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gaygirldoodles · 2 months

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Nico and Solangelo headcanons/ficlet TW: mental health, mention of persecution

Nico is touch averse, not because he’s touch starved, but because touch overwhelms him. He gets sensory overload, which is common in people with adhd/ptsd/anxiety like Nico. Touch is one of his biggest triggers for it. Touch doesn’t always overwhelm him- it depends on the exact situation and how well he’s coping at the time. He often finds himself being hugged and touched without his consent, which makes him even more uncomfortable, especially as he’s used to personal space. He prefers to initiate any contact, or at least for people to ask before they try to ruffle his hair or hug him.

Nico is illiterate for a long time. After having his memories wiped before the Lotus, Nico was unable to remember being taught to read. And even then, he’d only learned to read Italian. In the hotel, him and Bianca didn’t need to read and write, and at the military school, they cared more for punishing poor work than they did helping people out. Even after that, he spent most of his time training or talking to ghosts. English isn’t Nico’s first language, and his dyslexia is severe. Because of this, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t read, and he’d get frustrated. He’d feel ashamed of himself for being a teenager and not being able to read.

Nico gets sensory overload more common than he’d care to admit, although he has no idea why. It often leads to panic attacks, and he finds himself struggling to focus, overwhelmed by the intensity of everything around him, causing him distress to the point he’s unable to process his surroundings. He usually shadow travels to his cabin and lays on the floor on his back with his eyes closed, breathing away his distress until he’s light headed. It can take him a while to recover enough to function again. Sometimes when he’s anxious, he struggles to speak, and the words won’t form, so he either gives up, or he forces the words out.

Nico struggles a lot with his adhd and focusing, especially when people are talking. He often misses what they say, or it doesn’t seem to process, or he gets distracted by random thoughts or random objects. He’ll play with his skull ring, bounce his leg, and if he’s able to, he’ll throw a stress ball between his hands. He finds it helps him to focus and not get distracted so much. Other times, he’ll focus so much he doesn’t realise hours have passed, or he won’t notice himself getting tired during training until his legs are shaking and his knees buckle.

His encounter with Cupid didn’t help him to accept his sexuality, nor did it give him confidence. In fact, it made him feel more ashamed of himself and abnormal. He’d been singled out purely because Cupid knew he was ashamed of his sexuality, he’d ridiculed him, picked his weakest moment and forcibly, violently outed him, but he made Nico say the words himself. Nico could barely look at Jason, because he wasn’t supposed to know. He couldn’t look at Jason without remembering being outed. Nico felt like a coward for not telling everybody, for running away, for being held back by traumatic memories and fear of rejection and hate crimes. Sometimes people forgot that Nico wasn’t a stranger to seeing people being shamed in the papers, being beaten and shot by the military in front of children, being paraded with a pink triangle on their chests, spat on, killed, starved to death, experimented on, castrated.

Coming out to Percy was painful. He regretted it instantly, and every time Percy would approach him, try to talk to him, he’d brace himself for an attack, just like he’d expected from Jason. It took a while before Nico realised Percy accepted it. Percy even apologised for not noticing sooner, for not being able to help, for being the cause of so much pain. They talked it through, and despite it being awkward for a while, Percy became somebody he could trust, and Annabeth became a close friend too.

Coming out to Will was the first time Nico didn’t feel obliged to say anything. It was the first time he wasn’t scared that he’d be hurt, and it was the first time he felt secure knowing that Will would accept him. It still took him a while to say the words, that he was gay, and he still panicked about how it would affect their friendship. Will came out as bisexual to Nico, and the two became closer as friends. Nico finally wasn’t alone. Finally, somebody understood how hard it could be to accept yourself when the environment you grew up in wasn’t tolerant.

Coming out to his father was worse than being outed by Cupid- or at least, it felt worse at first. Nico was terrified- he could be sent back to Tartarus in a matter of seconds. He could have the full force of all the undead horrors unleashed upon him. He could be mauled by Cerberus, disowned, abandoned, anything. Especially given how his father had looked at him when he’d helped Percy, like he was covered in sewerage, like he was disgusting. But he figured that his father would find out eventually, and he’d rather be in control of how. When Nico finally told his dad, shaking in terror and braced for an attack, he was surprised when his father adopted a calm, soothing tone, and told him that he’d known for a few years, and that he supported him. Nico broke down, crying in relief, but also feeling the full force of years of panic and self hate. They talked long into the night, and Hades introduced Nico to some demigods and mortals he’d known who weren’t straight, even Achilles himself. It turned out several gods, especially Apollo, weren’t straight. And Nico saw people just like him in Elysium. For once, he truly believed it when he was told that there was nothing wrong about how he felt.

And so Nico finally decided to trust Jason, taking him up on his word to talk about it. He didn’t open up to him about everything to start with. He started by just telling Jason that he was sure he was gay, that he liked boys, not girls. And Jason had told him that he supported him, that it changed nothing. And slowly, he began to talk about how he used to feel for Percy, and about his growing feelings for Will. He didn’t tell Jason that Will was bisexual- supportive friend or not, it’s never okay to out somebody. And Jason gave surprisingly good advice, and Nico slowly realised he was becoming more confident in his sexuality. He didn’t feel the same pit of shame and disgust as he used to.

