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Disclaimer: I don't have any real knowledge of Italian names, or the norm between parent and child. I am fully southeast Asian.
The world of Percy Jackson belongs to Rick Riordan. I don't own anything other than my OC's and a couple of ideas.
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~{ The year 2000, New York, Manhattan. }~
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A young child, with beautiful eyes that seemed to morph to one's most favored color when they look into the Child's eyes, gazed to admire what would look like a boring view from their 'private' room on one of the very upper floors in a skyscraper. But for them however, the image that is formed in their minds was a place where people thrived and lived their daily lives in freedom.
Their head leaned on to the glass as they sat comfortably on the mini bed-window. The child's light fluffy hair seemed to reach their hips as the child's small.
For them, the lonely child that isn't stuck in some fairy tale tower by some evil witch. No, Aion De Rose isn't some little kidnapped princess, they're just a—
A click of their room door opening.
"My sweet, pretty girl, mama 's back!"
Their head snapped back to look at the woman with a voice top loud but too nice to cover their ears. Aion stiffened. They stared warily at the woman with an intense smile. She had still- hazel-almost amber eyes in contrast to Aion's fluid ones. She also had a head of blond hair with warm undertones that seemed as though there were rose colored strands of hair included in her locks. Her hands were full with shopping bags (if not more pairs of new designer clothes, some custom jewelry).
But Aion wondered. Their mother shouldn't have visited them that day, or did she already visited them yesterday?
It seemed little Aion had fully tested the amount of silence they could respond. The young child swallowed a sharp breath as the woman frowned. "Why won't you greet me back, my precious daughter? Don't you love your dear mother? I came here early just for you! Is it because I'm so—"
"Sweetheart, " a deep but gentle voice stopped her. "It must be because your Aion is still tired. Look at her, she must've just woken up."
Aion looked up to the old man. He had the same blond hair as the woman they were supposed to call mama, other than his obvious sign of age; grey hairs somehow blending nicely with his shade of blonde, a beard that fit the shape of his face, and a muscular body type, he would've been mistaken as a identical twin to the woman.
After much hesitation, Aion spoke, "I'm not your daughter, "
Aion would soon wish they hadn't said that. Clear rage burned in the woman's now fully amber irises. The young child placed their hand on their burning cheek, trying to calm the pain that had struck from the woman's wrath.
Their supposed mother panted heavily. But then she relaxed, and her eyes fixed on the redness on Aion cheek. A gasp was heard, and the woman fell to her knees, dropping the many paper bags from her elbows. She went near Aion, exclaiming, "Darling Ai! How did you get hurt when I was gone?!"
Aion bit their lip to resist from either letting the contained tears spill, or screaming at the stupid woman. How could she forget? She did it. She was the one, she was the one that hurt them herself.
The child bitterly let the woman inspect the slap mark on their right cheek. Their eyes went to the only man in the room.
"What color are my eyes, grandpa?"
Their grandfather had his normal pitying glaze, but he answered like usual, "dark purple, "
Oh. A different answer. "Not blue?"
Their grandfather shook his head amusingly. "No, my preference has changed, Aion."
Aion, they noticed. Not Ai.
Then they thought resentfully, at least the old man actually used their name. But he still wouldn't correct the fixed gender Angelica, his favorite daughter, chose for them.
The woman still hasn't joined their conversation, now fully immersed into playing with Aion's hair. "You're so pretty, my girl, just like your mother."
Your mother, Aion knew she wasn't referring to herself. Angelica was speaking of the 'goddess'.
Aion met their mother's Hazel eyes, as she smiled, saying, "do you want to try out the things mama has brought, Ai?"
They knew there wasn't really an option, "yes."
"Great!" Angelica clapped her hands happily. She then proceeded to grab something from one of her shopping bags, but she stopped, just noticing that the paper bag was on the floor. Angelica stared at it for a good ten seconds before her father laughed nervously, and grabbed two random bags on the floor.
