Hoo - Blog Posts

STOP SCROLLING!!! Every time you see this post, do some work on your art or story! Do ten sentences on your story or add/adjust two things in your art.

You can do it, guys😁

Reblog so fellow artists and writers can get their work done

I heard people have been trying to fight me. We can’t have that.

This is now stackable.

Latern Festival!

Hazel Levesque my beloved.

Click for better quality ✨

me at twelve years old reading about sammy valdez still obsessed with his middle school girlfriend hazel on his deathbed and making it his newborn grandson’s problem

Hazel Levesque

My friends are extremely hyped for Hades 2

Close-ups cause I'm really happy with how this turned out

extra!!!!:

hates tyche because she's ridiculously unlucky, lol

meet my oc

arriana lacap: age twelve, mixed race, 5'6", born nov 27, daughter of cupid & legacy of mars.

main relations: sebastian by @pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid , nico di angelo, jason grace, and perseus jackson. her relationships later broaden to add leo valdez, soyee by 💌 anon, & lisel by @theevanparker.

fav god: juno/hera.

least fav god: tyche.

backstory: she arrives at camp jupiter at the age of eleven, where she is placed in the care of the fifth legion and later the ambassador of pluto. nico is never truly around so she takes it upon herself to go 'adventuring'. this is where she meets her halfbrother, seb. after on of his attacks he is at the top of jupiter's temple and she believes him a blessing from the god to protect her. while she is aware he is only begrudgingly fond of her, she wholeheartedly adores him.

the same cannot be said for her other greek siblings. while cupid kids are naturally loving she is also a legacy of mars (discovered early on as she is granted his blessing whenever in combat). this makes her see any on similar to her as competition. so siblings (that aren't seb)? competition. female aphrodite/venus children? competition. all competition must be crushed and sent to the underworld by her own hand in the most excruciating way possible.

when jason grace disappears, she does as well. they all assume that her adventuring had finally gotten her killed and think nothing of it until she returns on the argo. she accompanies the lost trio as tasked by juno and speaks to percy in dreams while all this happens. the seven, due to the attack on camp jupiter, leave her with the romans. during that time period she figures out that sebastian is the camp killer and so she does the obvious: helps him cover any and all tracks without letting him know she's discovered his secret. she's a good sibling like that.

the power she obtains from cupid is called unrequited love, meaning she can curse any and all loves. platonic, romantic, sexual? you name it and she can take it and absolutely demolish it.

personality: she has a bubbly personality and constantly wishes to please her inspirations/family figures. she is cupid/eros's favourite child because she will do anything he wants as long as it does not interfere or hurt the people she holds dear. strangely enough she is scared of harmless harpies and fawns but adores sirens and any such monsters.

present arc??: she reunites with the lost trio at camp j v camp h. and the rest of he story goes from there!!

any and all plotholes/misconceptions that might be there are supposed to fill in with @pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid 's lore and au!!

meet my oc

main relations: sebastian by @pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid , nico di angelo, jason grace, and perseus jackson. her relationships later broaden to add leo valdez, soyee by 💌 anon, & lisel by @theevanparker.

arriana lacap: age twelve, mixed race, 5'6", born nov 27, daughter of cupid & legacy of mars.

fav god: juno/hera.

least fav god: tyche.

backstory: she arrives at camp jupiter at the age of eleven, where she is placed in the care of the fifth legion and later the ambassador of pluto. nico is never truly around so she takes it upon herself to go 'adventuring'. this is where she meets her halfbrother, seb. after on of his attacks he is at the top of jupiter's temple and she believes him a blessing from the god to protect her. while she is aware he is only begrudgingly fond of her, she wholeheartedly adores him.

the same cannot be said for her other greek siblings. while cupid kids are naturally loving she is also a legacy of mars (discovered early on as she is granted his blessing whenever in combat). this makes her see any on similar to her as competition. so siblings (that aren't seb)? competition. female aphrodite/venus children? competition. all competition must be crushed and sent to the underworld by her own hand in the most excruciating way possible.

when jason grace disappears, she does as well. they all assume that her adventuring had finally gotten her killed and think nothing of it until she returns on the argo. she accompanies the lost trio as tasked by juno and speaks to percy in dreams while all this happens. the seven, due to the attack on camp jupiter, leave her with the romans. during that time period she figures out that sebastian is the camp killer and so she does the obvious: helps him cover any and all tracks without letting him know she's discovered his secret. she's a good sibling like that.

the power she obtains from cupid is called unrequited love, meaning she can curse any and all loves. platonic, romantic, sexual? you name it and she can take it and absolutely demolish it.

personality: she has a bubbly personality and constantly wishes to please her inspirations/family figures. she is cupid/eros's favourite child because she will do anything he wants as long as it does not interfere or hurt the people she holds dear. strangely enough she is scared of harmless harpies and fawns but adores sirens and any such monsters.

present arc??: she reunites with the lost trio at camp j v camp h. and the rest of he story goes from there!!

any and all plotholes/misconceptions that might be there are supposed to fill in with @pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid 's lore and au!!

Adding some things

As we all know, after the battle of Manhattan Percy was offered the gift of immortality, but he refuses in order to stay with Annabeth (I could write a whole essay on why this wasn't the best choice but we're not here for that). But he does ask the Gods to swear to grant whatever his wishes are if they are within their divine powers.

He asks that they claim their kids, allow the minor deities cabins, and that they free Calypso. From my hazy memory, which may be altered due to the many fanfictions I've read, he makes them swear on the Styx. Oaths on the Styx are binding and not even the Gods can escape them, and that is why Percy used this specific swear. In the final book of ToA, Lester/Apollo escapes his supposed punishment because he had finally understood what it meant to keep one's word. And Lady Styx probably figured that he had had enough torment thanks to Zeus.

So, other than plot convenience leading to the inevitable romance, why was this promise not honoured? The Gods have obviously not forgotten, there are telltale signs: they heeded his first two wishes, and some Gods are odd to him, feeling slighted that he turned down such a gift as divinity.

The only way would be that it wasn't within their powers.

How so? Perhaps Zeus decided she still had wronged them and her punishment needed to continue. After all, her father Atlas still held the sky. But really, he saved Olympus and (allegedly) defeated Chronos. Why is it so hard to let go of a millenia old grudge for the sake of peace? Percy wasn't pleased to know she had still been kept there.

(Before die-hard fans attack me for my 'allegedly', Luke was really the one to defeat the Titan. He delivered the blow.)

So it was merely a plot device so Leo could get his trophy for his selfless sacrifice glorified suicide and so the fans could get closure for Calypso's story that never got a proper ending. Also a money grab (the whole HoO was a money grab so he could have enough for ToA because compare the two and one is obviously better written) and letting fans know he listens to requests, even though it was probably girls who are in love with Leo using his potential partner as a self-insert. Many fans hc as aroace so this decision was definitely influenced by Twitter.

Please correct me if it wasn't the Styx, and feel free to add more.

Any comments? @thatonefandomjumper

The issue with Caleo

(This took me a couple of day's + actual research, so I hope it turned out fine)

I remember reading The House of Hades for the first time. As Leo had become my favorite character at that point the thing I was most excited for was his landing in Ogygia to meet Calypso

I had high hopes for that plotline. I was excited to see their relationship develop throughout the books. But when I finished the chapters, it left a bad taste in my mouth, and I couldn’t quite place why. Said bad taste only got worse after reading the Blood of Olympus.

I told my friend about my confusing feelings for the ship and they assured me that they'd have plenty of good moments during the Trials of Apollo.

They didn’t. They got actively worse. 

It was at that point where I started pinpointing reasons as to my dislike of the ship. Both by finding people on the internet who shared my opinions and by talking about it with friends, the issues with the ship itself just kept piling up.

So why is the ship so bad? And why do many people still actively enjoy it? 

I've decided to compile as many reasons as I can to answer these questions, particularly the former and compile them together in this essay while also asking the question of “How to fix it?”

The two most common criticisms I’ve seen of the ship are “It was rushed\Came out of nowhere” and “The age difference.” For the first one: Yes. It was most definitely rushed. But that didn't have to be a bad thing. 

If I’m being totally honest, I don’t think Leo was written to end up in a relationship. His characterisation in tLH and MoA didn’t feel like they were building towards a romance, or at the very least, it being an afterthought. 

A piece of evidence I have for this reasoning is Percy making the promise to free Calypso. Riordan had presumably made the lost trio by this point as the books were only a year apart. Why would he make it so the gods didn’t honor this specific promise? Yes, they're jerks who don’t keep their promises, but for this particular one it always felt more like an excuse rather than an actual plot point. 

My personal theory for Calypso being reintroduced at all to be Leo’s love interest was the fault of fandom. Yes, the fandom now seems to be more self aware of the fact that teenagers don’t need to be shoved into relationships to feel fulfilled but back then, there were a lot of memes and demands to give Leo a girlfriend. Which is something Riordan seemed to take active notice of. At least on Twitter.

Back to the topic of it being rushed, I would like to compare it to another rushed ship; Solangelo.

Now, before the Solangelo stans come after me, the ship did come out of nowhere. Will was just a background character that was revamped to become Nico's boyfriend. But the relationship itself was expanded upon in ToA in a mostly positive way.

Caleo did the same thing but worse. It expanded upon the ship in a way that was primarily negative. 

But at this point I may hear you asking “Okay, you have only been expressing distaste about the ship instead of giving any actual reasons as to why it’s bad?”

Which brings me to the second most common criticism: The age difference.

Leo is 16. Calypso is over 4612. I think you can immediately spot a problem there.

Now, Calypso is stated to be mentally and physically 16. The physical part makes sense, cuz, well, gods and stuff. But I’ve got a few bones to pick with the mentally one.

When they say ‘mentally 16’ I assume what they mean is that her brain stopped developing when she turned the titan equivalent of 16. That still doesn't mean that she’s lived the years that she did. The fact that her brain stopped maturing doesn't mean that she’s not thousands of years old.

In all honesty, I hate this trope so much. The concept of characters being ‘mentally younger’ is just there to excuse pairing them up with minors. It’s gross.

But for the sake of fairness, I’m going to be ignoring the age difference for the majority of the rest of this essay. Because even without it, the ship doesn't work. In the case of a ship like Sanubis, if the age difference was removed, I’d enjoy the ship a lot more.

The same can not be said about Caleo.

Let’s start with an order of events.

Calypso was cursed after the first titan war to be confined to Ogygia and was forced to fall in love with the men that the gods sent to her with them inevitably leaving her in the end.

We first meet her in tBotL when Percy washes up on her island. Were sympathetic towards her. Her situation is tragic. Percy is also a naturally caring person so he obviously wants her to be okay.

So one of the few promises he makes the gods swear is that they release Calypso.

Flash forward to HoH and Leo lands in Ogygia.

They have a rough start with Calypso immediately getting mad at him for breaking her dining table and then cursing the gods for having the audacity to send someone who wasn't handsome.

It is worth noting that Leo is often insecure about his scrawniness and Calypso is rubbing that fact in hard. But we can sort of excuse it since it makes sense. Calypso is frustrated that despite Percy’s wish, she’s still trapped and men are still being sent to her island.

It is pretty unclear how long Leo spends on her island. Some say around a week. Some say a month. Time in Ogygia is established to be quite unclear and to work differently from normal time. So the in-universe length they got to get to know each other is pretty hard to pin down but we can safely conclude that it wasn’t long enough for Leo to immediately swear a death oath for her.

