#Lou Ellen's voice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

Will wears earrings that glint in the sunlight.

Nico is very aware of them.

He’s never seen anything like them before. Bianca wore earrings, little citrine gems that dotted both earlobes, and Hazel wears little hoops in each ear. Piper has dozens of beaded earrings she made herself. Annabeth wears little owl charms. Percy has a diamond stud, Connor’s ears are pierced all over, and Lou Ellen has gauges she’s slowly stretching out. Most people in camp have a piercing or two, really, some of them done by the Apollo or Aphrodite campers, and really sunny days they glint together like the massive disco ball that spun over the slot machines of the Lotus.

But Will’s earrings are different.

There’s no…pokey part, is the best way Nico can describe it. Each piece is a delicate gold chain, maybe two inches long each, with a thin blue sapphire hanging off one end. He threads them through the tiny holes in his lobes, and they dangle, glittering every time he moves. The sapphires refract the light when he tucks back his hair, shining an array of tiny rainbows on his neck, on his jaw.

He is distracted by them, often.

“You’re staring.”

Nico blinks, twitching back to his body. The blue sapphires he’d been staring at are replaced with blue eyes, twinkling with amusement, and he flushes.

“I was — spaced out.”

“Mhm.” Will turns back to his arts & crafts project, dragging a brushful of lavender paint over stained wood. A jewelry box, by the looks of it. “If by spaced out, you mean staring at me.”

Nico returns resolutely to his own project. His is much less delicate than Will’s — the sheath he has strapped to his calf at all times broke, last week, and he’s felt naked without his dagger — and there’s a warp in the leather, where his attention slipped. He focuses on smoothing it.

“Not on purpose.”

“No?” Coming from anyone else, the teasing tone of voice would have him raising his shoulders, twisting his face. But from Will it’s — tolerable, somehow. Perhaps it’s the hand that rests gently on his wrist. “You space out at me a lot, then. Crazy coincidence.”

Nico stars at the freckly, tanned hand, waiting for it to move. It doesn’t. Will keeps it there, callused fingers brushing gentle circles on the base of his thumb, dipping and swooping along with his quiet humming.

Nico swallows. “You’re — distracting.”

Will’s smile spreads slowly across his face; stilted, almost, like he’d tried to bite it back.

“How?”

“You’re —” Nico gestures, vaguely, at all of him. Will’s smile grows, and his cheeks slowly grow pink, blonde ringlets falling out of place and curtaining his face.

“I’m?” he presses.

His voice is soft, near silent; searching, prodding. Hoping. Nico’s breath hitches, and his palms sweat, and Will’s gentle tracing pauses, briefly. He bites his lip, worrying the chapped skin, breathing quick; in, out, in, out. In a slow, calculated movement, watching Nico carefully, carefully, out of the corner of his eyes, he slides their palms together, fingers resting loosely in the spaces of Nico’s open, twitching hand.

“…Is this okay?”

Nico feels lightheaded. He’s sure his palms are clammy, although he can’t tell against Will’s. He gnaws at his lip again. Nico’s exhales are quick, short.

He curls his fingers until they rest on Will’s cracked knuckles.

“You’re striking,” he says quietly.

Ducking his head, Will turns back to his painting. He dips his brush in a deep, blooming green, now, tracing it along the edge of the lavender.

He’s smiling.

#me back on my will wears threader earrings agenda #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #soft solangelo #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #my writing #fic #longpost

505 notes · View notes

an-exasperated-hades-kid · 2 months

Text

So I've been seeing a lot of will solace hate, and I'm here to defend my son.

First of all, he's not a toxic person at all he's a human who can mess up at times and be unintentionally rude, like in that one scene boo where he says

‘Oh, please.’ Will sounded unusually angry. ‘Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends – or at least people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once –

^ that is rude but he didn't have bad intentions because according to him nico wasn't scary and the people that he hung out with - Lou Ellen and Cecil- didn't think that nico was scary either as they were both friendly towards him when they met him at the Roman camping area outside chb so while his delivery wasn't good he meant no harm and he also helped nico realize that not everyone hates him and then there are a few jokes that he made that people consider toxic or offensive but nico was never offended or sad about these jokes he only rolled his eyes and acted exasperated so he knew will meant no harm .

Will is canonically described as a laid-back and calm person, but he is also stubborn when it comes to certain things like medical related things which is understandable since he can feel everything physically wrong with a person by just touching them and is persistent that they don't die and Take care of themselves which is understandable since he saw majority of his siblings die and doesn't want more ppl to die .

Will is actually quite a complex character he's calm and laid back but he's stubborn and strict when he needs to be he's supportive and loving to nico but since he's a kid he struggles with being understanding sometimes hence why he asks persephone for advice on how to be there for nico properly showing that he's mature enough to ask for help . He's also someone represses his emotions because he thinks that as head counselor, he has to be a perfect example, and he told this apollo in the 1st toa book. He's also pretty insecure about his abilities, as shown in boo

Evidence:

You did,’ confirmed Nico. ‘But it was the way you did it. You made it clear that you wanted me around. You said you wanted me to come to the infirmary and help, because … because you could use a “friendly face”.’

‘It was true. And you did help.’

‘You brought me closer instead of rejecting me,’ Nico said, his voice cracking. ‘I’d never been called a friendly face. Ever. You made me rethink everything – my place in camp, my crush on Percy, my future. It took you scolding me like you were the camp director to make me realize that I was … wanted.

___

But with Nico … It’s hard, Persephone. I want the best for him, and he seems to disappear into his darkness, like he’s hiding in a place where he doesn’t want my light.’

‘Then why not offer him your darkness

_____

Nico sighed in exasperation. He hated working with other people. They were always cramping his style, making him uncomfortable. And Will Solace … Nico revised his impression of the son of Apollo. He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently, he could also be stubborn and aggravating

_______________________________________

In conclusion will isn't toxic and he isn't perfect and if I'm wrong about something please point it out cause I haven't read the books in a while and if I missed something please point it out and I'm sorry for the typos I wrote this without wearing my glasses as 3 am after studying for a test

#will solace #defending will solace #hes not a bad person but hes also not perfect hes a mixture of both #we need to stop the hate for will like hes done like one or two bad thing in the series and even those times didnt mean to be rude #solangelo #percy jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #the sun and the star #nico di angelo #leave my boy will alone like if he comes off as a dick its a writing mistake on ricks part except that boo i will not exuse him there #anti will solace #im countering yalls argument #its stupid and immature to hate someone because they did like 1 thing #like bro is 16 and he was 14/15 during that scene in boo ofc he's going to make mistake #he's a fucking child and he's learning

240 notes · View notes

killrockstar · 1 year

Text

RIOT GRRRL: what i consider essential films.

films that were seen as inspiration for the riot grrrl movement, were written, or inspired by, those in the scene, as well as a few i and others personally recommend and consider; and lastly, documentaries on riot grrrl & allied bands.

i tried to keep this as accessible as possible. these are films that can be found on youtube, vimeo, archive.org, ubuweb, or (for those who can access them) are free on tubi and pluto or can be rented on kanopy. links and where's-to-watch under cut.

letterboxd.

Born in Flames (1983): kanopy (library card needed), facebook (i know). (Set ten years after the most peaceful revolution in United States history, it presents a dystopia in which the issues of many groups - minorities, liberals, gay rights organizations, feminists - are dealt with by the government.) dir. Lizzie Borden. x.

Baise-moi (2000): jex, effedupmovies. (Two young women, marginalised by society, go on a destructive tour of sex and violence.) dir. Virginie Despentes, Coralie Trinh Thi.

Rain Without Thunder (1993): free on tubi. (In the year 2042 women are going to prison for terminating their pregnancies. An investigating reporter is determined to reveal the truth behind the convictions.) dir. Gary O. Bennett.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains (1982): free on pluto, archive.org. (Corrine Burns retreats far into plans for her band, The Fabulous Stains, after her mother’s death.) dir. Lou Adler. x.

I Was A Teenage Serial Killer (1993): archive.org, youtube, tubi. (Mary was a good girl until she decides to kill all the "sexist pigs". She of course encounters many of which, and enjoys killing them.) dir. Sarah Jacobson.

Mary Jane's Not a Virgin Anymore (1996): youtube, tubi. (A high schooler from suburbia gets in touch with her sexuality while working at a dingy movie theater in the city.) dir. Sarah Jacobson.

All Over Me (1997): youtube. (Claude and Ellen are best friends living in New York. They’re involved in the subculture of 90s youth, complete with drugs, live music, and homophobia. All is changed one night when a violent and meaningless death rocks their lives.) dir. Alex Sichel.

The Watermelon Woman (1996): kanopy, archive.org. (Cheryl, a young black lesbian, works a day job in a video store while trying to make a film about a black actress from the 1930s known for playing the stereotypical “mammy” roles relegated to black actresses during that period.) dir. Cheryl Dunye.

But I’m a Cheerleader (1999): archive.org, second archive.org. (A naive teenager is sent to rehab camp when her parents and friends suspect her of being a lesbian.) dir. Jamie Babbit.

The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love (1995): youtube, archive.org. (An adventurous love story between two young women of different social and economic backgrounds who find themselves going through all the typical struggles of a new romance.) dir. Maria Maggenti.

Baby Doll (1982): dailymotion, ubuweb. (Short film about the girls working the now defunct Baby Doll Lounge in downtown Manhattan.) dir. Tessa Hughes-Freeland.

