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crazyk-imagine · 4 years ago

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Chapter I: Where Do You Go?

Pairing(s): Liam Dunbar/ Hayden Romero

Characters: Roxanne Fredrickson (OC), Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Malia Tate (Hale), Liam Dunbar, Hayden Romero, Mason Hewitt, Jason James (OC - “Uncle”), Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale, Janice (ticket agent), Noah Stilinski

Warnings: Memory wipe, being forgotten, ghost riders, cursing (nothing too harsh)

Word Count: 3,467

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S6 EP01

Stiles runs down one of the various school hallways on the ground floor, still searching for someone anyone from the pack.

He’s out of breath. ‘She was right.’

He turns the corner to find Mason, Liam, and Hayden talking amongst themselves. "Mason, Mason, hey, where's Liam? Liam? Okay, there you go. Liam, Hayden, perfect. You two, you two have to listen to me right now. Alex is gone, just like his parents, okay? The ghost riders took him, so you guys, you can't be alone. You got to stick with Scott, Rox, or with me because I can see them.” He sees the way they weird look they’re giving him. “Why the hell are you lookin' at me like that?"

Hayden leans closer to her boyfriend, “do we even know him?”

“I don’t even know if he goes here,” Liam replies.

"Do you go to this school? What's your name?" Mason asks the older teen.

The three stand there, staring at the older boy before them, concerned about him.

It should bring Stiles a sense of comfort at the fact that they still seem to care about him but instead, it fills him with a sense of dread.

His mind is running at a million miles an hour.

He zones out, thinking about the photo situation.

"You haven't signed up for your own photo yet?" Malia asks.

"Yes, I did."

"It's blank."

Roxanne walks up to him, looking at the now blank paper. “I thought you already filled it out.”

“I did,” he mumbles.

Then jersey situation comes to mind.

"Excuse me, that's my Jersey, where'd you get that?"

"Coach gave it to me at practice."

Roxanne runs down, yet another hallway. “Come on,” she groans. “What school needs this many hallways?”

She freezes, talking a step back to see a non-human person on a horse. “Cowboy hat, check. Lasso, check. Horse, check. Old Western clothes, check. Looking up at me, yep. Dammit!”

She runs down the hallway, searching for her one human friend. “Stiles! Stiles!” She jumps down the small staircase, squatting before standing up.

“Where’s your scrawny, sarcastic ass when I need you?” She mutters to herself.

Stiles begins to slowly piece it together; he understands what the Wild Hunt does.

He has to see his dad before things get worse.

He pushes past the young teens, jogging towards his dad.

Noah stops Stiles from running into him. "Son, you, okay?"

"Oh, thank god. Thank god. Okay. Everyone's forgetting. Everyone is forgetting everything..."

"Okay, okay, slow down, slow down. We'll figure this out together. Okay. Now, why don't you tell me your name?"

Stiles is heartbroken. He moves away from his dad.

It’s like he’s looking at the completed puzzle now, it all makes sense; you see a ghost rider, you’re erased, it’s as simple as that. It explains why the deputies forgot who Alex was when Stiles asked.

He’s gotta call someone and pray he can stop things from getting worse.

Stiles pulls out his phone to call his best friend, partner in crime, brother who’s a part of the supernatural world… "Scott?”

“Hey.”

“Scott, where are you? Where are you right now?" The human stutters.

"Who's this?"

His withdraws his phone from his ear, hanging up. His heart breaks again.

He thinks back to the incident at the sheriff’s station.

"Alex. The kid from the car wreck? The kid whose parents went missing last night?” Stiles says.

“Who's Alex?” The female deputy asks.

“Horses. He saw them. He saw the wild hunt," Lydia tells Malia.

"Who's stiles?" The werecoyote asks.

"It's me. I'm next," Stiles whispers to himself.

"Stiles! Stiles!" A female voice echoes throughout the hallway. Her heavy footsteps giving away how close she is. "Stiles! Dammit! There is no way you could have left without me knowing. Stiles, I swear to god, I’m gonna hang you by your scrawny ass.”

Roxanne’s back faces him, he runs towards her, turning her around. “Rox. It’s me. I’m next.”

“What does that mean? What do these ugly things do?”

He furrows his brows, “what are you- you saw them didn’t you.” He groans, “you were supposed to find the pack.”

“Are we seriously arguing over this?”

“No, we gotta get out of here.” He tugs on her hand.

She pulls her hand out of his grip, “no, I can fight. You can’t. Try to run and get out of here.”

He shakes his head, “no, I’m leaving you here.”

“Stiles, I’m loving the protective friend slash older brother persona, but we can’t do this. You need to go. I’ll be fine, I’ve survived this long, right?” She chuckles.

Stiles lunges at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

She loses her breath, letting out an ‘oof’. She pats his back, pushing him away from her. “There is a time and place for hugging. This,” she gestures to the two of them, “is not it.” She shakes her head.

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I.”

A horse neighing in the distance diverts her attention away from him.

“They’re here, aren’t they?”

“Do you want me to lie?”

“Would it comfort me?”

“No.” Roxanne places her hands on his lower back and shoulder, pushing him forward. “Time to move.”

He bends backwards, taking slow steps. "Why should I? I mean you said yourself they’re coming. So, it probably doesn’t matter where we go, they’ll find us. What’s the point in trying? We’re screwed."

“I’m going to throw you in your jeep, drive to the town line, and kick you out leaving you to fend for yourself.”

“There’s that Hale attitude.”

“Stiles.” She shoves him.

He throws his arms out to try and catch himself; he fails, falling onto the ground. He rolls over to look up at her. He groans out, “what was that for?”

“We’re both going to be forgotten.”

“Pretty sure I made that clear but you shoving me onto the ground isn’t,” he whines.

“You’re ‘we’re helpless’ attitude isn’t helping. Now, you’re gonna get off your scrawny little ass and run out those doors, start your baby Roscoe and get the hell out of dodge. Got it?”

“She brought this on herself. She didn’t answer my- hey, Roxy! You’re not answering your phone so, I’m buying a ticket. I’m coming back and we’re talking.” Isaac hangs up the phone, shoving it into his jacket pocket.

“Hello, Sir. One ticket to California?” The ticket agent, Janice asks.

“Yes, thank you.”

“It’s no problem, sir. Here you are. You have a good flight.”

He smiles, “thank you.”

Roxanne turns her head, listening to the footsteps of the strawberry blonde and her voice as she calls out for the human on the ground. “Hey!”

Stiles tiredly glances up at her, leaning on his elbows.

“Get up. Lydia is out there calling for you.”

“So?” He pushes himself up.

“She’ll be the last person to remember you.”

“How does that help us?”

“She can help you. You find her, she’ll do everything she can to remember you. You two have a strong connection so that’s gotta mean something and I have a gut feeling that it does.” She grabs his shoulders, making him face her. “You can do this. You,” she pokes his chest. “Are Mieczyslaw Stilinski, if anyone is going to make it out of the Wild Hunt with no wounds, it’s you.”

“I can’t leave you here.”

“You can and you will.”

“I can’t do this without you.”

“You are the smartest person I know, and that’s saying a lot. You always know how to get us out of trouble, you’ll be able to get yourself out of this mess, alright?”

“What am I gonna do without my backup?” He sniffs.

“This isn’t a permanent thing. We’ll find each other again soon besides, who am I to back down from a fight?” She smirks, to hide her fear and prevent her lip from quivering any further. “She’s looking for you. Go.”

He turns around, looking over his shoulder as he turns the corner, “I promise, I’m not gonna forget you!”

“Focus on protecting yourself!”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles to himself.

“Don’t be.”

Stiles hands land on the door handle when he hears another familiar voice. He slams the door open, running out to find the strawberry blonde.

"Stiles!"

"Lydia? You know me. Oh, thank god. You do know me."

"I know you. But I think everybody else is forgetting."

The faint sound of a lightning cracking outside continues to get closer.

He grabs Lydia's wrist, pulling her out the door with him. He turns to find a ghost rider waiting for him. "Hey, do you see him?" Stiles releases Lydia's wrist, pointing at the ghost rider.

"See what?"

"The guy on the horse."

"Stiles, if you can see them, they're gonna..."

"No, I know, I know. Okay. They're comin' for me. So, you should get away from me right now, okay?"

No one knows where those who are taken go, he wasn’t about to let them see her and get taken alongside him and Roxanne.

"I'm not leaving you!"

"All right, come on, come on! This way, this way, come on. Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Okay, this way. Keep going."

More ghost riders join the few he saw before.

"Where are they?"

"They're everywhere."

"Come on, come on, come on! Lydia, don't look at them, okay? Don't try to scream. They'll take you, too. Just do not look at them. I won't. I won't."

The two run, taking cover in Stiles’ baby, Roscoe.

He hesitates to start his jeep, he’s thinking about Lydia and everyone else’s safety, thinking back to what Roxanne told him, “If anyone is going to make it out of the Wild Hunt with no wounds, it’s you.”

He removes his hand from the steering wheel, taking his key out of the ignition.

"What are you doing? We need to go!"

He knows his time’s up, it’s too late for anyone to try and do anything. It’s too late to help him.

"There's no time. Lydia, I'm going to be erased, okay? Just like Alex. You're gonna forget me and you're gonna forget Rox."

"I won't. No, I won't. I won't. I won't forget either of you." Lydia doesn’t want to believe it; she refuses to believe that she’s going to forget him... she doesn’t want to forget the boy she loves.

"Lydia, you will. Just try to find some way to remember me, okay? Remember how you were the first girl I ever danced with? Or how I had a crush on you freshman year. Sophomore year? Junior year? Remember how you saved my life? You saved my life too. Just remember... Remember I love you."

The ghost rider rips the door open, taking Stiles away from Lydia, removing him from everyone’s memory except for Roxanne who was moments away from enduring the same fate as her friend.

There is hardly a shred of evidence to show that he’s a real person and not a figment of anyone’s imagination.

The only piece of evidence that’s left behind to remind the pack of Stiles and who he is... is Rosco, his jeep.

She punches one of the locker doors, "dammit!” She pants, her chest rising with every breath.

“Stiles… Scott. Scott. I need to call Scott," she checks her jacket pockets before checking his pants pockets.

She pulls out her phone, “ah ha!” She opens the call log, clicking on Scott’s name. "Scott. Scott. We know, what’s happening- I know, what's happening? The Wild Hint erases people from reality and our memories. Stiles was just erased."

"What're you talking about? What's a Stiles?"

“Listen, these things take people, okay?”

“Who?”

“The new trouble that’s in Beacon Hills. This group of supernatural cowboys takes whoever sees them- maybe eventually everyone.”

“How do you know this?”

“I can’t say.”

“Have you seen them?”

“A part of me wants to lie but, I won’t. I have and soon, I’ll be gone too.”

“Where are you?” Scott runs down the stairs in his house.

“I’m at Beacon Hills High but there’s no use in trying to protect me. I’m screwed.”

He swings his front door open. “No, listen I’m on my way. If you see one, any of these things, run. I’m coming as fast as I can, alright.”

Lightning cracking outside the school doors sends a shiver down both of their spines.

“They’re here.”

“Run.” Scott drives through the neighborhood passing a familiar car. He passes by Jason in a flash.

The human can’t even comprehend what or who went by.

“Run out the doors to the front of the school. I’m almost there.”

“It’s too late. I can hear them getting closer.”

“Rox,” Scott bursts through the school doors.

She runs toward the end of the hallway, “I told you to stay away.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I figured you understood that was implied.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing her wrist. “Come on.”

“No, Scott. Stop.” She stands in front of him, stopping him from moving any further. “I got this. You need to go and find the others, make sure they’re safe.”

“I can’t leave you here to fend off the-”

“Wild Hunt. Yes, you can. I got this. I’m not going down so easily.”

“I know you won’t but I’m not going to risk you being taken. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Roxanne sighs thinking about Allison, Aiden, and everyone else who’s left or died. “I get that. I do but, you have your pack to think about. You have people relying on you to protect them and those people need you more than me. I can do this on my own.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. I’m getting you out of here and taking you somewhere safe.”

“It doesn’t matter where I go or where I try to hide those things will find me. Stiles tried to leave but he got caught and taken. I heard it, Scott! I’m going away and there’s nothing any of us can do!” She shouts, her vision blurry as tears pool in her waterline.

Scott purses his lips, “where are they?”

“Surrounding us.”

“Do you think-”

“Running won’t do anything for me. If you walk out those doors, you won’t see it, okay?” She sadly chuckles.

“I’m staying.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“How can I? I’m with you.”

“You’re not helping.”

The wind blows leaves into the hallway, lightning cracks in the sky and in the hallway.

She gulps when she sees it. Her shoulders tense up. She steps in front of the true alpha, holding her arm out in front of him, “It’s my turn to tell you to run. Don’t look back and run.”

“How many are there?”

“I’m not telling you. Turn around and walk away.”

“I’m staying.”

She grits her teeth, “you stubborn son of a-” leaning forward, she kicks her leg back, successfully pushing him back. He lands on his back, gasping for air.

A whip cracking against the floor makes her roll her head, cracking his neck along the way. “You aren’t taking me down without a fight.”

Isaac puts the phone to his ear for the last time before boarding the plane. “I’m going to be on the plane in less than ten minutes, I’ll be in Beacon Hills before you know it. We’re talking when I get back-”

He’s lost his train of thought.

He furrows his brows, hanging up, he puts his phone back in his pocket. “Are you boarding the plane, sir?”

The werewolf looks up, smiling at the ticket agent from before. “Yeah, sorry. I forgot what I was doing.”

Janet chuckles, “that’s quite alright, I go through the same thing all the time.”

He weakly chuckles at her comment before walking past her. He sits in his assigned seat, adjusting himself so he’s comfortable.

He removes the scarf from his neck, setting it on his lap.

He knows someone gave it to him as a gift a few years ago but he draws a blank. He can’t remember who.

He turns out the window trying to remember why he’s returning to Beacon Hills but, doesn’t have an answer.

Another rider walks a few feet ahead of her with a gun in its hand.

She roars, her eyes shift into a ruby red. She turns back to see her friend, ally, and brother begin to push himself off the ground. “Make sure Beacon Hills is still standing when we come back.”

He struggles to get off the floor, wrapping an arm around his torso. He can feel the pain subside a little, but a bruise will for sure be there tomorrow. “Stop,” he whispers.

“Don’t forget us.” Roxanne stands there, letting the riders come to her.

She raises her arms, readying herself. Once they're close enough, she lets out a scream mixed with an alpha roar.

“Hey, I got the-” Jason sets the groceries on the counter. He furrows his brows, “who was I-”

The fire alarm goes off and he looks to see smoke coming from the oven. “Shit!”

He pulls the oven door down, wafting the smoke away as he coughs. He grabs the oven mitt off the counter and pulls out the two cookie sheets, setting them on the counter on top of two towels.

He runs around the house, opening a few windows, and the back door. “When did I put cookies in the oven? Why did I leave with cookies in the oven is a better question?”

He pulls out his phone, checking his most recent calls to see ‘Roxy’; he clicks on the number, only to get a recorded message, “this number is no longer in service”.

Jason furrows his brows, “who the hell is this Roxy chick?”

He pulls the phone away from his ear, hanging up. He looks at the familiar number, but no one comes to mind.

It was like something was clawing at the back of his mind trying to break free but was essentially blocked.

Jason begins putting the groceries away. He pulls out the chocolate chips, furrowing his brows. “Someone asked me to get them but who?”

He tosses them off to the side before making dinner and sometime later, going upstairs to get ready for bed.

He stops in front of the now bordered up room, placing a hand on the wall. He stares at the pictures on the “wall”.

Something isn’t right, there’s something wrong with the wall, but… he can’t put his finger on it.

She’s gone.

Nothing left behind for anyone to find.

Like her friend, no one will know she was real.

Something the others from the McCall pack and allies have yet to find out is that there’s one person who remembers both people but, it’s someone they’d rather not talk to or… bring back.

The one thing left behind for them to find isn’t anywhere for them to find, is on the hand of an “evil, power seeking” chimera… who’s stuck in the ground with his dead sister.

A ring, a simple, plain band but it means too much to Roxanne and she doesn’t care if it’s a ring you could find at any store. It has far more value to her than anyone else realizes.

“Scott?” Liam asks. He and Mason lift the older teen off the ground. “What were you doing on the ground?”

“I- uh- I don’t know.”

“Are you okay?” Hayden and Mason ask.

“Whose footprint is that?”

“What?” Scott looks down to see what Liam noticed.

“I don’t know.”

Hayden observes the way the alpha is holding his torso. “Why does it look like you’re not healing?”

Before Scott could say anything, Liam chimes in, “do you have any idea what happened to you?”

“It was obviously another supernatural being but what and who,” Mason says.

'Remember... Remember... remember...'

"You, okay?" Malia asks Lydia, concerned about the strawberry blonde, sensing something off with her since she’s zoning out.

"I have this feeling that I was supposed to do something." Lydia replies with a dazed expression.

"Do what?"

"I can't remember." She knows there’s something she was meant to do, maybe meet someone, she can’t remember.

“Maybe it was picking me up.”

The banshee furrows her brows, looking at Malia. “What are you talking about? I don’t pick you up in the morning that’s,” she stops, her brows knit together as she tries to figure out who was supposed to pick her up.

“If you weren’t supposed to pick me up then who was?”

“I don’t know.”

No one from the McCall pack nor do the residents of Beacon Hills remember what happened the night before. And none of them were prepared for what goes down throughout the next few months.

Previously: Prologue // Continue to: Chapter II

Taglist: @xcharlottemikaelsonx

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf imagine #theo reaken #theo raeken x ofc #theo raeken x oc #theo raeken imagine #crazyk-imagine #theo raeken fanfiction #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken #theo raeken fanfic #holding back

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prett-ybird · 5 years ago

Note

9. 13. 25. 27. 35 for the tv/movie asks

9. Top 5 characters

right now it’s probably got to be noa kean (code black) - s2 rewatch no.3 is hitting different, emily if ur reading this i am free all the time hmu

michaela pratt (htgawm) - final season did her so dirty but she’s My Girl

tk strand (911: lonestar) - baby boy. just wnt to hug him and steal his hoodie collection

julie molina (jatp) - girlie has my whole heart, she can sing and has style? take all my money

and klara gold (the immortalists) - sobbing over her is the most cathartic experience for me, love my strong-willed, probably clinically insane, alcoholic magician

13. Top 5 dead characters

robert willis (code black) – the man had maybe 2 minutes of screen time but like that’s my husband

root (person of interest) – it’s been 4 years since she died and i have not stopped crying over her?? truly insane. also one of the deciding factors for me realising i liked girls so thanks amy acker !!

wes gibbins (htgawm) – deserved SO much more???

laurel lance (arrow) – i feel like the fact that i had to skip school the day after her death episode aired says enough

klara gold (again) – really can’t put into words how much she means to me? i went into her section knowing she’d die but the tragic heroine Always gets me i guess

25. Top 5 ships

luke/lorelai (gilmore girls) – they always remind me of soulmateism, their relationship also kind of reminds me of my parent’s one so yeah i love them a lot.

jeff/annie (community) – the pining, the denial, the long looks….. truly am a wh*re for them

buck/eddie (911) – non-canon canon husbands raising their kid together, what more does a girl want

rox/ethan (code black) – technically off-screen endgame but i’ll accept it given the glorious angst of their back and forth before she nearly dies and he drops everything and everyone for her? just say you’re in love and go honestly but like internally, v secret, maybe i prefer rox w the dead brother bc their angst potential is huge and i love pain

rosie/alex (love rosie) – made me believe in the childhood best friends to lovers trope, very sick and twisted of them but they’re the loves of my life and the book makes me sob bc it’s all worth it in the end and i just adore them

27. Top 5 brotps

mario/malaya (code black) – got virtually no solo bro time (from what i vaguely remember from s1) but i just know they’re best friends and they hang out all the time and she totally gave him hell about being whipped on noa. i know all of this is true, i just know it

reese/shaw (person of interest) – snarky bi assassins living my dream life and just being buds, truly elite friendship

troy/abed (community) – platonic but slightly romantic soulmates, constantly searching for the troy to my abed if i’m being honest

tammy/sebastian (ncis:nola) – himbo/lesbian solidarity like they just make me Soft and for a pairing that are all abt the laughs i cry over them too often

paris/rory (gilmore girls) – just girls being friends and never losing contact with each other. genuinely upset that my paris is currently 4 hours away even tho we never went to the same school she’s my oldest and dearest friend and just a total nerd, words truly cannot convey how much they are us and we are them lol. also i attacked her 3 days after we met and she still has a scar from that encounter… good times

35. Top 5 best moments

the ending of fallen angels (code black s2 finale) makes me sob like i was dehydrated by the end of the episode because i just lost it at the softness of ariel and leanne and the sense of found family that the whole finale had. very fun time for me !

the end scene for community s3 e4 because those idiots dancing around a room gives me so much serotonin it is unreal. i have lost track of the amount of times i’ve watched that scene this year, it’s just so good and wholesome

ummmm i can’t remember the episode because it is late and i am too lazy to google but the orphan black scene where they’re all dancing bc they just dodged a major bullet and i just love it so much bc it makes me Happy. also the song choice just slaps so hard i love it

the scene after beth wins the world championship and we see everyone who supported her lose their minds??? one aspect that wasn’t in the book that i loved so much like the abandoned orphan girl made something of herself and had people who loved and supported her and ugh the love i have for the queen’s gambit is something else

also jatp scene at the end when they realise they can touch each other….. luke and julie holding each other’s faces is something that just means a lot to my touch starved self

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

Text

Praetego

Michael made one choice and thought that was it for him. However, his past has come back. He’s realizing now there will always be choices for him to make and the one right now–to hide or to stand tall

CW: Mentions of blood, death, and violence. 18+ Content, Smut (MLM)

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me ko-fi.

