d lost her too. “Thank you so much for bringing to me. Did she show up where you’re staying or something?”

The man blinked with his whole face and nodded. He was all limbs with arms and legs that didn’t seem to end and his face was unbearably kind. His eyes were so wide that it would’ve been sketchy on anyone else, but he made it endearing. While he wasn’t exactly stunningly attractive, he was beautiful in a plain sort of way, like the way an empty field was pretty. He smelled like the trees though and Alex smiled.

“I’m Alex, by the way,” he said, putting Buffy down and letting her waddle away. He held his hand out for the man to shake. 

“Alex,” he repeated. He stared at Alex’s for a moment like he was trying to figure out what he was supposed to do, then he let out a quiet ’oh’ of realization before he grabbed it and brought it to his lips. Alex just stared at him in bewilderment. “I’m Forest.”

“Hi, Forest,” Alex said, clearing his throat and tried not to be too obviously flustered, “I’ve never seen you before? Are you new around here?”

“No,” he said simply. Alex licked his lips.

“Alright.” 

Alex raided his mind for something to talk about. There was something about him that made Alex want to make sure he didn’t leave. It was probably the state of his clothes, he decided. The last time he helped out a homeless guy he ended up with a love so overwhelming that it caused the worst kind of pain and the best kind of joy. If there was one thing he was sure about, that wasn’t a mistake. This felt like the beginning to a much better story than the one he’d been leading.

“Do you want to come in?” Alex asked, “I can make you lunch as repayment for bringing my dog home.” He knew it was sort of stupid to invite a stranger into your home, but Alex didn’t get a single bad vibe from him. Which was saying something because Alex got bad vibes from almost everyone including Michael Gueirn.

This guy seemed pure.

He wasn’t one bit out of place inside the cabin.

-

“Oh my God, your hair is wild.”

Alex giggled for the fifth time that day which happened to be the fifth time that month. Forest was sitting on the floor in front of him, both a little wine drunk as he did his best to comb the knotted, curly mass that was Forest’s hair. It was past his shoulders and kinky and such a dark brown that Alex could get lost in it. It somehow managed to be in one knot and multiple at the same time.

Somehow, they had spent the entire day together. He’d come in for lunch and Alex had such a good time with him that it was like he blinked and it was night. Forest was kind for a way that was unmatched, just a ball of courtesy and curiosity and sweetness. He seemed so full of life and eager to know everything and caring so much about what Alex felt about those things while also being infinitely wise. He could spin tales from any time in history, yet seemed so entranced by the way wine tasted. Alex’s whole body was hot with adoration.

“When’s the last time you brushed it?” Alex asked, bubbling with laughter as Forest down the rest of his glass with childish eyes. 

“One day before, I think,” he said. Alex nodded. Fair enough.

“I want to give you different clothes, but I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit you.”

“I don’t need them.”

“You don’t need new clothes or you don’t need clothes at all?”

“Yes.”

“I feel that.”

Forest giggled, a small little sound that contrasted strongly to the deep tone of his speaking voice. He tilted his head back and gazed up at Alex with adoring eyes. It made him warm inside, a way he hadn’t felt in a really long time. It felt like home.

“I have seen so many things that the earth decided to create and you are by far the most lovely,” Forest said and Alex was thankful his face was already red from the wine. He was forever blessed with men who had no ability to stop themselves from saying things that made his brain shortcircuit.

“Thank you,” Alex said, “You’re very gorgeous too.”

“Yes,” Forest agreed. They both laughed again.

Hours continued to pass. They talked and drank more and got to know each other in a way that was simply now rather than then. He didn’t know Forest’s parents’ names or where he was from, but he already memorized the way he pushed his hair out of his face with his palm and had discovered his love for everything in nature. Alex didn’t tell Forest about his time in the Air Force, but Forest quickly seemed to learn which hand Alex held his glass in and when his glasses needed to be pushed up further on his nose. Those things felt more significant than the idea of a time before they were together on his couch.

