#and another memory of you standing above the bodies of your foster family

[cosmiceverafter]

My @malexsanta Secret Santa gift for @gra-sonas 🎁🎄 I was thrilled to give you a Malex gift this year. You're one of my absolute favorites and such a dear friend. You wanted all the holiday cheer: Christmas ornaments, cookie recipe, market, and FLUFF! I hope this domestic fic truly delivers, brings joy to your holiday season, and fills your heart with warmth during the hiatus. I love you, hun! Xoxo.  ❤️️💚

(PS: there's a little surprise in this fic, just for you, inspired by you)

***

Christmas Cookies & Holiday Hearts 

"You know, this will be our first Christmas together. Officially." 

As Michael says the words, Alex glances over at him, and his heart skips a beat. How is it that his alien still manages to take his breath away after so much time? 

Alex smiles and gradually runs his fingertips up and down Michael's strong arm, feeling the smooth skin there. "You're right, even though I know you've tried to get me under a mistletoe for years." 

"I mean, yeah...." Michael beams. His tan shoulders shrug as he kisses Alex's chest softly, "You aren't wrong, babe. Who could deny those luscious lips?" 

Michael's fingers slowly trail up Alex's chest, which currently has imprints of his lover's glowing handprints left lovingly due to their intimacy with each other.

When he sees them, Alex knows with certainty that their love can move mountains and is capable of expanding through galaxies. 

As Alex feels the calluses of Michael's hands on his body and now his lips, he closes his eyes to embrace the effect it manages to bring. It's as if a spark of electricity courses through his veins and ignites his soul. That's the only way he can explain it. 

Nothing ever compares to this—what they have together in these silent moments. Alex will always cherish this peace with his loved one. 

After a moment of soft loving caresses, Michael's smile disappears. Alex knows he's traveling deeper into that intelligent mind of his, the way he always seems to do these days. "But here's the thing, I want it to be special, meaningful. Christmases were never something to be excited about for me, you know? Just another shitty day."

Alex holds his breath but nods. Unfortunately, he knows precisely what Michael means. Though different, the events of their past, parallel each other in many forms worth forgetting. Alex's upbringing was painful in its way. Still, Alex wishes Michael, his sweet, brilliant alien, could have been spared the misery. 

All Michael Guerin has ever wanted was a home, to feel like he belongs on this planet, and Alex wants to spend the rest of his life giving him precisely that. 

"So, you've never done anything memorable during the holiday season? Not once?"

Michael raises an eyebrow as if to announce come on, but then he suddenly laughs as a memory resurfaces, "Well...there was that one time Sanders and I attempted to bake Christmas cookies for his customers." 

Alex smirks as he imagines how that scene played out. A younger Michael Guerin, who was in-and-out of the foster system, and the older man with one good eye, baking in a small trailer. "And uh, how did that turn out?" Even though he can take a wild guess.

Michael shakes his head as his golden curls bounce and sway. He holds up his arm, "Badly, I have a battle scar from the process."

There is a slight white mark on the inside of Michael's arm, which looks a bit like a four-leaf clover. Alex has always wondered about it. "Damn, and here I thought that was a lucky birthmark."

"Darlin', the only good luck charm in my life is you. Never forget that." Alex feels his heart flutter in his chest at Michael's words, and Michael gently kisses Alex's forehead. But before Alex can return the sentiment, his love continues, "But yeah, Sanders' oven was old as hell at the time, and I guess no one taught me not to stick my whole damn arm right on the rack. Sanders felt awful about it. Poor guy." 

"Were the cookies at least good?"

There's a sparkle in Michael's eyes as he says, "You know what? They were. I need to find that damn recipe—it has to be somewhere. Then maybe I can take the old man one, even though you are the better baker." His fingers lace together with Alex's, and Alex gives him a loving squeeze. 

"You're right, I am," Alex smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows. "But I would be happy to help you. Sanders would seriously love that!" 

Alex looks down at their hands still together. He is so happy that Michael now spends so much time with Walt. It is not a boss-employee type of relationship, but more of a familial one. After everything they had both been through, this progression felt natural. And if he's honest, Alex loves seeing Michael finally opening up to others, the way he does with Alex. 

Michael nods and grins, "Done." His caramel eyes gaze at Alex, and he turns over to his side. "But I want new memories, too. Truthfully, besides the cookie disaster, I've never had anyone to share the holidays with."

Again, Alex knows all too deeply what he means, "I know the feeling, my love. I've always admired Christmas from a distance, and it seemed...well, always on the outside looking in." He squeezes Michael's hand tightly through the sheets once more, "I'm thankful to have you by my side. We're both on this journey together." 

"Baby, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather share the memories with." Michael brings the back of Alex's hand to his lips, "Always and forever." 

****

The next day, Alex and Michael decide to go Christmas shopping for their friends, who were more like their found family at this point. 

Roswell had turned festive overnight, and it warms Alex's heart as if he were sitting by the crackling embers. 

Truthfully, he loves the magic that comes with Christmas: The twinkling lights aglow; the cheerful, upbeat, and often, repetitive music; the smiling faces of those who don't wait till the last minute to shop; the smell of cinnamon sugar baked goods; and the falling snow—when they were lucky enough to get some. 

For the first time, Roswell has even set up a Christmas Market like the ones you'd see in Europe. Alex's desert town has turned into a quaint storybook village.

Somebody has strung up multicolored lights between the small buildings, with brightly colored booths, side-by-side. There are reindeer attached to strings high up in the air, and a magnificent tall Christmas tree is sparkling within the town square. Above the tree is a halo of orange lights, symbolizing their golden desert sun. 

It brightens both their spirits to witness the magic created. As Alex and Michael walk around, they hear the soft holiday music surrounding them, which only rekindles their melody passion. 

They travel to each booth as they look for treasures to buy for their loved ones. Alex also keeps his eyes open for something unique he can get his Michael, but nothing quite captures his glance. 

"Look at this!" Michael calls in the distance. He's standing in front of a lovely booth with peppermint designs on the awning and dangling glimmering white lights.

Alex sees what Michael is holding—it's a beautiful guitar ornament. Painted on the guitar are swirls of green, blue, and black, sparkled with stars symbolizing the night sky. 

"Wow..." he says in response. "It's breathtaking."

Michael winks and bumps his shoulder lightly into Alex's, "Pretty cosmic, eh?"

"I'll say," Alex agrees as his grin widens. 

"It was clearly made for us," Michael acknowledges as he wraps a strong arm around Alex's waist, "I think it would be the perfect ornament for our first tree together." 

Alex kisses Michael softly on the lips, "I couldn't agree more, my love." 

****

"So, you have no idea what you're getting him?" 

Michael looks over at Isobel feeling exhausted, not at all how he felt when shopping with Alex, "Obviously not, that's why we're here, Iz." 

"Michael, Christmas is less than one week away, and we're sitting in some random store, shopping for the love of your life, and you don't have a clue about a special gift for him?" 

"Yup, that sounds about right."

Isobel shakes her lengthy blond hair back-and-forth. "Have I taught you nothing over the years?"

Michael groans, "Remind me again why I asked you to come with me?" 

His alien sis just shrugs, "Because I'm brilliant, and it's obvious you need me. I would even add the word 'desperately.'"  

"No...I don't recall that being the reason," Michael teases as he slings his arm lovingly over her shoulders. "You just love this stuff." 

"You're right, I do. It's the best holiday these humans celebrate!" They both laugh, but Isobel kisses his cheek, "Listen, deep down somewhere underneath that dirty white tee of yours, you've gotta have an inkling of what you want to get him." 

Well, if he had a clue, he would know it, wouldn't he? 

But then Michael freezes as he sees something across the store, "Um, wow...that was fast, but you're right, I do."

 Isobel pops a hip out, "Told you so." 

"Yeah, the only problem is I'm not sure how he'll react to it." 

Isobel smiles genuinely, "You know your man; you always have. Go with your instinct, Michael. I mean, word around this town is that they call you a genius or something." She gives him a look as she ruffles up his curls. "But pull away from that mind for once and go with that heart of yours. I, for one, know it's a pretty damn good one." 

Michael snickers but truthfully feels loved, "You could write a self-help book, you know that?"

She winks and bites her red-stained lip, "Who says I haven't already?"

"Give your brother a signed copy. He'll appreciate it." 

"As if," Isobel rolls her eyes, "You know Max wouldn't read it. That poor miserable fool who I love dearly." She pauses but adds, "So, Mr. Guerin, what'll it be? You going to listen to your heart?"

Michael narrows his eyes at the prize. Already knowing the answer to her question, he decides to let his heart follow the lead.  

****

"A little to the left, babe!" Michael calls out to Alex as they attempt to fit the oversized tree through the cabin door. "Darlin', my left." 

They spent the evening looking for the perfect tree, as it was their official first Christmas together. However, they ended up going with a taller sparse, and lopsided pine because, truthfully, life wasn't perfect, and neither were they. 

Life is what you make it, and Michael is confident they can make this tree as bright as his heart feels when he's around Alex.   

"There, perfect spot by the window," Alex smiles beautifully, pulling Michael back into the present moment as he nods in agreement. 

"I should've tried harder not to get it through the door, though. Those muscles of yours are worth staring at a bit longer." 

"Well, hold that thought, Guerin, because I'm hungry for food at the moment," Alex replies as he wraps his arms around Michael. "I'm thinking of soup; it's chilly tonight. Maybe it'll even snow." 

Michael runs his fingers on Alex's thick biceps, feeling hungry for something else, "I doubt it. The forecast didn't show it. And knowing our little city, we'll probably end up having a heatwave tomorrow." 

"Hey now," Alex remarks, looking deeply into Michael's eyes, "you never can know future outcomes." 

Michael smiles mischievously, "I dunno...I think your future looks pretty damn bright tonight, babe." 

"Is that a promise?" Alex asks, clearly flirting back. 

"Always, darlin'.'" 

They lean in to share a long lingering kiss, but before it turns too heated, Michael's belly moans in betrayal. Alex pulls back as he chuckles, "Raincheck for later, okay? I'm going to start dinner. Can you set up the tree so we can decorate afterward?"

Michael glares down at his stomach for the interruption but nods, "Absolutely." He moves his fingers, "I do know how to use these hands."

Alex grins in that sexy way of his as he walks into the kitchen, "Don't I know it." 

Michael loves this. He loves that he decided to take the leap of faith and move in with Alex. This cabin has become their oasis, his true home. And here with Alex, he feels like he finally has a place here on earth. 

Everything they had been through, even the pain, was worth it to get to this moment. Michael can't help but feel tears form in his eyes as he feels overwhelmed in gratitude. 

While Alex moves around in the kitchen, Michael cheats a bit to get the tree set up. His powers hover the pine in the air as Michael uses his hands to set up the tree stand. As he moves the small box of ornaments and lights over from the closet, Michael smiles as he hears Alex humming a new song as he cooks. 

Michael wants to live here in this domestic bliss forever.

Alex brings out his home-cooked meal, and damn, Michael thinks as he eats, his man knows how to cook. After they eat the delicious soup, Michael scrubs the plates as Alex makes them each a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows, just the way Michael likes it. When the kitchen is clean, they sip on the chocolatey warmth as they string lights and decorate their tree. 

"Here's our new one," Alex says as he holds their new cosmic ornament in his hand. 

"That's a special one that needs to go right in front," Michael replies, as he hangs it up, hand-in-hand with Alex. "There." 

Alex leans over and kisses his cheek, which warms Michael's heart. "It's perfect." 

"You're perfect," Michael states as he leans his head onto Alex's shoulder. Alex slides his arm around his waist. Their movements are continuously in sync, and they are always somehow touching. 

As Alex's fingers softly graze over the skin on his hip, Michael knows what kind of touch he desires right this moment, "Now, how about we curl up by the fire, and I show you just how talented my hands can be?" 

"Yes, I could use the reminder," Alex responds with a slow grin.

They quickly light the fire, then Alex gives Michael the look as he pulls him towards the couch. 

Being so helplessly caught up in each other, they miss the first few snowflakes that fall in Roswell. 

****

It's cold out, but worth the trip. Alex gives the nod towards Michael, who taps gently on Sanders' trailer door. 

Michael shifts uncomfortably, but Alex is proud of him for facing the emotions he knows his love feels inside. 

After Sanders admitted to trying to adopt Michael, it indeed did something to Michael's heart. He opened up more, and Alex knew that Michael slowly realized he was always wanted and truly loved where it counted. It did something to Sanders too. Alex could almost see the young boy Walt coming through when they spoke now. There was a twinkle in his eye, and he would share memories with a smile instead of sadness. 

They felt like a family. 

That's why they had talked before coming to the old man's house with the cookies. There is something big that Michael wants to do, but Alex knows he's scared. 

Alex is by his side the entire time. 

Sanders opens the door with a smile, "Oh, Michael! Alex! Welcome! I wasn't expecting you." He shakes his shirt with a look of embarrassment. 

"We wanted to surprise you!" Alex says with a grin. He shakes the old man's hand. 

Sanders pats the back of his hand lightly, "I'm glad you did. Please, come in, you two. It's actually cold out." 

Michael takes a big breath and follows Sanders inside. 

When inside, Michael hands him the cookies, "Merry early Christmas." 

"Oh! These look delicious," Sanders says admiringly. 

"I'm not sure if you remember, but these are the exact cookies we made that one Christmas together." 

Sanders looks up at Michael with surprise, "Truly? The... 'burn on the arm' year?"

Michael nods with a jokingly wince, "The very one."

Sanders blows out hard, "Well, it always pained me that you got burned on that damn old oven of mine, but I must say, those cookies were superb, weren't they?" 

"They were, burned and all." 

"And you baked these all by yourself? Uh, should I be scared?" Sanders teases with a nudge. 

"Nah, I had some guidance," Michael mentions as he casually puts his arm around Alex. 

Alex shrugs, "I barely helped at all. Michael here did an excellent job. I tried one, so I can promise you that you'll survive." He winks at Michael. 

"Oh, phew! That's a relief," Sanders chuckles. "Michael, where did you find the recipe?" 

"In the garage, it was in a wooden box on one of your shelves. The one that's slightly tilting. I remembered you putting it in there." Michael taps his head, "I'm pretty observant if you haven't already noticed."

Sanders sighs with a lopsided grin, "You get it from me, I think." He pops one in his mouth. "Wow, absolutely delicious." After he chews, he looks towards Michael with an expression of gratitude. "Well, thank you, son, this means a lot to me."

Alex knows what the word son does to Michael, its effect on him, and Michael shifts awkwardly. He looks over to Alex for reassurance, and Alex holds his hand, comforting him the best way he knows how.  

His strength, after all, is linked to Michael's. They go together in every way that matters. 

"That's not the only thing I brought for you," Michael whispers. He reaches into his back pocket and hands Sanders the envelope. 

"Oh, a Christmas card?"

"Um, well, not exactly," Michael replies as he squeezes Alex's hand tighter. 

Sanders puts on his reading glasses and switches the lights on brighter in the trailer. He opens the envelope and starts to read. The small smile on his face begins to fall, and he becomes nonplussed.

Alex acknowledges that Michael gets uncomfortable, maybe even nervous, but Alex knows that Sanders is touched. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Sanders looks up, and his eyes are full of tears. His voice comes out raspy and hoarse as he asks, "You sure? You want that?"

"More than anything," Michael responds, his voice also full of emotion. "If you'll have me, of course." 

"It would be an honor, son." Sanders sets the adoption papers onto his small wooden table and pulls Michael tightly in his arms. "You've always felt like mine, anyway." 

"I think my mom would be happy about this," Michael cries, letting the tears fall down his face. It's the most beautiful sight to witness, and Alex can't help but let go, too. 

Sanders nods and closes his eye as he holds his son, "You know, my boy, I think she would." 

****

A few days before Christmas, Alex and Michael decide to throw a little festive party at the cabin. They spent the morning stringing up lights outside, getting the drink station ready, and preparing their friend's gifts around the tree. 

It was perfect. 

Isobel is the first to arrive, of course, and she brings so many gifts, she can hardly get through the door, "Hello? A little help here, Michael?" 

"I'm coming. I'm coming!" 

Alex finishes up in the kitchen, and even though the feast smells delicious, Michael's man looks good enough to eat. 

Soon after Isobel has her martini in hand, the others follow suit. 

Liz and Kyle come together, hand-in-hand, and Michael prays it won't be awkward with Max. Gregory shows up, and Isobel immediately wraps her arms around him. Michael and Alex share a knowing smile, especially when she holds a mistletoe above his head. Then Maria and Mimi head inside with a few bottles of wine. With holes in the top, Rosa brings a large box inside, making Michael wonder what it is, but Arturo follows with a banana cream pie from the diner, and the rest is history. Sanders joins, of course, and Michael can't help but hug him longer than the rest. And finally, his boy Max. 

Luckily everyone gets along perfectly. The group has been through so much together that they make a toast for a fresh new beginning. 

Everyone at the party finally knows about the aliens being, well, aliens, and swore to protect them. The secret has bonded and united them in ways Michael never expected.

The group mingles as they sip their drinks, and Michael looks around the room at his friends and family, feeling lucky. He made a life for himself in Roswell, and as he looks towards the love of his existence, Michael knows it's time. 

He takes a moment to just stare at Alex, and suddenly he's beyond grateful he listened to his heart. 

Alex is the one for him. Michael now understands that this human was his reason for coming to this planet—they were written in the stars long ago, destined to be together. 

This is why Michael stands up bravely, walks towards Alex, and gets down on one knee. 

Michael opens the little black box he got in the store with Isobel and reveals a silvery gray tantalum band, one he knows will fit Alex perfectly. 

Isobel hushes everyone down and clasps her hands together as she sends Michael a wink from across the room. Max also gives Michael an encouraging nod, which provides him with the strength he needs at that moment. 

Michael stares up at the man he adores, and Alex's perfect mouth falls open. Taking his love's hand, Michael finally finds his voice, "Alex Manes, you are my whole world. When we were teens, you looked at me in music class and sparked something deep inside me; something I didn't quite understand, but it was there with me all along. And when we kissed for the first time, you woke me up to the life I had always dreamed of having. You are that dream, Alex. You are my family, and you've given me a place to call home. I have loved you from the beginning, and I'll love you to the very end." Michael takes a deep breath, "I would be the happiest alien on earth if you would yes. So please, darlin', will you marry me?" 

Alex gleams as tears fill those beautiful eyes, "We truly are linked...." 

"What...what do you mean?" Michael whispers, but Alex immediately joins him on the floor, kneeling in front of him. 

Alex pulls out an emerald velvet box and opens it. Inside is an engraved bronze band that matches the color of Michael's eyes. He holds his breath as the rest of the world fades away. "I mean, you beat me to it even though I've had this ring since we officially got together." Alex places his hand to Michael's face and strokes his cheek gently. "I was waiting for our first Christmas together because I wanted to give us both a happy memory to erase all the bad ones. The plan was going to ask Walt for his approval, which he wholeheartedly gave." They both look at Sanders, who nods with a loving grin. "And then I'd get down on one knee in front of all our loved ones and ask if you'd continue to create this life together with me, a true home." Then Alex holds Michael's hand again, "All I can say is that I love you more than I could ever begin to put into words, and I'm asking you if you'd do me the honor in marrying me?"

Michael doesn't realize he's crying until he feels the drops land on his outstretched hand. "Oh my God, Alex...." 

"Is that a yes?"

Michael laughs softly as he strokes the back of Alex's hand gently, "I believe I asked you first, darlin'." 

Alex nods with a breathtaking smile, tears flickering those beautiful dark eyes, "Of course I will. A hundred times, yes!" He leans in closer to Michael, "And you?"

"That would be a hell yes, baby!" He hears a whoop from one of his friends in the background, but then Michael gets serious. "It's always been a yes for me." Michael cups Alex's face, "You're my human, Alex Manes." 

"That's Alex Sanders if you don't mind."

Michael looks over at his adoptive father again, who's now wiping his eyes and positively glowing. Michael kisses Alex's lips, "I don't mind a bit." 

As they finish their first engaged kiss, their friends cheer, cry, and hug them both tightly, then Isobel giggles, "Is now a good time to give you two our gift?" 

"Go for it, Scooby Squad," Michael exclaims as he takes Alex's hand in his own, never wanting to let go. 

Isobel looks to the room they had closed, "Okay, Rosa, bring her out!" 

Michael and Alex exchange a look. Bring who out?

And before Michael can overthink it, Rosa comes out holding a beagle puppy. "It's a rescue. The shelter I volunteer at found her abandoned on the side of the road." 

"We thought it would be perfect for you two, plus, remember that dinner we had a couple of weeks ago?" Isobel says as she looks towards Alex. "You practically said you were going to start looking for one. I remember you saying, 'the cabin is much too quiet, I think we need to get a dog.'"

Alex laughs and takes the small puppy into his arms, "I don't recall those were my exact words, but it doesn't matter; she's perfect."

"Lost without a family," Michael says, petting the puppy's long ears, "sounds like the two of us all right."

"You mean a found family!" Liz calls out. "Just like all of us."

Alex looks at Michael and nods. Michael smiles back, "We love her. Thank you, everyone!"

"I knew this pup would be a part of your future," Mimi exclaims, and Michael watches Alex wink at her. "She's a gentle soul. I'm happy she'll have you two." 

"Best dog daddies ever," Maria smiles happily. Everyone in the room has what seems to be permanent heart-eyes. "We will miss her, though! She's been staying with us." 

"Well, you know you all are welcome here anytime!" Alex says. 

"What will you name her?" Gregory asks as Isobel leans back into his arms. 

"How about Kyletta?" Michael laughs as he looks towards Kyle. "Kyletta Barklenti." 

"Real funny, alien boy," Kyle responds, as he rolls his eyes looking reasonably amused. He looks over at the food, "How about Bagel? You seemed to be pretty obsessed with those today, Guerin. I mean, how many did you actually eat?" 

"I was hungry!" Michael retorts, "You didn't bring nearly enough to share." 

"Okay, okay," Alex intervenes as he shakes his head. Michael enjoys ruffling Kyle's feathers, but Michael doesn't mind the guy beneath his human annoyances. He's a good friend to Alex, making him a good man in Michael's book. 

"So, what are you going to name her then?" Max asks from across the room.

"Yeah, I mean, you don't actually have to name her after a food," Kyle teases. 

"No," Michael grins, "you know what, Doc? I like it. Bagel. It has that—" 

"Bagel! Yes, call her Bagel. I love it!" Isobel interrupts. 

"Not again..." Michael groans quietly. Isobel + anything bagel = interruptions, which is a no-go, especially when it comes to Alex. 

After they finalize the name, everyone gushes over the puppy and their rings. They eat, share stories, and finish opening gifts. 

The day is perfect in every way. Even on the Hallmark channel, they don't make them better than this.

Michael holds Bagel in his arm and takes a break from the crowd. He sits on the couch in the living room, and the puppy folds up into his lap, falling asleep as Michael rubs her ears. 

After a moment or two, someone strokes his shoulder lightly, and he looks up to see his fiancé's beautiful face. Michael feels immensely grateful, not for the first time this holiday season.

Alex scoots in close and whispers in Michael's ear, "So, my love, would you say this Christmas is worth remembering?" 

Michael pulls Alex in his arms, "Yes, darlin'. I've never been happier in my life." He takes Alex's hand with the ring and kisses it. "Our family is already growing."

"It sure is," Alex says, putting his forehead against Michael's as he strokes Bagel's soft fur. 

They sit there for a while, just the three of them, with the comforting hum of loved ones surrounding them. 

"Wow...Look, Michael." Michael looks out the window to see it snowing.  The snowflakes fall to the ground in a swirling dance. It reminds Michael of their life together, new and old memories, coming together in a story of love. 

Michael feels complete peace in his heart as Alex says, "Merry Christmas, my love."

It was merry, and their future, well, Michael knows it will be very bright as long as they always have each other. 

"I love you," Michael answers. 

Alex's reply is the kiss they share and would continue sharing for the rest of their days. 

[gemma-lemma]

Cloudy Days - JJ Maybank x Male OC

1.5 – Stay out of the marsh

 When Parker woke the next morning, it was to a lady walking past the sofa he was crashing on. Once he realised that she didn’t just have awful taste concerning the colour of her clothing, but was actually wearing a cop’s uniform, he was suddenly wide awake and frantically scrambled to the end of the bed within 1.5 seconds, as far away from her as possible. Wide-eyed and heavy breathing he stared at her. Unimpressed she stared back, an eyebrow raised and a hand lazily on her hip.

“Do I have to be concerned about why this is your first reaction to seeing a cop?” She asked finally, voice husky, but pleasant. It reminded Parker of a home he’d never had. He shook his head slowly to get rid of the steadiness her persona seemed to emanate, and remembered that she was still a cop. He had met cops like that before, and they had been just as bad as all the others. Some even worse.

“Do I have to be concerned about you sneaking around my cousin’s house at eight in the morning?” He shot back after a quick glance towards the clock on the wall. She raised the corner of her mouth and formed her eyes into slits, as if she was saying ‘touché’.

“Your cousin’s house? That must mean you’re Big John’s nephew, am I right? Tamara’s boy.” She concluded and he nodded curtly, not really liking the idea of talking to a cop in general. Even less liking the idea of a cop knowing anything about his family. “My name is Sheriff Susan Peterkin. I need to talk to John B. Do you know where he is?”

Weighing how good of an idea it could possibly be telling her lies, Parker decided that she would go check in his room anyways and thus just nodded towards it. “He’s in his room. Fast asleep, I assume.”

She nodded and went on. Parker used the moment to go to the bathroom and get somewhat ready for the day. His shirt was completely sweaty, though, so he just shrugged it off and threw it in some corner. When he came back out, John B was already talking to Sheriff Peterkin.

“…of the things I heard, was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn’t been in the state for three months.” Peterkin said, leaning on the wall to get a better look at a picture that hung there. John B quickly tried to clean up a little, and Parker decided to just stand back and watch the situation unfold.

“Yeah, that’s false.” He tried to save his ass, but she just lazily waved a hand at him.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know it’s true. I called the school.” She said without even looking at him. Parker studied her side profile, the way she talked and moved. She seemed jovial, and it unsettled him because it comforted him. The last jovial cop he had met had tried to get into his pants. Not very pleasant memories. He had almost gone to jail for decking him.

“They said you used to be a good student, but now you’re failing all your classes.” She said and walked over to the table, where she picked up the remainders of a joint and sniffed at them with a disgusted expression.

“No, no. It’s only one, and it’s history. The dude’s a dick. He’s out for me-“

“And I heard there was a fight on the beach yesterday.” Peterkin interrupted John B, clearly not caring about his excuses. “And a gun was involved.”

Now she looks like an angry mom, Parker thought, and immediately had to think about his own mom. He quickly pushed the memories down.

“Okay, alright. A gun? No.” John B lied, doing a miserable job at trying to convince her. He patted a hand on her shoulder and Parker had to stop and stare a moment just to admire his horrendous stupidity and balls of steel. Back at home, if you even so much as looked at a cop the wrong way, they would beat you up real good or worse. But Peterkin didn’t seem to mind as much as the cops in Jacksonville. In fact, all he got was a glare.

“Did I get in a dust-up? Yeah, but was there a gun? Pft. No. No way.” John B said.

“That’s okay. I know who it was. I’ll get to him.” Parker didn’t like the sound of that. JJ was a hothead and would most probably do something incredibly stupid. “All I’m worried about right now is making sure you’re in a safe home. And you.” She pointed a finger at Parker, who theatrically laid a hand on his chest and made a questioning expression. “I bet you’re not eighteen either. What can you tell me ‘bout your living situation?”

“Yeah, super safe. Super sound, sturdy, you know me.” John B scoffed, and Parker added: “I’m just on vacation, Lady. I’ll be gone soon one way or another.” He ignored the sting that truth gave him.

“Nah I don’t like the sound of that. I’m gonna keep an eye on you, too.” Peterkin said and eyed him sceptically.

John B quickly added: “And, Uncle T is comin’ back, so…”

“That what he told you? Well, if he’s really coming home, I think you should be allowed to stay.” Peterkin said, obviously not believing the Routledge boy. Parker couldn’t help but wonder why she would do that.

“Thank you.” John B said in a duh-tone.

“But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me. Tit for tat.” Peterkin said, and immediately summoned a picture of another Jacksonville PD detective in Parker’s head, who was as corrupt a cop as they could get. Hell, he probably sold and snorted more drugs alone than most of the dealers he busted together.

John B scratched his temple. “What does -what does tat mean?”

“Let me see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you in the marsh yesterday?”

That piqued Parker’s interest, because it was not what he would have expected.

“Yeah, we were fishin’ for some drum.” John B said and cast a quick glance at Parker, who made a grimace that was supposed to tell his cousin to not spill a thing.

“Did you catch anything?” Peterkin asked.

“Nah, we were skunked.” John B said and quickly turned away before looking at her again. He wasn’t as bad a liar as Parker had feared.

“Strange. Fishing’s usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up.” Peterkin mumbled in a tone that said ‘You’re a good liar, but I know you’re talking shit, kid’. “You come across a wreck yesterday?”

John B feigned thinking for a second before denying. Peterkin held up a hand to mimic water-level.

“You’re skimming just above the surface, John B.” She sank her hand a little and drew circles with a finger. “Now, down here is foster care, juvie. Pretty big drop for a smart kid like you.” She raised her hand to eye level. “Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks – or foster care on the mainland.”

John B sat down, Parker shifted. Peterkin was different from all the cops he had ever encountered, and he didn’t know what to make of it yet.

“You’re one inch above the surface, boy. If I was you, I’d start flappin’ my wings. Now, you sure, you didn’t come across a wreck yesterday?”

John B shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” Peterkin turned around to face Parker. “How about you? See anything unusual?”

Parker chuckled and shrugged. “I haven’t been here in years, how the hell would I know what’s unusual?” He gave her a look that made it clear she wouldn’t get a single word out of him. She gave him a look that said ‘Just you wait, I’m gonna figure you out soon enough’.

She looked back and forth between the two of them, and Parker imagined seeing a hint of worry in her dark eyes. “It’s better if you didn’t, you understand? I’m going to look the other way, as long as you stay out of the marsh.”

She started out the door, but turned around one last time, disgustedly eyeing the Château. “I got dogs living better than this, John B. You might wanna think about cleaning up. And you.” She pointed two fingers at Parker, mimicking watching him. “Remember, I’m gonna keep an eye on you, Cloud.”

And like that, she was gone. Parker couldn’t help but wonder how she still remembered his name. He definitely didn’t want to meet her again.

John B threw a can against the wall and put his head in his hands.

“She’s unusual.”, said Parker, but his cousin didn’t bother to look up towards him. He decided to walk outside and take a nap in one of the hammocks.

 Parker didn’t know how long he had slept, but the next thing he knew were soft fingers brushing the hair out of his face and a melodic voice telling him to wake up.

“Leave me alone.” He mumbled and tried to turn away, forgetting that he was in a hammock and falling right out of it. Kiara’s laugh rang loud and clear.

“Oh, Parker, I tried to do it softly.” She smiled and crouched down beside him while he groaningly sat back up. He was shirtless, but when he looked up at the darkhaired girl, she did not only hold a hand out towards him, but also a crumpled piece of fabric.

“You brought be a shirt?” He asked confused, but she just laughed.

“It was lying around, and you get burned so easily. You’re lucky the hammock’s in a shadowy spot. Your sunburn’s already kinda nasty.” She gave his red shoulders a quick glance before helping him up. To his surprise, the piece of fabric turned out to be a light blue long sleeved shirt, which he just draped on but left unbuttoned. It even kinda fit his black shorts. Jokingly, he posed and wiggled his eyebrows.

“How do I look?”

“Fantastic.” Kiara giggled, and they walked over to where the others were, sitting down on a small couch. On the small table in front of it was a pair of bongos.

“Do you know how to play the bongos?” Kiara purred, and Parker shook his head.

“I know how to play the guitar, though.”

Her eyes lit up in delight. “You know how to play the guitar? That’s awesome! Listen, you teach me how to play the guitar, and I teach you the bongos. Deal?”

Parker smiled. “Deal.”

Their bongo session didn’t last very long, though, because John B appeared and announced that he was calling it off. “Peterkin said, if I stay out of the marsh, she’ll help me with DCS.”

“And you believed her?” JJ asked incredulously from his spot in the sun.

“Yes, JJ, I believed her.”

“An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop.” JJ looked at Parker. “What are you even good for if you just let him believe the cops, man?”

Parker shrugged. “I can’t decide what he believes in or not. You know, I’ve made the experience that people usually only learn from their mistakes once they start turning around and biting them in the ass.”

“Great support, Parker, thanks.” John B said sardonically. Then he turned back to JJ. “All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a few days, and she’ll help me out. It doesn’t help that your ass was the one shooting a gun.”

“You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass.” JJ retorted and Parker leaned closer to Kiara while the two of them kept bickering.

“Is his name really Topper?” He whispered, waiting for her to tell him it was some kind of stupid nickname.

She nodded her head. “That’s his actual name.”

“God, that guy just keeps getting worse and worse. First, he has frosted tips, then his name is Topper. What’s next? Golf?” Parker shuddered and Kiara and Pope giggled.

“They always, always win.” JJ said desperately and boxed a buoy hanging from the roof.

“Look, it’s okay!” Kiara shouted and he turned around.

“No, it’s not! They don’t want us to go down into the marsh. That means there’s something valuable down there, and you know it.”

“He does kinda have a point.” Parker mumbled and JJ looked at him gratefully.

“See, even Parker agrees, and he’s like – a total chicken.”

“Fuck you too, Maybank.”

“Okay – just listen. I understand why you don’t wanna go.” He pointed at Pope. “You’re the golden boy, you got way too much to risk.” He looked at Kiara. “And you, I mean, you’re already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?”

Parker rolled his eyes at JJ, who now turned back towards John B. “But you and me, man? We got nothing to lose, we really don’t. And from what I can tell, neither does Parker anymore.”

Parker leaned back in the cushions of the couch. “Asshole.”

“But am I wrong? I know it didn’t use to be that way to you.” He said the last part to John B again.

“I don’t want to talk about this. I just don’t wanna talk about it.” John B mumbled and pushed past JJ, away from the group.

“So that’s just it?” JJ called after him. “John B, listen to me, I have a plan.”

He walked after John B and talked to him about scuba gear and rich kids not going to foster care, until John B finally agreed.

Parker rolled his eyes and leaned back, already seeing how this whole thing was going to blow up in their faces.

[thegreatestofheck]

Ocean and Alcohol Pt. 6 ✘JJ Maybank✘

Part One! Part Two! Part Three! Part Four! Part Five! 

(gif not mine. all credit to rudypankows!)

Word Count - 4716 Warnings - Abandonment, verbal abuse, brief mention of sexual abuse,  Synopsis - Hurricane Agatha hit and she hit hard. An old friend stops by with bad news and brings along some repressed memories. JJ shows up at your window just before a breakdown and invites you to a kegger at the boneyard with some very harsh news.   A/N - I thought I should start making these a little bit shorter just for readability, so here we go, another short one! As with the last one, there are some pretty heavy themes here especially around the ideas of abandonment, so if those things are going to be triggering, please be cautious! I love you all and your health is the most important thing to me! I also, I decided the ending while writing this, and let’s just say, I’m very very excited. Thank you for your love and support and thank you for 100 followers!

