#willsolacebirthdayweek

[nicostolemybones]

Transitioning to Manhood

Will felt a strange nostalgia looking at the box his mother had sent him, although it wasn’t a bittersweet feeling. It was a twisting feeling in his gut, a horrible reminder that his mom was clearing the house of all reminders of her child, trying to get the child she thought she remembered to snap out of a phase and return home. He picked up a knitted hat, barely the size of his fist- he’d been born premature, and his grandmother had knitted the tiny pink hat as soon as she received news of his birth. It was a pale pastel pink, almost white, a pearly quality to the colour, but years of collecting damp in a cardboard box had tinged it a dusty, damp grey. There were photographs, and Will was bombarded with pigtails and frilly dresses and patent shoes buckled with bows. “I think I would have cried if I’d been put in that monstrosity,” Lou-Ellen said softly, pointing at the photograph Will was currently holding, featuring him in a pink frilly dress for a Church wedding, holding a basket of bright pink and red rose petals, bawling his eyes out and lifting up the hem of the skirt to wipe his face. He looked about five.

The next picture showed the same dress covered in mud, Will grinning like a maniac chasing the vicar’s daughter with a worm in his hands and one shoe missing, hair a tangled mess. Cecil snorted and laughed. “Please tell me you put that worm down the back of her dress!”

“Nah, she picked up a bigger worm and chased me with it instead. We were friends in kindergarten,” Will replied, pointing out a photograph of him in pink flowery dungarees sitting opposite the girl, who was wearing the same dungarees in blue. “We made mud pies and put them in her father’s shoes in that picture,” Will said sadly, “we got into trouble for boyish behaviour and making a mess.” Will unceremoniously shoved the photographs into the bottom of the box, taking a few deep breaths.

“Are you okay, Will,” Lou-Ellen asked gently, placing her hand on his back and rubbing small circles.

“Yeah,” Will sighed, staring emptily into the box before picking out his birth certificate and staring at it. “I don’t know,” Will amended, and Cecil took the certificate out of his hands.

“We should burn this,” Cecil announced, “it’s useless. If you end up needing it for anything, you can just get it re-printed at the register office. Although you might wanna make some changes to it first. Until you can do that legally, Connor and Travis owe me a massive favour, if you’d like.” Will let out a small laugh, burying his face in his hands.

“My whole childhood is in this box,” Will said quietly, “and my mom’s throwing away all of her favourite memories of me, and I can’t bring myself to look at them.”

“Hey,” Lou-Elllen began gently, “we’ll make new memories, new photographs.These aren’t your memories, they’re your mom’s ideal childhood for you, it’s all the parts she didn’t like taken out and the select few moments she did pruned carefully and displayed to be her image of perfection. You don’t have to keep any of this, because that’s not how your childhood felt to you. They aren’t pictures of you, they’re pictures of the child your mom wanted everybody to see, they aren’t pictures that truly represent your childhood. You aren’t obliged to hold onto somebody else's image of you.”

“We can burn all of it later, mate,” Cecil offered, “just us if you want. And Nico too, of course. Kayla and Austin too maybe, if they aren’t busy.”

“Yeah,” Will sighed, “shoot it with a burning arrow or something.”

“That’s the spirit,” Cecil grinned mischievously, taking the box from Will, “I’ll go take this to my cabin and get my siblings to thoroughly vandalise everything so before you burn it you can have a laugh.”

“Thanks,” Will laughed, and Lou-Ellen pulled him into her shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, dude,” Cecil smiled, “and you, my bi-hexual girlfriend!” He kissed Lou-Ellen’s cheek and jogged off.

“Do you wanna go find Nico?”

“He’s got training now,” Will replied, “but I wanna go talk to Clarisse, do you know where I could find her?”

“I saw her heading to her cabin before I came here,” Lou-Ellen replied, “I’m gonna go work on creating some more sigils, okay?” She kissed Will’s cheek before heading towards her cabin, and Will set out to find Clarisse. She wasn’t in her cabin, or in the armory- Will found her sitting outside the currently empty Aphrodite cabin, holding a pale green and cream chiffon scarf in her hands. Will sat beside her, bumping her shoulder.

“It was Silena’s,” Clarisse said gently, “her favourite hijab. She used to cover it with pins and I’d put flowers through the pins. After we burned her shroud, we uh… her parents invited me to her funeral, at the Masjid. The mosque, that is.”

“It’s beautiful,” Will said, “you should keep it. She’d want you to have it.”

“Yeah,” Clarisse sighed, “don’t tell anyone I went soft, you hear me, Solace?”

“Message received and understood,” Will smiled, and Clarisse punched him lightly in the arm.

“She taught me how to put on makeup,” Clarisse admitted, “she used to do it real subtle, so nobody would know. She’d contour my whole face and she’d put on neutral eye shadows and clear mascara, cherry chapstick muted with matte powder.”

“I never noticed you wearing makeup,” Will replied.

“That’s because that was the point. She made it look completely natural. I’m not exactly… feminine.”

“But she taught you how you could be butch and still be pretty, right?”

“Exactly,” Clarisse replied, “she helped me to pass.”

“A true ally,” Will smiled, resting his head on her shoulder, “how have you been recovering from surgery?”

“I’ve had worse pain,” Clarisse smiled, “I’m still getting used to the extra weight on my chest, but Chris likes them just as much as I do, I think.” Will chuckled lightly, and Clarisse put her arm around him. “Anyway, you look like shit, Solace, what happened?”

“My mom,” Will replied dejectedly, “she sent a box of stuff from my childhood. I’m gonna burn it all later. Cecil’s idea.”

“I’ll be right there with you,” Clarisse said, squeezing his shoulder roughly, “providing I can take a baseball bat to everything first.”

“You can rip the birth certificate before I shoot everything with a burning arrow” Will offered, and Clarisse chuckled lightly.

“That’s my boy,” Clarisse grinned, punching his arm lightly.

“The thing is… I don’t hate my childhood,” Will began honestly. “I didn’t always know I was trans, I didn’t always hate myself, I just couldn’t understand that weird out of place feeling, you know? I didn’t know why things made me uncomfortable. I only started figuring it out when I came to camp… and now, it hurts to look at all the pictures, because they… they don’t feel like I’m looking at photographs of me, and the more I tell myself that’s me, the more I can’t stand to look at them, because I look so female. But my childhood wasn’t a sad one, I… I was loved once, I used to pretend I had nightmares so my mom would give me these butter cookies with warm milk. She knew I was usually faking it, but she didn’t care as long as I smiled.”

“Tell me more,” Clarisse probed gently, before wrapping Silena’s scarf around his shoulders when she noticed a breeze, keeping her arm around his shoulder.

“She didn’t always have a lot of time for me, with the singing and all,” Will began, “but when she did have time for me, we always did something. She used to take me to my grandma’s farm a lot. The chickens didn’t like me much, but there was this baby calf my grandma let me name. Which was a terrible decision, I called it Dustbin Grass,” Will announced with a small laugh. Clarisse snorted, and Will continued. “Anyway, the calf used to come in through the back door and lay down in the middle of the sitting room, and I’d curl up next to the calf. We had a height chart on the wall, and I’d always compare my height with the calf every week. And other days, my mom would take me on day trips. Sometimes it was just to the local park or play area, we’d feed the ducks and sit in the sun with a picnic. I’d always go on the slide, although some days it was so hot the metal burned and I’d start crying. My mom always used to wrap me up in a warm hug and she’d tell me that it was all okay.”