I honestly don't have too much to say about their interactions in HoH. It was mostly just Calypso being rude to Leo while he actively avoided her. (There was the scene where Gaia tells Calypso to kill Leo in exchange for her freedom and Calypso rejects. I just want to say that Calypso hunting Leo for sport would have been a lot funnier than them entering a relationship.)

In my opinion, the biggest casually in their relationship were their character arcs. More specifically, Leo’s.

And I’m not trying to downgrade the fact that Calypso’s arc was also ruined. But Leo is a main character. Calypso was only brought back to be his love interest. That, mixed with the fact that she changes personality with every book she’s in, it’s pretty hard to pinpoint a character arc of her own to begin with.

But Leo’s? Oh boy.

Despite everything we know about him, Leo’s backstory is a little unclear. Sure we know what happened to him, but none of the details. 

Hera, his mothers death and his aunt’s rejection of him are the ones we know the most details on. It’s his time being homeless and in foster care that raises questions.

He ran away six times between the ages of 8-14 where he was eventually sentenced by court to go to the wilderness school. 

Pretty much all we know about the details is that he slept in sewers and had an abusive foster parent at some point? But running away six times??? Even without the details it is safe to conclude that things weren’t pleasant.

All of this is heavily woven into his personality. Or at least, was. 

The Lost Hero and Mark of Athena are definitely the two books that portray Leo’s character the best. In tLH he says that humor is a good way to hide the pain which is something he demonstrates quite often throughout the two books, especially tLH. In HoH beyond however, it’s not like it’s completely forgotten about, but it takes a big backseat to Calypso.

I think, at least character wise, this is a stupid decision. Throughout the two books, Leo is shown to be desperately lonely. He self isolates quite a bit while constantly doing maintenance and building the Argo and that causes him to grow more distance from his friends. (To be fair, Jason and Piper didn’t make much of an effort either but I think that is something the three of them should have had a conversation about.)

Leo desperately wants a girlfriend. Being surrounded by couples constantly and with the "help" of Nemesis he falls into his whole "seventh wheel" mindset. He flirts around with people way out of his league, mostly so he doesn't end up truly falling for someone. 

I never really saw his constant flirting as sincere. It can be interpreted as him being desperately lonely and trying what he could to find someone or some sort of self aimed internalized homophobia. 

But he appeared to think that getting a girlfriend will solve most of his problems, which is by all accounts, a bad thing. Convincing himself that finding a romantic partner is the end goal of finding happiness is a mindset that is inherently toxic and he should learn to grow out of.

But no.

Instead he just… gets it???

He gets together with Calypso without getting any healthy way to deal with his loneliness.

And oh boy do I think that impacted him negatively.

In BoO a big majority of Leo’s internal monologue is about Calypso. It’s supposed to be sweet, him caring about her so much. But honestly? I found it a bit disturbing.

Not in a “creepy stalker” way though. It was more that it showed just how bad his mental state had gotten that he was willing to commit suicide for a girl he bearly knew because she showed him any form of romantic attraction.

I often find myself thinking about Leo’s sacrifice in general. I think that whole ordeal was handled pretty badly for many different reasons, but for now, all I will be touching on is Leo’s motive. I think Leo would have planned to die, even if Calypso wasn’t in the picture. But making his death about her was a bad move.

In tLH and MoA we get pages upon pages of Leo’s internal monologue about how much he appreciates his friends (especially in tLH) with them not reciprocating. Sure, they care about him a lot, but no to the same extent that he cares about them. Making his death about saving them, especially Jason, would be much more of a gut punch than a person he spent four chapters with.

And I feel that it could directly tie into his friends' arcs (mostly Piper and Jason’s) where they truly learn to appreciate him as a person and as a part of the team. 

I have so many issues with Leo’s death, especially with the aftermath and double especially with the reaction to him coming back. Like… a punching line? Really? I get it’s suppose to be a joke but literally all everyone talked about is how sad Leo’s death made them feel, insted of the fact that he essentially committed glorified suicide with a respawn cheet code that he wasn’t even sure would work.

There is also the issue with the fact that Leo has canonically been abused. A line of people punching him with that information is just… it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

That’s not what this essay is about but I had to get that off my chest.

Let's go back to Calypso.

I honestly don't think Calypso ever truly loved Leo, but rather the freedom that comes with him. She never had a choice. When someone washed up on her island, she was cursed to fall for them. Same with Leo. You may say that she eventually learned to love him without the curse, but I don't think so.

Off the top of my head, I can think of three pleasant Caleo scenes. Three. The first one is where Leo is sent back from her island and they have their first kiss. The kiss always felt a bit manipulative to me. She only kissed him to make sure he came back. And he did! I don’t think Leo thought about her in a romantic sense until that moment. Sure, she called her hot in his mind a few times, but thinking someone is attractive and being so madly in love that you would die are two different things. I’m also not saying that Calypso was an ‘evil manipulator’ or something like that. I just think she was desperately lonely and was trying to find a way to escape off the island.

The second one is the scene where Leo picks up Calypso from Ogygia after having just died. I don't have too many issues with the scene itself, more with the consequences of it.

The third one is in The Dark Prophecy, whereas Leo and Calypso sit Apollo down to tell him that they're going to stay together at the Waystation and try to make their relationship work. But like… They haven't given me a single reason to route for that relationship. Especially not in tDP. Every other scene with them was arguments (although the arguments were mostly one-sided) or them just happening to be in the same room together.

And those arguments were… Well, I felt a bit uncomfortable reading them. In probably the most memorable one, Calypso was calling him out on the fact that he jokes while stressed and that he uses machines as metaphors for real people. The two of them + Apollo are discussing how to save Jo and Emmie’s daughter, Georgina. Leo mentioned an idea for an invention he and Jo could make to find her. And Calypso snaps at him and says he is looking at people as if they were machines.

Her reaction is just… so odd to me. Yes, Leo has a tendency to reduce everything to programs in his head, but in this case he was literally not doing that. He was trying to come up with ways that he could help find Georgina and his speciality is machines, so of course he’d try to find a solution within his skillset.

And then there is the fact that Leo is neurodivergent. Some Nd people tend to think in different ways from others and Leo clearly does so by imagining the world as one big machine. And there is really nothing wrong with that. It’s literally just how his mind works.

So I truly don’t understand the point of this ‘argument.’ Was it to create drama? Was it to establish Calypso's new characterisation??? I truly don’t see the point.

It’s like every conversation they have is just Calypso putting Leo down. Insulting him on his looks, jokes and ideas. It is incredibly rare that we ever say anything genuinely nice about him.

That is not to say that Leo is blameless. The mamacita thing? Yeah, no. That shouldn’t have been there. For those who don’t know, here is an explanation on what mamacita means: The literal translation of mamacita is "little mother" but the figurative and more accurate translation is "hot momma." The word is inextricably linked to a man's perception of a woman as an object of sexual desire.

I don’t think I have to go into why that’s bad. Especially when she told him to stop multiple times.

To be fair, Leo does get called out on it in ToN, and I am happy that he was. But at the same time it frustrates me a little bit, because Leo is being rightfully scolded for not respecting Calypso’s comfort zone, but we never see Calypso get called out for the same thing.

Both Leo and Calypso felt very out of character to me in tDP, the book that is supposedly supposed to sell you on their relationship. 

Leo was a lot more of a comic relief character than he usually is. Sure, he’s not the most serious character, but he had depth. I suppose that I can excuse that a little bit though, as we're seeing him through Apollo’s pov, and from the vast majority of povs besides his own, he is just that one funny friend who cracks jokes. It’s only from his own pov that we really see his struggles. But it still frustrates me because it was never resolved. His trauma is made clear to is it tLH and then it’s never fixed or even acknowledged beyond Leo’s internal monologue and like… two sentences where he briefly talks about it with someone?!?!

Calypso, on the other hand, has a very noticeable personality change. In BotL she is caring, kind and sad. She didn’t have much of a personality and was mostly there to make Percy question the gods and Luke’s motives.

In House of Hades, she is completely different. She’s some form of mad, annoyed or rude throughout the entirety of the book. And in The Dark Prophecy, she’s put up more of a “bad girl” persona.

My only real guess for her sudden change in personality is that Riordan either wanted Caleo to be more like Percabeth or he wanted her attitude towards him to be funny.

Neither of which succeeded.

Then there is the topic of Calypso's curse.

Calypso’s damn curse.

I've already touched on a few aspects of it in earlier parts so I'll try to not repeat myself too much.

But Calypso never had a choice on who came to her island. The gods always sent someone. So the fact that she ends up with the one guy who came back for her just… doesn’t sit right with me. It’s almost as if Calypso owed Leo a relationship for saving her.

And in a narrative sense, it almost felt like a reward for Leo, “Well kid, you've successfully defeated the big bad. Here, have this girlfriend as your prize.”

If Calypso were to decide to break up with Leo, there would always be an air of “But he saved you. You have to be with him.”

And for Leo, this is a literal goddess. The queen of Ogygia and a titaness who has lived literally thousands of years and is older than his dad. Yes, she becomes mortal in The Dark Prophecy (Which I personally think is a stupid decision.) but that still creates a big power difference.

Another thing I have an issue with relates to the fact that Calypso seems to be the priority in the whole relationship.

What I mean by that is that Calypso has been trapped her whole life. She’s never seen the world and decades have passed with her doing nothing but sitting on her island hoping someone would free her.

Leo on the other hand, has been on the run his whole life. He’s never truly had a place to call home after his mom died. He’s been sent to foster home after foster home running away every time. Whether they'd be from the police, the family he previously stayed at or child services, he’s always running.

What Calypso needs is to travel and see the world. What Leo needs is stability and a place to settle down and call home.

And yet, Leo’s absolute first priority in the end of BoO is to show Calypso the world, completely disregarding his own needs. 

He does semi get that ending in ToN where he is seen living at the Waystation, which did make me glad. Calypso is at band camp during that time however, taking a break from their relationship (and god I hope that’s permanent) to experience more parts of life.

Then there is something I don’t think I’ve seen anyone talk about.

In The House of Hades, Calypso mentioned having skimmed through Leo’s life with her magic.

That’s… kind of a huge breach of privacy. Sure, she wanted to know what outfit to make, but how much else did she see?  Some things Leo might not have been comfortable with her knowing, or at least not yet. 

You may look at this as a “She loves him even after having seen his flaws, ” but may I remind you that she literally had no other choice if she wanted to escape her prison?

And after finally escaping she doesn’t treat Leo well at all. 

I've noticed a very specific distinction in canon Calypso and fanon Calypso. There are two main versions of fanon Calypso. One who thinks Leo is charming. She laughs at his jokes, looks at him fondly and the two of them are happy together. The other one loathes him, constantly wondering why she’s dating him. Getting irritated at the smallest joke and it all being excused because ‘Leo likes her.’

Both of them are wrong in their own way but the latter is sadly more accurate.

Canon Calypso seemed genuinely irritated every time Leo cracks a joke. It’s not a ‘she secretly likes it and is pretending she doesn’t because tsundere or whatever.’ She seems to just genuinely dislike them.

Leo uses his humor as a coping mechanism. He’s been through a lot of bad stuff and the only way he knows how to handle it is to laugh it off and crack jokes. I’m not saying that its a good coming mechanism and that he shouldn’t try to get help, but I think that constantly being told that the way you deal with your trauma is stupid is not a good way to go about it. At all.