Girl Power (1992): ubuweb, youtube. (Benning relates their personal rebellion against school, family, and stereotypes as a story of personal freedom, telling how they used to model like Matt Dillon and skip school to have adventures alone.) dir. Sadie Benning.

The Judy Spots (1995): archive.org, vimeo. (These five short videos introduce Judy, a paper maché puppet voiced by Kathleen Hanna, who ruminates on her position in society.) dir. Sadie Benning.

If Every Girl Had a Diary (1990): ubuweb, archive.org. (Setting their pixelvision camera on themself and room, Benning searches for a sense of identity and respect as a lesbian.) dir. Sadie Benning.

docs:

Don't Need You: The Herstory of Riot Grrrl (2005): youtube. (A documentary that tells the story of the origins of Riot Grrrl in the independent music scene of the 1990s, and how this feminist movement evolved into a revolutionary underground network.) dir. Kerri Koch.

Not Bad For A Girl: (1995): drive. (A documentary on women musicians of the 1990s from the indie rock music genre, grunge and punk.) dir. Lisa Rose Apramian.

She's Real (Worse Than Queer) (1997): youtube, vimeo 1, 2. (A document of the Riot Grrrl and Queercore scene in the 1990s.) dir. Lucy Thane.

It Changed My Life: Bikini Kill in the UK (1993): vimeo. (A video made during the 1993 UK tour by bands Bikini Kill and Huggy Bear.) dir. Lucy Thane.

L7: Pretend We're Dead (2017): youtube, tubi. (Documentary on the grunge band L7.) dir. Sarah Price.

No Alternative Girls (1994): youtube, vimeo. (A short film of interviews from women in rock.) dir. Tamra Davis.

The Punk Singer (2013): youtube, free on pluto, dailymotion. (A look at the life of activist, musician, and cultural icon Kathleen Hanna, who formed the punk band Bikini Kill and pioneered the riot grrrl movement of the 1990s.) dir. Sini Anderson.

Who Took the Bomp? Le Tigre on Tour (2010): free on pluto, free on tubi. (Follows iconic feminist band Le Tigre on their 2005 international tour.) dir. Kerthy Fix.

Dirty Girls (2000): youtube, vimeo. (Shot in 1996 and edited in 2000, a short documentary about a group of 13-year-old riot grrrls in Los Angeles who were socially ostracized at their school by their peers and upperclassmen.) dir. Michael Lucid.

Poly Styrene: I Am a Cliché (2021): kanopy. (The death of punk icon and X-Ray Spex front-woman Poly Styrene sends her daughter on a journey through her mother's archives.) dir. Celeste Bell, Paul Sng.

#you would've thought my life depended on this the way i did research lmaooo.#riotgrrrl #riot grrrl

1K notes · View notes

kekaki-cupcakes · 20 days

Note

hello!! Hope you’re doing well!!

could you please do a Leo x mortal reader cafe au like the Connor stoll one? And could the reader be a Greek mythology nerd also please have a little brother who she’ll randomly quiz about the Olympian gods?

have a nice day 😚😚

heyyy i didn't get your whole request in but i got the vibe dw and also kind of made a moodpboard for it cause I loved the whole aesthetic and no one requests mood boards <3 LISTEN TO EXPRESSO BY SABRINA!

Leo Valdez x Reader--- cafe au

»»————-　★　————-««

“Hello,” you said, looking up from your screen for a millisecond, “what can I get you today?”

When whoever it was ordering didn’t respond, you raised an eyebrow, hand hovering over the digital menu. The boy frowned at the screen above your head where it listed all the different drinks. He had the nicest brown curls, you noticed, and looked back down before he caught you staring.

He tapped his fingers quickly on the counter. Sabrina Carpenter's new song was playing over the cafe speakers. It sounded like summer.

“How many espresso shots are you legally allowed to put in one drink?” The boy asked with a crackly voice. He had dark smudges under his eyes. And on his hands. Huh. You really needed a camera to look into at times like this, for comedic effect. Like the office.

“About six,” you said, dropping your customer service voice with a shrug, and opened up a new order on the tablet, your bracelets jingling. “What can I get you today?”

You loved your bracelets. Some were from that second hand store down the street full of goths and grandmas where you’d bought yet another version of the Odyssey yesterday, and the rest were from your little brother.

You never admitted it to anyone, but he’d made them based on all your favorite Greek gods. The ones you were wearing today had pomegranate seed charms and antler horn patterns.

His eyes widened considerably. They were brown. And sparkly. “What happened to your voice?”

You squinted at him. Someone else came into the cafe with three little dogs stuffed into their giant handbag.

“That was my customer service voice.” Your brain was finally receiving enrichment in messing with this cute greasy boy. You put it on again, paired with a fake smile. “What can I get for you today?”

He chuckled, and hitched a giant canvas tote bag over his shoulder. There was a giant inked cat with butterfly wings on it, and a long metal pipe sticking out the back. You had a feeling this boy would steal your name if he got ahold of it, or trap you in a ring of flowers deep in a forest.

“Uh,” he trailed off, and then winked, scrunching up his entire face. “Surprise me.”

You blinked at him. How entirely helpful. You watched him pull an entire fucking old fashioned pocketwatch out of his pocket to check the time.

Medium was the most commonly ordered size of drink, so you selected that, and then a caramel latte with whipped cream. You had that knack that every person in your generation seemed to have been born with.

Selecting random objects and flavors to match someone’s vibe precisely. You just happened to be a barista.

For instance, this talkative sleep deprived boy was rocky road slices with peanuts in them, and torn open sugar packets, and caramel. Your coworker, Lou Ellen, who was wiping down tables behind the handbag dog man, was those butterfly shaped ice-cubes and home brewed black coffee from a saucepan and dragon fruit juices. And that thick book on Greek mythology she’d bought you for your birthday last year [she’d nicked it from the library and peeled the sticker off].

“Four dollars and sixty cents,” you said patronizingly, in your customer service voice. He grinned like you had just invented the funniest inside joke ever, and handed over five dollars in fifty cents coins.

“Keep the change.”

You printed out the receipt and reached for a medium sized cup and the ballpoint pen from a uni campus open day, after pocketing the generous tip of forty cents and a paperclip.

What a gentleman. “Name?”

“Leo Valdez, super sized Mcshizzle, bad boy supreme,” Leo Valdez super sized Mcshizzle bad boy supreme said happily, as one of the handbag dogs escaped the bag and started chewing on his laces.

You desperately needed that camera to look into now. You should be the star of a sitcom at this point, with you as the tired main character dealing with silly customers while desperately longing to go home and read your books, Lou Ellen as the hilarious trashy best friend, Will [your coworker who was currently taking out the trash] as the angry bisexual lumped with the night shift crew, and your little brother, who would pop in at random times in each episode to deliver the punchline.

Instead of letting the credits roll, unfortunately, you scribbled out an unintelligible scrawl to represent the complete nonsense you were supposed to instead. Your smile was strained this time. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Leo [you assumed that was his name] beamed. “Thanks!”

It was only as you frothed the milk and tried not to burn your fingertips on the spout did you realize that the song was still going. Lou must’ve looped it, as she did with every song ever until she got sick of it and hated it.

You nodded your head and tipped the bubbling milk into the cup, reaching for the tube of caramel sauce. “Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya, I know I Mountain Dew it for ya.”

“That morning coffee, brewed it for ya.” You rolled your eyes to no one and tipped the extra caramel sauce into it. It was ten o'clock at night, and your shift had just started. Morning coffees meant college students rushing in at two a.m. so they could finish their projects.

You shook up the whipped cream. “One touch and I brand-newed it for ya.”

One of the most satisfying parts of your job, apart from spinning around and introducing yourself as the manager [you are not the manager] when someone demands to see the manager [who comes in once a month, looks around, and leaves again], is the whipped cream. The sound of it and the little pattern it makes just itches a scratch.

You smile as you finish the swirl, which sinks into the cup of espresso shots and caramel milk. You spin around, “now he’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night, oh…”

“Is it that sweet? I guess so,” you hum under your breath, and ducking the spray bottle Lou Ellen launches over your head, you stick a straw in the cup and walk to the bench, where Will’s serving the man with three purse dogs a jelly donut.

Leo’s digging through his bag while you wait, not bothering to rush him and leave the 24/7 rip off starbucks diner empty.

You pick up the pen and take the lid off with your teeth, doodling a little cat on the blank bit of the cup. The tail comes out all wrong, and one of the whiskers slides halfway around on the plastic with a scratchy sound.

You add rushed fairy wings to its soft looking back, and hand the cup over as Sabrina Carpenter sings about being a singer. Her voice is so pretty. Like caramel. “There you go.”

Leo grinned at you, and while you watched in absolute horror, proceeded to pour an entire monster energy drink he’d pulled from his tote bag into the perfectly made coffee.

“Excuse me?” you whisper shrieked.

He blinked at you owlishly, and you tried not to notice how warm his eyes looked in the vintage yellow lights of the shop that made everything seem seventies. “What?”

“That’s enough caffeine and chemicals to give a water buffalo a heart attack,” you said, pointing at his awful concoction. It started to fizz. You wondered if the building had chemical reaction insurance.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Leo shrugged, and picked up his cup happily. He looked down at it, and a grin split across his face. “I got a drawing!”