When Nico and Will did start to date, it took a little work to get used to the change in dynamic. Will was naturally a very tactile and affectionate person, and whilst Nico was affectionate, he was still touch averse. They found themselves talking about boundaries a lot, far more than they found themselves doing stereotypical couple stuff. But talking about boundaries and what was and wasn’t okay meant that they avoided miscommunication, avoided any uncomfortable situations and avoided rushing into things. It made them a healthy couple, because any time there was something that the other wasn’t comfortable with, they’d discuss it properly.

Public dates were still an issue. They did go out in public together, and Nico wanted to do so- but he was always hypervigilant, always far too aware of anything and everything, every person, every voice, every movement, focus stretched few and far between every last detail, constantly flinching at the slightest contact or sudden noise, waiting for an attack. He found himself becoming increasingly paranoid and increasingly anxious, until everything, the noise, the lights, the air movement, the crowds, the temperature, everything overwhelmed him. He’d find himself not noticing when Will was talking to him, and then he’d find himself having to ask Will multiple times to repeat what he said, because no matter how much he tried to focus on what Will was saying, he’d find Will at the end of his sentence looking at him expectantly or worriedly.

Nico didn’t learn to read in school or with a teacher. In fact, he didn’t realise he was being taught to read at all. Will had been the one to notice, but he gathered that Nico seemed to be frustrated and angry at his illiteracy. So during an overnight stay in the infirmary, Will sat besides Nico and started to read a book out loud, following with his finger. He didn’t hide it when he skipped a word, lost focus, or when he misread a word, or had to spell out each syllable a few times before he could say the word confidently. Nico asked him about it quietly, and Will explained that his dyslexia was also on the more severe side compared to other demigods. Nico talked about how the letters would seem to rearrange themselves, how it looked like the page was moving, and Will explained how for him, he could see the words as they were, but his brain didn’t seem to automatically link them phonetically, how he had to make the effort to figure out each word letter by letter still. They continued to sit and read together in the Hades cabin, and it wasn’t until Will read a word wrong and Nico corrected him that Nico realised he’d been reading along with Will in his head, that he could understand the words now, all because of Will reading aloud and pointing as he did so. Nico admitted that he hadn’t known how to read, and Will admitted that it was why he started to read to Nico. They never stopped reading to each other in the evenings.

Nico’s depression wasn’t constant. It was far from mild, but he wasn’t always at crisis point. Some days, he’d feel okay. In fact, some days, he’d be unable to stop laughing, hands moving wildly as he talked, slipping into Italian without realising, bouncing around like a small excitable child. Sometimes it would hit suddenly, like a punch in the gut, a sudden drop in the pit of his stomach that made his smile drop, that made his shoulders tense up and hunch, that made him look to the floor, or stare into space dissociating. Sometimes it would creep up on him so slowly he wouldn’t notice how bad it was until he was woken up in the middle of the night to be told it was midday, that he’d been in his cabin for two weeks, and his hair would be one unbrushed knot. If Will was there, he’d sit and gently pull apart the knots with his fingers and a hairbrush, but it would take up to five hours, Nico on the verge of tears from the overstimulation on his scalp and the nauseating, enduring pain it caused as the knots were removed. Will would go over Nico’s face with a washcloth whilst convincing him to shower and eat, trying to find clean clothes for him to wear. And sometimes Nico would cry, because he just wanted to sleep, because he didn’t feel like this when he was asleep. He couldn’t find it in him to smile when they held hands or cuddled, but Will understood.

Nico had ptsd. And it manifested most in nightmares, so real and vivid he could never distinguish them from reality. It manifested in flashbacks, where suddenly he’d be trapped in a repeating memory, over and over again, like it was happening right then and there, and when he came around back to reality, he’d be so disorientated, nauseated, the aftermath of each memory as fresh as ever. His nightmares would be so bad when he woke from a few, he’d wish he could fade into the shadows, so he didn’t have to suffer anymore. He’d avoid sleep, and other times he couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried. He’d wake up so paranoid of the shadows he wouldn’t move so much as a finger, lying there for sometimes hours until it was light, until it no longer felt like if he moved he’d be dragged into Tartarus, petrified of the dark. He’d sometimes be aware of every agonising second, and sometimes he would have no idea how long he’d lay there motionless until he somehow found himself sitting on the shower floor, a spare change of clothes by the side, and he’d wash and change into them, and Will would be in his cabin stripping his bed of soiled sheets, gently telling him that no, Nico, it’s not Thursday, it’s Monday. Firework displays stopped after that, and Will moved into the Hades cabin. Nico would pass out, feel too sick to eat much more than toast, and after every incident where Nico lapsed on self care, or dissociated for a long time, it would take a while to get everything back to normal again, to get him able to eat a full portion or train without passing out.

