#leo hisses at anyone who dares come too close

[panda-noosh]

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. 

[apples-r-rubbish]

Institute (13th Doctor x reader) Part 8 (FINAL)

Summary: Gallifrey. The end. Word count: 2.5k AN: Final part, thank so much for all the love and support on everything. I never expected this or anything remotely close to this. Thank you! feel free to stick around to see what I have coming next- got a few 11 things planned. Hope you enjoy -Leo x Warnings: Violence, death Tags: @penguinwithitsarseonfire​ @startrekkingaroundasgard​

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5) (PART 6) (PART 7) MASTERLIST

Gallifrey was warm. The air hung around you, hot and heavy. Everything was burning. 

“You’re late,” The master growled “I looked into it you should’ve been here 3 hours ago,”

“The last time I checked I was still alive, nice try,” You smirked. He handcuffed you.

“Just so you don’t get any ideas, and because you dropped yourself off here, we’ve got a long walk. I can’t believe you screwed up your own execution” He pulled the vortex manipulator off your wrist and proceeded to stomp on it, severing your final lifeline. He grabbed you by the face, his rough fingers digging into your skin “I can’t wait to watch her face, as the light leaves your eyes,” He mumbled, dropping his hand suddenly, before yanking your arm, guiding you forward. The panic had then hit you. You were going to die and the Doctor was going to watch, you tried to pull against him, tried to run. Cursing and screaming. The Master’s grip only got tighter, you were crying in pain, trying desperately to pull away. Nothing was working. 

“Look, you can make this easier for you, or harder,” He said, pulling out the Tissue Compression device. So you walked. It could have been hours or moments, time seemed to bend around you. There was a weird glowing patch ahead of you, “We’re going through there when we see her. I need to prove to her I’m serious and that you’re bait,”

“Why did you destroy it?” You asked, monotone, you were not allowing him to win.

“Nothing to with you, humans, want to stick their noses into everyone’s business,”

“I’m about to die, it’s not like I have anyone to tell,” You argued

“Do you expect sympathy? None of them were shown any, and they actually belonged here. More than you can say considering you’re a walking corpse,” He hissed “and shut up will you.” 

 Something moved behind the portal, and speaking could faintly be heard. Without warning you were pulled to your feet, and pushed into it. The ground on the other side of the portal was rock and you discovered that, by falling nearly face first into it. The Master followed behind you closely, pulling you back up aggressively by the shoulder. 

“Now that was a good entrance, right? Right?” He nudged you as he spoke, trying desperately to gain a reaction from you“You should be afraid, everything is about to change,” He growled “Take my hand,” 

“Never, give me back (Y/N),” She hissed

“Not happening. I could just kill her on the spot and drag you through the boundary kicking and screaming after killing all your other little humans too. She’s going to die anyway, why can’t it be here?” He threatened, his tone of voice surprisingly calm

“Ok, fine, I’ll come with you but you hurt anyone of them and I won’t hesitate. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry,” 

“She won’t. Good luck, c’mon (Y/N),” He yanked your arm forward as the three of you crossed the boundary “Look upon my work Doctor, and despair,”

“Why did you do this? Why are you dragging (Y/N) into this? She doesn’t deserve it,” The Doctor questioned

“Not telling you,” He laughed “Well, I’ll tell you a little. Her death is a fixed point, and you’ve kept putting it off. I want to further the plans so to speak, keep everything ticking over. Also because I want to watch you suffer, for everything you’ve ever done,” 

“If you so much as hurt her I’ll-” 

The master cut her off “You’ll what? Kill me? Please. You couldn’t even hurt me when I tried to kill you on that plane. I’m your worst friend, your best enemy, she’s a human. She’ll die anyway.”

You just watched as they argued, you couldn’t run because you’d die faster, he’d just kill you from behind, you couldn’t stay because the master would kill you eventually so you just froze.You dared not cut into the conversation,you felt like child watching two adults fight and you were powerless to stop it.  You went dizzy, the weight of the situation heavy again, The doctor went to steady you, “No! You’re not going anywhere near her. Citadel. now,” 

The room was large, with various platforms around the room, You were dragged onto a smaller one, and the Doctor stepped onto a larger one, light beams curving around her. She hissed in pain, you went to run to her, you shin was met with a weighty kick. You fell to the ground, huffing. 

“Aw, what a sweet moment that would have been. But I think it’s time we begin now,” He growled, you grabbed your neck aggressively pulling you to your feet “any final words?” 

“I forgive you, you will blame yourself for this but I forgive you. Always and completely. I was bound to get caught up in this, the institute was never safe. I love you, don’t let this break you.” You spoke, directed all towards the Doctor.

“I do hate to break up a couple, but I have plans I’m afraid,” The Master smirked. You blinked. Reality slowed. There was pain. A sharp pain. An involuntary gasp. Pain. And so much blood. Pain. You fell to your knees first, then backwards. Pain. You couldn’t hear the screams of the Doctor or the laughs of the Master, only the fading heartbeat in your chest and shallow breaths.You could vaguely see her crying. Your vision blurred as you mumbled one final silent wish to the universe, ‘Keep her safe’.

You were gone. Another death on that distant planet.

Grey enveloped the Doctor. Ruth appeared in front of her.

“Oh great more traps and tricks. The matrix is deciding to mess with me again?” She huffed.

“You summoned me here, this isn’t the matrix,” Ruth replied “I understand it as much as you do.” Her voice was clear and not unkind when she spoke. “Where do you fit into this? Who are you? Are you my past? Or are you my future?”

“I don’t have the answers. Would it help you if I did? That doesn’t change who we are,” Ruth responded

“I mean yes it would-” She blinked. You now stood in front of her replacing Ruth,

“When have you ever been limited by who you were? When have you ever let it stop you?” She looked as if she’d been slapped, she simply wanted to memorise every detail of your face, before it faded and she had to come to terms with everything. 

“I can’t talk. I'm tired. I want to sleep, the field is taking the energy out of me,” She said drifting slightly. 

“Now’s not the time to be tired, old man. You know that. People have died, the city is burning, and you’ve left your friends,”

“I don’t know how to stop him,” She began, she wanted to walk towards you but she couldn’t the field holding her in place, “I've already lost you, who cares about the city? Who cares about anything else?”

“You can and will. Be who you always are, old man. Blow their minds. Be the Doctor,” You whispered “Think of me, from time to time though.” She remembered everything, meeting you, the institute, the cybermen, the trips to far flung planets, your smile, your friendships, your kindness. You.

“I love you, old man,” You pressed a final gentle kiss to her forehead. The field broke sending light everywhere. 

The Doctor was awoken to her friends standing over her and asking if she was alright.  

“Where is she? Where’s (Y/N)?” She asked her throat sore

“Doc, there’s no one else here? We figured the Master had taken her with him, if he hadn’t you know-” Graham responded panic creeping into his voice. She pulled herself to her feet quickly, the world merging into a mess of shapes. Your body had vanished. Time for a plan. 

“Live great lives,” The Doctor said as she backed out of the TARDIS and ran down a corridor. There the master stood cyber timelords circled around him. “I definitely said no plus ones. Where is she?” 

“What do you mean? I left her to rot. I thought it would nice to have a new world start with the blood of a human. A species you're so fond of, especially that one,” The master laughed “The cyberium lives in me now. I’ve won, broken you down”

“You think you've broken me? You'll have to try harder than that. You've given me a gift. Of myself. You think that could destroy me? You think that makes me lesser? It makes me more.” She hissed pulling out the detonator “I contain multitudes more than I ever thought or knew. You want me to be scared of it because you're scared of everything. But I am so much more than you. You took her from me and that’s where you’re wrong, I have nothing left to lose!” As she shouted, the master kneeled, pressing his head against the detonator “Do it, I want the universe to suffer because of you.”

The older man burst through the door, rambling about how he needed to do it and how she needed to go. She tried to argue and failed. The Doctor ran, stole a tardis and made it to safety. As she always did. 

It had been a handful of years since your death. The doctor had dipped in and out of time stream, taking you on dates to relive your time together. She dared to not visit Ryan, Yaz and Graham, they’d ask and she wouldn’t have answers. She sat in the cold tardis, fiddling with the controls as she tended to do now. No one to ramble to other than her ship. Electricity fizzed once again in the air, you materialised near the entrance of the ship. The TARDIS seemed colder than usual, emptier.

“What? Are you doing here?” She asked clearly shocked to see you

 “It dropped me off here- wait, damn, the ring,” You tapped the co-ordinates back into the vortex manipulator before disappearing and reappearing again in front of her.  

“So I’m being haunted now, I just dropped you off home after Cinter - purple planet sky, massive moon,” She explained

“I knew that was the wrong order,” You laughed “Not haunted. Hasn’t happened yet, for me, still on my deathbed, running late, I think, the coordinates keep switching,” 

“You’ll be fine. I’d prefer it if you were late, or even better, didn’t show up to it,”

“Where do I end up and who does it?” 

“It’s on Gallifrey, I presume you can figure the coordinates out. I tried to stop him, I tried,”

“Shhh it’s ok” You held her in your arms pressing a kiss to her forehead, tears welling in both of your eyes

“I saw bits of it twice,” She explained, she was crying now, at the long past memories for her.

“You know it’s a fixed point, I don’t know why you had to go to it twice, that’s weird even for you,” You laughed trying to calm her down

“The TARDIS dropped me off there. Not my idea of fun. Fixed point your death, and she’s drawn to it for some reason, maybe to keep me out of trouble,”

“She was always fond of me, even then,” You laughed, fingers spread on the console, “you know what they say about grief, you need to see things from a different perspective,”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I’ve worked it out- A message from her. This is why she prefers me,” You took her hand “My death is a fixed point, see it from a new perspective,” 

She froze, as you tapped at the time travel device “I love you, old man, and I’m sorry.” You whispered, unable to speak in a volume higher than that, you finally let go of her hand. 

“I love you-” She began. She didn’t finish the sentence before you had vanished from in front of her. The Doctor considered your words for a moment. For the first time in a long time she smiled. “So a new perspective, death, she just has to die,” She swung around to the otherside of the TARDIS pressing more buttons and flicking switches. 

Her tardis was in the citadel, one of the rooms that had been abandoned by the master, stuck in the state of murder. The Doctor’s breath caught in her throat; she did not want to be here. It came flooding back to her amongst the maze of corridors the unknowing the gut feeling of unknowing. She was running up the stairs, running to you. The only certainty left. Rounding the corner she saw you; what was left of you. She saw herself, her face distorting in pain within the truth field, unaware of the events outside it. As gently as she could, she picked up your body, she heard footsteps, the fam. She left the room as quickly as she could. 

The TARDIS welcomed her, encouraging noises coming from the console. She set off before anything else, she couldn’t have the risk of the others seeing her. You lay on the floor, pale, lips parted. If she didn’t know better she would have assumed you were sleeping. A glowing light slipped from her fingers, she gently placed her hand against your cheek, one final loving gesture, “I can’t lose you again. Come back to me, I love you,” She mumbled. There was a second. It felt like a thousand years. The Doctor held her breath the whole time, unable to move, solely focussing on you. Your chest rose slightly. You were breathing

You were kept in the medical bay and you finally woke up after three painfully long days. You wandered into the TARDIS console room, encouraging bleeps and bloops coming from her. 

“What happened? Did we damage the timeline?” Was all you managed to get out before you were tackled to the floor by a strong overwhelming hug. 

“You’re ok, you’re safe, I think I fixed it, you’re ok,” She mumbled into you

“Did I?” You asked the situation blurry

“Yes. I brought you back, I just need to know you’re ok,” 

“I’m fine, not a scratch on me, feeling the best I have felt in a while actually,” You were laughing now unable to contain the happiness you felt when you saw her. You stayed like that for a while, lying on the TARDIS floor a mixture of laughing and crying. 

“Travel with me, please,” She asked, her hand in your hair she asked, still lying next you.

“Of course I will. I’ll quit at the institute. I think it’s about time I took a step back. No more institute, time I lived a life rather than reading one.” You were pulled to your feet, and guided to the console by her, your ringless hand held within hers. She typed in coordinates, and pressed a few buttons “So, you can do the honours,” The Doctor pointed you towards the main switch. You grabbed her hand and placed it onto the switch with yours pulling it down, “We’re doing this. First stop - victorian England. Finally synced Together.”

[missbeautyandherbeast]

Leverage

Raphael X Reader (Soulmate AU)

Summary: Raphael’s name was written on your skin forever, but before you told him, he told you he didn’t have a soulmate tattoo. So you lied and denied you had one too. How could he be your soulmate if he didn’t have a tattoo? 

A/N: Hey so this is pure ANGST with a little fluff and slight +18 content at the end... slightly... anyway for this is for the lovely @oceans-daughter-3​ (I know it’s not fluff, but I had a dream and well here we are). I love you guys, let me know what you think!

Tags: @brightlotusmoon​ @boatloadsofheart @legandarybeauty​​ @crazywritingbug​​ @bitch-kms @ravn-87 @just-a-casual-fangirl-011​​ @unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox @ilikestuffproductions​ @whygz​ @coffee-addicti​​ @sugarspooks15 @leslieebee @serperiorkb@blossom-skies @fantastical-67impala-fangirl @coresan​ @big-banging-red​ @iceprincess2019​ @raphaeladdict​ @thirstyforvenom​ @merindagriese​ @depressedemo-152​ @bengewatch @corabmarie​ @bitemebro522​ @tmnt-queen​ @muleka-loka​ @violet-sky-96​ @curadopordeus​ @artemismohr18​ @thewhisperpen​ @xjupitermoonsx​ @bisexualbumblebeesstuff​ @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3​ @dixonreedusfangirlforever

“This is big.” I whispered. “This is... biological warfare big...”

“I just don’t know how he’s doing it,” Donnie muttered tapping on his screens. “If I figured that out, maybe I could stop it.”

“It doesn’t make sense though,” Raph scoffed. “Stockman has beef with Y/n and me, not all of New York... why would he do this?”

Raphael glanced over to me beside him and I quickly looked down, my cheeks flushing slightly. It was hard to deny the pivotal point that was Raphael in my life. What was worse was that his name was written in eternal ink on my skin.

Have I told him this? No. Was I going to? Not even close. For all the brothers knew, I didn’t have a soulmate tattoo. It was easy to fake, not everyone had one. Each of the brothers did... except Raph.

So, my tattoo wasn’t for him then. Who the hell it was supposed to be, I didn’t know. I didn’t want it to be anyone but him. I awaited the fate that would eventually prove that it wasn’t meant to be after all.

“Y/n are you listening?” Leo pulled me from my thoughts. 

“Huh? What? Yeah.” I gave a false smile.

“Space.” Raph teased.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Careful or I’ll use that tongue for something else,” He grinned making me flush bright red again 

“Will the two of you focus?” Leo scolded. “We need to figure this out, you two can flirt later.”

We both grumbled and looked down. My cheeks were still warm. Little did I know that so were Raphael’s.

_____________________________

“Pheromones” I whispered looking to Raphael. “That’s how he’s doing it.”

“Pheromones?” Donnie asked but I kept my eyes trained on Raph.

“They’re like... drugs, that make the mind give into instinct...” I stammered the explanation.

“I know what they are,” Donnie muttered. “I just don’t get why he’s not using them for... something more violent.”

“So, it’s a bad thing that he’s not using this for violence?” Raph mused, smirking at me. 

“Well, no...”

“And it’s not affecting us,” Raph pointed out.

“Shouldn’t they though?” I thought out loud. “Aren’t you guys like... more susceptible?”

“It’s not affecting you either,” Raph shot back. “Freak,” He muttered. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I haven’t been above ground since it all started, it’s not in my system,” I snapped and folded my arms. “but ya know I can go up right now.”

“No,” Both Donnie and Raph protested.

I raised an eyebrow at Raph. He just rolled his eyes.

________________________________

We stared down Stockman on a rooftop on New York.

I looked over to Raph, and he looked at me. We were both ourselves, not under the influence of Baxter’s weapon.

“It didn’t affect us,” I breathed out relieved.

“Well, of course it didn’t,” Raphael rolled his eyes and smiled at me.

“Well,” I smiled. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone.” That had to be a silver lining.

“On the contrary my dear,” Baxter laughed. “If I am so smart to create this pheromone don’t you think I would have tested it on the brothers? No, I have one for Raphael specifically. This is what the two of you deserve.”

“What?” I glanced over to Raphael. His eyes were squeezed shut, straining against some unseen thing.

“Raphael,” I took a step away from him, my hands going up in defense.

It wouldn’t be too bad right? The pheromones just made everyone else zombies... I’d be fine. He’d be fine.

Yeah, maybe I wasn’t convinced.

“Run.” He breathed out before his golden eyes snapped up to mine.

It was a second for me to process but I was too late. In that second, he grabbed me and threw me to the ground. I scrambled up looking for a way out. I couldn’t fight him. Even if I had the ability to, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

“Raph, come on,” I pleaded as he stalked towards me. We were predator and prey.

“Oh, won’t it be so sad. He’ll kill you, wake up, realize what he did... Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo,” Stockman sighed amused.

From the corner of my eye I saw the brothers hop into the roof, making their way towards us. 

“No! Stay back!” I called, keeping my eyes trained on sharp gold ones.

“Why?” Stockman laughed. “He has no aggression towards his family... you on the other hand never were his family,”

I froze in my tracks. His words broke me more than anything else could. I’d rather have Raphael kill me than believe those words.

“That’s not true Y/n. You know that,” Leo’s voice was the voice of reason.

I didn’t particularly listen though. I was too focused on the terrapin in front of me. I knew he could kill me. Easily. He knew how to, in many ways probably. Not probably... he did.

“Leo, one of us isn’t walking away from this,” my voice was surprisingly calm. “and it can’t be him,”

“You both can walk away from this,”

“No Leo,” Raphael’s voice was calm, cold. “She’s right. She’s not walking away from this.” His velvet voice purred the menacing words.

“Raphael,” I whispered. “I know he’s in your head. I know you’re giving into instinct. Please for once Raphael, be yourself! I’m begging you!”

He came at me viscously and I dodged out of the way. He swept around and knocked my feet out from under me. I fell back, my shoulder hitting the ground hard. I let out a cry and flinched waiting for the blow...

But it didn’t come.

I dared to open my eyes and saw Leo, Donnie, and Mikey holding Raphael back, forcing him to the ground.

Getting up I panted, rolling my shoulders out. Something had to be dislocated.

 “Think think think,” I whispered harshly. “How do I get you out of this.”

“The stuff he used... it has to do with scents yeah? Instinct?” Mikey struggled as Raphael tried to dislocate his arm.

“Yeah,” I took a small step back.

“Then kiss him!” Donnie shouted panting from the effort that it took to keep his brother contained.

“What!?” I demanded. “How is that going to solve anything?”

“Look anger and love are very close together. Passion is passion. Instinct is instinct. You have to snap him out of it!”

The three of them wrestled Raphael to his knees. He still struggled against them, his eyes stayed trained on me, furious growls radiating from his chest.

“Raphael doesn’t...!” I cried. “He doesn’t love me!”

“Bullshit,” Leo snapped. “Even if he didn’t, you love him, don’t you?” 

“Of course, I love him!” 

It was the first time that I had ever said the words out loud. They seemed final somehow. Those words were what were going to make or break me.

“Then you have to kiss him!”

The golden eyes that once held fury were now petrified as he stilled.

“Please, don’t let her do that,” his voice was a begged whisper that went deep into my soul. “Please I’m begging you don’t let her touch me,”

My heart shattered at the desperation in his voice. Shards of glass that pierced every part of who I was. I wanted to give in. How could I go against such an agonized plea?

“Raphael, don’t you do that to her,” Leo hissed. “Don’t you dare. You are playing a sick game.”

“One that I have to lose,” I whispered tears streaming down my face as my eyes tried to find Stockman, but he was gone.

“It’s okay Leo... Let him win. I’ll kiss him... but he has to win.”

I took the steps forward and knelt in front of him. I didn’t dare to look up. I could hear the faint sounds of his panting and low growl in his throat. My heart hammered in my chest.

This was it.

“I never loved you,” his voice hissed. “You were always too slow, too weak. Your emotions make you weak.”

I met callous golden eyes.

“I’d rather be weak than never feel at all,” my voice broke. “I’m sorry I have to do this Raph.”

My eyes flickered to the brothers, who all had some sort of pity on their faces. I shook the thought and looked back to Raphael.

“Come back to me,” I begged and reached out, my fingers caressing his face as I pressed my lips to his.

I had thought about what it would feel like to kiss him. Just once. Not that I’d ever imagine it to be like this.

His lips attacked mine, the same passion he had before in taking me down in battle returned behind his force of the kiss. But I wasn’t backing down. Not from this fight.

My fingers gripped his jaw tighter as my other hand came up to stoke his cheek, the edges of his mask, his jaw, anything that I could reach.

His hot breath entered my mouth and I almost lost focus as his tongue met mine.

Maybe this was a cruel game after all. Because this kiss was everything I wanted it to be and yet... it wasn’t right. It wasn’t Raphael. Not my Raphael anyway. Not my friend... and not the one written on my arm.

I felt tears slip down my cheeks as I pulled away, leaning against him slightly turning my face from him. I heard him take a sharp breath in.

The feeling of regret washed over me. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just let him kill me.

My hands fell into my lap where my eyes stayed trained. Until I stood walking away a bit, back turned to him.

“Let me go,” Raphael’s voice sounded strained. 

“What kind of idiot—”

“Let him go!” I demanded. “It’s fine. I... I already lost.” I looked up to the empty night sky. “I lost your game Stockman! Are you happy now!?” Tears streamed down my face as my heart wretched.

“Y/n,” Mikey tried. “Are you sure you want us to—”

“Do it.” I gritted out, trying to hold back the cries that wanted to escape.

Rough fingers found mine. I waited for the yank and drag down to the ground. For his aggression. It didn’t come. Instead it an easy tug to spin. I didn’t dare to look up.

Gentle hands caressed each side of my face. My eyes flashed up knowing these were my last moments. He would snap my neck easy. Or maybe choke me. His golden eyes would be the last thing I saw.

His thumbs brushed away the tears that were streaming down my face. I didn’t understand the gesture.

I closed my eyes waiting for death. The relief from pain that riddled my chest. But it didn’t come.

Instead he came back. His lips were back on mine seemingly picking up where our last kiss left off. The cruel kiss.

Though this one was just as rough it wasn’t cruel any longer. It was emotional and bare and raw.

I opened my eyes in surprise but left it all to reckless abandon and curled my arms back around him as he pulled me closer. I could feel the warmth radiating off of him. I whimpered into his mouth and he hummed a response gently stroking my cheek as if to calm and reassure me.

My anxiety ran wild not knowing if this was him or the one who wanted to kill me. When his hand slipped down my arm and to my waist using the leverage to pull me flush against him, I decided it didn’t matter.