Alex introduced him to Netflix and Forest found Alex’s hands much more interesting.

“That tickles,” Alex whispered, though he couldn’t stop staring at the way Forest traced his fingers and the back of his hand like it was a glass figurine. Beautiful and fascinating and breakable. Forest’s eyes shot up to his, a deep green that seemed to be the sole decision in his namesake.

“Tickles?” Forest repeated, saying the word slow as if trying to figure out where it fit in his mouth. Alex raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve never been tickled before?” Forest blinked that innocent little blink of his.

“I don’t think I understand.”

Alex, fueled with wine and the desire to be closer to someone, reached forward and wiggled his fingers into his abdomen. Forest jolted back in surprise, eyes wide and mouth in an ‘o’ shape. He looked back and forth between his stomach and Alex’s hand.

“What?” he whispered. Alex giggled and reveled in the way he scooted closer to inspect his hand again.

Alex grabbed his hand instead, gently grazing his finger over the back of Forest’s hand and watching the evolution of his face as it tickled him. It was beautiful and new and soft. Forest moved closer, taking Alex’s hand and mimicking him.

“You like that feeling?” Forest asked.

“Do you?” Alex said instead of answering. He didn’t have a good answer. It wasn’t no, but it wasn’t yes. He liked the way his stomach would tense in anticipation and he liked the way it usually preceded much more intimate touching, but he hated just about everything else.

“I just…” Forest said, shaking his head in awe, “Touch me again, please?”

Alex moved closer, reaching his hand up and tracing over Forest’s stubbly jaw and down his dark-skinned neck with that same feather-light touch he’d used on his hand. Forest let out a shaky little sigh, chills rising on his skin and his chest rising and falling a little more obviously. Alex traced over his ear, across his cheeks, above his eyebrows, down his nose, and made sure to be extra slow as he touched his lips.

“Alex,” Forest said with urgency, “I want‒”

But he didn’t say what he wanted. He looked confused, like he couldn’t find the word for what he wanted. Alex didn’t want to push. They were both drunk and Alex was just sad and desperate. So, instead of trying to fill in the blank, he smiled and tucked his thick curls behind his ear.

“You can sleep on the couch if you’d like,” Alex suggested. Something like disappointment burrowed into his brow, but he nodded nonetheless. 

“I would like.”

Alex left him an extra blanket and tried not to feel like he was insane when the only thing on his couch in the morning was a folded blanket, dirt, and leaves.

-

“Hello.”

Alex nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice that appeared behind him. It’d been three days since he’d hung out with Forest with no sign of him. He was sure he’d lost his goddamn mind, but apparently not. He turned to see him standing in his backyard wearing the same clothes as last time and seeming just as kind and alluring as Alex remembered. 

“Hey,” Alex said, trying not to be angry. There was nothing to be angry about. Alex didn’t know the guy, it’s not like he had obligations to talk to him or hang out with him. All he did was give him a place to sleep for the night. That didn’t mean anything.

“I learned I wanted to miss you,” Forest said. Alex huffed, dropping the axe in his hand from where he was chopping firewood.

“What does that mean?” Alex asked, turning to face him completely. Forest stepped closer and closer and closer until he was right in front of Alex. It really put into perspective that he was almost an entire head taller.

“I did not have a word,” he explained, “I do now. Last time, I had no words for what I wanted. I wanted to miss.”

“You were with me,” Alex said, shrugging one shoulder as he discreetly breathed in the woodsy smell of the man before him, “How do you miss someone you’re with in that moment?”

Forest’s eyebrows furrowed in that adorably confused face. He leaned down, close to Alex’s ear. Alex closed his eyes, waiting for whatever he had to say and vowing to enjoy it regardless.

“I think I do not understand the word miss,” he whispered.

Alex laughed and led him back inside.

“You don’t have to leave, you know. You can stay as long as you want,” Alex said as they walked to the kitchen. Forest stood closer than he did last time they were in there. He hovered over Alex’s shoulder as he began pulling out food to cook.

