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I’m tired of the constant hate towards making male characters more feminine. Having fem traits doesn’t make a character weak and it doesn’t make a them submissive.

So, just out of spite, take some headcanons that show the more fem(?) side of Will and Nico:

Before Will and Nico dated, Will was with Drew Tanaka (he’s got a type). He had told Drew he wanted to do her nails for her like the gentleman he is, so she taught him how to expertly treat nails and paint them. Ever since then, Will almost always paints his and his sibling’s nails. When Nico and him got together (and Nico felt more comfortable with who he is), Will made it so that every two weeks they got their nails painted (they also put face masks and gossip, because those two gossip a lot).

Nico likes to be held, to get carried to bed when he’s hurt or tired, to rest in the arms of people he deeply cares about. He would never admit this, it could ruin his edgy reputation. But that feeling has always warmed his heart, someone caring for him so much they want to keep him in their hold, they want him around, they don’t want to let go, its something he thought he would never have. It’s the touch he had desperately craved but flinched away from. Now, he finally has it, and he won’t let it go.

I will die on the “Nico’s the little spoon” hill. That boy’s the master of curling into a tight ball and sleeping like the dead. He’s an isopod man. Sometimes he’s too curled up Will tries to shift him into a more comfortable position so he doesn’t destroy his back. (And of course Mr. Will “I love to hold other people so they are safe in my arms” Solace takes advantage of that.) but I also think this is a protective instinct, he unconsciously does it because he feels safer (more so when someone he loves is holding him). He probably learned to do this those few years he was homeless. Also he’s cold.

Will has a very long and complex hair routine, he’s so dedicated he wakes up at 5 am to do it early in the morning and take his sweet time. His hair was messy asf before Hazel taught him how to properly treat it. He’s become obsessed with curly hair routines now, sometimes he does his routine with Nico (when his boyfriend’s too tired to complain). Will has one of the shiniest and healthiest hairs in camp.

Will loves to braid Nico’s hair, especially when it gets long. He makes tiny braids that are scattered around when he gets bored, when they are cuddling, when Nico’s sitting next to him or on his lap, when he needs to do something with his hands. He does this with his siblings too! Kayla’s the only one who gets annoyed when he does it to her but she lets him have it.

Nico’s lips are always dry asf (dehydrated mf) and he always bites the dry skin when he’s stressed or just thinking. Will forced him to have a chapstick in his pocket at all times. The chapstick has a hint of maroon, Will justified it by claiming it made Nico look more alive and less like a zombie (Will actually bought it because he likes how the color looks on Nico).

I’m genuinely curious if these are actually more feminine things. To me, they’re not. Because everyone has a different conception of what’s fem or masc to the point were you start thinking if it really matters. In conclusion, labeling is stupid.

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Was thinking about how in ToA we got a bit more of a domestic feeling with CHB,something that I personally never felt much after the first ever book,before the plot kickstarted and,no matter how traumatizing it is,having the older campers teaching the new ones classes would be something else.

Apollo commented in the Hidden Oracle how some demigods were new and got brought at camp after the war (6 months is a lot of time after all–),while also pointing out that most of the old characters we know are away,trying to live their life,but come back periodically.

Now,image Clarisse teaching some fighting class in the arena to new demigods,and they are all a bit wary of her because they don't know her but some of her siblings do and they talked about her. And while the tension is high Clarisse isn't aware of it and start to shout,frustrated by their incapability of striking her down.

"Have you all gone soft?! At your ages I was battling a drakon with the blood of my enemies on my hands while trying to win a war! You need to do fucking better if you want to survive!" and everyone is just confused because they know a bit of the wars,but their acknowledge of them is only a surface type of level,so they have no idea of what the hell she is talking about and they are getting scared.

Some of them ask questions about them to the Stolls,only to find themselves more lost than never. "Ah,the war. Which one you talking about? The one where we tried to raid Manhattan's candy stores or the one where we put the mines on the wrong hill?" Wdym you guys tried to steal candies in the middle of a war to save the world? "Well,with all due respect,Percy was handle it quite well before the pig started flying".