»»————-　★　————-««

It was only a few days later when the bell rattled quietly by the door and you looked up to see Leo and smiled despite yourself, fingers tapping on the cup in your hand, wear the ring you’d made from that paperclip sat, did you realize what role he would play in your heart shaped ice-cubes Sabrina Carpenter soundtracked paperback books late night set ballpoint pen sitcom.

The love interest.

»»————-　★　————-««

#leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #leovaldez #leo valdez #leovaldezxreader #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez x you #the heroes of olympus #leo valdez x y/n

98 notes · View notes

hadeslegacyhephgirl · 2 months

Text

It was 6 in the morning when Nico received the phone call from Lou Ellen.

"Whaaaat"

"It's Will, Nico. He's in a coma"

The words crashed into him like a tsunami. Fear and worry made a home in his chest

"Where are you?" "Hospital" "… what?" "Ambulance go there before I could call anyone. And our chariot crashed bad, it's basically disintegrated"

"I'm going to wake Jason and Kayla and meet you there" "Can you get Annabeth and Cecil, too?" "Why?" "Annabeth 'cause I'm gonna need brains here. Cecil because- just- because" "Fine. Where?" "Carra Hospital, Room 304, I'll send you a picture" "I'll be there in 10" He hung up

Waking everyone up was… mixed.

All Jason and Kayla had to hear was 'Will' and they got up immediately.

Cecil only came when he heard Lou was there.

Annabeth insisted they take along Piper and Percy.

So it was a party of seven that turned up in room 304.

Cecil wrapped Lou in a hug from behind as Lou talked to Annabeth, who was holding Percy's hand. Kayla and Piper went to see if they could charmspeak a nurse to bring another IV for the nectar Kayla had brought, and Jason went along just in case there were monsters.

Leaving Nico standing by Wills bed, staring at his wounds.

He counted each and every nick and scratch on Will's face and arms (37) and took in the propped up, bandaged leg.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear to be so far away from Will. He climbed into the bed and tucked himself between Will's side and arm, nesting his head on Wills chest, closed his eyes and let the tears come

~*~ (Will)

It was dark

He felt around

There was a fuzzy silence

He couldn't remember anything

Except that he was a boy

Chink

He looked up. Something, a piece of light hung in the air. He touched it.

"Boy" "7 boys, two girls" "Hey, boy-o"

Oh.

These were memories.

So he had to piece himself back together.

He could do that.

He will do that.

Chink

Another shard of light, right next to the first.

"Will" "Hi, Will" "Will?" "William!"

His name was Will

There was solace in knowing his own name

Chink

This time, only one voice rang out

"Solace" The voice sounded annoyed, slightly raspy with a slight Italian accent.

This time it was accompanied by a picture.

Two dark brown eyes, so big and beautiful, yet so dark and knowing they looked like they were staring into your soul.

The image hung in the air, away from the other chinks of light. Like the beginning of a picture. One he would figure out.

~*~ (Nico)

"Should we wake him up?" "Nah, leave him. You know he can't live without his Will" "What if he never wakes up, though?" "He will. He has to. Besides, Nico wouldn't let him die" "But-" "No buts. We'll contact Hades, Hypnos, Apollo, anyone that can help. We're not losing him"

Nico drifted in and out of sleep, not wanting to confront the waking world, but scared of the nightmares that threatened to take him.

Finally he opened his eyes to find Jason sitting in the visitor chair.

"Hey, Neeks." "What time is it?" "A little past-" He checked his watch

"- one in the afternoon. Listen, we're gonna get Will outta here." "how?" "Piper'll be here in a few minutes with the van, Kayla and Annabeth. She's gonna charmspeak him out."

Nico looked down at Will and grabbed his hand. "We're getting you out of here, Will. So don’t you dare go dying on me." ~*~

My name is Will Solace I am 17 years old I am one of Apollo's children My home is Camp Half-Blood I'm a doctor, medic, head councilor

I have siblings, family, friends. And I will get out of here.

~*~

"Careful!" "We are being careful!" "… sorry"

They loaded Will into the back of the van

Piper had, quite literally, worked like a charm. Within ten minutes they had Will on a transportable gurney and out the hospital.

It was a silent drive back to camp

~*~ He'd done it.

The door was nearly complete. A door of light, of memory. The chinks of light had formed the rectangular shape as he'd gathered more and more information.

All that was missing was a doornob.

The picture was done too.

A picture of a boy with raven black hair framing milky white skin and big brown, almost black eyes. Dressed in a leather jacket with ripped black jeans and a black shirt that read Camp Half-Blood

But it felt wrong.

Like there was something missing.

The boy's name.

He began looking though the memories of the door, each piece a word with memories attached to it.

Then he remembered.

There was one that only had one memory attached

Maybe it was longer?

Hesitantly he touched it.

"Solace"

Silence. He waited "Fine." The Italians voice again.

"There we go. See, it wasn't so hard, was it?" His own voice now. "But just three days, you hear me?" "Sure, unless I need to keep you longer" "Solace, I swear-" "C'mon, Neeks." "Do not call me that" "Alright Death Breath-" "Or that" "Zombie Lord?" "Absolutely not. It's Nico, full stop" "Alright, Sunshine" "… that's okay too, I guess"

Ding

The picture of the boy - Nico - suddenly seemed vibrant, alive.

And the door had a doornob.

Hesitantly he reached for it.

Back home.

Back to Nico

If there was any chance the son of Hades could love him back.

~*~

It had been a week since Will had gone under the coma.

Five days since he'd been moved to the infirmary

Jason had given up on trying to get Nico to leave Wills bedside, except to shower every so often.

So it was just Will and Nico and silence.

Silence that was broken with a raspy voice coming from the bed

"Nico?"

Nico looked up into Wills brilliant blue eyes that were open and he was awake.

A sob wrenched from his throat and he flung himself into Wills arms.

"Hey, Sunshine. How long has it been?"

Nico sniffed and buried his head into Wills shoulder.

"A week" "oh." Nico sniffed again and looked up into very much open celeste blue eyes "But your back now, right?" "Yeah, Sunshine. I'm right here. And I always will be."

~*~

#solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #angst #fanfiction #nico di angelo #pjo #will solace

91 notes · View notes

freddie-77-ao3 · 2 months

Text

Cecil, coming up with a frankly terrible idea: I think we should do this. Lou Ellen: sounds fun Will: i mean, i could heal us Connor, who somehow got stuck being the voice of reason: No, Malcolm, tell him we can't. Malcolm, who was already running the logistics the moment Cecil opened his mouth: I think your plan is dumb as bricks, but man, do I wanna see where it goes. Drew, who just wants to see the world burn: If it fails, we'll just blame Cecil. Cecil: Connor's senior counselor, though. Will: Connor, then.

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #riordanverse #pjo series #incorrect quotes #pjo fandom #malcolm pace #connor stoll #drew tanaka #will solace #lou ellen blackstone #cecil markowitz

62 notes · View notes

zxmbievxmit · 3 months

Text

Okay so because I’m bored and because I just want to talk about my favorite character, here are some Will Solace Headcanons. Some I will elaborate on some I just made up.

- Has the curliest hair (other than Leo)

- Has freckles EVERYWHERE

- Has scars mostly from Tartarus and training

- Sucks at archery (most training scars are from archery)

- Almost always wears flip flops, but on occasion wears sneakers

- The sneakers he does wear are absolutely destroyed / covered in doodles

- Loves dogs especially Golden Retrievers and Australian Shepherds

- Also loves fish and guinea pigs

- Never ever takes off the chain w/ Nico’s ring

- Pretty good at guitar, amazing singing voice

- Has bad ADHD, copes with it by constantly being busy

- Overworks himself a lot

- Gets reenergized from the sun (so do all Apollo kids), sometimes he just sits out in the sun

- Sometimes helps w/ camp plays / musicals

- Listens to Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Olivia Rodrigo, Mitski?, Laufey, and musicals (not limited to these)

- Terrified of pigeons, but loves other birds. Especially crows, thinks they’re pretty (like Nico)

- Special interests are Star Wars and true crime

- Wear a lot of jewelry, especially earrings. He has a lot of piercings

- Can draw pretty well, especially autonomy but doesn’t draw a lot

- Cries every time he watches Frozen (sibling angst)

- Loves Tangled, loves when people compare him to Rapunzel

- Not picky, will eat anything

- Does kill bugs but Nico refuses to. Saves them every time

- Loves horror movies (especially slasher ones), analyzes the gore and how realistic it is

- Good friends with Leo, Percy, Clarisse, Cecil, Lou Ellen, and Nyssa

- Watches nature documentaries (gets sad when the animals die)

- Was really close to Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew, Michael taught him how to be a medic

- Looks like a surfer boy but sucks at surfing

- Had really blue eyes (blue eyed stare)

- Hair looks golden when the sun hits it

- Has bad nightmares

- All Apollo kids wake up with the sun

- Annotates every book. Has annotated a lot of Nico’s books (Nico loves it)

- Has dyslexia (like most demigods) but loves reading

- Has pretty bad anxiety, but his hands are pretty steady

- Stays calm under pressure most of the time

- Songs that make me think of him: Mirrorball, Summer Child, All American Bitch, Working for the Knife, and From the Start

- Hates hot pink (idk)

- Nico sometimes does his makeup and paints his nails

I have more for other characters (and some more of Will) but that’s all I’m doing rn

#will solace #percy jackson #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson heroes of olympus #will solace headcanon

74 notes · View notes

italianhomosexuality · 3 months

Text

rant to me (i like the sound, i like your voice) on ao3

“Nico! You're finally here!”

