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ghostbsuter · 5 months

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"What exactly are halfas?" Constantine asks, cigarette lit and leaning against the table.

They were in the justice league, having attended a meeting previously and now just lazed around.

Batman loses focus on his laptop screen and openly looks at the two, interested.

Green Lantern, Hal, jerks up at the question, looking between everyone still in the room and trying (and failing) to seem uninterested.

Zatara is glaring daggers at Constantine's back, eyes narrowed.

While flash had no context, having just arrived back with his food to sit with the rest, he appropriately tenses as well, from just one glance around the room.

Superman and Wonder woman aren't different from batman, not as discreet as some are trying to be and just staring at the two.

Slightly amused, Danny decided to entertain the question.

"Unlike ghosts and the undead, halfas are created and not born." He explains, looking at the man when he writes it down.

Who knew the infinity realm were this closed off that John Constantine had to get information from the source itself just to keep updated?

"Care to elaborate?"

Clicking his tongue, he does so.

"Halfas get created during extreme circumstances, it has to be right place, right time and correct amount of ectoplasm." Danny catches the lollipop that Batman throws at him, sending the bat a quick smile.

"Not everyone can become a halfa, our race is a rarity amongst the dead."Constantine raises a brow, pursing his lips. "There are only 3 of you right? Is that a normal amount in the realms?"

Another click. "No, thousands of years ago, when our kind reached its peak of over hundreds of people, Pariah Dark happened."

He briefly shares a glance with Martian Manhunter, he wonders if anyone here sent out a message of phantom story time? Why were they all lounging around?

"It was genocide. He killed off an entire species just because he felt threatened." He shrugs.

Constantine jolts, eyes clear as if he'd just connected the dots.

"So his downfall wasn't only because of rights of conquest but— the reason no one joined nor fought between you and the old King was because it was a revenge kill."

Danny ponders the words over, nodding. Yeah that sounds right.

"Many aren't surprised that Pariah Dark went berserk. It was kind of predictable, considering his soul was brought to the Infinity Realms after he'd died in the Phantom Zone as you know it."

Hal straightens up, Batman tenses and Diana leans forward.

"This previous King of yours– he was a past prisoner of Aethyr's Mind?"

The halfa nods, uncertain now that he'd stumbled upon unknown territory.

"Yes, the Phantom Zone and the Infinity Realms are sister spaces. Were you not aware?"

They were not, he quickly finds out.

Fumbling with his words, mind working overdrive as he sorts through information, he speaks again. "They are the two sides of the same coin, Phantom Zone being non-habitable while the Ghost Zone is filled with unalive."

He briefly struggles with his words, genuinely taken off guard with the lack of knowledge.

"Aethyr isn't just a being, but someone who is connected to the realm itself. Its similar to my position as King of the ghost zone." He summons his crown of ice to simple gesture.

"Besides! Phantom Zone, Zero Zone? Anti-infinite? That's literally the opposite of the Ghost Zone, the Infinite Realms!" he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"Could you tell us more of your realm?" Superman asks, voice gentle and non threatening. "Some of us have been in the Phantom Zone, so hearing that there is a place being the complete opposite?"

The halfa nods in understanding. "Sure, why not?"

Three simple words yet everyone feels the trust put on them with such information.

"The entire realm is an ever shifting space, we categorise eith the sectors of each afterlife. From the Greeks to the Yetis and different eras."

—

(The tale of his realm lasts longer than expected, it is only when Hal started to get ready to leave does Danny address a certain area in his zone.

"The... Emerald Space is also a sector of the Infinity realm. The sector itself is formed in a sphere like form, we aren't sure what's inside since the fallen lanterns keep to themselves rather."

Hal froze, eyes catching the ghosts, and looked away again. He'd tell OA of this, but now he was going home.

Danny watched him leave and declared it down for now, free for more question the next time and left just as fast.

At least Constantine and Zatara can update their books now.)

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #worldbuilding #dc x dp prompt #danny talks abt the ghost zone and the phantom zone #the phantom zone and the ghost zone are sister spaces #connie just wanted a fresh history lesson and got glared by ztarara instead #i love writing pissed off zatara

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cozage · 8 months

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Omg what the heck 2k!?! I’m so happy for you like I remember when you started this blog some time ago, and you blew up fast 😭 also that era when you got shadow banned. I wanted to request the monster trio with option 1. So how about a meeting their S/O after the 2 year gap but they ended on argument so now what would they say after not seeing them for two years.