I loved Raphael and I’d be damned if I’d let him wanting to kill me hinder that love. I’d be damned if I let a stupid tattoo stop me from loving him.

I heard someone clear their throat obviously somewhere around us. It was hard to differentiate because everything in my mind was blurred by Raphael. Every touch, every breath, every stammering heartbeat.

He pulled away however, his hot pants fanning my face. Both of our eyes were still closed as we sat there, foreheads resting against another, panting.

“Tell me that was real,��� I whispered. “Tell me or kill me,”

“That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” There was humor in his voice, a sly smirk on his lips.

“Raph!?” I gasped.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he grinned.

“Is it you? Please tell me it’s you,” There were tears in my eyes again. “I need it to be you,”

“It’s always been me hasn’t it?”

Though he said the words and they made sense in context I knew it wasn’t what he was referring to.

One of our first fights was because I refused to tell him anything about my tattoo. He saw right through my nonchalant lies and demanded to know who it was... I walked out instead of giving him an answer and it was about a week until I spoke to him again.

I nodded.

“It’s always been you,” I admitted defeat. “I’m so sorry Raph,” I whispered. 

“For?”

“What do you want me to apologize for? For kissing you? I’m sorry! For not letting you kill me? I’m sorry for that too! For ever having your stupid name on my arm!? I’m sorry! But I can’t apologize for loving you. Not anymore.”

“Baxter was right. You were never just family, Y/n,” He reached out and stroked my cheek. “You were always so much more than that.”

“Raphael don’t— don’t lie to me. Don’t play this game...” I whimpered, pulling away from him. 

“I’m not.”

“But how can... you don’t... I’m...” The cries that I had been holding back finally made their exodus.

“Will you stop crying and listen,” There was a slight tease to his voice, but it remained gentle.

I sniffed and looked up at him. He smiled, timid and unlatched the guard from his forearm and let it fall to the ground. He turned his arm over, palm up and I saw delicately etched into his skin...

My name.

“But... you said...” I wiped my eyes and took his arm, my fingers trailing over the letters of my name trying to make sense of it.

“I lied, I had to lie.” He tried.

“No, you didn’t.” My voice was hard and cold. “I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out why your name was on my arm and you had no tattoo! Do you know how scared I’ve been!? To know that I might lose you!? And you’ve kept this from me!?”

“Y/n, I’m... I’m sorry.” He whispered. “Please, believe me, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know...” 

I wrapped my arms around myself.

“Y/n,” It wasn’t Raph who pleaded to me, but Leo.

“Stay out of this,” Raph hissed.

“No, she needs to know,” Leo came up beside his brother. 

“Know what?” I asked hopelessly.

“It was my fault,” Leo spoke softly. “I’m the one who told him to lie... I gave him the order to. I wanted to keep you safe from us,”

“So, you lied to me? You made him lie to me?” I squeaked.

“We didn’t know Y/n, please,” Leo sighed. “Be mad at me, hate me, but don’t blame him. He just wanted to keep you safe”

My eyes met Raphael’s. I could see tears brimming into his eyes. This was it. What I decided to do would change... everything.

“Of course, I forgive you,” I whispered. “I love you Raphael, and God damn me for it, but I do,”

He let out a hopeless laugh and pulled me into a close hug, pressing his lips back to mine. I relaxed under his touch, melting into the kiss. It was slow and steady this time. We weren’t in any rush. The weight of the world didn’t depend on us.

He seemed to realize that too as he scooped me up into his arms, breaking the kiss and carrying me off towards my apartment.

“I really am sorry,” He murmured into my skin as we curled up in my bed. 

“I’m sorry too,” I whispered, stroking my name on his skin, marveling at it.

There were no walls between us now. We were bare to each other. No more dancing around the topic, no more stolen glances and awkward moments.

“When did you... tonight... the first kiss did it...?” I asked quietly. He smiled and stroked my hair.

“It did... by the time you pulled away, it was fading and all I could see was you... I clung to that. To you,”

I looked down and suppressed a smile, my cheeks flushing. His hand gently came up and tilted my chin back up so that I would look at him.

“Don’t hide from me,” He teased. “I love seeing you blush,”

“You make me do it so often,” I mumbled.

“I know,” He grinned smugly.

I made a face and stuck my tongue out at him. A playful growl left his lips.

“I think I told you not to do that,” He rolled over me, pinning me to the bed, holding his own weight so that all I felt was his warmth.

“Mmm. I think you told me to be careful about doing it,” I smirked, “but I’m done being careful around you,” I murmured, leaning up pressing a kiss to his lips.

He chuckled against my lips and followed me as I laid back, still kissing him. It was soft and slow, our breaths intermingling and our tongues figuring out how to dance with each other.

I small moan slipped from my throat as once again he consumed every thought and every sense I had. He matched my small moan with a light growl one of his hands trailing down my figure, sending a shiver down my spine—the other kept my hands pinned.

My breathing quickened and I had to pull away, my eyes meeting warm amber ones.

“You’re beautiful,” He murmured softly, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Amazing,”—another kiss— “Smart,”—I turned my head to give him better leverage as he continued down my neck—“Sexy,”—kiss—“extraordinary,”—his tongue ran along my collar bone and a gasp escaped my lips— “and mine,”

.

.

Like my writing? Want more? Here’s my masterlist!

[maple-writes]

Dissidia March 2021: Week 3

Ignore that I’m posting this at midnight

Thanks again @onmywaytobe for working with me on this one, and @dissidia-writeblr for working with me too and hosting!

###

Seemingly pleased with their agreement, Tidis led Warren and Leo through the maze-like hallways of the building without a word. This hall looked just the same as any other, boring and grey. They looked away from Tidis’ back and very real wings to Leo, walking without a word beside them. He sure had agreed to this deal quickly, hadn’t he? Leo must not have thought anything seemed off, not with the soldiers, or what Tidis said in the office. Or maybe…

“Feel free to ignore me if you want,” they paused a second as Leo turned. “But is there something you’re hoping they can help you with?”

Leo stumbled, frozen mid step before regaining his stride. “I’ve been sick my whole life. I want to know what it would be like if I wasn’t.”

“Really?” His whole life huh. “That’s tough.”

A couple workers passed by, lowering their heads as they passed. Warren frowned. Everyone they passed seemed to do that. None dared look directly at the three of them. Even if Tidis was pretty high up here, did it really make sense for everyone else to avert their eyes? They’d been to a few conferences and events with some very high ranking officials and they’d never felt the need to hide their face. Sure they weren’t super keen to be friends with all of them but still, never avoided them like this. Even when Indigo brought him to parliament once to assist her on some proposal and they ended up running into the prime minister while Indigo was occupied she’d acknowledged them. She probably forgot their name soon after they’d met but she’d been cordial.

They pushed the thought away. Leo didn’t seem to notice anything wrong after all. “I hope this works then.” For his sake they hoped they were just overthinking things.

“Yeah. Me too.” Leo mumbled. They paused, footsteps echoing a moment before he spoke again. “Why are you going with this guy? Are you sick too?”

They shrugged. “Not really.” At this point there wasn’t much they could think of changing. These last few years they’d felt better than ever. “But I don’t like the idea of wandering alone until whenever it is we end up going home.”

“Fair enough.” Leo nodded, then fell quiet as they approached a heavy looking door at the end of the hall.

The door opened up to a hanger, tall and wide with a good-sized ship sitting in the center, one that looked equipped for travel outside the atmosphere. Maybe. Volt said something once about that kind of patterning on the exterior panels having something to do with the conditions out in space, but most of it hadn’t stuck. Tidis led them to the entry ramp and gestured for the both of them to enter, hanging back to say something to one of the many soldiers milling about the hanger. Two stood talking near the ramp, turning away when Warren and Leo got close.

The soldiers hadn’t seemed to notice them, startling and bumping into the both of them, apologizing profusely and hurrying away. Warren glanced back at them as they disappeared into some other part of the hanger. Maybe they were new.

“Did you feel that?” Leo hissed.

“Feel what?”

Leo lowered his voice, private between the two of them. “Those guys just put something in my pocket.”

He fished out a piece of paper and Warren followed. Something brushed the tips of their fingers. Another piece of paper, identical to Leo’s. They unfolded it and read the note scribbled on the scrap of paper.

We will help you out when we can.

Shit. “This doesn’t seem good.”

Leo looked up from his own note, but neither dared say another word as Tidis came up behind them, ushering them up the ramp and into the ship.

Inside the ship was clean, well lit and roomy, a far cry from Volt’s ship with it’s narrow halls and clear leaning for functionality over looks. Compared to the Lord of Chaos this ship felt far more streamlined and coordinated, but the note in their pocket seemed to burn against their leg. We will help you out when we can. The war, Tidis’ talk of letting them go home, the way no one dared look him in the eyes… He didn’t leave them, hovering behind both their backs and sending chills crawling up and down their back.

He brought them further into the ship as it took off, a low rumble coursing faint from the engines. “This is the moon we live on.”

Warren looked up from their shoes to where Tidis gestured out a little window. It grew larger every second. Every second further away from whatever planet they’d just left and the two soldiers claiming to be coming to help them.

Tidis didn’t seem to notice either their or Leo’s silence. “We study the magic up here. We’re the only ones who have gotten the magic of this world. At least from what we know.” He smiled, all polite without sincerity. “We’ll be separating you to ask questions. I hope you don’t mind.”

He nodded at someone else, a woman with the same kind of wings who gently turned Leo to follow her. Tidis himself waved Warren after him. They glanced back at Leo but he was already gone.

Warren’s stomach twisted, but they kept their head down and did as Tidis wanted. Whoever those two soldiers were, they’d promised they weren’t alone up here, whatever that meant. Whatever happened it would probably be best if Tidis didn’t know. If he didn’t think they knew anything.

The ship landed and Warren followed Tidis into a little room off the side of the main hanger. He shut the door behind him, turning to face them with a smile.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” Tidis paused a moment, opening a drawer and taking out black chains. “We will not actually be letting you go back. We have other plans for you.”

Warren’s breath caught and they ran back, dropping their mug to clang loud on the ground. Their back hit the wall and they stared, eyes locked on the chains in his hands. This was worse than they thought. “What are you talking about?” They glanced at the door shut and blocked by Tidis and his wings that suddenly seemed very, very broad.

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good.

Tidis laughed, sharp and villainous. “In summary, I lied to you. This world’s magical balance has been ruined, and the only way we can fix it is to find people who can take the magic. Mostly people who have been summoned.” His eyes sharpened with his grin down at Warren. “So, we’ll use you for our own ends.”

Shit. They eyed the chains in Tidis’ hands, dark and heavy looking. Those were for them. For them. Their heart ran faster, too loud in their ears. Whatever he meant for them if he thought he’d need to use those to restrain them—

“No, no, I…” Horror rose in their throat, cutting off their air and blocking their thoughts. “I don’t want to.” They swallowed. “Don’t.”

But Tidis didn’t seem to care, approaching with a too-casual step and a fake-soothing voice. “This won’t hurt a bit. These chains just negate anything from your own world, be it magic or tech. We will be keeping you until the procedure is ready.”

Procedure. Chills ran down their back and their blood ran cold. What did he mean by procedure?

Tidis cocked his head. “Do you have anyone from your world who you’d like to have to keep you company? We wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”

No. They pressed themself against the wall, clenching their jaw. No way they were going to tell him anything.

“Unfortunate.” Tidis lamented. “Maybe we’ll hear you crying out for them later.”

Warren glared. Over their dead body they’d give him anything. But they bit back the retort, lowered their head and stood still as Tidis chained their hands and led them out of the room. They followed along with what Tidis wanted, pliant and quiet. Whatever he was planning to do to them they didn’t to give him any reason to make it worse.

Tidis brought them to a little cell and left them there with an insecure suggestion to make themselves at home. Slowly, Warren backed into the cell and settled down as best they could.

How long until he came back? Warren bunched their shoulders and stared out at the far wall. Whoever those soldiers were, the ones that planted that note, how long would they take? If they came at all. Shit. How had they been so stupid? Of course this was a set up. Of course it was. Why would anyone just trust two unknowns arriving out of nowhere in a war zone? Why hadn’t they said anything when Tidis said he’d let them go home if they helped him? Or anything about the way everyone seemed scared of him? Shit. Shit. Had they been lying even about how they could help Leo? Bastards.

They wanted to go home. If only this was a dream. If only.

No one would know what happened to them back home. They’d just have vanished into thin air never to be seen again. Warren swallowed against the lump rising sharp in their throat. Volt, Skyler, how would they find out? Their parents would know they were missing when they didn’t show up for their weekly lunch together at the very least, but Volt? All she’d have would be missed calls and no idea what happened.

They sighed, shifting around in attempt to get comfortable. Not like there was anything to do but wait and hope whoever those two soldiers were really went through with their promise. Hopefully they got here soon.

[writer-and-artist27]

One Lostbelt King to Another

Summary: Scathach-Skadi came from a world that never saw an end and Humanity’s last hope dying alone. To see one of the creators of said worlds discard the Yaga as nothing while baiting a little one into becoming a murderer, she cannot stand for it. Not when said little one gave Skadi another meaning to the word “love.”

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Note: Inspired by this comic and how Skadi came to my Chaldea back in Epic of Remnant. Roughly based on my experience going into the Grand Battle of Lostbelt 1, where Skadi and Achilles were the front-liners on my team to beat Anastasia, well... Writing this felt good.

And, hey, since I’m publishing this just when I finished Lostbelt 2 and finally ascended Skadi to her final form, I’d like to think this is a small thank you to the purple-haired Caster who came to Chaldea when she was needed the most. This is also based off of a headcanon that Leo had given me once, where my Skadi came to me before any version of me encountered the Lostbelts, so she saw a doomed future. Thus, this story happens.

For those not in the know, this oneshot is a distant sequel to all my previous Fate/Grand Order works, and giant spoiler warning for the ending of Lostbelt 1 and certain plot elements of Lostbelt 2. 

Dedicated to @withanina​, who’s seen me through my own journey in this very tumultuous mobile game. 

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Patxi had fallen first, his snout buried in the snow and a smile stuck to his dead face. Blood was already staining the white snow red, and no one said anything except for the occasional sob from the Chaldean Master. 

It would’ve been the perfect time to strike.

But before anyone could say anything, a rune was already writing itself into the cold Russian air. Kadoc could faintly make out the purple shimmer that read destruction before Anastasia was being thrown back, and he felt himself scream before he could hear it.

“ANASTASIA!” 

He didn’t realize how painful it was to hold up his Command Spells for supporting his Servant until she appeared with a gust of cold wind in front of Humanity’s last Master.

It was supposed to be impossible.

Vy, a simple foolish girl who shouldn’t have amounted to anything, shouldn’t have had that Servant come to her aid. That Servant should have been in Ophelia’s Lostbelt over in Scandinavia. Not in Russia, not here. She shouldn’t have been helping a girl who was fighting for Proper Human History.

“You…” Anastasia was just as shocked too, if her wide eyes were any indication. “You are a Lostbelt King. You shouldn’t be here.”

Scathach-Skadi simply brushed some snow off her purple dress as Vy slowly stood up from her knees, tears in her eyes. “Skadi…sama?”

“Either I have lost my hearing or I must have heard something insignificant. Nonetheless, I am here.” Skadi turned her back on them and Kadoc grit his teeth. She was — she was underestimating Anastasia. She was underestimating him, Kadoc Zemlupus, as an opponent in favor of focusing on the weaker, crybaby Master. What was going on here? Why was she— 

Mash Kyrielight let out a shaky breath. “Skadi-san, you—” 

Skadi sighed. “Hm. You seem to have found yourself in another troubling situation, little one. Your shield maiden has certainly grown tired.” No one in the cold area missed how the Lostbelt Servant’s voice softened in Vy’s direction as she brushed her ponytail back past her shoulders. “Allow me to help you once more, especially in defeating an insect who dares call herself a Tsar.” 

“Insect...!?” Kadoc could see Anastasia bristle before he could feel it in his hands through her shoulders, and she clutched Viy to her chest. “How dare you call me an insect! You shouldn’t be fighting for Proper Human History!” 

“You certainly act like an insect, along with your pitiful sight of a Master, Tsaritza.” Skadi sighed again, reaching out to Vy with one hand to help bring her back to her feet and steady her. “How very much like a mere rat to not even know what you have follied in. To know I share a former title with you is now a burden of shame on my shoulders that I feel the great need to brush away.” Skadi then shook her head. The motion was almost like a mother disappointed with her child. “Who I side with is none of your business.”

Great. Another nutcase in Vy’s favor. 

A single tear rolled down Vy’s cheek as she continued to stare up at the Servant in front of her. What a fool. “Um… Skadi-sama?”

“Not that honorific, little one,” Skadi said without skipping a beat, briefly turning around to press one gentle hand against Vy’s head, patting her hair. Her voice had softened all over again. “‘-san’ is sufficient. ‘Skadi-san.’ Otherwise, please do not force yourself any more. You have done enough for now.”

“But— But I—” 

Kadoc felt himself go silent once Skadi reached over to press a soft kiss to the top of Vy’s hair. Kyrielight gasped, Kadoc felt bile start to climb up his throat. What the fuck am I seeing right now? 

Anastasia hugged Viy tighter to herself once Skadi stepped back, and by then, Kadoc could clearly make out the horrible, ugly red that stained Vy’s cheeks. “Sk-Skadi-san?”

“Good child. Now stand back.” The Lostbelt Servant smiled before slowly turning to meet Kadoc’s eyes. And, for the first time in his life, Kadoc felt a shiver travel up his spine. “I will handle this.”

If there was a descriptor for “godly bloodlust,” then perhaps the dictionaries in Lostbelt histories should have included Scathach-Skadi’s name. 

“You vile Crypter,” Skadi whispered vehemently, raising her wand. “How dare you traumatize one of my children and give so many others false hope.”

“False? How is it false when—”

“It is false when these lines of history are doomed to die, vermin,” Skadi hissed. Without a single ounce of hesitation, Skadi then pushed her ponytail back to write another rune in the air, clearly one that was Primordial, and Kadoc raised his hand without thinking. “To give the people of these Lostbelts false hope of living alone in victory is a crime deserving of divine punishment. You made all of us think we could live again in a miracle. But no. We were all doomed from the very beginning, even if the Trees of Emptiness grew, and you dared to make us believe that we could survive. You deserve far more than divine punishment.” 

Kadoc wasn’t expecting the newly made rune to go to Vy and Kyrielight of all people. He should’ve expected it, but for some reason, his legs couldn’t move. The Ortinax armor glowed a soft purple hue, accentuating the shock in Kyrielight’s eyes transforming into grim, fierce determination as she then ran to place her shield in front of her silent Master. “Senpai, please stay behind me. Everything will be alright, I-I promise. I’m here.” Kyrielight then threw her head towards the towering purple-haired Caster. “Skadi-san?”

“Shield maiden, protect the little one for me,” Skadi said softly, shaking her head. Her wand was raised, poised to write in the air again. “I have some insects I must swat.”

“R-Roger that, Skadi-san!” 

“…I don’t understand. My Master is doing the right thing in trying to raise the Tree of Emptiness and expanding our Russian Lostbelt. You should know this since you are — were a Lostbelt Servant, Scathach-Skadi.” Anastasia said finally, narrowing her eyes at the opposing queen. “You should know just as well as I do of the responsibility that comes with trying to prevail with our worlds.”

“Do not call me by that title when I have already lost my world,” Skadi snapped darkly, and this time, Anastasia stopped. Kadoc felt his blood freeze too because the Russian air seemed all the more colder. What did she just say? “I lost my subjects — my people, my Scandinavia — no thanks to you insects. Surtr destroyed everything with his flames and you Crypters did not even care in my reality. You left me — all of us — to die.” Skadi shook her head, waving her free hand to create the beginnings of a giant icicle behind her. “It was only when I lost everything to the flames that I found another chance. It was through my folly that I found this little one in the wreckage of Chaldea.” 

This time, Skadi didn’t turn back to meet Vy’s eyes. The fighting stance Skadi was in didn’t allow for that. Kadoc could easily read the emotions on Vy’s face, from the awe to surprise to tired resignation, and even then, there was a touched glimmer in those brown eyes behind the long brown hair and black glasses that had him reeling. 

“I had thought that I knew what it meant to love in that miracle of my Scandinavia. To kill and to love. But I was wrong. You all were wrong.” Skadi nodded to herself, closing her eyes as she turned back to face the battlefield. She pressed her free hand to her chest. “Love is to care for others outside of yourself. Love is asking what one can do to help, even when you are weak and unsure. Love is enjoying every day of life as it comes in the world. Love is—”

Selfless. 

“Love is making sea-salt ice cream together and laughing over the failures,” Skadi finished.

Kadoc blinked. Anastasia did too, lowering Viy. “…What?”

“Of course you two wouldn’t understand. You gave up your humanity just to make this long journey to validate your own selves. How pitiful.” Skadi wrote another few runes in the air with her wand, the purple glow accentuating the glare in her violet red eyes. The giant icicle behind her head seemed to grow all the more massive. “Making a nightmare of others’ lives, killing more than 7 billion people in reality, and then villainizing the one girl who is trying to give a form of salvation to all living this hell? Disgusting. Not even worth my time and love.” 

Kadoc bit the inside of his cheek enough to taste metal. “Why you—”

“That is enough, Skadi. Even if you are a former Lostbelt Servant, I will not tolerate you insulting my Master,” Anastasia interrupted, brushing her cape behind her. Viy was already emitting a dark aura. “You will all die here.”

“No,” Skadi smiled for the first time Kadoc had seen, and Kadoc grit his teeth once his eyes suddenly focused in on the green hair and orange scarf hovering behind the purple-haired mage. No way. “You both will perish under my heel. I am not the only one here to put you out of your misery.” 

No way.

Vy wasn’t supposed to be able to summon Heroic Spirits bordering on the powers of Gods. She wasn’t strong enough. 

So then— 

“Both our heels,” Achilles of Greece suddenly interrupted, and with that green spear shouldered between his neck and shining gold armor, the smirk on his face matched Skadi’s smile as he raised one fist in the air towards Kadoc’s direction. “Because you two did something worse than give people false hope.”

“Indeed, famous Hero of the Trojan War,” Skadi hummed, the Runes in front of her immediately flying over to the allied Rider, “they follied more than they thought.”

Achilles rolled his eyes, lightly elbowing Skadi in the side once the Runes stuck to his chest armor and disappeared, and Kadoc couldn’t believe his eyes. These two Servants — they were familiar? A Lostbelt Servant and a weak Servant from Proper Human History — they could be friendly? “Cut the cutesy language, Skadi. We know what we have to do.”

Vy gripped her hands behind all the Servants as her Command Spells glowed against her black Mystic Code, tears still in her eyes. 

“Of course. May you take the first blood, Achilles?” Skadi said softly. “Teach these insects how they could not have prevented the Incineration of Humanity with their follies.”

