#through gritted teeth and tears welcome BACK ALEX

[realbeefman]

i feel insane

[alice-angel12x]

Who Famed Y/n Darling Chapter.1

(Welcome Home Au) Masterlist Here

"Don't fly to High Y/n! Your Wings still need time to grow!" Mother called out to me, just below me.

My tiny wings flapped as hard as they could, I wanted to reach the clouds like the rest of my older siblings. My mother was flying just beneath me, ready to catch me if I were to fall.

Suddenly, my feathers started to fall off me as I began to plummet to the earth. The sky was suddenly getting farther and farther away, as my mother's voice cried out for me in horror.

But when I hit the ground I'm suddenly older, in a dark grim place. Cages were everywhere as horrible laughs and screams could be heard. A dark figure looms over me as his red-tinted glasses gleam down at me. Ink and paint dribbled down my back from where My... Wings were once attached.

The figure was about to grab my face when suddenly, a loud ringing filled my ears.

Chapter 1

Y/n Gasps awake as their sheets go flying off them. Y/n quickly looked around, only to quickly notice that they were safe in their bedroom. Their Alarm clock blared and shook the nightstand. With a quick slap, the clock shuts up and falls to the ground.

"OW! The Day Just Started What's Got You So Upset?!" The clock growled.

"Sorry, sorry. Nightmare again," Y/n apologized as they rolled out of bed.

"Again," The sentient clock sighed. "Just because you had a bad dream, doesn't mean you take it out on me."

"Sorry Cogsmith," Y/n said as they gently placed the clock back on the nightstand.

"Maybe you should see a therapist," Cogsmith suggested.

The two sat in silence for a bit and eventually broke out into loud laughter. Cogsmith even wiped a tear away with his tiny metal arm.

"Haha, therapy for Toons. Sadly not likely. Too expensive for an average toon," Y/n sighed.

"Yeah, and those snooty humans want nothing with us other than laugh," Cogsmith scoffed. "Oh and speaking of laughs. If you don't book it in 5 minutes you are going to be late at the studio."

Y/n's eyes popped open wide as they let out a gasp as they began to zip around the house. Only Y/n's after images of the toon could be seen as the food was rapidly eaten, PJ's being tossed off, and day clothes slapped on. Y/n quickly tried to bush out morning breath as they ran out the door.

"Don't forget your work Papers! You'll be stopped at the gate without them!!" Cogsmith shouted as the tiny clock toon held up a large envelope of papers.

Y/n's arm stretched through the crack of the door and quickly yanked the papers out of the clock's hands. The toon dashed down to the sidewalk and quickly hopped into the seats of their invisible car.

"BBRRR!!" Y/n sounded as it powered the car to dash down the road.

As Y/n drove down the empty road, a distant engine behind them. Tilting the nonexistent rear-view mirror, and gasped to see who it was. But before Y/n could react the chaser rammed their nonexistent car into theirs.

"Alex! Stop it, that's reckless driving!!" Y/n shouted at Alex as they stabilized their "car".

"Not without a car it's not, My dear Rival!" Alex shouted as he rammed his "car" again. "Today's the day Y/n Scout that I put an End to You!"

"You say that every time and it's never going to happen!" Y/n shouted as they sped ahead. " And I don't have time for you today, I'm running late!"

"Well, Even more reason to chase you down," Alex smirked as he suddenly changed direction, and took a sharp right turn.

Y/n sighed in relief as they saw Alex suddenly drive off somewhere else. But that relief did not last long as Y/n saw the upcoming interesting, and Alex zooming down to the interesting lane, planning to crash into them.

Y/n gritted their teeth and stepped on the gas! Alex smirked as he also stepped on the gas, ready to crash into Y/n. Yet just as Y/n was about to reach the intersection, Y/n slammed on the brakes. Causing Alex to zoom past and crash into a pole. Knocking him unconscious..

Y/n sighs in relief as they drive past and toward Toon City. Yet as they got closer to the Toon city, they were stopped by a giant car pile in the middle of the street. Y/n groaned in frustration at the chaos. Toons were just running around nonsensically and not fixing the problem.

With a sigh, Y/n quickly put the car in reverse, to take a left to try to cut through Anime City. One of the few larger and first-class urban cities in Toon town. Thankfully no crazy car crash pile there, so Y/n was able to pass through without trouble. But of course, the only transport Gate was blocked by protesters. Toon protestors who were protesting against humans turning their movies/ shows into Live-action.

So Y/n slowly and carefully drove forward hoping the toons would just move aside. The Gate security around the gate started to push the crowd out of the way so other toons could get throuth

"Humans are trying to replace us!" "We Won't Let Them!" they chanted as Y/n finally made it to the gate.

The Human Gate officer sat in his booth with a tired and bored expression as Y/n pulled up. The Booth was on their right, and ahead of them was a heavy red stage curtain that blocked the tunnel.

"Work papers and proof of invitation," The officer said robotically.y.

Y/n quickly handed over their document, as the officer did the standard procedure. With a loud stamp, he looks at Y/n with a critical look.

"Be back before midnight, and don't cause trouble, Toon," The officer warned.

" I never do," Y/n smiled.

With a huff, the guard pulled back the curtains. reaveling a seemingly endless void. Y/n zoomed into the darkness as the light from behind vanished, causing the end of the tunnel to suddenly appear in sight. Suddenly they were spat out of the tunnel and onto the road towards Applewood City.

It was bustling with humans and puppets as Y/n zoomed past. But came to a screeching halt just a few inches away from a small raccoon toon.

"Rachy? What are you doing out here? I thought you were under toon arrest," Y/n asked with slight shock. "You should be in toon town."

"I do what I want! Not Even Doom can stop me!" Rachy shouted as he ran off, disappearing into the crowd.

Soon a few toon police zoomed past to chase after the small Racoon. With a small chuckle, they looked back at the traffic light, waiting for the green. When they felt like someone was looking at them intensely. Y/n looked over to their left to see a sedan in the back seat. A yellow puppet with a blue pompadour was staring at them with a befuddled expression.

Toons and Puppets don't usually run in the same circles. So this was probably this puppet's first time ever seeing a toon. 'Why is this... person? floating, and so weirdly,' the puppet thought to himself.

Y/n smiled softly and gave a friendly wave. "It's a lowrider. Pretty cool huh?" They said with confidence.

The puppet just rolled up their window in response and looked elsewhere. With a sigh, Y/n turned back to the road and drove off down the road.

"What was that?" The puppet asked.

"A Toon, weird little creature," The chauffeur said simply.

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

Y/n zoomed through the streets and crashed into the toon Parking lot. A few seconds before they could be considered late.

"WOOW! Made it!" Y/n cheered as they jumped out of their "car" in victory. As it...Blew up behind him.

The Toon janitor, who was slightly caught in the explosion, sighed in annoyance.

"Sorry Mark," Y/n smiled nervously as they quickly ran off. But Mark simply fainted as Y/n ran off.

Y/n rushed through the studio to get their costume on as the crew ran about to prepare the recording.

"You're pulling it really close, Scout," The makeup artist said as she bobbed Y/n in the face with a cartoonishly large makeup pad.

Y/n tummbled back with a loud sneeze, and into a costume chest. The Artist quickly closed the trunk with Y/n inside and shook the chest like a shaker. When satisfied they tossed open the chest as Y/n flew out. Fully dressed in costume, they roll and stumble to a stand as they comb their hair back.

"You're always so gentle with me, ms. Darthy," Y/n smiled sheepishly.

"Don't be cheeky. Know hurry up and get on set!" They shouted.

[traveler-of-realms]

In the years of World War 2, as the fighting broke out, a tale was often told in hushed tones at bar counters and pool tables.

The story goes that a horrible monster was once within the American ranks. An unassuming German, barely a man, who no one had any record of. No immigration documents, no letters from family, nothing. No one even knew his name.

He was shot and killed during one of the many rounds of gunfire exchanged across no man’s land. A bullet to the heart, or the head.

Then he rose again under the light of the full moon. A zombie, an undead, they whispered. He ate his comrades and fled from righteous gunfire and the incantations of the army’s resident priest.

Looking at him, Alex couldn’t see a shred of truth to those myths. A ragged soldier holding a bleeding, lame arm stumbled through Alex’s domain. Dried tears coated his red, splotchy face. The battered jacket he wore was filthy, coated in mud and blood. Where was the terrifying creature with black eyes and bloody mouth, who tore through an entire regiment? All Alex saw was a scared child that never should have been drafted.

So he manifested himself. Appearing in a swirl of green magic and leaves, he stood before the intruder. Wide eyes looked up at him in fear. Black sclera and icy blue irises, fascinating. “Be not afraid, Felix. I will not harm you.”

“You again,” he muttered. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“My dear boy, you do this to yourself. I only wish to help you.” The glare he got in return only made him tilt his head. "I speak truthfully, young man. I am not here to kill you, or harm you in any way."

Felix only cradled his wounded arm closer. The bandages were dark brown and absolutely filthy. It’s been a week since he saw any human life, maybe more.

Alex extended his hand slowly. "Here, allow me--" He retracted his hand just in time to save it from the swing Felix threw at him. "You will not survive out here on your own."

Felix waved dismissively. "That's fine. It'll get me away from you faster."

"And where are you going to go if you do make it out of this forest alive? Your comrades will not welcome you back after..." The other man grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight against the tears threatening them. "I did not mean to frighten you." He fished a handkerchief out of the inner pocket of his coat. "Here, I-I am sorry."

But Felix only shook his head and retreated further. Gently, Alex stepped back and waited.

"Why are you still here?" Felix demanded. "Go away."

"I cannot leave you to die. Please, just come with me. There is still somewhere you can be--"

"After that?! I just--No. No, get away from me." One backed away, another surged forward. "Did you hear me? Get away from me!"

"Felix," he tried, weakly. "There is a place for you."

"There's no place for monsters. That was a war crime. You offer sanctuary to a beast," Felix spat.

"Even you deserve a chance. Come with me, please. You can shed your old identity. No one you know will have to know what you've done." Felix didn't respond, but he stopped moving. "It was an accident, wasn't it? You had no control over the situation," Alex said gently.

Felix nodded. "Why me? Why not someone with a moral code?"

"I do not believe you are a terrible man, Felix. I can teach you control. Over time, you will see the same good in yourself that I see. Just give it a chance."

"And that's it? I leave everything behind, and then what?"

"You will see. I am not demanding anything of you."

"I don't have a choice," Felix said bitterly. "I'm a deserter and a war criminal." He sighed, resignation in his eyes as he finally looked up at Alex. "Fine. Let's go."

Alex smiled. "I am glad to have you, Felix."

"Not Felix anymore. I want to leave that world behind." He flinched as Alex gently grabbed his wounded arm.

"Of course. Do you have a new name in mind?" Carefully, he unwound the ruined bandages to assess the damage.

The soldier watched curiously, almost boredly, as Alex tended the wound. For a long time he didn't speak. Then, as Alex wrapped his arm in fresh bandages, he finally decided. "Kyle," he said decisively. "My name is Kyle."

"It is a pleasure to have you, Kyle. Come, then. Now, how do you feel about magic?"

An abandoned child is stumbling through the woods, barely surviving. The god of the forest and hunt notices them and after a while can’t bare watching the clumsiness anymore, deciding to train the child.

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 15)

Previously, on LBitR

Kara says no.

Lena is not surprised. They may have grown apart, yes, and she may have claimed otherwise when she was hurt and heartbroken, but the truth of the matter is, she knows Kara—stubborn, hard-headed, resolute, and so optimistically brave. Of course Kara thinks they can do this.

But Lena also knows herself. She is also stubborn, hard-headed, and resolute. It’s partially what made them—her and Kara—so volatile to one another when everything came crashing down.

Lena also likes to think she has even a modicum of Kara’s bravery, when the occasion calls for it. She’d like to think that what she’s about to do counts as that, instead of complete stupidity.

“Listen to me,” she says, mind still reeling after their explosive argument at the side of the road, about fifty miles back. The last time they had shouted so much at each other had been back at the Fortress, and when that memory returns—fuzzy, faded—Lena resolutely tamps it down like she would an oozing wound. “Kara, listen—"

“No.”

Kara’s gritting her teeth so hard Lena almost thinks she can hear them grinding. She figures Kara needs to let some of her strength go somewhere other than the steering wheel already marked with the deep imprints of her fingers.

“Kara.”

“No.”

“Kara. It’s the only way.”

For the second time that day, Kara guides the vehicle to a stop at the shoulder of the road. Her shoulders sag with the heaviness of the sigh she releases, and Lena can see the fading sunlight in the glimmer of the tear tracks on her cheeks. “There has to be another way. I refuse to accept this.”

Lena reaches her good hand over, pats Kara’s arm, which is rigid and tense like the rest of her, coiled so tight it practically trembles. “Whether you accept it or not, we’re out of options.”

“Don’t think—” Kara chokes on her own words, and her whole body clenches even tighter. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing—what you’re planning on doing, Lena. It’s suicide.”

“It’s the only way,” Lena says demurely. She’s thought about this for the past hour—she’s been running all possibilities in her head, speed running through them like a competitive chess game.

Lena suddenly remembers playing with Lex, as a young girl. She remembers his gloating whenever he won, disguised as brotherly advice, and she remembers beating him—how he’d stiffly and coldly congratulate her, hiding a silent fury in his eyes. The way Lex won any game—chess or otherwise, high-stakes or no—was by rattling his opponent, with an aggressive opening that left them scrambling from the get-go, second-guessing their every move.

He’s got them scrambling alright, has had them scrambling since the beginning, Lena realizes, perhaps a little belatedly. He’s gotten into their heads—he’s certainly gotten into Lena’s head—and that’s gotten them on the backfoot all along.

They have limited moves; they’re cornered in the board, and the only way out is through drastic action. Lena cannot second-guess herself in this.

“If he’s got Alex, then this is the only way.” Her voice brokers no argument—the kind of tone she used to employ against moody board-members once upon a lifetime ago—yet she knows Kara will argue. Kara will not back down on this, and Lena wouldn’t expect anything less.

“We’re not sure he’s got her,” Kara interjects, though she doesn’t seem to believe herself. “You don’t have to—you don’t have to, Lena.”

Lena wishes it were true. She wishes they had more moves, more pieces to make another play, any other play except the one she has to make. “I do, Kara.”

It takes another two hours of talking—and talking is putting it mildly. There’s talking, and then there’s more shouting, and then there’s crying. Mostly from Kara’s part, her despair mounting as she comes to the inevitable realization that her hands are tied, that they are out of options, and that Lena is right. Lena refuses to shed a single tear, though her heart breaks over and over at every sob Kara fails to stifle.

But in the end, Lena breaks her—she breaks down every defense, every argument Kara has, until she’s basically cornered Kara into a checkmate she never signed up for. It hurts, to do it like this—to be as impassive and unyielding, as cold as she is. But the strategy pays off, and Kara acquiesces when she’s got no tears left to try.

They part ways in the early morning light, somewhere up in the mountains of Virginia. They’re both exhausted, with red-rimmed eyes and hoarse voices, and there’s so much… resentment in the air it practically sizzles, almost like it was when they were at her worst.

Kara does as well at being pushed into a corner as Lena.

She shoots off into the cover of the trees with a barely-concealed sniffle and a terse goodbye, and Lena feels like her heart flies away with her. She wants to shout for Kara to come back to her, she wants to apologise over and over and over again, for everything. But the play is in motion.

Lena climbs back into the RV with a tired sigh and a wince—the painkillers have long worn off, and her broken hand hurts considerably. She tries to focus on the pain radiating through her bones as opposed to the increased shallowness of her breaths, or her irregular heartbeat.

She can do this, she has to do this.

Lena takes a few minutes to try and calm herself as best as she can, with minimal success, but it is enough—enough to stomach through the pain in her hand, the gaping void she feels in her chest now that Kara is not next to her, the painful flashes of half-memories that still crowd her brain… enough to turn the RV around, broken hand be damned, and floor it down the road heading west. To National City—to Lex.

It doesn’t take long for Lex—or rather, whatever goons he hired for the job— to find her, though admittedly it’s longer than Lena had anticipated. She did make it relatively easy for them, taking a major cross-country highway right off the bat and driving almost twelve straight hours uninterrupted to a rather large, crowded, and definitely CCTV-surveilled rest stop. She takes her sweet time, too—it’s almost like she’s saying I’m here, come get me.

Which they do. Eventually.

Lena has been at the rest-stop for almost two hours, effectively a sitting duck, when she finally feels the prick of a needle at the back of her neck as she exits the restroom. It’s weird, all things considered, that the sensation feels familiar. She’s barely conscious when someone catches her before she falls face-first on the cheap linoleum, has just enough focus to see the dark van, but when darkness overtakes her vision and she can’t feel her limbs anymore, she almost welcomes the respite.