A/N:😭😭i forgot about the shadowbanned era omg. I almost stopped writing completely then. That was a CRAZY time. Thank you for reminding me of that LOL

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Luffy Total word count: 750

A Postponed Apology

Sanji

“My love! You’re safe!” Sanji tackled you, both of you falling to the ground entangled in one another.

He pushed back the hair from your face and covered you with kisses in between his words. “You’re here! I missed you so much!”

“Sanji,” you laughed, trying to push him off. “You’re smothering me!”

“I’ll smother you forever!” He pressed his head against your chest, humming pleasantly as he listened to your heartbeat. “I’ll never leave your side ever again!”

Your fingers ran through his hair as tears filled your eyes. You hadn’t expected this reunion to go so smoothly. You had expected Sanji to never speak to you again, maybe even come back with a new crew member recruit. You wouldn’t have blamed him, not after all the horrible things you said to him.

“You’re not mad?” you whispered softly, afraid your voice would betray you.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, still listening to your heart beat in your chest. “I’m just grateful you’re okay.”

“But our fight…” Tears spilled out of the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks.

“Our fight?” he asked, clearly confused. He pulled his head away from your chest to look you in the eyes, and you could see his soul shatter at the fact he was making you cry.

“Do you mean the one from two years ago?” he asked. “Darling, don’t even worry about that. All that matters is that we are here together now, and I’m never letting you go again.”

Zoro

It took your eyes a second to adjust to the darkened room, but Zoro’s voice rang out.

“So, you’re the second one to arrive, huh?”

You hadn’t expected Zoro to be there. He was always getting so lost, you had assumed it would be anyone but him.

“Nobody else is here yet?” you asked, joining him at the bar.

“Just you and me.”

Silence filled the air, the heaviness of your last conversation still weighing on your shoulders.

“Zoro-”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “It was two years ago. It’s not a big deal.”

“No.” You shook your head, finally turning to look at him. “I should’ve never said those things. If I had known-”

“But you didn’t know.” He sighed, picking his beer up and taking a long drink. “Are you still upset about it? Do you even remember what we were fighting about?”

“Well no, but-”

“Then it doesn’t matter. We’re together now. Let’s make up for lost time instead, okay?”

You smiled, relieved at his words. He had never been one to hold a grudge.

“Okay.”

Luffy

You kept your distance from Luffy until everyone went to sleep. It had been a long day full of emotions, and he was busy enough with his captain duties. The last thing you wanted to do was inconvenience him any further.

“Sanji!” Luffy called, entering the kitchen. “I’m-oh! Hey!”

Your heart quickened at his voice. You weren’t ready to face him yet. Even if you knew you had to.

“Hey Luffy,” you whispered. “Sanji went to bed, but he made this ice cream sundae. You want it?”

Luffy’s mouth grew into a big smile, his eyes growing wide. He grabbed a spoon and slid into the booth next to you. “You’re the best! You know that, right?”

You gave an awkward laugh. “I guess we need to talk, huh?”

Luffy looked at you, a blank and confused look on his face. “Talk about what?”

It was hard to look at him, but you forced yourself to. “Our last conversation?”

He was trying to remember, you could see his brain going into overdrive as he recalled your last moments together on Sabaody. Finally, he shrugged and shoveled a scoop of ice cream into his mouth.

“I don’t remember our last conversation,” he admitted.

You raised an eyebrow. “The fight? Because if you want to break up-”

“Why would I want to break up with you?” Luffy asked. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“Well, I said some pretty harsh things, Lu.”

He knitted his eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember. For a minute you watched him, and you could’ve sworn steam was coming out of his ears. But he shook his head. “Sorry, I don't remember that at all.”

You laughed. You should be surprised or offended. But that was just Luffy. “So we’re good?” you asked.

“Of course,” he said, offering you a bite. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

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awfcspencer · 12 days

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Text or Call? || alexia putellas x reader

prompt: At the 2019 World Cup you meet Alexia, what happens at the 2023 World Cup.

warnings: uswnt!reader, instances of angst but a happy ending

“The United States look to continue their powerful regime and earn a fourth covenant star on their jerseys.”

It was the somewhat mantra of this year’s major tournament, building the pressure to perform well to the highest magnitude. There was an expectation of excellence surrounding the team months leading up to the tournament, with new eyes joining the march nearly every day, boosting the US to new heights.

The 2019 Women’s World Cup had been set and it was imperative that the United States go back-to-back World Champions, you could see the newspapers now as it seemed it was somewhat written in the stars for the United States. The pressure to play well was there, and you couldn’t let down your country on the national stage. The prevailing narrative casted an array of self-doubt and anxieties into you, and you couldn’t deny the lingering thoughts of what-ifs. What if you don’t play well? What if you don’t win?