_________________________

Michael glances down to the glass in his hands as a small chuckle escapes his lips. Alex, the guy he singled out at the bar from the start of the night, steps in a little closer. The woodsy but floral scent of Alex’s cologne invades Michael’s nose. He smells so much like a man and also a little sweet that it almost makes Michael’s head spin. “I’m shocked you guys didn’t lock this place down,” Alex shouts upon the revelation that Michael is out celebrating the release of the band’s album.

Michael shakes his head. “And miss the opportunity to meet you. I don’t think so.”

It’s Alex’s turn to duck his head. His hair, thick black strands, is slicked back. When he turns to the side a little, Michael can see the single braid that hangs down his back. Michael almost wants to reach out and touch it, but he reframes. Alex’s warm brown skin absorbs the red lights of the club. Unlike Michael’s paler skin, which only reflects and with a surge of courage, Michael gently brushes a hand over Alex’s forearm. “Don’t act shy now,” Michael teases.

With a short laugh, Alex grins, looking up from under his lashes. “No one’s shy around here. I just don’t want to be rude and take you away from your friends. You only get to celebrate the release once, really.”

Michael’s high-pitched laughter bounces around in Alex’s skull. Without thinking, the two men step even closer together. “They won’t mind. I promise.” Michael threads his arm around Alex’s waist. They’re roughly the same height, but underneath the black t-shirt he feels so firm to Michael’s touch. The cologne gets stronger again with the proximity, and Michael lets his eyes close briefly as he inhales.

Michael does briefly worry that he’s not Alex’s type. Beneath the baggy shirt and joggers, Michael imagines he can’t compare to Alex. The thought is fleeting when Alex breathes right against Michael’s ear. “Let’s get out of here then, yeah?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

The pair closes out their individual tabs. Michael thinks as he leads Alex out of the club, he sees her. It can’t be Sylvie. Michael left them behind. He had made his choice six years ago. He shakes the thought. It definitely looked like her. Long coils that wrapped around themselves and cascaded down her shoulders. Only longer this time, he thinks. The last time he saw her, her hair rested just at her chest and now it was resting right at her stomach. But the cool dark brown skin that reminded him of autumn every time he looked at her, and the green eyes that looked too much like his, are clear. Even though it’s dark and crowded, he will never forget his first family. He could never forget them.

“Is something wrong?” Alex asks. He noticed Michael not moving but staring into the crowd near the door. His eyes cast over the entire crowd. No one looked familiar, not a soul from the group that Michael had spent part of the night laughing with. Alex noted that Michael didn’t really dance, just kind of bounced to the beat blasting. No one is staring back at them either. Who would have captured his attention?

Michael blinks. It’s just his imagination. She’ll be gone when his eyes open. Her birthday is coming up soon. He remembers because he still sends gifts. When he opens his eyes, she’s still standing there. Leaning as if she’s just a normal club goer. As if this is just normal for her. Michael made his choice, though. He made his choice. He tries not to regret it, but he’ll be damned if he has to make another one like that again. “Nothing,” he says, turning back to Alex. “Someone just looked familiar for two seconds and yeah, it’s nothing.”

Alex nods, squeezing his hand, and they travel into the bowels of the night. “I’ll offer my place.” There’s no room to argue either as he pulls out his phone, tapping in the Uber app for a ride.

“Attractive and thoughtful. I like it.” Alex’s cheek is smooth against Michael’s lip and they fall into each other as tufts of laughter escape them.

“I have to warn of a dog at home. She’s sweet, though. I promise.”

Michael’s heart nearly melts at the mention of a dog. He grins. “I love dogs.”

“I hope you like German shepherds. I can put her up for the time being if it worries you at all.”

“Nah, I’m tough.”

Alex laughs, cupping the beard that decorates Michael’s jaw and chin. “Sure you are.”

“Is that a fucking challenge?” The indignant squeal turns up Michael’s voice, but there’s a grin on his lips. Michael finds himself lost in the depths of Alex’s brown eyes. The bright light of the streetlight twinkles in them a little and god, he’s so gorgeous.

“It could be a fucking challenge.” The inflection around the word ‘fucking’ and the grin Alex fixes Michael with emphasizes the meaning Alex is giving the phrase. Michael hums, eyes squinting to show his faux suspicion. Before Michael can give his retort, a car pulls up beside them. They didn’t expect that the driver was that close to them, but they climb inside.

“What’s your dog’s name?”

“Roxie. I call her Roxs for short sometimes. Her paws are a little darker than the rest of her, so I always say she has socks on. And I’m over sharing, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a little. But it’s okay.”

Outside the door of Alex’s apartment, Michael can already hear the tapping of claws on the floor. Alex is slow to open the door. To Roxie’s true fashion, Michael sees the brown body jumping just a little at Alex. “Hey, girl,” he coos, taking a moment to scratch her chin.

Michael grin. When she finally takes notice of him, he offers his hands. She sniffs it and moves from Alex’s hold to sit right in front of Michael. Her tail wags and thumps against the floor. “Oh, how polite of you,” Michael praises, squatting down.

She clicks her paws to the floor and sniffs over his face. Her snout is cold. Her body shakes with excitement as she curls up into Michael as he scratches her chin. Poised right onto the couch is a toy. Michael picks up the red ball. Roxie picks up on the movement immediately. She moves to all four and when the ball rolls gently down into the dining room area, she gently gallops over to it. With it secured in her grasps, she trots back over to Michael. He takes it again when she lets it fall into his palm. He rolls it again, laughing gently as she chases down after down. Michael stands. “She’s adorable.”

“Yeah, my baby,” Alex returns. Roxie returns with her heavy pants and a little less spring in her hop than usual. “Sleepy, girl?”

She looks at Michael. Eyes silently begging for one more toss. Just one last chase. “Oh, one more?” Michael bargains. “I think she deserves one more.” When he reaches out for the ball, she happily plops it into his hand. He gives it another roll. Soon, though, with a lot of coaxing to settle down onto her bed in the crate, Roxie drops her head onto her paws. The sheet settles over top of it and Alex stands.

It’s only during this time to get her settled that Michael looks over Alex again. The heavens and suns kissed his skin. The strong brow bone makes Michael’s throat jump a little. As Alex stands with a grin, Michael is sure his knees will give out on him. “Do you want anything? Water?”

“Bathroom?”

“Down the hall first on the left.”

Michael nods and follows it down, mainly just to wash his hands and rinse out his mouth. There’s nothing that can really wash away the taste of alcohol but time and greasy foods. It’s a quick splash of some cold water over his face.

Alex sits on the couch, two glasses of water on the coffee table, but Michael’s not worried about that. It’s as he gets closer that he notices Alex’s hair is down. There’s a slight curl to the hair, no doubt from the braid. He sits, arms spread out over the edge of the couch. He’s slumped down a little, legs falling open easily. Michael grins when they lock eyes.

“You’re grinning like Cheshire cat over there,” Alex teases.

In that moment, Michael is sure that he’s fucking sculpted by some god out there as his hair tumbles down his chest. Michael walks over and bypasses the cushion next to Alex before straddling his thigh. Alex’s fingers dig into Michael’s waist just a little, to keep him steady. “Are you the betting type?”

Alex shakes his head. “Try not to be if I can help it.” Michael cups Alex’s cheek, just gently stroking the soft flesh. Alex continues to speak. “Why do you ask?”

“Because if you were, I would say that I bet you look good in this t-shirt but I know you look better out of it.”

Alex moves his hands away for a second and grins. “Be my guest.” The t-shirt is easy to get up and over, the hair tumbles down like a black waterfall. Michael can’t help but run his fingers down Alex’s chest.

“I would have won,” Michael whispers as he leans forward. His lips just brush over Alex’s as he speaks.

As Alex dips his fingers under Michael’s shirt, he grins. “Good thing I didn’t take it then.” Michael’s own shirt is pulled up and discarded to the floor. Michael feels the beanie slipping and lets it go. He gives no scramble to catch it or watch for where it lands.

Alex tastes like the soda he was sipping on. Michael can’t quite place it but he knows if he ever were to place what it was, he would always sip it and remember this moment, remember the way Alex holds him tight. He would always have a moment where he flashes back to Alex, sighing into his skin. Michael lets his fingers slip through Alex’s hair just for a moment to cradle his head and bring their mouths back together.

Michael’s skin is no doubt hot, from their closeness, from the alcohol. It was only one drink. He doesn’t go too hard anymore like his younger years. “You’re okay with this, right?”

“You wouldn’t be sitting on my lap in my apartment if I weren’t,” Alex returns with a huffed exhale of laughter.

“Good, because fuck, you’re hot.” As they trail kisses over skin, they move themselves from the living room to the bedroom. Michael sees now a desk in the bedroom's corner with beadwork laying on it and he wonders what it means, what Alex does. But it’s amongst notebooks, some sheet music. Michael sees a jersey hanging over the back of the chair and he can’t place the affiliated sport—he feels like he could spot a soccer team faster than American football. He never has more than a moment to consider the thoughts before his head falls back into the wall with Alex’s lips sucking hickeys into his skin.

When there’s the graze, light pressure from Alex’s palm on his erection, Michael melts. “Fuck, please.”

“Eager beaver.” They discard their pants, leaving them just in their boxers. Alex guides Michael to the bed. Alex licks his lips. Michael looks so timid, but so coy at the same time. “What’s on your mind? What are you thinking? Any more bets?”

“No, no more bets.” He crooks his fingers to beckon Alex forward. “Just a thought. I can't be lonely on such a nice bed.”

Alex joins him with no extra prompting. That scent comes back as Alex hovers over him, with hand one toying at the band of his boxers Michael just lets go. He doesn’t care if he’s too loud. He doesn’t care if he reaches out too much. All that matters is Alex’s touch, his tongue, and the arousal punching at Michael’s gut.

He doesn’t let himself go completely. Michael pulls Alex in close, hands slipping into the underwear, and pushes them down. He takes his thumb to play just a hair with Alex’s tip and lets some pre-cum act as a lube as Michael’s hand slides down Alex’s cock.

It’s with a shuddering exhale that Alex almost falls completely into Michael. “Fuck.”

Michael holds him a little closer, arm winding around his shoulders, and fingers twisted into his hair. “It’s okay. Fall into me.”

Alex takes a nip at Michael’s shoulder, his breath hot and ghosting over his skin. He can only groan, hips bucking slightly into Michael’s palm. Michael grins at the sounds of Alex letting his body go to the pleasure, to the way he’s tucked into the grasps of Michael’s fist. “I can do one better,” Michael whispers.

Alex laughs. “I bet I can, too.”

“You said you weren’t the betting type.”

Alex winks. “Sometimes I might contradict myself.” He peels himself away and kisses Michael's chest. The boxers, while adorable with the Christmas lights on them, are removed. When Alex takes in the sight of Michael, hard and leaking for him, he groans. He licks a stripe from base to tip and pumps slowly. “You did not tell me that this is what I had to look forward to.”

Michael feels the heat flooding his cheeks. He’s never been one to consider himself worth more than a glance. But Alex’s awe and smile tell Michael otherwise. Nothing else is said before Alex takes him down. Michael bawls the sheets into his fist, feeling the way Alex relaxes his throat and slips Michael down. “God.” Michael chokes on the word. It’s heavenly as Alex hums around his length.

Michael blinks open his eyes, watching as the curtain of hair falls and tickles over his thighs. Alex pulls away and ties his hair up, a loose bun sitting on the top of his head. Michael beckons him back up, just for a quick kiss. The taste of Michael coats his own tongue, and it mixes with the soda from before. Now all he wants is to embed the cologne of Alex into his skin forever.

There’s not much wasted time before Alex returns, his mouth hot and so inviting around Michael’s cock. Michael groans, pushing his hips up just a little. Alex hums, hands playing at Michael’s hips before taking him firmly to pump at the length that doesn’t quite get down Alex’s throat. Michael’s face is getting hot, he can feel it in the tips of his ears as Alex works. A hand comes up, gently playing at his balls, and Michael loses it. It’s as if the top of his head falls off, and he’s just floating.

He grabs for anything. Just a piece of something sturdy to steady himself. It winds up being Alex’s shoulder. A meaty but firm patch of muscle. Michael will not last like this. And he thinks it really doesn’t matter. “Shit,” he hums and soon his toes are curling.

His breathing becomes more labored. His jaw falls slack. Just unhinged when Alex teases his tip, tongue dancing over the slit. “Oh, fuck.” Michael digs tighter into the sheets and his blunt nails have left crescent moon indents—they have to. But Michael doesn’t care as he cums, a grunt and groan escaping his chest.

Alex pulls back, sure to show off him licking the excess from the corner of his mouth. “That’s just a treat.”

Michael, falling into the mattress and pillows, laughs before pulling Alex down. They share another slow and languid kiss, a clashing of tongues slipping over each other and inhaling the other’s sighs. After a beat or two, Michael slips out from underneath and pushes Alex down. He settles around Alex’s waist, wasting no time to remove the last layer of cotton hiding him away. If Michael is a surprise, then Alex breaks the scale. For a moment, there’s a fleeting thought about how he will handle this if it goes further. But he likes a challenge.

First, though, Michael traces the ink around Alex’s bicep. He hadn’t noticed that before, not that shocking the way his hair falls over his chest and arms. “You like ink too?”

Alex nods. “Got it after a ceremony. I have another one on my back, just for fun really.”

“Ceremony?”

Alex has to laugh at the confusion on Michael’s face. He places his hands on Michael’s thighs and gently runs his fingers over the skin. “Don’t worry too much about it.” Michael’s beckoned; he lets himself go, bending down to capture Alex’s lips. One hand finds his length and Alex mewls at the touch.

Michael loves the sound. He wants to etch it into his brain. God, he needs every sound Alex gives him. Alex pushes up, trying to keep Michael close. “Don’t run away from me,” Alex jokes, keeping a firm hold on Michael’s neck.

“I’m not running anywhere.” Michael keeps his hands full of Alex, pumping over his length as they kiss again. Michael takes a small moment to coat his hand to keep his grip slick and inviting. He can feel himself getting hard again, too. Every huff and moan Alex releases only serves to make Michael harder. He rocks, his cock rubbing against Alex’s stomach just a little, and he can’t help the whine that escapes him.

Alex bucks up, holding Michael close as they sit chest to chest, Michael sitting straddling Alex’s body, his feet facing the bed frame. Alex nips at Michael’s skin, shuddering. The bed rocks into the wall, the frame tapping gently but not hurriedly. “Fuck,” Alex sighs. “Not gonna last.”

“We’ve got all night,” Michael says. He knows when Alex starts to orgasm, the rigid tension that overtakes his body and soon he’s sputtering hot liquid into Michael’s hand and torso. Michael peels away, just enough for Alex to watch as he licks his hand clean.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Alex teases before they get up and get cleaned up for the moment.

“It’s going to be a long night,” Michael returns as they settle back onto the mattress with the glass of water from before within his grasps.

Michael wakes to the sun in his face and he curses slightly, one hand blocking out the intrusion. The room is bright, walls white. When Michael sees the desk again, he remembers suddenly that he’s not in his own house. An arm is stretched out across his waist and Michael turns. Alex’s face smashed into the pillow, stares back at him. His hair still tied up, though some of it threatens to fall out of the elastic. He sighs and lets his head back into the navy pillow case.

“Want breakfast?” Alex asks, his voice is thick with sleep but sounds like he might’ve been up for a while. His eyes haven’t opened yet.

“How long have you been up?” Michael’s own voice is gruff.

“Couple hours. Took Roxs out. Let her run the neighborhood for a little, then came back inside. You hadn’t come to life yet, so I let you be. Just crawled back into bed and drifted in and out of sleep.”

“You saying I sleep like the dead?”

“Roxie’s barking didn’t wake you. And she’s not tiny, so yeah. You do.”

Michael shoves Alex’s shoulder and turns to his back. There’s a slight twinge of pain that reminds him of the events from the prior night, but mostly it’s an ache. It’s dull and Michael’s familiar with it after all his adventures.

“You want breakfast though? Seriously.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

Alex’s hand trails up Michael’s chest and brushes some of his hair out of his eyes. “You’re not a bother. Eggs and pancakes?” Michael attempts to protest that he should probably get home so Alex can take Roxie on a proper walk, but Alex shushes him with a single finger to his lips. “Just say yes.”

“Yes,” Michael mumbles around the digit. There’s a gentle pat to his cheek and Alex pushes up. The bed dips, bounces, and then springs back as Alex finally climbs off it. There’s a whistle and suddenly Michael is aware of the clicking again and knows it’s Roxie following the command.

Michael slips his beanie back onto his head. He feels bad leaving without cleaning his plate, but Alex insists that he can handle the clean up too. “You’re sure you don’t want help with the dishes?”

“It’s just some plates, really. I’m sure.”

Michael checks his phone again. The driver is about three minutes out. “Thanks. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

Roxie trots over from Alex’s side at the table. She holds her ball in her mouth, eyes looking up at Michael expectedly. “I’m so sorry, girl. I gotta go.” He gives her another few scratches, but it hurts for a moment when he hears her whine at him approaching the door.

“We can play later, baby,” Alex calls, hands turned out for the toy. “I promise.”

Michael walks down the short flight of stairs, patting his pockets. His phone and wallet are in their appropriate pockets. His keys are in his front pocket and he sighs a small bit of relief that he doesn’t have to scramble back to Alex’s before the Uber arrives.

Michael thinks about Sylvie in the club. That couldn’t have been her there. She wasn’t even on this side of the world the last time she had checked in with him. They were somewhere in the UK, but he couldn’t remember the exact location. Maybe he was just hallucinating. Sylvie wasn’t one to use trickery to communicate and unless she had developed some new skill, then Michael wasn’t sure how she could do it anyway.

The silver sedan pulls up, and they seem shocked at Michael’s presence on the curb. He prays for a good ride and though it’s a little awkward in the beginning; it goes smoothly as they pull up to his house. He thanks them and climbs into his place. Though he had fun with Alex, there’s nothing like being in his own shower and being able to fall into the cushion of his own couch.

He feels at peace right as he turns on his TV. There’s a knock. He huffs but pushes up from the couch. Michael doesn’t really give a full glimpse into the peephole. He cracks open the door, regardless, and he can’t believe his own eyes. “You’re not real. You can’t be real.”

Sylvie reaches out and wraps her slender fingers around his forearm. “A projection can’t do that.”

“A hallucination could.”

“Take a picture,” she counters. They’ve both been around long enough to know that if she shows up in that picture that Michael’s in deeper trouble than he thought. He keeps his eyes trained on her but lifts his hands and beckons the phone to him. She grins a little, noticing the small purple glow around the device. He hasn’t lost his touch all these years later.

When Michael brings the camera up and sees her, his first reaction is to shut the door. To just slam it so he doesn’t have to deal with whatever bomb she’s about to drop on him. And, of course, she anticipates it. She senses the spike in fear and throws a hand up to stop the door. “We need you.”

“I made my choice Sylvie.”

“We need you, Michael.”

No, they can’t need him. He renounced them. Not that he would’ve chosen to go about it that way. If there were any other way to choose the band but still keep an official connection with the cove, he would’ve chosen that. Not that he would’ve completely dropped them, and he hadn’t truly let communication with them cease. But he is living his dream. His life is normal. He can be himself. He doesn’t have to worry about the Hunters anymore. He doesn’t have to look over his shoulder anymore.

“So you were at the club last night.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you stop me then? Why did you just lurk in the corner?”

She grins, her lips painted a pretty orange split to reveal her brilliant white teeth. “You looked a little busy last night. You always did like them tall, dark, and handsome.”

“I like them all actually,” Michael retorts.

“I remember,” she laughs with one eyebrow raising. Michael wasn’t rapid with his sex life before the band, and it’s still fairly tame in comparison. But he had his escapades. He had his bed filled with whoever tickles his fancy. No one ever judged him for it. And especially not Sylvie. She’s always been his wing woman. The two of them out in a town could wreck some chaos if given a long weekend.

“You guys were supposed to be done with me,” Michael sighs, waving for her to come inside.

“I wouldn’t bother you unless I had to.” She’s careful as she steps into his place. Only keeping her feet on the mat. She hates to be intruding. If Sylvie had any other choice, anyone else she could’ve gone to, she wouldn’t be at Michael’s door. It was hard to see him go, but she never thought less of him. She had loved and still loves Michael. “Our coven’s shrinking. Not by choice.”

Michael holds up a single finger, shushing her. “Do you want water? Tea? Do you want to watch a cup of coffee get cold?” There’s no way he’s having this conversation like they aren’t old friends, like they haven’t spent nights gorging themselves on too many cartons of ice cream and pizza.

“Just water, please.”

“No one will smite you, Sylvie. You’re okay here to be free.”

“I can’t be disrespectful,” she counters, slipping out of her shoes and leaving them near the door.

“Consider it disrespectful for you to be so proper in my house.” Michael returns from the kitchen with two glasses of water and sits at his table. “Sit, kick your feet up. I’d say take your hair down. But it already is.”

Sylvie carefully treks across the hardwood floors and settles down. His house is nice, kind of minimal, but it’s functional with the open floor plan. It appears to be becoming more popular as time goes on. His furniture is ashen gray or an ashy brown. It’s cozy and inviting, but it still reads with an air of sophistication. “You grew up, I see.”

“Just this part of the house. You should see my office.”

As her lips wrap around the glass, she smiles. Michael always had a little bit of mess that followed him. Though he was mostly neat and organized. “How was Alex?”

“You’re still eavesdropping I see.”

“I had to know if I could approach or not. And you looked quite taken by your man. So I didn’t want to interrupt.”

It’s as Michael diverts his gaze and his cheeks turn a hair pink that she gets her answer. “You’re here because you need something and my sex life isn’t it I assume.”

“Oh, who’s saying that’s not at least part of it.”

Michael’s not sure why he expected her to have changed in their six years apart. Maybe it was the hair. She hadn’t really changed much about that, but now it was longer. And the ends are dyed various shades of purple. She was having some fun in her life. Michael really didn’t want it to be about him either. “The truth, Sylvie. What’s happening with the coven?”