Finally, some rest.

When she wakes, it is to a blessedly darkened room and a pounding headache. It really says something about the life she’s lead, the fact that Lena is familiar with the process of regaining consciousness from a drug-induced slumber.

She takes stock of her body, first—blinks her eyes to gain focus, runs her tongue over her lips. Then she takes a slow, deep breath, fully expanding her lungs, pleased that there are no twinges of pain at her ribs or her back. She stretches, feeling softness underneath her, and realizes she’s on a bed.

Lena feels clean, oddly, like she’s taken a shower recently. Her hair still feels a little damp, and by extension do does her pillow.  She’s not fully covered, but the sheets up to her waist are very soft, and her clothes are comfortable, almost like pajamas.

She could so easily convince herself it was all a dream. Lena almost wants to, wishes to hold onto that little nugget of comfortable lunacy for as long as possible.

But she feels the cast on her broken hand, and hears shuffling by the foot of the bed. Lex sounds thoroughly amused when she opens her eyes and finally meets his gaze.

“Hello, Lena.”

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[pleasantwizardphilosopher]

Roll over, baby

I’m currently obsessed with the song “Roll over, baby” by LANY, I just find it extremely relatable, the lyrics have gotten to my core. I think is because I feel like being on a relationship is just that, choosing constantly to meet each other halfway. And the, out of literally nowhere, an idea popped into my head and I decided to write a Supercorp fic based on that song, here’s the result, I hope it warms your heart the same way it does to me.

You can also read it in AO3, please leave kudos if you like it

Most of the times we see eye to eye

They don’t fight. Not usually at least. After being together for three years and more than four of friendship it is hard for them to encounter a situation that escalates. Sure, they argue sometimes and more than frequently hold different points of view, however, they are also capable of understanding each other, to get each other’s views and where they are coming from, they know the other perfectly after all, their buttons, fears and insecurities.

And it’s not like us to be staying up to fight

Today, today is different though. It’s almost midnight and Kara just came back (was brought back) to their shared apartment after going solo in a mission to stop a 5th dimensional imp. She was meant to wait for Brainy and Lena to build, an prepare for launch, a stunning beam that would momentarily cut the connection between their rouge alien and the 5th dimension powers, so Kara could step in as Supergirl along with Nia and take him down. However, waiting a few more minutes was apparently a little too much for the Kryptonian since she headed there by herself after 10 minutes of restless pacing in the Tower. The fella was causing trouble downtown, destroying several local businesses and a school, no one was injured though, still the Girl of Steel couldn’t refrain from being helpful and decided to go by herself.

“It’s going to be fine Lena, I’m just going to play bait while you guys finish off the slowing beam and then we can just send him off to one of our holding cells” she said confidently, just before bursting out of the Tower’s balcony. Barely spearing a second to kiss her on the lips.

She didn’t play bait.

She became an alien boxing bag for the being. He was more powerful and attuned to the 5th dimension than they all, Kara particularly, had anticipated. After a rather violent fight where Kara ended up severely beaten up, he had the guts to threw her into the 5th dimension and afterwards they both vanished.

They spent a whole week trying to find her and bring her back. When they did, she had been held captive in a pocket dimension, restrained with kryptonite cuffs. She was absolutely disoriented and extremely weak, having spent a long period of time under the effects of the green rock. Moreover, the problematic imp kept running rampant trough the city and letting loose God knows what. The Superfriends were torn between stopping him and bringing the hero back. At the end, they concluded that the more productive outcome would be to restrain him and then force him to bring the Kryptonian back. One problem at a time.

They set up a trap. Brainy and Lena designed a quantum net that followed Schrödinger’s principle, the space held by it simultaneously existed, and it didn’t, they had to use nanotechnology capable of producing a quantum field, theoretically, it would allow them to break his connection long enough to be restrained, albeit the challenge would be to find his exact location within the quantum realm. However, they needed someone within the range of the net to bring him down. J’onn was the chosen one, since he is the second strongest among them, that way Dreamer would stay behind with the rest of the team in case something went wrong and J’onn needed backup, or in case the net didn’t work, and they needed to move civilians to safety.

Fortunately, the trap worked, and after being thoroughly interrogated by Alex, he brought Kara back. They were absolutely relieved to see her unharmed, mostly, since all her battle injuries were worse than previously thought, due to having been cuffed with kryptonite for a prolonged timelapse and deprived of yellow sunlight. Her injuries were tended by Alex and Lena, and then she was sent to spend several hours under the sun lamps. Nevertheless, after a few hours she was totally bored and wanted nothing more than to go home, her sister agreed, knowing the genius of a woman had sun lamps installed all over their place.

Most of the time, yeah, we’re so in love

What did I do? What did I say? What’s up?

“How could you?!” she yells, even though she is trying not to lose her bearings, jade-green eyes sparkling with anger and clouded by fear. “We told you to wait for us! We are a team, Kara” They had come back, and as soon as they crossed the threshold her fiancé asked her why she was being so reserved, they had barely exchanged a few words, not even a greeting kiss or a ‘welcome home’ hug. It was the drop that broke the dam.

“I had to go! It is my duty to protect the people of National City and that guy running rampant through the city was definitely withing my responsibility, someone could have gotten injured for Rao’s sake” the blonde reboots with all her might, her voice straining from the effort to keep it leveled and not scream at the CEO. Tears threaten to spill from stormy blue eyes.

“And what about me, us, our friends! Did you even stop to think about how much it’d hurt us to lose you?!” It’s meant to be scolding, using her best boardroom voice, but it comes out as barely above a whisper. She stares intently into sapphire blue eyes.

“I know that you have to protect those who are more vulnerable, I’m not asking you to deny that part of yourself, I’m just asking you not to be so reckless, to wait for backup, you can’t do things on your own” the green-eyed woman voices, hesitantly, pleading.

“I am thinking about you Lena, and the others, every single second, every moment that I put on this cape I do it for you and them, so you can be safe, can’t you see that?” it comes out as a tremor, her voice wavering, a silent tear streams down her cheek.

“I see it all the time, but why can’t you understand that it is not your responsibility to be the hero all the time, that we are there to help you through it?” the genius pleads, voice quivering, more tears smearing her makeup. Forest green eyes seem cloudy with unshed tears.

The Kryptonian scoffs, “It IS my responsibility, I’m the one who has this powers and I’m trying to do good with them” she states in a hoarse voice while raising her hands and waving exasperatedly, a glint of anger flickering in ocean blue.

“Uh-huh, no! You’re not seriously telling me that. I thought we had moved past your god complex, you can’t fix everything!” she hisses between gritted teeth, her hands are clenched into fists, and she has to stop herself from shoving her finger into the blonde’s chest.

“Maybe I can’t but that doesn’t mean I should stop trying! You knew what you were getting into when we started dating! It’s not my fault you forgot” she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth, she can see the shift in kryptonite-green eyes, all defensiveness gone, substituted with hurt and insecurity.

“Lena…no…I-“, the blonde stammers, but it is too late. Lena is turning on her heels towards their bedroom, not even sparing her love a glance. Her shoulders slumping and her head is low, almost ashamed, she could hear the jump her heart made, it sounded painfully breaking. She is left there, alone in their kitchen. With a groan she drops her head in her hands and tries to regulate her breathing and organize her thoughts.

Tomorrow we’ll be just fine

But let’s not waste tonight

Kara peeks into their bedroom, is really dark but she can still make out Lena’s form, she’s laying on her side, facing away from the door, her hands are covering her moth, or so she guesses, from the way she’s positioned. Even without superhearing she’d still hear the soft sniffles and sobs coming from the woman. Her own eyes start filling with tears, knowing that her impulsiveness has led them to this. She bites her lip, reclining against the doorway.

After a moment of consideration, she pushes herself off the door frame and moves towards the bed. The blonde slides under the covers and scoots closer to the CEO, her whimpers are a lot more evident now, being so close to her, she can see the way her body shakes slightly with every new wave of tears. The scent of cinnamon that is Lena’s signature fills her nostrils and she wills herself not to cry harder. Laying on her side she reaches a tentative hand to caress the raven-haired woman’s arm.

Roll over baby, don’t be upset

When she doesn’t pull away from her touch, she slides her hand down her belly and scoots closer. She pats around blindly for a few seconds until she finds the slender alabaster hand she was looking for. She intertwines their fingers and starts rubbing smooth, tender circles over her knuckles, squeezing it slightly every now and then. They stay like that for a while, until she can hear her breathing even out and some of the tension leave her body, she places a soft kiss on the back of her neck, then, she pulls her hand softly, coaxing Lena to turn around and face her.

She does so slowly, albeit without hesitation. The Irish woman’s eyes are red and puffy from crying, there’s a little snot on her shirt and her cheeks are marred with drying tear trails, a light pink blush is dusting her cheeks. She looks up at her fiancé, her gaze seems sad still, although the hero can make out a little curiosity as well. Kara starts scooting backwards, to the edge of the bed, bringing Lena along with her, never letting go of her hand. Once she’s standing, she drops the raven-haired woman’s hand and studies her closely. Pleading blue meet curios green, the CEO is looking at her questioningly from the bed, she extends her hand palm up towards her love.

How can you fall asleep when you feel like this?

So, come on, baby, let me hold you instead

“Dance with me” the Kryptonian murmurs, as if she was afraid to burst their small bubble. Or maybe of breaking this little moment, still in time.

Lena looks at her hand warily but takes it with a nod, nonetheless.

The Girl of Steel takes them back to their living room, taking out her cellphone, she shuffles a little and settles for a soft song, placing her phone on the coffee table, “Roll over, baby” by LANY starts filling every corner of their living space. She moves to where Lena is standing and places both her hands on her hips, pulling her tenderly into her body, neither of them are wearing shoes, so she’s a little taller than the CEO, deep blue eyes search for forest green. Automatically the raven genius throws her arms around her shoulders, resting her head in the crook of the reporter’s neck. They are very close to each other, their fronts pressed together in a sweet embrace. Kara starts swaying them softly side to side, pressing her cheek against Lena’s, her thumbs rubbing circles on her lower back, over the worn NCU t-shirt she wears for bed. And it is somehow perfect, the warmth coming from the alien is comforting, protective. Their bare feet padding over the wooden floor, lavender and vanilla filling her nostrils.

After a few moments, Kara leans closer to Lena’s ear.

Meet me halfway from your side of the bed

“I’m sorry for not listening to you, you’re right I throw myself head-first into dangers all the time, it’s easy to forget that I have people guarding my back” she breathes, barely audible. Her hot breath tickles slightly.

“I sometimes get this wild idea that I have to be there for everyone and be the hero every moment, every step of the way, it’s in those moments where the world’s weight seems heavier than ever on my shoulders, and I get caught up in it”

“I should also apologize, sometimes is easy for me to forget that you have a huge sense of duty, that I love, and that you feel responsible for everyone in this city” the CEO answers just as quietly, her breath tickles Kara’s neck.

She pulls back a little to stare into sapphire-blue, the one she never gets tired of, she doesn’t think she ever will “but I want you to know that it is not a burden that you have to carry on your own” it’s tender, breathily. She starts scratching Kara’s nape and playing lightly with the baby hairs there, “that’s what you have us for, darling, to share the weight, knowing that we love you and will always stand by your side in your crusades” She turns her head slightly and places a feather-like kiss on a tanned cheek.

Roll over, baby, oh

Roll over, baby

Kara closes her eyes and tightens her hold around her lover’s waist, placing a kiss on the top of her head when she feels the CEO snuggle closer and bury her face on the crook of her neck again, she knows it makes her feel safe. The only thing they hear ins the melody of the song, still playing on the reporter’s phone, and each other’s heartbeats.

Just let me pour you a glass of wine

I’ll sit right here, you can say what’s on your mind

“I’m always terribly afraid of losing people that are under my protection, I get so blinded that it’s easy for me to lose sight of what’s really important, of those who truly love me for being Kara, not Supergirl” the reporter confesses after a few silent moments. “I won’t put you in that position again, Lee. If it were you the one who throws themselves into danger, I’d probably lose it, and it was selfish of me to think it’s any different from you” she croaks, her voice thick with emotions and unshed tears. Unable to look at the green-eyed woman, she buries her face into dark strands of hair.

I know you know I’m on your team

You tell me I got work to do and I agree

“I know you are this powerful being that most of the times can handle herself properly and independently, you are a miracle by yourself, but that doesn’t mean that you are invincible, and asking for help is okay, darling” she scolds gently, knowing that it’s sometimes hard for the hero to admit vulnerability, she turns her head and places a tender kiss on a strong shoulder. “And you’ll always be my Kara, that clumsy reported that stumbled her way into my life, who gets easily flustered, but also, someone whose heart is so big, filled with love, hope and compassion for all, I admire you, every day I am to be as good as you are, and I’m grateful to have you in my life, I wouldn’t want it any other way”, it is admitted shyly, with a dimpled smile that is specially reserved for Kara. Green eyes shining like perfect emeralds. They continue swaying slowly, the city blocked out, everything else forgotten.

Tomorrow we’ll be just fine

But I want you tonight

Roll over, baby, don’t be upset

How can you fall asleep when you feel like this?

“Sometimes I can be a handful, but I promise I’ll keep working to be better for you, I want you in my life, Lee, now and forever” she says confidently, moving a little so she can stare deeply, intently, into emerald-green eyes. The bluest eyes are staring at her so lovingly that her knees buckle slightly, however, the Kryptonian easily holds her and keeps her upright. Pulling her impossibly closer.

The love she is seeing in blue is stronger than anything the CEO has ever experienced in her life, like drowning into cotton clouds, an open summer sky, knowing that she’ll never let her fall, being loved so freely and fiercely makes her melt every single time, her heart swells with love and she feels like she’ll combust momentarily.

Both women start leaning in slowly, green never leaves blue.

So, come over, baby, let me hold you instead

Meet me halfway from your side of the bed

They meet in the middle. Their lips connect into the sweetest of kisses. It’s heartwarming, floaty, and it never seems to get old, no matter how many kisses they’ve shared over the years. It still make their arms fill with goosebumps, and her fingers tingle, turning into a puddle at the simplest brush of lips. Soft lips move against each other in another entirely different kind of dance, with practiced ease they fall into a well-known rhythm. Kara pulls away first and doesn’t hold back the satisfied sigh that falls from her lips. Warm air caressing plum lips, which curve up into a smile, before Lena can even process it, she’s leaning in again, capturing pink lips into another loving kiss.

Roll over, baby

Roll over, baby

Roll over, baby

When they finally separate, their foreheads are resting together, it no longer matters if one of them was reckless and behaved rashly, what matters is them, now, holding onto each other, choosing one another, in their night clothes, swaying in their living room under the midnight moon. The city and heroism, they hold nothing against them, in this moment.

“I love you” Kara whispers into Lena’s ear.

“I love you, too”

Come on, meet me halfway

From your side of the bed

Come on, meet me halfway

Let me hold you instead

[rawstfish]

Mall of Verdanks Chapter 2

Warning: none, unless you count long as one

Gaz glared at Soap.

“Any actual questions, FNG?” He said through gritted teeth.

“That was an actual question.” It was like Soap was challenging him, but it would be the lamest challenge anyone could witness.

“Sure. Anyways-”

“Gaz, I need to see you in my office.” A deep british voice interpreted them. Both men whipped their heads around. Soap could feel his face heating up at the mere sight of his boss. As quickly as he turned his head, he lowered it.

Fucking hell I forgot he was here. Dumbass why would he not be here? He’s the fucking owner of the store, and now look at how your acting. He hired a fucking employee not some blushing teenage girl. He still hung his head low, his thoughts broken by Gaz’s voice.

“I’m training the FNG right now sir.” Soap widens his eyes at his response. How big are these dudes balls to talk to the boss like that? There’s no way his boss isn’t about to take his fucking head off.

“Office now.” The bearded man left after that. Soap could have Gaz mumble under his breath, he could barely make out the words “horny bastard”.

“Excuse me, just stay next to Roach.” Gaz unclipped his walkie talkie from his slightly baggy pants.

“Golem, tell Alex to come over to the cash register in the flower department.” With that Gaz left without any more words. Soap finally lifted his head, looking over towards Roach. Actually looking at his face, you could see his bloodshot and watery eyes. His face the most relax thing Soap has ever seen.

Is this dude fucking high right now? How did he even check that person out? Soap waved his hand in front of his face. Roach had no reaction, he wasn’t even blinking.

“Hey.” Why did Soap think that would work?

