#nico di angelo angst

[mediumgayitalian]

Blue, blue, blue eyes, wet and red-rimmed. White knuckles clenched around worn canvas. Salty cheeks and bitten-bruised lips.

“I’m running away.”

Echoes in a too-large room, quiet breathing in stale air. Freezing toes on marble floor. Struggling lamplight, gaunt shadows.

“Gimme a minute to pack a bag.”

———

“Shh,” Nico hisses, clamping a hand over Will’s mouth to muffle a shriek. A too-warm hand clutches his hip, scrambling for balance. The rickety wooden lattice creaks under their weight.

The freeze, for one, two, three seconds. Nico strains to hear, watching the crystal-clear, freshly-polished Jalousie window.

No light.

They let out their breath at the same time, Will’s exhale making Nico’s cold hands tingle. At Will’s glare, he removes his hand, wrapping it back around the rung.

“Be more careful, you clumsy fuck.”

“I’m trying!”

To his credit, he really is. He checks and double checks before putting his full weight on the lopsided strips of wood only meant to hold up vines. He doesn’t let go of the rung above him until his feet are firmly planted, and he doesn’t stray far enough from Nico that he couldn’t catch him. He knows the drill.

And, yet.

(Truly, Nico has no idea how he climbed up by himself.)

Thankfully, they make it to the soft lawn in one piece. Will stumbles into a hydrangea bush the second he lets go of the lattice. Nico lands with much more grace, snickering.

“This house hates me,” he whispers, pouting. There are several blue flower petals tangled in his hair; Nico decides not to tell him. “Like, actively.”

“You and me both.”

They sneak quickly across the lawn once Will’s upright again, booking it to Nico’s Jeep. Will takes their bags, tossing them in the back, then slides behind the massive, creepy gargoyle-thing that sits between the garage doors as Nico opens the driver’s door as quietly as physically possible. Once he’s seated, he glances over at Will, waiting for his signal — hand held up in wait, four seconds, five, six — then a rapid shooing motion, eyes trained at the security camera. Fast as he can, Nico shifts into neutral without starting the car, craning his neck to watch out the back window as he peels out of the driveway and onto the street. Once safely behind the massive pine tree that marks the edge of the property, he parks, turning the car on and wincing at the noise.

Two minutes later, Will comes barrelling down the driveway, nearly tripping over untied shoelaces.

“I fucked up, they totally saw me, go go go!”

Nico doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s in drive and racing down the empty street before Will has the door closed.

For a while, he lets their heart rates settle back into something normal. The headlights are dim, no streetlights to make anything brighter, and he squints through the windshield, tense. If a deer jumps out, they’re fucked.

“So,” he says, relaxing as they turn onto familiarly torn-up roads. No street lights here, either, but he knows the woods on either side of the road are a farce. Hardly more than a copse of trees — nothing but farmland for hundreds of acres. No risk of death by Cervidae, thank God. “Running away?”

“There’s a rest stop an hour east,” Will says instead of answering, face buried in a map. “We can sleep there and keep going in the morning.”

Go where, Nico wants to ask, but he knows better than that. There’s a tenseness to Will’s jaw, and something transparently pleading in his eyes.

“Okay,” he finally relents. Will’s obvious relief eases his discomfort. “You gotta direct me, though. And, I swear to God, if you get us lost again, Solace —”

And Will laughs, finally, and it’s small and stilted and there are still tears drying on his cheeks, but it’s real, and stars shine brighter, brighter, brighter.

The two hours to the rest stop pass quickly. Nico is used to long drives, and thankfully he’d filled up a couple days ago, so all he worries about is staying awake and watching for cops. There shouldn’t be any, really, because he’s been the only car on this road the entire time, but Nico isn’t going to chance it. Not again. (He doesn’t have Piper to talk them out of trouble, this time, although Will could possibly manage.) 

(Maybe.) 

(Well, never say never.)

“How prepared are we to run away?”

Will is quiet for several long, telling moments.

“Well,” he says finally, and Nico sighs. “I think there’s still blankets and pillows in the trunk from last time.”

“Christ alive, William.”

“It’s June! We’re – sheltered! We’ll be fine.”

“Christ alive, William.”

“Oh, can it.”

He bites his tongue, grinning. He doesn’t actually mind – it is June, and they have blankets, and their certainly not going to succumb to the elements in the Jeep. Will, too, is like a goddamn space heater; if anything, they’ll wake up in the morning with the windows fogged. 

“I suppose I’ll manage,” he says, watching with interest as a flash of bare skin as Will leans over the seat, sweatshirt riding up his arched back as he digs around for the blankets. He turns back right before Will does, huffing dramatically. “Since there are no other options.”

He fully expects the pillow to the face.

“You’re a dickhead.”

“Dickhead with a license and a vehicle, Sunny Boy, so maybe count your blessings.”

“...Lou Ellen has a car. So there.”

Nico snorts, thinking of the piece of shit Bug that broke down for the twelfth time this year in her driveway, earlier this week. Likely story.

“And, yet.”

“And, yet,” Will agrees, voice significantly softer. He’s fully burrowed in his blanket when Nico looks over; seat reclined as far as it’ll go so he can curl up, knees to chest, all six two of him compressed to something small, delicate. The pillow smushes half his face, and the blanket is pulled up to his nose, and Nico swallows, roughly, because his eyes are bright in the moonlight, and his hair fans, frizzy and damp, slightly, out onto the pillow, and Nico doesn’t need to be a poet to compare his freckled forehead to the starry sky. There is a fragility in him, one he keeps firmly locked inside the deepest parts of him, and as Nico watches it he can see it spilling, pouring, bleeding out of him. In the car, in the dark, in front of Nico. “Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight,” Nico says hoarsely. 

By the time he gets the courage to look at Will again, his eyes are already closed, breaths slow and even.

———

“Neeks. Neeks. Nico. Hey, Thanatos. Anubis. Gerard Way. I got more, man, I made a list –”

“Will you stop fucking poking me,” Nico groans, peeking out from his blankets to glare at his aggressor. He regrets it immediately, hissing as the sun burns his retinae.

He can feel Will smiling. “Up and at ‘em, Sunshine. It’s road trip time.” He pauses. “And, also, I’m starving. I packed granola bars for us but I ate them all already. Sorry.”

“Fucker.” Reluctantly, he tugs the blanket fully off, sitting upright and stretching his arms above his head. His back cracks satisfyingly. “Don’t suppose you know where the nearest Dunkin’ is, then.”

