#i can't wait for these two to get into a ridiculous amount of (unwanted on adelaide's part) trouble

[velcryons]

@blossomhcir: 'you puzzle me utterly'

Corlys couldn't help but grin at her admission, the corner of his lips twitching as he fought back the urge to laugh. It wasn't her fault. He was a nuisance, a fact he knew very well. Adelaide simply happened to be in the wrong place at the right time (indeed, he had even forgotten which sister she had come here to see.) and Corlys was loathe pass up a chance for light teasing.

Leaning against the door frame, he purposefully blocked her path as he replied.

"Which part puzzles you most? My dashing features or my unwavering charm"

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 27)

The closer we get to the end, the more nervous I am, and maybe you are too, because things are going to go horribly awry and only suffering is to come. Fate is adamant that a specific twelve year old must die, and we really have no choice but to watch it all unfold.

In this part, we will discuss the chapters building up to the New Year's Concert, where Reo will attempt to assassinate the ESP.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six

Ruka finds Natsume in the snow. He asks where he’s been, and Natsume responds that he went to see Mikan. Natsume imagines that Ruka will be jealous, because he feels guilty. He’d been putting his own wants first this whole night, and he hadn’t even considered Ruka.

Expectation vs. Reality. Ruka, best boy.

But Ruka is not jealous, or he’s very good at hiding it. He beams at Natsume, offering only congratulations and support. He’s happy for them, that both of their wishes came true. In fact, Ruka was also wishing for it, that Mikan and Natsume could find each other.

Natsume apologizes, because Ruka’s cheerful support only makes him feel more guilty, but he doesn’t tell him for what. He will not recount the details of the night, particularly of the many kisses shared between him and Mikan.

There’s a happy moment between Natsume and Ruka until, of course, Natsume starts coughing violently. He coughs up blood again, and when Ruka asks him if he’s okay, he’s ready to downplay it, already hiding his hand so that his best friend won’t worry. But Ruka grabs his hand and looks at the blood on the glove, and there’s a somber moment between them. Natsume tries to talk, but Ruka knows he’s just going to try and downplay it again, so he interrupts.

The best friendship in all of fiction. I stand by this forever. You can't change my mind.

Ruka has watched Natsume suffer the whole time they’ve been at the academy, even before then. He might not have had all the details, but he’s known that Natsume’s life was agony. He was helpless, and even became a burden (in his own view, not Natsume’s). He pleads with Natsume not to hide from him anymore. They’re meant to be best friends, and all Ruka has ever wanted was to be Natsume’s support system, but Natsume shut him out in the guise of protecting him. He keeps all his pain locked away and deals with it on his own.

Watching someone you love suffer and not being able to do anything about it is a tremendous pain, Ruka says. Natsume must sympathize. He will say something similar later on about Mikan’s situation.

Ruka loves Natsume. Natsume might have thought that he dragged his only friend into a bottomless pit of despair but Ruka asserts he’s never once regretted following him to the academy, not even for a second.

Ruka is confessing now. Natsume must know now that his existence is important to at least two people who love him unconditionally, but he doesn’t internalize it. Maybe he can’t. He’s too stuck in the role of martyr that straying from it would go against the very fabric of his own identity. He exists and has always existed to protect others. Protecting himself or even considering himself doesn’t align with that identity. No matter how much Mikan and Ruka plead with him to keep himself safe, he can’t abide. They’re more important than he is. He fails to see how much heartbreak and sorrow he will leave in his wake of self-destruction.

Natsume can’t internalize it. He can’t take it in and change course. It’s too late for that, in his mind. But he can tell Ruka the truth, because supporting Natsume is all Ruka wants.

He confesses too. He’s afraid. He doesn’t like thinking about the future, not even a year from now, because he’s scared he’ll be dead by then.

He says his secret fear out loud, that he won’t be able to protect her, and it’s still so heart-breaking that he still only sees his own value in how much he can protect people. He will shorten his own life to get her out of the darkness she’s ended up in. He doesn’t see worth in his existence just for the sake of living, of breathing, of smiling and laughing and crying and existing. Instead, his value is conditional. He is only so good as he is able to protect others and when he can’t anymore, then he is no longer valuable. It’s a glaring sign of a ridiculously low self-esteem.

He wants to choose life! He wants to live! Oh, this makes it worse...

But something has changed. He doesn’t want to die. He wants to live and be with her forever. He can’t be with her if he’s dead. It’s a selfish thought, and as I’ve been saying, that’s a wonderful thing. If only that selfish impulse were stronger, than maybe things wouldn’t be so doomed in the coming week. But Natsume’s ingrained martyr complex is stronger than anything, and his new flicker of selfishness doesn’t stand a chance.

Ruka promises he’ll do anything to support Natsume and Mikan’s future together. And so Natsume asks Ruka to protect Mikan if he’s no longer able to.

I personally don’t think he’s handing Mikan over here. This whole conversation’s context is specifically about protecting Mikan, and how Natsume wants only to keep her safe, even at the expense of his own life (though he’s actually more cavalier with that than he lets on, so it’s not much of an “even”, is it?). If Natsume is dead, he wants somebody he trusts to watch over her and prioritize her as he has. Who better than Ruka, who loves Mikan too and will want to keep her safe as well?

Or. You could just. Not die. Just a thought.

Natsume has never treated Mikan as an object to be won. He’s in fact made several comments about not “competing” at all. If he was able to give Mikan to Ruka, those two would be together now already and Natsume wouldn’t be the one holding Mikan’s alice stone. He is not any more capable of giving her away then he’s been before, and he’s less motivated to now than he’s ever been. Mikan is his, after all. Why would he “give her away” so soon after promising to be together forever?

He’s only concerned with Mikan’s safety and freedom here. If he dies in the pursuit of that, which he will, then someone else needs to make sure she’s safe and free. What she does with that safety and freedom is not in his or Ruka’s or anyone’s hands. I imagine Natsume, who got jealous of Mikan thinking of all her important people when making her alice stone would also get jealous at the thought of Mikan falling in love with somebody after his death. It might occur in the distant future, but it probably wouldn’t be any fun to imagine.

You may disagree with me, but I just can’t see it that way. I just don’t see it.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven

It’s New Year’s. Mikan’s birthday. There’s a celebration happening in the dorms, just like last year, but Natsume isn’t dressed in traditional garb to welcome the new year and feast like all the other students.

Instead, he’s waiting for Narumi in a hallway.

He wants all the information he can get, so he can get Mikan out of her cage sooner. Narumi isn’t talking, always willing to act dumb to get out of things. But Natsume knows better. He saw Narumi in the flashbacks, and knows how much Narumi loved Yuka. He would’ve done anything for her, even if it resulted in his own death. Narumi should understand how Natsume feels, then. He knows Mikan is suffering and in danger, but he can’t do anything about it. He says something to the effect that he shouldn’t even be living at this point, again reiterating that his life only has value if he’s able to protect people, particularly Mikan. If he’s unable to do that, then he might as well die. There’s really no difference, he says.

Jeez, kid, relax.

Narumi tries to point out that Natsume is dying, as if perhaps the kid is unaware of this, but Natsume grabs him and declares that he will not end up like him. Natsume seems to understand Narumi (probably more than I can! Haha) and that his life has been empty and soulless for a long time. Narumi is full of regret and has been for years, but Natsume won’t be like that. He won’t live with regret. He’ll do anything he can to save Mikan, and he’ll die without a single regret. He also claims he won’t give up on the idea of sharing a future with Mikan, and that makes the inevitable doom of their romance all the more tragic. Natsume isn’t planning on dying. He’s not imagining that he doesn’t even have a full two days left to live. He’s thinking he’ll push himself to the end of his rope, save Mikan, and then live happily ever after. It’s naive and childish and ridiculous that he really believes he can have his cake and eat it too, but he does with his whole heart.

"I want to live," is enough for me. I stopped reading after that. LET THIS KID LIVE.

Natsume tells Narumi to stop underestimating him for his age. But Narumi agrees: he doesn’t want Natsume or any of the other kids to end up like him and his generation did. He wants things to be better, for the new generation to have a happy and hopeful future to look forward to instead of surrendering to a life of misery and regret.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine

Natsume and Ruka are something like partners-in-crime now. They both know that taking out the ESP is the only way to free Mikan. They are spying on Reo, who has come under the guise of performing for the New Year’s concert, who spills that Z wants to assassinate the ESP.

Tsubasa and Tono quickly join the conversation, although they’re somewhat unwanted.

Reo keeps talking, and now all four of them are privy to his plan. Tono scolds Natsume for trying to get involved when it’s obvious Z is already on the case. Let them do it, he says. Keep yourself safe instead of putting everything on your own shoulders. Naturally, this is Natsume we’re talking about, so no amount of logic will get into his head, but it was worth a try, Tono.

Natsume's little face here is my favorite. His little angry expressions are always the highlight of any page.

Hearing this warning, Natsume can see the sense in it. He doesn’t want to leave his fiancee alone and heart-broken by his loss (more proof that he doesn’t really believe he’ll die) tomorrow, but to his horror, Koko was reading his thoughts aloud.