“A storm’s coming,” Kid said, looking out your window. You looked up at him from your book  He was looking dramatic, head resting against the wall, hands laced together in front of him. You knew he was planning a music video out in his head and you tried not to laugh. “It’s more than a storm, Kid,” you said with a sigh, turning the page despite not reading a single word on it. “It’s hurricane Agatha.” “Are we going to be okay?” He asked, eyes shifting away from the window and toward you. You nodded, eyebrows pinched together. “Of course we are, Kid,” you said. By his downcast eyes, you knew that he didn’t really believe you. You set your book down and patted the bed beside you. “Come here.” Kid scurried across the room and jumped up beside you onto the bed. A dull ache pulsed through you, the bruise on your side not yet fully healed. You put an arm around Kid. “We are going to be fine,” you said as firm as you could manage. “This house is well built, sturdy. In the morning, things might look a little haggard, but inside the house we will be perfectly safe.” As you said the words, you thought of all the houses you saw in the cut that were nothing more than shacks. Your heart tightened in your chest thinking about what might happen to them all. Maybe you could convince your dad to let you help in repairs once the storm was over. But you couldn’t think about that now. All that mattered was Kid and making sure that he was safe. Nothing else was more important. You had been mulling over how to get rich fast without your dad getting suspicious for nearly a week since you were thrown down the stairs. Any practical ideas had yet to pop into your head. Not that it mattered much. You were barely seventeen, almost a whole year until you could even vie for full custody of Kid. Still, your nerves ran wild with bad ideas. Become an escort. They get rich fast. But that would involve sex or at least something close to it and if you could barely let JJ touch you, how were you going to let a wrinkly old man that smelled like cigars even breathe anywhere near you? Join a strip club. Just dance, no touching. But there was no guarantee that would get you enough money. Get another job. You were already exhausted as it was, but getting another job was the only thing that made any logical sense to you. That meant less time with JJ and the Pogues, less time with Kid. What would you be sacrificing by getting a second job? Any chance at a real relationship with JJ, sure. But you would also be distancing yourself from the only family you had ever known. Was it worth it? Leaving Kid at the house even longer just so you could make more money? A few more fantastical ideas passed through your dreams; join a mob, become a high class thief, murder your dad in the middle of the night and inherit his money, marry fast and marry rich. You were ten times more inclined to kill your dad than marry any of the rich pricks that lived on Kildare Island, but still, murder was risky and you couldn’t chance getting put away and leaving Kid on his own. Even as you sat beside Kid now, all you could think about was getting him away from your dad. When rain started to pitter against your window, your heart lept at of your chest. Your dad wasn’t home yet and if the hurricane hit now…. Death by hurricane. That was a natural cause and it would still mean you could inherit the money. But you were too young. They would still put you both into foster care. When you first heard the knock at the window, you thought it was just the rain getting harder, but when it came again, your eyebrows pinched together. “JJ?” You stood from the bed, Kid curling his legs up to his chest. To your surprise, and abhorrence, JJ was sitting outside wearing his shorts, muscle t, and backward hat, as if a hurricane wasn’t less than an hour from reaching you. You threw the window open and dragged him inside. He was already soaked to the bone. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ran back to your bed to grab a few blankets.    “I wanted to talk to you, but the phones are down,” he said, smiling despite the trembling in his body. “Phones are down already?” You threw the blankets around his shoulders, rubbing your hands up and down his arms in hopes of warming him up. “They shut ‘em off I think,” he said, walking in a small circle before sitting on the floor. “JJ, you have to get home. You’ll freeze to death out there.” “Kie drove me.” “Kiara’s out there?” You ran to the window. To your amazement, Kie’s car was in fact parked outside your window. You could barely see her through the rain, but you waved anyway. “Listen,” JJ said, standing. “We’re all going out on the Pogue tomorrow once Agatha moves on. You’re coming.” 

“I can’t.” “Come on! There will be loads of fish and-” “JJ, I really can’t. Not when-” You glanced over at Kid, who was trying not to watch the two of you interact. “My dad will be staying home tomorrow and he’ll expect us to help him clean up whatever damage the storm does. There’s no way I’ll be able to sneak out unnoticed.” “I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said, putting a hand against your neck. “For a good reason.” He scowled his smile fading as he dropped his hand back against his side. “No, not….I just mean that I can’t be doing anything risky right now. Please, tell me you understand.” “Yeah, no, I understand.” He started to back toward the window. You ran a hand over your face, squeezing your eyes shut. “JJ-” “No, Ellie, I understand.” JJ pulled the blankets off of his shoulders and lay them over the back of a chair. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”    “Yeah.” JJ pulled the window open and crawled back out into the pouring rain. You stood in the middle of your room, face in your hands. “Are you not going because of me?” Kid asked. You looked up at him and shook your head. You walked over to Kid, feet shuffling on the floor. You knelt to the ground at his feet and took his hands in yours. “I’m not going because there is no way I can get away tomorrow. That’s all,” you said. “Okay?” “But I can cover you!” Kid said. “I can help-” “No, Kid!” You squeezed his hands, giving yourself a second to calm down. “Kid, you never have to cover for me, okay? If Dad ever asks where I am and you tell him.” “But we always come up with a plan.”    “No more plans, Kid. If I am gone, you tell dad that I’m out with JJ, alright? You tell him that,” you said. “I don’t understand. Why?” “Because-” Because then he’ll want to kill me and not you. “Because it would be better for both of us. You never have to cover for me, Kid. My actions are my own. That means the consequences are mine, too.” Kid nodded his head slowly. It was clear to him that he still didn’t understand completely what you were saying, but that was good. You didn’t want him to. A crack of thunder startled both of you. Half a millisecond later, you saw the flash of lightning. You crawled back into your bed, holding Kid close to you. The wind beat against your house, rain pelting it from all sides. With every new thunderclap, you could feel Kid flinch beneath you. You squeezed your eyes tight, running your fingers through Kid’s hair in hopes to get him to fall asleep.    The light above you flickered, sparked, and went out with a pop. Kid gasped, burying his face between your neck and the pillow. “Shh,” you whispered, rubbing his back as you looked at the lightbulb above. “You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

There was no power when you woke up. Checking your phone, there was no service. It wasn’t as if you expected there to be, but still, you had hoped. Kid was still asleep a few inches away from you. You had no idea what time it was, but from the position of the sun it couldn’t have been much later seven. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, yawning, and stretching your stiff muscles. You opened your door, peering out into the empty house. “Dad?” You called. You remembered that he hadn’t been home when you fell asleep. He could have very well died out there- “Down here!” Your heart plummeted. You peered over the railing down to the foyer. Your dad was surrounded by a sea of candles, none of them lit. “You wanna help me put these around?” You started down the stairs, the chill of the wood shocking your bare feet. As you rounded the bottom of the stairs, you saw that your dad was smiling. “Don’t you think this is overkill on the candles?” You asked. “The generators will be on soon and we won’t need them.” Your dad picked up one of the candles, admiring it for all its generic whiteness. “What else would we do with them?” “There are going to be people all over without power, especially in the cut. I think if I could just take some over-” Your dad stood suddenly and you took a few steps back, flinching. “I don’t want you on the south side of this island ever, Elma, do you understand me?” “Dad, there are people over that need help-” “No! All those people are lazy, useless people who do nothing but drag this island into the mud. They don’t deserve anything from us.” Your eyes began to swim with tears, chest heaving. “How can you say that?” You asked, breathless. “Mom always took care of those people when they needed help.” “Don’t bring up your mother right now.” “She would never have let those people go without light or food.” If you pushed hard enough you might just get him to listen to you. “You don’t want to disappoint her, do you?” Your dad sighed, looking down at the candles. “You’re right,” he said finally. He stepped over them and pulled you into an embrace. “I love that you’re always thinking of other people, Elma. Your mother would be so proud.” Your nose burned, lips trembling. It was hard to say that you missed the woman who abandoned you and Kid with the man that hurt you, but missing your mother felt like a different matter. In your mind, you could sometimes separate them. The woman who gave food the poor for no charge and stepped in between you and your father many times was not the same woman who forced you to get rid of your child and then left alone. When your dad finally let you go, he pressed his lips to your head. You tried to pretend it was a gentle and loving motion, but it didn’t stop your heart from pounding uncomfortably in your chest. “I’ll pack these into the car and take them to the cut. Get your brother up, will you? Start working on cleaning up outside.” “Sure, Dad,” you said, tucking your hands into your back pockets. “I love you, kiddo.” 

“Love you, too, Dad.” 

After helping your dad pack the candles into his car, you spent the next hour attempting to make Kid breakfast before he woke up. There were a few pancakes that you could salvage to take up to him. He was still asleep when you walked upstairs, the stack of pancakes in your hand. Instead of waking him, you left the pancakes on your desk and went back downstairs. 

Stepping outside, you heaved out a heavy sigh. Agatha had really done her damage. 

“Hell hath no fury,” you mumbled to yourself as you bent down to pick up some trash. After another hour, consisting of you picking through the damage and trying to figure out was salvageable, Kid came outside, fully dressed and ready for the day. “What can I do?” He asked, scanning the yard. “Just start by picking up trash, if you could. I think that’s the best place to start,” you said. “Okay.” Kid ran over to you, pulling on your arm, and kissed your cheek. “Thanks for the pancakes.” 

You beamed. 

“No problem, Kid.” He scampered off to get a trash bag. Shaking your head, you turned back to your work. By the time your dad returned, most of the smaller trash had been picked up and larger things that were no longer usable were in another pile. “Hey, Elma!” Your dad said as he climbed out of his car. “Yeah?” You stood up, wiping sweat from your forehead. “I just spoke to Ward Cameron. Do you remember Ms. Lana and Scooter?” Your dad asked, walking over to you with his hands on his hips. You nodded your head, pulling off your work gloves. “Course.” “Well, Scooter hasn’t been seen since yesterday.” “Scooter’s missing?” “Not missing,” your dad said, putting his hands up. “Just...they don’t know where he is. Ms. Lana is going to come over in a bit. I want you to have some food ready for her, make her comfortable, alright? Scooter was a good friend of mine, Elma, don’t mess this up.” No pressure. You walked back into the house and quickly changed out of your sweaty clothes into something cleaner. Heading back downstairs, you wondered what you could make that wouldn’t require cooking anything. Salad and sandwiches made the most sense to you. You could bring some out for Dad and Kid but also keep some inside for you and Ms. Lana. You also put on a pot of water for tea. You pulled the honey out of the cupboard and turned it over in your hands. You had never actually been allergic to honey. It was one of your favorite things, especially in tea. But when you came home after a heavy make-out session at a party that was supposed to be just a small slumber party with red and swollen lips, you had to make something up. Your mom had been mildly allergic to tea, and when she had it in her honey, it made her lips swell in a similar way. Ever since, you had to keep up the lie. Still, you drank honey in your tea when you could sneak it around your dad. You finished the sandwiches and brought two out for your brother and your dad, which they both took gratefully. Just before you went back inside, you saw Ms. Lana pull up in her car. You jogged over to her car as it rolled to a stop. She got out with a weak smile. “Ms. Lana.” “Hello, El, darling.” You pulled Ms. Lana into a hug. “Would you like to come inside? I just finished making lunch and some tea,” you offered. Ms. Lana gave you a watery smile and nodded her head. “Hi, Ms. Lana!” Kid shouted, waving his hand over his head. 

“Hello, Ford,” Ms. Lana replied. A smile pulled at your lips. Kid had been in love with the movie actor Harrison Ford since he was little. He tried to get everyone to call him Ford, wanting to take after his idol, but Ms. Lana was the only one who actually did. Even today, it still made your brother grin. You were glad that Ms. Lana was still somehow able to make your brother happy. “Lana,” your dad said, walking over to her with a sympathetic look in his eyes that almost made you cringe. “Gerald,” she said, shaking his hand. “He’ll turn up,” your dad told her. Ms. Lana sniffed, nodding her head slowly. You reached out and linked your arm in hers. “Let’s get you some food,” you said. Having a conversation with Ms. Lana was always a special treat that you took advantage of when you could. Your dad and Scooter had been friends for a long while, but Ms. Lana and your mother had been even tighter. Whenever your dad said anything about the cut, Ms. Lana and Scooter were always excluded. They weren’t like the “others”. They were civilized. Or so your dad said. 

But Ms. Lana held wisdom that you were always grateful to listen to. She understood you like very few others did. She could hear you screaming even when you said nothing. She didn’t know anything about how your father treated you or the true reason behind your mother’s departure, but she still cared. Sometimes, that was all you needed. Ms. Lana had you laughing after only a few sips of your tea. She was like the sun personified, light and laughter emulating from her with every word, every step. But for the past few months, that light had dimmed. The light she radiated was forced. You could feel it especially now. “How did finals go?” She asked. You smiled behind your teacup. “Ended with all A’s.” “That’s my girl!” Ms. Lana said, giving you a high five. “I know that you were stressed about that math class of yours.” 

“Ugh, yeah, it was tough, but I did it.” “No cheating?” “Do I look like the kind of person who would cheat?” “You are your father’s daughter.” You hated what that insinuated. You took a large gulp of tea, letting the heat scald your throat. “So,” Ms. Lana said, tapping your knee with hers. “Have any boys caught your eye?” You coughed at the sudden question, the tea in your mouth spilling out back into your cup. “I’m sorry?” “I’m going to take that as a yes.” A mischievous smile graced Ms. Lana’s face. It was a real smile, a hint of true light shining through the darkness. You couldn’t take that away from her by shutting her question down. “You have to promise not to say anything to my dad,” you said, leaning forward. “You know how he is about boys.” 

“Oh, a secret affair.” Ms. Lana raised an eyebrow and your face turned red. “I won’t say a word.” “Alright.” You leaned in a little bit closer, afraid of your voice carrying. “There is a boy that I have been sneaking out to see occasionally.” “What’s his name?” “Now, Ms. Lana, that is dangerous information. We could both get in a lot of trouble.” “I see. I understand.” Ms. Lana tapped the side of her nose with her finger. “But I’m going to take a wild guess here and say that he isn’t from this side of the island.” 

Against your attempts to stay completely unphased, your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. When Ms. Lana let out a knowing laugh, you tried to hide your red face in your palms, a laugh of your own escaping your lips. 

“That’s very Romeo and Juliet of you, Miss El,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. “I hope it ends better than that,” you said, dropping your hands back into your lap. “Have no fear, my girl, I won’t say a word to your father.” Ms. Lana put a hand over yours. “And if you ever need a cover, you are more than welcome to use my name.” 

You felt yourself smile, eyes watery. You leaned off of your chair, wrapping your arms around the woman’s neck. She startled for a moment, but then put an arm around your back. You tried not to sob into her shoulder right there and then. “I’ve got you, darling,” she whispered. “Thank you.” “What’s going on here?” You pulled away instantly at the sound of your father’s voice. You wiped away a small stray tear as Ms. Lana smiled up at your dad. “I just needed a hug,” Ms. Lana said. “I hope my daughter isn’t keeping you from eating anything,” your dad said, looking at the untouched sandwiches and salad bowls. “Nonsense, Gerald.” Ms. Lana waved her hand through the air. “Spending some girl time with El here was just what I needed to calm my nerves.” “That’s good to hear.” Ms. Lana sent you a knowing look as your father sat down. You tried to hide a smile. She left not much later with the sandwich wrapped in plastic and a tupperware of salad. “Are you sure I can’t give you more?” You asked as you helped her to the car. “Child, you have already done so much for me. This is enough,” Ms. Lana said. “I’ll see you soon, Ms. Lana.” “I’ll see you soon.” Watching her drive away, arms crossed over your stomach, reminded you of the day your mother left. You were used to screaming and dishes being thrown, but the sound of your mother crying in the dead of night? That wasn’t something you had numbed yourself to. Despite everything, you had never seen her cry. She was the strongest woman that you knew. You hadn’t been able to sleep, the pain in your stomach and your heart far too great. You felt disgusted with yourself, your own silent tears running from your eyes. When you heard her sobbing, you sat up, slowly. Your dad had gone to bed hours ago after a long fight with your mom, but you still crept by his room on your way down the stairs. When you got to the dining room, you found your mother fully dressed at the dining table, a suitcase by her side. Her head was in her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. You knew immediately that she was leaving. Tears sprang into your eyes and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “Mom?” She gasped and looked up at you. When she used to look at you, there was always love in her eyes, always a smile on her face, but now there was only one thing in her eyes; disgust. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, voice breaking with every word, tears and makeup running down her cheeks. “I’m your mother! Why didn’t you tell me what he did to you?” The tears in your own eyes started to fall, hands shaking by your side. You were 14. How were you supposed to tell her what your dad had done? “God!” Your mother stood, grabbing the suitcase. “Mom?” You watched her walk right past you, but you felt frozen where you were. “Mom!” She threw open the door and paused for just a moment, taking one last look at you, before walking out. She couldn’t just leave you. Not when you needed her the most. You ran to the door, calling after her. You didn’t hear your father’s door open, didn’t hear him thundering down the stairs after you. All you could think of was stopping your mom from leaving. “Mom!” You screamed after her, running down the porch steps. She was already at her car, throwing her suitcase into the back. “Mom, wait!” She slid into the front seat, slamming the door shut just as you reached it. You pounded on the window, begging her to let you in. But she wouldn’t listen, she just cried and turned the car on. “Mom!” You pleaded, tears and sobs nearly choking you. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Don’t leave me!” She pulled the car backward and you jumped away, not wanting to get your toes caught under the tire. You made to run after the car, but before you could get far, your dad grabbed you from behind. 

“She’s gone, kiddo,” your dad whispered in your ear, but it only made you scream louder. “No! No, Mom!” “Come back inside, Elma,” your dad said, pulling you backward. “No!” You reached out for the car, even though it was long gone. You kicked out your feet as your dad hoisted you off the ground, dragging you back toward the house. “MOM!”

***

Returning from the memory was like bursting through the surface of the water. You were in the same place, Ms. Lana’s car retreating through the trees. You tried to smile and offered one last wave before she disappeared completely. It had been three years since your mother left. You tried to pretend it didn’t hurt anymore, but you would still sit on the porch sometimes when you couldn’t sleep, praying that you would see her car pull onto your lawn. It never did. “Elma! Let’s get back to work.” 

***

You sat in bed later that night, tapping mindlessly on your computer. You were writing the same letter you had been writing for three years. You had written it on paper, thrown it away a million times. You had typed it out, deleting it a million times. It didn’t matter how many times you tried, you could not write the letter you wanted to your mother. Kid and your dad had gone to bed early. The day had been long and gruesome, so you didn’t blame them. You were exhausted, but your mind wouldn’t let you sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was your mother’s tear-stained face, her car pulling away from you without so much as a second a thought. Anger crackled at the tips of your fingers. Who the fuck leaves their two, defenseless children with an abusive asshole? Everyone still spoke so highly of her, as if she wasn’t just as bad as your dad. You slammed your laptop shut, but the little burst of anger was enough to trigger a silent outburst. You threw your computer against your beanbag chair, dropping to the floor. You were about to start pounding your fists into the hard wood when you heard a tap on your window. You looked up, eyes overrun with tears to see JJ peering in at you. You sucked in your lower lip, hanging your head for a moment. When he tapped again, you pushed yourself to your feet and pushed the window before dropping into another chair. “What did he do?” JJ asked, hands curled into fists at his side and his jaw tight as he stared at your door. You shook your head, reaching out to take his hand. JJ turned to you a knelt down on the ground. “What happened?” The anger was gone from him instantly as he looked at you. You shook your head again, feeling like there were a million rocks weighing you down. Instead of answering, you put one arm around his neck, slowly pulling him in as you slid to the ground. He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening until you were kneeling in front of him, both of your arms around his neck. He linked his arms around your back, holding you tight. “What happened?” He asked again. “Babe, you can tell me.” He brushed hair from your face, but you shook your head for the third time, large tears rolling aimlessly from your cheeks. JJ stopped asking you questions, cradling your head as you clung to his shirt. Your breathing shuddered as you tried to calm down. Once the tears stopped flowing like a  river and once you felt like you can breathe normally, you pulled away from JJ, exhausted from all the crying. “Why did you come?” You asked. “I have a bunch to tell you,” he said, lifting your chin. “Today was absolutely bat shit. Plus, we’re having a kegger and I thought you’d want to come.” You tried to smile and met his gaze, your eyes still watery. “I would love to go to a kegger and hear about your bat shit day,” you said.    “Your dad-” “Screw him.” JJ grinned and helped you to your feet. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready,” he said as he led you to the window. You nodded your head once. “Let’s just get drunk, yeah?” “I can do that.” 

Taglist -  @bitterbethany​​ @lovelymaybankk​​ @ilymarkchan​​ @downbytheouterbanks​​ @clearcolourlessglass​​ @obxwriterfan​​ @tangledinsparkles​​ @chill-sushi

[ikenbar]

Mr Love: Ike’s Choice CH 5 PT 1

Author’s Note:

Chapter five baby!! This is gonna be a fun one!! It is chock-full of fluff, angst, adventure, and thickening plot!! Only the best for Ikamara’s story B) I plan on taking lines straight from the game in this story. Normally I would make annotations but, after rereading the parts I have done that with, I have noticed that they can distract from the story. And because I have a lot of lines from the game in the coming chapters, I am just going to put the reference to the stages in the warning. If you have a problem with this, send me a message! Though I do write Ikamara’s story for myself, I also want to make the experience as pleasurable for any one reading as possible.

Thank you so much for the love and support for my story! Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here and would like to be familiar with the story!! :D

Enjoy Chapter Five!! :D

- Ike ‘n Bar Productions

Warnings: Words taken directly from Stage 8-1 from the game Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice, there is also FLUFF!!!, sad children, ~✨🌈Gayness🌈✨~, and plot development that makes you  beg for more but are sadly left on yet aNOTHER cliffhanger :D

Prologue:

>>

The man in the white lab coat walked behind Marie as they made their way back down that familiarly dank hallway. They were quiet but that didn’t mean Marie would have it any other way. From all the medical talk and strange languages they spoke, silence seemed like the only thing she could understand anymore. 

They came to a stop in front of a door. He opened it and gestured for Marie to go in. She timidly did so, allowing him to close it shut behind her and lock it. It was a simple room with two beds. Not much there but it was enough. 

In one of the beds sat Marie’s roommate, and best friend. Normally the girl would be smiling and greet Marie with open arms, but today, she was just sitting on the bed, crying. Immediately, Marie ran to her side.

“What’s wrong?” Marie’s squeaky voice made the girl jump. She hurriedly wiped her eyes.

“Nothing.” The girl mumbled.

“Oh come on.” Marie jumped onto the bed and next to the girl, “You can’t say that right after wiping away tears.”

“...it’s just that.” The girl slowly began, “...I’m tired of the testing. I’d just wish they’d stop pricking us with those needles. You’re so lucky. Your skin is so thick, you don’t need needles.”

“Nah, I still get the needles.” Marie kicked her feet over the bed and kept her eyes on the ground, “I just have a special kind that's bigger.” The girl sighed and leaned on her shoulder.

“I just feel so…” The girl started, gesturing her hands uselessly, “... not safe.” Marie tensed slightly.

“You shouldn’t.” She said, making the girl look up at her, “You’ve got me! I will always protect you.” The girl smiled weakly.

“You promise?” She asked. Marie nodded seriously as she drew an ‘x’ on over her heart.

“Cross my heart.” She smiled. The girl sat up and threw her arms around Marie. Marie reciprocated the hug, making the girl laugh. The girls held their hug, indulging in the security of it.

“When we get out,” The girl said softly, “and we are no longer in danger, will you still protect me?" Marie held the little girl closer to her.

“Youri,” Marie said the girl’s name seriously, “There won’t be a moment where I will leave your side.”

>>

Chapter five:

Part one:

>>

I waited anxiously in my seat, tapping the mug of coffee in my hand. Youran and I had spent the past week talking and getting to know each other. In fact, there wasn't a day that had passed that we didn't talk. It surprised me how easy it was to talk with her. It was like we had clicked, becoming friends almost instantly. Almost as if we had already been friends before.

 I had even told Youran about my family. Though I addressed them as my biological family instead of my foster family. I didn’t want her asking questions about my life as a foster child. Not because I didn’t want to answer them but because I knew that, if she asked, I would tell her everything.

 It was strange to me. Never in my life had I been so open to anyone like that. It was almost suspicious. But every time I spoke to Youran, the suspicions left my mind. I would get this immense calm all over my body. It was something I had never experienced before. Something only she could give me.

But the suspicions and doubts were back. I met this woman while I'm being targeted and I just trusted her?! Just like that?! Plus, wasn't it weird that I feel so strange around her? Not to mention I had dreams about her right before meeting her! Could she have been someone from my past? Someone that wants me dead? One thing was for sure, waiting for her was a dumb idea. Especially if it meant potentially getting hurt. I still hadn't healed fully from Montu's attack last week. Waiting there like a sitting duck was a terrible way to get killed.

As I moved to stand from my seat, a chime came from the front door, making me look up. Youran pushed through the door, clearly in distress. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail that fell just above a vibrant sundress that brought out her light brown eyes. She seemed to have put on some light makeup as well, my eyes being drawn to her flushed cheeks and glossy lips.

 Panting slightly, Youran scanned the café until her eyes landed on mine. She smiled brightly. And, just like that, my suspicions vanished once again as that calm hit me like a truck. She came running over to me. "Ike!" Youran threw her arms around me, nearly toppling me over, "I hope you weren’t waiting long! I am so sorry I'm late. I slept through my alarm."

“It’s no problem.” I patted her head gently, “It happens. Besides, I... just got here. So you’re fine.”

“Great!” Youran jumped back and clapped her hands together, “Give me one second to order a drink then we can start hanging out!” I smiled and nodded. Hanging out? What are we, teenagers… she sure made me feel that way. 

Youran smile brightened in return. She turned on her heel and hurried to the front counter. I watched her as she left. She looked cute with her hair up like-

I shook my head and dropped that stupid absent minded smile. What am I doing? Wasn’t I about to leave?! I cursed under my breath and held a hand up to my mouth. She did it to me again! How does she just change me like that? There has got to be a malice reason behind it…

After a moment’s hesitation, I stole another glance at Youran. She was looking at the menu intently, tapping her chin with her finger thoughtfully.

… Well... since I'm already here…

I took my seat again, sighing as I picked up my now cold, and nearly empty, cup of coffee. After waiting a minute longer, Youran came running back to the table. “Ok!” She said, taking a seat in front of me, “How are you?”

She seems so happy to see me...

“I’m good.” I smiled, “How are you?”

“I’m great!” She giggled, “Having coffee together was such a great idea! I feel like we only know each other through a phone screen.” I hummed in agreement as a barista walked over to us.

“Refill, mam?” She asked me politely. I looked at Youran.

“... Yeah.” I sighed, lifting my cup to her, “Fill ‘er up.” The barista complied. Once she had left, I sparked a conversation, "How’s the company, Youran?”

“Excellent thanks to your help.” Youran sighed, “Victor had little to nothing to correct from the report, all thanks to your edits. Of course, he guessed almost immediately that you had been the reason behind it.”

“Yeah, Victor’s smart like that.” I sighed, spinning my newly filled cup of coffee absentmindedly.

“What about you?” Youran leaned on the table and looked at me expectantly, “How’s Ike ‘n Bar Productions?”

“Not bad. We actually start filming a new tv show today. Bart’s already heading over now to scope it out.”

“Ooo! Nice! Who’s the cast?” Youran egged.

“Nope.” I deadpanned, “Not revealing anything until it airs.” I looked up from my cup and caught Youran glaring at me. She had her cheeks puffed out and her bottom lip over lapping the top one. I smirked. She was so cute when she was angry. “Alright, alright. You can come to the viewing party.”

“Really??” Youran beamed, making the pout I saw a distant memory.

“Yeah.” I sighed,  “Why not?” Youran cheered and clapped her hands, sending a warm feeling in my chest.

“Oh! But watch out! You may not be able to get through the production so easily!” Youran’s voice sounded like she was telling a ghost story. She added her fingers waving in the air for extra spooky flavor. I arched my eyebrow.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, amused by her childish behavior. Youran leaned forward slightly and spoke in a harsh whisper, “Did you hear about that hacker that has been attacking the web?” My brows furrowed slightly. A widespread internet paralysis broke out in Loveland that week. It affected all websites in the city. On every homepage there was a signature by a hacker named ‘Key.’ “Apparently, there was word of the hacker affecting cell phones as well.” Youran continued, “Hacking into your phone and stealing emails and personal information.” I rolled my eyes.

“Hogwash.” I sighed, “It’s just people speculating and stirring up a commotion. Don’t think about it too much.” Youran nodded and took a sip from her drink. Though she agreed with me, I could still see worry knitted in her eyebrows. I instinctively reached out and brushed them. Youran looked at me surprised. I felt my face flush as I quickly retracted my hand. 

“Sorry.” I stammered, covering my face with my hand, “You just… You have nothing to worry about. So you shouldn’t hold your face like that.”

“I don’t?” Youran asked, innocently.

“Of course not.” I said simply, avoiding eye contact and looking back into my cup, “Like I said, this is all speculation. This ‘Key’ is probably trying to make a name for himself. Pushing however hard he can to get people to notice him. You’ll be ok.”

“...And ...If I’m not?” Youran asked sheepishly.

“I’ll protect you.”

 I froze. Those words fell from my mouth without me realizing it. They came so easily to me. As if I had said it a million times to her before...

Youran placed a hand on top of mine. I looked up at her. She was smiling sweetly at me.

“Thank you.” She said, softly. Her eyes sparkled, showing me she meant her thanks. I looked down. Her hands are so cold… I twisted my hand to hold Youran’s. “... Did you get your nails done?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah!” Youran shone brightly as she leaned forward, “I had them draw little pandas on them! Aren’t they cute??”

“Adorable.” I ran my thumb over her nails gently, a soft smile settling on my face, “Adri has been wanting to get her nails done. You’ll have to tell me the name of the place you went to.”

“Oh! How is Adri doing?” Youran asked, pulling her hand away to clap her hands together, “Wasn’t today her first day at her new highschool?” I opened my mouth but was cut off by a buzzing that came from my blazer pocket. I pulled out my phone and looked at the collar ID. Ho boy. “ Speak of the devil.” I looked up to Youran, “Do you mind?” She shook her head and smiled politely. I thanked her and stood up.. after making sure I was out of earshot, I answered the call.

“Speaking.” I said resoundly.

“Hello?” The principal of Loveland Lake High, Mr. Olson answered seriously. He still sounded the same as he did when I attended that school, if not a little more warily, “Is this Ike?”

“What did Sam do now?” I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

Mr. Olson chuckled, “Ah, about that. It isn’t Sam I’m calling for this time. It’s Adrienne.” I froze.

“What happened?”

“Our new student was called to my office for cursing at her teacher and starting a riot in the classroom.” I groaned, “She has been suspended starting immediately. I tried calling Maria and Bart but neither of them picked up.”

“Maria is at a doctor’s appointment for Lola and Bart is at a shoot that I have to meet him at in less than an hour.” I checked my watch. “Are you sure Adri has to start today? Can’t she just sit in the corner and think about what she has done?”

“I’m afraid not.” Mr. Olson chuckled. I sighed and held my face in my hand.

“...fine. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Ike. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. Adri on the other hand will be receiving a solid talking to that may make her into a saint…. I’ll see you soon. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone and growled to myself as I walked back into the cafe. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go.” I said as I approached Youran, “I have to go pick up my sister early from school.”

“Oh no.” Youran’s smile fell into a look of worry, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.” I grumbled, stretching my jaw to stop it from clenching, “My sister is just a jerk to the underpaid.” I sighed, “The school is fifteen minutes away. By the time I pick her up and take her home, I’ll have to go to a shoot. I’m really sorry.” Youran shook her head and smiled at me.

“It’s nothing you couldn’t help. I understand.” She said this with a sweet smile but there was no denying the disappointment behind her eyes. I clenched my hands into fists inside my pockets. It felt as if I had a string attached to my chest that prevented me from just leaving Youran there, making it nearly impossible to leave her side.

“... Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Youran looked shocked by my sudden question.

“No!” She answered quickly.

“Good. Don’t make any. We can finish chatting then. And it’ll be on me. To make up for bailing today.”

“But I was late!” Youran quickly jumped to stop me, “I’ll pay!”

“I really didn’t care that you were late. I can-”

“But I do!” Youran puffed out her cheeks stubbornly. Though normally, the stubbornness of others angered me, she still somehow pulled a smile out of me.

 “Fine. You can give me a ride there to make up for your tardiness. How does that sound?” I asked, lightly arching my brows. Youran nodded, her smile returning. “Good. I’ll text you the location of the shoot and you can pick me up from there.”

“Right!” Youran said, determinately. 

“See you tonight then.” I said. I hesitated a moment, then gave her a quick pat on the head. Youran giggled, bringing a sharp blush to my cheeks. Not willing to let her see it, I quickly started walking to the door.

“See you!” She said, waving to me as I left. I waved back as I pushed through the door, making the chimes tinkle melodiously. I felt a warm smile spread across my cheeks as I walked to the car. Youran was so sweet and caring to me. It was a kind of warmth I hadn’t felt since... My smile fell slightly. 

… I have never felt that kind of sweetness before... 

Why did it seem so familiar?

(Next)

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

“Why did Hondo want everyone in today?” She asks as she walks in right behind Luca. He sits in the last available chair, leaving her searching for a seat. Swiping Luca’s elbows from his knees, she perches on his knees. They kept their work life very professional; so professional in fact, that no one knew they’d been dating for a year.

“I’m not sure.” Street shrugs. Luca’s long arms rest on her shoulders very relaxed.

“You two should date. Wouldn’t they be cute?” Cortez points as she walks in with Hondo, smiling at Ann with a knowing smile.

“Look more like friends to me.” Street shrugs, tapping Ann’s shoulder with a chuckle.

“Alright, sorry for ruining your days off. We’ve got a problem downtown. There’s a foster agency being held up. A dad looking for his son. The son’s been placed in a good home, dad’s abusive. They guy has shot two of the workers and is holding twelve other kids hostage. These are kids. You guys know, we gotta save ‘em. Gear up, Black Betty in ten minutes.” The team disappeared, congregating five minutes later dressed and ready to go. As they roll towards the agency, her heart thundered. The team loved children, and for children to be in danger whose worlds have already been turned upside down isn’t right.

“Luca, Ann take the left side, wait for my signal. Chris, Street take the right. Keep each other safe. Tan and Deacon are going through the back to escort the kids out.” Hondo directs his team as they break off. She and Luca head to the left side door. She enters first on Hondo’s go and sees a little girl, holding a finger to her lips. “I’ll be back baby.” She assures and continues on, signaling one person in that room, a kid. Once everyone’s in position, Hondo starts talking to the guy. They needed the man distracted so she could get to the two kids in the closet right behind him. At the closet door, she ushers the first little girl out and Luca gets her safely out. The second one starts to cry loudly and catches the man’s attention.

“Honey listen to me. This vest is gonna protect you okay? You put this on and hold it tight. You see that guy at the door? He’s gonna get you out safely. Okay? Hold onto your super vest and run.” She assures, giving her Kevlar to the little girl. With a confident smile, the little girl takes off towards Luca, who could no longer see Ann.

“Did that nice lady give you this?” He asks, eyes falling on the Kevlar. His heart stopped. His sweet girlfriend was in there alone, no Kevlar. “Hondo, Ann gave the little girl her Kevlar.” He stammers, a cold sweat on his forehead. He was so scared. A few shots echoed, and Tan comes out with a kid draped over his shoulder and shouting about a bus. Luca stalked back and forth, hands shaking at his sides, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Ann took her chance to jump on the guy, knocking him and his gun to the ground. She felt a sting of a gunshot, but she didn’t think another second about it. The adrenaline kept her moving as she strutted out the front of the building with the man. Luca heaves a huge sigh, sprinting to her, handing off the man and gripping her in a hug.

“Holy christ. You gave up your Kevlar? Why?” He digs, giving her a concerned look.

“She was too scared. Anyway, let’s go home. I need some Netflix.” She chuckles, holding her side as she got into Black Betty. She nodded off on the ride back, suddenly exhausted. No one found it exceptionally strange because she often fell asleep on the ride. Luca was the last one out, offering to grab her.