The ever too-chipper voice took Nico out of his thoughts. He had plans that consisted of brooding and staring, but it seems like Will Solace didn't think that behavior is appropriate for a party.

If whatever it is that's happening can even be considered a party; the Apollo cabin and some other campers decided to get together near the lake, with some soda cans, Doritos bags, and sour gummy worms. There's some music playing and chatter going around, but Nico's foam earplugs do a great job at keeping the volume low enough so that it's not overwhelming. He plays with his fingers, practicing the alphabet in sign language. Tatiana, a daughter of Nemesis, was hard of hearing. Nico became close to her since both of them would usually sit in the shadows, a few feet away from the crowds. It was easy to be around her, and he was making an effort to learn sign.

Will's voice was a little muffled by the earplugs, but taking them out would be much worse. Nico just gestured towards him, pointing in a general direction that is a little further from the noise and confusion. Will understood, because of course he did. They walked a few steps in silence, and Nico didn't bother correcting Will that he'd been here for a few good minutes now, he just didn't want to interrupt Will's conversation with Connor.

He wasn't wearing his usual orange shirt; the blue fabric suits his eyes and looks nice under the moonlight. Nico knew he's clad in cargo shorts and flip-flops without even having to look down—that's what he wears all the time, even when Nico thinks about him before going to sleep, when he thinks of the two of them under the soft orange of a sunset, sharing McDonald's fries, maybe making jokes, hands just one or two millimeters away from each other, itching to touch, aching to be intertwined…

He couldn't afford to think about that right now.

As they reached a tree, Nico offered Will a sweet smile. They were far from the crowd, watching from a distance so that they could hold a conversation even with the earplugs. It's the little things Will does; the accommodations, the giving, the gifting, the understanding, the treating him as an equal that makes Nico have some thoughts that he'd rather keep to himself.

(“Nico, I've noticed you wince and flinch when it gets too loud. What do you think of trying some earplugs? They might help. I wear them sometimes.”)

(“Nico, can you come body double me? I need to clean the infirmary and I can't do it if I'm just there by myself.”)

(“Nico, I have bad days too.”)

(“Nico, would you mind hanging around for just a little longer? I had to treat a head injury today. I don't think I'll ever get over it.”)

“Have you been having fun?” Nico asked, feeling the deep rumble of his voice in his chest. He only now noticed how Will's eyelids and cheekbones seemed to sparkle and glimmer under the moonlight. Lou Ellen must have been experimenting with makeup again.

“Yes! It's been good.” Will raised his voice just enough so Nico could still hear him through the earplugs. It's the little things, Nico's brain supplied.

“How was your day?”

After a lot of practicing with other campers, Nico realized that he enjoyed asking questions. They were an easy way of navigating a conversation and he had a premade list of questions to use in any social setting. For the most part, he asked and listened, keeping only a few bits of information, glancing at the other person's forehead and nose bridge occasionally to mimic eye contact. With Will, however, he didn't have to overthink. He'd ask, but because he actually wanted to know. He'd look at the ground while paying the most attention he's ever paid. He'd fidget and fiddle with his necklace, humming and nodding, while storing every single bit of Will's stories, stitching guides, camp rules, and so much more.

“It wasn't that great, if I'm being honest,” Will said, picking at his fingernails, “but I've been managing. It was just… hard. At the infirmary. Being by myself.”

“You could have asked me for help,” Nico said, swinging back and forth on his ankles. “I didn't do much today. I could have at least been around. Make you feel less lonely.”

Ever since Will started opening up about his mental health and struggles with himself, Nico found it easier to do so, too. Some campers thought of the Head Counselor of the Apollo cabin as this perfect, do-no-wrong, ever-happy, feel-good Care Bear. Will played the part really well, having fooled Nico at the start, but then he understood. He saw the insecurities, the blood—Will's own—pooling and drying around his fingernails, the teeth marks on the bottom lip, the nervous ticks that would come out after an especially long day. Sometimes, though their wounds were far from equal, Nico felt as if he was looking into a mirror. Maybe not a mirror, but a murky reflection on a lake. A resemblance, something similar enough to his own, but with different shapes and jagged edges.

So, as Will listed his fears and how he wished so, so badly he could be someone else, Nico felt comfortable enough, for the first time in his life, to revisit his self-hatred and coax it out for a walk. Will took it and acknowledged it, but didn't yell at it or scare it away. It was almost as if he said, “Hey, I have that, too,” and Nico finally understood the many meanings of the word gratitude.

Nico never thought he'd be able to help someone feel less lonely. He'd also never thought he'd withstand a party—a get-together—just to catch a glimpse of blonde, defined curls and butterfly-blue eyes.

It's the little things.

“I know what you will say, but…” Will caught himself, stopping mid-sentence. “I didn't want to be a bother. A hypocrite, I know, but this happens sometimes. I'll try to not let it happen again.”

“Good.” Nico smiled, feeling the warmth from inside.

It was warm enough that he'd ditched the aviator jacket, but he still kept the jeans. The breeze coming from the lake was a nice touch to the night. He looked down, finding a spot dry enough for both of them to sit, and reached out to tug at Will's hand.

He couldn't pinpoint when he had gotten so… used to physical contact. When he had started to initiate it, even. But then again, he couldn't pinpoint when Will had become Will.

Will took the hint and sat down right beside Nico, scooting closer to him so that the skin on his calf touched the black denim. It was a common position to them. Comfortable. Nico's back didn't hurt as much and he didn't feel pressured to maintain eye contact. Will got to relax his posture and relax his legs from standing all day.

“Do you want to talk about what happened today?” Nico initiated, fingers tapping on his knee. “About what made you not have such a great day.”

No one had ever ranted to Nico. They were always afraid he wouldn't care or that they would be putting too much on him, as if he were a thin, fragile table, built to break at any point. Will didn't.

So Will said, “Yeah, I think that will help,” and started.

Nico listened.

He made sure to store every tidbit of information in his Will Solace-shaped mental drawer. He would remember, in the future, that the infirmary had a shortage of darker-colored band-aids, and he would point it out next time he and Will went supply shopping. He would remember, in the future, that Kayla had offered Will coffee with hazelnut creamer and he drank it all so as to not dismiss her, but he actually hated that flavor.

(Nico already knew that. If he wasn't having his coffee black, french vanilla was the go-to.)

He would remember how Will's fingers flexed as he told Nico how he had to patch up this new camper, almost as if he was going through the motions again. He would remember how Cecil's comment about his off-tune singing while washing his hands post-procedure made Will's heart sting, though he was used to the mockery, but it just hadn't been a good day. He would remember that Will hadn't slept well that day because the sheets had been recently washed and someone had used fabric softener on them, causing the texture to be plastic-like and that it made Will's skin itch. He would remember, and he would fight against every part of his brain that forced him to forget.

Once Will deemed his rant finished, Nico finally looked at him. He looked… pretty. The golden hue that came from the sun was perfect for Will's features, but the silver complimented him. It was the missing part. It hit his skin and bounced right back, catching on the glitter on his eyelids, cheekbones, and cupid's bow, making the chapstick on his lips shine a little more, exposing the chipped pink nail polish on his fingernails.

Nico didn't think boys were supposed to be considered pretty, but most common rules made no sense to him, anyway. Will was pretty. Accepting that fact had been complicated enough. He would not put up a fight against his thoughts.

“I like hearing you talk,” Nico confessed, straightforward as always. “The sound of your voice is very calming, like a stream of water. Constant.”

“That was a very sweet compliment, Nico,” Will replied, smiling wide. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

In the background, the party was still happening. Nico could hear laughter, cans being opened, fire crackling, stomping, soft tones and chords. But Will was next to him, seemingly not wanting to go back to the crowd, so he just settled into his makeshift seat a little more.

Maybe, in the future, Nico could ask Will if he liked him back. For now, he'd rather keep making a list of the little things. Little by little, he could have Will. He just needed some time to build up courage. Maybe, in the future, Will would slip out his ideal love confession or first date.

Nico would remember.

#solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #will solace x nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo #gianna writes #pjo #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo & will solace

54 notes · View notes

maesiezori · 2 months

Text

(bye this is my first time posting a story on tumblr.. this is also on my ao3, maes)

“Will?” Nico found himself turning around at the voice of Kayla, Will’s sister.

Nico’s heart seemed to stop, his eyes widened and his body unmoving. Nico stared as his boyfriend pulled a hand back from his stomach only for Will’s hand to be covered in crimson.

Shit.

“Will? Will—“ Nico surged forward, catching his boyfriend before he could fall.

Will looked at him, Nico was breathing hard and had shaky hands. Will’s expression for the first time was unreadable—it was void of anything.

Until Will gave him a small smile and placed his other hand on Nico’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Nico.” Will murmured, his voice strained.

Nico didn’t want to break, especially in front of Kayla, Austin, and Lou Ellen. It was the stupidest of reasons this was happening, really.

The gods.

“No, no I can—“ Nico muttered.

“Nico,”

“Will, please! Please, I—“

“Nico. Listen to me.”

Nico looked up at him, his face wet with unwanted tears. This couldn’t happen again, not after so many times.

“I love you, di Angelo.” Will seemed to glow—even at this moment.

“I love you in every universe, Solace.”

“I know.”

“I’ll find you, I’ll save you. I promise.” Nico cried as Will put a hand on his cheek. “They won’t take you again. Never.”

Will just had that look again. His eyes crinkled and he smiled. “Don’t say that, Nico.”