“Alex,” he responded, “What do I want?”

“I don’t know, Forest,” Alex said as kindly as humanly possible, “You tell me.”

Alex had approximately three and a half seconds to process anything before he was pressed against the fridge with Forest’s long body on his. His bony fingers were daintily holding his jaw, holding it up at the angle required to be kissed utterly senseless. Forest’s kisses were uncoordinated and sloppy, but they held so much passion that Alex couldn’t complain. Still, he reached up and silently helped guide him to kiss a little more securely and made a mental note to enjoy the process of teaching him how to do just that.

“Alex,” Forest said when he pulled away just a little, “That. What is that word?”

Alex let out a breathy laugh and pushed his hands into Forest’s mass of hair.

“Kiss,” he said, “You wanted to kiss me.”

-

“So you don’t know his last name or where he’s from or how old he is or why he wears ratty clothes or why he disappears for days at a time?”

“Nope.”

Alex wasn’t bothered by the judgmental faces on his friends. He much more enjoyed the playful man who Rosa was currently teaching how to play pool. Alex was very charmed by the way he was much more curious about the pool cue itself than anything else.

“Alex, what if he murders you in his sleep?” Isobel asked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, seriously, it’s sketchy,” Liz agreed. Alex shrugged.

“I didn’t tell him my last name or where I was from or how old I am or anything else like that, so why should I ask him?” Alex said. He didn’t feel the need to explain that this was the only person in the world other than Michael Guerin to make him feel warm and welcome all the time. This was the only person who he instantly felt belonged in his space like Michael Guerin. This was the first person since Michael Guerin to make him feel happy and loved and connected. He refused to give that up.

Besides, he was determined that this chapter of his story went much different than the last.

“How do you expect to have a relationship with him if you don’t talk?” Michael asked. Alex almost laughed, raising an eyebrow at him. Seeing Michael was a million times easier now that he knew someone else would come along. It wasn’t just Michael forever. Alex would love him for the rest of his life, but that was okay. He could handle that as long as someone who made him feel like Forest was around.

“Guerin, we do talk, we just don’t talk about stuff like that,” Alex said, “That shit seems unimportant.”

“But he looks homeless,” Max said softly, “Shouldn’t you find out if he is so we could help him?” Alex pressed his lips into a hard line.

“He has a spot on my couch any night of the week,” Alex stated firmly. He didn’t say that every night he stayed on the couch, he was gone in the morning and the only thing in his place was leaves and dirt. That would just further their suspicions.

“Well, are you happy?” Maria asked. 

“That’s what matters,” Kyle added.

Alex looked over to where Rosa had ditched the pool table and instead was teaching Forest how to braid. He looked so lost in the process, eyes wide in amazement. Alex felt fuzzy inside.

“Yes, I really am,” Alex said.

“Okay, but, Alex,” Michael said softly, “There’s something off about that guy. I can feel it. I want you to be happy, but… There’s just something wrong with him.” Alex scoffed, shaking his head. 

“You have no say in my relationship, Guerin. I don’t really give a shit what you think.”

Alex made his way towards Forest without letting Michael respond. Forest turned to him before he was able to reach him almost like he knew he was there. When he smiled, Alex grabbed the waistband of his pants.

“Let’s go home,” Alex said. Forest looked as intrigued in that sentence as he had with Rosa’s braiding. She snorted from beside them. “You can sleep in my bed tonight.”

“With you?” Forest asked, leaning down to him. Alex nodded.

“With me.”

-

“I like that.”

Alex chuckled, letting his eyes close as he relaxed with the large, lanky man laying on his chest. They were both completely bare, their skin still hot and sticky and their hearts still pounding. He felt completely at peace as they laid there, something he’d only felt while wandering the woods. It was almost the same feeling, really.

“Are you tired?” Alex asked him, running his hand through his hair. Forest hummed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

They got settled in bed, curled up together nicely. Alex was able to drift off better than he had in awhile and he slept harder than he had in years. That was it. That’s what he needed. He needed someone to make him feel that safe all the time. He needed that security.

