#i did Not cry necessarily but my sister cried the entire time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

panda-noosh · 4 years ago

Text

the normal one {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 14k

Summary: Your sister is the demigod. You’re just the unlucky one who got dragged into her mess.

Genre: angst??

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - omg happy first day of nano y’all.

---

You never knew your sister was a demigod.

Of course you didn't; it's not the kind of thought that crosses the mind of a logical individual, though it seems obvious now that you're being greeted with the proof.

Emma has never been particularly normal. She's three years older than you, and yet she carries herself like she's been through years upon years of unforgiven trauma, glaring at anyone who dares even speak to her. You used to just describe her as grumpy, not-a-morning-person, just leave her alone and you'll be fine.

Now, you're beginning to think it might not be as simple as all that.

Your day starts off pretty normal; you wake up, greeted by the sunlight streaming through the curtains you once again forgot to close over the previous night. You look down, not surprised to see you're still dressed in a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose white shirt instead of the pyjamas your sister has been trying so desperately to make you wear at night. You got ready, brushing the knots from your hair before marching downstairs.

Your mum is in the kitchen, whistling to herself, frail hands forever trembling around the pot of boiling oatmeal; you and your mum don't really talk that much. She favours Emma over you, and she's never found much point in wasting breath on the child she doesn't necessarily like. She'll smile, feed you, let you have a roof over your head, but neither of you pretend like your relationship with each other is permanent. One day you're going to move out, and your mum is never going to contact you, never going to step foot in your house, never going to give you a house-warming gift.

You're fine with that.

Emma is sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. It's not even that weird of a sight, considering you've always known Emma to be into the dramatics. You sit across from her, folding your arms over the table before whispering, rather loudly, "Rough night?"

Her head jerks up, revealing her wild, bloodshot eyes. "What?"

You laugh, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the centre of the table. "You look like shit, Em. Where have you been all night?"

Her jaw twitches, and she doesn't respond, which is a pretty normal reply for her, especially at this time of day.

"Whatever," you mumble. "Can I borrow that fancy deodorant you bought back from that summer camp you go to?" Emma nods. You grin, banishing the conversation all together as you stand and skip upstairs.

So, yeah. The day was starting off pretty normal. Not a single worry in sight. You would go to school, mope around classes for a few hours, come home and stress eat over a pile of unfinished homework that was probably due multiple days ago.

Instead, you have to deal with the boulders being thrown through Emma's bedroom window.

The first one hits just as your grabbing Emma's fancy deodorant from her bottom drawer. There is no warning, no low whoosh sound that would give you a chance to step away and make a run for it - no. Instead, it goes straight to the shattered glass and bloodied arms. Instead, it goes straight to the boulder smashing against your hand, crushing your fingers against the wall.

You are stuck, legs crumbling beneath you. You should be slipping to the floor right now, probably unconscious, maybe dead, but your hand, trapped between the biggest rock known to man and the wall, keeps you upright. Blood leaks from gashes forming on your fingers, dribbling down your wrist, your arm, dripping onto your knees. You stare at the scene in shock for a moment, unable to register what on earth has actually just happened.

And then Emma is screaming your name, thundering up the stairs, and you're crying out, trying to form words but they get lodged in your throat, replaced by the overwhelming pain and realisation that you're going to die, you're going to fucking die on your sisters bedroom floor because there is so much blood, and there is no way in hell you won't be drained before the end of this day, probably within the next ten minutes, probably within-

The door opens. Emma barrels inside, wielding a golden sword that honestly just makes you think of course she has a golden sword.

"You son of a bitch!" she cries out, darting to her bedroom window. She stands upon the sill and waves her arms at the sky. "You got the wrong L/N, you idiot! Get back here and finish me off if you're so tough!"

"Emma," you croak, tears flooding down your cheeks. "Little help here."

"It's the giants." She leaps off the window sill and swivels round, darting to your side. Something has changed in her, something you've never seen before; she seems stronger, her eyes a little brighter yet still eerily dark at the same time.

She crouches beside you and begins manoeuvring your trapped hand back and forth. You hiss, throwing your head back as blood spurts down your arm, staining your shirt. Emma grits her teeth, keeping her eyes peeled on her work. "They've found me," she continues muttering. "We need to get out of here - all of us. You, me, Mum. They know where the house is. How did they find out where the bloody house is?"

"Can you shut the fuck up talking crazy for one second?"

Emma pays you no mind, taking a tiny knife from her back pocket and wriggling it between the wall and the boulder. "I'll have to get in touch with Chiron, tell him I'm bringing a few mortals with me to camp this summer."

You grunt. "I'm not going to some hippy-Christian summer camp with you."

"It's not a hippy-Christian summer camp." Emma swats your head, forcing you to look away from the blood dribbling down your arm. "It's a place that will keep you safe, alright? So don't argue."

"Don't tell me what to - AH!" The boulder falls, crashing to the floor. Tables rattle, things tumble off shelves, and your hand is freed. You pull it to your chest, but Emma doesn't let it go unaided for long - she grabs your wrist and tugs it back, examining the damage; your nerves have clearly been ripped, fingers cold from lack of feeling. Gashes have been made into the back of your hand, fingers torn to shreds.

She shakes her head. "I'll get Will to have a look at this."

"No, you idiot, you'll call 999 before-"

"We have to go now. That giant will be back soon enough, especially once he realises I'm taking you guys with me." Emma doesn't even give you a chance to respond before she's grabbing your good hand and dragging you from her bedroom. You hiss in pain, stumbling behind her, but there's really no point in arguing. When Emma has her mind set on something, she goes for it no matter what objections people put in place. Mum always said she gets that from her dad, but you've never met the man, so you wouldn't know.

Speaking of your dear old mother, the woman doesn't even give you a second glance when Emma drags you into the living room and shoves you onto the sofa next to her; she's frozen in fear, fingers pulled to her lips as she bites on the nails, a habit she's had for as long as you can remember.

She shakes her head, dazed. "He's coming back to me. He's sending signs."

Emma groans. Looking over, you see her with a phone pressed to her ear, big and bulky with an oversized antennae peeking from the top of it. "Mum, that wasn't Dad sending signs. That was a giant trying to kill me."

You blink, certain your blood loss is contributing to this wild conversation somehow. "A giant? Your dad?"

Emma raises a finger, telling you to be quiet. Mum whimpers at the movement and goes back to chewing her nails, gazing steadily out the window. She looks terrified, but her knee is bouncing in that way it always does when she's excited. You've given up trying to understand her. In fact, you've given up trying to understand your entire family.

So you just sit there, trying to fight off the black spots dotting your vision and the blood dribbling through your fingers; you don't know why Emma hasn't called 999 yet, considering you're basically on the verge of unconsciousness, but your throat is too dry to ask. Instead you listen as she says, "Leo! Where are you? Are you close?" and then she sighs in relief, and within three minutes, there's a knock on the door and she's barrelling out of the living room to grab it.

You look up, dazed, when she returns with a small curly haired boy in tow. He's a bit scruffy, you have to admit, but in a cute way, like a bunny with a bit of dirt on its nose.

"Not really the time for guests, is it, Em?" you grumble, before falling face first into the floor.

---

You wake up, and immediately wish you hadn't.

Emma always messes things up - always.

Her life has to be so damn dramatic all the damn time, and you're getting pretty damn sick of being dragged into it. All you want to do is sit in bed with a nice blanket and a cup of tea, maybe practice a bit of witchcraft, maybe sink into the dirt and become one with nature.

You don't want to be hunted down by rabid, murderous giants, that's for sure.

You also don't want to be trapped in a hospital bed at some hippy-Christian camp you don't even know the name of. But that's exactly what has happened.

When you open your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of white, cloth walls and multiple eager faces gazing down at you. Most of them have blonde hair and the brightest eyes you have ever seen, and then there's that curly haired boy, and Emma herself, and there's a guy who is half horse-

"Oh god, this is death. I've died."

"She's awake!" the curly haired boy - Leo, you remember - cries, throwing his hands in the air. "Good job, Apollo kids! Another point for you!"

"Shut up, Leo." One of the many blonde haired kids steps forward and places the back of his hand against your forehead; in any other situation, you might have pulled away and told him to step back, but the feel of his skin against your own is surprisingly soothing. It's almost against your will when you melt into it, eyes gliding shut. Your hit with images of you and Emma as children, running through fields, her punching that guy in the nose because he called you short that one time, and-

He snatches his hand back, startling you back to reality. "The fevers definitely going down," he says, turning to Emma.

"Uh, excuse me," you chirp, raising a timid hand. "She's not my legal guardian, I'll have you know." You glance at Emma. "Where is my legal guardian, by the way?"

Emma rolls her eyes, and that's answer enough.

"Ah. Frollicking in the leaves again?"

Emma hums. "I left her to it; we have bigger things to worry about than her love life."

"That's a bit morbid, Emma," says Leo. "Love is a magnificent thing."

"So is me not dying," you say, before turning back to the blonde haired boy. "Can I leave?"

The boy blinks, staring at you like you have two heads. It almost makes you uncomfortable, but his eyes are so pretty, and the way his palm felt against your forehead-

Leo shoves to the front. "Will here is gay, Y/N. Stop staring."

You look away, flustered. "I wasn't even staring."

"Yeah, you were. I see that look of lust on people all the time - I get it a lot, to tell you the truth."

You look at his curls, the oil on his tattered overalls, the dirt smothering both his cheeks, nose and hands.

"I'm sure you do, big guy. I'm sure you do."

Will sighs, shoving Leo out the way again. "I'm gonna do a final check up before I let you leave; I can't give mortals any nectar or ambrosia, so the healing process might take-"

Awkwardly, Emma coughs. The entire tent goes silent, turning to her with raised brows and narrowed eyes, but all you can focus on is Will's strange choice of vocabulary. Nectar. Ambrosia. Those don't sound like common prescription pain meds.

"Emma..." Will drawls. "What have you-"

"I'll talk to them," Emma mumbles. "Can you guys just give us a minute?"

You grab Will's hand. "Please don't leave me alone with her."

Will gives you a timid smile, squeezing your hand gently before he, Leo and all the other blonde haired strangers exit the tent, leaving just you and Emma to your own devices.

And honestly, Emma's your best friend. She means the world to you. She's the one person in that god forsaken house that actually pays you any attention, and it doesn't even matter that she's the favourite, that Mum basically licks the ground she walks on for a reason you have yet to pinpoint. You love Emma with all your heart, but right now, you would rather be anywhere but in her presence.

You pull the quilt up to your chin and say, "I'm very confused."

Emma pulls a stool over and takes a seat. "I know. I should have explained. I need to explain."

"Yes, you do."

She hollows out her cheeks, which only makes your fear spike - you've never seen Emma act like this. She's usually so brave, bold, confident. She doesn't do a single thing without planning it out perfectly beforehand, and yet here she is, looking completely stumped. You almost feel bad for her until you remember the way she completely ignored your pleas for her to call 999 when you were fairly certain you were bleeding out.

"Well?" you push. "Go on, Em. I'm listening."

Emma sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face. "Do you have any idea where we are right now?"

"Absolutely none. There was a guy with a horse body-"

"That's Chiron. He's a centaur."

You blink. "Okay."

"This place is called Camp Half-Blood; it's where I go to every summer."

"Well, I assumed."

"It's a camp for Half-Bloods. Demigods. People who are half-god, like. . . like me. Like Leo, and Will, and probably loads of other kids, too."

It's starting to get jumbled now, a string of words that don't form to make a coherent, sensible sentence.

You don't even respond, simply staring at Emma until she is forced to continue.

"It sounds insane, I know, but I'm not lying. I'm a demigod, Y/N, daughter of Ares."

It goes silent, because of course it does. What are you even meant to say to that? The logical part of you says to just call her out on her lies, ask her where the hell you actually are and where Mum is and why she brought you here in the first place. But the other half recognises that Emma being the daughter of a war god kind of makes perfect sense.

In your conflicted state of disbelief, you say neither of those things. Instead, you look at Emma and say, "Mum hooked up with a god?"

Emma breathes a laugh, closing her eyes. "Yes, little one, she did."

"And she couldn't have done the same thing when she was conceiving me?"

Emma winces. "I don't want to talk about Mum conceiving either of us, thank you very much."

You shake your head. "So that's why she's always hated me."

"Mum doesn't hate you-"

"I'm the repair kid. I'm the one who-"

Leo pops his head in the door. "Did someone say repair kid?"

Emma looks up, giving Leo a tired little wave. "You can come back in now. Y/N's all caught up."

"Oh, happy days!" Leo marches in and reaches for your good hand, giving it a vigorous shake. "Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus. Nice to properly meet you."

"Y/N L/N, child of - uh - that guy from McDonalds.

Emma stands up quickly, grabbing Leo's shoulders as his eyes narrow. "Alright! Now that we've got the niceties out of the way, I think it's time we let Will back in here so he can do his final check up. Sound good?"

"Sounds fantastic," you mumble, sinking down into the pillows. "Bring the nice looking blonde boy to me now, please."

----

Camp Half-Blood kind of looks like a dream scape. But a really bad one.

A nightmare-scape.

There's sword fighting, and teeny tiny girls in green dresses that get wildly offended when you call them Tinkerbell. There's people riding around on winged horses like it's no big deal, and you're almost certain it was raining when you left the house earlier, so why is it sunny and warm right now?

Leo is the one who greets you when you're finally allowed to step out of the tent - the infirmary, apparently, run by the kids of Apollo. All of them were really nice. They all had really nice hands.

"You're looking fresh," Leo says, tucking his hands in his pockets as the two of you stroll across camp together. "Will and his siblings really know what they're doing, huh? I had my doubts, with you being a mortal and all. I don't know how often they work on people like you."

You shrug. "It was just a bit of nerve damage in my hand."

"You passed out."

"I blanked. It happens to the best of us."

Leo's lips twitch. It shows you just the briefest hint of dimples, and you hate that it immediately turns your tough-guy demeanour to mush. It seems like you have a soft spot for demigods. You look away quickly, tucking your hands - bandage and all - into your pockets. It's this movement that seems to tilt Leo's attention to the clothes you're wearing, all of which are smothered in your own blood.

Pleasant.

He grimaces, stopping dead in his tracks. You would continue walking, being an independent mortal and all that, but you don't know your way around this place, and you'd rather not accidentally walk into a fighting arena. So, you stop and look back at him. "What's wrong?"

"You need a change of clothes, my friend."

You blink. "No, I don't think-"

"They might be a bit big on you, but I have the perfect pair of overalls you could borrow. Come on. To Bunker 9 we go."

He starts walking away before you even have a chance to protest. It really puts the fear of god - gods? - in you, because at that very moment, a winged horse slams into the floor at your side. You squeal, immediately sprinting after him, and the bastard doesn't even turn back to look at what has just startled you. He merely grins, cocky and annoying, and says, "Yeah, stick with me and that won't happen."

You grunt, knowing he's right.

The two of you arrive at Bunker 9 in no time. It's like an old bomb shelter, with tin walls and a door that looks like it's about to fall off it's hinges. You make a joke about why Leo can't just fix the hinges, considering he's a machine expert and all that, and Leo rolls his eyes and says, "I'm busy enough as it is."

The room lights up without a switch needing to be flipped, which you think is pretty cool.

"My school used to have lights like that," you point out, gazing up at the ceiling. "They were motion censored."

"Mm. They're handy little things until you haven't moved in fifteen minutes and they switch off whilst you're still standing there. The amount of times I've nearly put a screw through my finger." He shakes his head, tossing aside discarded tools in his search for the overalls he promised you. "Mental."

You pluck at a random copper wire hanging out of a drawer. "So, is this like. . . your dorm room?"

"Hm?" Leo looks at you. "Oh, no. I don't sleep in here - I sleep in the Hephaestus cabin. I'm the head counsellor, so I have to keep an eye on things, you know."

You raise a brow. "Is your bed more comfy in the Hephaestus cabin?"

"That, too." He blushes, lowering his eyes back to his search. "But honestly, my job is pretty important. I've got to keep that place running, keep all my siblings in check."

"I'm not being funny, if Emma tried telling me what to do, I would tell her to piss off."

Leo scoffs. "Yeah, I got that vibe off you."

"So how do you do it?"

Leo pauses, glancing over his shoulder."How do I do what?"

You push yourself up onto the counter, ignoring the saw dust that now litters your hands and the back of your already ruined jeans. "How do you get them to listen to you? You don't look to be much older than I am - surely you have older siblings in that cabin of yours. It can't be easy getting them to fall into line, too."

Slowly, Leo turns. He leans against the chest of drawers he has been digging through, regarding you with a single raised brow. His gaze is hard, but you keep the eye contact, smiling just the tiniest bit.

He doesn't respond with words. Instead, he stretches his hand out, palm towards the ceiling, and uncurls his fingers, revealing a bright orange flame dancing in the centre. It doesn't make you jump as it probably should have; instead, you are mesmerised, caught in the slick movements of the tiny ball of fire.

You slowly reach out. Leo slams his hand closed and pulls back. "You can't touch it."

"I wasn't going to."

"You were fully going to touch it."

You scowl, folding your arms over your chest. "What was the point in showing me that?"

He turns on his heel, going back to digging through the chest of drawers. "That's why I'm head counsellor - no other child of Hephaestus can do that." He glances at you. "You don't think it's weird?"

"Well, yeah - very weird." You shrug. "But who am I to judge? I can do this thing where I dislocate my shoulder, and that's pretty weird, too."

Leo blinks, mouth opening like you've caught him off guard. He swipes his tongue along his lower lip before he turns away and mumbles, "Yeah. That is pretty weird."

Bunker 9 is doused in silence after that. Leo rummages through his drawers as you inspect every nook and cranny of the place, running your fingers along the tin walls, picking up tools you have never seen before; you can feel Leo watching you from the corner of his eye, probably making sure you're not stealing anything. Honestly, the golden screwdriver set is pretty tempting, but you wouldn't want to risk getting on a demigod's bad side.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Leo pops his head up, grinning broadly with a set of overalls in his hands. "Found them!" He tosses them at you with no warning; you just barely manage to catch them. "They got shrunk in the wash, so I was gonna rip them up for hand towels in here, but I'm sure they'll be more useful for you."

You pull them into your chest. "They smell like oil."

Leo spreads his oil stained hands. "Yeah, well, that's how life is, love. I'll let you get changed - I promise I won't peak!"

Laughing, he leaves Bunker 9; his footsteps stop there, though, and there's a glimmer of relief when you realise he isn't just walking away and leaving you to your own devices.

You get changed quickly, bundling your blood stained clothes into a ball and shoving them beneath your arm - you don't know where you can possibly wash them, but you refuse to leave this camp in Leo's old overalls. First of all, they're much too big on you, pooling over your feet despite Leo's own small stature. The striped shirt he gave you to put underneath it has oil spots embedded in it, too, which just makes you look like even more of a slump. Nonetheless, you throw open the door to Bunker 9 with your arms outstretched and call out, "How do I look?"

Leo peaks his head around and freezes.

You drop your arms, rolling your eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. This isn't a romance movie."

His nose erupts into flames. He yelps, swatting the fire away before he awkwardly coughs and says, "Good. You look good."

You grin. "Thank you. Do you have any idea where I can put these?" You offer up your pile of clothes. Leo takes them from your hands and tosses them over your shoulder, back into Bunker 9. You frown. "Do you have a washing machine in there?"

"It won't take me long to rig one up. I'll have them washed before you leave, don't worry." He offers his arm, grinning yet again. "Now, how about we go up to the dining pavilion and get some food? I'm starving!"

----

Leo did not know one of his best friends was related to such an attractive individual.

It wasn't really that big of a shock when he walked in and saw you sitting there in the living room, looking dazed and out of it with blood dribbling from some pretty severe cuts in your hand. Emma had rang him and filled him on all the details, so there was no surprise at the scene. And plus, Emma's not exactly ugly. She has that rough look to her, sure, but Leo would probably date her if she asked him. Again, it wasn't much of a surprise when he walked in and saw you there, all pretty with the innocence only a mortal could have.

But then he got a glimpse of your personality.

No. Scratch that. He got an entire bucketload of your personality, and he was still craving more by the end of it.

He tried his hardest to fight off these feelings, because he's felt them before - with almost every person he finds attractive, in fact. He gets it lodged in his head that he can impress them, that this is the one and he can make it work if he just tries hard enough. It's kind of hard not to think that way - hopeful, desperate, almost - when all his friends are hooking up and getting boyfriends and girlfriends, generally just having the time of their damn lives. And Leo is just. . . making machines.

But then the two of you went and had dinner together, and he found himself asking if you wanted to go for a walk along the lake before you would have to go to bed. You had agreed, and the conversation had continued, and Leo has never laughed so much in his entire life.

You tell stories of these little memories you have with Emma, enjoying the embarrassing little details you add in whenever you can. Leo struggles to imagine the daughter of Ares being anything close to the Emma you're describing, but he can tell in the passion of your words you're not telling lies.