You’d spent countless years preparing for this opportunity, moving through the USWNT age groups with ease and then battling to make the senior team roster. You’d been playing professional soccer for a couple years right out of college, playing for a few different NWSL teams throughout your career. A few international assignments scattered along the schedule leading up to the World Cup proved you were worthy of such call-up and when the roster was announced, you’d managed to escape with a spot.

The media’s outrage was uncontrollable, claiming other national team members deserved your earned spot more than you, the constant outpour of hatred flooded your social media, it was hard to ignore, just like the dark cloud that casted over you as you landed in France to begin the tournament.

The group stage had gone swimmingly, the United States proved once again why they were a threat and seemingly looked to breeze by competition. The roster was filled with the highest of talent but still you’d managed to find minutes on the pitch, only causing increased negative media. One bad pass or one bad movement made you feel each and every ruthless word that the fans spewed online, it was uneasy to escape the anxious feeling you felt each time you played.

Your national teammates tried to shield you from the hatred online, but you saw it, and throughout select moments of the tournament, you felt yourself desperately trying to prove them wrong, but your head was clouded and your mind was on overdrive, your apparent distractedness was only hurting your game.

With an upcoming knock round game versus Spain, you seeked to play your game, play the game you loved with every fiber in you, play with the seemingly carefree nature that set your game apart from your teammates. The same energy and joy you played with during the NWSL season that had initially brought your name up to Jill, you needed to return to yourself, you needed to play for yourself and not listen to what hundreds of people said behind anonymous screens.

The match against Spain in the midfield looked to be a challenge you welcomed, matched up directly across Alexia Putellas, a woman near your age who had been streamlining a new era of Spain dominance and prolonged success of Liga F’s Barcelona team.

You’d yet had the chance to meet the brunette in person, but seconds before kickoff you couldn’t deny the effortless beautifulness the midfielder had. Her fixed concentration and aura was undeniable, there was something enticing about her that you clearly didn’t have time to ponder on as the whistle blew and the game had begun.

The US managed to strike first but an untimely mistake that Jenni Hermoso quickly countered on and the score was tied 1-1.

A wave of up and downs on both sides left the match up in the air, both sides fighting desperately to move on. You’d spent most of the match marking the vital number 11 for Spain, she moved rapidly down the pitch, excelling at such rate that you questioned if she was human or not, her stamina never withering. Alex had sent you a narrow ball on the route down the right side, forcing an untimely challenge from the Spaniard you’d been eyeing all game. You’d felt every spike of her cleat in your ankle, immediate pain coursing through the bone.

“Lo sien- I am sorry.” She spoke with a clear apologetic tone, crouching down to meet your eyes. Her eyes were piercing up close, an assortment of different brown and hazel tones that fit her perfectly. “Are you okay?”

You’d sent her a swift nod, using her extended arm to help assist you up. Her breathtaking eyes peered down to you ankle, searching for any sort of extra concern. You moved your ankle in circles, the pain dwindled a bit and you were ready to compete again. Alexia let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding in, thankful she hadn’t hurt you for her idiotic attempt to stop your path to a goal to put the US back on top.

“All good.” You explain, sending her an appreciative smile for helping you up and jogged backwards a bit to resume play. You’d understood the tackle wasn’t malicious or targeted, she was simply trying to win the game, you couldn’t blame her efforts as you would have done nearly the same.

Throughout the rest of the match, you’d found yourself stationed within close distance of the midfielder, her feet always seemed to attract the ball from her teammates and her vision for the game sent you running yards to continue to track the ball down. She made her passes look effortless, slicing through defenders with ease and her dribbling technique to create space was incredible, you would have been in full awe of the brunette if you weren’t in the middle of a vital match.

Luckily a penalty had been awarded to the United States and the US were now ahead 2-1 and you desperately begged for the final whistle to blow. Your wish came true not much longer and the US moved on to the next stage. Spain gave a valiant effort, exposing the weak parts of the US game which you were sure the opponents were watching. After a brief celebration, your legs seemingly moved without your own account, moving until you were inches away from the Spain number 11, the midfielder that had suffocated your thoughts nearly all game. Before you could really think, your arm peered out and tapped the midfielder on the shoulder.

“Good game.” You told her when she turned to you. “Jersey swap?”

Her once focused eyes now red-rimmed as tears threaten to fall from her eyelashes. It broke your heart in an indescribable way and you’d just nearly met the girl 90 minutes ago, but there was something alluring about her, she was a future powerhouse of women’s football and there was a sort of fascination that bubbled in you about the brunette.

She nodded and quickly discarded her jersey and handed it to you, “Good game as well.”