Sometimes,when Will is in a good mood,he start talking about the one with the giants himself–usually Nico is always nearby and either nod at his words or clarifies some things. "You guys weren't there for that but basically the whole conflict was based on racism. You see,there was this anemic roman soldier guy that–" and while you are immersed in his story,you sometimes hear a quite voice that "I literally had to chase you to save you from people that were chasing you" and "Will,pretty sure I killed the guy,you don't need to act as if he is still alive" or "It was crazy–I never knew that the coach was actually a good flighter,especially after Albania".

When Drew complains about something during breakfast she tries to guilt-trip Chiron with "Remember when you left us to defend ourselves alone,before coming back at the last moment and helped us with your 'my little pony family'? Yeah,not so over that yet. This is way having the pavilion built in pink would be a better option than–" and you just stare in the fucking air because what the fuck???

When Rachel visit,and isn't locked in her cave trying to understand what's going on with her Oracle's powers,she muttered things about the wars that seems disconnected to everyone–expect people that were there at time. "Should have said to Annabeth to crash that stupid helicopter into my father's building" ; "Fuck being an Oracle,let me go back to my Ariadne roots in the Labyrinth" ; "I should have hit Kronos harder" ; "Should have hit Octavian when I still could if I knew this would have happened". Most of the time it's just frustration building up but every time she whisper something they collectively ignore it.

Nyssa will look at you dead in the eyes and– "My brother blew up" without fucking elaborating and walking away. And you are there horrified about it.

Percy and Annabeth don't really talk about the wars but they will gave you the details about the stupidest things ever. Wdym you jumped into the rivers,only to purify them from pollution,in the middle of a war? Wdym you spent half a day trying to active statues in all New York?? You went in Tartarus??

And it's just so funny because the new demigods will know some informations about the conflicts,but they weren't there to witness it all. The drop lore is insane here. I just know that Drew,Nico and Clarisse always talk about it,exaggerating it even,only to fuck with the new campers more.

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What ever you do don't think about Pollux breaking all the mirrors in his cabin because he couldn't stand seeing his brother's face looking back at him.

What ever you do don't think about Connor Stoll stepping up to the head counselor role even though he was far too young for it because Travis couldn't handle it alone.

What ever you do don't think about Micheal Yew trying to always keep a smile on his face even when he was breaking apart on the inside because that was what Lee always did. Don't think about Will Solace who tries to be louder, angrier because Micheal always was. Who smiles though the pain because if he lets himself grief for even a moment he wouldn't ever stol

What ever you do don't think about how much Clarisse hates herself for staying back. Don't think about a Clarisse that knows every single Aphrodite and Apollo kid by name because the dead can not forgive her.

What ever you do don't think about Percy blaming himself for every death. Don't think about Annabeth who hates that she wasn't strong enough.

What ever you do don't think about the fact that these are CHILDREN who fought in a war.

What ever you do don't think about who had to die to make them the heroes that they are today.

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In the last Olympian Percy’s says there were 40 demigods that went fighting into battle of manhattan and later on the ares cabin joined so they weren’t even counted in that 40.

And in the end of the book Percy’s says there were only about “20 odd” demigods that survived and made it back to camp.

Roughly half of the whole entire camp perished in battle of manhattan.

And I’ve done the math and figured out who all the veteran characters are. Most of these are all characters mentioned both before and after the battle of manhattan and some of them were introduced in HoO but said to have been at camp since the titan war. These are the only known true survivors of BoM and it adds up to about 20. This is all of them. None of them are unknown. Do with this what you will

All of the battle of manhattan veterans in order of their cabin numbers :

Percy Jackson

Katie Gardiner

Miranda Gardener

Clarrise La Rue

Sherman Yang

Ellis Wakefield

Annabeth Chase

Malcolm Pace

Will Solace

Austin Lake

Kayla Knowles

Jake Mason

Nyssa Barrera

Harley

Drew Tanaka

Lacy

Mitchel

Chris Rodriguez

Travis Stoll

Connor Stoll

Pollux

Nico di Angelo

Butch Walker

Holly Victor

Laurel Victor

Can you imagine them all going back to camp together in only of those Delphi strawberry busses when they came in four busses. All of them together in a tiny bus grieving their lost siblings together.