"What about you, though?" he asks.

Your hands drop to your side, smile curving. "What about me?"

"Well, you're going on about Emma and all the cool stuff she used to do - what about you, though? What have you been up to?"

It's a pretty simple question in Leo's mind; with his ADHD brain, he is able to come up with a million different answers on the spot.

You, however, look at him with a raised brow. He stares right back.

Finally, you crack and say, "Uh. . . I've been doing some school work, I guess."

Leo blinks. "You go to school?"

"I do indeed. I'm studying psychology, but it's really difficult, so I might drop it."

Leo nods like he understands, even though he doesn't. All he really remembers of his school days is him sitting in the back of the classroom plotting his next escape. "Interesting," he says. "Does Emma go to school?"

"She's doing an apprenticeship at some mechanics place. She dropped out when she turned sixteen."

"Naughty."

You shrug. "She does what she wants. I would love to drop out, but Mum would flip." Leo glances at you; the mention of your Mum seems to be something a little heavy, as your smile immediately dips, your shoulders slumping. Leo knows he probably shouldn't pry, but he's Leo, so he does anyway.

"Is your mum tough on you?"

"No. She's not tough at all. She's not light, either. She just. . . lives with me, I guess."

"She just lives with you?"

You inhale, looking out over the lake. For a moment, Leo thinks you might start crying, but then he shakes that thought out of his mind, because you don't seem like the type to cry in front of a stranger, and that's really all Leo is, which is why he shouldn't expect you to open up to him right now, not if this is something you don't want to-

"Mum only had me because she wanted to see if she could get over Emma's dad." You wince. "Ares, I guess."

Leo pauses. His fingertips start glowing, a sign of his anger, but he shoves them in his pockets and dispels the flames before you see them. "That's horrible."

You shrug halfheartedly. "It's fine. She was crazy about the guy from what I've heard - it's why Emma's her favourite. She's the only piece of him she has left, really."

"But that doesn't mean-"

"You don't have to tell me she's a bad mother, Leo. I know. I've known from day one; I've just gotten used to it." You pick up a rock and toss it into the lake. "Honestly, we're better off out of each other's hair anyway; put us in a room together and make us talk, we'll probably burn the house down."

Leo doesn't know how to respond; he's never felt like that. Ever. Even with his dad, there's always been some level of affection there, even though his dad is a Greek god who only pops in when he wants something; Hephaestus has never straight-up ignored him, never made his favouritism clear.

Leo finds he wants to punch something, and not even the steady whisper of the lake can calm him down. He walks a little bit behind you as the silence settles, you picking up random rocks and tossing them into the water, apologising profusely when the eighteen tentacled octopus pokes its head up and yells at you.

Your calmness makes it even worse, though, because that lets Leo know that this treatment is something you've grown used to. You've never known any different.

----

Three days in, and Emma still insists on keeping you at Camp Half-Blood.

"You're not leaving until that giant is dead, and that might take a while."

You drape your arm over your forehead, still sprawled across her bed in the Ares cabin. It's a pretty musty cabin, to be fair, but you won't mention that when all of Emma's siblings are glaring daggers at you. "Do you have any idea how many assessments I'm missing? Mr Wrightchuck is gonna be furious with me, and I do not have the mental energy to deal with his shit right now."

Emma throws a pair of shorts at you. "Shut up and fold those for me."

You grunt, sitting up and getting to work; you've decided to make yourself at least a little bit useful around here. These people were nice enough to offer you accommodation, even though it's clear being around mortals isn't exactly their everyday routine. The amount of times you've hissed in pain because of your hand and been offered a chunk of ambrosia is uncountable.

"So," Emma starts suddenly, taking you by surprise; she hardly ever initiates conversations, preferring to brood in her own head when she can get away with it.

You look at her, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the bright pink laundry hamper she stole off your Aunt Grace. She's not even looking up, lips pursed, eyebrows raised as if expecting you to fill in the blanks from that single word.

"So, what?" you push. "What did I just say, Emma? I don't have the mental energy-"

"You and Leo have been hanging out an awful lot these past few days."

You pause. That certainly wasn't what you had been expecting to hear.

"Uh. . . I suppose. He's a cool guy. Cool fire, and stuff." You wriggle your fingers, imitating flames, though Emma's sideways glare makes you mumble an apology and drop your hand to your side. "Is there something wrong with Leo and I being pals?"

"Leo's a very. . . hopeful boy," Emma replies. "He tends to get lost in his own fantasies sometimes."

You blink. "What, like kinks?"

Emma groans, throwing some socks at you. "No, you idiot! When he likes someone, he tends to get a little carried away. It's quite sad to see, actually."

"What does that have to do with me and him being friends?"

Emma glances at you; you recognise that look. It makes your stomach curl, heat rising to your cheeks. You look away, coughing awkwardly into her shirt before you mumble, "No. No, absolutely not. Leo doesn't like me that way."

Emma shrugs, grin spreading across her face. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm just saying, if you don't like him that way, try and break the illusion as soon as possible. It's easier to just rip the bandaid off."

"You're heartless."

"I'm a daughter of Ares, Y/N. We don't bullshit people. We say it how it is."

You scowl, snatching another set of trousers from her wash pile and getting to work, trying to ignore the thump of your heartbeat, which suddenly seems to have sped up a fair bit.

----

You lose track of how long it has been since you last saw your mother.

This happens sometimes, these long stretches of time when neither of you will acknowledge the other person; it's easier that way, just pretending she doesn't exist, just pretending the house is empty besides you.

You've been caught up in camp activities these past few weeks. Your hand is starting to heal, the nerves tingling, which Will says is a good sign. You've been talking to other campers, learning more and more about the world Emma has kept hidden from you for so long, a world that fascinates you, a world you will never want to be properly part of.

Now, however, you see her. Sitting on her own by the lake, knobbly knees pulled into her chest, dazed eyes locked on the swirling water in front of her. The little sea creatures have long since hidden, probably put-off by the presence of a stranger, but your mother doesn't seem to care. She just sits all on her own, long hair billowing out behind her as the moon begins to rise in the distance.

You lean against a tree just a little bit behind her and say, "Are you not cold?"

She doesn't even flinch, like the voice of her child has no effect on her whatsoever. Instead, she digs her fingernails into the dirt and grabs a handful of stones, lobbing them into the lake.

You sigh and crouch down next to her; she smells of sweat and dirt, a sure sign that she hasn't been taking much care of herself these past few weeks. "Let's go back to the Big House, Mum. You're gonna get hypothermia out here."

"He will protect me," she replies. "He's always protecting me."

"You mean Ares? Emma's Dad?"

"He's protected me from day one; he loves Emma and I. He's just busy."

You swallow, staring at the side of her face. "I'm sure he does, Mum. But he's clearly running a little late right now, so he's asked me to come make sure you get wrapped up before the wind eats you alive." You gaze at the trees. "Which I'm pretty sure is a thing that actually happens here."

Finally, your mum gazes at you, lower lip trembling. "I just want him to talk to me."

You freeze; it's most unlike your mother to talk like this, especially to you. She rants and raves about Ares to Emma, but she barely pays you any attention when it comes to things like this. You don't really know how to handle it, whether you should comfort her and tell her Ares loves her - this Greek god, surviving somewhere on Mount Olympus, overlooking the entire world. Yes, of course he still loves her. Of course he does.

But the other half of you just doesn't want to lie. You don't want to get her hopes up any more than they already are, because anyone with a brain will be able to see that Ares has long since forgotten about the mortal woman he apparently fell in love with, and the daughter they created together.

So, you grab your mum's hand and drag her to her feet. She slumps against you like a child having a tantrum, and you have to basically lift her off the floor to get anywhere. Nonetheless, you eventually have her standing, and together, you walk up the hill, back to the main camp.

It's dark, probably past curfew, but campers are still walking about. Mostly the Apollo cabin, never off their feet with the casualties they have to tend to in a day, though there are other campers enjoying a late night cup of hot chocolate by the fire, laughing merrily. They don't notice you walking up the hill, don't notice your mum mumbling to herself, words you can't even grasp being right beside her.

"The Ares cabin," your mum suddenly blurts.

You pause, nearly stumbling over your own two feet as your head whips around to the direction she is now staring, eyes wide.

"Yes, Mum," you grumble. "That is the Ares cabin - now, can we keep moving before my fingers fall off?"

"Is that where you've been sleeping these past few weeks?"

You narrow your eyes. "What? Yes, Mum, it is; Emma lets me sleep with her, now can we please-"

"He isn't your father."

You stop dead in your tracks; oh no. You've heard this line of speech before, and it's never pleasant. Mum gets angry, enraged, when she thinks you're trying to take on the same status as her beloved Emma, daughter of the war god. She likes to keep you in your place, which is a good few tiers below everybody else, apparently.

"I know that," you say quickly. "Emma was just nice enough to lend me her bed so I didn't have to sleep in the Hermes cabin - you know I don't know my way around here, so-"

"He wouldn't like you sleeping amongst his children. He told me."

"He what now?"

She shakes out of your grip, gritting her teeth. Her eyes are wild, dilated beyond anything you've ever seen, and when she next speaks, the words are a cry. "He told me!" She shakes her head, gripping the strands of hair between trembling fingers. "He's so mad at me, Y/N; he told me it was disrespectful to have a child with another man. He said he would burn you to the ground if you stepped out of line. He said he would kill you, just to teach me a lesson for going behind his back!"

You blink. You're used to this. You're meant to be used to this, but holy mother of god - gods? - you don't know what she's on about. You've never heard her talk like this. You've never heard her speak of your death before, and the words coming from her mouth are so eerie, so fucking terrifying that you stumble back, hands trembling, tears rushing to the surface.

"You crazy bitch."

She laughs, loud and clear so the entire camp's attention turns directly to her. "That's what he said! He called me insane, and then he said he loved me and gave me a child - and that child certainly wasn't you."

"Mum, what are you-"

"He talks to me sometimes, you know." She nods, hands still buried in her hair, tugging her eyes back so she looks demented. "In my head, he talks. We have little conversations, but he's been so much more talkative since we arrived here, like this place really is my home." She releases her hair, eyes dimming. "But you're not meant to be here; he told me that, too. He said Emma and I were welcome amongst his kind, but not you - not a bastard like you."

You look around; all the demigods are on their feet now, staring at the scene in confusion. It's embarrassing, absolutely mortifying to suddenly be the centre of their attention, especially under such circumstances.

"Okay," you croak out. "Okay, that's fine - I'll go, then. Leave you and Emma here. I don't mind, Mum. You don't have to get angry."

Mum's nostrils flare. "It's not me who's angry - it's him-"

"Well, tell him that he doesn't have to get his godly bollocks in a twist, because I'm leaving." You raise your hands in faux surrender, taking a few tentative steps back. "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again."

The words hurt, but they're the truth - especially now. Mum doesn't respond, merely stares as you take a few more steps backwards, turn on your heel and dart towards the Ares cabin, fighting desperately to push the tears away, because crying is stupid.

This is just your mum being. . . your mum, just as she's always been. Sure, her words tonight were a little harsher than you're used to, but her neglect has given you thick skin, thick enough to take her words on the chin.

You see the Ares cabin, and run right past it towards the lake. You nearly slip in the mud on your way down the hill, catching yourself before finally crumbling to the floor against a tree by the lake side.

You'll take her words on the chin, but you'll cry over them first.

----

When Leo hears the news, he's pretty sure his blood turns to fire.

He's half-asleep, but that doesn't stop his understanding of Will's words, his descriptions of the scene he just witnessed at the camp fire.

And the thing is, after hearing all the things your mum has done to you, Leo isn't even surprised to hear it's finally boiled over.

Doesn't make him any less angry.

He storms out of the Hephaestus cabin wearing nothing but his pyjamas. He feels the heat beneath his skin, threatening to break the surface as he forces it down, gritting his teeth. He's half tempted to turn to the Big House to give your mum a piece of his mind, but his main concern at the moment is you, and where you've gone, and where you plan on going, because according to Will, your last words to her were "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again." That's a horrible thought. Leo doesn't want to think about that.

He heads to the lake, because according to Will, that's the direction you were running, and Leo knows how much you like the lake; it calms you down, you said, and he stored that piece of information in his brain for weeks, as if in preparation for this very moment.

He stops at the top of the hill and gazes down, lighting up the darkness with a ball of fire cupped in the palm of his hand. You don't flinch at the sudden intrusion, instead curling into a tighter ball against the roots of a tree, burying your head in your knees. The sight breaks his heart. He swallows, slowly waddling down the hill, careful not to fall in the dirt.

You don't look up when he finally arrives at your side. "Y/N."

"Who told you?"

Leo crouches. "Will. He said you seemed upset."

"That's literally nobody's business."

Leo sighs, slumping against the tree beside you; his shoulder brushes your own, and for a moment, you stiffen against his side. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you're not cool with that," he says. "I'm not being nosy or anything."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm really not. I just wanted to make sure that witch didn't hurt your feelings too bad." He pauses. "What did she actually say?"

Your head snaps up, eyes blood shot, lips dry. "Ah, see! You are just being nosy!"

He swats your arm, scowling. "Be quiet, no I'm not; but how am I meant to help you if I don't even know what happened?"

"I never said I wanted help, Leo. My mum not caring about me isn't something that can just be helped." And you didn't even realise those were the words you were going to say, because they sound so heartbreaking, so self-pitying, even though they're the truth. You've always just brushed your mothers behaviour off as normal, the only hand you've ever been dealt, but phrasing it in that way, claiming she doesn't care . . . something about that makes your heart break.

Your lower lip trembles before you can stop it, fresh tears springing to the surface. You remember holidays, catching Emma wrapping up gifts of her own to give to you, just so you could wake up to something on Christmas morning. You remember making your own Halloween costume because your mother spent all her money on Emma's. You remember thinking it was okay, because it was all you ever knew.

You're older now, though. You can recognise mistreatment when you see it, but it's still a blow to the chest realising that you were on the other end of it, that you're a victim, whether you want to deny it or not.

Leo notices your sudden change of emotions and immediately lurches forward. His fingers are hot, almost scalding when they make contact with your arm, his brown eyes burning holes into your own. His eyebrows are furrowed when he says your name in a whisper, just your name, like nothing else needs to be said.

You close your eyes. "I'm fine."

"I wish you'd stop saying that. It's starting to grate on my skull, and I can't afford that kind of damage."

You let out a breath of a laugh, just because you think it's appropriate; in truth, you find none of this funny. You want to curl up and cry. You want to leave Camp Half-Blood and everything it stands for, start a life away from demigods and Greek gods alike.

What's stopping you?

Leo's hands heat up on your arm, forcing you to look at him again. He's closer now, head tilted, all amusement flushed from his features, which is a sad enough sight on it's own. It's been two seconds, but you already miss that sparkle in his eyes.

"Hey," he says quietly. "Talk to me."

And you do. You don't know why, but you do. The words pour out like a broken faucet, a complete mess of incoherence's that Leo - and only Leo - would ever be able to understand. He nods along like the words are making sense, like these sentences aren't just complete gibberish.

When you finish explaining everything that happened down at the camp fire, you gasp, starved for air. Leo grabs your hand and tugs you forward, cupping your face in his attempts to calm you down; you didn't realise the tears had started pouring, didn't realise you're breathing heavily, totally lost, unable to catch a breath.

"Calm down," he mumbles. "Y/N, calm down. I'm here. I've got you, pal, I've got you."

You close your eyes, leaning into his palm. He traces his thumbs along your cheeks before slowly, slowly, slowly running his hand over your ear, tucking a strand of hair back. His eyes never leave your face, despite the state you know you are in, how awful you must look.

"I'm sorry," you choke out. "I didn't mean to. . . to get so worked up."

"Don't be stupid," he replies. "Did she really say all that to you?"

"She's not in her right mind out here. She thinks she's one of you guys, that she can be part of the group just because-"

"Because she slept with Ares?"

You laugh, exhausted. "Yes, exactly."

Leo rolls his eyes, finally letting his hands drop back to his sides. "Honestly, everyone and their grandfather has probably slept with Ares. She's nothing special, and she needs to get that through her head." He pauses. The air crackles. "But - uh - you're, you know, special. Very special."

You blink, certain you heard him wrong. The words don't really make sense in this context, so you're trying to disentangle them.

Finally, you crack and say, "What?"

Leo rubs the back of his neck, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. Over the hill, everything is silent as Half-Bloods sleep, unknowing to the panic attack that has just captured you, unknowing to the magic Leo has just cast to calm you down.

"I said you're special," he mumbles. "In a good way, I mean. Like, a really good way."

Your heart thunders. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome." He looks at you then, chirping up. "But seriously, don't let her get to you. She's just a love sick psycho who doesn't know when to back down. Clingy ex-girlfriend and all that."

He changes the topic so swiftly it nearly gives you whiplash. You stare at him for another moment, and just when you're about to open your mouth to continue the previous, deserted conversation, Leo stands and reaches his hand out. "Shall we go before Hedge thinks there's some funny business going on?"

You nod dumbly, taking his hand only because you don't know what you want to say in response to what he has just said - he called you special, and he said it like it was just. . . normal, like it was something you could slip in without any further questions being asked.

You try and let the subject drop as Leo leads you back into camp. He walks you to the door of the Ares cabin, and it is there that he turns to you and says, voice low, "You can sleep in my cabin if your mum is in there; Chiron won't mind, and I won't either."

"No, it's okay," you reply. "Mum's staying in the Big House; I'll just slip in next to Emma." You glance at him, his eyes meeting yours because he never looked away. He looks so sweet beneath the lantern light, flames dancing across his skin like they were always meant to be there, like Leo has lived his life in fire and came out smiling every time. "Thank you, Leo; you really didn't have to help me tonight."

He scoffs. "Don't be daft. Next time you have any issues, I want you to run to me instead of the river naiads, you hear?"

You smile and nod. "I hear."

And so, Leo and you bid each other goodnight, and you watch as he walks across camp, past the Hephaestus cabin, right in the direction of Bunker 9. Half of you wants to go after him, question him on his use of the word special earlier on, but you don't. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, and so you turn on your heel and head into the Ares cabin, unable to stop the tiny smile that forms on your face.

----

Bunker 9 looks very nice in the morning.

"Oh, the tin is just glistening!"

Leo yelps, dropping a spanner on the ground as he whirls around. His overalls are covered in oil, along with his face, arms, legs, and every other body part that is presented to you on this fine Monday morning. In your hand is a plate of steaming cinnamon buns that Leo's eyes immediately fix upon, his startled expression quickly being replaced by one of pure hunger. You're almost certain you see his mouth salivating.

You tug the plate back, holding one arm out. "Not so fast, Fire Boy."

He frowns. "What did you just call me?"

"No cinnamon buns for you until you tell me how many hours of sleep you got last night."

Leo raises a brow, a tiny smirk making an appearance. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope. I want the details, Valdez, or these cinnamon buns are all mine."

"That's really unfair, and very unnecessary. A body like mine was made to work off two hours sleep."

Your eyes widen. "Two hours? Leo!"

"Can you just hand me my breakfast already?"

You groan, but a promise is a promise. You set the plate down on a nearby toolbox before pushing yourself onto the counter, legs swinging. Leo dives for the plate, nudging your knee with his hip as he grabs the first cinnamon bun he can see and stuffs it in his mouth, nearly swallowing the thing whole.

"Watch you don't choke."

"Why are you so protective this morning?"

"Two hours sleep, Leo? That's awful."

He shrugs, fingers hovering over the plate as he searches for his next victim. "I'm used to it. I'm not even tired! It was a really refreshing two hours."

"You get worse, you know."

Leo rolls his eyes, looking up at you. "And how many hours of sleep did you get, Sleeping Beauty?"

"More than two hours."

He clicks his fingers. "I want the details."

You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away. "I had six hours, if you must know. I'm refreshed and ready for my day!"

"So am I."

"Liar."

"And what?"

You laugh, and Leo smiles, making the noise louder than it really is.

"But no," he continues. "Don't you go worrying about me, dear. Ol' Leo Valdez can handle himself."

"Ol' Leo Valdez needs to take a nap."

"A nap? Sounds cowardly." He grabs the spanner from the floor, spins it in the air, catches it with an ease that makes your breath catch. "How about I show you the new updates I've made to Festus?"

Festus, Leo's pride and joy, the one thing in the world he will talk about for hours upon hours on end; you've sat there and listened to him every single time, absorbing every word, even if you don't understand it. He talks about circuits and updates and tools you have never heard of, but he says it all with such enthusiasm it's almost impossible not to get involved. And even though you know you should be stubborn, insisting on him getting into bed right this instant, you want to see him in that state again. You always want to see him in that state, eyes glittering with passion, hands moving all over the place, smile brighter than anything.

He doesn't need an answer. You simply smile at him, slightly exasperated, and he says, "Alright!" before spinning on his heel, the very beginning of his lecture.