Natsume is embarrassed to be put on the spot, and he didn’t want to hurt Ruka’s feelings, so he takes out his anger on Koko. Then he punishes Tsubasa for teasing him about how fast he’s going with Mikan when Tsubasa is actually just slow with Misaki. Then it’s revealed that Tsubasa did finally confess to Misaki and got the answer he wanted, which only pisses Natsume off more, inexplicably. He’d be angry either way, just because it’s Tsubasa. He probably just wants to take the focus off himself and the fact that he’s already proposed to Mikan.

Tsubasa was in fact inspired by Natsume’s commitment to protecting Mikan. He confessed because his kouhai was so determined. But he also expresses concern for Natsume’s recklessness. Protecting people is a worthwhile pursuit, but so is valuing your own life. Other people depend on him and love him, and losing would hurt. He doesn’t have to do everything on his own. Working as a team can ensure his safety and keep him living longer. They’re all on the same page, after all, so why not join forces and get it done more efficiently without Natsume being the martyr again?

Yeah, Natsume, go to therapy. Like, yesterday.

But as the group splits up, Ruka holds Natsume still. He wants to talk about what happened on Christmas, but Natsume doesn’t. He’d rather keep that to himself, not at all willing to hurt Ruka’s feelings after he’s been nothing but supportive.

But he can’t lie, and Ruka has expressed interest in hearing all the truthbombs Natsume can dish out, so he comes clean. They exchanged alice stones. It looks like it pains Natsume to admit it. He’s consumed by guilt for the role he’s played in hurting Ruka. But Ruka is still just happy for him. He again offers congratulations, and all is well until Koko announces that Natsume and Mikan kissed a lot too. Apparently, Natsume has been thinking about the kisses so often and shamelessly to the point that Koko is concerned.

Ruka gets upset, but not out of jealousy. He hits Natsume rather pathetically, adamantly demanding that he be honest and tell him everything instead of keeping secrets all the time. Ruka doesn’t care that Natsume has been “selfish” and has kissed Mikan and gotten engaged with her and met with her. He is a fan! He’s Team NatsuMikan now too! He just wants Natsume to stop lying to him, not even to spare his feelings. If Natsume can’t be honest, then Ruka can’t do his job of supporting him. Friendship is a two-way street and can’t work if the friends can’t rely on each other for help and support. Going through good and tough times together is the key to any lasting relationship, and for that to work Natsume needs to talk to him instead of holding back.

Ruka is so cute here. Absolutely adorable. I shall adopt.

Natsume apologizes and the chapter ends on a light note, with the four of them teasing each other and laughing.

But tomorrow will be a different story. Many horrible things will happen tomorrow night, and the bright future Natsume has finally allowed himself to consider will burn up and die.

Conclusion

In the Rapunzel story, the prince was blinded and forced to walk around the forest unable to look for his lost love. I imagine that's why the chapter title image for Chapter 147 has his face covered in bandages. The story of Rapunzel is a tragic one, but it ends in a happily-ever-after. The consolation we have is that the story of NatsuMikan is more like the story of Rapunzel than of Romeo and Juliet, though it certainly doesn't feel like it for the next thirty-something chapters.

I didn't reread this at all before posting because I'm really tired. Thus, I claim no ownership over any mistakes. They can't be helped.

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[kiwiimmellon134]

ONE LAST TIME

(not my gif!)

summary — in which the resistance’s best fights try and recruit one of the galaxy’s deadliest creature resulting in an unwanted reunion.

word count — 2k words

paring(s) — vampire hunter!poe dameron x fem!vampire!reader

warning(s) — blood, violence, and angst

notes — this vampire au is heavily based on the vampire diaries so this is gonna follow a lot of the supernatural lore of the show. and my first fic on this app, be gentle

Being a vampire wasn’t exactly your cup of tea when it first happened. But the longer you were a vampire, the more you got used to it and the more you embraced it. You were turned by Emperor Palptine himself, the first vampire.

You were the granddaughter of a Sith Lord and it was why Palpatine turned you in the first place. You were a member of the Original Bloodline, the first line of vampires.

The Sith vampires became power hungry and started a war that lasted one thousand years, and is still being fought till now. It began with the Empire, led by your grandmother and Anakin Skywalker.

But then, Luke Skywalker destroyed the Empire’s weapon, seemingly ending the war. Until the First Order rose under you and Kylo Ren.

The First Order had allies among the vampire species. They made sure to make allies with the most deadly creatures in the galaxy. Although, the Resistance had an alliance with the werewolves. Meanwhile, the witches were neutral. The playing field was even since a werewolf bite was toxin and dangerous to vampires.

You had left the First Order a while ago. You finally saw the evils the First Order was doing and left. You snuck away in the middle of the night. You were an ally the Resistance wanted.

General Leia Organa sent her best vampire hunter, Poe Dameron, and his two closest friends, Finn and Rey, to find a new ally for the Resistance. They ended up on a planet named Vela, in hopes of finding this new ally.

"Where did Leia say to search?" Rey asked as the trio walked down the street that was suspiciously empty.

"Here," Poe said, leading them to a bar. Poe, Finn, and Rey entered the bar and were met with a bloody dead body. "Gross," Finn said softly.

They turned into the main room of the bar and saw the horror that waited for them. Blood splattered on the walls and floor, bodies were scattered along the bar and there were some dismembered limbs as well.

Poe looked over at the broomstick resting against the wall. Poe snapped a piece of the broomstick off to make a stake. He only knew about one creature that could create this kind of mess.

Rey swallowed down the distaste in her mouth and felt sick to her stomach. "Holy shit," Rey whispered.

There, in the center of it all, was you, feeding on a dead body with her back facing the trio. You released the man's neck with a snarl and the man's head fell onto the ground with a disgusting thud. You turned around with blood-red eyes and grey veins trickling down from your eyes.

Your mouth and chin were covered in blood. "You've got to be kidding me," Poe commented.

Your eyes turned back to normal and she sighed. "You've got to be kidding me." You said. "Haven't seen you around here in a long time," You added.

"Been busy," Poe answered.

"You know her?" Finn asked.

"I dated her." Finn and Rey turned their heads to look at him, "You what?" Rey asked.

"It's a long story," Poe replied. "It was your typical forbidden romance," You interjected, "Vampire," You pointed to yourself, "Vampire hunter." You pointed to Poe.

"And don't forget the fact you're a manipulative bitch," Poe added.

"Ouch," You put her hand over her heart, "Did my betrayal hurt you that much?"

You met Poe when you were still with the First Order. You found out he was a vampire hunter not long after you met and you came clean about being a vampire to him.

You both tried to make it work. You really did. But you came from opposite sides of the war. Kylo found out about your relationship with him and gave you a choice.

You chose the First Order, which broke your heart but you wanted to stay on the First Order’s good side.

"Okay, who is she?" Rey asked softly.

You introduced yourself to them, "And I come from the Original bloodline. And I'm a Ripper." You explained, "You know what that means?"

When you were met with silence, you answered your own question. "It means I literally can't stop feeding until I tear your head off," You explained, your eyes slowly shifting back to red.

Rey and Finn slowly moved behind Poe since he was the only one relaxed in this situation. "I need to talk to her alone," Poe whispered back to his two friends.

"What?" Finn asked, "Did you not hear what she just said? She will kill you."

"She can't kill me even if she wanted to," Poe replied. He looked at you with a small smirk, "Not unless she wants to deal with me for the rest of her life."

"Don't remind me," You rolled her eyes.

"Let's just say I have supernatural immunity. Go wait outside. This won't take long." Poe said. Rey and Finn hesitantly nodded and left the bar. They were glad to get out of the bar though, it smelt ridiculously bad.

"And what exactly are you planning on doing with that?" You asked, looking down at the stake in his hand, "You think you can kill me? I'm two hundred years older than you."

"I can take you."

You laughed softly, shaking her head slightly. "When did you turn it off? Your humanity?" Poe asked. He knew you wouldn't do it unless you didn't care, if you didn't feel.

"Two years ago." You answered, "I just need to get on human blood. Get off of that rabbit diet my uncle put me on and get back to my roots." Poe glanced down at the floor for a quick moment. Two years ago? You broke up two years ago. Poe looked back up at you.

"General Leia thinks you'll make a good ally to the Resistance. I don't know why since you're the same selfish vampire I've always known." There was a time when Poe really believed you could do good. That you weren’t the same as your family that was currently trying to take over the galaxy.

Just like there was a time where you believed you could change. You wanted to change. For him.

Your face fell for a moment. Just a quick moment as you processed his words. Then, your face hardened again and you replied, "Fucking hell, I lie to you once and you won't let me live it down."

"You could've killed me," Poe argued.

"Yeah, well, I didn't. You know that stupid curse got in the way. Believe me, if the curse didn't exist, I would've torn you apart... And you know it." The Hunter's curse was the only thing stopping vampires such as you from killing hunters like Poe.

If a vampire killed a hunter, the spirit of the hunter would torment the vampire relentlessly for the end of time. Or if the vampire drove a stake through their own heart.

You wiped her chin with the back of your hand and sighed softly. "So, why are you here?" You asked, "You miss me?" You smirked.

"No, I don't," Poe replied, "The Resistance needs your help. We're just asking for some assistance. Then, once the war is over, you can go back to murdering people aimlessly."

"I'm not gonna help you. I like my little neutral alliance. It's... strangely peaceful. I get to kill whoever I want without caring if they're on your side of the First Order's side. And it's not like anyone could come after me. I'm a Sith vampire. I have as much supernatural immunity as you." You rambled.