“Hey, hey you ready babes?” He hushes, shaking her shoulder.

“Yeah.” She whispers, standing and making her way into the car.

Once they were home, she went out onto the balcony with a glass of whiskey and started to inspect her injury. It still burnt pretty badly, like a hundred bees were stinging her, and she was so tired.

“Shit.” She murmurs, grabbing at her side when she saw the hole in her stomach.

“Babe?” She was dizzy, her heart hammering in her chest as she grabbed the railing to steady herself. Blood was never her strong suit. She had totally forgotten she’d given her vest up. She never once thought that she’d been shot. With a dizzying stumble for the chair, she trips over the table leg and the low railing on the north side had her falling over the ledge and landing flat on her back on the ground below. Staring up at the sky, she felt her heart slowly quit beating.

“Babe?” Luca thought he’d seen her on the balcony. Actually he was sure he’d seen her on the balcony. She’d been acting super strange since her arrest today. She appeared to be in a lot of pain, but she didn’t say anything. He looked across their little balcony, it’s emptiness was odd. A shriek lets out from the ground. Luca looks over the edge to find Ann sprawled like a rag doll tossed aside. His feet carried him to her, his heart ramming against his chest as he dropped to his knees. Hauling her into his lap he calls for an ambulance. People began coming from their houses.

“It’s okay babe. It’s okay. I love you. Hold on, baby. Help is coming.” He sobs, rocking her. His heart imploded, he couldn’t breathe. His whole world was lying still in his arms. He sobbed and cried until the ambulance showed up.

“Luca, Luca, let go. Let go.” Hondo whispers, pulling Luca away from her as the ambulance loaded her up and took her away. The wailing sirens slowly faded, but Luca’s heart was still jamming.

He couldn’t breathe.

Ann.

His sweet, loving girlfriend.

His favorite person.

The love of his life.

His angel.

Hondo watched as the zombie that Luca became wandered into the house for the keys to his bike.

“Luca! Let me drive you.” Hondo leads him to his car and they head for the hospital.

One hour.

Two hours.

Three hours.

“Family of Ann?” Luca jumped to his feet and ran to the doctor, his eyes bloodshot and puffy. “She’s suffered a few dislocated vertibrae and shoulder, a fractured ulna, and she suffered a concussion. She will be fine, given how badly she’s fought already.

“Can I see her?” Luca drives, nose twitching back and forth as he sniffs to keep from crying more. With a hesitant look, the doctor nods.

“She’s currently in a coma. Medically induced to give her body a chance to heal. It should only be about a week or two before she can wake up an get moving. We also found a gunshot wound we treated from earlier. Do you know how that happened?” Luca’s eyes drifted down the hall as they got to her room.

“Yeah, she’s SWAT. She tackled a guy in a house full of kids and got shot. She gave a little girl her Kevlar so she’d feel safe enough to leave the house.

“Wow, she sounds like a real hero.”

“Yeah.” He hushes, letting the doctor lead the way.

“Mister Luca, don’t be concerned at the amount of cords and wires. It’s all protocol.” The doctor informs as they head into the room. Luca’s eyes land on her and he stumbles, falling to the floor.

“Oh christ baby. I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

He went home and sat on the couch, cuddling her pillow against his body.

Luca found it harder to breathe as he walked into SWAT. He only thought about her.

“Luca? Go home.” Cortez calls from the doorway.

“No, I wanna—“

“You’re not sound. Please go home.” Luca hangs his head and nods.

Once at home alone, he filters through his memories like a movie. When the memory of her lying on the ground hits him, he folds against the pressure and collapses on the couch. A blanket they often shared during movie night falls into his lap and he hugs it, bawling so hard his breaths come out in gasps.

“I’m so sorry.” He cries, trying to stand only to hit the floor.

Two months passed like years, Luca found it hard to even get up ten minutes before work.

“Luca!” Chris shouts as she sprints into the squad room, grabbing the blonde’s arm and dragging him out of SWAT. Shoving him in the car, Street floors it towards the hospital.

“What’s going on?” Luca shouts. No one responds as Street hits the siren and lights as they fly into the hospital parking lot. “You guys, please tell me what’s going on?” He begs, his voice wavering.

“Come on!” Chris shouts as Deacon and Hondo fly up next to them. The team disembarks and starts towards the hospital. Luca sprints with the team, still confused. They run through the hospital, shouting ‘gimme two gimme two’ as they get to her room. Luca was so confused and scared. Everyone was so serious.

“Luca! Open that door!” Hondo calls, waving to her door. Luca flicks open the door, everyone filing in. Luca’s last. “Right side clear!” Hondo calls.

“Left side clear!” Street shouts.

“Target sighted!” Deacon calls, grinning at her with everyone else.

“Luca! Take down the target!” Chris shouts, and Luca slips through the crowd to find her sitting up in bed. Grinning and reaching for him.

“Holy shit.” He whispers, hands reaching for her and tears filling his eyes, throat thick with tears.

“Hi Dom.” She whispers as he hugs tightly to her.

“Baby. Holy shit.” He whimpers, gripping handfuls of her gown in his hands and hugging tightly.

“You guys are so silly.” She giggles, giving each team member a hug.

“You almost look ready to come back.” Hondo chuckles.

“Oh no. No she’s not getting anywhere near SWAT for a while.” Luca barks, holding her against him. He hadn’t quit crying the whole time. Tears still streaked his face as he held her. “I love you so much, Ann. You can’t ever do some crazy shit like that again. Do you understand?” He warns against her hair, his nose pressed right above her ear.

“I love you too, babes.” She giggles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@annluca hey boo!! Hope this is okay!! I’m so sorry it took so long! I’ve been trying to find the right way to write this, and I wrote a few different scenarios but this one came out the best. Hope you like it!! Thank you for the request!!

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Bonus Chapter: Last Name

Cinder released an enormous sigh, turning over so she rested on her back. She was at the Crown’s house— or really, mansion— to visit Rikan with Kai for Labor Day weekend. The place was surprisingly cosy despite the large spaciousness of it, and Cinder had found herself resting on an enormous couch with a view of the backyard. She could see assorted fruit trees and a worn, rusted water fountain. It was beautiful and serene, but Cinder’s heart felt tumultuous.

She stared up at the ceiling, willing the blank white canvas to make a decision for her, but it made no response to her silent pleas.

Over eight months had passed since she had banished her mother to the Gray Realm— eight months since Kai had died. They had both had long recoveries ahead of them, filled with skin grafting and physical therapy. But everything had turned out alright. They were alive and together, and that was all Cinder needed.

It was strange to her how fast her life had changed. In almost no time at all she’d gone from being a girl with no friends, living a life of constant loneliness and despair to having an outpouring of love in her life. It was almost overwhelming at times. She had never before been so well-cared for.

“You okay?”

Cinder turned her gaze from the ceiling and found Kai standing in the doorway. She wasn’t entirely sure what one would call the room she currently occupied (she wasn’t up to date on snobby rich people terms), but there was a marvelous grand piano in the corner and a bookshelf full of sheet music. The two red velvet couches in the room resided adjacent to the marvelous instrument.

“Mhmm,” Cinder hummed as Kai sat down beside her feet. He pulled her legs— both the real one and the prosthetic— into his lap, pinching her toes softly despite her socks. She closed her eyes, reveling in his touch.

“How was the business call?” Cinder asked, reaching to the back of her head and pulling the elastic out of her hair. It was a complete mess of brown tangles, but she didn’t particularly care. It went well with the old baggy t-shirt and gray sweatpants she had borrowed from Kai.

“Oh, you know, just chummy,” Kai said. He heaved a great sigh. “It’s just all the same stuff, y’know?” He bit his lower lip in contemplation, and Cinder couldn’t help but draw closer to him.

He had often expressed his frustrations with the company with her— something that he had never done with anyone else aside from Thorne. Not even Kai’s father knew his own disdain for the business, and while Cinder had encouraged him to tell him, Kai had never taken her advice. It was the family duty after all; something that Cinder would never understand.

Cinder settled herself beside Kai, wrapping her arms around his middle and placing her head on his shoulder. His body curled to meet hers, pulling her closer despite his nice dress clothes. She breathed him in, smiling at the distinctly Kai scent of laundry detergent and chocolate cereal.

“Enough about my troubles,” Kai said, brushing Cinder’s hair back from her face. “What’s got you down? You’ve got that distracted-but-not-in-a-good-way look on your face. Is something up?”

There was an edge of fear in his voice— something that Cinder despised. She knew that it was just his concern for her and her wellbeing, but the fact that he had reason to be cautious around such a subject made her heart ache in a way she couldn’t explain. If only she were simply the girl he had saved from the fire, rather than also being the one whose ghost mother had killed him.

“I want to change my name,” Cinder said.

Kai furrowed his brow, his lips twisting. “I know Thorne teases you about having the name Cinder and having been burned alive a lot, but��”

“My last name,” Cinder corrected. “And my legal name is still Selene, you know. Selene Linh. But I just, I don’t know. I hate every time I get mail and it says ‘Selene Linh’ or I go to the doctor and have to write that down as my name. It just feels wrong. That’s not who I am.”

Kai nodded his head, his eyes alighting on a tree out the window. He had a far off look on his face that Cinder couldn’t quite understand— as if he were thinking back on a distant memory. She had never been one to dwell on the past; she had no reason to, for her past was filled with little joy and innumerable cruelties.

“Do you… do you think it’s a bad idea?” Cinder asked, somewhat agitated. Though Kai was her boyfriend and, as far as she knew, the love of her life, she didn’t think he should have much say in this matter.

“No,” Kai said, the word coming out too fast. He turned his attention back to her, gifting her one of his most heart-stopping smiles. “What names are you thinking?”

“That’s the thing I can’t seem to decide on,” Cinder admitted, easing back once more. “I could become a Blackburn again, though I don’t particularly want to. That’s another name I want left in the past. Maha offered me the Kesley name, but I don’t feel comfortable with that one either.”

In the months since Cinder had banished the ghost of her mother, she’d regained contact with the Kesley family, and even gone out to visit them once. It had been bittersweet, but her old foster parents and even their other son had been kind to her. It was more than she felt she didn't deserve after all she’d done, but the new bond between them gave her soul some sense of peace over the matter.

Cinder heaved a great sigh, burying her face in Kai’s shirt. There was a faint scent of cologne close to his neck, but only enough that Cinder could catch the memory of it. That was one more thing she loved about Kai: his frugal use of cologne— unlike Thorne.

“The problem is,” Cinder murmured into his shirt. “Is that I want to change it, but I just don’t know what I want to change it to, you know? Maybe I should just close my eyes and scroll down a list or something.”

“Gah, don’t do that.” Kai brushed his fingers against her cheek, and Cinder’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. Even after months of being together, she still couldn’t get over the thrill of simply being touched by him. “You could end up with a name like Smith or Johnson or something equally as boring.”

Cinder scrunched her nose. “I would still have veto power. It’s not like I’d automatically go with whatever I chose. But you know… if there was something cool. If it felt right.”

“Or,” Kai said, drawing out the word in a way that a child would pull apart taffy. “You could, um, change your last name to something like…”

She waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she urged him on. “Something like?”

“You could always change it to Crown.” The words spilled from his mouth with the speed and nervousness of a hummingbird’s wings.

“What?”

“I mean,” Kai spluttered. “If you want to. You would have the alliteration thing going for you, which is always a lot of fun. But that’s only if you keep the name Cinder–”

“Slow down,” Cinder cut in. She pulled herself into a sitting position, looking down on Kai and his flustered eyes and red cheeks. “Crown is your last name.”

“I know that.”

“But you want it to be my last name?”

“It was more of an offer for it to be your last name than anything else,” Kai said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as all his nerves seemed to leave him. He sat up, pushing himself to the end of the couch. “Well, actually, it was more of a proposal.”

Cinder’s jaw dropped, unable to comprehend the words that had just come from her boyfriend’s mouth. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Great stars above, she had seen her ghost mother send bolts of fire at her most cherished loved ones, yet somehow the words coming out of Kai’s mouth managed to astonish her into speechlessness.

“I think I messed that up,” Kai said, a shadow of doubt converging across his features. He scratched behind his ear, something that Cinder had come to recognize as a nervous tick. “Can I start over again?”

When Cinder said nothing, Kai took in a deep breath and began once more. “Cinder,” he said, his copper eyes fastened on hers with the shining brilliance of the moon in a black sky. “I love you. And I will love you no matter what your name is. Whether you’re Cinder Linh or Kesley or even Smith.” He made a face. “Change your name to whatever you desire, and I will still love you. You are not a name, but a heart and soul— and my heart and soul fell for yours far too long ago and far too hard for me to ever go back.”

Cinder felt her eyes burn as Kai delivered his speech to her, his words flowing with the earth-shattering eloquence of a siren’s song, leaving Cinder wanting only more. She could have drowned in the soft stream of Kai’s words and felt nothing but ecstasy.

“I know we haven’t known each other long— not even a year. But I don’t think time makes a difference in matters of the heart. I love you, and want to marry you. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life. If you want my last name in return, take it. It’s yours as much as I am.”

“Kai,” Cinder whispered, searching his eyes for something— anything that betrayed his words. She found only the earnestness of his soul. She stared at him until a smile crept up his cheeks. He placed a hand on her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her nose. “Are you okay?”

Laughter burst forth from Kai, surprising Cinder. She didn’t find the situation particularly funny.

“What?” She asked.

“Yes, of course,” Kai responded, bumping his forehead against hers. “It’s just that you always ask me that question whenever I’m trying to make any sort of move on you.”

“You’re making a move on me?” Cinder drawled, half joking and half not.

“I did kind of just ask you to marry me,” Kai said, nibbling on his lower lip.

Cinder rolled her eyes. “I don’t actually recall you ever asking me that question.”

“Oh, my bad,” Kai said, red coloring his cheeks. He drew away from Cinder, and she instantly regretted her sarcasm. She wanted for him to come back to her— to touch her and hold her once more.

He knelt down on the floor in front of Cinder and took her hand. He was smiling that almost goofy grin of his as he looked up at her. Sometimes she couldn’t believe that he was still a part of her life. After everything that she had put him through, it would have been reasonable for him to leave. But Kai had never been a reasonable man.

“Cinder?” Kai asked. A black lock of hair fell into his eyes and Cinder brushed it back with careful fingers. He snatched her hand from his face and held fast to both her hands. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, but with you, I never have. So Cinder, insert your last name of choice, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

It was strange how the word slipped out of her mouth without her even thinking about it— there was no need for her to. For if there was one thing in this world that she was certain about, it was her love for Kai.

She pulled his face toward hers and kissed him. It felt much like their first kiss, except the flames had come early, dancing within her heart as she reveled in the idea of being his forever. She was a girl with no home and no last name— a girl once cursed to wander the earth alone for all eternity. But she had love; and in the end, that counted for more than anything else in the world.

[whumpbby]

P1 Saw your Wolves of Gotham and raise you Treasured Omega of Crime Alley, everyone including low ranked criminals love and protect the sole omega who lost everything but continues to give his all for everyone else, sharing food he's stolen or dubiously obtained, giving extra cash to the criminals who are just working with what the got and trying to feed their own families. The Omega is the first to step into confrontations if it means saving the pups and younglings of the alley. All adore him.

P2 The Omega who will offer clothes for alphas whose rut is painful without the scent of an omega to ease it. Who with sit with the sick that are dying in the street, just so they know they’re not alone. People want to claim him, the police want to bring him in for questioning as he’s often seen on the arms of suspicious persons, Batfam wants the Omega to have a home and pack but. Crime Alley will not let them take away the brightest soul of their hell hole and they will fight to protect Jason. 

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

This is, Jay didn’t start out strongly, he started out as a terrified child that was suddenly motherless, with the landlord knocking on the doors and debt collectors closing in. He was taken in by the social services at first - but social services, when it came to omegas, were gunning for getting him an alpha asap to get him out of the system - the orphanages in the bad parts of the city were called omega mills for a reason, the foster families that got kids form them weren’t there to help poor kids… Jason escaped as soon as a foster parent tried to scruff him for the first time. Fuck that.

But that landed him on the streets, with no support and no idea how to survive. He made do. He stole and lied and pretended to be an alpha when necessary, because that was what worked - omegas on the streets didn’t live long. So, he crushed all of his budding soft instincts and carried on. 

And then, when he was fourteen, he saw a group of punks picking on a homeless kid, and stepped in - and that was the end. He was beaten to death and there was no Robin with a finny quip, there was no Batman to stop it from happening, there was only freezing pavement underneath and trash heaping all around, and the darkness slowly closing in… 

He comes back, though. He wakes up with a gasp, cold and pained, and he’s breathing again, he drags himself to his hideout and… It’s been two days an no one found his body - not surprising in Gotham. He doesn’t know hat to make of it. He could swear that he died… he knows what survivable pain feels like and this was way above it…

And there’s this thing inside of him now, this burning feeling warming him… this anger… this rage, unbidden, raising with every moment of remembering how he got there, with every memory of his crap life and this crap city ad he’s so angry!

He’s so done. Gotham killed him, so he has no more qualms about letting it get away with anything. 

He finds the punks that killed him - a pack of young bucks, alphas and betas that want to be alphas, juvie material that hunted poorest corners for omegas to use. And they seem - fine. They seem normal, acting like nothing, like they didn’t just beat a kid to death a few days ago in a dingy alleyway… If he saw regret in them, he might have reconsidered, the good parts of him might have stopped, but there is no regret. 

He gets his revenge - he’s not stronger than them, but if he catches them one on one, his rage wins. The old gas-pipe is the only thing he could find to use as a weapon and it turns out to be a fairly effective, so he keeps it. Killing doesn’t make him feel good, quite on the contrary, but it makes that burning inside of him settle somewhat, the knowledge that no one else will be hurt by these lowlifes gives him peace for a time. 

But it doesn’t last long before he’s faced with another atrocity - a kid omega, barely older than seven, and two adult alphas carrying it away, firmly scruffed, towards a nearby car.And maybe back in the day Jason would have turned his face away, knowing that he won;t be able to stop two adults, that he is too weak - but not now. He knows that he isn’t weak enough to let it happen, that burning inside roars into flames, he picks up his pipe and starts running. The first alpha doesn’t have a chance to turn around before Jason boosts himself on the fallen trashcan and the pipe swings, hits the man in the side of the head, the bent part on the end crushing his temple. He drops down like a wet rag. The other alpha shouts, turns, he drops the kid and his hand goes to his pocket to reach for a knife, but Jay is already standing on the top of the car swings. Headshot. Blood sprays into the air - he knows that head wounds bleed like hell, he knows… 

The baby (he’s just a baby, he’s so small, so thin, so bruised and smells of blood and terror) comes back to himself and, seeing the situation - the boy doesn’t run, doesn’t wail, he scrambles for the dropped knife and plunges it into the fallen alpha’s abdomen. And then again. And again. Whining and crying, frantic, he does what every omega in his place would do (that he presented this young makes disgust curl in Jay’s belly).

But the street is not safe, he knows that, soon enough someone will smell blood. He jumps down from the car and wrestles the knife from the kid’s hands, coaxes him to b quiet and get up, the little shaky legs barely hold him up. They need to run. Blood is blooming around, the two alphas will never be a danger to them, but the cops that arrive soon will. They need to go, they need to hide. 

Jay leads them into the tangle of streets, into the heart of abandonment, instincts pushing at him to go lower, to the ground, lower, out of the freezing air, dig, bunker down, nest where they won;t be able to find them. 

They end up going down - into the ruins of Old Gotham, a spiderweb of corridors and passages half crumbled and dark, but dry, safe from prying eyes, safe from the cops. They hunker down and nest, just the two of them. Jason patches the kid up as best as he can, washes him down with what little water he had, gives him his threadbare clothes that are dirty, but at least don’t smell like alpha spunk. 

He has no idea what to do now - the fired has died down, the power it gave him is dropping, he feels sick and scared, he’s just a kid, the kid is just a baby, they both have blood on their hands now, no one will take them in… they can’t hide in the tunnels forever, can they?

Can they?

*

Two days later Jason emerges from the tunnels into a snowy landscape of Gotham proper. His gas-pipe on the back, half hidden by his ratty backpack. He goes back to the streets he knows and put his ear to the ground, and there are whispers about two alphas snuffed out like nothing, left a bloody mess on the frozen pavement. Fingers point to Batman, but Batman doesn’t kill, does he? There’s no other vigilante in Gotham who would… and the alphas were traffickers, no great loss, is it? Cops wouldn’t touch them, and they were too small of fries for Batman, so really, it’s almost community service at this point. 

Sometime settles in Jay’s belly that day, the burning and the rage, the knowledge that if he didn’t do anything, the baby would be dead - that no one else was going to do anything to protect the kids on the streets… if he doesn’t do it, no one will. Who were they going to rely on, Robin? The little useless alpha running behind the Bat and throwing jokes as if it wasn’t serious, as if the lives the overlooked weren’t important, as if the victims were nothing!

If he doesn’t do anything, they will keep dying, being trafficked, being hurt… 

He has o do something.

*

Two years later, Batman is at the end of his rope. He can’t be more than sixteen, that kid, can he? He’s tall for his age, but malnutrition made his body awkward, all of it is lean muscle, poised and tense to strike at any moment, all of the energy stored for fighting, for running, for the gas-pipe seemingly welded to his hand. All of it poised to strike without warning at the barest provocation. 

It’s heartbreaking, to see what the city did to that child, what Gotham turned him into. For an omega to be - this. This coiled snake, this wild dog hungry for flesh of whoever crossed him - it’s unsettling, it’s wrong. His scent makes Batman’s stomach curl, harsh and heavy, and unfriendly. The kid makes no attempt at hiding it, it hangs heavy over the Old Gotham, a widening circle of LEAVE, GET OUT OR DIE. A scent of a monstrous omega underlined with a chorus of others, not as acute, but just as determined, just as dangerous - a hidden city of omegas circling like ants around their queen, a nest of hornets ready to swarm any perceived threat until it stops moving. 

He tried to crack it, he tried to - he tried to help them. Early on and even now, he will never stop trying to help them - but they made it clear that they don’t want his help. That Batman isn’t their savior. 

(“A sign of hope, my fuckin’ ass!” The girl couldn’t be more than fourteen and Bruce’s ears burn from hearing her casually swearing. She was scruffy and thin, smelled to be close to her cycle, she should be in a cosy family nest with her mother, not on the street with a bat in her hands, sneering at Robin with open contempt over a moaning man that used to be a prominent john at her feet and a group of more kids behind her back… “You appear and we do headcount, means enough people were murdered for the freaks to come out!“ 

It hurts to understand her point of view, but it’s not less true only because he wishes it wasn’t. 

They tried to take her in, take them all in, help them, put them somewhere where they could be taken care of… and learned the hard way that usual ways of dealing with omegas won’t work - Dick tried to come close, hoping that his own youth will be enough, that his calming alpha scent will be enough, that his friendly and open attitude will break the ice - he returned home with a broken wrist and a bruise on his face, taunts and sneers ringing in both of their ears.)

He tried many times since then, they both tried to crack the wall surrounding Old Gotham, but with no success. Every time they managed to get one child out, it wasn’t a week before it was taken back - until social services stopped accepting them, the damage caused by the rescuers too acute to be worth it. Ma Gunn’s school burning down was a loud and clear message. 

(He saw the boy for the first time then, framed by a wall of flames, and somehow still the brightest part of that image were his eyes - green and haunting. The wind and fire howled to the sky and the boy had to be waiting for them to show up, it was no coincidence. 

“Why?” Batman asked. It was an escalation of violence he didn’t expect, he didn’t think they’d move outside of the Old City…

“You ever check up on the kids you put here?” the boy asked, voice rougher than expected. “Or are you a part pimping them out, rich boy?”

The last stopped him for a second, fear griping him for a moment that he was found out, that… and the boy disappeared, washed out into the night like he was never there.)  

No, he never followed up on the orphans he left with the Ma, did he? He should, but he trusted the old omega. Later, he learned that he shouldn’t. That the kids that disappeared out of her ‘school’ were traded out. The guilt settled hard on his shoulders, one more error made in good stupidly faith that innocents paid for. One more reason for the children to resist his attempts at help - after that, how could they trust his help? 

Gotham learns quickly that the Old City is out of bounds for the criminal element - there were attempts to control it, of course, different mobs trying their hands at wrestling the power for themselves, gangs determined enough to ignore the blood-curling scent of danger hanging over the place. There was a time when bodies hung from the lamp-posts in the warehouse district, a message more than clear. 

Gordon stops sending out people to the Old City - too costly, no one wants to go, there’s no point. “May as well try to catch wind.” But Bruce feels that in truth, the Commissioner may be silently agreeing with the idea…

(“As long as no one interferes, they’re self-contained,” he says. “These kids are safer there then anywhere else, right now.”

“It won’t last,” Batman says. “These things never do. It will end badly.” And he can’t allow that.

“Well, then, better make sure no kids end up on the streets, right? They didn’t come form nothing, kid, there is a reason the Old City exists.”  Gordon’s eyes are pained and harsh as they look at him, straight into Bruce’s ones, as if the mas wasn’t there at all. “This isn’t an issue you solve by stuffing them back into a broken system that is the reason they’re there in the first place.”)

Leslie was even harder, her eyes pitiless as she stared Batman down one night in her office, after she came back form a house-visit, the harsh scent of the Old City still clinic to her clothes.  

(“They need help, Leslie.”

“They needed that help years ago, and that’s when we failed them.” Her voice is harsh, but hushed, her hands tremble as she unpacks her bag. There’s not much left in it. “Not every kid gets a manor and a butler to help them get through a tragedy, some get a flea-bitten mattress and a pimp that maybe won’t beat them too much!”

Se rears back, the words hitting him like a fist, the lack of remorse on her face startling, the child inside of him flinching at the remembered pain. How dare she.

“How dare you try and barge your way in there to ‘save them’!” She rounds on him, five feet five and harder than stone. “How dare you when it’s that ‘saving’ that got them there! They don’t need Batman, Bruce, they need an alpha that gives a damn about more than his own morals. An alpha to show them that the world outside won’t try to tear them to pieces!”

“I tried!” It was a weak defense to his own ears, but he had nothing else.

“Yes, you tried, and I had to preform six abortions on kids younger than Dick!”)

That silenced him. The reason for her anger, for her unflinching disregard for his own pain. He stepped back, left, mind grinding overtime to come up with a solution, with a way to fix this - because that’s what he always did, he fixed things. hat’s what he always wanted to do - to save people, to… to use his means to help others. So no more kids would be standing on a bloodied pavement, staring blankly into the night.

“We have to leave them alone.” These words form Dick were the least he expected. His partner, his Robin, wings clipped by the realization that there were people beyond his reach. “We have to stop trying to catch him. If we take him away, the place will crumble, the gangs will move in and the children will become easy pickings for any two-penny thug before we can even round them up. We can’t… I can’t let that happen. I can’t be a part of that, Bruce.” His son, bright eyes shaded with regret. “No matter how many people we can punch in the face, this isn’t what they need. We aren’t what they need.”

“I can’t let it go, Dick.” He was so tired. “They barely scrape by, I can’t…” A city of children - omega children - living off scraps, held together by a boy younger than his son, every winter grips his heart with terror for their lives.

“Then-then let’s help them. Let’s help them like that, make sure they have food and clothes, that someone out there cares enough…”

*

That’s how he comes to the moment.

Standing on the border of the Old City opposite the young wolf guarding its gates, a filthy street between them, dozens of eyes pinning him in place from windows and doors of the crumbling buildings.  He can’t see them, but he knows they’re there, a small army ready to tear him apart if he as much as breathes wrong at their pack leader. He never knew that ninjas would be easier to fight than enraged omegas barely taller than his waist.

“What do you want?” the boy’s voice carries well, he sounds like an alpha.

He grew since Bruce last saw him, a couple inches, maybe he’s even Dick’s height now. His face is sharp and jaw square, the only pretence of an omega being the barely noticeable width of the hips. The coiled strength is still there, but the violent light in his eyes is subdued, they’re filled with cold calculation instead. Nothing about him tells Bruce he considers Batman to be a threat – but everything speaks of wariness and willingness to do what needs to be done.

He’s an omega, but Bruce has never stood opposite a pack leader as evenly matched in will to him as that. Ra’s al Ghul was close, but he had an advantage of age and experience, while this was…

There were rumours The Omega couldn’t die thrown around. That The Omega got up every time. Rival gang threw him into the harbour. Three days later they were all gone and he was back. He was shot by a hitman hired by the Black Mask. Three days later the hitman was found dead and 3 of Roman’s warehouses were set aflame. Bullets and beatings, men and women trying to get a hit. Five years of violence and he was still standing, and they were not. Three days. Always three days.

Bruce doesn’t know if it’s truth or fabrication, but there is something to it, must be, because the last time he saw him, the boy’s eyes weren’t this bright.

“What do you want, rich boy?” The Omega repeats and this time Bruce can feel his voice in the soles of his feet.

A meta? Mystical? Something else? How has he never noticed before?

The tension in the air rises, the anticipation from the unseen observers grows.

God, if Ra’s ever hears about this, he will take the boy – rumour about immortality will be enough for him to chase. The League will ransack this place, leaving nothing behind.  

“For the last time, what do you want?”

Bruce has only one card to play here and it’s not as strong as he’d like it to be. One chance to get a foot in and hope they’ll accept his help. To show them that the world wasn’t going to tear them apart if they dare to trust it. It might be too late, but he has to hope it isn’t.

“What do you need?”

The questions barely stops the Omega from leaving. Angled away, distrust clear as day on his face and in the set of his body, he eyes the Batman with naked suspicion.

Bruce takes it as a chance it is. “What do you need? Food? Clothes? I can get you a steady supply of both.” Bargaining isn’t his forte, he grew so used to demanding.

A hiss sounds across the street, dozen small throats growling in warning. It’s humbling – he’s not a saviour here, he’s a potential threat and needs to step carefully.

“What for?” The Omega asks. “What do you want back, rich boy?”

Nothing -pushes at his lips, but he stops it. It will only ever be a lie to them, after so many alphas promised help and… He rethinks, recalibrates. Frankly, he didn’t expect to get that far.

“I want you to give Leslie health reports,” he says instead. “Monthly. Injuries, pregnancies, births. Deaths. She will keep it in confidentiality, as she did until now, I have no insight into them.” And he barely greed to that, but Leslie was unbent. “She will get the funds to help you more. Medication and vaccines, and pre-natal care…”

He wants to say more, he wants to tell them about the schooling he has planned, about possible stipends to get the kids out of the grip of poverty if they want to leave, of wanting to help this place become liveable and safe for them if they want to stay. But he’s aware this is already too much, that these are the most important things they lack (that an omega in charge of pups will instinctively respond to), that he has to move slow, that this all has a chance to blow up in his face.

The Omega is considering him now, aggression tuned down into barely distrust, but there’s a spark of interest there, a shade of the youth that should have been had the life not tried to squash it.

Bruce would give everything in that moment to know the boy’s name.

“That’s all?” It’s almost mocking, but not entirely.

“I want you to stop killing.” The next part is hard to voice, he has to force it, because Leslie was right, not everyone got a chance to cultivate unshaken morality after their life went up in flames. “Or don’t let them kill… if you have to.” He will work on it. He will try to help them overcome that, teach them how to keep their hands clean – hopefully, in time.

“And you will keep us safe from the lowlifes?” This time it’s a mockery. “We will shine a light in the sky and the Bat and his birdie will swoop down conveniently too late to save anyone, but the villain and the pretty, clean omega crying nicely for the reporters?”

He was right, this was too far, too much and too early. He has to backtrack. Fast.

“No, you have to defend yourself.” God, it’s hard to admit. “But the little ones…”

“Are always in danger.”

The Omega turns, fists clenched, steps off the sidewalk and crosses the street, and Bruce almost backs away, because the alleyway fills with growls and hisses, with danger, and he doesn’t want to set them off.

“We don’t go out to kill,” the Omega hisses, “they keep coming here to be killed. I made it clear, where the borders are, I made it simple.” He barely reaches Bruce’s chin, but it’s not important. “They come here armed, to murder children, to take them away to be sold, not one of them deserves to leave.”

The situation deteriorated, but at least now Bruce can scent him, can feel him up close, and underneath the tension and rage, there’s weariness and hunger, and underneath that there’s… something strange. Acrid and bitter, and alien, and hurt.

“How old were you?” He asks, maybe stupidly, but the alpha in him tears at the walls of restrain.

“When Gotham killed me for the first time?”  

He wasn’t asking about that, he thought… he hoped it was a metaphor, just rumours. The deadly shine in the green eyes told him otherwise.

“Fourteen. On the corner of Park Row. Went to bust some rims and got my head busted instead.”

Impossible. It was too much of a coincidence…

“I will think about your offer, Batman. Leslie will pass on the decision and I don’t want to see you here anymore.”

He turns away and leaves, washes out into the shadows and with him the presence of the pack watching Bruce try to gather himself back together.        

It was a small victory, but still one.  

[ironemrys]

Here Be Rejects and Weirdos 

pairings/relationships: familial DRLAMP, background Logicality I guess.

tw: blood and gore I guess. cursing. that's pretty much it. 

notes: no context. just a random thought. is this a super hero AU? idk. probably not. 

--

What's hard about being a mutant? Is it the creepy scientists who wants to experiment on you? Is it the political unrest caused by people who are pro mutant and anti mutant? Is it the judging look people give you once they realize you're not human? 

For Logan, it wasn't necessarily those things mentioned above. Nope. It's not even the fact that most people see his kind as weirdos and rejects. Those without a place in the world because they're different. 

He was used to being told that he was different so it didn't matter to him. No. What's hard about being a mutant is adopting and raising mutant children. 

Or in his case, four chaotic teenage mutants. God if Splinter could see him now. But let's not dive into that side of the universe. 

Anyway, despite the fact that the teenagers can sometimes drive him crazy, Logan didn't mind. In fact, he loved the idea that these teenagers rely on him and look to him as a mother figure. 

He says mother because the father role is taken up by his partner, Patton. 

Now Patton, at first glance, doesn't look like he's different from normal human beings unlike the other mutants who you could obviously tell. His mutation enables him to cure injuries both minor and major. The only thing different about him is that his hair tends to change their colors whenever he's using his powers. They're naturally brown but they would turn white when he's healing someone else and they would turn golden when he's healing himself. It's weird, he knows. But whatever, he's a mutant. 

Logan also at first glance looked more human than the rest of the mutants. The only distinct feature he has is when a series of coded tattoos would start to appear on his forehead down to his eyelids whenever he's using his power. 

It has been a while since he last used his abilities. Mentoring and training four teenagers didn't really require much from his mutation. 

Logan's mutation allows him to see and feel another mutant's presence. He could tell just by looking at them how strong they are, how powerful they could get and what their weaknesses are. With this vast knowledge on other mutants, Logan uses his degree in engineering to create weapons that could protect him and his family from other mutants who would want to harm them. 

Because let's face it, there are those out there who would dare. 

Anyway, Logan sat in his workshop and mumbled incoherent Tagalog to himself as he continued to work on the modifications on one of the teen's suits because of course he would create protective suits for his boys. They are mutants but they're children, they're his children. 

It was well past ten in the evening but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't finish his work. He's not one to put off a project that he knows he can finish sooner rather than later. 

The sliding door on his right caught his attention when it opened with a bang and three teenagers ran inside followed by Patton. 

"Logan! Someone's captured Remus!" a red eyed red haired teenager yelled in alarm. 

"how is that possible?" Logan asked, raising his eyebrow. 

"Him and Roman were on their way back from patrol and me and Janus were supposed to meet them when we were attacked! They were from the opposition, I recognized their badges! What do we do!?" a purple haired teenager replied frantically as tendrils of shadows started to form by his feet.