You listen to him talk like how you would listen to lo-fi music. Your legs swing back and forth, back and forth, a tiny smile gracing your features. Leo shows you different parts, illuminating the inside of Festus's new helmet with fire ignited in his calloused palm. It makes his grin impossibly brighter. It makes his curls that little bit darker. It's him.

Finally, he spins and says, "Cool, right?" and even though you were mildly distracted the entire time, you nod and say, "Very cool. As always."

"What are you doing here so early, anyway?" He strolls over, casually plucking another cinnamon roll off the plate and taking a bite.

"I saw you heading to Bunker 9 last night and just assumed this was where you slept. I thought you said you didn't sleep in here?"

He shrugs. "I sleep in here when I'm stressed; gets me away from the ruckus of everyone else, you know."

You raise a brow. "You were stressed?"

"Of course I was stressed." He looks at you, exasperated. "Do you not remember anything we discussed last night?"

You blink; it's not that you had forgotten - there's no way you'll be forgetting that night any time soon - but you thought for sure Leo had. Yes, he'd been there to help you through it, and he was the reason you went to bed smiling, but you were still a mortal, and your problems surely could never be as big as his. You genuinely sat in front of him and cried about feeling neglected by your mother when his own mother is dead, and his Dad doesn't even talk to him, too busy producing other godly children. But here he is, head tilted and eyes slashed with worry. You almost want to look away, but the colour in them has become so noticeably entrancing these past few weeks that you find it nearly impossible to do so.

"I didn't mean to stress you out," is all you can manage. "I was just ranting."

"You were crying."

"I was - I mean - like - yeah, I guess, but you don't have to stress."

Leo narrows his eyes. "You really are dense, aren't you?"

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him for saying such a thing, but your words are swallowed by the loud clang clang clang of the door opening. Leo stares at you for a second longer before glancing over his shoulder, sharing your shock at the sight of Will popping his head in the door. His lower lip is pulled between his teeth, movements slow and timid.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," he says. "But we kind of need Y/N up at camp."

Those words are terrifying. They jolt you and Leo into action almost immediately; you slip off the counter, stumbling over a few discarded wrenches and old toolboxes. Leo catches you before you can fall, but neither of you comment on your suddenly linked hands before following Will out the door, curiosity getting the better of you.

You hear the commotion before you see it.

The sound of your mothers shrill voice is all-too familiar, and it echoes now. Bouncing off trees, sinking into the dirt, giving you a blistering headache that immediately makes you want to turn around and pretend you never heard it. But there's a crowd, an ocean of demigods, all with weapons and angry expressions trained on the woman who raised you - the woman who tried raising you - and despite the anger you once felt towards her, you pick up your pace, rush into the scene and say, "Ay! Get that spear out of my face!"

The demigod - you don't even know who she is - stumbles back, gaping at you. You don't give her the time of day, instead pivoting on your heel towards your mother.

There she is, stood in the middle of the clearing with her arms above her head, screaming up at the sky. Blood coats her elbows and knees. Chiron and Emma are beside her, but it seems like both of them have given up trying to make her see sense; they simply stare, Emma with tears in her eyes, Chiron looking like he's on the verge of booting her out of camp right this instant.

Leo stumbles to your side and grabs your arm. "What's wrong with her?"

You touch your mum's arm. "Mum, you're being proper embarrassing right now."

She spins. Her hair is matted, the product of having not been washed in weeks. Her eyes are dark, lips chapped and bitten, utterly destroyed. You've seen her when she's having one of her episodes, but this is worse. This is the worst you've ever seen it. It breaks your heart, even though it shouldn't. It was only last night she was basically calling you worthless, a mistake, the reason her little affair with a Greek god didn't work out.

You swallow. "Mum. . . It's me."

"Emma?"

You bite your lip, trying to ignore how much that hurts. "Uh. . . not quite, but nearly. Emma's over there."

"Don't get me involved in this," Emma spits, roughly swiping a hand across her cheek. "I don't want anything to do with her."

Your heart judders. Your mother's eyes narrow, like she's taking a little longer to process her first childs words. You decide to step in before she has a chance to.

"No, Mum, I'm not Emma, I'm Y/N. I'm here to - uh - take you home."

As soon as you say it, you want to curl in on yourself. It's a truth you've been trying to avoid these past few weeks, the idea of finally breaking away from camp and heading back to your shitty apartment with your shitty mother to live a shitty life of online classes and pretending everything is normal and okay. Behind you, Leo mumbles, "Sorry, what was that?" which hurts your heart even more. "Yeah," you continue, taking another timid step towards her. A branch cracks beneath your foot, and your mother flinches, looks up into the sky like the sound of a god appearing will be nothing more than a simple crack.

"Yeah, Mum, we're gonna go home, and you're gonna get some rest, okay? You look exhausted."

"Exhausted," she mumbles. "Home."

"Home, yeah. Remember home? We liked it there. Things were normal there."

Mum's nostrils flare. "Normal-"

"But our house is also where Ares thinks we are right now!" you barrel on. "He's got our address in his little address book - he doesn't actually know we're at Camp Half-Blood right now."

Her shoulders deflate, eyes brightening. "Oh. You're right. He's probably visited so many times and we haven't even been there! He's going to be so angry!"

"So, so angry." You wrap your arm around her shoulder, gently drawing her away from the crowd of angry demigods, of sobbing sisters and confused centaurs. You meet Leo's eyes only once, and it's enough to shatter your being, enough for the burning of tears to erupt through your senses. You want to turn and run to him, tell him you're sorry, promise to never leave him, but the feelings are so extraordinary and so weird, unfamiliar, that you can't.

You turn your gaze to the floor and guide your mother through the crowd towards the Big House, uttering words about home and comfort, and going back to a life you want to abandon for good. You pretend it's all okay, because that's all you've ever known.

----

Leo finds you that same night.

You left your mother in Chiron's care. She fell asleep immediately, and you were free to do what you wanted after that, but the thought of parading through Camp Half-Blood after being in the centre of such a weird scene made your stomach curl, so you stayed by her side until you were positive most of the campers were in bed, sleeping.

Except Leo, of course.

He sits down in the grass, shoulder brushing yours. You don't look over; you know it's him just from the scent of oil, and the way he cracks his knuckles, and the way he awkwardly coughs into the darkness. These are all little things of him you have memorised. Each one makes your heart ache.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks. "You don't have to do all that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Stick up for her. Make her comfortable.

" You shrug. "I know I don't."

"So why do you do it?"

"Because she's my mum."

"She's barely your mum. She doesn't even do the bare minimum for you."

True. Painfully, awkwardly true.

You shrug again. Leo sighs, tilting his head back. When you glance over, you see him gazing up at the stars, jaw clenched in a way that throws off the soft features of his face you have grown so used to seeing. You don't like it.

You reach over and poke his cheek in an attempt to make him loosen up. He closes his eyes. "I don't get it."

"What?"

"Why you have to be the one taking care of her when she's never taken care of you."

You swallow thickly. "I'm not. . . I'm not taking care of her. I'm just-"

"Then what was that back there?"

"That was me trying to make sure my mum didn't get a spear shoved down her throat. It's basic human decency, Leo."

He purses his lips, like this is something he has never heard of.

You sigh, slumping back against a tree. "I don't hate my mum, you know; she's done some fucked up stuff to me, but I don't hate her."

Leo stares at you. His eyes are lazors, flames, beams pouring into the side of your head, and you want to look at him, but you think it would be a very bad idea right now.

Neither of you say anything for what feels like forever, which is a big deal when sitting with someone like Leo Valdez. The only noise filling in the silence is the steady drip of rain drops rolling down the leaves, bouncing against the lakes surface. A few ocean creatures peak their heads up, examine the scene, duck back beneath the water.

And then, "Are you actually leaving?"

You bite back a sob. "You didn't expect me to stay here forever, did you?"

Leo doesn't respond.

"She's not well here," you continue, tilting your head back. The moon waves at you. The stars smile. "She was bad at home, but being here - around this kind of thing - it's going to drive her insane."

"She's a grown woman."

"Ares messed her up." It's the first time you've said it out loud, the truth. Your mother was okay before she met that man. You've heard stories from your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, of the days when your mum was winning medals for her skills in ballet, the days she was getting awards for her academic success, the days where she played mediator in a house full of people who could never see eye-to-eye on anything. You listened to them with only half-interest, because you never fully believed them. You had lived with the crazy side of her for too long by that point.

But it's true. Ares waltzed into her life, promised her the world, gave her this child with skills beyond human comprehension, gave her a taste of real love for the first time in her life - and then he left.

"Why do gods think they can just get away with that?" you find yourself asking before you can stop. "Mess with people's lives like that. Why do they think that's okay?"

Leo sighs. "They run the world. They can do whatever they want."

"That seems really unfair."

"Yeah, well, it's also unfair that you have to give up your own happiness for your mum."

You close your eyes; there it is again, the topic breached. Leo doesn't understand that this is all you've ever known - caring for her, making sure she's okay, being ignored and neglected because you're not the gods child. He doesn't understand that this has been your life from day one. You were never given a chance to mind it. You were never given a chance to know anything else.

"You know, I think this place could really benefit with someone like you."

You look at him. "You're just saying that."

He shrugs, picking up a pebble and lobbing it at the lake. Always keeping his hands moving, never being still. "Maybe. Maybe I'm just a little desperate for you to stay." He looks at you. "Is that weird?"

You swallow, unable to respond, because you want to tell him no, no of course it's not weird, please keep talking and I'll stay, I'll stay here with you, I'll never leave, I never wanted to leave in the first place.

Leo looks down at his hands, fingers fiddling with the threads dangling from his overalls. "Sorry. I - I didn't mean to - like - put you on the spot or anything. I just care about you. A lot. And I hate seeing you upset. It bothers me."

The way it says it, words spoken through gritted teeth, makes your heart stutter. Oddly, it reminds you of those days spent laughing in Bunker 9, calling him stupid as he tried so hard to keep you amused, like he wanted to keep your attention as firm as possible so you wouldn't get up and leave. For once in your life, someone wants you to stay.

And it's sad - heartbreaking, even - that you have been cursed with these circumstances, that the mere notion of staying at Camp Half-Blood is so beyond reality; you're no demigod. Even if your mother were to head home on her own, do you a favour for once, the chances of Chiron being allowed to let you stay are incredibly, incredibly slim. You won't entertain the idea. You won't get your hopes up like that. You won't play to your own feelings, because that has never done anything for you, nothing but leave you in a state of despair.

And so, you keep quiet, staring out over the lake with Leo by your side, his hands working, his mind probably racing, your heart a steady thump in the distance.

---

The next day, you are ready to leave.

You packed all your things the night before. You said all your goodbyes the night before. You and Emma got into a brutal argument the night before, and now you're stood before her, trembling from head to toe as you patiently wait for Chiron to lead your mother to Thalia's pine tree so the both of you can finally be let go.

Emma stares at you. She's been doing that since last night, her hands balled into fists, jaw strong, so she looks a little bit like her father; you can say that now. You hate him. You think you'd punch him in the face if you ever saw him.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this for her."

"I never understood why you hate her so much - you're the one she actually cares about."

Emma grits her teeth, looking to the ground in that way she so often does when she's trying not to punch you square in the face. "That's not the point."

"You don't even deny it any more," you scoff. "You've just come to terms with the fact that she basically worships the ground you walk on. How about you start understanding how lucky you are rather than giving me grief for taking care of her?"

"Taking care of her?" Emma bursts. "She's your mother! She should be taking care of you!"

"Right, but that's not the way things have turned out, so we might as well cut the shit now before-"

"Leo spoke to me, you know." You freeze. Your mouth stays open, eyes widening; Leo is the absolute last thing you want to talk about right now, not after last night, not after hearing the hint of heartbreak in his voice when he realised it was too late, you were too far gone, there was no keeping you.

Emma nods, even though you haven't said anything, even though you can do nothing but stare at her in complete shock and bewilderment. "Yeah, Leo Valdez, the boy you're head over heels in love with."

You splutter. "What?"

"Oh, don't play dumb! I've seen the way you are with each other. I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you, and for fuck sake Y/N, you shouldn't have to give all that up for someone like her!"

"That person you're on about is our mother!"

"And what? That means you have to put your entire life on hold for her?" Emma drops her sword in a move close to desperation, startling you when she barrels forward and grabs your shoulders. She holds you at arms length, eyes like fire. "You're my only little sibling, Y/N; it's my job more than anything else to look after you, and I'm not going to sit back and let your selflessness ruin your whole life."

You blink, and only then do the tears make an appearance. You think of Leo, even though you hate it, even though you've already said your goodbyes to him and you should just leave it at that. He hugged you, and you hugged him, and you apologised and he told you there was nothing to be sorry for - it was the perfect potential ending, but you don't want it to be over.

Emma is right; you're jeopardising your own happiness for this woman.

Emma stares at you, the tears leaking from your eyes. Her own lower lip trembles, but she's Emma, so she won't start crying. Not properly.

You inhale shakily, ducking your head down. "I can't let her go home on her own, Em. She'll never make it. She'll never agree to go if she doesn't have someone with her."

"So I'll go."

You freeze. "What?"

Emma tilts her head forward, catching your eye. "I said, I'll go. I'll take her home, get her settled, and then I'll get someone to come take care of her - a professional. Someone who should have been there for her a long bloody time ago. You can stay here for a while."

Your heart thunders. You're certain you've heard her wrong, because this isn't right - none of this is right. Emma's the demigod. She should be the one staying here whilst you get shipped off back home with your mother. That's how things have always been, how things were always meant to be. But when you look back at your older sister now, there is no glimmer of amusement in her eyes; she's being serious, more serious than you've ever seen her before.

She squeezes your shoulders, curling her stubby nails into the fabric of your hoodie. "I mean it, Y/N. If you want to stay here-"

"I do," you croak out. "I really, really do."

"For Leo?"

You blink.

Emma grins. "For Leo." She pats your shoulder, nearly knocking you off your feet. "Go, before her and Chiron make an appearance. I think Valdez is-"

But you don't let her finish. You know where Leo is even without her input, and so you throw yourself into her arms, squeal a thank you in her ear before sprinting off down the hill towards Bunker 9.

The gods should be yelling at you right now, casting lightning and rain and every other deadly element down upon you, because this must be so far out of the rule book. This must be going entirely against everything they have ever set up, every rule they have laid out - a mortal in one of their demigod camps? A mortal hanging around their children like their even close to being equal. Complete blasphemy.

But you don't care. Not when you round the corner to see the door to Bunker 9 already wide open, little flashes of Leo Valdez skimming past the entryway.

You pause in the trees, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of what he is doing, and it is only then do you see the spanner smash against one of the windows. The glass doesn't shatter, but it shakes and it makes a loud noise, and it's followed closely by Leo yelling out a curse that would get him blown to smithereens if his father were to hear it.

You sprint towards the door. "Leo?"

He spins around, eyes widening. He grips his hand, blood seeping from one of his fingers, dribbling down his wrist and landing upon his boots. He doesn't seem to care, though, simply staring at you in shock.

And then, "Y/N?"

You throw yourself forward, grabbing his wrist. The blood from his gets caught beneath your fingers, but you don't care. You stare at it, shaking your head, whispering his name over and over, and all he can do is stare at you, dumbfounded, before he exclaims, "Hey, wait!" and stumbles back, yanking his hand from your grip in the process.

"Leo, let me have a look at that-"

"You shouldn't be here right now!"

"Okay, Leo, yes, we'll discuss that later, but please, let me look at your hand. What the hell did you even do?"

You reach for him, but he's like a wild animal, startled and afraid. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a toolbox discarded on the floor. You notice the mess that wasn't there this morning, the tools laying everywhere, sheets of torn paper thrown left, right and centre, broken glass littering the hard floor.

"Jesus, Leo," you gasp. "What have you been doing in here?"

"Why are you back? Why aren't you away yet?"

You lift your gaze, narrowing your eyes. "If you want me to go, you can just say so." And right now, looking at the scene around you and the state of Leo's hand, and his startled expression, you don't even feel bad that he very well might just ask you to turn and leave. Your mind is preoccupied, wanting nothing more than to grab him and force him to shut up so you can pay some attention to the gaping wound on the tip of his finger. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He's staring at you, unable to move, small of his back pressed against the workbench. The blood welling in his fingertip looks to only be getting worse.

"Leo," you say softly. "Please, can we talk about this later?"

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't run away when you take a step towards him, either. His eyes never leave your own as you reach for his hand and pull him towards a chair in the corner, slowly pushing him into it. You softly ask him to reach into that magic toolbelt of his to pull out some medical supplies, and he does so with trembling hands, never saying a word, never really needing to.

You get to work in silence, trying to ignore the thumping of your own heart, the tremble of your own hands, the desperate need you have to just apologise over and over and over for scaring him so bad, for startling him to the point where he can't even form a full sentence, to the point where he was willing to run away from you.

You clean the wound and bandage it the best way you can, remembering all those times as a child when you would cut yourself by accident and your mum would be too dazed or too neglectful to take you to the hospital or do anything about it herself.

Leo watches your hands working wonders until it's all finally complete and you step back, admiring your handiwork with a pleased grin on your face. "Not too shabby."

Leo swallows. Finally you take the time to look at him, his pale face and startled eyes; he looks like he's on the verge of tears, which really isn't the reaction you were hoping to receive when you walked back into Bunker 9.

You fold your arms over your chest, nibbling your bottom lip as you say, "I'm staying."

Leo exhales shakily. "I don't get it. Last night you were so adamant-"

"I know. I know I was, but I never wanted to go in the first place."

"So why-"

"Emma made me realise some things." You push yourself onto the workbench behind you, the very same spot you always found yourself sitting when Leo is working away on one of his projects. You used to sit with your legs pulled beneath you, watching him work in silence.

He stares at you. "I fully prepared myself to never see you again."

You wince. "I'm sorry."

And then he's scrambling out of his chair, stumbling between your legs, grabbing your hands, tugging them into his chest, all in that order. You gasp at the touch, the rough fabric of his plaster rubbing against your wrist, the forever warm touch of his skin so familiar yet you crave it so badly.

He's shaking his head, mumbling "No," on repeat beneath his breath

. "Leo. . ."

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he says. "So don't apologise to me again, alright? I don't want it. I don't need it - all that matters now is that you're here, and you - you said you're staying." He looks up, almost timid. "Did I hear that right?"

You nod, dazed; he's not mad. He's happy. He's smiling, and his eyes are doing that thing again where they glint and they crease into crescents, and he looks so cute, so happy, so like the Leo you've come to know and love so deeply. It makes your heart stutter. It makes this entire thing so, so worth it.

He grins. "Oh gods, Y/N, you scared the shit out of me. I nearly tore this place to the ground-"

"I can see that," you croak.

He winces, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to - It was honestly an accident, but-"

"It's okay, Leo." His head snaps back round.

"It's okay?"

"It's all okay."

You reach forward, winding your arm around his neck, dragging him closer. His curls flood through your fingers, his eyes fluttering closed for a split second before he opens them again and says, "Can I kiss you?"

You nod, because of course he can. He does just that, pressing his lips to yours delicately, so, so delicately, like he's afraid you'll shatter. His hands are tender on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle, mindless circles into the fabric of your shirt, and it's all so slow, all so gentle, but your heart is exploding into constellations, sprinkling over your being in a way you have never experienced before.

For someone who is never still, never calm, never quiet, his kisses are like a warm summer afternoon spent wading along a beach. They are aquamarine waters and birds chirping around a morning sunrise. They are everything and nothing and more than enough but never enough all in the same breath.

He pulls away first, uncertain, glancing nervously into your eyes as he slowly releases you. He takes a steady step back, rubbing the back of his neck, and it takes everything in you not to pull him back in.

Instead you laugh, swinging your legs back and forth like a giddy child. "Don't look so sheepish or I'll think you've poisoned me."

"I'm not very good at that," he mumbles. "Machines don't usually need kissed, so I don't tend to do it that often."

"I'd hope not." You grab his hand, pulling him back between your knees. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."

He opens his mouth, ready to protest your apologies once again, but you cut him off with five fingertips pressed to his lips. His eyes cross over as he glares at them, making you giggle. "I know you said I shouldn't apologise, but I shouldn't have been so. . . hasty. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. I should have let you speak-"

"I don't say very interesting things."

"You say the most interesting things." You drop your hand, intertwine your fingers with his. "But I'm staying, Leo. I promise." He exhales shakily, like this is what he has been waiting to hear for a while now; it breaks your heart, rejuvenates you at the same time, and you realise suddenly just how awful it would have been to pack up your stuff and head home, to live a life without Leo Valdez in it.

---

Your mother looks a little better. A little healthier. A little happier.

Emma sits beside her, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a denim jacket over the top. She looks happy, too, a little exhausted, but you never expected anything less. She's still smiling, though, and when her face appears in the Iris message, she lets out a happy sigh of relief.

"I thought you two would fuck it up."

"Go to hell, Emma," says Leo.