The glass sits down with a soft clink on his table. “What’s always happening to us.”

“Hunters,” Michael states as he reclines into the woven back of his chair. That was a plague that never left them alone. It’s not like their coven had ever harmed anyone. Michael doesn’t miss them. Not in the slightest. “But I thought Annabelle took over. She was unshakable.”

“She was.”

Michael looks at her. It’s the way she says it, with a twinge of a heaviness that Michael does not like. Sylvie doesn’t meet his eye, instead staring down at the mark of her orange lipstick on the glass. “Don’t tell me.”

And she doesn’t have to. When she nods, Michael falls back into the seat. Not Annabelle, she was the best out of them. “Fuck,” Michael whispers.

When Tyler wanted to step down within the next few years, he had initially turned to Annabelle. She turned it down because she wasn’t ready. Tyler turned to Michael, but that was just mere weeks before Michael went vocal about his indecision and that he wanted to be normal. He wanted to pursue music. He wanted the band to be successful and not just a hobby.

Tyler made it clear in the beginning that he was just training Michael, bringing them in more high-level decisions. That Michael wouldn’t be expected to take over until he was older and much more confident with his skills. Michael went with Tyler to council meetings. None that were earth shattering important. They were important enough. But all the while, Michael would skip sessions to hang out with the band. He would miss late night training to take trains and perform at the bottom of hotels. He knew he was skating on thin ice with Tyler, and he had to come clean, eventually. The guys were noticing him always being tired, not focused. It was quickly becoming a train wreck for Michael.

“Because there’s so few of us, Hunters are doing their best to exterminate us,” Sylvie starts. “Joslene was studying under Annabelle. But word’s come down from Council that Hunters have records. On all of us. Where we’ve been. Who we know. Where we’re at. I think more Hunters are appearing incognito.”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to do about that, Vie. I’ll be more careful. But I don’t know what I can do for the coven.”

“Help us. Council’s meeting again in a week. Fight with us.”

“If you think I can just drop everything, hike my ass out to wherever Council is and accept them to take me back after I renounced you guys, that won’t happen.”

“They’ll understand. They sent me to find you.”

Michael blinks, arms folding to his chest. They sent Sylvie to find him. Council is not the type to send invitations to everyone. “They know I renounced.” He means it more as a statement, but it slips out with a small upturn. They had to know. Michael swore his blood, and to leave they had to take it back. They had to know about that. There had to be records of how Michael stood on the edge of their circle and nearly shit his pants.

Renouncing did not occur often. In fact, he had seen no one renounce in his time with his coven. He only heard stories. The way people dropped, the way they turned ashen. The way they got sick after, too. But knowing that just on the other side that he’d have the life he wanted was Michael’s only saving grace. If no one took a record of how the blade stung worse than being initiated in his palm, if no one took a record of how Michael swore within a blink he was face first into dirt because his eyes literally couldn’t focus, then it would fucking suck. There had to be someone even by word of mouth that would tell about how Michael vomited for what seemed like three days after too. He prays someone mentioned all of that to Council.

She nods. “They know. But you’re special, Michael.”

He groans. Not the spiel he wanted to hear. He’s heard it all a thousand times before. He wasn’t special. He was never meant to do anything world changing. He was just a dude with a guitar. That’s all he’ll ever be, too.

“Michael, just entertain me for five minutes,” Sylvie huffs.

“I’m not special. I’m never going to be special. So you can tell Council to take that script back to the drawing board.”

“We aren’t supposed to possess powers like that and you know it. We derive things from the earth. Maybe we can play a little trickery on the mind, but all in all, we’re here to keep balance. We give back and we take away. We use what the earth gives us. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“I didn’t ask for those powers. I didn’t ask for it and you know it.”

Michael pushes up from the chair and begins his short walk to his couch. He didn’t. He always believed that there was a balance, a power that most people were afraid to tap into with being able to influence, conjure, and heal. He always felt electricity when it came to nature and the elements. Even the dead had energy, they gave to the dirt; the dirt brought forth plants—food and oxygen. And they were all bound to give back. It’s just how that had to work to live. There was death right on the other side of the coin. But he didn’t ask to be bestowed with anything extra in his beliefs. He only asked to understand it better, to be a peacekeeper in his practices.

“I’m not saying you did. I’m saying you have them. Maybe there’s a reason.”

“Vie, I can’t. I can’t do what you’re asking me. To jump back in?”

“They slit her throat, Michael.”

He cringes at the confession. He knows she’s talking about Annabelle. He doesn’t even want to picture the lifeless stare, the thick blood oozing down her skin. With the palms of his hands covering his ears, Michael walks in circles. “You didn’t just say that.”

“She let them catch her.” Even though the skin and muscle of his hands muffle her voice, they don’t block it out completely. “They wore plain street clothes. They stalked us. I saw them first. I told Annabelle we needed to move. She said she was tired of running. So we stayed. We stayed and when they nearly cornered us in the middle of the fucking day on a backstreet, she stopped. She told us to keep going and that she would catch up, try to give them a bait and shake them. Maybe she was tired of a lot more, too.”

Michael watches her, hands trembling as she stands. Her voice shakes too, her chin wobbling. “I didn’t see it, but I heard it. They cheered. They fucking cheered as she lay there. So yes, yes, I am asking you to do the very thing you don’t want to do because I don’t want to be next. I don’t want Joslene, Terry, Kyle—I don’t want them to think that is our fate too. We have to do something. We can’t just wait like lambs for the slaughter.”

Michael’s eyes sting. He hates to see her cry. He really does. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. He was not supposed to get caught back up in this shit. He was supposed to have given himself back to the earth and be free. “Sylvie, please, no,” he whispers. He’s not equipped to handle tears. Especially not from her.

“I’m scared, Michael. And I know you don’t want to deal with this. I know you didn’t need me giving you this, but we need help. You-you need to be careful too.”

Michael wraps her shoulders into his arms and her head falls into his chest. Her body feels like a leaf in the autumn breeze, quivering against him. “It’s gonna be okay,” he offers softly. The words feel a little hollow. How does he know that things are all going to be alright? How can he offer platitudes and not agree to even see what he can do to help?

But does Michael really want to go down this road? If he gets caught up in this before the tour and winds up severely injured or worse, there will be larger repercussions than just ducking the critical eyes of his parents. He has the band, fans, management all relying on him too. He’s integral to more things now.

Sylvie shivers continue to crawl up her body, but she eases herself out of Michael’s embrace. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Michael whispers. “Don’t be sorry. You never have to be sorry.”

It’s with a firm nod that Sylvie turns back to the door. “I can’t stay long. Remember Council meets in a week, seven days to the dot. Right at sunset.” She rattles off the exact location as she slips into her shoes and then without enough time for Michael to offer her a couple minutes to collect herself, she disappears.

“At least it wasn’t in a puff of smoke,” he jokes. It’s followed with a halfhearted chuckle.

Seven days. That’s all he had.

Michael tries to continue on with meetings like everything’s okay. He tries not to think about the way death seemed imminent. Even if he, himself, didn’t agree to help and didn’t want to put his own life in harm’s way, many more would die. It messed with his head more than he cared to admit. Would Michael be responsible for more deaths if he backed out? It was probably more he was taking on than he should be, but he kept thinking about Sylvie. Michael, once a witch, but never able to disrupt fate, couldn’t on his own save everyone. That was just a fact.

He couldn’t save everyone. But still it sits on his chest like lead and makes his stomach queasy. He couldn’t save everyone. He could never save everyone. Even if he wanted to, he would never excel in that regard. Sleep’s evasive. Whenever Michael closes his eyes, he sees Annabelle blond hair and pale skin dyed red with her own blood. He sees the river that stains the concrete. He sees Sylvie dangling from a tree.

He bolts upright. His body is damp. Even the fan at the foot of his head on the highest setting and the AC going can’t keep the fear away. Hunters have always been ruthless. They’re only aim is to strike fear into a witch’s heart. They do it well. Taught from a young age just like him. But they are taught to hate, to exclude rather than include.

Michael looked over his shoulder at school, even though it wasn’t a long stint in the grand scheme of his life. It was long enough. He waited, he watched for any boy, upon locking eyes, to mime slitting his throat. It happened once while he waited for the bus.

Michael tried not to bother anyone. He liked to keep to himself. It guaranteed him that no one would know, no one would try to bother him. But in town, where being close had no alternative, rumors circled. His whole family was judged. The murmurs and rumors were true. But it didn’t matter how peacefully they lived. It didn’t matter how deep they hid the lessons and markings, everyone stared.

Michael doesn’t resent his parents. He loved them dearly and still does. He appreciates the teachings and the perspective. He still believes, though he’s not supposed to practice anymore after renouncing. It was hard to feel like he wasn’t in the wrong, when at twelve he waited for his bus, a backpack on his shoulder, minding his own business and grown men threatened him. Parents of kids that he kind of got along with spitting at him that he would face the consequences for his kind had done. They blamed him and everyone like him for every sinister that occurred in the town, in the country, in the universe really.

“You were twelve,” he reminds himself, feeling the shame overtaking him again. “You were a fucking kid. I was a child!” he screeches into the dark of his room. The tears sting, but Michael welcomes it. Welcomes the reminder he is still alive though he was taunted. His chest aches as the first sob crosses his lips. He remembers scrubbing at his skin, trying to remove the mark at his bicep. All it is now in memory is a blur of tears, blood, and his mother wailing when she finds him in the bathroom.

In the dark, Michael traces his bicep. The ink is gone, but the scar tissue holds the bumps of his marking. He can feel it. He knows it’s still there. Being a witch never really leaves you. If they make you give the blood of bond back, it’s never really gone. It lingers. It’s embedded in the psyche. Michael will always remember the chants, he will always feel the surge of electricity in his body by passing nature, when tending his garden, when he recharges and clears his stones. He’ll never get rid of the tingle in his fingers when he finds just the right stone for something, and he holds it for the first time.

Michael re-tattooed the mark onto his calf long after he renounced. He missed that family, and though they’d never see it, he wanted the universe to know that he carried a piece of them with him with pride. He felt bad for trying to hide that. Shame was a beast of an emotion, and it won sometimes. More times than Michael wanted to admit that it had won.

Bringing his knees to his chest, Michael caresses gently the black ink on the back of his calf. It’s smoother, feels right under his fingertips. That is still his family. Will they think less of him if he chooses the band again? Will he have turned his back on them for the final time?

There’s no use in attempting sleep, so Michael peels himself out of the sheets and shuffles in the dark to his bathroom. On his short journey, he looks to his clock. It’s two thirty in the morning. He has half an hour. Maybe there are more answers waiting for him outside of his own consciousness. He hasn’t practiced in a couple years. He kept up when he first renounced, but as the band got busier, practicing fell to the waste side. But something about now, with four days left, he has to know. Or at least attempt to know, to see if there’s any resolution.

As the water, colder than he usually goes for, sprays and slides down his body, Michael drops his head into the tile of the shower. It’s a welcomed coolness, something to take the edge off for the moment. His hair still drips once he’s done, down his face and onto the hardwood floor. A trail left behind to trace his path from bathroom to bedroom, from the bedroom to his music room. Now, sitting staring at the door to the closet inside his music room, Michael blinks. He hasn’t touched this stuff in years. Not even the handle to this door.

He can hear the ticking of his clocks. He has fifteen minutes left. Fifteen minutes to build up the courage. Or that’s what it was the last time he checked. He can see the red time blaring at him from across the pitch black room. But he hasn’t looked over since then. What if the waters show him his death? Is he prepared to handle that? With a thundering heart, Michael looks up to the clock. Ten minutes left. It takes ten minutes if his memory hasn’t faded to set it up. His fingers wrap around the door handle. Another deep breath and he turns the handle.

There stacked in the corner are the brown boxes from when he moved. He lifts the first box. The round glass is still wrapped in the tissue and newspaper that he used so carefully to pack it up from the last place to this one. Completely unraveling it, he sets it down on the couch. He remembered to bring the water with him before he stared at the closet door. It saved some time. But now he has to open that bottom box. He has to crack open his wooden mortar and pestle. He’ll have to look upon the graying iron cauldron with its three moon phases carved to it. A waxing moon, a full moon, and a waning moon.

“You don’t really have time to waste,” he warns and in a rush of courage, pulls the box out. He lugs out his cauldron, lifting the false bottom, and replaces it with the glass. The window, with blinds already lifted, have the lights of the city starting to shine through. He can see himself, the fringe, the blonde streaks, the water droplets still sliding down the strands. One splashes, exploding into smaller droplets onto the glass. One drop. Just one drop to cause such a volatile reaction.

Michael’s fingers buzz a little as he settles onto the floor, legs crossed. He brings the cloth with his herbs closer to him with just one crook of his finger. No witch should be able to do that, no one should be able to do what he can. Most of them still refer to it as telekinesis, but there was something more nuanced to it. Michael wasn’t moving objects. He was just moving and manipulating their energy. He felt it with everything. The rest of them did too. But according to Sylvie, he felt it more intensely; he felt it with everything. Instead of the energy having a point where he could no longer touch it, he could only do more with it.

Where others had to use potions to manipulate the mind, Michael only had to feel. It worried him the first time he did it. That’s the first time he really felt like a monster. Like he was an outlier in the group of outliers. That’s when the spiral started; that’s when he tore his own skin. That’s when he turned to music. He wasn’t weird or a freak there. The fucked up part is that if Sylvie ever told him that she had done anything like he had to himself, he would’ve flipped his lid. He would’ve done everything to convince her she was normal, that nothing was wrong with her, and yet, he hadn’t been able to convince himself of it.

He chose the band so he could be normal. So that maybe the kid that was scared all the time would have something that made them feel whole. The truth of the matter is it that Michael would never be normal. It was an inescapable fact. He wasn’t sure how to handle that before. But now, as he adds the water and sees his reflection rippling, he thinks not being normal isn’t so bad. In the grand scheme of things, no one was normal. People all had their secrets, things they wanted to hide and keep under wraps. Everyone had their traumas, things that had fucked him up. But they all put on fronts. Everyone was pretending. Every single person on Earth had a face they hid from the world. This was just his. This was the face he didn’t want to show anyone.

Before he adds his herbs to the cauldron, Michael cleanses his space. He uses rue, letting the scent waft from the herb in his hand. It fills his lungs and part of him misses that feeling, misses the ease at which he can pick the sage and yarrow from this assortment on the cloth next to him. They float, as always, just before Michael rests a hand to the iron and watches the first bubbles come to life.

His lips barely move as he whispers. The chant falls over his lips with ease. He needs answers, guidance maybe too. But he just needs something, anything to reveal to him what he needs to be doing. What he should choose in this situation. Before the heat can warp the glass Michael pulls his hand away and bubbles rise to the top. The fragrance paints the room thickly and for half a second his head spins. He forgets how potent this can be.

Already as he pours his taste, he can see the water shifting. It turns cloudy; the herbs giving into the heat and releasing their color. The first sip’s hot for sure and it hurts just a little too, but as Michael relaxes, he can feel the earthy taste hitting the top of his head. He goes for one more. But that’s all. Not even a full gulp, just enough to coat the top of his tongue and let his throat know that he’s got something in his mouth.

His eyes are unfocused. The black looks even blurrier and the streaks of moonlight don’t settle into one beam when he looks at the spot on the floor that it illuminates. Michael looks back into the water and it’s no longer see through. His own tired eyes and semi dry hair do not stare back at him. Instead, he sees Sylvie. It’s a restful night, it appears, until he watches for a beat longer. She twitches. Her face contorts, as if in pain, with her nose wrinkled and the skin of her forehead furrowed.

What could she be dreaming about? Though Michael can tell it’s not a good dream. If he even dares to call it that. She flips to her back; the sheets twisted around her body. The rise and fall of her chest is captivating until with a slight screech, her eyes fly open. She stares up, straight at Michael and if it weren’t the fact that he knew he was not actually watching above her, he would think she could see him. That she would whisper to him what plagued her, what ruined her dreams.

She pushes up, legs swinging to the edge. She sits, head slump, the curls pulled to the top of her head. Like this, Michael can see the shaved sides, how she hadn’t kept all her hair over the years. Just some of it. This isn’t what Michael had hoped for. He was hoping for something, a sign, the blinding light at the end of the tunnel for him so he knew which way to run. But all he got was Sylvie, in probably rougher shape than him.

Michael closes his eyes. Soon, the light peering in behind his eyelids dance and he can see something else. It’s just flashes, just the feeling of being dropped. The one that forces his gut down and then he lands. It’s screaming fans. The lights of the stage playing back in his eyes, but it’s the stage. A scene he’s lived so vividly, playing to thousands of people at a time in one room, sharing one experience, but all of them experiencing it slightly differently. Before Michael can stand, before he can slip the guitar over his head and grab onto the microphone, he feels his descent again.

He lands again, but on some high up branches peering down. He recognizes Council and watches them, standing a few feet apart from a small cluster. He spies Joslene’s dyed red hair. There were so many more of them. They never had large numbers, but they were substantial. Now, on his perch, Michael can count them. All 83 of them. His chest aches. He doesn’t wait for the next scene. His blinks open to the dark night of his music room. He stares at the cauldron, but not into it.

He can only imagine the number of Hunters has increased. They have not slowed, knowing that extinction is right on the horizon. But what can he do? He’s one man, one body in the war that raged for years. That can’t be all of them. He knows it can’t be. Less than a hundred, it’s so small. Those must be the ones willing to risk it all. And he knows Sylvie was amongst them. With his head still swimming, Michael pulls all the heat from the metal and lets the water cool. The cloudiness won’t dissipate fully, but the bubbles will stop. He cleanses the area again with rue. Resting his head into the cushions of the couch, he tries to let the drink pull him into other insights.

Maybe better dreams will find him when he stops searching for answers.

********

Something’s off. Though it’s a little cloudy and there’s a chance of rain later in the day, Michael knows something is off and more so than just the weather. It starts when he can feel someone watching him. He’s been in the café many times. Grabbing some coffee before heading into the study. He’s been here writing when he needs a place outside of work and his house to release his creative energies. He’s been here too late in the day to think about coffee when he wants to get out but has nowhere else to go.

It’s maybe a little stupid not to change up his routine after Sylvie’s warning. He hadn’t really thought too much about his own safety. Not until now. He glances up from his phone, taking a quick survey of the workers in front of him. All are bustling, calling orders over their shoulders to each other and to the guests. The stare is from behind him. With the chime of the bell alerting the shop of another customer, Michael glances behind him, mostly at the door but watching for any sudden movement.

Nothing happens. Though Michael’s sure he sees someone staring him down. He pushes up his glasses, and for sure, a brunette woman smiles at him. He’s seen her before at this very café. He almost asked her out once. In the smile, Michael knows the edge of danger. She drops her gaze even lower. Michael knows she’s looking at his calf. He wore shorts today out of desperation on the laundry front.

He’s made himself a target. Without even thinking about it. When his order is called, he stands and grabs it off the counter. Michael pockets his phone and calmly picks it up. He briefly wonders if she will start something right now in the middle of this place. He keeps his back turned, working the cardboard slip over the hot cup. There’s nothing under the buzz of whirring machines and the shouts.

At the door, one hand poised to push it open, Michael smiles in return. “Like what you see?”

The woman’s smile turns more shy, ducking her head. “Maybe.”

Michael hums and steps back. He keeps his voice low. “You’ve made yourself obvious.” He takes a quick survey of the room. Three more pairs of eyes zero in on him. They must be her associates. “And I remember a face. If I see you and your friends again, there’s gonna be a problem.”

The bell chimes again as Michael steps through it. Down the street, Michael forgoes his usual headphones and music blasting combination in the off chance that things go south. How long have they been watching him? How did he not notice them before? He chalks it up to some of it being living in bliss. He didn’t think he had to keep watching over his shoulder after he moved away. Trouble couldn’t follow him across the globe. But it had. And it had been right under his nose this entire time.

Did this mean that the rest of the guys were being watched too? The guys knew Michael had family things, even when the band was just beginning. Michael never said what it was. He never told them properly that he was a witch. They wouldn’t judge him, or at least he hopes they wouldn’t. Michael likes to keep this to a need to know basis and if he reveals everything to the guys, does that make it look like he will turn his back on them?

Besides, if Michael does nothing to help Sylvie and the rest of his ex-coven, that guilt, the shame of knowing that they are going head first into death will be too heavy. He can’t have that. He can’t let them dive off into the choppy waters below. It’s not a lot that he can promise them in the grand scheme of things. What they have is not a lot, but there’s a real chance that they may not give it up. He can very well be met with resistance. It’s only an assumption, a hope that they crave stability. Maybe there’s a small part of them he can leverage. He can’t promise them freedom. He can’t promise them that Hunters still won’t come after them. But Michael can damn sure make sure they’re not subjected to the throes of death.

*******

Michael arrives early. Much too early for it to be smart to be out with this much daylight still out. But it’s his only chance of catching Sylvie before the meeting. And sure enough, just as the skies turn a hair pink, he sees the first coven arrive. They stare at him, not blinking, not sneering, just gazing. As if consuming art in a fine arts museum. Not sure what they’re looking at but knowing they’re gazing at and seeing something. Michael’s not used to that blank of a stare. Though, he doesn’t hate for the first time in his life that no one’s screaming in his face, nor is anyone judging him harshly. Blank stares are better than anything else.

More rustling stirs the still evening. All of them turn to the sound. Sylvie steps out behind Joslene. Both of the men, Terry and Kyle, carry the rear, though Kyle keeps close to Sylvie. He looks young, the fat of his cheeks not melted away just yet. But Michael doesn’t dwell on that too much before stepping towards them. When Sylvie spots him, she smiles. Oh, Michael hopes she keeps that smile too after everything. “You came.” The disbelief is clear, and the excitement is palpable.

“I need to talk to you. Just for a second.”

With a nod, they backtrack, away from the group but still able to see, if and when, more join them. “I don’t like the sound of that,” Sylvie whispers.