“But Calypso may not have known about his trauma!” She went through his memories. She is bound to know something.

I haven't even touched on Calypso cursing Annabeth. I get that she was sad, but aiming her anger at Annabeth instead of Percy? Someone he wasn’t even dating yet? Yeah, I think Percy fully underreacted when he met her again.

Now, I wanna take a minute to talk about the Odyssey. It is referenced several times when Calypso is brought up. The narrative of the Odyssey seems to be a bit different from the actual book by Homer and the one we have in the riordanverse.

In that book, we first meet Calypso. When Odysseus arrives on her island, it is made very clear that he is a prisoner. In some iterations, Calypso... does some very very bad things to him. He is kept there for seven years until Athena asks Zeus to send Hermes to ask Calypso to free him, which she reluctantly does.

This seems to be a bit different from the version in pjo where Odysseus supposedly stayed there willingly.

I just question the decision to make someone who was, in their original telling, an immortal kidnapper( along with other things other things), a ‘menatally 16 year old’ who then moves on to enter a relationship with one of the more traumatized 16 year old leads.

You may bring up the argument that the gods were also heavily sanitized, but at least none of them actually entered relationships with children.

But despite all of this, I see the appeal in the ship. I understand why so many people like it. I originally only had a vague idea as to why but I asked a few Caleo shippers why they enjoyed it and the explanations do make sense.

It’s a classic fairy-tail trope with the not so classical protagonists. Leo is not the typical prince charming. He is a scruffy kid who just wants to help someone he cares about. And Calypso, though she could definitely have fit the stereotypical disney princess archetype in BotL, her revamped HoH self is nothing like that. She’s rude and angry most of the time unlike the usuals damsels that need saving.

The main points of enjoyment seem to be the opposites attract trope (personality wise) and the little moments. Leo calling Calypso sunshine. The two of them, planning to open a repair shop together.

And I get it. I really do. Those things could make for cute scenarios.

People use fiction to escape reality. Not enjoying certain parts of it would break the immersion quite a bit. So looking at Caleo as the author intended is what most people do, and that way, they enjoy it. Looking past the author's intentions and not liking what you find is not fun. Heck, I wrote a whole essay about how I dislike a ship that is canon and I know for a fact that if I liked Caleo, my enjoyment of Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo would go up by quite a bit. 

But I wouldn’t be writing this if I didn’t care about the series and It’s characters.

And so, with that said, we've reached the question of “How to fix it?”

Calypso should have joined The Hunters of Artemis. 

It was such an obvious direction for her character to go that I can’t believe some people haven't thought of it. Whether it was after Leo saved her or if the gods let her out, this is what I think should have happened.  Calypso has been trapped her whole life, the only people besides the gods that she interacted with were the men she was cursed to fall in love with, so she is both constantly heartbroken and lonely. And after she finally is free from her island prison she expresses her desire to explore the world she missed out on. But she’s also scared of losing her immortality and becoming mortal.

The Hunters are a group of girls who travel the world together and always have each other's back. They are granted immortality upon entering and swear in oath to never date men. I honestly think it speaks for itself just how perfectly Calypso’s arc would have been wrapped up if she joined them.

For Leo, this question is a bit more complicated.

I’d say there are three ways Leo’s romantic ‘arc’ can go. 1. He doesn’t need a love interest to be a good character and learns to love himself and the people around him. 2. He gets another love interest that doesn't have the same problems. 3. Or he and Calypso do get together, but it is treated as a bad thing.

I like the first one the most. Leo is incredibly self-loathing and thinks having someone to call his own will fix that. Him getting the support he needs or realizing on his own that he doesn't need ‘someone’ to be happy would be a perfect way to wrap up his character. It would also make his ‘sacrifice’ more impactful, as it would be a 100% his own choice with no outside factors guiding him.

The second option is a bit trickier, but if I had to give him any other love interest, I’d probably go with Nico. Now, before the solangelo shippers skin me alive, let me explain my thought process. To keep it short, Leo and Nico are very much ‘the loners’ on the Argo. The only two without a romantic partner. They also mirror each other pretty well. Nico, an extrovert, became an introvert due to trauma. And Leo, an introvert, became an extrovert due to trauma. It would be a good way to help each other heal. Also, Leo being attracted to men in some capacity could be a good explanation for his over the top insincere flirting with women. I could honestly make a whole nother essay on the lost potential of Valdangelo.

The third one would be quite interesting. I could honestly see their relationship being the exact same as it is in canon, but this time, the plot and the other characters actually acknowledge the bad parts. Calypso could realize that she doesnt need a man to make her happy. Leo’s friends could actually notice how bad his mental state is and try to help him.

These are, of course, not the only options. I've heard of some other good ideas out there.

If you still enjoy the ship after all of this, then more power to you. I am not here to tell you what you can and can’t ship. And I am glad you can find enjoyment in something I can’t, especially since it being a canon ship, enjoying it would bring the overall enjoyment of the books up. I’m pretty burned out on this ship in all honesty. I think I’ll take a break from thinking about it for a while, in both positive and negative ways.

Hearing other people's opinions on it helped me realize why the ship appealed to as many people as it does. But me? I don’t think I’ll ever warm up to the ship. I think it’ll alway be, in my opinion, the worst canon pjo ship.

(4840 Words. If you have any thoughts or opinions feel free to share them!)

I’m reading Heroes of the Olympus for the first time in the year of the lord 2023

“You love him despite the burden of Atlas resting on his shoulders, and he loves you despite the death still clinging to your lips, and the blood drying at it’s corners. What a pair you make.”

— the greatest lovers in hell // L.H.Z

Omg guys it's Jason

“Nico Di Angelo is a token gay! His coming out scene sucked!” babes I’m BEGGING you to remember 2013 gay characters were not allowed in children’s media.

Lemme say that again: In 2013, it was expected that gay characters would be censored in children’s mass media.

Remember Korra? How she and Asami had to settle for ambiguous handholding rather than a kiss? That was fully a year after House of Hades came out. Nickelodeon said No Gays, the Children™ can’t handle that. Too risky. And people said man that stinks, but that’s how these things go in 2014 America.

Gay marriage was literally still illegal in the vast majority of US states. As of October 8th, 2013 (House of Hades release date) Gay Marriage was only a thing in thirteen fucking states. California had only legalized it that year.

Gay people were still very much on the fringes of society. It was an acceptable political position on both sides of the aisle to be against the existence and equal rights of gay people.

Nico was legitimately a landmark character in queer representation. To my knowledge, there wasn’t before an openly gay main character in a bestselling ya/middle grade fantasy fiction series. It simply was not a thing. They didn’t exist. They weren’t allowed to exist.

I remember people crying. Finally. It was a watershed moment. Kids all across the world finally got someone who represented them. It was such a big fucking deal. And it was controversial!!! Not for the reasons it is today, but because people thought gay kids having representation was inappropriate.

Is Nico’s coming out a great scene? No, these days it leaves a lot to be desired. It’s not perfect by any stretch of the imagination and I’m sure Rick wishes he could change it. But the fact that’s the case is a wonderful reflection of how far we’ve come.

All of your gay heroes in children’s media have Nico Di Angelo to thank. It was important, and good. It deserves to be celebrated, even if we’ve progressed past it since.

can frank transform into dinosaurs? give me tyrannosaurus zhang. barney the purple chinese canadian

if you think piper “genuinely attracted to Jason” mclean is a lesbian just because she’s currently dating a woman you’re being biphobic sorry I don’t make the rules

So true

the seven are so funny theyre literally just: abandoned by dad, neglected by dad, dead mom, dead mom, abandoned by dead mom, neglected by dead mom, and percy

"statistically, he cant save everyone"

but its will solace alone in the infirmary after losing another life that he had put his all in too save. but somehow it still wasn't enough.

One of Nico's weakest points is his instability. Throughout most of the original series Percy never knew what to make of Nico and was never sure if he was falling into a trap or not.

Nico has also fallen for his fair share of traps, being used as a means to get to Percy.

And Percy has been able to talk Nico down time and time again. Nico's loyalty to one group or another is always being questioned.

So, in other words, another way Percy can defeat Nico is by using Talk No Jutsu.

No no no, you don’t understand.

When it comes down to it, Percy can hardly win against Nico.

Okay I’m definitely taking bias here bc srsly, who in Riordanverse I love more than Nico anyway, but let’s humor me a little, shall we?

A hypothesis: Nico turns evil and Percy is put to stop him.

Firstly, their fighting style. Nico’s swordsmanship is assumed to be taught by Minos and skeleton soldiers, whereas Percy’s is taught by Luke. That’s a difference in varieties right there. Nico fights like… no one, while Percy would most likely follow a particular style, with patterns and such. Nico has a certain element of surprise.

Their purposes. Percy fights to protect. Nico fights to survive. Yes ofc he fights to protect those he loves too, but he has this survival mode which enables him to take advantage of everything, and I mean everything, to win.

Yes, I’m talking about dirty tricks. Because when it comes to life and death, moral means nothing. Nico is the kind that would do the things he needs to do to get work done. He can be cunning, cold, devious. He has literally murdered people for gods’ sake.

Whereas Percy is, literally, a hero. Yeah he has his own demigod instincts too. But can he use it against his own friends? He’s terrified of himself for killing Anklys. It’s a scenario wherein Nico would go all out, tearing his way to get what he wants when Percy has his own morals to keep. It’s unbalanced.

Percy couldn’t kill Luke. And definitely not a Nico towards whom he still bear guilts.

You’re gonna say that Nico has an, ah, affection for Percy, too, which may hinder his actions. However, believe me when I say guilts are much more resilient than romantic attractions. And love can turn into hate, mind you.

Taking in account of their powers, Nico posses a ridiculously wide range of abilities. All of which can be utilized in combat, and Nico knows it.

Firstly, Nico has shadow-travel. Which literally disables any attempt to get a grasp of his actions. If he wants something in somewhere, he would be one of the firsts to get it - with a proper plan, ofc. It would be like a race in which he literally jumps through space while you have to travel by feet. And when it’s you who has to stop him, Nico can prolong your encounter all he wants.

Nico controls ghosts. Now, ghosts and living beings are, without a doubt, completely different. Ghosts don’t have blood. Ghosts can’t be touched. Ghosts can clip through walls. Lord above I honestly can think of barely anyway to defeat them. Nico can simply tell the ghosts o terrorize one’s mind and they would finish it with ease.

In the other hand, Percy is capable of controlling every kind of liquid, blood included.

However, Percy needs to concentrate hard enough to get a hold of someone’s circulation. And gods forbid Nico would stay still at one place to let him do it. Nico’s strong points are literally agility and speed, which can be countered by an AOE attack, for ex., Percy summoning a tsunami to sweep the whole arena and catch Nico in the process, that kind of attack. But again, Nico’s capable of cracking open the ground, and earth absorbs water. So he can either raise a wall of dirt or opening a crack to swallow the whirlpool.

Did I mention Nico’s freaking soul-sucking, insta-ghosting Stygian Iron sword because it’s hella terrifying, btw. That alone is a force to be reckoned with. A cut and you soul is gone. It’s insane.

And Percy would have a hard time disarming him bc while Riptide re-appears in his pocket, Nico’s sword just comes from… thin air? Gods I can’t believe this.