“Hey!” He persisted.

“Don’t fucking yell at him!” A force deep voice snapped. Soap Jumped, immediately turning around to face the voice. He was met with a short man, wearing a skull mask. He also had dark sunglasses covering his eyes.

“He just high off his balls right now, now leave him alone.” The new short man continued to snap.

“Why the fuck is he high while working in the first place? And where did you come from?” If Soap was to be honest, he was scared of this little man.

“Because he can, and I just so happened to walk into you yelling at my friend.” His sunglasses- covered eyes found Soap’s tag.

“Oh you're the FNG. A little tip for you then, don’t fucking yell at Roach or me.” Soap could feel his intense glare burning a hole right through him. Even walking away into the back, the man held his glare. Soap felt like he would never escape his glare.

What the fuck is wrong with that dude? Why is he wearing a skull mask? And why am I feeling so intimidated by him? Come on Soap, he’s basically a fucking twink. You could take him easily any day. Once again his first day is going down the shit drain. His ears were filled with heavy footsteps and dragged boots. He broke away from his thoughts being met with a much taller man this time.

“Are you gonna yell at me too?” He questioned the stranger.

“You met Ghost didn’t you?” An American voice questioned back.

“That’s his fucking name?” Soap knew he must look so dumbfounded

“Well his real name is Simon, but he persists that everyone calls him Ghost. Anyway, don't mind him, he’s just short-tempered.” Both of the men snickered at that. Ghost was short-tempered indeed.

“Ahem, You're the FNG right?” There goes Soap’s one second good mood.

“Yeah.” Just when soap thought he would like this guy.

“What’s with the sour look? If it’s the nickname, don’t get caught up about it. We were all the FNG once.” This man tried to reassure, but Soap still wore the sour look.

“Um, do you know why Gaz asked for me, I don’t see him over here.” Great now Soap made this man radiate awkwardness.

“Price called him to the back while he was training me.” The American giggled and shook his head.

“You’ll be stuck with me for a bit then. What do you know so far?” Soap was thankful that the overwhelming awkwardness was starting to leave the man. He would have beaten himself up if he made this dude hate him.

Soap gave him a recap of what Roach had visually teached him.

“Perfect, the next customer that comes over is yours then.” Somehow every person in the mall has perfect timing, because an old lady with packets of flower seeds slowly came up.

----

What a fucking first day. I would have never guessed a plant store, would be so fucking exhausting. No scratch that, I never have guessed assholes run plant stores. Soap clocked out, ready to finally go home. However, he was stopped by none other than Price.

“Before you leave, I need you to get a cake for me.” His gruff voice broke the silence, his blue eyes piercing Soap's own blue eyes.

Why did I need to get a cake right before I leave? Can’t he just get it? He desperately needed to lay on his bed, filled with the stray cats he brought in.

“Okay.” Soap reluctantly agreed.

“It’s from the bakery across from us, and it's under the name Price. I already paid for it.” With that, Price took his leave. Soap stood questioning that if Price hadn’t paid already, would he have made Soap pay for it?

----

Soap was face to face with bright, blue, neon lights. The word “Spetsnaz” being written out. He pushed the glass door open, a bell following his movements. He thought the fluorescent lights in the shop were bright, but this place is proving him wrong. The color white over took his eyes with the help of some blue. Little white, metal chairs were paired with the same styled tables.

There was a skinny man at the front counter, playing on his phone. A broad man wearing a completely black mask stood behind him, chatting with a man who was small in every way and a net hanging over his face.

“Ahem, I’m here for a cake. It’s under the name Price.” Soap nervously said, the two masked men immediately stopped talking and looked up. Their cold eyes staring Soap down. He wasn’t going to move an inch from his spot at the door.

“Oh, you must be the FNG!” The man working the front excitedly stated.

Does everyone in the fucking mall know that term? Soap’s nervousness was instantly placed back with the irritation he’s worn all day.

“Let me go get that for you.” The skinny man left, his big head the last thing Soap saw of him. Great, now he was left with the scariest man he has ever seen. He held his head down, too afraid to even accidentally make eye contact.

“How was your first day? They tear you up already? You look like the type to plead and beg for mercy at the littlest amount of pain.” A thick austria accent said, but he couldn’t tell which man it came from. Whoever it was, made a sharp shiver run down Soap’s spine.

“You're not going to answer him? Trying to play the rule of the strong, silent type?” This time a heavy, raspy russian accent was directed at him. Soap has never wanted to leave a place so fucking fast. He felt like he had to reply now, who knows what would happen if he didn’t.

Before he could get any words out of his mouth, the skinny man had returned.

“Don’t mind these two, they’re all bark and no bite. Well, except for Krueger.” He could probably sense Soap’s fear. Hell anyone could have honestly.

“Excuse me? When have I ever been “all bark and no bite”, Rodion?” The broad, russian man spoke. At least Soap knows whose voice is whose now.

“To me.” The Rodion guy did a little pose and blinked his eyelashes in response.

“I hit you at least once a day.” The bigger man deadpanned.

“But I know it's out of love and not hate.”

“Yet you still cry about it.” You could feel the smirk on his face.

“Nikto!” Rodion cried, going to kick him but missing completely. The two masked men laughed at him.

How can that tiny guy be so fearless around these two. Now I’m fucking scared of him too. This mall has some seriously fucked up people. Soap quickly walked up to the counter.

“Can I have the cake now?” Soap finally dared to utter words.

“Oh yes, I’m so sorry.” Rodion put the cake down and turned back the mask men. Soap has never grabbed a cake so fast in his life. The sounds of the three dudes followed him until the door.

----

“Price, I have the cake. I’m sorry if I took too long.” Soap was beyond glad to be back in the back rooms. The color gray was never so soothing.

“I’m in here.” Price's voice came from the breakroom.

Upon entering, Soap was attacked by playful colors of tiny confetti. If he didn’t have a tight grip on the cake, he would have for sure dropped it.

“Happy first day, Fucking New Guy.” Soap’s eye twitched at that. The break room was filled with, what Soap could assume, every employee in the store.

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

Criticize is very much welcome :)

[xbunnybunz]

Daybreak (1/?) [Wolf Keum x Reader x Alex Go]

Summary: The day brings to you Alex Go, and in the night, Wolf Keum. Your past is inescapable. They build you up and tear you back down, but this is what you need to survive.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama

------

“And why not?” You ask, cheeks flushed and heart pounding in your chest. “Why not me?”

When he looks at you, there’s a certain kind of disregard in his eyes. The hazel twinkles like stars, you think. Bright yet so far away. He doesn’t answer you and turns away to nurse his drink instead.

His friends chortle and you pretend not to notice, but a burning humiliation creeps up your cheeks and you can’t discern if it’s from the alcohol or the embarrassment of so many eyes on you at once. In the periphery of your vision, you can see yourself in the clean reflection of the windowpane, darkened by night, speckled by stars.

There’s muted conversations and the clicking of dirty silverware on fake china, of beer cans falling over and clattering hollowly with the floor.

“I just want to understand you better.”

You can’t wrap your mind around why you’re trying so hard to talk to him. It shouldn’t matter, you shouldn’t care. That’s what you tell yourself, but your feet are erected in the ground like a permanent structure and they wont budge, no matter how many times you beg them to leave, leave, leave.

“Wolf’s been having a shit day. I’d recommend you get the fuck outta here before you give us a reason to make it any worse.”

Your resolve embodies itself in your shoulders. They stiffen with frustration, sturdy as an iceberg- then drops suddenly, melting away all at once like cold water running down your back.

The man throws another wayward amber glance in your direction, as if sizing you up for a fight. You would’ve laughed at his belligerence if you weren’t so sure he’d knock out your teeth.

“I’m sorry. I was getting ahead of myself.”

You can feel the stares of the other patrons on you back, but none of them sear you, hot and daring, as much as the pair before you. His glasses catch in the light, and for a brief second you see yourself again.

Desperate, and pathetic. Looking and looking.

Your legs unstick from the mosaic tiled floors, but they feel leaden. You don’t care though, as long as you can move you should go.

You let your legs carry you out of the restaurant, but it feels more like conscious dragging at this point. You think he watches you on the way out, and you wonder if you’ll regret any of this tomorrow.

A tinkering bell chime announces your re-entry to the crisp nighttime air, but the evening breeze does nothing to ease the pounding of your head or your heart. You take a few staggering steps away from the eatery and lean against the brick wall, appreciating the cool sensation washing over your burning cheeks.

The moon is bright and it irritates your eyes. A fist clenches at your side and you grit your teeth at the sting of nails pressing into the soft flesh of your palms. Pain shoots up your arm and you release your grip, but remain unable to get his shitty visage out of your mind.

Purple hair, hazel eyes, red blazer.

“Fuck…”

Your foot meets the wall and you hope that at least a bit of sediment will chip off but it does not yield.

Purple hair,

“Fuck.”

You kick the wall again, this time with more vigor.

Hazel eyes,

“Fuck!”

A puff of dust arises from the wall and you’re unsure of whether it’s from your shoe or the building, but you don’t really give a shit anymore.

Red. Blazer.

You feel your hand curl into a fist again, tight enough that your whole arm shakes with it. You can’t get it out of your head, and you hate that you can recite it from memory.

“FUCK!”

You reel your arm back and send it flying to the wall, itching for the crunch of knuckles, the bursting of skin, the trickle of blood.

But another hand stops you.

It catches your fist in a hand larger than yours, wrapping around it and easily encasing your hand in his.

You look up and expect to see those burning eyes again but are instead faced with a stranger, a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“That would’ve hurt.”

You don’t realize your vision is blurred until you try to make out his features. Your fist is still captured in his grip and when you move to pull it back, he hastily releases it with a blush on his pale features.

“Ah, sorry. I just grabbed you without thinking.”

He says this as you wipe away your tears with your sleeves, silently admonishing yourself for losing your temper in public and letting a stranger witness it, but he doesn’t comment on it.

He looms a beat longer than necessary and you wonder why until you feel yourself swaying back and forth.

You're not sure what to say to fill the silence, so you remain quiet. Luckily, he seems to take the hint and hops in.

“I’m Alex Go. From Eunjang High School.”

You think it sounds familiar. It might’ve been one of the schools that all the delinquents came from, but you couldn’t be sure.

“I’m (Y/n).”

You shift in place and cross your arms across your body, eyes trained on the concrete rippling below your heels, wondering if you should’ve opted for flats instead.

Alex furrows his brows at your guarded pose and chews on his lip, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Are you feeling okay? You were really going at the wall here, before.”

There’s a twinge in your heart at the hint of concern in his voice, and can’t help the snark that seeps into your response.

“Yeah. I’m tipsy and just got humiliated by some jackass, but other than that I’m cool.”

The slur is hard to ignore. Harder to ignore than the clicking of your heels against the sidewalk, harder to ignore than the hiking hem of your dress. You can almost swear you see Alex gulp, sweat beading at his temples in an earnest attempt to keep his eyes on your face. You think its cute, but opt out of telling him lest you give him a heart attack.

“O-oh, right…” He trails off, palming at the back of his neck. “Sorry to hear that.”

You slide your eyes down his tense body and watch how your shadows cross on the floor, dark and muted on the concrete. The moment of silence stretches into a minute, and you decide it’s time to retire for the night. You brush past him, a lopsided smile fixed on your face.

“Well, I should be going home now. It’s getting late and we’ve both got school tomorrow, don’t we?”

You turn back to look at him, but all the sudden movements are too much for your slogging brain. A piece of your heel snags in the sidewalk and you stumble a bit before catching yourself, sending Alex into a frenzy. He’s at your side in a second, arms hovering around your shoulders and waist in case you take another tumble. He isn’t touching you, but the boy is like a damn radiator giving off all this heat.

So much for a suave exit.

“I uh,” He gives a half shrug and a shy grin. “I have late classes tomorrow. I can walk you, if you’d like?”

You look at him and only then does he realize how close he is to you. He makes the motion to back up, but a hand snakes out to snatch his sleeve, anchoring him in place.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

He gulps again, and this time you know it happened because you can see and hear it. His eyes are green and glassy. You can see the reflection of the world in them, and you like it.

“Alright,” He says, a bit breathily. “Lead the way, then.”

The entire way back was filled with light conversation, and Alex repeatedly asking if you wanted his shoes after you took off your heels.

You ask about his friends and learn about “Big Ben” Park, Gerard Jin, Eugene Gale and the enigma Gray Yeon.

He asks about your hobbies and learns of your prospects to become a world-renowned writer, or an Olympic wrestler.

When Alex laughs, you feel your lips curl up too and it’s like forgotten magic.

When you arrive at your humble apartment, all the unpleasant thoughts and memories of tonight, and many other nights before this one, have been placated.

“This is me.” You turn to face him, heels dangling from your fingers.

You know you must look deranged, lip color smeared from the drinks and eye makeup smudged from the tears earlier. But in the pale glow of the flickering, yellowed streetlights with Alex, you feel rejuvenated.

“Thanks for accompanying me, Alex Go.”

Alex smiles, a soft, charming blush on his cheeks and brushing over the light scar across his nose, not expecting you to use his full name.

“Yeah, of course. I’m glad you made it back alright.”

He shuffles in place but doesn’t turn to walk away. You wonder if he has anything to say, and when he doesn’t speak, you decide you do.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

You see his green eyes widen a bit before you’re enveloped in the pressed material of his school uniform, the stiff blue collar pressing into your face. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your head into his neck. He smells like freshly cut grass, and pine, and he’s warm compared to the autumn air.

He stutters, but doesn’t push you away, hands poised to return the gesture. You pull away before he can gather his wits about him.

“Thank you. Seriously.”

You press a gentle, chaste kiss on his cheek. A sign of hope, of hope to persevere. His skin feels good on your lips, and his hair tickles your nose. When you pull back, you fold both hands behind your back and give him a cheeky smile. You stand to admire how the scarlet blush creeping up his neck complements his fair skin and tender gaze. He reaches a hand up to hold his cheek, eyelashes fluttering.

“T-thank you…” he trails off, then pulls himself out of his reverie, catching his mistake.

“I mean-! You’re welcome! It wasn’t any hassle, really.”

You giggle and step back, admiring the gleam in his eyes and the subconscious quirk of his lip. Another step back, then a wave goodbye.

“I hope I’ll see you around, Alex Go.”

You slip back into your apartment without another word, the door clicking closed behind you.

Alex lingers, flustered, watching the spot you once stood. Under the moon illuminating the street, through the brush of reddening leaves, he lets out a breathy sigh.

He hopes so too.

[chaotic-noceur]

but your lies were so sweet

[ day 6 | angstageddon masterlist ]

pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x reader

summary: In his time with Statesman, Jack has gone by many names. In your experience, they were all just aliases for the same liar.

warnings: false identities, lying, no fluff all angst

credits: shout out to my loves @din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm for beta reading and nudging me back into writing this! Also, some inspiration was taken from Headspace by Lewis Capaldi.

a/n: ahhh we’re almost at the end of this week of pain 😭To those of you who have been reading these every day, I applaud you for sticking with us through it all, and thank you for all the love and support! To those of you who have just found this, welcome to the angst! Once again, i apologise for the pain but this ones pretty gentle considering Javi’s....

gif by @ithinkwehitametaphor

“Just tell me why!” you begged, grabbing his hand harshly. “I just want to know why Alex.” He tugs his arm free from your grasp as he spins round to meet your gaze. “Just tell me that and I’ll-” you swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat, “tell me why and I’ll let you go.” He clenches his jaw. 

He hadn’t meant for it to go this far, hadn’t meant to hurt you. But one thing had led to another and before he knew it… he’d found himself living the life that he had always wanted. Except it wasn’t real. It wasn’t really his. Worst of all, he’d dragged you so far into his fantasy that you were bound to get caught in the crossfire when it inevitably came crashing down around him. 

“Look, sweetheart,” his shoulders drop with a sigh. “There’s something you should know.” His voice is hushed, tired. You fold your arms in an attempt to not lose your patience. “That night you and I met? That wasn’t any mistake.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you take a step towards him and he eyes the closing of space between you. You ignore the frown forming on his face. “It’s like the stars had aligned and you waltzed into my life and I was falling for you befor-”

“No, sweetheart. You’re not hearing me.” His duffle bag falls onto the floor with a loud thump as he grasps you by the shoulders. “Our ‘accidental meeting’ was no accident.”

“Wha-”

“The night we met, the thoughtful dates, the entirety of our relationship-” he lets go of you to wave his arm out for emphasis, “it was all one big set up t’ get you t’ fall for me. It ain’t nothing personal darlin’,” he shrugs cooly, “it’s just the job.” 