“I came here. As a courtesy. The band is literally weeks away from touring. I can’t go up missing, dead, or injured.”

She gets that. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear. It doesn’t mean that’s what she was hoping to hear. The letters were nice. Seeing the same address from him let her know that Michael had found his groove. That in his world he has settled into the path best suited for him. “Then go. Perform. Be normal, you have your shot.”

“But I need you to come with me. I need you to convince whoever else is close to you to leave with me. Renounce and I can keep you all safe.”

Sylvie sputters, all the words are crowding her tongue and make it nearly impossible for any of them to fall out. “Turn my back on them? I can’t do that, Michael.”

“And I can’t leave here with you. You asked for my help! This is it.” He takes pause, watching her wide eyes. She takes a step back from him. Like he just reached back to strike her. “I can’t save everybody. And I can’t be here too much longer.” Once Council shows up, Michael knows he can’t be here and still say he’s refusing to offer help in their dire need. He might as well put his own head on a stake for them.

“This is my family, Michael. The only family I’ve ever had!”

“Convince them. I can work with management. I can keep you guys safe and sheltered until you get back on your feet. If you stay here, if you choose them, you will die. Hunters are everywhere, just like you said.”

“And you think, hiding will be any better. At that point, I might as well already be dead. You wanted something else; you wanted to hide. But I can’t.”

She goes to step pass Michael. There’s nothing else he can say or do that will make her change her mind. If she’s going to die, then she will die fighting for what she believes in. Michael captures the crook of her elbow, his blunt nails firm around her skin. “I don’t want you to hide. I just want you safe. You aren’t safe like this.”

“Not everyone’s looking for a way out.”

Michael let’s go of her arm. “I-I’m not-I don’t want--” It hurts. How could she say that? He loves them. This is his family and even if he doesn't show it very well, he cares. Why the hell else would he have come here? “You don’t mean that.”

“Were you or were you not looking a way out of the stares? Were you not looking to hide, Michael?” She can’t believe that Michael can’t see how selfish it is to want her to turn her back on her family. Michael had the safety net. She does not.

“No, I was looking for my fucking purpose in life. I was looking for the kid that never wanted to grow up and show him it was all worth it!”

There is nothing but silence between them. Though, the heavy sighs of their seething break the tension. Sylvie knows part of this might be out of anger. Maybe she’s trying to make Michael prove himself. But it’s all true. If he was looking for the guiding light in his life, then why would he have to come back? She knew she had asked him to help. But he could’ve said no. He had every opportunity to not show up.

Michael knows she’s stubborn. He knows that she does not back down from her beliefs. And as he watches the frown pull down her lips, he knows he’s losing her. She’s not going to back down from this fight. The frown disappears, something sad pulling at her face more. “I hope he’s happy. You should be proud.”

“Sylvie, don’t.”

“Go home, Michael. This doesn’t have to be your problem anymore.”

“I’m not leaving with you. Whatever it takes.” Even if he tries to manipulate her, even if he’s still strong and skilled enough to suspend her autonomy, it won’t last long. She’ll break free. She’ll find her way to send herself headfirst into her death.

There’s no wise rebuttal, no smartass comeback. She just turns again. Michael swears into the darkening violet skies. He calls the buzzing to the surface of his skin—the link that makes the world an overbearing sensory chamber if he’s not careful. And he can feel it, the hot wafting waves of determination and resolve on her. He expands the buzzing, making it a bubble surrounding him, and then pushes.

The grass and leaves shake as the field of energy brushes over them. Then, right on the edge, he brushes over her energy. Everyone radiates an energy that can be manipulated. Some are easier to manipulate than others. Though more often than not, the preferred method is through use of herbs and concoctions. It’s usually slower and not as harsh as direct manipulation. It’s as if Michael is pressing his hands up against glass. He can see her, see the thing he wants to touch, but can’t put his hands directly on it. Like a kid pressed up to the glass of a shop with their Christmas display in bright and dazzling lights.

Sylvie turns, feeling the slight vibration. It feels like something using a feather to tickle her. She knows what he could do, what he wants to do. “You may have a power most don’t. But you haven’t practiced in years.”

Michael presses on. And presses on. And presses on. She doesn’t budge. It has been too long. He’s not as strong as before. With an extra step, feet planted a little wide but pushing his weight down into the earth and through it, Michael tries again. She shakes, the edge of her energy wobbling just a little to his. His in, his one last shot at getting the both of them out of here alive.

One scream pierces the now-settled-night. Michael looks behind, looks over into the field. Hunters surround the convened covens. Chains hang from their grasps. Some wield their knives. The unfortunate thing about being a witch, there’s no power that stops the blood that runs through their veins. There’s no potion or spell to cast that removes the flesh or the fragility of it.

Neither Sylvie or Michael can be sure they haven’t been spotted yet. Though it would be irresponsible to think they were safe from any threat at all. “How did they know?” Sylvie whispers mostly to herself.

The only people that knew about the meeting were the covens remaining and Council. In the few covens that Sylvie spoke to personally, no one looked suspicious. But that would be the nature of the game. If anyone was a turncoat-a witch but now turned Hunter operating to feed intel, they would have to blend in. They would have to look natural.

Kyle. He’s the youngest, mostly a natural talent. But still unrefined in techniques and still learning hand-to-hand combat. Sylvie doesn’t have to think too much longer. There’s only action. Michael watches her go. Bent at her knees and reaching into the top of her boots. They come up to her knees. He sees the glint, catching just a small shift in the light before it disappears. Most likely a dagger wrapped in her hands.

The window is closing. Michael’s height of opportunity comes to its crashing low. In the gap of time between Michael letting her go and his legs starting to carry him away from the inevitable blood bath, Michael thinks if he were in the middle of that, maybe the regret wouldn’t be as insurmountable as he once thought. That even if there were disappointments to his death, maybe there would’ve been a ripple in the universe to offset it.

Soon, though, his legs are overtaking and he turns. He’s never been a runner, never enjoyed the squeeze and ache in his chest from his lungs overexerting. But he runs. He pushes one foot in front of the other. It’s an act of self preservation. Just because he thinks he could’ve made that choice doesn’t negate the fact that he had other choices to make.

It’s not very far. A few meters before Michael sees a Hunter running for him. There’s nothing in his ears but the blood thundering in his own heart. It’s hard to see clearly what weapon might be his undoing. Though the closer they become, the more Michael thinks his only safe option is to go low. So Michael, as the distance closes in, shifts, lets his left go extend out as his right hip drops. His knee and thigh hit the ground first, and he slides. He sweeps their ankles and though there’s not a lot of momentum to keep him going forward. He scrambles to his feet. It goes against the fair rules in a fight, but in a fight of survival, Michael does not let them have time to regain too much breath.

There’s nothing but trees at this point. But feeling the roots of the trees, Michael brings them up, palms extended to the ground to feel them and direct with more precision. The ground shakes just a little as they break through the dirt. Michael flicks his wrist, palms now facing each other. The roots freeze for a moment before diving back down into the first. Wrapped in their web is the Hunter. They swear as the roots wrap around tighter, feet kicking to get them up with no avail.

Time will be their undoing. Or that’s the hope, at least. Michael spins and returns to his run. On the break in the trees, Michael fumbles forward. His chest burns. Everything hurts, shoulders, hips, knees. “Okay,” he pants. “Gotta get back into the gym.” The words fall in pants with heavy breaths between them.

He bends over, hands on his knees, and he gives himself just one more moment to regain his breath. It’ll be his last moment before he needs to get moving again. In the last deep inhale and exhale, Michael swears he’s going to cough up blood. It never comes. He straightens and carries on down the small embankment. The trees look bodies looming in the night as Michael descends. He listens, but there’s nothing heard besides a fluttering of owls. The hum of the cities below drum in his ears too. Maybe it’s better like this. He can imagine the sounds of what’s happening in the bowels of this forest, but he won’t ever go to bed knowing exactly what they sound like.

Michael is glad that he kept a more inconspicuous vehicle around as he reached the small parking lot at the bottom of the hiking trails. No one’s going to think too much about the lone Toyota. The lights blink as Michael unlocks the door. He’s shocked he didn’t completely crush the remote in his pocket, and he’s even more glad it didn’t jostle out of his pockets.

The moment he clicks the door closed and locked, Michael reclines his head into the worn plush cloth. Will this be the end? Will Michael mourn lives he used to know? Will he mourn ghosts, shells of who they were but never knowing them in the present? Will his life still be in danger? He can only assume it’s more dangerous now than ever. If that Hunter is discovered, they will tell the others. They will not leave him alone, not if he’s the last witch to roam.

His chest still aches from the run. Though part of the fresher pain is from the stabbing of the sob that threatens to bypass his lips. There’s no time for that, he reminds himself. He still has to get out of here. Alive at that too. He’s still got to make it out of here alive. The time for tears is later. The streets are barren as Michael pulls out of the lot and onto the highway. He’s not even on the highway for a mile or so before he sees two bodies in his headlights.

It could be a ploy. Two Hunters that are waiting for Michael to break his resolve. Though his gut tells him to pull over. He slows, pulling the car off to the shoulder. The headlights illuminate the shadows. A young boy, probably younger than Michael, with a body hanging off to the left of him. Their arm is slung over his shoulder and he’s doing his best to keep them upright.

“You’ve always been stubborn as hell,” Michael calls out, jogging to approach. Sylvie barely glances at him. Her body is much too heavy and wants to succumb to gravity. Michael tries his best to not let the shakes in. He tries not to think too much about how thick her blood is on his hands. How it feels like it’s seeping into his skin.

Michael keeps a towel over the backseat just in case of dogs or anything spilling. For a split moment, Michael thinks about the stain that could be left behind. How that would haunt him. It’s fleeting, never settling firmly into place before panic claws its way in. Michael tugs his sweatshirt off and covers where he assumes major wounds are. There’s no way to tell clearly in the night, and the light from overhead is too dim. She holds her hands just under her chest.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Kyle,” he responds.

“Keep that on the wound. Press kind of hard, okay? Not too hard, though.”

Kyle takes over, hovering over her head, having entered from the passenger side backdoor. “She said we could trust you. I-I don’t know what’s happening. We were just supposed to meet with Council.” Kyle’s voice trembles as Michael reaches into the middle console of the car. “One moment, she’s walking off with you and we’re waiting. And the next, these Hunters are having a fucking field day. I—I don’t even know how they knew.”

Sylvie whizzes. Michael feels her fingers curling into the cotton of his sweatpants. “I’m right here,” he calls out. “I’m right here.”

“She said someone on the inside had to be feeding them information. We couldn’t really confirm who. But no one from Council was there. So maybe them?” The words keep falling from Kyle’s mouth. He wants them to stop, but they just don’t. He can’t stop them. If he does, it makes it real.

Michael tunes him out, listening to the way Sylvie’s whizzing beneath them. “I know I brought it,” he huffs. Tears are blurring his vision. Michael blinks them away. There’s nothing but papers, tissues, some random CDs that Michael forgot he left in the car that hold residency in the console. Michael swears, fingers trembling. He could’ve sworn he brought the bag with him. It was a soft brown velvet. He stashed it in his pocket before leaving tonight. He knows he brought it.

Stretching across the middle console, he reaches for the glove compartment. It has to be in here. “Hang on for me, Vie. Hang on,” Michael calls out. His chest constricts as his fingers slip on the small latch of the glove compartment.

“How do you know Sylvie?” Kyle asks. He tries not to think about how soaked they are in her blood and some of it is Kyle’s own blood in his shirt too. It’s mostly though. So much of it is hers. It’s a miracle she didn’t drop dead on the trek. Michael ignores the question, grabbing again at the latch. It falls open. He exhales a little when he spies the brown bag.

“You’ve always talked to fucking much,” Sylvie gasps, attempting a laugh but a groan interrupts it.

“Look at the pot calling the kettle black,” Michal quips. The bag isn’t big but he can hear the crystals clicking against each other as he pulls out the smaller plastic bag of herbs. He’s going to use old school medicine. Michael could attempt using his energy manipulation, but if she’s lost too much blood and is too weak, he won’t be strong enough to bring her back. Old medicine is slow, but it’s always effective.

Squashed between the driver's seat and backseat, Michael settles and nods to the trunk. “Grab me a bottle of water from the trunk.” A please would be better to add, but none of them are thinking of manners. Kyle nods. When his hands lift, Michael presses down.

Her skin ashen. The warm flush hat made her look young is gone. In front of Michael now is the grim reminder that when she meant she’d give her life, she was not bluffing. Sweat drips down his nose, but he doesn’t move to wipe it away. It’ll disguise the inevitable tears. “You cannot die on me. If you do, I’m bringing you back just to kick your ass again, you hear me?”

Sylvie gives a short laugh, a quick inhalation and exhalation that lets Michael know she hears him. “I’d haunt you first.” It comes out softly. The air barely catches onto the whispers and brings them to Michael’s ears.

Michael laughs. It’s shaky leaving him as the tears track down his cheeks. Kyle comes back with two bottles of water, the spare towels, and the first aid kit. Michael forgot about those. But he’s thankful and takes one to clean his hands. “You’ve been in situations like this before I see.”

It’s a joke. But when Kyle grimaces, hands pressing down on the soaked black sweatshirt, Michael apologizes. Knowing Sylvie, the poor kid has been in situations like this before. From the first bag, Michael removes a piece of St. John’s wort before finding a square of gauze. He leaves it herb side up on the floor of the car before rummaging back through the bag. It’s hard to see the stones in the bag, but Michael knows he’ll feel the garnet when he places his fingers on it.

When he gets a grasp on it, he sets that down on the same square of gauze. The small vial of tea tree oil is easy to find, and he goes back again for a small piece of aventurine. It feels silly at the moment to bring it out of the bag. They need it though; they need just a little of luck. So Michael places it into her palm. She grips it immediately, the smooth coolness settling into her palm.

Michael brings some tea tree oil up into the dropper. His heart squeezes in his chest when he reaches up to remove the soiled cloth. He’s praying it’s not too bad, but he knows, from the look of her, this won’t be a pretty sight. His fingers tremble. He has to furl them into a fist for a second to rid himself of the shakes. With one bottle of water opened, he counts down from three.

Kyle lifts his hands and the sweatshirt. Michael runs a little of water, just to see where the blood is coming from. There’s a deep gash. The blood oozes like a river. Michael sucks in a breath before using the clean towel to apply pressure.

His own veins quiver at the sight. The chill taking over his body again. He’s shocked she hasn’t made much of a sound. She hasn’t whimpered or mentioned feeling cold. Even though Michael knew he would not die when he renounced, he still panicked. He felt himself so close to death, and it made his own consciousness seize. All he could think to himself was he did not want to die. He was sure that in the chills, he was an inconsolable mess, whimpering constantly in pain.

There is nothing from her, just the whizz of her breathing. As if she’s using all the last mental efforts not to give into the pain. “I know you’re used to being strong all the time, Sylvie. Right now, you don’t have to be.” It’s a soft warning. She reaches out again for Michael with the hand not clutching the crystal. Blindly, she finds his shirt, fingers just brushing over the soft material. A tear tracks down the side of her face as she locks her gaze with him. “Fucking stubborn, you know.”

“Said that already,” she whispers. Her eyes close briefly, a brief wave of pain contorting her face. Every inhale feels like a brush of flames licking at her chest.

“I know. Just wanted to make sure you heard it.” Michael turns to Kyle. “I need to get her shirt out of the way.”

Kyle doesn’t take a beat to think before finding a hole in her shirt, from one of the multiple lacerations she sustained. When he gets a good grip, he yanks. The fabric crackles as it splits. It stops just at her chest, where her one arm is still resting. She moves it slowly.

Sylvie sees the fabric separating from the roof of the car from the age of the car. She thinks she should mention the plastic screws Michael could buy to keep it in place. She thinks about the constellations she could create with them. Anything other than the numbness now starting to take over. If she’s honest, she much prefers it to the burning, to the ache that repeatedly punched her chest.

Kyle grips again. The tearing sound echoes in the car's backseat. He repeats it one last time, having to lean over Sylvie and reach under Michael’s arms. Finally, the shirt hangs open around her torso. Two flaps that are only connected by the thin strap of the collar. When Michael lifts the towel again, he pushes the fabric further away. There’s not much thought, or at least not consciously, as Michael washes away more of the blood. His fingers slip around the garnet when he first reaches down for it.

Soon it’s firm in his grasps and he mediates a moment, with the stone wrapped in his fingers and placing it into the wound. It’s deeper than just a cut. It has to be a puncture. The thought nearly seizes his throat. It almost causes all the breath to leave his lungs. But he sucks it back in; he holds it in his lungs until he’s done. The gauze with the St. John’s wort is wrapped tight around her ribs. Kyle holds her head up to allow Michael’s hand to slip under.

The only thing about old school medicine, besides it working slowly, is that there is still a chance it won’t work. She could try to reject the clotting of the garnet stone. Though it won’t heal her completely, it’ll keep her alive until they can get to an ER. Michael has Kyle keep a close eye on her breathing while he wipes down the other cuts with tea tree oil and wraps them too with gauze with the St. John’s wort herb. They’re not great wraps, but he’s losing time.

Michael finally looks down at his hands, the olive green on his t-shirt now splattered in red. His hands looked dyed. If he didn’t know, if somehow his brain blocked out the last few minutes, he wouldn’t think it more than extra thick paint. But he knows. It’s not paint. It’s not the product of anything fun. He dumps the second bottle of water over his hands to loosen the stiffening substance. “You’re okay back here with her?” Michael asks.

“Yeah. I’ll be okay.” Kyle’s gentle as he brushes a stubborn curl away from her face.

Michael doesn’t think too much as he drives again. The contents of the glove box rattle for a good two miles before Michael realizes the noise is coming from inside the car. He slams it close. His brain is trying to map the fastest route. He can’t halfway think. Though he has to keep it together. He has to keep it together. He tries not to think about how he’s fifteen minutes from the closest hospital and how it might be five, ten, twelve minutes too long for her. No, that thought can’t enter the crevices of his mind. Not when he’s still mapping out the exit to take.

The interstate is clear. This far from the city makes sense, and he’s glad. A traffic jam is not what Michael needed at this moment. It’s risky blowing well over the speed limit. But there’s Sylvie, in his backseat, clinging to whatever ounces of life in her. So it doesn’t matter. Not in the slightest. Michael’s not sure if he truly exhaled until he’s turning into the hospital entrance. The car’s barely thrown into park before he jumps out.

The blood on his shirt, the tears that have stained his cheeks—he’s sure it’s all red alert for the nurses and doctors on staff. But with sharp acuity, they follow behind him. They carry bags, a gurney. He thinks he hears gloves snapping into place. There’s a specific squeak as someone slips into latex. Michael never thought about it until it was nearly the only sound that could calm him down.

Waiting is a far worse game. When she’s wheeled beyond doors that Michael cannot follow behind and he has to take a seat in the too bright waiting room, he thinks not having her wheezing in front of him is much worse than anticipating that any breath she gives is her last in front of him. At least then he would know. At least then he could’ve comforted her. Maybe his presence would’ve been a solace before she finally let go.

“Mate, what the hell happened to you?” Michael looks up. Calum stands with a furrowed brow. A black duffle bag drops settles at his feet. When did he call Calum? Was he the one that called or did a nurse ask if they could call someone for him? He’s not sure.

“She’s-it’s bad.” The proper words won’t form around his lips.

“So that’s not your blood?”

Michael shakes his head. His leg bounces as he holds himself up on his elbows. In his peripheral, his hair hangs, and it irritates him to no end. He’s not sure why, but for half a second he wants to cut it all off.

“You should go get changed,” Kyle urges. He took a nurse up on the change of clothes, but Michael couldn’t think properly to respond.

“C’mon,” Calum motions for Michael to stand. “You ain’t interrupt my evening at home just to sit here covered in someone else’s blood.” When Michael stands and picks up the bag from the floor, Calum gingerly places his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “The doctors got her, mate. And I’m here now. Ashton said he was twenty minutes out.”

Michael can only nod as he finds his way to the bathrooms. The hot water feels wrong. It feels wrong to watch the pink water swirl down the drain of the sink. But he cleanses himself. He lets all that he has left of her fall down the drain. What other option does he have? He stares at his reflection. Some blood is up on his cheek. He smears it and watches the water track down into his beard. There’s nothing in the reflection but his gaunt stare.

As Micheal returns to the waiting room, he spies Ashton talking to Calum. No doubt both of them are trying to figure out what happened. Two officers have joined their huddle too. “They just want to talk to you, mate,” Ashton attempts to convey. “They just want to talk. Who were you with?”

Michael looks down to Kyle and they both know they cannot trust anyone. “I found them on my way back home. The girl, Sylvie, I don’t know what happened to her. Both of them were just on the side of the road by the time I found them. So I pulled over to help.”

“How do you get her name?” One officer asks, pen poised.

“I asked. I saw she was losing a lot of blood. I wanted to see if she was conscious and fairly alert.”

“And the kid?” the other office asked. He looks gruff with the beard that’s graying. But he looks pleasant with round cheeks and a belly to match.

“Friend of hers, I guess.” Michael shrugs.

The older cop turns to Kyle. “What were the two of you doing?”

Michael prays that the kid can lie through his fucking teeth. “Just going for an evening walk through the trails. We were just about to head back since the sun was setting. She saw some ledge and climbed up it. I was following and got distracted by the view. She slipped. I went after her.” Michael’s impressed, but he’s hoping no one asks too many questions.

“Why didn’t you call in the problem?”

“Cell service was spotty the deeper we went in. I couldn’t get a signal, and I wasn’t going to leave her. So I carried her out the road and that’s when he,” Kyle gestures to Michael, “spotted us.”

The younger office turns up their mouth. As if trying to decide if the story is believable or not. “So she slipped?”

Kyle nods. It’s almost too easy to lie. But the more he tries to answer, the more he’s likely to fuck it up. So he just nods. The older man nods along too before asking, “Where were you guys?”