You couldn’t deny, Alexia Putellas was built by God himself, her features chiseled and muscles defined, you couldn’t help but stare for a few seconds before she put your jersey on, the heat certainly rising to your cheeks placing a warm blush across your face.

“See you around Putellas.” You told her as you walked toward where your team stood in the middle of the pitch conversing with other members of the Spain team.

The celebrations rang through the changing room, everyone congratulating one another on a solid performance and another checked off box towards back-to-back world cup wins. The time difference in France had certainly caught up to you and the efforts of the match meant your sore limbs desperately needed relaxation, so you headed back towards the hotel, leaving your national teammates who you knew would be partying until the sun eventually came up the next day. You’d swiftly changed out of your new Spain jersey and settled for a casual grey sweatsuit combo.

Entering the hotel, you made your way towards the elevator, but something, or someone, piqued your interest. The all too familiar girl you’d spent the last 90 minutes chasing around, now sat in the hotel bar. She was dressed in similar clothes as you, nursing a small glass of wine alone. You’d recognized the back of her hair immediately, you’d constantly been behind her most of the match as her speed was unrivaled. Her hair now escaped the bun it had during the game and cascaded along her back. She was beautiful in the bun, but something about her hair down made your heart skip a beat, she was breathtaking, even from the back.

Once again, your legs drove you forward, tiredness forgotten, you were incredibly infatuated in the midfielder and you desperately wanted to know her, understand her. There was something unexplainable about her that you couldn’t pinpoint that drew you in.

“Can I sit?” You asked timidly. The position you know found yourself in was sticky, you didn’t think about the fact that your country had just knocked hers out of the World Cup and there was a high possibility that she wanted nothing to do with you, the brutal obvious thoughts now entered your mind when she didn’t immediately answer.

“I’m sorry, I’ll go.” You told her as you made your way to leave.

“No, stay. You can sit.”

You turn your head at the familiar voice, settling in next to Alexia on the barstool to the right of her.

“You don’t deserve the hate you get online you know.” She spoke, breaking the awkward silence.

“Thank you, and if it’s any consolation, you and your country did play well today.”

She simply nodded in agreeance, taking a slow slip of her red wine. You and Alexia fell into an easy conversation when you asked about her journey, and then when she asked you about yours. The talking flowed effortlessly and you slowly found the girl in front of you coming out of her shell. She was easy to talk to and even after experiencing the loss she did today, she was quite humorous. The laugh that fell from her lips was intoxicating and you slowly found yourself melting around the Spaniard with every passing second.

During one of your national teammates stories where you described an amusing event at training during the group stage, the pads of her fingers briefly stroked your shoulder and even through your sweatshirt, you could feel her electric touch, something was growing between the two of you in that dimly lit hotel bar.

Glancing down at your watch, you realized you’d spent nearly three hours in the bar, talking with Alexia. Your once tiredness completely vanished when you saw the girl, but now the weight of your activities of the day now hitting you like a truck and a small yawn escaped your lips unwillingly.

“You should probably get some sleep.” She whispered. “But here.” She tore off a piece of the napkin that held her wine glass and jotted down her number for you. “Text or call after the tournament, yeah?”

“Of course, Alexia. Thank you for tonight.” You told her as you pulled yourself off the bar stool. “Good night Alexia.”

You moved to leave the bar before you heard her voice again, “Wait.”

As you turned back to the midfielder, she placed a soft kiss on your cheek, “Good night.”

After the World Cup, you’d made good on your promise and texted Alexia, blossoming a friendship with the Spaniard, and then with time, you found yourself in a committed relationship with Alexia. A long-distance relationship that relied heavily on communication, but every chance either of you got to visit, you both did so instantly.

You watched Alexia cement her name in countless record books across Spain and she watched your game develop likewise. A powerhouse couple of sorts in women’s football, and you had fallen madly in love with the midfielder. But eventually, the hundreds of miles caught up to the two of you.

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

You replay the moment in your head every single day. From the very second you wake up in the morning to the second your eyes close at night, the moment replays in your head like a broken record. Alexia’s voice on the other side of the phone, hundreds of miles away, begging you to not give up on her drilled into your brain.

Every day that passed you thought about forming a line of contact, trying to take back the obvious mistake you’d made. But you had let her down, and the last memory of the Spaniard you had was her voice buzzing in her your head, pleading to give her one more try. The distance between the two of you ultimately became too much and you couldn’t handle it any longer, and you would not let Alexia throw her whole life away to move closer to you, her home was in Barcelona and yours was in the US.