And not just his sword btw, Nico can insta-ghost people. Ridiculously over power.

So technically, if you let him touch you for too long, you’re officially gone. Dead. Game over. You lose.

Ofc he would have to concentrate hard to do it, too. And while one may argue that Percy would wriggle his way out of the hands of a few skeletons, but if you take in account how Reyna tokes on the crossfire when Nico erased Bryce, Nico’s darkness can… weaken people? His pains, his sufferings can be used as a weapon. His aura kills off grass, you can’t possibly tell me it wouldn’t work on a demigod, now can you?

And because it’s Percy, they’re not just simply another’s pain. It’s Nico’s. And Percy has always been guilty when it comes to one Nico di Angelo, believing all those sufferings and anguish has something to do with his mistakes. And because Percy is loyal to a fault, the guilt would only amplify the agony.

Nico’s main weak point is his low stamina. So when it comes down to it, the problem is that whether Percy can prolong the fight enough to get him weakened or not. Provided that he doesn’t fall into any crack and into the Tartarus. That he doesn’t get caught by any zombie hands. That he doesn’t get drown in Nico’s waves of pains. And that Nico doesn’t just… leave. Log out in the middle of the game so that Percy wouldn’t get his win.

End of story.

I have a chem test in less than 12 hours and i’m here writing this essay I can’t believe this.

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE ONES IN THE BACK

how come Apollo was punished for Octavian but Ares wasn't punished for helping Luke with the lighting bolt?

I rage quit HOO because of the Gaea stuff.

In my eyes it crossed into some misogynistic stereotypes of abuse especially considering the Sally plot line earlier.

Part of me wonders if I'm bring too sensitive or if Rick genuinely has issues with women that don't meet his definition as acceptable.

Once again maybe it hit me at a bad time and I'm accusing so don't take this as an allegation please.

He literally calls Gaea a psycho for wanting to overthrow an abusive husband and save her children when a decade earlier, he wrote Sally doing the same thing.

Rick Riordan is quite inconsistent with his writing, so it's no surprise, but it's still pretty sad considering how popular he is.

And no, you're not too sensitive. Rick Riordan does have issues with women that don't meet his standards. Athena, Aphrodite, Hera, Demeter, Artemis-he ruined all of them for no reason.

He glorified Annabeth's bad behavior and doesn't give her arc a proper ending or talk about her issues. He vilified girls who like makeup and dresses-Hylla literally says that she wore makeup and dresses as a bad thing and the narrative never called her out on it.

The way he treats Aphrodite's cabin in general is terrible-and Piper Mclean is also terribly written.

HOO in general is a terrible series with atrocious retcons and horrendous characterisation with a few good moments.

Don't worry, the wording of this doesn't read as an allegation. You're on anon as well, so it shouldn't be a problem for you if by some catastrophic chance an idiot happens to think that it is, they'll only have me to point at ;)

Solangelo first meet rewrite-making it better

So, I've been thinking, and I really think that Will should've strongly and firmly advised Nico, but never ordered him. And in case you're wondering what I mean, just read this-

Will blew out a breath. 'Nico.......listen, can I tell you something?'

Nico frowned at the healer. 'What?'

'I'm a healer. And when I touched your hand........well, I've never felt so much darkness.'

Nico raised his eyebrows. 'And?'

'And, simply put, in my medical opinion-' here Will held up his hands, palms facing Nico, '-you're in no shape to shadow travel anywhere, much less that tent. One more shadow slip and you'd never come back. I strongly advise you not to shadow travel anymore as an experienced healer and probably the best camp medic.'

'But the camp is about to be destroyed. My powers are necessary to defeat the Romans!'

'We can stop the Romans without your powers. I'm pretty sure of it. We can do it our way-Lou Ellen can control the Mist. We'll sneak around, do as much damage as we can to those onagers. I very, very strongly advise you not to travel shadow again in the next few hours. Literally.'

Nico snarled. 'Are you ordering me not to use my powers?'

Will Solace glared daggers at him.

'Nico di Angelo. Don't ever say that to me.'

His tone make Nico stop and stare.

'I'm a healer. I'm a combat medic. And I give great medical advice. But one thing that I'm never supposed to do is order someone not to do something. Patient consent is always necessary, and doctors aren't allowed to do something that the patient doesn't want even if they're at the risk of dying. So I can give you very strong advice that I think you should follow, but one thing I'll never do is demand that you follow orders. I don't even know the extent of your powers, but right now I'm pretty sure you couldn't summon a wishbone without melting into a puddle of darkness, but if you think that your powers will help us? By all means go ahead. Please, just remember.........keep yourself safe out there. And you're not the only fighter in Camp Half Blood. There are more experienced fighters and magic users than you are, and we're all working overtime to defeat the Romans. You're not the only one fighting this battle.'

Nico stared at Will Solace. He'd never imagined that Will could be like this-sure, he had seen him in action, the best combat medic in Manhattan, but he'd never thought that he could be so firm or even say something that was actually true.

Nico wasn't the only one fighting this battle. There were Hecate kids, and even Clovis could make people fall asleep in battle, which was more dangerous than it sounded. There were so many magicians and fighters both on the frontlines and back in the camp, and all of them were doing their part too.............

dawn and dusk

“Hide me hide me hide me hide me hide me.”

Nico blinks, watching blankly as Will ducks under his arm, situating himself behind the door and peeking around it. When Nico doesn’t move, he cranes his neck to look at him, face urgent, and says, “Close it, dude, hurry up!

“Solace!”

“Fuck,” Will curses.

Nico blinks again. He squints across the common, trying to suss out what Will’s staring at. It doesn’t take long. She’s hard to miss, especially in full armour.

“Are you…hiding from Clarisse?”

“Am I hiding from —” He scoffs. “No, I’m just behind this door for fun. Fucking obviously I’m hiding from Clarisse, Nico, now get with the program and close the damn —”

“Solace!”

Both of them jump. When Nico looks, Clarisse is already way closer than she should be. Before he can process enough to slam the door, and heedless of Will’s increasingly-harried oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods fuck fuck fuck fuck, Clarisse is closer, and closer, and then suddenly she’s barging inside, pushing Nico aside like it’s not his damn cabin.

Will groans. “Aw, come on, Clarisse!”

She doesn’t bother to humour him with words, choosing instead to grab him by the collar and drag him bodily out. Will does not make it easy, going completely limp and getting his clothes grass-stained beyond belief, because Clarisse tugs him along like a sled behind her, bouncing over every stone. Nico follows, on the grounds that it’s not being nosy if Will dragged him into it technically.

“You have siblings! You have a boyfriend!”

“And yet I’m choosing you,” Clarisse says easily. “I’ve already told Chiron. It’s a done deal, weatherboy. You’re chariot racing with me.”

Will groans, trying in vain to squirm out of Clarisse’s grip. “There is no reason for me to be your partner in the stupid chariot race, I am a healer, I am at camp to heal —”

She shakes him a little to shut him up. “All the more reason. You focus too much on one thing, brat. All you do is heal and study like a big nerd. You need to get out of your comfort zone.”

“Um, no way. I’m very comfortable in it. That’s why it’s called a comfort zone.”

“You could use some training,” Nico pipes up, and the betrayed look Will gives him would be more effective at making him feel bad if it wasn’t so funny. “Last time I tried to teach you how to use a sword you almost sliced off your own face, so.”

Clarisse looks at him with appraisal. “Maybe you do have some sense in you, di Angelo.”

Nico chooses to take that as the compliment it is.

“Ugh,” Will says dramatically, and finally manages to wrench out of Clarisse’s grip in order to embed the appropriate level of drama in his face-down flop to the floor.

Clarisse kicks him. “You’re pathetic.”

“Ugh.”

Notably, he stops protesting. She kicks him again, affectionately this time, and stomps away.

———

“If I work myself into another coma, I don’t have to chariot race,” Will says gleefully, shoving the bottles of nectar Nico hands him onto a shelf. He’s been buzzing around the infirmary all day, healing things he is meant to be healing with a band-aid and a stop being a clumsy dumbass, dumbass with hymns and salves. “I’m gonna try to cure cancer again.”

Kayla, walking by, reaches out and smacks him. “Try it and I’m crack your country CDs in half.”

Will turns to her, opening his mouth —

“Every single one of them,” she stresses, green eyes narrowed.

— and closes it again, huffing.

“I’ll find a way,” he says glumly.

Nico pats him delicately on the back. “There, there.” A pause. “I mean, personally, I can’t wait to watch you fall out of a chariot.”

The look Will shoots him is nothing short of wounded. “You think I’m so uncoordinated I’m gonna fall out of the chariot?”

“Gracefully!” assures Austin from across the infirmary, smiling supportively. He grins brightly when they turn to look, nose scrunching with the force of his smile. “I’m sure!”

Will’s scowl twitches in the face of his brother’s blind enthusiasm. (It is impossible not to be endeared by Austin. He is genuinely the sweetest kid in the entire universe. Nico even gets, to his horror, the occasional urge to squish him. Gently.) He sighs.

“Thanks, Austin.”

“Of course! Love you Will!”

The twitching scowl melts into a full smile. “Love you too, kiddo.”

———

Watching chariot race practices, very quickly, becomes Nico’s favourite pastime.

He sees, now, why Achilles would bring them up, unprompted, wistful look in his eye, every time Nico visited. There’s a beauty in the rawness of it; the whipping winds, wild horses. Squealing wheels and bending axels, open-backed and inches from death at all time. Dangerous, exhilarating. Humanity, at it’s most thrilling and old — some of the first tools, the first domestic animals, the first machines, all at once. It’s pure, raw excitement.

Also, Will falls out of the chariot, like, eight whole times. And there’s nothing funnier than watching him lose his shit at a splintered pile of wood that was once a carriage, helmet thrown to the ground in a fit of rage, accent so thick he’s literally incomprehensible. Nico never gets to see him like this. His stomach actually hurts from laughter on several occasions.

Slowly, though, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s smart — incredibly so — and when he stops spending half his time complaining, and the other half pouting, he actually gets pretty decent. He’s fast, after all, and quick to observe, to respond; the other teams struggle to land hits on him, in practice runs, and sabotage is difficult when your opponent seems to have an almost prophetic gift to see things coming.

He can’t, however, steel himself to hit back.

And therein lies the trouble.

“For fuck’s sake, Will, I’m not asking you to kill anybody,” Clarrise snaps. “You need to get your head in the game!”

Will’s shoulders curl defensively. “I know! I’m trying! It’s just —” He kicks at their broken wheel, in two clean pieces on the ground. “Do no harm.”

“Do some harm. Or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Will brightens. “And then ask somebody else to be your partner?”

“No, and then make you my partner forever.”

“Oh.”

Will’s sullen face is hard to look at. He’s got those big, puppy dog eyes, round and sad and pouty. Not even Clarisse is immune. (And certainly not Nico, who finds himself halfway off the spectator’s stands and jogging to the tracks before he wonders what exactly, the fresh fuck, he is doing, and sprints right back.)

“Shit, Solace, don’t look like I killed your goddamn mother.” She cuffs him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling with a muffled oof. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go again.”

Accepting the spare chariot someone wheels towards her, she pulls herself up, making space for Will to do the same. He doesn’t get on immediately, still looking miserable, but concedes eventually.