Both Michael and Kyle rattle off the name of the forest in the local state park. The older man nods again. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve been out there. Some of those ledges have a lot of loose rock if you’re not careful.”

Michael doesn’t know what this cop is on about. But he says nothing, he just blinks, hoping his face is neutral but concerned. “I followed the flat trails,” he offers. “I don’t know if you need that info or my old clothes?”

“The flat trails?” It’s almost like nothing about the story seems to add up for the young guy. Like he’s trying to find a hole, and Michael and Kyle can’t fill it fast enough.

“Flat trails. They tell you which ones have elevations. I’m not built for that because I fucking wiped out on the flat ones.” Michael gives a small laugh and finds the plastic bag with his clothes from the duffel. He hopes that covers any dirt they find on his pants.

The older man takes it, giving another big nod. They conclude with a couple questions before he stops. “Well, I think we just have a couple good fellas that did their best in a crisis.” The younger opens his mouth, but nothing ever falls over the gaping hole before the older man sends him to talk to a nurse. “Just two good men in a crisis,” he mutters again. As he turns, he scratches on his upper arm, right on the bicep.

And there in black ink is a spider web of minimalistic points and lines. A mark of an old school coven. Michael will forever remember their marking. He wanted that one as a kid. He wanted to be like them. Michael, maybe subconsciously or not so subconsciously, reaches for the scars on his arm. The short-sleeved shirt makes it obvious and though Michael would be annoyed that whoever packed his bag didn’t include a long sleeve shirt, he’s appreciative at the moment.

They’re not so alone. Maybe many more of them are hiding in plain sight.

As the cops exit the hospital, Michael realizes that if that older man was not like him, he would’ve been outed. With the herb and crystal bag still on the floor of his car and the bloodied towels and sweatshirt, it would’ve all looked too suspicious. Things wouldn’t have added up, but Michael knows now they won’t. They won’t even be a page or a blimp in the system about him or this incident.

“That’s fucking insane,” Ashton quips.

“You holdin’ up okay?” Calum questions.

Michael keeps watching the two cops leave, even makes sure both doors are sliding closed before he turns to his friends. Here, a moment for Michael to admit his truth. He chews on his bottom lip, wondering when the trembles stop their earthquakes in his hands. “What if I know Sylvie? What if I was almost in a position like hers?”

“I mean anyone can slip if they’re not careful on a ledge,” Calum returns.

He nods. Anyone can slip if they’re not careful on a ledge. “I know her though. We’re old friends.” Michael opts to start there. With small ounces of the truth. The guys may never know. Michael may never have the guts to tell them everything. But maybe there are enough guts for just a bite of it.

“So you were out hiking with her and him?” Ashton pauses for a moment, trying to piece together why Michael wouldn’t say that to the cops. Though maybe in the shock of everything, Michael just forgot to mention some things. “So you left the group early?” Ashton questions.

“I, I like ran into her and Kyle. We weren’t together. I just bumped into her after some years. It was strange,” Michael admits staring back at the doors that have yet to open.

No one asks too many questions. Not as they settle down into the chairs. Michael almost wishes they would ask him questions. It would give him something else to focus on besides the unknown. Luke arrives an hour later. “Sorry,” he rushes out. “I’m so sorry, Michael. Went out with Sierra and didn’t have my phone immediately near me.”

Michael shrugs. “It’s alright.”

“Calum said you looked like hell, but all I can see are bags,” Luke jokes. He knows the room’s tense. But he’s hoping a laugh will help.

Kyle and Michael follow the doctor back. The surgery was successful, though the road of recovery will be long, they are warned. The words hardly register as Michael replays the doctor’s first few words. It was by a miracle. There’s no mention of the garnet that they no doubt had to extract. There’s no mention of the gauze and herb. And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe there’s too much strangeness lingering about this as a whole that there need not be anymore.

Sylvie is swallowed up by the sheets of the hospital bed. Her eyes crack open for just a second, a blink in time. Michael and Kyle each take a side of her. Michael’s back to the window and Kyle’s to the door. “How come I’m the only one banged up?”

“Because you’re fucking stubborn,” they echo.

Michael gingerly takes her hand. “I thought you might not have let it work.”

Sylvie doesn’t look at him long. Just a quick blink, but she squeezes his fingers. “I gave up on time. Not you.”

It’s such a simple statement. Michael can feel the tears. They are squeezing at his chest. He drops to his knees, head resting into the plastic railing of the bed. Even when Michael wasn’t sure of what to do, even when he would choose the band, she would always root for him. She always had his back. It’s an awful feeling, walking around for years, shunning part of who he was. He was looking for an escape. But he was trying to figure out what made him happy. He was searching for a way to reconcile the consequences for his action.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. He catches the wisp of her lips and the air escaping between them as he sucks back the snot. “I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were wrong for choosing the band. It makes you happy.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t--” Michael takes a deep breath and looks to the ceiling as he blinks away the tears. “I didn’t know how to be both.”

She hums, “You don’t have to be.” It’s drowned out by the steady beeps of her heart monitor.

__________________________________________________________________________

There’s a knock on the bedroom door. Michael groans, placing the pillow over his head. “Go away,” he shouts.

“Breakfast is in the microwave.”

Michael grumbles to himself, his own hot breath blowing back into his face and getting trapped between the two pillows. Why couldn’t she sleep late like normal people do? It was a weekend anyhow. Michael is sure when he cracks open his eyes, his clock will read somewhere near the ass crack of dawn.

Soon the sandwich Michael has made of his own head becomes too hot and he removes the second pillow. His alarm clock shows 8:47. There are still a good two hours before anyone should’ve been shouting in his house, but he sits up anyway. She shouldn’t even be doing all of that standing just yet. But Sylvie is who she is, and if that means disobeying a doctor’s order because she is sick of lying around all day, then it means disobeying a doctor’s order.

Michael doesn’t bother with a shirt as shuffles into the front of the house. Sylvie’s not on the couch or at the dining room table. He finds her instead, standing over a pot on the stove. It bubbles and he can smell the rosemary. It hits the hairs of nostrils and wraps around them. Peering into the pot, Michael can see the color bleeding red now. “If that’s my good pot, we’re fighting,” Michael reprimands.

“You think I would create a healing potion in your good pot? Do you not know who I am?”

There’s a distinct lack of Kyle, Michael notes as he leans into the kitchen counter. “You scare the kid off?”

“Ate and then went back to sleep.”

“So you’re just terrorizing everyone in my house. I see how it is.”

Sylvie laughs, using a wooden spoon to stir the bubbling pot. It’s only been a week. Well, not even a full seven days. They haven’t really talked about what happened. But Michael knows it’s hard on her. She’s up late most nights. He knows because he’s up too and can hear her rummaging around in the room next to his. She’s up early too. She’s healing just fine physically, minus the ribs that’s bruised. That’s proven harder for her. Her lack of sleep tells Michael something else lingers. She’s not as okay as she tries to front.

Michael watches the way her fingers rub at the clear quartz around her neck. “Let me take over?”

She shakes her head. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be okay right now, you know? They call it healing for a reason.”

He wants to ask her about the hospital. If she remembers what she said. If they can really talk things through. But for the moment, Michael will settle for gently taking the spoon from her grasps. As she protests, he drowns her out with his own gibberish, the way mother’s reprimand children. They’ll always bicker and pick with each other. But if they didn’t love each other, there would be no reason for it.

Now Sylvie takes the post against the marble counter. It’s silent as the bubble continues on with this deep gurgle for a moment or two. “My almost last words with you shouldn’t have been in anger. I’m sorry.”

“But they weren’t. And I shouldn’t have tried to coerce you.” He could justify it. Just like he knows she could’ve justified her actions. It doesn’t matter now. It all simply does not matter now.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Just as long as it’s not tax information.”

She lightly taps his bicep with a snort. “Seriously.”

Michael purses his lips. “I am being serious. You can ask me whatever, just as long as it’s not tax related.”

“Why did you come to that meeting? Why didn’t you just not show up?”

“It was my last shot at being both,” Michael admits. “I had chosen the band once over you guys. I thought maybe then, I could have both. Get you out safely and not feel so ashamed anymore.”

“You chose what was right for you, Michael. That’s all.”

“You’ll always wonder what if, ya know? I always wondered what would’ve life been like if I hadn’t chosen the band. What would life look like as a leader of a coven?”

Sylvie nods. It makes sense. When faced with a fork in the road, the other side will always haunt. There will still be questions about what’s in store if one thing is different, if there’s one choice that’s different. “I’m glad you showed up.”

Like a projector playing, when she closes her eyes, she can see the floor of the forest littered with bodies. The sight doesn’t take her breath like usual, but it still hurts. “I talked to Kyle. I think someone in Council, if not the whole Council, was corrupt. He said once I left to talk to you, they waited. But no one else showed up. And then bodies just started dropping. He hadn’t finished his training. We offered for him to not join us; it wouldn’t reflect poorly on him. But he came with us. Joslene was doing her best to keep him safe and keep Hunters at bay. By the time I joined the fight, there were slim chances really.”

“You’ve somehow always defied the odds.” Michael finds the ladle and a mug. The liquid sloshes a little as it runs down the innards of the cup. He holds it out so she can take it by the handle.

“Just a small thing called magic,” she grins before taking the first sip. It’s never tasted great, always a hair too bitter for her taste buds, but she shivers and gets the sip down.

“Did Joslene tell you to take Kyle and go?”

With a nod, she goes in for a second sip. “Seems like you remember Joslene well.”

He shrugs. “No, just seems like the most obvious thing to do. I have an experienced fighter and someone I know will do whatever possible to protect. I’m going to send my most vulnerable to them.”

“You learned a thing or two from, Tyler.”

“I did actually pay attention. I just pretended I didn’t.”

There’s another slurping sip, attempting to keep the heat from searing her tongue so much. “I didn’t think we’d find you, to be honest. I wasn’t completely sure what direction of the interstate you’d use up and east, or down the coast. I kind of just picked the one my gut feeling was the strongest on.”

“Maybe you didn’t need the aventurine.”

Her laugh is soft and a little sad. “No, I needed it. I needed all the luck that was out there.”

Neither one of them mention that she and Kyle are the only survivors. They don’t mention that life is literally upside down from now on. They don’t worry about finding a job or housing or what it means for their safety—if they will have to always be looking over their shoulders. Right now, those things are small. Those are worries for later.

Sylvie knows the cup is shaking in her grasps when a little of the red liquid splashes onto the floor. Michael’s quick to take the cup from her. “Hey, I got you. I’m here, I promise.” She tucks into his chest, arms winding around his torso. Her tears are hot on his skin. He’s sure if Kyle was in a sort of sleep state, he is not now. Michael is careful as he hugs her into return, not wanting to aggravate that rib. His palms run soothingly up and down her back. She shakes, like leaves battered in a relentless wind.

Grief is heavy. But it is heavy and necessary. Michael hums against her. “Let it all out. I got you.”

#michael clifford #michael clifford fanfic #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford one-shot #witch!au #witch!michael #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos one-shot #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #h writes #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin

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avatar-fanzine · 6 years ago

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🎉 LEGENDS OF AVATAR RELEASE!!! 🎉

This zine is a collection of illustrations made by talented fans based on the characters from the TV show Avatar, The Last Airbender and it’s sequel The Legend of Korra, created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko.

The zine is available from now till (fecha de acabao)! We ask you to please share this post with your friends and visit the link to our Kickstarter!

CONTRIBUTORS

ALEX SIPLE

CAPTAIN AMYK (Organizer)

EMMA

GAABOVIC

GABRIELA BOSCO

ITSSCROW

ROITSSOMETHING

SIALIA NEUS

SOU ORTIZ

ALEJANDRO TEJERA

BELLA

BRENA DQ

ESENZE

KAMOMEUS (Organizer)

KOGASAURUS

LADY OF IRIS

LEONIDAS

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MIUS

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ROXE

TRINITY

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#avatar #legends of avatar #legends of avatar fanzine #the last airbender #the legend of korra

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woodshorenews · 5 years ago

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upon waking up on valentine’s day morning, many residents will be excited to find a glass vase ( or perhaps, even, more than one ) left outside the door to their room containing freshly cut, fully bloomed red roses. miraculously, it seems like not a single one has a thorn on its stem. some of these flowers come attached with a note and name, while other senders have chosen for the thrill of remaining anonymous. the arrangement would look beautiful on your kitchen counter, don’t you agree?

did you get one? keep reading to find out...

ANONYMOUS RECIPIENTS.

Aiya Ren – 1 ' ;) '

Aiya Ren – 1

Alek’ha Arand – 1

Anakin Skywalker – 1

Anakin Skywalker – 1 – for making me remember

Anastasia Romanov – 1

Andromeda Tonks – 1

Anduin Wrynn – 6

Anna Minkova – 3

April Kepner – 12

Arya Stark – 1

Bellamy Blake – 7 – 'for all the times i've wanted to punch you in the face'

Bellatrix Black – 1

Ben Solo – 1

Ben Solo – 3

Brienne of Tarth – 1

Buzz Lightyear – 12

Caleb Widogast – 1 – i hope you remember soon. i miss you.

Clark Kent – you know i’m terrible at words, but thank you. i remember what matters because of you. – 12

Daenerys Targaryen – 12

Daenerys Targaryen – 3

Daphne Greengrass – 1

Dean Winchester – B====D – 1

Derek Morgan – 6 – from your pretty boy

Evelyn O’Connell – 3

Faith Lehane – 1

Four (Tobias Eaton) – 1 – You're something I never expected and it both frightens me and excites me.

Georgie Weaver – 1

Irene Adler – 1

Han Solo – 1

Harry Hook – 1 – don't get cocky

Harry Hook – 1

Hayley Marshall – 1

Hayley Marshall – 6 – happy valentines day. hope we can talk again soon.

Henry Mills – 1 – "Surprised?"

Hermione Granger – 1

Hope Mikaelson – 1

Jessica Moore – 1

Jester Lavorre – 1

James T Kirk – i’ll let you guess who this is from. – 1

Jon Snow – 1

Jon Snow – 12

Jyscar Ren – 1

Klaus Mikaelson – 1

Laszlo Kreizler – 1

Laszlo Kreizler – 1 – thank you for being as you are.

Leia Organa-Solo – 12 – 🐾

Leia Organa-Solo – 6

Lucifer Morningstar – 1 – cool name.

Lucifer Morningstar – 12 – ;-P

Lucifer Morningstar – 1 – you don’t need more than one rose to know how much i care about you.

Luke Skywalker – 1 – for keeping my memory alive

Lyanna Stark – 1

Maleficent - 1

Marinette Dupain-Cheng – 1 – Daredevil

Matthew Murdock – 3

Mandalorian – 1

Merlin – 1

Mike Warren - 1

Miles Morales – 1

Narcissa Malfoy – 1

Nick Scratch – 1

Nyota Uhura – 1

Olivia Parker – 1

Phyrra Amakiir – 1

Regulus Black – 1

Remus Lupin – 1

Remus Lupin – 12

Rey – 1 – for a fellow scavenger.

Rhaella Targaryen – 6

Sam Winchester – 3

Sansa Stark – 1

Sharon Carter – 1

Sirius Black – 1

Sirius Black – 12

Snow White – 12 – ;)

Steve Harrington – 1

Thor Odinson – 1

Thor Odinson – 6

Tony Stark – 1

Will Solace –1

Woody – 6

Wynnona Earp – 6 – 'beautiful but deadly sums you up'

Wynonna Earp – 1

Wynonna Earp – 1 – cool name

Zaeda Z'shysa – 12

Zaeda Z’shysa – 1

KNOWN ADMIRERS.

Aang – 1 – Suki

Ahsoka Tano – 1 – Obi-wan Kenobi

Ahsoka Tano – 1 – Stephen Strange

Ahsoka Tano – 1 – You’re a sight for sore eyes! – Padmé Naberrie

Aiya Ren – 12 – i love your perfume, what is that? the stench of death? – Harley Quinn

Alice Kingsleigh – 12 – Through all the craziness and mayhem, you've always been there. I could never thank you enough. – Harry Osborn

Anakin Skywalker – 1 – Wynonna Earp

Anastasia Romanov – 1 – Clarke Griffin

Andromeda Tonks – 12 – "For the woman of my dreams" – Ted Tonks

Anduin Wrynn – 1 – Dana Scully

Andy Trudeau – 1 – don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite. Thank you for the lovely chat, inspector. – Astoria Malfoy

Andy Trudeau – 4 – Thank you for always having my back. It's never taken lightly. Love Prue – Prue Halliwell

Anna Arendelle – 12 – happy Valentine’s Day, best friend! – Jasmine Badroulbadour

Anna Arendelle – 12 – For my sister and my best friend. I’m sorry for everything. I love you. – Elsa Arendelle

Anna Minkova – 5 – It doesn’t make up for the years I was gone. I’m sorry. – Wanda Maximoff

Annabeth Chase – 12 – love you, blondie. Thanks for putting up with me. – Piper McLean

Annabeth Chase – 1 – happy Valentine’s Day, little sister – Haven Barthelemy

Annabeth Chase – 12 – happy Valentine’s Day to the best big sister I could ever ask for. – Estelle Jackson-Blofis

Annabeth Chase – 12 – I love you, wise girl! We can finally celebrate Valentine's day without any monsters interrupting us for once. – Percy Jackson

Anne Shirley – 3 – you are a princess in every sense. – Ella

Annie Marks – 12 – have you considered ponytails? we could start a club! – Harley Quinn

April Kepner – 3 – Happy Valentine's Day, April! – Nancy Wheeler

April Kepner – 1 – Dana Scully

April Kepner – 2 – One for you and one for Harriet! – Rose Granger-Weasley

Arya Stark – 6 – Jon Snow

Arya Stark – 1 – Tony Stark

Astoria Greengrass – 1 – Welcome to the family! – love, Melinda Halliwell

Astoria Greengrass – 5 – I figured your boyfriend has you covered with flowers, but as your brother I wanted to get you some more.– Lukas Zapolya

Ava Diaz – 12 – Thank you for being the best mom to our twins, and the best wife and friend to me. I love you, mi amor. – Lorenzo Diaz

BB-8 – 1 – Rey

BB-8 – 12 – I love your face, friend! – D-O

BB-8 – 3 – Jyn

Beauregard Lionett – 12 – for my favorite expositor of the colbalt soul. – Jester

Bellamy Blake – 3 – Clarke Griffin

Bellamy Balke – 1 – Emori

Bellamy Blake - 1 - Happy Valentine's Day! - Hermione Granger

Ben Hanscom – 6 – Here’s to remembering this time around. For better or for worse. – Mike Hanlon

Ben Solo – 1 – i hope you have a good valentine's day! – Leia Organa

Beverly Marsh – 6 – If only you knew how good it was to see your face again. – Mike Hanlon

Bruce Wayne – 6 – To your memories. I’m sorry for the bad ones. – Clark Kent

Bruce Wane – 12 – kisses!!!! xoxoxo – Harley Quinn

Brydda llewellyn – 1 – from your secret admirer... happy Valentine’s Day, baby. – Kasey Monroe Sawyer

Bucky Barnes – 5 – I hope you’re having a good day! – Hermione Granger

Bucky Barnes – 3 – Before you say anything, I tried. – Steve Rogers

Buttercup – 12 – "I love you" – Westley

Caleb Widogast – 12 – for my favorite stinky wizard, even though you’re not stinky anymore – Jester

Cassian Andor – 3 – Leia Organa

Cassian Andor – 9 – thank you for being my guiding force – Jyn

Castiel – 12 – has anyone ever told you you look like you’re trying to pass gas all the time? – Harley Quinn

Catherine Alexander – 12 – I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most. I love you, little sister. – Haven Barthelemy

Chloe Decker – 12 – As usual, I am sorry. Come to Lux this evening so I can make it up to you. – Lucifer Morningstar

Chris Halliwell – 12 – I love you, Chris Halliwell. I always have and I always will. Happy Valentine’s Day! – Astoria Malfoy

Clarke Griffin – 2 – Regulus Black

Clarke Griffin – 12 – A reminder to grasp that chance at happiness. – Thor Odinson

Clio Celestia-Palpatine – 1 – Rey

Connor Murphy – 1 – 'love you bro' – John Murphy.