You took a couple of steps closer to Poe and looked down at his neck, hearing his heartbeat.

You looked up into his eyes and licked your lips.

"Yeah... Thing is... I'm not necessarily asking." Poe said softly. Before you could process what he said, Poe grabbed your throat and slammed your back on a tabletop, holding you down by your neck. He brought up his other hand and stabbed the stake in your chest, causing you to yell in pain.

"Two more inches and I pierce your heart," Poe said, twisting the stake slightly in his hand. You groaned in pain. "So what's it gonna be?" Poe asked.

"God, you're hot..." You whispered softly. You put your hand on his wrist causing his hand to tighten ever so slightly around your throat. "When did you get so hot...?" Poe slowly drove the stake further in her chest, you winced in pain.

"Don't flirt with me."

Your eyes flicked down to the stake and back up at Poe. "You wouldn't..." You argued, "If you did, my entire bloodline would come after you."

"Not like they could kill me," Poe retorted.

"You think the curse is gonna stop them?" You asked, wincing in pain again, "You fuck with one of the Originals and the others will kill you. Curse or not. Besides... You care about me too much to kill me."

Poe leaned down and whispered in your ear, "I couldn't care less about you. Gotta be honest, I might even hate you. So, it looks like our little love story ends here."

You tightened your grip on his wrist and twisted it, pulling his hand off of your neck and a loud snap echoed through the bar. Poe shouted in pain, which alerted Rey and Finn outside, and you kicked him off of her. You pulled the stake out of your heart and got off of the table, the wound already healing.

You grabbed his throat, like what he did to you, and stabbed the stake in his gut, expertly missing everything important. "You hate me?" You asked as Poe groaned from the pain, "That sounds like the beginning of a love story, Poe. Not the end of one." You heard the bar doors open and the footsteps of Rey and Finn coming.

You let go of Poe and used her vampire speed to leave the room before Rey and Finn came into the bar. "Poe!" Finn shouted as he and Rey rushed to Poe's side.

"She doesn't want to help," Poe winced.

"We noticed." Rey retorted.

Poe was fine after a long period of rest. You disappeared again, flying under the First Order's and the Resistance's radar. But Poe's seen the messes she left behind, the amount of people you killed made Poe second guess his belief that you could be good.

The war ended after many more months of fighting. The Resistance didn't need your help to win, but you still would've been a powerful enemy against the First Order. A lot of the vampires went into hiding and the galaxy finally felt peace.

Currently, Poe was back on Yavin IV, his home planet, tending to his x-wing with BB-8 beside him. BB-8 let out an alarmed beep, making Poe turn around. Lingering in the shadows was a figure Poe knew all too well.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked. You stepped out from the overhead shadow and into the light, "I heard the war's over." Poe looked at BB-8, not saying anything. BB-8 turned and rolled away from you two.

"What do you want?" Poe asked.

"I wanted to see you," You replied. "I've been thinking about—"

"—Save it. I don't want to play your games." Poe interrupted.

"Us," You finished her sentence anyways, "I've been thinking about us."

"There is no more 'us'. Not after everything." Poe pointed at you and took one large stride closer to you, "You did this to us."

"And you're right. I know what I did..." You trailed off. Poe could hear the softness in your voice, something was different from the last time they spoke in that bar. "I just... I'm sorry." You spoke softly.

"You turned your humanity back on, didn't you?" Poe asked.

"And I'm off human blood," You continued, "I stopped killing." Poe knew that statement was true, the killings dropped immensely toward the end of the war. You did stop killing.

"Just... Give me another chance. Don't give up on me... please." You pleaded.

"Tell me you didn't come here with the expectation that I would take you back just because you can feel emotions again." You frowned and glanced down.

"I just wanted to see you," You replied, "One last time..." You whispered.

"What does that mean?" Poe questioned.

"I'm..." You trailed off, stumbling slightly because your knees gave out from under you. Poe quickly threw out his arms and caught you before you could hit the ground.

"What’s going on?" Poe asked.

"Some werewolves jumped me a couple days ago..." You explained softly. You grabbed your jacket sleeve and slowly rolled it up your forearm, exposing the infected bite. Poe stared down at the bite mark, shocked.

"Heh... I'm dying..." You chuckled lightly, smiling weakly. Poe reached down and picked up your legs, carrying you bridal style.

"What're you—"

"—Shh."

Poe carried you back to his house and laid you down on his couch in the living room. Poe crouched down beside you and you shifted, getting comfortable.

"Poe..." You muttered.

"Just relax," Poe replied. Poe gently reached up and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I know... You hate me," You began softly, "And that's fine. But I..." You gently put your hand on his cheek, "I love you, Poe. I always have."

He mumbled your name, then used his hand to lower yours.

"What I felt was real... And I hope what you felt was real too... I just want to ask you one thing." You continued.

"What is it?" Poe asked softly.

"You know no vampire has survived a werewolf bite. And you know how painful a bite is in its final stages... I just want you to..." You stopped, taking deep breaths.

"You're asking me to kill you?" Poe asked.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it at the bar..." You replied, "Please... I wouldn't have it any other way." Poe looked down in deep thought.

"There's no way around this. I'm not gonna live..." You laughed slightly, trying to lighten the mood, "This... This is where our love story ends." Despite the weak smile on your face, tears escaped your eyes.

Poe felt tears prick his eyes, "What about your family?"

"I don't even know where they are..." You answered. "Just do this one thing for me..."

Poe remained silent and stood up. "I'll be right back. Try and rest," He said softly. Poe walked away from you, thinking about his options.

He didn't have many. Let you suffer from the werewolf bite or... just put you out of her misery now. There was no cure for a werewolf bite. You were going to die.

Poe entered his room, feeling a heavy weight on his heart. He didn't want to admit it out loud but he did care about her. Deep down. He did.

Poe pulled out a duffle bag from underneath his bed and unzipped it. He reached inside and pulled out a stake. Poe exited his room and headed back toward you.

Poe gently lifted up your upper body and slipped on the couch under you, resting you back on his chest, putting the stake on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Hey," Poe said softly, "I'm here. Just breathe."

You slowly looked up at him, "I can't believe I'm about to die with the entire galaxy thinking I'm a monster... Including you," You said.

"You're not a monster. I spent a long time blaming you for what happened between us. I'm sorry. You deserve peace." Poe said, his voice shaking slightly. Your gaze fell and she saw the stake sitting on the table

"Look at me," Poe mumbled, grabbing your chin and turning your head back up to him.

"Careful. I might think you actually care about me." You joked, your breaths getting shallower and shallower.

"Maybe I do." Poe replied, keeping his voice quiet and soft. Poe moved his hand to grab the stake from the table. Your eyes followed his movements.

"Hey, look at me," Poe said, seeing you look away. You gazed back up at him, "Just keep your eyes on me, yeah? Just look at me. Nothing else." You nodded again.

Poe brought the tip of the stake to your chest with shaky hands and then felt your hand on his, telling him that it's okay. "Don't forget me, okay?" You asked softly.

"I won't..." Poe answered, "I'll never forget you." Poe said softly, tears building in his eyes.

You nodded, tears falling down your face. You could feel him moving his hand back. "Wait," You whispered, using your hand to stop his hand, "Tell me you love me... Even if it's a lie. Please..."

"I love you." Poe replied with a shaky tone. Those words brought you a strange sense of peace. You finally felt peace. You leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes. Poe pulled his hand back slightly and then stabbed your heart.

You gasped and Poe finally let the tears fall. Poe rested his chin on top of your head. Poe looked down and watched your body turn a dark grey color. You were desiccating. You were dead.

Poe sighed defeatedly and planted a kiss on top of your head. "I love you." Poe repeated quietly.

my one tag lol : @damndamer0n

[redspecialstardust]

Scandal - Oneshot (Freddie Mercury X Fem!Reader)

Requested by: @capan-devereaux

One month after the incident at the Rainbow Theater, you and now Freddie fall victim to bad press; there's gotta be a way to put these rumors to rest...

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: language, rumours, unwanted touching, attempted sexual assault (it doesn't go anywhere)

A/N: This fic is a sequel to Always Look After You; read it here. Can be read as OG Freddie or the BoRap version.

Freddie woke to himself facedown in the sheets of his king sized bed; the scent of the fresh bedding filled his nostrils, giving him sort of a gentle waking as he snuggled down into the mattress some more and forced his heavy eyes open to check the bedside clock which read 7:30 am. The time made him groan...for a party animal like himself, it was way too early for him to get up. The bed was warm, and so were the sunrise's rays on his back. You must have opened the curtains before he woke. but tired or not, he didn't want to sleep all day, knowing you two would barely get any alone time.

Choosing that there was no point sleeping in when he didn't have you next to him, the tired singer dragged his ass out of bed and threw on one of his many silk kimono robes. He let you know he was up by letting out a loud yawn on his way down the stairs. Just as he thought, you were sitting at the dining table with a newspaper one hand and a croissant in the other. Upon hearing your boyfriend's unsubtle yawn, you grabbed the coffee pot next to you and poured him a cup, preparing it just the way he liked it. Freddie entered the room still dazed from sleep but woke a bit more upon seeing you. Just like him, you were wearing a robe and had some pretty good bedhead going. The table had a couple of food trays with some eggs, croissants and fruit on them. He crossed the room and kissed the top of your head before sitting next to you.