You still smell the traces of her scent on your bedsheets. You still remember her favorite songs, the way she’d sing them out loud in the shower thinking no one’s listening. You still remember the feel of her under your palms, every curve, every line. The Spaniard still infiltrated all of your thoughts, even after you thought you’d gotten over her. You still couldn’t get her out of your mind, even though you knew you were probably long gone from hers.

From then on, you’d thrown yourself full force into your game, working hours a day to perfect your game and make the 2023 World Cup roster. A numbness had settled into you some time after the breakup and it had never left. Your main focus was football, the game that had changed your entire life, and not necessarily because of the sport itself. The game in which you had the highest of highs and low lows, the game that had brought you Alexia, and the game that eventually teared you away from the girl.

You’d watched her struggle to recover from her ACL tear and watched her proudly return back to the pitch like she had never left. You’d kept up with Alexia, peaking into a Barça match every so often, watching her excel on the pitch just like she did four years ago at the World Cup, now just more people appreciated her game and you couldn’t be happier for you her.

The 2023 World Cup had the same intense feeling as the 2019 World Cup, the pressure for the United States to win another star was at a new height and it was up to the squad to win at any cost necessary. You’d cemented yourself as a valuable member of the team and now felt the weight of what was at risk for this tournament.

You knew Alexia was going to be at the tournament, but you tried to force it out of your mind and focus on the task ahead. But there was no way to avoid her, the anxiety that settled into your stomach thinking about the girl was uncontrollable. Your mind was supposed to be focused and ready, but instead you felt numb and blank. Physically you were in Australia, but your mind was elsewhere.

The group stage was all a blur, you’d been simply going through the motions for longer than you could remember, trying to just survive. The media was even more ruthless this tournament, claiming the US had lost their passion for the game and condemned each and every national team member, it was ruthless and you simply couldn’t escape it, but your mind spewed the same things, except your thoughts were focused on the girl who hadn’t left you mind since you broke her heart.

The game against Sweden was an eye-opener, a stalemate match that even after extra time was still even, forcing a penalty shoot-out. Your team swayed together uncontrollably as your heart pounded in your ears, tuning out the crowd and trying to focus on the penalties.

Next up was you. You lined the ball up and did the same penalty kick routine you’d done every single time. You took a deep breath and kicked the ball. The ball cleared the goal post, missing the net entirely, sending the ball into the stands. You had missed the penalty, and Sweden capitalized. You’d let down your country.

Unbeknownst to you, Alexia sat in hotel room watching the match. Her knee bounced anxiously as she tried not to bite her nails, a habit you desperately pleaded for the Spaniard to stop. The match had given her heart palpitations as she shakingly paced around the room when the match came down to penalties. She watched you take yours and miss terribly, and when the camera panned to you, her heart broke in a million little pieces.

Her thumb hovering over your contact, wanting to extend herself to you again, to be a shoulder to cry on, she knew this pain all too well. But luckily, she knew where you would go.

Back at the stadium, the Sweden team celebrated and the USWNT left in despair. You want to scream and cry but you can’t, every time you want to show an emotion, your body shuts down, unable to get the numbness that has surrounded you all tournament out. You needed something to let go, to get rid of this agonizing feeling and aid your despair.

You’d made quick work of packing your belongings in the changing room, and escaped out the door as quickly as you could, getting on the team bus and locking your eyes out the side window, not allowing the tears to fall.

Once back at the hotel, you fell behind your teammates and instead of turning right towards the elevator up to the hotel rooms, you took a left and entered the hotel bar. You’d asked the bartender for something strong, something to forget the last 90 minutes of football.

“I figured I’d find you here.” You knew her voice all too well, it sent a bone chilling shiver down your spine. “Can I sit?”

As you turned towards the girl, even in the softly lit bar, you knew who it was.

“Alexia.” You try to not let your voice betray your feelings because you know Alexia can read you like an open book. Being back in Alexia’s presence was more intoxicating than any drink the bartender could offer you.

“This was a bad idea. I just wanted to…” What did Alexia want to do? In truth she wanted to kiss you, hold you and tell you how special you are and apologize a thousand times for letting the distance get in the way, she wanted to do and say so many things. She noticed your eyes were tired but still had the same fire she saw four years ago.

“Please stay.” You said and reached out to grab her, not caring how desperate you sounded, you couldn’t help it. Alexia, the girl who you had tried to avoid like the plague the second you landed in Australia, stood right in front of you. Her hair was slightly longer and you met her eyes for the first time since the breakup. She sat next to you in silence, she’d never seen you so damaged, so frail.

“How are you… doing?” You asked, swallowing around another lump in your throat, trying to get your thoughts together as you look towards her nervously.