You chuckle, leaning back in your seat; it's been two weeks since Mum and Emma went back to the flat together, two weeks since you agreed to spend the rest of your summer at Camp Half-Blood, working on a relationship with Leo Valdez. It's been a grand two weeks, yes, but you still have responsibilities back in the real world.

"So, how's it going?" you ask. "Mum, you're still going to therapy, aren't you?"

"Yes," Mum mumbles, sounding more like an anguished teenager than anything else. "I've told you both already, I don't need it - I got over Ares years ago. I have my own family now - he can go to hell."

"Tartarus," Leo corrects.

"Whatever."

You grin. It's been so long - so long - since you've heard your mum mention you in the same context as Emma, including your name in the same sentence as the word family. Leo must notice your sudden shift in mood, as he chuckles, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back. He does that sometimes, letting you know he's there, like you'd ever forget. You reach behind you and tangle your fingers with his, subtly placing your joined hands in your lap.

"A few more weeks," you tell her. "That's all you have to endure, and then they're putting you on that trial, aren't they?"

"Apparently," Mum replies. "I was thinking of coming to visit you."

You and Emma share a look - the last time your mother was at Camp Half-Blood, things didn't exactly go well. The energy of this place drove her insane, reminded her of days with Ares, reminded her she'd been abandoned by the one man she ever loved.

Leo cuts in. "Oh, no! I was hoping Y/N and I could come out there and visit you guys for the week!"

Your head whips round. "You were?"

"Well, yeah." Leo rolls his eyes, faux exasperation. "I did tell you about it. I haven't been back to your house since the giant threw that boulder through your window." He rubs his finger along your scarred, damaged knuckles, forever torn from the boulder that destroyed all your nerve endings. "I think it would be a grand old time, personally."

"I agree," Emma chimes in. "And it would be less stressful for us - we can just wait here for them to arrive, and you still get to see Y/N!"

Mum hums, thoughtful, and for just a second, you're certain she's going to revert back to her old ways. She's going to call you scum, pretend you don't exist, make you feel like shit all over again; judging by the sudden grip Leo has on your hand, he thinks the exact same thing. You thought this was over with. You thought your Mum had gotten better, that she finally realised you are her child, too, and-

"I guess it would be a lot less hassle."

Leo exhales. "Great! It's a date."

"For you two, maybe," Emma grumbles. "Look, we have to leave in two minutes, so this is goodbye."

"Jeez, Em, tell us how you really feel."

"See you in a few weeks, assholes!" And before you or Leo can respond, the Iris message is flickering to a close, leaving you and Leo alone in Bunker 9.

It's silent for a few seconds. Leo grips your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles, and it suddenly feels so, so hard not to cry.

"She's getting so much better," you choke out.

Leo's head snaps round, eyes widening at the crack in your voice. "Hey, no. Don't you start crying on me, okay? This is a good thing! Good!" He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. He has that goofy look, his eyebrows stitched together, his lips pursed; it makes you laugh every time.

You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists just to keep the feel of him against you for a little longer. "I'm not going to cry. I'm not a bitch."

"It's all good here, Y/N," he says. "I always told you it's all good here."

And with his hands on your face, his eyes gazing into your own, the sweet weather of Camp Half-Blood flourishing outside, you know he's telling the truth. It's all good.

191 notes · View notes

breanime · 5 years ago

Note

I know your getting back together headcannon was a while ago, but I would die for one with Rio 😭 What did he do? How'd he get you back??

Boy, this got very long...

*gif not mine*

So Rio broke up with you

“I can’t have you fucking with my money,” he hissed at you

“All I did,” you argued back, “was try to help you make more money! How was I supposed to know it would end up like this?”

This, by the way, was a building engulfed in flames behind you

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need you!”

And that was that

His shit was cleared out of your place by the time you got back home

And you knew Rio, he was too pissed and too stubborn so...

...you moved on

It was hard, of course, but you refused to wallow

If Rio insisted on keeping you at arms’ length and not appreciating your efforts to help him

Then fine

You decided that you didn’t need him

(but you did)

and you decided that you didn’t love him anymore

(but you did)

And so when your sister said she wanted you to meet her new boss, you did

And when he asked you out, you said yes

He wasn’t necessarily your type

(read: he didn’t have a laugh that you could feel in your chest, he didn’t have long, nimble fingers that fascinated you, and he didn’t have a distinctive tattoo on his neck...)

But he was nice, and you had a good enough time with him

You were with him, your hand in his, when the two of you discovered his car in the parking garage of his building....

....smashed to hell

It looked like someone took a crow bar to it

And as he gaped and gasped, calling the police as he assessed the (significant) damage to his car

You sighed

This had Rio written all over it

So much so, in fact, that five days later, when two officers came to your apartment with a picture of Rio and a blurry video clip that looked like him casually strolling into the garage with a crow bar in his hands, you did what came naturally to you when it came to Rio...

... you lied

“Oh,” you laughed, “that’s just Christopher. He does odd jobs for me sometimes, in fact, he was there that morning because he was helping me fix something...”

“...at your boyfriend’s place of work?” Cop One asked drily

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you quipped back, “and yes. I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign to say that Christopher didn’t do this”

Cop One tried to poke more holes in your story, but Cop Two could tell that you weren’t budging

Before they left, Cop Two cleared her throat and turned to you

“Ma’mm, just... Whatever little love triangle the three of you got going on here, try to minimize the property damage, okay?”

And you couldn’t help but laugh

You called your not-boyfriend after they left and told him things weren’t going to work out between you two

And then you put on your shoes, grabbed your purse, and made the decision to go to Rio’s warehouse and tell him that you loved him

And that you never stopped loving him, because clearly, he hadn’t stopped loving you

But when you opened your door, Rio was waiting on the other side of it

“So I guess I was wrong,” he said casually, his dark eyes looking you up and down, “I do need you.”

He took a step towards you. “Why’d you tell the cops I was there for you? Why didn’t you rat?”

“How do you even know that?” You asked back

“Lady cop is on my payroll,” he answered easily, “She called me, told me how you gave me an alibi--even used my least threatening alias... Why?”

You frowned. “You know why.”

“Yeah...” He took another step, and now he was directly in front of you, his hand on your chin, lifting your face up so that he could look right in your eye. “...I know. But I want you to say it.”

“Because,” you said softly, “I still love you.”

Rio leaned down and kissed you then, and you knew that he would never leave you again

And you were right

He kept you at his side as his Queen, and anytime he needed an alibi--

--or a building set on fire--

--he looked to you

When You Break Up With Him

You were over it

You were over the long gaps of seeing Rio

You were over his vague excuses

You were over hearing “I had to handle some business”, “don’t worry about it”, “stay in your lane” come out of his mouth

You were over being treated like you were a child who couldn’t handle the reality of what Rio did for a living

You were over being in a relationship by yourself

So you packed your shit, tears in your eyes

The most communication you’d had with Rio that week had been a text that said: “I’ll be back when I finish here” followed by “so don’t worry about it”

And that had been it

You loved him, you loved him so much it hurt--

but you couldn’t keep doing this

You were almost done packing your clothes when you heard a creak in the floor, and you looked up to see Rio staring at you

He did that a lot--coming in quietly, his footsteps almost inaudible as he moved, but usually he scared you to make you laugh, kissing you as you whined about being startled

But now he was staring at you with wide, dark eyes

He had bruises on his face, and when you looked down, you saw his knuckles had scrapes on them, but otherwise, he looked fine

“What’re you doing?” He asked, his eyes going from the bags and boxes all over the room to you

“I...” You blinked back tears. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry about it.”

Rio was glaring now, and he walked over to you, his steps bringing him forward quickly, and put his hand on your neck

His grip was firm--not painful--the possessiveness clear in his touch

And in his eyes

“Oh, you think you’re cute?” He asked. “Try again.”

“I’m sick and tired of being alone,” you answered honestly, “and I’m sick and tired of you always blowing me off.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Yes it is!” You pushed at his chest, making him take a small step back. “You keep pushing me out, Rio, I can’t take it!”

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he argued, “I’m out here selling Monopoly money with suburban bitches, dodging the Feds, defending my territory--I gotta keep my personal life separated from that shit!”

“There’s a difference between keeping things separate and just abandoning me!” You moved past him, bumping your shoulder against him. “Look, you want to be able to ‘do what you do’,” you imitated him, “without having to answer to anyone--well now you can!”

“So you’re really gonna leave?” He asked, his hands in his pockets. You could see him building up his walls again. “You don’t like the way I treat you?”

You sighed. You didn’t want to argue with him. You wanted to stay with him, you really did, but you refused to live like this

It was a lose-lose situation

“I just have to go,” you said, your voice tired.

“Yeah...” He nodded, his eyes hard. “...Well,” he took his hands out of his pocket, shrugging. “Don’t let me stop you.”

And you didn’t

Rio watched you leave, his eyes on your back the entire time

You spent the night at your best friend’s house, crying in her guest room

She was gone when you woke up in the late afternoon, but she left you a spare key

You got up, showered, got dressed, cried some more, and then decided to go get something to eat

When you opened the door, Rio was on the other side

He looked like he hadn’t slept all night, his eyes red

“Rio,” you gasped out

“Get in the car,” he said back

You looked behind him to see a black car, and you raised an eyebrow

“Please,” he added

You did, and Rio drove you to the edge of town, to a storage unit that you had assumed was shut down

“I want to show you something,” he said as he opened your car door, “and after I show you, if you still want to leave...” He dipped his head down. “...I’ll let you go.”

You followed him to the last unit, both of you walking in complete silence

Rio turned to you, his hand on the lock, and looked you in the eyes

“You know I love you, right?”

You nodded. “I know.”

“And you know that... all of this... The way I’ve been treating you isn’t because I don’t trust you or because I don’t want to be honest with you...” He paused. “Nah, you don’t know that... But it’s true. I love you,” he said, “and I thought the way I was doing things was what was best for you, but... It’s not. I know that now.” He reached over and lifted your chin, his dark eyes on yours. “I want us to be partners--for real. So I’m gonna show you something, and you can do what you want with it, but... I need you to know that you’re the only person I trust.”

He opened up the unit, and your eyes widened

There were pallets of cash stacked up throughout the unit and a file cabinet off to the side

Rio walked over to the cabinet, opened up a drawer, and reached in

He held out a file to you, and you took it

It was full of information on a Federal Agent, and his face looked familiar

“Who’s Agent Turner?” You asked

“Agent who was investigating me,” Rio answered, “Remember when I was gone for those few months? Right before we got the new apartment?”

You nodded. Rio had given you some vague explanation about “business” and having to do some “side job” when you’d asked where he’d been

“I had him killed,” Rio explained, “In this cabinet is information on every agent, cop, lawyer, and judge I’ve ever had killed or intimidated. Nobody knows this unit exists except me...

...and you.”

You nodded, handing him the file back. You knew what this meant, what Rio was trying to tell you

“I need to be in on things,” you said, and Rio nodded, “I need to know what’s going on.”

“I can do that, mama.”

“I want to be a part of this,” you added.

Rio nodded again, licking his lips. “Okay. But you can’t just jump in,” he said, “you gotta do something for me first.”

“What?”

“Come back,” he answered, his eyes boring into yours, “Come back to me, baby.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you ran to his arms

Rio held you tightly, and you could feel how much he needed you in his touch

“I love you,” you said into his chest

“Love you too,” he kissed the top of your head, “Let’s go home.”

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

Thanks for reading! I’m adding my taglist because this got HELLA long

Everything Taglist: @encounterthepast @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @charlylama @realduckvader @whovianayesha @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @fanfictionrecommendations-com @maxslime-blog @songforhema @lucielandss @themadhatter92 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @ashkuuuu @luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @iaintnofurry @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19 @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @bitch-imma-head-out @witchygagirl @geeksareunique @sparrows-books @nyxxnoxx @justvnash @truly-insatiable

Rio Taglist: @gemini0410 @sweetybuzz25 @glimmerglittergirl @gensneverland @jamielennkeeler @angels-pie @hermionetriskatniss

#rio x reader #rio imagine #rio good girls #good girls rio

1K notes · View notes

lavenderek · 4 years ago

Note

Why were you disappointed by the Howl's Moving Castle movie? I think I read the book years ago, but I don't remember much about it

i'm gonna critique the gibbly movie and it's my understanding that it's a special movie for a lot of people so if that's you feel free to skip this one

so i was delighted and enchanted by the book, which has only twice to date not made the movie a devastating letdown, so my dear friend sending me this book was pretty much signing a contract in her own blood accepting that i would be cranky about the movie. i'm not really a ghibli person either, like i can appreciate the artistry and value in them, and i'll watch it if the people i'm with really need to watch princess mononoke or whatever, but i just don't go out of my way to watch them. (i like reading meta about spirited away, though.)

i did go out of my way to watch this one because i loved the book so much.

it's important to remember the culture in which the movie was made as opposed to the culture in which the book was made. howl is welsh, if that says anything to you. (his name is howell, and he adopted the name howl to run from himself and seem more magical. i love him and movie howl had none of those elements except for when he told us he was a coward and i was like. ok lol, i'll jot that down because i didn't see it in the text)

so i'm not necessarily surprised by the creative changes they made, but i am confused, because those changes drastically affect the characterization, the character motivations, and the pacing of the story.

(i also was only able to get my hands on the dub and i loathe and detest christian bale as howl lmfao but that's subjective)

so first of all, does movie sophie, like, want anything? she's flawless as a character. even though she has a completely different personality as an old lady than she does as a young lady, there's nothing wrong with her. everybody is fond of her, she's shy, she's gentle, she's beautiful, and she's kind, and her only motivation in the whole movie is this vague desire to cure the curse, but even then she doesn't work on it much at all. her life before howl is about being buffeted around like a leaf in the wind, and her life after howl is about being buffeted around like a cow in a twister. sophie in the movie is a blank slate. she is insecure about her looks (seriously, they couldn't even give her like a crooked nose or something, only doll-faced, thin, pale women over here), and her confessing this and crying about it for about four seconds was the first truly deep emotional response i had seen of her. i cried when she cried, who doesn't grapple with feelings of inadequacy? then the kid came out and she was like, okay, i'm done being upset now :)

second of all, howl is a little eccentric, but mostly he's just a glorious gentleman who has a messy room and one (1) overly dramatic depressive episode. it was disturbing to me as a viewer because it was violent and came out of nowhere, and it never comes back again lmao. it was so bizarre, he's introduced as this suave, debonair man in a cape, and he stays that way the entire movie, except for a weird moment in the middle where he screams at sophie naked and then lists the character flaws that we the viewers have never witnessed. why does he like sophie? why does sophie like him?

why did they turn michael into a child? i just don't see what that added to the story lmao. i get them taking out the complexity of secrets involving sophie's decidedly interchangeable sisters and their mystery beaus, it's a lot to fit into a little movie; but like, why did they turn him into a child though lmao

there's a lot of fatphobia in the movie too.

the change that upset me the most, though, was that the element of sophie having the ability to influence things without her knowledge was totally abandoned. like i said, things just sort of happen to her. in the book, her hats are the most lovely because she's inadvertently cast spells on them to make whoever wears them seem alluring or mysterious to people. the witch curses her because she recognizes these little spells and believes sophie's trying and failing to trick her (and also because sophie snaps at her lmao, why is movie sophie only an asshole when she's old? leave my daughter alone).

book sophie unknowingly protects howl by worrying over his cape (which she previously shredded because she got mad at him, i love her), she unknowingly enchants the scarecrow by helping it stand and complimenting it. she does that the entire book. she also starts the book already feeling sort of dull and trapped, and spends the story trying desperately to solve mysteries and protect loved ones. movie sophie doesn't like, sit around and knit demurely, don't get me wrong; but all the major plot points are things that howl makes happen to her lol.

i think the scarecrow is an excellent representation of book sophie's inner struggles. it's something she inadvertently enchanted, and she doesn't understand it, so she runs from it. she's terrified of the thing. in that way it kind of stands in for her own agency: only when she was forcibly in disguise did she feel free to find out what she wants her life to look like, and that kind of power is foreign and frightening to her. i loved that for her.

and very late in the book, howl reveals that he knew all along she was under a spell, that he tried to get rid of it out of curiosity (book howl doesn't seem to notice that he's just as imperious and nosy as sophie is), but she resisted it. he couldn't get the spell off. so he assumed she wanted to stay that way and let her be about it. so basically it's very huck finn on the raft, she realizes that in running to get away, she was already away. she had that agency all along.

all of that was missing from movie sophie. the idea of her inadvertently hanging on to the curse is still there, we see that she sort of fades back to her young self while she's asleep (not the case in the book, we know this because howl doesn't know what she looks like until she turns back in the end); but she doesn't seem to gain any knowledge about herself because of this. the only time she seems to have any personal drive, it's to learn about and help howl. her inner struggles are about howl. and i hated movie howl lmao, i hated his design and i hated his voice and i hated how like, patronizing he was to everyone around him. book howl was a condescending dick at times and just weird and distant at others, but he never came across like he was absolutely positive he was seducing sophie at any given moment. it was clear that he was the star of the movie and sophie was just the audience stand in to be like 🤩🥸🧐

the scarecrow who is a prince was the most hilariously egregious moment in the entire movie. in the book, the missing prince is introduced as a plot in the beginning and is referenced repeatedly throughout. and he's a major player in the climax. in the movie, it's the last like five minutes of the film and the scarecrow turns into a dapper boy with bread for hair and is like, "you've cured me! i'm a prince who went missing from a nearby kingdom and i was cursed but now i'm free." and i was like NICE, so we just found out there's a nearby kingdom that has a prince who's been missing. love that for us

the book had a lot of themes that i don't often encounter in fantasy novels - themes of female agency, of disguise, and of chaos. the chaos is my favorite part, every chapter is equally chaotic at various levels. you'll have michael fretting over some spell, sophie fretting over her own spell, howl trying to get someone in disguise to fall in love with him, THAT someone pining over michael, and all the while sophie and howl are bickering because she is cleaning (it seems like she cleans to clean up her mind) and he doesnt want her to (he is afraid of change and of reality), and he needs a huge favor of her, and she needs to wheedle out of it, and she promised calcifer she would free him, and calcifer is repeatedly promising to die of not being appreciated enough, and everybody is having three arguments at once. it's like that in every chapter, culminating in the moment howl and sophie realize they're in love, and they stand clasping hands and sort of smiling at each other in the middle of a room full of panicking and perplexed people just yelling over each other lmfao. surrounded by chaos and no longer thrown by it, rooted there in the middle of it, stabilizing each other in a way. i loved that. i actually flipped back a few pages so i could read that moment again.

and it seemed to me that the movie tried to imply that with visual chaos, but everything else was really quite linear and simple. everything was very airy. and since the conflama and the general atmosphere and character dynamics of the book is what made me fall in love with it, the movie didn't work for me.

tumblr user door pointed out that the book and the movie are extremely different and she appreciates them both as separate entities, and she's wise and correct; i knew this and i tried so hard to engage with the movie on its own terms. but i couldn't divorce them in my mind. i felt the same way about ella enchanted and practical magic. i cant stop thinking like, i wish they hadn't gotten rid of x, i wish they hadn't added this weird element of y.

also it was boring. i checked to see how much more was left three times. sorry. i can't express enough how little i cared about the plot with the witch and somebody's secretly evil boss and time traveling to yell at howl or something, because i didn't connect with the characters. and the feathers growing out of howl triggered my weird phobia about things being embedded in skin. i'm skeeved just remembering it.

anyway, yeah. the movie was beautifully animated and whatever atmosphere they were going for was pretty consistent throughout. oh and i LOVED calcifer. he was my favorite in both the book and the movie. in fact, he was the only character in the movie who they didn't really change, he was petty and bitchy in both versions. i loved him. he's like, "SHE FED ME SOMETHING YUCKY" my perfect, horrible boy.

oh and. book sophie was a redhead. that's all.

after i finished the book i tried to draw how imagined them:

couldn't finish it though, i wasn't super jazzed about how it was coming out.

she's sitting in like, a window well altering a coat of his without permission. and he's like, i guess i'll have to wear this one instead, and she's like, i guess you will

#haters #who is this even #long post #howell's mobile home #talking out of my ass

27 notes · View notes

btsqualityy · 4 years ago

Text

Second Pregnancy Series Q&A #2

Yoongi x Reader

Describe Kamryn, looks and personality wise.

“She looks a lot like Y/N, almost more than Kins does,” Yoongi smiled.

“Her personality is more like mines too, so she’s very sassy and opinionated and loud and very fiery,” you giggled.

Since Kam is a literal baby version of reader (physical and personality), what trait do you think she got from Yoongi?

“She definitely has Yoongi’s heart,” you said. “She’s very loving but just like Yoongi, she kind of has her own way of showing it.”

How was your first pregnancy different from your second?

“My pregnancy with Kam felt so much longer than my pregnancy with Kins did,” you groaned. “It literally felt like I was pregnant with Kam for forever, which is probably a result of her being almost a week overdue.”

Is Kamryn a daddy’s or mama’s girl?