“That sounds nice,” Clarisse said sincerely, and Will continued to share his memories.

“I wasn’t so good with all the school stuff. When I was a kid, I hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD yet, or dyslexia, but I still struggled. I was behind everybody in the class on my reading and writing and my handwriting was always terrible. I used to get frustrated and walk out a lot. And after break time, I always had a hard time calming down, so I used to be super bouncy and I’d need something to fidget with. And of course, I was a kid, so the louder the better. I’d get into trouble a lot and get sent out of class. I used to cry because I thought I was dumb, but my mom always told me I was the smartest. She’d take me on nature walks, and she’d point out different trees and birds and insects and I’d tell her what they were. And at one point, I could identify native birds by their calls. My mom made me feel smart, and I didn’t feel smart again until I came to camp.”

“How the fuck did they think you were dumb?”

“Classism, sexism, and ableism. Anyway, my mom and I used to have pamper weekends, where we’d just sit out in the garden with bowls of cold water for our feet and face masks, and we’d watch the clouds if there were any. Mom never used to put enough sunscreen on herself and she used to end up looking like a lobster. We’d talk about how our weeks had been, and about my mom’s record deals and tours. She mainly toured the South, she didn’t usually go far out from Texas, but I’ve always been travel sick and I can’t really handle anything over half an hour, so it was always better to leave me at home with my grandma sometimes. My mom and I lived in the city in Austin, but my grandma lived on a ranch. She used to make me cookies all the time and she’d tell me stories of mom’s childhood and her childhood. She’d tell me how lucky I was. My grandma was a lesbian, but things when she were young were… well, worse than they are today, so… she married a man and had kids and buried who she was. She always told me that I couldn’t help who I was, and that if ever I figured myself out and I wasn’t straight, then it was okay and she’d love me just the same. The vicar used to sit and have tea with my grandma every day, because he had a gay son and he wanted her advise on how to support him.”

“Your gran is a legend,” Clarisse smiled, “is she still with us or…”

“I wish I knew,” Will sighed sadly, “grandpa died when I was six and the year after, my nan met a woman, and she moved away and my mom refused to let me have her address or contact her. Everyone always assumes my mom is kind and loving because I have such happy childhood memories. But when you have a child, if you can’t love your child unconditionally, then you never loved them at all. I grew up, knowing, just knowing… that one day, I’d do or say something and my mom would know I was bisexual and my mom wouldn’t love me anymore. Knowing that your own mother will stop loving you, for the very thing that gets you beat up in the playground, for the very thing that gets you harassed, knowing that your own mother believes with all of her heart that her child deserves to burn in hellfire and brimstone for eternity just for being attracted to somebody… from a young age I knew that my mother’s love was conditional. For years, I knew that I didn’t meet the conditions for my mother’s love. And then I stopped going home because I was scared and I wasn’t ready to be abandoned by the same woman who promised unconditional love. And then I came out as trans to her and… she sends me the box. And it’s not just a box to remind me of my childhood, it’s all her favourite memories. It’s the drawings she stuck to the fridge, the photos she showed guests, the things she was most proud of me for. It’s her way of telling me that she hates me so much that those memories are worthless to her. Happy childhoods are empty gestures when a parent’s love is conditional. And I have to face biphobia and transphobia every day of my life, but it’s worse knowing I don’t have a home. My home is a summer camp. I’m alone. If the woman who swore to love me unconditionally, swore by her bible to love me and protect me and fulfil her god given role as a parent, can cast me aside like I’m disgusting, then how am I ever meant to feel anything but wrong? How am I meant to convince myself I’m worthy of love? I can’t even use public restrooms without fearing for my safety, how am I meant to feel safe enough to trust anybody?”

“Hey,” Clarisse began, squeezing Will’s shoulder, “you’re never alone. No matter what, I’ve got your back. I’ll kick a transphobes teeth, you know I will. We have to stick together, we can’t let the community be divided, okay? We’ll look out for each other. You’re not unloved. I love you. My mom is your mom now, okay? Actually no, I’m your mom now, kiddo. And you have the best friends you could ask for, okay? Lou-Ellen can and will hex anybody who tries to put you down. Cecil’s always got your back, he pranked that Athena kid real good, remember? And you have Nico. You’re dating the Son of Hades. He can and will turn anyone into a ghost if they hurt you. That boy loves you, okay? Your self-worth is not defined by your mother’s prejudice. Nico’s friends- Jason, Percy, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Piper, Reyna, Leo- they’re all allies we can trust. You’re not a boy anymore, Solace, you’re a man now. You’re making your own way in a world where the odds are stacked against you. You just gotta keep going. People will hate you no matter what you do. So surround yourself with allies, keep going no matter how bleak, stay strong, and when you can’t stay strong, use your support network. We’ll both survive if we stick together. If you feel scared to go outside, come and find me. We’ll keep each other safe. And remember. You’re perfect, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Aphrodite would want you to respect yourself and love yourself. Your dad would want you to shine and spread light amongst the hate, to rise no matter how many times you’re pushed down. My dad would want you to fight back and never stop fighting for your rights, our rights, for what you believe in. And I’m sure most of the other gods support you too.”

“Damn girl, now I know why you’re in charge of motivational battle speeches,” Will smiled, and Clarisse ruffled his hair.

“Good boy. Now, you’re gonna get back to that infirmary, and carry on as normal, okay? And then we’re gonna burn your birth certificate and all the other stuff.”

“I had my T shot this morning,” Will stated with a small smile, “after a few months, people no longer misgender me when they hear my voice and for once in my life, I like how I sound. I feel like me. My dysphoria is… it’s so much less intense than it used to be. I feel safer in public, I feel confident enough to speak as loud as I want without fearing judgment or misgendering or violence.”

“You’re getting a bit of a fluffy mustache too there, Solace,” Clarisse teased light-heartedly, and Will laughed happily. “I’ve gotta go teach the Aphrodite girls some self-defence classes, you have to prepare for the influx of inevitable injuries because the Ares cabin and the Athena cabin are sparring in the arena.”

Will went about the rest of his day with his head held high. For once, he felt proud of who he was, of the man he’d become, of the way he hadn’t let the hate he’d heard turn him hateful, how he helped people, how he tried his best to make every camper feel like they had a safe space, a home. He never wanted anybody to feel the way he had for such a long time. He prided himself on his kindness, and he vowed never to lose it.

So later that day, the camp stood around a pit of flames at the beach, all turned out to show their solidarity bar a few. Will wore his flag as a cape, and everybody cheered when Clarisse marched in still in her armour from the day, with a ‘fuck the cis-tem’ jacket, and ripped up Will’s birth certificate. Will smiled as he threw the photographs into the flames, one by one, his friends all cheering and clapping. He watched every painful reminder, every perfect image of his mother’s ideal child- graffitied on with funny mustaches and devil horns on his mom, courtesy of the Hermes cabin- of conditional love and rejection, go up in flames. For once, Will wasn’t defined by his past, but rather by his future, one surrounded by allies and friends from all walks of life. People of many religions and races, sexualities, and genders. And even better, he received a loving kiss from his boyfriend in front of the crowd. For once, he didn’t look back.