Of course, not everyone is for the idea of mutants coexisting with the humans. So aside from the usual villain mutants, Logan and his family also had to deal with the human dictators who only had one thing in their mind: to purge and cleanse the world by removing the anomaly. The anomaly being them, the mutants.

"Virgil, honey…" Patton said and soothed his back. 

"Virgil, calm down." Logan reminds him and the teen took a deep breath, shuddering.

"But why would they only take Remus?" Patton then asked once Virgil relaxed. He fixed his round eyeglasses on his face and looked warily at his partner. 

"I mean if they were from the opposition then shouldn't they have captured all of them? And even if they were only interested in the wolves, why didn't they take Roman as well?" he added, gesturing to the red head. 

"Roman hasn't fully shifted, Patton. The opposition has hunters and hunters could tell if you're a fully grown werewolf or not. Besides, Remus is an Alpha. An Alpha has high value in the black market. Roman has yet to know his standing since his transition is incomplete." Logan concludes. 

"so they're gonna sell him?!" A brown haired teen with green scales on one side of his face hissed in disgust. 

"probably." Logan replied and turned to his computer. "where did you last see him?" he asked before putting up a map of the city. 

"we were attacked a few blocks away from the usual post." Virgil replied. He was trying his best to calm down. The last time he had a panic attack the entire mansion got covered in darkness and it was not a happy memory. 

But how can he calm down when one of them has been captured. Sure, they all had these different abilities that will give them the upper hand against the opposition but they were also teenagers, they are still in training and they are young. Obviously, they had a lot to learn. 

Also, they were outrageously outnumbered when they were attacked.

"Did you try finding him using your magic, Janus?" Patton asked the scaly teen. 

"I did but the hunters had magic users with them when they attacked us and I could tell that they're blocking my magic right now." Janus answered. 

"They had magic users? Now that's new." Patton commented. Indeed it was, the opposition usually housed humans, so why would they have mutant magic users at their disposal?

"I can't trace him with the shadows too. Either they're in a very well lit area or my range is just too short." Virgil responds. 

"His scent was gone as soon as I woke up." Roman added as he bit his fingers in anxiousness. 

He didn't like being separated from his twin. No matter how much they get on each other's nerves, they love and care for one another. To be honest, if Roman was to be asked, he would've hunted down the assholes who took his brother the moment the three of them woke up from being knocked out.

However, since Janus was the eldest foster kid, the decision on what to do next had to come from him. 

"Roman, there is no need to worry. Remus is very capable in taking care of himself." Logan then says when an incoming video call pops up on the monitor. 

"hello, mutant scum." A man Logan recognized as a hunter from the opposition greeted him as soon as he answered. 

"Hunter." Logan acknowledged as he fixed his glasses on his face. He could hear Janus and Virgil hiss from behind him. 

"Hey you asshole! Where's Remus?! Where's my brother!?" Roman yelled in distress and Patton had to hold him back. The red head was baring his fangs and his fingers were turning into claws. 

"He's right here, cub." the man replied with a grin and turned the camera to show Remus. 

The green haired teenager was bound to a chair with silver chains. He was banged up and gagged. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were glaring daggers at his captor. 

"what do you want with him?" Patton asks. 

"well at first we were going to kill him in front of a lot of people, you know, for kicks." The hunter sneered and Roman growled in anger. 

"Then we thought why not sell his body parts to the black market? This one's an Alpha and that's really rare nowadays. And there are a lot who would pay good money just to see you burn." The man added while playing with the white streak on Remus' hair. 

"BASTARD!!" Janus yelled angrily as he took a step forward but Logan held on his shoulder to calm him down. 

"But then we figured, hey we can make more money if we hold him for ransom since isn't he under the protection of the famous Guardian? The same Guardian who proposed the coexisting of humans and mutants?" the man said and they could hear laughter from other people in the background.

"yeah. We know all about you and your foster kids. You really think that you guys joining together will create a family? You're no family. You're what's wrong with this world.." the man said and smirked at Logan who surprisingly didn't care about what the hunter was saying. Instead, he turned his attention to Remus. 

"Remus, are you alright?" He asked and Remus made eye contact with him through the monitor. 

"He can't answer you right now. He's busy trying not to die." The hunter replied. 

"it's a shame we didn't take the puppy too. We could've made more money with two werewolves." He laughed maniacally and they heard Remus mumble something through the gag in his mouth. 

"What?" The hunter asked and pulled away the gag. 

"I said," Remus coughed but then he glared at the hunter, "you fuckers better leave my brother alone." 

"Ha! We could have your brother if we wanted to, you imbecile! He's weaker and easier to kill. Add that half snake and winged demon and we can have dough that could last us for years. Although they're not really worth much unlike your kind." the men around them laughed loudly that they missed the growl rising from Remus' throat. 

"Please don't kill him." Logan sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose but the men only laughed harder at his words. 

"You think you can beg for the life of this monster? You are disgusting. You're rejects. You're abnormal, you're experiments gone wrong. Listen, you don't get to make demands here, Guardian. You failed watching over your so called band of misfits and-"

"I wasn't talking to you." Logan cuts him off when they hear the breaking of chains followed by a ferocious growl. 

The hunters turn around as Remus shakes off the silver chains. He raises his head and flashes them a toothy, albeit scary, smile. 

"You see, what you hunters don't know is that Remus and Roman aren't ordinary werewolf mutants. They're mutant hybrids." Logan starts, fixing his glasses again, "which means that those silver chains? they're pretty much like chew toys for the likes of him." 

Remus transformed. His pale skin turned a darker color, his hair grew longer and down to his waist, his usually green eyes were brighter and his fingernails were the shape of claws. He got on all fours and once he growled, the hunters eyes went wide. 

There was a scream and the tearing sounds of flesh as Remus destroyed everything and everyone in the room. The laptop where the call was still ongoing got turned over right next to a severed head. 

"subdue him!" they heard someone yell and they could see more people from the opposition appear and attack Remus.

"it's the magic users." Janus hissed. 

"we have to help him!" Roman yelled then there was a beep in one of the monitors. A red dot blinked rapidly at the map in front of them.

Apparently, Logan had started tracing the call, the minute the hunters called them.

"Go." He then said and gave a nod to Janus who materialized a black staff out of nowhere. He chanted in an ancient language as his eyes turned yellow. There was a flash of light and then the three teenagers were gone. 

Remus dodged a magic spell thrown at him by one of the hunter's peers. He growled lowly and was cornered to a wall when the lights went out.

"About damn fucking time!" He yelled when the people around him started yelling profanities at something that was attacking them in the dark. 

"MONSTER!" someone yelled and raised a knife to stab Remus from behind but there came another growl on the right and the assailant was immediately tackled to the ground. 

The lights then came back on and Remus saw that most of the hunters and their magician friends were down on the ground. He licks the blood off his fingers as he transforms back to his normal form. 

"good job." Janus comments as his staff dematerializes. He brushes off his cloak and turns to Virgil who was still clouded by his shadows. 

"Vee? We're all good." He called and the shadows immediately disappear to reveal their youngest.

"god fuck. These assholes ruined my day." Remus then says.

"well, you got them back so I guess you're even." Janus replies.

"let's go home. I'm hungry." Remus says as he watches Roman revert back to his human form. 

"I'll do it." Virgil says and his eyes turn a dark shade of purple before they all get consumed by the shadows.

"well that was fun." Remus grins, his teeth yellow and bloody because of the fight. 

"yes, I could tell." Logan replies as the teenagers step out of Virgil's shadows. 

"ugh. You stink, Remus." Roman then comments. 

"not as stinky as your breath!" Remus retorts and smothers Roman's face with his bloodied hands. 

"GROSS! YOU'RE A DISGUSTING HUMAN BEING!!!" Roman whines.

"We're not human, you genius!" Remus cackles, "You, for instance, are a bitch!" he adds and dodges the clawed hand of his brother. 

"you take that back!" Roman demands but before they could get in another fight, Patton stepped in to stop them.

"Alright now kiddos. Now that we have Remus back, it's time you all get some rest. Remus, I'm glad you're okay." He smiles in relief. 

"Of course pop. I was just caught off guard. Won't happen again. Unless of course some hunter is dumb enough to cross hybrids again." the teen shrugs. 

"Right. Now go and take a bath. And off to bed. All of you." Patton replies and the rest of the teenagers pile out but not before Remus makes another off hand comment. 

"besides I think now they'll be too scared since Roman showed his ugly face."

"UGLY?? I'M UGLY?! WE'RE TWINS YOU STUPID GENIUS!"

"god shut up!" Janus yells at both of them before flicking his wrist, causing the twins to be bound tightly in ropes. 

"Why is this my family?" Virgil sighs but there was a soft smile on his face as he watches Janus levitate the twins to their rooms. 

Patton then turns to Logan who shuts off his workstation as well. 

"I was wondering why you were so calm. Usually you would've been just as bad as me if one of the boys went missing." He says and Logan lets a grin form on his mouth. 

"I know their potential, Patton. I am The Guardian after all."

--

meh. this is the thought process of someone who's been indulging themselves in superhero shit along with Sanders Sides.

[darkwritingsnshit]

Fallen Stars

Please disregard my bad writings. This has been on my laptop for months and I wanted to get it off my hard drive. We’ll see where this goes honestly.

Warnings: This will probably be a dark fic with dark characters, noncon elements, smut and death. Please o not read if you are under 18 or uncomfortable with above mentioned plots. 

           The blaster shots glanced by your head as you shoved your guard Nele into a thicket of trees. Though it was her job, you weren’t about to let her die for you, not today.

           “My queen!! We must fall back and regroup, there are too many of them!” Your commander’s voice was panicked and strained, you could tell even through the static against your ear that her words were laced with real fear.

           Fall back, regroup, outnumbered, how had this happened? For a thousand years, your family had led your planet, passed mother to daughter, a matriarchal system that ensured the safety and wellbeing of each and every one of the millions of lives that dotted your planet. Now you were covered in dirt and blood and would be lucky to make it out of these woods alive.

 ��            The peace and booming trade economy that you and your mother fostered, helped by elected leaders of the people, had brought three entire systems to center their economies and influence upon your planet. What had started a thousand years ago as an emerging planet of peace and growth, had transformed into a beacon of political power and a center of influence across the close by systems.

           Not only did you have a planet to look after, but whoever wore the crown and commanded the on-planet senate held the power in all three surrounding systems. Your planet’s largest moon held one of the most impressive and beautiful governing halls since the fall of the Republic. Less grand than it had once been with parts of it bombed down, system leaders still met with you among the standing halls and brokered deals, made laws, fortified trade and ensured protections for all three systems.

           Your planet and system had opposed the Empire and had yet to give into the First Order. Politically, it was a death sentence to endorse your support for the Rebels, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep the First Order from extending their arm’s reach into your system.

In court your mother only openly supported the rights and liberties of her people, she would often raise a toast when the rebels scored a large victory. As a leader, she called it a rightful expression of the people; the people had asked for redress from the First Order and were met with a crushing fist.

When you were alone together, she would tell you of how she had once met Princess Leia Organa on a Rebel base when she was younger. The great queen strong, and her softness for the Rebellion known, your planet indeed housed many Rebels; it was even said to have been one of the last places the Old Republic Senators had ever met as a governing body.

           You were a child when the Empire fell, young but still old enough to remember seeing the last few battles, watching men and women leave your hangars, never to come home. You remember your mother’s ever present fear, could nearly taste it. You remembered that she dressed in all black and was armed at all times, that she taught you to wield a blaster. You saw the celebrations that screamed across the galaxy, the weight lifted and the freedom in the air.

           Over and over, you heard the chants of people in the streets, the jubilation and joy from being freed from the oppressor of the galaxy. You could remember them cheering, screaming through the streets “Never again!”. Never again. Here you were. What had happened?

        _______________________________________________________________

“Supreme Leader, with the submission of-” General Hux knelt with a bowed head in front of a man held together by darkness and evil energy he could feel radiating from every particle.

           “Don’t you see?! It does not matter how many simple, puny planets are crushed into submission. This planet has held the influence of three systems for a thousand years! As long as she stands opposed to the First Order, there will be rebellion in not one, but THREE star systems!!” Snoke’s rotting skin seemed translucent in the lights from the ship, his gold cloak doing nothing to hide the lacerations along his throat.

           “It would be simple to destroy, Supre-” Started another well-meaning officer from behind General Hux.

           “NO! Does no one listen? The destruction of this planet leads the systems against us in open warfare! Should this planet fall under our thumb, so do all three systems; without a body count and without losing valuable First Order time and resources.”

           “Supreme Leader. I have some information that may serve you well.” Kylo Ren stepped forward from the shadows hiding him along the wall, holding in front of him a small square data chip. “From this new information, it seems like the conflict among the planet’s rulers may have swung in our favor.”

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

           Under the cover of dark you and your guard Nele made it to a rendezvous point and were able to get medical care and some rest. You saw to it that Nele got enough to eat before finding your general for an update.

           “What’s the status on your front?” General Lin flinched as you stepped out of the shadows, General Mar smiled, though it was short lived.

           “Casualties were high in the pass, your stepbrother’s men had the high ground.” Lin’s grim face was dirty, uniform covered in dark stains.

           “There may be better news from the left right flank your highness.” Mar stepped forward with a smile. Good news? Anything, you would be grateful for any advantage now.

           “It seems your stepfather doesn’t know about the old battlements below the cliffs.” Your general stepped forward with a map of the area, you all drew forward around her.

General Mar traced a finger over the path down the Cyone Cliffs to where they led to the tucked away cove below. You smiled at your general, grateful for her years of service to your family. There were secrets unbeknownst even to you hidden in your new kingdom. Both generals had served your mother for years; you were learning so much from what they passed on to you.

“Below the cliffs is a stone fortress with rations, a ship and supplies. It’s hidden by the foliage and angle of the rock, with tunnels creating access points to the hill above.” Mar, Lin and the arranged officers turned to you.

“It’s not fortified enough to be a base, but it’s a place to lie low and regroup. Let’s get the ship up and running, we can meet the rest of the royal army on the other side of the continent.” There was a murmuring of agreement before you dismissed them and spoke closely with Lin and Mar.

 “What do you think? Really?” At that moment you weren’t a queen standing before your generals, you were a young adult begging for help from her nearly dead mother’s trusted advisors.

“It’s alright wildflower, we aren’t losing ground, you’ve made the right decision.” Mar’s hand on your shoulder was comforting, you closed your eyes and breathed deep. Lin smiled at you and took your hands.

“Your mother is proud of you, little wildflower.” Her eyes were the same color as your mother’s. “You are fighting for your people, and we will not give up. We will win for them, for all of our people, understand?” You nodded your head.

“Thank you both, your advice and words of comfort bring me more strength than you can believe.” Mar and Lin had stepped back and gave you approving looks.

“Get some sleep, my queen.” Mar called after you as you made your way to your sleeping pad for a few hours of rest.

   Sleep did not come easy; the casualties of the battle weighed heavy on your mind, as did the weight of the decisions on where to move next.

Your stepfather didn’t know your planet like you did. Of course he didn’t, he and your stepbrothers came to your planet when they were grown. Your mother had agreed to marry your stepfather to incite peace and new trades. Your stepfather came from a family with wealth around the system, though he had none of his own. A marriage to a well-respected queen brought your stepfather and older stepbrothers to your prosperous, blooming planet.

You could remember bits and pieces of your real father, but he had died when you were young. There were whispers of him being a secret rebel who died in one of the last battles, though your mother shushed such rumors. When you were a child you would memorize each detail of their wedding photos, and each memory of him that the elder women would tell you.

After the remarriage, your new stepfather pushed your mother to change the line of succession, and have his sons take the crown when your mother was to pass. Your mother’s anger echoed through the halls that day, you remember smiling when her shouting echoed off the stone walls around the palace. All efforts of your stepfather trying to finagle his way into your crown seemed to have stopped. Until at least, your mother got sick.

Just over six months ago, your mother had begun to feel ill. At first it was nausea, cramping and stomach pains, her throat turned and stayed sore, and eventually her heart began to beat irregularly. In shock and horror, you watched your perfectly strong, regal mother deteriorate in the span of months, until she slipped into the comma, she remained in.

As soon as your mother had been too ill to attend meetings, your stepfather had immediately seized control of the crown. For a thousand years, the crown had passed, mother to daughter, and it wasn’t until your mother was non-responsive that your stepfather officially declared himself king of your planet, no matter anyone’s protests.

  A King on the Queen’s throne of Galia did not sit well with most of your planet. Nevertheless, taking advantage of your mother’s severe state, your stepfather had taken over the royal palace with the help of his sons and their armies, and you were forced to flee and regroup with those who were still loyal to you.

There were few who were loyal to the new King of Galia, those that did were paid men or your stepbrother’s armies who had never been on planet. It angered you to see so many innocent lives lost, so much of your planet destroyed over a crown, over a throne.

Truthfully, you cared not for the crown or a palace to overlook the hills, you cared about the people living in those hills, the wellbeing of the children in the fields and if everyone in the village had enough to eat. Your stepbrothers would call you a wildflower when they saw you running through the streambeds, down dusty roads barefoot. When you would run to your mother and complain, she would laugh, and ask you why you would be upset that someone had called you something as lovely as a wildflower.

 Wiping nostalgia back from your brain, you pictured topographical maps and battle lines drawn across them. With any luck, you would be able to overpower, outmaneuver and take back the palace within 30-35 rotations. You were in a bad position now, but with your general’s knowledge of the land and the base on the other continent, you would be safe by this time tomorrow.

  _________________________________________________________

 “Ships are closing on the planet sir, we’ll send stormtroopers planetside once we arrive.” Standing on the bridge, a man read off his data pad and tried not to make eye contact.

“Thank you Major, that will be all. Deploy three battalions to the palace and wait for myself and Ren to arrive.” Hux glanced at him and continued on his data pad until the Star Destroyer came to a halt in front of a blue and green swirling planet.

The information that Ren had brought forward gave insight to an unbelievable situation. The Queen was near dead, her husband took the throne and the princess was in exile rallying troops. Snoke had insisted they pounce on the situation, taking the opportunity to give full support to the dying Queen’s husband. If the new King were only in power because of the First Order, he would be easy to control. Control the planet, control the system.

Hux’s data pad lit up when the battalions were leaving the docking station and he took his greatcoat from where it was hanging and prepared to arrive on Galia. Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren met Hux on the shuttle, an admittedly tense but short ride.

Stepping onto the planet, Hux realized that he was overdressed, as heat and humidity washed over him. The palace itself was grand as he expected; a thousand years of architecture and design had gone into a beautiful white stoned palace that seemed to be rising out of the sea and growing from the mountainside it was built on. From what Hux had gathered, there were several decent sized continents, but the rest of the planet was a warm archipelago.

Troops and ships were deploying around them as two men that Hux didn’t recognize came hurrying up to the approaching soldiers. Ren waved down the troopers that drew weapons at the approaching men. They raised their hands, showing they came unarmed, and walked towards the generals and their men.

“We received your offer of assistance and are more than grateful to you!” One man shouted from a few feet. He held up a holodisk that Ren snatched from his open palm using the force. With a click, the disk lit up, an older man dressed in finery spoke to the generals.

“It is with great thanks that I, King of Galia received the First Order’s offer of assistance. We welcome you into our palace upon your arrival and will be happy to get you and your troops anything you could need. My messengers will bring you to the palace for your reception.” The holodisk went dark in Ren’s palm.

“Please gentlemen, have your men follow us to the palace where our King will be happy to make accommodations and arrangements for everyone.” The other of the two messengers spoke. Ren nodded his head once, motioned two fingers foreword.

“Lead the way.” Came Ren’s masked voice, already following the two men towards the palace.

 The First Order’s procession of troops and tanks made way to the shining palace, finding more soldiers wearing different uniforms standing in formation, awaiting their arrival. Three men stood before rest, the generals and Captain Phasma crossed the rest of the path to meet them.

“Esteemed guests, welcome!” Your stepfather stepped forward to greet the First Order at his palace gates. “Please come inside, we have so much to discuss.”

  __________________________________________________________

 Sleeping little, you rose before dawn to oversee everyone’s preparation to evacuate. You wanted to make sure that all your soldiers and supporters got out safely before you did. You were the one making the plans, you had to make sure that those who were following your orders would be safe.

“We’ve got soldiers moving down the cliffs already, your highness, they’ll be getting the ship and communications ready to go.” General Mar was at your right shoulder, watching you strain to see through the dark.

“That’s a relief, we’re going to be vulnerable and at a disadvantage climbing down the cliffs.” You hadn’t been down them before but weren’t picturing the best fighting position.

“We will be under cover of foliage for most of the journey. We will leave food supplies and unnecessary equipment hidden here. We won’t take anything with us besides weapons, droids and the electronics we need to make a safe departure.” Mar looked to the suns that weren’t yet illuminating the horizon.

“It seems you’ve thought of everything General. I’m thankful to have you by my side.” Words wouldn’t ever let her know how much you needed her.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, wildflower. Lin has the maps and oversees communications. You will find her at the tent down to the right. When you are close enough, you’ll see it.” Mar gave your shoulder a squeeze and pointed you in the direction of General Lin.

It was hard to see in the dark, though the sky was slightly lightening, you could hear the hushed whispers and were able to see a makeshift tent in the grass. Picking out the general’s whisper from the others, you found Lin directing her soldiers and scanning maps. From what you could see, about a quarter of your company was already on the cliffs or below, and secure communications seemed to be up and running. You were always impressed by what she was able to pull together.

“We are working to hurry the progress my lady, we know that with every minute we stay is a minute in your stepfather’s favor.” Lin whispered across the table.

“I am beyond impressed by your operations here General, I am forever indebted to you and your soldiers.” You whispered back, near silent operations swirling around you.

“Your highness,” Lin began, “you are indebted to no one. You are our Queen, and we have pledged our lives and loyalty your mother, to you and any children you may have. We are proud to serve you, to fight and die for you because of all your family has done for our planet and our people.” Sincerity laced every one of her features.

“Thank you,” you managed, blinking back tears you wouldn’t let spill. “Please don’t let me hold up your operations, I will ready my ladies to go.”

  The dawn was about to break; you were fighting the suns as you ran across the grass. You insisted on being among the last of your soldiers down the cliffs. Your generals had been against it, but there had been no trace of movement from your stepbrother’s army and they didn’t have the manpower or knowledge of the terrain for an effective pursuit. You wanted to make sure all of your women were safe and ready to evacuate before leaving your position.

“Final squad, three minutes incoming,” you breathed over the transmitter to Mar.

“Copy that; shuttle is prepared for departure, awaiting your arrival. I want to take off the second you’re aboard, come down the dock running your highness!” Mar barked.

Truly the cliffs that overlooked the sea were a breathtaking sight. If you could, you would sit back and admire the suns beginning to shine across the sparkling water, turning the world before you to a sea of sapphires dotted with emerald islands as you looked to the east. In too much of a hurry, you and your guards focused on getting down to the ship and to safety.

The trail was easy enough; able to walk three across it was nicer than many hiking trails you had been on. General Lin had done a wonderful job clearing it in the night, you could see stumps where trees had grown across and layers of foliage tossed to the sides that had been hiding the old war paths. Mar told you this particular trail hadn’t been used for nearly a hundred years, and the maps your stepfather was using had no record of the old trails.

“The fool has no respect for the ways of our planet, the ways of our people. If he does not read the histories, he will be blind to the futures.” Mar had expressed to you in exasperation one night.

“Two minutes and closing, ready the ship for takeoff,” you called over the radio, wanting to be gone from this part of the planet so securely under your stepfather’s control. Still moving, you heard only static.

“Repeat, one minute 45 seconds and closing, what’s your status?” Still nothing. “Mar? Lin?” you had radio silence.

“Stop.” You held your hand up and your company came to a halt. Staying still, you listened but heard nothing. Birds screamed above your head, the wind shifted, and you tasted salt. If you stayed where you were, you had nowhere to go. Sending a silent prayer that there was something wrong with the transmitter, you tried again.

“Mar, what’s your status?” You and your soldiers were silent, the only sounds coming from the wind, waves, and birds.

“Your highness,” It wasn’t general Mar who you expected, but Lin who sounded breathless.

“Lin what’s going on?” You still held your hand in the stop position, every one of you were watching the transmitter with bated breath.

“The- one of the engineers thought there was a problem with a fuel cell…” Lin’s voice cut out before continuing. “We’ve prepared for takeoff your highness.”

Nele, your personal guard shifted beside you, concern written across her face.

“It’s supposed to be Mar,” Nele shook her head and shifted closer to you.

“What do you suggest, Nele?” You asked her in a whisper. All of the women around you looked uneasy. There was a murmur among them but Nele again shook her head.

“It’s up to you, my queen. But from where I see it, there’s nowhere to go but forward. There is nothing left for you on this side of the planet.” Nele gripped her blaster closer.

“You’re right, Nele.” Something felt wrong, but you squared up your shoulders. “One minute 45 seconds and closing, be ready for takeoff.” You motioned with your hands and your party continued forward with you.

“Copy.” Was the only response from Lin as you hurried your way down the cliffs.

 “Thirty seconds Lin, I don’t hear the engines you need to be ready!” You and Nele were almost sprinting the last few meters before the trail would open up into the loading dock.

“We’re ready,” came Lin’s reply over the transmitter you clutched opposite your gun.

Company in tow, you and Nele made the last turn before skittering to a halt, Nele stepping her entire body in front of yours and backing you behind your approaching soldiers. You found yourself in the middle of a company of your closest soldiers, blasters drawn, completely unprepared for what faced you.

  _____________________________________________________________

General Hux was loathe to admit when something had upstaged his expectations, but the royal palace of Galia was too stunning to hold grudges against. Even the foundations of the palace were impressive; inlaid with stones that held fossils of ancient creatures from the depth of Galia’s oceans.

The library and data catalogue were something else altogether. Hux had only seen this much data and information in highly secure military bases, and from what he could gather, most of it was open to the public. Thousands of years of information were behind two doors that seemed to never close.

After Captain Phasma had been dispatched to organize and prepare all the troops, Hux sent a tactical droid to learn as much as possible about any and all battle stations, bases, and war intel on the planet in the last three hundred years. It would transmit the information to Phasma so she could better her battle plans.

In the brief meeting Hux had surmised that the new King of Galia was an insufferable idiot. This would be too easy. Should the exiled princess be captured, any rebellion would be short lived. With the king under the influence of the First Order and the princess at their mercy, the planet would have no choice but to crumble to the First Order. Rejoining the king and Ren, Hux was fairly confident with their mission.

“General.” Captain Phasma strode forward, the din of the army faint behind her. “Based on the king’s information of their last battle, and maps compiled by the tactical droid, I believe we’ve pinpointed the princess’s location.

“She’s no princess!” The king spoke up from beside the general. “She’s a traitor to the crown and has been removed from any chance of succession. She is no princess on Galia.”

The general chose to ignore the king’s outburst, wanting more information.

“Show us where, captain.” Came Ren’s deep voice came before Hux had the chance.

Captain Phasma held up a holodisk that showed a piece of land, with terrain and trails marked across the landscape.

“Based on the information your sons have given me about the last battles and where they would have a chance to regroup, the only place they could seek refuge would be these old battlements on the Cyone Cliffs.”

The king balked at the captain’s maps. “Those old maps and trails haven’t been used in a hundred years, there’s no way they would even know about those battlements.”

“You assume too much.” Ren’s voice made the room drop in temperature, the king pall. “You underestimate the princess and her support.”

The king didn’t answer but shifted uncomfortably and grumbled.

“Captain,” began Hux, “how sure are you of the princess’s position?”

“If the information I’ve been given by the king’s son is correct, there’s nowhere else she could be, general.” Phasma answered.

“She’s there.” Came Ren’s clipped tone, he was already striding from the room towards his shuttle.

“Move the troops out Captain.” Hux told Phasma before turning to the king, looking smug. “We will retrieve the princess and return to the palace shortly.”

General Hux left the king looking rather speechless in his own hall. Truly the general had no care for what the king thought. He had invited the First Order to Galia with open arms, Hux would be damned if this old man got in the way now.

Flying over yesterday’s battlefield Hux saw bodies smattered across fields, dark stains against trampled, emerald green grasses. Following Phasma’s coordinates, the ground dropped off beneath the shuttle to sparkling water beneath. Turning and flying low, close to the blue water, Hux watched white cliffs pass before his eyes. Still descending, the shuttle nearly touched the water before a dock came into view, with a shuttle for 100 powered up and preparing for takeoff.

“Fire on that ship. I want it grounded not destroyed, the princess may be inside.” Hux instructed an admiral before him. Within seconds the back half of the shuttle was in flames, people running to evacuate.

“Phasma, land your troops and contain the solders. Kill anyone who isn’t an officer of higher ranking.” Hux watched as his three airships landed, troops pouring out and surrounding the shuttle and soldiers who had been preparing it for takeoff.  

Meeting Ren on the dock, Hux watched as chaos ensued around him. Women being knocked down to their knees, the smell of burnt flesh rising as firing squads made bodies drop. Within minutes there were but five left alive, being shoved towards Hux and Ren at the end of Phasma’s blaster.

“We’ve identified three rebel officers and two generals, general.” Phasma reported, the five women surrounded by twice as many guards.

Looking over the group they were raggedy indeed; blood, sweat and singed clothing, matted hair, he saw scared soldiers who had watched all their friends and sisters die. There were two who stood out, one who seemed to hold no fear, the other gave away her position by monitoring the officers too closely- they were her responsibility.

“Where is the princess?” Came Ren’s modulated voice, a cold feeling creeping into the bones of those surrounding them. When he got no response, he lifted a hand and brought all the women to their knees, holding their throats.

“Stop!” One of the women spoke and raised her hand to Ren.

“Where is, the princess? I won’t ask again.” Ren had released the soldiers, the one who had spoken standing to face him.

“We have no princess on Galia, this army is loyal to the Queen, who is safe.” The woman’s voice was steady, her eyes did not betray the same fear that was written on her fellow soldier’s faces.

A blaster shot sounded, one of the soldiers dropped dead behind the woman speaking. A scream came up from the others, but the woman held steady and stared at Ren unflinchingly.

“I see you’re prepared to die for your queen.” The chill was still palpable in the air. “Let’s see if your soldiers feel the same way.” Ren nodded to Phasma who pushed forward the second women who seemed more and more concerned for the three other soldiers.

This time it was Hux who stepped forward, pacing around the woman with fear written in her eyes.

“If you don’t tell us where the queen is, I will have my captain dismember each of your soldiers in front of you until you are so inclined to give us her position. Do you understand me?” He came to a stop before her, she was glancing between her soldiers and the other woman who had spoken to Ren. To prove a point, Phasma sharply kicked a soldier to her knees, eliciting a cry of pain. The woman before Hux dropped her eyes to the ground.

“She’s not here yet.” She spoke softly, as if she was trying to keep her soldiers from hearing her admission.

Hux nodded sharply, then motioned to Phasma. “Take them away.” Phasma marched the remaining three soldiers away, leaving two before Ren and Hux. “When will she be here?” Hux spoke directly.

“She won’t come until she has confirmation from us.” Eyes still downcast, voice still soft.

“Then I suppose it’s up to you to give her that confirmation.” Ren spoke again, his helmet turned towards the first woman, her calm upsetting him.

“I can’t do that.” Was the even reply that came from her. With an angry yell and a sweep of his arm, Ren sent the woman flying across the landing dock, her body hitting the stone cliff and falling to the ground.

Like two wolves closing in on dying prey, both Ren and Hux turned towards the last woman standing before them.

“If you want your soldiers and your queen to die, put up a fight. We have you surrounded. If you feel so inclined to save a life today, you’ll give us what we need and you’ll give it to us now.” Hux had a blaster trained on her and was close enough to intimidate the smaller woman with his height.

The woman glanced around, taking stock of the troops of First Order soldiers and aircrafts closing in on the space above.

“I’ll help you, if you can insure the safety of my queen and her escort.” Was her reply.

“We can talk about your requests once you’ve done your part.” Snarled Hux, taking her by the arm. “What signal?” He shoved her towards the communications panel. Hux set the channel to 732 after a grumble from the woman and waited for a transmission.

“Two minutes and closing, ready the ship for takeoff.” The station crackled to life, both Ren and Hux turning to the woman expectantly. Looking jumpy, the woman struggled to take the transmitter and respond.

“Repeat, one minute 45 seconds and closing, what’s your status?” A crackle. “Mar? Lin?” The transmitter lit up with each word.

Looking panicked, the woman turned to Hux with wide eyes. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to be answering.” She whispered

“It doesn’t matter, just get her here.” Hux hissed out in annoyance.

“Mar, what’s your status?” This time she gripped the transmitter and was able to speak over the radio.

“Your highness,” the woman spoke

“Lin what’s going on?” The breath was quick coming from the other end, winded.

“The- one of the engineers thought there was a problem with a fuel cell…” She let go of the button and let out a long sigh, looking between Ren and Hux. “We’ve prepared for takeoff your highness.”

“One minute 45 seconds and closing, be ready for takeoff.” From the sounds, whoever had the transmitter was on the run.

“Copy.” Was the terse reply. Hux, Ren and the woman waited as troops formed up around them, facing the trail that the queen would be coming down withing minutes. Hux felt almost unable to control the delight at capturing someone who could bring so much of the galaxy under the control of the First Order. And it had been too easy.

“Thirty seconds Lin, I don’t hear the engines you need to be ready!” Again, came the voice over the transmitter.

“We’re ready.” Sounding dead, the woman responded to the transmission with closed eyes.

“Hold formation!” Hux yelled and his soldiers snapped to position, waiting for whoever was going to come out of those trees.

[snelbz]

Ghosts of Christmas Past

Christmas in July {Day 6}

Aelin Galathynius

Written with my wonderful best friend, @tacmc​.

Aelin hated the holidays. They were full of wretched memories and the realization that she was completely, utterly alone. Her parents had passed away when she was a child, and all of her friends had gone off and married the loves of their lives, leaving Aelin to spend the holidays alone or get pity invites to their family gatherings.

It was now a dark, snowy Christmas Eve and Aelin was sitting in her pajamas watching Miracle on 34th Street with a bowl of popcorn and a Rumchata filled hot cocoa. With a yawn, she stretched out her legs and let her little fireplace warm her naked toes until her eyelids fluttered shut.

Sleep.

She just needed sleep for her pity party to end. So, what? She had no family and was single. That didn’t mean the holidays had to be horrible. She would wake up the next day and go to Aedion and Lysandra’s and all would be well. She would laugh and eat too much and most likely drink too much.

Sleep.

She just needed a little bit of sleep.

Hours later, she awoke with a gasp, sitting up and looking around her townhouse.

She saw no obvious reason for why she’d been ripped from sleep, but she settled back into the pillows, knowing she should go up to her bed.

Then she heard it.

A rattling sound of metal dragging across the floor was getting louder and louder, almost as if it was getting closer. It sounded as if it was directly above her head. She glanced to the stairs, waiting for someone, something to make an appearance and then-.

Sam.

Sam was standing on the landing of her stairs.

Aelin froze, blood running cold. “Sam?”

He smiled, bright and wonderful, that same smile that she had fallen for so many years ago. “Hello, Aelin. Merry Christmas.”

Aelin glanced at the clock on the wall. He was right, it was just after midnight. “I- You’re…”

“Dead?” He asked, brows raised. “Sure am. Wanna go for a walk?”

Aelin hesitated, she couldn’t breathe. She opened her mouth to ask him another question, but he just shook his head. “Come with me and your questions will be answered.”

Before she could move, before she could get up, she found herself standing in the snow, the sun blindingly bright against the stark white surrounding her.

There was a little girl skating on the frozen lake. A young man followed her closely, lifting her in the air, making her giggle.

Aelin gasped and breathed, “Dad…”

She felt the tears beginning to fall as she asked, “What is this? Dad!”