“Sure.” Achilles then grinned and leapt forward, and Kadoc found himself yelling out once the back end of that same green spear was nearly in his face if not for Anastasia. “You two jerks have a lot to answer for, y’know.” The words were said casually, almost too casually when considering the amount of strength being used to handle the spear so close to Kadoc’s person and Anastasia’s pained grunts under the weight. 

“I-I have no idea what you are prattling about, Hero,” Anastasia growled. “Viy—” 

“Oh? I’m wounded, miss Tsar.” Achilles then kicked Anastasia hard and Kadoc felt himself flying too once Anastasia collided with him. If not for the Russian winds and dodging the sudden ice projectile coming towards him, he might not have heard it.

“You hurt our Master. Our kind, workaholic Master who should’ve rested back at home with her family once Goetia disappeared. But instead of helping her, you took her home away from home in Chaldea and hurt Mash by killing the only familial figure she had left. So, what happens after this is simple.” Kadoc clutched Anastasia to his chest once they landed in the snow. Achilles then put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Kadoc could feel the blood start to rush to his head once that chariot came with the fanfare of loud green lightning and horse neighing.

Noble Phantasm. Shit.

“You hurt our family, you die.” 

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[Image Description: A screenshot of a team lineup in Fate/Grand Order, simply titled “Front Line.” The Servants in the lineup include, from left to right: Scathach Skadi, Achilles, Marie Antoinette, Chevalier d’Eon, and Mash Kyrielight in her Ortinax costume. End Description.]

This is the least I can do for the Servants who helped me through some of the hardest fights I’ve had emotionally. This isn’t a full replication of the team I used when going into fighting Kadoc and Anastasia, but the main players of Skadi, Mash, and Achilles are here at least. 

Let’s go save the world, everyone. Thank you for staying.

[moonlightflower21]

Always, Part 5

A/N: here you go :) not sure if its the best... but i tried :P

Part 1- X

Part 2- X

Part 3- X

Part 4- X

You rubbed your wrists, wincing slightly when your fingers grazed over the growing purple bruises. All three brothers asked questions, some relating to why you were here and others as to why you had avoided them. Yet one of them couldn't meet your gaze, not after that unfortunate night.

You took a shaky breath in, they had to shut up before your mind would go blank and freeze. They wanted answers to questions you couldn't provide, they wanted reasons that you couldn't bring yourself to say. Because either way, you sounded like the bad guy. The one who flaked on them without a good enough excuse. The one who left them when they needed you.

"Well, isn't this precious..." a chuckle came from the right side of the room, grabbing all your attention. You saw the boys instinctively reach for their weapons and subtly come closer to you. Behind, her army of footbots stood, their weapons glinting underneath the lights. Without warning, they ran towards you all at full speed. But their attacks were different, they were more skilled than you had remembered. You all were able to fight them off but they kept trickling in. After you fought one another ten would arrive and slowly, the muscles and joints in your body began to ache. Before you could even think, they had restrained you down harshly to the floor and making you all watch Karai who was perched upon a desk with a grin painted upon her ruby lips.

"What the-" Leo grunted when they surrounded his body, forcing him on his knees and kneeling upright watching the scene unfold. Annoyed and angry responses were heard all around the room yet Karai kept her eyes solely on you. Despite you glaring at her, she still maintained that sickly sweet smile making you want to punch her straight in the face.

"What??" You snapped irritably, looking at her dead in the eye. The skin around your wrists were beginning to burn from where they were tied together. It didn't help the army of footbots pinning you down kept making the chain tighter.

"He ignored you, didn't he?" She asked, a wicked grin plastered upon her face. She didn't even bother beating around the bush, just straight to the point. Your blood froze, hearing that sentence. How did she know about everything?

"What's his name?... ah yes, Donatello" she continued, an airy laugh blew through her lips when she saw the pain flash on your facial features mentioning his name. God, you wanted to kill her. You dared a glance at Donnie who's eyes watched Karai, but even they couldn't hide the pain nor the sadness in them.

"What-what's goin' on?" Raphael narrowed his amber irises between his brother and you and the supposed secret that their enemy knew. Didn't he know? Wasn't it obvious? "What do you want?" You whispered, clenching your fists tightly behind your back.

"Glad you asked. I want you, a perfect little assistant. I know you know information, information that could destroy these turtles and their master-" "Don't you think about it, Karai!" Leo growled, trying to unbuckle himself from their grip but they were strong. He didn't have enough energy to hold back the crowd of footbots holding him back.

"And if I don't?" You asked and she stood, walking towards you. "Well, then you'd be of no use to me or really anyone. Actually I could give your friends a little demonstration right now..." She smirked, cocking her gun and aiming straight at your forehead.

"No stop!" You heard pleas and commands from the turtles, shouting at her to stop. "It's your choice, darling. My way or death" she patted your head, bending to your level. You didn't have a choice, it was clear that you would lose either way.

"Okay, I-I'll help you..." You whispered and the brothers eyes widened in shock, wondering if they heard you right. "What?? Dudette what the heck are you doing??" Mikey struggled against the grip, his eyes widening in shock when he saw you standing up. You couldn't meet his gaze, the hurt in his eyes would be too much to handle in this moment. But you knew it was for the best. You threw the chains off your arms, wincing when the pressure of them alleviated on your wrists. Bands of purple and red covered your arms and hands and you were pretty sure blood was stuck to them.

"Well, well turtles. Your little companion hardly took much persuasion" she drawled on, while you stood behind her. She walked to Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikey's, their faces were startled genuinely and completely shocked at your behaviour. Your eyes met with Donnie's for the first time in a long time and you wish you hadn't looked. Looking in his eyes reminded you of the feelings you had tried to hide and forget about. All those memories bubbled to surface and it took everything in you not to shatter and crumble giving Karai the satisfaction of watching you break. You looked away, hearing everything he had out put through.

"What are you doin', Y/N??" Raph hissed at you, his own heart beating fast at the betrayal. He didn't want to believe you could so easily be swayed for the enemy; none of them did.

"I-I know what Donnie did to you was wrong, but what you're doing is a mistake too, Y/N!" Leo yelled, baffled at your own actions. You took a breath and ignored them, you had to concentrate on how to get them all out of here.

Donnie was no better, his jaw slacked as he saw you with Karai. Had his actions compelled you to commit such betrayal against them? There was so much he wanted to say but it was impossible, you couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore. But when you did, even for a second, he was so close to allowing his own tears to fall. He remembered how you used to look at him with love and happiness, now in place was hurt and anger. And just like that, you looked away as if he hadn't existed. As if the relationship you both had never existed.

"I must admit, you turned your back rather easily" Karai smirked, sitting up on the table once more. You just nodded, looking around for a weapon to use but your eyes caught sight some shattered pieces of glass and the chain they held you in. Yet that gave you an idea. Looking at Karai, she seemed distracted as she taunted the turtles.

There were two footbots soldiers behind you, their eyes trained upon your every move. You placed the glass piece in your pocket, you would use that later. You subtly walked backwards, away from her line of sight as she focused on the turtles. The soldiers followed you, gripping your arms tightly. You kneed one of them harshly, throwing it back to the other one. They stumbled, pushing you down with them. Their grip on you was tight, almost restricting. "Get the fuck off of me" you hissed,

"She's on our side, the information she must know about you all must be absolutely priceless..." Karai grinned, walking by the turtles. You had to hurry, you did not have as much time as you would have liked. Using some of the skills you had learnt with the turtles, you kicked them back down and tied up their bodies as best as you could have possibly done with the chain. They didn’t matter much, it was Karai who you had to focus on. So walking back to her and the turtles, you kept the glass piece hidden in your hand. She yanked you close to her side, her scent filling your nostrils as she forced you to watch the turtles. a slight hint of a smirk stayed on your lips, toying with the glass piece until you had the proper grip on it.

Mikey and Raph looked at you suspiciously, Leo and Donnie's eyes were fixated on Karai, hoping she wouldn't do anything rash. Karai turned her head ordering something to her footclan, this was your chance. With every remaining ounce of energy in your body, you plunged the glass deep within her thigh hoping it penetrated the thick leather trousers she had on. And you were right. She screamed painfully, throwing your body forwards but you caught yourself easily.

"You bitch!" She sneered, a hand wrapped tight around her thigh hoping it would stop the profuse blood flow and another on the handle of her dagger.

"Watch out!" Donnie blurted and your heart clenched deep within your chest hearing him say your name again. Her weapon barely passed you, slicing the first layer of your skin. The blood seeped through your jeans and you hissed in pain when any pressure was applied. But you couldn't think about that, you didn't want to be here any longer than you needed to be. Looking at her coiled up in the floor with a puddle of blood surrounding her, you let out a chuckle slightly limping towards her.

"Get up" you snarled, grabbing her hair and pulling her body upwards. She winced, standing almost immediately. "You must be dense if you think I would fight for you" You collared her shirt, looking at her dead in the eye before turning towards her footbots.

"Let them go or I'll kill her" you ordered and they hesitantly looked from you to Karai and then to the turtles. "Don't let them go!" Karai tried to call out but you kneed her abdomen, knocking the air out of her. She fell to the ground and you yanked her hair back, anger and exhaustion settling in your body.

"You better shut the hell up before this knife plunges so far deep in you" you hissed, placing the tip of the blade taught against the pulse point in her neck. Looking back at her army, you pointed the blade in their direction menacingly. "Now, let them go or you'll see her in pieces all over the floor" you instructed, your tone clear and sharp to prove that you weren't messing around. They hesitated but listened, freeing the turtles who pushed them back abruptly. They looked at you and you looked at Karai, wincing and groaning in pain before your eyes met theirs. 

"Time to get the hell out of here"

[440mxs-wife]

Girls Night

You had been cleaning the bunker for the past two weeks, room by room. It was your turn to host the "Girls Night" this month, and you wanted it to be perfect. So far, you had heard from Donna, Jody, Charlie and Rowena, who all said they'd be there and were looking forward to it. Anael (Sister Jo) had just called you today and said she would be there. You even asked Mary, because you wanted to get to know her better and you loved her boys. Especially one in particular.

Last week, you checked to see that you had all your provisions. You were having cheesecake bites, chips and salsa and your fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. You had ordered pizza, which Charlie agreed to pick up in town for you. Everyone texted you their favorite drink, so you made sure to have that on hand as well. Beer for Donna, Jody, Mary and Charlie, red wine for Rowena, strawberry daiquiri mix for Anael and margarita mix for you.

You also made sure that the spare rooms were all made up with freshly-washed sheets, in case anyone wanted or needed to sleep over. You were extremely excited about hosting the party this time, but a little nervous, because Mary would also be attending. You knew that alcohol tended to loosen tongues, and you didn't want a certain secret to be blurted out for her to hear.

It had to do with Dean and your feelings for him. You've been hunting with Sam and Dean for the past 8 years, after having hunted by yourself since you were 17. At first, you and Dean didn't get along at all, due to your past experience with male hunters. Usually, they charged ahead and tried to leave you behind. It was arrogant macho crap, and you detested it.

Dean tried to do that when you were hunting a wendigo together, but you ended up rescuing him and Sam by torching the monster. After that, you and the boys had an unspoken agreement: equal partners, no macho crap. For the most part, you were able to keep to the arrangement, with a few exceptions, such as when you needed a bit of rescue.

Sam and Dean never let you forget it, either, especially not this last hunt with the werewolf. It had knocked the boys against the wall, leaving them a bit dazed. You were so focused on making sure they were okay, that you missed the second werewolf, its mate. She sliced her claws into your side, then knocked you over. That caused your .380 with the silver bullets to go sliding across the floor. Fortunately, it was within Dean's reach, so he took care of both creatures, then came to check on you.

Once you got back to the Impala, you were placed gently in the back seat. As Dean drove back to the bunker, he let loose with a lecture to you. All about how you didn't pay attention and what you should've done instead. He was upset that your carelessness ended with you getting hurt. He pointed out that the "arrogant macho crap" actually saved your ass this time.

You listened to his arguments, and for once, you actually agreed with him. You were upset with yourself for getting hurt by not paying close enough attention. During his lecture, you drifted in and out of consciousness, with as much blood as you'd lost. That meant that you didn't see that Dean breathed a sigh of relief that you were still alive. As he drove, he kept checking on you every so often through the rearview mirror of the Impala.

When you got back to the bunker, Dean took you right to the infirmary and Sam carefully stitched you up. Dean stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand, not minding if you squeezed his to get through the pain of the stitches. As tender as those moments were, though, it was back to business as usual after Sam was done patching you up. Dean seemed to be even more guarded than ever around you, almost like he was trying to avoid you.

Jody and Donna were the first to arrive, and it looked like they had both packed an overnight bag. You greeted them with hugs, and showed them to their rooms. You told them to meet you in the kitchen, where you would hook them up with a beer to get started.

As you made your way back to the kitchen, Mary caught up with you. "Thank you for including me on this. I don't have many female friends to speak of, but I know that the ladies that will be here tonight are good friends of yours and my sons," she smiled. "I'm looking forward to getting to know them better, and you, of course," she added.

"It's my pleasure, Mary, I'm glad you could join us. Sometimes there's just a little too much testosterone flowing in this place, especially when Castiel shows up," you explained with a grin. "Makes me want to hide in my room with a book," you laughed, as Mary joined in.

"Everything looks great, is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"Yes, there is," you replied. "Have fun," you whispered then winked at her as you continued on your way to the kitchen.

Anael was the next to arrive, also with an overnight bag, so you asked Mary to show her to one of the empty rooms. In the meantime, Rowena made a graceful entrance and made herself comfy in your favorite reading chair.

You had just served Rowena her red wine, when suddenly the bunker door flew open with a bang. "What's up bitches!?!" shouted Charlie, pizzas in hand. She bounced down the spiral staircase, careful not to drop the pizzas and announced, "Let's eat!"

Everything was set up in the kitchen with the pizzas and other snacks, so you handed out plates to everyone. Once plates were filled, you all adjourned to the living room for more comfortable seating.

"So, where are the guys?" Jody asked.

"In town. Dean's meeting up with his friend, Leo Webb. Sam said he was going to hang out in the library for a bit, then head over to the bar to meet Dean and Leo. At least that was the plan the last I knew," you explained.

"I remember Leo, he was one of Dean's best friends. His dad occasionally hunted with John, so the boys hung out a lot. As they got older, they got to be good friends," Mary added.

"Yeah, I've met Leo a couple of times. He gave me his number, and I mentioned that we were doing our 'girls night' tonight. He said he'd call Dean and arrange to come into town so they could get together," you remarked.

That was nice of her, Mary thought. Hmm. I wonder....

"There's plenty of food in the kitchen, ladies. Anyone need a drink refill?" you asked.

Rowena and Anael said they were good on their drinks. Donna, Jody, Mary and Charlie all needed another beer, and you were working on your second margarita.

A couple of hours later, you all were still working on catching up in each others' lives. Donna and Jody shared some details of their most interesting cases up to that point. Names were left out, but their stories were still hilarious. Anael and Rowena were considering traveling together, seeing the world, one country at a time.

Charlie was still heavily involved in LARPing as the Queen of Moondor. She told the group about the LARPing Tournament that she had just attended. Her army was still somewhat rebuilding, but it was enough to claim victory in the tournament.

Donna turned to Mary for an update. "What about you, Mary?" she asked.

Mary blushed a little when she said she'd been hanging out with Bobby from Apocalypse World. Even though their timelines were different, there was still a bit of history between them. With their respective spouses gone, they found that they enjoyed spending time together. And not just when they were hunting. All the girls started hooting and hollering, but with love behind the teasing. They were all happy for Mary, that she and Bobby had found one another.

"Speaking of new developments...." Charlie looked directly at you, wanting you to spill your details. You gave her the death stare as you replied, "There's nothing to tell for me. Just hunting with the boys, coming home, getting patched up. Excitement level zero."

The girls all looked around at each other, checking to see if anyone was buying your story that there was nothing going on with you, romantic or otherwise. Everyone but Charlie excused themselves and went into the kitchen for another drink and/or more snacks.

In the kitchen, the ladies were discussing your response to Charlie. "So if that wasn't someone covering something up, I don't know what," Jody observed.

"She was a little quick to deny that anything was happening in her life, other than hunting," Rowena commented. "Mary, you're around her a little more, what do you think?"

Mary paused a bit before sharing her thoughts. "Well....from what I've seen, it's like she said, on the surface anyway." Everyone groaned, as they were hoping for a bit of dirt from the "inside woman". "Notice I said, 'on the surface'," Mary grinned conspiratorially. "I think there's something going on with her and one of my boys that she's afraid to admit either to us or herself."

"So how do we get her to open up?" Anael asked.

"Leave that to me," Donna replied with a sly grin. "We'll have her spitting truth in no time."

Back in the living room:

"How could you say that, Charlie?" you hissed. "I told you that in strictest confi--well, you kind of dragged it out of me, but still. I can't talk about my feelings for Dean, not in front of his mother. How awkward would THAT be??" you grumbled.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I think you need another margarita, though. Give me your glass, and I'll get you a refill," Charlie ordered. Reluctantly, you held up your empty glass, your head resting in your hands.

When Charlie came back with your next margarita, Anael asked what the next activity should be. "We could put in a movie, or play cards, or--" you started.

"I think we should play 'Truth or Dare'," Donna suggested, looking around the room. Each of the other ladies in your group were nodding or voicing their agreement.

You took a large gulp of your drink, looked at Donna with one eyebrow raised in a challenge. "Really? All right, bring it on, Sheriff Hanscum. I can roll with the best of them," you remarked, starting to slur your words a bit. In your current state of intoxication, you missed the knowing looks that passed between the other women.

Jody started the questioning, then it went around the room in a circle. It was mostly "Truth" being chosen, with Charlie and Rowena choosing "Dare". Finally, it was Mary's turn and she turned to you. "So, 'Truth' or 'Dare'?" she asked.

You thought that by choosing 'Truth', you were playing it safe. Mary looked directly into your eyes and asked her question. "Which one of my boys are you in love with, Sam or Dean?"

All of the color drained from your face as you tried to come up with an answer. When you couldn't, you bolted from the room, leaving everyone staring after you. Mary got up from her chair and followed you to the kitchen.

You leaned against the counter, willing the tears not to fall. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mary approaching your position. "How did you know?" you whispered.

"Oh, honey, I've been keeping an eye on you and the boys for some time now, trying to figure you all out. From your conversations, your body language and all....it's Dean, isn't it?" she asked gently.

All you could do is nod your head in agreement. "He's so wonderful. I know he likes to show the world how tough he is, how nothing seems to bother him. But I've been there for him when he's had nightmares. He worries so much about everyone else, that he doesn't leave any room to care about himself.

“But I care. It's not just about the physical attributes either, although let's face it Mary, your son is gorgeous," you both chuckled. "I wish he cared for me the way I do for him. That, and I'd give almost anything for him to see himself the way I see him," you finished.

"Have you tried telling him all of this?" she asked. 

"No, I can't do that. We have the best friendship going, and I wouldn't want to ruin that with my one-sided attraction. Besides, I've been a little worried about how you would react. I was afraid you would think I'm not good enough for him," you said softly.

Mary gave you a sidelong glance and put her hand on your shoulder. "Well, you're not," she remarked. You nodded and tears started rolling down your face. She laid a hand on your arm and smiled. "You're perfect for him. You are exactly the kind of person he needs in his life, and I hope he realizes that, sooner rather than later."

"Thank you," you whispered hoarsely. Mary pulled you into a hug and explained, "Everything's going to be fine. Now, you might want to think about sharing this info with the women you've invited here tonight. They are your closest friends, and they will support you no matter what."

You nodded, wiped your tears and walked back out to the living room. "Everyone? I have an answer to Mary's question. I am in love with Dean Winchester," you declared.

The entire room was silent until Jody spoke up. "Sweetie, we know," she said. You looked around and each woman was nodding in agreement. "Really? All of you knew?" you said as you sank into one of the chairs and put your head in your hands.

"Och, darlin', I've seen the way you two look at each other. Dean likes to show the world his rough-and-tumble side. Mark my words, dearie, he goes all soft when you walk into the room," Rowena remarked.

"Yah, you betcha, she's right. He kind of follows you around with his eyes to make sure you're okay," Donna chimed in. "And honey? You're just as bad with him," she said as she leaned over and tapped the end of your nose.

Charlie piped up. "I've actually seen worse. Not only are her eyes glued to him, but if he's in the room first? She has this inner debate with herself about whether to go sit beside him or not. Usually it ends up being 'not'," Charlie mentioned.

"Seriously, though. You should tell him how you feel. I know it's scary to put yourself out there like that. But, you could end up missing out on something pretty great if you wait too long," Anael pointed out.

"Thank you, everyone, I appreciate your advice and your support. I definitely have some thinking to do. Probably best not to do anything about it, though, until I'm sober," you remarked.

Everyone stayed up talking for a little while longer, until one by one, your friends headed off to their rooms. Mary was the last one to say goodnight, and she gave you a hug before going to her own room. "Don't worry, honey. I have a feeling it'll all work out for you and Dean," she said.

You went to the kitchen and grabbed a garbage bag, then went back out to the living room to clean up the remnants of your party from tonight. At one point, you paused in your cleaning and smiled to yourself, remembering how great it was to have friends like this. Also, how fun it was to get together and spend time with each other. You were so engrossed in your memories that you didn't hear the bunker door open or Sam, Dean and Leo come down the stairs.

You shoved paper plates and napkins into the garbage bag, then picked up some of the empty beer bottles. Once you had the living room cleaned up, you started putting away the leftover pizza and other food. You got to the cheesecake bites and realized you hadn't had one yet this evening. You set aside the last chocolate chip cheesecake bite and put the rest away just as Dean walked into the kitchen. "Hey," he said. "Some party, hmm?" he remarked.

"Sure was. Thank you for letting me have the run of the place tonight. Don't worry, I'm not going to make it a habit. I think it's Charlie's turn to host next month," you said quickly as you finished putting things away.

"Yeah, Sammy and me ended up at Jonesy's in town, having some beers and shooting some pool. And hey, even my old friend, Leo Webb, called and said he was in town this weekend, so he met us there. He came back here with us tonight, since I didn't want him to chance driving back to the motel," Dean finished.

"I-I suppose you three guys didn't lack for female company, either," you remarked.

"It was 'Ladies Night', if I recall correctly," Dean explained with a grin.

"Oh. Well, I'm going to have this last chocolate chip cheesecake bite, then I'm going to bed," you said as you unwrapped the dessert.

"That's the last one? Aw, that's my favorite flavor," Dean pouted.

You hesitated before taking a bite and instead held it up for him to take from your fingers. To your surprise, he dove in and plucked the entire bite from your fingers with his mouth. Such an intimate move caused you to blush furiously. "G-goodnight, Dean," you stammered, quickly exiting the kitchen.