The nonchalant tone in his voice makes your blood boil and you clench your fists at your sides. “What are you talking about?” 

He deliberates keeping the act up, or spinning up a new lie. Either way, the damage has been done. But the dejected look on your face, the innocent glimmer in your eyes… it stirs something in him that he doesn’t want to address. Not now. Not while he had a mission to complete. 

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that urges him to tell you the truth. To give you some semblance of closure. You deserved that much. 

He sighs before he speaks. “My name isn’t Alex, it’s Jack.” He watches as confusion blooms across your features. “Now I can’t in good faith tell you what it is I do for a living but I sure as hell ain’t no pilot. I don’t li-”

“No.” You bring a hand up to stop him as the pieces of the puzzle start falling into place. “You told me- you- you were so-” you shake your head in disbelief as you stumble back, strings of mumbled ‘no’s falling from your lips. Your hand clutches the door handle for support. He watches as you inhale shallow breaths, your eyes darting across the floor.

“I thought you loved me,” you whisper finally. He would’ve missed it had he not been paying you so much attention. 

“I only told you what you wanted to hear darlin’.” The weight of his words crash into you with full force and you struggle to breathe. You clutch a hand to your chest, clawing at the invisible knife that’s stabbing at your heart. “You don’t know anything about me, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!” You throw yourself at him and shove him hard. He stumbles into the hallway until his back hits the wall. “You have no right to call me that!” You sneer. Turning away from him, you shake your head in disgust. You pace across the walkway as you compose your thoughts.

Eventually, you stop in front of your open door as you turn your head to look at him. When you speak, there’s a calmness to your voice that makes his stomach lurch in disgust. “You talked about wanting a love that lasts. A love so strong that you would do anything to keep it but you know what?” You raise your eyebrow at him tauntingly. “A man like you?” You scoff. “You’ll never be worthy of a love like that.”

You step over his discarded duffle bag before slamming the door shut behind you. Tears well in your eyes as you lean your back against the stained wood. Your shoulders drop in defeat as you slide to the ground, silent sobs wracking through your body. You’d fallen for the ghost of a man, a creation of your imagination—of his. But why did the pain feel so real?

Through clouded eyes, the photo frame sitting on your shared bookshelf catches your attention and something in you snaps. 

You storm across the room and hurl the offensive object at the wall. The shattering of glass rings out in your ears but it’s not enough to drown out the pain in your chest. Your glare fixes onto the collection of books the pair of you had started and you grit your teeth at the sight. Angry sobs echo across your empty apartment as you yank books of the shelf. 

You want every trace of him gone.

●●●●

When Jack gets back to headquarters, he’s greeted with proud smiles and shoulder clasps. Champagne gives his usual debriefing speech but Jack can’t stop your words from echoing through his mind.

You’ll never be worthy of a love like that.

Deep down, he understands that they were words said out of anger. He wants to believe that you didn’t mean them. But a small part of him can’t help but wonder… maybe you were right. No matter what he did, he never seems to be able to save the people he loved from getting hurt. 

The truth is, he’d never meant to fall for you or to have his affections returned. But the longer his little charade went on, the more he felt himself losing himself in the make believe of it all. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed the feeling of redamancy until you started loving him back. 

The thrill that had shot through his body with every gentle touch you gave him. The warmth that filled his chest with every smile you sent his way. It felt like the first balmy sunbeams of spring thawing the frozen ground after a long, icy winter. He had relished in the feeling - the relief of knowing he hadn’t gone completely numb to all emotion. He got so caught up in the bliss that he almost forgot about the hurricane of deceit that loomed over his head, threatening to make landfall at any moment.  

●●●●

Years later, when his muscles are stiff and his mind heavy with the burden of past missions, he’s finally ready to surrender his code name. He’s helped bring down countless criminal organisations and he was done. He was tired of the continual fighting; tired of the secrets and lies.

He loved his job, don’t get him wrong. The Statesman gave him a home when his had been so cruelly stolen from him. They gave him a purpose when he felt nothing more than blind rage. 

But he never quite managed to quench the tiny fragment of him that longed for a normal life. A life free from the looming threat of violence and death. A life where he has a local bar & grill and they know his order off by heart. He always wondered what his happily ever after looked like. He hopes he still has the chance to find out.

The months with you feel like a distant memory now, but the emotions remain. At times, he thinks he sees your face amongst a sea of strangers. He thinks he hears your voice, lulling him to the land of dreams. He thinks he remembers the taste of your lips against his, but he can’t be sure.  

●●●●

Glancing to the numbers by the door as he crumples the sheet of paper in his grip. He straightens the leather jacket before delivering three firm knocks against the door. The silence that he’s met with allows for the doubt to sink in.

Did you even want to see him? What could he possibly say to you to make up for the hurt? What if you’ve moved on? What if this just stands to cause you more pain? What if you hate him? You have every right to hate him. He hates himself for what he did to you. 

A metallic clinking jolts him from his thoughts and he reaches instinctively for the ghost of his lasso as he turns. His breath hitches when his gaze falls on you. The expression you wear is somewhere between anger and hurt and he doesn’t know which one he hates more.

You stare at each other for a quiet moment before both attempting to speak at once. Your overlapping voices form an abrupt dissonance that startles even yourselves.

“I wanted to-”

“What are you-”  He clears his throat awkwardly and you bring your arm up, gesturing for him to continue.

“I owe you a formal explanation,” he states. You scoff quietly. He owes you a lot more than that. “Perhaps we could talk in a more… private setting” He eyes the neighbouring doors suspiciously. A raised, unimpressed eyebrow is your only response. “The things I need to say… they aren’t for the public ear.” You roll your eyes at him. There was always some secret with him. When you fold your arms across your chest, he softens. “Please.”

A part of you hates him. It wants to scream and hurl insults at him until your throat is raw. But a bigger part of you needs to know why he had left. What he’d meant when he said it was ‘just the job’. Why he’d lied to you the whole time.

There’s a slight downturn in his lips that makes the rope around your heart tighten its grip and you want nothing more than to cut yourself free. But there’s a sliver of vulnerability in his eyes that makes it difficult to hold your anger.

With a sigh, you pick your dropped keys off the floor, step around him and key the door open with more force than necessary. You hold it open for him before leaning against the other side. 

Jack looks around awkwardly as he takes in the signs of you that are scattered throughout the space. He notes the distinctive lack of him. All remnants of him had been wiped clean. Although, he supposes they weren’t really parts of him to begin with. They were parts of the man he wanted to be. The man he will never be. 

The sound of you clearing your throat jolts him from his spiralling thoughts. There’s a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before and he shrinks back slightly, feeling painfully out of place. He can’t recall the last time he was this nervous and he shifts his weight uncomfortably. You drum your fingers impatiently across your folded arm and he inhales deeply before beginning. Come hell or high water, there was no going back now.

“M’ real name is Jack, Jack Daniels.” The drumming stops. You stare at him, dumbfounded. An incredulous laugh threatens to leave your lips - he honestly expected you to believe that that is his name? But there’s no trace of humour in his eyes so you clamp your mouth shut. “I was an agent for a secret intelligence agency known as Statesman. Now, Alex was-” he pauses as he grapples for the right words, “a made-up persona, designed to capture your interest, so to speak.” You inhale sharply, though you hide it well. He continues. “You should know, it wasn’t you that we were after. Your friends were involved with some… suspicious people and we needed t-” you hold out a hand to stop him. 

“What do you mean ‘suspicious’?” You push off the door to step toward him. “My friends aren’t criminals!” He holds his arms up in defence. 

“No, they weren’t. But they were involved with some. It made them suspects. But you…” he looks to you for permission to proceed. You nod stiffly. “You were a tough nut t’ crack. Not even our finest agents could find a damn thing about you and that made you peculiar- an anomaly.” He tilts his head towards you as if congratulating you on a feat. His voice deepens when he says, “we don’t like anomalies,” and you scoff at the tone. 

“So they sent you,” you sneered, failing to mask your appalled tone. 

“There ain’t nothing better than live intel swe-” he stops himself short. He sees the way you start recoiling from him but he keeps going. “It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it had and I truly do apologise for fooling you but we had to know you weren’t a threat.”

Your heart hammers in your chest as the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. Blank pieces start to fill themselves with vivid colours of truth. You were nothing but a pawn on a chessboard being manipulated. Your legs feel weak and you move to sit against the arm of the couch. He follows your movement, turning to you as you walk. There’s a distant look in your eyes and he gives you a moment for the words to sink in. 

“While the night we met may have been a setup-” he takes a hesitant step towards you and your eyes snap up to meet his, “my feelings for you were not.” You narrow your eyes at him and he stops pacing. He observes the subtle clenching of your jaw and he decides to crack open the box that he’d buried a long time ago. He needs you to see there’s a real bleeding heart beneath the facade he’d been forced to weave for you.

“I lost someone very dear to me once, a long time ago.” His gaze dances between you and the objects in the room. “I never thought I’d find someone after her. But then you-“ He stops short. Sighs. Worries his lip between his teeth for a moment before speaking. This all seems so far-fetched now. 

“You were never meant to get caught in the crossfire of all this.” His voice is but a whisper, like he was speaking a sacred confession. There’s a new note to his voice as his eyes flit back and forth between your own, as though studying them for any kind of reaction he could get. “I love you.” 

The room falls silent. Jack swears he can hear the distant ticking on a clock from deeper within your home. His heart hammers in his chest, the resonant beating echoes into his ears.

Finally, you smile. “You wanna know something?” There’s a sinister tone lacing your voice and it sends a shiver down his spine. “I never thought that a lie could sound so sweet,” you chuckle lowly, “until you opened your mouth and said you loved me.”

Jack feels his stomach lurch in response to your words. He always wondered what his happily ever after looked like. He supposes he’ll never know.

——angstageddon tag list

@din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67  @hillarymurray4 @wille-zarr @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin  @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @yespolkadotkitty @chibi-liz05 @scarlettvonsass​ @rpcvliz @cinewhore @basura2319 @theravenreads @mxndoscyarika @jaime1110 @f0rever15elf @pancakepike @phoenixhalliwell​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @apunkpascal​

[echo-bleu]

Soulbond

So, uh, I left you with a terrible cliffhanger last time. And this chapter was meant to be the last, but it grew and grew and grew... The next part will be up tomorrow. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Tracking Alex down took more effort than Isobel expected. He'd thrown his comlink on a table before leaving, and she'd lost sight of his mind soon after he'd walked out of the bar. She'd stayed frozen for too long, and by the time she followed him out the door, after taking care of her devastated brother as well as she could, he was long gone.

She went back inside and grilled his suspicious friends on where he might have gone. Max asked where he'd grown up, but all three of them just groaned and shook their head.

“He wouldn't go there,” Michael muttered from where he was curled up on a bench seat, like all life had seeped out of his body. He was hugging himself around his gaping, whimpering soul. “He hates his family. He told me that, if nothing else.”

Alex had never really talked to Isobel about his family, and he tended to close in on himself when the subject came up. She let it go. “Anywhere else you can think of?”

Maria shook her head. “He hasn't lived in Roswell in over ten years, and as far as I know we're the only ones he's stayed in contact with. Maybe the base?”

“Why would he go there? He's not in the Air Force anymore.”

Maria shrugged. “He might still have friends there.”

“There might be a place,” Kyle said. “But...I don't know if I should tell you. If Alex doesn't want to talk with you…”

Isobel sighed and looked him in the eyes. She could easily extract the knowledge from his mind, but she hesitated. The man was Alex's friend−or something like that anyway−and he was a doctor. He could be convinced. “Look at him,” she pointed at Michael. “Soulmate bonds are strong, and theirs is one of the strongest I've seen. Alex has got to be feeling about the same right now. He could collapse somewhere and be unable to get back up.”

Kyle bit his lip. “Maybe I could go there and talk to him.”

“Take me,” Isobel said forcefully. “Alex is my friend, not just my brother's boyfriend. You haven't even talked to him in ten years.”

“He stays here,” Kyle indicated Michael.

“He's not in any state to do otherwise,” Isobel decided before Michael could process this and protest. “Max, you stay with him?”

Max nodded. Liz couldn't get far from him, so she was stuck there too. Maria exchanged a glance with Isobel, but she had a bar to manage. And she might well not be welcome around Alex right now. Isobel leaned down to hug Michael, who moaned into her ear. “Ssh, I'm going to bring him back,” she murmured.

“I'm sorry,” Michael whimpered.

“You tell him that.” Isobel stood up and turned toward Maria. “I'm pretty sure you weren't a willing participant in this drama, but don't touch him, okay? His soul could try to latch onto anything right now, and if it does, we'll have an even more serious problem.”

“Understood,” Maria nodded. “Take care of my friend.”

“Take care of my brother,” Isobel replied in the same tone.

*

The cabin Kyle took her to was way out of town and in a state of disrepair. “My father left it to Alex,” Kyle explained. "Our lawyer said she gave him the keys before he left with you guys.”

Isobel decided not to question why Kyle's father would leave a cabin in the middle of nowhere to his son's former friend. “How did he drive there?” she asked instead. “He didn't take our rental, it was still at the bar.”

“If he's here, I assume he took an Uber,” Kyle answered.

“Uber?”

“Right, I forget you're not from around here. There's an app, you can ask people to drive you wherever you want.”

They got out of the car. The front door of the cabin was locked and no one answered their calls, so Isobel unlocked it with her powers. “Alex?” she called.

There was a thin layer of dust over every piece of furniture, untouched for six months. It was disturbed in several places, confirming that someone was there. Isobel extended her mental reach and hit a wall that shouldn't have been there.

“Alex!” She rushed forward, blindly finding the bedroom. Alex was curled up on the bed, shoes off and his pants halfway undone like he hadn't had the strength to finish undressing.

He was crying. Not sobs, not whimpers, just tears running down his temples and a scream on his mouth. The pain of someone who had long learned to cry silently. Isobel fell to her knee by the bed, but Alex stopped her before she could hug him.

“Don't touch me,” he warned, his voice shaky but firm.

“Why?”

“Just go, Isobel. I don't want you here.”

Isobel sighed. “Alex, what are you doing? You're in pain.”

Alex laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. Who knew splitting souls was so painful? Voldemort made it look so easy.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about. But Michael didn't mean it, Alex. You know he can be impulsive. He's like a little child sometimes.”

“That wasn't a child's kiss,” Alex pointed out. He full-body shuddered and curled up on himself further, even though it had to be hell on his leg. Isobel instinctively wanted to help him remove his prosthesis, but he flinched away when she tried.

“That was stupid of him. But it doesn't mean he's stopped loving you.”

“That's the problem,” Alex sighed. “He should. He will.”

“What do you mean?” Isobel frowned.

“Deep down, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop since the first day,” Alex murmured. “But I let myself be fooled. I let myself believe I'd found someone who could love all of me.”

“He does, Alex. Michael loves you.”

Alex shook his head. “How can he? He thought he'd found someone who was worthy of him, but I'm not. I can never be. My family has been trying to kill your entire species for generations.”

“Oh, Alex. What your family did had nothing to do with you.”

“I'd be a fool to believe that. My father raised me to be like him. I've fought in meaningless wars whose purpose wasn't any better. All he ever did was groom me for this.”

“You're not your father,” Isobel insisted.

“Maybe not. But it doesn't change anything, in the long run. Michael is going to hate me for what I represent eventually. He'll start resenting me, and we'll just keep hurting each other.”

Isobel sat back on her heels, shocked and lost. Alex's soul was gaping, almost bleeding, uselessly reaching out. She didn't dare touch it, the angry spikes threatened her every time she even looked at it. And yet she felt a yearning, from her own charred soul, to go heal this injured friend.

She heard a noise behind her and found Kyle standing at the door, his face sad. He gestured, as if asking how he could help, but Isobel shook her head. Alex was so convinced of what he was saying, she couldn't see a way to change his mind. She couldn't see a way out of this.

“You once told me it was a choice,” Alex said through gritted teeth. “If it is, then why do I feel this way? Why can't I choose to stay away?”

“That's not how it works,” Isobel said sadly.” I think you already know that. You haven't stopped loving him, and your soul knows that.”

“I'm only going to hurt him.”

“You are hurting him, right now,” Isobel pointed out. “He's as much a mess as you are.”

Alex winced at that and hugged himself tighter. “Then help me,” he murmured.

“Anything for you, Alex. I'll get you back to him. I'll carry you if I have to.”

“No,” Alex sighed. “Help me break the bond. I know you've done it before.”

Isobel's shoulders shook in shock and horror. “No! That was different!”

“Yes, it was,” Alex acknowledges. “But it proves that the bonds can be broken. I need to do this, Isobel. For Michael. He deserves to be free.”