“Uh, no.” He looks back to find Will’s eyes snapping back to his, face flushed. “We’re just outside of Arcadia, though? So. I’m. Sure there’s one –”

“Are you good?” Nico asks, squinting. “It’s too early for you to be a weirdo, Will, it’s only –” He checks his phone – “Oh, you motherfucker, it’s like six thirty in the morning! Why the hell are we awake?”

“Road trip!” he says. His face, no longer all screwed up and blotchy, returns to its usual blinding beam. 

Great. Now there are two things trying to blind him.

“C’mon, you dork,” Will says again, laughing. He tugs the blanket from Nico’s grip, tossing it haphazardly in the back and pestering him until he scowls, biting out a “Fine, you prick, Jesus,” and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

He’s still not all the way awake, but he dutifully sits up, buckling his seat belt and starting the car. “Nav,” he mutters, tuning out Will’s chatter.

He loves the guy, but, fuck. It’s six thirty in the goddamned morning. He hasn’t seen six thirty in the morning in a long ass fucking time – even before he graduated at the end of May, he was late to homeroom every single day, without fail. Six thirty is an absurd time to be awake. 

“Left here, straight for a bit, and it’ll be on the corner.”

“You’re pointing to the right,” Nico says, patiently, not bothering to fight the smirk cropping up on his face. "Am I turning right?"

This, he’s used to.

“I meant right,” Will sulks. “...I said right in my brain.”

“Sure,” says Nico generously, grin widening.

“Fuck off.”

“What? You try very hard, Will. I’m very proud of you.”

“Choke.”

“Few more years, and you’ll be caught up to the kindergarteners.”

“That’s it, di Angelo –”

He laughs, batting away Will’s smacking hands. “Hey! Hey! No hitting the driver, do you want me to crash –”

By the time Will is done trying to beat him up, Nico has long spotted the sad-looking Dunkin’ Donuts, pulling into the empty parking lot and peering inside.

“Is it even open?” he asks, frowning. The lights are on, but it looks…more soulless than usual, somehow.

“Yep,” Will chirps, clicking off his seatbelt. “The chain opens at five. There's a location in Omaha that's open at 4:30, but as far as their policy goes, five is go time.”

“Nerd.”

“It’s okay, Nico. I’ll stay friends with you even if you get dumber than you already are.”

He grins wickedly. “Least I know my lefts and rights.”

He cackles when Will slams the door, stomping to the Dunkin’s entrance. He’s not really mad – he gets quiet when he gets mad – but it’s good to know that he’s won. (Not that it’s hard. Will is witty, sure, and wicked smart, but his buttons are just a smidge too easy to press. Great fun for Nico, who has raging ADHD and could not resist the allure of a shiny red button if it was going to blow up the Earth with him on it.)

Will is nowhere to be found when Nico gets inside, so he assumes he’s in the washroom and walks up to the counter to make their order. A bored girl a couple years younger than him flips a magazine behind the register, nodding as he comes up.

“I’ll have a black coffee and a…” He squints. “God. A butter pecan swirl signature iced latte.”

“With whipped cream and caramel drizzle?”

Nico sighs, resisting the urge to physically wince. “Yes.”

“Anything else?” says the girl, smile pulling at her lips. “I can put sugar in a cup to go, if you want.”

“He’d probably take that, too,” he agrees snorting. “But nah. Just a couple breakfast sandwiches, if you don’t mind.”

“‘Course.”

She rings him up, letting him know it’s gonna take a minute as the machines boot up. He wanders while he waits, curiously observing a wall of what appears to be scrawled pencil graffiti. Nothing talented, but he has to fight the urge to walk out to the payphone he saw outside and call a few of the numbers, just to see what would happen. 

“Hey,” Will says, startling him. He’s changed his shirt and tied his hair back, looking a million times better than last night. Nico finds himself relieved, shoulders slumping imperceptibly.

“Hey.”

“D’you order for us?”

“Got you your morning milkshake monstrosity, don’t worry.”

Will grins. “Drinking black coffee doesn’t make you cool.”

“It does, actually. At any given time I am forty-seven percent cooler than you. More, if you’re wearing cargo shorts.” He glances down. “It’s a forty-nine percent day, apparently.”

“Go wash your face,” Will laughs, shoving him. “I’ll get the food, then we can look at the map.”

He doesn’t take nearly as long as Will did. He brushes his teeth, splashes water on his face, decides his hair looks awesome the way it is – of course he didn’t forget a brush, why would he be a big enough dumbass to forget a brush and also more than one pair of socks – and walks back out. He finds Will tucked in a booth in a corner, chewing on a pink straw, eyeing their giant map intently.

“So,” he says as Nico approaches, handing him his coffee, “I did some math.”

Nico notices a napkin scrawled with ink that he could not read even if he wasn’t dyslexic.

“Geek.”

Will chucks his balled up straw wrapper at him. “We can go five hours-ish on a full tank of gas, and you’re a bit above a half tank, so we got maybe three hours before we need to stop.” He circles a little dot about a quarter way into the state, letters too small for Nico to read. “And since going anywhere near Orlando in the summer is asking to stick us in bumper-to-bumper traffic, that puts us in Anthony.”

“I did not know there was a town named Anthony,” Nico says sagely. “That’s a shit name for a town, if I’m being honest.”

WIll shrugs. “Welcome to Florida. Anyways. Want me to drive? You drove last night.”

“Barely,” Nico dismisses, waving his hand. He likes driving – it’s just scattered enough that he doesn’t get antsy. It’s being a passenger that kills him, although he’s sure they’ll switch on the way back so he can rest. “I’ll drive.”

“‘Kay.”

Will turns his attention back to the map, tapping his pen against the table in between bites of his breakfast sandwich. Every so often he returns to the napkin, scribbling something down and making little hums of concentration. 

Nico begins to notice the route he’s drawing extends a ways past state lines.

“So,” he says carefully, eyes trained on his best friend. “Running away.”

Will tenses, again, at the mention of it, although this time he looks more stubborn than lost. Good.

“Road trip,” he corrects. “It’s our last summer, Nico. I turn eighteen in a couple months, and then…” He trails off. Nico waits out the silence, seven seconds, eight, nine. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? One last huzzah, road trip around the nation, or whatever?”

“Did you happen to tell your mother about this road trip?”

Will shrugs. “I left a note.”