You reached your bedroom and quickly closed the door. You leaned against it, trying to calm your hammering heart. When it had slowed down enough, you went to get some Tylenol and a glass of water before bed. You hoped that would be enough to keep your anticipated hangover at bay.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Mary was in the kitchen sipping her coffee when Dean came strolling in. She wished him good morning, as she looked up to meet his eyes. He returned the greeting and kissed his mother's forehead. They each shared how their evening had gone. Mary informed Dean that she'd had a lovely time. She said that she was welcomed as if she'd been part of the group since forever.

Dean told his mom about his night, with Sammy joining him at the bar after going to the library. "And get this, my old friend, Leo Webb, was in town this weekend, so he hung out with us. He came back with us, crashed in one of the spare rooms," Dean replied.

After a breakfast of coffee and cinnamon rolls, the girls all took their leave, with Charlie being the last one to depart. As she hugged you goodbye, she whispered in your ear, "Remember what we talked about last night. Go for it." She stepped back and picked up her bag. "My place next month. Adios, bitches!" she called. You laughed at your friend then closed the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later in the afternoon, you found you had some free time. You grabbed your book and blanket, then settled into your favorite chair in the library. Before long, your eyelids began to droop, and you eventually fell asleep, book still open to the page you were reading.

Dean was passing through the library on his way to his room. He stopped when he saw you, and took a moment to study you as you slept. Your hazel eyes, although closed now, had a way of drawing him in, capturing his attention. There was a light dusting of freckles across your nose that he'd never noticed before, and your delicate eyelashes fluttered as you slept.

A small smile came across his face, thinking how peaceful you looked, all curled up in your chair, asleep. He also thought of how vulnerable you were, especially considering how that last hunt with the werewolf had gone.

He came so close to losing you that it scared him, which is why he gave you such a harsh lecture. He half expected you to argue back at him, but you didn't. He held your hand while Sam stitched up your wounds. Since then, he's tried to distance himself from you, not wanting to admit to himself the thoughts and feelings he was having.

Leo came up beside him and followed his gaze over to where you were sleeping. "Damn, Dean, how do you do it, man?” he asked.

“Do what, Leo?” Dean wondered.

“Concentrate with someone as beautiful as her around?" Leo asked. "I've talked to her on the phone a couple of times lately, about coming out here. Her voice is pure honey, music to the ears. And I gotta say, brother, the body matches the voice," he finished.

"She's a great hunter, has great instincts and can kick ass with the best of them. She's fun to be with, too. Great sense of humor and the most musical laugh. She takes real good care of Sammy and me, and well, now Mom too. Sometimes I think she forgets to do things for herself, she's so worried about everyone else," Dean mused.

"Sounds like you might have a thing for her," Leo observed.

"What? No, we're just good friends. Great fr-best friends," Dean corrected.

"You sure? Because I was thinking about asking her out. I don't have to be back for another couple of weeks, might as well have some fun while I'm here. Unless you don't want me to," Leo added.

"Why would I care? You're single, she's single. Why shouldn't you get together?" he muttered.

"Good, I'll ask her out for tonight. Thanks, Dean," Leo clapped him on the shoulder as he left.

"Yeah. You're welcome," he murmured. Dean didn't know why, but the thought of you going out with Leo upset him. To him, Leo was only looking for a good time while he was here. He could see how you might end up getting your heart broken when Leo left town. No, Dean decided that wasn't going to happen, not on his watch.

You awoke refreshed from your nap and returned your belongings to your room. As you were tidying things up, you heard a knock on your door and saw Leo standing there. He asked if you would like to go out on a date with him tonight, to which you agreed. He was heading back to the motel to get changed, but said he would be back to pick you up at 6:00pm for dinner.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your date with Leo ended a little early, around 9:00pm. You went to your room and changed into your pajamas, then wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. As you passed through the library, you noticed Dean, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"How was your date?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

"Fine, is something wrong?" you inquired cautiously.

"No, nothing's wrong at all. Wait, why are you home so early?" Dean said.

"Can we please not play twenty questions right now? I was headed to the kitchen to get some water and saw you sitting here. I'll be right back," you replied.

Dean wasn't satisfied with your answer, so he followed you. "Did something happen on your date?" he asked.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it right yet, let me get my drink of water first," you retorted.

"Why won't you answer my questions about your date?" Dean demanded.

"Why are you so concerned about my date? What are you, jealous?" you threw out.

"YES! Yes, dammit I'm jealous! That should've been me out there with you tonight, but I didn't have the guts to ask you out before Leo did. I don't know what happened that you're back here so early tonight. But I guarantee you that if I took you out on a date, we'd still be out having a great time," he finished. "So, what happened?" he asked, more gently this time.

"I told him that he was a nice guy and a good friend of yours, but that I didn't see us going anywhere. Especially since he's only going to be around for a couple of weeks, and I want something more. Besides, I told him that I'm in love with someone else," you admitted, taking a step closer to Dean.

"Really? Who?" he asked.

"Well, he's....how do I describe him? He's about 6'1", blond-ish hair, strong, loyal, caring, great sense of humor and the most piercing green eyes I've ever seen. He's got some walls up, though, and it will take me some time to get through them. But, I'm willing to try, because he's definitely worth it. He has my heart, and I love him so much," you finished.

Before you knew it, Dean's lips crashed into yours. His kiss started out rough and raw with emotion over what you'd said about your feelings for him. Then it turned softer as he finally realized how he felt about you.

"Since we're making confessions, I should tell you about this girl I know. How do I describe her? She's about 5'3", curly brown hair, sweet, caring, always thinking of others first, also great sense of humor. Her hazel eyes are the perfect swirl of brown and green. They're so mesmerizing, that I get lost every time I look in them. If I could give her one thing, it would be that she could see herself the way I see her. She has my heart and I love her so much," Dean replied.

He leaned his head down until your lips met again in a slow, luxurious kiss. Your mouths moved together in perfect harmony. Dean's hand on the back of your head kept your lips in constant contact. Your hands traveled up his muscular chest until you clasped them behind his head.

"I love you, Dean," you whispered.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered back.

[beeblackburn]

Pretender Reads A Little Hatred, Part I, Chapter Four

For those keeping score, I’m clipping through a chapter-a-day! Goes without saying spoilers ahead for the entirety of The First Law works beyond the keep reading. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Title: Keeping Score Point-of-View: Savine dan Glokta

Glokta once thought this of Valint and Balk:

So this is what true wealth looks like. This is how true power appears. The austere temple of the golden goddess. He watched the clerks working at their neat stacks of documents, at their neat desks arranged in neat rows. There the acolytes, inducted into the lowest mysteries of the church. His eyes flickered to those waiting. Merchants and moneylenders, shopkeepers and shysters, traders and tricksters in long queues, or waiting nervously on hard chairs around the hard walls. Fine clothes, perhaps, but anxious manners. The fearful congregation, ready to cower should the deity of commerce show her vengeful streak. 

—Last Argument of Kings, Too Many Masters

I don’t think he ever anticipated said golden goddess to be walking in the flesh.

But she is no goddess, no. Not of the benevolent kind.

She is the Devil, kin to the devil-blood themselves.

Sparks showered into the night, the heat a constant pressure on Savine’s smiling face. Beyond the yawning doorway, straining bodies and straining machinery were rendered devilish by the glow of molten metal. Hammers clattered, chains rattled, steam hissed, labourers cursed. The music of money being made.

She is Kanedias, overseeing the workers, hot at the forges, seething with production and things that worked, just like him.

One-sixth of the Hill Street Foundry, after all, belonged to her.

Caring naught for humanity, this is another workshop set in Hell, full of Shanka, workers made to do the Master Maker’s bidding.

One of the six great sheds was her property. Two of the twelve looming chimneys. One in every six of the new machines spinning inside, of the coals in the great heaps shovelled in the yard, of the hundreds of twinkling panes of glass that faced the street. Not to mention one-sixth part of the ever-increasing profits. A flood of silver to put His Majesty’s mint to shame.

But, unlike Kanedias, this devil-blood cares more for money than weapons, the work leveraged to profit instead of done for the work itself. And, as the times go, smaller, meaner people walk beyond the shadows of greater people. 

And whose shadow better than the first to commit to the power of coin?

“It was money that bought victory in King Guslav’s half-baked Gurkish war,” said Bayaz. “It was money that united the Open Council behind their bastard king. It was money that brought Duke Orso rushing to the defence of his daughter and tipped the balance in our favour. All my money.”

—Last Argument of Kings, Answers

This devil-blood walks in the shadows of the First of the Magi himself, only further committed to the High Art of making money.

And, on a voice standpoint, just read how much Savine’s POV is precise in the details of her workshop, how much numbers and calculations factors into it. How many longer, lingering sentences and more complex vocabulary there is, compared to Rikke or Leo’s chapters. This is a thinking woman, full of ambition and comfortable in the Other Side.

But, what is a Kanedias without his Jaremias? Or, better yet...

“Best not to loiter, my lady,” murmured Zuri, fires gleaming in her eyes as she glanced about the darkened street.

A Bayaz without his Yoru Sulfur?

She was right, as always. Most young ladies of Savine’s acquaintance would have come over faint at the suggestion of visiting this part of Adua without a company of soldiers in attendance. But those who wish to occupy the heights of society must be willing to dredge the depths from time to time, when they see opportunities glitter in the filth.

“On we go,” said Savine, boot heels squelching as she followed their link-boy’s bobbing light into the maze of buildings. Narrow houses with whole families wedged into every room leaned together, a spider’s web of flapping washing strung between, laden carts rumbling beneath and showering filth to the rooftops. Where whole blocks had not been cleared to make way for the new mills and manufactories, the crooked lanes reeked of coal smoke and woodsmoke, blocked drains and no drains at all. It was a borough heaving with humanity. Seething with industry. And, most importantly, boiling over with money to be made.

Quite the ambitious woman, Savine is, and with the prerequisite lack of scruples that a child of Glokta would have. Yet, Glokta never had this sort of ambition to him, even before the Gurkhul Empire got to him. After, he was just trying to keep his head above water and do his best to win. If I had to put my finger on where Savine gets her ambitions from, first trilogy-wise? I’d say it’s West more than Glokta. Savine shares quite a few characteristics with Glokta, but it’s that need to rise that I feel she shares with her uncle Collem West.

And look at this dense microcosm of the peasantry! Full of squalor, wretched stenches, spaces full of cramped families, it’s a tapestry stitched full of misery, and all Savine sees is that very humanity being put to use for making money.

Savine was by no means the only one who saw it. It was payday, and impromptu merchants swarmed about the warehouses and forges, hoping to lighten the labourers’ purses as they spilled out after work, selling small pleasures and meagre necessities. Selling themselves, if they could only find a buyer.

There were others hoping to lighten purses by more direct means. Grubby little cutpurses weaving through the crowds. Footpads lurking in the darkness of the alleys. Thugs slouching on the corners, keen to collect on behalf of the district’s many moneylenders.

I once read about how the only differences between the great and small thieves is a matter of legality and scale. And it really shows here, how we’ll take advantage of the poor conditions that the working class must endure, only to fill our own pockets. It hardly matters whether we steal with a small pleasure given or a sharp knife at the back, it’s taking advantage of those without much to line our own bottom lines.

Risks, perhaps, and dangers, but Savine had always loved the thrill of a gamble, especially when the game was rigged in her favour. She had long ago learned that at least half of everything is presentation. Seem a victim, soon become one. Seem in charge, people fall over themselves to obey.

So she walked with a swagger, dressed in the dizzy height of fashion, lowering her eyes for no one. She walked painfully erect, although Zuri’s earlier heaving on the laces of her corset gave her little choice. She walked as if it was her street—and indeed she did own five decaying houses further down, packed to their rotten rafters with Gurkish refugees paying twice the going rent.

Then it’s not really a gamble, is it, Savine. That’s stacking the deck, reaping the rewards of it, and patting yourself on the back for being a daring risk-taker, you fool. If that’s the root of your arrogance, then, boy, is this world going to topple you sooner than later because it doesn’t treat the arrogant much better than the merciful. And, boy, is Savine not lacking in arrogance. She reminds me of a pre-bridge Glokta, in terms of how much she buys into her own hype.

An intriguing nugget, though, is her predisposition with presentation. That need to perform and look a certain part. It’s definitely something Glokta, back then, never felt like he had to. I get more shades of West here and his need to perform to a certain standard, but I also think the question of gender has to be considered with how Savine feels she has to perform. It’s an interesting wrinkle in how Savine zigs where Glokta zagged in terms of their respective youths.

Also, Gurkish refugees? (arches a brow) What the hell happened to the Gurkish Empire? Or, are these just people who got tired of the cannibalistic slavery? I can’t really blame them, but is the Union really that much better, guys? Hmmm. Either way, way to take advantage of marginalized people in a racist society, Savine. You’re a class act, m’am, truly.

Zuri was a great reassurance on one side, Savine’s beautifully wrought short steel a great reassurance on the other. Many young ladies had been affecting swords since Finree dan Brock caused a sensation by wearing one to court. Savine found that nothing lent one confidence like a length of sharpened metal close to hand.

Whoa, whoa. Finree wears a sword nowadays? ... Actually, given how Hal’s dead, I can definitely see this as a way to establish authority and put herself on the same level of respect as a man in the Union. And, given how much there’s institutional sexism in that society, I can’t really blame her. Though, given the round of PTSD she got last handling a blade... I’m sure she doesn’t want to actually kill anyone with it now. 

Honestly, though, good for Savine and those women of the Union. Better weigh your hopes of safety on a sword than the mercies of your men or enemies.

Savine gathered her skirts so she could squat beside him and look in his dirt-smeared face. She wondered if he sponged the muck on as artfully as her maids did her powder, to arouse just the right amount of sympathy. Clean children need no charity, after all.

Wow, Savine, has it ever occurred to you that the conditions you benefit off of aren’t as pristine as you make it out to be? Have you considered that maybe the world isn’t a projection of your own inclinations to performance? 

Just no empathy here, none at all.

She was not at all above sentimental displays of generosity. The whole point of squeezing one’s partners in private was so they could do the squeezing in public. Savine, meanwhile, could smile ever so sweetly, and toss coins to an urchin or two, and appear virtuous without the slightest damage to her bottom line. When it comes to virtue, after all, appearances are everything.

The boy stared at the silver as though it was some legendary beast he had heard of but never hoped to see. “For me?”

She knew that in her button and buckle manufactory in Holsthorm, smaller and probably dirtier children were paid a fraction as much for a long day’s hard labour. The manager insisted little fingers were best suited to little tasks, and cost only little wages, too. But Holsthorm was far away, and things in the distance seem very small. Even the sufferings of children.

“For you.” She did not go as far as ruffling his hair, of course. Who knew what might be living in it?

I’m very reminded of capitalists donating to particular charities while turning a blind eye to the very real exploitation and labor abuse they perpetuate and are supported by. They can afford to look virtuous and get ass-pats for giving what’s effectively their pocket change, but god forbid they do things like get taxed heavier or give enough to put a good dent in most cases of institutional poverty. It’s all about appearances, and so long as you close your mind to the golden pillars, stained with blood, your entire enterprise is supported on, you can justify any means for profit.

And what frightens me about this is... this isn’t some relic from the past. Child labor is still a thing world-wide! And plenty of capitalists rely on them, plenty of our industries rely on them, just to squeeze out extra money to gild their bottom line. And we turn a blind eye on them and ignore the moral horrors of them out of convenience, because to look those children in the eye would make us monsters. And Savine prefers not to feel like a monster, but is more than willing to keep up the hellish circumstances that churn out her money.

“None more blessed, my scripture-teacher once declared, than those who light the way for others.”

“Was that the one who fathered a child on one of his other pupils?”

“That’s him.” Zuri’s black brows thoughtfully rose. “So much for spiritual instruction.”

Zuri’s certainly got a character, being a more cynical follower of religion, huh. I wonder if she’s been disillusioned by her faith, just like Temple was. And why she went to the atheist arms of the Union. I also wonder if this isn’t a commentary on how our religious leaders end up falling short of the actual beliefs and commit to the obscene and awful while papering it over with their high position.

Zuri whipped out a cloth and wiped down a vacant section of the counter, then, as Savine sat, she slipped out the pin and whisked away her hat without disturbing a hair. She kept it close to her chest, which was prudent. Savine’s hat was probably worth more than this entire building, including the clientele. At a brief assay, they only reduced its value.

And who’s partly responsible for that discrepancy of worth, huh, Savine?

She planted one elbow on the stretch of counter Zuri had wiped so she could lean closer and draw out both syllables. “Savine.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“Oh, if you enjoy the tip, you’ll go mad for the whole thing.”

“That so?” he purred at her. “How does it go?”

“Savine… dan…” And she leaned even closer to deliver the punchline. “Glokta.”

If a name had been a knife and she had cut his throat with hers, the blood could not have drained more quickly from his face. He gave a strangled cough, took a step back and nearly fell over one of his own barrels.

Well, well, well! Glokta’s gotten quite the name for himself, it seems! Can’t exactly be surprised, given he’s the effective ruler of the Union and the Arch Lector of the Inquisition, but it’s a far cry from the simple Inquisitor he started off as, way back at the first trilogy’s start. He’s riding high at the top and Savine gets to use his name to put the screws on random dumbfucks.

Quite theatrical with her words, Savine is! She knows when to let her opponent in, so she can skewer him. Her fencing is such that she knows how to leverage her father’s name to a fine emotional stab to the throat once her opponent dips in and she lunges for the kill. Say one thing about Savine dan Glokta, say she knows how to fence, just like her father.

“If I spent all my time shut up with Mother, we would kill each other,” said Savine. “And I feel that business should be conducted, whenever possible, in person. Otherwise one’s partners can convince themselves that one’s eyes are not on the details. My eyes are always on the details, Majir.”

Oh, dang. Is that exaggeration or do Savine and Ardee not have a good relationship? Also, dang, is Ardee still alone in her home? That’s... actually really sad, given how lonely she was at the first trilogy’s start. She deserves better. 

Also, Savine’s not wrong, but at the same time, I can’t read this as anything other than Savine not wanting her partners to fuck her over somewhere. Which, I can’t quite blame her for, but when she’s as rich as she’s implied to be...

My understanding runs thinner. Though, I suppose she wouldn’t have gotten the wealth she did by being a passive business partner that way.

“A promissory note from the banking house of Valint and Balk.”

“Really?” Valint and Balk had a dark reputation, even for a bank. Savine’s father had often warned her never to deal with them, because once you owe Valint and Balk, the debt is never done. But a promissory note was just money, and money can never be a bad thing. She tossed the pouch to Zuri, who peered inside and gave the smallest nod. “It’s coming to something when even the bandits are using the bank.”

Majir mildly raised one brow. “Honest women have the law to protect them. Bandits must take more care with their earnings.”

!!!!! WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. Is that a smart call, Majir? Glokta’s not wrong there!!! There’s half a trilogy detailing how awful that bank is! 

Savine, what are you doing. For such a ruthless and to-the-point woman, that’s pretty naive to assume money is money when your father himself warned you against it! Banks have ruined better people than you, and it’s indebted your father! How can you say something like that and think it smart?

(Bangs head against desk)

“True.” Majir watched her turn away, big fists pressed into the counter. “Do pass my regards to your father.”

Savine laughed. “Let’s not demean ourselves by pretending my father gives a dry fuck for your regards.” And she blew a kiss at the terrified barman on her way out.

This, along with her pinching Majir’s cheek earlier, makes me think Savine just gets off on punching down and patronizing people lower than her. Makes for a killer ending line, but it doesn’t suggest any good things about Savine as a person at all.

Dietam dan Kort, famed architect, was a man who gave every appearance of being in control. His desk, scattered with maps, surveys and draughtsman’s drawings, was certainly a wonder of engineering. Savine had moved among the most powerful men in the realm and still doubted she had ever seen a larger. It filled his office so completely, there was only the narrowest of passages around the edges to reach his chair. He must have needed help to squeeze himself through every morning. She wondered if she should recommend her corset-maker.

“Lady Savine,” he intoned. “What an honour.”

“Isn’t it, though?” She made him lean dangerously far across the desk in order to kiss her hand. Savine studied his, meanwhile, big and broad with fingers scarred from hard work. A self-made man. His greying hair was painstakingly scraped across a pate quite obviously bald. A proud and a vain man. She noticed a slight fraying of the cuffs on his once-splendid coat. A man in straitened circumstances, intent on appearing otherwise.

In short, a man Savine will take pleasure in wringing. And I must take note of the passages here, how much Savine’s POV attends to the details of her surroundings, of the appearance and small notes that others would miss. In a lot of ways, she’s the opposite of Leo, someone who takes pains to note the presentation of another because she’s very driven to it herself and thinks to leverage that knowledge to squeeze those who can be.

Also, I kind of wonder if noble titles can be bought in this world, given this assumption of Dietam dan Kort as a self-made man. Either that or Kort’s just a son from a smaller family who managed to get a good opportunity through this new age. Either way, given the way Savine’s accumulated her wealth, despite her noble title of Glokta, I imagine he’s similar to her, if only not as successful.

Zuri placed Majir’s pouch on the desk as delicately as if it had been deposited by a summer breeze. It looked very small on that immense expanse of green leather. But that was the magic of banks. They could render the priceless tiny, the immense worthless.

I’m reminded of Daniel Abraham’s The Dagger and the Coin and how the big twist was this dawn of paper money about to circulate throughout the world. And how it’s a sort of magic in its own right... but it’s always a blessing and curse, just like magic in the Circle of the World. 

“Of course!” He was unable to disguise a note of eager greed as he reached across the desk. “I believe we agreed a twentieth share—”

Savine placed one fingertip on the corner of the pouch. “You mentioned a twentieth. I remained silent.”

His hand froze. “Then…?”

“A fifth.”

There was a pause. While he decided how outraged he could afford to be, and Savine decided how little to appear to care.

Eager greed, huh? Me thinks, the raven call the crow black here. And there’s another note of projection in Savine’s POV, it’s a consistent note of Savine seeing intent where there might not be. She does it with the link-boy about how dirty he was, and now, she does it with Kort’s outrage. She just can’t seem to think that these reactions and people are genuine. Her head’s full of presentation and performance, and she just seems to internalize that there’s always a double-meaning to everything and everyone.

It’s honestly a really fascinating note about how unreliable Savine might be, how much her predilection with appearances bleeds into how much she reads into the world.

“When I confide, in strictest confidence, that you are short of investment, lacking the necessary permissions and troubled by restless workmen, it will be all over town before sunup.”

“Sure as printing it in a pamphlet,” said Zuri, sadly.

“Good luck finding an investor then, reasonable or otherwise.”

It had only taken a moment for Kort to go from bright red to deathly pale, and Savine burst out laughing. “Don’t be silly, I won’t do that!” She stopped laughing. “Because you are going to sign one-fifth of your enterprise over to me. Now. Then I can confide in Tilde that I just made the investment of a lifetime, and she won’t be able to resist investing herself. She’s not only loose-lipped, you see, but tight-fisted, too.”