@solangeloweek day 2, childhood/back story building

[nicostolemybones]

Kissing You Feels Like Home

When Will had finally gotten a boyfriend, he was mildly amused to figure out that having a boyfriend was synonymous with having a cat. They barge into your office without permission, leave hair all over your favourite hoodies, sleep all day, cause havoc at night, eat all your food, cuddle you when you’re busy, knock stuff off the table, and try to bite if you touch them when they aren’t feeling cuddly. Will was attempting to decipher his messy doctor’s scrawl on a patient’s notes when a loud clatter drew his attention away. He turned around to find Nico di Angelo had pushed his desk tidy and all his pens off the table, and was slowly pushing Will’s notebooks towards the edge. Will sighed in defeat, picking up all of his pens and replacing them on the desk. Nico seemed rather smug, grinning when Will stepped closer, resting his hands either side of the desk where Nico was sitting. “You’re like a cat, di Angelo,” Will stated, to which Nico shrugged and leaned forwards, capturing Will’s lips in a slow and intoxicating kiss. Will groaned softly, resting his forehead against Nico’s. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Death Boy.”

“Then stop working and kiss me before you die, then,” Nico replied, pulling Will closer by his collar. Will figured he’d have to be completely riddled with brain parasites to refuse- kissing Nico was his favourite thing to do. Will tangled a hand in Nico’s hair, twirling the soft curls at the nape of his neck around his fingers, glad to be rewarded with an involuntary shiver from his cat-like boyfriend, and leaned in to capture Nico’s bottom lip between his own. Will was a gentle kisser, but Nico always kissed like he had everything to lose, hard and desperate and full of emotion. Will liked to let Nico take the lead when kissing, because every kiss felt like the world was on fire and Will was all that mattered. It felt like Nico was pouring every unspoken ‘I love you’ into the way he kissed, like he was letting Will know that he felt so strongly for him that he didn’t know how to put it in words, and Will knew that he was Nico’s freedom, his greatest act of rebellion and bravery, the one person Nico could not stand to lose, the one person Nico felt comfortable enough with to allow himself to indulge in his own desires and needs. Will could always feel the fear in Nico’s kisses from the slight trembling that overwhelmed the first few kisses, the fear of judgment, of murder, of pink triangles, and Will could always feel the defiance take over, he could always feel Nico relax and melt into the kisses, rebelling against every last word he’d ever heard to put him down, to shame him into the closet, rebelling against the values he was raised with and choosing Will to be the person to share his pride with.

So Will always kissed Nico tenderly, responding to Nico’s rough kisses with pliant and soft reciprocation, trying to convey that he would always keep Nico safe, that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he loved this boy with every last fibre of his being, that Nico was his safe space and he’d be Nico’s, that he’d stand proudly by him through all the hatred in the world, that he’d fight by his side and he’d love him with all of his soul. He kissed him tenderly because Nico deserved the most reverend care, the gentlest of touches and the kindest of gestures, because Nico was the very air Will breathed, because Nico didn’t remember how it felt to be treated with gentle care and affection, and Will needed him to know that he deserved love, comfort, care, passion, love. He needed Nico to know that Will would be there for him if he broke, that he could let his guard down and Will would treat him gently. Will’s kisses promised Nico that he would care for him for as long as they were together, that although he couldn’t fix Nico or make the pain go away, he’d be right by his side to support him through the darkness, to make him smile when times were bleak.

Breaking apart from a kiss was always something out of necessity for oxygen, dizzy and giddy with affection and passion. Nico’s face was flushed puce, his pupils wide, big black windows into his soul, his glass brown irises like marital bands, flecks of gold and amber and khaki and red and sand catching the light and hypnotising Will. Nico’s lips were swollen and plump, pink tinged with red, perfectly wet and pouty, and Will couldn’t resist kissing the boy again, cupping his cheek in his hand and licking at the seam of Nico’s mouth, taking his bottom lip gently between his bottom teeth and tugging gently as Nico’s lips parted. Will pushed against Nico’s tongue with his own, whining pathetically when Nico sucked gently on his tongue, pulling him deeper into the kiss with his own. The kiss made Will forget whatever he’d been working on, what time it was, what day it was, because gods, the kiss consumed all of his senses, sending warm tingles like pins and needles through Will’s body, his pulse pounding like a drum beat, blood rushing through his ears and blood pulsing through his lips, where Will could feel his pulse synchronise with Nico’s, clouding his mind, lost in all things Nico.

Above all else, Will loved the inherent innocence of every kiss, because every kiss was an act of love, of care. Every kiss was affection, pure comfort. Every kiss was their way of saying that they felt so strongly for the other that they couldn’t quantify it in words, it was their way of showing that the other was their everything, their world. Will knew that Nico thought he’d be going back to Tartarus for loving Will, but how could such a tender, gentle act be a sin? There was no greater innocence, no greater act of love, no greater act of rebellion against hatred, than the tender or passionate kisses they shared. And more than that, Nico was willing to risk Tartarus for one more kiss with Will every time, Nico would kiss Will like he’d never see him again every time because Nico was used to losing everything, and Nico believed he was hellbound, but he could never bring himself to believe that Will could ever go to Tartarus, because Will was his Elysium, his lover in sunlight.

Will kissed Nico carefully, gently, lovingly, hoping that Nico would one day break free from the indoctrination and conditioning he’d grown up with, that one day he wouldn’t be ashamed of himself, that one day he’d realise that to Will, he was an angel, a gift from the gods. Nico was his gift, presenting himself for Will to unwrap and use, trusting Will with his heart, trusting Will to never abuse that trust. Kissing Will was Nico trusting Will despite all the times he’d been let down or abandoned. It was Nico allowing himself to be vulnerable, and Will treated Nico like he was rarer than any treasure, because he was. Will worshipped the very ground Nico walked on, the very air that he breathed. Nico was more sacred to him than any god could ever hope to be, Nico was his greatest innocence, his greatest treasure, his greatest love. Nico was the only thing Will would die for happily. Will would give the world to spend just one more second with Nico, again and again, he’d happily give up all of his friends, his commodities, his home, his shelter. But Nico never asked him to, and never would. Will would give up the world, his family, his life, all in Nico’s name. But Nico would never ask him to give up anything that made him happy. Nico encouraged Will to make plans with his friends, trusted him completely.