Nico hums. “Sounds an awful lot like running away. I would know. I’ve been picked up by social services in three separate states.”

“Road trip,” Will corrects again, stubborn set to his brow. 

Nico decides to let it go for now.

“Road trip,” he agrees. Will looks at him gratefully. “Where to?”

“That defeats the point of a road trip.” He rolls up the map, looking at Nico like it’s obvious. “Duh. Journey, not the destination, et cetera, et cetera.”

Privately, Nico bets that by tomorrow, Will be be restless and guilty and they will be on their way home. Outwardly, he says, “You have seen a truly disgusting amount of movies,” and Will laughs, and Nico follows him to the Jeep, and knows, as he always does, that he will follow him regardless; across the world, across the country, even back to Shit Fuck, Florida.

———

next chapter

[pinkcheessee]

at least we have eachother

alright the size difference is not accurate because i was referencing my reference to much to the point i forgot theyre 2 years apart if tbat makes sense

[gaiageopjo]

Prompt; Nico can shadow travel, and Will discovers he can light travel through a moment of panic and it takes so much out of him and leaves him very messed up, Nico cares for him and comforts him after

Triggers; vomit, brief violence, mentions of blood, panicking

Word count: 2.7k

Breakfast had been quiet. Most of the campers were gone due to the academic year starting up again, and the ones that stayed were still sleeping in. Will knew that wouldn’t last long though, Chiron would get the head counselors of each cabin to go bang in the doors, waking any remaining sleeping campers. But Will was one of the last children of Apollo at camp and would stay that way until the school year ends, unless they got any new campers. But until then, he basked in the rare quietness of the dining pavilion.

Nico was up early for once, able to enjoy his meal at his boyfriend's table thanks to the extra space now available. Austin had left a few days prior, the majority of the other siblings had left over a week ago, and the newest, youngest member of the Apollo cabin (who Will was growing extremely fond and protective of), Simon, had left that morning to start 3rd grade. So currently, it was just Will and Kayla. Only one of which was partaking in breakfast, much to Will’s displeasure, but that could be a sibling scolding moment for another time.

Everything was working out for once. There were no quests, camp was safe, the infirmary was slow. Will finally felt like he had a chance to catch his breath.

Will’s hand found its way to Nico's and ran a thumb across the back of his hand absentmindedly.

It truly was a perfect morning. Nice and warm, the sun was out but there was still an occasional cloud.

“How’s your breakfast?” Will asked, just wanting to spark a conversation.

Nico glanced up, “It’s camp breakfast for sure.” He spoke with a shrug, “I think my oatmeal is fermented.” Will knew it was supposed to be a joke but unusually the dark color of Nico’s oatmeal made the statement quite possible.

“Maybe you should bring that up to Mr. D, he might be able to-” Will was cut off by a large thump. Much like someone, or something was taking a step and tripping. Will glanced around, no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, they weren’t alarmed. Even Mr. D and Chiron were still chatting away at the head table.

Will cleared his throat, “Anyways, I think Mr. D could-” another thump, thump. A fork fell off one of the tables making a soft clanging sound as it hit the floor.

This time the head table fell quiet. Chiron looked up, brows knitted together.

A daughter of Hephaestus was sprinting towards the pavilion, Nico made some quip about “someone being excited for the most important meal of the day”, but Will didn’t laugh, because as the girl got closer, the fear etching her face became more evident and clear.

Will stood, half expecting to be told about some rock slide or something near the coast and a large list of causalities or injuries that would take over his day, but instead he heard her scream,

“HYDRA! HYDRA IN THE CAMP, BY THE WOODS!”

“A Hydra? Inside the barrier?” Will heard Chiron say. Looking around, he saw all the campers that had gotten up early for breakfast rushing to get equipment and armor.

He looked up at Nico, “Go time?” Nico asked,

“I knew a quiet peaceful breakfast was too good to be true.” Will sighed.

Nico had grabbed his sword and Will grabbed a bow and quiver, sure archery wasn’t his strong suit, but he much perfected it to close range combat.

Even the long range combat wasn’t his first choice, but by the time the duo and a few other campers arrived at the edge of the forest, Will saw Kayla already acting as a field medic. She was quickly tending to cuts and burns, probably because whoever was trying to deal with this Hydra clearly didn’t know which head to cut off and now there were 12, all thrashing about, lighting trees on fire and trampling anything in its path.

Will felt a sense of proudness bloom in his chest as he watched Kayla work, but he couldn’t let the feeling distract him.

Will and Nico made eye contact, and knew exactly what to do.

Nico made a B-line for the Hydra’s tail while Will hung back and loaded his first arrow. He made eye contact with the Hydra, assuming his bow directly at its main head, before shifting at the last second and shooting the arrow above the Hydra rather than at it. The Hydra seemed to slow for a moment, confused as to why Will didn’t try to kill it right then, but the arrow soared above the Hydra’s head, completely missing, which is good because that’s exactly what Will was aiming for.

The arrow, which just so happens to be a trick arrow, exploded with a bright display of colors, much like a firework.

The monster stumbled back in confusion, and Nico took this as his opportunity to jump onto its back with his running start, following its spine to help decipher which head was the middle head.

The Hydra thrashed, feeling the weight of a demigod on its back, and Will shot another arrow. This time, it was a regular arrow that lodged itself in the cheekbone of one of the outer heads. He quickly knocked another arrow and shot it again, now in the knee.

Nico was now holding onto the back of the neck attached to the central head, the monster stumbled back a few yards into a clearing, trying to get Nico to fall, but in response, he took his sword and severed the head at the base of the neck. As it fell to the ground, Nico landed on both feet and his eyes caught the movement of a figure trying to hide behind a tree.

“Who’s there?” He called keeping his sword drawn, as the figure, now identified as a young camper, stumbled out, toppling over.

Across the small clearing, which was now covered in golden monster dust and blood, Will saw no sign of any more monsters, except for one… kind of.

Nico has his back turned, away from where Will was currently positioned. He was crouching, helping a younger camper stand. Will recognized them as a son of Hermes, around the age of 11. His name was James. He was new to camp this summer but didn't have any family to go home to, so much like Nico and Will, he was a year-rounder. He must've been caught in the crossfires of the fight.

He didn't look injured, just shaken up, and Nico was in the same boat apart from a small cut across his left arm he must’ve got while climbing the Hydra.

Behind them, the final disembodied central Hydra head was still in the process of disintegrating, but since it hadn’t, it still had the ability to light fires.