One was white and had the word, Chanel for its brand. While the other was plain with no logo. Aion's grandfather, Ciro, carefully brought out the things inside and placed it on a nearby stoll.
Angelica hummed a tune as she chose the cream colored chanel dress with a yellow silk bow and sunflowers as details on the collar line.
"Papi, turn around, please." Angelica ordered the man.
Ciro gave a look, but obeyed, nonetheless.
Aion looked down at their current clothes; a peach colored tweed skirt and short sleeved jacket with a black bow tie. It was the outfit that the maids chose for them this morning. They didn't need to be changed so soon, but the child didn't dare object.
They wore the dress that their mother gave them. The young child dangled their feet, waiting to be helped by putting on the matching shoe set by their grandfather. Aion looked at their mother. The woman was smiling with the golden crown with yellow gems as intricate sunflower designs.
When Ciro was finished tying the last laces on the shoes, all that's left is the headpiece on Angelina's fingers.
"You're so beautiful, Ai." Their mother said wistfully.
Aion averted their eyes to prevent them from frowning. They don't enjoy the many compliments their mother gave them anymore. They don't blush and mutter shy thank yous anymore.
The child felt a weight on their head, indicating the completion of Angelica's dress-up.
And now, that the image is complete, Angelica will admire Aion all day.
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Aion didn't bother to squeeze in a polite 'thank you' to the maid that set up their meal. The child normally would have eaten the delivered food by the servants in their room on one of the desks, unless it was one of Angelica's visits. Tonight, Ajon had to eat on the large dinner table with their grandfather and mother.
"What have you been spending your time on before we came, Aion?" Ciro asked, taking another bite of steak.
Aion's eyes wandered around till they landed on the grand piano. "I practiced some piano." They decided.
Their grandfather hummed in agreement and nodded.
The moment passed with the sound of utensils clinking on plates till Aion spoke up.
"Mama," Angelica stared at him. "Can I go outside?"
Aion expected an outburst and rejection of their question like usual. But shockingly, Ciro answered first.
"Sure,"
Angelica widened her eyes and opened her mouth. However, her father shook his head, "Sweetheart, Aion has never gone outside this floor since she was born."
The woman's brow was nit together, her eyes shook worriedly. "But Papi, what if some evil man took her away? What if she turned up like my si–"
Ciro placed his hand on top of Angelica's. "Now one will take her away, I promise you, Angelica. "
Even with those words, Aion's mother glanced back and forth between them and Ciro's hand. After a few minutes, Aion lost hope. Their shoulders sunken, and they let out a sigh.
they heard a reluctant, "A‐alright, "
Aion's brows shot up, their eyes rounded. "Really?!"
Angelica looked unsure, but nodded nevertheless. The child jumped out of their seat, hearing a "Aion!" From their grandfather. However, Aion wrapped their hands around their mother in gratefulness.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! thank you, mama! I love you!"
They were sure this warm feeling of being in the embrace of their mother is love. Because for the first time in Aion's life, their mother had allowed him to go to the outside world.
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~{ Aion De Rosè's private floor, 1996, the 14th of April. }~
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"My little Ai," Angelica cooed as the sound of a child's giggle graced her ears. "You know, darling. Your other mother is a goddess,"
Aion curiously looked up from the lap of their mother. Angelica had a far-away look in her eyes, as if dreaming about catching an unattainable star in the night sky. "A goddess, mama?"
Their mother nodded her head. "Yes, the most beautiful goddess of them all. You were born from your mama and an incredible lady. There was no man involved. " She sounded almost vengeful saying that. Then Angelica looked down at her child, and smiled, "but no matter, you're my adorable little girl. "
A girl. A girl. A girl. It was always either a girl or a nasty man. But Aion, he….didn't feel any attachment to either of those identities.
This was the start of their mother's changes.
"Am I really a girl, Mama?" Aion had always felt that word to be false.