Of course, there had been the time Nico had caught Will staring at Paolo, but it wasn’t Nico’s jealousy that drove him to point it out, because Nico knew that Will wasn’t staring at Paolo because he liked him, but because Will’s greatest insecurity was his healing. Will really was just assessing how well Paolo’s arms were functioning. Will was fifteen, and single handedly performing complex surgeries that took sixteen professionals hours to complete, with no qualifications and without the proper equipment. It has been a misunderstanding, a miscommunication in a relatively new and immature relationship- it happens, and besides, a little jealousy is normal, healthy. No relationship was perfect, so they talked, and they worked through the difficulties at every step, corrected and never repeated their mistakes. They had a healthy relationship, because it was built on communication and trust. They could go for hours or days just enjoying each other’s company, no kisses, sometimes no talking, just doing their own thing. They trusted each other, encouraged each other to spend time with their friends- there were no obsessive texts, only the occasional worried text if plans went over time. Whilst Will would always be jealous of Percy, he trusted Nico completely. He knew that Nico would never cheat, and Nico knew Will would never cheat- they had a secure and stable relationship. Will smiled when he saw Nico talking comfortably with Percy, on days where Nico was more affectionate with Jason than with Will, because they had trust. Will was not competing with Nico’s friends. Nico was not competing with Will’s friends. Relationships did not require you to sacrifice and compromise on your happiness. Yes, a relationship was hard work, but a healthy relationship is happy no matter what bumps in the road you encounter. And they made each other happy.

Nico finally pulled away from the kiss, somewhat reluctant, and gently kissed the tip of Will’s nose, sliding off his desk. “I have to teach a sword fighting class with Percy,” he said, tangling his fingers with Will’s and bringing his knuckles up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss there.

“Have fun,” Will replied sincerely, “I’ve got to get back to work, see you at lunch?”

“My father wishes to see me later, I won’t be back until tomorrow morning,” Nico replied quietly, “and then I’m spending time with my friends. But I’ll see you at the campfire tomorrow, then we can spend more time together the next day, okay?”

“Of course,” Will said with a soft smile, “just pop into the infirmary to check in and let me know you’re okay until then?”

“I’ll try,” Nico replied, and Will gave him one last tender kiss.

“I love you, Neeks,” Will said softly.

“Te amo, tesoro,” Nico replied, leaning in for just one more kiss. Will’s eyelids fluttered closed at the gentle pressure, which faded slowly. When Will opened his eyes, he was stood alone. He couldn’t help the grin that found its way onto his face. He figured he’d just have to marry that boy one day.

@solangeloweek Day 1 of Will Solace Birthday Week: romantic relationship

[nicostolemybones]

Of Birthday Disasters and Bi Disasters

Tw: sensory overload, meltdown, self injury (Not cutting), ghost stories/light horror

“I don’t wanna wake up,” Will groaned, burying himself in the covers, “it’s my birthday, let me sleep!”

A loud, definitely deliberate clarinet squeak sounded right by Will’s ear, sending a splitting pain through his ear and his head. “Austin, please don’t,” Will pleaded, covering his ears with his quilt. Kayla started bouncing on his bed, shaking him, and Will felt panicked, trapped, and overwhelmed. “Guys, don’t,” Will protested, but they seemed intent on waking him up. They didn’t realise just how overwhelming the situation was for Will- he buried himself deeper under the covers, wanting the noise and bouncing to stop. However, the longer he stayed under the covers, the louder Austin played wrong notes, and the more violently Kayla bounced. 

Will panicked, shoving as hard as he could and running to the bathroom, bolting himself in and instantly dropping to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. It was too bright- the small round studio lights overhead were disorientating, pure white light blaring down unrelenting, no dimmer switch, each light a new assault on his senses from a different direction, making it near impossible to process anything else- his senses were already overwhelmed. Then there was the yellow strobe lights around the mirror, each light a needle boring into him, and then the mismatch of orange, yellow, and red fairy lights hung around the room for at night, each light a bullet, each tiny movement of Will’s head blurring the lights, dizzying, disorientating. Will clamped his eyes shut, hoping to block it out.

Then the insistent banging on the bathroom door began, each loud pound a jolt of pain to Will’s ears. Every knock seemed to be sharper and louder and more painful than the last, and then of course, the shouting began, shrill voices yelling his name and trying to get his attention. Will was unable to process what they were saying- it was too loud, too much, and it hurt. And to make matters worse, Will didn’t have his headphones, so he settled for clamping his hands over his ears, but it only seemed to amplify everything, so he jammed his fingers as deep into his ears as he could get, painfully so, until the outside sounds muffled and all he could hear was the low groaning and creaking made my every minute twitch of his fingers, and the blurry rush of his pulse.

Everything was too hot suddenly, and the feather light touches of his cotton pyjamas only irritated him, his skin pricked with sweat and every small movement he made shifted the fabric and added more to the overwhelming cacophony of overloading sensory assaults. Will just wanted pressure, weight, a constant comforting force to make it all better. He rocked, the motion comforting, helping him to focus on the motion of rocking and not the sensory assault he was under.

The final straw that broke the camel’s back was the smells. Will had always been particularly sensitive to smells, more so than anything else. And there were many smells. There was the earthy smell of fresh cut grass, of the smell of the soil wet with rain from the night before, the smell of the heat in the air, the humidity. And then there was the smell of the cleaning products, sterile, but strong bleach, nauseating and dizzying, so clinical but so chemical, the smell of artificial pine scent, far too strong, far too much. The lingering smells of aftershaves and perfumes and deodorants from the morning, each scent overlapping and clashing and harmonising horribly, assaulting his nose with burning chemicals, making him sneeze. Then there was the slightly more muted smells of the soaps, but there was still the slight smell of caustic soda from the soaps and detergents left on the towels. There were the musky smells of sweat, even blood, from the towel rail right next to Will, all different body odors adding onto the already overwhelming smells. But the worst for Will was the still ever-present smell of faeces and urine from the toilet- smells lingered, even if most people didn’t notice them, and Will was sensitive to smell, and of course, the smell of human waste was nauseating. Will felt the bile rising in his throat, just about managing to crawl to the toilet and throw up. The smell of vomit and the choking feeling and the acidic bitter taste was more than enough to make him panic and overwhelm him further, and he found himself throwing up again. 

Desperate distressed sobs wrenched through his body, unable to take deep breaths through the crying, because he couldn’t control it. Eyes open and fingers out of his ears, and every sense was unbearably overstimulated, a suffocating panic and need for it to end only adding to the overwhelming mess. He felt dizzy and hot, so he stripped to his underwear, clawing at his skin to try to make the itching suffocating feeling from the sweat go away. He pulled at his hair and his teeth and his ears and anywhere he could grab, as though he could loosen his skin or make it stop. He screamed out, as though it would stop the panic in its tracks, and because he was frightened, it all wouldn’t stop and he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t process it all, and everything was suffocating him. Eventually, he resorted to hitting his head off the wall, because his head hurt, and it felt like he needed to break it out, he just wanted it to stop and he couldn’t breathe, it was all too much-

“Will?”