Will could see the smoke coming from the Hydra’s gill like structure along its jaw and cheek as it prepared to torch his boyfriend and the young camper.

His feet felt heavy, as if they were rooted into the ground. His heart sank. He didn't know what he could do.

He could yell, but they were just a little too far for that to seem feasible. He could use his supersonic whistle to disorient the Hydra, but without giving Nico or James a heads up, he could permanently damage their hearing as well. He could also use the bow to hopefully distract the Hydra so Nico could get out of there while it finished disintegrating, which would've been Will’s plan A, if he had any more arrows.

So it left only one option, try to get to them first.

He dropped the bow and let the quiver fall off his shoulder. He broke out into a sprint,

“Will! What are you-”

It was Kayla, “I have to try!” He said, hoping she would get the hint.

Will’s feet hit the ground hard, he had never put so much effort into getting somewhere this fast.

The smoke from the Hydra darkened, it opened its horrendous jaw, wide, tilting itself back just a bit to really center Nico and James in its line of fire.

Will was so close, he could feel his heart racing and a pit of anxiety growing and growing in his stomach. His ears were ringing with adrenaline.

Nico looked up, giving Will a small smile,

“Nico, look out!” Will cried.

Nico turned around, almost face to face with the Hydra head. He seemed frozen, barely moving except for how he grabbed James by the shoulders and pushed his back against Nico’s own chest, turning and bracing for the worst.

He was just barely out of arms reach when Will saw the first spark come from the Hydra’s mouth. He could almost feel the cotton of Nico’s shirt brushing his fingertips when he lunged forward wrapping his arms around both Nico and the young camper, James.

In slow motion, Will could feel himself connect with the two others, and see flames start to ignite to his right. He felt a tug in the pit of his stomach, a tug similar to what he feels when using his powers to glow, just in a new location and with much more intensity than normal.

In his desperation, Will leaned into the feeling, and was quickly enveloped in a blinding white light. It was warm, almost unpleasantly so, and he felt as though every molecule in his body was being displaced then put back together again. His limbs felt like he just got finished with a 24 hour non-stop work out, or at least what he thought were his limbs, because right now, he didn’t have much perception of anything. It was disorienting, nauseating, and utterly exhausting.

The blinding light was gone in a flash. Will couldn’t tell if it took hours or was over in the blink of an eye. He expected to hit the grass next to the Hydra head and then feel the blistering heat pass above them, but it never happened, and instead of grass, they skidded and rolled across rough and dry dirt. The two fell out of Will’s arms and Will stopped rolling and settled on his right side.

“Will?” A voice called, and he was pushed to lay flat on his back.

Will’s mouth was insanely dry, and his stomach flipped. Stars danced across his vision, even with his eyes shut as tightly as they were.

“Will, oh my gods, did you just- oh my gods, Will.” The voice next to him panicked.

He felt his chest heaving, every breath he took was painful, each wheeze dragged through his lungs like sandpaper.

“Oh my gods! Go! Run! Oh my gods- Kayla! Go get Kayla!” The voice yelled, hopefully to someone else because Will was in no shape to go and get someone right now. He wasn’t sure who was talking to him right now, but the fear that laced the voice above him made his stomach churn. He tried with all his might to sit up, or open his eyes, and he was able to get one cracked but all he saw was a blurry mess of colors, and his eyelids felt as if they had thousands of tons of bricks weighing them down, so they closed almost as soon as they opened.

He felt cold hands envelop his cheeks, “Stay still, it’s ok now. We’re safe. I got you, I got you,” Will tried to move his arms, to put his hands on the ones on his face, but his limbs felt heavier than lead.

“You saved us. Gods, Will, you never cease to amaze me.” The voice sounded so genuine, Will wished he could place who it belonged to, so he could thank them later.

“Just keep breathing, Sunshine. Oh my gods I can’t believe you did that. You’re so stupid.”

The thumb on his cheek left rubbed back and forth in a comforting gesture, though in Will’s mind it was acting mainly as a distraction from the sheer amount of pain his body was in.

He needed someone to do something, he truly felt like he was about to die.

“Help-” Will managed to croak out, using way more strength than he anticipated.

The figure above him made a pained sound, “I know, I know, trust me, I know.”

Will forced himself to open his eyes again, squinting in the bright light of the sun as the figure above him slowly came into focus,

“Nico,” He said,

“Hi,” Nico’s face became more detailed, his eyes looked red and puffy, and tear tracks lined his cheeks.

“Nico,” Will said again, this time more gently.

“No, don’t make this about me right now. Gods, Will, you’ve never scared me like that before.” Nico hiccupped.

Will studied Nico’s face for a second, he could hear the sound of rapidly approaching feet, his stomach churned and he felt a rising sensation in his throat.

“Throw up,” Will muttered, Nico quickly got the message and helped Will sit.

Will was hunched over, palms pressed into the dirt, heaving up every little thing that was in his stomach as Nico rubbed his back.

“Nico,” Will started, for the third time after he finished throwing up, feeling a little more life return to his body, “How do you do that so often.” He managed to say,

Nico let out a wet laugh and helped Will lay back down, “How did you manage to shadow travel- or, I guess light travel, for the first time, and manage to take two people with you? All the way across camp?” Nico questioned, brushing Will’s curly golden locks out of his face. They were sticking to his forehead, he didn’t realize until now but he was absolutely drenched in sweat.

Another person dropped to their knees next to him,

“Will, are you ok?” She asked, frantically, hands hovering over him like she was afraid touching him would make it worse.

“Kayla,” he smiled, breathing out,

“He- he light traveled, three people, including himself, all the way across camp. That was his first time as far as I know, it technically wasn’t far, but the load of taking three people? It really really didn’t look good.” Nico filled in, voice shaking slightly.

“That’s not really in any textbooks or the infirmary training,” Kayla took a deep breath, “If anyone knows shadow travel, or light travel, or whatever, it’s you.” There was a beat of silence, “What does he need?”

Nico thought for a moment, “Nectar, to help repair any internal damages and help him get his strength back up. Cold rags, one for his forehead and one for the back of his neck, he probably has a pretty high fever right now. Also snacks, his blood sugar is definitely way too low after that.”

And with that, Kayla got to work.

“You really scared me.” Nico said, “Did you know you could do that?”

Will was now safely in a cot in the infirmary, much to his incoherent protest.