“She’s definitely a daddy’s girl. She has Yoongi wrapped around her thumb too,” you snickered, making Yoongi groan loudly.

“She looks just like you and acts just like you so it’s physically impossible for me to tell her no because she always looks and acts so cute,” he pouted.

“You’re just weak, that’s what that is,” you laughed.

What was her first word?

“It was hell, but Yoongi himself is entirely to blame this time around,” you huffed.

“I was in the studio talking to Namjoon and I said ‘What the hell?’ in response to something that he told me, and Kam ended up repeating it,” Yoongi explained. “But in my defense, I thought she was asleep!”

Do they have any fixations or favorite things? Anything that they really hate?

“She loves her paci, just like Kins did,” you sighed. “We’ve been trying to wean it away from her now because we don’t want her to be three years old and struggle like Kins did but she’s winning that war, so far.”

What are the major differences between the first kid and the second kid? Any similarities?

“They are completely different kids,” Yoongi chuckled. “Whereas Kins is very quiet and laid back, Kam is loud and outgoing and very ‘in your face’“.

Was it a big contrast having Kam from when you had Kinsley?

“Yep, because they’re so different,” you nodded. “Our house was never loud with just Kins around but now that we have Kam, there’s always some type of noise happening because of her.”

Is there a habit or thing that Kam does that shows her sassiness at such an early age?

“It’s really just the way that she carries herself,” Yoongi smiled. “It seems crazy since she’s only one years old, but she’s so confident and sure of herself and she genuinely thinks that she can do anything, just like Y/N does.”

How long did it take for the kids to adjust to the new changes that came with their sibling?

“It took Kins a little bit longer than we anticipated it to,” you grimaced. “Kam wasn’t an easy baby and she cried a lot and that threw Kins off because Kins is a person who values her quiet, just like Yoongi does.”

“Baby girl definitely struggled with it at first but now that Kam has grown and can actually walk now, she feels a lot better about it and she loves playing with Kam,” Yoongi added.

Does Kam tend to be jealous with Kins? Like if Yoongi would carry Kins and Kam around, would she whine and try to get her sister off their dad?

“She’s very jealous,” Yoongi nodded. “Again, just like Y/N.”

“I am not jealous,” you scoffed, reaching over and hitting him in the shoulder.

“Whatever makes you feel better Min,” he smirked.

Does Kinsley have anything that she loves to do with Kamryn?

“She likes dancing with her, because Kam loves to dance these days so they’ll do that together,” you smiled.

How’s your sex life? Is it hard to find time to be intimate with 2 babies?

“I’d say that it’s the same,” you answered, looking over at Yoongi to see him nod in agreement.

“Can’t keep our hands off of each other, but that’s always,” he smirked. “It’s not necessarily harder though, we’ve just had to be a little more creative.”

What’s one thing about the second baby that’s surprised you most? Example- an experience that’s way different than with the first baby, or a way the two siblings are so similar, etc!

“I think Kam’s personality really surprised us,” you said. “Kinsley looks like me but she acts more like Yoongs so when Kam was born and I saw that she looked like me, I figured that her personality would probably be more like Yoongi’s too but it’s almost scary how similar she is to me.”

“Right and because of that, almost every experience that we had with Kam has been completely different from how it was with Kins,” Yoongi added. “For example, Kins barely cried as a baby if she wasn’t hungry or wet. Kam though, she would cry if you touched her too much so it was definitely an adjustment.”

How has your parenting style changed from when you had Kinsley to when you had Kamryn?

“I don’t think it really has changed,” Yoongi responded. “We still have the same fundamental beliefs that we did when we first had Kins and that means raising our girls to be whoever they want to be and supporting them in that the best that we can.”

What’s the most important thing you learned while raising Kinsley that you’re putting in place this time?

“Just remembering that our girls are kids and that our job is to help them grow into women that are comfortable enough to make their own decisions and find their own identities, and to not make those decisions for them or make them feel like they have to be a certain way,” you said.

Anything you did or would do differently this second time around?

“I definitely would’ve gotten an epidural when I was in labor with Kam,” you stated firmly. “I genuinely felt like I was dying.”

Do you two want more kids? If so, any specific number?

“Do you?” You asked Yoongi, who turned to look at you with a small smile on his face.

“You know I do,” he told you, reaching over and grabbing your hand in his. “I’d love more babies with you, if that were to happen. Give me another daughter that looks just like you.”

“Or maybe finally a son,” you suggested. “Who looks like you.”

“To answer your question, we’re obviously not opposed to the idea but we’re not actively trying,” Yoongi surmised. “At least, not yet.”

Hopes for the future?

“Just for Y/N and the girls to be happy and healthy,” Yoongi said.

“Agreed, as well as for our family to continue to thrive and for mine and Yoongi’s relationship to grow stronger as time goes on,” you added.

“You don’t have to worry about that part Min,” Yoongi assured you. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smiled, leaning over and pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

234 notes · View notes

nikkzwrites · 3 years ago

Text

(They Long to Be) Close to You | Dark Fix-It Fic Series Part 2 | Chapter 7

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah. This is part two of the series! You can start the full series here!

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: ~5.0k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Jonas cried over Martha’s body promising that he would set everything right. He looked up hearing the explosion and then ran down into the basement to stay safe.

The older Jonas shot up in bed breathing hard from his nightmare. He must have fallen asleep in his clothes. He turned to look at the letter labeled Jonas on it. He opened it to read,

‘Dear Jonas, you promised to make everything right again. I want you to know that you will do that. You must never lose hope that there is a way out of this maze. A way to save me and you...But we will have to make sacrifices… do unimaginable things...to untie the knot at the end. Each fate in this knot is linked to the next. A thread, blood red, that connects all our actions. In light and in shadow. But the apocalypse must take place. You must let her die, so I can live. We have to let some things go before they find their way back to us. We are perfect for eachother. Never believe anything else.’

Martha cried over Jonas’ dead body clutching Annalise’s necklace in her bloodied hands. She stood and walked away from him still shaking from the shock she just received. Annalise walked out from the door and ran to Martha. She held the girl close in her arms and started to cry for her. Her fingers intertwined within Martha’s hair. Yet, Martha felt close to nothing. This is what she had always wanted, so why does it still feel wrong.

The short haired Martha looked up at the swirling God Particle in their world knowing what must be done now. Her two older selves watched it twist and turn just like their hearts. Their eyes crying from the knowledge each of them had. Mary smiled proudly at her work. She had spent years getting back to this point. Yet, her eyes still cried knowing just as soon as she was going to experience the greatest ecstasy, she was going to experience the pits of despair. Unknowing of her own fate that was just close to happening.

Silija took her rifle and shoved Martha into a cage. She locked the girl in, ignoring her cries of confusion. Adam watched on with a sigh.

The older Jonas took the letter and burned it after reading. He felt disgusted at what she was trying to imply, let Annalise die so that Martha could live as if he could possibly do that. As if he could let that happen.

Annalise and Martha walked back to Martha’s home. It was the day of the apocalypse. As they got inside, Martha started to panic about how dirty and covered with his blood she was.

Annalise took hold of her and said, “Hey, hey… shhhh… It’s okay.” She carefully walked the girl to the sink and washed her up. Her hands were gentle, yet dexterous at getting off the blood. After cleaning her hands and face, Annalise heard someone stirring upstairs so she quickly helped Martha undress and shoved the blooded clothes in the trash.

Magnus hurried downstairs after hearing the door open and close. “Martha,” he breathed relieved at his sister being back home safe. He looked between Annalise and Martha asking, “Where were you? Mom cried all night long.” Noticing that Martha wasn’t her normal self, he turned to Annalise and asked, “Is she okay?”

Annalise shook her head as Martha tried to wipe her tears away. She turned to look at her brother.

“Hey,” He spoke softly. He opened his arms to her which were gladly taken by Martha. He held his sister and asked, “What happened?”

Martha sobbed into Magnus for a second. She held him tighter than she had ever held her brother before. “Bartosz was right,” she whispered. She shook her head and said, “What he said in the woods… about the end of the world.” She started to panic. “The nuclear power plant… Today. Bartosz’s father is trying to cover up an accident. The containers… The world is going to end today.”

Magnus looked at her then to Annalise, who just shrugged and shook her head acting as if she didn’t know anything…

While in truth, she did. Annalise knew exactly what Martha was talking about and it was her job to also get to Bartosz so that way they could all go fix this mess. At least, that’s what Eve told her and her older self told her. There was no reason not to trust them.

Meanwhile in 1986, a younger Mary smiled with a young Noah. She turned to him and said, “We did it! We found the way back! We can get Bartosz and go back home.”

Magnus shook her head at her, “Have you gone crazy? When did you last sleep?” When she tried to yell at him, he shook his head and said, “I haven’t got time for your psycho crap. You can handle this, right Anna?”

Annalise nodded. She shook her head at Martha, “I’m sorry.”

Short haired Martha looked down at Annalise’s necklace and started to cry. She trembled as her fingers traced the tree of life pattern.

“They had to die,” The older Martha explained, “It’s all wrong.” They stood in the old Eris Lux meeting area. “I know what you’re feeling. But you’ll learn to let the feeling go. Everything will run its course. Just as fate determined our world and his.”

In the other world, Martha tried to escape her cage. When Adam appeared to her, she screamed, “why did you lock me up? You promised me there would be a way to change everything.” She started to cry, “So the apocalypse won’t happen. You lied to me, just like my older self lied to me!”

Adam looked down at the sphere in his hands. He spoke, “Sic Mundus. Old Tannhaus. He firmly believed he was creating a paradise where we’d all be free of destiny, and free of our pain. A world outside your world and my world. But I have finally realized what this paradise really is. Unending darkness, in which nothing exists. But for that...the apocalypse must happen. In my world...and in yours.” He turned and walked away from her.

“Jonas,” she roared, “Jonas! Let me out!”

There was only six hours before the apocalypse left and Aleksander was speaking to Obendorf about the containers. He had seen Annalise leave earlier that morning so he knew it would be safe to speak about it.

“Dad,” Bartosz said, walking into the room and surprising Aleksander, “Is everything okay?”

Aleksander nodded, but sadly said, “I know I said I’d stay home today...But something important came up. I’m sorry.”

Bartosz shrugged and grumbled to his dad, “It’s alright”

His father turned and said, “I have to tell you something. Someone is blackmailing me.”

Bartosz’s face turned into confusion, “What?”

Aleksander turned and showed his son, “With this. Something that happened a long time ago. Sometimes we make decisions in our lives that we can never undo.” He sighed and continued, “My name is not Aleksander. It is Boris. Boris Niewald. But it was an accident… You must believe me. I’m not a murderer.”

Bartosz shook his head and asked, “What about Mom? Did Mom know about this?”

“Your mother is the best thing that ever happened in my life,” said the man, “she saved me from all that and I never told her the truth.” He looked at his son, “Bartosz, I’m sorry.”

Bartosz threw the newspaper down and walked away from his father.

Across town, Charlotte walked to Ulrich’s house with the file to let him know what they found on the investigation for Mads resulting in Ulrich leaving quickly and Hannah realizing it was her the entire time.

Annalise sat with Matha. She tried to convince the girl to take a nap, but Martha felt too wired for that.

The girl walked over to her mirror to look at herself. “I hate this,” she sneered at herself. She grabbed the scissors from her things and started to cut.

“Hey,” Annalise said. She walked over to the girl and stopped her, “Let me do that for you. You are going to mess it up.”

“I don’t care,” Martha mumbled, but conceded giving the scissors to Annalise anyway.

Annalise smiled and giggled, “Come on. Let’s cut off all the things weighing you down.”

Martha watched as everything happened through the mirror. She just wanted everything fixed and over with.

Katharina slept on Mikkel’s bed calmly. She awoke to Martha standing over her, “You scared me. Where were you? Did you cut your hair? What happened?” She looked over towards Annalise who stood awkwardly behind her daughter. She looked back to see Martha nearly in tears.

Martha spoke, “Do you believe in fate?”

“I don’t know,” Katharina admitted watching Annalise walk out to give them some space. She spoke again, “No. I believe that we take our lives into our own hands. That we decide which road we take.”

Eve stared at the older Bartosz with a sigh. She spoke to him motioning towards the hideout and to his child Jonah. Her heart sunk, but she knew this was what was needing to happen. Everything was so so close. She needed everything to continue just as it had before. She knew what this would cause though. She knew what this part would lead. She needed it to happen. This was one of the finally domino effects needed for her plan to see him again.

Katharina shook her head and said, “I’m sure I’m the last person you want to talk to, but...If you do...I’m here.” She took her daughter's hand and held it. The woman spoke again, “Your dad and I… A lot of things maybe different now, but that’s not necessarily bad.”

Martha started to cry. She shook her head and said, “No, I’m sure it’s not.” She held her mother closely. She let go after a moment and explained, “I promised I was going to do something.” Then she walked out.

In the other world, Claudia stared at a picture of the blond boy who had started this all. Her breathing was all that could be heard in the small bunker. She sighed and looked down to open one of the journals letting her know what she was supposed to do as well. It spelled out where the God Particle was and to follow the signals to it. She found herself going to the area in her yellow radiation suit. Inside, she saw only a bright white light. Her heart pounded as she reached out to it.

“Stop,” A man called to her. Claudia turned to see Jonas.

She sighed in relief and said, “Jonas…” She looked surprised. Her voice shook as she spoke again, “You’re alive.”

Back in Eve’s world, the short haired, scarred Martha wrote Jonas a letter. She knew all of it to be absolutely true. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was doing all of this for her own Annalise as well. Something for them to be together just as Mary and Eve were. To raise this child together. She sighed and spoke, “I murdered him. Why is he still alive?”

Mary drew a diagram for the young Martha, “There is a switch point in the loop of time. The moment that causes things to run in one direction or the other. You bring him into your world, or you don’t. A line that starts at one point, then loops onto itself once more. Two possible ways on the outer edge of the line or on the inner edge of the line… yet it is the same line. Two overlapping realities happen in a single moment.” She spoke quieter, more in reflection, “In one, she goes with you… in another she’s kidnapped and trapped until she figures out the puzzle of this.” She shook her head and spoke louder again, “One, he dies...on the other road, he doesn’t.” She pointed and said, “Both realities continue from the point of the sphere’s activation, then collide on itself if it’s in the same reality. Both of your worlds continue from that point and repeat in an endless loop. One triggers the other one to happen. You two are locked in Quantum entanglement.”

Eve interrupted and spoke, “Adam has tried to sever it for 33 years. So that the thing growing inside of you will never be born.”

Mary spoke up again, “But it is impossible now. Your worlds… they can never be disconnected.”

The older Martha took the letter and folded it up to be put into the envelope as Ever spoke, “Every step Jonas takes is guided by us. He cannot escape his fate.”

In Jonas’ world, Claudia stared at the blond and asked, “What is this?”

Jonas spoke while looking at the glowing white orb flowing suspended in the air, “That is what was left over after the catastrophe.”

Claudia breathed heavily and asked, “The God Particle… and this here? What is this?” She pointed to the equipment not too far from them.

Jonas looked at her confused and explained, “I’ve seen where all this goes.” He pointed towards the equipment, “in the future. There is no way back now. The cave was destroyed. There’s nothing there anymore. The passage is completely gone. But this here… If I find out how it works, I’ll be able to go back. Then I can save them. Martha, Mikkel, and Annalise. I can save all of them.” He stared at her. She seemed off. She didn’t seem to support any of this. He spoke to her and asked, “How is it that you found me?” He waited for a moment then asked in a slightly different way, “How did you know I would be here?”

“The apparatus,” Claudia explained, “The matter it needs.”

“The apparatus,” Jonas yelled, “You still have it?! Where is it?”

Claudia reluctantly showed him to where she was keeping the machine. She knew if she didn’t he would only become more aggressive. She watched as he rushed towards it. As he toggled with some of the switches, she spoke, “It doesn’t work. Maybe this is how it had to happen first. For all the things to change for next time.” As he slowly turned towards her, she explained, “The substance in the device. You and I brought it into the passage again. The variables in the equation were changed. There’s a chance it might work next try.”

Jonas yelled, “I can’t wait 33 years to try!” He growled as he walked towards her, “I’m supposed to just hope this won’t happen again? Maybe next time I’m on the other side of the bunker door?!” He sneered, “She didn’t say anything… Your older self. She knew Annalise was going to die. That Martha was also going to die. How they would die.” Tears dripped down his dirty sweaty face, “Why should I trust you now?”

Claudia felt a pain in her chest hearing about Annalise. Yet she pressed on, “The material in the plant. I know what it is. I can assist you. I can help you save them. To save all of them.”

In Eve’s world, there was only three hours left before the apocalypse. Martha stormed to Bartosz’s house with Annalise behind her. She screamed, “BARTOSZ!”

He very quickly went to the glass door as if by instinct. He opened it for her and asked, “Martha?” He looked at her then saw Annalise not far behind her. He bit his lip hoping this wasn’t going to affect them then turned back towards Martha to listen to what she had to say.

“Can we come in,” the short haired girl asked him. She stared up at him pleadingly. It was the least he could do now right? After stealing the girl she loved, the least he could do was let her inside.

“Eh,” Bartosz shifted uneasily. He swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. Come on in.” He moved out of the way for the two girls to rush in.

Martha shakingly explained, “33 years ago there was an accident at the plant. Somehow the accident caused some strange matter to form… and your father helped cover everything up.” She started to breathe heavily. Her eyes flickered between Annalise and him, “And everything we heard in the caves. It’s all the same… The substance… It starts the end. Today. We have to talk to him.”

“Starts what end,” Bartosz spoke calmly.

Martha’s voice shook as she said, “The apocalypse.”

Ulrich stared at Mads body in disbelief. There was no way any of this was happening. He’s heart raced as he realized it had to be. He unlocked the jail cell and stared at Helge. He lifted him up and asked, “The Kid in the bunker. You said it was you who killed him. But you didn’t mean him. You meant Mads. The boy in the bunker looks just like Mads. How did you do it?”

Helge shook and said, “They...They both said that I must do it.”

Ulrich growled, “Who? Do what?”

Helge swallowed and explained, “To help send him to the future. To fill the gaps.”

Ulrich let go of him and took a step back in disbelief. He took the pennies out of his pocket and showed it to the man, “The pennies… What does this mean?”

Helge looked up and said, “I must stop him.”

“Stop who? Who will you stop?”

Helge swallowed and spoke softly, “You.”

Ulrich pulled back and looked down before looking out the door. He said, “You can go now.”

Helge hurried out to go on his own mission to stop the man.

“And this Jonas guy,” Bartosz asked, “He’s dead now? And you killed him there. Well it’s not you… It’s...another you?” He looked at her completely confused. This sounded a lot like how Annalise was trying to describe being in two places at once just the other night. He ran his fingers through his long hair thinking about everything.

Martha nodded and explained, “I was there. In the future. There’s nothing left.” She shook her head. “Nothing.” She sighed and stated, “It all has to do with your father. He can’t be allowed to open those containers.” Watching his thumbs rub together and him look down then back at Annalise, Martha knew he was deep in thought. “Bartosz,” she tried to reach out to his mind to pull him back to her. She pleaded with him, “Please.”

Bartosz reached for his phone and called his father. He didn’t get an answer due to his father looking at all of the sins of his past and what they lead to. Aleksander called Charlotte now knowing what he must do to make amends.

The Unknown looked up at the sphere. He turned it on and watched it descend. The youngest walked in first, then the oldest. The middle one took out the ball and held it in his hand.

In Adam’s world, Silja let Martha out of her cage and at gunpoint led her to where Adam wanted her to go. She explained that all she was here to do was to help fill the gaps for everyone so that everyone could reach salvation.

Adam stared at the swirling mass. He spoke to himself mostly but turned to see the ghost of Annalise standing there with him, “We have waited a long time for this moment.” He turned towards Magnus and Franziska and told them, “you know what to do.” He nodded to them to leave him alone with the ghost of the girl he loved.

Magnus and Franziska swallowed. They shifted and took hold of each other’s hands not sure if they were really ready for the other world yet and to see their long dead best friends.

In Eve’s world, Magnus and Franziska sat at the edge of the pond unknowing of the apocalypse about to hit them in just one hour.

Franziska turned to him and signed, “What do you think it means? The birds? The light? The boy in the bunker?”

Magnus shrugged a bit then signed back while mouthing, “Martha has lost it. She thinks the apocalypse will happen today.”

Franziska shook her head at him. She could tell without words that he was nervous. She smiled a bit to comfort him and slid her hand into his. She signed to him and mouthed, “If we die today, then at least we are together.”

Magnus smiled and signed back, “Together.” He leaned close to her so that they could kiss all his troubles away.

Bartosz and Annalise rode their bikes down to the powerplant. Martha sat behind Bartosz looking up at the boy. They tried to ride as quickly as possible to stop the canisters from being opened by Charlotte and Aleksander.

Helge waddled through the woods muttering to himself the sounds of the clock in his mind. He walked toward the cave knowing exactly what he was going to try to do.