That was Nico’s voice, Nico knew how he was feeling, he knew Nico could help him. He forced himself to stand and open the door, and Nico lead him to the far corner of his cabin, the space by the bathroom where most cabins had book shelves or a dresser. Instead, the corner had thick curtains to block out the rest of the light from the cabin. Nico helped him to sit down and wrapped him in a weighted blanket, giving Will his headphones. It was quieter, darker, and far less overwhelming, and Will could focus enough to talk himself through calming down, to take slower breaths. Nico sat beside him, hugging his knees to his chest and reaching out to take Will’s hands, gently rocking. Will rocked too, following Nico’s comforting pace, the quiet music from his noise-cancelling headphones the only sound he could hear, and the music felt how he felt, hectic, and with each song change the music calmed, allowing him to slowly work through each emotion he was feeling and unwind them all. The alcove was only lit by a dark purple lava lamp, a stark contrast from the brightness outside, and the light was a soft glow, from one source, no reflective surfaces for it to bounce off. It was soothing to watch the bubbles, something he could visually focus on without feeling overwhelmed. The pressure of the blanket he had was comforting, heavy like a hug, grounding him nicely. The smells were muted here- it was cleaned, but without the use of strong chemical products. Plain smelling soaps were used to wash all the cushions and blankets that made the alcove so cosy, so the only smells were his own mild sandalwood and lemon body wash and peony shampoo, and Nico’s pomegranate shampoo.

Will wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he felt a lot calmer, and everything was muted enough. He switched his headphones for earbuds so he could hear more and assess his surroundings, glad to only hear the chirp of birds and distant laughter. Nico looked up at him- or at least, somewhat towards him. Nico struggled with eye contact, and Will would be lying if he said he wouldn’t find eye contact overwhelming. “Are you feeling okay now,” Nico asked quietly, and Will took a few deep breaths to assess how he felt. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t manage to force any sounds out, so he nodded instead. “Is there anything you need?” Will thought for a moment, and gestured vaguely that he needed water and hugs if Nico was okay with it. Nico seemed to understand what Will was trying to communicate, leaving and returning with a bottle of water for Will, pulling him to his chest and gently running his fingers through Will’s hair. Will was able to relax, sitting there quietly with Nico.

Will wasn’t sure how long he was sat there with Nico, but he felt Nico gently push at his shoulder. Will reluctantly released Nico, mouthing ‘sorry’. 

“It’s okay,” Nico explained quietly, “I just… too much physical contact.”

“That’s okay,” Will managed to reply, glad he hadn’t stayed non-verbal for long enough for it to be a barrier of communication with anybody.

“I’m sorry,” Nico said softly, “I just…”

“Overwhelming, kinda like you wanna rip your skin off?” Unlike Will, who was touch-seeking and tactile, Nico was rather touch averse, partly because he was touch-sensitive and partly because of all his trauma. He’d described physical contact he didn’t want as uncomfortable, like when a bug flies into your face and it still feels like the bug is there, but intense and everywhere, to the point it made him want to scrape his skin off.

“Yeah, that,” Nico replied, and Will reached up to one of the shelves of stim toys. He picked out a tub of glittered sunset amber slime and scooped it out, squeezing it between his fingers. It felt cold and squidgy, but it was quite a dry slime, and it wasn’t sticking to his fingers, which he appreciated because it was murder to get from behind his nails. The glitter, however, Will figured, he’d be stuck with for a month at least. He kneaded the slime in his hands, squeezing it and stretching it and squashing it, feeling it warm up. He folded it and held it up and watched it slowly stretch out and droop, catching the slime in the palm of his other hand. It was oddly soothing and entertaining.

“I forgot… it’s my birthday,” Will said quietly, pressing the slime into his palm.

“You never told me,” Nico replied, and Will shrugged.

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get me anything. Plus I kinda still don’t know if you see me as a friend, and I didn’t want to scare you off like before.”

“I like to think we’re friends,” Nico replied quietly, and both boys blushed. Nico reached into his pocket and pulled out a ball of tangled pipe cleaners. “It’s not much but… I kinda made this for you when I had to help out in the arts and crafts building... you like rough textures, right? I uh- I made this for you. I thought you could fiddle with it when you’re trying to focus or feeling overwhelmed, and maybe the texture would help you to calm down.”

“That’s so thoughtful,” Will blushed, putting the slime away in favour of gently taking the pipe cleaner ball from Nico’s hand and tangling the ends around his fingers, tying knots in them and shaping them in his hand. “Thank you, Nico, I think this will help me better than the bandage I wrap around my hand.”

“That’s uh- that’s what I thought,” Nico replied awkwardly, “we missed breakfast.”

“That’s okay,” Will said quietly, “I’m not hungry anyway, I threw up this morning.”

“If you’re feeling ready to face the day now, you should get dressed and showered ready for today. I’m gonna leave you to get ready now, I’m still in my pyjamas because Austin and Kayla woke me up to come to you. I wanna help out at the infirmary today, but I’ll grab us some sandwiches so if we get hungry we have something to eat. I know you like yours as plain as possible because spice and strong flavours and smells make you gag, so not egg, maybe cheddar cheese or chicken?”

“Thanks, Nico,” Will smiled, “and I remembered you don’t like too many textures or clashing flavours in your food, so I got some better snacks in the infirmary that you might prefer over the granola bars.”

“Thanks,” Nico smiled, leaving Will to get ready.

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly- the familiarity of routine felt comfortable, and the unique challenges of every patient, demanding knowledge recall and practical applications, keeping his hands busy, took just the right amount of focus for Will’s comfort zone, calm in the chaos of injuries. When he felt stressed or overwhelmed, or when he was trying to keep his focus on lengthy discussions with a patient, trying to stay on topic, he instinctively fiddled with the pipe cleaner ball. He found it to be much more effective as a stim than wrapping and unwrapping a bandage on his hand, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him think of Nico. Nico was thoughtful and kind, although he hid that behind layers of sarcasm and defensiveness. However, all of those defences had dropped the moment Will respected his boundaries without question. Sure, sometimes Will missed social cues and misread Nico, but he always immediately rectified any mistakes when Nico voiced his discomfort. Nico’s defences dropped because Will didn’t treat him like he was different, or stupid, or weird. Will didn’t tell him to stop talking if he info dumped about mythomagic. Because, despite all of their differences, they were the same, and they both understood things about each other that other people simply didn’t seem to understand, or make an effort to understand. 

Later at the campfire, everybody had gathered, and Will knew that there was going to be cake, much like on every camper’s birthday. Will was quite a sociable person- and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like all the attention. He’d received a pair of light blue denim cuffed jeans from Lou-Ellen, a fellow bisexual, which he was more than happy to wear. Cecil had gotten him a bi pride pin, which Will happily wore on his red turtleneck. And of course, he already had his trans converse from Clarisse. Kayla and Austin chipped in to buy him a ukulele, which was just about the only instrument Will could play. Will spent the afternoon socialising, walking around to talk to all the familiar campers, introducing himself with finger guns and peace signs like a true disaster bi, because this was his home and these people were his friends. He felt at home here at camp. He hadn’t seen Nico all night, but he figured that Nico wouldn’t turn up anyway- after all, crowds and people were two things where Nico would rather stick his eyeballs in a blender than endure them willingly. He was a little disappointed- mainly because of his probably-more-than-a-crush on the boy, which is why Will couldn’t contain his grin when he finally saw Nico, stood at the sidelines, swinging his arms gently by his sides and turning from side to side, a stim of his that he always indulged in when he thought nobody was looking, not forcing himself to socialise and remaining in his comfort zone.