"Good morning, Darling."

"Morning, Fred. How'd you sleep?"

"Like a drunken barfly, how about you?" He asked, placing some fruit on his plate.

"Eh. Same old same old." You responded. That could only mean that it wasn't very restful. Freddie always worried when you said that. This past month had been tough for you both, and the reason why was plastered all over the front page of the paper. Today's headline read: "Mercury & (L/N): Canoodling Cahoots?" Once again, the media was all over the Rainbow Theater incident and had been ever since that conference where your stalker had appeared at and made an enormous scene. To make things worse, Freddie was being dragged in on it too.

The same day of the conference, he released a photo of the injuries you received from trying to escape the perv's grip. It was a simple Polaroid taken an hour after the attack and displayed your arm with small, but deep scratches where you'd been grabbed. At first it seemed like you were in the clear, but as usual, people were looking for any way to create more gossip. Now all the papers were saying that you and Freddie staged the photo and he was just trying to cover for you since he was your boyfriend.

Oh yeah, and somehow news got out you two were dating. The stress seemed to be eating at you more than anyone a part of Queen. Over time Freddie noticed you were sleeping less and eating like a bird. Even with you being the first one up, he saw the fatigue on your complexion and ridiculously small amount of food on your plate; if you could even call it that...a croissant and a teacup of coffee? That wouldn't satisfy anybody.

"Dear, would you please put at least a couple of eggs on your plate? You're getting slimmer."

"What's wrong with slimming down?" You asked, not even looking up from the paper.

He was very frustrated lately. Sometimes he ended up saying things that were very insensitive.

"You know full well you don't need to lose weight. And for goodness' sake, why do you keep reading the papers? You know they aren't going to say anything nice. You're starting to look like a creature Edgar Allen Poe created!"

You threw the paper down on the table, frustrated that another fight about the headlines was starting up again. On and off for the past four weeks, you and Freddie were getting into heated arguments over what the hell you were supposed to do about the situation. You suggested moving a way for a bit, but Freddie said that would only be letting the gossip win.

"I know! I'm sorry! I just...I know they're saying bad things, but I can't ignore it. It's too much. Freddie, we were supposed to be happy together, not be harrassed by the paparazzi everytime we look at the TV or pick up the paper." By this point, your head fell into your hands and the small sharp pains of forming tears were hurting your eyes.

Oscar and Romeo were under the table the whole time and came to their mama's rescue upon hearing the sniffles. One purred around your ankle while the other gently pawed at your bare foot. Through the watery view of your eyes, you reached down and picked up Oscar, holding him firmly to your chest. The orange tabby purred in response. Freddie sighed; damn it, he went too far again didn't he? The frontman got up from his seat and stood you up, facing him with his gentle brown eyes locked onto yours.

"Come on." You snuggled into his side as his arm locked around your side and led you to the couch in the sitting room. Before even reaching the luxurious couch in front of the TV, you found him sweeping you up into his arms and carrying your frame bridal style. With the utmost care he placed you down on the sofa and sat down nearby, placing your head in his lap. Still sniffling, you looked up at him, muttering a thank you.

"Darling, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean those things, really I didn't. But I'm getting very worried about you. All the stress of these wrongful allegations are eating away at every level of health."

"I'm sorry too, Freddie." Breaking eye contact with him and staring ahead at the power off television screen across the room.

"For what?" He questioned, truly puzzled but his tone remaining calm.

"I've been so selfish. This whole time, I've done nothing but worry about what everyone's saying about me and I didn't stop to think about how hard this had been for you and the band or their families. I mean, maybe I am a selfish bitch like the papers are saying..."

There was a frightening silence between you for like ten seconds. At first it seemed like he silently agreed with you, but without warning, he quickly sat you up, making you gasp a bit and then pulled you onto his lap in a sitting position. The movement had been so swift, you were looking into his eyes for 3 seconds before it clicked what happened.

"Look at me." He firmly commanded. "Are you even hearing yourself? You're letting them get to you. This was not your fault. It never was. Yes, the reporters are saying awful things about me and the boys too, but we can handle it; plus, we know that what you went through was terrifying and we don't blame you for pondering on it so much. (Y/N), we love you...I love you, and we'll get through this, okay?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged as tightly as possible without strangling him.

"Thank you Freddie. I love you so much."

He kissed your lips this time and suggested that you both just relax for now and watch TV today. Everyone needed a break during a time like this with the rumors practically suffocating Queen while they were trying to work so it seemed like keeping all the prejudice fans waiting for the next album was sufficient punishment for now. Feeling much better you crawled off of Freddie's lap and cuddled against his side, giving him permission to flick the television on. Channel after channel it seemed like there wasn't anything that good on so he handed you to remote to keep clicking while he checked the TV guide. After only two clicks, you paused on the news, displaying yet another distressing headline:

"(Y/N) (L/N): Malice For Mercury?"

This was the worst one yet. The TV displayed a live report, with a journalist standing right outside Garden Lodge's gate, this time the theories had resorted to desperate measures saying that the only reason you claimed this man put his hands on you was to get attention from Freddie and that you were trying to ruin his career for him cheating on you. Cheating on you? Freddie hadn't left your side since you started dating last month. The news then showed video of Freddie walking home with his arm around some mystery woman that nobody recognized.

"BOLLOCKS!" Freddie hollered while jumping to his feet. Normally he would have kept his cool about something like this, but this so called mystery woman on the screen was his little sister, Kashmira. She came by every weekend to have dinner with Freddie and you; it was a very nice time to look forward to and the fact that they were using his sister's face as some shady floozy pissed both of you off beyond belief. Granted, the press didn't know much about Freddie's family because he liked to keep his family life private, but this was a new low. Sensing Freddie's rage beginning to boil, you turned off the TV and had took him gently by the arms.

"Freddie, sweetheart, you're shaking. I need you to calm down."

He looked ready to explode.

"They--they're attacking my blood now!"

"I know! I know honey." You pulled him in for a hug and rubbed his back. "Just please calm down; I don't want your blood getting up more over this, too." He wrapped his arms around you accepting the comfort you provided. You could feel his heart angrily pounding against his chest where the side of your face was resting.

They were really getting to him too and it broke your heart to see him upset because he had been trying his hardest to be strong for you and in between that it's like he forgot it was completely okay to be upset. No matter what either of you tried, you couldn't get away from the chaos of these made up stories. People swarmed you at the studio, they blindsided the guys at their houses, and just now, there were people hanging outside the gate, waiting to aggravate the victims of these rumors even more. By this point they had forced everyone in Queen to go into hiding, and all for ratings.

All day long, you and Freddie spent your time checking all the doors and windows in paranoia; the constant chatter of reporters and the innumerable amount of flashing cameras was extremely distressing, causing you two to finally head upstairs and stay there for the rest of the day and into the night. Things seemed to settle around midnight, and left you and Freddie lounging on the bed together finally getting some quiet time. Lying on your sides, heads resting in your hands, you found it so much easier to talk about all this crap in the peace of each other's space.

"What are we gonna do, Fred? It won't stop."

"It will darling, trust me. We just need to wait this out and they'll get bored."

"We can't just hide until it's over with, we're not living anymore."

He sighed. You were right, but he just didn't know what to do anymore to make it better.

"I wish I could just say what happened and have them believe us." He said. The sweet gesture made you reach your hand across the space between you and stroke his charcoal black hair. The texture was soft to the touch and very soothing under your fingers. Freddie adored the attention and pulled you into his chest where he held you tighter than a child would hold a stuffed animal and muttered into your hair.

"If only they knew that man's true nature. For goodness' sake, they saw it at the conference."

That's when a light went off over your head. An idea came with just that little statement. An idea on how you were going to get your lives back.

"Freddie, you're a genius."

Two days later, every television in England was broadcasting one of its most interesting stories yet: Freddie Mercury and his girlfriend were willing to invite the alleged attacker to Garden Lodge for afternoon tea in an attempt to patch things over and move on with your lives. The day the announcement was made, you and Freddie had braved going outside for the first time in a while and were being interviewed in the inside of a downtown theater. As usual, many questions were being thrown at the both of you about the situation.

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Will you be friends with this guy afterwards?"

"Who do you think will apologize first?"

The whole time the questions flew, Freddie protectively kept his hand on yours. He wanted you to know it was all going to be okay, and you knew it was too, since your plan was bound to work if this guy was really as sick as he let on that night. Once in a while when responding to questions you two found yourselves glancing at one another to confirm whether your responses or not would be adequate. Freddie said that the change of heart came from the fatigue of feeling the need to hide and that a friendship with the man was uncertain. As for who would apologize first, it took some pride swallowing, but you managed to push out "I will."

Hours later, countless reporters were once again camped outside the mansion and kept every camera rolling for this groundbreaking story. Your pervert arrived on the dot for tea and used the doorbell on the door's exterior. The bell's ringing echoed through the manor and made you shiver at the idea of him being right outside. This same guy who left scratches on your arm was about to walk into yours and Freddie's home.

"Just breathe, Darling; your plan is gonna work."

"It better." You sighed.

Opening the door, you caught sight of his eyes. They seemed friendly enough, but nevertheless had this darkness lurking behind them.

"Derek, hi! Come on in."

"Thanks." He said, still seeming kind.