Percy Annabeth And Nico went on a wild goose chase after Rachel who had just highjacked Black Jack and that’s how they got back to camp they weren’t on the bus.

Malcolm was all alone and might have believed Annabeth died out there in the streets somewhere or in the Empire State Building. (He’s elated to find her alive at camp later. But god that was a scary couple of hours on the bus thinking he’s all alone now)

Malcolm sits with Butch and Pollux because they’re the only other campers on the bus without siblings. Butch just because he happens to be the only known iris kid at camp and Pollux because he lost Castor in battle of the labyrinth.

All the others sit with their siblings. Or what’s left of them. Entire large cabins that used to have 10-20 kids on average now reduced down to 1-3 kids. Some died. Some joined Luke and probably died soon after.

Edit : And since I’ve seen some Titan army hate in these comments for no reason here’s something else I should have said.

If they joined Luke but somehow survived they were probably wrongfully murdered by the gods for rebelling or brutally punished somehow like Alabaster Torrington. So many titan army kids perished too. Don’t forget them. They fought for a noble cause. They didn’t die for nothing. They were just kids with dreams of making things less shitty for everyone. They suffered just as much if not more than the camp halfblood kids all at the hands of the gods and the titans and even other demigods that were higher up on the Olympus hierarchy. Nico, Ethan, any kid who’s not a child of the big 12 were not treated as equals at camp back then just because of their parentage or lack of powers or unique or scary powers. A lot of titan army kids were from minor gods who suffered because of the big 12 and their children. Camp halfblood wasn’t so nice to them in fact pretty cruel and rude and mean just because of that stupid hierarchy. Of course they felt hurt and fell into Kronos’s trap of trying to make things better. Of course Luke being their counselor at camp cause Hermes takes in all the minor god kids saw all them suffering and tried his best to help. Of course Luke fell into Krnos’s trap as well. and I refuse to tolerate any hate or misunderstanding of them.

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Assuming that:

Luke was Camp Half-Blood's sword instructor for quite some time (let's say 2-4 years) before he went rogue, and

Most of the demigods at Camp were at least a few years younger than him (considering that iirc at the start of TLT it's implied he's one of the oldest demigods at Camp),

It seems likely that he was teaching swordfighting when a lot of the demigod kids were amateurs or complete beginners. He basically singlehandedly taught the new generation of demigods at Camp how to fight, and by doing so probably helped shape their swordfighting styles.

So now there's this new generation of kids who learnt how to wield a sword from Luke, who learnt how to roll and slash and stab and parry the same way he does, with the same habits he has.

Travis always subtly favours his left side when fighting, even though both of his eyes are perfectly fine — he learnt the habit from Luke, whose vision in his right eye was never the same after his quest, and so naturally relied more on his left eye in a fight.

After delivering a strong blow, Clarisse often unconsciously wrings her right hand — because Luke's right hand was weaker than his left, and so every time he used it in a sword fight he'd wring his hand absentmindedly to alleviate the tiredness in that limb.

Percy has come a long way from that 12 year-old kid who didn't even know how to hold a sword properly, but whenever he's got his back to the wall, he always finds himself falling back on Luke's lessons during those first few weeks at Camp — and the method of disarming he finds himself using the most is Luke's signature move, the backhanded motion he used on Percy during their first sparring lesson.

As they grew older, the kids of Camp Half-Blood undoubtedly developed their own fighting styles outside of Luke's own. But the little habits they learnt from him when they were children never really went away. Do they remind each other of Luke sometimes, when they see each other fight? Do they see him in the absentedminded motions they do, the moves they choose to employ? Do they recognise those hints of Luke in their own fighting styles, and do they loathe seeing traces of Olympus' traitor in themselves, or do they hold onto those pieces of the man who used to be the older brother they adored?