“I’m okay.” She said, sending you a soft smile with the small quirk it always had, the smile that was ingrained in the back of your mind even though you wished it wasn’t.

Your heart thuds in your chest, Alexia was mere inches away from you and you yearned to lean over and kiss her, but you knew you couldn’t. She most likely had moved on and found solace in someone else, someone who wasn’t you.

You try not to look into Alexia’s eyes for too long, because you know that if you lock eyes, Alexia will see just how much you still love her.

“It’s not your fault you know.” She said, but you couldn’t tell if she was speaking about the match or about the past relationship. But nonetheless, you saw the opportunity and took it, and the apology spilled out of you.

“I was scared. I was hurt by the distance and I couldn’t handle it any longer. I tried to get you back but I am so sorry Alexia.” You whisper brokenly, tears streaming down your cheeks gently. You choke on your own cry that builds in your throat, everything bubbling to the surface.

“I am so sorry I ever let you go.” Your voice cracks on the last word, not knowing where this conversation would go from here, but it had to be said.

Before you can say anything more through tears, you feel Alexia stand up, a hand wrapping around your waist and warms lips on your neck. Your eyes close as you cry harder, emotions from the game combining with the unsettled emotions of your breakup all those months ago. Alexia tightened her hold around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You watch as something flashes across Alexia’s face and it takes your heart in a vice grip to see the girl so confused and hurt. It makes you think back to the phone call and if you’d been able to see Alexia’s face when you broke up with her, you didn’t think you’d be alive now.

There were two broken hearts in the room, not just one.

Alexia takes one of your hands, holding it between the two of you, “If you leave again, I will not be able to survive.”

Her words hit you like a train as the impact almost makes you fall over, but you take your combined hands and place them firmly over her heart. You close your eyes and focuses on the heartbeat under your palm.

“I never want to live without you ever again.” You tell her as you hold your breath with the last syllable as you finish. Alexia kisses the small tear rolling down your cheek, The move is gentle and genuine and you reach out and tug Alexia closer.

Alexia lifts your head up to meet her eyes that are also brimming with tears, “I never want to live without you ever again.”

Alexia is giving you the power to reach into her chest and rip her heart right out again, but she is trusting you won’t this time. She leans in once more and kisses your lips, the gesture so familiar as if no time has passed.

Alexia manages the one sentence that she knows doesn’t need much explaining for you to know the meaning, and she weighs on it heavily to anchor the two of you.

“Text or call after the tournament, yeah?” She asked as the corners of her mouth curved into a smile.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso blurbs #alexia putellas x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #woso #woso soccer #womens soccer #alexia putellas

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fazedlight · 4 months

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Asynchronous (Rift era, pre-Crisis, not nearly as much sc angst as the gif implies)

Where am I?, Kara thought, her body shaking as she pushed herself off the floor she had apparently crashed into, trying to stand. How long was I unconscious?

Her head was killing her. Pain was a rarity under a yellow sun, and in this case the feeling was hard to shake - it was just all too reminiscent of not long ago, when she was trapped in kryptonite, fighting burning lungs and a blinding headache while fighting heartbreak at the same time.

But she needed to not think about Lena right now.

Kara searched her mind for the last thing she remembered, Brainy’s words transmitted to her ears, telling her about the capabilities of the alien creature she was fighting. The creature was generally docile enough - but in a panic, it would thrash and quake, and it had the unique ability to…

Where… When am I?, Kara thought, looking around at the building whose ceiling she had fallen into. The creature could send her anywhere in time and space - forward or back in time, across the planet or galaxy, it didn’t matter. The good news is that the effect would be temporary in nature, lasting a day at most, before she snapped back into place, something about attenuated vibrations. “Time is like a rubber band,” Brainy had said, though Kara was certain she could hear pain in his attempt to simplify the explanation.

Kara heard the buzz of a portal behind her, the quick cock of a gun. “Don’t move,” came the familiar voice. “These aren’t ordinary bullets.”

Kara turned slowly, deflating under the hard eyes of her ex-best-friend. Lena was tense and angry, her finger resting on the trigger, her other hand on a tracking device. My heat signature, Kara thought, Guess she has kryptonite bullets now.

Lena’s eyes narrowed as she reached to her belt, before tossing vibrant green cuffs in Kara’s direction. “Put those on.”

Kara lowered herself to the floor, taking the cuffs, feeling the burn in her hands. She couldn’t really fathom Lena trying to kill her. But after the disruption of Lena’s Myriad plan, and now being held at gunpoint… “Lena, what are - what are you going to do?”