You and Freddie shook his hand and led him into one of the nicer sunlit rooms that normally wasn't used for tea unless you were having a guest. Compared to the rest of the rooms, it was a moderate, even small size. In the center of the room sat a coffee table decked with all the proper items to have at tea. A delicate white teapot painted in yellow and white with matching cups were placed properly there along with classic tea cakes and finger sandwiches. Either side of the table ends had a small couch pushed closely enough for anyone to reach over and grab what they needed off the table while sitting. Freddie shared one of the couches with you while Derek sat on the other. It only took staring at him again for a moment before you realized your breathing was becoming a bit laboured from your nerves causing a faster pulse; this was happening? This trash was in the house? But, still trying to be a gracious host, you picked up the pot and began to pour a cup for all three of you. Watching the steam rise from the cup made you wanna remove the lid and splash the hot drink into his face, but it wasn't part of the plan, so best keep it under control. After pouring your cup and sitting beside Freddie once again, he thanked you and everyone began to add what they wanted to the cups: sugar, cream, lemon etc. All three finished at the same time and raised their cups in a cheers like fashion.

"To a fresh start." Freddie grinned.

"To a fresh start." You repeated, trying not to sounding nervous. Derek copied and you sipped in unison. For a few very uncomfortable minutes nobody said anything while enjoying the tea and snacks; you all knew nobody wanted him here, and the tension in this Mexican stalemate caused you to move in and say what you had to.

"Derek, um, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have attacked you like that; it was wrong to do something so awful to a fan of ours."

Ugh. That one hurt your pride.

"Thank you for that." Derek answered.

Freddie scooter close to you, placing his hand gently on your knee.

"I apologize too Derek. I shouldn't have used you as a punching bag. You see, when I thought that you had put your hands on her, it infuriated me and I was just trying to protect her. I'm sure you would have done the same for someone you care about."

"Well I can't blame you for that." Derek responded, smiling, but offered no apology himself. That's okay, you really didn't expect one. He took another sip of the tea and carefully placed it down. Something was definitely turning in his mind and none of it looked good.

"I'll accept your apology on one condtion: I want a quarter of a million dollars. It's the least you could do for compensation." The absolute balls! He knew none of this would be even happening if he didn't put his hands on you and now he wants a reward for getting his ass kicked? No, no way, you didn't care what happened after this, he wasn't getting a cent off either of you, but this could still work with what you had in mind.

You scoffed, jumping to your feet "I don't think so. We're trying to put this all behind us and then you come and pull this crap asking for money after leaving scratches on me and making our lives miserable? No! No you're not getting any money!"

Derek's face returned to that same vindictive grimace he had when he tried to throw himself at you, and it scared you to death. As he stood up too, Freddie instantly moved to protect you by standing as well and moving you behind him. He wasn't about to let someone punk him in his own house, no way! He didn't take bull.

"Fine. Don't gimme the money, I'll just go out and tell the reporters how much I tried to be friends and now the great Freddie Mercury and his slut are tightfisted with the compensation. You think your lives are bad now? Wait till the news gets ahold of this."

Freddie nearly lunged to attack, but you grabbed his shoulder, holding him back.

"Freddie, no! This isn't worth it. Just give him the money."

"But he--"

"Freddie please! I want our lives back."

It took a minute, but after looking between you and Derek, Freddie saw the fear in your eyes and it broke his heart. You shouldn't have to live in fear this way and he barely deserved you as it is. What the hell, money wasn't nearly as valuable as you. With a moment of his pride swallowed, he said he'd have to go all the way upstairs into the bedroom to get the checkbook. As he disappeared from the room, you gave Derek a bad staredown.

"So what's a perv like you gonna do with all that money?"

He shrugged. "Maybe buy you for the night." Rolling your eyes in disgust you let him know that was never gonna happen because he was an immature child; a man who threw a fit because he wasn't getting what he wanted, and then that's what set it off. He crossed the room getting right in your face.

"Fight all you want baby, I like it when they think they can get rid of me. I should left more than a few scratches on you; had it been just you and me, I would have treated you no differently than the floozies I pick up every Thursday." He grabbed both of your arms again, no not again! As soon as you hit the furniture, he pinned your arms down, to the sides and forced his lips onto yours. You tried to turn your head and struggle hard but he was so strong.

"Get off me!"

"Scream, and I'll kill Mr. Mustache. One way or another, I'm getting what I came for." He began to unzip your jacket but before anything else could happen, a gold flashy force knocked him off you and held him to the carpet. It was Queen's drummer Roger; he'd been hiding in a nearby closet, listening to everything so he could spring into action if anything went too far.

"Stay down, rapist! Did you get that, Deaky?"

To Derek's surprise, John Deacon the bassist popped out from behind a large potted tree in the corner of the room with a large camera in his grip. He signaled a yes, letting you all know they got everything they needed. Video was really all they needed to convict him, but to rub it in his face even more, you reached down your shirt and pulled out a wire, letting him know your bra had been bugged. That's right, you and the boys took two days planning this to catch Derek in the act and it worked perfectly. Almost on cue, Brian and Freddie escorted a group of officers into the room demanding they remove the root of all your problems.

The next day everyone in the band attended yet another conference to discuss everything and it was amazing; all the reporters who'd wrongfully accused you were now practically kissing your ass. There was nothing more satisfying than feeling this huge weight off your shoulders and the whole truth coming to light. Everyone in Queen received a formal apology from everybody and to even let you all know that Derek wasn't going to be even eligible for parole until he was 82. It's ok. By that time, every inmate would make him their girlfriend; no way he'd survive that.

"Freddie, with Derek finally behind bars and the your lives returning to normal, what's the first thing you're gonna do?"

Brian, Roger and John said they were just going to enjoy the peace with their wives an kids for now. They earned it after all, didn't they? As for Freddie, he took you in his arms, dipped your body, and left an enormous kiss on your lips. Upon standing you back in place, he said.

"I'm going to take the love of my life to Munich for a while. As happy as we are that everything is going back to normal, we haven't been able to just relax and laugh with each other since we started dating. Don't worry, the album will still be done on time. But for now, I just want it to be me and her. I love you with all my heart (Y/N) (L/N)."

"I love you too Freddie Mercury. Thank you so much for being there."

"I'll always look after you."

THE END

Thanks for checking this out! Find more from me on the Masterlist

[poeedamerons]

I can't believe you let him down (but the proof is in the way he hurts)

Day 5: Canon, canon divergence, what-ifs, fix-its - Read it at AO3

Kyle Valenti started with little things.

So little that even Alex’s military training wouldn’t be able to pick up on anything off. He wanted it to feel slow and organic, to keep Alex as unaware as he could of the reasons behind his behavior.

Kyle was a better guy now than the one he was during high school for sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a straight up asshole if he wanted to be. It was ridiculously easy for him to fall back considering that the target of his asshole-ness was Michael Guerin.

Maria wasn’t innocent either but, call him sexist, he wasn’t about to be so combative to a girl. Sue him. Besides, Maria would answer better to passive aggressiveness.

But Guerin? He never liked the prick and he now had even more reasons not to like him. Not to imply on speciesism, but Roswell would have been so much better without the alien trio without the alien trio causing havoc in their very much mortal, and fragile, lives.

And Alex Manes had already been through too much suffering in his life. His father is an abusive asshole and his brothers were good little soldiers from birth that just stood there and watched as the abuse happened. Kyle,himself, was a bully to Alex during their school years - something he very much regretted and would go to the fucking ends of earth to make amends for his past conduct - and back then he did not allow Alex to have a peaceful existence in school. Finally, he went to a bloody war and lost his leg as a farewell gift for all his sacrifice. All of that and they weren’t on their thirties.Alex had lived many lives and, so far, none of them had been pleasant.

The only moments he knew Alex had felt something akin to happiness and joy were the ones involving Michael and Maria, and they had fucked that up. They threw his feelings and trust right back in his face like it was meaningless trash. Kyle Valenti was not the greatest guy around, but he would be damned if he allowed those two to get away with hurting his best friend unscathed.

Alex and Kyle had developed a quick and unexpected friendship; a bond forged while investigating Project Shepherd, strengthened as they discovered the sick and twisted lengths their fathers had gone to in order to keep their experimentations - and the truth about the existence of aliens - a secret..

If anyone in this town could understand him, it would be Alex Manes. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes he did in high school.

And that is why he cursed himself, raging with anger for taking so long to connect the dots between the recent events in Roswell to the trio. He was livid for being so caught up in his grief for his father’s death and alien mess to notice that Alex was suffering right beside him before it was too late.

Which lead Kyle to his current plan of sorts. He didn’t begin it intentionally, but once that Kyle saw the look in Michael Guerin’s eyes, he knew he had that jerk right where he wanted him.

It all started after Maria and Michael started to appear around town together, awfully close, with their fingers interlaced. The sight always leaves Alex stiff as a board, with sweaty palms and a dark, hurt look in his eyes.

Kyle had no idea how Maria and Michael could live with themselves knowing that they were the cause of so much hurt. And that meant a lot coming from someone like himself that used to be a certified bastard not a decade ago.

But one day, as they left the Crashdown, laughing about nothing, they spotted Roswell’s newest couple coming in their direction and Kyle wrapped his arms protectively around Alex, without a thought. He glared daggers at Michael, while Maria, the coward, looked away, down at the pavement, cowardly and embarrassed (as she fucking should be, the traitor). But his arms went around Alex his saw flicker of something on Michael’s own gaze, something he, himself, was guilty of once with Liz and Max: jealousy.