You are a mosaic of everyone that has ever been in your life. And in this aspect of their lives, none of them can really escape Luke, even after he's already gone.

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i look forward to this every year

its that time of the year

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missed them

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fanart cr : viria

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day 17: f2u base ft THE SEVENN (pjo/hoo)

creds: @ karagultabasco

base below!!

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gimme like a week and ill write it

do yall think there is a universe where Jason was given to one direction instead of the wolves

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I still think we would've gotten Jason going absolutely feral and the rest of the seven going wtf???

Like he restrains himself so much without realising it, but when he loses it he's insane.

I fully think he should've been the same level of not stronger than Percy. Like his father is the king of the gods. He's been training for longer.

I would love a scene where he goes crazy and Percy and Piper are like "damn be was holding back even in Kansas-"

Like, a monster or someone they run into on gaea's side hurts one the seven bad/ has them captured and Jason just snaps.

Guy killed a titan, and by gods is he gonna end up showing everyone how gdgdg

Feral Jason my beloved.

Also, feral Jason in terms of Valgrace? Yes.

Leo just having queer panic over watching Jason just merk something and Jason's worried Leo's scared of him now but nope. He's just having a queer awakening fdgdg

He'll get back to you in 4-10 business days Jason don't worry.

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not to be dramatic but nico di angelo is actually the prettiest boy alive. like. canonically. i don’t make the rules. huge doe eyes, unfairly long lashes, soft mouth, dark curls that are always a little too long. the kind of boy you swear you’re immune to and then spend 45 minutes describing the exact shade of his eyes in your diary. the kind of pretty that ruins your life a little. you blink and suddenly you’re emotionally compromised and planning your wedding in a cemetery.

will solace is a trained medic and still gets starstruck every time like oh no. there he goes. the prettiest boy alive. again.

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hear me out: Connor and Mitchell but have their first proper interaction be going on a quest (3rd quester is Lou Ellen because I need more Lou Ellen + Hermes kids shenanigans content) to retrieve a special conch shell that requires the cunning and craftiness of a Hermes and Hecate kid and a connection to the sea that only an Aphrodite kid has. Percy offers them a few pointers on sailing but after that, they're on their own.

not sure what exactly the quest would entail but at one point they stop by a port town and Connor steals a bunch of pearls from an extractor. Mitchell reasonably panics a bit when he finds out because oh gods barely a day in and he already has to charmspeak someone into forgiving and forgetting them but Lou Ellen discovers that the extractor was doing detrimental damage to the sea life, so not being able to profit off of the pearls and harming the business is actually perfectly alright in her books.

Connor: perfectly alright, you say?

Lou Ellen: yeah, why allow some assholes to make money off of animal abuse?

Mitchell, seeing the glint in both of their eyes get brighter: ... sigh. Fine, I guess we can fit ruining their operation in today's itinerary.

They go haywire. Lou Ellen works the mist to give them more cover than usual, allowing Connor to have his fun completely messing with the extractors by setting up (relatively) harmless traps and stealing a little more with each passing second, while Mitchell distracts and deflects any concerns the extractors have

One of the extractors: oh, uh, yes! I can definitely show you where we keep the metal pliers, it's somewhere in the back. Let me just—wait, where the hell are my keys?

Mitchell, leaning in heavy with charmspeak: I think you left them near the back door, right? We can just go there now.

Exactor guy: ... yeah, of course. I always do that, easy access you know? Follow me.

And when they reach the door, Lou Ellen knocks him out and Connor unlocks it, a silver set of keys appearing in his hand seemingly out of nowhere. He winks when he catches Mitchell staring.

The rest of the quest follows pretty much the same: with one of them getting sidetracked and the others jumping in to "have a little fun", as Connor likes to put it. They eventually find the conch shell and return to camp, a little wounded but a whole lot closer.

As soon as Connor is let out of the infirmary, he dashes to the Hephaestas cabin. Mitchell is curious, but no one seems to know anything. Lou Ellen just cackles like a madman when she hears. "Ha, he was so antsy for most of the quest. Glad he's able to do something about it now."