That being said, when he woke up to an empty bed half-covered in leaves and dirt, he felt like this was karma at play.

Alex’s chest ached as he stared at the leaves in his bed, doing his best to push it away. It didn’t budge. He brought his knee to his chest and held on tight. This was his payback. Years and years of leaving Guerin had led to this moment of him having a good night with a man he felt like he loved and waking up alone. He didn’t realize just how bad it hurt to be on the receiving end of it.

His chest ached for the next three days as he avoided his friends.

“Alex!” Forest said happily when he let himself in after an entire weekend of being MIA after their first real night together. Alex glared at him and stepped away when he tried to get close. Forest frowned. “Alex?”

“Where do you go?” Alex demanded, “I-I don’t get it, where do you go? You up and disappear for days and, fine, whatever, I get it, but you can’t even give me a heads up? You just leave me?”

He knew it wasn’t fair to be angry. He’d done this so many times to a man he loved. He had no right to be pissed. But, God, he was.

“I do not understand,” Forest said, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Of course you don’t,” Alex laughed dryly, shaking his head, “Look, it’s not nice to have sex with someone and then leave them. I would know, I’ve done it. It’s a shitty thing to do.”

“Yes?” Forest said slowly like he didn’t know, like he didn’t care.

Alex scoffed, “You left me!”

Forest just looked even more confused and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly trying to find words he didn’t have. Alex rubbed his eyes and tried his best to calm down. He was overreacting.

“Just… where do you go? Did you have a good reason to leave? Is there a reason you put shit in my bed? Is there a reason for any of this or are you just fucking with me? Is this a joke?” he asked. That many questions was definitely unfair because he knew very well that Forest couldn’t process them. “Where do you go?”

Slowly, Forest lifted his hand and pointed in the ambiguous direction of the door.

Alex tilted his head back in frustration. He hated this. If this is how he had ever made Michael feel, then he wanted to apologize a million times over.

“You understand,” Forest said, “I told you. I told you, I know I did. I am Forest.”

Alex scoffed, “I know your name.”

“Alex,” he said sternly, “I am forest.”

Alex stared at him for a minute. He was processing the words, sort of, but not really. There was a block in his mind that prevented him from getting it. Or, maybe he was getting it and it was just too insane for him. It shouldn’t have been, though, because he had previously had sex with an alien. Clearly the unreal had a thing for Alex Manes.

“You’re… the forest?” Alex said slowly. Forest blinked innocently and nodded. “What the fu‒”

“You were so sad,” he said earnestly, “I just wanted to make it stop. Did I make it stop? Did I make it worse?”

Alex quickly walked towards the door, throwing it open to make sure the trees in his backyard were still there. They were, but somehow so was the body version of Forest. While the logical part of Alex told him this was clearly some elaborate lie, the rest of him wanted to believe it so badly.

“How the hell do you have a body? Are you every forest, or just this one? What are you?” Alex demanded. Forest squeezed his eyes shut and held up three fingers. Alex knew this was him trying his best to be coherent for him.

“The earth grants me this when I need it most,” he said and put down a finger, “This is me. I am nowhere but here.” He put down another finger. “I am Forest.”

Alex eyed him and then mentally gave himself a pat on the back for not absolutely freaking out about this. Turns out, finding out a giant alien conspiracy made other things a lot easier to process.

“What do you mean the earth grants you it when you need it most? Why did you need a body? Where does it come from? What is made of? How are you in it? Are you like a god or something? Is your psyche projected into an otherwise dead body?” Alex spewed. He felt bad for being overwhelming, but he was overwhelmed and he just wanted some fucking answers.

Forest took a slow breath.

“You were sad and I wanted to make it stop,” he said again, “You are so nice and it hurt me to see you hurt. I do not know what I am made of, but I know I am here with you and out there. When the day ends, I am no longer here with you, so I have to ask again to come. I am sorry you think I leave.”