Nico was happy. He smiled, he laughed, he told jokes, joined in the campfire songs, and cuddled with Will or Hazel. He wasn’t healed. His mental health problems hadn’t gone away, and he was far from healthy. He had a friends, family, a home, and he had a boyfriend who had seen him at his worst and still held him in his arms and told him he loved him. Nico was content with his life. He was accepting his limitations, his vulnerabilities, accepting help rather than isolating himself. Whilst he had been ostracised, he’d come to see that a fair portion of it was also on him- he’d pushed people away a lot too. And he’d made progress, learned when he needed help, learned to admit when he could do with a friend to talk to.

His relationship with Will wasn’t one sided. The comforting and the taking care of each other was mutual. Sometimes Nico would find Will sitting in the infirmary alone on the floor, equipment strewn across the floor, and Will would be covered in blood, still in his scrubs, pulling at his hair and scratching at his face, pulling on his teeth and hitting himself around the head, hysterically crying, far from the laid back combat medic everybody knew him as, far from the ray of sunshine and positivity he had to pretend to be all the time. And Will wouldn’t let anybody help him, he’d scream over Nico’s words, until eventually he’d be hysterically explaining how he lost a patient, how he felt like a murderer, smearing the blood over himself as if to prove he had blood on his hands. He’d hysterically cry about his own death as though he was going to die any minute now, and he’d beg Nico to hold him and never let go, and Nico didn’t care about the blood. He’d hold him, and he’d tell him about all the places he’d been in the underworld, from the Styx to Persephone’s gardens, to his room in his palace. Once Will was calm and coherent, Nico would help him to wash the blood off, bandage any injuries Will had picked up during the meltdown. Sometimes Nico would have to tell Will some of the things he’d said or done whilst in that state. And Nico would go to the underworld when Will was okay, and he’d find the recently lost demigod. He’d return to Will and tell him they were in Elysium, that they were thankful. He’d remind Will of all the demigods he’d saved, he’d point out all the scars they had that Will had stitched up, from Annabeth’s shoulder, Nico’s werewolf scars, to Paolo’s arms, and he’d often find Will staring at all the scars, because they were proof he’d saved them. He’d remind Will of all the parents who would get to see their children again because Will had saved them. He promised Will, swore on the Styx, that when Will died, He’d stay in the Underworld, and they’d stay in Hades’s palace together, that it would be okay, and Will would live a long, happy, healthy life, that death wasn’t the end. Nico would summon ghosts as proof for Will that he’d never lose himself to death.

Nico grew more confident as he healed mentally. He’d come a long way since he was forced out of the closet, and now he wore a small pride pin on his aviator jacket some days. He was in control of displaying it, of being open about his sexuality. He began to understand how it felt to be proud of who you are. He slowly found himself more and more capable of coping with the fear of being attacked, instead glaring at anybody who dared to stare, pushing down the fear, and he began to walk with confidence. He felt more than happy to hold Will’s hand in public or kiss his cheek, to hug him or let Will surprise him by jumping on his back for a piggy back. Nico didn’t mind kissing Will softly on the lips in public- nothing intense, but Nico wasn’t ashamed. He was still afraid, but he figured it wouldn’t make a difference if he was affectionate or not- a homophobe is a homophobe no matter what you do. And he was tired of hiding in the shadows.

Nico was healthy. It had been years since the war, years since he had his first kiss in the strawberry fields with Will. He looked at photographs of his younger teenage self, pale and broken behind the eyes. He put his hand next to the picture of himself, comparing the pale sickly teenage figure to his healthy olive skin. He looked at all the pictures, a family in both camps. He settled into Will’s arms- he never did move back out of the Hades cabin, and the rings on their fingers told Nico that it had been the right decision. They’d head to the training arena in the morning, and Will would have lollipops from the infirmary for the younger campers. Will would watch Percy and Nico teach the younger demigods how to use a sword, motivating campers who lacked confidence, reassuring them that they were doing well. He also spent a fair amount of his time staring at Nico and blushing, but hey, he was allowed to now. After training and a break, they’d head to the infirmary for the start of Will’s shift, and Nico would help out however he could, dealing with minor injuries, alerting Will when a patient was close to death, glaring at Thanatos when Will was still trying to save them. They’d lead the campfire songs and laugh together with their friends. People would ask how Hazel was Nico’s sister, and Nico would say that not all families were as simple as one mom and one dad. Will would smile and laugh with all of their friends, and Nico would always ask Will to dance. They’d stay out late past the camper’s bedtime to talk with the other older campers, or to look at the stars. The Huntress was visible most nights, and Nico could swear the stars glowed brighter when he mentioned Bianca. They’d head back to the cabin and talk about their feelings, hold each other close. They’d always tell each other how much they loved each other before bed, and the lights would be left on. Sometimes one of them would have a nightmare, or slip into a depressive episode, or overwork themselves. But they could cope. They were happy together. Some nights, Hazel would babysit little Bianca and Michael-Lee, their daughter and their son, so the two could look after each other, or enjoy the time to themselves without a child present. Nico would always tell little Bianca about Bianca the Huntress, and Will would tell Michael-Lee all about his brave brothers. Family had never meant so much.

Word count: 3346

I haven’t proofread this at all oh well it took to long to write

#reblogging for later

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