The fact that he even had the gall to feel jealous towards Alex made Kyle’s blood boil. Wasn't he the one that left Alex for hours waiting for him? Wasn't he the one that went after Alex's best friend? Wasn't he the one who couldn't even bother to tell Alex to his face that they were done?

Michael Guerin was an undeserving prick with an impressively short temper. He didn’t want that alien anywhere near Alex, and he was going to make sure Alex saw how much better he was away from someone as unstable as Guerin.

And that was when he started with little things.

Smiles that lingered, hands that always touched Alex's body, small hugs, more than friendly shoulder bumps, sharing food and inside jokes. Every week he would add a little thing here and there, nothing to cause Alex to raise those brows, but enough to make sure the other man was comfortable. Kyle wasn't perfect, but he understood the rules of consent and Alex deserved someone to do this thing properly.

After almost three months of shoulder bumps and increasingly lingering touches he finally developed to his personal favorite: soft kisses on his cheek or temple.

It had startled Alex at first, but it had been followed with full body laughter from the other man and, Kyle had to be honest, it was the first time since the whole... Michael thing that he had seen Alex laugh with such joy.

He liked that a lot.

Guerin hadn't seen this latest development, but Kyle was eager for his reaction. Maria, on the other hand, had seen it. Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth dropped a little and her expression turned sour, her nose even creased a little.

It might have been cute if he had any amount of empathy for her.

Maria’s expression was all the confirmation he needed to know that things in paradise weren't doing so great. Like most people, she had noticed Michael’s temper tantrums - as he so fondly named them in his mind - after seeing Alex and Kyle together.

In a small town like Roswell it was inevitable they would bump on each other on a regular basis, and Kyle made sure he used those moments to annoy Michael as much as possible.

Just as he predicted, it didn’t take long for Michael to start acting up. In the beginning, he would just seethe from a distance, his face twisted in a snarl and his eyes would burn holes in their backs. The cherry on top was when Michael finally started escalating his reactions to heated words, always causing a scene. He was yet to elevate his anger to violence, but Kyle wasn’t ruling that out.

In short, he had to contain his glee every time Michael would go off. He would immediately ruin the mood for everyone around them (which, admittedly, did suck a little because sometimes he was just tired and wanted to have a nice time with his friends, but priorities). Alex, bless his heart, was always there to defend Kyle’s honor. Liz and Max would try lighten up the situation - and fail miserably -, and Maria, after the first few times she tried to pull Michael away from wherever they were at (not The Wild Pony though, they hadn't set foot there in months) with a exasperated look on her face.

At this point, he was glad that Alex’s worries about Michael were more directed at his sudden child-like behavior than everything that had that happened between them.

As if Michael wasn't a man-child every second of his life, but Kyle's opinion on Michael's maturity level wasn't really relevant..

Kyle didn't feel even slightly guilty about the drama he was causing. If anything, this was karma coming to bite them in the ass, Kyle was just a facilitator. Besides, it wasn't like anyone could prove that he was doing anything on purpose without Isobel taking an unwanted, and unwelcome, wander into his mind.

As far as everyone was concerned, Kyle was just being a good friend to the youngest Manes in his hour of need. He had it on good authority that, though as a small town Roswell was still a little homophobic, Maria and Michael's 'relationship' was looked down on somewhat after finding out the less-than-kosher circumstances of its conception. People said things, as they always did, but Maria put a swift stop to whatever she heard as quickly as possible.

Or at least she tried.

Admittedly, Kyle had no idea where he was going with this, or what he was trying to achieve in the grand scheme of things. He acted more on his need to protect his friend than having a well thought out plan. And while it had been nice to make Alex smile, and keep their research going without any alien-related emergencies, he was digging himself a hole he was afraid he would get buried in.

The only thing that could be said about the intended result when he set this plan (for lack of a better word) in motion was the inevitable ruin of Michael Guerin. What he hadn't expected to happen was to develop feelings for Alex. Up until a few months ago, he was secure of his heterosexuality but now all cards were off the table and Alex Manes had him questioning everything. And Kyle was left without a single person in this town to turn for help.

To make matters worse, he knew his feelings couldn’t be reciprocated by Alex. They never talked about it - an unspoken agreement that Alex would share his feelings when he was ready - but Kyle was certain that Alex was still in love with one angry, alien cowboy (though why, Kyle couldn't fathom and he had tried, honestly, he really had. Maybe it was a height thing?). Those feelings couldn’t be dismissed easily, at least, not if you were a decent, functioning person.

It was like a cruel joke made personally by the alien gods to torment him.

So, he was stuck in inevitability of falling head over heels for Alex Manes without a clue on how to deal with the repercussion of those feelings. After so many months of healing, he was quite confident that Alex was finally able to be happy again and he couldn't jeopardize that with a case of unwanted feelings that could mess up another of Alex friendships.

He was happy with how things were, really. Alex’s friendship made him incredibly happy. It just wasn’t ideal, all things considered, but he would just have to suck it up and be the supportive anchor Alex needed in his life and hold onto the little things to survive.

God, he was a helpless case.

-----

Kyle would be embarrassed later that day because he should have seen that punch coming. Istead, before he had any chance to react, he felt the sharp pain blossom across his face, starting in his nose, and the taste of copper on his mouth. It hurt like a bitch. It might have been the pain talking but he was almost sure he heard the distinct crack of something breaking. To make matters worse, his body was hurled sideways with the force of the impact, hitting the pavement with a painful smack.

After that, things got kind of blurry. His ears throbbed, and and sounds seemed miles away, blurred like he was underwater, but Alex's angry words cut through into Kyle's consciousness.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing, Guerin?” Kyle wanted to know the same thing, what did Michael Guerin think he was doing? He had the girl he chose on his arm, what else did he want? Did he really think Alex would just wait on a shelf in case things fell through? Kyle had known, realistically, that he'd been looking for trouble, but damn if he hadn't really thought about what the actual consequences of his actions would be.

Kyle had no idea what the other voices were saying, but he but he thought he could hear a female voice - Maria, probably - trying to cut into the arguing.

Alex snorted sarcastically at whatever it was said, and Kyle could feel gentle hands helping him up. “Kyle, did you hurt yourself when you fell?” Alex’s eyes darted over his body frantically, trying to assess all the damage.

He tried to shake his head, like he wasn't a trained doctor and knew better than to do something like that with a head injury, and the world pitched to the side. It seemed that Guerin had used some kind of alien strength - was that a thing? - on him, because he'd never felt this wrecked after a punch before. And Kyle had been punched a lot.

Liz showed up beside them, carrying ice wrapped in a white cloth. “Here, lean your head back,” her face was tense and filled with worry. Kyle was pretty sure he was alive, but if the look on Liz's face was anything to go by then his face was pretty messed up.

Kyle stomach twisted and a burning feeling went up his throat. He didn't really want to add 'choking on his own vomit' to the list of things that happened today, thank you very much.

Alex was using a piece of the cloth to try and stem the flowing blood, careful of hurting the other man. Before he could say anything to Kyle, his attention turned sharply to the voices still arguing behind them, his gaze stony.

"That's rich coming from you two," his voice was laced with poison, hurt and anger. Kyle never saw Alex like this. It was downright frightening. "Go back to your girlfriend, Guerin. Or are you suffering from an unknown alien condition that made you forget the past months?"

He might be still bleeding lightly and a bit dizzy, but Alex’s face told him he was not going to back down.

"You chose this, live with it." Alex took a deep breath and interlock their fingers. "If you don't like this, that's your problem, Michael. If you don't like this, that's your problem. It's time to look away, Guerin, you've made your position clear, and this is me making mine. Attack him again and you deal with me." his voice a clear threat, and the meaning behind his words clear.

Kyle was stunned right then. His nose was a wreck of dried and still-drying blood, it was probably starting to get a pretty spectacular bruise. The pain was still lacing through him, stealing every other breath, but Kyle somehow still had enough functioning brain cells for him to understand: Alex was not in love with Michael anymore. He would have never had the heart to make such a threat if he did.

Guerin, for the first time, elicited a feeling out of Alex Manes that was not love and he didn't even need to look to the man in question to see that he wasn't ready for it either. It was probably hitting him at that very moment that whatever he ever had with Alex was lost forever.

If Kyle was a better man, he would feel some compassion, but he is not, and - if you asked Kyle - Michael had it coming. Plus, he fucking broke his nose and Kyle was in too much pain to even bask in the glory of his success. He guessed this was what people meant when they said 'success comes at a cost'.

"You wouldn't," Michael's voice wavered.

“You really don’t want to try me, Guerin,” Alex was in full soldier mode, but his grip was firm on Kyle’s arms, shielding him away from view. “I am not my father, but I will not stand for unnecessary violence and you – or Max and Isobel, for that matter – to use your powers unwarrantedly on humans like this. You could have killed him!” Alex was seething. “You forget where I have been, what I have seen and what I have done. I will not allow that to be for nothing, Guerin. I will protect my own."

Just like that Alex delivered his final blow to Michael Guerin. It was clear as day that he was no longer important to Alex, an almost love at best. A footnote in the story of Alex's life, if Kyle had any say.

Kyle really didn’t want to be in the alien's shoes right now, and he was the one with a bleeding nose.