Connor Murphy – 12 – The son of Aphrodite being terrible at writing love notes, can you believe that? But I hope you enjoy the roses because a cutie like you deserves them all. – Lukas Zapolya

Cordé – 3 – Sabé

Cordé – 1 – Padmé Naberrie

Cordé – 12 – Thank you for taking care of Alex like he is your own, and just being his other mom. You were and still are the exact person we need in our lives and I'm glad to call you my girlfriend. Love you, sweetheart! – Narcissa Black

Daphne Greengrass – 12 – I love you, Daph. You’re the best big sister I could have ever asked for. – Astoria Malfoy

Dean Winchester – 6 – see you later ;) – Sharon Carter

Diana Prince – 3 – Bruce Wayne

Diana Prince – 6 – We wouldn’t be a team without you. – Clark Kent

Diana Prince – 12 – you’re deadly and beautiful. like a poisonous snake! – Harley Quinn

Dominique Weasley – 1 – happy valentine's day, cousin! – Roxanne "Rox" Weasley

Dominique Weasley – 1 – happy valentine’s, cuz! – Rose Granger-Weasley

Dorothea Wildes – 12 – I can have two valentines, right? – Georgina “Georgie” Weaver

Dorothea Wildes – 12 – Don’t tell Georgie. – Sirius Black

Dorothea Wildes – 6 – For a woman with taste. – Lestat de Lioncourt

Dorothea Wildes – 2 – Best professor ever. – Rose Granger-Weasley

Draco Malfoy – 1 – Rose Granger-Weasley

D-O – 1 – Rey

D-O – 3 – Jyn

Eleanor "Nell" Crain-Vance – 3 – Happy Valentine’s, Nell! – Nancy Wheeler

Eleanor “Nell” Crain-Vance – 1 – I carry your heart with me – Olivia Crain

Eleanor “Nell” Crain-Vance – 2 – I love you, Nellie. – Steve Crain

Eleanor “Nell” Crain-Vance – 1 – Sending you wishes of happiness. – Laszlo Kreizler

Eleanor “Nell” Crain-Vance – 12 – Let’s adopt that lizard. – Jim Halpert

Ella – 12 – Cherie. – Lestat de Lioncourt

Ella – 1 – To a life free of unkindness. – Laszlo Kreizler

Elsa Arendelle – 2 – "Sisters forever, love Anna" – Anna Arendelle

Emma Swan – 6 – Killian Jones

Emma Swan – 11 – Eleven roses for the eleven years it's been since I found you in Boston when I was ten. Love you, mom! – Henry Mills

Emori – 12 – 'for the future mrs murphy' – John Murphy

Emori – 3 – happy valentine’s day! – Anduin Wrynn

Enjolras – 12 – Grantaire

Eros – 12 – for the god of love and beauty on the day of love from a beauty! – Estelle Jackson-Blofis

Estelle Blofis – 3 – For my partner in crime. – Varian

Estelle Blofis – 5 – Happy Valentine's Day, Starshine! – Eros

Faith Lehane – 1 – to prove that i am very sweet and not scary. – Jester

Finn – 1 – Rey

Finn – 12 – Poe Dameron

Finn – 2 – Congratulations. Give one to Poe. – Mando

Finn – 12 – happy Valentine’s Day, sunshine! Thank you for always seeing the good in me. – Sonia Tate

Finn – 1 – Leia Organa

Finn – 12 – Congratulations, friend! – D-O

Frederick Frankenstein – 6 – for my favorite doctor, even though the traveler is a way better doctor because he’s the coolest – Jester

Flynn Rider – 12 – I love you so very much! – Rapunzel Corona

Genevieve “Genna” Fair – 12 – Thor Odinson

Genevieve “Genna” Fair – 1 – I hear sorcerers are especially sweey on Valentine’s Day. Just a thought. – Liv Starfleet

Genevieve “Genna” Fair – 1 – I’ll do my best not to step on your toes next time we dance. – Stephen Strange

Genevieve “Genna” Fair – for my doppleganger. – Ella

Georgina “Georgie” Hart – 12 – you make my tail wag! – Sirius Black

Geralt of Rivia – 1 – Get that DICK! 8====D – Wynonna Earp

Ginerva “Ginny” Weasley – 2 – You’re the coolest auntie ever. – Rose Granger-Weasley

Han Solo – 6 – Leia Organa

Harry Osborn – 12 – to my bestest friend and my partner in crime. Love you, darling! – Alice Kingsleigh

Harry Osborn – 12 – I will love you always – Peter Parker

Harry Potter – 2 – one from each of the dumbasses you look after. Thanks for keeping us alive, babes! – Estelle Jackson-Blofis

Harry Potter – 6 – Thinking about you! – Hermione Granger

Harry Potter – 2 – Not to scare you or anything, but you’re a bangin’ uncle. – Rose Granger-Weasley

Harley Quinn – 3 – Bruce Wayne

Harley Quinn – 1 – for my fellow chaos agent – Jester

Haven Barthelemy – 5 – I know these don't fit your aesthetic, but still I hope you enjoy them. – Henrik Mikaelson

Hayley Marshall – 1 – I would be remiss not to send you a rose the color of my now blood stained shirt. – Lucifer Morningstar

Helga Hufflepuff – 1 – Roxanne "Rox" Weasley

Helga Hufflepuff – 1 – Sirius Black

Hermione Granger – 6 – You’re the best mum. I love you! – Rose Granger-Weasley

Hope Swan-Jones – 12 – "Did I make you smile?" – Killian Jones

Hope Swan-Jones – 5 – For the sweetest little sister, I just actually met! I hope you like your flowers! – Henry Mills

Isobel Reinwood – 2 – Regulus Black

Isobel Reinwood – 12 – Thank you for making me a father, and just the happiest I've ever been in a while. Through the good and the bad, I'll always love you. – Sebastian Blackwood

Jack Frost – 2 – Thank you for always making me so happy, I can't not smile around you. – love, Hope Swan-Jones

Jack Frost – 1 – Royal Dupuis

Jack Skellington – 3 – from your dearest friend. I love you, jack. – Sally

Jaskier – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Jaskier – 1 – I owe you this. Meet me by the shore. – Geralt of Rivia

Jasmine Badroulbadour – 1 – "To my best friend, love Anna" – Anna Arendelle

Jasmine Badroulbadour – 12 – I've never been the best with words, but I love you more than anything in this world. – Varian

Jennifer Jareau – 10 – thank you for showing up – Spencer Reid

Jessica Jones – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Jessica Jones – 1 – I told them to pick the least romantic. – Matt Murdock

Jessica Jones – 3 – for a fellow archivist – Karen

Jessica Jones – 12 – you look like you’ve never smiled a day in your life, so: knock knock – Harley Quinn

Jester Lavorre – 12 – happy valentines day, valentine! xoxoxo – Mollymauk Tealeaf

Jester Lavorre – 1 – happy valentine’s day! – Rapunzel

Jester Lavorre – 12 – you’re cooler than the traveler – Sirius Black

Jester Lavorre – 1 – Your new look is rather horny. – Lucifer Morningstar

Jester Lavorre – 5 – i hope these find you well. frumpkin sends his love as well. happy valentines day. – Caleb Widogast

Jester Lavorre – 12 – welcome to earth, we love aliens! – Harley Quinn

Jim Halpert – 5 – Eleanor Crain Vance

Jo Wilson – 2 – April Kepner

Joey Potter – 12 – It was good to see you again after all this time Jo. Happy Valentines Day. x Pace - Pacey Witter

John Murphy – 6 – Emori

Jon Snow – 5 – I’ll always be on your side, Jon Snow. – Daenerys Targaryen

Jon Snow – 3 – You’re my favorite person. – Arya Stark

Jyn Erso – 1 – thank you for being there. – Cassian Andor

Jyn Erso – 1 – Leia Organa

Karen Page – 1 – Sharon Carter

Karen Page – 1 – I missed your voice. – Matt Murdock

Kaz Brekker – 12 – you look like the kinda guy who really puts the ‘fun’ in ‘funeral’! – Harley Quinn

Kiarace – 1 – Anduin Wrynn

Korra – 3 – Thank you. – Elsa Arendelle

Lara Croft – 3 – Happy Valentine’s, Lara! – Nancy Wheeler

Lara Croft – 6 – for giving a damn. – Max Rockatansky

Leia Organa-Solo – 1 – Rey

Leia Organa-Solo – 1 – I love you. – Ben Solo

Leia Organa-Solo – 1 – Not even my dreams for the future could have captured everything you’ve become. I love you. – Padmé Naberrie

Leia Organa-Solo – 1 – here’s to many more years together again. – Jyn

Leonard “Bones” McCoy – 12 – thanks for not sticking a needle in me for the last 12 hours – James “Jim” Kirk

Leonard Snart – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Lestat de Lioncourt – 12 – i cannot fit all the reasons why i adore you on a note, monseuir. – Ella

Lexie Grey – 2 – April Kepner

Lexie Grey – 2 – I’ve heard so many stories I feel like I know you. Happy Valentine’s! – Mike Hanlon

Liv Starfleet – 12 – I love you so very dearly. – Loki Odinson

Liv Starfleet – 1 – Have a good Valentine’s day! – Genevieve "Genna" Fair

Loki Odinson – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Loki Odinson – 12 – please send anonymously – Thor Odinson

Loki Odinson – 4 – Is that magic in the air, or are you just happy to see me? – Liv Starfleet

Lorenzo Diaz – 10 – for every year we were together, for every year we were apart, and one for every person I left behind. – Ava Diaz

Lucifer Morningstar – 8 – One for every inch ;P – Wynonna Earp

Lucifer Morningstar – 6 – proof that i am very sweet even if i do make fun of you sometimes – Jester

Lukas Zapolya – 12 – missed you, brother! Thank you for always being their for me. – Piper McLean

Lukas Zapolya – 12 – thanks for being stupid with me, lover boy. – Estelle Jackson-Blofis

Luke Castellan – 1 – 'happy v day, asshole' – Faith Lehane.

Luke Castellan – 6 – for every year I wasn’t there. I’m sorry, little brother. You’re stronger than I ever was. – Haven Barthelemy

Luke Crain – 1 – I carry your heart with me – Olivia Crain

Luke Crain – 1 – Eleanor Crain Vance

Luke Crain – 1 – Steve Crain

Luke Skywalker – 6 – Leia Organa

Luke Skywalker – 1 – I’m so proud of you, and I hope I soon find the courage to tell you personally. – Padmé Naberrie

Lyanna Stark – 1 – Tony Stark

Mal Florian – 12 – For each year i've loved you and more – Ben Florian

Mal Florian – 12 – Did I mention that I love you and always will. – Ben Florian

Malcolm Bright – 6 – i hope you have a great valentine’s day! – Anna Minkova

Mando – 12 – You'll always have a place in my heart. – Finn

Mare Barrow – 12 – don’t be afraid of the lightning that comes from inside you – Thor Odinson

Maria Stark – 6 – Tony Stark

Marinette Dupain-Cheng – 1 – From one hero to another. – Clark Kent

Matthew Murdock – 6 – Karen Page

Max Rockatansky – 3 – 'a reminder that earth is beautiful' – Lara Croft

Max Rockatansky – 1 – happy valentine’s day! – Leia Organa

Melinda Halliwell – 2 – one for you and one for our darling nephew! – Astoria Malfoy

Merlin – 3 – to my favorite magician. – Ella

Mike Hanlon – 12 – April Kepner

Mike Warren – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Mike Warren – 1 – happy v-day, man – Jim Halpert

Millie Harcourt – 12 – what would I do without you? – Mike Warren

Minerva McGonagall – 12 – Thank you for always believing in me, professor. I’m sorry I was never as strong as you thought i was. – Emma Vanity

Minerva McGonagall – 3 – happy valentine’s day, professor! – Hermoine Granger

Minerva McGonagall – 1 – happy v-day, mcgonagall!! – Georgina “Georgie” Weaver

Minerva McGonagall – 1 – Dorothea Wildes

Mollymauk Tealeaf – 5 – i know my memory isn't much, but i felt like i should still send you something for today. i hope your day is well. happy valentines day.– Caleb Widogast

Mollymauk Tealeaf – 12 – for my favorite tarot card reader. – Jester Lavorre

Montgomery “Scotty” Scott – 12 – fix my ship. – James “Jim” Kirk

Montgomery “Scotty” Scott – 3 – add some rose to your teas, it tastes delicious. – Ella

Naivara Galanodel – 3 – Rapunzel Corona

Nancy Wheeler – 1 – Lara Croft

Nancy Wheeler – 12 – Thor Odinson

Narcissa Malfoy – 12 – the love of my life, the mother of our son, my reason for coming back. Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful! – Cordé

Natasha Romanoff – 3 – Thinking about you for Valentine’s day. – Steve Rogers

Natasha Romanoff – 1 – have a good valentine’s, romanoff. – Tony Stark

Natasha Romanoff – 1 – they said to keep this short, but remember italy and that forged painting? – Sharon Carter

Nick Scratch – 12 – I know things are a little complicated right now, but know that I love you. – Harvey Kinkle

Nyota Uhura – 12 – no one speaks klingon like you, but please don’t yell at me in it anymore. – James “Jim” Kirk

Obi-wan Kenobi – 1 – Rey

Obi-wan Kenobi – 1 – You have the kindest smile in the universe. – Padmé Naberrie

Obi-wan Kenobi – 1 – you are the force and the force is with you. trust it. – Jyn Erso

Octavia Blake – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Olivia Crain – 1 – Eleanor Crain Vance

Olivia Crain – 1 – Steve Crain

Olivia Crain – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Padmé Naberrie – 1 – Rey

Padmé Naberrie – 1 – Happy Valentine’s, Padmé – Sabé Andierre

Padmé Naberrie – 6 – happy valentine’s, padmé! – Obi-Wan Kenobi

Padmé Naberrie – 3 – reaching towards a better tomorrow – Jyn

Percy Jackson – 2 – two peas in a pod, water boy – Piper McLean

Percy Jackson – 1 – I love you, big brother. – Estelle Jackson-Blofis

Percy Jackson – 1 – You're my something permanent, seaweed brain - love, Annabeth Chase,

Persephone – 12 – i love you – Hades

Peter Parker – 2 – thanks for putting up with me, petey! Glad to have you back. – Estelle Jackson-Blofis

Peter Parker – 12 – I couldn't image my life without you. It's always been you, Pete. – Harry Osborn

Peter Parker – 12 – enjoy the day of love, spiderling! – Thor Odinson

Phyrra Amakiir – 1 – Sharon Carter

Phyrra Amakiir – 1 – Have a magical day! – Snow White

Pietro Maximoff – 3 – Anna Minkova

Pietro Maximoff – 12 – Thor Odinson

Pietro Maximoff – 12 – for every minute between us. – Wanda Maximoff

Piper McLean – 1 – A beautiful rose for a beautiful girl - love, Annabeth Chase

Poe Dameron – 1 – Rey

Poe Dameron – 1 – Leia Organa

Poe Dameron – 12 – For my future husband, the absolute love of my life. – Finn

Poe Dameron – 12 – Congratulations, friend! – D-O

Poe Dameron – 1 – thank you. – Jyn

Prue Halliwell – 1 – thank you for giving the family I never had – Astoria Malfoy

Prue Halliwell – 1 – Andy Trudeau

Rapunzel Corona – 12 – will you m... just kidding. not yet. – Flynn Rider

Rapunzel Corona – 6 – Elsa Arendelle

Rapunzel Corona – 3 – You're the best friend I've ever had. Thank you for accepting me as I am. – Varian

Rapunzel Corona – 3 – have a day as beautiful as you. – Ella

Rebekah Mikaelson – 5 – Have a wonderful Valentine's Day, Sister. – Henrik Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson – 12 – remember, barbie: boys stink! – Harley Quinn

Red – 1 – Sam Winchester

Red – 1 – Steve Crain

Regina Mills – 12 – happy valentine's day, i love you! – Tony Stark

Regina Mills– 12 – Roses as red as the apples from your apple tree. I wish I can give you twenty one as that's how long it's been since we first met when I was a baby, but twelve would have to do. Love you, mom! – Henry Mills

Remus Lupin – 3 – Georgina "Georgie" Weaver

Rey – 1 – i hope you have a good valentine's day! – Leia Organa

Rey – 1 – Obi-wan Kenobi

Rey – 2 – Ben Solo

Rey – 12 – You are the best friend! – D-O

Rey – 1 – I’m so glad I can be a part of your life. – Padmé Naberrie

Rey – 12 – Thank you for seeing me like no one ever has. – Finn

Rey – 5 – here’s to new friendships – Jyn

Rhaegar Targaryen – 5 – Daenerys Targaryen

Rose Granger-Weasley – 12 – roses for my rose <3 – Royal Dupuis

Rose Granger-Weasley – 5 – i hope you have an amazing valentine’s day! – Anduin Wrynn

Rose Granger-Weasley – 6 – Happy Valentine’s day, love! – Hermione Granger

Rose Granger-Weasley – 1 – happy v-day, cousin! – Roxanne “Rox” Weasley

Roxanne “Rox” Weasley – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Roxanne “Rox” Weasley – 3 – happy valentine’s day, rox! next time i go off a cliff i’m taking you with me. – Rose Granger-Weasley

Royal Dupuis – 12 – You always know how to make me smile. – Rose Granger-Weasley

Sabé Andierre – 12 – You have a nice laugh but I’m bad at telling jokes on paper, so hopefully this at least gets a smile. – James “Jim” Kirk

Sabé Andierre – 1 – Padmé Naberrie

Salazar Slytherin – 2 – from the twins – Isobel Reinwood

Salazar Slytherin – 1 – "Thanks for everything" - Anne Shirley Cuthbert

Salazar Slytherin – 12 – "I cannot wait to spend the rest of our lives together" - Helga Hufflepuff

Sam Winchester – 3 – happy valentine’s day! – Sharon Carter

Sansa Stark – 6 – Jon Snow

Sansa Stark – 1 – Tony Stark

Sebastian Blackwood – 3 – one from each of the people who love you the most. Happy valentine’s, darling! – Isobel Reinwood

Sherlock Holmes – 1 – Cheers! – Lucifer Morningstar

Sherlock Holmes – 1 – Don’t forget to celebrate. – Laszlo Kreizler

Sirius Black – 6 – sorry for painting a dick on your door, next time i’ll choose a more tasteful place ;) – Jester

Sonia Tate – 12 – To my absolute best friend, and platonic soulmate. – Finn

Spencer Reid – 1 – Malcolm Bright

Spencer Reid – 6 – i hope you have a happy valentine’s day! – Ella

Spencer Reid – 12 – it’s nice to see a fellow freak with a phd! – Harley Quinn

Spock – 12 – happy valentine’s day, you pointy-eared bastard. – James “Jim” Kirk

Stephen Strange – 1 – happy valentine’s day! would you be mine? :) – Genevieve "Genna" Fair

Steve Rogers – 3 – I’m glad we got you out of that ice. – Natasha Romanoff

Steve Rogers – 12 – I’m glad you kept the beard! – Thor Odinson

Steve Rogers – 1 – For believing in me. – Wanda Maximoff

Steve Rogers – 1 – You’re a terrible flirt. – Bucky Barnes

Steven Crain – 1 – I carry your heart with me – Olivia Crain

Steven Crain – 1 – Eleanor Crain Vance

Suki – 6 – happy valentines day! thought you'd like something :) – Aang

Thalia Grace – 1 – Wynonna Earp

Thalia Grace – 1 – I'm so grateful to have you as a best friend/sister - love, Annabeth Chase

Thor Odinson – 6 – I hope you have a good Valentine’s Day! – Nancy Wheeler

Thor Odinson – 1 – Clarke Griffin

Thor Odinson – 1 – happy valentine’s to the strongest avenger! – Genevieve “Genna” Fair

Tinkerbell – 12 – I just have a question, would you like to be my girlfriend?– Wendy Darling

Tommy Shepherd – 1 – I hope I can be the mother you deserve. – Wanda Maximoff

Tony Stark – 6 – Thank you for being mine. – Regina Mills

Tony Stark – 1 – Get over it. – Natasha Romanoff

Tony Stark – 12 – Thor Odinson

Valis – 12 – happy Valentine’s Day, darling. I love you, my deliciously beautiful wife. – Damaia

Varian – 12 – happy Valentine’s Day, baby! You make me so happy, and I fall in love with you more and more each day – Jasmine Badroulbadour

Varian – 2 – guess who’s partner in crime is back? – Estelle jackson-Blofis

Varian – 1 – smile, kid! – Flynn Ryder

Varian – 1 – happy valentine’s day, varian! – Rapunzel Corona

Veronica Lodge – 1 – Royal Dupuis

Vex’ahlia de Rolo – 2 – one rose for you and one for trinket! – Jester

Wanda Maximova – 3 – Happy Valentine’s day! – Anna Minkova

Wanda Maximova – 1 – I hope you have a good Valentine’s Day, Wanda. – Steve Rogers

Wendy Darling – 12 – you’re it. You’re my dearest thing. My darling little Wendy bird. I love you. – Tinkerbell

Wes – 1 – Royal Dupuis

Westley – 1 – farm boy... love me, will you? – Buttercup

Will Byers – 1 – Roxanne "Rox" Weasley

Wyatt Halliwell – 6 – You deserve more. For what it’s worth, you’re still my friend. No matter what. - Astoria Malfoy

Wyatt Halliwell – 12 – "I know I fucked up" – Newt Glade

Wynonna Earp – 2 – One for the day you penetrated me, and one for the day I penetrated you. – Lucifer Morningstar

Wynonna Earp – 12 – coolest. gun. ever! – Harley Quinn

Zuko – 1 – Suki

Zuko – 6 – i hope you're doing better. i miss you and am here if you need to talk. happy valentines day. – Aang

#woodshore: news

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ask-andante · 8 years ago

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#nap time #same tho #ask #ic #river #celebi #pokemon #ask-alex-and-rox #queuedante #info

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jothriku · 6 years ago

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alex.... alex.... tell me more about the dancer au. more soriku?? more roxas?? more vanitas?? pls??? i am Very into this it's so good ;u;

hghjdffii WELL

sora loves ballet, even tho he decided not to pursue it with his brother & riku. vanitas & aqua might be the best ballet dancers sora knows, but riku is the most beautiful in sora’s opinion. like...i imagine sora realizes he’s in love with riku at one of riku’s recitals...sora’s in the crowd, grinning to himself and as he’s watching riku on the stage, he thinks ‘i could be happy just watching riku dance for the rest of my life’ and then his grin drops & his face TURNS SO RED and he mutters a tiny ‘oh’ under his breath. when sora, kairi, & ven meet up with riku, vani, & naminé after the show, sora is a stuttering mess BC HE KNOWS NOW. riku asks sora if he liked the show and sora only just barely stops himself from blurting out ‘ILOVEYOU!’ instead of ‘ILOVEDIT!’

roxas, i imagine, was probably reluctant to try out gymnastics. it doesn’t really seem like something that’d be his style at first glance, but rox & xion both bond with lea really quickly and he starts to find it almost as fun as skateboarding! xion competes at a national level, but roxas doesn’t really care too much about that and instead just tries to have fun and enjoy himself (he’s still really fucking good tho!). roxas will never admit it, but more often than not his whole family & a number of his friends will show up to cheer him on at competitions and he appreciates it (even when riku shows up lol). the better he performs, the more obnoxious they get and he’s really fond of it hfghjgf

vanitas is just old enough and good enough to already be getting offers to join different ballet companies, but he’s not sure what he wants to do. especially since aqua has already left and joined a ballet company herself. for the longest time, even tho he’s good at ballet and likes it, it seemed to him like he was just doing it bc it’s what everyone expected of him. this is the type of stuff he talks to riku about. he feels like none of his other siblings would really understand, especially not ven. in fact, vanitas is often jealous of his twin bc he perceives him as having so much freedom. riku asks vani ‘would you be happy without dancing in your life?’ and vani can’t answer right away. in fact, he takes a really long time to understand what his answer to that is.