“He can’t hear you,” Sam said, standing an inch behind her.

“I don’t understand,” Aelin whispered.

“This is Christmas Eve,” Sam said, gesturing around. “When you were ten.”

The Christmas before her parents died. Aelin watched as the younger version of herself skated around, hand in hand, with her father. She remembered that day. She used to love skating with her father.

“Why did you bring me here?” She asked, her voice as cold as the air around them,

“To remind you,” he said.

She snapped, “Of what?”

“That you used to love Christmas.”

As if his words were a trigger, she suddenly found herself in the cold, unfriendly den of Arrobyn’s home.

After her parents had passed away, Aelin found herself in Arrobyn’s care. He was her only remaining family, being her father’s brother. A horrible bastard, one that only cared about himself.

A young Aelin entered the room, sobbing silently as she plopped down in the corner of the den, where a Christmas tree should have been but wasn’t. Arobynn didn’t do Christmas.

He had gone off somewhere that morning, leaving an 11-year-old Aelin alone on Christmas morning.

Aelin watched her younger self, her heart aching just as much as it had that morning so many years before.

Sam brushed his fingers along her forearm. “I wish I had known you then. I would’ve spent Christmas with you.”

Aelin knew that. Sweet Sam. He had loved her when she hadn’t yet loved herself.

“I hated him,” Aelin said, as her younger self stood up, dried her eyes, and began her chores. “I felt nothing pwhen he died, and maybe that makes me a horrible person but I don’t care.”

Before Sam could reply, the front door swung open and Arobynn entered. The snow was swirling outside, a storm brewing.

Aelin stopped from where she was dusting the mantle. “Merry Christmas,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t know she had been crying.

He didn’t acknowledge her words, only taking a second to look over her cleaning. “You missed the second level of the mantle.”

With that, he swept out of the room and Aelin watched as her knees hit the wooden floors and she began the cry again.

“What’s this to remind me of?” She whispered, bitterness filling her voice.

“Of the moment you stopped loving Christmas.”

Suddenly, she found herself watching as Sam — more solid and corporeal than the man standing next to her — hung ornaments on a lit tree in the corner. Christmas music was merrily playing from the television and he hummed along, making the apartment as festive as possible before-.

The door opened and Aelin stride in wearing her high school cheer uniform. She froze when she saw the decorations. “What are you doing?”

He softly smiled at her, “I thought this place could use some-.”

“You know how I feel about this holiday,” she said, dropping her backpack on the couch and heading for their bedroom. She shut the door behind her and the sound of the lock clicking filled the room.

When Arrobyn has died from a heart attack when she was sixteen, rather than go into the foster system, Aelin petitioned the state for emancipation; to see her, for all intents and purposes, as an adult. It was granted and with the inheritance she received from her parents, she got a cheap apartment across town from the high school and paid a full year’s rent. And then she met Sam. He was a couple years older than her, having went to high school with her. He’d been the light in her dark tunnel, an anchor for her to hold onto when she felt like she was drowning. He knew her inside and out. And he knew how she felt about this time of year.

The Christmas music continued to play until he picked up the remote and muted the tv, and he knocked on the door. “Aelin, baby, open up.”

No response.

Aelin looked over at Sam. “I’ve seen enough.”

He just looked back at her, sadness in his brown eyes.

The knocking continued. “Please, babe, I just wanted you to enjoy Christmas with me.”

Nothing.

Sam grabbed his coat and headed for the door, snagging his keys that were hanging by the door.

Aelin whispered, “Sam, please take me home.”

Her voice was breaking as she watched him leave the apartment and she ran to the window, watched him get in his car, and leave.

“You know what happened next,” he said.

She did.

He’d left and went down to the corner store down the street, presumably to get her chocolates, since that was what was found on him. On his body.

There’d been a robbery and it had gone wrong. Sam had stepped in, to try and defuse the tension.

Sam didn’t walk back out of the store.

Aelin was sobbing. Not the high school Aelin. No, her younger self was scowling out the window as she watched Sam drive away.

So stupid.

So selfish.

“Take me home,” Aelin sobbed, reaching for Sam’s hand.

He tilted her chin up so that her eyes met his, his fingers feeling as solid as they did then.

“Why would you show me this?” She said, not bothering to wipe her eyes. She didn’t reflect much on Sam. When she did, she did not like the emotions that swept through her.

“To remind you of what your bitterness has lost you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her brow.

Aelin’s eyes fluttered shut as a cry sputtered out of her lips. And when she opened them once more, she was alone in her bedroom.

She could still feel him, could still smell him. Trembling fingers reached up to her cheeks and they came away wet.

“Crying already? But your night has just begun.”

Aelin spun around, horror sweeping through her as she beheld Chaol, leaning against her doorframe.

Her face paled. “Are you- have you- when-.”

Chaol gave her a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not dead. No matter how many threats you threw my way when we broke up.”

“How are you- is this all in my head?” She asked, running a hand down her face. “Did I fall downstairs and hit my head? Am I slowly bleeding out or something?”

Chaol just laughed and shook his head. “You already know the answer to that.” He took a step towards her and held out his hand. “Come on.”

Aelin threw her head back and sighed, wiping at her face and when she looked back down, she reached out and took his hand in hers.

When they appeared in the middle of a Christmas party at Manon and Dorian’s, Chaol didn’t let go of her hand. Aelin didn’t either.

It still felt right to hold his hand.

It had only been a few months since Aelin and Chaol had a very dramatic, very explosive break up. Having the same friend circle, they had to get over their issues pretty quickly, and surprisingly enough, they’d had more meaningful conversations in the past three months than they’d had in the year and a half they’ve been together.

Aelin looked over at him and then her eyes locked on as he walked by. She looked back at the Chaol holding her hand and said, “The world does not need two of you.”

Chaol grinned, eyes bright. “Same to you, A. You were invited to this party, you know.”

Yes, she was, but she had politely declined.

“Rather stay at home by yourself and get drunk watching old movies?” Chaol asked with a side glance.

Aelin squeezed his hand before sighing. “Alright. Why are we here?”

Chaol shook his head. “Really? You have to ask? Aelin, look at all these people. These are your friends. They love you. And yet, you’re not here. Why? Because it’s a Christmas party and you’re the grinch.”

Aelin scoffed. “I am not!”

Ghost Chaol just rolled his eyes. “You could be having the time of your life at this party. You should’ve come.”

Aelin said nothing. She simply snatched her hand out of his and crossed her arms. “I get it. Take me home now, weird ghost of Chaol.”

“Can’t do that,” he mused, leaning back against the wall. He was seeming to scan the room. “You’ve still got to learn something from me.”

“And what would that be?” Aelin tried not to pout as she watched her friends having fun, playing games, exchanging presents, drinking and being merry. Chaol just looked over at her and Aelin interrupted him. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me.”

Chaol winked at her and said, “We’ll come back here in a bit. I want to show you somewhere else.”

He held out his hand again and as Aelin grabbed it, she looked up and saw Rowan talking to Lorcan and Fenrys.

She could’ve sworn he was looking at her, too.

“He likes you,” Chaol sang.

Aelin lifted a brow. “Pardon?”

“Whitethorn. He’s into you.” When Aelin rolled her eyes, Chaol’s grin widened. “I know you’re all bitter about Christmas and love and all that shit, but you should give him a chance. When you’re ready. He’s a good guy.”

Aelin had to admit she was attracted to Rowan, but she would never admit that to Chaol. “On with it,” she hissed.

In the blink of an eye, they were standing out in the snow. Aelin, still im her pajamas and fuzzy socks, didn’t feel any chill whatsoever as they passed a sign that read Endovier, Home for Children. Aelin had spent three months in the orphanage after her parents passed while her emancipation was going through. She hated it there.

“Why the hell are we here?” She snapped.

Chaol simply gestured her toward the front window. “It’s tradition here that every year, at midnight on Christmas, they come together and open their gifts.”

Aelin peered inside the front window and froze.

There wasn’t a miserable face in the room. Kids were tearing paper off of presents, eating candy, making crafts. The teenagers and older kids helped the younger kids. There was music filtering out through the windows.

“Where did they get the money for presents?” She asked, turning around to look at him.

His hands were in his pockets as he stepped closer. “They made most of them. Some of the older kids with jobs helped them buy them. They’re all a big family.”

“Family,” Aelin repeated. “Once again, that thing I don’t have,” she spit.

“Don’t you get it, Aes?” He asked, frustration written on his face.

“Get what?” She yelled, stepping away from him and throwing her hands out. “Get that I’m alone, just like I am every year?”

He grabbed her wrist, making her look at him.

He asked, quietly, “Don’t you get that you do have a family?”

Aelin quickly looked away from him, wanting to break eye contact, needing to.

“Blood does not make family, Aelin,” Chaol said, gently. “Circumstances do not dictate your future.”

Aelin’s eyes lined with silver, tears pooling her eyes for the second time that night.

“We all love you,” Chaol went on. “We want you to be happy and seeing you so miserable around the holidays...well, we hate it. We don’t like seeing you like that. You deserve the world, Aelin Galathynius. You deserve the world.”

Aelin watched the kids inside. They were hugging one another, laughing, showing off their gifts. None of them had parents, they were all just like her. And yet? They were happy. Joyful. Dwelling in the holiday season, giving into the spirit of Christmas.

“My father’s favorite holiday was Christmas,” Aelin said, quietly. “My mother used to decorate the house and walk around singing carols, baking cookies, the works.”

Chaol watched her thoughtfully as she reminisced. “Don't you think that they’d want that love to live on? That they’d want you to enjoy every minute of your life, both around Christmas and every other day of the year?”

Aelin didn’t answer. She kept watching the kids inside the house, watching their joy, their holiday spirit.

“Take me back,” Aelin whispered. “Please.”

Chaol sighed and took her hand again.

Before she could blink, they were back in her bedroom. He didn’t say anything, just pressed a kiss to her cheek, let go of her hand and stepped back. He smiled at her and raised a hand. He snapped.

Aelin sat up in bed with a gasp. Her face was still wet from the tears she’d been crying, and she wiped her face and laid back on the bed.

“Going back to sleep so soon?”

Her eyes shot open and sat up, turning to look beside her.

Rowan was lounging on her bed, a smirk on his handsome face. “My turn,” he said.

Aelin blushed and said, “Past, present and...future, huh?”

Rowan swing his legs off the side of the bed and walked around, stopping in front of her. He tipped her chin up until she was looking up at him. “I hate to tell you this, but you aren’t going to like all of the future you’re about to see.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, already having guessed that.

She was still looking into his green eyes when she noticed the room around them had changed.

They were no longer in her bedroom, they weren’t even in her house.

No, they were downtown in a hospital room. Aelin was lying in the bed, hooked up to a series of machines.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “If I don’t gain Christmas spirit I’m going to die? Really?”

Rowan’s green eyes softened as he perched himself on the edge of the hospital cot. “Not exactly. You are heading down the wrong road, though, Aelin. Can you tell me why?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” She asked, arms crossed.

She would be lying if she said that seeing herself lying in a hospital bed, near death, wasn’t unsettling.

“What happened to me?” Aelin asked when Rowan didn’t answer.

Rowan studied her thoughtfully. “You pushed everyone away,” he said, at last.

Aelin brushed her fingers along the heart monitor. “Why?”

Rowan watched her without saying a word. It wasn't until Aelin looked at him with shining blue eyes that he said, “Because you were dwelling in the past. Aelin, no one is telling you not to feel pain from the past. But, the point of a painful past is to learn from it, not to let it control you.”

“What the fuck is the point of my parents dying, huh?” Aelin asked, anger rising. “Why is it so necessary that I like a stupid holiday?”

Rowan watched her, emotions even as he watched her outbreak. “We all feel pain, Aelin. My parents died, too. But we can’t let our pasts define us, control us. They’re still with us, our parents. They’re here, Aelin. And your parents want your future to be bright, to be full of happiness. They want to see you smile, to celebrate, to see Christmas as a time spent with friends, not a time of despair.”

Aelin refused to look at him, she refused to let him see the tears running down her face.

She didn’t want this. Didn’t want a future of misery and loneliness. Didn’t want to allow the bitterness that had taken root in her heart to expand and take over.

“I don’t know what do, Rowan,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes tightly and when she opened them again, she was outside.

It was dark and it was snowy, but had none of the warmth and cheer that the orphanage had had. No, she was cold and confused and...alone.

“Rowan?” She spun around and looked for him, but she was completely and utterly alone in the empty field. She backed up and fell, and fell and fell and fell, until her back hit soft ground. She stood, finding herself a dark, deep...grave.

“Rowan?” She   called. When there was no reply, she screamed, louder, “Rowan? Please help me!”

He never came.

Aelin fell to the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her tears fell freely. This was it. This was her life. Her future.

“I don’t understand!” She screamed, eyes burning.

“I don’t understand.”

But she did understand. She was angry, bitter. And the only person making her feel that way, no matter how many times she had tried to blame it on others, was herself. She had lost her parents, and then her first love...but now, on their favorite holiday, she was alone and pissed off. She was tainting their memories by pushing them away, by pretending that the joy and goodness of the holiday season didn’t exist. She missed them. Missed her parents, missed Sam. But instead of pretending Christmas didn’t exist, she should spend Christmas keeping their memories alive. She needed to let go of the anger, let go of the bitterness...and live.

“Rowan,” she whispered. “Rowan, please.”

Fingers tilted her chin up, and her watery gaze locked onto his.

“You’ve got to let it go, Aelin, all of it. The anger, the bitterness, the animosity. Or else you’ll have nothing to hold onto.”

Another sob wracked her body and Rowan leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened them, she was alone.

She was on her couch and she was alone.

The fire still roared in the corner, Fleetfoot was asleep in the recliner and Aelin was struggling to breathe.

She hopped out of bed and dashed up the stairs, quickly getting ready and hopping in her car. She got to Manon and Dorian’s and didn’t hesitate until she was on the front step, about to knock on the door. She looked down at the dress and heels she wore and suddenly felt stupid.

The party had been going on for hours. They wouldn’t want her there. Aelin had made it perfectly clear how she felt about Christmas, and now she was just going to walk in and convince everyone otherwise?

Aelin turned around and walked back down the front porch steps. She was a fool for coming, a fool for believing her dreams had been a reality, a fool for thinking they’d want her there.

“Aelin?”

She turned around at her name being called and found Lysandra halfway out the door. “Hey, Lys.”

Lysandra asked, “What are you doing?” Aelin’s enter body sagged. She was right, they didn’t want her here, they would-. “Where are you going?”

She turned and looked at her best friend. “I was just going to go home. It’s almost over and I don’t want to intrude and-.”

“Intrude?” Lysandra’s voice was surprised as she stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind her. “Babe, you were invited to this party. No one cares when you show up, all we care about is that you’re here. Now, come on. We were just about to do Secret Santa.”

Aelin stood there in the snow, staring at her. “I- I don’t have a gift.”

Lysandra stepped down the stairs and linked her arm through Aelin’s. “Aes, you are the gift.” She led her up the stairs. “And Rowan is going to be very happy you’re here. He’s been asking about you all night.”

A small smile tugged on Aelin’s lips. It appears ghost Chaol was right about that one.

The moment Aelin walked through the door, she was met with smiles and hugs. The house was decorated in reds and greens and golds. Dorian had done a great job, as Aelin knew he was most likely the one to have decorated. Manon probably just sat on the couch with a glass of wine watching him work.

That was precisely where she was sitting now and when Aelin joined her she glanced over. “Didn’t think we’d see you tonight.”

Aelin caught her eye as she drank from her wine glass. “I didn’t either, but...figured it was time to stop being miserable.”

Manon only nodded, taking a sip as well. “Does this mean I’m the only one who hates Christmas now?”

Aelin chuckled and said, “I guess so.”

“Hey.”

She looked up and saw Rowan sitting on the arm of the couch. “Hey, you.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think you were coming.”

Aelin looked around and caught Chaol’s eye. He was smirking as he talked to Dorian. She could only shake her head and chuckle. “I didn’t either, but why stay at home when I could spend time with my friends?”

Rowan’s smile widened as he held out his hand to her. “Care to go for a walk?”

Aelin didn’t hesitate. They walked outside, the back porch dusted with newly fallen snow. Rowan shrugged off his jacket and hung it over Aelin’s shoulders.

“I had a weird dream tonight,” Aelin confessed. “After I fell asleep at, like, eight.”

Rowan’s green eyes gleamed. “Yeah? What about?”

Aelin opened her mouth and closed it just as quickly. She didn’t want to sound crazy. And she surely would.

“Christmas,” she replied, simply.

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Maybe it wasn’t a dream at all.”

Aelin raised a brow. “No?”

“Maybe it was the universe telling you that you belong, and that everything is going to be okay.”

His fingers brushed Aelin’s softly as Aelin tilted her head up toward the sky above, allowing the snow to grace her lips, her eyelashes.

“I think you’re right.”

They stayed out there until Aelin realized she couldn’t feel her fingers. Rowan lead her back inside and sat her down on the open loveseat, surrounded by her family. He returned with a mug of hot chocolate and handed it to her, before sitting down next to her. His arm wrapped around the back of the couch and without thinking about it, Aelin leaned into his side. She tended slightly as he looked down at her.

But then his arm slipped down around her shoulders and pulled her in closer. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Aelin decided then that her parents and Sam, wherever they were, were watching with a smile on their faces as she celebrated their favorite winter holiday surrounded by her friends, her family.

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: The Meeting (Chapter 7)

In which there is a late-night meeting full of snark and Emma struggles with her memory. 

Please note that the italics in this chapter denote flashbacks not dreams. That’s pretty clear from the context, but just to be sure :)

Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time the Saviour is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from her son and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Hook are soulmates, working together within their shared dreams to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from the clutches of evil yet again. (Alternate 3B, set in the What Dreams May Come universe)

Rating: A hard M

Tagging: @teamhook @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @bonbonpirate @lfh1962 @laschatzi @katie-dub @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop

Anyone wishing to be added to or dropped from this tag list, please do say so.

Read it on AO3

The Meeting: 

It was a good thing she’d decided to walk, reflected Emma as she left the bookstore. She  could seriously use some time in the fresh air to clear her head. 

What was it about Killian Jones that got to her like this? He was just so... so...

Hot, her mind supplied. But it was more than that. He was so... comforting... so... familiar... so... baffling, she finally concluded. She could not shake the certainty that she knew him, though how that could be possible she had no idea. She knew only that standing close to him for that brief, intense moment at the door of the bookstore with the warm and warmly familiar comfort of his arms around her she’d found her mind awhirl with what she was prepared to swear were memories. Memories of him and his son —her son?— living together, being a family. Talking, laughing, arguing, cooking meals together, eating ice cream in front of the TV. Helping Henry with his homework, both of them tearing their hair out over his algebra problems, Killian breezing in and making them look easy. The light of understanding breaking across Henry’s face. Naval academy, love. Making Henry go to bed. Mo-om, can’t I just watch one more? Going to bed with Killian. Falling asleep in his arms, her head on his chest, the stump of his arm nestled in the small of her back. Sex with him —God, how could she remember that?— His hand on her, his mouth, the look on his face as he worshipped her body, the look on it when she reversed their positions and worshipped his. I want you the way I want to breathe, Emma. How he challenged her, blue eyes flashing, how they challenged each other, the push and pull of a loving relationship between strong-willed equals. I love you more than my life, Swan, but you are being bloody infuriating right now. —Oh, I’m being infuriating? —Yes, and you’re wrong.

Above all she remembered loving, and feeling loved, by both of them, Killian and Henry, with an intensity that she was certain she’d never known with Walsh. 

You hate Walsh. Those words in her head, spoken in her own voice —how could it be hers— had galvanised her and she’d remembered, absolutely remembered, that they were true.

And she had, in that moment, hated the man she called her husband, felt a surge of vicious fury against him that was both terrifying and right. 

Then the wind had swirled up and around her and into her very bones, dousing her fury and clouding her mind. 

What an odd little fantasy, another voice, firm and controlling and stronger than the first, had declared. And it seemed so real. And Emma in her confusion could only recall that she had come to the shop to buy some books on magic. She wasn’t quite sure why, only that learning magic —learning about magic, obviously, magic wasn’t real— learning about magic was somehow imperative. 

But now the wind was gone and the voice was gone, and Killian’s presence and the calm of his shop had cleared away the fog brought by the wind and the voice and she remembered again. Remembered what she’d thought were memories —they couldn’t really be memories— and remembered how she’d been made to forget. 

He’d seemed to be feeling something too, she recalled, before the wind —Emma shivered— had forced them inside. He’d spoken her name with such… hope? Reverence? Whatever it was it had squeezed her heart, wrapped it in iron-hard bands of sadness and yearning that made the interference of the wind almost a relief. 

Almost. That wind was fucking creepy. It was malevolent. It wanted to confuse her, wanted her to forget. 

What was that all about? 

And what was Killian about, she thought, swallowing down the surely irrational wave of hurt and betrayal she felt as she recalled her errand. Sending notes to the Nolans’ housemaid, weird notes in foreign languages at that. Just how the hell did he know Regina Mills? To Emma’s knowledge Regina had never been out of Storybrooke… although she couldn’t actually remember… when had she met Regina? Had they ever actually spoken before? Emma was certain they had but couldn’t call to mind a single memory of it. 

She was beginning to realise there were a lot of things she couldn’t remember. 

She felt no closer to sorting out her confusion when she arrived at the market and spotted Regina loading up her shopping bags. The other woman’s appearance always showed the effects of exhaustion and anxiety —did it?— but today she looked even worse than usual, her posture stooped and the circles under her eyes cavernous.

“Um, hey,” said Emma, approaching with what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Do you need a hand with those?”

Regina jumped and stumbled back, her eyes darting around in alarm. “No, it’s fi—” she began, but Emma had already picked up one of her bags. 

“I insist,” said Emma, feeling her own anxiety increase after that weird reaction. Had she done something to Regina that she couldn’t remember? What could possibly make the other woman react to simple civility like it was a threat?

“Sheriff, it’s really okay.” Regina followed her out of the market, her expression frantic. “I can carry it.” 

“Look,” snapped Emma, suddenly tired of oblique communication and of feeling so confused. She wanted something direct, straightforward, comprehensible. “I don’t really want to carry your groceries. But we need to talk. I have something for you.” 

“Something… for me?”

“Yeah. It’s a note. Here.” She withdrew the small slip of paper from her jacket pocket and handed it to Regina. “It’s from the owner of the new bookstore that’s opening soon.” 

Regina took the scrap of paper from her hand and read it quickly. Emotions flickered across her face, surprise, fear, confusion, a faint flash of hope. Her hand began to tremble. “Who— who gave you this?” 

“I told you, the owner of the new bookstore. He said to tell you it’s called Jolly Roger Books. It’s in the old cannery building, near the harbour.” 

Regina was shaking so hard now Emma was afraid her knees might collapse. “Jolly Roger…” she whispered. “But that’s impossible.” She looked up and there was a sharpness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. “What does this man look like?”

Gorgeous. Emma blushed as the word sprang into her mind. “Um, well, he has dark hair and blue eyes. So blue. Tallish, but not super tall. Just the right height. Scruffy beard, slender, but like, strong. His arms are strong.” 

Oh fuck, she’d said that last one out loud.

Regina gave her a sardonic look that seemed out of character. Did it? “Handsome?” she asked, in a tone with some definite snark. 

Emma bristled. She may be attracted to Killian but she was also married —was she?— yes damn it she was, and she didn’t like what Regina seemed to be implying. “He’s not ugly,” she replied coolly. 

“And does he—” Regina cleared her throat, her voice breaking over the question. “Does he have a— any children?”

“Yeah, a son.”

Regina’s hand gripped the sleeve of Emma’s jacket, knuckles stark white against the red leather. “Have you seen this son?” 

Emma reflected that this was probably the weirdest, most intense conversation she’d ever had. “Um, yeah. I met him in Granny’s the first day they arrived. Nice kid. Likes Indiana Jones.” She hesitated, unsure if it was wise to continue, but something deep in the depths of her mind urged her to say the words. “His name’s Henry.” 

Regina let out a whoosh of breath and her shoulders sagged. She whispered something Emma couldn’t quite hear but it might have been “Thank the gods.” 

“You all right, Regina?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Regina stood and straightened her shoulders, releasing Emma’s sleeve and taking her grocery bag. She seemed taller, and for the first time since their odd conversation began there was no fear in her expression. “Thank you, Sheriff. I have to go now, or I’ll be late. But thank you.”  

---------

Emma went home. She was meant to be out on patrol, but her bug drove her to her —Walsh’s, you’ve never felt at home there— house, and then her feet carried her inside it. Straight to Walsh’s study. 

He wasn’t there, and the door was unlocked. Emma had no idea whether it was normally locked or not, she’d never gone in before except to see him, and even when she knew he was home she tended to avoid it. 

Why do you do that?

That voice in her head, she’d heard it before. For as long as she could remember it had been there, popping up unexpectedly to encourage her or warn her or to remind her of things she’d forgotten, but since her embrace with Killian that morning it hadn’t shut up. It sounded so much like her own voice. Emma remembered —did she remember— hearing a recording of herself, someone had taken a video? —when was this— and she’d cringed watching it. Her foster mother had laughed —wait, what foster mother— and told her that everyone thought their voice was weird when they heard it from the outside. But Emma still hadn’t believed her voice really sounded like that. 

This voice sounded like that. 

Why do you avoid the study, Emma? the voice persisted. 

“I don’t know.” Her words reverberated off the dark-panelled walls, loud in the silence and unnatural stillness of the room. Emma shivered. 

The silver box was where she expected to find it —how had she known it was there— and when she picked it up she shivered again. It was cold, a coldness deriving from intent as much as material, and its gleam as she held it up in a dusty shaft of sunlight seemed somehow malign. 

What was it? 

That’s not important, said the voice. Look inside. 

Emma flipped open the delicate lid, nearly spilling the dark, sparkling powder inside as her hand began to shake in fear. 

Why are you afraid?

“This— this powder,” she said, to no one in the room. 

Yes?

“It’s dangerous.” 

It is. 

“But what is it?”

Take some. Find out. 

“Find out how?”

You know how. 

Emma pulled a clear plastic evidence bag from her jacket pocket —when had she put that there— and tipped some of the powder inside it. 

Not too much or he’ll notice. 

“I know.” 

She poured in what she reckoned was about a gram, then carefully closed the box and replaced it on Walsh’s desk, precisely where she had found it. 

A little to the left. 

Emma adjusted the box. Now it was precisely where she’d found it. 

Good. Now let’s get the hell out of here. 

-----------

Henry burst through the shop door and raced over to where Killian was shelving books, bursting with excitement. “Did you see her? What did she say? Is she all right?”

Killian turned and raised an eyebrow. “Hello to you too, lad, I’m fine, thank you for asking. How was your day?” 

Henry sighed. “It was fine. It was a school day. So did you see her?”

Killian braced himself. “Not yet.” 

“What? But Dad—”

“Now, don’t fly into a lather, Henry.” Killian held up his hands placatingly. “I’ve sent her a message.” 

“A message,” repeated Henry, in the tone of one who canNOT believe his ears.  

“Aye, a message. Telling her to seek me out.”

“Seek you out.” Henry’s face and voice displayed such a uniquely teenage mixture of frustration and petulance that although he knew he mustn’t Killian almost smiled. 

“Aye. I know it’s not what you’d hoped for, lad, but remember that until we really have the lay of the land here we must be discreet. That wind you described was outside the shop this morning and behaving very boldly indeed. Whoever is responsible for it seems to be watching us, and if I’m observed speaking to Regina there may be unpleasant consequences. Best to let her come to us. She presumably will know how to do so without attracting undue attention.”

Henry thought for a moment. “I guess that makes sense,” he conceded, though disappointment still laced his voice. “Do you know when she’ll be here?”

“No idea, I’m afraid. I’ve had to be a bit obscure in the wording of the note, but I expect she’ll understand. It will depend on when she’s able to get away without being noticed, I imagine.” 

“What did the note say?”

“‘Quaeris quid sit in libris.’ Can you translate that?”

“Um,” Henry hesitated. What with all the upheaval of the past few weeks and the long, tiring journey from New York they hadn’t had a Latin lesson in some time, but the boy had a good memory. “What you look for is in a book?” 

“Excellent. What you are looking for, or more precisely what you seek.” 

Henry nodded, frowning slightly as he thought. “So, like, the books in the shop. And also, maybe, my storybook?”

“Aye, lad I’m hoping she’ll think of both those things. We know she’s seen you so she’ll be seeking to know that you’re safe. We just need to connect the idea of you to the location of the bookstore. I’m hoping the note will be enough.” 

“I don’t know, Mom’s smart but that’s really vague.” 

“Indeed, but I asked your mum, Emma that is, she’s the one delivering the note—”

“Wait, Mom was here again?” Henry’s excitement returned in a rush. 

“—to explain who it was from and give the name of the shop. That should be sufficient.” 

“Sure, maybe, but Mom was here again?”

Killian grinned. “She bought some books.” 

“All right, Mom!” Henry pumped his fist in the air then bumped it against Killian’s. “Do you think she’s remembering? I think she must be remembering.”

“Er… maybe, but don’t get too—”

“Emma’s remembering and Regina will be here soon—”

“Henry—”

“—and we’ll break the curse and everything will be okay again!” 

“Henry, there’s still a lot—”

“Dad, I know we still have a long way to go, but come on! This is good! Isn’t it?” He grinned expectantly and Killian was helpless to resist. Just like Emma when she got on a roll, the lad was a force of nature. 

“Aye, I suppose it is. And your mum —Emma— she left her books here.”

“So she’ll be back.” 

“Aye.” 

Henry was practically dancing. “She’ll come back and she’ll find her magic and she’ll fall in love with you again and then we can break this curse together and…” 

Killian sighed and handed Henry some books to shelve, figuring the boy might at least make himself useful while he enthused. Henry’s positivity was impossibly infectious, and although Killian tried to follow his own advice and not get too carried away he felt his spirits rising under the influence of it. Despite everything there had been some positive developments, he reflected. Now they just needed Regina to figure out that note.  

-----------

Some hours later Killian jerked awake, every sense on high alert. The clock on his bedside table informed him that it was just past three am, and the instincts that had kept him alive for hundreds of years told him that there was someone downstairs in the shop. Rising silently from his bed he stopped to check on Henry —sound asleep; he slept like the dead, same as Emma— then crept downstairs, his slippered feet making no noise on the iron steps. 

He was nearly at the bottom when a voice emerged from a densely shadowed corner. A familiar, haughty voice. 

“Well, Captain,” it said. “I admit I did not expect to see you again.” 

“I’m often surprising like that, Your Majesty.” 

She stepped out of the shadows and into a shaft of moonlight that shone through one of the tall windows. Killian hissed in his breath, barely managing to keep his expression neutral. She was so different if he’d seen her in the street he might not have recognised her. 

“It’s all right,” she said. “You can gawp in horror, I know what I look like.” 

Killian pulled himself together, summoning every scrap of his old charm. “Regal as ever,” he said with a bow. 

“Don’t patronise me,” she spat. “I’ve been living in a nightmare for over a year, it’s taken its toll on more than just my face.” 

“I can’t even imagine how difficult it’s been,” said Killian and Regina blinked, taken aback by his sincerity. “I would have arrived sooner but we wanted to be as sure as possible of what we were dealing with before I did.” 

“We?”

“Emma and I.” 

“Emma? But— Emma is under the curse. I’m sure of it.” 

“Aye, she is. We have— other ways of communicating.” 

Regina opened her mouth to ask what he felt certain would be a very pointed question, but he cut her off. “There’s a great deal we need to discuss, Regina. Perhaps you’d like to sit down, and start by telling me why you chose to answer my note in the middle of the bloody night.”

To his relief, she followed him to the sofa without further comment, sitting as elegantly as ever, her posture straight and her expression cool on her ravaged face. “I’m being watched,” she said. “That’s why I’m here in the middle of the night. It’s the only time she’s not watching me. I suppose even she must sleep.” 

Killian frowned. “Who is ‘she’ and how does she watch you?”

“”She,’” Regina drew out the word with a touch of her old flair and drama. “Is Zelena, caster of this curse, and apparently my sister.” 

“Your sister?!”

“Yes. Cora’s elder daughter.” 

“Cora—” Killian was incapable of speaking the name without a snarl. 

Regina waved her hand “Yes, but that’s not what you need to focus on here. The point is she watches me, constantly. She uses a crystal ball, one that lets her see everyone and everything in Storybrooke. I thought it best she didn’t see me meeting you, so I waited until the eyes on me were gone and I poofed myself here.” 

“Poofed? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that term.”

“How odd, since it was your girlfriend who coined it. I transported magically.” 

“You have your magic?” Killian’s voice rose in surprise. “Why haven’t you used it? Against this Zelena, I mean?”

Regina hesitated. “Before I answer that, I need some information from you in return.”

Killian had expected no less. “Fair enough. Ask me anything you like.” 

“Well, to start how are you here? The last I saw of you was when you left us in the Enchanted Forest. How did you get to this realm? How do you communicate with Emma? And why is… why is my son here with you?”

Killian couldn’t help but but bristle at her tone, though he kept his temper firmly under control. The Queen had always brought out the worst in him, and she evidently hadn’t changed as much as her appearance might suggest. “I came to this realm not quite two years ago, using a magic bean,” he replied, rather stiffly. “How I communicate with Emma is for the moment not up for discussion and Henry is here with me because he is my son, legally that is, according to documents that I am assured are indistinguishable from authentic ones. He’s been in my sole care since Emma came to Storybrooke.”

The hauteur drained from Regina, and she seemed to wilt from the loss of it and the weight of her relief. “So… he’s fine?” she whispered. “He’s safe? No one has… hurt him.” 

“He is hale and hearty and as willful as both his mothers.” Killian offered a small smile. “I’ve looked after him well, Regina.” 

Her lips twitched in response but her expression was clouded with confusion, and possibly a hint of shame. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t— why— why would you do that?” 

“The documents I have present the lie that he’s my son, but the truth is not that far off. I’m his stepfather.” Killian held up his hand for her to see, his wedding ring sparkling in the faint moonlight. “Emma and I got married, a few days before she left to come here.” 

Regina laughed, her moment of humility clearly over. “How the hell did that happen?”

“In the usual manner for this realm, Emma assures me,” he replied coolly. “There was a judge and a witness, and for the first time in my considerable experience neither were there to charge me with or accuse me of a crime.”

She rolled her eyes. “What I meant was how did you get Emma to agree to it?” 

“I knew what you meant.” His voice was calm but glacially cold, and she was instantly defensive. 

“Well, come on, Hook, can you blame me for being surprised? Your feelings for her have always been pathetically obvious, but hers for you…” 

Killian reflected that not so very long ago this blatant mockery would have hurt him, hit him right where he was most vulnerable. He would have lashed out, hissed and spat like the wounded beast he’d been, insisted that he didn’t care about Emma’s feelings or that she was merely the means to an end for him. But a great deal had changed in a short time, and now he simply raised an eyebrow.

“I tell you I’ve taken care of your son for a year and you reciprocate by suggesting my wife doesn’t love me? Bad form, Your Majesty.” 

He was astonished to observe that she actually flushed. “I apologise,” she said stiffly. “I just want to be sure I understand everything.” 

“All you need to understand is that there were circumstances which at the moment are none of your concern, that accelerated our courtship somewhat.”  

(They’d been at the kitchen island in their apartment in New York, he regaling her with tales about his day, she magically altering Henry’s birth certificate and creating one for Killian, when she dropped the bombshell. 

“I think we should get married.” She tossed it out casually, like she was reminding him to pick up the dry cleaning or asking what he’d like for dinner. 

“— and so I said to Frank — wait, WHAT?”

“You heard me.” 

“Did I, though?” He knew his jaw was hanging open but had no strength to close it. 