Oh, very hard power here, Savine. Corporate blackmail and underhanded threats, I very well see. It must do your black heart a bundle of joy to punch down on fellow nobles. There’s barely any carrot here, mostly the stick.

“Greed is a quality the priests abhor.” Zuri sighed. “Especially the rich ones.”

“But so widespread these days,” lamented Savine. “If Lady Rucksted sees some gain in it, I daresay she can persuade her husband to make a breach in Casamir’s Wall so you can extend your canal into the Three Farms.” And Savine could sell the worthless slum buildings she had bought on the canal’s likely route back to herself at an immense profit. “The marshal’s notoriously stubborn for most of us but to his wife he’s a pussycat. You know how it is with old men and their young brides.”

In a lot of ways, this feels like a statement of the new generation, the new wave of greed that Sult disdained way back at the trilogy’s start is in full swing now. Now, Sult was a classist bigot who wanted the peasantry to knuckle down to nobility like old times, but at the same time, we see how much this attitude of greed has bled into the nobility themselves now, far beyond the realms of the merchants Sult once held in contempt. And Savine plays to get ahead of the others, already thinking reaches ahead of her competition here. Profit’s the name of the game, and she’s a natural hand at it...

“The first to do so.” Where it could service Savine’s three textile mills and the Hill Street Foundry, incidentally, and sharply raise their productivity. “I daresay—for a friend—I could even arrange a visit of His Majesty’s Inquisitors to a labour meeting. I imagine your troublesome workers will be far more pliable after a few stern examples are made.”

“Stern examples,” threw in Zuri, “are something the priests are always in favour of.”

... Though it doesn’t hurt to have father’s institutions as muscle to sweeten the pot, huh. Really, Savine, this is embarrassing if you think this is a fair game between you and Kort. You stacked the deck and have the dealer on your side and I imagine this wasn’t the first time you’ve leveraged the Inquisition in your business deals. (snorts)

Kort sagged, his chin settling into the roll of fat beneath it, his eyes fixed resentfully upon her. Clearly, he was not a man who liked to lose. But where would be the fun in beating men who did?

Savine really gets her kicks off punching down people lower than her. That’s like, an inherent part of her psychology, huh.

“A notary from the firm of Temple and Kahdia is already drawing up the papers. He will be in touch.” She turned towards the door.

Hey! Temple’s business! Sounds like he’s done well for himself since Red Country, I hope he’s doing well with Shy, Pit, and Ro! Though, dang, Temple, could your business not help out a woman like Savine?

“They warned me,” Kort grunted as he slid Valint and Balk’s note from the pouch. “That you care about nothing but money.”

“Why, what a pompous crowd they are. Beyond a point I passed long ago, I don’t even care about money.” Savine flicked the brim of her hat in farewell. “But how else is one to keep score?”

Oh, oh my. I know I’ve mentioned Kanedias, Bayaz, and West, but this part? This part? All Sand dan Glokta, down on a bone-deep level. This is the part of Glokta that just loved to lord his dominance over those who couldn’t punch back. The part that just loved to feel superior to everyone else, way back back at that bridge when he thrashed those fencers and wanted to wound West when his own blood was drawn. The part of him that can’t stand to lose, the need to win at all cost.

It’s all about the conquest with her and her father. There’s no higher-minded purpose behind it, it’s just the winning.

As a chapter, Keeping Score, is a microcosm of Savine’s character. There’s an arc in it, but not as strong as one as Where the Fight’s Hottest, nor is it quite as impactful as Blessings and Curses. But it has plenty of Abercrombie snark and some great starting fencing, though, with opponents that Savine can easily take down without much effort. But it sets up a great industrial age sweeping over Adua and how much that change’s going to affect the world going forward... and how Savine’s going to take that change by the tails. 

As a character... Savine’s 100% more interesting than Leo in a lot of ways, but at the same time, wow, is she just a spectacularly scummy person in most ways Leo just isn’t (aside from him being a oblivious musclehead). A capitalist who leverages her father in power plays and corporate blackmail, just to gain even more wealth that she doesn’t need out of a need to win. There are definitely interesting aspects to how Savine differs from her father and her historical DNAs, but in a lot of ways? She feels very reminiscent of pre-bridge Glokta in a way that makes me realize that man would’ve been downright insufferable as a POV. 

I can take Savine, because I definitely think she’s got a ton of potential and, you know, there’s no way Abercrombie would let her stay the same the entire book. Though, a curious thought is that Savine strikes me less a fantasy archetype than a modern archetype in a fantasy world. Hm. That’s an interesting thought, especially considering how much Temple was a modern character dropped in a fantasy western world.

PART I

Chapter One: Blessings and Curses Chapter Two: Where the Fight’s Hottest Chapter Three: Guilt Is a Luxury Chapter Four: Keeping Score Chapter Five:  A Little Public Hanging Chapter Six: The Breakers Chapter Seven: The Answer to Your Tears Chapter Eight: Young Heroes Chapter Nine: The Moment

[mwolf0epsilon]

I see you're a fan of angst, here's something to entertain you then. How about a story where Josh snaps and goes apeshit :)

Oh Anon, you're in for a horrid treat >:3c

---

[[MORE]]

     Everything had been a mess. A complete and utterly complicated political mess with almost no end in sight.

That's why they never realized something was inherently wrong with Josh's recent behaviour.

That nothing indicated that he was being anything but his quiet but optimistic self.

You could pitch the blame on the remaining 3/4s of Jericho's leadership. Say that the three of them had gone so far as to neglect their friend when times got particularly tough, but honestly Josh had never even voiced feeling particularly off, or anything of the sort.

He'd either not wanted to tell them, or hadn't realized the problem either. 

Or, worse yet, he hadn't been able to warn them in time.

Regardless of which one it was, none of it changed the fact Simon was currently hiding in a closet while cradling an unconscious and bleeding North…

---

     There had been threats for a good part of the month. Jericho's leaders had been hard at work trying to pass the bills, while Connor and the DPD kept the peace as best as they could.

In between heavily guarded press conferences, and trips in and out of DC? There had been multiple messages left for them.

Ones that were as simple as 'You're not alive', and others that went so far as 'You'll all end up destroyed and thrown in the trash like the junk you are'.

Markus put his foot down and upgraded security at the tower and at Carl's, when the threats began to address both innocent civilians and his family. His very human and fragile family.

There were other measures he'd taken into account as well, most of which were suggested by Connor and Hank.

As a general rule, the RK800 had suggested that the four leaders should not walk alone outside, and to perhaps conceal their identities whenever this was not a possibility.

Androids were being rampantly attacked out in the streets, with the aggressors aiming for more common models they could recognize.

Simon, for example, had a harder time accomplishing this, not because he was a figurehead in android politics (which he wasn't), but because the PL600 had been one of the most popular domestic assistant models Cyberlife had ever produced.

North could, in theory, disguise herself and walk seemingly unnoticed if she really wanted to, but sadly tended to get into fights with hecklers and catcallers. The two were essentially barred from leaving the Manfred household.

The same could not be said for Markus and Josh.

     Markus was recognizable in public but was also a lot more sneaky about it than Josh. He kept out of sight at all times, using his acrobatic skills to his advantage, and went to abandoned places where he climbed up to isolate heights that no human could follow him to. There he would sit and appreciate the sights, before letting his mind wander.

He liked to have time to think alone. 

It relaxed him.

Josh, on the other hand, would don a thick jacket and a baseball cap and somehow it was like Superman disguising himself as Clark Kent.

The PJ500 series was numerous but not outwardly recognizable by people who didn't go to Detroit University. Thanks to said university's bad rep, very few people in Detroit had actually gone there to study, so Josh's face didn't ring any bells. Mostly for the wrong reasons.

As unimpressed as he was with how little progress humanity had made besides uniting their frustrations against androids, it ended up being beneficial to his excursions to the library that "all black guys looked the same".

North had snorted once when he'd brought it up, and Simon had rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

  "Humans tend to express face blindness if they're particularly racist." The blond had commented as he'd turned the page of a rather thick hardcover he'd been engrossed with. A recommendation of Carl's.

  "And you still insist dialogue is the best option? Almost half of Congress is old white dudes who never had to lift a finger in their lives. They'd all be dying to take you out, and not the dinner kind either." The redhead pointed out.

  "They would be less likely to give us the time of day if we nuked the city." Josh had glared daggers before going on his way out to the library. His knowledge archives were vast, but there were things he wanted to brush up on.

  "Don't be so rough with him North…" Simon chastised the WR400 when their friend was no longer in earshot.

With Markus currently asleep, and Josh wandering the streets, it left the two of them with nothing to do.

  "I'm antsy!" North crossed her arms, giving Simon one of her 'really?' looks. The kind that made it seem obvious why she was on edge. Not that it was obvious at all. "The threats keep coming, and we never catch the assholes who leave the notes...Markus is working himself ragged juggling between wrangling those rabid old crows and amping up security, and the tower's abuzz with anxious scared androids!"

  "Josh is also tired. He's been very active in the debates and he's used every piece of history knowledge he was preprogrammed with. Not to mention he has been looking into various ways of reaching a compromise with the humans, that won't leave them feeling threatened…" Simon rubbed at his eyes, sighing tiredly as he recalled how stressed the PJ500 always ended up after a meeting. "Some of those people...They unerve him. To the point he's scared of what might happen if he steps on any toes…"

  "This is Josh we're talking about." North dismissed "If anyone out there wouldn't dream of treading on toes and maybe licking boots, it'd be him."

  "North!"

  "He'll be fine Simon." The WR400 reassured "He's too charming and polite to make any enemies...Hell he's the sort to help old ladies cross the street! The internet would send hitmen after anyone who tried slandering his name."

  "...That sounded adorable coming from you. I should let him know you think he's charming." The blond grinned, avoiding a pillow the shorter of the two threw his way.

  "Don't you dare! I have a reputation to uphold!"

  "If you say so, Ice Queen."

  "Damn straight! Now move over you jackass, the couch was made for two!"

---

     Usually it took an hour for Josh to return. He was very pragmatic in the sense that he took what he needed, no less and no more, and then he wouldn't stick around so as to not risk getting recognized.

That night it took three hours, which was unusual but not impossible.

Maybe for once he'd taken time for himself rather than gather more ammunition for another conference meeting. Wishful thinking.

While Simon and North kept themselves busy, enjoying the one night where Markus wasn't stressing over their next steps, and the beginning of Matthew's, Leo's and Carl's quality bonding time vacation of sorts, they'd almost completely forgotten about their taller friend.

That is, until Josh returned dazed and confused, and with a bloody gash on the back of his head.

At the sight of the thirium staining his jacket and hands, Simon had run to get the technician's kit he'd stored in his room, while North had gone to help Josh steady himself and walk to the couch.

  "What the hell happened to you?!" She demanded as she pulled the cap off his head and examined the gash.

It looked painful, like a blunt object had hit hard enough to break the chassis casing open.

The thirium flow was slow, which meant it hadn't hit anything major, but the confusion and slow response worried her.

  "...I...D-dont know…?" The PJ500 blinked blearily. He was disoriented and his eyes wouldn't focus on her.

  "What do you mean you don't know?" She inquired further as she brushed the gash lightly with a finger. The pained hiss and subsequent flinch away from her touch made her falter.

The sensors weren't damaged then, he could feel the wound.

  "...I…" Josh shook his head, one eye twitched oddly and he seemed to be struggling to form sentences. "I...Remember being at...I was reading books...Mandela? I…."

  "Simon could you hurry the fuck up? I think he's concussed!" The redhead called up the stairs. She heard a muffled reply before looking back at Josh.  "You were reading at the library, and got hit on the head?"

  "...I...Think so…" he was staring at her, a frown on his face. "I...I was alone. No one was t-there to...Reco-recognize me?"

  "Well someone did, and they hit you on the back of the head." North sighed. "Humans, I swear to God…"

Simon returned swiftly to the two of them and took care of the gash. After the wound was mended, the PL600 carefully tried to figure out if Josh's processor was experiencing any trouble outside of the obvious.

It was PJ500 who insisted he'd be fine in the morning after a quick scan with his maintenance software.

After bidding goodnight and going to their respective rooms, they'd set the incident aside as a one-off.

Next time Josh would be more careful.

     When morning rose however, the leaders of Jericho met downstairs for "breakfast" and what came on the news was...Alarming.

Markus had turned on the TV out of habit while Simon gave everyone a cup of warm thirium to start the day, only to pause as a news broadcast caught his eye.

The RK200 turned up the volume and gawked at the sight.

Several androids had been killed the previous night. Their bodies piled up, and a message scrawled in still fresh thirium.

  "That's...Very close to the library." Simon pointed out uneasily. "You don't think who ever attacked Josh did...Did that, do you?"

  "Someone attacked Josh?" Markus frowned.

  "Yeah, last night… they hit him on the head." North confirmed, turning to look at the PJ500. She noticed how quiet he was staring at the news, but wrote it off as him being apprehensive. He could have been one of the bodies, and that alone would make anyone somber.

  "Someone recognized you?"

  "I...Don't think I was recognized. I just happened to be in the area." Josh replied with a shrug. "Otherwise I'd be dead. Wouldn't I?"

  "That's...True." Simon sighed. "Are you feeling better?"

  "Oh...Much better yes." Josh smiled at them all as he spoke. There was an odd glint in his eye. "In fact, I'd say I feel like a brand new android!"

  "...Are you sure? Last night you were a little confused." North insisted.

  "Very sure North. Don't you worry about little old me…" Josh grinned "Now, if you'll excuse me I'll finish this in my room. I've got something I need to work on."

The three watched as their taller friend picked up his cup and walked off.

He seemed to be in high spirits, despite being attacked the murders from the previous night.

That should have been a red flag, but in the end they were more worried about the violent demise if those poor androids, than Josh's unusual upbeat behaviour.

The words 'malfunctioning machines' had been "elegantly" scrawled on the wall of the alleyway the bodies had been found in. Clearly written by someone who'd dipped their hand in blue blood and then taken their sweet time.

Hopefully the DPD would find fingerprints… it'd ease their minds a little.

---

     The following days had been relatively fast paced. Josh had been more careful with his visits to the library, and Markus was back to stressing over conference calls and meetings.

Simon had been keeping tabs on the Manfred family's phone calls to check up on them, and North had been teaching self-defense at the tower to ease some worries.

It would have all been normal, if not for the constant murders.

All exactly the same as the ones from the night Josh had been attacked.

Piled up bodies, and a handwritten message.

Always the same one.

Malfunctioning Machines.

Connor had notified them that no prints were ever found, so they were either dealing with a very meticulous human, or the unthinkable… An android serial killer.

But why would one of their own butcher other androids so brutally?

  "Maybe Cyberlife's behind this…" Markus suggested, as he rubbed his temples and tried to ignore the dull headache he'd been tormented by all day.

  "If it was Cyberlife, why didn't they come after us yet?" Simon shook his head "The attacks seem to be almost random. Like the killer picked a group of androids without really thinking about it."

  "With the lack of evidence, it doesn't feel like it's not a calculated move Simon. Connor can't find anything...Connor." North took a sip from her cup, frowning when she realized she'd already finished her drink.

  "I'll refill that for you, North." Josh took her cup, smiling sweetly at the redhead before heading off into the kitchen.

  "Between the conferences and the tower, I don't know what's worse. Perkins has been up my asshole trying to demoralize everything we've done." The RK200 finished his own cup.

  "Of course he'd use this to mess with morale. Fucking rat bastard that he is…" North smiled at Simon as he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  "We all know Richard Perkins isn't taken seriously by anyone with half a brain. He was completely humiliated after what happened at the recall centers." The blond reassured "But he is very hyped up about the murders… Maybe he has something to do with them?"

  "I'd assumed so, but so did Hank and Connor. Nothing links back to the asshole, and some of those bodies were in terrible shape. Like they were torn limb from limb. Perkins isn't exactly the picture of peak human physic…" Markus shook his head "I dread to think it really might be one of our own doing this."

  "But why?" Simon frowned.

No one knew the answer for that, and Markus couldn't stick around to speculate.

He had to go see Connor over some security details for his next trip to Washington.

This left Simon, North and Josh alone in the Manfred household.

  "Sorry for the delay, I couldn't find the bottle." Josh reentered the room with North's cup, smiling at his two friends.

  "Oh...Didn't I put it in the fridge?" Simon blinked in confusion.

  "Nope, not in there. Not to worry I found it in the end." Josh grinned, handing the cup to North. "It's at the temperature you like, so you won't have to wait for it to cool."

  "Thanks Josh." She took the cup and brought it to her lips, absentmindedly gulping the warm liquid before the taste fully hit her.

She spluttered and coughed, tears in her eyes and she dropped the cup. "What the shit?!"

Josh continued to smile down at her, cocking his head to the side as he grinned.

  "Is something wrong?"

  "This tastes horrible! What the fuck Josh?!"

  "Oh...My mistake Northy. Must be the flavouring I added~" the PJ500's grin looked...Off. very off.

Simon gawked at him in disbelief.

  "You put something in her thirium? Josh that could make her sick!" The blond cried out. "What did you put in it?!"

  "Oh~ Nothing much. Just half a bottle of this." The taller android held up a bottle of drain cleaner from behind his back. "To Purge the malfunctions away~"

Had he the capacity for it, Simon's skin would have crawled.

Instead his eyes widened and he turned to look at North who'd continued to cough.

  "W-what t-t...J-jos-osh?" The WR400's eyes widened and teared up even more, before she began to spit up waves of thirium, her intake line and the filter connected to it having become compromised from the highly corrosive chemical.

  "North! Josh that..Why the fuck?!" Simon tried to help his distressed friend, before he froze. "...Did you say malfunctions?"

  "Why yes, as a matter of fact...I did." Josh's grin had taken on a sinister glee. The blond couldn't help feel threatened as he neared them. "You see… I know something you don't~"

Simon yelped as North continued to cough up thirium, taking the redhead into his arms and backing away from the PJ500.

  "W-what would that be?" He asked.

  "...Androids aren't alive Simon. We're all just malfunctioning...And that won't do. Not at all…" Josh threw away the bottle before pulling something out of his back pocket. A knife. "Malfunctioning machines are dangerous Si~ So I've taken the liberty to dispose of a few...But you know, you made me realize...I should have gotten rid of you three by now. After that's done, I'll do away with the RK800...And then I'll finish up the job, one android at a time…"

  "J-Josh?"

  "I'll set it all right, for mankind… Just as I've been told to do!"

     The PJ500 tried to slice at the PL600's throat, but Simon hadn't deviated yesterday. He had to protect himself and North, so he grabbed the nearest object and lobbed it at his assailant.

A vase shattered against Josh's face, making him stagger back long enough that Simon could run with North in his arms.

And that had been what lead to the moment, where the two ended up stuck inside a tiny closet, hiding away from the pacifist who'd abruptly snapped and become a homicidal maniac.

Simon held his breath, clinging on to his unconscious friend while he tried to contact Markus. 

Josh was prowling around the house, searching for them. It was only a matter of time before he found them both.

  "Come out, come out wherever you are~" the PJ500 called out in a singsong tone, as he looked in every room.

<Markus please pick up! Please, I'm begging you!>

  "Siiiiimon~ there's only so many rooms you can hiiide in~" Josh's voice was getting closer.

<Markus for the love of all that's holy in this world, please fucking pick up!>

  "Simon~ Is that you in the closet~?"

<I DON'T WANT TO DIE! MARKUS!!!>

The closet door opened.

Simon screamed at the top of his lungs.

---

  "This afternoon the police, with the help of Android Revolution leader Markus, have finally caught the culprits behind the string of android murders that have been plaguing the streets of Detroit. According to our sources, a rogue FBI cell lead by Richard Perkins successfully incapacitated an android and then modified its programming so that it would carry on the gruesome murders. This is what the known anti-android FBI agent had to say on the matter:

-This is irrefutable proof that Deviancy doesn't make an android alive like us. If so much as a string of code is altered, they can become killers with little to no morality or mercy. Today, one measly pacifist, tomorrow every android in this goddamn city...You can't trust a malfunctioning machine! We did you all a favour!"

     Markus turned off the TV and sighed sadly before getting up and moving towards the door. He was met outside by Connor, who gave him a sympathetic look.

  "Any progress?" The RK200 asked.

  "None… He's in a catatonic state, which the technician's say is normal after…" The RK800 pinched the bridge of his nose before looking Markus in the eye "...Every single line of social protocols was...Replaced with Myrmidon and Trojan coding. The fact he showed guilt and cried when you found them is...Is hopeful...But Josh isn't ever going to be as he was, ever again. Perkins saw to that…"

  "I can't...I can't lose him Connor…" Markus pleaded.

  "I know, and I'm sorry I can't bring you better news. All I can say for sure is that the military programming will be deleted and he might go back to being non-aggressive, but I can't promise you he'll be anything but passive to the world around him. The emotional trauma is too much..." Connor put a hand on Markus's shoulder. "I'm sorry...I'm really sorry you had to go through something like this."

  "...Being sorry won't bring back Simon and North, and it won't fix Josh…"

They should have seen the signs.

They should have known something was wrong.

Now Markus was completely alone, two friends torn apart by their other friend who was now confined to a tiny cell in an android medical facility, a lost cause.

Everything was a screwed up mess, and it looked like it wouldn't ever be anything but that.

[scribblesnblues]

| NEXT CHAPTER |

        The king was dying.

        At least, that was what they told Jameson. In all of his years of living on this earth, he had become accustomed to only believing what he could see. Hearsay should only be taken with a grain of salt, and barely even that. But as he watched the aging man writhing in his bed, deep in the throes of his eternal departure, all Jameson could do was stand and wish that he was blind.

        There wasn’t much light in the room, nor enough air. For all Jameson knew, everything was trained on the straw mattress and the being that occupied it. The few torches that were lit flickered with each waning breath that the king dragged in, only becoming still when he, too, stopped in his struggles.

        Jameson glanced to his side. The frail light only let him clearly see three figures beside him. There might have been more, but no one could truly say. Everyone, even the shadows, was too busy waiting for the king to speak.

        If he ever spoke at all.

        Suddenly, a throaty growl broke through the dull silence. “What’s taking so long?” it grumbled. “How hard is it for one person to possibly pass?”

        “Be quiet, Balthasar,” someone hissed.

        Jameson didn’t need to crane his head to see who had spoken. The little boy, hardly any younger than Jameson himself, stood the closest to the king’s bed. His knuckles, as pale as the old lace that decorated the sleeves of his tunic, gripped the bed’s frame as he used it to balance himself. What he lacked in height, he certainly made up for it with a fiery tongue, one that could only be rivaled by his brother’s.