“How do you know my name?” Lena growled.

Kara’s eyes widened. Anywhere in time and space… “Who do you think I am?” Kara asked.

“Is that a joke?” Lena asked, as Kara’s mind revved into overdrive. “You think you can come back, with cartoonish S on your chest, and we’ll forget the Third Reich?”

Fear sank into Kara’s stomach. Earth X. “Lena, I know this looks like-”

“Through the portal. Now.”

-----------

Kara found herself sitting in an interrogation room.

Her mind was scrambling for what Barry had said had become of Earth X - she remembered that, in the aftermath, the Third Reich had fallen to the Resistance, which was trying to rebuild a non-fascist society. But she knew the balance had to be fragile. The Reich had its proponents.

But Kara didn’t have long to think, before another familiar face walked into the room. “Winn!” Kara said, jumping up.

“Sit down,” Winn growled back.

Kara tensed, shaking off her confusion as she slowly sank to her chair, as Winn gave Lena a skeptical look. Right, he’s not the Winn I know either…

Lena shrugged. “She knew my name, too.”

“You’re both my friends,” Kara said softly, “On my Earth.”

Winn ignored her words, stepping around the table to take a seat at its corner. “We need to know if the Führer is still alive.”

“He’s dead,” Kara said, meeting Winn’s eyes. “As is his wife.”

Winn’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I was sent here by accident,” Kara answered. “At some point in the next day or so, I’ll snap back to my own Earth.” If you don’t kill me first, she thought.

“And how do I know you’re from another Earth?” Winn demanded.

“You met my sister,” Kara whispered, thinking back to Alex’s stories when they were separated on Earth X, years ago. “Alex Danvers. On my Earth, she’s your friend too.”

“You,” Winn said skeptically. “I’m friends with you.”

“I’m not from your Earth,” Kara said. “I’m not asking you to trust me. Just let me live long enough to go back to my own time.”

-----------

Kara fidgeted as she sat alone in the room again - watching, waiting, itching against the bounds of her kryptonite cuffs.

She was certain that Winn and Lena - possibly others - were debating what to do with her. Hopefully they don't just kill me, Kara thought, searching her mind for how she might prove she’s not from their Earth.

But the door opened again.

Lena stepped in quietly, eyes on Kara. But the anger was subdued from before. She was curious. “Lena,” Kara whispered.

The wariness wasn’t gone from Lena’s stance, but she sat across from Kara. “What’s it like, on your Earth?”

Kara smiled. My Lena would be curious about the other Earths too, she thought. “The Third Reich ended in 1945. We’re… far from a perfect world. But we haven’t had the struggle that you’ve had.”

“And you and I are friends?”

Kara’s expression faltered, as she glanced down at her hands. “We used to be. We used to be best friends.”

“What happened?”

Kara bit at her lip, unable to look Lena in the eye. “I betrayed you. You hate me now.”

Lena’s brows furrowed. “That doesn’t seem to be the sort of thing that would help your cause.”

“I’m not going to lie to you again,” Kara said. “I’ve done too much of that. The other you, I mean.”

Lena frowned, and Kara could see some of the tension in her body rise again. “What happened to my Earth’s Kara? How did she die?”

“Her heart was dying from too much solar exposure,” Kara said. “I took her up into the atmosphere before her body… it started a nuclear reaction.”

“And the Führer?”

“Oliver from another Earth killed him.”

Lena’s eyebrows briefly raised. “Winn met him, apparently.”

“Yeah. My sister was there too.”

-----------

Kara itched at her bonds again, wishing there was a clock she could check. I don’t know how much time would be left anyway, she thought to herself. But at least I’d know…

She was surprised to hear the door open again. Lena walked through with a cup and some bread, placing both in front of Kara on the table. “You must be hungry,” she said.

“Thank you,” Kara murmured, leaning forward and beginning to eat.

“What did you lie to me about?” Lena asked. “On your Earth?”

Kara swallowed harshly. “I- I kept my kryptonian identity from you. Kryptonians and Luthors don’t get along.”

“Luthors?”

Kara’s brow crinkled. “Are you a Walsh, here?”

Lena nodded slowly.

“Your mother…” Kara asked. “She’s alive?”

Lena’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

Kara smiled. She got to be raised by Elizabeth, she thought. “Are the Luthors alive? On this Earth?”

“No,” Lena said. “Alexander Luthor was the last Führer, before Oliver Queen. There was a power struggle.”

Kara nodded. “You were raised by the Luthors. On my Earth. So when I hid my identity, and became friends with you… you didn’t take it well when you found out.”

Lena looked on curiously. “The secret? Drove me to hate you?”