 “So, what, you’re fucking supernatural Cinderella?” Alex asked and only got a very confused look from Forest.

Alex closed his eyes and gave himself a minute to process everything. So he had sex with the psyche of a forest that was probably in a body made of dirt. Weirder things have happened. He couldn’t think of any off the top of his head, but he was definitely sure that weirder things had happened.

“What happens if the earth tells you no and you can’t come again? You just don’t have a body and you’re stuck in the trees?” Alex asked. When Forest didn’t give him a direct answer, Alex took it as a yes. “So basically any day we spend together could be the last day I ever see you?”

“Yes,” he said.

Alex wanted to cry.

“So, what I’m hearing is that you are granted the power to be human with me because I’m sad, but if I get happy, you probably won’t be able to be here anymore. So my options are to have you and stay miserable, or move on from my bullshit and never see you again, right?” he clarified.

“I do not know,” Forest said, but it sounded right to Alex. Life was unfair that way.

“Okay,” Alex said, “So we’ll just have to make the most of it when you are here.”

Forest smiled again and waited for Alex to move closer. Rather than kissing or doing much more talking, Alex just wrapped his arms around him and received a similarly tight hug in return. 

As they hugged, he started putting the rest of the pieces together. The leaves and the dirt. The smell of the woods. The comfort he only received from the forest. Leave it to Alex to fall in love with two men that he could never really have, not really. Because life was difficult and it was cruel, but it still told Alex one thing. 

He could move on. There was someone out there who could love him. After all, an entire forest that wanted to make him better. That meant something. If everything else went to shit, that meant something.

Once upon a time, there was a forest who loved a brokenhearted boy so much it begged the earth for him.

That was a much better story.

[andrea-lyn]

In case you're still taking prompts: Malex rekindling their friendship as the group goes to some UFO convention in Vegas, where they end up getting drunk married

They’re turning thirty-one and it’s Michael’s turn to pick.

“I hate this birthday,” Isobel says, staring as people in alien costumes mill past their group. For all that she and Max might not be twins, there’s dual horror on their faces as they stare at the convention center, though Liz and Kyle look vaguely amused. “Why does he always pick the worst birthdays?”

“Is it better than the time he made us go stalk the air force training base to see if he could get a glimpse of Alex?” Max wonders.

Alex leans forward to stare at Michael in horror from across their group. “When did that happen?”

Michael dismisses it with a hand wave. “Not important,” he insists, grinning as he hands out lanyards. “Welcome to the UFO Convention,” he says, a manic look in his eyes. “Iz, don’t go in anyone’s head. Max,” he drawls, draping the lanyard over his neck, “try not to look like a resurrected alien so no one gets suspicious of you. Liz, please do find the one legit scientist buried in this place.” He hands a lanyard to Maria, gesturing to the ‘psychics amidst aliens’ booth, which clearly gets her excited, and Kyle follows after grabbing his lanyard from Michael and a look that says he’d better look out for her.

“With a few exceptions, you have terrible taste,” Kyle says in parting.

With that, they scatter until Alex is the only one left, pointing to the lanyard. “Don’t I get one?”

Michael has a very special surprise for Alex, though. He drapes the lanyard over his neck and winds their hands together (he’ll never get over how his healed hand fits in Alex’s so easily, the way they could have held hands like this at seventeen and missed the chance). “I got us a very special surprise,” he says, leading Alex to where he’d coordinated to get one of the exhibits shut down for them.

He ducks behind the curtain and leads Alex inside to where they’ve set up a projection of their galaxy on a dark ceiling, casting galaxies into their view.

Waiting expectantly, he tries to calm his rapidly beating heart, running his tongue over his lower lip as he presses a hand to the small of Alex’s back to walk him right to the center of it. It’ll never compare to sitting in the desert and stargazing, but for where they are, it’s not so bad. Besides, maybe later, he’ll kidnap Alex and they’ll go out there for real.

“This is incredible,” Alex breathes, staring up at it.