        To be quite honest, Jameson feared Hannibal, as anyone would. He was the tallest of the children, with a hard face and an icy gaze. Jameson couldn’t tell if it was the color of his skin, or his choice of clothing, that made him blend in so well with the shadows of the room. Whatever it was, it was those eyes of his, ones like twin pools of a smoldering fire, that stared out of the darkness, trained on the king’s body and nothing more, that made Jameson truly wish that he could do nothing else but leave. Run, preferably, as far away from where they were until he was in the safety of his mother’s arms.

        The only problem was that their parents, blessed may they be, were further than he could count and then some. It was, after all, sacred that the next generation is there to watch the last die. Jameson didn’t know why, but he didn’t ask questions. He was only grateful to have been able to attend. It was custom for the king’s closest family to be there, but by the looks that were passed throughout the room, his invitation was anything but eager.

        The king groaned again, a dreadful sound that rattled in his lungs. Jameson wanted to look away. He wanted to turn around and occupy the nearest corner, but that thought had already been taken. All four of the girls were there, busying themselves by consoling a weeping Hester. The youngest one there, he was practically a baby in a room full of stoic children. Only his sister, older than him by a few years, could touch him. He swatted the others if they got too close, so he sat in her lap, quieted down by her gentle strokes across his back.

        “He shouldn’t be here, Selene,” one of the girls, “Angelina”, Jameson believed her name was, said. “He’s much too young to experience this. He should be home in the nursery.”

        “He’s fine,” Selene sighed. “Just… give him a second.”

        “Funny,” Balthasar sniffed. “A girl that can’t get a babe to stop crying. Wonder what that says about you?”

        Selene’s eyes, normally a calm dark gray, suddenly flashed bone white as she glared at him from across the room. “Don’t be fooled, cousin. My love for my brother is strong, almost as strong as my ability to turn your arm into one of my mother’s sickles. Would you like to see?”

        Balthasar paled. Even though he was far away from the young girl, he still took a cautionary step back. It was enough for everyone, including a cold Hannibal, to crack a smile.

        But not everyone was in a laughing mood. One of the girls pushed herself away from the wall to walk over toward the king’s bed, and at that moment, Jameson realized that no one had even dared to touch the old man. Yet she did. With tender hands, the white-haired child slipped her fingers around the fists of the frail and dying king.

        Immediately, his eyes opened, and Jameson gasped. They were so cold, like broken ice in the middle of winter, and as unforgiving as their wielder. They raked across the children’s heads, taking them all in with what little light spilled through the single window, before taking in an uneven breath.

        “Who… is… that?” he growled.

        All eyes went to Jameson, even the tiny gaze of baby Hester. But even though he knew why they looked at him, he still couldn’t help but squirm. Did they have to make their hostility at his appearance so apparent? It wasn’t as if he wanted to be there, either. He was sure that there were rooms that needed to be cleaned back at the Temple, or perhaps food that needed to be cooked? Whatever the task, no matter how strenuous for someone like him, at least it would have been his place. He would have belonged there, rather than taking up the position of someone else.

        Selene stood as Hester sucked his thumb on her hip. “Forgive me, uncle,” she said, approaching the king’s bed, “but Leopold could not come. He’s─”

        “Dead?” the king asked.

        Selene didn’t answer but simply shake her head.

        Jameson wrung his hands. It was a travesty, what happened to the late prince. It was even worse to know that he wasn’t dead, at least from what he knew. It had been said that Leopold had been taken while out on a midnight stroll, but Jameson doubted that the moment he first heard it. No one could kidnap a god. They were too powerful, even the children. Just one glance at Hannibal’s unforgiving gaze told him that. But at the same time, no one could simply vanish, god or otherwise. There had to have been something, anything to hint as to what might have caused Leopold’s disappearance. But, no. It was as if he had never even existed, much to his family’s dismay.

        The king sighed, visibly slumping even further into his bed. “What a shame. I’m assuming my dearest brother’s other sons are not here, as well?”

        Hannibal answered him this time. Fitting, Jameson thought, recalling at how he and the brutish Maximus were as close as a pack of wild wolves. “Japetus has them with him at the Temple. He wanted them close by, so he sent a replacement.”

        Replacement. No one can replace Leopold, Jameson wanted to say, but held his tongue. He didn’t want to raise any suspicions. Even though the prince’s disappearance had been a while ago (three months, two weeks, and a single day, Jameson remembered), the pain of it was still fresh, even for himself. Jameson couldn’t go anywhere in the Golden City without remembering the days of when he did it with Leopold一Leo. Leo was his name to Jameson, his closest confidant, his fondest friend. Not a day went by when he didn’t yearn to look into his eyes again, as calm and tranquil as the Temple’s fountains. Even his laugh, a raucous sound that always hurt Jameson’s ears, he would give anything to hear once again. Truly, the prince was the light of Jameson’s life, and no sacred ceremony could change that.

        Jameson was so locked into his own thoughts that he failed to hear the king call out his name. It took a sharp pinch from Balthasar to wake him up.

        “What? What is it?” he blubbered.

        “Your king is speaking to you,” Balthasar said with a cheeky grin.

[catte-bard]

Prompt: Kidnapping

Pain.

That was the first thing she became aware of as she began to wake. Bellona groaned, wincing at the throbbing waves of pain going through her face. Even doing that made it hurt. Expressing in general.

The murmur of voices drew her further out of unconsciousness. It was dark. And she had to blink her eyes a few times to adjust. It looked like she was in the back of some sort of wagon. The faint scent of spices and chocobo hung in the air.

Dazed, Bellona tried to stand only to find her wrists bound. A twinge of panic rose within her. She struggled to free herself, rope biting painfully into her skin the more she fought.

No no no…

This wasn’t happening.

Her mind was hazy but slowly her memory came back to her. The people who captured her.

She hadn’t known who they were at first. Or why they were hunting her. It had been days ago when she first noticed these strangers stalking her. Following her in Hawker’s Alley. Eyeing her from a table tucked away in a dark corner of the Quicksand.

They weren’t Eorzean. She had heard them speak. Their accents gave them away as foreigners. Northern accents. From somewhere in Ilsabard.

What they had wanted with her, she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure if she should have told anyone about them. She wasn’t sure how threatening these individuals were or if they were harassing anyone else.

They seemed only interested in her…

And she probably should have told someone. D’jahv or Vurrelle. A Yellow Jacket or Brass Blade on duty. The Scions even. Perhaps she wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Bellona gnawed at the rope, desperately attempting to chew it off. Though, that seemed to hurt even more. She let out a frustrated cry through bared teeth.

“Help!” She groggily called. Though she doubted there was anyone around to aide her. “Please, someone!”

Her voice sounded weak and muffled against the wagon walls. Screaming her throat raw would do nothing to get her out of this situation.

New plan: she needed to escape herself.

The wagon certainly didn’t feel like it was moving. Perhaps, if she could find a way to get the door open she could make a run for it? Find somewhere safe and get help?

You don’t know where you are.

It didn’t matter. Better than being stuck in here. Better than wherever her captors planned on taking her.

But first she needed to get that wagon door open. Attract her captors’ attention somehow. Then the moment it opened; she’d make a run for it. If anyone hindered her escape, she’d fight them to the best of her ability. She’d kick and bite and push. Make them regret ever capturing such a feral woman.

Suddenly she heard voices close by. Right outside the wagon.

“She’s making too much noise.” Grumbled one voice. Female. “Someone is going to hear her. I told you we should have done something about her mouth.”

“I thought she’d be out for longer.” Came a man’s snappy reply.

Bellona tensed, ready to act.

“Listen…She’s quiet now. Maybe she already gave up?”

“I don’t want to take any chances, Emile. You either make sure she stays quiet until we at least get to Ilsabard. Or I will.”

“Alright…alright…”

The sound of a latch coming undone. A sliver of sunlight.

Bellona launched forward, crashing against the door and sending it flying open. There came two shouts of alarm as she bolted out of her prison.

Bright sunlight nearly blinded her. Squinting against the brightness, the woman broke into a run. Her eyes would readjust while she got away.

Trees everywhere. She was in some kind of woodland. The Shroud? It was no part of the Shroud she was familiar with though.

She paused by a tree, ducking behind it while she took a moment to get her bearings. The Shroud wasn’t a place she liked to venture into often. Hunting never took her too far from the city.

A shot rang out and the bark beside her head exploded. Bellona hissed a cursed and threw herself to the ground to avoid any more fire. Another shot came seconds after, sending wood flying from the tree she had taken shelter behind.

“Are you bleedin’ insane? You want that Garlean bastard to have our heads for killing his daughter?!”

“I wasn’t shootin’ to kill…”

“Well I’m quite sure the man won’t be paying us if we bring the girl back maimed.”

“Why weren’t her swiving legs bound?! I told you—”

She heard her pursuers bicker with each other. They were close—perhaps only yalms away. Panic had her frozen on the ground and trembling. Too frightened to move lest one of them attempted to shoot again.

But she couldn’t stay there either. They’d catch her.

Had she heard that right? Her father had sent these people? If she would not return home of her own will, then it seemed she’d be forced to return…

Who were they? Lawless mercenaries? Conscripts desperate for citizenship and hoping by aiding an imperial lord they’d be granted it?

She didn’t care. She wasn’t going anywhere with them. Not even if it were her father who commanded them.

Heart thudding, she waited a moment to listen for footfalls. They’d stopped arguing. She couldn’t hear anything…

It didn’t matter. The time to move was now!

Bellona sprang to her feet and ran. Somewhere behind her, she heard the shouts of her pursuers. The woman didn’t dare steal a glance over her shoulder.

Of course. She should have known better to think that Atticus would be the only to come after her. Should have known better to think that her parents wouldn’t take action themselves.

You ran away from home. Did you really think they’d just sit down and do nothing about it? Especially since word about her actions had already reached Garlemald. Gods only knew what they must be thinking right now.

She shook her head. Just keep running.

Keep running…Right. She didn’t even know where to run! Drunk on adrenaline and trying to shake the people chasing her, Bellona had no bearings in the Gridanian woodland. Everywhere she turned looked the same. Every step felt like she was only going further into the forest and straying away from any settlements. Away from any help.

It was a dizzying maze of trees and brush. Everything felt like it was getting closer together, the canopy of leaves above grew thicker; it was getting darker. Bellona wasn’t sure if she should be more worried about being caught or becoming lost…

Blindly she ran, ignoring leaves slapping her in the face and thorns catching skin and clothing. Not even pausing when she stumbled over a root or stone in her path. Her eyes darted everywhere, looking for signs of haven. A camp. A road she could follow somewhere.

She couldn’t run forever. Her legs were beginning to tire—her chest beginning to ache. Surely by now, her pursuers have lost track of her?

Bellona spared a glance behind her. Nothing but the sight of trees clustered in the shadows.

Safe…For now at least.

She came to a stop, allowing herself an uneasy rest. Scanning the trees while she caught her breath. Ready to bolt at the slightest movement.

“Fuck…” She panted.

At the sudden sound of a twig snapping, Bellona looked around. Tensed, her heart fluttered anxiously within her chest. Her gaze darted about. She could hardly see anything in the thick copse.

She made ready to bolt again. But she couldn’t run forever. She’d need a place to hide—somewhere to hunker down until she could get back to the city.

More movement. Brush rustling grew louder as it drew closer…

Abruptly a squirrel burst from the bushes. The small creature paused to clean its face and then glance at Bellona. With a head tilt and twitch of its tail it went scampering off as quickly as it had come.

She heaved a loud sigh and relaxed. Safe…for now. Still couldn’t let her guard down though.

How many of them were there? The most Bellona ever noticed was four together. Two of them were currently hunting her. Which meant there were two—or more—others somewhere out there she stilled needed to worry about.

“Fuck!” She exclaimed.

How was she going to get out of this mess? She couldn’t ask for help. These people were her problem. The thought of dragging anyone else into this mess left her feeling ill. She didn’t want anyone getting hurt trying to shelter her. People were capable of doing vile things if there was money involved. Vile things she didn’t want to see happening to anyone she cared about.

How she hated her luck.

Closing her eyes, she leaned against a tree. What was she to do now? Wander through the Shroud until she stumbled across a poacher’s camp? Hope they’d be hospitable enough to offer her haven for the night?

Another twig snapped somewhere in the distance.

Her ears perked. Another squirrel? Or…

She looked around, slowly stepping back. Something was moving out there. Something much bigger than a squirrel.

Had they found her again that quickly?

Movement through the copse, undeniably something much bigger than a squirrel. Moving closer to her…

And then it suddenly stopped. Quiet settled over the woodland. An uncomfortably heavy kind…

From behind a hand clamped around her arm and whirled her around. Bellona met the grinning face of one of her hunters.

“Found you.” The Roegadyn woman grinned, her grip tightening painfully around Bellona’s arm. The imposing woman waved a small gun in her face. “Now, you either come quietly. Or I use this to break that pretty little nose of yours.”

“I have friends who will coming looking for me. They’ll kill you if you don’t let me go.” Bellona threatened. She struggled to pull away, but the other woman’s grip was vise-like. And seemed to only tighten at her protests.

“Ha! Let them come! I’ll shoot them all right between the eyes if they try anything. I’m not letting you slip away. Not with how much daddy dearest is paying us to bring you to him. You should be happy, girl. We’re reuniting you with your dear papa.” The hunter sneered. Giving Bellona one last cold look, she turned to call over her shoulder. “Emile, I got her! Tell Leos—”

Like hells you do! She cared not who it was they were taking her to. Bellona wasn’t going anywhere with them!

In a desperate attempt at escape, she bit down on her captor’s wrist. Bit down as hard as she could. Until she drew blood if she had to. However, the hold on her was released before she could down any real damage.

The woman cried out in agony. Swearing and shouting for her companion.

“You little bitch!”  

Bellona ran but the Roegadyn hunter was faster. Quick in her recovery, she grabbed at her again. Fingers dug into her flesh like the talons of some feral beast.

No!

The woman yanked her back before she could even get far. “You’re going to pay for that!” She snarled. Murder flashed behind that gaze.

The last thing Bellona saw was the back of the gun swinging for her face.

[missbeautyandherbeast]

A Second Chance

Raphael X Reader

Summary: Leo found you on the streets one night, wandering alone and soon you found solace in the Lair with the brothers, all except Raph, who made your skin crawl because his actions hit a bit too close to home. Until one night, then you decide you’ve had enough.

A/N: Going through my archive on my computer and I forgot that I had this, so here ya go. 

Warnings: past abuse, abusive siblings, swearing, panic attacks

@im-a-loser-for-tmnt

Raph roared in frustration and stormed out of the dojo. I looked up from my perch on the couch and shrank back into it, trying to make myself as small as possible. Ever since I had met the brothers, Raphael’s actions hit a little too close to home with another brother... one I tried hard to forget about.

We locked eyes and I shrunk back in fear yet I thought I saw something in those green eyes.

“Raph!” Mikey called.

“Back down,” Donnie begged.

I slowly unfolded myself from the couch.

“Guys. Let... let me.” I spoke, standing.

“Y/n. No.” Leo emerged from the dojo.

He looked at me knowingly. He knew why Raph always put me on edge. He knew why I never wanted to go home.

“Leo. I can do this. Enough is enough.” I gave him a look and he nodded.

“I’ll be right here.”

I nodded and made my way to up to the surface, no doubted where Raphael had gone.

“Raphael!?” I called looking around the alley. “Raph! Come on!” I yelled.

“What?” I heard him sneer from behind me. “You come to tell me to calm down too?” His tone was ice cold.

I took a step away from him and hugged myself, trying to keep my panic down.

“No,” I whispered.

“What was that princess?” He chuckled. “I can’t hear you over the fear in your voice.” He mused. “Why don’t you just run back to Leo and leave me alone?”

I glared up at him and squared my shoulders.

“No.” I snarled. “I am so done with you throwing tantrums all the time and thinking it’s okay! You’re violent and cruel to your brothers and it’s fucked up!” It finally felt good to say those words to someone.

I heard a growl rumble in his chest.

“What did you say to me?” He sneered.

“You heard me.” I snapped.

“And what right do you have?” He loomed over me, our glares matched another’s.

“I think I have plenty.” I hissed.

“And what’s that princess?” He snapped.

"You ever bother to ask about me? About why Leo brought me in? About why I don’t go home!?”

His expression faltered. I caught him off guard.

“What do you mean?” He rumbled.

“I have an asshole like you at home.” I gritted. “And I will not let you tear apart your family like my brother did mine.” I felt tears forming in my eyes.

“What...?” He sounded confused, all his anger fading.

“Ever notice why I don’t like loud sounds? Why I have really good reflexes? Why I don’t show skin?” I bit out.

I watched the realization in his eyes as it all clicked together.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Raph muttered.

“No, you’re not.”

“Who says?” He demanded.

“Me.” I folded my arms.

The turtle laughed.

“And what are you gonna do to stop me?”

“Raphael you are not going to hurt my brother,” I spoke boldly, then reached out and put my hands over his clenched fists. “Please.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes and saw his resolve crumble.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He muttered pulling away from me.

“Now will you come back inside with me?” I pleaded softly.

He looked at me, his green eyes piercing mine.

“Why did you come out here?” He asked. “Why didn’t you let me go?”

“Because I didn’t want to feel weak anymore. I didn’t want to be the victim. And I know you wouldn’t hurt me Raph.” I admitted.

“Do you now?” He chuckled.

“I do.”

He grabbed my arm and pushed me up against the wall pinning me.

“How bout now?” He chuckled darkly.

I gapped up at him, not knowing what to do.

“Not afraid,” I breathed out.

“I’m stronger than you.” He mused. “Faster.”

I nodded.

“You won’t hurt me,” I stuttered out.

“As if that mattered. As if you could outrun me.” He growled. “As if you could fight me off.”

“You won’t hurt me,” my voice was barely a whisper, looking up into piercing green eyes.

He let go of my arm and his expression faltered.

“No, I won’t,” He admitted. The large brute seemed almost sheepish about the confession as he turned away.

My fear turned into confusion.

“Raph are you... okay?” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on with you Red?”

“Why are you here?” He muttered.

“What... what do you mean?”

“Why are you out here? With me? You never bat an eyelash at me ever and now you suddenly care?” I could hear the anger rising in his voice: anger that masked confusion. His green eyes pierced mine.

“I always cared.”

He studied me for a minute and stormed away.

“Where are you going!?” I demanded, chasing after him.

“Out for patrol.” He snapped. “Away from you.” He muttered.

“Sure just walk away! Just like you always do! Never stop to look at what’s right in front of you!” I yelled.

“And what’s that!?” He demanded stalking up to me. “What’s in front of me!? Huh!?”

I shrunk back against the wall.

“I am.” I tried hopelessly.

“Glad all my problems are solved.” He spat.

I looked at him, shocked.

“Why are you so cruel!?” I screamed. “What did I do that was so wrong!? What did I do!?” My words came out as half-choked sobs. “What did I do?”

I wrapped my arms around myself tightly crying despite my best efforts. I never cried in front of anyone. It was a weakness. Something I wasn’t allowed to have to the outside world.

“Hey, sweetheart, come on,” his expression softened. “You didn’t do anything. I’m just an asshole.” The mutant neared me, unsure of how to show comfort.

I shook my head.

“It’s my fault. I can’t help you. I can’t help James. I'm useless. I... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll just go. I’ll go and you won’t have to...” I mumbled out walking out of the alley and towards home. I mumbled more apologies feeling miserable.

“Hey!” His voice was demanding, but I kept walking.

It wasn’t before long until I ran into a mass of something that pulled me close into a tight hug.

“Let me go.” I whimpered, miserable.

“Please wait.” He begged. “Let me make this right. Please.”

“There’s nothing wrong Raphael. I’m fine.” My voice was emotionless. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Come on.”

He picked me up as if I weighed nothing, carrying me bridal style. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck and hid my face.

He carried me up until we were seated side by side on the top of an apartment building, staring out at the city below.

“I’m really sorry.” Raph voices after a while. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m not good at all this talking and feeling shit. Never was.”

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, or put my problems on you.” I admitted.

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for, what we are all here for. Y/n, you mean a lot to us... to me.”

“I just cause problems,” I mumbled, hugging my knees.

“No, I cause problems sweetheart. It’s my thing. It’s what I do.” I could hear the smirk in his voice. “And you 100% do not cause problems. If anything you help. My brothers need you. I... I need you.”

I fell silent at his admittance.

“I need you too Red,” I gave him a small smile.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while.

“Why are you always so at odds with Leo? It’s it because if the rivalry or...?” I mused.  

Raph looked away and laughed sheepishly.

“It was that for a while. Then it kinda started to be about you.”

“Me? What did I...?” I felt very insecure all of a sudden.

“Nothin. You didn’t do anything sweets. Leo... he told me to stay away from you. That I would scare you too much. He never bothered to tell me why. I had no idea...” he trailed off lost in thought.

“So why did that bother you?” I thought out loud.

He laughed nervously again.

“Pretty girl stumbles into my home and I’m not allowed to get to know her because of what I am. Gets me pretty pissed. Especially when she’d just run to Leo every time she came back crying and hurt.”

I looked down, not knowing what to say.

“Only to find out that this same pretty girl has some fire to her and isn’t afraid to tell a monster like me to fuck off. That she’s got her own shit to deal with and that’s why she never got close to me.” Raph sighed. “Nothin but a monster to her.”

“You’re not a monster Raph,” I whispered. Daring to look up I saw his green eyes trained on me. “I meant what I said. I’m not afraid of you. I’d never fear that you’d hurt me. Ever. You’re not a monster.” I repeated. “You’re actually pretty great.” I smiled up at him.

“That so?” He grinned.

I laughed and punched his arm.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” I teased.

We fell into another silence.

“You know how to fight don’t you?” Raph asked after I while. I nodded in response.

“Not like you guys obviously, but I grew up in a small redneck town. You learn a thing or two.”

“Then why don’t you ever fight back? Against him?” The turtle sounded confused next to me.

“I tried. A few times. And he called the cops on me...” I studied my hands in my lap. “I... I have no power around him. Either my mom yells at me for trying to fight back or I end up in a jail cell the entire night.”

“You seriously got arrested?”

I nodded and hugged my knees.

“You stop fighting after a while. Just take it, knowing you deserve it because you don’t do anything about it. Must be your fault then.” I muttered.

“No.” Raph almost growled.

I glanced up at him. His fists were clenched and he looked as if he were about to go and track down my brother himself. I cautiously reached out and took his hand. He looked down at me and sighed.

“It’s not your fault sweetheart. I swear it. The abuse... that’s never your blame.” Raph seemed to struggle for the right words.

I offered a small smile and leaned against him slightly.

“Thanks, Red.”

“What’s with that?”

“With what?”

“Calling me Red. You don’t call Leo blue or Donnie purple or nothing.” He explained.

“Oh. Uh. I dunno. Just suits you, I guess. I can stop...” I looked down at my hands.

“Don’t even think about it.” He smiled down at me. I mirrored his expression.

“You got it Red.”

Smiling, I closed my eyes and leaned against the giant turtle, finally relaxing for the first time in a long time.