ANYWAYS IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR SOME PPL LIKE THIS AU BC!!! IT’S REALLY JUST THE MOST SELF INDULGENT THING EVER AND IT ALL STARTED WITH THOSE CONCEPT ARTS OF RIKU’S FIGHTING STYLE LOL

#kh #asks #anons #dancer au #soriku #i should really draw something for this sometime soon #Anonymous

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themeowthmafia-blog · 8 years ago

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| @askashinysewaddle |

Cameos!

| @ask-alex-and-rox | @ask-mirai-and-friends | @ryancorrsin |

#askashinysewaddle #ask-alex-and-rox #ask-mirai-and-friends #ryancorrsin #smiley #curly #Fruit Salad #local mom is tries to teach his son ways to have fun other than homicide #the result may shock you #the snowmon will remain unfinished tho #:'(#Fruit is SO CUTE THO I had tons of fun drawing him #PokeWinterBall2016 #meowthmafia #meowfia

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asklittlemew · 8 years ago

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Ryuu:*see the blue baby mew and happly flys over to him* hia! wamma pway? *is still too young to speck properly*

Nam: "Pway!? Nam pway!!!" (They would love to play!)

#answered #ask-alex-and-rox #these responses would be so much cuter if they were drawn #rip this no wifi life

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setepenre-set · 7 years ago

Text

One Bad Picture In an Unflattering Dress

Megamind/Roxanne

pre-movie AU.

The only thing more exasperating for Roxanne than the ridiculous rumor that she’s pregnant is the fact that everyone is arguing over whether her nonexistent baby’s father is Metro Man or Megamind.

AO3 | FFN

“Megamind! Megamind—”

“Metro Man—”

“Roxanne—”

“Get out of my face!” Roxanne snapped.

Roxanne, hemmed in with Metro Man and Megamind by the crowd of reporters on the courthouse steps, shoved the nearest camera out of her personal space. This! This was why people hated the media! If these people didn’t back off soon, she was going to explode.

And she wasn’t the only one—Megamind was practically vibrating with tension; he looked as if Wayne’s restraining grip on his arm was the only thing stopping him from trying to strangle someone with the chain of the handcuffs he was wearing. Even Wayne’s heroic composure starting to look a little strained around the edges.

“Metro Man—Metro Man!”

“Please, citizens!” Wayne said. “I’ve got an arrest to complete; step aside and let us get—”

“Roxanne!” Bradley from channel nine gestured to his cameraman to push closer to Roxanne again, “Roxanne can you comment—

“—you shove that camera in my face one more time, Alex,” Roxanne growled to Brad’s cameraman, “and I’m gonna shove it down your throat.”

Alex quailed visibly, but Brad was undeterred, and gestured impatiently for him to bring the camera in again.

“The people have a right to know, Roxy!” Brad said.

“Metro Man!”

“Megamind! Megamind, are you the father?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Megamind’s voice was an octave higher than normal, the whites showing all around his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Get away from me! Get back; you savages!”

“I’m not pregnant!” Roxanne said.

“Metro Man, are the rumors about the identity of the baby’s father straining your relationship with Rox—”

“For god’s sake!” Roxanne said, entirely out of patience with this whole ridiculous situation. “You people! One bad picture in an unflattering dress and suddenly everyone thinks—”

“Metro Man—”

“Roxanne—”

“Megamind—”

“Metro Man, are you going to insist on a paternity test?”

“Are you going to get married before the baby is—”

Wayne jumped, the light of panic suddenly in his eyes.

“It’s not mine!” he said, “I’m not marrying her! I’m not getting married!”

“What?” Megamind sounded outraged.

“I’m not fucking pregnant!” Roxanne said, raising her voice.

“We’re not even dating!” Wayne said, still looking panicked.

“Was Roxanne’s cheating the cause of the breakup?”

“How dare you—” Megamind hissed.

“I don’t cheat on people,” Roxanne snarled at Brad.

“It was an amicable breakup!” Wayne said desperately.

“Amicable—?” Roxanne stared at him.

Oh, come on; Wayne could not be going to pieces on her now! He was a superhero! Where was his spine?!

“Amicable!” Wayne, that absolute jelly of a so-called hero, said, “Mutual agreement! Better off as friends! Better for everyone!”

“No!” Roxanne said, “No; no; no! It—we were never dating in the first damn place, Wayne; don’t say—”

“Metro Man, how do you feel about Roxanne leaving you for Megamind?”

“That’s not what happened!” Megamind said, looking frantic. “That’s not what happened!”

“No hard feelings at all!” Wayne said. “I’m sure they’ll be very happy!”

“What?!” Megamind and Roxanne said in shocked unison.

“Always knew those two crazy kids would get together sooner or later!” Wayne said over top of them.

“Al—wha—” Megamind said.

“We’re not together!” Roxanne said.

Someone shoved a microphone in her face.

“Roxanne, will Megamind be involved in raising your child?”

“I’m not pregnant!”

“I’m not even genetically similar enough to reproduce with humans!” Megamind wailed. “The chromosomes are wrong! It’s physically impossible!”

“ALSO, WE’VE NEVER HAD SEX!”

“Also that!” Megamind said, gesturing wildly at Roxanne with his handcuffed hands. “That! Physically impossible also because of that!”

“Are you sure?” Brad asked. He gestured at Alex to bring the camera in close again.

“Am I sure of what?” Roxanne snapped.

“Genetic manipulation, artificial insemination,” Bradley said smoothly, “besides—”

“Besides what?” Roxanne snapped.

“Well,” Brad said, “Isn’t it true that on regular occasions, you’ve been unconscious and he’s been—”

Megamind jerked in Wayne’s grip as if he’d been struck.

Roxanne went very still, perfectly still.

(camera flashbulbs going off like fireworks around them)

“You really,” she said, voice cold, “do not want to finish that sentence.”

“Oh, come on, Roxy,” Brad said jeeringly, “you can’t really be that naive—all those times he had you knocked out and alone; you really think he never—”

Roxanne punched him.

Her fist connected with his face with a satisfyingly solid sound. Roxanne barely felt the pain burst in her hand as Brad fell heavily onto the courthouse steps. He lay there, clutching his face and making a kind of wet, bubbling noise.

Megamind made a soft sound, and Roxanne glanced over at him and—

His expression went through her like a bolt of lightning; everything around Roxanne, around the two of them, seemed to go silent and still for that moment as if—

“Oh my!” Wayne said loudly, and the world came rushing back in. “What a regrettable accident!”

The crowd surged around them, snapping pictures, filming, shouting out questions, shouting her name.

“She hit me! She hit me!”

“Fuck you!” Roxanne shouted.

Wayne grabbed her arm.

“It sure is crowded on these steps!” he said in his most Metro Man-ly voice as he retreated backwards up the staircase, Roxanne and Megamind firmly in tow. “So crowded!”

“My nose!”

“I hope I fucking broke it!” Roxanne snarled, twisting in Wayne’s grip. “I hope I knocked out your goddamn teeth!”

“—very crowded,” Wayne said. “—so easy to bump into each other. Accidentally. Come on Roxy, I think he’s had enough—”

“Megamind! Megamind, what do you—”

“Roxanne! Roxanne, do you—”

“Metro Man—”

Wayne’s back hit the courthouse doors. The crowd drew in even closer, their voices loud and demanding, cameras flashing, microphones pushing forward. Roxanne stopped fighting against Wayne’s grip and glared at them all.

Megamind made a quiet sound.

Roxanne glanced past Wayne to look at him. Megamind was staring at her, still, with that same expression of—worshipful shock.

“You—you hit him—” he said.

“He shouldn’t have fucking said that about you,” Roxanne fiercely, without thinking.

Megamind made a soft, choked sound. He looked—

—he looked—

“Wow!” Wayne said loudly.

Roxanne jumped, tearing her eyes away from Megamind to look at Wayne.

Who was glancing between her and Megamind with an expression of strangely calculating glee; why was he—

“Wow!” Wayne said again, and changed his grip on Roxanne and Megamind, throwing his arms over both of their shoulders. “This has been a real full day for all of us, folks!”

He tightened his grip on Megamind and Roxanne’s shoulders and playfully shook the two of them.

“You guys,” he said, beaming at the two of them. “Just the best.”

He turned his smile on the crowd.

“Well, I’m sure we’re all happy to hear—” Wayne said loudly, “—I’m sure we’re all happy to hear that my little buddy here will be retiring from villainy to focus on his relationship with Roxanne and his new responsibilities!”

“What—” Roxanne started to say.

“What—” Megamind began.

“So excited!” Wayne said, and clamped his hands over both of their mouths. “Beautiful couple! So happy for them!”

He gave the crowd his most blindingly heroic smile.

And then he dragged Roxanne and Megamind into the courthouse.

“How exactly,” Roxanne said, later, the three of them sitting together in her living room while Minion made pancakes in the kitchen, “is Megamind giving up villainy to focus on our nonexistent child going to work?”

“I didn’t say ‘responsibilities as a father’,” Wayne said, leaning back in her armchair smugly, “I said ‘relationship with Roxanne and new responsibilities’. How do you feel about trying superhero-ing for a change, buddy? That should cover the new responsibilities bit nicely! Don’t you think?”

“…did you fake a relationship between me and Megamind just so you could quit your job?” Roxanne asked.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Please, Roxy,” he said, “like I faked anything.”

“I—”

“—but Ro—Miss Ritchi and I,” Megamind said faintly, “we—we aren’t…”

Wayne snorted.

“Yeah, okay, buddy, because she totally didn’t punch that guy to defend your honor,” he said. “And you totally didn’t swoon. Jeez, you two; I swear.”

Megamind choked and went a color that was nearer to fuchsia than blue and became suddenly and extremely interested in the top of the coffee table.

“—Wayne,” Roxanne said, her eyes fixed on Megamind, watching the blush spread over the top of his head.

“Roxy?”

“Go help Minion with the pancakes.”

Wayne gave her a particularly smug grin.

“Yeah, okay, Roxy,” he said.

He was even more insufferably smug when, ten minutes later, he and Minion came into the living room with the pancakes and interrupted Roxanne and Megamind in a kiss.

#megamind #megamind/roxanne #metro man ships it #fanfiction #one bad picture in an unflattering dress

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whateveremy · 7 years ago

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To everyone who’s been part of my college life

It’s been days since the celebration of #UPLBSablay2018, and I just want to seize the hype of gratitude and joyous atmosphere by appreciating people who have been part of my journey in UPLB.

To my mama and papa, and tita Myra, thank you for attending to my needs may it be in the form of encouragement, money or service, I’m extremely grateful for your support just for me to finish my studies.

To my sisters, ate Dara, Winona, and Chiara, thank you for supporting me too whenever I ask for favor to do something or just being there to help.

To the staff and church of Victory Los Banos, Pastor Jon, Pastor Erle, Pastor Ernie, ate Cla, ate Abie, ate Jen, ate Nikki, Micah, Jessica, Gem, Doms, etc., thank you so much for investing in the next generation. I will truly cherish and keep in my heart all the things that God revealed to me through the efforts you’re doing in the campus ministry. I know God allowed me to be surrounded with such people so that I may grow in my relationship with Him. He has also given me the privilege to see firsthand what He’s doing in the kingdom by serving through the volunteer ministries. It’s there that I was trained and developed to have a servant heart yet be professional at the same time. Thank you so much.

To the volunteers of Communications ministry, Gem, Irah, Danica, Hannah, Rainier, Dom, Chin, Nikki, Fitz, Ian, kuya Jurey, I never knew such talented and creative people exist. Working with you guys has been one of my highlights in my stay in Los Banos, and I’m grateful for that. I’m happy to have friends that not only share the same interest as mine, but also create materials all for God’s glory.

To my small groupmates since I was a freshman until I graduate, Ate Eunice, Ate Janine, Kim A, Kim B., Annix, Danica Bendo, Faith, Jac, Jam, Kat, Anna, and Krizza, I am thankful for your lives! Growing with God would be hard if not for the small group meetings. Knowing God with you is really a great thing.

To my ates, kuyas, close friends, leadership groupmates, and batchmates in church, Jessa, Annj, Irah, Ria, Carlet, Tin, Amma, Carla, Jeremy, Keziah, Trisha, Dody, Samara, Celine, Paula, Larra, Jonuel, ate Carmel, ate Ana, ate Alex, etc., thank you for the random hang outs we had, especially during and after youth services, trainings, classes, meetings, and volunteer work. Making disciples won’t be any funner without your companionship.

To devcom churchmates, Stef, Angel, Ilah, Emil, Ayel, Chelika, Shaira, RC, kuya David, Jessica, etc., reaching out CDC-UPLB with you guys is a blast. I hope and I pray that we may continue to honor God wherever God brings us, esp in the field of devcom.

To GC Soc, Raissa, Julie, Christine, Hazel, Diom, Jasmine, Dianne, Hannah, and Jacob, I can’t remember how we started but I am so thankful for our friendship. Being with you guys is such a breath of fresh air especially in times of deadlines and requirements. We make simple lunch times into laughing sessions, and all-nighters to movie marathons. I will miss Lola J’s. huhu (we should have a sablay pic there haha)

To all my professors in CDC, Sir Edmund, Sir Aldo, Sir Romel, Ma’am Mia, Ma’am Kabz, Ma’am Lynette, Ma’am Elaine, Ma’am Marifi, Ma’am Trina, and especially to my thesis adviser, Sir Garry, thank you for your heart to teach. I appreciate every effort you did while teaching in the subjects you handled during our batch. Thank you for your patience and hardwork. I will always be honored to be your student.

To all my professors in UP, may it be in GE courses or technical electives, you may not remember me (because of the large number of students you handled :D), thank you for imparting not just your knowledge but also your wisdom about social issues, or life in general, that made me think about the mundane things in our environment and in our society. Thank you so much.

To the previous and current staff of UPLB-Office of Public Relations, Ma’am Serlie, Ma’am Jo, Sir Paolo, Sir Chris, Sir Chad, Sir Jayson, Ma’am Kea, Ma’am Beth, Tita Maris, and Kuya Abel, thank you for welcoming me in your office. I really enjoyed working as a student assistant in OPR. Writing news articles about UPLB and documenting various UPLB events was really a privilege. I appreciated UPLB more when I got the chance to serve in various events.

To my ex-housemates and roommates in LB, ate Karms, ate Mariz, ate Mabz, ate Jan, ate Gerlie, ate Jamie, Julie, Chin, Kimber, Judith, Ketchie, Dody, Roselle, ate Rox, Hazel, Lorie, Jayne, Carmie, and Abi, thank you for putting up with me the past months we were together! Being housemates with you contributed a large portion in my character development. Thank you and I will miss every random gimmick or hang outs we do.

I can still clearly remember the first time I first set my foot in UPLB when I passed my transfer application in 2013, and now I can’t believe my college life in UPLB has come to an end. Woooh. Thank you, UPLB, for giving the avenue for growth, joyful, and learning moments. It now dawned to me why UPLB is hard to leave, it’s because it has been part of everyone’s way of life.

So long, UPLB! Padayon!

#universitylife #college #uplb #losbaños

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years ago

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Escape: Not in Love

Word Count: 5622 Tags: @shewhorunswithfandoms @distinguishedqueenofbooks @anyakinamidala @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @wanderingkat77 @bluebird214 @superwholockedbeauty @eyeofdionysus @all-time-foes @girl-next-door-writes @feelmyroarrrr @castiels-ass-butt-1967 @haven-in-writing @sistasarah-sallysaidso @dolamrothianlady @from-kitten-to-kitsune @geeksareunique

Author’s Note: Roxanne finds herself talked into touring with the cover band. Peter finds himself pining after a Terran. But he's not in love. Continuation of Escape

Roxanne sat at the light table in the back of the tour bus, carefully hand lettering the posters for the next four concerts. Across the table from her, the bass guitar player, Alex, was colouring her doodles in with copic markers before dropping the finished posters into the box that was being sent to the printer as soon as they made it into New York City. They worked in companionable silence. From the front of the bus, Roxanne could hear Jinx tapping on the wall while Ken, the guitarist, noodled on his acoustic.

“I know you didn’t want to do the big venue concerts in this tour, Rox, but I think kicking off your tour big like this is going to be really awesome for the foundation,” Alex suddenly spoke.

“Yeah?” Roxanne wasn’t really paying attention.

“There are a lot of kids who are going to benefit from the proceeds of this tour. I’m glad you decided to start it out with a huge Pixie Stix concert,” Alex clarified.

“I’m not the only one who made the decision, Alex.”

“No, but you are the person who was adamant it all be small venues. I think the exposure is going to help the foundation get a really solid start.” Alex went back to colouring.

“It wasn’t until I read about how poorly Americans are showing in the sciences that I realized we needed to throw as much money at the problem as we could. It changed my focus. I’m glad you threw the research my way, Al,” Roxanne shrugged.

“So my kid sister was telling me about how Stark Industries is sponsoring a women in sciences program now. They’ve got buy in from a pile of other STEM companies as well. She applied for one of their summer camps. It sounds pretty rad,” Alex segued. Roxanne’s eyebrow quirked.

“Oh?”

“Maybe you should get Jerry to contact Stark Industries and see if we can’t work together. Stark is a billionaire, right? If we could get him to throw a few zeroes on the back of the foundation’s bank account it could do some real good,” Alex suggested. Roxanne shrugged.

“I don’t know. Stark’s kind of a dick, don’t you think?”

“TV always makes famous people look like dicks. Remember when you and Jinx split?” Alex reminded her. Roxanne made a sound of disgust. Every TV tabloid show had speculated on what and why they were divorcing, going as far as to make up details when they refused to release a statement. When Roxanne finally lost her temper at a paparazzi reporter who’d been stalking her, even people in the know started freaking out that the band was going to split. She rolled her eyes.

“I guess. I’d rather see what we can do on our own, you know? Star-Lady and the astronauts was a pet project. If we can start a grassroots campaign to improve educational opportunities for all kids, on our own, we’ll have started a dialogue within the music fan base. Maybe that seems narrow-minded, I don’t know,” Roxanne sighed. “I just like the idea of us starting something without corporate sponsorship.”

“Stark has been a questionable company in the past. We don’t want to alienate potential supporters,” Alex agreed.

“Besides, that dude is always looking for a sound bite. He’d probably show up at all our press and divert attention,” Roxanne pointed out.

“Solid.” Alex slid the last poster into the box and capped his markers, carefully returning them to the wooden box he stored all his art supplies in. Roxanne stretched and folded the table away, pulling the mattress across it.

“Here’s the part where I kick you out of my bunk so I can get some sleep. I’ve been crazy tired the past few weeks,” she yawned. Alex tilted his head in concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just feeling run down. There was a lot more braining that went into this tour. I had to micromanage Jerry to get him to back down from insisting on the huge stadium tour idea, and he refused to try to source more affordable and ethical vendors for memorabilia and and and.” Her complaint was stifled by another yawn.

“Take your vitamins, Rox. This is going to be a busy four months.” Alex teased.

“Get out of my bunk. We have a week off at the midpoint. I’ll rest up then,” Roxanne shouldered him toward the door of the tiny room. Alex raised his hands in surrender and backed away.

“You won’t be resting then. That’s birthday week!” He protested.

“Out!” Roxanne exclaimed, pushing him past the door, and pulling it shut.

“Roxy Rain! Tell us about the line-up for tonight’s concert!” Carmen, the radio DJ, was too bubbly, too excited. Roxanne smiled and adjusted the headset on her ears.

“We’ve got representation in Star-Lady and the astronauts from Pixie Stix, Dr. Schrödinger’s Kitty, Chainlink Fence and Spleen, so we decided for the kick-off concert, we’d each do a 30 minute set. Then Star-Lady and the astronauts will wrap up the concert with two half hour sets. So it’s a good long concert, well worth the price of the ticket. And you’ll be supporting the newly founded Star-Lady foundation for Science education.” Roxanne took a long swig from the coffee in front of her when she finished speaking.

“That’s ninety minutes of front-of-the-stage rocking for you, Roxy. Sounds exhausting!”

“It’ll be worth it. We’re doing 4 big city concerts on the tour; each one will feature one of the bands from tonight, plus Star-Lady and the astronauts. But for the most part, the Star-Lady concerts are going to be in smaller venues across America, and the profit from those concerts will be put back into science education in those communities. It’s going to be a busy four months.”

“Sounds like it’ll be worth it. What makes musicians want to give to science education?” Carmen asked.

“We’re all scientists first. Music was a passion that paid off in a big way for each member of Star-Lady and the astronauts, but the sciences are where we cut our teeth, and where we’d all planned to have careers,” Roxanne explained. She knew she would be explaining the same thing in every city they visited for the next four months. And she was already exhausted. She plastered a smile on her face.

“Any chance you’ll drop us a hint on what you’ll be playing tonight?” Carmen pressed. Roxanne laughed and picked up her acoustic guitar.

“Most of what Star-Lady does is cover music, but this is an original tune. It’s being released next week and as with everything from the tour, the profits are going to support science education and programs in communities across the country,” Roxanne explained. “You’ll have to forgive my playing, I don’t often pick up a guitar anymore, so I’m a little rusty.” She picked at the strings to make sure the guitar was tuned, and strummed a couple of practice chords. Carmen cocked her head and narrowed her eyes.

“Wait, before you start,” she interrupted. “This is an song that hasn’t been released? So you’re giving us a world premiere?” Roxanne pulled a face and giggled.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she nodded.