She squirmed under his astonished gaze. “It’s just— we’re faking all these documents, and it depresses me a bit. I hate all this… this subterfuge. I want at least some of it to be real. If we get married, you’ll be Henry’s stepdad. There’ll be a real bond between you.” 

Killian managed to close his mouth as he absorbed this. “You just want to marry me for the sake of the lad, then?” He tried to conceal his hurt, but she read him as well as he did her.

“And, you know, maybe a little bit for me too,” she said softly. 

A wide grin broke across his face. “So you want to be my wife,” he purred, leaning into her space, hips first.  

“Maybe I do.” 

“And why might that be, Swan?” He kept his voice light but they both knew the import of the question.

She flushed. “You know why.” 

“Aye, I do, but I’d like to hear you say it, at least once.” He attempted to tease, to sound like he wasn’t pushing for more than she could give. “Especially if you seek the honour of my hand in marriage.” 

She took a deep breath. “So… I might, you know. Love you. Kind of.” 

“You love me kind of?” He thought his grin would split his face. “And you think that sufficient to entice me to matrimony?”

“I love you a lot, okay?” she burst out, trying to look exasperated though her eyes were soft. “You are the love of my life and that scares the shit out of me because I have lost everyone I ever cared about and I can’t lose you too. I want something solid between us before I go. Something that binds us together.” 

His face softened as the grin and teasing both fell away and he reached across the island to cup her cheek in his hand. “There is nothing more solid or binding than what is already between us, my love,” he said softly. “But I have no objection to making it legal. Despite how I might have wished to be the one to do the asking.” 

Emma covered his hand with hers and dropped a light kiss on the inside of his wrist, allowing herself just a moment of open vulnerability before taking refuge once again. “Look, I get that you’re old but that doesn’t mean you have to be so traditional all the time,” she snarked, returning her attention to the documents.  

“Traditions exist for a reason, Swan.” 

“Sure, but is it a good reason…”)

“Hook.” Killian was startled from his memories by Regina’s sharp tone. 

“Aye,” he replied. “So there you have it, my Queen. Henry is safe, we’re both here and now if you’d be so kind as to tell me your tale. What do you know about this curse? How and why was it cast, and why haven’t you used your magic against this Zelena?”

“I don’t know how it was cast.” Frustration laced Regina’s voice. “It came out of nowhere, with no warning, and what’s most troubling is that it wasn’t the Dark Curse.” 

“How did it bring everyone to Storybrooke, then?”

“I have no idea. I just told you, I don’t know how it was cast. I only had time for a brief look at it, but I remember thinking that it looked like the Dark Curse but not, like a— a distorted mirror image. Many of the elements were there, even what looked like my own magical signature, but it was still all wrong.” 

“Odd,” said Killian, stroking his chin as he thought. “Henry said something very similar about Storybrooke itself, that it was the same but not. And I myself observed that the forest surrounding the town seems rather… off.” 

“Otherworldly,” agreed Regina. “Not like the forest that was here during my curse. I admit I haven’t noticed anything odd about Storybrooke, but I only go to the market and the house, and… well, my mind has been on other things.” 

Killian nodded in understanding. “If that’s the case, then how did you come to meet this Zelena?”

“She introduced herself to me,” said Regina with a roll of her eyes. “Zelena has a penchant for grandstanding. Really, it’s such a cliche. The bwah hah hah villain revealing her plan just so she can cackle at her victims. And this woman literally cackles. I like to think I had more subtlety.” 

“Weeeell,” hedged Killian, recalling some of his past interactions with the Evil Queen. “You had your moments, Your Majesty. And your… outfits.” 

“Says the man who spent two hundred years in a flamboyant leather coat,” she sneered. 

“Fair point.” He conceded for the sake of the fragile peace between them, though he loved that coat. This realm’s clothing simply did not compare. 

Regina clearly was thinking along similar lines, if her wistful expression was anything to go by. “Anyway,” she said, “Immediately after the curse was cast, Zelena had me imprisoned. I woke up in some sort of storm cellar, in a cage. I broke out immediately, of course, only to find Zelena outside the door waiting for me. She preened and paraded and told me her story about being my sister. I didn’t believe her, which made her furious. I tried to leave and she attacked me. We duelled, but… her magic is more powerful than mine.” Regina paused, scowling at the memory. “I lost, and she knocked me out again. When I came to I was back in the cage, only this time there was a crystal ball next to me. In it I saw Henry, in New York. There was a man watching him. Zelena appeared, and told me that if I challenged her again the man would kill him. She may have been bluffing but I couldn’t risk it. I agreed to all her conditions in exchange for her promise to keep Henry safe. I didn’t trust her, but what choice did I have?”

“No choice at all.” Killian had a terrible feeling that he knew who the man watching Henry had been, and he fought back the rage that threatened to boil over within him. 

Regina shot him a surprised look, then continued. “She told me that this curse was my punishment, for all the advantages I’d had that she had been denied. Being raised by Cora and trained by Rumple is apparently what she considers advantages, what she thought should have been her birthright. She said she wanted me to experience the humiliation she had felt, and so she made me servant to Snow White.”

A bloody vicious sense of humour, Killian thought again. This Zelena certainly had the measure of Regina. Nothing could be more precisely engineered to humiliate the Queen than being forced to bow and scrape to Snow. 

“I have hated every second of my life since then, but I got through it by reminding myself that I was doing it for Henry, to keep him safe. That didn’t make things any better, but it gave me a purpose, a reason to go on. Then one day I was on my way to the market and I saw Emma. I was thrilled because I thought she was here to break the curse, but after days went by and nothing changed I got worried. It seemed like whenever I went out I saw her but she was just going about her day, like everything was normal, and I didn’t know what she was doing, if she was cursed too or just pretending. I started to get desperate so I said something to Snow about the new sheriff. She said Sheriff Swan had always been in Storybrooke and asked me if I’d been drinking. That’s how I knew Emma was under the curse. But there was no sign of Henry, so… well, you can imagine how I felt.”

“I can indeed.” 

“I’ve barely slept in months, every dream I have is of him. My days hold nothing but mindless drudgery, leaving my mind free to wander, to imagine all the ways that he could be miserable and alone. It’s been hell.” 

“I’m so sorry for all you’ve suffered,” said Killian, and he meant it. He’d only been Henry’s parent for a year but he knew that in Regina’s shoes he’d have fared no better. 

Regina gave him an odd look. “I believe you are,” she said. “You’ve changed, Hook.” 

“Aye,” he agreed, uncomfortable under her assessing gaze, rubbing at that spot behind his ear before he could stop himself. “But I’m not the only one. According to Henry, Snow and Charming haven’t escaped this curse unscathed themselves.” 

“No. The famous True Loves have become No Loves,” she replied with a smirk. “So I suppose that’s something.”

“From what Emma told me of the first curse,” said Killian, thinking hard as he spoke, “David and Mary Margaret managed to fall in love as their cursed selves even though you had manufactured a wife for him, and done your best to keep them apart.”

The haughty sneer returned. “What’s your point, pirate?”

“My point, my Queen, is that this curse has taken, if you’ll forgive me, a far cleverer tack. Rather than attempting to keep the lovers apart it has put them together but made them wish they weren’t.” 

“Again, what is your point?”

“My point is why, and how? How does someone turn true love into indifference? And why would they bother? If this curse is intended to punish you, what is the point of punishing others as well? Is it mere malice or something more?”

Regina shrugged though her small frown told him she was intrigued despite herself. “Does that matter?”

“I can’t say for certain of course, but I think it might. Henry has a theory about cursed relationships that I think is worth exploring. What do you know about the rest of the town and what this curse has done to them?”

“Not much, as I said I spend all my time in the house or running errands.”

“Is that by your choice or is something forcing you? Could you perhaps venture out for what Henry would call ‘recon’?”

“No, nothing is actually stopping me from going out more, I just didn’t see the point. I suppose I could look around, see if I notice anything... interesting. Though I won’t be able to keep Zelena from finding out, as I said she’s always watching me.” 

“Any information you could gather would be extremely helpful. I didn’t spend enough time in Storybrooke before the curse to really get a sense of what might have changed, and I’d rather not have Henry do too much snooping. I believe your Zelena has been watching him as well.” 

“What?!” she hissed, leaping to her feet, the Evil Queen abruptly returned in full force.  

“He’s fine—”

“He’s in danger! You have to take him away from here, immediately.” She stalked to the other end of the room, then turned on her heel and stalked back. Killian watched calmly. 

“I can’t do that,” he said. “We need him to break the curse.”

“Oh? And just how is he going to do that?”

“I don’t know, only that he’s an essential part of the endeavour.” 

Regina looked ready to explode, and Killian’s mind raced to find the words to placate her when an alarm rang shrilly and he jumped in his seat. 

“Damn,” she snarled, pulling her phone from her pocket. “I don’t have much longer. I’ll come back tomorrow, same time, and we will discuss this further.” 

“Aye,” he replied. Her tone brooked no argument and he reminded himself that he needed her on his side. 

“But before I go I’d like to see Henry.” She took a deep breath  “If that’s all right,” she added grudgingly, evidently aware that she also needed to remain on his good side if she wanted to see her son. 

Killian nodded, satisfied that they both knew the deal. “Of course. He’s upstairs.” 

Regina followed him up to the apartment, sitting on the edge of the sofa and twisting her hands anxiously as Killian rapped loudly on the divider between his and Henry’s sleeping areas. “Henry?” he called. “Sorry to wake you, lad, but will you come out here please?”

Henry groaned and mumbled incomprehensibly, but Killian merely rapped louder.

“Whatimzit?” the boy managed to enunciate, clearly still half asleep. 

“Never mind that, just come out here.” Killian rapped one final time for good measure. 

There was the sound of muttering and shuffling and then Henry emerged from behind the curtain, rubbing his eyes and scowling. “This better be good,” he grumbled. 

“I believe you’ll approve,” said Killian in amusement. “There’s someone here to see you.” 

“Someone…” Henry trailed off as he followed Killian’s gaze to where Regina had risen from the sofa and now stood, looking nervous. “MOM!” he cried, his eyes going wide. 

“Henry…” Regina opened her arms and he raced into them, squeezing her tightly. 

“Mom, I saw you and I was so scared…”

“I know, but I’m fine, really. Oh, Henry. You’ve grown so tall. Are you sure you’re all right? I’ve been so worried.” 

“I’m okay. I’m good. I’ve been with Da—, er Kill—, er Hook. I missed you. But I’m okay.” 

“Henry, I’m sorry, I can’t stay much longer. I just wanted to see you, to see that you’re okay and let you know that I am too. But I’ll come back tomorrow. I’ll see you again then?” She looked at Killian for confirmation. 

“Aye, I think he can miss a few hours of sleep to see his mother,” Killian agreed. “And I trust we can rely on your assistance, Regina? In breaking this curse?” He knew that they understood each other, but there was no harm in getting her explicit confirmation, particularly with Henry there to witness it. 

“Whatever you need from me,” she replied, “You can have. Now I know Henry is safe I feel much less like allowing Zelena to walk all over me.”

“Zelena?” Henry’s eyes were wide with interest. 

“Another time, lad.” Killian nodded to Regina. “Give your mum one last hug before she goes.” 

He busied himself on the other side of the room, allowing Regina and Henry privacy for their goodbyes. After several hugs and yawning hugely, Henry headed back to bed, and Regina approached Killian with a cautious determination that sat oddly on her confident shoulders. 

“There’s just one more thing I’d like to know, Hook,” she said. “How did you get Emma to remember you? The curse that returned us to the Enchanted Forest should have taken away her memories of Storybrooke and everything associated with it.” 

“Aye, and so it did.” 

“So how did you return them?”

“Oh, that was easy. She kissed me, and she remembered.” 

Regina’s jaw dropped. “But... that would mean...” 

He smiled blandly and gave her a small bow. “See you tomorrow, Your Majesty.” 

“Yes you will,” she replied, and disappeared in a swirl of purple smoke. 

[demaury]

Game On -- High School AU | Enemies-to-friends-to-lovers AU (chap.1)

Ten years after his father shipped him off to boarding school, Jude is back to Los Angeles for his senior year. As it turns out, relinking with his childhood friend isn't nearly as hard as it is to deal with his almost estranged father. 

Zero is the typical high school heartthrob and a basketball prodigy on the way to make a name for himself. Everything should be easy, but years in foster care and physical abuse don't make for the smoothest reunion with former teen-mom  and her perfect family. 

Really. They have a lot on their plate already.

Falling in love was not supposed to be an option. (read on ao3)

Jude Kinkade was many things.

Unfortunately, hopelessly naïve was one of those. Especially when it came to certain matters, he thought bitterly as he stared, probably for the umpteenth time that very morning, at his still desperately silent phone.

C’mon, it’s not that big of a deal, Kinkade.

I’ll call you when I get home.

Yep. Jude had been just that naïve apparently, he had been waiting for that exact thing to happen ever since, and it had already been five days.

The clicking sound of a pair of high heels caught his attention, and Jude quickly buried his phone in his jean pocket, affectedly tugging at his grey shirt while staring at his own reflection in the full-length mirror. Lionel Kinkade, née Hemsworth, and formerly known as Davenport, leaned against the doorframe of her stepson’s bedroom, heaving a loud sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Jude, honey, could you stop moping? It’s going to be just fine.”

Jude lifted his hazel eyes to her through the mirror, grumpily chewing at his bottom lip. “Being the new kid always sucks,” he grumbled.

Eight years of boarding school and here he was, back in Los Angeles for his senior year, as if all those years in-between had meant nothing. At a goddam public school, of all things. Don’t get him wrong, he hardly cared about the standing of his school, or the rankings, or whatever, really. He just wished he hadn’t been forced to abandon everything and everyone he knew, one random morning a month into the school year, just because his dad had suddenly decided he needed to.

“See it as an adventure. It’s scary but it could lead to some fun along the way,” his stepmom shrugged, like it was no big deal.

He gave her a pointed look. “I’ll be in this school for less than three months. What’s even the point? Dad could have left me at Ellis Harwood, that would have been just as fine,” Jude protested, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

He felt like they had had this conversation a thousand times already, and maybe they had, judging by the look on Lionel’s face. Was it his fault if his father was almost never around? What was he supposed to do, just not complain to the only other person in this house who didn’t belong to the cleaning staff?

Lionel waved dismissively. “Come on, you know he didn’t want that stupid story to affect your records.”

Jude huffed and shook his head.

If only the Principal of Ellis Harwood Institute, ME., hadn’t had the brilliant idea to flee the country with the donations made to the school by the wealthy parents of his students, then maybe Jude would have had the time to prepare before everything was packed up and he was on a plane back to Los Angeles.  The problem was that no private school in the whole country seemed to be accepting students out of the blue after the beginning of the first quarter, so Oscar Kinkade was told that money or not, his son would not start afresh until January. Unless, of course, he went to a public school. Jude wished he didn’t have to endure his father’s tantrum when he was told about it, but he did — at length.

Lionel finally stepped into the bedroom, affectionately adjusting the shirt on Jude’s shoulders, brushing away an invisible speck of dust.

“You’ve dealt with a bunch of rich assholes for eight years, that was scary,” she observed, then a wicked smile formed on her full lips: “Everybodywill want to get to know you, trust me. Time has made wonderful work of you.”

Instantly, Jude sarcastically snorted and looked away. In the course of the last year and a half, he had matured to a point where people everywhere were starting to notice him. Not in a weird, reproachful way, but with something that looked ridiculously close to approval. Attention was hardly the worst of his daily struggles, though. He had yet to get used to his quickly developing body, an upgraded version much taller and with much broader shoulders. As if all of a sudden his nearly ten years of swimming competitions had decided to catch up with him. He had been bumping his head, his shoulders, his knees, his elbows — literally any part of his body, really — more often during the last year than ever before in his entire life.

Kids always wanted to be taller, but nobody ever warned them about the downside of being tall.

The only positive so far? He had stopped feeling ridiculously self-conscious about his size in an all boy-school, but even that had been taken from him now.

Lionel glanced at her sparkling Cartier watch with a hint of disdain. “We should get going. I once learned at my expense that being fashionably late in high school is highly frowned upon.”

Jude rolled his eyes and went to grab his Eastpak from the empty desk. Most of his bedroom was still empty, save for the bookshelves that were literally crumbling under the weight of voluminous sci-fi novels that he used to devour a lifetime ago, and his trophies and medals in a corner that served as a reminder of his glory days on the swim team.

Jude half-heartedly followed his stepmom, barely listening to her pep-talk as they were heading downstairs.

Three months. It wasn’t like a lot could happen in less than three months.

Right?

*

Wrong.

A lot could happen in almost three months.

Jude stared, glowering, as Lionel’s ridiculously ostentatious red Porsche pulled away from the school’s sidewalk, drawing attention to her from every person within hearing distance.

What a way to be discreet.

He was going to kill her.

He forced a tight smile at the students who were looking at him, then he turned back and tried to drown himself in the flow of students heading for the doors marking the main entrance of the building.

Hollow Creek High was one massive block of concrete, almost popping out of nowhere at the corner of a street, buzzing with the energy of the city’s traffic and the warm, glowing Californian sun. It was a far cry from Ellis Harwood, sticking out of the woods and spreading its dozen different buildings over a glorious, perpetually tender-green field of grass, like the $45,000 a year hypocritical post-card it was. Since Internet and the technological revolution had hit the educational system, transferred students were receiving their new schedules by email, which was nice in a way because it meant he could skip the part where he’d have to present himself to the secretary’s office.

The problem was that he was literally walking in without knowing a single thing about the place.

And now he was standing in the middle of the hallway.

Okay, Kinkade.

It’s gonna be fine.

When he was done with his own personal affirmation, he looked up and was startled by a pair of blue eyes staring at him, belonging to a blonde girl leaning on a nearby wall. She didn’t shy away when he glanced back at her, instead, a frown soon appeared on her face as she was tugging at a strand of her hair. Jude couldn’t help but look behind his shoulder, which gave the girl enough time to disappear among the other students.

The bulletin board, where she had been standing, didn’t look like the worst thing to pretend to care about at the moment. He’d have pretty much cared about anything if it didn’t mean that he was standing there like an idiot. A quick glance at the board had him reconsidering his options, given that the only information on display were for last spring’s cheerleading try outs and last year’s prom night, he could only guess that no one really cared to update things here.

Great, he definitely looked like an idiot now. Jude retrieved his phone from his pocket to check the room number of his first class for the hundredth time, then looked up only to see the signs pointing in the right direction right above his head.

Second floor, then according to-

“Jude?”

Jude startled and scooted around, his eyes dropping onto two girls standing beside him.

He recognized one of them (the blonde one) as the girl who had been staring at him not a minute ago; her friend was a fairly shorter brunette, with straight dark hair, for some reason, she looked strangely familiar to him. She knows your name dummy, of course she’s familiar! a voice yelled at him in his head.

“Uh, yeah?” he cleared his throat, furrowing his brow.

The blonde girl lost her pout and nudged her friend, grinning. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“Oh my God, it’s me,” the brunette said, ignoring her friend, “Raquel. Raquel Saldana. Remember?”

For a moment his mind went blank.  Oh no, would she be upset if he couldn’t remember her? Then an intense memory of burnt cookies and birthday parties by the pool in his backyard crossed his mind. So what does this mean? He just walked into a brand new school and stumbled across the one girl he had known since he was born, and who had been his best friend until he turned 8 and was shipped off to the other side of the country? Could it be that simple?

Really?

If he had another second to think about it he’d definitely start looking for hidden cameras, but suddenly things felt like they were going way faster than what his mind was ready for.

“Oh God, it’s been forever,” he sputtered awkwardly.

Raquel started grinning too. “Something like ten years. You remember Kyle?”

“Hart. Kyle Hart,” Jude said automatically without really knowing what had happened.

Where did that came from though? As far as he was concerned, an hour before he was feeling like he was in a whole different country.  He wouldn’t have even been surprised if people were speaking a foreign language around here.

“My memory is definitely still working,” Kyle declared, very pleased with herself. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in a fancy school or something.”

Jude was a little taken aback. He had certainly not thought this situation would happen and he hadn’t planned on discussing the ‘fancy boarding school’ side of his life, but here he was. “I, uh, I just got transferred… um, here.”

The girls exchanged glances.

“No way,” Raquel exclaimed. “What happened?”

Jude waved. “There’s been a bit of a… well, a mess at my school, but that’s, like, a long story.”

Raquel turned to Kyle. “Talking about mess, wasn’t Blondie supposed to meet with Geyer this morning?”

Kyle groaned. “Yeah, but he left before I woke up. I love him but I swear I want to smash his head in at times.” Not even a second later she stood up on her tiptoes and glanced around in the crowd. “Have you seen Jelena? We were supposed to talk about music stuff for our routine.”

“She told me she went with the guys,” Raquel shrugged.

Jude shoved his hands in his pockets, balancing his weight on his heels as he tried to look like he wasn’t listening to things that were none of his business. It was hard when the only two people you knew were the ones doing the talking and you literally had nothing else to do in the meantime. He considered going to find his class on his own when suddenly the girls seemed to remember his presence.

“I gotta go,” Kyle said, more to Raquel than to him, but then she gave him a nice slap on the arm that he wasn’t exactly expecting from someone like her. “See you later, guys.”

Raquel nodded and Kyle disappeared among the other students.

“Sorry, we’ve had our own drama too, lately,” Raquel said as she started walking. “Anyway, it’s so great to have you back in town. Do you need a tour?”

Jude smiled, a little embarrassed. “I guess I just need to go find my teacher first, you know, to tell him who I am and stuff.”

He just hoped to limit the chances of his new teacher making him stand in front of the whole class and introduce himself. Not that he minded much talking in front of an audience, he didn’t at all in fact. He just didn’t want anybody to make a big deal. His only consolation in coming into a public school was to drown himself in the flow of students and so far he couldn’t say it had worked very well.

“Who’s your teacher?” Raquel asked, tugging at her choker, cocking her head.

“Gibbins,” Jude replied, and she immediately snorted, grabbing his arm.

“Then you’ve got plenty of time to tour around,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He doesn’t give a flying fuck about anyone. Last year we had this exchange student, Loy. Gibbins didn’t find out he wasn’t a native speaker until after Christmas,” Raquel explained as she dragged him in the opposite direction.

Jude scrunched his nose.

Great.

What were the odds that the good Mr. Gibbins would ask him every day who he was and what he was doing here?

The next ten minutes with Raquel flew by before he even noticed, but Jude found a way to figure out a few things. One of them was that he wasn’t in some prank show; apparently he had found his childhood friend five minutes after showing up. Also, he was positively screwed, as far as he was concerned. Raquel was one of the popular crowd here, and having her show him around was more like “showing him off”, which would have been flattering had he not planned to keep a low profile until his next transfer after Christmas.

He sucked it up however, because knowing where the Cafeteria was seemed important, and not something he’d come to regret by lunch time. Raquel was also taking her role very seriously when it came to giving him the fully detailed version of the school’s social hierarchy as they progressed through the crowded hallways.

“So, Kyle is on the Cheerleading squad, as is my best friend Jelena, who happens to be the squad Captain. Don’t ever think that they’re here just to cheer on the guys, because they’d scratch your eyes out. It’s a competitive squad and they take it pretty seriously. You’ve been warned,” she added with a knowing look.

Jude promised himself he’d do more than try, even though he knew nothing about cheerleading anyway. Being in an all-boy school, they were represented by their sister-school, and the students from Parkland were carted in to their events to sway their hips and sing a school anthem that wasn’t theirs… You could definitely find better in terms of girl power.

“Baseball team,” Raquel told him as they passed by an open door where a few guys were fussing loudly in the empty classroom before first period. “They are attractive and friendly for the most part, but they aren’t going to fix global warming anytime soon.”

Jude huffed a laugh. “We had the same with the water polo team. How many sports do you guys have over here?”

Raquel gave it a thought. “Baseball is a bit of a go-to for the freshman kids. They don’t do so great but it’s always nice to be a part of something, I guess. We used to have a male water polo team but the girls’ got all the medals and the coverage so they mixed both at one point and now there are only girls. I used to be in it but I quit last year,” she went on. “We’ve got a swim team,” she said after that, pointing to a dozen students heading down the stairs. “Weird people, strictly assholes. They only hang out together and you can tell that they don’t like you already.”

Jude forced a smile and nodded politely. It wasn’t new to him, swim teams generally had this reputation everywhere, except that back in Ellis Harwood, he was on the other side of it and things were just fine, assholes or not. He risked a somewhat longing look in their direction. He wasn’t supposed to apply for this club, or at least he hadn’t wanted to so far. What was even the point of getting into a brand new routine if he was going to disappear just before the launch of the season?

But God, in that moment, he missed his former school.

His childhood friend’s continued exposé managed to regain his attention as she kept speaking. “Footballers range from ‘trashiest asshole’ to ‘happy puppy’, there’s no real pattern and sometimes they can switch faces at any given moment,” Raquel commented, slightly scrunching her nose. “Of course, there’s the Cheerleading squad, and that leaves the Basketball team. We’ve got a soft spot for that one because three of our friends are playing. Jelena’s boyfriend is the team Captain. They are cool, you’ll see. Come on, I’ll take you to your class.”

*

It was shortly before lunchtime before Jude got sight of Raquel again, after she guided him to his first class, but in the meantime he had been introduced to her best friend. Jelena Howard was a small girl, literally tiny, with full lips, brown skin, and curly brown hair framing her face. She was undoubtedly good-looking, but in a much colder way than Kyle or Raquel -- which, strangely enough, didn’t particularly discourage Jude.

“I’ve been to boarding school,” Jelena had told him to his surprise between two classes, when he had tiredly explained once again that he had been out of town for the last decade or so. “But it was only for a year, before I moved to LA with my mom.”

“I’m a veteran then,” Jude had snorted, and when she smiled in response, he felt like it was something he should be proud of.

The rest of the morning had dragged on, and between unknown faces of the students and unknown faces of the teachers, his brain was having a hard time processing everything — honestly, he had stopped caring by the third period. The Spanish teacher, whom he had forgotten the name of, had him stand and present himself to the class (which didn’t exactly make Jude like him). But he was the only one to do so and he counted that as a small win.

“How did it go?” Raquel grinned at him in sympathy when they found themselves together in the Cafeteria.

“Fine, I guess,” he admitted, because all in all, it could have been a lot worse.

The facilities, the food, even people’s clothing overall were a thousand times cheaper than what he had been used to since he left Los Angeles for his first private school, but he could probably survive it for three months without much trouble if that meant not being called out as the outsider.

Raquel strode through the Cafeteria with her vibrantly yellow tray in hand.

One more thing he had to get used to. For three years he had been seeing life in shades of orange and green, the colors of Ellis Harwood, while Hollow Creek High’s were black and bright yellow.

Jude followed her to a table where Kyle was already sitting opposite another guy he hadn’t met yet. Raquel sat next to the guy and Jude took the spot next to the blonde. The guy had short black hair, and his skin was a warm, golden-brown that made his silver nose piercing stand out. His most distinctive feature was definitely his dark eyes, mostly because he was staring sternly at Jude, likely trying to figure him out.

“Roman, you remember Jude? We were in third grade together,” she said naturally as she gestured between them.

“I can’t remember shit like that, c’mon,” he huffed, shaking his head. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Jude snorted.

Raquel rolled her eyes. “Derek, Jude. Jude, Derek.”

Jude gave him one of the hundred polite nods he had been giving all morning, then he saw Jelena casually walking in from the corner of his eye, two boys on either side of her who could have easily passed as her bodyguards. They couldn’t be more different, except for their matching size. One had a dark complexion, the face of someone who was everybody’s friend, and shoulders that would have made a few NFL players feel self-conscious; Jude recognized him without any trouble from her phone background he had caught a glimpse of between periods.

The other one?

The other one had sandy blond hair, perfectly chiseled cheekbones and electric blue eyes glaring around like he was on the verge of murdering someone.

The pure, authentic, stereotypical Californian beauty. With an extra ‘I’ll-be-the-last-thing-you-see-before-you-die’ vibe.

Oh hell no, Jude thought categorically as he tried to ignore the horrible backflip his stomach made, unable to take his eyes away.

Not a fucking chance.

I’m not doing that again.

[nofearofwaves]

O’er Golden Halls

A lokaneweek fic

Prompts: First, Fake Dating, Marriage of Convenience, Family

FF.net link

Ao3 link

Arms flailing like jellyfish tentacles, Jane wiggled out of her cocktail dress and pulled on her pajamas. Her feet sang with aching pain, marks from her sandal straps etched in red lines across her ankles. When she collapsed on the bed, it heaved around her like a ship at sea. Maybe that was just her punch-drunk head.

The bachelorette party had been fun. Darcy didn't need to twist her arm to get Jane to admit that. Even though she would have preferred something quieter, like a board game extravaganza, she had to admit that Darcy's idea of sampling every brand of Norwegian vodka in the liquor store—along with some questionable mixers—had led to a lot of fun at the karaoke bar later.

She certainly would never forget the sight of Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, brandishing her pumps in one hand and a microphone in the other, crooning You're So Vain while Natasha streamed it directly to Tony's cellphone.

Good times.

Despite it all though, Jane knew she would be happy when the wedding was over. Of course she was excited to marry Loki, but the bustle and fuss around the affair had been exhausting. Never one to imagine her hypothetical wedding in any detail—who wanted to think about dresses or party favors when the stars beckoned?—Jane had found the sheer number of details waiting her personal approval to be a constant stream of mild to moderate irritants.

Eventually, she left most of the planning to Darcy, who not only knew her personality and interests, but had much more definite ideas of how a wedding should be than Jane did.

See above: bachelorette party.

But Loki had had some strong preferences too. He insisted upon the ceremony being held on Friday, and the venue had been his exclusive choice. Though surprised that he'd want a destination wedding, Jane couldn't fault it; there was a rugged magnificence to the cliffs overlooking the fjord, and a clear purity in the air that made her feel as though each breath was the first one she'd ever taken.

Also, being so far from civilization meant the stargazing was fantastic.

Not that she could take advantage of it now. Clouds had bloomed thick in the sky every day they'd been there, and Jane suspected she would be looking at the view through the plastic windows of an event tent. Rain was in the forecast, because of course it was.

Groaning, she shook her head. The weather, like her wedding, like her headache, was out of her control. Everything was doubled and fuzzy; Jane closed her eyes and wished for only one thing:

That she wouldn't have a hangover tomorrow.

She dreamed. Fantastic visions floated across the hazy dark field of her sleeping mind, gone before she could grasp them. Explosions of color exploded from the black—a nebula, maybe?—but she passed through in a blink.

Then she was standing in a field, tall with sweet-smelling grass. Loamy dirt was a soft carpet beneath her bare feet. Summer was heavy in the air, the atmosphere itself verdant and blooming. She tilted her head back and enjoyed a touch of hot sunlight and a breath of gentle wind on her face.

A hall rose before her, dazzling in the sunlight. Its vaulted beams were thick as cathedral pillars, carved in intricate patterns from single, colossal trees. Its doors could have welcomed a stampede of giants, who would have marveled to see the intricate whorls of wrought iron that decorated them. But the roof was the hall's crowning glory, thatched magnificently with beaten shields of soft, yielding gold. Each shield had its own crest; Jane could see animals, ciphers, writing, plants, even what looked like mathematical equations. No two were the same.

She shook her head. Something about this place struck a spark in her memory, but she couldn't think what that meant.

Her feet moved of their own volition, winding her down a footpath towards the hall.

The great doors opened as she approached, a bare sliver providing enough room for Jane to sneak through. As she did, a raucous chorus of joyous voices spilled out into the air. Moving into the smokey hall was like jumping into the middle of a carnival.

Long tables, so long they faded beyond Jane's sight, seated thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of...well, some were people, but others...

Jane knew half a dozen alien species; the number here exceeded that by a factor of ten. None of them took special note of her as she inched up an aisle between tables, darting a glance at a face here and there. She didn't know why she was being timid. This was just a dream. A hell of a dream, but just—

"Welcome, Jane Foster. Daughter of Michael and Helen Foster. Astrophysicist. Savior of my sons."

She gaped, shaking her head as though to clear the sight of Lady Frigga from her eyes. The vision didn't fade. "Your majesty," she gasped, dipping her head, "I—what—you're," too many questions. "Where are we?"

"Ah, yes," the queen smiled, good humor beaming from her face, "I forgot. Welcome to Valhalla."

"Val—" she ran out of breath. "Am I dead?"

"By no means," Frigga held out her hand and drew her down the hall. "No, I hope and believe you have many years of life left before you. You must forgive me; when I heard news of your engagement to my son, I knew I had to speak with you. Even in death, I am a sorcerer of no mean ability. I have brought your soul here; your body remains on Midgard."

"Oh," she managed, faintly. Suddenly Frigga's arm under hers was a necessary support. Again, questions crowded her, but she couldn't decide which one should have priority. So she let Frigga continue.

"I admit, I was very surprised to hear of your connection with Loki. I can remember no women who, once beloved of Thor, spared a thought for him."

"Oh," she swallowed. "Um. I realize how it must seem, your Majesty, but Thor and I broke up—ended our relationship—as good friends. Loki and I had more in common, and the more we worked together, the more we realized it," when Frigga only smiled in reply, Jane went on, "I really want you to know that I love Loki for who he is, not because he's a prince or anything like that. I didn't like Thor for that either, but I know how it looks and I don't want you to think that I'm some kind of—"

"You needn't defend yourself to me, Jane. Your loving Loki is enough of a recommendation to be, even had I not known and liked you before. I did not bring you here to dispute your marriage. I only wanted to talk of Loki a little. He is so hard to know."

Jane couldn't argue that.

They continued down the hall in silence, any possibility of conversation drowned by loud voices on either side. Understanding now that this was Valhalla, Jane knew that everyone there must have arrived by virtue of a glorious death in battle. Many seemed to be recounting these deaths, telling ever-taller tales of desperate last stands, innocents saved, or cataclysms averted. Not the way she'd like to spend eternity, but she couldn't help but be glad, wholly glad, that there was some recompense for bravery after death.

If knowledge of the Norse gods hadn't yet shaken Earth's foundations, this definitely would.

Frigga took her into a quiet alcove, hung with tapestries of Asgard and the surrounding stars. There was nothing else there but a cask of mead, golden goblets, a rough wooden table, and a few three-legged stools. Did anyone sleep in the afterlife?

Frigga poured them both a drink and motioned Jane to a seat.

"Tell me," her eyes sparkled with warm interest, "how did it happen?"

Her tongue loosened by the strong mead, Jane launched into a description of her and Loki's staggering courtship. In retrospect, the story was tangled as a skein of yarn, with as many knots and twists as smooth, unbroken string. Jane mostly talked about their firsts: first date, first kiss, first declaration of love. Each one had its own...colorful history.

More than once Frigga laughed aloud at her descriptions of their missteps on the road to happiness. More than once, her eyes shone with tears.

"Thank you for this, Jane," she said, as Jane finished, "Hearing this has made me very happy. I would apologize for some of my son's mistrust and misdeeds, but..." her lips drew together, troubled by painful memories. "I know Loki has changed—you never knew him when he was a child—but I suppose he was always this way. Growing up under the great shadow of Odin, and the lesser one of Thor, Loki found little sunlight for himself. I favored him, as he had talents I understood, but I was only his mother."

"I know that my childhood wasn't anything like his," Jane replied, choosing her words with care, "but I understand being ignored and humiliated by the world. In a way, our shared sense of injustice brought us together. Maybe that seems petty, but...discovering that sense in another person was cathartic, in a way."

"I understand. A lifetime of slights is no easy thing to overcome," she sighed, "I only wished I had seen those slights for what they were: poisoned arrows in his heart. If I had, I might have," she shook her head, "but such thoughts do no good, now."