His forearms look kind of nice when he grips onto the rails for dear life, Nico notices. From a totally objective perspective.

The four practicing teams guide their horses to the starting line, running a few last minute checks. To avoid spilling any secrets or strategies, everyone uses the same practice-issue wooden chariot and wears the same armour, but it’s still obvious who’s who.

The Hephaestus team’s chariot, despite being standard issue, gleams like it’s brand-new. The wood is polished and looks to be altered, barely; a carved groove here, a sharper wing there. Nothing that could really be considered an upgrade, but definitely making the whole thing look smoother. The spears they hold promise a plethora of untold ability hidden within.

The Hermes chariot looks deceptively beat up. There’s a chunk missing from the top of the left side, and one of the wheels appears to be just slightly out of alignment. Upon careful inspection, though, Nico can see clear, hollow tubing attached along the rails and open to the back — definitely a quick rig of some sort. Base (not acid, Cecil had happily lectured him on the benefits of using a base rather than an acid when dissolving anything from steel to human flesh), if Nico has to guess, or maybe Greek fire.

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot doesn’t have to do much to look great. The whole thing seems to coast gracefully to the beginner line, and neither charioteer looks particularly bothered or preoccupied with the competition — if Nico recalls correctly, and he does, their goal is to win through “gay audacity”, which Nico does not understand but supports wholeheartedly.

Will and Clarisse’s chariot, by comparison, is pretty run-of-the-mill. They haven’t done much training with the Ares horses or the Apollo flying chariot, because Clarisse is primarily concerned with training Will — she knows the equipment is fine.

Lacy, standing at the edge of the track, puts a sparkly pink whistle to her lips and blows loudly. It’s not nearly as loud as one of Will’s sonic whistles, but it does the trick, and the teams are off in a blur of movement; Will and Clarisse in the lead, Hephaestus behind them, Aphrodite-Iris in third, and Hermes lagging slightly behind.

As they turn their first corner, positions largely unchanging, Nico hears footsteps from his left — Lou Ellen smiles at him as she climbs the stand, settling into the space he makes next to him.

“What’d I miss?” she asks, brushing dust off her hands.

He shrugs. “Not much. They were in the lead the last practice round, too, but on the last lap Hermes caught up.” He gestures to the heap that was once their practice chariot. “Julia had her sword at their wheels. They were on the inner ring, nowhere to move; the only way to get rid of them would have been to knock her arm, probably dislocate her shoulder. Will couldn’t do it.”

Lou Ellen winces. “Ah.”

There’s a ripping sound, followed by cackling — the Hermes chariot has finally made use of their hasty rigging, setting off an explosion behind them that rockets them forward. It has the added bonus of shaking the ground, slightly, unsettling the other drivers for just barely long enough for them to pull into third place. Far ahead, still in first, Nico can see Clarisse yelling instructions at Will, although he can’t hear what they are. His grip on the rail has tightened.

“Why,” starts Nico carefully, and based on Lou Ellen’s pinched face she knows exactly where he’s going, “does she make him — well, you know.”

Lou Ellen is silent for a good long while, watching the practice chariot race with eyes that aren’t paying attention. Hermes is gaining, but Hephaestus is gaining faster.

“Clarisse has always liked Will,” she says eventually. She meets Nico’s incredulous expression, snorting. “Well, as much as Clarisse can like people. I got here way after he did, so I don’t have any more details there than you do, but he’s never been afraid of her, and she likes that. He’s never been mean to her, either. I mean, I know she can be a bully, but people aren’t exactly light on her, to be fair.”

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot turns out to have some tricks up its sleeve — it starts to glow; barely at first, but quickly blinding. At its crux, everyone has to look away, allowing them to pull into first.

Well, except that Will doesn’t seem nearly as staggered as everyone else. In fact, he doesn’t look bothered at all — for the first time that Nico has seen, there’s something like competition pulling a crooked smile on his face. He stares straight at the still-too-bright chariot, reigns wrapped around his arms as he yanks them forward.

“Is that why she drags him away sometimes?” Nico asks. “To train?”

“Something like that. Most of his training was with —” she falters. “Well, you know who. Medicine and some archery.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Neither of them ever knew Lee or Michael well, if at all, but over time Nico has found himself almost clamming up at the mere thought of them, the way one might tiptoe around an authority figure when they have something to hide. Forbidden subjects, where before Nico simply didn’t think of them often.

“You can’t just not train, though,” Lou Ellen murmurs, eyes trained on the chariots. Hephaestus throws one of their spears, lodging it in the spokes of the Aphrodite-Iris chariot. They come to a very abrupt and very screechy halt, knocking them out of the race in any real capacity. “Not at Camp Half-Blood. She taught him hand-to-hand because she was the only one strong enough to physically drag him to the arena. Everyone else gave up after the first few tantrums — I think she was kind of amused by the challenge. Or something.”

“Or something,” Nico agrees. Privately, he thinks that there is something about Will Solace that makes you want to protect him. Not frailty — he is not by any means incapable — but something about his smile, his genuineness. The stubborn belief that people are good and kind and worthy of everything he has to give. A naivety, except someone who’s been through what he has (what they all have) cannot be naive — his hope in the world is hard-earned and well-won. It makes people want to protect his hold on it, by any means necessary.

Even, Nico reasons, ornery old fuckers like Clarisse LaRue.

The three remaining chariots start the last leg of the race — Apollo-Ares, barely squeezing out in front; then Hephaestus, quickly gaining; and finally Hermes, lagging slightly but not to be discarded. As they round the bend, Nico watches as Clarisse cuffs Will briefly on the arm, clearly proud. This is the farthest they’ve made in first so far, after two weeks of training. Will, reigns safely transferred back to Clarisse, beams at her — bright enough that Nico can see it from dozens of yards away.

With sudden, calculated speed, the Hephaestus chariot surges forward.

As if coordinated, Nico and Lou Ellen inhale sharply, leaning forward. He sees the scattered few other campers so the same in his peripherals, watching with single minded focus as the chariot levels exactly with Will and Clarisse. Nico eyes the spear nervously — of all weapons, they’re the easiest for Will to dodge, to fight off. More impersonal.

But the sons of the smartest god around would know that.

For at least a hundred feet, nothing happens. Ares-Apollo and Hephaestus stay neck in neck, every urge forward matched, every pesky road-blocking stone avoided. The finish line is dangerously close, but no one pulls ahead, nothing changes. Four shoulders remain tense, four helmets stare resolutely forward.

Then, in a quick movement, the taller Hephaestus charioteer hands the spear off to the shorter, swiftly taking the reigns, and the shorter lunges — aiming right for Will’s shoulder. Will’s quick, though, and has his own spear poised to parry in an instant. There’s a barely perceptible nudge from Clarisse, and then Will’s eyes harden, and he lifts his spear to jab right back, needle-thin tip gleaming in the late afternoon sun, right for the chink in the charioteer’s armour and then —

The charioteer rips their helmet off, dropping it at their feet.

It’s Harley.

Hephaestus’ darling; hell, the camp’s darling. One of their youngest and brightest, with big, mischievous brown eyes, contagious smiles, endless enthusiasm. Cute, clumsy Harley, the only one of Hephaestus’ children Will doesn’t have to nag to get treated, who walks dutifully over the infirmary every time he gets so much as a second-degree burn and treats each one of Will’s overcautious instructions with utmost seriousness. Who Will sends away each time with an affectionate kiss on the forehead and a prized purple sucker — who Will, frankly, favours. Who Will would never, in a million years, even consider hurting.

A dirty trick by the Hephaestus cabin.

But an effective one.

Immediately, Will flinches back, spear dropping from his hand and splintering under thundering hooves and spinning wheels. Without a second of hesitation, Harley launches his spear in the same move as before — sticking it in the wheel’s spokes, inertia sending the charioteer’s sprawling, knocking them out of the race.

Except, maybe it’s different when the chariots are so close. Or maybe the chariot was faulty to begin with. Because as soon as the spear gets wedged, the fragile floor of the chariot seems to implode — sending Will and Clarisse under the still-moving machine, instead of flying over. The horses, disoriented from the sudden change, rip free of their harness, adding more force to the already precarious tumble.

There’s a sharp, sickening crack, so loud Nico can hear it as if it’s next to him. In the brief nanosecond immediately afterwords, he closes his eyes, sending a prayer to his father: please be the axle. Please be the axle. Please be the axle.

As the Hephaestus and Hermes chariots rocket past the finish line, Clarisse lets out a shrill, blood-curdling scream.

———

Nico’s off the bench and halfway towards the crashed chariot before he can blink. He’s not the only one — he processes, barely, everyone else’s quick convergence, including the remaining charioteers — but he’s there first, diving into the wreckage seconds before anyone else is close enough.

There’s not a lot of actual debris, chariots being as small as they are, but the dust cloud from the track is so huge and the pieces of wood are so splintered that it feels like there is. As the dust settles, and he kicks some debris out of the way, he starts to see the shape of Will, kneeling, in front of a prone Clarisse and an ever-growing pool of blood.

There’s a bone sticking straight out of her thigh.

As the rest of the campers converge upon them, Will looks up and meets Nico’s eyes. His own blue eyes are dark, steely — determined, but afraid.

“I don’t have time,” is the only thing out of his mouth before he braces both hands on Clarisse’s leg, immediately starting to sing urgent hymns.

Nico understands.

“Lou, Julia, Chiara,” he barks, taking charge in absence of Will’s voice. The three girls snap forward to him immediately. “Sprint the the infirmary and tell them what happened. Austin’s on duty — make sure he doesn’t come with you, we need him to prep a surgical suite. Send everyone else and send them fast. Bring a stretcher.”

He turns to the Hephaestus kids. “Jake, Harley, start clearing the debris to make space. Damien, join them; move the big stuff first, small stuff is secondary. We need a space for Will to work and a space to lay the stretcher. Jen, Butch, Lacy —”

He barks off a list of orders, doing his best to channel the commands he’s watched Will give dozens and dozens of times. In minutes, he has the track cleared, Will’s medical bag dragged over from the stands, and everyone who is not helping stabilize out to the infirmary to help as needed.

As soon as there’s an opening, he rushes over to Will and Clarisse, kneeling by her head.

“Help is coming,” he promises, watching the glow dim and flicker in time with the rhythm of Will’s chanting. The bleeding has slowed, marginally, but he can tell from the volume of blood alone that this was an arterial hit. It’s going to take more than Will’s raw healing power, although there is a lot of it, to keep Clarisse alive and keep her leg functioning in recovery. He needs tools, he needs nectar and ambrosia; he needs the surgery suite. He needs time.

“Is it helpful for me to knock her out?”

Clarisse, of course, is still conscious. Barely — and in so much pain Nico will be surprised if she’s processing anything at all — but enough that every few seconds she lets out an agonised shout of pain, writhing and flinching so hard Will has to focus on steadying her as much as healing her.

Without breaking his song, eyes still trained on the injury, Will nods. Nico breathes, squaring his shoulders, then shuffled forward to rest Clarisse’s head gently in his lap, fingers pressed to her temples. He presses, hard enough to feel the beat of her heart — weak — through his fingertips, and squeezes his eyes shut.

He’s no son of Hypnos, but dreams are the Underworld’s domain. Are his domain, as heir and prince of the Underworld, in every way that matters, that can be counted.