“Okay, folks, you’re hearing it here first, Roxy Rain from Pixie Stix and Star-Lady and the astronauts with the world premiere of the first single from the Star-Lady and the astronauts album!”

Roxanne could feel herself flushing and started playing the guitar again. She cleared her throat and winked at the DJ, who was nearly vibrating with excitement.

“I haven’t played guitar for anyone in ages. So everyone listening needs to remember, I’m the singer, okay?” She laughed self-consciously, and took a deep breath. “Hey spaceman, won’t you take me for a ride?” The words slipped out and the gentle musicality of Roxanne’s acoustic voice silenced the room. She was used to that. Any time she did acoustic work, and didn’t have what she called her ‘rock star voice’ amped to eleven, people fell silent. It was like they forget that she was actually a musician, if that made any sense. It didn’t to her, but she still noticed it. Her fingers stumbled on the guitar, but her voice was carrying the song anyhow. The guys had all said it was a strong melody when she’d written it, and there was very minimal accompaniment on the release or in practice.

“That’s a love song, Roxy,” Carmen commented, her eyebrow raised. Roxanne laughed.

“Sure. Here’s the thing. My background in the sciences has been esoteric Pixie Stix trivia for years, but I am a scientist at heart. And my specialty is space. Of course I’m in love with the notion of space travel, and seeing past our atmosphere. There is so much more than this little earth out there for us, and we have no idea what it all holds,” Roxanne shrugged.

“So if a spaceman offered, you’d tag along on an intergalactic adventure?” Carmen smirked, pressing for an answer.

“In a heartbeat,” Roxanne laughed. “That’s not realistic though is it? I’d have to wrap the tour, and plan to be off the grid for a while, get my affairs in order. There’d be too many questions otherwise, right?”

“Well, we know there is other life out there now,” Carmen led.

“Sure, we know there’s life out there, but is it life that is compatible with ours? So far, the aliens that have visited earth have been largely out to destroy it,” Roxanne stated. “Not exactly compatible with my romantic notions about travelling the universe.”

“They say that Thor is an alien,” Carmen waggled her eyebrows. “I’ve got some romantic notions about him.”

Roxanne couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair enough. But the aliens that invaded New York? Or the ones that hit London? They don’t really strike me as the kind that would like a human tag-along. In the end, it’s a song, and sure, it’s romantic. Because music is supposed to make us dream about the extraordinary.”

“Like aliens who are hot like Thor coming to sweep you off your feet,” Carmen determined.

“Exactly,” Roxanne laughed.

“I love the song, Roxy, I love the album. I love the motivation for the tour and I just love everything about you. I can’t wait for the concert tonight. I’m looking forward to following the tour and seeing all the awesome science stuff you guys are able to purchase to support education. I wish you all the best,” Carmen started to wrap up the interview. “We just released some tickets for the sold-out opening night of the Star-Lady and the astronauts tour tonight, and if you don’t have any luck at the box office, stay tuned because we are giving away three more pairs of tickets with backstage meet and greet coming up on the half hours. Thanks again for coming in, Roxy Rain!”

“Well thanks for having me. It’s been fun. See you tonight!” Roxanne waited until her mic had been turned off before she rose and packed up her guitar. “How’s the ticket give away been going?”

Carmen finished flicking some switches on the console to run the next music set. “It’s been cool. People are really excited. Last week, everyone who was entered to win tickets had to donate to an education program for underprivileged kids. We wound up raising over $3500 for a science program in the Bronx. Then Stark Industries matched it. Which was cool.”

“That’s very cool. I heard something about a women in STEM initiative that Stark Industries started,” Roxanne nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve got the info on it in my email. Want me to forward it to you? We’ve been giving it a lot of airtime. It sounds solid awesome.”

“Yeah, that would be cool,” Roxanne yawned. “Man, I’m sorry. I am already so bagged and the tour hasn’t even started. I’m going to need lots of B12 over the next few weeks.”

“I hope your bunk is comfy,” Carmen teased.

“That is where I am headed right now. I’ve got time for a catnap before I need to carb up for the show,” Roxanne laughed. “I’ll see you at the meet and greet. It was nice to meet you, Carmen.” She made her way out of the studio and down to the waiting driver, who returned her to the stadium. While set up continued, she pushed to the back of the tour bus and crashed in her bunk, becoming dead to the world.

“Rox, come eat, love,” Jinx shook her shoulder. Roxanne rolled over in the dim light of the bus and rubbed her eyes.

“It’s dark,” Roxanne mumbled.

“Yeah, dinner’s ready, you have thirty minutes before you need to be in hair and make-up. Meet and greet in 2 hours, concert in three.” Jinx ran through the itinerary quickly.

“Why did you let me sleep so long?” She stretched and yawned.

“This is the third time I’ve been in to wake you, love. I told you that you needed more sleep. You can’t start this tour run down, Rox.” Jinx was scolding, but his tone was gentle. It reminded her why she’d married him. She scrubbed her hand down her face and nodded.

“Straight to bed after the concert tonight, I promise.” She held her hand across her heart.

“Come eat then.” Jinx pulled her to her feet.

“In a heartbeat. That’s not realistic though is it?” The voice crackled across the radio and Rocket rolled his eyes.

“How did you manage to find a smart one, Quill?” He asked, fiddling around with some strange components.

“I didn’t find – you know, forget it, you wouldn’t understand.” Peter pushed out of his seat and stepped over to the radio, switching it back over to the iPod.

“Understand what exactly? That a month after leaving Terra we’re back in orbit over it, despite having nothing of value for us?”

“There’s value in Terra!” Peter exclaimed.

“There’s a girl on Terra, Quill, that’s not exactly our line of work, unless you want to add sex-trafficking to our list of potential jobs?” Rocket snapped.

“What?” Peter was confused.

“The way I see it, Quill, we’re back here because of that woman. And you said she was nothing special when we left Terra last month, so what gives?” Rocket demanded.

“Maybe she is something special,” Gamora suggested. “We haven’t been further than a quadrant away from Terra since we left.”

“Or maybe I’m homesick!” Peter protested.

“Explain why we’ve been listening to her radio interview for the past fifteen minutes?” Gamora demanded. Peter huffed out a sigh of defeat.

“You know what? Screw you guys. Maybe I would like to see her again!” Peter threw up his arms. “What does it matter?”

“She wrote a song about you, Quill. She wants to see you again too,” Gamora pointed out.

“That song was not about Quill. That song was about metaphors,” Drax protested. Gamora rolled her eyes. Peter threw his hands up in defeat and stalked toward the galley.

“It’s a good thing Rocket knows how to use the google,” Gamora sighed. “He managed to win you tickets to the concert tonight.” Peter froze between rooms, and turned slowly back to face the rest of the crew.

“What?”

“You can pick it up at the stadium box office,” Rocket confirmed. Peter’s eyes narrowed, disbelieving what he was hearing. ��What? It’s why we’re here. It’s why you’ve been irritable. Go see the girl, get her out of your system, and then we can get back to loot. And credits.” Rocket watered Groot’s pot as he spoke.

After a huge coffee and a refill, Roxanne was feeling slightly more human. She devoured the steak and pasta that Jinx dropped in front of her, and made her way to hair and make up. She flopped down in the chair, nursing a third enormous coffee, feeling the caffeine work its way through her system.

“Roxy, meet and greet in ten,” Jerry leaned in through the door. Roxanne nodded and waved him off. She just needed to get dressed, and she had plenty of time to do that between the meet and greet and the stage call. She made her way out to the backstage fan area, still holding her coffee cup. She had on a pair of patterned leggings and a long t-shirt. It wasn’t a look she ever wore on stage, but she suspected she’d be seeing more of it in her fan base after the concert. The DJ from earlier was wrangling fans, and waved at her. She waved back, and then realized that Carmen was actually waving her over.

“Heya?” Roxanne met her halfway between the fan line and where she’d been standing.

“There’s a dude here to pick up tickets he won but he’s got no ID. Claims he knows you and you could ID him,” Carmen looked awkward.

“Oh yeah? What’s he say his name is?” Roxanne walked with Carmen back to the pick up area.

“Roxanne!” She heard a familiar male voice call. Her eyes narrowed and her head snapped around to where the voice had come from. It was Peter. She smiled broadly.

“This the guy?” She asked Carmen. Carmen nodded.

“Peter Quill?” Carmen looked down at her clipboard.

“Yeah, I know him,” Roxanne lengthened her stride and headed toward Peter. She threw her arms around him across the metal barricade separating the unsecured area from where she was standing. “You are a sight for sore eyes, Pete.”

“You look amazing, Rox.”

“Professional hair and make-up.” She waved it off, pulling away. She nodded at the security guard, who allowed Peter to pass through the gate into the secured area. Roxanne slipped her arm into the crook of Peter’s elbow and led him back to where the fans were. Roxanne tugged Peter’s shoulder down to whisper in his ear. “I’m not gonna have much time to catch up, Pete, but I’ll let security know you can stick around after the show.”

“I’d enjoy catching up,” Peter smiled. Roxanne winked and let go of his arm, to walk over to the fans waiting to meet her. Carmen was talking to them as she approached, and Roxanne glanced over her shoulder, looking for the ‘astronauts’. She saw them over near a table of food, looking uncomfortable. She reeled around and headed over to her bandmates.

“Guys, you need to relax. These people are here for you. And they’re science geeks. Check out the t-shirts,” Roxanne pointed out the front row of fans. There was a Carl Sagan t-shirt, a periodic table t-shirt and one that made a pun about covalent bonds that sent the drummer into fits of giggles. “Let’s go meet some people, shall we?”

Roxanne led the group over to the fans and waited for Carmen to bring everyone in. They cycled through the group, chatting with everyone, and eventually the rest of the band got more relaxed. Just as they were wrapping up, Carmen approached them again.

“Your friend is hot.” She gave Peter a once over. Roxanne smirked.

“Is he?” Roxanne was purposely vague.

“He is. I bet you’d run away in a heartbeat if he was your spaceman,” Carmen teased, winking. Roxanne let out a loud, surprised laugh.

“You have no idea,” she muttered as she walked toward Peter. She very carefully didn’t touch him on approach. “You look good enough to eat, Mr. Quill.”

Peter arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think we have time for that right now, Roxanne.”

“True story. Let me grab you an access pass, and show you the dressing room. You can come and go from the show back then.” Roxanne led him over to Jerry. “My friend needs a pass, Jer.”

“Roxy, really?” Jerry gave Peter a once over. “You’ve never been one for groupies.”

“He’s not a groupie,” Roxanne argued. Peter shook his head from behind Roxanne.

“Totally a groupie. Nice to meet you.” He offered his hand to Jerry. Jerry shook it, raising an eyebrow at Roxanne.

“Not a groupie. I’ll grab you that pass.” Jerry flipped through his clipboard and pulled a pass out for Peter, handing it over and then hustling off to do something.

“What did he mean?”

“If you were a groupie, you wouldn’t have shook his hand,” Roxanne informed him. She glanced around and saw that no one was watching and pressed a kiss to Peter’s lips quickly. “See you later.”

The concert went better than Roxanne had anticipated. They were called for three encores and the preliminary tally on the fundraising from merchandise was twice what had been anticipate, Jerry had announced as they came off-stage. The caffeine had finally worn off, and coupled with the intense concert, Roxanne was bagged. She stumbled into the dressing room, forgetting that Peter was waiting for her, and flopped on the couch.

“You look exhausted, Roxanne.” Peter stepped over to the couch, sat her up and began rubbing her back. Roxanne groaned in release.

“33 more dates, Pete. I won’t let you leave if you keep that backrub up,” Roxanne threatened. Peter climbed onto the couch behind her and kept massaging.

“You know the team wouldn’t allow that,” Peter murmured, dropping a kiss on the nape of her neck. “They say I’ve missed you.”

“Have you?”

“Probably,” he admitted. Roxanne laughed.

“And when are you expected back?”

“Eventually.” Peter’s hands stilled on her shoulders and slid forward, wrapping around her. He sighed and leaned against her.

“That’s vague. Tonight? Tomorrow?” Roxanne pushed up and turned in his arms, kneeling into the plush couch cushions. “Next Tuesday?”

Peter answered her with a kiss. He drew her up against his chest and slipped his hands under the spangly silver sequined top Roxanne had worn during her last set. “Long enough, Rox.”

“Then maybe we should move this to the bus, where we have half a chance of some privacy.” Roxanne stepped off the couch and took Peter’s hand, leading him down the hallway toward the loading bay. Roxanne pulled a magnetic flag off the inside of the bus door and put it on the outside before pulling the door shut. Peter peered around at it and started laughing.

“Sleeping? Not really.” He winked and followed her down to her bunk. “Where were we?” He pulled her back into his arms and tilted his head down to kiss her. Roxanne wrapped her arms around his neck and groaned.

“You were giving me an amazing massage,” she reminded him. “Here, I’ll get my show stuff off and you can continue. My back has been killing me the last few days.” She turned away to the drawers beside her bed and pulled out a pair of pajamas. Peter snorted.

“Don’t worry about those. They won’t be on long anyhow,” he teased. Roxanne smirked and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

“I don’t wear anything under my stage clothes, Pete,” she taunted from the bathroom. Peter pulled off his jacket and boots and dropped them in a pile on the floor. Roxanne reappeared and assessed him. “You could lose the shirt and pants too.” He stripped down to his boxers and hopped on the bed beside her, bouncing her slightly. She rolled onto her stomach and cleared her throat.

“Let’s have some more of those magic fingers, Star-Lord,” Roxanne demanded. Peter knelt beside her and dug into the tense muscles of her back and was gratified to hear Roxanne’s moan of pleasure at the massage. He leaned down and kissed her shoulder, watching goosebumps dance across the bare flesh at her neck. Roxanne sighed and settled under his skillful ministrations.

“I liked the song, Rox,” he offered.

“Yeah?”

“The Milano is remarkably warm inside. Just thought I’d confirm that for you,” he teased. Roxanne let out a low chuckle.

“Good to know.” Her voice had grown husky.

“I liked the acoustic version from the radio best,” he continued. “But I need to know, do I count as hot like Thor?”

There was no response from Roxanne, and Peter was ready to be offended when he caught the gentle snore and realized she’d fallen asleep. He pulled up the blankets and curled up next to her to go to sleep.

“I’m sorry,” Roxanne whispered, kissing Peter awake in the low light of pre-dawn.

“You were tired,” Peter grumbled, scrubbing his hand across his face. Roxanne slid closer on the bed and nodded.

“I was. I’m not now.” She dipped her head and nipped at his collarbone. Peter made a noise that Roxanne could only define as a purr and rolled on top of her, capturing her mouth with his own. He slid his hand down to her pajama bottoms and tugged at them. Roxanne shifted her hips, pulling free of the stretchy jersey shorts and wriggling them down her hips. She tugged at Peter’s briefs, struggling to shimmy the elastic down his hips. He broke free from the kiss to take over, kicking them off the foot of the bed. He dropped back between Roxanne’s legs and let out a sigh of contentment. Roxanne bit his lip, crooking her heel around the back of his thigh and tugging him closer.

The sharp staccato of purposeful knocking started at the front of the bus. Peter stilled, like he was a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. “Who –“

“I don’t care, we’re busy, and I have my sleeping flag up. Everyone on the crew knows you do not disturb me when I’m sleeping,” she grumbled.

“We’re not sleeping,” Peter pointed out.

“I’m not answering the door,” Roxanne shrugged, and pulled his mouth back to hers. She tugged him against her and used his movement to shift her weight and roll on top of him. She sat back, and stared at him. His hair was tousled from sleep, and he had a few days growth of stubble. He looked good in the morning. She leaned back down and kissed him, rocking her hips until he slipped inside her. He groaned into her mouth, and settled his hands at her hips, following along as she rocked her pelvis back and forth.

The banging at the door intensified. He broke the kiss to stare over her shoulder, as if they were going to be interrupted.

“Pete, relax. The door is locked,” Roxanne reassured him. He sat up and rolled her onto her back, pistoning his hips against hers. Roxanne rocked in rhythm with him, letting out a whimper of pleasure as he ground against her roughly.

“Goddamnit, Roxy, I know you’re in there!” It sounded like Jerry. The banging became a cacophony of noise, and Peter slowed down just long enough to lean back and swing the door to the bunk shut and flip the lock. Roxanne pulled him back to her, taking his mouth aggressively with her own.

“Stop getting distracted, Pete,” she growled, tilting her hips and wrapping her legs tightly around his thighs. Peter closed his eyes and sighed, his thrusts getting rougher and quicker. The banging at the door echoed through the room, in syncope to the movements of their bodies. Peter grunted and tightened his grip on her hips, collapsing against her.

“I’m sorry, Rox. I couldn’t concentrate. And you felt really good,” he murmured into her ear, smoothing her hair away from her face as he shifted his weight and rolled to the side. He pressed his lips gently against hers.

“Been at sea too long, sailor?” Roxanne teased.

“Seems like a month is too long where you are concerned. I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

“Yes, you will.” Roxanne climbed across him and picked his t-shirt off the floor, pulling it over her head. She grabbed a pair of panties out of the drawer and slipped them up over her hips. She moved to smooth her hair, and decided against it, unlatching the door and walking toward the front of the bus. The banging was enough that Peter pulled a pillow over his head. He heard Roxanne unlock the door of the bus and swing it open, and heard her pad back up the steps into the kitchenette. He peered at her from under the pillow, watching her pull a k-cup pod out of the box, and set a cup of coffee brewing.

“Christ Almighty, Roxy, I was banging on that door for ten minutes!” Jerry complained as he climbed the stairs into the bus. “Did you not get my text last night, you’re late for a meeting.”

“You’d better have another one of those nice white cups for me if you’re going to talk to me like that this early in the morning, Jer,” Roxanne snatched the Starbucks cup out of his hand, and took the coffee cup from the k-cup machine. She turned her back on the manager and brought the coffee down to Peter. “Here, you can have my coffee, since Jerry brought me whatever this is.” She put it on the bedside table and headed back down the narrow hall to the kitchenette. About halfway down the short hall, the bus rocked with the footfalls of another person climbing up the short stack of stairs. Roxanne opened the mini-fridge, and bent over, looking for something to eat. Peter watched Jerry look away uncomfortably as his t-shirt slipped up Roxanne’s hips exposing her hot pink panties. The guy at the top of the stairs had no such qualms about Roxanne’s state of undress.

“It’s been a while since I’ve spent quality time with a musician. But this looks promising.” The stranger pulled off his sunglasses and smiled wolfishly at Roxanne’s ass. Roxanne shot up, and turned to face him. The look he gave Roxanne made Peter want to run down the hall and punch him. Roxanne obviously felt the same way, and the crack of her hand connecting with the guy’s face reverberated through the confined space of the bus.

“Who the fuck is this, Jer?” She demanded.

“Roxanne Raintree, meet Tony Stark. Mr. Stark was interested in supporting the foundation.” Jerry dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temple, masking a cringe. “I don’t suppose he still will be.”

“She’s not the first woman to slap me. Won’t be the last,” Stark shrugged. Roxanne tensed.

“No thanks. We’ve already discussed this, Jerry. We want to foundation to stand on its own, without corporate sponsorship.” Roxanne dismissed Stark and Jerry and went back to the fridge. She didn’t bend as far over as she looked inside it for something to eat. She pulled out a yogurt and slowly pulled the foil off, raising an eyebrow at Jerry. “You can go now.”

“Roxy, I can call you that, right? Roxy, Stark Industries wants to support any initiative that makes the sciences attainable,” Stark started. “And your particular foundation has huge potential to bring in kids that might not otherwise get those opportunities.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why we founded it.” Roxanne rummaged in the kitchenette for a spoon, and leaned against the short counter to eat. She crossed her ankles and pursed her lips as she watched Stark take in the pale length of her legs.

“Stark Industries wants to throw money at you. I’m having a hard time understanding –“

“Stark Industries might have successfully rebranded, but the bands involved in the foundation are really not interested in taking donations from a company that used to make military weapons,” Roxanne interrupted.

“So this granola and flaxseed reputation is legitimate?” Stark scoffed.

“My life isn’t about sound bites, Mr. Stark. I practice what I preach.”

“And you have the freedom to practice that because of sacrifices –“

“Don’t. Don’t go there, Mr. Stark,” Roxanne cut him off. “You don’t get to talk about the sacrifices of the military just because you provided them with weapons.”

“It must be nice to be wealthy enough to refuse donations on principle, but consider who is losing out while you ride your high horse into the sunset, princess.” Stark raised an eyebrow and then looked past her, settling his gaze on Peter, who was laying in the bed, pillow still over his head, blanket barely covering his ass. “I can see you’re busy. Another time.” Stark turned on his heel and walked out. Roxanne took a sip from the coffee she’d stolen from Jerry.

“Well done, Roxy. He was set to donate half a million.” Jerry shook his head and rose to leave.

“We don’t need his money.” Roxanne was adamant.

“Get that groupie out of here, we pull out in thirty minutes.” Jerry stomped down the stairs and slammed the bus door shut. Roxanne walked back to the bed and climbed in beside Peter. Peter groaned and pulled her close for a kiss before sitting up.

“You coming back any time soon?” She asked as he pulled his clothes on. He shrugged.

“I don’t know.” Peter pulled a concert t-shirt out of his pocket and pulled it over his head. He sat down on the edge of the bed and laced up his boots. Roxanne bit the inside of her cheek, trying to be cool with the answer.

“Well, you seem to be able to track down the concert schedule easily enough. And you’ve figured out radio contests,” she paused. Peter laughed.

“Actually, that was Rocket,” he admitted. Roxanne laughed.

“That is awesome. How? You know what, I don’t want to know,” she smiled. “Next time, I’ll make sure we can’t be disturbed.” Peter pushed her back onto the bed and kissed her again.

“I swear, I owe you one.” He murmured. Roxanne bit his lip and smiled.

“We already established that. A big one,” She teased and let go of him.

#Guardians of the Galaxy Fic #guardians of the galaxy fic with OFC #peter quill x ofc

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