[el-gilliath]

A Not So Easy Choice

Welcome to the kidnapping fic I’ve been teasing. Thank you to @winged-fool and @bestillmyslashyheart for holding my hand, reading and looking this over, as well as telling me no, you are not allowed to kill any more people.

Part 2 Ao3

WARNING: Implied minor character death (Mimi)

He feels everything in him go cold when he gets the texts. Opening them and seeing pictures of Mimi and Alex, bound with the words If you could only save one, who would you choose? Decide quickly, you only have two hours.

He knows instinctively who’s behind it, there’s only one person who would willingly use a woman like Mimi and his own son to try and get to him. He also knows without a shadow of a doubt that Jesse is one hundred percent sure Michael is going to come to the rescue.

A petty part of him doesn’t want to prove him right. But there’s no way he can leave them in Jesse’s clutches. But if he can only save one of them… How does he choose between his girlfriend's mother and the man he’s loved since he was 17. It’s an impossible choice, which means he needs help. He needs Isobel.

He throws himself into his truck and drives to Izzy’s house. She still lives in the house she owned with Noah, since ‘it’s a perfectly good house’. He doesn’t understand how she can handle it, but then again he never understood Isobel’s overbearing stubbornness. But it has saved her thus far, so he will continue to not say anything. But the day she’s ready to move he’ll be there.

But until then he has other things to think about. Like the fact that Jesse is a torturous madman. The drive from Sander’s to Isobel’s normally takes him 20 minutes. He manages it in 10.

He launches himself out of the car as soon as he’s stopped, making sure the doors are closed with his telekinesis as he runs into the house.

“Isobel! Isobel!”

“Why are you shouting, Michael?” She’s her usual haughty self as she comes into the hall from the living room, looking perfectly put together the way she always does.

“Jesse Manes has Mimi and-”

“Slow down, Michael. What do you mean Jesse Manes has Mimi?”

“I got a text. It has a picture of Mimi tied to a chair but it’s not… It’s not just Mimi.”

Isobel gives him a look he recognizes instantly. She’s given him the look many times over the year he’s been dating Maria. It’s a look she started giving him after the first time she watched him interact with Alex. After the first time she felt what he himself feels every time Alex is around. She doesn’t need to hear his name to know who else Jesse has, she can probably feel it through their bond.

“He told me I can only save one of them. And I only have two hours to decide.”

“How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“It’s Jesse Manes,” he replies. “There’s no reason to doubt it. And as I said. Pictures.”

“Show me.”

He does, handing his phone over. He watches as Isobel looks at the text, scrolling through the pictures. He feels the deep sigh she releases as she hands back his phone in his gut.

“You need to tell Maria.”

“How the fuck do I tell her, Iz?”

“You just do.”

He doesn’t want to, but he knows Izzy is right. He also knows Maria is at the Pony, doing paperwork. He doesn’t want to tell her, but he knows that he has to.

“Okay. I guess we’re going now.”

-----

He gets another text on route. Who’s it gonna be, alien? The mother or the ex? 60 minutes left with another picture of the two tied to chairs.

He grits his teeth, inhaling and exhaling sharply as he tries to calm down. He’s mad, worried, shaking. Why is it always him?

Isobel takes the phone from his hand, replacing it with her own hand and holding him tightly. She knows exactly what he needs, his sister, she always does. And with Max still being dead… It’s just the two of them. Even if they are coming closer to the answer to that riddle.

“It’ll be fine, Michael, she’ll understand.”

“Understand what, Iz?” he asks.

“That you have to save Alex.”

He very much doubts that Maria will understand that, her mother is her whole world. And Alex. Alex is more competent than Mimi is, especially now with her confused state of mind. He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do if Maria wants him to save her mother instead of Alex. He doesn’t want to think about it.

But it doesn’t matter, he thinks to himself as he parks in front of the Pony and gets out of the truck. He’ll decide soon.

He strides inside the Pony, opening the door telekinetically as he nears it. He knows Maria doesn’t mind now that she knows about his powers.

“Maria?” he asks loudly just in case, he doesn’t want to scare her atop the shitty news he comes bearing.

“Inventory!” She yells back. He still hesitates in walking forward, hesitates enough that Isobel takes his hand and gives him another reassuring squeeze, their connection radiating with calmness. He squeezes back quickly in thanks before he gathers his everything and walks forward.

Maria is exactly where she said, behind the bar doing inventory. She grins widely, putting down her clipboard and getting out from the bar to greet him. She stops when she sees Isobel, their relations might be better but they’re not even close to friends yet, before visibly steeling herself and continuing to give him a kiss. He turns away slightly, so her kiss lands on his cheek and not on his mouth. He just can’t, right now.

“Hey,” Maria asks, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to tell her. He doesn’t want to see her face. He doesn’t want to-

“Jesse Manes has your mom.” He blurts it out, no softening, no censoring. Just blurts it out.

“What do you mean Jesse has Mom?” her voice is hard now, the furrowing of her brow deepening.

“I mean he has her hostage. And he’s giving me 45 minutes to decide-”

“Decide? Decide what, to save her? To go get her?”

He looks over at Isobel, just a glance to ask for help but Maria moves her head so he can’t really focus on her. He still sees Isobel mouth ‘Tell her’.

“Michael, wh- why are you even here if Jesse has Mom!” Maria’s voice is rising, panic setting in as she picks up on the fact that he’s completely serious. “If this is true you have to go!”

“It’s true, I have proof,” he says, and tries to show her the pictures. But Maria shuts her eyes, turns away and hides her face. He gives Isobel a helpless look, but Isobel just sucks her teeth before mouthing ‘Tell her’ again. Her face is a harder mask now, her annoyance not showing but still felt by Michael.

“I don’t want to see, I can’t see her like that! She’s already so vulnerable, I just can’t!”

“Okay, I won’t show you but Maria, I have to tell you-”

“No!” Her voice is pitching into screams now. “Just go and get my mom! She doesn’t deserve this!”

He wishes he could close his eyes and not be in this situation, not be in this predicament, not be in this place.

He doesn’t know how to choose, doesn’t know if he can. How do people make choices, like these, and live with them.

“Michael, you have to go save my mom!” Maria screams at him. “Please!”

But it’s not that simple. She doesn’t know that Jesse has another hostage. He doesn’t want to know what she would ask of him if she knew that Alex is also in his father's hand. Considering she knows one hell of a lot of what happened in the Manes household when he grew up.

He knows he should save Mimi, save his girlfriend’s mother. After all, Alex is an Air Force Captain, he’s gotten himself out of worse jams than this and Michael knows he’s probably capable of whatever he needs to do to get himself out.

But the thought of leaving him. Of letting him feel alone and abandoned. It reminds him too much of how he felt when Alex had to leave. So how can he leave him when he had the chance not to.

“What are you waiting for, Michael?! My mom needs you!”

Maria is getting decidedly more frustrated, the anger and fear in her voice clear as she yells. She doesn’t understand, he gets that. He might not have a mom anymore but he gets it.

“It’s not that-“

“If you try to tell me it’s not that simple I’m gonna hit you. My mom is in the hands of Jesse fucking Manes, the reason she’s like this, and you’re hesitating when you can go save her!” she seethes. “I know how he treated Alex growing up, I can’t let her stay in his clutches! It’s my mom, Michael!”

He shares another look with Isobel as Maria mentions Alex. Their relationship is not the best since he started dating Maria, though thankfully he and Maria managed to spare their friendship even if his spiral tried to fuck with that too. But Alex will always come if anyone needs him. And he knows, intimately, just how good Alex is at getting himself out of tricky situations. But leaving him with Jesse when he has no idea if Jesse would keep him alive or not, it shakes him to his very core, like acid burning through the inside of his stomach, like holding your hand over a fire as it slowly burns.

“Maria… I-”

“I’ve done a lot of shit, Guerin. Hurt people that I shouldn’t have, for you. I’m begging you, go get my mom. She doesn’t deserve any of this!”

He looks at Maria who’s watching him with tears rolling silently down her cheek. He doesn’t say anything, just swallows hard as he bites his tongue.

“You owe me.”

And he does. For the shit he put her through, for being stupid enough to try to ruin her friendship with Alex when he pursued her without even thinking about that, for all the times he hasn’t paid at the Pony, for all the times he’s taken it out on her and been in a mood when he’s fought with Alex. He loves her, he adores her. He can do this for her. Alex can get himself out, and he has to believe Jesse wouldn’t hurt him. He can do this to make up for the fact that he will always love Alex more.

“Okay. Okay,” he says, a grimace in the shape of a smile on his face as she throws herself in his arms, sobbing and whispering ‘Thank you’ over and over again. Isobel walks into his line of sight behind her, her patented ‘You’re an idiot’ mask firmly on. He knows he should’ve told Maria that it’s not just her mother that’s at stake, but he can’t. He has to keep her happy if he wants to keep her. She deserves to be happy with what she gave up for him.

He extracts herself from her grip a few minutes later, giving her a smile he hopes looks slightly more genuine, but probably doesn’t with the way she frowns.

“I have to go if I’m gonna do this. I need to get the location.” He kisses her on the forehead, cradling her face sweetly in his hands. “Stay with Isobel, you’ll be safe with her. I’ll be back as soon as I have her.”

He nods at Isobel, waiting for her nod back before he lets go of Maria and walks out of there. He ignores the thought of her frown as he texts the unknown number back, writing simply ‘Mimi Deluca’. He ignores it still when he gets a set of directions in reply. Maybe if he can ignore Maria’s frown, he can ignore how much it’ll hurt knowing that he’s leaving Alex to fend for himself. Even though he doesn’t deserve it, even though Alex always comes through for everyone else. He’ll do what Maria asked him to do and get her mom. It’s the right thing to do.

He wishes he could believe it himself.

-----

Maria watches Michael leave with a sour taste rising in her mouth. She was, she is, distressed, but now that he’s gone she knows there’s something he didn’t tell her. Her psychic sense is tingling, has been tingling since he came in but she ignored it when he started talking about her mom. But now she can’t anymore. Not with that grimace Michael had on his face as he left.

“Why did Michael have that look on his face?” she asks as she turns around to face Isobel. Isobel, who always looks impeccable in both manner and clothes, but right now looks a little nauseous as she looks down on the floor.

“What do you mean?”

It pisses her off that Isobel doesn’t even consider that she can see straight through her bullshit. That’s the thing with Isobel Evans, they might not be each other's biggest fan, but they’re far too similar not to know when the other is trying to lie or deflect.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Maria-“

“Isobel. What. Aren’t. You. Telling. Me,” she says. The edge in her tone is hard, and she narrows her eyes as Isobel sighs irritably. But she knows she’s won when Isobel opens her mouth.

“Jesse Manes might have your mother behind one door,” Isobel replies. “But he has Alex behind the other. And by begging Michael to save your mom, you might just have killed Alex.”

The room is silent for a minute, long enough for Isobel to get worried.

She’s deeply relieved that Michael’s already left when Maria lets out an anguished scream shortly after, screaming in anger and grief.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” she yells in between the tears.

“You didn’t give him a chance,” Isobel answers. And she didn’t, with her demands as soon as she heard Michael mention her mother. She still regrets being quite so straightforward when Maria bursts into tears. The only thing she can do is hug her close and let her cling to her as she cries. She just hopes Michael hasn’t lost the love of his life because he thinks he has to do everything Maria asks him to, just because he feels guilty that she almost threw away a friendship for her brother and because he still can’t stop loving Alex, regardless of his feelings for Maria. But Isobel also knows it’s not that easy.

She still really hopes Michael returns with Alex and not Mimi, cruel though it may be. She doesn’t think Michael will survive if he doesn’t.

-----

His heart beats fast as he nears the directions from the text. He can feel it racing in his chest, his breath quickening as he sees the old, decrepit house on the side of the road. He hates that his mind is telling him not to stop, to drive on. To send a text and ask for Alex’s location instead. He hates that he’s unable to let it go, even if he promised Maria.

He wants to go get Alex. He wants, he wants, he wants. But he won’t. Alex can get himself out, he has to. Jesse won’t hurt his son. He really hopes he won’t.

He forces himself to stop in front of the house, getting out of his truck slowly while he listens to his surroundings, listens in a way that Alex taught him to try and make sure nothing bad is hiding around him. He reaches out with his powers too, tries to feel if there’s anything around. But there’s not; as far as he can tell he’s alone. He still approaches the house slowly, carefully, but nothing stops him. Nothing jumps out, nothing seems weird. It’s just an old house on the side of the road, close to falling apart and decrepit as all hells.

It’s creepy. It’s also perfect for Jesse Manes and his own brand of torture.

He opens the, admittedly shabby, front door and looks inside. There’s nothing there. Nothing besides a door to a room that seems to have been switched out lately. The pounding of his heart intensifies, though it’s more of a hard beat than a race now. A hard beat of regret. He pushes onward still, walking over to the door and taking deep breaths. One. Two. Three. The handle is in his hand, and he wrenches it open before he can second guess himself, his telekinesis at the ready. He moves into the room and stops. He can’t help but feel a deep relief course through him.

“Alex.”

The sight of Alex sitting tied up in the chair in front of him makes him want to weep tears of joy. It makes him want to jump in joy and take his face between his hands and kiss him, deeply, truly, as he runs his fingers through Alex’s hair. It makes him want to love him forever.

It makes him the happiest he has ever been before. Before he remembers Mimi. The person he was meant to save. The person he promised to save. Who is now most likely dead. A part of him cries out in fear of what will happen with Maria, now. Now that he’s failed her too.

But Alex is here. Alex is alive. He can’t help but be grateful. It’s who he wanted to save all along.

Alex looks at him with an unreadable look on his face, before he looks down and a soft, sob like sound leaves him. Michael rushes over, talking nonsense as he unties him from the chair.

“Hey, Alex, hey, I’m gonna get you out of here, I swear,” he babbles, helping Alex stand, letting him lean on him as he groans when he puts weight on the prosthetic. Alex doesn’t really say anything, just lets Michael lead him to the car, lets him help him into the car and close the door. He doesn’t say anything as Michael gets into the truck himself and drives away from the old house. Doesn’t say anything as Michael asks him if he’s hurt, or okay, or in pain, just shakes his head or nods where he needs to. It makes Michael feel unsure, makes the grief of Mimi linger in his head because in many ways Alex doesn’t seem happy to see him, just blank. He doesn’t want to know what happened to him before he got there.

“Alex, I-”

“Where are you going?” Alex finally asks.

“I need to go to the Pony. I need to tell-”

“You need to tell Maria about Mimi. Yeah, Guerin, I know it was either me or Mimi. My dad likes to torture me, you should know that by now.” Alex shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Let’s just… Let’s just go.”

Michael can’t really do much more than nod, especially as Alex turns away to stare out of the window of the truck. He wants to console him, wants to hold his hand and make him feel better. He doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to, given that he didn’t actually pick him.

-----

They get to the Pony half an hour later. Half an hour in awkward silence that Michael can’t seem to break, a silence that Alex won’t break. He’s tried, asking him if he needs food or water or if he would prefer Michael to drive him home. Alex has just shaken his head every time. No answer, no noise, just a shake of his head. Michael is worried, so very worried. But he doesn’t want to pry.

“You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” he tries to offer. The derisive snort Alex releases tells him all he needs to know about that suggestion, so he just nods and gets out. Alex is just getting out of the car when the front door bangs open. Maria runs out, tears and hope on her face. She freezes as she sees Michael, as she sees Alex. Michael can see the way her teeth clench, how her hands tighten into fists, how she starts to slightly shake from trying to hold herself together. So Isobel told her then.

“Of course you picked him,” she bites out. “Of course Alex was more important than my mother.”

He looks at her, doesn’t know how to tell her that Jesse gave him the wrong coordinates. If he tells her Alex will hear, Alex knowing he didn’t pick him would be worse than Maria thinking he decided to leave her mother. He won’t think about why that is yet.

“And my mother is left in the hands of Jesse fucking Manes. How the fuck could you leave her with him, Guerin!”

She rages. He lets her. Lets her curse him to kingdom come, lets her yell all her hatred at Jesse and sorrow over her mom at him. He let her down, he knows what. He still can’t help but feel happy that Alex is alive.

“I should’ve known.” Her eyes fill with tears, her clenched hands releasing, her jaw softening. “I knew the second Isobel told me that you would show up with Alex. And I guess I can’t blame you, I know you still love him, after all.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but stops when Alex walks closer to Maria, taking her hands between his. She’s crying openly, big fat tears running in rivulets down her face. But the happy smile she gives him through her tears, her relief to see him makes Michael feel marginally better. Especially when she lifts his hands to her face and lays small kisses on them.