Mitchell has no idea what on earth she's talking about, which takes him more off guard than he'd ever thought it would. Because he really believed that him and Connor had become close friends after everything they'd gone through. And surely, he would’ve known if Connor had something else going on. But apparently not. And Lou Ellen did.

And so what if it makes something burn in his chest? To know that Connor is keeping something from him when he thought they'd passed that hurdle long ago. To have that one conversation under the stars, afloat at sea, just drifting calmly and releasing their worries to the wind, that meant so much to him, not hold that same weight?

So what if he had feelings for Connor?

Mitchell doesn't sulk, because an Aphrodite kid will always retain most of their pride in the face of rejection, dammit. Connor seems to be—not avoiding him, but a little distant than he'd grown familiar with, and it hurts a bit. He can admit that.

It isn't until a few days later that there's a tentative tap on his shoulder after lunch and Mitchell turns around to see none other than Connor Stoll with a face so red, Mitchell is genuinely concerned he's going to pass out.

Mitchell: Connor? Are you okay? You look like you're going to explode or something.

Connor, fiddling with something in his pocket: ah ha ha, um, well. I have—something. For you.

Mitchell, completely taken aback: what? For me?

Connor: yeah, I— uh, I had to ask Nyssa for some help and then I had to go steal—I mean, borrow another one of yours because I wasn't sure how many to use and Nyssa wouldn't stop teasing me even though it had to fit perfectly—but t-the point is! This is for you.

And carefully, he pulls his hand out from his pocket and opens it. Laying gently in the center of his palm is a pearl bracelet. It's beautiful.

Mitchell: wait, are those...?

Connor, fingers tapping restlessly and somehow blushing harder than before: the pearls I stole on the first day? Yeah. I saw them on that boat when we were pulling up to the harbour and I just—

He pauses to let out a low, quiet breath, as though steeling himself.

Connor: I noticed your weren't wearing your favourite bracelet when we left for the quest and Lou Ellen told me that it took some damage from the lava wall the other day and you were heartbroken about it— so, I figured... well, you deserve something as beautiful as you.

And Mitchell is just speechless. His heart is pounding so loud and he melts on the spot because it's the sweetest thing he's ever heard and Connor is the sweetest person ever and gods, it was all for him?

Both of their hands are shaking as Connor helps Mitchell with the bracelet's clasp. And of course, it fits perfectly. Snug but not tight, a comfortable weight like it had been there all along.

Connor begins to pull away but Mitchell grabs his hand properly before he can. With hesitant maneuvering, Mitchell interlocks their fingers. The pearl bracelet subtlety reflects the light from the sun, making it look like it's glowing between them. Mitchell softly gazes at Connor, who tentatively matches his smile.

Mitchell: I love it, I really do. Thank you so much, Connor.

Connor: I'm, I'm really glad you do.

Mitchell: I want to take you somewhere. Follow me?

Connor: of course, anywhere.

So Mitchell leads Connor to his favourite spot near the strawberry fields, where there's enough shade under the sturdy tree but still bright and alive with the sun. Somewhere where they can once more lie down and hear the distant waves, free to drift off calmly and release their feelings and dreams, not just worries, to the winds, side by side.

They run into Lou Ellen on their way there. She takes one look at their intertwined hands, the new bracelet around Mitchell's wrist, and she lets out a triumphant whoop!

Lou Ellen: oh let's GO!!! Connor Stoll, bless your little heart, Cecil owes me 10 drachmas now!

Mitchell: huh, so I'm guessing you knew about this?

Lou Ellen: Mitchell, sweetheart. Every time you looked away, he had the worst case of lovesick puppy eyes I've ever seen. I thought it was bad at camp but this guy was clearly holding back. And I had to put up with Solangelo getting their shit together first-hand.

Connor: wh— I— wait. Did Cecil bet against me? Also...Solangelo?