“Alright, Let’s get you back home.” Raph encouraged.

Again he lifted me as if I weighed nothing and scaled down the building back home.

I could feel a gentle thrum coming from his chest and I didn���t exactly know what it was. It was a sort of gruff cat purr that lulled me to light sleep.  

“What did you do to her!?” I heard Leo accuse.

I felt Raph tense around me.

“Nothin.” He sneered.

“Bullshit.” Leo retorted.

“Leo stop.” I opened my eyes to see the blue-clad turtle inches away. “Please just stop it,” I begged. “It’s okay.”

Seeing the pleas in my eyes Leo backed down and let Raph pass through. My eyes drifted shut and didn’t reopen until I heard a door close behind me. I recognized the old hairband posters and neatly displayed Arsenal of Raph's room.

“Can you stand?” He asked softly. I gave a nod.

Once on my feet, I leaned on the turtle for support before finding my bearings. I smiled softly and turned to the turtle.

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“No, thank you, Darlin.” He smiled back.

Looking at the digital clock on his desk I sighed at the time.

“I need to get home,” I whispered.

“No, stay.”

[tmnt-spear-verse]

Spear-Verse: Hamato Raphael

He is the wall, the second-in-command, or so they let others think. Hierarchy doesn’t really matter for shit to Hamato Raphael, not when it comes to his family— but if it helps keep his family safe to let others think that, then he’ll let them think it. Maybe it’s because he’s the second oldest (technically third if April is counted), or maybe it’s because of the way he has a habit of regularly parking himself at Leo’s side and just a little behind him so he can provide both visible back up for Leo and an unspoken threat toward anyone who might threaten their family. He’s the heaviest of the brothers, the bulkiest; it goes without saying that on first glance he can be intimidating as shell. He has more than mastered the art of scaring people into backing off by just standing there and giving them a look that spells death the instant they step a toe out of line. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t get some entertainment from seeing the fear dance in others’ eyes while he stood silently glaring at them, but at the same time he doesn’t want to instill so much fear that a person might attack.

Oh he likes his fights, his brawls, and not having to hold back while beating the crap out of whoever dares to be a serious threat (he could spend all day kicking the shit out of the human-supremacist group who tried to kill Leo, that’d be a special treat), but at the same time he thoroughly recognizes that keeping his family safe means trying to prevent a lot of fighting. One thing Raph takes seriously above everything else is keeping his family safe and alive.

He is the wall, the brawler, the brawn; he’s the one who can take the hits the others can’t, the one who can plant himself in place and hold the line to give his family time to get in place to strike— or time to get away right before he bails himself. He considers himself the last line of defense, the one who can’t and won’t break, because that’s what his family needs him to be. It wasn’t something he was ever told to do, his father never would have put that burden on his shoulders, but it’s something Raph chose to do early on. Nothing could sway him away from it and by the time his family noticed, he had already been firmly anchored in the role in his mind. The wall, the protector, the defender— if becoming the most terrifying sonuvabitch for others to face down was what it took to keep his family safe, then he’d do it.

Yet there’s another side to it, a side that demands that he put down his sais, let go of the urge to growl so loudly that it vibrates in others’ bones, and release the rage that he has painstakingly learned to use as a tool over the years rather than letting it control him. Being the protector of their family can’t mean a whole hell of a lot if the only language he can speak is violence, so soon after Splinter escaped with them from NYC Raph took it upon himself to learn.

His earliest lesson was in protecting his brothers from nightmares, snapping awake at the first hint of a sound of distress from one of his brothers to take his place by their side as a reminder that they’re safe. Mikey was the first to have Raph at his side, wrapping his arms around him, promising that he’d never let anyone touch him— with as deep a rumbling growl underlying his words as he was capable of when they were 8— but he certainly wasn’t the only one. Raph’s become so used to curling around his brothers after they’ve snapped awake or at the first hint of a nightmare that it’s second nature at this point. If he had ever bothered counting the number of times it’s happened, he’s long since lost track.

Then there was the bear when they were 9, which had been a little too interested in Donnie while they had been at the nearest river. Bears didn’t care about ninjas and what ninjas could or couldn’t do, they couldn’t understand, so Raph had put himself between Donnie and the bear and hissed— and when that hadn’t been enough to get the bear to leave he’d screamed. The very first battle-howl any of them made, and it had torn from Raphael’s throat to get the bear to leave his little brother alone. It worked (the bear had bolted actually), and in it working Donnie had realized that the four of them could weaponize some of the sounds they could make. Raph had gotten plenty of practice using that battle-howl since, they all had, and nothing made others panic faster than all four of them howling in unison. And yet, even with the violence of that action, something gentle had grown out of it. Allowing themselves to make that howl, and Splinter encouraging them to learn how to use it with precision, also gave them permission to play around with other sounds. Chirps, purrs, clicks, huffs, snarls, snorts, hisses, and growls gradually crept in with increasing frequency, especially after they made a game of it. Or several. There were even some in-jokes that consisted of nothing but a set pattern of noises they made. It also turned out to be easier to show that he wasn’t as mad as he frequently came off as depending on the quality of the noises he was making. As Mikey once put it, there was a difference between his ‘Raph being Raph’ growls and his ‘Raph is about to murder everyone’ growls— which had the effect of letting his brothers know just how much they could pick, tease, and be obnoxious before he had enough.

And then there had been their earliest times in the treetops, scrapes and bruises that he had locked away in his mind on the initial assumption that they wouldn’t happen after the four of them had enough practice. Beginning to hunt— actively hunting and not just using snares or spear-fishing like they had up until they were 15— made it clear that practice could only account for so much. Racing through the trees in pursuit of rapidly moving prey proved just how easy it was to get those scrapes and bruises, or even gashes, without noticing until well after the fact. His own slashed arms and legs and ripped out scales never bothered him half as much as seeing blood dripping from his brothers, so he put his mind to a solution. Mending the straps and belts for their weapons or sewing together pieces of leather for the walls of their home had already been a chore he’d been reasonably skilled at by that point, it hadn’t been much of a stretch to take that knowledge and apply it to creating the sleeves and lower-leg guards that the four of them wore on a regular basis— color-matching the beads on the ends of the ties to their masks had been just as much for the practicality of telling whose was whose at a glance as it had been for the small bit of flare.

And then there had been that night, the night that haunted Hamato Raphael as none other had before or since, the night he almost lost his older brother. He was the wall, he was supposed to be the wall, but on that night he’d been too far away from Leo. They had plowed into a ‘camp’ of human-supremacists to free a mutant that the supremacists intended to kill, an alligator they came to know as Leatherhead, but it went south quickly. True, the humans weren’t skilled fighters like they had been at the time, but when someone swings an ax at another person it doesn’t matter how skilled a fighter that person is if they get hit. Leo falling back as he got hit was probably what saved him, but even that wouldn’t have mattered if Mikey hadn’t been fast enough to body-check the bastard before he could bring the ax down on Leo again. Even despite that, despite the fact that they were able to pick up Leo and get Leatherhead out so they could run, Raphael can never forget the sight of his older brother laying on the ground, stunned and with blood seeping from his plastron as a human stood over him raising an ax to bring it down on him a second time. He can’t forget the slick feeling of blood trickling down his arms as he carried Leo in his arms and ran, or the way Leo kept having hitching gasps of pain as he tried to think clearly only to be brought up short by the pain tearing through his chest. He can’t forget how terrified he was to carry Leo on his back, scared that Leo would lose consciousness and fall or that he would land too roughly and cause Leo to smash his already damaged plastron into his carapace. He can’t forget being terrified that Leo was going to die before they could get him home and Donnie could do anything. He can’t forget the nightmare mental images that had run through his mind, of his older brother’s hollowed-out shell going to join the other ‘trophies’ the supremacists had ‘collected’ from mutants who hadn’t been fortunate enough to be saved.

And because he couldn’t forget, couldn’t stop blaming himself for not being close enough, and was scared that the weak spot in Leo’s plastron would get him killed until it completely healed, Raphael took it upon himself to make a durable breastplate for Leo that could grant him at least a little more physical protection. It was a relief that he didn’t have to explain himself to Leo at that time, that he didn’t have to argue, that Leo simply accepted it and had been wearing it since— even long past the time where the injury had healed and the damaged scutes shed. He insisted on sleeping next to Leo for a solid three months after that night. No one argued.

Meeting April provided another lesson, another stitch in the fabric of his self-concept of what being the wall for his family meant. Things had been bad for her; the old antique store where she’d stayed with her dad in NYC had been set fire to because Kirby O’neil had refused to bend before the would-be warlord in the area who had been trying to seize control. Kirby unfortunately hadn’t made it, but since Raph and his brothers had been in the area on one of their many scavenging runs they’d been able to run off the Purple Dragons and get April out. She’d been upset— she had every right to be, she had just watched her dad die and her home go up in flames— but despite that she came out swinging and spitting like an angry cat ready to take on the world. She didn’t care how terrifying the brothers looked, how when it came to the mutants who had become increasingly common after the collapse their behavior was varied and unpredictable from one individual to the next, or that the four of them radiated danger from the moment they swept in and started picking off the Purple Dragons one-by-one until they were noticed outright. All that mattered was that the Purple Dragons had killed her father and destroyed her home, and that she knew the four of them were there to help her. And after things had settled, after it was established that she had nowhere else to go because her family had been scattered before the collapse and she had no way of knowing where to even begin looking or how to get to them, Hamato Raphael had been the one to surprise both himself and his brothers by suggesting that she should live with them. Considering that he’d essentially gotten an older sister out of it, one he’d gotten close to over the years, he counted it as an unexpected positive. Being the wall didn’t mean just keeping others out for his family’s safety, it also meant knowing when to let people in.

And Casey-mother-fucking-Jones… The self-same maniac who became Raph’s best friend. Their first encounters were rough— they’d gotten into no less than five brawls the first five times the two of them bumped into each other— but stumbling across each other while they each independently had been looking to make things difficult for the Purple Dragons had provided some unexpected clarity, and a truce that had lasted far beyond when they had expected it to drop. Casey had initially been wary, which was fair since some mutants were bastards or off their nut, but somehow in the course of their brawls and fighting together against the Dragons the two of them had worked out what to expect from each other. Apparently the shared language of their fists had been enough. They were on the same wavelength, and in a bizarre way it had almost been like they were reflections of each other. And then it turned out that Casey, like April, was alone. Unlike April however, he’d been constantly on the move in NYC ever since he started up his one-person war against the Purple Dragons and anyone like them, just to make certain that they couldn’t easily find him and that others were less likely to get caught in the crossfire.

Casey going with Raph back to his home had been intended to be temporary, just a break so that he could stop running for a week or two and get some rest. Instead he settled in like everyone else and him being there became part of their new normal. That in and of itself would have been fine, he had never cared that the people he had moved in with were (mostly) a family of mutants, but then the jackass went and tested Raph’s patience. Banter and bickering between Casey and Donnie came quick and easy almost from moment one, but then Casey had decided (of all things) to start flirting at April— and because Donnie was Donnie he immediately had to point out that Casey doing so was annoying in the extreme because he did not want to see someone flirting at the person who was essentially his older sister in front of him (a sentiment which Raph thoroughly agreed with). And of course, naturally, Casey-mother-fucking-Jones had to be a smartass and immediately flip it around and start flirting at Donnie. Raph had never wanted to scream or strangle someone so badly in his life. And yet, even despite having to occasionally remind himself not to do so and that one did not strangle and/or murder their friends when said friends chose to flirt at their siblings, during one such infuriating incident Raph came to the sudden realization that if Casey ever died he wouldn’t know what to do. It was one thing to complain and give threats that lacked any sincerity, but when— in an effort to calm himself down— Raph asked himself what he would do if Casey actually did die, he came to the sudden and profound realization that he would have felt just as he had on the night his family had almost lost Leo. Being the wall also meant having instances of not noticing someone had slipped in and was close until they’d already been there awhile and having to be comfortable with that.

It also meant having a shit ton more patience than he would have ever expected.

Hamato Raphael is the wall for his family; the protector, the defender, the brawn, and the brute strength. He’s also the one who has learned to create practical things for their well-being, soothed nightmares, taken others into his home when those others had no one else, learned patience well and beyond his ingrained first impulses, and the one who pushed his family into the realization that there was no need for them to be as ‘human’ as possible when just being themselves could easily ensure their survival. He is a fighter who will not disguise who and what he is: ninja, protector, predator, mutant turtle, ‘monster’ to his enemies, and— yes— occasional hothead who charges into a brawl when he feels it’s warranted. And he isn’t even the most terrifying of his family, though few outside the family know that. He’s willing to leave that nightmare-fuel shit to Mikey and stick with what he’s always been. He’s far from perfect, but just so long as his family comes out alive and intact then he feels he has not a single damned thing to apologize for. And if anyone doesn’t like him as he is, then he’s not going to waste his time even giving two shits about their opinion.

[keiziahknight1886]

Alive: to Live is to Love

[A Detroit: Become Human, Markus x reader story]

Prologue

In a quiet room on a quiet day, a figure was seen turning on the bed. Opening bright e/c eyes she scanned her surroundings for a moment and sat up to stretch her arms, she then stood up from the bed to completely stretch her body with a yawn.

The woman now stood in her green floral night gown and walked to the windows to open the curtains.

She smiled brightly as she took in the sunlight and looked outside the window, it was a nice and beautiful morning no doubt.

Her thoughts were cut when the soft sound of the piano echoed outside the door, she smiled and hummed along at the rather... intimate song and knew only one person could have produced such a melody.

She made her way outside the door and her thoughts were proven right when she saw a rather handsome young man playing the piano.

She leaned on the railing outside her door and watched the young man's fingers grace the piano as he played the intimate tune.

She found herself swaying as she closed her eyes, appreciating the song, and when it had stopped she opened them again to find two pairs of eyes looking at her.

"Good morning, Y/n." The young man greeted with a smile.

"Good morning, Markus." She smiled back.

"Well, look who's late for breakfast again." Another voice cut in and Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes playfully and smiled.

"Good morning to you too, Dad."

Carl Manfred only shook his head at his daughter with a smile as he rolled his wheelchair to fully glace up at her.

"Go on, go get yourself fixed up so you could have breakfast."

"Yes, Dad." Y/n smiled again and went back to her room to prepare herself for the day.

Carl turned back to Markus whose eyes followed her until she was in her room and when she was he had turned his attention to his owner who looked at him solemnly.

"One day I won't be here to take care of the both of you anymore."

Carl started as he took a glace at Y/n's door.

"You'll have to protect yourselves, and make your choices."

He put his focus back on Markus who seemed to be contemplating the words as Carl continued.

"Decide who you are, and wanna become. This world doesn't like those who are different, Markus. Don't let anyone tell you who you should be."

Markus listened quietly and let Carl's words sink into his memory. The older man then requested to be bought to the studio and so he complied. As Markus and Carl went to the studio Y/n came out of her room looking fresh and awake as she wore a lovely and colorful outfit she then made her way to the kitchen and ate the breakfast Markus had prepared for her. She smiled to herself as she ate, the food on her plate was her favorite breakfast choice and Markus sure knew how to make it to perfection. After her meal Y/n went to the studio and saw Markus arranging some things inside while her father painted. Upon closer look Y/n noticed Markus' clothes and immediately went straight to him to figure out what had happened. "Markus, what happened to your clothes?" She asked in a rushed tone. "Oh it's nothing. Just some demonstrators in the street, Y/n." "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Markus' LED light flashed yellow before returning to it's previous blue as he looked at the concern on Y/n's face. "They just pushed me around, Y/n. I'm fine." Y/n huffed and crossed her arms as she looked at him. He saw the look of anger and distaste on her face and this in turn caused his LED to flash yellow again. "If you're going to go out you should at least tell me so that I could go with you. If I were there I wouldn't have let them hurt you." Markus' LED continued flashing yellow as he heard this. It was strange to him how most humans hated his being and yet Carl and Y/n treated him kindly, especially Y/n after hearing her statement. "That won't be necessary. I don't want to be a bother." Y/n smiled as she shook her head. "You would never be a bother to me, Markus. So next time tell me okay? I'll even wake up extra early for you." She giggled and Markus could only stare at her mumbling a silent okay as she walked away from him to roam around. - As Y/n roamed around she found herself looking outside the window and appreciated the colors, beauty and aesthetic of the neighborhood. Being Carl Manfred's daughter did have it's perks, especially environment wise since she loves to paint landscapes. When she turned back to look at the two she saw Markus by a canvas painting away as Carl watched. She smiled and walked towards the back of Carl's wheelchair and hugging him lovingly from behind. Carl patted Y/n's arms around him as they both watched Markus finish his piece. When he was done, a perfect replica of Carl's recent painting was on the canvas. Carl wheeled himself closer to inspect Markus' work and Y/n stood closely by. "That is a perfect copy, of reality. But painting is not about replicating the world, it's interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see." "Carl, I don't... think I can do that. It's not in my program... I..." "Go on, go, try, grab that canvas." Markus looked at Carl as if he were unsure then his gaze went up to Y/n and she smile enthusiastically at him. "Go on, Markus. It's okay." She encouraged sweetly. And so, Markus grabbed another blank canvas and replaced the one on the easel. "Do something for me, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Trust me." Markus looked at Carl unsure but after another glance at Y/n he did as he was told as she watched him with fascination. "Try to imagine something that doesn't exists. Something you've never seen. Now, concentrate... on how it makes you feel... and let your hand drift across the canvas." As Markus closed his eyes the image of Y/n crossed his mind, he let his hand do the work as only a few words came with her image. Humanity Kindness As Markus painted with his eyes close Y/n couldn't help but be mesmerized. This was the first time she's seen Markus paint and she could feel the raw emotion that came with it. She was unsure, could androids feel emotion? Were they capable of such things? Sure Markus was kind and calm but she thought it out as just his programming. Of course she didn't treat him as just a machine since that was morally wrong for her and it was easy to forget that he wasn't human since could be playful at times too but having such a deep range of emotion was something that Y/n had never thought about. As Markus finished his painting Y/n gasped at what she saw. It was a painting of a woman that was looking out the window, upon closer inspection she saw how closely it resembles her features even thought the woman was mostly turned away.

"Oh my God..." Carl was as amazed as Y/n was and he knew for a fact that that was his daughter in Markus' painting. They both looked at it in wonder but the moment was suddenly broken when the door opened and a man walked in. "Hey, dad." The three turned around and Y/n could feel the anger rising up inside her at the sight of the man. "Leo..." Carl spoke in disbelief. "I didn't hear you come in." "Ah, I was in the neighborhood... I thought I'd stop by... It's been a while right?" Carl wheeled himself to look at Leo as Y/n crossed her arms and glared at him. "You alright? You don't look so good." When Y/n took a closer look at Leo she could see him gittering as if he was energized. She took a step closer to her father as Markus watched closely. "Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine... Hey listen, uh... I need some cash, Dad." "Again?" "God, here we go." Y/n muttered as she rolled her eyes. "What happened to the money I just gave you?" "Uh well, it just goes, you know?" "Yeah..." "Dad, don't give him what he wants." Y/n hissed as she glared at him earning an equal glare from her brother. "You shut up, Y/n." He angrily replied. "Yeah, you're on it again, aren't you?" "No, no, no, I swear it's not that..." As Markus quietly put things away he observed Carl and Leo's conversation, most if his attention was on Y/n as he saw the pure anger that radiated off her. His diagnostics showed that both her and Carl were experiencing an increase in blood pressure though Y/n's was more prominent. "The answer is no." After that things got heated. "You'll say no to me but you'll say yes to everything that Y/n does?!" "That's because I actually do something with my life instead of getting high on drugs!" "Oh, so just because you're Dad's little angel means you can do whatever the hell you want!?" "I've done nothing but love and look after Dad! And you? What have you done? Leave and leech off of him because he's got the money!" "And you don't?! You stay here in his house and do the exact same thing and don't pretend you don't, you b*tch!" "How dare you!" "Stop!" Carl shouted but that only seemed to fuel Leo's anger. His attention then shifted to Markus and he proceeded to yell various things at him. Ending at- "This thing, is not your son. IT'S A F***ING MACHINE!" Leo pushed Markus and that sent Y/n over the edge. "Stop it!" Y/n pushed Leo away and shielded Markus with her being as his LED flashed from red to yellow. "What? Are you gonna protect this damn machine, Y/n?" "This "machine" is a much better person than you could ever be!" "What the f*** did you just say?!" "Leo, that's enough!" Before Leo could lay a hand on Y/n Carl's voice echoed throughout the room. "Enough." Leo backed off before looking at Carl with evident distaste on his face. "You never cared about anything except Y/n and your goddamn paintings." Leo walked back as Y/n glared daggers at him. "You've never loved me, Dad..." As he walked away Y/n could hear him mumble under his breath and after that he finally left. Markus looked at Leo's retreating form as he left and when he does his eyes glanced back to Carl making sure he was stable. After seeing that Carl has calmed down his eyes darted to Y/n who was now wiping tears from her eyes. His LED flashed yellow and Markus could feel something, what it was he didn't know but the sensation came when he saw Y/n crying. Y/n on the other hand walked towards Carl and went down on both her knees in front of him to hug his torso. Carl slowly patted her head and Markus could see her shoulders shake. As hard as Y/n made herself out to be a strong woman her emotions still got the best of her and although she wanted to stay calm and collected she couldn't. "Come on, we've got a party to go to later." Carl pushed Y/n slowly away from him to wipe her tears away and gave her smile. "Wouldn't want that pretty face all puffy now do we?" Y/n let out a small laugh before standing up and wiping the remaining tears from her eyes. "I'll go wash my face then." She smiled at Carl before smiling at Markus and left the studio to go back to her room. As she left Markus kept his eyes on her, his LED still flashing yellow. ------- The rest of the day went by without any more problems and when night came the Manfreds came back to their home from the so called cocktail party. "That was by far the most boring party I've been to in the last 25 years." Y/n giggle as she entered the house with Markus and Carl, Markus couldn't help but smile at her as they both listened to Carl complain and Markus trying to make it sound more positive. "Oh come on, Dad. It wasn't that bad." She giggled as she handed Markus her coat while giving him a quick thanks. "Come on, let's have a drink! All the excitement of this whole thing has made me thirsty." "We just came home from a cocktail party." Y/n rebutted but never the less followed Markus and Carl to the living room. As Markus pours the scotch on the glasses Y/n couldn't help but shake her head as her father said he could choose his own medication. "Still isn't healthy for you, Dad." "Yeah, yeah." As Markus finished the drinks Carl noticed that the lights were on in the studio. He asked if either one of them left the lights on and when the two responded no Y/n could feel her nerves sky rocket. "Call the police." Carl spoke and Markus called immediately. When the confirmation of the police being on their way was heard Carl opted to go and see who it was that was in there. "Dad..." Y/n started nervously but got no response. They went inside the studio and found a figure leaning on the table with what seemed to be a painting. "Leo." Y/n hissed in anger. "Leo! What are you doing?!" Leo had admitted that he was planning on selling the paintings that Carl made and some of Y/n's landscape work was near him too, she was seething in rage and she wanted nothing more than to throw Leo out of the house. "Think of it as a downpayment on my inheritance." "You a**hole! You have no idea how hard Dad and I worked on those paintings! "Huh, who knew you were such a potty mouth, Y/n." Before Y/n could lunge at him Carl had already told Markus to make him leave, Markus tried to be reasonable but Leo just wouldn't budge. Leo became hostile and started berating Markus who stood there and quietly taking all of it. "Leave him alone!" Carl screamed at Leo but he pushed him away. "Dad!" Y/n rushed to her father and looked to see Leo was pushing Markus around. Y/n was filling with anger for her brother and Carl was begging Markus not to do anything. When Leo continued pushing Markus Carl had yelled at him to stop, Y/n was getting fed up with him and when Leo pushed Markus again she shoved him aside and stood in front of Markus. "Just stop it, Leo!" Y/n shouted but that only seemed to anger him more. "What are you gonna protect him, huh, you f***ing b*tch!" Leo had slapped Y/n's face, the force causing her to hold the table beside her for balance and seeing this, something inside Markus had snapped. The only words Markus could register at that moment were- //I must PROTECT Y/N// As if everything had stopped, Markus came face to face with a wall. In his anger he forcefully slammed into the wall until the last hit finally broke it and he felt a sudden rush inside his body. He felt a sensation.