He lets himself sink into careful limbo; body in physical space, mind and soul elsewhere. Not too much — he’s no use if he falls unconscious — but enough to slip into Clarisse’s mindscape, step into her subconscious.

The whole place bleeds white, hot anguish.

Nico stumbles when he first walks in, nauseous despite being nothing but his own mind. It’s been a while since he’s experienced this kind of pain, his own or not, and he has to consciously beat back memories of brimstone and rot; liquid fire, endless red, red, red.

“Clarisse?” he calls, softly as he dares.

She doesn’t respond. He’s not sure she knows how to respond, even if she could. Cautious of the memory and emotion swirling around him, he steps forward. If he focuses, her anguish is pointed — is central. She will be at the centre of it.

He has volunteered, but he’s not sure he wants to follow.

Steeling himself, he shoulders through swirling masses of pain, of hurt, of fear. It’s blisteringly hot, and feels not unlike the sandstorm he was once stranded within, in the middle of the New Mexico desert four years ago. His face prickles; he’s blinded.

He trudges forward.

“Clarisse? Clarisse! Can you hear me? It’s Nico!”

Desperately and uselessly, he wishes he had more practice. Will has offered, the few times he’s needed to anaesthetize someone, but for the most time Nico has foolishly declined. Why on Earth he would pass up a much easier mindscape to navigate through in preparation for something like this is a mystery to him. Fuck.

“Clarisse! Try to — focus on me, can you hear me?”

He forces himself forward, a few more — well, there’s no distance in a mindscape, nothing measurable, anyway. He forces himself to look up, braving the assault to his face, and try to scan his surroundings. The swirling mass is more centralized, now, almost hurricane-like and conal. He’s closer than he was before, but if he can only find…

He looks up, and almost cries in relief: weak against the roaring storm, but still present, is a flickering, golden light. A very familiar light. Nico squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting out his own energy in an uncoordinated mass — boy, is that going to be uncomfortable to extract later — and flails wildly until he finally feels the warmth of Will’s energy entangling with his own, grounding him. He opens his eyes, and suddenly everything is clearer.

Clarisse kneels in the centre of her mindscape, hands pressed tightly to her ears, eyes screwed shut, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Hey,” Nico murmurs, kneeling in front of her. It takes a few seconds, and a few moments of gentle coaxing, before she looks up.

“It hurts,” she croaks.

She’s more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her — eyes brown and big and wet, pained, face twisted and chin trembling and achingly, unbelievably young. She is nineteen years old, but in that moment she appears almost childlike. The years of warrior’s hardness has abandoned her; she is armourless.

Nico swallows the lump in his throat. “I know.”

“Help me. Please.”

“Come here, Clarisse.” He reaches out and wraps a gentle hand around hers, tugging her close. The knee jerk discomfort at close contact is barely a flicker — he is so entwined in her right now that her fear has started to bleed into his; her rawness. He needs this comfort almost as much as she does. Right now she is a person, in agony, and so is he, and it is unbearable.

He holds her until the pain slowly stops.

———

Will is in the surgical suite for seven straight hours.

“Bed,” Nico says softly, rising up to meet him as he exits. It says something about how exhausted he is that he doesn’t even protest, letting Nico place a hand on the small of his back and guide him past the on-call room, past the patient cots, past the Big House living room couches, past Cabin 7. He leads him across the common and right into Cabin 13, with its double beds and blackout curtains, with its insulated, soundproof walls. With Nico.

He helps him out of his bloodstained scrubs, peeling them off his skin and tossing them directly into a trash can. He’d guide him to the shower, usually, but there’s a — glassiness, to his eyes, that there usually isn’t after surgery. Nico chooses instead to skip it, guiding him into the sweatpants he left behind the last time he was here and an oversized The Doors t-shirt of Nico’s, and then to the spare bed he always uses, across from Nico’s. He peels the covers back for him like he’s a child, tucking him in, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He’s asleep in minutes, curled tightly around a pillow, furrowed crease not leaving the space between his eyebrows, even in sleep. Nico smooths it away with his thumb.

“Goodnight, Will,” he murmurs, brushing the backs of his knuckles across his forehead.

He watches him sleep far past what is normal, and then slips back out of the cabin.

———

“On the bright side,” Will says, squeezing the hand that has left to leave Clarisse’s arm, “you’re free from your chariot race obligation! As am I!”

Predictably, she only glowers.

“Not a chance, Solace,” she rasps.

Will helpfully gets her a glass of water, fussing over her blankets while she drinks until she bats him away. Chris watches the whole thing with great amusement, shoulders brushing Nico’s.

“He’s a mother hen, isn’t he,” he comments, tilting his head in Will’s direction, who narrowly avoids having his fingers bitten off trying to feed her a square of ambrosia.

Nico snorts. “Yeah.” He watches the fussing for a few more seconds, making note of Will’s shaking hands, his shakier smile. “He’s guilty.”

“He didn’t do anything. She doesn’t blame him.”

Nico meets his dark look, mouth twisted in understanding. They both know this logic is futile.

“Yeah, well, someone tell him that.”

“Will — stop it.” In a startlingly quick move for someone on as much morphine as she is, Clarisse darts out and clutches Will’s fluttering hands. He hesitates, wondering if it’s worth it to pull out of her hold and possibly jostle her leg. “I’m fine. And you’re still charioting.”

“You’re not fine,” Will frowns, conveniently ignoring the part of the sentence he doesn’t want to deal with. “Your femur snapped in half and tore through your femoral artery on its way out of your leg. You’re going to be on bedrest for a week at least, and it’ll be tender for a good long while besides. That’s what we in the medical business call a Big Fucking Deal.”

She tightens her hold, staring at him until he finally meets her eyes.

“Will.” She narrows her eyes. “You are still participating in the chariot race. I’m not asking.”

“It’ll have to wait until you’re better,” he says lightly. “Besides, we’re focusing on you right now.”

Nico can see in her face when she decides to switch strategies.

“Okay,” she says, stubborn glean in her eye, “then I’m asking you, as a personal request, to stay in the race. Or else I’ll drag myself onto a goddamn horse myself, killing myself in the process, and that will be on your head.”

The tactic works.

Will scowls. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Clarisse doesn’t bother repeating herself, letting go of his wrists and readjusting her blankets.

“I am done talking now. I believe it’s time for morphine-induced unconsciousness. Please remember that I took down a drakon with my own bare hands; it is well within my abilities to drag myself out of heroin-haze and onto a chariot with no legs, let alone one. Good talk.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she leans back on her pillows and passes out. Genuinely, actually passes out — not closes her eyes, not behind to fall asleep; she is unconscious. Snores ring through the air.

“Well,” Chris says carefully, unfolding his arms. “It might be time to let Clarisse rest for a while.”

Will, healer that he is, cannot exactly argue with that. Will, drama queen that he is, decides to make his fury known by stomping out of the room, a feat in flip-flips possible by him alone.

“She is so infuriating!” he shouts the second they’re in the main room, startling several people. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “I put effort in! I failed! She can’t even — it’s not even about spending time together, obviously, since I still have to do it! What does she want from me?!”

Chris, like Nico, has wisely decided to let the hypothetical questions remain hypothetical and stay silent, lest his fury be turned onto them. Ten minutes into Will’s rant, Chris excuses himself to go sit by Clarisse. Nico waves him off.

“Will,” Nico suggests the next time he takes a breath, “let’s maybe go for a walk.” He glances at the group of wide-eyed patients. “I think you’re scaring people.”

Deflating, Will nods, following Nico out the door. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go for a walk.”

The fresh air probably doesn’t fix things, per se, but as they lap around the cabins, Will seems to droop further and further, curling in on himself. The anger recedes from his features.

“I feel really shitty,” he admits softly. “Just, like, generally.”

Nico softens like a goddamn slab of ice cream on hot pavement. For the second time in three days, he opens his arms in offering, although this time it’s significantly less difficult.

“Come here.”

Without even a beat of hesitation, Will collapses into him, arms around his waist, head tucked under his chin. Nico fights the urge to wince — Will, usually, takes quite a bit of pride in his height. He likes to be the one to wrap around people, not the other way around. Nico has been indoctrinated into Will-affection, in the time since the Giant War, and if Will is the one curling into him, seeking comfort, than he is struggling.

Nico hates it when Will struggles. He always feels out of his depth.

“There, there,” he hedges, feeling a good bit like an NPC. “It’ll be okay.”

Will makes a small, wounded noise. “You don’t know that.”

“Um, yes I do, I know everything forever. I’ve never been wrong even one time in my life.”

His awkward attempt at lightening the mood is rewarded by Will’s laugh. It’s slight, and nowhere near the brightness it usually is, but it’s there and it’s genuine and that’s all Nico wanted, really.

“You good?” Nico asks softly, squeezing his arms.

Will nods. “Yes.” He hesitates. “Can I stay here a little longer?”

Nico wraps his arms impossibly tighter, aching at the quiet vulnerability in his voice.

“As long as you need.”

———

The last practice before the chariot race is nowhere near as fun to watch as the others. In fact, it’s not fun at all.

Clarisse, casted and upright, appoints her brother Sherman to race in her place, much to both his and Will’s very vocal complaints. Will’s, because he still doesn’t want to race at all and especially not now that Clarisse is out of the running, and Sherman’s because, well, when isn’t Sherman complaining about having to breathe the same air as someone or whatever.

Clarisse silences both of them with a glare. “Do it,” she orders.

They comply, stomping over to their practice chariot.

The practice race is awful. Nico is surprised, frankly, that they managed to finish at all, as badly behind as they managed. He could practically hear their squabbling all the way from the stands. For as much as Will is generally easy to get along with, he’s impossible when he’s stubborn, and worse when he’s petulant. He takes every command from Sherman like it’s a personal offence, and Sherman, being who he is, does too. Every shout to veer right or deflect an attack somehow sounds like a jab at Will’s speed, or a remark about his general intelligence. When they stomp off the track, helmets thrown in a heap with the rickety chariot, Nico is almost relieved.

“We’re going to lose, tomorrow, and I can’t wait,” hisses Will darkly, fists curled at his sides.

Nico watches him warily. “You’re not even going to try?”

“What, so he can remind me that even when I’m trying I’m a useless idiot? Not a chance.”

Nico has to almost jog to keep up with him, striding as powerfully as he is. He’s not even sure where he’s going — he seems to be, mostly, going away from the track and from Sherman, wherever that may be.

“You’re not a useless idiot,” Nico offers, when some of the stormcloud has lessened its hold on Will’s usually sunny face. “Nobody thinks you’re a useless idiot.”

Will closes his eyes, sighing. “I know.”

“And Sherman is just a generally grouchy person.”

“I know.”

“It feels very, very weird to be the optimistic and comforting one, right now.”

Will snorts, finally meeting his eyes. “I know.” He flops onto the ground, cheek resting in his knees, and pats the space next to him. Nico sits much more delicately. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately.”

“You’ve been stressed,” Nico points out. “A little assholery is warranted.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Nico knocks their shoulders together. “I forgive you, then.”

Will smiles. “Thank you.”

For a while they sit in comfortable silence, watching the hustle and bustle of camp. Will’s presence is a comforting one, even though Nico can feel the turmoil leeching off of him. Strangely because of that, actually — sometimes Nico feels like he’s the only one who struggles out of the two of them. Will spends so much of his time smiling and joking and lecturing, hands on his hips, that Nico had almost forgotten that he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, either. He’s just good at faking it.