Eventually, the camp settled down into seats, and Nico sat next to Will on the smallest log- that way, he wouldn’t have to share with anybody else. Will didn’t bother to hide the blush on his face- after all, he didn’t think Nico would look up at him given Nico’s strong dislike for eye contact, which is probably why he didn’t realise that Nico kept looking to him and blushing, smiling happily. Toasting marshmallows went as usual- campers scrambled to find a stick, Will and the Aphrodite kids pointed out that sticks on the floor were disgusting death sticks, Chiron handed out clean kebab skewers, and Nico ignored everybody’s protests and summoned a broken femur bone to use instead of a stick. 

Ghost stories were Will’s favourite part of any campfire, and of course, Nico loved to tell ghost stories. That was, once the younger campers had taken slices of cake and gone to bed. “So,” Nico began, a small grin forming on his face, which Will found adorable, “twenty years ago today, some of the Ares kids were on patrol in the forest and they found a deer carcass. Which is nothing unusual, of course, because it’s a deer carcass, animals die. But the weird thing was, it was fully decomposed to a dry skeleton, and it hadn’t been there the night before. Now, Artemis and her hunters had been at camp, so naturally they blamed the hunters, but Artemis herself confirmed that it couldn’t have been her hunters. Now, interesting fact, I swear it’s relevant, if you’re going to dump a body, the decomposition will mean more nutrients like nitrogen for the grass, so the grass will grow greener. So if you place an animal carcass over a body dump, it’s less suspicious. If you bury the body vertically, at least six feet of space above the head, it’s unlikely they’ll find the body. But because of the sudden appearance, they excavated and found, shock horror, a corpse of a boy nobody remembered at camp. Now, these deaths kept happening every two years, except each animal carcass represented an animal that represented each cabin, going in order of the cabins. But nobody remembers anything about who the campers were, at all. No memories, no nothing. But we know from marks on the spines that all of the bodies were decapitated, strangled, or had their necks snapped, or hung. But there is no physical evidence, none at all to point to a human killer, plus no demigod has been at camp long enough to be responsible for all the murders, apart from the ghost boy, whose head is backwards from where his neck was snapped. He seeks revenge, and he refuses to communicate with me. In fact,” Nico smirked, pointing over to a spot by the forest, “that looks like an animal carcass right there.” Some campers screamed, but Will laughed- Nico was so very obviously bullshitting. “If you give me ten dollars each, I’ll make sure you’re not next. I can do that. Or he might possess me right now and you’re all doomed because he could use me to control the dead and make all the skeletons choke you-” Nico summoned a skeletal hand, and everybody ran. Will laughed lightly, and Nico blushed, looking somewhat proud of himself as Chiron rounded everybody up and reminded them that Nico’s ghost stories weren’t real and not to give him money, because he was now certainly not getting his allowance.

The tone lightened with some singing, which Will loved but was terrible at, and Nico hated but was amazing at. Campers finished off the cake and everybody shared happy stories for a while, or complained about their parents, although the highlight of the campfire was probably the appearance of bats from the trees. Pipistrelles, it appeared, according to Nico, which weren’t native.  Nico immediately started bouncing, flapping his arms and grinning wildly. He loved bats more than he loved mythomagic, and Nico’s pure happiness and excitement seemed contagious, and Will found himself joining Nico in his flapping- it felt good and he was easily excitable, and besides, who the fuck would judge them for being happy?

The highlight of Will’s evening, however, was when everybody had left, and it was just him and Nico watching the campfire, still slightly buzzed from seeing the bats. They just sat in silence for a while, enjoying the cooler night’s air, enjoying watching the way the flames danced, the heat keeping them just warm enough to stay outside for a little while longer. It was Nico who spoke first. “So… did you enjoy your birthday?”

“Apart from this morning? Yeah, I did,” Will smiled, looking to Nico. Nico looked nervous, like he was building up the courage to say something. 

“Uh- Will?”

“What’s up,” Will asked carefully, turning in his seat so he could see Nico better.

“I uh- I’m gay,” Nico said quietly, his voice strained as though he’d forced the words out.

“Thanks for trusting me, Nico,” Will said delicately. He reached out to touch Nico’s shoulder, but decided against it- Nico was jittery, and Will didn’t want to startle him. 

“And I think I like you,” Nico blurted out, picking at his shoelaces and bouncing his leg nervously, chewing his lip. Will hadn’t expected that. He took a few seconds to make sure he’d heard correctly- his crush was gay and into him. Nico liked him. Or at least, Will hoped Nico meant he liked Will in that way. What if Nico meant as a friend?

“Nico,” Will began gently, “can you clarify what you mean by that for me, so I can respond appropriately?”

“I mean uh-” Nico cleared his throat and swallowed, and Will chewed the inside of his lip nervously. “I mean I… think you’re cute,” Nico blushed, “as in… I’m attracted to you…”

“Oh,” Will replied, trying to think about how to respond without jumping up and celebrating like an excitable puppy. “I… I like you too!”

“I know,” Nico replied quietly, and Will froze. He hadn’t expected that at all. “I… I know I’m bad at social cues, but… I- I���m good at analysing things, I mean- I play chess and mythomagic, you have to predict the next five moves at least, so- anyway, I… I noticed I make you blush, and you spend a lot of time with me, and I notice you staring at me when you think I can’t see you, and you’re always doing sweet things, so I asked Lou-Ellen, and she gave me a whole speech about how cute we apparently are.”

“Oh wow,” Will replied, taking in the situation. Nico liked him, and he knew Will liked him, which was probably why he told Will he liked him back. Which meant he was either going to ask they stay friends, or ask they date, or ask they part ways. Will hoped it was the second option. He got his answer when Nico moved his hand across the space between them, carefully intertwining their fingers together.

“I want to try to kiss you,” Nico admitted, before turning to face Will, looking at the log beside him, “but I don’t know if I’ll be overwhelmed or not, so I don’t want to get your hopes up,” he continued, “But… I’d like to try to kiss you, if you’d be comfortable with that.”

“I uh- I would,” Will replied, cheeks flamed pink, the tips of his ears red, “are you… are you sure you’re comfortable with this?”

“Yeah,” Nico replied, meeting Will’s eyes briefly, for a few seconds, and Will felt like Nico was looking into his soul, his heart fluttering as his eyes instinctively closing. Nico leaned close, and gently pressed his lips to Will’s. Nico gasped in surprise, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Will’s hair, and Will felt breathless, because Nico was kissing him, and he was kissing back, and nothing had ever felt so real before. Nico pulled away slowly, flushing puce and looking away. “That was… nice,” he admitted, and Will could see the smile tugging at his lips, “Happy Birthday, Will.”

“Wow,” Will laughed happily, “that’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had,” he grinned.

“Goodnight, Will,” Nico said softly, looking into Will’s eyes one more time with a coy smile before dissolving into the shadows. Will gently touched his lips with his fingertips, the cool tingle from where Nico’s had moved against his still there. His birthday had actually turned out okay after all.