Ulrich called Charlotte trying to get a hold of her to let him know of what was going on as he tried to follow the man.

Adam’s world Magnus and Franziska stood in the road and stared at the group on the bikes. Bartosz and Martha stopped smoothly while Annalise crashed Martha’s bike trying to avoid them.

Martha stood up and walked towards them, “Who are you?”

Magnus chuckled, “You can’t take a few guesses?”

Annalise groaned on the ground causing Bartosz to run towards her side, “Anna!” He looked over her and caressed her face, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Where does it hurt?”

Annalise reached her hand down towards her side. She groaned as he touched it, “Ow...Ow. Ow.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Mary screamed as she walked into her family’s part of the hideout. There her older Bartosz, her husband, held their dead baby in his arms crying. He looked at her pleadingly, “Please, Annalise. Forgive me.”

Mary screamed at him, “What did you do?!”

“I had no other choice, Annalise please.”

Martha stared at the man and whispered, “Magnus?” She gasped as he stared at him, “You’re from the future.”

Magnus nodded, “But not from yours. They lied to you. Your older selves. They want the apocalypse to happen. They’re the ones responsible for it happening in the first place. But there is a way to change everything.”

Annalise struggled out, “Liar! You’re just working for Adam.”

Bartosz cooed at her, “Shhhhh. Anna… Please. You’re hurt. You are only going to keep hurting yourself. Shhhh.”

The older Bartosz looked sadly at his wife, “Please don’t look at me like that. She said I had to or else he’d die anyway.”

Mary rushed at him and started to hit him, “Liar! She would never do this to me.. MARTHA WOULD NEVER!” She stole her dead Jonah from him. She cried over his small body.

Franziska looked from the couple on the side of the road then looked at Martha and said, “But you have to choose our world and trust in him. Jonas.”

Bartosz started to question them as well. Annalise could see it on his face as Martha asked, “Jonas? He’s alive?”

“In our world,” Franziska nodded, “And he knows what the origin is.”

Mary trembled as she realized, no. Eve could, and Eve would. She started to realize everything was just Eve’s fault. She had been using her just as she used Jonas, but to what end. Mary sneered at him and said, “Of course in the end you would choose her. I hope you rot in the hell you both made.” She walked away from him to go to Eve’s office.

Franziska continued, “But before that, you must save Jonas from the apocalypse in his world and bring him into your world.”

Bartosz stood up and growled, “All of you are crazy, you know that?!”

Magnus stepped towards the girl and said, “You can’t stop what’s happening now, but...if you come with us, you can prevent it. Another time.” He took out the orb and held it towards Martha.

Bartosz helped Annalise up and asked, “What is that?”

Martha stared into her other worldly brother’s eyes. She panted as she tried to figure out what to do. What was the best step. Who should she trust? What should she do?

Bartosz’s voice cut through the noise in Martha’s head, “Martha what’s going on here?”

Martha walked towards them and turned towards her two closest friends, “you have to come with us.”

“Come with you where,” Bartosz asked.

Franziska spoke up as Magnus got the orb ready, “They aren’t one of us. They work for the others. She will save them.” Franziska nodded towards Annalise.

Martha looked between the two groups unsure of who to go with or who to trust. She looked at her friends and whispered, “I’m sorry.” She disappeared in a cloud of ashes and ember.

“It’s time,” Eve spoke to her group, “Adam has moved each of his tokens into position. It is time that we do the same.”

Mary burst into the room angry with her Bartosz trailing behind her, “You MONSTER! You LIED TO ME.” She growled and launched herself at Eve.

Eve laughed as everyone else left the room to leave them alone. She shook her head, “I did no such thing. This was all just a test for you, don’t you see that?”

Mary screamed, “You killed my son!? After everything I had done for you! I made your damn machine for you! I traumatised myself for you. I worked years and years for you. Blindly trusting you. You separated me from Bartosz for years to motivate me to make the machine work! I helped convince someone I was an angel with the son you had my husband have after me so that we could have your dad’s brother killed! Who even does that?! Why me?!”

Eve sighed, again, she chose Jonas in the end just like every cycle. Annalise chose Bartosz. As her heart slowly broke, she spoke, “I am so sorry you see it that way, but I want to hear it from you. Say what you are truly feeling deep inside your heart. Tell me.”

The younger Eve took over speaking to the rest of the group, “This knot has given us all life and we are its keepers. In both worlds. He’ll never be able to untie this knot. In all these years, he’s never understood how everything is connected. How it all ends and begins. Not only in our world, but in his as well. We are destiny. We raise the walls of this labyrinth. Each of us shapes the paths and extend their hand. Bartosz, you must help save yourself and Annalise to save our lives. Claudia, you must guide yourself to be our eyes in the other world. Egon, you must create your past to preserve the family tree. Noah, you must bring love and friendship... To start everything anew. Every darkness is followed by light. With every death comes life.” The younger Eve opened the portal for them.

In Adam’s world, Martha pleaded with the scarred man, “You brought me into your world. You promised me we could change this. Why are you doing this?” She struggled against her chains crying. She sobbed and asked him, “Where are the others? Where did you send them?”

Adam’s raspy voice grated in the air, “They are all fulfilling their destinies. Magnus and Franziska. Charlotte and Elisabeth. Silja and Agnes. They’re sustaining the cycle’s life. So that you and I exist here, now.”

“What are you saying,” She shook her head in confusion.

Adam looked at the ghost of Annalise dancing around them and looked back at her, “This is the end we’ve reached. What’s growing inside you, the origin, must die. But it can’t be killed by normal means. It’s born of both worlds and so the energy of both worlds is necessary to destory it. The apocalypse in my world...and the apocalypse in your world. This here is the end. A machine that crosses not only time, but space as well. Which then focuses the energy of both apocalypses on one concentrated point. This spot. Your son only exists because the matter exists. Now, through it, he will die, and all of us with him. None of this will exist anymore. Both worlds will erase one another. Absolute annihilation.”

Martha shook her head. She looked at him with sorrow for him, “You’ve gone insane.”

Adam slowly walked towards her, “There is no hope. No salvation. No paradise.” He took Annalise’s necklace from her, “We were wrong. You and I. In your world, and in mine.” He walked away from her.

“Jonas,” She called out to him, “JONAS! Jonas, please don’t do it. Jonas.”

Adam closed the door to prevent him from still hearing her call his old name. A name he had not associated with himself in a long time. A name when he was still Annalise’s. As she cried, he sighed knowing what he had to do. He turned it on and watched her struggle.

The beginning is the end and the end is the beginning. Every connection in one world must also be closed in the other world. Everything is interconnected. In the light and in shadow.

Slowly, all of Eve’s foot soldiers reached where they were to go. Older Noah to Sylvie and Elizabeth, Helge and Egon back to the past, Claudia to her other self, and Older Bartosz to Annalise and his younger self. Ulrich going into the past to stop Mads from dying. Older Jonas creating the machine while young Eve went to place the note. The Unknown going to help create the end.

Mary screamed, “ADAM WAS RIGHT. There is no salvation! You are the monster and this should end. All of this should end. There is no paradise! There is only pain!”

Just as a gunshot rang out deep in the cavern walls, The Unknown all yelled out desperately, “MOM!”

#(they long to be) close to you fanfic #yesterday once more fanfic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark (netflix)#close to you fanfic

6 notes · View notes

nad-zeta · 4 years ago

Note

I saw your post about the IkeSen lords and their NoMo MC and thought it was beautifully done! But it got me thinking... What if the lords' mc COULDN'T have kids, not necessarily that she didn't want them. How do you think Hideyoshi, Ieyasu and Masamune would react? Or even Sasuke, Yukimura and Shingen (or any three Lord combo you want... I'm curious about all all of them.)

Hi, hi, dear. ❤🌻🥰Thank you so much for the request love! 🦊Awww, thank you so much for the kind words, dear!❤❤❤❤😳 Hehe, so I didn’t add Sasuke and Yuki cause I was lazy, hope that is okay❤🌻🦋! Anyways so, this one really hit close to home!🙈😱 So I hope I did this justice! I hope you have a super good day and I hope you are keeping safe! ❤❤🌻🦋

Headcanon: MC that can’t have children feat: Hideyoshi, Ieyasu, Masamune and Shingen

Ieyasu

The two of you had been married for quite some time now

And naturally, you started trying for children to expand your little porcupine army ^̮^

It had been a few years of trying yet still nothing ≧☉_☉≦

Ieyasu had given both of you, various concoctions of herb mixes to aid in fertility and the two of you practically tried every wives tale in the book, from honey and cinnamon drinks to acupuncture

Yet still nothing (¬_¬)

You decided to go and speak to one of the midwives while Ieyasu was away to war

She did a quick evaluation and after some time she looked you in the eyes, sad look crossing her face ⚆ _ ⚆

She didn’t have to say anything for you to know that you couldn’t have children ಥ ͜ʖಥ

You offered her a smile and thanked her for the evaluation

However, the second she left you crumpled to the floor and cried

‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Ieyasu came back early that night and was greeted by the sight of you curled up in a ball sobbing ๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐

He was by your side in a matter of seconds picking your up and cradling you in his arms, as he moved you to sit in his lap

His heart broke as you refused to look him in the eyes

All sorts of things had been going through your mind when the midwife left, like would he take up another wife at the news, would he leave you

Long fingers gently wiped away your tears and made their way to hook under your chin so that you were now looking at him ༼☯﹏☯༽

“Tell me what happened, did that stupid Mitsunari make you some horrible tea and force you to drink it.” (◕⍸ ◕✿)

You chuckled through the sobs as he tried to lighten the mood with a joke

His fingertips danced across your cheek as he lovingly caressed your face while wiping away every tear that fell ( ‘́⌣’̀)/(˘̩̩ε˘̩ƪ)

Finally, through hiccuped sobs, you managed to get out what the midwife had told you

He couldn’t help but shed a tear of his own at how heartbroken you were at the news (╥_╥)

He simply wrapped you in his arms and tucked your head so that it was now comfortably resting in the crook of his neck. He gently rubs small circles on your back as you spent the night crying in his arms

He kissed your nose and your cheek, “It’s alright silly girl, there is more than one way to start a family. It’s not your fault so don’t stress about it.” He tried his best to reassure you knowing that you were beating yourself up (｡◕‿◕｡)

He smiled kissing your forehead, “Besides we already do have a baby we are looking after, I’m pretty sure Mitsunari would die without our care, especially during times when Hideyoshi goes to war.”(｡◕‿◕｡)

At the end of the day, the two of you did have children, albeit not your biological children.

You adopted two wonderful little boys who were sent to the Oda clan as hostages after their parents died.

The second, you saw the look on Ieyasu face when he saw the two little scamps you knew that he wanted to rescue them so that they didn’t suffer the same fate he had as a child.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Masamune

Masamune already knew you couldn’t have children

Or rather he suspected

Every time the two of you would do the deed, you would always joke about, him not having to worry about you getting pregnant (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

He never thought much of it, shrugging it off thinking you had some fancy futuristic contraception

The two of you never really sat down and had a conversation about it

Although the more serious Masamune Date got about you, the more you dreaded having to have that convo with the man ಠ╭╮ಠ

After all, he was the leader of his clan and as wife to the future leader certain duties and expectations had to be met

Well not that you were at that point yet, or so you thought

Unbeknown to you Masamune had gone behind your back and consulted with your enemy ninja fiend and his fellow warlords to plan the perfect evening to propose to you (✿◠‿◠)

Masamune knew you were the perfect woman for him, and tbh after having met you, you were the only woman he could ever look at

You taught him how to love and healed him from all his traumas and for that, he will be eternally grateful (◕‿◕✿)

He knew you were never one for grand gestures so he decided to keep it small, besides this way the proposal would genuinely be a surprise

He cooked the two of you dinner like any other night

After dinner, you made your way outside together to sit and have a nightcap under the stars

That's when he pulled out a ring and proposed ( ° ᴗ°)~ð (/❛o❛\)

You were so happy you could cry, yet the tears you shed weren’t from happiness ಥʖ̯ಥ

“Masamune I have to tell you something?” you said in a rather serious tone

He froze up thinking you were going to tell him you didn’t love him, that his feelings had been one-sided, he swallowed the lump in his throat as he spoke, “What is it kitten, don’t tell me you’re afraid of commitment”

You shook your head tears still falling, “Remember all those jokes I made about not having to worry about getting pregnant, well those weren’t jokes, I really can’t.” （>﹏<）

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, as he was faced with a decision between happiness and duty

He made up his mind and looked you square in the eyes, “And the problem is what exactly kitten, I love you and you love me right, so say yes” he gave you the broadest smile (˶◕‿◕˶✿)

You couldn’t help but jump into his arms in a tight embrace showering his face in small kisses

In truth, you had received a proposal once before, years ago yet, that man was not able to accept you as you were. Looking back you were thankful he had rejected you, as it had led you onto the path of true love and happiness

Masamune did eventually get a son and a successor, as the two of you had come across a poor orphaned boy barely surviving on the streets and decided to take him in and raise him as your own. | (• ◡•)| (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

Shingen

You and Shingen had been married for quite some time now

He was still busy recovering from his lung disease and it was time for the two of you to go back to the future with Sasuke to get him checked out and restock up on meds

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you, would go back to the future every five years or so just to check up on his lungs, to make sure everything was still good (¬‿¬)

While Shingen was at the doctors, you decided to go to your gynaecologist to check up on your lady bits (¬‿¬)(¬‿¬)

Usually, the two of you would chill in the future for a few months until the next wormhole opened up, which suited you perfectly as it gave you an opportunity to catch up with your family (◕‿◕✿)

One day while you and Shingen were chilling on the couch the gyno called and asked you to come in so she could discuss your results

Shingen looked over at you, “Is everything alright, my goddess.” (◕‸ ◕✿)

You wore a concerned expression as you put down the phone, “I’m not sure, she asked me to come and see her as soon as possible.” (◕__◕✿)

The next day you and Shingen were sitting in the consultation room as the gynaecologist broke the news to you, that you had cervical cancer

Shingen grabbed your shaking hands and squeezed it.

As the doctor explained your options, Shingen helped keep you calm by rubbing soothing circle on the back of your hand (〃‿〃✿)

The two of you decided to start the treatment immediately as that was the best way to ensure that both of you would be in tip top shape to return to the past

To be honest when the doctor broke the news that after the procedure, you would never be able to have biological children of your own, your heart broke ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

You and Shingen had finally decided to try for children and now that dream seemed to be coming to a crashing end (つ﹏⊂)

Shingen was there for you every step of the way, just as you were for him when he was sick and in the hospital (づ￣ ³￣)づ

The two of you went through the list of options in terms of children, and being in the future, there were quite a few options

The two of you finally settled on adoption and quickly approached an agency to fast track it before you had to return back home ~(˘▾˘~)

The two of you landed up adopting four children at once.

They had been in the system for so long, as they came as a package deal. Neither of them wanting to be separated from the others

Shingen smiled as the social worker warned him about the 13-year-old’s tendency to run away.┗(＾0＾)┓

The two of you returned back to the past with your four children. You had gone from an empty nest to a full house in less than a year

You were slightly worried about the children having to adapt to a new life in the past, but those worries were for nothing as they were absolutely thriving ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

Even the angsty 13-year old that was rumoured to have run away from his last 10 homes loved every bit of the past

He especially had taken a liking to Yukimura who would train with him

Finally, the four children who had never known love their whole entire lives were now surrounded by it from all sides

Hideyoshi

Oh you had loved your doting husband to bits ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )

He was everything you could have ever asked for in a potential partner, kind, loving, caring, need I go on \ (•◡•) /

Hideyoshi had found out very early on that you were unable to have children

In fact, you had actually confided in him way back when he had still sister zoned you ◉_◉

He never judged you for it and honestly never cared whether you could have children or not, all he knew was that he loved you ♥‿♥

He often jokes that the two of you couldn’t possibly raise a child as you already had your hands full with the warlords (｡◕‿‿◕｡)

If the two of you weren’t controlling Nobunaga’s candy binges, you were caring for Mitsunari, heck the two of you even had to break up small fights between bickering warlords

Although all that changed one day when there was a knock on your door in the middle of the night (；一_一)

Naturally, you kicked Hideyoshi out of bed to investigate, as you were to comfortable in the warm cocoon of your bed (｡v_v｡)

Hideyoshi kissed the top of your head as he got up to investigate.

As he approached the door, he wondered who dare would wake them up so late into the evening ¬_¬

He was already cursing under his breath thinking he might find an injured Mitsuhide on his doorstep in need of medical assistance.

He opened the door and peered into the darkness, no one was there. He frowned thinking it might have been some children pulling a prank ب_ب

Just as he was closing the door, he heard a small sneeze, he looked down to the find out the source of the sound was a baby, that couldn’t have even been more than a few hours old ≧☉_☉≦

He gently picked up the tiny thing and cradled it in his arm.

He could feel his blood boiling as he felt how cold the little baby’s hand were

(╯=▃=)╯︵┻━┻

He rushed to get a soft blanket to wrap the poor child in and then made his way to your shared room where he relit the fireplace ლ(･ω･*ლ)

At this point, you were sitting up in your futon wondering if Mitsuhide had gotten himself injured again (＾＾；)

Before you could even get up, your eyes widened in shock as you spotted the little bundled in Hideyoshi’s arms as he lit the fireplace ʘ‿ʘ

The second he handed the child to you, you were in love, in fact, both of you were in love ♡｡ﾟ.(*♡´‿` 人´‿` ♡*)ﾟ♡ °・

You raised the little girl as your own, the two of you could never track down her biological parents, not that you cared as you loved her to bits and would never be able to give her up (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。

I hope you enjoyed this love🦋🌻! And I hope you are keeping safe and well.❤❤🥰🌻

150 notes · View notes

dolce-peach · 4 years ago

Note

Loki x reader, reader is on the younger side (but not really) and has a large extended family who one day begged her to babysit three little nephews at the tower and Loki has to help too. Just parental Loki Fluff pls

domestic bliss

pairing: loki x reader

warnings: fluff, soft loki

a/n: i absolutely cannot 🥺 also my non-creative mind decided to name the lil ones peter, harry, and gwen 😅😂 and i will say this as many times as i can: loki deserves the whole world 🥺🥺🥺❤️ hope you guys like it!

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fanblog

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

“Who is the best baby in the whole wide world?”

Your baby nephew Peter squealed in your arms as you held him up, hoisting him higher until he left your hands for a moment. He giggled as you caught him again, his cheeks rosy.

“But Auntie Y/N! What about me?” your other nephew Harry whined, hugging your leg.

“I’m Auntie Y/N’s favorite!” exclaimed your niece, Gwen. “Everyone knows that!”

You laughed as you bent down, embracing them. “I love you all, okay?”

You kissed their cheeks before carrying Peter into the kitchen, where you got his bottle ready.

Your days weren’t usually like this at the Avengers Tower, but when your older sisters had to run on last minute business trips, as the youngest, you couldn’t say no. Little Peter, Harry, and Gwen had grown to be absolutely irresistible in recent years, so you never minded looking after them anyways.

Peter began whining a bit, sensing his bottle was close to being ready. He already began reaching for the bottle.

“No, sweetie,” you cooed. “It’s not ready yet.”

Gwen tugged at your sweats. “Auntie Y/N, can I have a snack?”

You answered by getting a bowl of sliced peaches out on the table. Both Harry and Gwen climbed into their seats, reaching for the fruit.

Peter cried a bit more, and you did your best to distract him by making funny faces. His cries echoed throughout the entire floor.

“Who in the world is making so much noise?” Loki raged as he stormed into the room.

You sent him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, my sisters needed someone to watch the kids.”

Loki’s threatening aura faded away, replaced with realization. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Forgive me.”

“Uncle Loki!” Gwen cheered.

The god frowned. “That’s King Loki to you.”

Harry pouted. “I thought Uncle Thor was the king.”

“That’s --” Loki sighed. “Never mind.”

You almost completely forgot about Peter in your arms. You grabbed the warm bottle and fit the nipple on top before giving it to him. He grasped on tightly, sucking eagerly.

Out of the corner of your eye, Loki tried peeking over your shoulder to watch as Harry and Gwen were having a conversation about spaceships.

“Isn’t he adorable?” you whispered.

Loki cowered back, coughing. “I suppose he’s quite...above average.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you not like kids?”

“They’re loud,” he said, eyeing Harry and Gwen. “They’re much too excited, and they have incredible tantrums.”

“Hm, sounds a lot like you,” you teased.

He walked around the counter. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly how it sounds,” you laughed.

Loki rolled his eyes as he stood in front of you. You somehow never ceased to amaze him with how far you could go.

Before he could realize what was going on, you placed Peter in his hands.

His eyes widened with panic. “Wait, what are you doing?”

You grinned, adjusting his awkward, lanky arms so he held the baby safely. “Letting the four of you bond while I take a break,” you said. “I can only be a mom for so long.”

“Parenting is not necessarily a specialty I possess, especially given my family history,” he said. “Take him back!”