Aion's mother flushed in outrage. "What else would you be? A male?! Ai, never speak of this nonsense ever again!!"
Angelica stood up before Aion had any time to prepare.their head hit the wall, hard. They whimpered in pain and lightheadedness. "Mama…? What's wrong?"
Why is she suddenly being so harsh?
The four year old child blinked some blur to meet a harsh scowl on their mother's face.
"I'm sorry, Mama.."
Aion saw their mother's face returned to her gentle look. "It's not alright to say that, my baby. You're my little girl, after all." She went to embrace her child's body, caressing their head.
After a few moments, Angelica spoke again. "Do you want to hear more about your mother, Ai?"
It was difficult to move their head, but Aion nodded, bobbing their head.
Angelina's eyes drifted away as she told them something about a goddess called—"Aphrodite was a wonderful woman. She somehow had features that just couldn't be solid, " she looked down at Aion. "Very much like your pretty eyes, darling. "
Aion fought back the uncomfortableness of the comparison. "Like how I can't tell what color it is in the mirror?"
Their mother smiled. "Why, yes! It always changes to who sees it wants it to be."
"Then what color is it now, Mama?" Aion wondered.
Angelina's gaze stilled for a moment, as if relieving an odd moment.
But then she answered, "Rosy pink, they were always rosy pink."
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~{ The day Aion was born, 1992, the 10th of March, in a hospital in New York.}~
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"Congratulations, miss! You have safely given birth to a wonderful healthy boy!" A nurse happily informed, no where near expecting the upcoming reaction.
"A boy?" Angelica repeated, not giving any mind to the hand getting tighter on her shoulder.
"Yes..?" The puzzled nurse said.
Instantly, the mother tried to reach at a vase near her, her body hoping to stand up, before being stopped by three hasty pairs of hands. One from her own father, another from the confused nurse, the last, an alarmed doctor.
"Sweetheart, calm down, deep breaths, one—"
"No, Papi! You said the ultrasound told you I was having a girl! How will my baby even resemble hi–"a choke sound. "No! Her other mother if they're male?!" She angrily yelled at him.
The older man glanced at the two hospital staff. The doctor just shook his head and the nurse lowered her sadly.
Ciro De Rosè sighed. He rubbed his hand on his daughter's back reassuringly. "My dear, your child is not a boy. He is fully female." For his only daughter, he'd sacrifice the world for her. That even included his grandson's choice in his own gender.
Angelica now had a pleased expression, a small smile, the restlessness in her eyes was already gone. "That's great! Papi, choose her name please?"
Ciro hid his pitying look with a warm smile. "Aion. Aion De Rose. "
The mother clapped her hands, head nodding. "Lovely! I will call her Ai!"
Ai, the old name of her deceased older sister. Ciro now could stop his pained expression. "Sweetheart, isn't it time for you to rest?"
The woman blinked at him, as if just realized her tiredness, she yawned. "Right," a wistful smile. "Night-night, Papi. Don't forget to sing for Ai……."
The man gazed sadly at the sleeping form of his daughter. He sighed, already imagining the poor child's future just because of a father's incompetence to help heal his daughter's heart.
This idea isn't something original to me, I've read a couple of one-shots about ace/aro children or Aphrodite. At first, I wanted to write about a demigod that has an obsessive parent, but then I thought, "why don't I just add some ace and non-binary rep in it as well?"
there's so little envy demigods. and as an fellow enby myself, my heart just had to write some of my own non-binary OCs.
Then this fic happened. I've just written the first chapter, so expect the update to be sometime tomorrow or the day after that.
Even though I'm not entirely sure what my sexuality is, I can sometimes relate to not feeling any attraction (both sexually and romantically), so I hope I can do some justice for an aro-ace character :)
if I've written anything offensive to your identity, please don't hesitate to write a comment of warning/advice (even a hate comment is welcome if I've somehow missed too hard).