“I’ll be watching, tomorrow.” He bites his lip. “And I won’t, like, bring pom-poms, or anything, but I’ll be cheering you on.”

Will grins tiredly. “Silently and in your head?”

“Uh-huh.”

His smile softens considerably, melting into something almost shy, before he turns back to face forward.

“Well, then, damn. I guess I’ll have to try.”

———

On the morning of the chariot race, Will acts like Nico is escorting him to his goddamn execution.

“It is a race that will last a maximum of twenty minutes,” Nico says with no small amount of exasperation, “including prep time.”

Will looks no less grim. “A twenty minutes that will never be returned to me.”

Nico rolls his eyes and decides to stop humouring him.

He drops him off at his chariot with a quick pat on the shoulder, jogging back to the stands. They’re full, today, as expected, with every camper and countless others cramped into the minimal space. Nico looks at the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, and is about to consider breaking his promise and fleeing back to his cabin before he sees a doodled-on hand stick in the air, waving wildly. He exhales in relief and heads over to sit in the spot Kayla and Austin have cleared between them.

“How miserable is he?” Kayla asks brightly, tapping her purple shoes. “He left before we woke up this morning. Assumedly to sprint around camp a few times like a feral cat.”

“Pretty miserable,” Nico answers. He reaches over to pat Austin’s head when he rests on his shoulder, knowing he’s nervous even if he tries not to show it. “A lot of it is self-induced, though. Like, yeah, Sherman is going to be a dick and it’s going to be stressful, but I feel like, in the grand scheme of things, this is among the least stressful things he’s ever been forced to deal with.”

“There was that one time he had to remove a brain tumour in the middle of the forest,” Austin muses. “I think that was probably pretty stressful for him.”

Nico opens his mouth. He closes it again.

“Demigod life is a nightmare,” he settles on eventually.

“Hear, hear,” both siblings mutter.

They lapse into silence as they turn back to the racetrack, evaluating the turnout.

Competition will be hefty.

Sherman has finally arrived, Ares horses in tow. The garish things look almost wrong next to the brightness off the flying Apollo chariot, but that may just be the tension between the team’s charioteers that’s so potent it seems to warp the air around them. Nico is vaguely surprised that they’re managing to stand so civilly next to each other, even if they could not be more visibly uncomfortable. Will, at least, tries for a smile, which drops immediately when Sherman mutters something too quiet to be picked up this far.

Nico sighs. This is going to be hard to watch.

There are about twenty other chariots lines up. Hermes, Hephaestus, and Aphrodite-Iris, like at practice, but Athena is competing too, as well as Nike, as per usual, and Tyche. In fact Nico, and by extension Hades, is one of the few cabins not participating — everyone else seems primed and ready for a chance of laurels and extra dessert. And, of course, settling personal rivalries via bloodshed, et cetera, et cetera.

The biggest competition, if Nico had to quantify it, will be Hephaestus, tricky as they were during practice; Athena, for obvious reasons; and Will and Sherman themselves will be their own worst enemy. He can’t tell if it would be better for them to fail out early to avoid racketing tension up further, or last close to the end to keep things at a healthy simmer.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. The second warning whistle goes off, and the chariots rush to the starting line — Will and Sherman at third position, Demeter to their left, Dionysus-Hypnos to their right. The stands go silent, the charioteers get in position, and with a sharp, shrill whistle, they’re off.

The first few seconds, as always, are chaotic.

In the ground with the settling dust are three separate chariots, including, surprisingly, Hermes, whose rigging backfired and sent their entire chariot up in smoke. They are luckily unharmed due to their unusually well-prepared fireproof armour, but neither Julia nor Connor seem too pleased about being out so soon.

The rest of the race continues on without them. Athena has a decent stretch of first place, but Nike is following fast. Behind them, barely a hair’s breadth of distance, is Will and Sherman, rocketing forward smoothly. Unlike Clarisse, Sherman does not care for giving Will any learning opportunities — despite the horses being Ares’, Will is on the reigns. Sherman is armed with his sword and his spear, slashing and jabbing at anyone who gets too close. Neither Ares or Apollo is big on tricks, not like some of the craftier cabins, but together they’re fast and strong and make a formidable opponent.

Or, well, they would. If they were working together, rather than two people simply being in the same chariot.

They cross into the second lap, Will guiding them across the innermost ring to move them up past Nike. They’re gaining on Athena, now, but that won’t be an easy task — challenging the camp’s wisest never is.

Kayla hisses through her teeth. “Shit.” She purses her lip at the trailing Nike chariot — they’re gaining, and they’re seething. Damien — at least Nico thinks it’s Damien, it’s hard to tell with the helmets — has an arsenal of throwing knives poised in his left hand, and as his teammate steers them steady, he takes aim. Nico has to resist the urge to shout a warning.

As the short knife sails towards the reigns wrapped around Will’s hands, though, aim ringing true, Will’s spine goes ramrod straight. Almost as if he can feel it. With an eighth of a second to spare, he shifts and jerks his hands out of the way, avoiding the knife and managing, somehow, to stay on track.

With a skill and ferocity that has Nico’s jaw brushing his toes, Will dodges all eight of the knives lobbed in his direction. In one memorable manoeuvre, he rips his left hand from the reigns, holding them in his teeth, and uses it to shove Sherman down behind the wall of the chariot right before a knife would have lodged itself in his uncovered cheek. Out of weapons, he steers their chariot right next to Nike, allowing Sherman to sever their reigns and send them rolling to a sad, victory-less stop.

Without pausing to look behind them, they race on.

Athena’s chariot has a lead, but their chariot is built for stability, not speed. They’ve accounted for every possible sabotage and built accordingly. They have not accounted for, however, stubbornness and sheer force of Will. The Ares-Apollo chariot gains on them, helmets glinting, skeletal horses gaining faster, faster, faster. Both Sherman and Malcom, Nico believes, have their spears drawn, ready, as the space between them gets smaller and smaller, to fight barbarically for first — for honour.

Nico doubts even Rachel, powers of prophecy fully restored, could predict what happens next.

Either too furious to accept a loss or simply deciding to throw the game, one of the Nike charioteers crawls out from their carriage, darting onto the live track. They scan the ground, looking for something. When they stand in the dead centre of the track, body perfectly tense, gripping something glinting in their hand, Nico gets it.

Austin gasps, nails digging into Nico’s arm. “Oh, no.”

Before anyone can say anything, they take aim. They measure once, twice, and then let the knife loose with deadly precision, knife cutting through the air with ease and hurdling with impossible power towards to two finalists chariots.

If the knife hits the Athena chariot, it will slice clean through the axle. Architectural wonder it may be, the chariot cannot withstand Celestial bronze at terminal velocity, and it will give, and the chariot will crumple. In an effort to lesson the chariot’s load, the Athena charioteers have largely forgone armour. Their fall will be painful and disastrous; as deadly as Clarisse’s, if not moreso. A hit to the Ares-Apollo chariot will be similarly as race-ending, but both Will and Sherman are in full armour. It will be bruising, but not deadly. They will lose, but they will survive.

All they need to do to win is shift, just slightly, so that the knife hits the Athena chariot.

Will, like with all the others before it, seems to feel this knife coming. Unlike the others, he glances backwards, looking at the knife, looking back at the Athena chariot. Sherman follows his gaze, and seems to realize what Will has calculated a split second after he does. He shouts something — presumably an order to move, to shift, to sabotage.

Will hesitates.

The knife hits the Ares-Apollo chariot, slicing through the left wheel.

It careens around, unbalanced, dragged into a heap by untethered horses.

The Athena chariot pulls forward to victory, the remaining functioning chariots quickly following.

The Ares-Apollo canon is left broken and humiliated only a few feet from victory, the almost-first-place.

———

As soon as they come off the track, things get messy. Both Will and Sherman are covered in dirt and grime, striped with grease from the broken wheels, bleeding sluggishly from various scraps. Sherman has his non-flailing hand clamped to an oozing wound on the side of his neck, and Will is limping.

“—and I cannot fucking believe you, Solace! All I asked for was effort!”

“Oh, forgive me,” Will says sarcastically, finally close enough to hear. “In the hustle and bustle of being shot at, I made a couple errors.”

“That gonna be your attitude in battle? ‘Oh, sorry, there was a monster chasing me so I lost all focus —’”

“Battles are not usually fought on a chariot going a hundred fucking miles per hour!”

“That’s no excuse! You need to be —”

“What, Sherman, fucking what? What indisputable flaw do I have, oh great one, that needs to be so desperately remedied?”

It’s startling when Will’s composure cracks. When he goes from bitey and sarcastic, eye-rolling from his usual distance, to right in Sherman’s face. It’s eerie to see him at his full height, no slouching, reminding anyone watching that yeah, actually, their laidback medic is six-two, strong, capable, in more ways than what they’re used to.

Sherman, in usual Ares kid fashion, doesn’t even flinch.

“Your reflexes, for starters,” he says coolly. “No matter what you do, Solace, you’re always one second too fucking late.”

A collective gasp ricochets through the gathered campers. The tension rackets up so rapidly that Nico coughs, lungs suddenly constricted. Will rears back so violently Nico is half-convinced Sherman actual punched him.

Sherman, for his part, seems to realise he’s crossed some kind of line. The cold look on his face twists into a scowl, uncomfortable and apologetic at once. “Look, Will, I just mean —”

“You don’t get to say that to me.”

Will’s quiet voice seems to echo through the entirety of the valley, cutting through laboured breathing of charioteers, pegasus neighing, even the crashing of the waves in the distant shore — everything goes silent.

Nico likes to think he knows Will pretty well. He knows what he sounds like when he’s giggly, watching his siblings argue about nothing; when he’s excitable, rambling about his newest obsession; when he can’t choose between amused and stern at whatever dumb thing Nico has gotten himself into. He knows what he sounds like when he’s exhausted, too, overworked and done with everything; when he’s annoyed, when he’s hurt and sad.

But he’s never heard Will sound so dangerous.

“Of all people.” His words are articulated, deliberate. The usual warmth of his eyes is gone. He’s completely still in a way he never is outside of surgery — no shaking in his perpetually trembling hands, no bounce to his curls, none of the constant energy that seems to constantly exude off him. Still, cold. Icy. “You do not get to talk to me about being one second too late.”

Sherman looks stricken. Guilt is written across each of his features, and for a second he steps back — as if afraid.

“Will, I —”

The son of Apollo turns without another word, striding over to the distant tree line and disappearing into the woods. No one chases after him.

No one even moves.

———

Predictably, the silence does not last long.

“You fucking idiot!” Clarisse explodes, the second Will is out of eyesight. She bats Chris’s hand away from her, and he, surprisingly, lets her go easily — his usually understanding face has hardened. She hobbles towards her brother, remarkably quick with her clunky cast, and starts truly tearing into him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing! One!”

Sherman quickly gets defensive under the scrutiny. “Well, you didn’t make it fucking easy! Just because he’s your protege doesn’t mean he’s my fucking problem —”

Nico doesn’t stick around to listen to their argument. He searches around the gathered crowd until he meets Kayla’s eyes, flicking his head towards the woods. She nods frantically. Knowing he’ll make sure they have privacy, he takes off, aiming for the same place Will went, barely slowing down once he enters the forest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Will?” he calls, well aware he’s not going to get an answer. “Where are you?”