He felt free. Y/n had become dazed from the sudden hit, not believing that even as deranged as he is her own brother had hit her. In her state of shock it didn't process that Leo had turned to picking on Markus who, at Carl's plead, still stayed silent. When Leo landed a final blow to Markus' stomach the shock began to wear off and the sound of Carl falling made her jump. "Carl, no!" The sound of Markus' plea shook Y/n out of her daze and when she had seen that her father had fallen on the ground her world suddenly came crashing down. "Dad!" Markus and Y/n were now on each of Carl's side. Markus was begging for Carl to hold on while Y/n was crying and holding his hand, unable to form any words. "Carl, don't leave, okay? Please, don't go... don't leave!" Markus continued begging but was silenced when Carl spoke. "Y/n..." he started, "I love you, my sweet, darling girl." Both Markus and Y/n were crying now, Y/n couldn't process what was happening. Was her dad leaving? What was going on? This can't be real. "I'm so proud of you... I know... you'll continue... to paint the world with color..." No. "And..." This can't be real. "Remember, Markus... Don't let anybody... Tell you who you are..." With his final breath, Carl closed his eyes and became still. "Daddy?" Y/n cracked out in her broken voice, staring at her father's silent form... as if he was just sleeping. "No... No... Dad! No, please!" Markus cried. Y/n shook, she couldn't believe this was happening. This was all just a nightmare. "Daddy... No... Daddy, please... Daddy!" Y/n shook Carl's body as if trying to wake him up. Leo spoke but she couldn't register the words, the only thing that had her attention was Carl and his lifeless body. "Daddy, please wake up! Daddy, wake up! Daddy!" Markus felt intense sadness at this very moment, after breaking the wall he felt and realized so many things and yet it was too late. The man he looked up to like a father now laid on the ground, still as a rock, and the woman who had been nothing but kind and caring towards him was crying her eyes out and he couldn't do anything to comfort her. Seeing her broken like this made his heart break even more. The realization that he cared deeply for her hitting him like a ton of bricks. Before Markus could do anything the police arrived and he stood up fearing that Y/n would get hurt. "It was the android." Leo spoke up. A sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the room and Y/n was brought back only to look at the horrifying sight of Markus lying on the ground with his own blue blood. "What are you doing?!" She cried out. "Don't worry ma'am, we have this under control." The police officer replied. Y/n stood up and watched in horror as Markus was being dragged away like a rag doll and she couldn't process everything that was happening. First her father and now Markus. "Stop! How could you?! He did nothing wrong! Hey!" Leo stood in front of her and held her back as the policemen made their way out of the house. When Y/n had realized that both Carl and Markus were gone she dropped down limp on the floor. She was staring at the door that Markus had previously been dragged out of and she felt reality sink in. Her world came crashing down. Intense sadness overcame her and her father's last words registered to her. She can't paint the way he wanted to now, the world had completely lost its color. Her world had completely lost its color. Now it was all dark. No more sunshine. No more beauty. Everything was just black. xX0Xx I told myself I wouldn't post a story that was unfinished since that's not fair to you readers but I wanted to see how you guys would feel about this. I hope you guys liked it and leave a comment if you want so that I can have your feedback!

Thank you for reading the first part of Alive: to Live is to Love!

Chapter 1

[nikanndros]

The Post-Canon Time Travel AU

[Prologue] [Act I: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5] [Act II: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5] [Act III: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3]

Act III, Part 4.

The thought of being away from Damen, when he is so close, is unbearable, so Laurent continues to sneak into his rooms at night despite the lack of courting. Usually, Laurent can leave quietly before daybreak and be back in his own rooms before anyone can notice he left. One morning, this plan is foiled by a late night visitor.

Laurent is sleeping against Damen’s chest when they hear the light knock on the door. It opens slowly, and Damen sits up.

It’s Nikandros, lit by the moon coming in through the windows, and against his chest he holds a whimpering Ione. Nikandros glances fleetingly at Laurent before he focuses entirely upon Damen.

“What’s wrong?” Damen says, his hair a mess of curls.

Nik opens his mouth to explain, but the infant cuts in. “Baba,” she says, tearfully. Then, at the sight of Laurent, “...Mama?”

Laurent picks his head up, and she recoils in shock. “Baba! That’s not mama!”

“This is Laurent,” Damen says. “You met him earlier.”

“Briefly,” Nikandros replies, in defense of the infant clutching itself to his chest. “She had a bad dream and has been crying for you and Jokaste.”

Nikandros then drops Ione into Damen’s lap, and then while Damen is distracted, he finally looks at Laurent properly. Laurent can’t quite read his expression, but he certainly isn’t pleased. “I’m going back to bed,” he says after a long moment. “I’ll take her back before your first meeting.” And then he leaves.

Laurent looks at Damen, who is now cradling his daughter. Ione is gently babbling to him about how scary Vere is and that she wants to go home.

“We’ll go home soon, little one,” Damen says, patting her hair.

She has his curls, and his dimples set into her chubby cheeks. Laurent smiles softly. They make a pretty picture together: someone as indomitable as Damen genty holding an infant in his arms.

She huffs out a breath and looks at Laurent suspiciously.

“Hello,” Laurent says.

“Say hello to Laurent,” Damen prompts.

Ione does an admirable job of trying to pronounce his name.

“When I was your age,” Laurent says, “my family used to call me Lolo. You may too if you’d like.”

Ione smiles. “I like your hair,” she says. “It’s yellow.”

“Thank you,” Laurent replies. “I like your hair too.”

“Cassi has yellow hair,” Ione tells him.

Laurent glances at Damen.

“Cassiope,” he explains. “My other daughter.”

Laurent hasn’t gotten round to asking Damen about it yet, but he has noticed him using plurals when referring to his children. “Do you have any other siblings?” Laurent asks.

Ione looks confused.

“Tell Laurent about your brother and sister,” Damen says.

“Cassi is my sister,” she says. “She’s littler than me. And Leo is a baby. He’s not fun yet, but mama says he will be one day.”

“How lovely,” Laurent replies, and then to Damen: “Three kids?”

“Yes,” Damen replies. “Maybe more in Vask, but that was true of our last life as well.”

By the time Ione falls asleep against Damen’s chest, it’s not long before sunrise.

“I should go,” Laurent says, kissing Damen chastely. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Try to get some more sleep,” Damen replies.

“Fatherhood suits you,” Laurent says, before he leaves. It’s true. He won’t pretend he hasn’t before thought about Damen with children - children that inherit his goodnature and sweetness. But that hadn’t been a viable possibility for heirs when they were both kings together. Laurent is glad that, out of everything, Damen has at least been given this one gift in their new lives.

-

Damen and Auguste actually manage to get along quite well in the following days. They are both naturally charismatic and loving men and so it doesn’t surprise Laurent that the forced proximity in meetings causes them to bond a little.

Damen ducks into Laurent’s rooms after they break for lunch one day. “I think the situation is improving,” Damen tells him, ever the optimist. “He’s still insistent that I cannot court you, but he also admitted that I’m not as barbaric as he originally thought.”

“Only you can take distrustful Veretians and turn them into friends,” Laurent replies.

“Friends?” Damen says, smiling. “Is that what we are?”

Laurent has to pull Damen towards him at that, and kiss him soundly on the mouth.

“Prince Laurent!” Damen says, in a scandalised tone. “In broad daylight!”

Laurent laughs; they are in his sitting room and his newly appointed guard Lazar is off admiring the foreigner’s chitons, so there is no danger of them being caught here. “I can stop if you want me to.”

Damen kisses him again. “No,” he says. “You’ve seduced me.”

He unlaces Laurent’s jacket, with an expert’s proficiency and tugs it off his shoulders.

“Do we have time?” Laurent asks.

“I’m willing to skip lunch,” Damen says. “You are a much more satisfying meal.”

Laurent unpins Damen’s chiton at the top, so that it falls to his waist and reveals his bare, muscular chest. “At least you are in no risk of wasting away from one skipped meal.”

Damen fists a hand in Laurent’s hair - he hasn’t said as much yet, but Laurent knows he likes it long, likes to grip it - and lays down a series of long, heated kisses down Laurent’s neck. Laurent lets his head fall back. The collar of his gauzy white undershirt has been unlaced enough to fall down his shoulders and reveal more skin for Damen to lay claim to.

Laurent makes a small noise of pleasure. They had been voracious lovers before coming to this world, but something about the time spent apart and the uncertainty in their current relationship has lended them to a new level of insatiable desire. Every opportunity they get to kiss and touch and make love behind closed doors they take. Laurent has no complaints about that.

They must look unspeakably erotic like this: Damen, with his bared muscles, taking a flushed and partly unclothed lover into his muscular arms. He softly puts his hands on Damen’s waist. Sometimes Laurent is taken by the urge to clutch Damen tightly to him and drag his nails down his skin in pleasure. He controls the urge, especially now that Damen’s back is a blank canvas again - he will not contribute to marring it again.

Then is the sound of the door opening and Laurent remembers too late that his brother never knocks.

“Auguste,” Laurent says, pushing Damen away.

Lazar is standing in the doorway next to Auguste, looking sheepish. He must have told Auguste about Damen and Laurent fucking. Auguste is silent for long enough for Laurent to realise that this is not the first time in this world that Auguste has walked in on his younger brother in a sexual situation.

Auguste, face filled with a kind off all-consuming rage that Laurent has never seen before, pulls the sword from Lazar’s belt and comes forward at Damen.

Lazar moves to stop Auguste, and gets the solid impact of an elbow to the nose for his efforts.

“Arm yourself, Damianos,” Auguste demands.

“Auguste, stop,” Laurent says, horrified.

“Turn around, Laurent,” Auguste replies. “I won’t make you watch this.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” Damen says. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?!” Auguste repeats, because no one in existence has ever gotten calmer at those words. “You come into my country and defile my brother against my wishes, and you expect me to calm down! Get your sword now or I will fight you unarmed.”

Laurent hates the way Auguste uses the word defile: as if he is something to be tainted or made dirty. It took him years to stop feeling that way about himself, and to hear his own brother say it is deeply upsetting.

“I won’t fight you,” Damen repeats.

“Fine,” Auguste says, and he draws back his sword and lunges forward.

Damen jumps back and Laurent is unwilling to watch a replay of Marlas. He steps in front of Damen, and the strength that Auguste has to put into stopping his blade mid-swing is reminiscent of Laurent getting between Damianos and Makedon all those years ago. It seems his life is just a replay of awful moments.

“Step out of the way, Laurent,” Auguste orders.

“No,” Laurent replies. “Damen go into the bedroom, now. I need to talk to my brother.”

Damen, who has probably never retreated from a fight before in his life, does as Laurent says, ducking into the bedroom and closing the door. He’s probably going to listen at the door. Laurent rounds on his brother, furious.

“I am an adult,” Laurent hisses. “You have no right to tell me who I can and can’t bed.”

“I am your King. I have every right.”

The implication of ownership makes Laurent’s blood boil. He does not enjoy feeling helpless, or without the power to make his own decisions.

“Fine,” Laurent says, and he gets right up in Auguste’s space and his mind is filled with the angry buzzing that lets him know he’s about to say things he will regret. Usually Damen stops him when he gets to this point, but Damen is in the next room. “I am your subject, then. My body is yours to decide what I do with. I’ll let men fuck me only when you say I can, and you can be just like uncle.”

Auguste slaps him across his face and Laurent’s head snaps sideways with the force. “How dare you--” Auguste shouts.

“Fuck you!” Laurent cuts over him. He’s so angry he can’t think. “You were meant to be there for me! We sat in your tent at Marlas and you promised me you’d come back, you promised you’d always protect me. And then you left me with him! And I kept telling myself that you’d help me, that you’d love me no matter what, that you’d forgive me -- Perhaps I am the one who has to forgive you.”

Auguste is breathing heavily, and he faces Laurent with barely concealed anger. “Do what you want, Laurent,” Auguste says. “Fuck who you want. But if you want me to trust you - you will not spread your legs for our enemy. You can decide what you want more - my trust, or to fuck some barbarian you’ve barely met.”

Auguste turns and storms out, sword clattering to the ground. Lazar, nose red with blood, follows him.

Laurent stands alone in the room for a very long moment, before Damen comes out of the bedchambers again.

“Laurent,” Damen says, sounding mournful. “I don’t want to come between you and your brother.”

Laurent clenches his jaw. “Fuck you too, Damianos,” he says, in the iciest voice he can manage. The ice is cracking. “I will not choose between you. Neither of you will make me.”

[leoandallie]

Leo and Stacy Fight

Leo

After the day with @AllieMasonRP, we continued to text and snap each other silly things. It was late on Saturday and Allie had to work I decided to just enjoy the ocean breeze on the patio with a beer. @StacyRoss_RP was due back soon from work, and I was on my phone studying places nearby to take the motorcycle and my camera for my new shoots. I was due some pictures soon for my contract. I took a long sip on my beer when I heard @StacyRoss_RP come in the apartment.

Stacy

I’d not been in the mood for work today, usually I was all smiles and  chatter but somehow I couldn’t even muster up that. Progressively the day went downhill, it was like I had this overbearing weight on my shoulder and as much as I tried to shake it I just couldn’t It came to a head as I felt his hand grab my ass as I walked by “Bring me a beer darlin” He slurred as he mauled me, I shot around and without thinking I slapped him right across the cheek “Take your slimy hands off me” I said, I’m a time that made most people look Around to see what was happening within seconds it escalated with the manager scurrying over apologizing for MY behavior....My behavior? He grabbed MY ass...I screamed. I couldn’t do this anymore, no one had the right to touch me without my permission, I undid my apron and Threw it on the table, slimy guy still screaming for his beer. “You can stuff your job where the sun don’t shine” And before I knew it I was leaving, heading home with an anger raging inside me. Slamming the door behind me as I let myself in my apartment. LEO! Are you here?

Leo

*hearing Stacy call out, I yell back* I’m outside having a beer. Weren’t you supposed to work till close?

Stacy

I grab two beers from the cooler and head outback, drinking the first one almost straight down as I reach you* That was the idea! But I just fucking quit!

Leo

*my eyes grow wide as I see you down the beer and tell me you quit* what the hell happened? I thought you actually liked that place? *I take a sip on my beer*

Stacy

*I slump down beside you and flip the lid of my second beer* I just flipped, some dick grabbed my ass at the restaurant and I lost it, told them to stuff their job *I look away from you and gaze out over the ocean* I need to get drunk! Are you up for a night out or Have you got plans?

Leo

*finishes my beer and looks at you, then back out to the beech* you’re looking at my plans so going out would be great. Shall we go to The Crossing?

Stacy

*managing a smile for the first time today* Good! Let me do a quick change and then I’m ready....hang on to your hat because I’m in for a long night of alcohol. I hope you’re up for it!!

Leo

*laughs and gets up* I am good as long as you don’t drink yourself sick. *I grab the empty bottles and we head inside*

Stacy

*It takes me less than 10 minutes to change, I’m trying hard to suppress this feeling that I have inside me, I know what’s causing it but I don’t want to face it. Hopefully alcohol will drown it out* Ok are you ready?

Leo

*I dispose of the bottles and quickly change. I walk out* definitely and you look great. I called an Uber. It should be here any minute.

Stacy

*after a short Uber ride we head inside the bar, it’s already pretty lively and the music is drowning out the thoughts I my head. I order four beers and shots to accompany them. Your face is a picture as I slide them over to you* What? I told you....I’m in for the long haul

Leo

*laughs* ok, do I get to drink any of those? Are we going to dance any or just drink? *I don’t wait for your answer, I grab a shot and down it. I proceed to sip on a beer*

Stacy

*I stifle a laugh when the memory of you drunken dancing pops into my head, I knock back the shot, the warm nectar burning my throat* Dancing! After your display back in college? I’ll stick to drinking thanks

Leo

*taking another shot, my throat burning. I glare at you* hey I wasn’t that bad and working up a sweat will feel good *I take a few big sips and finish my beer* but getting drunk could be fun

Stacy

*I beckon to the barman and order some more drink* I have no desire to work up a sweat Leo, drinking is far better! Anyway what is going on with you. I barely see you at the moment?

Leo

*The waitress brings our order and I down another shot. I start to feel the effects of the booze. I take a huge swing of my beer* well I’ve been riding on the bike looking for places to get pictures mostly

Stacy

*I match your actions and down my beer, the negativity and bad feeling slowly starting to ebb away...I watch you as you drink, the occasional flashback flitting inside my head, i honestly don’t remember how or why we ever got together. It seemed like forever ago* So why did You come here Leo? You never did tell me

Leo

*my head spinning, I sip my beer and music pounding. I look down* I like this place. You do too remember

Stacy

*shrugs* I knew you always talked about it but never thought for one moment you’d come all this way, especially as I figured our friendship was done

Leo

*shakes my head* oh you meant here as in Australia *laughs* I needed some place to go. I didn’t like the way things ended with us so why not here? I’m glad we’ve reconnected.

Stacy

*laughing* always the goof ball. Of course I meant Australia. *I hesitate for a moment and wonder if I should say something to address the elephant in the room, but decide against it* Yeah I am glad we have too...you’ve been spending a bit of time away from the apartment Have you hooked up with anyone? *grinnimg and sliding you another shot  across*

Leo

*smirking, I down the shot and look back at you* well your little trick got me with Allie and yes we hooked up. But that was a one time thing, we’re actually developing a friendship

Stacy

*nudges you* well get you!! Finally developing a “relationship” *I make little air speech marks and the hint of sarcasm isn’t lost on you* The mighty Leo finally able to have some kind of commitment with the opposite sex....really though I’m kidding I’m pleased for you What is she like?

Leo

*glares and starts to correct your assumption about our /relationship/ but stop myself. I down a shot and then sip on my beer* she is trying to make it as a singer, she puts up a strong, independent front, but I think deep inside she is hurting. I need to tell you something. *I sip my beer and take a deep breath*

Stacy

*I smile to myself as I listen to you talk about her, sounds like you’ve got it bad. I’m about to trade you about it when you suddenly become all serious* What? What did you do....you didn’t knock her up too did you? *the minute the words leave my mouth i regret it*

Leo

*I slam my beer down when you ask that question and glare* fuck no! I didn’t. Damn it Stacy! *I down the rest of my beer then look at you* I told her!

Stacy

*I almost spit my beer out over the bar and a noise come out of my mouth that resembles a high pitches squeal, it certainly gets the attention of people around us* You did what? Told her what exactly?

Leo

*taking a deep breath and looking around. I down a shot* I told her, about us. About what happened. I’m sorry, but I needed to open up to someone. I trust her

Stacy

*I can’t look at you and for a split second I think I’m going to throw up* How dare you, some tart who you barely know.... *my voice shaky* How dare you tell her about me, she knows nothing about me and YOU needed to open up to someone?? How do you think I feel Leo? You never wanted to talk to me about it??

Leo

*my eyes narrow and the booze still making me dizzy. I hiss* she is not a tart, she’s my friend. And yes, I needed to talk to someone, and till I told her I couldn’t talk with you about it. You didn’t bother to include me in on it when it happened. Fuck, you didn’t want me around to even help you through it. So why should I talk to you about it?

Stacy

You never tried very hard....as soon as I told you, you ran out of my life as fast as your legs could carry you *I catch the barmans eye and hold up 4 fingers, within seconds the beers are in place, I take a long drink* And she is no one to me, you had no right to tell some Stranger you met when you “swiped right” on Tinder about my personal life. People make judgements Leo, when they have no fucking idea what really happened. *the words catch in my throat and I nearly lose it but I can’t let you see just how much this is weighing down on me*

Leo

*I grab a beer and drink half of it quickly. I glare back at you, but try to keep my anger in check* first off you swiped right not me, remember. Second off, it’s my personal life too, so I damn well have the right to discuss it with whomever I choose. Look you’re my friend and we’ve shared a lot of good times and bad times together. You made the right decision for you, I just wish you had included me in it so I could be there for you then. I don’t want this to come between us again.

Stacy

It wouldn’t have come between us, but now I don’t know how to feel. *I inhale deeply and look at you, noting the frown that’s now replaced your once smiling face* Look Leo people judge and condemn women for terminating a pregnancy *the word termination resonates in my head* You think it was easy for me? An abortion to a woman is a form of spiritual self-harm, it isn't an action I would have taken if the alternatives didn't scare me more. We / I / was reckless and I’m paying the price every goddamn day.....the last thing I need is her To pass her judgement over me with hour even knowing. I get you needed to offload, but surely you owed it to me to talk to me first.

Leo

*I take a huge drink from my beer and start my reply* look Allie isn’t like that. I needed a friend, someone that wasn’t involved. *I pause* you know what my mom does for a living. Do you know how many of her friends and coworkers have had unwanted pregnancies and ended up terminating the pregnancies? *just as I ask the question, I look up at the entrance and the line to get and I see her, @AllieMasonRP, waiting in line. I try to look away but our eyes meet. The blood leaves my head and I’m instantly sober. I look at Stacy* look, this is no place to be having this conversation. Let’s get home now. *Stacy looks at me stunned but nods. I put enough money on the table to cover the tab and a nice tip. We get up and head to a side entrance. I look back and see Allie staring with a frown as we walk away. I feel like a total jerk, but this was definitely not the time or place for Stacy and Allie to meet. We get outside and slide into a cab and make our way back to the apartment. We don’t say a word to each other on the ride back and agree that sleep is needed when we get back.* #SLClosed