“I’ll be down training with Nat for about an hour,” you said as you playfully nudged his shoulder. “Call me if you need anything, but he should be ready for a nap after finishing his bottle. All you have to do is watch him sleep.”

“Where are you going, Auntie Y/N?” Harry inquired sadly.

You ruffled his hair. “Just downstairs to train,” you explained. “Don’t you want to spend time with Uncle Loki?”

Harry looked as though he was going to cry. “Yeah, but I want you, Auntie Y/N!”

Gwen took his hand. “It’s okay, Harry. I’ll take care of you,” she said. “And Uncle Loki might make something explode again!”

Harry’s eyes lit up, making you smile.

You gave the two one more hug before walking towards the door, sending a wink towards Loki.

He glared at you. “I have to admit I’m thinking about stabbing you right now.”

“Go ahead,” you said. “But you’d miss me.”

Loki frowned deeply, opening his mouth to complain once more before you shut the door behind you.

You panted, catching your breath as you took gulps of water. Your body was pretty worn from babysitting the past few days, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“How are the little rascals?” Natasha asked, sitting down next to you.

You handed her a water bottle and a towel. “So energetic,” you said. “They’re good kids.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she laughed. “Who’s watching them now?”

“Loki.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? He was okay with it?”

“Not really, but when is he ever?”

She nodded. “Hope he doesn’t make the toaster oven explode again.”

You laughed.

After a few more minutes of rest, you decided you were done for the day. You said bye to Natasha before heading upstairs to the common area. You were expecting total chaos and mayhem, but when the doors slid open, it was quiet.

“Loki?” you called.

You carefully walked in, your eyes scanning the room until you spotted them on the couch.

Loki sat sleeping, holding Harry and Gwen on either side while Peter was sound asleep in his lap. Loki’s lips were slightly agape, making you stifle a laugh.

You carefully snapped a picture before touching his shoulder. “Loki.”

He opened his eyes groggily as you helped him up, careful not to wake the kids. “Y/N?”

“Morning, sleepy-head,” you laughed. “Have fun while I was gone?”

“Actually,” he began. “Yes.”

“Good,” you said. “I think you’d make a great dad. I think they really like you.”

His eyes glistened. “You think so?”

“Definitely.”

167 notes · View notes

sabineelectricheart · 4 years ago

Text

Little, Unexpected Bun

Summary: The farmer has been feeling a bit under the weather, but this is only because of the wedding planning stress. Right?

Rating: K - Intended for general audience 5 years and older. Content should be free of any coarse language, violence, and adult themes.

Words: 1400

Notes: Or, why the farmer’s parents never appears on important family moments.

It is hard business getting married in Pelican Town, Estella cannot help but to point out. It was with a heavy heart that she has to conclude that there is no small wedding, they were all expensive and complex affairs, no matter how much she wanted to avoid such a thing.

With a small huff, after working most of the day in party planning with Robin and Maru as her fiancé Sebastian took the car and went to a neighbouring town for some supplies, the usually vivacious farmer fell into a chair in the kitchen, absolutely spent. She swore she had more stamina than that, but lately, she could barely manage to finish all her chores.

These last few weeks had been absolutely crazy for the bride, with the expenses, the planning and the farm that could not be ignored. Not to mention, she had been ill almost every morning, managing to retain little on her stomach. Thankfully, she had her in-laws to help, the woman cannot help but note, as the carpenter still ran around like she had unlimited energy, fixing a kettle of tea for the three women to share.

“Care for anything else to drink, darling?” Robin asked as she poured Maru a cup.

“Actually, do you happen to have any chocolate milk? I swear it’s all I’ve been drinking lately.” Estella laughed quietly, and shook her head at herself.

Robin froze in her spot, her eyes widening. This made the farmer’s smile fade as she glanced to Maru, who was equally confused.

“Mom, are you alright?” The dark-skinned girl asked curiously as she stood up from her own seat, putting her hand on her mother’s arm.

Estella felt instantly guilty, coming to her feet quickly as well and taking the kettle from Robin.

“I’m sorry, did I say something?” She asked worriedly, hoping she did not upset her future mother-in-law.

The older redhead looked at the bride, her face growing red and a smile forming on her lips.

“You’re pregnant.” She said, rather than asking.

The farmer’s face grew incredibly red and she stepped back, shaking her head.

“When I was pregnant with Sebastian and Maru, all I could stomach the entire nine months was chocolate milk.” The carpenter explained further, only making the younger woman’s face pale more and more.

Maru gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth.

“No, absolutely not. There’s no way this could have happened.” Estella began incredibly strong but her face softened as she began thinking.

She had thought she was rather bloated, her stomach was upset constantly in the last month, and, as she counted back the days in her head, it dawned on her that is was quite literally a possibility.

“Oh, oh, oh, Yoba damn it!” Estella felt faint suddenly, gripping the back of the kitchen chair as she struggled to catch her breath.

Maru grabbed her arms, stabilizing her with wide eyes. “What? What are you thinking?”

Robin came to her other side, leading she into a chair and pushing her to sit.

“Dear, are you, in any chance, pregnant?” The older woman asked this time, sitting in the chair next to she and holding her hands in her own comfortingly.

“I think I am.” Estella whispered. “Good Yoba, I’m going to be a mother!”

The almost devotional whisper was the only sound the three of them emitted that moment, as the expecting mother put her head in her hands, leaning against Robin.

“It’s okay, dear, we will confirm everything at the clinic before there’s reason for you start panicking. Maru will see to that. Besides, there’s nothing to panic about. She and Sebastian would be great parents, I’m sure of it.” The carpenter assured in a calm voice and got to her feet, moving about the house.

Maru assumed her seat, holding her sister-in-law’s hand and rubbing her back comfortingly, leaning her head on the woman’s shoulders, as they sat by the table quietly, reassuring each other.

“She’s right, you know? You and Sebastian are responsible adults, you have a stable life and you can do this and come out as the best parents in the world at the end, and I’m not just saying that because I would be an amazing aunt.” The brunette smiled against her sister-in-law’s head as she sniffled gently, feeling like she was going to cry.

Estella was not necessarily unhappy to be pregnant, mind you, it was more akin to disappointment. She had always thought she would plan it out with her husband first, that they would have time to prepare and ample opportunity to enjoy their marriage, rather than it being a surprise before even the vows were exchanged. Yet, this is her reality now, and she will be happy with it. Eventually.

While Robin tried to console her daughter-in-law, Maru ran to the clinic and sneaked out a home pregnancy test. After a quick sample-taking, it was confirmed that Estella was indeed expecting, probably celebrating her fifth week mark.

Tears fell down the farmer’s face as Robin held her, her own tears soaking into her shirt as the carpenter cried happily.

“I’m going to be a grandmother! For the first time, oh dear! I never thought Sebastian was going to be the one to make me a grandmother!” She rambled as Maru smiled widely, wrapping her arms around the both of them.

“Me either.” The nursing student admitted with a nervous laugh and wiped at her eyes, trying to remain calm.

The three women heard a car engine turning down and the front door open, as loud conversation echoed from the hallowed halls of the mountain home.

“Oh, hell, I’ve got to tell Sebastian.” Estella whispered to the women, Robin trying to dry her face with the sleeves of her working shirt and Maru beaming with undue pride.

Estella followed her mother-in-law’s example, wiping her face with a handkerchief as Sebastian and Sam entered the kitchen, arms heavy with crates full of champagne bottles.

“Hey, people!” Sam announced without noticing the women in the room all looking rather dishevelled. “Well, Mrs. Robin, I'd say we made excellent progress today!”

Sebastian, entering in after his friend, tilted his head to the side at his crying mother, beaming sister, and shaking soon to be wife.

“What happened to you lot?” He questioned, rather blazingly, as Demetrius, who had also returned from his small hike to check on the fruit bats at the cave by the entrance of Stardew Estate, looking even more confused.

“What’s wrong, dear?” The older man asked then, immediately rushing to Robin’s side and wrapping an arm around her as she broke down crying once more and throwing her arms around her husband.

Sebastian looked at the tears in her eyes as Estella wrung her hands out in front of her.

“You see, the thing is… I’m pregnant.” She announced, making the room fall silent, spare Robin’s happy sobs.

Sebastian’s face reddened, and his best friend looked between the farmer and him incredulously.

“You mean to tell me she two have been having premarital sex?!” The man asked ridiculously, in an attempt to ease the mood of the room, but no-one gave him any attention.

Sebastian practically sprinted around the table, picking his fiancée up in his arms and burying his face in her neck. Maru broke into a cackle as she joined her parents side, wrapping her arms around them excitedly.

“Are you being serious?” He asked urgently when he finally sets her down, holding her crying face in his hands. “I’m going to be a father?”

Estella nodded through her tears with a small smile on her lips, unable to say anything of more substance.

“Oh, honey, this is wonderful!” He said excitedly as he hugged her once more, the widest smile on his lips that she had ever seen in the five years of knowing him.

Sebastian kissed the farmer with all he had before releasing her to allow the rest of his family time to love on her.

By the end of the week, Sebastian and Estella were wed on a beautiful ceremony on the beach, under all the villagers’ well-wishes, none of them wise to the bun in the oven. Afterwards, the couple left for a weekend honeymoon in the city.

On Sunday, in the middle of the night, Estella jumps from the bed.

“Yoba merciful, I have to tell my mother!”

*_*_*_*_*

Stardew Valley Masterlist

#stardew valley #sebastian

15 notes · View notes

imherongraystairstrash · 4 years ago

Text

Sophideon & Baby Thomas pt. 3!!

I’ve finally finished! I hope it’s a good conclusion! The part in bold is from the second part, since I thought it would be confusing without it. Here are parts 1 and 2

-Ana <3

“Thomas Lightwood.”

They looked at him again. He hadn’t changed since they had named him and yet, there was something else in the air:

Hope.

…

Six weeks later, they were able to hold him. Sophie cried while she cradled Thomas and supported his tiny head in her palm. He was still so tiny, and yet he was so beautiful. He had yet to open his eyes, or even cry, for that matter. She knew her face was a mess of tears and had probably turned red and splotchy. However, in that moment, Sophie did not have it in her to care about those little things. All she thought about was how her baby boy, who had been on the verge of death far too many times to count, was breathing in her arms. Gideon put his own arms around her and his chin on her shoulder. He stroked Thomas’ cheek with his thumb. So long they had anticipated this moment and now they relished in it. Sophie felt so lucky that Thomas had lived, even if there was still time left before they could bring him home. She kissed his tiny nose and turned her head to kiss Gideon. She knew she would cherish this moment for the rest of her life.

…

Two months had come and gone before Thomas Lightwood was able to come home. Two months of living half of their lives in the Silent City. Both parents were ecstatic that they would finally be able to introduce Thomas to their daughters. Most of all, they were excited to be able to go back to their normal life, where they could wake up and go to sleep in the same bed, take their daughters out for walks and fall back into a routine.

Gideon would always insist on spending the night in the Silent City with Thomas while urging Sophie to go back home with the girls. After all, she had given birth recently and she needed to recover.

“Thomas and I will have some man-time.” Gideon would joke, always trying to lighten the mood of the situation.

Sophie would just shake her head and kiss his cheek goodnight.

Now, Gideon was tucking Thomas into a small basket made big with little Thomas inside. Sophie wished more than anything that nobody on the streets would stop them. Not because she was ashamed of her son; she could never feel ashamed for him. If anything she felt pride that he survived when even the Brothers did not think he was going to live. However, she did not wish to have to see the faces of people when they caught sight of Thomas. For Gideon and herself, Thomas’ current state was an immense improvement, though that has most likely been because they were the only ones who had seen him that first day. She did not wish to hear the gasp, see the look of sympathy. Most of all, she did not want to hear an apology, as though Thomas being alive were a burden to them because of how he looked. Sophie wished people could see Thomas for the blessing he was. She did not stay by his side all those hours for people to take one look at him and pity her for birthing a sickly child.

Gideon straightened and offered her his arm. “Shall we go back home?”

Sophie couldn’t help but smile. “I would love nothing more.”

They bid the Silent Brothers goodbye, thanking them profusely for all of their help. Sophie even embraced Jem, even though it was not necessarily a correct way of thanking a Silent Brother. Gideon kept looking back into the basket as they walked down the street.

“What?” Sophie asked.

“I still cannot believe I’m carrying Thomas.”

“Because he is so light?”

“Well, I was thinking because it seemed like we would never be able to take him home, but him being so light does not help his case.”

Sophie rested her head on his shoulder. “At least he will be easy to bring down when he gets stuck in that tree, like two little girls I know.”

Gideon laughed. “However will we get three children out of that tree? We’ve run out of arms.”

“I can climb up and throw them down to you.”

“And how will you get down?”

“I think I am more than capable of getting down from a tree, Gideon Lightwood.”

“Of course you are, my beautiful Sophia, but I would have climbed up and helped you down.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

Gideon shook his head, smiling.

After being sad for so long, their happiness felt like a cold river on a hot summer’s day.

…

Eugenia and Barbara could hardly suppress the bounce in their steps as Gideon walked them back home. They were so excited to finally see their brother, that they practically dragged Gideon home.

“Papa, walk quicker!”

“Yes! What if he grows tired and leaves?”

“Silly, Genie. Thomas cannot walk yet.” Barbara said.

“Oh, right.”

The girls wiggled, trying to slip out of his grasp.

“Stop doing that,” Gideon laughed. “Thomas is very patient.”

“But I am not! Oh, Papa, I must see him before I burst with…” Eugenia trailed off.

“Anticipation?” Gideon offered.

“Yes. I think. I will burst with an-pisi-pat-on.”

Barbara furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Gideon. He shrugged and motioned for her to let it go and not correct her sister.

Eugenia skipped the rest of the way down the road, until their house came into view.

“We are almost there!” She squealed and jumped.

“Eugenia. You cannot scream when you get there. You will upset him.” Barbara said.

Eugenia rolled her eyes.

Gideon opened the door to the house and took them to where Thomas and Sophie were.

…

Barbara caught one look at him and ran back to Gideon. She buried her face in his leg and shook her head, not wanting to see anymore. Eugenia was more curious. She looked at his face with fascination and, much to Gideon and Sophie’s surprise, bent down next to him. Eugenia examined his small hands and took one look at his closed eyes before saying, “Isn’t he excited to meet us? How come he’s still asleep?”

Sophie catches Gideon’s eye. He, too, seemed to be suppressing a laugh; only Eugenia would be offended that her infant brother was asleep during their first encounter.

“He’s too young to understand what is going on, Genie. I’m sure if he knew, he would be wide awake.”

“Hm, maybe someone should tell him,” Eugenia said. “Hullo, Thomas,” she announced, “I am your older sister, but not your oldest sister. I am your…” She trailed off.

“Younger older sister?” Gideon offered.

“Yes!”

Sophie looked at him, surprised.

“Gabriel said the same thing when Tatiana was born.” Gideon said, his voice going soft at the mention of his sister.

Sophie gave him a comforting look, knowing how hard it was to speak of Tatiana.

“Anyway, I am your younger older sister. Eugenia.”

Perhaps it was a pure coincidence. However, it was safe to say that Gideon and Sophie did not expect Thomas to open his eyes right after Eugenia finished speaking.

Sophie gasped. Thomas’ bright green eyes looked around the room. They were beautiful. She bent down next to Eugenia. Gideon tried to coax Barbara to look up for where she had pressed her face against his neck.

Sophie put her arms around Eugenia and hugged her tightly.

“I think that means he is happy to meet you, Genie.”

Eugenia’s lips spread into a wide smile.

“I like my new brother.” Eugenia said. “What about you, Barbara?”

Barbara looked up, barely, at the mention of her name. Eugenia looked at her expectantly. Barbara did not say anything.

“It’s alright, Barbara.”

“No, it’s not.” Eugenia frowned.

“Eugenia!”

“She’s being vain and inconsiderate. Don’t you know it’s rude not to introduce yourself, Babs?”

“Genie,” Gideon said.

“Poor Thomas came all this way to meet us and you cannot even show him an ounce of respect?”

“Eugenia.” Sophie said, outraged.

“If you’ll excuse me, I would like to get to know our dear brother better.” And with that Eugenia picked up the basket and walked out of the room.

Gideon and Sophie stood stupefied. They exchanged an appalled look until Sophie realized what Eugenia held in her hands—

“EUGENIA, put Thomas down!”

“You want me to drop Thomas?!”

“NO!” Sophie and Gideon yelled.

Eugenia popped back into view and Sophie ran to her, grabbing hold of the basket.

Eugenia’s eyes widened, looking like they were at the verge of tears.

“Eugenia, honey, I know you want to spend time with Thomas, but he’s very fragile right now. If you were to drop him by mistake—”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know, darling. The point is, he can get hurt very easily and we don’t want that, do we?”

“No, mama.”

Sophie kissed her forehead. “You can hold him if you wish, but you must sit down and be very gentle.”

Eugenia bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yes, mama! I promise to be extra careful with him! May I hold him now?”

Sophie chuckled. “Of course.”

…

Barbara did not even want to be in the same room as Thomas. Sophie was worried that she would never warm up to her brother and it absolutely broke her heart. It was evident to her that she was overreacting. Surely Barbara would come to love him. Eventually. Sophie bit her lip. Yes, there was no doubt about it. She will. Or she won’t. No, no, she will.

Sophie pressed her lips together tightly. She looked down at Thomas in her arms, who was staring up at her. She smiled and nuzzled his face.

“Sweet child. How different you are from your very loud sisters.”

She looked into his green eyes.

“Do not fret for you will grow very tall, my darling.” Sophie kissed his soft feet. “Why, all of the men in my family were as tall as beanstalks.”

Thomas smiled a little bit, perhaps at her facial expressions.

“And one day, when you can speak,” she brushed his lips with her finger, “you will tell us about how it’s like to touch the clouds.”

She put her finger in his semi-open hand. Thomas slowly closed it. His fist was so tiny, it couldn’t fit her entire hand in it. Sophie kissed his cheek. She whispered in his ear.

“Do not tell your sisters, but I’ve always wanted a son.”

…

Sophie looked at the photograph on her bedside table. Sophie smiled and placed her hand over the witchlight to turn it off. She looked at Gideon, who was already in bed from sheer exhaustion. He opened his arms for her and Sophie nestled herself inside. She pressed her cheek against his warm chest as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“You’re freezing, Soph.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

She closed her eyes and smiled.

“Soph?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, I thought you fell asleep.”

“So quickly?”

Gideon gave her a sheepish smile, which Sophie kissed softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Whether they were talking about the company of each other or seeing the sadness having finally been lifted from the other, it would remain unknown. Perhaps it was both; a concoction of pure bliss and adrenalin that comes when you finally step out of the shadows.

Their troubles were far from over. They would have to face trials through tears and sadness in the near future but, in the present, nothing could harm them. Even if they knew they were in the eye of the hurricane, rather than the outskirts, they would still be smiling. Sadness could wait.

Sophie combed her fingers through Gideon’s hair and rested her lips on his collarbone. His hands on her back were warm, sweet. She was drifting off to sleep when she heard it.

Her eyes flew open, and she met Gideon’s. They flew out of bed and sped to the nursery. Was he really crying? Sophie’s eyes burned. She opened the door and found someone had already come to Thomas.

Barbara was looking down at the crib, one of her hands drooped inside. Thomas was quiet as he stared up at his sister. Sophie watched, mesmerized as Barbara smiled at her brother. She felt hands on her shoulders and smiled up at Gideon.

Sophie and Gideon had three children. And they were their pride and joy.

Tagging: @celias

68 notes · View notes

previouslynebraskan · 3 years ago

Text

Why humans are assholes

Hi, my pen name is Gwendolyn, and welcome to my TED talk on empathy

*side note, I suck at writing, and my train of thought is derailed frequently. So buckle up, and I’ll be surprised if you make it with me to the end, as we don’t know organization.

First off, I’ll disclaim something terrible about myself. I’m a Christian. Even worse. I’m a rosary rattler. A Catholic! Oh and you thought it couldn’t get worse? I’m not even a good one. God and I are only on speaking terms when I need him (which is pretty frequent, but not the point). Church feels like an obligation most weeks, and just because I know the rules and believe in the rules, doesn’t mean that I follow them.

Alrighty! Terrible things out of the way. Let’s begin. Humans are assholes. Most people, especially the population of Tumblr, will agree with me. Between human atrocities, selfishness, and down right lack of care, humans are just assholes. I am too. I am human. Ask my siblings. Like any good older sister, I wanted nothing to do with my siblings, and when forced to see them at school, I was unprecedently mean to them. Ask my husband. I am ridiculously selfish, and only do things when it suits me. And yet, there is an entire history of the human race, with worse individuals than myself. And a lot of people might see that, and think, cool, I feel better about myself, because I’m not Hitler. I feel better about myself because I wasn’t a member of the KKK. Well, personally, I don’t. The next disclaimer I am going to make about myself, I’m a self-diagnosed empath. I’ve never been to a therapist. I don’t currently have plans to either, but I’ll let God decide that path later. The reason I bring this up, and the reason I mentioned my religion at the beginning, is because I truly believe that if not for my first disclaimer, my second might not exist.