"Come on," Alex voice was softer now, worried expression causing his brows to crease up in a way that made Kyle want to smooth away with a kiss to his forehead. "Let's fix you up. Can't have that pretty-boy face marred." he joked lamely, but Kyle was a sucker for that man that he would have laughed and kissed him if it didn’t hurt so much to move his face or breathe.

Alex gently guided him out of the Crashdown and into his truck. He kept shooting Kyle side glances, maybe to check on him, he wasn’t sure. They fell into a comfortable silence, but he couldn’t help but notice that Alex fingers we still interlaced with his.

He was guided to the passenger door, but before he could climb in, Alex stopped him. “Let me see,” He removed the cloth gently from Kyle’s nose, aware of any dried blood that might have glued to the material. He inspected what little he could see, his face contorted a little. “Well, let’s hope it doesn't get crooked.”

“WHAT?” Alex laughed at the look of abject horror that crossed Kyle's face.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be alright,” he motioned for Kyle to get in, closing the door with a loud thud. “Even if it gets crooked it will probably look distinguished on you,” Kyle could hear the smile in his voice. “But I am pretty sure it’s broken more than one place.”

“Is that supposed to calm me down, Manes?” He complained as Alex jumped in the driver's seat, putting his seat belt on and starting the truck.

“At least I tried,” Kyle wasn’t mad, the soft comforting way Alex was looking at him right now was worth a crooked nose a thousand times over. “Hey,” Alex’s voiced wavered, his eyes now focused on the road. “I’m really sorry that he punched you.”

“No, Alex,” Fucking Michael Guerin was a never-ending source of misery to Alex. “This is not your fault, okay?” he needed to assure him. “It was all on him, he punched me, totally unprovoked.” Not really, but semantics.

“Yeah, but,” Alex struggled to get the words out. “He only punched you because he thought we were together.”

While Kyle definitely would not mind that part being true, but he had other things to focus. “Even if we were, it still wouldn’t justify him punching me, Alex,” he really wished they had that conversation any other time of their lives, one that did not involve blood. “He’s dating her,” Kyle doesn’t think he will ever be able to refer to either of them without a little of revulsion in his voice. “He has no right to be upset over you being with anyone else.”

Alex choked on a broken laugh. “I know,” but Kyle was starting to doubt if he really did. “It’s just…never mind,” Alex shrugged. “I am sorry then that I implied we might be together.”

Dear, sweet Alex really should not be doing this to him right now.  “I was not offended,” he bumped their shoulders and Alex smiled.

“You have changed, haven't’ you?” his voice was small.

“I like to think I matured,” Alex snorted at that. “Hey, rude, Manes.” they were both grinning now. “I was punched by an extraterrestrial creature because of you, I could have died. You should be nice to me.” he joked lightly, trying to lift Alex’s spirits.

The things he did for love, honestly, but at least Alex was highly amused now. “We have arrived, my knight in shining armour.”

Kyle’s knees buckled a little, he wasn’t going to lie. He even leaned his body towards Alex in a moment of weakness, but the other man jumped out of the truck before he could have done anything stupid.

His head fell back in defeat. His life was a mess and Alex Manes was the reason behind it.

---

It takes two weeks for his nose to fully heal.

It had been broken in in too many tiny places to ever be the same but, to his relief, the crookedness was a subtle one, almost imperceptive to the human eye. And, in some stroke of luck, his breathing was breathing free of any abnormalities. Thank fuck.

Alex had been the perfect nurse, refusing to allow him to stay in his apartment alone during his recovery. He tried to protest, but the idea of Alex fussing all over him was too good to be denied with too much fervour.

If he hadn’t been in love then, he would have been now. His days in the cabin had been almost dream-like. They fell into such a domestic pattern that his heart fluttered every time Alex looked at him.

Kyle took the opportunity to get closer than before. As soon as the heavy pain medication was taken out of his daily routine, he had started surprising Alex with meals, Netflix and chill sessions and foot massages.

He lost count of how many times he woke up laying on the couch, his arms around Alex and his nose buried in his neck, while whatever show they fell asleep during was still playing in the background.

Going back to his apartment had been literal hell.

They got so involved in their own little world they built that it took a week for the news of Maria’s and Michael’s break up to reach them. It turned out that, after he and Alex had left for the hospital, the former couple had a huge fight over Michael’s reaction and when questioned by Maria if he still had feelings for Alex, the small hesitance of the alien was everything she needed to know to walk away.

His eyes were glued to Alex when Liz told them that, gauging his reaction, afraid his previous assertion during the fight might have been nothing more than wishful thinking.

While he looked a little bit pained, it wasn’t because he felt anything for Michael. It was an overall sadness for how catastrophically things had turned out for all of them. Hurt that might never heal, their friendship irreversibly destroyed.

What surprised him though, was Alex’s hands reaching out for his. As if he was seeking for comfort or reassurance. It still wasn’t what he wanted, but for the moment it felt like everything.

---

The arrival of a stranger in Roswell wouldn’t have passed by Kyle’s radar if said stranger wasn’t so bent in grabbing Alex attention to himself. The man, Jacob, had been less than obvious in his attempts to flirt with Alex, who always laughed at Jacob’s remarks.

It made Kyle green with envy.

Jacob was an ex-military like Alex himself, one with enough information about the depth of Project Shepherd and the damage it was still capable of doing, that agreed to help them in their own attempt to shut it down.

Kyle, to his chagrin, had been the one to find Jacob and invite him to spend a few days around town so they could talk without the fear of being taped. He now regretted ever sending for the man.

He will admit that talking to Alex proved to be more difficult than he expected. Talking to him would change everything in case Alex didn’t feel the same, and he was not ready to give up what they had. Things were almost perfect, and it would take a little more than a strong breeze to topple it to crash it all over.

But the presence of the older man had him sweating with anxiety. He was never one to wallow in silence, but Alex had made a complete fool out of him. Then again, no one had made him feel so raw with emotion, so vulnerable.

And the sight of Alex rolling with laughter as Jacob hovered over him this morning at the Crashdown was enough to have him make his mind up and strengthen his resolve. He would stop waiting for the right moment and would go after his man.

After one of the most traumatising conversations of his life with Liz, he finally managed to get her to spill some of Alex’s kinks. He would deal with the man’s indignation over violating his privacy later, but for now he called in sick and went shopping so he could gear up.

So, here he was, with tight jeans, silver belt buckle, white button up shirt, tan jacket, black cowboy boots and a black Stetson. He knew he looked hot; I mean he had seen himself on the mirror, but the get up made him feel a little bit stupid; but go big or go home right?

He hoped that Alex appreciated the effort though.

He took the long drive to Alex’s cabin, not only so he could muster up the courage, but also to avoid passing anywhere near town. He wasn’t ready for other people to see him like this. It felt almost cartoonish.

But if Alex had a thing for the cowboy aesthetic who was he to judged? After all he was trying to use that to his advantage.

Kyle parked right outside Alex’s cabin, taking a sobering breath before opening the car door. The path towards the porch never felt so heavy. Kyle wished he had brought some booze. He could use some liquid courage.

He knocked on the door and Alex voiced echoed outside. “Coming,” he could hear the steps behind the door and his knees buckled. It was too late to run away and fucking Alex Manes had him acting like a twelve year old boy that did not knew how to deal with a crush.

Pathetic.

“Hey, Ky-” Alex's greeting was cut short when his gaze fell onto Kyle, standing looking like a cowboy at the threshold of his cabin. “Why are you dressed like that?” His brows creased.

Oh fuck. He had no idea what he was going to say.

Thinkthinkthinkthink a little voiced whispered inside his head.

“Kyle?” Alex’s voice was now amused. “Are we late to a costume party I was not aware of?”

The cruelty was almost too much to bear. Alex was going to laugh.

“I better go,” His eyes refused to make contact with Alex’s, turning himself to go back to the car and admit defeat by humiliation.

“Wait,” Alex called holding his arm. “Where you going, cowboy?” Wow, Alex had to go there hadn’t he?

“Just, never mind, Alex,” Kyle shrugged, “It was a bad idea anyway.” He sighed.

“Kyle, don’t - ” his hands refused to let his arm go. “what was a bad idea? Dressing up like that?” His voice was now tinged with worry. “Please talk to me.”

“It’s for you!” He almost screamed in frustration. “Liz told me about the cowboy thing, and I dressed up as one for you.”

“Dressed up for me.” He repeats. “as a cowboy, because Liz told you that I was into that.” He almost hesitated saying the final part.

“Yes!” Kyle threw his arms up. “I’ve been in love with you for months and I had no idea what to do,” he started spilling. “At first, I would just do small things to get Michael annoyed, but the more I touched you the more I fell. Before I noticed I was head over heels over you and had no idea how if you felt the same,” he looked into Alex’s eyes. “I was too afraid of you rejecting me and I kept telling myself being your friend would be enough, but it wasn’t. Now Jacob is here and all over you - ”.

“Jacob?” Alex's tone was laced with disbelief and confusion, his eyes still locked with Kyle’s. “what about him?”

God, Kyle thought, Alex was the dumbest smart person he'd ever had the misfortune of falling in love with. “He is always flirting with you and you always laugh, always. You don’t even do that with me.” He needed Alex to understand.