"Loki knew that you loved him," Jane reached out a hand to where Frigga's knotted together. "He loved—loves—loved you too. I'm sorry," she eyed her empty goblet, "I don't know...you're still alive, aren't you? I don't really know what tense to use."

Frigga smiled. "Is not love always present, even if the object of it is gone?"

Jane swallowed. Dream, vision-quest, whatever, this was way too much wisdom to process when she was getting progressively more drunk. The only solution she saw was to have more mead, and pray Frigga didn't want an answer.

But the queen's head raised, distracted. "At last," she stood, "I was wondering when he would get to bed. He was always such a night owl."

"Who?"

"Your groom," she smiled. "I will go fetch him. Please," from thin air, she plucked a wooden tray of salt bread, smoked fish, and sliced cheese and laid it on the table, "help yourself."

Jane picked off a sliver of cheese and almost groaned aloud at its creamy texture and sharp flavor. Everything in Valhalla felt, if anything, more true to its own nature than things on Earth. How could that be possible in an afterlife? Shouldn't any afterlife, by definition, be less real than real life?

Her more elevated mind wanted a debate, with rational answers. Her monkey brain thought food good and stuck with that. By the time Frigga returned, she'd eaten half a loaf of bread, two smoked herrings, and a small wheel of cheese.

Loki looked as stunned as she had, finding himself face-to-face with Frigga. Jane smiled at the childlike vulnerability and openness in his face. Wrinkles were gone from his forehead, tension from his jaw. It was as though long years of bitterness had melted away, allowing room for hope—hope for love, for redemption, for family—to revive in his heart. His fingers were interlaced with Frigga's, and though he nodded to Jane, he sat next to his mother rather than her.

She didn't resent it. How could she? He looked so peaceful.

"Your bride has been telling me of your relationship," Frigga said, pouring Loki some mead. "I cannot tell you how pleased I am that the two of you found each other."

"Yes," for the first time, Loki really looked at Jane. The smile he gave her was heartbreaking in its artless simplicity. "I never thought it possible to love someone in this way."

Her throat seized up. Jane knew his difficulties with emotional honesty, but it shook her to her core to hear so openly sentiments she only rarely heard from him.

Frigga nodded, radiating joy and contentment like the goddess she was. "There are gifts I would like to give you. If I may?"

They both nodded.

"A tradition among our people, Jane, is to braid the hair of a bride. May I do that with you?"

"Of course," she nodded, hoping that her hair hadn't knotted too badly from any drunken tossing and turning. Frigga moved to her side and drew Jane's hair between clever, nimble fingers. As she wove, she talked with Loki. Gave advice. Shared sorrows. Lanced painful sores from the past.

Jane kept silent. She knew Frigga was speaking so personally to Loki in her presence for her benefit, but it was still a conversation that deserved a veil of privacy. She listened, heart aching, as Loki—almost in a trance—confessed his insecurities, his jealousies, his faults.

Frigga would not allow him to descend into self-recrimination. As only a mother could, she helped shift blame's burden where it belonged to be. Yet she also agreed when Loki touched on truth.

Nor was the conversation solely about fault or blame. Jane laughed aloud as they recalled old jokes, well-worn stories, family history that didn't rest on pain or secrets. In a half-hour, in a year, in however long they lingered in that dreamlike hall, Jane learned more about Loki—his past, his hopes, his ambitions—than she'd learned in their five years together.

At last, Frigga placed the last pin in her hair.

"Beautiful," she said, surveying Jane up and down.

"Yes," Loki agreed, wide-eyed.

Jane blushed. "Can I see it?"

"Best wait until tomorrow," Frigga said, adjusting a curl where it lay over her forehead. "It is not finished yet."

She stood, turning to the wall. From an alcove Jane hadn't noticed—maybe it hadn't even been there—she drew a crown woven of golden straw, jeweled with fragrant violet flowers.

"My own bridal crown was lost with Asgard," she said, "so I cannot give it to you. This one is a poor substitute, but I hope you will accept it."

Jane couldn't speak, her throat so tight it felt like a fist constricting it. Tears stung her eyes and burned her nose. She didn't answer. She stood and threw her arms around Frigga, hugging her as she had longed to hug her own mother, the night before her wedding. Silent sobs shook her; Frigga stood firm.

She whispered. "Be well, Jane Foster."

Jane woke, jerking upright in bed, sheets slithering to the floor. Loki snoozed beside her, expression lax and calm with sleep. The bedroom was so familiar and mundane that, for a wild moment, Jane really believed she'd dreamed it all. Then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror next to the bed.

A crown suited her well.

Lost in her reflection, she didn't hear Loki wake until he touched her wrist.

"Mother sent another gift," he said, nodding towards the window.

Puzzled, she followed his gaze.

Golden sunlight, heavy with pollen and summer heat, poured across the floor. It promised to be a beautiful day.

[superherotigerarchives]

Hey Luna!

 It's so great to hear from you! I've been alright, had a few health problems last week but I'm back on track and doing much better now. And yeah isn't Emfy awesome?! I should draw her sometime :D As for you sketch request, I thought you might like this Light in the Dark inspired picture instead! (Don't fear, I haven't given up on the story, I've just been super busy with work!)

And though I can't give you a date, I can give you a preview of the next chapter, The Star Gaze! Hope you enjoy, and may the force be with you, always!

The Star Gaze snippet below the cut:

...

Sabine's POV I turned to my side, the wooden frame of the bed creaking at my unrest. The room was shrouded in darkness, and the painted walls and colourful murals seemed dull in the dim glow of moonlight from outside the window. A cool breeze wafted across my skin, but I didn't feel the chill. I didn't feel anything, in fact. I was completely and utterly, empty. Shifting my gaze across the roof, my eyes fixed onto the painting directly above my head. It was a simple tribute to the family I'd grown to love, with Kanan, Hera, Zeb, and even Ezra held in a headlock by the the older boy. I had added the blue haired orphan to the mural not long after he'd joined the crew, specifically the day after he stood up to that bully in my defence. It was an act of loyalty, one he continued to show in the weeks that followed, treating me as an equal, and as a friend. And for that reason I thought it was only fitting to include him in the painting. In fact all of them had proven their friendship over the two years I had stayed with the family. When I first met Kanan, leading him on a wild chase through the streets after trying to steal some food, he hadn't treated me like a thief, but rather someone who was lost and in need of guidance. I had only been planning to linger in the city long enough to regain my energy after running away from my border school back in Mandalore, where my parents had dumped me and the Imperials reigned over the city from the shadows. So not knowing my way around the new town, I had accidentally trapped myself in a dead end alley, the officer blocking my only escape. But he didn't approach, even as I spat sharp insults at him. 'We don't have to fight,' I remember him saying. 'I can help you.' 'I don't need help by the likes of you,' my words had tumbled out, eyes narrowed into slits. His teal gaze was gentle and understanding, stating rationally 'The nights get cold here, in Lothal. Without proper shelter you'll freeze to death.' 'I'd rather die," I hissed, knowing fully if he arrested me and learnt my true identity, I'd be shipped back to Mandalore without a second thought. And I would never let that happen, not after everything I'd seen... But the officer didn't falter, quickly gazing over me before he observed 'You're Mandalorian.' I scowled at the man. 'I can tell by the way you hold yourself,' he said calmly. 'You're bold, and fierce, and strengthened with pride.' I remained silent, but continued to glare at him with sharpened vision. 'But even though you're stubborn, I also know mandalorians aren't stupid,' he added sharply, gesturing to the towering, grey alleys as he spoke 'So you can stay here, with no shelter and no source of warmth. The snow is unforgiving, and some people in this town can be colder than the temperature.' I paused, my muscles bunching up tensely. 'Or," he continued, his voice softening. "You can come with me. I'll take you back to the station, and see if there's any available foster parents that would take you in-' 'I'm not joining any foster family!' I hissed, switching back to an offensive at the mere suggestion. 'You don't have to stay with them,' he explained cooly. 'You can just stay the night, and once morning comes, you're free to be back on your way.' My body froze for a few seconds, before I arched my brow suspiciously. It all seemed a little too good to be true, and I wasn't about to be stabbed in the back once more. 'Why would you do that?' I growled. His teal gaze clouded for a moment, darkened with memories as he glanced up at the abandoned, looming structures above. He seemed lost, and somewhat saddened, before he finally returned his gaze to me, and spoke softly 'Because I remember sleeping in these streets when I was a kid. And I remember wishing someone, anyone had offered me a house, or a bed, or a blanket, just for one night.' My anger stilled, and I immediately felt the adrenaline seep from my veins. I could see from the haunted look in his eyes that he was telling the truth, and the comforting warmth in his tone that he did genuinely want to help. Allowing my shoulders to sag in exhaustion, I took a deep breath and thought over my options with extreme care. 'No questions?' I finally asked, levelling my gaze with his. 'None what so ever,' he replied, adding lightly 'Not even a name.' Thinking over it for a few moments, I finally made my decision. And with that, I'd reluctantly approached the officer, shaking his hand to confirm the deal. By the time we'd made it back to the station and he'd contacted suitable foster parents, I realised my trust in the man was far more than that of anyone else I'd encountered in the town. And when the foster parents arrived, and Kanan shook my hand goodbye, I found myself hesitating. And as if understanding my thoughts, he'd offered his home instead, where he and his partner fostered abused and orphaned children with open arms. I accepted his offer to stay the night. One night became two, and two became three. Days turned to weeks as I continued to prolong my leave anxiously, until by the end of the month, Kanan and Hera sat me down and proposed an idea. The idea to become their foster child. I took their offer willingly, and from there on my life became brighter than ever. They never pried or questioned, always allowing me to tell them things in my own time. They gave me so many opportunities and freedoms, and with each passing day my hardened exterior soften towards a more optimistic, carefree teenager. I'd grown to love art and music, and often found myself getting lost in the colours and sounds as a way to forget my former life. I was a new person now, so much more different to the girl who'd stumbled through the streets two years ago... But as I stared at another figure in the middle of the mural above, gazing down at me with bright hazel eyes and a cheerful smirk, I felt my muscles tense. I almost didn't recognise her, as the bright glow of her stare had disappeared in my own. The image reflected myself like a mirror and yet I seemed to be staring at a stranger. Or maybe, I was the stranger... Shifting uncomfortably under the eyes of my family -or at least, my old one-, I shrugged off the layers of blankets and sat up. The cool air hit me immediately, the hairs on my arm standing on end as I stretched and gracefully rose to my feet. Standing in the centre of my room, I couldn't help but feel my chest ache when my eyes scanned the walls of the space. End to end, it was painted and coloured with some form of artwork, engulfing the room with clashes and swirls of paint that wound together like the waves of an ocean. And the figures I once imprinted onto the walls to express my joy now only enlightened my sorrow within. I couldn't bare to look at it anymore. The place that had been my home, my life for the past two years lacked the sensation of safety it once possessed. My nerves began to buzz as I anxiously shifted to foot to foot. This wasn't right... I needed to leave. I needed a way to escape-! I jumped when a faint knock on my door vibrated through the stagnant air. For a long moment I just stared at the handle, oxygen trapped in my lungs as I tensed my legs to run. But forcing my mind to calm, I reminded myself that there was no reason to run from whoever was behind the door. It could only be someone from the crew, and hence there was no reason for alarm. Composing myself, I stepped forward and took hold of the door handle before cautiously creaking it open. I was surprised to see a pair of ocean blue eyes gazing back at me, widening the gap a bit more to get a clear view of the boy's face. "Ezra?" I murmured softly, tilting my head in confusion. He pressed a finger to his lips as a signal to be quiet and gestured towards my room. Understanding quickly, I stepped to the side and allowed him inside, gracefully sliding into the room as I shut the door behind him. Turning to face my guest I watched curiously as he approached my window, jiggling the hinges carefully and tapping on the lock. Crossing my arms I asked sharply "What are you doing?" "Seeing if your window is as secure as mine," he replied nonchalantly, running his fingers along the rim. I blinked in surprise, before approaching the distracted teen and hissing "Are you trying to run away?!" "No," he smirked, glancing over at me with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "We're running away." I froze. "We're what?!" "Only for the night of course. Corporal would kill me if I ever tried to run agai- Ah, bingo!" he grinned, cutting himself off as his fingers found a grove in the frame and pried it open with a sharp jolt. I was surprised to find it had made hardly any noise, the window sliding open with no resistance. Stunned and a little confused, I watch blankly as the boy climbed through the window and onto the tiled, sloping roof beyond. Gazing back at me, he gave me a puzzled look. "Well?" he asked. I scoffed, replying "Are you serious?" "Completely," he smiled, leaning against the frame as he added swiftly "Now get dressed into something plain and old, I'll be waiting on the ground for you." Stepping forward I muttered "We can't just leave!" "Why not?" He quizzed. I hesitated for a moment, before replying firmly "I have to go tomorrow, you know that." "So what's wrong with going out for the night?" He quipped, his eyes beaming with electricity as he spoke "We'll be back before they know it." My brows furrowed sceptically. "Aw, come on," he spoke, gazing towards the city that shone beyond the suburbs before asking "Surely you want to blow off some steam before tomorrow?" "What makes you think that?" I growled lightly. "Would you be awake at two in the morning otherwise?" He pointed out sharply. My eyes narrowing, I turned and shifted my gaze around the dull room. The shadows shifted along the walls, and the colours seemed flat and unappealing. I wouldn't be able to sleep... Not like this. I was far too wound up to rest, and old habits began creeping back as my anxiety took hold of my limbs. I knew I needed to go to bed. Tomorrow was a big day, and this was the last night I'd ever spend with the crew... And yet I found myself turning towards the boy, his blue orbs focused on me intently as he awaited my answer. Crossing my arms, I stated firmly "I'll be down in two minutes." His lip tilted into a lopsided smile, replying cockily "Knew you'd come to your senses eventually." I rolled my eyes at his retort, before asking sharply "So where exactly are we going?" He stepped away from the windowsill with great care and began to descend the roof. But just before he went to slide down a drainpipe, he shot me a playful smirk and replied "It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you now, would it?"

[sweetautumnwine]

Music Prompt: "A Little Wicked" -Valerie Broussard

A Little Wicked

Killua trailed his fingers along the craggy wall of his cave, collecting droplets in the grooves of his hand. Storms soaked the soil above, and he found the taste of earth-traveled water more refreshing than that which was dredged up from wells and rivers. Even when served in bejeweled chalices, it could not compare. He would plunge his hands into wooden buckets scavenged from carriage wrecks and drink deeply, spilling some down his chest. The cold would seep through his tunic, but the fire he nursed dried it faster than towels ever could.

He was a long way from the palace. In some ways, Killua had come to appreciate the rustic life, how he’d developed useful skills and learned to survive without tutors and manservants, but the stones he assembled near the mouth of his cave could never compare to the throne he’d lost.

Temptation had ruined him.

Settling onto his malformed chair, he gazed out into the rain, at the flashes of light as they shattered the sky. Absently, he conjured tendrils of dark blue from his fingers, made them dance above his palm, before closing his fist and dispelling them into motes. He’d been so close to receiving the title of heir to the throne, had polished the crown himself and heard his father’s blessing through the cracks in the walls. At night, he practiced his speech to recite at the feast which would follow the announcement, thanking his family, his advisors, and his nation.

But with promise comes fear. His older brother, Prince Illumi, had not been considered for the throne since Killua’s birth. There were rumors of illegitimacy that could not be properly dismissed, and the king determined it would be best to pass on the title to one whose birthright was clear. As much as Illumi feigned acceptance, his neutrality carried with it a bitter edge.

He came to Killua in the evenings, after training sessions, and weave doubts. You’re too weak to lead a nation, he’d say. Father will never trust his council to you. He’ll make you king in name only. You have to prove yourself worthy if you want to rule like him.

Killua scheduled more meetings with retired generals, sparring with soldiers each day until he broke bones and was resigned to bedrest. Not once did the king visit. It was as Illumi said; weakness would never be tolerated on the throne.

Days into his confinement, Killua awoke with a stack of tomes beside his bed and a note from his brother. If you can’t train your body, the note read, train your mind instead.

Magic was forbidden. The people saw it as a defiance of the natural order, and those who pursued its study were often imprisoned, banished, or executed, depending on the extent of their abilities and the severity of their crimes. But Killua, plagued by fear, unlatched the lock on the first book and read under the light of the moon anyway, poring over pages and committing knowledge to memory. As much as he paled in comparison to his older, more experienced brothers, Killua possessed an intellect that rivaled court physicians and scholars alike; unfortunately, it was not simple intelligence alone that made a great leader, and Killua was never recognized for his abilities.

The more he studied, the more powerful he grew. Soon, he was able to conjure a familiar, a spectral shapeless thing dubbed Alluka who demonstrated first the ability to heal wounds. When he emerged from his bedroom weeks sooner than what had been deemed necessary, suspicion arose, and though Killua sensed he was being watched, he assumed more guards had been posted in anticipation of his coronation announcement rather than to investigate him.

He grit his teeth and curled his fingers around a rock by his thigh, expelling dark sparks from his fingertips into the cracks until the stone crumbled under his palm. Three years had passed since he’d been betrayed and discovered, and though the king had been merciful enough to banish him rather than condemn him to death by stoning, Killua couldn’t help but cling to his rage. He’d honed his skills further while in isolation, had strengthened his relationship with Alluka and helped her grow stronger, too, and someday, he would storm the castle and seize the throne for himself, the rightful heir.

For now, he fostered patience, watched the rain just beyond his reach and felt the thunder in his soles. Storms would pass, and night would fall. And soon enough, his time to strike would come.

War was a waiting game, above all else.

At the base of the mountain, Gon planted both hands firmly on either hip and craned his neck back, squinting at the peak. Turning to his trembling guide, he smiled. “And the cave’s near the top?”

“Y-yes, but… You really shouldn’t go up there,” the young man said, fidgeting. “It’s dangerous. No one ever comes back the same as they were when they went up — if they come back at all.”

“Well it is a long trip,” Gon said, shrugging. “They’re bound to be a bit dirty.”

The guide shook his head. “You don’t understand. They come back different, changed. The prince…” He gulped, lowering his voice. “He knows magic, better than anyone in the history of this land.”

Gon’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Really? I really want to meet him then!”

Mouth agape in disbelief, the guide cast his eyes heavenward. “If you’re so keen to die young, go ahead. But if you manage to return and you aren’t exactly right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I would never lie about something like that,” Gon said. “You’ve been very helpful. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? It’s gonna be a great adventure, I can tell.”

With a feeble, dismissive wave of his hand, the guide turned back toward the distant town. “You couldn’t pay me enough to join you, kid,” he said, sounding weary. “Best I can do is wish you good luck and say a prayer in our chapel.”

Even though the man had already begun his journey home, Gon bowed his head in appreciation. “Thanks, mister! I’m sure I’ll see you again soon!”

Interlocking his fingers, Gon stretched his arms out in front of himself before bending forward to touch his toes. He loosened up his knees and elbows, and leaned back as far as his spine would allow. The sky above was clear, baring only a few sparse clouds in sight, but Gon’s nose caught wind of a storm in the distance, blowing in from the east; it wouldn’t hit for several hours, and Gon was confident enough in his climbing ability that he was sure the weather wouldn’t affect his goal. With a final, filling breath, he approached the mountainside and reached for a handhold.

For years, Gon had traveled alone, perpetually seeking his next adventure. He’d learned to forage and scavenge, and he was often more comfortable in the forest than in the city; there, among the trees and wildlife, he felt he could truly breathe. Though he lived for the excitement that came with treasure hunts and cryptid chases, he longed to one day locate his father, who followed a similar path long before Gon could even read the wanted posters in the tavern. Still, Gon was determined to strengthen his own skills in strength, stamina, and survival before officially pursuing his goal, and the more dangerous the mission, the better.

His calloused hands easily scoured the wall for ledges, and even the steepest slopes did not deter him. He never feared the height nor even the fall. It was the sight of clouds drawing closer, the sensation of air thinning as he ascended, that drove him higher, as if reaching the peak would grant him something spectacular.

Not halfway to his goal, Gon paused and sniffed at the air, furrowing his brow. The winds had brought the storm much sooner than expected, and if he wanted to beat the rain, he would have to move faster and risk injury or descend and try another day. Admitting defeat was hardly an option, however, so he rolled back his shoulders and hoisted himself higher, scraping his knees against the rough stone and ignoring the path of blood he left behind.

By the time he spotted the lip of the cave, the tingle of electricity in the air raised the hairs at the back of his neck, and he shivered at the sudden drop in air pressure. This storm would be a bad one. Before Gon could even begin to regret his decision, he sucked in a fresh breath and clambered up the rest of the way, tearing open his palms and launching himself over the ledge, rolling into shelter.

Chest heaving, Gon lay by the curved wall, eyes watched the dark expanse of sky now visible. From his angle, he could see nothing by the storm clouds — no trees, no distant mountains, nothing at all. He drew his knees closer to his chest, and with a sigh of relief, let himself shudder into slumber, if only to rest his aching limbs.

From the depths of his cavernous home, Killua sensed the approaching rain. Storms occurred so frequently, it was a wonder how the surrounding valleys had yet to be washed away entirely. Still they stood, resilient as ever. On optimistic days, Killua reasoned he could stand to learn something from them.

It was not an optimistic day.

He’d awoken near noon from a haunting nightmare, one that left him soaked in sweat and with a headache severe enough to rival war injuries. Alluka roused herself from slumber at the first sign of consciousness and brushed his temples to ease the pain, but the effects would linger throughout the day. Even as he studied, practiced conjuring spectral soldiers and communing with disparaged heroes of the past, he couldn’t shake the hollow halls he’d wandered in, how the torchlight painted everything gray, even the familiar tapestries. He’d committed the palace to memory, and such princely measures did nothing but cause him agony in his exile.

When the storm grew closer, Killua wiped his brow with cool water and draped a cloak around his shoulders for warmth. “We’ll watch the storm again today,” he said, motioning for Alluka to join him. “I want to study lightning more, learn to harness it. Imagine my father’s face when I come to the castle gates wielding bolts like a god. He’ll have no choice but to surrender.”

Though Alluka did not respond with words, she brushed against his shoulder as he walked, spreading warmth through the fabric to greet his skin.

As they neared the entrance, Killua slowed, detecting a disturbance. He held out a hand to encourage Alluka to halt. “Someone’s here,” he said, and before she could grow fretful, he bolted forward, summoning a web of magic between his hands to capture and subdue the intruder, while also concealing the sound of his footsteps with a shadowed shroud. Beyond simple strength and wit, Killua had trained extensively in stealth, and magic only enhanced his abilities.

He rounded a corner and emerged, full speed, into the largest hall of the cave, and at the sight of the boy slumped against the wall, he froze.

It was not like Killua to hesitate. But the boy’s eyes had flashed open upon Killua’s entrance, as though he’d sensed his presence in spite of the magical interference.

The boy sat up straighter, eyes wide and mouth hanging open to bear teeth and tongue. “It’s you; it’s really you,” he gushed, leaning forward. He placed both hands on the cave floor for support, wincing when the gravel dug into his wounds. He grinned anyway. “You’re amazing, Prince Killua, you know that?”

Killua dropped the web of magic, let it fade into the floor by his feet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to another person who hadn’t immediately demanded a fight, or who hadn’t declared the existence of a bounty in return for his head. Though Killua easily dispatched those who trespassed, this boy was different. He spoke kindly, with something close to reverence in his voice, and showed no inclination of waging battle.

“Who are you?” Killua asked.

The boy chuckled. “Just a traveler,” he said, and Killua recognized this as a severe understatement. “You can call me Gon.”

“Leave,” Killua said. He didn’t like how his senses had grown heightened, how his heartbeat felt thick. “Get out of here and never come back.”

Gon weakly looked out to the rain, at the spears of lightning, and his shoulders shook. “I’ll die if I go out now.”

“So?”

“So,” Gon said, with a surprising amount of vehemence, “I don’t want to die right now. I’ve got stuff I want to do. Can’t I stay until the storm passes?”

Blinking, Killua took a single step back. The boy’s charming adamance and foolish rebellion disarmed him. He swallowed, then turned sharply away. “Fine. Just until it passes. Then leave and never come back. I’ve got my own destiny.”

Relieved, Gon sprawled out on the damp cave floor, stretching his back and groaning one as he extended his legs. “Thanks,” he said, closing his eyes. “You’re a lot nicer than people say. I thought for sure you were gonna turn me into a toad or something.”

“I still could,” Killua said, eying the boy. “Don’t tempt me.”

Gon laughed, folded his arms so that his hands cushioned his head. “Fair enough. I won’t bother you anymore after this. Promise.”

As the boy’s breathing grew steady, Killua faced him fully, noting the dirty clothes, adventurer’s gear, and the raw wounds marring his skin. Drawing closer, Killua raised a hand to summon Alluka to his side. “Heal him,” he said, surprising himself. At her hesitation, he gave her a stern look. “If he dies in this cave, I’ll have to deal with a dead body, and I’m not in the mood to dig another grave. Just do it. Please.”

Alluka obeyed as Killua watched her work, saw the skin expel dirty and stone and replenish flesh as though no injury had ever been there. Her work was always impeccable, supernaturally perfect, and with a start Killua realized that this was the first time he’d extended her power to someone outside himself.

His lips twitched, a sharp breath huffing past his teeth. “Congratulations, Gon,” he said, sweeping his cloak over the boy’s body. “You might be special, or you might just be lucky. Rest well.”

Without sparing another glance back at the boy, Killua ventured deep into the caves, following a path known only to himself, and found himself wishing, if only faintly, for Gon to be still be there in the morning.

[ontarioyoga]

Why Kids Should Not Do Yoga

New Post has been published on https://www.ontarioyoga.net/why-kids-should-not-do-yoga/

Why Kids Should Not Do Yoga

Doctor And Yoga Teacher Kiki Morriss Tells Lisa Salmon That Children Benefit As Much As Adults From Calming Yoga Moves

Article bookmarked

Find your bookmarks in your Independent Premium section, under my profile

Many parents practise yoga both as a way to increase their strength and flexibility, and to give them a little peace and tranquility amid the chaos of family life. What they may not have thought of is getting the kids to join in too.But once children get the hang of this ancient practice, not only will it increase their strength and flexibility, but it can help relax them, build their self-confidence and even help them sleep, says yoga teacher Dr Kiki Morriss, author of Nurturing Your With Yoga.

And what’s more, says Morriss, who is also a medical doctor currently working with the Covid-19 vaccination programme, if the family does yoga together it can bring harmony to family life, as well as creating a bond through the shared interest.

“Family yoga will help you foster health and wellbeing for your whole family, bringing happiness and harmony to your home,” she promises.

“As a doctor and yoga teacher, I’m constantly inspired by the potential of yoga to prevent and treat health conditions, as well as to relieve symptoms. Through my work, I’m reminded on a daily basis that yoga is powerful medicine and I’m a strong advocate for making it available on prescription in the NHS.”

Here, Morriss explains why getting the whole family involved with yoga is a good idea, and outlines a few moves children can try to get started…

Why is yoga good for children?

Do children enjoy yoga?

They Could Become The Fourth R Of Public Education But Does The R Stand For Relaxation Or Religion

The number of U.S. children age 4 to 17 practicing yoga rose from 2.3% to 8.4% – or from 1.3 million to 4.9 million – between and , federal data show. The number of children meditating rose to 3.1 million during the same period.

The rise is due in part to more yoga and mindfulness programs being established in America’s schools. A 2015 study found three dozen different yoga organizations offering yoga programs in 940 K-12 schools.

Yoga and mindfulness could become the fourth “R” of public education. But up for debate is whether the “R” in this case stands for relaxation or religion.

MORE HEALTH: Appendix removal associated with higher risk of Parkinson’s disease

As a professor of religious studies, I have served as an expert witness in four public-school yoga and meditation legal challenges. I testified that school yoga and meditation programs fit legal criteria of religion.

In one case, the court agreed that yoga “may be religious in some contexts,” but ultimately concluded that the school district’s yoga classes were “devoid of any religious, mystical, or spiritual trappings.” In two other cases in which I testified, and meditation based charter schools were found to violate a prohibiting public schools from providing “any religious instruction.”

What Is The Right Age For Kids To Start Yoga And Meditation How Is Yoga Helpful For Kids

Kids can start practicing Yoga as soon as they start to understand instructions. Ideally kids of 4 years and above are capable to understand the instructions and follow the teacher.

However, we should be careful that certain practices should not be taught to the kids. For example- Padmasana. The bones are still tender and in some cases it may lead to bending of bones. These kind of asanas can be taught to kids when they turn 12 and above that is kids in their teen age. At this age bones are developed and are no more tender. The yoga teacher should know what is suitable for the kids.

Kids can practice surya namaskar and pranayama. Children derive enormous benefits from Yoga. Yoga helps to enhance their flexibility, strength, coordination and body awareness. Yoga increases concentration and memory power in kids. It makes them relaxed and calm.

Children feel excited when they get a chance to play role of animals, trees, flowers or warriors in Yoga. You should allow them to bark in dog, meow in cat pose and roar in tiger pose or hiss in cobra pose. They can also count 123s while holding the pose.

The instructions given should be fun instructions. When they are doing Bhujanga Asana, ask them to imagine that they are snakes without hands and legs. When they are in a tree pose ask them to imagine that they are a giant oak tree with roots growing from their feet.

The Benefits Of Yoga For Kids: How It Can Help Children Mentally And Physically Physical benefits of yogaFull body workoutFlexibility Yoga teaches body and self-awareness Increases immunityKeeps the heart, respiratory and digestive system fitImproves body posture Emotional benefits of yogaDevelops confidence and a sense of achievemenTeaches self-respect and empathyImproves emotional regulationIncreases attention span and concentration Positive thinking

How Getting The Kids To Do Yoga Could Bring Harmony To Your Whole Family

The Independent

Many parents practise yoga both as a way to increase their strength and flexibility, and to give them a little peace and tranquility amid the chaos of family life. What they may not have thought of is getting the kids to join in too.But once children get the hang of this ancient practice, not only will it increase their strength and flexibility, but it can help relax them, build their self-confidence and even help them sleep, says yoga teacher Dr Kiki Morriss, author of Nurturing Your With Yoga.

And what’s more, says Morriss, who is also a medical doctor currently working with the Covid-19 vaccination programme, if the family does yoga together it can bring harmony to family life, as well as creating a bond through the shared interest.

“Family yoga will help you foster health and wellbeing for your whole family, bringing happiness and harmony to your home,” she promises.

View this post on Instagram

“As a doctor and yoga teacher, I’m constantly inspired by the potential of yoga to prevent and treat health conditions, as well as to relieve symptoms. Through my work, I’m reminded on a daily basis that yoga is powerful medicine and I’m a strong advocate for making it available on prescription in the NHS.”

Here, Morriss explains why getting the whole family involved with yoga is a good idea, and outlines a few moves children can try to get started…

Why is yoga good for children?

“By introducing children to yoga, you’re giving them a gift for life.”

Useful Reasons Why Your Child Should Practice Doing Yoga Daily Pinkvilla Desk  | 

Many believe that yoga might be harmful to toddlers and children, but in fact, yoga is one of the forms of exercise that all kids and toddlers must practice. Practising yoga every day can be very beneficial for the holistic growth of the child. It develops the child’s mind, body and encourages focus and stretching of the body muscles as well. It not only focuses on physical health and growth but also fosters one to pay attention to their mental health. Yoga is indeed a great form of exercise for your child. So, Dr Shovna KC, Consultant Physiotherapist, Motherhood Hospitals, Hebbal, Bangalore talks about why and how yoga is beneficial for your kids.

Benefits of yoga for your child: –

Increases concentration

Many poses and meditation in yoga use the power of concentration and the process of practising the pose daily helps increase and improve focus.

Improves Flexibility

Yoga is a long process, no one aces it the first time. The effects of yoga show after regular practice. Yoga makes the child’s body more flexible and avoids stiffness in the body.

Helps in releasing stress

As mentioned earlier, yoga not only focuses on physical health but also concentrates on mental health. In these times it is not only adults that suffer from stress and anxiety. Practising yoga can help one release the stress and anxiety that one might be going through.

Increases activity

Feeling of accomplishment

Increases regulation

Improves body posture

Yoga Should Not Be Taught In Schools For Religious Reasons

In some States, Christian schools have boycotted the notion of teaching Yoga to school children. The belief is that Yoga promotes a non-Christian way of life. Besides, in many schools, any form of religious schooling or studies is no longer allowed. 

It stands to reason that if you are Christian or of another faith and believe that Yoga is a spiritual teaching, that you might not want your children being taught it in school. Many schools and parents argue that because Yoga is considered a religious concept, it has no place in a school classroom. 

When Should Kids Start Yoga The Answer Might Surprise You Arundhati BaitmangalkarYoga Opinions

It is common knowledge that yoga is great for adults. And millions around the world pursue this practice regularly. But is yoga only for adults? No! Yoga practice should ideally begin at an early age, so kids can grow into a well-rounded individual and not come to yoga to fix issues with their body and mind later in life. I often wonder why we wait so long to begin.

Yoga is a gift to humanity, and should be started early in life so the practitioner can reap the lifelong benefits of this ancient practice. There are some very important advantages to starting yoga when you are young. The magical age is 8.

It is common knowledge that adults combat stress in many forms every day. But today’s children are as stressed as adults. They have to keep up with the growing competition in schools and colleges, deal with peer pressure and the difficult stage of puberty, stay involved in extracurricular activities and meet their parents and teachers’ expectations. For a kid, this is a lot to handle.

We should all know about the benefits of yoga for children. The practice has a huge effect on the body and the systems that support it, like the nervous, respiratory and digestive systems. Yoga influences children’s emotions and behavior; it has a positive effect on the mental state and aids creativity.

Interested in more content like this? Get social with us:

It Will Ruin Your Relationship With Anything That Is Self

And yes, this includes even the fun, self-destructive things. You are going to connect in with yourself, and start to notice how all your habits are affecting you. This may just ruin all your desires to drink, smoke, swear, stay up late, eat fast food and drive really fast. If you love your life the way it is now, then don’t take up yoga.

Hopefully, you can sense the jest of this post! Of course there are yoginis who still drink, smoke, swear and eat less than optimal food—they just tend to be a lot more mindful about it.

In all truth, yoga can and most likely will change your life. However, you are still in the driver’s seat and can take it at a pace that works for you. Happy Bending!

Yoga Presents The Risk Of Exacerbating Existing Injuries

Unfortunately, while Yoga has a plethora of health benefits, it can also contribute to exacerbating existing injuries. 

The trouble with teaching Yoga in school is that kids might not realize that an old injury can return if they are not careful. Without careful instruction and modification of certain poses, Yoga can cause old injuries, aches and pains to “niggle”. Yoga is a full-body workout, and if children have pre-existing injuries, this may exclude them from practice or put them in a position where their injuries are exacerbated.

Can I Use A Book Or Yoga Dvd Instead Of Going To A Class

It’s better to start with a class to learn the poses and breathing techniques correctly. With a DVD, there will be nobody to correct your mistakes, which may lead to injury over time.

With some experience of being in a class, a DVD can then be helpful for keeping up practice.

Page last reviewed: 11 June 2018 Next review due: 11 June 2021

Valid Reasons Why Yoga Should Not Be Taught At School

Imagine this…Your child comes home from school only to announce that soon Yoga will be a class that they can take instead of a regular gym class. You know of the advantages of Yoga being taught in schools, but what are the disadvantages? How do you feel about your child being exposed to Yoga teachings? Do you even know enough to form an opinion either way?  

It is best to be in the know, and this is the very reason why so many parents and teachers seek out information on both the advantages and disadvantages of Yoga. In my time practicing Yoga, I have heard the debate come up time and again; is Yoga really appropriate in a school environment?  

Below are just 10 reasons why it is not a great idea to teach Yoga in schools.