@solangeloweek day 5- Birthday (it's a little late at 4:30am but oof)

[nicostolemybones]

Ghost King Solace

When the newest campers arrived at Camp Half Blood and received the standard tour and basic history, they were left wondering which camper they absolutely had to avoid- because Cabin 13 was terrifyingly dark, and from what they’d heard, children of Hade tended to be on the wrong side of morality. Cabin 13 currently had pitch black walls, carved from obsidian, tourmaline, black tiger’s eye, onyx- just about every black crystal one could imagine. The roof twisted into a spire, an empty bell tower at the top looming over camp and casting a sharp shadow on the ground, extending out like the cabin was trying to pull you in, a black carpet of shadows inviting you in a your peril. The door was deadbolted- in fact, there was a large bolt on the outside. The door was wooden, with a tiny window embedded in- the window had bars running through it, like it was repurposed from a prison or an old psychiatric hospital. The cabin seemed designed to keep people in, and to keep people out. It was pitch black inside, impossible to see in, although they figured that if the inhabitant was to stand right close to the window, then the light outside would be enough to show their face. In fact, when they saw a pale figure move across the window, they screamed and ran.

By the time the tour was over, they figured the inhabitant was most likely Nico di Angelo. He seemed to fit the tone of the cabin- he was terrifying, to say the least. He was five foot three and ninety eight pounds of pure spite, eyes like brown glass and dark black curls unruly and untamed, jutting out like bat wings. He was pale and gaunt, the slight hint of an olive undertone only visible if he stepped into the sunlight. The boy was silent when he walked, appearing behind people and speaking without a warning. He wore clothes as dark as his personality appeared to be, with gruesome images of zombies and ghosts and graveyards and heavy metal bands. His boots had thick platform soles, metal screwed and bolted and riveted into the them, buckes all up the side and laces all up the front, purple leather flames snaking up the toes, the heels, and the top of the boots.

However, everybody was rather surprised when, during a game of Capture the Flag, the boy was seen to shoot an arrow at a particularly violent Ares camper and run full pelt to a wounded Athena kid, dropping to his side and emptying the contents of a medical kit. The boy worked quickly to irrigate and treat the wound, hands glowing a warm dark amber, like embers, as he sang a hymn to Apollo and healed the wound with the light. The boy was a son of Apollo, which evidently, left everybody confused.

That’s also why, of course, they were so surprised when they finally saw the Son of Hades. The chill in the air was enough warning that something terrible was probably going to happen and they were probably going to die in the forest before they’d graduated middle school. They were even more surprised when Will Solace stepped through the shadows, strutting confidently as the smoky tendrils seemed to dance around him, wrapping around his arms as he raised them, the earth shaking and splitting as skeletons clawed their way out like bone spiders, following him forwards. Holy shit, he was scary and cool. He lifted an arm, and the shadows extended from him like whips, tendrils of darkness lashing out at the Ares campers who were attempting to get to di Angelo. Seeing the Ares campers who had spent their mornings shoving the new campers’ heads into toilets now running like their life depended on it was certainly something that sparked joy amongst the newcomers. It was when the shadows finally retreated that they were able to properly take in the walking contradiction that was Will Solace.

The boy was a fashion disaster. He should not be allowed to dress himself, they figured. He was wearing a horrible bright orange shirt- not even a camp shirt, which would have been a forgiven fashion faux-pas, but a neon orange shirt with “geek” scrawled across it. To make matters worse, he had a green button down over the top, but it wasn’t moss green or forest green or mint green, but rather mould green, neon green, and snot green plaid. And the as if two layers in the middle of summer wasn’t enough, he wore a yellow leather women’s jacket over the top- but damn was the jacket to die for. However, on the back was a badly painted stylized sun. The boy also wore the worst shorts they had ever seen- neon blue with suns and clouds and beath umbrellas and ice creams and parrots and way too many hand drawn flowers scrawled on in felt tips bleeding out and smudging. And finally, neon pink flip flops with matching loom bands. But damn did that boy wear those clothes with a confidence they’d never seen before. It was very clear that Will Solace couldn’t give two shits what people thought of him, because it was clear that he was dressing for himself and nobody else, and if that boy wanted to wear an outfit that clashed, he’d wear an outfit that clashed. He glared at everybody, an unspoken challenge of ‘say something, I dare you’ in his eyes.

And just like that, with a wink to a very flustered and distracted Nico di Angelo, Will sprinted into the shadows, smoky tendrils still radiating up from the dead grass footsteps he left behind.

In the next few days, the new campers quickly realised that Will Solace was, to put it impolitely, a little ray of fucking sunshine. He handed out bright yellow lollipops to campers, set up a lemonade stall, stuck post-it notes with compliments on camper’s backs to make them smile, picked sunflowers to decorate all the cabins, and even made the cat-like Nico blush. Despite not knowing him, the new campers instantly felt safe and comfortable around him. He radiated unconditional love. Campers felt empowered to express themselves, because if Will could wear whatever he wanted, then so could they, why not? In fact, when one of the recently claimed boys from the Aphrodite cabin was being teased by a bunch of Ares campers for wearing a skirt, Will Solace appeared from the shadows behind them, tapped the leader on the shoulder, and punched him in the face. He sent them running, then put a gentle arm around the boy and invited him to sit with him and his friends- who just so happened to include THE Percy Jackson who they’d only heard of in camp legend. All of the most popular, most respected members of camp were there, and Will made sure everybody invited the boy in with open arms. Ghost King Solace was everybody’s ally, and camp life was just a little bit less grim with him by everyone’s side.

@solangeloweek day 3- godswap

[nicostolemybones]

Hufflepuff House Sunshine

To say Will Solace was having a terrible day was an understatement. He’d had a sleepless night, thanks to a suspected case of the plague- and by suspected case of the plague, Will means a common cold from his sister Kayla. Except he was completely convinced that he absolutely did not have a cold, he most certainly had man flu. He couldn’t breathe through his nose at all, his sinuses heavy and his head sore. Madam Pomfrey had told him, with no room for arguments, that he was not allowed to help out in the infirmary whilst he was sick. Will was halfway through a boring transfigurations class when his transfigurations partner, Nico di Angelo, started giggling uncontrollably. McGonagall raised her eyebrow, but Nico only started to laugh more.”What now,” Will asked quietly, and Nico pointed at his project.

Said project was supposed to be a tortoise being transfigured into a top hat. However, Nico had created “Voldetort!” Nico was hysterically laughing by now at Voldetort, and Will couldn’t help but join in- the giggles were infectious.

“Nico! That’s not funny,” Will protested, but one more look at Voldetort had him moved to tears of hysterical laughter.

“Voldetort,” Nico wheezed breathlessly, which seemed to be the final straw for McGonagall, who strode over to the desk, looking over there shoulders.

“Care to share the joke with the class, di Angelo, Solace?”

“Voldetort,” Nico repeated, pointing at the creation.

McGonagall gave an amused hum, and Will lost the ability to control his giggles. “Five points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff,” she declared, returning to the front desk, “oh, and please attempt to control your giggles, boys, and focus on the project you’ve been given, or I shall have to send you out of the class.”

“Cool, see you later,” Nico shrugged, walking straight out of class.