“I love you, Will.”

“And I love you, Nico.”

Nico watched as Will’s body went stiff—then still and then gone. His heart died a little bit more every time.

The one hundred and sixteenth time.

He turned his watch back.

chapter 2

#percy jackson #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #will solace #nico and will #solangelo #tw death #tw blood #the sun and the star #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #alternative #universe

37 notes · View notes

pjoxreader · 11 months

Note

Glad to know you finally have some break days 😁

I was wondering if you could do a reader x Grover, Jason and Leo (separately) where they find out their lover is a monster in disguise that just used much of their power to conceal themselves so that they can live a normal life and just how the boys react to this (can be angsty or fluff)

Monster Reader Gets Discovered

((Wanted to do something fluffy, cute and funny for this one!))

Grover Underwood

-You were just trying to finish getting ready for the night in your cabin… The magic from Lou Ellen Blackstone was starting to wear off so your true form was starting to show… The Hecate cabin really was amazing to make the illusion last this long… You sigh heavily as your arms begin to grow feathers and your feet turn to talons…

-You were a Harpy, not a normal demigod. Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell anyone, not even your boyfriend Grover. He was nothing but kind and sweet, and he’d likely understand but… You had already dug this grave… What… What if he was mad you kept this from him…?

-The guilt was so crushing that you didn’t even notice the knock on your cabin door. But the second you hear the door open you panic and turn, seeing none other than your boyfriend Grover.

-You feel your heart lunge to your chest as your wings cover you out of habit. “Don’t look!” you plead him not realizing your voice cracks in panic. Your heart was pounding, would he hate you now…?

-Agonizing seconds pass before a gentle hand rests on your wing. Hesitantly you lower your wings seeing Grover look at you with wonder. “You’re amazing…” he says in a voice just above a whisper as if this was a secret between the two of you.

-You go wide-eyed at that, fully not expecting that response. You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you whimper softly, all your worry and anxiety melting away. “Grover…” He smiles a bit at that gently rubbing a thumb along your cheek with a sad smile. “You can tell me this stuff you know? I’m a Satyr after all! I really wouldn’t judge you for this.” The two of you can’t help but laugh a little because he wasn’t wrong…

Jason Grace

-You sigh in relief as you make it back to your cabin, setting your crutches to the side and setting your beanie down on your desk. Thankfully you didn’t have too large of horns, so you were able to hide them under a beanie but it was still stressful…

-You would have to tell Jason eventually… But the question was when? Would he ever look at you the same knowing that you're a Satyr? Well, you’re technically a demigod too… It was like you were torn between two worlds… -You were so lost in thought and self pity that you didn't notice Jason had knocked and come in. He looks at you in surprise “horns.” he says in slight shock. You turn quickly, covering your horns with your hands in a panic. “J-Jason! It’s not what it looks like!” your mind racks for an answer, some excuse… Would he believe they were a Halloween costume?

-Jason smiles a bit sadly at that and goes over carefully moving your hands to get a better look. “Why did you hide this from me..? They’re cute…” you feel your cheeks flush when Jason calls them cute.

-”You… Think they’re cute?” you repeat hesitantly. Jason nods at that and sits down on your bed, patting it for you to come sit with him. “I do… But… Why did you never tell me?” you take a breath sitting down beside him feeling a huge weight come off your shoulders.

-”I… Don’t know… I just… Felt like I was torn between two things… I’m… I’m a Satyr but… I’m also a demigod… It… Feels like I have to choose.” Jason listens closely and nods at that holding you close to him. “I know how that feels… but you don’t have to go through this alone… I’ll be right here with you no matter what you decide to do.” you can’t help the soft smile forming on your face as you cuddle into his side. “Thank you…”

Leo Valdez

-The mist had done wonders for you, and with the help of the Hecate cabin you looked like a perfectly normal human… It was so perfect that you never wanted the illusion to end… But like every night… You watch as your two eyes start to fade and form into one eye.

-You don't hate being a cyclopes… It was part of you, but… You hated how people looked at you because of it. Like they were just waiting for you to attack. So when a child of Hecate offered to help you hide it when you were on the way to camp you took it without a second thought.

-Staying at Camp you saw and heard how people felt about Cyclops, they were nothing but monsters in their eyes… Would… Would they see you any differently? Would… Leo see you as a monster?

-”Hey mi corazón, I was thinking for date night tomorrow that we… We could… Uh…” Leo slowly starts to look up at you as you had gotten taller as the mist faded, wow you were towering over him. You can only stare at him eye wide in panic and worry as you brace for what horrible words were going to be said next.

- “Santa mierda, mami/papi?” You just stare at him in surprise as your brain starts to process what he said. Did… Did he just call you mommy/daddy!? You can’t help but burst out laughing at that mostly in surprise as Leo goes bright red covering his face.

-”I can’t believe I just said that.” Leo says clearly, having surprised himself. You were too busy doubling over in laughter to really respond. Leo groans in embarrassment even covering his face. “mi corazón, please don’t tell a soul.” He begs in a quiet voice.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo #hoo #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #pjo fluff #hoo fluff #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #jason grace #jason grace x reader #grover underwood x reader #grover underwood

151 notes · View notes

thetimetraveler24 · 3 days

Text

Here’s a cut scene from DYBWAYM. It’s more crack fic than I would like for this fic, but I thought it was funny and you guys might like it.

~from ch four of DYBWAYM

“It’s Percy,” Miranda Gardiner said. “Of course we’ll back you.”

“Yeah, Annabeth,” Connor agreed. “Besides, you’ve already got one volunteer, right, Drew?”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You volunteered to go with Jason and Leo,” Connor reminded her. “Or was that just because Jason is hot?”

Everyone looked at him. Connor faltered under their looks. “What?” he asked defensively. “He is! Kind of like a blond Percy.”

“Do you find my boyfriend attractive, Connor?” Annabeth asked, eyes narrowed.

Clarisse looked absolutely giddy over what was going down. Will was pretty sure Connor was walking into a trap. Everyone else looked amused.

“No?” Connor said, voice cracking.

“So you think he’s not good looking?” Annabeth said.

“No!” Connor protested. “He’s… he’s fine. He’s…” He dropped his head in defeat. “Can we move on?”

“Welcome to the club, dude,” Rachel said.

“The club?”

“The ‘I Would Have Tried to Date Percy Jackson If He Didn’t Have a Scary and Badass Girlfriend He Loves More Than Anything’ club,” Rachel said.

“I’m pretty sure a lot of people are in that club,” Drew said.

“Are we implying Annabeth isn’t hot?” Lou Ellen asked. “Cause she is.”

“We are so off track,” Nyssa said.

24 notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

“Piper?”

“Here.”

“Damien?”

“Here.”

“Clovis?”

No answer. Nico reaches over and pokes him, hard, and the son of Hypnos startles awake long enough to manage a garbled, “Present!” before nodding off again. At Chiron’s nodded permission, Connor procures an airhorn from what appears to be thin air, grins, and blares it right next to Clovis’ face. He shrieks, flailing off the chair, and would have slammed his face in the ground if Nico hadn’t caught him by the back of the shirt.

“Thanks, man,” he says, yawning.

Nico hauls him back upright, patting him on the shoulder. “No problem. I’m gonna let you fall next time.”

Clovis eyes him warily, shifting at Nico’s too-wide, sharklike grin.

“Noted,” he mutters, sitting straight to try and stay awake. “Jerk.”

Nico pats him on the shoulder again. “There, there.”

Chiron continues with the attendance.

“Butch?”

“Here.”

“Miranda?”

“Yep.”

“And…” Chiron sighs, peering through his reading glasses. “Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…” He glances down at his clipboard, slowly tapping his pen on the edge of it. “Where is Will?”

A groan ripples through the gathered campers.

“Just start without him!” someone shouts, sinking into their chair.

“He always takes forever!” another person agrees.

“Almost like he’s busy running the infirmary that keeps us all alive,” Lou Ellen says drily, but her one vote of confidence is drowned out by several dozen other voices, all complaining.

Before Chiron has to deal with too much of a coup d’état, the rec room door creaks open, and Will comes strolling in after it, ignoring the heaps of boos and launched ping-pong balls at his tardiness. The beam of sunlight from the one dusty window seems, suddenly, to become a great deal stronger, highlighting the blonde of Will’s hair and strengthening the gleam of his easy grin.

“Perforated artery,” he explains cheerfully, settling down in the one empty chair. “Rogue Ares cabin mine went off. Had to do emergency surgery.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth does he kick off his flip-flops, curl up in the rickety wooden chair, place his head on the nearest shoulder — Pollux, this time, who rolls his eyes affectionately and shifts to be more comfortable — and immediately starts snoring.

“Well,” says Chiron after a moment. “Let’s begin.”

“Wait,” Clovis complains, “how come he gets to sleep?”

Instead of answering, because there is no delicate way to say because he’s my favourite and I am a giant hypocrite, the centaur moves on. He gracefully avoids the various mutterings and calls for mutiny, instead running through the usual cabin check-ins at the speed of light to delve into the more interesting — and therefore distracting — things, such as Personal Grievances. This portion of monthly head counsellor meetings is Nico’s favourite, because he gets to sit back, be silent, and watch a bunch of teenagers yell at each other for his own personal amusement. On especially great days, he communicates with Connor through a series of complicated hand gestures to coordinate betting pools. Today, he is up seventy-two dollars. (Did he throw the pool by betting against himself and then inventing a fight with Chiara? Yeah. Did he cut her a deal for halfsies beforehand, making this technically fraud on two counts? Yeah. Can anyone prove it? Absolutely not. Suck on that, Stoll. You wanna be beat at your own game any day of the week? Nico’ll beat you at your own game any day of the week.)