Even though the view above them is cosmically gorgeous, Michael can’t take his eyes off Alex for a second. “Yeah,” he agrees. “You are.”

Alex doesn’t bother to give him a glare, but his cheeks flush a little.

”Let’s get out of here,” Alex insists, pushing at Michael. “Because I have a sneaking suspicion that we’re not supposed to be here.”

Michael makes a face and he’s not sure why he ever bothers, because it’s not like Alex will ever believe it.

”Fine, you win.” He leads them out and to the bar, where Alex insists on buying them the first round. They have plans to wait for the others, but one round turns into a second and then a third when everyone is off having their own fun. “Which one of them do you think is making out?” Alex asks, prodding at Michael’s shoulder. “Isobel and Maria? Or Max and Liz? Or…Kyle and…”

Michael leans in for a kiss because if they’re talking about making out, then he wants it to be him and Alex. Besides, it’s his birthday and it’s his choice for how he wants to spend it.

Sitting in a booth at the bar and making out with Alex is right up there on the top of his list. They haven’t really spent much time at all at the convention, which is fine by him. He’s not in the mood to argue with conspiracy theorists about why their spaceship designs are shitty and would never work.

It’s much better to sit here and drink with Alex, rounds two and three making him feel invincible and so good. The fourth round is where things start to go off the rails, because all those light kisses are starting to get a touch more aggressive. There’s still hope to reel it back, but only if they stop drinking.

They don’t, though.

Fourth round turns into fifth and the romantic mood from earlier has transitioned into a touchy one, their hands all over one another. “Hey,” Alex exhales, tugging on Michael’s collar with both hands, yanking him in a few times. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Michael laughs, giddy and drunk and a little wobbly.

“Let’s do something stupid.”

“I’m something stupid, you could do me.”

Alex smacks his palm against Michael’s chest a few times. “Yeah. Yeah! Later,” he insists. “Let’s do something really stupid.” His eyes are as bright as the stars and he’s so excited, but for all the money in the world, Michael never would’ve counted on what happens next. “Let’s get married.”

“Is that the tequila speaking, or can you please send Alex Manes back to speak to me, thank you,” Michael mumbles drunkenly, but it’s not the worst idea. Is it? Shit, he’s too drunk.

“Alex Manes,” he replies, “and yeah, let’s get married. We’ve been dating for a year, but we’ve been together forever. Are you telling me you see a future where we don’t do this?”

“You know I don’t have that power,” Michael mumbles, but he’s starting to come around to the idea.

Alex is right. After everything they’ve gone through, neither of them is about to decide that they don’t want this, which means that it’s probably one of the smartest ideas he’s ever heard in his life.

They drink round seven and get out of there to find the nearest chapel, where they do something extremely stupid, and then Alex makes Michael so proud, yanking him towards their newly upgraded honeymoon suite.

”Now, what was that about me doing something stupid…?”

Oh yeah, thinks Michael. Best birthday ever.

*

The next morning, they meet the rest of the group in the lobby of the hotel. Everyone is wearing sunglasses, which means that it’s a group hangover kind of day, though Michael already has a beer in hand and is heavily believing in the power of ‘hair of the dog’.

Alex seems fairly put together even though Michael knows he’d been drinking shot for shot with him, but maybe he has some secret human stubborn powers when it comes to processing his alcohol.

Whatever it is, it’s both charming and annoying.

It’s not as annoying as Valenti yanking Michael’s good hand into his. “What the fuck,” he snaps. “You had a quickie Vegas wedding?” he demands, gaping at the ring. “Please tell me it wasn’t…”

“Hey,” Alex interrupts, holding up an envelope as he returns to a group gaping at him. “They gave us the pictures from last night. Do you remember the giant green man standing up as our witness?”

Yup. That’s about when all hell breaks loose and they descend on Alex for the pictures, leaving Michael alone with his smug grin, a wedding ring on his finger, and the knowledge that he had a wedding presided over by Elvis while two little green men from the convention witnessed it.

Vegas, baby.