“I uh- he has a doctor’s note, so do I,” Will said quickly, jogging after Nico. “You can’t just- walk out of class,” Will gasped, and Nico gave him a pointed look.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Uh… well you need somebody to make sure you stay out of trouble! Plus in the aftermath of Voldemort-”

“Voldetort!”

“Very mature(!) Anyway, even with voldemort gone we aren’t necessarily safe, so,, we should walk around in pairs, you know, use the buddy system?”

“You’re such a dork,” Nico snorted.

“Says the boy who made a card game out of the chocolate frog cards,” Will protested.

“Yeah, so? I sell the cards in packs to people at tuck, and I make one hundred galleons a day!”

“That’s against the rules, Nico!”

“Technically, the rule is you can’t sell sweets or chocolate on school premises, it says nothing about selling playing cards. Check and mate!”

“That’s… actually genius,” Will smiled, “so, where are we going?”

“That...is a really good question,” Nico replied, “Slytherin common room?”

“No thanks,” Will replied, “the Giant Squid freaks me out every time he swims past…”

“Oh, you mean Steve?”

“Who the fuck named him Steve?”

“Percy did,” Nico replied, and Will shrugged- that was just regular weirdness at Hogwarts.

“We could go sneak into the kitchens?” Will suggested, “there’s a secret passage by the Hufflepuff common room that somebody dug so we could stress eat during exam season and obsessively bake cookies.”

“Oh my gods it’s like a care bear possessed your entire house,” Nico laughed, “how about we break into the Ravenclaw common room?”

“Only Ravenclaws can get in there.”

“You, my friend, need more Slytherin in you! Where’s your ambition? I bet you ten chocolate frogs-”

“Deal!”

“You didn’t even hear my-”

“I said deal, di Angelo, I don’t fuck around with cholocate.”

“You just sold your soul to me, Solace,” Nico joked, and Will shrugged.

“You already stole my heart, you can take my soul any day.”

“Shut up, sap,” Nico blushed, trying to hide his face behind his hair as they reached the Ravenclaw common room door. Nico knocked, waiting for a riddle.

“What has two eyes but cannot see, what appears red in one light and blue in another-”

“A blind police dog next to a cop car with the flashing lights on, now let us in.”

“The answer’s-” Will gasped when the door opened anyway, and Nico smirked triumphantly. “The answer was Iridescent, Nico,” Will protested.

“Are you sure you’re not a secret Ravenclaw, Solace?”

“Are you sure you aren’t a Hufflepuff, di Angelo?” Nico gasped dramatically, clutching his chest.

Will reached out, softly pressing his finger to the tip of Nico’s nose, making him go cross-eyed. “Boop!”

“Fuck off,” Nico scowled, although Will merely laughed musically- there was no malice in his tone. “That was a sneaky move, you snake, are you sure you weren’t supposed to be a slytherin?”

“Well, the hat did try to put me in Slytherin,” Will mused, “because I’m ambitious and all, but I value loyalty and friendship and kindness and helpfulness far more than anything else, and I offered the sorting hat my mom’s cookies if it put me in Hufflepuff.”

“Bribery, huh...that… that is simultaneously the most Slytherin and the most Hufflepuff thing I have ever heard. You never cease to surprise me,” Nico huffed.

“Why did we break in here anyway?”

“Because I’m chaotic evil and I’m going to draw a weiner in all the books.”

“Nico,” Will gasped, “you can’t just-”

“There’s nothing in the rules about writing in books or drawing anatomical drawings, therefore, I’m not breaking the rules.”

“Good gods you’re lawful evil,” Will gasped.

“You take that back,” Nico gasped in mock offence (or at least, what Will hoped was mock offence). “Actually,” Will grinned, tilting his head to the side, “you’re a whole-ass lawful good!”

“No!” Nico gasped.

“Yes you are!” Will grinned, “I saw you give your homework to Lou-Ellen in Potions!”

“I did no such thing,” Nico gasped, and Will laughed.

“You’re basically a human corn snake, you eat, get warm, and go to sleep.”

“You just described a cat.”

“Danger noodles are forbidden kitties!” Will reasoned, and Nico shook his head in disbelief.

“Yeah well- you’re a forbidden kitty!” Nico retorted.

“Did you just call me a furry?”

“You know what- yes. Yes I did.”

“I should buy a fursuit.”

“Will no,” Nico protested.

“Will yes!” Will grinned, “You know who else is a furry?”

“Frank, Grover, and Alex?”

“Well- yes, but I was gonna say the house mascots! School sanctioned fursonas.”

“That mental image is cursed. Thank you for giving me inspiration for the howler I’m going to send to Jason today,” Nico smiled.

“You’re very welcome,” Will grinned, “you should get him to dress as the Gryffindor lion before you send the howler.”

“Superb, you funky little badger,” Nico grinned, and Will giggled.

“Anyway,” Nico mused, “I thought you said you had the plague.”

“This may sound like I was being a dramatic dumbass, but I accidentally ate a sweet from the Stolls and it may have been responsible for my sneezing fit.”

“You ate something the Stolls gave you? You know they probably got it from the Weasley’s shop?”

“Nico, you don’t understand. It was food shaped. I ate an eraser once because it looked like sushi.”

“Oh my gods you’re a walking hazard, Solace,” Nico sighed in exasperation, “the black and yellow house colours are secretly hazard tape.”

“Warning, may bake you cookies and give you hugs.”

“Please tell me you haven’t.”

“Maybe,” Will beamed, holding a paper bag to his chest before holding them out to Nico, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Holy shit, you’re a literal ray of fucking sunshine,” Nico grinned, taking the bag and peering inside.

“They’re cantuccini almond and honey biscotti,” Will announced, “I asked your dad who gave me your mother’s recipe! You mentioned how she used to bake you cookies when you had a nightmare, and how you’d never had any since your mom died because your dad can’t cook anything other than burned ready meals and your step mom puts pomegranate in everything and your step gran just feeds you cereal, so I thought you’d appreciate… are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Nico protested, “I’m having an allergic reaction, too much human emotions.”

“Aww, that’s adorable!” Will grinned, squeezing Nico in a strong hug.

“I can’t breathe, Will,” Nico protested, and Will laughed gently.

“I’ll let go when you smile,” Will replied stubbornly.

“I’m never going to smile,” Nico grumbled.

“Then you’re eternally trapped in a bear hug!”

“That’s my plan,” Nico replied, hugging back, “my evil, cunning Slytherin plan to get you to cuddle me.”

“I think my Hufflepuff side is rubbing off on you,” Will laughed.

“I was gonna be sorted into Hufflepuff but I blackmailed the sorting hat and I was put in Slytherin.”

“You dramatic gay.”

“You’re gay,” Nico retorted, and Will hummed happily.

“It’s your fault,” Will stated matter of factly.

“Oh sure, blame your rainbow on me, you big homo,” Nico laughed.

“You’re a big homo,” Will replied.

“It’s your fault! You’re freaking adorable, you’re like- the Hufflepuff House Sunshine or something,” Nico huffed.

“Hufflepuff House Sunshine. Huh… that’s my title now,” Will replied with a grin. Perhaps today wouldn’t be such a bad day after all.

@solangeloweek day 4- AU