As he’s accepting three dollars from a huffy Nysa (obviously the physical altercation count was going to reach six, c’mon, doesn’t she pay attention to these things), a hoof stamping the ground makes Nico jump.

“Boys,” Chiron says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that’s quite enough.”

Both campers immediately burst into louder arguments, continuing to flail and smack at each other as their voices get more and more raised and illegible.

“Boys!” Chiron stamps his hoof again. This time, they fall silent, staring at the old centaur with flushed, guilty faces. “Sherman, get Malcom out of that headlock. Malcolm, we are not building a pig pen in the dining pavilion so the Ares cabin can ‘eat in an environment more suited to their mannerisms’.” He pauses, nodding in acknowledgement. “As funny as that was, it was entirely inappropriate to say. Apologise at once.”

“My throat is too bruised to do so,” Malcom grumbles.

“My throat is too bruised to do so,” Sherman repeats, mockingly. “Gods, it’s like you’re asking for me to jump you.” At the immediate catcalls and jeers that follow, he reddens, hastily shouting, “Like mug! Jump like mug him, guys, like beat him up! Shut up! Shut up, or I swear I’ll —”

“Sit down, boys,” Chiron says, banging his hoof again. “For Hera’s sake. It’s like you want to embarrass yourselves further.”

Nico snickers with the rest of the counsellors as Sherman and Malcolm return to their seats. In their desperate attempt to separate from each other to assure their status as Heterosexual, Guys, Please, they manage to bump into each other, losing their balance and collapsing on a heap on the floor, more tangled than before. Predictably, this makes the flailing worse, which is unfortunate for them and their misery but a source of great entertainment for everyone else. Among the hooting and hollering and camera flashes, Chiron sighs, putting his head in his hands and muttering something about teenagers and being too old for this shit. Or something.

“If everyone’s quite done,” he says finally, ignoring Connor’s quip about how he could watch a few more minutes, actually, “I would love for this meeting to end. I have to do something that doesn’t involve teenagers for several hours. All of you exhaust me.”

“Except Will,” Sherman says petulantly, scowling at the still-sleeping medic. Pollux, who by close proximity has become endeared to the human disaster (Nico knows the feeling; he’s still convinced Will has weird powers that mess with one’s oxytocin levels by virtue of smiling as there is no way that someone so annoying can be so simultaneously endearing), glares somewhat protectively.

“Sh,” he hisses, at the same time Chiron says, “If the rest of you spent less time trying to kill each other and more time trying to fix the consequences of said attempted murder, I would be more lenient.”

Lou Ellen speaks up. “Also, Will has that whole cute, can’t-stay-mad-at-me thing.”

Various campers nod and mutter in agreement.

(Nico knew he wasn’t the only one.)

Nyssa clears her throat. “If we’re ready to return back to the actual meeting, I have a point of discussion.”

Chiron nods, gesturing for her to continue.

“The vans are breaking down,” she says bluntly. “Again. Because they’re, you know, older than everyone in the room.” She glances at Nico, frowning. “Well, except for him.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “Youngin’s, these days,” he says, shaking his head disdainfully. “No respect for their elders.”

Chiron raises a bemused eyebrow. “…Indeed. Nyssa?”

“I need parts again. Preferably from that place in Virginia? They don’t ask questions and price fairly. That would be best. Only I need the van to go get the parts, so. You can see the conundrum I’m in.”

“Easy fix with the chariot,” Chiron decides. “Can someone wake Will?”

“Gladly.”

“Without the airhorn, Connor.”

“Aw. I’m not doing it, then.”

“How tragic. Pollux?”

Gently, the son of Dionysus taps Will’s cheek, shaking him until he blinks awake.

“I was totally paying attention and I think we should go with the second option,” he says, yawning.

“Not asking you to settle a debate, but nice try,” Pollux says.

“Well, shit. That one usually works.” He flicks still-tired eyes around the room, smiling when his gaze rests on Nico. Nico rolls his eyes, willing down the heat to his cheeks. Judging by the teasing edge Will’s grin takes, it does not work. “Whattaya need, then?

“The chariot,” Nyssa says. “Vans are breaking down again. I need a part from a shop in Roanoke.”

Will straightens. “Like, now?”

“In the next day or so, yeah.”

“There’s a strawberry delivery on Saturday,” Miranda pipes up. “So sooner rather than later.”

Will nods. “Yeah, that works. Hell, I can probably be back by —” he checks his watch — “late tonight, honestly. Just gimme the part number and —”

“I kind of meant that I could go,” Nyssa interrupts, looking at him strangely. “I know what the part looks like. I just need to borrow the chariot.”

Will presses his clasped hands to his face, inhaling deeply.

“I would absolutely love to lend you the chariot blessed by my father who has gone totally silent,” he begins, in a tone that makes Nico think that he would not, actually, absolutely love to lend out the chariot blessed by his father who has gone totally silent, “only that the last time I lent someone this super important chariot it came back in pieces.”

“I remember.” Nyssa levels him with a look. “I fixed it.”

“Exactly! So you appreciate how much I would like it to not be broken. In fact —”

“Alright,” Chiron interrupts, holding up a hand. “You’ve made your point, Will, the errand is yours. Choose a buddy to lower the chances of you dying and check in before you leave.”

Predictably, this choice is not well-recieved. Because why would things be easy?

“Totally not fair,” Sherman protests, the loudest of all complainers. “Will’s no less likely to break it just because his cabin thinks they own it —”

“Finish that thought and I will curse you in twelve different ways for the next eight months, Sherman.”

The Ares counsellor snaps his mouth shut, sensing the new, hardened edge in Will’s voice. “Noted.”

“He’s got a point, though,” Damien hedges. At Will’s glare — boy, is that chariot a sensitive topic, Nico is noticing — he holds his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. “We draw straws for small errand-quests, Will, you know that. It’s not fair that you just get to call dibs.”

Will takes a long, slow breath, fingers pressed to his temples. When he looks back up, his expression is flatter than the entirety of the Midwest, jaw set and eyebrow raised. He narrows his eyes, contemplating, then clearly comes to a decision, nodding to himself. Everyone watches with bated breath as he climbs up to stand on his chair, folds his hands together, clears his throat, and says, voice carefully controlled, “Who can guess how many surgeries I’ve done in the last week?”

For a long moment it’s so silent that Nico can hear every rustled shirt as people fidget, every aborted cough and uncomfortable swallow. Will’s eyes are piercing, and he takes the time to stare at every individual counsellor until they meet his eyes, squirming, and look immediately away.

Nico’s impressed. Sometimes he forgets how godsdamn rigid Will’s backbone is.

Finally, someone offers a guess.

“One?”

“Try four,” Will corrects, smile more like a bare of teeth. “I have not had a circadian rhythm since I was thirteen years old. I sleep when I can. And yet, somehow, you clumsy fucks manage to near kill yourself at the exact moment my subconscious even considers approaching REM sleep, every single time, and then I get to spend my next several hours piecing your sorry ass back together by hand, since hymns barely work right now. If I have to see another surgical pin I am going to stab it through someone’s eye. Am I making a point?”

No one answers.

“‘Cause I can make it clearer,” Will drawls.

“No need,” Chiron says hastily. “The quest remains yours, so long as there are no further objections.”

Wisely, no one speaks up.

“Perfect. Nyssa, if you’ll stay behind with me to iron out some details, everyone else — dismissed.”

The tense air immediately evaporates as people practically spring out of their seats, sprinting for the door. Nico is among the last to leave, having to stay and stop several fleeing demigods to collect his wares. On his way out, a heavy arm slings over his shoulders, and he’s suddenly enveloped by the intoxicating scent of lavender body wash and pure sunshine.

“Get off me, Solace,” he complains immediately, coming up to wrap his hand around Will’s forearm in the guise of shoving him off. Will is entirely unfazed, holding him tighter.

“But I have a proposal.”

“Take it elsewhere.” He ducks out of Will’s hold and sweeps his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling with an oof. Unfortunately, he doesn’t look any less sunny and smiley from the ground, somehow making it work for him, actually. He settles against the soft grass, sighing, hair fanning out like a golden halo. He pats the spot next to him, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in the late morning sun, and Nico swallows roughly, joining him.

“You wanna come with me to Roanoke?”

“Yes,” Nico says automatically. Will grins, and he flushes. “I mean, I guess if I have to. Loser.”

“Ever so grateful, Neeks.”

“You should be.”

He keeps his voice prim and superior, attempting to uphold his image, and since he is delusional he convinces himself he’s successful. Will, though, is entirely undeterred, lazy smile still on his face and arms stretched above his head, the picture of unbothered. A sliver of skin shows where the hem of his shirt rises and Nico ignores it. He doesn’t even glance at it, or the glint of Will’s belly-button piercing, at all. Nor is he aware of Will’s shorts riding up, or the curve of his calves as he crosses his legs. All of these things go unnoticed. Obviously.

“I have a proposal for you, if you’re done checking me out.”

Nico shoves his flaming face in his knees. “Did you know that in all the corners of the Earth I have been to, I’ve only encountered three things uglier than you?”