Alex's laugh echoed as he pulled Kyle closer to him. “I am not interested in Jacob, Kyle” his voice was soft, his eyes warm and the edges of his lips curved in a smile. “I am interested in you. Have been for months now.”

Kyle felt his brain short circuiting. “What?”

Alex pulled Kyle closer, fingers curled in the lapel of his jacket until he could rest their foreheads together. “Did you really provoke Michael because he broke my heart?”

Their breaths mingled, their lips almost touching. “Yes,” Kyle’s voice was barely a whisper.

Alex snickered. “You are an idiot. You got hurt.” Kyle could deal with this.

“I am an idiot for you,” He replied. Alex body shook with laughter. “It was worth it.” His eyes searched for Alex’s. “You were a very mindful nurse.”

“And you a clueless patient,” their eyes met. “what, do you think I let any invalid cuddle me at the couch?”

“Oh,” It was all he could answer.

“Yeah, oh,” Alex took a step back. “we're gonna revisit your talk with Liz later,” looking pointedly at him, “but now tell me, cowboy, what are your plans?”

Kyle grinned and pulled him for a passionate kiss. When they pulled way, almost breathless, Kyle rearranged his Stetson and shot Alex his best smothering look, earning a laugh from the other man.

“Well, for the sake of poetry I was thinking you could always save a horse and ride a cowboy, Captain Manes.”

Alex eyes sparked mischievously, and he jumped on Kyle, startling the other man. “Easy there, cowboy,” Alex teased as Kyle found his footing, wrapping his thighs around the man’s waist. “Let’s not waste any more time. Take me inside.” Fuck, Kyle thought.

Alex was going to be the death of him, and what a sweet death it would be.

[lurkerdelima]

Idk if anyone's prompted you that Silverflint kidfic thing yet, so if they haven't? *raises hand* ;D I am a sucker for kidfic. So how about... Silver singing 'dance to your daddy' to a wee babby they can't quite bring themselves to leave at an orphanage. Pretty please with cake on top?

Thank you so much for this! ❤️ I will take all the kidfic prompts that you or anyone else wants to send me, honestly. I deviated from the prompt just a little but I think it's still good. This might end up cross-posted to my AO3 later; for now I'm so eager to post it I'm just putting it here. 

Tentatively entitled “these three remain” from the Corinthians verse - and now these three remain: faith, hope, and love, but the greatest of these is love. 

To say things have not gone quite according to plan would be a very large understatement.

Through a series of events this narrator should not like to waste time on, Flint and Silver have found themselves proprietors of a smallish inn on the coast called The Boat & Bird, living in the back rooms under a flimsy ruse of being business partners.

There are two adjoining bedrooms at the back of the inn; one sits entirely unused.

On an otherwise unremarkable rainy, dreary day a harried young woman comes to stay at their inn. She brings with her a baby girl no older than perhaps eight months, a green-eyed sweetling with soft dark curls and a dimpled smile.

She seems an easy enough baby to Silver, who never does learn her name - her mother is called Madeleine. Still, despite the baby’s sweet disposition, the mother has difficulty with her. Madeleine has a short temper and tends to yell at the babe when she fusses for too long. More and more Silver helps with her child, because he's got a way with babies (always has). He can feel Flint watching him while he dandles the girl on his knee or takes her on an educational tour of the kitchen. He doesn't know what it means, that Flint watches him so closely when he's got the baby.

One morning, Silver wakes to the sound of Madeleine’s baby wailing piteously. They've been staying at the inn for nigh on six weeks, so Silver's gotten more than used to the sound of the baby crying. He frowns, though, at how frantic and miserable she sounds - why isn't Madeleine soothing her? Surely she can hear how upset the baby is. Perhaps she needs help.

“Madeleine,” Silver calls as he gets up from the bed in just his breeches, wandering out into the hall toward the young mother’s room and pulling his nightshirt on over his head as he goes. “I can take the baby if-- oh, dear.”

He's just pushed open the (unlocked, not even fully shut) door of Madeleine’s room and found nobody but the baby. Madeleine is long gone, with all her possessions. Meanwhile her baby sits up in the blanket-lined box where she's been sleeping, red-faced and howling at the world at large. She reaches for Silver, opening and closing her hands in an obvious request. He crosses to her and scoops her up immediately, resting her on his right hip.

“Where has your mummy gone, hm?” he asks as he carries her from the chilly, barren room. “Do you suppose she's coming back?” he asks, knowing in his gut that she won't, that she's left the baby on purpose. Unwanted. Abandoned.

It feels very familiar, to Silver.

He carries the baby to his and Flint’s bedroom, sitting down on the bed with the sniffling infant in his lap.

“Nice of you to help her mother,” Flint mumbles, obviously still half-asleep.

“Her mother left,” Silver says flatly as the baby reaches out for his hair, tangling her fat fingers in his curls.

“When will she be back?” Flint asks, cracking one eye open and peering up at Silver.

“I don't think she will be back at all. She took everything with her except this,” Silver says, gesturing to the baby in his lap.

“What?” Flint gasps, suddenly fully awake, sitting up in bed and staring dumbfounded at Silver.

“She left the baby here. I don't think she's going to come back for her, James,” Silver says quietly, looking down at the little girl in his lap. She's calmed considerably and is contenting herself with pulling Silver's hair and chewing one of his fingers.

“We have to-- do something,” Flint says, rubbing his face with both hands. “We have to take her to the authorities, or an orphanage or...something,” he says, clearly at a loss.

“I'm not giving her to strangers,” Silver says with calm certainty. He's already made up his mind; he's just waiting for Flint to understand that this is the right thing to do.

“We're strangers!” Flint protests. “You can't seriously be making a case for keeping someone else's baby,” he says, sounding aghast.

“Her mother took everything else with her. Everything!” Silver hisses, trying to keep his voice down so he won't startle the baby. “Every last hairpin, every gown and stocking and earring. All she left was the girl. She meant to leave her here, James. With me. With us.”

“We can't be parents,” Flint says quietly. “You have to understand that we--”

“We what?” Silver challenges him. “We would be worse for her than an angry, neglectful mother who didn't want her in the first place? Worse than a nonexistent father? Worse than no parents at all, growing up in a dismal orphanage or alone on the street? You can't really believe that,” he says. “I'm keeping her, James. If you don't care to live with the terrible burden of a loving partner and a darling baby girl, you're free to leave whenever the mood strikes,” he says. He gets up from the bed and stalks irritably down the hall to the kitchen with Baby (he's starting to think of her that way, as though it's her given name) on his hip, tucked up under his right arm.

They don't really speak to each other for three full days after that. Silver takes care of Baby on his own, while Flint stalks around and scowls and mutters.

But he doesn't leave.

When at last they do speak again, it's late and Silver is getting the girl ready for bed, chatting away to her as is his wont. “Come now, Baby,” he coos, wrapping her in a blanket and smiling down at her as he settles her gently into her makeshift crib in their room. Someday soon he'll have to get her a bed that's not a box.

Flint looks up from where he's sitting in bed, rereading Cervantes. “You can't just keep calling her that.”

“What, Baby?” Silver asks as he pulls his shirt off over his head and joins Flint in their bed. “It's what she is, is it not?” he asks, trying not to feel overly giddy that he and Flint are talking.

“Yeah, b-- well. I was about to say that I don't call you Pain In My Arse or Bloody Idiot or Unfathomable Nuisance, but I do,” Flint says, closing his book softly and studying Silver with obvious affection. “However, point is she won't be a baby someday, and she'll need a real name. Since neither you nor I ever thought to ask her mother what she called her, I suppose it falls to us to choose a new one.”

Silver eyes the book in Flint's lap. “Dulcinea.”

Flint snorts. “Ridiculous. No,” he says.

“Araminta?” Silver suggests, folding his arms behind his head and turning slightly to watch Baby's chest rising and falling. She's already deep asleep, bless her.

“Are we naming a child or a long-haired cat? Christ, John. She'll be a grown woman one day and she'll have to live with whatever we name her,” Flint says.

“Ophelia. Desdemona,” Silver murmurs, wanting a name for his - their - daughter that evokes a certain feeling, that carries a decent amount of weight.

“Far too tragic, both of them,” Flint says, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Scheherazade?” Silver asks, grinning, just to hear Flint groan at him in frustration.

He does. “Go to sleep. Don't suggest any more names until you've had a few hours’ sleep at least, I think you're delirious,” Flint mutters, rolling over and putting his back to Silver, who laughs.

He falls asleep soon after and wakes a few hours later to the pitter-pat of rain on the windows and Baby's fussy snuffling. He rises from the bed and gathers Baby in his arms, managing to pace the length of the bedroom with both crutch and infant, his loping stride slowly lulling his daughter back to sleep.

He sings to her softly as he paces. “Dance to your daddy, my little lassie. Dance to your daddy, my little lamb. Thou shalt have a fish and thou shalt have a fin, thou shalt have a haddock when the boat comes in,” he sings, and by the time he reaches the last line, she's asleep again. He dares to kiss her forehead, as light as he can so he won't wake her, then tucks her into the box and eases back into bed next to Flint. He can tell he's awake, without looking.

“Hope,” he whispers to him, reaching for his hand in the darkness.

Flint takes it, squeezes. “Her name?”

“Yes,” Silver says, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat.

“Finally, a decent suggestion,” Flint murmurs. He leans in and Silver feels his lips, warm and soft, press to his cheek. “Hope, then.”