“Did I know I could scare you or light travel?" Will joked lightly,

"You know what I mean. Did you know you had that power? Were you afraid to tell me? I thought we were telling each other everything now."

"I mean, no. I didn't know I had that power. I don’t even know how to replicate it. Maybe it was a one time thing, like because of the situation. But, I thought you shadow travel all the time, was it really that bad?” Will asked,

“No no, it’s not the traveling part that scared me. I’m talking about afterwards.” Nico climbed into the cot with Will, their faces only centimeters apart.

“When we landed, seeing you tumble so limply, and then not respond. And when I touched you, you felt so…” Nico paused and took a deep breath, “I could feel your life force slipping away. And there was nothing I could do.”

“I’m ok now though, Neeks. I’m ok, you’re ok, James is ok. I’m still here, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Will finished, and Nico snuggled closer into his chest.

[sph-1]

I love Nico to bits but here's some angst for the soul

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't fond of the dark at first. To be honest, he was terrified of it.

The dark reminded him of dreary shelters that he, his sister, and his mama had to hide in while sounds of planes, bombs, and war echoed all around them. It reminded him of sketchy alleys that he and his sister took shelter in when monsters hunted them down. It reminded him of the gray, cold walls of Westover, the last place he and his sister bore a somewhat semblance of peace. The last place him and Bianca were together.

(Camp Half-blood doesn't count, they were no longer Nico and Bianca when they went to camp. It was just Nico from there.)

It reminded him of that place. It reminded him of falling, of skies bathed in blood, of rivers screaming mercy and roaring with flames, of slowly suffocating while holding on a thin thread of hope that he'll be saved, it reminded him of pain.

(He can still hear it, feel it, taste it, the ultimate terror he felt when he was surrounded in a place designed to kill. Something inside him broke when he was at the Pit, a new ugly darkness bloomed like spiderlilys and started to grow in him every single day.)

So no, just because he was the son of the god of the Underworld, the embodiment of shadows and the dead, doesn't mean he enjoys the dark.

But he learned to embrace it, as morbid and fucked up as it sounds. He was already seen as dark by everyone around him, he was just merely playing the role that he was grown accustomed to through out the years.

He was only accepting the sole thing that was with him and never left him ever since. The only thing constant in his short (or was it long?) life. The entity that made his very soul its home, the one that wrapped him, seared into his body like a second skin. Afterall, he was the son of Hades, the Ghost King. Darkness is, and would always be, bound to him.

[cabin-7-bitch]

intro :D

hey there, my name is star!

im a demigirl, so I go by she/they pronouns!

i am currently active in pjo, magnus chase, keeper of the lost cities, voltron, and inheritance games fandom

i am in, but am not currently active in the owl house, the dragon prince, heartstopper, harry potter, and miraculous ladybug fandom

a few of my hobbies are: writing fanfics, reading, color guard and being chaotic

my godly parent is apollo 💛

my otp is solangelo :)

and i take fic requests! ill do solangelo, fierrochase, percabeth, jercy, x Reader, etc

i do fluff, angst, lemon and smut

so feel free to drop a prompt or request in my asks!!

[sleepy-bi666]

Hurtcember day 2

"I'm fine," was two words Will should've never believed.

Sitting next to the burning up Nico in the infirmary, Will felt a twinge of guilt for believing that lie.

Pushing his guilt aside for now, he wipes away the sweat off Nico's brow with a damp washcloth.

"You'll be okay," Will whispers.

[nargle-simp-art]

Cupid Scene Art

[theslay3d]

Nico Bianca heartwarming family fanfic 💕

Nico di angelo x Bianca di angelo family fic

Warnings: none

Word count: 515

A/N PEARLL BESTIE thank you for requesting PJO. Hope you guys enjoy!

Nico was sneaking out of his dorm. He wanted some cookies and hoped that if he snuck into the school's kitchen there would be some. He made it out of his dorm and was sneaking along the school's dark hallway which was surprisingly easy for him. 

He had to go near the girls hallway to get to the kitchen. When he went near Bianca's door she opened like she was waiting for him. His eyes widened and he froze in front of the door.

“Nico” she raised an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip. “Bianca” He smiled up at her with puppy dog eyes hoping to not get in trouble with her. She grabbed his arm and drug him into her room. 

“Why are you up? Are you ok?” She fussed over him to make sure he was fine. Even though she knew he was sneaking to do something he was still her brother. 

“Yes I'm fine, I just wanted cookies. How did you know I would be by your door?” He flopped down on her bed and stared at the little stars she put on the roof. 

“I just knew you must be doing something” 

“What's that supposed to mean? Are you accusing me of sneaking out and causing problems every night?” Before she could reply he continued “Because if so you're wrong i only sneak out to see you” 

She raised her eyebrow again “You mean you sneak out to make me play Mythomagic with you” 

“That too” 

She laughed and said “You said something about cookies yeah?”. He nodded 

“We can sneak into the kitchen this time only alright?” 

Nicos eyes grew and he quickly nodded and got up from the bed. 

She opened the door for them and shut it behind her. “Remember to be quiet” she whispered and they walked along the hallway to the kitchen.

They finally made it to the kitchen. They stayed near the door for a few minutes making sure they couldn't hear anything inside. 

Bianca went first and opened the door. She shut it behind both of them and walked into the room. 

There was a table in the middle of the room for some reason but Nico didn't question it and quickly went searching in the cabinets for the cookies they gave for lunch. 

Bianca searched too but tried to be quiet unlike Nico. He finally found two bags of the cookies and whisper yelled “Yes!” 

“Shh!” Bianca said but smiled at how happy he looked.

“What?? I whispered didn't i?” 

She laughed and they both moved towards the table to sit. They sat on opposite sides. Nico slid over one bag while he opened his own. They both started eating when Nico took out one of his Mythomagic figurines and started playing with it. 

Bianca smiled at him. It was times like these that made her grateful to have a brother. They ate the rest of the cookies and went back to their dorms happy. 

A few days later there would be a new student named Grover who joined the school. 

[sailorwritesstuff]

La buona domanda se sono abbastanza buoni. [Solangelo]

I saw a tiktok that made me want to write angst about a ship I haven't thought about in nearly 4 years.

Cw: death.