Will’s grin only gets wider. His eyes, even, start to get squinty as the force of his smile squishes his cheeks. Entirely unsubtly, because Will is the least subtle person alive, he reaches out and sends a wave of calming energy into Nico’s body, slowing his rapid heart rate.

“…Right.”

“Three things, Solace.”

“Of course, of course.” He removes his hand, graciously allowing Nico the space to breathe and remind his lungs that their job is not voluntary. “I’ll come pick you up in a half hour? Wear a jacket.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Nico pauses. “Yes.”

“Stellar.”

“God, you say such nerdy things unironically. How do you have friends?”

“I dunno.” He gets to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass from his shorts. “You tell me.” He leans down and presses a smacking kiss to Nico’s hair. Nico presses his fingers into his eyeballs until they hurt, screaming silently into his palms.

He waits until the smacking sounds of Will’s stupid flip-flops retreat before braving the world outside his little ball of misery, squinting at his retreating form.

“I think I should get a lobotomy,” he says out loud to himself, because, realistically, if his braincells are already spilling out of his ears like loose quarters every time Solace so much as smiles at him then there’s not much to lose, is there? and stomps off to his own cabin.

Out of spite, he chooses the New York Giants jacket he got from Percy, just because he knows Will hates it.

That’ll show him who’s bossing who around.

Totally.

———

510 notes · View notes

a-french-coconut · 13 days

Text

Travis Stoll (Part 4)

All the counsellors are seated around the pool table, Chiron towering over them in his centaur form.

There's some new faces Travis isn't used to see here.

Malcolm took Annabeth's place, his grey eyes are sullen, his blond hair a rat nest.

Ah. He does remember hearing Connor talk about how smart, amazing, clever, beautiful the son of Athena is.

Next to him is Miranda Gardiner, when she sees him looking at her she gives a small comforting smile. She's never been as bitter as Katie for the Easter bunnies.

Then there's Sherman for Ares who's new but the rest is familiar.

Jake Mason for Hephaestus, Drew for Aphrodite, his dear Will for Apollo and himself for Hermes.

As for the minor gods, Travis knows every counsellor.

Lou Ellen, Paolo, Damian, Chiara, Holly and Laurel, Clovis, Butch, all of them stayed under his care before Percy's wish to the Olympians.

He remembers fondly their departure from the Hermes Cabin. There had been crying, hugging as well as promises of always be there for them should they ever need it. He likes to think he kept that promise rather well, judging form the smiles he's receiving he doesn't think he's wrong.

"Children settle down, we have work to do."

"The prophecy is about Connor, I'm sure of it Chiron."

"I agree with Travis, in this context the youngest brother can only mean him", Malcolm adds.

"Any ideas for the questers ?" asks Miranda.

"Travis and me, tale as old as deceit must be a reference to Hermes stealing my father's cattle. Even more, the liar and the healer don't let place much more interpretations," reasons Will.

"I think I know where you headed," pipes up Lou, "the crying chants could mean the Underworld. Like, the screams of the damned from the Fields of Punishment."

"Charming interpretation Lou," he mumbles, shooting a small smile to the girl who only shrugs.

"You're clearly looking for a plant. One I suppose is from Persephone's garden. It is composed of flowers made from jewels which explains the gleaming petals and lifeless plants."

They all look at Drew with surprise.

"That's... that's actually a very good guess Tanaka," Damian says, shock written all over his face.

"You don't have to look so surprised. I think we have already established the fact that Aphrodite's daughters can be full of surprises, a lot of you know that."

"Miss Tanaka," warns Chiron, "this meeting is crucial to the survival of one of your campmates, please refrain from causing any kind of strife."

Drew huffs but otherwise stays silent.

Yes Drew, please don't mention the sensitive subject of Silena when my brother's life in on the line.

"Okay, so we know that Will and I have to go the Underworld and find a way to get the flower. All in two days, the scythe reaps at the end of the second day, it's Thanatos's one isn't it ? Connor got two days left, just like you said Will."

Two days to find an entrance to the Underworld.

Two days to convince a goddess to give them what they want.

Two days to come back with the cure.

It's not enough, the first day has already begun and they haven't even left Camp.

Travis's grips his chair under the table, fingers turning white.

It's not enough time and everybody in this room is aware of the irony.

A son of Hermes not being fast enough.

"Time passes differently in the Underworld, as it does in dreams by the way," yawns Clovis, "you cannot not try."

"What if I don't make it ? I have to be by my brother's side when he..." his voice cracks, "when he leaves us."

Clovis raises his eyebrow, "And if you don't try, you will be left with an everlasting doubt and guilt about doing nothing. I have travelled through so many dreams Travis, so many demigods consumed by regret. Connor will be into good hands here, surrounded by fiends. Your job as his brother is to do everything in your power to save him."

He concludes his tirade by face planting on the table, soft snores following quickly after.

"Now Damian, that's someone you can look with surprise," says Drew with a touch of admiration in her voice, "who knew Clovis could be such a philosopher ?"

Lou Ellen raises her hand.

"What about the price you are willing to pay ?", asks Holly, "obviously Persephone is not going to give you the flower for free. Gods, and me, never miss a chance to win something in a deal."

"She's right, a flower with the power the save someone's life..." Damian hesitates, "she'll want something equal in value."

Another life is left unsaid.

An eye for an eye, a life for a life.

Fair enough a deal, one Travis is willing to take.

"Travis, I'm not letting you go on this quest unless you promise not to sacrifice your life."

Will's voice is firm leaving no place for argumentation.

"What ? Will I have to go on this quest ! The prophecy says so."

"Don't lecture on prophecies ! It says that a liar must go on a quest to save a younger brother. It could very well mean Chris."

"Oh please ! We both know it means me ! Why would you not let me go on a quest to save my brother ?! You know more than enough what's it's like to lose them !"

"And that's why I don't won't to lose another one !"

Will's cracking voice leaves him silent. The others demigods are pointedly looking either at the ceiling or the ground, fidgeting uncomfortably on their seats.

The son of Apollo takes a big breath and looks in his eyes.

"Promise me, Travis, that you want exchange your life for the flower. I don't want that. Connor wouldn't want that."

Deep down, Travis knows his best friend is right.

"But", he says shakily, "it might the only way."

"It won't be. We'll find another one. We'll steal the damn flower if we need to. But you are not killing yourself."

Killing yourself

Leaving Connor alone again.

Leaving Connor with the guilt of being alive because his brother died for him.

He crumbles on his chair and Will is instantly by his side, a comforting presence next to him.

"I promise you Will, I promise you I won't sacrifice myself."

The relief in the grip on his shoulder indicates him that Will believes him.

Chiron clears his throat.

"Mister Stoll and Mister Solace, please go back to your respective cabins and pack whatever you think is necessary. You are both experienced campers, I trust your judgment. You are to depart immediately."

Travis nods before standing up and leaving the Big House, not before the other counsellors wished him luck. He even received a bandanna from Paolo, the son of Hebe claiming it has magical properties.

Once he packed everything he needed and said goodbye to his siblings, he joins Will at Thalia's tree.

"Where are we going doctor ?"

"You're supposed to be the traveller, you tell me."

"You lack of knowledge is astonishing my dear friend, our destination is New York, Central Park."

"Underworld entrance I presume ?"

"You are sure you didn't inherit any kind of prophetic abilities ? You deduction skills are remarkable Watson !"

"Why am I Watson ? I'm smart enough to be Sherlock !"

"Watson's doctor dummy."

"And Sherlock's a drug addict. You're right, fits just like a glove."

Travis punches Will on the shoulder, the little brat snickering as he runs to Argos who's driving them to New York.

Hold on Connie, I'll save you, I promise.

part 5 posted !

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #will solace #connor stoll #travis stoll #camp half blood #riordanverse #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

25 notes · View notes

happyk44 · 1 year

Text

The spitfire words - kill yourself - still echo in the air around that one spot at the dining pavilion and people avoid it like the plague. It's brushed clean of tracked dirt from the soles of shoes, a person shaped hollowness, representative of their fears.

He'd cried a little after he said it. When the camper he'd screamed it at lifted their knife and cut their own throat so deep they could not be saved.

Blood was heavy in the air, thick like iron. Jason inhaled it over and over again and watched Nico freeze with wide eyes as everyone around him cried out and scrambled forward. The little girl he'd been defending stopped crying.

Jason hadn't met her before. She was brand-new to camp, my niece, Nico had said in a voice note when asking Jason to visit. The daughter of blessed death and going to sleep with a quiet sigh and deflating lungs, painless and comforting.

And Nico had come back from a three-day excursion in South America - Brazil or Peru, Jason couldn't remember - to find out that some hardheaded son of Ares had been bullying her. Quietly out of view of other people who might've agreed but would've chastised him. Apparently she didn't fit. He thought she should leave with her uncle and never come back.

Jason knows Ares, Mars, whichever one the god chooses to be at any given moment, likes death. Needs it to make his wars. There's no goal if death isn't there. No sense to it but the slaughter and maybe Ares is more bloodlust than Mars but one in the same, how can violence prevail if everyone is too busy fighting the same war over and over again.

So the kid doesn't match up and now he's dead in the ground. Nico left into the shadows only minutes after. Calanthe went with him.

Jason remembers Nico muttering to him about how, despite Will's careful kind words, he still felt like a pariah, eyes watching him, people wondering why he was still around. Jason didn't know how to tell him his fears were right. People whispered and the air was soft and sweet, carried those whispers right to Jason's ears and drove him mad with protective care.