Yoga Helps Kids Develop Their Visual Spatial Skills

Yoga works on strength, coordination, balance, motor skills, and so much more. It also increases core strength and helps children learn proper posture. As children learn how to guide themselves in and out of yoga poses, they are taught self-awareness and how to control their bodies by focusing on individual movements.

Does Yoga Count Towards My 150 Minutes Of Activity

Most forms of yoga are not strenuous enough to count towards your 150 minutes of moderate activity, as set out by government guidelines.

However, yoga does count as a strengthening exercise, and at least 2 sessions a week will help you meet the guidelines on muscle-strengthening activities.

Activities such as yoga and are also recommended for older adults at risk of falls, to help improve balance and co-ordination.

Try our yoga workout videos in our Fitness Studio.

Reasons Why Yoga Should Not Be Taught In Schools Activif Team

We are constantly hearing about the benefits of Yoga for children and adults alike. Many people have been suggesting that Yoga should be taught to children in school. However, some parents just do not feel the same – why? It can be quite a controversial subject that seems to have dredged up mixed opinions on both sides. 

What is the argument on the other end of the scale? Are there any valid reasons why Yoga should  be taught in schools?

10 reasons why Yoga should not be taught in schools:

Yoga can be seen as a spiritual belief system or religion,

In some States, teaching meditative arts in schools is banned,

Yoga does not encourage competitiveness,

Yoga is not high intensity and provides little cardio workout,

Children can become addicted or pre-occupied with Yoga,

Incorrect Yoga poses/practice can lead to injuries,

Yoga can exacerbate existing injuries,

Yoga does not inspire teamwork,

An intense Yoga session can lead to dehydration,

The risk of inexperienced Yoga instructors.

We often read about the advantages of Yoga. So much so that it is sometimes difficult to imagine that there are any disadvantages. 

While the advantages seem to outweigh the disadvantages, the reasons why Yoga should not be taught in schools cannot be overlooked. Let’s take a closer look at each of these reasons so that you can decide how you feel about Yoga being taught in schools for yourself.

Yoga Classes In Schools Is Banned In Some States

According to the Alabama State Board of Education’s Administrative Code, Yoga cannot be taught in schools. It is not just Yoga that cannot be taught in schools. The code also disallows the teaching of any other guided imagery or meditative practices to school children. 

According to the ban, it is not legal to teach children any form of dissociative mental states and techniques. Yoga was listed as an inappropriate form of physical education, and some states across the US follow suit. For this reason, Yoga might not be possible at your child’s school.  

Yoga Presents A Risk Of Becoming Addicted Or Pre

There is no denying that Yoga is a fun activity for children, and often they become quite addicted to the practice. Children starting out with the basics are typically engrossed in practicing until they can master certain poses or progress to more difficult or complex poses. 

Some teachers and parents may think that this could pose a risk to student’s concentration levels. Some might even fear that instead of doing homework or after-school sports, children will become fixated on practicing their Yoga poses instead. 

Yoga Supports Positive Mental Health In Children

Mental health issues among children are on the rise. What better way to prevent them or reduce them than by teaching children how to focus on acceptance, love, positivity, optimism, resilience, etc. When children are exposed to yoga they learn about self-acceptance, which makes them more apt to see the good in others and to accept everyone for who they are, and they are also less likely to succumb to depression, anxiety, and other mental issues that are on the rise today.

Things To Consider When You Teach Your Kids Yoga

Keep in mind that yoga is about more than the physical postures. It is about being mindful, learning about yourself, and connecting mind and body. If your kids don’t want a physical yoga practice today, that’s ok! Ask them to color mandala pages, read a mindful book, listen to mindful music or a guided imagery script, practice a breathing exercise, or just sit quietly to collect their thoughts and feelings. These things are yoga too! No matter how your kids learn yoga, remember that you are giving them the tools they need to effectively and appropriately manage their emotions, better understand themselves, and have happy, healthy lifestyles. Isn’t that what we want for our kids? 

Yoga Does Not Promote Team Work And Socializing

While most school sports and physical education classes are focused on improving fitness and building teamwork, Yoga is not. 

Yoga is a practice that can be done as a group, but it really focuses on the individual. Children in classes will not need to interact or work with other students during practices. In some schools and households, it is believed that teamwork should be promoted and that children should be encouraged to socialize while participating in sports. This can result in much debate about whether or not Yoga is ideal for the school environment. 

How You Can Benefit From Teaching Yoga For Kids

If you’re planning to teach yoga to kids, there are a few general things to know that will enhance your experience. The greatest challenge with children is to hold their attention long enough to teach them the benefits of yoga: stillness, balance, flexibility, focus, peace, grace, connection, health, and well-being. Luckily, most children love to talk, and they love to move—both of which can happen in yoga. Children will jump at the chance to assume the role of animals, trees, flowers, warriors. Your role is to step back and allow them to bark in the Dog Pose, hiss in the cobra, and meow in cat stretch. They can also recite the ABCs or 123s as they are holding poses. Sound is a great release for children and adds an auditory dimension to the physical experience of yoga.

Children need to discover the world on their own. Telling them to think harder, do it better, or be a certain way because it’s good for them is not the optimal way. Instead, provide a loving, responsive, creative environment for them to uncover their own truths. As they perform the various animal and nature asanas, engage their minds to deepen their awareness. When they’re snakes , ask them to imagine being a giant oak, with roots growing out of the bottoms of their feet. Could you stay in the same position for 100 years? If you were to be chopped down, would that be OK? Would it hurt?

What Stressors Do Kids Face During The Pandemic

Children are always on the move but for the better part of the past year, they had to stay at home because of the virus. That causes an enormous amount of stress and anxiety. Why? They had to distance themselves from their peers and their families—cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Without their extended families and friends, they struggle with the loneliness of being alone. They have to entertain themselves, play with whoever in the house has time for them, and deal with the monotony.

Being with people improves a child’s development. But for the past year, they were forced to practice distancing. That affects the development of their basic life skills such as cognitive control, communication, creative thinking, emotional reasoning, and interpersonal relations.

Even the presence of online classes doesn’t help. Virtual learning is not for everyone. It is not for a majority of learners. A few people can cope with the idea of not having face-to-face classes, but for the most part, children are better learners in the classroom than in their homes. The disruption of school is also a major reason why children are anxious and depressed. They could no longer ask direct questions to their teachers. They cannot spend time with their classmates.

Kids are at a critical juncture in their lives. During the pandemic, this means they are trying to figure out on their own how to deal with these situations. Parents must do their part in explaining the coronavirus pandemic to them.

Here Are 9 Important Benefits Of Yoga For Kids

1.3KSHARES

Why is yoga for kids important? Kids these days are busy. They go to school all day, have extracurriculars and homework in the evenings, family time and more extracurriculars on the weekends . . . Practicing yoga is important for kids for many of the same reasons it is important for adults. Yoga helps kids to relax, relieve stress and anxiety, sleep better, improve emotional regulation, increase empathy, and improve mood and affect. Practicing yoga with kids also teaches them how to be more mindful, which happens to be just one of the many ways in which we can teach mindfulness to kids. As adults, stress is something that we have learned about and adapted to – from peer pressure to taking the SATs, sending out college applications to getting our first real jobs. Stress is simply a regular part of our lives. For kids, however, stress is something they are only just learning about, and they often don’t know what it is or how to handle it. It’s up to us to provide them with effective and appropriate tools to help them manage their emotions. Aren’t sure about yoga for kids? Check out these Common Myths About Kids Yoga to help you learn more about what kids yoga really is! 

Yoga Improves Memory And Cognitive Functioning

Yoga helps to improve memory and cognitive function by creating focus within. Practicing yoga requires concentration of both the mind and the body. We have to pay attention to the movement of our bodies and how our breathing coordinates with those movements. Some yoga poses, particularly balancing poses, require that you concentrate more than other poses. When kids practice yoga, they are essentially practicing their ability to focus on the task at hand. In their day-to-day lives, this translates to better focus and cognitive functioning at school, leading to improved academic achievement. 

Reasons You Should Never Start A Yoga Practice

Ali WashingtonAuthor and Life Coach

You know, we yoga fanatics tout the benefits of yoga like it is going out of style. For most of us, it is because yoga has so profoundly changed our lives that we want to shout about it from the rooftops.

Some of us actually DO shout it from the rooftops.

But the truth is, yoga does have a dark side. There are some legitimate reasons why someone may want to consider avoiding starting or maintaining a practice. In order to save you from any pain or suffering, here is the list of reasons why you should skip practice.

Why More Kids Are Learning And Enjoying Yoga

As I stepped on the sharp edge of a Lego buried in our carpet, my temper snapped. “That’s it! I’ve asked you five times to brush your teeth and put away these toys. It’s way past bedtime!”

My 5-year-old son looked up at me over the elaborate helicopter he was building. “Mom, maybe you should take a belly breath.”

arrow-right

My scowl turned into a smile. I’d started teaching him a few yoga poses and breathing exercises at home, like how to dive into dolphin pose to get out the wiggles or explode with a “volcano breath” when his little sister made him mad.

And now here he was, teaching the teacher. I took his good advice and felt more levelheaded after a deep breath.

Although I’ve practiced and taught yoga for two decades, I’ve only recently realized its value for kids. And I’m not the only one: From toddlers to teens, yoga for children is more accessible than ever before. Defined as the union of mind and body, yoga includes everything from simple deep breaths to mellow seated stretches to complex strength-building poses.

According to an article published on the Harvard Health Blog, 3 percent of all children in the United States are practicing yoga — many of them in schools.

Physical benefits of yoga include improved flexibility, balance, strength and cardiovascular health. also shows mental and emotional benefits to youth from ages 5 to 18, including decreased anxiety, boosted concentration and memory, improved confidence and self-esteem, and better academic performance.

Yoga Provides Kids With Little Cardio Workout

Gym classes and extramural sport activities for children are typically aimed at providing some form of cardio workout. This is to keep the heart healthy as well as to help children maintain a healthy weight. Yoga does provide a full-body workout, but it is considered cardio. 

The focus of Yoga poses and stretches is to strengthen and tone all major muscle groups. While weight loss or maintenance is possible, it is not as effective as cardio. The argument is that schools should focus on introducing children to cardio workouts for gym classes.

When Is The Right Time To Start Yoga For Kids

So now that we know that yoga for kids is a great idea, when and how should we start teaching it to them?

It is important to have in consideration that the body of a very young child has different proportions than that of an adult and therefore some asanas might need to be modified or postponed for a later time. Also, children need to be able to understand and be willing to follow certain directions.

For most children, a good age to introduce them to yoga is around 7 years old. They are generally excited about doing things they see you do, and they are starting to be more interested in socializing which can help in a class setup as well.

The best way to start children at yoga is to do it through play.

There are game ideas online in which the child would take up the different positions and start to familiarize themselves with the asanas.  You can also use stories or choreography to music. After you understand the idea behind how the games and the stories work, you can even create your own together!

Yoga Increases Determination And Perseverance

Yoga is a fun activity for kids, in a non-competitive environment, in which they can learn new yoga poses and breathing techniques. When something is fun for kids, they always want to know more. Kids also love the feeling they get when they master the thing they think they cannot do. For example, Crow Pose. While it’s so much fun for kids to practice, it can be difficult. But when they learn how to practice the pose and continue to practice it, they are very excited and want to show everyone the new thing they learned at yoga class! This determination and perseverance leads to the feeling of excitement. When this happens, kids will do anything to keep that feeling. In their day-to-day lives, kids will learn that sticking with something, even when it is difficult, pays off and they will want to bring that feeling of excitement to other areas of their lives. 

When Should A Child Start Doing Yoga With You

Where other forms of exercise usually focus only on the physical aspect, yoga is something that not only offers umpteen physical benefits but is also great for the mental and spiritual aspects of the body. There is no rigid timeframe about when your child should begin practising yoga. Toddlerhood holds great significance in a child’s life as this is the transitioning phase from infancy to childhood and toddlers are becoming more aware of their bodies. This is the time when their inquisitiveness is increasing exponentially and they are also mastering various other skills too. Therefore, this can be the right time to teach something as valuable as yoga which has great physical and emotional benefits for your child. It is great to start something so beneficial early in life so that kids can keep reaping its benefits throughout their lives.

Yoga Improves Independence And Coping Skills

As mentioned above, yoga is both a social and individual activity. One of the benefits of practicing an activity that is both individual and social is that it helps kids to recognize what “individual” and “social” mean. Kids rarely do things on their own. After all, they are kids! It’s up to us adults to make most of the decisions for them. However, it is still important that they learn how to do things on their own. Practicing yoga is a great way to introduce independence to your kids because their practice, and what they get out of their practice, is theirs and only theirs. By increasing independence in practice, we are also helping kids to develop their coping skills. As kids, they will have the support of their family and the comfort of familiarity. But this changes as they grow into adolescence and adulthood – peer pressure, graduating high school, going to college, and getting their first “real” job. It is important that kids learn how to be independent and cope on their own while they have the support and guidance from those around them. Otherwise, they will be left with no coping tools under their belt when the time comes for them to be on their own. 

It Will Make You Have To Take Responsibility

The mat is generally a mirror for people, and this means you are going to notice all the places you are blaming other people for the things that are going on in your life – and you may discover that it is not really their fault at all.

You may even come to the conclusion that you have the power to stand up and make the changes in your life that will make you happier. If you really like blaming others, yoga may not be that great for you.

Because You’re Already Flexible /good At It

Yoga works when you’re doing postures that produce sensations, reminding you to breathe, focus your attention and calm the mind from mental chatter. If you’re not feeling anything, then your mind is free to wander, which it often does. Find the little things that turn the posture from one wherein you can hang out without working, to one that engages all your muscles and your mind. Rather than showing off the wonderful gifts you’ve been blessed with, enter the session with a beginner’s mindset.

So while we all know yoga is all sorts of awesome, you probably won’t be able to reap all its benefits if you’re practicing for the wrong reasons. Is there anything I missed that you think should be on this list? Let me know!

Trisha Sarmenta

Yoga For Kids: Why Teaching It Is Important

Everyone knows that it is essential for kids to be active! However, when thinking about activities for kids, yoga is often the last exercise that comes to mind. It may be surprising to learn, but there are plenty of yoga poses that will benefit kids. Yoga kids are happier and healthier.

There probably isn’t a person in the world who hasn’t heard about yoga! However, the fact that we’ve heard of it doesn’t necessarily mean we understand it. Although people in South Asia, specifically India, have been practicing it for thousands of years, it is a new fashion in Western countries, only a few decades old. Due to the increased stress we’re experiencing in recent years, many people began to search for something that can help them deal with it. And this is where yoga comes in as a discipline that promotes both physical and mental health.

However, even if its popularity is growing and plenty of people find it helpful, it is still an activity reserved for adults. Because of meditation, breathing techniques, and Om, many people believe that it would be difficult for their kids to practice it. It is essential to point out that there is plenty of yoga for kids’ benefits.

Reasons Why Yoga Is Not Good For Christians

Would you agree that there are spiritual forces we cannot see?

You may be surprised to learn that yoga, which many think is “just exercise,” is actually a spiritual practice. Christians may think twice before starting a yoga practice — please.

1. Yoga is Dedicated to a different lord . You can learn more about “The Lord of Yoga” HERE.

2. Yoga leads people away from Christ. Yoga means “to yoke”– and it’s a different yoke than the one Jesus refers to “For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” .

One alternative to this is CERTIFIED PRAISEMOVES INSTRUCTORS who are bringing Christian Fitness Ministry to their churches. What a blessing!

3. Yoga poses are “offerings to the 330 million Hindu gods” . Acts 15:29 says to “abstain from THINGS offered to idols.” Learn more about Yoga poses, breathing and hand gestures HERE.

INSTEAD, PraiseMoves Postures focus on the Word of God we meditate upon or speak aloud while doing stretching, strengthening postures. The Foundation of PraiseMoves is the Word of God. The exercise is the “witty invention” to get you more into the Word of God, and MORE OF THE WORD OF GOD INTO YOU!

4. Yoga has a spiritual nature that is psychic and metaphysical. This is one reason why experts, such as Professor Subhas Tiwari of the Hindu University of America says, “Yoga is Hinduism.”

Professor Tiwari also said, “Efforts to separate yoga from its spiritual center reveal ignorance of the goal of yoga.” .

5. Yoga is “the missionary arm of New Age spirituality.”

Yoga Is Helping Kids Cope With The Pandemic Faith Filled ParentingHealth & Wellness

The pandemic has been a strange and stressful time for families, most of all for children. As adults navigate the work-from-home situation, lockdowns, restrictions, and many other things that the pandemic brought in their lives, the kids are at home trying to figure out how to deal with the pandemic on their own. Don’t forget that like you, kids get stressed and depressed, too. Even now that schools are allowed to hold face-to-face classes, the reality is that their lives are not fully back to normal just yet.

Yoga is not only great for adults. It is good for kids, too. It helps calm their minds and relieves them of the stress of having to stay indoors most of the time. Yoga can be fun and entertaining, too. It doesn’t always have to be a serious activity where no one is allowed to speak and only the rubbing of the yoga mats against the floor can be heard. In kids, yoga can improve resilience, academic performance, memory, focus, and self-esteem. And during this period, yoga will reduce anxiety and the risk of childhood depression.

There Is A Lack Of Competitiveness In Yoga

Competitiveness is actually quite a controversial topic in the schooling world. Some parents believe in promoting competition in order to drive students to achieve more and to develop strategic teamwork skills. However, other parents oppose competitiveness and feel that children should be encouraged to participate, despite the outcome. 

For parents who place importance on competition, Yoga might not seem like a good idea. Yoga is a practice that can be done as a group, but individuals work at their own pace and without comparing their progress to others. It is all a personal experience and journey with Yoga, and children are not required to be remotely competitive with each other in order to participate. 

It Will Suck The Fun Out Of Judging People

Again, where pointing out the faults of others used to be kinda fun, now it just feels mean. You are most likely going to want to spend more of your time talking about all the amazing things the people in your life are doing – which may be a bummer for some of your friends out who still enjoy a gossip fest.

Incorrect Yoga Poses Can Lead To Injuries

The reality is that kids can get while practicing Yoga. Much like any sport, doing things incorrectly can lead to injury. Because Yoga involves unusual poses and stretches , doing them improperly can lead to muscle strains. Children can also lose balance and hurt themselves during Yoga practice. Some parents and teachers worry that children might become injured or hurt while practicing.

Yoga Improves Strength And Breath Control

Yoga takes some strength – both mentally and physically. When practiced regularly, we notice many physical and cognitive changes within ourselves, particularly increased flexibility, upper body strength, and mental clarity. All of this newfound strength has much to do with the breath. When we breathe harshly or quickly, we increase muscle tension, reduce focus, and heighten our fight-or-flight response, all of which have detrimental effects on our minds and bodies. Teaching proper breathing techniques, and building physical and mental strength from a young age, helps to reduce the chances of obesity, depression, and depressive symptoms, as well as increases self-esteem, self-confidence, and improves overall wellbeing. 

To Please Your Yogi Girlfriend/boyfriend

Your significant other loves yoga so much that they practically beg you to take a class with them so you can feel as great as they do. But like everything else, you have to believe in it yourself. If you remain close-minded towards all the benefits, then you won’t be able to truly absorb them. Open up to the possibility that yoga can do you good, and you’ll make the most of your 90 minutes. Don’t do it for your girlfriend , do it for yourself.

The Truth About Doing Yoga With Children

Inspired by “Kids Yoga Stories” yoga books and blog, I have started doing yoga with my children. I remembered doing it as a teenager and young adult, and it did wonders for my self-esteem. I thought yoga would be a great way to connect with my children and get into shape at the same time. I found many great apps on my iPad, and we got started. Except it didn’t work out the way I thought it would.

If anybody expected us to breathe and do the poses slowly and with grace and reverence… well, maybe that’s just not us. This is what doing yoga with two little children really looks like …

Imagine you’re on your hands and feet with your bottom in the air in the Downward-Facing Dog Pose. You’re getting uncomfortable and would like to get down on the ground again, except your toddler decides this is just the right moment to crawl under you and you can’t go back on the ground without crushing her. You’re trying to explain breathing techniques except the kids aren’t concentrating, because they’re too busy fighting over toys. You can’t get them to finish most of the yoga poses because they start doing jigsaw puzzles. You finally manage to get your children to do something, and then the baby starts to cry.

Sometimes, I wonder why I ever thought this would be a good idea. But then I remember: After all, they’re only kids!

I decide to let go of my expectations. And this is where we start having fun.

Instead, I focus on the fun stuff.

We’re finally having fun and connecting.

Yoga Teaches Kids To Take A Mental Break

Kids need just as many mental breaks in their day as adults too, but they hardly ever get them. Their little brains are constantly in overdrive – expectations at school, homework, after-school activities, television, video games and technology, etc. Sometimes they just need time to BE, and most often this needs to be taught to them. Yoga encourages silent meditation as the body moves through poses, which helps children learn how to appreciate the stillness of the body and the mind.

What Type Of Class Should I Look Out For

Classes can vary in duration but typically last between 45 and 90 minutes. A longer class will give you more time for learning breathing and relaxation techniques, and will give the teacher time to work with your individual ability.

It’s worth speaking to a teacher about their approach before you sign up for a class.

The Risk Of Inexperienced Yoga Teachers

There is a general fear that schools might incorporate Yoga in the school day and make use of existing gym teachers and sports coaches to teach Yoga. Yoga should only be taught by a certified and experienced instructor to ensure that injury risk is minimized and that the real essence of Yoga is fully understood. This might be difficult or even costly for schools to ensure that instructors are available for each grade and class with access to Yoga training. 

Making Kids Feel Bad About Feeling Sad

One section of the article, titled “Mind and body,” states: “When we feel sad, we can be more likely to get sick.” This is a pretty broad statement that certainly should not be made to children. Did anyone not think this one through? Such a statement will only scare children if they are sad, or make them feel guilty if they are sad or sick, or make them think that if they are sick, it is their fault. This is one example of how uncharitable Yoga-accompanying trendy New Age pseudo-psychology can be.

The remedy offered in the article for this is “If we can learn to release the tension in the body, the mind will relax, too.” This section is for children and they talk about releasing tension? Are we going to start conditioning children to worry about tension? Isn’t that just producing the very thing one is trying to avoid? Children have their own natural, God-given ways to release stress, usually through vigorous play, napping, daydreaming, listening to a story read by Mom or Dad, or some other childlike activity. They do not need an additional worry about releasing tension.

Because You Look Awesome In Yoga Pants

Doing yoga simply because you want to show off your body in a place where it’s socially acceptable to wear stretchy clothes is not a good enough reason to do yoga, and won’t keep you going when your practice gets challenging. Check your ego in at the door, or at least you will when you get on the mat.

More Than Just A Game: Yoga For School

ARCHIVED CONTENT: As a service to our readers, Harvard Health Publishing provides access to our library of archived content. Please note the date each article was posted or last reviewed. No content on this site, regardless of date, should ever be used as a substitute for direct medical advice from your doctor or other qualified clinician. 

Follow me at @marlynnweimd

Yoga is becoming increasingly popular among American children. A national survey found that 3% of U.S. children did yoga as of 2012 — that’s 400,000 more children than in 2007.

Yoga and mindfulness have been shown to improve both physical and mental health in school-age children . Yoga improves , strength, endurance, and aerobic capacity in children. Yoga and mindfulness offer psychological benefits for children as well. A growing body of research has already shown that yoga can improve focus, , self-esteem, academic performance, and classroom behavior and can even reduce anxiety and stress in children.

Jessica Mei Gershen, a certified yoga instructor who teaches yoga to children at Brooklyn Yoga Project and founder of Yoga For All Needs, recommends making yoga playful and fun for kids, whether in the classroom or at home. In her yoga classes, Gershen weaves in fun games and stories with positive themes like compassion, gratitude, and strength.

Simple And Fun Yoga Exercises For Kids

Here are some fun yoga exercises and games for kids. If you are a parent familiar with yoga, you can try these at home with your family.

More yoga for kids, as well as some other , can be found here.

Simple yoga breath exercise

Take a deep breath in and hold it for a count of three.

Breathe out forcefully, like you’re blowing out a candle.

Repeat this for five cycles of breath.

Flying bird breath

Stand tall, with arms at your sides and feet hip-width apart in standing Mountain Pose.

Imagine being a beautiful, strong bird.

Pretend to prepare to fly by inhaling and raising your arms until your palms touch overhead. Keep your arms straight.

Exhale slowly as you bring your arms back down to your sides, palms facing down.

Repeat in a steady motion with each breath: inhale as you raise your arms, and exhale as lower your arms.

Optional: Close your eyes as you repeat the movements with breath, and imagine yourself flying in the sky like a bird.

Reasons Why Yoga For Kids Is Important

Yoga is the fountain of youth. You’re only as young as your spine is flexible.~ Bob Harper

Yoga is becoming increasingly popular around the world. More people have an understanding of the benefits it brings to its practitioners, and given that there are so many variations there is a type of yoga for everyone, but what about kids? Is yoga for kids something we should even consider teaching—especially at a young age? Are there preferable ways to get children interested in this discipline? Is there any benefit of getting kids into Yoga? The answers to all of these are a huge yes!

Practice At Different Times Of The Day

Maybe you practice first thing in the morning because your kids are still in bed and it’s the only time you have to yourself. Don’t drag your kids out of bed so that they can squeeze in a morning yoga practice. Try practicing at different times of the day to see which times your kids respond to best. There is no right or wrong time to practice yoga, but there is likely a time of day in which your kids will be more willing to practice. That is the time when they will reap the most benefits of practicing! 

Because You Only Want To Become Bendy

Yes, yoga definitely helps increase flexibility, but it’s only one of the many benefits you’ll get from a regular practice. While yoga is a great way to open up tight hamstrings, shoulders, and hips, you’ll find that in all poses, there are also other elements being worked . There are no isolated benefits in your asana practice, and your goal in yoga will shift over time as you become more aware of your body and what it truly needs.

Yoga Allows Kids To Feel Accomplished

Yoga teaches kids to accept their bodies and how to improve flexibility, stamina, and strength. Yoga poses and flows are broken down step by step and not only are they fun, they are also challenging. In fact, the concept of failure is never introduced in yoga. This helps instil a sense of accomplishment that translates into other daily activities.

Do Not Worry About Mastering The Pose

The yoga activities for toddlers can not be about doing everything perfectly and the same goes for mastering the pose. We know you want your kiddo to master the correct pose but you cannot expect that to happen it in a span of few days only. Give it time and, soon, your kid may just practice the yoga poses perfectly. Also, being too rigid about perfecting the pose can be a complete put off for the young kids and they may no longer find it fun!

Yoga Teaches Kids Calming Techniques

Most children are never taught how to express themselves appropriately, and so they deal with frustration by crying or throwing tantrums. Children are never too young to learn the breathing techniques that are used in yoga to calm the body and the mind. With time they will inevitably learn how to apply those calming tools in their everyday lives and react to any situation in an appropriate manner.

What Yoga Poses Can Kids Start Doing

There are eight yoga poses that most kids can do easily. These are the child’s pose, the tree pose, the thunderbolt pose, the frog pose, the crocodile pose, the standing forward bend pose, the cobra pose, and the legs up the wall pose. All of these are designed to help their minds and bodies relax. These are not yoga poses to lose weight or tone muscles. These are all for relaxation and calmness—the two things kids need right now.

Don’t be afraid if your kids can’t easily remember or even do these poses. The yoga teacher will help calm their minds first so they can hold these poses for a long time. That’s why you need someone who does this professionally. Your limited knowledge about yoga may not be enough to guide your kids to master the poses.

What Are The Health Benefits Of Yoga

Dozens of scientific trials of varying quality have been published on yoga.

While there’s scope for more rigorous studies on its health benefits, most studies suggest yoga is a safe and effective way to increase physical activity, especially strength, flexibility and balance.

There’s some evidence that regular yoga practice is beneficial for people with high blood pressure, heart disease, aches and pains – including lower back pain – depression and stress.

Why Your Child Should Be Doing Yoga

Not only can it help kids relax, but pediatricians say the ancient practice may also be a helpful treatment for asthma, autism, and more.

Here’s a trick that usually calms my children anytime they have more energy than their little body can contain. I simply ask them to touch their toes. Filled with giggles, my kids, ages 4 and 6, spill over their legs, grasping their feet with ten wriggling fingers. “Think you can keep touching your toes to the count of ten?” I ask next. If I’m doing this at bedtime, it’s usually a matter of seconds before one of the two is yawning. That’s because — as I learned when I was training to become a yoga instructor — simply bending forward is calming.

Yoga has been around for thousands of years, but the focus on children continues to grow. In fact, to answer the increasing demand for instructors qualified to teach kids, the Yoga Alliance developed guidelines for teachers and schools so they can be credentialed in children’s yoga. Although there are currently more than 430 instructors who have registered under the new specialty, it’s safe to assume that the numbers are actually higher because registration is voluntary.

The 5 Important Benefits of Yoga for Kids

Amazing Benefits Of Yoga In Schools benefits of yoga in schools

1) Reduces Stress And Anxiety

2) Improves Memory And Attention Span

benefits of yoga in schools

3) Helps To Manage Weight

4) Improves Flexibility, Balance And Posture

benefits of yoga in schools

5) Teaches Correct Breathing Techniques

6) Promotes Mindfulness

benefits of yoga in schools

7) Encourages Self-Love And Self-Care

benefits of yoga in schools

8) Helps To Bring Peace Of Mind

9) Improves Self-Control

benefits of yoga in schools

10) Reduces Absences And Violence In School

11) Enhances Coping Skills

12) Boosts Immunity And Improves Physical Appearance

13) Improves The Quality Of Sleep

14) Increases Self-Confidence And Self-Esteem

benefits of yoga in schools

How Is Yoga Beneficial For Toddlers

The present generation, including toddlers, has developed an increased dependence on various kinds of electronics. This over-dependence on electronics takes a toll on the health of kids and involving young minds in activities such as yoga for little kids, helps them in channelling their energy in positive and ways. It also works well as an emotional regulation tool.

Undoubtedly, one of the best indoor activities for growing kids, yoga, has umpteen health and wellness benefits for young kids. Regular yoga practice is great for building flexibility and strength in toddlers. It is also beneficial for increasing better coordination, body balance, and awareness in young growing minds.

Yoga works as a great social activity, as it is a great way of teaching your little one about following instructions, developing confidence and trying new things by imitating others. Again, yoga is also a great physical activity in developing motor skills in young kids.

How Yoga Helps Your Family Connect

Sharing a yoga class with your child can also help deepen your connection with your children. You’re connecting movement with each breath you take, connecting with your inner self, and connecting with others — in this case, with your child.

There are two varieties of kid-friendly yoga poses you can try at home. The first promotes stillness and grounding. Here are a few examples:

Advertising Policy

Happy baby pose: Lie on your back. Bend your knees into your belly and exhale. As you inhale, grab the outsides of your feet. Open your knees and bring them up toward your armpits.

Mountain pose: Stand tall with feet parallel and relax your tailbone down for a neutral pelvis. Lift up through the spine. Tuck chin in slightly, and keep head balanced over your shoulders.

The other variety of poses promotes balance. Here are a couple of examples:

: Stand tall on one foot and turn the opposite knee out. Then place the sole of the opposite foot onto your ankle, calf or thigh. Put your palms together in front of your heart or face them with palms up.

: Stand in mountain pose. Step back with one foot, angle it out while bending your front knee. Then bring your arms straight up and look up.

Practice these poses through a game of mirroring. Children are curious and imitate what others do. Invite them to try a pose and don’t worry if it’s right or wrong, just as long as it’s safe.

Yoga Improves Social Relationships

Yoga is typically regarded as an individual activity. While that is partially true, there is a social component to yoga. We go to yoga classes with other people and take part in the yoga community where we can share our experiences with others. For kids, the entire yoga practice is a social one. Yoga for kids typically includes songs, games, and other fun activities that get kids moving together and learning from one another, particularly with partner yoga poses. This creates a positive, engaging environment in which kids can have fun, talk to one another, and learn to trust one another. Yoga also helps to cultivate increased self-esteem, self-confidence, and empathy within kids, which translates to more positive relationships with others by reflecting their positive attitude toward themselves onto others. 

Social Emotional Health Highlights

Activities such as these help children explore…

Self-Management and Self-Awareness: Practicing yoga and mindfulness with children supports them in identifying feelings and emotions while learning to manage their reactions and behaviors in healthy ways that work best for them. Stretching or practicing yoga, helps children to rec-center attention on the present moment and begin to build capacity and self-regulation within themselves.

Learn To Teach How Children Learn

Yoga with children offers many possibilities to exchange wisdom, share good times, and lay the foundation for a lifelong practice that will continue to deepen. All that’s needed is a little flexibility on the adult’s part because, as I quickly found out when I first started teaching the practice to preschoolers, yoga for children is quite different than yoga for adults.

Six years ago, I had my first experience teaching yoga to kids at a local Montessori school. I looked forward to the opportunity with confidence—after all, I’d been teaching yoga to adults for quite a while, had two young children of my own, and had taught creative writing for several years in various Los Angeles schools. But after two classes with a group of 3 to 6-year-olds, I had to seriously reevaluate my approach. I needed to learn to let go of my agenda and my expectations of what yoga is and is not.

When I began to honor the children’s innate intelligence and tune in to how they were instructing me to instruct them, we began to co-create our classes. We used the yoga asanas as a springboard for exploration of many other areas—animal adaptations and behavior, music and playing instruments, storytelling, drawing—and our time together became a truly interdisciplinary approach to learning. Together we wove stories with our bodies and minds in a flow that could only happen in child’s play.

3 Ways to Get Kids Stoked About Yoga

Partner Poses For Older Children

As you practice partner poses with an older child, you learn to support and balance each other, establishing trust at the same time. Watch this video for a routine you can do at home.

Yoga allows you to simply relax while spending time together and learning together. It cultivates this sense of open-minded acceptance between you and your child.

It Is A Non Competitive Activity

Many kids are attracted by the idea of engaging in some sort of sport but don’t want to be put in a position to compete against other children. That may not sit well with some kids, and they might give up altogether. Yoga, on the other hand, is not competitive at all. You practice yoga for yourself; you adjust all the postures to your abilities and you’re not affected by the performance of others in any way. That is why we should do yoga with kids.

Use Simple Yet Engaging Language

You cannot simply expect your kid to follow you as you practice poses rather you need to give instructions and guide your kiddo all through the session. Make your instructions fairly simple yet engaging so that your kiddo is engrossed in the activity. Modulating your voice is also a great tool for adding that fun element to the session. Use various sounds such as making out animal sounds while doing animal yoga poses.

Reasons Why Kids Should Do Yoga

We have all heard about or personally felt the benefits of yoga for our physical, mental, and spiritual health. The sense of calm and feeling of strength post-yoga practice is undeniable. Yoga is a great activity for kids to try, whether it be done alone, in a group, or with the entire family. Without a doubt, practising yoga on a regular basis will help your kids feel great and keep their bodies and minds in motion.

Yoga Can Be An Individual Sport

In a world where team sports are held up on high on a pedestal, many kids feel unaccomplished and excluded if they don’t belong to a team. The beauty of yoga is that it can be practised in a group, and even better, independently. Children learn that there is no one better or worse at yoga than anyone else, and that physical abilities differ from person to person.

Yoga Reduces Stress And Anxiety

Improving mood also means reducing stress and anxiety. Those same endorphins that increase mood and affect also reduce stress and anxiety. Did you know that we physically hold negative emotions in our bodies, usually in our necks and lower backs? Sometimes experiencing negative emotions is a good thing, but only in small doses. For kids, it is important that we teach them the balance between negative and positive emotions. When we are ready to let go of all of that negativity, practicing yoga helps to reduce stress and anxiety by relieving tension throughout the body, literally releasing the built-up negativity kids have stored within their bodies.