The strange thing about being able to feel when people around you are dying and their souls had become property of the afterlife is that when you are dying you feel yourself fading away from existence differently than others. He'd been in many near death experiences before but this one was different. There was no tricking his why out, or praying to the gods for rescue he knew that as soon as he got the feeling. A shiver down his back that made him nearly paralyzed with fear. For Him it felt like he was suddenly in too different places at once like his grip on reality was slipping and suddenly he couldn't focus on the battle anymore.

"NICO!" he hears his name called by a duet of voices as his legs give way beneath him. one is deep and commanding, his father. The other like a melody of music to his ears.

"Will..." He manages out as tears fall to his eyes.

"Nico. You're ok sunshine I'm here. I'm.going to make it go away I promise." His hands are shaking and frantic as he fumbles his way through first aid prep. Nico fought the urge to joke to his boyfriend: 'your hands are shaking, they never shake. ha! you care about me.' but he couldn't find the energy.

"I'm dying."

"you're not going to-" He started but Will knew better than to tell the ghost king of death. "Not if you let me heal you just hang on, please you can't leave me."

"il mio girasole. I'm dying."

"Stop. Please."

".... Will." His pale hand reached up to lay on his boyfriend's face weakly although his own eyes were blurred with tears he ignored them in favor of wiping away Wills. "I don't know if I'm a good person."

"I do." The Young medic continued trying his hardest to heal his lover with no ambrosia or nectar in sight. "I know. You're such a good person."

"How do I know, girasole?" Nico whispered and to that Will was quiet, both of them knew it wouldn't really matter if Nico had been a hero or not. His path in the underworld had been carved the moment he had been born.

"Do... you think I'll see her again." He smiled a bit a genuine smile that not many people could say they'd seen on Nico di Angelo's face before.

"I know she's waiting for you in the next life."

"What if I don't want a next life?" Nico continued slowly. "What if I want to wait for you?"

"Dont... don't feel like you have to wait for me. I'll be with you in every life you live." Will's shaking hands began to see that this was a futile attempt of healing.

"Will?" Nico knew that'd be the last time he said that name with this body.

"Yeah?"

"Make me wait. A really long time." The dark haired boy's hand fell from his boyfriend's face to his side. It was only then Will stopped working. It was only then Will let out a loud sob from his chest as he hugged the love of his life close.

"I... promise."

[demigods-posts]

okay, but we know nico is obsessed with mythomagic. but has no one to discuss it with because bianca isn't particularly interested. and then here comes annabeth who's been equally obsessed with the game since she was seven. and these two bonds instantaneously. and over the years, he grows to see annabeth as a friend, not super close but someone he knows he can trust and rely on. and then he realizes they have a crush on the same guy. and he wants a reason, any reason, every reason, to hate this girl who made him feel so seen and validated and known. but he just can't.

[mediumgayitalian]

previous chapter

———

The sunlight disorients him.

Usually, he wakes to a blaring alarm. If he has no alarm set, nothing planned for the day, he wakes when he cannot physically stand the taste of his own breath anymore, stumbling out of bed and ambling like a zombie for the nearest toothbrush. (On rare, rare occasions, he wakes to humming – low, drawling, lilting, floating around his darkened room, brightening it. He dreams about those mornings.)

He cannot remember the last time he woke to gentle sun.

Stretching, he takes a minute to catalogue the space as he wakes up, noticing the light curtains over wide windows, small TV tucked in between two double beds, and a desk, larger than he would have expected, taking up the far right corner.

Will is nowhere to be found.

“Jogging, mebbe,” Nico mumbles to himself; tiny, forgotten accent slipping out before he can stop it. Gingerly, he peels off the blankets and pads to the bathroom. Will’s blue-capped toothbrush sits next to the sink, quelling Nico’s ridiculous anxiety that Will, actually, has never been here at all, and Nico dreamed this whole thing up. He smiles slightly at the dorky stickers plastered all over the handle, colour mostly worn away, and the watch forgotten next to the soap dispenser. 

He hears a heavy door open and shut, pausing to make out quiet footsteps over the running water. Quickly rinsing the suds off his face, he towels off and steps back out into the hotel room, watching his friend.

Will has his back turned, hunched over the desk. He wears a hoodie, blue with big white clouds all over it – his favourite – and, of course, horrible cargo shorts. Nico counts seven pockets, and that’s just what he can see from the back. There is a book shoved in two of them, keys hanging out of a third, and an apple bulging from the pocket near his hip.

“Morning.”

Will jumps, whirling around. 

“You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry,” Nico says, not sorry. He’s grinning. “Were you out for a run?”

“I was out for a run hours ago, yes. It’s, like, ten-thirty, dude. You’ve been sleeping for eight hundred years.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They’ve had this argument more times than he can physically count, he refuses to have it again when he doesn’t have the upper hand. He’ll bring it up again when Will’s sleepy again at nine o’clock. “Where were you?”

Will steps to the side, revealing three separate heaping plates of food on the desk, piled high with eggs, toast, a muffin, bacon, and, of course, an entire plate devoted to fruit. Nico descends upon it like a swarm of seagulls upon a terrorized child’s ice cream cone – with fury, insatiable hunger, and endless hubris. He makes sure to ignore the fruit.

Five minutes later, he’s satiated enough to turn a percentage of his attention away from the food. He spins the desk chair halfway to face Will, instead, curled up on the bed with one knee pulled to his chest, watching him fondly.

“How many times did you almost drop this on the way up?” he asks around a mouthful of bacon.

Will’s smile drops, eyes narrowing. “Shut up.”

“Four floors, and there’s a good chance you took the stairs to keep the elevators for ‘someone who needs them more’, so –”

“I hate you.”

“– I’m guessing one time per flight of stairs? Oh, wait, there are three plates, definitely more –”

“I’m never doing anything nice for you ever again.”

“– and you have a new band-aid on your knee, so you definitely tripped and dropped it at least once.” He pops the last of the bacon in his mouth, smiling wickedly. “Twice? Three times? If you don’t tell me I’m going to assume six and move on.”

Will’s glare intensifies. He mumbles something.

“Hm?”

He mumbles again. Nico doesn’t even pretend not to be delighted. He knows the smile on his face is wide enough to make him look deranged, he simply doesn’t care. Opportunities to press Will’s buttons this beautiful do not show up every day. He must treasure them.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“Hadtogoback.”

“Gonna have to speak up, bud.”

“I had to go back!” Will explodes, hands thrown in the air. “I fuckin’ – I dropped the stupid plates, the first time, so I had to fuckin’ – clean it up and – two stupid trips, you jerk, you better appreciate this –”

Nico almost bites through his lip. “You dropped it?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Will says defensively. “I was concentrating really hard but –”

Nico loses it.