Lou Ellen: Will and Nico, their last names. And Cecil didn't think you'd ever get the guts to properly talk to Mitchell after the quest, never mind enough to give him the bracelet. I, on the other hand, am familiar with what the sheer powers of long time pining can do. Also, having to stare into each other's eyes for like, 5 minutes while holding the conch shell pretty much sealed the deal.

Connor and Mitchell, now BOTH bright red:

Lou Ellen, snapping her fingers with a wild grin: hang on! Connor, Mitchell, conch shell... holy shit maybe this was fate.

And that, folks, is how Conchell came to be.

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i’ve been thinking about riordanverse demigods and their mommy issues.

annabeth, piper, alex fierro: my mom is an absent goddess who’s kind of a bitch to me and my loved ones

jason, thalia, hazel: my mom was a messed up person when she was alive

nico, leo, frank, magnus chase: my mom died years ago but she was a wonderful person and i miss her every day

percy jackson and will solace: MY MOM 🤱 is my BEST 🤩 FRIEND 👯 she is so LOVELY 🥰 and KIND 💕 and COOL 😎 and i’m having DINNER 🍽️ WITH HER ON SATURDAY 🥳💫🤪

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one of my favorite thoughts that comes with will going from cabin baby to head counselor is the insane 180 he must have had regarding his view on authority figures

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Nico doesn’t seek to uncover a new scientific field, originally. It is just that he does not understand it.

"Make better choices! Dumbass!"

"Whatever you say, Apollo Junior."

"Oh, shut up!"

This — Apollo Junior business.

There are similarities, sure. Here and there. Blond, blue-eyed, tall and strong. Many are. And of course the proclivity for drama and histrionics.

But the similarities end there, as far as Nico is concerned.

"You good?" Will calls, and Nico startles. "You're staring into space." He focuses his eyes and realizes Will is watching him out his peripherals, smiling when Nico meets his eyes.

“Do you have a photo of your mother?”

Will looks up again, eyebrows raised, glow finally fading from his hands and eyes. He holds a strip of bandage over a camper’s bicep, wrapping the roll around. “I have several," he says slowly. "Why?”

Nico squints at him.

“C’mere.”

Will hands the roll off to his patient, walking over. He stands hesitantly in front of Nico’s chair, shoulders pushed up, teeth worrying his lower lip.

Nico reaches out and tugs it free.

“You don’t look that much like your dad,” he murmurs, tilting Will’s head to the side. “You’ve got the — general blueprint, sure, but he’s all…angles.” He runs a finger over Will’s soft jaw. “You’re rounded.”

It's true. Will has more to his cheeks than his father does, baby fat he hasn't quite yet dropped. His skin is spattered with freckles on freckles, peeking through the burn scars, and his eyebrows and eyelashes are fully blond. His curls, even are nothing like so many campers claim — yes they are sunshiney, yes they are golden. The color matches the very shimmer of the sun.

But Will's curls are a mess. Constantly.

He can no more tame the mass on his head more than Chiron can control this camp. He can run a brush through, sure — not that he does — but every cowlick is at odds, and every curl chooses a different pattern. Like all the frazzle that lives in his head shoots out of his skull at random, like the exclamation points in a comic.

It's cute.

It's very un-Apollo.

"Um," manages Will, voice crackling like firewood. "Um, Nico?"

When Nico looks at him again he is glowing. Not with healing, this time, but — red. Sun-cow red, dwarf-star red.

Flustered.

Nico blinks in surprise.

"You're, um. Um! I gotta — work."

Will twitches a little in his hold, pulling back but stopping, and Nico gets the hint and releases him. He pulls back rapidly, then, haggard breath brushing across the fine hairs on Nico's fingers.

"I'm gonna," he says, or mumbles, picking at his cut up fingertips. "Uh, see you."

He runs, practically, to the back of the infirmary, disappearing behind a supply shelf. The girl he was treating throws her one working arm up in exasperation, scowling at the horrible bandage-wrapping she has attempted on herself.

"You," she says, glaring at Nico, "are always distracting him. I might as well bleed out if you're around!"