Kara shook her head. “There were other mistakes I made. In the aftermath. I… hurt you pretty badly.”

“So what did I do next?”

“You tried to brainwash the world.”

Lena’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“To make everyone kind.”

Lena’s brow raised. I guess that resonates, Kara thought. In a world full of fascists…

“I can see the appeal,” Lena said.

-----------

Kara was fascinated. And bored.

Her only company was Lena, on and off. She was grateful when Lena came in with food, and over the moon when Lena came in to exchange Kara’s kryptonite cuffs with far less painful power cuffs.

But her moments with Lena were few and far between given her apparent other responsibilities, leaving Kara staring up at the ceiling for long stretches of time.

She found herself torn, thoughts of “When will I be able to go home?” warring with “I hope my Lena looks at me like that again someday.”

-----------

“Are you happy here?” Kara asked. “Are you- are you with anyone?” Lena smiled. “I met him a year ago,” she said. “We butted heads on technical projects. Trying to rebuild our society’s infrastructure. But something more came of it.”

Kara smiled. “Jack?”

Lena’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Jack.”

Kara nodded too. “I’m glad you have someone.”

Lena tilted her head curiously. “Were we more than friends?”

“You and Jack? Yeah, on my Earth-”

“No,” Lena clarified. “You and I. What were we to each other?”

Oh. “No,” Kara said, shifting uncomfortably. “We were only ever friends.”

“Is that all you wanted?”

“I just- don’t think it’s relevant to you-”

“I don’t know what I’m like on your Earth,” Lena said, leaning forward on her arms. “But if someone hurt me so badly that I try to brainwash the world about it, I think that person must’ve meant something to me.”

Kara bit her lip.

Lena’s brow quirked. “If your plan is to never lie to me again, that seems like the sort of thing you should tell me. Other me.”

Kara laughed, her heart twinging with joy and pain. “If we ever get along again, I’ll tell you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

-----------

“Why are you trusting me?” Kara asked curiously.

“What do you mean?” Lena asked, in a tone that was more coy than confused.

“You just seem less suspicious of me than before,” Kara shrugged. “In the beginning.”

Lena’s lips quirked, taking a moment to consider Kara. She then raised her hand, twisting it slightly, causing a small yellow glow to appear. Kara noted in shock that there seemed to be a glow passing over her own body, too. “What’s happen- what are you doing?”

“Just making your temporal shift visible,” Lena said. “I scanned you after our first meeting. I can’t prove you’re not from this Earth, but I can prove that you’re not where the universe expects you to be right now.”

“I’m sorry, but-” Kara sputtered. “But are you using magic?”

“Lena doesn’t have magic on your Earth?” Lena said.

“I can’t even get my Lena to believe in magic,” Kara said with a laugh. “Rao, this is amazing.”

Kara glanced up, and found Lena smiling.

-----------

“How long have I been here?” Kara asked.

“About 12 hours,” Lena said. “Honestly, I’d let you go. But Winn said it might cause a panic anyway, if too many people see you walking around.”

Kara sat back for a moment. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

-----------

It was at the 17 hour mark - just after Lena had brought in more food - that Kara’s hands began to glow. “What are you doing now?” Kara asked.

“Nothing,” Lena said, leaning forward to eye the glow. “I think you’re being pulled back.”

“Oh,” Kara said, glancing up at the alternate Lena. What should I say? “Thank you,” Kara murmured. “Thanks for being good company.”

“Give me time,” Lena said gently.

“Time?”

“I’ll come to my senses,” Lena said, thinking to herself, nodding. “I- I know there’s baggage. But at some point, I will come to my senses. I’ll come back to you.”

Kara smiled. “I hope so.”

“Good luck, Kara Zor-El.”

-----------

Kara found herself falling. No longer cuffed, no longer in a dark dusty room - but bathed in sunlight and breathing fresh air. Earth-38, she thought gratefully.

She blinked, shooting upwards in the sky again, hearing shouting in her ear. “Kara?” came Brainy’s panicked voice. “Kara, are you still there?”

“I’m here,” Kara gasped, looking over National City.

“Must’ve lost you for a minute,” Brainy said. “The creature is by the arboretum. We’ve finished making the power net, J’onn is flying it over.”

Kara glanced to the north, but her ears were fixating somewhere southeast, locating a familiar heartbeat. We’ll figure it out, Kara thought, clinging to Earth X Lena’s words.

We’ll get there, in the end. “I’m on my way.”

#I wrote this while extremely sleep deprived so I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense #haven't done a ficlet in a while so it feels good to stretch my legs??#supercorp #mel writes ficlets

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