“– my shoe got caught on the last step and I didn’t have any hands to catch myself.” He scowls. “Three people saw.”

He can’t breathe. There are genuine, actual tears streaming down his face, burn in his eyes almost as bad as the burn in his lungs, the ache in his belly. He wraps his shaking arms around himself in an attempt to hold himself together, laughing so hard he feels like his muscles might actually rip themselves off his bones. Every time he tries to calm down, he pictures Will, in his dorky flip-flops, egg in his hair, half a muffin crushed on his cheek, bright red, sprawled on the ground, food everywhere. If he could think of literally anything else, he’d be worried about his heart straight-up failing. 

“I hate you. Actually.”

“I’m – oh my God,” he wheezes. He manages, finally, to get an actual breath in, desperately trying to think of literally anything else to calm down. Fucking – bumper to bumper traffic. Bedbugs. His father’s frowning face. That always works. “Holy shit, Will.”

“I should’ve just woken your ungrateful ass up.”

“Probably.” He flicks a grape at him, smiling. Will catches it in his mouth, rolling his eyes but smiling back. “Glad you didn’t.”

“Whatever.”

Nico finishes the rest of his breakfast in relative peace, managing to turn away if his mouth threatens to betray the tentative truce they’ve negotiated. He even eats one entire peach when Will starts pelting him with tiny hotel soap bottles and listing side effects of cholesterol-induced heart disease.

The second he finishes the last bite, Will orders him to clear off the desk. Nico mutters about bossiness and how Will is most definitely not in charge of him, doing as he asks. When he comes back – took him a hot second to shove the paper plates into a small enough ball to fit in the garbage can – Will has dragged the desk over to the bed, sitting criss-cross next to it, examining one of the many papers he has covering it.

“So,” he says, gesturing next to him. Nico dutifully sits, peering at the various maps and markings. “We gotta plan part two.”

“Didn’t we already do this?” Nico asks. “Back at Dunkin’s?”

“Not this far. I wanted to Preserve the Spontaneous Road Trip Spirit.” Nico can hear the capitalization.

“So, planning, then.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Nico smiles. “Brief me, captain.”

Will jumps right in, pointing and gesturing and every once and a while catching Nico’s eye to ask, right? Sound good?

Nico just watches him. 

The midday sun shines directly in his face, catching and reflecting on his pale eyelashes, making his eyes go squinty. His excitement is obvious, in his chattering, his waving hands, his bouncing curls; every part of him moving. Even his stupid cargo shorts look endearing, every other pocket bulging, filled absentmindedly with slips of paper or pens or bandaids or granola bars. Nico watches him and feels he might burst.

“You’re not listening,” Will accuses.

Nico jumps back into focus. “Yes I am.”

“What’d I just say?”

“‘You’re not listening’.”

WIll cracks a smile. “You’re not funny.”

“Run over that again,” Nico answers, and grins devilishly when Will does. Not funny his ass.

He listens, though, through Will’s second explanation. It’s not too hard – Will’s always been organised. The wide penciled circle around their location in Atlanta, outlining the area they can drive before their next fuel stop, is pretty wide. But the options are limited, in Nico’s opinion – while he’s sure there is indeed something to do in South Carolina, there’s nothing to do for him, specifically. He’s cool with skipping it.

“There is one place we can go,” Will says. His voice has gone oddly quiet, and after at minute he glances over at Nico, like he’s waiting for his permission.

“Your road trip, dude,” he murmurs, nudging their shoulders together. “I’ll even go to South Carolina if you want to, but no promises that I won’t complain about it.”

That, thankfully, draws a huff out of him, some of the tenseness fading from his frame. 

“South Carolina is beautiful, you know.”

“Says the boy who is currently visiting his third state ever.”

“...Touché.” He taps his pencil on the map, pink eraser thunking somewhere in the Bermuda triangle. “I was thinking – we could try Nashville? Music Row, or Broadway?”

Nico groans. “Oh, of course you wanna go hang out with all the goddamn hillbillies, you fuckin’ country boy –”

“It’s good music!”

Nico groans louder. Secretly, though, he watches his friend out of the corner of his eye, watches as his shoulders slump, relieved, and he knows he’ll spend as long as he needs in lasso-slingin’ Tennessee, following Will in and out of – barns and ranches and cowboy boot shops, probably. Are saloons still a thing?

He has a feeling that there is more to Will’s hesitance than a fear about being judged for his Marty Robbins obsession. If Tennessee is where he’s gonna get answers – well. He’ll brave the goddamn sea of cowboy hats.

A knock at the door startles them both. A voice calls hesitantly through the door: “Mr. di Angelo?”

“Wrong door, probably,” Will whispers after a moment. He looks to Nico. “Right?”

There’s another knock. “Mr. di Angelo?” 

“Yeah.” Nico rolls of the bed, landing on the floor with a grunt. “Another room with a Mr. di Angelo.”

He creeps towards the door, keeping low as if whoever’s outside can see him. After a moment, the bed creaks, and Will’s quiet footsteps pad behind him. 

“You think it’s room service?” Will whispers, plastered to the opposite side of the door. Even ducking, his hair brushes the edge of the peephole. 

Nico shoves his head down, pinching him when he squawks. “Be quiet, tall person, I need to see.”

“Get a stepstool then, jerk! Stop using my neck as a lever!”

“What part of be quiet are you missing! God!”

“Mr. di Angelo, please open the door.”

The voice on the other side of the door sounds amused. Face flaming, Nico shoves Will somewhere behind him, still bitching, and swings open the door. 

“Good afternoon,” says the man in the hallway. He’s dressed very smartly in a tailored black suit, nametag reading Eric. “Are you Mr. di Angelo?”

Nico clears his throat, trying to stand taller. “That’s me.”

“Good. I’m with Hotel Administration. We received a fax for you this morning?” He hands Nico a manilla folder. “First page says confidential, so we put it in the envelope. We tried to call this morning but didn’t get any response.”

Vaguely, Nico remembers a ringing phone. He also remembers yanking the plug out of the wall in sleep-deprived rage.

Oops.

Ignoring Will’s snickering, Nico thanks the man, closing the door and sitting on the nearest bed. Will scooches over to make room for him, tossing and catching a pillow. Nico leans back against the headboard, crossing his leg over Will’s.