While there’s definitely no response from Will, he damn near jumps out of his skin when a dryad melts from her tree, shuffling towards him.

“Blond boy?” she asks, leaning close so he can hear her whisper. “Tall? Crying?”

Nico swallows. Fuck. “Yeah.”

“Headed down southeast, ways past Zeus’ fist.“

“Thank you,” he says, hoping she understands how much he means it.

She nods, then disappears back into her tree.

Following her directions, Nico jogs down beaten paths, heading in the direction that he is vaguely sure is southeast and mostly praying that he’ll find Will eventually. He shouldn’t have that much of a head start, since Nico left maybe five minutes after he did, but who knows. Will’s fast, and sometimes this forest seems bigger than it really is. It’s easy to get lost.

He searches for what feels like hours, and might actually be hours; sky darkening as the sun disappears into the lake. The temperature drops significantly. Nico is hoping that he won’t be spending the night sleeping in the dirt when he hears sniffling.

Heart pounding, he freezes, focusing on the sound. It’s muffled, sobs choked-off and sound hidden behind cupped hands. The echo sounds strange, too; it’s close, that much is obvious, but Nico almost can’t tell if it’s coming from the left or the right. Truthfully, it doesn’t sound like either.

On impulse, he looks up. Almost invisible in the branches of a large oak tree is Will, stained clothes blending in with the scratchy bark, leaves covering the rest of him.

Except, perhaps fittingly, his bright, golden hair.

Worried that calling out to him might startle him right off the tree, Nico begins to climb. He’s not great at climbing — he doesn’t have a natural sense of what is and isn’t a good foothold — but oak trees are easy. Every half-step has a branch, and this tree is old enough that the branches are thick, sturdy. He’s twenty feet up before he even realizes, barely breaking a sweat.

He pauses a few feet shy of his target, straightening until he’s standing on an almost flat branch, arm looped tightly around the trunk.

“Will.”

Will startles. He looks around frantically, struggling in the dark, until his bloodshot eyes finally land on Nico. He bursts into more tears, shoulders shaking as he sobs.

Alarmed, Nico crawls all the way up.

“Woah, Will, breathe, vita, breathe —”

He’s not sure what tree-sobbing etiquette is, but regular sobbing etiquette often involves some kind of comforting physical touch, so he goes with that. And Will, he knows, likes to be crowded, likes to be almost suffocated with the sights and touch and smells of other people, to remind him he’s not alone, even if he feels it. So Nico scoots as closely as he dares, legs wrapped around the branch, and slides one arm around Will’s back, one against his chest, and tugs him closely.

Will comes easily.

With a bit of manoeuvring, he’s tucked under Nico’s chin, shoulders hunched and shaking, enveloped entirely in Nico’s arms. He can feel a wet spot growing on his left sleeve, and honestly he should be at least a little bit disgusted, but he barely even notices. He’s too busy fighting the lump in his own throat, blinking back his own tears.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Will’s curls. “Let it out, Will. You’re allowed.”

Will wails, a deep, choking, broken sound, and Nico loses the battle with his own tears. He’s never heard Will like this. He’s never heard anyone like this, except himself, in the echo of this same forest, years ago. It hurts like biting ice.

“It hurts, they’re gone, they’re gone, and I hate them, I hate them so much —” he heaves, dragging in breath like it cost him to say it, like part of his soul was dragged out of his vocal chords — “and I hate myself for hating them, I hate, they’re gone, I’m never —”

He dissolves into sobs, again, words breaking into nothing understandable, crying around the same repetitions over and over again. Nico hides his crumpling face in Will’s hair, wincing at every broken cry, every hitched breath, every moaned word. His heart feels like it’s breaking into a million fractals. He’s never felt so out of depth in his life.

“Let it out,” he whispers again, for a lack of anything else to say. “Let it out, sweetheart, let it out.”

For a long time, Nico had no one to hold him.

When he lost Bianca, he was by himself. And when he thought he had someone to guide him, someone to fix him, he was wrong — he was vulnerable and easy to manipulate. He had no one to hold him until he was too bitter and too closed off to let himself fall apart, anyway, and losing Bianca stayed somewhere rotten inside him, a bruise that never, ever stopped aching.

Until Will.

Last December he had cracked like an egg. He hadn’t meant to — it wasn’t even in the back of his mind — but he’d opened the door to Will’s smiling face on the morning, cold and sad as it was, and just started bawling. Some part of him, some deep, buried part, stomped it’s way from the prison Nico had kept it in and took the hell over, yanking open the floodgates, forcing him to expel every last drop of shadowy, strangling pain that had stayed inside him so long. He thought he was going to die. His entire body shook and jerked like a rowboat in a deep ocean storm, and it had been Will’s lighthouse, his endless, light eyes, his warm hands, his firm hold that had held him steady until he’d dragged himself out to the other side. It was and is the most painful thing he’d ever done in his life. And the most important.

He doesn’t think Will has had anyone to hold him, before, either. Not ‘til right this moment. Not Chiron, not his mother, and certainly not an older sibling. Will has been running on empty for as long as Nico has known him. Longer.

“Let it out,” Nico whispers again, and holds him tighter.

———

By the time either of them move again, it’s pale, early morning, and they’re damp from the dew and Will’s tears. Nico is as stiff as the tree he’s sitting on, but doesn’t dare say a word about it.

“I don’t want to go back,” Will croaks, the first either of them have spoken in hours.

Nico tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, resting a gentle hand on his cheek. “Okay.”

“We can’t stay here forever.”

“We can stay a while.” Nico pulls away slightly, just enough so that he can cradle Will’s face in both hands, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze. “I mean it, Will. As long as you need.”

“What if I’ll never have enough time?”

“Then I’ll stay with you until time runs out.” He presses a tentative, careful kiss to the centre of his freckled forehead; staying when Will shudders, leaning into it. Against his skin, he murmurs, “But you’ll have enough time, vita. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I don’t want to be strong.”

“So don’t, I gotcha.” He presses another kiss slightly above the first, and another, resting again at the crown of his head. “But you can be.”

They stay like that until Nico’s face starts to go numb, and even then he doesn’t go far, shifting so his cheek lays on the top of Will’s skull. He ignores the slight tickle of his curls against his nose, focusing instead on the brand of his hands on his waist, the shakey but constant inhales, holds, exhales, again, again, again.

“Clarisse is my friend,” Will starts. “She was as important to me as — as Cass, before the war.”

Nico hums. “But she betrayed you.”

“All of us.”

“And you resent her for it, a little.”

Will nods. “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s human, Will, Christ.” He moves them around so they’re both sitting facing each other, Nico’s eyes firmly meeting Will’s. “I will never fully forgive Percy for letting Bianca die. Never. It’s not fair to him, and I love him anyway, and I am choosing to move past it. But I will carry that burden. Am I disgusting for that?”

Will glances away. “No.”

“Will, you — look at me.”

He does.

“Clarisse actively chose her pride over her people. So did the rest of her cabin. She’s not fully responsible for that choice, and the blame, as always, lands on Kronos’ shoulders, but —” Nico laughs, a bitter, defeated sound. “Out of all of us, you lost the most. No one lost as many as Apollo. No one burned as many shrouds. You’re allowed to be hurt, allowed to be angry.”

“I forgave them,” Will admits. “I did it publicly and called off the stupid rivalry right after the war. It was the first thing I did as head counsellor.”

“Trying to do what Michael would have done?”

“Are you kidding me, he —” Will scoffs, swiping at the tears trickling down the corners of his eyes. “If Michael were alive, and he found out I forgave them after what happened to Lee, too Diana — he would have been furious. He would stop speaking to me. If I was trying to be like Michael, I might’ve refused them treatment.”

Nico tries to imagine that for a second — Will refusing anyone treatment. It makes something sour uncurl in his stomach, something unsettling.

“You would never refuse someone treatment. I didn’t even — I didn’t think you guys were allowed.”

Will shrugs. “There are no rules to our practice. I just never made refusal an option, and the kids are too young to know any different.”

‘The kids’ — as if Kayla and Austin aren’t as old or older than Will was when he was in charge, when he held the bashed pieces of his brother’s brain as it oozed out of his skull. As he sat, exhausted, hands shaking, next to Nico, and embroidered twelve shrouds. As if Yan and Gracie are his, rather than Apollo’s.

“You forgave them so your siblings wouldn’t grow up bitter,” Nico realises. “Oh, gods, Will.”

He shrugs again, picking at his nails. “For me too. Grudges aren’t healthy.” He tries for a teasing smile. “You’d know.”

“I would.” Nico tries to smile back. It’s easier than he thought it would be, although it fades back into something serious quickly. He reaches out, linking his hands with Will’s to stop him picking before he bleeds. “You can be selfish sometimes, you know.”

“Not in front of anyone.”

“You’re admitting it in front of me,” Nico points out.

Will hesitates. “That’s — different.”

“How?”

“You get it.” He looks down, voice quiet. “You get me. I can —” He meets Nico’s eyes again, a kind of helpless smile on his face. “I dunno. You’re safe. You’re okay with me, even when I’m ugly.”

“Even then,” Nico echoes quietly. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind Will’s ear again, even though none were loose. His fingertips linger, and the skin under his touch warms. “Especially then.”

“You can, too, you know, I lo —”

“I know.”

Will exhales in relief. “Good.”

He slumps forward until his forehead rests on the swell of Nico’s shoulder, breaths warming the air between them. Nico tries to match his rhythm — in, out, in, out. Hold. Out, in.

“Can we — hide here, for a little bit? Just a little longer.”

“Of course,” Nico murmurs, squeezing his wrists. “I’ll hide you as long as you need.”

⚡️ Sparky Boi ⚡️

wise girl!

GO BUY

NEOW

Hey y'all, I'm selling the last of my PJO stickers. Once they're gone, I won't be restocking them! Also they are on sale :]

There are 8 more designs that will be uploaded once these 4 run out, so I will update this post as product runs out + when the other stickers are uploaded.

You can find my stuff at pthalowares.bigcartel.com

See you there!

Never let Leo and Georgina get groceries with you, or else your in for a earful of bad jokes

I wrote Mama Mia! X PJO fic based around solangelo so enjoy before you cry over TSTATS

hi, I have a very chaotic headcanon of Percy Jackson I want to know if you support (it’s a long one that barely makes sense I’ve just decided this in my head because I like random ships and I also like not having my favorite character,Ethan Nacamara, die-)

so here we go:

Ethan when everyone thinks he died isn’t actually dead. In reality he just faked his death and ended up running away where he lived on the streets for over a year no one managing to spot him while he hid, not realizing people weren’t after him anymore. In this one day he ended up hiding near the way station and Jo and Emmie found this scared child and took him in. I could see him not talking much and becoming close with Jo and Emmie then in this headcanon him and Lit end up together There- idk my brain decided Lit would protect Ethan

do you support this?

Love love love this headcannon and definitely think Ethan and lit would become good friends, they both know what it’s like to be betrayed and wanting to do better with themselves. As for a ship I don’t really see it since lityerses is centuries years older and don’t wanna pull a caleo imo

Leo: I cant stand his bitch ass, thinking he’s all high and mighty

Frank: I’m sorry do you want me to crouch?

Leo:

Frank: or do you want boots because I can make this an equal fight

They then fought each other and held hands afterwards, they do this every week.