I am a crier. And I get annoyed at criers. But I don’t cry at reasonable things. No. I cry at other people’s feelings. Let’s bastardize the golden rule real quick. For those who are unaware, “Treat others how you want to be treated.” Now, I’m sure many people recall going through a phase where they could translate that in their still learning brains to “I can treat people however I want because I wouldn’t care if they were that way to me.” Now back to the golden rule. The bastardization is, put yourself in someone else’s shoes. How many of us got told this by their parents at a young age after not playing nicely with another kid? Apparently, God took it upon Himself to write that verse on my heart. And it went something like this: I cried when my mother told me that her grandmother (whom I had only met twice and had no actual recollection of) died. I was inconsolable when my grandfather died. So much so that even now, almost fifteen years later, it still stops me in my tracks, my heart hurts so much. I cried when Michael Jackson died. I didn’t really even like his music that much. I’ve cried at almost every movie I’ve ever seen. My sister’s speech at my wedding included the moment where she had to chaperone me on a date with my then boyfriend, and we went to Frozen. Now yes, I cried at the scene when her parents die in the shipwreck. But it gets worse. Elsa is out there, just ran away, no plans for shelter yet apparently, and she begins to break out into song. At first I’m fine. But then I can feel my heart, as she sings, “well now they know.” I start bawling my eyes out. And all I can give in response to my sister’s quizzical look of “What the fuck is wrong with you???” (Yes I cursed, I told you, not one of the good ones. Fuck off), was: “She’s just so happy!” I wouldn’t necessarily say I was sad at that time. But I could feel the relase that an animated character was expressing on the big screen. I could feel the weight come off of her shoulders, and I cried. I mourned for what she went through, but shed tears of joy that she had found peace. Tonight. I was watching Facebook videos instead of taking care of my nightly routine of getting ready for bed. And a Mengele twin told her story of survival. When she mentioned looking around for her father and older sisters, I felt that. When she said she could still see her mother’s outstreched arms, I could see that. When she mentioned the panic of trying to save her sister years after liberation, trying to find records of what was done to them, her rage and anger. And then her forgiveness. Do you know how strong someone has to be in order to forgive? To let go of the pain in your heart, knowing you’ll never get revenge. You’ll never get an answer. And you just let it go? That strength is super human. This week, as we pass the 20th anniversary of the tragedy of 9/11, my hometown did a wonderful commemoration. I cried. My aunt gave me a look of disgust because I was crying, again. I cried not only for those who lost their lives, but for their families who would never be whole, for the heroes who stepped up, then and now. I am a proud Navy wife. My husband is out sacrificing his time, so that I don’t have to. And so that I can worship my stupid religion that I cling to, so I can walk around saying inappropriate words and wear not enough clothing. But he made that choice. There are a lot who didn’t. Earlier this week, someone posted the transcription of the phone call of flight 93. The moment that he said that the passengers wanted to sacrifice their lives, for the sake of our country, I hurt. And then he asked the person on the other end of the line to pray. Another video this week, an ex soldier, who fought early on in Afghanistan was telling a story about one of his soldiers. They were getting ready for a raid that would likely kill them. His soldier asks, I know we signed up to fight, but why are we doing this? The man’s response was, for the people up in that tower who didn’t. He goes on to explain the story of a young mother. Two kids. Went to work like any other day, and her last attempt at human decency was to hold her skirt down as she jumped out of the burning tower, so the people below couldn’t see up her skirt.

Crpl. Page was a Marine from my state who just passed away. He was two years younger than me. I never knew him. But I grieve for his family and friends.

See the worst part about being an empath in a world where human’s are assholes, is there’s never a shortage of people’s feelings to feel. I’ve been told that you can experience an emotion so strongly that your body’s only reaction to the volume of what it feels is to cry. And that resonates with me. I feel joy to such an extreme when I’m with my family, celebrating time together. I feel the sorrow of people missing loved ones, and their hearts breaking. And there are times when I wonder if it’s a gift? Or if it’s a curse. It’s a gift to be able to go to someone and say, I can feel for you and your situation. I don’t feel sorry for you. I feel your pain as though it were my own. But it’s a curse to feel the attrocities of humanity and just sit and wonder why it had to happen. Why it had to come to this. I got told I was crying for attention. I wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. Supposedly, behavioral psychology could “fix me” if I wanted it. I could be trained to control my emotions, and process them in a way that wasn’t so consuming. It would definetly help my self diagnosed depression. But let’s posit that God made me this way for a reason. He gave me this gift with a purpose in mind. What then? The problem is, I don’t know how to effectively use it without letting it ruin my life. I can never be a therapist, because I would be able to take on the feelings of my clients. And while I do very much believe in tough love, I also belive that if you just have the right push in the right direction, great changes can be made. Would the Holocaust have happened if Hitler had better relationship with his mother? (this is a personal piece, I am reflecting on history classes I haven’t taken since high school. I’m not fact checking this. Don’t at me.) Would Columine have taken place if those kids had been in a better place mentally?

You know what the awful thing is...? Look at all of these events. Look at all of these heart wrenching dates in history. And then look what came out of them. Out of 9/11 came one of the most unified fronts America has had in a long time. Out of World War II came men of valor. A chemical reaction occurs when you take an object, and force it to experience a high degree of change. And that is what gives us assholes grit. Our experiences make us tougher, and make us better. And maybe less of a crybaby in my case. Or more of a cyborg who doesn’t experience emotion for fear of being consumed by them.

Ramble is over. For those of you who persisted and tried to keep up, good job and I’m sorry. For those who didn’t, don’t worry, I wouldn’t blame you.

Some effort is better than none at all, and if all you are capable of is existing today, then I hope you do, and I know you will do it beautifully.

6 notes · View notes

salty-fang · 4 years ago

Text

Loving you is hard

So, this idea spawned from a conversation with @iloveitwhen and I've just wanted to write it. So without further ado...

“I- Would you like to me out go? I mean me out you? I mean go out with me? On Sunday?” They’d been best friends for months after he’d saved her from Chloé and her posse, although not before she had been smeared in mud and had her spectacles smashed, lying askew. They had jeered at her, screaming ‘Piggy’, only relenting once Adrien charged out of the mansion, hurling himself in front of her. Chloé had turned and ran leaving Sabrina, Kim and Max in the forefront of his rage.

After he had delivered his lecture spectacularly, he ushered her inside, getting her a towel to dry the mud off. He’d given her a spare pair of clothes that used to belong to his older sister, Claire, before she had been adopted. Of course, his father had been slightly disappointed once he recognised who she was as he frequented the bakery quite a lot. He tried to belittle her calling her a ‘mere baker’s daughter’ which was personally a compliment. And, he chewed her out for interrupting an important meeting with THE Bruce Wayne- whoever that was. Adrien had been a gentleman and sneered in defiance at Gabriel’s discourtesy but she could see how white his fists were and how hard he had been biting his lip. And she could never have him get in trouble for her mistake so... she did what she knew best.

She cried. You see, she had inherited quite the set of pipes and her cries had made the pointless vases tremble as her wails caused the pictures to shake. She placed Adrien’s hand in her own grubby little ones before pulling him away into the first room she saw. Failing to notice Emilie’s small smirk at the chaos she invoked and failing to hear Adrien’s desperate pleas for her to stop. Tentatively, she opened the door, sighing in relief at the sight of the empty room. It was slightly breath taking but intimidating at the sheer size of the room but the presence she felt behind her and Adrien’s wide eyes plagued her.

“When you said you would be getting ready to spar, did you mean that? Or were you out gallivanting with some girl?” Yup, that was it. His voice commanded respect, leaving no room for argument. His face was stoic and he exuded confidence yet his demeanour was cool. He had the ability to blend into the shadows, which admittedly scared the socks off of her. And he was even colder than Chloe. But so was she. She had never been proud of it but it was there. It was just too hard to reign in once she exposed that side of her.

“Some girl, huh? It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng to you. Talk to me when you’ve had a shower and you don’t look like you haven’t changed clothes in a year. You think just because your friends with Agreste I’ll be polite whilst you insult me? If you do, well congratulations because you’ve invented a new kind of stupid.” She could see Adrien wince out of the corner of her eyes, the look of appraisal in Damian's eye before he turned a frightful glare towards her with the top of his lips curled in a sneer as he scoffed.

“You think you can waltz in here and interrupt my meeting with Agreste because you think you better than me. Because newsflash, and I know all about them, you may be pretty than most child models but you’re still an arrogant deceitful brat, Marionette. So why don’t you go back and roll in the mud, Piggy.”

“Damian that’s enough,” pleaded Adrien, voice strained.

“Is it though? She hardly looks phased.” It wasn’t true, it had hurt more than she had thought it would and she felt each word pierce her heart, breaking her down.

“He’s right though Adrien.” She saw the shock on both faces as she trained her eyes on the ground before locking her eyes on Damian. “But at least I’m honest about it. And I know the reality is going to slap him so hard in the face once he finds out he isn’t as amazing as he thinks.” She gave Adrien a quick hug before turning to leave, grabbing her pink purse from the couch. She could feel her temper flare up as she walked away, knowing that she could have easily won the battle. She- a Dupain-Cheng- had run away from a challenge. The only reason she had lost was because she’d been in unfamiliar territory and she wanted to make a good impression on Adrien.

Adrien! He probably thought she was annoying. Or weird. Maybe both. Definitely both. He’d probably tell his parents how weird she was and get a restraining order placed on her. She’d never defeat Damian and Adrien would hate her. Her parents would probably disown her too. Oh no. She’d be a lonely cat woman living off scraps in some alleyway. Everyone would forget about her and Adrien would marry Chloe. Chloe! She had been in such a state that she hadn’t seen Emilie walking towards her, engrossed in her new script.

“Hngh. Sorry about that. Oh, you’re the girl who told my husband off. Ni-chickpea why are you crying? Aww, come over here princess.”

“I’m sorry for everything. Sorry about crashing into your home, sorry for being the rudest guest ever, sorry for interrupting your meeting, sorry for being ugly.”

“Did Adrien tell you that? No? Well, you’re beautiful inside and out, chick. Don’t cry because of some stupid boy who has no filter. Now, would you like to grab some ice cream with your auntie Em.

“No thanks. My aunt, Delphine, said no one likes girls who don’t have tiny waists. She told me that I’d be more pretty if I lost weight so I really shouldn’t. Or she might tell my father if I gain any.” And with that, she scrambled off her lap with a surprisingly agile leap and ran out of the mansion. Emilie hadn’t decided whether she’d like to launch Delphine into the sun or sock her across the face but she knew that she’d be having a few choice words with her. When she got in contact with her.

It really wasn’t a surprise when months later, Marinette, who had become a regular guest at their home arrived in a flood of tears, explaining how her aunt had booked her for a flight next week to go and live with Tom and Sabine, neither of which knew she’d existed until today. Obviously, Delphine had done it because of her conversation with Emilie and her selfish ideals. Tom and Sabine both had been reluctant, and that was putting it mildly, to take her in reaffirming the fact that they had wanted no children. Although, their empathy ultimately won as her sister told her she would put Marinette up for adoption or even leave her homeless, alone to fend for herself.

It had come as a surprise to both Damian and Marinette who had actually reconciled after getting off on the wrong foot, but it didn’t stop the occasional glares or the brusque and impatient nature of Damian. However, Marinette had been too blinded by her crush on the cinnamon roll for her to realise that his iciness hadn’t completely thawed. Sure, he could tolerate her but he didn’t necessarily like her. He just put up with her because she was acquainted with Agreste, which led to many many third wheeling situations like now.

“I- Would you like to me out go? I mean me out you? I mean go out with me? On Sunday?” He actually had the audacity to snicker at her being tongue tied but a small part of him wanted her to get rejected. He liked their dynamic as it was, there was no need to complicate it with stupid feelings. The atmosphere felt tense and awkward, both things he had no idea how to deal with so he waited on the doorsteps of the rose garden’s entrance, which was a terribly cliché place to confess. If he knew Agreste, Marinette would come running with tears streaming down her face in

5...4...3...2...

There she came, her steps thundering down the narrow pathway as leaves and thorns entangled themselves in her hair. And if he knew Dupain-Cheng, she’d tell him the reason behind her tears in

3...2...1...

“He rejected me. He called me Piggy. It’s alright if you say it but it hurt when he did, it hurt. Do you think he said no because I’m not pretty or skinny enough?” She whined, pounding her puny fists against his chest.

‘Damn it, why couldn’t it be Grayson? He was always more suited to dealing with emotions than I ever was.’ He awkwardly patted her hair, humming a tune his mother would sing to him before she disappeared. It always seemed to soothe him and even when he hated Drake, he’d begrudgingly admit that he calmed him down when he was being bratty but never catty.

‘That word is reserved exclusively for Selina.’ He shuddered at the thought of being so closely linked to Catwoman.

‘Never again. Never. Again.’

“What’s never again?”

“Huh?”

“You were muttering it pretty hard under your breath.”

‘Yeah and you switched from upset to bubbly but ain’t nobody questioning you.’

“Uh yeah. I meant no boy will make you cry ever again except for me. And if they do, I’ll come right over and make you smile.” What was he saying? Why wouldn’t he just shut up? Now she’d think he was serious and she probably wouldn’t stop pestering him about it.

“Promise?” she cooed; her doe-eyes narrowed owlishly at him.

“Promise.” Man, he hated being caught off guard. It made him do some admittedly stupid things. Stupid, illegal things although in his defence, when was he not doing something illegal. It was literally his defining element and didn’t each boy who made Ma-Dupain-Cheng cry know it. Adrien had been lucky to escape with a tiny bruise on his forearm because of Marinette’s pleas, but he’d spare him no mercy next time.

In the span of six months, he had had more social interactions with Dupain-Cheng-the name was becoming such a mouthful that he considered calling her Marinette- than he had had in his entire life span. However, his presence was made redundant in the last 3 years as he hadn’t gotten any indication that she was still alive. No texts, no impromptu 3am calls, no nothing. She’d disappeared without a trace and whilst he felt relieved to be rid of his persistent acquaintance, he missed the fun and chaos they’d create.

With her unbridled creativity and his cunning and quick wit, none of his family were any match for them. They’d hide in vents, find secret passageways, watch security and not once would their whereabouts be detected. But now, he had no partner, no alibi and no one to build a pillow for with him. It seemed so childish but it was comfortable and alleviated the stress and pressure on him, giving him a chance to regress back to a childlike mentality. One he never experienced even after he broke free from the League’s clutches.

Even when Marinette despised him, she’d still soothe him when the memories became too vivid which was her biggest flaw but one of her redeeming qualities. She had no reason to help him, there was nothing to gain from his former arrogant egotistical ten-year-old self but she still voluntarily to calm him down.

When he would have trouble breathing, she’d stay with him, helping him even out his heart rate. When he would tussle with the sheets at sleepovers, she would lie awake with him, huddling herself closer to him before humming a sweet yet sharp harmony, lulling him to sleep. He would occasionally feel the light kiss on his forehead but was completely oblivious to Marinette slipping from his grasp.

She’d be sprawled on the floor near to him, looking tense and completely uncomfortable and yet she’d have a semblance of a smile etched across her face. He always had found it quite foolish but secretly endearing.

He'd been ignorant to think that she’d always be that close to him Always there to give him a much-needed hug even if he wrestled out of embrace. That she’d always be that close to him, running to him at his beck and call. The bleak reality slapped him across the cheek. The dwindling conversation was evidence enough that she’d be glad to finally be rid of him. He heard from Adrien that she had still been in contact with him regularly enough to know the ins and outs of her situation. He genuinely thought she was dead, although it was becoming more increasingly clear that she was wilfully ignoring him. Which stung. A lot.

Five years ago, Marinette was a bawling mess in Damian's arm. Three years ago, she had last heard from Damian. He seemed as though he was bored of their conversations yet Adrien had been telling her otherwise.

Adrien, Adrien, Adrien. The boy was oblivious as ever, even going as far to budge her in Damian’s direction.

‘Pfft! Damian, he’s blunt as hell but too nice for his own good. He’s cold yet he shows more empathy than everyone else I know. He’s warm and his hair is to die for. I love how soft it is when it’s not gelled back. But even if he is all that, Adrien’s held my heart for all these years and I’m not going to let some fluttering feelings, that Damian probably doesn’t return, ruin all my progress.’

Her progress consisted on growing out of her shell (and growing out her hair), experimenting new outfits and lip gloss. Plus, she learnt how to cook meals and bake pastries with her parents so that was a great thing that came out from those years of isolation. She’d also lost some weight and had been cutting back on the carbs, so when she had landed back in Gotham, she had been shocked to see a pile of high carb, fatty foods awaiting her. Her arms itched to try one and she was quite tempted to delve right in for old times’ sake but the look her aunt gave her stopped her short. A smug smirk, a haughty scoff and the condescending shake of the head was enough to send Marinette out without lunch. Oh well. She could always pinch some off of someone else.

Behind her, she could hear snippets of two distinctly female voices.

“Ugh... fat ass. Skirts too short.”

“Attention seeker.”

‘No, I’m not.’

“Bitch.”

‘Please, not again.’

“Rip it off. She’s practically parading around in her knickers anyways.”

‘Please just, leave me alone.’

She could hear their footsteps and their heavy breathing before blood-curdling squeals ripped through the air.

“IT’S DAMIAN WAYNE!” They shrieked, making her spin around in a daze. Surely it couldn’t be who they thought it was. They were just mistaken. Because, there was no way that this dude towering over her was the same guy who was incredibly shorter than her years ago. It couldn’t be. The guy with a jawline that was sharper than glass couldn’t be the same baby-faced Damian she knew. But the thing that caught her off guard was the mischievous gleam in his glowing green eyes. She’d recognise his beautiful eyes anywhere.

“What do you have to say for yourselves?” So that was new. His rather high-pitched tone replaced by a soothing baritone bass. It had been enough to send her into a trance but she was shocked out of her stupor when she felt a tug on her arm.

“Careful idiot. You nearly walked straight into traffic and you don’t want to turn into roadkill now.” He hissed. She could feel the pout on her face and the light flush of her cheeks at his proximity but willed herself to march on.

“You’re fine,” said one of the girls, trailing her finger down his chest. Marinette could feel her stomach churn in embarrassment plus jealousy and stopped in her tracks to rescue Damian from an awkward situation.

“That’s not what I asked though. Are you not going to apologise?”

“To who?”

“To her. You just insulted her for no reason and you’re tryna walk away.”

“Sorry.” They huffed before flashing strained smiles at Damian. They would have left if it wasn’t for Marinette’s intervention. And it was a sassy one at that.

“Last time I checked you insulted me. But it sounded like you were apologising to Pretty Boy over there. Aren’t you gonna say sorry to me or were you just being insincere?"

“We’re sorry.” They chorused after a few pointed glares from Damian yet that didn’t stop them from muttering the word ‘bitch' under their breath as they walked away.

“Hey Mary, you short stack how you been doing? Haven’t seen you for 5 years and of course you stopped speaking to me for about 3 but, hey, we move.”

“Actually, I thought you didn’t want to chat with me anymore so I stopped. And did your Dad force you to attend every ‘slang lesson' available because you actually talk like you’re genuinely our age. And Damian, learn my name. It’s been 5 years and you’ve said every variation of names that aren’t mine.”

“But how else are we gonna have our inside jokes.”

“By firstly using something funny. And remove your hand from around my shoulder, people are going to assume we’re dating. Especially with how fickle everyone here is.”

“I mean is there really a problem with us dating?” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yes, you know I love Adrien. We can’t give him the wrong idea about us.”

“I forgot, I promised that I’d help tutor the exchange student, Lila Rossi, I think. I’ll see you later?” And with that he slunk off, which in all honesty was pretty weird. Damian offering to help a random person? It sounded like more of an excuse. But she had to find Adrien first. To show him how much she’d changed. She’d dyed her hair to an inky black with tints of blue, gotten her ears pierced and actually wore skirts and dresses now. She’d savour his shocked pikachu face for ever with how speechless he’d be.

When she was about to wander the yard when she saw his blonde mop of hair glitter in the sunlight. She moved from an idle stroll to a brisk walk before breaking out into a sprint. But the sight in front of her made her blood boil as she heard Adrien scream...

“Hey, Piggy!” He had pulled a person, who was obviously not her, into a hug before gazing admiringly into their eyes. Eyes which were slightly prettier than hers. Well, it was always better to blend into the background or at least that’s what she told herself.

It didn’t explain the churning in her stomach, the tears pricking the corners of her eyes or the fact she’d choked on her spit.

What the hell was going on?!

Note

Lila Rossi and Marinette don't know each other, but it was convenient to use her in this situation.

This is also separate from Twisted Fate.

#daminette #damian x marinette #damienette #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #lila rossi

25 notes · View notes