She stalks off, tossing the ruined bandage at his head. Nico slides off the nurse's station counter, nudging it with his foot. A sound escapes his throat, unbidden: a low, contemplating hum, wrapping around his tapping fingers.

He looks back towards the supply shelves and wonders.

———

He stretches it further three days later, when the weather spells are lifted to feed the strawberries.

Will delivers on the photographs.

There are, as he promised, several of them. Several dozen, really, tucked carefully in a weathered leather album, between dozens more of his siblings with them and not. He sits next to Nico on his bed, knees tucked against his chest, flipping between tracing the curve of his family's smile against the edge of his thumbnail and watching Nico from the corner of his eye.

"She's young," Nico observes, tapping at an older photo of Naomi. She is twenty-something, in the photo, early; she holds a squirming, chunky toddler Will in her lap and laughs so hard she's blurry with it.

The shape of their faces is identical down to the atoms.

"Yes," Will agrees. "She was young when she had me. Nineteen."

Nico raises his eyebrows. His own mother was young, he knows, but not for the time; Sally Jackson was young but at least old enough to drink. Will notices the look on his face and smiles a little wry, a little bitter.

"I know. I've had lots to say about it myself."

Nico nods, turning the page. This one is mostly Will's older, gone siblings -- he knows by the heaviness of Will's breathing before he can even puzzle out what the older polaroids tell him.

It is interesting, the way Will imitates. The way Lee Fletcher stands, the way Michael Yew rolls his eyes. The gentle hold of an older girl Nico doesn't recognize, poking a giggling, eight-year-old Will in the stomach. The exaggerated cheek kiss of a woman with hair down to her knees.

Will stares, now, at the photographs, images he captured, images he has memorized again and again over the years -- the blue of his eyes is almost gray in the shadows of the rainclouds, in the darkened fairy lights of the quiet cabin seven. There is a distance to them, a sadness Nico so rarely gets to see. It is pretty, on him. Makes him look heavy, makes him look full. So often he is cheery and empty, or whatever his campers, his patients need; it is relieving to see him soft and wanting for a moment, to see the love rising and bubbling in his face, to see it crashing like waves in the gentle shake of his large hands. In the rainy softness he looks like moonlight, reflective.

"They'd be proud of you, you know."

Will smiles slightly. There is no light in his eyes, for once, and Nico cannot resist running his thumb under them. Will shivers.

"You think so?"

"How could they not be?" He tilts Will's head, slightly, until those grayed blue eyes lock squarely on his, wide and hopeful. "I am."

He says it slowly, carefully, spending time on the separation between the vowels. Like he hoped there comes the heat, seeping right through to his roughened palms. He removes them quickly, unwilling to miss it, and to his sudden wave of satisfaction there it is: the redness in his cheeks, glowing like June strawberries. His looks away quickly, biting the corner of his cheek.

"I'm -- uh."

He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. It pops back into his eyes immediately, so Nico tugs it gently back, tucking it behind the bobby pin by his temple. He watches his lips part as he inhales more than he hears the sharpness of it.

"...Thank you, Nico."

Nico watches the quiet set to his face, the small, pleased smile. Tiny. He watches the color that clings to his cheeks even as he flips through the rest of the photos, even as he is absorbed in distant memories. He watches. He watches Will watch him, out of the corners of his eyes, through the curls of his hair. Nico exhales, low and contemplating.

"Of course."

———

Will is a deeply affectionate person.

It is in the mornings when he grabs Austin's grouchy, scowling face, pressing deafening and exaggerating smooches all over until he cracks and laughs. It is in the gentle hand on Kayla's shoulder on the range, waving wildly at the missed target until she nods, eyes bright again, face narrowed in determination along her next shot. It is in the gentle hip-check of a frantic, barking Clarisse out of the way, murmuring assurances as he patches a slash through Chris's bicep. It is in the sunshine-bright smiles pointed at everyone he sees, at the thanks, darlin'! at busy passing nymphs and tricking Chiron into giving up his paperwork. It is in both hands occupied by giggling, awestruck children and his shoulders the new hot seat, it is in the shrieking laugh bubbling out of Lou Ellen's mouth as he twirls her to music playing only in his head, it is in his holler of gravity's increasing on me!! as he crushes Cecil to the ground. It is in the arm he slings over Nico's shoulders, constantly, the parting mwah pressed to his temple, the brush of his guitar-callused fingertips across cheekbones, knuckles, shoulders and crooked elbows.