But Alex doesn’t look relieved, nor happy. He just looks full of sorrow and pain. Michael doesn’t understand, especially when a tear slowly rolls down Alex’s cheek as well. He doesn’t know what’s going to come out of Alex’s mouth as he opens his mouth to speak.

"He chose her," Alex answers for him. "He just didn't know Dad switched who was behind which door.”

All the air in Michael’s body stops circulating at that point. His heart beats faster in response, his hands start sweating, his nerves tick behind his eyes. No, no, no no nononononononono.

Alex scoffs. He extracts his hands from Maria’s, whose eyes are wide, shocked and distraught. Just like Michael feels to his very core. “I’m sorry about your mom, Maria. But I’m not sorry I’m alive.”

Michael can only watch in horrified shock as Alex turns and walks away. All thoughts of Maria are gone.

“The worst part is, I would’ve picked you,” Alex says as he stops a few feet off and looks back at Michael. “I always pick you.”

Michael doesn’t think he could feel worse if he tried.

[haloud]

into the corners of the evening

-- ao3 --

Michael comes over on Fridays. It’s a standing arrangement, an inch of solid ground they’ve managed to carve out for themselves. Sometimes he cooks dinner. Sometimes Alex orders in. They play music or play cards or watch movies or make out, hands over clothes, Michael making sure to bump his knuckles across whatever bare skin he can find anyway, just like they might have if they were ever allowed to be just seventeen.

So Fridays start being the best day of the week. Even Buffy looks forward to them—the second the sun starts going down, she sits in the entryway with her ears cocked and her tail beating slowly against the floor until she hears footsteps on the stairs and picks herself up to corral Michael home. When it’s just Alex and Buffy, Alex even lets himself be eager too, smile at nothing, daydream.

Of course, then it just so happens that a Friday turns into one of the worst days in recent memory. He wakes up in stiff agony from a shitty, awful dream, early enough to be stuck staring at the pitch-black ceiling, late enough that he can’t fall back asleep. He keeps his phone and headphones on his nightstand and an array of playlists—angry, sad, happy, wistful, the works—to drive thoughts out of his head and mask noise that makes it hard to sleep, but no matter how high he turns up the volume, the dream persists, the sound of screaming, the sound of crushing bone. His stump is fucking swollen, which just fucking happens sometimes no matter how he fucking tries to take care of it, and it hurts so goddamn bad he should just stay in bed, but he goes to work anyway just to spite his own body and the universe that thinks it can tell him what to do.

Icing on the cake? When he finally grits his teeth and puts weight on his leg (with his crutch—he might be a being of pure spite, but he’s not stupid), he steps hard on Buffy’s foot, making her shriek and scramble under the bed.

By the time Alex has made himself coffee and is ready to leave she’s crawled out to follow him around licking at his hands, but he still spends the whole drive to base with a death-grip on the wheel and aching at the back of his throat.

And that’s just how his morning goes.

When he pulls back into his driveway that evening, he’s so bone-tired he has to close his eyes and breathe and breathe like he breathed his way through physical therapy just to muster the strength to open the door and put his feet on the ground.

He fumbles his keys. Drops them. And before he knows it he’s slammed his fist into the doorframe, a fast and hot expulsion of fury from his brain to his arm to his knuckles at the point of contact.

He’s shaking when he picks them up. Unlocks the door. Lets it fall shut behind him.

Anger is the easy answer. It’s served him well damn near all his life. It lives inside him, less a tenant to his landlord, more a symbiosis. But when he collapses on his couch, shakes his hand out before cradling his head in it, he just—he just—

He should tell Michael not to come. He should ignore that little voice whispering he only loves you because you’re here, tell him no and he’ll be gone, gone against all evidence and faith.

He loves his anger. Keeps it, nurtures it. But still, is he—he is—he’s Manes enough to fear what that anger is capable of.

Buffy pads over, her claws making little clicking noises on the floor. Michael loves that sound, has been known to lay on the floor cooing to her so she walks over to him and he can mess with her paws while she sits all prim and patient and indulging. She lays her head on Alex’s knee and blinks up at him, and he looks through his fingers back at her. Her tongue slowly peeks out—then she’s licking his jeans, soothing him the best way a dog knows how, and Alex is inches from goddamn losing it.

Footsteps on the stairs. Buffy’s ears perk up, but she doesn’t move, just lets out a quiet boof as Alex strokes her velvety ears.

“It’s open,” he calls out. Almost hoping he’s too quiet for Michael to hear and he’ll just…leave. Tomorrow Alex can deal with the fallout.

But no. The door swings open, and a grinning Michael, the whole mass of him, filling the doorway, taking all the air in the room with him, he steps inside and shakes out his curls like he often does when he sees Alex, like he knows, like he knows what it does to him.

“Where’s the welcoming committee—”

He cuts himself off when he sees Alex and Buffy. His grin slides off his face; his eyes go all big; his head tilts to the side. It’s not a bad Buffy impression.

“Hey,” Michael says, so softly Alex wants to scream.

He isn’t. A person who responds to softness well. Never had it before—why should he need it now? For just a second, he misses, with a vicious, spiteful nostalgia, the jagged, rattling Guerin who’d take him on no matter what they did or said the last time, the bite and bark, they’d fuck and that would be that, that could be that, he had a place within himself to put the soft things, deep in the back of his skull.

He keeps the soft things inside Michael, mostly, now. But sometimes he wishes he could snatch them back. Run and hide. Even if it meant drawing more blood.

“Hey,” Alex responds, voice carefully flat.

Michael hesitates before going to take his boots off, eyes flicking up, then down to fidget with the laces, then up again, then down, just waiting for Alex to tell him to go. Alex hates that too. Hates the echo calling him pathetic in the back of his mind, needy and clinging and weak, and god, Alex is just so fucking tired. Of all of it. Of the job where he’s surrounded by people he can’t stand, constantly reminded of his father, of war, of grief and murder. Of the brain that won’t let him get a good night’s sleep and tortures him with words he’d never say out loud. Of every inch of his body that hurts, of what’s been taken from him, of the fight to get it to function on days like today, clawing his bloody way up the slope.

Michael straightens back up. Rolls up onto the balls of his feet, like he might into a kiss. Nods to himself, then Alex blinks his heavy eyes, and Michael is there, inches from him, eyes green and gold and warm. Alex imagines he can already feel the bathwater body heat Michael always supplies, sinking into his skin better than any heating pad or hot soak.

“Bad day?”

“You could say that.”

Buffy shifts her head on Alex’s knee; she stands, sits, licks Alex a couple more times, her eyes staring soulfully up at Michael. Michael ducks his head on a little laugh and pats her head with a good girl.

Michael sits on the arm of the couch and slowly, so slowly, giving Alex all the time in the world to pull away, reaches over to stroke the back of his fingers against Alex’s temple. “Hey. What can I do? Anything, I’m yours.”

“Just.” Alex takes a deep breath. Can’t look at him. “I’m sorry. For whatever I do tonight. You probably shouldn’t have come. I’m going to be shit company.”

“We’re both here. I think we can make something out of that no matter the circumstances, yeah?”

How can Michael just say things like that, every time? It isn’t fair. Especially when there are so many ways he could be proven wrong. So many ways Alex knows how to hurt him, to tear down everything they’re building.

“I’m gone if you want me gone; I’ll give you the space, but you’ve gotta say it. And it’s okay if you do. It’s not like before.”

Michael’s fingers make another slow pass, lingering this time, his thumb gentle on the shell of Alex’s ear, making him shiver at that delicate touch.

Selfish. It’s selfish to want Michael here  even though he’s bound to end up snapping at him, but—would it be so bad? To be selfish? Michael is a caretaker; it’s plain in the way he is with Isobel, even when he takes it too far. It’s plain in the way he keeps candy and coloring books stashed in his Airstream for the occasional kid dragged along by a parent getting their car fixed. And it’s never been more obvious than it is right now, with him practically vibrating to be allowed to take care of Alex.

Hell, maybe this is something Alex can, in some twisted way, do for Michael, too. Make something out of this shitty day.

“I want you to stay,” he manages, voice still flat, but it makes Michael light up regardless, and hell if it isn’t worth it.

“Thank you,” Michael says, and he nuzzles in to peck their lips together. Alex doesn’t let him get away, though, and weaves his fingers into those curls to hold him close for a longer, searching kiss that has Michael humming with joy by the time he pulls away. Alex could hold him tighter. Keep him in place longer. Pull him this way or that, and Michael would go. Something in Alex just settles and purrs at that knowledge.

“I’ll make dinner and bring it to you. Couch or bed?”

“Hmm.” Alex twists a curl around his finger as he considers the question. It’s tempting to just go to bed, get through his nightly routine, and try and forget this day ever happened. But if he stays here on the couch, he has a clear line of sight into the tiny kitchen, where he can watch Michael cooking, hyperactive and hectic, bouncing from counter to cabinet to fridge to stove and back again, Buffy alert and bobbing and weaving at his feet for any scraps. “Couch,” he says, “but I’m not really hungry. Just…sit for a while.”

Michael obeys easily, sliding himself onto the couch beside Alex, urging him to sit back and relax with his broad, warm hand rubbing across Alex’s shoulders and back, taking the tension there with him.

“Go ahead and take your leg off,” he says, eyes shining, “I’ll take care of it. You. Everything.”

So Alex does, and by the time he’s done, a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers has arrived on the side table. Alex takes two, and then Michael coaxes him into laying his legs over his lap, his one hand gently stroking the remainder leg, mindful of its sensitivity and swelling, and the other massaging his sore foot. So talented with his hands Alex tips his head back, lets his eyes shut, and groans his approval.

Minutes later, he opens his eyes again, and he sees—

Michael in profile, his curls messy across his forehead, his eyes hooded as he looks down to watch himself work, soothing a pain Alex hadn’t even realized he was carrying. So content he’s almost smug. A little smile on his face. It’s so simple, a tiny act of love, of service, but it makes a change in Michael. Makes him softer. And this time, anger left sated and silent within him, Alex can be happy about that.

The electric kettle goes off in the kitchen, sudden and hissing, and Alex jumps at the sound.

“Just me,” Michael murmurs, stroking his hand up to Alex’s hip, looking up at him through his lashes with that same contented smile. A couple moments later, a mug floats out of the kitchen and into Alex’s hands. His favorite tea. His favorite mug—one Maria made for him at one of those paint your own dish birthday parties when they were eight. And Michael, bending over to kiss the back of his hand, not even asking for a thank you.

“I.” Alex has to cough, take a swallow of tea, or else he might get choked up. “Had a really bad day.”

It’s stupid—Alex feels a little stupid for repeating himself. Like it’s not obvious. Like he’s some little kid begging for reassurance.

But Michael just says, “Yeah.” And leans over to mush a kiss to Alex’s shoulder, still cradling his legs so carefully in his lap so Alex doesn’t get jostled by his movement. “Thank you for letting me share this part of it. And maybe do a little bit to make the night less shit.”

And Alex strokes his hair, pets him ‘til he’s purring, sleepy eyes still alert enough to watch Alex with fond focus.

“You have,” he says, “you already have.”

[oharaswife]

From Hate To Love – Chapter 3 – Alex Morgan Imagines

A/N: Took me a little bit longer than I expected to write this but here it is, I hope you guys didn’t give up on this story cause I kind of have it all planned in my head.

 W.C: 2k words

Warnings : None? I think.

All mistakes are mine, sorry.

 Anyway, enjoy!

 External point of view

When Alex woke up the next morning, the first thing she thought about was Y/N and the events of the previous day. Her head was buzzing and she felt tired, exhausted even and that probably was because she took forever to actually fall asleep, thoughts of her best enemy clouding her thoughts last night as well. The forward shook her head, in an attempt probably to get her out of system and chose to focus on the fact that her boyfriend was soon going to be here and she would finally feel good, for at least one day. She finally got out of bed, checking the time, and jumped in the shower, knowing she had about an hour before Servando’s flight would land. Once she was ready and felt beautiful enough to stun her boyfriend whom she hadn’t seen in months, she got out her bathroom, and started to make her way downstairs to get breakfast with Kelley and some of the team’s morning birds. She stopped dead in her tracks in the hallway when she noticed a very particular room door opening. She was tempted to hide, not wanting to cross paths at all with the person who she expected to come out of that room but couldn’t find it in herself to move when she saw the bartender from the other night exiting the said room, followed by a Y/N who was only wearing bed sheets around her body. The latter gave her a quick kiss before disappearing in the room again. As the bartender came closer, Alex looked at her, analyzing her features. Her eyes were glowing, she seemed happy and very pleased by how her evening went. And just like that Alex felt her blood start to boil again, because she probably was never going to call her back and that smiley face was soon going to turn into a crying face. Alex shook her head again, out of disappointment this time before she started her way downstairs again, hoping her anger towards the girl would subside eventually. She didn’t want to spend the day thinking about her and ruining the only day she could spend with her love.

 It wasn’t until she was halfway through breakfast messing around with Kelley and Allie, that Y/N showed up, looking pretty exhausted Alex noticed. It didn’t take less than a second for Kelley to start teasing Y/N when she sat down in front of her, next to Ash.

“Oh someone looks like they had an eventful night..” she trailed off wiggling her eyebrows, and even the most oblivious person would’ve understood the meaning of her sentence.

“Yeah, it was fun.” Y/N answer, a slight smirk on her face, as she poured herself some coffee, probably to shake the tiredness away.

“That’s all? Fun?” Ash chimed in, poking the girl as an attempt to get more information out of her.

“Yeah, it was fun.” She repeated. She quickly glanced at Alex, before looking down. Her head filled the memories of her altercation with the girl the previous night, the last thing she wanted to do was give her more reason to be upset with her and risk another fight because in truth she was getting tired of all this. She felt like she was on a raft, like she was lost at sea, constantly battling against raging waves and no matter what she did, there was no way for her to find land or to have one quiet day. So yes, she didn’t want to rant about how she spent the whole evening laughing or how she barely slept because someone wouldn’t let her, not that she’d complain about that. “Anyway, what do you guys have planned for the day?” she quickly changed the subject and just like that no one mentioned her date again. It was clear to everyone she didn’t particularly want to talk about all of it. Alex glanced at the girl, wondering why she was so quiet this morning. She would have thought that logically Y/N would brag about how she charmed the bartender, but she just said nothing, and changed the topic of discussion. It made Alex wonder if it had anything to do with her, and their altercation from the previous day but she didn’t give it too much thoughts as she got up, ready to go to the airport to meet her boyfriend.

“Alex, wait!” she heard coming from behind her as she was about to leave the hotel. She turned around to be met with Y/N’s eyes which for the first time, seemed apologetic somehow. “Look I’m sorry about yesterday. I said some pretty disrespectful things and I shouldn’t have. So yeah sorry.” The girl said, and to anyone it would have been obvious that she truly meant her apologies. But to Alex this whole apology seemed forced, as if she didn’t want to do it but had no choice, which only reminded the forward of how she felt her teammate didn’t care much about how/if she hurt women. So naturally, Alex just turned around, barely acknowledging the midfielder, and just started walking towards her car again.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” she heard Y/N say angrily. “Fuck this shit, I’m done. She’s no queen.” She mumbled which caused Alex to turn around real quick, right before she got in her car, ready to burst again, only to see her walk off angrily with her head down and fists clenched.

 Alex’s point of view

My day with Servando was just perfect. After all the crappy things I’ve been through around Y/N, it felt good to be with someone who I knew loved me with all his heart and who’d put me first no matter what; someone who actually respected me. So as we walked down the street, back to the hotel, hands intertwined after having spend the whole day in each other’s delightful company, I began counting him about my altercation of the previous day with Y/N, and that’s everything suddenly changed. He ripped his hand away from mine.

“For fuck’s sake Alex seriously?!” he yelled, causing some people to look at him. I frowned not quite understanding what had suddenly gotten into him. “Can you stop talking about her for one fucking second?” he added, quickly running his hands through his hand with frustration.

“What are you talking about?” I asked still not understanding everything that was happening. He looked so angry, I had never seen him like this, eyes wide and fists clenched on his side.

“I’m talking about how this is the first day we can actually spend together in weeks and all you’ve talking about is Y/N or how she annoys you or how she doesn’t give a shit about women. All day long!” he said through gritted teeth, bringing his voice back to a normal volume so that people wouldn’t hear us arguing but the anger in his voice never left him.

“That’s not true, babe.” I tried, truly believing that I didn’t talk about her that much.