“What’s in the envelope?”

“Checking now.”

The envelope is the cheap kind you get in a box of fifty; speckled brown, thin, machine-cut. It’s not sealed and so Nico flips it open easily, sliding out a small stack of papers. The first is a huge CONFIDENTIAL, printed diagonally across otherwise blank paper. The second is a bank statement. 

Nico shoots upright.

“What? Nico, what’s –”

“Mr. di Angelo, we regret to lose your business,’” Nico recites in a shaking voice, “‘but appreciate your time with us and wish you all the best with your future banking.’”

Frantically, he scans the document again. Successful cancellation. Expedited closure date. Transferred affairs to –

– parent account. 

“–co? Nico? Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

The air pushes out of Nico’s lungs like a crushed balloon. “Fuck.”

“Nico.” Warm hands press on his bloodless cheeks, fingers sliding in his hair. “Nico, look at me.”

He gasps. Will squeezes gently, eyes dark and stern and kind, thumbs callus-rough and dragging across his cheekbones.

“Good. Again. There you go, you got it.” 

Nico grabs his wrists when he tries to pull away. Will takes the hint, sliding his hands under Nico’s free one and knocking their shoulders together.

“What’s wrong, Nico?” 

Instead of answering, Nico sets the papers on the bed between them. Will squints, and for a second Nico prays that he’s wrong, that he’s mixed up the words. That it doesn’t say what it knows it does.

Then Will inhales, quick and sharp, and the hope is dashed.

“Your card…”

“Next page,” Nico says softly.

Niccolò,

The papers rustle as Will flips them, and this one he takes much longer to read. 

Vorrei sapere che ho fermato un caso di frode alla radice.

After a minute, he holds it out, shaking his head.

Un criminale ha rubato la tua carta di credito, e l’ha usata per comprare una stanza d’albergo in Georgia. Qualche spacciatore, non ci sono dubbi.

“It’s a little formal, I can’t –”

Ho disattivato la carta, naturalmente. Ti darò quella nuova appena ti vedrò.

Nico takes the scanned letter. Vaguely, he registers Will’s hands brushing up his arms as they move two wrap around his face again, this time forcing his jaw to unclench.

“Power play,” Nico snarls. His clenched fingers wrinkle the pulpy paper.  “He knows exactly where I am. If he wanted to drag me home, he could drag me by the fucking –”

“But instead he’s forcing you to call him,” Will says softly. “Oh, Nico, I’m so sorry.”

The hands drop from his face again. It knocks the cloudiness right out of Nico’s head, and he snaps up, frowning at Will’s crooking fingers, the bitten lips. He won’t meet Nico’s eyes.

“Why are you sorry my father’s being a haughty jackass who suddenly cares what I do with my time?”

“And his money.” Will picks up the bank statement, reading over it again, and again, like it might change. Like Nico’s credit card will magically become un-cancelled, like they will suddenly become un-stranded. “This whole stupid thing is my fault. I never should have dragged you into it, Neeks, I’m so –”

“If you apologise again I’m going to push you off the bed.”

“– sorry.” 

“Will.” Nico snatches back the statement, shaking his head. He waits until blue eyes meet his then smiles, as reassuringly as he can with such a pit in his stomach. “My father is –” He sighs. “It’s not about the money. You know he doesn’t care about the money.”

Will shrugs. It’s true – Nico has made dumber purchases. When he was twelve, he bought a trampoline, just to see if his father would say anything. Fifteen, marble statue. Sixteen, a car.

Then he stopped trying.

“How far can we go, on the gas we have? How many miles?”

Will shrugs. “Three and a half hours? Four, if we push it?”

“And on a full tank of gas?”

“Almost six.”

“And then we’re stuck.”

“And then we’re stuck, yeah. Unless you got Greyhound money hidden somewhere.”

Nico sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s what he wants, Will. He doesn’t care about the – about the stupid money. He wants me. He wants me to ask, rather, to pick up a phone and beg him to come get us ‘cause we have no other options. He wants me to admit I need his help.”

The first time he ran away, he’d had to avoid every cop car. He knew he was being looked for, he saw his own face plastered on news screens. It had only been a matter of time. The second attempt was – easier. Much easier. He’d hardly even had to hide his face. By the third time, he’d waited a week, waited almost a month, before he was cold and hungry and walked to the nearest social services building himself. The car ride home, the humiliation so potent he could taste the bitterness of it, had made the cold, rainy nights with nothing but the same ratty hoodie he’d worn when he left worth it. He swore he’d never subject himself to that again. 

And yet here he is. 

Out of options. 

“You know what? No.” In a swift, unstoppable movement, Will snatches the stack of papers, ripping them into four pieces faster than Nico can reach an arm out to stop him. “We’re not doing this.”

“Will – what –”

He throws himself off the bed, stomping over to his backpack. A folded pair of socks goes flying over his shoulder, a book hits the ground with a heavy thunk. His muttering grows louder, cursing interspersed between every word.

“What are you –”

“We are not dealing with this right now.” With a frustrated finally, Will yanks a bag of something out of his backpack, stomping back towards the bed. He throws a Ziploc bag onto the duvet, and it bounces once, twice, three times before splitting open and spilling quarters everywhere.

“What the hell is –”

“You already payed for the room, right?”

Nico snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

“And it’s Saturday.”

“I – it is, yeah.”

“Not a business day.”

“No.”

“Well.” Will nods. “Bank’s closed. Hotel can’t process anything, and they have no reason to suspect your card, which worked just fine last night, is gonna bounce. We’ve got a day of breathing room, at least, and I don’t want to think about it.”

He holds up a hand when Nico starts to argue, grim set to his mouth giving way to something a little sharper, a little more dangerous. 

“We might not be old enough to gamble, but when you’re in Atlanta, you do as the Atlantians do.” He meets Nico’s eye, grinning. “You still any good Street Fighters?”

———

next chapter

[pinkcheessee]

nico di angelo ☠️🪦

[jasonsjavelin]

right person, not enough time.

(not a ship. hopefully, this was obvious.)

[jztr-77]

Dont you just hate it when you just finished off a monster looking cryptic af then a ray of sunshine accidentally walked by

[angee1011]

I love pjo fandom because we are watching this show and people are like “wow these kids’ parents sure do suck”

And we are just like “✨yes they do✨ isn’t it great ✨”

[willthespy]

some more Solangelo x Adventure Time doodles for whoever asked… (evil laughter)