It is everywhere. It is constant. It is, almost, forgettable.

It is confounding.

Nico tests it, again. He waits for the dusk of campfire, on an evening cold enough even Will is in tight blue jeans, and he says, in front of everybody:

“You look good.”

The tips of his own ears are red, hidden by his hair, and his voice is low enough to have several onlookers wolf whistle.

But the flames don’t burst into being across Will’s nose.

Instead he grins, wide and grandiose, cocks his hip high, and says, in the worst exaggeration of his soft, subtle accent Nico has ever heard:

“Aw, don’t I?”

And Nico thinks:

Hm.

He watches, and every day is groundhog day; every day Will is grinning teeth and kiss-pursed lips and hearty palms and gentle, careful fingers. Every morning he greets Nico with his lips pressed to his fingers and blown into the air, and he is shameless, and when there is teasing he responds with knuckles dug into ribs and wide-mouthed grins and come here, brat, you're next. Every other sentence ends in darlin' or dearest or if he's talking to Nico than a million others he pulls from a hat, Zombie Boy and Death Breath and sweetcheeks and princess. He doesn't even think about them. Nico will blink at every new one and say, no, and he will laugh, low and snorting, and double down. And Drew will roll her eyes and mutter about Southern charm or rather his lack of it and can you maybe be a kicked puppy somewhere away from me, please and he will roll his eyes. And he will walk Nico to his door every night and say, bright as daylight, night, Neeks, love you! and bound away across the common, shrieking as the harpies descend on his chronically late ass.

And Nico thinks:

Hm.

But there will be moments. In corners, or in twilight: when it is someone else's turn to sing, when someone else strokes the little ones' hair as they blink themselves awake to drowsy flames, when the campfire smoke is sweet and soft and wraps around the two of them, on the blanket Will has laid out. And Will will yawn, head drooping, halfway asleep, too out of it to notice Nico's creeping hand. And Nico will touch, barely, the edge of his pinky to the bent knuckle of Will's, tucked away between them, shrouded in shadow.

And under the dancing light of flickering embers, Will's face will burn.

And Nico thinks:

Ah.

———

Nico decides to consult an expert.

"Morning," mumbles Annabeth, bumping into him as she stumbles her way to breakfast.

Nico follows quickly, sitting down next to her and staring until she sets down her book. When she does not, he puts a very careful finger on the spine, tugging down until she blinks.

"Oh, Nico! Hey. Good morning."

Nico hides a small smile. "Morning," he greets back. "I have a Question."

"Capital Q question," Annabeth observes, taking a bite of her cereal. She glances over at her half-closed book. Nico cautiously slides it away, and she glances back. "Shoot."

"How do I test a theory?"

"Uh, hypothesis, usually," she answers. "Unless your theory is: Percy is deathly afraid of centipedes, in which case I will go ahead and confirm that theory for you."

"No, that's not the theory." Nico blinks. "Thank you, though."

"Mhm. Reparations, etc etc."

"Right. Uh, my theory is secret."

Annabeth stares at him. Nico stares back. Annabeth does not blink. Nico squirms.

"A gay theory," she surmises.

"Shut up," Nico confirms, red-faced.

Annabeth grins. "Make a list of true/false statements you can prove or disprove. Test them. After testing, form a conclusion." She waves her spoon emphatically. A drop of milk lands on Nico's eyelid, and she smiles sheepishly. "Boom. Questions gained. Will Solace's Affections: conquered."

"Shut up," he says, again. But then adds, belatedly: "Thank you."

He flees to the exit horn of her cackling, before anyone can overhear them.

———

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