“It is Alex! It’s always like this. Ever since she joined the team, you’re always talking about her. Every time I call you, you don’t ask how my day went, or how I’m doing, you talk about her; about how she pisses off, about how she is a player and fucks every woman she meets. Every fucking time.” He started walking away, mumbling stuff I couldn’t quite hear as tears started to fill my eyes. I had never realized that he might feel this way or that I talked about her as much as he said. Even when she’s not round Y/N just ruins my life.

“Wait Serv, please. I’m sorry.” I started, trying to grab his hand but he just shoved it back into his pocket.

“I can’t do this Alex. Obviously I don’t give a fuck about who she fucks or when but you do so until you figure out what you want and what your priorities are, I’m done. I’m sorry.” He finally said, and I could feel my heart slowly breaking into a million pieces.  He didn’t turn around and just got into a cab, probably heading to airport to go back, leaving me standing in the middle of the streets, wondering if I had just ruined my relationship because of Y/N.

 ---

External point of view

Y/N jumped in bed, woken up by the violent banging on her door. She got up, getting nervous and honestly scared that something might have happened and that this would be an emergency. And once she opened the door she realized it was an emergency, just not one she was expecting at all. Her eyes widened as she saw none other than Alex Morgan standing on her doorstep. She doesn’t even have time to get a good look at her before the other girl shoves her angrily in the room, slamming the door with her hand once they’re both in the room.

“It’s your fucking fault.” Alex shot through gritted teeth. Y/N was about to respond with just the same amount of rage but when her eyes finally fell on Alex’s face, she frowned noticing something she had never seen before: tears streaming down the forward’s face, her eyes puffy and red. “It’s your fucking fault.” She repeated, but this time the anger was gone, and her voice just sounded sad. That was enough for Y/N’s heart to break. In a burst of confidence, she wrapped my arms around her, not being able to stand the fact that she was crying, that she was in pain; and surprisingly Alex didn’t push her away, not even at first. Instead she welcomed the contact, burying her face in her chest. The contact caused Y/N’s heart to start beating faster than humanly possible. She never expected to be like this with Alex Morgan, engulfed in a hug, and she certainly didn’t expect the way it would feel: warm and soft. She realized right then that she never wanted Alex to be hurt again, whether it was because of her or anyone else. So as she started rubbing circles on her lower back, trying to get her to calm down, Y/N finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said, causing Alex’s eyes to open, but without moving from her position in Y/N’s arms. “Whatever I did, whatever you think is my fault, I’m sorry Alex. I never meant to hurt you.” Alex tensed slightly in Y/N’s arms, not expecting an actual apology. But when she heard those words flying out of Y/N’s mouth, every word filled with guilt and sadness, she realized that maybe she was the one in the wrong,  maybe the heart she was hearing beating in the girl’s chest wasn’t as icy as she first thought it was. Y/N held her close but in a gently way, as if she was afraid of breaking her somehow and the little circles she was drawing on Alex’s lower back were enough to reassure her and make her feel safe. So yes maybe Alex was wrong for hating the girl, but admitting that meant admitting that she was the one who had been petty, who’d been jealous and who’d hated the younger woman for absolutely no reason and she couldn’t have that.

The truth was Alex knew deep down that hating the girl would be easier that loving her, so she pushed her away before walking of the room, not saying a word, leaving Y/N confused and honestly, sad that she lost the warmth of Alex’s body around hers…

 To be continued.

 A/N : Hope you liked it; let me know!!!

 -Kat

[justlightlysedated]

Start from Part One on AO3

part ten of eleven, for @bestillmyslashyheart so sorry for the long wait, i love you!! 🥰💖

*

Alex felt the excitement bubbling inside of him as he spots the Airstream and the truck both parked outside of the cabin, meaning that Michael has come back from his self imposed exile, to pack the rest of his thing, while Alex had been taking Buffy back to the Animal Shelter.

He had gotten a little upset when Alex had mentioned it two mornings ago, but they hadn't really talked about it. 

Alex hadn't mentioned that it was just temporary because he still hadn't been sure that the plans that he'd been making would actually come to fruition.

But after a phone call with a friend he had in Florida, and a visit to the travel agency that Isobel had suggested, he had everything figured out.

All he had to do now was tell Michael.

He turns the keys in the ignition and opens his door, dropping down to the floor and almost tripping in his haste to get inside.

It's only when he closes the door behind himself that he hears the argument.

"I'm just trying to look out for you!"

"Well, don't!"

Alex inhales deeply at the sound of Max's voice and as he gets closer to the cabin, he can see that Max's jeep had been hidden from him by the Airstream.

Alex just looks up to the sky, begging for patience not to punch Max Evans in the face, but all of that flies out of the window when Michael yells again.

"Then stay the fuck out of it!" He says, and his voice cracks a little, desperate and almost terrified, and Alex snaps, moving before he's even aware of it.

The door to the cabin opens with a slam before Alex even gets there, and he can hear Michael's voice again simmering with rage and pain.

"Get out," he says, voice cracking. "And don't fucking come back."

Alex appears in the doorway before Max can even move, and both brothers turn to him in one fluid motion.

Michael's eyes are bright with unshed tears, and his eyes immediately dart away from Alex. 

Alex feels a pang low in the pit of his stomach, but he'll deal with whatever is bothering Michael after he deals with Max.

Max's eyes are blazing with anger and his glare intensifies when Alex turns to him.

"Tell him," he demands, and Alex immediately bristles.

"You have no right to come into my home, start a fight with my husband and then demand something from me," Alex tells him. "I think you've overstayed your welcome."

Max just grits his teeth and takes one step towards Alex. "Tell him that you're leaving again."

Alex exhales roughly, "I already told you that that is not happening."

"I saw you at the travel agency and I talked to the agent who dealt with you and she confirmed that you booked a flight, so please tell me again, how you're not leaving."

Alex stares at Max for one single, stupefied second.

"Fucking unbelievable," he says, huffing out a breath.

He turns to Michael who is looking back at him, and he tries to telegraph with his eyes how wrong Max is, but Michael's brow just furrows.

"This is exactly why I hate living in a small town," he says, taking a step towards Michael, feeling relieved when Michael doesn't move back. "No fucking privacy."

Michael stares at him intently.

"So he's right?" Michael asks, voice wavering just a little, like he doesn't really believe that Max is right, but he needs Alex to confirm that he's wrong.

"Of course I'm righ-" Max starts and then shuts up at collective glare that Michael and Alex turn on him.

Alex turns back to Michael who looks at him expectantly.

Alex exhales and holds his hands out, not stopping the smile that spreads across his face when Michael immediately puts his hands into Alex's.

Alex squeezes his hands and moves in a bit closer, shaking his head a little.

"I'm never going to be able to surprise you, am I?"

Michael tilts his head at him.

"Yes," he says, after a few moments of silence. "I did go to the travel agency tha-"

"I told you so," Max interjects and they both turn to glare at him again.

Alex turns back to Michael who is still glaring at Max.

"The one that Isobel suggested that I go to," he continues, and Michael's gaze snaps back to him, and he can feel Max looking at him too, but he ignores that. "You know with the brochure that she gave us as part of our wedding present?"

Michael's entire posture relaxes and he tightens his hold on Alex's fingers.

There is a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes are bright with excitement.

"I was thinking we start small," he continues. "Since you've never been out of the country. So I thought, Florida."

Michael furrows his brow, "Florida?" He asks skeptically.

Alex just raises an eyebrow and waits for Michael to get it.

Michael's face goes a little slack, and his eyes light up even more, and when he smiles, he looks exactly like the same boy that Alex fell in love with, and it makes a wide smile spread across his face.

"You don't mean-" he starts sounding like he's trying to tamp down his excitement.

"Yes, I do," Alex says, and his smile widens when Michael pulls him close, until their feet are overlapping. "I managed to get us a private tour, and while I know that you don't want to leave the planet anymore, they do have a simulator, and I'm pretty sure that together we can sneak out a few schematics just in case we would ever need to build our own spaceship."

Michael lets his hands go to drag him into a kiss that’s more him pressing their smiles together than anything else.

Michael pulls back, pressing their foreheads together.

“Have I told you that I love you today?” he asks rhetorically, nudging their noses together.

“Nope,” Alex says, wrapping his arms around Michael’s shoulders. “But I know.”

Michael hums low in his throat, and then pulls back like something just occurred to him.

“What about you?”

Alex furrows his brow. “I love you, too?”

Michael rolls his eyes and pushes Alex back a little bit, keeping his fingers wrapped around the collar of Alex’s jacket so that he doesn’t get too far.

“I mean this honeymoon is starting to sound a little one sided.”

Alex just tightens his arms around Michael’s shoulders pulling himself closer.

“Well, I’m gonna get to hack into a secure NASA database and there is a cabana right on the beach with our name on it, and,” he continues leaning in even closer and lowering his voice, until it’s barely a whisper. “I’m only planning on packing some sunscreen.”

Michael makes a low noise at the back of his throat and pushes in to give him a kiss when Max clears his throat loudly.

Alex shuts his eyes.

He had forgotten all about Max.

When he opens his eyes and looks at Michael, it’s to see that Michael also forgot.

They both sigh at once and then let each other go, turning to Max.

There is a look on Max’s face, as though he’s starting to understand something, which makes Alex defensive immediately.

"You were right," he tells Michael, who leans a little bit closer to Alex until their shoulders are pressed together and he can tangle their fingers together.

"I usually am," Michael says, with just a small hint of animosity.

Max rolls his eyes.

"About me never seeing you actually happy," he continues and both Alex and Michael freeze, staring at him with wide eyes.

Max just shakes his head. "I still don't understand any of this, but I don't want to lose you Michael."

Alex feels Michael tightens his fingers around his.

"You're not losing me," Michael says, finally. "You're my brother, and as much as I hate it, it gives you a reason to meddle and be worried, but there really isn't anything to worry about. I swear."

Max looks down at their joined hands and then back up to Alex's face.

"I'm beginning to see that," he answers.

Michael lets Alex go, and herds Max out of the cabin with one arm around his shoulder.

They talk and Alex watches as Michael leads Max to his jeep.

Max says something that makes Michael stop and dart his eyes at Alex, before looking back at Max and then pulling him into a hug.

Alex bites down on the smile that wants to spread across his face and just leans against the door jamb waiting for Michael to come back.

Max leaves, and Michael jogs up the steps and stops right in front of Alex lifting one eyebrow.

He seems to be lighter than he had been when this whole thing started and Alex feels happiness bubbling inside of him at the thought that things were turning around, at least where Michael's siblings were concerned.

"That went much better than my last talk with Max," Alex says, which makes both of Michael's eyebrows raise up.

"You had a talk with Max about us?"

Alex just gives him a winning, innocent smile, and drags him into a kiss when he just continues to look at him expectantly.

Alex manages to distract Michael enough that he gets them across the cabin and almost to the bedroom, when he trips over one of the squeaky toys that he forgot to pack for Buffy.

They pull apart as Michael steadies them, pushing his body flush against Alex's and pinning him to the wall.

They both look at each other, breathless and pink cheeked, and then look at the toy on the ground that squeaks as it inflates slowly.

"So, Buffy," Michael starts and Alex just smiles as he turns back to face him.

"I already filled out all of the paperwork," he says, reaching up and dragging fingers through Michael's hair. "And they'll have everything ready for her to come home with us once we get back."

Michael smiles, bright and happy, and Alex feels so happy he could burst.

"I love you, Mr. Guerin," Michael whispers, leaning in close, eyes darting down to Alex's mouth.

"And I love you, Mr. Guerin," Alex responds.

Michael seals the words with a kiss and Alex responds back enthusiastically, feeling like he's finally, finally home.

[ohmywhump]

Day 31: Today’s Special: Torture / Alt. 11: Presumed Dead (Alex Verus)

previous / whumptober masterlist

CW: Implied torture, blood (not that much but it’s there, so....)

It’s been nine months now since Morden had handed himself over to Levistus in exchange for Alex; since then, the diviner hasn’t heard from his partner again. 

There had been discussions about what was going to happen to Morden’s seat on the Council, but since he hasn’t been officially declared dead yet, Alex in his capacity as his aide had been designated to take his place until further notice; Levistus hasn't been happy at all, but for Alex it had been even worse. Every time he had to attend Council sessions, he was confronted with the man who presumably killed the love of his life and there was nothing he could do.

Coming home one evening he walks straight into the bedroom, too tired to have dinner or talk to anyone. He had considered moving out of Morden’s mansion after Levistus had abducted him, but if he really wasn’t going to see him again, he at least wanted to keep the memories the two of them shared alive. Lying in his bed, he realises rather soon that he won’t fall asleep shortly since his thoughts keep revolving around a conversation he had with Lyle earlier that day. He had been in a remarkably good mood back then, smiling and even humming when he strolled along the corridors and Alex couldn’t help but address him.

‘Oh, I guess I’m just happy because I won’t have to deal with you any longer,’ he had replied, giving Alex a smug grin, ‘Or do you really think anyone would consider you as Morden’s successor on the Council?’

‘Morden won’t need a successor,’ Alex had noted through gritted teeth, ‘I’m not the only one searching for him and as long as he’s still alive there’s no way to give his Council seat to anyone else.’

‘Oh, I guess we won’t have to wait much longer, then.’

With an evil smile on his face he had vanished into his office, but Alex couldn’t stop thinking about the implications of what Lyle had said for the rest of the day.

While turning around in his bed, the framed photograph on his nightstand catches his eye. Aurora had taken the picture of him and Morden dancing when they went to a ball together. Both were wearing suits that Arachne had created for the special occasion - the first festivity they attended as a couple - and Alex still remembered how overwhelmed with joy he had been back then. The way Morden smiled at him in the photo makes him feel like his heart is being ripped apart. He misses him so much and against his better judgement he still believes that Morden might have survived whatever Levistus had done to him. 

‘I miss him too.’

Alex almost jumps at the soft voice coming from the door. 

‘May I come in?’

‘Sure.’

Getting out of bed, Alex walks over to the sofa beneath the window and sits down next to Aurora.

‘I came over because I thought you might want some company, but Emily told me you went to bed early… Well, we both know that you don’t sleep much lately, so I thought I might pay you a visit nonetheless.’

‘You know that I always appreciate your company, Aurora. It’s a bit like… having him back here.’

She nods slightly.

‘It’s even harder with his birthday approaching, right?’

‘Yes,’ Alex mumbles, brushing a tear from his cheek, ‘I even got him a present…’

‘Maybe you’ll get the chance to give it to him.’

‘I don’t think so… One of the other aides made a comment today that makes me think that Morden is…’

He can’t say it. Even though he knows that this is insane, he feels like talking about Morden being dead will make it come true eventually.

‘Who is it?’

‘Who is what?’

‘The other aide.’

‘Lyle Trahelis. Why do you ask?’

‘Because if he knows something about Morden’s whereabouts, I’m going to get it out of him.’

Alex stares at Aurora, completely shocked.

‘What are you-’

‘Don’t ask, Alex. Just this once - don’t ask and don’t try to find out. Morden is my best friend and if there’s even the slightest chance to save him, I’ll take it.’ 

Looking up at her, Alex nods.

‘Take care.’

*

‘Alex, we’ve found him, he’s on his way back.’

‘Oh my God, where is he? How is he? Is he-’

‘Can’t talk now, we’re on our way to the mansion.’

‘We? Aurora-’

Before he’s able to ask further questions, Aurora has ended the call and turned off her phone. Running around the house nervously, Alex waits for her to return - for her, and for the man he loves. It takes her more than four hours, but eventually Aurora walks into the entrance hall, followed by another man with shoulder-length dark-brown hair, rectangular glasses and a blood stained white shirt, who’s carrying Morden in his arms.

Alex already runs to meet them halfway, but Aurora stops him.

‘This’ll have to wait, Alex, he’s unconscious and I need to treat him properly as soon as I can. We need to use your bedroom.’

‘Sure…’

He makes way and watches them walk up the stairs; half an hour later he decides to join them. Aurora is still weaving her spells, but Morden doesn’t move. He’s pale, way too pale… but at least he’s still breathing. His clothes are torn and bloody and he looks like he’s aged at least ten years. Thinking about this, Alex suddenly remembers what day it is - it is Morden’s birthday. While he is still looking at him, the other man in the room approaches him, extending his hand to greet him.

‘I think we haven’t met yet, so... I’m Rahmi, Aurora’s Chosen.’

‘Oh, hello, nice to meet you, I’m Alex… I’m sorry, I guess I haven’t been a good host lately…’

‘Don’t go to any trouble because of me, I’m glad I’ve been able to help.’

‘How did you find him?’

‘Oh, Aurora had a little talk with this guy… Lyle, right? Well, he eventually told her where to find mage Morden and then she called me to get him.’