It doesn't shock him when the whispers become bolder, louder, in Nico's absence.

Nico had said once, This place isn't meant for the Underworld. It's too bright for us. We're cave-dwellers at heart. He'd called things off with Will hours after that and sometimes Jason wondered if that was what he'd meant. Olympus was high on the mountain, bright in the sky, like Will and all the others. Nico was grounded in dirt and darkness.

Jason didn't mind burying himself with him though.

He was pretty sure he could find air in the depths.

The blood was scrubbed clean from the concrete but sometimes its resurfaces, pooling and puddling in the pores. It tastes sharp and bitter in the stale air. It smells like a reminder. Jason mentions it once, offbeat, as he walks Lou Ellen into the cozy cottage hidden clustered in far edges of a forest and Nico just rolls his eyes and mutters something about his brother and threats.

Zagreus despises Olympus almost as much as he loves his father. As much as love his mother and his siblings.

Zagreus would burn it down if he could but he settles for subtle threats and crafting a forest to hide all the dark and dreary, the children that belong to shadows and solitude and exhale gravedirt from their lungs and drive madness through whispering waking nightmares.

Jason never asks how Nico did it. But he dreams of it. It's not the same as charmspeak. He remembers how that had felt, when Piper used to talk to him and his world went fuzzy around the edges, and he was hazed away, not really himself, but unaware that something was wrong until she was finally gone and days faded into months and suddenly the air was sweeter than it had ever been.

Her words had crowded into his head so fierce his memories had been pushed away. The headache that had pounded for days after while he finally recovered who he was, or, rather, who he'd been once before.

The dream turns him from a bystander to a victim, to a bully feeling greater than themselves, and it makes him laugh. Jason has always been bigger than britches, deserved and fought for with teeth and claws and a determination to survive that this dreamlike body doesn't carry. Couldn't even comprehend.

(Won't ever comprehend)

But Nico's words hit him and it warps everything. Oh. He does want to kill himself. He wants nothing more than to drive the knife into his throat and die. So he does.

Over and over again, mechanical and determined.

It's like a twist in his very being - different from Piper's pretty soft words. If she'd told him to, he'd paused and questioned it until she repeated it with more conviction. If she'd told him to kill himself, the world would've gone fuzzy around the edges and he wouldn't want to so much as he'd be convinced to. She's so pretty. Why not do it? Just to make her happy. When he snapped out it - either when the knife made contact with the flesh of his throat, or maybe further past that when Thanatos was collecting his soul - he'd wonder to himself, Why did I do that?

With Nico's words, they're vicious and to the point. It sinks like heavy hot fog into his soul and warps him different. He wants to do it. Not because Nico said to. But because he wants. He wants to kill himself.

So he does. There's no question. And there's no wondering, there's no why.

There never will be.

When he wakes up, Jason tastes blood on his tongue and wishes he cared. But he doesn't. So he doesn't ask about it. Nico isn't afraid to speak. Sometimes Jason doesn't know if it was an accident, too much force, too much anger. Or if it was intentional, rage and reactivity being what they are.

He knows that - knows it like the snap of his jaw around another's throat for calling Dakota a bastard and making his eyes well up thick and heavy. Knows it like the twitch of his fingers, the itch to claw, when the whispers at camp become heated and nervous.

Lou Ellen leaves and Clovis leaves. They all follow Jason like pups to the feast. The Underworld does not breathe at camp anymore. You'd think that would make all their fears sleep easy but it just makes them anxious.

He wanted them where he could see them, Percy had said late one night, when Nico was fast asleep, sandwiched between them. Percy's hands are soft on Nico's hair. He smells like saltwater and it mixes with Nico's graveyard scent easy. Jason could track that scent from the other side of the country.

Who did? Jason asked, and Percy's lips twitched, brows furrowing.

Nico had woken up screaming and sobbing and calling out for his mom and when Jason had aprooached him, he'd scrambled back in fear, screeching bloody murder. Percy had come barreling into the bedroom. The scent of popcorn filled Jason's nose, but the food itself had been scattered in the hallway with Percy's rushed footsteps.

There was no flinching from Percy when he approached and Jason had thought it was Tartarus thing but Nico's fearful gaze, trained and tracked on Jason's soul, made him quickly realize that, no, this was something different.

Your dad, Percy answered carefully. He stroked Nico's hair sweetly and Jason wondered if Nico knew that Percy loves him. He wanted our cousins where he could see them and when Hades refused to send Nico and Bianca away, he tried to kill them.

He kissed Nico's forehead and held his clammy hand tight in his grip. Nico murmured something soft under his breath, faintly Italian, and curled deeper into Percy's protective hold.

That's why he was scared of you earlier.

Nico had once told him he had a soul like his father - electric yellow and loud. It had made Jason squirm to consider. It made him bitter then, with Percy's words and Nico's fear and the fact that even with Nico cuddled next to him, he felt like he was miles away.

It still annoys him to think. He doesn't want to be his father, paranoid and cruel. He wants to be like the Jupiter, the Zeus, the one that represented leadership and strength, law and order, the sky and thundering rains.

Not the coward that kills children because he's scared of being dethroned, and sends monsters after his own son until that child is driven to the Underworld to taste the protection of pomegranate seeds just because that child called out his own stupidity.

Percy doesn't visit camp anymore either. Although his father loves him, and he is hurricane of a demigod to deal with so monsters cower from him more than they chase him. He's loyal to his friends and with Annabeth aging out of camp and Grover venturing further and farther, his bindings to the place that caused him pain have more than unshackled from his skin.

He worries, though, about the people that will come after him, the siblings that are on the way, toddler feet no doubt scampering over tile and hardwood floors right now, and Nico rolls his eyes and mutters, Poseidon was thought to be chthonic too sometimes. And Percy relaxes.

Jason would too.

He wouldn't want his siblings to grow up in a world that looks at Nico and thinks him dangerous instead of beautiful, even with blood on his hands and a fire in his teeth. Maybe that's a curse of being wolf-raised. He sees more love in fangs born hard into flesh and bloodied meat piled on dirty floors than he does in empty words and love letters he can't read.

But Poseidon is different from Zeus, Neptune different from Jupiter. The Underworld is depths below the earth and darkness and caves and monsters, and the ocean understands all of that well.

So Jason is welcome because he is touched by darkness from the ruby stain of bitterness on his tongue, and Hermes is welcome, in fragile spades, the ghostly kids that hid themselves and their powers until they saw Jason walk out with Thanatos's young son asleep on his shoulder, and whispered, "Can I come?" and chased him as their father chases the wind and ghosts.

Jason only ever visits to bring them back here. To hear the whispers from satyrs being sent on quests and outrunning them as wolves outrun their prey, as the wind reaches shores, sweeping up kids with shadows in their veins and gravedirt in their lungs before the enemy can touch down in a tornado of future pain.

There's few of them on the radar - their parents love them as the ground loves a corpse, and keeps them safer than the sky ever could. And the ones off the radar, untouched by howling winds and unscented in grasping air, visit regularly, touch their beloved siblings and cousins and teach them how to hold their heads held high.

The ones who can't go home, who have no home to return to, stay with Nico and Jason remembers bitter seeds chewed up in his mouth, watching his uncle crowded by doting loving employees, who were more family than the people on the mountain miles above and states away.

It is more love than he has known before. Wolf hearts and warm fur meant more to him than wide eyes begging him to speak when he didn't know how words fit in his mouth. When the pedestal they dragged him onto was too cold and too high and he wanted to be back in the grass, rolling in the dirt, and growling at birds.

He learned to make his own heat, and learned not to crave the warmth of another's hold.

It was different now. Warmer. Softer. The cottage is one-story, unassuming, until you walk down and down and shadows pull you into cave-like structures decorated in string lights and soft golds. It's dim and comforting and no one has to sleep alone just because there isn't anyone to call them a sibling. Everybody shares and everybody has their own space and everyone pulls Jason into cuddlepiles, seeking his heat and strong arms to snuggle.

Before he'd seen his muscles for warrior strength, but now it's to lift four or so conked out preteens to bed and rearrange furniture, and that matters more to him than anything. But even still, no one bats an eye when he shoots forward and sinks his teeth into monster flesh and no one complains when he licks blood from his hands.

The inhumanity of his humanity is never questioned here, not among the otherworldly spectators who see beauty in dark things.

Nico pours him a glass of pomegranate juice and chases Jason into their shared bed. It feels partially-empty without Percy on the other side, but Hazel drops into the space with a loud yawn and it's better.

Hazel visits often. Frank doesn't follow, but he calls. Hazel disappears into shadows and emerges in the outdoors to answer the calls. She will not jeopardize their safety in anyway, even though Jason is sure Frank would follow her into the wrong side of any war if she asked.

The kids love Hazel as much as they love Nico and the covet all the time they get with her. She wilts whenever she has to leave and Jason wonders how long it will take before she stops. Before she ditches her house in New Rome and crafts her own space deep below the earth where the shadows whisper and gold lays.

He wonders how long it would take Frank to settle in with the rest of them. Not long, he thinks.

Once you've seen the beauty of the dark, it's hard to return to the harsh ugliness of the light.

#nico di angelo #jason grace #percy jackson #my fanfic #my writing #happy talks pjo #it is midnight so i do in fact have to stop here but yeah #uhhhh please enjoy i don't know where all this came from but i've been writing for an hour?? lmao

180 notes · View notes