‘But how did you- oh, right… you’re a space mage, aren’t you? You’re able to teleport.’

‘Exactly. Found him in a cave at the foot of a cliff in Ireland, he was unconscious and would’ve drowned if the water had risen any higher. - Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you…’

Alex shook his head. 

‘I’m just glad you’ve found him in time. Thank you, Rahmi.’

‘You’re welcome.’

*

‘He’ll pull through,’ Aurora declares two hours later.

They’re sitting at the sofa again so they can have an eye on Morden. He still hasn’t regained consciousness, but he looks way better than before. Alex is nothing but grateful to have him back, but there’s still one thing he needs to know.

‘Please tell me - how did you get Lyle to tell you where to find Morden?’

Aurora leans back, runs a hand through her hair - and sighs.

‘Don’t ask, Alex. I’m not too proud of the things I had to do to make him tell me.’

He only nods; this is exactly what he had assumed anyway.

‘Do you despise me now?’

With a snort he shakes his head.

‘I never thought I’d ever say something like this, but no - I’m just glad you brought him back and I guess Lyle deserved what he got.’

Aurora is just about to answer when she suddenly turns around.

‘Alex, he’s waking up. Go to him, I’m sure he wants you to be the first person he sees after all this time…’

He rushes over to the bed, kneeling down at Morden’s side, firmly gripping his hand and waiting for him to open his eyes. When he finally does, he seems disoriented at first, but as soon as he spots his partner, a smile appears on his face.

‘Alexander��’

The diviner can’t stop the tears from streaming down his face.

‘My love…,’ he whispers, pressing a kiss onto the older one’s forehead. ‘I thought I’d lost you…’

‘Someone cheered too soon, I assume… I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’ll probably have to cope with me for at least 40 more years…’

Laughing despite the tears still welling up in his eyes, he looks down at his lover.

‘I’ll gladly do so, you adorable bastard… Happy birthday.’

***

Taglist: @faewhump @whumpinbloom @whumptober2020

[kassies-take]

The Beginning Of The End

Request by @xiaolinweretiger : This comes in story, headcanon, or "If You" form: "Being from the Earth of Brandon Ruth's Superman and ending up on the Earth of Supergirl/with the Legends, where you join them. But you're also dealing with knowing about the upcoming Crisis."

A/n: The crisis is coming! Are you all ready? I’m not. I added my own twist to this request.

Warning: ...

Word Count: 2121

You and most of the League were in the watchtower. A wave of red absorbed and destroyed everything in its path, it was heading closer and closer to Earth. You and the League tried coming up with a plan but so far no use.

The Sector House Alpha, home to the Green Lantern Corps, went offline 10 months ago. Starhaven, Colu, Naltor, and Argo City followed after. Considering that they were light years away this wave was going fast.

When the wave hit you were with Clark in Metropolis to help him with Darkseid when he solar flared. Darkseid in search for his “Anti-Life Equation” has found it but was vaporized 30 city blocks away. You opened a portal to another dimension. Clark watched in horror as his city began to vaporize, they had screamed for Superman to save them but he couldn’t save everyone.

Superman started to gesture and cry for people around him to enter the portal.

“Watchtower to citizens of Earth. We can’t save the Earth but we will do everything to save you.”

“Glitch to Watchtower. I’m trying to make portals around the world. Get to your respective cities and get citizens there!”

As the member of the Justice League you made an oath to put your life in danger to save Earth. J’onn had wisely advised not to create a portal for the whole Earth, but with not many options left you had to. Your hands shook violently, blood percolated from you nose and you could taste the iron from it as you pushed further into your powers.

“Hope is the light that will lift us out of darkness!” Superman said to remind himself.

He closed his eyes and like a beacon of hope he felt his strength regain. A gust of wind flew past you. Clark sped around the remaining Earth and helped people get to portals.

You were losing energy and fast you could feel some portals dying and evaporating, taking your power with it. You pushed past your limits and collapsed onto the floor, all the portals you had started to disappear.

Clark flew back to your location before taking an inter dimensional extrapolator from his suit and portals himself and you to another planet.

“Put the girl down! Put your hands above your head!” Agents surrounded you and Clark.

He wasn’t afraid of getting hurt but your were a lot more vulnerable than you ever were having just solar flared, at least your version of it

“I mean no harm. My Earth has been destroyed, we were saving the Earth with portals, (Y/n)’s portals when she collapsed.”

“Alex! I heard the alarm is everything okay?” Kara flew in from the D.E.O balcony and spotted Clark! “Ray!”

“Kara! You’re alive!” He stood up and hugged the Girl of Steel.

“Yeah, I’m alive. And you’re Superman!”

“Oh well actually I’ve been Superman for quite a while. Does your Superman go by Ray? I’m Clark.

“Uh well our Superman is off world at the moment, but I have a friend named Ray and he looks just like you.”

Alex coughed to bring back the two super’s attention.

“Right, this is my sister Alex.

“Nice to meet you. This is...”

“(Y/n)!” Kara kneeled beside you. “She’s from the planet Ieilen (ieilen). Their planet shifts so much that it’s citizens developed powers to make sure they stay on their planet. And when she’s off her world, her Ieilen body structure glitches out making it hard for her to stay in one place. She was my best friend when I would visit her planet.

“So how is she here now?” Alex asked.

“She’s here because of you, well a version of you. You made her a chip to help stabilize her when she ended up on my Earth. She was able to concentrate her powers to teleport objects, people and herself and create portals for inter dimensional travels.”

“What happened for her to be like this?” Kara asked from concern.

“There was this wave of red the vaporized our whole universe. She was able portal some people into a different dimension. We don’t know who made it and who didn’t. She collapsed, solar flared, all the portals disappeared and I brought her here with the device Cisco gave me.

The D.E.O was packed with heroes from Earth-one from team flash, present team arrow, future team arrow, the bats, and the legends. Oliver and Barry were giving information on the incoming crisis. You were in the MedBay when you started to glitch.

“Director Danvers, we have a code blue.” Alex immediately ran into the MedBay.

“Supergirl don’t let anyone in!”

“What’s a code blue,” Mick grumbled while Zari smacked him.

Kara grabbed Clark’s arm to prevent him from entering the MedBay

“I have to see if she’s okay.”

“I can’t let you cuz. She’s in good hands with Alex. If she says not to let anyone in, you don’t get to go in. You are more than welcome to fight me.”

“Kar! Get Caitlin! Lena too!

Team flashed look at Frost before she rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’ll get Caity.” Her silver hair dissolved into brunette as her blue lips reverted back to its pinkish color.

Caitlyn ran up the stairs from the control center to the MedBay as Lena exited Alex’s lab. Lena froze in the entrance of the MedBay as a pinkish-purple portal like thing flickered towards an unknown place before it disappeared.

“She’s in respiratory distress and her temperature is spiking. Her heart rate is faster than normal.”

You began to convulse and a whole commotion was heard from the D.E.O as a pinkish-purple portal opened on a highway with a car skidding towards the portal.

“Barry! A little help here!” Cisco called as he braced himself against the control panel.

Barry does the family out of the car as Nate steeled up and both Supers stood in front of the portal. Before the car could slide through, the portal closed as Frost lowered your temperature. The back end of the car hit Kara and Clark as it stopped in place.

“What the heck was that?” Connor asked as he stared at the backend of the car.

“My guess, our little friend upstairs is the cause.” Kate Kane pointed.

The same portal opened twice before portals emerged in its wake, throughout the whole D.E.O. Agents and heroes alike took cover as objects flew through portals and energy zapped in between them. You continued to glitch, tremor and convulse before Lena mentioned you potassium levels and Alex ran to get the injection, that subdued you.Slowly but surely the portals began to disappear as the D.E.O began to quiet down.

“Dang, that girl can give Sara a run for her money.” Ava said as she dusted off her pants suit.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sara got defensive.

“You destroy everything you touch.”

“I do not,” Sara balanced herself on an office chair and it broke apart. “To be fair most of the stuff I break, is you landing on furniture.” Sara argued as Ava blushed.

“Sara,” Ava said through gritted teeth. “I meant any mission you and the Legends go on, end up in a disaster. Like this,” Ava gestures around the D.E.O.

“I’m glad I’m not them,” Kate smiled.

“You went back to Gotham for a woman who is married.” Luke commented.

“Luke!”

“Does this happen every year?” Mia asked her father.

“Yeah, around every December.” Kara smiled.

“Immortal tyrants, aliens, Nazis, a change in reality. You would think you would get used to it by now.” Diggle crosses his arms

“Yes but this crisis is the worst of the worst. The multiverse will crumble, all life will cease to exist.” Oliver said. “Laurel lost her Earth, Clark and Glitch lost theirs.”

“Her name is (Y/n),” Clark interrupted.

“The point is that these are the only Earth’s we know to have disappeared. More could’ve disappeared and as each second passes another Earth can be gone.” Oliver continued.

“How do we fight something that can wipe us all out?” Nia asked.

“It’s not like we can punch our way through the antimatter,” William agreed.

“We can’t but if we can defeat the man behind it, the Anti-Monitor” Barry started.

“Then we can defeat this crisis.” Kara finished.

“Anyone good with a computer, find a way how to track this Anti-Monitor,” Alex said from the stairs.

“Everyone else, suit up and work with people you don’t normally fight with to know their skills and how your abilities can improve each others” Oliver commanded.

“Alright team! Let’s save the multiverse!” Sara clapped as the heroes began to disperse into locker rooms and training rooms.

The whole day was spent training, and surprisingly you were paired with Sara, Nia and Conner when you woke up. Team Genius were able to track bits and pieces of the Anti-Monitor. And now Barry, Oliver, Sara, Kara and Kate were coming up with a plan, a plan that wouldn’t necessarily be a win, but was a plan that could get them answers.

No matter how much you had trained you were not ready to face this enemy. Your breathing stiffened, there was obvious tension in your shoulders, and if that was no indication the scowl on your face did.

The plan was already in place, left and right heroes were ready for battle. You took the perfect opportunity to escape the room, which didn’t do unnoticed by Clark.

“(Y/n)?” Clark had followed you.

“Clark,” your voice fell to a whisper of regret. “I can’t go out there again.”

“Your powers aren’t back?”

“They’re fine. I can’t go out there knowing what I know. I ...” you paused to retain your composure. “I couldn’t save our Earth, how can I save the multiverse?”

Clark knew what to say, but he knew you needed a new voice to hear. You hadn’t even knew he left until two female voices entered the room.

“Okay I heard someone was having performance issues!” Sara clapped.

“That’s how you’re going to start that?” Kara asked with her hands on her hips.

“I run a ship full of children. I know what I’m doing.”

Kara rolled her eyes before she wrapped her arms around you. The moment she did the tears began and didn’t stop. You remembered the way your Kara had wrapped her arms around you, all the memories you shared. Unlike the rest of the League you pulled away and isolated yourself when the person you loved had sacrificed herself to save the world, only to have it fall in your hands. Now having scene her again, you wished it could go back to how things were before. But they wouldn’t because this was not your Earth, nor was it your Kara.

~Time Skip cause I can’t write the Crisis Part~

The multiverse was saved. Oliver, Barry and Clark were gone. Many had followed and life would never be the same again. Vanished Earths would not be repaired and you didn’t have a home. You were watching the city when Sara approached you again.

“Hey, there’s an extra room on the ship if you want to join.”

“I wouldn’t want to-“

“I insist. I could use someone like you on the ship.” Sara saw you hesitate and knew you were dealing with a loss greater than hers. “You’re not letting them down, you’re continuing their legacy. Your Earth, your team, your family, your friends and your Kara live inside you. You keep their legacy going. And we would too, you’re a legend now.” Sara smirked. “We’re making our final goodbyes. We will meet you back on the ship.”

You said your short goodbyes with Kara being the last one.

“On your Earth we were something more than friends right?”

You smiled and nodded.

“That’s why you were willing to lay down your life for me. What happened?” Kara asked.

“She is a hero.”

“And now you’re joining the Legends.”

“I have you to thank.” A comfortable silence came to the both of you before you built up the courage to ask. “Kara, I know it’s not the same but can I kiss you?”

The two of you shared a slow kiss, you didn’t want to pull away, it felt as if the moment you would you would be different. When you did pull away your forehead lingered on hers.

“Ask Lena out, you never know when it’s gonna end.”

“Goodbye Kara.”

You entered the Waverider with Sara smirking at you.

“What?”

“You are a Legend after all.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because every good Legend ends with a kiss.”

[sandrawrites13]

human shield | | day four

“ shots fired. . . 

                                                                               there’s no turning back. . . ”

welcome to day four of the thirty-one days of horror! i’ve decided i’m going to include a quote from a song that you can listen to while reading for more of a spooky effect. the quote you read above is by hidden citizens and is entitled shots fired. 

which, brings me right into the third prompt: human shield. following nicky nichols and r  from orange is the new black.

triggers: heartbreak, suicide in a way, death, the riot (s5), shootings, and blood. 

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SEASON FIVE!!! I’M TALKING TO YOU, @luna-jaden-shadow!

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST

the first time there was talks about big guys storming in with magnums and machine guns, you were skeptical. the second time, and the third time, and the fourth time, however, you became more rational towards what was going on. 

you guys were rioting. which is probably, pretty much, the worst thing a group of inmates could possibly do (and yes, that includes escaping). 

sure, nobody died. . . kind of. . . but it was still a matter of life and death. for past people. justice for past people. and for you, a time to relax with your girlfriend. 

you had a feeling this wasn’t going to have a happy ending, but you were okay with it anyway. 

at the current moment, and when you really had a feeling that this bloodbath was going to end even more bloodier, you realized that you were in for a real treat. especially when you had been kidnapped by bigfoot and locked with the remainder of your friends, plus piper.

your hands were bound behind your back, you right next to nicky, as pisc-a-loser walked around you guys, after firmly and exertingly shaving an old woman’s head clean. you were disgusted to say the least, but more of all - you were petrified. 

you constantly glanced around your shoulder, staring at nicky, who seemed the same as you, with similar regards. trying to get him to talk. despising his existence. cautious and protective of you. 

the casual nicky thing to do in a situation like this, besides being a smartass, anyway. 

you, however, were a smartass without remourse. you wanted him to know the full extent of how much of a dick he was, which is exactly what you were able to do after about thirty comments. most of them stemmed from how much of a giant pack of turd he was, but some of it actually had a motif behind it. 

“you know what, l/n, i’m done with your shit!” piscatella screamed, coming closer to the two of you, inches from your face. 

“i’m done with you too!” you snapped back, “all 350 pounds of you!” 

you could see alex snarkily cover her mouth with her shoulder to coat her laugh when you said that, and you could practically feel the grin rising on nicky’s face, though red was stern and serious. 

“girls, please stop!” she cried in hysteria. “let the man have his fun.” 

“yeah, and, uh, how ‘bout ‘ya go fuck yourself while you’re at it?” nicky teased, a somber but still a tinge of amused look on her face. she was beyond angry, and petrified, like you were, yet neither of you could resort to begging or pleading for your lives - you weren’t like that. 

“you should’ve listened to granny over here,” piscatella cursed through gritted teeth, pulling out his gun and aiming it at your head. immediately, your laughs stopped and you were staring at the chamber of his magnum. “you know, i’m so sick of little girls thinking they can do whatever they want!” he shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. “i’m so fucking done with it!” 

“don’t do this--.” you were able to say, hearing him scream back. 

“fuck you!” he spat-- literally -- in your face. you stood staring, your blood running cold, your heart practically stopping. 

“killing a girl? wh-what are you now, sexist?” nicky asked, her voice shaking out of her fear. 

“nichols, shut it, or you’ll die too,” he retorted, his eyes sharply still attacking yours. “say goodbye to this pretty little girlfriend of yours. maybe she’ll be an example.” 

right after that, everyone screamed through their ducttape, red and piper shouting out loud before a loud bang went off. 

you shut your eyes in preparation, screaming, too, as tears escaped your eyes. the horror - the terror - it was running circles through your body, drilling into your skin and in your lungs as you sharply inhaled. 

however, when you finally were able to open your eyes, you were met with the realization that something bad had happened. 

piper and alex, across from you, stared with shocked expressions, red moaning in agony from her spot on the chair. you looked down and were met with the blonde hair you loved, coated now in a soft red colour. 

“no!” red screamed through her heartache, “no! you--- that’s-- you’re a monster!” the last part was ripped through her russian tongue, exploring the room before settling down in your stomach. 

you were unable to move. unable to breathe. you just sat there, in shock, your eyes watering with your tears, as you held the person that you loved in your arms whilst their blood covered you. 

a / n - yo this was sad